#Helen and Mrs. Hall take turns stopping him

[radarsteddybear]

Now that Tristan is off with the Veterinary Corps, I’m torn between wanting him to stay out of danger and completing his service unscathed and wanting him to get wounded so that we can see Siegfried absolutely fall apart about it

[hankwritten]

Death Shall Brag You Who Wander’st In Her Shade

Day 7: DAMNED (Pens & Pencils)

Pauling wakes, coughing up sand.

The desert feels different than before, the dirt under her knees grittier, the wind more malicious. The sky above her is a noxious green—she feels, acutely, she is not wanted here.

“Well too bad,” she tells the place.

The chinook whips harder against her bare arms. She shivers involuntarily, but fuck if she’s going to let some shitty hell-dimension tell her where she can and cannot stick her big, stupid, just-can’t-let-it-go nose. This is her hill to die on, she’s going to fucking die on it.

She walks.

The hissing, malevolent landscape may not be able to stop her, but can sure as hell hide the door. Pauling walks for hours, though the red sun doesn’t move against its neon backdrop. She doesn’t have any incentive to give up though. What’s the worst that can happen to her? Dying?

Still, the endless expanse of Distortion!New Mexico isn’t doing her quest any favors. She grits her teeth. How typical that the Administrator puts her in this position, even unintentionally. Impossible expectations. Blood (her own, a lot of it on the floor of Engie’s workshop) and sweat (her body is real enough that discomfort arises in every way you’d expect it to) and tears-

(so, so many tears on this transcendent, selfish woman.)

-the feeling that there’s something just out of her grasp, even as she keeps clawing tirelessly toward it, watching it slip through her fingers like smoke from a lit cigarette. A hand over the flame. Almost wishing it was strong enough to burn her.

There’s burning at the corner of Pauling’s eye, and she shuts them against it. It’s hot embarrassment that flares the back of her neck when she thinks of her last conversation with the Administrator. Those will not be the last words between them, not if Pauling has anything to say about it.

There is no door still, but the sand under her shoes has grown grainier, and gray, and the world of reality-adjacent desert turns into illogical gravel pits. As she pushes further into the realm, the deep trenches of shale fold in on themselves, though never quite curling overhead, twising into bizarre and nonsensical shapes. She finds Blutarch in the halls of silt and unusable engine fuel.

“You!” he points an accusing finger at her.

He’s not entwined with his machine anymore, though that hardly makes him look better. His chest is heaving, apparently having run from who knows where to who even cares where.

“You,” he repeats. “Tell Helen that her new mercenaries are worthless. Worthless! I want replacements immediately.”

“New mercenaries? What. Who? And more importantly why?”

“To fight my brother!” Blutarch screeches. “He pushed me down here and I am not moving on until I take him with me! But the only thing those new mercenaries care about is squawking and pecking at my liver. Feh.”

“…You mean the vultures out near the entrance?”

He folds his arms. “They were the only ones around to hire.”

“I’m sorry Mr. Mann, but the Administrator will have to get back to you later as she’s in the middle of something very important right now. Namely being dead.”

“That’s never stopped her before.”

Pauling doesn’t like it when Blutarch says something sensible. It puts a bad taste in her gut, like she just drank motor fluid.

“I think you two are up to something,” Blutarch goes on. “Been working this game for too long, I think. That you’re going behind me back and-”

“If you’ll excuse me, Mr. Mann.”

Pauling doesn’t have time for his ramblings, not when she’s just noticed a door behind him that hadn’t been there before in the shifting architecture. It’s not Her door. But it’s close. Closer.

Blutarch gives her another feh as she passes. Fingers trace against the rivets in the ancient industrial slab, but only for a moment, and she pushes inward on its aching hinges so compassionlessly that they scream.

Compared to the wind outside, this personal hell is almost cozy.

“Oh please, do come in,” someone says sarcastically.

A man sits at a large desk, a gibus hat looming over his brow, eyes glittering dark beneath it. Piled to the sides of the desk are coins: gold, huge, and ancient. No doubt poetically heavy. Not just on the desks, the two columns of gold are stacked behind the man, and they stretch back into the abyss of the endless room. For miles.

“Zepheniah Mann, I presume?” she asks.

“And you must be one of Her creatures.”

Zepheniah takes a handful of coins from one pile. He places it on a scale that dominates the majority of the desk, weighing it against a large bronze key. When they’re equal, he transfers it to the pile on the other side.

The first pile does not seem to have gotten any smaller.

“I work for Helen, yes,” Pauling says.

“Is that what She’s calling Herself these days?” Zepheniah transfers another handful. “Do yourself a favor, girl. Whatever you think you can get out of Her, She’ll play you like every instrument in the band and take you for ten times your worth. There is no winning. There is no getting what you want and nothing more. It’s Her game to play.”

“It’s not like that,” Pauling says.

“What is it you want girl? Money? Praise? Satisfaction?”

She says nothing. There was a time where she wouldn’t have been able to answer that question, the solidity of truth her smoke-in-fingers. But she knows now.

“Fine,” Zepheniah says when he grows bored. “Your choice. The door is that way.”

He points over his shoulder.

She doesn’t thank him as she walks into the black.

Pauling finds Her door. The familiar code in the keypad knows her fingers like a pen knows an inkwell. The door hisses for her again, taking her to the Administrator’s domain with hungry welcome.

This time, the screens surrounding the chair show only the Administrator’s eye: massive, green, and unblinking.

“So soon?” Helen asks.

She appears to have run out of smokes. She’s burning a rolled up magazine page at the end of her cigarette holder, just for something to do.

“That’s not why I’m here.”

“Not dead? Surprising.”

“Well yes I am dead, technically. But Engie found this other way to use the teleporter- Look. It’s a long story. But I’m here for you, Helen.”

The chair swivels.

She looks unchanged. Not the beautiful young heiress who’d saved them from the island, nor the thing she’d shriveled into when the australium ran out, but as Pauling had last seen her here. As Pauling had known her.

“I came to get you out of here,” Pauling explains. “To go back. We know how to do it without the machine now, to have a real life. But resurrecting your body hasn’t worked, not as long as your soul is here.”

The Administrator waves her faux-cigarette. “To go live a mortal life? Why? So I can pass another twenty years and wind up in this exact same spot?”

“You don’t have to,” Pauling says, exasperated. “You can, I don’t know. Do some good, make up for all the things that landed you here in the first place.���

“Miss Pauling if I were the sort of woman to laugh, I would say ha very dryly and tell you to leave me. As it is, I’ll only do the second half.”

“I’m serious Helen.”

And Pauling is. Dead serious. If she knows one thing, came to one realization at having Helen ripped from her life, it wasn’t her approval she missed. It wasn’t just one singular attribute that she could seek elsewhere. It was the whole of her.

“You did it,” Pauling says, “You got your revenge. But now you can do whatever, years where you get to live after that.”

“I don’t need to live after revenge.”

“But I need you to.”

Fractionally, Helen’s face loses control of its frown. Softening her voice, she says, “Florance. I’m gone. It’s finished. There is nothing I can do out there that would change what’s waiting for me here. Past a certain point, it doesn’t matter.”

“It matters. People change.”

Helen glances down. “Not I.”

Pauling steps forward. She does something she never did in life, never would have dared, but now she reaches out and takes Helen’s hand. She places it over her heart, her own hands folded over it, and bows her head until her mouth presses against skin.

“Please Helen. For me.”

The eyes, numerous and unlinking, close. The screens go dark.

Helen opens her eyes. “Very well. I suppose it can’t be any worse than this.” She gestures.

“I promise, there’ll be real cigarettes back on Earth,” Pauling half-smiles.

“Miss Pauling,” Helen says, “you should have led with that.”

The smile wins its battle entirely, and Pauling signals Engie to pull them both out.

[rainydayathogwarts]

Tony's assistant - Thor

Summary: When Thor meets Tony's new assistant, there's an immediate spark and the flirting begins. Tony goes out of his way to get them together

When Pepper Potts and Tony Stark got married, they decided that having Pepper as his assistant was a little bit of a distraction. That's when you came along. Pepper had hired you to be Tony's new assistant. She new if Tony did the hiring he'd probably accidentally hire the worst person possible.

You were honoured, to say the least. But you didn't expect to have so much work to do. I mean, not only did you have to keep the company in check, but Tony too.

One day, you were running late to work. Unfortunately, your car had broken down so you had to run the nearest bus stop.

Hair tousled.

Cheeks red.

Hands clammy.

The last thing you needed was to be in a meeting with Tony and his coworkers. Or worse. Be late. "I'm so sorry Mr. Stark." You panted, trying to catch your breath. "Car broke down-" "No worries my sweet (Y/N), just take a seat." He happily cut you off, gesturing to an empty seat.

Pepper probably made him a nice breakfast for him to be in such a good mood. You barely noticed the presence of his coworkers as you wiped the sweat off your forehead. Earth's mightiest heroes. That caused the blush on your cheeks to intensify.

You sat down next to a blonde man. Thor, God of Thunder, son of Odin. You flashed him a nervous grin before turning back to your boss.

After that meeting, you and Thor always seemed to bump into each other. First it was in the halls. Then he just so happened to be knocking on your office door asking for directions. Directions. To a facility he lived in.

He'd flirt with you, trying to be somewhat subtle. You'd flirt back. Obviously. Who would pass the chance to flirt with Thor? You still hung out with Tony a lot though. You were his assistant. Of course you did.

However that didn't stop Thor from stopping by to see you. "So. You and Point Break?" Tony teased one morning when Thor passed by to give you a warm coffee. It was perfectly made. Just how you liked your coffee. Not too strong for the taste to ruin your tastebuds but enough not to drown in the amount of water.

From that day, Tony tried to set you guys up. Constantly. He would sometimes call Thor to the lab or his office when you were there so you could talk more. He even called Thor over to ask him to drop papers by your office.

Once, it was a file with three papers in it. On the first one was written You're. The second had Welcome. And the last one had a silly smiley face on it.

He did three major moves to get you both together though. At first it was by locking you both in the conference room. But you just talked until Tony got bored and decided to let you out. Then he got you drunk so you'd flirt with Thor or confess your feelings. But it turns out you're the party animal type of drunk.

The last thing he did was gather the team for a game of Never have I ever. That - well. That kind of worked. "Never have I ever had a crush on someone in this room!" Boomed Tony with a wide smirk on his face.

You sent him a glare as you reached for your drink. He just winked. That bastard. Anyway, you, Steve, Tony, Maria and Dr. Helen Cho took a drink. 'Of course' You thought.

Everyone knew Helen had a crush on Thor. The only reason she'd join parties was because he'd be there. You couldn't blame her though. You were just like her. Another woman who was helplessly in love with the God.

You heard Thor groan and watched as he took a drink. "Ooh." Tony stated. "Tell us, God of Thunder, who is the lucky woman? Or man?" Thor's eyes flickered over to you before returning to his glass of Asgardian mead.

"It is not of your business, Stark." You looked down, playing with your own drink. Don't get your hopes up, stupid.

"Lady (Y/N)." He muttered some moments later. Woah woah woah. What? Heh, no. Wake up (Y/N)! You gulped. What? The nerves. God. Why is everyone looking at me? 'Turn around!' You yelled to your teammates in your head, knowing they couldn't hear you but you hoped the look you gave them was enough.

Thor got up, leaving the room. "Lady (Y/N)." Tony repeated, mockingly. He said it louder, as if he was demanding something. "Mhm?" "What are you waiting for? Go get your God!"

Then it clicked.

He liked you

Right! You stumbled on your feet, nearly tripping. "Too much alcohol." You mumbled, holding onto Clint's bicep for support.

You found Thor walking out of the building. You ran after him, almost falling on your face a few times because of your heels.

Who were you to blame though?

That man had long legs.

And he had a head start.

"Thor!" The blonde turned around. Yay? You thought about backing out for a moment. A long moment. How could he like you? Wow. Aren't you one lucky woman?

Even though you were a good 7 meters apart, you stopped walking. And just stood. "Umm, hi." He smiled, moving near you. "Lady (Y/N)." "Just (Y/N), please." You spoke quietly. He smiled again. It was a soft smile. Almost sad.

"I - um - I - uh - I like you too." You half expected Thor to turn into Loki and yell that he knew it and go ruin your life by telling Thor who actually didn't like you.

Instead of that actually happening, he wrapped an arm around your waist and tugged you impossibly closer. His rough, calloused hand brushed your hair out of your face. He just observed you for a while.

Then, he pulled your lips to his in a magical kiss. You had to stop yourself from moaning out right there. Your cheeks reddened at the thought of you actually kissing him. You wrapped you arms around his neck to deepen the kiss.

"Thank the lord for Tony, right?" He chuckled. "Yes. He has gone out of his way quite a few times to get us together."

Thor rested his chin on the top of your head and you leaned on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. "Be mine (Y/N)?" "Mhmm."

He laughed. Now you thought he'd turn into Loki. But no. He just picked you up and spun you, bringing his lips back to yours.

[acgasfanchallenge]

#ACGAS FREE TO ANYONE WHO WISHES TO WRITE IN FULL

So … you know that thing where a complete stranger (shy lurker who promised themselves they wouldn’t touch fanfiction again until they’d finished their book they are writing and have an impatient publisher waiting for) finally finds somewhere to post an idea (synopsis) they hope someone on AO3 (far superior to FF.Net) might take on and write in full for everyone’s (especially their) pleasure?

Well, hi! *waves*

It’s a bit dark (but a happy ending, naturally, as we all prefer those) and came to me the other night, when absorbed once again in the gloriousness that is Mrs Hall and Siegfried of ACGAS 2020 …

(I’m a stickler for canon, so currently not sure where to stick this in – assuming anyone wants it and doesn’t think it’s trash and simply not worth the effort, which it may well be, but I’m writing it anyway because it is bugging me and I MUST get it out of my system – but probably after the current season.)

Also, whoever runs this account, feel free to quickly take this from the web and squirrel it away if you wish to take it on yourself, before too many see it, as it is fully detailed. I’ll stop rambling now. Ahem.

It is the depths of winter, snow is heavy, and Siegfried, Tristan, Mrs Hall, James and Helen are in the Drovers the evening before Valentine’s Day, doing a pub quiz thought up by the barmaid to pull in punters post-Christmas (in the hope of a cash prize), since the harshness of winter plus ongoing war is making people think twice about spending money (especially in Yorkshire, where folk are generally reluctant to spend to begin with – and as a Yorkshire native I can confirm this is completely true).

Mrs Hall, being the incredible woman she is, is along with Siegfried et al steering their table in the winning direction, and ultimately they beat the rest, much to the annoyance of the other folk in the place (who see the vets as hardly being in need) and declares upon receipt that she is taking the winnings out of harm’s reach (Tristan is already contemplating another two rounds to warm them all up) and going to rest her banging head for an hour before preparing dinner. Siegfried wants to accompany her but she tells him to stay out from under her feet. Gerald, sitting nearby, is given a look of warning from him to also stay out from under her feet. Jess doesn’t like walking in snow, anyway.

Audrey leaves and trudges through the ever-growing snow the short distance home and unlocks the front door. Once inside, she hangs up her coat, calling automatically for Jess, and is confused when the dog doesn’t come running. She ventures in further, turning on more lights, and shrieks to see Jess lying motionless on her side, just inside the living room. She makes to go to her and is grabbed from behind by a black-covered figure and dragged into the kitchen, passed the dispensary where another figure is grabbing at bottles left, right and centre, and is pinned against the sink, begged not to scream. She is terrified, as anyone would be, but despite this recognises the hoarse, almost distraught, voice immediately. Her eyes widen then roll back, the realisation plus a nasty migraine too much to bear.

The figure catches her as she drops and lays her down, pleading for his mother to awaken. He is stopped by the second figure who hauls him to his feet and abruptly tells him to give him a hand. The revealed Edward then reluctantly leaves Audrey and goes to help. Audrey quickly awakens and unsteadily gets up, pale and afraid, and slowly creeps along to listen to what this chap is growling at her estranged son. It transpires they are stealing whatever drugs they can to sell on the black market, without any concept of the dangers of humans potentially having drugs formulated for animals. It is clear Edward has got himself into a fix he cannot get out of.

Audrey creeps back into the kitchen and takes a knife, then back along and, now armed, stands before them and calls for them to stop, put down the swag bag and get out, certain her clearly traumatised son will side with her, for never has he been so attentive as to call her name so desperately. The two freeze, and just as Edward is saying that it was a bad idea and they should go, a third figure appears knocks Audrey to the ground. Edward sees red and goes for him and chaos ensues with all three men arguing and fighting and Audrey caught literally in the middle, trying to stop both from attacking her son.

Her scream of pain puts an end to it and she collapses in Edward’s arms, blood pouring from her shoulder where she has been stabbed with a small pair of forceps. The two others scramble to leave, taking the swag bag with them. Edward pulls off his balaclava, cradling Audrey in panic. Adrenaline is pumping through her body and she asks him why. He tells her he owes them so much money and this was the only thing he could think of to pay it back. They’ve been watching the place to ensure no one was in, broke in at the back and the dog is only drugged, she isn’t hurt. No one was supposed to get hurt. Audrey tells him to take the winnings in her handbag and go far away, as far as the money will get him. If he is caught like this he will be locked up again and they will throw away the key. Edward refuses and she insists, begging him to stay out of the army if he can; he hasn’t the will for it and he will get himself killed. He is a good, gentle boy at heart, and nothing at all like his stepfather (or else his war-damaged and consequently abusive biological father) and he needs to use this moment to change his life for the better, and that she is sorry for how things have turned out but she has never stopped loving him.

Edward cries out as she loses consciousness and will not shake awake, then panics again as he hears voices at the front. He kisses Audrey’s forehead and flees, leaving the handbag and escaping out the back. By this point, the trio and Helen are inside and making their way merrily through the house and quickly realising something is wrong. Further chaos ensues as Siegfried spots Jess then, instead of remaining calm and cautious, blazes through the place and finds Audrey and half picks her up, checking for a pulse. Audrey is in and out of it, but cannot – will not – tell him what’s happened, although he can guess as he looks around at the destruction and missing items. It isn’t the first time the place has been raided. Tristan, James and Helen join them and he yells at them to get the village doctor, only to be reminded by Helen that the doctor is away at his daughter’s impending wedding tomorrow.

Siegfried swears then sobers at the speed of light and lifts Audrey into his arms and tells them to follow him, taking her into the surgery, where the table (in this story) is big enough for her petite body. By now, Audrey is in a degree of shock and out of it entirely, giving Siegfried free reign to remove her upper clothing (the urgency of the situation also removing his considerable inhibitions) and assess the wound, which isn’t as bad as he feared, but bad enough. Between them – Tristan and Helen keeping her otherwise warm and monitoring her pulse and breathing, and James and Siegfried removing the forceps, repairing the damage, irrigating and sewing up the wound – they sort Audrey out, joined after a while by Jess, now awake and wondering what on earth has happened. She comes straight over to the table to lick Audrey’s unresisting hand. Although she is stable, infection is still a risk with very limited antibiotics around. Mercifully Siegfried has something he can use on a human and does so. He then, despite being utterly exhausted, picks her up once more and carries her to her bedroom.

Once there, Helen takes over and tells the others to sit Siegfried down for half an hour with some strong tea. Siegfried reluctantly leaves, but returns as soon as he is permitted to sit by Audrey’s bedside. Helen tells him she briefly woke and managed a few sips of water and is now comfortably asleep on a painkilling draught and to try to close his eyes himself – and perhaps change his bloodied clothes. Siegfried nods and removes his thin jumper, sitting beside the bed and taking Audrey’s hand. Her skin is almost translucent in the firelight of the burning grate, hair curled in a dark wave across her white pillow, and bandaged shoulder just visible beneath her nightdress.

He sits and sobs as the impact of the moment and its otherwise possible consequence hits him. Audrey sleeps on, unknowing of his declaration of love, or so he thinks, for she concedes her own feelings when she wakes towards the man who has saved her in more ways than one, and she him, pointing out her head feels much better and eventually confiding what Edward has done, to which he agrees to stay quiet also, as well as join her on the bed for a decent kip, taking her in his protective arms. The end. Ish.

Any takers? If not, no problem, and HUGE thanks to everyone writing on AO3; there are some stunning works, my favourite being ladymelodrama’s third chapter of ‘Easily onward, thorough flowers and weed’. No surprises there. ;)

[nardragon]

Here's a completely self-indulgent scene for what I hope happens in 3x12

Read on AO3

"Hey, Dr. Goodwin, does this mean I get hazard pay for being in the trenches with Bloom all day?" Casey asked as Reynolds adjusted the medicine cocktail they determined would nullify the chemical effects in his IV.

One bed over Max laughed, "Just as soon as I find place in the budget for that hazard pay."

"Casey, I'll pay you out of my own pocket after today." Lauren said, her bed on Max's other side before looking at Helen who was checking the IV hooked up to Lauren, "Are you sure Candelario was informed about Mrs.-"

"Yes, Lauren, for the third time she's been fully briefed on all the patients from the ED." Helen said, half exasperated, half amused.

"They warded some of them just down the hall, I could-"

"No," Helen and Floyd said at the same time.

"Right now you are my patient which means you don't check on your patients," Helen said as she moved to check on Max's set-up.

Iggy walked into the room, "Good news. I just talked with the biohazard team. By tomorrow the ED should be fully cleaned and cleared for use again."

"Oh, and I was kind of hoping for a day off," Lauren said.

Everyone else in the room stared at her for a few seconds, long enough for Lauren to look at each of their faces and read the disbelief there.

Lauren frowned, "What?"

"Should we page Dr. Kao?" Reynolds asked, "Could the chemicals be making her delusional?"

"No one else presented with delusions or erratic behaviour," Helen said.

"I don't need a neurologist because I was hoping for a personal day."

"A normal person might not, but you..." Casey said.

Lauren glared at him a few seconds, "You can forget about hazard pay."

"I'll get Kao," Iggy said.

A voice rang out through the ward, "Lauren!" And a slim figure slipped past Iggy and into the room.

Casey sat up to see over Max, "Isn't that-"

"Hey," Lauren's voice softened, "What are you doing here?"

She reached her hand out, Leyla taking it.

"On the radio, the news,” She was a little out of breath, “I heard about the chemical spill. They said the ED was shut down and I knew you were here and," Leyla's eyes quickly took in the set-up around Lauren, the IV, the monitor hooked up to her. "What happened? What are they treating you with?"

Lauren started giving a rundown of what happened and the medications they were using to treat it. Leyla interjected with some questions, why they'd use one medication over another, what symptoms Lauren presented with. The others in the room watched in shocked silence. Partly because Lauren made no attempt to water down any of the terminologies, mostly because here was Lauren Bloom, the Head of New Amsterdam's Emergency Department holding this woman's hand, her fingers moving in slow circles on the inside of her wrist.

"Hey, hey," Lauren said finally when Leyla started asking redundant questions out of a sense of worry. She gently pulled on Leyla's hand, "Stop looking at my readouts. Look at me."

Leyla's eyes shifted from flitting over the machines to Lauren.

"I'm okay."

Biting her lip, Leyla didn’t look convinced, "Are you sure?" She rested her palm against Lauren’s cheek.

Leaning into the touch, Lauren nodded, "I'm okay."

Leyla turned to the others in the room and after a quick scan, she stopped on Helen, "Is she? Okay?"

It took a beat for Helen to snap herself out of the surprise, "Yes. She will be. Everyone's been responding to the medication.”

“Bloom was exposed the most,” Reynolds added, “So we want to keep her overnight for observation, but she's responding well so far."

"Exposed the most?" Leyla looked at Lauren again.

Lauren gave a shy shrug.

"The pipe blew right over her head and even after we realized it was a chemical spill she refused to stop treating the patients in the ED," Casey said.

"Lauren,"

"I wasn't going to let another doctor expose themselves when we didn't know what the chemicals were."

A soft sigh, "You reckless noble fool." Leyla leaned down and kissed her and kissed her and kissed her.

"Oh," Helen said simply.

The others room reacted like a wave had hit them at once. Max's head cooked to the side and Reynolds blinked, sharing a look with Iggy.

"You just had to get hospitalized when it's your night for the dishes," Leyla said in the space between their lips, drawing a soft laugh from Lauren.

"Mariana owes me thirty bucks. I knew there was something happening," Casey said, snapping his fingers.

"You knew about this?" Reynolds asked.

"Not this," he gestured to the kissing couple, "Specifically, but that's the closet crasher Bloom was smuggling in here."

"Ah," Iggy, Helen and Max said together.

“That makes sense,” Iggy said.

"Closet crasher?" Reynolds asked.

"Dude, where have you been?" Casey looked perplexed, "You've been working in the ED."

"Yeah, even we heard about it up in psych."

“Hey, the spill impaired my vision, not my hearing,” Lauren said, shooting a dry look to the others. But the usual effect of her chilled expression was diminished by the fact she’d only shifted her attention to them for a moment, her face held in Leyla’s hands the entire time.

“So, are you going to introduce us?” Iggy asked.

“No,” Lauren answered instantly.

“Lauren,” Leyla admonished softly.

Lauren exhaled before going down the list of everyone’s name. “And, everyone, this is Leyla, my…” She hesitated, looking at Leyla, “girlfriend?” Her voice pitched up, landing somewhere between a statement and question.

Leyla’s eyes were so soft as she said, “I’d hope that’s what we are at this point.”

Casey did a small fist pump, “And that’s another twenty from Brunstetter.”

“Looks like you got your hazard pay Casey,” Lauren said, voice dripping with sardonic ire, “Good thing too because I’m going to kill you for making bets about me. Just as soon as I’m not hooked up to an IV anymore.”

“Sharpe there isn’t any chance you make my drip go faster than hers? Just so I can a headstart.”

"I would if I thought a headstart would do you any good," Helen said, chuckling.

“Can I stay with you tonight?” Leyla asked Lauren.

“You should go home,” Lauren urged, “You’re just going to watch me get drip-fed meds all night.”

“Please.”

Lauren sighed, fighting a losing battle against a smile, “Max, is it okay? I know it’s well after visiting hours.”

“Yeah,” Max said, his smile warm, “We make exceptions for family all the time.”

“Okay, in that case, dinner is on me. Only the very finest of from the hospital cafeteria,” Reynolds said.

“Oh, yes, I saw they had Cesar on special today,” Iggy said, join him.

“Hey! Reynolds get me the mac and cheese!” Casey called after them, “And with the hash brown side. None of that green shit Max forced on us.”

“Hey,” Max clutched his chest.

“No offence,”

“Offence taken.”

Helen laughed, looking away from Max, catching Lauren’s eyes. The look she gave said they’d be having a conversation about this later before saying, “Boys wait on me,” and following Iggy and Floyd.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard of Medical Director getting chemical exposer from trying to find the source himself,” Leyla said, looking to Max.

“Ah,” Max gave a self-conscious laugh.

Lauren laughed, “That’s New Amsterdam.”

[incredifan34]

Incredibles Theory

Recently, I watched a video by Cartoon Conspiracy that theorized that Syndrome, was, in fact, a superhero - more specifically, the child of two supers. I highly reccommend you check it out.

More specifically, in the video, Cartoon Conspiracy theorized that Syndrome's parents must've been supers for the following reasons:

Mr. Incredible / Bob Parr seems to know Buddy Pine's mother well, if not both of his parents. As seen with the wedding scene where Helen and Bob get married, most of the attendees are, in fact, superheroes. This would suggest that Bob and Helen's majority of friends / acquaintances are also supers.

Buddy Pine, as a child, seems to be overly eager to become a superhero himself (and has access to advanced tech parts), idolizing Mr. Incredible, showing up at the scene of the crimes, inventing his own tech to give him "powers", and dubbing himself "IncrediBoy". For one, where exactly is Buddy getting all of the tech parts (as a child, no less) needed to make working rocket boots? And two, how exactly where, and when, to find Mr. Incredible multiple times, unless he also had a police scanner / some sort of device that notifies Supers when criminals are at large? (Or, perhaps more likely, he overheard his Super parents talk about where Mr. Incredible normally fights crime?) And why is Buddy the only "sidekick" we see or hear about? This could also potentially point to Buddy having one, or two, superhero parents, ones with access to government technology made for superheroes (i.e. Gazerbeam's eyepiece, gauntlets, etc.).

Buddy Pine seems to be obsessively fixated on "becoming a superhero", so much so that his entire childhood is spent revolving around becoming one, as well as his later adulthood. It seems strange that Buddy is the only "non-Super" featured in the film who wants to emulate a superhero in real life, whereas everyone else seems to be perfectly content with letting the established Supers (ones with powers) do the job of crime-fighting for them.

Forshadowing as related to Jack-Jack Parr, the child of two Supers, supposedly "not having any powers". In the film, one of the points that comes up is Helen Parr, a.k.a Elastigirl, worrying about (or at least noticing) that "Jack-Jack doesn't [seem to] have any powers". This is in spite of Jack-Jack being the child of two superheroes. So this tells us two things: one, that a superhero couple has had at least one child before; and two, that a "non-super" born to two supers has also happened before. Why else would Helen Parr / Elastigirl just seemingly accept so suddenly that Jack-Jack doesn't have any apparent abilities, even though he's still a toddler? ...unless, of course, there was a previous example that she knew of a "superhero couple's baby" turning out to be a "Muggle"...a child, perhaps, like Buddy Pine.

Syndrome's / Buddy Pine's later island base seems almost identical to the base of the Phantasmics, a team of superheroes mentioned in the extra of The Incredibles DVD. The Phantasmics were a super group part of the National Supers Agency, and focused on international threats. Their base, as such, is noted as a "Secret Mid-Ocean Location - Codename - New Atlantis".

Speaking of the Phantasmics, in the video noted by Cartoon Conspiracy, they were headed by team leader Everseer, whose superpowers included telepathy, clairvoyance, and "magni-vision"; Macroburst, a superhero with the ability to control air currents and create high-velocity winds; Plasmabolt, a female superhero whose powers involved shooting bolts of plasma, which was gathered from the insect-like antennae mounted on the head of her super suit; and Psychwave, whose powers included mental force wave generation, temporary mental paralysis, the ability to possess the bodies of others, psychic foresight, thought control, and telekinesis; her superhero uniform was notable for an atomic insignia. In the video montage of the Supers that Syndrome's Omnidroid kills in the film, the Phantasmics (Psycwave, Everseer, Macroburst) are some of the first superheroes to die by his hand.

Buddy Pine bears some physical resemblance to at least two potential Super parents. Cartoon Conspiracy theorized that Psycwave and Universal Man were the parents of Buddy Pine, because these two Supers appear first on his "kill list" (Project Kronos). However, personally, I think that Buddy Pine / Syndrome bears much more physical resemblance to the superhero Phylange, who had the ability to project sonic fields; and Apogee, a Super whose powers involved gravity control and levitation. Buddy Pine's facial / ear structure matches that of Phylange; his crooked teeth match Apogee's. Phylange and Apogee were both team members of the team "the Thrilling Three", along with...wait for it...none other than Gazerbeam. Likewise, Syndrome's Zero-point energy also involves what appears to be tech related to Apogee's gravity control / levitation ability.

Speaking of Gazerbeam, he seems to be, essentially, his presence seems to be the biggest piece of evidence in favor of this theory. According to The Incredibles DVD extras, Gazerbeam was originally a member of the Phantasmics, which would mean that he also worked with them off of their "secret island base" of "New Atlantis". (Sound familiar?) However, Gazerbeam's rivalry with team leader Everseer led to Gazerbeam's dismissal from the Phantasmics. After Dynaguy's death, Gazerbeam replaced him as leader of "the Thrilling Three", joining Phylange and Apogee in crime-fighting. In the film, Gazerbeam is also featured heavily somewhat, giving Mr. Incredible / Bob Parr the information on "Project Kronos" post-humously. However, Gazerbeam's previous involvement with the Phantasmics (and their "island base") seems too convenient to be merely a coincidence when it comes to his presence on Syndrome's island.

The "Thrilling Three"'s base seems based out of the same city from the intro. According to, again, the DVD extras, the Thrilling Three were based out of "the Trilling Three Towers...hours of operation effective by noon". (Again, why not start crime-fighting until noon, unlike the "around the clock" listed availability of other superheroes...unless one of the team had to take care of her child?) The Towers must've been based in the same city as Helen and Bob got married in, because Gazerbeam (a later Thrilling Three team member) also shows up at their wedding. Dynaguy, the current TT leader, also shows up to the wedding. However, the other two TT members, Apogee and Phylange, don't make an appearance. This could be due to the trouble their son (Buddy Pine) got into with Mr. Incredible only a short time before.

The only other "tech hero" seen in the film is Dynaguy, who, like Buddy Pine, had "rocket tech" to allow him to fly. Dynaguy, of course, used to be the leader of the "Thrilling Three", before his untimely death because his cape hit a snag on liftoff. Again, it seems too much to be a mere coincidence that Buddy Pine - who could be the child of two of Dynaguy's team members - apparently had the same, advanced "Super" tech Dynaguy had access to, albeit with Buddy reworking it into "rocket boots". Buddy even says to Mr. Incredible, "This is because I don't have powers, isn't it? Well, not every superhero has powers, y'know! You can be super without them! I invented these. I can fly! Can you fly?"

Buddy's / Syndrome's own dialogue as it relates to the Incredibles seems to indicate his own past. In the alternate opening on the deleted scenes, there's this really creepy moment after Syndrome hears baby Violet crying and then says to Bob, "You are breaking the law, Mr. Incredible. You know supers aren't supposed to breed," his eyes just slowly move in the direction of Violet's room. There's something very unsettling about that moment. Syndrome has Bob and Helen trapped with his freeze ray, and there's nothing they can do to stop Syndrome as he moves down the hall toward Violet. (Source) Likewise, Syndrome's decision to try and abduct Jack-Jack to "raise him as his own son" is disturbing in itself...almost like Syndrome has mental issues from his own abandonment / neglect as the child of a Super couple.

In addition to the last point, Syndrome's dialogue as he attempts to kidnap Jack-Jack is also very telling as to his own past:

Syndrome: "Shhhhhh.... the baby's sleeping. (chuckles evilly) You took away my future. I'm simply returning the favor. Oh, don't worry, I'll be a good mentor. Supportive, encouraging. Everything you weren't! And in time, who knows? He might make a good sidekick."

My theory as to what happened in Buddy's / Syndrome's backstory...

So, while Cartoon Conspiracy theorized that Buddy Pine is, in fact, a Super - having "super intelligence" - I am of the belief that Buddy, in reality, is not a Super. However, I agree on the point that he was born to two Super parents, just different ones from CC's theory: Phylange and Apogee.

Sometime before the flashback in the intro to The Incredibles, Phylange and Apogee had a son: Buddy Pine. However, being born to two superhero parents, especially during "the Glory Days", likely wasn't easy. When both of your parents' jobs involves dedicating themselves to a life of crime-fighting, where does that leave Buddy Pine?

As a result, growing up, Buddy's parents are frequently away on business. As such, he grows up looking up to, and idolizing, superheroes - and one in particular, Mr. Incredible. I think Buddy's obsession with Mr. Incredible started because, perhaps, he was neglected emotionally at home by his largely-absent parents. As such, Buddy decided to "latch onto" who he saw as a "perfect" father figure and role model - Mr. Incredible, who was an associate of his parents'.

As such, Buddy built up a "shrine" to Mr. Incredible in his house; "invented" his rocket boots; joined the Mr. Incredible Fan Club (or maybe even started it); and even tried to fight crime alongside Mr. Incredible as his sidekick ("ward"), "IncrediBoy". Having been emotionally neglected by his parents, he used this as a way to try and "become worthy" (in his eyes) of the attention and affection they never gave him. In his eyes, if he became a "Super", and "earned respect" as one, then his parents (as well as Mr. Incredible) might spend more time with / praise him.

Perhaps the case could've been that, because Buddy was born without any superpowers, he was more neglected by his parents, in his view, because "they expected / wanted a Super child". So, Buddy thought, if he could become a Super himself, then, perhaps, they might "love him more" then.

Indeed, TV Tropes says of a "Muggle born of mages":

He may be nice-if-pathetic or mean-spirited, but whatever the case, his bitterness and regret over not being a super is a major character trait.

If there's one thing that Buddy Pine / Syndrome seems to practically ooze, it's "bitterness and regret over not being a Super". He seems to always carry a chip on his shoulder because of it.

Buddy Pine / Syndrome particularly has three quotes related to the "absent parent narrative", particularly the "absent father" one:

"I'll give them heroics. I'll give them the most spectacular heroics that anyone has even SEEN!"

"See? Now you respect me, because I'm a threat. That's the way it works."

"That ship has sailed! All I wanted was to help you, I only wanted to help! And what did you say to me? (Flashback of Mr. Incredible: "Fly home, Buddy. I work alone.") It tore me apart, but I finally learned an important lesson: you can't count on anyone, especially your heroes!"

However, when Buddy Pine is rejected by Mr. Incredible, after the incident with Bomb Voyage, his anger and bitterness comes to a head. He decides that he "can't rely on anyone - not even his heroes", and, over time, becomes more and more hateful of his parents, and Supers in general. He sees them as people who deserve to be hurt - to be punished - and "just as they took away his future", he would "return the favor".

In time, Buddy Pine develops all sorts of tech, most likely taken from his parents' base. He likely goes to a normal university - probably a tech-related one - and is eventually hired by the government / National Supers Agency, possibly due to his parents' influence as (by-then-ex) Supers. He uses the government tech to create weapons of war and other technology, selling them to other countries for a huge sum on the black market.

All the while Buddy Pine works for the NSA, he gathers all of the intelligence he can on every Super, especially after the Supers go into hiding. Previously, the NSA required every superhero to register with them to fight crime legally, so naturally, they would have all of the Supers' information. Buddy Pine uses the government's task of "hiding" the Supers against them, and even his own parents.

However, despite the U.S.'s "Superhero Relocation Program", effectively ending the Supers, this isn't enough for Buddy. He begins plotting his revenge. Likewise, the Phantasmics are still operating internationally, not just in the U.S., off of their island base of "New Atlantis". Buddy, as part of the government / NSA, manages to get sent to "New Atlantis" as an NSA agent, claiming "he needs to do official government business".

So, Buddy scopes out the island, planning his method of attack. In the meantime, he finishes completion of the Omnidroid v.X1, and manages to lure the ex-superhero Universal Man to his death via it.

Not long after Universal Man's death, Buddy launches a surprise attack on the Phantasmics. (That, or he disguises it as an "NSA training session / meeting".) In the battle, Psycwave and Everseer are killed by the Omnidroid v.XI. Macroburst manages to take out the Omnidroid, only to be later killed by the Omnidroid v.X2. The last remaining team member, Plasmabolt, manages to escape the island, and is never seen / heard from again.

With the Phantasmics out of the way, Buddy takes over "New Atlantis", and makes it his base of operations as Syndrome. His next target - not surprisingly - is his own father, Phylange. Luring his father to the island, Buddy uses the Omnidroid v.X2 to kill him, obtaining the first part of his revenge.

After killing a few more Supers, Buddy moves on to his mother, Apogee, luring her to the island to kill her with the Omnidroid v.X4.

Meanwhile, former Phantasmics member Gazerbeam has been working as a lawyer. After being forced into hiding, Gazerbeam used his civilian identity to launch a campaign to get the ban on Supers repealed. Frozone commented that he "had trouble adjusting to civilian life," much like his best friend Mr. Incredible had. Also, Bob Parr (Mr. Incredible's civilian alter ego) had learned in a Metroville Tribune newspaper that Gazerbeam had gone missing. According to the newspaper article, he was last seen outside his apartment on Traction Avenue ten days prior to the date of the article. His past advocacy of Superhero rights—which had lead some citizens to believe that he had actually been a superhero—would have made him a likely target (especially to Operation Kronos, a plan set forth by super-villain Syndrome). (Source)

However, Gazerbeam had also been former team mates (and likely close friends) with Phylange and Apogee, Buddy's parents. After reading / hearing about Phylange's and Apogee's "disappearance", along with that of other supers, Gazerbeam does some extra research. He finds that Phylange, Apogee, and/or their son, Buddy, were last tracked to / seen on "New Atlantis", the Phantasmics' old base.

Thus, Gazerbeam, under the guise of being "recruited" for "Project Kronos", decides to do some undercover investigations. In time, he finds out the terrible truth - that Buddy Pine, his best friends' son, is now a meglomaniacal supervillain, and has been the one killing Supers - but that he's the next victim.

Likely being ambushed after finding out the truth, Gazerbeam has just enough time to swim to the underwater cave, and, using his abilities, carve the word "KRONOS" into the rock wall. By then, the Omnidroid catches and kills him, or he's already been mortally wounded.

And, from that point on, the events of The Incredibles happen as-is.

And, as a final kicker: the name "Kronos" itself is not only a reference to the 1957 movie [Kronos](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kronos_(film), but also to, in Greek Mythology, the leader and youngest of the first generation of Titans, the divine descendants of Uranus, the sky, and Gaia, the earth. He overthrew his father, Uranus, and ruled during the mythological Golden Age, until he was overthrown by his own son, Zeus, and imprisoned in Tartarus.

The period in which Kronos ruled was called the Golden Age, as the people of the time had no need for laws or rules; everyone did the right thing, and immorality was absent. Kronos learned that he was destined to be overcome by his own son, Zeus, just as he had overthrown his father, Uranus; thus, Kronos ate his own children, until his wife tricked him, and raised Zeus outside of his influence.

In the same vein, "Kronos" could be a reference by Buddy Pine himself to how he views his vengeance - with him as "Zeus", he used "Project Kronos" as a way to overthrow his father, Phylange (and his father figure, Mr. Incredible), "the most-well-known Supers of the Golden Age", even years after the Supers' retirement. And, just like how Zeus locked away all of the Titans (and Kronos) after their defeat to clear the way for him to rule as King of the Gods, Buddy / Syndrome kills so many Supers in order to clear the way for his "new world order".

After all...

Syndrome: [watching live news footage of the Omnidroid] "Huh? Huh? Oh, come on! You gotta admit, this is cool! Just like a movie: the robot will emerge dramatically, do some damage, throw some screaming people. And just when all hope is lost? Syndrome will save the day! I'll be a bigger hero than you ever were."

Mr. Incredible: "You mean you killed off real heroes so that you could pretend to be one?"

Syndrome: "Oh, I'm real. Real enough to defeat you! And I did it without your precious gifts, your oh-so-special powers. I'll give them heroics. I'll give them the most spectacular heroics anyone's ever seen! And when I'm old and I've had my fun, I'll sell my inventions so that everyone can be superheroes. Everyone can be super!"

Syndrome: "And when everyone's super ...[laughs]...no one will be."

[transgenderknothead]

I know I've been gone for like ever, but I was working on something super cool, so without further adieu... I Want the Truth a creepy pasta fanfiction just under 2k words!

Truth is undefinable, yes it has a definition, not lying, but how do you determine what’s a lie and what isn’t? It’s difficult, especially when you get different answers from the same person. My mother always tells me I have no memory due to various different accidents. First she said car crash, then she said nearly drowned, then it was kidnapped, her current story is that I had been in a coma for most of my life due to a birth defect. When I ask why her story keeps changing she says she isn’t quite sure what is causing my memory loss, as all of those things happened. My friends and I were hanging out at the old children’s mental hospital, it had burned down about four years ago and ever since my friends and I would go and try to figure out why and how it had burned. So far we had found nothing, nothing that was in one piece anyway, we had found three shattered skull fragments and a lot of broken wood. We’d searched all over the building, except for one room, which we could never open. It was a metal door, that when we tried using axes, hatchets, and even random pieces of wood nearby, they fell apart before even reaching it. We have no idea what’s on the other side, but it feels important, and because my friends are stubborn, we will never stop trying to open it or get inside. “Again!” Toby, my boyfriend, yelled when the head of his metal axe fell off when it made contact with the door. “At least this time we hit it,” I rubbed his shoulder as he slumped, “and it looks like you even dented it.” “If his noodle arms dented it, imagine what I could’ve done,” his athletic twin brother, Evan, flexed. “I don’t know, why don’t ya punch it, see what happens,” Toby argued. “Would you two knock it off,” their 14 year old little sister Jessy rolled her eyes, “what did Mom and Dad say about you arguing all the time?” Toby rolled his eyes, a tiny smile appearing when we made eye contact. “We should head back,” I piped up a little. Back at the house Toby and I went into his room, separated from his twin by a curtain, the tall boy flopping onto his bed. “Are you okay?” I rubbed his back. “Something about that room just,” he rolled over, pulling me with him, “I don’t know, it makes no sense.” “What is it?” “It gives me a weird gut feeling,” he scratched my back lightly, “like something bad is behind it.” I had woken up in the middle of the night, bolting up in bed next to Toby. It was always the same nightmare. I’m sitting in a pitch black room, a fuzzy figure of a purple, pink, blue, and yellow jester with a hammer sitting in front of me. It seemed like it was trying to communicate with me, but I couldn’t hear, or even see, much of it. The next morning we all headed over to the mental hospital again. Toby, having hurt his hand playing guitar last night, was going to let me try opening the door with his brand new axe. So here we stood, axe held over my head, everyone else standing back. When I swung the door flew open and the axe hit the floor instead. “Um, to whichever deity is out there, please help,” Jessy whimpered. I walked in, it looked as though this room had the worst of it. An entire wall caved in, shattered glass everywhere, all of the furniture destroyed. The walls that were left standing had what was very obviously scratch marks from whatever child was in here. “Holy,” I whispered, spinning around to look at the room. I kept looking around until I saw the bed in the corner, it was rusted and broken to no end, but that isn’t what caught my attention. It was the seemingly untouched blue bunny stuffed animal holding a very broken, but unburned, Jack-in-the-Box. I reached for it instinctively, but Toby grabbed my wrist. “Don’t,” he whispered. “I just want to know,” I grabbed the toys, inspecting them, before dropping them and gasping. I slowly picked them back up, and cradled the bunny, who was now missing an eye. “What is it?” Evan stood in the doorway, very obviously too scared to enter the room fully. “My name,” I whispered, just loud enough

to hear, “it’s on both of these.” I twisted the toys to show the red stitched name on the bunny and the carved name on the box. “Oh god,” Jessy whispered. I clutched the toys to my chest and started running back. “WAIT!” Toby called. “I have to know, I need to know the truth about my memory, and the truth about these!” I yelled when he caught up to me, he let go and let me run. “Whoa, slow down kid, where’s the fire,” my mom jokes. “What’s this,” I held up the toys and her face went pale, “don’t even think about lying, I want the truth this time.” “They were a couple of toys your childhood friend’s gave you before they left,” she replied. “Okay, new question,” I stood up straighter, “why were they in the mental hospital?” She gasped and dropped her tea cup. She smiled, looking at me, and a tear rolled down her cheek. “Mom, why can’t I remember anything? Don’t give me a story like you do every time.” “You still believed in imaginary friends,” she cried, “you were twelve, that’s not normal for a 12 year old kid! I had to do something to make you realize they were fake!” “So putting me in a hospital and drugging me into forgetting was your grand solution?” I yelled. “You don’t understand,” she started. “You’re right, I don’t understand, but what I do understand is that I’m not the type of person to believe something I haven’t seen, or hasn’t been proved to me,” I crossed my arms, knowing what I had to do. “Don’t do anything stupid,” my boyfriend spoke when they finally caught up. “I have to know,” I spoke before turning around, taking the toys with me, and running into the woods. I ran for a long time, a couple of memories coming back to me. Playing with a tall stuffed clown, a tall red headed man with long hair and wearing a feathery jacket handing me the blue bunny, setting the fire in the hospital. Eventually, I ran up to a familiar metal gate that led to a run down carnival. I opened the gate and it creaked. My heart was pounding in my chest as I clutched the bunny tighter to my chest, the Jack-in-the-Box in my hoodie pocket. I heard a twig snap by the merry go round, causing me to run into the hall of mirrors. I fell against a wall trying to stop myself from crying. “Oh Gumdrop,” a singsong voice came from the entrance. I hid farther into the dark corner, “you don’t need to hide, we’re friends!” I watched the black and white clown look around the room, his hands on his hips. His eyes meet mine, he smiles wider and gets closer. “Jack!” A voice laughed from behind him, the jester from my dreams stepped forward. “It’s her!” Jack pointed, and the jester looked my way. “I’ve been tryna reach ya,” he pulled me out of the dark, “but ya never heard me!” “I’m sorry,” I whimpered, his grip wasn’t tight, but I could tell neither of them were human. “Don’t be sorry! It aint your fault!” The jester giggled, pulling me out of the hall of mirrors and into the big tent, where three more inhuman entities were talking and working. One was a shorter man with black hair, a sketch pad, blue jacket, and a white mask with a red smile sitting next to him. Next to him was a more average height man with dark grey skiing, all black clothes, golden eyes, and what looked like a puppet hanging from golden strands of light coming from his fingers. Across from him was a very tall white haired man dressed like a magician and holding a wand. “There you are,” the man with the sketch book said. “We’ve been waiting for you to come back,” the grey man next to him continued. “She doesn’t remember us,” the magician looked at me. “I’m sorry,” I murmured. “Don’t apologize!” The jester rolled his eyes, “we’ll just reintroduce you!” “I’m Laughing Jack!” Jack spoke, “you used to call me L.J. for short!” “This is Puppeteer, who you called Pup,” the man with the sketchbook pointed at the man with the puppet. “This is Helen,” Puppeteer smiled, pointing at the one with the sketchbook. “I’m Papa El De Grande,”

the magician spoke, “you always called me Mr. Magic.” “I’m Candy Pop!” the jester tickled my sides, “you called me Pop.” “Where’s Jason?” L.J. looked around. “His workshop, fixing Mr. Bun Bun,” Puppeteer said, “it’d be best if she went alone.” Puppeteer took me over to a red and white tent near the big one. He told me to just go in, and that he’s never been mad when I was around because he never wanted to scare me away. “Jason?” I poked my head in, and was greeted by a big stuffed purple worm covered in patches. “Glutton!” A voice yelled from farther into the tent, “get over here!” I followed as the worm snaked towards a redhead man with golden eyes, putting an eye on the rabbit that I had come here with. “Jason?” He looked up at the calling of his name, smiling gently when he saw it was me. “It’s been a long time, Dolly,” he handed me the bunny, standing up he towered over me, “come on, let’s go for a walk.” During the walk he answered all of my questions that my mother refused to answer. He caught me up on all of the missing details of the past. And eventually led me back to the front gate. “It’s nearly time for you to get home,” pat my head. “Remember to just wind up the jack in the box when you want to see me!” Jack waved. “I’ll visit ya in your dreams again tonight, maybe now you’ll be able to hear me!” Candy Pop laughed. “Come back tomorrow,” Helen waved from his seat on the stairs of the merry-go-round. “Oh my god,” a voice came from behind me, my mother had her hand over her mouth as she glanced over the people I had spent my childhood with. “I was right, Mom,” I whispered. “Jason?” She whispered the name of the man who was trying to get away. “Yes?” He turned around slowly to look at my mother. “Oh my god,” she whispered, “Jason Meyers.” I looked at my mother at the use of our last name. Jason lowered his head. “Mom?” “You have been spending time with the spirit of your father, and I took that away,” her hand went over her heart, “oh, I am so sorry dear.” “Wait, Mom I didn’t even know,” I stuttered. “I needed to protect you from the things you weren’t ready to know,” he ushered us out, “now come back tomorrow, it’s getting late.” “We have to take your boyfriend to meet them tomorrow,” my mother spoke, causing Jason to look up, his eyes suddenly glowing green and his hair slowly turning white. “Okay,” Jack clapped his hands, his smile gone, “I think it’s time for bed.”

[scotianostra]

On October 4th 1843, Allen Mair was hung for the murder of his wife, Mary Fletcher.

A sad tale for all involved, this is a double hammy, Mair, aged 84, or 85 depending on the source. He became the oldest known person ever executed in Scotland, and the last recorded hanging in Stirling. Not only this, but Allen Mair, who obviously was a man who held his own importance above all others was also noted for his unusually long, bitter scaffold speech, as recorded in Alex Young’s book The Encyclopaedia of Scottish Executions 1750 to 1963.

Before you start feeling sorry for the old guy read on.........

The crime happened  at Candie End or Curshort parish of Muiravonside, on the night of Sunday 14th, or morning of Monday the 15th May that year, by” beating her with a stick or other weapon, by which she came by her death”.

In his youth, Mair had worked for the Earl of Selkirk, moving to America where he made a small fortune in the wool trade. Returning to Scotland, most of his money was soon squandered in petty legal squabbles, leaving Mair a poor man and what has been described in one source as  misanthropic, in other words, he was a crabbit auld bastard. 

Witnesses at the trial testified that  Mary Fletcher had been abused by him for years, including being starved as well as placed in a locked box-bed for long periods of time. one said she had visited Mary once or twice a day and that round New Year when she had gone round, Mary had complained of having a sore back and she noticed she was not walking very well. She also stated, in front of Mair, that she had not had any food from him, as he had a habit of keeping the provisions locked so she could not get them. He shouted at her and wished her in hell with her soul burning. It was claimed he starved her frequently, but her neighbours provided her with what food they could spare, but this was always done when he was out. Countless times, Mair was witnessed abusing her. 

The witness, a Helen Bennie last saw Mary on 14th May around seven o’clock when she gave her some supper. Soon afterwards she was aware of the sound of blows raining down and Mary crying out. They sounded to her like hammering. She heard Mary say for Mair to stop hitting her and to let her die in peace.

The next morning, having been too afraid to knock on the door, Bennie went round with some tea. It was then she saw Mary in the bed, bruised, blood covering her shirt and her arms bare. There was blood on the bed itself. She offered her the tea while Mair went to the minister’s house.

Mary told her Mair had beaten her. Bennie sent for a police officer and Mair was duly arrested. 

Shortly afterwards, Mary died.

While he was incarcerated in the condemned cell with his legs shackled to a chain rooted in the flagstone floor, he refused food for four or five days in protest. He soon gave up. Condemned prisoner Allan Mair appealed to the Secretary of State for Scotland, but it fell on deaf ears with him stating: ‘The law must take its course’. The conviction stood and the night before his execution he heard the scaffold being erected outside and said what a horrible thing it was to be hanged like a dog.

On waking at 5am on Wednesday, October 4, 1843, one of his keepers read the bible to him and later he was visited Rev Mr Stark. Mair told him he was going to address the crowd and tell them how unjustly he had been treated. At 8 o’clock the provost and magistrates entered the Court Hall and Mair was brought in soon afterwards accompanied by two officers as well as the clergymen who had seen to his spiritual guidance. He was seen to be bent almost double and was weeping bitterly.  A short passage was read to him form the bible while he rocked himself back and forth. During all of this he kept wringing his hands. Once this was complete, he was offered a glass of wine but refused, stating he would not go into the hands of god drunk.

The executioner then tied Mair’s arms behind him. He complained the ties were too tight. He was brought to the scaffold in Broad Street, but he was weak, so a chair was brought to him.

He shouted at the crowd he was innocent, that he had been ‘unjustly condemned through false swearing’.  He cursed those who had convicted him. He paused so the executioner stepped forward and asked him if he was ready. ‘No, sir, I am not done,’ he replied. Mair turned to the crowd again and stated, ‘I have been unjustly accused, falsely sworn against and unlawfully condemned.’ He went on for another five minutes by which time the crowd was becoming impatient.

Executed Today web site give part of his rant as...

The meenister o’ the paarish invented lees against me. Folks, yin an’ a, mind I’m nae murderer, and I say as a dyin’ man who is about to pass into the presence o’ his Goad. I was condemned by the lees o’ the meenister, by the injustice of the Sheriff and Fiscal, and perjury of the witnesses. I trust for their conduct that a’ thae parties shall be overta’en by the vengeance of Goad, and sent into everlasting damnation. I curse them with the curses in the Hunner an’ Ninth Psalm: “Set thou a wicked man o’er them” — an haud on thee, hangman, till I’m dune — “An’ let Satan stand at their richt haun. Let their days be few, let their children be faitherless, let their weans be continually vagabonds”; and I curse them a —

At this point the hood was placed over his head and the hangman adjusted the rope round his neck. He was forced out of his chair and while he was still muttering and wasn’t done raging. The old guy got his hands free and grabbed the rope, delaying his strangulation; the slipshod executioner had to fight off his prey’s clutches to hang him.

The last words I can find that he muttered were....

"I pray that God may send his curse upon all connected with my trial - I curse all the witnesses with all the curses of the 109th Psalm." 

The decision to hang such an old and probably deranged man horrified many. The Spectator offered mock thanks to Sir James Graham for sending a message of deterrence to Britain's octogenarians.  The weekly condemned the hanging as "an act of barbarism... which will stand as an instance of national debasement."

The second pic is from a  Broadside entitled 'Execution of Allan Mair, you can read the full transcript on the link below.

https://digital.nls.uk/broadsides/view/?id=14745&transcript=1

[grace-likes-things]

Beside Her

Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

A/N: uhh it’s been a while. Here’s this! And here’s to me posting a random one-shot every two years lmaoooooo. Disclaimer: alternate reality where no one died/left after endgame.

Summary: A mission Peter’s off the job for, and which goes terribly wrong.

Warnings: blood, major character death, this one is v angsty folks.

Word Count: almost 6k 

~~~~~~~

“So, am I alright to go with?”

“No way, Peter. Your sling may be off but your arm can't handle the kind of wear you put it through yet. Give it another day or so.”

Peter sighs, exasperated, “But the mission’s tonight!”

“Nuh, uh, Pete,” my dad cuts in across the room, “You’re staying here, doctor’s orders. I told you we’d check, and we did, and Helen says no.”

“Mr. Stark—!”

“Not me, Helen, you really gonna combat her decision?”

Dr. Cho gives Peter a stern look, having had experience with his impulsively-gained-injuries before. He turns away, ducking his eyes, knowing not to challenge her. 

“Peter it’s fine,” I say, hand on his good shoulder, “You’ll join us on the next one.”

“If—“ my dad buts in, “he doesn't go shatter half the bones in his arm again. And don't go assuming you’ll be on the next one, Y/N, I'm hardly supportive of you coming with tonight as it is.”

I sigh, turning stubbornly towards him as he waltzes out of the room, “I've been training for over 3 years, dad I—“ 

“Nope. Still my kid, don't push your luck. We’re t-minus 1 hour out, so go get ready,” and with that, he turns the corner and leaves. 

“Sorry Pete, better luck next time.” Helen picks up her clipboard and departs, leaving us alone in the room.

I turn to Peter, who’s looking rather defeated about the fact that he won't be allowed on the first mission in three months. I nudge his shoulder playfully, “Hey, think on the bright side, now you get to snoop around the lab uninterrupted for a couple hours.”

He gives me a halfhearted smile, “Yeah? I still wish I could be out there with you.”

His eyes change into an anxious look. I look at him, sympathetic, and grab his hand in mine. 

Since the snap, the fight with Thanos, and almost losing my dad, Peter’s had this protective, premature-guilt complex concerning the people close to him. We got lucky not losing anyone, but I think seeing my dad recover from mourning us and the near-death experience I had in the battle, he’s not really comfortable being separated from us in a fight.

“I know. But it’s relatively minor, from what I’ve heard. I mean — minor enough to convince my dad to let me tag along, so.“

“Yeah, I know. I just hate not being there to have your back.”

I lean into his side, shoving him playfully, “You suggesting I can’t handle myself?”

“Absolutely not,” and I see I’ve forced a grin onto his face, “Just think, ya know, maybe your dad’s had a few too many juice pops lately, and I gotta be concerned — I mean, a gain in weight could throw off his balance in the suit—“ 

“Oh! Throwing my dad under the bus here, are we?” I laugh, “That’s funny, maybe I’ll mention it to him later.”

“Kidding! Don't tell your dad I said he’s fat — he's not.” He hangs onto my hand as I stand from the med-bay bed, “He’s a very fit man, you know, for his age.”

I laugh, “This just gets better and better! I’ll make sure to tell him you think he’s old too after I get ready.” 

I move to walk away, but Peter stops me, tugging my hand gently.

“Hey, but seriously,” he murmurs, “be careful tonight. Come back in one piece for me. Okay?”

“Of course,” I say, and lean my forehead against his, “And you have a fantastically boring night, let your arm rest. Don't get into any trouble.”

He kisses me long and gentle, “I’ll try not to.”

——————

Tonight’s mission was a fairly routine one. One of the lingering branches of Hydra left, hiding in a bunker and planning nothing good. We’d all been briefed on the most recent information about their weapons and tactics, and the team had decided tonight was the time to shut the place down. 

I examine the repulsors in the palms of my suit, sleeker like Peter’s, but armed similarly to my dad’s. There’s about 15 minutes before we fly out, so I tuck my braids beside my neck — getting my hair caught in the helmet seriously blows — and make my way up to the launch pad. 

“Hey, offspring!” my dad plants his hand on my head and shakes it, “You still wanna come along on this one? Sure you don't wanna stay home? Absolutely? Because you know, you’re welcome to, in fact, DUM-E's been missing you down in the lab, i’m sure he’d appreciate your company—“

“Nuh uh, old man, I'm going with. You said so.”

“Oh, so I’m old now? You know, I did end up with an extra five years than you, so you can cut me a little slack.”

I laugh and walk onto the quinjet to meet the team, “Never.”

————————

“You all remember your assignments?” Steve asks, “Me and Sam, Tony and Wanda, Nat and Y/N.”

A chorus of yes’s and nods follow, as if this wasn’t the fourth time we’d answered that question. 

The ride to the bunker is relatively boring, other than my dad pestering me with Stay with nat, and don't get distracted, and be careful, and don’t do anything I would do, and definitely don't do anything Peter would do. Nat and Wanda chuckle at my situation from across the quinjet, and it was getting pretty old by the time we landed a bit outside the target. 

Once we’ve all gotten set with weapons and coms, we start out on the jog to the bunker. Upon arriving there, Nat and I are tasked with stealing a hard drive that contains targets and weapons data. From what we know, it’s in a room close to the center of the building, so we have a long way to go while trying to get noticed as little as possible. 

My dad tells me to stay safe and call for him if needed before we part ways, and Nat and I are alone in a dark hall.

“Alright,” Nat whispers, “We move toward the center of the bunker, 4 floors down, we’ll use the vents if we have to. They might cause a scene somewhere else, but our job is to keep hidden, all the way in and out if we’re lucky.”

“And when are we ever lucky?” I murmur back with a smirk.

“Don’t jinx it, kid, let’s go.”

For the most part, the beginnings of the mission are easy. We used Friday’s heat signatures for a full week to map out the guards’ schedules, so we knew what halls to stick to and when. Making our way to the less-monitored maintenance stairwell, we walk in silence, keeping an ear out for updates over the coms. Just as we reach the bottom of the third flight of stairs, a pair of guards walks through the doors.

“Hello, boys,” Nat says and quickly turns to me, “I’ll take the tall one.”

With that, we spring to action.

The pair raise their weapons toward us, but Nat quickly disarms the man across from her while I blast the gun from the shorter man’s hand and drag him through the doorway before he can reach the alarm on the outside wall. Slamming him into the stair railings, he tries to get rid of me by throwing a headbutt my way, but my suit takes the brunt of the impact. Pulling my arm back and releasing his wrist, I aim a punch square at his face and hear a crack when it lands on his nose. After a disdainful grunt, he shoves me back and tries to kick my legs out from under me, but I quickly grab hold of his ankle and yank up. The man lands harshly on the floor, and one kick is all it takes to knock him out. 

When I look up, Nat has already beat her opponent and is checking the outer hall for more guards. “It’s clear,” she says, and we both take the ankles of the two guards and drag them through the door into the nearest room, tying them up securely before jamming the door in place. 

“I hope they enjoy a nice nap, let’s keep moving,” Natasha says, and we make our way back to the stairwell.

Finally on the fourth lower level, we hold ourselves with a bit more caution. This is where they guard more heavily, and we still have quite a ways to travel before we’re near the center of the building. With light steps, we make our way down the dimly lit halls, occasionally ducking through doorways and turning corners to avoid passing agents, guards and other workers. It seems as if most of the work they do happens down here, as we constantly see high-ranking members and people in lab coats muttering to one another as they roam the halls. I’m only able to catch a few words of any given conversation, and of the ones that were spoken in English, none of them sound pleasant.

Nat and I travel fairly uninterrupted for the next few halls before she stops me and says, “Alright, we’re close to the center now. The hard drive we need is going to be in a lab somewhere around here, so we’re checking rooms. If there are any heat signatures, we clear it together. If Friday doesn’t pick any up, we split and multitask.”

I raise my eyebrows, “Oh? Going against my dad’s orders, huh?”

She gives me a wry smile, “You seem to be able to handle yourself, and it’ll get us out of here faster,” she points at me, “Just don't make me regret it.”

I laugh, “I won’t.”

And with that, we start scanning the upcoming rooms.

The first room we check has a few Hydra agents inside, so we clear it together, check the computers for the right information and come up empty handed, breaking the doorknob and continuing on. We go about this for a while, knocking out the occupied rooms together, splitting up to clear empty rooms, checking for the right hard drive, and moving on. It’s tedious, but no alarms have been activated so far, and we make a good team. 

Now very close to the center of the bunker, we come upon another few rooms free of heat signatures, so we once again divide and conquer. We have to be getting close now.

“I’ll take this one on the left, you’ve got the right?” I ask, walking carefully toward the door.

“Gotcha, call if you find anything.”

I open the large metal door and take a cautious step in, examining the room around me. There are no lights on, so I use a light on my suit to see my surroundings. 

It’s strange, the room is large with high ceilings, but is pretty much empty. A few scraps of metal and packaging are strewn about the floor. Concrete floors and dark walls line the place. I take a few steps further in to double check that I haven’t missed anything, but all I see is one door on the opposite side. I turn back to exit when the entrance I came through slams shut in front of me. Alarmed, I run forward and try to open it, but the handle won't budge.

“Nat!” I whisper hushed through the coms, “The door shut behind me, can you get it from the outside?”

I hear her footsteps approach from the other side and the sound of her trying to open the door, “I can't get it, and the lock must be electric, there’s nothing to pick. How’d this close on you?”

“I don’t know, I didn’t see it.”

I hear a new voice over the coms, “Wait, did you two get separated?” My dad’s voice resounds with a hint of anxiety, “What did we talk about, Y/N? I said to stay with—“ 

“I tried! Not my fault the door shut behind me.”

“Well you should’ve gone through the door with Nat in the first place!”

“Hey!” Natasha’s voice cuts in, “While I would love to listen to you two bicker, we’ve got a job to do. She’s fine, Tony, we’ll figure it out.”

“I could just blast the door handle—“

“No, Y/N, it’ll be too loud, we’ve gotten this far without being noticed.” I hear Nat huff through the door, “It’s in our best interest to keep it that way. Friday’s telling me there’s another door, leads out to a hall. I can go around and meet you there. It's further toward the center, so at least if you have to blast the thing down we’ll be closer to the target.”

“Sounds good, I’ll wait for you,” I say, and with that, Natasha stalks off through the halls. 

I turn to make my way across the room, walking leisurely. This place really is unusually huge for a seemingly-unused underground room, about the size of a school gymnasium. I’m wondering if it may have been used for storage or training when I hear a noise to my left.

Turning swiftly with my guard now up, I see a male guard walk through a side door. Another entrance? How did I miss that? I ready my fists in a fighting stance and call through the coms, “Hey Nat? This room was occupied, I’ve got it handled for now but you might wanna make it here quick.”

Strangely, I get no response, but I don't have time to dwell on that fact because the man is charging toward me.

He’s a good fighter, and we both land some hard hits as we combat to occupy the room. I flip over him and blast him into the wall, but he recovers abnormally quickly and rises up again for more. I land another punch to his stomach once he’s in range, but he quickly grabs my wrist after and squeezes with inhuman strength, crushing the thin-design gauntlet on my hand. The metal cuts into my palm before tear what remains off and launch him over my shoulder onto the floor. I move to kick his side but he grabs my leg and throws me off balance, and my back hits the floor in a harsh slam. Groaning, I try to sit up as the guard grabs a metal pole off the floor — oh shit — and slams it onto my other palm, crushing my second gauntlet. Two hands now bare, aching, and unarmed, I continue to fight at a slight disadvantage. But I’ve trained for years, I can handle this.

It turns out maybe I couldn’t handle it. 

The guard has to be one of Hydra’s human experiments, because he’s stronger than the average adult. I struggle to gain the upper hand for several minutes. He's had me pinned me to the ground, and just when I think his weight is lifting off me he brings down the pole on my side. Hard. 

I groan and curl away. Even through the thin — and now damaged — metal of my suit, the blow took the air out of me. I press my palms to the cold floor to push myself up, but another blow strikes my back and I collapse forward. Finally, the man grabs a fistful of my hair and slams my head into the ground, and a ringing suddenly starts in my ears. Dizzy, head aching, and barely able to think, the next thing I register is being dragged across the room to the opposite wall by my wrists, which are then cuffed in front of me.

And strangely, the guard who put all that effort into beating me walks out of the room.

“Hey!” I shout, “What’s going on, asshole!? Come back here!” But he doesn’t return, and shuts that same side door behind him. I groan in frustration, head still pounding in pain, and try to reach the team again, “Anyone hear me? I’m still in this room, my gauntlets are broken and I'm cuffed, anyone around?” No response, “Hello?”

I’m starting to think Hydra somehow interrupted our signal when another noise distracts me from across the room. 

The door opens once again, and this time five people exit. Four guards and…

Peter.

A chill surges down my spine.

They’re dragging Peter into the room.

“Peter?” I call out, panicked, “Hey! What are you doing with him?”

He’s dressed in plainclothes, so he didn’t come here as Spiderman. He doesn’t look like he’s in the best condition, slumped and hardly fighting the guards who are carrying him to the center of the room. My mind starts racing with all the things they could’ve done — what’s wrong with him? How could they have hurt him so badly he isn't able to fight back, especially with his strength? I need to get him away from them, but if these four guards are anywhere as strong as the last, I need a plan of attack. Or backup. Where is the team?

And how did they get to Peter? Peter Parker, not Spiderman, so not out on the streets — he was supposed to be in the lab tonight. Did they get into the compound? Is anyone else hurt? My mind keeps spiraling into more and more panicked thoughts, and then I hear him.

“Y/N?” He calls out, “Where are we?” His voice is raspy and slurred, and I think they must’ve given him something, some sort of drug. I’m about to call back to him when a guard lifts him up and punches him in the stomach.

“No!” I shout, raising up to my knees and then beginning to stand before one of the four guards points his gun at me. I stay there, kneeling before the scene, not knowing what to do to stop either of us from getting hurt. The three remaining guards begin to beat on him again, kicking and punching and Peter is too delirious to serve any resistance other than curling up and grasping weakly at the ankles of the men hurting him. I can hear his pained whimpers, and my heart squeezes in my chest, I feel tears building in my eyes.

“Stop! Stop hurting him, what do you want?!” I scream, wanting to get closer to him but still at a stand still with the fourth guard, “Come on, tell me what you want! You’re not getting anything by just beating him!”

The three guards pay me no regard, but the fourth, still pointing his gun at me, snickers as if I’ve said something funny.

Peter is still at their mercy, receiving hit after hit and a voice in my head tells me, they’re gonna kill him. You have to do something or they’ll kill him.

“What do you want? Come on, what is it?!” 

And with a heavy accent, the man says, “To cause you misery.”

The chill returns, and I decide — despite my terrible odds — that I have to get them away from Peter. 

I get my feet firmly under me.

I charge toward the guard with the gun, bracing myself.

And he does something I didn’t expect.

He turns the gun on Peter.

I hear three shots.

“NO!” I scream, my eyes go wide and I drop to my knees once again, facing Peter and crawling toward him, “No, no, no, no, no!”

The guards shuffle back into the shadows, laughing, seemingly done with their job, but all I can see is Peter.

I’m frozen for a second, staring, shaking, unable to process the scene before me. He lies on his back, staring up at the ceiling, hands grasping at his chest where blood has begun to pour from three wounds. I race toward him and drop to the ground at his side, placing my cuffed hands firmly over the holes in his chest.

“Peter?” I say, my voice tight and choked, “Hey, hey listen to me, you’re gonna be okay. The rest of the team is here, my dad is here, he's gonna get us out, okay?” A few of my tears leak down onto my hands, running into the blood that now stains them.

“Y/N?” He mumbles, hardly able to speak.

“Yeah, it’s me, I'm so sorry,” I sniff and try to keep my throat from closing up, “I’m so sorry I couldn’t stop them but you’re gonna be fine, Peter, we’re gonna get help.” 

His face is twisted in pain, and when he tries to speak next, only a cough comes out, and blood bubbles out over his lips.

I fail to hold back a sob and move my hands to his cheeks, “Shh,” I try to get out, but it comes out shaky, like a whimper, “Shh, don’t— don’t try to talk.”

His eyes look into mine, I can see the pain behind them as he lies there, struggling to breathe. I stroke his cheek, and only now come to notice the blood I’ve painted there. I sob again. I don't know what to do, I don't know what to do, I don't know how to help him.

Can I?

Is it too late?

I cradle his head across my thighs, take one of his hands in mine and leave the other on his cheek, trying to provide some sort of comfort.

“I’m sorry, Peter, I’m so sorry, I’m sorry,” and I just keep saying it, breathing it out and heaving air back into my lungs between sobs. Tears are constantly tracking down my face now, and i’m doing all I can to subdue them while he’s still conscious, still looking at me. 

My mantra of apologies keeps repeating, and my thumb keeps stroking along his cheek, and I don’t know how long I sit there, crying, mumbling, desperately hoping someone comes to help us before I notice him release a slow, defeated breath.

In, out.

“Peter?” I mumble. My blood freezes in my veins. My breath stills. I wait for his chest to rise again. I watch and pray for it to happen. Please, please, please.

It doesn’t move.

A long, whining sob erupts from deep in my chest as I drop my head and cry, and cry, and cry above him, “No, no, no, no. Please, no.”

I sob, loud and painful, unable to take a breath in anymore. I shut my eyes and don't look up because I can't look at his face — his eyes are still open his eyes are still open. 

I’m never gonna see him again,

I’m never gonna hear his voice again, 

I’m never gonna kiss him again.

The pain in my chest gets worse and I feel dizzy with the force of my sobs.

And then suddenly there are arms under mine, and I'm being dragged backwards.

Away from Peter.

“No, no, no, no, let me go! Let me go!” And what i’m saying is barely coherent between the sobs, “Let me stay with him, please, please!” But the arms hooked under me don't relent, no matter how hard I pry at them, no matter how hard I kick and scream. He’s getting farther and farther away from me, alone in that room, and I can't bear the thought of it.

“Please, let me go!”

And suddenly I hear my name, as if through a haze, but I can’t make out who’s saying it. I don't really care. I have to get back to him, I have to stay with him, I can’t leave him alone.

“Y/N— “

“Y/N it’s us! Come on!”

I pull and pull at the hands around me but I can’t remove them, I keep getting pulled backwards until— 

I’m yanked through a doorway, and the room where Peter lies is dark and blank in front of me.

My hearing isn’t fuzzy anymore.

I gasp in surprise but the sobs haven’t stopped, and my father’s unmasked face appears in front of me.

“Y/N? Hey! You’re okay, we’re here!” His hands are on my face but I swat them away.

“No! Peter’s in there! We can't leave him! We have to take him home, we have to get him home—”

“Y/N— “

“Dad they shot him, I couldn’t help him, I couldn’t help him—“ my words dissolve again into cries of grief.

“Y/N he's not in there.”

I turn to him in confusion.

“He is!” I point my hand frantically toward the doorway, “In the middle of the room! They k— they killed him in there!”

“Y/N…” my dad speaks.

And it’s then that I notice my outstretched hand, pointing toward the door.

There’s no blood on it.

I start to shake harder.

“I- I saw it, I saw it happen I— “

And I notice the thin fog rolling out through the doorway, lazily dispersing along the floor.

I look up. I breathe heavy and shakily. The whole team is staring down at my red, tearstained face. Cap’s face is twisted into concern, Natasha looks sad and sympathetic. Hydra agents lie dead or out cold on the ground, alarms blaring, but no one takes any steps to exit. The raid is over…

And I can't see any blood on my hands.

“Y/N, it was a hallucinogen,” my dad says firm, but gently, “Whatever you saw in there wasn’t real.”

I stare at him, trying to make sense of this. It looked so real. It felt so real.

“But— but I saw it— I felt it, I could feel what they did—“ 

He gently breaks the cuffs from my wrists, “I know, I know kiddo, but it wasn’t real. They know how to get in your head.” 

I shake my head in confusion, “But the cuffs? And my gauntlets are broken—?”

“Whoever did that was real.” Nat cut in, “They hurt you so you wouldn't fight the simulation and then the drugs were pumped into the room.”

I sit there on the floor in front of the Avengers. Disbelief, confusion, and grief all playing across my face. 

“Check the room,” I demand.

My dad points a light into it, and Steve walks through, “No one here, see?”

My mind still races, it felt so real.

“Friday?” My dad speaks up, a gentle hand in my hair, “Where’s Peter now?”

“At the compound, sir, working on his suit in your lab.”

I sniff and mumble out, “Vitals?”

“All normal levels.”

I sigh, squeeze my eyes shut, and drop my head into my hands. A sob of leftover panic and relief fights its way out of my chest.

“C’mere,” My dad says, and pulls me closer to him, a soothing arm around my back.

“I need to see him,” I choke out, “I need to know he’s not— “

“I know, I know, we got the job done here, we’re going home.”

——————

I don't remember the walk back out of the compound. It’s all vague reassurances and worrying eyes. I think my dad buckled the straps around me once we got to the quinjet. 

The flight back is somber, quiet, despite the fact that we succeeded. I feel the entire team’s eyes on me, but I don't look up. I’m too busy sitting curled on my seat, staring down at my hands.

There was so much blood. So much of his blood.

I spend the next few hours staring, not speaking, unable to stop the images from replaying in my head. My dad sits beside me, stroking my hair, muttering things I can’t hear.

I thought he was gone. All I can hear are the choked, wet sounds of the blood rising from his throat, all I can see is the stark image of dark red dripping down his pale cheek. Pain in his eyes. His chest refusing to move.

“Y/N,” I think it’s the fourth attempt someone makes to get my attention, and I look up to see my dad kneeling in front of me, “We’re almost back.”

“He’s at the landing pad?” I whisper, my voice hoarse.

My dad takes my hand and says, “Yeah, I had Friday call him up.”

The next thing I’m aware of is the quinjet touching down, and I unbuckle the straps and stand up. My dad rests a reassuring hand on my back, and when the ramp lowers, he walks me forward. He can tell I’m still doubtful. He can tell a part of me still believes what I saw back in that room. 

But then we reach the ground and I see him.

Peter is standing back from the landing pad, accompanied by Pepper. He’s healthy, he’s standing on his own, he’s not bleeding, he’s not hurt, he hasn’t been shot, he’s okay.

He’s not dead.

I pick up the pace, walking out of reach of my dad, and once I’m close enough to see his eyes a sob fights its way up my throat and I throw my arms around his shoulders.

“Hey, shh, it’s alright,” his arms wrap firmly around my back, one hand landing in my hair and one stroking up and down my spine. His hair tickles my cheek, his shirt collar is bent out of shape — he never folds them right. He’s warm and strong and breathing and alive. I bury my face in his neck as another sob wracks through my body.

“What happened?” I hear him ask, confused, and his voice rumbles so low and soothing and I can feel it against my chest, hear it in his throat where my ear is pressed. I can’t stop my cries long enough to answer him but I realize the question wasn’t directed toward me.

“She’s not hurt,” my dad’s voice reassures him, “They messed with her head. She thought — she saw them hurt you—“

“I thought you were dead,” I croak out. My grip on him tightens and I let my hand trail to the curls at the base of his neck, let them twist around my fingers. My voice has risen an octave when I say, “You died, I saw you die.”

We sway for a moment, his hands still running down my back and through my hair, I don't think he knows what to say. I wouldn’t know, either. 

We stay there for a minute, and the rest of the team has walked inside to give us some space, I assume. 

After a while, when my sobs have quelled and I'm just quietly sniffling against him, I feel his hand on my cheek, pulling me back.

“Hey,” He whispers gently, wiping his thumb under my eye to clear away the tears there, “Good thing that wasn’t me then, right? I’m right here. And I’ve got proof— I was talking Dr. Banner’s ear off in the lab the entire time, he can vouch for me,” I let out a watery giggle at his antics, “You wanna go inside? Get you warm, patch you up?”

“Yeah,” I sigh out, disentangling myself from him, but keeping an arm around his side as we walk into the building, “Sorry, I’d give you a hello kiss but I’m pretty sure there’s snot running down my face.”

He chuckles and presses a kiss to the hair at my temple, “That’s okay, let’s get you cleaned up.” 

——————

After a brief period of time, I’ve showered, changed into pajamas, and am now sitting at the bathroom sink where my dad is bandaging the shallow cuts on my hands from the broken gauntlets. We sit in relative silence, and there’s no doubt from the look on my dad’s face that I appear just about as shell shocked as I feel. 

“Kiddo, you gonna be okay tonight?” He asks in a hushed voice. 

I don't look him in the eye, instead watching him work on my hands as I mumble out, “Probably not.”

He huffs with a bit of amusement, “Well, thanks for the honesty, I guess.”

He finishes up on my left hand and raises my chin to look him in the eye. I don't know what to say, so I let him speak first.

“Seriously, Y/N, that was heavy, what you went through. Don’t be afraid to ask any one of us for help, okay?” He looks me pointedly in the eye, already doubting I’ll take him up on that. I am his daughter, after all. 

“Yeah,” I whisper, “Got it.”

He stands with a sigh and puts the first aid kit back under my sink.

“Goodnight, come get me if you need me.” He presses a kiss to my head and leaves.

——————

Tony looks at the clock. 7a.m., three hours after they returned from the mission. 

“Friday? Has Y/N gotten any sleep yet?”

“No, sir. She spent a few hours in the kitchen with Mister Parker, but it appears as if they are both headed to their respective rooms now.”

“Alright. Alert me if she needs help, Fri.”

“Will do, sir. Goodnight.”

——————

“Sir, it appears as if Y/N is in distress.”

Tony wakes up to the alert just forty minutes after he’d laid down to sleep. He's quickly alert and shuffling out of bed, down the hall to his eldest daughter’s room. Although, when he turns the corner he sees Peter already at the door.

The teen looks up at him, “Hey, Mr. Stark. I— Friday told me she needed help. I was just gonna check in.”

“Me too,” Tony sighs, “You go ahead, Pete. It’s you she needs to see right now. Goodnight.”

The man turns to leave, but stops short of turning the corner. He says, tired, but playfully, “Door open, Parker.”

“Gotcha, Mr. Stark,” And the boy walks in to comfort his daughter.

Several hours later, after Tony’s gotten his meager version of a full-night’s sleep, and after a night he’s sure has held several nightmares for his daughter, he walks back past her door to make sure she’s okay.

He smiles warmly at the scene. Wrapped in Peter’s Midtown sweatshirt, his daughter sleeps, restless but quiet, leaning an arm over the boy she loves. He holds her secure, both their legs strewn about the covers, and Tony can't help but notice Y/N’s hand. Resting softly at the side of Peter’s neck, fingers in the hair behind his ear, and her thumb rests just over the boy’s pulse point. Thrumming gently in sleep, reassuring her — even in her unconscious state — that what she saw was fake. Peter is alive and well, sleeping soundly right beside her.

—————

Alrighty that’s it! Let me know how you liked it and thanks for reading!

[hale-13]

Conditioned

By Hale13

For the Summer of Whump Day 16 - Touch Starved

“Can I take a shower?” Peter blurted out, shifting uncomfortably. He felt gross from the dried sweat and the bloody residue that was left on his scalp and around his hair line felt the intense need to get cleaned - broken arm be damned.

Words: 2084, Chapters: 1/1 (Complete), Language: English

Fandoms: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)

Rating: Gen

Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Helen Cho

TW: Literally None - Just Fluff

Read on AO3 or below the line break.

“Well Peter, I see no reason why you should have to stay here any longer as long as you promise to actually rest and allow yourself to heal,” Helen said firmly but with a smile toward him and Peter nearly sagged with obvious relief.

“Oh thank god,” he said he’d, already struggling in his attempts to climb out of the MedBay bed he had been sentenced to since the day before with some help from Tony. He flinched a little as he tweaked his sore arms, moving the wrong way, but trying to keep his muscles as relaxed as possible to prevent any further damage. His recovery is going to be annoying enough as it is without making it worse.

In his most recent fight against the Shocker the night before, he had caught a direct hit on his right arm which had successfully and cleaning broken his radius and ulna in two. In his haste to get away and then catch himself on a poorly shot strand of webbing he had dislocated his left shoulder. The pain had been so stunning he had barely been able to finish webbing up Shocker and get away before the police showed up.

It probably didn’t do much to help the injuries when he had swung back to the Tower but he had been numb and delirious by that point so he probably wasn’t really thinking straight. He does remember Tony not being super impressed with him when he nearly passed out as soon as he landed.

“I’m serious about resting,” Dr. Cho warned him as she helped him settle his, still sore and recently reduced, arm into a sling. “You need to take it easy for at least another few days or you’ll risk re-injury and possibly surgery.”

“Oh that shouldn’t be a problem,” Tony said breezily. “I have no problem cuffing him to a bed if I have to.”

“Mr. Stark,” Peter whined, trying to stand and balance without using either of his arms – it was much harder than he thought it would be – and already trying to edge toward the door. Tony just quirked up an eyebrow at him.

“Your aunt, definitely against her better judgement and with an amazing amount of misplaced trust, is letting you stay here with me so you don’t get into any more trouble during your convalescence so if you could just work with me for a couple of days here that would be much appreciated,” he told Peter very pointedly with a final wave at Helen as he herded Peter toward the elevator at the end of the hall.

Peter just rolled his eyes at his mentors dramatics but allowed himself to be directed – to tell the absolute truth, his arms still hurt pretty badly and he wasn’t really looking forward to his oral painkillers (that made him sleepy and emotional) and his anti-inflammatories (that made him into a right bastard if he was being honest) and trying to convince Tony that he didn’t need either. He wasn’t super confident about his success rate with that. “Can I take a shower?” He blurted out, shifting uncomfortably. He felt gross from the dried sweat and the bloody residue that was left on his scalp and around his hair line.

“You know that you can’t get your cast wet,” Tony reminded him holding up a hand when Peter opened his mouth to interrupt. “I mean, I suppose I can wrap it in a bag or something if you really want to shower that bad.”

“Yes please,” Peter eagerly agreed. Ever since the Bite all of his senses had been more sensitive but none more so than his sense of smell and he wasn’t a particularly big fan of the fact that he could currently smell himself. It made his skin crawl and was completely disgusting.

“Alright then,” Tony nodded. “Shower first and then a movie marathon slash prescribed nap directly after. Do we have a deal then Mr. Parker?”

“Only if we can get pizza for dinner later,” Peter bartered as the elevator opened up on Tony’s floor of the compound. “With pineapple this time,” he continued with a wrinkled nose, “the olives you got last time were disgusting!”

“You have astonishingly terrible taste but yes fine. Pizza later.” Tony nodded, herding both of them into the kitchen with a single-minded determination. The Wal-Mart and cling wrap cast protection apparatus Mr. Stark rigged together left a fair amount to be desired in the looks department but was completely functional when it came to water-proofing which was good enough for Peter.

It took some skill to slip away from his mentor but Peter was soon slipping into his room, struggling to get out of the sling on his own and finally succeeding. It made him wince from the extra pain it caused but it didn’t overshadow the relief of doing it on his own. He knew his limits from previous dislocations and knew that it was crucial to not overdue it while the joint was healing or he risked the chance of re-injury and, as Dr. Cho had reminded him earlier, surgery.

With a grimace, Peter rested that arm across his stomach and used his bagged up right arm to pull his shirt over his head. He was barely able to manage it when it pulled at his sore muscles and broken bones. Maybe he should use a button down or zippered hoodie instead.

Thanks to FRIDAY (bless her seriously), the water of his shower was already running and warmed up to his preferred setting of skin melting and he was quick to turn his back into the spray and luxuriate under it for an extended time. The high pressured water felt amazing on his back and shoulders, loosening up the knots and clenched muscles and providing relief.

“You doing okay in there kid? You drown yet?” Tony asked, knocking on the door and indiscernible amount of time later and knocking Peter out of his stupor.

“I’m good!” Peter called back, hurriedly reaching out for his body wash and cloth painfully and cleaning himself up to the best of his – limited – ability. By the time he was ready to wash his hair and hairline he felt exhausted and achy despite the excellent water pressure and all the good work it and the heat had done to relieve the pain in his shoulder and back. “Fuck,” he cursed, trying to lift his arm above chest level and spectacularly failing, finding himself unable to without making his muscles seize.

Peter was pretty bendy due to his powers so he attempted a couple different contortions to reach his head before just flat out giving up, turning off the water and taking his towel off the heated towel rack installed in the bathroom (rich people – seriously). It took longer than Peter cared to admit, but he was able to dry and dress himself in sweats and a zippered hoodie. He was even able to shuck the bag off his cast with little struggle so he was feeling pretty decent when he ventured into the living room with his hair sopping wet and dripping onto his shoulders since he wasn’t able to adequately dry it. Whatever. It would dry on its own eventually.

“And what’s all this supposed to be?” Tony asked, glancing up from his phone and wrinkling his nose but not moving from where he was leaned against the counter in the kitchen. “Why are you dripping all over my floor?”

Peter fought off a blush and tried to hunch his shoulders, stopping when it hurt. “I couldn’t reach up to get my hair,” he grumbled, failing to completely push down his blush.

“I guess that explains all the blood still caked in there,” Tony hummed, leaning over to move the dampened curls around to look at the blood still matting some of his hair together and crusting up around his scalp. “Well that’s pretty easily remedied. Welcome to the salon Underoos,” Tony said, pulling over one of the barstools and setting it in front of the kitchen sink, gesturing for Peter to sit.

“Uh… what?” Peter questioned, brows furrowing in confusion.

“I’ll wash your hair for you,” Tony clarified, looking pointedly between Peter and the stool again. “Just sit down while I go and grab some things!” And, with that, he took off in the direction of the bedrooms and associated en suites.

Peter, still pretty confused but (mostly) trusting his mentor, sat down unsteadily on the stool just as Tony came back around the corner with an armful of towels, shampoo and conditioner bottles along with a wide-toothed comb and an expensive looking hair dryer. He triumphantly arranged everything on the counter next to the deep sink and wrapped one of the towels around Peter’s neck. “Lean back buddy,” Tony said, using a finger to push on the center of Peter’s forehead until he gave in and let himself be pushed back to lean back with his head in the sink.

Doing his best to ignore the weirdness of it all (weirdness was pretty common around Tony Stark after all), Peter closed his eyes and crossed his arms across his stomach as the water turned on. He tensed up a little when he felt fingers start dragging through his hair but was quick to relax and release the tension in his body under the careful massage of his mentor’s hands through his hair and the warm water cascading across his scalp. He let out a little hum of contentment.

Tony let out a soft chuckle, squirting a healthy dollop of the shampoo into his hands and lathering it up before applying it to Peter’s hair, working through the snarls and tangles with care and scrubbing the leftover blood out of the curls. Peter went nearly boneless under his ministrations and Tony would definitely be lying if he said he didn’t milk the washing and conditioning portion at least a little bit. He knew that Peter had to be feeling pretty miserable and it settled something buried deep inside him to provide just a little extra comfort.

All too soon, though, he had rinsed out the last of the conditioner leaving Peter’s hair clean and dripping as he turned off the water. Peter made no move to get up or to open his eyes, breathing deeply and seemingly on the very verge of sleep, so Tony grabbed one of the towels and started to wring the extra water out of the kid’s hair, running the towel through it cautiously. “Just need you to sit up for a second here kiddo okay? Then you can nap, scout’s honor.”

Peter grunted and grumbled but did slit his eyes open and let Tony help him sit up, swaying back and forth and little on the stool and Tony ran the towel through his hair a couple more times to really get rid of the water as much as possible. He dropped the towel on the counter in exchange for the comb and the hair dryer. He ran the comb through the mess a few times before starting the hair dryer up. Peter practically melted as the warmed air fluffed up his curls. It didn’t take long to dry at all and, by the time he was done, Peter was listing forward nearly into Tony’s chest.

“Couch or bed buddy?” Tony asked with a fond smile, running his hands through Peter’s warmed and clean hair.

“Couch,” Peter muttered, leaning into his petting and making Tony’s chest warm up. This kid… god. He ended up supporting most of Peter’s weight but was able to quickly get him lying face down on the supple cushions with his head pillowed on one of the throw pillows resting on Tony’s lap, the ratty fleece blanket Tony kept draped over they back of the couch draped over him and a heating pad resting across his healing shoulder.

“Let’s start a Star Wars marathon FRI. Volume at thirty percent,” FRIDAY was quiet as she dimmed the lights and started the movie, the familiar logo and music making Peter relax even further into the couch, completely gone. As the opening theme ended and the camera panned to the shots of Leia’s ship, he felt Mr. Stark’s hand rest on his back, digging into the knotted muscles of his back.

It maybe wasn’t ideal to mess up his arms so much but, Peter thought, he couldn’t think of a better way to spend his recovery.

[johnsbleu]

Hold My Hand: John Wick x Reader Chapter 100

warnings: vomit (yeah, we’re just gonna have to get used to that at this point), slight Haunting of Hill House spoiler (lol what), and a quick little nsfw moment Hold My Hand Masterlist

You’re bent over the sink as you try to stop yourself from throwing up, but it’s not really working. You’ve been feeling a lot more nauseous today, and you’ve convinced yourself that it’s the flu now. Deep down, you think you know, but you don’t want to get your hopes up. Plus this is Finn’s first Christmas, and you definitely don’t want to overshadow that since you know how much this means to Tess and Jimmy.

There’s a knock at the bathroom door as it slowly opens, and you see John poke his head in, “Hey, you okay?”

You press the towel to your mouth and nod your head, “Pretty sure I caught the flu.”

John walks over to you and feels your forehead, “Your head isn’t too hot. You should maybe stay home though. We’re just looking at houses today. No need to go if you don’t feel good. I could even FaceTime you the whole time if you want.”

You shake your head and look up at John, “No, I’m fine to go. I can push through it for today.”

John holds your hand as you walk back into the living room, and he helps you put on your jacket. You smile at John as he zips up your coat, then he leans down to kiss you, but you back away.

“No kisses today. I don’t want to get you sick.”

He frowns dramatically, then he presses a kiss to your lips anyway, “I don’t care about getting sick. I want to kiss my wife.”

You close your eyes and lean against John’s chest, “I’m kinda sleepy too.”

John laughs as he leans down to kiss you again, “You’re just a mess today, aren’t you?”

“I am.” you laugh as you walk with John out to the car.

John helps you get in the car, then he runs back inside and comes out a few moments later with a bottle of water, some crackers for you, and a plastic bag. He smiles as he gets in the car and hands them to you, and you smile wide.

“Just in case you start to feel sick while we’re out.” he says and presses the button to open the garage, “Your mom and Tess are meeting us at the first house. It’s only 15 minutes away.”

“Great, so she’s super close. And no, I didn’t mean that to sound so sarcastic.”

John laughs as he pulls out of the driveway, and he reaches over for your hand, “It’s on the Northwest side of Oyster Bay, so yeah, she’d be closer to us. The other house is even closer though, just a ten minute drive.”

You nod your head as you look out the window, and you move your hand to your stomach when you feel the queasy turning of your stomach.

“Can you pull over? Please.” you look at John and cover your mouth, “Like right now!”

John pulls the car to the side of the road, and you quickly open the door so you can vomit. He reaches over and holds your hair back, then he rubs your back with his other hand.

“Get it all out, baby.” he says, and you vomit again.

You cough loudly and reach for the tissue John is handing you, and you wipe away the vomit on your chin as you sit up. You exhale loudly and take a big drink of water, then you eat a few crackers before John says anything.

“You good?”

You swish some water in your mouth and spit out, then you look over at John and smile as you close the car door, “I feel so much better.”

“I think you’re getting sick.” John frowns, rubbing his hand over your back, “I’m sorry, peach.”

“It’s okay.” you laugh as you put your seat belt back on, “If I can get the vomiting out of the way now, I’ll be fine.”

John laughs as he puts the car back in drive, then he reaches for your hand again, “Nothing can hold my girl down, huh?”

“Well, ya know…” you playfully shrug and flip your hair as he laughs.

“If you get sick at any point today, you need to let me know so I can take you home.”

“I will.” you press a kiss to the back of John’s hand, then you reach into your purse for a piece of gum.

__

As soon as John pulls in front of the first house, you gasp loudly – it’s beautiful, but it’s huge. You already know your mom will say that she doesn’t like the size of it. It’ll only be her and Dan here most of the time, but this is one of the only few houses that are for sale in Oyster Bay currently.

John pats your leg and looks at you, “Let me help you out. There’s a bit of ice here.”

You wait for John to get to the passenger’s side, and he reaches for your hand to help you out, keeping it tightly gripped in his hand as you fix your coat and grab your purse. The two of you walk up the driveway hand in hand, and you hear someone on the phone when you get closer to the house.

“Honey, I’m showing two houses today. Yes, I will be home before your mother gets in town. What do you mean ‘don’t say it like that’? I just said ‘your mother’.”

You bite your cheek a little to keep yourself from laughing, and you look up to see John doing the same. You’re so lucky that your mom and John get along so well. You don’t know what you’d do if they hated each other.

“It’s two houses. 3 hours tops. It’s for…John Wick,” he says, and he widens his eyes when he sees the two of you, “Honey, I have to go. I have to go,” he shakes his head and hangs up the phone, then he reaches out to shake John’s hand, “Mr. Wick.”

“Greg,” John laughs and shakes his hand, “You can just call me John.”

He exhales and nods his head, “Okay, I just didn’t know how you wanted me to address you. How the hell you been?”

John wraps his arm around your shoulder to pull you closer, then he gestures to the door, “Mind if we talk inside? She’s freezing.”

“Oh, yeah, definitely.” Greg says, and he opens the door for you, “So, John, what have you been to, man? I haven’t seen you for about…what? Four years?”

“Yeah, it’s been about four years.” John nods, “Been a bit busy as of lately. Bought the bookshop down on 8th in Mill Neck, and also–”

Your phone goes off in your purse, and you grimace as you look up at John and reach into your purse, “My bad. Text.”

Finn just threw up everywhere right when we were about to leave. I’m just getting him cleaned up, then we’ll be on the way. Be there in 20 minutes.

“Sorry, my mom and sister should be here soon. Her son just threw up everywhere.” you say, laughing a little, “Babies, so unpredictable.”

“Don’t I know it.” Greg laughs, “Got 3 kids myself. Two boys and one girl. Loves of my life, wouldn’t trade them for the world, but damn, it’s hard to get anywhere on time anymore.”

“I bet.” John laughs, leaning against the counter. “I think the last time I saw you, you only had one kid.”

“Just had the twins. A boy and a girl.” he says, and he grabs his phone out of his pocket to show John their pictures, and you lean against John’s shoulder to see. “Oliver and Alexis. They’ll be a year old this spring. And of course we have Felix, he’s 7.”

You smile as you look up at him, “They’re very cute kids.”

“Thank you.” he reaches for your hand and shakes it, “I’m Greg. I helped John find his house, then I helped him find the blueprints to rebuild it.”

“Well, thank you for that. I love my home.” you laugh, looking up at John for a moment, “I’m Y/N, his wife.”

“John Wick got remarried?” he laughs and looks at John, “I thought I had heard something, but I couldn’t believe it without seeing it; I see it now. Wow, she’s a looker, John. Congratulations.”

John smiles and puts his arm around your shoulder, “Thank you.”

It hurts your feelings a little that some people don’t ever believe it that John got remarried. It makes you so sad that so many people just wanted John to cry over Helen for the rest of his life and never be happy again. Hell, even John wanted to do that until he saw you one day.

“Um, is there a bathroom in here that I could use?” you ask, timidly.

Greg nods his head and walks into the dining room, then he points, “Down there at the very end of the hall.”

“Thank you.” you smile and head down the hallway to have a moment to yourself.

You can’t tell if you want to throw up or not, so you just lean back against the sink to catch your breath. After calming yourself down for a few moments, you open your eyes and look around at the bathroom. It’s nothing spectacular, but it’s pretty cute. There’s a bathtub in front of you, and a walk in shower next to it. There’s a nice little linen closet, and you peek inside to check it out.

“Mouse…” John knocks on the door and slowly opens it, “Are you alright? Did you throw up again?”

You open the door further and shake your head, “No, I’m fine. This is a cute little bathroom.”

“This is just one. There’s eight bathrooms in here.” he says, reaching for your hand. “Greg said we can look around. He had to make a phone call.”

You walk into the living room and look around, “This is way too big. She’s gonna hate it.”

“I thought so. I think she’ll like the next house the best.” John says, wrapping his arms around your waist, “Do you like this house?”

“Seems…big. Open. Uh, empty.” you look around and shrug, “Creepy.”

John laughs and lets go of you, “That’s because no one lives here.”

“No, it’s creepy! Don’t lie. I feel like I’m going to turn the corner and see a creepy little kid with no eyes staring at me.”

“Well, how could he stare at you if he has no eyes?” John teases, walking backwards out of the living room.

You roll your eyes and laugh as he pulls you into his arms, and he leans down to kiss you repeatedly. He dips you as you laugh against his lips, then he blows a raspberry on your cheek before he stands back up straight with you in his arms. He gently cups your face and presses a soft kiss to your lips, and you smile at him.

“My god, look at you today.” John whispers, and you furrow your brow as you laugh, “You’re just so fucking beautiful.”

You jokingly gag as you roll your eyes, “You’re so gross, Wick.”

“Telling my wife she’s beautiful is now considered gross in your eyes,” John says, cocking up his eyebrow, “Oh, no, I’m not falling for that.”

You laugh as you wrap your arms around John’s neck, “I think it’s pretty sweet, to be honest. I love hearing you say corny stuff.”

“Hey, I’m sorry about Greg. I don’t really know him, he just helped me find the house years ago.” he says as he takes your hands, “Then I tracked him down again to help me get the blueprints so I could have it rebuilt.”

“It’s okay.” you say quietly, looking down at your hands in John’s. “Just makes me sad that so many people just wanted you to be…sad for the rest of your life.”

“I know.” John nods, then he leans closer to whisper, “I was one of them until I met you.”

Tess and your mom walk into the house and you let go of John’s hands, but he grabs you and wraps his arms around your shoulders as the two of you walk out to meet them. Finn is bundled up in a puffy jacket, and it’s nearly making you melt when you see him struggling to move around.

“Fuck, it’s hot in here.” Tess says, and your mom scolds her for her language, “What? He’s 5 months old. He doesn’t know what I’m saying.”

She sets Finn on the floor and he tries to crawl over to you, but his arms are stuck out to the side from his coat. You kneel down in front of him and pull his coat off, then you toss it to Tess as you stand back up with Finn in your arms.

“Hi, Finny James.” you smile, and he begins to wiggle around in your arms as he smiles, “Aren’t you so handsome today? Look at these overalls. I’m dying.”

John kneels down in front of you and smiles at Finn, “Hey, buddy.”

Finn loves John, and he’s always so bashful when John smiles and plays with him. Finn hides his face in the crook of your neck, then he giggles loudly when John begins to tickle his belly. He’s wiggling around in your arms and it’s hard to keep a good hold on him, so you hand him off to John, who is more than happy to take him.  

Greg comes back in to show you around the house, and you all follow behind him to look at the house. He shows you the kitchen, which you’re standing in, then he moves to the living room and points out the features in there. A bay window and a fireplace.  

You begin to feel a little nauseous again, so you fall behind the rest just in case you need to run to a bathroom and vomit. Tess looks over her shoulder and begins to walk backwards until she’s next to you.

“I think you’re…” she peeks around the corner, then leans closer to your face, “I think you’re pregnant.”

“I think you’re wrong.” you laugh and put your hand on your stomach. “That’s a mighty big assumption.”

Tess raises an eyebrow and clicks her tongue, “Okay, well, don’t believe me then. But I’m right!”

You hear footsteps coming towards you, but they stop, and you and Tess look at each other in confusion. You start to peek around the corner when you see Finn, and he sees Tess and giggles loudly as John holds him up to peek around the corner again. Tess laughs and presses a kiss to Finn’s cheek, then she moves past him to find your mom.

“You’re going to be such a fun dad.” you laugh and wrap your arms around John’s waist.

John scoffs and bounces Finn in his arms, “He’s a fun baby. He’s so wiggly and giggly.”

You pucker your lips for a kiss from John, but Finn leans over with his mouth open to kiss you. You cup his little face in your hands and pretend to bite his little cheeks as he giggles loudly.

John bounces him in his arms and looks at him, “You tryin’ to steal my girl?”

Finn leans over for you to hold him, and you laugh loudly as you take him from John, “Sorry, John, Finn is the only man who has my heart.”

Everyone joins up again in the living room and you sit down on the couch next to John and place Finn on your legs as he bounces up and down in your lap. Greg hands your mom and John several papers, and he sits down to tell you more about the house.

“So, there are 5 bedrooms. 6 bathrooms – full bathrooms. Two half baths. There’s a fireplace. A private pool, a guest house is on the property in the back, and…what else am I missing?” Greg looks over the papers, tapping his pen against his head.

Your mom looks up at you and shakes her head. She hates it.

“Mom, what are you thoughts?”

“The furnaces in the rooms…” she says, and you all look at her. “That’s a no for me. I don’t like that. They get too hot in the winter and you can easily burn yourself on them, and I want one of the bedrooms to be for kids, so I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“We could have someone come in and take those out.” John suggests.

Your mom nods, “We could, but it’s a hassle. Also I don’t need a guest house. I certainly don’t need 6 bedrooms and 5 bathrooms.”

“5 bedrooms, 6 bathrooms.” Tess corrects, and she reaches out to take Finn from you.

“Well, regardless, I don’t need that. I don’t need a private pool, or that silly game room.”

You laugh quietly and look over at John, “Told you she’d hate it.”

John nods and laughs, “That you did. Mom, there’s another house that I actually really think you’ll like. Would you like to look at that? It’s smaller than this.”

Greg shuffles through his papers and nods, “The house on Summers Street? Lovely house.”

Your mom nods her head and smiles, “I’d love to look at it.”

The acid in your stomach is slowly rising in your throat, and you press your hand to your stomach as you get up and head for the bathroom. You lock yourself in the bathroom and quickly lean over the toilet as you vomit. You’re out of breath and tired, and you’re starting to think that maybe John should just bring you home so you can rest.

“No, you can get through this. It’s one more house. You can do this.” you say and get off to the floor. You flush the toilet and cup your hands under the faucet to drink the water from your palms, then you check to make sure you didn’t leave any vomit behind on the toilet before you leave. You walk back into the living room to find everyone staring at you, and you widen your eyes, “What?”

Your mom furrows her brow, “Were you throwing up?”

“No.”

She tilts her head and laughs, “We could hear you.”

You grab your jacket and put it on, “So, we goin’ to look at that other house, or what?”

John gets off the couch to pull on his coat, then he presses his cheek against your head, “Do you need me to take you home?”

You tilt your head back and smile, “No, I’m good.”

“Are you sure? We don’t want you throwing up all over this next house.” he says, laughing a little, but the concern is visible on his face.

“No, baby, I’m fine.” you smile, closing your eyes when John presses a kiss to your head.

Your mom puts her hand on your cheek and sighs, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I just feel a little sick today.” you say, then you quickly come up with a lie, “An employee came in sick the other day, so I think I caught it.”

From the corner of your eye, you see Tess cock up an eyebrow as she pulls out Finn’s stocking cap and zips his coat, and your mom grabs your head and presses your forehead against her cheek, then she shakes her head.

“You don’t have a fever. Are you sure it’s the flu? Maybe food poisoning?”

You shrug, “Could be anything. Who knows?”

John takes Tess’ keys from her to start her car and warm it up, and your mom walks outside with him and Greg. Tess is smiling to herself as she makes sure Finn is bundled up, and you roll your eyes when she looks at you.

“Shut up.” you laugh, looking at Tess.

“I didn’t even say anything!” she says, hoisting Finn up her in arms as she walks to the door, “You’re gonna be a momma, because you are definitely pregnant.”

You sigh as you look at her, “I don’t want to get my hopes up. Every time I do, I take a test and it’s negative. I’m not allowing myself to get excited about this.”

Walking back outside, you see John sitting in the car waiting for you, and you try to contain yourself. You don’t even know if you’re pregnant anyway, but it’s pretty exciting to think about, and it’s hard to not think about it.

“Hey.” John says as you open the car door, “You good? No more throwing up, I hope.”

“Nope.” you smile and look at him, “Just talking to Tess.”

John puts the car in drive and heads down the road, “I think your mom will really like this next house. It’s a little smaller than this and less bedrooms.”

“No ‘silly’ game room?”

He laughs and shakes his head, “No silly game room.”

__

John pulls up in front of the next house, and you smile to yourself when you see it. You won’t say it out loud yet since you don’t want to sway your mom’s opinion, but it’s perfect for her. You’d love to live here if you didn’t love your home so much.

There’s several medium sized trees in the front yard and bushes along the porch, and there will be plenty of room for your mom to garden. Even though it’s winter, the lawn is beautifully landscaped, you can tell even through the snow. You can already picture your mom outside with the kids on nice spring days.

The house is a pale yellow with white trim, and there’s a driveway all along the left side of the house that leads to a nice garage. The wrap around porch is a nice touch, but the swing on it is even better.

Greg is already inside, waving you all in, so you quickly get out to head inside as you hold tight to John’s hand.

“Oh, mom, this is much more your style.” you say, looking around the entryway.

Greg starts walking backwards to point out all of the features, “So, we have a nice entryway here, and to my left, as you can see, is the stairs that lead upstairs, which we will get to shortly. If you keep following me, I’ll show you the kitchen.”

The cupboards are all nice and there’s an island in the middle of the floor. The counter tops are all granite, and you point at the oven and widen your eyes at your mom when you see it’s a double oven – something she’s always wanted.

The dining room is nice and big, perfect for holidays and family dinners. The living room is connected to the dining room and kitchen, and there are large windows around to give the room lots of natural lighting.

“I love that the dining room, living room, and kitchen are all connected.” your mom says with a smile on her face, “I love that I could be in here making cookies or something, and the kids could be playing in the living room. I could always keep an eye on them.”

Greg points at the fireplace in the corner and smiles, “Fireplace as well.”

“Love it.” Tess says, then she points the hanging globes from the ceiling, “I love these lights too.”

You all follow behind Greg upstairs, and you look over your shoulder as John grabs your ass. He smiles as you lean back to kiss him, then he tickles your sides as you giggle.

“Hey,” Tess calls out and points to an empty room, “This would be great for kids.”

John immediately moves around you and looks at the room, nodding his head as he inspects it, “It would be great. Get some cribs in here, nice toy box over here.”

You glare at Tess when John turns his back to you, and she smiles proudly as she walks in the room to continue talking with John.

__

“Well,” your mom sits down on your couch and nods her head, “I really loved that house.”

“I did too.” you nod and look up when John comes out of the kitchen with two mugs of hot chocolate, then he leaves again to grab his own. “I really loved the open basement. Personally I would put some carpet down there.”

She nods and takes a sip of her drink, “I agree.”

“The kitchen is perfect for you, too. It was beautiful, and of course, the double oven. You’ve wanted one forever! And after having one for the past year, I can tell you that it’s a godsend. It’s perfect for when John and I are both making stuff, like if John is making dinner and I’m making dessert.”

John joins the two of you again and sits down in the chair across from you, “The yard will be beautiful in the spring and summer. The backyard is nice, plenty of room for you to garden.”

“You two are really trying to sell me on this, aren’t you?”

You and John both laugh, and you look over at her and smile, “Mom, I want you to move here, and I don’t want you to think I’m trying to…guilt you into picking a house you don’t like. I want you to love whatever house you pick. It’s ultimately up to you.”

“I get that, but honey, how am I going to afford this? I was going to buy a house with the money that I got from the house after I sold it.”

You reach for her hand and smile, “We’ll figure it out.”

“Sleep on it for the week, mom.” John says, smiling at her, “Don’t worry about it. We have Christmas in two days.”

“Yes, I’m going with Jonathan and James tomorrow to get presents for you and Tess.” she says and takes a sip of her hot chocolate, “And helping them get gifts for you two!”

You look over at the Christmas tree and laugh when you see it bulging with presents. Some of them are from you to Tess and Jimmy, but most of them are for you and John.

You laugh and look at John, “Yeah, I’m sure John has no idea what to get me.”

“We agreed to stay under a budget, but that didn’t work. I immediately went over.” John laughs and gets up to plug in the Christmas lights. “But she’s worth it, and she deserves all of these gifts.”

The whole living room lights up with Christmas lights, and you hear your mom gasp quietly when she looks at the tree.

“That reminds me!” she reaches into her purse and pulls out a small object wrapped in tissue paper, “I got this for you two and forgot to give it to you!”

You take it from your mom, and John kneels down next to you as you pull the tissue off of it. It’s a Christmas ornament in the shape of a heart and in the middle has some little crystals and you smile as you read it, “First Christmas as Mr. and Mrs.”

“That’s cute.” John laughs, and he reaches for your hand to help you off the couch. He moves an ornament from the front of the tree and smiles at you as you hang the new ornament in its place. He places his hand on your lower back, near your ass and he pats it lightly, despite your mom being right there, “Front and center. Perfect.”

“He’s so proud to be married to you, baby.” your mom laughs, and you look over your shoulder at her. “I still can’t get over that.”

You look back at John and cup his cheeks as you lean up to kiss him quickly, “Oh, I got to open one of my gifts a little early the other day! Let me go grab it!”

Heading upstairs, you look over to your left and watch as your mom and John talk, and you smile to yourself when she pats his cheek and gestures to the tree, probably telling him how wonderful it looks, which John will then say was your doing. You head into the baby’s room to get Charlotte’s Web off the nightstand John brought into here the other day, then you carefully take the picture off the wall.

“Yeah, she started decorating the day after Thanksgiving. She was super excited,” John says, looking over his shoulder at you. “I think the house looks great.”

“When was the last time you had a Christmas with someone?” your mom asks, and you sit down next to John and look over at him as you grow curious. “When your wife was alive?”

John inhales deeply and nods, “Yeah, I didn’t get one last Christmas with Helen though. She passed a few months prior to Christmas. So, my last Christmas before I met this one was much different.”

Your mom frowns, shaking her head, “Just so sad how much you’ve been through, Jonathan. You’re a very brave man.”

“Thanks,” John laughs, and you press a kiss to the back of his hand.

You hold John’s gaze as he looks over at you, and you nod your head a little. There’s a lot unsaid but you know what John went through after Helen passed, and you know it wasn’t just a simple quiet Christmas that he had.

“But I got her now, and Christmas is quickly becoming my favorite holiday.” John says, patting your thigh as you smile. “I have a whole family that I get to enjoy Christmas with – don’t tell Tess I said that.”

You laugh loudly as you look back at your mom, “He let me open a present the other day, so…”

Handing the book over to your mom, you watch as she runs her finger down the spine of the book, and she opens it and smiles as she nods. John gives you a wink when you glance over at him, then he smiles at your mom.

“This is beautiful,” she whispers, looking up at you, “Is it your original book?”

“It is,” you nod as you hold tight to John’s hand, “I had asked him to bind it months ago, then I completely forgot about it.”

You watch your mom as she opens to the front page, and she frowns when she sees the note she wrote to you is now replaced by John’s stamp. You hold up the picture frame and hand it over to her, and she immediately starts to cry when she sees it.

“You kept it?”

You laugh, “Of course!”

“This is so sweet.” she whispers and holds it up.

John squeezes your hand a little and smiles, “We have it hung up in the baby’s room. First thing we’ve hung up in there.”

Your mom puts her hand over her face as she continues to sniffle, then she takes a deep breath and laughs, “I need to get out of here, you two are making me cry! I’m having dinner with James’ parents in a little bit, I can’t be crying all night.”

“That sounds like fun.” you say and get up from the couch to walk your mom to the door.

John whistles for Bleu, then he grabs his leash off the table when he runs over to him, “I’ll walk mom across the street, then I’ll just take him around the block.”

“Oh, okay.” you lean over to hug your mom, then you hug John, kissing him quickly, “I’ll be here when you get back. I’ll get dinner started right now.”

“Love you.” your mom and John both say at the same time, and you immediately put your hand over your heart.

“I love you both.”

__

You’ve been trying to find something that John thinks is scary, and so far, you haven’t found it. You’ve tried slasher films, zombie movies, movies about realistic pandemics, but he doesn’t even flinch. At this point, you’re convinced John isn’t afraid of anything. Until you mentioned a certain movie about a clown – John said he wasn’t in the mood for that tonight.

You and John are sitting on the couch, devouring your pasta and neither of you have spoken in almost 30 minutes because you’ve had your mouths full of food, also because you’re so absorbed in the TV show you’re watching, The Haunting of Hill House. Funny how he said he wasn’t in the mood for something scary. John is definitely afraid of clowns.

The screen goes black, and John turns to you and widens his eyes, “Holy shit.”

“That’s my favorite episode.”

John lifts up his arm and sticks it out, “I have goosebumps.”

You laugh and wipe away the tear falling down your cheek, “It makes me cry every time. She was just watching them at her funeral. It’s so sad that she’s there, but they can’t even see her.”

John sets his plate on the table and pauses the TV so it won’t go to the next episode, “I still can’t believe she was the Bent-neck Lady. I didn’t see that coming.”

“I know! You grabbed my leg so fucking hard.” you laugh and lean over to press a kiss to John’s cheek.

John looks over at you and smiles, “How is your stomach?”

“Better.” you place your bowl on the table and look at John, “One more episode?”

“Up to you.”

You scoot down on the couch to lay down a little, and you shrug, “I don’t know. It’s almost 9. I got distracted and didn’t make dinner on time. I saw that one of your presents was delivered while we were gone earlier, so I had to wrap it before you got home.���

“Another present?” John looks over at the tree and smiles when he sees Bleu laying next to it, “We might have went a little overboard this year.”

“Well, last year at this time, we had only been together for like…four months. It was still fairly early on and you don’t really know what to get your boyfriend. I got you a tie.” you laugh and look at John as he holds up his left arm to show you his watch, “Oh, and your watch.”

John smiles and leans over to look at your necklace, but he frowns a little when he sees you’re not wearing it, “You’re not wearing the necklace I got you for Christmas?”

Moving your hair away from your neck, you hold up your necklace, “No, I’m wearing the locket.”

“Oh, well, that is the better of the two.”

You shake your head and laugh, “I love them both equally.”

“Do you wanna take a bath?”

“That does sound nice. Especially after the puke filled day that I had.” you nod and get up from the couch, grabbing your bowl and John’s plate as you head for the kitchen.

John helps you clean up the kitchen so you’re done in only a matter of minutes, then he heads to the front door to make sure it’s locked. The air in the bedroom is a little cold, so you fix your blankets for when you’re out of the tub it’ll be easier to get under them without being too cold.

John follows behind you into the bathroom and sits on the edge of the tub as he pulls off his socks. He watches you closely while you turn the water on, and he smiles when you look up at him. You’re starting to wonder if John suspects anything, he’s been eyeing you all day.

No harm in asking.

You look up at John and smile, “What’s on your mind?”

“Do you think mom liked that house?”

You nod as you pour some soap into the tub, “Yeah, I think she did. She’s going to stress out about it for the next week, I’m sure.”

“Did that pasta help with your stomach ache?”

You nod your head and look at him again, “It did.”

“Okay, good. Sorry, I know I asked already, I just hate the idea of you being sick during the holidays.” he says, standing up to take off his shirt. He turns around to throw it in the laundry basket near the door, then he laughs loudly when you wrap your arms around his waist and kiss his back.

“I love your back.” you say, then you begin to kiss all of his scars, giving the big one in the center a little extra love, “I love all your tattoos.”

John laughs, “Still want to get a tattoo with me?”

“Yes! Well, I mean, I have a tattoo for you already, but I do want to get another.”

He looks over his shoulder a little and smiles, “I thought of an idea for me.”

You look up at John, your eyes wide in curiosity, “Really?”

“Yeah,” he nods, turning around to look at you, “I thought our anniversary in Roman numerals would be cool. I’d get them on my ring finger, I think. I’d still wear my wedding ring every day, but…”

“Baby, that’s so romantic.” you hug John a little tighter, and he laughs again.

“Not too tight, baby. Nearly crushed my ribs.” he teases, nudging your chin a little bit.

You laugh as you pull your shirt over your head, then you unhook your bra and toss it into the laundry basket. You flinch a little when you feel John’s finger brushing over your skin, and you smile when you see him looking at your ‘J’ tattoo.

“Still so cool that you got that for me.”

“Yeah, now I’m just waiting on you to get one for me!”

John wraps his arms around your waist and playfully spanks you, “Soon, I promise.”

You smile at John as you look at him, then you hold his hand as you step into the bathtub. He steps in behind you and sits down, then he places his hands on your waist and pulls you down to sit with him.

You lean back against him and wrap his arms around you, feeling the warmth from them soak into your skin. Closing your eyes, you lay your head against John’s chest and smile to yourself, “I’m so content right now.”

“In life or just in this moment?”

You open your eyes, tilting your head back, “Both. I know we want a baby, so me not being pregnant is a bummer.”

You could literally be pregnant right now, and you would know if you would just take a test already!

John shrugs, “Yeah…”

“But I’m really, really happy. Like, really happy.”

“We’ll get pregnant soon. It’s only been a few months.” John says, and you try to contain yourself when his hands move to your stomach, “I can’t wait to see you with a belly. You’re going to be so cute.”

You laugh and place your hands on top of John’s, “We’ll have to do those cute little bump update pictures where you can see how big my belly gets every month.”

“Yes!” John leans his head against yours and laughs, “Yeah, I love those. Tess and Jimmy did that funny photoshoot, that was pretty cute though.”

“Are you excited to spend the day with my mom and Jimmy tomorrow?”

John lets out a small laugh and you feel him nodding his head, “Yeah, actually I am. She wants to go and get you and Tess a few things, then she said she’d help us get some stuff for you and Tess.”

“Please don’t buy me any more presents. There’s like, 50 under the tree already. I went way overboard, but I’m actually pretty pleased with myself. I got you some pretty good stuff this year. Over this past year, you’ve mentioned stuff in passing and I don’t think you ever mention it to hint at anything, but I’d stored it all away in my memory. Plus I’m still making up for your birthday this year.”

John kisses your cheek and smiles as you tilt your head back, “No, my roller rink date was good. And marrying you has still been the best birthday gift I’ve ever gotten.”

You take a deep breath and when you let it out, you realize John still has his hand on your stomach. You intertwine your fingers with his and tilt your head back, closing your eyes when he kisses your forehead.

The two of you stay in the water long enough for it to turn cold, and you shiver as you get out and feel the rush of cold air clinging to your wet skin. You grab your robe from the hook on the wall and pull it around yourself, then you hand John a large towel so he can wrap it around his waist. Together at the sink, you both brush your teeth and you smile at John when he winks at you.

John bends over to spit in the sink, then he reaches for a towel to wipe away the toothpaste on his chin. He watches you attentively as you wash your face, scrubbing away the makeup and the awful vomit filled day. He takes a towel from the linen closet, and he dabs away the water on your face, then he presses a kiss to your cheek.

You playfully spank John as he walks in front of you, and he laughs as he walks into the bedroom and shuffles through his drawer for a clean pair of boxers. Your hamper is overflowing with clothes, and you have no clean pajamas in your drawer, so you toss your robe aside and crawl into bed naked.

“I’ll do laundry tomorrow when you’re gone.” you say, and you look up at John as he tosses you a t-shirt.

“I know you love to sleep naked, but if you’re getting sick, you need to wear something.” he says, pulling on his boxers. He starts to smile when you frown dramatically, then he lets out a loud laugh, “Baby, I’m doing this for you.”

You pull the shirt over your head and hold John’s gaze as he gets in bed with you, “There.”

“Oh, well, thank you. I know that must have been very hard for you to do.” he laughs, scooting closer to you. “We need to talk…”

You groan and look at John, “I don’t want to talk, I want your face between my legs.”

“Oh, you do?” A smug smile spreads across John’s face, and he licks his lips as he looks at you nodding your head, “And it will be, but we need to talk about something else first.”

“Can’t you multitask?”

John laughs loudly and tackles you back on the bed, “You little shit!”

You giggle as John tickles your stomach, then you wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him, “I’m just kidding!”

John takes a deep breath and sits up a little to rest against the headboard, “If your mom does end up deciding she likes that house and she wants to move in, I want to buy it for her. I want us to buy it for her. I know she wants to sell the house and use that money, but she won’t get that house sold until probably the spring.”

You sit up and turn around to face John, “Baby, I saw the price of that house. There’s no way I can allow you to do that.”

“You can’t stop me.” John says, teasing you.

You roll your eyes and sigh, “John, I’ve been with you for over a year now, and I’ve come to realize that money is…nothing to you, which is nice, don’t get me wrong. It’s nice because it’s one thing that will never cause stress in our marriage, and I am…so grateful for that.”

“But…”

“But…” you shake your head, “I can’t let you buy a two million dollar home for my mom.”

John laughs, “It’s not two. It’s one…and half.”

Giving John a blank stare, you let out a very loud sigh to let him know how annoyed you’re getting, but it only makes him laugh. He knows he’s going to win this argument.

“John, I’m…I…” you pinch the bridge of your nose and shake your head, “I’m sick to my stomach thinking about this. My mom is going to fucking faint when she finds out.”

“You don’t need to be.”

“Jonathan, we didn’t grow up in a fancy home. We had a shitty house that was falling apart half the time. Dan tried to help fix some stuff, but…he’s…well, he’s Dan.” you say, and John laughs quietly. “I just don’t want my mom to feel like she has some obligation to us now, and I don’t…I don’t want this to be thrown in my face if you and I ever–”

“Stop.” John shakes his head, “Don’t finish that sentence, Mrs. Wick. First of all, your mom will have no obligation to us, and I don’t expect her to pay us back for this. I want to do this. I would…”

John takes a long pause, and you reach out for his hand when he tilts his head back and closes his eyes. You’re not entirely sure what’s going through his head, but you have a pretty good idea.

“It’s okay.” you whisper, scooting closer to him.

“I would do this for my mom…if I had one.” John says, and he smiles a little, “And…I do have one now.”

“Oh, god.” you tear up and cover your mouth with your hand as you cry.

“I want to do this for her. I want her here for Finn, I want her here for our baby.” he says, and he touches your stomach. “This isn’t just for Tess though, or just for your mom. This is for you. I know you want your mom here.”

You nod your head as you wipe away the tears in your eyes, “Okay, you’re making a good point.”

“And I would never throw something like that in your face, by the way. I’m not even going to finish that last part of your sentence, because that isn’t going to happen.” John reaches for your hand and points at your ring, “I say it all the time, but I’m in it for the long haul, baby. You and me.”

“You and me.” you nod your head and scoot over so John can hold you. You tilt your head up and look at John with tears in your eyes, “You amaze me, Jonathan.”

John smirks as he kisses you, then he crawls between your legs, “Wanna see how amazing I am?”

“Oh, yeah. Almost forgot.” you smile as John pulls the blanket from off of you, then you lay back and smile as John kisses your thighs, “Oh, and take your time.”

“Yes, ma’am.” John laughs, then he buries his face between your legs as you smile.

__

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[echo-three-one]

1 - A new Start

A new beginning.

Belinda smiled at the thought of her fresh start as she rolled over her bed and pulled her sheets, getting up as soon as she realized that it smelled different, almost like a masculine perfume.

Her eyebrows furrowed as she got up and realized that she was on the sofa, stark naked and there's a bare man's ass lying on the carpet.

"Shit." she muttered as her head started to pound and memories of last night quickly assaulted her still fragile mind.

She could remember going to the bar as soon as she unpacked one box and met someone there. She did her best to recall a name, but nothing rang. It seemed like she managed to sleep with this person without the effort of knowing his name, and that only happens when she's drunk and lets her guard down.

The man in question grunted and rolled as Belinda quickly tossed his shirt to cover his crotch, saving her from the view that she was almost about to see.

"Hey there, Jane Doe." he greeted with a cocky smirk as he slowly reached for his other clothes.

"Yeah. You got to go, now. I have work in an hour." She quickly shuffled and helped him leave her apartment.

"Really? Just like that? We gave each other an unforgettable night and I can't even get your name? Or a cup of coffee?" he joked as he pulled his pants up and buttoned it, his face looking like he was waiting for her answer.

Belinda just shot her an annoyed look.

"My name won't matter anymore. What happened last night was the old me saying goodbye to old habits. And that person who slept with you is no longer me." She explained as she slowly pushed him to the door.

"Well, I'm Russell. And don't worry Jane Doe, this is a small town. It'll only take me a few hours to get your name. See you around!" He winked as he closed the door and left Belinda staring at it for a few seconds.

He was right. This was a relatively small town and if he's a local, they're bound to cross paths anytime soon. And she admittedly enjoyed his company last night, but just as she told herself, that was the last time that she's going to do that. A new life meant that she must be careful with anyone she sleeps with.

With a self nod of approval and agreement to herself, she proceeded to prepare herself for her first day on her new job.

Ever since she was young, teaching was always her passion and she went all out to pursue her dream of sharing knowledge to the next generation. And after quitting her previous teaching job back at her hometown, she was glad that she got accepted in this new university as an English professor.

"Good Morning Ms. Belinda Ivanov and welcome to the university. Thank you for responding to our job vacancy on such short notice. You're like, the school's heavensent." The Dean, Helen Park, greeted, offering her a seat as she started to orient her about the university. Her British accent was distracting Belinda in a good way, as she dictated each word in a very convincing and understandable manner.

"Yes. I should also thank you for accepting my uh- application despite the previous records." Belinda shyly replied as Helen smiled at her reassuringly.

"Well, Miss Ivanov, those kinds of events rarely happen here as we cater to a more mature demographic and this school seeks talent more than attitude, so you are more than fit to be here. I'm pretty sure you have learned your lesson from your suspension and turned a new leaf, right?" She asked as she read her application.

"Yeah. A fresh start…" Belinda muttered as Helen nodded, her head turned quickly as soon as she noticed someone walk behind Belinda.

"Alex!" She called, causing the floor to squeak as the person's shoe made a complete halt.

"Yes, Miss Park?" Belinda turned to the person whom the dean called. A charming man, around his late 20s peeked through the ajar door and smiled at them.

"I'd like you to meet our new English Professor, Belinda Ivanov." Belinda shyly greeted the fine man as he was dressed in a brown sweater vest which was embracing his body nicely. Belinda shook off her thoughts as she followed Alex to the rest of the school grounds, trailing behind him as he ventured across the university halls.

Of course the first two men he'd meet would be extremely attractive, she thought to herself as she never bothered to pay attention to what Alex was muttering about and just admired his physical appearance. Old habits die hard, she added to her thoughts.

"The previous English teacher is on maternity leave. She used to sit here and you'll be taking this empty seat next to Russ." He explained as her head quickly turned to Alex as soon as he said that name.

"What's wrong? You know Russell?" Alex raised an inquisitive look at Belinda.

"Oh.. uh.. nothing. It's just a name that brings back memories." She lied as she sat down and set her stuff on her new desk.

She still had an hour left before her first class, so she started studying about her lesson plan. She did go over her introductory topic a thousand times over, but she was never too confident on delivering it. And while she was murmuring her lessons, she noticed something move to her left. She veered her eyes towards it and noticed that cheek scar and blonde hair. Who would've guessed that Russell from last night and Russell from the History Department would be one and the same.

Belinda quickly bowed her face down and covered it with her lesson plan trying to hide her from his prying eyes. Teachers slowly came inside the faculty room and all Belinda wished was for the bell to ring and let them all leave.

While she's thinking of her move to exit the area without getting Russell's attention, she felt a hand on her shoulders and let out a surprised shriek. Everyone else looked at her as her fellow female professor tapped her shoulder and wanted to give her a pen that fell on the ground.

The awkward silence was almost deafening as she met with everyone in the most embarrassing way ever. The staring stopped as soon as Alex introduced her to the whole teaching staff and most of the teachers greeted her a warm welcome.

While she shook hands and smiled with everyone in the room, she couldn't help but notice Russell looking at her almost mischievously. Remembering his statement about this place being a small town and he'll know it eventually.

Belinda couldn't remember most of their names and as soon as the last person shook hands with her, Russell quickly turned his chair to face hers.

"Hello, Ms. Belinda. Nice to meet you." He extended a hand and Belinda gulped. She quickly shook it as she felt his grip tighten around her hand, just like last night.

"You too, Mr. Adler." she said, peeking at his nameplate on his desk. Their eyes met for a second before Belinda quickly averted her gaze on the intercom system as it chimed in the first bell.

"That's one of my classes." She said, quickly getting up and leaving the faculty room. Behind her, Alex Mason quickly followed and walked her to her class.

"You look confident for someone who's new to this school. Do you know where you're going?" he asked as soon as he caught up with her.

"No." She hummed confidently, making the math professor chuckle.

"I could just ask a student, or look up a directory." She added, hinting that she didn't need any help.

"Well, that works too. But if you're also new in town, here's my number. I could… like, give you a tour or something." he said, reaching out a business card from his pocket. Belinda took the card and looked at it just before she took a left turn.

"Your class is this way." Alex pointed in the opposite direction and Belinda shyly thanked him before entering her first subject.

~

Belinda felt fine with the new setup, the new students and the new environment. The students were engaging about the idea of a new teacher and so far, her only problem was Russell Adler, the main person she's trying to get away from. And while she's thinking of ways to not talk to her seatmate, a sign just showed up in front of her on her way back to the teacher's lounge.

"Hey. Have you had lunch yet?" The fresh minty breath of the Math Professor, Alex Mason, wafted across her nose, a scent that felt good as his presence radiated too close in front of her. Belinda wasn't oblivious, Alex was extremely attractive, with his freshly shaved face, his neatly combed hair and his masculine scent, but she promised herself to focus on her career in this new town. Then another sign in the form of Russell Adler passed behind Alex and she was sure as hell that their eyes met before heading straight to the teacher's lounge.

"Sure… I don't know any good places to eat here. I appreciate the friendly gesture." Belinda shyly replied as Alex's grin spread from ear to ear.

"Great! Follow me. It's not too far from here and the food is great!" he cheered as they both walked to the exit, Belinda checking behind her to see if Russell saw the whole scenario or not.

The events were so quick she wasn't really sure if she's doing the right thing, but as long as she doesn't have to talk to the blonde man, she'll be fine. She could avoid him forever if she needed to.

"So, How'd you get to know Russell Adler?" Alex started off as he started to chew off his steak.

Belinda quickly twisted her fork around her salad, wondering if she should tell him the truth and get this over with. But seeing as Alex was sending him signals of admiration, she quickly dismissed that idea and proceeded to lie. Change was hard for Belinda, but it was what she saw best.

"He helped me out on my move, by accident of course." She replied as she took a bite of a slice of tomato.

"Ohh. Then why aren't you two that close? Did something happen?" He asked. He was getting curious and Belinda was starting to create a chain of lies which was not good.

"Well, it's just a chance meeting, there's nothing more to discuss after the move. So yeah… back to normal." She replied as she saw Alex's shoulders relax. Was he jealous? Belinda thought to herself.

"So, how was the first day?" He changed the topic as quick as that and Belinda started to feel eased. She could talk to him all day as long as it was not about her buried past.

"It was fine. I'm honestly glad that I felt comfortable in my first four classes. Usually the students take time to adjust to a new teacher." She explained as Alex chuckled.

"Mine's the same as always, blank expressions on everyone's faces. I mean it's numbers! Their faces are telling me like, The numbers Mr. Mason? What do they mean?" he laughed. Admittedly, being a math teacher feels hard, everyone hates you and wishes you don't exist.

"I tried teaching math once. They really hated every fiber of my being. And we also have supplemental classes every Saturday taking away my life." Belinda groaned as Alex nodded in agreement.

"I'll be in one of those after the first exams. That's why I'm making the most of these weeks." He smiled as he fished out something from his pocket.

"If you want, I have 2 tickets for a live band in the next town. It's on a Saturday evening and I could drive us there if you want." He reached out for one of the two tickets, sending Belinda on another tough decision. Now it's really clear that this wasn't just a friendly date.

Belinda carefully looked at the ticket and gulped as the pressure set it. The longer she leaves him hanging, the more awkward this situation gets. And honestly, she was totally free on a Saturday evening. Plus Alex looked like a good guy. So without further thinking, she took his tickets and nodded, making the man grin in excitement and probably doing an internal happy dance in his mind.

"Great! I'll pick you up at 7. I know it's still five days from now but I just want you to know that I'm happy you joined me." He says gratefulls as the two of them finished their meal and went back to the school to finish the rest of the day.

[izzielizzie]

Footnotes in the Story of Your Life

Nancy Drew never wanted to move from everything she knew in New York to an unwelcoming town in Maine, and she secretly refuses to enjoy her upcoming final year of high school, but that might not even happen when she and four Horseshoe Bay natives - Bess Marvin the socialite, Ace the stoic son of a single mother, George Fan the town foster child/screw up, and Ned Nickerson HBPD’s favorite ex-con - are accused of attempted murder. Nancy’s startled - when she said she wanted something interesting to happen she didn’t mean this - but soon she starts to notice that not everything is as it seems here (AU).

Title from “Tolerate It” by Taylor Swift

Nancy’s mother finds her sitting on her bed on the first day of summer with a framed photograph in her hands. Kate Drew softens at the sight of her daughter, her usually perfect posture long forgotten as she wilts into the bed.

“Nance,” she says quietly, and Nancy instantly looks up, her face crumpling. Kate crosses the bare room to sit next to her only daughter, wrapping a secure arm around her shoulder. “Moving must be hard, huh?” For the past month, the family of three had been packing up their New York home in River Heights, loading things into trucks as their friends came by with endless casseroles and ceramic dishes they didn’t know what to do with. Nancy, as social as her mother before her, had drawn into herself more and more as she made her goodbyes. 

“Liven up Nance,” Carson, Kate’s husband and Nancy’s father had said not too long ago as they ate the tuna casserole Helen Coring - Nancy’s best friend - had brought earlier that day as they put the contents of Nancy’s room into a U Haul truck. “We’re moving to River Heights Drive. Not that much of a change, right?”

Nancy had spent the rest of the night glaring at her father, resenting his audacity, and Kate had taken over with the reassurances. 

“Yeah. I just hate the idea that I’m missing senior year.”

“Well, you’re not missing it per say. You’re still going to school here.”

Nancy looks at the picture of her, Helen, and another friend named Burt at the junior prom, their arms around each other. Nancy sighs. She considers launching into a tirade about how New York and Maine are very different places and no she is missing school, the important parts at least, but she knows that this move is hard on her mother too, so she refrains. “I guess so,” she says, reluctantly putting the picture on the stand she had placed next to her bed. 

Kate kisses the top of Nancy’s head. “Good. Now why don’t you explore and I’ll see what casserole I can heat up.”

“Ugh Mom,” Nancy says, already grinning as she pulls her blue raincoat from one of the boxes on the floor in front of her.

 Nancy’s wanderings lead her to a small seafood restaurant with a great view of the Atlantic. Nancy’s not used to being this close to large bodies of water, and it’s making her a little nauseous. Her father, a native of Boston, assures her that she’ll get over the salt air smell, but Nancy’s not so sure. 

She looks up at the claw shaped sign, creaking eerily on its pole. The Bayside Claw Nancy reads. What a fitting name. And a fitting sign. Nancy’s about to turn and keep walking, since she’s not a big seafood person, but she sees a handful of well dressed men enter the restaurant. Nancy’s spent enough time in New York City to know when a well dressed person is just fashion conscious, or when they’re rich and up to something. These men are definitely the latter. Nancy pauses for a few moments to make sure that the men have had the time to settle, since she locked eyes with a young man with sandy blond hair and the beginnings of a goatee, and she doesn’t want him to think she’s following him.

Nancy is an unnecessarily paranoid person. 

She pushes through the doors of the restaurant and is nearly mowed over by a person the moment she steps into the dining area. “Whoah, I’m sorry,” she says, stepping back in time to see a woman with long black hair and an oversized cardigan stagger backwards, clearly discombobulated by well… everything. 

“Ugh, Victoria,” A girl about Nancy’s age in a green uniform grumbles. She catches sight of Nancy. “Sorry about that ma’am,” the waitress says, reaching down to haul the woman (presumably Victoria) off the ground. The waitress pushes Victoria out of the door that’s still held open by Nancy. “Go be drunk somewhere else!” The waitress - whose name tag reads George - turns to Nancy. “Can I help you?” 

Nancy freezes, not quite sure why to say she’s here now that she’s been spotted by this rather vocal waitress when she’s saved by another waitress, this time in yellow. 

“George, Mr. Hudson wants us to give his wife food,” the waitress says in a posh British accent. She’s holding a wobbly plate of fish and salad in one hand. 

George turns from Nancy to the new waitress, annoyance crossing her face. “Well what do you want me to do? Roll it onto a cart for her? Go bring it outside!”

“Mr. Hudson left his wife outside?” Nancy asks, without thinking. 

“Yeah, that fellow over there,” the waitress in yellow points to the sandy haired man Nancy had tailed into here. 

“And that fellow is both incredibly rich and able to give us a boost and my foster dad so maybe you should shut up and give Tiffany her food,” George snaps. Both Bess and Nancy flush. 

“Sorry,” Bess mumbles, stepping away and around Nancy to slip through the front door. Nancy’s a little jostled when Bess passes her, and she spins a little, turning towards the kitchen. She catches sight of a young man in a colorful Hawaiian shirt ringing the bell to signify an order. They lock eyes - ice blue on sky - and Nancy feels a wave of déjà vu pass over her, but she shakes it off. She turns back to George, who’s still looking at her, waiting for Nancy to say something. 

Finally, Nancy makes up her mind. If she’s going to be stuck in this tiny town she might as well do something to occupy her time. “Are you hiring?”

George looks her over. “Are you new here?”

Oh. So it’s that kind of tiny town. “Yes, my family just moved here.”

George nods. “Right. Well, we could always use a new waitress. We had one leave for college and Bess isn’t the brightest so…” George trails off, cocking her head. “Do you hear that?”

Both Nancy and George tilt their heads towards the front door of the restaurant, where they can hear muffled shouting. Both girls look at each other for a moment before Nancy spins and pushes the door open. George is hot on her heels, and after a few moments, a third pair of feet joins them. Nancy turns to see shaggy blond hair under a black cap and knows that it’s the boy from behind the counter.

Nancy stops suddenly when she sees Bess standing over a body, shock on her face. “Omph,” Nancy says as both George and the other guy come barreling into her. She stumbles, and George catches her around the waist. Nancy opens her mouth to ask the very obvious question hanging in the air- 

“Bess? What happened?” a decidedly male voice asks, taking the words straight from Nancy’s mouth. She looks up to see a tall boy with cocoa skin exiting a blue truck parked a foot behind Bess, the body, and the sleek car looming over the person Nancy can only assume is Mrs. Hudson. 

A strangled cry escapes George, and she rushes forward, dropping to her knees next to the woman. “Help her!” George says, looking up at the four of them as she lifts Mrs. Hudson’s head to rest on her knees. She cradles it in her hands like an injured bird. 

“What happened?” the Hawaiian shirt boy repeats. Bess is sobbing now. 

“I turned to go back to the restaurant and all of a sudden she cried out and fell! I don’t know!” 

Nancy, still not quite sure what in the world is happening, crouches next to George and Mrs. Hudson. She lifts one of Mrs. Hudson’s hands, feeling her wrist for a pulse. 

“She’s not dead,” she says as sirens come wailing towards them.

Fifteen minutes later, Nancy, Bess, George, and the two boys are sitting in the hospital waiting room with Mr. Hudson, George leaning against Mr. Hudson’s shoulder.

“The Hudsons have been her foster parents for the longest out of any of her homes,” Bess says, leaning over to whisper in Nancy’s ear. Nancy smiles at her. “I remember what it’s like being new. I only moved in with my aunt here in Horseshoe Bay last month. I used to live in London. I’m Bess by the way.”

“Nancy,” Nancy says.

“Welcome. Where did you live before?”

“New York.”

“City?”

“State.”

“Oh that’s nice. I love the city, did you go often?”

“Yeah, sometimes,” Nancy says as the waiting room doors swing open. She’s startled to see a man in a uniform striding towards their little group. He’s probably in his thirty or forties, and he’s got a no nonsense look on his face. 

“Are you the people found at the scene of the crime?” he asks in lieu of greeting. 

“Woah, woah, crime?” Mr. Hudson asks, standing up, startling George, who had been dozing on his shoulder. 

The officer turns to Mr. Hudson solemnly, putting a hand on his shoulder. “There was poison found in your wife’s system, Mr. Hudson, which means that someone had attempted to kill her.”

Everyone turns to Bess, except Mr. Hudson and the officers. 

Mr. Hudson stares at the officer for a moment before sinking into his seat, a look of genuine fear on his face. “Who would want to kill Tif?”

“Not me I swear!” Bess cries, latching on to Nancy’s arm. Nancy gently pries her fingers off her arm.

The officer shakes his head, ignoring the distraught waitress. “I’m not sure sir, but it’s our job to figure it out. Why is why I need to speak to these five.”

They all look at Mr. Hudson: Nancy, George, Bess, and the two boys whose names Nancy still doesn’t know. But Mr. Hudson’s face is ashen, like he’s going into shock. The officer motions at the young people. “Come along.”

The five of them look at each other uncertainly before standing and following the officer into the hall. Nancy catches sight of his badge: Chief E. O. McGinnis. 

Now, Nancy, being the daughter of a lawyer, should know her rights, and the right to remain silent is the biggest one, especially since she’s a minor, but she’s too confused and terrified to think straight. 

She’s being investigated for attempted murder. Attempted murder. God her mother’s going to kill her. 

The unlikely five line up against the wall. Chief McGinnis paces in front of them. “Alright. I’m looking at an ex-con,” he pauses in front of the guy from the truck. “The town screw up,” (this time he’s in front of George). “A city girl,” he’s in front of Bess now, who looks rather guilty in Nancy’s opinion. He moves to the fancy shirt guy standing next to Nancy. “An HBPD legacy and Nancy Drew.”

Except, that’s not what he says.

He pauses in front of Nancy, and tilts his head at her. “Who are you again?”

Nancy stares at him as the weird feeling of déjà vu hits her again. No. That’s not right. He knows who she is. 

But she doesn’t know who he is. 

Nancy feels her hands start to shake. Everything here is wrong. She should be sitting at the police station. She should know what’s happening. But she doesn’t because she’s being accused of attempted murder. 

But it shouldn’t be attempted. Nancy slides down the wall, her hands pulling at her skin where she can feel the ghost of a locket. 

My mother’s gonna kill me she thinks. But no, her mom’s dead. And Ryan isn’t George’s foster dad. He’s her dad.

This isn’t right.

This isn’t ri-

“Okay just give her space.” 

When Nancy comes to, she’s looking up into the face of the boy who had been working at the Bayside Claw. Nancy’s laying on the ground, her head against the cold tile. The boy gently slips an arm under her shoulders, helping her to sit up.

“Hey, are you okay?” he asks.

Nancy doesn’t know the answer to that. He can tell, so he tries a different question. “What’s your name?”

“Nancy Drew,” she croaks. He smiles.

“Hi Nancy Drew. My name is Ace Hardy.”

“Hi,” Nancy mumbles back.

“And that’s Nick,” Ace says, pointing to the boy from the truck who’s hovering on the outskirts of the circle of people around her. “I hear you’ve met the girls.”

Nancy nods and Ace gently slips his other arm under her knees, lifting her up in his arms like she weighs nothing. He walks her towards the waiting room, talking as he goes. “That, Nancy, was a panic attack. Have those often?”

Nancy leans her pounding head against his muscular shoulder. “No.”

“Well, first time for everything. Got anyone we can call?”

“My dad,” she mumbles. Ace nods to Bess, who rushes forward with her phone out. Nancy recites her father’s number, and Bess puts it to her ear.

“Hello? Hi, yes, this is Bess Marvin. I’m calling about your daughter. She’s in the hospital, she had a panic attack.” Bess is quiet for a moment. “Nancy Drew, yes.” After a moment, Bess rattles off directions and hangs up. 

Ace puts Nancy down on a chair next to Mr. Hudson. Nancy looks at him sideways. She’s about to say something to him when suddenly - as if her brain has been reset or something - she forgets what she was going to say.

“Want some water Nancy?” Ace asks. Nancy smiles at the unfamiliar boy. 

“Yes, please,” she says. He stands and heads to the water cooler, Bess taking his spot. “What did the officer mean by Ace is a legacy?”

“Oh, that,” Bess says sadly. “Ace’s father was a Captain on the police force. He was in a chase once when Ace was a child. His car got hit, and he didn’t make it.”

“That’s so sad,” Nancy says. 

“I know,” Bess agrees. “His mother is all he has. She’s a librarian, but she doesn’t make a lot of money. They just get by with her salary and the pension from the state. That’s why Ace turned down MIT. To work at The Claw.”

“That must be so hard,” Nancy says. She can’t imagine giving up her dream of going to Columbia. 

“It is,” Bess agrees as the doors to the waiting room are pushed open. Nancy sees her father and mother being trailed by an annoyed McGinnis.

“You can’t just take a suspect home! She has to be fingerprinted! She has to give her statement!”

Carson turns on McGinnis. “Excuse me, but my daughter is a minor and she’s had a panic attack.”

“We’re taking her,” Kate adds. She spots Nancy and rushes to her, crouching to put her hands on either side of her daughter’s face. “Nancy, baby, are you okay?”

“Yeah, just tired.”

“Okay, we’re taking you home, don’t worry, Mom’s here.”

It’s a simple statement, and normally Nancy would complain that it makes her sound like a child, but it relaxes her nonetheless. She slumps into her mom, letting the exhaustion and confusion sink over her. 

Kate runs her fingers through her red hair as Carson argues with McGinnis, who finally relents. 

“Fine, fine, you all can go if Drew is going. But I expect you back at the station at eight am sharp.”

Nancy is pulled to her feet by her mother, and before she moves, she puts a hand on Mr. Hudson’s shoulder. “Your wife will get better sir,” she says. Mr. Hudson puts his hand over hers. 

“Thanks.”

Nancy waves goodbye to everyone else before following her parents. As she falls asleep in the back seat of her dad’s car, all she can think is that something about this entire night is off. 

[goldenavenger02]

Susz!!! If you’re looking for requests, maybe Whump Prompt 572 can be a continuation of your drabble where Peter snapped (instead of Tony)?? 👀

(Part 1 here)

•••

8 hours.

Peter had been in surgery for 8 hours, and it was going to drive Tony out of his mind.

Everyone else had been patched up from the fight, and Pepper was now sitting with him in the waiting room, holding an exhausted Morgan on her lap as they waited in their metal suits.

"You should let Happy take her home." Tony tried at hour 5, but Pepper shook her head, holding their daughter tightly.

"I need at least one of the kids tonight."

So they waited, with hands held and breath baited, until finally, Helen came out of the revolving doors, rubbing her eyes as she did so.

"How is he?" Tony asked, standing up as he did so, trying to read the look on her face. "How's my kid?"

"We did everything we could, Dr. Strange and I...there was no way we could save his arm." Helen whispered the last bit, and as much as Tony wanted to brush it off, just being happy Peter was alive, the words he said to him before going under rang in his head. 'D-don't let them cut it off.'

"Can I see him?"

Helen nodded, motioning for Tony to follow her, but before he did, he turned back to his wife and his daughter. "Can you call May?"

Pepper nodded, still rocking Morgan in her arms, and with that, Tony followed her to the recovery wing of the medical facility, which ended up being winding halls until they finally stopped at the door farthest away from the waiting room.

"He's still asleep, and he's most likely not going to take it well, so just let me know when he's awake, so I can break it to him."

Tony nodded, and with that, Helen opened the door and he held in a breath when he saw the kid.

The paleness, the tube down his throat, and the needles in Peter's left hand were all to be expected, but what really shocked him were the bandages around his right arm...or where his right arm should be.

Tony sat down beside his bed, hearing the door click shut as he did so, before holding his left hand gently. He couldn't believe it. He had his kid back. He had Peter back. "I'm not letting you go again, kid. Never again."

•••

"Ow ow ow." Peter hissed, squeezing his eyes shut as one of the nurses cleaned the burn on his face.

"Sorry, Peter. We're just trying to get you healed enough so the regeneration cradle doesn't hurt you." The nurse apologized, still dabbing at the wound.

Peter just nodded, before squeezing Tony's hand tighter. "I've got you, Pete."

The nurse finished cleaning the wound on his face, but when Dr. Cho came in, and they started getting ready to look at the amputation sight, Tony watched as Peter watch their hands with a fearful look in his eyes as they started to peal away the bandages.

"Hey, Pete," He gently tapped on his hand, bringing the teen's attention to him, "You called Ned yesterday, right? How is he doing?"

"He's okay." Peter mumbled. "Still adjusting, cause his niece who was five is now ten and he is still 16, but he's getting used to it. Says they've gotten a lot closer." Peter flinched and looked over at the wound. "Ow."

“Eyes on me, buddy, ignore what the nurses are doing. Okay? Just look at me, I’m here, alright? - I know- I know it hurts, but it will be over soon, alright? That’s it, eyes on me.” Tony assured him once he saw the tears welling up in Peter's eyes.

"It really hurts, Mr. Stark."

"Just try and breathe through it." Tony insisted, guiding Peter through the same breathing exercises that had gotten Pepper through labor until fresh bandages were wrapped over the amputation site and he finally started to crash.

Tony smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to Peter's forehead before pulling the blankets over his shoulder. "Get some rest, buddy."

[sadistgalore]

Chapter 14: The (Ex) Detective and The Secretary

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Taglist: @tropes-for-my-md-daydreams, @whumptakesthecake

Please let me know if you would like to be added/removed from the taglist.

Ok, this chapter is purely just to continue the story and lore purposes, and contains no whump at all, so feel free to skip it. I'm planning to post some Killian and Luther tomorrow to make up for it. If you're confused by this chapter at all, I would recommend reading these two first (x,y)

CW: pepper spray, mention of kidnapping, implied kidnapping, no whump found

“Motion 68B….Bill 72A….Motion 43….B? No, that’s not right. Damn it!” Elizabeth slammed her pen on her desk, throwing her head into her hands.

She had been here since seven in the morning, and Helene had made her stay late to make up for missed work. Missed work that happened because she was more concerned about looking for her roommate that disappeared.

“Okay, let’s just start from the beginning, Beth. Helene wants to pass-” She heard a clatter.

She sat up straight, everything had been quiet for the past four hours. She shook her head, figuring it was one of the security guards. Everything was quiet again for a moment, but then she heard footsteps that sounded like they were in a different room.

She was about to pass it off again, but security never made their way to the top floor where she was, due to Congresswoman McKinley’s strict orders. She heard another clatter once she got up, and knew immediately that it came from the documents room. That only she, the congresswoman, and a few others had access to- not including security.

So it can’t have been them, everyone else has gone home for the night, then who else could it be?

She got up from her desk and made her way towards the room, taking out her pepper spray from her handbag as a precaution. A gun would’ve been better, but Harper made sure she never used one, and always gave her a look when Beth would go snooping for the hidden one in their apartment.

The secretary made her way down the hall and into the document room, preparing herself for defense. Whoever was in the room broke in, and was searching through several classified files. It was Elizabeth’s job to stop them at all costs. She ran her keycard, and opened the door.

The figure rummaging through the files froze, turning just before a sharp and painful spray flew into his face. “AH! FUCKING HELL!” The intruder, who sounded like a man, writhed on the ground, clutching his eyes.

Beth stood above him, hand with the can pointed towards him. “What are you doing here? I swear to god I won’t hesitate to spray again!”

The man stopped, carefully moving his hands from his eyes. He knew that voice.

“E….E-Eliz-za-zabeth?”

Beth lowered her hand, brows furrowed in confusion. “How do you know my name?”

She was answered with a groan, and pulled out the flashlight on her phone. Beth gasped as she could clearly see the familiar brown skin and scruffy back hair of her friend, Harper’s detective partner, eyes red and running with tears.

“Oh my god! Nic! I’m so sorry!” She said as she rushed over to him.

“H-Hey...ah….’Lizbeth.”

“I could slap you right now if your eyes weren’t burning! Come on,” she grunted as she picked him up and put his weight around her arm. They walked back towards her office, where Beth threw Nic into her chair and rushed to the kitchen. There, she grabbed a small towel and soaked it in milk.

She got back to her desk, handing Nicholas the soaked towel. “Alright, just put this over your eyes and the pain should go away.” She took a moment to see that he was alright, tears no longer running down his face. Then she exploded. “What in the fuck were you thinking breaking into the congresswoman’s office?! How did you even-”Beth stopped in her sentence, remembering this morning and how she couldn’t find her keycard to the file room. “Nicholas! Helene almost killed me when I told her I lost my keycard and you stole it?!”

Nic sighed and gave her a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry, Beth, I really am. But I needed to get into the room, and you wouldn’t have given me the keycard.”

“You could’ve asked instead of breaking into a government building! Aren’t you a detective? You know you’re supposed to have a warrant, not scrummage for clues like Batman.”

Nic hesitantly pulled the milk rag away from his puffy eyes and blinked painfully. “About that...I kind of got fired.”

Beth blinked. “What?”

“Chief fired me. Said I was getting too involved in Harper’s disappearance.”

“She’s your partner.”

“I know,” Nic winced as he rolled his eyes which were slowly starting to burn less and their conversation went on. “What kind of boyfriend- partner would I be if I didn’t at least try?”

“Boyfriend?”

“No, it’s-“ Nic sighed. “We were never that serious, more of a partners with benefits situation, but I still cared about her. I’ve always have, lovers or not.”

There was a long silence, until the girl spoke up again. “What did you need from Helene’s office?”

“Evidence. About her affiliation with the Jaguars.”

Beth stared at the ex-detective in shock. “Nic, I've been her assistant for almost three years. I would know if she was dealing with a criminal organization.”

“Then you’re not a great assistant. She’s either funding them, covering their crimes up, or working alongside them.”

Beth stood up in mild defense. “Listen, Helene’s a bitch and a half but she’s not a monster.”

Nic's eyes were devoid of any humor. “I’m serious, Elizabeth. And it’s not just her, I have at least five other government officials who are in league with the Jaguars, and I believe that your boss might be one of them. Or, at the very least, married to one of them.”

“Married? That’s impossible, she’s been single as long as I’ve known her.”

“Not according to an anonymous call I got. Whoever they were, they knew I was looking for Harper and led me in the direction of investigating the Jaguars and Congresswoman McKinley’s affiliation with them. They told me that Helene McKinley and Edward Darmine were married.”

“Edward Darmine? As in-”

“Dark, leader of the Vault Dwellers, the biggest weapons dealers in the Northeast. The same man that killed Harper’s father and took her brother.”

Beth huffed, growing frustrated as all she heard were lies and false accusations. “Are you seriously telling me that the man that ruined Harper’s life is married to my boss and she is part of the most dangerous organization in the entire Northeast? And you’ve found all this out in what, a month? While me and Harper have been looking into them for years?!”

“Yes.”

Beth stared at the ex-detective for a moment, then pointed towards the door. “Out.”

Nic’s mouth dropped open in shock. “Beth-“

“No, Nic, I can’t deal with this right now. Just leave.”

Nic stayed for just a moment longer, then got up and left.

“Wait.”

He anxiously turned back around, hoping his friend had changed his mind.

“Leave the key. And be grateful that I’m not reporting this to security tomorrow morning.”

Nic nodded, and dropped the key in the ground. Right as he reached the door, he said one last thing. “I’m telling the truth, Beth. If you want to start believing me and find Harper, call me.”

Beth said nothing as the man walked out, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

---

Helene turned off her computer after reviewing the security tapes, sitting back in her chair.

“Ma’am? What do you suggest we do with them?” Said a man next to her.

“Give me a moment please.”

The man nodded and left her office, a different one than the one she shared with her secretary in DC. She pulled out her phone, and dialed a number in her contacts.

“Yes, darling?”

“Edward, we have a problem. The detective, Nicholas Malcolm, found out about me.”

“He knows you’re one of the Jaguars?”

“Not just that, he also knows we’re married.”

“How? No one outside our organization knows that we’re married.”

“He said he found out from an anonymous source. Who that is, I don’t know, but now he and my secretary know.”

“The Carrien girl.”

“Yes. I know the right option would be to kill them, but I want Elizabeth alive. I don’t care about the boy.”

“He could be useful. I’ll convince someone else to take him. What will you do with the girl?”

“I’ll keep her as my secretary, but she could always be made into something more in the future.”

“Take that up with the boss.”

“I’ll try. And if I’m going to do this, I’ll be gone for a few weeks to make sure she’s settled in and everything is covered up. I might have to train her at the Philadelphia base.”

“Do what you need to do. Just let me know, Helene.”

“I will. I love you, Edward.”

There was a sigh on the other end. “Love you too.”

Helene hung up and called the man back into her office. “By tomorrow’s sunrise, I want Elizabeth Carrien in Philadelphia and Nicholas Malcom in a holding cell. Burn both of their apartments down. I’ll deal with the rest, but I want them alive and unharmed.”

“Yes, Mrs. Darmine.”

Helene looked over to an old photograph on her desk, a picture of two young girls with blonde hair. “I do hope you can be useful to us, Elizabeth.”

[thefatedthoughtofyou]

Dirty Deeds (Done Dirt Cheap) - Part 16

Summary: Sam inherits Steve Roger's crime empire after a handful of his men betray and kill him. The rest of the crime world, sensing an opening, go after Sam and the territories he's inherited from Steve. Thankfully, Steve left him a number, someone to call if he ever needs help. Someone, Steve claimed, he can trust. But can Sam really trust a mercenary with that much blood on his name? And that many knives in his pockets.

WARNINGS: (there will eventually be all of these things) blood, violence, murder, shooting, stabbing, sex, blood play , food related things: malnutrition, feeding, blow jobs, bathing/washing, chronic pain. Limb loss and regrowth. Bullet wounds. Gore.

18+ Content: Make Good Choices Kids <3

Ao3

He wakes to the sun warming his face, and burning his eyes, as it shines through the heavy curtains over the window that isn't his. His sits up quickly, breathing heavy, before he remembers he's at Sam's. He rubs at his eyes as his heart calms, the pounding in his ears fading as he swings his feet out of bed. He rests his elbows on his knees and then rests his head in his hands. A knock at the door comes, he doesn't move.

"Mr. Barn- sorry, Bucky?" Comes Torres's voice through the door.

"Yeah?" Bucky asks, still not moving.

"Sam's in his office. Whenever you're ready." The kid says, Bucky nods and then realizes Torres can't see him.

"I'll be down presently." He says, as sarcastically as he can through his freshly awakened haze. He hears Torres snort on the other side of the door.

"I'll let him know." There's a pause, the sound of Torres taking a few steps and then turning around.

"There's some fresh cut fruit in the kitchen if you're hungry." His voice says, quietly, Bucky can practically see him blushing on the other side of the door.

"Thanks kid." He says, finally moving, lifting his head and watching as Torres' shadow disappears from the space beneath the door.

He sighs and looks at the ceiling, poping his neck before looking back down. There are blood stains on the carpet from the day before. He can see Helen's footprints in some of them. He'd have to thank her again. She was always saving him when he was being an idiot. He grabs at his boots near the foot of the bed. Pulling on the pair of socks that had been shoved into them. He tucks the baggy sweats he'd been given into his boots and laces them tightly, grimacing at the feel of left over blood around his foot.

He makes his way downstairs, passing the kitchen without a glance, stopping outside of Sam's office. He takes a deep breath and then knocks, three raps of his knuckles in rapid succession.

"Come in." Sam's voice says. He sounds tired. Bucky turns the knob and walks into the dark office, closing the door behind him. He turns to see Sam watching him.

"Feeling better?" He asks, and Bucky can't tell if he's genuinely asking or just being an ass. Bucky smiles at him and drops himself into one of the chairs in front of Sam's desk.

"All good. Shouldn't you be... not here?" Bucky asks, pointing around the room, glaring at Sam.

"I've been in here for ten mintues. And I wasn't having this conversation in that fucking panic room." Sam says, laying his hands flat on the desk and glaring back. Bucky looks at him, he still looks tired, and annoyed. Bucky fights a smirk, knowing he's annoyed because of him. He thinks back, remembers the one time he'd spent time in that room with Steve, and decides to let it go.

"Fair enough." He says, nodding. He watches Sam's eyes widen, clearly shocked, for just the fraction of a second before he schooled his features again.

"So. Who are these people?" Sam asks, leaning back, relaxing a bit in his chair. Bucky takes a deep breath.

"They are... assassins. Old friends of mine, actually. Well, friends is probably a strong word. Let's go with acquaintances. We've worked together a few times." Bucky explained, badly.

"Acquaintances." Sam says, his voice flat as he stares at Bucky. Bucky nods.

"You're acquaintances, are trying to kill me." Sam says, voice still emotionless.

"Past acquaintances." Bucky says with a tilt of his head. Sam closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, Bucky presses his lips together, trying not to smile.

"So someone hired them? To kill me?" Sam asks, his eyes opening slowly.

"I would assume so, yeah. That's usually how it works unless-" Bucky froze, his fingers curling around the arms of the chair so hard the wood creaked.

"Unless?" Sam asked, his eyebrows rising, impatience in his voice.

"Gimme your phone." He said, holding his hand out. Sam stared at him, not moving, Bucky shook his hand and Sam moved to dig it out of his pocket. He held it out, pulling it back a little as Bucky reached for it, his eyes widening again.

"I'm not gonna do anything bad." Bucky said, he was leaning foward now, his butt on the edge of his seat as his out stretched hand chased after Sam's. Sam moved forward again, dropping the phone in his hand.

Bucky tapped at the screen for a few moments, checking all the usual places, the number that popped onto the screen when he entered his passcode had his stomach turning. He grimaced at the phone and sighed, shaking his head.

"What? What is it?" Sam asked, his voice hard now, like he was reaching the end of his patience.

"They put a bounty on you." Bucky said, erasing the history in Sam's phone and tossing it back. He watched Sam check the screen and then put the phone away again. Watched him swallow roughly before looking back up at Bucky.

"How much?"

"A lot." Bucky said, licking his lips and shoving the baggy sleeves of Sam's shirt up his arms.

"How much Barnes?" Sam almost growled at him. Bucky took a deep breath and leaned forward.

"75 million."

Sam's eyes widened again, he stared at Bucky.

"Seventy five..." Sam trailed off, his eyes going a bit glassy.

"Million. Yeah." Bucky finished, furrowing his brow as he looked at Sam.

"They really want you dead man." Bucky said, grimacing slightly as soon as the words left his mouth.

"Yeah no shit." Sam said.

"Sorry." Bucky shrugged, leaned back in his chair again.

"What the fuck am I supposed to do now? I'm not fucking living in that goddamn panic room. I'll go insane." Sam said, pushing himself to his feet, his chair rolling backwards with the force of it.

"I don't know yet." Bucky said.

"You don't know? That's fuckin helpful!" Sam shouted, throwing his hands up at his sides.

"Hey, I'm working on it. These people? Everyone, that's gonna be coming after you? They're trained. Like me and Wade. They're not just a room full of mobsters trying to play highnoon at the O.K. Corral." Bucky tried to keep his voice level. Sam turned on him fast.

"Oh and that went so well didn't it? You got shot. Twice. And Wade lost a fucking arm. And a foot. Somehow!" Sam growled, stalking closer to Bucky. He stayed in his seat, not rising to the argument Sam was trying to start.

"What can I say? Shit happens. And the foot was... later." Bucky said, avoiding Sam's eyes at the memory of cutting off Wade's foot.

"Listen," he started, before Sam could shout at him again.

"I understand you're stressed. This shit, is stressful. But if you go into this half cocked, people are gonna die. Your people. And I know you don't want that. And I know that you're smart. You know it's not a good idea to rush this." Bucky stood finally, putting himself eye level with Sam.

"I know you're wound tight right now. But you gotta calm down. Just, take a breath. And we can brain storm. And then we can kill these fuckers, and get your shit back under control." Bucky reached out, aiming for Sam's shoulder and hitting nothing but air as Sam pulled away from him. He made a fist in the air and dropped his hand. Watching Sam stare at him, his chest rising and falling quickly. He took a deep breath, his hands moving toward himself, motioning for Sam to do the same. He held in the smile threatening at his lips as Sam did as he was directed. Bucky let the breath out, nodding as Sam did the same.

He watched Sam lean against the desk, his hand holding him up as he took another slow breath.

"Better?" Bucky asked, tilting his head to get into Sam's eyeline.

"Yes." Sam sounded annoyed. He moved his hand over his face and stood up straight again.

"We need a plan then." Sam said, his eyes going steely as he looked at Bucky. Bucky could see the gears turning, Sam's thoughts racing behind his eyes.

"That we do. A good one too. Like the ones Steve used to tell me stories about." Bucky said, smirking when Sam's eyes snapped to him, looking shocked again and forgetting to hide it.

"He was proud of you Sam." Bucky took a step forward.

"He wouldn't have left this to you, if he didn't think you could handle it." Bucky wanted to reach out again, give Sam's shoulder a squeeze, but he didn't, he bit his lip and nodded instead. His eyes locked on Sam's, waiting for him to respond. Sam nodded back, slowly, and opened his mouth to say something. The house shaking around them and the explosion that filled the air cut him off, making Bucky's ears ring as they both dropped to the floor, crouching next to Sam's desk, Bucky putting himself between Sam and the only entrance to his office.

Bucky looked to the door, Torres burst in, and he could see a cloud of dust in the hall behind him.

"What do we do?" Torres shouted, there was blood dripping out of his ears, he kept wiping at it. Bucky grabbed his wrists, stopping him.

"You all have to get out if here. Take Maria and Helen and go. I'll take Sam." He shouted, raising his brows at Torres until he nodded. Bucky looked at Sam, he was crouched next to him, his side pressed to Bucky's as he watched them, his eyes moving to the door over and over.

"Everyone else needs to scatter. I don't care where. There's safe houses all over the city. Get to one. And stay there." He looked at Torres again, waiting for him to process what he'd told him.

"Okay! Be careful!" He shouted back, each of his hands going to Bucky and Sam's shoulders, they nodded at him. Bucky watched him disappear again, coughing as he ran into the hall, shouting for Helen and Maria. Bucky turned back to Sam, the ringing in his ears quieting.

"I'm gonna get you outta here. Stay close to me." He grabbed Sam's hand, stood up, and placed Sam's hand on his shoulder.

"Do not let go until I say you can." He told Sam, staring at him.

"I won't." Sam said, shouting a little, his ears no doubt ringing as well. Bucky nodded, felt Sam's hand fist in his shirt, and ran out into the hall.

He stayed low, Sam right behind him, as he made his way through the dusty hall, he didn't see much damage. The explosion must have been at the other end of the house, or at least around the corner. Bucky couldn't tell, it had been loud, but that didn't mean it had been close. They ran into a few gaurds on their way, Sam echoing Bucky's orders to scatter at them and sending them on their way. Bucky pushed the kitchen door open slowly, looking into the empty room before dragging Sam through the door. He stood up then, moving to the pantry, he moved into it and shut the door behind him.

"You can let go." He told Sam, and felt his tight grip disappear.  He moved his hand over the shelf along the right wall, looking for what he knew was there.

"Why are we in the pantry?" Sam whispered, still staying close to Bucky's side.

"Because, somewhere around here, there's a..." Bucky trailed off, his hands moving under the shelf now, fingers searching.

"Aha! There's a switch." He told Sam, smiling at him as he pressed it, the wall sliding to the side, opening to show a small dark room.

"Come on." Bucky said, motioning for Sam to go before him. He stepped in after him and slid the wall back into place.

"What is this?" Sam asked, looking around in the extremely dimly lit room. Bucky looked at him for a moment, and then grabbed the rifle hanging on the wall. He swung the strap over his head, so the gun was resting agaisnt his back.

"It's a-" Bucky turned to Sam in the low light.

"It's a secret get away tunnel." He said, smiling an awkward smile. He bent down and grabbed the duffle bag that was waiting on the floor, hanging that around his neck as well.

"A secret..." Sam's voice trailed off.

"Get away tunnel, yeah. I know it sounds made up, but I promise it's not. Excuse me." Bucky gently nudged Sam out of the way, pressing him back agaisnt one wall before kneeling down. He pressed his hands to the ground, hard, and then lifted them, watching as the previously invisible square of concrete lifted from the floor. Bucky lifted the hatch to reveal a ladder and looked up Sam.

"After you." He said, smiling. Sam glared down at him before kneeling at his side.

"Where does this go? How long has this been here?" He asked, not moving. Bucky looked at him and sighed.

"It's been here forever. Since before the house was here. And it goes somewhere safe. Now can we please." He motioned to the dark hole in the floor. Sam looked at him skeptically for another short moment and then moved, setting one foot on the ladder and then climbing in.

"There we go. Okay." Bucky waited for Sam to disappear into the dark before lowering himself onto the ladder and following. Once he was far enough in, he reached up and pulled the hatch shut above him, sending them into complete darkness.

"Hey!" Sam's shakey voice called from below him.

"Sorry bout that. But we can't leave it open." Bucky heard Sam sigh in relief beneath him as his foot hit the floor. Bucky went down a few more steps before jumping down. He tensed when he felt Sam's hand on his shoulder.

"Hang on a sec i haaaave..." Bucky drug out the last word as he rummaged in the duffle bag. His hands found what they were looking for quickly and he brought it out, snapping the large glow stick and shaking it in front of him as light bloomed before them. He watched Sam's body droop as the orange light pushed the darkness back a bit.

"Afraid of the dark are we?" Bucky teased, handing Sam the glow stick and grabbing another for himself. He popped it and laughed at the look Sam was giving him.

"Not the dark. Dark, strange tunnels, underneath my house? Maybe." Sam said, rolling his eyes as he held the light up, looking at their surroundings.

Behind the ladder was a solid concrete wall, and opposite that, the tunnel stretched on in a pitch black square. Bucky took a deep breath, looking into the dark.

"We gotta go." He told Sam, taking a few steps, Sam didn't move.

"Where does this go?" He asked again, his eyes locked on the darkness ahead of them. Bucky rolled his eyes, moving back a step, he grabbed Sam's hand, snapping him out of the shock he was in.

"Come on. We have to go." Sam shook his head, as if to clear it, and Bucky tugged on his hand, pulling Sam into the dark without further explanation.

~

They walked for miles. Bucky never letting go of Sam's hand. He ignored the way Sam never once tried to pull out of his grasp. They passed one or two off shooting tunnles on the way, but nothing else. Not even rats. Which was Bucky was glad for, he fuckin hated seeing rats down here. Sam stayed quiet, keeping pace mostly, and staying close. Their dim lights eventually illuminated another ladder and Bucky finally released Sam's hand, ignoring the sweat on his palm, wiping it on his pants.

Bucky climbed up the ladder, pressed his thumb to the print reader there, and waited for the click. He shoved the hatch open with a grunt, squinting as light shown into his eyes, not bright light, but after being in the dark for so long, he may as well have been looking into the sun. He climbed a few more steps and noticed he didn't hear Sam climing after him. He sighed, and climbed out if the hole, turning and looking back down. He could see Sam, his hand on the ladder in the circle of light, looking up at him.

"What's up there Bucky?" He asked again, tucking his glowstick into the waist of his pants, resting both hands on the ladder now.

Bucky sighed, his neck feeling hot as he looked at Sam. He fell back onto his heels and rubbed at his neck, his fingers dragging through his hair as he rolled his eyes at himself, his stomach twisting. He cleared his throat and leaned back over the hole in the floor, looking down at Sam looking up at him. He took a deep breath.

"My place." He sighed.

"It's my place."

Sam stared at him for a moment, hands clenching and unclenching on the ladder. Bucky heard him take a deep breath before lifting his foot onto the ladder as well. Bucky's stomach swam nervously as he watched Sam climb toward the light, moving closer and closer to him. 

Closer to his, abandoned, dilapidated, mess of a building. Closer to his emtpy frigde. Closer to his sparce furniture and sheetless beds. Bucky watched Sam climb closer and closer, his heart beating faster and faster. His hands itching to slam the hatch shut with each rung Sam moved past. Why the fuck had he brought Sam here. Sam's hand hit the top rung and then reached out, startling Bucky out of his thoughts. Sam looked up at Bucky, his eyes squinting from the light.

Bucky grabbed his hand, a strained smile on his lips, his heart pounding in his ears, his stomach fluttering as his thoughts raced.

Bucky held onto his hand tightly, and pulled Sam out of the dark.