#Casey is a burnt out gifted kid in my head

[incorrectlifewithderek]

Casey: I can’t believe I forgot my meds… again.

Derek, who has been working nonstop: Take your meds or I won’t come over.

Casey: You’re not gonna come over anyway… you’re too busy.

Derek: Take your meds because I care about you, Princess and I wanna see you be healthy.

[god-save-the-keen]

A complicated day

Pairing: Bryce Lahela x F!MC

Book: Open Heart 2

Warning: None

Words: 1589

Note: English it's not my native language so be patient with me 😌

Here is my collaboration for 12 days of Fictmas! Hope you all enjoy it! Thanks for hosting this again @leelee10898 and @emichelle! ❤️

Writers: @texaskitten30 @zaffrenotes @alj4890 @burnsoslow @kat-tia801 @darley1101 @msjr0119 @annekebbphotography @plumeriavibes @ofpixelsandscribbles @camillemontespan @ao719 @cocomaxley @cordoniansgonewild @twinkleallnight @the-soot-sprite @cordoniantrash @axwalker @innerpostmentality @lucy-268 @janezillow @katedrakeohd

Readers: @mom2000aggie @sfb123 @bbrandy2002 @debramcg1106 @desireepow-1986 @speedyoperarascalparty @hopefulmoonobject @drariellevalentine

Permanent tagg list: @eileendannie @desireepow-1986 @dawn-1994 @darley1101 @blackcatkita @flyawayboo @drakewalker04 @choicesficwriterscreations @mrawxs

Bryce Lahela x MC tagg list: @anotherbeingsworld

Open Heart tagg list: @mskaneko @x-kyne-x

"What are your plans for the holidays?" Casey asked as they walked to his place after a double shift. Her small hand was in his and her thin fingers were tangled with his as her thumb caressed distractedly his skin.

"Well, Keiki's coming back for the break so I guess we'll stay at my place."

"You aren't going to Hawaii?"

"Nah. I might have talked with my parents a couple of times and I might have put a stop to my resentment towards them, but that doesn't change what they did. Especially after all that Keiki told us."

"So, are you going to be the two of you here, alone?"

"Trust me, Cass, I've had worst holidays." His hand squeezed hers reassuring. "What about you?"

"I was thinking of going home… I haven't seen my family since I moved here."

"I bet you miss them. Like I'm going to miss you." He added with a playful wink.

"Maybe not. I'd like for you and Keiki to come with me."

"You really can't stay away from me, can't you Valentine?" Bryce shot a cocky smirk in her way as she rolled her eyes although the corners of her lips rose up a little. She stopped walking and tugged his hand, making him turn towards her.

"Hey, I mean it. I want to spend the holidays with you and Keiki as well."

"Are you sure?" He took a small piece of falling hair and put it behind her ear, gently brushing her skin and she nodded, smiling at the sweet gesture.

"Of course I'm sure! Talk with Keiki about it and let me know what she thinks." They started to walk again as Bryce's arm sneaked around her waist.

"Your family will be okay with that?"

"I may kinda tell them about you already."

Her cheeks redden a bit. "And there's a chance that they want to meet you."

"Did you tell them how great I am?" Bryce smiled confidently, his finger softly squeezing her waist as she giggled.

"Oh yeah, I told them to make the door hole bigger for your ego." She playfully nudged his side and he chuckled. "And… How you stayed with me during the attack and how worried you were about me. And how important you are for me."

"You are important for me too." He kissed the side of her head as their feet continued walking almost at their own.

The weeks passed and, after talking with Keiki about it, they organized the trip. The plan was easy. Or at least, it should have been. They had planned everything with Casey, the plane tickets, going for Keiki at her school, the presents, the luggage, everything was ready. But, sometimes, things don't work out the way it was expected.

"So, we finish our shift in one hour, you go for Keiki, I grab my luggage, go to your place and do the online check in, then we take an Uber from there to the airport." Casey closed her locker stretching her back a bit. "Should be easy."

"Ready to meet the parents-in-law, Lahela?" Jackie asked, smirked mockingly from her own locker.

"You kidding? Parents love me. Especially if they have good taste as their daughter." In that instant, all the beepers started to blare.

"E.R. A burning building." They all headed to the emergency entrar, a few ambulances already at the door. Casey ran toward an unconscious man with his face burnt as Bryce followed a bed in which a woman laid with an iron rod going through her leg. He washed his hands and prepared, once the patient was asleep, his hand started to move around the wound stable and firm as he slowly and with the assistant of a nurse pulled out the long iron tube.

"Suction." His voice commendatory and his eyes glued in the patient. The nearest nurse immediately reacted but the blood kept coming. Two hours and half, he was leaving the patient room after talking with the family and rushing to the ER once more. Before anyone had noticed, another four hours had passed and the hectic rhythm had finally calmed down.

"Okay, I'm not going to lie, that was a little set back--"

"A little? Going to Keiki's and back is four hours, the airport it's forty minutes away and we still need the luggages and do the check in and the plane leaves in seven hours!" Casey said incredulously, as they rushed to the parking lot to Bryce's car.

"--But we still can work with it!" He said so confident that Casey almost relaxed as his cell vibrated. "It's Keiki."

'Rushing late?' Keiki wrote with an annoying emoji.

'You think?' He answered with the same face. 'On our way.' He sat behind the wheel as Casey took the passage seat, they headed straight for Keiki's school, making one stop to take away coffee as Bryce asked her more about her family. He already knew that she had a big brother, two small nieces, a few cousins and a pretty good relationship with her parents. He knew that she missed them and talked to them at least once a week.

"Finally!" Keiki dropped her luggage in the backseat. "Hi Cass!"

"She gets a full 'Hi Cass' and I only received annoying emojis and complaints?" Keiki rolled her eyes and hugged her big brother and Bryce bearhugged her back. "That's better."

"Okay, we still have five hours until the flight, with a little luck we may have time to take a break before that."

"Casey?" Bryce looked surprised at his sister's shy tone.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for including me. You didn't have to."

"Not including you never was even an option Kei, it is my absolute pleasure!" She turned her head to watch the teenager in the backseat, grinning. "They will love you."

"What about me?" Bryce asked playfully, giving her his best puppy eyes.

"You are the one dating me so you are in a tough spot, Lahela."

"Ouch."

"Nervous, Bryce?" Keiki said in what was supposed to be an innocent tone.

"Please." He shrugged cockily.

"Hey, the road is pretty clear! Maybe we have time after all!" Casey pointed, cheerfully, watching through the window until her face falled down. "Oh no! I jinx it!" A police officer was standing in the, now closed, road swerving cars to the right.

"We still have time." Bryce took her hand and laced his finger with hers as the car slowed down, until stopped at the end of a long line of cars. "Don't worry gorgeous." She squeezed his hand back, leaning her back in the seat as her head fell back, sighing and closing her eyes for a moment.

"You are right. And there's nothing we can do about it." After three hours of frustration waiting, they finally pulled over in Casey's apartment so she could grab her luggage.

"So, did you bought it?" Keiki leaned in the space between the two front seats, talking conspiracy low and watching to the building front door.

"Yeah, I retired it before work, I still have it with me." Bryce took a small velvet box and opened. Inside a white gold heart locket sparkles as he hands it to Keiki. "What do you think?"

"It's perfect for her. She is going to love it." Bryce smiled. It was not only the first time that they spent a holiday together or the first time that he brought her something, it was also the first time he brought a gift to someone this special for him. And he was ready to put all his feelings for her out.

"Thanks for giving me your opinion about it, Kei."

"I know you would be lost without me." She said smoothly.

"Don't push it, kid."

"She's coming." Bryce shoved the box back in his pocket and rushed outside the car to help her. They went to his place, parked in the building parking lot in a space that Bryce had rented for those days, and dash to his apartment.

"You grab your luggage and meanwhile I call an Uber."

"Perfect." He went towards his bedroom and, checking that Casey couldn't see him, placed the box in the bottom of the suitcase, covering it with clothes and finally closing it. Bryce was convinced that if anyone ask him how they made it to the plane, he wouldn't know the answer, he knew they had ran through the airport, like the McCallister family in 'Home Alone', that the check in had been the most slow one he ever made in his entire life and the judging looks as they embarked after delayed the plane for twenty minutes.

Keiki took the window seat, immediately putting her headphones over her head as Bryce sat in the middle with Casey at his left. She scratched her back and rolled her shoulders, yawing.

"Cass, are you okay? Today was..."

"... Awful?" He chuckled.

"That's one way to put it."

"You are here so I'm more than okay."

"You flatter me, Valentine."

"Yeah, well… After all, there's a reason why you are the first guy I take home for the holidays." She leaned her head on the side of his arm, closing her eyes as her hand found his and gently took it.

"You want to know a little secret?" He asked close to her ear.

"Shoot."

"You are the first I spend the holidays with. Ever." Her eyes kept close but her smile brightened up her whole face, showing, without words, how happy she was.

❣️

[spectrumscribe]

a crow’s murder, a jay’s party, and a magpie’s parliament.

@guide-to-the-galaxy presenting my late birthday present to you: a harrowing adventure with our three favorite kids set in the amazing AU you gifted to me on my birthday.

please enjoy some ghostly misadventures and somewhat mushy romance, the most important factors to a story. <3

((for those not in the know: this is a Mystery Gang AU featuring capritello and paranormal shenanigans. human AU obviously, minor gore and spooky moments, and the races for each of the kids are as follows: April is black, Donnie is blasian, and Casey is native.))

April doesn’t wear makeup often. It’s expensive and tricky to use. Usually she has no patience for it and all the fuss it takes to wear it; particularly that when she chooses to show her boys some affection, it leaves evidence and people always Talk when two teenage boys have the same color left on their cheeks and there’s only one girl to be seen. 

April is sensible and to the point and doesn’t enjoy nosy, judging assholes making assumptions of her and her two companions. It makes her reach for her bat, and there are unfortunately few situations where that’s the correct response.

But, on the rare occasion, makeup is acceptable. She’s found, as she, Donnie, and Casey have faced stranger and more dangerous creatures on their journey crosscountry- having some battle paint on her face makes the experience less terrifying, more thrilling.

Bloody red on her lips is the go to, and April always applies it with care. It stands pleasantly stark against her dark skin and yellow sweaters, and she enjoys the tacky feeling it leaves on her skin as they go to face whatever monster or ghoul they’ve stumbled across tonight. It feels like a challenge, and April does indeed mean it that way to whoever and whatever they encounter.

Of course. This means she tends to get in over her head, more often than not.

Thank god she’s never flying solo.

...usually.

-///-

April rolls her shoulders, testing for a twinge to indicate something out of place or possibly broken. All she gets is uncomfortable muscle aches, and she knows she’ll be feeling that for the next few weeks at least.

Small price to pay, honestly, for falling through the floor of an abandoned mine shaft.

April counts to ten with her eyes closed, swallowing her brief fear, and then opens them again into darkness. There’s no sound around her except for her own breathing, and never has April ever wanted so dearly to her the voices of her boys.

So. She’s fallen down deeper into a haunted mine, she has no idea where she is, and hasn’t been able to find her god damn bat anywhere so far. Or the flashlight and radio that fell out of her hands during her fall, for all the good the malfunctioning radio might have done.

Rumor from the small town this mine is near is that the spirits haunting it are malevolent. A family gave them firsthand accounts of their son being dragged by an unseen force, towards the hollow mouth of the tunnels. He’d gotten away, but there’d been dark bruises shaped like hand prints around his ankles. 

There really isn’t any dispute that there’s a hostile spirit here, what with tens of other accounts like that scattered through the community and stretching back whole generations. April blows out a harsh breath and mutters about that being, “-just the icing on top of the cake, great.”

She and her boyfriends need to stop splitting up to cover more ground. April isn’t sure how many more times they’ll get out of things like this unscathed.

She fumbles around a bit more, cursing whenever her fingers and knuckles scrape on stone rubble. April nearly shouts in triumph when she finally feels the plastic of a flashlight handle, and turns it on immediately.

She’s blinded for a long few seconds, blinking as her eyes adjust. Then, April grins as she spots the handle of her bat sticking out of the rubble, just on the other side of the mound. It only takes some shoving and kicking of heavy stone to get it free, and finally April is armed again with her blessed bat.

Definitely one of their more worthwhile afternoon’s, negotiating a retired and grumpy priest into doing a ceremony for an aluminum bat’s holy blessing. It’s seen them through ghouls and goblins alike. The question now is if it’ll work on malevolent spirits of wronged miners.

No signs of her radio, and the tunnel above April is far out of reach; the one she stands in with smooth sides and a too short mound of stone to jump from. April isn’t going to get anywhere, hanging out here and waiting for rescue.

So she slings her bat across her shoulders, aims her flashlight forwards, and starts walking in the direction she hopes is outwards.

-///-

April met Donnie because they lived close to one another, and as a result attended the same school.

Donnie had been the lankiest boy of all their class, tall as weed grass and growing just as fast. He’d had too-big glasses set on his face, magnifying cinnamon red eyes, and his hair hadn’t seem to know if it wanted to be smooth or wiry, sometimes being both in the same spots.

He’d worn hand-me-down shirts too short for his torso, jeans that always showed his ankles, and had a perpetual curious glint to his eyes. April had been drawn to him because underneath the sensibility and scientific deductions, Donnie had an impulsive streak a mile wide for ventures most would deem severely ill-advisable. Like April did, despite her pigtails and yellow dresses and friendly politeness.

And he talked back, really talked back, to anyone who talked down at him. April had been the sort to just stomp someone’s toes when they did that to her, and Donnie’s cutting remarks and pointed quips had made her laugh until her sides hurt.

He and his brothers. They really did end up as a second family to her, in all their chaos and familial bickering. Donnie had just been the one April got especially close with in the end, being the charming string-bean he was.

Especially after the night she said “I want to hold a seance to contact my dead mother I don’t even remember.” and he’d said “Okay.” without missing a beat.

-///-

April meets a dead end in the tunnel, after walking forever in increasingly tight and rough hallways, and realizes with a sinking sensation she’s gone the wrong way.

It figures with her luck she’d wander straight into the heart of the tragedy. The place a miscounted crew of miners- forgotten by a careless boss during clearance- were blown to bits and then buried in a dynamite blast.

April wonders if she should put her and her boys’ curiosity for the dangerous adventures in life to bed for a few weeks, and see if they can hunt again for Fresno Nightcrawlers instead of malevolent spirits.

Upside to the situation: April hasn’t talked directly to the spirits or invited contact. There’s a chance she’ll get out of this place unnoticed and-

April’s flashlight flickers rapidly, despite being brand new from the hardware store in town.

“Oh don’t you fucking dare,” April accuses her light source, and swears violently as it goes out. She smacks the butt of it against her thigh, praying its a fluke and the batteries will kick back in any second.

The flashlight refuses to come back to life and April is caught between being pissed off and instinctively terrified of being in pitch black darkness.

April finds the wall, pushing down her panic by grounding herself in the sightless void she’s trapped in. Count off the tools you have at your disposal, she reminds herself. Bat. Wits. Determination. Fight or flight instincts. Broken ass flashlight.

April wishes she could count Donnie’s calm directions and Casey’s bolstering bluster over the radio, which she doesn’t have, and probably would have been out of range from anyways.

She wishes she could reach out and grab their hands, in this moment. Lanky and nimble fingers of two people she never expected to be as embarrassingly smitten with as she is.

But they’re not here right now, so. Buck up, O’Neil. Shrinking violet never suited you.

April sets her bat down between her legs, holding it there with her knees while she unscrews the flashlight’s parts. Maybe if she fusses with the batteries they’ll come back to life and she won’t be stuck in the dark of a creepy, dangerous, extremely haunted tunnel system-

-and it’s suddenly much easier to see what she’s doing with the flashlight. Probably because there’s something faintly glowing somewhere behind her.

April freezes, the same time as the air around her does.

The glow gets brighter, and every hair on her body stands straight up.

“Son of a bitch,” April mutters, and glances over her shoulder.

She’s expecting it, but the translucent apparition- apparitions- still make a scream bubble in her throat. The miners, all in varying states of physical deterioration, have surrounded her from behind. Parts of their bodies are missing- arms and legs, gone- some skulls crushed and others missing completely- burnt or broken limbs reaching towards April and gaping mouths open still in everlasting screams of agony.

April screams back at them, and drops her useless flashlight.

She comes back up swinging, intent to at least stun the one closest to her.

Her bat goes right through the ghost miner’s face.

April stares in horror at her failed weapon- the very first time it’s ever done so- and realizes how utterly fucked she is.

“I want my damn money back,” April spits, and she ducks a clawing hand.

-///-

April met Casey while standing over a grave, which likely set the tone for their relationship following.

He’d been ragged around the edges, dressed in a suit baggy in all the wrong spots and looking like his world had fallen apart from underneath him. Black hair in a tight braid down his neck, and warm brown eyes surrounded by even warmer brown skin; he’d been someone who looked like they used to brim with life, but now had lost the spark that made them so alive.

And he’d look at April and Donnie, knee deep in the process of digging up someone’s remains, and he’d asked what they were doing in a graveyard with shovels and a freshly dug hole.

When she’d answered,  “We’re looking for ghosts, because there’s one haunting the deli a few blocks that way, and it’s origin is coming directly from the coffin sitting about six feet below our feet,” and Donnie had chimed in, “Give or take a few inches,” Casey’s eyebrows had gone up a few inches, and a sliver of the life April suspected him to have returned to his eyes.

“That’s pretty metal,” He’d said instead of calling them crazy, and April had the prevalent notion that this was someone they were going to get along with just fine.

He told them later why he’d been in the graveyard, that his mom had died, confessing so between ghostly encounters and getting to know each other’s quirks, and he’d said it in such a quiet and vulnerable voice April hadn’t been able to stop her hands from cupping his cheeks, or her lips finding a place on his.

Funny how her boyfriend had watched with interest instead of jealousy, and Donnie’s hand had ended up tangled with Casey’s not long after; long fingers tracing each other’s knuckles and holding tight in the privacy of narrow alleyways and darkened rooms. 

Adrenaline inducing adventures did wonders to speed up a budding relationship.

-///-

April’s knees impact the stone floor, grinding sharp edges of rough ground into her jeans and skin, and she’s up faster than the pain can register.

Why the blessing on her bat aren’t working- April is going to have words with that priest- is a untimely mystery for her current situation. She should be able to give a good smack to anything that has evil intent-

-unless the beings currently chasing her aren’t evil and in fact are just tormented souls of unfortunate men and god damn April wishes she’d remembered the fine print of things before traipsing into a nest of restless spirits.

April isn’t sure how she’s staying ahead of he translucent men. She isn’t going to question too deeply the logistics of a human outrunning a mob of ghosts.

Somethings snags the ends of her braids, and April yelps as it tugs hard on her hair. Her feet slip as she’s pulled backwards.

She falls.

April’s skull impacts the stone and flittering sparks fill her vision. The unnatural glow that barely lights the tunnel swims around her as the spirits do, guttural sounds and distant watery voices filling the rapidly thinning air.

A man missing half his face looms over her, giving April an up close view of his destroyed features. A hollow where his eye socket and left ear should have been, showing burnt and dripping viscera inside his skull.

He makes a sound displaced from where it should come from, and dives down at her.

April’s vision whites out as she screams.

-///-

She’s lying with her wife, young and beautiful and carrying their child. It’s only a few more months, and her stomach’s bump is signal that soon they’ll need more space, more food, more income...

“Be safe,” She says, gently cupping April’s cheek and giving a pleading look. “I know those tunnels aren’t as safe as people pretend they are.”

“Of course I’ll be,” April replies, cupping the hand on her cheek and smiling into it. “You know I always am.”

Someone snorts outside April’s range of vision, a deeper sound than any woman usually makes. “Uh huh, sure O’Neil. Like you were careful runnin’ headfirst at a crow monster when it got it’s claws in me.”

April blinks, and the young woman beside her melts into a man, dark skinned with wild short hair. Donnie looks back at her, still pleading, and Casey’s arm wraps around them both from behind April’s back.

“You’ll watch my back,” April finds herself repeating, from hours ago when they were just considering entering the mines. This already happened.

Donnie rolls his eyes, and moves close enough to brush his lips over hers. “Obviously. That’s possibly the only constant we have.”

April feels his lips on hers, feels Casey’s against her neck, and knows this isn’t where she should be, warm and lulling as it is.

She feels the presence that doesn’t belong, swimming and swelling all around this precious moment that belongs only to April and her boys.

She closes her eyes to Donnie, pushes bother her boys away, and delves into the pool of strength in her core.

This isn’t real. You don’t belong here. Get OUT of my head, THIS DOESN’T BELONG TO YOU.

My life didn’t belong to them, counters the spirit in her, and April feels again the love and agony and loss that this miner had- losing his wife and child and future all in one horrible mistake- and her will wavers.

But. She’s dealt with possession before.

Eat shit, she tells the miner, and draws on the fire inside her. The scene around her blurs, her boys still tucked close to her, but steadily disintegrating as she forcibly burns out the invasion of her mind.

WAIT! he begs, and something slides across her vision just as April burns up the last of the scene and the combined memory of their loved ones.

Something dark, something horrifying. Something that’s been keeping all these miners trapped here for decades and been making them pay for the social crucifixion it’d suffered after it’s mistakes in life.

Something corrupted. Something evil.

Something April can hit.

April drops out of the dream, the vision of a warped and demonic spirit chasing her as she does.

-///-

“Is this really going to work?” Donnie had asked, whisper quiet and said without looking either of them in the eye. “Can we really. Really be us?”

Curled together in the back of a van, newly bought and newly broken in, in all the important ways- April knew Donnie was revealing something he would probably only ever reveal this once.

She’d pressed closer, putting her nose to his hair and saying, “We’re planning on going cross country to hunt things no one really believes in, after dealing with some of those things just in our neighborhood multiple times. I think there’s plenty things more impossible than us managing being us.”

“What she said,” Casey had mumbled, and thrown his long limbs over both of them, reassuring in the way he knew best. Physical shows of affection and loyalty. April had grinned against Donnie’s ear, kissing it and making him squeak between her and Casey, and she’d believed they really could be.

Now, she opens her eyes to Donnie over top of her, glasses shining in the unnatural glow of the ghosts surrounding them, and April hears him and Casey both shouting at her.

April lifts a hand, clutching at the deep purple sweater she’d made Donnie start wearing. The stark relief in his expression at her responsiveness is obvious, and April manages a tight smile as her head pounds.

“Where’s my bat?” She asks the second her cottony feeling tongue will let her.

Donnie laughs hoarsely, and hauls her off the ground and against his chest. “Of course you ask where your bat is right after being possessed. Of course.”

“She’s awake?!” Casey demands, standing guard over them both. April sees him over Donnie’s shoulder, clutching her bat and giving wildly angry and terrified looks at the ghosts ringing them.

April sits up properly, leaning only somewhat on Donnie as she gets off the icy and uncomfortable ground. “Yeah, I’m okay. Just had a headmate for a moment there.” She reaches out, tugging at the black sweater Casey wears. “Gimme my bat. Sweet as it is, you don’t need to protect us from these guys. They already said everything they needed to.”

Casey makes a disbelieving sound, but like he almost always does, he trusts her. Even with a dozen some ghosts surrounding them and sticky blood on the back of April’s neck, he hands over her bat with only a beat of hesitance.

April sets it’s wide end on the ground, subtly leaning on it for support. She clears her throat as her boyfriends come to stand at her side, and she speaks clearly as she’s able to post-possession. “Attention gentlemen,” April says with straight shoulders, even though her head aches fiercely. “We’re paranormal hunters, and we’re here to free you from your haunting.”

“We are?” Casey asks in a mumble, and Donnie shushes him. April continues, “I’ll forgive you for the trespassing and general violation of my brain, but please. Don’t do that again.” Her temples throb and April tastes something wrong in the air on her tongue. She grins with her crimson lips. “So, as Mr. Mc’Millin so kindly shared with me, there’s a certain someone who’s the real culprit of those accidents, isn’t there?” April grins wider as the circle of ghosts wail angrily.

“...care to fill us in on things?” Donnie whispers in her ear, just as a shiver goes through the air. His hands land on April’s shoulders, steadying and protective as something viscerally wrong makes itself known. Casey’s don’t, but April knows he’s probably gone back to back with Donnie as they search for the threat.

“We’ve had a change in target,” April explains, and hefts her bat as the tunnel rushes with unnatural wind. “What do you think a small town would do to someone, if they killed the fathers, husbands, brothers, and sons of a community?”

Something glows, back the way she came running from, and it’s much bigger than the faint ones of the miners. It gets brighter and brighter as it approaches, and April’s bat lights up with holy light to match it.

The inscribed biblical symbols along it’s length burn white, giving it an appropriately angelic halo. With an evil presence in range, it practically hums with energy to cleanse and destroy.

April really does love her bat.

Donnie draws his weapon as well- a modified .41 caliber Colt House Revolver with four rounds of cleansing silver bullets for ammo- and April hears the a bullet slide into the chamber with a soft click as he aims. Casey steps slightly ahead of them both, black sleeves rolled up to display his thickly inked tattoos; swirling protection wards drawn by an elder of his nation and threaded directly into his very being. Casey grins, wolfish as the single claw charm hanging from his neck; Donnie narrows his eyes at their rapidly approaching target, utterly concentrated.

April gives it a wide smile, toothy as anything and worthy of the bright red of her lips.

“Holy shit,” Casey breathes through his bared teeth, just as things rush into motion. “So. Metal.”

The malformed, rage twisted being rushes into sight; it’s mass owed to decades of building, festering hatred for the miners he’d thoughtlessly murdered in life. What’s left of the mine’s former owner is nothing short of monstrous, howls from it’s hungry, gaping mouth echoing all around them as it half flies, half lopes towards them. It’s huge, and terrifying, and everything that goes bump in the night.

April jumps forwards, and hits it in the face with a resounding clap of purity and taint colliding.

Donnie fires off one of his precious few shots soon as she’s clear, the corrupted spirit screaming as the blessed metal blasts through it’s chest, and Casey dodges in to give it a well deserved uppercut not a second later.

April winds up for another blow, and falls into the violent dance she and her boys have perfected.

-///-

April blows out around the cigarette in her mouth, white smoke clouding the air as she sits in the back of their van. Her split lip throbs as she satisfies her oral fixation, but its barely holding a candle to the goose egg on the back of her skull.

Casey’s legs hang over the edge with hers, limp as he lies backwards on their shared mattress stuffed into the van. With the back doors open as they wait for Donnie in the phone booth next to the road, April mires in the victory of their successful exorcism.

The woman who’d asked them to help in the first place, Annie Mc’Millin, descendant of the miner they’d set free, had been so thankful to them all. Few people in the town admitted aloud that there were Things in the mines, and having Annie’s local knowledge had really helped.

She’d been so glad to know her son hadn’t been hurt by her great grandfather; glad enough to cry a little. April thinks that has to be the best part of their victory.

That, and the nice blankets she’d given them. Things got cold in the van, even with three people sharing space.

April takes her cigarette out of her mouth, tapping it’s red stained length to drop ash on the ground. In the quiet evening, adrenaline long gone and just aches left behind, April feels pretty damn good for a woman who’s recently been possessed.

Casey might take a little longer to recover, seeing as he’d been nailed in the chest by a ghostly punch. He has a pretty large bruise center of his chest, and April knows he’s going to either pretend he’s perfectly fine or that he can’t lift a finger for fear of worse injury. And it will last at least two weeks, possibly a month, because hes an over dramatic idiot who takes hits for people he cares about.

April and Donnie had both called him a moron, Donnie especially loud since the hit was meant for him. Casey had grinned and said it was nothing, that his protective wards meant out of all them, it’s him that can take the most hits and still get back up afterwards.

Donnie had cuffed Casey’s ear and hugged him hard enough neither of them could breathe. April wrapped herself around them, listening to Donnie cuss Casey out for being a self-sacrificing idiot and that he should remember just because he could take the hits, didn’t mean that he should.

And Casey had laughed in a wobbly way, said “Okay, you got me there,” and pushed his face into both their chests while the smell of broiled rock and singed salt cleared from the air. It’d been a sound that made April’s chest tight with a hundred desperate emotions, and a rough sniffle come from Donnie.

April thinks they couldn’t have found a better boyfriend, standing in that graveyard in the middle of the night.

Speaking of boyfriends, April watches as Donnie goes through a series of increasingly sporadic arm gesticulations in the phone booth, and finally press his forehead up against the glass and seem to question his life choices very loudly, without ever saying a word.

“I think Donnie’s having a breakdown,” April says, tapping her cigarette again and dropping flakes on the road. She nudges Casey’s leg with her knee. “Hey, babe, wake up. Our boyfriend is having a breakdown in the phone booth.”

Casey makes an incomprehensible mutter that sounds mostly asleep, and April rolls her eyes fondly. She would otherwise let him rest, but Donnie is having a crisis of some sort. All hands on deck are required.

April leans over Casey, carefully pecking him on the lips as he groans again, and hops out of the van. Donnie sees her coming, and drops the phone to open and walk out of the booth.

“Please,” He says in a faint voice, waving at the phone as a way of saying please, my wonderful amazing girlfriend, take care of my no doubt family related disaster. He sits down on the curb, putting his hands in his short and messy hair, and April pats his head as she passes.

She takes her cigarette out of her mouth as she picks up the phone. “’ello?”

“April! Yo! What’s up, girl?”

“Mikey, good to hear from you,” April leans on the side of the booth, smiling as Mikey laughs. They’ve been out of contact the last three days, and it’s nice to hear the kid brother of her boyfriend again. “What’s happening on your end of the world?”

“Ah, same old same old. I think I might get a promotion soon, though! I’m at least 70% sure my boss is about to make me prep cook.”

“Wow, that’s great, Mikey,” April knows that there’s more to this than just promotions. Donnie wouldn’t be having a Why Me moment otherwise. “How’s everyone else?”

“Boring shit, mostly. Raph sold a few good paintings, an’ Leo’s been getting a lot of good shifts lately. I gave kitty a new toy recently, too, and she hasn’t let it go since! Catnip lives up to it’s name, ha ha. She bit Leo twice just yesterday.”

April waits after the pause, feeling something else coming.

“Oh, and Leo’s a werewolf now.”

There it is.

“Mike,” April understands now why Donnie in on the curb, being comforted by the recently resurrected Casey Jones. “could you have started with the fact that your older brother is now a lycanthrope?”

“Hm. Maybe?”

“What even happened?”

“Leo took a late shift, ran into some big ass dogs on the way home last full moon, bada bing bada boom he’s bit and now cursed. We didn’t notice until the full moon on Thursday, when he, uh. Kinda transformed and ate half the couch.”

April takes a slow breath in. She’s going to need a few more cigarettes tonight, she just knows it. “Did he bite anyone else?”

“Nah. He was like, mostly cognitive, if really doggish and confused. He’s been hiding in his room ever since and won’t come out. I think he’s embarrassed about the couch incident.”

“Or maybe concerned he’ll turn one of you, too?”

“No it’s definitely the couch thing.”

April laughs, shaking her head. Three days they leave these boys unattended, and look what happens.

Casey knocks on the booth, opening the doors, and asks, “Hey, Apes? Donnie’s mumbling about dogs and couches. What’s up?”

April flicks her used butt at Casey’s feet, which he automatically stomps out. “Leo’s a werewolf,” April informs her boyfriend, and Casey makes an Oh I see noise.

“We headed back to New York, then?”

“That’d be appreciated,” Mikey says, catching Casey’s words. April nods, and Casey ducks out of the booth, headed for the van.

“I leave them alone for three days,” Donnie exclaims, throwing his hands up at the heavens. “Three days! And one of them manages to be turned into a lycanthrope. How.”

“I think our family is just special like that, hon,” April says, lip curling as Donnie curses in three languages at once. (Japanese, English, Latin. He’s too well read to curse in just one.)

“We’re very special an’ love you guys lot’s so please come home soon?” Mikey says over the phone, and April snorts.

“Give us a few days, and don’t do anything stupid before we get back.”

“Thank youuuu.”

“And tell Leo not to worry, the cavalry's on its way.”

“I’ll inform he can stop moping around like a kicked dog, now.”

“Without the canine jokes, Mikey.”

“I make no promises.”

April laughs, tells Mikey they all love him too, and hangs up. Donnie is still sitting on the curb when she steps out beside him, looking like he is still questioning what he ever did to deserve anything.

“C’mon, honey,” April encourages, hauling Donnie up by his arm. “Let’s go bail our family out of trouble. I wanted to go home and swap my clothes out anyways.”

“Three days,” Donnie repeats, gesturing at the air in exasperation. “Amazing. Incredible. I hate my family and I sincerely question how any of us manages to function around the disasters we attract.”

“Like I said,” April says, giving him a kiss on his bruised cheek. “we’re all just special like that.”

“Mgh,” Donnie says, and kisses her back instead of complaining more. Casey, probably watching the show and feeling left out, honks the horn of the van, and spurs April and Donnie into action.

April notes that she’s gone and left faint smudges on both her boys’ cheeks and lips, hardly visible in the dimming light of the evening, and is quietly pleased for that. No one else is here to see, and she thinks she deserves this bit of indulgence after all they’ve been through lately.

April rolls down the front window as she gets comfortable in the passenger seat, pressed against Donnie’s side as he sits in the middle, and smiles to herself as Casey starts up a playful banter with their boyfriend; mostly surrounding the fact that Casey’s sibling is in high school and keeping out of trouble, and Donnie’s siblings are nothing but trouble. And although Donnie agrees, he’s defensive as always of his brothers, and off the two of them go again.

April turns up the radio, listening to the synthpop it plays as they pull out of the quiet and significantly less haunted little town. Donnie lights her another cigarette without being asked to, and Casey notches up the volume as a rock song takes the place of the synthpop.

April blows smoke that flies out the window, and keeps smiling as the miles roll by.

-///-

April had one boy, through her childhood and teens, and now she has two as a young woman with wanderlust in her heart and burning curiosity in her soul. And she loves them so much she can scarcely breathe. 

Things that go bump in the night beware- April O’Neil has a bat, a blood red challenge to the world, and two lanky birds of a feather at her side.

The paranormal won’t know what hit it.

[goodlucktai]

I'm always down for any TMNT from you. I'd love to read more of your Ghost AU.

currently my fave tmnt au, how did u know?

give up the ghost

x

“We got a ton of good stuff,” Woody says happily from the backseat, panning through images on his complicated-looking camera. He looks up, grinning through a fine layer of hundred-year-old grime, and says, “We had permission to go in that house, right? From the owner?”

“Sure,” Leo says, glancing at him from the passenger side seat. They’re idling at a stop sign, because it’s twelve a.m. on a Wednesday and traffic won’t exist for another six hours; they can pretty much take all the time they want. “We always get permission first. Why?”

“‘Cause I’m thinkin’ we could upload some of this. Maybe make a Youtube channel, or a blog site. You want people to be able to find you, and an online presence is probably the best way to make that happen.”

“We have a Facebook page,” Mikey points out reasonably, eyes on the road as he pulls forward. In the reflection of the rearview mirror, Woody’s grin warms into something fond.

“For someone with a tech genius for a brother you’re a little clueless, Mikester. Trust me on this one?”

And that was never really the question; Woody has been with the club for nearly half a year now, and he hasn’t balked once at any of the things he’s seen. He goes in behind Leo and Mikey with that bulky camcorder on his shoulder, eyes focused forward and hands steady, and Mikey has come to count on his calm presence the same way he counts on Leo.

So it’s easy for Mikey to shrug and say, “‘Course, dude. I give you full creative license.”

“For that, amigo, marry me.”

And butterflies find a home in Mikey’s stomach after that. They live there happily for a handful of minutes, and Mikey is smiling like a dork at the parking lot as he turns into it, until Leo says, “Isn’t that Raph’s car?” and everything immediately sucks.

“Oh, no,” he says, spotting the station wagon. “No, no, no. Leo – “

“We can hide out at my house,” Leo says immediately. His voice is soft with sympathy, even as he adds, “But I think it’s a little too late for that.”

He’s right. Raph is leaning against the hood of his car, arms folded. It’s midnight, and he’s staking out Mikey’s apartment like a verifiable weirdo, and Mikey would rather be anywhere else right now.

Woody sighs with feeling, packing up his camera bag with unnecessary force. “This dude needs a hobby,” he mutters, one of three people in the world who are unequivocally on Mikey’s side. Mikey appreciates the show of solidarity, even though it’s hard to appreciate anything in face of the confrontation he’s in for.

He shifts glumly into park, pulls the keys out of the starter. Dusts himself off half-heartedly because that’s a lost cause, trades a long-suffering look with Leo, and then pops open the driver’s side door.

“Hi, Raph,” he says. “Didn’t expect to see you here. At my house, in the middle of the night.”

Raph gives him a once-over and his mouth tightens. “You got a minute?”

“I have lots of minutes,” Mikey says with forced good cheer. Unfortunately, he doesn’t add. To his friends he says, “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

Neither of them move. “It’s already late,” Leo says, meeting Raph’s heated look with a cool one. “Mind if I sleep over?”

“Same,” Woody pipes up. “Since we all got class in the morning, makes sense to carpool, don’t it?”

Mikey is hopelessly grateful to have them both in his life. On one hand, Raph isn’t someone he needs protecting from – Raph is a good person, and loyal to a fault, and he only comes around like this because he’s worried about Mikey, and trying to do good by the memory of his best friend by taking care of his best friend’s wayward little brother.

On the other hand, every conversation with him after Donnie died has been strained and uncomfortable, and it’s to the point now that just seeing him puts an anxious knot in the pit of Mikey’s stomach.

“Okay,” Mikey says, to all three of them. “Let’s go upstairs, I guess.”

Leo is texting someone on the quiet elevator ride up to Mikey’s floor. Since Mikey knows for a fact that Usagi isn’t awake right now and Karai is visiting her mother for the week, he has a good idea who Leo’s texting, and he’s proven right when he pushes the front door open and Donnie is nowhere to be seen.

Thanks, Leo, he thinks fervently. It’s brutally unfair to bring one of Donnie’s friends into the house without warning him first. The first time Casey dropped by unannounced, Donnie accidentally shorted out the power on the whole floor, and he was sad for days after.

Woody casually sets his bag on the table, right over Donnie’s phone. Mikey’s friends are actual ninjas and he loves them.

Leo shrugs out of his jacket, pretends not to notice the hearty rain of dust that follows the action, and folds it over the back of a kitchen chair. Raph looks equal parts exasperated and incredulous.

“I get it,” he says, “you’re his guard dogs. If I promise I’m not gonna throw a punch, will you let me talk to the kid?”

Mikey’s friends look pointedly at him. Mikey says, “Yeah, that’s. Cool. Leo, Woody, you guys can grab a shower if you want. The half-bath is off Donnie’s room, there’s a shower in there, too. Raphie and me’ll make us all somethin’ to eat real quick.”

For a second, it doesn’t look like they’re gonna move. After an obvious pause they both extract themselves from the room and head down the hall. It’s soft, Mikey only catches it because he’s listening, but they both murmur a greeting as they pass Don’s room and despite everything else that small kindness makes Mikey smile.

“Grilled cheese,” he decides aloud, and Raph dutifully heads to the fridge.

Maybe he’s making a point to be less barbed, but the silence between the two of them is closer to companionable than it has been in a long time. They butter half a loaf of bread, peel open a handful of Provolone cheese slices, and the first sandwich is assembled on the skillet, browned on one side, when Raph finally says, “Your friends don’t like me much.”

Mikey looks at him sideways. “I haven’t said anything to them to make them think – “

“Mikey, c’mon. I know that.” Raph runs a hand through his short hair, weary. “I wouldn’t like me much, either, if I was them. I don’t mean to be an asshole, kid, I’m sorry.”

“You haven’t been,” Mikey says immediately, heart bleeding for him. It’s so complicated between them anymore, but they were close, once. Close enough that Raph cares for him this much, even after everything. It makes Mikey feel small sometimes. “You’re going through something really painful, Raphie, and it’s hard. I get it.” He hesitates, and looks down at the plastic spatula in his hand, and adds, “I know I don’t make it any easier. Is Casey still mad at me?”

“Mikey,” he says it like it hurts. “He’s not mad at you. He never should’ve said what he did back then. He regrets it, he just doesn’t know how to apologize.”

“‘Sorry’ is a good place to start,” Mikey murmurs, getting a new sandwich started. It easier to look at the food than it is to look at Raph when he adds, “It’s okay if he’s mad at me, though.”

“Just stop,” Raph thunders suddenly, slamming a fist on the counter. 

The only reason Mikey doesn’t flinch is because of the company he’s been keeping lately, in a handful of haunted houses and churches across the state. Poltergeists are far more volatile than even Raphael, and with tempers much trickier. Mikey has seen far worse these days. 

Raph looks sorry for his outburst anyway, floundering for a moment before steeling himself and soldiering on. 

“You’re so – understanding. You shouldn’t be. You should be – all messed up, like the rest of us are. You should be grieving. But instead you’re actin’ like nothin’ happened. Like he ain’t gone, and you don’t miss him.”

Mikey’s heart is a solid lump in his chest. The sandwich on the stove is burning, filling the air with an acrid smell. 

“I know it ain’t true,” Raph goes on, softer. “I know that. I just don’t know why you’re actin’ like it, Mikey. It don’t make any sense to me.” 

Movement in the corner of his eye makes Mikey look up. Donnie is standing in the doorway of the kitchen, and his brown eyes are miserable behind his big glasses, and Mikey wishes with his whole heart that he could give his gift away by the hour, lend it to all the people missing people they can’t see anymore. 

“There isn’t really a textbook way to mourn somebody,” Mikey says carefully. “There isn’t a right or wrong way to hurt.”  

Raph doesn’t have an answer for that. The smoke alarm saves them both in the end, filling the strained silence with shrill beeps, and Raph leaves not long after that. 

Woody comes down the hall in a pair of borrowed pajama pants and one of their official club T-shirts, still toweling his hair dry. He gives the scorched grilled cheese a long, knowing look. 

“Raph is still grieving,” Mikey says firmly before Woody has a chance to make his remark. “He’s allowed to be difficult.”

“He’s grieving your brother,” comes the unflinching reply. “He’s not allowed to be difficult at you.”

But that’s not how grief works. It can come up from nothing, the same way love can, and it can be every bit as senseless and impossible and staggering as love can be, too.

No one gets to point at someone else and say “my grief is worse than yours, because my love was different.” No one can be the judge of that. It’s impossible to measure, impossible to make sense of. Mikey wouldn’t even want to try. 

But he doesn’t say any of that. Instead he slides an un-burnt grilled cheese onto a styrofoam plate and hands it over, with an absent, “Your shirt’s on backwards.” 

Woody scoffs but an involuntary flush rises in his cheeks – and despite everything else, Mikey can’t help but smile crookedly at the sight Woody makes, as he tries to turn the shirt around without taking it off. 

A few of those butterflies from earlier must have survived. And they must show on his face or give him away somehow, because Leo takes one look at him as he joins them in the kitchen and rolls his eyes. 

“I’m putting you both up for adoption,” he tells them dryly. 

“Empty threat,” Woody says from somewhere beneath his shirt. “You’d miss us too much.”

“I hate how sure you are of that,” Leo mutters, then reaches over to nudge Mikey’s arm. “Your turn. Shower. And then bed.” 

“Okay, mom,” Mikey says agreeably, and neatly sidesteps the punch Leo aims at his shoulder. Woody snickers, and an animated argument picks up behind Mikey as he heads down the hall. He pauses in the door of Donnie’s room, and says, “Bro?”

Donnie lifts his head to look at him, the only reply Mikey will get without his phone to serve as a communication bridge. 

“Are you okay?” Mikey asks him, feeling small. 

His brother stands and moves at a human pace across the room, and touches Mikey’s shoulder with unsubstantial fingers. His lips move, forming words Mikey can’t hear.

But at the end of it, Donnie smiles. Relieved, leaning into the hand that isn’t really there, Mikey smiles back.