#I cried and drove to THREE other gas stations before I took a chance on this one

[babyratphat]

Think I may have fallen in love w the one man working at the gas station who had a 15$ iPhone charger at 11:49pm at night

[everlarkficexchange]

Hanging in the Balance

Written by: @ameliaodair

Prompt #29:  I want to request a fic where Katniss and Peeta almost lose their first child and it makes their love and relationship even stronger.  [submitted by anonymous]

The prompt pretty much says it all.  On their way to visit Katniss’s mother, Katniss, Peeta, and their daughter fight for their lives.  When Peeta wakes from the devastating crash, his life— and Katniss’s are forever changed as their sweet, baby girl has the fight of her life, with her life hanging in the balance.

Thanks to the amazing @taylerwrites for her magical beta skills!

Rated T for difficult situations

Warnings: (almost) losing a child

Hanging in the Balance

“How long has it been since the last time we saw your mother?” Keeping his eyes focused on the road and his hands firmly gripped on the steering wheel, Peeta glanced over to Katniss, his beautiful wife of six years.

“I don’t know, maybe …  Actually, I think the last time we saw her was just after Prim was born; oh my god, I can’t believe it’s been that long.  Oh, Peeta, did you rem—” Katniss tensed up, thinking they had forgotten an important item on their checklist.

“Calm down, Katniss. Trust me,” Peeta gave his wife a charming, yet reassuring smile and reached for her hand. “I went over the list three times before we even left the house, and then once more after loading the car up.  We didn’t forget a single thing.  And if, by chance, there is something we forgot, I’m sure it can be duplicated at the nearest department store.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Katniss murmured, catching a glimpse of the back of their daughter’s head before slowly relaxing into the passenger seat next to her husband.

“In fact, I’m almost certain we brought enough stuff with us to stay for a year,” Peeta gently joked with his wife, in hopes of easing her nerves.  He knew the real reason for Katniss’s high-strung demeanor, and her incessant need to be in complete control.  She had lost her younger sister when she was just a little girl and it nearly broke her.  Peeta still wasn’t convinced she had recovered from that loss. 

Katniss and Peeta were childhood sweethearts.  While Peeta knew from the moment he entered his kindergarten classroom that he was destined to be with the beautiful girl with the stunning grey eyes,  raven-colored braids down either side of her face, and a voice that could bring a stuttering, toothpaste-stained shirt little boy to his knees, it took Katniss a little longer.  It required some convincing, but Peeta was persistent and finally, at seven-years-old, Katniss accepted his friendship-invitation.  And the lovesick fool that Peeta was decided he would take what he could get.  So, for years, they were friends— best friends. 

Peeta was there the day Katniss’s sister, Prim, died.  He had sat next to Katniss, gripping her hand like a lifeline while they stood vigil by Prim’s bedside, and watched as she took her final breaths.  And it broke him too, but not like Katniss.  She was devastated beyond belief— for so long.  And for so many years after that devastating tragedy, Katniss vowed to never have children … she could not bear to love another person with so much of her heart, only to have them ripped from her life.  They dated for five years before she finally agreed to marry him.  And then it was another four years before she agreed, and quite apprehensively, to try for a family.

“I think I’m going to get off at the next stop for some gas and we can stretch our legs.  It’ll be nighttime soon and I’d rather you guys not wander around in the dark in some backwoods city I don’t know.”

“You worry too much, Peeta,” Katniss chided, taking Peeta’s hand and entwining their fingers.  She brought their conjoined hands up to her lips and placed a kiss against the crest of his knuckles.  That’s why they were perfect together— because they balanced each other out.  When one was overcome with fear and anxiety, the other was always there to level the other one out.

Peeta got off at the next exit and followed the signs to the nearest gas station, which was less than a mile away.

“Don’t go to the Shell, go to SHEETZ,” Katniss pleaded with her husband when she saw the direction he was headed.

“Why?  Shell has better gas.”

“SHEETZ has cleaner bathrooms.  Please baby,” Katniss whined, knowing the use of the pet name, in addition to giving him the wide, puppy-dog-eyes would be enough to melt his hesitation.

“Okay,” he conceded, “Anything for my girls,” he gave Katniss’s hand another squeeze as he stopped at the four-way intersection and then gently accelerated on the gas when he saw the coast was clear.  Ever since their daughter, Prim was born, Peeta drove like an old man instead of a man in his late twenties— precious cargo and all.

“PEETA!!!!!” Katniss screamed when a set of headlights came barreling straight for them.

    “Mr. Mellark?  Mr. Mellark, can you hear me?” Peeta opened his eyes and tried to sit up.  “Mr. Mellark, how many fingers am I holding up?” The uniformed man asked him as he waved his fingers in front of his face and shined a flashlight into his eyes.

“Three.  Where’s my wife?  Where is Prim?” Peeta responded, shoving the medic’s hand out of his face as he attempted to sit up again.  “Where am I?” Peeta demanded, turning his head from side to side, surveying the small space he was in and called for his wife, “Katniss?” But she wasn’t anywhere in sight; as far as he could see, he was alone in the ambulance with these three strangers— medics.

“Sir, please calm down.  You were in an accident.  My name is Pollux and I am a paramedic.  You have sustained some rather severe injuries.  We are rushing you and your family to the nearest hospital.”

Adrenaline flooded Peeta’s veins, his heart accelerated until he was fuming, “WHERE is my wife and my daughter?  Where are they?  Are they okay? Please, you have to tell me,” he demanded, oblivious to the steadily increasing beeping in the background and needing some answers before his anxiety consumed him.

“They were air-lifted from the scene of the accident; we should be arriving at the hospital any moment now.  We’ll know more upon arrival,” Pollux offered sympathetically and craned his neck to his shoulder to speak into the microphone attached to his uniform, “Hey Castor, what’s our ETA?”

Peeta didn’t realize there was already an IV connected into his arm, or that the paramedic injected something into it, which was the reason everything went black.

2 days later:

“Well!  There are those marvelous blue eyes I have been hearing about!  Good morning Mr. Mellark, my name is Dr. Trinket.”

When Peeta opened his eyes, everything was fuzzy at first.  He blinked a few times until his vision slowly adjusted, and this Dr. Trinket came into view.  She was a beautiful doctor, there was no denying that.  Probably in her mid to late thirties with short, curly, blonde hair— so blonde it almost looked pink … and she was in the traditional hospital scrubs you normally see doctors wearing.  

  ‘Seriously, bright pink scrubs?’ Peeta thought, wondering if he could go blind just by looking at her for too long.

“Can you tell me your name and date of birth?” Dr. Trinket asked him, shining a light into his eyes.  “Good, good.  Pupils are equal and reactive.”

Peeta recited his name and birthday for Dr. Trinket, and she nodded, satisfied with his response.  “Do you know where you are?”  Dr. Trinket asked, checking his reflexes.

“Um … a hospital?” Peeta thought that seemed obvious.

“And do you recall the circumstances that brought you here?”

Peeta closed his eyes and tried to pull the memory from his mind, only to come up empty.

“Mr. Mellark, you were in an accident,” Dr. Trinket began filling in the blanks for him, “You suffered a slight concussion in addition to a hairline fracture to your femur.  After assessment upon your arrival to Tribute Center Regional Medical Facilities, you were rushed into surgery to repair your injuries.  You have a splint on your leg and should heal just fine.  I foresee a speedy recovery as long as you stay off your legs.  Do you have any questions for me?”

Flashes came sputtering back, hitting the back of  his eyelids like one of those slow, stop-motion picture films from Dr. Trinket’s words. “M-my w-wife and daughter—” Peeta croaked, his voice still dry and hoarse from days of not using it.

“Nurse, nurse, can we please get Mr. Mellark some form of oral hydration to quench his thirst?” Dr. Trinket pressed the call button on the remote by his bed and spoke into the intercom, “I bet you are just parched, aren’t you Mr. Mellark?” As upbeat and gregarious as the lovely Dr. Trinket appeared to be, he was not fooled by her deflection.

Before he had the opportunity to ask about his family again, a woman with kind eyes entered the room, carrying a styrofoam pitcher of water, a small tower of cups, and a handful of straws.  She poured Peeta a cup of water and offered it to him.

“Thank you,” Peeta smiled at the woman, who returned his smile, and then disappeared from the room just as quickly as she entered.

Peeta took a long sip of water through the straw and wasn’t sure anything had ever tasted so good in his life.  But then he met Dr. Trinket’s eyes and asked the question that was looming over them once again, “My wife?  My daughter?  K-Katniss and Primrose Mellark?”

Dr. Trinket’s face fell, and then she looked at him with so much pity, which only compelled Peeta to immediately jump to conclusions.

“No, no, they can’t be!” He cried, covering his face with his hands.

“Oh, no!  No, no, my apologies Mr. Mellark.  Your wife currently rests in a medically induced coma.  She had some minor swelling on her brain, so the doctors felt it was necessary to allow her body adequate time to heal.  She should be waking at any moment and her prognosis is optimistic!”

Peeta took another sip of water and braced himself for what came next, “And P-Primrose, m-my daughter?” Peeta faltered, afraid of her response.  She was barely two years old; if he and Katniss were injured this badly, what happened to her?  She was so tiny, she was—

“Your daughter’s—”

“Prim,” Peeta insisted.  If his daughter’s condition was as critical as he feared, he would not allow the staff in this hospital to treat her as another ‘number’.  He’d heard of horror stories and patients being neglected because of arrogant doctors.  No, they would call her by her name.

“My apologies; Prim is in the pediatric intensive care unit.  I do not know much about her case, but your daughter’s doctor will stop by shortly with an update on her status.  I shall page him now to inform him that you are finally conscious.  His name is Dr. Abernathy.”

“Okay,” Peeta nodded.

“I must warn you Mr. Mellark, Dr. Abernathy may come off a bit abrasive, his bedside manner needs much work, but—"

“Is he good?  Will he save my baby?” Peeta implored; he could care less about the doctor’s bedside manner, all he cared about was if the man was good at his job.  All he cared about was if he could save his baby girl.

“I may be a bit bias … but yes.  He is the best.  It is a fact that he is a world-renowned critical care pediatric surgeon.  You will not find a more qualified physician in all of Panem.”

“O-okay, that’s good,” Peeta stuttered, feeling more optimistic as Dr. Trinket walked toward the door.

  “Um … Dr. Trinket, if you don’t mind me asking, but why are you biased towards this doctor?”

“He is my husband,” Dr. Trinket answered proudly. “Oh, and please call me Effie, ‘Doctor Trinket’ is my mother … and besides, it makes me sound so old!”

  “Mr. Mellark, I’m Haymitch,” a man with scruffy blonde hair covering his eyes strutted into the room.  He had a white coat just like the other doctors Peeta had seen cruising the hallways, but this man looked far from any doctor he had ever met.  Sure, he had the arrogance the other doctors seemed to have in spades, but he did not share the chiseled and clean-shaven faces he had witnessed on some of the other medical staff.  He looked up, and above the breast pocket of this man’s jacket, the name, Dr. H. Abernathy, was inscribed in elegant script onto his coat.

So, this was Dr. Abernathy, Peeta thought.  “It’s— it’s Peeta.  Y-you have news about my daughter?”

“Yes, Primrose Ellis Mellark, twenty-six-month female,” Haymitch began, flipping through his notes.  Then he dragged a chair across the room, its legs scraping against the floor, finally planting it next to Peeta’s bed before he took a seat in it— backwards.  Dr. Abernathy— Haymitch put his notes away and crossed his arms over the back of the chair to look Peeta in the eye.

Yes, this was unlike any doctor I’ve ever come across before, Peeta thought to himself, but not necessarily in a bad way.

“Mr. Mellark, Peeta, I ain’t gonna lie to ya, yer little girl is in pretty bad shape.  Thankfully, she was properly strapped in the car seat, and rear-facing at that— which is what will probably save her life.  Most parents don’t follow the PAP guidelines—”

  “I’m sorry, what is PAP?”

  “Oh, my bad— I mean … sorry.  It’s the Panem Academy of Pediatrics— you know, the guidelines— uh, the riff-raff of all the do’s and don'ts pertaining to childcare and whatnot.  Anyhow, most parents turn their kids around before it’s time so they can see them … but uh— yeah— she’s beat up pretty bad, we’ve removed all the shards of glass from her skin and stitched up all the residual lacerations.” Peeta cringed at the doctor’s extensive description of his daughter.  “She suffered some internal damage to her organs—”

“When c-can I see her?” Peeta stammered, interrupting the doctor and fighting back tears that were threatening to spill over.

“Soon.  I’ll have someone page your nurse once she’s stabilized, and then we’ll get someone to bring ya up there.  Ya got any other questions?” Haymitch asked Peeta, squirming to get out of the chair.

“Has … has anyone told Katniss— my wife?”  Peeta warily asked the doctor.  Part of him was hoping that Haymitch had already told her, while deep inside he knew it had to be him to deliver this crushing blow.

“No, not yet.  I have to round on a few patients and then I’ll be stoppin’ by her room.”

Peeta gulped, “Would it—”

“Sure kid, it’s all yours.  It’ll save me the trouble of havin’ to do it,“ Haymitch gruffed.

Geez, Dr. Trinket wasn’t kidding about his bedside manner, Peeta silently ruminated, all the while, wondering how in the world those two were married.

  “Katniss? Katniss, baby, can you hear me?” One of the nurses hunted down a wheelchair and rolled Peeta into Katniss’s room.  The sight of her broke his heart.  She was lying there, unconscious and connected to an assortment of tubes and wires.  As he sat by Katniss’s side, he found comfort in the steady beep, beep of her heart monitor, which he hoped was a good sign.  He reached for her hand, holding it in his own, and closed his eyes, silently willing her to wake up.

I … I can’t do this alone; please Katniss, please wake up, with a quivering lip, he silently pleaded to her.

“Shouldn’t she be awake by now?” Peeta looked up and asked the nurse.

“I’m so sorry Mr. Mellark, but it isn’t an exact science.  Patients can wake up anywhere between a few hours, to a few days once they’re weaned off the medication.”  Katniss’ nurse, Annie informed him with a sympathetic smile.

“It’s okay, I understand.” Although Peeta was frustrated, he knew it wasn’t Annie’s fault and forced a smile to his lips.

Peeta wasn’t sure how much time had passed since he first arrived in Katniss’s room.  He had already twice refused to return to his own room; he didn’t care about himself.  All they wanted him to do in his room was rest, and he was perfectly capable of doing that from the comfort of his wife’s room, if not better.  If he went back to his room all he would do is worry; at least in Katniss’s room, which was just across the hall, he could attempt getting a little rest.

“Mr. Mellark?” Annie slowly crept into the room.  Peeta had fallen asleep in the chair next to Katniss’s bed, the cramp in his neck proof of the poor position he was in.

He jerked up when he heard Annie’s voice. “I know you don’t want to leave her side, but Doctor— I mean Haymitch just called and said we could bring you up to see your daughter.  Would you like to—”

Peeta jolted up from his chair, forgetting about the injury to his leg for a moment until the pain shot up his spine.

“Oh no, no, no, I will get your wheelchair and take you up there.  You wouldn’t make it to the elevators,” Annie smiled.

Annie rolled his wheelchair in from outside the room and wheeled Peeta to the PICU floor.

“So, does everyone call Dr. Abernathy by his first name?” Peeta tried to fill the uncomfortable silence with small talk.

Annie chuckled from behind him. “Yeah.  He and Dr. Trinket— Effie; they don’t like formalities.  They claim it helps eliminate the doctor/patient barrier; something about trust and bonding.” Peeta nodded and thought, ‘Yeah, I guess that makes sense.’

“Okay, I guess … I can see that.  Have you worked here long?  Do you know … is he a good doctor?” Peeta hoped he wasn’t being too intrusive, he just needed to know if Haymitch was as qualified to care for his daughter as Effie claimed.

“Haymitch?  Oh, yes … he’s the best.  If it were my son lying in a hospital bed— no matter where in the world I was, I would want Haymitch as his doctor.  Heck, I would gladly pay him whatever he wanted and have him flown to whatever corner of the world I was in.”

“Wow, that’s … impressive.  So, you have a son?”

“Yes, Nick is four years old,” Annie stopped and flipped her name badge over, stretching it out in front of Peeta’s line of sight to reveal a picture of a little boy with the greenest eyes, and wavy, sun kissed golden-blonde hair.

“He’s adorable … he’s going to be a heartbreaker when he’s older,” Peeta smiled, his heart aching to hold his own daughter.

“Thank you.  His name is Finnick— well, Finnick Junior, after his father, but we just call him Nick.  Oh, look!  We’re here!”

Annie wheeled him into the PICU and spoke with one of the nurses who helped him to the “Scrub Room.”  ‘Johanna’ first demonstrated the process of “scrubbing down,” which meant vigorously washing your hands with a medical scrub brush that contained a special, hospital-grade antiseptic soap.  When it was his turn, Peeta “scrubbed” for exactly three minutes while Johanna stood over him, observing with her stopwatch in hand throughout the entire process.  On the one hand, it made him feel self-conscious, but on the other hand, he was glad the staff was this precise.  Then she checked his temperature, because, under no circumstances was anyone permitted to enter the unit with a temperature above 100.3.  The last step was donning a sterile gown, gloves, and a facial mask before finally being allowed to see his daughter.

  “So, if someone leaves and comes right back just a few minutes later, they have to do this all over again?” Peeta asked Johanna.

  “Every single time—no exceptions.  Hospital policy—or, well, Haymitch’s policy,” Johanna chuckled.

Prim looked so tiny in the incubator she was lying in, it reminded him of the ones you see premature babies in.  It brought back memories of the day Katniss gave birth to their daughter, Peeta, silently thanking the heavens that his and Katniss’s newborn baby was full-term and healthy.  He just hoped luck was on their side this time, too.

Peeta’s entire body quivered with trepidation when his eyes landed on his daughter.  Prim was covered in stitches— they stretched across her entire body; on her arms, legs, her chest, and covered a majority of her face and head.  It looked like they even had to shave a portion of her hair to place some of the stitches.  She had IVs inserted in both her arms, a tube down her throat, and a tiny nasal cannula blowing oxygen into her nostrils.  Peeta’s eyes began to sting from the sight of his beautiful Primrose, and the closer he inched toward her, the harder his eyes stung.  Until finally, the dam broke, and the tears began pouring from his eyes, followed by uncontrollable sobs escaping his entire body.

“Oh, Primmie baby, I am so sorry.  Daddy is so sorry; do you hear me?” Peeta cried to his little girl.

“Is she … will she make it?  Do you think— can she— will she survive this?” Peeta looked up, meeting the nurse’s eyes, and wiping his face with the back of his sleeve.

“I honestly cannot give you a definitive answer Mr. Mellark.  These little ones tend to have a mind of their own.  Right now, it’s kind of touch and go.  I would say that if she makes it through the night, then she’s got a standing chance.  But I’m going to tell you something, I’ve seen babies much worse than your daughter bounce right back, but— on the flip side, I’ve seen others with barely any injuries—” Her words trailed off, hesitant to complete her sentence, but Peeta knew what she meant.

They didn’t make it.  Peeta sucked in a breath, mustering all the courage he had to be strong for his daughter.  What would he do if Prim di— if she … he couldn’t even think the word without his chest feeling as if thousand-pound bricks were smothering him.

“Why is that? What makes the difference?” He forced the words out.  If Prim was to survive this, he needed to know.

“I think … Now, this is just my opinion, but I truly believe it depends on how hard they’re willing to fight.  Their will, their drive to live.  Right now, I would say, and perhaps this does nothing to ease your mind, but … hope and pray.  As a veteran PICU nurse, I truly believe in the power of prayer.  Talk to your daughter and let her know that you are waiting for her; that you are counting on her to survive this.” Peeta nodded, understanding what the nurse meant.  “Give that beautiful little girl something to fight for,” Prim’s nurse finished with a kind smile.

“What was your name again?  I’m sorry, I didn’t catch it, and how long will you be Prim’s nurse?”

“My name is Portia Rose, and I’ll be here all night,” the kind nurse replied, with an equally as kind smile.  Peeta wondered if it was fate that brought them together.  His daughter, named after Katniss’s lost sister, and this ‘Portia Rose,’ their names having an uncanny similarity.

  “Peeta, Peeta what happened?” Katniss croaked, knowing something was wrong the moment her eyes opened and her husband’s tear-streaked face came into focus.

“Katniss, there was an accident.  What is the last thing you remember?”

“I remember, we were going to the gas station … you wanted to stop before it got dark.  We … we were on our way to see Mom … and then … and then … Peeta, what happened?  Where is Prim?” Katniss asked, pushing herself up with her hands to straighten her position in the bed.

Water pooled in Peeta’s eyes and he bit down on the inside of his cheek to stop the flow of tears.  He had to be strong for Katniss, he couldn’t show weakness, not yet.  Not now. 

  Peeta poured Katniss a cup of water and handed it to her. “Here sweetie, I bet you’re thirsty.”

Katniss took the cup and pulled the water into her mouth, “Peeta, you’re scaring me.  W-what happened?”

“Katniss, we were in an accident; w-we were hit head-on by a drunk driver.”

Katniss felt the heat spread through her face, and then slowly, it radiated to the tips of her fingers and toes.  “And Prim?” She asked hesitantly, suddenly feeling nauseous and dizzy.

“She’s okay for right now.  The doctors are taking really good care of her.”

“Okay, that’s good.  That’s really good,” Katniss smiled.  Peeta could see the tears welling up in her eyes and knew she was biting down on the inside of her cheek to quell her tears as she nodded.  He instantly knew that something wasn’t right; this was the opposite of how Katniss should have reacted.  His Katniss would be screaming, throwing a fit— demanding to get out of the hospital bed, adamant to see her daughter.  But this was more like … like denial.  He saw this once before … when her father died.  Granted, that was years and years ago when they were barely teenagers.

Peeta observed Katniss for a few hours, occasionally leaving to check on his daughter.  He knew the staff in the PICU were taking exceptional care of his daughter, and something told him his wife needed him more.  After his most recent visit to Prim in the PICU, he made sure that Portia knew how to reach him in case … in case she needed him.

When Katniss was given “out of bed” privileges, she walked around the room, cheerful and full of smiles as she chatted jubilantly with her mother on the phone.  She acted as if their daughter’s life wasn’t hanging in the balance just a few floors above them.

“Mom’s on her way Peeta, she should be here tomorrow,” Katniss informed Peeta after placing her phone on the bedside table.

Concerned for his wife’s emotional stability, Peeta spoke with one of Katniss’ nurses to find out when he could take her to their daughter.

“I don’t see why it should be a problem, she does seem to be basking in the river of ‘De Nile’,” Dr. Cinna noted, trying to lighten the mood.  “Perhaps seeing Primrose with her own eyes will open her mind to the truth,” Peeta smiled, shaking Dr. Cinna’s hand; he was the first one to refer to their daughter by her name unprompted, and Prim wasn’t even his patient.  It was at this time that Peeta decided that he liked Dr. Cinna— that he was perhaps his favorite doctor as of yet.  Dr. Cinna provided Peeta with a wheelchair for Katniss, after first making sure Peeta’s legs were strong enough to haul her to the elevator.

“Come on Katniss, let’s go see our girl,” Peeta suggested, rolling the wheelchair up to Katniss’ bedside.

“Okay, sure.  Mom’s on her way Peeta, she should be here tomorrow.”

“That’s good Katniss, I’m glad,” Peeta tried to feign enthusiasm.  He frowned, wondering if she realized she just told him this only minutes ago.

Peeta wheeled his wife to the elevators and then pushed the “12” button that would deliver them to the PICU unit.  He followed the arrows and pressed the button on the intercom, waiting patiently for someone to answer them.  Johanna immediately recognized him, and took them through the same procedure from earlier of scrubbing down, a temperature check, and donning the sterile gown, gloves, and mask before Johanna led them to their daughter.

“Peeta, what— what are we doing here?  I thought you were taking me to Prim?” Katniss asked, all traces of joy disintegrating as she was wheeled to Prim’s bedside.

“Katniss, honey— this is—”

“Oh, baby!  Prim, baby, oh my God, what, how—” Katniss’ eyes filled with tears as she craned her neck up to meet Peeta’s eyes.

“No, no.  NO!” Katniss screamed, standing up from her wheelchair, glaring daggers at Peeta.  “NO, this is NOT happening!”  Katniss shrieked, bolting from the room.  Peeta did not follow her, he knew she needed time.  The wheelchair was only precautionary, Katniss’s main injury was the concussion, which had healed during her medically induced coma.

He pulled a chair up to his daughter’s bedside, stuck his gloved hand inside the isolette and began to stroke her tiny hand.  He needed her to know he was here for her and he wasn’t going anywhere.

“Oh, my sweet, sweet baby girl.  My beautiful, beautiful, Primrose; Mommy, and Daddy are here for you and we’re not going anywhere, do you hear me?  Mommy is just scared right now, and she will be back really soon.  Oh, Primmie— we love you so, so much and we need you to get better.  Oh, Prim; I know you probably don’t know this, or understand it, but you are the light of our lives.  You have to get better, okay?  Please fight, Primrose; you have to fight.  I don’t think Mommy would survive if we lost you, I don’t know if I would survive.  I know that’s a lot of pressure to put on such a little girl, but … but—” Peeta closed his eyes, held his head down, and did something he hadn’t done since he was a boy. 

He prayed.

“If there is anyone out there who can hear me, anyone at all, I—” Peeta began, pleading with the powers that be as he sniffled, wiping his eyes with his free arm.  “Please save my girl, she is my world, my everything.  And— and my wife— Katniss needs her Primrose.  I’ll do anything; if it’s a life you want— or need, take mine instead.  Prim is just a baby; she hasn’t had time to live yet.  She still needs her first day in kindergarten, her first best friend—a first boyfriend and a first heartbreak.  I’ve lived, I’ve had all those things and more.  I’ve lived a happy life, but please, just please, don’t take my girl.”

“Prim …” Peeta began after a moment, hoping to reach out to the sister Katniss lost so many years ago, “if you’re out there, and you can hear me, please … please look over our girl.  Please, don’t … you can’t take her, it’s not her time,” Peeta sniffed again, his head perking up from the sound of footsteps behind him.

“Mr. Mellark?” It was Dr. Abernathy— Haymitch, looking no worse for the wear.

“Hi, Dr. Aber—”

“Haymitch.  Call me Haymitch.”

Peeta nodded and met the man’s eyes, “Peeta.”

“Peeta, we’ve done everything we can for your girl, now it’s up to her.”

“What does that mean?” Peeta asked with a befuddled raise of his brow.

“It means that medically speaking, there is nothing more I can do for your girl.  Now, it’s up to her, whether or not she’s willing to fight.  If she gains consciousness before the night’s over, I am optimistic that, in time, she’ll make a full recovery.”

“And if she doesn’t?” Peeta asked, trembling with fear as he awaited the doctor’s answer.

“Then it’s not likely she’ll wake up at all, and then … we’ll discuss extraordinary measures.  But let’s not cross that bridge until we get to it.  In my experience, kids will fight to live if they have somethin’ ta fight for.”

“Thank you, Dr.— Haymitch.  I … I need to find my wife— what are visiting hours?”

“I’ve cleared it with the nurses; you and your wife can stay as long as you want.”

“Thank you,” Peeta smiled and shook Haymitch’s hand, eager to find Katniss.  As he made his exit from the PICU, he noticed Haymitch taking the seat next to his daughter and cleared his throat.  Peeta slowed his pace, straining to hear what the doc had to say.

Haymitch cleared  his throat once more and began to speak in a soft and gentle voice that  Peeta almost didn’t recognize from the hardened doctor.  But it was— without a doubt, him.  “Listen, sweetheart, I know you don’t know me and all, but my name’s Haymitch and I’m your doctor.  I know you’re little and all and you probably don’t understand how the world works, so, I’m gonna tell ya.  You see, doctors give orders and patients are s’pposed ta listen.  I’m the doctor, you’re the patient, got it?  Alright, well now that that’s settled, I’m ordering you to stay alive, alright kid?  That’s all you gotta do; stay alive.  I’ll do the rest.”

With that, Peeta went on a quest for his wife, knowing his daughter was in good hands.

  After Peeta wheeled Katniss to their daughter’s bed, it all hit Katniss like a ton of bricks.  That was her daughter lying in that miniature hospital bed.  Her Primrose.  She had already lost one Primrose; she wouldn’t survive losing another— she just wouldn’t.  Unable to face the truth, she ran from the room and took the elevators to the top floor.  Once she exited the elevator, she went to the nearest door, which led to a stairway.  She took the steps two at a time and passed through another door that opened up to the roof.

Katniss ran to the edge, leaning against the banister; not to jump, but just to look out into the sky.

For the first hour, she cried.  She cried and cried, trying her best to convince herself that wasn’t her Prim lying in that bed, but someone else’s baby.  It couldn’t be her daughter, it just couldn’t.  The universe couldn’t be that cruel, right?  But deep down, she knew it was.  And then, she was consumed with guilt—for wishing that fate upon someone else’s child.

During the following hour, she did something she hadn’t done since she was small, since her own parents forced her to do it.  She didn’t necessarily believe there wasn’t a God exactly, but she didn’t really believe there was one either.  But what if there was?  Would he still listen to her after all the years of silence?

Deciding it was worth the risk, on the off chance there was some kind of higher power out there, she begged, she pleaded for them to save her little girl.  And then, she resorted to begging, dropping to her knees as she bargained her life away.  She didn’t know that at the same exact time, her husband was doing precisely— the same exact thing.  She was on her knees sobbing when she heard the door whoosh open, her husband’s beautiful blue eyes piercing into her own grey ones.

“Katniss, are you okay?” Peeta asked her, worry glazing over him from the sight of her on her knees.

She wanted his comfort, needed it even.  But then, she was angry at him.  No, not angry, but furious, enraged.  This was all his fault, after all.

“Go away!” She shouted at him, seething with rage.

“Katniss, what?” Peeta shrunk back, hurt by her rejection.

“This is all your fault Peeta.  If you hadn’t— YOU’RE the one who wanted kids, not me.  If YOU hadn’t convinced me to have kids, this wouldn’t be happening.  We wouldn’t be losing her.” Katniss stood up and inched herself closer to Peeta, sending him a cold, icy, glare.

“You don’t mean that Katniss,” Peeta told her, holding his stance with pain-filled eyes.  He knew deep down that she was just hurt and needed to channel her frustrations elsewhere.  Lashing out at him was the easiest, and fastest way to achieve that goal.

The closer Katniss got to Peeta, the angrier she became.  The tears began streaming down her face until she could no longer hold back the uncontrollable sobs.  She began hitting and pounding her fist against his chest, she was so angry.  But Peeta didn’t budge.  He didn’t try and stop her, he just stood there, taking each hit and allowing her to use him as her own personal punching bag.  He knew it wasn’t actually him she was angry at, she just needed somewhere to divert her anger.

Peeta pulled Katniss into his arms and within seconds she ceased pounding his chest.  He held her, crying his own silent tears while Katniss sobbed in his arms.  Once the tears subsided, Katniss looked up to see the pained expression on her husband’s face, in addition to the tears streaking his cheeks and she felt … guilty.

“I’m sorry Peeta, I’m so sorry.  Oh, Peeta, I— I’m sorry, I didn’t mean what I said.”

“Shhh, sshhh.  I know, I know,” Peeta whispered into her ear, stroking circles against her back as he tried to comfort her.

“I can’t lose her Peeta, I— I won’t survive if I lose her.”

“I know Katniss, I know.  Me too.  But … but I won’t survive if I lose you.  So, let’s pull ourselves together, go to our baby girl and give her something to fight for,” Katniss sniffled and nodded her head.  Together, they walked back to the PICU to be with their daughter.

They re-entered the PICU and headed straight for Prim, only to see a swarm of nurses huddled in a circle; in what looked like them holding vigil at their daughter’s bedside.  One look on their faces and Katniss and Peeta knew something was wrong— devastatingly so.

“I’m so sorry Mr. and Mrs. Mellark, her vitals are steadily declining.  It won’t be much longer now; would you like to hold her before— before—”

“I … I wasted so much time,” Katniss cried, nodding as the tears streamed down her face.  One of the nurses pulled up a rocking chair for one of the parents to sit in.  Peeta was adamant that Katniss hold her first— just in case.

They opened the tiny incubator and placed Prim in Katniss’s arms, draping a blanket over them while another nurse made a call to Haymitch.

“Oh, baby girl, momma loves you so much.  Mommy and Daddy love you so, so much sweet girl.” Katniss hummed through her tears.  “You are so special Prim, so, so very special, my sweet, sweet girl.  You are so special and so loved and …” Katniss sobbed through her tears, placing kiss after kiss to her little girl’s forehead.  Peeta squatted next to Katniss and with one hand, he linked their fingers, and with the other hand, he stroked his little girl’s foot.  The floodgates were open— he didn’t think he could cry any harder until he heard Katniss’s beautiful voice singing the lullaby to their daughter.

Deep in the meadow, under the willow

A bed of grass, a soft green pillow

Lay down your head and close your eyes,

And when they open, the sun will rise;

Peeta’s heart plummeted in his chest as he heard Prim’s heart monitor “flat line.”  As difficult as it was with the splint on his leg, he inched closer to his wife and daughter as they both cried and overwhelmed Prim with kisses.  They showered her with as much love as they could muster, telling her how much they loved her.  They told her how special she was and how they would never forget her.  As badly as it hurt Peeta to say the words, he finally told his baby girl that it was okay for her to go.  The last thing he wanted in this world was for her to suffer.

The nurse reached up to silence the heart monitor when, suddenly, the steady beeping from the machine resumed all on its own.

“What the—” the nurse exclaimed just as Haymitch burst through the door.

“I thought you said code red?” Haymitch growled, seeing the normal heart rhythm on the monitor.

“She—she flatlined, and then— she just— came back,” Portia stuttered in complete bewilderment.

“Little slugger had something worth fighting for, what’d I tell ya?” Haymitch chuckled, looking at the teary-eyed parents.

One Year Later:

“Happy Birthday to you, happy birthday to you …”  Katniss and Peeta sat on either side of their daughter on her third birthday, slightly less than a year after the devastating car accident that nearly took her life. 

  “That is one happy little girl,” Effie looked up and smiled at her husband.  “Thanks to you,” she added in a whisper.

  “Yeah, yeah.” Haymitch pretended like he didn’t care, but Effie knew—she always knew; he cared too much.

  “What did you wish for, sweet girl?” Katniss asked her daughter after she blew her candles out.

  “A baby brudder,” Prim said, her face smeared with chocolate frosting and a mouthful of chocolate cake.

  Simultaneously, Katniss and Peeta’s eyes locked and Katniss inadvertently reached up to palm her belly.

  “Should we?” Katniss mouthed to her husband who gave her a slight nod.

  “You’re going to be a big sister Prim, but not for a few more months,” Peeta informed their daughter, loud enough for everyone to hear.

  “Yay!  I like wishes, Mommy!” Prim squealed, wrapping her tiny arms around her mother’s neck.

[wistfulcynic]

The Meet-Cute (2 of 2)

In which Ruby decides that what Emma’s love life needs is a good old-fashioned meet-cute, and sets about arranging one for her. Or two, or three, or six... whatever, she’ll set up however many it takes for her friend to meet The One. But it may turn out that Emma doesn’t need any help finding The One after all...

First part on Tumblr and AO3 

a/n: this chapter contains sweetness, quite a lot of silliness, and a big ol’ hot kiss. 

Thanks to @optomisticgirl for the idea and @thisonesatellite, @ohmightydevviepuu, and @katie-dub for support and general delightfulness. 

-

PART TWO:

The next day was Wednesday and Emma spent the morning on patrol, driving around Storybrooke and trying not to think about how far away Friday was. She was just about to take a break and go to Granny’s for some coffee when her phone rang. The name on the screen was just about the last one she would ever have expected, and she frowned hard at it for the space of a good four rings before answering. 

“Graham?” 

“Hey, Emma.” His voice was just as she remembered it, gruff and accented. And faintly apologetic, which was new. “Um. Long time.” 

“Yeah, I guess you could say that. How’s life in the woods?”

“Ah, yeah, it’s good. And, um, about that. It’s actually why I’m calling. Because I can’t come in to town, I mean.” 

“Well I didn’t think it was because you wanted to catch up on old times,” said Emma drily. “What’s the problem?” 

“It’s my truck.” Graham paused and the silence stretched. 

“Your truck?” Emma prompted, her patience wearing thin. She was not in the mood for Graham’s strong-and-silent schtick today.  

“My truck.” He sighed. “It—well, it seems to be out of gas.” 

Emma rubbed her temples. “And how is your lack of forward planning the responsibility of the Storybrooke Sheriff’s Department?” she asked, in a voice just shy of a snap. 

“Well that’s the thing, I did forward plan,” said Graham. “I had a full tank last night because I knew that today I needed to drive to Portland. There’s a forestry convention I’m going to—well, it’s not important, but I wanted to get an early start so I made sure everything was ready before I went to bed last night. Then this morning I wake up to find my tank empty and the spare can missing.”

A creeping suspicion was beginning to crawl up Emma’s spine. “So you think, what, someone stole your gas?” 

“I know it sounds crazy, but honestly I can’t come up with any other explanation.” 

“Graham, do you happen to know Ruby Lucas?” 

He paused, and when he spoke again his voice was confused. “Ah, the woman at the diner?” 

“That’s her.” 

“I chat with her whenever I go there, maybe once or twice a month. She seems nice. Why?” 

“No reason.” Emma glowered through her windshield at Granny’s sign as she drove past it. “Listen, I can bring you a can of gas but it’ll take me at least half an hour to get it and get out to you. Does that leave you enough time to get to Portland?” 

“Yeah, it should. I’ll have to change my plans a bit, but it’ll be okay. Only, Emma, what about the person who emptied my tank—” 

Emma set her jaw as she pulled into the gas station. “I’ll take care of it.” 

—

Thursday morning found her in Granny’s early, marching up to the counter with her fists planted on her hips. 

“I could arrest you, you know. I probably should.” 

“What?” Ruby blinked innocent eyes as she prepared Emma’s coffee, with plenty of milk and extra cinnamon and hazelnut syrups. “What did I do?” 

“Emptying a gas tank is stealing, Rubes. You’ve got to stop doing this stuff!” 

Ruby handed her the coffee, and a bag containing a fresh bear claw. Emma scowled at it as Ruby asked “Did it get you a date, at least?” 

“It did not. At least, not in this decade.” 

“Um.” Ruby frowned. “What?” 

“I already dated Graham.” Emma decided that while the bear claw was unmistakably a bribe she could always just eat the evidence, and took a big bite. 

“You did?” Ruby demanded. “When?” 

“I’m surprised you don’t remember,” muttered Emma around her mouthful of pastry and nuts. “It wasn’t long after I moved to Storybrooke. Just before he decided to ‘escape the cage of civilisation’ and moved out to the middle of nowhere.” 

“Wait, wait. It’s coming back to me now. Are you saying that Graham is Mountain Lodge Guy?” 

“Yep.” 

“Fuuuuck Ems, I’m sorry.” To her credit, Ruby did look genuinely apologetic. 

“Well you should be,” retorted Emma, hardening her heart. “And you should stop doing this, Ruby! It’s getting ridiculous. I mean, it was always ridiculous but now it’s branching into minor-felony-level ridiculous. Please, I am begging you, stop.” 

“Ah,” said Ruby, biting her lip. “Um, can I stop tomorrow?” 

Emma’ blood ran cold. “Why?”

“I—may have already put the next plan into motion.” 

“What? What plan?” Emma demanded, just as her phone started ringing. 

Ruby grimaced. “Let’s just say you’d probably better answer that.” 

—

Emma took a deep breath and squared her shoulders before knocking firmly on the door of a large, sprawling house on the edge of town. It swung open immediately to reveal a man wearing a frantic expression, his dark hair standing up on end. 

“Oh, thank God!” he cried, falling to his knees. “Thank God.” The dog at the end of the leash Emma had looped around her hand wriggled in delight as he licked the man’s face. The man hugged the dog tightly, laughing as his cheeks was thoroughly washed. “How’d you find him?” he asked. 

Emma watched the reunion with a reluctant smile. “I had a tip,” she replied wryly. “Someone spotted him in the street and managed to grab him. They let the sheriff’s department know, and we cross-checked his description with reports of missing dogs.” Or at least that’s what she would have done had the dog actually been missing, and not lured into the backseat of a car by Ruby armed with a juicy steak. The dog had spent the morning in the storage room of the diner, gnawing happily at the bone for an hour before taking a long nap on a cosy blanket. And now he was home again, unharmed and with a belly full of steak. All in all not a bad morning for him, Emma reflected, though she felt sorry for his owner. 

The owner who was now rising to his feet and eyeing Emma with the eye of a man who, reassured of his beloved pet’s safety, could turn his attention to other matters. 

“I’m August,” he said, offering his hand. “August Booth.” 

Emma knew this of course, because Ruby had told her, but she took his hand anyway. “Emma Swan.” 

“Emma,” August repeated. “I’ve seen you around, obviously, but—well it’s nice to finally meet you. Can I offer you a drink or anything?” 

She shook her head. “Thanks, but no. I’m on duty and I really should get back to it.” 

“Of course.” He gave her a hopeful smile, as the dog bounced cheerfully at his side. “Another time, maybe?” 

“Ah, maybe.” Emma’s own smile was noncommittal. “Have a nice day.” 

“You too. Emma.” 

__

Emma got home that evening to find Henry with a huge grin on his face and an A on his solar system project. 

“Look, Mom!” he cried, waving the paper at her. “Mr Johnson said it was one of the best projects he’s ever seen!” 

“Wow, that’s great, Henry!” Emma took the paper and examined it with a beam of pride. “Well done!” 

“I can’t wait to tell Killian.’ Henry was bouncing on his heels. “Can we call him? Maybe he can come over again!” 

“Um, it’s a bit late to invite him over now,” Emma hedged. The truth was that she’d been looking for an excuse to text Killian since he’d left her place on Tuesday night, but was also not sure he’d want her bothering him. “But you can tell him tomorrow.” 

“Is he coming over tomorrow?” 

“Um, yeah. We’re going out.” 

“Out?” Henry’s eyes went wide. “Like on a date?” 

“Yeah. Is that okay?” 

“Mom, you don’t need to ask me if you want to date someone. It’s your life.” 

Emma shook her head, lips pressing together in a bittersweet smile. Sometimes her little baby boy seemed so grown up. It had been happening more and more often lately and though she loved to see it, it also gave her an aching twinge in her heart. 

“But you’re the most important thing in my life,” she said firmly, “and I’m not going to date someone you don’t like.” 

“Well, I like Killian. So as far as I’m concerned, date away.” 

She laughed, and pulled him into a hug. “So you can wait until tomorrow to tell him about your project?” 

Henry heaved a great sigh, though his eyes were laughing. “I suppose.” 

—

Henry may have been able to wait, but Emma found she couldn’t. Barely two hours later, after they’d eaten dinner and Henry had settled down to do his homework, Emma found her fingers typing out a text to Killian without her permission, and sending it before her brain had a chance to object. 

Emma: Henry got an A on his solar system project. 

She held her breath after she clicked send, nerves fluttering in her belly. But it was barely a minute before three dots appeared below her message and then Killian’s reply. 

Killian: That’s brilliant! Tell him I said well done. 

Emma heaved a breath and felt her lips curve in a silly grin. I think he’d rather tell you himself, she texted back. I was just too excited to wait. 

The reply came almost immediately. Your secret is safe with me, love, it said. I’ll pretend it’s the first I’m hearing of the news. 

The silly smile was still on Emma’s face as she tried to think of a way to extend the conversation. Before she could come up with anything the three dots appeared again followed shortly by a message. 

Killian: How was your day, Swan? Any exciting crime on the mean streets of Storybrooke?

Emma’s cheeks began to hurt as her grin widened further, and she settled in to regale Killian with the story of the dog, minus a few key details of course. When she finished he told her about a frustrating patron he’d had, who was looking for a very particular book but could not remember its title or author, or in fact any details about its plot or characters. All he could recall was that it had red on its cover. 

Which, as I’m sure you can imagine, did not much narrow things down, Killian remarked. 

The conversation drifted then onto other topics, flowing so easily that before Emma knew it they had been texting for three hours. When she finally got to bed that night—an hour later than usual—she drifted off with a smile still on her face, thinking of him and of their date the next day. 

—

Wear something warm, Killian had said, and so late on Friday afternoon Emma changed out of the thin blouse she’d worn all day and into a sweater. A new sweater, one she’d bought on an impromptu trip to the boutique that morning. It would be winter soon, she’d reasoned, and she could always use another warm layer. It was definitely not because the sweater was a pretty shade of rose pink that complimented her complexion and made her feel soft and feminine, or because its slim fit hugged her breasts in a very flattering way. 

Not at all. 

She finished the look with dark jeans and a brown leather jacket with a sheepskin trim and headed out into the living room, ten minutes early. 

Henry was watching TV but when she came into the room he looked up and his eyes widened. “You look awesome, Mom!” he said. 

“Thanks, kid.” Emma rubbed her damp palms on her jeans. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so nervous. “Are you sure you’re okay with staying here by yourself?” she asked Henry, who rolled his eyes. 

“Yes, I’m sure,” he said. “I have your number and Killian’s number and the hospital’s number and Mary Margaret’s number. Mary Margaret is just upstairs if I need her and she’ll come in to check on me at bedtime and make sure I’m not throwing any wild parties.” He gave Emma a sardonic look and she couldn’t suppress a chuckle. “Dinner’s in the fridge,” Henry continued, “I’m supposed to do my homework so it’s done for the weekend then I can play video games, and you’ll be home by midnight. Did I forget anything?” 

She put her hands on her hips and shook her head at him. “No, I think that covers it.” 

He got up from the couch and gave her a hug. “I’ll be okay, Mom,” he said reassuringly. “It’s just for a few hours.” 

Emma nodded, squeezing him tightly. “I know.” He was still her baby, though, and it was a mother’s prerogative to worry. 

Henry seemed to sense her mood because he gave her a cheeky grin. “Be sure you’re home on time, though, or else I might turn into a pumpkin,” he teased.  

She laughed. “I promise.” 

Just then the doorbell rang, sending Emma’s heartbeat into overdrive. She took a deep breath and then another as she smoothed her hair and adjusted her clothes. Henry smirked at her and went to open the door. “Hey, Killian!” he greeted. 

“Hello, Henry,” Killian replied, and God, Emma thought, his voice was even sexier than she remembered. “How are you?” 

“Good,” said Henry brightly. “I got an A on my solar system project!” 

“That’s brilliant, lad!” said Killian, catching Emma’s eye and giving her a wink. Probably the least stealthy wink she’d ever seen, more of a full-face twitch. 

Fortunately, Henry was too busy grinning with delight to notice. “Thanks for helping me,” he said.  

“It was my pleasure.” Killian smiled at Henry but his eyes kept flitting to where Emma was standing behind him, hands clasped and trying not to twist them nervously. “Swan,” he said, transferring his smile to her. “You look lovely.” 

“Thanks.” Emma flushed at the compliment and searched for the right words to return it. Killian was dressed in a sweater as well, a thick fisherman’s one in a deep blue shade that brought out his eyes. “You look...” Hot. Gorgeous. Highly fuckab—gah. No. She shook that thought from her head. “…um…” 

He shot her a small smirk, one that said he knew what she was thinking, even as his cheeks went pink. “I know,” he said.  

She rolled her eyes. Of course he did. 

They stood grinning foolishly at each other until Henry gave a loud cough. 

“Ah.” Killian scratched behind his ear, the flush in his cheeks deepening. “Are you ready then, love?” he asked. 

She nodded. “Yeah, I think so. Henry, are you—” 

“Mom.” Henry gave her a stern look. “I’m fine. Go.” 

“All right, all right,” she sighed. “I’m going.” 

She allowed Killian to guide her out the door and down the stairs with a hand hovering just over the small of her back. From another man such a gesture would have felt controlling but from him it just seemed sweet—old-fashioned, like the way he spoke and the general air of courteousness he carried.  

“Where are we going?” she asked, when they exited her building and turned down the sidewalk. 

He smiled, soft and a bit nervous. “You’ll see.” 

They chatted lightly as they walked, conversation made easier by all they had shared in the texting marathon of the previous evening, and when they arrived at the docks a good twenty minutes later Emma felt as though no time had passed at all. 

“What are we doing here?” she asked, looking around in confusion. 

“Come with me.” He held out his hand and she took it without hesitation. Briefly she wondered at how easily she trusted this man she hardly knew, she who almost never trusted anyone, and then he led her up a gangplank and onto a long wooden sailing boat and she forgot everything else in her astonishment. 

“This is yours?” she exclaimed.

“Aye,” said Killian with a small shrug. “You can take the lad off the sea but you can’t take the sea out of the lad. Or something.” 

Emma laughed. “You bought this after you left the navy?” 

“I did,” he replied. “Lived on board for a few months. I was going to stay on her while I was in Storybrooke but Belle said that was ridiculous when there was an empty apartment above the library, so…” 

“Yeah. And doesn’t it get cold at night? On the boat I mean.” 

“I have blankets. And rum.” He waggled his eyebrows at her and she laughed. “But yes, the apartment is much more congenial as a place to sleep, so I’m grateful for it.” 

On the boat’s deck a blanket was spread out, with a pile of cushions on one side and a small camp stove on the other. “I thought we could make grilled cheese,” Killian explained. “Henry, ah, told me it was your favourite. And everything tastes better under the stars.” 

Emma felt a lump rising in her throat. “There—there aren’t any stars,” she said. 

Killian smiled at her. “Not yet.” 

She made herself comfortable on the blanket while Killian produced a leather satchel, from which he removed plates and napkins, bread and butter, and a dizzying array of cheeses. 

Emma gaped as he lined them up in front of the stove. “I usually just use the kind that comes in pre-wrapped slices,” she said. 

“Aye, I have some of that.” he replied, holding up a small, square parcel. “Though I thought, maybe, if you were in the mood for it, that you, ah—might be up for trying something new?” 

His expression was so hopeful, so open, and she knew that he wasn’t just talking about the cheese. He meant the way she’d been living, closed-off and untrusting. Alone. He was asking her to let him in, and God, Emma thought, she wanted to. 

“I—yeah.” She swallowed hard, but the smile she gave him was genuine. “I’d like that. But, I’m gonna be honest here, I have no idea which one.” 

Killian laughed, a deep, rich sound that warmed her inside and out. “Try the gouda,” he advised. 

“I don’t even know what that is,” she said, laughing with him. 

The warm smile remained on his lips but there was something deeply solemn in his eyes. “Do you trust me?” he asked. 

Emma swallowed again. “Yeah,” she replied, and it was true. She really did. 

Killian nodded. “Gouda,” he said firmly. 

She nodded back. “Okay.” 

—

The gouda turned out to be delicious, melting into the kind of stringy, gloopy mess that had Emma’s eyes rolling back in her head with delight. Its flavour was mild, almost nutty, and absolutely delicious—way better, she was sure, than the soft, smelly stuff Killian put on his bread. 

“This is amazing,” she said around a mouthful of melted cheese. “That, on the other hand…” 

He chuckled. “It’s an acquired taste.” 

“I’m sure. So... why exactly did you acquire it?” 

An odd look crossed Killian’s face. “Sometimes you eat what’s put in front of you, love, and learn to like it later,” he said, in a voice grim with not entirely pleasant memories. “I’ve been in places where to refuse the food would be a grave insult, and a grave insult could result in... well, let’s just call them unpleasant consequences.” 

“Wow.” 

He gave shrug and an offhand smile. “I mean, not to be dramatic or anything.” 

“Oh no, obviously not.” She munched her cheese, trying to think of a lighter topic. “So, um, what made you become a librarian? No offence but you don’t really seem the type.” 

“No, probably not.” His smile warmed and softened and Emma felt herself relax. “I wanted a quiet life after the navy and I’ve always loved books, so it seemed like a natural choice.” 

“Yeah, I guess I can see that.” 

“It’s been healing,” he said softly. “In more ways than one.” He was silent for a moment, then turned to her with a quirked eyebrow. “And what about you, Emma, what brought you into law enforcement?” he asked. 

“What don’t I seem like the type?” 

“On the contrary, it seems a perfect fit for you. I’d just—like to know you better.” 

Emma felt a flush rise in her cheeks as her heartbeat quickened. “I was in bail bonds before I came to Storybrooke, but there’s not much need for that here so I sort of fell into sheriffing,” she explained. “I didn’t even intend to move here, I was just passing through. But I had car trouble and got stuck for a while, then the job opened up and I just—stayed.” 

“It’s a good place to stay,” Killian remarked. 

“Yeah. Way better than where we were living in the city. Henry was really little when we moved and I’m glad he’s growing up in a place like this.” 

“Aye, it seems an ideal spot to raise a child.” 

There was a wistfulness in his voice that made her heart thump harder. “I just realised I never asked you where you live,” she said. 

“Ah.” He scratched behind his ear again. “That is a question. I’ve been in Boston for the past few years but I’m starting to think I need a change. One of the reasons I was glad for this break in Storybrooke.” 

Emma focused on keeping her breathing steady. “Where do you think you might go?” she asked. 

“I might”—he shot her a mildly wary glance—“stay here.” 

“Here? As in Storybrooke here?” 

“Aye. There’s a job opening up next year at the high school library that I’ve applied for.” 

“I—” She blinked in surprise. “Wow.” 

“I hope it doesn’t freak you out, love,” said Killian, stumbling over his words in his haste to speak them. “It wasn’t because of—well, it isn’t as though you aren’t a factor, but mostly I just—” 

“You could see a future here.” Emma nodded. “Hey, I get it. Same.” 

He visibly relaxed, expelling a long breath before continuing. “I actually put in the application before we met,” he explained. “About fifteen minutes before, in fact. But I’d be lying if I said the prospect of staying here didn’t grow considerably brighter when I realised there was a chance you could be part of that future.” His eyes widened when he realised what he’d said. “I mean, I—” 

“Yeah.” Emma reached for his hand and gave it a squeeze. “I know what you mean.” 

Dusk had fallen by that time, and the stars were beginning to appear in the sky. Killian quickly tidied up the plates and utensils and cheese, then produced from his seemingly bottomless satchel a thermos full of hot chocolate. 

“Mmmm,” said Emma, “that smells amazing. Though I usually have mine with some—”

“Cinnamon?” Killian grinned at her as he held up a small jar of the spice. “Aye.” 

“Henry told you,” guessed Emma. 

“That he did.” 

“When did you have time to mine my son for information about me?” she teased him. 

“We had some quite interesting conversation in between discussions of moons and planets,” he informed her. “It’s a truly wonderful boy you have, love.” 

“Yeah,” she agreed, accepting the steaming cup he offered her. “He really is.” 

Cradling their cups of chocolate, they relaxed back against the pillows and gazed up at the darkening sky. As the stars grew brighter Killian showed her some constellations, pointing to them with one hand while the other lay next to hers on the blanket, close enough that she could brush his little finger with her own. She slid her hand closer and let her fingers curl around his, and when he turned his hand to grip hers more firmly she relaxed against him, resting her head on his shoulder as they sipped their chocolate, looked up at the sky, and talked. They talked about everything, likes and dislikes, pastimes and pet hates. Their childhoods and their dreams for the future, their hopes and their fears. She told him, haltingly, about Neal, and he replied with the story of his affair with a married woman, which had led to him leaving the navy. For two such different people they had a surprising amount in common, she realised. Not so much in the specifics of their lives as in the way they looked at the world, and the experiences that had shaped them. Emma had never in her life felt so understood. 

All too soon her phone buzzed in her pocket, reminding her that it was almost midnight and she had promised Henry she’d be back before then. 

“I have to go,” she said apologetically. “Henry—” 

“Of course,” he replied. “I’ll walk with you.” 

He kept her hand in his as they stood and headed back to her apartment, twining his fingers with hers and brushing his thumb feather-light across her knuckles, setting her heart racing in her chest. His hand was warm and rough and the gentle movements of his thumb sent sparks dancing up her arm and all across her skin. 

When they reached her door she turned with a smile, still holding tight to his fingers, loath to break the contact until she absolutely had to. 

“I had a wonderful time,” she said. “We should do this again.” 

His own smile lit his face, stealing her breath as it always did. “Any time, love,” he murmured. “Perhaps next time we can go for a sail.” 

“I’d love that.” 

His eyes were soft as they caressed her face and she found herself holding her breath as they swayed in each other’s orbit, easing closer and closer, and then closer still until she felt his fingertips brushing across her cheek, until he cradled her jaw in his palm and their lips met. 

The kiss began gently, tentatively—sweet brushes of lips and sighs of breaths that soon grew deeper, hotter, more insistent as the hands they still held gripped tighter, as his fingers left her cheek to tangle in her hair and hers fisted in his sweater to pull him closer. A deep groan rumbled in his chest and Emma felt herself pushed back against the door, his lips insistent now, his tongue hot in her mouth and his body firm against hers. She released his sweater to curl her arm around his neck and hold him tight, pressing herself as close as she could get, rolling her hips over the hardness she could feel low against her belly. 

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt this way, if she ever had. Like she couldn’t get enough of him—his feel and smell and taste—like she wanted to tear off his clothes and have him right here, and damn the consequences. But also she felt safe, secure in the certainty that while he clearly wanted her just as much, once the kiss ended he would say goodnight and go, no pressure, no demands, no resentment. She was certain of this because she trusted him, and the inherent decency she’d sensed in him from the beginning.  That kind of trust was freeing, she realised in a bright and stunning flash of understanding. Wonderfully freeing, to let down her defences and put herself into the hands of another person, knowing he wouldn’t take advantage or use that trust to hurt her. Her heart soared as she hugged Killian tighter and kissed him with everything she had, and when the kiss finally ended and he rested his forehead against hers, all she felt was happiness and the stirrings, deep in her heart, of a far stronger emotion. 

“That was—” he gasped, blinking dazed eyes and clearly struggling for words. 

“Amazing?” she supplied. “Incredible? Hot as fuck?”

He gave a breathless chuckle. “One hell of a goodnight kiss. Plus yeah, all those other things.” 

He pressed another kiss on her lips, brief and chaste and gentle, then released her and stepped back. “I’ll call you tomorrow,” he said. 

Emma tried not to feel bereft at the loss of his warmth and closeness. “Maybe you could come over for dinner,” she said. “I mean, if you’re not busy. It’s just Henry would love to see you, and—” 

“I’d love that,” he said, gently interrupting her before her stream of words could get out of control. “Let me know what I can bring. Not brownies this time.” 

His eyes twinkled with amusement and she gave a slight wince. “Was it that obvious?” 

“I hope you won’t take this the wrong way, Emma, but you’re a bit of an open book,” he replied. “One I’d very much like to read more of.” 

“I—I’d like that too,” she said softly. “And my favourite dessert is lemon bars.” 

“Lemon bars I can manage.” He smiled, a bit wistfully but with a new light in his eyes that made her feel like she could fly. “Goodnight, Emma,” he murmured. 

“Night, Killian.” 

She watched him until he disappeared around the bend in the stairs then slipped into her apartment, shutting the door silently behind her and leaning against for a moment. She closed her eyes and ran the tip of her tongue over her lips, then gave herself a little shake and took off her jacket and shoes before padding silently into Henry’s room. He was fast asleep, with the blankets kicked off and bunched around his waist. She pulled them down and tucked them in around him. 

“Mom?” he muttered. 

“Yeah, kid. I’m home,” she whispered. “Go back to sleep.” 

Henry blinked heavy eyelids. “Did you have a good time?” 

“I did. I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow. Go back to sleep.” 

“K,” he replied, and in his next breath she could tell he was asleep again. 

—

The next morning Emma dropped Henry off at a friend’s house and went to Granny’s for some coffee. Ruby greeted her with a scowl. 

“You here alone?” she demanded.

Emma crossed her arms over her chest. “I am.” 

“August another no-go, then?” 

“I have to admit, he was closer than the others,” Emma conceded. “Probably your best attempt yet.” 

“But not good enough?” 

“Nope. Not good enough.” Perhaps once there may have been a time when someone like August would have caught Emma’s eye. Before Neal. Even, possibly, before she’d met Killian. But now...

Ruby planted a fist on her hip and shook her finger at Emma’s nose. “I’ll get you, Emma Swan,” she declared. “Sooner or later, come hell or high water, I will find the man for you. I swear it.” 

“Ruby—” 

“Nope.” The shaking finger became a palm in Emma’s face, which she irritatedly pushed aside. “I know you don’t approve of my tactics,” Ruby continued, “but the gauntlet’s been thrown down. My honour is at stake.” 

“Your honour? Seriously?” 

“Yes, seriously! I’m going to find you a guy or die trying, and that’s just how things are. Now, here’s your coffee.” She thrust a takeaway cup into Emma’s hand and Emma sighed heavily, watching Ruby through narrowed eyes as she handed another cup to another customer, before finally taking a long sip. 

It was a minute before her brain registered the taste of what was in her mouth and then she spit the coffee out with a choking gasp. 

“What the fuck is this?” 

“Coffee,” said Ruby, who was standing ready with a pile of paper napkins. She fluttered her lashes innocently. “Why, is there something wrong with it?”

Just then Emma heard the sound of vigorous coughing and a very familiar voice spoke up from behind her. 

“Excuse me, lass, but I think you may have given me the wrong drink,” it said.

“Oh did I?” cried Ruby. “I am so sorry! What seems to be the problem with it?” 

“Well, it’s, er, very sweet.” 

Emma sighed and turned around to face Killian. His face brightened in surprise and pleasure but she spoke before he could greet her. “I think you must have mine,” she said. “You take it black?” 

“Aye.” 

“Here.” She held out the cup she was holding. “This one’s yours.” 

“Ah. And I suppose that makes this yours.” 

They exchanged cups and smiles, Killian’s bright but confused and Emma’s resigned, especially when their fingers brushed and her heart began to race. 

“Wow,” said Ruby loudly, “what a funny mix-up. You two should definitely get each other’s names, in case it happens again.” 

Killian opened his mouth to reply but Emma gave a tiny shake of her head and he closed it again, his forehead wrinkling with a baffled frown. Emma turned to Ruby. 

“All right,” she hissed. “You win. 

“I—what?” 

“I like this one. I’ll take him. Congratulations, you did it.” 

Ruby looked genuinely nonplussed. “Are you serious?” 

“Yep.” 

“What’s the catch?” 

“No catch.” 

“Well I am a bit of a catch,” piped up Killian, who was watching the exchange with amusement and dawning understanding.

Ruby’s eyes flitted between them, narrowed in suspicion. “Emma Swan,” she growled, “if you’re fucking with me…” 

“I’m not! Honestly. Here, look, I’ll prove it.” 

She set her cup down on the counter and turned back to Killian, watching his eyes go wide and the smirk fall from his face as she grabbed him by the lapels of his jacket and pulled him in for a kiss. Dimly she heard the sound of Ruby’s gasp and of Killian’s coffee cup hitting the floor, but then his arms were around her and he was sighing against her lips and all Emma could think was that what she’d told Ruby just now was true. She did like this one, and she damned well would take him. For the first time in far too long Emma truly and honestly envisioned what her life could be with a man in it, a partner to share it with, and found that the prospect didn’t scare her. She was excited for it. She wanted it. She wanted Killian. 

For all its heat and passion he kiss ended softly, and she smiled up at Killian, still clinging to his jacket, pressing her forehead to his. He grinned back, delighted if slightly dazed. “That was rather forward of you, lass, considering we only just met,” he said, deadpan. “But I can’t say as I object.” 

“Mmmm,” she hummed. “What do you say we take our coffee somewhere quiet and get to know each other a bit better?” 

“I’d say that’s an excellent plan. But as to the coffee, well—” He indicated the steaming puddle at their feet.

“Here you go,” said Ruby, and they both turned to see her holding out a fresh cup. “On the house.” 

Killian shook his head. “Oh, I couldn’t—”

“Look, anyone who gets a kiss like that off Emma is going to need it,” said Ruby firmly. She raised an eyebrow at each of them in turn. “There’s something going on here that I don’t know about, and rest assured I will find out what it is,” she informed them. “But for now take your coffee and go. You two are distractingly hot together and I have other customers.” 

“Well if you’re—” 

“I said go!” Ruby glared until Killian took the cup from her. “Enjoy. Oh, and Emma—” 

“Yeah?” 

“Call me later.” Ruby tapped a sharp-looking fingernail meaningfully on the countertop. “Or else.” 

—

@kmomof4, @stahlop, @spartanguard​, @mariakov81, @teamhook 

[misteria247]

Forgotten

Chapter Three

WARNING: The following chapter has swears and a few mentions of alcohol. If this makes you uncomfortable then I encourage y'all to check out my other works!

~~~~~

The truck drove through the night, the driver humming softly to themselves with the radio. Tonight had been a rather strange night for them, after having something hit their truck and seeing nothing around other than broken tree branches, rocks and other natural things the driver had been a little bit spooked ever since. Now they were even more desperate to get home, to get back to the city and away from the creepy woods.

"Soon I'll be back in my shitty apartment and away from this bullshit."

The driver grumbled to themselves as they continued the long journey home. After a good ten miles or so the familiar shapes of old houses and gas stations started to show up again instead of trees. The human sagged a bit relieved to see the familiar landmarks when the sudden dinging from truck startled them back into their once tense position. Eyes scanning the dashboard they finally landed on the gas meter and the human cursed.

"God damnit...I need gas."

They growled driving the old truck towards a gas station nearby. Pulling up to the pump they parked the truck and turned it off, searching for their wallet. Once found the driver got out of their truck and slammed the door shut before making their way towards the building.

~~~~~

The sound of a door slamming shut was what woke him up. As silent as a grave and on high alert, he peeked through the holes of the tarp that kept him hidden and blinked rapidly at the sudden bright lights that blinded him. Once the specs of color and darkness were out of his sight he took in his surroundings and bit back a swear.

'Civilization, I stayed too long in the truck. I gotta get out of here before I'm caught.'

He thought in a slight panic before forcing himself to calm down.

'Okay think, is there anyone who could see me? Are there any cameras?'

He looked back through the holes in his tarp and saw no one in sight. He breathed a sigh of relief before looking for any cameras. Seeing that the truck was parked far enough away he took a deep steadying breath.

'Keep calm, stay focused. Move swiftly, stay to the shadows. That is the true way of the ninja.'

The thought rang through his head leaving him slightly confused.

'Ninja? Why would he know the way of the ninja?'

He didn't have time to ponder the questions as he had a time limit. Not wasting another moment he sprang from the truck bed as quickly and quietly as he could bolting for the trees that were still around. Once he was safe under the cover of complete darkness again and out of sight of any humans he relaxed.

'You did well......my.....'

He blinked in a sudden daze as a soft voice echoed in his mind. A voice that sounded familiar yet unfamiliar. It made him feel something, something he hadn't felt in a long time.

It made him feel safe.

Shaking his head to get rid of the whispered voice he continued to run until he was out of sight of the gas station. He didn't know exactly where he was going but he knew better than to stay around here. He'd find some other way to get to a city, he just had to think. Thankfully he wasn't seen, the last thing he needed was for angry humans to go after the freak.

~~~~~

"What.....the.....fuck....."

The driver breathed in stunned shock and disbelief. They'd had just gotten done paying for their gas and had stepped out of the gas station building when they'd seen it. Something big running in the treeline before disappearing. The driver could barely make anything out but they could have sworn that they saw something green.....almost like skin......

The driver didn't stick around long after that too terrified already from the night's events. Filling their truck they quickly hopped in and sped out of the gas station lot. Zooming down the road the poor drive didn't look back, instead focusing on getting back to the city. They nearly cried tears of joy when they saw the familiar sign signaling that they were almost there.

New York City, five miles ahead.

"Finally, jesus I hate nature and I hate whatever the hell that thing was."

They said in a spooked tone speeding down the road until they'd finally hit city limits.

~~~~~

New York was a rather crowded city. Filled with people of all walks of life and all kinds of backgrounds it was a melting pot of anything and everything. It was the place where you could thrive in the hustle and bustle of fast living. The city that never sleeps, always awake in some way twenty four hours a day. It was a hectic lifestyle but it was how things were. And wherever hectic things occurred there was bound to be someone who sees it. It was the perfect place for someone who worked in the news to find great stories.

It was a perfect place for people like April O'neil.

April was a rather smart woman, working for big companies and finding the latest scoops to sell to the huge news media stations, she had a keen sense of finding things out that others could never dream of finding. Because of this natural talent April had been the first one to discover the secret of New York City. The secret that protected the city and its inhabitants from unknown dangers and kept the shady groups of people and other criminals off the streets.

The Turtles.

April's precious family. She hadn't meant to find them, it'd been an accident if she was being honest. What started off as one of her normal routine information diggings it'd ended up with her finding out some rather dangerous information involving an underground group that had wanted to destroy the city. Long story short she'd been saved by these mutant turtles and the rat mutant known as their father and master and taken in when she'd needed protection. After that April O'neil became inseparable from them. She'd ended up fighting alongside them in their dangerous battles against all kinds of enemies such as The Kraang, The Purple Dragons, and even their family's most dangerous enemy, The Foot Clan.

Over the years April fought with them and helped them out in anyway she could. She did everything within her power to keep the turtles and their father safe. They were her family and she loved them dearly and the feeling was mutual. Perhaps that's why April had been one of the people who took what had happened the worst out of all of them mentally. Perhaps that is why to this very day she pushed herself for her boys as hard as she did. Perhaps that is why she was currently in the place she was in now. The bar was crowded tonight, filled with all the drunkards and other unsavory types of people who drank away the night with booze and other alcoholic beverages. The red head was seated at the bar station, her stool scooted away from everyone as much it could go as she listened to the gossip and information that was passed around by its inhabitants.

As she stirred her coke, she'd heard a voice speak up from a nearby table.

"I'm telling you guys! It was some kind of monster thing! I saw it with my own eyes!"

A person exclaimed in a somewhat panicky manner, their eyes wide. One of the men sitting at the table with them just laughed.

"Really? A monster? Ya sure you weren't seeing things?"

The man mused before taking a sip of his beer. The person huffed looking slightly irritated.

"I wasn't seeing things.....no one could imagine something like this."

They said sounding a bit unnerved. That caught their companion's attention as well as April's who was quietly tuning into the conversation.

"This thing....it.....it was big....! And it moved so fast! I couldn't make out much of it but I could make out that it....it had...."

They paused seemingly shaken up recalling it. The man grabbed their shoulder and gave them a little shake.

"What?? What did it have???"

The man demanded sounding a bit irritated and on edge.

"It had green skin......I swear to God.....it was green like.....like some kind of frog or lizard or something like that I don't really know but I do know one thing. It....it wasn't natural...."

They finished off. The man meanwhile just stared at them in shock.

"Jesus Christ...."

The man breathed. The conversation seemed to die down for April who sat on her stool frozen dead in her spot. Her bright blue eyes were wide with disbelief. She didn't think about what she was doing next as she suddenly stood up from her stool and made her way to the table that was near her and quickly shot out.

"This gas station, where was it??"

She nearly demanded the poor person who jumped at her sudden appearance. The person blinked before they responded.

"Uh the old gas station outside of the city right before you come into its limits. About five miles out-Hey lady where you going?!?"

The person exclaimed baffled but April was already gone from view. She quickly left the bar, her mind racing a mile a minute.

'There's no way....it couldn't be.....it's been four years.....!'

She thought trying to think about it logically. It just wasn't possible not after.....April slowed her pace down on the sidewalk as she remembered the sobering moment that ruined her and her family's lives four years ago. The one moment that broke up an entire family and effectively broken their spirits. April felt her throat tighten as she thought about the turtles and their father. How they'd mourned and grieved still to this very day. It just wasn't possible.

'But what if it's really him....? What if it's really truly him....? If there's even a small chance that it could be him.....I have to know. I'd never forgive myself if I didn't go and see if it's really him....'

April's thoughts whispered brokenly. She had to know, she had to see if what this person saw was really the one she and the boys believed was gone. With a determined fire that she'd thought had long past died April began speeding up her pace again, her blue eyes alight with something she hadn't dared to entertain since the incident four years ago.

Hope.

With a practiced motion she reached into her pants pocket and pulled out her cellphone ready to call the turtles when she paused.

"I can't bring them into this, not without knowing if it's really him or not. If it was just something that the person imagined...."

April mumbled softly. The red head knew that if she got the boys involved and it'd ended up not being him......

It'd most likely destroy the family even more than it already was.

"But I can't just go alone! I might need backup! Ugh but who can I call-"

April stopped mid rant her eyes going wide as another person popped into her mind. One who she knew for sure would go with her. Scrolling through her contacts she finally came across the familiar number of the one person she hadn't spoken to in a good while. Pressing the call button she patiently waited for the phone to pick up. After a few short rings it finally picked up.

"Casey, it's April. I need your help."

*Three parts in the span of a few days hot damn I'm on a roll y'all and it feels hella good!!! I'm lowkey pretty proud of this part and I'm just having a blast writing for my boy Leo and this premise that I've got going on. Hopefully y'all are having a blast as well!!!! Anyways if any y'all read this I hope you enjoyed it!!!*

[tirednerd2012]

I thought of a way Kirk could feasibly appear in EIGTBO. Suppose his mom kicks out his dad when he's younger, but he still grows up to be violent and sadistic, so she's finally forced to kick him out too and forbids him from seeing Luke. Luke and Ian and some other kids play together when Kirk shows up planning to kidnap Luke. Barley's able to save him, but Kirk takes Ian in retaliation. Later he offers Barley an ultimatum: bring Luke to him, or he'll never see Ian again.

So, Imma try this. Luke and Ian are both, let's say 8 at this time because Jenny and Leo will be featured in the story, but Jenny and Barley won't be engaged or anything. Since there is so much trauma, this will be broken up and explored more as Ian and Barley get some much needed therapy. Also the beginning will have another story because this was going to be a great day for the brothers and I need fluff later.

Barley heard a child crying and someone dragging the kid by their arm. The kid desperately tried to get free. His mind went to worst case. A playground. A bunch of kids. This was an attempted kidnapping.

He didn't hesitate to rock that guy's shit and then call the police.

Turns out the guy, Kirk Jones, had a restraining order against him from his little brother, the boy, Luke. The police promised Barley that the mother would be called and that would be that. He took Ian's hand and left because he couldn't stop shaking.

Barley had a splitting headache the next week. He could hardly keep his eyes open and even the sound of Leo and Ian playing quietly in the next room made it feel like his head was about to bust open.

"Barley," Jenny said and kissed the top of his head, "I can take the boys out to the park or something. You get some sleep. You've been working a lot and probably just tired."

He forced himself to make eye contact with her, even though the room felt too bright. He nodded and she kissed him again.

"Get some sleep," she said softly and he laid back down on his bed. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

A few minutes later he heard his bedroom door creak open. He opened his eyes again and saw Ian with a glass of water. His little brother placed it on his bedside table.

He looked over apologetically as he saw Barley awake.

"I- um, you always bring me water when I'm not feeling good," he said and Barley chuckled, forcing himself to ignore his migraine and ruffled his brother's hair and then kissed the top of his head.

"Thanks, bud, go have fun. I love you."

"I love you, too," Ian said and then gave Barley a quick hug before leaving. The moment Barley put his head on the pillow, he was out.

Until he woke up to the worst call of his life.

"Barley? Barley, I need you get to the police station. Now," Jenny said. Barley could hear the panic and sobbing in her voice and his heart stopped. He jumped up from the bed and immediately grabbed his keys.

"Jen? What's wrong? Are you okay? Are the boys?"

She sobbed harder.

"Someone just attacked us. He grabbed me from behind by my hair and the boys tried to help but-" she cried more and Barley felt the tears forming in his eyes as he got out to his van and immediately started it up.

"Jen, what happened?"

"He took Ian. Barley, he took him and I don't even know where we are and Leo is hurt and won't wake up and Barley, you need to get to the police station. Now. Some officers tracked my phone and are coming now. Oh God."

"Jen, listen to me," Barley said, trying to keep his voice steady but his mind kept repeating everything to him. Ian was gone. Ian was missing. Leo and Jen are hurt and they didn't know where they were. Ian was gone. Dear God Ian was gone.

"Barley."

"I'm on my way to the station. Did you get a look at the guy?" he asked.

The next few days would be the worst of his life, yet they blurred together. Each dragged on and he felt like he was going to die. He'd rather have died than felt the pain he felt those next few days.

Ian tried to move out of the cage, but the older boy who smelled like alcohol was scaring him. He paced back and forth around the cage, occasionally screaming and then kicking it.

Ian's crying annoyed the boy apparently.

"Just stop! He's not coming!" the boy yelled. "Your brother isn't coming and even if he does, I'm going to kill him."

"Barley is coming for me! And I'd hate to be you when he gets here!" Ian snapped and the guy opened the cage and yanked Ian up. He didn't hit him, just yanked him hard and forced him close. Ian winced at the stench of rum.

"Then where is he? You've been here a day, kid. And he's not here."

"He's looking."

"No, he ain't. Because he doesn't give a shit about you," the boy said and Ian felt his stomach turn at that idea, but he knew that wasn't true. Barley would never give up on him.

"You wouldn't come for your little brother?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because my little brother decided to stay with my mom. He turned his back on me. He's better off dead than with that woman," the boy snapped as he threw Ian on the ground, but didn't do anything else. He played with the knife in his hands and Ian wanted to run, but the boy was right in between him and the door.

Barley, please, hurry.

"Then why do you care about seeing him again?"

"Because he needs discipline in his life and she's not going to give it to him."

"What does that have to do with Barley?" Ian asked and the boy knelt down beside him.

"Because your brother doesn't understand his role in life and he needs to learn to mind his own business."

Two days. It had been two days and no one could find Ian. Kirk was off somewhere no one knew about. The police were doing the bare minimum to help and Barley couldn't think straight.

His foot was on the gas pedal as he drove, nowhere in particular, because being on the road was better than being home. It was better than Ian's empty bedroom and the silence. It was better than hearing Jenny cry and not having the strength to provide her comfort. It was better than watching Frank drink.

Everything was falling apart and Barley kept running over and over in his head that it had been two damn days since he last saw his brother. Last heard his laugh. Played with him.

Ian was gone. And had Barley been there, he could have saved him.

Barley was so lost in his mind he didn't notice when a unicorn jumped onto the road. He slammed his brakes, almost flipping his car over and the case file the police gave him flew everywhere and the phone book dropped on the floor.

He didn't wrap his head around the experience at all.

He looked at the piece of paper then looked in the phonebook. Only one Jones surprisingly. Rebecca Jones.

And it had an address. Barley took a deep breath, said a quick prayer, then was gone. He wasted no time going to a random stranger's house.

A woman opened the door. She was about a foot shorter than Barley, with hair longer than Jenny's, but she looked to be in her 40s.

"Can I help you?" she asked. Barley took a deep breath and went over his entire situation, from her son, Kirk, to helping Luke, to his girlfriend being attacked, to his little brother missing.

And she stood there. What's worse is she didn't seem particularly surprised, but terrified. She shook as Barley continued.

"I'm sorry, but I can't help you."

"He has my brother," Barley said and Mrs. Jones stopped and didn't close the door. "He has my little brother. Ian. He's 8 and he's probably hurt and crying out for me right now. Please. Whatever you know. My little brother is my absolute everything. I'm not going to take your son, I'll face Kirk myself, but please. I need to know where to go."

"The little boy he took is your brother?"

"Yes. He's the only family I have left. I've been raising him for three years. He's everything to me and I'll do whatever it takes to get him back," Barley felt the tears sting his eyes, "I feel like I'm losing my mind. I just want him home and safe. I want to hear him playing upstairs in his room or sitting with me on the couch. I miss tucking him in every night."

"How long has Kirk had him?"

"Two days now. I haven't slept. I haven't eaten. I haven't stopped searching. I found your name in the phone book and took a chance. I have nothing left to lose, please," Barley begged. The woman studied him for a moment, and then he heard another voice. A child's voice.

"Mommy? Where's- hey, you're the guy from the other day!" Luke said as he saw Barley. Barley could normally push all of his problems away and smile in front of children, no matter what he was feeling. But looking at Luke broke him even more. The kid had the exact same eyes as his precious little brother.

"Sweetie, go back inside, please," Mrs. Jones said and then looked back up at Barley. "My son is dangerous. I tried so hard to save him. His father used to beat him and then twisted his mind. I don't think he'll ever be able to tell wrong from right."

"And I'm sorry about that, but someone you just admitted is dangerous has a kid right now. You're terrified of him seeing Luke again, and I understand that, but he has my kid right now. Please, I won't tell him anything. I'll even help you and Luke, but I need Ian back. Please."

"His father used to own a house on the other side of town. I'll write down the address for you," she said and invited him inside. Barley walked in and saw Luke on the couch. The young boy tilted his head in curiosity at Barley while his mother went to grab a piece of paper.

"Hey, mister, what's your name?"

"Barley," he answered.

"Thanks for your help the other day. My big brother is really mean and..." his voice trailed off for a moment, "I'm glad I didn't go with him. Sometimes I think he still loves me, but then he gets mad and he hits me. Or he drinks something and gets really angry."

"Luke, I know he's your brother, but family can be so many different things," Barley said. "And you are a great kid who didn't deserve that treatment. Mrs. Jones came back in with a piece of paper and Barley looked at Luke one more time before leaving.

He wasted no time getting to his little brother. He drove as fast as he could and 10 minutes later, he was at the house. He called the police and went inside.

He heard yelling and glass shattering. Then Ian crying.

Ian.

Barley broke the door open and immediately his eyes locked with Kirk.

"Barley!" Ian cried out. Before Barley could do anything, Kirk charged. He was stronger than Barley anticipated and they both got knocked into a nearby bookshelf. It broke at their combined weight and the fight continued.

Barley busted Kirk's head against the wall, but he must have been used to it because it had zero effect on him, which was slightly concerning but there were more pressing matters.

Ian cried out for Barley to watch out and then Kirk picked up a nearby glass bottle of whiskey and hit Barley with it. Hard.

His vision blurred, but he could see the flash of silver from a knife, heading right towards him.

"Barley! No!" Barley couldn't comprehend what happened next.

Kirk went in with his knife, he heard Ian scream and then an explosion that threw Kirk away from him, yet he was unharmed. Not a touch. He spun around and saw his little brother with tears pouring down his already tear-stained cheeks, desperately trying to get out of the dragon cage. He was also unhurt. The only person that seemed to get injured was Kirk.

The police busted in just as Kirk forced himself up with a groan and then looked at Ian.

"How did he- no, something's up with that kid!" he said as two officers grabbed him and handcuffed him. Then his eyes locked on Barley with a glare and a deadly promise laced as his pupils focused in on the other man. "You're going to pay for this, you bastard! That kid has something and I'll get it!"

The officers dragged him away and Barley got Ian out of the cage and his brother jumped in his arms and buried his head into Barley's chest and sobbed.

"Ian, oh thank God. It's okay. You're safe. It's okay," he said over and over again and kept apologizing. He kissed the top of Ian's head multiple times and refused to let the child go. "I love you so, so much, kiddo."

His mind went back to the explosion and he wondered how Ian did do that. Ian screamed and Kirk flew back, but how?

Ian curled into his chest further and his thoughts went back to what the last few days had felt like. Not knowing if he was ever going to see his little brother again. Searching and worrying. Crying. Almost crashing his van because the idea of never seeing his little brother again, his entire world, made him want to die. Jenny and Leo crying. Frank on the phone with the police.

He couldn't explain what Ian just did, but Ian was there. He was in Barley's arms and his older brother would never let him go again.

"I love you so, so much, bud. I'm never letting anything take you from me again."

[mor-beck-more-problems]

The Fast and the Furious: Spectral Drift || Morgan, Nell, & Constance

TIMING: Current

PARTIES: @nelllraiser @constancecunningham @mor-beck-more-problems

SUMMARY: Just gals being pals.

CONTAINS: car theft, drowning

For once, Nell was gaining a moment of mediocrity in her otherwise far too lively existence. Not that she minded the chaos. Parts of her thrived on it, but she’d been learning as of late that not all chaos was good, and a spot of normality was welcome in an otherwise unforgiving world. She and Morgan had gathered at Coffee Plus, taking advantage of the quiet day to do a bit of catching up between one another. Leaning forward to take a hearty bite of her chocolate muffin, Nell finished chewing and swallowed before finishing the story she’d launched into. “I’m just saying- maybe if he couldn’t handle the whole sandwich, he shouldn’t have stuck his fingers in the hanyo.” Her tone was bright with a laugh as she remembered the ridiculous expression that had been on the man’s face. Ready to launch into another joke about the poor guy’s predicament, she stopped mid-sentence— realization dawning over her as movement caught the corner of her eye. “Morgan...isn’t that...your car?” Pointing towards the vehicle in question, Nell stood to get a better look. Sure enough, she recognized the license plate that was ever so slowly inching away from the curb, the back of a mysterious head seeming to fumble with the controls. “Someone’s taking your car!”

Morgan was relieved that Nell wasn’t so bothered by her Constance drama as Blanche had been. She missed her young friends and whatever good she was able to imagine she did for them by being around. They certainly did plenty enough for her. Nell, especially, never backed down from a fight or a favor if it seemed right to her, and she could brighten any day with stories from her daily whirlwind adventures. Even though Morgan couldn’t really enjoy anything at the cafe, she didn’t feel ill at ease slurping at her seltzer water with Nell across the table. Listening to the latest turn, Morgan couldn’t help but snort. “You know not everyone is in your league, right, Nell?” She asked. “A lotta guys who call themselves brave would pee their pants getting up to some of the stuff you do. Although, gotta say, even I’m not woman enough to go anywhere near that ‘hanyo’ stuff, even for money.”

She had another question on her lips when Nell’s face changed. “M-my what?” She couldn’t have heard that right. But she followed Nell’s finger and— “That fucking bitch,” she hissed, tearing her bag off the chair. “I gotta go, I’m sorry, Nell, you might wanna run.” She stumbled outside in disbelief. “You’ve got three seconds to get out of my fucking car!” She cried.

Constance jumped, startled at the fury in the woman’s face. She was still getting used to being seen by any old soul, and not just her fellow damned and dead. She could still get out. Apologize for the mischief. This crime was small, impulsive, childish. She had only been wondering at the miraculous contraptions since they had first frightened her months ago. And seeing Morgan, this other Agnes, slide in and out of hers with more pride than any girl she’d seen give to a bicycle. It hadn’t even been locked. How grateful could this woman be for it if she didn’t think to have it locked? Thus, Constance’s resolve solidified. “I think you’re wrong!” She called. Her foot tested one of the pedals and a delicious roar came out of the engine. “I only need three to get away with it.” She moved the lever next to her and pushed the pedal again. The automobile shot backwards, crunching into something behind her. Constance fixed the lever again and she was flying forward, into the road like a comet. “Try and stop me, Bachman!” She cried.

Immediately electing to ignore Morgan’s recommendation of running, Nell’s head whipped around in search of something that might help, an idea that could get Morgan’s car back, and possibly give Constance some hell at the same time. It came to her in the form of a bright and shiny sedan someone was just pulling up in, putting their own vehicle into park alongside the curb. They didn’t have a chance to take the keys out of the ignition before Nell was on them. “Can I borrow this?!” she yelled at the startled driver who was frozen in shock. His confused voice matched the hopeless alarm on his face.

    “Wha-? No! It’s my car! Who the hell are you?” Without answering, Nell wrenched open the driver side door, grabbing the shirt of the poor man to firmly remove him from his seat, and deposit him on the asphalt. “Sorry!” Nell quickly apologized, another idea quickly coming to her. “Uh- official police business! Detective Vural thanks you for your service and so does White Crest!” It’d only taken her a quick second to Summon the fake badge she’d magically made when she’d pretended to be police to Regan and shove it into the face of the driver. As Constance and Morgan’s car rocketed down the street, Nell quickly put her ‘borrowed’ car into gear, also ignoring the fact that she didn’t have a license, and had mostly driven tractors. “Morgan!” she called out, rolling the car to her friend. “Morgan, get in! We’ll catch her!”

Morgan screeched with outrage. “My girlfriend bought me that Subaru!” She started pelting the car with whatever she had on hand. Her drinking straw, crumpled up receipts, post it notes, half used packs of Trident, pens, embroidery needles, her planner. They all bounced off the red car and fell pathetically into the road as Constance reversed right into a light pole, switched gear, and drove straight into traffic.

Morgan followed her as far as the stoplight, screaming wordlessly until the car behind her honked. “Hey, lady! Don’t make us late too!”

Morgan stumbled back into the parking lot, just in time to see Nell wielding a police badge as she dove into a random suburbanite sedan. “D-detect--yeah! Detective Stryder thanks you for your service too! Call the station with my name if you have any questions!” She didn’t slide so much as topple into the shotgun seat, junk still spilling from her bag. “And thank you!” She called behind her. They sped off in the direction Constance had gone, fast enough for Morgan to feel plastered to her seat before she could even buckle up. “I uh--didn’t know you had a lot of getaway experience, Nell,” she said, laughing breathlessly.

Broken glass and confused drivers littered the road ahead of them. Skid marks striped the road. Up ahead, the faintest streak of banged up red zig zagged through the lanes before jumping the curb and tearing into the town common.

A snarky chuckle fell from Nell as the familiar name of Marley Stryder was thrown into the mix. “I didn’t know you knew Marley,” she said as casually as a person could while beginning to give chase to a car that had been hijacked by a ghost who could have belonged in Downton Abbey for all Nell was concerned. As for getaway experience… “Oh, I don’t! Unless you count racing games and tractors!” she answered brightly, the rush of piloting a car that was careening down the street in a chase already causing delicious adrenaline to pump through her veins. It’d been a long while since she’d gotten to enjoy a high like this without also fearing for her life. “Actually, I’ve always wanted to drive a getaway car! Or be in a car chase! I just didn’t think I’d get to since I don’t have my license or whatever.” The witch dropped the news as if it were the most inconsequential fact one could say at a time like this, accelerating all the while. A light turned red. Nell didn’t hesitate as she blew through the intersection. Thankfully, Constance had run the same light, clearing the way for Nell to pass through safely. “Don’t worry, we’ll get her!” In a jerky movement, Nell followed the ghost onto the grass of the common.

“We’re acquainted,” Morgan said, wincing at the memory. It clearly wasn’t in any way that could be considered ‘good.’ “Wait, what do you mean you--oh my fuck, Nell, no!” Morgan yanked the wheel, swerving the car away from a tree, bouncing painfully back onto the street. She could see her red Subaru swerving down towards the docks in the distance, the bumper just barely hanging on and sending a fireworks show worth of sparks down the street. “She can’t get much farther like this,” she hissed between her teeth. Morgan let go of the wheel and reached into her bag for her salt pistol.

This wasn’t really the ideal time for Nell to question Morgan further about her and Marley’s relationship, even if her need to be nosy was in full force and trying to get her to ask anyway. Later, she told herself before punching her foot to the gas once more. “Hey!” she objected as Morgan jerked the wheel. “I wasn’t gonna hit it! Talk about a backseat driver,” Nell grumbled. But the disgruntled mood was quickly past her. How could she stay upset when she was zooming along in a car chase? A grin split over her lips as she took the time to roll her window down, laughing as the wind whipped her hair with the sudden gust of air. “What is that?” Nell asked, not entirely sure what kind of gun the strange thing in Morgan’s hands was. However, she did know that if Morgan was going to get any kind of decent shot, they needed to be closer. Yet again, Nell stomped on the gas, laying the pedal flat against the floor of the car. Finally, she managed to catch up to Morgan’s car, the front bumper of Nell’s ‘borrowed’ car kissing against the back of Morgan’s Subaru. The nudge was more than enough to knock the Subaru’s bumper loose. “Ha!” Nell exclaimed as the piece of plastic clattered beneath them before remembering that it was Morgan’s car she’d just tapped. “Ah- I mean- oops?”

Morgan cried out to see her poor bumper. Her fingers stretched out helplessly to the windshield. “S-subaru…” she whispered. That did it. Morgan cranked down the windshield, because of course it still had a fucking crank, and leaned out, pistol raised. Three short pops burst through the air. Three brusts of smoke. The salt rounds exploded against  the Subaru. One landed in the spiderweb break in a window, melting on contact.

Constance’s joy was short lived. These monstrosities were no relief, no freedom. The beastly thing seemed to have a mind of its own! Then the windows began to cave in, dripping with salt. “No, no, no, no…” She whimpered. She tried moving the lever, but this only made the car jerk and fit. Panicked, she rammed her foot to the pedal. The automobile screamed as if she’d cursed it and spun out of her control. Constance shifted, ready to drift out like it was no matter of all, but no, her solid form was now her prison. The automobile crashed onto the docks. Wood shattered everywhere in its wake. Finally, it came to a stop, and Morgan Beck, the last of the Bachmans, was right behind her. Constance picked her way out of the debris and stumbled into the car’s path, her body clenched and unyielding. Let her do her worst, cruel coward that she was. To ruin even one of her ill-gotten treasures was worth the trouble this had cost.

As Morgan hung out the window of the car, Nell reached for her own door handle— ready to launch herself into whatever showdown it was that Constance was hoping to have here. What she was going to do she wasn’t all that sure yet. But Nell had to do something. If she didn’t, who knew if there would be another Maxine sooner rather than later? But as her hand reached for the plastic of the handle, she heard a click of the locks, and in a single second the witch found herself momentarily trapped in the car by some no good ghost mischief. If only it had stayed mischievous rather than lethal. Before Nell could so much as search for the unlocking mechanism, a weightlessness overtook her. She was...flying? No, the entire car was flying. Straight over the side of the dock as Constance wielded her power once more, sending the borrowed vehicle right into the hungry fingers of the waiting waves of the ocean. Morgan was gone from the window before Nell could make sense of what was happening, probably thrown adrift by the sheer force of the launch. And then...an icy coldness as water began to pour in through the open window, the car sinking steadily below the surface of the water while Nell remained trapped inside. She jerked uselessly at the handle as more saltwater began to fill the cab of the car, it not taking long to rise to her knees. It seemed whatever Constance had used to keep the doors shut wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

Constance, don’t.

The voice wasn’t in Constance’s ears, but it shook through her strange body as she tried to stop the car. Locking it was no matter to her, but the rest, becoming an immovable object to its unstoppable force. If she were her full self, it would already be in the air. If she were herself, she could have gotten hands around Morgan and snapped her to pieces. She could have thrown her across the room, smashed her up and down and gathered the dust of her bones for--

Constance, don’t.

It was the girl’s voice. Blanche Harlow. And in remembering her warning, Constance stepped back from her rage. But the car was already trembling in her grip. There was someone besides Morgan inside. Another girl, as frightened as the school children had been, maybe more. She could see Constance. She knew exactly what was happening to her, and perhaps even why. Constance let go, it was too much, all of this was too much, she didn’t want to be cruel to innocents, but she couldn’t let Morgan cower behind her friends all the time either! Constance’s self-control was like that of a child and the car didn’t come gently down to rest. It soared into the water and crashed through its depth, hard enough to disrupt the waves. Constance watched it sink, helpless to move, to think. “Help!” She screamed at last. “Someone help! There was a crash, did you see a crash? The automobile just-- there’s more than one person inside there! Help!” She sprinted up the docks, arms waving like mad. “Help me, please!”

Even Morgan’s zombie nerves felt her body hit the water. She plummeted downwards, muscles burning as she wriggled to slow herself down. The ocean was veiled in salt and murk before her eyes, but she could just make out the outline of the subaru in the distance. She opened her mouth once to call, only realizing how stupid that was when water rushed into her mouth. Fuck. She had to get to her. She was not losing another person to this spoiled brat of a witch. I’m coming, Nell. I’ll make this right.

As the water got higher, and only the murky depths of the ocean could be seen out her driver’s side window, Nell screwed her eyes shut for a long moment— trying to assess, to find her way out. She hadn’t come all this fucking way to die via being tossed into the ocean by a god damned ghost. The sound of rushing water, and the coldness of it rising to chest height was enough to push Nell into action, and in a quick moment she’d drawn one of her hidden daggers, slamming the butt of it against a backseat window. It did what it was meant to, shattering the glass and allowing more water to fill the car. The witch couldn’t remember where she’d heard it, but somewhere along the way she’d gotten it into her brain that letting the car fill with water would make it easier to open the door and make her escape. A quick spell made easy work of the locks, and the whole handle flew off of the side of the door as the dire need of the situation had given her a little too much juice when it came to casting. Whatever. It would work. She’d been submerged enough to float towards the roof of the car at this point, and now all there was left to do was wait. Wait for the car to finish filling. Wait for the perfect moment to take her last breath and make a break for it. Finally, the moment came— and she took a shuddering and deep last breath of precious air as the car became entirely filled.

Nell fumbled it. Half of her final breath became water where there should have been air, and suddenly a reflexive cough was wracking her. In all of two seconds...her air was spent, and she hadn’t even gotten out of the car yet. It didn’t matter. That was what she told herself. It didn’t matter because dying wasn’t an option. Kicking open the door, it felt like time moved in slow motion as she finally came out from the car. She raised her eyes towards the light filtering above her to find that the sun seemed impossibly far away. Shit. Shit shit shit. Had she really sunk that far so quickly? Should she have tried her chances with getting out of the car earlier? It didn’t matter now. Swimming had never been a problem for her, but the surface seemed impossibly far. Nevertheless, she kicked her legs, making a desperate attempt to live. It wasn’t long before her lungs were screaming for air, begging her to take that breath of seawater that would begin the sealing of her fate and death. Just a little closer. Just a little more. But the little more wasn’t enough. It felt like every gallon of the ocean was pressing on Nell— her eyes, her ears, any crevasse it could manage to find. Dizziness began to take its hold, and Nell vaguely wondered how it was even possible to be dizzy underwater, the inane thought crossing her mind as spots began to appear in her vision. She wasn’t going to drown. She refused to drown. Barely aware of it, sheer will seemed to propel and jet her higher, and whether it was her legs or her magic, she wasn’t able to say.

Morgan was no expert swimmer, but she had determination and stamina on her side. She tore through the water, muscles aching. The pull of the ocean was not her friend this time. It weighed down her arms, making her slower. Salt and floating debris flung into her eyes. Morgan continued to swim. She could see her now, a limp ragdoll figure in the blue.

No. Not today. Not one more fucking person is dying because of Constance.

Morgan grabbed her around the waist and propelled them to the surface.

“There they are!”

“Look!”

“Someone toss ‘em a rope!”

“Grab on, honey! Don’t let go!”

Morgan’s eyes were blurry with seawater, but she made out the shadow of a life preserver flying towards her. Morgan dragged her and Nell towards it, trying not to focus on how much distance there was between them and the shore, the ruin of her Subaru, the weight of Nell’s motionless body in her arms. “We--” she called, her throat choked with salt. “We need-- CPR! She--” Morgan gagged on more seawater. Nothing was moving fast enough. Not her legs, not the human chain forming on the docks, not the clouds gathering over the blinding sun. Morgan kicked in the water to help move them along, but it felt like she was still being pulled down, squeezed until she broke and gave up.

When they reached the surface, Morgan remembered to give a few dramatic coughs and wheezes while a woman she recognized from Amity Row felt for Nell’s pulse. “How did you… did you see? What happened?” Morgan asked.

The crowd looked uneasily at each other. “Just the end,” one of them admitted. “Wouldn’t have seen it at all except for that weird little girl.”

They began to describe her in bits and pieces, red hair, funny dress, maybe a cosplayer, but Morgan had already heard too much. She didn’t care what Constance had or hadn’t done for them, what kind of crowd she wanted to draw for her latest maneuver. If she was still gawking by the time Morgan was through here, she’d take her new solid body and pound it into dough. “Out of my way!” She snapped. “She just needs CPR! Fuck, it’s not rocket science!” She started pumping on Nell’s chest, blocking out the rest of the world. She’d taken this training enough times to remember; she could get this right. “Come on, Nell…” She whispered. “I can’t let her get you too. Come on…” She breathed into her mouth. “We’ve got this, Nell. We got this… we got this…”

[karenjournaling]

My Life as a Reader

Karen Echard Boyle

Introduction

The first books I remember as a child sre The Gingerbread Man and Pinocchio. Later, I read about Danny Dunn, Nancy Drew and Cherry Ames. Then in college, when I became an English major, I read Moby Dick and James Joyce’s Ulysses.

I learned to love great literature, but I also became a feminist, a vegetarian, a war protester, and a mother because of the books I read. When I became a mother, books taught me how to raise my three sons, what to feed them and what to read to them. Completing a Masters degree with a thesis on Elizabeth Gaskell and a PhD with a dissertation on Willa Cather taught me to be a literary scholar. But as a working class girl unprepared for college, I may never have finished the PhD, without learning writing practice techniques from Natalie Goldberg and Julia Cameron.

This memoir is an homage to the books in my life, written in gratitude for the possibilities opening up for me because of books. I write about important moments in my life, with reference to books that guided me along the way. I don’t want to write only about the books like a literary scholar, and I don’t want to assume that because I read a book, my life immediately changed. Instead, I hope this memoir pinpoints actions that I took because of reading.

Chapter 1: Cautionary Tales

“”Little Golden Books were designed as impulse buy items that parents would purchase not because an authority had praised them but because the books were affordable, visually appealing, and ready at hand” (57-58). Leonard C. Marcus in Golden Legacy (NY: Golden Books, 2007.

My parents knew nothing about books recommended by authorities, but they bought the six by eight inch books with the golden tape down the spine, available in grocery stores. These are the first books I remember, one called The Gingerbread Man and one a Walt Disney version of Pinocchio. Leonard C. Marcus says these books were meant to teach a lesson: bad things happen to children who don’t follow the rules (96). I was a child who worked hard to follow the rules. Yet I felt encouraged by these books to ignore the adults, run away and see the world. I loved that the Gngerbread Man repeated over and over, “You can’t catch me. I’m the Gingerbread Man.”

Pinocchio, the wooden puppet, also ran away and was swallowed by a whale. Pinocchio was returned home and given another chance, but the Gingerbread Man was eaten by a fox. Cautionary tales, yes, but didn’t these heroes also encourage defiance, adventure and the possibility that you could survive on your own wits?

Maybe the cautionary tales made me feel secure in the world of rules, but books also helped me imagine a life different than the one my parents provided. In 1949, I was born in Santa Cruz, California. My eighteen year old mother stayed at home while my twenty-three year old dad worked at a gas station. After marrying in Alliance, Ohio in 1947, my parents drove their 1939 Chevy to California, joining my dad’s two older brothers. All were World War Two vereterans on the west coast to find better jobs than in Ohio. While there they each had their first child.

My parents always told me that they returned to Ohio. when I was six months old because they were homesick and wanted to show me off to relatives back home, but dad did not get a job at Kaiser Steel like his older brother did, and my birth sent my mother into depression. My dad asked his boss’s wife to care for me for three weeks because mom seemed unaware of my existence. A picture of her gazing at me, a two month old infant cradled lovingly in her arms, indicates that she did recover and care for me.

Although they were in California with my dad,s older brothers, my parents, each the youngest of seven children, must have felt stranded three thousand miles from home, So when they got their income tax return in April 1950, they drove back to Ohio. By the end of 1951, my only sibling, Kathy, was born and six months later, we moved into the two story house at 33 W. Woodland in Columbiana, Ohio, a town of five thousand, twenty miles south of Youngstown.

My cousin told me that after Kathy’s birth, mom cried and read the Bible a lot. I was too young to notice but maybe mom was depressed as she had been after my birth. What I remember most is the blue steel car with rubber pedals and tires, that I received for my second birthday. My early memories of Kathy involve keeping her from interfering with what I wanted to do.

I had my own bedroom at the top of the stairs, but no privacy because the stairs opened into my room, providing the entrance to my sister’s room. Then the bathroom and my parents’ room had doorways off Kathy’s bedroom. I lined up stuffed animals and dolls on chairs facing a chalkboard, so. I could pretend to be a teacher. My sister might start out as a teacher, but she preferred more action, so she regularly shot her stuffed animals with a cap gun and threw them in the closet to punish them for not listening in class.

When Kathy was four and I was six, the boy across the street from us got the first swing set in. The neighborhood. Johnnie and I pushed back and forth, sitting on the double swing, flying much higher than we were allowed. When Kathy walked in front of the swing, the metal seat sliced right into her face. Blood spurted out of the bridge of her nose, like a tiny fountain. Reprimanded for not watching out for my sister, I understood for the first time that I was supposed to watch out for her.

Mostly, I saw myself as protecting my time and space from Kathy. In my desk drawer, I kept a treasured Viewmaster, a red plastic binocular-like toy, that you held up to your face to gaze at technicolor, two dimensional images. You could change the circular cardboard discs, in order to see colored slides of places like Disney Land or the Grand Canyon

Kathy took the viewer out of my desk drawer, and when I pestered her to give it back, she threw it down on the floor, making me so angry that I grabbed her by the shoulders. We teetered back and forth at the top of the stairs, probably imagining ourselves as cowboys wrestling on a mountain range. Although Kathy was two years younger, she was solid, tough and much more willing to fling me down the stairs than I was to endanger her life. But we stopped before anything bad happened. We were friends who watched out for each other.

[lgchunji]

✧ .・゜゜side event 008, chuseok; 추석

     no one needed to wake the chwe household come october first. it was officially chuseok. no one could disguise it any longer. no one in the household had mentioned chuseok the day previous, not wanting to acknowledge what they had to do on the actual date.      hunji rose from his bed at four. he did not set an alarm, for he knew his nerves and dread would wake him alone. he looked around the room. he listened for the halls. not a peep. he checked on all the girls’ rooms. everyone was asleep, save for haneul, who was awake on the computer. he signaled for her to begin getting ready and she nodded.      the air was freezing. outside hunji’s window he could see the sky was black with night but there were no stars. it was so cloudy that even when the sun did begin to rise, it was blocked. was his mother missing them from the heavens? hunji wondered if she purposely blocked the shine.      the morning was dark no matter how hard the sun tried to shine.      hunji first woke the eldest, hana. she rose with her classic slobbered face and rat-hair. every morning, he thought, she was still cute. she got older, but he was always a couple years ahead, ever enforcing how adorable her sleeping habits were.      he moved to make sure the next was awake, haneul, and she was getting dressed. everyone in the house wore their nicest clothes to go see mother. haneul decided on a plain t-shirt and her nicest jeans. he smiled. it was a gorgeous change of pace. “make sure to brush your teeth.”     hwanju was the only one still asleep in their room. she was far grumpier than usual. he noticed tear streaks on her puffy cheeks. he gently pet her hair. he put his hand on her back to try and help her sit up. she was on the verge of tears, so, hunji left her alone with the two eldest girls.     he went back to his own room. huijin was in a deep sleep. he knew how hard her night was, too, for he was rocking her for hours trying to help her sleep. he felt horrible that she only got two hours in, but knew that she would get the rest in on the car ride. he gently lifted her up, then carried her out of bed. he hugged her to his chest. she cried. she huffed and panted but never sobbed. he could feel the tears fall on his bare shoulder. her tiny hands gripped into his skin.     “i don’t wanna go.” she whimpered. he felt his nose sting.     “mom wants to see us, huijin. she’s all alone.”     huijin never stopped crying. hunji had to pass her to hana so he could get the youngest ready.     he began where he started, at his own bed. there, beside it, hayun, an almost-one-year-old, was awake. perhaps she was awake from the crying. maybe it was the grief that tainted the air. hunji worried for her health. he put his hand on her forehead, no fever. he put his hand on her heart, still breathing. why, then, was she lying down? why did she not smile? hunji looked into her eyes. she spoke to him.     i feel it. something is wrong.     something is wrong, sweetheart, but there’s nothing anyone can do.     she rolled onto her front. hunji waited. she stood. he picked her up. the morning had begun.

     he got hayun a new diaper. he fitted her in a comfortable onesie, the only one she had that was not a hand-me-down more than a decade old. he fed her. despite learning to walk and talk, she still drank formula. it had been months since she had real breast milk. everyone grew accustom to this.      huijin still cried. carrying hayun, hunji met hana in the hallway. hwanju, cranky and tired, was reluctantly pulled into the hallway by haneul. the siblings were all gathered. hunji tried to speak up.      he asked them what they wanted to eat. a door opened. at the far end of the hall, where father sleeps and mother used to sleep, was a french door. it was the nicest thing the chwes owned. the siblings were silent as they watched it, even the crying huijin stopped. they waited. father emerged. his hair was done. he was showered. he wore his usual work clothes. like clockwork, the chwe siblings all moved to one side or the other of the hall. seojoon marched through the parted sea of children. he waited in the main room. hunji organized the children.      forcibly, everyone had some kind of snack for breakfast. hwanju was cranky and resisted everything. huijin was too choked on tears to keep anything down. even a cracker, her body resisted. the group went through three grocery bags trying to capture whatever her body rejected. only hayun ate properly, but despite this, was disturbingly silent. she hardly ever blinked.      everyone moved to get shoes. they all dressed their nicest, wearing normal t-shirts and pants mostly, and headed for their car.      the morning air chilled the children. seojoon walked ahead, and behind them hana held a crying huijin while hunji held a silent hayun. it was disturbingly silent. the sun still had yet a chance to shimmer on anyone. was it raining? the air felt wet. hunji wondered if it was just his watering eyes or if it was the cold air. something happened to his face. his nose stung. he kept his tears at bay. he cried them all long ago.       seojoon sat in the drivers. hunji sat in the passenger. in the two middle sat hwanju and hayun. in the back, hana and haneul were trying to appease a hungry and messy huijin.      they drove. they never stopped for food, or gas, or bathroom breaks. normally it would be a two hour trip. with chuseok traffic, it was more than five. no one moved. huijin felt sicker by the minute. no one spoke. they listened to no music, just the occasional upset of hayun and the endless disaster of huijin. not even hwanju, the one who cares for huijin the most, could speak. everyone was stuck in their own thoughts. no one dared change the station.      as the morning went, the clouds left. slowly, the sun creeped in. it mocked the chwes. it looked far too much like mother. it wore her dead skin and laughed at them as they drove. it danced around them. it spoke quotes their beloved mother would speak, but in a horrifying, twisting way, like god was trying to shut it up but it choked out her songs in laughter.      the family simply took the abuse. they had had far worse, what could anyone mocking their mother do? it had no effect, for, mocking always tries to take advantage of the emotions of it’s captors, but for the chwes, it was mere burn out.      they made it to the grave hill. their mothers’ ancestors were buried on the same one, in lumps of dirt and grass. it was odd. never before had hunji seen it, but as he picked hwanju up out of the car, she spoke, “it looks like the teletubies.”      it was humorous. hunji could not smile. “it does.”      no one held their head high save for seojoon. he moved as if nothing touched him. the children followed behind, carrying one another, with their heads low. when they were near her resting place, huijin finally quieted. hunji thought she died. he did not bother to look back and check. they all died in one way or another. what was one more death?      her mound. seojoon marched up to it with panicked speeds. the children shuffled their feet on the greenest grasses they had ever seen. it was just as well kept as it was a year ago. hunji realized, it was so green, because it was eating their mother from the inside out.      the children lined up in front of the grave. hunji, of course, held hayun. they all bowed. they relaxed. they all stayed there. their arms stretched out and their legs tucked under them. huijin shook as she cried. silent tears rolled off of hwanju. hunji, hana, and haneul were all just as stoic as one another. hayun kept her peace but shared it with all.      no one wanted to be the first to move. whilst holding hayun close to his chest, hunji whispered to the dirt, “엄마, 추석 잘 보내세요.”

word count: 1,429 points: +8 lyric writing

[katedoesfics]

Under Shadow: Chapter 20

“So, you’re really never going to go back?” Abigail asked.

Najia shrugged. “It’s probably too late to change my mind now,”

“You’re a strong woman,” Leah said. “And you have a point - you don’t really know what kind of people they are.”

“She doesn’t know who we are, either,” Abigail pointed out.

“Well,” Leah started. “If we ever start fighting over her, she’ll probably just get up and drive away.” She winked at Najia. “I think she’s capable of taking care of herself.”

“I still think a doctor would be nice to have with us.”

“I think he was genuinely a good guy,” Najia said. “He always looked out for me, even the first day we met him.” Najia hesitated. “Marlon and Gil, too.” She missed them already.

“Got it,” Leah said. “Stay away from Shane and Alex.”

She kind of missed Shane, too. There was still a chocolate bar in her bag. Najia sighed. “What about you guys?” Najia asked in an attempt to change the subject.

“I was on my way home to the city when it happened,” Leah said. “Just turned around and went the other way.”

“You didn’t have family?”

“I had an abusive ex who I really had no intention of returning to, anyway.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

Leah shook her head. “I see this as my second chance. Sometimes I wonder if I would have gone home to him, if this hadn’t happened.”

“I don’t think so,” Abigail said. “I think you would have turned right around, anyway.”

Leah smiled and looked at her feet. “Thanks, Abby.”

“You guys found each other after that?”

“Leah picked me up on the side of the road. My car broke down just outside the city as I was trying to escape.”

“I thought she was going to throw herself into the river,” Leah said.

Abigail did not respond. She looked out the window into the darkness.

“Her parents both died in the city,” Leah whispered to Najia.

“I threw out my favorite sword,” Abigail muttered. “Didn’t you say Marlon had a sword?”

Najia nodded.

“I think we should team up with him.”

“Well,” Najia said. “Sorry to disappoint you.”

Abigail crossed her arms.

“This is fun,” Leah said sarcastically. “Do you have any CDs? I brought some of mine.”

“No,” Najia said quickly. “No music.”

Leah’s hand stopped in mid air, hovering over her bag. “Okay,” she said slowly, leaning back in her seat. “Someone hate’s music.”

Najia bit her lower lip. “Sorry,” she said quietly. “Do whatever you want.”

Leah shook her head. “Nope, we don’t have to. No music.” She smiled reassuringly at Najia.

“How much longer are we gonna drive?” Abigail said, her voice on the verge of a whine.

“She gets cranky,” Leah said quietly.

“I don’t get cranky,” Abigail hissed.

“I don’t know,” Najia said with a shrug. “Until dinner.” She checked the fuel gage. She would need to find a station soon. The cans in the back were already empty.

“What about a stop at the next city?” Najia suggested. “I could use some more gas.”

“The city?” Abigail repeated. “Won’t they find us?”

Najia hesitated. “Maybe. But we won’t make it much further out here, and I don’t think we’ll find a station any time soon, either.”

“There’s a little town a few exits up,” Leah said. “May be a safer option.”

They continued to drive for another hour until they reached the exit. The headlights flashed around the exit ramp and lit their way through the empty town. The passengers were stiff as they drove through the town, uneasy, in search of a gas station. Najia pulled into the first one they found and Abigail and Leah ransacked the mart for anything they could get their hands on. She fueled up the tank, then proceeded to fill the two gas cans when an all too familiar hiss caught her attention.

Najia straightened, releasing her hold on the gas nozzle to immediately reach for her gun. She froze as she listened. The hissing wasn’t very close, but close enough to send her in a panic. The Shadow People were literally hiding in the shadows, right under her nose, and they were ready to attack.

She backed away slowly from the gas can and near the light from the headlights, but the Shadow People were quick to anticipate her movement. They swooped in around her, preventing her from reaching the safety of the light and knocking her to the ground. Najia let her arms swing desperately as they closed in around her. She shot off a couple rounds into the air and they scattered for a moment, giving her just enough time to roll away and get to her feet.

Alerted by her gun shots, Leah and Abigail ran out of the store. Leah held a pistol in her hand, ready to fend of the creatures. The Shadow People circled the three women, pushing in closer and closer, hissing loudly before bombarding them with attacks once more.

Abigail tried desperately to fend them off with her flashlight as Leah took aim, hitting two of the creatures squarely. Najia ran towards the car, but she wasn’t quick enough as another creature swooped in. She stumbled backwards, knocking the gas can over, gas spilling all around her and the car. She cursed loudly as she scrambled to her feet, flailing her arms as the creatures pressed in around her.

Abigail’s light found Najia, offering her a moment of protection as the Shadow People scattered away from the light, screeching. Najia ran to their side and the three stood back to back as the Shadow People began to close in once more, careful to avoid Abigail’s erratic light.

“Don’t shoot,” Najia muttered.

“I’m shooting,” Leah said.

“The place will blow,” Najia hissed.

“Then we better start running.”

“Oh, hell,” Abigail mumbled.

The three of them sprinted into the night, the Shadow People hissing loudly behind them. As they made their way out of the gas station, Leah took aim at the car and the spilled gas, firing off three rounds quickly. The gas ignited and flames engulfed the station quickly behind them. They could feel the heat on their backs as they just narrowly escaped. The shrieks of the Shadow People filled the silent air eerily.

“We’re not out of the woods,” Najia reminded them as they continued to run down the road. “We’ve just attracted a whole hell of a lot of attention.”

“And Leah just blew up our fucking car,” Abigail hissed.

“We’ve got plenty of cars around,” Najia said. “We can get another car.”

“Where do you expect to find a car?” Abigail shouted. “This place is a ghost town.”

“Used car dealership?” Leah pulled their wrists across the road. They ran through back yards, hopping fences, towards the old dealership sign that Leah had spotted.

“Great,” Abigail muttered. “Let’s sign the paperwork and get the keys.”

“No need,” Najia said as she quickly picked out a small SUV. The first was locked, but she moved to the next one at the end of the row, which proved to be unlocked and at their disposal. Najia slid into the seat and set to work hot wiring the vehicle.

“What a fortunate skill to have during the apocalypse,” Abigail muttered.

“I was fortunate to be with a doctor, too,” Najia reminded them.

“Well, then, please don’t leave us.”

“Keep up your sarcastic shit and I just might.”

“Enough,” Leah growled at them. “We don’t have time.”

In the distance, the familiar shrieks of the Shadow People rose through the darkness. They were drawn to the explosion at the gas station, alerted now to the human presence, and they were ready for vengeance.

Najia’s hands shook as she worked. The SUV sputtered, but did not turn over.

“Why aren’t you good at this,” Abigail yelled to her.

“I am good at this!”

“Najia,” Leah warned.

Abigail swung her flashlight across the parking lot. The cries grew louder, closer. The engine continued to sputter a few more times before it finally turned over and Najia breathed a sigh of relief. Leah and Abigail climbed in quickly and Najia floored it out of the parking lot, down the road and back toward the high way.

Najia peered through the night, catching sight of their glowing eyes as they made their way off the ramp and onto the highway. The Shadow People had found a short cut, beating the three women to the high way and cutting them off.

Najia pressed harder on the accelerator and the needle climbed up the speedometer. Leah rolled down her window, leaned out, and slid a new magazine into the gun.

“Take the wheel,” Najia yelled to Abigail. She hit the button for the moon roof and pulled herself through, taking aim with her gun as Abigail crawled over the console and into the driver’s seat.

The Shadow People scattered as the vehicle neared, escaping it’s head lights, but swarmed in quickly as Abigail attempted to spin the car around to catch them in the headlights once more. Najia gripped the side of the roof as she struggled to take aim at the dark creatures. She shot blindly into the darkness but did not seem to make contact.

“Just go,” she shouted down to Abigail. “Get us out of here.”

Abigail spun the car around once more. The tires skidded dangerously on the pavement and she lost control. The SUV careened off the road and into the desert before coming to a stop.

“Go!” Leah shouted.

Abigail slammed on the pedal once more and the SUV jolted forward, kicking dust up in their wake as they sped through. Leah and Najia continued to fire at the creatures until all they could hear was the roar of the engine.

Najia slid back into the car and fell into the back seat with a heavy sigh. Leah climbed back in, closing the window, and glared at Abigail.

“Who in the hell taught you to drive?”

“Uh, normal people who live in normal cities,” Abigail hissed.

“Just keep driving,” Najia said, suddenly exhausted from the excitement. “Drive and don’t stop.”

[the-names-hell666]

Car Crash AU

Summary: It was a perfect night. Roman and Virgil were going on a date, and Roman had something special planned. All of it is ruined as time seemed to slow. (I suck at summaries, sorry)

Word Count: 3,149

Pairing: (main) Prinxiety, (background) Logicality

Warnings: Major Character Death(s), abuse, panic attacks, hospitals, car crashes, drunk driving, shooting, heartbreak. (If I missed any, let me know!)

It gets really dark, so read at your own risk.

(If you want to be added to the taglist, just ask!)

Roman, a Senior at the University of Florida, was tapping away on the steering wheel of his brand new red sports car. His boyfriend, and hopefully, soon to be fiancée, Virgil, was sitting in the passenger seat, changing the station of the radio. The song ‘High Hopes’ from Panic! At the Disco came on and he turned up the volume. P!ATD was one of his favorite bands. Roman knew this and smiled when Virgil started to sing lightly with the lyrics. In Roman’s opinion, Virgil had the most beautiful voice when it came to something he was passionate about.

It was night out and the perfect mood for what Roman had planned.

They came to a stoplight and their light had just turned green. Roman kept going but didn’t see the car that was going 70 mph (50+ over the speed limit) about to ram into the right side of the car. He couldn’t react in time when Virgil unclipped Roman’s seatbelt and reached over to unlock the door. He did it just in time to push Roman out of the car, but before he did, he gave him a kiss. A final kiss. Roman rolled out of the car while the car still went.

Inside the car, Virgil was trying to unclip his own seatbelt, but it was locked. He looked to his right at the approaching car and froze.

Time seemed to slow for the two boys.

Virgil watched as the headlights of the other car got closer until they were hitting the side of the car.

Roman couldn’t hear anything and his vision went blurry as he watched the car his boyfriend was in get pulverized and roll over.

The crash echoed throughout the whole town.

Some people that were nearby went to help Roman stand up, but he was about ready to pass out from the surprise and sadness welling up inside him.

The world went black as he fainted.

~

There were some people on the sidewalks that had seen the car crash and the man that was shoved out of the driver seat. Some went to the side of the man, at least three called the police and an ambulance, and some brave souls went into the wreckage of red scraps and a black hood-smashed vehicle to try and help any survivors.

Women were hurrying their children inside houses or gas stations to avert their gazes.

Two men went towards the black vehicle that had flipped over once and dragged out the unconscious driver, an ugly man with a small stream of blood running down his face and possibly a dislocated shoulder.

Three other men went towards the, now flaming, red scrapped car to try to retrieve the passenger. The managed to cut his seatbelt off and carefully drag him out. The boy was a bloodied mess. His scalp was cut open, his skull cracked. His entire right side was most likely broken and maybe some of his left. He was losing a lot of blood. There were probably way more injuries, but they would leave that to the doctors once he was in a hospital.

Sirens were heard in the distance and they were approaching fast.

Five police cars and two ambulances arrived at the wreckage. Two tow trucks were right behind them.

The nurses from the ambulance put Virgil on a stretcher and loaded him into the ambulance. The other nurses went to the other man and patched him up rather quick. They set his shoulder while he was still unconscious and bandaged his head. They would have to check for a concussion and internal bleeding later. They loaded him into the other ambulance and drove him to the hospital.

Police officers talked to eye witnesses that were in the area and thanked the five men that got the two men out of the wreckage. Some police officers checked over Roman for any injuries but found that he only had some minor scratches. Roman was still unconscious, so they took him to the police station where he would explain what happened.

From what the police gathered, the red sports car was driving along at the normal speed limit and its light was green. Then, out of nowhere, a black Lincoln had come out of nowhere, way above the speed limit, ran a red light, and crashed into the red car, resulting in the wreckage.

Many people had gathered to see what was going on and silently prayed that the boy from the red car would be alright.

~

Roman awoke to a blinding light in his eyes. He squinted to see through it and blinked a couple of times. He felt like he had been pushed out of a car.

Oh, wait…

He had.

Virgil! Was his first thought.

His eyes shot open and he looked around in a panicked state.

He was in a room with a mirror on one of the white walls and a door next to the mirror. He was sitting in a steel chair in front of a steel table, but he was not handcuffed.

The door opened to reveal a lady with light blonde hair pinned back in a bun. She was in a grey business suit and black heels. She held some papers and walked forward, sitting across from Roman.

“Roman Prince?” She asked. Her voice was smooth and calming, but it did nothing to calm Roman down. Where was his boyfriend?

“Y-Yes that’s me. Where’s Virgil?”  He asked. Virgil was his main focus right now.

They lady’s eyes softened, and she reached forward to put a hand on Roman’s shaking one.

“I’m sorry to be the one to tell you, but,”

Please don’t say he’s dead…

Please… Roman thought.

“Virgil Knight is in the hospital.”

Roman felt a smidge relieved that his boyfriend wasn’t dead, but panic shot through him when he heard the word ‘hospital’.

“Hospital? Is he- Is he alright?” Roman’s voice was shaking now, and so was his body. He felt tears prick at the corners of his eyes.

“I can’t say. The doctors took him into the ER but apart from that, we haven’t heard anything.”

Roman’s heart sank. The ER?

“May I ask you a few questions? About the crash?” The lady asked.

Roman numbly nodded. He was supposed to propose tonight…

“What is your relationship with Virgil Knight?”

“He was my boyfriend, soon to be fiancée…” He trailed off.

The woman had even more pity in her eyes now. Roman didn’t want pity, he wanted to see his boyfriend.

“I’m so sorry…” The woman straightened back up. “Is that where you were going tonight? To propose?”

Roman nodded. He hung his head low and let the tears fall.

He may never get the chance to propose to his love.

~

The lady had asked more questions and Roman had cried some. She finally let him leave and had a police officer drive him to the hospital. Roman was grateful for that.

He rushed through the front doors of the hospital, startling the receptionist.

“Where is Virgil Knight?” He asked her.

The woman stuttered but regained her posture and replied.

“He is in the Emergency Room right now. If you are here to see him, I am afraid that you must wait.” The woman, whose nametag red Janet, looked up to see a tear stained face. “I’m sorry, sweetie. Would you like to call anyone?” She offered.

Roman nodded and was handed a phone. He dialed Logan’s number, knowing that if he called one, he would get two.

After two rings, Logan picked up.

Hello?

Roman just cried. His voice was racked with sobs as he tried to form words.

“L-Logan- Vir-gil- h-he- ER-“ He tried.

Logan seemed to get the message and asked for which hospital he was at.

“St. Joseph Hospital.” Roman said after trying to cease his sobs.

We’re on our way.

Roman hung up the phone and sat down on a padded chair. He cried to himself for half an hour until Patton and Logan showed up.

Patton was bawling his eyes out while Logan looked around the Waiting Room, looking for Roman.

Roman was hunched over in a chair, hot, fat tears rolling down his face. Logan went over to him, with Patton in tow, and placed a hand on Roman’s shoulder. Roman looked up, hoping to see the one person he wished to be okay, but instead faced Logan.

New tears started falling out his eyes and his face contorted into one of hurt.

Logan knew how to comfort, from the many articles he read, and started to rub circles on the crying male’s back while Patton enveloped him in a hug. Roman held on to Patton to help ground him to reality. His head was coming up with so many outcomes, good or bad, and he couldn’t stop them.

The three sat there for almost three hours, making it around 1 in the morning. Their eyes were getting droopy, but they wanted to stay awake in case there was any news on Virgil.

After another hour or so, a door near the receptionist area opened. A nurse in clean, baby blue scrubs stepped out. He looked down at the clipboard in his hands and called out, “Anyone here for Virgil Knight?”

Roman immediately stood up at the mention of Virgil. He sped walked towards the nurse.

“I am.” He said.

Logan and Patton were right behind him. “So are we.” Logan added.

The nurse looked confused for a second.

“Any family members?” He asked.

Roman looked at his shoes.

“We’re the closest thing to a family he has.”

The nurse’s eyes saddened and started leading through the doorway and down the hall. They walked for a few minutes until they ended up at a light-brown door. On the door was a nameplate. It read ‘Virgil Knight’.

Roman wanted to barge into the room but was held back by Logan and the nurse. Logan placed Roman’s hand on his chest and took a deep breath, indicating for Roman to do the same.

Roman took a deep breath and turned the doorknob.

His breath hitched at the sight of his boyfriend.

Virgil was on a white (slightly red) hospital bed. His head was bandaged and propped up with pillows. He was in a hospital gown, but his right side was completely bandaged with gauze and casts. Virgil was hooked up to many machines such as heart monitor, breathing machine, IV tube, etc.

Roman fell to his knees and sobbed some more. His tears seemed never ending.

Patton and Logan helped him up and moved him to a chair near the bed.

“He’s semi-stable, but he’ll need to be here for a while.” The nurse said.

The nurse exited the room and closed the door, leaving the four men alone.

Roman gently and shakily took Virgil’s left hand in his.

He started to sing in a broken voice. It was their song.

“You know I want you It's not a secret I try to hide I know you want me So don't keep saying our hands are tied You claim it's not in the cards Fate is pulling you miles away And out of reach from me But you're here in my heart So who can stop me if I decide That you're my destiny?

What if we rewrite the stars? Say you were made to be mine Nothing could keep us apart You'd be the one I was meant to find It's up to you, and it's up to me No one can say what we get to be So why don't we rewrite the stars? Maybe the world could be ours Tonight…”

Now, it was Virgil’s turn to sing. Roman knew it was a long shot and he didn’t expect Virgil to answer.

Virgil stayed unconscious.

~

The three stayed the night at the hospital after calling the University and telling all their teachers that them and Virgil wouldn’t be there for a while. The teachers understood but expected the three back in two weeks. Virgil would come back once he was better.

Logan went to their apartment to grab some changes of clothes and some breakfast. He went because Roman didn’t want to leave Virgil’s side and Patton was too emotional to drive.

Roman had started petting Virgil’s hand while softly singing different songs. He asked Logan to bring his guitar, so he did.

Roman played the soundtrack from ‘The Black Cauldron’, Virgil’s favorite Disney movie. Roman looked up from time to time and saw that Virgil’s hand twitched.

Roman froze.

Virgil’s eyes fluttered open a bit, but then closed again. He tried to move his right arm, but gasped in pain, and moved his left. He moved his hand, so he was shielding his eyes from the intense lighting.

Roman moved closer to the bed while Patton went to dim the lights. Logan rushed out of the room to get a doctor or nurse.

Virgil opened his eyes a bit more and looked around.

Wait…

This wasn’t his room…

Where was he?

Oh, no…

Virgil’s heartrate accelerated, and his breathing was uneven. He was on the verge of a panic attack.

Roman grabbed his left hand, gently but firm, and made symbols on Virgil’s palm. Virgil recognized the symbols as 4-7-8, his breathing technique.

Virgil tried to follow the pattern, even though one small breath hurt. His lungs hurt from the hyperventilating from earlier.

Three people burst into the room, which made Virgil go into panic mode again.

Roman moved to stand in front of Virgil and their eyes met. Roman reassured him softly that ‘It will be okay’ and ‘They won’t hurt you’, to which Virgil calmed down a bit. He was still wary of the unfamiliar people as they moved around him.

Virgil nearly lost it when they pushed Roman out of the room. He couldn’t speak so he made grabbing motions towards his boyfriend. The people, which he concluded to be doctors, still pushed him out. Two of them gently pushed Virgil to lay on the bed again. They flashed lights in his eyes, to which he squinted. They checked his pulse, blood pressure, and other things Virgil lost track of.

Virgil was zoning in and out of reality but then noticed that one of them was looking at him and moving their lips. They were trying to speak to him, but he couldn’t speak.

Did it just get darker in the room?

Why are their faces blurry?

Where’s Roman?

~

Roman tried to fight against the doctor pushing him out and Logan pulling, but it worked to no avail. He was back in the Waiting Room.

Virgil woke up.

A spark of hope lit inside Roman until it was a small flame. Roman slightly smiled.

Virgil would be okay.

He looked at Patton and Logan, then noticed another figure was in the room.

It was a man. His head was bandaged, and his arm was in a sling. He looked familia- oh! It’s him!

Roman stomped towards the man.

The man looked up surprised to see a fuming male storming towards him. He stood up to face the angry college student with a fake pity face.

Roman had tears in his eyes again, but his face showed rage.

“How-How could you?! Your light was red!” He shouted.

Logan grabbed his arm before he could maul the man.

“Our light was green! You had to stop! How-“ Roman got quieter. “Why?”

The man rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry, kid. I was drunk.”

Roman got angry again. This man wasn’t remotely sorry for what he had done. Logan was trying his hardest to hold Roman back, and Patton had joined.

The man was in a relaxed stance with a slight tension.

Logan spoke up. “If you are here to see if Virgil will press charges he won’t. He couldn’t do that to anyone.”

It was true. Virgil was a nice kid once known. He would never intentionally do something to hurt anyone, mentally, emotionally, or physically.

The tension in the man’s stance relaxed. “Nice knowin’ ya, then!” The man practically skipped out of the waiting room.

Logan and Patton were about ready to let Roman go against their better judgement. This man was an asshole.

~

Roman, Logan, and Patton had gotten word of Virgil’s condition. Apparently, he had some major internal bleeding, a major concussion, some shattered bones, and more. It was a miracle that he even woke up.

Then, the doctor said something that Roman couldn’t believe.

Virgil was in a coma.

Roman’s world fell apart.

His sweet, loving, boyfriend was in a coma.

Roman couldn’t feel anything. He was numb from the emotional pain he was in.

~

The man had walked out to his car. He had to be sure that the ‘Princey kid’ wouldn’t press charges. He was sure that the kid in the hospital bed wouldn’t make it, but he had to be sure that both people were out of the equation.

He set up a plan to kill them both.

~

Virgil saw a light. He saw old memories on the left and right of him and a light straight forward. He couldn’t go backwards, so he opted to go into the light while watching his memories.

The first time he met Roman.

Their first date.

Patton and Logan finding out about their relationship.

And all the bad memories too…

His mother and father abusing him.

His older sister abandoning him at a young age.

His mother hanging by a rope.

And more…

Virgil didn’t want to look at the memories anymore.

He started to run. He ran as fast as he could to reach that light. The light would help him, right? It would save him?

He ran into the wall of light and was met with pearl-white gates that opened for him.

He walked forward.

~

On the outside, Virgil was flatlining. The doctors tried to restart his heart. They started with CPR, but once that didn’t work, went to the defibrillators. They tried for about thirty minutes before they proclaimed him dead.

~

The doctors had told Logan first, he was the least likely to break down. Logan told Patton, then Roman.

Roman couldn’t take it, he ran. He ran until he was met with a bridge over a flowing river. The water was murky.

Roman cried. He broke down and sobbed.

No…

NO!

WHY? WHY VIRGIL? WHY NOT ME?

Roman screamed his throat sore. He didn’t notice the car approaching.

He didn’t notice the group of me exiting the car with one holding a revolver.

He didn’t care when two of the men grabbed him by the arms and pin him to the ground.

He was overjoyed when the third holding the revolver shot him straight through the head.

I’ll see you soon, mi amor.

~~~

Taglist

@grey-blogs

[deathvalleyqueen]

Her Father’s Daughter - Chapter 1

Title: Her Father’s Daughter

Raiting: R/Mature

Chapter Word Count: 1,845

AO3 Link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/13693326/chapters/31451520

Chapter One: The Long Way Home

The roads were insanity as soon as she left the city. As soon as she hit the interstate headed into Pennsylvania to head home, towards Richmond, she knew the situation with this illness must have been more serious than she had originally anticipated. Her heart sank as she realized that there was going to be no way she was going to make it home to say her goodbyes. To make things worse, the cell service had been out for the last several hours. She couldn’t even call her father to tell him. So now she sat, stuck 45 mins outside Harrisburg, Pennsylvania with not a hope left in the world.’

As she sat in the dead stop traffic she turned her engine off and rested her head on the steering wheel as she cried softly. Her hands gripped the steering wheel as cursed this damned world. She just wanted to say goodbye to her step mother, that was all she wanted but the world was not going to let her do that. As she sat in that lonely car for hours as the traffic didn’t even budge as darkness fell Jolene started to grow curious why.

She didn’t want to leave the car but as she watched a few people exit there cars and starting to talk among themselves. The fall air was chilly and with out thinking she reached inside and took out a black zip up hoodie from the back seat pulling it on and zipping it up as she watched one guy climb up onto the roof of his Jeep to try to see what was going on.

She heard hushed conversations, mothers telling their children that everything was going to be ok and not to worry. And then there were the panicked conversations between husbands and wives wondering if this really was going to be the end. Jolene couldn’t understand what could be holding traffic up like this.

She spotted a man, likely about her father’s age standing outside of his parked Honda CRV talking to whom she could only assume was his wife through the passenger window. “Excuse me, Sir…” Jo called out as she took a few steps forward. The older man looked away from his wife and smiled softly at her.

“Are you alright miss?” He asked trying to be polite.

“My cell phone doesn’t have any service.. I’m trying to get home to Virginia. My mom is dying and I gotta call my dad and let him know what is going on.” Jolene knew that most men had a hard time dealing with a woman crying so she let the tears fall down her cheek and the guy looked heartbroken.

“Have you not heard the news on the radio?” she shook her head.

“The radio in the car is busted…” She explained pointed towards the early 90’s station wagon that she was driving. The older man sighed.

“The cell service is down, the military is telling everyone to go home… rounding up anyone that’s sick and keeping them separate and safe from this outbreak. I’m sorry miss but I don’t think you are going to be able to get word to your family.” Jolene just nodded and put her hand up in thanks as she turned away trying not to lose composure. Her head was pounding from her earlier crying sessions and long hours on the road. She couldn’t stay here… she had to get off the high way while she still had a chance.

Getting back in her car she turned over the engine and start to pull off to pull a u-turn and head the wrong way up the interstate to get off at the exit just a few mile markers back. A few others were doing the same. It was tricky driving but she managed to get off on the side road and continued her trip south. Passing through small towns who seemed fairly unaffected at this point. When she would stop to get gas she always asked if there was any more news on this outbreak and all anyone said was the military was handling it.

She was a little more than hour further along where she reached a military road block. Jolene rolled her window down as the solider approached. “You’re a long way from New York miss,” The young solider said with a cocky tone in his voice.

“Well I’m trying to get home to Richmond, my step mother has cancer and she took a turn for the worse. I have been driving all day and most of the night just to get this far. “ She was trying just to be honest with the guy. “I am not sick… not been around anyone who has been sick… I’m just a daughter trying to get home to say goodbye…”

The solider looked over his shoulder. “We are really supposed to instruct travelers to the camp but just keep going. You may run into another road block but just be honest and tell them you are trying to get home. Don’t go into details… just say you are trying to get home.” He patted her roof and called out to his supervisor to let her through. Jolene gave the young solider a kind smile as she continued down the road.

She pulled off in a little state park some place in rural West Virginia around 3am when her eyes were so tired she couldn’t see straight any longer. As she curled up in the driver’s seat she just couldn’t shake the feeling like this was more than just her world falling apart. The whole damn world had lost it’s mind.

Early the next morning, as dawn broke there was a loud thud on the hood of the car that woke Jolene from her uneasy slumber. It was a man, or what was once a man she would come to learn. He was wearing a park ranger uniform he looked like a rabid dog gone mad. Jolene let out a shriek and scrambled to start the engine. “What in the actual good god damn, fuck is this shit mother fuckers.” She screamed as she flung the car into reverse to try and get the man off the hood. “Why the fuck does this shit happen to me.” She screamed as she floored the car forward flinging the man off her hood and speeding away.

“I can’t take this shit…” She said to herself as she saw the man pop up from the ground and start to chase after her. “NOPE…” She screamed speeding out on to the deserted road.

“What the actual fuck is going on in this world…” She muttered as she speed into town. She had this sinking feeling that she needed to get to the nearest store and max every credit card she had out while she still could. As she pulled into the next small town she saw a Walmart and figured it was as good as any place to start.

The parking lot seemed what it would be for any small town store like this. Once she got into the store it seemed all to normal, like they didn’t pay no mind to what was on the news. She expected the store to be crowded and the shelves to be clear. But they were still full.

Jolene wished she had her father here with her, he would know what they needed. “Think… think like dad… ugh god that’s a horrible brain to live inside of.” She groaned softly as she pushed her cart towards the outdoor section. She grabbed anything that she thought would be useful. Camp stoves, fire starters, a tent, she grabbed a couple of knifes not knowing what to expect as she made her way back to her father’s house outside of Richmond.

She grabbed water, a gps, radio and as much food she could fit in her cart. As she pulled up the register she was greeted by a warm smile from a middle aged woman. “Oh honey you aren’t scared about all this talk on the news are you?” She said with a laugh like it was all just a joke.

“I’m going camping… and you never know what is really going on till you see it with your own two eyes.” Jolene said softly as ran her first credit card through with a small smile on her face as she saw approved on the screen. “Well that still works..” She mumbled before thanking the cashier and shoving all over her items back into the cart before pushing the cart towards the ATM and pulling out her debit cards.

First she pulled out as much as she could and stuck it into her pants pocket before pushing the cart back out to her car and loading everything into the car. She quickly put in the address that she would forever remember into the new GPS that she had just purchased. She ticked off every box. “Avoid Highways… Avoid… FUCKING EVERYTHING” She tapped each button and then tossed it on her passenger seat.

She knew that this was going to be so much longer but something told her to avoid the bigger roads. It took nearly one more day of nearly continuous driving to reach her childhood home. She had seen 6 more of those strange sick people on her travels and as she pulled into the small suburban neighborhood she saw three more surrounding what looked like a fourth body.

Jolene gasped in horror as she drove past. She pulled into the quite cul-de-sac where her parents’ house was. The neighbors’ houses looked abandoned. Doors wide open, cars gone. Lives just abandoned. “What happened..” She muttered softly as she threw her car into park and jumped out of the car. Jolene raced towards the front door to find it locked. Which could have been a good thing or a bad, she didn’t know yet. Leaning down she flipped up the corner of the door mat where the spare key was still hidden. “Good old dad… hates fucking change.” She said with a half hearted chuckle as she turned the key and pushed the door open.

That comforting smell of home overwhelmed her. Everything was still just as she remembered it when she left home to move to New York just a few months before. It didn’t seem like a long time but in that moment it felt like a lifetime. Her father’s favorite sweatshirt was laying across the back of the couch. As she walked over to her she couldn’t help but slip off her black hoodie and pull on her father’s much larger sweatshirt.

Joey ran through the house and walked into the garage to find it empty. “He was probably at the hospital… he may still be there… he will come home…” She thought it best in that moment just to pull the car into the garage and go lay down. With any luck by the time she woke up her father would be there.

[roycekibby]

Hate// Stiles Stilinski

A/n: The good parts have been started in this chapter of this fanfic trust there are some things in here that would make you say what the fuck, but I can assure you that it's going to get worse after this haha.

Triggers: Bullying, Self-discrimination, self-harm, suicide thoughts (Are coming up next)

Word count: 2,001

Chapters: Part1, Part2

PayPal me: [1$] [2$] [3$] [4$] [5$] [6$] [0$]

It was a brand-new day and an early and bright morning for (y/n), she was super afraid of what was to come her way today. She didn’t know if she was going to make friends or not or if she was even going to be bullied like last time.

Since it was very early she decided to take a shower and do all her daily routines at her own pace while her father does the same.

 Her father is a cop so he had to be in at a certain time so he can be shown around the station and he was also her ride to getting to school.

 Her mother had made the three of them breakfast before the two had to leave, her dad got her some extra food for her day at school since she’s going to be there before everyone else, well at least with some of the teachers.

 When she got there, she saw how big the school was and how terrified she was going to be, but since she is here earlier than all the other students this wouldn’t be hard finding all her classes and picking out a seat if the teacher is there.

 Her dad pulled up to the front of the school as he put the car in park to look at his daughter, she was staring at the school with scared eyes.

 Her father then placed his hand on her hand as she looked at him with those wide beautiful eyes he loved so much.

 “Hey, do you want to know something my father told me when I was a kid that was new to a big school just like this one?” He asked as he looked at her with a small smile.

 “What, what did he say?” She asked him with curiosity in her eyes as she looked at him.

 “He told me to always hold my head high, even when kids picked on me to never show them your sad, afraid or hurt. And that their words mean nothing to a smart and bright mind.” He said as he gave his daughter an Eskimo kiss as he then placed his forehead to hers.

 “Be a strong sweetheart, daddy will always be here for you.” He said as he gave her a kiss on the cheek as she looked at him with a smile and hugging him before she got out the car.

 “Thanks, dad, have I ever told you I love you?” she asked him with a smile.

 “Yes, plenty of times sweetheart. See you after school.” He said as she waved to him while blowing him a kiss like she always did when she was a kid until now.

 He drove off to work as (y/n) turned around to look at the school before her, she took in a deep breath and walked in.

 She could see that there were a few kids there which were only there for an early bird class or practice for a sports team they were on.

 (y/n) walked to the front desk where a lady with red her sat on the phone talking to someone who she assumes that it’s her child.

 “Lydia, I don’t have time for this, I have to go.” She hangs up the phone and looks up at (y/n) and smiles, “you must be the new student (y/n) (l/n).” she asked with an even brighter smile at seeing a new face.

 “Yes, umm… is this where I get my schedule?” she asked with her head down slightly.

 “Yes, it is and here is your schedule.” She handed (y/n) her schedule to let her look at it to see she has nothing but advanced honor classes.  Oh, did I forget to mention that even though she is a shy girl and abused and scared by everyone in her last school she still managed to keep her grades?

 “Now, since there is no one here to show you around to your classes and to help you find your locker, I guess I can do it.” She said as she got up from her desk.

 Miss. Martine had shown (y/n) around and the school and all her classes and all the teachers except for one which was Coach Finstock that was on the field training his kids for the next game.

 (y/n) was already shown all her seats except for his, she had put her bag in her locker and pulled her books from her locker. She had gone to the field to hear yelling of a coach who was mad at his players for missing a pass or failing to catch the ball in their stick things that they were holding.

 She sat down on the bleachers and watched the boys and one girl practice, she never seen a game like this let alone know what was going on. But, she knew every time that the ball goes into a net it was a goal or a touchdown or something like that.

 The coach was getting very fired up at some guy named Greenburg, and at how he is terrible and that he couldn’t shoot a ball or even catch one.

 Coach then told them to take a break because he was so pissed at his team at their downfall, all the boys ran over to the bleachers where their things were as they drank water and energized themselves.

 While she was at the top of the bleachers eating the food, her dad had bought her while she waited for the practice start up again.

 She could hear the boys and girl complain about the way the coach was so unfair and that he doesn’t give them a break.

 “Do he is such an asshole.” One of the boys said as he had dropped his helmet on to the ground taking a water bottle and chugging down the water that he had.

 There were two boys that stood out to her as they made their way to the bleachers as they took off their helmets.

 And that’s when she knew, she saw those boys before at the gas station when she first got there. One thing she didn’t know was that she was going to school with them.

 She saw the one with the uneven chin walk up to the only girl on the team and kiss her on the lips and there was another girl that was on the bleachers that ran up to the boy with the moles on his face and kissed him.

 So far (y/n) could see that they were the only good players on the team, they sat next to their friends and girlfriends as they talked and laughed.

 Coach FInstock had happened to spot (y/n) on the bleachers and walked over to her to talk to her. His team looked at him and watched him head up the steps to the girl that was sitting down on the top bleacher.

 He sat next to her and gave her a hug and the kiss on the forehead, everyone on the team was shocked, two of the boys she met at the gas station looked at the girl closely to see that it was the girl that they met at the gas station.

 Stiles grabbed onto Scott's arm quickly and looked at him with his mouth open as he began to speak to his friend who looked at him with shocked eyes.

 “Scott! That’s the girl we met at the gas station two days ago, the Harley girl!” Stiles says as now all the team players and their girlfriends were listening in on their conversation.

 “Stiles I'm pretty sure she has a name,” Scott says with a smile on his face.

 “Yeah of course she does but we didn’t ask for her name so I’m stuck with calling her Harley.” He said as he went back to looking at the girl who was holding his attention and she didn’t even know it.

 His girlfriend looked at the girl then her boyfriend the same with Scott’s girlfriend as they both were getting very jealous of the girl that they were staring at and they didn’t even know her name.

 Coach Finstock was sitting next to (Y/n) as she handed him an apple pie her dad had bought her, the coach had kissed her on the side of her head as they talked about her move in.

 “So, little cousin… How are you liking it so far here in Beacon Hills?” He asked her as he ate his apple pie.

 “To be honest, I didn’t even know where I was until you told me just now.” She said with a giggle as he looked at her with a shocked face that then turned into a smile as he bumped her with his shoulder lightly.

 “I don’t blame you, this place is weird as hell.” He said with a laugh as he looked at his team that was talking amongst themselves.

 “By any chance did you get your schedule yet?” He asked her as she nodded her head and gave him the paper.

 He said that she had all honors classes and that she was also in his class at the end of the day, and that was his worst class of the day because of the students he had in there. But, he won’t let that stop his little cousin from learning.

 “Looks like you have my class last and the last class I have at the end of the day is terrible it's practically filled with idiots but, I’m not going to let that get in the way of your learning even though I know you better than all the students in every class I have.”

 He finished his pie and brushed the crumbs from his hands and rubbed her head as he had to get back to teaching and training his team. As he blew his whistle and ordered all the players onto the field all of them got up except for Stiles girlfriend who still sat on the bleachers.

 She looked onto the field where two boys were looking at her, once they saw that they had gotten her attention they both waved at her. Well, one waved normally and the other jumped up and down and waved like if he was on drugs which made her laugh and gave back the same wave that made them both laugh and smile at her.

 While they were running drills both Scott and Stiles were showing off to try and impress the girl that they met at the gas station the girl that Stiles call Harley, every time they would make a shot or block a team player for making a shot they would look at her and smile when she cheered them on.

 By the time they were done practicing it was almost time for the school to start their classes cousin Bobby let the players go early and let them go change he went to (y/n) and told her that he had saved a special spot in his class for her and that he would see her later.

 (y/n) had grabbed her things and was about to head back into the school when someone tripped her making her fall done the bleachers as she hit her head hard on almost every step.

 (Y/n) groaned and cried in pain as the throbbing pain in her head was hurting her and she could feel a wet substance dripping from the side of her head.

 Looking at her hand she can see it covered in the blood of her own, she knew that she didn’t fall by accident she knew that someone had tripped her.

 (y/n) looked around for the person who did this, just to look back on the bleachers and see the girl that kissed Stiles on the lips sitting there with a smirk on her face. And at that moment she knew that it was going to be just like her last school all over again.

[pocketsizedsam-blog1]

A Christmas Nightmare

Jared x reader 

 Word count: 2 541

 Warnings: pregnancy, car accident

 'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the bunker, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse, the stockings were hung by the chimney with care, in hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there, the children were nestled all snug in their beds, while visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads. Just kidding! It was late at night and you were sure as hell not asleep. 

The bunker didn't have mice and you didn't believe in Santa Claus. There were no stockings and no kids... quite yet. It was the same as any other Christmas, you would get nothing you took an interest in and you had to spend your money on other people. This Christmas was different in a way, For you are bearing a child for the man you loved. You and Sam were inseparable. You two had only been dating for five months when you found out you were pregnant! Sam- well he was secretive, at first, but he confessed to all the secrets he had kept about his past and his profession. "A hunter?" You looked him straight in the face. "I figured you were some black ops guy.. or, or a spy?!?! What do you hunt? Moose?" "Wendigos. Demons. Anything that goes bump in the night." "What is a... 'Wendigo?'" You cocked your head to the side, in confusion and disbelief. He chuckled at your question and continued to explain, "Wendigos are former humans whose cannibalism has transformed them into a creature with superhuman strength and speed that feasts on human flesh." "That uh-" You choked out. "That sounds terrible!" You took a couple of seconds. "Monsters are real..." You slowly started to recover from what Sam had just said ever so plainly. "My brother and I... get rid of monsters that hurt people." He pulled you into his ams and held you close.  His body towered a whole foot and four inches over your petite body. You stood at just five feet tall.  The sappy Christmas movie played in the bunker's living area. Sam and Dean had previously strung Christmas lights up for you. Speaking of Sam and Dean? Where were they? Certainly not with you! They were out saving the world again. Even if this time it was just a single spirit. You sat on the couch in your fuzzy pajama's, wishing Sam was here to cuddle with you. You started rubbing your baby bump in a circular motion as you cried along with the movie, even though you had seen it seven times since December started and you hated it with a burning passion. "Are you hungry baby?" You cooed to the bump. "Say 'Yeah, mommy! Food is a great idea!'" You giggled at your own foolishness as you pulled yourself up off the couch. "Oh, I'm so not ready to be a mom-" You groaned, but quickly cut yourself off as you rummaged through the cupboards. "No cookies!" You cursed at yourself for the idea. Sam would killed you if anything bad happened to you! But a pregnant woman needs, what a pregnant woman needs! The store was only ten minutes down the road... What bad could happen?  ~ "It could be Krampus." Sam suggested, his eyes wandering off, longing to be home, snuggled down in the nice warm blanket of his bed with you and your baby curled into him. "The Christmas spirit is getting to your head, Sammy! You remember what Bobby said!" Dean laughed at his younger brother. "It's just a vengeful spirit!" Dean was annoyed at the lack of attention he had from his brother.  "Look, the quicker we get this case over and done with, the sooner we can get back to Y/N. Salt and burn the bones! BOOM! Case solved." "When is anything ever as simple as that anymore?"  Sam grumbled. "I'm going to miss my first Christmas with Y/N and as a father-to-be!" "Well technically you're not missing it as a father-to..." "You know what I mean, Dean!" Sam cut him off angrily. "I shouldn't have come with you!" "Thanks for that, Sam! Ditching your only brother- On Christmas!" "I'm gonna have a family, Dean! I'm ditching Christmas with them! I've spent what... Thirty Christmas's with you? I was going to propose to Y/N tonight! My plans went down the drain when you mentioned mysterious deaths halfway across the country from her- from them!" Sam raised his voice as he felt himself getting angrier. Dean honestly didn't know what to say. He had no idea Sam had plans. Sam hadn't anticipated the case lasting so long. "I'm sorry, Sam I-" Dean had been interrupted, yet again. This time by Sam's phone ringing. "Hello?" Sam answered tiredly. "Sam? It's Alanis... Y/N's best friend.." Alanis took a long shaky breath. "It's [Your/Nickname]- She's not doing so good." "What? Why?" Sam shot up nervously,  grabbing the thin sheets of the motel room bed out of anger.  "She was in an accident. Drunk driver. I'm at the hospital now." "A-and the baby?" Sam's throat had gone dry and he suddenly forgot how to talk. "I'm not sure yet, Sam... When can you get here? She needs you. This must be a nightmare for you, Sam, I'm sorry. Nobody wants to hear that any day, let alone on Christmas!" It was going to take Sam at least eight hours to drive home. And how was he going to get there? There was no way Dean was going to leave this case unfinished and they only had one car between them. "Are you an idiot? What kind of brother do you think I am? She's my family now too, Sam! We're going to go together." It didn't take long before the two of them were on the road. The long journey back to Lebanon, Kansas had begun. Dean insisted his younger brother get some rest, but there was no way Sam was going to get any sleep. The love of his life could be dying and he wasn't there for her." "I'm never gonna forgive myself, Dean! It's my fault! I should've been there!" Sam hung his head as he ran his fingers through his hair. "Did you hit your pregnant girlfriend with a car? No, Sam, You didn't! You shouldn't have to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders alone. Talk to me." Dean offered, slightly aggravated with Sam. "There is nothing to talk about, Dean! My girlfriend! The woman I love, who is pregnant with our child, was in a car accident with a drunk driver and I wasn't there to protect her. End of story." Sam rested his head against the cold windows of his brother's 1967 Chevrolet Impala. "Can you just drive and keep your mouth shut?"  Dean huffed and swiftly flicked on the radio. Lightning Crashes  by Live played. Sam could't bear to hear the lyrics "Lightning Crashes. A new mother cries." Especially not if you wouldn't be there to be a new mother. Sam furiously changed the channel. Another song that Sam couldn't stand came on the radio. He decided it would be better just to not listen to the radio. After a few hours of driving in the wee hours of the morning, Dean had almost fallen asleep at the wheel. He decided to pull over at the nearest gas station to stretch his legs and get a cup of coffee.  "Are we home?" Sam startled awake. "No, no, not yet, I had to stop and stretch my legs... Get a coffee so I won't fall asleep." "Let me drive." Sam offered. "You need a break." "No, Sam, it's okay. I'll drive, you need the rest." Sam protested but Dean hopped back in the drivers seat. The boys didn't have time to go to the bunker by the time they got back to Lebanon. They drove straight to the hospital, Where your best friend was waiting for them.  "Dean! Sam! You're here!" Alanis smiled weakly.  "Where's Y/N?" Sam worried.  "All I know is that she's in surgery. The doctors won't tell me anything else." Alanis sighed, scratching her forehead.  "I'm gonna go find someone who will tell me." Sam growled.  He left, leaving Alanis and Dean alone. She slid her arm around Dean's back and laid her head on his shoulder.  "You didn't tell him about us right? Sam doesn't need that right now." "I didn't get the chance." Dean kissed her forehead.  A doctor approached them.  "Family of Y/N Y/L/N?" The doctor inquired. "Sort of," Dean started off. "I'm her boyfriend's brother and this is her best friend."  Alanis pulled away from Dean when she seen Sam emerge from another corridor.  "Oh, speak of the boyfriend, here he is!" She smiled. The doctor turned to Sam and shook his hand.  "I'm Dr. Cutter." She smiled up at the man who stood several inches taller than her. "Sam Winchester." His voice was shaky.  "Congratulations, dad! When we rushed Y/N into surgery, we were hoping we wouldn't have to deliver the baby, butY/N was already in labor when she arrived. The baby was in a state of shock where we believed it was an unsafe environment for your child. We conducted an emergency c-section in the OR and Y/N gave birth to a tiny little mite. She was two pounds three ounces. But don't worry, we have her under our close care and she's rather healthy!" "She? We had a girl? I have baby girl?" Tears pricked Sam's eyes.  "Congratulations, Sam!" Dean placed a hand on Sam's shoulder and sent a smile his way. "Y/N is out of surgery and I'm going to run you through her injuries." As the three walked with the doctor, She explained all the injuries to Sam. "She has a left shoulder injury. It is dislocated. She has a torn ligament in the neck which will cause her some discomfort. Herniated disks are quite common in side-impact accidents. We done surgery on that. She has a concussion that we are going to take extra precaution with, but we expect she will make a full recovery!" Dr. Cutter brought them to the NICU to see yours and Sam's baby. The three looked in through the glass.  "And here is your baby girl!" Dr. Cutter waved Sam over to the door.  "She needs a name daddy!" Alanis punched Sam's arm lightly.  "May-maybe I should wait for Y/N to wake up... I'm sure she'd like to have a say in what we name her."  Alanis nodded. "She'd love that."  A nurse paged Dr. Cutter. "Sam? Y/N's awake and She's asking for you!" Sam nodded and followed Dr. Cutter to your room. Dean and Alanis stayed at the neonatal Intensive care unit, watching their niece through the glass. Sam took a seat next to your bed. "Sam? Wha- What happened? Where am I?" "You were in a car accident. You're at the hospital, baby!" Sam brushed a bit of hair back out of your face. "I was in a-" You gasped. "But the baby! Sam, is the baby okay?" "She's okay. In the NICU but she's okay." He smiled, cupping your cheek.  "She? A baby girl!" You exclaimed. "What did you name her?" "I didn't. I wanted to wait for you!" "Blaire. I like Blaire!" You smiled.  "Blaire? Isn't that a boy's name?" Sam chuckled. You spelled it out for him. "It's unisex, asshol- gah." You winced a little.  "Hey, hey take it easy! We can name her Blaire." "Blaire Mary."   A Big smile crept onto Sam's face. You knew his mother meant a lot to him, her being gone and all. He held her much smaller right hand in his bigger ones.  "Y/N." He started off shakily. "From the day I met you, you've been the love of my life. We had gotten close, and when you said yes for that very first date, my heart skipped a beat and i'm hoping you'll say yes again. I honestly didn't think we would last, I was always gone on hunts. But you stayed! I once r-read there are only three things you should change about a girl. Her address, her opinion on men and he last name. I've already changed two of those and now, I want to change another. Y/N Y/L/N..." He let go of your hand and fumbled nervously at this box that was nestled in his coat pocket. He opened the sleek black box, revealing an absolutely beautiful ring inside. "Will You marry me? I-I was going to ask you before but then Dean fucked up my plans-" "Of course I'll marry you!" You giggled and sniffed as you tugged at his hand, pulling him closer for a kiss.  There was a small, single diamond in the center of the silver band. Sam carefully slid the ring on her ring finger, making sure he didn't hurt you in any way.  You two kissed passionately! You had butterflies in your stomach just like it was the first time you two had kissed. Just like the first time he made love to you.  "Now, take me to see our daughter, my Prince!" You giggled.  "Anything for you, short stuff!"He smiled, getting a wheel chair and lifting her into it. "I could walk you know." She huffed. "Uhh. No! You just had a c-section and a surgery on your back! Plus, I like pushing you around."  "Good to know!" You smiled back at him as he pushed you to the NICU.  "There she is!" Sam cooed.  You were surprised that Alanis was there. When you arrived at the hospital, you were very disoriented, you thought you had seen her, but you weren't sure. "You stayed?" You smiled at Alanis. "Of course I did! You remember me being here? You were pretty out of it..."  "Well, I didn't know if it was actually you... Or if I was just seeing things."  Alanis laughed at you.  "Have you been here all by yourself?" You worried. "You could've gone home... got some rest!" "No, no. Dean kept me company!" She shot Dean a smile as he wrapped an arm around her shoulder. "Oh... You two?" You said sarcastically. "I would've never guessed!" "You knew?" Dean looked at you, cocking his head to the side. "Of course I knew! Sam did too, You guys weren't exactly private people. When Dean jacks off, he moans your name." You whispered. Alanis started to blush.  "Also you tend to leave your panties a lot." You teased your friend. "What? I know what your panties look like!" "Anyways..." Alanis changed the subject, leaning into Dean. "Did you name the baby yet?" "We did, actually." Sam smiled. "Blaire Mary Winchester!"  A year ago, You, nor Sam... Nor Dean had believed in love. Now they had each other! Dean found somebody who could understand why he would have to leave a lot, and you loved Sam for who he was. He didn't have to hide the fact that he was a hunter. This Christmas nightmare turned into one of the best Christmas's the four of them had ever had.

[johnjohnkook]

If You Were // MiniCat

BASED OFF “WHEN YOU’RE GONE” BY AVRIL LAVIGNE

If you were to mention Craig around Tyler, his whole mood would shift, and he would light up. Craig’s honey-laced tone ran through the giant’s mind all the time, and it was one he could never forget, no matter what he was doing. His eyes so green and inviting, Tyler could drown staring into them. 

His lips, however, they were Tyler’s favorite. They felt like Heaven pressed against his own, the inside of his mouth open vulnerable like it’s the prey to the predator that’s Tyler’s tongue. He first kissed Craig in Illinois when he came out to stay from L.A. It was under a red maple tree in a fountain park. Tyler joked that the tree was Craig’s long lost brother and Craig stood on his toes and shut him up with a kiss. Ever since, Tyler loved his lips on his.

In June, Tyler interrupted Craig’s movie and asked, “You wanna go watch Pluto Nash?” Craig howled with laughter–because he had told Tyler when he was a teenager, his boyfriend at the time took him to see Pluto Nash and Craig actually blew him off in the theater, so it became code for “You wanna suck me off?”–and Tyler grumbled and smacked him in the back of the head. Craig stuck his tongue out and continued his movie.

If you were to ask Tyler if he was single, he would say yes. However, everyone knew better. Craig was his, even if he was too stubborn to admit it. Tyler was Craig’s too, even if Craig was too shy to say anything. They always were not far from each other, and to anyone who gave a quick glance, they’d seem nothing more than close friends, but it was so much more and so unsubtle.

Tyler kept to himself; it’s just how he is. He bottled up his feelings up and tried to fix his problems himself. Craig is the only one who has ever managed to get him to open up, and that was the first time they ever slept together. It felt euphoric and relieving to Tyler, and they did it again and again until Craig found himself practically living with the older boy.

Their friends were not stupid enough to question Tyler and ask him if they were a thing, but Tyler would just laugh and change the conversation. They rarely showed affection in public, and both seemed fine with how they were.

If you were to ask Tyler if he ever got angry, he would yell right in your face. He always got into arguments, most likely the consequence for bottling up his emotions. Therefore, fights with the younger man were loud, harsh, and violent. Tyler promised he would never struck Craig, but he did throw and break things.

Many of the arguments started from Tyler. Tyler sometimes would come from work ticked the fuck off, and Craig, being the caring boy he is, would do anything to make the older feel better, and Tyler’s rage would get the best of them, especially when it cost him his job.

Tyler has broken a lot of things from throwing them in pure rage, and Craig would shout insults that he never meant in return. They would always makeup with either Tyler taking the boy out or a steamy night in the bedroom, or even somewhere between. 

The two even had an argument so brutal, Craig left Tyler for three weeks before they finally apologized to the other and spent the rest of that day cuddling on the couch, watching sappy movies, and making up for lost time.

If you were to ask Tyler if he ever hurt someone, he’d ignore you and change the subject. Tyler and Craig never had a label. When they were out with their friends, they hung out like they have never been intimate between the sheets. 

Tyler really messed up in October.

During an argument, Tyler slapped Craig right across the face. Not only did he hurt Craig, he broke his promise–that hurt Craig more. Craig left him that day, without a word, and Tyler didn’t blame him. 

Craig and Tyler were never the same. Craig eventually moved out of America and back across the world, and Tyler lost respect from his friends for the longest time. Tyler was alone again.

If you were to ask Tyler about the springtime of 2015, he’d show the biggest smile ever to be seen. Craig was gone for a year and a half before he ran into Tyler again on an April afternoon at a convenient store in Illinois. Tyler was a mess, but Craig seemed to be doing well.

They caught up after Tyler invited him out for coffee. Craig was only in Illinois for a week, and that brought Tyler down, but he was glad to see Craig and hear his voice again. He thought he made a stupid mistake when he brought Craig to the same fountain park. Craig felt a sense of nostalgia.

Craig had let it slip, and he knew he shouldn’t. “I miss you.”

Tyler smiled and responded by pressing Craig against that very tree and pressed their lips together for the first time in a long time.

They made love that night.

If you were to ask Tyler about September 15th, he’d tell you that was the day his heart broke. Craig loved Tyler and Tyler loved Craig, but neither have ever said the words. Instead it was “I miss you,” when Tyler left for work or when Craig had to fly out to the United Kingdom, they called every night just to say “I miss you.”

Craig was gone for a month–a long, torturing month–in the United Kingdom. On September 14th, the day before Craig was due home, Tyler planned a romantic evening and spent his money on gifts for Craig, the most important one being a gold band. He was going to propose to Mini. He was going to take him out to the zoo because Craig loved animals, and then, he wanted to take him out to eat at Craig’s favorite restaurant, and finally, they were going to drive up to the tallest hill that allowed trespassing and he planned to propose to him there, under the stars.

He was so excited and nervous, he couldn’t sleep. Instead, he called Craig and they talked for hours until Tyler started to fall asleep on the phone and barely heard Mini whisper, “See you tomorrow, piggy.”

Craig never made it to Illinois.

Tyler waited and waited and waited, but Craig still hadn’t came. He had glanced over his appearance many times, still very nervous, and by the time it was five in the evening, he was so worried, he was paranoid.

His phone rang and it was Craig’s mother. She was sobbing.

“He’s gone.”

He got an airplane ticket to Nebraska and planned to drive the rest of the way. However, he only made it halfway through Iowa simply because he was in the wrong place at the wrong time. He was on the right side of the highway, driving north when a car was struck by a semi-truck on the opposite side. The collision drove the car to the left and hit his car from the left side, and since he had just taken off his seatbelt before the crash to get ready to pull into the nearby gas station, he was flung against the passenger side door and was severely injured. He was barely breathing when the medics came and he was gone before they made it to the hospital.

And Tyler was heartbroken, way more than the time when Craig left because this time there was no chance Craig was coming back.

Tyler cried for days. He wouldn’t do anything but lie on his bed and cry into Craig’s pillow. Occasionally, he’d pick up the velvet box and cry harder at the golden band with ‘My Mini’ carved into the inside. 

The clothes Craig left, Tyler never touched them. The ones on the floor, the ones in the hamper, the ones in the closet, they stayed there because Tyler couldn’t bare to move them. Tyler was broken and empty. Everything reminded him of Craig, and he wished he could hold him again.

When Tyler flew out to the United Kingdom for the funeral, Mrs. Thompson gave him a folded piece of paper.

“He kept a book here for when he comes that’s filled with how he feels,” she explained, “like a diary.”

It was a sketch of himself as a pig/man hybrid with “To Tyler, my piggy” scribbled at the bottom. Tyler bit back tears before flipping it over and reading the back.

Tyler,

I miss you like fucking crazy, you know? That’s pretty much why I’m writing. I miss you like so much. I’ve already packed my things for tomorrow. I’m so excited to come home to you.  I want to marry you, Tyler. I know we’ve never talked about us, but as long as I’m with you, I don’t care. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I know that you’ve made mistakes, but so have I, and I want you for the rest of my days because I am so completely, hopelessly, crazily in love with you. 

Forever yours, 

your Mini

If you told Tyler that Craig would want him to be happy, he’d laugh sadly and say, “I’d do anything for him.” Months after Craig’s tragic passing, Tyler wasn’t any better, but at least he found motivation to leave his house. Still, he never touched Craig’s things; he left them the way he had did.

 “I miss you,” Tyler found himself whispering into the night air one night as he lied on the hood of his car as he stared up at the stars on the tallest hill in his town. The ring that was supposed to be on Craig’s left ring finger was instead on a chain around Tyler’s neck. He held it in his hand as he looked up at a star that was shining ever so brightly in the sky and whispered with a smile on his face, “My Mini.”

[bewaretheindigotruth]

(silent hill inspired)

Indigo watched as the scenery went by quickly, the green and brown mixed together as they drove towards their destination. Looking at her family, they all looked towards the front. Not looking at each other, just staring. She felt something was off and went to talk and realized that she couldn't speak, not a word. Her parents turned down a road that was unnamed, there was a giant cliff at the end of it. They kept driving and driving, never stopping once.

Struggling with her seatbelt and the door, Indigo tried to get it open and jump out and take her sibling with her, not wanting them killed in the crash. The door refused to budge and stayed locked, so she decided to open the window, grabbing her siblings and maneuvered out the window. But her siblings pushed against her, refusing to leave the car. With all the struggling, it caused Indigo to fall out the window, and tumble against the cement.

Scars and blood covered her, pain filled her limbs. As she watched in despair as her family went over the cliff. Her screams echoed the hills as she cried for hours until someone heard her cries. Police arrived and they took her statement about everything before the crash and their demise down the cliff.

"Indigo," she heard someone saying her name, in the distance. She tried to ask who was calling her, but no one even knew what she was talking about and went on asking their questions as if they couldn't hear what she was saying. She continued to answer questions. But the voice came again suddenly and unexpectedly.

"There again! Did you hear it?" she asked again, desperately. Trying to get someone to believe her. No one heard it. She felt like she was going crazy, when suddenly her eyes went sluggish and she fell to the side and everything went dark.

She quickly opens her eyes by the feeling of shaking against her arm. Looking to her left, she realized that her brother, Remy, was shaking her awake. Slowly, her recollection slowly comes back to her.

She was asleep.

But it felt so real and the feelings felt genuine. The feeling of being alone, the pain in her limbs, and the feelings of pain filling her entire core. It felt real. Looking towards the front, she realized they stopped at a gas station. They possibly stopped along the way, while on the trip to Silent Hill. The resort area that her parents suggested going when the new came on about it days ago.

The nightmare still fresh in her mind, she looks from her surroundings to her siblings beside her. Out of instant reaction, she gathers her brother and sister tightly in her arms, causing them to whine immensely. They tried to get her arms off them, only serving it to get tighter in response.

"Indi! Why are you doing this?" Remy exclaimed, clearly uncomfortable with the sudden hug from his older sister. Letting them move away, they realized Indigo was crying. Before they got a chance to ask what was wrong. She quickly cleared her tears when she saw two figures coming to the car.

"Were you crying?" Her mother asks curiously. Not trusting her voice, Indigo just shakes her head in denial as she looks out the window. Watching as the lights went by and the calming feeling of the car as it starts to move, slowing her anxiety a bit as she relaxed against the seat.

Time went by as they started to continue on their way towards Silent Hill, quite the whole way there. No one spoke a word, and Indigo started to get nervous, thinking the dream was looping again. But they arrived at their destination.

Silent hill.

Everything fades as it goes dark. The lasting sight is of the sign of Silent Hill, and the fog that set in the moment they entered the town. The silence that followed the sounds of crying and screams entered the mind as it was scared awake.

Indigo woke up in a sweaty mess, her hair matted to her head, clothes sticking against her skin. She panted heavily as she coped with the dream she just witnessed again for the 5th time since it happened. It's only been a month since Silent Hill and it still feels like it was yesterday. Looking at the clock and sighed as it said 6;30 am.

Rubbing her arm, remembering the obvious burn mark was there, covering her body were millions of scars. All she immensely hates more than others. Scratching at the mark, the pain brings her back from the memories and thoughts of what happened before it started.

Today isn't a day to dwell over that, today was the first day of school. Her aunt thought it would be best to have her to move to her house, away from any unwanted memories. So it was her idea to start her into the local school here in Athens, Ohio. A way of a distance away from her home of West Virginia.

She groggily got up and gathered her things to go to take a shower. When walking into the bathroom, she gets a flash of something burst into her face, a flash of a creature - a fiery flame creature with horns and a wicked smile passed through her mind. This caused her to scream loudly and fall to the floor. Suddenly she heard a pair of footsteps come running down the hallway and grab her by the shoulders

Screaming again, she thrashed around and slammed at the arms holding her, but they wouldn't budge. They just hugged her tightly, then finally she heard the calming voice of her aunt, Dianna. Relaxing from her tense position on the floor to lay against her aunt, seeming to suck in the warm and calm down enough for her emotions to set in. Silently sobbing her heart out, her aunt decided to ask; "do you want to just stay home? I can call and say you need another day?"

"No" Indigo said a bit too quickly. "I can handle school, I just.. was caught off guard" she hesitated a bit. Not wanting to stay home and remember everything all over again.

Sighing, her aunt agreed, knowing how hard it was for her niece, being cooped up all day to think about what happened that one fateful day in Silent Hill. Deeming Indigo okay enough that she wont have another breakdown, she got up to help Indi up.

She quickly thanked her aunt and walked into the bathroom. Time went by as the water washed away whatever panic came over her, and any nervous ticks that she had about starting a new school.

Walking out, and to her room, she grabs her bag and books. Turning to leave, she noticed the covers and removed them, placing them in the dirty clothes basket, setting them by the door for later. After that, she turned and walked out the door.

She walked down the hall and down the stairs. Seeing her aunt washing the dishes and her uncle sitting there, reading the newspaper. She walks in and sits down at the table across from her uncle, Andy.

"Hey Indi," Andy said as he flips the paper to the other page. Her aunt comes over smiling, hugging her niece, giving a small good morning. Before going back to washing dishes.

"How did you sleep, Indi?" she stopped, knowing that was a stupid question, she turned back to apologize. But Indigo beat her to it and said it was fine and just waves off the question easily.

"That's okay Aunt Dianna, don't need to apologize. It's a habit." just waving off any apology that is thrown at her. Not fazed in the slightest. She smiles at her the smallest smile. Telling that she was bothered by it but didn't want to say anything about it. Looking at the clock, she realized that she'll be late to school if she didn't hurry.

"Oh! It's 7, we're gonna be late!" She exclaims and gathers all her stuff and rushes out the door, her aunt dropping everything and walking behind her, getting into the car. Indigo looked down the road, seeing three people come out of their home, catching eyes with one individual. He looks kinda cute.

Indigo might like it at this school after all.

[sistercalder]

March 12, 2018

GOODWEEK!

I did get your Valentines package!!! Thanks so much!  I will keep my eye out for other ones, Thanks! This week has been crazy good.  Went to NASA, a woman prayed in tongues, got flirted with from a guy named pooney, new companion, and we got 2 more people on date to be baptized! We started it out at NASA which was really fun to go out and see the sights.  We went into the mission control room... the same one that landed people on the moon and we saw the original equipment.  The tour guide was this old guy and the way he explained this room made us all feel so honored to be looking at that exact room.  I leaned over to the sister sitting next to me and said, “They need to send this guy to the sacred grove to do tours.” 

First off, back in November/ early Dec.  We went to Chick-Fil-A with my trio of first companions and as we walked out, this guy in a truck drove up to the companion that was backing us out and he asked If I was dating anyone.  Ok now fast forward to this past tuesday.  Tuesday, we went to the gas station to fill up before our lesson and as I was standing there a guy came up to me and said, “I think I saw you at Chick-Fil-A in Lake Jackson.  I said, “you’re probably right because I was serving in that area.”  He told me that he was the truck driver that asked my friend if I had a boyfriend and my mind immediately thought, “What are the chances that we would end up in the same place again.”  So, my comp and I got him to give us his address and we sent the elders over to teach him. 

Then we went to teach Edna. Edna is the investigator who comes to church every week for the past three months.  The sisters asked her to be baptized and she said she was already, so we have explained very simply several times about the priesthood.  We taught the gospel of Jesus Christ and had a conversation of her past experiences and I was super blunt.  It’s just frustrating because the way she answers questions makes us think that she still doesn’t get it but she keeps saying that she understands.  Anyway, I didn’t even ask for her to be baptized and she said that it is something she is planning to do.  So we set her date out to May 5. 

We also went to teach a bible request, Carol, that we had met briefly in the past.  Sister Jansen asked her to pray in tongues because she wanted to see what that was like before she went back to temple square.  Now I have to somehow explain to Carol that that’s not a real thing........ Then I spent the night in Memorial because I dropped off my comp and then picked up my new companion the next day.  Let’s just say, I am sooooooooo grateful for my area.  They have cockroaches there and it’s just not as happy as Silverlake.  I was grateful to pack my bags and leave the next morning.  My new companions name is Sister Dale.  She is from Georgia and has been at Temple Square.  I think we will get along really well.  Her first night, we had Cinthia drop off her son, Darwin, to Mutual and then had a lesson with Cinthia. We taught the restoration and she just understood everything.  Towards the end, she kept saying, your church is just soo different. She started crying and we found out that Cinthia knows it’s true and she is afraid of what her baptist friends will think when she leaves.  She committed to being baptized on April 7th!  

A few weeks ago, we went over to visit a family who is baptist but the wife, Jamie, is friends with ALL of our relief society.  Jamie’s kids go to all of the activites and will be going to girls camp this week with the ward.  So when we went to visit, as we left, Jamie said, “Y’all should come and give us a message. I’m baptist and I don’t plan on changing but I’m just curious.”  So we set an appt on Saturday and on Wednesday, we got a call from a lady in the ward saying, “So I heard you’re teaching Jamie! Don’t ask her to be baptized on the first lesson!!”   haha.  Then, we kept getting more texts from ladies in the ward saying, “I’ve been praying for this for a long time. Good luck.   Ok, so no pressure.  This lesson just has to be perfect! “   I was a nervous wreck!  It turned out pretty good though.  We asked why Jamie invited us to come teach them and she said it’s because her mormon friends are better people than some of her baptist friends and she just wants to know why.  We had invited one of her good friends to come teaching with us.  Pretty much, my companion, Sister Hawks, Jamie and I, all cried in our lesson.  I’m pretty sure the husband and kids think we are all pretty emotional women.  

Well, thanks for all of your letters!!  I’ll send pictures for reals this time.   Love ya all! Courtney

Pictures:

1. At Eagles Lift,  which is where we do service every Friday morning.  2-5. At NASA 6. Frying plantains at Cinthia house. 7. Edna 8. Sister Heaps (she took us to the museum) 9. The Sneddons- brother Sneddon drove us to NASA.