#I changed up their hairstyles for this but I still can’t look at Connor the same with this | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

chironshorseass · 4 years ago

Text

melted ice cream sandwiches

Thanks, @silenabeth, for subconsciously adding your presence into this jksdhoisfjs. This one’s for you. Sorry it’s angsty, but oh well.

In which Percy and Annabeth have an argument, Connor Still chops off Annabeth's braid with a sword, and then she and Percy have a talk. It doesn't nearly go as planned, but at least they ate some ice cream sandwiches.

Rated T for language.

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(The Hero's soul, cursed blade shall reap)

A baby is born

Crying out for attention

The memories fade

Like looking through a fogged mirror

Decision to decisions are made

And not bought

But I thought this wouldn't hurt a lot

I guess not

“I’m your friend, of course I care!”

“You shouldn’t be my friend! That way it wouldn’t hurt so much!” Annabeth says.

It had started off as a simple comment, nothing too serious. Something about Annabeth not wanting him to help with reports—but Percy’s beginning to realize that anything can explode into an argument.

“What are you talking about?” he demands. Luckily, they’re near the woods, so at least no demigod can hear them. Not like last time.

“Just—I’m tired of you going away! You can’t have it both ways, Percy. Either you’re not my friend and forget about all this shit, or you stay here and fight him.”

“Why can’t I have it both ways? Last time I checked, I’ve spent enough time at camp to train. And why are you suddenly all gloomy and shit about being friends with me? Do you just...want me to be Luke? Make you feel better? Do you even give a shit about what he did?”

Her face reddens. “Why would any of this be about Luke?”

“Because that’s all we fight about! You seem to have it in yourself to see him as this amazing hero when he’s the entire opposite of that!” Percy knows that what he’s saying is slightly ridiculous, and that she’s right; this has nothing to do about Luke, but he doesn’t particularly care at the moment. “Because the last prophecy was about him! You ‘lost’ the bastard to Kronos and you want him back, is that it?”

“What? Yes, I want him back—but, no, I—”

“He’s hurt you so much, Annabeth. You seriously care for him? You seriously don’t want to be my friend because you—you hate that I hate him?”

“Yes, I care for him! You didn’t know him when I did—but you mean so much—”

“He wanted to kill you!” Percy grabs her by the shoulders so they’re face to face, so she understands exactly what he’s talking about. “He doesn’t fucking care! Why can’t you see that?”

“All I see,” Annabeth seethes, shoving him off, “is a scared little boy who wants everything to be black and white.”

“You’re one to talk, telling me that I have to either stay in New York or stay at camp. I’m trying to make that work—”

“Work how, exactly? So that everyone here takes on the weight of the war while you go off and act all ‘normal’? Here’s a quick disclaimer: you’re not normal, Percy!”

“Don’t you think I know that? I’m this close to probably dying, so forgive me for wanting to cool off a bit.”

They’re nose to nose now, and Percy can feel Annabeth breathing heavily, nostrils flared.

“Shut up,” she says.

“What?”

“Just, shut up!”

She storms away before he can say anything else. The early singing of the birds doesn't sound so sweet anymore.

He can see her wipe at her face angrily as she runs to gods know where. He knows that she won’t let him see her cry.

He’s in the archery class, trying not to kill anyone, when he hears commotion by the arena.

“No! I’m fine!” a familiar voice keeps insisting—Annabeth.

She stomps past a very concerned-looking Connor. Her hair is pulled into two braids, as it was earlier in the morning. She’d been experimenting with different hairstyles—it probably had something to do with Silena’s influence—but now, Percy realizes that one of her braids is missing. It had been cut off, by the looks of it.

He lowers his bow, walking over to them. Something had happened, and it hadn’t been good.

“I’m so sorry, ‘Beth,” Connor says, this time truly sounding sorry. “I didn’t know that you wouldn’t block me—if there’s any way to repay you—“

She stops her fast-walking and turns towards him. “You’ve done enough.”

“Okay but I—”

“Hey!” Percy calls out as he approaches them. “What happened?” Annabeth suddenly starts walking again.

Connor stares at him sheepishly. “I sort of, um, cut her hair.”

Percy ignores him. “Annabeth? Come on! Don’t walk away—I’m asking you something!”

“And I don’t care to answer.”

“Can I help? In any way?”

“I don’t need your help, either.”

He sprints over to her anyway, grabbing one of her shoulders. “Come on, why—”

She shoulders him off.

Percy hears the steady footsteps of someone right behind them: Connor.

“Annabeth. Please,” he pants, running ahead and facing her. He walks backwards while she walks forward, a mule with a job in mind. “I’m so sorry. But where are we going?”

“‘We?’” she mutters, not looking at either of them. “None of your fucking business, assholes. Now leave me alone!"

Annabeth shoves them out of her path and runs. Runs before either of them can catch up. She’s always been faster than both of them.

What hits him there in the middle of a summer day, staggered with only a son of Hermes as a companion, is the pain he heard in her voice. And Percy has a feeling that it’s more than just her missing braid.

No, he is the cause of that pain—he’s the one to blame. And he feels like dying a little.

He sits by the canoe lake, the sun reaching further west because of the time. But even with the sun not directly above him, it still feels like laser beams down his neck.

Silena meets him there. Her camp shirt is tucked into her shorts in a stylish way that very few people can achieve, hair perfectly in place and without even a slight sheen of sweat on her face

Percy doesn’t know how she does it. It’s the middle of July, after all.

She sits down, pulling her legs into her chest and leaning in, watching him.

“Everything okay?” he asks.

She sighs, though it’s barely noticeable. “I came to talk to you. About Annabeth.”

He catches her gaze, but for the first time, Percy can’t tell what she’s thinking.

“She’s fine. If that’s what’s worrying you. Well, not exactly ‘fine,’ but—like, she’s not hurt. Physically.”

“That’s reassuring.”

Silena snorts and follows his eyes towards the swaying trees on the other side of the lake. They look so peaceful there, almost as if they’re dancing. Maybe they are. Maybe they don’t care about wars or drama.

Good for them.

“No,” she muses. “I guess she’s hurting, and not just because I had to cut so much of her pretty hair. Almost made me want to cry. She didn’t say much, but I can always tell when you two had a fight.”

“If you’re here to lecture me—”

“Oh, come on. I may be close to her, but I’m not the type to meddle. I just came here to tell you that you should talk to her.”

“Then you are meddling.”

She laughs. “Okay, maybe I am. And maybe I also talked to her about it. She’s not that mad at you. Mostly sad. It would do you both good if you actually worked things out.”

“Trust me, she hates me at the moment.”

“And trust me, she doesn’t. She wants you to go to her.”

They stare at each other, both gazes challenging, until one of them loses.

Percy breathes out a sigh of defeat. “Fine.”

Girls are so weird, he thinks.

But maybe he says that part aloud, because Silena rolls her eyes. “I heard that.”

“Of course you did.”

She winks at him. “Maybe you should give her an ice cream sandwich. You know, as a truce. I heard that the Hermes cabin stashed some from their last raid.”

“Um, I thought Annabeth wanted to talk to me. Why would we need a truce?”

“Oh, she certainly does. But ice cream never hurt anyone.”

“Fine. Whatever you say.”

“That’s the spirit,” she grins.

Percy finds her at the beach, in the part where grass is more common than sand. It’s dry and brittle, yellowed from scarce rain—but next to her it looks like golden thread.

Her hair is cut just above her shoulders, like a bob. He’d never seen her with short hair before, but he thinks that it makes her look older, in a way. Changes from that pretty girl he’d met nearly four years ago to a beautiful young woman. At least that’s what she’s making him feel.

Gods, she’s too good for me.

Percy takes a deep breath and clears his throat. Hopefully this can end well, because just by looking at her makes him nervous.

Annabeth had probably heard him coming, since she doesn’t startle at the sound.

That could be a good sign.

“Mind if I join you?”

She says nothing, but she also doesn’t protest when Percy sits down next to her.

“Uh…” He takes out the ice cream sandwiches that were in his pocket. “Do you, like, want any?”

She nearly smiles. Nearly. And she nods hesitantly, snatching one from his hand.

Good.

He doesn’t care that she still can’t meet his eyes. Or maybe he does care. And maybe he also cares that the space between them feels like the wind holding its breath, how her skin looks so warm, but instead of feeling it, he feels the grass tickling his legs.

“Um, it—you look pretty, that way…” he says, mainly to break the silence, but now he wants to slap himself. “Not that your hair wasn’t pretty before or anything. Well, not your hair, I mean—you were pretty before. Uh, not that you’re not pretty now—”

“It’s okay, Seaweed Brain. I get it. My haircut isn’t that bad.”

He can see her smiling from the corner of his eye. He doesn’t remember the last time she called him by his old nickname, least of all smile. Hopefully he isn’t blushing as much as he thinks.

“Silena helped. Before, it looked like half of my hair had been chopped with a sword—which it had, I guess. I’m still planning my revenge.”

“For Connor?”

Annabeth turns to Percy. “Yes. Connor… ” her gaze falters. She stares longingly out at the ocean, eyes blinking rapidly.

They don’t say much for a while, but rather listen to the song of the birds and the wind and the ocean. The grass between them flutter like butterflies, slight touches against their legs.

Annabeth rips the plastic off the ice cream sandwich and takes a big bite. He slips off the package of his own sandwich as well, but stops to notice how the vanilla melts under her fingers and how it oozes from her mouth and down to her chin. His own hands are covered in the soft feeling of the chocolate cookie, sticky and gross; his sandwich is almost melted in the harsh sunlight. He doesn’t wipe his hands away or feel like eating it anymore, and she doesn’t care to clean her chin up, either.

They’re both a mess.

The vanilla ice cream softens in his mouth, and an explosion of chocolate sweetness ensues after, but not before a big portion of the sandwich falls into his shorts and slips into the dry grass between his legs.

He hates ice cream sandwiches.

Why it was a good idea to share some in Long Island, during the warm days of summer, he has no idea. But the spray of salt that kiss their cheeks alongside the cacophonous roar of the waves make the situation not that horrible. At least in Percy’s opinion. Also Annabeth not mad at him anymore is a plus. Or perhaps she is. Their fight earlier in the day wasn’t exactly pretty.

She finishes her sandwich and licks some of the chocolate off her fingers.

“I just,” she says, taking a deep breath. “I’m tired. Of the same thing. Over and over. It’s not even Connor’s fault. Hell, this time it’s not your fault, either. I’m just...stupid.”

“Hey. Don’t ever say that. You are many things, Annabeth Chase, but stupid isn’t one of them.”

She must feel his heated gaze on her, because she meets his eyes. She quickly wipes away her tears.

“Maybe I wasn’t before. But now, I kind of am. I—I get carried away by you and how you’re never here, and I don’t even think about how close we are to the end, and then I can’t even fight well anymore—so Connor fucking Stoll cuts off one of my braids.

“And then I look weird and I can’t even cut my hair properly, so Silena helps and she looks at me like I’m...like I’m some poor creature! And I’m not! I just want things the way they were with my hair the way it was and with no wars and no prophecies and no shitty feelings and no...no traitors! I don’t care about quests, or glory—I can’t even fucking do that right because you almost died and Luke is now freaking possessed—and I...I want everything back the way it was!” she sobs into her hands, smearing her face with the remaining ice cream and chocolate.

Percy doesn’t know what to do. He wants to hug her, pull her close and tell her it’ll be alright. Kiss the top of her head and reassure her that they’ll make it out alive. But he doesn’t. Or at least, he doesn’t say any of those things.

But he does scoot closer, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and placing her head against the crook of his neck. He lets her weep until there are no tears left, lets her wrap her own arms around his neck. That way, they can hold each other properly.

“I’m sorry,” he says after her breathing has calmed down. Her short hair feels like silk against his hands.

“What are you sorry for? You’re the one that will...who will…” She hiccuped. “Gods, you don’t even know, and, and everything is supposed to be fine anyway!”

“What do I not know? You can tell me, ‘Beth. I’m your best friend.”

She shakes her head, mouth tightly closed, but soon her face contorts into another sob, and her hand comes up to her mouth to cover it. He holds her closer to his chest, not caring about how much ice cream has been smeared in the process.

“No, no,” she cries. “I—I can’t say. It doesn’t matter, anyway.”

After a few minutes, her tears run warm and her breathing relaxes once again. The waves calm to the soothing sounds of water meeting shore. He obviously had a hand in that. But everything stops to a halt, and it comes down to Percy and Annabeth, holding each other. Just like in Siren Bay, only now things aren’t so simple. They know more than they should.

“If anyone should be sorry,” she whispers against his shirt, “it’s me.”

His hand tightens against her shoulders, but he doesn’t protest. It’s no use to try and contradict her right now.

Slowly, her arms loosen their hold on him and she sits down like she was before, but now she’s significantly closer to Percy, hips touching.

Annabeth breathes deeply, staring at her hands. They’re a mess of ice cream and grass; she wipes them away with her shirt. Then, she tries to do the same with her face.

“Here, I uh…brought some napkins.” He fishes around in his pockets until they come up, offering some to her.

She grabs a handful. “Thanks.”

He looks at her while she works, until finally he says, “None of that is your fault.”

Her hands stop moving. She closes her eyes.

“But it is.” Percy almost doesn’t hear her. Almost lets the roaring winds drown her down, under the waves. A whisper amidst the sound of thunder.

Of course, he does hear.

“Why would all of this crap be your fault?”

“Because I couldn’t convince Luke to stay at camp. I had my chance, and I didn’t take it. Because I almost let you die.”

“First of all, you could never have changed Luke. I know you hate me saying it, but he’d already made his decision. And...well, I made my decision as well.”

“Like how you’ll make your decision to go to New York? During the summer?” Her voice isn’t accusing or angry, but desperate and soft.

“No, I won’t.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Yeah I do. I won’t visit New York in a while, if...that’s what you want.”

“Of course it’s what I fucking want!”

He silently cringes at that. Wrong thing to say.

She sniffles the last of her tears and glares at him, eyes red.

“You’ll leave me anyway, sooner or later. Everyone leaves, and—and you’re no exception, Perseus Jackson. You hear me? You are not the exception!” As she says every word, she rips out the grass stems around her; they make popping sounds as the roots come off the ground. Her lips tremble and her eyes shine with fresh tears, but she doesn’t stop.

“Fuck, I don’t care if you go out to that wonderful city of yours with your pretty girlfriend to forget about your problems. That’s great—I wish I could do that. But your problems are very much real, and the people here are counting on you. Has it ever crossed your mind that they miss you? That I miss you? Why is staying here for a bit longer so bad?”

Something in Annabeth’s tone makes Percy feel like he’s stepping on a floor filled with broken glass.

“I—”

“No,” she shakes her head. “I’m sorry. It’s—you’re not the problem. I don’t want to argue anymore. I just want to...spend more time with you.” She takes a rattling breath and looks at him directly in the eye once again. Her face is a wet sheen of tears, despite wiping them off with a napkin earlier. “All I meant to say is that we don't…” her train of thought stops; she stares at her hands. “We don’t have forever. And maybe you don’t think that you’ll leave me, but you don’t know that.”

“No one has forever. Unless you’re a god.”

She laughs bitterly. “That’s my point. If we don’t have forever, then why won’t you stay here? With us? Spend what little we have together.”

“Okay.”

She glances at him, stunned. “Okay? Just like that?”

“Yeah, why not? We’re at a summer camp. I’m supposed to enjoy things. Not leave. I’m...sorry about that.”

“No, I,” she sighs, “I get why you’ve been leaving. But, yeah, it would be nice if you could stay.”

“That’s what I’m planning to do,” he gins, content that for the first time in a while, he’s made Annabeth happy.

“Thanks for the ice cream sandwich, by the way.” She smiles, and some could say that it’s a weak attempt to seem grateful or content, but Percy knows that it’s genuine.

“Yeah. No problem.”

That night, Percy lets Sally know that he won’t be coming home in a while. For now, he is home. And Annabeth is his best friend, and so is Grover. And he can count on Beckendorf and Travis and Connor. They’re part of who he is, he realizes. And camp feels like belonging and the warmth of a thousand fires and a thousand starry nights.

But the missions and war preparations begin again.

And they both end up fighting. Nothing Percy says to Annabeth is right. Being without her hurts, but staying hurts even more.

He leaves the next morning.

Maybe after the summer is over, they can confront the feelings they have. Maybe they can fix whatever is broken between them when the war ends, and if they’re ready, be more than just friends. Maybe he’ll never have the courage to tell her that. Or maybe he’ll die. Maybe Kronos will win.

As Percy trudges up Half-Blood Hill, he feels someone watching him. He turns around, and there she is, her arms crossed and golden hair loose; it still hasn’t grown enough for her to put it in a ponytail. He can’t make out the look on Annabeth’s face, but he waves at her awkwardly all the same.

She doesn’t wave back.

When he sees Peleus’ smoke coming from Thalia’s tree, he looks back again. But she’s gone.

He hates ice cream sandwiches, but he hates his life more.

#pjo fic #pjo fanfic #percabeth fic #percabeth #Percy Jackson and the Olympians #percy jackson #annabeth chase #connor stoll #silena beauregard #angst #lots of it #oops #look mom i can write

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howtodisassembleyourdeviant · 5 years ago

Note

Hello! Can I request a afab reader coming out as bi and genderfluid to Connor? I could really use a pick-me-up because I’ve been invalidating myself lately and I’d appreciate if you could write this. xx

Thank you for your help!

You were his enigma. A creature so mind-bending and mysterious that even you could barely comprehend yourself. Humans always interest him, but he was fascinated as much as he was captivated by you. Strong yet fragile. Elegance and grace with the vicious brutality of a Bengal tiger. To him, you were perfection.

So, when you sent Connor a message, saying "we need to talk", he panicked. He had seen many instances in movies and tv shows what that simple phrase meant. It meant an end to his budding relationship with you.

Had he done something wrong? Everything seemed to be proceeding as desired, but had he misread something? Maybe it was over the anti-android protesters. His last date with you had turned unnecessarily violent after they attacked you both unprovoked. It had completely ruined an otherwise pleasant night out. You assured him it was fine, that it didn't bother you, but, perhaps you had reconsidered. The android couldn't blame you for that, but it still hurt. It would be another bit of happiness stolen from him for what he is.

Connor didn't want it to end. If he can figure out why, he might be able to convince you to stay with him. He sits, going through his memories, looking for your micro-expressions, anything he could learn and change so he could adapt to you, be what you want him to be.

"Connor? You already finish yer report, or are ya doing fuck all for no reason?" Hank grumbled.

Work might not be the best place to do this.

"Sorry, lieutenant." He runs the program in the background, saving moments where your face shows any sign of discomfort or anger, before returning to work. You wanted him to come to your house after his shift, which only gives him approximately 14 minutes to review and prepare to state his case, 19 if traffic is heavy. He will need to work fast, he knows he can't fail. The stakes are far too high.

.......

"Hey, Connor, " you greeted him at the door but, as suspected, it was morose. It solidified his reasoning. You let him in, moving to the couch. He followed after you, sitting down and taking your hand.

"Before you dismiss me, I want you to know, I can change. I'm designed to adapt and accommodate. I can be whatever you need me to be. Just give me a chance, " Connor adamantly proposed.

"What are you talking about?" You were clearly confused.

"I don't want to throw away what we just started building. I'll stop being so reckless when I'm on duty. I'll even find employment elsewhere, somewhere safer if that's what it takes. If it's because I'm an android, I'll remove my LED, that way nobody can tell, " he felt desperate, unwilling to let go of what he's found with you, the feelings you brought to life.

"What? I don't want you to do that!" Connor loves his job, why would he decide to quit it? And his LED? Connor is and should be proud that he is an android, and deserves to be able to display himself as such.

"Just tell me what you want, " he pleaded.

"I want you to tell me what the hell you're going on about!" You exclaimed. He stared at you, seeing your baffled expression. He suddenly wasn't so sure he came to the right conclusion.

"Are you... Are you not ending our relationship?" Connor hesitantly asked.

"No! What the hell made you think that?" You were absolutely appalled by the idea.

"You wrote that we needed to talk and, based on my research, that is generally the phrase people use to "break up" so to speak, " he reasoned. You groaned.

"Is your "research" actually just from watching some of Hank's romantic comedies?"

"It might have... impacted it to some degree," he muttered. There was a heat in his cheeks.

"Connor, I don't want you to change who you are for me. You are wonderful are you are. I said we need to talk because there's something I feel you should know. Something I wanted to tell you sooner, but I was nervous."

"Okay, what is it?" You were quiet, looking to the ground. He cupped your cheek, tilting his head to meet your eyes, "it's alright, " he reassured.

"I've realized I'm bi... And genderfluid."

He stares.

gen·der-flu·id

adjective

denoting or relating to a person who does not identify themselves as having a fixed gender.

Bi (informal; see Bisexual)

bi·sex·u·al

adjective

sexually attracted not exclusively to people of one particular gender; attracted to both men and women.

"Oh, " he says aloud, "I didn't know it had a label."

"What?" Was he bound and determined to confuse you today?

"I noticed that you had a penchant for switching styles from more traditionally feminine to masculine, even changing your hairstyle. Your stance and gait are altered as well. You also seemed uncomfortable with gender labels, so I've avoided them, at least until I asked you about it first. As for being bisexual, I am an android, so I don't actually have a gender, so to speak."

You gawked at him. Of course he would notice, he's a detective. Still, Connor had picked up on all of your mannerisms and already taken how you felt into consideration. Tears welled up in your eyes.

"Don't cry, " he pulled you close, "I noticed you had times where you were distressed and I wanted to help. I thought if I gathered enough information, I would find an answer. I suppose I could have just asked." He's starting to notice a pattern in his own behavior, relying too much on research and analytics.

You held him tightly. Connor wanted to help. He always wants to help you. It was so... Him.

"Why are you so good to me?" You asked, words mumbled against his chest.

"You're always good to me. When I had my bad days and I can't trust myself, you're the one to coax me back. Any problems I have, I know I can turn to you with no judgment. I can be that for you too, if you will allow me."

You nod against him, unable to trust your voice not to crack.

"You don't have to talk now. I'll be here whenever you're ready, " he murmured.

Connor continued to hold you, offering comfort and acceptance. You weren't sure what you were expecting when you told him, but you were so happy you did. When you felt alone, you were assured he would come running to your side, even if he didn't fully understand it.

#detroit become human #connor fanfiction #dbh #connor x reader #rk800 #rk800 connor reader #gaming

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cupidmarwani-archive · 5 years ago

Text

stay with me, hold my hand (there’s no need to be brave)

Summary: After Ava dies, Natalie needs to know what happened.

WC: ~8.5k

Tags: implied/mentioned rape, implied/mentioned suicide, implied depression/PTSD, canon divergent (Owen doesn’t exist and Natalie wasn’t in a car accident), 1st person POV.

On that first night, Ava came home and threw up in the kitchen sink. She didn’t take off her shoes or her coat, she didn’t say hello, and she didn’t tell me she loved me. Instead, she went straight to the kitchen and gagged until her stomach was empty, and then the tears started. By then I was nearby enough to open my arms and let her fall into them and cry. Slow at first, tear tracks down her cheeks and cutting into her jawline. But soon she was full on sobbing against my shoulder, whole body shaking with the force of it, and her breath coming in desperate choking gasps, and I didn’t know what to do about it. She still had on one of her formal dresses. It was a work function she was invited to but I wasn’t, and it didn’t hurt when she left but it certainly did when she came back.

“What happened?”

She shook her head at me, and when she met my eyes, there was mascara staining her face and the beginnings of a bruise on the side of her neck- one I certainly didn’t leave. That was when I knew something really bad had to have happened, but I didn’t want to ask because, if I’m honest with myself, I didn’t want to know. It was easier to pretend. She probably didn’t have that option, because whatever happened was real and inescapable for her. Later, much later, I would find answers. But I hadn’t yet, and I wasn’t looking for them. Ava Bekker was a strong and beautiful woman. Some called her arrogant, narcissistic, cold. That wasn’t who she was, only the mask that people saw when she refused to give in to her colleagues who usually thought they knew better than her. It was hard for her to get as far as she did. I was proud of her, am proud of her, and I just wish that before things ended, other people got to see the same Ava that I did and do.

That first night was the beginning of the end for her. At the time, I didn’t know that. She couldn’t sleep that night, but I did, and she told me in the morning that she spent hours with her eyes open and her arms around me because I made her feel safe. Still, she didn’t tell me what had happened to her, and took a long shower that had steam creeping out from under the door. I noticed, as she got ready, that she had thrown away the dress she wore that night. It was balled up angrily, sitting at the top of the nearly full trash can. Again, it was something I should have asked about, but instead I changed the bag and brought the old one down to the dumpster out of some misguided hope it would help her. Forgetting can be healing, I’ve learned. I wouldn’t say I’ve forgotten my husband, but the less I think about him, the less it hurts. I can’t grieve for someone who never crosses my mind.

By the time I was ready for work, Ava was dressed and had her hair down loose around her shoulders instead of in a braid or ponytail. It was to cover the mark, I knew, because she didn’t have it in her to cover it with layers of concealer and powder. She had the same habit when I left hickeys, although I rarely did because we both understood the calls of our jobs and the optics of it. I didn't comment on the hairstyle. Neither did she. But she smiled at me and tilted her chin up for me to kiss her, knowing I could never resist her. I've never been able to. Not since I met her, or the day she told me I was beautiful and took me to dinner, or when she kissed me the first time. Sometimes I still dream about her kisses.

We left together- I drove, she played the radio loud. Usually, she would sing along, but she didn’t this time. Instead, she rested her temple against the cold window and watched the streets and buildings drag by. I put my hand on her leg and she offered me a thin smile. It didn’t feel right, but still I didn’t push her for the details of the night before. Even when she got out of the car and stared up at the hospital with her face set. Bags under her eyes, a quiver to her bottom lip. I reached for her, and for a moment she held my hand, but then she was running in to head up to her floor. By the time I made it into the ED, she had already begun to ascend via elevator. I didn’t mind too much because it’s not like we wouldn’t eat lunch or go home together. And we’re both busy women.

“You okay, Nat?”

I smiled at Maggie, and I guess it looked something like Ava’s smile did. “I’m fine,” I told her.

Whether or not she believed me, I’m not sure. Either way, she let it go and I did my job like I always do. I don’t remember anything else from that day, to be honest. But I do know that it was the start of all this, when Ava went to that work thing I still don’t know the purpose of, and she came back different. Much, much later, I learned what really happened.

Things were calm, if strange from that point on. Months rolled around and Ava came home to me every day, slept poorly, and kissed me like she was forgetting how long it had been since last time. During that whole time, we didn’t have sex. And I’m not complaining about that; I get that it wasn’t because of me, but because of her. She went through something traumatic, and it was the first domino, and there are nights I lie awake mulling over if she would still be here, had I done more for her. Maybe it’s not healthy. But I wonder.

The next thing that happened was a long while down the line. Just the same, I saw it on her face the moment she met me at our car in the parking lot. Something happened. I didn’t know what it was right away, and I didn’t want to force her into talking. We went home quiet, and as I cooked she cracked open one of her nice bottles of wine that she usually saved for date night. I have to imagine that if we had something stronger, it would be down her throat that day too. Instead of asking, I let her drink, and when we ate, she opened up to me for the first time about what was hurting her.

“Connor thinks I tried to kill his father,” she said. Heavy voice. Thick with pain. Her eyes were locked onto her dinner, which she played with as opposed to eating. “When I operated on him during the shooting. Apparently his heart is still bad, so- so Connor asked me if I purposefully did a bad job. His face- he thinks I tried to kill his father. He actually thinks that.”

“But you didn’t.”

She looked up at me and I knew she heard what I didn’t say. The question. Did you? I want to say I never even considered the possibility, but since the night she came home different, there were moments like these where I wasn’t sure that I knew her as well as I used to. There was something different about her. I was worried. But I didn’t ask, and I didn’t inform, and when dinner was over she asked me to join her in the shower for much missed intimacy of the best kind.

I missed seeing her whole, something I hadn’t realized. There was no physical boundary between us, and she allowed me to touch her in some of the ways I hadn’t lately. Her hands were familiar and soft, and she was tender with me as she washed the day from my body and pulled me closer. I shampooed her hair and when we kissed, it felt like starting over. Everything I had been missing lately was replaced, if only for the duration of our shower. Her smile was real again, and I kissed her like I hadn’t lately. It felt real. She held me close, kissed me hard, touched me gentle. Under warm water and fragranced with soap, I almost forgot what happened, and I think for a moment, that Ava did too.

It was good, it felt good, and when we dried off after to climb into bed, I thought she may be finally recovering from what we never spoke about. But of course, after a mere hour of sleep, I woke up to her screaming. Over and over, she cried no, and when I shook her awake she cried in my arms until the sun rose. Then, at the rousing alarm, she did not get out of bed. Instead, she asked me if I would tell Dr. Latham that she’s sick and won’t make it to work. I knew she wasn’t sick- not physically, anyway- but I agreed and kissed her forehead before I left. Her bare feet, peeking out from under the covers, were dry and cracked on the soles although I knew part of her nightly routine was to moisturize because it helped her avoid blisters. And Ava, she cared about little things like the skin on her feet and the back of her ears, which were just as prone to getting dry. This was not a one-night lapse. I knelt, then, at the end of the bed, and pulled out her favorite lotion. It was high-end and smelled like roses. I never cared for it myself, but she liked it. She didn’t so much as twitch as I rubbed it in. But I wanted so badly for her to know that I still cared, and she was still worth loving and taking care of.

When I went to work, I didn’t talk to Connor. I knew he’d have his version of things, an explanation for what he accused Ava of, but I didn’t want to hear it. There was a part of me that did fear Ava had done something I could have never pictured her doing before what happened to her, and I didn’t want to hear from someone who believed her to be capable of doing such grievous harm. That isn’t the sort of person she was. At least, not at that point. Connor had to know why she wasn’t at work; he knew what he said, and what he thought she did, and he must have seen me come in with my empty passenger seat. But he didn’t approach me either. That was fine with me. I should’ve spoken to him.

Afterwards, I picked up Ava’s favorite takeout and set it on the kitchen counter before going to see if she was still laid up in bed. She wasn’t. The shower was on again, and when I went into the bathroom, she was sitting at the bottom of the tub with hot water clinging to her, and in her eyes, she was a different person. Like I was approaching a feral animal, I crept forward with my hand out to her. Again, I have to admit that deep down, I was afraid of her despite knowing I shouldn’t have been.

“Ava,” I said.

She didn’t answer me.

I turned off the water and wrapped her in a soft towel, carried her to bed and brought food. She was hurting in a way I wasn’t trained to fix, and I’ll always regret not looking for someone who could. Even as I coaxed her into eating dinner, she didn’t say a word to me. I realized that things may have been getting out of hand, but still, I didn’t help her. Instead, I tucked her in and brushed her hair, told her I loved her as the sun set.

The next morning, she was better, I thought. She got up and dressed herself, acted normal without regard to the day before where she had become a statue of marble. It could have been over, but somehow, I knew it wasn’t. It was too fast after how slowly she’d crashed and burned. When she was making coffee, she burned her hand. We both laughed it off as I bandaged her palm and told her to be careful. It wasn’t normal, though, because Ava was always so careful and meticulous in everything she did. And her eyes… her eyes were empty when she met mine. Frankly, I was frightened. She didn’t kiss me. She took a cab to work instead of driving with me.

I didn’t see her at all on the job, although I did hear about the faulty valve that was in Mr. Rhodes’ chest- unequivocal proof that Ava didn’t do anything wrong. Guilt washed over me at ever questioning her commitment to her patients, and I’m sure the same went for Connor. As far as I know, he didn’t apologize. And at home that night, Ava didn’t make mention of anything out of the ordinary.

Things seemed normal again for a while after. She had a handful of bad days that I covered for, but for the most part, she seemed alright. Then she got hurt in surgery, and I remember crying in the doctor’s lounge because it just wasn’t like her. It was in surgery for an HIV+ patient, no less. A fear I’d long since avoided sprung back of what that could mean, and as she took the case of anti-retros, she was different again. Withdrawn. I often caught her writing in the little journal with roses on it that she used to use to record all of her surgeries. She took notes because it helped her learn from her work, she told me one night early into our relationship. Somehow, however, I knew that wasn’t what this was. She wrote frantically instead of neat, and she was religious about putting it in the bottom drawer of her nightstand and locking it with a silver key I didn’t have a copy of.

Looking back, I should’ve talked to Connor, or even Dr. Latham, at the time. Anyone who could help because I was possibly the only person who saw her falling apart.

The night before Connor’s father died, Ava was calm. Laying in bed, her cheek pressed to my stomach, she traced circles over my hip as I stroked her hair. It wasn’t as soft as usual because she didn’t wash it as often. But I didn’t say anything, and my restless fingers built and pulled down braids over and over. She was warm, almost lethargic.

“You seem tired,” I whispered.

“I’m not,” she answered. “I’m awake.”

Her voice was a little patchy and off-beat. I should’ve known something was really, really wrong by then, but I still wanted to believe everything was fine. For what would be the last time, I held her and she kissed up and down my hip. We didn’t get further than that, and it was okay because I felt we had all the time in the world. There was finality, but also hope, in between our sheets. Her eyes, so open and free, traced over me like she was trying to memorize me. I didn’t ask why, but I held her hand and told her I’d always love her.

The next day, Connor’s father died of an insulin overdose. I didn’t think for a moment that it could have been Ava, but then. Then. The morning after, Connor was yelling at her, his hand dug into her arm so hard that I saw the pain on her face she was often talented at hiding. Afterward, when she came to me, I rolled up her sleeve and saw the little red marks turning purple. Had this happened to her before, I wondered, because she didn’t seem concerned by it. As a matter of fact, she was stroking her fingers over the bruise when she walked away with an almost dazed look on her face. I heard later that she filed an HR complaint about it. There was never an investigation because a handful of hours later, she was dead.

I didn’t see her die. I didn’t hear about it until much later. It was way past her shift ending and I just couldn’t find her. I thought she might’ve gone home, but she wasn’t answering her phone no matter how many times I called. Before I left, I dragged myself to see Dr. Latham, needing to know if she had left. Some people say they can sense it when a loved one is dead, but I didn’t. I didn’t want to, perhaps. All I knew was that she was upset and missing, and if she was at home sitting at the bottom of the shower, I needed to know so I could pick up her favorite ice cream on my way.

But he didn’t have to tell me. He hesitated when I asked, looked down, opened his mouth and shut it again. Something bad happened. I may have started crying, or I may have left with my face dry. I don’t remember. Everything was a blur and I just knew I had to find her. My feet carried me to the morgue and she was there, on one of the steel tables. She was so pale. A deep gash trailed across the middle of her neck, and her chest was still open. I definitely lost it then. Sobbing, on my knees, shaking. Somebody put a shock blanket on my shoulders and brought me to the ER, told me to take a few deep breaths and that I would be checked on.

I don’t know how long I sat there. But I remember who came to see me. Ava’s blood was still on his hands and his shirt, although it was in the process of drying. There was this look on his face. Guilt. Sadness. He had no right to feel that way.

Again, things blurred. The next thing I was aware of was April holding me and a bag of ice on my purple hand, Connor in a bay on the other side of the nursing station with Will tending to his face. I guess I hit him. He deserved it. I thought he was the one who killed her. In a way, he was, no matter what really happened in that room. I left the hospital with a splint on my wrist.

Goodwin gave me a week off to cope, and for that week, I refused to believe the story that Dr. Latham and the surgical assistants and the well-wishers told me. Ava killed Connor’s father, and when she realized she’d been caught, she slit her own throat with a surgical scalpel. It just didn’t seem like her, to kill someone and then herself. I didn’t understand, even as I read her eulogy in the thin-papered bundle of news dropped on our porch. She used to read the newspaper on the weekends. Mostly for the comics, but also for the stories because she liked seeing the little good local things beyond the pain of the world’s stage.

Half-way through my mandatory vacation, I broke into the bottom drawer of Ava’s nightstand. It still felt like a violation of her privacy, but I just had to know what happened to her and why this happened. Whether she killed herself, or Connor did, I needed to know why.

As expected, the beginning of her journal was descriptions of patients and surgeries. Meticulous notes down to the thread size of the stitches, the serial number of implants, the amount of time on bypass. Most of it went over my head, I’ll admit, but I knew enough to know it was just an account of the surgery. She was a fantastic surgeon. And as I flipped through them, I found her record of Mr. Rhodes’ first surgery. Everything was noted neatly, but the serial number of the valve was circled in a different color. That must’ve been when she discovered the faulty valve. There was nothing else out of the ordinary on that page, or any of the other notes I looked at until I reached where her surgical accounts turned to messy scribbles and less organized thoughts. Some pages had dates, some didn’t. But they were unified in their subject.

Every personal passage in her notebook was about Connor. I didn’t understand, and reading them didn’t help. They talked about his schedule and his attitudes, about the way he talked to her and the way he talked to others, about the accusations he made over and over again. Most of them, I had no idea about. When she hurt her hand, he accused her of doing it purposefully. He accused her of manipulating higher ups in the hospital. He accused her of sleeping with his father. And that last one burned, because beneath it she told the truth about what happened to her at the very beginning of all of this. She just wanted Connor to stay at Med because she thought he was her friend, and in quietly seeking the funds from his father, something bad happened to her. She wrote that she said no, and she cried, but it didn’t help her. I understood, after reading it, why she must have been so hurt from that accusation in particular.

It helped me start to come to terms with her death and her pain, but all the same, I still didn’t believe she would’ve killed herself, and the next suspect was Connor. He was the one in the room with her, and he had hurt her earlier that same day, and according to Ava’s notes, he hated her. Really hated her. Did he hate her enough to kill her, especially if it’s true that she admitted to killing his father?

Suddenly it hit me why she would have killed him. That son of a bitch raped her, and she had tried to save his life anyway, only for Connor to make baseless accusations against her. I don’t know that I would’ve killed someone, but I don’t blame her for it. Of course, her notes follow up with everything, neat and precise. She recorded the exact amount of insulin she gave him, and when, and what batch she pulled it from. This evidence could have been used to convict her- although I suppose that’s why she kept it locked up from even me. I wouldn’t be able to testify against her if I didn’t know anything. The admission hurt, though, because I couldn’t just pretend it was baseless. This time, what Connor said was true. But not the others. And it furthered my suspicion that he did something because he had the motives and the means, and afterward, he even supposedly tried to save her.

My first instinct was to bring the journal to the police. It would prove that Ava was a murderer, but it would also put on record what happened to her, and maybe spark an investigation for that or for her death. Beyond that, it was the right thing to do. But these were her private thoughts, and even reading them myself was wrong, let alone giving them to strangers who would use this to burn down her memory without caring to learn why.

I didn’t call Will, because he’d get his brother. I didn’t call Connor, because I thought it was his fault. I didn’t call Goodwin or Dr. Charles or April or Ethan because I just knew that they would want me to turn in the journal, and that wasn’t what I wanted or needed to hear. So I called Maggie. She always had my back, and I trusted her. Like always, she picked up on the first ring.

“Hey, Natalie, it’s good to hear from you. How’re you doing?”

“Are you busy?”

Talking about this over the phone seemed too impersonal. And I’ll admit, I craved someone near me to replace the coldness I’d been feeling since I lost Ava. Maggie, I knew, would not pity me or treat me like I’m fragile, but instead, she’d help me like she always has.

“No, why?”

“Can you come over? Just for a little bit?”

“I’m on my way. I’ll bring ice cream.”

I didn’t get the chance to thank her, but at least she would be here soon and I wouldn’t have to deal with this alone. There was a chance she’d disagree with me, think I was overreacting and see something that indicated Ava actually having killed herself. But at least then, I’d know more than I did. I just wanted to understand what happened.

Less than an hour later, she knocked on my front door with two quarts of ice cream under her arm. One mint moose tracks, one cookie dough- we’d be able to eat together. I realized I should’ve checked on her too, because it wasn’t like I was the only one who knew Ava. Before I could, she gave me one of her knowing smiles and told me she missed seeing me around. I was forgiven before I even apologized.

We sat down on the couch together, after I got us two huge spoons, and I leaned against her as I took a moment to savor the mint and the chocolate and the good things I hadn’t had for a while. The pain allowed me the reprieve for a little time, but soon it came back, and I set down my treat to pick up Ava’s journal.

“They said she killed herself,” I whispered. Maggie knew already. “But I- I don’t think she did.”

I handed her the journal, a torn receipt marking the place where the personal notes overtook the professional.

“She did admit that she killed Connor’s father. But there’s more to it, and- and the day she died, Connor was yelling at her and he grabbed her arm so hard it left a bruise.”

Maggie turned one of the pages. Scanned it. “You think Connor killed her.”

“I don’t think she killed herself, and he was the only other person in the room with her.”

“Have you told anyone else?”

I shook my head. My hair felt too long, sticking to my cheek. “I don’t know if they’d believe me. And they’d probably focus on her confession, but I trust you.”

We ate more ice cream in silence while Maggie read through everything. What happened to Ava, what Connor did. None of it detailed the things I saw, though, like Ava’s slow decline. It was frantic, for the most part. And I still didn’t understand why she was so focused on Connor for it. That was a question for someone like Dr. Charles. I didn’t trust him. Later, I wound up asking Sarah about it.

When she reached the end, Maggie set down the journal, closed and the bookmark tucked neatly into place, and looked at me with her lips pressed together. I almost asked if she thought I was crazy, but then she put her ice cream aside too and took my hands in hers, calloused and protective. “I can’t tell you what happened to Ava, and I can’t tell you whether or not to give this to the police. But if you do think Connor killed her, you need to tell someone who can investigate. Trying to do this yourself is messy, and besides, Connor…”

“Connor what?”

“He left. The same night Ava died, he took some job offer out of state. He only said goodbye to Dr. Latham and Mrs. Goodwin, she told us the next morning.”

My mouth went dry. If he killed her, and then he left, I couldn’t look into it myself, and I wasn’t ready to share Ava’s journal with the police. Hoping it wasn’t true, I searched Maggie’s face, and I found nothing to indicate otherwise. Connor was gone.

I started crying, light but warm like spring rain, and Maggie held me as I did without attempting to soothe me. She just held me. I must’ve fallen asleep, because I woke up tucked into bed the next day, with Ava’s journal, a glass of water, and a sticky note telling me to call whenever resting on my nightstand.

I laid around that day, feeling sorry for myself and finishing my ice cream, but come evening I sat at the breakfast bar with a fresh notepad in front of me. Ava had a lot of them that she liked to use for grocery lists or to-dos for the weekend. Connor’s number was pulled up on my phone, my thumb hovering over the call button. I wanted to talk to him. I also didn’t. A voice in the back of my head reminded me that I could still go to the police.

It was a bad idea, but I wanted answers, and I called him.

After a handful of rings, he answered.

“Natalie, I-”

“I know you did it.” My voice shook. My eyes burned. “I know you killed Ava.”

“What? No, I-”

I told him everything I knew. I knew about his accusations and the way he treated Ava and how he was getting even because she gave his father what he deserved. I knew that she would never have killed herself, especially like that, and he was the only one in the room with her, and the one who conveniently called for help. I knew he ran away with his guilty conscience. And then, I hung up.

Hearing him try to defend himself just wasn’t something I could handle, and telling him I knew lifted a weight off my chest. Since I’d be returning to work soon, starting to dull the pain was a necessary step. My patients, they needed me even if I was grieving and alone. Connor called me back, but I sent him to voicemail and blocked his number.

Alone in the silent apartment, I dug into the closet for a pair of Ava’s scrubs, her coat ruined with blood. They still smelled like her favorite perfume, and her name was embroidered with care, and when I fell into bed with it, I felt a little less alone. She was gone, but in some ways, she was still here. I didn’t talk to her, or anything strange like that, but I got the sense I was still holding her, and I wished I could still comb my fingers through her hair and tell her she was beautiful.

There wasn’t ever a formal funeral. I let them cremate her body, and although I meant to spread her ashes, they still rest atop the mantle in a stunning marble urn. I talk to it sometimes, but not often. Not long after I returned to work, there was an announcement that a contamination in the insulin let them trace it back to Ava, and she was retroactively charged with murder. There was no trial, but there was closure mailed to Connor and his sister. I didn’t get closure for Ava. I still didn’t know for sure if Connor killed her or if she killed herself, and I didn't entirely want to know.

A few months came and went, and I did not heal. I never spread her ashes, nor did I find an explanation for her death or show her journal to anyone other than Maggie. I was stuck. I didn’t have closure, and I didn’t want it for fear of what it would be. For weeks on end, I was going through the motions without really living. I ate, I showered, I slept, I worked. But I wasn’t me. I was something like Ava had been, and when I realized that, it frightened me.

Curled up in bed with her scrubs, ones I kept washing and spraying with her perfume, the world felt too small and I was choking on thin air. I wanted to do something. I wanted to feel something. I don’t know where the idea came from, but I walked to the store, bought a razor, and stood over my bathroom sink with it buzzing in my hand. Vibrations ran down my arm and, in the mirror, I seemed dead already. Dark bruises circled my eyes, and my face was rounder than I remembered from when I used to actually look at myself in the mirror. I looked down at myself, and I was softer than before. In the past, I might have panicked. But it didn’t matter, not just because of losing Ava, but because I was tired of being the same. For years, I looked the same, and I wanted to stop. I needed change, more than anything, to escape the stifling grief and pain and memories, even if it was just long enough to feel anything else.

My own eyes stared back at me. I looked for meaning, and I found nothing. Slowly, I raised my arm, and I swept the razor across my head once. It was uneven and loose hair collapsed into the sink, dark and separate from myself. Now, there was no turning back, and I kept going. Over and over, until all my hair was shorn close to my scalp, and when I ran my fingers through what was left, I felt skin. It was a little strange, seeing that much of my head, but it was different, and I needed different. I felt lighter. After tapping the last of the hair out of the razor and setting it aside, I cleaned out the sink into an old grocery bag. I showered to wash away the itch on the back of my neck and crawled back into bed with Ava’s clothes.

I missed her a lot. And I felt like I didn’t know her as well as I thought I did when she was alive, because I still didn’t understand why she had so much to write about Connor, nor why she would have killed herself- if that was what happened. Too many things didn’t make sense to me, and I was beginning to realize that I had to actually ask people about what they saw and heard. Dr. Latham and Connor, mostly. I could talk to Dr. Latham. He’s a good man, honest, and I knew he would tell me the truth. But I didn’t want to have to talk to speak to Connor.

Going into work the day after shaving my head, I knew that they were all looking at me differently. In their eyes, I had cracked. It was the furthest thing from the truth, and I ignored the inquisitive stares as I looked after my patients. The day went by fast, and by the end of it, I nearly missed the chance to speak to Dr. Latham before he went home. I caught him barely, stopping him in the hallway after he hung up his white coat.

“Can I talk to you about Ava?”

His body stiffened and his eyes cast away. It had been a long time already, and he was one of the few who tried to save her but eventually gave up. At least he didn’t leave. Instead, he conceded and asked me if I’d rather do it sitting down, or over coffee. A note of comfort I craved, but not from him. I didn’t want to, but I said yes to at least having a seat in the hospital cafeteria so I wouldn’t have to stand in the middle of the hallway for however long it took. He led the way, got me a cup of water and interlocked his fingers atop the white table. He had surgeon hands like Ava. Capable and soft, slender, particular. I looked away from them because it made my heart beat wrong.

“You said you want to talk about Dr. Bekker?”

I know it’s what most called her, what’s demanded in a profession like this, but hearing her title and not her name burned me like a hot stove. “Yeah. I um, I know it’s been a long time, but I’m still looking for closure, I guess.”

“I figured you might want to talk to me eventually. Losing someone you care very deeply about isn’t easy, especially when it’s as sudden as Dr. Bekker’s death.”

Again, he called her by her title. I hated it. But I didn’t correct him, because I was selfish and wanted to hold onto the intimacy of her first name and the way it felt on the tip of my tongue when we used to lay together late at night. Dr. Bekker belonged to the world, but Ava belonged to me.

I offered him a tight smile. “I just have some questions, is all.”

“Ask away.”

“Leading up to her death,” I started, skating my fingers over the table for something to do with my energy, “did you notice anything unusual? Like how she was acting, or how her surgeries went?”

He thought about it for a long moment. I didn’t mind the wait because I knew he was putting real thought into it, trying to find me a truthful and thorough answer. I didn’t blame him for Ava’s death because I knew he gave her the same trust and respect he did everyone, and he had tried as hard as possible to save her life without regard to anything she might have been guilty of. Unlike Connor, he was not someone with a vendetta.

“Her surgeries were impeccable as always, except for when she got hurt in surgery. I found it odd, but she said she was alright and it didn’t happen again. She and Connor argued a lot though, usually about his father. I didn’t get involved.”

“You were really close to Connor,” I said.

“I still am. I consider him one of my only friends.”

I used to consider him a friend, too. “He was at odds with Ava a lot before his death, right? They fought, like you said, and he put his hands on her the day she died.”

“Are you suggesting that Connor had something to do with her suicide?”

I didn’t want to admit it to Dr. Latham. But I had to, because he might have known something to prove it, or even disprove it and let me put my mind at rest. I needed answers.

“I don’t believe that she slit her own throat, Dr. Latham. All due respect, but it’s not like her. I think it was Connor.”

He looked at me strangely, like he thought I was crazy. But at least he considered the possibility for a silent moment before shifting in his seat. “I don’t think Connor is capable of murder, not like that. But I also didn’t know Dr. Bekker as well as you, and I can’t tell you whether or not she would have done that to herself. My best advice to you is to go to the police if you feel this strongly, and let them investigate. Just take care of yourself, Dr. Manning. I know it’s been a hard year for you.”

I left our conversation feeling no better. I wasn’t ready to share Ava’s history and her writing with the cops, and I didn’t trust them not to turn this on me or discredit her further in her death. Dr. Latham wasn’t much help. I didn’t want to be alone with the way I felt after talking to him, so as I drove home, I asked Maggie to come over again. She had told me I was beautiful with my hair gone, and I felt safe with her as I always have, so I knew I could rely on her to make me breathe easy again.

She arrived with Chinese takeout, boxes stacked in a little plastic bag emblazoned with “THANK YOU” in red block letters. Neither of us were much good with chopsticks, and I didn’t want to even bother with it that night, so I grabbed a couple of forks as she arranged dinner on the coffee table. I wanted to express how much her support meant to me, but without the right words, I stayed quiet.

As soon as I sat down on the couch, I was exhausted. Even reaching for the food felt insurmountable, but I tried anyways. Before I could grab it, Maggie set a single hand on my wrist. “You’re shaking.” I looked up at her. I hadn’t realized. “What happened?”

I didn’t feel like answering, and collapsed back against the couch. I wanted to sink into it. After all this time I still had no answers. But then Maggie said my name softly, and I realized she was holding out a forkful of noodles and chicken for me. It was the sort of thing Ava would have done. I accepted the bite, but then went back to feeding myself because something had changed in that moment and I wasn’t ready for it. It felt nice, but unexpected, and we made our way through the meal without continued conversation, save for Maggie reaching out to steady me every so often because I hadn’t stopped shaking. I don’t know why.

After dinner, the tears started. It really hurt, and I had lost the only two people I had truly loved within a handful of years. My husband, and then Ava. Maggie was there, but I was afraid of what would happen if I loved her as anything more than the affection slowly growing between us. I cried, and I ached, and through it, Maggie wrapped her arms around me and told me everything would be okay. Her shoulder was warm when I rested my cheek against it, and when she offered to help me shower the day off, I told her yes.

I stood in the water for only a moment before I asked her to join me. I craved intimacy of any kind, and felt like cement dropped from my body when she stripped away her scrubs and let her hair out of its braid. It was silky soft when I helped her wash it, and her skin had moles and scars I wished for the time to learn. I recognized where she gave a kidney, and almost traced my hand over the mark. It wasn’t my place, though, and I settled for a quick glance of my palm while I washed her just as she washed me. The last time I had had a moment like this was with Ava. I didn’t know what it might mean. But for at least a little while, I chose not to think about it and enjoyed how it felt not to be alone. Maggie’s hands were broader and more careful than Ava’s, but they felt the same in the ways it mattered.

She dried me with a bath towel, cupped my cheek and smiled at me. I led her to the bedroom and offered up some oversized clothes that used to belong to my husband, ones I thought might fit her. She thanked me and dressed. I only slid into pajama pants.

Maggie tucked me into bed with care, making sure the covers would keep me warm and smoothing them after. She got ready to leave, but I didn’t want her to. I reached out to her with one hand, waited for her to take it.

“Stay with me?”

“Always.”

She laid with me in bed and it was the first time since Ava’s death that I shared it with anything other than her scrubs. Maggie left space between us, but I came closer until I could put my hand on her hip. Without a moment’s hesitation, she wrapped her arm around my waist and kissed my forehead.

“Why are you here?” I asked.

“Because I love you.”

I fell asleep loved.

When we woke up, we didn’t talk about what happened. But we did eat breakfast and talk like always, and went back to work to do our jobs as always. I thought about her, and I thought about Ava, and I thought about Connor. The night before was a reprieve, but I wasn’t ready to give up on finding out the truth.

Maggie smiled at me a lot that day, and I smiled back, and I must admit I felt so warm and taken care of every time. It made the day easier to get through, so by night I didn’t feel so consumed by pain. I sat down at my kitchen counter without the ache in my chest and looked at my phone, torn about whether or not I should call Connor again. It had been a long time, his number could have even changed, and he might have hung up on me or not even answered in the first place.

I needed to know if I was ever going to move on with my life. I got Ava’s journal and looked through it again, hoping for a concrete answer, but of course there was nothing new. I had already looked over every word, and I still didn’t know for sure what happened. There was no other way to get answers.

I queued up his number and almost pressed dial. I didn’t want to hear him tell me he killed Ava, nor did I want to hear him tell me she killed herself, but if I didn’t at least try and find the truth, not only would I never forgive myself, but I’d never be able to move on with my life and do things like love Maggie how she loved me. I had to know.

When I called, it rang a handful of times before Connor answered. His voice when he said hello sounded happier than it had in the weeks before Ava’s death. He asked who it was, evidently no longer having my number saved in his contacts. I didn’t blame him.

“It’s Natalie. Manning.”

He hesitated long enough that I thought he would hang up on me.

“Hi, Natalie. How’ve you been?”

I let out a breath slow, pushed between my teeth like a whistle not yet formed. He wasn’t angry with me. That could quickly change, I realized, and I had to hurry through this.

“I know it’s been a long time, but I still really want to talk to you about Ava. I just- I just need closure-”

“-And I was there when she died,” he finished, not filling in that I accused him of killing her. It wasn’t half as bad as some of the things he said she did. “Let’s talk, then. I’ve got about half an hour.”

That wasn’t a lot of time, but it was also too much. I worried about having the chance to say everything, as well as being able to fill the time so he couldn’t think about Ava for too long after I hung up, too busy with whatever had imposed the limitation. I nodded to myself and kicked my feet against the legs of my chair.

“Sounds good.”

I had to say everything.

“I found this journal, that Ava wrote when she was alive,” I said. “Most of it was surgical notes, but at the end, it was all personal. And it was mostly about you.”

“She was obsessed with me.”

“That’s not true.”

He was quiet on the other end at first. Then he sighed, and I could almost picture the stupid look on his face. “I’m just going to tell you what I experienced. Ava slept with my father to manipulate me into staying in Chicago, she nearly got me fired and then saved my ass, she murdered my father, she intentionally cut herself in surgery on one of my instruments. She wanted my attention, and she did whatever it took to get it. I know it’s hard to hear, and that you loved her, but she had problems.”

“Your father raped her,” I corrected him. “She didn’t sleep with him to manipulate you. She asked him to pay for your ER because she would have missed you, and he raped her.”

“He wouldn’t do that.”

“He did.”

I wanted to hang up on him. But I didn’t have any answers I wanted.

“Connor, I just need to know what happened in that room.”

I couldn’t picture her hurting herself. I still can’t. Ava applied lotion all over her body every night and counted how many times she ran her brush through her hair and used expensive detergent so it wouldn’t irritate her skin. She was so particular about herself and her body that I can never bring myself to picture her hurting herself in any way for any reason, especially not as violently as slitting her own throat. It wasn’t like her.

“Natalie, I know you’re still grieving-”

“Tell me what happened.”

“She…” Connor’s voice went croaky. “After Dr. Latham said he figured out how to find who murdered my father, she ran to an empty OR and I followed her. She asked me to give her an hour to get to the airport, and I said no, so she picked up a scalpel. She was really upset at me, and I thought she was going to stab me with it. She kept coming closer.”

“So you hurt her first?”

“No. I didn’t. She was inches away from me, and she suddenly cut her own throat open. I did everything I could to save her, and so did Dr. Latham, and most of the surgical team. Nobody wanted her to die. I didn’t want her to die.”

He sounded so raw and honest, but I still couldn’t believe him. I couldn’t believe that Ava would do that. I’ll never be able to. But I heard his version of things, and that settled a part of me, because I knew I had done everything I could.

“If she did truly kill herself,” I said slowly, “then it was because of you and what you did to her.”

And I hung up.

Connor didn’t call me back, and I was okay with that. I set my phone aside, walked to the mantle, and wrapped my hand around the urn resting there. Unlike everything else, it collected no dust, because I cleaned it religiously. Ava wouldn’t like to be dusty and dirty.

“I did everything I could. I love you so much.”

I stood on my tiptoes to kiss the smooth surface. It was cold, and did not give back. I had lost Ava, and no amount of looking for answers was going to change that. What mattered was that I tried, and I still loved her no matter what. And I knew, deep down, that if Ava did indeed do that to herself, it didn’t come from nowhere. With someone to shoulder the blame, I was lighter. I breathed in deep.

My next phone call was to Maggie, asking if I could take her out to dinner somewhere nice and start again with someone willing to love me, even if I feared what might come to be.

#ava bekker #natalie manning #maggie lockwood #chicago med #chicago med spoilers #mekker #locking #mine #fic

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homesoutofhuman · 6 years ago

Text

Daddy Issues: Christmas Special Edition- Part 3

Warnings: Smut, curse words, angst

--------------

You wake the next day with a hangover. You tiptoe downstairs, wincing a little. John was rough with you, and you take a strange pride in the fact you’re finding it difficult to walk. You find him in the kitchen with Iosef. John hands you a glass of water and a painkiller, but frowns at your attire as you’re just wearing your underwear and one of his shirts. Iosef has gone pink, staring open-mouthed as you dash out of the room quickly. Naomi is sat on the couch looking smooth and regal, the complete opposite of how you feel.

“Good morning little nanny…” she says scathingly as you tug John’s shirt down over your knees. Her eyes narrow when she sees the marks on your neck left by John’s passionate mouth.

“I’m not the nanny…” you correct her. “Why are you here again?”

“I came to ask Jonathan if he wanted to go Christmas shopping for Connor with me...but he’s stalling for time in the kitchen. I don’t know if he’s more scared of angering me, or upsetting you.”

You sit down, wanting to show her this is your house, you’re allowed to do what you want in it. “It’s a little strange Naomi, you turning up after all these years. Are you planning on sticking around this time?”

She ignores your real question about abandoning Connor. “Iosef has tickets for a Christmas Charity Gala in the city so we’ll stay at least tonight. I’ve invited Jonathan and ‘tino...and you I suppose…”

You give a small laugh “Thanks I guess but we’re not really one for fancy things.”

“Jonathan has already said yes, so you don’t know him as well as you think.”

You chew your lip. “If John asks tell him I’ve gone back to bed...I’ll see you later…” You trek back upstairs and pray for your head to stop pounding. You have a feeling Naomi is going to look devastatingly beautiful for the gala, and you need to do your best to keep John’s attention.

You nap lazily and Connor comes in at some point to join you. You’re reading through a pile of books with him when John brings you a cup of coffee, smiling tenderly at the sight of you.

“We’re going shopping, do you want to come?”

You shake your head. “I thought I’d say here with my best friend and make a blanket fort.”

“I’d rather do that, but Naomi is insisting I go, and without me there she’ll buy something ridiculous…” he glances at Connor “I mean she’ll tell Santa to get Connor something silly…”

Connor’s mouth falls open “I don’t want that Papa!”

“I know!” John says, giving him a hug and, with a concerned look at you, he leaves.

You try not to feel jealous, you really do. When Connor goes off to play you scour your wardrobe for the right dress to wear. You find the green one you wore the first night you and John kissed for real, and decide it was expensive enough to bear a repeat outing. You wash and dry your hair, thinking of Naomi’s curls ruefully as you survey the wildness on your own head. You’re putting on some simple makeup when Naomi walks into your room, returned from shopping.

You start and turn to her. She holds up a hand. “Don’t worry I come in peace. I actually got you a gift.”

“Oh?”

“Stand up.”

Without knowing why, you obey. Naomi moves behind you, looking at your reflection in the full length mirror.

“You are pretty.” she says, as if reluctant to admit it. “And you have such innocent eyes. I bet Jonathan enjoys ruining you..”

You shiver at her intimate words and jump as she lifts your hair off your nape. “Here...let me help…”

She grabs pins from your dresser and starts putting your hair up in a sophisticated style you could never manage yourself.

“There...that shows off your neck better…” her fingers brush against the marks still showing on your skin from John. “Better put some powder on those…”

You meet her eyes in the mirror. Naomi is taller than you and you feel small and young, but still, you will not be made to feel insecure. “I’m sorry how things have worked out Naomi. I hope we can be friends...”

“I was thinking that too.” she moves to grab a small brown bag and lifts out a pair of emerald shining earrings, handing them to you.

You shake your head “I can’t accept these.”

She snorts. “They’re mine, from Iosef. You can borrow them for tonight.” You open your mouth to protest more but she interrupts “Please...it would make me happy.”

Sighing, and not seeing an alternative, you push the earrings into your ears. The stones reflect light off your dress and make your eyes shine vividly. You look older, more mysterious and even, you dare say, sexy.

Naomi smiles, fussing over you like a doll until she is happy. You look at her. She is wearing a black dress, simpler than you expected, her curls loose down her back and a large diamond necklace glinting at her throat. She does look beautiful, but you are relieved and a little guilty to realise she does not surpass you so far as you feared.

“Go show him…”

You go obediently, finding John with Iosef drinking bourbon. John turns as you walk in and does a double take. Laughing shyly you approach him for a kiss but he grabs your arms to hold you so he can look you up and down. He doesn’t say anything for a while and you start to worry. Iosef is smiling at you.

“You look amazing (Y/N)...like one of those vintage movie stars…”

You flush with pleasure at the compliment and thank him. John still hasn’t said anything so you ignore him.

“Can I reserve the first dance with you?” asks Iosef and you see John bristling out the corner of your eye.

“Of course you can…”

John is busy organising a babysitter for Connor so you sit with Iosef and Naomi. She presses a glass of bourbon into your hand but you don’t feel like drinking ever again so you just swirl it absentmindedly, feeling on edge, wishing that the two guests would just leave so you and John could go back to your life together.

The gala is noisy, full of the city’s richest and finest. Naomi moves amongst them like she was made for it, and John is accosted by various groups. He is popular, and although you are not surprised, his charisma must of course be evident to people other than you, you feel neglected, lonely and out of place as you stand on the side, nursing a full glass of champagne and yawning as Iosef drones on about sports.

He reminds you of your promise to dance with him and as something to do you let him lead you onto the floor. You remember dancing with John at his work ball, how tall and big he felt holding you, the heated look in his eyes as he finally admitted his feelings for you. Iosef in contrast is all skin and bones, you almost feel like you’re leading him. You know you look glum, and feel bad when he comments on it.

“I know you’d rather be dancing with John than me. I feel like us coming here was a bad idea.”

You sigh, touched by his thoughtfulness. “What did make you come here?”

“We had a break from travelling...Naomi just suddenly decided she wanted to see Connor. Believe me I was shocked to learn she was a mother.”

“So she didn’t talk about him before? What about John?”

He shakes his head “Not really...said he was just an old fling…”

You wince. “John told me it was a one night only thing…”

“I honestly don’t know (Y/N)” he says, watching you sympathetically. “You really love him don’t you?”

You glance around and see John and Naomi together, surrounded by a group of John’s colleagues. “I do. I hope that won’t turn out to be a mistake.”

Iosef looks puzzled at your words and you are suddenly moved from his arms to another’s. You look up hopefully but it is Santino and not John who has stolen you away.

“Why were you dancing with Naomi’s toyboy?” he asks lightheartedly, but you’re not in the mood for teasing.

“John is busy…” you growl. “Please explain to me the attraction of that woman…”

“Don’t be jealous principessa..I always told you she’s nothing like you. She’s like the sun, powerful, stunning, but get too close and she will burn or blind you…”

You roll your eyes “you’re giving her a lot of credit. I know it was all a shock but the fact that she left Connor….I can’t forgive her for it.”

Santino sighs. “I’ve forgiven John for sleeping with her.” you grimace and he squeezes your waist in apology. “He’s forgiven me for...coveting, is that the word?” he winks and you blush “for coveting you…”

You glance back towards the group, expecting to see them still talking but John is simply staring at you with dark eyes, and you recognise his look. Worried for Santino you thank him for the dance and start to approach your boyfriend. He meets you half way and sweeps you into his arms and back on the dance floor, leaning in close to gaze into your eyes.

“Are you trying to make me jealous? First Iosef then Santino. You don’t have half a minute for me…”

You resolutely keep your voice calm. “You were busy talking John, I hardly thought you’d notice…”

“Trust me, I did.” he trails his fingers along your bare shoulder and you shiver. His touch affects you like no other. “And this dress brings back good memories…”

He kisses your earlobe and you whimper, trying not to stumble. “I know...the first time you kissed me for real....you were so passionate…”

“Nothing has changed for me (Y/N)...I still look at you and I’m just...helpless…”

Your heart melts and you touch his cheek. “John...

He grabs your hand and kisses your fingers desperately, nipping at them and making you yelp. “Hey...ouch…”

“Sorry…” he says, looking far from contrite. “I’m finding it difficult to control myself...the way you look tonight...”

“I look like her…” you say moodily, gesturing to Naomi and he frowns, puzzled.

“You don’t. Okay maybe your hairstyle is like hers but…”

You tug away from him, upset and he grabs your arm gently in an attempt to stop you but you keep going. Your arm must be covered in marks by this point but you don’t even care. You walk slowly but purposefully out of the main room, just needing a break. John chases after you and with his long legs you know you’ve no hope of getting away.

“Wait (Y/N) please…”

You grind a halt and John reaches you, standing behind you, using his towering height to look round into your face, his broad chest pressed against your bare back. You can feel him breathing hard and feel regret for upsetting him. He slides his arms around your waist and lifts you into a small room off the corridor filled with coats and hats. He gently removes your earrings and pulls the pins from your hair while you stare at him in confusion.

“John...what?”

He gives you a look that makes you shiver down to your bones; sharp desire wrapped in the soft blanket of love. When he kisses you the whole world falls away and you let him push you up against the cloakroom wall. His mouth is on your neck and his hands lift your skirt, he cups you through your panties and you pull away from his insistent mouth to let out a quiet moan.

“Do you still want me?” he asks, vulnerable then for a moment, and you blink hard to focus on him, his handsome face.

“How can you even ask me that?”

“My baggage is increasing by the day (Y/N)...I would understand if you decided it was too much…”

You shake your head. “I’m part of this family aren’t I? I’m not going to run away at the first sign of trouble…”

John rushes at you again, pushing you harder against the wall and you wrap your legs around his waist, sensing his intention. He makes sure you are ready before pushing into you with a sigh of relief. You don’t know why he is so desperate, but you’re glad he is taking it out on you.

“I love you…” he groans deep in his chest, sounding like an injured animal and you kiss his face trying to soothe him.

“When I saw you...dancing with them.I was so jealous. I keep thinking ‘why is she with me when she could have anyone?’”

“I’m jealous too John...seeing you next to her...you make a good couple…”

His hips slow so he can look at you,“and how do we look together? Some old man taking his last chance at some freshness… beauty….youth?”

You shake you head. “Not that I care how it looks but no...I think we look..in love..”

“Forget this jealousy...you’re all I want...” John speeds up his thrusts again and you moan, feeling a couple of coats falling off the wall behind you.

Someone knocks on the door and he freezes.

“Shit John, did you lock the door? You better let me down…”

“I’m not done with you yet…” he growls, leaning away from you to shout towards the door. “Fuck off!”

He sounds so intimidating you hear the footsteps receding, Your giggle into his neck cuts off into a moan as he swivels his hips, holding you up with his strong arms and continuing to thrust deep inside you.

“John...” you whimper his name which seems to spur him on further, and he ruins your work of covering his previous marks on your neck by making more.

You are both being far too loud, and the fear of being discovered adds an illicit thrill to your lovemaking. He moves his fingers between your legs and rubs at you until you’re breathless, feeling a warm buzz coursing through your body

John presses his forehead to yours and looks you dead in the eye as he comes. You can feel him spilling inside you and you shiver. The thought of it..the fact that maybe one day you could have your own baby makes you whimper, shaking in his arms. John holds you easily, watching you face contort with pleasure as if it is some great work of art.

John tucks himself back into his pants and helps you with your dress. Your hair is once again wild around your shoulders with no hope of salvation.

“Oh well...I guess we’ll have to go home, John.”

He blinks at you “Why?”

“I look exactly like someone who’s just been fucked against the wall of a cloakroom John.”

He smirks, and you see the devilish side that you have to admit you love, come to life. “Then we definitely need to go back in...”

He takes your hand and you sigh, holding it and trying not to blush too much at the knowing stares of the room.

#daddy issues #christmas edition #john wick x reader #john wick x you #hehe #i'm having so much fun writing this #does everyone still hate Naomi ?

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cactiem · 7 years ago

Text

five times | c.r

Pairing: Connor Rhodes x Reader

Requested: @speedycatbluebird

Summary: Fives times they almost kissed. One time they did.

GIF Not Mine

The first time you met Connor you didn’t like him much. He came in on a gurney giving compressions to the patient and gave orders like he owned the place even though it was his first day. Your dislike for him reached its peak when you were working on a patient together. Both of you were talking to the patient giving the options for surgery they had when he interrupted you and told the patient the more riskier option and that he recommends that option. You excused yourself from the room giving them time to think about the options they had. On your way out you told Connor. “Dr Rhodes can I have a word with you.” And signalled him to go to the break room. “What the hell was that?” You asked him but before he could answer you continued, your voice risen. “You never ever do that. You don’t undermine my authority in front of a patient, my patient. You shouldn’t have brought up that option without consulting me first because back in there you threw me off and I looked like I was incompetent in front of my patient not knowing about this option, risky option might I add!” You were standing face to face with him now with only a small gap between you both. You never really noticed before but being this close to him you realise just how handsome he truly is. After the heated discussion you just had with Connor you both stood there in silence face one another. You looked at his lips, heat rising to your cheeks, and he looked at yours leaning in but you were both interrupted by Maggie telling Connor he is needed. He quickly retreated and followed Maggie out of the door leaving you standing in the break room to dwell on what just happened.

After that you didn’t hate him as much. The more you got to work with him the more you got to know him and the more you realised he wasn’t a bad person. One day after your shift you were getting ready to go out on a date; you were in the break room finishing your makeup when your phone rang. It was your date calling to cancel saying something came up and that we should reschedule. You disappointed that they cancelled. It was the first time in ages you were going out, you were dressed up and everything. You don’t know how long you sat there on the couch in the break room, you didn’t even notice that someone had come into the room. Your thoughts were interrupted by Connor asking. “Is everything okay, Y/N?” You looked up, startled that someone else was in the room.

“Yeah, of course.” You replied, trying to play off that you were actually not.

“Oh, okay.” Connor said unsure that you actually were okay. “You going anywhere nice tonight?”

“No.” You sighed. “I mean… I was but they cancelled… again.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Connor said with compassion. He was now sat beside you on the couch. “It’s his lost, honestly.”

“I highly doubt that.” You laughed.

“I mean it. You look stunning tonight.” He said tucking a loose bit of hair around your ear. “I mean you look stunning all the time but tonight you look… wow.” You both sat there for a few minutes facing each other until his pager went off telling him he’s needed by a patient.

One night after your shift you decide to go to Molly’s where Connor was also. You ordered your drink and sat with him for the night getting to know each other. He told you that he likes to cook and that he hates he can’t do it more often due to him being on shift. You told him that you wish you could travel more. You both went on to talk about your college days and soon enough it was time to go home. Drink after drink you were slightly tipsy now so Connor offered to walk you home which you graciously excepted. On your way back you suggested to Connor. “We should go to Italy.”

“Italy?” Connor asked, confused as to where this idea came from.

“Yeah, maybe Rome. You could cook breakfast overlooking the city skyline.”

Connor knew you were a little drunk but he liked the idea. He liked the idea of going on vacation with you, travelling to different parts of the world. He liked the idea of cooking you breakfast in the mornings and dinners at night. “Sounds perfect.” He smiled at you. Connor got you to your apartment safe and sound and left you once you were inside.

One day during your shift you walked into the break room for your break when you heard sniffles of someone crying. You paused and looked around noticing Connor was on the floor near the couch. “Sorry, I didn’t know someone was in here. I can go if you want.” You said.

Connor looked up to you and shook his head. “Please stay.” His voice was quiet. You had heard that he had lost a patient earlier and that they were close but you didn’t realise how much it got to him. You felt bad that you couldn’t do anything to help him, to help ease the pain. All you could do was sit beside him on the floor and just be there for him. You reached over and grabbed his hand. He tensed up a bit at first when you did that but relaxed when he saw your reassuring smile you gave him.

“I’m-I’m sorry for you loss.” You said with a comforting tone. Connor responded with a squeeze of your still connected hands. You both sat like this, on the floor in silence holding each other’s hands until he was ready to go back to work.

You decided it was time for a change. You’ve had the same haircut since college and you wanted to switch it up a bit so you got it cut shorter. You walked into the break room with Connor being the only one in there, besides you. He greeted you and looked up. “Wow.” He said.

You gave him a quizzical look. “What you don’t like it?” You asked concerned that your new hairstyle didn’t look as great as you previously thought.

“No, it’s not that. In fact it’s the opposite of that. I love your new hair you look pretty, not that you didn’t before because you did-.”

“Thank you, Connor.” You interrupted him. You were about to say something else before you heard Maggie shout incoming which meant it was the start of your shift.

It was Noah’s graduation party when it happened. You were getting a drink when Connor came over and dragged you to the dance floor to dance with him. You were swaying your hips to the rhythm of the music dancing with Connor. “You can cook and you can dance, what can’t you do?” You asked, you voice slightly risen to be heard over the music.

“Wait, you remembered?” Connor laughed.

“Of course. You still owe me that trip to Italy.” You grinned at him. The song changed to a slower one and you were swaying now, his hands wrapped around your waist.

“Really?” He asked.

“Oh, yeah definitely.”

“It’s a date then.”

“It’s a date.” You were both gazing at each other now. You couldn’t believe that when you first met him you didn’t like him. If someone told you back then that you would be dancing with Connor now you wouldn’t have believed them. At some point you stopped swaying to the music and you just stood there facing each other, like the times before, you glanced at his lips and he glanced at yours. He leaned in which you reciprocated. His lips graced yours, the kiss was gentle and when neither of you pulled back it got more passionate. When you both pulled back you were out of breath slightly. Smiles as big as the Cheshire Cat crept on both of your faces. “Wow.” You said.

“Wow indeed.”

#connor rhodes imagine #connor rhodes x reader #connor rhodes #chicago med imagine #chicago med #chicago fire #chicago pd #chicago justice #one chicago

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la-sorciere-fleur · 7 years ago

Note

#13, Connor Kenway, female reader please?

PROMPT: “I’ll protect you.”WARNINGS: none.

WORD COUNT: 1209

A/N: So sorry this took so long! I hope you enjoy it 😊

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“Connor!” You called out, running to catch up with him.

He stopped, turning to face you and you were able to properly observe the changed hairstyle he now had, as well as the face paint he’d added. He’d come back to the homestead after killing his father, in order to allow his own wounds to heal.

You’d taken care of him and attempted to talk with him about the loss of his father, but he didn’t show whether or not he was affected by the way things had turned out.

Now he was dressed in his Assassin’s robes once again and looked like he was about to leave. You slowed down to a walk as you approached him and his gaze was almost regretful as he regarded you.

Your relationship was a complicated one, as every time Connor seemed to reciprocate your feelings he would back away again. You tried to be as understanding as you could, realising that he was most likely confused by his own emotions in this regard. However, sometimes it was difficult for you to have patience and wait for him to be ready to accept the connection between the two of you.

“Y/N,” he said quietly. “I’m going to New York. Take care of things here until I return.”

“Connor…” you protested. “Why are you going to New York?”

“I have to stop Charles Lee,” he told you. “It’s time to finish this.”

“But it’s so soon!” You argued. “You can’t expect him to have taken the death of your father lightly. He was their leader.”

“How he feels about my father is not my concern,” Connor argued right back. “I will not waste anymore time.”

“But it’s too dangerous!” You said.

“I’m an Assassin, Y/N,” he reminded you. “It’s my duty to stop him, no matter how dangerous it is.”

“At least wait a little longer,” you implored. “Until this has smoothed over a bit.”

“Y/N,” he sighed. “I must not delay. The longer I wait, the more lives are at risk. Charles Lee must die.”

Your shoulders sagged at his words. You didn’t want to accept it, knowing that his life would be in serious danger if he went through with his intentions. You cared about him too much to just willingly let him walk into such a situation.

“I don’t like this,” you mumbled sadly. “I don’t like it at all.”

Connor paused, regarding you carefully in silence. Slowly, he walked closer to you and then his arms wrapped around your body in a comforting embrace.

“I will not die,” he assured you. “It is Charles Lee who will meet his demise. I will come back, Y/N.”

You sighed, relaxing into his hold and relishing in his comforting presence. His grip tightened ever so slightly and you allowed yourself to simply enjoy the moment between the two of you. There was nothing that could compare to the way Connor made you feel - safe, warm and loved.

A sudden thought occurred to you, which caused you to pull back and look deeply into his warm brown eyes.

“Wait!” You exclaimed. “What if I come with you?”

He frowned, but you didn’t take too much notice. You knew a little bit about self-defence, having been taught by Achilles and later Connor himself. However, he didn’t seem pleased by this thought at all.

“You must stay here, Y/N,” he denied the idea.

“Ratonhnhaké:ton,” you said sternly. “I don’t want you to face this alone.”

“This is not your fight,” he argued. “You do not possess the skills to face him!”

“You taught me!” You countered. “I’ll protect you, Connor! I won’t let that man hurt you.”

He moved his hands upwards to cup your cheeks and for the first time his gaze was openly affectionate as he looked down at you.

“It is I who should protect you, Y/N,” he said softly. “That is why Charles Lee must be stopped - to protect you and all the others who are oppressed by him.”

“But Connor,” you pleaded. “I don’t want to lose you!”

He stoked your cheek with his thumb and your heart constricted in your chest.

“You won’t lose me, Y/N,” he vowed. “I will stop him and then I will return to you.”

Fighting off tears, you nodded, knowing that you had no choice but to relent. You looked away from him, your heart sinking as the reality of the situation caught up with you. No matter how certain he was of his own chances at winning, you knew that Lee was a dangerous man and there was a chance that Connor wouldn’t return. However, the very fact that Lee was dangerous was the precise reason why Connor had to stand against him.

The tears spilled forth and immediately Connor wiped them away, his fingers soft and loving as they moved across your cheeks. You looked up at him again, seeing his own inner conflict portrayed through his troubled gaze. There was a possibility that this would be the last time you saw each other and that alone was enough to spur on your next action.

You threw caution to the wind, deciding that it was now or never. Leaning up, you pressed your lips firmly against his in a deep kiss. Connor stood as still as a statue for a moment, completely in shock, before his instincts kicked in. His hands moved down to gently grasp your waist and his lips moved passionately against yours. Connor held you to him protectively, his embrace loving and affectionate. His soft lips moved solicitously against yours, showing through actions alone how much he loved you.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss and his hands wandered down to your lower back. You ran your fingers through his brown hair, loving the silky feeling of it. His hands grasped at your dress, bunching up the material slightly, as his own emotions intensified. You pulled away gently, pressing a kiss to his jaw and then another to the column of his neck.

He shivered slightly from your touch and you smiled. Pulling back completely, you looked up and caught his gaze. He looked bewildered at what had just happened, but you could also sense his happiness. He gave a light squeeze to your waist and you rested your head onto his chest.

“You had better come back to me, Connor,” you mumbled sadly. “I don’t want this to be the only kiss we share.”

He took his time to answer you, fully taking in your words and their meaning.

“I want to share more moments like this with you, Y/N…” he admitted hesitantly. “I will return here as soon as I can.”

You reluctantly pulled out of his embrace, pressing a tender kiss to his cheek as you did so.

“Stay safe,” you told him quietly.

“I will,” he promised.

“I’ll be here when you get back,” you assured him.

His eyes showed what his mouth did not - a genuine warmth and affection. His hands squeezed yours before he released them and turned to continue on his way. You watched his form until you could no longer see it, hoping with every fibre of your being that he would be successful.

#connor kenway x reader #Ratonhnhaké:ton fanfic #connor kenway fanfic #connor kenway fanfiction #Ratonhnhaké:ton x reader #Ratonhnhaké:ton fanfiction

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thekoreanlass · 6 years ago

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I’m not really a big fan of C-dramas or Meteor Garden, but who will forget this phenomenal drama that started from a Japanese manga until it became a TV series that probably has the most remakes? Taiwanese, Korean, Indonesian, and now a Chinese remake!

The Meteor Garden fever has surely converted people of all ages into fans, not just of the drama but the fictional popular quartet F4! Who would forget Dao Ming Si, Hua Ze Lei, Mei Zuo, and Xi Men? The original boys brought us wonderful songs that most 90-ish kids would still remember and sing along to, which would definitely lead us back to memories of the Taiwanese version’s immense popularity.

At that time, I remember myself still being a kid, who willingly followed her older sister’s every whim and recorded every single episode on a tape recorder for her. Those were the dark times that I totally got sick of being in front of the television and the drama, but gladly Vic Zhou was there to grace me with his presence. I so loved Hua Ze Lei as a kid. He was my ultimate crush, that was probably why I started crushing on Yoon Jihoo as soon as the Korean remake took over a few years later.

More than that blast from the past feeling though, the hottest topic this 2018 is the comeback the drama is making through the Chinese remake, starring this generation’s most beautiful faces, Shen Yue (Dong Shan Cai), Dylan Wang (Dao Ming Si), Darren Chen (Hua Ze Lei), Connor Leong (Feng Mei Zuo) and Caesar Wu (Xi Men Yan).

Shen Yue feels very familiar to me after her ‘A Love So Beautiful’ drama aired in my country and boosted in popularity. The boys, however, are all new faces to me but I must say the moment I saw them I really felt good to see that they are taking over the F4 role. Maybe because they all just look so handsome and charming that their face value already makes the cut.

Anyway, I’ve been rambling about the randomest things, but that’s just because I feel excited to talk about the 2018 version after just watching it. I’m up to episode 6 of the drama, so I shall share my first impression about what happened from the beginning to that point.

Here goes nothing!

Catchy Start

What caught my attention when I started episode 1 is how it opened the story with Shan Cai asking ‘Have you ever wondered what will happen to you in the future?’ and concluding how her 18 year old self never thought something like that will happen to her while a scene of her throwing a strong flying kick to Dao Ming Si’s face plays in slow motion.

I think that, that flying kick on the face totally brings a huge head start to the drama, causing for curiosity to uproot as they left what happened a mystery and began the generic introduction of characters. Shan Cai being the ordinary girl who will luckily land the role of heroine in one hell of a rollercoaster ride. And there was also–lo and behold–the notorious F4, who seems even more perfectly described in this version (a really much improved background than their earlier versions!) that it is too good to be true. To fictitious, to say.

Nonetheless, the start of the drama really managed to grab my attention, so I’m giving them a perfect score for that.

Same but Different

So, we get the same thing but maybe with a Chinese twist to it? I’m not sure whether it’s because they want it to be different from its past versions, but this one definitely has a very unique taste to it.

They changed a lot of things like:

Shan Cai’s family background – The original Meteor Garden and even Boys Over Flowers portrayed her as someone coming from a poor family that barely made a living. Here, Shan Cai at least came from an average family with a mom that cooks and gets money from delivering takeouts and has a father that works as a bank manager (I think they said that was his job).

In the previous versions too, her parents look really pathetic to me. I mean, the father and mother were both selling off their daughter to Dao Ming Si / Gu Jun Pyo. But at least, the mother in the Chinese version is not that loud and annoying and although she still dotes on Dao Ming Si so much that she can sell Shan Cai out to him, at least, her father is there to become the buffer that stops her antics.

An even more perfect F4 – If that’s even possible! So, I know it’s kind of cliche now that the poor girl falls in love with the rich guy. It’s a common trope among dramas, but of course we don’t get tired of the rich and handsome guys of F4! As in never get tired of them!

And to make it much better–or worse? but that’s up to you–the drama made these four flower boys even more desirable bachelors. You’ll easily know about how different and better they are right from the first episode when a random Junior walks up to Shan Cai, Qing He and Li Zhen and tells them about the popular F4.

Dao Ming Si may be the forever pineapple haired guy (his hairstyle gets even better too!), but he’s now finally equipped with the knowledge of being able to speak three or four languages and a talent for business. The old Dao Ming Si can’t even get a quote right, which was really funny back then. He was handsome and rich, but not so smart. But now he can just be everything, well except for the short temper and his anger management problems plus obsession for Shan Cai.

Hua Ze Lei used to be just quiet and snobbish like a cold prince in the older versions, but this drama made it so that they could explain his introverted behavior as related from the slight autism he had when he was a kid and is supposedly cured by the great Teng Tang Jing. Can you even cure autism? I made my own research and gladly they said a minority portion of those people with autism get cured depending on the severity of their autism and the therapies they go through over the years, but its still debatable. However, giving this drama the benefit of the doubt, this is fiction. I’m not gotta criticize it for not knowing any better. For sure, they know what they are doing.

Mei Zuo and Xi Men – so they’re like the third in command in all the versions if you ask me. I’m pretty sure, in terms of appearance, they are of equal importance. Two obnoxious, overprotective friends with a tendency to womanize. I see women hanging around them everywhere, but that’s their role. It’s the casanovas that are more interesting to watch. However, like I said they are the ‘much improved’ versions: wherein Mei Zuo has an impeccable memory that they can never lose in the card game ‘Bridge’ and Xi Men has a liking for tea, due to his family background.

I’m not sure if this is going to sound nicer and may help them look smarter, but I think this version of F4 is the milder, much civilized guys. I mean, they don’t bully someone so randomly out of the blue and make their lives a living hell. Instead, as it was explained, they are so good at the card game ‘Bridge’ (that they even have a club for that!) that many people want to challenge them and to stop anyone from just randomly challenging them, they set an odd rule that you need to first receive the ‘Joker’ card as an invitation for a Bridge match.

That doesn’t sound like much what would bad boys do, right? It would have been nicer if they stuck to the original, but I guess this isn’t so bad either. At least, if they challenge somebody it would make much more sense. Plus, they look really cool playing that game.

Hello ‘Joker’! – So, bye bye to that red card that Dao Ming Si used to send his victims and say ‘hello’ to the less threatening ‘Joker’ card in your locker. Prepare to lose in the game of Bridge with F4 and eat some slippers as the consequence!

At least, it’s befitting for them to use the card, though, right?

College and Milk Tea – I get it every version of Shan Cai is different that’s why she’s a freshman in the Nutrition course here and she works part time at a milk tea shop called ‘Talented’ with Xiao Yu.

Fights and Reconciliations – Well, I remember Li Zhen–Shan Cai’s newfound friend–also liking Dao Ming Si in the past and because she’s jealous of Shan Cai she intentionally sets her up so that she looks like she slept with someone she met at a club.

The same friend betrays her in this version, but her reason is sort of different and somehow ‘coincidental’ and Shan Cai ends up forgiving her because she’s just that kind of person and Dao Ming Si can never have a say about it or kick her out of university since he doesn’t own it. But at least, all is well. And to be honest, I like how things ended up well between these two friends in this version, since the problem arose from something trivial and it’s just unreasonable for someone to drop out because they were being bullied for some petty reason, right?

Meteor Garden 2018 gets you hooked by these positive changes and makes the drama a bit lighter than its older versions that are leaning more on its dramatic quotient.

However, on another note, I must admit that Shan Cai didn’t experience as much hardship as the old Shan Cai did. Dao Ming Si bullies her in the most childish sense, plotting childish jokes that you can’t call disturbing. I guess, because he’s been sheltered for long enough and didn’t grow up dating girls left and right, that he is having a hard time expressing himself to her and with his very impatient personality makes him extremely possessive of her.

The lack of emotional turmoil boxes the potential of each of them to do even better in portraying their role, however.

So, in a nutshell, Meteor Garden looks totally brand new with the many additions, but still has more room to improve with the acting. Not saying, they aren’t good, but there got to be something more with that actor or actress. So, I’m looking forward to improvement until it’s 48th episode!

Fast Pacing

Is it just me or this drama is moving too quickly that I’m getting worried what more will they show in the next 44 to 48 episodes?

Not that I am complaining about the quick pacing, it’s just that maybe I am not used to it. The Taiwanese version really had a slow, agonizing pace that I would not really stick to it until the end if I had to do a marathon, while this one was just like leafing through pages in a book while only skimming it very briefly, which I think is good but pretty worrisome. Not unless they have more to show that won’t be dragging and not just a filler, then I guess the pacing should be fine.

Total Flower Boys

I can definitely say that this version totally left me drooling at the boys. All of them are really good looking you can’t say they’re a waste. They do have their different charms that set them apart from each other, but in total all of them are likable eye-candies!

I used to be a solid Hua Ze Lei kind of girl, but after watching Dylan Wang portray Dao Ming Si, I can’t help but fawn over the boy. He just fits the prickly, childish and short-tempered rich boy role that’s not too rough but not kind looking either. At some points, he’s cute and surprisingly I don’t despise him for childishly annoying Shan Cai.

The Strong-willed Wild Flower that often bends

You can say that Shan Cai is that heroine who doesn’t easily back down from a challenge. She’s always been stubborn and antagonizing, especially towards Dao Ming Si. She’s been consistent in this love-hate relationship they have that sometimes it’s hard to believe how they ended up together.

But I must say I sometimes feel anxious about Shen Yue’s version of Shan Cai. She’s a good actress and its nice she can easily tear up when an emotional scene comes up, but why do I feel like this Shan Cai is being more fickle now than before? She’s fickle that I find it annoying she lets Dao Ming Si kiss her without a fight even when she likes Hua Ze Lei. I think she sounds more like a pushover or a very easy person, especially when she lets Hua Ze Lei kiss her after just seeing him kiss another girl without any second thoughts and while bringing her along with him at the beach.

A Real Douche

Excuse me for my opinion, but now that I’ve watched this version, I can’t help but think Hua Ze Lei is the real douche here and not Dao Ming Si, who did nothing but devotedly love Dong Shan Cai, I mean, Lei may appear like a cool guy because he’s quiet and introverted and he doesn’t look like he can play any tricks at girls, but the thing is he keeps stringing Shan Cai along–even kissing her cheek without any proper reason and even if he didn’t like her back then when he did it–even if he likes Jing. He even follows her to Paris and lives with her, but just because she doesn’t make time for him and he’s not man enough to be able to save their relationship, that he leaves and shakes up Dao Ming Si and Shan Cai’s blossoming love-hate relationship.

Well, I’m not saying he’s bad, but still for sure no one wants to be the second option when it comes to the person you like. No matter what, a girl needs to have some self-respect and can’t treat herself unjustly by having false hopes that one day this stupid guy will look at you. And Lei shouldn’t be that guy that gives her false hopes just because he knew she likes her and then only goes back to her after realizing Jing doesn’t need him. That’s just plain stupid. Like seriously. I’d rather pick the person who genuinely likes me more and not the person who will only give me the second place. You won’t be truly happy with someone who only puts you second in his life.

Romance

It’s still so complicated like before that it’s unbelievable. I can’t say that there will be such romance in reality, but nonetheless, I totally feel like the chemistry between Dylan Wang and Shen Yue is like second nature to them that you may find them rather unarguably cute together and suited for each other. Together, they make my heart really flutter like a teenager and grin like an idiot nonstop.

Over all

Surprisingly, I think I am being won over by this drama to another level after watching its first few episodes. Of course, I had my own doubts upon hearing another remake is on its way, but with some leap of faith that it wouldn’t just be some cheap drama remake, I think that it’s worth the wait and the time I invested on watching it.

I can’t say that it surpassed the other versions, because they all have their different charms. But I can probably say that Meteor Garden 2018 managed to surpass itself. With its impeccable cast and the awesome production and directing, it surpassed expectations of most Meteor Garden fans.

Plus, add the fact that its very lighthearted in its element compared to the past versions and really much cuter that it must attract, too, the younger audience.

I will not dwell with the fact, though, that it’s pretty long for 40+ episodes times 40 minutes worth of TV viewing per episode and will just enjoy the flow of things while it can entertain me so I wouldn’t overthink about its length being a disadvantage at this time. Maybe they can use it to their advantage too, but who knows? Only time will tell.

Nonetheless, I will recommend this to anybody who just simply loves Meteor Garden at any day. You should try it if you’re up for another Meteor Garden fever and be charmed by the eternal F4!

I will rate this drama 4.7 out of 5 for surprising me and getting me hooked!

See you later for my On going and Final review for this drama in the future!

First Impression: Meteor Garden (2018) I'm not really a big fan of C-dramas or Meteor Garden, but who will forget this phenomenal drama that started from a Japanese manga until it became a TV series that probably has the most remakes?

#2018 #Caesar Wu #Chinese #college #Connor Leong #Darren Chen #drama #Dylan Wang #Meteor Garden #Remake #review #romance #Shen Yue #thekoreanlass

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cocvillereloaded-blog · 7 years ago

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Chapter 3- De Capo Aria: Bel Canto de Verismo)

Connor shifted his weight for the fiftieth time that night, visibly uncomfortable. He absolutely hated these stuffy, boring formal outings. Everybody around him always felt so tired and lifeless, at least that’s how they made him feel. The way these posh elitists talked with their weird accents just rubbed him the wrong way, as if they never knew what they were talking about but they were so sure of what they said anyway, hoping that someone would be impressed with them. Why did his uncle even bother with this place?

It didn’t help that the opera was dull as dirt either. He glanced down at his tiny, six-page program. These damn things never told you what was supposed to be happening. The only thing that told him anything was the front that read “COCville Opera House Presents: Where Love Goes.” He groaned and tossed the program over his shoulder. He didn’t even need to read the plot blurb for this, or even to understand what the singers were even saying to know what was happening. The dead boyfriend from the scene earlier had returned to his girlfriend, who sang and gestured at other people that had to be the family she had during the guy’s absence. And here was the guy’s vows to not leave until she returned his love, or something. He groaned again. God, this is so boring! Who wrote this?! He tried to shift in his seat so he can get the program back in a way that wouldn’t grab the attention of the one person in the box with him that he recognized.

“Yes, my dear sir, five hundred feet tall, it was, I say! Nothing at all like the shabby thirty-foot curtains in this excuse of an establishment!” the fat, frilly Gengar sitting opposite him was yelling to his guest beside him, who looked as if he wanted to leave more than Connor did. He couldn’t say he blamed him, though; this man was around complaining since Connor was a child. “Yes, sir, I say they should’ve demolished this eyesore of a theatre when that Charizard fellow left us! Oh, what was his name, Charles wasn’t it? But no, instead he just had to leave it with his nephew! Or was he the man’s son? Oh, I’ve never been so good with remembering these things! All I remember is that he didn’t leave the property to Gerald Gengar Pewtersby!”

Connor always felt like this Pewtersby guy didn’t like his uncle. He sighed and sat back in his seat. If for no other reason, he supposed that the best thing for him to do would be to wait it out. He felt like doing anything else would just leave Uncle Carl’s standing legacy to the mercy of this disrespectful fat cat. Outside of that, though, Uncle Carl always stuck it out for him before, so it only felt right to do the same for him, even if he passed on. This could be seen as payment for the money too. He thought back to that large inheritance. Man, he just couldn’t get over that. He already did his best to make a difference in the lives of his friends with it. Bram’s ring, Sam’s rug. He hoped Sam liked it enough to forgive him.

Once the overture came on, Connor felt his phone buzzing. He tried to check it in a way more respectful to those around him than stupid Pewtersby was. It was a text from Sam asking if he wanted to go out to lunch tomorrow. Connor texted ‘yes, of course’ back to him then added that to his calendar before the curtain went up. Good, we’re making progress, at least.

The curtain went back up, and Connor did his best to turn his head in a way that made it seem like he was paying attention. And that was when he saw her. She must have been an angel, she was far too beautiful for this world. This new lead singer had deep black eyes and bright blue hair that stuck up in two places almost like a cowlick. Connor could see the silver string keeping her hairstyle in place from where he sat. She was wrapped in a white and blue dress and wore a furry white scarf around her neck. Her voice was everything Connor assumed to be all of heaven and everything good in the world converted entirely to sound.

Connor found that he could ignore that idiot Pewtersby much easier now. (“I swear, the morons in charge must want to leave the business. They promised up and down that this role would be Wiona Wigglytuff!”) It took him a minute more until it struck him. He’d seen this lovely woman before: “Anna…” he whispered to himself.

After not seeing her since before high school, Anna Altaria, the girl from next door suddenly reappears. He kept his eyes on her, remembering back to the days of their childhood, the entire concept of the opera now completely irrelevant. He remembered when his uncle introduced him to her and her parents. He always said that his neighbors were very good friends, and up until that point Connor didn’t understand why. Then again, he was quite young, so he didn’t understand a lot of what his uncle said or did. He thought back to their treehouse, where the two kids would spend their entire summers together. As the years went on, Connor and Anna were said by the adults to be like two peas in a pod, if Uncle Carl was to be believed. He remembered how much Anna liked to make s’mores with his tail and talk to him about how she wanted to be a singer or ballerina. To be on stage, to have everyone clapping and cheering for her, that had always been her dream. Connor smiled wider; looks like she’s gotten her wish. Even back then, Connor didn’t have a dream like she did. He remembered how this bugged her. As he continued reminiscing he remembered how Uncle Carl would play on his violin as the sun went down. He still remembered the melody and shook his head in bemusement as he remembered on in particular. Looking back, it was as if Uncle Carl wanted them to get together. Maybe that’s why he asked me to come here. The old dog.

Connor sighed again, but was suddenly brought back to reality when a pair of opera glasses tapped him on the head. Connor died a little inside when he learned they belonged to Pewtersby.

“I must say, my good fellow, it’s impolite to those around you to be so loud and obnoxious in the middle of an opera house.” Connor didn’t reply; he just stared at the Gengar, dumbfounded by the lack of self-awareness, before turning back to the opera and returning his cheek onto his knuckles. Quietly.

Anyway, that treehouse. Connor loved that old treehouse. But it did have a few sobering memories tied to it too. He last saw Anna in that treehouse, right before they went off to high school. They lived in different towns, and Connor was only with his Uncle during the summers. At the time, he thought the kind of sadness he felt at their parting ways as what every friend felt in that situation, when school beckoned them away from each other, never to see one another again, it seemed. He knew better now, though. He didn’t feel the same way he did towards Sam or Bram as he did for Anna; Connor definitely had a crush on her. Maybe Uncle Carl just acted on what he saw from Connor, trying to make him happy. Connor didn’t know for sure. Despite how much time he’d spent with his uncle, he still wasn’t entirely convinced he knew how that weirdo thought. Connor could not bring himself to remember the exact conversation they had before she left. All he remembered was that Anna was going away to a prestigious art school a very long ways away and she would not be able to spend summers with him anymore. He still remembered quite vividly the knot that developed in his chest. He tried to hide his feelings, but it was obvious to Anna that he was upset by the news. Connor cried a little that night once she had left since he was trying to be a manly man about it in front of her, back when he still cared about such things. Ever since, he would ask his uncle if she was back, to which he’d always answer no. He seemed rather down every time he had to answer this way.

Man, Anna Altaria! He still couldn’t believe he finally saw her again. As the curtain fell, Connor immediately shook away the memories, escaped from the still-complaining Pewtersby, and made his way towards the opera owners – Travis Flygon and William Beedrill. Connor had met them earlier that day when he dropped by to confirm that he was taking his uncle’s place as the main supporter of the opera house.

“Well, she seemed like she did fine to me,” Travis was saying as Connor began walking over. It sounded like he was trying to convince William of something. “I don’t know why we have to give the main spotlight back to Wiona if she ever comes back.”

“If we don’t, there will be rioting in the streets! Wiona is a world-renowned opera star! We can’t replace her with some… with some nobody!” William snapped.

“Look, Will, I see why you’d be concerned, but I feel like we really have some untapped goldmine on our hands! I’d hate to see any of our talent go to waste.”

“It’s too much of a risk to do it now, Trav. I want to see our actors used as best they can be too, but we have too much to lose if we replace Wiona right now.”

Travis shrugged before running his hands through his dark green hair and wiggling his pink shaded glasses a bit. Connor noticed that Travis’s tail twitched as well.

“Hello, gentlemen!” Connor said in an amiable voice. Travis and William both scrambled to finish the preceding conversation and greet Connor. “Who was on stage tonight? I thought Wiona was going to -” Connor began.

“Oh, well, that’s Anna Altaria.” Travis stammered.

“Really?” Connor gasped. It was her!

“Wiona will come back, we’re sure of it though. Anna is just a chorus girl after-” William started.

“May I go see her?” Connor asked, not even realizing William had begun a sentence.

“Wiona?”

“Uh, no, Anna.”

“Oh. Um… sure.” The two businessmen instantly agreed. They headed back towards the changing rooms, which a grim-looking Sierra Leavanny watched over.

“Do you need an introduction?” William Beedrill asked nervously, doing his best not to upset his opera’s newest and biggest patron.

“I don’t think that’ll be necessary,” Connor said before he began to knock on the door. If she truly remembered him, she would remember this knock. One knock, a slight pause, two soft knocks. It was his signature knock – he used it when he wanted Anna to open her bedroom window back in the day.

“Come in,” came a soft, hushed, humble voice from within. Connor let himself into the room and smiled as he was met with a grown-up version of his friend taking off her jewelry and makeup.

“Madame Leavanny, you don’t have to check on me every-” Anna began before catching Connor’s reflection in the mirror. “Oh, you’re not Madame Leavanny.”

“Never said I was. You’re Anna, right?” Connor asked.

“Yes. If you’re here to ask why Miss Wiona left today, I’m afraid I don’t have the slightest idea.” Anna replied, taking off the giant jeweled necklace she was wearing over her scarf.

“No, actually, I’m not. To be honest, I don’t care if Wiona falls off a cliff. You were wonderful out there.” Connor said, stammering on his last sentence. He broke into a cold sweat, realizing too late how he sounded. Damnit, why’d you rush it?!

She was looking at him with suspicion now, and Connor knew he’d creeped her out. “Um, okay. Look, I don’t know who gave you permission to come back here, but I’m going to ask you to kindly leave before I call security-” Anna began.

“No, wait! I’m sorry,” Connor squeaked quickly. Squeaked. Damnit. He hated himself so much, why’d he have to be an idiot this quickly?! “I’m not in here to do anything to you, I swear! I just… I just wanted to know if you remembered me.”

Anna remained motionless for a second before removing her scarf and turning to face him. “Remember you?” She lifted an eyebrow dangerously, or at least it felt dangerous to Connor. “Can’t say I do. Where would we have met each other?” This was not going the way Connor had hoped it would at all. A small part of him expected that he’d stride in confidently and greet her with a smile, earning her fawning adoration. Apparently that only worked for Bram.

“Well, um, it’s- it’s Connor. Connor Charizard. You remember, right? We used to spend every summer together as kids… I had a tree house?” He began, not budging from his spot near the door in case he had to flee suddenly.

The silence between them was pushing down on Connor’s shoulders more and more. The only sound in the room came from the after party outside the door. Anna’s eyes danced around as they did whenever she was deep in thought. Just as Connor could no longer take the suspense, Anna lit up and gasped. All of the memories they shared when they were younger may as well have been playing back on a projector reel behind her eyes. “Wait, Uncle Carl, right?”

“Yeah!” Connor felt he could die inside, this time for a completely different reason.

“Yeah, I remember now! Uncle Carl would play the violin, and I’d sing along. You always said I was wonderful at singing.” Even though they weren’t actually related, Anna always referred to Uncle Carl as her own uncle, a sentiment that he didn’t shy away from sharing with the girl. Thinking back to it, Connor remembered how he seemed to want the two kids to be together, how he’d ask them if she was staying every time she had to leave. At the time, they both thought he was joking.

Anna, beaming and looking even more beautiful than she did on stage a few moments before, began excitedly listing off her memories they had together, which Connor was more than happy to join in on. Together, they remembered the times they got into trouble with the neighbor behind Uncle Carl, the awful Mr. Sullivan Granbull, by accidentally dropping things into his backyard. “Still not sure why he didn’t actually live in his house,” Anna wondered aloud. They recalled the time that they were stuck in their treehouse during a terrible lightning storm. It actually got to the point where Anna had to do everything she could to keep Connor dry or else his tail fire would have gone out. They were almost afraid to go back into the treehouse for a few days afterwards. Connor remembered how Anna got so exhausted from protecting her friend from the elements that she fell asleep on top of him. He said nothing to her about it back then, and he wasn’t about to say anything now. Anna then recollected the one summer where they tried to make a go cart in their tree house. They almost had it ready before they realized they didn’t know how to get it back out. Because it was more Uncle Carl’s idea, they both just left him to get it out. He didn’t seem to mind, though, he always was such a good-natured man.

“Did Uncle Carl send you?” Anna continued. “I haven’t seen him for weeks now. He’s always talking about you.”

Connor felt like he’d been rudely punched in the gut as he was pulled back to the present day. “Um… no. Uncle Carl’s…. well, he passed away last night.”

Anna gasped in shock, tears welling up in her eyes as she turned back to her mirror to try and hide them. “Oh, I… I’m sorry.” She turned back to Connor, not trying as hard to hide the tears. “Why didn’t I hear sooner?”

Connor reached for her hand, trying to be reassuring. “It’s not your fault, Anna. It only happened last night, and you’ve been pretty busy lately.”

“It’s just- I knew he was sick, but I- I thought he was getting better…” Anna choked, tears rolling down her cheeks. Connor knew she and Uncle Carl got along, that they probably still talked when she started working here, but he didn’t think they’d been this close for all this time.

“He left me the opera sponsorship. So that’s why I came here. Maybe, in a way, this was him sending me.” Connor chuckled, trying to make her smile. He was starting to believe his own words, though. He really was trying to enforce his will from beyond the grave, it seemed.

Anna sniffled and looked at her vanity, searching for a handkerchief to dry her tears. “First time in years you see me, and I have to start crying,” she muttered bitterly, the last word uttered as if cursing herself. “I’m sorry, Connor.”

“Don’t be.” Connor handed her the handkerchief he found in his suit pocket earlier that day when he bought the suit.

“Thank you,” Anna said between sniffles.

“You can keep it. I’ll get another one.” Connor smiled.

Anna smiled back, her eyes still a little weepy. He hated to see her cry, he always did, but he couldn’t shake how cute she looked.

“Oh, Connor!” Anna exclaimed suddenly, wrapping her arms around him and hugging him close. “I thought you had forgotten all about me!”

“Forgotten you? I could never forget you!” Connor replied, hugging her back. “I went to Uncle Carl’s almost every week to ask him if you came back from school yet. By the way, when did you come back?”

“Just a couple of weeks ago,” Anna admitted, pulling away from their hug. Connor let her go, albeit with a reluctance he tried to hide. “I was thinking about going to look for you, but I thought that’d be weird. That I’d look like a crazy stalker or something.”

You mean like I just did? He felt himself turning red.

Anna noticed this and smiled. “Well, anyway. I have a job here at the opera as a member of the chorus.”

“Only the chorus? But your voice… you were the star tonight!” Connor added. He wished someone told him about her being in the chorus, whoever came up with that idea would have a piece of his mind!

“Well, that’s only because Wiona left the opera house today in a rage. Someone wrote her a note about how she’s our worst singer. I can’t blame whoever sent it, though, her singing sends me to sleep.” Anna sighed.

Connor thought this over. The only person he could think of that would care enough would have to be that Pewtersby guy. Wait, no, that doesn’t make sense. He wanted her to be here, didn’t he? Right?? He shook this off and laughed a bit. “Well, you deserve her job anyway.” Connor was being as serious about his words as he felt he could be. Anna let out a slight, weary chuckle. “What?” Connor asked.

“You always think things like that, Connor. You always say I’m amazing.” Anna sighed.

“But it’s true!” Connor interjected.

“I’ll take your word for it,” Anna mused. “What have you done since I’ve been gone? It’s been a good… eight, ten years?”

“Oh. I’m a chef at Mimi’s Diner.” Connor muttered, trying to say it under his breath so she wouldn’t notice his embarrassment.

“Oh, you work at Mimi’s? I’ve been planning on going sometime, I haven’t been since they first opened! I’m glad to see that you’re cooking professionally!” Anna said, grinning ear to ear as she slid off her bracelets. “You always made the best food. You need to make me that award-winning quiche of yours now that we found each other again!”

Connor matched his friend’s smile at the mention of his quiche. Not only was it award-winning, it was an undefeated champion. He’d perfected it because his Uncle Carl and Anna loved it so much. She was better than he remembered. Not only has she not changed as the sweet person she was, but she was now the star that liked being a person just as much. There needed to be more people in the world like her.

Anna and Connor spent a good half hour chatting away until Anna asked him to leave so she could change out of her bulky opera costume. Connor agreed, said goodbye, and decided he’d head on home. It was the first time in forever that either one of them had felt so cherished.

I hope it stays this way for a while, Connor thought as he walked up the stairs to his apartment.

Chris glared over at the approaching enemy as she stood defiantly between them and her fine city of CWCville. Yet another day of fighting; hopefully this will be the last. Her friends in the Chaotic Combo stood behind her, awaiting the battle alongside her. Chris was glad they were all there for her. And not just them, but also her otherdimensional counterpart, Night Star, and the Draconequus Discord were there to help her out. Punchy smacked his spiked fists together a few times and swung at the air. "Let's get going!"

Chris pointed imperatively at the approaching horde and shouted "Graduon!" The army stopped in response, and the two leaders, Count Graduon and Dr. Ren Skysoar, pulled up to the front. Skysoar looked bemused by all this, while the wizard Graduon looked more serious about this whole thing. "You and Kurome are both misguided! You're stopping here and now, so make this easier on yourself and turn back!"

Sonichu jumped in front of his mother in a ready stance. "Yeah, go away before we make you!"

The horde of villains laughed. Chris didn't falter, but took a quick look around at the army of Jerkops, Janekops, enormous lumbering Decepticlones, and artificial lifeforms from the world of Gamindustri. Graduon replied with "Hmph. Sorry, Christine Weston Chandler, but we've prepared for you all this time. You cannot stop us this time!"

Chris looked around at her friends. Sonichu, Punchy, Wild, they were revving to go. Rosechu, Bubbles, Robee, Cera, Christine Rosechu, they eyed the enemy with determined expressions. Angelica Rosechu hovered above them, hands clasped to ready herself for healing. Silvana, Blake, and Simonla looked over to Chris, hoping she knew what she was doing. The unicorn Night Star and Discord glanced at each other, light, knowing smiles on their faces. Chris glanced at Magi-Chan, who stared ahead with his arms crossed, and smirked before turning back to their opponents. "Okay, have it your way." Magi-Chan, give the signal.

Right. And with that, the psychic hedgehog closed his eyes, prompting a small army of police officers, and several Transformers to run in from around the many street corners to join the heroes. Five figures in body suits, one red, one yellow, one blue, one pink, and one green, all jumped in from atop a building, all striking different martial arts poses directly behind Chris. Angelica gasped in surprise when she looked around her and found five girls with mechanical wings hovering around her. “The Gamindustri Goddesses!”

One of these Goddesses with orange hair laughed. “Yep! Chris thought it’d be a better idea to get this going before taking the time to tell you guys.”

Chris laughed at the surprise on Graduon’s and Skysoar’s faces. “Uzume’s right, guys! Sorry to keep y’all in the dark! Well, Count Graduon! If we can’t convince you with words, I guess we’ll just have to do this the old-fashioned way.” And with that, she pressed her hands across her chest, and the Sonichu Medallion around her neck. She burst out in a flash of bright light, and immediately traded out her human form for the form of a blue-furred humanoid hedgehog like her allies, including a thunderbolt-shaped tail, ears, and a black nose. Chris pointed at their enemies, who have now recovered from the shock of a small army appearing from nowhere to oppose them. “Get ready, everybody!”

Graduon’s eyes glowed red as he seemingly grew a couple of inches in anger. “ATTACK!!” he hollered in a distorted, deeper voice than the one he used a moment ago. Skysoar pressed multiple buttons on a remote control as he cackled madly. Seemingly in response to his inputs, the army of Jerkops advanced on the defense force, the Transformers immediately engaged with a swarm of Decepticlones. A man in a full suit of metallic and red jumped forward yelling as he attacked the Power Rangers, the Jerkops strangely acting as if setting a defensive perimeter around this man. Another Jerkop with metal limbs bounced around several times, screaming a battle cry, as he attacked Blake, who managed to block the hit with a well-timed elbow strike. The two combatants continued to trade blows as they ran off. A forty-foot-tall robot with a head in a jar affixed atop the body ran forward and clashed with Son-Chu, the two giant robots wrestling each other, refusing to give ground. A black man in golden armor rushed the Goddesses, letting out a roar more like a lion’s than a man’s as he rammed himself into Neptune. Another black man from the PVCC’s side yelled out a sentence that nobody managed to hear properly as he shot after Punchy, Bubbles, and Wild.

Sonichu rushed in as fast as he could, leading his family in the charge, as he made straight for Graduon. “You’re wide open, Graddy!-“ He suddenly yelled out in pain, his family in surprise, as a large yellow metallic object rushed him and flew about with him in tow. Sonichu grunted as he tried to break free. “Metal Sonichu!” The robot replied by pushing its prey into the side of a building, running him along the windows, dealing lots of damage, and showering the embattled streets below with glass and debris.

Robee found herself leading the family this time, now in pursuit of her father. “C’mon, guys, they’re getting away!” She blew down 30th street, bowling over Jerkops along the way, with her mother and sisters doing everything they can to try and keep up.

“Slow down, we can’t keep up!” Cera yelled in vain after her sister.

Christine ran alongside her mother and glanced over inquisitively. “You have a plan, Mom?”

“Uh, let me think…” Rosechu examined the area as they ran along, trying to find something they could use to maybe make a trap of some kind.

+++

Chris didn’t have time to wonder what happened to Sonichu before she ducked under and knocked away several Jerkops. She could see him. Graduon. If she could take him out, they win. She rushed at Graduon, who noticed and simply stood there, glaring at her. Suddenly, she too got knocked back by some unseen force. She gingerly lifted herself off the ground as a familiar laughing voice came closer and closer. “Naitsirhc!”

“We’ve got a score to settle, Christine,” the green-haired hedgehog spat before kicking her several feet into the air. Midway through her arc, however, Chris managed to regain her composure, perform three flips in midair, and land on the ground. She immediately dodged away from a dive kick and pushed herself back into the new opponent’s stomach.

“Why didn’t I expect you to appear?” She blocked two punches aimed at her face and replied with a kick.

Naitsirhc blocked the kick and smirked. “Maybe it’s because you’re a stupid girl, now, bro!”

Chris growled, noticing in her peripheral vision as Graduon lifted his hand, palm facing towards her, as he prepared to fire an energy blast at her. Suddenly, his arm transformed into a tree branch. “What?!”

“Not so fast, Graduon!” Chris smiled; it was Night Star. Discord floated beside her, the way he held his claws suggesting that the transfiguration was his doing. “You can’t get past all of us! Magi-Chan!”

“Right!” The hedgehog fired a Psybeam at the villain, who managed to break off his tree branch of an arm, replaced with an instantly-regrown human arm, just in time to engage the attack in a beam lock. Graduon yelled out in anger as he held back the magic from the two Equestrians and the attack from Magi-Chan.

Chris continued trading blows evenly with Naitsirhc, who seemed to be enjoying himself immensely. They rushed in and out, punching and kicking and shooting off lightning at each other each chance they got, but neither managing to gain any ground on the other. Chris grunted and turned her attention to Graduon again as an idea struck her. She didn’t exactly need to defeat Graduon. “Graduon, you have to listen! Kurome doesn’t want what she told you she wants!” The wizard didn’t pay her any heed, probably because of the battle he found himself in. Still, she had to try. “She doesn’t want to rule the world, she wants to destroy it!”

Naitsirhc laughed and landed a punch on Chris’ left cheek. “What’re you tryna do, win him over with lies or something? You should focus on me first, bro!”

Chris rubbed her cheek and narrowed her eyes at Naitsirhc. “Rrgh. Fine.” She yelled out and ran at her opponent, fist clenched.

+++

Uzume blasted their opponent with her megaphone as the others tended to Neptune. Whoever this guy was, he knew how to hit hard. Vert was shouting at Neptune, trying desperately to get her to answer if she was alright, and Neptune, who was still not quite on her feet yet, was yelling back that she couldn’t hear her friend. Eventually she ran out of breath, much to the Manajerk’s happiness.

“I said ‘Are you alright’?!” Vert asked again, louder than she probably needed to.

“What?!” Nep asked again. “Oh, whatever! Let’s get ‘em!” She yelled out, knocked away her friends’ hands, and swooped forward, attempting to slash at her target. Right behind her, Noire followed suit, her sword in hand and trying to yell louder than Nep. The Manajerk simply smirked and parried Nep’s backflip kick and three kicks from midair, before being staggered by a sudden high-speed slash from Noire. Nep then followed this up with two slashes to the man’s head and uppercutting him into the air.

“Good work, Nep!” Noire shouted as she slashed at her target three times, getting him to yell out and ragdoll a bit. Nep followed this up by slashing at him a bit more and knocking him back to the ground, where Noire encircled the opponent at high speed and slashed more times than the girl could count. The man snarled in annoyance as he continued hitting the ground from these attacks.

Nep clenched her fist victoriously. “Yeah!”

“I didn’t need your help, Nep.”

“Yeah, sure. Ready?”

“Yeah.” The two girls readied their weapons, yelled again, and rushed their opponent once more.

The Manajerk rubbed his chin before swinging his kanabo, sending the two girls flying backwards to collide face-first with the ground. The other three gasped as Vert called out “Nep!” and Uzume called out “Noire!” in concern. The Manajerk stood back up and cracked his neck. “Annoying bitches,” he said with a rumbling hiss before beginning to lumber towards them, his studded club in hand.

Nep pulled her head from underneath a mound of dirt. “Wow, that hurt. What’ve they been feeding him?!”

A cackle erupted from nearby, a voice belonging to Skysoar. “Only the finest in genetic manipulation, my dear! Now B-Manajerk is so much more than a man!”

Blanc crossed her arms in disapproval. “’Manajerk’? That’s what you’re calling them?? Really?”

“Exterminate them!!”

B-Manajerk raised his weapon and rushed at them, each step shaking the ground around them much more than a man of his size should have. Acting on instinct, Neptune reached for every single Preset Disk she had and threw them at the advancing soldier, who ignored every single effect they inflicted on him. Ice forming, blasts of fire and wind, growths of rock, they did absolutely nothing to penetrate his golden armor, and did even less to the man’s killer instinct. He reached the girls in a few seconds and smashed them all into the side of a building with a single swing of his weapon.

Uzume could barely see straight. Nep was right. This guy did hit hard, really hard. She felt a large lump on her head as she drunkenly flew her way back to the battlefield ahead of the others. “’Genetic manipulation’, you said?” she asked without even really thinking about why she was asking this.

Skysoar put his hands on his hips dramatically and smirked up at them proudly. “That’s right! He is now no longer human!” He pointed imperatively at Uzume before continuing. “B-Manajerk now has the genetic makeup of the legendary oni! B-Manajerk, a demonstration!!”

The man bellowed like a cow as he transformed before everyone fighting nearby, growing horns and tusks, a third eye in the middle of his forehead, and growing to fifty feet tall. His roars now shook the nearby buildings, breaking some windows along the way, and prepared a small hellstorm of magma breath. “EVERYBODY DUCK!” Neptune yelled as everyone narrowly avoided being scorched. Vert flew as high as she could, Uzume bolted to the left, Noire to the right, and Blanc jumped backwards, narrowly avoiding getting her hat singed. Neptune looked up and noticed what everyone just did. “Guys, why didn’t you duck?!” Everyone replied by yelling “Shut up, Nep!!”

B-Manajerk roared once again into the sky, shaking his head like an enraged bull, and rushed at Blanc, who barely managed to jump out of the way. They all rushed in with everything they had. Neptune tried turning into her jet form and encircling the battlefield, unloading her guns into the large new target. Blanc ran in with her hammer, swinging wildly and causing small ice explosions on the areas of impact. Noire slashed away, jumped into the air screaming, and lunged back down with a fiery slash attack. Vert tried summoning a giant spear and telekinetically hurling it into her target, an attack that he effortlessly blocked with one hand. Uzume ran in and hit everywhere she could, each punch counting for several hits through her powers helping her out. Vert tried again, this time summoning multiple spears. None of these attacks did anything to their opponent, who surprised them by scooping them all up and tossing them into Neptune, laughing all the while.

The girls found themselves in a pile of arms and legs on the ground. Skysoar swooped about laughing at everything going on. “Gwah hah hah! It’s useless!! His golden armor is invulnerable to any damage, and his new physiology makes him resistant to all of your elemental attacks! B-Manajerk! I’m going to check on my other beautiful creations and be right back! Have fun with your new toys!” Neptune and Uzume glanced up at their opponent, who grew larger and larger while roaring all the while.

+++

Not much more than a few hundred yards away, down Third Avenue, the Power Rangers found that they were faced with similar problems. Each of the Rangers was fighting as hard as they could, but the sheer numbers of Jerkops were starting to wear them down. The Red Ranger grunted as he was kneed in the chest before grabbing the leg of the Jerkop who hit him and tossing him over his shoulder. “You never could fight fair, could you, Baggett?!”

The Jerkop in grey and red jumped atop a car and pointed dramatically at his opponent. “Of course not, old friend! Villains and criminals don’t fight fair, and neither should I!”

“How many times- urgh!- do we- hiya!- have- grah!- to tell you?!” The Blue Ranger cried out. “We’re not criminals!”

Baggett stood back up and crossed his arms. “Hmph! Didn’t you hear, Tony? Sanctuary Cities break the law!”

The Yellow Ranger managed to floor four Jerkops in a single twisting motion in midair. “If this city wasn’t- grah!- then I wouldn’t be here, Baggett!”

“I know.”

“This creep!” The Pink Ranger yelled out and attempted a flying roundhouse kick on Baggett, but he was simply too fast and threw her over his shoulder, avoiding the attack completely.

“Silvia!” the Green Ranger called out as he saw his friend tossed aside. “That does it! This creep needs to die!”

“Why’d you give the boy my suit?”

The Rangers didn’t answer. Instead, they pushed back the Jerkops and all gathered together to take a ready stance. The Red Ranger turned his head at the others. “Be careful, everyone! Baggett’s a tough one!”

Baggett held out his hand theatrically. “Allow me to show you one of my new toys, courtesy of Doctor Skysoar!” He held out one of his fingers and pressed it to his temple, causing the Jerkops to all perk up. The Green Ranger looked around at them, clearly uneasy. “Uh, what’re they doing?”

“JERKOP SWARM!!” On command, the Jerkops clumped together, almost as if they were a bunch of humanoid magnets. They continued to group together until they formed around Baggett, lifting him into the air and using their collective bodies to form a dozen very large arms.

The Rangers eyed what was happening apprehensively. “Uh-oh,” The Blue Ranger muttered. “This is bad, guys,” The Pink Ranger chimed in. “Gee, you think?” The Green Ranger replied, attempting to stay tough by being snarky.

“JERKOP PUNCH!!” Baggett yelled as one of the arms, now the size of a tanker truck, slammed into the ground the Rangers were just a second ago. “JERKOP KATA!!” he yelled as he continued the assault, launching punches in a way very similar to how he would’ve fought on his own.

Each Ranger managed to dodge, albeit barely, but The Yellow Ranger caught her leg on one of the punches in midair, spinning about and yelling as she flew into a nearby café. Baggett laughed, now using every voice of the Jerkops to amplify his own. “JERKOP….!!” He yelled as he cupped the hands together into pairs.

The Red Ranger had a pretty bad feeling about what was coming. “Everyone run!” And it was a good thing they did, because Baggett finished preparing his attack by them. “…BALL!!” The fists broke off as large boulders built from men, which chased down the Rangers throughout the streets under their own power. “Split up!” They all did, and the men-boulders all split up as well, one for each remaining Ranger, decimating whatever cars or combatants they came across.

Baggett laughed and hoisted himself up more with his new bodily extensions. “THIS IS YOUR END, RANGERS!!” he called out as he pursued The Red Ranger.

+++

Meanwhile, Silvana and Son-Chu found themselves pushed back Downtown, where they faced off against a mechanical Manajerk the size of Son-Chu himself, the two robots trading blows ferociously. Silvana had since transformed into a European dragon, and was doing everything she could to keep the pressure on. She reared up onto her hind legs and roared at her opponent, before being knocked back and winded from a concussive blast from the cyborg’s palms. The head floating in a jar atop the robot cackled loudly, the bubbles of the preservation fluid audible even from the ground.

Simonla popped out of the ground, flipping over and knocking out several hapless Jerkops, not noticing that they were wandering listlessly down the road. “Hangin’ in there, partner?!” she called up to the panting dragon. Silvana pushed herself up and growled in reply. “’Atta girl, Silvana! Let’s go get ‘em!”

The two girls yelled as they joined the fight with Son-Chu. The robot, which had the letters “W” and “M” on either of its shoulders, glanced down at Simonla before getting knocked around by a particularly nasty right hook from Son-Chu. W-M took a moment to recover, during which his head swirled around, making him dizzy. After everything settled down for him, however, he readjusted his head and chuckled. “I’M DISAPPOINTED, HEROES. I WOULD HAVE THOUGHT MORE FORCES WOULD’VE BEEN DEEMED NECESSARY FOR DR. SKYSOAR’S GREATEST CREATION.”

Simonla continued to rush her opponent. “We’re more than enough to deal with the likes of you!!” She yelled out and drilled the robot’s foot. But to no avail. To her surprise, she didn’t even scratch it. “What in…?” Then she got a better look at it and gasped. “Simitanium!” This was the same material that her own skeleton was made from! Before she could say anything else, W-M twitched his ankle and kicked her away and through several buildings.

Silvana noticed this blow on her friend and roared in anger. She blasted the Manajerk with her fire breath as the Transformer continued to pummel him, but it was no use. The cyborg just continued to laugh as he traded blows with both of his opponents. The titans continued to stomp around the park, kicking up everything they could to try to get the others to lose ground, which didn’t exactly work. W-M eventually started kicking large balls of compressed Jerkops into Son-Chu’s face, getting in a few blows each time he did so. A collection of voices from the distance cried “DAMNIT, W-M, I WAS USING THEM!!” The slurry of Jerkops somehow all managed to stand up and wander over somewhere around the corner. Moments later, as they continued fighting, these titans didn’t even notice that they almost pulverized the Red Ranger, who leapt from building top to building top to try and escape the Jerkop Ball chasing him.

W-M pulled back for a bit and grinned smugly. “THIS IS REALLY THE BEST YOU CAN DO, ISN’T IT? ISN’T THERE SOMEONE THAT CAN HELP YOU OUT, MAKE THIS MORE FUN-?” He was cut off by a building falling on top of him. Son-Chu and Silvana looked over to where the building fell from and saw Simonla whooping and hollering at a small crater where the building used to stand. As the dust began to settle, W-M marched out from under the wreckage, looking more happy than damaged. “OKAY, THAT MIGHT MAKE THIS INTERESTING.”

+++

Blake ducked under another extending punch from his opponent, who continued to bend and contort his arms and legs in seemingly random configurations. All the while, this human combatant continued to yowl a continuous war cry at him, as if he had nothing to lose from going all-out here. The mechanical limbs continued to stretch and bend, creaking and croaking as if made from extendable metal and plastic. Blake ran about, jumped off of the arms and legs as best he could, rolling and ducking as he went. The damage this maniac was doing was insane!

He weaved in closer and closer, trying to find the opening he needed. He rolled along the man’s arm for a moment, propelling himself into the air, and he saw it. The Manajerk noticed this too, but smirked. Blake could hear Angelica call out “Look out, Blake!” before he got smacked out of the air and through two buildings. He yelled out. Everything hurt.

But then Angelica flew in and used her Catholic healing spell, or whatever it was, closing his wounds and easing the pain. “Thanks,” Blake mumbled as he pulled himself from the wall.

“Blake, I think I have a plan-“

“No, you stay back and keep up the healing.”

“But-“

“If that Manajerk gets one good hit on you, you’re down for the count. Don’t try to jump in and help,” he warned as he activated his rocket shoes and rushed at the Manajerk, the one he remembered to be named “Merried Seinor Comic”, or something to that effect. Merried retracted his limbs and held out his hands, readying himself for the impact, and managed to hold Blake back, causing them both to push at the other with all their might as they grappled.

Merried flashed a mischievous, toothy grin. “Always wanted t’crush yer head, Blachu!”

“Don’t call me that!”

“’Cuz if I can, I can do it t’ the yellow one! And maybe move in on your girl. Heh?” Merried licked his lips.

Blake roared as he suddenly relented so he can toss the mechanical man over his shoulder. As the lanky Manajerk pirouetted through the air, however, he used this momentum to slice everything around him in a singular cyclonic motion, barely missing Angelica, who was hovering not too far from the fight. “Angelica, I said stay back!”

“You’re going to need healing, Blake!”

“I’m doing fine- ARGH!” Blake flew back from a sudden blow to the face and felt half his teeth fly from his face, only for them to miraculously reappear. Merried Seinor Comic laughed as he launched himself forward as if his legs were large springs. The two proceeded to wrestle on the ground, kicking up dirt as they did so.

Angelica looked up, startled as a maniacal laugh erupted from not too far from her. It was Skysoar. “Ah,” he called out as he swooped in from around the street corner. “It seems my new and improved Manajerks are exceeding my expectations!”

Angelica narrowed her eyes. “Skysoar…” She coated her wings with a metallic aura and proceeded to divebomb towards him. Underneath her, however, Merried broke away from his scuffle and performed a one-handed handstand. “Not so fast, Missy!” he called out as he shot out his other hand, intercepting her and crushing several of her ribs as she cried out in pain, flying through three office buildings from the impact.

Blake noticed this and froze up. “Angelica!” He hated to think what Punchy would say if he were to find out about this. He overclocked his shoes and rushed over to where she landed and found her lying limply on the street. “Hey, wake up! C’mon!” He shook her, managing to his relief to wake her up.

“Ughhh… Blake… Did you get him?”

“Not yet. I told you to stay back!”

Angelica grimaced and held her side. “I’ll be fine. Just… Just need to heal.”

“You don’t have-“ A loud crash interrupted Blake as Merried stood back upright, having bounded over to them once again for more combat.

+++

Rosechu examined the tunnel the rest of the family found themselves in. If Christine was right about this, then Metal and Sonichu would fly in through the tunnel very soon. Cera backed the last eighteen wheeler into place, completely blocking the road through. “Mom, he can still just fly over, though.”

Christine looked at her mother with deep concern in her eyes. “What’re we doing about that, Mom?”

“I’m throwing that truck into them.”

Both the girls were taken aback by this. “But,” Cera interjected, “won’t that hit Dad too?”

“He’ll be fine. See Robee yet?” The yellow Rosechu appeared beside her, kicking up a small windstorm as she did so. “They’re coming, get ready!”

Rosechu barely had time to jump get into position when the sounds of jet engines cascaded throughout the tunnel. Without even taking the time to think, she forced her arm muscles to bulge a sudden burst of power, easily flipping the truck into the air. However, to their surprise, Metal Sonichu simply punched a hole through the side of the airborne vehicle through sheer momentum, completely ignoring this useless obstacle. The merciless robot landed several yards away and bashed his helpless captive into the side of every vehicle he could as he stomped along.

Robee watched with a tear forming in her eye, noticing the cuts and bruises on her dad’s head. She ran at the robot. “Let go of my Dad!” The robot responded to this sudden attack by taking flight, causing the young hedgehog to miss, and spat a laser from his chest, the tunnel now sliced in half and expelling cars into the air like blood from an artery. The hedgehogs barely managed to jump from car to car and land on the ground in ways that, while still painful, didn’t kill them. They all panted and watched as the robot flew off with Sonichu, who yelled something they couldn’t understand.

Rosechu gingerly stood back up, helping her daughters to do the same. “Any other ideas, kids?”

“You mean you don’t have any more?”

“Um…”

“What if we forced him into the river?”

“He’s too fast for us. We need something else, sis.”

“Oh! How about the crane over at-?” Christine found herself cut off by a loud metallic crackle as they looked up to find the gigantic W-M-Manajerk uprooting the crane to smack Silvana as he held Son-Chu in a headlock. “Oh, no!”

Robee followed the robot with her gaze, trying desperately to think of a plan. Metal Sonichu buzzed around W-M-Manajerk’s head, choking her father until he almost turned blue. She had to act. She thought back to something her father told her about acting on instinct, so she did. She ran up the side of a building, barely even noticing the static electricity building underneath her feet or across her body. She didn’t notice the giants’ struggle narrowly missing her several times as she scaled the side of the building. She didn’t even notice that she almost bowled over the Red Ranger when she reached the top. She simply continued running until the familiar clouds formed underneath her feet. She leveled out and readjusted herself to find the robot, who now held a limp Sonichu and held its clawed hand up to the sky, ready to land the final blow.

“I SAID, LET… GO… OF… MY… DAD!!” She ran at the robot at full force, creating a Sonic Rainboom upon impact and reducing the robot to smithereens. Robee circled around her father, who seemed to be falling in slow motion, until she slowed down enough to actually grab him.

The Sonic Rainboom wreaked havoc on everything around her, the other Chaotic Combo members barely managing to even remain standing. W-M buckled as the ground beneath him crumbled completely, swallowing him into a large sinkhole. The wind kicked up and rainbow-colored flashes emanated throughout the city block. Son-Chu, Silvana, and Simonla looked down the hole, confused. “Y’all think that did it?” Simonla asked her comrades.

Robee finally caught her dad and came to a halt once she reached the ground at a much more manageable speed. The rest of the family rushed over, ecstatic that Sonichu was still alive.

“Sonichu, darling, wake up!” Rosechu shook her husband, worry still etched in her face.

Sonichu coughed and opened his eyes, his vision very blurry. “What happened?” he murmured, his voice scratchy and weak.

“It was incredible, Dad!” Cera interjected. “Roberta here ran up that building, caught some clouds to run on like that one time, and then rushed at Metal Sonichu fast enough to create a Sonic Rainboom!”

Sonichu coughed again as he wobbled his way up to his feet. “You’re getting better at those, sport.” He chuckled. “You might even be close to getting faster than me.”

“What? Dad, c’mon-“

“Where are the others? We need to help them.”

“Sonichu, dear, you can’t help anyone right now.”

“I’ll be fine,” he murmured as he stumbled forward. “Just need to find Angelica, and I’ll be zappin’…”

+++

Baggett covered his face as the rainbow energy flew by. He didn’t know what that was, but he saw it knock W-M down into a sinkhole. Whatever it was, it was some strong stuff. He had to make sure to avoid whoever did that. A noise from over his shoulder brought him out of his thoughts, and to his surprise it was the Rangers, including The Yellow Ranger, who Baggett noticed was unsteady on her right leg. He smiled at this. “SO YOU’VE ALL MANAGED TO SURVIVE MY JERKOP BALLS!! BRAVO, RANGERS!! BUT YOU WON’T BE LIVING THROUGH THIS!! JERKOP….!!”

The Rangers stood ready as the nearby Jerkops, which now numbered into the thousands, rushed with unnatural speed to gather around their foe, who continued to grow in front of them. “Oh, no!” the Green Ranger cried out. “At this rate, even the Zords won’t be big enough to fight that!” The Blue Ranger yelled out.

Baggett laughed a thunderous laugh, now taking on a semi-serpentine appearance and dwarfing the buildings around them. “THE ONLY GOOD SANCTUARY CITY IS A LEVELLED SANCTUARY CITY!! TIME FOR A GOOD STOMPIN’!!” He glanced over a few city blocks at B-Manajerk, who was still fighting evenly with the Gamindustri Goddesses. “DON’T WORRY, B!! I’LL BE THERE TO GIVE YOU A HAND IN JUST A MINUTE!!” He ignored the Purple Goddess, he was pretty sure she was called Neptune, who yelled out “Hold on, what!!?” Instead of answering, Baggett uprooted a skyscraper and attempted to squish the Rangers with it.

The Rangers tried to run, but couldn’t make it in time. They held their heads in a vain attempt to cover their heads, but quickly realized that the building hadn’t hit them quite yet. Red Ranger looked up and noticed that the pink Transformer, Excelina, was barely holding the building back, despite the intense strain on her robotic face and how much her arms and legs were shaking from the effort. There was no time. “Keep going, everybody!” Red Ranger called out as he rushed the rest of the way.

The Rangers barely managed to get away from the impact site before it came crashing down, Excelina’s hand reaching to the sky from underneath the building. Green Ranger shook his head. “We have to stop him before he destroys the whole city!”

“It’s Zord time, everyone!” The Rangers took their positions and summoned their Zords, five thirty-foot humanoid robots in different colors. The Yellow Ranger struck a pose and called out “Huang-di!” before jumping up high and materializing inside the yellow-colored robot. The Red Ranger struck a pose and called out “Chidi!” before jumping up high and materializing inside the red-colored robot. The Blue Ranger struck a pose and called out “Cangdi!” before jumping up high and materializing inside the blue-colored robot. The Green Ranger struck a pose and called out “Baidi!” before jumping up high and materializing inside the green-colored robot. And finally, The Pink Ranger struck a pose before calling out “Heidi!” before jumping up high and materializing inside the pink-colored robot.

The Rangers all landed snugly in their cockpits before the Yellow Ranger opened up a communication link between the Zords. “Time to come together, everyone!” In sync, the Rangers all crossed their arms and yelled out “Emperor Megazord!” The robots jumped into the air, transforming in different ways all the while, before they all conjoined into one larger Megazord big enough to wield a skyscraper like a polearm.

Baggett turned towards this new opponent and smiled to himself. They’re finally a challenge. The Megazord unsheathed a large sword and rushed at its opponent, who responded to each slash with an outstretched clawed hand deftly catching it before it landed. After thirty seconds of close combat, the monstrous Jerkop grew a tail and jabbed the Megazord before tossing it away and laughing. The Rangers yelled out before they managed to right themselves. The Green Ranger punched the stabilization button before turning to the Red Ranger. “Man, he’s going to be tough!”

“He was our best before he turned evil. We have to give it everything we’ve got. Ready guys?”

The other Rangers turned to him and nodded as one. “Ready!”

“Alright! Celestial Dragon Tooth!” The Megazord’s arm transformed into a giant drill as they rushed the target. With a great crash, they slashed through the Jerkop’s abdomen, nearly ripping him in two. Baggett roared and clutched his side before yelling out angrily and closing the wound as more and more Jerkops joined the conglomerate being, leaving the citizen fighters to look on in awe.

“That didn’t finish him off?!”

“HA-HA-HA-HA!! DOCTOR SKYSOAR, YOU’VE OUTDONE YOURSELF THIS TIME!! HOW DO YOU LIKE SOME OF THIS?!” Just by raising his hands, Baggett created tentacles from the ground large enough to completely encircle the Megazord from many more surrounding Jerkops, preparing to demolish his former comrades.

+++

Still in her dragon form, Silvana looked down at Simonla. I don’t see anything down there, do you?

“Not a lick ‘a movement.” She looked up at Silvana and smiled. “Looks like we won!” She then turned and screamed as a small forest of metal tentacles erupted from the hole. Simonla narrowly avoided getting grabbed by the top of her head, and Silvana managed to keep four of them at bay with her fire breath, but Son-Chu wasn’t so lucky, and yelled out in a metallic scream as close to eighty clawed tentacles latched onto his body, effectively holding him in place.

A moment of struggle later, and the source of these new threats became obvious. W-M’s head slowly lifted from the hole, revealing a levitation device at the base as all of the metal tentacles protruded from a large ring on the bottom. As the disembodied head smiled smugly, several tentacles morphed into buzz saws, lasers, and three-pronged hooks. “DID YOU THINK IT’D BE THAT EASY?” He glanced down, the expression on his face suggesting everything he was doing was casual, and fired eight unbroken laser beams at Simonla.

Simonla narrowly dodged the lasers as if playing Limbo, and yelled out “Shit!” as one of them took off a tuft of her hair. “Just had that done!”

Silvana roared at the Manajerk, but soon roared from pain as he jabbed the dragon several times with spiked tentacles. This was not going well. If Chris can just get through to Graduon…

+++

Bubbles fired off Water Pulse after Water Pulse simply by pointing at her opponent, the heavily-armored Jerkhief, making a show of the effort on her part being virtually nonexistent. She intercepted each of his missiles, knocking them off-course and causing them to explode harmlessly. Beside her, Wild continued throwing Razor Leafs at him, hitting soft spots at his joints. “Where’d Punchy go?” Wild asked out loud. Bubbles didn’t answer, instead opting to blast the Jerkop in the face with some water.

The large man yelled out angrily and looked around. “Damnit, where’s my backup?! You took them, didn’t you, Baggett?!”

“Still have the chance to give up, Jerkhief!” Bubbles offered.

The man growled as his suit powered up, enabling him to rush at the Rosechu. “NEVER!” Before Bubbles could react, she was caught, and the angry Jerkop tossed her into a fifth-story window.

“Bubbles!” Wild called. “Punchy, where are you, man?!”

Jerkhief reached over for Wild now, but suddenly his arm was batted away by a red blur before he got hit in the chest and knocked into a post office. “Okay, I think I have an idea!” Punchy said to announce his presence. “Bubbles! You okay?!”

“Yeah!” she replied, even though Punchy couldn’t see her.

“Great! Wild, you see those traffic lights?”

Wild looked over where he was talking about and saw them, and then he understood. “Got it! How we doin’ this?”

The Jerkhief tore the walls around him apart as he angrily got back to his feet and rushed at the two hedgehogs. “I’M GONNA STUFF YOU ALL UP MY BUTT!!” He seemed like he was going to say something else, but a geyser of water erupted from the manhole underneath him, kicking him up into the air. Wild then quickly followed this up by wrapping his arms in vines and suspending him from the traffic lights. Punchy then finished the plan by lunging at the Jerkop and smashing the metal suit to pieces.

Bubbles jumped down from the window and slowed her fall with a smaller water geyser. “We did it!”

Punchy chuckled. “Nothin’ to it, huh? Let’s find the others.“

+++

Blake picked up the injured Angelica without even thinking. “How dare you injure a woman!”

Merried shrugged, clearly bemused. “War. Time to die, bitches!” He pulled back his arm and swung it at Blake’s face. But Blake was through with his bullshit. He caught the arm mid-flight and tore it straight off the man’s shoulder with one movement.

“Angelica, heal yourself. I’ll deal with him.” Without even waiting for an answer, Blake rushed at the Manajerk, a new fire burning in his eyes, and before the man could yell out in protest, he’d torn off the man’s other arm and both his legs.

Merried knocked his chin on the ground before managing to right himself. “Sunovabitch!” He hopped as he turned to Blake and attempted to bite his ankle. “I’m not done with you!”

Angelica finished her quick healing and nodded at Blake. “Well, that was quick.”

Blake just grunted and turned away. He wanted to find out how Bubbles was doing.

Angelica looked down at the Manajerk and noticed his eyes glowing blue. “Blake!” Blake looked down and noticed this too, before both jumped back. Blake suddenly grimaced as a quarter hit him squarely in the back of the head. “What the?”

+++

Punchy turned to walk away from the fight scene, but then the pieces of the mechanical suit began rattling, as did the nearby cars and every other metallic debris in the area, before they all began to float and whiz around at random. Before any of them could really process what was happening, a nearby car rammed into all of them, knocking the wind out of them.

+++

Blake and Angelica turned and noticed the maelstrom of metal closing in and ran without a second thought. They watched in amazement as Merried Seinor Comic not only grew back his limbs from the debris, but managed to encase himself in a shell of junk that towered over them. He laughed, the sound like that of scraping metal, and launched another punch at them.

Blake somehow managed to catch the fist on instinct, and did everything he could to hold it back. Angelica flew up and tried to hit the new monster with a Steel Wing, but soon found herself stuck to his shoulder, so she had to stop the attack.

Blake yelled out from the effort of holding back the Manajerk. “ANY IDEAS?”

Angelica thought for a second before replying. “Yeah! Keep holding him there!” She flew up to the monster’s face and began a prayer that she was taught as a Rosee. She didn’t think she’d ever have to use it, but if she was ever going to, then now was the time. She prayed to God and Jesus for them to use their power to vanquish this opponent, to lend them the strength to win. As soon as she muttered the last “Amen!” Merried groaned as if heavily weakened.

Blake’s eyes widened in amazement. “That did it, Angelica!” He gave another heave and just as before managed to tear the arm from his opponent. He then proceeded to swing it around and hit Merried in the face with his own hand. He then tossed it aside and leapt into the air, performing a Spin Dash and cutting right through the monster’s chest. Blake stood up and crossed his arms as the exoskeleton fell apart behind him. “Hm. Let’s find the others.”

+++

Neptune yelled out, very frustrated, as she peppered the target with laser fire, of course doing no damage. Of course! The giant ogre of a man laughed and lunged at her, propelled forward by his jetpack, and smashed her yet again with his weapon. Neptune flew backwards in a heap next to the others. “OW!! This is stupid!”

“Anyone have any ideas?” Blanc asked nobody in particular.

“I’ve got one,” Noire chimed in suddenly. “Everyone know how concussions work?”

“Intimately,” Neptune fumed, rubbing her head and finding the eighth lump.

“Follow my lead!” Noire then began her transformation into Next Black, the others all following suit with their respective forms. “Hit him so that he bruises on the inside!”

The girls all roared as they rushed forward. B-Manajerk swung once again at Noire, who managed to zip through his guard and land a nasty slash that erupted with lightning. The man crumpled from this, but not much more than that before Neptune slashed at him herself and gauged the fabric of reality from her strike. Vert then summoned an uncountable amount of spears and pelted him incessantly with a rain of blades. Blanc then finished the combo by firing a freezing shockwave at B-Manajerk, summoning a large laser cannon, and torching him with it.

The girls all landed several feet away as a group and reverted back to their civilian clothing, panting as they eyed the monster cautiously. Uzume prepared her megaphone just in case. The monster groaned, roared in pain, stumbled forward, clenching his kanabo, and inched forward. After three small steps, his breathing heavy, he fell forward, belching a black darkness from his mouth before closing his eyes and hitting the ground.

Neptune couldn’t even celebrate properly. Her arms were heavy, and her head hurt. She panted heavily and managed to shout “Yeah!... Take that…. You… Monster!”

“The day’s saved now, right?” Vert asked as they turned to look at the city. They noticed Baggett and W-M’s tentacles and groaned.

“You’re kidding me! We have to take out more of these guys?!”

“Not me, I’m clocking out.” Blanc threw down her weapon in the middle of the road and began to walk away.

Uzume began looking around. She couldn’t stop now, not when she promised Chris that she’d help.

+++

Naitsirhc landed yet another kick across Chris’ face, knocking her backwards once more. She couldn’t see straight, her eyes have swollen over. Things shouldn’t be ending this way. Magi-Chan, Night Star, and Discord continued their struggle with Graduon, who had since taken a knee to better steady himself against this assault. “My, my,” Discord commented, seemingly disinterested. “You’re a tought nut to crack, aren’t you?!” Night Star and Magi-Chan just continued grunting from the effort of continuing their assault, and Graduon was likewise doing everything he could to hold their attacks back.

“Graduon, you can’t do this!” Chris began.

“I’ll defeat you or die trying, Chandler!”

“No, it’s not that, listen!” She yelled out as Naitsirhc slammed her head into the ground. When he pulled her face from the asphalt once again, she continued. “If you keep following this path, then Kurome will just destroy everything!” Graduon wasn’t listening; he was too preoccupied with his fight. Chris then had an idea. “Guys, stop fighting him!”

Night Star glanced over in confusion. “What?”

“Just do it!” Magi-Chan answered, and the three let down their guard in a way that allowed the beam to fire harmlessly into the sky.

Graduon and Naitsirhc were dumbfounded. Graduon turned on her with a new expression. “What is the meaning of this?”

“I’m telling the truth! Kurome doesn’t want to conquer the world like you, Graduon, she wants it destroyed! She told Blanc this when she tried to destroy her region of Gamindustri.” Graduon stayed silent, so Chris continued. “If you want to conquer the rest of the world, then fine. But help us stop her first. You can’t rule over something that isn’t there.”

Graduon continued to avoid Chris’ gaze, thinking over this new information. Finally, he returned Chris’ gaze and nodded. Chris smiled, but felt something encroach in the back of her mind. “You useless fool,” she muttered in a voice not her own, and she began to yell out in pain as her body contorted and began to levitate. Naitsirhc jumped back in shock. “What the hell?!”

Chris continued to yell, a dark energy emanating from her body. This energy danced about like a flame and began expanding, firing off flares across the city and drawing the attention of all. Uzume gasped as she saw this, clenched her fist and ran at Chris, holding out her hand and creating a bubble of energy around her before jumping in herself. Inside the bubble was another dimension, made entirely from Share Energy and created by her own power. While Chris and Kurome were inside this, then the rest of the world was safe.

The energy continued to surround Chris, beginning to morph her appearance into a dark version of Uzume herself. Behind Chris the energy began to grow a face of some kind. Uzume knew what she had to do. She held out her hand imperatively. “Kurome, you’re coming with me!”

Chris began to contort again, this time the new voice screaming out in protest. “NOOO!!” Uzume continued to absorb her evil half, not even paying any attention as the right side of her face began to scream too. She concentrated hard, and after ten seconds of supreme effort, everything was silent. Chris lay on the ground, not moving for a few seconds, before coughing, groaning, and slowly lifting herself up.

“Uzume…? What-?”

“Kurome tried to take over your body, Chris. But don’t worry. She’s taken care of now. She’s now a part of me, and she won’t be a problem anymore.”

“You’re a lifesaver, Uzume.”

Uzume giggled. There’s something I need, though. Chris, I’m afraid I need to take my powers back.”

“Yeah, no problem.” Without another word, Chris extended her arms in offering as a softer orange energy glowed from her heart and into Uzume. “Let’s get out of here.”

The two girls exited the pocket dimension, which faded behind them. Both sides had stopped fighting and were watching them. Chris turned to Graduon and smiled. “We don’t have to stay enemies, Graduon. For your whole life, you’ve never known love. How about you stay with us, and we show you?”

Naitsirhc shook his head. “How lame would we be-?”

“Very well,” Graduon boomed. “Henceforth, the PVCC forces and the city of CWCville are now allies!”

Everyone from the CWCville side cheered. Uzume hugged Chris. “We did it!”

“We sure did!”

“But, Chris. We have to go back to Gamindustri now. We’ve got a lot of rebuilding to do. Oh! I have an idea.” Uzume reached into her pocket and handed Chris a holographic card. “If you ever need our help, let us know, okay?”

“Thanks for everything.”

Uzume then smiled and waved as she turned to leave with the other Goddesses. A man in armor and a military-grade gas mask approached Chris with several magical girls behind him. “Good work, Chandler,” the man began in an electronically-augmented voice. He looked around at the heavily damaged city. “Well, you’ve managed to minimize damage, at least.”

“It was a war hard-fought, John. But now we’ve got new friends,” Chris explained as she looked around at people from both sides of the war helping each other tend to their wounded.

John looked around, his expression understandably unreadable. “Mazel tov,” he said finally. “There are still some cloaker agents that Kurome had set up, so we’ll need to deal with those.”

“Perhaps I could be of some assistance, Mr. Yamada,” Graduon interjected from over Chris’ shoulder.

“That’d be great,” Yamada replied, almost as if distracted. “But I need to bring something… else to your attention…”

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