#I guess I’ll need to draw something for 4/13 before I leave actually

[bloobydabloob]

I’m finally on break. Thank the lord dude

[squishneedsahero]

Reasons

Awesomest of Them All 2.0

Part 4 of 13

Word Count: 1809

Batman x Batmom!Reader

You know what the bat family needs? Someone to pull them together and give them all the love they deserve. Who better to do that than you? An author rising to stardom in Gotham who catches the eye of a billionaire with your standoffish attitude at a huge social gathering. You are yourself and never pretend to be more or less than that. Plus you're the most stubborn person in the world, refusing to let good things go without reason.

This is a rewrite of my story Awesomest of Them All, I wanted to see how much I've improved over 3 years.

"You're breaking up with me?" You say it like a question, offendedly and confused, from your point of view everything was going good, but apparently it wasn't.

"I am. I'm sorry y/n it's not you it's-"

"Nu-uh, Bruce Thomas Fucking Wayne you are not going end things with that cliche line," you say sounding pissed. "I love you and if you want to end things that is fine but you better as hell give me one good fucking reason why.

"But-no-were done y/n," he says, sounding confused as to why you're arguing with him. Why did you have to be so stubborn?! If anything it only made him love you more.

"No we aren't done at least until you give me a good reason. If you're going to end things with me then I deserve to at least know why when as far as I know everything is perfect according to Gotham standards," you cross your arms and pop your hip. This was the first real relationship you'd had in your life and him ending it without warning wasn't something you could handle. You needed to at the very least know why. Why had he invited you over? Why had Dick and Alfred greeted you normally? Just for him to try and end things? It made zero sense.

He looks away from you, with the angry tears in your beautiful eyes. You the first woman he has genuinely fallen head over heels for that he was currently trying to end things with. It was hurting him just as much as it hurt you, but he had a good reason. He didn't want you getting hurt because of his night job.

Both Alfred and Dick had tried to tell him you could handle it, and he knew they were right. You would be able to handle the fact that he was Batman, but he knew he couldn't handle you getting hurt. He knew that was his breaking point.

It's as you're staring at him with the tears beginning to run down your cheeks that he reaches his other breaking point. Seeing you hurting and confused, he couldn't bring himself to lie to your face another time.

"What?" You ask, seeing the slight changes to his posture and expression.

He takes a breath, "I'm trying to keep you safe y/n-"

"You're trying to keep me safe?" You ask your own expression softening. "Bruce," you reach a hand up to cup his cheek as you always had, but he catches it before you can touch him.

"Yes, I can't handle seeing you hurt. Even now, when I know I have good reasons for trying to leave you, I can't bring myself to actually do it because I can see how much it's hurting you even if you're yelling at me," his hand drops yours and comes to cup your cheek, a slight smile coming to his lips.

Your breathing hitches for a moment as he speaks, you can feel how genuine he is being, "Bruce-" actual tears begin to run down your cheeks at his proclamation of love. Your arms wrap around his torso and you lean your head against his chest, "Bruce, my love, that is the opposite of a good reason to break up with me. I hope you realize that."

His deep laugh echos through your ears, and his hand runs through your hair. "I know my dear, I can't do it. I can't bring myself to end things with you. If you had walked out after I tried the first time I would have, but I cannot bring myself to argue with you when I know deep down I'm wrong even if I like to think I'm keeping you safe."

"Well, as sweet as that is I'm glad you at least are acknowledging the fact that you're a dumbass for thinking it might work," you laugh gently and lean back to look at his face. "So, can I know what has you so convinced I'm going to be hurt if I continue my relationship with you?"

The two of you stand in silence for a few minutes just hugging each other before he says, "it'll be better for me t show you, as knowing you if I were to just tell you you would laugh and think I'm joking."

This of course causes you to laugh, "me? Laugh at you? What in the world makes you think I would do that?"

He laughs gently, "I don't know what would make me think that, dear." He doesn't wait for a real answer, instead taking your hand and leading you into the study and up to the beautiful dark colored oak wood grand father clock. He doesn't say anything as he moves the hands on the clock and it opens like a door revealing a staircase. He leads you down, still holding your hand.

You, are of course confused by this, because who the hell has a secret room in their house?! Well, billionaires, that's who. But that still doesn't tell you why he had a secret room. You look to him for an answer but he simply continues leading you down the stairs.

Once you reach the bottom of the stairs you stop, and look around amazed at the vast cave you found you were in. It's dark, and you can't see much so you revert back to default settings and ask, "you have a sex cave?"

He laughs, clearly amused with that question. The fact that he had expected any other reaction just showed him how often you surprised him. "No, y/n," he leads you a little further into the cave before letting go of your hand and saying, "wait here, I'm going to turn the lights on."

You nod, and wait as you hear him move off through the dark. Your mind was reeling, what in the world was this place? Whatever it was, it was important to him and he was trusting you with it.

It's after a few moments that the lights light up the large space. A gasp leaves you as you see on one end of the cave a huge computer screen built into the rock, on the other end a car, helicopter and a whole ass airplane. It's as you slowly turn in a circle that Bruce comes back over to you and catches you in his arms.

You were facing a taxidermy T-Rex as he leans down to softly say in your ear, "I'm Batman."

A chill goes down your spine and you know it's true, not that you could really question it when he has a bat-mobile and T-Rex in his basement. Your hands find their way down to rest on his, "I guess this would be a good reason to break up with me, if you're still wanting too."

He shakes his head, "I love you too much to do that to you. Plus, me telling you defeats the purpose of any of that stupidity," he says, grabbing your waist and pulling you into a deep kiss.

"So, this is why I couldn't spend the night?"

"Yes," he laughs softly and kisses you again as he picks you up. Your legs find their way to lock around his waist, as he carries you over to the chair in front of the computer. He sets you on the desk, kissing you deeply yet again, one of his hands traveling up your shirt to draw circles on your side.

How could he be the worlds greatest detective and also not have guessed that you, the woman he loves would argue with him when he tried to leave you? He had almost made the biggest mistake of his life that day and now all of his emotions were overcoming him, he wanted, needed you close to him.

Sooner than he wants you break the kiss and end the make out session. You gently kiss his lips one time and ask, "so, how much am I allowed to know?" You press another quick kiss to his cheek as you stand up, and say, "I love you."

He doesn't let you move far from him, sitting himself in the desk chair and pulling you into his lap. "Anything you want to know you can," he brushes your hair back from your face and tilts his head to press a kiss to your neck.

"Hey!" You laugh and push his face back from you. "I want you to answer my questions, not try and distract me!" You spin yourself to straddle him, a hand going to rest on his hip, "after questions, then maybe, I'll let you kiss me." You purse your lips in thought, "maybe I'll let you do more than just kiss me, but that depends on if you behave," you tease gently.

He laughs and shakes his head slightly, "alright, I'll restrain myself from kissing you anymore, until you have your questions answered. After that though," that smirk comes to his lips as he suggestively lets his hand go up the back of your shirt to rest on your shoulder blade.

You sigh dramatically, and roll your eyes gently, even if you were excited to see him like this. "Okay, I'll make it fast. Does this mean Dick is Robin? Is that Clark Kent guy actually Superman and that's how Dick knew him? Finally I'd like to formally apologize for doing your job that first time we met when Joker tried to shoot me and I went on autopilot and told him he had lipstick in his teeth."

Bruce laughs, "yes, Dick is Robin. I'm surprised you already put that together with Clark, usually Superman is far away so him wearing glasses works. And, my love, it is more than alright that you did my job for me. I couldn't have done it better myself, though I probably would not have fallen on top of Joker after flipping him," he teases gently and kisses your cheek, "but no, I should have known from that that you can handle yourself."

You smile and press a kiss to his lips, "well, at the very least I'm sorry for insulting you when I did thank you that night."

He laughs again, "y/n, I love every part of you and if I am honest with myself that is the night I started falling for you. You amaze me with your ability to laugh and stand strong in the face of danger, I save people every night and have never seen anyone else react like you."

You push a hand against his chest, "stop, you're making me blush."

He rolls his eyes and laughs at you again, before growing more serious as he looks at you, saying in a low, sexy, voice, "a deals a deal, y/n, I'm going to make you do more than blush tonight."

[snowdice]

Big Bang (Sort of) Editing Story [Day 67]

I started writing this fic while editing my Big Bang story, but am going to continue doing it for other things now that Kill Dear is out. I will write and publish 100 words of the story every time I finish doing whatever task I’m doing. If you’d like to block these proceedings, please feel free to block the tag proofread stories. I will reblog this post with the parts of the story I do today. Edited chapters are linked; everything else I’ve done so far is under the cut.

My Master Post Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Part 30

Got many things to do today, though I do have a meeting in a bit over an hours, so there will be a break.

Chapter 31

Logan waited for a while after Patton left to check on Virgil, but the two never resurfaced. It was odd, Patton would usually remember to come back and get Logan or at least tell them where they were. With a sigh, Logan climbed to his feet to go find them. It took him a while to weave his way through the maze of bushes to them especially because they were suspiciously quiet (Well, suspicious for Patton. Virgil was often unnervingly quiet when alone.) Luckily, he knew the bushes enough after all of these years not to get lost and managed to find the two after a few minutes.

“Ah,” he said, immediately identifying the reason for Patton disappearing.

 “Logan!” Patton said, his voice excited, but also quieter than normal. “We found a kitty!”

“I can see that,” Logan responded, taking a step closer. The cat hissed at him in response. The hissing was so intense and wild that he’d suspect the thing was feral if it wasn’t happily on Virgil’s lap having had it’s head in Patton’s lap before Logan had approached.

“No,” Virgil told the animal as though it could understand words. “That’s Logan. Be nice.”

The cat still glared at him and swished it’s tail back and forth threateningly. Virgil pet the top of it’s head and it broke eye contact with Logan to purr.

 Patton seemed delighted by the purring, reaching to stroke under the thing’s chin carefully. “We should give her a name!” Patton said.

Virgil frowned. “I thought her name was Ghost Kitty.”

“That is ‘Ghost Kitty’?” Logan asked skeptically. From what Patton had said about that cat, it was terrified of people and no one could ever get near it, even him. Now it was in Virgil’s lap?

“But that was a temporary name,” Patton said, “for before we officially met her. Now we have to give her a real name.”

“Do not give it a name,” Logan said. “You will get attached.”

 “How do you name a cat?” Virgil asked.

“Do not name it,” Logan said.

“You give them names based on their personalities, how they look, or even just because it’s a cute name,” Patton explained. “Like, remember Mittens? I named her Mittens because she has white fur and black paws!”

Virgil looked at the cat. “She’s completely black,” he said.

Patton hummed. “So, we could give her a name based on that like Midnight or Shadow.”

“Those are fine,” Virgil said.

“No, no,” Patton said. “I’m just giving you examples. You get to name her yourself.”

“This is a bad idea,” Logan said.

 “Just throw out some names,” Patton said. “Anything you can think of.”

“Uh,” Virgil said. “Knife.”

“…Just Knife?” Patton asked.

“Nightmare.” Virgil seemed to think about it. “No, that’s mean.”

“How about things you like?” Patton suggested.

“Alfredo?”

Oh no, Logan thought, he was worse than Patton at cat naming.

“Good start,” Patton said. “Logan, do you have any suggestions.”

“Cat,” Logan said.

“Real suggestions,” Patton scolded.

Logan sighed and thought for a moment. “Aphrodite.”

“Catphrodite!”

Logan glared at him. “Helena.”

“Helenpaw.”

“Claudia.”

“Clawdia.”

“Persephone.”

Patton smiled at him, cheerfully.

“…Damnit!”

Patton turned to Virgil again. “Like that! They don’t even have to be serious. Like, uh, you could name her Madam Fluffywuffykins the Great!”

“Do not name her that,” Logan said, scrunching up his nose.

 Logan sat on the ground, the cat eyeing him, but no longer hissing. Logan gently guided them towards more sensible names despite Patton trying his hardest to drag them into stupidity.

Virgil still didn’t quite get it. He mostly tried to name it after foodstuff, and often not even appropriate foodstuff such as “Corn” and “Acorn Squash” and “Sandwich” and occasionally would drop in semi violent ones such as “Razor,” “Nightshade” and “Void.” Patton suggested names like “Fluffers,” “Bobette” and “Darling” as well as some that were puns. Logan tried to direct them towards more sensible ones like “Salem” and even went so low as to suggest the contrary “Snowball.”

 It quickly seemed to become less about actually naming the cat and more of a game. Patton had taught Virgil about playing with cats and had even gotten out a ball of yarn he cared around for his crafts. Both Virgil and the cat seemed to find endless entertainment with that. Logan hoped Patton had another ball of yarn that color because, he was never going to get that ball back.

The barrage of names fizzled out into naming things around them like “Leaf” and “Bush” until they stopped suggesting names altogether. Patton and Logan sat back and watched Virgil play with the cat.

 Logan watched as they stopped playing suddenly and Virgil and the cat squinted at each other. “Marisol,” Virgil said, pulling the name out of nowhere. “That’s her name.” He said it with a certainty that was surprising considering how he’d treated the naming process with confusion and caution earlier. If Logan did not know better, his tone of voice would indicate that the cat, or Marisol he guessed, had gotten bored of them coming up with stupid names and decided to tell him her actual name herself.

The cat made a sound and batted at Virgil’s face without claws to grab back his attention.

 He turned back to it and bopped its face with a finger in kind. It attacked his finger, but in a clearly playful matter as it still did not extend it’s claws and its teeth did not draw blood.

“That’s a great name, Virgil,” Patton said.

“Much more pleasant than any that Patton suggested all afternoon,” Logan said. He received an elbow to the side for his quip.

“A pretty name for a pretty kitty,” Patton said, scooting over to where Virgil was sat and attempting to pet Marisol’s head. Marisol, however, was too keyed up and batted at the hand.

 “I love you too!” Patton said.

Logan rolled his eyes, but he had long since resigned himself to watching the two of them play with and coo over the cat for the rest of the day.

Eventually, though, it started to get darker. Even after Logan pointed this out, it still took over an hour for them to relent and leave the bush maze to go to the door. The problem was of course, that the cat had managed to grow very attached to Virgil in the last few hours and she followed them all the way to the door with manipulatively heart breaking mews.

 “You’ve got to stay out here,” Virgil said, when they got to the castle door. He pet her ear softly and she shoved her head into his hand. “I’m sorry. I don’t have anywhere to put you.” He sounded horribly sad about that fact and Logan felt himself shift uncomfortably. “I basically live in a closet and Logan doesn’t like cats in his room anyway.”

Logan immediately felt unreasonably guilty, probably more so because Logan did not think Virgil was trying to make him feel guilty. “…Bring the dammed thing inside.”

Virgil blinked up at him. “What?”

“It will get cold soon anyway,” Logan said.

He frowned at Logan from where he was crouched. “But you don’t like fur in your room…”

“I will have to find a potion that works,” he said with a sigh, “and we’ll have to say it’s mine to the guards and Father since it will be staying in my room, but it is yours in every other way. That means you are going to feed it, clean it, and clean up after it.”

Virgil nodded immediately and swooped Marisol up in his arms. The cat went without complaint. “Thank you!” he said. “I love her.”

“I know you do,” Logan said, already regretting it already. Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to even consider recanting the offer considering how happy Virgil seemed to be. They had a cat now, he guessed.

  Chapter 32

“What are you doing?” Helen asked a few minutes after her son walked into the kitchen and started looking around as though he were trying to find something. It was a few hours into the afternoon, and she and a few workers were already prepping for dinner.

“Uh,” Patton said. “Have you seen Virgil?”

“No,” Helen said. “Why.”

“Er… Logan and I sorta, lost him,” Patton said. He was wringing his hands anxiously. Helen put down the knife in her hand.

“What do you mean you lost him?” she asked.

“Well, see, we were trying to teach him how to play hide and seek, um, but then we didn’t think to tell him that he eventually had to come out if we didn’t find him, and now we haven’t seen him since breakfast.”

 “He didn’t know what tag is?” she asked. That was just one more thing to add to the list of why Helen worried about Virgil and where he came from. Every morsel of information she’d managed to wring from Patton despite his evasions made her lists of concerns grow larger, even little things like him not knowing about simple childhood games. Actually, thinking of concerning things having to do with Virgil. “Wait, so he hasn’t eaten lunch.”

“Um, we don’t know that,” Patton’s mouth said while his eyes said ‘no.’

“He needs to be on a consistent diet, especially when he’s still taking the malnutrition potion,” she scolded.

 “I know, Mama, I know,” Patton said. “I’m trying to find him. I’d kinda hoped he’d gotten hungry and snuck down here. He probably wouldn’t want to risk being caught stealing food though.”

Helen grimaced. Yet another concerning thing.

“Wait! I have an idea, I’ll be right back.” Patton turned and ran out of the room. Helen frowned at the space he’d been and finished chopping the carrot on the cutting board in front of her. If it had been any other person in the castle missing, Helen wouldn’t have worried, but she had literally never seen Virgil without Patton and/or Logan by his side. Even when he’d gone to help Jeff can some fruit, Logan had reportedly hung around to read a book.

 Considering that Logan had never exactly been clingy even with Patton, she imagined that either Virgil asked, or Logan thought he should stay with him for his comfort. So, she was surprised that he was apparently hidden away somewhere in the castle where neither of the other kids could find him.

Still thinking about this, she walked over to the entrance to the cellar below the kitchen where they stored most of the vegetables, planning to grab some more carrots. She was confused for a moment when she heard movement from deeper in the pantry. She reached over and touched the panel near the door that controlled the magic lights.

 The newly illuminated figure startled as the lights came on, whipping around to stare at her with wide eyes.

“Virgil?” she asked.

“Sorry,” he said immediately, taking a step back.

“It’s fine,” she said immediately, “but what are you doing here?”

He considered her for a long moment, but apparently, she passed some sort of mental test, because he relaxed, at least as much as he’d ever relaxed in her presence. “Where are we?” he asked.

Her brow knit together. “The cellar under the kitchen,” she said, “You don’t know that?”

He shook his head.

“The only entrance is from the kitchen.” Now that she thought about it, she hadn’t seen him go through the kitchen at any point.

 “No, it’s not,” Virgil said. “There’s a tunnel.”

“A-a tunnel?” she asked. Actually, taking a closer look at him, he seemed a bit grimy. He had dust all over his front and dirt on his nose. She thought he might even have a couple of cobwebs in his hair.

“Yep,” he said.

“Where’s the tunnel?” she asked.

“It’s right over here,” he said. He took a couple of steps and pointed to the ground. There was an open square hole there that clearly had been made a long time ago but which she had never noticed in all of her time working here.

 “How did you find this?” she asked.

“We were playing hide and seek,” Virgil explained. “Logan said I could hide anywhere inside the castle. I hid on top of a dresser upstairs in some unused sitting room. There was a hole in the wall above it, so I climbed into it. Then, I crawled a little bit and it let out into a hidden passage in the walls. I wandered around in it until I found another hole in one of the walls. I thought it was a way out, so I squeezed into it, but it took me to a different hallway where I found an old room. There was a different hole in that room that had probably been covered by something because it was in the floor but whatever it was had rotted away. I crawled though it into a tunnel and came out here.”

 She couldn’t help but laugh a bit at his explanation. “Well, it sounds like you went on an adventure,” she said, “but Patton and Logan have been trying to find you. You missed lunch.”

He tilted his head at her. “I know. I was supposed to hide.”

“Yes,” she explained, “but you are supposed to come out at some point if they can’t find you for things like food.”

“Oh,” he said.

“They probably should have explained,” she said. “For now, why don’t we get you something to eat? You must be hungry.”

Virgil frowned. “But I missed lunch.”

“You can still eat even though it’s not in normal hours,” she said. “You could even if you had made it to lunch.”

 “Really?” he asked, he looked tragically confused by this offer.

“Of course, sweetie,” she said. “In fact, I insist you get something good to eat right now. How about I made you a grilled ham and cheese sandwich? Maybe some cookies too!”

Virgil titled his head. “You are Patton’s mother,” he stated.

Helen laughed softly. “He gets its all from me,” she said. “We should probably go find him and tell him you’re okay. He was worried.”

“I didn’t mean to worry him,” Virgil said with a frown.

“I know,” Helen said. “It’s okay. He’ll probably laugh when he figures out where you’ve been, and Logan will interrogate you all about the secret passageways.” He seemed happy about the prospect of seeing his friends. “Come on, let’s go upstairs for a bit,” she said.

  Chapter 33

Patton’s mom had already made Virgil sit down at the small table in the corner of the kitchen and had handed him a sandwich by the time Patton barreled into the kitchen, Logan coming after him at a more sedate pace.

“Virgil!” he said, sounding surprised and relieved.

“Patton,” Patton’s mom scolded. “No cats in the kitchen.” Patton had brought Marisol in with him and had let her go as soon as he’d seen Virgil. She immediately plodded over to him and hoped onto the table to sniff at his face in greeting.

“But she’s the princess!” Patton argued.

“No,” Logan said.

 “Yes, she is!” Patton said.

“The stupid cat is not a princess.”

“Don’t be mean to your little sister, Logan.”

“I regret every life decision that has led me to this point.”

While Logan and Patton were distracted squabbling and Patton’s mom was distracted watching them squabble, Virgil tore off a bit of the ham in his sandwich and offered it to Marisol. Marisol gracefully took it from his grip and ate it.

“So, this is Logan’s new cat I’ve been hearing about?” Patton’s mom asked.

“Indeed,” Logan said, his lips thinned. He and Marisol were mostly amicable when alone with just them and Virgil, but Patton had a habit of cooing over the kitten and needling Logan into being irritated.

 “Mmm, yeah,” Patton’s mom said. She glanced over at Virgil right as Marisol basically slammed her face into his chin in a bid to get pets. “Your cat.” She shook her head. “But Princess Kitten or not, I do not want fur in dinner,” she said.

“Sorry,” Patton said, honestly not sounding sorry at all. Virgil was always a bit surprised when the insolent shrug garnered nothing more that a scowl that did not reach Patton’s mom’s eyes. “I thought she could help me find Virgil, but you already found him.” He turned to Virgil. “Where have you been all day?”

 “Found a tunnel,” Virgil said. He had to use one hand to hold Marisol back from his sandwich as he took another bite, but then gave her a bite of cheese.

“You found what?” Logan asked.

“There’s a tunnel under the cellar,” Virgil said. “It goes to an old closed up room and also to a set of secret passageways.” It was a bit of a security risk honestly, though clearly no one had used it in years by how dirty it was. He did plan to go back into it and make sure the sprawling tunnels didn’t go to anywhere more dangerous like the royal wing.

 “A closed-up room?” Logan said. He could see a bit of curiosity already building in his eyes.

“Yeah,” Virgil said. “Where the door used to be seemed like it had been bricked over.”

“Really? Can you show me.”

“Sure,” Virgil answered.

“Ah, perhaps we should be a bit more cautious about climbing through random tunnels we don’t know the stability of,” Patton’s mom said.

Logan’s frown edged on a pout.

“Talk to your father,” she said. “I’m sure he can get someone who understands these things so you can safely investigate.”

“It was safe enough for Virgil,” Logan pointed out.

 “No, Logan.”

He sighed but seemed to concede. That was another strange thing about living here. By all rights Logan didn’t have to obey anyone except the king, but he often listened to those around him, not just the adults but Patton as well. It was interesting though it sometimes made the hierarchy hard to figure out. Virgil did sometimes stress out about the hypothetical situation where he got conflicting orders from two people, and he wouldn’t know which one to obey. So far it hadn’t been a problem luckily. They always seemed to work it out amongst themselves in some give and take social interaction that was a bit too complex for him to understand.

 Patton walked over to where Virgil was sitting. “I’m glad your safe,” he said. “We should probably put a time limit on hide and seek in the future, so you know when to come out.”

“Did I win?” Virgil asked. He’d honestly forgotten they’d been playing a game until Patton’s mom had asked how he’d found his way into the cellar.

Patton laughed. “I’d say so, yeah,” he replied. He leaned over to kiss Virgil’s forehead, but drew back immediately with a pinched expression. “You are… very dirty,” he said, rubbing his mouth.

Virgil nodded. “Your mom made me sit on a tablecloth,” he said gesturing to the fabric she’d laid over the chair.

 Patton snorted out a laugh. “We’ll get you into the bath when you’re done eating and you can tell us all about your little adventure.”

“I would also like to hear about your discoveries,” Logan said. “Though you are not allowed to sit on the bed until you do not have spider webs in your hair.”

Patton’s eyes widened and he jumped away from Virgil, startling both Virgil and Marisol. The latter hopped from the table onto Virgil’s lap. “Spiders?!”

Virgil tilted his head at him in confusion.

“He isn’t a fan of spiders,” Logan informed him, his voice amused at Patton’s reaction.

 Apparently deciding that she was no longer startled, but more confused by the noises Patton had just made, Marisol jumped out of Virgil’s lap to investigate, wrapping her way around Patton’s legs. He bent down to pat her back, though he still looked a bit startled.

“Your cat, huh?” Patton’s mom asked Logan once again. Virgil studied her. She had apparently missed Logan mentioning that he allowed Virgil on the bed. Or perhaps Logan was correct in his insistence that it wasn’t actually that big of a deal here. Virgil would rather not test that assumption, however, so was glad that it had been distracted from by Patton’s outburst.

 “Creepy, crawly death dealers,” Patton mumbled into Marisol’s fur, having picked her back up. Virgil made a note to not inform Patton of all of the different types of spiders he’d seen skittering around in the castle walls today. Maybe he’d talk about them with Logan once Patton left. He’d probably be interested. Virgil had seen some he’d never seen before! Logan probably could even help him figure out what their names were. “You’ll protect me, won’t you kitty?” Patton asked Marisol.

She made a little ‘burrrr’ sound in response, which Patton seemed to take a confirmation.

“Aw thank you, baby! Such a good baby.”

50234

Virgil popped the rest of the sandwich into his mouth. Patton’s mom turned away and grabbed a plate stacked with cookies. She handed it to Logan. “Take these, and please get the health hazards out of my kitchen,” she requested.

Logan took them without complaint. “Come on, Virgil,” he said. “Let’s go get you clean.”

“We’re going to need so much soap,” Patton said.

Virgil looked down at himself. “I can go outside and get most of it off if you get me a bucket of water,” he offered.

“Virgil, it’s below freezing,” Logan said as though that had a baring on what he’d just said. Logan sighed. “No. Bathtub.” Virgil shrugged. “Honestly,” Logan said. He turned with the plate of cookies in his hand, clearly expecting to be followed. “You’re not going to catch your death pouring a bucket of water over yourself in the cold when there are literally over a hundred perfectly good bathtubs in this castle. For goodness sakes.” And well, Virgil wasn’t going to complain.

  Chapter 34

Patton, to be completely honest, was not all that interested in the room that Virgil had found. Beyond just the fact that it would definitely have creepy crawly death dealers in it, he really did not understand the intrigue. If it had just been him, he probably would have just let a castle worker deal with it, but it was not just him. Logan was ecstatic with the prospect of investigating a secret in the castle. People who didn’t know him well may not believe it considering he spent most of his time with his nose in a book, but he was an adventurer at heart.

 Thomas had been easily swayed into finding someone to help tear down part of the wall into the secret tunnel near the room (so no one would have to crawl through the kitchen cellar like Virgil). It had taken a few days, however, and Logan was practically bouncing off the walls waiting. Virgil, despite having already seen the room before, also seemed excited, though if that was because of his own curiosity or because he was just excited that Logan seemed so exited remained to be seen.

“They are silly, aren’t they,” Patton asked Princess Marisol. He was laying on his stomach on Logan’s bed and Princess Marisol had just put her little paw on his nose.

 “Yes, I agree,” he said. “Don’t they know that we’re literally going to be 2 feet away from the normal hallway?”

“It is not silly,” Logan defended himself. “Any number of things could go wrong.” He sounded far too excited about the prospect of something going terribly wrong. “The tunnels could cave in and block off the exit or there could be some unknown pathogen in the air.”

Patton did not ruin his fun by mentioning that Logan’s dad had definitely basically baby proofed the tunnels for them ahead of time. Instead, he just said, “Don’t let Virgil hear you say that sort of thing. It will just stress him out.”

 “Yes, yes, of course,” he said, waving off Patton’s concerns as he mulled over two different weird green planty things (potion ingredients, Patton assumed) before setting one aside and sticking the other in his bag.

“So silly,” Patton cooed at the cat. Logan let out a huff but did not choose to say anything about it this time.

Speaking of silly, Virgil came back from Logan’s bathroom then, and Patton tried not to giggle. “Is this right?” Virgil asked, sounding and looking confused. Logan, in his overexcitement about adventure had commissioned Virgil an outfit that actually fit. Said outfit, however, very much made it look more like Virgil was going on a safari instead of a two-foot detour from the normal castle hallway.

 “Almost,” Logan said, “Here, let me.” Logan started straightening everything out and flattening the collar, reminding Patton of an overbearing parent on picture day. Virgil accepted the fussing without protest. It was adorable. Well, the outfit was ridiculous, but still, adorable. “There,” Logan said. “I think we’re ready to go now.”

It was about time. Patton was sure people were already waiting for them downstairs. Patton got up and patted Princess Marisol on the head. She looked up at them with interest.

“You can stay here, sweetie,” Patton told here. She seemed to consider it and then hopped down from the bed to go rub up against Virgil.

 Patton guessed she was coming. It didn’t matter too much since Logan had given her a magical collar that allowed her to open most doors in the castle and everyone knew she was the royal cat now, so if she decided she wanted to come back to the room and nap, she could. (She was very aware of the power she held.)

She pranced happily by Virgil’s side all the way down the steps to the first floor of the castle. She was such a good kitty.

Well, she did hiss angrily at everyone who came too close to them, but still, a very good kitty.

 Patton did lean down and pick her up so they could actually talk to the man waiting for them at the large hole in the wall. Logan went to talk to the castle worker while Virgil half hid behind Patton. He was clearly listening very intently to the conversation however, at least more intently than Patton was. Patton was busy shaking his head fondly.

“Yes, yes, Princess,” he said to the cat. “I know we do not trust the strangers, but I promise this stranger is perfectly safe.”

“How do you know?” Virgil asked.

“His name is Chester and I’ve known him since I was 9.”

 This seemed to slightly alleviate Virgil’s suspicion, but Princess Marisol still seemed antsy. Patton really needed to start slowly introducing the both of them to more people.

Logan finished talking with Chester after a few moments and it was time to climb through the hole in the wall. He wished he saw in the tunnel whatever Logan with his excited eyes and bounce to his step obviously saw. Or even that was more comfortable in the dark closed in space as Virgil obviously was. As it was, Patton’s nose scrunched up at the thought off all of the spiders that could be living everywhere in the secret tunnel, but he pushed through.

 The entrance to the tunnel had been made only a little bit from the room Virgil had mentioned and Chester had led them through it after only a couple of seconds. As Patton had suspected, the room was already lit up and probably cleaned a little bit by the people who had cut into the wall, not that he was complaining.

Virgil was still clinging a bit to Patton’s shirt, though it seemed to be less out of anxiety at this point and more out of a desire to stick close. He was peering around curiously at the lit-up space. He probably hadn’t seen much of it in the dark when he’d been here before.

 Yet, his curiosity was nothing compared to how excited Logan seemed to be. Now Patton may have not been interested in the room itself, but he was entertained by how interested Logan was and was happy to encourage that.

“What do you think this place is?” he asked Logan.

Logan hummed contemplatively, eyes looking around. “Well,” he said. “It’s a bedroom clearly, and old. Considering the location it is in in the castle, the size, the decorations, and it’s likely age, I’d imagine it was a bedroom of a royal family member. This used to be the royal wing three royal lines ago.”

 “Bearing that in mind, there are a couple of likely possibilities for the origin of the room as well as the reason it was sealed up, but we will need to investigate more in order to come to an actual conclusion.” He had already placed the bag he’d brought on the ground and was going through it, pulling out things that Patton did not recognize. He also got a piece of paper and sat on the floor to start to sketch.

“What are you doing?” Virgil asked.

“I’m sketching the floorplan of the room,” Logan said. “I will then put a grid on it so we can investigate while being sure that we aren’t missing anything.”

 Virgil seemed uninterested in this part of the adventure, instead electing to go poking around by himself. Princess Marisol squirmed out of Patton’s arms to go follow him. Patton swore that he only looked away from those two for 5 seconds, but the next thing he knew he heard metal clicking against metal.

“Oh,” Patton said, eyes wide when he saw what Virgil was fiddling with. “Honey, you probably shouldn’t touch…”

The old but fancy looking chest that had been at the end of the remains of the bed creaked open. Virgil sneezed as a cloud of dust puffed out of it. “Huh,” he said studying the contents. “There’s a skull in here.”

 “Oh, I don’t like this adventure anymore,” Patton commented.

Logan was on his feet within moments. “Let me see,” he said eagerly.

“What if it’s cursed?” Patton pointed out.

“Then I’ll just break the curse,” Logan waved him off. “Oh, it’s just a horse skull,” Logan said, sounding disappointed. “And also what seemed to be potion ingredients. Though they seem very fresh considering the state of the room.”

“Maybe we should get someone else to…”

Logan already had both arms inside the chest and was pulling things out of it. “This chest must have some sort of stasis effect to it.”

 He started pulling things out to look at them before setting them on the floor with no caution. “Well,” he said, “that answers the question of what this room is.”

“It does?” Patton asked.

“Ah, yes, between the horse skull and the potion ingredients, this is obviously the bedroom of Princess Marianne Elicia. She was the third child of King Simon IV and was quite the fan of horses.”

“…So she kept a horse skull in a stasis chest in her bedroom?” Patton asked.

“Of course,” Logan said. “Back when her family was in power, magic was outlawed and had quite the stigma against it, but she ended up learning magic and become quite proficient.”

 “It’s debated what exactly happened when her father found out about her activities. Some sources say that she was executed silently by her father, but others say she managed to escape with the head of the stables but not before putting a curse on the country of Prijaznia. That is until she or one of her bloodline sits on the throne, every royal line will end in madness and blood by the 5th seated monarch before an heir is born.”

“Isn’t that something you should be worried about?” Virgil asked.

Logan shrugged. “It’s just a myth,” he said. “Besides I’m 6th in the line, so there really isn’t any concern.”

52142

“There are a lot of interesting things in here,” Logan said, still focused on the chest. “Not to mention the books. We’ll have to be careful with those though since they don’t appear to be in stasis.”

Logan pulled the horse skull out and set it on the floor making Patton wince.

“Marisol no!” he said as Princess Marisol immediately went to go sniff at it. He swooped her up in his arms. “How long are we staying in this creepy room?” Patton asked.

“Patton, we just got here,” Logan said.

“We just got here and already found a skull!”

“Yes! Exactly!”

Patton groaned into Princess Marisol’s fur even as she tried wiggle away to go back and investigate the skull. This was going to be a long day.

  Chapter 35

Logan was surprised when he woke up alone in bed. He’d grown to anticipate waking to a smaller body unrelentingly clinging to his in the past couple of weeks. Confused he sat up and peered around his bedroom. He wouldn’t have seen Virgil with the way he melted into the darkness if it he hadn’t heard the sound of purring coming from near the window. He could just barely make out a dark blob shifting up and down at the cat kneaded at a different blob sitting mostly hidden behind the thick curtain.

“Virgil?” Logan questioned. “What are you doing?”

 “It’s snowing,” was the answer.

“That is not an answer,” Logan grumbled at the ceiling. With a sigh, he pulled himself out of bed. It was a bit chilly in here, he thought. The temperature must have dipped suddenly and intensely enough that the runes keeping the castle at a warm enough temperature hadn’t caught up yet. He pulled one of the blankets off of the top of his bed to wrap around his shoulders as he approached the window. There wasn’t much light outside, the stars and moon covered by clouds, but there were some lanterns lit for the night guard who patrolled the outside. “Oh,” he said in surprise. “It’s really snowing.”

 It had been colder but not quite cold enough for snow to stick the day before, so it came as a surprise when he saw snow was piling up quite high to the point where familiar paths outside his window had disappeared.

“I don’t like it,” Virgil informed him.

“Why not?” Logan asked.

“It’s cold,” Virgil answered. It was clear in his tone that in Virgil’s opinion ‘cold’ was a horrible insult to the concept of snow. Logan quirked a half smile and his attention was drawn to the fact that it was quite cold right here close to the window.

 Frowning, he pulled at the blanket around his shoulder so he could wrap it and his arm around the lump that was Virgil. He brushed the boy’s hand when he did so and found it was like ice.

“You’re freezing!” Logan said. “How long have you been by the window?”

“I dunno,” he replied.

Logan was already tugging at him. “You need to get back in bed,” he said.

Virgil obeyed the pulling at his arms even as he frowned. “I’ve been colder than this before,” he said.

“That actually doesn’t make me feel better,” Logan replied dryly as he shooed him towards the bed.

 He took the thicker blanket that usually stayed folded at the end of the bed and pulled it up over Virgil before climbing into bed beside him.

“There,” Logan said, rubbing Virgil’s arms through the fabric of the sweater he wore to bed. He was glad he wasn’t wearing a t-shirt at least. “The runes for heating the castle should catch up within a few hours, but until then this should do. Assuming we don’t sit by the freezing window for an undetermined amount of time.”

“I don’t like the cold,” Virgil told him.

Logan sighed. “Then why did you sit by the window?”

 Virgil shrugged and ducked his head a bit. Logan reached out to grab his hands to help him warm more but was surprised when one of the hands was much warmer than the other. He found his fingers were clutching a crescent shaped stone: the protection charm they’d made. Logan knew that he kept it in his pocket most of the time, but he didn’t normally see him holding it like this. It was warm to the touch, of course, indicating the safety of the room around them.

Logan looked over his face. “Are you…” he said. “Scared of the snow?”

 “I don’t like the cold,” he said once again.

“You’re scared of the winter,” Logan concluded. He looked at Virgil who was far too small for his age and seemed surprised at every casual act of kindness. It was clear that his basic needs were far from being met before he came here. Logan had to wonder what winter usually meant for him. His experiences were doubtlessly very different from Logan’s own. “That makes sense,” he acknowledged, “but you don’t need to be scared of it here. The castle is always perfectly warm and safe in the winter and Mr. Deknis and Ms. Heart work hard during the other seasons to make sure we have plenty of food. There is nothing to fear here.”

 He did not seem convinced.

“You don’t even have to go outside if you don’t want to,” Logan promised. “The castle is plenty big if you’d like to stay inside all winter long. It was made for the winter even without the magic devices that keep it warm. We have fireplaces and well insulated rooms even if those that ends up failing.” Logan pulled open the hand that had the protection charm just to transfer it to his other hand to warm it. “Though, while no one would force you to go outside, the snow isn’t always bad.”

“Yes it is,” Virgil said, his voice sure.

 “Not all the time,” Logan insisted. “Some people love the snow.”

“They’re stupid.”

Logan laughed. “It can be fun for a while with the right equipment if you have someplace to get warm again afterwards. Royal duties slow down during the winter and Patton tends to come up with all sorts of games for both the inside and the outside to pass the time. He’s particularly proficient at snowball fights, at least against me.”

“What’s that?” he asked.

“Play fighting,” Logan answered. “Like pillow fights, but snow.”

“I’ll stick with the pillows,” he replied.

“And then there’s a hill to sled down on the western side of the castle, and people like to build snowmen along the path.”

“What are snowmen?” Virgil asked.

 They’re temporary statues made out of packed snow,” Logan explained. “Typically, they’re made of three different sized balls of snow: the largest being the base and the smallest the ‘head’ though there are some variations. After building them one typically decorates them with different articles of clothing and objects found lying around. It’s usually sticks and rocks for the face and then things like extra hats and scarfs for decoration.” He smiled softly. “When my Pa was alive, we used to steal my Dad’s crown and fanciest robes. Sometimes Pa would steal it right off of Dad’s head and we’d run away. We’d find a secluded area of the castle yards and build the biggest snowman we could as quickly as we could before we got caught. He’d usually end up letting us keep the robes, but we’d have to give the crown back since some of the metals in it would rust when wet.”

 “That sounds…” Virgil’s nose twitched. “fun if you take away the touching snow part.”

Logan laughed. “It is fun,” he said. “Even with the touching snow part. Though, I admit that some of the ability for it to be entertaining does come from the fact that we could warm up afterwards with ease. You’ll enjoy Patton’s mother’s constant offering of hot chocolate during the season even if you never go outside, I’m sure.”

“Hot chocolate?” Virgil asked intrigued. His dark eyes shone brightly in the little light coming through the window. It was clear he could guess something about the drink just by the name and enjoyed the implications.

 Logan smiled fondly. “It is a hot drink,” he explained. “It’s a warm drink made out of milk and chocolate. I can get you some to try in the morning.”

Virgil nodded, eyes still wide with interest.

“For now, we should sleep though,” Logan said. “Are you warm enough? I can get more blankets.”

“I’m fine,” he said.

“Good,” Logan said, reaching up and adjusting the blanket over them once more, tucking it around Virgil a little bit for good measure. “Goodnight Virgil,” he said.

“Goodnight,” he replied softly. Logan reached under the blankets to grab the hand that was still slightly chilly from the window between his own. Virgil’s eyes slipped closed after a moment as he nuzzle his face into the pillow. At some point they both drifted off to sleep.

  Chapter 36

Thomas had already been well aware that winter was on the way, but he and the rest of the castle occupants had been surprised at how intensely and suddenly it had come on. Most things were ready for the winter, but not all of them had been initiated. The fireplaces that took some pressure off the castle heating runes were cleaned out and ready, but they hadn’t been started yet. The stables for different animals on the grounds had been checked over and staff assignments had been made, but most were still in far out fields. Staff that went home for the winter months had been dismissed, but there were a few stragglers that would have to be helped home before things got worse.

 He’d gone out to the main stable to talk to the three workers that were the heads of different areas of animal husbandry to make sure a plan to get everything to where it needed to be soon was in place. It took a while to figure out considering that they’d expected a little more time before the first major snowfall. Thomas also asked them to make sure all of the workers’ homes were in good enough condition for the weather. Ranch hands typically had homes on castle grounds but not in the castle themselves since they needed to be close to the animals. Thomas knew at least half a dozen of those who spent most of their times out in the fields were the type to forgot to maintain their homes because they preferred camping amongst the animals in the summer months and then would be in for a bad time when snow began to fall.

 There should be enough extra rooms in the castle if they needed a place to stay until repairs could be done.

Those conversations took a good couple of hours, before Thomas was satisfied. Before trudging back to the castle through the still falling snow, he made a point to stop at one specific horse stall in the main stable. The horse turned his head to see Thomas when he stopped in front of his stall and puffed out a rather disaffected snort before sticking his head over the gate so Thomas could pat his nose. “Hello, Mr. Apples,” Thomas said.

 The horse seemed to conclude he’d tolerated Thomas’s petting enough and ducked his head to nudge at his torso. Thomas rolled his eyes. “Yes, yes,” he said. “I brought you an apple. Some things never change.” He reached into his pocket to grab the red apple he’d brought the white Arabian. “At least you don’t bite me anymore.” He paused, apple slice in hand and eyed the horse’s nose suspiciously. “Do not bite me,” he said even though he hadn’t felt the animal’s teeth in a decade. It would be just like Mr. Apples to wait until his guard was down.

 After a bit of scrutiny, he offered an apple slice. It was snatched out of his hand and there was a loud crunch as it was bit into.

“It’s snowing out,” he told the horse. The horse seemed to roll his eyes at the statement of the obvious. “I’ll remind again that if you run out in a snowstorm, I’m not running after you, so you’d be out of luck.”

Mr. Apples snorted.

“You’re old now. You’d probably not survive long enough for people to find you. Besides, you blend in with that white fur of yours. They’d probably walk right past you a few times.”

 He went back to nosing for treats as soon as he finished his first and Thomas sighed, pulling out another apple slice. “What are they not feeding you enough?” The gusto with which the horse snatched the apple slice was a very clear answer. “Well, we both know that’s not true.” Thomas fed the horse a third slice of apple when he was done with his second. “I have to get back to the castle now. Don’t be a devil horse.”

Mr. Apples threw his head a bit, splattering apple smelling foamy spittle all over Thomas’s front.

“Understood. Have a nice afternoon.”

 He left Mr. Apples in his stall then, knowing he’d be well cared for no matter how ill-tempered he could be at times. He’d been a king’s horse once, after all, no matter that said king had been dead for more than a decade now.

Winters were hard.

Winters were the times when things always slowed down at the castle, where royal duties were often thin. There were a lot of memories in winter.

The trip back to the castle was not particularly long, but it was also not particularly pleasant. The snow had not been cleared away considering it was still snowing which meant his feet and legs were wet and cold by the time he made it to the nearest castle door.

 He wasn’t sure if, when he entered, the castle heating runes had started to work in earnest or if he’d just been so cold that any measure of warmth was appreciated, but he was relieved to be out of the snow either way.

He decided to check up on the progress of the castle staff lighting the fireplaces. With any luck, they’d be lit already, and he could warm up even more. That in mind, he headed towards the main foyer where the largest fireplace in the castle sat to take off the chill brought in by the large front doors.

 The main foyer was bustling with activity when he snuck in along the sides, giving the guards stationed around nods as he passed. The main fire in the room was burning brightly, though only one of the two smaller ones near the side exits from the room was lit. The other one was still being set up with safety mechanisms. It was good progress and assuming other areas of the castle were being set up as efficiently, he assumed they’d all be set up by nightfall.

He’d need to go check around to be sure, but for now, he walked up to the main fireplace to warm his hands.

 He’d gotten into the habit when he was younger to every so often glance upwards. There had been a certain stable boy who had a propensity for climbing trees. These days, he usually found nothing when he did so, often not even consciously noticing that he’d turned his gaze momentarily skywards. Yet, today, he was startled out of his own idleness by dark brown eyes looking back at him from a small ledge in the shadows high above him.

He froze as he met the young boy’s gaze. Virgil seemed as surprised to be caught as Thomas was to have caught him.

 Slowly Thomas raised one hand and waved to the boy. He slunk back into the shadows at the acknowledgment. If Thomas peered hard enough, he could see a shadow stretch up towards the third-floor balcony in the darkness and disappear over the railing.

Interesting boy.

Thomas found himself smiling despite the oddity. They still had not found out much about Virgil. He would speak to Jeffers about many things apparently, but often could not be redirected to invasive topics and he was still a bit skittish around Helen. He hadn’t willingly existed in a room with Thomas. Thomas hoped that changed at some point. There was something about him that made Thomas like him.

  Chapter 37

Virgil had not spent a lot of time out of Logan’s room. What little time he had spent outside of it was either with Patton and/or Logan or tucked away in secret corridors he found in the walls where no one would stumble upon him. Yet, here he was willingly in a, well, not public by any means place, but one that was still more exposed than he was used to being in. Somehow, he was managing to not care at all.

It was helped by the fact that both Logan and Patton had been in the room at the start, but they had gone off to go… somewhere. Food sounded like it might have been the reason.

 He liked food, and usually he would have been all for going to get some, but between them promising to bring him back some and the fact that he was never going to move ever again, he’d decided to stay.

Princess Marisol seemed to be the only other rational being in the whole castle because she had also not moved since discovering the contents of this room. She was currently laying on his chest purring happily.

The fireplace was a wonderful invention. Now, Virgil had, of course, warmed up by a fire before when it was cold, but this was much different. There was a grate that blocked off the fire a bit keeping it from burning the person in front of it and there was a plush rug right by it, perfect for laying down on. Someone had known what they were doing when designing this room.

 He didn’t even care that the king had access to this sitting room as well as Logan.

…

Okay, so he did care a little bit, but he was ignoring that. He was probably busy this time of day anyway, right?

…

He really didn’t want to run into him after being caught watching the castle workers set up the bigger fireplaces. Kings probably didn’t like people sneaking around watching things from the shadows even when they didn’t know that the person sneaking around was literally sent to kill them.

Princess Marisol must have had a sixth sense for his anxieties (or he’d just started breathing faster and disturbed her) because she stirred a bit.

[thecagedsong]

Forgotten Light Chapter 16: Djinni

A/N: Posting this now so I don’t accidentally go back on my word and post the Tess chapter. Seth is up to Shenanagains of the life-threatening sort, just as he ought to be. Baby tries so hard.

1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 / 11 / 12 / 13 / 14 / 15 / 16

Chapter 15: Djinni

           Unfortunately, they could not leave that afternoon to investigate the poisoned pool like was planned, as the Triclops didn’t give them an opportunity. It spent the whole afternoon and evening swinging an uprooted tree back and forth around the confines of their little sanctuary.

           “All right,” Seth said, that night, “Need a new plan.”

           “The plan is to get some sleep and try again in the morning. This island is big, he’ll go somewhere else eventually,” Warren said, rubbing his eyes, “You’re on Fablehaven’s timezone, right? No way you aren’t exhausted.”

           “But the longer we wait to get a good look at the pool, the more likely we lose our clues,” Seth pleaded.

           “Believe us Seth,” Vanessa said, “We know and we don’t like this. If it is still there in the morning, we’ll change the plan so that Warren and I act as decoys, luring the triclops away so your group can investigate. Preserves are too dangerous at night if it can be avoided.”

           “Maybe too dangerous for you,” Seth scoffed.

           “I understand your frustration,” Vanessa said, “I love Kendra too, and at least she knows that you are her brother. I will not face her having lost her brother, the only one she knows even a little bit, to preventable dangers. Sleep. I have potions for you if you need it.”

           Seth looked behind her to Warren, who gave him a warning look that his arguing was at an end. He looked back at Vanessa’s dark eyes and firm set features.

           “Fine,” Seth said. “I’ll take a sleeping potion, but not one that knocks me out completely.”

           “More of a drowsy solution, I promise,” Vanessa said, going to her dufflebag. She mixed some powders and fruit juice, and held it out, “It will not work right away, so you can get back to your room, even if you drink it now.”

           Seth tilted his head, “Hey, if you controlled me in my sleep, could you use my shadowcharmer abilities? Shadewalking, speaking to the undead, that kind of stuff?”

           Vanessa didn’t answer until he drank the potion, then said, “I do not know. I have controlled wizards and felt their magical cores, but without their knowledge of spellcraft, I was unable to use their magic. Magic is not for the use of mortals. The best comparison would have been controlling Kendra, but her mind was protected, and I could not seize her. I would have to re-bite you and attempt, as Bracken broke off our previous connection. I could not attempt to guess, Seth, and I won’t experiment with you. If your abilities are needed, I trust you to use them well, as I hope you trust me to keep you safe during the attempt.”

           “That’s actually really touching, I’m touched Vanessa,” Seth said, holding a hand over his heart, “I must be the most unique thing you aren’t interested in biting.”

           Vanessa rolled her eyes, “I have bitten creatures of the dark, and they all taste nasty. Creature of the shadows, and teenage boy? That is a very easy pass.”

           “You actually taste people when you bite them?” Seth asked, “Who tasted the best? Was it Kendra? I bet it was Kendra. I bit her once when we were kids.”

           “And we’re done with that conversation,” Warren said, stopping Vanessa from answering. “Forever. Off to bed before the drowsy hits, scoot.”

           “What? You don’t want to know if you tasted better or worse than—” Vanessa started teasing, and Seth was quick to back out of that conversation. Fourteen years old, and he did not need to know biting preferences for Vanessa, and how her boyfriend ranked.

           Seth fell asleep, and woke up to the moon hitting his face, almost blinding. He felt refreshed and awake, not a hint of drowsy. It was rare he woke up like this, normally Kendra was awake first. Seth sat up. Or, he tried too, but sleeping in a hammock made sitting up a test of abdominal muscles. He rolled out of his hammock, took note that Tanu was sleeping across from him, Calvin wrapped up in a handkerchief for a blanket on the windowsill, and Seth quietly made his way out of the hut.

           He wandered until he realized that the whispers of the undead were getting louder. Then he walked with a purpose up spiral stairs and across rope bridges he stopped before a door carved into what had to be the biggest tree in existence. It felt like the Blackwell, though a little less desperate. Instead of suffering pleas, there were questions about directions.

           Left here, and again…or was it right?

           A thousand repetitions of this circle should get me out…

           Does wandering endlessly truly break up the monotony of eternal existence?

           “I see…this is what it means to be a shadow charmer,” Savani’s voice broke his listening, and he saw the woman step onto the platform behind him.

           “Yep, walking around in the middle of the night to figure out where the undead are,” Seth said. “And your excuse?”

           Savani held up a bracelet of three large shells and several smaller shells, “We have three caretaker homes at this preserve, each designed to better weather certain seasons. This is the winter quarter, even though I should have welcomed you in the spring mansion. This bracelet alerts me whenever someone or something approaches one of the prisons at any of the homes, and will transport me to interfere. I assume you were not planning on releasing these entities.”

           “No, just wanted to know where they are,” Seth said, looking back at the door, “They sound different than most of the undead. Like they’re…wandering. They think they are going somewhere.”

           “The spirits here are trapped by a maze, just as much as they are by the barrier,” Savani said. “My people learned how to draw unwanted entities into certain designs, tricking them into wandering those corridors rather than through the village. It is a complicated magic, but one that does not require a wizard if you have the right blood and soul.”

           “So like, at least they get puzzle books with their prison sentence, I approve,” Seth said, “They sound a little less miserable than the undead usually do.”

           “Are you familiar with Djinni?” Savani asked.

           “Genies?” Seth said, the name sounding familiar, “A little. My other Grandma tried to make a deal with one, it got to ask her three questions she had to answer truthfully. When she refused to answer one, the Genie turned her into a chicken.”

           “I lost one of my staff to similar circumstances concerning the Djinni that rests just inside this door. A spirit that wandered here from the mainland; they were not so easily trapped by our mazes, but fell remarkably easily to four walls,” she said, thinking, “My sister, Alma, engaged in the question game, three for three, taking turns, and learned that the sunset pearl had been taken off the preserve before Djinni asked how to unweave spirit mazes and she refused to answer.”

           “They only know about stuff inside the preserve right?” Seth asked.

           “Only when asked can she gain access to her sight, which extends to past and a little into the future,” Savani said. “My sister’s remaining questions that she could not ask were about who took the sunset pearl, and the location of the Weki flute that soothes the triclops.”

           “I can go in and ask her,” Seth volunteered.

           Savani laughed, “I could never ask you to go in with so little preparation!”

           “Seems to me everyone fails at the game because they had too much preparation,” Seth said. “You need to let your non-local idiot walk in with absolutely no preparation. I don’t know anything about this preserve or what might free her. Sure I know some secrets, but nothing that would help her get free. And it’s just information. She can’t ask me to do things for her, right?”

           “The young always risk their lives for so little,” Savani said, shaking her with a quiet laugh. “Even if I were willing to lose another ally to that monster after losing my sister, something I’m sure you understand, none of your protectors would let you go over them.”

           “That’s why we do it here and now,” Seth said, “I’ve negotiated with tougher customers than this. I’ve talked down both the Totem Wall and the Singing Sisters. And I convinced a centaur to let me ride on his back. I’m pretty talented at walking away from these things.”

           “That is impressive,” Savani said, “But even with those dangerous consultations in your past, our situation is not so risky. And wandering towards the most secure prison at night alone does not convince me that you have the discipline to converse with this creature. Any word out of your mouth that is not the answer the answer to her question after you enter her chamber is a lie and gives her freedom to leave. You strike me as the sarcastic sort, and that will get you killed.”

           “Yeah, some of my wraith friends didn’t get my jokes either,” Seth said, remembering Whiner. “I suppose knock-knock jokes are out?”

           “Most definitely,” Savani said, “You are refreshing to speak to. Much like Warren, but less burdened. Does the chill of this dungeon not bother you?”

           “Chill?” Seth asked, looking around, “It’s been ridiculously hot since we got here. It finally feels nice.”

           “The unnatural dread make many fail to converse with the Djinni,” Savani said thoughtfully. “After speaking, I am a bit more inclined to let you try with the Djinni, and hold back my assent almost solely on the rifts I do not wish to cause with the rest of our allies. Should the triclops still haunt us when they awake, I will allow you to present this plan as an option to them.”

           “Sounds like permission to me,” Seth said. He spun and grasped the door handle. In that touch, he found himself on the opposite side of door. Apparently just touching the doorknob was enough to get a mortal inside the prison, though he was willing to bet it would take the caretaker to get out. There was a single door to his right, and beyond that a spiral staircase covered with woven mats of crazy designs. He felt the presence of wraiths and the undead just before him, and it took a bit to figure out that they were trapped inside the mats.

           Then a phantom stumbled up the stairs, and he realized not all of them were trapped in mats. Just to his left was a door with another handle and no hinges.

           Expecting it this time, Seth reached out and grasped the handle.

           “Oh? Two visitors so close together after a century of silence,” the Djinni said. “A baby shadow charmer, no less. I assume you are here to play my riddle game like that last one.”

           The Djinni was surprisingly pretty. Usually Kendra got the pretty ones, and he got the cool ones who were half skeleton half putrid guts. The flowing pink dress threw him for a second. But she had white skin, red eyes, and choppy blue hair. Her skin was smooth, except for the bags under her eyes, and her hair looked like it could use a good washing.

           Seth nodded to the Djinni’s question.

Then he breathed in, and a hand came up over his mouth to stop him from gagging. His eyes left the Djinni  to the ground next to her, covered partially by her cloak. For some reason, when Savani said her sister had been killed by the Djinni, he had never imagined what had happened to her sister’s body. This wasn’t like the zombie farm, or even when Coulter died in his arms. The body was weeks decayed. Skin and organs were liquifying and leeking over the floor, bones starting to jut out on the ribcage and he could only be glad he couldn’t see Savanni’s sister’s face.

           “I have a fondness for little adventurers,” the Djinni said with a rosy smile, watching him watch the body. She even threw in a casual caress of her last victim. “I will recite the rules for you if you nod now.”

           Seth nodded, suddenly regretting everything. He made himself focus on the Djinni.

           “Very well, my rules are simple,” she said, standing up but still leaning against the wall of her prison cell, “You may only speak the answers to my questions and questions of your own. You have as much time as you need to answer. Should you speak else, I may extract a price from you for disturbing me, and as you can see, it includes killing you. Should you speak a lie, I am freed from my prison and will enjoy wrecking the meager protections left to this house on my way out. My sight it limited to this preserve, but it extends to everywhere in this preserve and all the way through the past, and twenty-eight days into the future. You may indicate you are unsatisfied with my answer, but may not ask follow-up questions, I can do the same. Upon being satisfied with my final answer, you will be teleported out of my diminutive abode. Nod if you are ready to begin, little adventurer.”

           Simple rules. Follow the rules, and they can’t touch you. He would just have to think through his answers before speaking. Despite what Kendra says, he can think before talking. At least, that’s what Kendra used to say, and probably wouldn’t take long to say again. Seth nodded and made himself remove his hands and accept the smell. The smell wasn’t worse than the zombie farm, even if the body was.

           “Then I, Skamboli, ask this for my first question: what are the ways out of my confinement that you know about?” she asked.

           Seth thought for a minute, going over each way he thought might work.

           “I only know a few,” Seth said slowly, “if I tell a lie, you are free. I assume that if the caretaker released you, you could go free. I don’t know for sure, but I assume if someone busted down your door from the outside, you would probably be freed. Burned the tree prison down, though you might die that way. And…a trained shadow charmer, not me, could probably unlock your door. People have told me that once I learn control over my powers, I can undo locks, but I don’t know how yet.”

           Skamboli waited, but nothing happened. “Very honest, I approve. Though a wiser adventurer would not volunteer information about their weaknesses. You may ask your first question.”

           Better ask Savani’s questions first. “Who took the sunset pearl?”

           Her red eyes flashed white for a second then went back to red. “The dark unicorn goes by many names, but you know him as Ronodin. He stole the pearl on his first visit to this sanctuary.”

           That was bad and good. Bad, because Ronodin likely put it where he was keeping Kendra, on the Phantom Island, but good because it narrowed their goals and they were already working on getting to the Phantom Isle anyway. Maybe he could use the horn to send a message to Bracken to pick up the pearl on his way out with Kendra?

           Seth nodded at the Djinni, hopefully indicating he was satisfied with her answer. Not looking at the body. She never said he could verbally say if he was satisfied, just dis-satisfied, and didn’t want to risk it. He didn’t want to talk more than he had to.

           “Is there any questions I could ask that you would be unwilling to answer?” Skamboli said. This was the question that left grandma laying eggs for months.

           Again, Seth thought carefully.

           “Plenty of things I wouldn’t want to answer,” Seth decided, “Embarrassing moments, secrets about our plans against the dragons in the upcoming dragon war that I promised not to share, too much information about my friends and family. Secrets that would result in my death if I shared them with you due to other promises I have made. Really don’t want to share that one, it wouldn’t benefit you at all and would end up with me dead. That one is about my dealings with the Singing Sisters, and wouldn’t interest you at all, so please don’t ask that one. But I would share any of it, if you asked, because I need to take the answers to my questions back to my friends.”

           Skamboli waited, then nodded at Seth. Seth hesitated for a moment, because the name of the flute Savani mentioned five minutes ago was already lost from his head. He needed a minute to carefully pick his words.

           “Where is the magic flute that can soothe the currently rampaging triclops?” Seth asked at last.

           Again, her eyes flashed a blinding white.

           “The Weki flute is buried amongst the treasure of the Fairy Queen’s shrine on this island,” Skamboli said.

           Uggh, normally they left the fairy shrine stuff to Kendra, though the Fairy King might let him take something from there. Or maybe getting Fairy Struck Tess to ask would be better. Still, much better news than the flute being lost forever. Seth nodded.

           “What would convince you to free me from my prison, little adventurer?” she asked, sounding tired.

           Seth had not expected that question. What would convince him to free a dangerous being? He took longer to think through his answer to this one than any other. The smell and taste of the last life she had taken all around him, so much worse than the zombie farm.

           “A sincere and binding promise to never hurt another sentient being again,” Seth said, at last, and his eyes finally went back to the body. He saw the swollen, distorted face of Savani’s sister, and knew he wouldn’t ever forget it. “But from everything I know, that is against your very nature and an impossible promise to keep.” He looked away and back at her, “Still, if you were able to convince me you’d do that? I’d do my best to help you. I would do my best to convince Savani that you won’t attack her, help find a nice new lair for you somewhere on this preserve. You could have been a lot meaner, a lot stricter and done more to trip me up, but you didn’t, which makes me like you. I have been double crossed a lot in my life though, so I refuse to free you on anything less than a perfect, binding promise.”

           Skamboli waited, then nodded, a small smile on her lips. Now it was time for the real reason he had jumped into this encounter, the information that would make it all worth it. He thought over his question a couple of times, looking for loopholes or ways to get more information out of it, and asked.

           “Where will my sister Kendra be on the preserve in the next twenty-eight days?”

           Again, her eyes flashed white, though this time they softened slowly back to their red. “The future is not certain, but many futures show Kendra at this preserve in 77 hours and making her way to the sacred pool. She will venture into the domain of a wraith, then leave. It grows hazier, but Kendra will also visit the Bridge Cove, then Baga Lao sometime after that. Leaving Baga Lao, she does not return within the time of my sight.”

           Kendra. Here. Seth almost said something, almost said thank you, then stopped himself with a snap of his jaw. He nodded.

           “That concludes my little game. Congrats, you are the first to pass without retribution in a while. You are right, I cannot promise not to harm in exchange for my freedom. Still, this has been quite entertaining, and in Jighandi even. You have goodness in you, little adventurer, try not to die too quickly on this preserve.”

           Seth was transported out. Savani was standing in the little hallway, arms folded, when he appeared. She grabbed him by the shoulder and turned him towards the exit

           Savani forcibly shoved him out of the prison, where Grandma was waiting for him.

           “So, good news, I wisely used my resources and found out vital information on where Kendra is going to be, as well as the sunset pearl and the flute to stop the triclops” Seth said. “Bad news, I’m going to throw up.”

           Seth rushed to the edge of the platform and started heaving, losing the dinner he had eaten.

           “I understand now what Ruth and Stan warned me when letting you out of my sight,” Grandma Larsen said, putting a hand on his back. “Of all the trouble I was watching out for, you purposefully going to chat up a djinni never even crossed my mind.”

           Tears leaked out of his eyes as he threw up some more. It was horrible, he’d thought that after everything, after regularly conversing with the undead for years, after seeing so many people die, he would never loose his stomach over something like a dead body. But the smell…

           …he gagged some more, even though there was nothing left. He was sticky and gross and the humidity made it feel like the vomit was sticking to him more than he knew it was. Eventually a glass of water was offered, and he used it to rinse his mouth. He nodded his thanks at Savani, and accepted the wet towel as well.

           His breathing evened out and he said, “For Kendra. I did it for Kendra.”

           “Seth, you are part of a team now,” Grandma said, “And you aren’t leading things here like you were back at Wyrmroost. We work together, or not at all. Savani told you she didn’t want you to speak to the Djinni, and you disregarded her. This is her home, hers to protect, and you violated that trust. How is what you did any different than Knox going into the dungeons with Tess to check out the barrel?”

           “Savani said the only reason she didn’t want me to talk to the Djinni was that she worried about setting off everyone’s ‘protect Seth’ sensors,” Seth said, not looking her in the eye, “I thought I figured it out, but you’re right, I didn’t know, I wasn’t ready. It’s what I thought I had to do, and I’m sorry.” Savani’s sister’s body flashed in his mind again, the way Skamboli stroked sagging flesh, and he pressed his face into the towel.

He was stronger and braver than this. He was. He had proved it over and over, and he’d seen people die. He’d seen his sister poison herself into a frothing, empty shell. He’d seen battle wounds from the battle of Zzyzx.

This shouldn’t be worse than that, but it was.

           Grandma sighed and rubbed his back. “What happened? Tell me.”

           “It’s nothing,” Seth said, pulling himself to his feet. “Nothing I haven’t seen before. It just…I wasn’t prepared. I promise I won’t act on my own again.”

           “That is not the answer to my question,” Grandma scolded, standing as well, “I don’t care about how Ruth and Stan let you run about and keep secrets, and I don’t care about what you’ve seen before. We are going to confront a demon for training tomorrow, and you have been unsettled and you have been reckless, so we are going to talk until I trust that you can handle what’s going to happen.”

           “It doesn’t matter if I talk about it or not,” Seth said, “We need to get me trained so I can get to the Phantom Isle, and we need to do it fast. I can handle a demon, I won’t lose it like that again.”

           “Seth, Honey,” Grandma said, and she pulled him into a hug he resisted, “Even those of us who have done dangerous missions on magical preserves our entire lives need people to talk to. People to trust. Time to break down. Mortals aren’t meant for the kind of exposure you and your sister have been through. Special abilities or not. Talk to me.”

           “It’s nothing, I mean it,” Seth said, and his eyes found Savani over Grandma’s shoulders, who had been watching patiently the entire time. “It wasn’t worse than seeing Kendra’s stingbulb kill herself, and I got through that, so I’m okay.”

           “Shadow charmers have a reputation,” Savani said quietly, “Of moving and operating in the dark, with demons who seal their secrets sworn in blood. I would recommend  letting things come to light, if you can. If you are trying to spare me, I think I have guessed what unsettled you. I had hoped this Djinni to favor the clean and quick kill, but we knew the consequences.”

           “I’m sorry,” Seth said, hoping she understood the extent of his apology.

           “Ahh,” Grandma said releasing him, “Death. You have dealt far too much with loved ones and friends dying for your age, and you have dealt much with those long dead, the process in between is…unpleasant, unsettling.”

           “It smelled really bad,” Seth admitted, closing his eyes and seeing the body all over again. “Worse than the zombie farm. I don’t know how I breathed, much less talked. It was just…everywhere in that small cell. I won’t try something like that again, not without a lot more preparation and talking it out with everyone.”

           Savani said nothing for a long moment, “You make raising my own son look easy, Seth Sorenson. I believe your sincere desires, though it will take a while for me to trust your restraint. Gloria, remain by Seth’s side for the remainder of his stay here. He does not understand our magic, and while that saved him from knowing anything that could help the Djinni, it also made him dangerous to the integrity of the Woven Prison.”

           “That is acceptable,” Grandma said.

           Savani sighed, and shook her head, “That being said, the information you gathered is invaluable and I am also in your debt for asking. I was listening at the door and recorded everything. We will work on securing the flute, preparing for Ronodin’s return, and locating the Sunset Pearl. We will have much to discuss when the rest of our companions awake.”

Grandma nodded, “I agree, come Seth. There is still three hours until dawn, and we need what rest we can, even if sleep is gone. You will be sleeping in my room from now on.”

           Seth winced, but it was hardly the worst punishment he could have gotten. Probably better than he should have gotten. The women turned to leave.

           Seth went to the room his Grandmother had been using, to laid down in the second bed, while Grandma Larsen curled up in hers. No more hammock after tonight. He thought he had been past his impulse issues. He had been careful at Wyrmroost to not take unnecessary risks, to consult Kendra in most things, and he had felt good. Like he had learned his lesson and finally grown into someone worth trusting with important stuff.

           Now it felt like he was back to square one. Back to being the dumb kid that captured fairies overnight and trusted demons.

           Seth missed his sister.

[horansqueen]

Stuck With You - Chapter 35

Chapter 35: Things I’ll Never Say

🡪chapter 1  🡪chapter 2  🡪chapter 3  🡪chapter 4  🡪chapter 5  🡪chapter 6  🡪chapter 7  🡪chapter 8  🡪chapter 9  🡪chapter 10  🡪chapter 11 🡪chapter 12 🡪chapter 13 🡪chapter 14 🡪chapter 15 🡪chapter 16 🡪chapter 17 🡪chapter 18 🡪chapter 19 🡪chapter 20 🡪chapter 21 🡪chapter 22 🡪chapter 23 🡪chapter 24 🡪chapter 25 🡪chapter 26 🡪chapter 27 🡪chapter 28 🡪chapter 29 🡪chapter 30 🡪chapter 31 🡪chapter 32  🡪chapter 33 🡪chapter 34

College Enemies To Lovers AU

characters // masterlist // instagrams // mood board

If I could say what I want to say I'd say I want to blow you, away Be with you every night Am I squeezing you too tight If I could say what I want to see I want to see you go down On one knee Marry me today Guess, I'm wishing my life away With these things I'll never say

It don't do me any good It's just a waste of time What use is it to you What's on my mind If ain't coming out We're not going anywhere So why can't I just tell you that I care

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DEVON

                                                  I woke up with a groan and felt my head throb and ache just like it would do if I was hungover. I hadn't had a single drop even if I should have when I remembered the way I painted and for how long. I was pretty sure I had fallen asleep on the floor but when I opened my eyes, the first thing I saw was Niall's pretty face very close to mine.

My heart jumped in my chest and my lips parted before I licked them. He was sleeping and he looked so peaceful and motionless that I started wondering if he was actually breathing. I slipped my hand under the cover to reach for his naked chest and held my breath at how warm his skin was. It was a miracle my cold hand didn't wake up up but I still waited a few seconds, trying to feel his heart beating in his chest.

Every time I looked at him, I felt something twist in my stomach. I knew he wanted us to be official and if I listened to my heart, that's what I wanted too, but risking it was so scary I couldn't find the courage to give in to his request. I thought about Henry and how he had broken me, and I thought about Abby and how Niall could break me even more. There was no was I could heal my heart if he hurt me, it would be turned to complete dust and I knew it.

I found myself jealous of the way Niall was in love with Abby, and how he would have done anything for her. I was jealous of a past relationship of the man I had refused to date and I hated myself for it. I knew it wasn't rational and that it made no sense but I couldn't help it.

Perhaps, if I had met Niall before I met Henry... maybe if he had met me before he met Abby... In that specific case, maybe we could give each other the chance and the love we both deserved. The problem was that we both went through the exact same thing, or almost, and apparently, two persons who went through the same thing can understand each other, but can't help each other. I didn't know how true that saying was but I had heard it enough to hear it echo in my head every time I wanted to love again.

I brought my hand up to his face and brushed my fingertips on his cheek so softly that I felt a shiver run in my back. One of my fingers reached his bottom lip and I felt myself tear up. I had never met in my life a man like Niall and he was slipping through my fingers because of my fears and anticipations. It was unfair, and it was stupid, but the knot in my stomach was there permanently and I couldn't make it disappear. All the feelings that came back when I saw Henry again made me remember how bad love hurts and at that exact moment, laying in bed in front of Niall, I knew it was true.

I desperately wanted to kiss him but I knew he didn't want us to do anything anymore so I just swallowed hard and got out of the bed slowly. I searched for my painting and found it on the desk in a corner of the room, sighing low. I hated it and started nibbling on my bottom lip, trying to remember that I always hated my art in the first few days after making it, and that it was normal. Besides, artists are the worst critics of their own art.

I heard Niall move in bed and turned around just in time to see him reach for a pillow and bring it against him. He let out a short whimper and it made me wonder if he would have cuddled me if I was still in bed. I shook my head, trying to push that thought away, and finally search for a pen in the room, finally finding one in one of the drawers. I sat on the couch and started scribbling a few words on a paper. I really sucked at writing songs, but I could clearly remember a melody, especially one that really touched me, and it came in handy at that moment.

When I was done, I re-read what was written on the paper and raised my nose up before sighing again and folding the sheet, putting it away in my bag. I decided to take a quick shower to take the paint off my arms and face and when I walked back in the room, Niall was awake. I stopped walking and held my breath at the sight of his naked back. It's not like I had never seen Niall only wearing boxers but perhaps knowing I'm never get to touch him again made something twist in my stomach.

"Oh, hey." he let out when he turned around. "How did you sleep?"

I wanted to tell him that I slept better than I had in a while, if only because he was with me in the same bed. When I woke up, I felt the warmth of his body emanate on mine even if we weren't touching and I loved it way too much. I couldn't tell him that it would have been even better if he was holding me all night, but I wanted to, because I felt it all over my body. I felt it so intensely that I had to swallow a lump in my throat.

"Was nice, and you?"

"Good, thanks." he said, putting on sweatpants. "Better than the floor."

I sent him a small smile that he sent back and I licked my lips. "Thanks for bringing me in bed and tucking me in, last night. I vaguely remember."

"You're welcome, Devie."

I felt my heart flutter at the nickname and I realized I'd never get over it.

"So, you're going skiing today?"

"Snowboarding, yea." he let out, searching for his stuff in his bags. "You're gonna join us downstairs in a few hours?"

I nodded quickly and pressed my lips together as I stared at him. I loved how he moved around the room like it was just a random day and we were just used tp be around each other like that. To some extent, we were, since we shared the same room on campus, but it felt slightly different at that moment, more intimate, maybe. I let my mind wander, imagining what it would be like if we ended up dating and living together. Was that what I would see in the morning before he actually went to work?

"Okay, I'm ready. I'll see you later?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Mmhm." I nodded as I imagined him walking closing to me and bending down to kiss me.

Why did I like this scenario so much it made my heartbeats accelerate? I watched him leave and when the door closed behind him, I felt extremely empty and lonely. I got up after a few minutes and walked to my painting again, running my fingertips slowly on the colors I had used. Was it crazy to start painting with light colors so early after a break up? I turned my head to look at the door, hoping it would open again as my heart thumped hard in my chest. It was Niall, I knew it. It was him that brought in me all these new emotions and I liked it so much I felt myself tear up.

Without thinking, I searched through my bag and found a few pictures I had taken. I had taken the time to develop them by myself in the college darkroom and I had loved the result. Despite myself, the lights had added a few pale yellow spots and it looked amazing. At first, I wanted to numerize them and modify them but I realized I didn't need to.

I sat in bed and looked at them carefully. There were no full faces on any of them. My favorite was one of  Niall's naked shoulder with a bit of his back and hair. We could also see the top of my head and part of my forehead in it too as I lied down beneath him, and his fingers were slipped in my hair. I had no idea why this specific shot made me feel emotional but it was strong and it made something twist in my chest.

I got up and grabbed the piece of paper I had put in my bag earlier before I walked to the desk, sitting down in front of it. Slowly and carefully, I copied the lyrics I had scribbled while Niall was asleep behind the picture, along with a few lyrics that didn't belong to me. I had taken a lot of pictures in my life, but nothing like this one. Perhaps it was only because it meant so much to me... because he meant so much to me. It actually made me want to pain that picture and I quickly grabbed a blank canvas from my stuff before grabbing a pen. I was never really good at drawing people, I felt like the human body was too complex to draw, but I decided to make an exception this time. It didn't really matter anyway. When I'd add paint, the forms wouldn't be as defined and even if I knew nothing could be better than the actual picture, I felt like not painting it would eat me up inside.

I couldn't tell how long it took me but when I didn't stop until I was done. Normally, a painting like that could take me many days to create but somehow, it had turned out the way I wanted after only a few hours. I left it on the floor and decided to finally take an other shower, if only to take the paint from my hands, arms and face. I got out and quickly dressed before checking my phone. I had no message and I raised my nose up, telling myself they were probably busy skiing but I still decided to get downstairs, to the common living room. I loved how all the couches were placed with a fireplace in the middle. The first thing that made my heart jump in my chest was a laughter. I recognized it because I had to hear it for hours on a certain night and every time, it made my heart drop in my chest. Today was no exception. My eyes roamed around and found Abby who was laughing, throwing her head back. She was still wearing her beanie and coat and when I noticed Niall was the one she was talking with, I felt nauseous. He laughed too before taking a sip of his drink and Abby moved closer, placing her hand on his arm and letting it slip down.

I swallowed hard, knowing it probably meant nothing but telling myself that if this simple gesture made me feel like that, I'd never be able to be around Niall if he was dating an other girl, especially if that girl was Abby.

I held my breath and my lips parted when Niall turned around and our eyes met. I felt myself tear up and shook my head lightly before turning on my heels and leaving. I tried to keep my tears in, knowing it was ridiculous to be sad for that, and just as I was reaching the elevator, I felt his warm hand on my arm.

"Hey, Devie, where are you going?" he asked softly as I turned around. His face changed when he saw mine and took a step closer. "Woah, what's wrong, why are you crying?"

"I'm not crying!" I let out a bit too roughly, taking a step back. "I didn't want to annoy you while you were flirting with your ex girlfriend."

"Devie, we weren't flirting." he argued. "At least, I was not."

"She was all over you." I just replied.

He rolled his eyes and shook his head. "So? That's what Abby does! Besides, you're texting with Henry and I haven't thrown a tantrum about it!"

"I'm not texting with Henry, what are you talking about?"

"You told me he messaged you when we were at my apartment!" he pointed out, making me frown.

"Yes! But I never said I answered him!" I let out a but louder. "Because I didn't!"

His face changed, his traits softened and he took a step closer. "You didn't?"

His voice was low and gentle and it calmed me instantly.

"No. I want to move on from him, I don't love him anymore."

Once again, Niall took a step closer and took his beanie off. I felt my lips curl very slightly on the light at the sight of his hair and he quickly passed his hand in it, messing it even more. He looked so pretty I felt my head tilt a bit on the right.

"If... If it makes you feel better, I don't have feelings for Abby anymore either. I can't even understand why I ever was in love with her." he added with a shrug. "Not that you really care, because you don't love me like that, right?"

I stared at him and blinked a few times, trying to decide what I was supposed to say. I could be mad at him but I loved the way he was looking at me, as if I was the only person that mattered in the world, as if he was about to jump on me to make me feel all the damn feelings he had for me inside him.

"Did I say that?" I just asked with an amused smile before licking my lip, taking a step back.

"Hey, stay with us, we were about to go out for dinner." he quickly proposed as we heard the doors of the elevator open. "You came here to spend time with your friends, right?"

My eyes roamed on him and I finally nodded. "Alright."

----

Niall was still telling me a story when we walked back in our room. It was late but neither of us really cared. I had a small talk with Louis who presented me his new girlfriend Eleanor, and I immediately liked her. Lewis was funny and the way Daxia looked at him made me happy. I tried not to give too much attention to Noah but he still bought me a drink and we had a small chat. All I wanted, though, was to be close to Niall, and I ended up scared he'd be annoyed that I followed him better than his own shadow. At some point, he had placed his hand on my thigh, moving closer to me to ask me if I wanted an other drink, but all I could think about was the fact that he was touching me.

We didn't drink too much though and when we closed the door of our room behind us, I was laughing because he was funny, and not because I was tipsy. He turned around and took a few steps back as I followed him, but when his lips curled into a cheeky smile, it made me frown.

"What do you have in mind?" I asked, unable to stop smiling.

"Are you tired?"

I frowned more but it only made his smile bigger. "Mm, no. Why?"

"Do you trust me?"

That question took me by surprise but I didn't have to ask myself the question. The answer came naturally. "Yes."

And I trusted him. I trusted him more than I trusted pretty much anyone, and it was one of the things that scared me in this relationship, whatever it was.

"Thank you." he just whispered, holding out his hand to me.

I breathed in but still slipped my palm on his and quickly, he pulled me out of the room. Instead to take the elevators, he brought me to the stairs and we ran down until the main floor, stopping abruptly in front of a door. I held my breath as Niall opened it very slowly, peeking out for a few seconds and finally holding his hand back for me. I grabbed it and he turned around to look in my eyes, bringing his finger on his lips to tell me to keep quiet. I nodded and followed him on the other side of the door until we reached a second door. He tried to open it but groaned and raised his nose up when he realized it was locked.

"Fuck."

I moved to look through the window and my lips curled when I noticed a pool. The lights of the room were off but there were a few at the bottom of the pool and the sight was great.

"I'm gonna try to steal the keys." he added, taking me out of my thoughts and making me blink.

"No wait!" I stopped him in a whisper, holding his arm. "What if you get caught?"

He sent me a small smile and his eyes roamed on my face before he shook his head. "Don't worry."

He left and I felt my hand slip from his arm. I held my breath and remained motionless as I waited for him to come back and it seemed to take forever. When he appeared again, my heart jumped in my chest, scared that it could be someone else, but he stopped right in front of me as I raised my eyebrows. A smirk quickly draw itself on his lips and he moved his hand up, showing me a  keychain with at least 20 keys on it.

"Okay, I'm impressed." I admitted low, making him chuckle.

It took him a few tries and he finally unlocked the door. We walked in slowly and when he closed the door behind us, I turned around to look at him.

"I don't have a swimsuit." I admitted, tilting my head.

"You have underwear." he chuckled, making me raise my eyebrows. "What? Nothing I haven't seen, isn't it what you said the other day?"

I pressed my lips together and moved my chin in his direction. "You, first."

He chuckled again and without hesitation, grabbed the bottom of his shirt, moving it over his head. I let my eyes travel on his chest as he worked on the button and zipper of his jeans, finally taking them off along with his socks. He looked way too good, illuminated by the soft lights in the pool, and my heart skipped a beat. I moved my gaze up until my eyes met his again and he sent me a soft smile.

"Your turn."

[after-avenging-hours]

Heart Skip [15]: Steve x Reader

Series Summary:  A soulmate AU where from the moment you are born, two partners share a heartbeat.  They race in times of joy, slow in times of sadness, and they skip at the same moment.

Word Count: 2617

Warnings: None

Heart Skip / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 /  Part 9 / Part 10 / Part 11 / Part 12 /  Part 13 / Part 14

Gif Credit

The splattering of water droplets against tile is the only sound that fills the empty space of the bathroom.  Steve’s broad frame nearly fills the small shower stall.  He stands unmoving, shoulders tensed, one hand pressed to the tile as his head hangs low.  He’s so lost to his thoughts; he doesn’t even hear you approach.

You place a tentative touch to the center of his back, stepping behind him.  He inhales sharply, snapping out of it.  He glances at you from over his shoulder before pushing off the wall and turning around.  He sees the concern in your eyes and pulls you in close.

“I’m okay,” he tries to assure you.

You press your cheek to his chest, the water droplets pressing into your skin and sliding down your neck.  “No, you’re not.”

He holds you tighter, resting his head against the top of yours.  You wrap your arms around him and mold your body to his.  You both need this.  To feel as much skin to skin contact as possible.  Not to incite anything sexual, but because both of you need the reassurance.  Need to know that, at least physically, you were both still okay.  You had come far too close to losing each other.

Steve fingers ghost up and down the length of your spine, feeling the reflection of your heartbeat against his chest.  Slowly some of the tension in his body begins to ease.  Not everything, but at least it’s a start.

“I should have gone back for him,” he whispers just above the sound of the shower.

“Steve…”  You squeeze your arms around him.  “There’s no way you could have known.  And even if you had…  There was no time.  You had to stop Schmidt.”  You lift your head from his chest to look into his gaze.  “None of that is your fault.”

His eyes are sad as he looks back.  “It feels like it is.”

You lift a hand to cradle the back of his neck, pulling his head down until your foreheads touch.  You both stay like that until the water begins to turn cold.  You reach around him to shut off the water before leading him out of the shower. You both towel off together.

“What can I do to help with the mission?” you ask.  You’re so sick of feeling useless, you’ll do just about anything.

Steve meets your gaze for a moment, thinking it over.  “Well, I can’t exactly walk into SHIELD headquarters stark naked, now can I?” His lips quirk into a small grin.

You raise a curious brow. “What did you have in mind?”

 “I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” you grumble quietly, pulling the uniform taught over Steve’s torso.

He grins down at you in amusement.  “If you’re gonna fight a war, you gotta wear a uniform.”

You roll your eyes. “You’re damn lucky I created this based on your actual measurements.  It’s supposed to be hanging off a mannequin, not going into battle.  This suit isn’t going to protect you like your other one.” Your fingers fiddle with the straps going down his front, making sure they’re at matching lengths leading to his utility belt.

“I know.  I’ll be careful.”

You release a low sigh when there’s not much else you can mess with.  “I guess it’s a good thing I don’t work there anymore either.  I’d totally be fired for this.  I may have been the one to make it, but it’s still stealing from the government.”

“We’re not stealing it. Only borrowing,” he grins crookedly.

You raise an unamused brow. “Borrowing without asking is still stealing.”

“If it means that much to you, we can give it back when I’m done.” He chuckles.

You shake your head and attempt to suppress a smile. “Just shut up and kiss me already.” You tug at his uniform to pull him into a kiss. His gloved hands move up to cup your cheeks as he kisses you long and slow.

“Cap, we gotta go,” you hear Sam from the other room.

You both pull back with equal sighs of disappointment.  “Duty calls,” Steve mutters, eyes flickering over your face.

“Good luck, soldier. Stay safe.”  Your hands give his uniform one last squeeze before you pull back.

He nods once.  “You too.”  He steps forward for one last quick kiss.  “I love you,” he breathes against your lips before moving back.

“I love you, too,” you whisper, turning away as he begins to head for the door.  You don’t have it in you to watch him leave.

You move to the pile of clothing that Steve set aside after changing into the uniform. You reach for the jacket he had been wearing during the fight against Bucky. It’s dusty and smells like gunmetal and smoke, but it’s still warm. You find yourself slipping it on over your shoulders trying to draw comfort and strength from it.

“Are you ready?”

You turn to find Fury standing in the doorway. “For what?” you ask in confusion.

He lifts his good arm, a set of car keys dangling from his hand. “You’re my ride.”

You follow him outside to the nondescript van Maria had been using. You scramble into the driver’s seat as Furry climbs into the back where he’ll be hidden from view. He gives you a set of directions to a private airfield nearby where he has a helicopter waiting.

You follow his directions, trying to take back roads and avoid popular areas to stay off SHIELD’s radar. You’re not even sure how much time has passed by the time you make it to the airfield. Based on your accelerated heartrate, you can tell that Steve has already gotten himself in a world of trouble. Your hands tighten around the steering wheel as you do everything you can to stay calm.

“So, what now?” you ask after parking on the runway near a black helicopter.

“Now?” Furry responds, before you hear the back door to the van slide open. “Now, you stay here where it’s safe until we get back.” He exits from the van and slides the door shut behind him.

“Wha-” Your jaw drops and then you quickly scramble out the door. “Hey, that’s not fair! I’m here to help!”

Fury releases a long sigh and looks at you with zero amusement. “You want to talk to me about what’s not fair? What’s not fair is getting hunted and nearly killed by the very agents that I trained. What’s not fair is having the agency that I have dedicated my entire life to stripped apart in a single day. What’s. Not. Fair. Is having to send your boyfriend to destroy the one thing that was going to be my legacy of protection for the world. So, yeah… you can throw your tantrum and cry all you want, but that won’t change the fact that the best place for you is here. Out of the way, where you can’t get hurt, and where you won’t jeopardize the mission.”

All you can do is stare, mouth agape as he walks away from you and heads for the chopper. The rotor blades soon begin to spin and once the wind picks up, you’re forced to retreat back inside the van. You slam the door shut like a sulking child and watch as the helicopter lifts into the air and disappears out of site.

You sigh loudly and drop your forehead down against the steering wheel. With nothing but silence engulfing you, your thoughts are left to run rampant in your mind. No matter what you did, Fury would only ever see you as Steve’s weakness. The chink in Captain America’s armor. A nuisance. Something to be pushed aside, or locked away for safe keeping.

And maybe he was right. You would have been captured by those Hydra agents if Maria hadn’t come for you when she did. Fury had actually told her to prioritize finding you first, because you were a greater risk to lose to Hydra, than Steve. You couldn’t even manage to stay out of their crosshairs for a single day. What in the world did you expect to be able to do against an entire building and three Helicarriers full of those people?

“Stupid,” you berate yourself, squeezing your eyes shut as they begin to sting. You try to fight off the tears, knowing that if Steve can sense your distress, he’ll become distracted. Yet another thing to add to the list of why you’re his weakness.

Your breath catches when you feel a jolt in your chest. And not a good one. Your eyes snap open and the blood drains from your face. Something is wrong.

Your heartbeat sputters and struggles to keep going, despite the lag that seems to be on the other end. Steve is hurt. Bad.

And you’re all the way out here.

You lift your head back up and find your hand moving to the keys in the ignition. Gritting your teeth, you push your despair to the side and steel your resolve. “Screw this.”

Turning the ignition, you bring the van back to life and make a U-turn on the run way. You’re not entirely certain how to get back, with all the random turns and loops Fury had you take in order to get to the air field. Now that you think about it, the crazy route probably had more to do with confusing your own sense of direction, so you wouldn’t be able to get back on your own, and less about the defensive maneuvers to keep Hydra off your tail.

With a determined huff, you pick a direction and drive, letting your instincts and your connection to Steve guide you. After traveling a few aimless miles, you manage to catch a freeway entrance. From there, the rising smoke in the distance is the only confirmation you need to know you’re heading in the right direction.

You watch in the distance as the last helicarrier left in the air slams into the side of the Triskellion. Your stomach flips upon the impact and you just know that Steve is still on that ship. You pull over abruptly on the side of the freeway and jump out of the van. Your knees slam into the pavement as you bend over and expel what little food you’d had earlier that morning.

Rising back up onto shaky legs, you wipe at your mouth with the back of your hand and stumble around the van. You walk off the freeway and into the copse of trees that line the bank of the river. You lean your weight against the trunk of a tree as you get a front row seat to the horror show before you. The last hellicarrier is steadily losing altitude as the other two burn in a fiery heap of rubble upon what’s left of the Triskellion.

You watch as pieces of debris fall from the belly of the flying ship, and mixed in the middle is a body clad in a red, white, and blue uniform. When his body hits the water, your vision swims and your knees give out once again. You are certain that these are going to be your final moments in this world, when a second body falls out of the ship and dives straight into the river.

Your heartbeat slows and it becomes the only sound you can hear, ringing in your ears. Time seems to come to a standstill.

Then, suddenly, two heads pop back up to the surface.

You release an audible gasp, finding the strength to get back on your feet. You stumble like a newborn fawn, tripping over tree roots and rocks as you make your way down the river bank.

“Steve!” you don’t even feel the water against your legs as you rush forward to help the man dressed in black carry him to shore. The man releases his metal grasp from the strap on Steve’s shoulders, setting him down on the muddy river bank. “Steve!” you call out to him, a choked sob leaving you as you take in the cuts all over his face and the wound on his torso.

A weak cough escapes him and a dribble of water leaks from his open mouth. You whimper in relief when he continues breathing. Your fingers brush against his jaw, tears spilling over and running down your cheeks.

The man in black shifts his weight and begins to step back.

“Wait!” you lift your gaze to meet his. “W-where are you going?”

He stares back at you blankly. “I don’t know.” His voice comes out broken and raw. He turns away and takes a few more steps.

You quickly scramble to your feet. “Bucky!” The man pauses once again, his posture stiffening. “You are Bucky, aren’t you?” you question carefully.

He keeps his back toward you for a long moment, before turning his head just slightly. “I don’t know,” he repeats, this time with anguish in his voice.

Your heart breaks for him. “There’s a van pulled off the side of the freeway, just a short way up. The keys are still in the ignition,” you tell him. “And here,” you quickly shrug out of Steve’s jacket that you’ve still been wearing. You hold the garment out to him. “To cover up your arm.”

Bucky looks down at the metal appendage and frowns before slowly turning toward you and taking the jacket with that same hand. He hesitates for another second, before lifting his gaze to yours once more. “Thank you,” he says the words strangely, like he’s grown unused to the phrase.

“Thank you for saving him,” you respond, glancing briefly back at where Steve lays.

Bucky nods once, stiffly, before turning and disappearing into the brush.

You release a shaky breath and crumple down once more at Steve’s side. The wound at his stomach is continuing to bleed and you know that if you don’t get help for him soon, you will both probably die anyway.

You reach for the commlink in his ear and pull it out. You hope that the thing is water proof, but it’s the only way you’ll be able to contact anyone else. You tuck the device into your own ear. “Hello? Is anyone there?”

All you can hear for a moment is static, before that cuts out and you hear a voice. “Y/N, is that you?”

You sigh and drop your shoulders in relief. “Nat! I’m with Steve. We’re on the west side of the river. He’s hurt. I think he’s been shot.”

“Keep pressure on the wound. We’re coming to you.”

“O-okay.” Your hands shake as you place them over the blood-soaked patch on his uniform. He groans in pain as you apply pressure to the spot, but continues to remain unconscious. “Don’t you die on me, Soldier,” you try to say firmly, but your voice breaks.

It feels like hours have passed by the time you hear the beat of a helicopter. Looking up, you recognize Fury’s copter as it flies above you and lowers onto the freeway. Nat and Sam burst through the trees moments later.

Sam kneels down on the other side of Steve, opening a first aid kit to begin triaging the wound. Nat gently grabs your shoulders and pulls you back. “Hey, you did good,” she encourages, pulling you to your feet.

“Is he going to be okay?” you ask.

“An ambulance is already on the way.”

Your breath catches in your throat as you look down at the blood covering your hands. “Oh God…” you barely manage to get out, before the world fades to black.

Part 16

[bedlamsbard]

Part 14 of the other side AU concept! I know roughly when I want to pause and go back to section one to do revisions for AO3, but until then, concept writing, as I’m enjoying how low pressure this is at the moment.  This section is for very important family feelings.

Previous: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 

About 6.5K below the break.

***

Ezra woke up sluggishly, aware immediately that he was on a starship and that he wasn’t in his usual bunk. He could hear someone else breathing in the same room, but that could have meant anything; since the Chimaera had crashed he had been sleeping in the same makeshift barracks as the remaining death troopers.  He kept his eyes closed, unwilling to reach out into the Force and disappoint himself after what had undoubtedly been another dream of rescue.  He had had a lot of those over the past six years.

Eventually he opened an eye, frowning up at the surface of the top bunk above him – not the ceiling of the Scylla wardroom the death troopers were all sleeping in.  He turned his head slowly, wincing as the movement jarred pain up and down his neck.

Kanan said quietly, “How are you feeling?”

Ezra sat up so quickly he practically concussed himself on the top bunk.  Groaning, he clapped a hand to his forehead, staring at Kanan as the other man unfolded himself from his meditation cushion and came over to him. “You’re real,” Ezra whispered.

He put his free hand out to grab Kanan’s arm.  Kanan was solidly real beneath his fingers, muscle and flesh there beneath the fabric of his shirtsleeve.  He didn’t look the way he usually did in Ezra’s dreams, either; most of the past six years didn’t show on his face, but his hair was cropped shorter than it had ever been except for that last day, his beard cut close against his jaw.  That familiar scar still cut across his white eyes, taking a nick out of the top of his nose.  The metal bracers on his forearms were unfamiliar, painted green with the claw symbol from his old pauldron in white on them.

Ezra hung onto him, trying and failing not to cry.  “You’re real,” he said again, then managed to wake up enough to remember the events of the previous day and a half.  “It was all real.”

He crumpled forward into Kanan’s arms with rather less dignity than he would have preferred, his tears quickly soaking through the shoulder of Kanan’s shirt.  Kanan held him closely, a solid, reassuring bulwark in the Force; all Ezra wanted to do was bask in the warmth of that strength. He was real.  He was real. And here – they were all here.  He was on the Ghost.

“You were – gone,” he said irrationally, the words muffled by the fact he still had his face buried in Kanan’s shoulder.  “You were dead.”

“I got better,” Kanan said gravely, with hint of his old humor. “It didn’t take.”

Ezra finally raised his head, wiping a hand over his tear-streaked face. “You were dead,” he said again.  “You’ve been dead.  I – I felt it.  And I felt – I felt you come back.  But how –” He thought about the World Between Worlds again, the way he had a thousand times over the years, trying to decide if it would have been as awful as Ahsoka had claimed it would be if he had just done it, grabbed Kanan the way he had her.  He touched Kanan gingerly with his mind, wondering if he could sense the strange energy of that place on him, but all he could feel was Kanan.

“It’s a long story,” Kanan said. “And Hera had probably better tell most of it, since she can decide what’s too classified to talk about and I probably shouldn’t.”

Ezra frowned. “But it’s – you, isn’t it?  From – from then.”  He couldn’t say the words out loud, not when he still had nightmares about it.  He thought he probably always would have those nightmares.

Kanan nodded. “Yes.”

“But – I felt – back on Lothal – the Loth-wolves –”

Kanan arched an eyebrow.

“It’s why we went to the temple, when the Empire was tearing it up – studying it,” Ezra tried to explain. “I saw – I felt – you, back then.  If you weren’t dead –”

Kanan sighed. “Ezra, I don’t have an explanation for everything,” he said gently. “The Force works in ways that we can’t always understand – that we aren’t capable of understanding.  And – I know this one pretty personally right now – the Force doesn’t understand space and time in the way that we do.  Space and time don’t exist in the Force in the same way that we live it.  More than one thing can be true at the same time.  And death doesn’t mean the same thing in the Force that it does to us – not when we’re in this form, at least.”

Ezra flinched. “I don’t understand,” he said, always a safe thing to say with Kanan.

“I don’t either,” Kanan said. “The Jedi teach that we are the Force made flesh.”  He lifted his hands, flexing long fingers bared by his fingerless gloves. “We occupy this flesh, but it isn’t what we are.  We’re the Force, and the Force is more than one thing at once.  It’s all things at all times.  It’s one reason we can see possible futures and the past as it could have been, and the present as it might still be somewhere else.”

Ezra scrubbed a hand beneath his eyes again. “I don’t understand,” he repeated. “But – I’m really glad you’re here.”

Kanan grinned. “So am I.”

Ezra hugged him again, hard enough that his abused muscles protested, then sat back heavily on the bunk. “And I feel like I got tossed around by a krykna,” he groaned. “And then stepped on by an AT-AT.”

“For what it’s worth, you don’t look it,” Kanan said, and Ezra groaned again.

“I’ll wait on that until someone else can weigh in,” he said. “Are there clothes around here?” He looked around vaguely, trying to remember what had happened after they had arrived at the Ghost.  He was clean, so he must have showered; he was also wearing a shirt and underwear that weren’t Imperial-issue, and he was sincerely hoping he had put them on himself. He blinked again, finally realizing that he was in Kanan’s cabin.

Kanan leaned over, picked something up, and passed him a pile of fabric. “That should fit,” he said. “There was some guessing involved, but we were all feeling optimistic.”

“You have no idea how glad I’ll be not to wear something that doesn’t have the Imperial seal or the words ‘property of the Galactic Empire’ on it somewhere,” Ezra said.  He ran a hand over his hair, then pulled the strips of leather free and finger-combed it before he pulled it back again.

Kanan started to get up. Ezra grabbed at his arm and said, “Don’t –”

Don’t go, he almost said. Don’t leave me.

Kanan stopped. “I’m not going anywhere,” he said gently. “I thought you might want some privacy.”

Ezra shrugged vaguely. He had been living in a durasteel box for six years and then being watched every time he was outside that box, and he didn’t have a good grasp on the concept anymore.  Either way, the idea of letting Kanan out of his sight for more than a few moments felt like torture just now.

He got dressed while Kanan sat on the meditation cushion, pulling on the boots they had gotten him – more or less identical to his old pair, which had died an ignominious death a few years ago on one of the planets Thrawn had dragged him down to.  It felt unbelievably good not to have a single piece of Imperial-issue gear on him, not even the blaster he had brought with him from Chimaera Camp.  It was there; he just didn’t want to put it on, not yet.

When he finished and turned back, it was to find Kanan offering his outstretched hand.  Ezra froze, his eyes fixed on what lay across his master’s open palm.

“You don’t need a lightsaber to be a Jedi Knight,” Kanan said, “but it’s always nice to have one.”

Ezra reached for it, stopping with his fingers hovering just over the hilt. He could sense the kyber crystal there, attuned to him and eager to be back in his presence.  Then he looked up at Kanan, startled. “Jedi Knight?”

“You’ve had your trials,” Kanan said. “Even if I wasn’t here for them.”

Ezra bit his lip, fighting back the urge to start crying again.  He took the lightsaber from Kanan, weighing it in his palm before he turned it upright and ignited the blade.  It hummed between them, green plasma illuminating the shadows on Kanan’s face.  They lay calmly, with nothing odd or unnatural about them, except the reflection of the blade in his white eyes, like a ghost of his vanished vision.

Ezra deactivated the lightsaber. “I don’t know what to say,” he said, his voice a little shaky.

Kanan put a hand on his shoulder, smiling. “You don’t have to say anything,” he said.

Ezra put the lightsaber carefully onto his belt, then hugged Kanan again.  When he pulled back, he said, “Hey, does this make you a Master?”

Kanan blinked. “I guess,” he said; the thought had clearly never crossed his mind.  He slung an arm around Ezra’s shoulders and said warmly, “Come on, let’s get some food in you before we have to decide what to do about Thrawn and the Yuuzhan Vong.”

“Leave them to each other,” Ezra grumbled, but he didn’t mean it; he was more than half-afraid that Thrawn had somehow already talked himself into an alliance with the Vong. His impression was that the Vong didn’t believe in alliance, only domination, but it wasn’t as though he had all that much to base that on.  The only time he had ever actually interacted with the Vong they had been trying to kill each other; he had seen enough of what they left behind to dislike the wreckage, though.

He leaned against Kanan’s shoulder, drawing strength from him.  It almost felt as though no time had passed at all; they could have been back on Lothal or Garel or Atollon, the future still open and brimming with possibility.  As nice as the illusion was, though, Ezra knew it was just that.  For a Jedi, six years was nothing; a heartbeat; a breath; an eye blink.  He and Kanan had walked back into what they had been without much more than a moment’s thought; the distance wasn’t there, but it didn’t meant that the time hadn’t passed.

He started to pull away, then glanced down, distracted, and said, “That’s not your lightsaber.  I mean – that’s not your old lightsaber?”

Kanan released it to touch two fingers to the top of the hilt, then said, “That’s part of the long story that’s classified.”

Ezra felt his shoulders slump. “Because I’ve been with the Empire for six years.”

“No, because it’s top secret and involves another universe.”

Ezra blinked at him. “Um – wait, you mean Sabine was serious about that?”

Kanan arched an eyebrow, bemused. “Hera or I will give you the highlights later.  Come on.”

Ezra followed him out into the hallway. It looked unchanged from how he remembered it last, just slightly battered, with the scent of fresh paint and hot metal heavy in the air.  He said, “Is Sabine painting her armor again?”

“If you’d woken up a little earlier you’d have heard her banging away at the portable forge in the engine room,” Kanan said. “I think she’s personally offended about it.”

Ezra bit his lip. “Do you know anything else that can cut through beskar?  A lightsaber can’t.”

“Not off the top of my head,” Kanan said thoughtfully, rubbing a thumb over the edge of his left vambrace.

Ezra glanced at it, wondering if his vambraces were beskar and if so, how he had managed that; he had gotten the impression from Sabine that it was the worst kind of sacrilege for anyone other than a Mandalorian to wear beskar armor.

He still felt tired, sleep alone not being enough to erase the previous day’s exertions or do anything except make his aches and bruises settle more firmly into his abused muscles. Ezra rubbed a hand over the back of his neck and winced as the motion pulled at his bad shoulder.

As he had half been expecting, everyone else was in the common room; Hera and Zeb looking at a hologram of the Yuuzhan Vong encampment and Sabine sitting on the floor surrounded by paint jars and pieces of armor, Chopper peering over her shoulder.  They all looked up as the door slid open.

Ezra froze, self-conscious. Looking at them, he could tell time had passed in a way that was less obvious with Kanan; all three of them carried the passage of years that Kanan lacked.  In the previous night’s bad light, he hadn’t noticed it, but the harsh overhead lights picked out the scars dimpling the fur on Zeb’s left arm, the laugh-lines at the corners of Hera’s eyes, the sharpness of Sabine’s cheekbones. It dulled the fiery reds and oranges of her hair, pulled back for the moment as she worked; she already had flecks of paint on her chin and the front of her tank top.

“Hey,” he said awkwardly.

Hera got up as Zeb shut off the holotable and came over to hug him.  She was a tall woman, and Ezra was relieved to find that he wasn’t taller than her now.  She was also reassuringly sturdy as he returned the embrace, with a spray of small scars along the line of her left cheekbone and at the corner of her eye, as if the visor of her flight helmet had shattered and cut her.

“How are you feeling?” she asked him, stepping back but keeping one hand on his shoulder.

“Like I got stepped on by an AT-AT,” Ezra told her.  His stomach rumbled and he flushed, but all she did was smile. “How long was I asleep?”

“It’s about dinner time anyway,” Kanan said from behind him.

Ezra stepped out of the doorway so that Kanan could move past him into the common room, pausing to kiss Hera briefly before he crossed to the galley beyond.  He stepped around the tarp Sabine had spread out to protect the floor from her paints; Ezra resisted the urge to follow him just so that he wouldn’t be out of his sight for more than a few moments.

Hera released him and moved back so that Zeb could lift Ezra off his feet in an embrace that took the breath out of him. “Took you long enough,” he said after he had set Ezra back down and made an attempt to ruffle his hair, which didn’t work as well now as it had a decade earlier.

“It’s not my fault!” Ezra protested before he remembered that it absolutely was his fault. “Okay, I mean – what, did you want me to bring the Chimaera back?  Because Thrawn did, and he thought I could do it, too.”

Zeb scowled, presumably confronted with whatever the Seventh Fleet’s return would have done to the war at any point in the past six years, and clapped Ezra on the back again, making him stagger.

Sabine got up, wiping her hands down the sides of her pants; they didn’t leave a mark, so the paint on her palms must already be dry.  Ezra eyed her warily, then did a double-take and said, “Wait, did you already change your hair since last night?”

She shrugged, unrepentant. “I was doing my armor anyway, so I thought I might as well.”  She punched him lightly in the shoulder and said, “Besides, you’re one to talk.”

“My hair’s fine!” Ezra yelped indignantly.  Then he grabbed her and pulled her into a hug, bemused by the unexpected novelty of not having her armor dig into him. “And that’s my bad shoulder,” he added, releasing her.

Sabine looked startled. “Since when do you have a bad shoulder?”

“Since I got shot in it!”

“When did you get shot?” Kanan demanded from the door to the galley.

“Several times,” Ezra said; he vaguely remembered telling them about the time he’d been shot in the head – he’d managed to knock the blaster off-center, which was the reason he hadn’t had his brains blown out across the Chimaera’s starboard hangar deck.  Aside from that particular occasion, most of his blaster wounds came from a combination of being shot by enemies and being shot by stormtroopers who didn’t particularly care if they hit him or what they were supposedly aiming at. He had found out the hard way that some stormtroopers actually could aim.

He rubbed a hand over the old injury and admitted, “This time was on the Chimaera six years ago, over Lothal.  I wasn’t exactly at the top of the list to see a medical droid or a doctor afterwards.”

He looked away so that he didn’t have to see the distress or pity on their faces, though he could still feel it reverberate in the Force.  Kanan broke the sudden silence in the room by saying, “Dinner’s ready.”

Ezra excused himself to go to the refresher, which still bore the obvious detritus of Sabine’s hair-dyeing endeavors.  He stared down at the residue of dye swirling down the drain as he washed his hands, uncomfortably aware of how much it looked like blood.  He’d washed blood off his hands before, quite literally; he knew that the dye remnants were lighter and brighter, more orange.  It still made his spine crawl.

He forced himself to look up at the mirror instead, which didn’t make him feel any better.  Being back on the Ghost made him expect to see the boy who had last been here six years ago, not the man with the lines at the corners of his eyes or the scars where a razor bug had nearly cut his throat.  He had two days’ worth of stubble on his jaw, too, patchy on his scarred cheeks and chin.  Ezra met his own eyes, then looked down at the sink again.  Most of the dye had washed away by now, at least.

He dried his hands and went to join the others in the galley, struck suddenly by the savory scent of freshly cooked food.  “That’s definitely not grayweave,” he announced, leaning his shoulder against the doorframe.

Kanan turned a bemused eye on him, his eyebrows quirking. “As the person who made it, no, it’s definitely not grayweave.”

“You’ve been eating grayweave?” Sabine demanded, appalled.

Grayweave was a single-cell-organism-based food that could be manufactured cheaply off any kind of organic matter; the Chimaera had had a dozen grayweave reactors onboard in case of emergencies. As far as Ezra was concerned, “food” was pushing the description, but it was better than starving.  Marginally.

“Star destroyers only carry supplies for three years,” he explained, pushing off the door and coming over to sit down at the table.  “They did some hunting and trading whenever we were near a planet that could support life, but that’s not that easy when you’re talking about forty thousand people. Or even twenty thousand.”

“Mmm,” Kanan said neutrally, setting the last bowl on the table and sliding into a seat next to Hera. “I’ve eaten grayweave.  I think cannibalism’s preferable.”

Hera elbowed him and made a moue of disgust. “Let’s not talk about cannibalism at the table, shall we?” she said, half-standing to ladle fragrant red broth from the steaming pot at the center of the table into her bowl of noodles, then Kanan’s.  She handed the ladle off to Sabine, sitting on her other side, and started adding toppings from the array of small plates that filled the remainder of the table as Kanan did the same.

Ezra would happily have eaten the noodles with or without the broth and toppings, but he waited until the ladle came around to him anyway, then added some of every topping. There was thinly sliced meat that cooked in the hot broth, several kinds of sprouts, pickled vegetables, some spiced dried seaweed, and something that he vaguely recognized as a kind of dried sea urchin that started to disintegrate as soon as it touched the liquid. Other bits of reconstituted vegetables floated in the broth, whose spicy, savory steam filled the air.

He took the cup of tea that Zeb poured for him, took a few sips, and tried not to sigh in sheer relief before he found a place for it on the crowded table.  It had been a long time since he had tasted anything with actual flavor.

Even though he had eaten Kanan’s cooking before, he still wasn’t expecting how spicy the broth was. He managed to keep from coughing and had to drink the rest of his tea before going back to the broth and noodles, managing the eating sticks with more difficulty than the spoon with his deep bowl.  The noodles cut the heat of the broth, as did some of the toppings; after a few minutes Ezra got back most of his facility with the eating sticks and settled down to the food.  After the long day and night they had all had, all five of them ate in near silence except for occasional requests to pass the teapot or for some of the plates of toppings.  Kanan got up once to get more noodles for those who wanted them, which was nearly everyone; they’d all had a long day.

Afterwards, once the dishes were cleared away for someone to scrub out later, they returned to the common room with cups of tea or fruit juice.  Ezra took the juice because he found tea fine with meals like the one they had just had, but hadn’t had anything that even vaguely resembled a fruit or vegetable in years.

Hera leaned back into the curve of Kanan’s arm, holding her teacup between her hands, and said, “We need to decide what to do about the Imperials.”

“Leave them here and go home,” Sabine said promptly.  When they all looked at her, she shrugged and said, “What?  This is a little bigger than we’re really equipped to deal with – we’re out here to do reconnaissance, we’ve done it, let’s pass it back to New Republic Intelligence to figure out the rest of it.”

“We are New Republic Intelligence,” Hera reminded her. “And I can’t exactly tell General Cracken or the Provisional Council that we didn’t even bother to talk to Captain Pellaeon or ascertain that Yuuzhan Vong really do have hostile intent.”

“They felt pretty hostile to me,” Zeb grumbled, at the same time Ezra said, “Oh, trust me, they have hostile intent.”

Hera flicked a glance at Kanan, who said, “I don’t like what they do to the Force.  And I’m not happy with the idea of leaving the Imperials here to deal with them, or going without knowing more.”

“Ezra?” Hera said, turning towards him. “You know both better than any of us.”

Ezra scratched at his hairline, trying not to be bemused at the novelty of being asked for his opinion. “What do you want Thrawn for anyway?”

“To try him for crimes against civilization in front of a New Republic tribunal,” Hera said promptly.

“Has that ever actually worked?” Sabine asked.

“Do you pay any attention to the news back on Lothal?” Zeb demanded.

Sabine shrugged. “Why do you think I asked?  Can you name a single Imperial officer ranked higher than commander who’s actually gone to trial instead of being disappeared into one of the Republic’s black box prisons without a trial?  Or just getting a slap on the wrist and then released back into the wild?”

Zeb opened his mouth, hesitated, and then closed it again.

“Ezra?” Hera repeated.

He turned the cup of fruit juice in his hands, then admitted, “I’m a little worried that Thrawn will talk to the Vong into some kind of alliance.  I don’t know if the Vong would go for one, but –”  He shrugged helplessly.  “He can be pretty persuasive.  Not that persuasive,” he added in case anyone got the wrong idea about him, “but to people who don’t know him.”

He took a sip of the juice before he went on – he thought it was redberry, sweet but with a rich, almost bitter undertone to it.  Redberry was uncommon on Lothal, so he had only had it a few times before.  “For what it’s worth, I think he’d have another mutiny on his hands if he tried to sell it to the Imps, but if he’s just trying to get an advantage out of the Vong –”  He shrugged again.

“I agree with Ezra,” Kanan said. “I think we’ll have to go to the Imps.”  As Hera sighed, clearly resigned, he added, “Just think how much fun you’ll have telling Captain Pellaeon and all the rest of them about the Empire collapsing.”

Hera huffed out a laugh and sipped her tea.  “There is that.  We’ll comm them in the morning.”

Ezra nodded reluctantly. Part of him wanted to leave Pellaeon and the rest of them here – at least until someone else could sort it out, he supposed, since that was apparently an option – but that was the selfish part of him, not the Jedi part.  He sat and drank the rest of his fruit juice in silence as the conversation turned to other things, letting himself relax into his awareness of them all around him, of Kanan’s steady presence in the Force.  When there was a brief lull in the conversation, he said, “How is Kanan here?”

Hera flicked a glance at Kanan, who turned his head in response to her attention and said, “I thought I’d leave it to you, since I was more or less an accidental byproduct of your op.”

“What kind of op were you on?” Ezra demanded. “I know Kanan said it was classified, but –”

Sabine laughed. “Oh, it was weirder than that.”

Hera sighed and drained her cup before setting it down on the table.  She leaned her head briefly against Kanan’s shoulder for a moment, then straightened up and said, “All right.  I need to go back a little before the op and explain about Warlord Zsinj first –”

*

Afterwards, a little overwhelmed, Ezra went to go sit on the Ghost’s ramp and look at the jungle.  No one onboard being stupid, it hadn’t been left down the way it might have been on Lothal or some other safe harbor, but as long as he was actually there he didn’t think it would be a problem.  He wanted to enjoy the novelty of fresh air on his face and listen to the living sounds of the jungle – nowhere near quiet, just like the grasslands back home had never been truly quiet.  He pulled his knees up to his chest and looked out at the darkened woods, hearing some kind of avian crying in the distance and the scurry of night-dwelling creatures as they moved from tree to tree.  Somewhere about a kilometer off, a predator howled to the three moons above and was answered by a chorus of its kind, all of them singing for the sheer joy of it.

He sat there for more than an hour, drinking in the living Force of the planet around him and just thinking.  There was a lot to think about, and as tired as he was he let most of it wash over him, acknowledging each thought and concern briefly before letting it flow away. Some of them he would come back to eventually; others had just needed that one instant of acknowledgment.  It wasn’t meditation, but it wasn’t entirely not, either.

Zeb and Hera both came down to check on him, though neither spoke to him.  Kanan didn’t, but Ezra could feel him in the ship up above and knew that Kanan could sense his presence just as well – better, probably. He was listening to the predators howling to each other, letting his mind roll out to touch them lightly, when he heard Sabine’s step behind him.  She sat down beside him and didn’t say anything, her gaze fixed on the jungle.

Ezra listened to the predators a little longer, identifying each individual by sound and trying to match it to its presence in the Force.  They weren’t like Loth-wolves; the individuals didn’t read as strongly to him, especially not from this distance.  He thought that there were six of them, a family group.

Sabine waited for him to draw himself back into his own skin, flexing his fingers against his thighs – he had shifted into a more comfortable tailor’s seat at some point. Then she said, “You know, we weren’t a crew again until Kanan came back.”

Ezra glanced at her. She had her blasters holstered on her hips, but wasn’t wearing her armor, which was probably still drying after its recent paint job; its absence made her look uncomfortably vulnerable. “What do you mean?”

Sabine didn’t look at him, her attention still focused on the trees. “After Lothal – we were still friends, still family, but it was like we just…fell apart.  Hera and Chopper and Zeb went off to the Rebel Alliance, I stayed on Lothal – Hera was with Starfighter Command, mostly, though I know she had a naval command at one point.  Zeb’s got a commission in Special Forces.  Rex and Kallus are still with the Alliance too, but it’s all different divisions.  The Alliance – the New Republic now – isn’t anything like what it was six years ago.”

“Is it better?”

She snorted. “Now there’s a government, if you can call it that.”

Ezra didn’t know much about the government except that the Empire’s had been a disaster and Lothal’s was a joke, so he left that for someone else to explain to him in detail another time.  Probably Zeb, who was a politics junkie even if he pretended he couldn’t care less, or at least he had been six years ago.  That might have changed since. “Why did you stay on Lothal?” he asked instead. “Why didn’t you go to the Alliance with Hera and Zeb or back to Mandalore with your family?”

“Oh, I can’t go back to Mandalore.”  Sabine’s tone was light, but Ezra could sense a shadow to the words.

He turned to look at her. “Why not?”

She looked down, picking at a place on her knee where the fabric had pilled under the constant friction of her armor. “Didn’t I tell you when I went to Yavin with the rest of you back then?”

Ezra shook his head. “I don’t think so.  You just came with us.  It didn’t seem polite to ask why.”

Sabine grimaced. “It has to do with the Darksaber.”  She picked at her pants again, then sighed and pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around her calves. “If I stayed on Mandalore – or went back to Mandalorian space – I’d be a threat to Bo-Katan, because I carried the Darksaber and used it in combat.”

“But you gave it up.”

She shook her head. “Doesn’t matter.  As long as I’m alive, I’m a potential rival to her.  There are a lot of people in Mandalorian space who’d prefer me to her – or, well, they’d prefer anyone to her, I’m just convenient because I actually have a claim to the Darksaber.  And that was before everything else happened.”

Ezra frowned. “Everything else like – what?”

“Mandalore isn’t really something the Empire can leave alone for long,” Sabine said after a pause. “That’s why they had to have a loyalist Mandalorian viceroy, not a moff, not some outsider.  The Saxons kept the clans at each other’s throats for years, not to mention all the weird little splinter cults that have been around for a thousand years – three thousand in some cases.  Even when there was still a duke or duchess of Mandalore, back during the Republic, it was always very…tense.  And that’s putting aside the fact that the last duchess was a radical.  Mandalorian politics is – was – a lot of trying to keep quarrels from turning into blood feuds and blood feuds from turning into civil wars.  But if the clans ever have an external enemy, then all of that gets put aside.  It takes a lot to get the clans there; it doesn’t happen much more than once a millennium.  Bo-Katan was starting to do that.  So the Empire tried to wipe out the clans.  And Mandalore.”

“Your family?” Ezra said cautiously.

“They’re fine,” Sabine said. “Krownest got hit, but not as bad as Mandalore itself, and it’s not as though my family has never had to rebuild before.  All of Mandalorian space is a mess from what I’ve heard.  I’d go back, but – that would be seen as a challenge, no matter what I meant by it.  So I haven’t gone back.”  She shrugged. “Tristan came and visited me on Lothal once.”

“Why did you stay on Lothal?”

She shrugged again. “I didn’t want to join the Alliance and Ryder needed the help.  He’s governor again, by the way.”

Ezra nodded absently.

“I thought one of us should be on Lothal,” Sabine said eventually. “We expected some Imperial retaliation, but they were distracted by Mandalore, and then what happened on Scarif, then the Death Star and Yavin – they left Lothal alone, mostly.”

“That’s good,” Ezra said, feeling some of his unease unknot in his chest.

Sabine stretched her legs out again and leaned back, bracing her hands on the ramp.  Somewhere in the jungle, a night-avian hooted and some tree-dwellers set up a chorus of croaking sounds.

“What I was trying to say,” Sabine said eventually, “is that this isn’t easy for us either.  I know it probably feels like nothing changed or that we all went on without you exactly the same as we had been, but – everything changed. And we weren’t with each other anymore.  I mean, Hera’s a general, and all she does – all she used to do – was order people around.  Zeb was off with the Pathfinders and they’re the ones who do all the secret missions for the Alliance – the New Republic – you know, cutting throats and blowing stuff up and giving locals money so they can buy vibroknives and bombs to cut throats and blow stuff up.  And I was on my own, mostly.  And Kanan – Kanan just didn’t have any of the last six years, because he’s still – he’s exactly the same as he was back then, because he is the him he was back then. But none of us are.  Even Chopper’s not.”  She slanted a glance at him.  “No one expects you to be, either.”

Ezra looked down at his lap, running his fingers along the shaft of his lightsaber hilt.  He felt his kyber crystal warm to him, the faint hum in his mind turning into something close to a purr. “I don’t know who I am anymore.”

“So you’ve got time to figure it out now,” Sabine offered.

“Yeah, except for the extra-galactic aliens who want to kill us all,” Ezra said harshly.

She arched an eyebrow. “Don’t let Hera or Zeb hear you say ‘aliens’.”

He’d forgotten that it was considered a slur amongst a large portion of the galaxy.  “Sorry.  I forgot.”

“Mmm.”

Ezra sighed. “What’s it been like?  Being back with them, I mean.”

“Hard. Sometimes.  Easy.  Sometimes.  Back at the beginning, none of us knew how to be around each other anymore, except Kanan, and we weren’t reacting the way he expected.   It was a mess the first month, after we left Ryloth – Hera and Kanan had to take Jacen to stay with Cham Syndulla, and then they had the wedding, and we had to leave early because General Cracken didn’t want the Provisional Council to find out until after we’d actually gone –”

“Wait, what wedding?” Ezra said, sitting bolt upright. “Who got married?”

Sabine grinned, bemused. “Kanan didn’t tell you?  He and Hera got married about three days after they got back.”

Ezra rubbed a hand over his face, not sure why he was surprised.  It wasn’t as though Kanan and Hera’s relationship hadn’t been an open secret, but he hadn’t thought – well, Kanan getting killed had obviously changed things.

“I’m glad you’re all here,” he said instead of commenting on that.  He glanced up as a shadow passed over the moons above, expecting a coralskipper or one of the Vong cruiser-analogs, and was relieved to find it was just a cloud.

He pushed himself to his feet, wincing as one of his knees popped and his bad shoulder twinged.  He offered a hand to Sabine, who looked at it in bemusement and then let him pull her upright.

“Come on,” Ezra said. “Time to let the Imperials know they’re going to have company.”

He closed up the ramp behind him as they went back into the Ghost, then climbed up the ladder to the cockpit.  Hera and Kanan were both there, along with Chopper and a hologram of the Vong encampment.  They both looked up as Ezra and Sabine emerged from the hatch.

“What is it?” Kanan asked as Chopper shut the hologram off.

Ezra had never been able to figure out if Kanan had somehow been able to sense what a hologram was showing in the Force – certainly he couldn’t do it himself, and he had tried. He shoved the thought aside to ask about later and said, “I thought now might be a good time to call Chimaera Camp.”

Hera glanced at the chrono and arched her eyebrows. “I thought we were going to wait until morning.”

Ezra shrugged. “I thought I’d ruin Captain Pellaeon’s night.”  As far as he was concerned, Pellaeon had it coming.

Kanan snorted softly. Hera flicked a glance at him, then sat back in her chair so that Ezra could approach the comm board.

He plugged in the bridge frequency for the Scylla and only had to wait a few moment before a comms officer answered.  The transmission was audio-only, no visual; the increased data transfer of a hologram made it more likely for the Vong to pick up on.

“This is Bridger,” Ezra said. “Put me through to Captain Pellaeon.”

The officer snorted. “Do you have any idea what the hour is?  The captain –”

“Will want to hear what I have to say,” Ezra said flatly. “Come on, it’s not that late.  You and I know he’s not asleep.”

There was a pause, then the officer grunted agreement.  There was a moment of static as he transferred the call, then Pellaeon’s crisp voice said, “Bridger, I assume this is important.”

Ezra felt a muscle in his jaw twitch.  He looked around at the cockpit, noting that Zeb had come into lean on the doorframe, his gaze fixed on Ezra.  They were all here, back in the same place, and when they were together they could do anything. “Yeah,” he said to the comm. “It’s important.”

[fiddlepickdouglas]

Viva Las Vegas, Pt. 13 - Sketch/Ache

Summary: Sunset Curve Alive AU, Willex, so close yet so far, 3k

@trevor-wilson-covington is the bestie who makes these lovely edits, we stan supportive friends

WARNINGS: death mention

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12

October already? Looking at the work schedule posted on the wall, Willie ran a hand through his hair. The time really was just passing him by, huh? Another day over, he grabbed his skateboard and strapped on his helmet.

“Hey, Willie?” His manager, Kyle, called after him before he got through the back door.

“Yeah, man?” Willie turned to answer him.

“This Saturday we need some extra hands while we’ve got a group performing. Could you be there?”

“Totally, man,” he said, smiling with assurance before heading out into the street. Los Angeles was fresher than Vegas, at least for him. He loved the breeze from the ocean that swept in every evening and being near the water in general. There was so much more to do, as well, and he didn’t think he’d ever exhaust that list. Just the number of places to skate was constantly growing, without mentioning the rest. Of course, he had been hoping to do some of them with Alex by now, but that was easier said than done. Sunset Curve didn’t seem to be doing too many shows at the moment, and that was all he really had to track him with.

Stopping at an antiquated apartment building, he headed down a stairway into the basement and burst through the door.

“Guess who’s home!” he cried. Sheldon came pattering over with his ever-cheerful prrrp and rubbed against his leg. Kneeling to pet him, Willie chuckled. “Aww, I’m happy to see you, too.”

He immediately went over to the cat’s bowl and poured some food in, listening to Sheldon purr loudly as he ate his dinner. Willie grabbed some food for himself to snack on as he sat at his desk and looked at the unfinished drawing that had been left there early that morning. He’d begun covering his walls in sketches again, and this time he didn’t have to be afraid of everything being torn away. In fact, Willie couldn’t even believe he had convinced himself that his life was fine when staying with Caleb.

Things had changed entirely. Since his brief adventure out in the desert, Willie was fully independent. He owed most of it to Bessie, still, and he thought of that woman every day. She hadn’t left him any way to contact her, otherwise he’d want to send her a thank you card at least once a week. It even overshadowed the fact that he’d actually ridden in a plane with Harrison Ford.

Willie remembered how incredibly short the flight had been in comparison to the rest of his journey. Bessie had donated an old cat carrier that they strapped into the cabin for Sheldon while Willie joined Harrison in the cockpit. It was nothing like watching the man fly the Millenium Falcon, except that it felt like they had gone into lightspeed and landed not too long after taking off. 

“You should be proud,” Harrison had told him. “You didn’t get sick.”

It had taken Willie until after they landed at the Santa Monica Airport to realize that he’d hardly spoken a word because he kept looking at him in pure shock at the reality of the man. His embarrassment must have appeared obvious, because Harrison Ford leaned down to look him in the eye.

“I’ve seen it a million times, don’t worry about it.” There was something sage about the resting expression on his face.

Chuckling in a flustered manner, Willie tried to think of the best way to thank him.

“Well, that was...that was really amazing, Mr., um...Mr. Ford. Thank you.”

The old actor smirked a little. Willie had seen a handful of actors come through the diner in Vegas before (at least, he’d been told they were famous, since he didn’t recognize most of them), and none of them were nearly as friendly.

“Willie, right?” Harrison had asked. It was enough to get him starstruck all over again, but he managed to nod. “Well, since I’ll never see you again, I’ll give you some advice.”

Willie listened intently.

“If you believe something is worth it, don’t quit. From what I already know about you, it doesn’t look like you do, so I have an extra piece of advice for you: planning and preparation is everything.”

Thinking back to when Bessie had scolded him about not riding the bus, Willie cowered inwardly. He couldn’t imagine how stupid he had sounded then.

“Do you know where you’re headed, kid? I can call a cab to take you anywhere you need.”

“How come you’re so nice?” Willie blurted. He hadn’t meant to.

Harrison Ford bowed his head, still smirking, and looked back up.

“I was twice your age before I really got anywhere. Now I’m just an old man who still does the job. Doesn’t mean I’m always nice, but sometimes….” He shrugged and gave him a wink.

Nodding, Willie had thanked him again. Harrison Ford held out a hand, which he shook with great enthusiasm before accepting the offer for the cab and saying goodbye. When he’d asked to go to the Hollywood Walk of Fame, the cab driver had looked at him in confusion.

“You do?” the guy asked. Seeing the definitive nod from Willie in the back seat, he just looked resigned. “Okay.”

Shortly after being dropped off, Willie had realized why the cab driver had responded that way. Standing before Grauman’s Chinese Theater, the street was just another place covered in gum, surrounded by people dressed as other celebrities. He saw other people taking pictures with them, and saw that the ones all dressed up were being paid. Some young woman dressed as Marilyn Monroe was doing her best to catch his interest with a flirty pose and a wink. Awkwardly smiling, Willie turned away and went to explore that area of the city. It was a good thing he hadn’t owned a camera then.

Now, he had decided to get a cheap one, just to capture anything he found interesting when he saw it. He’d accumulated a handful of things in the past few months: the basement apartment, a mattress, his writing desk and chair, and his job at the record-store-slash-cafe, among other things. The fridge had already been in the room, which was a nice perk. It was cool enough that the owner of the building had been willing to rent to him even though he was still underage. Working at the record store was much better than both the diner and the hotel, although his hopes of having Alex or his friends chance to stop in were dwindling some.

For now, it was much like before he’d left Vegas, only without Caleb’s dark shadow constantly looming over him and a few more memories restored. And, of course, he could keep Sheldon with him. It was strange how meeting Alex and being at the Pearl already felt like a dream. Willie often had the thought that maybe he should move on and start planning out whatever he wanted now. Maybe Alex had just been the catalyst to get him out of a bad position and help him move forward.

Staring down presently at the drawing on his desk, Willie sighed. Alex’s smiling face (what he could remember of it) beamed up from the page. Sure, he could tell himself to be over it, but was he really? Sheldon began running about the apartment like he was being chased by an invisible foe, creating a distraction from Willie’s thoughts. After a while, he went to bed and lay awake replaying in his mind the last few moments he’d actually seen Alex. It was still so vivid. If it was no longer important, why could he recall it so well?

He watched as Alex stood up and held out a hand toward him. Taking it, he was impressed by the strength with which he was lifted off the surface of the observation deck. His mind returned to earlier that day when the situation had been reversed, and he wondered if Alex had felt the same exhilaration from that moment of closeness. He already missed the feeling of Alex’s fingers through his hair. Gaining his balance, he let go of Alex’s hand and a nervous giggle escaped as a bout of giddiness came over him. 

“You alright there?” Alex teased, grinning.

Shaking his head, almost to clear it like an Etch-A-Sketch, Willie grinned back.

“I’m having a good time,” he told him.

The warm smile that spread across Alex’s face and the way his eyes lit up deserved to be captured forever. Willie was sure he could fill a thousand pages of sketches, even if they were all of that one expression.

“Me, too,” Alex said, eyes wandering all over Willie’s face.

Before Willie could blush too hard, he picked up his skateboard.

“I know some shortcuts that’ll get us back to the hotel pretty quickly,” he started, pressing the button for the elevator. He didn’t want to go back so fast, but he had to remember his early work day in the morning. Caleb always had some sort of laundry list on the days he didn’t immediately go in to work at the diner.

“You’ve been a good tour guide so far,” Alex said as they stepped into the elevator.

Casting a wistful look back at the splendid view of Las Vegas, Willie watched the doors shut. Once they got out to the street again, Willie looked up at the hat sitting on Alex’s head. Impulsively, he lifted it up and put it on backwards, grinning at Alex.

“How does it look?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

Alex’s jaw hung open for a moment, his nervous smile betraying him.

“It looks good,” he said in a breathless manner. It was such a cute expression, Willie wished he could make it happen again.

Alex was wishing right then that he could keep a picture of Willie with the hat on. He usually didn’t let people just steal it off his head, but when the result was that handsome he wasn’t going to complain. He’d wait until they had reached the hotel to ask for it back.

“So,” Willie started saying. “Back to L.A. in the morning, huh?”

Ah yes, the feeling of being crushed by reality. Alex bowed his head. He wasn’t excited to address it.

“Uh, yeah,” he sighed. “You know, when I got here I was hoping to just get the gig over with and leave, but that...I kind of forgot about that.”

He glanced up at Willie, not sure how much he should go into detail about why he changed his tune.

“But then you met Sheldon and he was the coolest cat ever, right?” Willie teased.

A chuckle of genuine entertainment escaped his throat. Did Willie know how charming he was? Alex wished he knew how to tell him.

“Yep, it was definitely the cat,” he responded. “Although the owner isn’t too bad, either.”

He got a casual shrug in return.

“Well, I know I’m busy, but I could call you,” Willie offered.

Fear pinched everything in Alex’s chest. It almost made him stop in his tracks.

“God, I - ” he started awkwardly, forcing his body to keep moving. “I can’t. I seriously wish I could, but that’s just...not possible.”

He already hated the words the moment they’d been spoken. His parents suspected enough things about him and his activity with the guys in his band, but they would make his reality pure hell if they ever picked up the phone from a guy they’d never met who had shown as much interest in him as Willie. While he felt fine being open just about anywhere else, at home was where he remained most guarded.

Willie was looking at him with slight disappointment.

“That’s too bad, I guess,” he said. “At least I know I won’t be going anywhere for a while, so you know where to find me.”

It was the only consolation they could afford. Alex wanted to make plans right then and there.

“And what would we do if I did find you?” he asked, knowing he was prodding for signs that he wasn’t the only one with hopes. He tried to relax his stride to appear more casual.

“Lots of possibilities,” Willie told him. “I haven’t shown you my favorite museum, or seen you skate - ”

“Just putting it out there,” Alex interrupted, raising a hand. “I cannot skate.”

Willie blew a raspberry. “Maybe not now, man, but you will by the time I’m finished with you.”

The way he wiggled his eyebrows made Alex think of something much different than riding a skateboard. He cleared his throat nervously as he looked up at the street they were on. The hotel was already a block away.

“Whoa, how’d we get here so fast?” he wondered.

“I know my shortcuts,” Willie said proudly.

Unfortunately, he did. Alex wanted more time to figure out a way to see Willie in the future. There had to be a possibility in the future. His long legs could only go so slowly, however, and soon they were stopped outside the hotel doors.

“Are you gonna make it home okay?” Alex asked. “Wherever that is?”

“I’ll be fine,” Willie shrugged plainly. “It’s not too far.”

For a minute, they stood in awkward silence. Alex could feel his entire body burning to make some gesture that left Willie with the right impression. What would be too forward? A hug? A kiss on the cheek? He’d already checked off holding him and running his hand through Willie’s hair, so he wasn’t going to simply send him off with a hand wave or something.

“Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow before you guys go?” Willie said, smirking optimistically.

“Yeah, maybe,” Alex said, trying to return a smile with the same optimism.

“Oh,” Willie sputtered. He took off the hat and tried to place it back onto Alex’s head properly. It didn’t work, but Alex simply adjusted it into its comfortable backward position. His fingers twitched under the temptation to touch Willie’s hair again.

“One of these days…” he muttered.

“Hm?” Willie perked up curiously.

Oh, no, he’d said it out loud. Damn. There was no way he couldn’t follow up.

“Uh...one of these days I’ll be around here again,” he said, nodding to reassure himself. “I’ll come looking for you.”

Willie could only look up at him and smile.

“I…” Alex began to scratch the back of his neck, but forced his hand down into his pocket. It had to be said. “I definitely like you.”

He watched Willie’s face morph from surprise into a smile, and finally his trademark eyebrow raise.

“So do I,” Willie said, biting his lip.

They both giggled, now that their feelings were out there in the open. It only made Alex ache more to stay. Willie placed a hand on his shoulder.

“You take care, Alex,” he told him.

He nodded. “And you be safe, Willie.”

He got one more glance into those gorgeous brown eyes, longing to toss in a line and anchor himself in them. The dim lights from the street played off of the natural glimmer that was always present.

Feeling Willie’s hand slide off his shoulder and down his arm, Alex could’ve sworn there was a tiny squeeze he received at the end of his fingers before Willie let go and got onto his skateboard. He watched him leave until eventually he was staring out into the darkness all alone. Reluctantly, he headed back up to the hotel room.

Alex was lying awake in his bed, silent tears falling down his cheeks at the bitter memory. His last words to Willie had been powerless to protect him. What sort of sick and twisted universe would let that happen? He knew he had no control over those circumstances, but he still felt that if anyone died in a fire, it should be him. Willie had been too wonderful to deserve it.

Turning to his side, he still hated the sobs that wracked through his whole body months later. Most people would deem it pathetic to hurt this much over someone he’d barely known. It was strange, but it felt almost undeserved, like mourning as he did wasn’t allowed. What about the people that Willie had spent time with every day? How could Alex begin to fathom their pain? To them, his sorrow would appear as empty as if he were crying over Freddie Mercury. This hurt far more than when he’d cried over Freddie.

It didn’t help that he couldn’t tell his family. The guys had been okay at letting Alex have his space, but his parents kept making comments about his sudden upset over everything. They would only see death as something bittersweet, a “better place” to go for people who were doing the right things. Of course he was terrified of death - he wasn’t exactly considered worthy of anything good, by their standards. That only made the loss of Willie that much worse. He hadn’t bothered to explain himself to Abbey. He couldn’t put that emotional burden on her.

Before he could let his mind wander further into the dark, Alex tried to find something else for his brain to put on cycle. Oddly enough, it went back to singing for Julie’s mom at the hospital. The words immediately began to repeat in his mind: we all live in a yellow submarine…. It wasn’t a song that he truly loved, but it was catchy. It was the one Willie had suggested they do. Alex remembered how he’d imagined everyone in that room in their own world together, safe and free from worldly cares. Somewhere full of color and warmth and people could be happy as they were.

That’s all he truly wanted. Maybe he would have that with the band, and maybe he’d get away from his parents and finally be free from all of their pressure, and maybe one day he’d recover and find a guy like Willie again. He wasn’t sure what he really believed just yet, but there had to be something good worth holding onto. If it was just some stupid world where he and his friends lived in a yellow submarine, so be it.

[quickspinner]

Month of Miracles Day 9 - Tradition

Find the prompt list here!

I’m mixing up the prompts a bit here because I had a plan for ‘Moments of Wonder’ that can’t happen until a little bit further on in the Hallmark AU. I was just gonna do the next prompt while I got a little bit ahead on the Hallmark ones since they tend to be longer, but...this one wouldn’t leave me alone and I didn’t have enough time today to do both. Honestly, I might not be able to keep up the one a day through the next week, but whatever I miss, I’ll catch up on Christmas week where we have some planned time off. 

Hallmark Movie AU Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 (end) | Read Month of Miracles on AO3

Marinette understood why her mother thought this trip would do her good, but the truth was that she felt at loose ends rattling around in Gina’s old-fashioned but large house, all alone. At home, there was always somewhere to pitch in, something that needed doing. Gina kept her life pretty streamlined, and when she was home, she delighted in fixing up anything that might be out of sorts in her home. Gina was just too efficient, so other than keeping her plants alive, which really wasn’t that difficult since Gina kept mostly hardy breeds that could survive being left under the care of a neighbor for weeks at a time, there just wasn’t much for Marinette to do. 

Finally Marinette planted herself on the couch, set the TV to a channel covering the most recent fashion shows, and sat down to sketch. She’d have a lot of work to catch up on when she got home, so she might as well take advantage of some of this quiet time to get ahead. 

She sketched a few basic silhouettes to warm up and get the juices flowing, but after that...nothing came. Every time she started a line, she quickly rubbed about it again. Stop editing yourself, she scolded. Just get it out, and you can fix it later. 

It didn’t work. Everything she did felt wrong. Audrey’s complaints echoed in her mind. Too derivative, too pedestrian, where’s the art, Marinette? That’s why I hired you, and all you ever give me is this trash! Did I make a mistake bringing you on?

Did Audrey make a mistake? Marinette put down her sketchbook and pulled her knees up, wrapping her arms around them as she dropped her face against her legs, fighting down the tears that threatened to overwhelm her. She swallowed hard and tried to breathe. 

Okay. So she couldn’t draw right now. That was okay. She’d do...something else.

She got up, leaving her sketchbook on the couch and the television on, and went into the kitchen. She started pulling out ingredients without conscious thought, the spiral in her mind continuing until she actually stood in front of the mixer, measuring cups in hand. 

Marinette took a deep breath. She began measuring out ingredients, repeating the recipes in her head as she worked. This, at least, was something she could do. Nobody got all twisted up over cookies, after all. 

Well. Except Audrey are you trying to destroy my figure you’re FIRED Bourgeois. Marinette pushed that thought aside. Rose would appreciate cookies, she was sure. Gina’s neighbors would too. Maybe even Sally...would it be insulting to take some to Sally? She tried to remember if she’d seen cookies for sale in the café, and finally gave up. She’d just make some, and figure out who could eat them later. 

This was something she could do, and nobody could say she didn’t do it well, and that...that mattered to her right now. She could feel herself relaxing into the process, and she began to consider what she could make. Gina’s supplies weren’t as extensive as Tom’s, but there were still plenty of options to choose from…

Her first batch was in the oven, and she was making some simple Russian teacakes for a breather, when Gina’s old-fashioned doorbell rang. 

Frowning, Marinette grabbed a towel from the oven and went to the door, wiping at least one hand as clean as she could get it before she opened it.

If she’d expected anything, it was a package delivery, or maybe even a neighbor stopping by with some cookies of their own—this seemed like the kind of place where that stuff happened. 

On the doorstep stood a grey-haired woman with a bright smile, glasses that made her blue eyes look huge, feet well apart, and her hands solidly on her hips. Behind her stood Luka Couffaine, his lips pressed together in exasperation, propping up a large Christmas tree. He gave her a tight smile when her eyes flicked over him, but the woman in front of him had a presence that was impossible to ignore. 

“Um,” Marinette said, smiling uncertainly. “Can I help you?” 

The woman stuck out her hand. “Hello, lass. Marinette, isn’t it? Anarka Couffaine! Yer grandma be a friend of mine. When I heard you were keeping house for her while she’s away I thought we’d best be bringing over her tree!”

“Her tree?” Marinette asked, mystified. She glanced at Luka, and couldn’t help a smile when he mouthed I am so sorry at her over his...mother? Surely she must be his mother. Only a parent could put that look of embarrassed frustration on a grown man. 

“Aye, Gina always gets a tree from us,” Anarka was saying. “Thought she wouldn’t be needing one this year since she’s gone. Hated to think of her not having one when she gets back, but it makes sense, no one here to take care of it and all. But since you’re here, all’s well. You can decorate it and have it ready for Gina when she comes home. She’s still planning t’be back for Christmas Day, aye?”

“Uh, yes,” Marinette said, reaching up to tug a pigtail and remembering just in time that she’d pinned up her hair, and that her hands were still dusted with flour despite the wiping. “She and my parents and all were supposed to meet back here for Christmas Eve, so I guess—but I don’t know if—”

“Ah, that’s what I thought,” Anarka burst out cheerfully. “She’ll definitely be wanting her tree, then. No worries, lass, we know where everything is. We won’t be in your way but for a moment.” 

She didn’t push past Marinette, but it was clear she intended to move forward, and Marinette backed out of the doorway on instinct.

Luka gave her a kill me now look as he hoisted the tree and followed his mother. Marinette giggled in spite of herself, and closed the door behind them. 

True to her word, Anarka knew exactly where to find Gina’s Christmas tree things, and ordered her son around with a brusqueness that left no room for argument or debate. Marinette hovered, a bit at a loss for what to do. She wondered if she should go change into clean clothes, but Anarka said they weren’t staying long, and she still wasn’t done in the kitchen—

The oven timer chimed, and she automatically turned to tend to it. She hesitated in the door to the kitchen for just a moment, but Luka was half under the tree, getting it adjusted in the stand while Anarka barked orders. Neither was paying any attention to her, and even if she wasn’t cooking for anyone in particular, she couldn’t stand to let perfectly good cookies burn for no good reason. 

She’d just gotten everything settled when Anarka’s booming voice behind her made her jump. “I’ve got to run, lass, but Luka can finish getting things set up. I’ve already told him what to do and where to put everything. We left the box of decorations out for ye, so ye can get things all nice for when Gina comes home. I’m sure we’ll be seeing each other again, so, goodbye for now. Don’t forget to check the water in the tree every day!” 

Marinette didn’t even have time to answer before Anarka was seeing herself out. 

As soon as the door banged closed behind Anarka, Luka made a beeline for the kitchen. Hands against the doorframe, he leaned in. “Hey.”

Marinette turned to look at him from where she stood rolling some kind of round cookie in powdered sugar. “I swear I tried to talk her out of it,” he told her, ears burning. “I’d have had more success wrestling a bear.” 

Marinette laughed, blushing, and Luka couldn’t help his grin. She looked adorable, with her hair pinned up and her sleeves pushed up to her elbows, flour streaking the red and green, frilled apron she wore. “I can imagine,” she replied, placing the sugar-coated ball carefully on a pile of others already in a dish on the counter. “She seems like someone it’s hard to say no to.” 

Luka shrugged. “That’s my mom.” They looked at each other for a moment, Luka thinking about what a sweet picture she made and her thinking—probably that he was completely weird, standing here staring at her. “Anyway,” he said hastily, pushing himself back upright, “I’ll get this finished up and get out of your hair. I just wanted to say I’m really sorry and I had nothing to do with this...whatever this is.”

Marinette giggled. “It’s fine.” Her shoulders came down a little, and Luka gave her one more grin before he went back to setting up the tree. He was starting, he reflected ruefully, to have some dangerous if only thoughts. If only they’d met sooner, if only she weren’t leaving in a couple of weeks...

If only the people in his life weren’t so damn pushy, so that he wasn’t sure how much of the attraction he felt was sincere or mutual. If only he could be sure he wasn’t seeing things because Rose put the idea in his head. 

Luka wasn’t sure what had put his mother on the scent. It was, just barely, possible that her motives were exactly what she said they were. Gina did buy a tree from them every year, and since they were friends it was usually more of a visit than a delivery, and Anarka had more than once hauled Luka out to help set the thing up when he was home. 

Luka doubted it though. Either Rose had blabbed, or someone else had. Sally, maybe, who might have seen him holding her hand at the café, or maybe one of the townspeople who had seen them say goodbye outside afterwards, smiling and friendly. Marinette blushed so easily, and he did find her extremely pretty. it might have been easy for someone to get the wrong idea. 

The television was on, but Luka hadn’t paid any attention to it until Marinette’s name caught his ear. He looked up, and saw a good-looking blonde man on screen, waving to the crowd before he turned to help a lady out of the limo he’d just exited. There was a smaller picture of Marinette on the arm of the same handsome blond in the corner. 

Luka put it together with what Marinette had told him at the café, and pressed his lips together, irrationally angry at the man. Clearly he has a type, Luka thought sourly, looking at the new woman on his arm as the couple proceeded down the red carpet. Luka glanced back at the kitchen, and then walked over and turned the television off. Marinette didn’t seem like she was watching it, and she certainly didn’t need to see something like that by accident. 

He finished up, making sure to clean up after himself as best he could, stacking the boxes that had held Gina’s things neatly where his mother had found them. Conveniently there was a broom in the same closet, so he was able to sweep up the needles he’d inevitably tracked all over the house. 

He put the broom back, and went back to find Marinette. Whatever she was making smelled amazing. Luka paused in the kitchen doorway. Marinette was concentrating hard, piping icing onto cookies laid out in front of her. Even focused as she was, he couldn’t help but note that she looked more content than he’d ever seen her, smiling and at peace, humming softly to herself. She leaned back to study what she’d done, and the humming turned to singing. 

Luka took a quick step back and turned, putting his back to the wall next to the door, one hand going to clutch at his heart as it suddenly decided to gallop away. 

She was singing one of his songs. 

So she’s a fan, he scolded himself. I knew that. And why should he care? By the end, Luke Stone had been almost an entirely separate entity from himself. An illusion created to sell music, not a real person. 

Except Luke Stone still played Luka Couffaine’s music. And it was one thing to know Luke Stone had fans, to see them screaming in a crowd or throwing themselves at the security ropes to get to him, but...it was entirely different to hear sweet, sincere Marinette, thoughtlessly humming Luka’s songs just because she was happy and she enjoyed them. It was what he’d always wanted, wasn’t it? To know that people appreciated the music, and not just the image. It was no wonder his pulse was racing. 

Luka sighed and closed his eyes.  I’m in trouble, he admitted to himself. 

Fiction Master Post | Month of Miracles 

[masterjedilenawrites]

The Sniper and The Medic: Chapter 4

Starring: Crosshair, OC Joan Vo

Rating & Warnings: T/PG-13. Eventual fluff. Light angst. Who knows what else will pop up, but I’ll leave warnings when needed.

Taglist: @proadhog​ (Let me know if you’d like to be tagged for this fic too!)

AO3 Link (In case you like it better over there, it’s okay, no judgement)

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Chapter 4: Foot-In-Mouth

Crosshair entered the examination room with a plan. His brothers had learned a lot of things about this new doctor, and so would he. He had excellent eyesight; he could probably count the pores on her face if he wanted to. He was going to spend the entire visit analyzing her, finding as many details as he could. If she thought she could see through him, then he was going to see through her, too.

Joan was already in the room, her back turned, hands gathering her hair up into a ponytail. She had the black leggings on again, but this time with a blue tank top that showed off the slight muscles she had in her arms and shoulders. She turned upon hearing him enter and flashed a sweet smile.

He immediately forgot about the plan he had.

"Hey Crosshair," she said so casually, as if they'd been acquainted forever. "How are you?"

"Um. Fine." He awkwardly held out the pad of paper, not sure what to do next. No one around here asked him how he was. No one cared. No one was supposed to care.

She took the paper, her smile never faltering. "Ah, let's see here... Hm, still no favorite color? That's okay. Keep me guessing on that one."

Joan gave him a little wink while he just scowled. Why did she keep going on about colors? Was it really that important, or did she think it was a funny joke? She set the paper aside without commenting on anything else, which also made him upset. What was the point of him doing that stupid assignment if she wasn't going to acknowledge it? She hadn't even seemed to notice the angry black scribbles he'd made.

"You didn't happen to stretch this morning, did you?" she asked, motioning for him to join her in the middle of the room, which he just realized had been cleared of the examination bed. So much for his plan to notice things....

"I do every morning," he grumbled.

"Oh good." She seemed a little surprised and genuinely pleased. Though she would have already known that was part of his prescribed daily routine had she just read his chart already. "We're going to be doing a movement assessment today, to get some data recorded for Hunter."

"Hunter?" he turned up his nose.

"He's your Sergeant isn't he? It's his responsibility to understand what his team is capable of."

He crossed his arms over his chest, continuing to scowl at her. "You mean, what we need to improve on."

She was silent for a moment as she regarded him. When she did respond, she seemed to be choosing her words carefully. "I'm sure those opportunities will present themselves, yes. And I'm sure we'll discover a few limitations as well. But I'd caution you against dwelling on those extremes. This is more about understanding what you're capable of."

"I know what I'm capable of," he stated.

She only gave him a little smile. "Do you now?"

Crosshair felt his chest tighten, conflicted. He liked seeing her smile, he liked hearing her talk. But he did not like being in this exam room and he did not like being challenged. And any time he tried to figure her out, she'd say or do something that completely threw him off.

"Okay, let's start with a squat."

"What is your deal?" he ended up snapping.

She was half-way squatting down herself when she froze, looking up at him in surprise. He usually liked getting reactions out of people, testing just how hard or long he had to poke before he got something. But he wasn't doing this for his amusement. In some ways, she had been the one poking him and now he was the one reacting.

"You haven't looked at my medical chart once. You gave me an assignment that you're not doing anything with. And now you want me to just... move around so Hunter knows what I'm capable of?"

Joan slowly rose back up, but he rambled on.

"Why aren't you weighing me or drawing my blood? Or... or giving me a list of foods I should and shouldn't eat? Or telling me I need to get more sleep? Why?"

"Because I'm not your mom." Joan wasn't silent and thoughtful this time, and her tone wasn't soft anymore. "I'm not your commanding officer giving you orders to follow. You're a grown-ass man, you should know what to eat and when to sleep by now. I'm not here to hold your hand."

"Then why are you here?" he growled, though only because he couldn't help it. He wasn't ready to admit she was already making good points. "Because you aren't doing your job."

"My job is to help you do your job," she addressed his challenge with a look in her eyes that made him wonder if he should be just a little bit afraid. She paused, taking in a measured breath before continuing. "Of the people in this room, who has actually been in an active war zone? Which of us has pointed their gun at a living, breathing being? Who has had to watch their brothers fall beside them and not get up?"

There was a darkness across her features now, a sadness that Crosshair knew he couldn't understand. Not here, not in this sterile facility where everything was simulated and controlled. 

"I know my approach seems unorthodox," she continued, her voice slipping back into its usual calmness. "But it comes from a place of experience and care. Of knowing what's out there, and wanting you boys to be prepared to face it. I think that's why Commander Cody advocated for me to come here."

With that, Crosshair backed down, relaxing his hardened stance and dropping his eyes to the floor. He hadn't realized Cody had been the one to bring her here. Usually it was the Jedi Master, Shaak Ti, who approved the contracted help. She was nice enough, but she was also caught between the politics of the Senate and the sensitivities of the Kaminoans. There was only so much she could do for the clones. Cody, though, he had formed Clone Force 99. He had insisted the four of them weren't defective, or useless, or unworthy. He had seen something in them.

And apparently he had seen something in Joan.

Crosshair lifted his eyes back up to hers, noting their gentle green hue before she spoke again.

"You can bitch and complain the whole way, I don't care. Just know this. When they give me that paper to sign that you're fit for duty, I won't be thinking about charts and numbers. I'll be thinking about your mind, and your heart. If you can't show me in the next couple months that both of those things are strong and healthy, then I'm not signing."

She let her words linger between them for just a moment, just long enough for her to know he'd understood her. Then she relaxed, too, and allowed that wonderful smile to spread back across her features.

"Now. Squat."

* * *

She walked him through a whole hour's worth of movements and positions, testing his strength, flexibility, stamina.... She did all the same movements as well, claiming she was providing a baseline to compare him to, but he was getting the sense she just didn't like to keep still. He was impressed with how much she was able to do herself.

For the most part, he was focused on proving himself... his capabilities. He was starting to like that word. But he also couldn't help occasionally looking over at Joan and admiring her, too. He no longer cared about "seeing through" her; he just wanted to see her.

"Crosshair," she said once they'd wrapped up and he was about to leave. He turned, hoping she couldn't notice the blush that was undoubedtly coloring his cheeks.

She had been taking notes on the pad of paper during their exercise, and she handed it back to him now. He took it, noting she had written his name in large letters at the top.

"This is your new chart," she said. "Your brothers each have one as well. I'll record whatever objective data I can, but you need to fill in the gaps with all the things that make up who you are and what you're capable of. And you need to share it with your team. You know yourself better than I do, and they know you even more. Don't shut them out."

This time, Crosshair let himself smile back at her. He wasn't sure if he was doing it right, but it was the only thing he could think of doing to apologize for his previous outburst. He took the paper and left with a renewed sense of purpose and worth.

And with just a little bit of a crush on Joan Vo.

[argylemnwrites]

Facts, Fibs, and Futures

Pairing: Mal Volari x MC (Raina - f!human)

Book: Blades of Light and Shadow (Chapter 4)

Word Count: ~3300

Rating: PG-13 (innuendo)

Summary: A evening of games, cards, and fortune-telling gives Mal a better understanding of Raina.

Author’s Note: Wish I had time to do more for @bladesappreciationweek, but happy to have at least snuck this piece in under the wire for Day 7 - MC/wildcard. It’s a little bit about my MC, a little about the gang in their early days, and a little glimpse at some early Mal/MC flirtation.

“...And so I convinced the Contessa of Ditorilla that I was merely a figment of her imagination, conjured up by her deepest desires.”

Raina couldn’t help but snort as she caught the tail end of the undoubtedly false story Mal was spinning for Nia and Tyril as she walked towards them on the deck. She’d been staring at the horizon, trying to calm her stomach. She didn’t want to admit it and give Mal more of a reason to see her as naive, a kit with no experience, but the truth was that the rocking of Gerhard’s ship on the waves left her fairly nauseous. She hoped she would get used to the sensation soon, but in the meantime, she had to resort to attempting simple solutions. Hopefully, the hour she just spent by herself along the railing would be seen as her just wanting to take in the ocean. Not that that would make her seem any less like a damn kit.

“Based on Raina’s reaction, I am going to go with ‘fib’ on that tale.” Tyril’s voice floated through the air, drawing Raina out of her introspection.

“Come on, Kit. It’s bad enough that you are shockingly skilled at this, but now you have to ruin it for me when you aren’t even playing?” She stopped and glanced over at Mal, tipping back in his chair, one foot braced against the deck, the other resting on the edge of the table where he was sitting with Nia and Tyril. When they made eye contact, he winked at her before placing his hand on his chest in mock pain.

“Raina, you should join us!” Nia called out, twisting around in her chair to flash a bright smile.

“Yes, please do,” added Tyril. “This… ruffian has convinced us to play some sort of game where we have to determine whether a statement is the truth or a lie.”

“Yeah, Fib or Fact,” Raina said as she sat down in the free chair between Nia and Tyril, “but you aren’t really playing unless you are drinking.”

“See! Thank you! I told you guys this was a drinking game!” Mal cried out, gesturing across the table to Raina with a flourish. 

Tyril shook his head briskly. “I do not understand the human fascination with needing to create banal games to drink.”

“I don’t know; I think it’s just a fun way to pass the time.” Raina glanced over to her left and gave Tyril a little shrug.

“But we know Elf Boy here would rather die than have fun.”

Tyril opened his mouth, but before he could respond, Nia cut in. “Please, we can’t be at each other’s throats constantly.”

Tyril glanced between Nia and Mal, the openingly-mocking grin plastered on Mal’s face clearly fueling the fire that Nia was trying to extinguish. After a few tense and silent seconds, he gave a terse little nod. “Fine, but if I have to listen to any more stories of his romantic... conquests, I make no promises.”

Nia let out a little sigh. “Good. Well, maybe we should pick a different game anyway, since Raina is always right at this one.”

“Is that so?”

Raina smiled and tilted her head to the side. “I’m very good at reading people. Particularly his Magnificence over there.” She gestured across the table towards Mal, who plastered a fake shocked expression on his face, eyebrows raised and eyes wide, as he mouthed “Me?” before grinning and shooting Raina a wink.

“They played quite a bit on our journey to Port Parnassus,” Nia added. “I think Mal only got her four or five times.”

“Well, nevermind then. Let’s keep playing,” Tyril said, leaning back slightly and crossing his arms, the corners of his lips quirking upwards as he glanced back at Mal.

“Nah, don’t want to offend your delicate sensibilities with my more scandalous accounts,” he responded, waggling his eyebrows.

“Does anyone know any other games we could play? I don’t know if I want to gamble again.” Nia said, clearly trying to move past any sniping between the two males of their little party. 

“Awww, priestess. Didn’t enjoy your first taste of betting?”

Her cheeks flushed as she shook her head. “I don’t think it’s for me, Mal.”

"Just you wait. We'll bring out your wild side one of these days," Mal said, winking at Nia before giving her a very genuine looking smile. "Since cards are out, does anyone have any other ideas?"

Tyril didn't move to suggest anything, sitting still, his arms still locked across his armor. Nia kept glancing around the group, a hopeful gleam in her eyes that made it clear that she was counting on someone else to offer up an idea.

Raina found her mind drifting to Kade. He always knew how to entertain a group. He could tell stories, pull out random facts and tidbits of info. He just kept the conversation flowing.

"Maybe we can still use the cards," she said, tilting her head to the side. "My brother would sometimes use the deck to tell fortunes. I think I remember the basics."

"I can do you one better than that, Kit. I happen to be a fortune telling expert." Mal was grinning widely as he shuffled the deck while he stared her down.

"Really." Tyril's deadpan answer conveyed extreme skepticism.

"Yes, really. Are you doubting my skills?”

“As a rule, yes. But doubly so here, seeing as you lack any ability to channel the Light.”

“Don’t need your Light to do this, just pure intuition. So how about it, Elf Boy? Want a chance to glimpse into your future?”

Raina thought Tyril might unsheathe his blade right there, but after a moment he merely shook his head and pushed his chair back as he stood up rapidly. “I’ll pass. Goodnight, Nia. Raina. Vagrant.” And with that he was off, heading below deck without a glance back. Nia looked worried at his rapid departure, but Mal seemed utterly unfazed, leaning forward and letting the front legs of his chair fall to the deck as he spun to face Nia.

“What about you, priestess? Care to see what’s in store for you?”

“Oh! I think I would rather just watch, if you don’t mind.”

“I guess that leaves you, Kit. You up for it, or are you scared of what the cards might hold?”

Raina laughed, leaning across the table and grabbing the cards from his hand. “Oh, I definitely want to see this.”

Mal chuckled in response. “Alright, you’re going to need to pick out seven cards and-”

“Lay them out in a row in front of me; I know.”

“Wow, talk about pushy! You aren’t even giving me the chance to explain how this works to poor Nia.” Mal’s tone was light and carefree, making it clear he had no qualms about letting her get started.

“Seeing how much you love to hear your own voice, I just figured I would actually get to work while you talked her ear off,” Raina replied, throwing Mal a teasing smile as she shuffled the cards and placed one slightly to the left in front of her.

Nia giggled as Mal clutched his shirt and gasped in exaggerated shock. “Raina, you wound me.”

“Something tells me you’ll survive that devastating blow. Nia, have you ever seen this done before?”

She shook her head, watching as Raina placed cards down one by one in a row.

“It’s pretty simple, really,” Raina said, shuffling the deck again before selecting her next card. “I’m supposed to select seven cards that ‘speak to me’ and place them face down in front of me. The first two are said to represent elements of my past, the middle three my present, and the final two my future.”

“Does it work?”

“Of course! Don’t you trust me? Would I make something up?”

“Constantly,” said Nia, causing Raina and Mal to both burst out laughing.

“Slowly but surely, we’ll get you out of your Drakna shell, priestess. It’s inevitable,” said Mal before taking the remaining cards back from Raina. “You happy with your seven?”

“Just get started, Mal. Let’s see if you can back up your bragging with some action.”

“What type of action are you interested in, Kit? Cause I can do a lot-”

“-That’ll make Nia feel real uncomfortable. So how about we stick to the fortune telling for now.”

“For now? Oh, I can work with that,” he said with a wink before pointing to the card Raina had set further to the left. “Alright, first card here is the Base Card. It reflects your origins, your roots.” Mal flipped the card over, showing a village burning, humans crying in the streets, causing Raina’s breath to catch in her throat for just a second.

“The Destruction,” she finally said, trying to hide her shock.

“Yeah. Obviously not a very happy card. In this position, it usually means death and tragedy.”

It was a very fitting card for someone orphaned in a bandit massacre. Raina didn’t quite know how to process it. She didn’t put much stock in things like this. In fact, when she’d watched Kade do this before, he’d never had something so… perfect come up. He usually had to spin things with some very nebulous interpretations to make the cards even remotely work for the person in front of him. But Mal had stumbled into an accurate first card for this reading, and he knew nothing about that part of her past.

“Raina, is that-” Nia started, but she stopped abruptly. Raina glanced up from the card to see Mal shaking his head subtly. Given his reluctance to discuss his own history, it made sense that he could recognize a similar desire in her at this moment.

“Keep going.” Raina said after a few seconds of tense silence. Mal only paused for a second more before he kept going.

“Second card is the Core Card. It is still about your past, but it focuses more on the personal, the fundamentals of your personality more than your background.” He turned over the next card and started laughing as what could best be described as two elves in a very intimate embrace was revealed.

“The Passion. Tell me, Kit - you have a lot of heartbroken lovers pining for you back in Riverbend?”

Raina chuckled, glancing up and staring Mal straight in the eye. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“Absolutely,” he said without missing a beat, causing Raina to laugh in earnest and Nia to cough into her Bristlegreen tea.

“Let’s just say I have no objections to your reading so far,” Raina said with a smirk. Mal joined in laughing at that, while Nia’s cheeks flushed very dark.

“I think I might turn in,” she said, placing one of her hands against her cheek, her bracelet catching the moonlight.

“Aww, sorry priestess. I promise this is the most scandalous card in the deck,” Mal said, giving Nia a contrite little nod.

Nia glanced between Mal and Raina before shaking her head. “No, it’s alright. I’m rather tired, and something tells me the innuendo will find a way to come back with you two.”

“Nia, we’re sorry.”

“Yeah, we can keep it clean… or at least mostly clean,” Mal added with a little shrug that was probably meant as an apology.

But Nia just shook her head. “It’s fine. Enjoy the rest of your evening.” She gave them both a gentle smile before standing up, waving as she made her way below deck to their shared quarters.

“And then there were two,” said Mal. “You want to keep going, or do-”

“Of course,” said Raina. “You promised me a glimpse at my future. I expect you to deliver.”

Mal grinned before shifting his hand towards the third card positioned in front of Raina. “This position is the Breaking Card. It’s supposed to represent the turning point that takes you from your past to your present.”

“Kade always said the Breaking Card represented the transition from childhood to adulthood when he did this.”

Mal shook his head. “Sometimes that’s the case, but it is more about growing up in the abstract, not literally aging.” He flipped over the card, revealing an unbalanced scale.

“The Unjust? What is that supposed to mean here?”

“It is usually interpreted to mean an imbalance and loss of stability, an upsetting of how life had been. Sometimes it refers to political upheaval or a change in power structure, but it can also be more personal, like a messy break up or the loss of the family business-”

“Or the entrapment of a brother in the Shadow Realm?”

He glanced up at her, wincing a little bit. “Uhh, yeah. That would apply here.” He moved as if to grab her hand, but apparently thought better of it, dropping his fingers to the table and tapping them restlessly a few times instead. “Do you want to stop, Raina?”

She shook her head. “This reading feels shockingly accurate. Who would I be to turn down a chance at knowing my future?”

He nodded, then moved to the middle card. “Alright, so the middle position is considered the Drive Card. It reflects the biggest event of your present.” The card he flipped over showed white light pouring from above colliding in the center with dark smoke from below. It was the Morality, the card that everyone who did readings like this interpreted as a conflict between good and evil forces.

“Well, that’s easy enough to interpret. Battle between light and dark has to represent our taking on the Shadow Court. Keep going.”

“Woah, I thought I was the one doing this reading, Kit.”

Raina smiled and shrugged. “I told you Kade liked to do this around the tavern. Besides, I’m far more interested in the outcome of the Drive Card,” she said, tapping next to the sixth card.

“Ahh, yes. The Reckoning Card. But first we need to see your Key Card to figure out what part of your present is going to be most important for your future. Shape your journey going forward.” He revealed the Twins, a male and female orc with nearly identical features.

“Well I knew the accuracy couldn’t last,” Raina said with a little laugh. “I know for a fact I don’t have a long lost twin waiting for me out there.”

Mal shook his head. “No one interprets this card so literally, Kit. It usually thought to indicate meeting someone with a… similar soul.” He paused before finishing that thought, almost as if trying to find a less emotional phrasing.

“I’m surprised your head didn’t explode from saying something so sentimental.”

“Hey, I don’t make the rules! I’m just the messenger.”

“Uh huh. So I’m going to meet someone very like me and they’re going to define the rest of my life?”

“Yeah, that’s a fair interpretation of this card in that position.”

“So, you’re saying I’m going to meet someone else with a drive for adventure and to see as much of the realm as possible and what? Go into business with them?”

Mal took a sip of his ale without breaking eye contact. “Possibly. The key card is usually read in a more passionate light than that, though.”

“Is this considered a romantic card then?” Raina found herself staring at Mal, unable to break his gaze. 

“For humans, yes. The Key Card in general is often considered to be a romantic card. Or at least it usually gets interpreted that way.”

“So I’m going to fall for my fellow adventurer?”

He kept looking right at her as he said, “Well, that would be the most common way the Twins are read in this situation.”

Things suddenly felt tense and loaded, far more expectant than they had any right to be. Not wanting to dwell on the implications of that card, Raina looked to diffuse the moment. “Of course, given that my Core Card was the Lovers, it might just be that I flirt with this adventurer until the next best thing comes along.” Raina knew she was ignoring the fact that the Key Card was supposed to carry the reading from the present to the future, but she didn’t know how to process the depth of such a statement. Not now, when so much was left to do to defeat the Shadow Court and to save Kade. And certainly not when she was staring at the person she felt more similar to than anyone else she’d met in a long time.

Mal seemed to sense her desire to not address the realities and details of such a prediction, instead laughing at her joke. “Love ‘em and leave ‘em your style, too?”

She smirked as she gave him a coy little shrug. “No comment.”

“Fair enough. I want stories later though, Kit.”

Raina waved him off and shook her head. “Just finish my reading, Mal.”

“A valid subject change, I’ll grant you that. So, you already told me that you know that the Reckoning Card represents the eventual outcome of the Drive Card. Ready to see how things go on your mission of doom?”

She rolled her eyes, but nodded. With how attuned this whole reading had been, she found herself eager to see the next card, almost believing it might actually represent their future.

Mal pulled the card toward him, drawing out the reveal. “Huh,” was all he said before placing the card face up in front of her.

“The Double-Edged Sword?”

“Yeah.”

“Does that mean we defeat the Shadow Court?”

Mal shrugged. “This card usually reflects either a desired outcome at a high price, or a wish come true that causes a new set of problems.”

“So not exactly the greatest card for the Reckoning Card.”

“But not the worst either. It’s often portrayed as a mixed outcome. Most tellers would interpret this as reflecting success when it comes to the Shadow Court, but either after suffering some steep consequences or having to traipse through all three hells. That sort of thing."

“Well, I guess that’s better than outright defeat.”

“That’s the spirit! Surviving by the skin of your teeth is all you need, anyway! Easy success is overrated.”

“And highly unlikely?”

“Yeah, that too. You ready for your final card?”

“Hit me with it.”

“Alright, so the final position is the Unwinding Card. It’s supposed to represent the overall course of your life once you’ve fully moved out of the present.” Mal flipped the final card over, showing a golden, gleaming, cup, letting out a little whistle as he saw it.

“The Golden Chalice feels like a good card here.”

“It’s a great one, Kit. It represents comfort, pleasure, contentment. In this position, it’s basically saying your life will be filled with all you could want in the future.”

Raina nodded. “Well, at least it seems like no matter what the Shadow Court deals us, we come out of it alright. Unless you are just an awful fortune teller.”

Mal chuckled at that, sliding the seven cards back into his deck. “I make no promises for the accuracy of these predictions.”

“Where did you learn how to do this anyway?”

Raina noticed that he swallowed roughly as he tucked the cards back into his sack. “That’s a story for another time,” he said finally. “You ready to call it a night?”

She shook her head. “Not just yet."

"You want any company?"

Raina gave him a smile and nodded. “Sure, that would be nice.”

And so he moved over into the chair next to her, following her gaze as she looked up at the stars. The silence was comfortable and easy and for several moments, she just soaked in the night sky.

“So really, how many jilted lovers are we talking for you?” Mal’s teasing question pulled Raina out of her thoughts. 

She laughed and shook her head. “Let it go, Mal. Some facts are just better left unmentioned.”

“Fair enough, Kit. Fair enough.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Perma: @walkerswhiskeygirl @octobereighth @kimmiedoo5 @mom2000aggie

Blades: @marshmallowsandfire

Mal x MC: @anotherbeingsworld​

[gleekto]

Fic: Unsolicited Advice (21/24)

Summary: Blaine and Kurt are 22 and living in New York City. Blaine is in a stale relationship. Kurt likes to have his bachelor fun. They haven’t met yet.

Just your standard coffee shop meet cute…but in a drugstore, in the condom aisle.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20

**Update: This fic will be 24 parts. I will publish as a full fic and on AO3 on Christmas day, adding in the final word prompt somewhere in there for you to find, if you so desire. 

Unsolicited Advice - Part 21 - Vanish (Blaine POV)

Blaine tamps down his feelings of disappointment at Kurt’s offer - to go to Vibe so Blaine can explore his newly discovered casual self.  He did say that to Kurt. And he meant it. Or at least he thought he did. The sex with Kurt was amazing and if that’s how Kurt does it, then he guesses he can do it that way too. He wants casual sex. Only just with Kurt. Which he supposes is an oxymoron and  is the problem that he needs to ignore right now because they’re about to go out and have some fun. With other people.

It’s not the same as last week. Or the week before. They dance together, but alone together, deliberately making space, keeping their hands to themselves. 

“There he is,” Kurt claps his hands. “Green-shirt guy. I can vanish so he thinks you’re alone?” Kurt offers. Blaine thinks Kurt’s almost eager. Too eager.

Blaine looks up and sees a reasonably good looking dark brown-haired guy and yup, he’s eyeing Blaine. Blaine looks back at Kurt looking at him, wide-eyed and encouraging, and then looks back at the guy, assessing the situation. He feels nothing. Except maybe annoyed. Which is not a good sign. And the guy is dressed terribly.

“He’s wearing a flannel shirt, Kurt,” Blaine shakes his head, scandalized. “So not my type. You can definitely stay.”

Kurt laughs and thuds his head on Blaine’s shoulder, momentarily at ease in their shared judgement.  Then he seems to remember and pulls back. “Oh who is your type then, grandpa?” Kurt pulls at his bowtie.

You. “Oh I don’t know.”

“What was Stephen like?”

“He was cute. Good looking, I mean. And nice, a good student,” Blaine is contemplating. “You know, I’m not sure he was really my type either. Too vanilla. I just hadn’t figured it out yet. I’m more interested in your type,” Blaine dodges the question though he really does actually want to know.

“Male?” Kurt laughs and Blaine rolls his eyes at him. “No, not just that. Also hot.” Blaine crosses his arms. “But I don’t know. I never usually get close enough to find out.”

“Why?”

“You know I have very high standards,” Kurt deflects. Blaine just gives him another look. “Oh I don’t know. Something complicated about a history of not being allowed and then really being allowed but being afraid of disappointment,” Blaine is sitting on his bar stool, looking intently at Kurt. “Or of disappointing,” Kurt adds quickly. “But you definitely don’t want to hear about this here.” Kurt stops.

“I do, actually.”

“Well, we may just have to take a rain check because the tall guy in the tank top with the amazing body is definitely looking right at you. And he is definitely hot.”

Blaine looks up in surprise and then is amused. The guy is looking right at him with a wide warm smile. And Blaine agrees he is very good looking.  “That’s because I know him.” It’s Mike from dance class.  “My friend, Mike. And he is definitely hot. A friend from school - he’s in dance.”

“Blaine hey!” It’s so nice to see a friendly face in this pressured situation but he definitely did not think Mike was gay. Pretty certain he has a girlfriend. “How are you?”

“I’m good. You?” 

Blaine must be looking at him questioningly because Mike continues. “I’m here with my brother. Promised him a night out in New York City if he came to visit.” Blaine nods. Makes sense. “Is this your boyfriend?”

Blaine blushes. “Stephen? No no, we broke up, actually. This is my friend, Kurt.”

“Oh. Okay then. Hey Kurt,” A guy who Blaine presumes is Mike’s younger brother, pulls on Mike’s arm beckoning him back to the dance floor. “I’ll see you at school, Blaine.  He’s cute,” Mike mouths to him as he’s pulled away. Blaine hopes he didn’t hear. 

“Mike’s brother looks pretty cute,” Blaine spots him on the dance floor. “And I can confirm he comes from good genes. Would be too weird for me but he is here for a night on the town,” Blaine suggests half-heartedly. This is what they’re here for so he’s playing along.

Kurt looks up quickly before turning back to Blaine. “He’s cute but too young.”  Blaine nods, a slight feeling of relief that he doesn’t want to acknowledge. Back to the drawing board. Who might be next? “You know, I think tonight may just be one of those nights that I leave alone,” Kurt says, blessedly ending the discussion. Blaine turns to him, not sure if he’s joking. But Kurt’s face is sincere and calm. His eyes are warm and almost sad, and he is, in fact, getting up from the barstool.

Blaine nods and gets up himself. “Yeah,” He knocks into Kurt’s side. “Me too. I’m coming with you.”

Kurt looks at him. He looks back but doesn’t say anything else as they exit the club. Blaine didn’t mean to be so ambiguous, didn’t intend for “I’m coming with you,” to have two possible meanings.  But it does.  And he has no idea which one he meant. 

[theorajones]

OR IS HE?

I present to you, the Michael Knight Manwhore Index! 

This was shamelessly ripped off from inspired by Sara_merry’s Michael Knight Sex Project on LJ, which tragically appears to have been abandoned after the first 14 episodes. But having a) a ton of spare time on my hands due to the ongoing Coronapocalypse, b) a steadfast dedication to sitting around in my pajamas watching Knight Rider instead of cleaning the gutters or replacing my car’s valve cover gaskets and c) a burning need to know how accurate my estimate of Michael’s conquests was in my last trashy fanfic, I persevered.

Methodology: I assigned each prominent female guest character (and the occasional male and/or regular character) a probability of having gotten it on with Michael, based on my subjective interpretation of how much they flirted/made out/made plans for a romantic getaway/actually went on a romantic getaway. Episodes in which at least one character had a 50% or greater probability (including with characters who were talked about but not seen onscreen) were assigned a value of 1. Episodes with a 49% or lower probability were assigned a value of 0. Values were totaled to calculate each season’s MKMI number.

TL;DR results:

 (# denotes probable sexytimes with someone who wasn’t seen onscreen, * denotes Michael’s participation was most likely non-consensual)

Season 1 MKMI number: 13

04 - Good Day at White Rock 05 - Slammin’ Sammy’s Stunt Show  Spectacular 06 - Just My Bill # 07 - Not a Drop to Drink 08 - No Big Thing # 09 - Trust Doesn’t Rust # 10 - Inside Out 11 - The Final Verdict 13 - Forget Me Not 15 - Give Me Liberty... or Give Me Death 16 - The Topaz Connection 17 - A Nice, Indecent Little Town 20 - Knight Moves

Season 2 MKMI number: 6

06 - Return to Cadiz 07 - KITT the Cat 08 - Custom KITT 14 - Diamonds Aren’t a Girl’s Best Friend 18/19 - Goliath Returns * 23 - Let It Be Me

Season 3 MKMI number: 7

09 - Dead of Knight 12 - Custom Made Killer # 13 - Knight by A Nose 14 - Junk Yard Dog 15 - Buy Out 17 - The Nineteenth Hole 22 - Circus Knights

Season 4 MKMI number: 5

03 - KITTnap 08 - Many Happy Returns 12 - The Scent of Roses 16 - Redemption of a Champion 22 - Voo Doo Knight

Conclusion: Michael is not nearly as much of a manwhore as people think, at least based on what we see onscreen. Although he clearly does have a social life outside of what we’re shown in every episode, so there’s still a world of possibilities...

Detailed episode analysis below the cut:

s1e01/02 - Knight of the Phoenix

Lonnie - Don't seem to know each other very well, no signs of other than professional interest. Probability: 0%

Tanya - Some kind of working relationship as Michael Long, but she doesn't seem to recognize his voice as MK. Plus he was possibly still engaged to Stevie as ML.

T: "I can promise you a very rewarding... *partnership*." M: "Not this time."

Probability: 5% (as ML)     0% (as MK)

Maggie - She expresses regret at not going for him at the end, but also seems more interested in finding a father figure for her son. It's implied that Michael left town before anything could happen. He did say he'd come back and visit. Did he ever? Would Maggie be up for a fling even though she knows he can't settle down? Potentially but not necessarily.

Probability - 30%

s1e03 - Deadly Maneuvers

Robin - They keep things mostly professional during the investigation. Michael goes to his own hotel room. At the end, it looks like he and Devon are leaving together. Michael is wearing a different shirt in the last scene than in the one where he rescues Robin from the munitions range so it's unclear how much time has passed. Theoretically sexytimes could have transpired but there aren't really any strong suggestions that they have.

Probability: 10%

s1e04 - Good Day at White Rock

Sherry - "Keep driving." "For how long?" "Until one of us runs out of gas."

Probability: 95%

s1e05 - Slammin' Sammy's Stunt Show Spectacular

Lisa - She's definitely interested. And he's sticking around for another 3 weeks, so definitely some opportunity. He doesn't seem as flirtatious with her as he was with Sherry but it's definitely a possibility.

Probability: 70%

s1e06 - Just My Bill

Sabrina (offscreen) - Devon breaks Michael's date with her. Not enough info to draw any conclusions about whether it's a first and/or last date. A definite possibility.

Probability: 50%

Senator Maggie - That would have been subversive af, but alas, no.

Probability: 0%

Jane - Doesn't seem that into him at their first meeting. At their breakfast date he asks her how she slept, which presumably he'd know if he'd been there. She does go out to lunch with him and Devon at the end. Possible but not conclusive.

Probability: 25%

s1e07 - Not A Drop to Drink

Francesca - They have kind of a "channel the sexual tension into arguments" thing, but like Maggie in the pilot, she's probably looking more for somebody who can settle down. Another one where he talks at the end about coming back to visit but we don't know if he ever does. Maybe?

Probability: 50%

S1e08 - No Big Thing

The Unnamed 200-Mile Diversion Girl (offscreen) - I doubt he drove 200 miles out of his way just for coffee and friendly conversation.

Probability: 90%

Carol Reston - They have dinner together but seem to be keeping things strictly business. No apparent indication that they're romantically interested, no "Come back and visit sometime."

Probability: 0%

s1e09 - Trust Doesn't Rust

Rosalyn and/or Rosalie (offscreen) - "What's wrong with a little 'companionship'?"

Probability: 90%

Bonnie - They almost kiss after defeating KARR, but mutually think better of it. Presumably the moment passes and stays passed for another few seasons of UST.

Probability: 0%

s1e10 - Inside Out

(This ep has a higher than average amount of sexual innuendo, including KITT's breathless response to Bonnie adjusting his components, Michael commenting that Bonnie knows how to turn KITT on, KITT straight-facedly giving Michael an accounting of Bonnie's measurements after Michael wonders whether there's a real woman under her jumpsuit, and Michael & KITT's "Maybe I can get something from the girl"/ "I wouldn't touch that line with a 10 foot driveshaft" conversation. "Don't worry, I'll distract her."/"I'll bet." "What was that all about?"/"Biology.")

Linda - WTF was up with him grabbing her in the woods like a skeezoid rapist when he just wanted to give her dinner? She doesn't kick him in the balls so I guess that counts for something. They hug after a conversation in her room later, hold hands and smooch before she goes off to do... something mission related. She saves his ass and helps him drop off the bad guys at the prison. Do they celebrate later? Maybe.

Probability: 70%

s1e11 - The Final Verdict

Cheryl - They're pretty touchy-feely when he visits her in jail, and she gives him a pretty good kiss at the end. Odds are good that they had/will have a romantic relationship at some point.

Probability: 90%

s1e12- A Plush Ride

M: I wanna search Margo's room. K: I've heard that one before. M: It'll give you something to brood about during the night.

Margo - (spoiler alert) She's a terrorist. They get physical when she catches him searching her room but it doesn't turn into anything more than fighting. He kisses her (in front of everybody, wtf) after she (supposedly) saves him from being murdered by Jacobs. But the next time we see the two of them together, she's taking him prisoner. She's pretty touchy-feely with him while he's tied up but there's no time for her to do anything (and presumably he wouldn't be into it if she did, what with her being a terrorist and all).

Probability: 0%

Bonnie - Uncharacteristically flirtatious, appears to be a bit tipsy. No real implication that anything happened, though.

Probability: 0%

s1e13 - Forget Me Not

Maria Elena - They're flirting up a storm in their first scene. And their third one. And fourth one. Also she's frequently scantily clad around him. Michael to KITT in the last scene: "See you in two days, buddy." Oh yeah, he was planning something.

Probability: 95%

Micki - She's a little flirtatious too before she loses her memory (although he starts it by fake-flirting with her). And also feels comfortable enough to just run around in Michael's shirt and little else after she loses her memory, although she says she doesn't just meet guys at parties and go home with them (she thinks). He tells her she's a nice lady but doesn't seem that romantically interested in her.

Probability: 10% Until...

Maria Elena & Micki - They've become fast friends by the last scene and both kiss him on the cheek at the same time after he brings them both flowers (at KITT's instigation). Why do I get the feeling "Anybody wanna cruise a hamburger joint?" was as close as they could get to implying a threesome on 80s family hour tv?

Probability: 60%

s1e14 - Hearts of Stone

M: KITT, don't fall in love with one of these beautiful cars and run off on me, huh?

K: I wouldn't dream of it.

Angie - She's with Roberto. Also (spoiler alert) a scam artist criminal.

Probability - 0%

The blonde lady at the bar - They flirt and she tells him she hopes to see him later, but no indication that she ever does.

Probability: 5%

Devon - Oh man, the way he's eyeing Michael up in his hotel room. And if we're still in the pilot universe, Michael is a dead ringer for a young Wilton, whom I will never be unconvinced Devon wasn't either secretly in love with or a relationship with, s2 Devon Miles Heterosexuality Minutes be damned. We never really get any indication that Michael swings that way, though (at least with non-automotive males, *wink*).

Probability: 0%

The nurse - In the novelization she flirts with him and kisses him, but no indication of romantic interest in the actual episode.

Probability: 0%

s1e15 - Give Me Liberty... Or Give Me Death

Bonnie - He tries to ask her out, but she's busy spending the night with KITT. :D She also doesn't seem very impressed with his Liberty drama.

Probability: 0%

Liberty Cox - When she shows up in his room, he seems a lot less interested in her than she is in him, but he doesn't exactly fight her off when she starts kissing him. He tells KITT he went to bed and she went back to her room, but she's sure more pissed about not getting to ride along with him the next day than you'd think she'd be if all they'd done was smooch. Also she's back at FLAG HQ at the end so maybe she's spending some time in town.

Probability: 90%

Dorothy Ackridge - He tries to be flirtatious but she has no time for his shenanigans. she's grateful when he saves her life but doesn't express any romantic interest in him.

Probability: 0%

s1e16 - The Topaz Connection

Lauren Royce - She takes half the episode to warm up to him but they have fun in Vegas. "You do the cake, I'll do the champagne, and we'll see what else comes to mind." "Deal." Things look like they might be headed in a steamy direction as evidenced by the romantic music playing but they get cockblocked by Bob. They smooch before she gets on the bogus plane. In the last scene they kiss some more and she tells him they have some unfinished business.

Probability: 95%

s1e17 - A Nice, Indecent Little Town

KITT: Michael is... indisposed. Devon: Oh. That means he's either with a young lady or in jail.

Jobina - He's definitely turning on the charm. She helps Michael escape from jail (with KITT's assistance). "Is there anything this car can't do?" "I think a woman would be a better judge of that." "I beg your pardon?" I don't even know what that's supposed to mean but I want to believe it's something saucy. Not actually much indication onscreen that anything happened but in the last scene Michael says he hopes Jobina will stay in town and Bonnie asks if that's so he'll know where to find her. Michael responds, "Yeah, that's a thought." Possibilities here.

Probability: 50%

s1e18 - Chariot of Gold

Dr. Charlene Litton - He chats her up at the party, but it's in the line of duty. She's kind of condescending to him. She does break away from the creepy IQ cult and help Michael foil their plans, but isn't seen again.

Probability: 0%

Bonnie - They do their usual UST thing, and dance at the party until Devon cuts in. He's extremely protective of her. He talks her out of her brainwashing by telling her "We're a team, we love each other." He makes her breakfast and brings her a rose at the end. Still, no overt indication that anything beyond camaraderie happens.

Probability: 0%

s1e19 - White Bird

Stevie - Presumably they've gotten it on in the past but there was too much going on in this episode for anything to happen. Also presumably Wilton didn't do any renovations below Michael's neck so if they'd gotten it on she would have known with 100% certainty who he was.

Probability: 95% (as ML)     5% (as MK)

s1e20 - Knight Moves

Terri - He asks her to go dancing. She turns him down but finds him likable/trustworthy enough to let him give her a lift home. They seem to be bonding but when he goes in for a kiss she says goodnight and goes in the house (alone). His little smile afterwards suggests he's up for the challenge. After he saves her life and her other driver threatens to quit she tells him she really likes him and hugs her but doesn't push it further than that. She tells him the next day that it was the first time she ever wanted to kiss a man (but that she had before anyway D: ). At the end they do go dancing (and she puts on a dress because heaven forbid a tough woman should ever fail to embrace conventional femininity immediately upon being found attractive by any halfway decent dude) and it's a reasonable assumption that they did more than just *dance* until dawn. I kind of want to roast Michael a little for not being more aghast about the fact that she's kissed dudes she didn't really want to and for encouraging her to give up her Tomboy Terri persona but it was a less enlightened era and at least he didn't hit on her when she was vulnerable which is more than a lot of dudes of his time (or this one, for that matter)  would have done so I'll cut him some slack.

Probability: 90%

s1e21 - Nobody Does It Better

Connie - He's checking her out on the tennis court but (spoiler alert) she gets murdered.

Probability: 0%

Flannery Roe - Things are off to a rocky start. She seems to take his "do you like to play?" at the club as a come on, pulls a gun on him (not entirely unjustifiably) when he corners her in the cul-de-sac and has him arrested on suspicion of being a stalker and/or rapist. She warms up to him a bit after he provides a comforting hug when she finds Connie's body but still gets a little shirty with him at the restaurant and turns down his offer of a ride home. She's antagonistic toward him when they meet again at the club. He saves her from the bad guys and for some reason she's back at the Foundation HQ at the end but they don't do any huggy-kissy stuff so odds are minimal.

Probability: 1%

s1e22 - Short Notice

K: Since you haven't asked, I'll tell you. It was demoralizing, demeaning. M: What? K: Police impound. M: Oh. You had me worried there for a minute.

Nicole - She keeps him at arm's length initially (understandably since she's hitching). Turns out she's another single mom, so her main preoccupation is getting her kid back, and she doesn't really care if she dicks Michael over in the process. He does get along well with her kid when they find her so that probably gets him a few points in her eyes. They hold hands after he beats all the bad guys in the western town and hug at the end but don't kiss. She's probably looking for a new dad for Natalie. He tells Natalie he hopes they'll see him again but nothing conclusive.

Probability: 10%

s2e01/02 - Goliath

Rita Wilcox - Another one where there was possible interest but probably wasn't time for anything to happen. She spends half the episode either pissed off at him or faking a relationship with Garthe, and then they're busy trying to take out Goliath. They hug after Garthe and Goliath are out of commission but don't kiss. At the end she's on her way out of town. It's unclear how much time has passed between that and the last scene but when she implies he should look her up if he's in LA, he doesn't mention that the Foundation's home base is in SoCal (or so it appears)? I don't think he's the type who wouldn't go for a woman he was interested in just because she'd hooked up with his evil twin (even if he was a little judgy when he found out she was shacking up with Garthe again), so maybe he's just not that into her.

Probability: 25%

s2e03 - Brother's Keeper

Lisa - Things aren't exactly off to a great start when he kidnaps her. She warms up to him a little by the end and they give each other a fairly chaste goodbye smooch. He says they'll see each other again and she says she hopes so. Maybe?

Probability: 30%

April: He's on a kidnapping spree and drags her to the beach at the end. Still, no real indicator that anything romantic is going to ensue.

Probability: 5%

s2e04 - Merchants of Death

Camela - They seem to keep it professional except for a goodbye kiss. Not even a "We'll see each other again." Odds are minimal.

Probability: 5%

s2e05 - Blind Spot

Julie - She's in some kind of platonic lifemate relationship with John, which may end up being more than platonic thanks to Michael's yenta-ing.

Probability: 0%

s2e06 - Return to Cadiz

Jennifer Shell - They have dinner together and she seems to open up to him but it isn't overtly romantic. They have a spat but hug and make up when he finds the secret treasure cave. She kisses him after he rescues her from the bad guys. An undisclosed amount of time has passed before they have dinner and he heads out but they do the "Will I see you again?/count on it" thing before she kisses him goodbye. It's possible, maybe even likely.

Probability: 50%

s2e07 - KITT the Cat

Grace - She's definitely flirting with him when she invites him to the party. And then tries to convince him she's not the burglar by making out with him. At the end he kisses her goodbye pretty interestedly while promising to keep a closer eye on her. Odds are good.

Probability: 85%

s2e08 - Custom KITT

Suzanne Weston - She's pretty overt about her interest in him, but when she shows up in his room he seems relieved when KITT beeps him on the comlink. She tells him he knows where to find her if he's ever in the mood for something other than "good, clean" fun, so by implication he hasn't been.

Probability: 0%

Carrie - She's into him enough to get jealous when she thinks he hooked up with Suzanne. "If our plan works and the thief tries to steal KITT tonight, you can thank me." She kisses him first, but then he kisses her and tells her that's "very close" to his way of wanting to be thanked. The implications aren't particularly subtle. They enthusiastically hug after catching the bad guys. When she wins the car show, they smooch with more "I don't know how to thank you... but I'm sure I'll think of a way" innuendo. He tells her he'll see her later, and I think it's a strong possibility that he will.

Probability: 90%

s2e09 - Soul Survivor

M: Devon, I felt something in here... I don't know, a presence... KITT's presence.

K: Oh Michael, do I look just dreadful? Be honest. M: KITT, what matters to me is who you are, not what you look like. Sure we don't have the car. So we can't turbo boost. So we can't go over 200 miles an hour. It was all icing on the cake anyway. It wasn't you. K: It wasn't? M: No, the car was fantastic but if you break it down it was steel, rubber and glass. We can always make another one. But you, you are a lot more than silicon chips and fancy circuitry, You're my buddy. You're my partner. KITT, you're one of a kind. K: Thank you, Michael. The feeling's mutual.

K: What was it like, Michael? M: What, KITT? K: Seeing my body functioning without me? Or you? M: A little spooky, let me tell ya. K: Did it seem like me? M: Yeah, it did and it didn't. It looked like you, but somehow it just wasn't the same. K: I don't understand. M: It didn't have your soul, KITT. Without that, it could never be the same. K: Thank you, Michael.

Adrianne - She techno-roofies him and the way Randy sticks his head in the door and then guiltily ducks back out as she's leaning over him on the couch kind of suggests he's walking in on something he knows he shouldn't see. Still, Michael appears to be fully clothed when he wakes up in a ditch. Adrianne is totally a creepy douchebag and/or rapist (as we will see more of in Goliath Returns) but she was probably too preoccupied with stealing KITT to do anything in this ep.

Probability: 20%

s2e10 - Ring of Fire

(This is one of two eps where Michael utters the phrase "come on, baby" to KITT while trying to get out of a jam. Obviously NBC's censors had to ruin our fun because it never happens again after this season.)

Layla - She's still married. Doesn't really express romantic interest in Michael and the hero of an 80s family hour tv series probably wouldn't have gotten it on with a married woman no matter how much of an abusive dick her husband was. They do kiss goodbye at the end and he tells her if she ever decides to leave the bayou, she knows where he'll be. If anything ever happens, it's probably in the distant future.

Probability: 5%

s2e11 - Knightmares

M: Whoa, you are hot! K: Quite true, Michael.

Cara - She tries to look out for him after he gets amnesia, but not a lot of indication that she's romantically interested in him, and he's too busy trying to figure out wtf is going on to hit on her. They hug after he rescues her from drowning but we don't see any more of them together.

Probability: 5%

s2e12 - Silent Knight

Marta - No real indication of romantic interest on either side. We  don't see what they're doing as Tino is saying goodbye to KITT but considering he offered her a handshake and not a kiss or even a hug, it's probably safe to say nothing happened.

Probability: 0%

s2e13 - A Knight in Shining Armor

Katherine - She's a little young for him (Michael tells her the treasure was supposed to be her 21st birthday present so presumably she's legal but the fact that she's still in prep school makes her seem younger). Also this is another episode where he begins their acquaintance by first rescuing, then kidnapping the female lead. They don't particularly like each other at first, but hug after his "if nobody can hurt you, then nobody can love you" chat with her, again after he rescues her from the bad guy (again) and after escaping the cave collapse. It seems more friendly than romantic, though.He takes her hand in the cave but it comes off more as sharing a moment than a romantic overture. They kiss at the end but he tells her goodbye and leaves. No indication that they're going to see each other again.

Probability: 5%

s2e14 - Diamonds Aren't A Girl's Best Friend

Lauren - She makes out with him when he first shows up as part of her cover story and he clearly doesn't mind. He's pretty committed to maintaining their cover in subsequent scenes. In the last scene she tells him she'd like "to do it for real" but she's pretty clearly referring to kissing, not *it*. By implication they haven't done more than kiss at this point but when she asks if she'll see him again, he tells her "unless you change her name and move to Okinawa." Future potential.

Probability: 50%

Lauren's boss - She's kind of flirtatious with him when they first meet but no indicator that anything happens.

Probability: 0%

s2e15 - White Line Warriors

Cindy - She's with Ron, who is apparently pretty understanding since he doesn't seem to object to her giving Michael a thank-you kiss at the end.

Probability: 0%

s2e16 - Race For Life

April - He's emotionally supportive and her niece has been introduced to Michael and KITT but no significant indications of anything romantic.

Probability: 0%

s2e17 - Speed Demons

Sabrina - He comes to her rescue when Wade is harassing her at the party, They hug after she talks to him about Kelly. They give each other a chaste goodbye kiss but no real indication of romantic interest.

Probability: 0%

s2318/19 - Goliath Returns

Adrianne - This one gets an asterisk, because whatever happened in Garthe's creepy dungeon after the cutaway to a scandalized KITT didn't look consensual on Michael's side. She pretty obviously went down to there to sleep with him, and the way she staggers out in her bathrobe the next morning while Garthe bitches about how she slept in pretty strongly implies that she actually did, but Michael really seems the opposite of into her and her basically telling him "please me [in bed] and maybe I'll make sure my psycho boyfriend doesn't murder you" is rape by coercion if not by force. Did he grit his teeth and do it just to hedge his bets? Maybe.

Probability: 80%*

s20 - A Good Knight's Work

Gina - He's obviously interested and kisses her before he goes to MMM, but (spoiler alert) she's playing him. Except maybe she's not so bad because she lets him talk her out of shooting him and then they hug. They kiss goodbye at the end but she's going into witness protection and there isn't really any indication that they'll see each other again or that anything romantic transpired.

Probability: 10%

s2e21/22 - Mouth of the Snake

Joanna - She was more interested in Dalton. I deeply want to believe Dalton's invitation to Michael to hang out with them at the end was really an invitation to join them for a threesome because it's the only thing that would make this episode interesting, but Michael takes a rain check and heads out of town.

Probability: 0%

s2e23 - Let It Be Me

Stevie - She's still pretty broken up about her boyfriend's death. He kisses her when they go back to her apartment and she tells him she still dreams about him. The next scene they're wearing different clothes and seemingly some time has passed so maybe something happened after the cutaway?

Probability: 50%

s2e24 - Big Iron

Lucy - She was the woman who was coming out of the hotel room at the beginning. He seemed to be checking her out in that scene but obviously he's not going for a married woman even if she didn't have some other drama going on.

Probability: 0%

s3e01/02 - Knight of the Drones

Bonnie - They hug when he shows up at the university and he makes the "You can sail with me anytime" comment to her at the marina at the end and they link arms to walk to the boat, but not really anything more romantic than that.

Probability: 0%

Margo - She fakes romantic interest in him and he plays along, but (spoiler alert) she's setting him up to be murdered.

Probability: 0%

s3e03 - The Ice Bandits

Bonnie - They walk arm-in-arm into the diamond place, but Michael was making innuendoes about other women when she was sitting right next to him in the car 30 seconds previously so probably nothing really going on.

Probability: 5%

Jody - She's engaged to Charlie. Michael tells Charlie "She's not the one I'm interested in, it's *you*," with his standard flirtatious grin and god, that's hot. Spoiler alert: Charlie is a crook. Even after she finds out the truth she doesn't really express romantic interest in Michael although she does paint his portrait.

Probability: 5%

s3e04 - Knights of the Fast Lane

Diane - He's too preoccupied with Stacy's case to flirt. She hugs him after he rescues her but we don't see them together again.

Probability: 5%

The random cheerleader - She seems interested, but we don't see them together again either.

Probability: 5%

s3e05 - Halloween Knight

Bonnie - He's very protective. Tinhats would probably make something of the fact that her costume is Scarlett O'Hara and his is Rhett Butler. Still, nothing too overtly romantic.

Probability: 5%

Esmerelda - She'd probably put a love spell on him in a hot minute but I think he finds her a little terrifying.

Probability: 5%

Denise - She's friendly but not overly flirtatious. Also she gets murdered before anything can happen.

Probability: 0%

s3e06 - KITT vs. KARR

Mandy - She's with John. No indicators that they're interested in a threesome.

Probability: 0%

s3e07 - The Rotten Apples

Marilyn - They're hardcore flirting and she says she hopes to see him again. They kiss after he wins the mechanical bull contest, but then she catches a bus out of town. She kisses him goodbye and he does this "oh yeah, I still got it" move but we don't get any strong evidence that anything else happened.

Probability: 10%

Rebecca - Not a lot of flirtation, and the kids are always around cockblocking.

Probability: 10%

s3e08 - Knight in Disgrace

(I was almost too distracted by KITT and Michael in this ep to pay attention to the GOTW, lol. KITT's hurt confusion when Michael leaves and him being a total bitch to Michael's would-be replacement and the way he goes with Michael even when he thinks he's on the wrong side of the law, I'm *dying* here...)

Linda - She comes onto him and roofies him at the bar and he wakes up with his shirt undone, but she's Boyd's girlfriend and (spoiler alert) another hapless single mom so she probably didn't do anything untoward, assuming he was even conscious enough by the time she got him home. After she gets to know and trust him she doesn't make any moves on him and they don't smooch or anything at the end.  

Probability: 5%

s3e09 - Dead of Knight

Cindy - It's not entirely clear what their relationship is. At the beginning it looks more like he's trying to pick up on her than they're actually dating. He's obviously really invested in helping her but he'd undoubtedly do the same for anybody who was in mortal peril because of him. At the end in the ambulance he calls her "baby" and says they have a date. In the last scene Cindy is leaving for Broadway soon but they're all together at the Foundation and it's unclear how much time has elapsed. Not conclusive but suggestive.

Probability: 50%

Renard's girlfriend -  She's putting the moves on him while he's feverish and loopy and somehow his shirt has gotten unbuttoned but there's a guard in the room so probably nothing happened.

Probability: 10%

s3e10 - Lost Knight

"If I may be so bold, what on earth were you *doing* down there?"

(LBR, Michael is too busy angsting about KITT to try and get laid in this ep.)

Doug's mom  - In a relationship, although at the end she decides to break things off with her boyfriend so she can focus more on her son. She and Michael kiss goodbye but it's improbable that there's anything more than that since she just said she doesn't need another man around right now.

Probability: 0%

s3e11 - Knight of the Chameleon

Tonie Baxter - They seem to know each other from a previous case. He kisses her on the forehead at the end of their first scene. They don't really seem to interact romantically during this episode. Michael gets distracted by KITT's contest winnings before they have a chance for a goodbye kiss.

Probability: 10%

s3e12 - Custom Made Killer

Unnamed Dancer (offscreen) - Devon: "You've been rather difficult to reach lately. Particularly last night." Michael: "I got a weakness for dancers." HIs protest that they're "innocent girls working their way through college" leaves little doubt about what kind of dancer this was.

Probability: 95%

Joan - No evidence of romantic interest. Also (spoiler alert) she's collaborating with the bad guys.

Probability: 0%

Debra - He flirts at the end and she kisses him goodbye. Lewis says "He'll be back" and she gives a suggestive eyebrow raise. Possible but not conclusive.

Probability: 25%

s3e13 - Knight By A Nose

M: KITT, how close are you? It's getting stuffy in here. K: Any closer and I'll have to marry this limo.

Maxine - They hug and he calls her "sweetheart" when he shows up. Devon accuses Michael of being biased because Max is attractive but he describes her as "a very, very close friend." Yet we never actually see them kiss. Maybe they really are just friends?

Probability: 25%

s3e14 - Junkyard Dog

Fran - He's too preoccupied with KITT to do much flirting for most of the episode, but they're having a picnic/makeout session together in the semi, seemingly alone, at the end. It's a reasonable assumption that things escalated at some point, even if they didn't want a scandalized KITT watching and commenting at that particular moment.

Probability: 80%

s3e15 - Buy Out

Mel - They keep it professional for most of the ep but after he catches the bad guy he tells her she's attractive without her welding mask and they kiss. We don't see them together again but it's possible that more happened.

Probability: 50%

s3e16 - Knightlines

Janet Morgan - She's recently widowed and not in the market yet. No romantic interaction.

Probability: 0%

s3e17 - The Nineteenth Hole

Daisy: Is that thing blown? KITT: I beg your pardon?

Jamie - After they fake being married at the hotel she kisses him before the race. Not a lot of other romantic interaction but he and Bonnie and Devon do seem to be sticking around to watch the race so something could happen.

Probability: 50%

Daisy - He flirts with her a little at the meetup but no indication that it goes beyond that.

Probability: 0%

s3e18 - Knight and Knerd

Allie - She rides off into the sunset with Elliot.

Probability: 0%

Receptionist at Gifford's - He flirts but no indication that it goes anywhere.

Probability: 0%

Vanessa Sutton - Apparently he gives a really good massage but she's (understandably) pissed off that he wasn't who she was expecting the massage from. Also she's a villain and is too busy setting him up to get murdered for anything to happen.

Probability: 0%

s3e19 - Ten Wheel Trouble

M: Hey, are you hungry back there, partner? K: Perhaps a little lonely, Michael. But rather enjoying my independence.

Sally - He turns on the charm when they first meet but things go south rapidly when he talks her brother into going to jail. By the end he's back in her good graces and she likes him enough to steal a kiss from him before he says goodbye. You know her hormonal teenage brain is thinking about it but for reasons that should be obvious, he isn't going there.

Probability: 0%

s3e20 - Knight In Retreat

KITT: Of course, there is one other possibility. Devon: What is that? KITT: The lady of the retreat. She's quite attractive. Of course, knowing Michael the way I do, it would strictly be in the line of duty.

Bianca - She seems to find him physically attractive, and maybe if she hadn't been so busy torturing him she would have tried to have a little fun with him. But considering what he suspects her of, he probably wouldn't have gone too far unless he absolutely had to.

Probability: 0%

Monica - She flirts with him at the bar and comments on what a waste it is to kill him, but nothing is likely to have happened due to both time constraints and her being Bianca's henchwoman.

Probability: 0%

s3e21 - Knight Strike

Sheila - She acts jealous when he makes the date with Tyler but he seems more exasperated than romantically interested in her. They kiss before he goes into the warehouse but it's fairly short and chaste. At the end, she goes off with O'Malley.

Probability: 0%

Tyler - She makes a date with him at the gun range but it's just a distraction. He flirts with her but it's all in the line of duty.

Probability: 0%

s3e22 - Circus Knights

Bonnie: I have to admit, Devon, he looks fantastic. Devon: Yes, in spite of that ridiculous costume he's wearing. Bonnie: No, I'm talking about KITT!

Terri - They keep things professional at first, although when they're in the car together she asks if circus-folk camaraderie is the only reason he's interested in helping her. He says he's be lying if he said yes and presumably she reads it as him being interested romantically. After his near-murder in the ring they have a heart-to-heart talk and kiss. At the end he tells her to call him if she needs anything. *Anything?* Hmmm...

Probability: 50%

Tiger - She hits on him but he's not into it.

Probability: 0%

s4e01/02 - Knight of the Juggernaut

K: I'm asking you how I look. M: You look great, same as always!

Marta - They have some chemistry in their first meeting. He asks her out when they get back to her apartment. But (spoiler alert) she's part of the conspiracy to steal the cernium and sets him up to get murdered (twice). He cools it on the flirting after the first incident (understandably, since if he takes her story at face value she was assaulted and possibly worse) although he still acts protective of her. After she helps them get the bad guys she's hanging out with the Foundation crew at the end but we don't see any more romantic interaction.

Probability: 25%

Jennifer - No overtly romantic interaction. They're antagonistic for most of the episode although they make up at the end.

Probability: 0%

s4e03 - KITTnap

Karen - She's doing her doctoral thesis on KITT and spending a lot of time with Michael in the progress. Judging by the way they're holding hands in their first scene and then making out at her apartment, there's obvious romantic interest. And she clearly has more than academic interest even after (spoiler alert) she gets held hostage by the bad guys so it's a reasonable assumption that if they weren't already banging they're going to at some point.

Probability: 95%

s4e04 - Sky Knight

Bonnie - He's pretty touchy-feely at the airport and they hug after saving the day but no overt romance.

Probability: 5%

s4e05 - Burial Ground

Susan - They keep it professional for most of the episode. He tries to hit on her at the end but she's in a relationship with Eagle. That doesn't stop her from giving him a goodbye kiss but no indicator that it goes any further than that.

Probability: 0%

s4e06 - The Wrong Crowd

Ann - She spends most of the episode being menaced and/or held hostage by the bikers and we don't really see them interact with each other in a non-case-related way.

Probability: 0%

RC - Michael is very tenderly concerned when he finds him knocked out by the side of the road. But probably neither of them swing that way.

Probability: 0%

s4e07 - Knight Sting

Gaye - She seems young. And also kind of annoying. He hugs her in the hospital but it doesn't look particularly romantic. No evidence of interest on either side.

Probability: 0%

Bonnie - He flirts with her when they're planning the operation and she shows him her dress. The rest of the episode they're too busy with the mission for any shenanigans.

Probability: 0%

RC - He's clearly been raiding Michael's closet for that sweater. But Michael is cool with it. No overt indication that they're more than bros, though.

Probability: 0%

s4e08 - Many Happy Returns

Amy - He's flirting up a storm but whoops, Devon is cockblocking and she's actually there with a mission for him. However, it's not all business and she surprises him with a birthday cupcake and some birthday smoochin', until duty calls again. She makes some innuendo about "getting to adolescence and maturity later" as he's leaving so she's obviously willing to take a rain check. She's back in the semi with them at the end and Michael invites her on vacation with him. We don't see her answer but it's a safe bet it's a yes.

Probability: 95%

s4e09 - Knight Racer

Elena - At first it's all business but they seem to be having fun dancing at the reception. They have a heart-to-heart talk in the parking lot until the hit man shows up. They hug after the big reveal about Elena's dad and the fight with Wayne's partner but don't kiss. Maybe Michael would think twice about getting involved with a friend of Bonnie's.

Probability: 10%

Unnamed track bunnies - Michael says it wasn't easy ignoring all those trophy queens and their phone numbers, implying that he did indeed ignore them (maybe more because he had to get back to the office than out of disinterest).

Probability: 0%

s4e10 - Knight Behind Bars

Julie - He agrees with KITT that she's cute, but they don't really express romantic interest to each other beyond a hug after he tosses Nelson into the ocean. Also at 20 she's a little young for him.

Probability: 0%

Gymnastics instructor - She flirtatiously tells him she's free the rest of the day, but he isn't. No indication that they see each other again.

Probability: 0%

s4e11 - Knight Song

Bonnie and/or RC - They're all playing hookie together and conspiring to keep it from Devon. Shenanigans?

Probability: 5%

Sanford - No indication of romantic interest, also she's a villain.

Probability: 0%

s4e12 - The Scent of Roses

K: I'm sorry, they don't allow cars in hospitals. I would have been closer. M: I know you would.

Stevie - They appear to have been staying at the beach house together so it's a safe bet, even if (spoiler alert) they never got to consummate their marriage.

Probability: 95%

s4e13 - Killer KITT

"Not now, Michael. I have a headache."

Bronwen - She and Michael barely interact, plus she's probably Berio's girlfriend.

Probability: 0%

s4e14 - Out of the Woods

Sam - He's flirtatious when they first get reacquainted but too busy working on the case for anything to happen before it's revealed that (spoiler alert) she's a villain. He does hug her when she surrenders at the end but I assume that trying to murder him is a dealbreaker.

Probability: 0%

Ellen - No real evidence of romantic interest and she says goodbye with a handshake rather than a kiss.

Probability: 0%

s4e15 - Deadly Knightshade

Bonnie - She's more preoccupied with Templeton. He does give her a swan in his magic act at the end.

Probability: 0%

Nancy - He's too busy with the investigation to even do much flirting.

Probability: 0%

s4e16 - Redemption of a Champion

Miss Cooper - Michael obviously has a hot date that most likely would have ended with some lovin' if he hadn't once again been cockblocked by KITT and Devon. At the end, Michael is dressed up for Date Night, Take 2, but gets called back to the semi again. Does she give him a third chance? I mean, *I* would...

Probability: 50%

Nurse Tremount - He flirts with her to get info and comforts her after she breaks down and confesses to the scam but no indication that it goes further than that. Plus she’s in an adulterous relationship with the villainous doctor.

Probability: 0%

s4e17 - Knight of A Thousand Devils

Claudia Terrell - She's a villain. When she makes a pseudo-date with him it's just to set him up.

Probability: 0%

Agent Jonas - They bet dinner on the arrest and Michael seems to be taking his death extremely personally. Juggernaut slash ships have been built on less. If he were a chick I'd say "extremely probable" except for the fact that Jonas was married with kids. Not that it stops some people, but it would most likely stop Michael.

Probability: 0%

"Ana-Lucia" - She keeps him up all night working on her car and he says he's going to come back after the race is over and demand equal time. Her response: "You won't have to demand." Plot twist: She's actually a Federale. We don't see her again after they apprehend the bad guy so it's questionable whether their flirtation was still valid for her real identity.

Probability: 10%

s4e18 - Hills of Fire

Sandra Rusk - Barely any interaction and also she's a villain.

Probability: 0%

Tess Hubbard: No significant romantic interaction. Probably too busy with her charitable work to go chasing after pretty-boys.

Probability: 0%

s4e19 - Knight Flight to Freedom

Lisa - Too busy dealing with a revolution for any shenanigans.

Probability: 0%

s4e20 - Fright Night

Karen - They keep things mostly professional but she buys him lunch at the end. No real indicator that it ends in anything romantic, though.

Probability: 5%

Liz - They flirt a little when he interviews her ("I appreciate your interest." "I'm interested!") but it doesn't really go anywhere.

Probability: 5%

s4e21 - Knight of the Rising Sun

N/A - No female guest characters and nothing particularly shippy with Bonnie.

Probability: 0%

s4e22 - Voo Doo Knight

Harana - She's a little flirtatious at the party. When she puts one of her zombifying earrings on him, she gets a little touchy-feely and tells him they could have had a future together but there are two of her goons in the room and she's sending him to the soon-to-be-demolished building so she probably doesn't have time to take advantage of him even if she wanted to do it with an audience.

Probability: 0%

Elizabeth - Michael nudges Devon into letting her stay an extra few days, and she seems pretty good with that. We don't see them kiss but they're engaged in a pretty intense hug at the end.

Probability: 90%

...at least he got to go out with a bang?

[themadauthorshatter]

Toppat!Charles Part 13(Final)

This is it. The big 13.

What a ride.

I'm not holding back on this.

Dramatic recap: Triple Threat has spent time reunited, though Charles has some trouble relaxing before their mission. Speaking of which, all goes well at firs, but Charles is recaptured by Right and Ellie is found by Toppats and Reginald, leaving Henry alone in the vents.

To catch up before this finale, here are all the previous parts:

Part 1

Part 2

Part 2 Deleted/Extended Scene

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8 Preview

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

Part 11

Part 12

I just really want to say thank you all for enjoying this series since it started. It means a lot to me. I never knew how 'big' this would get and I'm honestly really glad you all liked this. And for putting up with my nonsense 😅😂

Anyway, onto the finale!!!

If this was a tv special, the camera would do a glidey thing from the side of a vent to an open path, which Henry crawls through.

He's hot, very uncomfortable, and really hopes that Charles gets back to him and Ellie.

It probably doesn't help that he can't hear Ellie anymore. At all.

Alone, Henry sighs as he is left to follow a humming sound that he KNOWS has to be the core.

He's ditched a lot of his space gear and tied his hoodue around his hips, but he presses on, because he's really starting to hate the Toppat Clan right now.

CUT TO CHARLES!!!

Charles panics as he tries to break free from his binds, in a cell very much like the one Henry was locked in in the Free Man Ending. He's in pure panic mode and only knows that Right is leaning against the wall and he needs to get the hell out.

Charles is trying as much as he can, kicking up, trying to throw off the balance, even trying to go for the remote, which is where Right intervenes, taking it just as Charles is about to kick it.

After a few more minutes of kicking and flailing, Charles lets out a very loud scream.

"Are you done, kid?"

Charles breaks down and stops his struggling, keeping his gaze on the floor as he asks, "Why are you doing this? You already have your friend back."

"You're the one who came back, not me. Let me guess: the government didn't want you back?"

Charles keeps his head down, even as Right stops leaning on the wall and approaches him.

"Why're you really here?"

With a rush of adrenaline, Charles kicks Right, smirking at the fact that he'd managed to send him into the wall.

Right scowls and punches him in the face.

"Don't get cocky, or I'll send out into space," Right snarls as he points to a button on the remote. He keeps his thumb on this button, making sure Charles doesn't get any ideas. "Tell me why you're here, kid. What're you up to?"

Charles gulps and opens his mouth to explain, but is cut off by either Burt or Sven or any other toppat clan member.

"Sir, we've found someone in the ventilation system. He's heading to the core, now."

Charles freezes and Right turns to him, a 'gotcha' smile growing on his face.

CUT TO HENRY!

Henry has found the core and climbs out of the vent, bomb in hand; it has enough power to cause critical damage to the core and should give him and Ellie enough time to get back to Charles, and give the toppats time to evacuate and return to Earth, where they'll be arrested.

He walks along a ramp and gets ready to toss the bomb onto the core, near the middle where a lot of the power is.

His aim is heavily disrupted when he hears footsteps racing toward him.

As toppats approach, Henry runs to the other side of the core, tapping Morse into his earpiece to alert Ellie and Charles that he's been spotted.

He stops dead in his tracks when he sees two toppats holding Ellie back by her arms as she struggles, a little bruised and beaten, and sees Right holding Charles, who has his hands bound behind his back, by his hair.

"'Ello. 'Ere for something?"

Henry, after a quick glance to both Ellie and Charles, lowers the bomb and quickly draws his gun.

Which is shot out of his hand by from behind Reginald, who gives him a dainty wave.

Henry sneers at him before turning to Right.

"Seem familiar to you, 'Enry? One friend injured by toppats and the otjerneeding you to rescue 'im?"

The memory itself is like salt on a wound. Almost a year ago, they'd been trying to stop the rocket feom getting into orbit.

Now they're trying to blow the station to high Heaven, high water, Hell and back again.

"Don't listen to him," Charles hisses out, but Right slams his head on the railing and holds him on the other side of the railing by his neck.

Henry panics and sets down the bomb, much to the objection of Ellie, and holds his hands up.

Right merely scoffs at this. "You're good at making history repeat itself."

Charles is conscious enough to see this and feels his stomach drop, as Henry is possibly breaking his promise.

That's until he sees Henry sort of making a slight scissor motion with his middle and index fingers as subtly as he can, Morsing the following messages to Charles and Ellie:

'Bite their wrists. Kick someone's ahin and they're useless for a few minutes.

'Kick him. Kick him. Kick him. Kick him. Kick him.'

With a deep breath, Henry quickly drops for his gun as Ellie sort of reverse axe kicks one the toppat guard's shins and bites the other, making both let go of her.

Henry shoots Reginald in the foot, which gets Right to instinctively take a step forward and pull Charles closer, which leads to him getting in a really good kick to Right's jaw before he falls onto the platform.

Ellie headbutts one guard and punches the other before running to the bomb.

Charles covers himself as Right kicks him before the cyborg charges to Henry, who shoots him in the shoulder and goes to do it again, but is tackled by Reginald.

There's a lot of kicking and punching, but Ellie eventually knocks out one guard, only to be slammed into the wall by her hair and thrown down.

Before he can get any other hits in, he is shot and falls to the platform, clutching between his neck and shoulder.

Ellie looks to see Charles holdimg Henry's gun before he turns it on Henry, Reginald, and Right, using a couple shots to scare away Reginald.

Right, mad as all hell, beats the ever loving heebie jeebies out of Henry, smashing him into the platforming and daring, "You think you're some kind of hero, kid? You think just by taking us out, you're helping yourself!? All over some damned pilot and a rat you found!?"

Henry, very much offended and sick of all the salt, strikes Right with Reginald's gun, hitting the metal side of his head and even getting in an uppercut before Charles delivers a phenomenal kick that shatters Right's cybernetic eye.

Right falls back, knocked out cold from the hit.

Charles holds a hand out for Henry, who takes it with a clap and lets himself get picked up by Charles, though he does help.

"Good shot," Charles sighs. "And... thanks."

Henry hugs him, and Charles tenses before hugging back, crying as relief floods him. Relief that his friend actually kept his promise, which he totally knew he'd do, 100% without a doubt.

"Um, guys?" Ellie asks. "Shouldn't we...?"

Henry pats Charles and the two pull away, ready to blow this pop stand.

Without the detonator, they'll have to do this the risky-but-badass-if-this-works way.

Ellie throws the bomb onto the core and both Henry and Charles shoot it, making the bomb go off.

It knocks all three of them down, but don't worry they all come to.

They decide to take Right and Reginald, who got knocked out by the blast, and race to the escape pods, with guidance from Charles.

Henry fights a flashback of Valiant Hero before realizing Charles isn't leading them to the normal escape pods.

"You guys might not believe this, but this isn't just the room for the clan leader," Charles admits ehen they get to what used to be his room, which became Reginald's for a short time.

They load in and lock Right and Reginald in handcuffs, but Charles decides to pull one more card out of his sleeve: an 'override' feature that guides the escape pods to a certain location.

"Where dhould they go? The base or...?"

Henry and Ellie trade glances before Henry smirks and nods.

"The Wall," Ellie replies.

"You sure?"

'They gave us enough trouble, and they'll keep Dmitri off my back,' Henry signs as quickly as he can.

Charles sets the location and they leave just as the orbital station explodes.

All three take a sigh of relief, especially Charles.

"It's... It's over. We did it."

Ellie nods and puts a hand on his shoulder as Henry holds his hand on his other side and gives him a smile.

'It's all over.'

Charles rests his head on Henry's shoulder as Ellie moves to hold his hand as well, and lean on him as he lets himself cry.

CUT TO EARTH!!!!!

Galeforce paces back and forth at the base, waiting to hear a word from Henry, Ellie, and Charles.

Rupert has informed him that they have lost contact with the destroyer, which has been destroyed with the Toppat station.

Escape pods have been landing in The Wall, but there hasn't been a single report on Triple Threat.

Terrence sits in a chair with one leg folded over and doing that foot shake thing, because he's stressed.

Bill Bullet is also waiting, though he's keeping his eyes on the ground, and he's not talking about anything because Galeforce will kill him.

All three jump when they hear the sound of some sort of space craft landing near the base and rush to investigate with a lot of the soldiers.

They have to fight their way through as the door opens and Reginald and Right are thrown out.

Henry, Charles, and Ellie stumble out, their injuries having caught up to them, leaving them tired and needing some medical attention.

The soldiers are literally elated to see these three, even though Henry's shady, Ellie's also shady, and Charles is the youngest and best pilot. Some take Right and Reginald away to a cell before they're sent to The Wall, but the rest somewhat dogpile the trio, patting their backs, ruffling their hair, shaking their hands, and just celebrating the fact that they're all back on Earth and alright.

They make way for Galeforce, Terrence, and Bill, the corporal standing back as Terrence reunites with Henry and Ellie and Galeforce throws his arms around Charles.

After so much excitement, Charles passes out and is carried to the infirmary.

Through the crowd, Henry spots Bill, who gestures for him to follow, which he does.

Ellie sees this and also starts following, but Terrence stops her.

"Let's leave them be. Corporal kept saying he needed to talk to him alone."

Henry and Bill walk until they're a really good distance away and just stand in a clearing, watching the now clear sky that is missing the orbital station.

"Looks kinda empty without it, doesn't it?" Bill asks.

Henry shrugs, but nods all the same. 'When do I leave?' he signs instead.

Bill fights an eye roll and he pockets his sunglasses. "You know, I've seen a lot of crminals, but never ones that were selfish enough to do the right thing. Hell, I think I know a couple that would take over that orbital station instead of destroy it for someone they care about."

'They had it coming, after what happened.'

"If you say so." Bill passes the chaos readings to Henry, who reads them over as much as he can because he doesn't get a lot of it.

"You'd be surprised how much numbers matter. They go up when you're on your own, but they go down when you're surrounded by people to keep you in check, whether you know it or not. Call it whatever you want, strange, lucky, interesting."

Henry takes one more look at the readings before turning back to Bill, a smile growing on his face. 'You changed your mind?'

"As much of a good study you'd really be, yes, I have," Bill sighs. "Just do me a favor and don't make a habit of losing your friends, okay?"

Henry nods and returns the readings as he sprints bak to the base, almost running into Ellie.

"What'd he say?"

Henry smiles her and the message is clear:

He's not going anywhere.

The two hug and highfive, though they stop because they're sore and still a little injured.

They walk to the infirmary and are put in beds next to Charles, who's resting a little easier than they've seen him in a while.

"Fine work you three," Galeforce says as he joins them. "Just about every member of the Toppat Clan was sent to The Wall." He notices Charles stirring a little before resting again and gives a small smlie. "You three rest up now. You've earned it."

Galeforce leaves and both lie down, Charles opening his eyes and staring up at the ceiling.

"They're... really gone. We did it."

Neither speak as he continues.

"In my cell and when they made me the leader, I used to imagine destroying it myself. Just shooting it as much as I could before it all went up into smoke. I never thought we'd actually do it. I can't believe we did it."

From where they all lay, the three hold hands and fall asleep, the endeavor of the past year slipping away.

Henry in particular lets out a sigh as he drifts off, glad that all three of his friends are back and safe.

Outside the base, Terrence leans against the hood of a car and watches the sunset, and Reginald and a one armed Right be loaded into a van headed toward The Wall.

The two toppat leaders are not looking forward to their incarceration, but Reginald holds Right's human hand, which seems to at least simmer his temper a little bit.

"They make a cute couple, don't you think?"

"I'd say," Bill sighs as he types on a laptop on the ground; just an email to his workers and to Dmitri. "I'd be surprised if I heard there was a Wall wedding for the two of them."

"A wedding? WITHOUT me? And you call my son a criminal," Terrence gasps as he holds a hand on his chest.

Bill snickers and finishes up those emails. "Come on. We need to head back."

Terrence rolls his eye as Bill sets his laptop in the backseat.

"Do I have to stay in that same room all the time? Or can I have Henry's?"

Bill scowls at him.

"I like the idea of having a window, watching some sitcoms, and just keeping up a good appearance, sue me."

"Depends on how well we get along on the ride back."

Terrence watches Bill get in his seat and start the car and takes one last look at the base before he climbs into the passenger seat. "Hope you like country."

"Don't touch my damn car, Suave."

Terrence laughs as Bill fights a smirk, driving back to the CCC headquarters and leaving Triple Threat to rest and heal for future shenanigans and missions for the government.

[worldcakecakecake]

Feliciano and the King of Hearts

Chosen by the gods as the Queen of Hearts from the moment of birth,  we follow Feliciano’s story as he grows into royal life, learns to rule,  go against age old customs, and his relationship with his husband to  be, the King of Hearts.

Chapter 1 I  Chapter 2 I Chapter 3 I Chapter 4 I Chapter 5 I Chapter 6I Chapter 7 I Chapter 8 IChapter 9I Chapter 10I Chapter 11I Chapter 12 I Chapter 13 I Chapter 14 I Chapter 15 I Chapter 16 I Chapter 17 I Chapter 18 I Chapter 19I Chapter 20 I Chapter 21 I Chapter 22 I Chapter 23 I Chapter 24 I Chapter 25 I Chapter 26 I Chapter 27 I Chapter 28I Chapter 29 I Chapter 30 I Chapter 31 I Chapter 32 I Chapter 33 I Chapter 34 I Chapter 35 I Chapter 36 I Chapter 37I chapter 38 I Chapter 39 I Chapter 40 I Chapter 41 I Chapter 42 I Chapter 43 I Chapter 44 I Chapter 45 I Chapter 46I Chapter 47 I Chapter 48 I Chapter 49 I Chapter 50 I Chapter 51 I Chapter 52 I Chapter 53 I Chapter 54 I Chapter 55 I Chapter 56 I Chapter 57 I Chapter 58 I Chapter 59 I Chapter 60I Chapter 61 I Chapter 62 I Chapter 63 I Chapter 64  I Chapter 65 I Chapter 66 I Chapter 67 I Chapter 68  I Chapter 69 I Chapter 70 I Chapter 71 I Chapter 72 I Chapter 73 I Chapter 74 I Chapter 75 I Chapter 76 I Chapter 77 I Chapter 78

                                                  Chapter 79

“Now!” Arthur shouted.

 Renata quickly ceased the glow in her hand, gone like the flicker of a candle.

 “Now somebody go get-” Louis was interrupted by a sudden blast, white and rampaging across the room. They quickly thought it an attack from Destro that had managed straight at their location, but they didn’t hurt…the light became one of warmth, of familiarity. They actually heard Augustino laughing. The light was gone swiftly, everyone began to stand from their fall, just in time to see Feliciano arise, taking a large deep breath, to then cough as he held to the stairs of the pool. The first one to come to his side was Kiku, one hand to help him stand on the dry stone of the room, the other comforting on his back. They all rushed to circle him, but Kiku held a hand to give Feliciano some decency of space, to breathe back in actual living oxygen into his physical body…alive again after a month.

 In all honesty…Feliciano looked horrible. He was hunched as he leaned to breathe again, wet, dripping water to the ground, his clothes haggard and his body was only slowly recovering back its color. He still leaned on Kiku, who still offered to give him support.

 This was not how they expected him to return. If he was like this…it only meant… “You…couldn’t get it…couldn’t you?” Roderich guessed, deflated, all joining in this accept of what was soon to be a world ending failure. They believed it more so when Feliciano hanged his head lower, refusing to look at them.

 They sighed, some began to tear and whimper, given up, kneeling to the floor ready to have everything destroyed before them. But whatever wallowing that wanted to continue, was broken with a sudden red glow, cracking and even drawing upon Feliciano’s fallen hand. Feliciano chuckled, beginning to stand, carefully moving Kiku to the side. All water on him left, dried, looking pristine even if he was bare footed and still wore a simple blouse and pants. His hair and skin shone brighter, with deeper colors and from him came this stronghold of magic, decorating the room in a sense that alighted them, shone them forward to be coated in this new air.

 “I got more than just the alignment,” he assured as he opened and showed them his eyes covered completely in magic, bright, powerful, but yet still they held the childish wonder of Feliciano, assuring them it was deeply him. “Much…much more.” He opened his hands to let his arms begin to get decorated in shines of gold and red, letting the room tremble and grow with a garden of magic, of sparks and lights that fascinated all to a stupor. He let it all stop with a simple sway of his hands lowering, his eyes closing to then alight again with his usual amber. Before all could word and celebrate, smiling and shinning deeply with hope, another crash came into the room from a messenger, tired, huffing and ready to fall to the ground.

 “Destro is in the midst of the city! He’s approaching the castle and we are not enough to hold him! You must come and help us!”

 “Perfect! We have Feliciano with us and he holds the alignment,” Yao announced, as all brandished their weapons and magic again. Only but Feliciano startled and questioned as his gaze was frantic.

 “We’ll help him however necessary. We will attack this instant and make sure Destro is dead by the-"

 “Wait! Wait! Wait!” Feliciano interrupted his father, standing before all as a blockade.

 “Feliciano, we have to act now!” Lovino shouted.

 “I know, I know! Just please…don’t kill him…”

 They all widened and stood perplexed, for not just the words but the feel in his tone.

 “What do you mean not kill him? He has helped destroy a large part of Clubs and is the culprit for having the entire southern Hearts kingdom obliterated. If he comes any closer he’ll have us all killed instead!” Aldrich shouted.

 Even if all the energy currently rested inside him, Feliciano hurt, holding back tears as he shook and tried to control them to stay inside. “Let me deal with this! You can help me all you want when we have to defeat Khaos…but leave Destro to me.” With the words he managed his calm and straightening, a stronghold that actually got the rest to fall and stand back, lessening the hold of their weapons and even the energy of their magic.

 Feliciano sighed, calm…then potence as he turned to the messenger still trying to calm his breaths. “Tell everyone to fall back…and to come straight to the castle. One brigade is commanded to keep a Titanium shine spell so Destro can attack until everyone is safely secured inside. Once done, I myself will place a protective shield to keep the castle safe. I assure you all no harm will come.”

 “And then you’re going to face Destro alone?” Lili was dreading.

 Another shook that caused pieces to fall in the room, a roar that made them all shutter.

 “Yes. I will.” Decreed strongly in his voice, one everyone knew they could not go against, having to nod and accept, if even shaking with worry. “I will only put up the shield once everyone is in…and you have to promise you will stay inside.” He turned with strength in his foots, one that made all bow to in reverence and accept. “Only then will I head out and face him.”

 “Your majesty…what are you doing now?” Elizabeta dared herself to ask.

 “I will watch and make sure that my commands are fulfilled…and I have to look for my harp.” And with a surprising calm he took to the halls to head to its storage.

  The call was done quickly. Feliciano saw from his heights as messengers spread and began to lead way back to the castle. Some rushed alone, others needed assistance because of their wounds, depending on the help of other soldiers to make way, but they made haste. Whoever was left in the city made approach to the castle, all behind a line of wizards that kept the Titanium Shine as the Queen had told. The spell was but a hallucination, a tall pillar of strong grey magic that feigned the energy of a living person, a perfect distraction for Destro, who attacked it as viciously as he had done everything, the ricochets deadly to the city, tearing and coating in smoke of destruction. Entire streets were there no longer, others blackened, Destro’s mere presence calling poison to reign even in the skies, tempting to rain with burn.

 This was the first time Feliciano’s eyes fell on Destro, the expanse of darkness, raging and swinging with its own arms and face, with runes of red and white, shaped with strengths that were actually wider than Khaos. He had yet to see Khaos in his alignment, but already Destro proved much more evil than the depictions he had seen long ago in the cave of artifacts.

 He gulped, he gripped harder the column of the harp he had now…trying to contain his fear…to see…

 The ground shook, awaking Feliciano from his thoughts, to realizing that the wizards and the last of the soldiers were entering the front gardens of the castle. It was his time to leave…to face…to begin and end this all. He actually…believed. He had confidence, one that made him stand prideful, with a deep breath that was only for the beginning of a melody.

 “I’ll journey and see beyond the lines of our kingdom,

Never a fear to be lost, never a fear to fall,

In pleasure, I will take the mysteries of what I could meet,

If you accept to be mine, my Queen.”

 He sung it underneath his breath, tranquil and peaceful despite this disarray.

 In the eternal reserve, there was indeed much more than just the alignment, more than just power and magic. There was information, knowledge and instructions about everything, even notes of power left behind. One of those messages was the ability to actually change the harp. No…he would not dare change the design, structure and color Augusta had placed, for it was sufficiently beautiful. All he needed was to change its size, something small he could carry in his palm, to easily begin his descend down the castle, like a singular entity that existed out of everything, merely trying to make a passing.

 “No heat, no cold, will stop me of my search,

No sun, no rain to go against my strength,

Just promise me your hand,

And love me in our eternity.”

 This music he tried to make his own sound, away from the shouts, the hurry of everyone trying to make their place in the castle for the shield.

 “My sun, my moon, my land, my love,

I know it’s a journey you will overcome,

But I don’t need you to go so far,

I want you here to kiss me.”

 He entered the place of action, of all running and creating a panic that Feliciano felt suspended in as he made his way across. He paid no mind to them, he left them to their disorder. No one really came into silence until they noticed him…easy, like he was just strolling through the castle trying to find a pleasant breeze.

 “Would you want all the gold I will find for you?

Would you like the songs I will bring from afar for you?

Would you accept me as your shield?

And would you want me always by your side?”

 He sang on, making that image more the one that all thought Feliciano was really going through. They all stood as they witnessed him, letting a rare peace fall on these halls.

 “What is he doing?” One soldier asked.

 “Isn’t he supposed to be facing Destro?”

 “They said he was going to do it alone!”

 “But he’s just singing!”

 The whispers continued.

 “I don’t want any of the riches you will bring,

I don’t care for any of the songs,

I only want you to hold,

I only want your arms around me.”

 The voices would always fall, beginning to just accept…and trust whatever it was that the Heartian Queen will do.

 It was his own silent parade down the rest of the halls, down every stair he needed to take, reaching ground, the main door of the castle now appearing before him. The commotion was the strongest here, filled, with people in shouted pain and tears, healers coming to act quick, screams and hurry to head in from the royals at the front.

 “Bring me your love, your kisses, your loyalty,

Your passion, your hope, your defeat,

Your promise, your weakness, your strength,

I will keep it all in my heart.”

 “The casters are almost here!” Kandake shouted, shock panic in her expression.

 “And where in the hell is Feliciano?” Vash shouted, just as he was met with a surprising silence, noticing how all gazed back to the very figure he questioned, making his way singularly down the hall.

 “Let the doors open wider…let the last of them come in,” Lili reminded, strong and pushing so all could fulfill despite this rare glow Feliciano shone in, distracting and even beautiful.

 “I’ll journey and see beyond the lines of our kingdom,

Never a fear to be lost, never a fear to fall,

In pleasure, I will take the mysteries of what I could meet,

If you accept to be mine, my King.”

 Nobody dared question the song…they just gave the necessary space for Feliciano to take, in that moment handing everything to him. He now had their lives and future, hanging in his hands and power.

 The last of the soldiers made entrance to the castle, the casters were now right before them, still holding to the spell, turning to the royals awaiting the next command.

 “Stop the enchantment. Head inside. I’ll deal with him.”

 They nodded, albeit fearful still as they turned their hands to release the hold. They rushed inside, leaving the pillar as it was, able to withstand a couple of more whiplashes from the remaining energy.

 There was still some time.

 While all shook at the image of Destro so near the castle, Feliciano stood stable, unaffected and with a calm some were envious the Queen could keep. The royals kept a guard around him, watching and waiting for any action. Only Pookie broke this as he took landing on Feliciano’s shoulder as usual, cuddling and comforting no matter the turmoil. It was almost like the monster before them wasn’t there at all.

 “If you are waiting for me to change my mind, I am not.”

 “To be honest, do whatever you want…just get rid of that thing,” Arthur admitted, his fear shown in the slight shake in his tone, as well as the fierceness he gave that made this a command.

 Vincenzo glared, but it eased as he placed a hand on his son’s shoulder, “we’ll be here, ready to serve you for anything. Defeat this menace…but stay safe.”

 Feliciano smiled, the enchanting one that spread and made them all shine on this eve of darkness. “As I’ve said before…stay in the castle. Leave everything to me.” And with that he took a step out of the threshold, beginning his way, the others not daring to close the door, for it was their watch to the spectacle they knew would mark them all forever. Many others took watch from any of the windows, frozen and expecting.

 In that chest of power, not only had Feliciano found information, but he found the forgotten lyrics to a song Augusta had long ago created, a hymn to the misery of losing her beloved.

 “My sun, my moon, my land, my love…” he had begun to sing again. It was louder this time, echoing to the point that all in the castle could hear it…they even wondered if it spread to the whole city, since Destro suddenly stopped, a widened expression in his eyes that was eerily human.

 “The sky has all fallen…” he continued, but he didn’t go on without a sudden deep breath, alighting in beautiful marks, ruby red. Once all that energy he needed was gathered, as he released his breath, large red lights began to grow from different corners of the city. He didn’t have to twirl his hand or utter some incantation…he walked on down the main courtyard, a simple thought in charge of letting these lights glow the streets they were located on, rushing forward until they reached the center of the castle. From the base it created at its edges, a net like structure began to grow, beginning a covering sphere of the castle, slow as Feliciano was still kept at its circulated area.

 “The kingdom weeps their king’s farewell…” he managed to sing on as he found himself ever reaching the official gates, only a matter of steps now.

 “And a queen breaks at her lover’s parting again…”

 To his surprise…Destro remained awfully still…as if he was enjoying from the song…perhaps trying to find its location…or trying to find his target.

 “But in your defend, all will join and fight for our future…”

 The shield continued its upward current, to the amazement of all who stayed inside the castle, distracted in its form enough that they didn’t see as Feliciano finally placed a foot outside of the perimeters. With his exit, the shield met at the top and finished. The castle was now well protected…nothing would be capable of destroying it…and even at the worst it will still stand. Feliciano could now keep his focus on only Destro.

 “…so the heavens will bless in your rest our perfect peace,” he finished the song, elongating an indeed rare silence in the city. To the surprise of those back in the castle, Destro didn’t lunge forward and Feliciano didn’t attack…they were easy in this stillness. They both continue to breathe out, nervous, like two strangers worried over their first meeting.

 Somehow…even for this, Feliciano had a song, new and his…with thoughts for Ludwig and a willingness to do anything…absolutely anything for him.

 “My sun, my moon, my land, my love…” he then began a slow reach, a walk forward, brave and with a shining happiness from his expression to his steps, eager, each new approach lighting the more, extinguishing more the fear.

 “My king who shines above all,” he smiled, such joy that already teared at his eyes.

 Destro continued this stillness, awed and wondered, frozen yet in his spot.

 “Darkened, lost and taken…” and Feliciano finally took that weakness to use, beginning a spell that lighted up the entire city, glowing in gold as he used it for an intense heat, one that surely burnt and brought Destro back to screeching and sending swings, destroying streets and buildings…and yet Feliciano stood in  their fault, smiling and unaware.

 “I know your heart is stronger.”

 Now the song was an add to this poison. Destro wanted rid of it, so he trampled forward meaning to fulfill his kill as intended.

 Raging, monstrous, Feliciano still looking so diminutive in his shadow, and yet the Queen continued to smile and only move forward, in a want to meet him.

 Many in the castle had to shield their eyes, some began to weep and others shook as if Destro’s was above them ready for taking. It could very well happen if he just swallowed Feliciano…which seemed would be very likely the case.

 “Your light is brighter…” And Feliciano dared halt, much to the anguish of the castle, slowly, painfully slow, raising a hand…not the one that had the harp. From there, he gathered light…warming and loving…comfortable and even…happy. Despite how diminutive it was, right in the middle of this darkening blaze, looking like it could easily drown between all…Destro stood just as Feliciano, both not daring any harm to the other.

 “You are ruler, you are king…” and they saw then that the song was dedication…dedication to Destro. The gaze their eyes shared was of childhood friends…turned to lovers…to then the King and Queen of Hearts. Destro let himself sit, the viciousness of his killing hands, turning gentle, forming fingers…familiar fingers that reached only for a simple touch. There was no fire, no magic, when Feliciano reached for its touch, he didn’t hurt, in fact, his smile was only larger, letting his hand caress the large hand of darkness like any regular skin. He embraced it, he even cradled it, letting himself lay on it, already feeling him entirely. He gazed up, with hint of tears from the peak of this happiness, to those large eyes that now more than ever reflected his beloved.

 “I know it’s you…Ludwig…” he couldn’t keep the last words in the tune of the song, for it was more important that he knew he was there, more important that they had this reunion, a reminder that at the worst…they would triumph.

 Destro…Ludwig…accepted this welcome, letting himself lean in blissful rest and comfort, careful as he lay right over the tiny figure of his husband. How he could, Feliciano raised his arms and embraced him, even as his face was formed this monstrous, loyal in giving him his ever devoting love, caressing and mending and how he wished he could kiss him. It was difficult, but…he tried, his lips reaching to any corner of a mouth he could reach, and with it, he began the full intent of his spell, one that went on its own course as he instead focus on feeling the powerful emotion of having his husband's lips again.

 “Is he…is he kissing that thing?” Vash couldn’t help but mention. The rest were too dumbfounded to response, only watching as the city began to glow more in the scene of this kiss.

 Despite how it was all gold, it seemed like color was brought back to the city, enveloping everything, slowly tearing apart every inch of darkness from this evil vessel. No more storms, no more poison, instead there was healing, coating everything in flowers, in new jewels to the buildings, in a brightening that made the damaged parts of the city new again. Destro turned smaller, smaller, every part of him slashed to nothing, disintegrating instead in shine and stars that made this grey day shinning with the colors of a beautiful morning. Piece by piece this vicious monster began to be chipped away until only this body remained…a human body. The golden light it was developed in was too much to really notice any features, but there was no hesitation in the way Feliciano desperately held to it, letting it rest on him, coming to kneel down until it could lay on his lap comfortably.

 Knowing it was safe, the shield on the castle fell, in a blink, and in that instant the castle doors slammed open with the insistence of the royals. Feliciano didn’t care for this commotion, he simply let his hands trail on the figure’s hair, their blond strands coming back, their silk and softness, the hardened head, the strong jaw, nose and cheeks. His skin turned its rightful pale, his body as perfectly as Feliciano always considered it, left with only tattered remains of surely the last armor he had fought with. The brightness began to dwindle, leaving a wondrous heat in the city that made them swear a melody continued to sing. With the last twinkling of gold gone, there was a sudden grasp of air, of steady breathing…along with a heartbeat.

 Ludwig remained in this rest, letting his body slowly get used to skin, to breathing in and out his control, testing with sudden grips and shakes that indeed…he was his own again. He baptized that aware with a fluttering of his eyes, that beautiful blue that the very sky seemed to have granted him. He saw a shining day, he felt the warmth of great summers and then he saw…his own angel, his sun, his love and queen and already he smiled. It caused a slight pang…but it didn’t matter…it was just the right reminder he was back…this was real…Feliciano was there.

 “Ludwig?” Feliciano still questioned it, still wondering if this was the plethora of all dreams and he was still stuck in one of the realms.

 Ludwig groaned and still found it hard to move for now…but it would pass, he would heal…and he will live. This time he could show a grin that reflected the light of this new sun on him, making it more real for Feliciano, who began to tighten the hold he kept on his body, whose eyes began to water, but even so his own grin wanted to keep expanding.

 “Feliciano…” he managed to speak, rusted and sore, “…do you…remember that spell I used to do as a kid after my power activation…the one I had to do-” “-two for each afternoon hour,” they repeated together in a perfect sync that made them chuckle.

 “And do you remember…how it was you that always convinced me to do it when I complained about it…and you always…tried to heal or calm whenever I got burnt afterwards…”

 “Yes…yes, yes I remember that dearly.” Tears fell, but even with this shake, Feliciano went on smiling.

 “I feel like…something just like that happened now…I couldn’t…control my power…I couldn’t…I couldn’t….” Ludwig found it hard to speak when he was shaking with the same tears that took him, the emotion piling. “-do anything…I left myself turn into a monster and destroy everything I hold dear, but you …you brought me back…you stopped this…you saved me…”

 “Oh, but Ludwig, despite all this darkness, you managed to see me between and let the spell heal…you let yourself be freed. It wasn’t me alone. Oh, how I missed you and how I love you, I love you dearly and I just…I just had to save you. These last few weeks…without you were awful. I was so lost…everything was darker and hopeless…I was so ready to give up and join you wherever you were but…there’s a world looking up to us, there are tons of other millions we have to save and…” he raised his arms to the jewels were their children lay. Ludwig managed slight reaches to be able to caress them, smiling, the joy letting him raise from his lay a slight more. “…we have our own kids to show the very world we live in.”  The jewels had gotten brighter, new red vines began to grow around Feliciano’s wrists and Ludwig was sure to touch every line, proving to his children that he was there…that he will be there. Their gazes met and they knew for sure all was real, their touch was theirs, their breath running and every fiber of magic in them was glowing now for their return. It exploded as they reached forward for their kiss, deepening and passionate, letting themselves in that fuel, letting whatever tears come down and fall for once in comfort and trust in the new flourished land below them. They settled between on one another in whimpers, in a hold all around them that was tight and placed, nothing, nothing…not even the approach of all, shouting, crying and celebrating was enough to depart them.

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There’s so much that went wrong while writing this. To me, this chapter should have meant more, but in the end…I don’t know…it doesn’t feel like I wanted it to. I tried what I could of fixing it but after noticing I haven’t gotten any comments or words for this story in months…yes including the last amount of chapters…I should just…no care about this as most people do. So many times the last few weeks I’ve thought about stopping…but, NEWS, there’s only about three chapters left to finish the story, and after five years with this…I think I should give it the chance to at least let it be done. I told myself many times, I created this adventure for myself and anyone else who reads is just welcomed to come along on the ride. I really don’t like coming here all guilt trippy like this, but just…been through a lot the last few weeks, thinking a lot about usage of time…and sometimes I wondered why continue with a story that I only care about, wasting time? But then, exactly, I care about it, I adore it, I don’t need the lack of interest of strangers. It is great, I love it, and it is taking swell time. For those who have stuck and the very few who are the pushes that keep me going with this hideous mammoth. Thank you, and thus, I bring you a chapter in what I could of messy holiday shenanigans.

 As I said, savor it…only three more to go.

 Also, was this part really like the one in Moana? Yes, I know. I had this idea long before the movie came out, but sadly I was slower. The movie did give me the idea to add a song though~

[ollieofthebeholder]

leaves too high to touch (roots too strong to fall): a TMA fanfic

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Chapter 20: Jon Prime

Jon had been worried, before they had come back in time, about how well he would adjust to being in the past, pre-Apocalypse. He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to handle the lessened level of terror, or the need to eat and sleep completely again, or being, essentially, less than he’d been, or for that matter the urge to storm the Institute and throttle Jonah Magnus in his office. He’d fretted about a lot of things.

As it turned out, none of them were things he needed to fret about.

His body reacclimated to human needs quickly enough, and it actually felt kind of good to feel the rumble of hunger or the drag of exhaustion again. It was definitely good to get back to cooking, which he’d sorely missed doing even if it felt odd to be cooking for more than himself and Martin. Martin had been right about his statement fueling Jon for a while, and his younger counterpart had taken to bringing home any real statements he came across; it was enough. And with Martin there, he didn’t feel less.

As for storming the Institute, that urge had been surprisingly easy to resist. Tim had managed to convince them to stay at his house longer by asking them to keep an eye on Past Martin while he healed. His excuse had been that Jon knew what Past Martin was going through and Martin knew what his past self was like, so they could keep him from doing anything stupid. Jon guessed there was more to it than that, but he didn’t want to pry into anyone’s minds, so he just let it go and agreed. It seemed simpler.

Martin had adapted well, too. Granted, he’d still been human—as far as Jon knew—before they came back, and he’d had two weeks to adjust to being blind before they were reunited, but he’d picked up on the cane Tim bought him fairly quickly. He didn’t seem to need it around the house, though, and when Jon questioned him about that, Martin said that he had a pretty good sense of direction when the world makes sense, Jon. And, honestly, Jon couldn’t argue with that. Tim spent a Sunday afternoon reorganizing his cupboards, then showed Martin where everything was so he could feel more independent in the kitchen while Jon watched from the doorway with a grin.

Past Martin got stronger by the day. At first, he mostly slept, which was fine with Jon, since it meant he could spend time with Martin and not feel guilty. He’d accidentally fallen asleep with his head on Martin’s lap one afternoon and woken to soft laughter, which is how he found out that Past Martin and Past Jon had apparently discussed things and Sasha was the only member of what Tim insisted on referring to as Team Archives who didn’t know they were together. After that, they’d dropped the pretense and just been themselves. It had been a huge relief to Jon. It had also been a relief—and a surprise—that Tim didn’t tease them mercilessly, but when he mentioned that to Martin, Martin just laughed and shook his head.

They’d all fallen into an easy domesticity. It was honestly the most surreal thing Jon had experienced in probably his entire life. Sasha and Past Jon were still staying with Tim—Jon had no idea what argument Tim had used on them, but it seemed to be working—and Jon delighted in watching the three of them, together with Past Martin, draw closer together into a cohesive unit that would be harder for Jonah to manipulate. Often, he would come out of the spare room from recording a statement, tape recorder in hand, to find them sharing stories or playing games and laughing. Some nights he joined in on the games, too, but mostly he just sat back with Martin and watched, grinning.

There were arguments. Of course there were arguments. They were all human beings with their own personalities and quirks. Nothing was going to be perfect harmony. Thankfully, they were usually made up fairly quickly. It felt like home, in a way, something Jon hadn’t experienced in he didn’t know how long. He knew it couldn’t last, but he was determined to enjoy it while he could.

Several weeks passed like that. Jon could see the signs that Past Martin was getting restless and impatient to be back at work—he listened hungrily to the team’s tales of what they’d been up to, ventured tentative suggestions on avenues of research or possible connections they might have missed—but he was, ultimately, a far better patient than Jon had been. Not that that was difficult.

As Past Martin’s recovery progressed, the three of them began taking walks in the afternoon, Jon letting the two Martins go ahead of him and following just behind. Partly it was that there really wasn’t room for them to walk three abreast, but mostly it was him giving them the opportunity to see what they were capable of on their own while he watched their backs, literally. At first they were slow circuits of a single block, and then Past Martin needed to sit down for quite a while, but within a couple of weeks he was walking easily and seemed almost back to normal. The scars healed better than they had for Jon, partly because Martin’s skin was fairer than Jon’s but mostly because Past Martin was better about both following doctor’s orders and not picking at the healing wounds. Tim’s had healed about the same, Jon remembered, a thought which still sent a lance of melancholy through him. And finally, the day came when he returned triumphantly from a check-up with the news that he’d been cleared to return to work that Monday.

“We’ll be glad to have you back,” Past Jon said sincerely, actually smiling in a way Jon couldn’t remember smiling until the too-brief time he and Martin had had in Scotland. “It’s all kind of…I won’t lie, it’s odd to sit around and keep working like nothing has changed. Like we don’t know what’s going on. But we’ve managed. There’s a lot more than can be easily done with three, though.”

“I’ll do whatever you need,” Past Martin promised. “God, it’ll feel good to get back into things.”

“Kind of surprised you didn’t try to get us to let you come back earlier, actually,” Tim teased him. “Don’t think none of us saw you chomping at the bit.”

Past Martin gestured to Jon and Martin. “They wouldn’t let me bring it up.”

“How long did you wait before going back?” Past Jon asked.

Jon grimaced. “A month. I should have stayed out longer, to be honest, and I ended up needing substantial physical therapy. But I was already obsessing over who killed Gertrude Robinson, and I didn’t handle being alone with my thoughts very well. Tim was out longer.”

“How long?” Tim asked curiously.

“Eight weeks, give or take.”

“So we can be away from the Institute? I thought you said…” Tim trailed off.

Jon paused, knife suspended over the cutting board. “I—I never thought of that. God, how did I not think of that? Our Tim seemed fine when he first came back, and he never said anything, but…”

“You can be away from the Institute, just not for good,” Martin said. “When you’re out…convalescing, that’s one thing. Even if you’re on an extended vacation, that should be okay. It’s if you try to leave, if you just up and walk away with the idea that you won’t be back, that you’ll have problems. As long as you really intend to come back at some point, it’s fine.”

Jon turned around and stared at Martin. “How long have you known that?”

“Since Elias told us we were trapped there?”

“My God, that was…” Jon rubbed his temple with his free hand. “Why didn’t you say anything? And please don’t say ‘it never really came up.’”

Martin actually smiled at that. “Honestly, Jon, I assumed you knew. I mean, you were away for ages, and I know Basira kept going off on…excursions. She might not have been gone long, but I just…I thought you’d figured it out. Especially when nothing really happened to us in Scotland.”

Jon hadn’t thought about that, either. But yes, at the time they had meant to go back to the Institute eventually, hadn’t they? Or maybe the Eye had let them go because it knew what Jonah was plotting. Either way, Martin was right, he really ought to have figured that out sooner.

He sighed, turning back to his meal prep. “I can, as we have established, be a bit oblivious at times.”

Sasha gave an overly-dramatic gasp. “You? Never.”

“Oh, shut up,” Past Jon grumbled.

Tim snickered. “Hey, does that mean you two have to come back to the Institute, too?”

“That’s…more complicated.” Jon scraped the contents of the cutting board into the pot. “I’m bound closely enough to the Eye that I’m not…dependent on the Institute, I don’t think? As long as I’m taking statements, feeding the Eye, I’m fine. I believe. And Martin is cut off from the Eye entirely. But it’s a rather moot point, as we intend to move into the tunnels beneath the Institute anyway.”

“You can’t seriously be planning to do that,” Tim protested. “Come on, they can’t be comfortable—”

“They aren’t. But that’s not the point, Tim.” Jon sighed and reached for the spices he’d selected. “We are putting you in very real danger by being here. Besides, we’re not in a position to assist like we would be if we were closer to the Institute. I don’t particularly like them, but it’s the best option for everyone.”

Tim reached past Jon to get plates out of the cupboard, his expression mulish. Jon braced himself for whatever arguments Tim might throw his way and resolutely shut his mind against prying for it, but before he could say anything, Past Martin came up and put a hand on Tim’s shoulder.

“You can’t fix everything, Tim,” he said quietly. “And I know that’s rich, coming from me, but…we have to trust them. It’s not like we won’t ever see them again if they’re not living under your roof.”

Tim’s shoulders slumped. Jon caught his eye and offered him a smile. “It’s certainly no reflection on you, Tim. It’s just…we need to do this. I desperately need you to trust us.”

“I can give you that.” Tim managed a smile in reply, then turned to set the table. “You’re not planning to move in tonight, though, right?”

Jon was about to answer, then froze as a rumble of thunder sounded from outside. It was low and gentle, but the sound sent a shudder of horror running down his spine that he couldn’t explain. He had to stand, perfectly still, until the sound stopped.

“No,” he said as soon as he felt able. “Not tonight.”

He went back to what he was doing, or tried to, but there was obviously a storm building, and the next peal of thunder brought his breath up short. The spoon slipped out of his hand and into the pot.

“Are you okay?” Sasha’s voice seemed to be coming from a long way away.

“Fine,” Jon lied automatically. Really, this was ridiculous. There was no reason for this. Thunderstorms had never bothered him before; why were they suddenly an issue now? He retrieved the spoon and returned to cooking.

The others shifted the discussion to the logistics of smuggling Jon and Martin into the Institute and the tunnels beneath them without being spotted. Since Martin was already explaining about the other entrances, Jon didn’t feel the need to jump in. They would still need to figure out which entrance to use, or find one in the first place, and how to get there surreptitiously, but at least there were options beyond “hope to avoid the cameras mounted around the Institute when sneaking into the Archives and subsequently into the tunnels”. That would be the fastest way to tip Jonah off that something was going on.

Another roll of thunder sounded from almost directly overhead—not a sharp crack, but a long, rumbling bass growl. Jon felt it to his core, and he gasped, leaning over to catch himself against the counter. Suddenly he was in the spare room in the cabin in Scotland, the words being torn from his throat against his will: I…OPEN…THE DOOR!

“Whoa!” someone shouted.

“Shit, that’s—how is he—” someone else stammered.

“Get his hand off the burner!”

“Jon! Jon, it’s okay, I’m here, I’m here.”

Something brushed against him, and he jerked away, but then a hand wrapped around his arm and tugged him away from the counter, and then someone was wrapping an arm around his shoulders and pulling him close. There was a confused babble of voices around him, but Jon couldn’t focus on it, couldn’t focus on anything but the thunder and the static filling his mind and the fact that for some reason his hand hurt, why did his hand hurt…

“Jon,” the voice said again in his ear, and it was Martin’s voice, he sounded upset, he sounded scared, and Jon couldn’t let him be scared but didn’t know how to fix it, so he looked up desperately and saw Martin’s face close to his. “Come on, let’s go in the other room, it’s okay. Come on, I’ve got you. It’s okay. It’s okay.”

Jon couldn’t speak, could barely breathe. He just let Martin lead him out of the room they were in and into another, keeping his eyes fixed on Martin the whole time, and then they were sitting on something and Martin pulled Jon into his arms, onto his lap, and wrapped him up securely. One hand came up to cup the back of his head, the other rubbed his back in slow, soothing circles.

“I’m here, Jon,” Martin murmured, his voice low and gentle despite crackling with emotion. “You’re here. We’re both here and we’re safe. We’re in London. The world isn’t ending, Jon. You didn’t end the world. It’s okay. It’s okay.”

How, the small part of Jon that wasn’t numb with terror thought, did Martin always seem to know the right thing to say? It was a ridiculous thought, of course; Martin didn’t always know the right thing to say, any more than Jon did, and they’d had more than a few arguments over one of them saying the wrong thing at the wrong time. But when it was a situation like this, when Jon panicked or got lost in his own head or was hurting, Martin always seemed to come up with the right words. Jon fisted his hands into Martin’s shirt and buried his face in his chest, focusing on the heartbeat that always soothed him when things got too bad. One of his hands, in a distant way, hurt, but he didn’t let go. He couldn’t.

Of course the world wasn’t ending. It couldn’t be. How could the world end with Martin there? That was just ridiculous. If the world ended, he’d be all alone.

“You’re not alone, Jon,” Martin said, and shit, had he said that out loud? “I’m here. I will always be here. I won’t ever leave you. I promise. I’m here. I’m here.”

“You’re here,” Jon whispered. The words felt raw in his throat, but it felt good to say them. He whispered them again and again, and Martin whispered them back to him. They passed the words back and forth, you’re here, I’m here, you’re here, and slowly, slowly, Jon felt the terror recede.

The storm didn’t lessen. If anything, it got worse, but oddly, that helped, too. The sharper the thunder got, the calmer Jon grew. A mighty thunderclap rattled the windows, and the power went out, making someone yelp from the other room, but Jon was able to take his first full breath. He slowly eased his grip on Martin’s shirt and sagged against him with a heavy sigh.

“Better?” Martin asked, rubbing his back.

“A little.” Jon tilted his head back and rested his chin on Martin’s chest, looking up at him. There was only the barest amount of light in the room, but it was enough to see the outline of his boyfriend’s face by. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” Martin pressed a light kiss to Jon’s forehead. “How’s your hand?”

“Hmm?” Jon became aware that his hand still hurt a lot. He eased it away from Martin and stared at it. It was red, almost raw, and he could see a couple of blisters on the palm that had miraculously remained intact, despite the grip he’d had on Martin’s shirt. “Oh. I—did I put it on the stove?”

“Apparently. Let me see.”

Jon managed a smile. He turned his hand over, palm up, and laid it in Martin’s. Martin hovered his thumb just over the top of Jon’s palm. “It’s still warm. Hold on, let me go find out what Tim’s got in that medicine cabinet of his.”

“Plenty,” a voice said from the doorway. Jon started, then relaxed when he realized it was his own voice, and that was still weird to hear. He looked up to see Past Jon coming in, a torch in one hand and a small handful of supplies in the other. “I was going to just leave it on the table for you, but…”

“Thank you,” Jon said sincerely. He didn’t leave the comfort of Martin’s embrace, though. The panic had left him a bit shaky and he wasn’t sure he could really sit up on his own, but more than that, he honestly didn’t give a damn if it made him look weak to lean on Martin. That was part of what love was, right?

Past Jon set the things in his hands on the table, then lined them up. “Cool compress, lotion, gauze, bandages. Paracetamol on the end if you need it for the pain. I—do you need a spare hand?”

“We’ve got it, but thank you,” Martin said. He picked up the compress, then pressed it gently to Jon’s hand. It was obvious he’d done this before, in some capacity.

Past Jon nodded and straightened, then hesitated before leaving the room. Awkwardly, he asked, “Can I…are you sure you’re okay? That looked a lot like, well, a panic attack.”

“It was,” Jon said softly. He hesitated, looking up into Martin’s eyes. Even though he knew Martin wasn’t really looking back at him per se, that he couldn’t actually see him, he could feel his attention, and they’d learned in the last few weeks that they knew each other well enough that they could still communicate wordlessly, to an extent. Turning back to his past self, he explained, “It was—the last thunderstorm I remember came up while I was reading…Jonah’s monologue.”

Past Jon flinched. “Ah. Well, I’ll, erm…I’ll leave you to that, then.” He gestured at the supplies and retreated back to the kitchen.

Jon and Martin sat in silence for a long moment. Martin kept applying pressure to the compress on Jon’s hand, his other hand securely supporting it, keeping it elevated. At last, Jon said, “I—I never asked if it was actually storming. That day. If it was…real thunder I heard or if it was just…the impending end of the world.”

“It was. I was on my way back. At first I thought I’d grab an umbrella, but then I thought…I thought I’d just stay downstairs until you finished your statement, then bring you a cup of tea or something. And then…” Martin trailed off and shook his head.

Jon bit his lip. “At least you made it back before…the Door Opened.”

“No, Jon,” Martin said softly. “I didn’t. I was still a good five minutes’ walk from the safe house when it happened.” He tried to laugh. “Ordinarily, anyway. I ran, as soon as I realized…I don’t know that I realized what exactly was going on, but I knew it was bad, and I knew that it was probably coming after you.”

“My God, Martin.” Horror ran through Jon’s body, and he reached out with his free hand to grip Martin’s shirt again.

“Hey, careful, I need room to work.”

“You were outside when—you c-could have been killed. God, I could have lost you and—”

“But you didn’t,” Martin reminded him. He leaned forward and rested his forehead against Jon’s for a moment. “I’m here, Jon. You’re here. We’re both here. We survived the end of the world. We made it. Together.”

Jon took a deep, steadying breath. “Maybe one day it won’t be so hard to remember that.”

“Well, I’ll always be here to remind you.” Martin straightened up and lifted the compress, then checked the heat of his palm and set the compress aside.

Jon glanced at the next item on the table and grimaced. “Of course the next step is lotion.”

“Do you want to do it yourself?” Martin asked. “You’ve got to keep things from drying out, but…I understand if someone else rubbing it in might be a bit much.”

At least that was something Jon had known he had an issue with before. Just not something he’d thought he would ever have to think about. He started to say yes, then shook his head, despite knowing Martin couldn’t see him. “No. No, will—will you do it? Please? I trust you.”

Martin’s face softened. They both knew what Jon was asking for. “Of course, Jon.”

He poured a little bit of the lotion into Jon’s hand. Jon tried hard not to flinch at the feel of it pooling into his cupped palm. Martin replaced the cap and set the bottle back on the table, nearly missing it, then took Jon’s hand and began gently massaging the lotion into it. Jon focused on Martin’s face and tried to regulate his breathing.

“Tell me something,” Martin requested abruptly.

Jon cocked his head, slightly off-balance. “What?”

“Anything. Your favorite play, your earliest childhood memory, your most embarrassing uni story. Anything.”

“O-oh, okay,” Jon said, surprised. He tried to think for a moment. “Ah—I’ve always been fond of The Duchess of Padua.”

Martin smiled encouragingly. “Yeah? I don’t know that one. Tell me about it.”

Jon launched into an explanation of the plot. The more into it he got, the more wildly he gesticulated with the hand Martin wasn’t attending to. Martin listened to Jon ramble the way he always did, with a smile and a look of genuine interest as Jon went on about a topic he knew nothing about and honestly didn’t care all that much about. He’d even told Jon, simultaneously not long ago and an eternity ago, that he’d always hated the theater, yet here he was letting Jon describe in technical detail the plot of a play he’d had no good reason to fall in love with.

“—staged very often, or studied for that matter, but I always thought it was fascinating,” he concluded with a sigh. “I actually rose a bit in a professor’s esteem because I used that one as the basis for our term paper on one of Wilde’s works rather than The Importance of Being Ernest or The Picture of Dorian Gray.”

“Yeah, I know how that goes. Best grade I ever got in school was on a paper I wrote on The Ballad of Reading Gaol.” Martin set something on the coffee table. “How’s that?”

“I—” Jon looked down at his hand. The lights were still out, but his eyes had adjusted, and he could see the stark white bandage looped neatly around his hand, securing the gauze without being too tight. “Oh. You’re done.” He gave his boyfriend a slightly accusing look. “You were distracting me.”

“You were panicking,” Martin told him. He wrapped both arms around Jon again. “I really was listening, though. I love listening to you talk about something you know a lot about. Or even something you’re just pretending you know a lot about.”

“Hey,” Jon protested, but without any real heat. He tucked his head into the crook of Martin’s neck and sighed, curling into him. “Thank you. For taking care of me. For knowing me so well. For being here.”

“Where else would I be?” Martin kissed the crown of his head. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

How many times had they passed those words back and forth, Jon wondered? He could probably Know the exact number, with a little effort, but it didn’t matter, because it wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough. They could say it with every breath they had left from now until the end of time, and it still wouldn’t be enough. Jon had made a vow, kneeling in the remains of what had once been his boss’s office and pressing futilely against the gaping wounds in Martin’s chest, that he would never leave an opportunity to say them unsaid. They didn’t need to say it for each other to know, but it was important to Jon that they did. And while Martin never said as much, Jon knew it reassured him to hear confirmation every once in a while.

They sat in silence for a while, Jon letting Martin’s presence and the secure feel of his embrace soothe away the last of his lingering terror, or at least his lingering immediate terror. The fear would never go away completely. He’d grown to accept that. But at least now it was just the usual hum of background terror that was his everyday life, rather than the sharp, immediate panic of a flashback. Here with Martin, he was as safe as he ever could be.

At last, he sighed. “We should probably go back into the other room before the others eat everything.”

“I’m sure they saved us some,” Martin said. “But sure. You’ll have to get up first.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re sitting on my lap, Jon.”

“Oh. Right. I knew that.” Jon managed to get to his feet. Martin chuckled as he stood, too.

Tim had lit several candles and was apparently mid-debate with Sasha over whether or not he should add another one to the mix. Past Jon rolled his eyes in Jon and Martin’s direction when they came in. “Please make them shut up.”

“Impossible, I’m afraid. They’re both breathing,” Jon said dryly. Tim snorted and Sasha stuck her tongue out at him. “It smells good in here. Have you been baking?”

“Electric oven. Jon barely finished cooking dinner before the power went out. It’s the candles,” Tim admitted. “One of the kids in the neighborhood keeps selling them to raise money for school trips and the like, and I’m apparently one of his best customers.”

“Well, if you add any more, the smell might be overpowering. Or you might set off your smoke detector.”

“Point. Okay, then, sit down and eat. We saved you a couple plates.”

Jon didn’t have to look at Martin to see the I-told-you-so look on his face.

As they ate, Sasha slid a piece of paper towards him, covered in neat, still-unfamiliar handwriting that Jon presumed to be hers. “Can you think of anything on here we missed?”

The lighting wasn’t really adequate to read the paper clearly, and Jon was tired, despite Martin’s presence and support; the panic attack had drained him a bit more than he’d expected. He was going to need something stronger than a couple of old statements to recover,  but he had no idea how to go out and get it. It all combined to make him forget himself a little. He reached out with the Eye rather than his own eyes to skim the paper. Sleeping mats, camp stoved, tinned food (ANYTHING but peaches)…

“What’s all this?” he asked, picking it up to see a bit better.

“Supplies,” Past Jon said brusquely. “You didn’t think we’d make you stay in those tunnels without some way of being comfortable, did you?”

Actually, Jon hadn’t thought about it. He picked up the list and studied it more closely, with his actual vision this time. It seemed like a fairly comprehensive list. There were a few things on it that he recognized as bearing his boyfriend’s hallmark, unexpected items that nevertheless might, in certain circumstances, make a huge difference. He angled the paper towards Martin. “Anything you have to add?”

Martin raised an eyebrow. “Unless that’s written in Braille, I don’t think I’m going to be of much use there.”

“Oh. Right.” Jon was thankful that the combination of his complexion and the low light in the room would probably hide his blush from anyone whose eyes still functioned.

Tim looked back and forth between the two Martins. “Wait, you know Braille?”

Past Martin ducked his head, looking mortified. Martin, however, simply nodded slowly. “Mum had one of those pill keepers, you know the ones. I taught myself Braille so I could know which pills to get ready for her without turning on the light before she was ready to be awake.”

The look on both Tim and Past Jon’s faces made Jon slightly glad, and also slightly disappointed, that Martin’s mother was dead. Then he remembered that she’d died while he was in his coma, so she was currently still alive in a nursing home in Devon refusing her son’s visits but accepting, even demanding, his money, and it was very difficult for him to swallow his own anger and uncharitable thoughts. He wasn’t a monster and couldn’t act like one, no matter how good his motives seemed.

Instead, he covered the moment by reading the list aloud to Martin. Martin listened and nodded and smiled when Jon hit the last item on the list. “I don’t think you need to worry about a tape recorder, honestly. They turn up on their own.”

“So I’ve noticed,” Tim said dryly. “But you said the tunnels blocked stuff at times. I figured, just in case…”

“Might be a comfort,” Past Martin suggested softly. It was the first thing he’d said since Jon and Martin had come into the kitchen.

“The tunnels don’t stop the recorders,” Jon said. “But…thank you. It’s thoughtful of you.”

Sasha nodded and took the list. “We’ll get everything together tomorrow, then, and you can find another entrance to the tunnels.”

“Will you be able to find the Archives?” Tim asked. “Through those tunnels, I mean? They’re a mess, honestly.”

“We’ll manage.” Jon actually wasn’t a hundred percent sure how easy it would be. He’d had a map made at one point, but that was after Leitner had manipulated things for him, and the tunnels were shielded from the Eye, somehow. He’d be lucky not to have to live with the ever-present…fuzziness he’d dealt with when they’d been staying with Georgie and Melanie and their inadvertent cult. But they really and truly didn’t have a choice.

“I suppose if we have to, we could put a—a beacon or something at the foot of the stairs under the trapdoor,” Past Jon said uncertainly.

Tim grinned. It looked slightly diabolical in the flickering candlelight. “Ooh, or one of those electronic gizmos they use in hunting to attract prey.”

“I’m very sure random deer calls would have the opposite effect than luring us to where you want us to go,” Martin said with a smirk. “Have you ever heard those things? They’re terrifying.”

The conversation devolved into a slightly silly discussion of the weirdest animal cries they’d ever heard, and Jon was able to breathe and eat his dinner without too much trouble.

That night, though, curled into bed with Martin, he said quietly, “What if it’s a bad idea? What if being down there…what if I fall apart again? What if it’s like at Salesa’s, but worse?”

“It won’t be,” Martin said. The confidence and assurance in his voice was almost a physical force.

“How can you know that, though?”

Martin ran a hand through Jon’s hair, gently untangling a knot that had probably got there during his panic attack in the living room. “Did you know that if you lose sight in one eye, you only lose something like twenty percent of your overall vision but all of your depth perception?”

“No?” Jon could have known that, if he’d wanted to, obviously, but it wasn’t something he’d ever consciously set out to learn. He also didn’t see how it was relevant.

“I mean, you can sort of train yourself to compensate for the depth perception, but yeah, twenty percent of your vision. Mostly peripheral. It makes it harder to see people coming from that side of things.” Martin’s fingers caught in another knot. “The Beholder really had two eyes overlooking the Apocalypse, Jon. Jonah and you. He saw from the heights and you saw from ground level. He oversaw, and you…experienced. I’d even go so far as to say you were the dominant eye, so to speak. Of course you were weak when you were cut off from it. It’s like a phantom pain. That won’t be an issue now. The Eye isn’t as…strong. You said yourself, you’re still…you, just not quite as…all-powerful?”

“Hopefully I’ve still got enough power to do what needs to be done,” Jon sighed, but Martin’s words were a comfort.

After a pause, Martin added, “And you have me.”

“And I have you,” Jon agreed. “And we can probably get fairly close to the Archives. All right, I know I’m probably worrying unnecessarily. It’s just…” He trailed off, tracing his fingers over the three puckered holes clustered just above Martin’s heart. Jonah had known what he was doing, far too well. “I can’t lose you again, Martin. I can’t. And I’ll never forgive myself if it happens because I wasn’t strong enough.”

Martin covered Jon’s hand with his own. “It won’t. You’re strong enough, Jon. I trust you. And you know I’ll be right there with you the whole time.”

“I know.” Jon snuggled into Martin’s chest, then leaned up to kiss him. “You know I can’t do this without you.”

“I wouldn’t want to see you try.”

Jon yawned and adjusted the covers over the both of them. Martin rolled onto his side and buried his face in Jon’s hair, and Jon sighed with almost-forgotten contentment as he drifted off to sleep, Martin’s heartbeat thudding steadily in his ear.