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daryl-dixon-daydreams · 4 years ago

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Word Count: 5796 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader Gender: Female Era: The prison Summary: After a close call on a run, the archer explodes at you.

Warnings: Language

Your name: submit What is this?

Another run, another disaster. You needed supplies. What you got was a pile of problems. Daryl, Maggie, Glenn and you ended up in a tight spot with far more walkers than you had expected. You were trapped inside a small flower shop with walkers banging on all the exits.

“How many you got, Glenn?” you whispered harshly to him over the banging fists and gnashing jaws.

“Uhh, too many out this way. Maybe twenty. Possibly more.”

“Fuck…” you muttered. You rushed back to Daryl and Maggie who were both leaning against the side door with all their weight to keep it closed. “Too many out Glenn’s way,” you relayed. You sighed and wiped a slightly shaky hand across your sweaty brow. “I—I’m gonna clear out the back.”

“What?!” Maggie snapped, readjusting her back against the door. “You said there were ten walkers out there.”

Daryl shook his head vehemently. “Nah! That’s too many. Ya can’t—”

“We don’t have a goddamn choice! Look, it’s the exit with the fewest geeks, so unless either of you can suddenly come up with a new and brilliant idea in the next five seconds, I’m doing it!” You waited, staring at both of them.

You shook your head. “You’ve gotta keep this door shut with Maggie until the back is clear. She and I won't be enough. I’m going.”

“Wait—Y/N!” Daryl yelled after you but you were already gone, disappearing into the back stockroom. “Son of a bitch!” Daryl was letting fly a lengthy string of expletives and there was panic in his eyes. Maggie noticed the overwhelming distress on his face as her own stomach flipped.

“She’s—she’s a good fighter,” Maggie stammered.

“And she’s too damn impulsive!” Daryl yelled, straining to keep his weight against the door behind them. “If we get outta this, and she makes it, I’mma kill her,” he growled. Maggie gulped.

In the back room you could hear the walkers still on the other side of the door and you steeled yourself, checking the magazine of your pistol and making sure there was a bullet chambered. You unsnapped the loop on top of your knife’s sheath and heaved in a forced breath. Here we fuckin’ go. You unlocked the door, barely opened it, putting your boot in the way to try and hold it open just enough for you to get your knife into the space. But the pressure of the walkers on the other side was too great for you to manage it for long. You stabbed your knife into the temple of the nearest walker pressing its face toward you in the opening and it was immediately replaced with another.

“Can ya hear anythin’?” Daryl asked desperately.

Maggie shook her head. “No! Just hold on,” she urged. Her back was sweaty from exertion and the stuffy air inside the store and she was starting to slide down the door behind her, constantly having to readjust her position to keep her bodyweight against it beside Daryl.

Just then there was a tremendous crash from the back room followed by gun shots. Daryl and Maggie exchanged a desperate look but the walkers outside the door just behind them had obviously heard the noise too and they attempted to surge forward. Daryl’s boots began to slide on the floor.

“We aren’t gonna be able to hold this much longer!” Maggie yelled, straining to press back into the door and hold the flood of walkers at bay. Over the groaning and mawing she and Daryl could hear more bangs in the back room.

Daryl leaned his head back against the door and shut his eyes for a moment. He felt sick, terrified. What if you were—? He couldn’t hear anything else from the stockroom. “Fuck this,” he growled, glancing at Maggie next to him. As if on cue, Glenn showed up and added his weight to the door behind them.

“I got the entrance jammed shut finally. Where’s Y/N?” he asked, incredulous.

“She went to clear the back way out,” Maggie said.

“What?!” Glenn’s eyes went wide.

“We ain’t waitin’ anymore! C’mon. On the count of three we make a run for the back,” Daryl said. “One. Two…”

Right then you emerged from the back room covered in walker blood, sweaty, your chest heaving, and looking completely exhausted. More concerning was a stream of blood pouring down the side of your face from a gash near your hairline. You absently wiped it out of your eye with your sleeve. “It’s clear! Let’s go!” you yelled at the trio, who were all staring at you in bewilderment.

“…Three!” Daryl said, and they threw themselves forward off the door. It immediately flung open and a flood of walkers began to pour in behind you all. “Go, go, go!” Daryl roared. He tossed anything he could get his hands on in their path behind him as he ran.

They leaped over the bodies of fallen walkers and debris as they rushed through the stockroom, but there it was—the back door standing open, sunlight streaming in, free of any biting jaws or clawing hands. Daryl slammed the door closed behind him as he exited the building but there was no telling how long it would hold.

You were all out of breath but had to keep going.

“Let’s get to the van. Now,” Daryl drawled, not even stopping to glance at any of you.

“My God,” Maggie said, looking over at you as you ran. “Your head—are you alright?” she asked you.

You pressed your sleeve to the gash again and nodded. “Yeah. I think so. You know, head wounds always bleed a lot. Looks worse than it is.”

“What happened?” Glenn asked, running beside his wife, one hand on the strap of his pack and the other entwined with Maggie’s.

“When they started coming in, I had to slow them down. They were coming too fast for me to kill. I pulled those shelves down but it was a bit of a domino effect.”

“Ain’t the place for story time,” Daryl snapped over his shoulder. “Let’s just get the hell outta here.”

You made it back to the van, exhausted, clutching a stitch in your side, your head pounding. You collapsed into the passenger seat as Daryl slid in behind the wheel. You shut your eyes for a brief moment, finally feeling the tightness in your lungs lessen, but you could feel Daryl’s eyes on you and you glanced over. They were narrowed but his expression was unreadable.

“What?” you asked in an undertone.

You thought you saw the muscle in his jaw tense but he simply looked away and started up the van. Soon you were behind the safe, high fences of the prison, climbing out and truly feeling the pain in your head now that the adrenaline had worn off.

Carol and Carl ran to greet you all when you came in. Her eyes clouded with concern as she saw your bloodstained face. “Are you alright?” she asked you urgently, taking your chin gently and turning your head to the side so she could inspect the gash.

“Fine,” you said. “I think. Hurts a bit…”

“I’ll get Hershel so he can take a look at you. I think he’s planting in the garden plot with Rick. I’ll send him up,” Carol said. She paused to give Daryl, who was hanging back, a friendly squeeze on the shoulder and a once over.

You glanced back and he had the same moody expression on his face. It had been a close call for all of you but you couldn’t help but feel like his irritation was directed specifically at you. You tried to shrug it off, but couldn’t suppress the twisting knot in your chest.

Maggie and Glenn broke off to grab some fresh water and Carol went over to talk to Hershel, Carl trailing behind her. That left just you and Daryl heading up to the cell block. The air was tense between you as you crossed the yard but as you stepped into the small common area just outside the cells, it was like it suddenly ignited white-hot.

Daryl threw his bag down angrily on one of the tables and your eyes snapped over to him.

You were a little worried your voice would shake when you spoke. “What’s the matter?” you asked him.

“Are ya shittin’ me?” he challenged you, his chest thrust forward, his eyes now locked on your face.

Your heart started to race and you gulped at the constriction that had suddenly appeared in your throat.

“That was real dumb what ya did back there today!” Daryl roared, pointing an accusatory finger directly at you. His eyes kept flickering up to the gash in your head and his stomach twisted every time. “You’re lucky all you got was that thing on your forehead!”

“What—I—” you stared at him, in shock from his rage. “I got us out of there… I had to.” “Nah. It wasn’t your call to make,” he spat back venomously.

You scoffed. “It was nobody’s call to make, Daryl! We were trapped and we had to get out. We were sitting ducks. Sooner or later they were going to come through the glass up front by Glenn or through that door right behind you and Maggie. I made a choice. And what I did, it didn’t thrust anybody but me right into danger. I can choose to gamble my own life if I want to! Hell, you do it all the time!”

This only seemed to infuriate him more. “Ya ain’t goin’ on runs anymore,” he roared, turning and stalking toward the door that led to the cells. His broad shoulders were squared and rigid.

You let out a noise of disbelief. “That isn’t your decision! And don’t walk away from me! I’ve had enough of this bullshit!”

“Yeah, well that makes two of us,” Daryl spat back over his shoulder.

You let out a frustrated groan. “Ugh! You are so infuriating! What is your problem with me? I haven’t done a damn thing to you and you treat me like I’m a complete waste of space! It’s like I can never do anything right for you, even when I save your ass!”

He spun around and took a few powerful steps back toward you, a scowl on his face, his blue eyes darker than usual. You refused to wilt under it. “This ain’t a shrink’s office, okay? And I sure as shit didn’t sign up for a little feel-good chat. So, why don’t ya leave me alone and go get your damn head stitched up.” He thrust a hand against the back of a nearby chair and it toppled over, echoing harshly in the high ceiling. You watched his broad shoulders shrinking away from you.

“No,” you said loudly, forcefully.

He froze mid-stride and you watched his fist clench and unclench at his side. He slowly turned to face you. “The hell did ya just say?”

You crossed your arms over your chest, resisting the urge to back down beneath his intense stair. “I said no. I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what the fuck your problem is with me.”

His jaw clenched hard and he started back toward you, that familiar stalk and swagger in his gait. “You are my problem. You’re always getting in my damn way!”

You were trying to stay cool, but your confusion and his unwillingness to explain his anger was infuriating. “In your way? What the hell do you mean?”

“I mean what I said.” He pointed a finger in your face, standing hardly a foot from you now. “On runs. On hunts. Scavenging. Hell, even around here!” Daryl wasn’t prepared for the flash of hurt that crossed your face. You were always so tough, admittedly one of the things he loved about you. He hadn’t considered that his words might actually impact you so heavily, but he saw it flash in your eyes as plain as day and it snapped him out of his rage and filled him suddenly with regret.

Your brow furrowed and you just stared back at him, unwavering, puzzled, like you were trying your hardest to understand just what he was talking about, scrutinizing every past interaction you’d ever had with the archer, running over the events of the day, trying to decode his harsh words. Daryl would have preferred it if you had yelled back again, even if you had stormed out. But this? This was tying him up in knots inside in a worse way. You just went on looking at him… with that blood all down the side of your face.

And when you did finally speak your tone was so soft, so controlled in contrast to his that it only made him feel worse. Your words were measured. “Well, uhh… Sorry. I guess I’ll just—try harder to stay out of your way.”

And that was it. You just breezed past him and headed toward your cell, the sun coming through the high windows glinting off the shine in your hair before you disappeared. Daryl rubbed a hand over the stubble on his face. You worthless piece of shit. Why the hell did ya do that? He cursed himself internally. You’re such an asshole.

_ _ _ _ _ _

That night the air was unseasonably cold but despite the chill you were spending the night on the outside balcony of the guard tower during your shift to keep watch. Every so often you shivered in the cold, but something about the bite of the air matched your mood after Daryl had exploded at you the way he had earlier. It was sharp, unexpected.

You still didn’t really understand what he had meant and you couldn’t stop puzzling over it. In his way? What the hell did he mean? Literally? Or did he mean something more… figurative?

The clank of the door behind you snapped you out of your swirling thoughts and you looked over your shoulder to see Rick emerging.

“Hey,” you greeted him, shrugging a little more deeply into your flannel.

“Hey,” he drawled back, coming to lean his forearms on the railing beside you and stare out across the yard. It was quiet tonight. He was grateful for that. “Cold tonight isn’t it?” he mused aloud, glancing over at you. When you didn’t respond and just continued staring into the night his brow contracted. “Are you alright?”

“Hmm?” your eyes finally snapped to his. “Oh. Yeah. I’m fine. I thought you were supposed to be resting tonight,” you said pointedly. “I can handle the next shift. I’m not tired anyway.”

“Mmm,” he nodded, turning back to let his eyes wander across the perimeter. “Not tired? Even after that run today? Maggie said you all had a close call.”

You nodded. “We did. But we all came back so… about as good a day as any. Can’t ask for more than that.”

“Mmm,” Rick hummed again in agreement. There was a long silence and you could feel some growing tension in it, sensed that Rick was searching for how to say just what he was mulling over. He did finally manage it. “This whole ‘not tired’ thing have anything to do with that fight you and Daryl had this afternoon?”

You gulped and looked down at your hands. “You heard that? I really thought everyone was outside…”

“They were. I just happened to be coming in to clean up a bit.”

You sighed heavily and felt your cheeks redden a little. You put one hand up to your face. “That’s… great…” you muttered.

Rick turned so he was facing you, just leaning on the railing with one elbow now. “I wouldn’t worry about what Daryl said or how he said it…” he drawled. You looked at him like he was insane.

“…you did say you heard him, right?”

Rick nodded. “Oh, yeah. I heard ‘im. But there’s a saying and it truly does apply to Daryl Dixon.”

“And what’s that?” you asked, cocking a skeptical eyebrow.

“The dog that barks the loudest? That’s the one that’s the most afraid.” Rick watched you puzzling over his words for a moment before you turned back to the night.

“Afraid?” you repeated. “Daryl? He’s like—the most fearless of all of us.”

Rick sighed and followed your lead, again looking out into the darkness. “He is. Until he isn’t. Listen, I’m not making excuses for how he yelled at you. All I’m saying is not to think on it too hard.” He straightened up and pulled off his jacket, holding it out for you. “Take this. It’s cold. I’m gonna take this opportunity while Judith is asleep to also sleep. Let’s hope I didn’t just jinx it. Ya sure you’re alright up here?”

You nodded and slipped Rick’s jacket on. “I’m fine. Thanks.”

“Alright.” He patted your shoulder kindly before again leaving you alone with your thoughts, possibly even more confused than you had been before.

_ _ _ _ _ _

You were exhausted by the time you climbed down from the guard tower the next morning as the sun was cresting over the trees. All you could think about was collapsing into your bed. The prison was still fairly silent as you came in, most people still sleeping. You yawned as you turned the corner into the room just outside the row of cells. When you looked up you saw Daryl sitting on one of the tables sharpening some bolts for his bow. You actually froze, before forcing yourself to move out of your falter.

You could feel his eyes on you as you crossed the room, purposefully giving him a wide berth, your head tilted down. When you turned into the cell block you let out an exhale you hadn’t meant to hold. You breezed into your cell and collapsed down onto your bed, hugging the pillow as you sank into it, too tired even to pull the sheet across the doorway. You were asleep the next minute.

Carol was up and found Daryl still in the same place you had seen him, but although he had a bolt in one hand and his knife in the other his hands were still. He seemed frozen there, just glaring into space across the room, obviously in some deep thought.

“Mornin’, Pookie,” she said, ruffling his hair just to annoy him.

He let out a growl and leaned away from her hand before glancing over at her, his lips pressed together in a thin line. She knew the look in his eyes. Something was eating him. “What’s wrong?” He let out a non-committal hum and shrugged his shoulders vaguely, his hands suddenly fidgeting endlessly with the bolt between his fingers. “Obviously something,” she prompted him again. Daryl glanced back over his shoulder toward the cell block. “What?” Carol pressed.

He only hummed again and shrugged. “What’re ya doin’?” he asked quietly.

“Just gonna go out and haul some water. Wanna come?” she asked.

He nodded and hopped to his feet, slinging his crossbow over his shoulder and sheathing his knife. He followed Carol out into the morning light and trailed behind her as she went to the waterline. As she waited for the bucket to fill she straightened up and wiped the dirt from her hands. “Are you going to talk to me or not? I can tell something is bothering you.”

Daryl pulled his bottom lip in between his teeth and thought hard for a moment. He’d hardly slept. He’d laid awake on his bed roll all night, staring up at the cracks in the ceiling and tracing them with his eyes over and over in a futile attempt to distract his mind. It didn’t work.

“I just—I screwed up yesterday. Big time. And I—” he shrugged. “I dunno how to fix it. Or if I even can,” he drawled.

Carol watched the turmoil in his eyes. She crossed her arms and studied him. “Is this about the run yesterday? Did something happen out there?”

“Kinda. Not exactly.”

She quirked an eyebrow at him. “You’re going to have to give me a little more than that to go on.”

“I just—I said some things yesterday and… they ain’t even really true.” He was staring down at his boots, and in that moment, it struck Carol how boyish he looked.

“We all say things we don’t mean from time to time. You just have to apologize,” she said thoughtfully. “We’re a family here. Family forgives.”

Daryl’s eyes shot up to hers again and he shrugged, chewing on the side of his thumbnail. “Just like that? I dunno. Don’t seem that simple.”

“Daryl, it happens to all of us. We say things out of anger, exhaustion… hunger. Fear.” She stooped to turn off the flow of the water.

“But—when ya’ve said somethin’ and—and, I mean, ya can’t unsay it. Even if ya apologize, whatever ya said is still out there,” he mused. There was a gruff rasp in his throat, the gravel in his deep voice heavier than usual.

Carol sighed and picked up the bucket. “Well, the first question you have to answer for yourself is why you said whatever it was you said in the first place. And just apologize and try to explain.” She watched his expression. He didn’t look any less uneasy. “Just try. See what happens. If it blows up in your face you can come back and let me have it,” she joked.

Daryl rolled his eyes and watched Carol head back up to the prison. He remained standing down by the fence, leaning against it, and wondering how he was going to explain away his outburst at you… wondering if you would, if you could, forgive him.

The truth was that he was terrified of something happening to you, and being helpless as he held the door while you so willingly threw yourself into danger was agonizing. And that fear had come out in a blast directed right at you, with all sorts of unsaid things behind it.

There was a shuffle near the entrance of your cell and you shot awake, sitting partially up on one elbow and barely catching a glimpse of the back of Daryl’s vest as he moved out of view. Had he been standing there looking in at you? Did he need something? You puzzled over it and rubbed the sleep from your eyes. You were probably just imagining that shuffle. He was most likely just walking by. Just then you saw Rick going past your cell in the opposite direction with Judith in his arms and you jumped up, realizing you were still wearing his jacket. You hastily pulled it off and jogged to catch up with him. “Rick!” He turned. “Hey. Thanks for this,” you said, holding it out to him.

He accepted it with a nod. “You can borrow it anytime you want to take over my shift,” he said, a twinkle in his eye.

You laughed lightly. “I guess the little one let you get some sleep then, huh?” you asked, fondly stroking Judith’s soft hair.

“She did. I think she’s getting better at this whole sleep thing. Soon she’ll go straight through the night,” Rick said.

“That’s great,” you said.

“Hey, I know you were up all night but… I think there’s a bit of a pile up on the fence. If you’re rested up enough would you mind—”

“No problem,” you said urgently, grateful for a task to distract you. “I’ll get out there right away.” In a few minutes you were down at the fence, a sharp metal rod in your hand. You plunged it into a walker’s skull through the fence and immediately moved to the next one… and the next… Despite the cooler temperatures in anticipation of autumn, you were drenched in sweat. You were grateful for the ability to focus on the heaviness of the metal rod in your hands and the snarls of the walkers separated from you by nothing more than a thin barrier of chain link. It was hard work and you’d been at it a long time.

Maggie was just thinking the same thing and she came to stand beside Daryl, who was also looking out across the yard and seemed to be watching you. “She’s been out there for hours. We should tell her to come in and take a rest. Get somethin’ to eat,” she thought aloud.

“Mhm,” Daryl agreed, not looking away from you.

Maggie glanced over at him. “Well, do you wanna go and try to convince her or should I?”

The archer chewed his bottom lip for a moment before straightening up. “I’ll do it.” He headed for the far end of the yard. As he approached, he could see your skin was glistening with sweat in the sun, the hair on the nape of your neck sticking in the heat. He tried to ignore the jump his heart gave and the warmth blooming in his chest as he approached. “Ya keep at it like this you’re gonna drop out here,” he said loudly, trying to make sure you would hear him over the snarls of the walkers.

You spun in surprise, the metal rod hanging along your side, a bit of walker blood and gore dripping off the end. Daryl’s voice was just about the last one you expected to hear. You turned back to the fence and stabbed another walker. “I’m fine,” you said over your shoulder.

“Nah. Ya been out here long enough. C’mon.” You only continued at your grim work, your shoulders tensing as you raised the rod. “Ya deaf or somethin’?” Daryl yelled.

You turned and looked at him again, your expression mostly blank, except for your furrowed brow. “I’m not deaf. I’m—” you sighed and crossed your hands over your chest. “What are you even doing down here?” you asked, genuinely confused.

Daryl’s blue eyes looked away for a moment. “What d’ya mean?” He was gripping the chain link in front of him, his fingers poking through.

“I mean, yesterday. Me down here working on the fence is about as out of your way as I could get, Daryl. And now you’re here.”

You watched as he pulled his bottom lip in between his teeth and bit it anxiously. “That why you’ve been out here so long?” he asked.

“No, I—Rick asked me to come down and—”

“Mmm. Mhm,” Daryl hummed, his nose inclining a little. “Ya, that makes sense. You’d do anything Rick asked of ya, right?”

You gave him a confused look. His tone was so… odd, almost hostile. “What are you—”

“Yeah, I saw ya earlier. Wearin’ his jacket. Givin’ it back to him…” He felt a swell of jealousy in his chest as he thought of you laughing, your eyes fixed on Rick’s face, light in your eyes.

Your jaw dropped open. “I was—it was cold last night. I was on watch. I was taking over Rick’s shift too and he came up to check on things and left me his jacket… What are—are you—?” You were bewildered. It sounded like Daryl was jealous. What the hell was happening? One day he’s screaming at you to stay out of his way and the next he’s acting like he’s under the spell of a particular green-eyed monster. Daryl scoffed and straightened up off the fence. “Yeah, I’m sure that’s it. Just you and Rick up in the guard tower. Alone,” he growled, flicking his hand in your direction.

“Are you kidding me? What the hell is going on with you?!” you asked, flabbergasted. “Not that this is even relevant or any of your damn business... and Rick’s a good man but I’m not interested in him like that. I don’t know what—”

Daryl interrupted you again. “Uh huh, ya. He is a good man. Only one here now, right?” Daryl spat back.

You were stunned. “Daryl! Daryl!” He had turned away again and started stalking back up toward the prison, but you were now infuriated and let out a frustrated growl before booking it for the gates that would let you get back into the yard.

By the time you made it, he was a good distance ahead of you, out in the middle of the grassy area and you had to run to catch up to him. “Hey!” you yelled, grabbing onto his shoulder lightly. He threw your hand off and spun around, but you were surprised to see that he didn’t look mad anymore. He looked… defeated. But now you were mad. “Are you gonna fucking explain to me what the hell is going on with you?!? I don’t know what to think! One minute you’re screaming at me to stay out of your goddamn way and the next you’re acting jealous because—what, you think I’m fucking Rick? Which, I’m not, by the way, not that it is any of your damn business.” You scoffed. “And just FYI, I don’t appreciate you trying to tell me what I can and can’t do! Now, what the hell is going on?” you demanded.

He stood there in front of you, his fists clenched at his sides, just looking back at you for a long moment, blue eyes narrowed in either a glare or a squint against the Georgia sun. He couldn’t stop looking at the neat row of stitches on your forehead and the dark bruising around them that had developed over night. His stomach twisted every time. He tore his eyes away and stared down at his boots, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. “I—you’re right.”

“…what?”

He sighed heavily and looked back up, meeting your eyes again. “M’sorry. Ya just—I thought I was gonna lose ya out there yesterday.”

You just continued to stare at him, confusion muddying your expression.

He chewed his bottom lip for a moment trying to come up with the right words to explain, to apologize. “Ya scared the shit outta me, pullin’ what ya did. And every time ya go out there, I can’t stop thinkin’ about what if somethin’ happens to ya. And it almost—it’s like I can’t breathe.”

You just stared at the archer, your heart continuing to race in your chest, but not from anger anymore.

“And I know it isn’t fair that I yelled at ya like I did. I was bein’ a jackass. I guess it was just how all that fear… came out. And I didn’t mean how it sounded.” Now that he had started talking it was almost like he couldn’t stop.

“Then what did you mean?” You felt like you were imagining this.

“I meant that…” he licked his bottom lip nervously and his blue eyes met yours. “I couldn’t bear it if somethin’ happened to ya.” He studied your expression for a moment, his eyes landing on the soft pout of your lips. “And I was jealous of you and Rick.”

“Daryl, there’s nothing—”

“I know. I know…” he trailed off. “But I was an asshole and then ya were wearing his jacket and smilin’ at him, laughin’, and I just—” He gulped at the restriction in his throat. “I—I wanna be that for ya.”

Your brain still wasn’t entirely registering what he was saying, but the way he was looking down at you was certainly sending jolts of electricity through you. “Be what?”

His eyes flickered between your lips and eyes repeatedly and you felt like you were waiting in anticipation on the edge of something. He shrugged vaguely. “Everythin’. Anythin’ ya need,” he said simply.

“…so, when you said that I’m in your way—?”

“I meant I can’t hardly think of anythin’ but you all the time.” Daryl was quickly losing his courage, nerves starting to take over and he pulled his bottom lip in between his teeth and chewed on it anxiously. You were looking up at him but he couldn’t read your expression. It was seemingly blank, and finally he was so anxious he started to turn away, but your hand landed on his arm gently and he looked back at the contact of your skin on his before his eyes rose and met your gaze.

There was a small smile on your face and Daryl’s heart leapt even as he tried to prepare himself for disappointment. “Where do you think you’re going?” you asked quietly. He again squared his feet to yours, shifting his weight from one foot to the other nervously. Your hand was still on his forearm and it felt like it was sending out radiating waves of heat.

Your smile faded and your expression became more serious. “Everything you just said—is how I feel about you.”

Daryl gulped, feeling suddenly breathless in disbelief. Your hand dropped from his arm, leaving a tingling sensation behind.

“Listen, I’m on watch duty again tonight. First shift. I’ll probably be cold. Why don’t you come keep me company and maybe bring me a jacket,” you said, with a small smile.

Daryl’s heart leapt at the thought of spending so much time with you alone. He nudged his nose up in a nod and was about to leave when he felt your hand on his arm again. You arched up onto your toes and placed a kiss on his cheek, giving him a warm smile, he felt he didn’t deserve. He stood rooted in place in the middle of the grassy field, a hesitant excitement blooming in his chest, as he watched you disappear into the safety of the prison.

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house-of-slayterr · 3 years ago

Text

More Magnolia!: @howl-fantasies

Maggie’s POV:

I sat in my small Gotham apartment sipping my coffee as I looked out my window. It was raining, of course it was raining. I walked over it the windowsill, lighting a candle. I loved the way they smelled, they remained me of Autumn which was just around the corner. It would be my first one in Gotham, and I was more than excited to celebrate one of my favourite holidays in a new city.

My brain wandered back to the other day. Jim hadn’t texted me since then and my heart kinda felt heavy at that. Maybe he was just trying to be respectful, but he was the first person I’d really talked to in Gotham. I was kind of hoping to make a new friend. As if on cue my phone buzzed. I went to pick it up, hoping it as Jim, but it wasn’t.

???:

Heard you met Jimbo

The number read. I sighed, clearly they had the right number, but it was frustrating having all these random peoples texting me. How the hell did they keep getting my number.

Maggie:

Who is this?

???:

Straight to the point, I like it. I have many names I suppose. But you can just call me a friend.

I rolled my eyes. Why did everyone in this town have to be so damn cryptic all the time.

Maggie:

Well friend, I’d like to know how you got my number.

Suspicious “Friend”:

I’ve got more than your number sweetheart, nice place you got by the way, real cozy.

My eyes widened. What they hell did they mean, had they been in my apartment. I swiped down the conversation and pulled up Jim’s number.

Maggie:

Why are your friends so creepy?

I waited a few minutes before I got a response.

Jim:

Friends? What are you talking about Magnolia.

Maggie:

The one you gave my number, which I’d appreciate if you didn’t do by the way. At least ask first.

Jim:

…

I didn’t give anyone your number…

I starred at my phone for a second contemplating my options. I pulled up the strangers number again, screen shotting it and sending it to Jim.

Maggie:

*sends pic*

Jim:

*opens picture*

Where do you live? I’m coming to get you.

Maggie:

Is that really necessary?

Jim:

If it’s who I think it is, then yes. She’s completely unstable and I don’t like they way she called herself your “friend” if she went out of her way to find where you live then she’s up to no good.

Maggie:

*sends address*

I guess it makes sense that a cop has enemies in Gotham.

Jim:

Trust me I’m not fond of it. Bullock and I are on our way

Maggie:

Bullock?

Jim:

Harvey Bullock, my partner. He’s driving.

Maggie:

Oh good, I didn’t want to have to pull out the mom card and scold you for texting while driving👀

Jim:

…

Did you just use an emoji? Exactly how old are you?

Maggie:

Old enough Jimbo. Why you interested?

I just wanted to tease him a little. I mean he seemed nice, but how could I flirt with someone I’d never even seen. I heard a noise in the corner of my apartment and I jumped. I grabbed my coat and made my way to the front door, locking it behind me. I chose to wait outside on the front step, that way at least if anything happened there would be witnesses.

Jim’s POV:

I rolled my eyes at the message. Not another person calling me “Jimbo” I hated it. Harvey looked over to me.

“Where are we going again?”

“To pick up a friend. She might be in danger and we are in the neighbourhood anyways. Zsasz’s girl is watching her for some reason.”

“That’s no good. The hell does that psycho want?”

I just shrugged. My phone buzzed again.

Magnolia:

Heard a noise, waiting outside. You can’t miss me, I’m in a red coat.

She sent a photo. I opened it and nearly choked on my coffee. Harvey laughed from next to me.

“Breathe Jimmy, the broad can’t be that hot.”

“She not- ugh! Just drive!”

I looked back down at the photo and smiled. She looked very nice in red. I scolded myself for thinking like this. I had just met her, well not even technically met her yet. I shouldn’t be having these feelings. But by the looks of it she seemed at least old enough to drink so that eased my worries.

Magnolia:

You guys almost here? I’m kinda freaked.

Jim:

Just around the corner, hang on.

I spotted her red jacket easily as we turned the block. She did look scared, and cold.

“That’s her.” I pointed to the doorway.

“Damn.” Harvey muttered.

I hit his arm. We stopped the car next to her.

“Looking for a Damsel in distress, you know any?” Harvey quipped.

She chuckled and her laughter sounded like music to my ears. I got out of the car and opened the back seat for her.

“Exactly how everyone wants to start their morning, being escorted into the back of a cop car.” She joked.

“I like her, she’s funny.” Harvey laughed.

“Yeah sorry about that. As soon as I figure out what Zsaszette wants from you I can convince her to back off.”

“What an odd name.” She quipped.

“Speaking of names, Jim never told me yours” Harvey said as he started the car back toward the stations

“Maggie is fine. And thanks again Jim, you’re a real hero.”

I blushed at the complement. Today was gonna be a long day.

An: I’ll figure out the font and formatting better on the next one. I’m writing on my phone and it’s being glitchy 😂

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roguesandsaviors · 4 years ago

Text

Little Exceptions

Fandom: Sweet Virginia

Characters: Sam Rossi, Maggie, Madison (OFC)

Pairing: None

Summary: Sam is a little more aware of those at his motel after the mess with Elwood and something about the new woman in 133 catches his attention. He couldn’t have anticipated what she was really hiding.

Word Count: 2,198

Rating: SFW

Warning: None

A/N: Mistakes are all my own as it is un-beta’ed. Hope everyone enjoys.

****************************************************************************************

Sam squinted as he looked out of the window. After the mess with Elwood, he was a bit more conscious of who was coming in and out of his motel. The headlights that had shone through his windows at such a late hour had caught his attention. The new renter in room 133 had just pulled in. The woman was unassuming, quiet, and kept to herself. He didn't make it a point to know everyone's business but knowing something was more comforting than knowing nothing. And he didn’t know a lot about the woman in 133.

She had been staying at the motel for almost a week now. A long term renter but supposedly she was a new resident to town and looking for a place to stay. That was what he had heard from the few town gossips at the diner. He hadn’t asked as much. It took a few days for Maggie to confirm that. Not too many people willingly moved to Fairvale so it was intriguing all the same.

He could make out her form, the silhouette against the only light out there really, getting out of her car and hurrying to the passenger side of her car. She whipped her head back and forth, Sam only assuming that she was glancing around to make sure that she wasn’t seen. That was enough to justify his watching, at least to him. His brow furrowed as she pulled a box from the car and tucked it under her arm. What the hell was that? He shifted, having to move so he wasn't leaning too much weight on his bad leg.

What was in the box? Sam rubbed at his cheek and wondered if he really should be focused on that. For all he knew, she was skittish because it was late at night and she was alone in a parking lot. In a town that was still new to her. It was understandable that she would look around and be cautious. And he didn't know what she was doing for work. It could be food or something just as benign in the box. He was being too cynical. Chiding himself as he watched the woman enter her room, he stepped away from the window. He needed to get some sleep. The made up worries could be focused on tomorrow. Until he had a reason to have an issue with her, he wouldn't. Though, he would keep a closer eye on her. For his mental well being at this point more than anything else.

********

Sam didn't expect to find the woman chatting with Maggie in the office. Maggie seemed relaxed and to be enjoying the conversation. He didn't catch what they were talking about as it died down when he entered the room. He cocked a brow and shot a look at Maggie, who barely gave him the time of day.

"Thank you Maggie." The woman gave Sam a quick nod and smile before ducking out of the office.

"What was that about?" Sam tried not to sound too interested. He could hide it behind the facade of business. Right? Maggie was jotting something down in the reservation book.

"She's staying another week." It wasn't the time of the year that they were particularly busy. She was lucky when it came to that. The room would likely be open for however long she needed for the next two months. Though if she was staying, hopefully she wouldn't be stuck here that long.

"Say why?"

"Something wrong?" She turned to look at him, concern written all over her features. Sam felt bad for saying anything. He was different after the incident but Maggie was as well. He was quick to shake his head and give her shoulder a small squeeze.

"No, not at all. Just been some time since we've had any long term guest. Thought I heard she was moving here."

"Oh, Madison is. The search hasn't turned out all that well. Obviously. It isn't like there are a lot of places for sale right now though. At least nice places that you would want to stay," she hummed before finishing up in the book. "Coffee's fresh if you want a cup."

"Thanks," Sam murmured before moving to get himself a cup. Caffeine was very much needed to be able to get him through the day. He didn't get as much sleep as he had been hoping to last evening. He let his thoughts wander a little too much. "Don't you have class you need to get to?" Maggie shook her head.

"No. Some administrator day so no classes at all." Sam chuckled and sipped his coffee.

"So, day off then?"

"Yep. Figured you wouldn't mind me hanging around and picking up a few more hours."

"Not at all," he murmured. "Gives me some time to set down new carpet in room 132."

****

Sam had the carpet nearly complete when an odd sound came from the room next door. He frowned and slowly pushed up to his feet, giving himself a second before moving. The woman's car was still there, meaning she was in the room. He inched closer to the wall and waited, wanting to see if the sound repeated itself.

Several long seconds passed and he didn't hear the sound again. Maybe he was just hearing things. Rubbing a hand over his face, Sam shook his head.

"Get back to work," he chided himself. He was looking for there to be a problem now. That was why this was happening. If he got himself under control, it would all stop. "There's nothing going on in that room. You are being paranoid and need to get over it. Or else you are going to scare the poor woman." He settled himself back down on the floor, stretching his bad leg out to be able to nestle into the corner.

Ten minutes passed and he heard the sound again. It almost sounded like a cry. But not quite human? Finally, Sam abandoned his task. It was time to figure this out once and for all. Leaving the door open to the room he was working on, he moved over to the front of 133 and knocked. Something bumped in the room, like an item had fallen over. He frowned and waited for the woman to open the door, prepping what he was going to say to her.

The woman seemed flustered as she opened the door just a bit. Sam didn't miss the flash of panic that crossed her face when she realized who was at the door. It felt like it was confirmation of his actions.

"Uh, Mr. Rossi, hi." She wiped her hands against her pants nervously and gave him a small smile. "What can I do for you?" He still wasn't great with confrontation and Sam nervously held his hands in front of him.

"Yeah, good afternoon. There were a few complaints of some odd noises coming from your room." She tried to play it off but was failing miserably at it.

"Odd noises?" She shook her head and she couldn't maintain eye contact. It was a sure sign that she was lying. It set the man a little more on edge. "I'm sorry, Mr. Rossi. They must be mistaken. It's just me here. I haven't had any guests and for the most part, I've been out of the room. I'm not sure what they have heard but it can't be coming from my room."

As if on cue, the sound came again. This time it was more distinct with the door opened. It was definitely a tiny cry and definitely not human. Madison's shoulders dropped and her head hung.

"That isn't an odd noise?" He cocked a brow and watched as she began to scramble to make up some sort of explanation.

"I know the policy says no pets and I'm sorry. But," she moved into the room and came back with a small thing. It barely fit in the palm of her hand. "I had a small litter that ended up rejected by their mother. No one else was able to take care of them. They need to be bottle fed every few hours. They aren't making a mess in the room, I swear. They are kept in a small kennel. And their bathroom habits are, well, controlled at best so there won't be a spot left anywhere in the room." Sam realized it was a puppy she was holding. The thing couldn't be older than a week or two. It's eyes were barely open.

"A littler?" He blinked and looked back up at her.

"Yeah. Uh, come on." She motioned for him to follow her into the room. As she said, she had a small kennel on the floor. Three other puppies were wrapped up snuggly in a towel. There was not a chance that they would be able to get out of the set up that she had. Four bottles were lined up on the nightstand. "You, uh, you wanna hold one?" Sam didn't expect that but found himself holding both hands out. He was a little worried about potentially dropping the small thing.

"What do you do that you ended up taking care of them?" He looked up at her, pulling his eyes away from the adorable thing resting in his palm. It squirmed a little before settling into the warmth, content it seemed.

"I'm the new vet." Sam nodded, a new sense of understanding dawning. He couldn't be upset with the situation. She was being responsible and ensuring that nothing happened in the room. And the babies couldn't be abandoned. They needed the help. He had to use a single finger to be able to pet the puppy in his hand.

"Guess that makes sense," he chuckled. "I didn't realize Chuck retired." Madison smiled and moved to pick up one of the other puppies and a bottle of milk.

"Well, on his way out. He is giving me a month to get used to things. And clients time to accept the idea that he won't be around. I think some of the large animal owners are a little hesitant." She started to feed the puppy.

"You do large animal too?" She was a tiny woman. Imagining her standing next to cattle or caribou was comical. The question garnered a laugh from her and Sam felt a little more relaxed as she did. He didn't have it in him to give her a hard time over the little ones that she was taking care of.

"That tends to be the reaction I get from most people. But, yes. Large and small animal medicine. It's part of the reason I am up here." She glanced up from the puppy. "Grew up on a farm in Iowa. There weren't any jobs in the area and I knew I wanted to be somewhere with a lot of land. So I ended up with my first job just outside of Anchorage. This position opened up and I jumped at it. It's a little more permanent than my previous job. I am inheriting clients from Chuck, which makes life a little easier. The staff is fantastic and the area is quiet. So, I couldn't really ask for more."

"Sound reasoning," Sam offered. "How long do you have to bottle feed these guys?"

"Until about four weeks. They need to get fed every two to four hours so it's a pretty around the clock task. Did you, uh, did you wanna try? The other two still need to be fed."

"Really?"

"Yeah, it's easy. They do all the work." She grabbed another bottle and handed it over. "You can set him down and grab one of the others. They'll be a little squirmy but you can't really hurt them. Just hold the bottle up and they'll do the rest." Sam was a little hesitant but hearing the other two start to cry was enough to spur him into action. Carefully settling the boy in his hand down, covering him up with the blanket, he grabbed one of the others and a bottle. As instructed, he held it up and the puppy was quick to latch on. He laughed again, the eagerness even in such a small one amusing.

"I guess I'll have to make an exception to the rule this one time. Can't have these little ones have no care." He looked up at Madison with a smile.

"Thank you so much, Mr. Rossi."

"It's Sam," he corrected her. "You're doing a fine job or taking care of the place so I can't be upset. I've had worse done here for less reasoning." Madison nodded her understanding.

"Still, I really appreciate it. I wasn't trying to be underhanded. I just, I still don't have a place to stay and couldn't just leave these guys with nowhere to go."

"It is hard to say no looking at them, ain't it?" It was definitely a good exception to the rule this time. The whole thing turned out better than Sam thought it would have. Puppies certainly weren't the worst thing he had ever had at his motel.

#Sweet Virginia #Sam Rossi #Jon Bernthal #Jon Bernthal characters #Sweet virginia fanfic #fanfiction #my writing #my oc #my fic #Madison #Maggie #puppies

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littleredlie · 4 years ago

Text

Choices (S1P3)

Series Masterlist | Master Masterlist

Chicago Med x doctor!OC Morgan Fitzgerald is a doctor at Chicago Medical and she is called in on her day off. She thinks it’s going to be a simple day, but a feeling of dread doesn’t seem to escape her. She is confronted by a forgotten figure of her past; and secrets about Morgan’s history come into the light to her friends and coworkers. Based off S1E59 of Chicago Med

5.6k+ Words

Featuring: Morgan Fitzgerald, Hayden Everett, Will Halstead, April Sexton, Maggie Lockwood, Ethan Choi, Sarah Reese, Sharon Goodwin, Connor Rhodes, Jay Halstead (mentioned), Cassidy Kane-Fitzgerald, Erin Lindsay (mentioned) Warning: Mentions of drug abuse, angst, Morgan has her problems, cursing??? (for the amount I actually curse, I’m surprised my stories aren’t riddled in curse words) idl what else ??? A/N: Here it is! I keep forgetting to queue this shit, but at least it’s still posted on a Saturday. These chapters are getting longer and longer

Part Two

Hayden passes a cup of tea to Morgan, before joining her friend on the couch to watch TV. “I feel as if I have only been working,” Morgan sighs, taking a sip of the mint tea. She had taken the week off, or she was forced by Goodwin to take the week off, to make up for the fact that she’s been working nonstop for the past three weeks.

“It’s because you’ve been taking on extra shifts and haven’t been getting any sleep.” Morgan tries to deny her accusations, but Hayden gives an all-knowing look. “I know when you’re up Morgan, I can hear the papers shuffling.” Morgan drops her eyes to the pool of tea, slightly shaking from her movements.

“There hasn’t been any leads on Olivia’s case or on the case that came into the hospital in 2014. She’s still a Jane Doe, no matter what I try or where I look.”

“Why don’t you ask for some help from your detective ex?” At that Morgan almost chokes on her tea and Hayden lets out a boisterous laugh at her reaction.

“Yeah, right,” Morgan’s still clearing her throat, placing the cup on the coffee table. “Running into Jay a few weeks ago is not an invitation for us to have any type of relationship. And I do not want to complicate his life while he’s dating Erin.”

“Yeah, sure. Not like he didn’t complicate your life when y’all broke up.” She scoffs, taking a large drink from her tea, a shake of her head.

“For one: I broke up with him, and two: he doesn’t know about Olivia.”

“But he knows about the Jane Doe, it was his case too wasn’t it?”

“Yeah, and if I ask him about it, he’s gonna wonder why I’m still interested in it. It’s been two years with no new victims or lead. I told him I moved on, back when we were dating, I don’t need anymore animosity between us if he found out I lied.” Morgan picks up the drink again and takes a sip, letting the warmth of the tea soothe her throat and relax her body.

“Well, I’ll try to reach some of my contacts in the department and see what I can find.” She reaches over and places a hand on Morgan’s knee. “We are gonna catch this guy, we’ll get Olivia, and all his other victims, their justice.” Morgan looks at her friend for a moment, glad that she finally wasn’t carrying this burden by herself, and nods. “Do you have any other information about the case?”

Morgan breathes out and nods, “yeah, I started a folder after the victim came through the hospital in 2014. I tried looking for other victims at other hospitals, but haven’t found anything.” She gets up and walks down the hallway to her room. In a locked box hiding under her bed was a thick folder field with a copy of police reports, medical examiner reports of Olivia’s and the jane doe’s autopsy, and Morgan’s medical reports from when the jane doe was under her care. She grabs the folder and heads back out to where her best friend was sitting, handing it to her waiting hands. “The brutality of his crimes indicate that he has done this more than twice, but I can’t find any evidence.” Morgan throws herself back on the couch, folding herself up and facing Hayden.

“Maybe you need a fresh pair of eyes, and it also helps that my eyes are trained to find leads. And that I have plenty of cop friends.” She flips through the various pages, taking more time to read on some of the pages.

“Thanks for looking into this for me.”

“It’s no problem, I’ve always wanted to help you, but I also wanted you to let me in when you were ready.”

“Thanks babe.” Morgan smiles.

“Now about Jay,” Hayden inquires and her friend groans, eliciting a laugh. “What?! You liked him and I recognized the moping that occurred right after you broke up with him.” Her tone turns softer as she looks at the doctor. “Why’d you break up with him? When you were with him, it was the first time I’d seen you smile since Olivia died. I just never understood what went wrong.” She shrugs, wishing her friend would open up to her.

They’d been friends since they attended undergrad together, but Morgan always had trouble opening up even when Olivia died. Hayden understood, but she always made herself available to her best friend and it was reciprocated. Morgan was a good friend, sometimes too good of a friend, putting their needs above hers.

“Ultimately in the end it wasn’t working and I wasn’t blind. I could see that he did not want to make a choice between…” Morgan pauses taking a deep breath.

“Between you and Erin?” Hayden asks and Morgan nods, choking out a slight sob.

“God, it’s been two years, why can’t i get over it? He didn’t love me the way he loved her and that was okay, I was okay. I’m okay.”

“Well if you’re okay, why not go on a date with that one guy I told you about?” Morgan shrugs at the question, but also knows that answer. The scar that sat at the base of her belly made her insecure, she hadn’t been intimate with anyone since Jay and she yearned to be touched intimately by someone, she wasn’t ready to have her whole body exposed to new eyes.

“I’ll think about it,” Morgan lies, turning her body to the TV that they really just used for background. Hayden doesn’t push any further, she closes the file that she has in her hand and places it on the coffee table, swapping it out for a takeout menu

“Alright Chinese or Ethiopian?”

“Ethiopian, I have a coupon somewhere in my room.” Morgan gets up to look for the coupon while Hayden dials the restaurant’s number. Morgan returns to the living room with a coupon in hand, reading to see if it had expired. It hadn’t. But when she looks up, Hayden is holding her phone towards her. “Tell me you’re joking, please.” Morgan begs but Hayden sighs out, shaking her head. Morgan takes her phone, pushing a sigh out. “Hello?”

“Hey Morgan, I’m sorry to do this to you today but we’re getting slammed and two of my nurses and a doc called off,” Goodwin says through the phone and Morgan wants to say no but she doesn’t.

“Yeah, I’ll be there. Give me 30 minutes.” At Morgan’s answer, Hayden throws a pillow at her, a little upset that their girl’s day is ruined.

“Thank you.”

“No problem,” Morgan hangs up and flings herself over the back of the catch, her face stuffed into one of the cushions.

“Hey, you only have thirty minutes, get your ass to work,” Hayden throws another pillow, pulling a muffled groan from the doctor.

“Okay, it’s just for today. Just one day taken off from my week. When I get home girl’s day will resume and will stay resumed, no interruptions.”

“You say that and then we get doomed. You get called in and I get a new assignment.”

Whipping her head up to look at her best friend, she puts on a face of determination.“That won’t happen, not after tonight.” She gets up and starts walking down the hallway. “I promise!” She yells back.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep!” Morgan hears her friend’s teasing answer, scared that she really wasn’t going to be able to keep it.

❦

Morgan pulls up to the hospital 25 minutes later in the Nissan Rogue she shared with Hayden. Hayden decided to pursue girl’s day on her own, so she was staying home. Morgan stares at the entrance from the warmth of her car and takes a deep breath. For the past three weeks, she has been at Med every single day. After the day of Olivia’s birthday, she pushed herself into finding out what happened to her sister and to not let her investigation distract or destroy her, Morgan threw herself into work. She didn’t think it was much of a problem until she found herself unable to keep her eyes open while driving back home last week, she had called Connor to drive her home and he pointed out the issue. So, Morgan decided to take a week off and try to relax. So much for that.

Grabbing her hospital badge that sat in the center console and her backpack from the passenger seat, Morgan steps out of her car and begins making her way into the hospital. When she gets to the ED, she sees that it’s a little busy so she understood why her presence was necessary.

“I thought you were off this week?” Connor asks when he sees Morgan. He walks up to her as she leans against the door of the doctor’s lounge.

“I do, but got called in for today,” Morgan shrugs, a yawn escaping from her between her lips.

“Are you sure you’re okay to work today?” He leans closer, whispering to her. Connor wouldn’t tell it to her face, but he was getting worried for her, he had also noticed that a few weeks ago her behavior began to change.

“Yeah I’m sure. It’s just one shift.”

The sound of sirens pulling close to the emergency department doors pulls their focus from each other. Maggie asks for a report from the paramedics and Morgan turns her face back to Connor.“I think that’s your cue,” her head tilts towards the incoming patient and he nods.

“I’ll see you later, okay?” He doesn’t move on until she nods at him. She watches him join the patient and start working before pushing her body into the doctor’s lounge. The noise of the emergency department gets muffled the second the door closes behind her and she groans out. She didn’t have a problem coming in and the closer she got to the hospital the more okay she was with taking this shift, but now that she was in the building, she felt so overwhelmed and for a second, she almost wanted to cry. Closing her eyes and letting out another sigh, Morgan leans her head against her locker and forgets the world for just a moment. She knew today was going to be a day.

Finally getting it together, she throws her stethoscope over her shoulders and slips her pager in the front pocket of her scrubs. She makes it out of the lounge as Maggie is calling a gathering of some of the staff. Morgan speeds up to the group, putting herself beside Sarah.

“Gather around, gather around,” the circle closes around the charge nurse. “New patient satisfaction forms. You need to get every patient who’s been treated to fill this out,” she starts handing them out, placing a few into Morgan’s outstretched hand as well. “Wait for it. It gets better.” She pauses building a bit of anticipation from the staff. “We have a P&P in isolation.” A few nurses groan out and Morgan just scoffs out a laugh. “Oh yeah.”

“What’s a P&P?” Sarah asks and Morgan gives a comforting pat, remembering the first time she treated one. It almost made her not want to choose emergency medicine for her residency.

“Reese should do it.” Doris says, a few of the nurses agreeing with “Yeah!” and assurance to Maggie.

“How about we show you, Dr. Reese?” Morgan teases, nudging the young student doctor on the side.

“Let’s go,” April says, tugging Sarah by the arm and Morgan follows behind them.

The three women make it to the room with April in front. “P&P; pediculosis and phthiriasis.” The nurse announces to Sarah, who seems hesitant.

“Lice infestation.” Sarah says matter of factly, nodding her head.

“Among other things,” Morgan answers, pushing herself from her leaning position and standing next to the tent.

“Uh, what exactly do I do?”

Morgan hands a protective covering to Sarah, “first, gown up.”

“You strip him, scrub him three times.” April continues, turning her body to grab a tube from the tray behind her and Morgan. “Then put permethrin over every millimeter of his body.” She puts the tube in Sarah’s hand with a smile. “Welcome to my world.”

“Okay,” Sarah says, a strained smile on her own face. Morgan starts to back away towards the exit. “Wait! You’re not gonna help?” Sarah says and April chuckles, already knowing the doctor’s answer.

“Sorry, Sarah.” Morgan shrugs, her hand ready to pull open the room’s door. “Needed on the floor. I just wanted to see the look on your face.” The doctor motions around her face, a teasing laugh on her face at the look Sarah had.

“Don’t worry, I’ll help.” April says and Morgan quickly excuses herself from the room. She leaves with a softer smile on her face, but still a feeling of dread hangs over her.

❦

It’s been three hours since Morgan first stepped onto the floor and although she helped on a few emergencies and set a few casts, the day was fairly slow. Being an attending meant overlooking a few of the student doctors and interns on their own patients, but their cases were usually easy and the patient was treated fairly quickly. So all Morgan had to do was scroll through various patient charts making sure that everything was in order. She was so close to just asking Maggie if she could leave early when Ethan walked up beside her.

“Hey, Ethan. How’s your day going?” The man looked a little tense to Morgan and she almost regrets asking the question. Ethan and Morgan were not as close as Will and Morgan were, but they respected each other and he did hold one of her biggest secrets.

“It’s complicated.” Morgan nods, completely agreeing with him. “I thought you were taking time off?”

“I’m filling in for someone,” she absentmindedly says while continuing to scroll through reports. “Eventually, I’ll go on sabbatical.” He chuckles at her answer and she turns to grin at him.

“Dr. Fitzgerald, Dr. Choi, we’ve got an incoming,” Maggie walks by them and towards the ambulance bay doors. Dr. Choi grabs a pair of gloves and follows the nurse, while Morgan works to log her credentials off the tablet. When she makes it to the treatment room they’re in, the patient has a high blood pressure and heart rate. Their body convulsing as a seizure pulses through them.

“On my count, let’s move her.” Dr. Choi says, everyone involved moving the patient at the end of count three.

“Push 4 of Ativan please.” Morgan asks and Nurse Doris complies. Dr. Choi reflects light into the woman’s eyes while Morgan checks her heart rate with her stethoscope. “Let’s get Neuro down here,” someone walks out of the room to do as she asked. The convulsing of the woman on the treatment table slowly stops and her eyes begin to open. She looks disoriented.

“Ma’am, do you know where you are?” Ethan asks while Morgan speaks to the paramedics to understand the situation they were dealing with. When Morgan turns back towards her colleague and patient, she freezes, the answer for her earlier feeling of dread finally presented itself.

It was her mother. A woman she hadn’t seen since was 22, was lying disoriented on the gurney looking up to Dr. Choi and trying to answer his questions. Sure, Morgan hadn’t laid eyes on her mother for 3 years but she knew it was her even with all the damage done to it. She couldn’t forget her face even if she tried – and she tried. Morgan wants to turn away but she can’t move her body, and her mother finally turns to her daughter.

“Morgie,” she rasps and Morgan can’t breathe. Her breaths come out shallow and her eyes begin to sting. If Dr. Choi held a stethoscope to her chest, he would’ve heard how fast it was beating. Ethan is looking between the stunned doctor and his patient, he opens his mouth to say something but Morgan beats him to it.

“Dr. Choi, you got this right?” Her words are strained and she forces herself to look at him, it’s obvious she doesn’t want to move her eyes a few degrees to the right.

“Yeah, Dr. Fitzgerald, I got this,” at the end of his words, Morgan moves without missing a beat and she’s barreling down the hallway towards the elevator, not caring who’s in her way. Dr. Choi just stares at the recently vacant spot while the woman chokes out.

❦

Morgan’s been up on the roof for the past thirty minutes when someone joins her. She doesn’t bother looking over as she’s still going over the situation she just found herself in. Her mother was in her emergency department. “So what’s up with her?”

“Cassidy is suffering from withdrawal symptoms.” Ethan’s answer emits a scoff from Morgan. The female doctor is picking at her fingernails, something she did since she was a child to calm her nerves. This time it wasn’t helping and a few of her fingers were bleeding at the cuticles.

“Of course she is. She probably hasn’t been able to get her next fix,” she moves her arms from her body’s way and leans against the edge.

“Who is she Morgan?” Ethan’s body is turned towards her. He notices the conflict flitting across her face, a hint of a sadness is present also.

“She’s...she’s my mom,” her head is looking towards the sky as she blinks the tears away and tries to compose herself.

“I thought your mother was a lawyer.” He asks, leaning his body on the edge now too. He had met her last year when her parents stopped by for an errand.

“Yes… and no. Stephanie is my stepmom. Cassidy Kane-Fitzgerald is my mother, she left when I was 5. My dad never told us why she left, but seven years ago she came looking for us, she was lucky; we didn’t even live in Chicago by then, but my sister and I were here visiting and that’s when we found out her problems with drugs.” Morgan saddens even more at the mention of her sister. “ You could just tell that she was dependent on them. I persuaded my sister into helping her, so we gathered a lot of the savings we could and put her into rehab.”

“What happened after that?” Ethan asks, taking advantage of the situation to not only know his patient’s history but to know his friend better.

“Two months later Olivia got a call that our mother left and I didn’t see her until shortly after I graduated med school. And again I used up most of my savings to put her through rehab, I don’t even know if she went through the whole program that time, I got caught up with something that summer. I guess I forgot about her.” Morgan shrugs as she remembers that three weeks after putting her mom in rehab, Olivia’s body was found.

“Well she’s asking for you, if you want to see her.” He lays a hand on her shoulder and she finally turns to look at him.

“I’m sorry Ethan, but I can’t do this with her again. You take primary on the case, I don’t think it would be a good idea to have someone so emotionally attached assigned to her, might cloud my judgement .” Ethan looks at her for a silent second before nodding, Morgan smiles softly before pulling away and walking back into the hospital. She just had to get through the rest of this day.

❦

Despite denying it, Morgan has been distracted. She tried her hardest to avoid the side of the emergency department that her mother’s room was, but occasionally she’d find herself walking past it.

“Hey, I heard your mom was admitted,” Connor says, walking up to the doctor who was trying to distract herself with paperwork.

“God, nobody knows how to keep their mouth shut,” Morgan slams what’s in her hand down on the desk, causing a few people passing by to glance at her. “It’s not a big deal, Ethan’s going to be handling her.” She tries brushing it off like it all wasn't bothering her to the smallest fragment of her being. In reality, she was angry. Angry that Cassidy was there and angry that the truth about her mother was traveling around the hospital like some type of seasonal flu.

“I don’t know why you didn’t come and get me.” His arms are across his chest, his voice hushed, his eyes glaring her down even though she won’t look up at him. “Morgan.”

With her jaw clenched, Morgan finally looks up at Connor then quickly looks away because of his stare. “Sometimes Connor,” she pauses contemplating if she really wanted to tell him this, she continues. “You get a little overprotective, and I am grateful that you are watching out for me, but you treat me like I can’t take care of myself or decide how I want to feel. You may be a little older than me, but I’m not a child anymore. We’re not in high school, you’re not Olivia’s best friend and I’m not her kid sister anymore. We’re colleagues now, Connor. You need to see that.” She finally looks up at him. And he opens his mouth to say something in response, but Morgan isn’t having it, not today. “Just give me a little space.” She turns away from him and heads out of the ICU towards the elevator.

She knew that maybe she was a little rude to Connor, but she also knew where he was coming from. However, Morgan hated when everyone looked at her like she was fragile, waiting to break and she especially hated receiving it from Connor. He knew not to treat her like that, they’ve known each other for years, but sometimes he defaults to it since he cares about her a lot.

Connor and Morgan met through her sister Olivia. Morgan was four years younger than the both of them, but he ended up hanging around their house a lot (to avoid his father) and in the process, Morgan and Connor also got closer, even closer than him and Olivia. He had attended all of Morgan’s graduations and she attended his, when he left the states they had stayed in touch. And after Olivia’s death, despite the physical distance that recurred after the funeral, they two were closer than ever; constantly calling each other and making trips to see one another if they could. But after being able to constantly see each other due to being coworkers, Connor could see how damaged Morgan really was; Morgan could see how much Connor was willing to do to protect her and she didn’t necessarily like that.

The elevator opens up to the emergency room and Morgan hesitates, not wanting to approach her mother. A few people get on the elevator, some giving her some looks including Will. He stands beside her quietly, and she slows her breathing. There was a guarantee that the gossip finally reached him and since she first met him, she tried to keep him out of her personal life. That’s how she was able to hide her relationship with Jay, the existence of her mother, and the fact that her older sister was raped and murdered shortly before she started at Med.

She sees him turn towards her in her periphery and she knows he wants to say something, but she beats him to it. “So, what’s going on with your cancer patient, heard she signed a DNR.”

Will sighs out, missing the opportunity to confront her. “Yeah, I’m hoping to get her into a trial. Change her mind and give her a fighting chance.” His hands are in his pockets as he shrugs. The elevator stops and a few patrons step off before it continues moving up.

“Why don’t you just respect her wishes?” Morgan looks up at him, her hand running over her curls as best as she can. “She above anyone else knows the struggle she’s going through, so she shouldn’t she have the choice to keep fighting or not, to make her own decisions?”

“But it’s selfish,” Will leans closer to her, to keep the conversation between them. “She has a daughter, a husband. She shouldn’t be so hellbent on abandoning them.”

“You don’t get to make that decision for her Will. Sometimes you need to let people make their own decisions and accept it without your judgement weighing in,” Morgan is not only addressing his patient, but their own relationship. She loved Will, she did, but after a lot of Morgan’s past began having a light shed on it, Will always had a few comments; with news of her mother and her condition, she knew it was a short time before she heard something from him. Might as well put him in his spot now.

She doesn’t give him a chance to answer as she takes a quick step out of the elevator as soon as it opens; this isn’t even the floor of her destination. She doesn’t look back, but Will watches her leaving.

❦

“Can you stop sending nurses to get me for you?! Can’t you take the hint that I don’t want to see you.” Morgan steps into the room, fuming. Her mother sits on the bed, an IV in her arm as Doris is adjusting the drip. Doris pauses at Morgan’s outburst and looks like she wants to bolt. Cassidy has sent various people to plead for Morgan to come and see her, or she would keep refusing treatment. Ethan was the first, Doris had even come asking, and it was Maggie who was finally successful in dragging Morgan from her lunch and into the treatment room.

“I just wanted to see you, it’s been years since I’ve had a good look at you,” the frail woman grasps at her daughter but Morgan steps out of her mother’s hold.

“I am busy.” Morgan enunciates every syllable, glaring at her mother.

“Fine then!” Cassidy yells and knocks over a metal tray down onto the ground, making Morgan jump slightly. “Get me Omar, I haven’t seen him since he was a baby.”

Morgan rolls her eyes, forcing a sigh out. April, Connor, and Will all step in, the noise drawing them as they think that Morgan is possibly in danger. They didn’t understand the type of dynamic that exists between the mother and daughter.

“You okay, Morgan?” Connor asks, coming up behind her. He starts placing a gentle hand on her lower back but hesitates, testing the waters since their conversation earlier was so tense. Morgan glances at him, but doesn’t step away which encourages him to actually touch her. Maybe she shouldn’t deny that Connor was a comforting figure in her life. Not as his touch sent a little shiver up her spine and made her heart jump in speed. Not when she enjoyed being that close to him.

“Yeah, the patient is just being a little uncooperative.” She says, not even bothering to hide her words from her mother.

“Stop talking about me like I’m not here.” She speaks loudly, pushing herself off the gurney. She looked ready to pounce on her daughter. Agitation was a symptom of withdrawal. April moves to the side of Cassidy, possibly to help calm her down. Will just watches the relationship of Connor and Morgan unfold in front of him. There was nothing that he could say to Morgan now, she was still upset with him and he knew she’d probably get madder if he heard what he’d done to Jennifer Baker.

Cassidy still hasn’t abandoned her request for her children. “If you won’t get me Omar –”

“Omar’s in Colorado,” Morgan injects, tired of conversing with her mother.

“Get me Olivia.”

At her sister’s name, Morgan tenses and surprisingly, so does Connor. Will and April noticed how the room suddenly got colder and they could see Morgan’s face start to harden. “What do you mean get Olivia?” Morgan says through clenched teeth.

“Get me your sister, she was always kind to me.” Morgan isn’t sure what to say, she just stares at her mother. “Well are you going to stare at me all day or let me see my kids.”

“Olivia’s dead,” Morgan whispers, but Connor is the only one that can hear her. Will and April stare at their coworker, wondering why the tension in the room all of sudden had to be cut with a saw.

“I don’t understand why you can’t get over the past Morgan, why can’t you let me make amends? ”

“Make amends?” Morgan’s voice is the one that raises in volume now. Connor’s grip tightens slightly as to calm her down but his friend steps away from him and towards her mother. “I put you through rehab two times, using Olivia and I’s savings. And look at you, two days off drugs and you think it’s time to make amends. You are unbelievable,” she’s looking down at her mother now; her voice coated with hate and low now, but she’s still audible to her coworkers in the room. “You are too damn late. Omar doesn’t remember you, I hate you, and Olivia’s dead. She was killed three years ago while you were off getting high in some dump!”

With that Morgan abruptly turns and pushes herself past Connor. He tries to grab her but she narrowly escapes him, tumbling towards the doctor’s lounge. She left behind a shocked room. Will and April looked at each other and then to Connor, realizing that he knew that news bomb. Cassidy sits on the bed, wails beginning to leave her throat as what Morgan said finally settles in her mind.

❦

Morgan’s out of her uniform and everything is packed, she was getting out of the hospital even though she still had two hours left.

“Maggie, I’m not feeling so well and I just need to rest.” Maggie looks at Morgan, not buying the lie but is willing to let it pass.

“Yeah, of course. Everything’s died down here so we shouldn’t need you anymore.” She nods and Morgan gives her a weak smile and then turns around towards the elevator. The charge nurse watches the distressed woman make her way to the elevator. Connor walks up beside Maggie, his eyes also going to his friend’s back. Morgan looked broken. Her bag loosely slung over her shoulder, her eyes a little red accompanied by bags under them. Her hair was in a messy bun, a little frizzy; it’s flat ironed looked totally a memory from this morning. She had it a little rough today.

“Is she going to be okay Connor?” Maggie asks, concern written all over her face. Connor isn’t sure how to answer because he hasn’t seen her this way since her sister died in 2012.

The woman’s trip up to Mrs. Goodwin’s was uninterrupted. She knocks on the administrator’s door and enters when she gets the go ahead.

“How may I help Dr. Fitzgerald?” Goodwin says, folding her hands under chin. “I was hoping to extend my time off for another week. Some things have come to my attention and I’d like to take care of them.”

“Well you have accumulated a lot of leave these past few weeks and I heard today wasn’t your day.” Morgan sits in the chair that is across from the older black woman.

“I think some time away will let me clear my head and get back on track.” Goodwin gives a small grin, before placing a warm hand on Morgan’s clenched fists. The gesture causes for tears to slide down Morgan’s face, the light reflecting off the tears against the black landscape of her cheekbones.

“You should talk to someone Morgan, take care of yourself.” Morgan doesn’t give a definitive answer, but grins back as a reply. “Get out of here, I’ll see you in two weeks.” With that Morgan gets up and exits the office, finally making her way out of the building.

This time her trip is interrupted by Ethan, he slowly approaches her outside the elevator doors. “Heading out?” He asks.

“Yeah, it’s been a long day.” She clutches her bag closer to her body and looks up at him.

“I just wanted to inform you that your mother left.” This causes Morgan to take a deep breath in. “Considering her condition and how adamant she was on not joining one of our programs, it’s not looking good for her.”

Morgan looks down at her feet, quiet for a minute. “Well Ethan, she’s not my problem. There’s nothing I can do about it.” She shrugs, her lips pursed.

“Are you sure Morgan?”

“I’m sure,” she pats his shoulder and leaves. When she gets outside, she pulls out her cell phone and dials Hayden. She throws her bag and herself into the car and slams the door, the biggest sigh of relief escapes her body as her roommate finally answers.

“Hey, don’t you have a few hours left on your shift??”

“No, I left early. Lot of shit happened today, I’ll tell you later.”

“Alright,” she lengthens the syllables with curiosity. “Do you need something?”

“Um, yeah. Can we get out of Chicago? Go up to that cabin you were talking about earlier?”

“Oh fuck yeah, I’ve been dying to drag you up there since this summer.”

“I know, I know,” a small chuckle leaves Morgan’s lips. “I’ll see you in thirty.”

“Okay, I’m gonna pack. Bye!” The two women hang up the phone simultaneously, but one is more excited than the other. Morgan glances one more time at her place of occupation and watches as various people walk in and out, she catches the figures of a few of her coworkers as well. She needed these two weeks, she couldn’t save others if she was denying rescue for herself.

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caddyheron · 5 years ago

Text

When things are hard, I’ll be there. Chapter 2.

I’m about 1000 words into chapter 3 so far.

Chapter 2- 2793.

Sun streamed into the decorated living room, managing to directly catch Jane Seymour in the eyes due to the position of her chair. It had taken the woman hours to fall asleep. Anne had arrived back home safe close to twelve in the morning, then it was at least one thirty before she and Catherine of Aragon had gotten Anne calm enough to lay to rest. In addition to that, Jane had been sitting in the same spot for at least three, maybe four hours before she had drifted off into a restless sleep, filled only with dreams of Henry and seemingly nothing else.

Jane had awoken with quite a start, whenever the sun streamed into her eyes, but also due to the fact she could sense some shuffling or movement coming from Anne Boleyn. Eyes still closed and yawing, Jane’s mind began to replay the sequence of events from the previous night and she shivered. Jane had never been particularly close to Anne, not often being the one that she’d go to immediately, but the night had almost been an out of body experience for both of them. It didn’t matter that Anne and Jane weren’t by any means close. Along with the sequence of events which happened to Anne playing in her mind, the same happened for the events which had happened for Catherine too. Jane’s heart glowed a little, extremely grateful for the other queen’s help that night. Then it sank again. Jane remembered the way that Catherine had abruptly left after discussing Katherine and Henry. Making a mental note to talk to the woman about that and ignoring the heavy sinking feeling, Jane cracked her eyes open.

Anne was not on the sofa and the clock was only shining six thirty in the morning. Taking a deep breath, Jane ran a hand through her hair and yawned again before her eyes wandered to the kitchen. At the table in the middle of the neat white kitchen, sat Anne, head resting near the edge of the light blue table. Her knuckles still bruised and a little bloody, make-up still a mess and not having changed her clothing yet. Jane sighed. Fear coursed through her for a moment before she pushed the thin blanket that she’s wrapped around herself and stood up

Walking through the small archway that lead to the kitchen, Jane took a seat on the stool beside Anne and placed a gentle hand on the small of her back. The poor love was shivering.

“Anne?” Jane inquired, only resulting in a groan from the woman, indicative that only she was conscious. “How about I get you a cup of coffee or some tea, okay sweetie?” Jane asked, rubbing her back in slow circles. She rarely called anyone but Katherine “sweetie”.

Anne sat up a little, looking at Jane before shaking her head. “No thanks,” she croaked.

Jane, without pushing, nodding back to her. She could try again with that later. For now, getting her somewhere comfortable, maybe in her pyjamas and hopefully in bed. Coaxing Anne to sit up fully, Jane supported her as she leaned in, head on Jane’s chest. Anne groaned again, her head was pounding, and her hands hurt. The last night seemed only like a blur apart from one thing that stuck out strongly. Henry Tudor. Images of that man played and played and played over and over in her head, not matter how much she wanted it to stop. And the memories of her child too – all she wanted was Elizabeth.

Why hadn’t Elizabeth come back too? It wasn’t fair, she got her Maggie back, but she couldn’t get her daughter back? It plagued her relentlessly. But she tried to not allow it to bother her; not having Edward probably hurt Jane more anyway, her problems were more important than Anne’s were.

Without realising, Anne had started to cry into Jane, tears filling up her eyes and dampening Jane’s fluffy white dressing gown. Jane, noticing, pulled her closer (well, as close as they could be sitting on two separate stools) and began to whisper comforting statements. Anne felt empty. If Henry was back and not with her Elizabeth, she wasn’t sure what she would do. Shaking her head in saddened anger, Anne pushed away.

“What is it, love?” Jane asked, her tone curious and light.

“What if…” Anne paused, harshly wiping her eyes with her sleeve. “What if Henry is back but n-not my Eliz- “Anne stopped, sobbing almost uncontrollably. It didn’t often hit her this hard, it never had before. Anne had only really noticed it hitting Jane this hard, usually around Edward’s birthday.

Jane nodded. Anne understood that she didn’t need to speak about it again. Jane understood. It was hard, however, to get the imagery of her beautiful daughter out of her head as she moved in closer to Jane to calm down. Jane raised a hand and began to carefully play with Anne’s hair, gently touching and twisting it in an attempt to calm her down.

It was a Sunday – Catherine would be waking up and making her way to church soon, Anna would probably be asleep until the late morning, Cathy would probably spend today writing, Katherine then helping Jane around the house, with Anne milling about and filling in wherever needed. Ideally, that’s what would happen every Sunday. After the morning, usually Joan and Maggie would come to their home for a roast lunch and then they all would play cards, watch a movie, or go out somewhere.

Last week, Jane had decided to take a trip to Kensington, to the ice rink outside of the Natural History museum. Jane had managed to drag all the queens and all the ladies with them, for a nice “family bonding”. It had ended up a slight disaster, with Katherine and Cathy falling once too many times until Katherine had bruised her leg from knocking directly into Anne and then the floor. Afterwards, Jane had bought (almost) everyone hot nuts coated in sugar. (The ladies in waiting had insisted on paying for their own and so had Catherine of Aragon).

Reminiscing on the week that had just passed, Jane smiled, laughing breathily. This Sunday would not be like that and she was trying to brace herself for exactly what was going to happen. Ending her small moment of reminiscence, she focused all her attention back to Anne. They could have fun again whenever everything was right – she had a list of trips and places she wanted to go.

“Jane?” Anne asked, pushing up from Jane again, her face ghost white and eyes red with tears.

“Hmm?” she mused.

“What was Elizabeth like?”

The question caught Jane a little off guard, pulling her fully from her happy memories as her face paled a little itself. “Elizabeth was…” Jane started, stumbling over her words. Thinking of the children past a simple conversation caused her mind to wander over to Edward and it was hard to come back from that.

However, almost on cue, Jane heard the pitter-patter of light feet wander down the stairs. It was immediately recognisable as Katherine Howard’s footsteps. “Mum?” Katherine yawned, walking into the living room first of all, a little confused whenever she did not see Jane Seymour nor Anne Boleyn.

Gently, Jane spoke: “We’re in here love.”

At that, Katherine walked in, her face neutral. She took a seat beside Anne, taking her hand gently and holding it tightly in hers. Katherine could see the sort of state which Anne was in immediately, so she did the thing that Anne did to her whenever she was having a panic attack.

“Thanks Kitty,” Anne stated bluntly, too harsh for what she meant. But Katherine didn’t recoil even if it was harsher than what Anne sounded like. Instead, she looked toward Jane for instructions. Mums always knew what to do.

“I’m going to get Anne to bed, okay? Kat, could you please make two cups of tea and bring them across the hall in a few minutes?” Jane asked, her head tilted to the side a little so that she could see Katherine clearly. Katherine nodded and stood up.

Anne began to push herself up off the stool by herself first. Jane took position beside Anne, snaking an arm around her waist as Anne leaned her head onto Jane’s, face furrowed in pain. They began to walk together, Anne finally reaching her room after a few moments. She took a deep breath as she sat on the edge of her comfortable bed, just wanting to melt into the bed as Jane carefully helped Anne into pyjamas and then into bed.

Promptly, Katherine brought in two steaming cups of milk tea, handing one to Jane and one to Anne.

“Thank you love. I think Catherine will probably waking up soon; tell her I need to speak with her if you see her, please dear?” Jane felt slightly guilty for the fact she had already asked two things of Katherine. It made Jane’s chest constrict slightly, she was worried that Katherine would get angry or upset with her, even if it was fully out of her nature too and the queens often asked a little of each other. “And,” Jane paused, about to ask the girl another favour. Swallowing, she apologised first of all, earning a confused look from Katherine.

“Why are you apologising?” Katherine asked, genuinely confused.

“Because I’m asking a lot of you this morning…” Jane admitted, earning a confused look from Katherine once more and a confused look from Anne also. Anne had just worried every queen in the household and had practically gotten three of them to look after her. How was Jane asking a lot of Katherine? Sitting up slightly, Anne placed a hand on Jane’s shoulder in the same comforting fashion that Jane had been doing.

“What was the other thing you want me to do, mum?” Katherine asked, completely fine with the two requests asked of her.

“Uh, I just need you to text Joan – but you don’t have to – and tell her to send Maggie over later today…” Jane took a breath, forcing down the guilt and anxiety that was pressing on her chest. Jane wasn’t even fully sure why.

“Of course! That’s not hard!” Katherine beamed, making Jane’s chest constrict a little less.

“Thank you lovely,” Jane smiled as Katherine left the room, heading up stairs as she heard the first noises of Catherine waking up. “Anne,” Jane stated, turning back to the girl who was melted into her bed, her hands barely holding the tea. It was lovely to see Anne calmer now, and some more rest would do her the absolute world of good. “Try to get some rest, I’ll be back soon. I need to go have a talk with Catherine, do some tidying and then I think I’ll nip down to Tesco to get a nice lunch,” Jane smiled, a bit of a forced smile, but she did love going shopping for the girls.

Sleepily, Anne perked up at the mention of Tesco. “Chocolate?” she asked, hopeful.

Jane let out a laugh, the girl could be in the absolute worst of states but would still happily suggest chocolate for lunch. Jane truly admired her. The fact Anne could still stay playful and sarcastic while in a terrible state really brought her some peace and happiness – slight awe and wistfulness lingered too; Jane wished she could have the demeanour of Anne whenever she was at her worst.

“We’ll see,” Jane smirked playfully, kissing the top of her head as she headed out of the room.

Katherine Howard and Catherine of Aragon were situated at the top of the stairs, seemingly in wait for Jane to arrive. Catherine was dressed but didn’t look like she had to leave anytime soon. Jane thought back to last week, whenever Catherine had told Jane that their service was going to be pushed back an hour or so the next week. Jane couldn’t remember the exact reason why, not completely sure if Catherine had told her. Jane began to walk up the stairs to meet the two girls idly staring down at her.

“Jane I- “Catherine began to speak as Jane did too. Letting out a small huff of laughter, Jane motioned to Catherine’s bedroom, but Catherine shook her head.

“Cathy’s still asleep, the dear was up until the early hours of the morning. Let’s talk downstairs,” Catherine suggested to Jane’s agreement as the two began the descent down the stairs, leaving Katherine staring at them wondering for her next instruction.

“Do you want some coffee?” Jane suggested as they both took a seat at the kitchen table, a little nervous to hear what the other had to say.

“No thank you…” Catherine took a breath, not sure of where to start with what she was going to say. “Jane, I need to tell you something,” she stated, elongating the process of telling Jane more than it needed to be.

Jane nodded, chest constricting for what seemed like the millionth time that day. Catherine was so rarely apprehensive about her speaking and words, often jumping straight into talking. “What is it?” Jane spoke, keeping her voice rising from nervousness.

Catherine was feeling the same way. Her hands shook a little as she gently set them on her lap. “Henry,” she spat out suddenly, much to Jane’s confusion. A careful nodding prompt urged her to go on. “Remember what Anne said about him? How she saw him – or at least someone who looked similar to him?” Catherine spoke as the realisation of what she was about to say hit Jane, even if she was bracing herself for impact. “I think I saw him too…” Catherine’s words went a mile a minute, barely able enough time to get a breath out as she uncharacteristically rambled on. “It was after the show on Wednesday, I decided on a scenic park route home because I had a headache. You remember, right? Anyway, I saw him. I was walking through the trail when I saw someone with that strawberry coloured hair and same build and face that made me double take. I don’t think he saw me, but I picked up my pace,” Catherine finished. She was prepared to take that story to the grave unless any more information came to light.

Jane went pale. Completely pale; ghost white. Barely able to speak, it felt like she was swimming, Catherine’s voice seemed so distance. Jane felt her face flush, dizziness crashed over her in waves, terrified that she was going to faint, Jane began to try to steady her breathing. She hadn’t felt like this in sometime and she had never gotten so afraid over the thought of Henry. Jane, despite how much the queens tried to convince her, couldn’t wrap her head around the fact that she had also been horribly manipulated. Jane still hated Henry for what he did to her Katherine and the other Queens, but she still struggled to see what he did to hurt her.

“Listen to me Jane,” Catherine spoke, her voice swimming in Jane’s ears. “He won’t hurt any of us, okay? I promise.”

“Henry never hurt… me… worried about,” Jane took a choked breath, “worried about Katherine.”

Catherine nodded, knowing that Jane was not in the right state to hear Catherine’s talk on how she was treated wrongly and unfairly. Jane could not let Katherine know; it would literally destroy the girl; she didn’t deserve it. It wasn’t fully confirmed however, and Jane was yet to hear Anne’s side to the story. It provided comfort somewhat, knowing that this could easily be a simple misunderstanding rather than the genuine fact of Henry being back.

Slipping from the trance she had been in, staring at the wall beside Catherine, Jane and Catherine both heard familiar footsteps. It was not the time to see another queen, even if the queen who entered the room was a sleepy looking Cathy Parr.

“Kat said that Maggie would be here around eleven or twelveish,” Cathy stated, not looking up from the counter where she had begun to make herself a mug of coffee. It was only until she didn’t get a reply did she look at the two queens sat at the table. One was looking sheepish, eyes wide and worried, the other looked even worse. Ghostly pale and visibly shaking.

“Jane? Cath?” Cathy spoke, taking a step forward, eyes worried and sleepy.

“It’s a long story, love,” Catherine started. “Promise you won’t mention this to Katherine yet, yeah?”

“I promise,” Cathy nodded, taking a seat beside Jane, and taking Jane’s hand and rubbing slow circles on it. “Tell me as much you want to.”

#six #sixthemusical #six fanfiction #six the musical fanfic #jane seymour #anne boleyn #catherine of aragon #quinn writes

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ambitionsource · 5 years ago

Photo

AMBITION Season 2 ♫ “Second Choice” [ 2.02 ]

CREATED BY Esther (rapunzles) & Maggie (daphnegolshiri) || S2 Tag || Official Page

TAKE YOUR PICK – The faculty organizes another duet week in an effort to bridge the student divides, but a change in rules creates more problems than solutions. Isadora gets a lesson in honing her inner diva. Harper and Shawn butt heads over how to handle the junior class.

59 Minutes (14.5K+ words) || No warnings apply.

[ ← Callbacks ] [ S2 Synopsis ] [ Are We Out of the Woods → ]

( Follow along with the music on Spotify here! )

INT. MATTHEWS APARTMENT - RILEY’S ROOM - DAY

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Happy When I’m Sad” as performed by Jonas Brothers || Instrumental

Close on Riley’s coveted moodboard, only it’s in the process of transition. RILEY MATTHEWS is slowly taking items down, trying to reorient herself in this new world and find her sense of gravity again. If that means starting from scratch, then so be it.

Still, she hesitates as she takes the scrap of notebook paper down from its central spot. The notes she and Lucas were passing back and forth last semester, still boldly declaring “you’re better” in his untidy scrawl.

Riley gazes at it, handling it gently in her fingers. Obviously torn on how to feel about it now in spite of how many times she’s looked to it for inspiration. That, and painfully wistful.

CORY MATTHEWS interrupts her daze, startling her. He asks if she’s ready to go, not catching onto her earlier moment of melancholy. She moves fast and stuffs the note in her pocket, nodding and tossing her bag over her shoulder.

INT. MINKUS HOME - FARKLE’S ROOM - DAY

FARKLE MINKUS is getting ready for the day, scrutinizing himself in the mirror. He’s wearing one of his favorite sweaters, but he’s dissatisfied with how it looks. It’s a little too loose around the middle. He pulls it off in a huff, sorting through his other clothes in his closet.

As he pulls a different selection, the dark fabric of this one allows for clearer imperfections. There are a couple of stray hairs clinging to the cashmere, a slightly more perceptible amount of shedding than one might typically notice.

He hardly focuses on that as he pulls it on over his head. What the dark color does accomplish is a more fitted appearance, so he decides that’ll have to do for now. As his mother calls for him, he runs his hands through his hair one more time in the mirror. Still attempting to maintain that perfectly polished exterior, yet there’s a frayed edge he can’t seem to smooth over.

INT. AAA - DANCE STUDIO - DAY

Bright and early, MAYA HART is in the building before anyone else. She’s in the midst of an intense practice, not giving up any scrap of rehearsal time.

She stretches and moves with expert precision. The only aspect out of shape are her dance shoes, pretty worn and even falling apart in some places. She certainly can’t afford new ones.

Hence why she’s working harder than everyone else. She checks her phone for the time, tightening her ponytail before running through another routine.

INT. FOSTER HOME - KITCHEN - DAY

ISADORA DE LA CRUZ is finishing up a quick breakfast as she gets ready to head out, almost missing KAREN VAN HERSCHING as she enters carrying a crying ADRIEN WOODS. Isadora winces at the noise, but that’s only the beginning of her problems.

Karen questions why she didn’t wake up Ava and Arianna for school. They both overslept, and now they’re likely all going to be late.

Isadora: That’s not… my job?

It’s evident that Karen is not impressed with this response. She reminds Isadora that now that Blue is gone and moved out, she should be pulling more weight to help the family around here. It’s part of the expectations in this household.

Isadora looks less than thrilled about it. She mutters about being late herself and shuffles out, Karen looking after her in disappointment.

INT. AAA - HALLWAY - DAY

More students are beginning to file in for the day, the hallways becoming lively and filled with chatter. Still figuring out her way around, HARPER BURGESS half-jogs through the halls until she runs into ERIC MATTHEWS. He asks if she’s heading to Jack’s office for their meeting.

Harper: Well, I’m certainly trying.

Eric laughs with her, offering to help guide the way. She questions if he just got here, but he explains he’s been here for a bit. He likes to show up early and get things in order before another full day at AAA -- and boy, has there been a lot to get in order these days.

EXT. AAA - DAY

Skateboarding up the street, DYLAN ORLANDO is on the phone with Asher. He explains that Lucas wasn’t at their usual spot to walk to school, so he doesn’t know where he is. He hopes he’ll still be on time, if he shows up at all.

As Dylan zooms by, focus shifts down the street a little further… around the corner and conveniently out of view, a parked car comes into frame --

INT. ZAY’S CAR - DAY

Which is where we find ZAY BABINEAUX, leaning forward across the median to kiss CHARLIE GARDNER. It’s clear they’ve been here for a hot minute, just out of sight and ready to head into school yet very… distracted.

They exchange a couple more enthusiastic kisses before Zay finally manages to pull away from him, catching his breath.

Zay: We should really go. We’re going to be late.

Charlie: [ humming ] I… think we can take another minute --

Another minute, another kiss. Zay can’t help but laugh, and “another” becomes a handful.

Zay: Oh, so being late isn’t a heavenly sin?

Charlie: [ over Zay’s laughter ] Shut up!

Charlie lightly shoves him and pouts, Zay laughing harder. He takes his face in his hands, making him meet his eyes. Although the mood is playful, there’s no doubt from the way they handle one another that they’re crazy about each other.

Zay: One more minute, then.

It’s difficult to maintain the pout when Zay is looking at him like that. Charlie fails to hold back a smile, allowing him to pull him back into another kiss.

Just as the school bell rings...

INT. AAA - JACK’S OFFICE - DAY

Eric, Harper, and SHAWN HUNTER are grouped around JACK HUNTER, who is standing behind his desk organizing papers. He thanks them all for being willing to meet so quickly, then states they need to address the tension they’re still grappling with from the first week.

All of the faculty members agree, and Eric echoes Jack’s thought that it’s going to take a more concerted effort from all of them to get everybody back on the same page. Jack opens the discussion to ideas of how to accomplish this task.

Shawn: I’m thinking mortal combat. Throw ‘em in a ring Hunger Games style, last one standing is new top dog.

Jack: Remind me why I haven’t fired you yet.

Eric: Besides, we all know what our odds are and the last thing we need is Lucas taking over and setting the place on fire.

Jack: Or instituting a code of silence in a school for the arts.

Shawn, intrigued: … now that you’ve mentioned it --

Eric & Jack: No, Shawn.

Harper is lagging a bit behind, not accustomed to the faculty banter the way Angela once was. It’s hard to discern what’s serious and what isn’t, so she fires a shot and hopes for the best.

Harper: Have we tried just… speaking to the students?

[ Pointed silence. Shawn gives her a look, crossing his arms. ]

Shawn: Okay, I know you’re new here, but give us a little bit of credit.

She doesn’t appreciate Shawn’s tone, but they’re already moving past it.

Eric: Well, there’s always more paint in storage for another safe tactical --

Jack: NO. We’re still scraping paint off the asphalt in the parking lot from the last time.

Bad ideas aside, Eric reminds them that all things considered, the duet assignment from last semester was a rather effective way to bridge gaps between students. It brought the class closer together before it inevitably… fell apart again, and that same tactic could be just as impactful this time around.

This seems to sit well with the others. Harper obviously doesn’t remember what they’re referring to, but she nods along anyway. Jack declares that it’s settled, they’ll do duets this week. Shawn and Eric agree and leave it at that, heading out.

Harper hangs back for a moment, hoping to ask Jack for advice. But it’s evident from the way he settles into his desk and starts going through work that there is a lot on his plate, so she hesitates. When he lifts his head and asks if there’s something he can do for her she denies it, shaking off the uncertainty and assuring him she’s fine.

Jack: Are you sure? You know you’re always welcome to --

Harper: No, no it’s all good. No worries, I’ll… I can handle it. Thank you, though.

She gives him a confident smile, spinning on her heel and marching off to do just that.

INT. AAA - TECHNICIAN’S BOOTH - DAY

As Isadora enters the technician’s booth, the reason for Dylan missing Lucas becomes clear. It’s because LUCAS FRIAR is cooped up in his nook, still asleep from the looks of it. Given how haphazardly the panel is put to the side, it’s likely he showed up late at night.

Isadora sighs, shaking her head and marching over to him. She shakes him awake, surprised he’s still “in bed” given that the bell has already rung. That’s careless for him, and as she warns him when he grumbles at her and blinks himself awake, next time it’s going to be someone else other than her who finds him like that. Then they’ll have more problems than they already do.

Lucas waves her off, sitting up and starting to pack up. But Isadora made some important points, and she looks both irritated and concerned as she waits for him to get ready.

INT. AAA - HALLWAY - DAY

Maya stops by her locker before class, running into SARAH CARLSON and DARBY WINTERS. While Darby gives her a cheerful greeting, Sarah instead zeroes in on Maya’s decrepit shoes.

Sarah: Might be time for a new pair, Hart. [ a beat ] Oh, wait, that’s not an option, right? Why bother when the illusion’s already been shattered?

Certainly one way to remind us that Maya’s big money facade from last season was blown. She sneers as Darby laughs along, slamming her locker closed and leading the way to class.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

The class is congregating in the front and center section like usual, Isadora and Lucas descending from the booth to join them. Dylan and ASHER GARCIA seem relieved as Lucas comes over to join them, fresh shirt disguising his overnight stay and bedhead hidden behind an increasingly familiar snapback.

Harper and Shawn enter the auditorium, the former taking front and center stage and eagerly getting the attention of the class. She begins to discuss the assignment for the week and what it might entail, when she’s suddenly interrupted by Shawn pulling her back. He tells the class to talk amongst themselves and pulls Harper aside, embarrassing her as he implies that she doesn’t know what she’s doing.

Shawn: I just want to make sure we’re on the same page before you go off saying whatever you’re going to say.

Harper: And you couldn’t have thought to do this… twenty minutes ago? Or any time before right now in the middle of class?

Shawn: There’s just certain things that you need to emphasize if you want this assignment to work. Mostly, they cannot choose their own partners. It will not help the situation.

Harper: What are they, toddlers?

Shawn: Have you met them?

Although Shawn has to be coming from experience, Harper still doesn’t care for the way he’s talking down to her. She nods along to his further notes before taking the stage again… and completely disregarding what he told her. She explains the assignment, and sets them loose to choose their own partners.

It’s instantaneous madness. Shawn is visibly like are you kidding me, but Harper seems proud of herself for standing her own. The chaos has already been unleashed, in any case.

Off Shawn’s mortified expression --

Cue title sequence.

Once the mandate has been laid down, everyone jumps into deciding their partners. Riley turns around and finds Zay, the two of them agreeing to work together as it’s been a while since they had a good team up.

Riley immediately begins brainstorming ideas, but Zay is distracted when he catches Charlie heading out of the auditorium. He offhandedly tells her they’ll catch up later, subtly jogging his way after Charlie. Riley watches him go, reluctantly accepting the dismissal.

Riley, flatly: Sure. No problem.

Panning to the techies, Isadora doesn’t even get the chance to breathe before she’s summoned from center stage. Maya points at her, already ready for action.

Maya: Izzy! Come on. I’ve got a lot of ideas.

It’s not a question, it’s a statement. No room for discussion. Lucas looks more than bothered as she tosses him an apologetic smile and heads towards the stage, obviously expecting things to go quite differently. Behind him, Dylan and Asher begin discussing their take.

Dylan: I’ve got it. It’s perfect. We have to do Spiderman: Turn Off the Dark.

Asher: [ catching his hands and shaking his head ] No, babe, no --

Dylan: I know it was a flop, but I think we could save it. I think we could really do something with it.

INT. AAA - HALLWAY - DAY

Zay catches up to Charlie, who seems surprised he even noticed he left. Zay begins to apologize for partnering with Riley without thinking about it, but Charlie doesn’t seem at all upset.

Zay: You know, she’s just going through it right now and I think she could use a friend in her corner.

Charlie: Oh, hey, no problem. It’s probably for the best anyway, considering…

You know. They both know what goes without saying -- the same factor that has them having this conversation in the hallway alone rather than in front of their peers, or parking down the street to kiss before school. Charlie shrugs off the bleak reminder, remaining positive.

Charlie: Besides, Yindra is a great partner. She agreed we’d be excellent, so long as I promised never to kiss her again.

Zay laughs, coming around to stand in front of him. He speaks softer.

Zay: Well, I don’t have to worry about that, do I?

Charlie, coyly: … no…

It’s a flirtatious little moment, and it’s effectively squandered as a couple of other students exit from the classroom nearby and head down the hall. They don’t pay them any attention but Zay and Charlie still take a couple steps back from one another, shifting into something stiffer.

They conclude that they’ll see each other later, heading off in separate directions as Zay jogs back to the auditorium.

INT. AAA - BLACK BOX THEATER - DAY

Harper is gathering her things together for lunch when Farkle pokes his head in. He awkwardly states that he doesn’t see how he’ll be able to complete the assignment this week, given that there’s no one left for him to partner with.

Harper doesn’t seem to buy this, as she’s certain the numbers are right from her last count. Farkle obviously is a bit miffed she doesn’t believe him, so he reiterates the statement again despite not wanting to keep saying it.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

At the same time, Lucas is meeting with Shawn to express the same thing. He has a more blase approach, shrugging and claiming that he supposes he’ll just have to do something else.

Lucas: I mean, you know how not getting to perform is really gonna break my heart.

Shawn: Oh, I didn’t realize you switched your focus to comedy.

Harper and Farkle enter through the wings, coming to find Shawn. He explains that he was just discussing with Lucas what his alternative assignment might be, since he doesn’t seem to have a partner.

Harper: How interesting. Because Mister Minkus just came to me expressing the exact same dilemma. [ Clapping her hands together. ] There you go. Simple solution!

Lucas and Farkle stare at each other, and immediately both of them launch into complaints. No way. Nuh-uh. Not gonna happen.

Farkle: I’d rather be skinned alive.

Lucas: That can be arranged.

Farkle’s eyes widen, looking to Shawn for a life preserver. He steps into the discussion, expressing that knowing these two and their unique dynamic this is probably not a good idea. He insists that Harper should trust him, after two years of being their teacher.

Harper: Is that so? Because what I’m seeing is a problem that two students are experiencing, in which a clear and present solution is sitting right in front of us. A good teacher would perhaps challenge those students to get over their own egos.

Lucas and Farkle both continue to argue, but Harper has had enough of the three of them. It’s only been a couple weeks, and yet they’re all tap-dancing on her last nerve. She lays down the law, stating that it’s either work together or fail the assignment.

Shawn is displeased, and the boys are downright livid. They storm off in their opposing directions, leaving Shawn to ruminate on it as Harper leaves him behind on the stage.

INT. AAA - CAFETERIA - DAY

Isadora is making her way towards the techie table in the courtyard, JADE BEAMON and NATE MARTINEZ waving her over. However, she gets sidetracked by Maya, who swoops to her side and is already buzzing with a million new ideas she’s brainstormed over last period. She’s pulled in her direction without much effort, joining her at her usual table.

EXT. AAA - LUNCH COURTYARD - DAY

Lucas arrives just as they watch Isadora get steered away from them. Jade grimaces. JEFF MONROE makes room for Lucas.

Jeff: Well, that’s an unexpected twist.

Nate: Damn ugly one at that.

Lucas, deadpan: Given how today is going so far, can’t say I’m fucking surprised.

INT. AAA - CAFETERIA - DAY

Isadora joins Zay and Riley at Maya’s table, all of them happy to have her join them. As they launch into eager conversation about what their number might be like, the girls agree that they’ll meet after school at Maya’s place to start rehearsing.

Although unintentional, Riley’s attempts to contribute to the conversation are brushed over. She gives up about halfway through, focusing on her food instead and keeping quiet.

INT. MAYA’S APARTMENT - DAY

So meet up Isadora and Maya do, the latter already launching into a myriad of ideas and energetically going on and on about how their voices should compliment one another and they’ll have no trouble getting Isa up to snuff on her dancing. Isadora tries to keep up, finding ways to get a word in and contribute which Maya eagerly builds upon.

Once they take a second to breathe, Maya states that she’s glad they decided to be partners. There’s an electricity in the air… perhaps a duet is coming on…

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Popular” as performed by Wicked Original Broadway Cast || Performed by Maya Hart (feat. Isadora De La Cruz)

The rendition of the Broadway classic picks up right from the start, Maya declaring that Isadora is going to be her new “project.” As the number unfolds, both girls dance around the apartment, don some of Maya’s fancier knock-off clothes, totally fall into the theatrics of the number.

Just as Maya is giving the declarative “Look at you, you’re beautiful” line, it’s not a fear of the new friendship but a text message that disrupts the number. Isadora checks her phone, reading whatever text she just received and growing panicked. She hastily exclaims she has to go, Maya calling a playful “you’re welcome” after her.

Maya finishes out the song on her own, at as full Galinda power as ever.

EXT. AAA - DAY

Isadora is rushing back up the steps to school, cursing out a “shit” with every step she takes. The sounds of heavy equipment being moved float in...

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

While the performers have vacated the premises the auditorium is buzzing with activity, all of the techies present for their annual technical inventory. Students from every grade are in attendance, the freshmen learning the ropes from the upperclassmen of what goes into one of their most important days of the year.

Lucas is overseeing the inventorying of the items in the construction racks, DAVE WILLIAMS digging through the wood and two-by-fours to shout to him how many pieces they currently have. Lucas makes him count again, reminding him they need an accurate take on all of their materials before Shawn goes and places the order for the year before the first production.

Isadora clambers in and pushes through the underclassmen, searching for Lucas. He rolls his eyes when she spots him, not waiting up for her as he continues his march around with the clipboard she was supposed to be carrying.

Lucas: Look who decided to show up.

Isadora: I’m so sorry. I totally spaced.

Lucas: No kidding. I mean, if you have better things to do --

Isadora: I’m here, aren’t I? What can I do to help? Give me something to do.

Lucas exhales a sigh, shrugging and stating that she can do a walkabout and see who might need help. He feels like they’ve got it covered, though, so maybe she should just go.

Isadora swallows the sting over the dismissal and pushes past it, grasping for a new conversation to ease the tension. She asks him what ended up happening with his assignment, who did he get partnered with? Lucas scowls.

Lucas: I don’t want to talk about it.

INT. MINKUS HOME - DAY

Farkle is seated on the couch in the living room, helping EZRA MINKUS with his homework. Ezra is working hard, but Farkle is zoned out. When his little brother complains about his half-hearted state, he snaps out of it but argues against the fact that he’s acting any sort of way. Regardless, it’s evident that Ezra greatly values the attention of his favorite brother.

JENNIFER MINKUS comes into the living room, jokingly commenting that it’s such a surprise to see Farkle out of his bedroom. He’s been acting too much like Uri as of late. She asks if it’s nice to be back at school and in routine, also seeing how he’s feeling. She touches his forehead to check his temperature.

Farkle shrugs away from the touch, brushing off the topic and instead focusing on school. He complains about the current assignment they’re doing.

Jennifer: Who are you working with, then? Maya?

Farkle: [ with a snort ] I wish. I mean, she wishes. No, I’m stuck with Lucas.

Jennifer: Lucas? Is that the shifty-looking one who used to chase you around during class and threaten you with power tools?

Farkle: Only in theory. But yes.

Jennifer: … well, I suppose it’s nice you’ve become… friends, then.

Farkle looks disgusted at the notion. He goes back to focusing on Ezra’s homework page.

Farkle: Believe me, we are not friends.

INT. AAA - JACK’S OFFICE - DAY

To that end, Jack is meeting with Lucas to discuss his feelings over being partnered with Farkle. He also takes the opportunity to lightly broach the topic of his absence earlier during the first week and his overall… headspace coming off of how last year ended.

Although it’s the first we’ve seen of Lucas being back in Jack’s office this season, the atmosphere between them is comfortable. Lucas looks perfectly at home in the chair across from Jack’s desk. The friction from the start of last year is long gone, instead building on the familiarity and rapport the two of them started to build during the spring.

Still, that doesn’t mean Lucas is an easy conversationalist. He’s surprisingly aloof about the duet assignment, but it’s a clear projection that Jack can see right through. For all the effort Jack puts into trying to have an honest dialogue, he doesn’t get very far, but it’s clear that he’s taking this unique position he has with a student like Lucas more seriously than before.

Jack: I’m only trying to see where your head’s at.

Lucas: Sure you wanna go down that rabbit hole? [ Cheekily. ] Scary place.

Jack, deadpan: Yes, I’m quaking. [ a beat ] I just want you recognize that I’m listening. There’s a place for you to express your opinions.

Lucas blinks at him, the conversation taking on a more meaningful slant. For a moment, it seems as though he might actually say something of value.

Lucas: … I gotta go.

He doesn’t wait for approval, slipping out the door and back into the crowd transitioning between classes. Jack sighs, sauntering out after him.

INT. AAA - ATRIUM - DAY

As Jack emerges from the front office, he takes a second to look around him. The students running from place to place, the school day continuing on in spite of everything that has unfolded in these halls. He looks at it all with a mixture of pride and exhaustion -- for all the things they’ve built in these walls, there’s so much work to be done.

Something has to make the struggle worth it. Something has to give the job meaning…

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “A Sentimental Man” as performed by Wicked Original Broadway Cast || Performed by Jack Hunter

The song conveys just that, highlighting Jack’s attachment to the school and the students as he wanders the halls. He feels responsible for all of the students in their care, and wants to help them reach their greatest potential with any opportunities they can offer them.

Where the lyrics shift focus to Elphaba, Jack’s focus shifts to Lucas. He watches from afar as Lucas closes his locker and disappears into the crowd, expressing his dedication to making sure he’s taking advantage of all he’s capable of just like everyone else (“Cause I think everyone deserves the chance to fly…”)

Case in point, Jack takes his role at AAA quite seriously, and he intends to zero in on one of their most troubled students. For whatever reason he’s been granted a shred of respect and trust where others have not, and he’s not going to waste it.

As the orchestration peters out, he leisurely makes his way back to the office.

INT. AAA - DANCE STUDIO - DAY

Zay and Charlie are rehearsing together in their usual studio, having put in a good morning workout. Charlie is in the process of stretching while Zay texts with Riley about their assignment, the former teasing him about he doesn’t take his cool down routine nearly serious enough. One day, it’s really going to come back to bite him.

Zay: It’s fine, I know my own body. I’ve got bionic muscles.

Charlie: That can’t be true.

Zay: It’s… it’s a joke. Like bionic… God, you are hopeless.

Charlie changes tracks, noting his frustration about how things are between him and Riley. He feels like there’s a wall up between them ever since the AAAC, and he doesn’t know how to fix it. As Zay comes and takes his hands to help pull him to his feet, Charlie questions if he’d be willing to keep an ear out since they’re working together this week.

Zay: I mean, I’m not going to be your spy or anything, but if it comes up I’ll see what I can figure out.

At this point, Charlie will take anything. He gives him an appreciative nod.

INT. AAA - HALLWAY - DAY

Farkle is at his locker, reading through a text exchange with Lucas (listed simply in his contacts as Jackass.) Given the simple “no” that he sent in response to Farkle’s last message regarding their assignment, it seems like they won’t be doing much work on it at all.

All things considered, Farkle doesn’t seem bothered. He’s resigned as he unloads his books and grabs his rehearsal duffle, surprised when Eric calls to him from down the hall. He asks if he has a moment for a quick chat. From the expression on his face, that seems like the last thing Farkle wants to do, but he obliges.

INT. AAA - ERIC’S OFFICE - DAY

It’s clear that Farkle is not at all relaxed in Eric’s usually comforting space. He avoids eye contact as Eric starts a conversation with him, asking how he’s feeling about the new year given everything that unfolded at the end of last semester. They haven’t exactly had the chance to unpack all of that.

Farkle shrugs it off, jittery as he sits under Eric’s psychological microscope. When the focus shifts to his sudden partnership with Lucas, Farkle seizes the opportunity to seem affable and claims that he’ll put in a more pointed effort to get that duet up and running. If it will get the well-meaning counselor off his back, he’ll do just about anything.

Eric starts to double back to everything that remains turned upside from last year, but the bell ringing for class gives Farkle the excuse to bolt. He requests a late pass, already gearing up to get the hell out of there.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

Charlie, YINDRA AMINO, and Zay are talking on stage when Riley wanders over to join them, intending to discuss the project with Zay. There’s an awkward beat as she acknowledges Charlie, but avoids looking at him any further through the duration of the conversation.

However, the universe has other plans. In the midst of discussing their song choice, Dylan flutters over and starts to drag Zay away, reminding him that he agreed to help him and Asher with the staging of their assignment. Yindra also gets distracted, NIGEL CHEY pulling her into a different discussion. Suddenly, it’s just Riley and Charlie, stuck in conversation after not speaking to one another for months.

Charlie speaks first, trying to find a clever way to break the ice. It doesn’t work, so he instead switches into apologizing about everything with the AAAC.

Charlie: Look, I’m sorry about the Instagram. I shouldn’t have done what I did. Everything just blew up so fast, and --

Riley: Charlie, please, stop. I get what you’re trying to do, trust me. I’ve been attempting to smooth things over because of that stupid page basically since summer. But I’m not… I’m not ready to deal with this yet. With you.

Charlie is evidently disappointed. He wants to fix it, but he doesn’t know how. Especially given that he can’t give her a good reason for why it happened.

Riley: I can’t even figure out why you would -- I’m just not there yet. To forgive you, let alone forget. I’m sorry.

Either way, he can take a hint. He nods and backs off, Zay returning just in time to get a full dose of the strain. He tries to say something to ease the tension, but Riley simply tells him they’ll catch up later and excuses herself.

In the house, Farkle is straggling after Lucas and attempting to negotiate with him as they walk through the aisles towards the booth. Although he isn’t keen to do the assignment either, he thinks they need to do something just to get everyone off their backs.

Lucas: Look, pick whatever stupid loud song you wanna do, and I’ll put the spotlight on you and we’ll call it a day. There. Assignment finished.

Solid plan, but Farkle still isn’t convinced. Although he’s stuck with his least favorite person, he’s dying to have an actual conversation with someone rather than continuing to stay isolated. It’s a paradoxical dilemma, and he ends up suggesting they still meet to go over logistics anyway.

Lucas does his equivalent of a feral cat growl, but agrees. He can set the place to meet and he’ll give him fifteen minutes of his time.

INT. AAA - HALLWAY - DAY

Zay and Riley are leaving the auditorium together, deciding where they’ll meet for their after school rehearsal. For once it seems as though Riley has his full attention… until Maya swoops in, asking for help with her and Isadora’s choreography. She pulls him away, Riley somehow alone in the hall again.

She hesitates, looking around her and not knowing where to go. She spots CLARISSA CRUZ, HALEY FISHER, and Darby together chatting and starts in that direction, but they disperse before she can get close enough to join them. It’s a no go on the techies, seated on the steps outside the side entrance to the auditorium. It’s a no on Farkle, standing at his locker alone.

It’s a no on Lucas, although Riley clearly wishes it wasn’t. She watches from afar as he shuts his locker and takes off in the opposite direction, not even casting a backwards glance in her direction. With a sigh, she wanders over to her locker.

Inside the door, it’s practically a relic of the way things used to be. There are pictures from the past year much like Farkle’s locker, only the way Riley’s are arranged demonstrate the care and love she puts into maintaining them. It’s evidence of a different time, when she felt like she knew who she was and who her friends were.

She hesitates on a photo of her, Lucas, and Isadora, then drifts to one set up right below it. It’s solely of Lucas, taken sometime around last year’s duet assignment when they were spending a lot of time together alone. Feels like a million years ago.

Riley glances to her phone, finding the message thread between the two of them. The last messages were sent months ago -- early in the summer, apologies from Riley and a plead to talk about things that went unanswered.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Talk To Me” as performed by Bye Bye Birdie! Original Broadway Cast || Performed by Riley Matthews (feat. Asher Garcia, Nigel Chey, Charlie Gardner, and Nick Yogi)

As Riley closes her locker, she leans back against the metal and launches into the melancholy Broadway tune. It concisely captures her frustration with the situation at hand -- hoping that Lucas can’t just be completely over her, knowing that if they just had the chance to talk things through things might be different.

This is accented by different cuts to Riley watching him from afar and wondering the same things; in class, in the auditorium, separated by the courtyard windows during lunch. It’s similar to her former 50s crooner in 1.07, although the circumstances are more fraught than the simplicity of back then.

The barbershop quartet comes in the form of Asher, Nigel, Charlie, and Yogi, who saunter into the hall behind her and provide the vocal backing for her musical plea. They’re dressed in matching color-coordinated vests, obviously not an actual presence in the scene but more so a figment of Riley’s imagination.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

They also serve the purpose of dancing with Riley, intercut through the other sequences. It’s all reminiscent of the dancing she used to do with Lucas -- up to the grand swell about 2 minutes in where her imagination fills in that gap. For a brief reprieve, it is Lucas dancing with her…

INT. AAA - HALLWAY - DAY

Until reality disrupts the dream. Riley nearly rams into Lucas in the hallway, him catching her from stumbling on instinct. There’s a moment where they lock eyes, all of the potential in the world between them…

Then Lucas walks away. He slides past her, leaving her standing there.

The quartet takes over the last vocals as Riley ends up back where she started, alone in the hallway with nowhere to go. She’s stranded herself, and the only person she truly wants to talk to is the one already walking away.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “God Is A Woman” as performed by Ariana Grande || Instrumental

Ariana is playing through Isadora’s bluetooth speaker, banged up and cheap but gets the job done. She and Maya are walking through steps for a potential routine to the pop hit, the latter speeding through it and enthusiastically discussing how certain elements will work in the final performance.

Farkle enters through the dressing room doors just as they’re running through steps for the chorus. He hangs back in the shadows and watches from the wings, witnessing his own replacement happening in real time.

Isadora is doing her best to keep up. Interestingly enough, she’s starting to look a little bit more like Maya -- her hair has been styled with more care than usual, and the color palette of her outfit is lighter, complementing the pink and white that Maya wears. Her lips have a bit of a shine to them, the most neutral lip gloss Isa could find amongst Catherina’s extensive makeup collection.

But she’s nowhere near at the same rehearsal level as the reigning diva yet, so she gives up about halfway through and claims she can’t do this. Maya jogs and pauses the music.

The two of them debrief, Maya offering to walk Isadora through whatever steps she might be having trouble with. But it’s not the routine itself, it’s everything. It’s just a lot to adjust to at once, so she just needs some time to get used to it. She’ll keep practicing, but it isn’t clicking right now. Maya grants her the right to take a break, Isadora heading out through the other doors by the costume loft.

Farkle waits until Maya is alone to make himself known, stepping into the stage lights and making snarky commentary on how her new pet project doesn’t seem to be going so smoothly. She brushes him off and continues to gather her things.

But he doesn’t want the conversation to end. This is the most attention she’s paid him in weeks, and he doesn’t want to let it go. So he keeps it going the only way he can think of by digging the knife in further, insinuating that she must’ve had to stoop low if she had to go through the techies to try and find someone to replace him.

Maya turns on him, giving him her full attention as she tells him off. Despite what he might believe, she’s not using Isadora, and certainly not to fill some void he thinks he left. He shouldn’t flatter himself that much importance.

Maya: Izzy isn't just some “project” for me. Believe it or not, I don't compartmentalize my friendships by how they most benefit me.

The tension takes on a familiar slant, a competitive edge emerging that needs to be expressed through music. Clarissa and Haley enter together with their cellos just as Farkle and Maya are staring each other down, claiming that they booked the auditorium for this time slot. So what are they doing there? And aren’t they not partners this week?

Maya states they’re just in time, as they can help wrap this all up. When Haley is like “but we came to rehearse our thing,” Maya doesn’t seem bothered.

Maya: Consider it a warm-up… if you can keep up.

Clarissa and Haley roll their eyes, but they settle in anyway. The faster they can let them get out their antics, the faster they can actually rehearse.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Smooth Criminal” as performed by Glee Cast || Performed by Farkle Minkus & Maya Hart (feat. Clarissa Cruz & Haley Fisher)

Clarissa and Haley carry the heft of this number on their cellos, Maya and Farkle parading around them and channeling all their frustration with one another into the vocals. It’s an electric duet, and for what it’s worth, it’s the most energized Farkle has seemed since the school year started. There’s actual passion behind the performance, which he’s been lacking for some time.

It’s also undeniable that the two of them make excellent partners. They’re perfectly matched, as they have been since they met. There’s no one else who challenges them like the other to raise the bar, and there’s an appreciation of the other’s talent present despite how at odds they are.

But one quick duet isn’t going to set things right. Although Farkle seems to have gotten something meaningful out of the exchange, he’s obviously surprised when Maya continues to dismiss him as soon as they’re wrapped. She gathers her things and floats out with no more than a short goodbye.

Farkle swallows, not taking the rejection well. Clarissa and Haley break him out of it, asking if he can leave already so they can rehearse. Haven’t they done enough?

Backing off, he makes a dash for the dressing rooms.

INT. AAA - BOYS DRESSING ROOM - DAY

Given his shaken state, Farkle seems to be taking this harder than just a duet gone sour. He stumbles into the dressing room, leaning against the counter and trying to calm his breathing. His hands are shaking.

He lifts his gaze, looking at himself in the mirror. It doesn’t seem like he likes what he sees. He curses under his breath, suddenly feeling like it’s a thousand degrees. He pulls off his sweater, leaving him in his plain tee as he crumbles into a sitting position against the mirror and haphazardly bundling the garment in his hands.

Above him, the wall clock ticks to a new minute --

INT. AAA - PRACTICE ROOM - DAY

Just as the clock in the practice room does, where Lucas is sitting alone. He glances around him with mild interest and obvious distrust, having never been in this part of the school before. He taps his feet impatiently, checking his watch.

Clearly, Farkle isn’t coming. Rolling his eyes, Lucas gets to his feet. He takes some of the writing utensils from the communal stash just because he can, kicking at the piano bench for good measure before marching out.

INT. GARDNER HOME - LIVING ROOM - DAY

Charlie is seated on the couch with his homework, half paying attention while ROSIE GARDNER and DAISY GARDNER watch a show together. Daisy is playing with their beagle SKIPPY on the floor in front of the couch, making a face at something that plays out on screen.

Daisy: Why the heck did that happen? That doesn’t make any sense.

Rosie: It’s network TV, it doesn’t have to make sense.

To Rosie’s curiosity, Charlie doesn’t seem all that interested in the show. He’s focused on his phone instead, rereading his last text from Zay. He’s asking if he’s alright after the weird exchange he and Riley must’ve had, given how off things felt when he walked back over.

He wants to talk to him about it, but he’s not just going to give him a call while hanging out with his sisters. Especially not when they’re so nosy.

Rosie: Who are you texting?

Charlie: Huh? What? No one.

Rosie: Yeah you are. Your messages are open.

Charlie: Am I typing? No.

Daisy: Why are you acting surprised? He’s always on his phone.

Charlie: No I am not.

Rosie: Yeah you are. You basically live on it. It’s like you’re in love with it.

Daisy: [ laughing ] Charlie has a girlfriend.

Charlie: Shut up, no I don’t.

Daisy: Yeah you do. The phone.

Rosie: I don’t know where, but I’m positive there has to be something in the Bible about how love between man and technology is unholy.

Charlie: I bet if you look hard enough, you’ll find the verse where it says you’re annoying.

Daisy: Being annoying isn’t a sin. I’ve checked.

Both Rosie and Charlie seem to want to know more about that, but ELEANOR GARDNER entering interrupts the conversation. She explains what she’s planning on making for dinner, and then offhandedly mentions that someone needs to walk Skippy.

A lightbulb goes off for Charlie. He loudly volunteers to do it, demonstrating a little too much enthusiasm for something like walking their family beagle. But aside from judgmental expressions from his sisters, the moment passes without question. Charlie whistles for Skippy to follow him, going to grab the leash.

INT. AAA - DANCE STUDIO - DAY

Zay and Riley have convened for rehearsal, in the midst of walking through some harmonies together. It’s clear that Riley is enjoying the quality time. At least if everyone else seems to have inevitably lost interest in her, she still has her first friend.

After they decide on a certain chord progression, Zay subtly changes the subject and asks about what happened in class today. When he came back to work, things seemed pretty icy between her and Charlie. Riley doesn’t want to talk about it, but after a little bit of prodding she admits to the fact that it’s hard to warm up to him again. Not only because he so blatantly used her without any sort of signs, but more so because she has no clue why he did it. It would be easier to grapple with if she had a sense of closure around it, or a clear motive.

Zay obviously wants to grant her that, but he knows it’s not his place. He grows distracted anyway, getting a text from Charlie asking if he can meet him on his walk with Skippy. Zay jumps at the opportunity and tells Riley he has to go, promising they’ll pick this back up tomorrow. He’s booking it before she can argue against it, once again leaving her in the dust.

INT. CHUBBIE’S DINER - DAY

Maya saunters into the diner, nodding at some of the familiar busboys before hopping up to the counter to chat with KATY HART. Her mother senses her mood before she even opens her mouth, asking if something happened at school.

Maya goes on to lament the situation with Farkle as Katy slides a slice of pie across the counter towards her. She immediately digs in, accenting her frustration with stabs of her fork. She recounts the encounter with Farkle and derides his accusation that she’s simply replacing him with Isadora.

Katy: Well… do you feel like that’s what you’re doing?

Maya: No. No, I’m not. God forbid I like other people or make new friends. Maybe I like Isadora because she’s badass and talented and could also kill a man if she had to.

Katy: Ah, the true quality of a good friendship…

Maya: It’s not fair. It’s not fair of him to waltz in and act like I’m the one being shady when he’s the one who blew everything up in the first place. And then make it feel like a crime to move on. I shouldn’t have to feel bad about dropping someone who I don’t trust.

Katy is, of course, on Maya’s side. She agrees wholeheartedly, and even states that she likes that she’s branched outside of her usual circle. Isadora seems like a nice change of pace, and it’s always beneficial to make a friend who can teach you something rather than reflect the world you’re already familiar with.

On the other hand, she points out that there’s a whole side to this experience that Maya doesn’t know about. Neither of them have any idea what’s going on with Farkle, and it’s possible that his actions are less about her and more about his own attempts to grapple with the situation.

Katy: It’s impossible to know why people do the things they do until they tell you. And most of the time, it’s rarely a cut-and-dry reasoning anyway. There are so many different motivating factors at play, especially at your age.

Maya doesn’t seem convinced, stabbing at the pie and taking a grumpy bite. Katy finishes her musing, going on to state that nine times out of ten, people are acting out of their own insecurities rather than anything to do with the people who they’re confronting. Could be fear, could be jealousy, could be self-preservation…

EXT. NEW YORK STREETS - DAY

Charlie is walking along with Skippy, distracted as he waits for Zay to show up. He nearly jumps out of his skin when Zay sneaks up behind him, poking him in the ribs and surprising him. Charlie elbows him as he falls into step beside him, beginning to discuss what he wanted to talk about in the first place.

Zay gets right to the point, stating that he thinks Charlie should consider just… telling Riley the truth. It’s hard for her to hear him out when she has literally no clue why he even did it, and most of the reasons she’s probably contemplating make him look far worse than making her his unwitting beard for a sense of protection.

As logical as this reasoning is, Charlie does not seem ready to consider such a notion.

Charlie: What? No. I can’t do that.

Zay: Dare I ask, why not? I mean, not like why, I know why obviously.

Charlie: Yeah.

Zay: But like, Riley Matthews is the last person you should be concerned about knowing. She’s like the nicest human being alive, and also is part of the community. And I seriously doubt she’d ever say anything to anyone if you didn’t --

Charlie cuts him off, not able to wrap his head around it. He wants to make things right with her, but that kind of option is off the table. Zay seems a bit frustrated with this mindset, as it doesn’t bode well for their relationship if he’s still so deeply entrenched in keeping all of it a secret… but he also understands. Of course he does.

It’s a complicated situation, and there is no easy solution. So they’ll keep walking the tightrope, looking for compromises along the way…

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

The techies are convened at their usual spot in the back section, chatting in the morning before class. Isadora comes to visit them, but she looks different. She’s suddenly looking a lot more like a Maya carbon copy, her makeup enhanced with a darker lip gloss and eye makeup. Her outfit is made up of borrowed clothes from Maya and Catherina -- a high-waisted denim skirt with sheer dark tights, and dark sweater with a collar peeking out, a sparkling butterfly brooch pinned to the right lapel.

Lucas descends from the booth, decidedly disturbed as soon as he sees her. He asks her what the hell happened to her, and she claims she’s just trying a new look. Stretching her sense of style.

Nate: More like getting swallowed by it.

Isadora isn’t sure how to defend herself. To be honest, it’s not the worst to be dressed confidently like Maya, but she’d be lying if she claimed it felt true to her. Lucas can’t even look at her, pushing past her and heading out.

Lucas: If you’ll excuse me, I have to go bash my head into the wall until I wake up from this nightmare. Let me know when you’ve stopped being possessed by mini-Christina.

Dave: Applegate? I thought she was great in Alvin and the Chipmunks: The Squeakquel.

Asher: … I think he means Aguilera.

Dave: Oh.

Once Lucas is gone, Asher and Dylan assure Isadora that they think she looks fine. Jade agrees, even offering to help personalize it with some more Isa-like touches if that would be ideal. Isadora contemplates it, telling her she’ll get back to her on that.

INT. AAA - BLACK BOX THEATER - DAY

Shawn comes by Harper’s classroom, sauntering in as he announces that it seems the Lucas and Farkle “simple solution” isn’t going so well. How does he know? Because Lucas just informed him that Farkle blew off their second attempt at a meeting.

Shawn: Still so sure about your brilliant little fix?

Harper is unimpressed by his condescending attitude, sticking to her guns. She rises to her feet, coming around her desk to speak plainly with him.

Harper: So you would rather bend to their poor behavior and reward them for it, rather than, I don’t know… teach them to get along? Or punish such bad antics?

Shawn, seriously: Listen. There’s a very delicate balance at play here with these students that you don’t understand. The least you could do is take the advice of those who know better than you.

To be fair, Shawn isn’t entirely wrong. But his delivery is terrible, and Harper grows offended at the insinuation. Before she can retort, Clarissa and Haley arrive to complain about how Maya and Farkle used their rehearsal space unfairly.

This is about the tenth time Harper has taken a specific complaint about Farkle Minkus. She starts to construct a solution for them to consider, but Shawn intervenes and offers his own two cents. Once again talking over her without giving her the chance to learn the ropes or contribute.

Haley and Clarissa thank Shawn, not caring about who gives them the advice. Shawn tosses Harper one more stressed look, warning her to think a little as he storms out.

Oh, boy, is she going to think a little. And more than that, she’s going to take action.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

Harper has pulled both Lucas and Farkle aside after class is dismissed for lunch, informing them that they’ll both be spending the break in detention in her classroom. Given that neither of them have provided her updates about their project, she’s certain they could use the designated collaboration time. That way, perhaps, they’ll at least scrape together a passing grade.

Both of them seem less than enthused, glaring at each other.

INT. AAA - HALLWAY - DAY

Riley is heading towards the lunchroom, but looking through the doors at all her classmates milling about and continuing on with or without her, it suddenly feels like too much. She spins on her heel and heads in a different direction.

INT. AAA - CORY’S CLASSROOM - DAY

Riley pokes her head in, finding Cory opening lunch at his desk. He seems surprised but happy to see her, granting her an invitation to join him when she asks if she can come in. He playfully questions why she would bother to do such a thing, giving her the opportunity to unpack what’s going on.

She sort of expresses her current feelings of isolation, explaining the general idea of the problem at hand and how she feels kind of left behind. Some of her friendships aren’t in the shape they used to be, and she doesn’t have a sense of belonging anymore.

Cory, being the dreamer that he is, encourages her to keep putting her best foot forward. In his opinion, the best thing she can do is to keep her chin high and refuse to be ignored. Not let those friends go without a fight, if they’re truly friends she wants to keep.

It’s well-meant and thoughtful advice, but nothing he hasn’t told her before. Riley seems disillusioned as she starts to chew on her lunch.

INT. AAA - CAFETERIA - DAY

Maya and Isadora are eating lunch together, sharing a table with Zay, Nigel, and Yindra. They’re dissecting the problem of progressing on their duet, Isadora admitting that part of it is that this is the first true performance she has to give in front of the class. Let alone alongside someone as strong as Maya. She’s just not prepared for it.

It’s stage fright, plain and simple. Maya claims she just needs to stop overthinking it, that no one is going to be focused on anything but how awesome they are. An idea seems to strike her as she’s explaining how to accomplish just that… that all Isadora needs to do is break the initial performance anxiety. And, well...

Maya, deviously: No better time than the present.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Looking At Me” as performed by Sabrina Carpenter || Performed by Maya Hart (feat. AAA Juniors)

Pushing up from the table, Maya launches us into our first big blowout number of the season. She playfully begins the iconic pop anthem, pulling her classmates into the fun as she goes and relaying the message loud and clear -- Isadora has nothing to worry about, because everyone will be looking at her anyway.

The lyrics “Don’t just stand there staring, honey, try to move your feet,” are directed at her duet partner, tugging Isadora into the fray and giving her the encouragement to just lose herself in the number. The two of them dance together a fair amount throughout the jam session.

The other reason it’s such a major number is because it’s the first number that loosely incorporates everyone. It carries the same energy as “Dancin’ On the Sidewalk” from all those months ago, only there’s no Lucas around to set off the alarm. And maybe he should be, because the performance is definitely fire.

The dancing has kicked up ten notches. Maya has small moments with Zay and Charlie, who also serve to lead other groups. The two of them also dance a little with each other, although evidently less comfortably than we know they could. Maya spins Isadora to dance with other fellow performers, and while she stumbles a bit at first, the more she gets into it the more confident she becomes. She’s engaging with others, focusing less on what they’re thinking and just having fun.

And when Lucas is away, the techie tots will play. There are a couple key shots of Asher and Dylan dancing together, charming as ever but also showing off that they’re maybe... actually good performers? Dave and Nate are grooving on the table tops. Nigel pulls Jade into a spin, getting her to join the dance. Jeff does some signature break-dancing.

It’s energetic. It’s a showstopping vocal from Maya, who ends it on a split with a hair flip and wink. It’s fun more than anything else, which feels groundbreaking for a semester that has felt so heavy with unresolved tension.

Now we’ve truly kicked off the season.

INT. AAA - BLACK BOX THEATER - DAY

The fun is not being felt in the black box, where Lucas and Farkle are trapped for detention. They’re sitting in silence, Farkle keeping his head down and waiting for the torture to cease.

Lucas isn’t making it easy. His version of whittling time away involves tapping his pencil, restless and fidgety as they wait for their sentence to end. He’s like a one-man drum show. Farkle lifts his head in irritation, glaring at him even though Lucas hardly pays him any attention. It takes Farkle snapping to get him to stop, startling him enough to drop the pencil.

Farkle grumbles about how of course he had to get stuck with the worst human being at AAA. Lucas claims that’s rich coming from him, pointing out that it’s both of them that are stuck in here alone with one another.

Lucas, mockingly: Maybe, in some sick, twisted way, we’re not so different. That’s what they want us to learn, isn’t it?

Farkle: Don’t make me laugh. Like I would ever be compared to you. I’m not so immured by self-satisfaction and smugness that I can’t recognize how useless I am.

[ Lucas doesn’t seem irritated by this assessment. He smirks, nodding along as Farkle reads him for filth. ]

Farkle: I don’t try to bring everybody else down to my level by constantly tearing down their passions until all that’s left is my insatiable need to burn down every good thing that crosses my path just for the sake of chaos. Just to fucking feel something other than my own overwhelming mediocrity that’s going to keep me directionless and alone for the rest of my sorry existence.

Lucas: … maybe so. But I think I should point out that it’s both of us who were deemed too unbearable by the rest of our peers.

Farkle glowers at him until he can’t stomach his detached expression any longer, looking away and gritting his teeth. While they may hate one another, the fact of the matter is so does everyone else. So there they are, stuck in hell together and facing the consequences.

The silence is suffocating with the truth eating away all the oxygen in the room. When the bell rings it’s an immediate relief, Lucas jumping to his feet.

Lucas: Well, I think we can both agree this assignment is not fucking happening. Guess we’ll be taking the L.

Farkle: … maybe so.

Lucas nods, not wasting another second to get away from him. Farkle doesn’t move nearly as fast, still processing the reality Lucas forced him to confront.

INT. HARPER’S APARTMENT - NIGHT

Harper is having dinner with her girlfriend, STELLA CASTILLO (27). She’s also a former alumni of AAA, and their dynamic somewhat seems to mirror Isadora and Maya in terms of personality. Stella is lively, opinionated, and not at all impressed by the behavior of Shawn and the students as Harper laments the treatment she’s been navigating.

Stella gives Harper the pep talk she’s been needing, reminding her that she’s perfectly qualified to be in this position. She needs to trust her gut.

Stella: Look, you know about Triple A, alright? You endured that school, you survived it, which is way more than John or whoever can say for himself.

Harper: Shawn.

Stella: Like it matters. The point is that you’re a badass, you’re in control, and you should not be bending to the criticism of some grumpy white dude who thinks he’s the authority on a job his older brother gave him when he was having his mid-life crisis.

True words, even if the nuances to the situation are a bit more complex. Harper thanks her, taking her hand and allowing her to lean forward and give her a kiss.

Still, the universe seems to disagree…

Jack, pre-lap: This has nothing to do with your ability.

INT. AAA - JACK’S OFFICE - DAY

Jack is meeting with Harper before school. From the expression on his face it’s evident he’s apologetic, whereas she simply seems peeved. She’s squinting at him, attempting to keep up with their conversation.

Jack: Believe me, I hired you for a reason. You know I think you’re more than capable of handling this job. But Shawn is correct in that this crop of students… they’re a unique group, like I’ve said. He might be right in that it could help for you to pay attention to --

Harper: So, what? Your baby brother decided to come crying to you about things not going his way, rather than discussing it with me like an adult?

Jack assures her that he’s not on anybody’s side, and he just wants to find a way for them to work effectively together and in a way that best benefits the students. But Harper is so angry at that point she sort of tunes him out, simply smiling and nodding along.

INT. AAA - ATRIUM - DAY

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “I Can Do Better” as performed by LOVA || Performed by Harper Burgess

As Harper emerges from the office, the opening whistles ease us into this sassy “fuck you” of a feminist anthem. As she marches through the halls in her leather-clad, badass fury, there is a certain power to her finally expressing all of her resentment towards the men who have been giving her grief since she stepped into the position (even in spite of all the complexities to each situation).

The AAA girls back her in passing, echoing the empowering sentiments. It’s a simple arrangement, but Harper’s delivery alone packs a real punch.

INT. AAA - GIRLS DRESSING ROOM - DAY

Isadora is in the dressing room when Riley arrives that morning, the two of them hesitating when they see one another. It’s been a hot minute since they’ve actually had direct contact, and although both of them don’t seem unhappy to see the other, they have no idea where they stand.

Riley makes a small joke about her new look, admitting that she actually thought she was Maya for a second. Although the comment is harmless, after enduring similar commentary all week long Isadora finds herself snapping at her. She’s sick of everyone making those judgements and throwing their opinions at her.

Riley is quick to apologize, explaining that she didn’t mean anything by it. Awkward silence settles between them again, but it’s clear that Isadora feels bad about the way things are.

Isadora: I… I don’t know how to handle this situation.

Riley: I know.

Isadora: With you, and with Lucas --

She cuts herself off, not even sure she should bring him up around her. Riley nods along, already knowing where this conversation is heading. Another dismissal. Before Isadora can say anything more, she beats her to it.

Riley: I just… I know how easy it is to get caught up in being someone else because you think it’ll make things easier. It’s easier to be someone else, sometimes… but I gotta tell you, the Dora I knew? [ a beat ] She’s already tough to beat.

Riley offers one more tight smile, finishing dropping her things. She leaves Isadora alone, hanging on that moment of kindness in spite of the strain.

INT. AAA - BLACK BOX THEATER - DAY

Harper marches into her classroom, still steaming. Farkle is there, waiting for her to inform her that he and Lucas weren’t able to reach an agreement. He doesn’t think he’ll be turning in anything this week after all.

Whereas this behavior might’ve flown with Angela, it’s not going to fly with Harper. Especially not now, when it feels like the entire world is against her. So Farkle inevitably ends up on the other end of all her anger, receiving a true verbal lashing.

Harper: Oh, is that so? You just don’t think it’ll happen? That all?

Farkle: I’m just saying, given the circumstances you forced me into --

Harper: No, no, I won’t be taking your blame, Mister Minkus. I don’t know what kind of treatment you’re used to from Miss Moore, but I’m not here to cater to your petulance. I’m here to teach you, which you might have known had you deemed it worthy to show up on the first day.

Farkle, stunned: I… I was sick --

Harper: Well, here’s your quick make-up lesson. There will be no more doing whatever you damn well please. I knew students just like you when I was enrolled here, Mister Minkus. You’re nothing new. And believe it or not, that horrible attitude of yours isn’t going to get a pass anymore.

[ Farkle is speechless. He looks a little sick as Harper concludes her tirade. ]

Harper: This isn’t last year. I’m not Miss Moore. And whether we like it or not, you better get ready for a whole lot of change.

Harper storms out, on her way to the auditorium. Farkle is shell-shocked, standing there in horror… until he suddenly bolts out of the door.

INT. AAA - BOYS BATHROOM - DAY

Farkle ducks into a stall just in time to vomit, whole body shaking as he collapses back against the wall. Only he’s not alone, which he discovers after the initial panic passes through him.

Charlie: … Farkle?

Farkle closes his eyes, cursing lightly to himself. When he pushes to his feet and emerges from the stall, Charlie is there at the sink and watching him warily. He tries to question if he’s okay, but Farkle ignores him and focuses on rinsing out his mouth at the adjacent sink.

Charlie can tell there’s something more going on than just an upset stomach. He’s familiar with the feeling, after all. He tries to find a way into the conversation, searching for a commonality to utilize as a bond.

Charlie: I get that this year isn’t turning out like we probably thought. [ sardonically ] I guess the confessions page didn’t do either of us any favors, huh?

Farkle is unimpressed by his attempt at bonding. In fact, the comparison sort of seems to piss him off. He turns on him, narrowing his eyes.

Farkle: Actually, I don’t think it’s quite the same. Because I didn’t feel so insecure in my own masculinity that I had to submit fake relationship posts about myself just to feel good, or maybe feel like I’m not just a background character in my own life.

Yikes. That’s a deep cut, and Charlie gets the message to back off. Farkle wipes his mouth with a paper towel and takes a deep breath, defaulting to defensive because it’s increasingly becoming all he knows how to be.

Farkle: So, no. I don’t think you have any idea.

Farkle flurries out. Although it’s clear his words stung, concern still lingers in Charlie’s features. Like he can sense something about the situation isn’t quite right.

INT. MATTHEWS APARTMENT - NIGHT

In a rare moment, Riley manages to catch TOPANGA LAWRENCE when she’s at home. She’s just finishing up a business call, pleasantly greeting Riley as she comes to join her at the kitchen table. Riley isn’t sure what she’s searching for as she starts the conversation -- advice, or maybe to simply be acknowledged by someone -- but she ends up asking for more time with her.

Riley: I know you’ve been doing a lot of small things with Auggie, and everything, so I was thinking that… I don’t know, maybe you and I could also --

Topanga: Oh, yes. Yes! Riley, I would love to do something. Some mother-daughter quality time would be spectacular.

Riley lights up, obviously happy about her mother’s enthusiasm. They begin attempting to sort out dates, although that quickly throws a wrench into things before they even get off the ground. Where Topanga is free this weekend, rehearsals for the musical are kicking up. When Riley is free, Topanga is balancing major trial meetings.

Topanga: Okay, I love this idea. But can we come back to this? Put a pin in it? I’ve just got a lot of stuff up in the air right now, I’ll be able to give it more focus after this deposition is wrapped and our divorce is fully finalized…

Riley internalizes her disappointment, giving her a smile and assuring her it’s no problem. Topanga reaches across the table and pats her arm, effectively ending the conversation.

INT. GARDNER HOME - CHARLIE’S ROOM - NIGHT

Charlie is on the phone with Zay, pacing his room as they talk. It’s clear that seeing Farkle so wigged out earlier really got to him, so he’s confronting some of his stressors head on.

Charlie: I just wanted you to know how sorry I am about how… weird all this has been. With my stupid thing. I know it’s been impacting… what we have.

Zay: It’s not stupid. You know I get it.

Charlie: Yeah, I know, but… [ with a sigh ] things were so much easier when school wasn’t a factor. I know I’ve been coming off like how you feel about this isn’t important, and that’s not true. I don’t feel that way. I wish it didn’t feel that way.

Zay continues to assure him that it’s fine, but his responses sound admittedly a little distracted. Charlie continues to pace, coming to lean against the door to his balcony.

Charlie: I just wish… in an ideal world, things would be different. We could just… be what we are, and we could be doing a duet together this week. Couldn’t it be that easy?

Zay: Well, don’t count that out just yet.

Charlie frowns, asking what he’s talking about. Zay tells him to come outside.

EXT. GARDNER HOME - CHARLIE’S BALCONY - NIGHT

Charlie steps out onto his balcony, stunned to see Zay jogging down the street. He’s both happy and horrified to see him, immediately shushing him as he greets him from down below.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Tonight” as performed by West Side Story Original Cast || Performed by Zay Babineaux & Charlie Gardner

In homage to the sequence in the Broadway classic, Charlie and Zay exchange an effortless back and forth reminiscent of the original film as the orchestra underscores them.

Zay: Come down.

Charlie: No. Are you crazy?

Zay: Just for a minute.

Charlie: [ gazing at him ] … a minute is nowhere near long enough.

Zay: For an hour, then.

Charlie: I can’t.

Zay, with humor: Then forever!

Charlie shushes him again, glancing over his shoulder to make sure his door is closed. Zay tells him he’s coming up, climbing his way along the side of the house to join him on his balcony. When he manages to clamber over the side Charlie immediately pulls him away from the edge, speaking in a hushed tone and claiming that he has to go. His parents will hear him, or see them. As he tries to argue the point Charlie shushes him again, Zay returning the gesture playfully.

It’s all fun and games until Eleanor knocks at the door, Charlie covering Zay’s mouth and responding to her questions of if he’s heading to bed. He lies and claims he is, Eleanor not questioning it and giving him a warm “goodnight, Chuckles,” through the door.

The two of them hang in silence for a long moment, Charlie grimacing as he realizes Zay just heard his embarrassing family nickname. He curses and pulls away from him, walking to the other end of the balcony as Zay clearly attempts to hold back a smile.

Zay: … Chuckles?

Charlie, embarrassed: Family nickname.

[ Zay laughs, but it’s endeared. He steps closer to him, earnest. ]

Zay: I like it. And you know, I think they’d like me.

Charlie: [ with a shake of his head ] No. They’re like I used to be. You know… scared.

There’s a beat of heaviness between them. Then Charlie exhales a laugh, shaking his head again and walking away from him as he absorbs the ridiculousness of the situation.

Charlie: Can you imagine? Being scared of Isaiah Babineaux?

Zay: [ laughing along ] See?

[ There’s a beat. Charlie looks at him, expression soft. ]

Charlie: I see you.

Zay, softer: … see only me.

Zay kicks off the song, taking Maria’s verses where Charlie takes Tony’s (specifically “There’s nothing for me but Isaiah / Every sight that I see is Isaiah”). The two of them harmonize together in the small confines of the balcony, dancing and spinning together where possible.

Where it was pretty obvious earlier that they were into one another, this is the moment where their chemistry and affection for another is impossible to deny. There’s something deeper than just attraction between them, growing more resolute with every day and every duet they share.

As it slows down before the second verse, Zay and Charlie have drifted awfully close together for being feet away from the rest of the Gardner household. Charlie manages to pull back from him simply to continue the dance, but as they wrap the first section of the song they end up inevitably back inches apart again.

Still, even the allure of Zay Babineaux isn’t yet powerful enough to make Charlie forget the way things are. He resists the urge to go for a kiss and instead claims he can’t stay, insisting that Zay should get going. Although he protests, Charlie’s soft “please” and bittersweet smile are convincing enough to make him oblige.

As Zay starts climbing down again, he hesitates. Thinking there’s one more thing he needs to say, lest he regret not vocalizing it in the moment.

Zay: You know, at the risk of sounding totally kitsch… [ turning around, locking eyes with him again ] You know you’re my favorite duet, right?

Charlie is clearly touched. A bashful smile crosses his features, and he manages a nod and a soft “yeah” of agreement. Zay returns the nod, giving him a fond smirk and lingering look before finishing the rest of the climb down the side of the house.

As he goes, Charlie leans forward against the balcony and watches him go. He hesitates before calling after Zay, double-checking that they’ll still meet up before school tomorrow. Zay agrees, starting to head down the street… until Charlie stops him again. He asks if they can ditch lunch and pay a visit to the costume loft instead. Zay rolls his eyes, but he’s obviously not opposed to the idea. He agrees, only making it a couple of steps before Charlie stops him one more time.

Charlie: Do you have a family nickname?

[ Zay pauses, debating whether or not to share it. Then he sighs, looking over his shoulder to deliver it. ]

Zay, reluctantly: “Dizzy.”

[ Charlie can’t help but laugh, but he’s appreciative of his willingness to share. His grin is fond as he gazes down at him. ]

Charlie: See you tomorrow, Dizzy.

Zay: [ unable to hold back a smile ] See you, Chuckles.

They hold each other’s gaze for a moment longer, easing into the last soft verse of “Tonight.” Then Zay jogs back down the street, disappearing as swiftly as he appeared.

Charlie watches him go, undoubtedly enamored. He’s still smiling as he steps back into his room, shutting the door to the balcony behind him.

INT. MINKUS HOME - FARKLE’S ROOM - NIGHT

Farkle is doing homework in his room, a half-eaten plate of food sitting forgotten on the bed in front of him. Jennifer pokes her head in, lightly knocking and trying to engage him in conversation. She notes that he didn’t eat much, which he brushes off by stating he felt nauseous at school so he’s just taking it easy.

Jennifer comes in to check his forehead and lymph nodes again, wondering when this relentless bug he has is going to let him live. Farkle shrugs away from her, insisting that he’s fine. He’d be better, in fact, if she could let him rest.

She relents, but pauses as a thought hits her on the way out. It’s unclear whether this is a brand new thought, or perhaps one she’s been ruminating on for a while.

Jennifer: You know, when do you think you’ll have Maya over again?

Farkle: I don’t know.

Jennifer: I’ve only been thinking, it might be good to have some of that vibrant theater energy around here again. Don’t you think? Maybe you should extend the invitation.

Farkle, tightly: I’ll do that.

Given how poorly their last interaction went, we know it’s a lie.

INT. AAA - DANCE STUDIO - DAY

Riley shows up to the dance studio early the next morning to rehearse, Zay already there when she arrives. She makes a joke about how she’s surprised he beat her here, but he states that was sort of the point. He also has something for her -- her favorite coffee order, as well as a scone from Svorski’s he’s deemed the “apology scone.”

Riley: Well I’m not going to say no to that. “Apology scone?”

Zay: Suffice to say, I’ve sort of been all over the place this week. There’s just… a lot going on. But a conversation with someone close to me recently made me realize that it’s important to let people know how much you mean to them.

He goes on to state that while she was the one with her head in the clouds last year, now it’s on him. He fully intended to be there for her this week and he dropped the ball, but no longer. And they’re always going to be in each other’s corners, a shoulder to lean on if they need it, which is a far cry from how many of the other dynamics in their class are doing at present.

Then, of course, they’ve still got a duet to perform. Zay takes the coffee and scone and puts it back on the piano tucked into the corner. He spins back to face her and holds out a hand.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “I Like Me Better” as performed by Landon Austin || Performed by Zay Babineaux & Riley Matthews

Riley takes his hand, and Zay leads the vocals on this comfortable, endearing acoustic duet. The two of them pass around the verses as they playfully dance together in the studio, demonstrating the iron strength of their friendship.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

The rehearsing is intercut with their final performance in class, Riley playing the guitar and harmonizing while Zay does most of the singing. It’s a stripped down rendition, no flash or glitz. But their voices blend well together, and it’s a nice change of pace.

As they wrap the number, Zay reaches out and takes her hand while the class gives them a round of applause. Back in the dance studio, Riley laughs and the two of them embrace.

A nice bright spot in the midst of so much uncertainty.

INT. AAA - JACK’S OFFICE - DAY

Harper stops by Jack’s office, finding the principal in the midst of picking through some particularly confusing correspondence. She questions what he’s puzzled over.

Jack: Oh, nothing, nothing… there’s some interested parties attempting to enroll despite our strict enrollment procedures. It’s fine, there’s always a few of these at the start of the school year.

He asks what he can do for her, to which she explains what happened with Lucas and Farkle and how they refused to do the assignment. She’s decided she’ll be punishing them both, as is in within her right as their teacher. Given the behavior she’s observed from both of them, she thinks they could use the discipline.

Jack seems supportive of the authoritarian stance, but he requests that she let him handle Lucas. Whatever she feels Farkle might need she should do within reason, but he’ll take care of their waspish technician. Harper is confused by the distinction, but is more than willing to let him take on the troublemaker so she doesn’t have to.

As Harper heads out, Jack takes another look at the paperwork about enrollment requests. He shakes his head, putting it dismissively to the side.

INT. AAA - GIRLS DRESSING ROOM - DAY

Isadora pokes her head in, relieved to find Maya getting ready and touching up her makeup before their class performance. Maya greets her cheerfully, only some of her confidence falters when she sees Isadora’s change of appearance.

She’s back to looking more like herself, basically back to her usual attire. However, touches of Maya’s influence still remain, such as a simple necklace that Maya had given to her as part of her makeover, her hair up in a pastel scrunchie, and colorful socks on display that have a pretty pattern on them.

Based on that change alone, Maya has a feeling that this conversation isn’t going to go well. She jokes that she’s somehow inevitably strangled another friendship in her own image, but Isadora refutes this.

Isadora: I’m glad you asked me to be partners. And I’m honestly grateful for your friendship, in some ways I kind of feel like it was something I didn’t know I needed. I think I’m going to learn a lot from you.

Maya: Go on, let me down gently. But…?

Isadora: But… I don’t want to completely become someone else to do it. And part of that is on me -- I think I become so focused on what the other person expects that I forget they should be liking me for me. So I sort of let things spiral out of control.

Maya: Doesn’t help when the other person is a diva control freak.

Isadora: [ with a shake of her head ] That’s called passion, and it’s not a bad thing. I’m just… trying to find the balance.

This, Maya can understand. Given how she is reevaluating her own image too now that she’s no longer pretending to be Prada, she gets that feeling more than ever. Isadora does comment that she does like some of Maya’s clothes, and might do a little personalizing of her own style to incorporate the things she likes. She jokingly tugs at Maya’s collar, disrupting the perfect crease.

Isadora: Maybe we can “grunge” you down a bit, too.

Maya: [ intrigued ] Oh, don’t try and stop me.

They exchange a laugh. Isadora admits she isn’t sure what this revelation will mean for their performance, but Maya is already brainstorming. She tells Isadora to focus on her killer vocals, and to leave the rest to her.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “God Is A Woman (Acoustic)” as performed by Ceresia || Performed by Isadora De La Cruz (feat. Maya Hart)

Maya and Isadora follow Riley and Zay’s toned down lead, ditching the hyped up pop performance for something more stripped. Maya plays guitar while Isadora takes the brunt of the vocals, allowing her the chance to show off her already strong pipes while still having the flexibility to find her sound.

It’s also a change of pace that Isadora is front and center while Maya is taking a back seat, a far cry from her triumphant claim to center stage at the beginning of the year. The rendition and the way they harmonize is an indication of growth for the both of them.

Perhaps, they’ll be able to find the balance for both of their personas. All in due time.

INT. AAA - JACK’S OFFICE - DAY

Lucas is back in the chair opposite Jack’s desk, the tone of the meeting a little less casual than it was earlier in the week. Jack finishes reprimanding him for his refusal to participate.

Jack: Look, you’ve made good strides compared to the last couple of years. We haven’t had a complaint from the fire station at all this year.

Lucas: Yeah, well, stuff gets old after a while. [ with a mocking pout ] I’m tired.

Although it’s said like a joke, it feels like there’s some truth to the statement that Lucas won’t analyze for himself. Jack changes tracks, pointing out that for all the progress he’s made, it’s incredibly easy to back slide. And if he keeps disrespecting Miss Burgess or blowing off assignments, it’s going to come back to bite him.

Lucas questions if that’s the extent of his punishment, to which Jack simply laughs. He comes around the desk and leans against the front of it, tilting his head.

Jack: You remember stage-managing the musical last year, right? Intense job, lots of responsibility, you told me you’d rather down a bottle of drain cleaner than ever do it again? [ Off Lucas’s disdainful expression ] Well, do I have news for you, buddy.

Lucas frowns, looking more than displeased. Here we go again.

INT. AAA - SCRIPT LIBRARY - DAY

The door opens to a darkened, dusty closet, Harper grappling to find the light switch. As the cramped space is illuminated she and Farkle are framed in the doorway, showing him what his punishment will be. For the duration of the semester, he will be spending lunches and free periods assisting with technical jobs.

One of these involves cleaning out and organizing the script library, which is a mess of piles and piles of scripts that need to be alphabetized and sorted neatly. Better get to work.

Farkle saunters into the room as Harper leaves him to it, picking up the first play of hundreds. Death of a Salesman. He sighs and places it in a new pile, beginning the tedious job all alone.

INT. AAA - ATRIUM - DAY

Riley is heading out towards the main entrance as the bell rings, other students filing out. A couple of her classmates give her props on her performance or bid her goodbye, but no one stops to actually have a conversation. Riley keeps her smile on, though it’s thin.

She spots Lucas as he’s stepping out of the main office. The two of them lock eyes across the atrium, another weighted moment passing between them. So much left unsaid. So much they could say, if they could just talk about it.

But it doesn’t look like that’s in the cards. Lucas walks out the front doors in a hurry, not even looking back at her for a second glance.

Riley exhales, closing her eyes and trying to push past it. She stuffs her hands in her pockets, surprised as she remembers the note she hastily stuffed in there earlier in the week. She pulls it out and unfolds it, looking at the scribbled declaration of admiration.

“You’re better.”

Tentatively, she twists the note in her fingers. Then she’s crumpling it, making it as small as it can possibly be. Destroying it as quickly as everything else seems to have crumpled into nothing.

She drops it into the waste bin as she exits the building.

INT. AAA - HALLWAY - DAY

Isadora is at her locker, gathering her things. In the inside door, the same photo of her, Riley, and Lucas is hanging up that Riley has in her locker.

She looks at it, obviously reminiscent. She pulls out her phone, opening her thread with Riley and trying to think of something to say. Wondering if there’s anything to say at all. She certainly doesn’t know, like she told her earlier.

The contemplation is interrupted as Maya comes up to her, energized as usual. She shows off the new patches on her denim jacket.

Maya: Check it out. Already beginning the Izzy-fying of my wardrobe. You inspired me.

Yindra and Zay pass by them, asking if they’re all still planning on hitting up Chubbie’s. Maya asks if Isadora is coming, to which she tells them she’ll catch up with them in a second. She hesitates for a moment longer, glancing at that photo one last time.

Then she closes the door. The last image we see is the photo of the three them, sealed away in the closed, dark locker.

END OF EPISODE.

#s2 #episodes #well!#202

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thoughtfulpaperback · 5 years ago

Text

List of my Charmed fic prompts Part 1

I am constantly sharing prompts and ideas between the discord server and here on my blog, but I thought I would try to consolidate the ones from the discord server on here. I might have shared some of these on as a post before. Don't hate, i am just trying to have them all in one place. Most of these are Hacy leaning but some could have lots of other possibilities.

#1 Out of the Mouths of Babes

One of the sisters is able to decode a wisdom spell in the Book of Elders. Instead of making them wiser or revealing anything to them the spell brings younger manifestations of themselves to them which they have to learn from.

From a Hacy standpoint: a young manifestation of Macy wanting to trust Harry possibly sharing some embarrassing long-forgotten factoid about Macy (like maybe at some point she did dream up a “perfect person” for her and Harry matches. Little Macy doesn’t have to have a crush on Harry, but somehow shares that information and everyone else exchanging knowing glances while Harry and Macy are awkward as ever. Maybe even some little Macy and Harry conversation with little Macy where she points out that Harry takes good care of her and asks harry to promise to stay with her (big Macy) (thank you @all-things-hacy in the discord)

If focusing on what the sisters have to learn. You could go personal or sisterhood wise.

Having the little one's bond and escape trying to hide from their “kidnappers” while demons and the power of four try to track them down. Showing them that they do have a sisterhood and as long as they stick together “powers of no powers” “little or not” they can survive.

example convo:

Macy: Maybe we should have stayed. They didn’t seem bad or like they were going to hurt us? We don’t know where we are or how to get back to our homes. Unless we go to the police and ...

Mel: I’ve got this under control! And NO WAY should we have stuck around those people. There is something wrong with that guy!

Macy: I thought he seemed nice enough. . .

Maggie: Yah he got me Juice!

Mel: Just because someone brings you juice doesn’t make them nice Margarita!

If you want to focus on the personal, Little Mel being the leader planning the escape and showing Big Mel that her strength isn’t in her powers but her desire to protect others.

I could see little maggie teaching big maggie that growing up does mean letting go of somethings but holding on to what makes you you. Like I could see everyone making comments about her not having changed much when comparing her to her younger self. I could see maggie maybe even be a little annoyed or cynical with her younger self. Jordan commenting how she and her little “cousin” are so much alike down to the personality.

There is more elaboration on this prompt and different routes it could take in the discord server 11/06/19

#2 Child Troubles

So this actually was a piggyback off of a prompt by Sticks in the discord server. Sticks submitted: Macy and Harry travel to the future and meet a kid that recognizes them as thier parents. cue akwardness.

I added: Wouldn’t it be cool if in the future Macy and Harry’s child was kidnapped. But the culprit has it set up that the child is hidden from them specifically (like the ones who gave the child life cannot find them or something more creative and clever for the writing sort). The power of Three cast a spell that is revealed to them or that they think will work. What it ends up doing is bringing Macy and Harry (present) to the future (because they haven’t actually given life to the kid yet) and they end up saving the child, but never actually meet thier future selves. Like cute akwardness when the child they saved calls them mom and dad and they hear thier future selves call out to the child but they are sucked back into the present before actually seeing. But they both recognized the voices and now have to avoid each others gazed as Mel and Maggie ask what the heck happened.

#3 The Future, Maybe?

I think a fic similar to a Christmas Wish by @evehhr in that there is ambiguity about what exactly the situation is. Both Harry and Macy wake up in a safe house somewhere (they assume it is a safe house) only they aren’t alone. They have a newborn with them and they realize they are supposedly married. They realize that they are in the middle of some sort of conflict and have gone into hiding, but they have no idea what is going on or the extent to which their hiding has to be. So one hand, mystery and trying to piece together the threat, but the potential fluff, comedy, and awkwardness of trying to take care of a newborn.

Convo example:

Baby is crying furiously because of a noise Harry accidentally made.

Macy: *sleep-deprived and part delirious* You did this Har, you fix it!”

Harry: *equally sleep-deprived and delirious* Did what!?!? Fix what!?!

Macy: The Baby!!!

Harry: One would assume that was a joint effort...

Macy: I meant the baby’s crying . . .

Harry: oh....

Potential angst should the enemy located them. Or potential angst at harry worried if he would actually be a good father and being afraid of letting the baby and Macy down or hurting them both (after what he learned in his mind-meld with Abby). Him absolutely believing it couldn’t be the future because no way would Macy have married him. And if she did then it must be because he never told her about what he learned about his past. So he is determined to self-sabotage and tell her about it even though part of him is sad to think he is not ensuring none of this will ever happen, but he does want her to know the truth.

angsty awkwardness and part fluff with Macy telling Harry he is a different person and a good father.

Example convo:

Macy: Harry you are going to be a great father and husband.

sweet looks until they realize the connotation of what she just said

Macy: *panicked backpedaling* I mean if you want to be one again! You are a good dad right now when we are taking care of the baby, and so I mean in the future ... Not this future! not that this is the future. I mean in whatever future with whomever!

#hacy #hacy fanfiction #harry greenwood #macy vaughn #harry x macy #macy x harry

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actuallykiwi · 5 years ago

Text

(From a writing prompt I saw a while ago. Enjoy. :)

The orders shouted to the kitchen. The sizzle of bacon and eggs on the pan. The beep from the waffle maker. Laughter from a couple of friends in the corner booth. The spill of a cup of milk from a child and the subsequent clang of plastic from it hitting the floor. The stain on the back counter from a burning accident from a couple weeks before. The smell of hashbrowns and batter. And the bittersweet taste of a one-sugar-one-creamer coffee.

Vince sighed into his mug as he set it down on the bar. He hated Saturday’s. It seemed like everyone in town wanted to get up early for breakfast and go to Waffle House. He missed the peace and quiet.

“I can’t tell if that look is because the noise is getting to you or if the coffee is too bitter.” Maggie, his usual waitress, grinned and pushed her chopped auburn hair behind her visor as she walked by him.

He chuckled. “Well it’s certainly not the coffee.” He held out his mug for a refill, to which she obliged on cue. She finished scrubbing the plate she was working on, then took his empty plate and replaced it with the bill.

“Take your time, hun.” Maggie gave him her winning smile before scurrying off to refill other coffees. Vince put his creamer and sugar in, then took a nice long swig. He somehow always enjoyed the subtle blistering of the tongue from a fresh pot. It almost numbed his other pains. He didn’t have any assignments today, so he was enjoying his coffee this time.

The slight cry from a waiter as his finger grazed the stove. An old country song fading in on the speakers from the jukebox. A couple arguing in the booth beside the bar about the correct pronunciation of “gif”. The quiet doorbell, going off and on as people entered and exited.

One chime, however, seemed to freeze time for just a moment. Shy footsteps pattered through the door. Worried looks from a few customers that noticed her. Her eyes darted the room, until she saw a large, black leather coat sitting at the bar.

Vince paused his sip as he felt a tug on his coat. He put his mug down and turned to investigate. His skeptical brown eyes met little pale green ones. The girl was maybe only 5 or 6 years old, with platinum blond hair waving around her shoulders and face. Her face flushed when she made eye contact and she stepped back a little. Vince blinked at her.

“Aww, are you lost sweetheart?” Maggie called from over the counter, noticing his new companion. The little girl’s eyes never left Vince as she shook her head. Maggie looked at them both. She seemed ready to ask another question but was stopped by chime of the waffle timer.

The girl looked back in Maggie’s direction to make sure she was gone, then dug into the pocket of her little blue overalls. Her hands came out with a crumpled wad of a few dollar bills, then dug more and found a small handful of change. She held them out to Vince.

Vince furrowed his brows. “What’s this for?” The girl seemed insistent he take it. After a moment, he hesitantly leaned down and gently took it from her hands. She recoiled at his touch, causing them both to jump, then seemed to nervously shake after he had taken it. She seemed scared of something. He kept his eye on her as he subconsciously counted the money. $7.42.

He scratched his ear and leaned towards her again. “Now tell me... What is this for?” Her eyes widened. She looked back and forth nervously, then held up her little finger to tell him to come closer. He obliged. She looked around again, then cupped her hands around his ear and whispered:

“I want you to kill daddy.”

Vince’s eyes widened. He recoiled back to face her. How in the world did she know about him? About his work? A girl her age shouldn’t be on sites like that, let alone hiring someone! In person, by herself, no less! He stared at her.

She now had a slight determined look in her eyes. Her hands tangled nervously together.

It was then he began to notice the bruises.

She had multiple little dark bruises up and down her arms. Her elbows. Legs and knees. Worse, she had bruises all around her neck, hidden by her bright hair. And a red mark on her cheek, still fresh. How had no one noticed? How had he not noticed sooner?

“Did your daddy do this to you?” His voice was low and serious as he pointed at the marks on her body. She nodded.

He looked down at the cash in his hands, still warm from the girl’s tight fingers and pockets. He grasped them in his fists and decided to ask about how she knew him later. “How did you get here?”

“I walked. All morning.” Her voice was quiet and shy, and now her head was bowed to her worn tennis shoes. “And no one saw you?” He asked. She shook her head. “I’m good at hide-and-seek. They would take me back to daddy...”

Vince gave her a worried look. His jaw set. He left the money on the bill for Maggie, then pushed the little girl’s cash back into her hands. “Keep it. Tell me where he lives.” He stood and headed for the door, the little girl hot on his heels.

She stuffed the money back into her pocket. “I’ll show you!” He stood next to his truck and looked down at her. “No, you’re going to the police station. Do you know the address?”

“It’s 911, isn’t it?” She asked. “What? No, the- ugh, your address! Where is your house?” He ran a hand through his hair. “I’ll show you!” She stamped her foot.

Vince ran his hand over his face, then knelt down to her. “You don’t want to be there for this, trust me, sweetheart. You’ll be much safer somewhere else.” She shook her head vigorously. “I hired you, I wanna be there! I’ll wait outside or in your car!” She crossed her arms. Who on earth was this kid?

He sighed deeply, then buried his face in his hands again. A minute passed. The girl watched him unwavering. “Ugh, fine! But you stay in the car, you hear me? And I don’t have a car seat, so keep your head down, understood?”

She nodded and scampered over to the passenger side. Vince shook his head and got in, then opened her door. She clambered in and immediately began snooping around his truck. “No, sit your a-, butt down. There’s stuff in here that you don’t need to be messing with.” She whined and sat back down in her seat. He sighed and left Waffle House with her direction.

*******************

Aside from her occasional directions, she was rather quiet. After her display of stubbornness, her nerves and fear seemed to inch back the closer they got to her house. “How old are you, kid?” Vince awkwardly inquired. “I’m 6. My birthday was 2 months ago in August.” She mumbled.

“And how long has your dad been... hurting you?” He swallowed at the word, his own memories flashing back at him. “1 year. Since mommy left...” She gripped the short legs of her overalls at her knees. Vince nodded his head in understanding. He glimpsed at her softly. “Don’t worry... that ends today.”

She smiled shyly at him. “Your name is Vincent Vurner, right? Can I call you Mr. Vincent?”

“Var-ner. I go by Vince. What’s your name?”

“I’m Nolan Chelsea. I think daddy wanted a boy and that’s why they named me Nolan. Go left here and it’s on yourrrrr... right.”

Vince pulled into a small trailer park. For the most part, it was well kept. Lawns were mowed, houses were well taken care of. Mostly. Nolan lifted a shaky finger up to the one that was farthest towards the trees, shaded by a lot of them. He pulled up a little distance from it and parked. “Is he home?”

“I don’t see his car. He usually goes out with his friends Saturday and drinks a lot. He gets home late.”

“So he leaves you by yourself?”

“Sometimes my neighbor Nina comes and watches me, but she has to watch her husband too, and she’s out of town this weekend, I think.” She pointed to an older trailer next door.

Vince sighed. “I don’t want to leave you by yourself, but... it would be better to do this at night. I’ll come back in a bit when he’s home, alright?”

Nolan nodded. “Okay.” She moved to open her door. “Wait.” He called. She looked back at him. “How did you know about me?”

“Daddy’s laptop. He was drunk and left it open on this weird site called Anonymous, I think. You were on the front page as a ‘hitman/assassin’, which is a killer, right?”

“How the hell... What was your dad doing on there???” She shrugged and jumped out of the car. “Wait, Nolan- ahh!” He rubbed his forehead, frustrated. “Never mind.”

********************

Night fell. Crickets and frogs chirped in the thicket. An owl sang its haunting melody in the shadows. The moon shined its half-face on the ground below. A cricket jumped across the window-shield of the black truck resting in the corner of the Dollar General parking lot.

The time was 10:37 pm. Vince started his truck and left for the trailer.

There were now a few more cars in the park. At the furthest one in the trees sat an old beige pickup truck, parked very crooked in the driveway. The parking lights were still on. Vince parked in the same spot he did earlier. He donned his gloves and holstered his gun and knife, and after a routine check, he approached the truck.

He could smell the whiskey back from his own truck. The owner must have been very drunk.

“You’re here!” Nolan jumped out from behind the house, scaring Vince. “Jesus, kid! What are you doing out here?”

“Daddy’s home. When I heard the truck, I snuck out back and waited for you. I think he’s too drunk to notice I’m not here.” Vince sighed again. “Just... wait out here. And one more thing, kid...” He knelt down to her. “You are not to tell anyone about this, alright? And you are not to enter this house until the police arrive, understood?”

Nolan nodded. “I know. I hired you, why would I tell on you?” It was a sarcastic question, but the terrified and nervous look on her face told him all he needed to know. He gave her his best reassuring smile and patted her head.

Once he was sure she was safely outside, he carefully opened the door.

Countless beer bottles and cans. The dripping of the sink. Gatorade bottles and pop tart wrappers littered the trash bag and floor. The couch wore several holes and vomit stains. The TV played an old rerun of Family Feud. A loud belch and the zipping of pants came from the hallway. Then a flush.

“’S that you, Nolan? Shoulda been home when I got here, you little brat, you know I worry.” From the hallway stumbled a tall, lanky, wiry haired man that smelled like the dumpster of a sports bar. He was chugging a beer can and rubbing the only fat on him: his beer belly.

“You and I must have very different definitions of ‘worry’.” Vince said casually.

The man finished his beer and tossed it over his shoulder, jumping at the sight of Vince. “Now who in the sam hell’re you?”

“Let’s skip introductions.” In a blink, Vince was in front of the man. He only had a few seconds to call out a string of curses before Vince’s hands were on his head and chin. The man’s bloodshot green eyes widened, and a loud snap echoed across the house.

Then the thud of a body to the floor.

******************

Nolan was sitting on the hood of her dad’s truck. She lifted her head when she heard Vince walk out the back door. She ran to him as he rounded the corner. “Is it over? Is daddy... dead?” Vince nodded solemnly.

Wordlessly, Nolan wrapped her arms around his legs in a silent ‘thank you’. Vince staggered back, but gently patted her head.

He let her linger for a moment, then pushed her back and crouched in front of her. “Tell your neighbors that your daddy is unresponsive. Do you have family you can call?”

Nolan shook her head. “Mommy’s family stopped talking to us and daddy isn’t close to his. It’s just me.”

Vince thought quietly for a moment. “... You weren’t scared of me, were you? Or the work that I do?” She shook her head. “No, I think it’s cool! You go around killing bad guys like a superhero!”

He couldn’t help but chuckle. “Something like that... tell you what. Do what I asked you to do with your neighbors, and I’ll get a friend of mine to help me out with some paperwork, and you might be able to stay with me. How’s that?”

Nolan gasped and smiled! “Yes! You’re gonna raise me to be a superhero!”

He laughed nervously. “Uh, sure... Just... I’ll see you soon, okay, kid?”

He smiled at her as he walked back to his car. She smiled too.

“See you soon.”

#writing #short story #writing prompt

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everyonewillsee · 6 years ago

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for the DVD Commentary: "Lovett is going on again and Jon says without thinking, “well I’m not the one who almost told thousands of listeners that I slept with Jim Acosta, so I really can’t say.”......They stay on the floor in an emotional heap for much longer than is appropriate in an office space." From All My Days, I'll Know Your Face (it's one of my favorite fics // I love it so much // I have read it approximately 164 times)

(ahhhh omg you’re too sweet

I love this scene a lot. I actually claimed (you know, like a liar) “I’m leaving this alone for now” after getting them back together in the prior scene and then [later that day] this scene came to me, almost fully formed and pushed me to get to the end.

Lovett is going on again and Jon says without thinking, “well I’m not the one who almost told thousands of listeners that I slept with Jim Acosta, so I really can’t say.”

When I originally chatficced/yelled this fic at Maggie and Katy, I used “spoiled game of thrones for thousands of people” for the vibe I was going for. When I went back and edited I couldn’t think of a similar thing they’d have cut. GOT didn’t work cause the premise was that it had to have been cut ‘cause Jon listened to all the pods. Cue me asking for help and:

Katy: ( @siobhanroy )lovett: complaining about the presstommy: but you slept with jim acosta

Maddie:would you really like me to make favs’ first real memory negging lovett for having a one night stand with jim acosta?

Katy:we wanted it to be funnyand that would be very very funny

Maddie:lmaookay

Thus, this is Jon’s first memory forever.

Tommy’s laughing, but Lovett is staring at him “I never told you about… Tommy are you slandering me behind my back again?”

“Always, Lovett,” Tommy says casually. Then he thinks about it and abruptly stops giggling. “Wait. Not about that.” Lovett and Tommy are both staring at Jon now.

Lovett turns out towards the rest of the office accusingly. “Tanya…” he growls.

The unspoken thing here is that Tommy and Lovett have gotten so used to Jon’s memory problems that Lovett immediately notices something is wrong. Jon’s caught up on so much from asking them questions and listening to pods, it’s really important to me that they’re still that in tune with him and what he knows and what he doesn’t.

Tanya is throwing her hands up in denial, but Jon has a really weird look on his face. Tommy is next to him immediately, going to his knees by Jon’s desk. “What’s wrong? Jon, are you okay?”

“Yeah I’m fine I just…” Jon’s scrunching his face up. “I remember it?”

It’s Lovett who doesn’t believe him. Tommy totally freezes. Lovett jumps off of Tanya’s desk and starts pacing. “No that… We must have left it in and just thought we cut it, or someone mentioned it in passing or… or…”

A lot of what’s going on in their heads is explained in the next scene, but Lovett’s pain here is so visceral for me. He can’t believe it, he can’t let himself hope and he doesn’t realize what’s behind his disbelief at first he just knows this can’t possibly be real. So he pushes and pushes and pushes until Jon breaks and only then realizes what he’s done.

Jon’s frantically trying to make his brain cooperate. It’s been weeks since he’s pushed at it so hard and maybe that was the secret because he can remember it as clear as anything. “No. Lovett. We were in the studio, recording a Tommy John ad. You were wearing your stupid ‘electric in any medium’ hat. Tommy fell out of his chair laughing and then you tipped over your Diet Coke and broke the glass.”

“You bought me that hat, asshole,” Lovett snaps. “This really isn’t a funny joke Jon.”

“I’m not fucking joking! Why would I…” Jon’s head hurts. His face is screwed up in pain from the headache and from Lovett being so…

“I don’t know why you would joke about it but it’s fucking cruel.” Lovett is looming over him, insofar as Lovett can loom. Jon’s got his head in his hands.

Jon trying to process and getting yelled at and it’s such a stupid fucking little thing to cause all of this. He didn’t even realize that it was a real memory until Lovett pointed it out, so he’s spiraling (how did it come back? Is he going to get more memories? What happens if he does? What happens if he doesn’t? Why is THIS what he remembers?) and Lovett is not making it any easier.

“I’m not…” Jon makes a choked noise and that finally snaps Tommy out of whatever trance he’s gone into. As he leans up to reach for Jon, he puts a hand on Lovett’s stomach to gently push him out of Jon’s space. Lovett goes, leaning back against the wall to glower at them.

“Hey, hey, Jon it’s okay. It’s okay.” Jon lets his hands drop to look at Tommy and Tommy’s heart breaks at how vulnerable and scared he looks.“If you say you remember it, then you remember it.” Tommy says gently, stroking his hands up and down Jon’s trembling arms. “I believe you okay? It’s okay.”

“I can’t… I can’t remember anything else. Just the one…”

“The doctor said it could happen like this, remember?” Tommy says slow and careful, pushing back his own freakout to focus on Jon. Jon’s gulping in air as tears start rolling down his face. “She said you might start getting memories back bit by bit or just a few here and there. We’ll call and make an appointment for tomorrow, okay?”

Jon nods and collapses forwards into Tommy’s waiting arms with a sob. Lovett is still watching warily from the wall while Tommy rubs Jon’s back and makes nonsense comfort noises. Jon can’t stop crying. He wants to remember more than he’s ever wanted anything, especially with the tease of a memory slotting back into its proper place.

And then there’s Tommy. So afraid of every possible explanation and outcome that he’s paralyzed with it. Until Jon needs him and then he’s all in. “Pushing aside his own freakout to focus on Jon” is kind of the thesis of Tommy in this whole fic and it’s wonderful and awful. Those times when Tommy loses it he really fucking loses it, because he’s repressing so much feeling all the time. If I were to rewrite this fic, I’d make it a strict Tommy POV and linger on this stuff a lot more. He’s so in love and so afraid of losing Jon and he goes on such a fucking journey.

He’s finally starting to get under control when Lovett says in a really small voice “Sorry.” That makes Jon cry harder. Tommy takes his hand off Jon’s back for a second to reach behind him and tug Lovett’s shirt. Lovett obligingly follows the pull until he’s on the ground next to them. “I’m sorry okay? Please don’t… I’m sorry I’m such a dick”

Jon lifts his head from Tommy’s chest to lean it against Lovett’s shoulder. “No you’re… it’s…” He can’t find the words so he turns his face into Lovett’s neck. Lovett’s hand hesitatingly comes up to stroke his back, Tommy’s arms still around them both. They stay on the floor in an emotional heap for much longer than is appropriate in an office space.

Cuddles! I realize sometimes that the most out of character thing I write is all the cuddles, because y’know, masculinity. But sometimes you just need a good office cry and cuddle with your cofounders/partners/best friends.

One of the things I tried to weave through this fic, and think I could have done a much better job with, looking back, is the way Jon’s accident and amnesia rippled through the whole of Crooked. Their staff are so there for him, while being lost and confused themselves, and, of course, are reasonably unfazed by crying, cuddling bosses. I like to think Tanya probably organized some office-sans emotionally compromised founders nights out during this ordeal, cause she, and all of them, deserve all the support in the world too.

Bonus cut from the original outline of this scene:

so tommy finally gets his jons calmed down and gets everyone off the floor(no one gets any work done the rest of the day)(maybe, hopefully, yes definitely, tanya pulls tommy aside into the kitchen after everyone has calmed down and is pretending to be working and gives him a hug of his own)(i worry about tommy)

#<3 #ask me anything #dvd commentary meme #self-rescuing-princess #vietreau #apparently i'm writing fic again?

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sapphicscholar · 6 years ago

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A/N: Today's chapter is a little shorter, but it made sense to keep it as one coherent scene instead of mixing it in with the next one, which is much longer and will be up on Sunday morning! As always, your comments never fail to make me smile even when it's been a shitty day at work, so thank you for that :)

Chapter Text:

After a long Wednesday spent in meetings with J’onn after his talks with the head of the NCPD Science Division, Alex was grateful to have the opportunity to lock herself away in her lab for most of the day on Thursday, taking a break only to spar with a few of the younger recruits who’d gotten a bit too cocky in the field and needed to be reminded of how little they still knew.

She’d gotten a few teasing remarks and questions when she brought down real soap and conditioner and a hair dryer into the locker rooms to shower afterward, but a stern glare was enough to send them scampering back to their stations. It certainly wasn’t that she was trying to impress Maggie, but she also didn’t want to show up drenched in sweat or smelling funny.

After setting up a few tests to run overnight in the lab, Alex pulled on her coat and headed down to the garage to make it to the bar on time.

She swept through the city streets, weaving in and out of the traffic congestion around the most popular bars and restaurants into a slightly smaller but equally loud neighborhood. Drink specials flashed at her from colorful signs and music wafted into the streets from rooftop bars and open windows.

Counting down the numbered blocks until she got to 32nd Street, Alex pulled into the closest parking spot she could find, walking the last few feet to the bar. Not seeing Maggie yet, Alex strolled inside, taking in the surroundings. It was a more eclectic crowd than she was used to these days, but it seemed like a fun enough place. There were a few pool tables on one side of the room and sign up sheets for the 8-ball doubles competition set up at one of the booths.

“Can I interest you in tonight’s tournament?” a small woman with short-cropped hair asked Alex. She held up one of the sheets and a pen.

“Oh, uh, yeah. That’s actually what I’m here for.”

“Wonderful!” She handed over the sheet to Alex, shifting her weight to one foot and smiling up at her. “Now did you already come with a partner, or are you looking?”

Alex’s brow furrowed at the question that seemed to carry more weight than it should have. “Um, I’ve got a friend coming.” She got a smile in return at that.

“Well then, I’ll let you get that information down. But I’ll have to come watch you play.”

With a noncommittal noise in response, Alex focused on getting her name down with Maggie’s. So far there were only six other teams signed up, and Alex looked around her, trying to scout out the competition.

“Danvers!”

Alex spun at the sound of Maggie’s voice, waving eagerly before shoving her hand into her pocket. “Hey. Just signed us up.”

“Oh awesome. So glad you could make it.”

“Yeah—yeah, of course.”

Maggie shrugged. “Wasn’t sure if this was your scene, or…”

For the second time that night, Alex found her mind reeling as she tried to figure out what it was she was being asked without really being asked. She managed a half-smile that seemed to defer Maggie’s attention at the very least. “Drinks? My turn—you bought last time.”

“Uh, beer would be great. Don’t want to lose my focus for the big game.”

Alex chuckled as Maggie mimed shooting a cue. “Hope your form’s better than that when we play.”

For a moment, Maggie froze, finally letting out a self-deprecating laugh. “Didn’t know my form was that bad. Maybe you’ll have to show me how it’s done…”

Alex’s thoughts drifted back to the motorcycle ride. She wondered if Maggie would feel the same pulse of heat with Alex’s arms wrapped around her as Alex had on the bike. Blinking the image away, Alex forced herself to breathe in deeply and look back at Maggie, who was smirking up at her. “Right, um, drinks first. Yeah.”

“Wouldn’t want you to get thirsty, Danvers,” Maggie murmured at Alex’s retreating form.

By the time she got back with two beers, Alex felt in control of her thoughts once more and ready to beat the competition. She hopped up onto the barstool at a high-top opposite Maggie, motioning with her beer to a pair of two guys in the corner. “I think they’re gonna be our real competition.”

“That so?”

Alex nodded, a serious look in her eyes. “I bet the two big ones don’t even play. They’re just wearing leather to seem like they do.”

With a snort of barely contained laughter, Maggie choked on her beer, wincing as it burned at the back of her throat. “I think the leather’s more about the whole bear aesthetic, Danvers.”

“What?”

“I…um, nevermind.” Maggie shook her head, grabbing a napkin to wipe up the drops of beer that had spilled onto the table. “Tell me more about the competition.”

Before Alex could answer, the woman who’d approached Alex earlier was tapping a cheap pool cue on the floor, drawing everyone’s attention over to her. “Thanks to everyone for coming out and signing up! As a reminder, tonight the bar is donating all proceeds to the Center, so drink up and be happy knowing it’s going to a good cause! And if you remembered your donations, we’ve got boxes out for the food and clothing drive the Coalition to End LGBTQ Youth Homelessness is running.”

Alex felt a flash of guilt when Maggie grabbed the bag she’d come in with and dropped it off in the bins. Not that Alex had known there was a drive, but still.

A moment later, the sound of the woman’s voice drew her attention back up to the pool tables.

“We’ve now got our mini tournament bracket pinned up on the board here, so if you’re on a team, make sure you come up and find out who you’re playing first and when!”

“Ready?” Maggie flashed a dimpled smile in Alex’s direction, and Alex couldn’t help but grin back at her.

“To win? Always.”

With a low chuckle, Maggie led the way over to the board. “Well, looks like we’ll be playing those guys you thought wouldn’t be any sort of problem.”

“We got this.”

Maggie’s gaze dropped to the cocky smirk curling up the corner of Alex’s mouth, and it took the voice of one of their competitors introducing himself to draw her attention up again.

“I’m Pat.” He reached a beefy hand out, and Maggie had to tilt her head back to smile at him.

“Andy.” The other man waved at them.

“I’m Maggie, and this is Alex.”

Alex nodded at them.

“Ah, silent partner? Or is this more of a good cop, bad cop kinda deal?” Andy teased.

Maggie chuckled. “First time playing as partners, so we’ll find out.”

“Always a good preview of what’s to come.” Pat winked at Maggie, who ducked her head and ignored the unspoken question in Alex’s eyes.

“Alright!” Maggie’s voice was a little louder than she’d intended it to be, and she cleared her throat before trying again. “Uh, who wants to break?”

“Ladies first.”

“Figures,” Alex muttered under her breath, stopping only when Maggie elbowed her in the ribs with a quiet, “Be nice.”

Alex broke and shot Maggie a confused look when Andy and Pat cheered her on as well.

“It’s a friendly competition, Danvers.”

Alex forced her lips up into a smile; she might not believe in a non-competitive competition, but she supposed she could make an effort at friendly.

Maggie stepped up to take her turn next, sinking the green solid, leaving them with three balls already pocketed.

Alex easily potted another, and Maggie had to pull her back before she fouled by shooting a second time in a row—not that she really thought Andy and Pat would give them a hard time about it. Alex’s spine stiffened and her whole body froze at the warm weight of Maggie’s hand on her lower back. Breathe, just breathe, was repeated like a silent mantra as she forced herself to stand up and not comment on how the temperature of the room seemed to have risen ten degrees.

Maggie missed her second shot, leaving Pat with an easy angle to sink a striped ball. Andy and Maggie both clapped for him.

“How have you been playing for years with form that bad?” Alex whispered.

Maggie folded her arms over her chest, let out an annoyed huff, and glared at Alex. “I didn’t say I got professional lessons.”

“I’ll show you, alright?”

Alex looked up in time to see Pat sinking his second shot, tying up the game. She forced herself not to smile when Andy missed, and as she grabbed her cue, she reminded Maggie to watch her form.

“Or maybe you just show me when it’s my turn…”

With a shuddering breath, Alex nodded, then sank her shot. “Are you, um, did you…”

“Here.” Maggie grabbed her cue and stepped in front of Alex, motioning to the yellow ball she thought would be her best shot.

“No, this one.” Alex’s hand hovered over Maggie’s hip as she tried to guide her line of vision down to a different shot—further away, but a much easier angle.

“I don’t want to scratch if the cue ball goes in too, though,” Maggie whispered.

“It won’t—not with good form.”

“You know,” Andy drawled, “I think technically the partners bit is supposed to be away from the table, and you play one at a time.”

Alex spun around to yell at him, freezing at the sight of his teasing smile and the weight of Maggie’s hand on her arm, guiding Alex back to her.

“Oh don’t worry.” Pat waved his hand and chuckled, low and gruff. “We’re not gonna interrupt your foreplay.”

Alex could only hope Maggie didn’t hear the undignified squeak she let out, though she thought it was probably a long shot to think Maggie couldn’t feel the way her hands trembled slightly.

“I just, um”—Alex swallowed heavily, her mouth suddenly dry—“we’ll, uh, we line it up. Then when you shoot, you’re gonna pull your arm back.” Alex’s heart hammered in her chest as Maggie’s finger curled around to hold her there for the actual shot. With a silent reminder that she regularly went toe-to-toe with aliens that could snap her like a twig, Alex focused her attention on the pool table, guiding Maggie as she sent the cue ball rolling down the table. She nearly jumped back the second they were done, moving several feet away to watch as it neatly knocked the purple ball into the back pocket without following it in.

Maggie spun around and beamed at Alex with one of those contagious smiles Alex couldn’t help but return in kind.

“Your turn.”

“Right.” Alex managed a tricky shot, only to realize she’d left Maggie with no good options. “Just, uh, just try not to scratch.”

The rest of the competition passed in a daze, and Alex found she didn’t remember the games they won so much as she remembered the random comments Maggie made, her voice barely a whisper and her breath hot against Alex’s ear. She remembered the way Maggie looked bending over the table and the warmth of Maggie’s smile each time she congratulated Alex on a good shot. Most of all, though, she remembered Lucy’s words—those few sentences that had stuck with her for so long, haunting her dreams and nagging at her whenever she let her thoughts stray too far.

It was in the midst of yet another mental replay of Lucy’s suggestion that she was looking for the wrong people that a tiny blonde woman commented on what a cute couple she and Maggie made. “What?” Alex’s voice cracked on the word, and she could feel her cheeks flushing. “I—no—I’m not—”

Maggie stepped in then, her mouth turned up into an easy smile that didn’t quite meet her eyes. “Alex is a”—she glanced over at Alex, who suspected she looked a mess—“friend.”

“Oh.” The woman’s eyes flicked up and down Maggie’s body. “And you? You just visiting too?”

“No.” Maggie shook her head and laughed at a joke Alex knew she must have missed. “Definitely not.”

“Jenna.”

“Maggie.”

“You’re in the final, right?”

Maggie nodded, her gaze darting over to the table where the other semi-final game was wrapping up to determine who she and Alex would play.

“Well, in case you need an incentive to win, what if I promise that I’ll have a drink waiting for you if you do.”

Alex turned away, not needing to hear Maggie’s reply; the flirty smile was answer enough.

During the final, Alex sank her shots as fast as she could, barely caring when she knocked the 8-ball into the pocket, winning them the game and the tournament. She smiled and nodded, not hearing Maggie’s congratulations. She ducked out the moment Jenna came to find Maggie and shrugged off the drink offers, opting to wait until she got home to drink enough whiskey to fall asleep without the night’s memories replaying on a loop.

#sanvers #slow burn #next door neighbor au #alex danvers #maggie sawyer #fanfic #supergirl #ao3feed #coming out arc

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queercapwriting · 7 years ago

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Let’s have some sanvers/supercorp and maybe a bit of reign in there with ruby gone family camping/camping. Some fluffy stuff to lighten things up!! Hope ur having a good day! Also I’ve tell anyone that listens I’ve gotten a kitten! He’s black and his names is Sirius Salem Black!

Alex snorts when Kara bounces on the balls of her feet and excitedly explains her weekend plans: to take Ruby camping with Sam.

And with Lena.

“A Luthor’s going to camp? In a posh cabin or in like… a tent?”

Kara scowls, and Alex holds up her hands defensively.

“Put your heat vision away, sis, I’m just teasing. But seriously – you’re all going camping together? And you didn’t think to invite Maggie and me?”

“We wanted to spend some time with Ruby!” Kara shrugs defensively. “Without all the…” She shifts her eyes around the apartment and lowers her voice as her face reddens. “… sex noises coming from a nearby tent!”

Alex full-on scoffs at that.

“Like there won’t be any sex noises with you, Lena, and Sam in a tent together.”

Kara blushes even redder and adjusts her glasses.

“Don’t worry about it, Danvers,” Maggie calls up from the couch, glasses on, Alex’s college sweats on, buried in paperwork with a smirk on her face. “I think I can think of some ways to entertain us this weekend.”

“Is that so?” Alex flirts as she saunters toward their couch.

“Andddd that’s my cue to leave,” Kara laughs.

The laughter continues throughout the weekend.

At first, the laughter is from Sam’s tripping over herself when Kara picks them all up in J’onn’s convertible, flannel and denim from head toe to, because “dammit, Kara, I thought I’d be the gayest one on this trip!”

“Uh, Mom, have you seen Lena?” Ruby quips back with a smirk, and they all – daughter and girlfriends – turn to look at Lena’s popped collar underneath Kara’s National City University sweater.

“Okay, yes, Lena wins all the lesbian awards,” Kara pulls her in by the hips and kisses one of her girlfriends as Ruby laughs and Sam rolls her eyes affectionately, swinging Ruby’s duffel effortlessly into the trunk.

“Please tell me you have something in here other than J’onn’s 90s pop throwbacks,” Sam calls into the back seat as Ruby starts fiddling with the radio controls.

“No promises,” Kara beams as Lena scoots forward to kiss Sam’s shoulder as she’s pulling out onto the street.

Sure enough, when “Bye Bye Bye” starts blasting out of the spaceship-turned-convertible’s speakers, Ruby cackles with delight.

“It’s so appropriate for you and Kara, Mom!”

Lena pouts at Ruby when she turns in her seat to face her.

“And no, Lena, I didn’t leave you out because you’re a Luthor. Just because you’re just straight up gay!”

“No pun intended,” Sam chuckles as she reaches out an arm to remind Ruby to sit facing front while they’re in the car.

It turns out that the car ride is almost as fun as Lena had expected the entire trip to be.

Passing of snacks, giggling when they see deer grazing on the side of the road, all three grown women irritating Ruby with their impassioned renditions of every single Britney single ever released.

And it turns out that the fun was only beginning.

Because Kara could do many things. She could save the entire city multiple times in a single day and not even break a sweat. She could make the world move with her journalism, and she could make even the most unloved of women feel absolutely, thoroughly, adored.

And Lena could do many things. She could hold onto kindness even when the world only tried to make her cruel. She could save the world over, and over, and over again, receiving no thanks, and still do it again, and again, and again.

But neither of them can pitch a damn tent.

And Ruby finds this endlessly entertaining.

She won’t stop snapping with the Polaroid James had gotten her for her birthday, taking closeups of Lena’s confusion and Kara’s frustration, of her mother’s relaxed, reclined posture, silently watching her genius girlfriends try to arrange a tent with the most casual of smirks on her face.

“You two need some – “

“No!”

“Absolutely not!”

“I think they might, Mom.”

“I think they might too, baby.”

“It’s just a tent! We had more complicated toys as children on Krypton – “

“And yet – “

“No one asked you, Sam!”

She does ask her, though, when she and Lena topple over, futilely trying to get out from under the tent’s canvas.

“Need a hand, loves?” Sam winks heavily at a giggling Ruby.

“Yeah yeah,” Kara mutters from underneath the collapsed tent, and Sam has it up in no time.

Ruby takes out a small notebook from her back pocket and puts another slash in her mom’s “gay points” tally.

But it’s at night when the laughter recedes into quiet snuggles; when the teasing and the raucous adventuring settles into thoughtful embraces, eyes up at the stars that Kara and Sam can still touch, but only just.

“Look!” Ruby points, her head on her mom’s chest, right next to Lena’s.

All of their eyes trace the path of one meteor, then two, soaring across the sky, just a blip, like a firefly, like a trace of hope, glimmering before it vanishes.

Kara’s fingers intertwine deeper with Sam’s, and Lena looks up to kiss Sam’s lips quietly.

“Glad we came?” Kara asks them all, and the contented sighs – the sighs of safety and warmth and sheer happiness – all mean the same, overwhelming, yes.

#supercorp #supercorp minific #superreigncorp #supereigncorp minific #supereigncorp

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smallgirlbigpersonality · 7 years ago

Text

Take it Easy | Chapter 1

Source: supremeleaderkylorens

1/15 (Chapter Two)

Pairing: Clyde Logan x Reader

Word Count: 2,000+

Disclaimer: All copyrighted characters are property of Bleeker Street, Fingerprint Releasing, & Steven Soderbergh.

Warning: Rated PG-13 (Eventual NC-17)

“Well… I don’t know Clyde, have you ever thought about just droppin’ it?” Mellie suggested as she rolled another curler into the Purple Lady’s hair. She’d been more than happy to give her brother a ride to town today but man~ she hadn’t been prepared for the 20-minute car ride to morph into a three hour lecture. The Logan’s had rotten luck and it wasn’t exactly a secret. Her older brother just seemed to need a reason to explain their ever shrinking family tree family tree.

“You know poor old Maggie Logan, bless her soul, won the lottery and then the next day she just drop~”

“Now Beatrice, you know I love ya but he don’t need any encouragement,” Mellie scolded, casting her brother a weary glance.

The batty old hens at the salon loved nothing more than gossip. They caught wind of every good, bad, lucky, scandalous, and downright unfortunate event that ever happened in their small Podunk county. Clyde hung on their every word too; no doubt taking notes so he could bring his findings to Jimmy their older brother when he finally wandered into town.

In fact, by the time Clyde left for his shift that night, he had managed to add three more unlucky Logan’s to his list. He manned the bar straight faced and more determined than ever. If he kept his game face on, tonight might be the night he convinced Jimmy that whatever this “thing” was… It was real!

Although, when Jimmy Logan did finally make an appearance he wasn’t exactly in a talking mood. He marched up to the bar looking madder than a wet hen. His brother could practically see the steam rolling off his shoulders. Clyde knew Jim well enough to know he needed a drink or two before words of any kind could be exchanged.

He made his way across the bar to where the taps were and poured a homegrown West Virginian Porter. That and their old friend Jose Cuervo should’ve been enough to get the evening headed in a better direction. He poured two shots and pushed one towards his brother. The other Clyde picked up the other, idly sloshing it around while he waited to see Jimmy’s next move.

“I don’t wanna talk until both of these are gone,” Jimmy muttered before grabbing his shot and downing the honey colored liquid. The younger Logan hadn’t even finished his shot before his brother was done with the beer.

“Well, what happened?” Clyde asked, brushing some of the long black hair away from his face.

“I got fired today.” Oh.

“It might’ve had something to do with this darned curse. I was at the salon with Mellie this mornin’ and we hear about old Aunt Maggie. Beatrice said she won the lott~”

“Don’t you start with that Logan curse stuff again,” Jimmy snapped, cutting him off. “It’s all folktales anyway!”

Clyde frowned. To him this was very real and very simple.

“Then how do you explain you gettin’ fired? Blowing out your knee before the championship game? Or me losing my hand on the way to the dang airport?”

Jimmy grunted, dragging his hands over his face. “Look, I don’t want to deal with this tonight. Bobbie Jo is moving Sadie out of state too.”

“I like to think we ain’t that bad of people and for good people we sure do see a lot of bad karma,” he argued.

“Oh, so it’s karma now? Alright fine, you win! When I get back from my satellite office we’re going to talk about this!” Jim muttered, hobbling off towards the bathroom.

Cylde seized the opportunity to checkout the bar. He craned his neck to take a quick look around the place. Same old dusy pool tables, empty booths against the back wall, neon beer signs on the right, and a jukebox resting next to the karaoke system on the far wall. Everything was in its place.

As for the clientele… It was a slow Friday night. He had a few locals hanging around the pool tables; they just ordered a fresh round of beers so he didn’t have to worry about them. You and your friend; however, managed to sneak in during his debate with Jimmy. Lord knows you two had to be some of the prettiest thing this side of the Mason-Dixon line so he wasn’t sure how you’d snuck by. Your friend with the long blonde hair and baby blue eyes seemed like the city type. Those were usually just passing by on their way to Charlotte. You almost looked at home though…

You had long (y/c/h) hair with a bit of a curl to it and some of the prettiest eyes Clyde’d ever seen. The dark purple flannel, black tank top and jeans weren’t that out of the norm- what gave you away as an out-of-towner were the boots. Nobody that lived in these parts would wear shoes quite that nice; even if they had money. He imagined you were a nice girl with a sweet laugh, and just enough sass to keep things interesting. Reading people was one of the few skills he prided himself in. That and being able to guess what kind of drinks people liked. More often than not, he wasn’t that far off the money.

When your friend leaned in to whisper something in your ear, he confirmed his suspicions about your laugh. Gosh, you had the cutest smile too. It wasn’t until you’d hopped off your bar stool and started making your way towards him that Clyde realized he’d been staring.

Oh boy, did that blush rise in his cheeks.

“I would’ve remembered if you’d ever been to the bar before. Are you and your friend just passing through?” he asked, trying to maintain some dignity. That little smirk you gave him though, sure wasn’t helping with his blush.

“Oh, my friend’s in town with her… Well I guess you would call him boyfriend,” you wondered out loud, “Anyway, he owns one of the race teams and they’re prepping for the big race. I’m just along for the ride.”

“What team does he ow~” for the second time tonight the bartend found himself getting cut off. His attention snapped to a new group of gentlemen who’d stumbled in the front door. Tonight’s new guest count jumped from two to five. These men gave him a bad feeling though; that uneasiness crept up through his bones like no other. These men weren’t good people…

“Oi! Hey (y/nickname), did you order us a round yet? Where’s Alyssa? God, I miss that tight little ass of hers,” Clyde’s eyes widened at the comment; so not a gentleman.

“Not yet. I was just about to though,” you murmured, turning back to face the bartender. “...Look, I’m sorry in advance…”

He rolled his shoulders and tried to brace himself for the massive ego that was about to hit him head on.

“You’re a bit slow for being the smart friend aren’t ya (y/n)? Anyways ol’ bloke just open a tab on this card. Anything these ladies want can go on this,” the man offered as he slid a black piece of plastic across the counter.

“Right, well what will you have then?” Clyde asked, resting his prosthetic limb against the counter.

“I’ll have three stoli martinis dry, all with two olives… Oh, oh this is going to be good. Are you sure you can manage all that?” Looks like the bar’s latest guest finally noticed his missing appendage.

“I think I can manage. What can I get for the ladies?” he asked briefly turning his attention back to you.

“If you’ve got ginger beer, two jacks and gingers would be amazing. Then two of your strongest shots would be greatly appreciated, please!” When Clyde nodded you gave him a silent thanks and watched as he got to work on your drinks first. Although, it didn’t matter much. Alyssa found herself occupied with her boyfriend’s two cronies.

“Hey! Do you mind if I film a post?” the obnoxious man asked as he whipped out his phone, “It’s not often that ya get to see a one armed bartender.”

Living in such a small town Clyde was used to people poking fun at his arm. More than half the time though, it was done out of ignorance as opposed to ill intention. Very few people had the guts to mess with Jimmy Logan’s brother. Even if he wasn’t a Logan… He was a war hero of sorts. Between the Logan thing and the veteran thing most people backed off leaving him to his quiet self. For those who didn’t, he did his best to educate them on transradial amputations…

Blocking them out came with years of therapy and he still wasn’t that good at it. He couldn’t blame people for not being comfortable around him because he still didn’t feel at home in his own skin.

Clyde started to liken your friend’s date to a shorter, fatter, talentless version of Graham Norton. He kept going on about something called Instagram and how he could make the man famous. Out of all the things Clyde Logan was an idiot sure wasn’t one of them. He knew the man was trying to get a laugh… Now the bartender was trying to figure out if it was worth causing a ruckus over.

Almost as if he was on cue, Jimmy stepped in to defend him though. His brother didn’t have the chance to open his mouth before words and fists started flying. Jim had been itching for an excuse to get in a fight tonight and this man just served himself up on a silver platter.

Clyde hear two distinct noises; one sounded like a body hitting the floor and the other sounded like one hitting the bar. He didn’t need to turn around to tell you his brother had been the one to bite the dust. Jim wasn’t the type of man that thought things through. He’d dive head first into a one on three fight and hope for the best. As his brother, it was always up to Clyde to help even out the odds. Turning on his heels he darted to the opposite corner of the bar.

In his experience, fighting smarter always ended up better than going for the most direct offense. Which was exactly inspired the bartender’s next move. Making sure his prosthetic was safe, he grabbed a rag, a bottle of vodka, and headed towards the parking lot.

“Hey Earl, you got a light?” Clyde asked calm as ever. Earl was a townie about 10 years his senior and a quiet man much like the middle Logan. He’d worked with Jimmy up in Charlotte, but beyond that there wasn’t much to know about the man.

“Yeah, here ya go.”

The young bartender then picked up a brick and threw it towards the widow of an expensive looking SUV. The car was plastered with an ugly red wrap. It looked like it was for some off brand energy drink… Just the kind of car the ass currently beating the pulp out of his brother might drive. He then shoved the rag into the vodka bottle and lit his little Molotov cocktail. Within seconds the car had burst into flames. Clyde leaned back against the porch railing, taking a second to admire his handiwork.

What he missed though, was you watching from the window. Alyssa was appalled but you couldn’t wipe the smile off your face. Anybody who even attempted to put Max in his place was someone you wanted to know. That man had an ego the size of a planet.

“Handsome and ballsy,” you smiled after taking a sip of your drink. You couldn't help but wonder if your little trip was about to get about a thousand times more interesting.

#clyde logan #logan lucky #fanfic #fanfiction #adam driver #clyde logan x reader

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coffee-obsessed-writer · 7 years ago

Text

The New World - Part 7

Here is the FULL chapter for part 7! As always, thank you for reading it, this series is easily becoming one of my favorites to write!!

Daryl x Reader, Maggie X Glen, Ezekiel x everyone, Rick x Michonne x Carl

Warnings: Language, Canon-divergence, Character death, Comic storyline crossover

Word Count: 4268

Rick’s pace quickened as it rounded the corner and approached the outside of the cell. Sasha stood against the wall, her gaze off in the opposite direction. The sound of Rick’s boot steps snapped her back to attention, making her stand taller at the door.

“He up?” Rick asked, trying to peer into the small cell window.

“I don’t know, he’s been quiet though.”

“Who’s inside tonight?”

“No one, with Daryl and them gone, and Tobin and Spencer put off duty, we were shorthanded. I tried to get a few of the others but, they were all busy.”

“Comforting,” Rick grunted, shaking his head. “I’m going in.”

“You got it, boss,” Sasha handed Rick the keys and stepped aside for him to enter.

Rick unlocked the door and shoved the keys in his pocket.

He cautiously stepped foot into the prison, first looking down the walkway that passed from the cell to the back door of the townhouse, then over to the cell door.

Rick froze when he saw the cell door was wide open and Negan was nowhere to be found.

Rick stood staring into the empty cell, his heart pounding in his chest.

“Sasha!” he shrieked in a voice thick with panic.

Within seconds, Sasha was yanking open the iron gate and running into the cell.

“What? What’s …” She followed Rick’s wide pale expression to the open, empty cage. Rick heard her audibly gasp, her eyes wide with panic. “Rick, I swear, I didn’t…”

“I know Sasha, I know it wasn’t you,” Rick squeezed his eyes shut trying to think of his next move. “Get to my house. Make sure Michonne and the kids are ok. Get Carl to stay with Judy, tell Michonne to get armed, meet me back here.”

Sasha nodded once and took off to follow his orders. A noise from down the hallway caught Rick’s attention. Quietly slipping the python from its holster, he released the safety and readied himself for whatever lay ahead.

The hallway was nearly pitch dark, save for a trickle of moonlight from the back-door window. Hugging the wall, Rick stalked towards the room where the noises were coming from. A few steps later, he stood in front of the bathroom door. Bumps and knocks were coming from the other side.

Rick cocked his head and took a deep breath. Slowly turning the handle with one hand, he had the pistol raised in the other. Throwing open the bathroom door, the man that used to be Spencer Monroe lunched out at Rick, his eyes glazed over and teeth gnashing at Rick’s neck.

“Shit!” Rick cried out, Spencer’s corpse pushed all its weight into Rick’s body, causing him to crash into the wall behind him. He managed to free the arm that was responsible for the colt and drive the barrel into the walker’s temple. Pulling the trigger, the shot rang out causing the sound to bounce down the hallway and the body dropped to the floor.

“Rick!” he could hear a voice shout from a distance. The ringing in his ears was near deafening. Looking down he saw Spencer lying in a pool of blood forming where Rick shot him. Getting up on one knee, Michonne and Sasha were quickly by Rick’s side. Michonne’s hands all over his chest and neck checking to be sure he wasn't bitten.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” he cooed, gently caressing her hands to try and calm her.

“Is that Spencer?” Michonne asked, disbelief plastered across her face.

“Yeah,” Rick answered steadying himself against the wall. “Guess we have our answer as to who was helpin’ him,” he bent down and moved the collar of Spencer’s shirt to get a closer look. Dark red lines were crisscrossed around his neck, and when Rick pulled his shirt down further, the thin piece of rope used to strangle him was still entangled around his throat.

“What now?” Sasha asked, her usual calm demeanor now shaky.

“Canvas the community, let’s make sure he’s not hiding somewhere. At dawn, we go hunt the asshole down.” Rick said, casting one last look of disgust down at Spencer’s lifeless body.

Daryl strolled into the courtyard of The Kingdom well past breakfast. Glenn was sitting on one of the stone walls watching the Kingdomers going back to their training exercises as Daryl sidled up to him.

“Hey man,” Daryl clapped him on the back of his shoulders, “you seen the girls around?”

“They’re with the kids in the garden with Ezekiel I think,” Glenn looked up at the archer and winced. “You alright? Lookin’ a little rough today.”

“Guess that wine went to my head more than I thought. I ain’t slept this late since Merle and I used to stay up partying all night. I’m too old for this shit,” Daryl pulled out his zippo and lit a smoke while looking around the community. “Any sign of Paul yet?”

“No, not yet. Ezekiel said he’s usually here by mid-day, so should be any time now,” Glenn studied Daryl’s face, gauging if he was in a good mood. “Hey, so I gotta ask ya… Last night with Morgan. You gonna be able to let all that go?”

Daryl squared up his shoulders and took a deep breath. “Why?”

“Because, if there is a problem, and this whole situation needs to be revisited, are you going to be able to work with him?”

Daryl took a drag from his smoke and looked off into the distance. When he met Glenn’s face, he narrowed his eyes. “What if it had been Maggie? Hmm? Morgan’s choice to not shoot Negan when he coulda, resulted in your wife with a gun to her head. How’d you feel then? Could you let it go?”

“I don’t know. Maybe?” Glenn responded. “Look man, I just know that sometimes you got to let shit go. If Negan’s the problem, and this blows up… Morgan and The Kingdom, we’re gonna have to work with them, both.”

Before Daryl could respond Maggie rounded the corner and joined them near the gate.

“Where’s your friend?” Daryl asked, taking another drag from his cigarette.

“She’s still in the gardens with Ezekiel and Morgan. Kids went with Lana to the stables,” Maggie said, shielding her eyes from the bright sun.

Glenn saw Daryl’s body tense at the mention of Morgan’s name.

“She’s with Morgan?” he growled.

“Mmhmm, they’re down to the left and then make a right. Just beyond that brick wall,” Maggie pointed. Without another word Daryl stormed off in the direction she pointed.

“What was that?” She asked draping an arm on Glenn’s shoulders.

“Just Daryl being Daryl,” Glenn said, kissing his wife on her cheek before giving her a squeeze.

The gardens were luscious and ripe with a wide variety of fruit and vegetables that were overflowing from the branches. You listened intently as Ezekiel told you more about the early days of the Kingdom, while Morgan hovered on the fringe of the conversation.

You saw Daryl approaching and started to smile until you saw his telltale signs of being pissed.

“Hey, there you are,” he said to you while throwing a glance at Morgan standing just beyond where you were. “Mornin’,” he nodded to Ezekiel, and then Morgan, albeit reluctantly.

“Morning Daryl,” Ezekiel smiled and turned to Morgan. “We should get going, he’ll be here soon.” Morgan nodded and left without saying anything. “Please, do excuse us. Jesus will be arriving and we are to meet him at the crossroads.”

“Should we go too?” Daryl asked.

“No, we’ll return soon. Stay and enjoy the garden and some quiet time with your misses,” Ezekiel placed a hand on your shoulder and gave you a little wink as he made his leave of you.

“Mornin’ sleepy head,” you teased Daryl, “you feelin’ alright?”

“Yeah, all that wine went to my head. Knocked me out.”

“Are you sure that it was the wine that wore you out?” You teased again, but when you saw he wasn’t reciprocating you started to worry. “Hey, what’s up with you?”

“What the hell you doin’ with Morgan… and where the hell are the kids?”

You raised an eye brow at him and took a step back. “Wow, I see someone woke up on the dickhead side of the bed this mornin’... Um, I wanted to speak with Ezekiel and Morgan was there. As for the kids, they are at the stables with Lana…”

“Why didn’t you take ‘em. You shoulda took ‘em instead of bein’ here with Morgan.”

“Ah, I see what this is about now. Jesus Christ Daryl, you need to let this shit go.” You crossed your arms over your chest and started walking through the garden.

“Not like I ain’t got no reason to trust him,” Daryl said as he followed you through the plants. “You almost died ‘cause of him Y/N. ‘Cause he was too chicken shit to shoot that asshole, Negan got a gun, got a hold of you and nearly killed ya.”

“But he DIDN’T. I am here. Daryl... I’m alive. Let this go baby, please. It was five years ago, and he’s changed. Please, I am begging you to let this go, for me.”

Daryl emitted a guttural reaction, and for the first time that day reached out to pull you into his arms, but you took a step back, not letting him touch you.

He sighed deeply. “Oh, and who the fuck is Lana?”

“Well, if you weren’t being asshole, I coulda told you that Lana used to breed horses on her farm before the outbreak. Right now, she’s showin’ the kids how to brush and feed them, clean their shoes, you know… the stuff they came here to learn.”

“We brought them to learn how to kill…”

“No! I’m talkin’ now…” you put up a palm to stop him and could see the frustration starting to burn in his eyes because it reflected your own. “We brought them here as part of a lesson in survival, Daryl. Do you think that shootin’ guns and stabbin’ walkers is all they need to know?”

When your husband didn’t say anything, you took that as a cue to continue.

“They are the next generation, the ones we are fightin’ for, right? The ones that’ll inherit all this,” you said, motioning to the area around you. “They need to know how to grow quality food, raise livestock, care for horses… THAT’S also survival Daryl. You can teach ‘em how to hunt and track, I can teach them how to read and write. Maggie and Carol can teach ‘em how to care for others, and just generally be bad ass… Glenn, Rick, Sasha… they can teach them too shoot and how to lead... But here, they can learn all the other stuff we can’t teach ‘em.”

Daryl glared at you from beneath the fringes of his hair, blue eyes burning with a mix of emotions you couldn’t read. Chewing on his lip, he crossed his arms and seemed to be able to cool down the fire in his gaze.

“Alright,” he shrugged, arms still crossed. He was pissed, but he was calming. You, however, were not.

“Alright, what? Alright… you’ll stop being a dick to Morgan? Alright that its okay for me to send our children off with someone who can teach them something?”

“Y/N,” Daryl started but you stopped him again.

“No, I am pissed at you Dixon, you’re not gonna cute your way outta this one.” Shaking your head, you continued to walk deeper into the gardens. You heard him sigh behind you, his heavy boot steps following yours as you wound through the paths of succulent fruits.

“Y/N… babe… please, just stop,” he’d caught up to you and left a hand on your shoulder. Daryl turned you to face him, his face completely void of any anger or frustration. His gaze softer and a small smile played on his lips. “I’m sorry, ok? I know I can be a dick. When it comes to you I get a little possessive. Not like I can help it. But, I promise, to stop being so hard on Morgan. I promise to let it go.”

Taking a deep breath, you smiled sweetly at your husband. “I accept your apology, but I am still pissed.”

Daryl looked confused, and even though you could feel any anger leaving your body, you couldn’t pass up an opportunity to make him pay a little.

“I am pissed because this is the first time seeing you today, and you go act like some macho asshole, getting me angry before I even have a chance to kiss you good mornin’. It ain’t right,” you shrugged and started to walk away from him.

Grabbing you by your waist, Daryl spun you around and embraced you tightly so you could move away from him.

“I guess it’s my turn to make apologies now, huh?”

“Mmhmm, you’re damn straight,” you kept your face as serious as possible, but all it took was Daryl to lightly bit at his lower lip and your resolve shattered. Pulling his face to yours, you kissed him deeply. You allowed him to nearly swallow you with his mouth, and as it always was with Daryl, you felt that ache begin between your thighs and his own need hardening beneath his pants.

Putting your hands on his chest, you pushed him back from you, “Easy cowboy, we have company comin’. You’re just gonna have to offer these apologies up later baby. Sorry,” you winked as you pulled out of his arms completely.

Daryl growled and wrapped an arm around your neck, “You’re evil.”

“Well, we are gonna go see Jesus, maybe he can save my soul,” you said, raising a playful brow at him.

Daryl scoffed and shook his head. “Jesus… what kinda name is that anyway? I mean, the man does have a real name.”

You wrapped your arm around Daryl’s waist as the two of you started towards the gates. “Have you not seen him? Baby… he looks like Jesus Christ.”

“Yeah, I get it… still dumb.”

“That’s just cause you got a ‘lil crush on him and his ninja skills,” you teased and grabbed his ass, pulling him closer to you. “

Daryl stopped and shook his head at you. “Woman, I swear, by the end of this day, we’re gonna see who owes who some apologies.”

“Oh, Daryl… promises, promises.”

Ezekiel, Morgan, Glenn, Maggie, and Jesus were all still exchanging welcomes and pleasantries when you and Daryl arrived hand in hand at the gates.

A smile spread across Paul’s face as he spotted the two of you. Releasing Maggie from his embrace, he went to you first and embraced you heartily and giving you a little squeeze in the process.

Turning to Daryl he stretched out a gloved hand and gripped Daryl’s, giving it a firm shake.

“Despite the circumstances, it’s so good to see you all,” Paul said, his bright blue eyes sparkling with warmth.

“I assume you’ve been caught up then?” you ask, hoping that Ezekiel and Morgan filled him up while heading back.

“For the most part, but I would love for us to go somewhere quiet to talk. I want to hear exactly what you remember happening from you, Maggie and Glenn.”

“Let us head into my chambers. I would rather this conversation stay within walls I can control,” Ezekiel declared and directed the group towards his study.

Once in the privacy of Ezekiel’s room, you recounted your tail of the day the walkers breached the walls. Paul listened with an attentive ear, occasionally throwing a look at Daryl or Glenn as you and Maggie relived the afternoon.

Paul sat back in his chair and ran a hand over his face, down his beard. “Well, I am fairly certain, we have a problem then. I was really hoping it was exclusive to The Hilltop, but I can see now with what you’ve told me, there is something bigger happening.”

“Yeah, Negan,” Daryl huffed and headed towards the opening to the balcony. He lit a cigarette and shambled out towards the fresh air.

“He’s just nervous,” you said trying to blow off his still surly demeanor. Paul caught the look of worry on your face and reached over to squeeze your hand.

“We all are hun,” he smiled at you sweetly and you felt your nerves settle a little. Paul’s calm demeanor was a welcome change to Daryl’s and acknowledging that made you feel slightly guilty. You knew Daryl just wanted to protect you, but his constantly changing mood was starting to make you feel frazzled.

Glenn sighed and sat back in his chair, grasping Maggie’s hand in his. “Jesus, what is happening at The Hilltop? Is Gregory still in charge? I mean, the last time we saw him, he wasn’t exactly friendly.”

“He is, for now. But the people are not happy with him and he’s not happy with them. You know Gregory, he thinks it should be his way and his way only. He doesn’t like the trade rules the three communities have established. Not to mention…”

Paul stopped and looked across the faces around the table. Hearing Daryl’s footsteps, he turned and threw a glance towards him before continuing.

“He’s been disappearing lately. Kal, you know him, right?” he paused as you all nodded, “him too… I don’t know where they go, but at least twice a week they’ve been going out beyond the gates. Just gives me a bad feeling.”

“Rick’s going to want to hear this,” Glenn said, running a hand through his hair.

“Indeed,” Ezekiel spoke up and carefully looked around the table. “I propose we head out straight away for Alexandria. Let us speak with the Sheriff and his queen, then to the prisoner himself. We shall get to the bottom of this one way or another.”

After the meeting was over, Maggie and Glenn returned to their room to pack and Ezekiel and Morgan left to make arrangements for the journey back to Alexandria.

You watched them all leave but never moved from your seat. Paul hung back as well and once again took your hand in his.

“You ok?” He asked, his bright blue eyes smiling at you despite the heaviness of the situation.

“No, not really,” you said quietly and dared a glance out towards the balcony where Daryl remained. “I’m just worried. Mostly about him… he’s not handling this like he normally would.”

“Y/N, I’ve known you all a long time now. Daryl is strong and capable, but he has a weakness, sweetheart. Men who have a weakness cannot always be held accountable for their behavior. Unfortunately for him, you’re his weakness and there’s no riding himself of it. That’s a lot for a man to carry on his shoulders.”

You snorted a laugh but knew he was right. “He’s going to hate me, Paul,” the smile faded from your lips and you could feel your gut turning at the thought of the conversation you still needed to have with Daryl.

“Oh please, that man couldn’t hate you even if he tried. He’s so in love with you, it’s ridiculous,” Paul’s eyes drifted out to the balcony, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Trust me, we would all kill for what the two of you have.”

“Well, after he hears what I want, he may be the one to kill me.”

“What is it that you want hun?” Paul’s grasp of your hand tightened.

“To stay here at The Kingdom while you all go back to Alexandria.”

Paul’s eyes widened with surprise. “Oh,” he said almost breathlessly. “Well, that may a harder conversation than I thought.”

“What’s that?” Daryl asked as he entered the room, only having heard Paul’s comment.

You and Paul exchanged a worried glance as you stood from your respective chairs.

“I’m going to let you talk,” Paul smiled at you and went to leave the room. Stopping next to Daryl, he placed a hand on your husband’s broad shoulder and squeezed.

“Be kind, okay? Just hear her out.”

Daryl’s brow furrowed in confusion as he looked back and forth between you and Paul. Offering you one last smile of support, he left the room to catch up with Ezekiel.

“What the hell’s he talkin’ about?” Daryl asked, the earlier frustration rising in him again.

“Baby, we need to talk about what happens next…”

Before you could continue, Lana entered the room followed by Abe and Shelby who both barreled into you and Daryl as they ran through the doorway.

“Mama! The horses were so cool! Miss Lana let me and Abey ride!” Shelby exclaimed, her big blue eyes shining like diamonds as she recounted her afternoon.

“Me too,” Abe said grinning up at Daryl.

Bending down, he picked up his son and studied his face carefully. Looking at the joy written all over their faces, you could see his chest rise and fall with several deep breaths. As the children continued to prattle on about the horses, Daryl seemed to come to a realization and nodded to you.

“You wanna stay here with them, right? That’s what you wanna talk about?”

Relief washed over you. You sat back down in the chair and slowly exhaled the breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

“Yes Daryl, I do.”

“I hate it Y/N,” Daryl sat down where Paul had been sitting, Abe positioned on his lap and Shelby on yours. Daryl took your hand and looked between the three of you. “Y’all are my world,” his voice cracked, nearly breaking your heart. You knew this would be hard, but you also knew it was for the best. “I know its right, but don’t make it easy.”

“I know baby,” your free hand found his. Bringing it to your lips, you kissed his fingers gently.

“Ew! Mama kissed daddy!” Shelby squealed and jumped out of your lap.

Both you and Daryl chuckled. Abe quickly followed his sister as they began to run circles around Ezekiel’s grand table.

Daryl pulled your chair closer to his and leaned his forehead to yours. “The idea of not wakin’ up to you makes me crazy. But it won’t be for long, right?”

“It can’t be, Daryl. I would go crazy being away from you too long. Just go home, deal with this and then come back,” you got up from your seat and slipped into his lap. Nestling your head into his neck, you drew in a deep breath of his scent and relished in the way it made you feel.

His arms wrapped around your torso and as his mouth found yours, your lips parted allowing him to have you, but he didn’t take advantage this time. Instead, his lips lingered sweetly on yours just long enough for Shelby to squeal again and making you both laugh.

“You got this, Dixon,” you whispered to him, pulling away from his kiss.

“Yeah, I do. So do you, Dixon,” he replied mockingly. “Just a few days, right?”

“Yeah baby, just a few days.”

Sitting in the master suite of The Kingdom, you relished in the love your little family gave you and knew that no matter what happened, both you and Daryl would do everything necessary to make sure you were safe again together soon.

The moonlight offered enough of a view of the small map, for him to know he’d arrived at his destination. Spencer hadn’t failed to deliver the items he needed for his journey, but Negan had certainly failed Spencer.

Grinning, Negan approached the back of the high wall as his mind flashed back to the feeling of wrapping the rope around the idiot’s neck and the satisfying crush of his windpipe. Stretching out his arms to the side, and drawing in a deep breath, the former leader of the Saviors then raised his hands to the moon and resisted the urge to howl.

Spencer had been visiting him for only about a year, but Negan had quickly grown tired of the man’s whining. He constantly asked himself how Rick had not yet killed the ‘fucking shit stain’ but somehow resisted the urge to ask him straight out.

Negan knew not to look a gift horse in the mouth though when Spencer finally admitted his hatred for Rick. He knew that Spencer, somehow, could be his ticket out of the cell and on his way back to the top of the food chain.

Sure, he’d promised to take Spencer to The Hilltop with him; that had been the plan. Negan had a small window to arrive at his new home, and it was all a matter of timing. Spencer and his prattling on had nearly fucked that all up. So, instead of taking him to meet up with Gregory, Negan discarded the stain in the prison bathroom before heading on to begin phase two of his plan.

The crisp night air felt like bliss on his skin. All he needed now was a hot meal, a warm bed and a curvy body to share it with him. The thought of having all that within his grasp caused an ache in his groin made and a guttural reaction from deep within.

From the shadows, Negan saw Gregory step out, his hands turning with anxiety in each other as he came face to face with his old enemy.

“Ne- Negan,” Gregory nodded hesitantly and looked behind him for Spencer. “Where… uh… where’s the boy?”

“Boy?” Negan chuckled, “Oh, that boy. He’s dead. Slipped and fell in the bathroom I hear. Such a fucking shame, huh?”

Gregory swallowed hard and wanted to wretch when the sick feeling rose in his throat. “Terrible,” he muttered, his hand absently tugging at his collar.

“So, are you going to show me to my new home, or…. Do you wanna sit out here under the moonlight and remind me of what it means to be a fucking man?! Cause, no offense buddy, you really aren’t my fucking type. I was hopin’ for someone with more…” Negan dramatically made curves of a woman with his hands while licking his lips.

“Uh, follow me. Your quarters are all ready,” Gregory responded nervously and stepped quickly towards the back passage into The Hilltop.

“And, where is our Lord and fucking savior this evening? Has he fled the grounds yet to help all those poor fucking souls in need?” Negan inquired, casually sauntering behind Gregory and watching the man like a hawk.

“Yes, Jesus has left for The Kingdom as planned. I imagine they are all there now trying to sort it out.”

“Oh, I imagine that they fucking are, Gregory,” Negan purred to himself, a feeling of satisfaction settling into his core. “I imagine they are.”

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