#Danny expected this from his father's side more than his mother's.

[nelkcats]

Distant family

Danny didn't quite know how to feel when his mother asked him if he wanted to go visit his aunt for a few days. He assumed it was his Aunt Alicia but apparently not, which didn't leave him with much of a choice as to who it might be. He wondered if it was safe to leave Amity for so long.

Later, his mother rectified herself by saying she was more of a distant aunt of sorts, which didn't help the halfa's confusion in the least but he ended up agreeing to it. Mainly because Jazz asked him to take a vacation.

That's how he found out his aunt was Wonder Woman, because sure, why not, Aunt Diana seemed to be just as curious about his existence but didn't tie him up in her shiny golden bow so Danny considered it a win.

Apparently his grandmother was an Amazon that left Themyscira after falling in love. His mom had met Diana when she was separated from her homeland as a sort of united group of exiled Amazons.

Danny wondered what that meant for Jazz's future, at least he had a story to tell Pandora, she would be proud of his origins...probably.

[dcxdpdabbles]

I JUST SAW THESE POSTS OF DANNY BEING RAS AL GHUL CHILD LIKE THE FIRST THAT IS LIKE 25-30 YEARS OLDER THAN TALIA AND MAKE MY BRAIN WORKS FUCKING WIGGLE!?!?!??

anyway

Danny established the status quo and the disappeared for 20-60 years and the is summoned by Ra where he’s like “Dad you could’ve have called my personal phone you know that right?” And Ra’s like “YOU WENT OFF THE GRID FOR YEARS AND NEVER TOOD ME-!!??!? Now do you look different? Are you eating? What’s with comingoutthesummoningcirclefortheghostking? HMMM???”

“Ah- I knew I forgot something! Let me tell you all about it! I see you brought the whole fam and in laws let’s have dinner and discuss it- AWWWW THATS BABIES!!!” *Damian, Jason, Tim, and Dick being referred to as “babies”*

“Excuse me.” Danny then fucking tackles them in hugs and loves while dodging and/or holding their punches and kicks

"My maternal uncle is coming for a visit and likely evaluate my living arrangements.. We must be at our absolute best when he is here. " Damian announces one evening right as the family is finishing preparing for a night of crime fighting.

Everyone freezes from their respective stations, twisting around to stare at the young Robin in confusion. He doesn't notice; he is too busy making sure his katana is sharpened to perfection and balancing it on his fingertips.

"Baby Bat?" Dick calls, "What do you mean by that?"

Damian pauses in his prep work, approaching the eldest with a pretty impressive scowl. " Mother sent a messenger a few days ago about Uncle's plan audit. Should we fail it, I shall be removed into a different household."

"An audit? Removed?" Steph repeats, confused, but Damian has no idea why. He thought it was pretty apparent that Uncle Daniel would be scoring them, which would determine if Damian would be allowed to continue living within them. He has done so to all of Ra Al Ghul's offspring, and nothing his Grandfather has done has been able to stop him.

How could they think they would have more power than his grandfather?

"When shall Dusan be here?" Father asks, quickly switching on the home security. "What kind of attack should we expect?"

Damian scoffs, "Not the White Ghost. Uncle Dusan is on the other side of the world on a mission for Grandfather. No, Uncle Daniel will be the one conducting the suit. He is the eldest, after all."

Father's eyes narrow behind the white lenses of his masks. "I was unaware your mother had more siblings."

Damian considers the words, wondering how he could politely- at least he shames Alfred- remind his father that his grandfather has been around for hundreds of years. Staying at his peak through the usage of the Lazarus Pit, he has never been short of lovers.

And sometimes those lovers have given him children, many who aged and died naturally, as none has deemed worthy of the Lazarus. All except for one, the First Son, who has never needed the Pits but remained youthful and powerful on his own.

The perfect heir.

It's too bad he had abdicated long before Damian was even a thought.

"Grandfather has had many children, but Uncle Daniel is different. Special. He is the First Son."

"Capital letters," Todd cuts in, shaking his head. "It's never good when the League of Assiasans assigns capital letters. How strong is he?"

"He could easily best Grandfather and all under Grandfather's command," Damian replies, watching as the rest of the vigilantes grew uneasy by the information. It's good that they are wear of Uncle Daniel's power but they have nothing to fear of his wrath. "Uncle Daniel is a pacifist. He carries a protective core."

"A Al Ghul that a pacifist? I'll believe it when I see it." Drake droned as he was clipping on his utility belt. At once, Damian felt his body grew hot with rage. No matter what, it seemed Drake would always curse his family.

The way he says the family name drips with disrespect as if the other teen was saying a swear.

"My Uncle Daniel is a great man!" He shouts, gripping his sword so har his knuckles ache. Drake's face twists as if though he smelled something foul and the rage burning in Damian's chest spreads to his whole body.

He is just about to reach for his throwing knives when a familiar cold hand settles into his hair. "Aw thank you Little One. I love you too."

"Uncle Daniel!" Damian shouts excitably, forgetting the fool he was about to run his blades through. His uncle stands before him, the same darl night hair, warm blue eyes, and a crooked smile that had secretly comforted him in his youth.

"Where in the world did he come from!?" Damian hears one of Father's adopted brutes gasp but does not care to see who as his uncle quickly reels him in for a hug.

Hugging Uncle Daniel was like being wrapped in warm blankets in winter. He always ran rather cold, but it was lovely to be wrapped in his arms and surrounded by his protection.

It felt like nothing in the world could harm him from here.

"You seem well, Little One. Are you happy?" His uncle says. The delict of their native tongue is another comfort Damian can sink into.

"I am." He allows, snuggling his face against his stomach, as childish as it is. If only he could grow taller like his father.

"Wonderful. I'm so glad." His uncle then switches to English, ignoring all the weapons drawn and pointing at him from the Bats. Damian steps back to admire the man he wishes to grow into. "I'm terribly sorry for arriving so late, nephew. You must be tired. When is your bed time?"

"I do not have a bedtime." Damian scoffs. Uncle Daniel frowns, reaching into his chest to pull out a clipboard and a pen- he'll never get used to his uncle storing things within himself no matter how often he sees it. Damian is pretty sure he heard someone gag.

A soft click is heard as his uncle opens the pen and quickly scribbles something down. He is not tall enough to see what is written, but he can see clearly as day that his uncle selected the red ink of the muli-color pen he is using.

He only uses red when he is doing bad things. Damian breaks into a sweat. "What was that? Uncle what did you just write?"

"No bedtime. Tsk tsk." Uncle Daniel mutters, looking around the cave with disapproval. "No proper heating living space."

"Oh no! I do not live down here. This is merely the training grounds. We live upstairs" Damian quickly says, waving his hands frantically in the air as his uncle's unimpressed look. Curses, the auduit just began and already he got bad markings.

"Would you care for a tour? I shall not be going on patrol-"

"He forces you to fight crime? At your age?" Uncle barks, throwing a look of utter disgust at Father. It's the same one he gives Grandfather whenever the older man tries to raise child soldiers.

Even Damian had not been sent on any missions. His childhood had been intense training but nothing that was life-threatening.

"I volunteered to go!" He tries to defend Father, but his uncle only clicks his pen and scrambles more red ink on his paper.

Drat and Damian were actually enjoying living at the manor. He will likely have to say goodbye to it all and be moved to some house Uncle deemed more child-friendly.

"What is your diet here? Have you been taken to the doctor? Any form of therapy?" His uncle fires each question quickly, walking through Todd and Cain when they try to apprehend him without a glance.

His uncle is, and not to sound like the fools of his school, so cool.

[bluerosefox]

Taking a Chance

I want more TaliaxDanny stuff so how about this AU. Its mostly HEAVILY hinted though.

[Side note: Danny is in his 20s, maybe mid 20s btw, also enjoy my actual writing style, haven't done this in a while besides some small snippets I write]

Talia discovers the future plans Ra's has for her baby, her heir, her child. She is hurt and enraged because "How dare he! How dare he raise my son to be a sacrificial lamb just to extend his own life!" And the fact he had no plans to truly step down from being the Demon Head. (Basically the timeline where Ra's planned to overtake Damain's body)

-x-x-

Talia stared, her green eyes almost glowing toward the sleeping form of her son on her bed. Her eyes roamed his tiny face, the way he lightly dozed the day away unknowingly of the danger that had set in stone for him. Yes, being not just her son but the son of the Bat and the grandson of the Demon Head he was always going to be in danger but never had she really thought the danger would come from the very person who just declared him his heir. At least not in the way its been presented.

Talia had just discovered the fate her father, Ra's al Ghul, the same man that had held Damian not even a day ago and spoke of the future he could see Damian bring to the League once he was of age and would lead it, had actually planned for her son.

He planned on using her son, raising him to be the perfect heir.... to... to...

Use him as a vessel in the end.

He planned to leave his old decaying body, a body that was beginning to no longer respond to the Lazarus Pits as of late, and basically jump ship to a younger and better body...

The body of her son. The son she created and craved to have and raise. The son she made with her beloved's blood running in his veins.

Despite how enraged she is' Talia knows she can't confront her father. He would kill her... no he would torture her by hurting her baby to the point death would be a mercy if she tried. She also knows she can't go running to Bruce, she had burned the bridge to him ages ago when she refused to leave her father and his teachings and knows he would rip Damian away from her should she tell him what she did. He would, under the guise of protecting their child gain sole custody from Talia, set up next to nothing visitation rights for her to follow. He would say it would be to protect Damian from Ra's but Talia knows Bruce, knows he would use it as a half-excuse just to keep her away... but Talia wants to be in her child's life. Wants to raise him. Wants to be his mother, despite knowing next to nothing on how to be an actual normal mother, she wanted to try. She needed to try.

Running away was also out of the question, especially since Damian had been declared her father 'heir'. He would hunt them down and there was no where in this world she could hide that her father could not find them...

And-

Talia barely gives any warning when she flings the knife behind her. She waited for only a second, either to hear the ting of metal being blocked or the sound of it burying itself onto the wooden door she knew was in its pathway.

Instead she heard neither of those things and instead heard the ticking of a grandfather clock and a deep chuckle.

"As expected from the daughter of the Demon. Sharp and deadly with no hesitation in sight."

"Who are you." It was not a question but a demand. She slowly turned her head and was meet with an odd sight that even the daughter of the Demon has never seen before.

"At most.. an ally to have. At worst, merely a passing stranger with an offer."

The ticking never stopped.

Everything else outside the room though did.

-x-x-

Danny stared, his currently green eyes burning even more brightly than they normally do. Many emotions passed through them, anger, frustration, pain, sadness, regret, heartbreak, and hopelessness to name a few.

He stared at the tiny sleeping face within the healing pod in front of him and closed his eyes as memories of spending time with the one sleeping filled his mind.

"My King." A voice began, Danny's sharp pointed ears twitch for a moment and he turned his head slightly but it was all the speaker needed to know that they had his attention even if he didn't give them his full attention.

"I bring the updated reports from Chief Frostbite you requested." The young yeti ghost said, this had Danny finally turning around and looking upwards and towards the young yeti, who was smaller than Frostbite but none the less bigger than Danny. Danny held his hand out and took the stack of papers in their hands.

Once the papers were in his hands he gave a curt wave of his fingers as if to say 'go on' without actually saying the words and turned his attention to the words on the papers. The young yeti, Icewinds took the signal and began.

"Princess Danielle's core has remained the same since the last check up. No major sign of deteriorating or destabilizing... However that also means there have been no signs of improvement or healing as well..." Icewinds stopped for a moment, allowing their King to register the words being spoken "We will continue to monitor her as best as we can but... My King..."

Icewinds took a deep breath and delivered the news everyone already knew "Without a female donor to complete her Ecto-DNA, should the Princess suffers from another Fading even a minor one, I fear it might be too much for her core and with her current body form it will not be able to withstand the stress... I'm truly sorry My King."

The room fell silent, the only real sounds being the monitors in the room and sound of rustling papers in Danny's hands, who was staring blankly at the words written on them but not really taking them in.

After a moment, Icewinds shifting uncomfortably for a second, Danny spoke his voice raw but strong and firm "I understand. Please inform Frostbite I am... grateful for his, yours, and everyone's continued support and everything everyone's has done to help her... If you do not mind Icewinds, I would... Like to be alone for a while and think... For a moment."

"O-Of course My King." And with that Icewinds left the room, Danny barely taking not of the door closing and his enhanced hearing picking up the hushed soft words being spoken to the Knights that stood outside the room of Danny's request of being left alone for a while.

Once the talking outside the room faded, Danny tilted his body and head back on the chair he had been sitting in for the last few days and allowed the papers he had his hands to fall out and onto the floor. Danny took in a shaky breath and closed his burning eyes as he tried to keep his core emotions in control, knowing if he lost control the Realms would echo him and would panic or worry his people.

And he couldn't deal with that. Not now.

"Clockwork, whatever timeline you are trying to set in motion, I hope it pans out soon." Danny rasped out as he tried his best to keep himself from falling apart. Losing Danielle, losing the girl that was his clone, his mirror, but also was like a sister... daughter sometimes would break him, harshly and deeply.

He knew his advisor and resident Timekeeper had something in the works, the way the aging spirit had looked at him before he left was telling when the news of Danielle's suffering from another Fading attack and Frostbite having to perform a Core Transform nearly last second, which in turn turned her into a baby from how close she was to fully Fading, had been delivered to Danny and the others.

But despite knowing Clockwork had a plan, Danny knew that smile he had before he had left. It had been Clockwork's 'Have hope, but even I am unsure.' smile, a rare one the Timekeeper would wear when even he didn't know which way the pendulum of chance would swing first.

So he did the only thing he could do for now, and that was to remain in the room with Danielle, keep her stabilized as best as he could with his own ectoplasim flowing, and wait to see if whatever Clockwork had planned would work out.

Waiting, even with all he's done in his life from becoming a Halfa, to defending his home and haunt, from fighting off insane Fruitloops to dismantling government bigots until there was nothing left of them, all the way to fighting a tyrannicidal Ghost King to the point Danny had won the crown by Trail by Combat thus taking up the mantle of Ghost King of the Infinite Realms since his seventeenth birthday and bringing the Infinite Realms into a new age of healing the broken crumbling lands and ruling over all justly but firmly, waiting was all he could do for Danielle.

And the waiting. The stress. Was agonizing.

Because what they needed was...

Was a miracle if Danny was to be honest. They needed a female, a donor in all sense of the words, to complete Danielle's incomplete Ecto-DNA, because of course that damned Fruitloop tried skipping steps in creating a clone of Danny and it was no wonder he had failed so many times with only Danielle the most stable of them all and given the fact she still wasn't was damning, but they couldn't just have any female donate their DNA to her.

No the DNA needed the donor to at least be limenal, thus turning the DNA into Ecto-DNA because Danielle was created to be a halfa... The only problem was that the person in question needed to be Jazz level of limenal Ecto-DNA as well.

Meaning that despite both Sam and Val offering their Ecto-DNA from the years of being exposed to the Realms and Ectoplasim theirs wasn't enough to work with Danielle's. Jazz's Ecto-DNA was off the table seeing as she was his sister and mixing it with Danielle's would just lead to problems.

No they needed someone who was born near or in ectoplasm, breathed it, ate or at least filtered it, grew with it for years like Jazz and Danny did, basically the person in question just needed one odd day of dying and returning to life at the same time to becoming a halfa levels of limenal. Only those high levels could complete and combined with Danielle's.

Which given the fact only Jazz had those levels, finding someone near those levels was like looking for needle in space, because forget the haystack.

"....You've returned." Was the only words Danny said when his ears caught the sound of a ticking clock suddenly in the room, his anxiety raising as both dread and a tiny slimmer of hope both slowly climb up in his emotions, knowing whatever answer Clockwork would give him would outweigh the other.

"On time, as always My King." His cryptic Timekeeper responded "I bring... a chance."

Those words were enough to snap Danny out of his chair, he quickly looked towards where Clockwork's voice had been coming from and floated. His eyes burning with determination for a moment before he caught sight of movement behind Clockwork.

Behind the ever changing being stood a breathtaking woman. Tall and proud from the way she held herself, she looked a few years older than him but Danny could sense she was far older her soul not really matching her body. She was lovely to look at no doubt but deadly, very deadly and that was something else Danny could sense after all he was the Ghost King.

And she wasn't alone for in her arms was a baby, roughly the same age that Danielle had been de-aged to as well.

Danny blinked at them when he noticed something.

She...

She was limenal.

Very limenal. Even more limenal than Jazz.

In fact both of them were.

"I would like you to meet Lady Talia al Ghul and her son Damian, My King." Clockwork said as he gave a tiny bow towards the woman who stepped forward, a frown on her face she took in Danny's features and her eyes darting towards Danielle's healing pod for a moment, Danny could see she was tensed and a little weary from no doubt everything so far.

".... Welcome Lady Talia to the Infinite Realms. I am King Phantom." Danny greeted, his many years of training with other royalties coming forward as second nature now, he wasn't some normal teen from the middle of the Mid-West after all. "Has Clockwork told you the reasoning as to why you have been... chosen?"

He honestly would put it past Clockwork to be cryptic about the reasoning, but he hoped he hadn't because Danny really didn't want to explain the importance of it all and why they needed to hurry. And judging by the roll of his eyes Clockwork knew what Danny had been meaning as well.

"Yes King Phantom" Talia spoke, her voice rich and silky that sent a tiny shiver up Danny's spine from the sound "You need my DNA to help heal your clone. Should it be successful however it will change her from being merely a clone to instead into becoming yours and mine daughter."

"Correct." Was Danny's response, short and to the point. He needed her answer now if they wanted to save even a fragment of Danielle's core.

The room fell silent again, each them of taking a moment to think.

But eventually Talia spoke. Her voice steady and strong.

"I will offer my aid to you and yours... But only if you swear to both me and my son that we will be given sanctuary from my father and any who dares harm us for the blood that runs in our veins."

Danny only had one answer to that as his eyes caught hers.

Because despite being the Ghost King Phantom nowadays. He had once been Danny Phantom whose core started as a protector spirit and could sense the honestly of needing safety in her words.

"Yes."

-x-x-

Clockwork watched and smiled at the two adults in the room as they continued to stare at each other.

He knew he had been cutting it close, waiting for Talia to be at the ends of ropes and needing a chance to finally leave her deadly and abusive father without the toxic strings attached her ex would tie around her under the guise of safety for their son.

Turning his attention away from the two as they began to speak terms, Clockwork cast his gaze towards an window in the room and stared out of it, smile still on his face as glimpses of the rare future he saw slowly rose up more frequently.

Danny and Talia slowly and surely working together to raise not just Danielle, or rather Ellie as they renamed her since she was no longer a clone of Danny, but also Damian together. Passing them off as twins to those outside the Realms or Amity Park.

Talia learning to release the toxic love she had towards Bruce Wayne, and understand if someone truly loved you for you, they would demand sudden change from the only way of life one knows. That since she was no longer the thumb of her father she could finally be free to be herself.

Danny learning that despite being crowned so early in his life, that the weight of the crown didn't need to be carried alone. Sure he had his friends and family but Danny needed someone, someone who understood the weight of the feeling of needing to wear it head held high. And who better to help teach that than the woman who had to carry the name Daughter of the Demon Head herself.

The two growing closer and closer. Until fondness changed and shifted into more. As they raised the two infants with laughter and joy and love.

Ellie getting a kiss from Talia on the forehead when she had a nightmare and seeked her mother out for comfort. Toddler Damian riding Cujo around the castle as he copied Fright Knight after watching him ride off, Danny floating right by him making sure he didn't fall off. Ellie learning how to fight not just from her mother but from her idol Pandora. Damian learning to identify the stars and their names from the man he saw, and later wished was, his father. Ellie and Damian building pillow forts in the library and reading all manners of stories to each other. Danny and Talia holding their tiny hands as they took them to their first day of school within Amity Park their joyful laughter bringing soft smiles on their parents faces.

Danny holding a crying Talia as she explained the things she had been taught and forced to learn by the orders of her father in the dead of night. Doing his best to calm her down as he had been taught by Jazz ages ago.

Talia standing tall and firm when the Observants tried to undermined a order, no a law Danny had set in motion that had upset the eyeballs badly. How she gathered evidence of their attempts to go against it and how they were nothing but traitors towards their King and couldn't weasel themselves out of it this time.

Clockwork smiled warmly when he caught sight of one more glimpse of this future timeline.

Talia dressed beautifully, a crown made of stars and black jewels on her head. Her son dancing with her as firm as he could but his little tongue peeking out of his mouth as he concentrated on his steps and was dressed like a tiny prince complete with a tiny crown of stars on his head as well, Talia's face held a tiny smile of love watching him try his hardest to dance correctly with her. Joyful squeals of laughter rang out as King Phantom twirled with Ellie, who was dressed like a true princess, in his arms.

Around them in the ballroom the citizens of Realms laughed, joyfully danced, sang, ate, or merely watched. For the first time in many, many years the Realms felt... Complete. Whole. Happy.

A true wonderful afterlife that all could enjoy.

Yes.

He knew waiting the last second was a long shot, for a chance that almost wasn't, but the future he saw was well worth it.

A good future. A balanced one. A happy afterlife one.

Now, all he had to do was wait for the seeds of this future to bloom.

[radiance1]

Ice sculptor Danny.

One Jack Fenton has, for some reason, decided to stop hunting ghosts. Even if that was his wife's passion, he just couldn't do it anymore, and Maddie?

Well, she was okay with it.

Until his newfound passiveness for ghosts got in the way of her hunting that Phantom menace, but that was fine, really, it was.

Then, when one Danny Fenton revealed himself to be Phantom and Jack took his side, she suddenly realized.

Phantom did something to her husband, something changed his view mentally about how ghosts were evil, despicable and non-sentient beings.

He mind-controlled her husband.

Except, Jack wasn't mind controlled, but she couldn't believe it, which lead to him unfortunately having to quickly back his stuff and leave with Danny over to Jazz's place for a while. She was surprised to see him there, but after hearing what happened she was more than welcome to let them stay.

Despite it all, Jack couldn't find it in himself to divorce his wife, or bring up any significant feels of hatred towards her, and that? Well, it made him miserable.

He tried to put up a strong front for his kids, that everything is and will continue to be a okay, but they could tell that he wasn't okay, not at all. After all, as his children, they had a front row seat to the sheer amount of love displayed between them that honestly? Both Danny and Jazz thought would never be torn apart until the day they, well, die.

And even then, after finding out ghosts existed, they expected it to continue even beyond life.

Safe to say, Jack was taking this newfound situation hard.

Danny tried to cheer him up, obviously, stuff like father-son bonding and getting him little gifts, he made via his ice powers, which then lead to him finding out he has quite the gift for ice sculpting and, after being encouraged by his father and sister to pursue his own happiness, he started to work on larger and larger projects.

A few years later, he managed to make an exact replica of both his father and sister as a parting gift.

Shame then, that he outlived them.

The GIW and his mother came knocking on the door, and a fight broke out between them. Jazz and Danny were fighting the GIW, while Jack holding off Maddie, hell, trying to get through to her and explain that it really was their son and not a ghost imprint.

Just as they finished dealing with the GIW, their home exploded from the ground up. It was, far too fast, far too unexpected, for them to react so soon.

But after a few seconds Danny was running into the rubble while Jazz was calling for help.

And the bottom of the rubble, he found that experimental technology his father was working on, the cause of the explosion, and shifting through the rubble led him to see his father.

His father died protecting his mother with his body.

Maddie was alive, if just barely.

She never fully recovered from it, both from losing her husband right before her very eyes and her physical injuries. Whenever Danny visited she would curse him, claiming that it was his fault why everything happened this way, his fault for replacing her baby boy and the reason why her husband died.

Danny, obviously, didn't take it well.

So he put his everything into mastering ice sculpting, never taking a break for more than a few minutes before going back to work. He even, in his grief, ignored his sister far more than he meant too.

He never realized how alone he felt when his mother died from suicide, even more so, when his sister died as well from old age.

He knew he probably still had his friends, but after focusing on only ice sculpting for so long, he didn't even know if they were considered friends.

He didn't want to find out, didn't have the courage to find out.

So he sculpted.

When he finally worked up the courage, they had already passed.

There was nothing for him here, not anymore, so he left.

He ended up in a dimension of heroes and villains, where some of the population had powers known as meta abilities and where none humans could roam around.

He had nothing here, a new, fresh start.

He had nothing.

So he sculpted.

He managed to make a name for himself, thought not anything too grand since he didn't want fame, but he was known for being a meta who used his ice powers in sculpting that never melts.

A year since he came to this dimension, he recreated his family. His mother and father, embracing each other and looking at each with faces of love that they couldn't give and receive when they were alive, and his sister, who he ignored and ignored until she ultimately died without making any new memories with her brother and going through her own fair share of grief.

He rested them in an isolated area, a forest, and prayed that they would find piece in their next lives.

He wouldn't have known that these sculptures would be found by some heroes, who stared at Jack's iced face and notice the features of Superman, nor that etching a rest in piece underneath would lead to anything significant.

But it did.

[stars-obsession-pit]

So a person requested (in messages) me to write a drabble thing based on this prompt. I’m not really into de-aged characters, but I thought of a way to focus it more on Jason’s reaction rather than the childcare part and felt cool with writing that.

So, uh, hope you like this I guess, @phantomrosereader…

Alright. Alright. Alright alright alrigh—

Nope. They’re still there. Fuck. Jason is not at all prepared to be a father. Nor does he want to show back up at the manor right now carrying two children and be forced to explain all this.

Wait, how did the kids even get there? Who was the mother? Why did they never contact him before?

…Did they contact him before? Can he really be certain he’s not missing any more memories?

He forcefully shook his head. No. No focusing on that right now. He’s fine. No spiraling allowed. He has to deal with this first.

Seriously, fuck. How is he a dad?

He… he should look into the mother. At least then he’d have more to go off of when he talks to Alfred. The note did give a name, but it wasn’t nearly enough to go off of on its own. Danny is hardly an uncommon name. Although, it does seem like a guy’s name—maybe Danny is trans? That would narrow the search down, but would that be enough? Even if he could get it down to just a handful of options, he had no way to determine which Danny was his. The kids seemed to have mostly inherited his own appearance…

Wait, that’s it! Genetic tests!

Despite his strained relationship with the other Bats, he still has access to their resources. A test wouldn’t take too long to give results. And also, it might reveal some other info like allergies he’d need to know.

***

Jason frowned at his laptop as his eyes flitted across the details of the error message. Apparently, some parts of the kids’ genes had been completely unreadable to the scanner and thus it couldn’t form a full profile.

Sighing, he clicked the popup closed. He could at least look at what results had come through. Maybe they’d be enough.

That hope dwindled as he scanned the full data, the corruption looking more dire than he expected. Even if the legible parts did succeed at painting a picture of the kids being related, the swaths of gibberish made meaningfully searching for the mother likely hopeless. However, there did seem to be a pattern to the broke areas. Something tickled at the back of his mind. He felt like he’d seen this before. Could that mean the mother was a meta or alien? Those were on a separate database, so that might resolve the issue. But that would require him to go to the manor, and he was still very hesitant to do that.

So instead, he pulled up his own test results to compare. Maybe they’d let him figure something ou—

He froze.

That’s why he recognized the corruption. Ever since his revival, his own genetic results exhibited almost the exact same pattern of issues.

Oh Hell, did the kids inherit the side effects of the Pit from him?

He looked over at the kids, sleeping peacefully in their seats, and prayed that they hadn’t. He didn’t think he’d be able to forgive himself if they had to suffer through the Pit Rage their whole lives just because of him.

He… he had to go to the manor. There was no pushing this off any longer. This situation was far too big for him to deal with on his own. He couldn’t risk leaving his kids to suffer alone.

Hopefully Alfred with his parenting skills and Damian with his knowledge of the Lazarus Pits (and similar experience of being descended from a user of them) would be able to help. Or if that failed, maybe he could guilt trip Bruce into getting the Justice League Dark to help.

[avaritia-apotheosis]

They Might Be Giants

Alfred Pennyworth receives a phone call and is given custody over his recently orphaned nephew Danny Fenton.

A DPxDC Crossover // Read on [AO3] // Fic Masterlist

◆◆◆

one. 

Alfred received the phone call on an idyllic Sunday afternoon. Wayne Manor was a sleepy old thing in this weather, the house quiet and still as Alfred polished the silver to a shine. Mr. and Mrs. Wayne were out, taking little Master Bruce with them to see a new exhibit on the Mesozoic period.

He picked up the ringing kitchen landline and cradled the receiver in the juncture of his shoulder and ear, a practiced speech of “ Wayne Manor, may I know who is speaking? Apologies, the masters are unavailable at this moment, but may I pass on a message?” already at the tip of his tongue. 

Before he could open his mouth, the caller spoke. “Is this Mr. Alfred Beagle?”

Beagle was his mother’s maiden name, and the name Alfred took when he worked in Britain. The Pennyworth name, after all, was too closely associated with the Waynes. No one had called him that for years, now. He adjusted his grip on the receiver before resuming his polishing. “This is he. May I know who is calling?”

The caller—a tired sounding woman with a midwestern lilt—introduced herself as Mrs. Eller, the attorney to Jack and Madeline Fenton. “I am sorry that you had to learn about it like this, Mr. Pennyworth, but your cousin, Maddie Fenton, her husband, and their daughter Jasmine recently passed away in an accident this Wednesday. You have my deepest condolences.”

They were second cousins. That was the first thought that came to Alfred’s mind, the cloth in his hand frozen at the dip of the spoon he was shining. Their fathers were cousins who lived on opposite sides of the pond. Despite this, Alfred and Maddie remained in close contact with each other throughout their childhood. They were penpals, sending letters and photos and holiday postcards (Maddie more so than Alfred).

He was even invited to their wedding.

And now—

“Wait a minute…” Alfred’s mind stalled. He set down the silver and the cloth. “You said that the daughter died as well. They had a younger son. What happened to him?”

“He is alive and…as well as he could be in this situation. Danny is actually the reason why I needed to contact you.” Mrs. Eller cleared her throat. “In the Fentons’ will, you were named as their childrens’ legal guardian in case…the worst ever came to pass.”

“I…me? What about Alicia? Maddie’s sister?”

“It’s the late Doctors Fentons’ will, sir. And Danny has agreed to it as well.”

“I see.” Alfred’s breath came out in a shuddering gasp. “Well, if my dear late cousin willed it, then I am willing to comply. Please, let me make some arrangements first, and then I will get back to you with the details.” 

He hung up the phone—

—buried his face in his hands—

—and breathed. 

Alfred could not afford to cry right now.

◆◆◆

two. 

Thomas and Martha were more than happy to accommodate Danny within the manor when Alfred told them about his current situation. It was expected—the Waynes always had a penchant for generosity—but Alfred couldn’t help the sigh of relief all the same. 

(Master Bruce, precocious eight-year-old that he was, wrinkled his brows at the news. While fine with sharing his own things, the attention of his favorite people on the other hand, he hoards like a greedy dragon.)

A week after that terrible phone call, Alfred pulled the black Bentley up to the correct airport terminal and waited for his new charge’s arrival. 

Alfred had seen grief in many faces. Had experienced it himself. Despite this, nothing would ever prepare him for the utter desolation that seeped through Danny’s body. The boy was wan faced— skin almost gray. His cheeks were sunken and hollow, eyes bruised by shadows and stained red by tears. His back was hunched, less from the weight of his backpack and more so from the grief that hung on his shoulders. 

“Mr. Pennyworth?”  Danny’s voice was a dull timbre, nearly cracking at the edges. Alfred shook his hand (freezing cold, but not clammy). “I remember you. Mom always made sure to send you a Christmas card.”

The Fenton family Christmas card was always something Alfred appreciated. He had no family of his own that he was particularly close to, his immediate relatives all dead or estranged in some way. That Alfred received a card without fail every Christmas was always a novel feeling. It was…nice, to know that he still had ties somewhere. Danny, Alfred remembered, never really smiled in those cards. Oh he’d stretch his lips wide and show his teeth, but it was obvious from the way the smile never reached his eyes, and the tightness around his jaw that Danny wasn’t a Christmas person. 

And now, with only a few weeks left till Christmas, he might never be one. 

The two slid into the Bentley and drove off in relative silence. Danny had his head pressed against the window, eyes glazed as he watched the high-rise Gotham streets soon fade into open, rolling hills, and then the palatial monument that was Wayne Manor. 

At the sight of the manor, Danny blinked. “You a millionaire or something?” (Shoulders tensed. Hands curled into fist. His jaw clenched into a hard line, and there was a kind of acidity in his tone at the question. Problems with wealth? No. People with wealth.)

“No.” Alfred kept his tone bland. “But I do work for them. I am the Head Butler for the Wayne family, and have lived here with them while under their employ. They’ve graciously extended that hospitality to you.”

“Do I have to work for them or something?”

Most definitely a problem of someone with wealth.

Alfred shook his head. “While I would appreciate some help here and there, you have no obligation to do so. This is where you’ll live, with me. You can live here for as long as you’d like, and when you feel ready, we can also talk about entering you into school again.”

Danny drums his fingers against his forearm, eyes trained on the stone statues that guarded the door.

Thomas and Martha welcomed the boy with open arms. Danny shook their hands and thanked them with a raspy voice, polite smile not reaching his eyes. 

Master Bruce, shy and wary of the newest addition to the Wayne household, hid in the shadows of his mother’s ash mauve skirts. His blue eyes peeked upwards at Danny inquisitively.

(Later, after Alfred helped Danny settle into the room across from his own, Master Bruce would pull Alfred aside and ask why Danny looked so sad. 

Alfred knelt to Bruce’s eye level and pressed a warm hand on his shoulder. “He is sad because his family is gone.”

Master Bruce tilted his head. “Gone where? When will they be back?” For all that he was an intelligent lad, Bruce was barely more than a child. Death was a foreign concept. The death of a loved one was even moreso.

“Somewhere far, far away.” Alfred doesn’t want to be the one that teaches Bruce about death.)

◆◆◆

three. 

Wayne Manor was rumored to be haunted. It was a silly rumor of course; the Manor was an old house, and old houses have a tendency to make noises. But with Danny, one might almost be tricked into thinking it was true. 

Danny was a wraith. He haunted the wide and empty hallways with preternaturally silent footsteps, the hairs on Alfred’s nape standing on ends whenever he’d suddenly catch a glimpse of the boy at the corner of his eye. Sometimes Alfred would see him linger in shadowed nooks or in the solitude of his bedroom, staring vacantly at nothing. 

“He is still grieving,” Thomas would say. “Be patient with him.”

“He needs space,” Martha advised. “Just be there for him, Alfie. Let him know you’re someone he can trust, someone he can count on for support.”

Alfred looked down at his white-gloved hands. He knew that. He knew Danny needed support, needed space, needed time . But what about after? When the pang of grief had dulled with time, and Danny decided to step into the world instead of letting it pass by him? He was a child, and all children need parents.

Alfred remembers his time as an intelligence officer, slumming with petty criminals and socializing with wealthy targets. Living double, triple, quadruple lives, and exploiting every weakness that he could dig up in order to tear people down. 

Nurturing hands he had not.

(Fatherhood would never suit someone like him.)

“I don’t know if I can,” he confessed.

“But you must either way,” said Martha. “You are all Danny has left in the world.”

“The best is all you can really do,” added Thomas. “Look on the bright side: you’re already doing so well with Bruce.”

Sighing through his nose, Alfred rubbed the ache away from his temples. Recalled, then, the distant past with his own father who cared more for another family than his own. Jarvis Pennyworth was an austere man who embodied the ‘stiff upper lip’ idiom so commonly applied to the British people. Even in Alfred’s memory, Jarvis barely smiled. 

Jarvis was not a warm father. And yet…

Alfred still remembered the warmth that bloomed in his chest whenever he was young and saw a plate of freshly peeled fruit sitting on his desk.

Jarvis was not a particularly warm father, and more often than not was clumsy and awkward with his affection. But he loved his family still. Even far away, Alfred knew that his father would always be there for him.

And maybe, that’s what Danny needed from him too. 

◆◆◆

four. 

Alfred's previous occupation necessitated light sleeping habits, and for all Danny's too-quiet footsteps, he too was at the mercy of the Manor's age. Danny's door creaked open in the dead of night, rousing Alfred from his rest. From there, it only took Alfred fifteen seconds to ascertain that Danny had already turned around the hallway.

Alfred rose from his bed and tied his dressing robe around his waist. His nephew had a habit of wandering outside his room late at night. At first, from Alfred's observations, it was only to aimlessly walk throughout the Manor. After the first week, Danny had begun to gravitate to one place in particular.

The library.

Though it was less for the comfort of books or the rather comfortable wingback armchairs that surrounded the fireplace, and more for the small balcony that overlooked the topiary garden.

The first time Alfred had followed Danny there, he nearly had a heart attack when he saw Danny sit at the edge of the balustrade, feet dangling twenty feet above the ground. He nearly gave away his hiding spot in the shadow of some shelves. Fortunate for him that Danny wasn't the most observant person. He was like his mother in that way; for all that Maddie was an intelligent and frightfully observant little girl, she could be totally blind to some of the most obvious signs. (Alfred wondered if she ever grew past that.)

Like the first time, Danny sat at the edge of the balustrade. His fingers drummed a rhythmic pattern against the stone, head tilted up as he watched the starry sky above. Unlike the first time, Alfred made a stop at the kitchen first, coming out with two steaming mugs of hot chocolate. Made just the way his own father used to. 

Alfred deliberately stepped on a few creaky floorboards on his way over to alert Danny of his presence. He set down his own mug atop the railing before offering the other to his nephew. "It's cold out."

Wordlessly, Danny wrapped his hands around the mug and tucked it close to his chest. His blue eyes— startlingly bright in the darkness—scrunched in confusion as he tried to figure out Alfred's angle.

"It's not poisoned," Alfred joked dryly. He took a sip of his own mug as if to prove it. "That's too cliche."

"Too suspicious, too. It'd be easier to just push me off the balcony. Makes it look like an accident." Danny turned pink, sheepish. "Oh no that was kinda morbid. I'm sorry, I don't — I don't know why I said that."

He chuckled. "I'm the last person to reprimand you for morbid jokes, boy. And besides, you're right." Alfred smiled from beneath his cup when he saw Danny take a sip of the hot chocolate. "What brings you out here, anyway?"

There was a line of chocolate above Danny's lip. He wiped it away with the back of his wrist. "Stargazing, I guess. It's— there's less light pollution here and I wanted to just…look, I guess."

"Do you like astronomy?"

Danny nodded, gazing upwards at the cluster of stars above. "I wanted to be an astronaut when I was little."

"And now?"

"I still do. A lot. But I don't think that's possible for me anymore."

Alfred adjusted his grip on his mug. “Why not?”

Danny shrugged. “I don’t…know, really.” His voice is infinitesimally small that it is almost carried away by the evening wind. He hunched forward, elbows resting on his knees and mug settled on the bannister. Looked as if he was teetering on the edge and Alfred’s hand itched to pull on his arm as if to anchor him. “It feels as though I’m someone else. Like the Danny that wanted to become an astronaut lives in an entirely separate reality, and it feels weird to still want that dream because he and I are so—” 

His breath catches in his throat. Eyes wide as a single tear slid down his cheek.

Then, all at once, his energy leaves him. ��I’m sorry,” he said again. “I don’t know what I’m saying.”

Alfred shook his head. “No. Don’t apologize. You have nothing to apologize for.” He met Danny’s gaze. Hoped that the boy would see the sincerity in his own eyes. “You are right. You are changed, Danny. I don’t know in what way, but you have changed and it is alright that you feel like a different person. Grief changes you, but it doesn’t mean you have to distance yourself from who you once were.”

Danny gripped the bannister tight. Fingers dug harshly into the stone. “I heard a lot that ‘time heals all wounds.’ ” He laughed humorlessly. “Is that actually true?”

“No,” Alfred said. “It doesn’t. The wound will never heal, but time will numb it enough that it no longer feels as painful.”

Danny looked at Alfred for a long moment, searching for something. The cold wind tousled his hair. Despite the frigid temperatures, Danny had not shivered even once.

Then, he spoke. “I still don’t think I can become an astronaut.”

Alfred’s gaze softened. “That’s alright. You’re still young, and you have plenty of time to decide what you want to do with it.”

◆◆◆

five. 

Surprisingly—or perhaps, unsurprisingly—it was Master Bruce that pulled Danny out of the shadows of grief. Not completely, but…enough so that Danny began to finish everything on his plate and was unafraid to sleep some nights without waking up in nightmares.

Thomas and Martha were pleased, of course. For all Bruce’s brightness and endearing personality, he was so shy and struggled to make friends his own age. Danny at fourteen was still years older, but progress was progress. The Wayne couple would encourage the two’s friendship with a warm smile and an overindulgence in their antics. As long as Danny and Bruce didn’t leave the estate without their permission or stay out too late, the boys were free to wander as they liked.

In Alfred’s eyes, the connection between the two was obvious. Like called to like. Loneliness called to loneliness.

Once, Alfred caught the boys laying down in the soft grassy fields behind the manor. Their heads are pillowed by their arms, eyes craned towards the bright array of stars above, and willfully ignorant of the curfew they were breaking.

Danny lifted his arm to point at the sky. “See those three stars in a line?” he said to Bruce. “Those three stars make up Orion’s belt, and are the brightest stars in his constellation. See? If you follow it, you can sorta make the shape of a person.”

“I see it!” Master Bruce exclaimed. He traced a vague shape in the air. “There’s his chest. That, his arm. And look! I can even see his bow!”

“You know, a lot of people actually think that’s a shield.”

“But that looks nothing like a shield!” 

Alfred couldn’t see for certain, but he felt that Danny would’ve shrugged at that statement. “Shield, bow, pelt of fur, doesn’t really matter in the end. The important thing was that you could see it. The ancient Mediterraneans used Orion as, like, an old calendar to know when it was a good time to thresh—that is, to separate the seeds from like a barley plant—their crops.” He moved his hand again. “The other cool thing about Orion is that it’s a good way to find other stars. See, if you follow the line of his belt away from his bow, you’ll find Sirius, which is the brightest star in the canis major constellation.”

“Is that his dog?”

“Yeah, that’s his dog. Sirius is also the brightest star in our night sky— well, after the sun at least. Anyway, if you follow the line of Orion’s belt towards the bow and even past it, you can see a cluster of stars way up there. There should be seven, but it might be hard to see all of them.”

“I think I see it? Is it that one?”

“Uh, a bit further— yep! That one. That’s the Pleiades, an open star cluster and probably one of the most well known stars in history. There’s actually way more than seven stars up there, but as far as seeing with the naked eye goes, we can only see seven. Like Orion, they were used to mark when it was a good time to harvest, but more than that, they were used by Greek sailors to know when it was a good time to sail. If the Pleiades were setting, or they were gone from the sky, then the seas would be too dangerous and it was better to go home.”

“What about that star over there?”

Alfred sees Danny shift, his head tilting towards the small lump that made up Master Bruce. “Which one?”

“Between the Pleiades and Orion there’s this really bright orange star.”

“Alpha Taurus. The brightest star in the Taurus constellation.” A beat. “Aldebaran, I think is its name. They call it ‘The Follower’ because it always follows after the Pleiades. Fun fact, it’s like over forty-times larger than the sun.”

“Really?” Alfred could hear the incredulity in Master Bruce’s voice. “It doesn’t look like it.”

“Well, all of those stars are lightyears away. They’re so far away that, technically, we’re not really seeing the stars. The light they give takes a long time to actually reach here on earth for us to see, so what we’re looking at is the light of a star from hundreds or thousands of years ago.”

Danny went quiet for a moment. “Really…for all we know, some of the stars we’re looking at have been dead for a while. Alive to us, but dead in reality. A weird kind of limbo.”

“Does it matter though?” Master Bruce said.

“What?”

He turned over, laying on his belly and holding himself up on his forearms. “Dead or alive? Does it matter?” 

“I don’t…”

“I don’t think it does.” Master Bruce flopped back down to the grass. “If it’s alive, it’s alive. If it isn’t, then… it’s still alive in a way? My dad said that you’re never truly dead as long as someone remembers you, and as long as we see the star then it’ll always stay alive.”

Danny was silent for a moment.

Then he laughed and ruffled Bruce’s hair. “You know, Bruce, you’re way too smart for your age.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“No. Never. You kinda remind me of my sister a bit.” 

Alfred’s breath hitched. It was the first time he had ever heard Danny willingly bring up his family since they first met. 

“She was a huge know-it-all,” Danny continued. “Annoyed me a lot because everyone always noticed that I wasn’t smart like her, but…she had a big heart, like you.”

Danny hauled himself to his feet before offering an arm to Master Bruce. “Come on, we better head back before anyone notices that we snuck out past your bedtime.”

Master Bruce whined. “Can’t we stay a bit longer?”

“We can do this again tomorrow night.”

“Promise?”

“Cross my heart and hope to die and all that.”

The two walked arm in arm back through the patio entrance, Danny’s footsteps still that same eerie silence, and little Bruce’s slowly matching his gait to copy Danny’s movements. Neither were aware of Alfred, who clung to the shadows, watching his two boys go.

(Alfred said nothing of the boys’ late-night astronomy lessons. He continued to say nothing whenever he caught the two of them breaking curfew. Instead, he’d settle on a chair in a hidden nook that comfortably kept the two in sight, and watched the stars.)

◆◆◆

six. 

Months passed, and slowly, Danny learned to move on. He ate more now. Smiled more. Laughed more. Lived more. 

Danny was a delight to have in the Manor. He was an extra voice that bounced around the vast hallways, another plate set down for family meals, and a point of normalcy in the glittering world of the Waynes. He was Alfred’s apprentice in the kitchen, their handy mechanic when technology went awry, and Bruce’s ever watchful guardian. 

Martha and Thomas loved him. Bruce adored him. 

And Alfred?

Alfred could not help the little voice at the back of his head that wanted to call the boy his own. Danny was his nephew, his family along with the Waynes. 

Despite all the tragedy that brought Danny to Gotham, Alfred could not help but be happy that Danny was here with them.

But Gotham was a cruel mistress.

And Happiness was as fragile as a string of pearls.

Alfred drove Bruce away from that godforsaken alley as soon as he could. The boy (eight years old, he was eight years old and stained in his own parents’ blood) shivered in the passenger seat, an officer’s jacket slung over his small frame. He was silent. Unmoving. Hollow eyes trained at the darkening sky ahead.

They reached the Manor to find Danny furiously pacing on the front steps, teeth worrying the end of his thumb. He froze as soon as Alfred stepped out of the black Bentley.

He jumped down the front steps, shoes skidding against the gravel. “Alfred?”

What happened?

Is everything alright?

Alfred could read every bit of Danny’s body language as if the boy was an open book. The tense line of his shoulders; the rigidness of his spine; the sudden depth of his respirations as if Danny was forcing himself to calm down but couldn’t quite get there in time. There was a wild sort of desperation in his eyes— but Danny wasn’t looking at Alfred. Wasn’t here. Not completely at least.

Some part of Danny was back in Amity again. A young boy like Master Bruce watching his whole world fall apart with a bang. 

Alfred kept a stiff upper lip as he opened the passenger door and helped Master Bruce onto unsteady legs. He had to be strong now, for both his boys. 

“Alfred,” Danny started again. “What— what happened? Where’s—” At the sight of Master Bruce, Danny stumbled to his knees. 

“Bruce? Are you—” He cradled Bruce’s blood-stained cheek, fingers shaking. 

Bruce spoke. The first words he’d said since Alfred came to get him. “What do I do, Danny?” His voice is shaking and raw and so small . The wind could almost carry it away. “They’re gone, Danny. My parents are gone, too.”

Alfred could see the instant Danny broke. 

(Alfred could feel the second he broke, too.)

He pulled both his boys into his arms and held them tight. They were all each other had in this world, and Alfred begged to a god he hadn’t believed in for years that the world not separate them even more.

◆◆◆

seven. 

It’s been a week. 

Alfred found both boys curled up in the grassy fields behind Wayne Manor, staring at the dark expanse of night.

“I never want anyone else to go through what we did,” Bruce said. 

A promise. 

Danny turned to look at Bruce, a hand held out. Aldebaran shone bright and red above him. “Never again.” 

A pact. 

◆◆◆

eight. 

When Bruce is midway through his first year of university and Danny is nearly finished with his bachelor’s degree in aerospace engineering, the two of them dropped out of college, packed a bag each, and disappeared into the night.

 They gave no word. They left no note.

Months later, they were declared dead. Another tragedy for the people of Gotham, who mourned their bright prince. 

All of Bruce Wayne’s finances and belongings were left to Alfred, who continued to tend to them, as if any day Bruce Wayne and his smiling shadow would return. 

Time passed.

The world turned.

Bruce Wayne and Danny Fenton remained dead. 

Until one night, when the Pleiades had begun their descent from the sky, Alfred woke to a phone call. He held the phone to his ear, spoke into the receiver in hushed tones, and hung up a few minutes later. 

He readies his uniform. Made sure that it was free of lint, and the fabric was ironed out of any wrinkles. He dressed, made himself presentable, and drove the black Bentley all the way to a lonely airfield on the outskirts of Gotham.

He waits. 

He does not wait long. (He’s waited long enough.)

A small plane descends. Landed on the runway. Stopped. 

An eternity, and the doors opened. 

Out steps two young men, tall and lean, with whipcord muscles and scars that held stories that Alfred might never know.  Their eyes are tired but bright. Hungry for vengeance, for justice, for Gotham .

Alfred smiled at his boys.

“Welcome home.”

[wardenparker]

If You Were Mine, pt 2

Javier Peña x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 12.5k   Warnings: Food/alcohol, references to smoking. The love is requited they’re just idiots, there’s only one bed, dake dating, wedding date, Javier Peña dances like he fucks and I will not be taking criticism, Bad Timing Tía, dealing with the ex, fingering, hand job, unprotected sex, vaginal sex.  Summary: The day of Danny’s wedding goes much, much different than either you or Javi expects it to -- and so do your meetings in Washington. Notes: Find part 1 HERE! Also this gif has me hypnotized so if you need me I’ll be right here staring at my laptop screen for the rest of time...

Danny's wedding is two days later, and that Sunday morning when you get up and get dressed for church, it's getting dressed for the wedding as well. Barely able to look Javi in the eye since hearing his confession on Friday night, you're quiet in the truck on the way to downtown Laredo. Javi looks far more handsome than a man in a plaid shirt and jeans ever should, and your black dress might be a tad too dressy but you pair it with flat shoes and don't overdo anything else so you won't end up looking too out of place. You've already made up your mind to be there for him today and to not give anyone any reason to question the two of you — you just want one more day of things being good between you before you have to head to Washington.

Sitting in the truck beside you is pure torture. Rubbing his hands on his jeans as he wonders why you have just…avoided him. He hates that things have changed, but he doesn’t know how to bridge the gap.

When the church comes into view Chucho shuts off the radio like the priest is going to come out and chastise him for listening to rock music, but you just sit back and tap your fingers on the strap of your purse. "Remind me," you murmur, leaning over to Javier as Chucho parks the truck. "Danny is your mother's younger sister's only boy, right?"

“Yeah.” Javi nearly startles, hearing the first words you’ve said to him in two days. “I was a teen when he was born.” He turns his head but you are looking down at your purse.

"Okay. Just wanted to make sure I had it right." Your hand moves from kneading your purse to gently squeezing his before Chucho looks over at you both and declares it time for wedding bells with a sly wink.

“Pop.” Javi groans, rolling his eyes at how unsubtle his father is being. Lord knows there will be plenty of jokes made around him today, but hinting that you could be married to him soon hurts.

"It's okay, cariño." Your hand on his squeezes again and you smile as you shrug your shoulders. "I don't mind a little teasing. It's a happy day." Without any further comment, you slide out the driver's side door and accept Chucho's hand to climb out carefully, leaving Javi bewildered in the truck.

The bittersweet sound of an endearment makes Javi sigh, climbing out to the truck slowly. “It’s okay.” He murmurs as his father walks ahead. “I’m just going to tell everyone.”

"No." Standing in front of him blocks his way, and you put your hand firmly on his arm. "You're not, Jav." This is what you spent all of yesterday deciding, and the very firm conclusion you came to might embarrass him, but it's a gesture. A glimpse, if he wants it. "You wanted to pretend. To see what it would be like if you were mine and I was yours? Then that's what today is going to be. I won't be inappropriate or anything, but...what's stopping us from just enjoying today?"

His jaw unhinges and immediately heat blasts over his face like he’s been tossed on an oven. Or he’s finally died and been sent to hell. “You— you heard me?” He rasps out, mortified that you had heard him pouring his heart out like a fucking idiot.

"We were in no condition to talk about any of this with how upset we both were that night." Maybe you should have told him yesterday, but it's too late for that now. Either way, you take both of his hands in yours and offer him a smile. "If you truly don't want to see what we could be, then you're at least going to get your wish to pretend."

He closes his eyes, wincing at the way it sounds when you voice it out loud. “Muñeca…” he murmurs helplessly.

"Javi, it's—" You could say that it's okay, but it's not really. It breaks your heart to think that he isn't willing to try, but you know he's been through unimaginable things. Things he will probably never speak about because they're too painful to ever remember that viscerally. "I won't kiss you or anything. I'm not going to force this on you. But at the very least it's Danny's day. We can smile and dance together and chat with your family and not cause a fuss on somebody else's big day." And if you hang on to this feeling for yourself on the cold or the lonely days, that's between you and the universe.

“I—okay.” He nods, opening his eyes and tries not to look like he’s attending a funeral. You know, you know everything he said and he hates that. Hates that you agree with him, knowing that he’s right and it’s the best damn thing for you.

"Okay?" Waiting until he nods again, you slip to his side and slide your hand into his to lace your fingers together. If nothing else, you can walk into the church together.

Your hand is warm, soft in his and he can’t help but squeeze it gently. “You look beautiful, muñeca.” He murmurs quietly. “But you always do.”

"When I bought this dress I got it because I thought you would like it," you admit, turning to smile at him as you walk up the steps together. "I'm glad I actually got to wear it for you."

“Couldn’t take my eyes off you.” Javi admits, remembering the op you had worn it on. “It’s why Ruiz got punched in the fucking mouth.”

You snort — barely covering your mouth in time to muffle the sound at the door of the church. "Seriously?" That split lip had been pretty nasty if you remember it correctly, now you're finally finding out how he got it, it's even better.

“Yeah.” Javi huffs, flexing his hand in yours. His fist had hurt like a motherfucker for three days, but it had been worth it.

"Javi the Big Bad Protector is kind of a turn on, not gonna lie." You murmur, quickly changing gears to smile politely to the ushers welcoming everyone into the wedding.

“He was being an asshole.” Javi grumbles. “Someone had to shut him up.”

"Mi guerrero." It's barely even a tease. Javi is absolutely a warrior, and his battles are more varied than anyone would know.

He rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t pull away. Guiding you down to the bench where you will sit through the ceremony. “Shut up.” He murmurs, letting go of your hand and touching your back very close to your ass as you start to slide into the bench.

"Yes, Daddy." You tease on a whisper that only he can hear, knowing that he'll hate it but that your tone and the smirk on your face will make him laugh.

He nearly chokes on his own damn spit when he hears you call him ‘daddy’. Grunting as he swears that if God strikes you down, you will deserve it. “Brat.”

"Ooo, don't tell me you like that?" There's a delighted gasp on your lips that turns into a giggle under your breath as he sits down next to you. "I had anticipated the complete opposite reaction."

“Shut up.” Javi glares at you. “I— I don’t like it.” He hisses quietly, even though that’s a bold faced lie. He’s never been called that before and he doesn’t know if he likes it or just like you saying it.

"Okay," you snicker quietly, glancing at him again and nearly erupting into more giggles. "Daddy."

“I swear to God.” He huffs, rolling his eyes.

"Nuh-uh." Wagging one finger at him, you cross your legs and point up at the altar at the front of the church. "Be nice. We're in His house."

“You’re the one calling people ‘daddy’.” He reminds you.

"Not people." The deep frown on his face is a mask for his amusement, and you shift closer to him in the pew with an unapologetic grin. "Just you."

“You’re annoying.” He hisses quietly. “And God is going to strike you down.” He’s joking, trying to hide how much he’s enjoying the banter.

"Maybe." You shrug, knowing you've done a whole lot of shit in your life that God should have already stricken you down for. "It would be a very interesting story."

He rolls his eyes but shifts slightly, throwing his arm on the pew behind you to wrap around your shoulder.

A few people who enter stop to say hello, telling Javier that they're glad to see him and they'll catch up with him at the reception, and a few others wave their greeting, but soon enough the assembled friends and family are on their feet again for the arrival of the bridal party and the wedding is under way.

Weddings are always a sensitive subject, especially with family. It never fails that people will recount how Javi just never showed up. Right now, he’s not concentrating on that. He’s tuned into the pressure of your thigh against his, the causal way you lean into his side with his arm still around you, your hands softly laying on his thigh like you are the couple you are pretending to be.

At one point your head tips, leaning slightly on his shoulder while you listen to the old priest pontificate on the duties of the couple to each other and to God, and even though you won’t let yourself go so far as to imagine marrying him it’s still nice to be a little bored with someone you care about. It’s homey. Domestic. And it makes you smile as you continue to sit there and hold his hand.

He doesn’t know when he had linked his fingers on his other hand with yours, but his arm is stretched out across his body while her other hand is curled around you. Almost protective as he curls around you on the bench and watches as Danny straightens proudly.

You might say it is, but this pretending isn’t just for him. Sure, your not-so-subtle ulterior motive might be to show him what he’s missing, but it’s also so that when you do have to move on - from the DEA and from him - you have these memories locked up to think back on on a rainy day. Maybe it isn’t really that good of an idea, but it’s the one you’ve got. And as the ceremony drones on and you curl into each other more and more, you can’t help but think how right it feels.

When Danny is repeating his vows, Javi leans his head against yours and sighs softly. He’s had one instance where he imagined marrying someone and he couldn’t do it. Until right now.

Squeezing his fingers gently in yours, you can’t quite make yourself look at him during these moments. Promising yourself that you wouldn’t go so far as to imagine you and him up at that altar isn’t much of a promise at all when your mind starts to wander.

Sighing softly, Javi hums when the entire church laughs, a response to the happy couple giggling as Danny lunges forward to kiss his bride before her own vows are said.

“So sweet,” you whisper without realizing it, sounding more than a little misty right next to his ear.

“They are.” Javi turns his head and his nose brushes against your temple where you have lifted your head up slightly.

“They really are.” The moment of tension hangs between you like thick jungle air, tugging on you with determination, but you don’t close the space between you no matter how much you want to. Kissing him is a torture you won’t put yourself through when you know it’s only make believe.

When the vows are finally done and the kiss starts, he hates having to pull away. Standing and clapping with the rest of the church as they turn around with nothing but hope and love in their eyes.

The church’s rec hall is ready and waiting for the influx of guests with bright decorations, cold drinks, and lively music. Chucho has been swept up in the celebratory mood by friends while you and Javi stroll behind at a leisurely pace. Your hand is still in his when you walk in, and right away people are calling it to him and coming over to say hello.

“Javier!” Danny’s mother, his tía, rushes over and smothers him in a hug, as if she didn’t run into him at the hardware store nearly a week ago. Apparently, even though Chucho had told her that he was coming, she hadn’t believed it until now.

She is beaming through happy tears, pulling Javi into her arms and regarding him with the same love that any mother would. "We're glad you could come, changuito."

Javi nods seriously and doesn’t pull away. “Of course, tía.” He murmurs quietly. “I can’t believe Danny is married.”

"He should still be in diapers," his aunt laughs happily, wiping a tear before it can hit her cheek and offering you a smile when she turns her head slightly. "But I hear you're next, eh? This is her?"

He can’t answer that, just nodding as he reaches back for you. Saying your name as he introduces you to his aunt. “This is Gloria, my tía. She is my mother’s sister.”

"I'm so glad to meet you." The hug you offer her is genuine, and the woman is smiling so broadly that she just might break apart if it gets any wider. "You must be so proud."

“Rosa looks so beautiful doesn’t she?” Gloria puffs up proudly as she turns towards the small crowd around the bride and groom. “So good for my Danny.” She hums as she eyes you and Javi. “Like you are for Javier.”

"I try to be." And that is, despite the slight ruse of the day, the honest truth. You have always tried to be there for Javi and be a good partner as well as a good friend. Sometimes bullshit would happen like your stupid moments of jealousy, but it never stopped you from caring about him with your whole heart.

“You are the first woman Javier has brought home.” She informs you proudly. “Lorraine was already here but we knew she wasn’t the one for our boy.”

“Sometimes it takes a few tries to get something right,” you offer, squeezing Javi’s hand gently. “But that’s life, right?”

Javi sighs and rolls his eyes. “I was gone.” He reminds his aunt, knowing this conversation would be repeated a hundred times before the end of the reception.

“And now you’re home.” She aims a wink at him that has you smirking before patting his shoulder. “You kids go get something to drink. I have to make the rounds.”

He huffs in amusement as she hustles away. “Kids.” He shakes his head. She will always view him as a kid despite being closer to forty than twenty.

“You’ll always be a kid to your family.” But the prospect of a drink does sound good, and you nod toward the table laden with bottles and surrounded by coolers. “Shall we?”

“Fuck yes.” Javi groans. The reception might be in the church reception hall, but there is no lack of beer and tequila for the guests. “Please.”

Your peel of laughter makes a few heads turn but you just ignore them, walking with him to the other end of the room and pulling out two bottles of cold beer. The whole thing is cozy and welcoming and you can’t find it in yourself to be upset about your decision to play pretend on a day as phenomenal as today.

As soon as everyone is in the room, the music starts. A mix of speakers and live instruments fill the hall and immediately the tías, abuelas and other women crowd into the kitchen to start bringing out platters of food. Javi knows about ten of the distant cousins had been drinking and cooking the meats out back on their grills during the ceremony so that it would be hot.

Plenty of people come by to make their observations or to unsubtly check you out, but you just smile and greet each of them in turn, keeping close to Javi and sipping your beer. Everyone is nice, despite the few Nosy Nellies, and you’re mostly content to sit and chat until the music makes your ears perk up. I Wanna Dance with Somebody is one of your all time favorite songs. “C’mon,” you insist with a grin, grabbing Javi’s hand. “No one can sit down when Whitney sings. It’s impossible.”

“I don’t–” Javi grunts, wanting to protest but you are pulling him up out of his chair before he can get too far into his grumbling. He sets his bottle down as he groans as he stands up straight.

“I know you can dance.” You remind him, having been to enough clubs together over your months as partners to have seen it a few times. On the rare occasion Javi isn’t working, he moves on a dance floor about as well as you assume he fucks — which is to say extremely well.

“Just because I can doesn’t mean I should.” He grunts, dutifully following you and he wonders if this is going to bite him in the ass.

It’s an energetic song, one that doesn’t leave you lingering in each other’s arms too much, so you thought it would be safe. Rocking back and forth with him, spinning around – all of that should have been perfectly fine. You just forgot, in a moment of madness, how much you like having his hands on you.

The beat is one that it is easy to move to. The other couples jostling about on the floor makes for him to move closer, pull you into his arms as you both move. Confining you together for the song as Whitney croons about dancing with someone who loves her.

It shouldn’t have been seductive in any way. It’s a light, joyful song. But the crush of every other guest who had the same impulse as you means one of Javi’s arms is wrapped tight around your waist as you move together, and the rhythm you’ve found is a much more silky smooth than you anticipated.

You are pressed against him, nearly grinding against him in a way that makes his breath catch. His fingers dig into your hips and he pants in your ear, not from the vigorous beat, but from trying to control his cock.

It’s the sound that makes your eyes tick up to his. His head is right beside yours and that proximity is a challenge all on its own, but it’s his breath that makes you find his eyes. It’s worry, or else it’s an attempt to check in with him, but what you see is that his deep brown eyes have turned almost black and his cheeks have pinked to the point of blush.

"Muñeca..." He grunts quietly, watching your eyes as they shift back and forth between his own and your damn gaze drops down to his lips. Making him lick them by force of habit.

It’s a bad idea. Truly. Probably a horrible idea. But your other hand has a mind of its own when it comes up to touch his cheek and ends up cupping his jaw in an unbelievably intimate gesture. “Javi…”

The soft plea in your voice breaks him. Smashes through every barrier he has attempted to erect to stay away. All it takes is a call of his name and a hand on his cheek and he is throwing away every vow he had made towards you. Lunging forward and capturing your lips with his and he molds you against him.

Blissfully unaware of all the tittering and the many watchful eyes, your whole reality has narrowed down to Javier as you cling to him. His kiss is as firm as his hold on you, promising luxuries and indulgence in the same breath that it threatens to break you apart to be worshiped piece by piece. It’s a kiss you can’t help but get lost in, and you surrender to it completely.

Javier had never been one for grand, public gestures. His intimacies – his dalliances – were always kept discreet, both for the sake of the women he was with and because he had been raised to not kiss and tell. Right now, he doesn't care about that, simply closing his eyes and sliding his tongue into your mouth.

The sound of a throat clearing doesn’t phase either of you, but being nudged almost makes you fall over as you had seemingly forgotten about everything but each other. “You’re still in a church, mijo.” His tía, Gloria, chides in an amused whisper. “There’s kids around.”

He clears his throat and drops his hands from your waist, eyes slightly shocked as he takes a step back. "Sorry." He murmurs quietly to his aunt.

“No one would notice if you needed to sneak away,” she teases before drifting off again, and as nice a woman as Gloria is, you could curse her for her timing.

Swallowing, Javi manages a small smile, knowing that he would not be able to sneak away with you. Kissing you shouldn't have even happened. "We're good."

“Maybe we should get something to eat.” The way he moved away from you made it feel like you burned him or forced him, and you can’t stand the thought of that.

“Of course, muñeca.” Javi is grateful to have something to focus on and his hand burns on your lower back as he turns you towards the tables laden down with food. You feel like you ought to apologize or something, but you don't want to. That kiss was every bit as perfect as you always knew it would be and you hate that he seems to regret it.

"Gloria's arepas are the best you will ever taste." He murmurs quietly. "But steer clear of her tamales." He warns. "They will give you heartburn and gas for a week."

"Maybe I want that," you joke, but steadily bypass the large bowl of tamales. "Get the dog back for farting on me every night."

“I don’t know what Pop is feeding him, but the smell is brutal.” Javi chuckles. “Oh, grab one of those.” He points to a small plate with a few pastries left. “You won’t regret it.”

"What is it?" Never one to turn up your nose at sweets, you immediately snap up one of the goodies for yourself and one for him.

“It’s some kind of yucca thing.” He shrugs and grins at you. “Never learned the name but they are fucking addictive.”

"We're gonna have to learn if they're as good as all that." The table of food is laid with all manner of Mexican and Texan home cooking, along with a few classic Southern staples and one dish that it seems like no one is willing to touch so you bypass it all together. An empty table along the wall is as good a place to sit as any and you head in that direction with Javi at your heels.

He had grabbed two fresh beer bottles as you had passed the drink table. Setting them down when you choose a spot and set your plate down. “I’ll grab some napkins.” He offers, realizing you both forgot them.

There is a little tittering around you at the table when Javi walks away - friends or family or just acquaintances who must have seen what happened on the dance floor or just heard that Javi has finally brought a girl home to meet the family. You ignore them dutifully, popping the bottle caps of your cold beers with the lighter from your purse, and sit back at the table to wait the mere thirty seconds it will take him to get napkins. Provided, of course, that he doesn't get sidelined by anyone on the way.

Javi grabs the napkins, turning around and heading back towards the table. Shaking his head as he watches everyone around you watching as if you are a fascinating creature.

“So you really haven’t ever brought a girl home.” When he comes back to you there’s an amused smirk on your face and nothing more. “You’d think I had a tail or something.”

He rolls his eyes and sighs. "I don't get it." He grumbles. "You would think that I was some kind of socially inept virgin or something." He knows why they are watchful. They've only ever seen him with Lorraine and couldn't possibly imagine him with anyone since he had never spoken of a woman.

“Or just a commitment-phobe.” Which you know is the real case. Javier flits from partner to partner like a hummingbird.

"Hmmm." Javi shrugs and picks up his bottle of beer. "There's that too." He acknowledges.

“It’s not the end of the world,” you shrug and pick up your fork, not wanting to give him the entire girlfriend-at-a-family-wedding experience, which definitely would have included some teasing about a ring. Instead, you’ll eat. Eating is safe.

"It's what happens when you don't show up to your last wedding." He tells you, taking a sip of his beer. "Elated that his fiancée finally had that stubbornly absent period that had you considering walking down the fucking aisle in the first place. Convenient that it was the night before we were getting married. Isn't it?"

"Marriage isn't for everybody." According to the people that knew him best, it was Lorraine that wasn't for him, but you aren't going to pick at an open wound. Instead you press your thigh against his while you sit and eat together, offering him a moment of grounding and comfort. "It's better that the two of you didn't drag yourselves through an angry marriage or an even worse divorce."

“And god forbid…kids.” Javi grunts. He would have never wanted to put a child through that shit.

"So you did what was best for you. Maybe it didn't seem nice at the time, but it was a hell of a lot nicer than the alternative." After all, Javi isn't a bad guy. Just a little unconventional in his methods. It's part of what you like so much about him. That the only person's expectations he bows to are his own.

“It’s for the best.” Javi shrugs slightly and picks up an arepa to take a large bite if it. “She’s here, by the way.”

"Oh?" That has you looking around the room instantly, as covertly as you can. "Where?"

He chuckles, not missing the instant curiosity that overcomes your features. You want to know what his ex looks like. “Over by the dessert table.” He hums. “The blonde in the flowery dress.”

"Interesting." She isn't what you would have guessed for him at all, but again, this is the woman that everyone says was so wrong for him. "She looks so..." You cringe apologetically. "Boring."

That comment catches him off guard and he snorts back a laugh. “That’s new.” He admits. “But kinda. You’re right. She wanted me to give up being a cop. Work for her daddy.”

"You could never give up being a cop." You shake your head, not able to imagine him doing anything else. Javier Peña was born to put bad guys away, no matter what form he did it in. "Like it's a damn good thing that Chucho has your cousins basically running the ranch, because you're a crime fighting guy to the bones."

“She hated it.” Javi shrugs. “I get it. It’s not an easy life.” He could have respected if she hadn’t been able to handle it. It was trying to change him that bothered him so much.

"That's for damn sure." It's also part of why you had never held onto a relationship long enough for it to be considered long-term. "Every guy I've ever dated has fully expected me to quit my job and get pregnant immediately. They want to turn me into a perfect little housewife. Now I'm not saying I'm against being a housewife, but it's just not for me."

“I don’t think any man would be happy to have his pregnant wife chasing sicarios, muñeca.” He murmurs. “I would chain you to your desk.”

"Who says I want kids? Who says I even want to get married?" You do, but for the sake of this exercise you're willing to be theoretical with him. "Having a conversation about it, or deciding together – that's different. But informing me that I will be living how they want me to with no other option because 'the man knows best' is just intolerable." It earns him a raised eyebrow from you. "If you tried to chain me to my desk, I'd knee you in the balls."

“I would take the pain if it meant you were not running across rooftops in the communas while you are pregnant.” He jokes, although he is kind of serious. “Limit it to one ball though. I would need the other if you wanted a second baby.”

He seems not to be entirely terrified of the topic, so you humor him with a smirk as you eat your arepa. "No running across rooftops if you ever knock me up, and you only get kicked in one ball instead of both. Got it. See? That's a compromise."

He rolls his eyes and chuckles, trying to ignore the thought of what would go into knocking you up. “So generous.” He grumbles sarcastically.

"It's fairly realistic, considering how stubborn we both are." You point out, enjoying the way it makes his cheeks turn pink to talk about. It's nice to know you aren't alone in the daydream even if he will never let it come to anything.

“You would try or threaten to shoot me within a month.” Humor seems to be a safe place to stand, especially when he can still feel your lips on his.

"I would not shoot you." It makes you laugh to imagine, though, and you manage to pull yourself back from the thought of getting pregnant to just being pregnant. "Unless the hormones get to me. Then I can't be held responsible."

“No gun when hormonal.” He hums, leaning back and grinning. “Got it.”

"It might finally get those CIA fuckers in line though." A thought which makes you fully guffaw. "An armed and pregnant DEA agent would be just enough of a pain in the ass to make them avoid me."

Javi laughs with you, aware that you would be given a wide berth if that were the case. “Escobar would be scared of you.” He jokes. “He would just– turn himself in.”

"In that case I need to be pregnant and on a plane back to Colombia immediately." The two of you giggling together is such a catharsis that you lean back in your chair and throw your whole self into laughing. "It would be studied in academy texts for years."

“They would be sending knocked up women to all the investigations.” He predicts. “Duty station of choice if you’re squeezing out a kid.”

You snort, taking a sip of your beer as you conjure that image in your mind. "But you have to be kept around your husband while you're there, and your husband isn't allowed to do a goddamn thing to help you ever. They need pregnant women who are at their maximum level of frustration."

“They are required to leave their dirty underwear on the floor.” Javi adds. “Especially when she’s too big to see her feet.”

"Tripping on dirty underwear sounds like the actual fastest way to make anyone mad." It earns him another snort, though, and you have to put the rest of your arepa down because you're laughing so hard. "There's wiretaps in everything so the second they hear your voice start to rise or worse...if you actually want to spend time with him? He's instantly sent to a poker night with his boys or something."

“He has to get drunk at the bar and come stumbling home to piss in your favorite potted plant.” Javi snorts. It’s good to see you relaxed, happy and laughing. Even better that it’s with him and he doesn’t want the moment to end.

"Nooo!" You frown instantly, pouting dramatically to make him laugh. "Not my plants!"

“Your favorite plants!” He insists, grinning and shaking his head. “And of course it dies a painful death.”

"Murphy's gonna fuckin' kill my plants." This time the pout is real, but you still chuckle through it, knowing that it isn't the end of the world. "If I ever get back to Colombia, I'll be starting from scratch."

“You will.” Javi predicts seriously. “You are going to go back. I know it.”

"Hopefully we both get to go back." It would be the nail in the coffin of any prayer of a relationship with him that you could have, but at least he would be happy. He would still be in your life, and you would both have your work, and you would make it okay as long as he got to be happy.

“That would be good.” You’re a damn fine agent and they would be lucky to have you back again.

"You deserve to be there." More than anyone else, Javi deserves to be in that fight and everyone knows it. "But just in case I can't go back with you, you gotta tell them about our pregnant agent plan, okay?"

“I will.” Javi’s already made up his mind. If he has to cash in every favor he has, he’s going to send you back to Colombia.

"Javier." An ice cold voice from behind you says his name like he's about to be sent to the principal's office, and you nearly jolt in your seat from the interruption of the surprisingly soft moment you were just having. To your surprise and amusement, the figure standing over your shoulder is a boring-looking blonde with a very curious look on her face. "Didn't expect to see you here."

“Lorraine.” Javi nods and sits up, halfway rising out of his chair but then he decides to stay seated. “I could say the same.” He admits. “How have you been?”

"Never better." She tips her nose up, giving you the distinct impression that she's lying. "Randy and I were just getting the kids ready to go home, but I thought I should at least say hello." Lorraine bristles slightly, casting an eye down at you. "Since the odds of seeing you at a wedding are so slim and all."

Javi takes the barb, accepting that out of everyone, she has the right to say something. “Apparently it’s just my own that I have an aversion to.” He jokes before he introduces you to his ex.

"Yes," she sniffs slightly when you put out your hand to her in the only polite gesture you can muster in the moment. "The girlfriend. I heard."

The venom in her tone surprises Javi, considering she’s gone on to marry Randy and have two children. Who are currently playing with his cousin’s kids. He watches as you shake hands and he feels the need to curl his arm around your shoulders. “Word travels fast, apparently.” He hums.

“It’s all over town.” She barely puts her hand in yours, weakly bent wrist and fingers as floppy as a fish snatched away as quickly as possible.

“People like to gossip.” He shrugs causally. “Wouldn’t be the first time people have talked about me.”

“You never give them reason not to,” she snipes, before standing up straight as a post again, like the stick inside her ass just reset itself.

“What the hell is the matter with you?” Her prim Church Lady Holier-Than-Thou bullshit almost has you careening up out of your chair but you keep your voice down to a hiss. This is somebody else’s big day and you’re not here to ruin that. “Did you seriously come over here just to say ‘hey I still hate you’?”

Javi unwinds his arm from around you, dropping it down to your thigh to squeeze it. “It’s okay, muñeca.” He reassures you softly. He doesn’t want a scene at his cousin’s wedding. He flashes her an apologetic look and his eyes slide towards her husband and children. “Seems like things worked out.” He points out. “You look….happy.”

“No thanks to you.” Lorraine looks you over, clearly turning up her nose when her appraisal is over, and huffs. “Anyway, I heard you’re not staying. That’s for the best.”

“It depends.” Javi is annoyed with her tone, but he grins, lacing his fingers with yours. “I think she likes the idea of a hometown family wedding.”

“I want whatever you want, mi guerrero.” However doting it might have sounded by accident, the soft sentiment and wistful tone in your voice is honest. If he decides to take the chance, you would drive in with him wholeheartedly.

It's not to annoy Lorraine, who used to plaster herself to Javi's side and beg him for kisses when they were out on the town, but simply because he wants to. He leans in and presses his lips to yours softly. "I love you." The words are said because they are true and you have heard them. You know how he feels because of his confession.

The stiff, priggish huff from above you makes no difference at this moment. All that matters in the soft, warm press of his lips and the way his words warm through you completely. If it’s the only time you’ll ever hear them like this, you’re going to savor them forever. “I love you, too.”

Javi hums, nudging his nose against yours before he pulls back. His heart thumping in his chest as you smile at him. When you finally look up again, drifting back to reality on the gorgeous feeling of lightness, Lorraine is nowhere in sight. "I think we annoyed her," you giggle softly, wishing you had the freedom to steal another kiss.

"I wasn't trying to do that." Javi hums, even though he is grinning back at you. "Not really. It's just a...perk."

"I would have thought it was the other way around." One hand finds his cheek softly, but you don't let the feeling linger. The last time you touched him even innocently, it had set you on fire.

He hates when you pull away, wanting to lean into your touch and chase your fingers on his skin. "Do you want to leave soon?" He asks. "Since we have ruffled some feathers?"

"Only if you do." A glimpse of a blonde walking out the door says that Lorraine is leaving, and people will always gossip no matter what, but if Javi is enjoying himself then you'll stay here forever. "This is your family, we can stay as long as you want."

"We can leave." Javi hums. He's full and the gossip is going to ramp up. He would rather not make you endure the entire saga of his canceled wedding.

"We should let your dad know." Especially if he wants to go home. Taking the truck means Chucho will either need to call you to come pick him up later or he'll need to get a ride from one of his numerous friends.

Javi nods, wiping his hands on his jeans as he stands. "I'll go let Pop know."

There are several rounds of goodbyes, ultimately, and Javi's family showers you in affectionate hugs and dozens of cheek kisses before sending the two of you on your way. "They love you," you hum, not dropping his hand as you stroll out of the building into the later afternoon sun.

"It's because I'm not around." Javi snorts as he guides you towards the truck, keys in hand. "They remember the boy I was."

"You're still worth loving." And the idea that he would think anything different is utterly ridiculous to your mind.

"Maybe." Javi doesn't dwell on it, moving to open the passenger door for you and watching you as you approach it.

"Definitely." And you're not going to get in the damn truck while he's being self-deprecating. "You're a better man than you give yourself credit for."

He rolls his eyes, not believing you, but he figures this is something you are going to be stubborn about. "Yeah, okay, sure." He huffs after a long moment. "Will you get in the truck?"

"One day you're going to believe me," you promise him, relenting and climbing into the cab.

"Perhaps." Javi sighs. "Or perhaps you will believe me."

"Nope." There are very few things in the world he could ever do to make you lose respect for him or stop loving him – and they really are things that Javier Peña would never do. "We're both too stubborn for our own good. Deal with it."

"Whatever you say." He rolls his eyes again, lips trying to suppress his grin as he closes the door to walk around the hood. You are just as stubborn as he is, but he doesn't mind you believing in him.

The drive back to the ranch is mostly quiet. The radio plays while Javi drives, and halfway down the long road from downtown out to the house, you take a chance on slipping your hand over his on the gear shift. He accepts it wordlessly, like he has the rest of today, but the warmth that runs through you is inescapable.

It's only when you are pulling back up to the ranch that Javi pulls his hand away. Hating the loss of your warmth, he looks over at you once the engine is cut. "Hell of a day."

“Not too bad, hopefully?” The idea of the exercise, of acting like his girlfriend all day, was never to tease or taunt him. But just to give you both a moment of warmth in the midst of everything that was seeming to go wrong.

"No, it was a pretty good day." He admits, staring at you as if he is making a decision. Fighting himself once again.

“And now we have some time to do whatever we want.” Although you wonder what that would be. He could suggest almost anything and you would agree.

"Muñeca." His jaw clenches and he takes a breath. "I– I don't know what's going to happen in D.C." He reminds you. "But, we have tonight."

“Are you…” Sitting there in the cab of his father’s truck, you can practically feel your jaw hit the floorboards. “Are you…suggesting that we evict MacGyver?”

"Unless you want the dog to watch?" He asks, lifting a brow in amusement.

You practically climb over the center console, fusing your lips to his greedily and letting one hand cup his cheek as the other finds its way into his hair with the depth of the kiss. He could invite the entire town to watch and you wouldn’t care.

Javi groans your name against your lips, immediately crushing you against him and his hands turn greedy. Pulling you out of the truck and pressing you against the side. The neediness is only matched by how giddy you feel, and the second you’re both out of the truck you’re pulling him toward the house. “Can’t get in trouble for fucking while we were both suspended.”

"Fuck it." Javi is already unbuttoning his shirt when he has to take his hands off of you. Dropping it on the front porch.

When you come together again it’s like an explosion. One that scatters clothing and moans to the wind and sends both dogs skittering in confusion. Pieces of furniture or doorways in the way are staging areas that you will be pressed against on your way back to the bedroom and nothing more.

At the entrance to the bedroom, Javi licks into your mouth desperately, his cock grinding against you. "Muñeca." He murmurs, kissing along your jaw once he can tear his lips away from yours. "I love you."

“I love you, too.” Your dress lays discarded in the hallway somewhere, your shoes and purse and Javi’s shoes and belt along with it. There will be no doubt of what the two of you have gotten up to when Chucho gets home, but neither of you is even thinking of that right now. Right now Javi is steering you blindly toward the bed and your hands are trying desperately to open his jeans before he manages it.

By the time that the back of your knees hit the bed, his hand has abandoned his jeans. Certain that you would take care of freeing him from the tight confines of the denim, he plunges his thick fingers into your panties, twisting his hand and finding your folds.

“Oh shit—” He swallows your moan completely, adding one of his own to it when you finally manage to pop the buttons on his jeans and get your hand inside. His cock is a s hard as your pussy is wet, making both of you cling that much tighter to each other as you topple backward into the mattress.

"Fuck your cunt is hot." He groans, pushing his fingers deeper, pushing them up inside you to curl up. It's just as hot and tight as he had imagined, several times while he was inside another woman, but he wouldn't tell you that.

“Jesus—fuck—oh my god, Javi—” You knew he would be good. Dozens of women didn’t hang on his every fucking word and expression for no reason. But to feel it is something so utterly different that it has scrambled your mind almost immediately.

"So sweet." He nips your jaw and pumps his fingers into your heat slowly. "Jesus Christ, you feel so good. Imagined this cunt. How you would feel around me."

“Imagined how good your cock would feel.” With one hand around his length, the long strokes you make up and down have his veins pulsing gorgeously. “Jeans don’t leave a goddamn thing to the imagination.”

"Fuck." He hisses, rolling his hips forward. "They are comfortable."

“Drive me fucking crazy every single day.” You pump his cock eagerly, every thrust of his fingers making you nearly grip too tight.

"You fucking drove me crazy." He moans. "C–constantly visiting Gabby to get you out of my head."

“Named my favorite dildo Javi,” you admit with a smirk, twisting underneath him to unclasp your bra. “Still not as good as this cock is going to be.”

"You don't know that." He smirks and ducks his head down to bite your nipple and then sucks on it when you pull your bra off. "Could be horrible at fucking."

“Doubtful.” The way you gasp and undulate under him is practically making the windows fog and you couldn’t give less of a shit. “Very fucking doubtful. I’ve seen the cock drunk looks on the typists’ faces the next day.”

He chuckles and hums as he sucks on your breast again. "I didn't care about them." He reminds you.

“Neither do—fuck—I.” That tongue of his is going to be the death of you. Clever with words but cleverer with pleasure. “Was so fucking jealous, though.”

"They weren't you." He coos, kissing up your chest and then pressing his lips to yours. "No one was you."

The fluttering that carries through you is so deep and so true that you stop altogether, caressing his cheek with your other hand. “I love you, cariño. Since the day we met, I think. There’s just…there’s no one in the world like you.”

"Can't account for taste." He teases gently, nuzzling in your hand. He closes his eyes and sighs softly. "I love you."

“I love you.” As many times as he says it, you will repeat it back to him, reminding him that he is not alone in this feeling. That he never has to be alone again. “And no piece of shit bureaucrat is going to stop me.”

He hums and then starts to tug your panties down. Wanting to touch you. “Fuck–fuck, need a condom.” He needs to be inside you but he's not bought condoms in forever and he damn sure wouldn't trust any that were in this room.

“I’m safe.” The idea of stopping now, when he has your panties halfway down your thighs and his cock out for you to drool over, is absolutely unacceptable. “Thank god for birth control, right?”

"Best invention ever." Javi groans, rushing to kiss you again before he pulls away to his knees so he can strip off your panties and kick off his jeans.

If you giggle at his enthusiasm it’s only because it matches your own. The erratic way your heart is beating says everything needs to: whatever comes next, this night is just for the two of you. It’s probably less suave than he would have imagined, sliding between your thighs. Need making him impatient and fumbling. It had been a long time since he had been so emotionally connected during something like this.

The first kiss of pressure when he slides the head of his cock through your dripping folds and begins to push forward is ecstasy. There is no thought for who else either of you may have touched, no moment of claiming or possession. It is togetherness in the purest sense of the term that has you gasping out loud, moaning his name into the Texas sunset. It feels like you’ve finally found the missing piece of you when Javi fills you completely, and your arching back brings you up to press as much of your body against his as you can manage.

Every second inside you makes his breathing ragged. Now because of the physical act, he’s had sex, great sex. It’s because it’s you. It feels like home. It’s the only way he can describe the way his entire body simultaneously lights up and goes numb to all but the slightest sounds you make as your eyes flutter close and the most delicate whine rips from your parted lips.

“Javi…” Breathing his name again, you wrap one arm around his shoulders and the other braces on the bed beneath you. Like this you can meet every thrust and ply kisses from him with every roll of your hips.

“Fuck, muñeca.” Javi groans, holding you closer as he starts a pace that isn’t quite frantic but enthusiastic.

“So f—fucking perfect.” Already there are beads of sweat down your back and along your forehead, the movements of your bodies eager and fierce as you come together.

His teeth snap together as he pushes into you harder, enough to make your body jolt and a perfect little squeal erupt from your chest.

“Fuck!” It’s good – so good – it’s perfect – the way he feels buried in your pussy, but you need more. You need to be branded by every inch of him so that you can return to this night over and over again in the years to come. “Let me—on your back, baby. Wanna ride you.”

He groans, nodding as he steals a last kiss before reluctantly pulling away. “You knew this was going to happen when we danced.” He pants, accusing you of planning this, but only playfully.

“Hoped.” You can admit that as he sprawls out on his back, giving you the chance to admire him before you straddle his hips and line yourself up to sink down on him. “Honestly thought I was being well behaved for not choosing a slow song.”

“Slow would have been better,” he groans, grabbing your hip when you reach down and wrap your talented hand around his cock. Lifting up so you can take him again. “Driven me crazy.”

“Then we’re even.” Another whine tears from your throat as you sink down on him, but there is no adjustment period this time. Your cunt is slick enough to take three of him and you’re not about to lose this moment to anything. Encouraging his other hand up to your tits, you start to move with the kind of enthusiasm that has sweat beading on your skin all over again.

You look like a fucking goddess. Or maybe a siren. Either way, you tempt him to reach for more. His hands squeeze and hold you like he is afraid you will slip out of his grasp.

“Dreamed about this.” It all comes tumbling out of your mouth as you bounce on him, tight walls of your pussy welcoming him deep inside you every time. “Riding you on the fuck—file room floor. Getting you to bend me over your desk and claim me.”

“You– you like that kind of thing?” Javi groans and twitches deep inside your cunt when you clench around him.

“Not before you,” you admit, looking down at him as you roll and twist your hips. “Now I want it so bad.”

He groans again, hisses slightly at how good it feels when you do that. “Why?” He gasps out.

"You. Would shout it from the f–fuck–ing rooftops." The moan that escapes you is loud enough that you're grateful no one else is home. That, and the fact that you've never been this fucking chatty during sex before. Chucho would find out a whole lot about you if he was home.

He chuckles, more like gasps in amusement as you slam down on his cock again. Groaning your name as he watches you bounce on him. “Fuck, fuck baby.”

"So fucking good." His hand on your hip grips you tightly and you never falter in your pace, working you both toward an end that is going to leave both of you rattling.

“Jesus Christ.” Javi hisses, throwing his head back into the pillow as his hips jerk up. “Fuck baby, you– oh fuck.”

"Didn't think you were the only good lay at the embassy, did you?" You tease, breathless and moaning at the way his cock seems to drill all the way into your belly when you slam your hips down to meet his again.

"You– fuck, you develop a reputation?" He asks, smirking up at you and moaning again when you roll your hips.

"CIA fucks tried." Not that you had let them anywhere near you. They weren't Javi, first of all, and they didn't give you an ounce of respect. Kind of like the guys from Milgroup who tried to get in your pants before they knew you were an agent. "Only wanted you."

He hums, proud of that even though it wasn't fair how much he indulged. Right now they don't matter, nothing matters but you and he lunges up to kiss you.

It catches you off guard enough to send you tumbling to the mattress again, and Javier is above you again before sliding back inside you so easily that the wet pull of your cunt is barely an echo of the way all your nerve endings set off one by one. You were already so close to cumming that your legs were beginning to shake, and the look in his eyes says you're about to be pounded in the mattress in the most breathless and loving way possible.

There has always been an edge to his fucking, a roughness that normally presents itself in the bite of his teeth or harshness if his grip. This time, he uses the sharp snaps of his hips to make sure that you feel every inch of his cock pummel your pussy as he stakes his claim on you.

It's exactly what you said you wanted -- this feeling of being claimed – and you simply let go. He can have you any way he wants as long as he is still fucking you and you won't have a single thing to say about it except to ask for more.

The muscle in his jaw and neck strain as he rocks into you at a pace that keeps your moans breathless and ragged. Hissing again at how good it feels to be inside you.

"Oh fuck — oh fuck, Javi–" His name barely makes it past your lips as your hands tighten on him and you let out another, tighter cry. The air is full of the wet slap of skin on skin and your body is pulling tight as a bowstring. "I'm gonna cum baby, fuck."

“Yes.” Javi groans. “Yesssss.” Feeling your body start to buck and tremble under him and he keeps driving into you. Wanting you to cum for him.

It doesn't take more than another three or four strokes before your vision turns white and stars spark behind your eyes, a long moan pouring from your open lips and his name following after it like he has just fucked it out of the depths of his soul with the last thrust.

Right when you clench down on him, Javi's entire body stiffens. Unable to do more than just tumble over the edge after you and thrust deep, feeling the purest pleasure he has ever known wrack his body as your orgasm heightens his own.

"Holy hell." When you can breathe again you're immediately reaching to wrap your arms around him, pulling Javi close and keeping him there with no thought to having his weight pressing you further into the bed.

Humming, Javi's body relaxes and he sighs as he turns his head to snuggle into your neck and kiss your pulse. "Like that?"

"I'll..." You swallow the bittersweet reality of it as you lie with him in your arms. "I'll never forget it." You can promise him that. Even if tomorrow comes and he wants these moments kept in the folder in his mind meant for daydreams, you will never forget a single second of it.

He groans quietly and shakes his head. "Hard to ever forget."

"I won't say it again if you don't want me to, but...I love you, Javi." The pretending was worth it. You don't regret the decision for a second. But putting your feelings back on the shelf is going to be harder than you had originally thought, and you already knew it was going to be difficult.

"I love you too." Javi pulls back and reaches up to caress your face gently and kiss you one more time before he starts to pull out of you gently.

“Bet you didn’t have this on your Bingo card for having me stay at the ranch.” Laughter is good, it keeps you from sinking down or thinking too much about how this really might be a once in a lifetime experience.

"No," Javi can admit that, rolling onto his back and wishing that he could have a cigarette. Chucho didn't allow smoking in the house and he didn't want to put on pants and go outside. He opens one arm and offers you a place to snuggle up. "I don't think you expected it either."

"Expect? No." His open arm is beckoning you and you curl up against him happily. A cigarette would be fucking perfect right now but you're not even sure where you dropped your purse even if Chucho did allow it inside. "But a girl can hope."

"It's hard to resist you." He admits, looking up at the ceiling as his arm closes around you and his fingers start to map your skin gently. "Hardest thing I've ever fucking done. And I failed."

“Can’t say I’m upset about it, honestly.” If you even claimed it that would be a horrible lie. His soft touches are as tantalizing as his rougher ones, and it is making your skin tingle.

“I gathered.” He hums, smirking slightly. “If I could move I would be having a cigarette right now.” He admits, laughing at himself.

"You and me both," you hum back, feeling a tiny bit embarrassed with how your mouth ran away with you.

“We have D.C. in a few days.” Javi thinks out loud as he watches the fan spin lazily.

"I know." It will mean going back to being coworkers. Leaving this day – this night – behind you and being professional again. You've already gotten suspended for fucking one partner. You don't need to get in trouble for both.

"If I get fired, I've decided that I'm going to come back here." He announces softly, turning his head and looking over at you. "What will you do? Any plans?"

“I have no idea.” And considering you’re pretty certain that you’ll end up getting the boot, you should probably think about it. “Could see if the Marshals will take me back. Or try local PD wherever I end up, I suppose.”

"You know....Pop likes you." He ventures, not daring to look over at you while he broaches the subject. "And MacGuyver is in love with you too. Poor boy would be missing all the love you shower on him. And the scraps you slip him."

It isn’t as subtle or smooth as he thinks it is, the way he lays the idea out for you to consider, and you turn your head to watch him inspect the ceiling instead of actually looking at you. “Are you asking me to stay, Jav? As in stay with you?”

He swallows slightly and opens his mouth a few times, half sounds coming out before he closes it again. Sighing as he rolls his head to the side to meet your gaze and nodding. "Guess I am." He shrugs one shoulder and shoots you a self deprecating grin. "If that's something you would want if you get fired."

“Alright,” you manage to swallow an almost giddy sound and nod, holding yourself to just a broad smile. “If we get fired, I’ll stay.”

"Alright." He nods back at you and tries to smother the pleased look on his face. "If we get fired, we will get into Pop's hair."

“I don’t want to ruin the mood…” you sigh despite yourself. “What if only one of us gets fired?”

"If you get fired, you have a place here then too." He promises, frowning slightly as he tries to imagine what he would do. "If I get fired..." he shakes his head. "You have Pop's number." He grunts. "If you need anyone to talk to when you're on a stakeout."

“If I get fired, you want me to keep living with your dad?” It’s sweet, actually, the way he twists the situations and tries not to overstep. It’s not like you have anywhere else to go, but the way he says it is sweet and almost tentative.

"He's old and he snores way too loud when he's in that damn recliner...." Javi jokes, his hand sliding up and down your back. "But I know he would love the company. Especially if you keep making that one recipe."

“He grows so many damn leeks in his garden, I don’t know how he wasn’t making potato leek soup for years already.” Chancing it, you place a kiss on his shoulder and just let yourself smile. “I don’t want this to be the end either, Jav…I just don’t want you to feel like you have to offer me a place here.”

"I know I don't." His brows knit together and he shakes his head. "That's not why I'm offering. I– if you don't want to stay, you don't have to."

“I want to be with you,” you clarify, and lean up on your arm in his bed. “Fired or otherwise. Long distance or right in the same bed. Fuck, I’d go back to Colombia as a civilian if you asked me to. But only if that’s what you really want.”

"I don't know what will happen, muñeca." He admits softly. "But I don't want to go back to pretending that you are just my work partner."

“Then we will figure it out.” The lines in his face crease when he frowns, all except the slight crows feet by his eyes, and you trace them with your finger without realizing really what you’re doing. “We’ll see what the big bosses say, and we’ll figure out what it means for us.” You shoot him a sly smirk. “And the dog is going to have to learn how to sleep elsewhere again, because leaving the door open isn’t gonna happen anymore.”

"Oh yeah?" The frown slides into a grin that is slightly mischievous. "Why is that?"

“Because,” you pretend to roll your eyes, like you’re sighing over him not getting your joke even though he’s teasing. “As much as I love MacGyver? I’d rather we have the freedom to fall asleep naked, exhausted, and smelling like really good sex.”

"Really good sex." He grunts, his hand coming down to squeeze your ass. "So I need to tell Pop not to poke his head in and check on us during the night anymore."

“Probably for the best.” You snort, not realizing he had been doing that at all. “Unless you want your dad to get an eye full.”

"Might excite the old man into having a heart attack." He chuckles. "Damn near stopped my heart."

“All respect and love to Chucho, but that’s not a view of me I want him to have.” Javier, however? He could tie you up naked to enjoy the view and your only question would be if he was ever going to join you.

"Then I suggest we share a shower before pop gets home." He hums. "We could always sneak out to the back porch to smoke a cigarette naked. No one workin' today."

“Depends.” Sitting up again, you stretch your arms over your head and sigh out happily. “Do you need a little longer? Because I was going to suck your cock in the shower.”

"Fuck." Javi groans, and his cock twitches slightly. "Cigarette, shower, then another cigarette."

“You’re on.” The giggle that floats out of you is easy and free, and you glance back at the shut door guiltily. “And we should probably pick up the mess we made on our way in.”

"Less Pop knows we stripped in the house, the less shit we get." He admits, patting your ass in appreciation and watching you sit up.

“Then get your ass moving, Peña.” You grin and shake your own a little when you get up. “I’m gonna track down my purse.”

"You know you were never actually my boss, right?" He grumbles as he stands up and stretches, scratching his ass before he follows you out of the room. "Being bossy doesn't mean you're the boss."

“Oh, I know I wasn’t before this.” When you smirk at him over your shoulder, it’s devilish. “But we’ve crossed over, cariño. The rules have changed. Girlfriends are always the boss.”

"Great." He scoffs, shaking his head and trying not to smirk. "That's just fuckin' great."

******

"Agent Peña, how much do you know about the Cali Cartel?" The question hangs in the air thicker than cigarette smoke, with Spencer staring down his nose at Javier like a headmaster with an exceptional yet naughty pupil.

Javi shifts in his seat, slightly exhausted from the night of hotel sex that you and he had indulged in. Since you both had to pay for your lodging, he had booked a room that had a jacuzzi tub in the middle of the room and a mirror on the ceiling over the bed. It had been a good fucking night. "I do." He nods, looking back at the man in confusion. He had been brought here for a disciplinary meeting was the working assumption.

"How much?" Spencer prompts again, leaning forward in his chair. If Peña is going to be useless to him then it doesn't matter. But if he has his nose in as much information as people seem to think he does, then Javier Peña may still be an asset to the agency.

Javi shifts and repositions in the chair and stares at the bureaucrat. "Run by Gilberto and Miguel Rodriguez, Cali is estimated to produce over eight percent of the cocaine in the world." He tells him conversationally. "Less violent than Escobar, at least publically. The ‘Gentlemen of Cali’ have legitimate businesses that cover their less than legal enterprises and I'd put their operation at about..." He bobbles his head. "Twenty billion dollars per year."

"Have you had dealings with them? Run-ins? Good information? Things that can be worked with?" Information is its own kind of currency, and Spencer isn't trying to sound greedy for it but that definitely is what he is.

"Their second in command – at least as much as you could call him that – Pacho Herrera, was involved with Escobar." He senses that Spencer wants what Javi knows and pounces on that. "I've still got plenty of connections that deal with him." He shrugs. "Personal ones, you know?"

"Ones that will only work with you." Spencer nods in understanding. Sometimes that is the way criminal informants operate. Everyone in law enforcement understands.

"That's right." He agrees, leaning back in his chair slightly. Waiting for the man to offer the opportunity. From the tone of the meeting it was coming.

"When you're reinstated we'll need you to initiate contact again right away." To the bureaucrat, of course, there is no question. Peña will take the job they are prepared to offer him because he would be an idiot not to. And Javier Peña is many things, but very few people have ever considered him an idiot. "Station Chief is a little different than you're used to but the hours are better and the office is comfortable."

His brow arches in surprise and he waits another minute before he speaks again. He can see Spencer getting impatient, wanting his answer in the affirmative. "Under one condition." He says finally.

"Depends on what it is," the man chuckles, fully expecting a negotiation for an absurd salary jump or some kind of provisional luxury that would be out of the question. He could whittle it down to something doable and they would both consider it a win.

Javi says your name and waits for recognition to register on Spencer's face. "She comes with me to Colombia, and the disciplinary letter is removed from her file."

"Jesus." He sits back, rolling his eyes a little and huffing. "What does this woman have that seems to make all our agents lose their minds over her?" Spencer shakes his head, ready to say no when he sees the dead serious cut of Peña's jaw. "Why her?" He asks instead. "Why not get Murphy back?"

"Murphy’s going back to Miami." Javi reminds him, knowing that being home is the best thing for his and Connie's relationship. "He’ll be happy where he is and she's a good agent." He insists. "Better than Murphy, better than me."

"She's a liability." He reminds the agent on the other side of his desk. "Too emotional. Too sentimental."

"It won't be a problem." Javi assures him. "She's going, one way or another, so you might as well get an agent out of it."

That makes Spencer hesitate, and he looks up from the papers in front of him to level Peña with a stern expression. "You know there is a hard and fast fraternization rule if you're her superior, don't you?"

"Doesn't count if the relationship was established before the promotion." Javi answers, calling his bluff.

"You'll have to provide documentation." This is going sideways just a little and Spencer pulls tight on the reins to make sure he doesn't lose control. "If you can do that, it's all clear."

Javi huffs in amusement and nods. "Fine." He shrugs, the tickets to Texas and the pictures that you had taken on the ranch of the two of you should suffice. "She retains agent status, then?"

Spencer sighs, longer and more irritated than it should be, but it is what it is. "As long as she treads carefully. You're responsible for her now, Peña."

"She should have just gotten a slap on the wrist the last time and you know it." Javi stands and rolls his shoulders back. "We done here?"

"My secretary has your paperwork. Sign it and tell her where to mail your tickets to Colombia. You're back in that embassy in a week," He flashes a murky, insincere smile. "Enjoy the rest of your vacation, Chief."

Nodding, Javi doesn't offer the man his hand, just turns to walk out of the office to find you sitting in a chair on the other side of a very bored looking secretarial desk. "You're up." He murmurs, not wanting to tell you about what had just happened until after you are out of this building.

"Don't sound so excited about it." You try to laugh so that you don't seem nervous, but pass him into the office with a deep exhale. "Sir." It's reflex to close the door behind you, but you don't sit until Spencer waves his hand at the chair that Javi was just occupying.

"Sit." His original plan had been to give you your walking papers, kicking you out of the DEA, but that had been changed by Javier Peña. "This shouldn't take long."

"Yes, sir." You knew it. To keep from deflating, you sit up in that chair as ramrod straight as humanly possible and fold your hands in your lap. You're getting fired. You knew it.

Despite his assurances that it wouldn't take long, Spencer spends several moments shuffling papers and scribbling furiously. He will have to have your records put back and he pulls out the disciplinary letter out of your file to be shredded. "When did you start fucking Peña, agent?" He asks, not looking up as he continues to write. "Before or after you returned to the United States?"

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. You swallow harshly but make sure that your face doesn't change whatsoever. "After, sir."

Spencer finally looks up, watches you for a moment and then nods. "Peña said the same." He tells you. "Relationships between a station chief and an agent are frowned upon, but..." He shakes his head and sighs. "It can't be censured if it happened before a promotion as was just pointed out to me." He stares at you, jaw clenched before he shoots you a bland smile. "Pack your things, agent." He tells you. "You're going back to Colombia."

"Thank you, sir." That is a whole lot of news to take in all at once, and you have to hold yourself up by sheer force of will so that you don't just deflate with relief on the spot. "Immediately?"

"As soon as your tickets can be purchased." He nods before he points at you. "It's your last chance." He warns you. "Peña put his own ass on the line for you. So if you fuck up..." He shrugs. "He can't save you."

"I understand, sir." Life by the book is going to be an interesting way to live with Javier Peña beside you, but it's an adventure you're excited to take.

______

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Valence: Epilogue

Author's Note: I just wanted to say, thank you all for going on this journey with me! Thank you for all of the love and support you've shown me and this fic. It means so much and I'm so happy so many of you enjoyed it! Summary: The daughter of a drug lord, you're ready to take over the family business. Your father's only stipulation? You must marry the man he has picked out for you instead of the man you love in order to claim your kingdom.

TW: slight sexual content (18+ minors do not interact), talk of drugs

Word Count: 2k

Chapter Ten Masterlist

It was Danny that stood before you in your office in the Kiszka’s home, the fireplace raging at your back as summer had turned to fall and fall had turned to winter.

Josh was taking a much-needed break from the business and was letting you handle things for the time-being, even though you planned to run it alongside one another when he was ready to return, you as the head, him as your right-hand man. But for now, the desk that sat across from yours sat empty, waiting for Josh to fill it.

It gave you a better view of the snow falling though, unobstructed by the mess of curls piled atop his head.

It was a different mess of curls that stood in front of you now though, looking much less bubbly than the Kiszka boy in comparison. You hadn't seen him in months and his presence there was certainly unexpected, though you didn't find yourself upset over the opportunity to speak with him. He had been on your mind as of late.

He had entered silently but purposefully and you knew you only had one chance to say to him what you'd been thinking lately, what had been haunting you ever since the day of your father's funeral that felt much more distant after Jake's rescue not long after. But still, you remembered clearly the way Danny's arms had wrapped around Lily to hold her up in her grief, a kindness he had not afforded to you when you needed it most. When you might have needed him most. And as you looked at him, watched him stand there before you on the other side of the desk, you hardly even recognized him.

Maybe he hardly recognized you too.

“I could have needed you, you know," you started before he had a chance to break the silence himself.

You breathed a light sound into the quiet, not moving to meet him but choosing to sit there in your rightful place as he faced you. "I could have needed the friend I once had.”

He didn't look far hurt enough by it. Actually, he looked certain. He looked certain that that wasn't what he had wanted.

“I don’t want to be your friend. It’s not enough. Not after what we had.”

You watched as he shook his head, fiddling with his hands nervously at the admission. He wasn't ashamed of it, no. Just afraid to tell you, knowing it would hurt you.

You knew he meant it. And you understood then why you had never been right for one another. But even still, reminiscence hurt, and you would mourn for the friend you had lost, there practically since birth to guide you through life.

“It was enough for you once,” you whispered as the memories of him as a small boy flooded your mind, memories of him with his then-frizzy curls wandering the gardens with you, playing and laughing, reading books under the covers in the sheath of night.

"We lose things so we can gain things," your mother had said. But she hadn't said we couldn't miss the things we had lost.

He was silent under your stoicism, saying nothing for a long moment before he finally changed the subject.

"We're leaving, Lily and I. If you'll allow it."

He met your eyes with thinly veiled emotion, trying to hide the pain he felt as he said it, even despite the fact that you could tell it was what he wanted.

But still, it would be dangerous for them to leave. You knew now that there were Antony's still out there, a single remaining son who had been visiting a smaller family in the countryside, preparing to buy out their product. You expected him to make a peace deal with you but there was no guarantee he wasn't plotting his revenge as you and Danny spoke. And you'd prepared for it many months ago, sure. But it was a risk nonetheless.

With them gone, you couldn't keep him safe, couldn't keep your sister safe. And you hated the idea that your decision would bring their swift end. Not that you had regretted that decision. But still, it was a consequence nonetheless.

"You should know that if you choose to leave, I cannot protect you. There are people out there who may come for you because of what I started. I will not be there to save you."

He only clenched and unclenched his teeth with a singular nod.

"I understand."

It would hurt you to see him leave. But maybe it was for the best. At least he could protect Lily. At least neither of them would be alone. At least he would no longer look at you with the sad wet dog look he had, looking small under your eyes knowing he didn't want to be around you any longer.

Maybe it would bring him peace.

"Then I will allow it."

He nodded as if to thank you and finally, his eyes turned upward and he looked a little less forlorn, standing there with almost a smile on his lips. Not quite, but almost.

"You'll be good here. I see it now. Your father would be proud. Your mother would be proud."

You didn't know if he was right. You weren't really convinced you'd done what your father would have done, after all. But you weren't your father. You no longer wanted to be your father. You weren't your mother either. You were a product of them, sure, but you weren't them. You made your own decisions, made your own mistakes, loved in a way that was entirely you, lost in a similar way, and at the end of it all, you were proud of yourself for doing what needed to be done.

"Are you happy?" he spoke again over the silence as you lost yourself in thought.

And with his question, you met his eyes again with certainty.

"Yes. I'm happy."

You were, immeasurably so. Even without the business, without the kingdom at your fingertips, you were the happiest you had ever been. You had your Jake, back there was nothing to be unhappy about.

There was nothing left to dwell on.

But Danny only nodded.

"Are you?" you asked back.

He was silent for a long moment, perhaps debating his answer. It seemed like a no if it wasn't an immediate yes. But you only watched a moment longer before a light smile finally found his lips.

"I'll find it."

It might have broken your heart.

"I'll find it."

As he turned to leave, you knew it was the last time you'd see him. And you hoped that he would find it, the happiness he deserved.

—

Jake had grown stronger with each passing day. The nightmares had almost stopped entirely, the bruises had faded, stitches had come out and his fingers had healed, allowing him to play guitar once more.

He was himself again, your Jake, seemingly more now than he ever had been, like a second chance at life had made him a little less serious and a little more handsy, unable and unwilling to deny himself any of the pleasures of life. Really, it warmed your soul to see him that way. The sight alone had pieced you back together.

"There you are," he chirped as you met him in your now shared bedroom, moving to ready yourself for a meeting with a much smaller family that wanted to sell out their farms.

"Sorry, I got…held up," you murmured, letting him catch you for a quick kiss as you headed to your vanity in search of particular diamond earrings that always made you feel powerful. Not that you didn't feel powerful now without them because you certainly did.

"Anything I need to know about?" he asked as he watched you flit about the room in search for them, smiling as he produced them easily having known where they were and handing them to you with an outstretched palm.

"Nothing important," you assured him as you took the jewelry from his hand absentmindedly, still thinking about the friend you had once had.

Danny had found his path forward. And as much as it had hurt you to see him go, it brought you peace thinking about him moving on, thinking about him being okay. Suddenly you weren't angry, you didn't feel guilty. You knew then that you couldn't have ever given him what he really wanted. You were never meant to be with him and though it hurt to lose him, it had brought you to Jake.

And Jake was where you really belonged.

Jake's smile widened, his eyes sparkling with that knowing that he always had, always seeing you a little deeper than you showed yourself. But he let the 'nothing' slide.

“I'm choosing to believe that," he smiled easily. "Now, can we talk about this security detail? Is that really necessary?”

You'd increased Jake's security detail, quite a bit at that, just until you felt certain there was no one after him. He hardly went a moment without security in the room with him, just as they were now, lining the walls like statues adorning the home. They were there from the moment he woke until the moment his head hit the pillow for a good night's rest. It was the only comfort you could find in the silence of enemy movements. Or lack thereof.

“Yes, it is," you answered with a sigh, finally letting yourself turn to him as the earrings found their place in your ears. "And if you argue with me about it, I'll increase it even more.”

You gave him a quick peck on the cheek as he answered you with a smirk and a, "Yes, ma'am," catching you by the wrist before you had a chance to step too far away from him and pulling you into an immediately heated kiss.

"Guess I'll just have to get creative," he mumbled against your lips as he reached both hands up into your hair to tilt your head back and slide his tongue into your mouth, which you accepted with a hum before you remembered your surroundings.

“Jake, we have company,” you huffed in a near breathless voice as you pulled back, eyes already hooded with lust for the man you happily called your husband.

“Dismiss them if they don’t want to watch, then. It'll be hard to look away from though," he smiled, utterly pleased with himself, as he usually was.

He was just as irresistible now as he was when you had met him, the tension never thinning, so much so that the housekeepers maintaining the home had taken to wearing earplugs. And Josh and Sam just suffered, apparently.

You dismissed the relieved guards with a flick of your wrist as Jake's lips dropped down to your neck, knowing you wouldn't put up a fight for long.

“J-Jake, are you forgetting we have somewhere to be?” you breathed as his hands busied themselves smoothing up your thighs under your dress and hooking into your panties to pull them down, all as his body backed yours up to your vanity where your hips met the wood with a thud.

“You can’t be late to your own meeting? he asked, his lips still working against the crook of your neck to elicit those sounds he loved so much, the ones you were desperately trying to stifle as you thought about how late you already were, how much later you were going to be. "What kind of job is this?”

“I have to set an example,” you answered breathlessly as he continued his attack.

And even though your words challenged him, your body didn't. Your body pressed into him with need, without shame. He was the man you wanted day and night. You couldn't be kept from him. You never could be.

You let him lift you onto the vanity, knowing he'd swiftly replace whatever objects were falling and breaking against the hard wood beneath you as he did so.

“I’m just a faithful subject trying to show you my devotion since I missed your swearing in,” he gave you another sweet smile as he halted his attack on your skin to look up at you as he sank down onto his knees.

"There was no sw-swearing in," you whispered with a gulp as you watched his sweet look turn mischievous.

"All the more reason then," he grinned before turning his lips to the inside of your knee, his hands holding the fronts of your ankles as he kissed along the skin of your leg.

“Mmm is that so?” you asked, letting your head fall back against the mirror and your eyes flutter closed as he kissed up and up and up the inside of your leg.

He only hummed against your skin as his lips worked their way up the inside of your thigh, just before he pulled back one last time.

“Now spread your legs for me, Mrs. Kiszka, so I can show you just how loyal I am to you.”

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[twoidiotwriters1]

Daughter of Olympus (Leo Valdez xFem!Oc)

A/N: It's family time! -Danny Words: 2,295 Series' Masterlist Previous Chapter / Next Chapter Listen to: 'Matilda' -by Harry Styles

XXIX: Not the Reunion You Wanted but the Reunion I Needed

Ara's surprised to see her two parents pick her up from camp. The first thing they do is hug her so tightly that she feels like they're about to break her in half. 

"Guys—the windpipes!" She chokes out.

Sally's crying, and Ara doesn't know what to say to make it better. She wishes she could ease the woman's mind, but lately, words of wisdom aren't coming to her in handfuls.

"S'alright," she mumbles, gently rubbing her mother's back.

"Hi, sweetheart," Paul pinches her cheek lightly. "Ready to go home?"

The trip back is quiet. Usually, Percy and her talk, and their parents listen. Today, all she does is stare out the window while her dad tells her about the school she'll attend next year.

It's hard to come to terms with how weary she is. Life is not simple and she's barely halfway through ninth grade. Things change, you fall for people when you least expect it, and then you build an entire life around... What? The idea that nothing will vary but it won't feel the same way twice?

Sally goes directly to their apartment to tidy up the kids' room before Ara gets there, and Paul asks if Ara can check the car before going up. She feels there's more to this than just a regular check-up, but she stays either way.

The girl opens the trunk and takes a look. "What's wrong with it?"

"The breaks are stiff. No cushion."

Ara stares blankly at her dad. "Cushion?"

"When the car stops it screeches," he rephrases.

"Which side?" Paul points to the left. Ara glances at the tire, then shrugs. "Could be the brake pads or the cylinder thingy."

"You can fix it?"

"'Course I can. I'll take a better look tomorrow," she gives him a brief smile. "Is that it?"

Paul steps forward and places a gentle hand on her shoulder. "I know you like helping, but here you are our daughter and nothing else. Understand?" Ara nods. "Good. How've you been?"

"Well... I guess I could be better." 

Ara tries to be strong, but she cries as soon as she locks eyes with her father. Paul is the only person she feels is safe to cry to. Sally needs her to be calm, the camp needs her to be brave. But Paul? He just wants her to be his daughter.

They grew fond of each other fast, Chiron always felt more like a teacher and didn't fulfill the requirements to be a father figure. Ara used to think that she would never know what having a dad felt like, but when Paul entered the picture, everything changed.

They had been a beautiful family for a year and a half, and she'd loved every second. Now that Hera has stolen an important piece of them, Ara is angry and frustrated, and the worst part is that she doesn't feel allowed to be, part of her thinks it's her fault.

"We'll find him," Paul rubs her back. "It's only a matter of time, and time moves fast when you keep yourself busy."

Ara hiccups. "I-I don't want my mom to see me like this..."

"I think she needs to see you like this," he retorts. "She thinks you're bottling up your emotions."

"I just don't want her to think... that I'm not strong," the girl sobs.

"You're fourteen, Ara, you don't have to be strong all the time," he guides her into the building. "Let us worry for you."

Tomorrow will be my fourteenth birthday, and today is the first time I'll be a real player in Capture the Flag. Rest assured that I'm planning to win. There's a problem, though, Percy and all of my friends from the Hephaestus cabin are playing against me.

"Hey, Connor," I approach trying to look tough. "Hope your loyalty isn't compromised..."

"What do you mean, Jackson?"

"Lily plays opposite tonight," I raise my eyebrows.

He looks a little worried, maybe he thinks I'm charmspeaking him. I wouldn't do that, but I do think it's fun that he thinks that. "Don't know what you're talking about."

Travis walks past us. "She's talking about your fat crush on Saggio..." 

Connor laughs nervously, his skin glows silver. "That's crazy!"

"Listen, we all know it. Except for Lily. Maybe."

"Don't worry, Birdy," Travis walks past us again. "I'll keep an eye on him. And you."

I snort. "Good luck."

After dinner, Sally enters Ara's bedroom and sits on her bed. "Would you like a bedtime story?"

Ara fidgets with her blanket. "Do I really have to go back to school?"

The woman sighs and rubs Ara's leg over the blanket. "We should be together."

"What if that puts you in danger?"

"Ara, I love you as much as I love Percy, and as your mother, I want you around no matter what."

"But the camp—"

"You can go on the weekends. But you need to attend school, and you need your parents. Chiron agreed."

"Chiron wants me out of camp because of the stupid prophecy," the girl blushes at her own outburst. "Sorry."

Sally continues in a calm manner. "Well, that's all the more reason. I want to spend as much time with my daughter before her untimely demise."

"That's not funny, Mom," Ara makes a face.

"You know what's funny," the woman gives her a playful look. "I don't think I ever heard you ramble about a boy like you did tonight."

Ara groans, falling back on her pillow. "Mooom..." 

"It was like the time you found that bronze dragon, and all you wanted was to—"

"He's called Festus now," Ara informs her. "It means Happy. Leo named him—he also named my lion Pollo. Leo thinks it's funny. He's weird..."

"You like that he's weird?" Sally smiles knowingly.

"A little," Ara blushes. "Don't tell dad."

"He's just sorry that you're no longer a little girl..."

"Well, if it makes him feel better, I decided not to pursue Leo," she replies.

Sally frowns. "Why?"

"Mom, it would be so much work. I don't have time to—"

"Are you marrying him?" Sally raises a brow.

"What? No, of course not!" Ara exclaims.

The woman chuckles. "Dating is not rocket science, Ara. You should try to have fun with it."

Ara stares at her mother. "Like it's a themed park?"

Sally eyes her with worry. "How long has it been since you did normal teenage things?"

The girl shrugs. "I went to the mall a few days ago..."

"The one where you found the lion?" Her mother asks pointedly.

"Okay, fine. I've never had a 'normal teenage experience'. Bit impossible to achieve being who I am."

"Promise me you'll find ways to have a good time, at least," Sally puts a strand of hair behind Ara's ear. "Don't feel pressure to do anything, all I'm saying is, you're safe in the mortal world. Try to enjoy it."

To be honest, Ara's not sure she remembers how to enjoy life.

She believes she's safe here, though. Even now that things got hard, her parents don't blame her for what's happening. She loves them and she wants to be a good daughter, so she's willing to let go of most of her guilt and try to be happy for them.

Yet... she can't stop feeling uneasy. Nothing has felt right ever since she turned fourteen.

Beckendorf made a special armor for his group that works like a chameleon's skin. Silena and Annabeth asked me and Lily to find them.

"Here!" My friend seizes me by the back of my armor, almost choking me. We're a good team, Lily and I.

Luckily for us, the boys didn't hear me dying, they were too focused on the dangers ahead. 

"Myrmekes," Percy mutters.

"Holy Hephaestus!" I stand up from behind the bushes. 

Both boys jump in alarm, Percy knows right away what I'm thinking. "Don't get any closer!" He and Lily say at the same time, both scowling.

"Look at it!" I exclaim in disbelief.

The thing is the size of a refrigerator, all gold with strange ridges on the sides and a bunch of wires sticking out at the bottom. The ants turn it over: It's an automaton's head. I gasp and try to walk towards it, but Percy pulls me back. 

"Easy, Dr. Frankenstein!"

"A head..." I say in awe. "A dragon's head!"

"It's a sign from Hephaestus," Beckendorf agrees in astonishment. "We have to stop them."

"What? Why?"

Before we can do anything, Silena and Annabeth stop us. Beckendorf sneaks away when they get distracted, and the Myrmekes get him. See, if I had gone after the head, this wouldn't have happened, but no one listens to the little girl.

To save our friend, I pull out the metal detector I built a summer ago (Percy and Lily look at me as if I'd planned this from the start) and turn it on. The thing goes crazy right away, there's a huge trail of mud on the side of the hill, so it's easy. We find the rest of the body in less than ten minutes. 

My friends help me get the dragon's head down, and Annabeth says she's not ready to try this out, so Percy replies something pretty cheesy.

"Get out of the way!" I scoff, squeezing between them. Gods! Falling in love distracts people from what's important. 

Annabeth asks Silena for her dagger and opens the dragon's panel on the back of its head. 

"Well, those who don't know anything about machines, step aside," I kneel next to the automaton's neck, eager to put it together. "Hello, baby! Are you ready to come back to life?"

"Ara..." Lily crouches beside me. "Keep in mind that this thing's unstable, okay?"

"It's a machine," I roll my eyes. "Just needs an adjustment and it'll be good as new..."

"There's only enough time to activate it," Percy reminds me.

"Okay, well, you guys are being super helpful," I reply sarcastically. "Hephaestus wanted Beck to find this. We're safe."

I take off my helmet and study the loose wires. Annabeth leans down next to me and helps me where she can. We work together to reattach the head, and our hands end up greasy and bruised.

"It's done?" Lily asks.

I share a look with Annabeth and nod. "Think so."

Percy asks how to turn it on and Annabeth and I point at the two large rubies. Its eyes have to be turned clockwise. My brother makes a couple of sarcastic comments that I prefer to ignore.

"Everyone take cover," without further ado, I turn its eyes.

I watch as the machine comes back to life. The best thing ever created in camp is in front of me, and I finally understand what Hephaestus means when he says that it's possible to build perfect things.

The earth shakes as the dragon gets up, bathing us in the dirt. As a way of celebration, it shoots a column of flames straight into the sky. "Fire!" I exclaim delightedly.

"Well," Percy stammers. "It worked."

The dragon looks at him and comes to sniff us. I'm beyond happy, but my brother looks terrified. I see him grab his sword and I spring into action. "Hello! Hey, cutie!" The creature watches me closely. "Listen, there's a son of Hephaestus in trouble!" The dragon tenses and waits for instructions. I look at the others smiling. "See? He'll help."

"How do you know that?" Silena asks unconvinced.

"I don't!"

"Perfect," Lily groans. "We're letting the crazy one lead the mission. Beckendorf is so lucky..."

We guide the dragon to the ant nest, but I refuse to leave it alone. 

"Ara, stop being so frustrating!" Percy snaps at me.

"I don't want it to get damaged!" I complain.

"I'll stay with her!" Lily offers. "If things get hard I'll drag her ass away from the forest—Go!"

Maybe it's because she's Annabeth's sister, but Percy feels comfortable leaving me in Lily's care, except maybe when it comes to training. Though he can't deny that all the muscle and height I've gained it's thanks to her and Michael.

"Our parents will kill me if you die, so don't!" Percy warns me. 

"Mike's going to kill us..." Lily says grumpily.

We spend the next twenty minutes decapitating Myrmekes (my sword is really good at it) and helping the dragon up the hill. It's a miracle we don't get splashed with their acid.

"You had to obsess over the wild dragon!" My friend yells from behind me. "I'll need a nap after this..."

"You can sleep during my birthday if you like!" If we survive.

After the dragon tears down the roof of the nest and drags our friends out, what I was fearing starts to happen: the dragon melts with the acid the creatures are throwing at it. 

Beckendorf yells at us to get away from it, I do it only because I trust he'll save it. When we're out of reach, he yells a command and lightning shoots out of the automaton, electrocuting the ants around it.

Beckendorf tells me it was a bad idea to activate it and insists that it's too unstable. I'm forced to accept that maybe he's right once the dragon charges at us. I follow Beckendorf to the top of a small cliff and watch the automaton, its behavior feels strange. 

What if it's following us because he's waiting for instruction? Suddenly, to me it looks like a puppy following its owner, excited to play. "Beck..." I start, but he doesn't want to listen.

"Now!" Exclaims my friend, and he pushes me so we land together on the dragon's back.

"Wait!" I urge him. "It doesn't want to hurt us!"

"He tried to toast your brother's face!"

"He's energetic!" I insist. "Can't you feel it?"

Beckendorf seems to understand what I'm talking about, but he still rejects my idea. "It's too unstable, Ara."

"But—"

"We'll come back for him," he promises. "For now, it's better to deactivate it."

I really don't want to, but I trust Beckendorf, he would never lie to me, so I give in. "Ugh!" I yank open the panel. "You do it!"

Beckendorf rips out the cables from inside the dragon's head and I try not to feel guilty as the dragon's eyes turn off and it freezes up in place.

I tell myself it'll be okay. Beck promised we'll come back soon.

Next Chapter ->

Taglist.

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[underforeversgrace]

shatter my soul (I don't want it anymore)

DannyMay 2023 Day 4: Fractal

title: shatter my soul (I don't want it anymore)

words: 1160

Complete

Warnings: Major Character Death, Implied Violence

~~~

In that moment, Danny felt like he’d been torn apart molecule by molecule, that his family had finally made good on their threats. 

As sick as it was, he thinks he’d prefer that to real life right now. He’d rather be under his mother’s scalpel and his father’s saw.

Because then that meant they were here. They lived. And he’d suffer a thousand times to make sure his family and friends lived, to bring them back. He’d go back in the portal and die again and again if it saved the people he loved.

But as he knelt in front of the ruins of the Nasty Burger, as he remembered the blast and the smell of singed hair and flesh, he knew it was impossible, a wish even Desiree couldn’t grant. Even she couldn’t bring back the dead.

Danny heard the sounds of the fire department, of the police, but they sounded so far away, his head stuffed so full of cotton everything was dull to his ears. He vaguely acknowledged when someone helped him stand and looked him over for injuries.

Later, they told him what he already knew. His family and his friends, lost in a freak accident. They asked him if he had any family, anywhere he could go.

He didn’t remember asking for Vlad, but he knew he did. Alicia couldn’t understand, would never understand.

Vlad handled funeral arrangements. He managed to be a decent person the whole time, actually appearing somber at the situation. He never made a quip about Jack or if he did, he didn’t do it in Danny’s earshot. Danny would never forget the conversation, though, with the funeral home director.

There were no bodies for any of his family, after all. They didn’t need a coffin.

They’d been blown into as many pieces as Danny’s soul had been.

~~~~~~

Time slipped and swerved around him, stagnant as he was. The pain was awful, it was all he ever felt. He began venturing into the Zone on his own, now the one seeking a fight instead of the one having to defend against an onslaught he had done nothing to deserve. He hoped he would lose a battle. That Skulker would slice too deep. That Technus would electrocute him to death. That one would be ironic, wouldn’t it? Killed twice by pure energy.

Vlad tried, he really did. Stopped calling him Daniel, son, little badger. He was more concerned with trying to get Danny to eat, with having to patch up the wounds Danny let freely bleed because the child simply didn’t care.

Weeks passed like this. Danny had never wished so fiercely to be weaker than he was. His ghostly Need to exist prevented him from throwing fights - against himself or anyone else. But all he wanted was peace. He wanted freedom from the agony in his chest, from the pit that kept gnawing deeper into his stomach, the fracture in his very being that just grew with every day.

He wanted his sister, his mom, his dad.

The girl he thought he’d spend forever with and the boy he expected to be forever at his side.

He wanted them more than anything. But he couldn’t have them ever again.

They’d been blown into as many pieces as Danny’s soul had been.

~~~~~~

It was a last ditch effort. He wasn’t sure who came up with it - him or Vlad. Who decided to try to separate him from his pain - to lock the agony away in a deep hole that rivaled Pariah Dark’s. But Danny simply didn’t care anymore. He didn’t have the strength. As strong as people thought he was, he wasn’t. He was just a tired orphan who dreamt of his loved one’s death every night, who had not slept longer than an hour in a month.

Danny didn’t know how this was going to work and he didn’t care. There was no existence more painful than what he currently suffered. Maybe he’d finally have one peace and quiet, a reprieve from the demons in his mind that spoke with his parents’ voices. It was only their voices, never the other three. Probably because even now, he couldn’t imagine any of them saying these words to him.

But his parents had said plenty and enough of it sounded like what the monsters in his head spoke that it grew harder to ignore. That he was to blame. That if he had just died properly, they’d still be alive. That if he hadn’t been such a useless child playing hero, maybe he could’ve gotten to them in time, gotten them to safety.

Even now, his mother’s last words to him echoed in his head cruelly. “The people will cheer when I get you on that table!”

It wasn’t any worse than anything else she’d said. But that was the last thing he’d ever heard from her.

He couldn’t remember his father’s last words to him. He didn’t know if that was better or worse - that he couldn’t remember his father damning him again or that he had paid so little attention to them before they died. Before they’d been buried in an urn. The reminder of what had happened.

They’d been blown into as many pieces as Danny’s soul had been.

~~~~~~

Power.

Pure, intoxicating power. As he awoke, the feeling of knives in his chest, power was all he knew. And he found he didn’t mind that. It was better than whatever he had left behind. He couldn’t remember just then what exactly he’d felt before. But now he felt perfect and he never wanted to feel anything less again.

He laughed, eyeing the man in front of him with a deranged grin on his face. This man had power, though he couldn’t remember who this man was. But he wanted that power, he craved it like a drug.

The knives that he’d awoken to in his chest worked just as well ripping the other ghost from its fleshy prison before he absorbed it into himself, disintegrating the consciousness in it to replace with his own.

He needed to hurt this man. He needed to prove he had the power.

A whimper behind him got his attention and he snarled as he turned, seeing a lanky teenager with black hair and fear in his blue eyes shaking with terror against the wall.

At his human face, Dan remembered. He remembered what he’d lost. Anger replaced where hurt used to be within him. This was that stupid child’s fault. And he needed to pay. He almost realized it was his mind fracturing into a thousand pieces as he did it, though it wasn’t unpleasant. He threw away all the shards with pain in them. As far as his old human body, though…

Dan made sure it hurt, not the quick, painless death everyone he loved had suffered.

Danny was ripped into as many pieces as his family and friends had been blown into.

[msfbgraves]

Whenever you get time, I’d be interested in seeing something between Terry and Daniel following Sam confronting her Father about what exactly happened “that night” with him and Mama, and Terry going into deadly, ice-cold Alpha mode with her.

It was such a loaded conversation, and her seeing her sweet Mama in shock and unable to answer her just makes it even more disturbing.

Daniel probably knows or suspects that Sam asked Terry, and it makes me wonder what private time between them looked like following this.

If it was tense or bitter or pained or reproachful. I wonder if they tried to act like nothing happened, or if they alluded to it in conversation. Or maybe it was simple, like Terry taking Daniel in his arms, or Daniel going to him, and them conversing with each other without words.

Or maybe they just avoid each other for the rest of the evening and night, the band-aid over this wound peeled open for a bit. Again.

"You didn't have to be so hard on her."

They've not spoken a word about this all day. They didn't have to.

Terry trails two fingers through the smooth black hair tucked under his armpit, traces them over his omega's soft skin.

"I wasn't, mo cuishle."

A snort, though he doesn't open his eyes. "She was white as a sheet."

"Hmm." Terry's thoughts swerve back to the determined face of his eldest. "Trust me. Any other Alpha would have had her pistol whipped."

He bristles, offended, protective. "There's no need to hurt her!"

He holds Daniel a little more tightly against his side. "I told you, I didn't. I simply gave her a very fair warning."

He scoffs. "About what?"

"Coming between an Alpha and his mate."

Now Daniel pushes himself up. "She was trying to protect me."

Terry frowns, lifts his chin. "From what?"

Daniel lowers his eyes. "She thought I was hurt."

Terry cocks his head. "Are you, love? Did you tell her that?"

He looks up at him, gives a wry smile. "No. Per Dio! But she's getting quite forceful, our girl."

"Yes." He sits up himself. "And it stops now."

Daniel blinks at him. "She's our puppy, Terry. I keep telling you, she doesn't work for you."

"Yet." It's a sore point, but they'll have to discuss it some day. "Listen, Danny," he says. "I don't expect you to understand this, but I did it because I love her." He protests, but Terry shakes his head. "This took guts, and I respect that," he says. "But a young Alpha without an omega can forget what is, and isn't, their turf, and if she goes around sticking her nose into other people's business -"

"Then it's my fault." His voice is almost toneless. "I went into their room."

"To check on them," Terry says, the memory rising like bile in his throat.

"No," Daniel says.

"That's not what this is!" Terry says, a little more forcefully than he wants. Won't this cursed night ever die? "Danny, please. She's a young Alpha who needs something to fight. Yasmin will have an episode like this soon enough. Eli hasn't stopped since kindergarten."

"We left them, Terry." His face is contorted with guilt. "Sam is a very perceptive pup, she knew what was going on..."

"She is a fourteen year old girl who disobeyed her mother, and I won't have that, Daniel!"

He looks away, shakes his head. "She did not...!"

He grabs his chin. "She wanted more than she got from you, my darling," he says, "and instead of relenting she came to me. It was willful, foolish, and unacceptable, and I let her know." A short silence. "That's it!"

That pained, hollow grimace. "I should never have -"

He grabs him. "Please, my love. It's done. It's done!"

There's something desperate in his tone even he can't deny.

"You need to pick Sam up tomorrow," Daniel says, when they've held each other for some time. "Do something fun, let her pick the place. If she wants to bring friends you do."

He scoffs. "I'm not going to reward -"

"It's not a reward, it's an olive branch," Daniel says, a hard edge in his voice. "To remind her that she has a Daddy who loves her. Who wants her to feel safe."

He bristles again: "Of course I do!"

"Then show me," his mate says. "Show me, Sir. You owe me that."

His breath feels like fire in his throat, but for once he bows his head.

"Thank you," Daniel whispers, letting out a very deep sigh. "Thank you, Sir."

[brewing-mischief]

Damien who has 100% bonded with Dan over murder and violence and seeing the dark side of life while also expected to act like normal teenagers when they are NOT are having a blast.

Menwhile Bruce/Dick/Jason/Tim are all INCREDIBLY concerned that Danny the 22 yearold librarian has a 5 and 14 year old kids he is biologically related too and who they call Dad. Like they meet Jazz while she was in a rush one time and asked if Dani and Dan were her siblings too and she said no, they're Danny's kids. Gotta go bye! And didnt think about the interaction ever again while Bruce/the older kids are getting more and more concerned.

Cause looking at those numbers Danny was NOT at the age of concent when the two of them were conceived. The Batfam is now desperately trying to secretly hijack their DNA to run tests and get child support for him cause Danny keeps making comments that he's on his own and he WON'T take the money Bruce keeps trying to give him! Even when he gives it anonymously, Danny knows its him and returns it!

So fine. If he wont take Bruce's money, Bruce is gonna make sure SOMEONE pays. Specifically whoever dumped these kids on him.

Damien is unfazed by all of this, 100% taking the "I'm a clone" explanation from Dani and a "I'm him from another timeline that will now never occur" from Dan as he himself (Damien) is a test-tube baby from a illuminati assassin league with a father that started the vigilante job.

Why dont Bruce/Dick/Jason/Tim take the clone theory?

1. Kids say stupid stuff all the time. Especially when playing imagination games. And older siblings will play along at times.

2. Hes just some guy. He's not like them, who are tied up with supervillains and underground courts. Why would someone clone him?

3. Cloning is EXPENSIVE (have you seen superboy's catmas set-up??) Damien, do you really think one man could just clone somebody? You need a whole team of scientists honey. AND even Superboy needed 2 doners. It's not like a human clone can be made from just ONE peice of DNA

The funniest thing is that the D-team is not even hidding it. Like yeah they're not gonna straight up tell strangers hey here's my life story, but if you ask and they trust you sure here's the truth. Sometimes they just say it anyway cause Danny is so tired and he knows no one believes him. Hes spent most of his term years lying about NOT being a half-ghost hero. Mabye hes just done telling lies

Bruce, observing Dani at the library while picking up Damian - "so...tell me, Mr. Nightingale is the mother in the picture?"

Danny - "Nah, Dani there was cloned from me when I was fourteen. She use to be a lot bigger but her ecto-signiture wacked out when we came here so now shes small."

Bruce Desperately trying to de code Danny's trama-truth for what actually happened. - "I see"

Dan, leaning back in his chair completely nonchalant-" I'm from another timeline where I murder more than half of humanity due to my lack of a soul, that I killed with my bear hands because it kept whining about our dead family."

Bruce, more concerned. Beliving this is a teen's attempt cope with real trama by villianizing himself though jokes - "do you have you're soul back now?"

Dan nearly falling off the chair and has to catch himself - "uh...I...dont know..."

Dan looks panicked at Danny who is now also looking suprised. Neither know. Cause hes 14. And 14 was when Dan killed himself and fused with Plasmius and wow now they have a lot of questions as to what this reset actually did. Like hes not as murderous as before but wow, um ok but like-

Danny, quickly showing the kids and Bruce out to avoid them seeing Dan freak out- "well it was so nice to meet you Mr. Wayne, Damien remember to return that library book you have due tomorrow and yes, John I will bring snacks tomorrow for the book club. Thanks so much yall! Bye!"

Bruce, convinced now more than ever of all the bad things the Nightingale family had to face before this and if they are still in danger. This is the first civillian friend Damien has ever had and by golly is he going to protect them

Prof. Danny Nightingale

Danny honestly has no idea how he became a science professor to a bunch of kids in Gotham University where he works as a librarian...

Danny Nightingale is a 22 year old librarian who has been working at Gotham University for nearly 2 months now. he is currently raising a 5 year old de-aged (or not up to you) Dani, who prefers to be called that in order to start confusion and chaos, and a re-formed 14 year old Dan (he's stuck in a kids body or aging up slowly is up to you) who is attending Gotham U (maybe he's in the same class as Damian and they bond about stabbing??)

And even though Danny's just a librarian but after helping some kids with their science homework and protecting them in a rouge attacks, he's practically formed a club for any kid who needs help with anything, but mostly science and mental stability, Danny should really thank Jazz for all those lectures...

tag me if this gets used cuz I wanna read!!

[sakuraswordly]

Sonic: !!!!!!! Lelouch!

Kujaku: What?!

Lelouch: Nice hiding surprise attack from other people, you scrum!

Kujaku: "Scrum" huh? Lelouch vi Britannia, the King of the United Kingdom.

Lelouch: I am the Eleventh Prince of the Holy Britannian Empire and the son of the 98th Emperor of Britannia, Charles zi Britannia. 

Kujaku: You're only a traitor to your own people and you still tried to stop me?

Lelouch: If you doing anything or your next plan, this high technology by the Fenton family can stuck you even if you're a god of this world.

Kujaku: I am the god of the darkness of all the world, Kujaku. Or Shiva, the Lord of Destruction who with full of power. I am the father of the Ganesh. Siva is the great god of the universe in Tri Murati or 3 the supreme god of Brahman-Hindu (Brahma Vishnu). I gave a magical blessing to the person to do good deeds. And adhere to morality If anyone behaves dedicated to me and desires any magical things I will give that blessing. But once I had fulfilled my wish. The next day, if wrong from goodness That person will cause disaster in life. I, Shiva Thep will immediately destroy!!

Lelouch: God huh? That was entirely a lie! You're nothing more than a scrum king who takes people's will and future!

Kujaku: Not different from you who betrayed your family and killed your own father and mother!

Lelouch: Yes I did, but for this justice to this world! You're the one who is responsible for making this world into chaos! You're the real evil and enemy of this world! You can't change the world without getting your hands dirty. That's why I defeat evil, I must become a greater evil! Even I betrayed this world.....even I lost friendship, family, or a lover!

Kujaku: Humph! I withdrew then....! Sonic the Hedgehog, next time we will meet again, I will do anything to capture you. So long!

*whoosh*

Lelouch: Ugh! He got me....!

Sonic: Lelouch!

*Collpase* *vssshh* *raining*

Punch: Danny............I will.........take my hate.....for this world.......!! I won't forgive this..........!!

*vssshh* *raining*

Sonic: When did you know.....about Kujaku.......

Lelouch: After Syaoran's group left, I spy on Kujaku's minion.....I knew who he was......he was responsible for everything....!! Even he was the one who was responsible for my grandfather and grandmother's life! He made my father and my mother become nothing but a selfish person........King Magnifico became a victim because of him......even myself......

Sonic: Lelouch.......don't worry....there's still time........I still healing--

Lelouch: I had a friend....my very precious friend.....Shirley......She was always by my side. She was a symbol of a peaceful world. There were times when I felt lonely, but that was because she was someone I could truly open up to. She was someone he could be myself with. There is no replacement for her. All I could do was to watch her voice and figure disappear before my eyes. Geass takes away lives. Taking away someone important to me. I had the absolute power of Geass, and I was a great villain who had access to organizations, military power, power, and eventually even the world. But I can't get small human happiness - friendship, family, or a lover. I have access to everything else. But in the end, I get friendship and a family.

Sonic: Why this isn't working?! Kujaku intent to use this to kill me?! Lelouch....!! You knew you would be in danger! Why are you protecting me?!

Lelouch: Because Sonic................because.....................

*Flashback*

Sonic: If strength is justice, then is powerlessness a crime? For me, I don't believe that powerlessness is meaningless. I once...felt like that in prison.

Lelouch: Sonic. Then tell me, if the world is in chaos, will you sacrifice or be prepared to be killed?

Sonic: .................of course. "A knight never flees his foe", right?

Lelouch: As I expect, you care for this world just like me. You don't care if you become evil in this world or play a role as the villain. Your loyalty is commendable. Because to defeat evil, I must become a greater evil.

Sonic: It was never about chivalry or loyalty for me. I've just got to do what I've got to do, that's all.

Lelouch: That's why you chose hate, Sonic.

Sonic: Their hatred will be focused here as history so that everyone will move towards to the future. That's why I never see you as an enemy or pain in my eyes.

Lelouch: (This is what it is called equal in your ideal.)

Sonic: We're right to feel hate. But Artorius never thought like that. What do you think about "The uglinesses of the human soul are suppressed"?

Lelouch: ...................!

Sonic: But Syaoran and his friends never thought like that.....that's why we join with Velvet's ideal even though she hates and take revenge for her brother's death. You should say..."me". He stole humanity's rudder and he commanded his people to say who lived and who died.

Lelouch: That is--

Sonic: Not different from yours doing. You were forcing your own people to be. That's despicable. Using your power of Geass, which bends people's minds and tramples on their dignity.

Lelouch: (I see....so Syaoran.....you still never leave this path......you still continue as leader.....Syaoran....you and Sonic....your friendship and Unbreakable Bond are splendid...and I finally found your real answer as to why you still can walk...because of him.....Sonic)As Syaoran's friend I will help you then.

Sonic: You will?

Lelouch: And also you're Punch's best friend too right? I'm still surprised how much you can read people's hearts without the power of Geass or as a human.(That's why Sonic.....you should be careful to not turn into one.....your talent.... your existence is dangerous......because you are Syaoran his...........)

*End of flashback*

Lelouch: Because you are Syaoran's precious one that needs to be protected.......

Sonic: .................!!

Lelouch: I seemed to have the whole world in my hands.....I did it..... seemed to have everything..........except for the little normal happiness............like friendship, family, or a lover..........in exchange for my life. Because of that.....Because Shirley was gone...Because of my sins......but now....I know.....it's not because of my curse power......or Shirley......or my selfishness..... but because of you......Sonic.

Sonic: ..............what.....? Bu----But we hadn't met!

Lelouch: No we did meet.....even just a short time....., It is you isn't it.....Punch!

Sonic: !!!!!!!!!

Lelouch: You lied to me that you're Punch's brother but now you're here, Punch. You really are.....!!

Sonic: .....................

Lelouch: There was something I wanted to tell you as a friend........without your help......maybe I can't be the king that I am today........I finally know why I was born to be a king in this cruel world....not because of these....but because of you, Punch! I thought this was maybe the end for me....without having done a single thing in my life.......but Punch......after you and Danny came to join me and save this world together....because of your maday and ambition, world war ended.....

Sonic: ...........Lelouch!!

Lelouch: Now.....my task and my sins are done.....I'm glad that I can meet you......I'm glad that what I have done until now is for you too.......C.C..........I'm sorry for leaving you........

*Some elsewhere*

Syaoran: C.C......?

C.C.: Lelouch........!

Sakura: ..............!!

C.C.: He was killed.......

Syaoran: ..................!!!!!

*Some elsewhere*

Punch: ......................!! Lelouch...............!! He's dead....!! No........I lost both Danny and Lelouch in one place.......?!

*Some elsewhere*

Yuri: Brother......he's dead......

*Go back*

Sonic: (I've seen it. I've seen it over and over.........human history is one of opposition...this is what you see and hate, right, Shadow? People....the world....despite it all, they won't be what we want them to be.......I know that so well......even so......)Kujaku........as I expect.....I will kill you......I must kill you.......as my hate....as this path....!! The world that everyone desires. The future that many lives have chosen......

*vssshh* *raining*

Sonic will be the one who closes that tragic path for Lelouch. But it’s too late to save Lelouch. Lelouch will make Sonic realize how painful as path of the king who ruled around the world in the future.

.

.

.

.

Punch: Sonic...I choose....to side with darkness and take my revenge path. 

Sonic:.........I see....

Punch: This doesn't surprise you, Sonic?

Sonic: Not at all. I knew that was the only choice you could make.

Punch: So you see Sonic. I am not a kind person from the beginning...................I will stand over you all. That’s why I live, to slay everyone who stand in my way...So now....Sonic...you're standing in my way!

Sonic: I know. I'm ready. To fight you, Punch. Not because I save you but to save myself as well. I'm not a kind person either.

[splinteredhq]

**CHARACTER NAME:** Andromeda Tonks - Andy/Dromeda

**CHARACTER FACECLAIM:** margaret qually or  Danny Devito im not picky

**CHARACTER AGE/DOB:** October 5, 1994; 29

**CHARACTER PRONOUNS/GENDER IDENTITY/SEXUALITY ETC:** She/Her/Hers;  

**OC OR CANON:** Canon 

**CHARACTER PROFESSION IF RELEVANT:** Portrait Painter/Freelance Charm Worker

**SCHOOL ATTENDED & HOUSE IF RELEVANT:** Hogwarts/Slytherins

**ALIGNMENT (the order/death eaters/etc) + GENERAL OPINIONS ON THE WAR/THEIR SIDE:** The ORder of the Phoenix, but more as a non-field member since they do have Dora/a whole ass child to be looking out for. She occasionally assists Ted in his potion making or helps with some charmed objects. 

Voldy bad and the Black’s (minus Sirius Black III) are dead to her.

**CHARACTER BIOGRAPHY:**

very brief mentions of child abuse

The Noble House of Black sucks ass.

So, Andromeda is the middle sibling who never quite drank the Pureblood Kool-aid from the beginning. Sure, when she was younger (see around 6-9 age range wise), she had the sense of superiority, and even the pride from being a part of such a noble house. Hell, even the mudblood word left her mouth once or twice… It’s funny how one single moment can change everything.

It was an asinine pureblood party. One where she would much rather be hiding in her room, feigning a stomach ache and where the house elves had spent nearly an hour taming her curtly brown hair and begging her to put on pinchy shoes her mother wanted to wear. She was _10_, one year before she got her Hogwarts Letter, and she wanted something that wasn’t disgustingly fancy to eat. 

She slid away from her parents and her sisters, planning to sneak down the kitchens of the manor to see if they had any sweets, when she heard a ruckus. This wasn’t the Black manor, so she knew it wasn’t polite to eavesdrop, but the sound of a slap that got her attention.

The nice thing about being a little girl is it’s easy to slip by and see things you’re  not supposed to. The oldest, and only, Selwyn son - Lysander -  was with his father, the kid holding his cheek. He wasn’t really a kid, just turned 20, and was supposed to “have a rotten head on his shoulders”, according to her mother. He had slipped Andromeda and Narcissa a couple of chocolate frogs a few years back, so Andromeda didn’t really understand what that meant They’re arguing, speaking low and quiet, and Andromeda didn’t understand everything, but Lysander pretty firmly said that he didn’t give a flying fuck if his teacher was a muggleborn alchemist  - among other insults relating to Mr. Selwyn’s considerably large mustache and forehead - and that the entire pureblood line were going to die out because of inbreeding and misplaced, prideful intolerance. 

The fight got worse, and when the wands were drawn, Andromeda accidentally on purpose pushed over a pile of dishes. They stared at her. She stared at them. And then she ran away.

When Andromeda asked her mother about it the next day, what Lysander meant, she had slapped herself, and sent up to her room without supper. It didn’t change everything for her, but as the year went on, and Lysander was supposedly disowned for being a blood traitor, something never really sat right with her.

And then she started Hogwarts, was sorted into slytherin, and everything her parents told her was a _lie_. Imagine her surprise when Muggleborns were actually able to do magic - some of them, including a certain Edward Tonks, were even better than her in subjects like herbology and potions. 

Andromeda wished she could be like the true middle sibling, where everyone just ignored her… But the truth was she had to work twice as hard to meet her parents expectations. With grades and everything else… It was almost suffocating.Too many classes, too many people, too much _everything_ - and a lot of the other slytherin’s ran around the joint acting like they had time to be cruel when half the other muggleborns could run magic circles around them - literally. It was exhausting.

And then _Ted_. She hated him at first, but she hated the way her so-called friends acted towards him even more. More than once, she cut them off with sharp jabs, never quite… _defending_ Ted directly, at least not at first, but forcing them all to start focusing back on their school work. 

Hate quickly turned into tolerance, especially as they had a lot of classes together - ones she had to study very hard to be actually good at. And then he just had to go and punch her sister’s boyfriend in the face -- rightfully so, honestly, Andromeda had been considering punching Lucius Malfoy in the face for even looking at her the wrong way, but Ted didn’t understand what kind of retaliation that sort of thing would cause. What was the point in having moral if you were just going to be miserable later?

She was across the charms classroom when he was jinxed, so she couldn’t say for sure it was Lucius Malfoy, but she made an educated guess. She waited for the dust to settle, before she stole poison oak from Slughorn’s stores (a potion ingredient he had imported from America) and rubbed it all over Malfoy’s bed sheets, clothes, and shoes.

The secret relationship her and Ted started was a bad idea. Her family would blast her right off the family tree and probably do worse to Ted and his parents - so Andromeda knew she should stop it before it got too deep, before she fell too hard… But it was impossible. They were impossible, and she did it anyway.

Andromeda’s tensions with her family grew, not because of that, but because of grades. Mind you, Andromeda’s grades weren’t even that bad. Nothing below an Acceptable, and her Owl’s had all been O’s and E’s, but it didn’t help that Andromeda’s attitude with her parents had grown disrespectful - which they wrongly attributed to teen angst and rebellion. They also didn’t appreciate how much time she spent drawing and painting, and practically refused to let her partake in any of it when she was at home -- she soon learned to stash her art supplies in the castle, to keep it safe. 

She graduated Hogwarts, and had a big decision to make. They planned a life together, something that felt like it was a fairytale - something that could never actually come to pass. How could it? With how the world was … and then, one Hogsmeade trip towards the end of the year, she walked past a shop: Pendragon Jewellers. She stopped, looking in the window at the displays -- Lysander Pendragon was a name she recognized from the King Arthur legends, the same ones her mother bitched about bastardizing Merlin. But he was supposed to be one of the greatest up and coming alchemists there were, and his shop, while newly open, had already made a supposed fortune. 

But the man behind the counter was unmistakably Lysander Selwyn, looking far older than he should have been for 28, with a scar on the left side of his face, cutting through his eyebrow and down the side of his cheek. They made eye contact briefly, his eyes glossing over her without real recognition, and she realized that maybe being disowned wasn’t the worst thing in the world. 

She told Narcissa first. That did not go well. 

Immediately after, she sent the letter. It was a long letter, sent on thick, expensive stationary with expensive ink. Andromeda Black disavowed the Black Family: her parents, and her sisters, saying she would no longer stand with a family that represented hatred and unearned pride. She did not mention Ted, because she did want to protect him for a time. 

Andromeda started her new life -- except it wasn’t really all that new, was it? She was still Andromeda Black… but now she was _disowned and disgraced_ Andromeda Black, the girlfriend of Ted Tonks, Muggleborn. She started her life as a painter, apprenticed under a nice half-blood who was impressed by her O in NEWT level Charms. She went on to do university part time to obtain a  higher education degree in charms/enchantments to become a magical portrait painter - which she does professionally for hire, as well as work on charms/enchantments on a freelance level.

Oh I guess i should mention the elephant in the room aka the baby

That happened when she was 19 and it was a wHOOPS. As you can imagine, Andromeda FREAKED OUT, but it ended up okay. She’s still anxious raising a daughter, especially in the war effort

Ted and Andromeda rarely fight over anything other than the cleanliness of the house and perhaps a few tense conversations over Andromeda being worried sick about the War, but things are GOOD. 

Andromeda didn’t get married to Ted until Nymphadora was about 4 years old. They only did it so Andromeda could get rid of the Black family name completely and because it was easier for when Dora started primary school.

Dora was a flower girl at the wedding it was adorable.

Sometimes, Andy assists Ted with his potion making - but only as an assistant/bitch (affectionate) who gathers and cuts the up the ingredients, rather than someone who brews. 

Considering making charmed weapons to use in battle in the war, but is unsure how to test something like that without killing someone and with a child in the house. Can and will develop this later.

[tourettesdog]

Something In-Between

AO3 Link

TW: character death (in that funky Danny Fenton way), injury, emetophobia, blood/ectoplasm.

Word count: 9704

Summary:

Danny walked into the portal alone. Fortunately, Jazz was there when he came out.

---

The Fenton household was strange, though it had its own sense of order. As much order as two ectobiologists could maintain, with two children nestled awkwardly between their work. Jack and Maddie Fenton spent most of their days down in their basement lab. They were married to their work almost as much as each other. Twenty years of research drove their hands and hearts. Each day promised another chance to make a new discovery in their field. 

Their children grew used to the cacophony of lab work. The banging of sheet metal, the whirr of drills, the crackle of blowtorches. They kept mostly upstairs or out of the house, avoiding the noise. Waiting for the moment their parents finished their work and returned to them.

It was an old song and dance, one the children learned from an early age. The eldest, Jazz, waited anxiously for each wave of their creativity. Whenever she caught that manic gleam in her mother’s eye that spoke of inspiration, she would step up to pick up the slack. Their parents hardly cared for themselves when enthralled with their work, let alone Jazz and her little brother, Danny.

Normally, those sparks of inspiration would burn brightly for a couple of weeks at most before either fizzling away in defeat, or culminating into success. Jazz and Danny knew not to expect that same pattern when their parents began construction of their life’s work: The Portal.

Those twenty years produced many smaller projects, but everything came second to the portal (everything). Weeks turned into months and each day of it saw more progress. A gaping maw in the earth, lined with metal and spilling wires. 

As the summer dragged on and their parents fell deeper and deeper into their work, Jazz and Danny waited. They waited through June, and July, and soon it was August. School would start in two week's time, and Danny looked forward to starting his first year of high school. He spent most of the summer avoiding the house, hanging out with his friends, Sam and Tucker. It was easy to forget about the portal over burgers and fries, or trips to the movies. They rotated houses for sleepovers– avoiding Danny’s when they could. 

Danny and Jazz were both home when their parents finished construction of the portal. The cheers that emitted from the basement practically shook the entire house. Jack ran upstairs before they could move, ushering both of them down to the lab.

It had been weeks since Danny went down there. What small measure of order the lab once held had gone. Tools and spare parts littered the space, strewn haphazardly across the stone floor. Danny picked his way cautiously across the minefield of spills and loose bolts. 

The portal yawned before him, a massive hexagonal tunnel through the basement wall. Danny couldn’t see very far into the tunnel. It lay cloaked in shadow, waiting.

Jack and Maddie stood side by side, facing their children with wide, unhinged grins. Their jumpsuits were dirty, stained with oil and grime. Dark bags lingered under their eyes, and Danny wondered if they had even slept the last two nights. Jack picked up a power cable, holding it high for all to see. 

“At long last, the Fenton Ghost Portal is complete. We’re about to make history!” he exclaimed, turning to view the portal with a reverent expression. 

The air felt charged with energy as he launched into a speech that went in one of Danny’s ears and out the other. Research, ghosts, dimensions– Danny found the portal far more interesting than anything his father had to say about it. He wanted to know what had absorbed his parents’ hearts and souls. He didn’t want to hear a speech– he wanted to see the thing for himself. To know if it was worth the time and energy they had put into it.

Eventually, Jack’s words tapered off expectantly. Danny waited with bated breath as he lifted the cables higher before slamming them together with more force than was necessary. 

For a moment, a green spark rippled through the center of the portal. It lit up the inner mechanisms, the light sharp and wavering. 

The light fizzled out as quickly as it came.

Jack’s arms fell to his sides, the cable slack in his grip. He and Maddie stared at the dark, empty portal. Listless.

“I don’t understand… it should have worked, Jack. Everything was perfect,” Maddie said, grabbing madly at her hair.

Jack just shook his head, utterly despondent. He dropped the cable to the ground and heaved a heavy sigh. 

Danny watched as all of the light drained from his parents’ eyes. They turned away from the machine and trudged back upstairs, hardly saying a word between them. 

Their parents never took failure well. They would wallow in the lows between unsuccessful projects, and Danny dreaded to see how long it would take them to recover from this particular defeat. 

Twenty years that amounted to a hole in the wall.

Danny stood before the dark portal, an empty feeling creeping into his chest. If any of his parents' insane machines could have worked, he prayed it would have been this one. He didn't know what they would do now. If they would return to the portal and try again, or let something else consume them.

Jazz slung an arm over Danny's shoulder, giving it a squeeze. 

"Maybe things will go back to normal now," Jazz said, without any certainty in her voice.

Danny mumbled an agreement as they followed their parents back upstairs.

His eyes lingered on the portal as they went.

Jack and Maddie didn't return to work on the portal. They wandered through the house, drifting aimlessly, not even looking at the basement door.

They might as well have been in mourning. A somber energy lingered in their every movement and word, as though a tombstone marked the laboratory. As though their work lay buried, dead and gone.

It didn’t surprise Jazz and Danny when their parents suddenly decided to go on a trip. They packed their bags the same day they announced it, before heading out the day after. A convention seemed like the perfect thing to lift their spirits, and truthfully Danny wasn't sorry to see them go. The atmosphere of the house brightened considerably without their sulking. 

The first day their parents were gone, Jazz went out with her friends. She paused at the door before she left, making sure that Danny wouldn’t miss her absence. He assured her that he was probably going to hang out with Sam and Tucker. Video games, the mall– they had little more than a week before school started and Danny planned to make the most of it. 

Jazz waved him goodbye, saying she’d be back in time to order pizza if he didn’t make plans with Sam and Tucker.

The moment the door shut, Danny called his friends. With his parents gone, it was a perfect weekend to have them over. They could have free range of the house, use the big living room television for video games, and they could do it all without any incessant racket from the lab.

Sam answered first, but Danny was quickly disappointed to learn that her parents had invited guests over and wanted Sam to stay and keep their daughter company. Tucker, too, was busy. His parents had decided to take him on an impulsive day trip out of the city as a last hurrah before the end of summer.

Just like that, Danny was alone with nothing to do. He sat on the couch, lost in his thoughts. A lazy day playing video games by himself wasn’t the worst thing in the world, but it dragged Danny’s mood down all the same. The house still felt cold and lifeless in the wake of the portal’s failure. His eyes flickered absently to the closed lab door.  He resented what lay beyond it. 

Without thinking much of it, Danny stood and opened the lab door. Everything downstairs looked the same as it had several days ago. The mess, the disorganization– the dark portal. Danny kept his eyes on the tunnel as he made his way down the stairs and over the mess on the floor.

He faced the portal head-on, craning his neck to look at the unlit light overhead. It looked finished– ready and waiting. Danny remembered the light that sparked within it, a single heartbeat that promised something more. 

For every failure his parents had, they had another success. Why did their most impressive work– the thing they poured more time and energy into than anything else– fail?

Glancing back around the lab, Danny’s eyes landed on the hazmat suits hung along the far wall. Most of them were teal and orange, though he recognized a white one tucked on the end. 

Danny grabbed it from the hook, rubbing his fingers over the material. His parents purchased the suit almost a year ago, when they entered the home stretch of their portal research. Danny remembered how happy his dad was, presenting Jazz and him with their own suits. He said that one day they would explore beyond the portal as a family, once they had conducted enough research to know what to expect. 

Danny wondered if a hazmat suit would even be enough to protect a person in a ghost dimension– the Ghost Zone, his parents called it. 

Though, looking at his baggy shirt, Danny supposed the hazmat would provide more coverage than that at least.

Glancing at the door, as though worried Jazz might come home and catch him in the act, Danny pulled the suit on. It fit a bit loosely, but he didn’t mind. Danny was used to wearing clothes that obscured his body shape.

Danny stared at the black gloves covering his hands, flexing his grip. The suit was comfortable, but Danny still couldn’t fathom how his parents wore them at all hours. 

There were a lot of things he didn’t understand about his parents.

Danny loved his mom and dad, but he didn’t get them. He didn’t understand how they poured themselves so fully into their ghost obsession. There wasn’t even any proof, as far as Danny could see, that they were right. In all the years his father ranted and raved about ghosts, Danny had never seen one. All they had to show was 'ectoplasm' and the strange properties that came with it.

He thought that maybe the portal would help him understand. That it would shed light on the enigmas that were Jack and Maddie Fenton. That it would, somehow, strip away years of feeling second fiddle to ideas and theories, of all things.

Yet the portal gave no answers. 

It drew Danny’s eye, the darkness deep and pressing. It consumed his thoughts, just as it had his parents’. Anger and frustration twisted in his belly like a knife. Danny grit his teeth and marched to stand before its maw.

Up close, Danny felt a draft through the tunnel. A quiet breath, borne from the dark. It sent a shiver down his spine, and for a moment Danny considered walking away.

Something kept him rooted to the spot, though Danny couldn’t say what. His eyes traced the metal lining of the portal, running over its circuits and bolts. It resembled many of his parents’ inventions, though magnified in scale. Danny wondered what could have gone wrong with the device, and if it was even fixable. For all he knew, the issue could be as impossible as a wayward theory, or as simple as a loose bolt. 

Danny found himself taking a step forward. He ran a hand along the machine’s wall, looking over the bolts, wondering if it could really be that simple. Maybe he could stumble upon the issue and be the one to fix it. 

Danny wasn’t surprised, however, when nothing stood out to him. Though his parents used strange scrap metal to complete most of their projects, they had gone above and beyond for the portal. It still had a certain style that spoke of their work, but the materials were clean, and each of the bolts flush. 

Sighing, Danny accepted that he might never know what went wrong with the portal. Unless his parents gutted the machine and returned to the project with fresh zeal, it might never see completion.

Hell, for all Danny knew, it was impossible anyway.

Danny stopped when the darkness grew too deep. He could see the dark shape of the archway around him, but none of the finer details. The draft seemed to grow, breathing down his neck.

He had seen enough.

Turning on his heel, Danny made to walk out of the tunnel. He barely managed a step before one of the thick wires snaking through the portal snagged his boot. 

Time seemed to slow as Danny pitched forwards, towards the wall of the tunnel. He stuck out his left hand to catch himself. 

Danny felt something give.

A gentle click sounded, echoing slightly in the tunnel. Danny sucked in a sharp breath– 

The world exploded around him.

A blinding flash of green stained Danny’s vision. A roaring, buzzing sound tore through the air. A shock ripped through his hand, along his arm, and found purchase in his very soul. It burned. Everything burned– his skin, his blood, his bones. He saw green, and black, and nothing all at once. An eternity passed, each second of it dragging through the agony that wracked his too-small frame. 

Someone was screaming, and it took Danny a lifetime to realize the sound came from his own scorched throat.

The burning, burning, burning dulled into an ache deeper than the ocean. The green stretched on just as far, an endless expanse of rolling, crashing waves that thrashed Danny upon unforgiving rocks. He knew nothing but that pain. He felt nothing but fear– the terrifying realization that he was slipping away, lost in that sea of green. 

Someone was still screaming. He couldn’t tell if it was him anymore.

Just as soon as the burning shock came, it faded away– with everything. The world itself seemed to sink beneath the green waves, and Danny felt something inside him drift along, embracing the current.

The last thing Danny remembered thinking– the only coherent thought he could muster through the chaos– was that he hoped Jazz would be okay without him. She had always protected him, guiding him away from the hazards within their own house. Bringing what small order she could to the chaos.

He squandered her efforts. 

Danny couldn't even protect himself.

A sound woke him. A word, called distantly. It echoed in his aching head, garbled and indistinct. 

He rolled onto his back, groaning as his muscles protested, achingly sore. He kept his eyes shut tight, feeling as though any visual stimulus might worsen the nausea twisting in his gut. 

Why was he in so much pain? Where was he? What happened?

The voice called again, closer and more urgent. It sounded like a name, though his sluggish mind refused to understand it.

He took slow, deep breaths to ground himself. Beyond the deep ache that settled within his bones, he felt… light. Too light, as though he might drift away from the ground. Panicking slightly, he gripped at the surface beneath him. It felt like stone, though something covered his fingers, muting his touch.

“Danny!” The name sounded again, this time clear. His name.

Danny rolled back onto his side, teeth gritted as every muscle in his body protested. He recognized the voice– Jazz. Jazz was calling for him.

She sounded frightened.

Planting his palms on the floor, Danny hoisted himself up onto his knees, panting with the effort. His head swam with dizziness. Tentatively, Danny opened his eyes. 

He found himself surrounded by darkness, though… he could still see. Danny slowly took in his surroundings, blinking away the bleariness that fogged his vision. The Fenton lab materialized around him, each disorganized, dark detail pronounced… and tinged green with a faint, wavering light.

Danny had never seen so well in low light before. He always had bad visual snow at night, the darkness swamped with rippling static. The static hadn’t left now, but the images through it seemed much more defined, as though he were almost seeing them in daylight. 

He didn’t know what to make of it. Nothing made sense. Danny couldn’t remember why he was down in the lab– on the ground. He hung his head, staring at his hands–

Hands covered with white gloves, stained with green smears…

They seemed to glow, and none of it was right.

The gloves had been black. Danny remembered, through the hazy fog of his mind, that the gloves had been black. 

He remembered wandering down into the lab. He remembered grabbing the hazmat suit from the hook. He remembered walking towards the portal and…

Danny couldn’t remember when he started hyperventilating. The memories flooded through him, a chaotic onslaught of twisted green, flashing lights, and pain beyond pain.

The green still remained, stained over the dark lab like a filter.

Danny whipped his head around, blood roaring in his ears.

The portal stared back at him, alive with a swirling green vortex. A gristly trail of the same bright color came from the portal, leading straight to where he lay.

The word ectoplasm came unbidden to his mind.

Danny dragged himself backwards, scrambling over the discarded materials on the lab floor, knocking away bits of metal and rubber and leaving more green smears across the stone. He kept his eyes firmly locked on the portal, as though the thing might swallow him whole if he turned his back on it.

(It already had.)

Distantly, Danny heard his name called again, followed by hurried footsteps.

“J-Jazz?” Danny called out, the words cracked and broken from his raw throat, echoing strangely in the quiet.

The lab door must have opened, judging by the way natural light spilled into the lab. He didn’t dare turn to look. He listened as the footsteps carried down the stairs, breaking the silence.

“Danny, what are you–” 

The footsteps stopped suddenly, faltering. Danny heard a shoe scuff, followed by the clank of metal. Against his better judgment, Danny tore his eyes from the portal.

Jazz stood, crouched at the foot of the steps. She held onto the railing tightly, with her legs splayed in a manner that suggested she stumbled and caught herself. She stared at him, her eyes stretched wide, reflecting the green glow of the portal.

“J… Jazz?” Danny asked, croaking out her name. The echo remained, tied solely to his own voice.

Jazz stiffened. She slowly pulled herself up with the railing, her body turned towards the steps, tensed as though ready to flee.

“Wh-who are you?” Jazz asked.

The words cut deeper than any knife. He slowly raised his hands, eyeing the stained white gloves that covered them. The gloves weren’t the only thing that had changed, he now noticed. The sleeves on his arms were black, as though the colors of the suit had traded places. Danny couldn’t fathom how. He didn’t understand, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to.

Rocking slightly, Danny’s eyes found Jazz’s. She hadn’t moved an inch.

“Jazz, it-it’s me,” Danny croaked out. “It’s m-me, I… Jazz, I-I’m scared.”

Danny watched as her eyes stretched still wider. Slowly, as though she were approaching a wild beast, Jazz let go of the railing. She kept one hand behind her, ready to grab it again, while her other reached out towards him.

“Danny is… is that you?” she said in hardly more than a whisper.

Her caution sent something fluttering inside his chest and Danny felt bile rise in his throat when it thrummed. He clutched at the black chest of the hazmat suit, desperately feeling for whatever sat between his ribs. 

He could feel a strange humming beneath his fingers that was never there before. It spiked with his nerves, growing into a dissonant tattoo. It felt like a heartbeat, only wrong, and…

Danny had no heartbeat pounding alongside it.

His breaths came quick and shallow, harsh against the ragged skin of his throat. Spots popped into Danny’s vision, and darkness crept along the edges.

“D-Danny?” Jazz said, her voice wavering nearly as much as the thrumming in his chest. She sounded much closer now, though no less nervous.

All Danny could do was nod, the gesture hardly perceptible as he rocked on his heels. Nothing felt real– everything was too much. Jazz was afraid of him, and Danny couldn’t tell why. 

Could she hear the thrumming buzz in his chest, or was there something else?

Jazz’s shoe scuffed on the stone floor. The sound was so close and sudden that Danny flinched back, a keening sound torn from his lips. He stared fixedly at the ground, not daring to look her in the eyes when she knelt before him.

She made a soft, shushing sound. “It– it’s okay. You’re okay,” she said quietly, her voice warbling like the broken notes of a scattered song.

Every bit of Danny shook. He couldn’t stop hyperventilating. His head felt as light as his body. The world spun and his stomach rolled.

Danny quickly turned his head, distancing himself from Jazz before letting loose the contents of his stomach. He gasped for breath, hands planted shakily, eyes firmly shut.

A hand tentatively fell between his shoulder blades and Danny tensed. Jazz’s touch was light and fluttery at first, before she began to rub her hand in slow, soothing circles.

Opening his eyes, Danny saw the bile painting the stone floor. It glowed a lurid green, as vibrant as the stains that led to the portal. It smelled faintly of citrus and ozone.

(Ectoplasm. Why was there ectoplasm inside him?)

Danny scrambled back to sit on his haunches, feeling Jazz’s hand pull away before it settled more firmly on his arm. He didn’t look at her. Danny couldn’t bring himself to look at her. 

Tears welled in his eyes. A choked sob bubbled up from his chest. Danny shrunk in on himself, feeling infinitely small. Scared in a way he had never been before.

“It’s o-okay,” Jazz said, though her voice had no more conviction than it had the day the portal was finished. “Just breathe, j-just… breathe with me, Danny. It-it’s going to be okay.”

She squeezed his arm, rubbing her thumb across the sleeve of his suit.

Danny listened as Jazz began to breathe in the counted, rhythmic pattern she taught him in middle school. Her breaths wavered as much as her voice, though she resolutely soldiered on. Without thinking much of it, Danny found himself following her lead.

The breathing technique once helped Danny through the panic attacks when he first started to transition and the bullying worsened with the change of his name.

Those days felt like mere inconveniences compared to this.

His head began to clear with the measured breaths, though exhaustion replaced the fog. He sank against Jazz, unsure when she’d moved so close. She had one arm wrapped securely across his shoulders, firm but with enough slack to let him retreat if he wanted to, but Danny had no such thoughts. He buried his face into the crook of her neck, squeezing his eyes shut. Sobs wracked his body as he wrapped his arms tightly around Jazz, fisting his hand into her long ginger hair.

Danny hoped the ectoplasm staining his hands wouldn’t hurt her. He desperately didn’t want to let go.

Shaking, Jazz followed suit. She pulled Danny close, one of her hands carding gently through his hair. He melted into the embrace, feeling wet drops splash on top of his head as Jazz cried.

“I–I don’t know what’s h-happening, but… it’s going to be o-okay. We’ll figure this out,” Jazz stammered.

Danny squeezed her tightly, as though he could simply hide himself in her arms and never have to face the world again. She felt warmer than usual. Had her hugs always been so warm?

Just when Danny felt secure, enveloped snugly in her embrace, a chill swept over him. The warmth disappeared, and Danny opened his eyes as he lurched forward and heard Jazz shriek.

Danny landed hard on the stone floor and twisted around, his eyes blown wide as Jazz scrambled away, passing through his torso. 

Through.

Danny quickly patted at his body, worried his own hand might slip through his stomach, but was relieved when his hand felt resistance.

The relief was short-lived, dashed by Jazz’s terrified expression and the way her hands shook as she crept towards him. 

“Danny, what is going on– what h-happened?” She sounded close to hysterical, and Danny wasn’t far behind her.

He just shook his head, words failing him as Jazz reached to touch his arm again. Danny tensed, worried she would slip through his body like vapor.

A weight lifted from his shoulders as he felt her arm gently land on his.

Sighing wearily, Danny met Jazz’s gaze. He could see so many questions brimming in her teary eyes, and Danny hardly knew how to answer a single one of them.

The portal sat behind Jazz now, haloing her in its verdant glow. The endless swirl of green sent a shiver down his spine. He could still feel the cold press of it around his body, fighting against the searing shock of electricity.

The word ectoplasm still danced in Danny’s mind, accompanied by far-off memories of his dad’s endless lectures. 

The portal, the gory trail across the floor, the stains on his gloves…

Ectoplasm. 

Ghosts.

Jazz followed Danny’s eyes to the portal, her lip quivering. The light from the portal gleamed off of her tear-streaked cheeks, and Danny noticed a smear of ectoplasm along her chin. 

“What happened, Danny?” she asked once more, her voice so soft it was hardly more than a breath.

“I…” The words wouldn’t come easily to Danny’s lips. Jazz slipped her hands into his gloved ones, squeezing them tight. Danny focused on the green stains between them, squeezing back.

“I was… inside the portal,” Danny managed to say. Each word cracked and broken.

A sharp intake of breath. Jazz squeezed his hands so tightly that it hurt. His left hand throbbed with pain– before her grip suddenly loosened.

Danny watched in horror as his left hand slipped seamlessly through hers. He whimpered, too afraid to consider what that meant.

Jazz didn’t say anything. She simply held on firmly to the hand that remained in her grip. “In–inside?” she pressed, her voice rising an octave in fear.

Staring at his left hand, Danny hesitantly held it out to her. Just as hesitantly, Jazz reached to accept it. Once more, his hand chose to obey the laws of physics and slipped into hers.

Danny nodded, his head pounding with the movement. 

“Inside,” he echoed– in more ways than one.

Jazz took in a deep breath and let it out shakily. She shook her head, seeming lost. Defeated.

“Danny, you look so different…” she said suddenly, meeting his gaze with a pinched expression.

A fresh wave of panic tore through Danny’s chest, accompanied by that strange thrumming.

“Di-different how?” he demanded, shuffling uncomfortably. 

Something between pity and fear found its way into Jazz’s eyes. She lifted her right hand and stroked his hair, pulling a lock of the sweaty strands forward.

When she said nothing, Danny didn’t understand. He furrowed his brows, waiting for her to say more, when he finally paid attention to the hair in front of his eyes.

He wasn’t sure how he didn’t notice it before. Sweat and ectoplasm had slicked some of his hair back, plastering the locks to his forehead, but surely he should have seen the white strands of hair hovering over his eyes.

Danny ripped his other hand from Jazz’s and pulled at his own hair, dragging more of it into his line of sight. It was snow-white– whiter than the gloves, and glowing more brightly.

“No…” Danny said, the echo in his voice taunting him. “N-no, no… no.”

Hands fisting through his hair, he tugged at the snowy strands and doubled over. It had to be a dream. All of this had to be some cruel, sick nightmare…

“Danny,” Jazz said, her voice steadier, but no less shaken than it had been since she stepped foot in the lab. 

Danny didn’t look at her, though he listened as she kept speaking.

“Danny, what happened when you… when you touched the portal?” she asked. 

She skirted around the detail of him stepping foot inside the machine, as though burying the truth would make any of it easier.

The portal loomed behind her, seeming infinitely taller from where they sat on the stone floor. A doorway of death, opened only by taking what it gave.

Danny knew what had happened. He knew it the moment he felt no heartbeat in his chest. He knew it the moment he saw the glow of the portal.

He knew it the moment the button clicked beneath his hand.

“I was electrocuted,” Danny whispered, not meeting Jazz’s eyes. 

She was quiet. Everything felt too quiet. The thrumming in his chest filled the silence, much more a feeling than a sound, though it reverberated enough to quietly buzz. Danny wasn’t sure if Jazz could hear it. Everything was much sharper now, from the shapes in the dark lab to the sound of Jazz’s nervous breathing.

Before Jazz could say anything, Danny let an idea take root in his mind. It fought with everything he knew– everything he was taught. A wicked, dangerous idea that undermined the Fenton name.

“Jazz, am I… am I a ghost?” he asked.

The glow of his suit and hair. The echo to his voice, and the ectoplasm that came from his belly. The light feel of his body, and the way he phased through hers.

All brought on by the shock of the portal, and the wash of its green glow.

Danny didn’t know what else he could be, considering it all.

(The shock still echoed in his aching body. His left arm twitched, the muscles spasming painfully at the mere thought.)

Jazz shook her head forcefully, though she struggled to deny it. She opened her mouth, making broken, disjointed sounds that barely constituted words, before she clamped her jaw tight.

She simply shook her head again, hanging it low as she grabbed Danny once more by the shoulders and yanked him into a ferocious hug.

Jazz always gave strong hugs, but Danny wasn’t sure if she’d ever held him so tightly. He returned her embrace, hoping beyond hope that he would stay tangible this time.

“You can’t be a ghost,” Jazz said quietly, disbelievingly.

Danny swallowed a lump in his throat, wishing he had some water to cool the sting. The word ghost kept rattling around in his mind until it settled there. It sounded right, though it shouldn’t.

Throwing every bit of trust he had into his words, Danny said, “But what if I am? Jazz, I… I don’t have a h-heartbeat.”

If this was being a ghost, he certainly didn’t feel like the malevolent, uncaring echoes their parents spoke of. Danny could remember everything, and he felt just as strongly as he had before stepping foot into the portal. He loved Jazz. He trusted her with his life…

And now his death, he supposed.

Jazz’s vice-like hug tightened and Danny swore he felt his back crack under the strain.

Jazz’s arms shook as she said, “Whatever you are, you’re my brother.”

Those words warmed Danny to the core. He buried his face back into her shoulder, not caring that he left tears, snot, and ectoplasm on her shirt. Just knowing that Jazz was here for him, no matter what, made it all bearable.

The warmth pooled in Danny’s chest, soft and soothing. He focused on the feeling, gasping as it spread across his body.

A sudden bright light burst from Danny’s torso and Jazz stumbled back– but did not let go of him. They both watched with mounting dread as the light morphed into a ring and split.

The glaring white rings swept over him, trailing up and down his body. Danny winced as the light went up his neck and over his head.

Jazz squinted, blinking dazedly. Her eyes widened, fresh tears welling in them.

“Danny!” she cried, tackling him in another hug.

For a moment, Danny didn’t understand. He awkwardly returned her hug, unsure what the light had done. It wasn’t until Danny felt the heavier weight to his body that he began to understand.

Jazz wouldn’t let go, but Danny could see black hair hanging in front of his eyes. He raised his right hand behind her back, delighted to see that the white gloves and black sleeves of the hazmat suit had gone, somehow leaving him in the blue shirt he’d worn before entering the portal.

Somehow, he was himself again.

Where the hazmat suit had gone, he couldn’t say.

“Thank goodness,” Jazz said under her breath, so quietly that Danny was sure he wasn’t supposed to hear.

When Jazz finally let go, she fixed him with a bright smile. She looked him up and down, as if making sure everything was the same– and then her eyes snapped suddenly to his left arm.

Danny quickly did the same, holding it up to get a better look. It didn’t take long for Danny to notice what she saw. A large pink starburst of a scar covered his palm, branching out into feathery, bolt-like patterns. It circled up the entirety of his left arm, disappearing under the sleeve of his shirt.

Jazz had no words.

Neither did Danny.

Silence stretched between them as both traced the marks across Danny’s arm. It served as undeniable proof that the worst had happened. That what happened to Danny could not simply fade away with the dying light of those strange blue-white rings.

“Are you okay?” Jazz asked nervously.

Danny could only nod, feeling lost. 

“Am I still…” he began to ask, unsure. 

What Danny could see of himself, other than the scar, seemed normal enough, but he needed Jazz’s reassurance.

Jazz didn’t respond right away, as though his words drifted slowly to her ears. She reluctantly pulled her eyes away from the scars marring his arm, looking him in the eye.

“Well, your, um, hair and eyes are back to normal, but I–”

Alarm bells rang in Danny’s head and he raised his hands to his face, pulling at the corners of his eyes.

“What was wrong with my eyes?” he demanded.

Jazz fidgeted uncomfortably under his glare, picking at her nails. She bit her lip, glancing away before she said, “They… Danny, they were green and glowing.”

Danny blinked, surprised. Shaken. He patted at his cheek, staring down at the ectoplasm stains on the floor.

“You didn’t… say…” he said, dumbstruck, his voice cracking horribly on the words.

Jazz huffed, her lip quivering as she said, “You seemed a little overwhelmed for that.”

Danny couldn’t help but laugh. A cold, broken little chuckle that probably didn’t meet his eyes. 

“I suppose…” he said quietly.

Danny stared back at the portal, wondering if his eyes had been the same shade of green. The thought soured his stomach, and he felt–

That same thrumming at his center.

Placing a hand across his chest, Danny felt for the strange humming that lay there. Somehow, it remained with the scar…

Though this time it sat alongside a slow, steady beat.

“I have a heartbeat,” Danny said. “I–I have a heartbeat still,” he repeated, as if to assure himself. 

Jazz froze, eyes stretching wide. She snatched up Danny’s right hand and pressed her fingers to the interior of his wrist. Her brow furrowed as she felt for his pulse, and he watched her relax when she found it.

“It’s slow, but… there,” she confirmed. 

“I’ll take slow over gone,” Danny said a little too quickly.

Jazz choked out a small huff of a laugh. Her eyes were watery and their hands, once more clutched together, both shook. 

“You’re warmer,” she said with a note of reluctance. “You… you were cold.”

Danny just nodded his head, letting the sobering fact roll over him. He thought of how warm Jazz had felt– how warm she still felt. 

An icy chill settled over him, considering the implications of ectoplasm-green eyes and a chill to his skin.

No sooner did the thought strike him, Danny felt that sensation of cold wash over him in the same manner the warmth had. The bright light returned, and this time Danny leapt to his feet.

His legs shook violently beneath him as he backpedaled, staring at the damning beam of light. Danny tried to will it away, but it pressed on, unrelenting.

Wherever the light passed, it left the hazmat suit behind.

“No…” Danny said, immediately noticing that the echo had returned to his voice. “No, why is this happening? This can’t be happening.”

Danny paced on the spot, hugging his arms around himself, stumbling over the trash on the floor as his knees wobbled.

Jazz slowly stood, watching him with frightened eyes and a tense set to her shoulders. She held her hands clasped in front of her, wringing them.

“We–we’ll figure this out,’ Jazz said quietly. “We could go to the hospital, they might be able to help.”

Danny rounded on her, exasperated– overwhelmed.

“Jazz, what is there to fix? I can’t just go to a hospital like this, I– I died. The portal ki–”

“Don’t say that,” Jazz said quickly, her hands flying to her sides, her fists clenched and trembling. “You– you still have a heartbeat. Ghosts can’t… Danny, you can’t be… dead.”

Shaking his head, Danny continued to pace, wandering the lab in discordant circles. His wobbly legs barely kept him standing. His boots kicked at the junk on the floor, the metal clattering loudly across the stone.

One particularly large piece of metal caught Danny’s foot and, with a sinking jolt, he was back inside the portal, falling, falling, falling. 

Fear raced through him, white-hot and icy-cold at the same time. It gripped at his chest, and Danny threw his hands forward, wondering how much the shock would hurt this time around.

His hands crashed onto one of his parents’ work tables, sending implements scattering in a noisy, rattling crescendo.

“Danny!” Jazz called, racing to his side. 

She warbled something in his ear, fretting over him in a doting, loving way perfected through years of being an older sister to a clumsy brother. Danny didn’t hear what she said. His eyes stared, fixedly, at a mirror on the table.

The person staring back at him was hardly recognizable. Snowy hair framed the face, and acid green eyes burned beneath the glowing strands. The eyes flickered back and forth as Danny took in the face, its skin oddly tanned with a green undertone in the cheeks. The pupils were as white as the hair, two spheres of light that constricted to tiny pinholes amidst the glowing green irises.

It was him, Danny knew. Whatever he was, whatever he had become–

It was him.

Danny realized Jazz was gripping his right hand, patiently standing beside him. A soft, warm presence in the cold, quiet lab. He felt lucky to have her here. Relieved to not be alone.

Only… he worried what would happen when anyone else saw. Danny was no stranger to being uncomfortable in his own skin, but this... 

He felt like a monster.

“How am I going to face M–Mom and Dad?” Danny asked, not looking away from the mirror.

Jazz stiffened beside him. Her grip on his hand tightened and she rubbed her thumb over his gloves comfortingly. Absently, Danny noticed that the stains had somehow disappeared from those gloves. 

The stains remained on Jazz’s hands.

“They love you, Danny,” she said. “They love you and this shouldn’t… this shouldn’t change that.”

Danny grit his teeth, watching as the eyes in the mirror flared more brightly. He shut them tight, not wanting to look at them any longer.

“They hate ghosts, Jazz. You’ve– you’ve heard how they talk about them.”

He didn’t need to elaborate– Jazz knew. How many times had they heard their mother tell them that ghosts were evil, manipulative monsters? How many times had their father passionately told them he would love to get his hands on a ghost– to tear it apart, molecule by molecule, and find just what made it tick.

That thrumming in Danny’s chest grew, alongside a squeezing ache. Frankly, Danny wasn’t sure he could say any of it aloud. His cracked voice had begun to waver again, fresh tears welling in his eyes.

Danny felt Jazz pull him away from the mirror. He went along without a fuss, trailing after her like a lost little dog. 

“Let’s get out of the lab, okay?” she said. 

Jazz led Danny up the stairs, letting him lean on her shoulder. The exhaustion that clung to him felt deeper than bone. Each step drained his energy, and he wanted nothing more than to sink down, curl up, and fall asleep.

When they reached the top of the stairs, Jazz left him at the door and quickly ran to close the living room blinds. Danny stood awkwardly in the doorway of the lab, feeling like a stranger in his own home.

Noticing his hesitation, Jazz told him to go sit on the couch while she flitted through the kitchen, opening one of the cabinets.

Danny obeyed, shuffling into the living room and over to the sofa. He went to sink down onto the plush cushions– but shouted as he slipped through the couch. A cold, shivery feeling encompassed Danny as he stared at the padding inside the cushions.

A crashing sound came from the kitchen, followed by Jazz’s hurried footsteps. Danny felt her grab one of his hands. She tugged, hoisting him to his feet with more force than was necessary. Shakily, Danny stepped away from the couch, breathing heavily.

“I d–don’t know how to stop that,” Danny warbled.

Jazz frowned, clearly shaken but trying her best to tamp down her own feelings. “Come on, let’s get you some water,” she said gently.

Jazz took Danny's hand again. After all the times she’d grabbed it tonight, it felt like an extension of his person.

They both went into the kitchen, stepping around the shattered pieces of glass cup Jazz had dropped. Danny noticed for the first time that his boots were as white as the gloves.

At Jazz’s gentle nudge, Danny pulled out one of the dining room chairs. He pressed the seat with his palm first, making sure he would stay solid, before daring to sit down.

They didn’t speak as Jazz pulled another glass from the cabinet and filled it with cold water. The clock on the wall ticked loudly in the silence, grating against Danny’s already-frayed nerves.

He took the glass of water from Jazz gratefully. His throat still burned, an echo of the screams that rang in his ears.

Danny hardly took a sip of the water, however, before the glass slipped from his hands and fell to the ground with a resounding crash. He knew that his grip hadn’t been loose. The cup simply phased through his hands, slipping with no more difficulty than he had fallen through the couch.

Jazz looked him over, making sure he wasn’t hurt by the glass. She seemed to realize what had happened, and mercifully did not draw attention to it. Danny was glad for that, feeling entirely too close to breaking down again. Tears blurred his vision and Danny quickly wiped them away.

Jazz silently brought him another glass of water, this time leaving it on the table with a straw. Danny shot her a grateful look before drinking deeply. The cold water felt heavenly against his raw throat, and he couldn't help but sigh in relief.

Jazz filled the glass a second time for him before she began to sweep up the broken glass. Danny listened to the rhythmic sweep of the broom and the  sharp tinkle of glass sliding into the dustpan. Jazz took her time, cleaning up parts of the floor where Danny was sure no glass had fallen. It was something to do, he supposed.

She filled the glass a third time before she tied off the trash bag and took it to the garage. 

The clock continued its relentless ticking in her absence. Time stretched on, and after a while Danny heard the telltale sounds of Jazz crying. He gripped the glass in both hands, holding it like a small child, his throat tight with emotion.

When Jazz came back, her eyes puffy and bright, her nose red, Danny looked at her with matching watery eyes. He grinned ruefully and she matched that as well.

The sun was sinking low in the sky, the light from the windows fading with its departure. Danny hadn't realized that the power was out, though it made sense of the dark lab. The battery clock was the only thing alive in the too-quiet house.

(Other than the portal, though Danny remembered that his parents had a large backup generator hooked up to it. He hoped the thing wasn't somehow alive without it.)

Jazz busied herself around the kitchen, pulling supplies out of the cabinets. She grabbed several candles and lanterns, dispersing them around the kitchen and living room. Danny wanted to help her, but he couldn’t bring himself to get up. He stared at his empty glass, fixated on how the material reflected the green of his eyes.

Before long, the sun had set and the house was dark, lit only by the flicker of candles, the glow of lanterns– and the soft glow Danny himself emitted. 

A hand gently landed on his shoulder and Danny startled slightly. Jazz was patient and quiet as she led him to the couch, this time making sure he safely sat down before letting go.

The couch was covered in blankets, pillows, drinks, and snacks. Danny wasn’t sure when she found the time to collect it all. 

Probably in the time he sat staring into his glass, numb to the world around him.

They didn’t speak much as they both got situated on the couch. Danny hunkered under one of his favorite blankets– a starry blue one that Jazz gave him on his birthday several years ago.

Jazz nestled some pillows around them, making a sort of nest. Between the blankets, snacks, and being on the couch, it felt like one of their old movie nights– minus the television.

(Minus one black-haired, blue-eyed boy.)

Jazz tried to get Danny to eat, but his stomach pitched with nausea at the thought. She sighed, her brows knitting together with concern.

There was a haunted look in her teal eyes. Jazz looked so much older than she had earlier that morning when she shut the front door, running off to see her friends.

Danny hated that he made her worry. He hated that he had stepped foot inside the portal. It was such a stupid, foolish decision, and Danny wasn’t sure how he was supposed to live with the consequences of it.

(If he was even still living.)

“I’m sorry,” Danny choked out, lost in his own head. He clutched the blanket more tightly, leaning against Jazz. “I sh-shouldn’t have gone into the portal– I– I just wanted to see, and… I’m sorry.”

Jazz took in a sharp breath. She rounded on him, her lip quivering as she grabbed either side of his face.

“Danny. I don’t know why you…” She sighed, taking a deep breath as she paused. “We all make mistakes. I just… I’m so sorry I wasn’t there to stop this one.”

Tears streamed from her eyes, and Danny hated to know he’d put them there. Her apology rang bitter in his ears, and he vehemently shook his head, shaking off her hands.

“Don’t say sorry,” he said, his jaw tensed. “Please, don’t. It’s not your fault that I–I was being stupid… It was so stupid.”

Jazz settled back down beside him, inching closer so their shoulders pressed together. “You’re not stupid,” she said.

Danny let out a disbelieving huff before he rested his head against her shoulder. He noticed that Jazz shivered slightly at the contact, however, and quickly tried to pull away. His efforts were in vain when Jazz leaned in closer, closing the gap.

“I feel stupid,” Danny grumbled, leaning back against her shoulder. “I just… walked in… and tripped.”

Jazz shuddered. Her hand groped for his left, clutching it tight. His palm beneath the glove ached, and Danny wondered what the scar would look like beneath it in this form.

He didn’t dare look.

“That portal should have never been in the basement,” Jazz said. “If it wasn’t you, it would’ve…”

Her words trailed off and Danny made no effort to finish them. Entertaining the thought was unspeakable.

(The idea that he might have preferred it that way.)

“What is with those light rings?” Jazz suddenly asked, as if she needed something to focus her mind on. 

The change in subject was welcome, though Danny wasn’t sure he knew how to answer her question.

Danny hummed to himself, the sound pairing well with the thrum in his chest. It had happened twice now, that strange burst of light, and Danny understood it no more than… anything that had happened.

All he recalled was the feeling. 

The first time Danny felt the rings, they had been warm like a wash of summer rain, rushing through his being.

The second time Danny felt the rings, they had been cold, more like a winter storm circling him in snow.

Without answering Jazz, Danny tried to imagine that first feeling again. He couldn’t be sure if simply imagining it would do something, but…

That spot of his chest that hummed and thrummed suddenly felt warm. He leaned into the feeling, imagining it spreading– washing over him.

The light burst forth once more, and this time Danny did not cower when he saw it. He watched, fascinated, as it made the now-familiar journey up and down his body. Danny welcomed the familiar sight of his blue shirt– and even the scar on his arm. He felt for his heartbeat, sighing with relief when it gently beat against his fingers.

“How does that work? Can you control it? How do you feel?” Jazz stared with wide eyes as she hurtled the questions at him.

Danny couldn’t help but laugh. It felt good to laugh.

“I… think I can control it?” He said cautiously. “It felt warm the first time it happened, so I just tried to think of that.”

Jazz nodded slowly, though she asked once more, “How do you feel?” Concern dripped in her voice, and it gripped at Danny’s heart. 

(His mercifully beating heart. Could a ghost truly have a heartbeat?)

The question was a loaded one. How did he feel? How was he supposed to feel, after…

The portal. The shock. His death.

“O–okay,” he said anyway. “I feel okay…”

The last thing Danny wanted right now was to explore his own head and decipher those feelings.

Jazz clearly wasn’t fooled. A world-weary sigh left her lips and she leaned back against him, resting her chin on top of his head. She was so much taller than him and, while it annoyed Danny most days, he was glad for it now. 

“I don’t know what we’re going to do, Danny,” she said it more to herself.

The words shook something deep in Danny’s core. The thrumming pulsated alongside his heartbeat, and it was only then that he noticed how much it followed with his emotions.

 “I don’t want to tell them,” Danny said suddenly, with some measure of conviction. 

He didn’t need to specify who.

When Jazz didn’t immediately shut down the idea, Danny kept going.

“I–I don’t know what they’ll do, and I don’t want to… I don’t want to find out. If I can just look normal then they’ll n-never have to know, and I… won’t have to… find out....”

Jazz wrapped an arm around him, her hands still shaking slightly. Something about the gesture made Danny’s rambling trail off. He looked up at her, finding that she was nervously worrying her lip.

“Okay,” was all she said.

The response made Danny pause. He had expected her to disagree, or to try and come up with another plan, or to otherwise convince him that he needed to tell their mom and dad.

The last thing he expected was for her to agree.

“Really?” Danny asked, skeptical.

Jazz continued to worry her lip, so much so that Danny feared she might bite through her skin. Silence stretched between them as she seemed to collect her thoughts. Her eyes darted nervously around the room before coming to rest on him.

“I don’t know if it’s the best plan, b–but… They have so many weapons in this house,” her voice quivered, and Danny could see Jazz’s eyes trailing over several of the spots he knew held those weapons. “With the portal active now, they’re going to be more vigilant than ever and I… I honestly don’t know what they’ll think, Danny. I don’t know what they’ll do.”

The arm around him squeezed tightly and Danny leaned into her, closing his eyes. 

“I love them. I know they love you,” she continued, as though she needed to convince herself more of the idea. “They just… don’t understand some things. They don’t think sometimes.”

It had taken their parents almost a year to even consistently use the right pronouns for Danny.

They still messed up sometimes.

Still, compared to this, coming out as trans to them had been little more than a hurdle.

(Though it had seemed like the tallest mountain peak at the time.)

They didn’t even resent him for it. They accepted trans people– him.

Danny couldn’t say they felt the same about ghosts. 

“So this stays between us?” Danny asked, hating the hopeful note in his own voice. 

There was another long pause, marked only by Jazz’s heart beating beneath his ear. The candlelight illuminating the living room flickered, shadows dancing across the walls. The entire room smelled like sickeningly sweet butterscotch. 

“At least until we figure out what’s going on,” Jazz said. “What… all of this is.”

Danny felt he already knew, at least in some measure. It seemed obvious to him. 

Perhaps it even was to Jazz, regardless of if she admitted it or not.

“Okay,” Danny agreed, accepting that it would have to do for now. 

Some of the tension left Jazz’s shoulders. She hummed to herself, the sound vibrating against Danny’s head. His eyelids drooped low, exhaustion creeping through his sore body, weighing him down.

One last thought lingered in Danny’s sleep-addled mind as Jazz’s humming morphed into a lullaby he recognized from years gone by.

“I want to tell Sam and Tucker, though,” he mumbled against her shoulder.

The humming faltered and stopped. Jazz took a deep breath before she said, “Okay.”

A small smile graced Danny’s lips as Jazz resumed the lullaby. 

Danny didn’t know what to expect from tomorrow. Their parents would be home in three days, and it wouldn’t matter if he kept this secret if he accidentally phased through something in front of them.

There was so much to figure out. So much to talk about with Jazz– with Sam and Tucker. Within a few short hours, his life had taken such a turn that Danny no longer knew what to expect around the corner.

(His life had ended after all, hadn’t it? Yet he was still here, his heart still beating.)

Danny pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind for later, focusing instead on Jazz’s lullaby. He let the sound carry his exhausted mind to sleep. 

~*~

Jazz kept humming, even when she was sure Danny had fallen asleep. It was something to do. Something to keep her busy– to keep her mind from spiraling.

She held her little brother close, uncomfortably aware that Danny wasn’t warm. The cold chill disappeared with his transformation, but he still wasn’t warm.

It seemed normal for him now. Yet another strange thing to adjust to.

A soft, rhythmic rumble distracted Jazz. She stopped humming suddenly, focusing on the sensation. A familiar sound accompanied it, though it wasn’t something she’d ever expected to hear from her brother.

Throughout the evening, while holding Danny close, she had felt… something inside his chest. A strange humming that had nothing to do with his voice. She tried to ignore it, like so many other smaller details, but it persisted all the same.

She supposed this sound was connected to that humming. It came from Danny’s chest, rumbling like distant thunder.

Somehow, inexplicably, he was purring.

Jazz didn’t wake him. The sound was strange, but it was no more strange than anything else she’d seen that evening. She didn’t know a lot about animals, but Jazz did know that cats purr when they’re happy or content. If this was at all the same, then she supposed Danny simply felt safe– maybe even a little bit happy.

(If anyone could be happy in this situation.)

Maybe Jazz would discover later that she was mistaken with this conclusion, but she chose to cling to it now. 

Jazz clung to her brother just as tightly, reluctant now to ever let go. Ectoplasm stained her shirt and hair, but she couldn’t bring herself to leave for a shower.

Sleep did not come easily to Jazz. When she first saw Danny in the basement, changed and stained by ectoplasm, she feared she had lost him.

Even now Jazz feared she might still lose him. 

Whatever Danny was, however, he was still… Danny. Her brother.

Jazz would be there for him, no matter what. Human, ghost, or something in-between. 

[quirkless-accident]

Piano Man

One of Danny's earliest memories is of his father teaching him how to play piano.

His father has always loved working with his hands, but before he could hold a screwdriver or a blow torch safely he funneled that need through music. Through pressing down black and white keys and singing joyously at the top of his lungs. And when Danny was diagnosed quirkless, his father sat him down at the piano and said, "let's try something new today."

It's become kind of a release for Danny. While he managed to keep most of the bullying hidden from his parents, they were in no way idiots. So to make him feel better, his father would sit him down and they would play the piano together. Sometimes his mother or his sister would sit on his other side or on the couch and just listen as his fingers danced across the keys. He's always found a comfort in playing the piano, because if he didn't have friends, he could at least have this. It's probably the one thing that saved his life.

And then the accident happened.

He didn't tell his parents. Even when he went out and got his ass kicked by other ghosts, he didn't tell them. Not until he got his letter from U.A. telling him he passed, because at least he could soften the blow with the news that he finally had a chance at being a proper hero. And it had gone better than expected. He had been grounded for two whole months for lying to them, but it was a small price to pay. And unless Danny needed to go to the Zone, the portal stayed off, meaning no ghosts ever got through. It was a great relief for Danny, who didn't have any time to do much of anything anymore.

U.A. was just as intense as he expected it to be. His teacher was an intelligent hobo, and his classmates were ruthlessly competitive as much as they were funny, and the studies had hit Danny had. Especially Cementoss' literature class. his only saving grace was his math grade and the ethics papers Aizawa sometimes assigned them.

So to say he had no time to play was an understatement.

And school was already hectic without the villain attacks and All Might's retirement. The air was shifting around them, politically and socially, and, well, it was no secret that Danny was stressed out by it. It didn't help that he hasn't been able to do the one of the only things that's kept him sane all these years.

Moving into the dorms helped a little with his increasing stress levels. It was nice to not have to deal with the subway, and it was nice to be able to hang out with his friends almost anytime he wanted to. They helped him relax on his good days, and sat with him in a silent support on his bad.

Still, it wasn't the same as home. Because at least home had a piano.

Or, at least that's how he used to feel.

Two weeks into staying at the dorms, Momo had asked if there could be a piano placed in the common room. Everybody said they were fine with it, and with that knowledge she had gone to Aizawa and Nezu about it. The next day there was one installed, and Danny could have cried in relief.

But...Even though there was a piano now, he still didn't play. Because outside of his family, he's never played in front of an audience before. And just thinking about doing so makes him want to puke.

So he waits. He bides his time until most people are gone over the weekend, and the ones that stay are in the gyms or the library. And once he's sure he's the only one left in the dorms, he sits down, lifts the lid to the keys, and starts playing.

It's an immediate relief. It's like aloe vera on a sun burn, or a cold glass of water after an intense training. The more he lets his fingers fly, the less tension he can feel in his shoulders. And it doesn't take very long for him to get completely lost in the music, in the notes that come with whatever his heart desires.

His eyes are closed and his body is moving with the music as he plays, and he's so immersed that he doesn't notice the front door opening and closing. And when the song ends, he shakes what little tension there is out of his shoulders and he starts a new song. He's grinning and singing softly under his breath, slowly getting louder and louder the more he plays.

And then the song fades out, but before he can start a new one, there's an impressed whistle behind him. He startles so bad he nearly falls off the bench. He whirls around to see Todoroki and Midoriya beaming at him. Aizawa is laying on the couch, half asleep like he was listening to what Danny had to offer.

"S-sorry," he says, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "I didn't hear you guys come back. I can stop now if you-if you want."

"I thought it was nice," Todoroki says, face unmoving. Midoriya is nodding his head vigorously.

"I didn't know you could play, Danny!" He says excitedly. "You're so good! How long have you been playing?"

"Oh-uh. Since I was like, four. It's not a big deal, though, really-"

"-do you know Gymnopedie no.1?" Aizawa asks from his spot on the couch before Danny can say anything worse about his playing.

"Uh...Yeah," Danny replies.

"Play that, please?"

"Yes, sir," he says. He turns back around, and takes a deep breath. Behind him he can hear Todoroki and Midoriya settling in to listen.

The song is slow and quiet. It's calm and peaceful, and it helps calm down Danny's nerves as he plays in front of his little audience of three. Plus with his back to them, it's easy to forget they're even there.

The song is only a couple of minutes, but when it's done Danny feels light in a way he hasn't been since starting U.A. Over on the couch, Aizawa has fallen asleep. More so than his usual catnaps he takes in class. His breathing is slow and deep, and he can hear soft snoring coming from the man, like Danny's playing is the one thing he needed to finally relax. Sitting on the floor at the coffee table is Midoriya, who's writing in one of his notebooks. He looks up at Danny, and his smile is absolutely blinding. Todoroki is sitting beside him, watching Midoriya write with a small smile. He looks up at Danny, and it's the calmest Danny's ever seen the other boy. His shoulders are relaxed and his face is serene.

"Do you know Nocturne op.9?" He asks quietly, like speaking would disturb the little bubble of peace they've made for themselves. "It's my mother's favorite."

Danny nods and turns back around to start playing.

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

This becomes a thing he does most weekends when his other classmates have gone back home. It's always a mix and match of faces, the only consistent ones being Todoroki and, after the first week, Uraraka. Aizawa comes in when he can, and every time he asks Danny to play the same song. Every time, he's out like a light. Sometimes Present Mic will come and sit with them when Danny plays. Danny offered to play with him, but Mic just shook his head with a soft smile and asked Danny to keep playing.

Word spreads like wild fire throughout the student body and staff. After the weekend with Mic, almost all of 1-A stays, but Danny doesn't break his routine of playing once a week. He needs it just as much as everybody else wants it.

Almost every weekend, Aizawa and Mic will sit on the couch and listen and sleep. Cementoss started coming in when he wants a quiet place to read. Snipe and Midnight grade tests in the kitchen. All Might has shown up once or twice with Nezu right behind him. Sometimes they quietly ask him to play something, and other times they just sit and let him play whatever he wants, so long as he plays Aizawa's Gymnopedie first.

And Danny is sure that there are other kids who are able to play just as good as him-if not better. Jirou and Momo to name a couple. But it's nice having this routine, and this audience. Because while his music has always been for him, he's never minded sharing with people he considers family.

And, well, if he gets a laugh out of Kaminari and Sero from playing Giorno's Theme, then that just makes it even better.