#Greg waved & gave me a thumbs up after he saw my shirt

[foxskip]

Hello tonight was a fun time. :)

[killercarmen]

Chapter two is up!

Steven went back into the gift shop and sought out Mister Myster.

He found him in the back of the gift shop, talking to a boy, and handing him a bunch of signs. He pointed at the door and the boy walked out.

“Excuse me,” Steven said, getting the man’s attention.

He turned around and smiled at him.

“Welcome back, my good sir! What can I help you with?” He asked.

“Well, I saw your sign,” Steven pointed at the help wanted sign in the window, “and was wondering if the position was still open.”

Mister Mystery nodded his head, “Yep! That spot is most definitely still opened. And if you want the job, you’re hired! You’re the first person to ask,” he turned and motioned for Steven to follow him. Steven followed him to what looked like his office, and sat in the chair in front of his desk.

“So what’s your previous job experience like?” Mister Mystery asked, rifling through some files in a cabinet by his desk.

“Well, uh,” Steven looked around nervously. How do you explain to a human that you were a galactic ambassador for two years of your life?

“Um, I was a sales clerk at a donut shop,” was all Steven was able to say. All of his other ‘professions’ were wrapped in gem stuff, and this road trip was about being human.

“Got experience in customer service I see, perfect,” Mister Mystery closed the cabinet he was looking in and opened the one below it, “now where is that stupid paperwork,” he muttered.

Just then, Steven remembered.

“Uh, so, the thing is, I don’t have a social security number. Is that okay?” He asked.

Mister Mystery looked up at him before closing the drawer he was looking in and smiled, “Kid, that’s perfect, less paperwork for me,” he held out his hand, “You’re hired!”

Steven smiled wide. He just got his first paying job! And it was a lot easier than he’d thought. He shook Mister Mystery’s hand.

“Thank you, Mister Mystery!”

Stan smiled, “Please, calls me Mr. Pines.”

Steven nodded, “Okay, thank you Mr. Pines!”

And with that, Steven became an official staff member of the Mystery Shack

—————

Steven got back into his car, buzzing with excitement. This was going to be his first job that didn’t include gems, and he was ready for it. Mr. Pines said he would mainly just be working the gift shop, trying to get customers to ‘empty their pockets,’ as he put it. Which seemed simple enough to Steven. He turned on the ignition and realized he had no place to stay for the summer. Maybe he can find a room to rent somewhere in town tomorrow, but tonight he had to find a motel. He pulled up maps on his phone, and searched up motels in the area. As Steven drove off towards his destination, the Mystery Shack faded into the distance, and disappeared as he rounded a corner. He made it to the motel, got a room, and sat on the bed. Tomorrow would be his first real day of work; work at a museum for the weird. Steven laughed at that. He knew first hand what was ‘weird’ to humans, and the idea that he, probably the weirdest thing on earth, would be working there gave him a chuckle. He turned off the lights and crawled into bed. This would certainly be an interesting summer.

The next morning, Steven woke up early. His excitement for what the first day of work would bring woke him up around 7 am. He spent a couple of hours searching online for rooms for rent, and had no luck. It seemed like there was no place to rent in all of Gravity Falls. He frowned, unsure of how to proceed. He’ll just have to stay at the motel until he can figure out what to do. At 9 am, his alarm went off, signaling to him that his shift would start in 30 minutes. He took a quick shower, ate breakfast, and headed out to the Mystery Shack.

Steven was buzzing with excitement as he walked through the door into the Mystery Shack gift shop. It was empty aside from Stan and a red headed girl, who sat behind the register.

“Welcome back, kid,” Stan said, giving him a little wave, “This is Wendy, she’s gonna train you.”

Stan pointed at the girl behind the register, and she gave Steven a little wave. Steven waved back. She stood up and walked over to him and Stan.

“Sup, I’m Wendy,” she said, giving Steven a welcoming smile.

“I’m Steven, Steven Universe,” he held out a hand to Wendy. She shook it.

“That’s an epic last name, did you have it changed or was that your parents’ name?” Wendy put her hands back into her jean pockets.

Steven scratched the back of his neck.

“Well, it’s my dad’s last name, but he had it changed. He was a musician and he thought Greg Universe sounded better than Greg DeMayo.”

Wendy frowned, “Greg Universe? Why does that sound familiar?”

“Well, he was a musician, maybe you heard one of his songs?” Steven suggested.

“Hm, maybe? But I feel like it’s something else…” she shrugged, “I’ll think of it later. But now I gotta tell you how to do stuff.”

Wendy proceeded to spend the next 2 hours teaching Steven how to run the gift shop. He got a little stuck on the register, but by the end of the 2 hours, he put in charge. Well, technically Wendy was still in charge, but she was sitting on the ground reading a magazine while Steven manned the register.

“If you have any questions, I’m right here,” she said before settling down to read her magazine.

Business was pretty slow, but that was a given considering it was a Monday. A few people had come through, but they mainly bought mugs and bumper stickers. Steven managed to sell a shirt, but that was the biggest purchase all day and it was already 3 pm. Steven drummed his fingers against the countertop of the cash wrap, trying to tap a tune to keep himself entertained. He found himself drumming the tune to Working Dead by Sadie Killer and the Suspects. It’s been a while since he has talked to them. He should call them after work. He started humming the lyrics, forming the song with the tapping of his fingers.

“Dude, are you humming Working Dead?”

Steven looked towards the floor to see Wendy looking at him.

“Yeah, I am. It’s a fun song.”

A huge smile formed on her face, “I love Sadie Killer and the suspects! Their music is so good, and I love their whole vibe!”

“I know right! Fun fact, that song was created while we were watching horror movies in Sadie's basement!” Steven smiled at the fond memory.

“Wait,” Wendy stood up, “We, what do you mean by we? You were there?”

Steven nodded, “Yeah! We were watching The Lurch and Sour Cream liked the background music, so he started mixing, adding drum beats and stuff, then Jenny started playing her bass, and I joined on the electric guitar. Buck joined on his acoustic guitar and then we just needed lyrics. Sadie had just gotten off of work, so she started singing about it. And boom! Working Dead was born, and Sadie Miller became Sadie Killer. And that’s how the band formed.”

Wendy’s mouth was agape and she looked stunned.

“You… were there… oh my god,” her eyes widened as she realized something, “your dad is Greg Universe! Their manager! I knew that name sounded familiar.”

Steven gave a little laugh, “That he is. He has some experience in ‘show biz.’”

Wendy pulled out her phone, “I’m soooo telling my friends about this,” she sat back down on the floor and started texting.

The next few minutes passed in silence, with only the faint clicks of a keyboard to break it. But that silence is broken by a shriek. Steven stood up quickly, worried that someone might be in trouble. Suddenly, a girl runs into the gift shop, followed by a boy. They both looked pretty young; probably only around 12. The girl was laughing, holding something in her hand as the boy chased her.

“Mabel! Give it back!” The boy yelled

“Come and get it then!”

The boy tackled the girl and they wrestled on the ground as the boy tried to grab the item. The girl locked eyes with Steven and shouted, “Catch!” before throwing the object at him. Steven caught it effortlessly and saw that it was an almost solved Rubik’s cube. Steven looked up from it to see the boy on the other side of the counter.

“Can I Please have that back? I’m so close to solving it,” the boy said.

Steven smiled at him before handing it back.

The girl, who he presumed was Mabel, pouted, “You’re not supposed to give it back to him!”

Steven shrugged, “Sorry.”

The boy scowled at his sister before looking back at Steven, “Thanks! I’m Dipper by the way, and this is Mabel,” he pointed at the girl.

“Whomp whoooomp,” she said.

Steven smiled and gave them both a little wave, “Hi! I’m Steven, nice to meet you.”

Wendy popped up from behind the counter.

“Hey Mabel, hey Dipper,” she turned to face Steven, “these are Mr. Pines’s twin great niece and nephew. They’re staying here for the summer.”

Steven looked back to see Dipper working on the Rubik’s cube while Mabel stared at him.

“That sounds like fun. I’m going to be staying in Gravity Falls for the summer too! Although, I have yet to find a place to stay.”

He looked at Wendy to see he had started texting again, “Um, Wendy?”

She doesn’t look up from her phone, “Yeah?”

“Know any places in town that are renting? Right now I’m staying in the Moonlight All-Night Motel,” Steven asked.

Wendy shook her head, “Not that I’m aware of.”

Mabel’s face lit up, “You can rent a room here!”

Steven twiddles his thumbs, “Uh, I don’t want to impose…”

“Pfft,” Mabel waved her hand dismissively at him, “It’s no big deal! I’ll ask Grunkle Stan right now!”

Before Steven could protest, she ran behind a door that said ‘Employees Only.’

Dipper sighed, “I’ll go talk to her.”

And with that, the twins had both left the gift shop. Steven mulled over the idea of staying at the Mystery Shack over the summer. He would certainly be closer to work, and it was better than the motel for sure.

‘If Mr. Pines says yes to Mabel, then maybe, but for now, I should get back to work,’ Steven thought just as a group of tourists came into the gift shop.

———

As Steven cleaned up the shop, preparing to close, Mr. Pines walked in.

Stan gives Steven a pat on the back, “Wendy tells me you did a good job! Congrats on your first day of work. Now, just because you did good today, doesn’t mean you get to slack off. I already got one lazy teenager, I don’t need another one. Wait, how old did you say you were again?”

“Eighteen,”

“Okay, so still a teenager, I was right,” Stan muttered.

He frowned, appearing to be deep in thought.

Steven waited for him to say something. When he didn’t, Steven went back to sweeping.

“Mabel tells me you don’t have a place to stay,”

Steven turned around to see Stan looking at him,

He laughed nervously, “Yeah, I rolled into town only yesterday. And I tried looking online this morning to see if there were any places nearby that were renting, but I couldn’t find anything.”

Stan smiled, “Well, there's a room open in this very house! Rent is only... $300 a month.”

Steven mulled it over. He’d only be staying here for around three months, and so $300 times 3 would be.. $900. He’d have to ask his dad to give him some more cash, but he has enough for at least one month.

Steven nodded, “Sound good, I can do that.”

Stan smiled. This kid was loaded!

“Great! Come back here with your stuff while I have the room prepped. Soos!” Stan yelled.

The ‘Employees Only’ door opened and in walked in who Steven suspected was the handyman, judging by the tool belt he wore.

“Sup Mr. Pines? Whatcha need?”

Stan gestured towards Steven.

“Get the spare room prepped for someone to live in, I’m letting this kid rent it.”

“Will do Mr. Pines!” With that, Soos turned and walked back through the door he came from.

Stan turned back towards Steven.

“The room will probably be ready in 30 minutes, be back by then. You can leave now.”

Steven nodded, “Will do!”

Steven put the broom away before waving a goodbye to Stan and fussing out the door. He hurried back to his motel room, and packed him. This summer was already off to a great start, and he was ready for everything else it would bring.

[intoanothermind]

The Glue - Part Five

T H E   G L U E

Word Count: 3.2k words

Synopsis: Glue or Variable? This is the big question about Frankie’s existence. Assigned to the same role as Newt in WCKD’s Lethal Experiments, Frankie suddenly realizes that she will become just a variable to activate brain reactions in her former Group A friends. Without memories and being the only girl among several boys, she has the feeling of already knowing some of them. The new question that matters to WCKD is: will Frankie play her role as a variable correctly?

- Newt x OC (Frankie)

Masterlist

<Part 4 | Part 6>

(Warnings: attempt of sexual abuse. DO NOT read it if it’s a major trigger for you. You can read the first part in italic, skip the first part after the “~*~” and read from the first line in the normal text.I will put it in bold so you can know where. After that there’s a lot of confusing and shocked feelings, so be warned as well. I’ll put a summary at the end of the chapter about what happend if you want to skip it altogether after the italics.)

—

P A R T   F I V E

The girl could do nothing but cry. Cry and mourn for the bad luck she has had since she was pulled out of her parents' arms more than a decade ago. She was a fifteen year old teenager and, as such, had her hormones, feelings and dreams like any other, it didn’t matter if she was part of WICKED or not. And they should understand. She loved Newt as she never thought she would ever love someone and now the Creators have only thought of separating them. That wasn’t fair!

“Frankie?” She heard a familiar voice seconds before bumping into someone and going straight to the floor.

The girl looked up, meeting the small eyes of her friend Minho, looking at her with concern.

“Frankie, what happened? Are you alright?” He asked, crouching beside her to help her up.

“Doesn't matter, where's Newt?” Asked the girl, a little hurried as he wiped a few tears.

Minho frowned, confused. “He's on his way, he was finishing some last minute challenges.”

“Thank you, Minho, see you later!” She said in a hurry, giving a kiss on the friend's cheek before running away in the direction where he came from.

After a few corridors turned, she finally saw the blonde she was looking for further ahead. She was in a hurry, so she didn't stop as she pulled Newt toward a side door. The space they entered was tiny, but the girl didn't care. She just hugged the boy's waist and allowed herself to shed a few more tears.

“Frankie? What is it?” Newt asked, concerned, as he hugged her with one arm and stretched the other to find the switch.

The girl closed her eyes tightly when the light was turned on and buried her face in Newt's chest. With some difficulty, he managed to push the girl away and watch her face, reddened by crying. She held it in her hands and the girl finally opened her eyes, finding the brownish orbs watching her closely.

“What happened, love?” He asked, stroking his cheek with his thumb.

“T-they ...” She started, but paused to take a deep breath and say something coherent. “The Creators changed my role in the Experiment.”

Newt frowned, confused. “What do you mean? Frankie, I don't understand.”

The girl took another deep breath, building up the courage to pass on the information she had heard Thomas exchange with the Chancellor.

“They found out about us dating, Newt.” She said, and Newt could see the desperation in her eyes. “They found out and instead of punishing us, they decided to change my role. Thomas had tried to negotiate with Chancellor Paige, but all he managed was for me to become a variable.” She continued, already feeling a new wave of crying wanting to explode through her chest. “I will not be more to ‘keep the girls together’ in Group B. I'll go to your Glade.”

Newt looked astonished. He looked around at the broom closet - strange and cliché in the girl's opinion - before turning to her with an unreadable expression on his face.

“Why would that be bad?” He asked, finally speaking.

“Because it is!” Exclaimed the girl, moving away from Newt and placing her hands on her head. “I will be a variable! I will be there just to induce brain reactions, I will be even more disposable than I already am!” She ended almost screaming.

“Hey Hey hey!” Murmured Newt, taking the girl's hands and pushing them away from her face. “We can try to see the bright side of it.” He waited until she looked him in the eye. “We were afraid when they split up to Phase 2 in the Desert. Now they won't.”

“B-but...” The girl tried to argue, seeking answers to her doubts and despairs.

“But nothing, Frankie.” Said Newt firmly, holding her face in his hands and making her look into his eyes. When she did, he opened the crooked smile that made her heart so fast. “You may not remember anything that happened to us so far, but at least we'll be together. And that is what matters.”

The girl smiled, delighted. “That's what matters.”

Newt's smile widened even more, and he leaned over to kiss her. The kiss that always made the girl forget that the reality she faced was not the best.

~ * ~

The first thing I felt when I woke up was despair taking over my body control. I couldn't breathe and my eyes were already blurred by tears that I didn't even notice were streaming. My sleeping bag was pulled out of me and I finally realized what was happening when a weight pinned me to the floor covered with dry leaves: Greg, the Builder who had been teasing me the day before, was onto me, immobilizing me and using one of the hands to explore my body.

I breathed heavily against the boy's warm skin, and tried at all costs to free myself from his grip. Greg murmured indecipherable words that I sometimes understood as “be quiet” or “shut up before they find out”. But I would never be quiet, at least not now and not at that moment. I struggled as hard as I could while I was trapped under his body, but nothing I did seemed to bring me freedom. The feeling of despair, failure and disgust was beginning to suffocate me more than ever. Greg slid his hand down the men's shirt I wore, leaving my breast exposed. My eyes widened automatically and my heart increased its pace almost sickly.

And in that instant, I wanted my heart to really stop.

When Greg left my breasts reddish, purple and sore, I no longer knew how to decide between uselessly screaming for help and whining about my bad luck. I was already about to hit my head hard on the floor in order not to witness what I knew would be the worst moment of my life as Greg lowered his hand towards my pants when his weight abruptly left me.

I opened my eyes, taking the opportunity to get away and crawled on my back until I felt my body hitting a tree. I lifted my torn shirt and hid my chest again. Not far from me, I saw Minho over Greg, beating him audibly and angrily.

“Go after Newt, now!” Minho shouted at me, before returning to his fight with Greg, who started to fight back.

I still remained paralysed for a few seconds, trying to absorb everything that had happened to me. When I finally seemed to recover at least enough to run, I did. I got up suddenly and didn't look at the boys fighting on the ground before running through the trees back to Homestead. And I kept crying. Holding the torn fabric of what is left of my shirt in front of my chest, I ran, stumbled, got up and continued running even barely seeing where I was going with the tears running down my cheeks. I got out of the Deadheads, under various confused and curious eyes, but I didn't care. Just one pair of eyes mattered, and as soon as I found them, I threw myself into Newt's arms without caring about anything else but the inexplicable security his embrace gave me.

“Frankie?” Newt asked, a little surprised and frightened, as he hugged me tightly in order to ward off sobs. “What happened?”

I pulled away from Newt a little, still holding the cloth loose in front of my chest, breathing deeply and heavily as I tried to regain my composure to say anything. But, before any words left my mouth, Newt had his reaction. He looked me up and down, making me ashamed and his eyes widened when he realized my miserable situation. In a quick movement, Newt tore the scabbard from his machete, throwing it anyway on the floor at his feet. I was confused, until he took off the long-sleeved blouse he wears on a daily basis, showing a brownish T-shirt and slightly hidden muscles.

In the next instant, I found myself raising my arms by force and Newt's shirt was running over my head. When she settled herself largely on my body, the smell of sweat, earth and cologne calmed my heart by the simple fact that it was Newt's scent.

“Frankie, tell me what happened!” Newt pleaded, holding my shoulders and shaking them slightly.

“G-Greg, he...” I tried to say, indicating the Deadheads behind me, before my voice disappeared.

But it hadn't been necessary. A howl came from the woods, and I knew it came from Greg. I was startled by the noise, pressing against Newt in an impulsive movement. I hugged him tightly, relaxing a little when he, although confused, hugged me back. A movement on the edge of Deadheads caught our attention and Newt hugged me tighter in a reflexive and protective act, while I cowered in his comfort.

Among the skeletal trees, Minho appeared with a fierce expression on his face and Greg in front of him, trying to free himself from the improvised handcuffs with ropes. While being dragged by Minho and Alby - who had come to find out what was going on and had finally helped - towards the Slammer, Greg looked in my direction despite his face swollen by the beating. A sadistic, impure look that gave me such a high level of disgust that I wanted to pluck my reddened skin from his stabbing touch. I avoided looking while he was arrested, so I buried my face in Newt's chest again.

“What happened, Minho?” I heard him ask, and I looked up to see Minho and Alby already beside us.

I wanted to open my mouth to thank him for saving me, but when nothing came out I realized I was still crying. Alby indicated that we followed him to the Homestead, so we didn’t attract more attention to me and for the first time, I agreed to something he said. We entered the Homestead, with Newt still holding me, and I realized that the council was there too. They settled on the floor in a half-moon shape and, although I thought they would do it upstairs, I realized that a Conclave would start.

“We gather here in a emergency to decide Greg's situation.” Began Alby. “Although I still don’t trust the newbie, she is now a Glader and, as the rules say, it is forbidden to hurt another Glader. Each of you will be entitled to your turn. We will respect all opinions and consider everything that each one says and we will reach a conclusion. Minho, tell us what you saw.”

Minho threw a sympathetic look at me quickly before beginning his narrative.

“Frankie had promised to say goodbye to me and Ben every time we went to the Maze, but I thought it was a little strange when I didn't see her on the edge of Deadheads. I went looking for her and when I found her near the cemetery, Greg was on top of her trying to...” He swallowed hard. “Abusing her...”

A sob was heard and I realized it was mine. My eyes hazed up and my fingers were shaking. Winston, Gally and most of the other Keepers looked at me with pity, which made me cringe more towards Newt.

“Newt, take her upstairs to calm down.” Said Alby, possibly in the best act of compassion for me.

I felt Newt nodding and then he lifted me up next to him. He guided me up the stairs to the top floor, looking like he already had a destination in mind. When he passed me through one of the doors where I thought he was his room, I finally got out of my trance state and had a concrete reaction that wasn't just crying. I took off the shirt Newt had put on me and, in a fit of pure fury, I started to scratch my skin. I felt hatred and disgust with myself. I hated feeling weak and Greg had made me feel worthless and helpless. I hated him for doing this to me and I hate myself for allowing it. I looked at my skin and purple hickeys on my breast and howled with pure hatred as I scratched myself, hoping to rip off the desecrated skin with my nails. My psychological state was already seriously compromised and I was afraid that the images I had seen would never release me from this trauma. I started to scratch my arms too, not caring that red lines started to appear and my nails were dyed. I cared even less if I stayed raw. Maybe it was even better than feeling invaded and violated.

I felt strong hands holding me, preventing me from continuing with my self-destruction. With adrenaline still pumping through my veins, I tried to break free from Newt, screaming for freedom. I struggled as much as I did with Greg. But, unlike him, Newt didn't move, just held me, his breath hitting the back of my neck and making me shiver.

“Let me go, please.” I asked, my voice hoarse from crying.

“I won't let you go, Frankie.” Said Newt, and his carefully calm voice had an almost instantaneous effect on me. “I will always want your good, I will not give up.”

Gradually, I managed to calm down and Newt guided me to the bed. He left me leaning against the headboard and went back to pick up the shirt on the floor. When he handed it to me, I dressed it without question, while he sat across from me. I pulled my legs up and hugged them, resting my chin on my knees. I closed my eyes, trying to block the images that came to my mind. I felt Newt's breath coming closer and for a moment mine became uneven until I felt his lips on my forehead. Newt moved away from me, and I opened my eyes, seeing him still close.

“I'll take care of you, Frankie, I promise.” he whispered, his brown eyes staring at me intently.

I smiled, unable to find my voice to thank him, and leaned over to hug him. Not that hug of despair that begged for comfort. It was a hug of thanks, and Newt didn’t hesitate to respond. He didn't move away from me and I didn't insist until we heard a knock on the door. Newt stepped away minimally, just enough to shout an “come in”. Minho came through the door, looking a little upset, but trying to disguise that fact.

“Have you finished the Conclave already?” Asked Newt, looking a little surprised. “I didn't even hear screams from those klunks!”

“Because they didn't.” Minho replied, sitting on the edge of the mattress. “I never thought anything like this would happen.”

“What? Minho, what happened?” I asked, sitting up straighter, looking forward to his reply.

“The decision was almost unanimous.” Minho finally said. “Greg will be banned at dusk.

~ * ~

The moment Alby untied the leash, I knew I couldn't stand watching it. But my feet were planted on the ground, and I couldn't get out of the crowd of boys watching Greg's banishment. The collar was tied around Greg's neck the moment he looked through the boys around me and looked at me with a look of pure insanity and desire. I didn't even know if I could cry anymore that day. No one said a word, and although I knew that Greg would be killed by the Griviers since no one had survived a night in the Maze, I was afraid I was still in danger.

Greg kept his gaze on me and Chuck, beside me, took my hand. Alby pulled on his collar to make sure he was well attached to the long pole in his hand. He ran his fingers along its length and when he reached its base, he waved back with his hands. The post seemed to be about six meters and the aluminum tip was curved in the middle, but only a little.

“Greg of the Builders.” Said Alby aloud, finally breaking the silence that had been installed by the tension of the situation. “You were sentenced to Banishment for attempting to rape Frankie the Newbie. The Keepers spoke, and their word does not change. Unanimous decision and you will never return. In charge, take your place on the Bane Pole.”

I shuddered when his words reached my ear, saying for the first time the clarity of what had happened to me as the worst experience I have ever had in my life, including the one before Box. One by one, boys came out of the crowd and among them I recognized Newt, Minho, Winston and Gally. As soon as the ten Keepers were evenly spaced on the post, all I wanted was for it to end at once. The tension in the air and the weight on my chest felt too much for me to take. The East Door began to close, with a loud noise and sparks coming out of the stone. The ground shook and I squeezed Chuck's hand tighter. The post was pushed by the Keepers and the crowd of boys looked surprised when Greg offered no resistance. Soon he was more than a meter out of the Glade. At the last second, the Keeper at the front loosened the wider bar, detaching it from the part attached to Greg and, pulling it back to the Glade, left it to the Banishment.

Before the Doors closed completely, Greg was able to say a single sentence while looking directly at me.

“I just regret not having finished.”

I was horrified even after the Doors closed completely between me and Greg. The crowd dispersed and all I could do was to stay there like a dead weight. I didn’t disagree with that point of view, but my muscles couldn’t move. When I found my will again, Newt was already in front of me, looking at me with concern. I looked at him, feeling my irregular breathing and a lonely tear running down my right cheek.

“Newt.” Alby approached after dispersing the crowd. “Your responsibility.” He said to Newt, looking just like wanting to reinforce something that had already been said.

Newt nodded and Alby waved at me before walking away.

“Come on, Frankie.” Called Newt, his voice sweet. “You sleep in my room from now on.”

(CHAPTER SUMMARY: Greg The Bilder tried to abuse Frankie while she slept in the Deadheads, but Minho came in time to save her. He told her to go look for Newt and she did. The was a Conclave to decide Greg destiny, but while Minho as telling the Keepers what happened, Frankie was still in shock and Newt took her to a room so she didn’t have to relive it. She freaked out in there and Newt told her he would take care of her. Minho came after them a while after, telling that the decision was unanimous and Greg would be banished. The final part was the banishment and Newt saying that Frankie would sleep in his room from now on instead of in the open.)

[niallismymuse]

Longing

The bell attached to the door of the cafe jingled, and your eyes shot up from the book you were reading to look at it. Just like you had suspected, Niall Horan strode inside of it, those baby blue eyes meeting yours as he gave you a cheeky wink and strode up to the counter. His loud voice echoed throughout the cafe, and your cheeks warmed as you watched him.

You slid your book back into your bag and stood as Niall approached the table, a plate with a delicious looking cannoli placed upon it. He set the plate down and kissed your cheek. “Morning, love,” he greeted you, and you returned the sentiment before sitting down.

“Your accent thickened from visiting home,” you commented, placing your chin delicately on your hand, looking across the table at Niall. He looked good today - though he always looked good. He wore a white t-shirt with his sunglasses attached to it, and a brown leather jacket over it. His brunette hair was tousled just so, and merely looking at him made your stomach feel warm and fuzzy. “How are your Ma and Da?”

“Bein’ back amongst my people does help,” he chuckled, before cutting into his cannoli and stabbing a bite with his fork. Niall offered it to you, but you declined with a wave of your hand, letting him enjoy it instead. “Me Ma and Da are good. Both are happy. And I saw Greg too! You should see the size of Theo...”

Niall continued talking animatedly, hands moving quickly as he made his points. You loved to see him like this - happy, in his element. You continued to listen, taking a sip of the overpriced cappuccino you had ordered earlier.

Things between the two of you had been...different, three weeks ago. They had changed - all because of a drunken kiss that hadn’t been mentioned since. Your heart sang and sunk every time you thought about it. You and Niall were so close; surely that hadn’t ruined everything, right? But at the same time, maybe it had been a good thing. Your crush on him wasn’t exactly new.

Unfortunately, Niall had jetted off to Ireland the next day after your kiss, and neither of you had brought it up. It hadn’t felt right to mention it over text, so you hadn’t. Now, maybe, you could sort things out. Even though the thought of that made your skin prickle with nerves, and your stomach flip.

A comfortable silence lolled, and you decided to bring it up. “Hey, Niall-”

Suddenly, his phone rang. Niall looked at it, and then at you. “Hang on just a second,” he said, holding up a single finger, and then he answered it.

You sighed deeply, disappointment and the slightest bit of relief clouding your mind. Niall chatted for a few minutes, and kept looking at you and making ‘they talk on and on’ gestures, and eventually hung up. “What were you sayin’, love?”

You shook your head, having already made your mind up not to mention it. You had lost your nerve. “Nothing, nothing. Carry on, yeah?”

Soon, your little cafe session was over. Niall appeared distracted as you both stood up, as if he was already thinking of what he would do next. “See ya around, love,” he murmured distantly, before pressing a kiss to your cheek. You were about to reply in the same, but stopped - his eyes were already on the door, and a second later, the rest of him was through it.

Something in your chest twinged. But you tamped that feeling down deep, and left for home.

I can’t wait to see ya again! ;)

When you read the text, you could hardly believe it. Was the winky face a mistake, or had he really meant to send it? Niall had sent the text two hours ago, and hadn’t sent anything else.

You smiled so hard your cheeks hurt. Those butterflies were right back, fluttering inside of your stomach.

You typed back quickly, thumbs flying over the keys: ‘Want to hang out tonight? :)’

The butterflies crashed and died. They were squashed by big, ugly boots, and several other euphemisms for hope dying.

Niall had never responded to your text message, but when you went on Snapchat later that evening, a glass of wine in hand, he was all over that. With another girl. A brunette beauty. They were smiling and laughing and dancing, and his hand stayed firmly on her waist, even as the drinks in his other hand shifted and changed.

You cried. You cried into the cushions of your couch, and when you could finally stop gasping enough to breath, you choked down the rest of your wine. It burned all the way down.

It didn’t matter that there were no images of them kissing. That possessive grip on the stranger’s waist was enough. Not only that, but you had sent your text hours ago, and there was no reason he wouldn’t have seen it, especially with the Snapchat action. So he either ignored it outright, or read it and decided not to respond.

And that hurt. It hurt so badly you couldn’t quite remember how it felt to not hurt. So you downed another glass of wine and fell asleep on the couch, tear streaks staining the couch.

You avoided Niall for as long as you could. You two weren’t attached at the hip, so it took him about three days to realize you were ignoring him. That spawned a flurry of text messages, a couple Snaps, and even a call or two. You didn’t answer any of them - seeing his name made your stomach clench and a nauseous feeling spread through your entire being. What would hearing his voice or reading his words do to you?

That didn’t stop Niall from coming to you.

On a Saturday afternoon, you woke up from a fitful nap to the sound of pounding on your door. You yawned and stumbled towards it, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. You were still in pajamas, a light sweater placed over your shoulders. Your hair was placed in a knot on top of his head.

You opened the door, and stared when you saw Niall in front of you in the doorway. Your jaw dropped open, and a storm of emotions swirled inside of you: anger, sadness, and just the tiniest hit of glee. He had come to see you, unprompted.

“Love? Are ya okay?” Niall’s eyes wildly swept up and down your form, noticing the rumpled clothes, the dirty, messy hair, the bags under your eyes. “Jesus, ya look ill. Ya could have called me. Thought ya were dead.” An uneasy chuckle burst past his lips.

You merely looked at him, feeling your heart thumping hard in your chest. The silence stretched on, and you wetted your lips, before blurting out, “I’m not sick.”

Niall’s brows knit together. “So what are ya, then?”

Maybe it was dramatic of you, but the words spilled from your lips before you could stop them. “I’m heartbroken. We kissed, and then you fucking disappeared to Ireland without saying a word about it. And when we met, I tried to talk to you about it, and it didn’t work out. Then I thought, for some stupid reason, that you wanted to hang out with me! And you chose someone else. You went out with her, with no explanation whatsoever. So forgive me if I’m trying to move on,” you seethed, crossing your arms over your chest.

Niall’s lips parted you, and he stared at you, eyes flickering with yours. You didn’t give in, or back down. You wanted to cry, but you stayed strong, and fought the burning in your eyes.

Then he sighed, and looked down, running his fingers through his hair. “Her name’s Daisy,” Niall whispered softly, so quietly you weren’t entirely sure that you were meant to hear it.

Your heart stood still in your chest. “What?” You asked, voice dangerously low.

Niall looked back up at you, his brows furrowed and his lower lip almost jutted out, like he was a kicked puppy. “Her name...it’s Daisy. And it’s...it’s complicated, love.”

You shook your head, that rage building back up inside of you, followed by a nauseating sickness. “So make it uncomplicated. Or here, I’ll do it for you. I’ve been pining after you for too long, Niall. Her or me.” Your eyes met his as he sucked in a deep breath, and you could see the indecision in his eyes.

That settled it then. You stepped back, and grabbed the door. Niall swallowed, seeing what was to come. He stepped back from the door, eyes still locked on yours as he stuck his hands into his pockets.

You slammed the door shut in his face, and then locked it for good measure.

You didn’t want to admit it, but you waited. You waited for three days, spent at work and then on the couch. You rejected offers from friends and coworkers alike to go out, preferring to stay in and drink wine by yourself.

You waited for him. Niall was mysteriously silent on social media, no new updates or pictures or anything going up on any of his many profiles. He never called you, either, or texted.

So you waited for him.

And he didn’t come back.

[thetwinstarsau-blog]

Chapter One - Laser Light Cannon

This was long overdue.

“Give me the bits!” cried Steven Universe as he banged his fists on the counter. It may not seem like the average day to beg the fryman for a bunch of unwanted fry bits, with the sky a reddish-orange and hour after the sun actually went down, but weird stuff happened in Beach City all of the time. Besides, Amethyst didn’t look too worried, so it seemed there was no reason for being concerned.

Mr. Fryman walked up to the worn-down counter, resting his hands on it as he looked at Amethyst, Steven, and his twin sister Nora. “Kids, we’re closed,” he frowned.

“Give him the bits!” Amethyst shouted. She started a chant, shouting “The bits! The bits! The bits!” Soon enough, the three of them we’re crying for fry bits as they slammed their hands on the counter.

Mr. Fryman gave up, frowning as he said, “Easy on the counter!” and went to the back of the shop to prepare a fresh batch of fry bits. “You know I can get you guys real fries…”

“Just the bits, please!” Nora said happily, smiling as Mr. Fryman handed Steven the bag of fry bits. Steven said a quick thanks before the three of them headed back to ge temple, grabbing handfuls of the greasy treat.

“Ahh, sunset, my favorite time of day,” Steven said through a handful of bits. “When the sun goes down, and the second sun gets bigger and bigger in the sky.” He stared at his “sun” with his starry eyes as Nora giggled, grabbing another handful.

Amethyst coughed on her mouthful and laughed at the thought, wiping her mouth. “Yeah,” she snickered. “That big, hot, second su--” She gasped and looked at the big ball of reddish-white light nestled in the sky. “Oh no! What is that doing here?”

Nora swallowed and looked at Amethyst curiously. “Huh? What’s wrong?”

Amethyst threw Steven on one shoulder and Nora on the other with a “humph!” and raced towards the temple. Steven cried for his bits as the bag slipped out of his hands, and the twins held on to the purple gem as she ran off. “Garnet! Pearl!” she shouted when they were in her vision.

Pearl smirked at her as she set the twins on the ground. “We saw,” she said flatly. “Some of us are trying to protect humanity. Where were you?”

“Eating fry bits,” Amethyst shrugged. Pearl gave herself a face-palm as she directed her gaze to the thing in the sky once more.

“Can I see?” Nora asked, grabbing the telescope and looking through it. The ball’s outer shell opened, revealing a pattern that made it look sort of like an eye. “Woah,” she stared. “What is it?”

“It’s a giant eyeball!” Steven exclaimed when he looked through the telescope himself. “Awesome!” He grinned.

“Not awesome!” Pearl cried, throwing her arms up in the air. She motioned to it with a look of fear. “It’s a Red Eye!!”

“A red eye?” Steven gasped, a look of panic spreading across his face. “It’s going to infect us all!!”

“That’s ‘pink-eye’, Steven,” Garnet smirked, making Amethyst snicker and Nora giggle.

“It’s going to crash into Beach City and crush us, along with a bunch of innocent, oblivious people. We have to stop it!” Pearl said with a look of determination.

“What are we going to do?” Nora asked, worried, glancing at Steven and then back at Pearl.

“The only thing powerful enough to destroy it,” Garnet started, adjusting her shades. “Is a light cannon that belonged to Rose Quartz.”

“Mom?” Steven raised his eyebrows and looked at Nora. The both of them looked at AMethyst when she cried out in frustration.

“Ugh! If Rose were here, this would be so easy!” Amethyst glared at the sky.

“I know,” Pearl said sadly, “but she’s not, and the cannon is missing. We’ll have to find another solution.”

“If it belonged to Mom, I bet my dad knows where it is,” Steven said, smiling. “He can help us save the day!”

“Yeah!” Nora nodded. “Dad has a ton of stuff, I heard. Why wouldn't he have a giant space cannon?”

Pearl smirked and folded her hands. “Greg is…” she faltered, glancing at Garnet. “Nice, kids. But I doubt Rose would entrust someone like him with such a powerful weapon.”

“Guys, your dad is kind of a mess,” Amethyst said flatly, putting her hand on Steven’s shoulder and looking at the twins.

“Amethyst!” Pear hissed angrily. “Rude!”

“I’m just sayin’,” Amethyst shrugged. “Even if she did leave it with him, he probably broke it, or lost it, or dropped it in the ocean by now.”

“True.” Garnet nodded.

“No way!” Nora frowned. “This is Dad we’re talking about.”

“I’m sure he’s just keeping it somewhere safe,” Steven insisted. “I’ll go ask him.”

“I’ll come!” Nora waved her hand in the air.

“Kids, we can handle this,” Garnet said, walking over to Amethyst, “Ready?”

Amethyst gave a firm nod. Garnet picked her up and jumped in the air, doing a flip and throwing her hard at the Red Eye. She traveled fast and far, but hit the Red Eye with a dull thunk and slipped off of its surface, falling down into the ocean.

“Uh…” Nora grabbed Steven’s hand and took a step backwards. “We’re gonna go talk to Dad.”

“Okay, good luck,” Pearl frowned at the sky and gave a dull wave as the twins ran off.

Once the kids got to their dad’s van, the started pounding on it. “Dad!” Steven shouted, banging on the van. “Daaaad! It’s us!” Nora echoed. Steven climbed on top of the van while Nora continued to knock on the side of the van. “Dad! Are you in there!?” Steven cried. “Wake up! We’re gonna save the world!”

Steven fell backwards on top of the van after jumping, triggering the car alarm. Steven smiled in success and gave a thumbs-up to her sister as Greg bolted out of the van.

“Who’s there?” Greg called. “I have a waffle iron!” he exclaimed, waving it around in the air.

“Dad, it’s us!” Steven spoke up from the top of the van while Nora waved, the both of them grinning. Greg blinked the exhaustion out of his eyes and shut off the car alarm. “Steven?” he looked over to see Nora smiling as well. “Nora?”

Steven jumped off of the van as the twins darted in for a hug. Greg gave them a tired smile after they stepped back. “I almost waffled your face!” he realized, looking at Nora. “What are you two doing up so late?”

Nora giggled. “The sun just went down an hour ago, Dad.”

He blushed, giving a tired smile. “Oh,” he chuckled. “It’s been a slow day at the car wash,” he explained, scratching his head. “What are you guys up to?”

“There was this thing Mom used to have--a cannon,” Nora said.

“We wanted to see if you had it somewhere, so we could blow up the giant eyeball in the sky!” Steven exclaimed.

Greg’s eyes widened. “Eyeball?” he turned around and gasped. In the distance Amethyst was thrown for an additional time, only to slide off of the surface once more. “Wait!” Greg turned around to face the twins. “That’s got to be some magical thing. The gems told me to keep away when it came to stuff like that. It could be dangerous, or it might interfere with what’s left of my hair.”

“But Dad! It was something Mom had!” Nora said. “You’ve got to have it somewhere…”

“Well, I suppose there is a place,” Greg gave them a smile.

Greg drove them over to a storage shed on the other side of the town and led them out. “A magical storage unit!” Steven cried in excitement as him and Nora ran to the shed happily.

“Well, not exactly,” Greg shrugged. “But some would say there’s magic inside,” he winked.

The twins gave him a blank, expectant look.

“It’s just a shed I use to keep all of the stuff that won’t fit in the van,” he explained, opening it. “If it’s anywhere, it’ll be in here.”

He pulled the shed door up, revealing a room absolutely stuffed with boxes and other miscellaneous junk. Steven and Nora exclaimed in excitement at it’s revealing. “Wait!” Nora said before Steven could say anything. She held three fingers and counted them down. “It’s like a dad museum!” they exclaimed together.

Greg chuckled as they stepped inside. Nora tried to move a box, but more boxes fell. She frowned at the chaos that is Greg’s storage shed, trying to think her way through them.

“If we’re gonna go in there,” Steven looked at his twined with a face of determination. “We’re gonna need some gear.”

Nora gave a determined nod, and they went off to search for tools. Nora tied a flashlight on the top of Steven’s head with a sock, and Steven found an old key chain with a flashlight for her, which she clipped onto an old hemp necklace. They found an electric cord that they tied around Steven’s waste, so when they find the cannon, they could pull it back easier. Nora darted in with a “Mission Cannon is a go!” and Steven followed her in with a laugh.

There was actually quite a lot of space in the shed, despite it’s congested look from the front. The flashlights’ light gave the shed a mystical, eerie look, making every object inside dramatic and special. “Woah” Steve breathed, moving his head to shine the light into different areas. “Cooool!” Nora gasped.

Steven squeezed himself between two mattresses while Nora ducked under a bridge of boxes. Steven saw a silhouette that looks like a cannon and shouted “There it is!”

“Really!?” Nora called back, crawling over a stack of totes to see Steven dump out a gold bag. Steve frowned and yelled “Dad! You played golf?”

“I’d like to think myself as a person who would gold… eventually.”

Nora turned around and called “Yes!” as she stepped up to another cylinder and brushed other junk off of it, only to reveal itself as a drum. “Dang it,” she grumbled. “Steven, it’s just one of Dad’s old drums!”

“Really?” He slammed his hand on it, making a dull thud. They giggled before continuing on their search.

Steven jumped over a bat of garbage while Nora moved the drum and dug through the boxes behind it.

“Is this…?” Steven gasped while opening a box, pulling out a gun-like cannon. “Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh!!!” he aimed it and shot, making Nora jump and run over to see what it was.

She pulled a t-shirt off of a box and stared at it. “Buy T-Shirt Cannons?” She threw it back on the ground and looked in the box it had landed on. “Steven! I found a bunch of Dad’s old CDs!”

“Oh, neat!” Steven smiled.

“Huh?” Greg called. “Oh man, I couldn’t give those things away. Y’know, before I ran the car wash, when I was a one-man band, I traveled all across the country.”

“We know, Dad,” Nora said, giggling while Steven pocketed a copy of his CD.

“When I came to play a concert here in Beach City, no one showed up, except--”

“A PIRATE!” Nora shouted at the same time Steven shouted “AN ALLIGATOR!”

“No, it was your mother!”

“I know!” Steven chuckled as they crawled through Greg’s maze.

“...we were always together after that, until she gave up her physical form to bring you guys into the world. Man, I don’t know what a magic lady like her ever saw in a plain ol’ dope like me.”

“Oh no!” Steven cried, picking up a broken photo frame. “Dad, I accidentally broke a photo of you and Mom…”

“Woah, let me see!” Nora exclaimed, running over to Steven and grabbing the frame.

“That’s okay,” Greg called. “If every porkchop were perfect, we wouldn’t have hot dogs!”

Steven chuckled at the familiar phrase as Nora gasped, pointing at a cylinder at the back of the room that glowed pink. “Steven, look!” she whispered. “The light cannon!”

“Dad, we found it!” he cried joyfully.

“Really!?”

Steven and Nora tied the electrical cord around the cannon. “Get the van!” Steven called.

Greg turned on the van after he had attached the other end of the cord and pressed the gas. The light cannon only came out after everything else came with it, falling out of its cubical heap. Greg and the twins ran towards each other and stared at the cannon in shock.

“This thing could save the city! We have to get it to the beach!” Steven rushed.

“I’m not sure it’ll fit in the van!” Greg said, looking to and fro for a solution.

“What about that wagon?” Nora pointed at a small red wagon. Steven nodded, and the three of them struggled to lift the cannon over and into the wagon, even so, they dropped it in, and it broke through the bottom. They shrugged and attached it to the van and went on their way.

“What is with that thing?” Greg muttered glancing between the Red Eyes and the road. “It’s really freaking me out!”

“Can’t this thing go any faster?” Nora popped her head out from the back seat, looking frantic.

Greg pressed the gas as hard as he could, and it only went up a couple miles per hour. “This is faster!”

Steven frowned. “I know! Maybe we could listen to your old CD!” he said, pulling it out of his pocket.

“You grabbed it!” Nora cheered as Greg blushed at the mention of it. “Dad, can we listen to it? Pleeeaaase?”

“C’mon, you ‘ve listened to that CD a million times,” Greg tried to smile, but it broke as he looked up at the sky again.

“You c’mon!” Steven smiled and slid it into the CD slot. A classic guitar into rung out of the speakers. Nora and Steven grinned while Greg kept his eyes on the road.

I know I’m not that tall

I know I’m not that smart

“So let me drive my van into your heart!” Steven burst into song. Greg looked over at the twins in shock before giving a weak smile.

“Let me drive my van into your heart!” Nora continued, and the two gave each other smiles as Greg drove the van and the cannon through the sleepy beach town, where the occasional citizen was outside staring at the sky in confusion and or panic.

I know I’m not that rich,

I’m try’na get my start

So let me drive my van into your heart!

Let me drive my van into your heart!

Greg pulled out in front of the temple, where Amethyst was crawling out of the ocean. “Throw me again!” she shouted as Greg and the kids got out of the van. “I think I’m cracking it!”

Steven waved as the gems ran over. Pearl gasped, covering her mouth in shock. “The cannon!” she stared. “He really had it!”

“We’re SAVED!” Amethyst yelled thankfully.

The wind kicked up, almost toppling the gems. Greg took the wagon off of the van, but the van started sliding towards the Eye, with Greg attempting to pull it backwards.

“What do we do?” Nora cried, looking between the cannon and the gems.

“Gah! Only Rose knew how to activate--her gem! One of--” Pearl looked between the twins. She groaned, pulling back her hair. “That’s not gonna work until--”

Amethyst lifted Nora up and slammed her on the cannon, the wind stinging with the sand. “We’ll try em’ both, okay?” she shouted, rubbing the half-gem against the cannon. She gave up and went for the other twin while Nora slammed on the cannon with her fists.

“C’mon, cannon! Unlcok! Activate! Go!” Nora yelled, punching the cannon with both fists. “Everyone’s counting on you to blow the Red Eye up! Please!”

“It’s okay, Nora!” Greg called. “It’s okay if you can’t get it to activate. We’ll figure something else out--something even better!”

“Yeah!” Steven said, yanking himself out of Amethyst’s grasp and giving Nora’s hand a squeeze. “I-if every porkchop were perfect, we wouldn’t have hot dogs.”

The light cannon glowed once more, a bright, stunning, almost nostalgic tone of pink before falling to the ground. The twins gasped, running over to the cannon and sliding their arms under it, pulling it up slightly--but it still wasn’t enough. The cannon wasn’t high enough to hit the Red Eye. Suddenly the weight was lifted off of their shoulders, and the twins turned around to face the Gems.

“You guys did it!” Amethyst cried.

“Well done!” shouted Pearl.

Garnet changed her stance and lifted the cannon a little higher. “Brace yourselves!”

The cannon glowed even brighter, until it was bright enough to blind them. It fired, a beam of light shot towards the Red Eye, the light at the end forming into a massive, blinding, shaped woman with curly long hair. Her hand was raised to the Eye, tinier, smoother beams of light with thorns surrounding her and aiding her efforts. She crashed into the eye with a powerful sound, knocking back the Gems and the twins. The pupil and iris shattered, and they stared in awe as it exploded in a flash of its own bright light. The sky dulled to a dark blue as the Eye’s light faded into nothing.

“HECK YEAH!” Amethyst shouted, punching the sky. “You guys just saved most of Beach City!”

“How did you get it to work?” Pearl asked, raising an eyebrow at the twins.

“I just said that thing Dad always says…” Steven answered.

“That thing about pork rinds?” she scoffed.

Garnet put her hand on Pearl’s shoulder. “Hot dogs,” she said, smiling.

“Rose…” Greg breathed, smiling at the moon shining on the dark beach.

The tide suddenly came in, leaving the Gems and Greg deep in the water laughing, relieved that the Red Eye was gone, and it couldn’t come back. The van, though, was taken by the current, drifting away from the beach. Greg waded through the water, attempting to chase it. “My van!”

“It’s okay, Dad!” Steven called.

“Yeah,” Nora nodded. “If every porkchop were perfect--”

“I LIVE IN THERE!” he shouted. Steven and Nora giggled as they chased their father into the waters, happy that this magical adventure had succeeded.

[mandysimo13]

Chapter 7 - Where is My Gallant Knight

Chapter 7 is up, guys, gals, and non-binary pals! This one is a doozie and a long one so I hope you folks enjoy! I’m just so giddy after writing this I can’t stand it! - Also on AO3 (X)

It was no surprise to John that he woke up with an armful of Sherlock. His chest fluttered with fondness but tightened immediately with guilt. He had been so close to taking advantage of his charge and John felt himself frown as he looked down on the sleeping man. It didn’t matter that Sherlock was a grown man, fully capable of making his own decisions. He came into Sherlock’s life because of a job. A job he was well on the way to finishing. That job did not include seducing Sherlock before dropping him off at his doorstep.

But that didn’t stop him from wanting it desperately.

Sherlock shifted in John’s arms, clearly still asleep, and a new wave of guilt invaded John as he watched Sherlock dream. Knowing he should give the man some privacy, John started to slide backwards and out of the bed but Sherlock’s arms tightened around his torso, preventing his escape. He whined softly in protest and John settled down into the mattress again for fear of waking him. Wanting to soothe him, John brushed the hair back from Sherlock’s face, noting the frown lines creasing his brow. Clearly, whatever his dream was, it was not a pleasant one. Sherlock whimpered once more and burrowed his face into John’s neck.

“Shh,” John cooed softly, stroking the man’s hair as Sherlock’s dream further distressed him. “I’m here.”

“Juuh,” Sherlock’s drowsy voice huffed into his neck. “Nnnno.”

John’s eyes widened. Was Sherlock dreaming of him? “Juh” could be the beginning of any number of words, not just his name. It could be coincidence.

John weighed the pros and cons of waking him. On one hand, he was probably going to be hungover and needed all the rest he could get. By the way the sun glinted in the window, they already lost a good head start of the day anyway and a couple more hours wouldn’t make much of a difference at this rate. But what if he was scared in his dream, his mind countered. You could comfort him while he was awake. Then he thought of how they needed to find Greg and resupply for the next leg of their journey.

All thought ceased, however, as he felt Sherlock’s lips press meaningfully into his neck. John stilled as if frozen. The skin on his neck tingled where Sherlock’s lips ghosted over him just above the collar of his shirt. It was apparent that whatever dream Sherlock had been having turned from a nightmare into something else entirely and John was both loathed to end it and wanted it to keep going. Sherlock’s fingers clutched the fabric tightly on John’s chest and the unmistakable feel of warm, hard flesh through two layers of fabric pressed into his stomach. Sherlock’s hips twitched minutely and then the decision to wake Sherlock was taken out of his hands.

Sherlock gasped awake. He went from warm and pliant to marblesque in the span of a second and loathed to feel the exchange from asleep to awake. From unconscious desire to waking regret.

Maybe he hadn’t been dreaming of me , John thought sadly.

Silence enveloped them and stretched out in unbearably long minutes until John broke it. “Good dream, I take it,” he teased, hoping Sherlock found the prod humorous.

Sherlock cleared his throat but refused to move his face from the security of John’s neck. “It was enjoyable, yes.”

“Dare I ask what it was about?”

Rather than answer, Sherlock scrambled over John to stalk towards the door to make an escape. John sat up, mouth open to stop Sherlock’s retreat but he was spared the need. Hand outstretched to turn the knob, Sherlock suddenly realized his state of dress and realized that, unless he wanted to scandalize the scullery maids, he would need to put clothes on. Greg’s nightshirt, while comfortable, was not at all suitable for public appearances.

John watched him as he snatched up his discarded clothes. He quickly jammed his legs into the trousers before whipping off Greg’s shirt and tossing it in John’s direction. It landed on the bed just as Sherlock brought the hem of his shirt over his head and settled it over his stomach. Another quick dart of his arms brought him his boots and he strode out the door barefoot and quite disheveled.

Once the door closed, John flopped back down onto the mattress and with a deep groan he pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes.

“Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck,” John cursed to the empty room.

He kicked off the covers and quickly dressed himself. He took the extra time to do up his boots and shrug on his doublet and grab Sherlock’s as well before leaving their room. He sighed, knowing they would need to rent for another night. They still needed to resupply and he was sure it was nearing midday. No sense at riding off at this point, John scowled internally.

John made his way down the stairs and into the common room to find Greg happily munching away on food. Sherlock was nowhere to be found.

When Greg caught sight of John he waved him over and then waved over his girl from the night before. “Penny, this is my friend and employer, Sir John Watson.”

John made a bow and said, “how do you do, miss?”

“You’re The Sir John?! From the stories?!”

John nodded, uncharacteristically shy. Sherlock bolting had left him more vulnerable than usual and he felt his ears warm in embarrassment. “That I am. At your service.”

Penny perched herself in Greg’s lap and gave him a sultry look. “Should’a been at your service last night.”

“Oi! Weren’t hearing any complaints from you last night, missy,” Greg complained.

“Ooh, of course not,” Penny soothed, kissing him full on the lips.

“As touching as this is,” John gestured between the two, “have you see Sherlock?”

“Yeah,” Lestrade jabbed a thumb towards the door. “Saw him bolt outta here barefoot without his jacket. What’d you do?”

“Why does everything have to be my fault,” John asked rhetorically, dropping into the chair opposite Greg and put his head in his hands.

“Penny, dear,” Greg said, “would you mind getting Sir John a plate?”

“Of course.”

When she was gone Greg addressed John. “Look, I’m not blind. Something’s going on between you two, just admit it.”

“Nothing to admit,” John answered honestly. “We haven’t done anything.”

“Except wake up in each other’s arms every morning. And bicker like an old married couple. And tell each other stories of your childhood, even if I know you’re not telling him everything. Not to mention ignoring all else but yourselves this entire time.”

John frowned. “I didn’t mean to ignore you,” John said, chastised.

“I won’t say it doesn’t smart sometimes. But I get it. That’s part of the squire game, John. I’m used to being scenery.”

“You’re more than scenery, Greg.”

“We’re not talking about me here, John. We’re talking about you and Sherlock and this... thing you two have.”

“Which is nothing,” John said firmly.

“So sure of that are you?” John nodded and Greg sighed. Penny returned with John’s plate and made herself scarce, knowing she was not welcome in the conversation. “Think about it. Do you really think that he’d still be here, letting you wrap your tentacly arms around him every night if he didn’t feel something, too?”

“He’s the one with the tentacle arms,” John decreed. “I never initiate the cuddling.”

“And yet there you are, every morning, happily snoring into his ear and he lets you. I love you, John, but the only time you and I ever cuddled was for warmth when we were adventuring in the unforgiving north in winter. And that was more out of survival than desire to hold you close.” Then he speared a bit of sausage and grinned at him before taking a bite. “Not that you weren’t a pleasure to spoon with, mind.”

John snorted a laugh despite himself. “Prick.” He stabbed into his own sausage and hummed in pleasure at having something in his stomach.

“In all seriousness. You should think about this before you go dismissing the signs, mate.”

“I have thought about this. You were there. He punched me and shouted that I was unwelcome to touch him. And while we’ve been friendly so far on this trip that doesn’t mean he wants me for anything. We don’t know if his magic has recharged itself, he could just be waiting until it is to go running off again. He hasn’t expressed interest in me, or “us”, while being awake. Some people like to cuddle and will do it to a troll while asleep. Means nothing.”

Greg just shrugged and didn’t press the point. They ate quietly for a few moments before he pointed at Sherlock’s forgotten doublet on the back of John’s chair. “Why’d you bring that?”

John cast a glance at it and shrugged. “Thought he’d stick around long enough for me to give it to him. He walked off without it and I felt bad, him running out half dressed.” Greg nodded and they finished their meal in peace.

After they ate they called for Millie and told her they’d be using the room for one more night. Not much later, the two made their way to the shops to stock up supplies for the next leg of their journey. Half bushel of apples, few wheels of cheese, loaves of hardened bread, more dried meat, and John pushed for a precious measure of salt for cooking. Next they paid their dues at the well and got all the water they could carry. Ladened with supplies, John and Lestrade crashed into their room to find Sherlock soaking in a steaming tub.

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