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ma-lark-ey · 4 years ago

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((Remember that brief post I made on Lark(?) getting sick? Yeah here's a whole chapter. But this time its angsty))

CW; for sickness, mentions of vomit, dry-heaving, minor panic attack description, spoilers for Episode 39-40. Theres some Oakson if you squint, I dunno if that counts at a trigger,,, but yeah

Henry couldn't remember the last time Lark was the twin to get sick. He had such an impenetrable immune system he thought he was incapable of the thing. But here he was, fixing Lark a bowl of soup while he laid on the couch under a fuzzy blanket.

"Here, Birdie. Don't eat it too fast, alright?" He brushed Lark's bangs back and pressed a kiss to his forehead. Sure, his boy was nearly fifteen, but no child is too old for a sweet forehead kiss.

That usual fire Lark had boiling in him was dessimated by his case of some virus, and instead of his usual extravagant response to Henry, he just nodded.

"When's Ma gonna be home?" He asked, pushing himself to sit up enough to eat comfortably. His eyes looked like a raccoons, deep dark circles around them, sunk and dull. His skin was pale and lifeless. He could pass as a vampire. And that's his the boys went, either they were perfectly healthy, or they nose dove into being couch bound for a week.

"Somewhere around seven, she's bringing dinner. But, I may have to leave here soon. I have a meeting for something. You think you'll be alright by yourself for a little bit?" Henry hated the thought of leaving his boy when he was so vulnerable. Anything could happen in two hours. Especially with how quickly Lark's health could plummet. Last time one of them got sick, Sparrow was fine Friday morning and by Sunday evening they were taking him to urgent care because he had fluid in his lungs.

"I'll be fine, Dad." Lark set his half eaten bowl of soul on the coffee table, snuggling right back down into his blankets. "Hey, could you go get me the plush on my bed? The- the Pichu one."

"Of course, Lark. I'll be right back." Henry stood, making sure Lark was cozy in his blankets and went to grab the stuffed animal. It was rare the twins had toys un-destroyed as kids, but that Pokemon bear Nick had gotten Lark as a birthday gift when they were six? That thing always stayed perfectly in tact.

He picked the old, well-loved toy up off the bed. He could see the stitching on its ear where Sparrow had accidentally ripped it when they were seven. Lark cried for hours, wouldn't talk to Sparrow for thirty whole minutes over it.

The young granola-crunching dad trotted back downstairs. Lark was laying limp on the couch, breathing short and shallow. He looked horrid. Henry's going to have to cancel his meeting, he knows that. He's not leaving Lark alone when he looks this bad. Henry should recheck his temperature.

He set the Pichu down in the gap between Lark and the back of the couch, placing his palm on his forehead. God,,the kid felt like fire.

Lark gagged suddenly, throwing the blankets off himself and grabbing the pot he kept on the floor next to him. The soup he'd just eaten came right back up, he sat there, hunched over, crying and dryheaving for a good five minutes. Henry rubbed circles in his back and tried to soothe him. But, Lark couldn't even keep water down anymore. Henry knew he was dehydrated, and he didn't know what to do anymore.

Lark let out a sob, leaning into his dad. Henry held his boy against him, not daring to give a gentleman sway like he usually would.

"It hurts... Everything hurts..." He whimpered. He sounded so small, which wasn't a way Lark Oak-Garcia should sound.

"I know, baby. I know." Henry reached for thermometer he'd been keeping on the coffee table. He pulled it out of the protective case.

Lark looked at him, his eyes looked so tired. He opened his mouth and let Henry put the device under his tongue. It took a minute, but the thing beeled and Henry checked.

106.7. Oh hell no. Oh heeeell no.

"Get some shoes on, Lark, we're going to the emergency room." He said quickly, pushing himself to his feet and going to grab his keys, phone, wallet, and own shoes.

"Dad, I'm fine, I-"

"You're temperature is one hundred and SIX! That is not fine! Get some shoes!" Henry felt his hands started to shake. No, not now. He felt that familiar crushing feeling of his chest caring in on itself. Not now. Stupid panic attack disorder.

"Dad, really, itll go down in the hour I'm-"

"Lark Oliver Oak-Garcia, do not argue with me on this please, we are going to the emergency room and thats final. Now put on your shoes!" He knew he snapped, but he was freaking out. He didn't know anything about his stuff. In the Realms, when someone was this sick you'd cast a healing spell and bada-bing bada-boom, hes fine! But this isn't the realms, and there isn't magic! He pressed trembling fingers to his temples, trying to ease himself out of the coming panic attack before he really got consumed in the anxieties. He needed to be Dad right now, not Henry.

He looked around the room, listing off things he could touch or hear or see. Just like Mercedes had taught him.

Deep breath in.... Deep breath out. Its good. Lark's good. Focus on getting him to the doctor.

Henry snatched his keys and phone off the table, grabbing his wallet from the counter in passing and shuffling to get on his Birkenstocks.

Lark was shuffling awkwardly to the door, holding his Pichu plush. He looked nauseous just standing, but both Henry and Lark knew there was nothing left in his system to come back up.

Henry helped him into the passenger seat and buckled his seat belt, leaning it back so he wasnt sitting straight up and making himself light-headed. Then, he got himself in the drivers seat and pulled out of the driveway, handing his phone to Lark.

"Call your brother." He said sternly, eyes focused on the road as he moved to the urgent care clinical as fast as possible. Of course Lark listened, and Sparrow came through the Bluetooth of the car.

"Hey, Dad. What's up? How's Lark doing?"

"Hi, Sparrow. Letting you know, Lark's fever is almost 107, so we're going to the emergency room. Don't know when I'll be home, you can stay with one of the boys, or stay at home. I don't care. Mom's gonna be home around seven."

"Uh- oh! Okay. Um... Okay. Thats- okay, Dad. Is he okay? Just a high fever?" Of course Sparrow immediately sounding absolutely terrified.

"Don't panic,,Lark's good. He's just... He's low on fluids, his fevers high. I'll send you plenty of updates, promise. But, I gotta let you go cause we're here and I need to get him in. I love you so much, Sparrow."

"I... I love you too, Dad. And Lark. I- okay. I'll probably stay at Terry's."

"That's fine, call me when you get there, okay?"

"Okay... Bye."

"Bye, Sparrow.

------------

Henry paced the waiting room. Its not that they were doing anything major to Lark, just running some standard health checks and getting him settled in a room for the night. But, your pride and joy, your beautiful son whom you love more than life itself being in a hospital room without you? Terrifying. Fucking terrifying.

Darryl had arrived about five minutes ago, and was currently trying to get Henry to stand still.

"Darryl, Darryl, darling, you're wonderful but you really need to shut the fuck up. If I sit, I will stop the adrenalin rush and when I stop the adrenaline rush my thoughts start going-"

"Henry-"

"and that means my brain turns back on and when my brain turns back on, it means I'll probably have a panic attack and I really don't want to have one right now,"

"Henry!"

"at this moment, because for the love of god, Darryl, I need to know when my boy is okay and I can't know when my boy is okay if I have a panic attack because then I won't be able to-" Darryl grabbed hold of Henry's shoulders and stared him right in the eye.

"HENRY!" Thank god he finally got him to stop going down the rabbit hole, it took Henry long enough. He stared the other father in the eyes. His mind stopped for a moment. Just a moment. But it was a long enough moment.

Darryl knew the tears were coming before Henry ever showed signs of beginning to cry. He pulled him into a tight hug and just held him there, in strong arms.

"Its okay, Henry. He's fine. Just a high fever and some dehydration. He'll be fine." Darryl promised him.

------------

And, Darryl was right. Lark was fine. Henry freaked out over nothing. Late that night, Lark was discharged again. After his fever went back down and they gave him fluids.

It was now well past midnight, and Henry was exhausted. He got his just as tired son in bed, tucking him in and making sure the pichu was tucked in Lark's arms. He gave yet another forehead kiss, turning off the lamp.

"Goodnight, kiddo. Hope you feel better in the morning."

And, Henry dragged himself back to his bedroom, where Mercedes laid already asleep. He changed into a pair of pajama pants and crawled in next to her. Like her sixth sense, she rolled over to use Henry as some kind of large teddy bear like she did everything night. It was so nice. He took a long, deep, satisfying breath and settled into his pillows. His eyes became heavy, and he fell asleep faster than he had in years.

#dndads #dungeons and daddies #this was more slef-indulgence than anything #henry has panic attacks okay? no one can take this away from me.

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firehedgehog · 5 years ago

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Retconned Chapter Thirteen: Unlucky

So the plot is moving forward, this is linked to another story. and yes.. this was planned when i originally started both stories

“The Good Sans want to have a meeting with the Dark Sans?” Goth said in surprise.

“The Retcons have rather spooked them,” Error said as he knitted.

“Well... is is a rather spooky issue,” Blue said, the rather energetic small Sans had appeared in the anti-void earlier in the day and was using the hanging strings as swings.

“How did you get here anyway, Error didn’t cough kidnap cough you today and he didn’t open any portals today?” Goth asked, after living in the anti-void so long eh became sensitive enough to feel portals open there.

“Err...” Blue said a strange look on his face.

Flashback

Blue was cooking his Taco’s, he was sure that this batch would be perfect.

“They smell perfect,” he said happily, putting them down to cool.

Even better, he’d heard Cross would be busy till tomorrow so no Taco stealing Sans would get them today. He sat down to relax til he could eat them.

“Arf!”

“Noooo,” Blue cried spinning around, dropping his book.

Sitting on the counter was annoying Dog, the white mutt that seemed to jump between multiverses on a Lark.

A counter devoid of Tacos.

“No, bad annoying Dog, Bad!” he cried, and starting chasing the dog in wain hope to retrieve the Taco’s in whatever subspace the canine had hidden them.

“Toby.. no!” he cried.

Then tripped.

When he looked up, he was alone.

And in the anti-void.

“That’s cheating!” he cried.

Twenty minutes later Error found him.

End Flashback.

“Ha ha ha, nothing to be concerned about,” Blue laughed.

No one wanted to ever speak of the things that dog did.

“Riiiight...” Goth said dryly.

OoOoO

The room was enormous and over crowded, people giving some of there neighbours nervous looks.

There hadn’t been such a huge gathering.. well ever.

Dark, Light.. neutral.

Beings of as many AU’s as could come.

It was a freaking zoo.

There were quite a few nervous glances towards the very front off to the left, for there were a lot of the Sanses known as the big bad’s.

Including the destroyer.

For Error and Nightmare to be there, along with Nightmares crew something had to be up.

Silence filled the area as Ink and Dream walked onto the stage.

“From your silence, by now you’ve realized this is a serious issue,” Dream said placing his notes on the podium.

“For the last several years, there have been thousands of AU’s destroyed. Yet not by the destroyer,” Dream said, that set off whispering of disbelief. “Part of it you might have coem across, the fact no one can actually what these destroyed AU’s were, or suddenly you feel as if something or someone is missing.”

There was a very deep silence at that.

“We have discovered the cause, its called Retcons. It erases Au’s people.. everything it touches. There has been only one true survivor, and only Error’s anti-void kept them alive. I escaped being retconned because of that person, but it still cost me several minutes of memory,” Dream said.

Hidden between Error and Nightmare Goth sighed, after being in pretty much isolation for years in the anti-void many people made him nervous.

“Each of you find packets under you seats, the survivor’s name is not on it before you ask and will not be released. I ask you to reach out with bit of information you may have or come across, All the information as little as we have is in it. Thank you,” Dream said, and left the podium.

Goth felt deep relief his name would not be released.

He had enough nightmares of people demanded while he existed why another didn’t.

“Let’s get out of here kid,” Error said patting hsi shoulder Goth nodded and gripped his lantern tighter.

That’s when the roof came off.

Literally.

OoOoO

Perfect!

Just perfect!

So many of them together!

Even the one that escaped.

Without that one, bits and pieces that they couldn’t retcon would be erased.

They’d wipe more then half the multiverse in seconds.

“Then they will be gone, just like you brother,” he laughed.

OoOoO

The multiverse must have a sense of irony.

That was what Geno thought as arcs of purple lightning began to bleed into the world, anything ht was just gone.

The ceiling was just gone, revealing a black sky.

Monsters or humans it hit, were just gone.

This was a Retcon.

He was pretty sure, that the only reason that they remembered those lost was that they were in the midst of the event.

Screams surrounded him, as people tried to escape causing injuries to others as they trampled them in there panic. Portals and Shortcuts didn’t seem to work, so this situation didn’t look good.

“This is all your fault,” a Sans screamed at the destroyer, who hadn’t escaped either.

“Your a nimrod,” Error said, the sans would have attacked but more screaming caught those nearbys attention.

“Please, let me go,” A child’s voice cried.

“Were all going die, give me the freaking lantern,” a voice snarled.

Geno spun around and ran, the Sans didn’t have a moment to prepare and Geno slapped him away from Goth.

“Are you okay Gothy?” Geno asked, the nickname slipping from his mouth to his surprised.

Goth broke down in tears, Geno grabbed Goth into a hug.

This was his child, he might not remember but this was his kid.

“I.. don’t want to be retconned again,” Goth cried.

“Shh.. we’ll figure this out, your papa always has a plan,” Geno whispered.

Suddenly he flying back, shocked as Goth violently threw him backwards.

The world seemed to go quiet and frozen to Geno, his hand out reached towards Goth.

Goth smiled.

“I love you,” Goth said.

Lightning hit.

Geno screamed as the lantern fell to the ground.

Shattered.

OoOoO

Goth stumbled and fell, cold sand under him made him more aware.

He’d been retconned.

Again.

But shouldn’t he be non existent?

Wincing he slowly got up, noting he was lacking his save lantern but he didn’t feel that time limit eh did usually.

“Where am I?” he asked outloud.

The sky was darker then black, the only bits of light were purple lightning which was signs of being retconned. Where ever he was, it was also gone, except for this small space of sand.

And a statue.

...

“Palette,” he screamed, recognizing the statue.

“No no no,” he cried.

“Oh...” he said freezing, as one of his many selves memories came forward.

He wasn’t just Goth, he was teh Goth’s of this multiverse also.. a multiverse fully Retconned except for this one spot.

Now he could feel it, a tiny shard of soul.. a piece of his soul.

“We have to wake you up,” he whispered.

OoOoO

“Please please wake up,” a voice begged.

He hurt, so badly...

“Come on, I know your alive... I need you to help me reverse this!” the voice begged, it was a child’s voice and familiar.

Wait that Voice!

That was Goth’s voice.

He gave a gasp as something shattered around him, and he fell to the ground.

Woozily he looked up, he could see shards of Stone on Sand.

“Goth?” he asked his voice raspy.

Wait.. the clothing were wrong.

“Sorry, call me Retconned,” the Goth whispered.

Palette fell unconscious, from the stress of breaking free from being turned to stone.

OoOoO

When Palette woke again, it was to the thought that it was too dark.

Slowly he shifted til he could see the Goth called Retconned, who was curled in a ball on the sand tear track down there face.

It was then that he realized that something was seriously wrong.

The sky was pitch black... with purple lightning arcing across it, but there was no sound and he could only see about five feet away from himself and Retconned.

“Its called a Retcon, when your AU or multiverse is erased from everything even living memories,” a soft voice sad, turning he saw that Retconned had woken.

“My... multiverse got Retconned? But how am I still here! Wherever this is that is.... and how are you here?” Palette asked panicked, e couldn’t save Gothy if Gothy didn’t exist.

“Two things saved you, you being sealed in stone and this,” Retconned said, gently opening his hand. Palette made a strangled sound, as a speck of glowing soul was revealed.

“How... I thought that weird Alternate o me stole all of Goth’s soul shards,” he said in disbelief.

“He loves you very much, you never did check your own soul for a speck,” Retconned sighed.

“That idiot,” he cried, even now Goth was protecting him.

“As to how I got here, I’m from the multiverse right next to this one. The retcon hasn’t swallowed all of it, but apparently it finally got me. Originally all the Goth’s got Retconned in my multiverse at the same time yours did, but I survived... you could say in simple terms I’m all the Goth’s,” Goth sighed, and explained his situation and the function of the save lantern.

“Wait... are the Goth’s of my multiverse there too?” Palette asked quickly, Retconned blushed heavily and Palette felt relief. “Than there is still hope, I still exist... and your still here even though you said your not. Then lets fix this!” Palette said jumping to his feet.

“I don’t know how to fix it, the save lantern that kept me stable is missing and I’m in the wrong multiverse...” Retconned said unhappily.

“Since your the Goth’s of both multiverses maybe you can slide back over and we can smash the source of the Retcons!” Palette said excitedly.

“I can try,” Retconned said frowning.

“Ah... before we try anything, do you have any idea how i got turned into a stone statue?”Palette asked embarrassed.

“From my memories here, just as you went to leave Nightmare Pallette reappeared as apparently he never left. Using the apples curse he sealed you away. I’m afraid at that moment the retcons hit, the sealing and the soul shard somehow slightly moved you a bit out of phase keeping the retcon from you,” Retconned replied. After all his Goth was part of him, and was still connected to the soul shard.

“Thanks...” he said, he wasn’t happy that his.. multiverse was just gone with only himself and his Goth amalgamated into Retconned to remember it.

“Well, lets try this,” Retconned said with a sad smile.

“No try, do,” Palette said grinning.

Retconned laughed, and then they were gone.

Seconds later the spot they were in was Retconned, no longer phased away from the rest of the multiverse. And thus The Shatter multiverse appears

#retconned #shatter #Goth: @nekophy #fanfic

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three-drink-amy · 6 years ago

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In the Eye of a Hurricane

Sorry it’s been a bit since my last chapter! I hope you enjoy this one!

Note: there are descriptions of abuse and violence.

Chapter one - chapter two - chapter three- AO3

Chapter Four

Claire couldn’t sleep and sat up reading. She’d taken a stack of books from the Lallybroch family library for the nights she couldn’t sleep. It was fairly often, actually. Her eyes were starting to grow heavy as she sat in the chair in her room. The best strategy she had was reading until she could barely hold her eyes open any longer. If she crashed when she fell asleep, it tended to keep dreams about Frank at bay.

Just as she turned the page to start a new chapter, a deep scream ripped through the silence of the house. Claire threw her book to the floor and tore from her room. Once in the hall, she met Ian with a grim look on his face. “Was that Jamie?” she asked.

“Well it certainly wasna Wee Jamie,” Ian joked. Claire furrowed her brow, not appreciating Ian’s joke. Another shriek came from the door they stood in front of. “Look, he just has nightmares.”

Claire nodded, remembering how he had before. She occasionally had them herself. Shaking her head, she turned and walked in Jamie’s room.

“What are ye doing, Claire? Ye’re no’ supposed to wake someone wi’ night terrors!” Ian whispered as he followed her into the room.

“So what, you want him to just suffer?” she asked. They both looked to his bed where Jamie was thrashing and screaming. Claire could almost guarantee where he was in his dream. She couldn’t stop herself. With a gentle hand, she shook Jamie, trying to wake him as smoothly as possible.

He jolted awake, panting like he’d just run a race. A look of terror was clear on his face as his eyes bounced around, trying to figure out where he was.

“You’re okay, Jamie,” Claire assured him. “The war is over. You’re home at Lallybroch. No one is going to hurt you here. You’re safe.” Her hands tightened on his arms, trying to ground him in reality.

His breath was still ragged as his eyes focused on her. “Claire?”

She nodded to him. “Yes, it’s me. You’re safe.” Ignoring the voice in her head, Claire reached up and smoothed the hair out of his face. His hand grabbed on to hers, holding it tightly. “It was just a nightmare. I promise you.”

Jamie closed his eyes and nodded as his breathing began to slow. He looked at her and Ian. “I’m sorry to have woken up the whole house.”

“Nonsense,” Claire quickly replied. “I wasn’t asleep, actually. I was reading.”

“Aye, I wasna sleeping either,” Ian reassured. “And it doesna seem as though the wee one was bothered at all. No’ to worry, Bràthair.”

Jamie pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers. “Still, I’m sorry.”

Claire ducked to make eye contact with Jamie, making sure he held her gaze. “You have nothing to be sorry for. I get them too. I think it’s rather hard to go through the war and not have them at least once.” She turned and looked back at Ian, lifting her eyebrows in encouragement.

“Aye, I get them as well sometimes,” Ian chimed in. “It’s been less frequent as time went on. I’m sure it will be the same for ye.”

“Thank ye. The both of ye,” Jamie responded, his eyes closed again.

“Dinna mention it. Twas nothing. Ye should try to sleep more,” Ian instructed. “We can go.”

Jamie reached out and grabbed Claire’s hand as she stood up from her perch on the edge of his bed. “No, please dinna go,” he cried, his voice raspy.

“Okay, I’ll stay,” she immediately answered. Claire sat back down, running a hand along Jamie’s arm. She tried to calm him back down. Her hand was still tightly grasped in his. “Shhhh,” she soothed. “You’re fine. Just try to go back to sleep.” She hummed a quiet melody to herself, hoping it put him at ease.

Jamie curled back in on himself, still holding her hand. His brow was furrowed as his eyes closed. Claire could tell the dream must have really rattled him. She moved her unoccupied hand up to stroke his hair. There wasn’t much she remembered about her mother, but that comforting motion was one thing that always stuck out to her.

It took a bit, but slowly Jamie’s breathing evened out, his grip on her hand lessened, and he seemed to be truly asleep. As Claire stood up to creep out of his room, she was overcome by the urge to plant a kiss on his forehead. Shaking her head, she tiptoed out of the room and turned to go back to hers. Her footsteps halted as she saw Ian waiting by her door.

“Is he asleep?”

Claire nodded.

“Ye’ve done that before, haven’t ye?” Ian questioned.

“Comforted someone after nightmares? Yes. During the war I found myself doing that a lot. Soldiers see enough horror during the day and it inevitably seeps into their dreams as well,” Claire replied.

“Aye, I’m sure so. But I meant, ye’ve calmed Jamie down from his nightmares before. Haven’t ye?” Ian asked again.

Claire took a deep breath. “Yes.”

“And ye ken all that happened to him?”

Claire stared at him. “Well, yes. I was there when he was brought into our camp. I do know all that happened to him.”

“I dinna ken it,” Ian remarked, looking down at the floor. “He told us that he was captured and tortured but no’ much more than that.”

Claire stood up straighter, crossing her arms. “I’m sorry, Ian, but that’s not my story to tell. If Jamie wants you to know what happened, he’s going to have to be the one to tell you.”

Ian shook his head. “Oh Christ, I wasna asking! I promise. I can see how ye would have thought that. No, I wasna. It’s just hard to not know. I mean, wi’ me, it’s fairly obvious what happened to me,” he said, gesturing down to his leg. “But wi’ Jamie, I dinna ken what happened to him, except that I assume it was something done to his back.”

“Why do you assume that?”

“Well, I grew up no’ far from here. Jamie and I have been friends since we were lads. We used to play around the lands and oftentimes we’d help Jamie’s da around the farm. And on a warm summer day, we’d take off our shirts if we werena comfortable. As ye do. But there have been days like that since he’s been back and the shirt has stayed on. Matter of fact, I havena seen him wi’out one since he returned and we live in the same house,” Ian informed her.

“Look, all I will say is that Jamie got captured with five other men,” Claire recalled, “and given that I saw all the other men’s injuries, I can accurately say that Jamie got the worst of it. I don’t know why they chose him. It wouldn’t surprise me if he tried to be brave or cocky or something, but he got it the worst of the six men. And that’s bound to come with scars and nightmares.”

Ian nodded. “Pardon me for asking, but it’s been on my mind since ye got here. And seeing what just happened, it only increases my need to ask ye.” Claire nodded for him to continue. “Did something happen with ye and Jamie?”

Claire shrugged. “It was the war. Is it hard to imagine that something could have happened to me or to Jamie?”

“No, tha’s no’ exactly wha’ I meant,” Ian admitted.

It took a moment before his true meaning occurred to Claire. With a small gasp, she gaped at him. “Are you trying to ask me if anything happened between me and Jamie?” Ian opened his mouth to answer but Claire kept speaking. “Good Lord, Ian, I was married!”

“Ye’re still married,” he reminded her.

“Yes, I am, thanks for the reminder,” she retorted. “But then I was married to a man I believed would never hurt me or treat me the way he has.” She paused for a moment, staring Ian down. “Nothing happened between me and Jamie. Nothing.”

Ian held up his hands in surrender. “Sorry. I didna mean to offend ye.” He shook his head a bit. “It’s just that ye’re so close.”

Claire sighed. “Well, I suppose we are,” she confessed. “Nothing romantic happened between us, but I guess something did. We became each other’s rocks. War was brutal and so we leaned on each other. He was healing from an unthinkable injury and I more or less assigned myself to his care. And I...I needed a friend. And that’s what he was to me. We helped each other through things we never thought we’d go through. I suppose that’s where the closeness stems from. For a while I felt dependant on him and I think he felt the same way.”

“I’m sorry for askin’, Claire,” Ian said. “I just wanted to understand better what it is between ye. But what ye say makes sense. Jamie’s always said ye saved his life but he never went into detail about it. I always assumed it was medically, but perhaps it wasna.” Claire took a deep breath, absorbing what Ian was saying. “Anyway, I should be getting sleep as well. Lord knows, the wee one will be up with the lark and wanting me to be up with him. Good night, Claire.”

“Good night, Ian,” she replied, watching Ian walk back down the hall to his room. Claire exhaled as she went back in her own room. Something about what Ian asked was eating at her and she couldn’t figure out why.

* * *

It had been a slow day in the medical tent. Naturally, that meant Claire was rooted near Jamie’s cot. They were talking about nothing in particular. For a split second, Claire almost forgot that they were in the middle of a war. Instead, she just felt like she was spending time with a friend. Jamie was shifting like he was going to sit up.

“Whoa, what do you think you’re doing?” Claire demanded.

Jamie rolled his eyes. “Do ye ken how uncomfortable it is to lay here like this?”

Claire shrugged. “I’m sure it is. But I’d think a bleeding back would be more uncomfortable in the grand scheme of things.”

Jamie sighed dramatically. “So when do ye think I’ll be able to move again? Or even sit up, for that matter.”

Claire tapped her finger on her chin. “Let me think. You’re 22, right?” Jamie narrowed his eyes at her as he nodded. “I’d say it will easily be before you’re 30.”

His eyes widened, but a smile betrayed him. “Ah, jokes, is it?”

She couldn’t help but laugh at herself. “Why not?” Claire squatted to be at his eye level. “Look, I know this must be brutally uncomfortable, but it’s all so you can heal. The shallow cuts have scabbed and are well into the healing process. But the deeper ones, the ones that will really hurt if torn open, they’re just a bit slower to close up. You survived being bloody flogged. I think you’ll be okay for a few more days.”

Jamie scoffed. “Dinna patronize me, Sassenach.”

“I’m truly not trying to,” she replied. “I’m simply trying to put it in perspective.”

“Alright,” he grumbled. “So what did ye find out about Nurse Dogface over there?”

“Jamie!” Claire scolded, trying to hold in a laugh.

“What? Ye’re the one who named her that!” he reminded her.

“Yes, well it seems wrong hearing someone else call her that,” Claire admitted. “I shouldn’t have said such a thing. She’s a fine person.”

Jamie made a face. “Sure she is. So she didna make comments about ye that ye overheard and told me about?” He gave her a pointed look.

“We’re in the middle of a war, not at school,” Claire said. “Things aren’t simple. If we were just two girls at school, perhaps I’d be catty right back, but I’m choosing to rise above it.”

“And just vent about it to me?”

Claire thought about it for a moment. “Yes. I don’t really have another alternative. If I said something to one of the other nurses, they’d want us to talk about it and I definitely don’t have the energy for that.” She got down closer so she could whisper and he would still hear. “Besides, I heard that the doctors are not at all pleased with her and are requesting her transfer to another medical camp. Perhaps even out of France.” Claire couldn’t hide the smile on her face.

Jamie grinned along with her. “Serves her right for trying to mess with Nurse Randall.”

Claire scoffed. “Please don’t make it sound like I had anything to do with it. I don’t want that reputation.”

Jamie chuckled. “Aye, my lips are sealed.”

“Anyway, I saw one of your men over here earlier, how did that go?” Claire asked, needing to change the subject.

“Och, they’re no’ my men. We’re all in the same regiment is all,” Jamie corrected her.

Claire rolled her eyes. “Whatever. You hadn’t talked to any of them since you were all freed and scattered throughout this medical compound. What did he have to say?”

“Well frankly, he couldna get much out after he took a look at my back,” Jamie admitted with a roll of his eyes. “It was what I feared. No one will be able to look at me the same way if they see what has happened to me. No’ wi’out sympathy. It would be easier if no one saw it.”

“You don’t mind me looking at your back?” Claire wondered.

Jamie shrugged as best he could in his situation. “I dinna have much of a choice when it comes to ye.” He paused, a thoughtful look on his face. “Besides, ye have a knack of letting me know ye feel sorry for it, wi’out making me feel pitiful about it.”

Claire felt a small smile spread across her face. She reached out and grabbed Jamie’s hand in hers, gripping tightly for a moment. Trying to find a way to reply, she got interrupted by one of the other nurses.

“Randall!” Claire looked up at her name. “Mail for you!”

She jumped up. “Excuse me,” she said to Jamie, patting him on the shoulder as she walked away from his cot. She grabbed the letter and settled on a chair at the edge of the tent, not too terribly far away from Jamie. “Oh, it’s from Frank,” she said, mostly to herself. A feeling of happiness bloomed within her. It had been a while since she’d heard from her husband.

Reading the first two lines of the letter crushed that feeling of happiness. Tears were falling down her face before she could even process why. Her body knew before her brain could catch up. She held her hand over her mouth to stop the audible sobs. Now, more than anything, she wished she hadn’t heard from Frank. Her body curled in on itself as her grief began to take hold.

Arms came to shelter her and she leaned into them without a second thought. She laid her head against Jamie’s shoulder, letting her tears fall freely. He whispered to her in English and in Gaelic, rubbing a hand along her back as he tried to calm her. “Claire, are ye alright?”

It was the first time he’d ever called her by her actual name and not “Sassenach” or “Randall.” She turned and looked at him, his eyes holding hers. “No,” she cried. “No, I’m not.”

“What’s happened?” Jamie asked in a gentle voice. He wasn’t demanding. Instead, he was offering her the chance to talk through her pain.

“It’s Uncle Lamb. He’s died,” she choked out through a sob.

“Ah, lass, I’m so sorry,” he said sincerely. “And he was the one who raised ye?”

Claire took a moment to realize that in the short couple of weeks that Jamie had been there, he’d learned so much about her life. She’d likely learned just as much about his as well. Claire nodded against him. “Yes, yes he was.”

Jamie’s hand came up to cradle her head, allowing it to rest against his shoulder. “I’m sorry. The pain of losing a loved one can be unbearable.”

It was her turn to share her knowledge of his life. “Of course. You’ve lost both your parents,” she recalled. He nodded against her. Suddenly, Claire jolted in Jamie’s arms. “Wait! Jesus, Jamie, you’re not supposed to get up!” she cried, pulling back from him to scold him.

He rolled his eyes at her. “Forget it. Ye needed someone. Might as well be me,” he reasoned. “And my back feels fine.” Jamie wiped a tear from her face before pulling her back into his arms.

Claire reread the letter as Jamie gently rocked her. She couldn’t stop the fresh stream of tears. “You expect that the people not fighting in this damn war are safe, but I guess not,” she remarked, breaking the silence between them.

“Was there another attack?” Jamie asked.

“No,” Claire replied. “No, apparently he had a heart attack. It was very sudden.” She began to sob harder. “And I couldn’t be there for him.”

“Shhh,” Jamie soothed. “I’m sure he knew how much ye cherished him, Sassenach.”

“I just wish I could have been there with him instead of here. I didn’t want to find out from Frank,” she insisted.

“Why did ye find out from Frank? Why did whoever not just contact ye directly?” Jamie wondered.

“Frank is still in London. I suppose he’s easier to get ahold of,” Claire explained. They sat there for a long moment, Jamie still rocking her. Suddenly, he tensed, inhaling sharply. “What just happened?” Claire asked.

Jamie breathed in through his teeth. “Ah, tis nothing.”

Claire started to stand up from his embrace. “Jamie, this didn’t seem like nothing.”

His face contorted in pain as he tried to straighten out his back. “Really, I’m alright.”

She walked around to look at his back and her suspicions were confirmed. He’d opened up one of the wounds. “Like I said, Jamie, you can’t move. Damn it. You’ve opened one up.” She pointed over at his cot. “Go lay down again.”

“Dinna tell me ye’re mad at me.” He laid down on his stomach again.

“I just wish you hadn’t hurt yourself while trying to comfort me,” she reasoned. “Seems silly now that both of us are hurting.”

“Aye, but mine is easily fixed with yer salves and such,” Jamie replied. “Yers canna be treated the same way.”

“What are you talking about? There’s a salve for emotional pain. It’s called alcohol,” she teased.

Jamie turned his head to look back at her. He gave her a disapproving look. “Claire,” he started.

“I’ll be fine,” she said, a few tears betraying her as they fell down her face. “It’s wartime, I should be used to losing people.”

She was starting to clean up his back when he reached back to hold her hand. “Still, if ye ever need to speak of it…”

Claire smiled down at him. “I’ll know who to come to. Thanks, Jamie.”

He returned her smile. “Of course, Sassenach.”

* * *

Jamie walked into the kitchen the next morning, still feeling ashamed from the night before. Ashamed and also grateful for Claire pulling him from the dream. Ian was the only one in the kitchen as he entered. “Morning,” Jamie greeted.

Ian looked up and smiled. “Morning. Sleep well?” He froze, sputtering out an apology.

Jamie waved him off. “After that, yes, I did.” Jamie sighed. “I’m sorry about that again.”

“It wasna the first time and I’m sure it willna be the last,” Ian reminded him. “Dinna fash.”

Jamie shrugged. It was a lot easier to say that than it was to actually do so. He felt guilty for pushing his fears and traumas on everyone else. “So where are Jamie and Claire? Out in the garden already?”

Ian chuckled as he closed the book he was holding. “No, Wee Jamie is in the library. I briefly saw Claire on her way to the bathroom but that was a while ago. I suspect she’s avoiding me.”

Jamie sat down at the table with Ian. “Why would she do that?”

“Well because I asked her something last night that I think made her feel a bit awkward,” Ian informed him. Jamie raised his eyebrows at his brother-in-law. Hundreds of possible questions flew through Jamie’s mind as he waited for Ian to confess what he’d actually asked. Ian huffed out a breath. “I asked her if anything had happened between the two of ye during the war.”

“Ye, what?” Jamie nearly yelled, standing up from the table. “Why would ye do that?”

“Well, because I’ve wondered. Ye’ve spoken so highly of her and ye look at her a certain way. And that’s no’ even discussing the way she acts towards ye. The two of ye just seem incredibly close,” Ian reasoned.

“We are, but it’s no’ because of that!” Jamie cried. “Good God, man.” He walked out of the kitchen to find Claire and apologize for Ian.

He wandered up the stairs, trying to decide how to bring it up with her. Perhaps he should start with thanking her for what she did for him. That would be a more comfortable conversation than acknowledging what Ian had accused them of. The truth was that Jamie didn’t really have a label for what things were between them. He felt reliant on Claire. He felt indebted to Claire. But above all, he felt desperate to be around Claire.

Shaking his head, he tried to clear out any confusion before entering her room. He knocked quickly on the door and walked in. “Hey, Sassenach, I wanted to - oh!” A shriek from Claire halted his steps. She turned away frantically, shielding her front with the shirt she was about to put on.

“Jesus Christ, Jamie. Don’t people usually wait for a response after they knock?” she asked in a heated voice, glancing over her shoulder at him.

He averted his eyes, looking down to the floor. “I’m sorry. I thought ye were just avoiding Ian.” They stood there silently for a long moment. Jamie felt too awkward to move and Claire was clearly waiting for him to leave.

“Are you just going to stand there?” she demanded.

Jamie sputtered a response. “Sorry, I’ll go, I -” He stopped as his eyes caught sight of something on her back. “Claire,” he breathed, inching closer to her. “What is that?”

“What is what?” she asked, looking back at him. She followed his eyeline to the scar on her shoulder. Her head turned back to face away from him, shame spreading in a look. “It’s nothing.”

“Was it him?” Jamie interrogated, unable to acknowledge her cues to drop the subject.

“Jamie,” she pleaded.

“Claire, please tell me,” Jamie urged. He stared at the long, jagged, red line that stretched across her shoulder.

Claire sighed deeply before she spoke. “Yes, it was him. One night he was drinking and I said something in a way he didn’t like and he smashed his bottle against my back. A piece of glass dug in a dragged across my shoulder.” She looked over her shoulder at the scar. “He wouldn’t let me go to the hospital because he thought he might get in trouble so I had to sew it shut after he passed out.” She delicately put her shirt on, making sure Jamie couldn’t see anything. “Happy now?” she demanded as she turned around.

“No,” Jamie replied. “Claire, that’s awful.”

She shook her head, unable to meet his eye. “Well sure, but there’s nothing I can do about it, right? I did the most I could. I ran away from him. Nothing to do for this now.” Her eyes lingered on him. “Besides, it’s nothing like your back.”

Jamie scoffed softly. “That’s fair. But then my back was torn by men who didna ken me. I was just the enemy. It wasna done by someone I trusted. Someone I loved.”

Tears glimmered in Claire’s eyes as she glared at him. “Well then congratulations, Jamie. Good for you that your scars are a trophy of war and mine is because I have an abusive husband. I hope that makes you feel really good about yourself.”

He closed his eyes, realizing his mistake. “Sassenach, I didna -”

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, Young Jamie wanted to show me something out in the garden so I shouldn’t keep him waiting,” Claire said storming past Jamie.

He turned around and watched her walk further and further from him. Voices in his head battled as he watched her leave. One voice urged him to run after her and apologize. The other told him to give her some space. He’d poked at a wound that was too sore and he’d hurt her. So Jamie stayed put and let her get further from him. Once he heard the front door open and shut, he walked downstairs, beating himself up the whole time.

* * *

“See?” Young Jamie asked in an excited voice.

Claire laughed as she looked down at what he presented in his hand. “You’re right, it’s a snail.”

“It’s so cool!” he said, bringing his hand to his eye level so he could watch the small creature.

“They’re something,” Claire responded. “Did you know in France they like to eat snails?”

His eyes widened in horror. “They do?”

“Mhmm.”

The little boy watched the snail in his hand, his brows furrowing. Suddenly he had a determined look on his face. “Okay, then.” He opened his mouth, moving to cup his hand to it and deposit the live snail there.

“No!” Claire cried, pulling his hand back. “They don’t eat them live! They cook them and such.”

“Oh. That makes more sense,” Young Jamie agreed. “I just wanted you to think I could eat them too.”

Claire laughed to herself. “Oh I’m sure you could. And maybe one day you will. I just don’t think you should eat them fresh out of the garden.”

“I thought you’d fancy me a brave lad,” he admitted.

She couldn’t fight the smile on her face as she brought the boy to sit on her lap. “You absolutely are brave, Jamie.”

“Someday I want to be brave like Uncle Jamie.” The boy looked off toward the field. She followed his eyeline and saw Jamie walking. “Mam and Da say he’s verra brave.”

Claire nodded even though the boy wasn’t watching her. “They’re right. He is brave.” She was still hurt by Jamie’s words, but that couldn’t be denied.

“Uncle Jamie said ye’re brave too,” he said, interrupting her thoughts.

“What?” Claire asked.

“He said a bad man hurt ye and that’s why ye’re here. That ye were brave to get away from him and we must keep ye safe,” Young Jamie explained, looking over at Claire.

She felt incredibly touched by all the boy had said. “He was right. I am hiding from someone.”

“Dinna worry, Miss Claire, I’ll be brave and protect ye,” he said with a big smile. Claire couldn’t help but wrap her arms around him in a big hug. They sat that way for a long, peaceful moment.

“I’m going to show Da!” Wee Jamie exclaimed, jumping up from Claire’s lap and running off with the snail toward the house.

Claire laughed as she watched him run away in search of Ian. She couldn’t help it as she turned to look back at Jamie. She was touched by what he’d told his nephew. It softened the way she was feeling a bit. But not entirely. Strengthening her resolve, she went to gather her tools, determined to keep her distance from Jamie for a bit.

There wasn’t anything incorrect about what he’d said that morning. She’d trusted and loved Frank and he’d still treated her like a punching bag. The injury may have been less than Jamie’s, but the lasting impression was likely deeper. Still, the way Jamie couldn’t read her mood and drop it had hurt. He’d seemed determined to make her speak of it, no matter how much she tried to deflect. In all the time she’d spent with him, he’d been able to read her better than that. But when it seemed to matter most, he kept pushing.

Claire shook her head and tried to focus on her work in the garden. Her hurt feelings would fade, she just had to let them. The last person she wanted to be constantly mad at was Jamie. He was her protector now, as she’d been his. Perhaps a day spent in the solitude of the garden and the lands at large would help re-calibrate things.

* * *

Jamie was keeping his distance from Claire. They both spent the day outside but he was constantly aware of her position so he could keep away from her. He was allowing her the space she needed from him and he wanted to maintain that. If he didn’t stay strong, he’d just as quickly run over and beg her forgiveness for his earlier idiocy. The guilt was eating at him. Why could he not have just dropped it? Why could he have not sensed her need for deflection when she brought up his own scars? No, instead he’d poked and he’d prodded at an emotional scab trying to heal. Sighing, Jamie shook his head at himself. There had been times where he’d felt he was truly good at reading Claire. Somehow that had disappeared. He prayed it was only temporary.

The sound of a car on approach pulled him from his thoughts. Turning back to the road, he saw their guest wander toward him. Her blonde hair was free, flying through the wind as she strode in his direction. Jamie looked back toward the house, spotting Claire in the garden only a few yards away.

“Hello, Jamie,” Laoghaire greeted with a smile.

“Laoghaire,” Jamie replied almost curtly. “What brings ye by?”

“Well a few weeks back ye said ye’d be coming by the house and ye havena been by,” she reminded him.

He nodded. “Well, I’ve been busy. I also recall saying I might be by. Yer grannie was bribing me wi’ her baking.”

“Aye, she likes to do that,” she agreed. “So is Jenny back yet?”

“No, she’s still across the sea in North Carolina,” Jamie confirmed. “Was that what brought ye? I’m sure Jenny will let ye know when she returns.”

Laoghaire nodded, a disappointed look crossing her face. She focused on a spot over Jamie’s shoulder and he turned to look at what she saw. Claire. As she stood up, the sun caught her hair, reflecting auburn in her curls. He’d always thought she was beautiful. Even in his delirious state when he first met her, he’d noticed her beauty. As he watched her now, Jamie couldn’t help but stare. Remembering himself, he turned back to see Laoghaire watching Claire with narrowed eyes. “Jamie, who is that woman?”

Jamie looked back and forth between the two women. “That’s Claire.”

“Well who is she?” Laoghaire demanded.

“She’s a friend of mine,” Jamie said, being purposefully vague. Laoghaire didn’t need to know all about who Claire really was. She certainly didn’t need to know Claire’s situation. He noticed the look on Laoghaire’s face. She wasn’t about to let this topic drop. Selfishly, Jamie called for Claire. He’d been so determined to give her space, but she was the only one who could likely set Laoghaire back on her way home.

* * *

Claire was tending to the garden, always aware when Jamie was nearby. She glanced up quickly to see him working near the closest fence. For no apparent reason, she couldn’t stop looking up at him every so often. But this time when she looked up, she spotted Jamie talking to some blonde girl. Claire was far enough away, but she could see the way the girl leaned eagerly toward him. She seemed young. Claire shook her head, trying not to worry herself with it. Focusing back on the plants, she desperately tried to find an explanation for the possessive way she was feeling.

Perhaps it was their current situation. Jamie had encouraged Ian to let Claire stay. Ian had easily agreed, but it had been Jamie’s idea. If Jamie was taking up with this blonde girl, would he care if Claire was safely tucked away at Lallybroch? Would he keep trying to protect her, no matter the cost? Claire was afraid of what that answer might be. Perhaps that’s why she was wary of the sight of Jamie chatting with a girl who was clearly besotted with him.

Digging ferociously into the ground, she tried to ignore Jamie again. She’d only been mildly successful throughout the afternoon. As she stood up to move toward the other side of the garden, she resisted the urge to look back at them. She’d just knelt back down when she swore she heard her name being called. Looking up, Jamie was staring at her, motioning for her to join them. With a sigh, she dropped her tools and walked the few yards over to them.

“Aye, so this is Claire,” Jamie introduced, gesturing for her to stand with him. “Claire, this is Laoghaire. She’s an old family friend.”

Laoghaire’s smile was tense as she appraised Claire. “Hello there,” Claire greeted. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

She gaped at Claire, turning back to Jamie. “She’s a sassenach?” she asked, her voice dripping in disdain.

“Aye, so?” Jamie asked, looking over at Claire.

“How did ye ever become friends wi’ a sassenach?” Laoghaire demanded. The way the gaelic term spewed from her lips made Claire wonder how Jamie had always made it seem endearing.

“We met in the war,” Jamie explained simply.

The woman’s eyes fell back on Claire. “How did ye meet during the war?”

“I was a nurse,” Claire replied. “I met Jamie when…” She cut off. There was no way for her to know if this friend knew of Jamie’s capture or if Claire would be telling her.

“When I was injured,” Jamie finished with a small smile for Claire.

“Ye were a nurse when Jamie was hurt?” she asked. Claire nodded, wary of the other woman. A bright smile crossed her face as she brought Claire into a tight hug. “Thank ye so much!” she cried.

Claire looked over at Jamie who seemed to be as bewildered as she was. She lightly patted the girl on the back. “Uh, it was no problem,” she replied, unsure of the right thing to say. Laoghaire released her and stared at her in awe. “It was my job,” Claire continued lamely.

Jamie must have felt as awkward as Claire by the tense way he was holding himself. A small voice carried from the house. “Uncle Jamie!” All three of the adults turned to look for the small boy.

A devious grin crossed Jamie’s face. “Ah, if ye’ll excuse me, I must see what the lad needs.”

Claire moved to go with him but Laoghaire grabbed her hand. Fighting a sigh, Claire turned back to look at her. “I seriously canna thank ye enough for what ye did for Jamie.”

Claire shrugged. “It was really nothing. Same thing I did for many men in the war.” Mentally, she corrected herself. What she did for Jamie went past what she did for any other patient she’d had. But this random girl didn’t need to know that.

“So why are you here at Lallybroch?”

It was the first time she’d had to address it with someone other than Jamie and Ian. There was no way she could tell this girl the truth. Claire only hoped that she’d get a chance to discuss it with Ian and Jamie before Laoghaire did. “Well, I was in Scotland for a holiday and I decided to look Jamie up. He and Ian were kind enough to allow me to stay for a bit. I’ve been trying to make up for Jenny’s absence as much as I can.”

Many different expressions crossed Laoghaire’s face before she smiled tightly. “That’s nice of them.”

Claire cleared her throat. “So Jamie said you are a family friend?”

“Well I suppose that’s one way of putting it,” she said with a smirk.

“I don’t understand the joke,” Claire asked.

Laoghaire leaned closer to Claire like she was about to share a secret. “Jamie and I are to be marrit,” she confessed with a large smile.

Claire plastered on a smile and nodded. How could Jamie have not told her something as big as that? In all the time they’d spent together, he’d never once mentioned the girl. Betrayal was probably too strong a word, but it was how she felt. “Well that’s just lovely,” she said halfheartedly. “Look, it’s about time I should go in and start on dinner. So I’ll talk to you later.”

“Nice to meet ye, Claire,” Laoghaire said in farewell.

“And you,” Clare replied, turning to walk back toward the house.

In the time since Jamie left her camp, Claire had often found herself thinking about him. What had happened to him? Had he survived? Had he gotten to go home? Did he ever get to meet the nephew he’d excitedly talked about? Was he as affected by their time together as she was? Did he miss their conversations the way she did?

Since coming to Lallybroch, she thought some of her questions had been answered. The close bond they’d shared as he healed had quickly returned as she sought shelter within the walls of his home. Or at least she thought it had. In all the weeks she’d been there, he’d never once told her he was getting married. She suddenly felt like she didn’t know him. When he was her patient and she was breaking rules to allow him time to heal, she felt she knew him completely. But perhaps she was wrong.

As she walked back to the house, Claire began to feel miserable. How could she have misread everything about their friendship? She’d relied heavily on him, but had it been the same way for him? It seemed not.

Jamie would tease her by telling her she had a glass face. When she walked in the house, she prayed her glass face wasn’t giving away her internal distress. One look from Jamie told her that her face had betrayed her.

“Sassenach, are ye alright?” he asked, still keeping his distance.

Claire decided to just come right out with it. “How could you not tell me?”

“Tell ye what?”

“About Laoghaire.” Claire sighed. “I mean we’ve talked about a lot of very important things but never once have you mentioned her.”

Jamie looked confused. “Because she’s no’ important.”

Claire gaped at him. “So your future wife isn’t important?”

It was Jamie’s turn to be shocked. “Excuse me, but where did ye get a notion like that?”

“From her,” Claire explained. “Laoghaire said you were to be married. Is that...not true?”

Jamie stared at her. “No, it’s no’ true! Christ, I’ve never - I would -” He sighed. “I canna imagine why Laogharie Mackenzie believes we’re getting marrit.” Ian walked in, whistling and immediately turned around at Jamie’s last sentence. “Ian! Stop!” Jamie called. Ian froze, not turning back to them. “Why does she think it?”

Ian rotated very slowly to face them. “I canna say why the lass would have such a crazy idea.” Jamie gave him a pointed look and Ian broke with a sigh. “Fine, it all happened when we were deployed. Jenny was worrit to death about both of us and Laoghaire and Jenny became close as Laoghaire would come over to sit wi’ Jenny. Well then Jenny and I got marrit and she had the bairn and then ye got captured. It all happened in the month or more we didna hear from ye. Jenny began to panic and nothing Laoghaire or I would say could calm her down. One day she was crying over how her brother was deid and ye’d never get to meet yer nephew and she’d never get to see ye again. And then, and I canna say why, she turned to Laoghaire and said “I was going to convince him to marry ye.” And then she kept prattling on.”

Claire and Jamie stared at Ian as he told his story, jaws dropping as it progressed. “What?” Jamie asked.

“Well so then we got a letter from ye while ye were healing telling us that ye were wounded but ye were alive and Jenny calmed right down,” Ian continued. “But I suppose she never called off that arranged marriage she accidentally set up. Perhaps she didna even ken that Laoghaire latched onto the idea as she did. I canna believe that the lass still believes ye’re to be marrit. The two of ye hardly ever speak.”

Jamie was about to reply when Claire giggled. Jamie and Ian both looked at her, though Ian looked more amused than Jamie. “Claire, it’s no’ funny.”

“It’s a little funny,” Claire defended. “Come on, she thinks she’s going to marry you and you don’t even talk to her.” She laughed harder as her meeting with the girl came back. “Dear God, that’s probably why she hugged me so tightly when she found out I was your nurse.” Claire honestly snorted as she laughed. It was the hardest she’d laughed in a long time. Even if it was wrong, it felt great. “I’m sorry, but that’s so sad.”

“Yes, sad. That’s the right word, Claire,” Ian agreed. “There’s certainly not another word for it.” It was obvious he was trying to protect Jenny even as she wasn’t there. “Anyway, dinner?”

“Yes, I’ll go start it,” Claire offered, starting for the kitchen.

“Actually, Ian, ye could handle it tonight. Could ye no’?” Jamie asked.

Ian narrowed his eyes at Jamie in confusion before he smiled and nodded. “Of course. I’ll have the lad help me.”

Claire turned back to Jamie, equally confused. They’d stopped trying to convince Claire not to cook. Since she’d arrived, she’d made most of the meals they all ate. “It’s nothing against yer cooking, I jus’ wanted a moment to talk to ye.” Claire nodded, stepping back toward him. “I wanted to apologize. For earlier, I mean.” Claire started to speak but he continued. “Please, let me say my piece first.”

She nodded for him. “I was wrong on every part of it. Ye were right, I should have waited for yer response before I just walked in. And I should have left right when I saw ye werena fully dressed. But more than that, I should have followed your cues and just dropped it. I am sorry, truly. Ye made it clear enough that ye didna want to speak of it.I dinna ken what I was trying to accomplish by continuing to talk about it. I was just horrified by the thought of it that I couldna let it go. But that’s no excuse for my behavior.”

Claire offered him a sad smile. “I never planned or thought I’d show anyone the physical damage done. It’s one thing to know that he hurt me but it’s another to see it. I didn’t want people to think of me as broken or as less because Frank hurt me.”

“I ken exactly what ye mean, Sassenach,” Jamie reminded her.

She nodded. “I know you do.”

“But to be clear, that wasna how I felt at all. I was angry with Frank for being able to treat ye in such a way,” Jamie explained. “But I never thought of ye as some defenseless creature. Ye patched up yer own wound when ye couldna do otherwise. Ye’re far from weak, Claire.”

“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice betraying her. “I’m sorry I mentioned your back.”

“Nah, I ken why ye did so. Dinna be sorry.” Claire nodded slightly, looking up at him. He still had a nervous look about him. “So are we good?”

Claire breathed out a laugh. “We were never really not good.” Jamie breathed a sigh of relief.

She opened her mouth to ask him something she knew she shouldn’t. Closing it, she turned toward the kitchen. “What is it?”

“Nothing. It’s not something I should ask.”

“Sassenach, ye can ask me anything,” Jamie insisted. “What is it?”

“Well you mentioned your back,” Claire began. “And I - I’ve just often wondered how it healed. Since you left, I mean.”

“Oh,” Jamie replied. “It’s fine. Doesna hurt anymore.”

She nodded, still feeling a bit timid. Taking a deep breath, she tried to draw enough courage. “Could - could I see it?”

“Ye want to see my back?” Jamie asked. She hated how well he controlled his face. There was no telling the thoughts running through his mind. “Sure,” he breathed. Jamie looked around the entryway. Ian and Young Jamie were both in the kitchen.

He started to pull up his shirt when Claire steered him to face the kitchen. Jamie looked back at her in confusion. “Well then even if one of them walks out of the kitchen, they still won’t see it,” she reasoned.

Jamie pulled his shirt back down and turned to look at her. “Thank ye, Sassenach. Truly.”

Claire smiled before he turned back around to face the hall. Slowly, he pulled his shirt up to reveal the massive web of scars that laid across his back. Claire instantly flashed back to the day he was brought into the camp, his back a mess of blood and torn tissue. She reached out a hand gently and touched the thickest scar. Jamie startled at her touch. “Sorry,” she said quickly.

“I was just surprised. Ye’re fine.”

She stood there for a long moment, taking in the way he’d healed. It was amazing to see the way his body had changed and improved since she’d last seen the damage done to him. She felt happy, knowing she’d gotten him the extra time to heal. Perhaps it had really made all the difference.

She patted his arm, letting him know he could put his shirt back on. “Thank you,” she said, walking around to face him. “I know that was an odd request.”

Jamie shrugged. “No’ that odd. Ye were likely the last one to see it anyway.”

“Really?” Claire asked. Jamie made an uncomfortable face. “They’ll look at you differently,” she recalled. “I remember.”

“Aye. I havena wanted to risk it,” Jamie added.

“I understand that,” Claire said, looking down at the floor.

“I didna,” he replied. She looked up in confusion. “I didna see ye any differently. I was mad at what happened to ye, but I do no’ see ye as any less than I’ve always seen ye, Claire. Just as ye always did wi’ me.”

Claire surprised Jamie, and herself, by throwing her arms around him and wrapping him in a hug. After a moment, he mimicked the gesture and held her to him. Standing there with him, Claire wondered how Jamie Fraser always helped her find such peace.

Next chapter

#Outlander #outlander fanfic #outlander fanfiction #my writing #in the eye of a hurricane

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superaskthebatimocsandfriends · 5 years ago

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Day 10 of Goretober (Unofficial)

Sammy was passed out in his office when he was suddenly awoken by a strange smell coming from outside of the door. Getting up he wondered if someone had burned something again like last time causing everyone to evacuate. Because of them having to let the smoke clear out before they could get back to work which despite being annoying it had been fun. Since all of them got to talk for a bit or play a game of tag football well everyone had he sat on the side with Norman and Joey. Still, in thought about this he grabbed the door handle jumping when he felt how hot it was shaking his hand “ow, the hell?” he asked confused as he looked for something to use to help open the door before he finally found something and opened it. As he did, so he wasn’t expecting what he saw next as the brightness of flames came into his vision causing him to stare in shock.

He looked confused for a moment wondering if this is what the smell was before shaking himself from whatever he was thinking as he quickly tried to find a way out. Only to see all possible ways were blocked realizing he had two choices wait and possibly suffer a slow and painful death. Or run through the flames and suffer burns along with a possible painful death debating a bit he finally saw a small opening. And not wanting to think on it anymore ran to where it was as fast as he could only to trip and fall getting up quickly soon after. Sammy ran making his way to the stairs running up them ignoring the burning pain growing on his body. Making it to the top of the stairs he came to see Tom who was calling for him he went to call out of the other's name only to stop. His eyes went wide before he turns to run back down not hearing Tom call after him as he ran back to his office. Going in he grabbed a framed photo off his desk before he ran his way back out once again going through the flames and up the stairs. Tom nowhere in the site since someone had probably pulled him out due to the flames getting too hot to handle anymore.

Outside said man protested saying something about having to go back for Sammy while Wally and Norman held him back. Both saying it was too dangerous and that the other probably got out already but the man kept struggling “no he’s still in there I have to go back” he said to them. Only to stop when he and the others saw Sammy walk out holding something stumbling along as he made it out before collapsing on the ground. Finally getting out of both men’s grip he ran over to the other male along with Henry and Joey both checking on him. Stopping when he saw the condition the male was in his body burnt badly from the fire as the sound of fire trucks in the distance were heard. Getting closer before finally making it as they got to work putting out the flames and another along with their partner went to help Sammy.

No one said a word once was all said and done they all just went to the hospital and sat in the waiting room. Waiting for a doctor to tell them Sammy's condition hoping the male would be okay but how could he be after how he looked. Coming out most of his body burned in the flames looking like something from a horror movie when he came walking out at them like that. What scared them the most was that he seemed to be mouthing something over and over to them when he did so. The other thing had been the fact that the male was missing his one eye like the thing had been burned out of his own skull before he’d passed out from either pain or possible blood loss.

After some time of waiting a doctor came out to tell them the news a slight grim look on his face “are you the family of a Mr. Lawrence?” he asked them. Joey stood up “no, I’m his boss..how is he?” he asked the man not beating around the bush on this one wanting a straight answer. The doctor shook his head slightly “not good, he’s alive but at least half of his body his burned along with blood loss from the missing eye. And not to mention going into shock he may be here for something” he tells the man. He went on adding a few more details saying the male had some inhalation and would be on a breathing mask for a time. Along with any time he needed to recuperate from the burns and the surgery he’d need the doctor said he’d pull through. But would need time off work to heal up along with going to see someone to talk to about this saying it would help him. With that, the doctor left having to care for other patients but told them if they wanted to they could go see the male.

All of them did so deciding the male would want some company while others said they’d come in for a bit before going home. Allison and Susie went in first along with with Wally and Norman the four of them visiting the male before leaving to go home. The next to visit was Lacie, Bertrum, Grand, and Shawn before they too went home for the day. Finally, Joey, Norman, Henry, and Tom came in to see him Norman taking a seat near the window while Henry stood off to the side with Joey. And Tom sat next to Sammy’s bed putting a hand on his forehead gently smiling at him a bit “hey little lark, the doc told us everything” he tells him gently. His jaw clenched a bit “but don’t worry your gonna be okay, doc said they’re gonna fix you up and make you right as rain” he kept gently petting the males bandage head over and over. All of them looking down at the male thinking the same thing “god, he looks smaller than normal and so frail” a none spoken agreement with the four of them.

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vicstoriies · 6 years ago

Photo

2009.

"What brings you here today?" The question feels loaded and she doesn't exactly know how to respond. She didn't want to come here, but it was David who suggested that it was a good idea for her to talk out her past experiences so she can learn how to move on from them. It was difficult for her to get used to life without DC there, hovering over her just waiting for her to fuck up by his standards. She was also have a difficult time adjusting to becoming less of the shell she'd turned into. His incarceration was probably the best thing to ever happen to her and even with his mistreatment of her as his wife, she hates to feel that way about him. After all, she was married to him for nearly twenty years of her life... and even with all the bullshit and the pain, she did love him. That was her problem. Victoria shifts uncomfortably in her seat before finally responding to the question, "I'll be honest with you, I didn't want to come here and I wasn't going to. It was my co-worker who convinced me that it was a good idea." She watches as Dr. Larkin scribbles in her notepad and feels herself becoming even more uncomfortable. It's then that the room gets warmer, like the temperature was raised about ten degrees too high. She pulls the sweater she's wearing by the collar, away from her neck, in an attempt to cool herself down. She's nervous and it shows in how fidgety she is. Dr. Larkin looks up from her notebook with the look of neutrality that David explained to her when he suggested therapy. Apparently, it was effective to speak to someone who had no emotional ties to either parties. More often than not, Victoria was left to fend for herself over the yeas. It was a long, lonely ride but somehow, she'd made it. This was just another step in the right direction, David would say. "Why do you think that is?" "B-because of..." She struggles because she can't help the bitter taste of betrayal that forms on her tongue. She feels that by telling her story, any part of her story, she's betraying him. Hurting him in some way and convincing herself that she's no better than he is by badmouthing him to some stranger. It's not gossip though, it's truth. Her truth, for once. "━because of my husband. Well, soon-to-be ex-husband." "And what is your ex-husband's name?" "Declan, but he goes by DC." Dr. Larkin writes it down. "And why would you be here because of Declan?" "He was..." she struggles once more, this time breaking the minimal eye contact she already had with the doctor to drop her gaze down to her feet. "It's okay, this is a safe place. You're safe here. Nothing leaves this office. What did he do?" "He was... abusive." She looked back up at her, "... very abusive." "Abusive, how?" "Seriously? How are they usually abusive?" "Abuse could be physical... emotional... mental..." "I guess I'll take option D for 'all of the above'..." "Mrs. Deschaine━" She corrects her, "Victoria. Mrs. Deschaine is my mother-in-law." Dr. Larkin continues with a nod, "Victoria, why don't you tell me about the first time you started noticing his negative behavior?" "Like, the first time he hit me?" It was something she longs to forget, but her memory has always been very good. She remembers everything, especially the bad, details and all. not even a few knocks in the head could make her forget the moment when she realized she'd made a mistake. "Perhaps, instead, tell me what he was like when you first met? We'll start from the beginning." There's a soft chuckle that escapes her when the memory came flooding back to the forefront of her mind, "Oh, when we first met... he was a dream." Th room around them seems to fade, bringing her back to many years prior when she was still in high school. When all of her hopes and dreams for her future might be like were open to endless opportunities, before things got really bad. I was pretty popular in high school because I was a cheerleader, she begins the story, but I didn't thrive on the popularity like other people did. My close group of friends weren't involved in any of the sports at school but were creative, imaginative people. I dated a football player for two years before Declan, but I broke up with him when I found out that he was cheating on me with a girl on the cheerleading squad because I wouldn't put out for him. She laughs, thinking about what she'd ended up with instead. Everyone knew of DC and his family. The Deschaines are like Limbo royalty. He wasn't involved in any athletics or school activities either, but he was popular with everybody anyway. Uncommon for a group of delinquents who hung around wearing leather and riding motorcycles, isn't it? She shrugs, But Declan, he was charming. He had a charisma about him that made him irresistible to those around him, especially the girls. Me? I wasn't too interested... my dad was the Chief of Police and he warned me against that group of people daily. I was a good girl. I listened, until I didn't. I remember it was a graduation party that DC was also invited to, although he dropped out of school a year prior. Rumor was that it was so he could prospect for the local motorcycle club, DC confirmed that after we got together Anyway, I was actually kind of bummed about graduation because I knew that it meant change. Friends would lose touch and college was right around the corner. I was still unsure of what I wanted to do with my life. I spent most of the party in the corner of the room, feeling sorry for myself, with a drink in my hand that I barely touched. Everyone else was having a good time and celebrating their success. But I remember the first time our eyes locked on each other's. Every feeling I felt is still so vivid. He was so handsome and he had a smile that made eighteen year old me so weak in the knees, that I had to brace myself against the wall behind me so that I wouldn't fall on my ass. It was the first time I understood why all the girls fell over themselves just to impress him. I was the first one to break the eye contact, but I know DC took his eyes off of me. I was probably as red as that shirt your wearing, she nodded towards the shirt Dr. Larkin had on, I was so embarrassed. But he walked over to me, confident as ever. I remember my... he would be my future brother-in-law, Marc, trailing behind him until DC told him to stay back. I swear, my hands were shaking so badly, I'm so sure he noticed. "What're you doin' here all by yourself?" He asked with the biggest grin stretched across his face, like talking to me was equivalent to winning the lottery. He closed the space between us some, but I noticed he kept enough distance not to make me uncomfortable. "I'm not alone. Just not really in the partying mood." He looks down at the drink in my hand and I feel pathetic for not having taken more than two sips from it. He doesn't seem to care though and he looks back into my eyes and I swear, I could get lost in his. "How 'bout you dance with me? Maybe that'll help you get in tha' partyin' mood?" "Oh, I'm not a dancer." I lied because I actually wasn't bad at it, I was just too nervous to accept the offer. I knew I'd embarrass myself. All DC does is laugh, while he takes the cup from my hand and sets it down on a nearby table. He takes my hand and leads me towards the dance floor. "You're a cheerleader, that's close." I didn't expect him to even know who I was, let alone that I was a cheerleader. He must've noticed the look of surprise contorted into my features. "Don't think I don't know who you are, Victoria Anderson. I've been watchin' you for awhile." His fingers intertwine with mine and he pulls me close. I remember the song being a fast one because I made a comment about it, but he insisted on a slow dance anyway. It was more intimate, he said, and he wanted to be close to me. I could hear whistling and shouting from his friends somewhere off in the distance when his forehead rested against mine and he let go of my hand briefly, probably to flip them off. "You cut your hair," He points out. "I remember it bein' longer." He traces a finger down my spine and stopped at the small of my back. "'bout this long, wasn't it?" I didn't realize until then just how much he paid attention to me. I was so taken by him. My own sisters barely noticed the haircut and they saw me everyday. "Um, yeah, that's right. My mom told me that it was getting too long and said it was time for a trim... and well, the lady at the salon kind of got scissor-happy." "I liked it that long." I suddenly felt silly for listening to my other, but it would grow back. I'd only spoken to him for a few minutes by then, but I already felt like I was falling in love with him. I don't remember it being that way with my ex-boyfriend. We were just kind of together because that's what made sense. But DC? DC made me feel like I was looking at my soulmate. We actually ended up spending the rest of the night together and eventually we ended up leaving the party. It was the first time I'd ever driven on a motorcycle. He took me to his favorite spot, we talked for hours, I missed my curfew for the first time ever. I felt like I'd known him forever, he was so captivating to me. The last thing he said to me that night before he kissed my cheek was, "'m gonna marry you someday," And all I could do was laugh, but inside? I was a wreck. It felt like a fairy tale, like I was watching myself in a movie. All of it felt so surreal. He felt too good to be true. Reality set back in and she watched as Dr. Larking continued scribbling everything down. She wonders briefly what her notes say. "... turns out, he was too good to be true." she swallows hard. "Funny thing is, looking back now, I feel like even then... he gave me no choice but to fall in love with him. Like from the very moment he set his sights on me, I was his. That probably sounds stupid." Dr. Larkin shook her head, "Not at all, Victoria. This was a good start. Our session is almost up, but I would like to continue seeing you.How does next week, same day and time sound?" Victoria nods, "Sure."

#｢❀ ♡ * ｣ DRABBLE » victoria&declan.#｢❀ ♡ * ｣ DRABBLE » victoria&antoinette.#｢❀ ♡ * ｣ DRABBLE » therapy sessions.

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aly-the-writer · 6 years ago

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The Apprentice - Part 1

| Parts 1-4 Available on Ao3 | My Ao3

Fandom: Dragon Age

Characters: Lark Trevelyan, Damion Amell

Warnings: Major Character Death, last chapter. Not shown. Otherwise entirely SFW.

Description: Newly made Enchanter Damion Amell of the Ostwick Circle takes on a young fellow pyromancer, newly arrived to the Circle, as his first apprentice.An apprentice whose actions would one day come to shape Thedas itself.

The First Enchanter sighed, as she set the documents on the table. The only reason her counterpart wouldn’t push for Tranquility with this one was because the Trevelyan name held weight. A lot of it. The girl’s uncle was the Knight-Commander’s cousin or something of the like. The family was wealthy, influential, and it was well known that Bann Trevelyan continued to dote on even his ‘wayward’ children.

Not that being a mage was what made one wayward but young Lark Trevelyan had difficulties with her power. Unique abilities and presentations of magic were not nearly as uncommon as the Chantry wished to believe. Most mages leaned heavily towards some category or other.

It was just as well that the girl was not under the Madwoman’s watch either. Young pyromancers often had difficulties with control, ones that would have earned them the brand rather than patience.

“Enchanter Amell,” she greeted as the young man entered her office.

Damion Amell was a Kirkwaller who had been moved to Ostwick due to family politics as a child. Which was just as well as he was the Circle’s other resident pyromancer. She’d apprenticed the youth while writing frequently to her old friend Vivienne to complain of his airheaded nature and how few of her robes were left without singes.

He was brilliant though, and had well earned his newly appointed title of Enchanter despite his youth.

From what she had heard of the other Amell siblings it was much the same. The youngest was on the difficult path of becoming a spirit healer. Twin brothers in the Antivan Circle had both made names for themselves as illusionists – performing before the Antivan court despite their youth and lack of Harrowing. Gawain and Tristan would not be powerful mages but as jesters and performers they already had amassed more political pull than any of the others combined. The last of the brothers, Aristide, had found himself in Montsimmard and seemed uninterested in pursuing the heights that his siblings were reaching, though she knew of him from Viv’s mentions that the boy had a far sharper tongue than anyone with so little rattling around in their brain deserved.

Damion Amell was recently returned from Tevinter. (A return that had surprised her, she’d suspected when he approved his request to study with their brethren at the Minrathous Circle for two years that he would refuse to return at the end of it.) With his return the mage had taken the qualifications as an Enchanter and kept out of trouble far better than he had during his time as an apprentice.

“First Enchanter,” he greeted cheerfully, blue eyes flicking about the room, before resting on her. “Lydia mentioned that you wanted to see me.”

“I’m assigning you an apprentice – Lark Trevelyan.”

“The fire-starter, right?” he asked, tilting his head to the side, before he went to take a seat, eyes more thoughtful than anything, “You test her for the other primal elements yet?”

“I have – there were negative reactions towards ice and water magic. The strongest reactions are with fire and spirit magic.”

“Sounds like a proper death mage,” he chuckled. “Sure you don’t want to send her to the Mortalitasi? Nevarra could use some fresh blood, too many Pentaghast’s.”

“Her family wishes her to remain close,” she frowned. “And I do not think the Trevelyan’s would approve of lessons in necromancy, Damion.”

“No, I suppose they wouldn’t,” he sighed. “A shame, I have no talent for it. I think it’d be rather interesting to see. She my neighbor in the matchbox?”

“I wish you wouldn’t call the fire proofed rooms that,” she sighed heavily. “I thought it prudent, and her family has donated a significant sum to insure the girl is afforded more privacy. She is the scion of a noble house.”

“’Scion’,” he murmured, amused by the use of the term. “I’m guessing if I don’t take over Lydia-by-the-Book is going to be assigned?”

“Yes.”

“Then the firebug’s my apprentice,” he grinned cheerfully. “Pyromancer’s ought to stick together.”

A short discussion later about what was expected of him over tea served by one of the Tranquil – Marcus, they’d come to the Circle the same year together, he’d always made fart jokes but was terrified of the Fade, but back then he’d been Markie, not until the brand had he started insisting he be called by Marcus instead – and not even an hour later he stood in front of the door between him and the girl whose future he could very well destroy if he screwed this up.

Faux confidence perfected in the fires of a Tevinter Circle as an outsider or not the idea of having an apprentice – his first – apprentice was nerve wracking.

He hesitated longer, ignoring the curious glance from beneath the helmet of the Templar on guard there.

Letting out the deep breath he knocked on the door, “Lark? I’m coming in,” he called gently before pushing the door open.

The door was made to look like wood on the outside but it was heavier than it looked, metal enchanted against fire plated the inside. Stone walls and floors entirely undecorated made the rest of the cell.

He’d grown up in one of these rooms too after all, he’d known what to expect.

The red haired girl sitting on the straw pallet was in better condition than he remembered himself being when all those years ago the woman who would become First Enchanter had entered his cell. Then again he’d come from Kirkwall, dragged away from his mother’s desperate, bruising grip in the streets of High Town by the Gallows’ Templars and shipped away to save the family from more embarrassment.

Rumor had it though that Lark Trevelyan had the good fortune that the Templar who carried her into the Circle had been her own brother. (He hoped that that did not come to stand as a betrayal in the girl’s memory, family was important, even if he barely remembered his own siblings.)

Her red hair was a tangle of curls in need of a brush, falling into her face, and her eyes were red-rimmed and nose runny from crying. Her clothes were a simple, loose night-gown like thing, meant to be easily replaced if it caught flame. He remembered hating how itchy those garments were.

He wondered if his baby sister – Sol – had grown up to look anything like this girl, though Sol was a few years older than this girl wasn’t she? Just a babe when he’d been taken away.

“Y-you shouldn’t be in here. I’ll hurt you,” she tried to draw herself up straight, to meet his gaze with imperious violet eyes that a noble daughter should have but he could see the tremble. “I make fire’s start.”

“So do I,” he smiled gently, lifting his hand up he let it ignite into flames, careful not to catch the cuff of his jacket. Tevinter’s dramatic fashion had rather caught his fancy while he was in the North, but he’d only been able to bring back so much luggage.

Those purple eyes widened in surprise, “Oh.”

“My name’s Damion,” he smiled a little, “I’m a pyromancer – like you are. I’m going to help you learn how to use your magic, okay?” The fire extinguished as he offered her a friendly smile.

“I’m Lark Trevelyan. It’s nice to meet you, uh…Messere.”

The Apprentice is complete and can be read in its entirety on Ao3.

#long post #Dragon Age: Inquisition #OC: Lark Trevelyan #OC: Damion Amell #there is a cut and my eternal apologies if the cut does not work

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hippopotatomus · 4 years ago

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It’s party time! Square dancing is introduced for the intrepid, the inexperienced, and the deranged, and nobody gets hurt. Sylvia’s kids discover the kitchen and the joys of Jello. Finally, they load into Newt and take the refurbished amphibious vehicle for a test run.

Now that there is kind of a plot, you might need to backtrack a bit. Here’s a link if you decide to start reading at the beginning. There’s a helpful chart below to give you a chance to sort out the rodents. Recommended snack: Jello, especially those fancy molded kinds with random foodstuffs trapped inside. Soundtrack: Old Time Square Dance Music. Switch to Truckin‘ (Grateful Dead) once they start driving around.

~~~~~~~~~~

Everybody piles into the amphibious vehicle, otherwise known as “Newt,” and take him for an offroad test drive around the principality and into the River Dobby.

He ran into Bond first and dispatched the little budgie to fetch the hens and have them herd Sylvia’s kids over to the makeshift ballroom in time for the first dance. Then he wandered toward the glow in the workshop windows where the sulky millwright and his crew of naked mole rats worked away on the zeppelin.

“We have plenty of time to finish this. You guys ate, right? And then came back down to work again? Take the night off, listen to some music, have some dessert. I won’t even bug you about dancing. Newt’s ready to drive, and that’s good enough for tomorrow. Come on and take a break.”

Rodney scowled at Dobby but nodded toward his workers and they put down their tools and scampered toward the rowdy ballroom. Dobby stood on tiptoes and tried to peer into the windows of the amphibious vehicle and frowned. He opened the door and looked up at the driver’s seat. Rodney cleared his throat, stepped forward and pulled out a little step from the undercarriage. Dobby smiled and stepped up into Newt, and sat in the driver’s seat. Rodney shut the door and Dobby looked behind him into the Salon. The carpets, couches, curtains, and chandeliers were exactly like his sketches. He turned back to Rodney, who now seemed to be standing way down below him, and clutched the steering wheel to stave off a little dizzy spell.

“I saw that,” said Rodney. “If you’re woozy about this height, well, what are you going to do when the airship lifts off the ground?”

“I’m fine. It just surprised me for a minute. Annabelle is going to be driving, or piloting, or whatever. I plan to ride in the back. I’m going to lay on a couch and let Conchita feed me grapes.”

“What do you think Sylvia will say about that?”

“Oh, Conchita can feed her grapes, too!”

Rodney rolled his eyes. “Okay, come on down from there. Let’s go to the dance. Are the desserts served yet?”

“Of course not, but there’s still some fruit and a couple willow branches left.”

They trudged back up the hill to the ballroom. Three small squirrels screamed past them, a trio of hens huffing and puffing not far behind. The goose was approaching the microphone as they entered the fray.

“That tune was Who Hit Nelly with a Stovepipe. Now, who’s ready to dance? We’re going to need four couples to a square. Looks like we can easily come up with four squares tonight. Can you please give it a bit of thought and choose couples who aren’t ten times as big as you are? That’s okay for some of the circle dances, but it’s kinda dangerous for this one, okay? I’m talking to you, down there. Yes, you. Can you please switch out with that couple in the square next to you? Yeah, that’s going to be better. Okay, how are we doing, now? Need one more couple in this square up front. Prince D! What are you doing? Where’s your partner, get up here!”

Dobby looked around for Sylvia and spotted her in a square near the back, partnered up with Kipling. She shrugged and smiled at him from across the room. Dobby looked around for a partner, grabbed the surprised millwright and pulled him forward into the front square.

“All right,” said the goose. “Rodney’s gonna dance tonight! I’m Silly Goose, and I’m gonna be calling the dances tonight, so pay attention! Couple one is closest to me, couple two is on their right, and on around to four. Make a note of it. Each couple has a raven and a lark: raven on the right, lark on the left.”

There was a lot of talking in the squares, each group determining the couple numbers. Then the raven lark controversy, with a lot of switching around due to some bird preferences, and even some couples changing when someone refused to be a raven. These shenanigans persisted until the caller tapped the mic.

“Quiet up, y’all! We’re going to start with an allemande left with your corner. Ignore your partner for the moment, reach out with your left paw toward the nearest fool, shake paws and turn right around, return to face your partner. Okay, so far so good. Now we’re going to learn a right and left grand, and I sure darned hope at least a few of you know it already.”

She reached down for a sip of water before she continued. The crowd was attentive but unruly, polite but pushy, and they finally made it through the last instruction before they forgot the first one.

“Okay, the band’s gonna play Dogs in the Dishes for us. Everybody ready?

With your corner left allemande, Back to your partner for a right left grand, Hand over hand around that ring, Meet your own for a big fat swing, Swing your partner round and round, Any old way but upside down, Couple one, rip and snort, Down the center and cut em off short, Raven go gee and the lark go haw, Now all back home where you belong!”

Silly Goose called half a dozen dances and after each dance, everybody chose new partners. After the first dance ended, Dobby made a beeline for Sylvia, nearly knocking over the millwright. He was happy to be abandoned until Bianca cornered him and he ended up being ensnared for every dance because the ladies were so excited to see him joining the fun. Sylvia seemed to be enjoying herself, and Dobby only stepped on her toes twice, a new personal best for a night of dancing. Dessert was served, the band kept playing until the final tune, The Snouts and Ears of America.

“Did they get dessert?”

Sylvia snorted and shifted Tix back up onto her shoulder. Dobby had Cu and Sali in a backpack his decorator had made up from leftover curtain fabric.

“I guess you didn’t hear. I don’t know if I want to tell you but the rabbits are going to tell you anyway. The hens were supposed to bring them up to the ballroom, but they were so tuckered out that these little monsters got ahead of them, took a wrong turn and ended up in the kitchen. Fortunately, they had never seen petits fours before and didn’t know they were food. They went straight for the Jello molds. They’d never seen those, either, and decided they were perfect for jumping. Mind you, it’s all rumors, I wasn’t there, and you shouldn’t be mad at your hens, either. Mission impossible, right?”

#gallery-0-4 { margin: auto; } #gallery-0-4 .gallery-item { float: left; margin-top: 10px; text-align: center; width: 33%; } #gallery-0-4 img { border: 2px solid #cfcfcf; } #gallery-0-4 .gallery-caption { margin-left: 0; } /* see gallery_shortcode() in wp-includes/media.php */

Dobby laughed. “I heard. I’m glad we were able to give you a break. Jello is easy to fix, magic, you know. It would have been trickier to create new cakes, but Jello? That was easy. The rabbits weren’t angry, just a bit excited.”

“But my kids shouldn’t be getting away with being naughty like that. It doesn’t help when we get home, you know.”

“I guess you didn’t hear all of it. The hens got there right away, wouldn’t let your kids have any dessert until everybody else had eaten. I hear it nearly killed them. They thought there would be nothing left.”

Sylvia laughed. “Well let’s cram them into bed and call it a day!”

~~~~~~~~~~

After a disaster free brunch, Dobby led Sylvia and her three musketeers (complete with hats) down to the workshop. Rodney was attaching nautical bumpers to Newt’s sides as the Peahen in charge of decorating selected the colors.

“Are you kids ready for a ride? Hop on and check it out. I need to load on the snacks and then we can go.”

“Snacks?” said Sylvia. “We just finished brunch!”

“You never know how long you’ll be away. Best to be prepared.”

Sylvia narrowed her eyes, but perked up when she climbed up into the shiny amphibious vehicle. The little squirrels bounded past her, each one claiming a sumptuous sofa. A rabbit followed with trays, boxes, and bags of snacks to be stowed in the small kitchenette. Dobby walked around to the passenger entrance where Rodney stood ready to load him in.

“I want Sylvia to drive Newt, but I’m coming along to take notes or make adjustments,” said Rodney, as he placed his shoulder in position to nudge our Prince up into the vehicle. “I’ll add a small step on this side, too.”

“Oof,” and Dobby was in. He worked his way back, noting that each tiny squirrel had commandeered a plush couch, leaving him only a selection of smaller club chairs. Sylvia was already in the driver’s seat, and she looked back to check on her smaller charges.

“What are you guys doing? You’ve taken all the best seats so The Prince is stuck with the little chairs! One of you had better give up your seat, pronto!”

“It’s fine,” said Dobby. “I’m already buckled in back here. We’re just driving around, it’s not a test flight, or anything.”

The rabbit grabbed some empty boxes and hopped out the passenger side. Rodney stepped up into the vehicle’s salon, checked everyone’s seatbelts, strapped himself into the co-pilot’s seat, and they were off.

“It’s a standard gearshift, maybe a bit touchy at the clutch—“ said Rodney.

Sylvia shot him a withering glance, and drove Newt smoothly up the slope to the main driveway.

“How about you navigate. Can you talk me through a test course with a variety of terrain? Some slopes, some bumps, some deep water?”

“Yes, ma’am,” said Rodney. “Turn left here, and we’ll go off-road in a jiffy. We can take the scenic route past the final resting place of the walking palace, and go down into the river. Come up at the fields, cut across on a farm road, and head back. There’s a small road just beyond a gazebo on the right. Here it is, turn right here.”

Sylvia expertly turned off the paved road onto a glorified deer trail through the brush. Branches scratched the sides of the vehicle and randomly poked the open windows. Sylvia looked at Rodney, who was busy peering ahead, oblivious to the forest trying to claw its way into the plush salon.

“The exterior has a fused silicon coating,” he said. “Nothing can scratch, puncture, or gouge this thing. I promise.”

Sylvia alternately bumped and galloped the responsive Newt over the uneven path, slowing to cross over small logs and large boulders. She turned to grin at Rodney.

“This is fun! I’m going to be sad when it’s off the ground, dangling from the airship. I’m glad Annabelle is taking over when the motocross driving becomes boring piloting. Do you know when that test flight is? Any idea?”

“Friday afternoon. We’re going to wait until you get here. You are coming Friday, aren’t you?”

“That’s the plan. The party is Saturday, right? Are you going to that? I don’t quite understand the concept, but I think we are all going by zeppelin.” She glanced back at the prince, who was snoozing in an awkward position in his club chair. “But we haven’t been invited to the actual party. Does he expect us to hang out in the parking lot until the party is over?”

“Nobody wants to go to the party, not even the Prince. He wants to make a dramatic entrance, eat some cake, and leave. He wants us all there, waiting as emergency back-up, and an excuse to leave early. It should be fun, and he’s planned a big bash next Sunday for all of us. The rabbits have already submitted menus three times, and he keeps adding courses. There will be a band and dancing, of course, but he’s also asked for crafts tables and games. Oops! We passed the turn for the river. Can you back up? We need to go back to that clump of macadamia trees. Did you see the path on the right? That goes down to the river past the rusting heap that was the walking palace. Someday I’ll haul it out of there and strip it for parts.”

Newt trundled down the path and as the broken no-longer-walking palace came into view, there was a flurry of furry activity in the back. When Sylvia turned around, all three little squirrels were standing on one couch, leaning out the open window and chattering about the rusted magnificence of the ruined palace.

“All three of you! Sit back down, seat belts on! I don’t want to see you out of your seats again! You understand?”

The wailing started, waking the snoozing prince.

“The windows are too high! We can’t see out,” said Sali. She turned to the Prince. “Can you make us some really really really tall couches?”

The Prince considered this request. “No,” he said. “Sit down, buckle up. Right now. Then I will consider some hanging chairs, maybe those woven bamboo ones. They will have to be on tracks so you can move from one side to the other without unbuckling. I’ll have to think it through, and then, of course I will have to run it past my decorator. Will you need headphone jacks so you can listen to music? Bookshelves? Coat hooks, hat racks, built-in storage, cup holders?”

Cu gave him a sidelong glance. “That’s ridiculous.”

Dobby gave him a wide-eyed look. “What? You don’t want the cup holders?”

“Yes, we do!” said Tix. “But I think magazine racks and a tray table would be better than bookshelves. I don’t think we’ll have time to read a whole book, but I am going to bring my comic books if we have a magazine rack. They’re not going to fly out the window are they?”

Dobby considered this seriously. “I think it will work if it is an enclosed box with a lid. What do you think? You have some good ideas. Is there anything else Newt needs? That’s the purpose of a test drive: to work out the bugs, fine tune the accoutrements, spiff it up a bit. Think about it and let me know.”

Cu stared at him. “We need snacks.”

Dobby stared back. “Not until we are on the river. It’s too bumpy here.”

“Is everything okay back there?” Sylvia took her eyes off the road long enough to catch the stare down.

“Everything is just dandy back here. When we get into the river, it’s kind of boring. Why don’t you hand over the controls to Rodney at that point, join us back here for snacks?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

Soon they were driving into the river . . .

Soon, they were driving down the soft bank of the river. The wheels spun a bit, trying to get purchase, a rooster tail of sand following their dubious progress. Rodney took a pencil from behind his ear and made a note on his clipboard.

“I’ll weld on a winch onto the back.”

“Not a sky hook?”

Rodney looked at her to see if she was serious. She was smiling, but right at that moment, her eyes opened wide and her mouth formed an O. Newt slid sideways and there was a gurgling sound as they plunged into the river. Rodney made another note on his clipboard.

“All-weather tires”

Newt bobbed about for a few seconds and then leveled out, spinning slowly to face downstream. They drifted slowly with the current.

To be continued . . .

~~~~~~~~~~

The stunning Cast of Characters:

~~~~~~~~~~

This story needs a lot more illustrations! Select an event from this story (how about jello?), draw a picture of it, and send me an email. I’ll reply so that you can attach a digital copy of your masterpiece to it. I’ll add it to the story!

Or, if you’d rather help with the glossary, send me the list of words you had to look up (or should have looked up, but didn’t!). Someday, I will start putting together the glossary. Do know what an amphibian is?

[contact-form] We've got more square dancing, more dessert, and (finally) a test drive in Newt, the passenger car part of the zeppelin. It's party time! Square dancing is introduced for the intrepid, the inexperienced, and the deranged, and nobody gets hurt.

#capybara #Dobby #fiction #Jello #Newt #Prince Dobalob #square dance #Sylvia #zeppelin

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timetogoawaynow · 7 years ago

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Melz meets Alexei SL with @MelzWithABite and @AWanderlustCur

Alexei meets Melz

Melz: *I was really starting to wonder why I'd come back. Okay, that wasn't completely true. I'd missed Brie terribly and felt horrible for leaving her for so long. She barely let me out of her sight these days and had taken to sleeping in my bed every night. For such a little girl, she had been through enough in her short life. I only hope I didn't do too much additional damage. So I let her stay attached to my hip as much as possible. I knew the break for Lark was welcome. At least I hoped it was. I wouldn't have to be a genius to pick up on how unhappy Lark was with me either. It had been completely selfish of me to be gone for as long as I was, but then, it hadn't been the human half’s decision at all. The guilt was still mine, even as now, my wolf chuffed derisively in my mind. Yet another problem I still had to deal with. I was terrified of repressing her, yet terrified of shifting again. Being constantly at war with myself was exhausting.

The fact that I'd come back because of the fanged threat was another unknown frustration, patrols yielding no additional evidence or information so that we were at a dead end there. And as if I didn't have enough to deal with, Lyric's update consisted of a bombshell wrapped up in a time bomb! Now, that wasn't exactly fair. I didn't begrudge him his happiness, but finding out we'd had squatting wolves in our territory for however long that I'd known nothing about didn't sit well, let alone another one that was apparently now staying with her. Plus the fact that he was engaged after a week to an Alpha’s daughter no less?! I was all for standing up to her father, honestly, because fuck that heavy handed alpha wolf bullshit, but talk about a blind side. Needless to say, my coping mechanisms at this point were basically nonexistent, but I was trying. Once I got a read on this second? Or was the the third? New wolf in my territory, I'd be able to try and make heads or tails of the situation. One thing at a time. Glancing at my phone, I rolled my eyes, exhaling a sigh. Of course he was late.*

Alexei: -When I’d gotten Austen’s text I’d been summoned by the Alpha of the area, I started to shove it off. I’d tried to avoid Austen and her little boyfriend as much as possible, staying at home while she was at work, out while she was home. We hadn’t gotten off on the best foot, and I was too damn tired of explaining my shit to people, least of all her. The more I thought about it, the more I was pissed at her dad for what he’d done. I was a fucking part of that pack, and on top of that, his family, and he just dumped me out like trash. Every day made it worse. It didn’t help I stayed mostly intoxicated, but it was better than being high. Heroine was expensive and I was almost broke, and add onto that it was illegal, and it was a step in the right direction. I bummed a ride to the address Austen gave me, not willing to stoop and ask for a ride, I looked down the long road and began to hoof it. I’d never dealt with a female alpha, and I didn’t know what to expect. I wasn’t warm and fuzzy with those types of personalities anyways, more a buck the rules kinda guy, sometimes just because I was bored, but I had to be good today. If she kicked me out of her territory, it could affect Austen and Brent, and I wasn’t that much of an ass. Brent had the gym and Austen her shop, and her boyfriend. I had no one. So it was just her and me and I planned on keeping it that way. I reached the barn door, pushing it open and stepping in, looking around. I smelled only her a while back, so it was really just a formality to check around for others, there were none, but her. Standing in the middle. I kept my distance, ‘bout ten feet, stuffing my hands in my jeans and staring for a moment, then bowing my head slightly- Alpha. Sorry I’m late. Like to make an entrance.

Melz: *Ooooof. Course. I mean, I wasn't expecting an ugly wolf. They really didn't exist. Besides, his cousin was gorgeous. But...damn. did he have to be...damn. Although...eyes narrowing slightly as the good looking loner entered the old been, my alpha senses tingling. Yeah, Alexei James was something more that he was trying really hard not to be, even if I couldn't quite put my finger on it. Some way back memory buried deep was trying to come to life, but I didn't know. Shaking my head before I looked like a comatose idiot, I kept my features blank, giving him a slow, assessing top to bottom once over.* Do you work at a distillery, or are you just doing your part to keep them in business? *Arching a brow, I gave a sniff before starting to make a slow circled walk around him. I hated this posturing bullshit, as anyone that knew me well knew, but I didn't know him. From the sound of things, his home pack didn't give much stock to females, so I didn't want him to think he could waltz in here and run roughshod over me. His uncle was already on my shit list for not only allowing two of his heirs to establish businesses in my territory without as much as a word to me, but because of his disgusting treatment of his own daughter. Yeah, that was one alpha I never wanted to meet for fear that I wouldn't care about containing my wolf in his presence, but I digress. Coming around to face Alexei once more, I met his eyes, held them for a long moment as I let the alpha power fill the air. It was a calculated risk to let my wolf this close to the surface, my eyes turning amber, but it was necessary.* I'm going to need you to be real honest with me about your reason for being on my territory. And what your plan is while you're here, if I decide to let you stay. *I knew Austen’s version of his “why", but I wanted the whole store from him and to see if it meshed with what she'd said.*

Alexei: -When she did her alpha thing, the one that made my wolf cower inside, I realized male alpha, female alpha, it didn’t matter. It was nothing to fuck with. That kind of dive bombed my first plan, which was charm her, but it looked like Austen had already dimed me. Princess must have been all ready to impress the new alpha that she just gave me up. Figured. Like father like daughter. Fine. I never needed anyone to stick up for me. I got myself in this shit, I’d get myself out.- How nice of you to notice my contribution to the fine establishments in your territory. I do my best to be an ass—et. And as the brat may have already told you, my pack put me in time out. So, I have nowhere else to go. Technically, I’m not supposed to have contact with any pack member, which means my family wants me to live under a fucking bridge for a year so I’ll learn not to be a fuckup. -I chuffed, looking down and shaking my head.- Thought I’d get a job, I’m pretty good with my hands, woodwork, maintenance shit. Make some money, get me a place so I don’t have to have the princess on my ass, and wait. -Boy, if I were me, I’d really want me in my territory. What happened to making a good impression? I laughed a bit, reaching up to rub the back of my neck- Look, if you want me to move on, I will. I'm not saying my pack was wrong about me. You asked for honesty, so that’s about as much as I can give you. Truth is… -and I’d been thinking this for days, and it just rubbed me the wrong way, sending me into the bottom of another bottle- I don’t think they’re gonna let me back in. So. It’s whatever. -I hated that alpha shit, that thing that made you spill your guts and not hide shit.- I don’t need a fucking therapist or your pitty, so if you’d ease up I’d really like to shut the fuck up now.

Melz: *I hadn't used my “Alphaness" like this, probably ever. My pack was my family by choice. We'd been through it all since before I was alpha. We'd each taken turns losing our shit, yet been there when we came back or needed a good slap across the face. We'd dealt with imposters before and come out stronger. Whatever had been set in motion, we'd handle it together. So exertion any sort of compulsion hadn't been thought until it had. Worth it though. His side of the story filled in a lot of the blanks Austen’s had left out. At least the picture I was painting in my head was...interesting. Filing certain details away for later, I snorted a laugh as he finished talking, reeling in whatever it was I was doing.* No, you definitely don’t need my pity. You've got plenty of your own. But when your party's over, the pack owns a garage if you're looking for something to do with those hands besides lift a bottle. If you can change an oil, I can give you a few shifts a week. Last thing I need is some drunk ass were going wolfy and attacking a tourist. At least your cousins have kept a low profile. I have a feeling that's not really your style. If you can pull your own weight, I'll give you a shot. *Standing legs shoulder length apart, I let an authoritative flair pulse the air before taking a step back.* Does that sound like something your poor abused ego can handle?

Alexei: Me? Pity myself? -I laughed out loud, shaking my head. It was only then that I took a long moment to really look at her, head to toe in a way she’d know I was looking. She was fucking gorgeous, in that take no shit way, that I am woman hear me roar thing that I loved. In other circumstances, I’d be all over it, but I’d never cower, and it seemed like that might put us at an impass- Woman, you are delusional. All that alpha shit’s gone to your head. You asked for the facts. I told them to you. -probably not the smartest thing to say, but dammit, I didn’t appreciate being called a whiner.- Thanks for the offer of a job, pretty big of you, but I don’t know a thing about cars, and I didn’t come here for charity. Maybe I like lifting a bottle. Maybe… -I smirked, tilting my head- it's exactly what I want to do. Seeing as I’m doing it, that’s probably accurate. So thanks for the offer, but I’m going to have to say no thanks. -I rocked back on my heels a bit, feeling her influence, but as soon as I got my bearings, which was much later than I had hoped, I gritted my teeth a moment and shrugged- Don’t sweat your tourists. I’m not a pup. Only thing they may be in danger of is being given incredible sex by yours truly. Don’t worry about my ego, either. It’s far from abused and going strong. -I wasn’t stupid enough to duck out of an alpha’s presence without being dismissed, but I sure didn’t have to take her ridicule. Insult on injury. I could just as easily move on, and would rather do so, than have her talk down to me like I was nothing.- So, like I said, if you want me to move on, just say the word and I’m fine. Austen and her boytoy will kiss your ass and call you queen. All one big, happy family. But if not, I’d like to get back to the bar I was enjoying and finish my evening. Cute little redhead gave me her number and I don’t want to miss the end of her shift.

Melz: *Oh. Hell no. I'd met a lot of dumb fucks in my day, but this one was at the top of the list. The more insults and disrespect he touted, the angrier I got. My wolf didn't care if he was baiting me in some type of fucked up bid to get himself killed. She was pissed enough about the lax way I let my own pack function, no way she was going to take it from some punk loner wolf who'd been expelled from their home pack already. Fuck no. Before the last word left his lips, I was on him. Sweeping his legs out from under him, I slammed him to the ground and came down on top of him. My growl rumbled through the room as my teeth sharpened, claws extended as I wrapped my partially shifted hand around his throat, deadly points resting just over his jugular. Leaning into his face, my eyes blazing with fury, my voice the gravelly bark of my wolf as I spoke.* The hard way it is. I don't know who the fuck you think you are, but this tough guy loner shit ain't going to get you nothing but killed. Now, it seems like that might be what you're looking for, but fuck you. I'm not that merciful. My pack pulls their fucking weight. You ain't my pack, but you're on my land. I already plan on having words with your uncle, but at least your cousins have contributed to the area with their businesses. I'll be damned if I'm going to start letting your uncle send his trash here too. *Chest heaving, spittle on my lips as my fangs rested there, I held his gaze for a long, long moment. He wasn't getting another shot at this. I would not be a doormat to some broken asshole. I had enough shit to deal with.* You have no idea who you're fucking with, Alexei James and you know nothing about my pack. No one kisses anyone ass around here. That pack hierarchy bullshit is for the birds. But we do respect the positions and work as a unit. I'm not offering you to join, so don't get your hopes up. I was willing to let you lie low for your year if you could follow two rules. Work. And don't be an asshole. Looks like you can't do either, so you've got to go. *I didn't need to justify myself or explain anything to him, but I wasn't going to take his shit. At. All. Pressing in my pin point nails just enough to break the skin, my nostrils flared when I scented his blood before climbing back to my feet. Back to him, I showed him exactly how little of a threat I considered him.* You have an hour to get the fuck out of my territory. I'd wish you luck, but I don't like lying, so fuck you, seems sufficient. *Walking deeper into the barn, I didn't check to see if he'd gone. If he didn't, I'd kill him.*

Alexei: -I’d feared for my life a few times, a few deals gone wrong, a few sunken escapades, but nothing like this. Nothing like her wolf right on me, in my face, and my life in her hands. She should have killed me. Part of me probably wanted her to. But the longer I lay on that barn floor, bleeding, shaking now, I realized a few things.

I had to make it right. My wolf demanded it, and something in the pit of my stomach just wouldn’t let me be this person anymore. Shame rolled over me, and I rolled over onto my knees, my neck bared, my voice low- I’m sorry doesn’t even cover my disrespect. -I swallowed hard, trying to hold back the tears. What kind of fucking man cries? So I sucked it up, kept my eyes to the ground, and continued- You’re right. About me. I had no right to act the way I did. Even offering my life wouldn’t do anything, because you have every right to take it. -I thought of my family, of my mother mostly, and my brothers, how devastated they’d be. How long had it been since I’d thought of anyone but myself? The tears came anyways, but I refused to acknowledge them, my wolf cowering before this alpha, as I begged for my life- Please. Give me another chance. I’ll work wherever you want me to. I’ll do whatever to say. I...don’t have anywhere else to go. I’m at your mercy, and I don’t deserve shit, but I’m asking. Please. -And that was all I could do. I had no other option. If she didn’t kill me, I’d be lucky. But I had to try. I hated what I’d become, and maybe, if I tried, maybe if I cared about my life a bit more, I could make all of this right.-

Melz: *If I was any other Alpha, I'd kill him right then and there. The groveling was nice, but didn't quite cut it. But I hated how black and white every other pack I'd known operated. Black or white. In or out. Live or die. With the paths Zoey, Jessy, Bray, Lyric and I had taken, we should all be dead or disowned. Had been over the years. If it weren't for that one chance we'd each gotten when we needed it most...I didn't owe this wolf anything. And I'd probably regret it, but I wasn't ready to take a life over it. My wolf would, of course, disagree, but I'd taken enough of them.

Glancing back over my shoulder, I raised a brow, not hating the sight of him on his knees begging. I stood for a long time in silence, making him sweat, suffer. Yeah, I was going to spare his life, but that didn't mean I wasn't going to make him pay for his mouth. Let him cower, wonder if these were the last seconds of his life.* Be at the garage at eight am. If you're late. You're gone. Bitch about the job? Finito. Slack off? Pack your bags. Basically if you o anything that pisses me off, take one step out of line, I will end you. *Turning to face him fully once more, I flashed my still elongated teeth, the growl in my voice returning.* Please, try me and think that I'm fucking around. I really hope that you do. Because underestimating me will be the last thing you do. *Long strides closed the distance between us as I shouldered past him and exited the barn. I hated the structure tucked at the back corner of my property. It was only for pack use, and we hardly used it. Without a backward glance, I made my way across the lawn toward the house. That was checked off for now. On to the next disaster on the list.*

Alexei: -I stayed on that barn floor, my arms covering my head, face to the ground for a long time. I didn’t know how long, really. Seems I found myself on my face more often than not these days. When it didn’t feel so shitty, I stood, wiping my face on my shirt and walking out to the road, pushing my thumb out and waited. A few people didn’t bother, but soon, a guy did, and I hopped in the back of the truck after giving him the address to the garage, and I was on my way.

I sleep outside the place, leaned up against the building, so there was no chance of being late. I was hungover as fuck, probably going through some withdrawals, but I stood when the man came to open the place and introduced myself. Respectfully. Weeks passed, and I toed the line so tight. Melz came in periodically, and we didn’t speak, but I was alright with that. Head down, work. Lyric didn’t speak to me either, and that was fine too. I wasn’t there for him. I was shit with cars, but I picked it up fast, gophering, too, and cleaning up the place after everyone left. Some days we’re on the clock. Some days I just came in because if I didn’t, I was gonna be at a bar, and I couldn’t do that right now. There was a small room up above the shop with a shower and stuff, and I stayed there. Nobody said anything, not Melz or Bray or Lyric, and I closed up, but I kept it free from my stuff just incase it became an issue I could just...find another place. Most nights, I fought my demons alone, going to bed early, picking up a few books from this used bookstore beside the place the guys liked to get lunch. Tonight, I pushed the broom across the room and sang a little Willie Nelson.- Maybe I...didn’t love you. Quite as often as I could have. -The acoustics in the garage were great, and singing always seemed to calm me down.- Maybe I...didn’t treat you. Quite as good as I should have. If I made you feel second best, girl I’m sorry I was blind. You were always on my miiiiiiind. You were always on my mind. -Another night in the books. Only a few more hours and I could sleep, making that a few more hours I had to come up with a good excuse to stay put.-

Melz: *I hadn't had high expectations at all for this Alexei guy, I had expected him to turn tail and run and never look back. Needless to say, I was shocked to get a text bright and early the next morning from Bray, asking what he was supposed to do with him. My “bitch work" reply seemed to be all he needed to know, which was fine by me. I had no qualms about him doing all the grunt work at the garage. When he showed up for a few consecutive days, proving that he was somewhat reliable I put him on the schedule. When he showed up for more time than those listed, I pinned a note to the board telling him that I was only paying him for the times he was scheduled. He wanted to keep showing up anyway, fine by me. It rankled that he'd started using the spare room above the garage without permission, but when I went up to remove his shit because of it, there was nothing to throw out the window. Sneaky jerk. Even so, I could tell over the next week that he was actually trying to keep his head down and his nose clean. I'd wait and see for how long.

Finishing up the billing on the 67 Chevy Lyric had just finished the restoration of, my brow furrowed as I heard a voice I never had join to tune pumping from the speakers. I thought I was the only one left. Shutting down my laptop and closing the safe, I let my curiosity take me to the back bay, where I propped my shoulder against the wall and listened. He had a really nice voice. It was a shame I couldn't say anything else positive about him.* Hey, Willie, you about done? I'm ready to lock up. Planning on squatting upstairs again tonight?

Alexei: -I stopped singing immediately, standing up straight, and the embarrassment in my chest was real. I just hoped it didn’t travel to my face. I looked over at my bag by the door, then back at the alpha, and shook my head- No ma’am. I’m almost done. -I held her stare for a moment, then went back to sweeping, doing it much quicker and making a pile before putting it in the dustpan and dumping it in the trash. I put the broom back where it went, walked over and grabbed my pack, and walked to the door. I’d gotten used to being invisible there, so it was odd when she spoke to me, and I didn’t want to take carte blanc and start a full fledged conversation if that wasn’t her intention. I knew a few shelters, but it was iffy if they had a bed this late. Guess I’d go and find out.- Have a good night. -I waved, pushing both arms in the pack and hoisting it on my back, pushing the door open carefully. I guessed I’d have to find a permanent place, seeing as she obviously minded that I stayed there. I could, in a month or so. That wasn’t long. Brent would let me in to the gym to shower, I think, and...it wouldn’t be too bad. I stopped outside the door as it closed behind me, putting the hood on my hoodie up and stuffing my hands in my pockets. Walking was good for my health-

Melz: *Brows raised as I watched him finish, I was surprised that none of his bravado from out first meeting came out. He didn't seem able to shut himself up before, now he might as well have been a mute. Could it be that sobriety made him meek? Standing back with the door held opened when he grabbed his back that looked like it held everything he owned, my brows now furrowed in confusion. I almost didn't ask. It was none of my business what.he did or where he stayed, except that it was if he was going to keep sneaking around, staying in the upstairs room like no one noticed. Calling after him as he began to cross the lot, I didn't chase him. He'd hear me.* Hey, I thought you were staying at your cousin's place? Why do you need to use the upstairs anyway?

Alexei: -I turned back, shocked a bit that she’d care where I stayed. My impression when I left the barn was that she was done with me, and even at work day in and day out, she didn’t seem to give me the time of day.- I can’t. She can throw a fit all she wants about being independent, but she’s pack, and I can’t associate. -I winced a bit, pointing at my healing black eye- Brent reminded me. -I waited, not sure what to do now, hanging onto the straps of my backpack- Do you need anything else? -part of me wanted to just ask to use the room, but it seemed I still had too much pride and a lot to learn. Maybe a few months sleeping outside would be...a character lesson, maybe that’s what I should call all this. A lesson in character.-

Melz: *Goddamn, this guy was something else. Too proud to ask for anything even when he had literally nothing else? Grinding my teeth, my mind warred with itself. If anyone knew broken and beaten and how it either caused lashing out or shutting down it was me. Hell, I should be the poster girl for building up brick walls encased in steel and topped with barbed wire. My own pride didn't want me to offer something he didn't ask for, but if I wanted to be different from the way other Alphas operated, I'd have to act like it. If I didn't help, it didn't seem like anyone would. He wasn't my pack, but he was connected to someone I now considered under my protection. Damn my penchant for adopting strays…

Blowing out a long sigh, I dropped my arms to my sides and unbleached my jaw.* Hey, asshole, if the pavement get too...pavementy, the room is yours. I pretty much was considering your unpaid shifts as covering your rent. Just don't go hooking up the ultra deluxe cable packet and we'll be straight. Or sleep on the street and prove absolutely nothing to no one but the fact that you're an idiot. It really won't phase me. *Hitting the key fob, I headed towards my Mercedes, cursing him out in my mind as I went.*

Alexei: -I stood still, just watching her, wondering where the punchline was. No one, no wolf, did anything for anyone like me. I’d realized that in the last few days. You were either working to benefit the pack or you were out. At the shop, I was working to benefit the pack, just not mine. Instead of a place, I was working for my life, my right to exist here. And that was fine. But this was...she owed me nothing. Before she got in her car, I spoke carefully- Thank you. -And I turned back toward the shop, heading inside to lock up. My hands were shaking, but I wouldn’t even acknowledge it. I simply climbed the stairs and put my stuff down, looking around. I took out my few pair of clothes I’d bought, setting them on the bed. I put “Stranger” by Albert Camus on the nightstand. I took a family photo and set it there too. Then I sat heavily on the bed and put my head in my hands. I couldn’t do this all the time. I didn’t want to be in my head. I wasn’t this person. I didn’t want to think anymore.

Shedding my jacket, I left it on the bed, with my shoes, and walked outside, jogging to the edge of the woods. I stripped, hid my clothes, and the shift had never felt so good. My wolf took over, and I immediately threw my head back and howled. Here, the loss of my pack was deepest. Here, I couldn’t hide. But I could run. So I did.-

Melz: *Shaking my head as he turned and walked back to the garage, I was surprised he even let me see that he was taking me up on the offer. Blowing out yet another exasperated breath, I climbed behind the wheel of my car, put the top down, and was off. Merging onto the highway, hair blowing in the wind, the howl of the wolf that carried on the breeze had my breath hitching. Eyes closing briefly, my heart ached for the pain that filled it. What was I going to do with this one?*

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perfectlyrose · 7 years ago

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help i need somebody (not just anybody) -- part 2/5

Summary: Rose is settling into her life in a new city very nicely. She has a job she loves, great new friends, and a flat a few doors down from a certain cute neighbor. When her mum keeps nagging her about kickstarting her love life, Rose spins a tale that involves dating her neighbor, John, who is no more than a good friend. It’s all an innocent white lie until Jackie calls and tells Rose that she’s coming to visit and can’t wait to meet her boyfriend.Rose has to face the music and come clean to John and see if he will pretend to be her boyfriend for just a few days while her mother is in town and hope that their friendship is still intact at the end of it all.

Pairing: Ten/Rose

Rating: All Ages // Word Count: 1806

Note: For the absolutely wonderful and amazing @lastbluetardis as a belated birthday present <3 love you ashley! i hope you enjoy this little fake dating romp!

AO3 // TSP // FF // tumblr

Rose took a deep breath. “I need your help.”

“Come in, it looks like you’re about to keel over,” John said, using his grip on her shoulder to urge her forward. He shepherded her towards his sofa with a hand on the small of her back.

Rose felt about two inches tall. Here he was being the supportive friend he always was and she was about to drop a bomb that had the potential to destroy their friendship.

“Do want some water? Tea?”

“John, I’m fine, I promise.”

He snorted. “You don’t look fine.”

“Oi!”

He continued like he didn’t hear her interruption. “And fine people don’t normally show up at my door pale as a sheet and asking for help. So, tea?”

Rose flopped back, sinking into the sofa. “Fine. Tea. We’re both going to need it by the end of this conversation.”

“That sounds encouraging,” John said as he headed towards the kitchen.

Rose just groaned in response.

John came back with the tea, Rose’s already fixed just the way she liked it.

“Thanks, John,” she said before taking a sip and then setting it on the coffee table.

“Of course. Now what’s going on and how can I help?”

“You’re probably going to hate me for this,” she warned.

“Impossible.”

“You say that now…”

“And I mean it. What’s going on?”

“So my mum called me a few minutes ago and she’s on her way up here for a surprise visit,” Rose explained.

“And that necessitates my help how?”

Rose bit her lip and then tried on a sheepish smile. “Because she sorta thinks the two of us are dating.”

John’s face froze for a split second, mouth opening and closing a few times before he managed to actually emit sound. “Ah.”

“Yeah.”

“And she got that idea from where?” His voice had hiked up a few pitches.

“Well, she kept nagging me about my lack of a love life and threatening to find someone to set me up with and one of the nights you were coming over for dinner I just told her that I was seeing you so she’d stop pestering me. I didn’t think anyone would ever know! I thought she’d warn me ahead of time before planning a visit so I could tell her we broke up or something.”

“But now she’s coming to visit and is expecting to meet me.”

Rose nodded. “Got it in one.”

“And we can’t break up now, I take it.”

“Well, we could, but you’d probably get slapped by my mother.”

John winced. “Okay, not the best plan then. What exactly is the best plan?”

“I was hoping you’d agree to be my fake boyfriend for a few days while my mum’s here.”

“Doesn’t sound too hard. I’m game,” John said.

“Really? Just like that, you’re in?”

“Of course. Come on, Rose Tyler, you should know by now that I almost never say no to you.” He grinned brightly at her. “Besides, why I would turn down an opportunity to potentially embarrass you in front of your mother?”

“Oh, I’m going to regret this,” Rose sighed before smiling back at him.

“Probably,” he agreed. His worry about her had given away to the manic energy he always had when faced with a new problem to work through. “So, what have our alternate selves been up to and when did we start dating?”

Rose made a face. “About three and a half months ago.”

“You don’t even remember our anniversary exactly, I’m offended, Rose. Hurt and offended,” John declared dramatically.

Rose pushed at his shoulder. “Wanker. It was a casual thing at first so neither of us can agree what the first date was or when we were technically together.”

“Casual?” John sounded like he was choking. “Did you really tell your mother that you were using me for sex instead of dating me?”

“No!” Rose knew her cheeks had to be bright red. “I meant that we kinda went on a few dates without either of us officially calling them dates.”

“Ah, okay. Makes sense. That makes it easier since our stories don’t have to match.”

“Glad that my lies are convenient in this instance,” Rose said. She picked up her rapidly cooling tea from the coffee table and took a sip. “I cannot believe that this is happening.”

“Oh come on, Rose. It’ll be a lark! I just charm your mum and maybe she won’t ask a million questions.”

Rose took one look at John’s earnest expression and burst into laughter, almost spilling her tea in the process.

“You really have no clue what you’ve agreed to. Jackie is going to give you the third degree and there’s not much I can do to stop her.”

“Then you better start teaching me what I need to know to pass as your boyfriend,” John said. “You said she’ll be here in a few hours?”

Rose nodded. “And she asked if you would be coming with me to the train station to pick her up.”

He rubbed his hands together. “Then let’s get started.”

Rose launched into a brief summary of what she had told Jackie over the last few months with the disclaimer that it was basically their normal life but with kissing. When she was done, both of their mugs of tea were empty and John looked a little dazed.

“Sorry again,” Rose said. Her eyes tracked her finger tracing the rim of the empty mug in her lap. “I know that this is a lot to remember and a lot for me to ask of you. You can still back out if you want.”

He was being such a good sport about all of this and Rose felt terrible that he even had to put up with any of it.

“The remembering shouldn’t be a problem. Like you said, it pretty much mirrors our friendship just with more kissing and all of that’s easy to remember,” John said. “And like I said before, I don’t mind helping you out. I’m off work for the next few days because another department is running an experiment that they need our lab for. Really, you’re saving me from getting extremely bored and doing something our landlord would disapprove of.”

Rose rolled her eyes. “He still hasn’t forgiven you for setting off the smoke detectors last month.”

“Better than the time he evacuated the building because someone thought they smelled gas when it was just my experiment,” John mused.

“I assume this was before I moved in? Because I haven’t heard about this one.”

“About a month before you moved in,” John grinned with all his manic glory. “He was livid.”

“Oh, I bet!”

He reached over and plucked her mug out of her lap before unfolding himself and heading towards the kitchen to deposit the dirty dishes in the sink. “So, for your mum’s visit, how affectionate is she going to expect us to be?”

He wasn’t looking at her when he asked the question so Rose couldn’t gauge his expression, couldn’t guess how he was really feeling about this whole situation.

“Very. I’m a tactile person,” Rose said apologetically.

“Noticed that, actually,” he said. He still hadn’t turned around from where he was rinsing out the mugs but he sounded cheerful. “I’m the same so it shouldn’t be too difficult.”

Rose pulled her phone out to check the time and cursed under her breath. “John, I’ve got to go clean up my flat. My mum’s not staying with me but she’s going to want to come see it first thing, despite the multiple video call tours I’ve given her.”

“Need any help?” he asked, dish towel still in hand as he turned to face her.

“You’re already helping plenty,” Rose said. “I can handle my flat.”

“Let me walk you back then.”

Rose laughed. “It’s just down the hall, you idiot.”

“I’m practicing being a good boyfriend,” he said with an outrageous wink.

“FIne, whatever.” Nothing could mask the big smile growing on her face.

He followed her out to the hallway and the grabbed her hand, lacing their fingers together and swinging their joined hands a bit as they walked. Rose valiantly tried to ignore the warmth the contact was sending shooting through her veins.

They were at her door far too soon but he didn’t let go of her hand.

“Practice was probably a good idea,” she admitted. Jackie was never going to buy any of this if Rose went around looking like a smitten schoolgirl all weekend -- and that was exactly how she felt right now, holding John’s hand in the hallway.

“I thought so,” he said. “And if Jackie’s going to expect us to be affectionate, there’s something else we might want to practice before she gets here.”

“Oh? And what would that be?” Rose really hoped she didn’t sound as breathless as she felt.

John shuffled forward half a step. “Can I kiss you, Rose?”

His eyes looked darker than normal but Rose was pretty sure she was just projecting. She nodded, not trusting her voice.

John cupped her cheek with his free hand and leaned down to press his lips to hers. He kissed her slowly, exploring how she responded to different angles and pressures with the same thoroughness that she assumed he showed in his scientific work. His lips were soft against hers and Rose barely resisted the temptation to nibble on that pouty bottom lip of his like she’d wanted to for ages.

He broke the kiss and rested his forehead against hers instead of pulling back all the way. She was glad for the extra couple of seconds to compose her face. She pulled her bottom lip into her mouth and the taste of him bloomed in her mouth. It was all she could do to not pull him into another kiss. She didn't think she'd ever been kissed so thoroughly and he hadn't even slipped her any tongue.

John squeezed her hand and then straightened, putting a bit more distance between them. He looked a little flushed but then again, she knew she was too.

“Right, I’ll let you get to your cleaning,” he said, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

“Yeah, good plan. I’ll let you know when it’s about time to leave for the train station.”

He nodded sharply and turned to head back to his own flat. Rose opened the door to hers and closed it with her back once she was inside. She stayed there for a moment, leaning against the door with a hand pressed to her mouth, heart still pounding.

She was in so much more trouble than she’d anticipated. How was she going to make it through this without John realizing that she wanted to be so much more than just friends with him?

#lastbluetardis #ficandchips #ten x rose #so i'm thinking four chapters but i think at this point we are all aware of my absolute inability to accurately predict such things ;)#i wrote this #help i need somebody (not just anybody)#also who am i updating this quickly???

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bvtterflyeffectxx-a · 6 years ago

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♡ ━ NO CHOICE.

━ 2009 ; NEARLY A YEAR INTO DC'S INCARCERATION. ( therapy session 01. ) "What brings you here today?" The question feels loaded and she doesn't exactly know how to respond. She didn't want to come here, but it was David who suggested that it was a good idea for her to talk out her past experiences so she can learn how to move on from them. It was difficult for her to get used to life without DC there, hovering over her just waiting for her to fuck up by his standards. She was also have a difficult time adjusting to becoming less of the shell she'd turned into. His incarceration was probably the best thing to ever happen to her and even with his mistreatment of her as his wife, she hates to feel that way about him. After all, she was married to him for nearly twenty years of her life... and even with all the bullshit and the pain, she did love him. That was her problem. Victoria shifts uncomfortably in her seat before finally responding to the question, "I'll be honest with you, I didn't want to come here and I wasn't going to. It was my co-worker who convinced me that it was a good idea." She watches as Dr. Larkin scribbles in her notepad and feels herself becoming even more uncomfortable. It's then that the room gets warmer, like the temperature was raised about ten degrees too high. She pulls the sweater she's wearing by the collar, away from her neck, in an attempt to cool herself down. She's nervous and it shows in how fidgety she is. Dr. Larkin looks up from her notebook with the look of neutrality that David explained to her when he suggested therapy. Apparently, it was effective to speak to someone who had no emotional ties to either parties. More often than not, Victoria was left to fend for herself over the yeas. It was a long, lonely ride but somehow, she'd made it. This was just another step in the right direction, David would say. "Why do you think that is?" "B-because of..." She struggles because she can't help the bitter taste of betrayal that forms on her tongue. She feels that by telling her story, any part of her story, she's betraying him. Hurting him in some way and convincing herself that she's no better than he is by badmouthing him to some stranger. It's not gossip though, it's truth. Her truth, for once. "━because of my husband. Well, soon-to-be ex-husband." "And what is your ex-husband's name?" "Declan, but he goes by DC." Dr. Larkin writes it down. "And why would you be here because of Declan?" "He was..." she struggles once more, this time breaking the minimal eye contact she already had with the doctor to drop her gaze down to her feet. "It's okay, this is a safe place. You're safe here. Nothing leaves this office. What did he do?" "He was... abusive." She looked back up at her, "... very abusive." "Abusive, how?" "Seriously? How are they usually abusive?" "Abuse could be physical... emotional... mental..." "I guess I'll take option D for 'all of the above'..." "Mrs. Deschaine━" She corrects her, "Victoria. Mrs. Deschaine is my mother-in-law." Dr. Larkin continues with a nod, "Victoria, why don't you tell me about the first time you started noticing his negative behavior?" "Like, the first time he hit me?" It was something she longs to forget, but her memory has always been very good. She remembers everything, especially the bad, details and all. not even a few knocks in the head could make her forget the moment when she realized she'd made a mistake. "Perhaps, instead, tell me what he was like when you first met? We'll start from the beginning." There's a soft chuckle that escapes her when the memory came flooding back to the forefront of her mind, "Oh, when we first met... he was a dream." Th room around them seems to fade, bringing her back to many years prior when she was still in high school. When all of her hopes and dreams for her future might be like were open to endless opportunities, before things got really bad. I was pretty popular in high school because I was a cheerleader, she begins the story, but I didn't thrive on the popularity like other people did. My close group of friends weren't involved in any of the sports at school but were creative, imaginative people. I dated a football player for two years before Declan, but I broke up with him when I found out that he was cheating on me with a girl on the cheerleading squad because I wouldn't put out for him. She laughs, thinking about what she'd ended up with instead. Everyone knew of DC and his family. The Deschaines are like Limbo royalty. He wasn't involved in any athletics or school activities either, but he was popular with everybody anyway. Uncommon for a group of delinquents who hung around wearing leather and riding motorcycles, isn't it? She shrugs, But Declan, he was charming. He had a charisma about him that made him irresistible to those around him, especially the girls. Me? I wasn't too interested... my dad was the Chief of Police and he warned me against that group of people daily. I was a good girl. I listened, until I didn't. I remember it was a graduation party that DC was also invited to, although he dropped out of school a year prior. Rumor was that it was so he could prospect for the local motorcycle club, DC confirmed that after we got together Anyway, I was actually kind of bummed about graduation because I knew that it meant change. Friends would lose touch and college was right around the corner. I was still unsure of what I wanted to do with my life. I spent most of the party in the corner of the room, feeling sorry for myself, with a drink in my hand that I barely touched. Everyone else was having a good time and celebrating their success. But I remember the first time our eyes locked on each other's. Every feeling I felt is still so vivid. He was so handsome and he had a smile that made eighteen year old me so weak in the knees, that I had to brace myself against the wall behind me so that I wouldn't fall on my ass. It was the first time I understood why all the girls fell over themselves just to impress him. I was the first one to break the eye contact, but I know DC took his eyes off of me. I was probably as red as that shirt your wearing, she nodded towards the shirt Dr. Larkin had on, I was so embarrassed. But he walked over to me, confident as ever. I remember my... he would be my future brother-in-law, Marc, trailing behind him until DC told him to stay back. I swear, my hands were shaking so badly, I'm so sure he noticed. "What're you doin' here all by yourself?" He asked with the biggest grin stretched across his face, like talking to me was equivalent to winning the lottery. He closed the space between us some, but I noticed he kept enough distance not to make me uncomfortable. "I'm not alone. Just not really in the partying mood." He looks down at the drink in my hand and I feel pathetic for not having taken more than two sips from it. He doesn't seem to care though and he looks back into my eyes and I swear, I could get lost in his. "How 'bout you dance with me? Maybe that'll help you get in tha' partyin' mood?" "Oh, I'm not a dancer." I lied because I actually wasn't bad at it, I was just too nervous to accept the offer. I knew I'd embarrass myself. All DC does is laugh, while he takes the cup from my hand and sets it down on a nearby table. He takes my hand and leads me towards the dance floor. "You're a cheerleader, that's close." I didn't expect him to even know who I was, let alone that I was a cheerleader. He must've noticed the look of surprise contorted into my features. "Don't think I don't know who you are, Victoria Anderson. I've been watchin' you for awhile." His fingers intertwine with mine and he pulls me close. I remember the song being a fast one because I made a comment about it, but he insisted on a slow dance anyway. It was more intimate, he said, and he wanted to be close to me. I could hear whistling and shouting from his friends somewhere off in the distance when his forehead rested against mine and he let go of my hand briefly, probably to flip them off. "You cut your hair," He points out. "I remember it bein' longer." He traces a finger down my spine and stopped at the small of my back. "'bout this long, wasn't it?" I didn't realize until then just how much he paid attention to me. I was so taken by him. My own sisters barely noticed the haircut and they saw me everyday. "Um, yeah, that's right. My mom told me that it was getting too long and said it was time for a trim... and well, the lady at the salon kind of got scissor-happy." "I liked it that long." I suddenly felt silly for listening to my other, but it would grow back. I'd only spoken to him for a few minutes by then, but I already felt like I was falling in love with him. I don't remember it being that way with my ex-boyfriend. We were just kind of together because that's what made sense. But DC? DC made me feel like I was looking at my soulmate. We actually ended up spending the rest of the night together and eventually we ended up leaving the party. It was the first time I'd ever driven on a motorcycle. He took me to his favorite spot, we talked for hours, I missed my curfew for the first time ever. I felt like I'd known him forever, he was so captivating to me. The last thing he said to me that night before he kissed my cheek was, "'m gonna marry you someday," And all I could do was laugh, but inside? I was a wreck. It felt like a fairy tale, like I was watching myself in a movie. All of it felt so surreal. He felt too good to be true. Reality set back in and she watched as Dr. Larking continued scribbling everything down. She wonders briefly what her notes say. "... turns out, he was too good to be true." she swallows hard. "Funny thing is, looking back now, I feel like even then... he gave me no choice but to fall in love with him. Like from the very moment he set his sights on me, I was his. That probably sounds stupid." Dr. Larkin shook her head, "Not at all, Victoria. This was a good start. Our session is almost up, but I would like to continue seeing you.How does next week, same day and time sound?" Victoria nods, "Sure."

#♡ » declan ‘dc’ deschaine / ( connection. )#♡ » drabble / ( writing. )

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