#As if he couldn’t believe that Kate is here alive and happy as his wife

[jeanvanjer]

I just cannot get over the tiny pause Anthony does before saying he wants to dance with Kate.

As if he looked at Kate and his brain had to rewire itself. Like looking at her felt like being hit by a train and he needs to take a moment to collect his breath.

[yetanotheremptypage]

no escaping your love #44: emergency contact (a modern au)

(Read 1-43 here.)

#42. “Is this okay?”

Kate wasn’t answering her phone. Anthony had tried her ten times in the last… Well, five minutes. He’d just realized how in love with her he was, goddamnit; did she really have to pick now, of all times, to not be attached to her phone?

“Can you try her? Please?” he begged Colin. Maybe she was just avoiding him. Which she had the right to do, considering the way he’d left her last night, hopelessly standing on his doorstep and begging him to let her in.

(Emotionally and literally.)

(Neither of which he’d done.)

Colin sighed but did so anyway; his brother loved being the “Kanthony Cupid,” as he’d bragged to Benedict mere moments ago when Anthony had first tried to call Kate. He even kindly put the phone on speaker, setting it on the table. All three brothers crowded around it as it rang, and rang, and rang.

“You’ve reached Kate Sharma! Leave a message and I’ll get back to you soon!”

“Hey, Kate, call my brother back, will you? I think you’ll like what he has to say,” Colin said, sounding jovial but Anthony could see his expression and just how confused and scared he was starting to look. There was absolutely no reason for Kate not to be answering her phone.

“Let’s not panic,” Benedict said, but Anthony bolted to his feet and began pacing his living room. “She’s probably just dodging your calls. And assumes Colin is with you, which would be correct.”

“Then they should go straight to voicemail and they’re not,” Anthony retorted. Benedict had nothing to say to that.

Anthony’s phone, sitting next to Colin’s on the table, began to vibrate. He all but dived for it, not even bothering to look and see who was calling.

“Kate?”

“This is St. George’s Hospital; am I speaking to Anthony Bridgerton?” a clipped voice asked on the other end.

Anthony’s stomach dropped right out of him. Good Lord, were they orphans? Benedict and Colin were here, whole, alive, but what had happened?

“Yes, that’s me.”

“You’re listed as the emergency contact for Katharine Sharma. She was brought in about twenty minutes ago after a car accident—”

“Is she alright?” he practically yelled into the receiver.

“She was conscious upon arrival, but is currently in surgery. I’m afraid that’s all I can tell you at this time.”

“Thank you. I’ll be right there.”

He explained everything he knew to Colin and Benedict, who drove him to the hospital because his hands were shaking. Colin parked while Benedict walked with Anthony to the A&E. Benedict had called Mary and Edwina in the car, so they would arrive soon.

It was supposed to be me, he couldn’t help but think, even as they were shown to Kate’s room; she was out of surgery, a nasty broken leg but otherwise seemingly fine. A miracle, really.

He said it, once he was sitting down. Murmuring, mostly to himself but certainly at an audible enough volume, about what an idiot he’d been.

He’d been isolating himself all week as he slowly came to the realization that not only was he falling in love with Kate Sharma, but she appeared to be doing the same with him. When she showed up on his doorstep last night, declaring that she wasn’t going to leave until he spoke to her, confessing that she loved him, he had ripped out both their hearts with the biting declaration that he could never love her. He had no idea how long she stayed out there.

But when he checked before he went to bed an hour later, she was gone. He hadn’t even realized. The guilt had set in, then, and festered all day today. Who told his brothers, he had no idea, but they’d come to him and they’d all talked. About losing their father. About love. The healthiest, most honest conversation, Anthony was quite certain, they had ever had. It had made him want, no, need, to talk to Kate.

It was hard to believe that wasn’t even an hour ago, now. He hadn’t been able to think of anything other than the fact that he could have lost her tonight since the nurse or doctor or whoever on the opposite end had told him what had happened.

“What the hell are you talking about?” a tired, barely there voice said, and Anthony lifted his head in sheer surprise, almost bursting into tears when his eyes meet the rich brown ones of Kate.

“Oh, thank God.” Trying not to push his luck, he raises their joined hands to his mouth and kisses them. “You scared me there for a second.”

“I’ll be sure to ring you next time an idiot runs a red light.” She shifted, glancing down at her new cast.

“See that you do.”

“Where’s Mary? And Edwina?”

“Didn’t you know? I’m your emergency contact.” She flushed and he smirked, leaning back in his seat. She still hadn’t let go of his hand, which he took as a good sign. “Now why is that, I wonder?”

“Because you’re not three hours away, dipshit.”

“Ah, but you love me.”

They both froze. She tried to drop his hand, but he clutched it tighter and leaned back towards her.

“And I love you too.”

“That’s not what you said last night.”

“I know.” He swallowed. “Kate, ever since my father died, I’ve just known that I’m never going to be able to have the life he did. I don’t deserve it. But also… who’s to say I wouldn’t die young, too? Who’s to say I won’t leave behind a grieving wife and a gaggle of children? I never, ever want to do that to anyone. I watched my mom suffer, I watched my siblings suffer, I let myself suffer. And that, that is the only reason I turned you away last night. Because I do want you, Kate, I want you more than I have ever wanted anything else in my entire life, and it terrifies me.”

She nodded, not making eye contact with him.

“Then what changed?”

“Colin knocked some sense into me.” She hummed.

“He’s good at that.”

“Oh, God, never let him hear you say that.” She snorted, then looked down at their hands, still joined on her bed. She ran her thumb over the back of his.

“You deserve a happy life, Anthony. For however long you get. I can’t keep seeing you torture yourself to make others happy just so they won’t suffer when you’re gone. So...if you aren’t going to be in this as if we had forever, then you should leave. Because I’m not going to keep playing this game like this.”

“I am in this. I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

She tugged on their hands until he almost faceplanted into her chest; he managed to catch himself, propping his hand next to her head, and kissed her. It was everything he’d always imagined it to be, and he wondered just how long he would have been able to suffer without her just like this, pliant and hesitant and his.

When they finally pulled apart for air, she scooted over in the bed and patted the spot next to her. He climbed in without hesitation, carefully squeezing in and trying not to jostle her.

“Is this okay?” Anthony asked, looking down at her once he felt reasonably settled. (Hospital beds, it turns out, aren’t really meant for more than one person. Go figure.)

She nodded, curling up against him, and it felt like coming home.

[queerchoicesblog]

Epilogue: Underwater (SC Titanic, Zetta x Adele Series)

As promised, here the epilogue of the Zetta x Adele Series, folks. 

This is the very end of a project that meant me quite a lot to me and got me through the last terrible year. Thanks to all those who supported it: hope you enjoyed it and will enjoy this ending.

In case you were wondering, this song inspired the whole series, particularly the last chapters:

I will skip the tag list for once since it’s pointless anyway. 

➡️ Ch. 1, Ch. 2/1, Ch. 2/2, Ch. 3, Ch. 4, Ch. 5, Ch. 6, Ch. 7, Ch. 8/1, Ch. 8/2, Ch. 9, Ch. 10/1, Ch. 10/2, Ch. 11/1, Ch. 11/2, Ch. 12, Ch. 13, Ch. 14, Ch. 15 , Ch. 16, Ch. 17

_________________________

Almost a century after the sinking of the RMS Titanic and to celebrate Canada becoming the first country outside Europe to legalise same-sex marriage, the Canadian Film Institute decided to work side by side with several LGBTQ+ organisations across the world to put together an exhibition focused on the early queer cinema and the many queer stars who were forced to hide their true selves in the Golden Age of cinematography, spanning from 1890s till the aftermath of Second World War. "A testament to the role the LGBTQ+ community played in the history of cinema and that we have always been here, even if people hardly saw us" as a journalist wrote on a queer magazine. After the recent discovery of some private documents, the curators were overjoyed to include an icon of the 1900s - 1910s cinema like Zetta Serda into the retrospective and cast a new light on her extraordinary career sadly soon forgotten after the advent of the sound era. Yet, the silent picture star was mentioned as a model and 'endless source of inspiration" by many queer movie stars like Cary Grant, Katherine Hepburn, Greta Garbo all part of the retrospective. Rumor has it that as soon as she landed in America, Marlene Dietrich demanded his agent a meeting with Mrs King.

A curator drove all the way to Montreal to meet the last known heir, a certain Mrs. Julia Nowak, who greeted him on the threshold of a cosy downtown apartment. She offered him a coffee and a slice of a Polish sweet bread: the recipe was a family heirloom, she explained, beaming. She was in her late fifties, a therapist, she said. Her hazel eyes gleamed when she added, in a pleasantly soothing voice that betrayed a hint of excitement: "I must confess I am so incredibly happy that you contacted me about the retrospective. I adore the idea and I will make sure to attend it. Also" she nodded to a wedding picture hung to the wall "did you know that my wife is in politics? She campaigned for the legalisation...yes, Madeleine Fournier: see, you know her! We got married right after the law passed. If anything, your call and project made me twice as happy". She took a pause, smiling over her coffee in remembrance. "Anyway, back to the matter of your visit...yes, as far as I know, I am Zetta's last heir. As you probably know, my family wasn't officially related to her but she stated otherwise in her will". She moved to the couch and gestured the curator to follow her as she opened up one of the boxes and chests piled into the living room and picked out an old album, the leather cover worn at the edges. Dust waltzed in the air as she opened it with caution and gentle care. She showed him a slightly discoloured black and white picture of a young couple kissing for the camera in front of a church. Another wedding picture, from a different era. "Nana Hileni and Papa Maciej's wedding picture. I still remember them even if they both died when I was barely a teen...as if one couldn't bear to live without the other. Or so I like to think. She would help me with the homework, mathematics particularly, and he baked this bread for me till he was too weak to do so. He always claimed that he won Nana's heart with his pastries but she always denied it laughing". She passed another picture of the same couple proudly standing in front of the Nowak family bakery in Hoboken. "Frankly, I believe that Papa's broad shoulders and Marlon Brando smile are more likely to blame for this coup de foudre" she laughed. "And he knew how to deal with her no-nonsense attitude and vice versa. They...balanced each other, if you wish". She picked another picture and handed it to him. A woman was looking down in tender adoration and awe to a baby nestled in her arms looking up at her, outstretching a tiny arm in an attempt to touch her face. "There! This is Dad" she pointed at the baby before turning the picture where someone wrote 'Alex meets Auntie Adele'. Turning it again, she pointed at the woman. "This is Adele Carrem. Or Auntie Adele as I've always heard calling her. Nana's sister and Zetta's publicist and companion" Putting it back into the album, she carefully picked a bunch of other old pictures. "You surely know who this one is" she smiled, handing out the one on top. The photo was rather grainy but you could still recognise the same kid, slightly older, around two, sucking his thumb, cuddled up in Zetta's lap. The actress had aged a little but her features were unmistakable and it was endearing to see her sitting by the fireplace to read that kid with the sleepy face a bedtime story. "Sadly, I have never met them. I wish I did, oh you have no idea...but stories of them lived through in our family" Julia continued. "My Dad loved his Aunties - as he called them - dearly and by what I've heard and read, they loved him in manner as if he was their own. He knew little of them or Zetta's career back then...to him they were just the sweet ladies who would buy him ice-cream in Central Park or take him to see his favourite pictures over and over again at the movie theater. He said he will never forget the afternoons he used to spend with them in a Manhattan cafe that no longer exists around Christmas: Nana and Papa worked like crazy as the festive season approached and the glorious cup of hot chocolate with an elegant puff of cream on top with the Aunties became a tradition to him. He kept it alive somehow as he did the same with me". She handed the curator a bunch of other pictures: Zetta cleaning up Alex's face smeared with jam, the both of them laughing; Zetta posing with Maciej and her Dad at a table in the Hoboken bakery. He eventually mirrored her smile seeing a five years old Alex at the beach all engrossed in building a sandcastle with Hileni and Adele, and he standing at the water edge hand in hand with Miss Carrem, looking out into the distance. "These are family pictures. I'll show you the Zetta's private memorabilia we cherished". Julia searched a little, opening an old chest and handling every item inside with tender care. When she found what she was looking for, she showed the curator an elegant set of smaller boxes containing letters, dried flowers and photos. "I have already received an offer to get these published. I'm still pondering it. Before agreeing, I want to consider throughly if this is a thing they would have wanted, even if they're no longer here" The curator nodded as she kept searching. He skimmed a few letters and smiled as his eyes fall on the photos hidden away in those boxes: the two women sitting together and chatting at Hileni's wedding, Zetta's reading a script, lazily sprawled on a chaise long in her apartment. Some had short lines handwritten on the back, like a promotional picture with "Missing you" written by Zetta herself. The curator showed another to Mrs Nowak: a visibly excited Miss Carrem proudly showing to the camera a document announcing her voter registration. On the back, in Zetta's penmanship: "On the way to vote...my sweet Adele won!". "Oh you didn't know? Auntie Adele was a suffragette! I couldn't believe it when I first heard it! Nana told me that she was in and out jail when they lived in London because of protests. You know, like those suffragettes you read about in history books but less famous. Yet she fought for women's rights and kept fighting for them even in America. She was quite disappointed though by some major decisions of some feminist movements and eventually joined a socialist Union 'more rightfully welcoming working class individuals, immigrants and black brothers and sisters'. It's all in those letters but yeah, you couldn't possibly know. So little is known about her outside family". A little smile drew on her face as she put back the photo. "That photo was taken the day of the first election open to women. I checked the date. I suppose Zetta wanted to immortalise the moment...it was sweet of her, huh? Auntie Adele must have been so proud and overjoyed that day! You know, my Dad was born in 1920 when women's right to vote was legalised nationally and Nana once told me that Auntie commented the lucky coincidence saying she was incredibly happy her nephew would get to live in a fairer world. She was a true force of nature...she never talked much of the sinking of the Titanic just like Zetta and Nana actually but when one day Dad asked...he was barely a child and probably found an old article about the tragedy...Auntie Adele minimised but Nana assured him that her sister saved her life that night, risking her own to go down to the belly of the sinking ship to bring her to safety. Auntie simply shrugged, saying that it was what sisters do and that they made it to the lifeboats only thanks to Zetta, who shouted protests to stubborn officers and eventually found them a spot on a boat. I cannot even bring myself to imagine how scary that must have been: I cried so much when Madeleine took me to see Leo and Kate...to think they were there and it was all real!" She picked a few other objects out the box: a Shakespeare Sonnets book in a leather cover with golden engravings, with a little handwritten dedication 'To Adele, my sonnet 116. Happy birthday! With all my love, Zetta'; old scripts with annotations, a framed photograph of Adele and Zetta slow dancing barefoot in the living room of a gorgeous Long Island mansion. "These have a sentimental value" Mrs Nowak noted, her voice betraying the flicker of emotions as she picked it up. She took a deep sigh and continued. "I remember the day I told Dad I was gay as it was yesterday. We had always been quite close so it came natural to tell him first. We were in his car, he had come straight from college to pick me up at ice-skating practice. I..I dropped it in the middle of a conversation, bracing myself for the worst. I heard so many bad stories about coming out to your parents I was terrified of the consequences but I couldn't hide it anymore. I mean, yes, in public: bullies get even nastier if they know and I didn't want people shouting me "dyke" at school. But I needed to get it out of my chest...with someone at least. He kept quiet for a moment and I felt like drowning in shame. But then he spoke". A nostalgic tender smile formed Julia's lips. "He said he had two amazing Aunties that contributed to make his life a wondrous adventure. It was thanks to them that he, the son of a baker, could attend a prestigious college, for instance: they offered to pay for it without asking a penny back. They also helped him write his first romantic letter to his childhood sweetheart and consoled him when the little girl turned him down. But his Aunties had a secret, he added. He said: to my kid eyes they were no less a couple than Mom and Dad and at home we all treated them in manner but one day Mom made me promise to behave differently when we were in public. In public I would refer to her sister as 'Auntie Adele' but call Zetta by her name. He didn't get it and it took some getting used to. He soon noticed that even the Aunties behaved a bit differently out in the sun: they wouldn't hold hands or use endearing words in the street or when other people were around. They simply behaved like good friends did. He understood it later when he, as stubborn as a mule, asked them directly". Julia gently grazed her fingers on the glass of the framed photograph, caressing it. "And they told me everything, he said. That they were in love, just like mom and dad were, but people out there could be uncomfortable and extremely rude to women loving other women and men loving other men. That they kept their companionship a secret in public because those people had no problems with women being friends and they didn't want to have bad words or worse happening to them. I remember asking him what he thought about it. He smiled. 'I cried. Since Auntie Zetta mentioned people claiming that women like them were sick and would burn in hell, I actually started crying. I sobbed desperately in her arms, crying that I didn't want them to burn in hell, I loved my Aunties and I was happy they loved each other. Eventually they explained me it was just a vile lie spread my malignant people. But I got quite a scare and kept staring at them with puffy red eyes and my face wet with tears for a while. It required lots of cuddling to bring a smile back on my face'. He shook his head, laughing of his endearing naivety. Then he pulled over and looked at me. He continued: 'I still don't get why people keep spreading those mean lies but I know for sure that my Aunties weren't sick and didn't end up in hell and so won't you. Don't believe bullshits like that for a split second, okay? And I also want you to remember that it doesn't change a thing for me and mom too. You will always be my little girl, our little girl and we love you'. We shared a long hug before driving back home. On the way back he insisted to buy my favourite chicken and waffles for dinner, saying mom's veggie soup could wait. For my birthday, a month later or so, he asked me to follow him to the attic and showed me this chest. To meet the Aunties that 'would have surely been there for me'". She tipped away a tear. "I told you I married Madeleine right after the legalisation of same-sex marriages. My wedding was also the last public event Mom and Dad attended together before his health worsened irremediably. He passed away last year". For a moment she looked on the verge of tears but she recovered quickly. "Sorry...anyway, that day Dad insisted on walking me down the aisle even if he was getting weak. He beamed with pride when a friend fixed a rainbow ribbon to his jacket. Later at the lunch he read a speech he had written for the day, his hand shaking. He shared the story of his Aunties. He said that despite the hardships their situation forced upon them, they had quite a happy life together, a happiness carefully hidden from the world. He wished us to find something similar to what they shared without needing to hide anymore. He said Adele and Zetta would have been so happy and proud to celebrate with all of us that day" Mrs. Nowak picked the Shakespeare Sonnet book and gave him a fond look. "He brought this to the wedding. And he read for us the sonnet 116, the one Zetta mentioned in her dedication. You know, the one that starts with 'Let me not to the marriage of true minds admit impediments..." ----------------------- A few months later the exhibition on old Hollywood queer cinema and artists opened. Each artist had a room that soon filled with a crowd of enthusiastic visitors. In the first half, in a room arranged as a turn of the century nickelodeon with velvet chairs, all the memorabilia of Zetta Serda's public life: panels explaining the various stages of her career and the birth of her myth, promotional pictures of her performances, articles about her and a copy of a gazette announcing her wedding with the director Richard King. On the wall, on a screen her entire filmography rolled up in loop, bewitching spectators after a century. In display cases: the gorgeous sapphire necklace she wore on her last night on the Ship of Dreams and at the movie party of Surviving the Titanic, and a replica of her Cleopatra costume. The aging Queen of Egypt with a tragic love and destiny immortalised by Shakespeare was her last role back on the theater stage before retiring from the scenes. Old scripts with her personal annotation were displayed with photographs taken on sets and mundane events. The wall hosting the motion-picture screen cut the room in half. On the other side, the hidden half of her life. Her life with Adele no one suspected back then. A life kept secret that now unveiled in front of the eyes of the visitors. The curators discovered that finding public pictures of Miss Carrem was nearly impossible, true to the nickname she acquired as time went by: The Shadow. She stayed at Zetta's side until and even after she stopped acting, showing rare loyalty and devotion, but ever surrounded by this mystery allure. No one, even the most stubborn reporters managed to know anything about her and she was soon dismissed as a Titanic survivor, possibly a fan, who worked as Zetta's secretary and somehow gained her respect. Little they knew about the depth of their relationship and what stacks of secret letters and family memories revealed of the life of Miss Carrem. A panel finally told her story and her secret achievements: Adele, or better Adal, kept fighting for a fairer world and society her whole life and marched for women's right to vote on the famous parade in 1915. She also passed the teaching of Edith Garrud to her American sisters. The only pictures of her came from the Nowak family, except for one. The only photograph of a public appearance of Miss Carrem as well as the only known public appearance of Zetta and Adele. An old grainy photo accurately framed showed Adele shaking hands with The Unsinkable Molly Brown on a podium. In her free hand a shiny medal and a few steps behind the mayor of New York. According to the panel, the survivors' committee founded by Mrs. Brown decided to award Miss Carrem a medal for bravery and a generous check "to help her and her sister starting a new life in America". With great surprise, Miss Carrem received the medal and the check, thanked the board but refused the honors. Instead, she asked to deliver them both to the family of a certain Charlie Stoke, a stewart that lost his life in the sinking to save her life and those of many passengers. She added that her friend expressed the desire to study naval engineering one day and she wished that the money kindly offered to her would be enough to establish a scholarship for boys like him across the ocean. In another picture, Miss Carrem and her sister chatted with Moll Brown in company of Zetta. Eventually, other philanthropists and wealthy socialites signed checks for her cause so that the Stoke family received a generous contribution too. And today, as another picture confirmed, the faculty of naval engineering of the University of Newcastle hosts a marble engraving of Charlie Stoke: to his memory a scholarship had been instituted one year after on the anniversary of the sinking. Since 1913 it has been helping students of poor background to get an education and improve their life. Zetta herself became a philanthropist during her Renaissance and ever since. The first act of her new phase of her life was joining the Moll Brown survivors committee to provide help to the second and third class passengers families and survivors. Some said that the tragedy she witnessed touched her heart, other claimed that it was to be attributed to the influence of her publicist. Jokingly, she used to say that after all, she had too much money yet all she could have wished for in her life, so why not doing some good with it? A considerable donation under her and Mr King was received by the main hospital during the Spanish flu pandemic; she was particularly active in providing financial help to struggling neighbourhoods and female education institutions. In the middle of the room, a long glass display hosted the Shakespeare Sonnets opened at sonnet 116 and a selection of the private correspondence between Zetta and Adele. My darling, You will receive this letter tomorrow morning when I'll be already off to Chicago. The suitcases are ready and packed, this is a goodnight note scribbled the night before leaving you to remind you how much I love you and care about you. How much I'm going to miss you even if - thank God! - we won't be parted for long... Do not forget you promised me to write every day! Write to me, Adele, write to me whatever thought crosses that gorgeous mind of you: you know I could you rambling for hours without getting tired of the sound of your voice, of your sparkling wisdom. I wanna know everything. So don't be shy: I'll be waiting your letters with tender impatience. Can't wait to be in your arms once more. Adoringly yours, Zetta - Dear, dearest Zetta, I went to Central Park today with Hileni. It was a gorgeous spring day, sunny, a gentle breeze blowing: 'simply too beautiful to be wasted inside' as my sister put it. Did I tell you that she's still exchanging letters with the delivery boy from the hat shop? I thought they were over but apparently he invited her to the nickelodeon next week. Anyway, walking in the park with her I suddenly realised how I wanted to share that spring wonder with you. When are you coming back to New York? Tell me soon, please. And even 'soon' won't be soon enough: you're always on my mind since you left. But yes, tell me soon so I can make you promise we will go for a walk before the weather becomes too hot. Do you think I can wrap my arm with yours? Is it professional enough for a publicist? Even just for a few steps: oh you have no idea how I would love that! Or maybe you have? I hope so: it'd mean you miss me as much as I miss you when we are apart. Oh, I almost forgot: all settled with that magazine you mentioned before your departure! I negotiated a two pages long interview, plus pictures. And a cover mention. Hope I did well: you have already fired me as your secretary, I must prove you I am just what you're looking for in a publicist... Can't wait to see you again! Loving you always, Adele Only one letter was copied on a panel of its own on the main wall side by side with a blow-up of the picture of Adele and Zetta slow-dancing barefoot and free, for a blessed moment immortalised in a discreet shot. Adele pressing a tender kiss on Zetta's forehead, drawing a soft smile on the acrtress' lips. Many visitors commented it was heartwarming to see such a photograph that conveyed the intimacy and the warmth of affection radiating from the dancing couple. Some said that Zetta was even more beautiful like that: free, hair slightly askew and genuinely happy, loved. What stole their hearts away though was the letter attached to it. It was no surprise that the curators decided to name the retrospective Underwater. Dearest Adele, Forgive me for the tone of this letter. I am writing it down in bed while I cannot sleep and my mind runs back to you as if we could meet halfway between the miles separating us, in a world of fantasy of our own. It's ridiculous how much I miss you! I want you near, I need you near all the time. Take tonight: if you were here with me, I would be heavenly sleeping in your loving embrace. Most unfortunately, you are not and I'm lying here, insomniac, thinking of you. And about my life. No, don't frown. I am not getting all sad again. It's...bittersweet. And - I'll spoil you the ending so you will stop worrying, hopefully - it gets better the more you proceed. Have you ever felt trapped underwater? I did, my whole life. Always hiding, always measuring words, gestures, gazes not to let them see, not to let them know...so little time to go up and break the surface. Drop the mask and breathe. In, out. Once, twice. In my lowest moments I repeated to my myself: how are you gonna survive? One day an acquaintance with a remarkable passion for the sea explained me and the other bored commensals that you can keep someone alive by breathing oxygen into their mouth underwater. Pretty much like mouth-to-mouth resuscitation helps an unconscious person to regain consciousness. I found it interesting but doubted his words. Then I met you, Adele. My dearest, wondrous Adele. And I learnt that yes, you can't breathe if you're constantly underwater...but you won't drown if you have the right person swimming by your side in those deep waters. Put your lips on me, Adele. Touch me, hold me in your arms. And I can live underwater. With your love, I can live underwater. We can live underwater. I love you. I want to cover a full page of these three simple words: I love you. I want to cry them out and entrust them to the winds, to the night. But what for? Who cares if the world knows or not? I'll whisper them over your lips when we will be reunited. So you can breathe underwater. Counting down the hours separating us, my love. Eternally yours, Zetta

[backtothestart02]

Risk and Reward - 2/? | Cruel Summer fanfiction

A/N: Chapter 2 is here! Enjoy!

...

Chapter 2 -

Kate entangled her arms and took a small step back after the relief of being rescued had started to subside. She looked up into the girl’s eyes who had opened the door to her freedom, and her jaw dropped.

“Jeanette?”

Jeanette paled before her.

“Y-Yeah. It’s me.”

“You actually came back.” She softened. “You came back for me.”

Jeanette swallowed, but her brows were furrowed in confusion.

“I…”

“You used your key, right? To break in?”

Jeanette started to panic. Kate knew too much. If she knew that she’d come here before, what else did she know? Was she aware of how many times she had come?

She had to come up with a lie, and fast. Something the police would believe.

“No,” she said, causing Kate’s brows to draw in confusion. “The door was open. I thought maybe there was…a burglar or something inside. I was just riding by on my bike, and I happened to see it.”

She was a good liar, Kate thought, and she might’ve bought it herself if she didn’t know better. She wanted to argue back that she knew she’d seen her months earlier and said nothing, hadn’t come back for her until now. But Martin could be back at any moment, and what would happen then? It would be two girls he locked up in his basement, not just one.

“We should get out of here,” Kate said. “Before Martin comes back.”

“Shouldn’t we call the cops first?”

Kate turned around slowly after having headed for the door. She pulled a necklace – a very familiar one – out of her pocket and shoved it at Jeanette.

“Get me home first, Jeanette. Before you find an excuse to get me back in that basement.”

“I-I would never-”

“Save it for the cops.”

Suddenly, the sound of the front door opening alerted them.

“Oh, shit, it’s him.”

“Go!” Jeanette said.

“Where?” Kate asked desperately. “Back down in the basement?”

“No,” she said heatedly. “Out the back door. I’ll be there soon…give you time to escape.”

“Jeanette, no, you don’t know what he’s capable of.”

The door started to open.

“Go.”

Not wanting to be caught, and terrified of her captor, Kate quickly shut and locked the basement door before fleeing to the back of the house. Jeanette heard the back door close just as Martin Harris appeared before her.

“Jeanette,” he said, surprised. “What are you doing here? Did you…break in?”

His voice sounded calm, but his composure was faltering. Jeanette remembered what Kate had said.

You don’t know what he’s capable of.

She swallowed.

“No, of course not.”

He looked at her curiously.

“I um, was just riding my bike when I saw your door was open. I worried someone might’ve broken in and came to investigate.”

His demeanor shifted slightly.

“That was very dangerous for you to do, Jeanette. What if someone had been in here?” He stepped closer to her. “With a gun?”

She gulped.

“Well, it looks like the house is empty. I don’t see anything missing.”

He nodded slowly, eyeing her cautiously.

“How long have you been here?”

“Just a few minutes,” she assured, then quickly added, “I really should be going. My friends and Jamie are waiting for me at the roller rink. It’s my birthday.”

“Happy Birthday.”

“Thanks.”

She tried to squeeze past him, but he grabbed her arm before he could.

“Jeanette?”

“Yeah?” she asked, trying to remain as composed as possible, but her heart was racing.

“Don’t do this again.”

She nodded.

“I won’t.”

At last he released her, and she quickly made her way outside. Martin stood in the doorway, watching her leave, so she couldn’t wait for Kate or he’d suspect her. There was no need. Her bike was gone, and she had a pretty good idea who had taken it.

Kate.

“Something wrong?” Martin looked around the yard. “Didn’t you say you were riding by? On your bike?”

“Someone must’ve taken it.”

“Well, come inside. We’ll call the cops. Get this all sorted out.”

“No,” she said quickly – perhaps too quickly? “I’ll be fine. Thanks, Mr. Harris.”

He nodded reluctantly and waved.

“Goodbye, Jeanette.”

“Goodbye, Mr. Harris.”

He shut the door behind himself, and Jeanette started to run. Any second now he would realize Kate was gone. And she, Jeanette, was close enough for him to track down and kidnap if he decided he needed someone locked up.

He only hoped it really had been Kate who had stolen her bike, because if not, she was still in danger.

Just to be safe, she stopped at the end of the block and knocked on the door of the house there. A middle-aged man came to the door.

“Hello. Can I help you?”

“Hi! Can I use your bathroom?” She squeezed her legs together as if her bladder was about to explode. “I’m not close to home, and I really gotta go.”

He stepped back and let her inside.

“Please, go. It’s the last room on the right down the hall.”

“Thanks!”

Jeanette sped past him and went into the bathroom. Once inside, she started pacing, wondering what she would do. This man seemed safe, and when she stopped pacing, she could hear him talking to a woman…maybe his wife? She licked her lips, flushed the toilet and washed her hands for good measure, then dried her hands on the towel and exited the bathroom.

She went down to the kitchen where she heard the man and woman talking in low tones. They stopped as soon as they saw her.

“Feel better?”

“Yes. Much. Thank you.”

The man nodded, and the woman smiled.

“Actually, could I use your phone?”

“Of course, dear,” the woman said, then began to reach for it to give to her. “You need to call your folks?”

“Actually, it’s more serious than that.”

The two of them looked at her curiously.

“I have to call the cops.”

Their eyes widened.

“What for?” the woman asked.

“I found Kate Wallis. She’s alive.”

“Good gracious. The missing girl? Where did you find her?”

“At Martin Harris’s house,” she said, taking the phone from her and dialing 9-1-1.

“The assistant principal?” the man asked, in shock.

Jeanette didn’t respond. Instead, she spoke into the phone when the operator answered.

“Yes, my name is Jeanette Turner. I’d like to report a kidnapping.”

…

Kate rode as hard as she could on Jeanette’s bike. It would be faster than walking or running, and she knew it would only be a matter of time before Martin knew she was gone. For all she knew, he’d come after her in his car and force her back with him. She couldn’t risk that. Jeanette would have to find another way home. She deserved it for not trying to free her when she could’ve back on Christmas Eve.

Not that she’d been locked up then of course, but obviously Jeanette knew that. Still. She could’ve called the cops then. Her parents might’ve moved on without her, but she hoped they’d still be relieved to have her home again.

Just a few more blocks…

Her large house came into sight. She stopped the bike at the edge of the driveway and rushed to the front door, pounding on it, since one turn proved to her that it wasn’t open.

The door flung open, and she fell into her dad’s arms.

“Daddy!”

“Kate!”

He held her tightly.

“Oh, my God, Kate, is it really you?”

She shivered and cried in his arms.

“Joy! Joy! Kate’s back!”

“What?”

Joy’s feet came stampeding down the stairs.

“Oh, my God, Kate!”

In seconds the three of them were sharing a tight hug in their front door entryway.

“I missed you so much! I thought I would never get out.”

“Did someone kidnap you, darlin?” Her mother asked.

She nodded. “Martin Harris.”

Her parents shared a horrified look.

“Martin… That slimey bastard took our little girl?”

Joy clutched at her daughter tighter.

“It’s okay, you’re home now, baby. You’re safe.”

She sniffled. “He’s still out there. Jeanette and I-” She cut herself off.

“Jeanette? Jeanette Turner? She was with you?”

Kate licked her lips.

“She rescued me.”

“Oh, I take back everything bad I ever said about that awkward child. She brought my baby home.”

“Where is she now, honey?” her dad asked.

“I don’t know,” Kate admitted. “I…” She gulped. “I left her at Martin’s house.”

“Call her parents,” Joy instructed her husband. “And the cops. We have to make sure nothing happens to that poor girl.”

Rod reluctantly unentangled himself from his wife and daughter and moved into the house to find the phone. First, he called the cops and quickly learned that there was no need to call Jeanette’s parents. Jeanette was safe at a neighbor’s house, and Martin Harris was a wanted man. He’d vacated his house, and no one was inside. The police had searched it.

Martin Harris was on the run.

“Close the door, Joy,” Rod called to her.

“What- What do you- Why?” But she did as she was told.

“They can’t find Martin. He could be anywhere.”

Kate locked the door.

“He’s not gonna find me again.”

But on the street outside the Wallis house sat Martin Harris in his car, brooding with fury.

Kate Wallis had escaped, and he knew exactly who had helped her.

[fortysevenswrites]

SETHKATE and KASTLE and KIMBERLY/TOMMY

HAHA Emily, I had a feeling I’d get these from you (though pleasantly surprised at the inclusion of Tomberly!)

SethKate

Gives nose/forehead kisses - Seth, but Kate has been known to when she being patronizing, usually because Richie is right about something and Seth is not happy to have to acknowledge that

Gets jealous the most - Seth. 10000%. He knows how OUT OF HIS LEAGUE his tiny, vicious person is, and really does not like how she insists on being SO DAMN NICE AND GIVING THE COMPLETE WRONG IMPRESSION to anyone (any MAN) who comes into Jed’s.

Picks the other up from the bar when they’re too drunk to drive - Both. Usually Seth (especially when he gets caught up in his feelings), but then there are the nights where Kalinda convinces Kate to come out with the Jed’s staff and they all get full on shmammered.

Takes care of on sick days - Both. Seth gets really worried about Kate when she gets sick, like REALLY WORRIED, because of the whole...Amaru of it all, and is SUPER into taking care of her. But when Seth gets sick, he is a whiny, needy mess of a human person, and Kate basically has to cuddle him until he feels better (”has to” in HUGE quotes)

Drags the other person out into the water on beach day - Kate. Fuller. Full stop. Seth, for all that he wouldn’t shut up about El Rey, doesn’t actually like the beach all that much (Anakin Skywalker anti-sand vibes here), but he does let Kate drag him into the ocean whenever they go to the beach because she loves it. And also because she’s in a bikini and DUH.

Gives unprompted massages - Seth is the handsiest and cuddliest. Of course he would.

Drives/rides shotgun - Seth drives. Kate controls the music, and doesn’t always play music he can’t stand.

Brings the other lunch at work - Kate. Not that she slides into the homemaker role that her mother took with her family, but Kate knows that Seth gets distracted and forgets to eat, and when he remembers, he eats like shit, so she takes it upon herself that he has at least a meal or two a day that will help him maintain that six-pack for as long as possible.

Has the better parental relationship - Hahahahahahahahahahaha. Kate by default, even though....neither parental relationship is all that great? Jacob did lie to Kate, a lot. And Jennifer, well, she struggled with her own issues and that did put a strain on her relationship with Kate, especially since Kate didn’t KNOW what was going on behind the scenes.

Tries to start role-playing in bed - I actually don’t think either would. They get up to a LOT in bed, but Kate does not have it in her to role play, I don’t feel. And Seth goes along with what’s going to make Kate happy and not embarrassed, because an embarrassed Kate does not have sex.

Embarrassingly drunk dancer - Kate. She just gives no fucks, and once she starts drinking recreationally, she just likes to have fun. Seth thinks it’s fucking adorable.

Still cries watching Titanic - Seth. It’s a f i l m, and the man knows to appreciate a good movie. Kate just can’t understand why they couldn’t just share the door.

Firmly believes in couples costumes - Kate. Fuller. With backing from Richie. Seth hates it, but well, happy wife, happy life ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Breaks the expensive gift rule during Christmas - Seth. Gecko. Full stop. Kate never really saw a need for money growing up, what with her dad and that constant message of providing for your community, so she really doesn’t know what to do with the money she gets being part of Los Tres Geckos outside of some small splurges. Seth, on the other hand, sees things and doesn’t look at price tags because he loves her.

Makes the other eat breakfast - Both. Since they keep such weird hours while running an operation that is predominantly nocturnal, it’s really just whoever is up first and remembers to check that they need to eat.

Remembers anniversaries - Seth. The man forgets nothing, like, from the big things to the little things (it makes him more than a little petty, too, but hey, what can you do?). Kate remembers the big dates, but Seth seems to have an anniversary for every day of the week for the two of them, whether it’s the first time Kate successfully learned a trick of the trade from him, or the day he realized she was still alive, or any milestone time period after Matanzas, or when Kate learned how to bartend, or, of course, the day he and Richie kidnapped her and her family.

Brings up having kids - Seth. He doesn’t want to be the one to bring it up, but eventually, LONG into the future, Seth realizes he DOES want that with Kate, and it’s a very uncomfortable (for him) conversation because she’s still so much younger than he is and he doesn’t want to pressure her, but also he wants it all with her in a way he never eve thought he’d want with anyone.

Kastle and Tomberly under the cut!

Kastle

Gives nose/forehead kisses - Frank Castle, full stop. When he lets himself, he is v e r y affectionate. It comes to a surprise to Karen, but she gets used to it quick.

Gets jealous the most - Frank, because he feels guilty about the whole thing where he’s a criminal/vigilante and every man who breathes in Karen’s direction he feels could be her chance at a normal life. It takes a while for Karen to beat the stupid out of Frank in that regard, but does happen eventually.

Picks the other up from the bar when they’re too drunk to drive - Frank, every single time. Girls night with Sarah and Marci and Jones and Trish and Claire? Yeah. Frank plays DD more often than he ever imagined he would. Whenever he gets shitfaced off his ass, which is VERY rare, he usually bunks down wherever he is, which is always a controlled environment where he’s safe enough to let go.

Takes care of on sick days - Both. Frank is SUCH a family man, and can’t stand it when someone isn’t feeling well, and Karen is the QUEEN of overdoing it when she’s sick, so he has to make her rest. And the rare times where Frank is the one who’s sick? Karen has to force him to accept her help. That’s when she tends to comment under her breath about how exasperating he is, even though she knows he can hear her.

Drags the other person out into the water on beach day - Karen. They don’t often do normal things like, “Hey, it’s beach day!” Because of the well, vigilante of it all, but when they do, it’s definitely Karen who has to drag him out from under the umbrella. The bikini helps a LOT with her case.

Gives unprompted massages - Frank. He knows Karen gets VERY stressed (he doesn’t blame her, working with Murdock and all), and she spends way more time than he things could possibly be healthy hunched over her computer, so shoulder massages are the norm in the Kastle apartment.

Drives/rides shotgun - Frank does most, if not all of the driving, which, of course, isn’t much when you live in NYC. Unless he’s been hurt and Karen has to cart him back home from wherever he was where he got his ass kicked (which, also, is rare.

Brings the other lunch at work - Frank, because A, he loves taking care of Karen, but also a little bit because Matt HATES when Frank stops by the office, and it scares the CRAP out of Foggy, which is endlessly entertaining.

Has the better parental relationship - Well, neither Frank nor Karen’s parents are in the picture, but it would have to be Frank by default, seeing as Karen’s mom is dead and Karen’s dad is a jerk.

Tries to start role-playing in bed - Neither. Frank is pretty straight-forward in bed, and it never occurs to Karen that she’d want to pretend they’re anything but Frank and Karen.

Embarrassingly drunk dancer - Karen. She doesn’t let loose often, but on girls night? Endless entertainment.

Still cries watching Titanic - Karen gets teary because she gets frustrated. Titanic is just…not a movie that Frank’s a fan of, but he humors Karen whenever she chooses to hate-watch something.

Firmly believes in couples costumes - Not that they really partake on Halloween much, but Karen would be the one most likely to come up with a couples themed costume. Frank would probably find any and every excuse to be busy on Halloween so he can avoid it.

Breaks the expensive gift rule during Christmas - Neither really. Holidays are hard for Frank, and neither are very materialistic. They tend to just spend holidays with one another, or they go to the Lieberman’s, and most of their efforts center on getting nice gifts for the kids.

Makes the other eat breakfast - Frank. If Karen had it her way, she’s subsist on coffee and spite. Frank makes sure she gets enough caloric energy in her so she can instill fear in the unjust.

Remembers anniversaries - Both. Frank can’t forget any of his anniversaries and important dates with Maria and the kids, but also really can’t forget things like the day he met Karen at the hospital, the day at the hotel with Lewis, and of course, the day he pulled his head out of his ass and apologized for telling her to walk away. Karen also can’t forget the day she met Frank, when he used her as bait in the coffee shop, also the hotel, and when Frank totaled her car when she was being held hostage by Schoonover.

Brings up having kids - Frank, but only in the sense that he’s concerned that Karen doesn’t know what she’s getting into with him (yeah, right). Karen sets him straight that she really doesn’t want kids and also doesn’t want to think that she wants to replace Lisa and Frankie. They talk about it once and it never really comes up again.

Kimberly/Tommy

Gives nose/forehead kisses - Tommy. Because as much as Kimberly can hold her own in a fight, she is still is tiny and adorable girlfriend.

Gets jealous the most - Neither really (BECAUSE IN THIS UNIVERSE THERE WAS NO STUPID FUCKING LETTER). Yeah, long distance is hard, but they manage to keep things together pretty well while Kimberly competes internationally.

Picks the other up from the bar when they’re too drunk to drive - Tommy absolutely plays DD. When they’re old enough to drink, Kimberly absolutely enjoys letting loose and going to a party or two or…twelve.

Takes care of on sick days - Kimberly, because Tommy, being a leader and all, rarely lets anyone see him when he’s sick or struggling. He is very stubborn.

Drags the other person out into the water on beach day - Kimberly. On days where the bad guys choose not to attack when the Rangers are out at the beach (or, well, the lake in Angel Grove, California, Canada), it’s Kimberly who pulls Tommy into the water with her, but also Tommy who pulls Kim back out with him when he gets bored of her lying around working on her tan.

Gives unprompted massages - Both. They’re both not just Rangers, but they’re athletes too, and they know how important it is to avoid muscle strain as much as possible.

Drives/rides shotgun - When they’re not teleporting to and from the Command Center, it’s Tommy who does most of the driving, so Kimberly can finish doing her makeup or filling him in on the latest school gossip.

Brings the other lunch at work - Neither. They’re both very self-sufficient, but will trade off who picks up their smoothies from Ernie up at the juice bar.

Has the better parental relationship - Neither. Kimberly’s parents are suuuuuuper MIA (like, if they weren’t, they’d probably figure out pretty quick that she’s, you know, A FUCKING POWER RANGER), and Tommy’s parents are also pretty…MIA. Like, really, do ANY Rangers have parents other than…Billy? It’s not that Zordon was looking for teenagers with attitude. It was attitude AND absentee parents.

Tries to start role-playing in bed - They are way too damn vanilla to even consider role play.

Embarrassingly drunk dancer - Tommy. Oliver. For all that he’s very good at fighting, it does NOT transfer to da club.

Still cries watching Titanic - Kimberly. She just gets emotional about how Jack sacrificed himself so Rose could live. Tommy wishes Kimberly would watch more movies with explosions. (And also wonders why the hell they couldn’t have just shared the door)

Firmly believes in couples costumes - Technically both, because Tommy is INTO Halloween and is happy to let Kimberly pick the costumes for them,

Breaks the expensive gift rule during Christmas - I mean, they’re in high school and fighting a war, so I don’t think they really think much about presents (plus, they get pretty sick gets in terms of tech from Zordon), but as adults, definitely Tommy doting on Kim, who gets annoyed that he’s using his teacher salary on extravagant gifts (she’s the real moneymaker in the family as a world-famous gymnast and coach)

Makes the other eat breakfast - When they do live together, Kimberly does the meal making because she finds cooking therapeutic.

Remembers anniversaries - Both, but Tommy remembers some of the more obscure anniversaries, like the day Kim fainted when she saw him in the new White Ranger uniform.

Brings up having kids - Kimberly. She tells Tommy that she’s planning on retiring from competing and going to coaching full-time, and when Tommy asks why, Kimberly tells him that it’s really hard to do a side aerial off the balance beam while pregnant, since balance is…hard when there’s a bun in the oven.

[waywardwrestlewritingwaif]

The Guardian’s Oath, Part Seven

13The continuing saga continues... Rather than linking each previous section individually, I’m just going to direct you to the Master List, where you can find links to earlier chapters and to everything else I’ve written here. 

Pairing: Feargal Devitt/ Finn Balor x OFC

Word count: 2,913

Content advisory: Nothing. Compared to the last couple of sections, this one’s practically a children’s story. (Except that it’s still a story about demons and death and 19th century sexuality and all that good stuff, there’s just nothing explicit in this part.)

I dressed myself while it was still dark, wincing from my invisible wounds, and went downstairs earlier than usual. I told myself that it was because I could do more productive things if I left my chambers but the truth was that I knew that the Reverend was still there, that he had not yet left to make his weekly rounds. He was in the kitchen, lightheartedly chatting with Kate over coffee and some toast about events in the town. They were surprised to see me but I thought that both looked pleased in their own way. I was especially happy to see that the Reverend’s eyes seemed to linger on me longer than usual. 

Kate looked at me as if we were sharing some private joke and handed me a cup of coffee. 

“You’re up early, Miss.”

“Thank you,” I said, taking the coffee from her. “I couldn’t sleep and so I thought I’d be better off just getting an earlier start to the day.”

“It’s nice to be able to see you before I leave,” the Reverend responded softly. “I don’t usually have the pleasure.”

I felt myself blush a little and I thought that Kate’s smile grew, although she turned back to the stove before I could tell for certain. 

“I’ll make you something to eat then.” She stepped into the pantry, leaving the Reverend and I alone. 

“I hope that the weather improves for you.” I nodded to the windows, slick with rain. 

“Oh I’m used to it by now. The weather here is just one more way God likes to test my commitment, I think,” he laughed. “One time a couple of years back I got stuck on the road because it snowed. I thought we were going to freeze to death.”

“Well, I’m very happy you didn’t.” Almost immediately, I felt like I had gone too far. “I mean, we’re all glad that nothing happened to you.”

His luminous eyes fixed on me. “I’m happy to be alive, of course. All the more so since it’s allowed me to meet you.”

My cheeks felt as if they were on fire and I was saved from having to respond by Kate, who returned with a new loaf of bread to make more toast. Her eyes passed swiftly over the two of us and I thought that she looked just a little disappointed by something. 

We all stayed silent while Kate fried up more toast, until the sound of a firm rap on the front door made us all jump. I was frightened, believing for a moment that something had come for me, that my demonic communion was about to be revealed. The Reverend and Kate, however, while they were startled by the sound, quickly realized what was happening. 

“Oh don’t let that scare you Miss,” Kate reassured me when she saw my face. “That’s just the coachman come to pick up the Reverend.”

“Indeed,” the man himself sighed with a smile, “I am needed outside this home, although I hate to leave its comforts.”

He gave Kate a little bow before he spoke again. “Thank you as always for taking care of me so well.” Then he turned to me and took one of my hands in both of his, pressing a kiss firmly against my knuckles. “And I’m delighted to have seen you before setting out.”

He gave me a playful little wink that made my whole body grow weak. 

“I shall be back a little earlier this week,” he declared on his way out, as if it were something he’d decided on the spot. “Late on Thursday night, most likely.”

“It will be a pleasure to have you here for the weekend, sir,” Kate beamed in response. 

I gave an awkward sort of smile, not wanting to look indifferent but at the same time not wanting to let on how thrilled I was at the idea of having days with him. 

“It’s wonderful seeing him so happy now,” Kate murmured. “And it’s you that brought this all about.”

“I didn’t do anything, really. I just followed William. It was by chance that he went to the cave where…”

“God doesn’t take chances,” she corrected me with a warm smile. “The boy would have died but for you and no one would have known where he’d gone. Fact is, this family’s needed that closure to move on since Mrs. Devitt disappeared and you helped bring that about.”

I shifted on my seat, feeling the ache at my core, the memento of the sins I’d committed in the name of bringing peace to the family. Perhaps I could be forgiven, I thought, because my intentions had been good. But then I thought of the lascivious pleasure I had taken in what I had done. Surely that damned me. 

By late afternoon that day, I was feeling the effects of the night before. I was exhausted and in pain and I was struggling to focus on the children, who seemed more energetic than usual. A couple of times I had to protect them from Susan’s wrath when they tripped her and knocked over the basket of washing she was attempting to carry. 

“Please, both of you, calm down!” I snapped, more harshly than I’d intended. 

“Oh no, Miss MIles is ill,” Sophia cried. She and William had spent a good portion of the day pretending to be doctors and diagnosing everyone. “We must make her better.”

Both of them scrambled up on the divan where I was seated and started prodding at me: pretending to take my pulse, or check my forehead for a fever, or look at my eyes. In fact, it was more of an excuse for both of them to curl up against me and to trick me into wrapping my arms around them. Before I knew it, William’s arms were wound around my waist and Sophia’s were around my neck as she placed a cool kiss to my cheek. The affection felt strange and a little unnerving, something that the always observant little girl noticed right away. 

“You don’t like to be touched, do you?” she asked sharply. 

“Oh, it’s not that.”

“It’s all right,” she said, without releasing me from her embrace. “Is there a reason you don’t like it?”

My mind seemed to release a thousand thoughts at once, like a murmuration of birds that momentarily blocked the sky before dissipating. I felt like I wanted to answer her, like there was an answer, but I couldn’t access it. 

“I… I suppose I’m not used to it.”

Sophia kissed my cheek more firmly than before. “It’s like you’ve never really had someone love you.”

William wriggled his way up so that his head rested on my shoulder. I felt flattered but also overwhelmed, like they were pinning me down in order to devour me. Nevertheless, I squeezed both of them close and enjoyed the happy giggles this elicited from them. Not for the first time, I marveled at Sophia’s keen mind: I hadn’t ever had someone show me kindness and affection the way that they did and, in fact, I wasn’t sure that I had ever been loved by anyone. Even hearing them say it felt strange. 

“Well goodness, what do we have here?” Kate’s cheery voice cut through the moment of affection. 

“I’m afraid I’m a little tired and I’ve been overwhelmed,” I moaned. “These two scientists were trying to revive me.”

“As much as I hate to interrupt this important work,” Kate said, playing along with the game that this was a gathering of professionals, “I need to request the assistance of one of these experts in the kitchen. The table needs to be laid.” Seeing that this wasn’t of much interest to either of the scientists, she added, “And I’m starting the Christmas pudding tonight, so I need someone to add the coins.”

William immediately jumped up when he heard that, leaving Sophia and I on the divan together. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered as soon as her brother and the cook had left. “We should never have asked you those things we did about unbaptized children.”

“Well, it was a bit of a surprise,” I mumbled. “Did the answers I gave you make sense?”

“Yes, absolutely. But I shouldn’t have asked. I’ve just always worried about Colin.”

“Who is Colin?”

“My- well, our- little brother,” she admitted, her voice filled with sadness. 

“You had another brother?” I was astonished that I had not heard of something so important. 

Sophia nodded solemnly. “He died.”

“I’m so sorry! What happened to him? When did he pass?”

“I don’t know,” she murmured, eyes filling with tears. “He just stopped coming.”

“What do you mean?”

“He never lived with us. I don’t know where he lived but he said that Mama took care of him.”

“He went somewhere with your mother?”

“After she disappeared, yes. He told me that she lived with him and that I shouldn’t worry about her.”

I couldn’t think of what to say next. How could I explain to this girl that her mother had almost certainly drowned the night that she disappeared? For that matter, could I even be sure of that? Was it possible that her mother had run off with another man? Was that why they had suspected that the Reverend had attacked and possibly killed her? “Sophia, does your father know that you spoke to this boy?”

She shook her lovely head a little. “Papa never even wanted us to speak about him. But it wasn’t my fault he’d come to see me.”

“Of course not,” I told her. 

“I wish I understood what happened to him,” she sighed. 

“I can well imagine. Even when we know that all things are in God’s hands, His work can  still be painful for us to bear.”

After dinner, when the children went upstairs to prepare for bed, I was still worrying about what Sophia had said and while I didn’t want to betray her trust, I felt like I needed to ask another adult about what she’d told me. It wasn’t as if she’d sworn me to secrecy, I told myself. She’d intimated that her father might have some issue with what she’d said but I wasn’t going to speak to him. 

“Did the Reverend and his wife have a third child?” I asked Kate as I helped her clear away the dishes. 

“No, Miss,” she responded, avoiding eye contact with me. 

“I was speaking to Sophia earlier and she said that there had been another baby, perhaps one that had died young. I was just surprised because I hadn’t heard of it before.”

Kate moved her lips as if she were about to repeat what she had said but I saw her shoulders slump. “I was afraid this might start up again,” she muttered.

“That what might start up?”

“I don’t need to tell you that it was terrible for the children to lose their mother at such a young age,” the cook sighed. “And especially with there being no real answer as to what happened. So for a while, Miss Sophia started to tell stories that she had a brother- Colin, she called him- and that her mother had run away with him. I suppose it was her way of coping with the loss but she became terribly obstinate about it and wouldn’t be told that it was all in her head.”

“And you thought that she might go back to those stories because Mrs. Devitt’s remains were discovered.”

She nodded. “I had sincerely hoped not. She was terribly defiant, even abusive, to her father sometimes and… well I’ve already told you enough of their mother for you to figure out why that hurt and worried him so.”

“He was worried that she’d inherited something of her mother’s alienation.”

“Yes. And may God forgive me for saying it, there are times I’ve thought he had reason to worry.”

“Well, perhaps it’s just a temporary turn for her in this case.” I locked my eyes on Kate’s with as much intensity as I could muster. “For the time being, it might be best that we not share this with the Reverend. At least, not unless she brings it up again.”

“Yes, Miss. I believe that would be for the best.”

I sat up in bed for much of the night, having exhausted every prayer I could muster to ask for protection for this fragile little home. I found myself jumping at the movement of every shadow, wondering if my demonic protector had come to taunt me, or to demand further acts of servility from me. I worried that somehow Sophia’s flight of fancy was his doing, that somehow he was putting these thoughts in her mind as a threat or a show of power: I felt that by showing me how easily he could hurt her, he was guaranteeing that I would do whatever he asked. 

Given my agitated state, my first thought when I heard faint noises coming from downstairs was that I was imagining things. But while I tried to focus on ignoring them, the sounds persisted and I finally realized that there was something stirring in the house. Wrapping myself in my robe, I descended to the floor below and approached the door to the children’s room. Opening it a little, I could see William asleep in his bed. I went to lean in a little further to confirm that his sister was in hers, but as I did, I heard a muffled scraping and rattling sound that emanated from the ground floor. Quickly, I sauntered to the stairs and slowly made my way down. 

I could make out very little in the darkness but I was able to follow the sounds to the front door, where I found Sophia fidgeting with the key and the handle. As I approached, I realized that she was walking in her sleep, unaware of where she was or what she was doing. I approached as quietly as I could, not wanting to startle her. 

“Sophia,” I whispered, getting no reaction. “Sophia, you need to come back to bed.”

A few seconds passed and finally I saw a change in her expression, enough to encourage me to lean in a little closer. 

“Sophia?”

She let her hand fall from the door key and pivoted her face to look at me. Her eyes were still remote and uncomprehending but I could tell that she was at least aware of my presence. 

“Will you let me take you back to bed?”

She frowned and gave me a little nod, allowing me to take her hand. It was icy and I immediately gathered her up against my body to warm her up again as I carried her back to her room. l laid her to rest wrapped up in her blankets without her ever fully awakening and I was pleased to see that William’s slumber was unbroken as I left them to their dreams. 

I was about to return to the attic when it occurred to me that I should make sure that she hadn’t actually managed to open the door. As it happened, it was good that I checked because it was ever so slightly ajar. I pushed it to and as I did, I saw something flutter to the ground. Picking it up, I realized it was a scrap of dark fabric, rough like sacking but thicker. 

Although I told myself it was probably nothing, I pulled the door back to see if there was something outside that would explain the presence of the cloth on our door. The moon was full and bright and illuminated everything in the yard so that my eyes took a moment to adjust. When they did, everything appeared peaceful, even the wavering of the tree branches in the wind. The gate was closed and the road was empty as far as I could see. It was only when I lowered my eyes that I saw the marks: three vertical lines scratched crudely into the stone before the door. 

I looked around wildly, even though I knew there was nothing to see. Always those same marks, never any clue as to their meaning. Whatever it was he sought to communicate, and I was certain I knew who was responsible, the message was not meant for us to understand. The thought of him playing his little game while Sophia hovered innocently on the other side of the door made me angry and I rubbed at the marks with the coarse scrap of fabric in my hand until I was satisfied that I could no longer see them. I took extra care to make sure that the door was locked before retreating to my chambers and once there, I sat close to the window for the remainder of the night, straining to pick out any sign that we were under imminent threat.

There were no further disturbances that night and the next morning, Sophia recalled nothing of her adventure. In fact, she seemed to find it funny when I told her what had happened. Nevertheless, I remained on edge throughout the day and when I had the opportunity to do so, I dropped the scrap of fabric I’d found the night before into the fire. I had never thought of myself as a superstitious person, but I wanted it gone from the house, never to return. 

[heyyyharry]

Bitter Pill

(from ‘Couple in Flat 102’)

…in which Y/N’s brother is in the hospital, and Harry just thinks too much.

wattpad link

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Y/N hadn't seen Jack since the talk about her wedding dress on Sunday. He took Monday off due to a business trip, and only replied to her thank you text message with a simple 'you're welcome', and that's it. So she expected to see her boss at work the next day in order to thank him in person, and pay him the money back for the gown, which he had insisted on her taking as a gift, but he was still her boss and therefore accepting it would be wrong.

Unfortunately, when Y/N arrived at work on Tuesday morning, once again, she found his desk empty.

"Kate, do you know where Ja—Mr. Coleman is?"

The vice president's assistant dropped the beam on her face as she looked around to make sure no one was listening. Then Kate leaned closer to whisper into Y/N's ear, telling her not to tell anyone about that, "he won't be in the office this week. His mother's in the hospital."

It was obvious that Jack wasn't the kind of man who liked to share about his personal life, the only time he'd mentioned his mother to Y/N was during their conversation in the café. But from the way he talked, Y/N could feel the great love he had for that woman, and so she thought right now he must be devastated. Jack would never abandon work for whatever reason, even if it was the weekend, or a holiday, or, as her co-workers used to joke, if the whole building was on fire. Y/N didn't know exactly how ill his mother was. Kate had only said that she'd passed out last night, and despite having regained consciousness, the hospital still refused to let her go home so soon. Nevertheless, the fact that Jack wouldn't be here this whole week already made it obvious that his mother's condition had taken quite a toll on him.

"Poor man, should we send his mother flowers?" Y/N asked Harry while petting their cat with one hand, and his hair with the other. They were watching an action movie on Netflix and she just couldn't concentrate; not only because the movie sucked but it was Harry's turn to pick one so she couldn't really complain, but also because she couldn't stop thinking about her brother as well as Jack's mother. Harry, on the other hand, was unable to take his eyes off the screen, not even for a second.

"She's gonna be fine, love." He sighed, snuggling his head into her bare shoulder. "But I think it's nice if you want to send flowers."

"Jack was very nice to us after all."

That short sentence immediately drew Harry's attention away from the on-going movie. He didn't need a reminder of how nice her boss was, because he already knew, and he hated to admit that it was bothering him more than it should. Even if Y/N refused to believe it, Harry was convinced that Jack had feelings for her, not just ordinary feelings, deep ones.

When Harry used to have a crush on Y/N, he would go out of his way to make sure she was happy and got what she wanted, even if he wasn't always gonna be a part of that joy. And that was exactly what Jack's doing now. Though he probably knew it wasa bad idea to fall for an engaged woman, he just couldn't help it and still did everything in his power to guarantee her happiness, even if it was with Harry and not him. Jack had never made a move on Y/N and seemed respectable, and just like Harry, he also wanted nothing but the best for her. So Harry really had no other reason to hate him besides the fact that they would do anything for the same woman. So now that Y/N started talking about that man again, Harry felt so uneasy that he couldn't continue watching the movie anymore. They never got to finish it though.

As soon as Y/N decided to pay attention to the screen again, she received a call from an unknown caller ID.

It was from a hospital.

The Hill Crest community hospital was one hour drive from where she lived, and it was already past midnight then, but she couldn't sit and wait until morning after they'd said her brother had been found in a car crash, and unconscious when they brought him in. Y/N's mind was empty, her heart was pounding like a drum. The girl was literally going insane as she threw on some clothes, wanting to go see her brother right away. She insisted on going there alone, but Harry didn't let that happen. He ended up giving her a ride, because after what had happened to her brother he needed to make sure she got there safely.

It was around two in the morning when they arrived. Y/N was already on the verge of tears as she rushed into the lobby like a mad woman, and asked the lady at the front desk about her brother's condition. In the car she had thought of the worst scenarios while praying for the best. So as soon as she heard from the nurse that Darren is still alive, and just regained consciousness, she couldn't help but dissolve in happy tears. Y/N asked if she was allowed to see him, and they say she was, but they need to talk to her about his general condition first.

The young couple followed a female doctor into a room where she showed them Darren's x-rays, and explained the severity of his injury, as well as how long it would take for him to recover. Then the woman talked about how the accident had happened. The more she said, the less Y/N believed. Maybe the girl was just in denial, thinking she knew her brother better than the people there. Maybe she didn't want to think she didn't really know him that well. Or maybe, she just didn't know how to feel about what she'd just found out. It hurt her enough to be here, now that she knew the reason why there'd been an accident, she was half angry, half perplexed.

Sighing, Y/N flopped down on the armchair by her brother's hospital bed, with Harry holding her shoulders to keep her calm. "I just talked to the doctor. You'll be lying here for months, Darren!"

"I know, kid. I'm also a doctor." Darren flashed her a broken smile because the stitches on his face made it hard for even such small movements.

"And an idiot," his sister replied, squeezing her own forehead. "Do you want me to call Emily?"

"No." Darren's reaction when Y/N brought up his wife made the young couple very confused as they exchange questioning looks.

"Well, she's gonna know eventually."

The long pause which followed what Harry had said told Y/N something was definitely wrong. She'd felt it since she received the hospital call about Darren's accident, only to find out later that he had been drunk driving. There was a reason he was her parents' favorite, he was the most responsible man she'd known. So him doing something so thoughtless and putting his life in danger was what she would never have expected.

"Emily and I..." Darren spoke at last. Neither Harry nor Y/N could tell the pain in his voice was physical or emotional, or it could be a terrible mixture of both kinds. "She's been sleeping with another man."

"What?" Y/N sat up straight and Harry's grip on her shoulders tightened to keep her in place. "How...did you find out?"

"She fucking admitted herself. Can you believe it?" Darren struggled to release a laugh, more like he was laughing at himself for being stupid enough to end up in this situation. But Y/N knew it wasn't his fault that Emily was unfaithful, he truly loved that woman.

Harry insisted on going so Y/N could chat with her brother, even after Darren had said it would be okay if he stayed. Harry just thought it would be easier for Darren to talk about what happened when it was just him and Y/N. He told them he's go buy some snacks and be right back, then kissed her once, and left the room.

It wasn't a very busy night in the hospital so Harry didn't expect to run into a friend or even an acquaintance here. However, as soon as he stepped into the lift, a familiar figure dashed inside right before the door was closed. At first, Harry didn't remember having met the man before, it wasn't his fault because it had been only one time, and they hadn't said a word to each other then.

Harry politely stepped aside so this guy could press a button. But the moment they made eye-contact, it only took one second for them to recognize each other. Both were equally surprised.

"Hey, you're—"

"Jack. I work with Y/N. We've met before." This time, unlike the last, Jack gave Harry an amiable smile as he shook his hand.

Harry'd had weirder encounters than this. He recalled that time, back in university, he had been partnered up with a girl he'd hooked up with who'd loathed him deeply. And so he ended up doing all the work for that class because she'd refused to help or even communicate. He thought it was already the most awkward moment ever in his life. But this definitely topped it all. He looked at the digital signage above the door, waiting for the number to jump to '1' while silently cursing the lift for moving so slowly.

Suddenly, Jack spoke up, "why are you here? Is...is Y/N okay?"

"She's fine." Harry cleared his throat, not very surprised when Jack's icebreaker question was about his fiancé. This guy cannot be anymore obvious, can he?  "Her brother was in a car crash."

"Jesus! Is he okay?"

"He's gonna be here for months but he's better now...How's your mother?"

At first Jack was taken aback by Harry's question, then he soon realized how Harry got that information and let out a small laugh along with a sigh. "I told my assistant not to tell anyone but she still did." He paused a bit, pulling his eyebrows together. "The doctor said she was doing better so I hope she's gonna be alright. Thanks for asking by the way."

Harry cracked a friendly smile, then says he wished that for her as well. The conversation stopped there. Just like that. Neither of them made an attempt to prolong the dialogue, which seemed to be facing a dead end anyway. Between two men who were in love with the same woman, there was obviously a lot to discuss, but at the same time, nothing at all.

Harry didn't need a long heart-to-heart conversation with Jack to believe everything he already knew is true. As soon as Jack opened his mouth and asked if Y/N was okay, Harry could see it in his eyes that he genuinely cared about her and would be truly hurt had the answer been 'no'. Even though he trusted his fiancé with his entire life, when another man had such strong feelings for your woman, no matter how decent he was, you couldn't help but feel troubled by his affection for her.

The lift stopped on the second floor, and Jack exited after having said goodbye. Not until then did Harry suddenly remember the wedding dress thing. He took the last opportunity to quickly thank Jack for it, but never received a reply, just one last cordial grin, before the door shut between them two.

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Jack showed up at work the next day, unexpectedly, even when nobody had informed him about the emergency meeting beforehand.

The clients had disapproved their entire content plan for March, the deadline was near, and everyone was freaking out. Normally Jack would be the one to solve most of the company's problems, but since he had made it clear that he didn't want to be bothered during this week, no one dared to mention a word about this to him. That was why seeing the man enter the conference room was a huge shock for every single person here.

The young vice president calmly laid down his laptop on the table, and asked Kate to briefly summarize what had been requested in the email from their clients. He acted like nothing was wrong, which successfully had everyone in this room fooled, everyone but Kate and Y/N, who knew the truth.

For the rest of the day, Y/N tried not to think too much about Jack being back at work and acting so out of character. Sure he still acted like a self-centered know-it-all during the meeting, Y/N didn't know how to describe it, but she just knew that wasn't like him. Every time she glanced into his office, she either saw him on the phone talking to someone, while looking like the world's coming to an end, or him sitting quietly at his desk, with his head in his hands, like the world had already ended. He wasn't as composed as he wanted other people to think.

"Come in."

Y/N slowly opened the door to the VP's office, feeling nervous as she stepped in and found Jack still typing something on his laptop, not giving at least one look at her. His hair was unkempt and his tie was loose, she thought after consuming that much coffee during the day he would look more energetic than the way he looked now, 'a literal mess' she would say.

"Everyone's gone home. Why are you still here?" she asked quietly, marching closer to his desk, still receiving not a single eye-contact from the man.

"Because none of you could get the job done, that's why."

Y/N was actually appalled by the attitude she received, because she had expected the same Jack who'd comforted her and sent her a wedding dress, not this insensible man he'd pretended to be.

"This morning before you showed up, we'd got everything under c—"

"If you'd got everything under control..." He pointed a finger at her and finally lifted his face up "...then the clients wouldn't have directly called me."

"Bu—"

"Just...Just go home alright? I can handle this." He waved his hand to the door in annoyance. But instead of following his order like an employee should, Y/N pulled out a chair to sit down in front of Jack by his desk, leaving him startled.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"Stop asking questions, work's not gonna finish itself!" Ignoring the look on her boss' face, Y/N took one of his pens and turned his laptop screen a bit towards her so she could read the document on it. She heard him chuckle and say something about her acting more like a boss than he was.

"Okay then." The dark-haired man sighed in content as he relaxed his shoulders and checked the time on his watch. "Let's get this done so you can leave me alone."

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Harry got off work early and drove to the hospital to see Darren. The doctors wanted to do some tests for him and they required at least one family member to be in presence. And since Y/N was stuck at work, because the clients couldn't stop nagging about new deadlines, as well as old ones, Harry told her not to worry, that he would be here for her brother, and pick her up from work afterwards.

Now that everything was almost finished, one of the nurses told Harry to wait here with Darren and when she returned he'd be free to go. As the woman left the room, Harry sat down in the armchair by Darren's bed, and told the older man it was not big of a deal when he kept thanking him for everything.

"She's so lucky to have you." Darren tried to put on a smile. "That kid's been through a lot. She always gives, and most people just don't appreciate her."

"It's me who's lucky to have her," Harry disagreed, telling Darren that there'd been a tremendous change in his life ever since they first met, and he honestly couldn't wait to start a new chapter with the love of his life as an official married couple.

"So have you two decided the wedding date yet?"

Harry didn't even hesitate when he answered that question, saying, "yes, we're getting married in June."

"June?!" Although Darren was unable to move most of the muscles on his face due to the pain it might cause, Harry still saw how shocked he was, which was not really surprising, because Niall and Layla had reacted the same way when he broke the news to them. "That's three months from now! It normally takes at least ten months to a year to plan a wedding, kid! It's not a birthday party!"

"We're not gonna do it the traditional way," Harry replied while beaming. "It's just gonna be a small ceremony and dinner party with a few guests, close friends and family only."

Darren appeared more relaxed now that he'd got the answer, but he still seemed a bit puzzled. "That doesn't sound like Y/N, she's obsessed with wedding planning."

"Tell me about it!" Harry rolled his eyes playfully. "I was surprised when she suggested that we have a small wedding. But it does take away a lot of stress, you know, with all the big decisions you'd have to make, the theme, the music and everything."

Darren chuckled slightly as he heard that. "When I was getting married, she kept begging me to let her plan my wedding. Obviously I said no because I didn't want her to neglect school and take in too much responsibility." When it got to this part, the atmosphere in the room, as well as Darren's cheerfulness, died down at once. Harry felt like it was his fault, maybe he shouldn't have ranted about his happy soon-to-be-married life with Y/N when her brother's marriage was falling apart and he was lying there, in the hospital.

So he apologized for it, however, Darren told him he shouldn't be sorry. "You're marrying my little sister, Harry. We're a family now, we can freely talk about this kind of stuff." There was a long indecisive pause before the man went on, "I feel so bad for telling Y/N about Emily, the kid really adored her."

"You don't have to feel bad about anything, Darren. None of it was your fault."

"But it was..." Darren shook his head. "Actually, everything, from start to finish, was half my fault."

Harry wanted to tell him he was wrong, that he'd done everything he could have and it was Emily's choice to betray his loyalty. However, he felt like the man'd got a lot more to say. So instead of speaking his mind, he stayed quiet and allowed Darren to begin..

"We got together at a very bad time in her life," he remembered. "Her long-term boyfriend had just left her, she was a single mother. She hadn't met anyone who treated her better, so she assumed I was the one that she should spend the rest of her life with." The shivering in his voice was almost heart-wrenching. And Harry thought Darren's happiness might've just ended with those three sentences.

"But I'm not her soulmate like we both thought I was, I've never been the one true love of her life. So when her real love came..." The man paused to exhale "...she was already my wife. Emily soon realized she made a mistake by marrying me, and it was too late. It hurt me so much when she told me the truth, but that was when I knew she didn't love me anymore. I had to let her go. It's so sad because she's my everything and I'm not that for her anymore. But if she's happier with the other guy, who am I to keep her by my side?"

Harry knew it was Darren's story, it had nothing to do with him nor it would ever affect his own life, yet for some reasons he couldn't explain, he was afraid.

Before al this, Y/N couldn't stop talking about how much she admired her brother's marriage, she had also made Harry believe Darren and Emily were meant to be together, the definition of true love. But the bitter pill to swallow was, loving someone with all your heart and soul and having them love you back wouldn't guarantee that they'd forever feel the same. Even though it was just one brief thought that came and left his mind like a breeze, Harry was worried that someday, like Emily, Y/N might meet someone else and realize Harry was not her soulmate, then she might regret marrying him so soon.

And the possibility of her leaving him one day was unbearable to think of.

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Jack couldn't remember the last time he felt this way. He was never the kind of person who thought highly of himself (not all the time at least), but he rarely got nervous around girls no matter how gorgeous they were. The fact that all of his past relationships had been with women who were either older than him or at the same age, and now he was getting sweaty palms being alone with a girl three years younger than him, gave him a headache, which he might blame on stress and caffein. But he knew it was all her.

Y/N didn't notice his stare, she kept her eyes on her laptop screen, trying to figure out why the costs for online ads had got so big. Jack hated to admit this, but he thought she was adorable when she touched her nose way too often, and furrowed her eyebrows as she concentrated too hard. Then he started smiling subconsciously, only to stopped himself when he remembered that she was already engaged, and her fiancé was actually a nice person.

Speaking of which...

"Isn't Harry coming to pick you up?" he asked, pulling her back to reality as she blinked at him a few times, making him smile.

"He's a bit busy so he's gonna be here late." She didn't tell him exactly why Harry was busy. Knowing Jack's mother was also in the hospital, she didn't want to mention her brother right now. Ironically, Jack ended up being the one to bring that up.

"How's your brother by the way?" He seemed concerned, then quick to add, "Also, I ran into Harry last night, great lad."

"Yeah, he told me." She chuckled slightly. "My brother is fine, thanks for asking. As for Harry, he said he didn't have a chance to properly thank you for the dress."

"No, he did thank me." Jack shook his head. "But there's really no need since you insisted on paying me back the money."

"It's wrong to accept such an expensive gift from anyone, not just your boss." She raised an eyebrow at Jack, flashing him a smile. "But honestly, I cannot thank you enough for getting me the same dress that I lost to someone else. How did you—"

All of a sudden, Y/N's question got interrupted by the sound of Jack's ringtone. He put one finger up, telling her to wait as he took this call, which seemed to be important because of how he reacted after seeing the caller ID. Y/N couldn't hear what the person on the other end of the line says to him, but she held his eye-contact the entire time. She hadn't seen this kind of look since the day Harry got the news his stepfather had passed away. Jack didn't need to say a single word to let Y/N knew what was happening. When he hung up, without saying one word to the caller, he almost forgot how to breathe.

"Hey..." Y/N slightly touched his arm. "Are you...okay?"

The man rose from his seat, causing the girl to do the same. He stood with his back facing her and demanded her to leave him alone. He sounded so serious, yet at the same time, broken. He expected her to already be at the door when he took a deep breath and repeated the same sentence for the second time, only louder. But she was still there. Why is she still there?

"Y/N, just...leave. Go home."

Y/N knew she should listen, but at the same time, she could imagine what it was like to be in his shoes. When she rushed into the hospital demanding to see her brother, she thought he wouldn't make it, and she wouldn't have made it either had Harry not been by her side. If she was Jack now, the last thing she would want was to be left alone. So despite everything he had just said, she took a deep breath, and reached out to touch his shoulder. Suddenly, he turned around, swiftly locking his fingers around her wrist, and she was in utter shock. Her eyes opened wide, staring right into his, which were already filled with tears. When they first met, she never would've though one day she would get to see her boss sad, let alone cry, never would've expected it to be in a situation like this.

Without saying a word, he dropped his head down onto her shoulder and burst into quiet sobs, arms came to wrap around her waist. And so she hugger him back and keeps telling him it was gonna be alright, even if she knew those words were meaningless to him now. She just didn't have the heart to stay quiet and let the heartbreaking sounds he made take over.

While Y/N was comforting her boss, who'd just lost the biggest love of his life, Harry was waiting right outside in his car for her. He kept checking his watch and wondering what was taking her so long because he wasn't that early. But as soon as he saw her walk out of the building with Jack, and they stopped to share a long hug before saying goodbye, there was a strange feeling of sadness that he couldn't describe in words.

"Is everything alright, love?" He asked her after she had got into the car and kissed him on the lips. She looked so sad, still gazing at the man who was watching them from the outside.

"Jack's mother passed away..." Y/N gave her fiancé a frown as she buckled her seatbelt. "He was crying so I stayed to comfort him."

The rest of the drive back was weighed down by silence. Harry tried to keep his eyes on the road, but every once in a little while he took a quick glance at her, trying to read what was on her mind. Her hand remained resting on his knee but she was looking outside from the window on her left, preoccupied with something else. Harry was literally on the edge of his seat on the entire way home.

His biggest fear almost came to life when they arrived at the flat, he walked into the living room but she lingered at the front door. Her voice was quiet, yet loud enough to break his heart.

"I think we should postpone the wedding."

He was paralysed for almost two seconds before finding the courage to ask her why in a trembling voice. That was when she knew he was afraid she might be doubting her decision to marry him, so she released a faint laugh and approached him so she could hold him tight.

"This has nothing to do with you and me, love," she reassured him, placing her hands at the back of his neck to pull back a little bit so they look at each other in the eye. "My brother's recovery is gonna take more than three months, and...not to mention the thing with Emily...I don't want to invite him to our wedding when he's got divorce papers to sign."

Harry nodded understandingly, then took a deep breath and laid his hands on her sides. "It's okay, if that's what you want."

"You're not mad at me?"

"Of course not. I want the best for you and for your brother too," he replied and leaned down to kiss the tip of her nose. When he pulled away, Harry was startled to see her burst out crying. His first reaction was to cup her cheeks and repeatedly asked her if he had said something wrong.

"No, no...I...You didn't..." She sobbed, shaking her head as he wiped away her tears. "I just love you so much."

Harry didn't expect that at all. As much as he hated to see her in tears, he found that moment adorable and amusing still, so he tossed his head back, laughing, then pulled her close. "Shhh, stop it, princess. You're gonna make me cry."

"We're still getting married okay?" She mumbled into his chest, smiling through the tears. She'd been thinking about this decision on the drive back home, second guessing what his reaction would be. She had expected him to be upset since her brother and his wife had been the reason she didn't want to get married in three months like they'd planned. She had expected something else, not this, not him telling her he could wait without even knowing how long it was gonna take for this whole thing to be settled.

"It doesn't matter how long." He kissed her forehead. "I can wait."

Those three words caused her to once again withdraw from the grip of his arms so that she could see and caress his beautiful face. "Thank you for everything," she whispered to him. "For helping my brother, for being here, for loving me. I don't think anyone's gonna love me as much as you do."

"But..." Harry knew he should shut up before he said something stupid, but he ended up saying the stupid thing anyway, "if...there's someone else...better than me, and loves you just as much, will you still want me then?"

Y/N lifted an eyebrow, giving him a funny look as she asked inbetween soft giggles, "are you insane? What are you talking about? Did Darren say something to you?"

"No," he lied. "Never mind, it's just a dumb question."

"It is! Don't you ever doubt me again!" She playfully stroked the top of his head, then remembered something important. "Wait! Where's the cat?!"

"Relax, she's with Nam."

"Nam wasn't there when we came in."

"He's probably gossiping with the dog lady on the second floor again. 'Working'." Harry's air-quotes made Y/N laugh as he kissed her on the cheek, saying he'd come downstairs to get their kitten. But before he made it to the hallway, she stopped him in his tracks.

"Husband."

"Hmm?" He turned around, eyebrows raised, lips pressed together.

"Nothing." She bit back a smile, shaking her head. "I just wanted to call you that."

The sound of that word from her lips never failed to leave Harry grinning like the Cheshire Cat, he exhaled and rolled his eyes in response. "Wife," he said, emphasizing the sweet title with a firm nod, then didn't forget to send her a wink before walking out.

[lovemesomerafael]

No One Else                                            Chapter 6:  In A Dark Tunnel

Source:  @eighthmark​

Chapters 1-5    Read it on AO3

TARU has a list of Mary’s computer searches.  It immediately becomes clear to Tom Hensler that the searches are the key to what’s happened to Kate, and to finding her.  The problem is, there are hundreds of them.  

Mary has searched drugs, abduction methods, abandoned places in and around New York City, methods of incapacitation, and methods of keeping a person unconscious for long periods of time.  While finding the searches is fairly simple, with this amount of material to go through, what Hensler needs to know is the amount of time Mary spent on each site she visited. That has proven to be more difficult, but TARU’s working on it.  

Mary has spent much more time on abandoned locations than anything else, and seems to have researched several of them fairly thoroughly.  She’s also spent a great deal of time on methods of incapacitation.  It looks like she may have visited some of the abandoned locations she’s researched, because she’s looked up driving directions to at least eight of them.  

Hensler calls Carisi.  He’s not looking forward to this conversation.  

 **************

“Mrs. Duderon, we think Mary might have done something to Kate, taken her somewhere.  Can you think of anywhere she might go?  Anywhere she might have mentioned?”  Sonny has to keep himself from grabbing Mary’s mother and shaking the information out of her. The longer Kate has been missing, the more fearful he has become.

“Well, of course, she never said anything to me about kidnapping anyone! You can’t think I’d go along with something like that.”

“No one’s saying that, Ma’am, we’re just trying to find this missing woman.” Fin assures her.  “Have you always lived in Manhattan?  Is there any other part of the city Mary’s familiar with?”

“Oh, no, we never lived in Manhattan when my husband was alive.  We lived in the Bronx, near his work.  He was a foreman at the Carnation Brick Plant, you know, before it closed down.”

“Uh-huh,” Fin says.  “Can you show us on a map where you lived?  The areas Mary would be familiar with?”

She does, although she’s nowhere near what either of them would call precise.  As she’s looking at the map, however, she points to a street, Tully Avenue, and muses, “She did mention something…”

“What?  What did she mention?”  

Mrs. Duderon starts a bit at Sonny’s intensity.

“Well, it was nothing.  She just said something about how much Tully Avenue has changed.  I didn’t think anything of it at the time, but now that I do, it did kind of sound as though she might have been there recently.”

Sonny’s phone vibrates and he looks at the screen.  Tom Hensler.  

“Fin, I need to take this,” he says, excusing himself and stepping out the front door to stand on the stoop of the boarding house.

Hensler tells him what TARU has found, and that they’re working to narrow the searches to those upon which Mary spent the most time.  

“That kinda sounds like she’s keepin’ her somewhere.  Like she’s alive,” Sonny says, his voice tight.  What the hell had that sick bitch done to Kate?  What kind of hellhole was she in, and in what condition?

“It does to me, too.  I got a list of the abandoned places she got directions to.”

Sonny has a thought.  “Any of them the Carnation Brick Plant?”

After a rustle of paper, Hensler responds.  “Nope.  No directions.  But she did search it.”

“Have TARU focus on that.  They lived in the Bronx and her dad used to work there, but her mom says it’s closed down. See if it might be abandoned.  She might not have gotten directions because she already knows how to get there.”

“Copy.  I’ll get back to you.”

They spend another half hour with Eleanor Duderon, but she can tell them nothing further.

It’s becoming harder and harder for Sonny not to think about what might be happening to Kate right now.  And on the heels of those dark thoughts come the monstrous possibilities, including the worst possibility of all.  Sonny doesn’t know how he will survive losing Kate, this time forever.  He chokes down a sob as he and Fin rush to their car.  

 **********

“Tell me about you and Sonny,” Amanda says to Mary.  

“Sonny is wonderful.  I love him.”

“Yeah, I know, but I’m interested in the two of you together.  How does he feel about you?”

Mary smiles and her eyes get a faraway look.  “He loves me.”

“Then what’s he doing with Kate?”

“She left him.”

“What happens when she comes back?”

“She won’t.”

“OK, so let’s assume you’re right.  What happens then?  Are you and Sonny going to date?  Move in together?  Get married?”

“We’re getting married.  He’s going to buy us a little house.  It won’t be much, but we don’t need much.”

The creep factor ratchets up as Mary begins to lose herself in her fantasies.

“OK, so let’s say all of that happens.  You and Sonny get married, you’re living in your little house, and then Kate shows up.  What happens then?”

Mary begins to frown, then scowl, as she considers the stink bomb Amanda’s just thrown into her fantasy world.  “Well, she won’t.  She… won’t.”

“And if she does?”

“I don’t want to talk about Kate.”

“I do want to talk about Kate, Mary.  That’s why you’re here.  Tell me why Kate won’t show up.  She’s very resourceful, you know.  She’s a cop, like Sonny was.  She’s smart.”

“I don’t care.”

“Is the reason you don’t care because she dead, Mary?”

The blunt question pulls Mary out of the last of her dreams and she focuses harshly on Amanda Rollins.  

“I didn’t kill her.”

“I think you did.  I think that’s why you’re so sure she’s not coming back.  Which means you’ll go to prison and you’ll never be with Sonny. He’ll hate you.”

“He will not!  He loves me! I didn’t kill her!  It’s not my fault what happens to her…”  

Again, Mary catches herself.  

“What’s that mean, Mary?  It’s not your fault what happens to her.  What do you mean by that?”

“Nothing.  I don’t have anything to do with that Kate.  I hate her.  I don’t want to talk about her.”

“Because you killed her.”

“No, I did not!”

“Yes, you did.  And Sonny is going to hate you for it.  You’ll never be with him.  Your whole idea of getting married, and a little house?  It’s going to be you, all alone in prison, and you’ll never see him again.  He’ll be living with his beloved memories of Kate, and if he ever thinks of you, it’ll be with disgust.  Because you killed the woman he loves.”

“Stop saying that!  I didn’t kill her!  She left him! She’s not dead, she’s just gone!”

“Gone where, Mary?”

But Mary begins to cry again and won’t say anything more.

 ***********

The last of the three men with restraining orders against Mary Duderon lives in the South Bronx.  He’s different from the others.  He’s quiet, a little sad – a reed-thin white man in his forties with little hair left on the top of his head who looks and acts much older than his age.  He’s not happy to be talking about his experience with Mary, but he’s willing to try to help.  His marriage was ruined by Mary’s obsession with him, and he appears not to have recovered.

“My wife, she didn’t believe that this woman could be so convinced she was in love with me if I didn’t give her any reason to.  She never trusted me after that.  She left me right after I got the restraining order, so I just let it lapse.  I didn’t care what happened to me after that.  And I didn’t think Mary would hurt me.”

There’s something…  

“Mr. Trent, did you ever see Mary after that?  After you got the restraining order and your wife left?”  

Sonny looks at Fin.  He’s not sure what Fin is getting at, but it’s clear from Arthur Trent’s reaction that, whatever Fin’s hunch is, it’s a good one.

“I don’t know what…  Well, I…” Arthur Trent runs his hand through the sparse hair on the side of his head and looks at the formica table at which they sit in his shabby little flat.  

“It’s OK, Mr. Trent.  This woman, she’s a predator.  Like we said, we think she may have something to do with the disappearance of a cop. So if you know something about that, now’s the time to tell us.”

“Please, Mr. Trent,” Sonny adds.  “If you have any information that could help us find her...”  

Sonny’s bloodshot eyes and the emotion in his voice register with Arthur Trent, and he decides to come clean.

“OK, I did see her a couple times after that.  She hung around here, I’d see her watching my apartment.  I was so upset about my wife leaving, the idea of this crazy lady watching me just seemed like it didn’t really matter anymore. But I was mad.  I was really mad at her for breaking up my marriage.  That’s why…”

“That’s why…”  Fin prompts.

“OK, OK, fine.  One night, I come home from work and she’s in my apartment.  Not this one, I moved here so she couldn’t find me.  An apartment about ten blocks from here.  She had one of those things, whaddaya call ‘em, they shoot you full of electricity?  You cops use ‘em.”

“A taser?”  Sonny offers.

“Yeah, one of those.  I was so surprised, she just jumped out at me, and then I was so mad she was in my house… I didn’t really think.  I just reacted.  I didn’t mean to hurt her, I just wanted to get away from her.”

“It’s OK, Mr. Trent,”  Fin soothes. “You’re allowed to defend yourself, especially in your own home.  So she’s in your apartment, she has a taser, what happens next?”

“I hit her.  I just reacted, I swear!  I lashed out and I hit her, and I pushed her out the door and I locked it and she ran away.  I haven’t seen her since.  For a long time, I watched out for her.  I didn’t know what she would do.  But she never came back.”

“OK.  Did you report this to the police?”  Sonny is sickened.  A taser?

“Of course not!  I thought… I mean, I hit her.  I thought I’d be in trouble.”

“OK, Mr. Trent,” Fin says, putting a hand on his shoulder.  “That’s all right.  Anything else you can remember?  Anything else you can tell us about what happened?”

“Well, there was one thing.  I think it scared me more than the taser.  She had a wheelchair.  Not, like, a normal wheelchair.  It was one of those skinny ones, like firefighters use to carry people down the stairs?  One of those.  It was parked right outside my door.  She grabbed it and ran away when I locked her out.”

Sonny almost can’t think now.  He sits, trying to digest the possibility that Mary used this same method to abduct Kate. There are a lot of reasons that isn’t likely – Kate wouldn’t be any easier to subdue than Mr. Trent had been – but abduction is a whole lot better scenario than that Mary has simply murdered Kate and hidden her body.  Sonny turns this new information around and around in his head, fitting it in with the other information they have, scant as it is.

Some pieces start to click together.

 ************

“Well, you know what, Mary, I was Sonny’s partner for over five years.  I care about him.  So you can cry all you want, but even if Sonny did love you, I wouldn’t let you near him.  He’s gonna know you killed Kate, because I’m gonna tell him.  He’ll listen to me –“

“Noooooooooo!”  Mary’s wild animal cry is accompanied by slamming her hands down on the table.  The mask she’d worn is now completely fallen from her, and she’s wild-eyed and fierce, baring her teeth as she shouts, “You can’t do that!  Sonny loves me!  I didn’t kill stupid Kate!  If she dies, it’s not my fault.  I just got her out of the way!  I didn’t kill her!”

Amanda is out of her chair now, leaning over Mary.  “What did you do, Mary?  Prove to me you didn’t kill her.  Tell me where she is.”

“No! She’s gone and that’s all that matters. I didn’t kill her.  Sonny is going to marry me, and we’re getting a little house, and-“

“Not when I tell him you killed his girlfriend.  Never gonna happen.  You hear me, Mary?  That is never… gonna… happen.”  Amanda drags out the last three words, injecting as much smugness as possible into each syllable.  

When Mary lunges at Amanda, she ends up throwing herself headlong onto the floor of the interrogation room as Amanda just sidesteps the entirely predictable move. Olivia rushes into the room, but doesn’t interfere as Amanda pulls Mary’s arms behind her back and cuffs her.  

“Tell me,” Amanda hisses into Mary’s ear.  “Tell me where she is.  Tell me now, or I swear I will make Sonny believe you killed her, no matter what you really did.”

“Nooooo!”

“Last chance.”  Amanda reaches into her pocket and pulls out her cell phone.  “Tell me where Kate is or I’m calling Sonny right now and telling him you confessed to killing Kate.”

“You can’t!  I didn’t!”

Amanda makes sure Mary sees her push the button on her phone, and sees Sonny’s name and picture come up.  

Sonny answers and Amanda puts him on speaker.  “Sonny?”  Amanda asks.

“Yeah, Rollins, what is it?”

“Noooooooooo!  Sonny, I didn’t kill her!”  Mary is writhing on the ground, trying to get up and fighting the handcuffs.  “She’s not dead!  I wouldn’t do that!”

“Where is Kate, Mary?”  Amanda shouts.  “You killed her.  Sonny, Mary killed-“

“She’s not dead!  She just can’t get out!  I didn’t kill her, Sonny, you have to believe me!”

“He doesn’t have to believe you, Mary,” Amanda urges.  “He won’t, unless you prove it.  Tell us where she is.”

Sonny’s voice comes through the speaker of Amanda’s phone.  After their long partnership, he understands exactly what Amanda is doing.  “I don’t believe you, Mary.  Only way I’ll believe you is if I see her myself.  You tell me where Kate is, then I’ll believe you didn’t kill her. Otherwise, I’ll know you did.”

It’s very difficult to understand Mary’s words through the tears and whining, especially as she’s still struggling to escape the handcuffs.  But Sonny does.  He’s been half-expecting her to say that she’s somehow managed to imprison Kate at the old brickworks where her father was a foreman, and Mary’s barely comprehensible words confirm it.  Sonny begins barking orders at Amanda, the rhythmic rise and fall of his voice evidence that he is running.  

Olivia is already on the phone summoning help to the old brickworks.

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

Fin holds on for his life as Sonny weaves through traffic, siren screaming and lights flashing.  Technically, Carisi shouldn’t be driving, since he’s no longer NYPD, but Fin has not reached this age without learning some rules of basic survival.  One of those rules is, when a man has just learned that his girlfriend is being held in an abandoned brickworks and he tells you he’s driving, he’s driving.  Not normally a praying man, Fin finds himself using the Lord’s name frequently and passionately during the half hour it takes them to reach the factory in the Bronx.  It’s not so bad as they’re screaming down the Cross-Bronx Expressway, but on the surface streets, Fin sees his life – and that of several pedestrians - flash before him several times.

The Carnation brick plant is not one building, but rather several buildings huddled together in a rough U shape with a paved central area.  All are, not surprisingly, made of brick.  A massive building several stories tall, with huge, old, many-paned windows forms the centerpiece.  It’s flanked by two smokestacks, one much larger than the other, but both seeming twice the height of the central building.  

The brickworks has been abandoned for a while, as evidenced by the weeds growing through cracks in the pavement and the presence of ivy or some other creeping plant staging a slow-motion ambush of the buildings.  Sonny squeals the tires as he pulls through a gate in the high, razor-wire-topped metal fencing surrounding the plant, joining a fleet of emergency vehicles already parked haphazardly in the central, paved area.  Firefighters and police are being directed by a white-shirted policeman in a hat with shiny gold braid across the front who appears to be in charge of the scene.  He is pointing with a two-way radio, and as Sonny and Fin approach, they see a team of two firefighters follow his finger to run toward a round building that resembles a fat silo.  

The central building has large openings with wooden double doors at intervals along the side facing them, one of which is open.  Due to the size of the building, they look smaller than they actually are, which is plenty big enough for Sonny to drive the squad car through into the building.  He sees that two police cruisers are already inside and, as he opens his door to leap out, he can hear the scene commander outside asking, in a shriek, who the idiot is who thinks he’s at the Talladega Speedway.  Fin cares. Sonny does not.  He ignores Fin as he tells him he’s going to check with the scene commander, and sprints over to the nearest uniform.  

“Where do you got people searchin’?”  

The uniform, a black woman who seems a little afraid of him, answers quickly. “There’s a bunch of offices up there-“ she points to a metal stairway that leads to a mezzanine of sorts, with several windows, all broken, looking down on the cavernous, graffiti-laden space.  “We got guys up there, and the rest of us are tryin’ to find all the nooks and crannies. That thing-“ she points to what appears to be a building within the building, “has fire boxes all along it. They’re lookin’ in all those.”

Sonny doesn’t know anything about brick manufacture, but he can see what look like oversized railroad tracks built into the floor.  Many of the rusted, metal tracks lead around the very long, rectangular interior building.  He sees uniformed cops crawling around in several outcroppings that look like brick lean-tos in the middle of it.  Each has a heavy metal door, all of which are standing open.  They look like what they are – fireplaces of a sort.  The long building-within-a-building must be two hundred yards long, he thinks.  What is that thing?

“It’s a tunnel kiln,” Fin says, appearing beside him.  “My Granddad used to work here.  They run the bricks through there.  It’s heated by a bunch of fires, and when the bricks come out the other side, they’re ready.”

“How do the bricks get in?”

“There’s big-ass doors on each end.  I’ll show ya’.”  

They sprint to one side of the gigantic building past massive pallets, some intact but most not, scattered here and there on the floor, and Sonny sees that the tracks intersect and run into the end of the long tunnel kiln.  The opening is blocked by a massive slab of concrete that looks like it lifts and lowers on huge girders that form a square arch over the entrance.  It appears to be a colossal door to the tunnel kiln.  The slab of concrete is so large that there are girders framing it, and crisscrossing it in what looks like a giant double X.  The girders were painted blue at one time, although there is as much rust and chipped paint as blue color left.

The floor is covered with a thick layer of of dust, dirt, and debris, and it is clear that several vehicles have been in here over time.  What Sonny notices, however, is that the tracks that look the freshest seem to go into the tunnel.  He walks closer.  The tracks don’t stop at the door.  They go right up to it.  Somehow, this massive concrete slab can be made to lift, exposing the entrance to the long kiln.  Without a word, Sonny and Fin move to opposite sides of the enormous door and begin exploring. Within a few minutes, Fin shouts that he’s found something.  

Embedded in the girder on one side of the tunnel is a square panel with two raised buttons the size of silver dollars and a larger, central button that is raised higher than the other two.  The central button is covered with a faded red plastic disc.  The other two buttons are covered with white discs, each of which features a chipped black arrow.  The buttons appear to be lit, as though there is power to the switch.  Sonny noticed coming in that there appeared to be power to the building, probably due to the need for security lighting.  This place appears to be broken into frequently.  

“What the hell,” Sonny says, and pushes the up button.  He’s not going to take the time to ask for permission.  If he has to, he can ask for forgiveness later.

The noise of the gigantic slab being lifted along the rusty girders is so loud everyone in the building covers their ears.  Not only is there the sound of old machinery clanking, there is also the scream of ungreased rollers being dragged unwillingly up filthy, rusted tracks. But it lifts.  As it does, Fin runs back to their squad car and retrieves two long, heavy flashlights.  He hands one to Sonny, and as soon as the door lifts enough for them to duck through, they’re inside.

Sonny is frantic, calling desperately for Kate, shining his flashlight along the floor.  It is pitch black inside; the dim light penetrating the filthy windows of the building barely reaches a few feet inside the tunnel.  He begins to jog, shining his light to one side while Fin takes the other. The vehicle tracks continue in the dirt on the floor.  There are a lot of disturbances in the dirt, mostly footprints that crisscross one another and large spots that look like a bunch of people stood or sat in an area, probably to drink or whatever one did in an abandoned tunnel kiln.  But the tire tracks cut through them, indicating that the vehicle was the latest thing to travel the tunnel.

“Be careful, Carisi, there’s debris on this floor.  Don’t get goin’ too fast.”

Sonny cannot tolerate the idea of slowing down.  If Kate is here, she’s been in this pitch black dungeon all this time, perhaps injured, perhaps worse.  He is trying to call out to her, carefully search, keep from tripping on the tracks or debris, and pray harder than he ever has, all at the same time.

“Katie!”  He calls. He hears the terror in his voice, and he doesn’t care.  “Baby, are you in here?”

They have to be nearing the middle of the kiln now, he thinks, but in fact they’ve only traversed about a quarter of it.  He is beginning to think she might not be here.  In this echoing space, if she was, wouldn’t she hear them calling? Wouldn’t she shout back?  

They continue down the long, dark tunnel, seeing occasional debris like broken bricks, beer bottles, a few used condoms (really?  Sonny thinks), and the crushed, torn wrappers from all sorts of food items.  But no Kate. The only thing that is holding Sonny together at this point is the fact that the tire tracks still continue in the dirt.  

Fin gives a shout.  “I got somethin’!”

Sonny can see an indistinct shape on the floor several yards ahead.  Heedless of the potential dangers lying on the dark floor, he shines his flashlight on the shape and begins to run.  It’s clear from a few yards away that it is a body lying on its side, back to them.  Sonny and Fin reach her at the same time.  Kate. Lying motionless on the floor of the tunnel, drying blood matting her hair and zip ties binding her wrists and ankles.  

Sliding to his knees beside her, Sonny reaches out to take her by the shoulders and roll her over.  Kate’s eyes are closed and her head lolls to the side like a rag doll’s.  She doesn’t respond.

[emilybrocar]

Reflection 2

In each of my blog posts I chose to focus on the construction of gender and the ways in which women are subjected to patriarchal oppression. The Persepolis post discusses the Islamic Revolution, Marjane Satrapi and her family’s experiences during that corrupt era. The fractured fairy tale post deals with women and gender representation in video games. In this review I will discuss how Angela Carter’s “Bloody Chamber” relates to the damsel in distress trope. During the last post I discuss Kate Chopin’s “The Story of an Hour” and Susan Glaspell’s “Trifles”. I will talk more in this reflection about how those short stories have changed over time, yet can still be connected to society today.

In the first post about Persepolis I talk about the inner and outer conflicts that the author struggles with during the graphic novel. The key issues in the novel are the Islamic Revolution, the war between Iran and Iraq, and the oppressive regime that sought control and power through fear. The gradual changes made by the radical Islamic government affected Marji in several different ways. As a child she is very religious, speaking with God on a regular basis, and wants to be a prophet when she grows up. When the more negative aspects of the regime start to manifest in her life, Marji begins to pull away from her previous notions of religion and adopts a more radical way of thinking. Marji’s mother plays a critical part in her development and thinking process when it comes to politics. When Marji is young, her and her mother argue a lot because Marji has trouble understanding the things her mother is trying to teach her. Marji’s grandmother is an important part in her graphic novel as well. When Marji is preparing to leave for Vienna her grandmother comes to spend the night with her. She tells Marji “In life you'll meet a lot of jerks. If they hurt you, tell yourself that it’s because they’re stupid. That will help keep you from reacting to their cruelty. Because there is nothing worse than bitterness and vengeance... always keep your dignity and be true to yourself” (150).

My second post discusses the idea of fractured fairy tales and female gender representation in video games. I wanted to draw a bit more attention to the negative aspects that are still alive in the gaming world, while discussing the advancements that have been made. I detail Anita Sarkeesian’s mini-series about the damsel in distress trope but here I would like to discuss Angela Carter’s “Bloody Chamber” and the ways it fits into my topic of female gender roles and the fractured fairy tale criteria. We see the role that women are expected to play in marriage again when the young woman in the story marries a man who is much older than her. At seventeen years old, the young woman was raised by a single mother and comes from a lower socioeconomic class than the man she marries. He lives in a castle and has all of the finest clothes, jewelry, and furniture so naturally this life would appeal to the young woman. She has never had a lot of finery in her life and she finds herself looking forward to beginning this new life. The story seems to be a perfect fairy tale until we start to realize that this new husband has some very dark secrets. His young bride eventually discovers the hidden bodies of his past wives, when he realizes what she discovers he attempts to behead her but her mother rides in on a horse and saves her life. It’s important that Carter chose to make the young woman’s rescuer her mother instead of a boring male character. This is one aspect that shatters the idea of the traditional fairy tale, creating a fractured version.

In my last blog post I delve into the topic of marriage again and what it means to the women in the stories we read, but also what it meant to the women who were alive when the stories were written. Although “The Story of an Hour” and “Trifles” are over 100 years old, the women in the stories can still be related to today. I think both Louise Mallard and Minnie Wright felt trapped in their marriages, regardless of whether their husbands were kind or not. We know that Louise’s husband was a lovely man who cared deeply for her and yet she is thrilled when she believes he was involved in an accident. I do not think she was necessarily happy that her husband was dead but she was clearly overjoyed to be in control of her future. Minnie Wright’s husband on the other hand, was not a very nice person. Even her neighbors knew that he was prone to violence and that Minnie was probably miserable with him. In both stories we can see these women filling their roles as wives out of duty and circumstance. We can also how the construction of the wife is viewed by the other male characters. The doctor’s assume Louise died of a heart attack because she was so happy to see her husband alive. It would be inconceivable to other men that she could have been so disappointed to see her husband alive. The same can be said for the husbands in “Trifles” when they laugh at Minnie for being concerned about her jars of canned fruit and how to finish her quilt while she is in jail for her husband’s murder. I don't know if it occurs to them that she couldn’t care less that her husband is dead.

[dayna-scully]

ncis/tiva s7 lb

season 3  |  season 4   |  season 5  |  season 6   |  season 8   |  season 9  |  season 10  |  etc

Truth or Consequences

I’ve never really been able to tell whether or not tony was acting in this bit

small muscles, big brain

coffee aficionado and functional mute

it never fails to astound me how much effort media has put into demonizing muslims

I was gonna say it was love driving tony, but I suppose that factors into vengeance

Tony’s full of bs

tony was not dealing well with not having ziva there

we have to deal with the writers pining over Kate for like 11 years but ducky’s over ziva being around after like 2 months? What is wrong with y’all

ziva’s not replaceable

tony, not keeping himself together as well as he used to

even after jeanne he was not so messy

what kind of failure/the kind with casualties

lotta sand

it’s not normal that we haven’t heard from ziva

I swear to god they use my name the most for tertiary characters, there were at least three just last season

I don’t know why they had to make Tony’s trauma fugue funny

neither of them were expecting that

it had to be you

you should not have come

you thought I was dead? then why are you here?

couldn’t live without you, I guess

he couldn’t leave her alone

she is very melodramatic

but so is tony

isn’t that the same “village” tony went to with Nikki

they’re not aliens, tony

stay alive long enough to not get dead 🤔

her own biological father doesn’t love her enough to save her

yeah gibbo!

I don’t understand how he could have possibly got there so fast but ok

I hate group claps

hella cringey

7x02

she’ll call when she’s ready

she looks so much better

bb girl

an angel

sleazeball

why would you egg a church?

why would you tell someone to their face that they’re “damaged goods” what the fuck

long, silent, meaningful eye contact

and mcgee chattering in the background

spots are still to tender for normal verbal barbs

I will be right here

what is wrong with Abby

he did kill Michael partially because he was jealous

mostly to protect her but

SHE IS ASHAMED OF HERSELF WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU

no normal person ever calls tony sir

so why are you avoiding tony

it had to be said in the men’s room

and double parked/yes, I noticed

I could not afford to trust you

cue ugly crying

I wonder why he could not look her in the eye

the neck grab is so intimate, and definitely echoes her face touch

waiting in dad’s basement

HE’S HER DAD

ziva’s here

7x03

that is total salami/baloney

ew dinozzo

oh bb ziva

7x04

it looks like a damn teen wolf convention

ziva hasn’t been ziva since we brought her home

everyone just keeps dumping on her

gibbs isn’t acting like he’s on team ziva

at any cost

he’s her dad

I did not mean to live through it

he’s her dad i’m cry

bb probiee

7x05

agent David

personal space

uhhh let me check, ziva?/no

digital images don’t work that way!!!

that’s so high school flirting

I say it with love

prankster probie

7x06

sleepy probiee

who says you have a say

stealing our precious body fluids

wh…what body fluids is ziva stealing from you tony?

ah, shame, my pencil broke

smug lil probie

we have been instructed to sit on the baby

I wanna see ziva with tali 😖

worth is so much hotter with long hair

7x07

normal work partners

that really looks like the diner from bones, and it’s definitely the one they used previously, but I would assume the bones one was on the fox lot? And that cbs wouldn’t have access to it

tony goes on a schpiel about how attractive Kai is and then tells ziva they must be alike

ok tony

you annoy me sometimes/sometimes?/most of the time

why is she nice to you and not to me?

because you’re emotionally repressed and can’t keep your mouth shut dinozzo

hey ziva, what the fuck

does tony have to sit behind ziva to work?

Tony’s jealous of mcgee, he’s jealous of Dunham…he can’t get any and his crush doesn’t seem to like him back

well well well how the turn tables

he cleans up nice/not that nice

he’s not being a big brother ziva

brother-zoned

last thing I need is a chad Dunham

hey ziva what the fuck

why are you looking at Tony’s dick

if you believe in that kind of thing

yeah mcgee a double date

oh mcgoo

7x08

that’s a looong time to be stuck in an elevator

it was either you or the watch

well we could be stuck here with tony

7x09

are you letting some blonde bombshell baste your bird, tony?

you dork!!!

normal

track-tor

I guess?????

I wonder if they styled that girl like flashback!shannon on purpose

ew god why

the favourite gets to ride shotgun

ziva, mean muggin’

aw, happy gibbs is so rare

7x10

yes I’m sure souther California gets a lot of snow

stop making my team fat

with his brother Darrel and his other brother Darrel

including the language of love, ten

those look more like sugar cookies but ok

bullheaded stubbornness

you’re one to talk, z

bah humbog

tearing up cause she’s proud of her boyfriend

7x11

tweeeeeting

perhaps baby bird is ready to leave the nest

jet packs…yeah, it’s gonna be a weird one

we spend a lot of time here, just the three of us

smug!!!

we always get the shots of ziva checkin these dudes out

you’re quoting better off dead, I told you to watch that

McGee is such a dork

fucking adorable

is that, like…necessary

a Thief

oof gibbo be nice

she acts like she hates me, but she talks like she likes me

gibbs has a crush

I don’t speak Canadian

hmm

why can’t shows just shoot pictures instead of photoshopping them badly

7x12

mind your own business/ooh, grouchy

ziva is ziva, nothing to tell

that is too disgusting to translate

why in the world did they ever hire senior

Tony’s REAL dad meeting his bio dad

ugh I hate him

poor tony

you may have to hire someone to protect him from me

gibbs has several children, one of whom is your son

Jetlag

ahhhhh!!! Ahhhhhhhh!!!!! Paris!!!!!!

I slept well last night, why, didn’t you? You certainly looked…comfy enough

oh???? Really????

that is not an innocent face

cute cute cute

we had enough “together”

you askin me on a date, duck?

I think Paris changed her

act natural!!!!!

you’re complementary

are you sure you two never?/no. positive. definitely no.

a good fit

she’s so soft about tony though

even if she is lying about where she slept 👀👀👀

caveman grunts

she adores him

why did you just lie to mcgee?/why’d you lie to Nora?

she’s trying so hard not to blush

his favourite picture

7x14

ugh that’s cringey

well we know his “little dinozzo-makers” survived…

the kids giggling about dad and his crush

TOTALLY NOT EAVESDROPPING

totally innocent

I am going to go…get a haircut

I think technically we own the building

come on ziva

(soft!!!!!)

what salim did was bad enough

I don’t really remember a lot of these episodes

the big tiva ones, yes, but the other ones not really

I guess we just have better nerds than you do

7x15

aww worth bb

I wish they could’ve gotten him to replace dinozzo

“get ziva and dinozzo out of bed”

“individual beds”

EVEN MCGEE THINKS THEYRE SLEEPING TOGETHER

boyfriends

how does ziva know where he sleeps

worth is very werewolf-y

no I was wrong they’re not boyfriends they’re husbands

ziva’s got sex face

Jean jacket ziva 💕💕💕

cutie

don’t be a dick tony

I only have one nose and it’s on my face

jealous tony

yeah whatever, you already slept with my wife

F U!!!!

Tobias dukes-in’ it

i wasnt askin ya!

it’s fun to make tony jealous

7x16

book suppository

our girls

7x17

keep your story straight but not so straight that it’s exactly the same

7x18

I’m glad I wasn’t your valentine/so am I

Casey!!!

but it is the coast guard

she loooves him

you mean he’s deceased, too?

he used to sing with the monkees/real monkeys?

I envy your brain sometimes

ducky’s bow ties are back

movie date!!!

What are you doing with me, watching a movie on a Friday night at work

you are my friend

really/no

both of your “dates” “cancelled” so you…decided to have a date together?

what was she thinking of saying??

she loooves him

7x19

are you two dating now?

a seven year bitch

that was a very bad fake slap

why couldn’t they have had ziva there

ziva is barely in this one

she loves him

things were hanging out? that is disgusting

7x20

once and future king of dorkland

Sand mites might bite

ziva is very proud of her dad

we have hit a shamu

I may have to hurt you

7x21

what would this woman possibly see in you

take ziva with you

ziva’s not used to being the jealous one anymore

tony is being a creepy stalker

Rivera turns out to be a villain, I think

ziva is concerned about tony

I forgot that Obama was president when this would have aired

tony sitting separately says a lot

he would usually be the one beside ziva

tony, being unwarrantedly intimate with a stranger

a quiet bookstore owner as a Russian spy is actually really interesting

7x22

Jamie!

toe cheese

realizing tony and ziva lied about Paris 👀👀👀

oh gibbs

7x23

cowboy gibbs

what are you, anti flan?

ooooh gibbo

oh gibbs

7x24

fathers and daughters

they’re his children, not his coworkers

staring at dad

personal space

ziva bb

looking for her dad and her boyfriend

[letsdothistom]

Jan. 4th, 2019

So, who the hell is Tom you may ask? Well, let me tell you about Tom.  Tom is a short, skinny, late 20‘s, early 30‘s guy with a big smile.  He’s a pretty handsome dude, with dark hair on his slightly large head.  I don’t know a whole lot about Tom, such as his last name, or what kind of car he drives, but I do know a few basic details.  I  know that he is from Michigan, still vacations there with his family (whom I know nothing about), and he hates how thick the flies get in Michigan come late summer.  Tom likes Nike shoes.  He doesn’t walk with a limp or wear an earring, or wear cowboy boots.  That last one is really just a guess. But Tom may have saved my life.  Not in so much as dragging me from a burning vehicle, or rescuing me from drowning or even fighting off a grizzly bear that was attacking me.  None of those things happened.  Tom also didn’t deliver me to religion, walk me through a twelve step program, or give me the Heimlich.  Nope, none of those things.  What Tom did was give me courage when I needed it most. Ya see, on July 23rd, 2018 I had a heart attack.  Des Moines, Iowa, taking photos, walking my basset hound Lionel (who was absolutely no help at all) and thinking about what I was going to have for dinner. Tom was my anesthesiologist.  After a rough week or so in the hospital, being transported to Denver, from Cheyenne, WY in the wackiest ambulance ride ever (a topic for another blog entry) things were looking a little bleak.  My heart was working at about 10 percent and I very easily could have been taking a dirt nap.  The deep sleep.  Six feet under.  Pushing up Daisies. As you can imagine spirits weren’t at an all-time high.  Of course my family was all there and being supportive.  We aren’t ones to really sugar coat much of anything, which was much appreciated, but I know it was tough on us all.  There was Kate, my wife, sleeping on the hospital couch night after night, my emotional sister Heather, my stalwart mom, Betty, always the trooper and in her wheel-house during these tough times (in spite of just having surgery for breast cancer), and my happy-go-lucky brother Jon, who always has a smile on his face.  Of course my in-laws were there (dealing with their own medical issues) and all the better halves, cousins, and of course the medical team that consisted of at least enough doctors to fill out the starting offensive side of a football team.  Add in the nurses and other medical staff and you could fill an entire 52 man NFL roster.   While I‘ve never really been one to worry much, and I don‘t really get down on myself or events in my life, I certainly would never consider myself to be courageous.  I’m scared of heights, can’t swim, and don’t even care for the dark.  But I also know that I’m a pretty strong big-picture guy when the chips are down.  I was gonna need to summons all the strength I could if I was going to get through all this.  I was going to have to find a little courage. Every single person there played a huge role in keeping me alive and having the most positive attitude I could have in those circumstances.  We played card games, Jon brought me hand-held football and baseball (still two of the sweetest games you will ever find), and probably the thing our family does best, reminisce about good (and some bad) times.  All that said, let me tell you, it aint easy to stay upbeat even for a good natured guy like myself.  Shit was getting REAL! After scores of doctors and tests, advice from medical staff, support from my family, encouraging words from tons of friends, the time of reckoning was quickly approaching.  Open heart surgery.  For those who haven’t experienced it (looking back, I wouldn’t recommend it), it is a daunting, terrifying moment in time and flat out scary as hell! It’s the day before surgery, and here comes this jolly (although not like Santa Claus, as I said, Tom is skinny), smiling, whistling-a-tune young guy with not a care in the world.  Meet Tom.  Tom introduced himself as my anesthesiologist and started to chat with me like we were old friends.  Well, you get all kinds.  I had doctors who tried easing my concerns, I had doctors who flat out scared me, I had doctors who didn’t really know what to say.  But Tom was none of these.  Tom just talked.  Tom asked me about myself.  Tom told me about how he was going on vacation in a few days with his family, back to Michigan where he and his wife were from.  Tom told me about how he was going fishing but was a little worried about the flies, because sometimes in August in Michigan they were so thick that you couldn’t concentrate on the act of actually fishing.  Apparently you spent the entire time swatting flies.  Tom was just Tom, and I liked him. Fast forward to 3:30 a.m day of open heart surgery.  OPEN HEART SURGERY!  I still can hardly believe it.  Surgery is set for 5:30 a.m. with Dr Reese; another awesome cat.  I’ve had absolutely no sleep, partially because of the crazy ass people from the sleep study place who came in to put a mask on me to help with sleep apnea at 1:00 a.m. but more likely because its a scary ass feeling not knowing if this is the last time you will ever go to sleep!  Or see your loved ones.  Or listen to music (yes Miles Davis’ Kind of Blue got a workout that night).  Or anything else for that matter.  If that shit doesn’t scare you, you are a badass MFer.  Or a liar. The cleansing, disinfecting shower/bath thing...that’s the low-point.  At least for me.  Anyone who has experienced it, knows my dread, knows my fear.  This is it.  The time is here... I woke up.  Well that may be an overstatement.  It was more of a...well...I can’t explain it.  No possible way for me to put into words the shitty, horrid, awful way I felt.  “Woke up” is the best I can do.   This funny tube thing in my throat and the worst saliva issue ever.  No one but Leeds in the room (Leeds is my moms Thelma to her Louise).  I don’t know where I am at, but I am here; someplace.  I don’t know if I’ve been in a coma for weeks, or if I’ve dreamt the whole shitty experience but I hear things, I see things, I feel like shit, but I am HERE! Back to 5:00 a.m.  Bath/shower thing has been taken.  I’ve been wheeled in the bed down to the operating room waiting area.  Jon and Kate sitting in the chairs next to me, waiting.  None of us know what to say.  We don’t really know how to act or what to feel.  I am scared.  And getting more scared by the minute.  Dr. Reese saunters in, Oklahoma through and through.  He asks how I am doing and tries to give me a bit of a pep talk, but frankly at this point I’m hearing but not listening.  All sorts of thoughts are racing around my mind.  Yep, the same things you would be thinking if in my shoes.  Dr. Reese says they are gonna run a line in my arm and the anesthesiologist will be there shortly.  All the dread in the world is running through me at this point.  I am trying to find courage.  Enter Tom. Smiling, pep-in-his-step, ready for his day, Tom.  I have no idea what the conversation entailed aside from the normal medical information talk.  I don’t know what I said, other than a few nervous, anxious stupid jokes about the situation.  Ridiculous, I know, but I had no control of anything at this point.  Tom just smiles.  A cheeky, knowing smile.  Tom chats back with me.  Tom tells me not to worry, it’ll be done in no time, and he’ll come check on me in ICU.  Tom just keeps on smiling.  Tom just keeps on being Tom.  As if we are old friends.  And I think of fishing in Michigan, and flies so thick you have to keep swatting them from your face. I don’t remember what really happened from that point until seeing Leeds sitting across my room reading.  No clue.  But I remember something changing midway through that conversation with Tom.  Something came to life in me and I didn’t have a care in the world.  My brother Jon said the last he saw of me was Tom wheeling me down the hallway towards the operating room, and hearing me say, “LET’S DO THIS TOM”. So to borrow from my niece Izzy, Lesson learned that day:  Have courage.  And if you don’t have courage, YOU BETTER EFFIN FIND SOME!

[ramyun-lover93]

All in. Are you ready to risk it?

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Genre: Angst, gang au, hacker au

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of rape, violance, blood

Words: 1 272

                                             *few days ago*

"They know that I'm alive..." She said with heavy breaths. Her eyes were big and full of fear. Sara was laying on my bed, hair splayed on the silver material of my pillow. Is it true what she said? We did everything to make them think, no, to make them believe she's dead. Hyungwon even took some of her blood and put it near the dead body we've stolen from Hyungwon's hospital. We prepared even documents, everything was okay. Hospital didn't know that something is wrong. Hospital took it as Sara, so why now? How the hell they know?  

"He... He saw me, Wonho... That man who was send after me... He saw me. The one who killed my parents... He knows now that I'm alive. He will try again..." Tears were running down her cheeks, but she still continued. "He will try again to take me... Last time... H-he almost raped me." She was choking on her tears. I kept her in my arms. She clung to me, crying at memories she wanted to forget.  

"Shh... I will protect you. Remember? I promised you that I will protect you and I will keep my words."  

                                                  *present*

He was beaten up. Everyone could tell that they tortured him in many ways. We knew why he was here. Part of me was happy, because he was back. But him being here meant she was there. Was that guy really trying to claim her as his? Yes. Not a first time he tried. When we found Sara that day... When she was with me alone... She told me everything, all her story. Her parents were in front of their house. Nothing dangerous, right? It was time that was wrong. They saw leaders of two gangs that were making deal. The one that was smarter run away, but Ji... He had to kill them. Sara saw everything, so when she was praying to die quickly and without a pain, he thought that taking her, making her his wife even, was a really good plan to make people respect him. In his eyes it was brilliant, he wanted to be respected by people because of his sick decisions. When he caught her and tried to rape her... She managed to run away, but another member of the gang was send after her. Hell. That's what it was to her. After what happened to her she had many problems with trusting. She was always caution around Kate and Minhyuk, but soon enough Kate and Sara were inseparable. Min also got her trust, hell he was her mentor, she studied plans with him. They even planned some actions together. But now all of it was ruined. As I was looking at sleeping Hyungwon, I clenched my palms into fists. Someone's steps echoed in the room with dim lights.  

"I came to say that I'm sorry."

"It's too late, Minhyuk. We lost her." I said, as I walk by the boy, whose head was hanging low. I was at the door, when I heard his sobs muffled by his hand."

                                                    *

"Well, hello Sara. I knew you would come back to me like the good bitch you are." The man's voice was loud and sounded rough in my ears. Did I regret going to him? Yes. Did I regret helping Hyungwon by doing this? Hell no. If I can help my friend by sacrificing myself... Of course, I'm gonna do this. The man came near to me. He grabbed my chin and forced to look at him.

"Look at you. Prettier than before. What a beautiful face and damn that hot body. But... You were a bad girl. And what bad girls get when they disobey? A punishment." Loud smack echoed in the spacious room, where we were in. My cheek was burning, but I held my head high. I didn't let him see my weak self.

"Oh my... Look how vulnerable you are. God, I want to ruin you right here, right now. Fuck, that red face of yours." He pushed me against green wall. His mouth found a way to my neck and started to suck on my skin. His disgusting hands grope my hips pushing them against his own. A low moan left his lips. I turned my face, so I wouldn't see his face. I didn't fight him. I didn't need to anymore. Hyungwon was alive and save. There was nothing, no reason to make me fight for my life. With raspy voice I asked:

"Hoon... Will you kill me after this? I beg you. You can do with me everything, but please kill me when you will be done." He was looking at me clueless. He stopped everything what he was doing. Taking few steps back, he took all of me in his eyes.

"Where is the spirit you had? Where is the want for life you had?" He shook his head. "Chan! Take her to my bedroom. I will be there in a minute. Wait for me there, Sara. And better if you will be the same as that night we met." His lips brushed against my earlobe. I was taken by Chan to room on the end of the hallway. As soon as I entered the room, he locked the door, so I couldn't escape. The king size bed with dark red duvet was right in front of me. I sat on the bed. Curled I was waiting for what would future bring. Tear escaped from my eye and run away on my cheek.

"Guys... Forgive me. For you... I had to go all in."

                                                       *

When Jihoon stepped inside his bedroom, he saw her fragile figure curled on his bed. Evil smirk was plastered on his face. The door was locked from the outside by his man from gang. The key heavy in his pocket, but he knew he couldn't do anything even when he heard her screams.

                                                    ***

"Hyungwon woke up!" I heard Kihyun's voice. I run to the room where they were. Hyungwon was laying on the bed. His skin paler than ever, lips dry, eyes slightly closed. Deep breathes, the only thing that could be heard at that time.

"Was she there? Did you saw her?" I asked as soon as his eyes met mine. With disappointment on his face he rasped out 'no'. I kneeled down. I clenched my hands on the black blanket that kept Hyungwon warm. Kihyun's hand patted me on my back. No one said anything.

As soon as everyone left and I was left alone with Hyungwon, he spoke:

"I'm sorry... If it wasn't for me... She would be here with you... Not me." I felt his hand when it brushed my hair away from my forehead. "Don't cry, hyung..." His voice full of sadness. Muffled sob at the end of his sentence made my head shot up. He felt guilty, but it wasn't his fault. I took his weak hand in mine. Both of us were trembling.

"Shh... It's not your fault. It has never been your fault."

                                              ***

Jihoon came out from his room after being there for hours.

"Make sure she won't leave. Oh! And give her some food and water. I've had enough fun for now." He said to his man, while pushing black hair to the back. He put his white shirt in black jeans he wore. When the man, Chan, was left alone, he could hear quiet sobs coming from the girl behind the door. He faced them, his hand on the knob, but...  He was too scared to go there and see her.

[themalhambird]

Chapter Forty Two: Collapse

CW for mention of & flashbacks to past rape- as with Chapter fifteen, I’ll summarise the main plot points of this chapter at the beginning of the next one, so this can be skipped over without loosing too much of the story.

Kent walked in to Richard’s room without knocking. 

His brother looked up from the parchment he was doodling on and smiled that pleased, absent smile that meant he was pleased to see the sight of another person. “Edward’s not here,” he said, “He’s getting ready for…you know.”

“The trials. Yeah. I know. It was you I came to see,” York’s absence was actually what Kent had wanted. The man had been increasingly over-protective of Richard of late, and wouldn’t let Kent alone with him. It was absurd. Richard was his baby brother, he wasn’t going to hurt him. 

He did need to have something out with him, however. Are we not going to talk about it?” he asked abruptly. Richard looked up at him with quizzical brows.

“Talk about what?”

The frustration of the past few weeks began to boil again. “About what? Richard- you could have been back here a year and a half ago! Why wait for York? I know you love him, but I’m your brother,. I promised our mother I’d look after you, why wouldn’t you let me? Why did you not come with me!” He’d thought, at the time, that Richard had gone mad. But Richard wasn’t mad. He was quieter, and less confident, and he flinched sometimes if you moved too fast, but he wasn’t mad. So why? 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Richard said, drawing in on himself. “I don’t know- I don’t- I don’t-” he trailed off, looking frightened. 

“I came to rescue you,” Kent pressed. “I came to you, in your cell, and tried to help you, you’d been whipped raw, there was blood everywhere: sticking your shirt to your back, on your thighs, your feet-”

“Stop it!” Richard pressed his hands over his ears. “Stop it, I’m not thinking about it, I don’t want to think about it I don’t - you’ll make me remember-”

“Richard?” Queen Isabelle appeared in the door. “It’s- oh, hello, Jean.”

“Your Majesty,” Kent bowed. “I was just leaving.” He strode from the room, feeling irritable and wishing Richard was seven again. Life was so much easier when a problem could be solved by giving his baby brother piggy back rides, or letting him clamber in to bed with him after a bad dream.

“Dickon?” Isabelle asked softly , as Kent left, door slamming shut behind him. “What was that about?”

“I don’t….I don’t feel well,” Richard said. “I don’t…I don’t want to go. I don’t…I don’ t want to see Exton. Ned said….Ned said he killed him, can’t we just…can’t we just…”

“Darling, I know Exton’s a horrible, horrible man. But it’s five minutes. Five minutes after we’ve dealt with Henry and Northumberland, five minutes so it’s an execution not murder.” she took his face in her hands. “Come and sort out Henry. If you want to leave after that, you can, it will be alright, I promise. And even if you stay after Henry, but decide to leave after Northumberland. We can take as many breaks as you need, remember, we talked about that. If you need to stop, all you have to do is…”

“Kick Edward in the ankle,” Richard said, a little more brightly. Isabelle smiled. 

“Exactly. Come on, my darling,” she said gently. "Let's go to work."

Hal had bitten his nails down to the quick, and the trials hadn’t started yet. John sat next to him, so still he could have been carved of marble. “It’s going to be fine,” Hal said , biting his thumb.  “Father’s going to be just fine.”

“How can they do this?” John hissed. “Look at York- bastard, father should have taken his head--” 

“Don’t,” Hal said. “Uncle Ned’s a good...Richard is...”

“Right. Right, I forgot, you always did love them. Even the first time they tried to take everything.” John said sarcastically. “I can’t believe you’re even trying to defend them-”

“John, he’s King!” Hal hissed. “Whatever your thoughts, whatever your feelings- shut up, and deal with it!”

John glared mutinously, but fell silent again as the doors opened, and they all stood for the King and Queen.

Isabelle looked stunning. Was it wrong that Hal was pleased for her, that he was happy Richard was King again, even though he was sick with worry about his father. He was relieved not to be Prince of Wales any more. And Isabelle had promised him that his father wouldn’t be executed, so...

And Richard. 

King Richard. 

Hal hadn’t spoken with him since...everything. He had wanted to- badly- but he hadn’t wanted Richard to think ill of him and he’d already babbled to Isabelle about his father and...

They took their seats, to the left of Edward York. Once they were seated, everyone else sat down too.

And then Hal’s father was brought in. 

The charge was treason: in the first instance, ignoring his exile and returning from France; in the second, the illegal usurpation of England’s lawful King. How did Bolingbroke answer, Edward wanted to know?

Henry squared his shoulders. “I confess to returning too hastily to these shores, my Lord of York. But I did not usurp our noble cousin. He abdicated. You ought to remember that, you were there.”

Edward smiled tightly. Richard was clenching the arms of his throne so hard his knuckles were white, and he didn’t appear to be paying the slightest bit of attention. “The abdication would only be admissible if it were done of the King’s own free will. With no bargains or threats made to bring it about. Correct me if I’m wrong, cousin, but did you not tell his grace that he would have to chose between his crown, and the lives of his friends- including mine?”

Damn it.

“I did,” Henry said slowly. “What I felt was right. For the Kingdom. And her people. My conscience is...clear.”

Edward looked at him. Henry met his gaze, and wondered if a doctor had seen to his leg. There was a quiet, hurried conference between Richard, Edward, and Queen Isabelle, then Richard spoke.

“We...acknowledge that our actions were, in part the causation of your actions,” he said, making a visible effort to pull himself together. “And in light of this....you may have what you came for six years ago. The Duchy of Lancaster. You can go back to your estates, cousin. And then stay there. Forever. Your sons and daughters will remain at Court, in my- in our- care.”

So. it was to be seclusion, rather than death, exile, or prison. His children would be hostages against his behaviour, and...in effect, he would no longer be their father. He wouldn’t get to watch them grow, or glower imposingly at foolish young men who flirted too much with his daughters at dinner- or at his sons for flirting too much with serving women...neither Edward or Isabelle looked particularly happy; doubtless they thought it was too light a sentence. Perhaps it was. But truthfully? 

Henry would prefer death to being alive and knowing that he was forever divided from his family. 

Northumberland’s sentence had, effectively, already been announced. He was no longer Northumberland, just Henry Percy, and only out of consideration to his son- a true and loyal friend of the King- was he not being executed on Tower Green. Instead, he would live out the rest of his life in the Tower of London.

Kate and Harry had used the excuse of her pregnancy to remove themselves from the proceedings. They lay on their bed together, Harry’s head resting on Kate’s chest and his arm protectively around her stomach as she sang incomprehensible welsh lullabies to him. He still didn’t understand his father’s actions. Kate didn’t know how to help, but she did the best she could, and that was enough. 

John’s words were doing bad things to Richard’s head. They wouldn’t go away, they kept echoing- Richard kept remembering the second stranger to come in to his cell and promise escape, only now he had his brother’s face. Blood. He’d told Edward about the whipping. It made sense that there would be blood. on his back. And his feet- his feet had always been getting torn, and bloody- that was what happened when they were bare.

But his thighs? 

He sentenced Harry. Isabelle thought he should be placed under house arrest; Ned wanted his rank removed. Richard wanted none of this to be happening, so all three of them were miserable.  

Why would there be blood on his thighs? 

Edward dealt with Northumberland. 

They brought in Exton. Richard couldn’t breathe. The sound had rushed from the room, except for the sound of Exton’s voice....’What’s the matter, your grace? Is this not how you like it? would you rather

be on your back?”

“....guilty of treason and sentenced ...,” Edward was saying, and Richard needed him but he couldn't move, “...to death?”

“You know how they kill sodomite Kings? but-”

“My prisoner was not a King..” Exton was looking straight at him and smiling, “Were you, your grace?”

“Stop it! Stop, please, I am the King! I am King of England”- “But you’re not, are your grace, you’re not a king, you’re not anything, so why don’t you make this nice and easy on yourself and relax a bit? What’s the matter, your grace ,is this not how you like it? would you rather be on your back? Guards-

Edward. Edward where are you please come and save me you’re always here, your always here when I need you why aren’t you here why aren’t you here-”

“Your majesty?” Kate and Harry both sprang upright as the King crashed through their door, tears streaming down his face. 

“Anne!” he wept, “I need-she should- this is-where’s Anne, where’s my wife?”

“Your majesty,” Harry  swung to the floor. “L-let me go f-for York-” he could here running footsteps heading towards them and prayed they belonged to Edward. 

“No! No he can't see me he can’t know he’ll hate me I want Anne I want her why isn’t she here?”

“Richard!” Isabelle appeared in the doorway, 

“What happened?” Kate asked.

“Exton. He went all tense and  rigid and then he bolted, Ned wanted to come after him but the doctor only let him out of bed on the condition he was carried to the courtroom and spent the entire time sitting down, I told him to send Exton to Tower Green and be done with him- Richard ,darling-” she went to her husband, who shoved her as she went to embrace him:

“Don’t touch me!” he screamed. “Don’t touch me, please don’t...” he hid his head with his arms. “Don’t touch me. I want Anne. I want Anne. I want Anne.”

[kiss-my-freckle]

Fall finale.

Only Agent Keen’s life. 

I’m just gonna jump right in with Tom and his neverending vigilantism against Red. Like Ressler’s non-stop hunt for him ending in, “Face it, Reddington. I beat you.” I feel that’s what it’s all boiled down to with Tom’s Anti-Red rage. The DNA information he finally got in his hands, revealing that one secret he feels would be enough for them to finally be rid of Reddington. Of all the secrets of Red’s he’s spilled to Liz throughout the seasons, and that’d be the one to steal her away. Someone should’ve told Tom, “There are no beatings here. No winners or losers. There is only Agent Keen’s life.” In all the hate he had for Red, it put his wife in a coma and left his child to suffer it. 

I found the end scene rather powerful, especially given their song choice. Red and Tom in the back seat of the car, Liz between them. The Southern Cross for one. Polaris for the other. Both thinking they know what’s best for her. Both keeping secrets in thinking they know what’s best for her. Neither of them reaching that median. Because they’re talking without speaking, hearing without listening. Communication never found its way between them. Hard to say what this secret means for Liz, but I think both should’ve tried better. Tom even more, since despite seeing the test results, I’m not so sure he knows what it actually means for Liz. And I do believe some secrets are best kept in the dark. This suitcase served no purpose but to remove Red from her life, and all it did was put her in a coma and leave her with reason to end up like Red. Something to which I don’t believe will happen. Because Red won’t fail her. 

You can trust me.

I found it idiotic as hell, Tom asking for Red to trust him. Especially when he asked for that trust after already having switched the bones out. He was conning Red. And in beating the man he’s been trying to beat since season one, he did this to his family. 

And Tom was expecting Red to trust him, yet he couldn’t even trust Red himself. The man was willing to get shot because he was too afraid to get in the car with Red. Afraid he’d lose what he then believed was his Fulcrum-like golden ticket to be rid of him. Especially after what Ian said: ”Whatever you imagine the answer might be, it's better than that.  Reddington's power is legendary. WIth this, I control that power.” So Tom’s standing there with Ian’s last words in mind: “That stays. Last thing I want, is that thing anywhere near Reddington.” Not just willing to get shot instead of getting in the car with him. But willing to take another stabbing intead of getting Red on the phone. He was willing to die before he let Red continue keeping this secret. That’s how selfish and hateful he was to get Red out of her life. And this, after he made it appear as though he was willing to work with her father in episode three. 

Zero-sum game. 

Tom had decided, that when it comes to the things that Liz cares about, what’s good for Red is bad for her and what’s good for her is bad for Red. Which is exactly why Tom believed Liz needed to learn this secret. Hiding it is something Red wants, so it must be something she needs to know. Making choices for her without even knowing what they mean in a broader sense. And Red mentioning Tom to make a point. “Like you?” Again, Tom thinking he was good for Liz because Red didn’t want them together. As long as it was something Red wanted, Tom went against it. Which is where I believe Red’s reverse pyschology came into play where it came to Tom getting answers about his own past. He didn’t want Tom working for Scottie, not when he wanted to keep Agnes within reach. That’s why his dialogue switched from S3 to S4. He found out Liz was alive. 

You make her happy. 

Red’s story about the first Keen2 wedding was all I needed to know that Red’s intent with this suitcase is honest. He knows very well what it will do to her. I don’t believe he’s keeping this secret out of selfishness, or of being found out. It’s about stopping Liz from losing what happiness and closure she’s found. The many chances he could’ve killed Tom and he didn’t take them. Her happiness matters to him. means more than anything else. As much as he loves her, I don’t believe he’d take issue in her walking away. He’s given her opportunities to. And that’s why he was sure to tell Tom that he makes Liz happy. Because that’s all he wants for her.  

There is a part of Red that continues lying to Tom and Liz. I think he’s afraid to let the full weight of the truth actually hit them. For Tom to understand why Red was against him from the start. He saw what Tom was bringing into her life. And  I feel, despite the lying, these were things Tom needed to hear from Red. Especially before he died. To at least believe this is how Red felt about him. That he was doing these things because he felt they were in Liz’s best interest. 

Tom’s murder investigation. 

“Well, according to police records, McGee received a call from Nik on the night of his death, just two hours before his body was found.” - Aram

Red has Nik's phone. Liz has Tom's. What should be on Tom's phone, are calls made to and from Nik from the start, as well as the image of her id badge. So whether or not Red wants to share this secret with her, he'll be left with no choice. Eventually, she'll find out what her id badge was used for. This will not look good for Tom, since he had to do a double-brush pass to steal her id, and he lied to her about the phone call being a telemarketer. 

Similarities in dialogue.

“Your job’s to be the friend of a friend, get to know this Milhoan, not to get involved with her. Just be a friend of a friend. You got that?” -Major

This takes us back to the memory wipe dialogue. 

“I hired Tom simply to be there as a friend of a friend to look after you from an arm’s length.” - Red of Tom, 2x19

“Not really. Friend of a friend.” - Nik of Tom, 3x15

“Dr. Krilov, I’m a friend of a friend.” - Kate to Dr. Krilov, 4x19

“You were brought to me by a mutual acquaintance of ours who wanted me to take certain memories away from you.” - Dr. Krilov, 4x19

If you want to know why he came into your life- 

"Tom, you're scaring me." - Fall Finale

"You’re scaring me.” - To Kate, S4 finale

“And when it’s safe, babe, I’m gonna explain everything.” - Tom, Fall Finale

“I’ll tell you what I know as soon as I know you’re safe.” - Red, Red Wedding

Jumping into my S2 coincidences. 

Tom calling from Union Station where Liz was attacked by Andropov. 

“I believe Tom Keen is once again entangled in some nasty business, and I worry he may be involving Elizabeth.” - Red, Fall Finale

"Looks like Tom's in a little bit of trouble, and he's gonna bring that trouble to you. So... be careful." - Ressler, 2x17 deleted scene

Then we have the alias Tom used at the clinic with Lena, which Ressler put flags on in season two. 

“You know, not everyone’s so anxious to leave. Put a flag on Tom, all his known aliases- he hasn’t left.” - Ressler, 2x17

Interesting to show the Keens owning a record player, which will go well with my Fowler frame theory, as I do believe those were Tom’s fingerprints left on the record brush.  

Liz’s soul will be just fine.   "I am the captain of my soul." Invictus by William Ernest Henley

I’m gonna be working up a post about the suitcase, which I’ll be posting separately. I’ve gotta gather up everything first. 

[alwayswritewithcoffee]

The Absence of Blame: A Castle Fic

Prompted by @inkstainedcoffeecup: In 8x12 ‘The Blame Game’, one of them is injured in the final room.

It goes wrong so suddenly that she doesn’t even notice. 

She’s too focused on getting the gun away, on subduing Brandon before he can do something to hurt one of them that the ding of the bullet against metal escapes her entirely. The groan of pain is muffled against her struggle for the gun, the thud of a body onto the floor disguised by Brandon’s own trip onto the unforgiving concrete. 

It’s only the flare of surprise in the mastermind’s eyes that alert her to anything being amiss, that bright flicker followed by a twinkle of pleasure that sends her stomach rolling with anxiety. 

Training demands that she keep the gun pointed on her suspect, just as it begins to bleed through the rush of adrenaline at living to survive for another day and tell her that something has gone horribly, drastically wrong. 

The absence of movement, the gasping intake of a breath, a groan that isn’t quite muffled enough in the room. The dark, wet patch that teases at the corner of her vision, a steady spread over one of countless dress shirts that her fingers have touched over the years. 

Her heart leaps into her throat, panic at war with the rest of her. Instinct and fear for her husband demand that she put down the gun and rush to his side, but her training won’t allow it. She cannot be a wife, not yet. For a few minutes she has to be a cop, to neutralize the threat and give herself and Castle the best chance for survival. 

Not that it stops the whimper from slipping out of her mouth. The tears are still pricking at her eyes, a swell of regret and guilt held in the whisper of his given name on her lips. 

This is her fault. She should have been faster, should have lunged sooner and grabbed the gun before Brandon could ever fire off a shot. 

The guy is still sitting on the floor, docile and content. The horror rises up like a tidal wave, crashing into Kate with a force that’s replaced with swift rage. He’s grinning, eyes riveting to the man bleeding out from a wound that she’s not quite managed to look at. He’s grinning and proud of what he’s done, proud that he’s managed to hurt at least one of them. 

She lifts the rifle before it’s really a conscious thought, anger slicing her open with white hot fingers that are insistent on meeting violence with violence. She could pistol whip him in a second, leave him out cold and buy herself time to attend to her husband. For that matter, she could shoot him point blank and ensure no one has to deal with Brandon again.

Kate resists both ideas, ignoring the tug that demands retribution and the steadily growing grief of a wife who might be forced to watch her husband slip away. 

She won’t think about it. Can’t think about it. This can’t be where it ends, with the two of them locked in a room with a sociopath with a perchance for mind games while they’re still separated and, by sheer avoidance towards the subject, on the path to a divorce in the minds of most people. 

It can’t end like this, not when she has so much to make up for. Not when they have so many things left to share. 

“Get up,” she growls, kicking out towards Brandon’s feet to urge him from the floor. His hesitation snaps the fragile band of her patience, further tests her tolerance about manhandling the man that shot her husband, and she reaches out to haul him from the floor herself, adrenaline and sheer strength ensuring that he rises to his feet with relative ease. “You walk over there and you stand with your back against the wall.” 

The push is unnecessary, but it makes her feel better nonetheless, that physical display siphoning off enough of her rage that Kate can find her focus. Brandon goes without complaint, those eyes still fever bright when she kneels beside Castle, fumbling with one hand to loosen the belt that’s fastened at his waist. 

It tugs at her heart that there is no wry grin or teasing come on about where her hands are while they work at undoing the leather strap. Rick should be smiling at her, those gorgeous blue eyes sparkling with that ridiculous combination of mischief, love, and lust that always manages to do it for her.

She tries not to think about how pale he is, how still he remains as the pool of blood grows while she works the belt through the loops, freeing it from the constraints of his pants with a bit of pushing and shoving. There is some comfort that there is no blood underneath his body, the bullet plugging the wound that seems to be embedded in his shoulder. Not life threatening, not unless he bleeds out before help comes. 

Help has to come. It has to. 

“Turn around,” she orders to Brandon, gun in one hand and the belt in the other. It takes another shove with the hand containing the accessory to get him to turn, the man’s chest smacking with a bit too much force into the wall. But Kate ties his hands with the belt, wrapping and knotting a configuration that would take some work to get himself out of. 

He sits without being instructed, back to the docile person that he’d pretended to be before the final room and their complete disregard for his rules. 

Maybe, on some level, that’s who he is. The man underneath all the damage and anger over the choices his parents made. 

She can’t focus on it. There just isn’t enough room in her heart and her mind to worry about the actions of a man who will soon spend the rest of his life in some form of imprisonment, be it Rikers or a mental facility. All she can think about is Rick, of how he’s beginning to stir from his spot on the floor, mouth contorted in a pain that she understands far too well. 

“Hey, babe, it’s okay,” she’s kneeling at his side in an instant, fingers gentle and soothing through the mussed strands of his hair. “I’m right here, you’re gonna be okay. Just stay calm....help is coming, Rick. You’re gonna be fine....” 

“Kate.” 

Everything hurts. His chest is on fire, a blistering, spreading inferno that’s centered somewhere around his left shoulder. Moving makes it worse, leaves him screaming in agony though Rick thinks it’s largely in his mind.

It takes too much effort to scream. It requires breath that he cannot easily draw into his lungs. That’s a fact that should concern him, something that scares the part of him not consumed with the pain that continues to build, licking at his skin and every single nerve ending that exists in his body. 

He’s been shot before, a graze that he cannot remember, which leads him to believe that it wasn’t a serious wound. 

He would remember pain like this, fear like this. He couldn’t ever forget such a thing.

Is this what Kate went through? This terrifying, paralyzing fear of the unknown. The never ending pain that pulses through his body until it’s impossible to separate that feeling from anything else? 

“Kate.” 

Is he crying? He thinks he might be, crying with eyes that are squeezed closed. The effort it takes to force them open is incredible, nearly more difficult than his continued struggle to breathe. If he’s crying, he isn’t the only one because his wife is hovering over him, tears streaming down her cheeks and leaving those green and gold eyes glassy. 

He doesn’t want Kate to cry. He doesn’t want his last memory of her to be tears. 

“Don’t---” 

“Castle, stop talking,” she shushes him with a gentleness that makes his heart ache, those slender and clever fingers sliding over his cheek. That touch is a balm against some of the pain; comfort and love in one simple gesture. 

That’s better, he thinks. A better memory to carry forward. 

“I always talk,” he mutters, “Got things to say. Things like I love you.” 

The smile she gives him is strained, marked by more tears and a regret that she doesn’t manage to hide. He understands that regret, just like he can read the guilt that Kate has already heaped onto her shoulders because this has happened to him. His wife, his brave, selfless and incredible warrior of a wife is going to be eaten alive by the guilt of something she had no hope of controlling. 

“You don’t have to tell me you love me, Rick,” she tells him, her lips leaving a whisper soft kiss at the corner of his mouth, “I know you do. I always know.” 

“I love you,” he repeats it anyway, ignoring the second attempt Kate gives to keep him quiet. He has more to say, more things that involve watching out for Alexis and keeping his mother from overspending, of allowing Hayley to take over Richard Castle Investigations, giving Esposito his Ferrari and ensuring Ryan gets half of the Old Haunt. 

And to be happy. He so wants to insist that his wife doesn’t spend her days eaten with guilt and entrenched with grief over an this. He wants her to find someone else, to live her life beyond the shadow of losing him. 

He wants her to know what she’s given him, even in these weeks and months they’ve been apart, months where they’ve had to sneak around and watch every step they make. He wants her to know she’s been the moon and the sun, the thing in which his world has been built around. 

He wants to say all of that and a million other things, but Rick has to stop with ‘I love you’, too overwhelmed by pain to fight for more words, too muddled with the way his blood continues to seep from his wound to think up more than a sentence befitting a third grader. 

He doesn’t say anything, merely closes his eyes to the rumble of a metal door and the sturdy thump of cop shoes across a hard, winter frozen ground. 

The hours pass at a crawl, nothing more than jumbled sounds, the hum of conversation and the shuffle of rubber soled shoes across linoleum floors. There is the stench of disinfectant and Pine-Sol, thick enough that it leaves her sinuses burning but still doesn’t manage to disguise the smell of blood. 

She still has blood on her hands, lines of deep red that have embedded themselves under her fingernails and along cuticles that are in need of a good manicure. She scrubbed at it only at Martha’s insistence once they had settled in the waiting room, even used one of the wipes that Lanie offered from the depths of her bag. 

She hadn’t used them properly, hadn’t made the effort to erase all traces of her husband from her fingers. It’s a punishment of sorts, a reminder of her failure to protect him and a way to keep him with her while he’s in surgery. 

It’s morbid and it’s strange. Kate knows that. She accepts it, just as she accepts the awful hospital coffee that Esposito presents to her just after 1 a.m.. She accepts it, she sits, she waits, and she thinks of all the mistakes that have led her to this day and this moment. 

She waits for news. Waits with an anxious mother in law and a step-daughter who slides between distraught, furious and frustrated with the ease that is only assigned to those still young in life. Lanie sits with them, swapping magazines with Hayley and occasionally hunting down a nurse to make sure nothing has changed with Rick’s status. The boys hustle in and out, working the case from the eerie hallways of a hospital on the graveyard shift. 

They all wait. Silent and steadfast until the doctor steps through the double doors with a pleased, tired grin to tell them that with rest and physical therapy that Castle will recover and be as good as new. 

There is no fanfare to it at all in the end. Rick arrives home to discover the return of a few specific objects. The photo of the two of them lounging on the beach during their delayed honeymoon is back on the piano, the Union Jack pillow his wife loves is again resting on the leather chair in his office. Kate’s keys sit in the bowl by the door, her phone charger is again plugged into the outlet on her side of their bed. 

The closet overflows with leather jackets and wool coats, a pair of boots lay jumbled together in front of the dresser where she’s kicked them off after a day of work. 

He returns home from the hospital with a couple dozen stitches and his arm in a sling to his wife reading a novel (not one of his) on the sofa as if she never left. 

They go through all the motions, dinner with Alexis and his mother, insisting that they can manage well enough without the two of them moving back in for a few weeks to help out. The four of them pile onto the sofa for a movie that no one is interested in, a movie that gets turned off before the halfway point because his mother wants to toast to his return home and Alexis wants to show him the demo of a computer program that she thinks might be helpful in the office. 

Alexis leaves first, heading to meet friends for coffee and a study session, and his mother follows shortly after, sweeping out with all the drama and gusto befitting an actress on the way to make a starring turn in a popular Broadway play, which, of course, she is. 

Their absence leaves an awkwardness in their home, the shadow of unspoken fear and unadmitted regret sweeping through each room in turn. It’s an evening spent in silence, feigning interest in a book where the pages no longer turn, or a television show where he can’t recall a single story point or a bit of dialogue. 

It doesn’t get easier when the time comes for bed, tension thick and heavy between them while Kate eases the sling from his shoulder and assists in lifting his shirt over his head. Normally, it’d be a move built on romance or heat, the promise of a mutual satisfaction. 

Instead, Kate’s eyes fill with tears, that deep green filled with a sorrow that leaves him aching with the need to put it to rights. It doesn’t really matter that he’s done nothing wrong, that this is her cross to bear and her struggle to wade through. He loves her and when she hurts, he hurts with an inability to fix it. 

“I’m so sorry.” It falls out of her mouth like a wail though she speaks at little more than a whisper. The emotion rings like a bell, crystal clear and unmistakable when compared to the grief that lines her face. “This never should have happened. I’m so so so sorry, Rick.” 

He could ask if she’s referring to the shooting, but it’s a waste of words. For all of their struggles about communication and being stronger, there are moments where no words are needed. She’s no more talking about Brandon Northcliff and his mind games than the rain that’s steadily falling from the sky outside. His wife is standing in front of him riddled with grief at almost losing him, at losing him at a time when he had pushed away in public, only to be seen and loved in private. 

She doesn’t have to admit it for Rick to understand that she’s ashamed, that the return of her possessions and her presence into their home is the end of Kate’s standoff with LokSat, or at least of her standing alone against them.

Why bother. The failure flickers in those pools of dark green, pained and engrossed in grief from her shortcomings. In Kate’s mind, she didn’t protect him from a man who had nothing to do with LokSat. She couldn’t protect him, couldn’t stop a horrible and terrifying thing from happening. Why continue pretenses when he could just as easily be taken from her tomorrow? 

No guarantees. No promises in life. Just the time they have been given. Time that could end in a moment.

When he kisses her, gentle and so very slow, Rick can feel her shaking, trembling in a way that is not unlike the first night where they stood in this room and began on an altogether different road. “You did it because you love me,” he keeps his voice quiet, unwilling to break whatever fragile moment of truth that had been built between them. Even now, after everything they’ve been through, it’s rare they don’t exist in subtext and hit the situation head on. 

He’s not willing to disrupt this. 

“I did,” Kate agrees, “Which doesn’t make it right.” 

“No,” on that he won’t argue because there is no argument to make. Her reasons were well placed, despite it being a decision she should have never made without him, “But I recall a time when I made a decision without including you, and that I did it for the exact same reason.” 

Her chuckle is strained, outlined by that still swelling grief that leaves her eyes glistening with tears. “You and I really can make a mess of things.” 

“Love is messy,” Rick says it immediately, the intensity of his gaze isn’t subtle, but he’s not attempting to shame her. It’s a matter of fact declaration. Three words that leave the truth laid bare. Undeniable in its simplicity. 

Love is messy. Messy, dangerous, and yet the most fulfilling part of their life. 

For better or worse. Isn’t that what they had promised one another? To do all things together and take the good with the bad? 

“I shouldn’t have left,” Kate whispers it quickly, the guilt of far more than his injury still weighing on her, the destruction that her choices caused still a black mark on her heart and a stain that hasn’t quite rubbed out from the fabric of their marriage. 

“Nope.” He agrees easily enough, the broad imprint of his palm rising to cup the sharp angles and the smooth plane of her cheek. The warmth of that touch, the tenderness of it draws Kate in, easing some of the guilt and regret that she’ll have to eventually forgive herself for. “But you admitted the mistake and you came back, which is the only thing I care about, Kate. I love you and that will never stop.” 

The tears that spill over are minimal, quickly brushed away by Rick with a small upturn of his lips. He’s patient while she stands with him, locked in an internal battle to further punish herself or to let it go and accept what her husband is offering with his forgiveness and acceptance. Neither of them really know how long they stand there in silence, but the quiet is healing. The stillness is strengthing, rebuilding some of the fragile bonds that have been strained between them for months. 

“What do we do now?” she asks the question softly, twisting her fingers into the soft fabric of his shirt. 

“We keep going forward,” he answers, leaning forward to touch his lips to her forehead. 

[chronicallycal]

Hi Callie! I’m glad to be back in your inbox too! I totally need to catch up on the Harry Potter series once I have the time. Admittedly, I have only watched the movies so far. I’ve heard that while the French translation is fine, there’s something to be said about the wordplay in the original version, so I’m actually tempted to read it in English. Recently, I chose instead to watch some cult movies for the first time, namely the Indiana Jones and Star Wars series oops (NSA)

Your messages are under the cut again, too, because of length lol.

(and I’ve only watched the initial trilogy of both series). Now I finally know what those “Jedi mind tricks” are all about ^^ I can see why you’re comparing the beginning of S8 to what happened in 2x01 and 3x01. Their emotions were indeed less concealed this time, probably because unlike the previous times, in S8 they knew what it was like to be in an actual relationship with one another. Well, I didn’t appreciate the fact that they didn’t work together in the final season, but the thing is,

it would have made no sense if they had, at least during the separation. Because then what would even be the point in breaking up? It was already bad that Castle kept coming to the precinct occasionally (necessary because of how the show is structured), and that Kate also returned several times to the loft, giving her the opportunity to leave a message there if she had wanted to. In fact, I wonder if Castle would have been spared, had Loksat actually come after Beckett in the first half (NSA)

of the season, as Caskett were still married and regularly seeing each other. Besides, after a few eps, Castle started investigating on his own anyway. So while your idea is interesting, imo the writers would have had to find another reason for them to be separated in order to be able to implement that idea. Plus, I think removing the PI office from the picture wouldn’t necessarily equal to Castle visiting the precinct more often (Wouldn’t it hurt him too much to do that?

Would Beckett tolerate his presence after a while? etc.). But yeah, 2x01 and 3x01 were certainly easier to watch because of the way the COTW was handled. You have perfectly described the way I feel about the transition in S8. While it made total sense for them to reconnect sexually with other, and while Castle didn’t completely drop the talk about Loksat, they were almost too happy after what had JUST happened. In other words, things were back to normal really quickly, if that makes sense. (NSA)

I agree that this transition phase would have been a good time for them to discuss their future. Of course I liked the shift between S4 and S5 too, it was about time that they become an item, and I actually loved many Caskett moments in S5 (especially at the beginning of the season with their newly found intimacy, and around episodes 18-21, if “Still” is 5x21). In regards to the end of 5x10, it would have been interesting indeed to see Beckett having that conversation with Castle later on (NSA)

in the show. I guess it happened off screen, but I wouldn’t be surprised if that topic was only addressed after they got engaged. Aside from that scene, there were other mentions of insecurity in 5x08 (on Beckett’s side), and in 5x18 (on Castle’s side) for example, so for me it was a pretty recurrent theme in S5. Like many people, I didn’t like “The Squab and The Squail”, and I still have trouble with the fact that this episode was supposed to air after “Still”, so I’m leaving it aside (NSA)

for the moment. Some people wrote that in their opinion, at the end of S5, Castle had this tendency to deflect Beckett’s questions about the more serious topics, which led her to think that he wasn’t looking for real commitment, when Castle was actually afraid that showing how serious he was about them would spook her. I really liked this explanation, even if in big part, the insecurities resurfaced in those last episodes because it was the end of the season and the writers couldn’t think (NSA)

of another way to stir drama. I would certainly have preferred a proposal in other circumstances, because the part in S5 looked really serious (see Castle’s face), and there was this terrible misunderstanding between them for a minute. And yes, in the second half of S6 C&B were essentially giddy in regards to the wedding, and you’ve just made me realize that seeing a wider range in emotions would probably have made those episodes better. While I didn’t like the first wedding dress, (NSA)

the scene with Beckett in front of the mirror was a great moment in that regard. In 6x23, this thing with Rogan certainly came out of the blue, and you already know what I think of this episode.I really liked 7x23, but I have to admit that there weren’t any hints to Hollander’s Woods in previous eps either. More generally, there were many themed episodes in S7 I believe, so that didn’t really contribute to a sense of cohesiveness between the eps. About 2x24, until now, (NSA)

I was mainly sad because Castle was leaving the precinct with Gina at his arm, in front of everyone, may I add; and as Gina is his ex-wife, it felt more serious to me than a fling atm. But you’re absolutely right that there’s actually more to it than that, and geez that makes this ending even more heartbreaking. On the other hand, I really love 2x12 because of how Kyra is portrayed, so I’ve got to admit that Kate’s jealousy was fun for me too in that particular ep. (NSA)

Wow, I didn’t expect you to write a whole paragraph in French, especially now that you’re telling me you don’t practice the language as often anymore

, nor used to writing such long messages in one go in English (it’s probably easier for me to chat or to talk). But I’m up to the challenge because I love getting the opportunity to discuss the show with you, plus it doesn’t hurt that you always give really awesome answers in return. Thank you for that, by the way! I’m going to finish by sharing with you what I thought of your newest one shot. I actually wrote down the following “sentences” as I was reading the fic, (NSA)

so you’re getting here my unbridled scene-by-scene reactions. Warning: there’s gonna be some serious rambling involved (but you know that about me now :p) The beginning: ouch, painful, but it wouldn’t totally be a fic of yours if there wasn’t at least some angst involved (except for some rare occurrences), right? / That was a twist, even if I was intrigued right away by the supernatural aspect of your fic; the best part is, you copied the beginning of the scene in the summary and I didn’t (NSA)

The scene with the popcorn is so sweet, so them, so in character. / Castle is alive! And babyyyy. / Oh okay, we’re back to the theater now; is the baby real or is just a way to motivate them? (I think it’s real, let’s hope it’s real) / Aww a glimpse into the future, I think I see where we’re headed now; and mmh still a mention of a hospital bed even in that scene, nice (I pictured a nursery at first) / Oh okay, it will actually be a constant back and forth before the final scene encased (NSA)

in reality. OMG I’VE BEEN HERE BEFORE, she so saw what happened in “Always” the first time she was here :p And that’s why she knows things he doesn’t. / Beginning of next scene: I can imagine Castle coming back to reality by wanting to join Lily when she laughs, maybe symbolically open a door or something. Okay that didn’t happen but it’s so cute! Ooh and the twins are on the way! / Ooh we don’t wake up straight to reality, but Kate’s still got her hand in his. Interesting! (NSA)

/ What the hell with Caleb Brown??? And here it comes. A taxi, good! / Didn’t we have those lines before? I’m checking…yess we did! Everything is definitely accurate then :) / And okay, I should watch Criminal Minds (I guess that’s what CM means?) more often because I didn’t get the reference ^^ All I can now say is wow, I have no words (well, I sure had them before), it was so fantastic. One of your best works, if not the best. (NSA)

The succession of short scenes made it really pleasant to read as well. I’m sure Rickcastlefromthailand has loved her birthday gift! ;) Until next time, Callie! NSA 19/19 PS: The length of these messages is getting out of hand LOL.

Hi!

In my opinion, you should definitely read the Harry Potter series. While I haven’t read the French version, so I can’t comment on its quality compared to the English version, but I will say there’s a certain beauty and wittiness to J.K. Rowling’s writing that may or may not have been reflected in the translation. However you choose to read them, though, I would definitely recommend it. That being said, I actually haven’t seen the movies. Or any of the other “cult” movies you mentioned. My movie watching is so minimal, I have a long list of movies I have to see, per my friends. lol. (oops?)

Upon further reflection, I have to agree that the idea of them working together through the separation would have most certainly been more flawed than the story line we were presented. I also agree that there is a certain degree of doubt that, despite their separation, Castle would have been spared in the event that LokSat went after Beckett in the early portion of the season. Personally, I doubt such a criminal would have spared the person who has so often presented himself as Beckett’s partner in crime, especially since both of them have shown great dedication to finding the truth. If nothing else, I imagine LokSat would have been aware of the fact that Castle would likely would have gone to great lengths to find out what happened to Beckett, whether they were separated or not. And LokSat, who doesn’t seem to be someone who cares about bloodshed, likely would have gone after Castle if only to avoid that hassle and inevitably doing it later.

Your description of the transition phase is also very accurate, in my opinion. Idk if you saw, but Raina (bravevulnerability) recently wrote about why Castle forgives Beckett so easily in her fics, and explained that forgiving someone doesn’t necessarily mean everything is okay/back to normal. In a way, I feel that this is what the reunion in season 8 lacked. Spare for Fidelis Ad Mortem (8x15), and the struggles in that episode, and the entire concept of hiding their reunion, there was a distinct lack of lingering emotions. Of course, to an extent, these could have passed during the winter hiatus, but I do think a certain degree of lingering doubts, even if communicated through subtle questioning and strange glances would have added a layer of authenticity of their reunion.

As for season 5, I think there’s a distinct difference in the insecurity expressed in episodes such as 5x08 and 5x18 compared to 5x10 and especially the end of the season. By which I mean, the prior instances seem to be more of a personal insecurity, a “will this work out” and “am I good enough for this person”, whereas the end of the season portrays the insecurity of “does this person want a serious relationship like I do”. The prior, to me, makes sense. Both characters have shown underlying insecurity throughout the series, so their doubts about being good enough for each other and/or compatible after all the effort put into their relationship are justified. What the end of the season does, however, is seem to make Beckett forget this commitment and effort that Castle has put in, as though he didn’t spend a year waiting to be with her, as though they hadn’t been together for a year, as though he hadn’t risked his life for her multiple times, one of which had just happened, in Still.

While I do agree that it’s highly possible that Castle would have evaded questions about their future out of fear of spooking Beckett, my problem with that is that it wasn’t shown at all prior to her doubts coming to surface. Which, in my opinion, is a failure of the writers, who knew where the season was going, as this is pre-planned, and didn’t take it upon themselves to present any semblance of build up to their end of season drama, in a way that made it seem implausible and almost juvenile. (Honestly, Beckett’s fears reminded me of something one would see with a couple who’s been hooking up for a few months, or playfully together with far less history, rather than a couple like Caskett). So for me, while this concept of the why being totally plausible and even a pleasant thought, in a way, my problem is that the writers didn’t execute that concept, and rather presented these doubts as something caused by Castle not wanting to sleep with Beckett in that one moment.

And for season 6, yes, I loved the moment in front of the mirror in 6x14. It’s a perfect example of how their past, personal struggles as individuals and as a couple could have been entwined. While I wouldn’t have liked a fulls season of merely rehashing the same doubts, I definitely think emotions such as those in that scene could have greatly improved the season for people such as myself who didn’t find great enjoyment in the giddy checklist style we did get.

Gah the reactions of the rest of the characters in 2x24 is truly heartbreaking, too. And I certainly agree that there’s a greater severity to that scene given that Gina is his ex-wife and not just a fling. I also think that 2x12 was a truly enjoyable episode. I actually really enjoyed Kyra, and the jealousy in that episode.

And aw! I hope my speaking French could bring you joy. I honestly need to use it more often, since I don’t want to lose it or my status as bilingual. And I’ve also used Duolingo, albeit to learn Spanish, and while it’s fun and teaches the basics, for sure, I find that eventually I get bored of doing the same lessons over and over again and just quit. Oops.

I’m also so glad my comments on your English could make you happy. I honestly had no idea you weren’t a native English speaker, so you certainly use the language well, even if it’s outside your comfort zone. I have to admit, I’m glad you feel okay with stepping outside your comfort zone for these messages, because I truly enjoy these exchanges we have.

And gaaaah I love your thoughts on my fic so much. Rambles are my favorite and it made me so happy to read your thoughts as you read, knowing where you were in the story and what was coming. I am so, so glad you enjoyed my odd little one-shot. And thank you so, so much for your compliments. I must admit, I’m fairly proud of that story as it went outside my comfort zone and into a genre I don’t usually explore, in a style not truly like my usual one, so to know it was well executed means the world to me.

(Also yes you should watch more Criminal Minds. Besides Castle, it is probably my favorite show lol).

Thank you, again, for this lovely message. I hope you have a good day, week, etc. Until next time!

Callie xx

(And yes these messages really are getting really long lol).