#I just had a call from the gods that told me to give em triplets

[damianito]

THE SKK TRIPLETS ARE SO ADORABLE AAHHH

THANK YOU AAAHHHH

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Not My Brother

Summary: What happens when two guys looking exactly like you show up in your world yet no one bats an eye except the three of you? A whole lot of confusion. Especially when everyone keeps calling those guys you've never met before your brothers...

Pairing: None (features Dean Winchester, Beau Arlen & Ben/Soldiery Boy)

Word count: 8,600ish

Warnings: language, Soldier Boy's language, mention of torture, spoilers for Supernatural, The Boys & Big Sky

A/N: Here's the triplet fic! I wrote this basically a year ago and finally finished! Told from all 3 guys POV's. Enjoy!

_______

Beau

“I’ll be heading out in five,” I said, turning the corner with my eyes locked down onto a file. And smacking straight into a body. Poppernak bounced back, an apologetic look on his face.

“Sorry, boss.”

“It’s fine Pop. What’s…” I trailed off.

Sat in the two chairs in front of my desk were what appeared to be my fucking twins. One had shorter hair and a days worth of scruff on his jaw while the other’s hair was a tad longer than mine, a beard on display. He was a bit more muscular than the other one, which was saying something since they were both strong. The one with short hair was more of my body type, his green eyes flashing with a flicker of surprise at the sight of me but then nothing more. He shifted in his seat, his flannel shirt riding up in the back. 

Meanwhile the other one looked pissed as all hell, jaw clearly clenched. Unlike the other one in jeans and workboots, the angry one was in a pair of sweatpants and a zip up, his sneakers absolutely filthy.

None of this would have been alarming if not for the fact that I was not a fucking identical triplet.

“Nollins found your brothers fighting again,” said Poppernak as I noticed the little scrapes on their cheeks and knuckles. “We brought ‘em to you per instructions.”

“Right…” I said, Poppernak staring at me. Was I hallucinating or something?

“You want to charge them?” he asked just as Hoyt walked into the doorway with a file in hand. 

“I need a signature…well if it ain’t the Arlen boys,” she grinned, looking at my clones sat in the chairs. “Let me guess, Ben started it.”

“I did not!” said the angry one. The short haired one quickly argued against that, Jenny giving me an apologetic smile.

“I thought Ben and Dean were getting along better lately?” she whispered as she held out a file and pen to me.

“Uh, guess not?” I said, quickly scribbling on the form she wanted me to sign. “I need to deal with this.”

“Night guys! Behave for your brother for once,” she said, giving them a quick wave. Poppernak left behind her, allowing me to shut the door and lock it after them. I closed my eyes and spun around, the two men still sat there. Oh god, I was losing it.

“What the fuck is going on!” I said. Dean and Ben shared a look as I held up a finger. “Ah. I know what’s happening. I’m having a stroke. Oh! I bet I slipped on that damn front step that’s been wet all day. I slipped and hit my head and now I’m dying on the ground somewhere. Huh. That’s sad. I never got to get Emily that motorcycle like I wanted. Is she going to cry at my funeral? Stupid question. Of course she’s going to cry. God, I hope she’s not too upset. Poor baby doesn’t deserve-”

My face was suddenly tingling, Ben standing there with his hand clenched as I cupped my cheek.

“You punched me!” I said, the pain feeling way too much like a real hit. “What kind of near-death hallucination is this!”

“Stop being a fucking pussy and man up. You think I’m happy about losing my powers? You don’t see me being a bitch and crying about it,” said Ben. Dean yanked him back, pointing a finger at him. “You want to go again?”

“Shut up and sit your ass down!” Dean growled. He rolled his eyes, turning to me with a friendly enough smile. “Relax dude. You’re not dying, okay? I have a good idea of what’s going on and if I’m right, me and jackass over here will be out of your hair really soon.” He slapped my arm, dropping his smile when I stared at where he’d touched me. 

These guys were real. Like in the flesh real.

“Before you freak out on me, let’s take this conversation somewhere more private, hm? Maybe not a police station? Okay, Chief?” said Dean.

“I’m the Sheriff,” I mumbled, closing my eyes. 

“It’s just a nickname, buddy. You got a house? Let’s go to your house okay, Sheriff?” I nodded in what felt like slow motion, grabbing my jacket as Dean convinced Ben to come with us. 

If I was going to have a mental breakdown, at least the Dean one seemed nice.

“Where’s my airstreamer!” I said twenty minutes later when I pulled up to where my home should have been. Instead, a large, beautiful wood cabin sat in it’s place, nestled in the trees. “That’s not my house!”

“According to google it is,” said Dean. I glanced to my right, glaring at him as he scrolled through my phone. 

“How did you get that!” I said, trying to snatch it away.

“You tossed it in the cupholder, dumbass,” scoffed Ben from the backseat. “Is this numbnuts house or not, cocksucker?” Dean turned in his seat, his features tight. 

“First off, dickwad, I screw women. Second, there’s nothing wrong with sucking cock, got it?” he rolled his eyes and scrolled the phone more. “We totally would have a homophobic alter ego out there in some universe. We’re just that damn lucky. Even you with your Sheriff job and seemingly normal life, I bet it’s fucked up to a degree huh?”

“Yeah,” I breathed out, Dean humming as he stopped his finger on the phone.

“I’m not homo whatever you called me,” said Ben, leaning forward in his seat. “I know what that means. I don’t care if a dude fucks a dude. You just look the type.”

“That’s still a problem, jackass. People don’t look-”

“Guys,” I said, swallowing thickly. “Can we just agree we shouldn’t judge other people, for anything besides their character and focus on more important things like what the fuck is happening?”

“Yes, Beau, excellent point,” said Dean, slapping my shoulder, giving Ben a glare. “Isn’t it?”

“Sure, whatever,” he said, getting out of the car. Dean slid out too with my phone, leaving me scrambling to put the car in park and follow after. “Oh you’re so a dirty cop to afford this place. I can respect that.”

“I am not a dirty cop!” I snapped, Ben raising his eyebrows as I got in his face.

“Well, well. Maybe our little pussy has a dick after all.” I looked back at Dean, his face in an apologetic smile.

“You can see how we got arrested for getting in a fist fight now, huh?” said Dean. He walked past me, slapping my shoulder before putting a hand on my back, guiding me forward towards the house. “So this isn’t your house, Beau?”

“Like I said, I live in an airstream on this plot of land. There’s an old cabin not too far but my house was right here this morning and now-”

“Fuck!” growled Ben. Dean and I froze, carefully spinning around to watch him fall to the ground on hands and knees. He started to shake, Dean moving fast over to his side. I looked around, this close to going back to my dying theory, when Dean hoisted Ben up, an arm around his body. 

“Beau. Inside. Now.” He was moving fast and I jogged up the few front steps to the porch, opening the door and flipping on a light switch. I blinked, catching a framed picture on the wall. It wasn’t one I recalled taking but I could clearly see why.

There was Ben, Dean and I, arms around each, wearing big smiles on what looked like some sort of camping trip.

“Beau!” shouted Dean, already past me and up the stairs, Ben clinging to him for dear life. “Find us a bathroom now!”

“Right, sorry!” I said, jogging up after them. I skirted around them in a hallway, finding a bathroom in the first bedroom I checked. I whistled as I hit the lightswitch, Dean inside with Ben, sitting him down on the floor before he reached inside the shower and turned it on full blast. “What’s-”

“He’s having a panic attack,” said Dean. I glanced down, Ben shaking hard, his eyes staring at the tile floor but not quite seeing anything. I didn’t even notice Dean leave, quickly back in the bathroom and returning to Ben, slapping a pair of noise-canceling headphones over his ears and wrapping a blanket tightly around him. 

Ben blinked, staring at Dean with tears in his eyes, anger and shame in every feature of his face.

“Go ahead and call me a cocksucker all you want man, but I ain’t leaving your ass until you’re though this, understand me?” Ben nodded once. Dean sat back next to him, sighing deeply. “Sheriff? Maybe you want to go tell your wonderful neighbors to fuck off with the fireworks? I want this guy with us when I tell you guys what’s going on.”

“Yeah, I’ll, uh, I’ll be back in ten.”

“Are you a cop? Or ex-military?” I asked Dean half an hour later. We were sitting on the large sectional in the family room of the home, big enough for more than three grown men to comfortably lay on at once. Ben glanced at Dean from where he sat by himself way down, steadily nursing his glass of bourbon and refilling it.

Dean cleared his throat and shook his head.

“You act like it,” said Ben. He said that with certainty, a twinge of remorse in my gut for not realizing he was suffering from PTSD earlier.

“You must have served,” I said to him, Dean sipping from his cold beer. I drank from my own as Ben closed his eyes. “Like Dean said, I think we’ve all had some bad hands dealt to us. Maybe of our own doing, maybe not. I’m still pretty sure this is a fever dream and isn’t actually real-”

“It’s real,” they both said. 

“How do you know that?” said Dean with a nod at Ben. Ben smirked, slumping back in his seat.

“Where I come from, I was born in 1918. When I was a young man, I signed up for a secret war effort and then injected me with Compound V. It made me a superhero. Superstrength beyond what you two can even comprehend. Invulnerability. I never aged past my mid-forties. I was a war hero. A movie star. Women, men, everyone wanted to get fucked by me or be me. And then my team betrayed me, I was tortured for forty years by the russians, and they stuck nuclear waste down my gullet. But I was so damn tough it didn’t kill me. No, no. It made me powerful. I could fucking explode. Bring down buildings. Turn other supes human. Kill them.” 

Ben knocked back his bourbon and smiled, looking between Dean and I.

“I was born exactly like the two of you. Just a boy. Just a man. And I could do all that before they drugged me up and trapped me back in a box. So if all that was real, then I can believe that life has the ability to throw me into another fucking dimension, or whatever the fuck this is, too.”

My eyes couldn’t have been wider, Ben snickering at me but I couldn’t even try to be mad at him.

He’d been a fucking superhero? A superhero? That was-

“I hunt monsters. And demons and the supernatural and a whole bunch of shit. Even took on the devil and God a few times and won. Technically I died in 2020, even though I did that a bunch too, but I was dead dead last I checked and it was also like 2070 something last I knew and according to the calendar in your office it’s like fifty years earlier so something weird is definitely up,” said Dean.

My head turned slowly to him, eyes still wide, mouth gaping now. 

“Also, other worlds totally exist which what I’m pretty sure is happening. We’re all different versions of the same guy in different universes,” said Dean.

“You hunt monsters? What kind of fucked up world do you live in? At least he’s like superman!” I said, pointing at Ben.

“If superman does hard drugs off a hooker’s ass then sure, I’m like that guy,” chuckled Ben. My head whipped back to him, Dean holding up a hand. “Who died and made you the head of this operation in the first place, Deanne weenie? I'm the oldest. I’m in charge.”

“I spent forty years tortured in hell by demons, grandpa,” growled Dean. “I know what the hell I’m talking about so sit down, shut up, and let me figure out a way to get you back to whatever universe you belong in.”

“I spent forty years getting tortured too, cum guzzler. It don’t make you special,” said Ben, getting to his feet. Dean rose fast, the two of them bumping their chests against each other.

“Wait!” I jumped over the ottoman in the center of the couch, forcing them each to take a step back. I took a deep breath, Ben grabbing my arm to yank me backwards.

“Not now, kiddo. I need to finish what I started with this one,” said Ben. I planted my feet but Ben was strong. Maybe not super strong anymore but still, he pulled me back hard and fast. Fast enough to make me trip and hit my head on the way down.

“Ow!” I gasped, wrapping an arm around my head, slowly getting to my knees. When I opened my eyes, Ben was worriedly staring at me, his hand on my head. “Get off-”

“What is going on?” Ben asked Dean, looking over his shoulder. He was wide eyed when he looked back at me, looking me over. “Why the fuck do I feel bad I just did that? I don’t give a shit about you. I don’t know you. I don’t…”

I looked at Dean, his eyes closing. 

“When Ben had his panic attack-” I said, Ben growling. I ignored him, looking to Dean still. “When he was scared, you went full blown…you were acting like you cared about him.”

“For some reason, when that happened, something clicked,” said Dean, kneeling down on the floor beside Ben and I. He found Ben’s gaze and nodded. “It felt like you were my brother. Even when you pushed Beau just now, I don’t hate you when I easily could. I just…”

“Care that Beau’s okay,” said Ben. He held out a hand, helping me sit up, a gut punching hitting me in the stomach. I swallowed, the same thick swallow they were sharing. “Dean.”

“You’re using my name. Now I’m concerned,” said Dean. Ben groaned but I understood where he was going with this.

“Dean, I think what Ben’s trying to say is…this isn’t your guy’s universe and it’s not mine either. I have one brother and he’s not you guys so wherever the hell we are-”

“We’re brothers here,” said Dean. He closed his eyes. “This is our house too. There’s too many pictures of us in this house, the bedrooms are too different, the garage outside has my muscle car in it I’m pretty sure. Which means we’re in a completely different universe.”

“Or we’re not,” said Ben. Dean opened his mouth to argue but Ben slapped his hand over it. “We could be dead. Or in purgatory.”

“I was already dead and you two weren’t there,” said Dean. “Besides, it’s 2023. I was dead and Ben was in a box? Or some shit. We couldn’t die twice.”

“I wasn’t dead in the box, moron,” sighed Ben. “I was just in a coma kind of. On ice. For probably the next forty years.”

I stood up, needing something for the splitting headache between my ears. I left them to bicker in the family room, something nagging at me that this was familiar. It couldn’t be though, right?

I wandered into the kitchen and swiped some pills from the cabinet, ducking down the hall to a bathroom and tossing a few down.

“Guys?” Loud footsteps approached as I existed, holding up the bottle. “How did I know where this bottle would be? I’ve never been in this house.”

“I’d assume the medicine would be in the kitchen,” said Dean, Ben shrugging. I shook my head, shaking the bottle.

“No. No I always keep my medicine in the bathroom. I always have my whole life. My parents did, I did, my ex-wife. Always in the bathroom. So why did I know to go to the kitchen?” I asked.

“Because that’s where Dean keeps them, isn’t it?” said Ben, crossing his arms.

“I think I know what’s happening,” said Dean, very slowly holding up a hand. “Ben. You and I woke up on that trail, remember?”

“Obviously,” said Ben. “Get to the fucking point.”

“Beau, did anything weird happen today? Did you…did you have an emergency? Did you black out?”

“No. I was at work, pursued a thief, caught them-” Dean grabbed my wrist, his face tight. 

“How did you pursue the thief? Was it dangerous?” 

“It was on a motorcycle. It got a little fast but-”

“I know what happened,” said Dean. He dropped my hand and ran his own over his face, eyes wide. “I don’t know how to fix this. Fuck, I think we’re stuck until we die.”

“Fine with me,” said Ben. 

“What happened?” I asked, crossing my arms. Dean shut his eyes and breathed deeply.

“We are in a world where the three of us are brothers. Triplets obviously. And the reason the three of us care about each other and get flashes of things, like knowing where the pills were, are because we’re remembering lives that aren’t ours.”

“Uh…” Dean swallowed.

“Today Ben and I died. This version. We fell off a cliff while hiking. Ben fell and I tried to catch him but we both went over. And you Beau, you got hurt on that motorcycle. The versions of us from this world, they all died today. But for some reason, we all got put in the wrong damn bodies and now we’re here.”

“That makes zero fucking sense,” said Ben. He held up a finger. “Actually, it’s fucking stupid. It makes more sense that-”

“Nope, Dean’s right,” said a voice behind us. I spun around, a young man in his twenties smiling back with a wave. “Sorry, paperwork mix up. I’ll pop you guys back where you belong.”

“Hold up shortstack,” said Ben, striding over to the young man. “If-”

The man disappeared, Ben and Dean still close by. The familiar nagging feeling was gone but the three of us were still there.

“Jack! It didn’t fucking work!” said Dean.

“It did! You three are exactly where you’re supposed to be. Beau, I shuffled a few things around in your universe so Dean and Ben can stay. Ben wants to and Sam wants you to have a fair shot at life too so he’ll see you when it’s time, okay? Talk to you guys when you die! Bye!”

“The fuck is going on!” shouted Ben.

“This is why God should not be a child,” groaned Dean. “We’re stuck. We’re fucking stuck as brothers. For real now. All because man-child druggie over here wanted to not go back to being in a coma. I was dead and I was ready to go!”

Ben threw a right hook, Dean barely dodging it. He tried throwing another but I caught his bicep, yanking him away from Dean.

“Enough!” I shouted, holding up a hand in front of each of them, keeping them at arms length from one another. “You fucking calm down, Ben. And Dean, cut the guy a break for not wanting to go back to being captured.”

“He’s clearly a piece of shit. You heard him talking before, Beau,” said Dean. “I-”

“I said enough!” Dean’s jaw snapped shut, both of them huffing, giving each other dirty looks. “Ben, go take the bourbon and hang out on the porch, alright?”

He said nothing and went past, not without forcefully bumping Dean’s shoulder. When the front door slammed shut, Dean wiped a hand over his face again. “Really dude?”

“Beau, I get you want to be the nice guy but he doesn’t belong here and neither do I,” said Dean. I skirted past him, stopping in the main hall of the house, looking out the front door to find Ben sitting on the front porch with his head between his knees. “We don’t know Ben. Maybe he deserves to be locked up. Trust me, I’d love to be alive again but I want that with my real brother, not this place. Ben and I aren’t supposed to be here.”

“Actually you are,” said that young man’s voice again. We both looked around, the young man sighing. “Listen, Dean. This is Beau’s world, the Beau in front of you. Maybe I went ahead and switched things up a bit, made you guys all brothers and yes, you can recall memories when needed. Maybe I did fuck up Beau’s world. But there’s a reason for that. All three of you need each other. You-”

“I was at peace Jack. I-”

“You were bored out of your fucking mind in Heaven. Hey, you want to get back in the game? Consider this your audition. Help your new brothers,” said Jack. “Beau?”

I pursed my lips, crossing my arms. “Yes, uh, Jack?”

“You don’t have to be afraid of me. But I don’t pop into your world often. You guys don’t get into as much trouble as say, the world Dean lived in.”

“Excuse me but who’s fault was that?” argued Dean.

“My point being, Beau, is to be yourself. Your ups and downs are as valid as your brother’s. Your monsters just don’t come with claws or lasers,” said Jack. “Now I really, really need to go. Dean, magic doesn’t exist here so yeah, you guys are stuck until you kick it. I promise I will pop you back to Sam when you do, okay? Just try to be there for each other. And maybe get a stiff drink in Beau. He’s pretty sure he’s lost his mind. Be sure to stay away from rebar!”

“Little shit!” shouted Dean. He grumbled but was quickly going to the liquor cart, grabbing a bottle of tequila and shoving it in my hands. “Drink.”

“Was that…God? Is God a kid in his twenties?” I asked, Dean ripipng the cap off, and pressing the bottle to my lips. I swallowed back two shots worth before he let me up for air, patting my back.

“Yes…technically he’s his grandson. God was a major dickhead. Jack’s cool but hands off which means-”

“Which means this is for real,” I finished. Dean knocked back some tequila himself before throwing an arm over my shoulders and leading me outside.

“We stuck?” grumbled Ben.

“Yup,” said Dean, sitting down on a porch seat, leaving me to lean back against the railing, taking another swig from the bottle. “Happy fucking new universe to us.”

“It’s actually pretty nice,” I hiccuped. Ben groaned and drank down a fifth of the bourbon bottle without so much as a flinch. I blinked, staring at him as I felt flashes of a memory. “You were in special ops. You went to rehab twelve years ago for a drug problem but you’ve been clean since,” I said. Ben narrowed his eyes at me, smirking darkly.

“Your wife divorced you and left you for a rich schmuck. Oh, and your kid potentially wants nothing to do with you. Sheriff.” I turned away from him, Dean closing his eyes in his seat.

“Can we all just agree to shut up and drink tonight?” sighed Dean. 

“Agreed,” we both said. No one said a word as we silently passed the bottles between ourselves. 

I knew I’d have a killer headache in the morning but I didn’t care. If I was ever going to have an excuse to get blackout drunk in my forties, this was it. But even as the three of us lay on the porch hours later, everyone too far gone to even move, something tickled the back of my mind.

“We used to have sleepovers on our parents porch,” I mumbled.

“Are our parents nice?” breathed out Ben. I hummed. “Is our dad?” His voice was thick, Dean shifting beside me.

“Don’t worry about it man. Look at Beau. I’m sure his…our parents are really nice people, right Beau?” said Dean.

“Good. I don’t want anymore shitty ass parents,” said Ben. I forced my head to the left, finding his back to me. He was soon snoring, Dean relaxing comfortably close by.

Maybe when I woke up, I’d realize this was all a very intense dream that had never actually happened.

Somehow I knew in my gut though that in the morning when the sun rose, Ben and Dean would be exactly where they slept.

And they weren’t going anywhere.

Dean

I groaned as I sat up. Sleeping on the hard wood of the porch had been a mistake. I noticed a blanket had been tossed over myself, Ben snoring loudly off to my side with his own blanket and hugging a pillow to his chest. 

The smell of coffee hit me and I hummed, wearily following it inside. Beau was in the kitchen, sipping on a cup of nearly white colored coffee and the thought to tease him hit me.

“You like to drink a lot of cream in the mornings do we Beau?” I said before I could help myself. Beau slurped it back, his annoyed smile letting the tightness in my chest relax.

“Only if he bought me dinner first,” he chuckled. “And yes, I like cream in my coffee. Sue me.”

“Leave some for the rest of us is all,” I said. He poured me a cup as I got out the carton, the two of us working around each other like we’d done it a million times. It was only when I sat at the kitchen island did I realize he was freshly showered and dressed, a badge and gun on his hip. “You going to work?”

“Yup,” he said, pouring more coffee in a travel mug. “I don’t get the most time off in the world and I’d rather save my vacation days for…”

Emily. In my head I saw a clear picture of her, a protective instinct towards her I’d only felt towards Sam before. Glancing at Beau though, I sensed it too and somehow, I knew it’d be there for Ben too.

“I’m so jealous of you,” I said. Beau fixed the cap on his mug while he worked on putting together a ham and turkey sandwich. “I mean…”

“You want to be a dad. I know. I feel like we’ve had this conversation before,” said Beau. “I get the feeling my daughter adores you and Ben.”

“The bastard has to have a soft spot somewhere,” I said. I glanced over my shoulder towards the front door, a pang of guilt rushing through my veins. “I can keep an eye on him.”

“I appreciate the gesture but Ben’s a big boy. He makes his own choices,” said Beau, sliding his sandwich into a baggie, tucking it away in a soft sided lunch box. “You guys probably have jobs too you ought to get to. Maybe check your rooms?”

“Good idea,” I said. I quietly watched him finish packing his lunch, Beau rinsing out his mug before placing it in the dishwasher. “I guess we’ll see you later today then.”

“Yeah. It’s friday last I knew so maybe we can order some pizzas, try to get to know each other?” I smiled, a small twinge of jealously in my gut again. “Sounds like a plan. Text if you need something.”

“Sure thing,” I said, watching him gather his things and start to head out. He froze halfway down the hall though, spinning around to look at me. His face was curious and bashful at the same time. 

“When you say you fought monsters, that include demons?” he asked. I nodded, his eyes widening for a moment. “Does…does salt actually keep them away?”

I chuckled, looking him over. I liked Beau more and more. “It’s actually ghosts the salt works on. Demons you need either an enchanted amulet or something like that or an anti-possession warding.” I peeled down my shirt collar, revealing my tattoo. “Doesn’t seem like an issue in this world.”

“I’d rather not know the answer to that,” he said, smiling softly. “Later Dean.”

I nodded, the house quiet for a beat. I trudged upstairs, finding a bedroom that I instinctively knew was mine. It was the room the three of us had crammed in the night before, the memory of Ben shaking on the bathroom floor forcing an unpleasant ache.

Only Sam had ever elicited that ache.

But something about Beau, even Ben…it rushed in my blood, made me hope Beau got to work safely. Made me wish Ben didn’t have to endure that kind of fear. 

“This is what I get for complaining that heaven was too fucking boring,” I mumbled. I opened a closet, eyes darting around for clues when I caught a pair of coveralls with my name stamped on the front. “I’m a mechanic? That tracks.”

My phone on the nightstand rang, an unflattering picture of Beau eating a plate of nachos popping up.

“Hey,” I said, flipping through the closet. “I think I’m a mechanic.”

“Actually it looks like you’re a firefighter. Your work badge is sitting on my passenger seat,” he said. “And uh, you’re probably going to be pissed but your name is Dean Arlen according to it.”

“It’s whatever,” I sighed, resigning myself to that fact I’d be spending the next forty years in this world. At least.

“Any luck on what Ben does?” I slipped out of the room, going to the one across the hall. 

“Nope. I just checked…aw, this must be your daughter’s room. It’s so pretty. Will you be my dad?”

“No, idiot,” he laughed. “I might be oldest but-”

“No offense kiddo but I’m pretty sure I’m oldest,” I said, closing the door and heading down the hall.

“Tell you what? I’ll look up our birth records when I get to work. Loser has to make dinner.”

“You’re on, kid.”

“Asshole,” he mumbled. “I’ll drop your ID off at the firehouse, okay? It’s down the block from the station.”

“Ten four, Sheriff.” Beau sighed and hung up as I pushed open a door, this room neat and tidy, a framed children’s drawing on his dresser. I went to the only other room in the hallway, grimacing when I opened the door.

Ben’s room was a disaster. Clothes everywhere. A pungent smell of old spice in the air. There were beer cans and bottles on nearly every surface. I almost decided to give up and assume Ben didn’t have a job when a slip of paper on a covered desk caught my eye. I slipped inside, frowning at it.

“Guessing this one’s mine,” grumbled a voice behind me. I spun around, Ben walking in with a glass of something gross looking. He took a sip and closed his eyes. “We should get a maid.”

“Or you can clean up after yourself,” I said. He chuckled, his features dark. “Is that beneath you?”

“Listen,” he said, putting the glass down and walking up to me, pressing his chest against mine. I was not a small guy but this one…he had twenty pounds of muscle on me easily. He stared me down, narrowing his eyes. “I don’t know how they do things in your universe but in mine, people do what I say, understand?”

“We’re in Beau’s universe so tough shit. Here, you can be a damn man and clean up after yourself.” Ben leaned in close, smashing his nose against mine, a threat of violence in the air that reminded me of when I had the mark on my arm.

“Give me a reason to snap your neck, boy,” Ben growled. “Unlike that pussy cop, I don’t give two fucks about you or anyone else here.”

My instinct was to snap back, headbutt this asshole into the next century. But...if I couldn’t shake the feeling of giving a shit about these guys then that meant he couldn’t either.

“Then kill me Ben,” I said, raising my chin. “Go ahead. If you really don’t care, do it. I won’t even make it hard for you. Because I’ve died. I know where I’m going. You though? Something tells me you might end up going downstairs and trust me, you won’t like it one bit.”

Ben’s hand shot to my throat, a threat in the air. There was no pressure though, only his heavy pants in the air.

Suddenly it was gone, Ben storming across the room, throwing most of the things from the dresser onto the floor. Glass smashed against the hardwoods, items bouncing against the carpet before coming down with a hard thud. He kept his back to me, breathing heavily.

“I’ll take that as you aren’t going to kill me then,” I said. Ben mumbled something, shoulders shaking slightly. “Listen, you got crap? I get it. I get whatever the hell this is too. But it’s the twenty first century. You can get help and be a fucking man too. I have work. Can you survive on your own?”

“I don’t need a damn babysitter.” With a roll of my eyes, I left, going down to my own bedroom. After a minute, I wash changed into a fresh pair of jeans and had found a t-shirt with a fire emblem on it, one I assumed matched the fire station I worked for. I quickly grabbed a black flannel and a pair of white and dark olive green sneakers out of my closet, whistling to myself.

“You look new,” I said to myself, pleasantly surprised they fit so well. I jogged downstairs and noticed Beau had made up an extra pair of lunches while we were talking earlier, grabbing one and heading for the door.

“Wait.” I had my hand on the handle as heavy footsteps came downstairs, Ben changed into a baseball jersey and pair of tight jogger sweatpants. He slipped on a pair of sneakers in the tray by the door, staring at me. “Alright, let’s go, jackass.”

“I didn’t realize I was your fucking chaufer.”

“I’m drunk,” he growled. I nodded back at the kitchen.

“Beau made you lunch. Might as well take it before I drop you off wherever it is you’re going.”

“I’ll be back before then,” was all he said. Two minutes later we were on the road, driving in dead silence. For the first time I caught Ben smiling as we rode along in Baby, his hand running over the dash. “Ah. See this is a car I could drive. Don’t get me wrong. That cocksucker of a brother we have-”

“Don’t insult him.” Ben’s lips pressed into a thin line. “The man might not have fought monsters like I did or had super powers like you but he’s divorced with a teenage daughter. And he’s a cop, in charge of all the other ones. In charge of this town. The man is kind but don’t underestimate him. He’s got crap too. He’s us, remember?”

Ben crossed his arms and stared out the window for ten minutes until we hit the edge of town. I wasn’t sure where we were going but I let muscle memory guide me, eventually coming up to a small complex of doctor’s offices. Ben didn’t move when I leaned forward, recognizing the name on the sign from the letter on his desk.

“You’re an asshole,” I said. I saw his lip twitch up in the passenger mirror. “Go on before I kick your ass out. I got work.”

“You’re such a bitch,” said Ben, climbing out of the car and heading inside the building without a second glance. I shook my head, driving down the road for a few minutes, passing by Beau’s truck out front of the police station. I let instinct take over, eventually finding a fire station down the block. I found an empty spot out front and parked, inhaling sharply.

“Here goes nothing.”

Work was amazing. I wasn’t just a firefighter. I had seniority. I worked on arson investigations. I got to teach little kids on field trips all about fire safety. It was like tapping into these untouched parts of my brain. The more I let go, the more memories filled in. One’s about work, about Beau and Ben. 

Maybe Sam had a point about forcing me to live a normal life like he’d been able to. I missed the hell out of him but I knew I’d see him again and for him, it wouldn’t be that long. In the meantime, I knew two guys that could do with my help right here.

“Howdy, Sheriff,” I said late in the day as Beau and the pretty female cop my brain told me was named Jenny pulled up to the scene of a small house fire. “We just put out that fire, Beau. What you doin’ bringing more hot things my way?”

Beau’s eyes glared as Jenny laughed, smacking my arm. “Oh, I love you Arlen boys. All of you are such flirts. Except Beau. That some sort of big brother thing?”

It was my turn for my face to fall as Beau threw his arm over my shoulder, giving me a tight squeeze. “It must be. My little brothers are such flirts. Especially the baby, isn’t that right, Dean?”

“By twelve minutes!” I said, dread filling my veins as a memory popped into my head. I so was not the baby brother. I hadn’t spent a lifetime of being Sam’s big brother to suddenly be thrust into baby brother status.

“Enjoy it, kid,” Beau whispered in my ear, slapping my back as he pulled away. “Everything settled here?”

“Space heater caused the fire. Minimal damage. No injuries,” I said, Jenny looking me up and down, a twinkle in her eye. “Jenny, you want to grab a drink after work?”

“I would but I have a hot date with Cassie. Unless you want to join us?” 

“Sorry, Dean’s going to have to take a raincheck. We need a little guy time after the incident yesterday. Plus Dean has oh so graciously offered to make us dinner,” said Beau, narrowing his eyes when Jenny wasn’t looking. 

“Right. How is Ben by the way?” she asked. “I thought rehab stuck this time.”

“It did for the drugs,” I said, my mind filling in a gap it didn’t know existed a split second before. “We’re still working on the drinking.”

“He’s cutting down,” said Beau as I found myself nodding along with him. We shared a concerned look, Jenny polite enough to not say anything.

“Well, I know he’s a big softie deep down. He’s making progress which is something,” she said, clearing her throat. “Beau, I’ll do a quick interview and write up the report.”

“Excuse me, are you volunteering to do paperwork? What demon are you being possessed by?” Beau teased. I stared at Jenny, probably too long, Beau grimacing behind her. “Uh, sure. Need a ride back to the station when you’re through?”

“Dean can give me a lift,” she said, a curious smile on her face. 

“Alright. Dean, I’m ducking to the grocery store. You’re making me pizza tonight,” he said. He waved as he walked away, Jenny crossing her arms and staring after him.

“Your brother is something else,” she said, dipping her tongue out past her lips.

“Oh,” I said as it clicked. “You’re hot for your boss.” She grabbed my arm, quite hard for how small she was, dragging me around to the end of the fire truck. 

“Dean, I told you I don’t know how I feel about Beau. I just…don’t say anything to him. Or Cassie or Ben or anybody, got it?” I held up my hands, Jenny letting out a small exhale.

“Can I ask a personal question?” 

“Careful, Dean,” she said but nodded anyways.

“Why not me? What’s so different about Beau and me?” I asked. She smiled softly, resting her palm on my bicep.

“You’re sweet, Dean. A good friend. You boys are similar in ways but Beau’s friendship…it lifts me up if that makes sense. There’s a light to him that-”

“I understand,” I said, flashes of memories that weren’t my own but were popping into my head. “Beau’s the good brother, Ben’s the bad one and I’m the one that’s known for sleeping around.”

“You’re known for pushing women away when they start getting to close Dean. I know you boys have only been in town a year but I’d guess that’s who you’ve always been. It’s a shame. You’d really make someone happy if you just let yourself.”

Awesome. I was the same guy in this universe, just without a legitimate reason for being alone.

“Thanks, Jenny,” I said when she pursed her lips. “Honestly.”

“Life’s funny. It doesn’t mean it’s too late for anything,” she said, walking past me. “If you know what I mean.”

“Like you wanting to fuck my brother?”

“Shut up Arlen!” she said with a huff. “All you fucking men…”

I had the feeling Beau was still very much in love with his ex-wife. Yet…something told me Ben and I got on his back about Jenny. One man and two potential women to enjoy?

I’d rather deal with the devil all over again.

Ben

My head was fucking killing me and not just from the hangover. Everything was so fucking confusing. There was too much information in my head. It was too fucking much. I knew what the internet was and bluetooth and all those other fake fucking words Hughie had made up. Or I thought he’d made up.

I’d been gone almost forty years and in that time everything had changed so fucking much.

Funnily enough, I fucking enjoyed therapy. It turns out I wasn’t a complete piece of shit. If you don’t give a shit about everyone equally, you’re just an all around asshole which was a step up in my book. 

But apparently my language was “inappropriate” or some shit. It “hurt” those around me. Like my brothers. Yeah right. Those two little shits would get hurt walking to the damn mailbox in my world.

Maybe not Dean. He seemed…angry in a way Beau wasn’t. But they were both still pussies by all standards.

It was getting late in the afternoon as I walked down yet another sidewalk in downtown, the air slightly cool. It must have been early fall based on the few trees starting to turn color. 

“Hey Ben,” said a gorgeous woman with a small wave as she struggled to get her keys in the door. Cassie. She was Beau’s friend and by proxy, mine too. 

“Hey,” I said, walking over, resisting the urge to comment on her ass as I took a box out of her arms.

“Thanks,” she said, opening up the shop door. “Today’s been a disaster. I can’t believe it’s already after three and I’m only now just getting in.”

“I bet,” I said, following her inside, trying very hard to keep my mouth shut. I mean this woman looked good. The old me from before Russia would probably already be screwing her over the desk by now.

“You’re abnormally quiet,” she said, taking the box from my arms. “And no flirting? I bet your interview didn’t go as bad as you think.”

“Interview?” I asked, Cassie rolling her eyes at me. 

“You know, the one you were supposed to have today…the security thing?” Memories flashed in my mind about Beau and Dean pulling strings with a friend of theirs to get me an interview with a private security company. A job I could clearly recall not wanting in the first place.

“Oh. Yeah,” I said, catching a clock on the wall. This supposed interview was in less then fifteen minutes. “Doesn’t sound my style.”

She suddenly looked annoyed, setting the box on a counter off to the side. “Well I’m kind of busy so maybe you should go anyways.”

“Baby-”

“I have a boyfriend, Ben,” she said, narrowing her eyes. “Go to the interview for your brothers sake.”

“Whatever,” I said, leaving and walking once again. It only took five minutes to find the place I was supposed to go but I didn’t want a fucking job. The only job I’d ever had was being a supe. A movie star. Model. All of those I’d made the rules.

Anyone who tried to make me do anything other than what I wanted could get fucked.

One Hour Later

I took the fucking job. Why oh why did I say yes to that fucking job? Worst of all, they wanted me to start on Monday.

At the fucking daycare. They wanted me to work at a fucking daycare at the front desk. Me. 

“Hey,” said Beau, pulling up to a stop on the street as I sat on a bench, a stack of black polos with the security logo stamped on them beside me. “You cool?”

“Just get me the hell home,” I grunted, grabbing the shirts and pilling into the passenger seat, grateful when he kept his mouth shut most of the way there.

“So uh, Cassie texted me.” I glared at Beau, his eyes on the road. “I guess you had a job interview?”

I mumbled the story to him, Beau making a surprised sound when I finished. “What’s that supposed to mean, dickhead?”

“Means they must like you, must think you have the capacity to deal with an environment full of kids all day,” grinned Beau. 

I would have slapped him in the face if he hadn’t been driving.

“If I’m lucky I’ll die snorting coke off a whore’s tits before Monday,” I said, Beau frowning as we pulled up to the house. 

“Don’t do that,” he said when I was halfway out the door. I rolled my eyes, Beau’s face so pathetic looking though that I closed the door and sat back in my seat.

“Why not? I don’t want to be here and the world don’t want someone like me in it. I was someone in my universe. Here I’m a mooching scumbag apparently. So who cares if I go out the fun way?”

“I do.” Beau shook his head at me, my annoyance growing. “God, Jack, whatever…that kid put you and Dean in my world for a reason. Dean, I get. He died young and this is a chance to live a normal life. Me? Maybe I do things differently and don’t bottle up my shit and move on from my ex. And you? Maybe you need to get rid of your superiority complex and learn to just be a normal person without superpowers or torture or whatever. So don’t do something stupid cause I will find you in the afterlife and I will kick your ass if you do.”

“Fine,” I grumbled. A minute later I was in my bedroom, frowning at the space. It was pretty fucking filthy. “Why don’t we have a fucking maid again?”

“Because we’re not rich,” said Beau as he walked past my open door. I heard him go into a bedroom and exit a moment later sans his firearm and badge, his shirt untucked. “Dean’s making homemade pizza when he gets in.”

“Good. I’m starving,” I said, following Beau downstairs. “How much to get you to clean my room?”

“What did I say to you not five minutes ago?” asked Beau, spinning around on the stairs, looking up at me. “Find a closet or bathroom. I’m sure there’s cleaning supplies in there.”

“Well I’ve never cleaned shit so how was I supposed to know that?” Beau raised his eyebrows. “What? I grew up rich and then got even richer.”

“Well I seriously doubt mom and dad would let you get away with not cleaning your room. Think and you’ll remember.” I frowned. Of course I knew how to fucking clean something. It didn’t mean I wanted to.

“Still stupid,” I mumbled.

“Ben,” said Beau, raising his voice. “I know you think you’re hot shit but you are a sorry excuse for a man. Start acting like one and maybe every conversation you have won’t be a fight.”

Beau went downstairs, leaving me standing there feeling for the first time in a very long time like maybe my dad had been right.

I really was a fucking disappointment.

I cleared my throat an hour later as I went downstairs to find Beau and Dean laughing in the kitchen. They turned their heads when I walked in, a strange awkwardness settling in my gut.

“I uh, cleaned my room,” I said, glancing at the three ready pizzas. “One of those for me?”

“Come on, man. You can make up your own,” said Dean. I settled next to him, looking at the different topping options. “I heard you got a job today.”

“Yeah,” I said, sprinkling some pepperoni on top of one. 

“So what was it like growing up rich?” asked Dean. “Personally we had jack shit after I was four. Nice to know I was well off in one universe.”

“It was alright,” I said, Beau passing me a bowl of peppers and onions. “Actually it sucked. I was never good enough for my dad.”

“Been there, done that,” said Dean. “I mean, I made up with my dad eventually but it wasn’t until after he died.”

“My dad’s nice,” said Beau softly. “Our dad. You guys will like him.”

“I’m sure we will,” said Dean, nudging my ribs. “Hey. Even if he’s not perfect, beats being tortured for forty years, am I right?”

“You have a point.” I put some extra jalapeños on my pizza before I was done, Beau hopping up on the counter. Dean grabbed a few beers from the fridge, handing one to each of us and then putting the first pizza in the oven.

“So,” said Beau, taking a draw from his bottle. “I know this situation is kind of crazy but not gonna lie, I don’t mind having some company at home again. Em stays with her mom a lot lately.”

“I lived with my brother most of my life,” said Dean with a small smile. “It’s not half bad.”

They both glanced at me, waiting for me to share something personal. I resisted the voice at the back of my head screaming for me to snap an insult back at them.

“I’ve kinda always been on my own I guess,” I said, fiddling with the bottle in my hands. 

“Well not anymore,” said Beau.

“Just stop calling us pussies all the time?” asked Dean, a smirk on his face.

“No promises,” I said, Dean slapping my back.

“Told ya you’d warm up to us,” he said. I rolled my eyes, Beau chuckling into his beer. “We’ll work on it.”

Beau held up his bottle, raising his chin. “To Ben working on his potty mouth.”

“To living in a world where we can have normal lives,” said Dean, lifting his. I tilted mine up, nodding once.

“To my new, weird as fuck, brothers.” 

“I’ll drink to that,” said Dean, throwing an arm over my shoulders, a strange warmth filling me up. “Now who’s hungry?”

________

[wouldpollyapprove]

Three Peaky Caps

Request: Tommy Shelby x reader, taking there triplets babies with him to a meeting with other peaky blinders, while reader goes shopping or something else. And I feel like Thomas would have custom hats made just like the peaky blinders but for the babies like maybe pink or blue ! Also hope you are safe and okay 💕

Requested by Anonymous

Thomas Shelby x Reader

Word Count: 767

Warnings: None??? Just the mental image of Tommy w/ his children

A/N: I hope this turned out well, I love the idea of Tommy with his children. I hope to god I can get all my requests done soon cause I got some ideas of my own that I want to work on. And I get my wisdom teeth out on the 22nd and hopefully the recovery period will give me some time to work on stuff.

Masterlist

Tommy sat at his desk, paperwork for a new business deal sat in front of him. Eyebrows furrowed, no amount of education could help him translate the stupidity he was reading into something that made an ounce of sense. With a sigh, he ran a hand threw his neatly combed hair as something hit his leg. Glancing down, a soft smile spread his lips as leaned down to pick up Percy, the toddle giggling as he was placed in his father’s lap.

“Don’t go into this line of work, it’ll piss ya off,” Tommy told the young boy, shaking his head as he looked back over at the paperwork he wanted to burn. The toddler, unable to comprehend his father’s words, played with his fingers, poking the buttons on Tommy’s waistcoat. 

Just as he was about to put his son down and return to his work, a playful shriek came from the main room of the betting shop before two small children ran into the room. Full of giggles and smiles, the two children ran laps around the open space of the office. Tommy chuckled and placed Percy on the floor to play with his brothers. Percy wasted no time joining his brothers in their madness as their father leaned back in his chair and watched. 

Percy was the calmest of the three boys, reminding Tommy of the man he was before the war. He hoped his boys never had to experience that form of hell. Then there was Louis, he was like a bull in a china cabinet. Y/n always feared leaving him to his own devices for too long, something would always end up broken. The last boy, Will, who was happily chasing his brothers around, was a mama’s boy. Where ever Y/n was, he was. But when she wasn’t around, he had no issue raising a little hell.

“What is going on in here?” Polly sternly asked from the doorway, hands on her hips. The three boys slowed their pace. They’d been in trouble with their Aunt Polly before and were wise enough to know when she meant business. 

Tommy shrugged, resting his hands behind his head. “We’re working.”

She snorted, rolling her eyes. “If this is what you call working then I’m surprised we’ve stayed afloat this long. Children don’t belong in the workplace, Tommy, why aren’t they with Y/n?”

“She’s at the market. Difficult to control three small children when you’re trying to pick out apples.”

Polly stepped into the room and picked up Percy when he raised his hands up in front of her. Placing the child on her hip, she walked around the room. “And this is control?” Her nephew nodded causing her to roll her eyes once more. “Why don’t you take them home, along with your work, so everyone else can work in peace?” she suggested. Turning, she walked up to the coat rack, ready to throw Tommy’s coat at him and force both him and his children out the door but stopped short when her eyes landed on three small caps. “Are these peaky caps?” It was a stupid question to ask, she already knew the answer.

Nodding, Tommy stood up to collect the remaining children on the floor. “Had ‘em made last week,” he informed her as he walked over to where she stood and grabbed two small coats. “The boys kept running off with mine, this was the best solution to keep my caps where they belong.”

His aunt shrugged and placed a coat on Percy along with a cap. “I better never see a blade in their caps, Thomas, ever,” she warned and put the small boy on the floor. 

“You never will,” Y/n assured her, stepping into the room with a wicker basket hanging from her arm. “Right, Tommy?”

“Right,” he agreed, fearing what would happen if he didn’t. “How was the market?”

“It was lovely, quiet without my three little beasts,” she mused as she was greeted by her children. “Are we going home?” she asked the boys, smiling when they all nodded in unison. 

“Yes, we are,” Tommy said as he slipped on his coat.

His wife raised a brow and stepped in front of him to adjust his coat. “Oh, Mr. Shelby, I thought you had to work?”

“That can be done tomorrow,” he said with a smile and leaned in to kiss her. “I’d rather spend time with my lovely wife and children.”

Walking out of the room, Polly howler back, “He’s also afraid of what’ll happen if his lovely offspring keep interrupting my work.”

*~~*~~*

Let me know if you would like to be added to any of the taglists.

Permanent: @amirahiddleston @haphazardhufflepuff @woahitslucyylu @mzcrazy2 @lovemissyhoneybee @multi-fandom-iimagines @tarafaithe @jenepleurepasbaby @fernweh-fangirl @the-anxious-youth @theshelbyclan @wtfdanness @chloeforde @futuristicslimemongerbanana @auds24 @lucillethings @nemesis729 @sirkekselord @princesscornbread @i-volunteer-for-finnick @iwillboilyourteeth @anyasthoughts @ellieemais

Peaky Blinders: @simonsbluee @queenofmankind

Thomas Shelby: @captivatedbycillianmurphy @imnotuglyimjustpredebut @creativemayhems

[sortasirius]

“Last Call” and Canon Bi Dean

This is going to be very long, very rambly, and very emotional.

Really though, I had high expectations going into this, and quite honestly?  Jeremy Adams blew me away.

This episode is about Dean’s growth, it’s about who he was to Lee, and who he is now, about overcoming his own desire to just stop caring and keep on fighting for the innocent.  But most importantly to me?  This episode canonized bi Dean.

So let’s just get right into it, we know from the beginning that we’re meeting Lee, Dean’s old friend that Sam doesn’t really know or isn’t really close with, but the way Dean leaves?  He doesn’t want to bring down the mood of Sam and Eileen in his post breakup depression funk?  Good grief.

The bar is cool and right up Dean’s alley, and right out of the gate we get the promo scene with the waitress that we were all wigging out about.  And my hunch was right, Dean just kinda rolls right by, which man, Dean from season 1?  Hell no.  She’s just his type, clearly into him, and yet, Dean’s world literally falls away when he sees Lee Webb singing onstage.

You can’t really do justice to the way with words to the way that Dean looks when he sees Lee and realizes who he is, Jensen and Christian have so much NUANCE in their scenes together, and the history behind them is palpable, even though we don’t know the extent of it.  And Lee is just the same way, looking Dean up and down and “Dean Winchester,” just to hammer home that something is going on here and we should not ignore it.

“You got time?”  “Always.”  Bruh. There are so many details that we can pick up on about them, their relationship, who they were to each other.  Even Dean’s little “you sound good,” come on guys, what the fuck?

That’s another thing: why don’t we know the history?  Why do they shy away from talking about why they split apart?  Dean is clearly upset when Lee mentions Arizona, what happened?  Why did John and Dean never mention Lee? And obviously Lee knows John, hell he seems more sorry than Dean does that John’s dead, but then again, the Dean that Lee remembers idolized John, so that’s definitely a big change for Lee, because Dean clearly doesn’t idolize John anymore.

I just want to hear about everything that’s mentioned in the episode in more detail: Lee and Dean went hunting together, presumably alone, since John caught them drunk on a hunt.  What went on?  I think we know. How often did they hunt together? How long had they known each other? D E T A I L S please Jeremy Adams!!!

“I don’t think I have seen you since Sammy was in college.”

“Right.”

“I mean, hell, I thought you were-”

“Dead?”

Also Lee does this little teasing laugh and everything about them is soft and my chest hurts.

“I mean, that’s usually how this ends, isn’t it?”

And what I want to talk about here is Lee’s reaction, because he doesn’t shrug and do the usual “so it goes” that so many hunters do, he looks at Dean, like really looks at him, he sighs and says a simple “yeah” with this look that’s so soft and so full of something and Dean looks away (doing his eye motion thing he does with Cas) and Lee breaks contact too and looks down and smiles and oh my god.  I told yall this was going to be rambly but I didn’t draw breath while typing that lmao.

I wanna know about the Arizona thing, I want to know why it made Dean uncomfortable when Lee mentioned it, and I want to know why it’s glossed over.  These two were like best friends, you can tell, and for them to just stop talking?  Hm.

They swap tales, talking about the triplets that they “split em up fair and square” even though that’s not possible and they had an orgy obviously.  Dean has this look with the waitress again and you can tell he appreciates it but like?  That’s the end of it?  In the next scene she’s gone and it’s just Lee and Dean talking, Dean making Lee laugh and enjoying it, it’s just so...romantic?

And even though, the second that Lee doesn’t recognize someone he should puts all of us, as the audience on alert, it doesn’t even cross Dean’s mind that Lee is doing something wrong, it’s not even on his radar.

“There’s nothing you can’t have, man.”

“Then who’s gonna kill the bad guys?”

“Somebody else.”

And Dean looks away, because it’s clear what Lee is asking.  He’s asking for Dean to stay.

When Lee starts up the band, I was just struck by how much they look at each other, getting in each other’s space, Lee leaning forward, Dean watching him walk away.  Guys.  This happened in front of our faces on screen.

“Can’t sit around lip syncing ‘Eye of the Tiger’ when no one’s watching.”

This is a callback to the ghost sickness episode, but also an intimate moment that no one gets to see of Dean.  Sam catches him in the act of it on that episode, so how does Lee know he does this?

And then, let’s get to the singing.  Dean’s always postured to Sam that he can’t sing (which we all know Jensen has the voice of an angel) and the buildup to him actually singing was so beautiful, because Lee knows he can, he teases him with the “Eye of the Tiger” thing, winks at him, keeps trying to pull him onstage, stands there and bites his lip when Dean’s singing.  I mean.  I’m at a loss to what else you would think about them, it’s just plain as day: they were together.

The whole thing is just so playful, and we never see playful like this from Dean.  It’s flirty and funny and sweet and just such a nice change of pace, so good for Dean to be with someone that clearly wants to be with him, who he has history with (amidst the divorce he’s currently in w Cas).  Even when they sing together they can’t keep their eyes off of each other and the whole thing is honestly too much it’s so fanfic-y and I can’t handle it.

And then, the big thing, Lee slaps Dean’s ass in the middle of the song, and Dean doesn’t blush, he doesn’t stand up straighter like that’s weird or wrong, he grins this huge amazing beautiful grin and says “you son of a bitch.” What else are we looking for here?  He’s bi.  He’s bi.  With the lighting behind him and the bar named Swayze’s and Lee staring holes through him, we finally saw onscreen, canonical proof that he’s bi.  Sure, it’s been hella subtextual before, but this is text, and no one can ignore it.

At the end of the song, one of Lee’s hands is gripping Dean’s shoulder, and Dean’s arm is around Lee’s waist??????????  Help??????

They round it all out with kicking some gross guys out of Lee’s bar, and Lee stares at Dean and says “still got it.” I mean....I’m running out of ways to say the same thing over and over.

“Best friend’s don’t just leave without saying goodbye.”

“They do if they deserve it.”

Hmmmmmmmm, something to think about with these lines.

“Look, I don’t know what’s going on okay, but this is not you.”

Compare that with:

“Cas, this isn’t you, this isn’t you.”

Cool.  Fine.  I want to die.

Lee became the monster because he thought there was no point in being a good person anymore.  You can’t stave them off so you might as well “have a little fun.”  Which I think is interesting because of how apathetic and hopeless Dean’s been since Chuck, since Jack, since Mary, since Rowena, but when it comes down to it, he’s always going to care, which is why we love him.

But what I really want to talk about is the way Dean’s face twists when Lee touches him, he turns his head away, his face contorts, like he wanted Lee to touch him, but not like this.  We’ve seen Dean’s heart break so much in this show, he’s lost so much and so many, but this is something so different.  It’s not only betrayal, or a realization that he has to kill Lee, it’s the loss of what he had with Lee, what he felt for him.  It hurts to watch as an audience member, and I can’t imagine how it is for Dean.

Dean’s voice also breaks when he tries to call Lee back, in case you still had any tears left to cry.

The gunfight is intense, but not nearly as intense as what’s coming.

“I don’t know you.”

“You don’t Dean?  I am you.  I’m just you that woke up and saw that the world was broken.”

“Then you fix it.  You don’t walk away, you fight for it!”

No double meanings in this episode are there?  Perhaps this is a little bit of what happened between them all those years ago bubbling to the surface?

And then we get one of the best fight scenes in the show, and you know when Dean gets that cue stick, that it’s game over for Lee, but what I wasn’t expecting is the sheer heartbreak on Dean’s face.  They both look down at the wound, like they’re both surprised, and Lee holds Dean, he fucking holds him, and this fucking piano music plays when Lee says “okay” and drops to the floor, and Dean leans against the pool table because fuck, how much more can he lose?

And because not even THAT is enough, ten seconds of divorced Destiel distress?  Where Dean clearly wants to talk to Cas but Cas is still giving him the cold shoulder and it breaks Dean’s heart but he doesn’t know how to fix it????

There’s just so much to unpack here, the show is teaching us new things about Sam and Dean and Cas all the time, and yet I feel like I really know Dean know, I;ve seen a little bit of him that I had never seen before, and I’m just grateful. I’m grateful for Dean, grateful for these writers, grateful for his growth.  I’m grateful for the angst and the happiness he had with Lee, however fleeting, and I’m grateful that I get to leave this episode with the fact that Dean is oncreen bi.  Sure, it can be up to interpretation, he didn’t come out and say it, but that’s because he didn’t have to.  Lee knew, so we knew, and that was all that mattered.

This silly, weird show is important to me for so many reasons, (clearly, since I talk about it all the damn time), but Dean especially is so important to me, I see so much of myself in him, and him being allowed to be him, without some grand coming out scene is even better than I could have ever hoped for.  So thank you, Jeremy Adams, for giving us bi Dean, and one of my absolute all time favorite episodes in the show.

[ms-rampage]

New Dawn: New Horizons Chapter 4 - The Twins 

Warnings: Language, some violence

Word Count: 2.0k

Summary: The 5 Winchester kids meet The Twins after they invade their home. 

Guest OCs: Just the usuals

Guest Characters: Mickey and Lou. Archangel Raphael [Supernatural: Male vessel], John Seed [mentioned]

Note: Far Cry: New Dawn and Supernatural crossover. Sorry for the gaps in-betwern chapters 😖😅

Written by @athenalillystar and myself. Hope y'all enjoy!! 😁❤

Taglist: @wargames94 @vicki-the-sinner @rabbitsoldier @mrsladydiana

_________

Flashback 16 years earlier

Paige and Kate had given birth to kids. Paige had triplets, 2 boys and 1 girl, having to get a C-section with the help of her friend Cody who happens to be a doctor, and performed the surgery, and was living with them underground in the bunker. 

Kate having a vaginal birth a few weeks later, and giving birth to a little girl. Thought she would’ve been a single mother but around the time the bombs dropped, some angels had been cast out of Heaven, and one of them seeked shelter with the Winchesters, their friends, and family. Archangel Gabriel aka Trickster aka Loki aka several other names, appeared in their bunker hours after the bombs had dropped. 

He had lost about 70% of his powers, and was basically also human. Him, and Kate grew closer, and eventually developed a relationship. 

After Kate gave birth to her daughter Daenerys, Gabriel grew to love the infant, and became her father.

He protected her, he loved her in many ways possible as she got older, even though he was technically her adoptive father, her real father being John Seed. 

She always saw him as her birth father, and nothing else. Not knowing that he was an Archangel, and her adoptive father. 

________

A few days have passed. 

One morning everyone at Prosperity wakes up to the sound of an explosion outside the safehouse. 

Kim Rye alerts the Winchester-Smith compound for back up, and they immediately rush to their aid.

Paige, Kate, Kenny, Mandy, Barbara, Nate, Mark, Cody, Marty and Adrian had taken off to help out against the attacking Highwaymen.

The kids, Cristina, Bianca, Jeffrey, Thomas and Daenerys stayed back with some of the other adults. 

In case the Highwaymen attacked there, and that’s what happened. 

The Highwaymen attacked, throwing bombs and shooting at the front gates of the compound. 

“Come on they’re here!!!” Cristina yells, going to their families gun case.

All the kids each grabbed a rifle, ammo, explosives, and took their positions. 

They were all trained for something like this. Their parents trained them since they were younger than 7 years old. They all knew what to do when they were attacked. 

After wiping out all of the Highwaymen. Getting shot at, and coming out uninjured.  A gruesome battle of exchanging bullets. 

"How many did you kill?" Jeffrey asks his younger triplet brother. 

"16" Thomas answers, "You?". 

"19" he responds, with a cocky tone. A smug smirk on his face

He scoffs, "Whatever showoff". 

The 5 Winchester kids meet face to face with the Twins Mickey and Lou. Lighting off fireworks outside the gate, getting the siblings' attention.

“Oh shit!” Cristina exclaims, "Oh no" when they see they have children hostages. 

They run towards them, aiming their guns at them, and their followers. 

“Better put those down. You don’t want to scare the kids” Lou tells them. 

“Cristina” one of the 3 kids, whimpers out of fear.  

“Everything is gonna be fine kids" she reassures them, "You all better leave now!". 

Lou, one of the twins, laughs at her comment and threat, Mickey back slaps her in the face which only pisses off the elder Winchester sibling.

“You piece of shit!” she angrily mutters, as her younger brothers hold her back from bashing in her face.

“I’m sorry I just don’t like to watch people lie to little kids” Mickey tells her, a hint of sarcasm in her voice. 

“Why are you doing this?!?” Bianca asks.

The eldest Twin breaks it down to the 5 siblings. 

“Because of your hero parents” Mickey starts off, “Until they started to grow your little family Army, everything was running smoothly. But you. You all have become a fucking problem. Taking from us. Throwing everything out of balance”.

“I think we should just kill ‘em” Lou says, while holding a grenade.

Sending off the youngest of the 5 with a threat of her own. 

“Do that, and you’ll be dead before you get the chance to pull off the clip bitch” Daenerys threatens them, while aiming her slingshot with a throwing knife at Lou. Bianca lowers her weapon as the Highwaymen aim at them. The older Twin tries to calm the situation. 

“No. Hold on. We don’t want any martyrs here” Mickey intervenes, “What we want is to make sure everyone understands your help. Your whole family is a curse. Every person you help, every child you inspire, every settlement you build, we will take from you”. 

The 5 of them stare angrily at the two sisters. Wanting to kill them right there, they see the chance and it’s slipping. 

“You’re gonna have a hard fucking time doing that!” Cristina informs her, while being held back by her younger brother.

“And when you’ve got nothing, we’ll come for you” Mickey continues, getting into Cristina’s face.

“Bring it bitch!” Daenerys yells out, while Bianca and Jeff hold her back.

“Calm down Dae, calm down” Bianca whispers, trying to calm down her cousin.

Even if they’re completely outnumbered by The Twins and their followers. Cristina knows they'll have a chance at killing them, if only the small children weren't there. 

“Don’t drop it” Lou tells one of the kids, putting a grenade in his hand without the clip. 

“The only currency in this world is power” Mickey yells, “You. You made us look weak. That ends now!”. The older twin getting into Cristina’s face once again, "We are going to take everything that you hold dear. Starting with your home” she continues. 

“And if we can’t take it, we’ll break it” Lou says. 

“You ain’t taking fucking shit from us!!!” Cristina growls. Glaring up at the two. 

“Don’t be here when we come back” Mickey says, pointing at the elder sibling.  

She throws the grenade clip at Jeffrey, and he catches it. 

They get into their trucks, and drive down the dirt road. Leaving behind a trail of dust. 

“Oh god. Oh my god” Bianca mutters, as one of the kids holds an active grenade.  

“C’mere, c’mere kids” Cristina says, to the two of the kids.

Jeff puts the clip back onto the grenade. Disarming it, and taking it from him.

“Come on kids. Lets go. Lets go inside” Bianca tells the group of children, as they guide the kids back inside the compound. 

****

Meanwhile, Lucifer and Gabriel follow the sound of a high pitched static ringing, which most likely means there is an angel nearby.

“Over there!” Lucifer says, walking towards what was once Peaches Taxidermy. 

They see the silhouette of a figure, and when they get closer they see.

Their brother Raphael, pacing back, and forth. Looking lost.

He stops pacing, and looks in their direction.

“Who’s there?!?” he calls out.

“Don't you recognize your own brothers?!?!” Lucifer says, in a joking manner. 

“Lucifer? Gabriel?’ he says, in shock, “You both fell too?”.

“I’ve fallen a long time ago” Lucifer tells him, sarcastically.

“I’m one of them that fell” Gabriel tells him, “What happened?!?”. 

“I don’t know” Raphael answers. “But there are more angels out there”.

“Who else?!?” Lucifer asks.

“Michael, Samandriel, Castiel, Uriel, Gadreel and probably more” he tells them, looking around the radiated wasteland. 

“Do you know where?!” Gabe asks.

“I heard a frequency going that way” he points, towards the direction of the Drubman Marina.

“Alright let’s go” Lucifer says, already walking towards the direction.

They walk in the direction of the Drubman Marina, walking through the toxic radiation that they can’t smell, nor does it have any effect on them. 

“Do you have your powers Gabriel?” he asks.

“Very little” he answers, “I lost like 70% of my powers. What about you?” 

He sighs, “About the same. I’m surprised I can survive in this radiation”. 

“Have you tried to contact dad?!” Gabe asks. Looking at his older brother. 

“Yes. but he doesn't answer” he replies. Looking at his younger brother. 

Lucifer jumps into the conversation, “Yeah, I know. Same thing with me”

They’re halfways to the Marina, and Lucifer picks up the frequency of another angel. Looking around, trying to spot another celestial through the thick fog. 

“Where have you been Gabriel?” Raphael asks.

Before he could answer, “He was living with the Winchesters and he’s a father!!” Lucifer tells him.

Raphael looks at his little brother, “You brought in a Nephilim?!?!”.

Gabriel groans, and stammers over his words, “No, no. I didn’t bring in a Nephilim. Kate Winchester was pregnant already, and when I fell I teleported to them in their bunker because they were the only humans I knew that would’ve taken me in”.

The eldest Archangel gives his younger brother a piece of his mind. 

“Plus Mandy Winchester said you told her about Joseph Seed” Lucifer says to Raphael. 

A look of disappointment on his face, “Yes, I did several years ago. I told her about him, and that he needed to be protected. Why? Because our Father spoke to him. I didn’t know he meant for all of this to happen” he responds with his arms out. 

“Dad spoke with him for all those years. To recruit people for his “Cult” and look at what happened” Lucifer says with his arms out. 

“I didn’t know!!. I didn’t know he was going to do this!, if Joseph wasn’t protected” he defends himself.

They continue walking towards the Marina, and the pitch ringing comes back.

“Over there!” Raphael exclaims, he can somewhat hear the angelic frequency. 

A silhouette standing still with their head lowered, muttering something to themselves. 

They get closer, and they see Uriel.

“Uriel?!” Raphael calls out. 

He lifts his head up slowly, and sees his older brothers

“Raphael?, Gabriel?, Lucifer?” he questions, relieved, “Are there more of you?!?”.

“Most likely. According to Lucifer” Gabriel tells him.

*****

The 5 siblings sit at the front steps of the main house of the compound, waiting for their parents to come home.

“We could’ve killed them right then and there” Cristina mutters.

“If we did, we could’ve killed those kids too” Thomas tells her.

“We just have to wait until they come back, and maybe they can figure something out” Jeffrey says. 

They sit at the steps until their parents come back. After what felt like hours, they finally come back. They see the mess that the Highwaymen, and the Twins had caused.

“What happened?!?” Paige asks, approaching them.

“The Twins” Bianca answers. 

“Fuck!” Paige whispers in frustration, “Are you guys alright?!”.

“Yeah. We’re fine” Thomas answers. 

“What did the Twins say, or do?!?” Kate asks them. 

“They said that we better not be here when they come back, and that they’re gonna take our home” Cristina answers. 

“Like Hell they are. I’m gonna put a fucking bullet between those little cunts eyes” Kate mutters, angrily. 

“Okay, calm down, we’ll get them. We need to prepare for it. They hit us, we’re gonna hit them back harder” Paige tells them. 

“What do we do?!?” Cristina asks.

“We’re gonna need more supplies. The 5 of you can go out, and scout for more supplies. Anything you can find, and while you’re out get some intel on those little shitheads. I want to hurt them” Paige instructs them. 

They get up from the steps, and go to the garage. Taking one of the cars, and drive towards Roughneck’s Crag. Since that’s where all the best supplies are. There and that abandoned gas station near the Meatfort. 

[nitewrighter]

👏Bob👏Yatta👏Fanfiction👏continuation👏PleASe👏

Zen and the Art of Hovercycle Maintenance, Part 3

Previous Chapters: 1, 2

—-

Ashe was sitting across from him, hat off, her white hair taking on a slight yellowish tint in the glaring light of the workroom. She looked smaller with the hat off, but sharper somehow, like a blade unsheathed. She sat across from him, leaned back in her seat slowly turning one of Zen’s orbs of destruction over in her hand. Bars and Bob loomed in the corner, and Zenyatta heard a sneeze to his left, moved to turn his head, but found he couldn’t. All motor functions shut down again, he thought.

“Way to ruin the moment, idiot,” muttered a voice to Zen’s right.

“Wasn’t my fault!” said the source of the sneeze.

“Both of you shut up–” said a voice behind Zen.

“Boys,” Ashe spoke simply and the three voices flanking Zen instantly silenced.

“Sorry boss,” they all spoke in unison. Ashe gave a nod of acknowledgement before fixing her red eyes on Zenyatta.

“Care telling me what you’re doing working with Jesse McCree?” She

“Can I ask what will happen if I don’t tell you?” asked Zenyatta.

“You can,” said Ashe, “You ain’t gonna like it.”

Stall, thought Zenyatta, You know McCree and the others are looking for you. Just stall.

“What will happen?” asked Zenyatta.

“We still find out,” said Bars, “We shut you down, dismantle your head, sort through your visual data from the past 36 hours a handful of terabytes at a time. We put everything back, put you back together, and wake you back up, of course, but everyone says it feels like everything in their head’s been moved an inch to the left.”

“You would do that to another Omnic?” said Zenyatta.

“I’ve done it to other Omnics,” said Bars, leaning in.

Zenyatta studied Bars’ face for a moment, “…one of those eyes isn’t yours, is it?” said Zenyatta.

“It’s mine now,” said Bars with a shrug. Horror flickered across the lights in Zenyatta’s forehead and Bars just stood up to his full height, “It’s all parts, Zen. That’s all it is.”

“How can you just…” Zenyatta trailed off.

“How many Null Sector units you see roving around here?” said Bars, folding his arms.

“…none?” said Zenyatta, “But they only target population centers–”

“You know how much prime solar power real estate is in these deserts? Enough to make a new Omnium,” said Bars, stepping forward, “But because there’re no population centers, you don’t see the US government giving a shit about it.”

“I told you,” said Ashe, leaning forward, “I’m the law around here.”

“You are a weapons trafficker, a bully, and a thief,” said Zenyatta.

Bob suddenly loomed forward, insulted on Ashe’s behalf, but Ashe held up a hand and Bob stilled. He signed something furiously but Ashe only gave him a short glance before saying, “It’s fine, Bob,” before turning back to Zen. “And you’re claiming moral high ground on account of, what, working with Jesse McCree? You come into my territory blowing shit up and you want to act like you didn’t throw a rock at a hornets nest?” said Ashe.

“Whatever personal issues you have with McCree–” Zenyatta started.

“Don’t,” said Ashe, “Tell me what you and McCree were doing out here.”

Bars was already looking over a tray laden with screwdrivers of various sizes. He turned on an acetylene torch to make sure it worked.

“Jesse McCree is with Overwatch,” said Zenyatta, and then he added, “I–I am with Overwatch. The new Overwatch.”

It felt strange saying it without Genji around. He and Genji had decided that Overwatch was the best means to stop the rising conflicts between human and Omnic in the world, but without Genji there, any connection Zenyatta felt to Overwatch was tenuous at best. Zenyatta had always felt like the one guiding Genji, but now, alone in a grubby little garage in the middle of nowhere on Route 66, Zenyatta felt like he had just wandered after Genji into this whole mess.

“Go on,” said Ashe as Bars examined a screwdriver.

“We were stopping a shipment of explosives,” Zenyatta spoke quickly, “Not yours. They were from Talon. The plan was to safely drop them off with the authorities at Watchpoint: Grand Mesa, when we were intercepted by the Sidewinders. There was a… miscommunication, on my team’s end, and rather than let the explosives fall into the wrong hands, we detonated them. I was separated from my team in the blast.”

“…you were caught in an explosion… because of a miscommunication…” Ashe repeated slowly.

I was caught in an explosion because I was put on a team with someone who doesn’t care if omnics live or die, thought Zenyatta before answering, “Yes. A miscommunication.”

“Well if McCree was on that mission, that doesn’t surprise me. Shit seems to have a magnetic attraction to fans when he’s around. Let me guess: McCree’s here because he’s ‘an expert on the area,’” said Ashe.

“You need to put me on this mission. I’m an expert on the area,” Zenyatta could clearly hear McCree’s voice in his memory.

“…yes,” said Zenyatta.

Ashe huffed incredulously. “I’d call him a son of a bitch but truth be told I have nothing but respect for any woman who spent that many years looking after his sorry ass without strangling him,” she stood up from her chair, now tossing the orb of destruction up and down in her hand and walking thoughtfully around the room, “That was the only reason you were here?” she said, looking back at Zenyatta, “Overwatch has no intention on stepping in on any of Deadlock’s operations?”

“Deadlock… isn’t as high a priority as Talon or Null Sector,” said Zenyatta.

Ashe chuckled and the triplets behind Zenyatta forced nervous laugh along with her. “’Not a high priority,’ he says,” said Ashe, “Oh, but once you take care of Null Sector and Talon, then petty criminals like us should be quaking in our boots,” she walked over to a worktable where her black hat was resting and fitted it back on, adjusting it in her reflection in the glass of a cracked analog television tucked in the corner, “Is that what you’re gonna do after you save the world? Do what the old Overwatch did after the Crisis and just start policing the world over again?”

“I… I don’t know,” said Zenyatta. He certainly didn’t see himself being an enforcer like that.

“No, you wouldn’t, would you?” said Ashe, looking at him with something almost like pity, “So… how is the fight going?”

“Excuse me?” said Zenyatta.

“The fight. The big damn heroic-ass fight,” said Ashe, “How’s it going?”

“I… would not be able to tell you,” said Zenyatta.

“Oh I don’t doubt that,” said Ashe, “But what do you think of it? Is it getting any easier? You got ‘em on the ropes?”

Zenyatta was silent at this.

“Figured,” She gave a glance to the orb in her hand, “You don’t exactly strike me as the mercenary type… what are you doing with them?”

“I heal and advise,” said Zenyatta. How often do they listen though? a bitter voice in his head spoke up, made sharper by his own sense of helplessness and isolation, Winston, Jack, and Ana listen to Doctor Ziegler before they listen to me because they actually worked with her. Lúcio is friendly, but his focus is largely on Vishkar. Genji listens, but he tends to keep out of the larger-scale strategizing anyway, so I can hardly expect him to advocate for me if he’s not advocating to begin with. Tracer listens, if only because she respected Mondatta.

That last thought stung and if Zen could have shaken his head to stop the train of thoughts, he would.

“You advise,” said Ashe, arching an eyebrow, “But you don’t know how the fight is going?”

“I don’t… advise tactically…” said Zenyatta, hesitantly, before attempting to assert himself as best he could while being completely immobilized. No, he wasn’t going to let himself get discouraged here. “Overwatch is a peacekeeping organization. If there is going to be peace, it requires guidance from activists like myself.”

“I thought you looked Shambali,” said Ashe, tilting her head, “So a cozy little alliance there, huh?”

“I… am no longer Shambali,” Zenyatta said a bit stiffly.

Ashe perked up a bit at this. That look of not-quite-pity seemed to shift into genuine concern. “Seriously?” she said.

“I was Shambali, but then the Shambali became overly concerned with dogmatism and overshadowed by their own fame, I believed the path to changing the world was in individual connections.”

Bob’s shoulders softened a bit at this but Bars made another exaggerated motion of his head to indicate eye-rolling.

“…So I set out on my own path,” said Zenyatta.

“And that lead you to Overwatch?” said Ashe, tilting her head.

Genji lead me to Overwatch, thought Zenyatta, but he managed a, “Yes.”

Ashe huffed a little before plopping back down in her seat.

“Bob,” she said, not even looking over her shoulder at the massive omnic butler, “Get my usual and get him some Glenwales.”

Bob perked up and quickly headed out of the room.

“I don’t want Glenwales–” Zenyatta started.

“Yes you do,” said Ashe. There wasn’t a playful ‘Come onnnn live a little!’ lilt in her voice, but rather a flat factuality.

“You threaten to take my head apart, and you think some oil is going to establish trust?” said Zenyatta.

“You talk about trust, but I wasn’t the one who started off this whole thing claimin’ to be an artist,” Ashe scoffed, “The sad part was I really wanted to believe that. We would have sent a tail after you when we let you go, I mean I’m not stupid, but I did want to believe it. But no, this isn’t about trust, Zen. This is about hospitality, and god knows you could use some.” She glanced over her shoulder at Bars. “Bars? Restore the motor functions of his head, neck, and left arm.”

“You sure, boss?” said Bars.

“Well I ain’t pourin’ that oil down his gullet, do you want to?” said Ashe, “It’s five on one and he’s not an idiot. Just lost. Like anyone.”

“I am not lost,” said Zenyatta, adjusting himself in his seat as he felt something pinch in his neck and felt the ability to move flood back into his arm.

Bob came back with an oddly fancy silver tray and two bottles and two glasses set upon it. One was an already-half-empty crystal decanter, the other was a commercial bottle of Glenwales, not even opened. 

“Sure you are,” said Ashe, filling her own glass with the whiskey, “You’re working with Jesse McCree, ain’t you?”

“Overwatch as an organization is far more effective than you give it credit for,” said Zenyatta. 

“I’m sure,�� said Ashe with a shrug, “Yeah, it’s a hodgepodge, but the firepower you’ve got is nothin’ to sneeze at.”

“You’re more lost than me,” said Zenyatta, “You are plagued by doubt and resentment, your vision is clouded by anger, and you are ultimately chained down by your past.” His words would have far more effect with an orb of discord, but if it had managed to stop Genji in his tracks a few years ago, he saw no reason why it wouldn’t work on Ashe. But Ashe just kept that expression at him as Bob poured Zenyatta a glass of Glenwales and offered it to him. Bob looked questioningly to Ashe as well with Zenyatta’s words but Ashe seemed unshaken.

“Uh huh,” said Ashe, sipping her whiskey, “I know all that. And you’re in Overwatch because…”

“Because I must help,” said Zenyatta.

“Just not tactically,” said Ashe, swirling her whiskey in its glass, “And martially you can probably hold your own, but you’re not exactly a soldier. Or a doctor. And arguably you could advocate but as you said, you’re exactly Shambali, either.”

Despite finally having partial movement, Zenyatta stiffened in his seat.

“Lost recognizes lost,” said Ashe, “Which I guess brings me to the rub of the whole situation, which is, what do you think Overwatch would give to have you back?”

Zenyatta suddenly felt very hollow. Overwatch’s resources were stretched phyllo-thin as it was. He knew as a medic he was invaluable, but whether Overwatch had anything to offer or would even negotiate such a matter…

“It doesn’t matter,” said Zenyatta, “McCree was easily able to defeat you before–”

“Yeah. Fresh after a heist when everyone was exposed and exhausted and he was pulling the puppet strings on the situation just so he could get his glowy blue sex doll back. This situation calls for your team storming our turf–which, I promise you, will end up much worse if it really comes to that, which it doesn’t have to. I don’t have the time to bother with a hostage. Your team wants you back. We can take care of this like adults.” She motioned with her own glass to the bottle of Glenwales, “And we’ll see you’re well-taken care of in the meantime.” Zenyatta noted the virtually unchanged level of whiskey in her own glass and the still-sharp look in her eye as she set her own glass down. No, she wouldn’t get his guard down that easily.

“How kind of you,” Zenyatta’s voice was bitter and dry.

“Aw, thank you!” Ashe put a hand over her heart, “People tell me I’m too nice all the time.”

“They do?” said one of the triplets, before he got swatted upside the head by one of his brothers.

“Bars?” said Ashe, putting her hands on her hips, “Think you can figure out whatever comm network our guest is linked up to?”

“Shouldn’t be too hard,” said Bars, rolling his shoulders.

“Good. I want an accessible channel with it by the time I get back. You three,” Ashe motioned to the triplets, “With me. We’re riding. Making sure there’s none of those Sidewinder clowns in our territory in the meantime.”

“You got it, boss!” the triplets said in unison.

“Bob?” Ashe put a hand on the massive omnic’s shoulder, “I am leaving the comfort of our dear guest in your very capable hands… Also rip his head off if he tries escapin’.”

Bob gave a slight bow to Ashe as she walked out of the room, the Deadlock triplets trailing behind her in a line. They all headed out the door but Ashe paused in the doorway, “I mean, we can put it back, of course–”

“…Of course,” said Zenyatta, dryly.

Ashe made a finger gun at him, “Sit tight!” she said, before slipping away from the doorway.

About a minute of pure silence and stillness passed, punctuated only by the sound of Bars’ tools clinking as he sifted through them and then the hum of hovercycles in the distance. Zenyatta slumped a little in his seat, and then noticed Bob was pushing a glass of Glenwales in his direction.

“…I don’t want any,” said Zenyatta.

“Do you have tac-mods?” said Bars.

“Pardon?” said Zenyatta.

“Tactile modifications? You know, ‘Oh wow, organic partner, you touching me feels so good, and this is very genuine because I physically altered myself so we would both feel better about your dumb meatsack body rubbing on my chassis.’”

“…I… have.. some,” said Zenyatta.

“Where?” said Bars.

“That’s rude,” said Zenyatta.

“I’m asking you so I don’t hurt you,” said Bars.

“…Chest, forehead, and hands,” said Zenyatta.

“Really?” said Bars, “No…?” he gestured at his pelvic region.

“I…. considered them, but decided I wouldn’t get them until I found the right partner,” said Zenyatta.

“Ooh la-la,” said Bars, picking up a screwdriver, “Got a real romantic on our hands.”

“I’m a monk,” said Zenyatta.

“You’re not Shambali,” said Bars, stepping alongside Zenyatta and setting a screwdriver against one of the bolts securing the small flattened cylinder on the left side of his jaw. A few loosened screws the upper half of it came off easily. Zen didn’t feel a thing. He did feel a wire being stuck into one of the manual ports and then glanced off to the side to see Bars holding a tablet and tapping a few things into it. Zenyatta heard a high pitched noise buzz through his head for a few seconds before Bars extracted the wire.

“Got what I need,” said Bars, walking out of the room, “All you, Bob.”

Bob nodded as he headed off and the door closed behind him. Bob took a seat in the metal folding chair Ashe had been sitting in. It creaked and whined beneath his weight. Bob sat primly, one leg folded over the other, fingers interlaced on his knee like an old-fashioned gentleman in a victorian clothing catalogue. 

He signed something at Zenyatta.

“…I don’t understand,” said Zenyatta.

Bob perked up, slightly alarmed, held up a finger again in a “Wait,” gesture, then stood up, stepped over to a work table and rifled through it briefly before pulling out a data drive. He pulled a small handkerchief from the interior of his vest and wiped the data drive down, looked it over, seemed pleased with it, then stepped in front of Zenyatta once more.

He held up the data drive to Zenyatta.

“What?” said Zenyatta.

Bob gestured to the side of his own head, then pointed at the exposed port on the side of Zenyatta’s jaw.

Zenyatta flinched back slightly and Bob made a slightly flailing, “it’s okay!” gesture, before taking a phone out from the interior of his vest. He slowly and clumsily tapped something out on the phone and then held the screen up for Zenyatta to read.

It’s safe.

I promise.

“I would like to trust you,” said Zenyatta, “But… given the circumstances…”

Bob withdrew the phone, rapidly tapped the screen indicating him deleting a word, then tapped something out again and held the phone up once more.

“I PROMISE” was in all caps now and Bob held up the data drive.

Zenyatta paused, studying Bob’s face, then gingerly took the data drive from Bob and inserted it into the exposed port in the side of his jaw. His train of thought slowed as it always did when he was downloading a large amount of data and Bob started signing.

“I don’t understand what you’re–” Zenyatta started, but then he did.

“—doesn’t cover all the signs, people are always making new ones, of course,” Bob was signing, “But you should be able to fill in the gaps–Do you understand me?”

Zenyatta sat there, stunned.

“Do you understand me?” Bob signed again.

Zenyatta brought up his one functioning hand and slowly signed, “Yes.”

Bob’s eyes brightened. “Oh! I’m so glad! You don’t have to sign everything. You can just talk. It’s fine.”

“…why don’t you talk?” said Zenyatta.

“I tried a couple different voice boxes, Ashe and Bars still bring me some, sometimes,” Bob signed, “None of them sounded right. None of them sounded like me. This,” he signed, “Feels like me.”

“But you were made without a voice box?” said Zenyatta.

“Technically I’m just a slightly more advanced labor unit,” Bob signed, “I was never designed with one. I learned ASL because deafness is congenital in Miss Ashe’s family.”

“…explains why she’s so good at yelling,” Zenyatta said a bit dryly.

“It’s not my place to apologize on her behalf,” signed Bob, “But it does touch on a very sore spot that you’re involved with Jesse McCree and that you lied about it—”

“Because she’s the most dangerous woman in the southwest,” said Zenyatta.

“Dangerous things tend to be so to survive,” Bob signed. He paused for a bit and Zenyatta was silent as well.

“You spoke more than I thought you would,” Bob signed after a while.

“Oh–I did?” said Zenyatta.

“I was worried Bars would take your head apart–” Bob signed, “I mean the procedure is perfectly safe, but that doesn’t make it any less unpleasant but… you shared a lot…”

“…I can’t remember the last time someone asked me that many questions–me as in… me,” said Zenyatta, “Not what I thought so they could help themselves best—” He caught himself and then glanced back at Bob, who was still listening perfectly patiently, “I’m rambling. They’re a good team,” said Zenyatta.

“I’m sure,” Bob signed.

“They are,” said Zenyatta.

“I never said they weren’t,” signed Bob.

Zenyatta just slumped back in his seat a bit.

“I do wish we had met under better circumstances,” Bob signed, glancing off at the orb of destruction Ashe had left on the workbench, “But Miss Ashe doesn’t believe in keeping families apart. As harsh as she can be, she does want to see you back home.”

“I carry the Iris with me,” said Zenyatta, glancing off, “Home is wherever I can bring human and omnic together in harmony.”

Bob paused at this. “So home is with you,” Bob signed, “It’s not… technically… with them.”

“No–” said Zenyatta, “Well-Yes–I mean…” Zenyatta made a sighing sound. Not having any lungs, the sound itself didn’t have any physical purpose aside from giving him a few seconds to think, “Is this place home to you?” said Zenyatta.

“It is. I rather like being a dastardly rogue,” Bob signed, “It’s quite thrilling.”

Zenyatta chuckled a little at the sign for ‘Dastardly.’

“And Miss Ashe is my family,” signed Bob.

Zenyatta reared back slightly in his seat at this.

“She can surprise you,” Bob signed. He daintily extended a finger and pushed the little glass of Glenwales across the silver tray towards Zenyatta with his pinky.  “Lots of things about this place can.” 

Zenyatta gave a long look to the glass, then took it and gulped it down. Well, if he was going to be here for a while…

[thelanguageoflovers]

A Study in Fate - Chapter 3

"Are you sure you're okay?" Buffy asked, following Lucy up to her bedroom and looking around. She’d only really agreed to come today because she’d wanted always wanted to see the inside of Emily Kippen’s house - it was just as overdone as she’d assumed it was. However, she found that she didn’t entirely mind hanging out with Lucy Kippen.

"Yeah, I'm okay." Lucy’s voice was dismissive as she started across the room to where she’d left her dance bag on her bed. Buffy’s eyebrows furrowed in disbelief. A decade of being best friends with Cyrus had trained her to notice when something was wrong in an instant.

Something was wrong.

"Really? Because-"

"Yes, really," Lucy huffed, whirling around to face Buffy. Fire raged through her eyes, an icy river through her veins, and thunder chorused through her voice. "I. Am. Fine. God, you don't even know me, let alone how okay I am?."

"Well I'm sorry for wanting to help," Buffy responded, sarcasm dripping from her voice like oil from a rag.

"Jesus, do you ever just fucking drop it?" Lucy snapped. "Clearly I don't want to talk about this!"

"Well, I do!" Buffy exclaimed, jaw tense.

"No! God, just- leave me the hell alone."

"Fine, I will," Buffy sneered, storming back down the stairs and out Lucy's front door. It felt as though the slam of the door shook the house on its very foundation as Lucy braced herself, her entire body tensing.

A deep breath.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

Lucy did her best to steady her trembling hands as she picked up her dance bag. She slowly ran a hand over the black material, screwing her eyes closed to fight the panic rising inside her. Her chest rose and fell quickly, her lungs felt like they weren't taking in air anymore.

She stumbled backward, sitting down on the edge of her bed. Bracing her palms against the mattress, she struggled to inhale a deep breath as tears fought their way from her eyes. In for four. Hold for seven. Out for eight.

After a few moments, she was able to genuinely breathe, though slightly shakily. Wiping tears from her eyes, she stood up, steadfastly ignoring the way her legs trembled as she walked toward where she'd left her phone on her dresser.

TJ's contact lit her phone up, and she immediately accepted the call, pressing her phone to her ear.

"What happened?" TJ asked, his voice laced with concern.

"Panic attack," Lucy mumbled, voice trembling slightly. "I- I already screwed everything up. I mean, she deserved it, but I can't believe I've already ruined everything."

"Lucy, take a deep breath, okay?" TJ commanded carefully. "Tell me what happened."

"I- I haven't been taking my meds lately."

“Your antidepressants?” TJ asked - Lucy could hear the way his eyes widened.

“I- Yeah,” she admitted.

"Lucy-"

"No, I know. I'll get them refilled. I just- I've been slipping lately. And Buffy noticed, somehow. I tried to tell her I was fine, but she wouldn't buy it. I told her I didn't want to talk about it, but she kept pushing and I just-"

"Snapped?" TJ supplied. Lucy sat down, nodding into the phone. She knew he couldn't see her, but her barely breathed 'yeah' was well enough. "It's okay, Luce. You're allowed to get mad. She should have let it go."

"God, I wish I was at home." Lucy flopped backward onto her bed with a sigh, phone still pressed to her ear.

"I'll meet you at the dance studio in fifteen." Lucy could hear TJ's muffled voice telling Cyrus he had to go; she chuckled as she picked up her dance bag and glanced inside to make sure she had everything.

"See you soon, Teej."

Four pairs of pointe shoes, an emergency leotard, three ballet skirts, several pairs of backup tights, and a few types of TheraBands all fit into the main compartment and a few pockets. She mildly contemplated how it all fit, but decided it was better to leave it alone than to think too hard about the concept.

Water, toe tape, second skin squares, nail clippers, a needle and thread, toe spacers, band-aids, extra toe pads, hair ties, bobby pins, hair nets, a few sets of ribbons and elastic, and a foundation palette all occupied the pockets lining the inside and surrounding the outside.

Standing up, she pulled a pair of tights and a black leotard from her dresser, quickly changing into them. Lucy quickly pulled her hair back into a bun, flattening it with bobby pins and covering it in a net. Finally, she pulled a red dress on over her outfit, grabbing her tutu bag and scooped up the dance bag on her bed.

"Aunt Em, I'm going to the studio!" she called, jogging down the stairs.

"Alright, don't wreck my car please!" Emily called from the couch, giving her niece a small grin.

"Duly noted."

Lucy stepped into the studio number TJ had texted her, only to find him already warm and turning.

"Hey, Teej," she said, dropping her bags and street shoes by the wall and pulling off her dress.

"Hey!" TJ greeted, falling out of a turn upon seeing her.

"Sorry about stealing you away from Cyrus," Lucy said apologetically, pulling on a pale pink tutu and sitting to wrap her toes and put on her pointe shoes.

"I don't really think you did, actually," TJ said, watching Lucy pull a pair of pointe shoes out of her bag.

"What do you mean 'I didn't steal you away'?" TJ shrugged, sitting down to wrap a few of her toes in toe tape and band-aids and cover her blisters in second skin squares.

"He asked why I was leaving, so I told him what happened between you and Buffy- some of it. I told him she overstepped her bounds, and he immediately jumped to her defense. Long story short- I'm pretty sure the Kippen triplets are now in a rivalry with the Good Hair Crew."

"The what?!" Lucy asked, pulling on toe pads and putting a pointe shoe on each foot. TJ laughed as he moved to lace up one of the shoes, explaining that that was the name the trio of best friends had adopted.  "Jesus fuck."

"Like 7 hours in Shadyside and we're already in a trio v. trio battle," TJ said, rolling his eyes and helping Lucy up and toward the center of the floor.

"This got so out of hand so fast," Lucy groaned, letting TJ square her hips as she started to warm up.

"She probably thought you were hiding something," TJ shrugged, picking Lucy up in an all too effortless fish dive.

"No shit, Sherlock. I am hiding something!"

"You know, fair enough honestly," TJ snorted. He picked up his phone from the shelf next to the door, connecting to studio #12's Bluetooth. "What are we doing today?"

"I dunno yet... You choose." Lucy could nearly hear TJ's smirk as he pressed play, King of the Clouds flooding over the room through the speakers in the corner. "Has anyone ever told you you're insane?"

"Eh, you and Ambs never fail to remind me."

TJ circled behind Lucy, grabbing her by the waist and tossing her into the air. She landed gracefully on his shoulder, one leg crossed over the other, and didn't stop moving until the end of the song.

They took on new character archetypes as Emperor's New Clothes came on, immediately morphing into self-absorbed monarchs in a battle for power. The triplets had been able to improvise any routine together since they were 13, down to every turn and toss.

“Uh, Luce?” TJ said as the song faded out, gesturing to her pointe shoes. Lucy groaned as he paused the music, looking down to find her fears realized - she’d bled through her shoes. Again. Rolling her eyes, she tugged them off, rolling her tights up and abandoning several of the already bloodied bandages she’d put on and her red stained toe pads.

“Can you grab a new pair from my bag?” TJ hummed, tossing her a pair of pointe shoes and a handful of band-aids.

Kneeling in front of her, he helped her clean her wounds and bandage them. The process of band-aids, second skin squares, toe pads, tights, then lacing up her pointe shoe ribbons, was repeated, and then she was standing and testing out her balance on the new pair of shoes.

“Ready?” TJ asked, taking her hand as she carefully tested her penché. She shrugged, prancing a few times before landing in first position.

“As I’ll ever be.”

Despite the new set of shoes, Lucy falling out of an attitude turn halfway through their routine was not expected. TJ stopped what he was doing, following Lucy's gaze to where the entire Good Hair Crew stood, watching them dance.

"I feel unsafe," he whispered, lips barely moving.

"Where's Ambs?" she responded, still making eye contact with Buffy through the glass.

"I have no idea, but I'm just gonna pretend they're not there," TJ shrugged, tugging Lucy back into the center of the floor as another song started.

"You're alright." A voice cut through the song, prompting Lucy to roll her eyes and turn toward Buffy, who'd just stepped into the studio.

"We know. Actually, sorry, slip of the tongue. We're better than alright." She crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow at Buffy.

"I certainly hope you're not planning on trying out for the Grant dance team."

"And why, pray tell, might that be?"

"Because I'm captain," Buffy said with a smirk.

"Yeah, okay. I don't need your team," Lucy informed her, head cocked to one side. TJ watched as she puckered her lips, taking a silent step back.

"What, and we need you? I don't think so," Buffy snarled, stepping toward Lucy.

"I'd advise you to be very careful with your next words," Lucy said slowly, narrowing her eyes.

"Oh really? What are you gonna do? Hit me with a pointe shoe?" Buffy mocked. Lucy shook her head, eyes sparkling with mirth as she laughed coldly.

"No, I'm not."

"Then what?" Naturally, Lucy did the only thing she could think of.

Lucy Kippen slapped Buffy Driscoll.

[fly-pow-bye]

DuckTales 2017 - “Treasure of the Found Lamp!”

Story by: Francisco Angones, Madison Bateman, Colleen Evanson, Christian Magalhaes, Bob Snow

Written by: Christian Magalhaes

Storyboard by: Jean-Sebastien Duclos, Mike Morris, Sam King

Directed by: Jason Zurek

Part 1 of the big catch-up!

This episode's title is going to bring our hopes up a lot, since it's an outright reference to Treasure of the Lost Lamp, the movie for the original DuckTales. I am sorry to admit, I did not watch that movie. I will defend myself by saying that most of this cartoon's target audience is not familiar with it, either.

With that aside, let's see what this reboot does with a certain character from that movie, as the episode starts out with him.

We see this cloaked man making a long trek, traveling through a desert via a motorcycle, sneaking into a boat, and jumping across trees. It's a pretty powerful opening, I'm not going to lie, these are some pretty dynamic scenes, and a great introduction to this character.

It turns out that this stranger was heading towards the McDuck Manor, as he reveals himself to a red hat/sleeping cap hybrid wearing boy brushing his teeth. I did learn two things: ducks do have serrations on their bills that happen to look like teeth, and Googling "duck teeth" is not recommended. Huey is so used to this, that he immediately calls for Uncle Scrooge to ask what his visitor wants. Cue the theme song.

The next morning, they all gather together for this intruder to introduce himself. This is the reboot's version of Dijon, or Faris Djinn as he's called here. From what I've heard, not only does he has a very different personality and morality from the original, he's not even the original character in-name-only. Let's just say he never loses his pants in this one. He did lose one thing, though.

)

TThe main point of him being here is that he was sworn to protect the Lamp of the First Genie, a clear reference to the titular lamp from the old movie, and he needs to find it. The major difference is this journey to get the lamp was already done, as Scrooge found the lamp and placed it somewhere in his manor. That's why this episode is called Treasure of the Found Lamp, after all.

We see Louie and Scrooge trying to find it somewhere deep in the garage. Louie does manage to find a chest filled with a bunch of lamps, including the Ferryman's Flame, a lamp that acts as a portal to the land of the dead. Unlike most of the items he has found, Scrooge found nothing supernatural about the lamp, and saw it as a mere "cheap bobble". Djinn seems to disagree throughout the episode, which does add some intrigue to the object of the week.

Once Scrooge gives a description, Louie at least recognizes what it could be. That's the good news, and the bad news can be read right from his worried facial expression. They decide to tell Djinn at least the partial truth: they lost the lamp.

Yeah, that was not what he wanted to hear, as he starts to slash through the house, saying he'll raise this home for it, brick by brick! I love this guy's dramatic flair, and I won't be alone even in-universe. Left with no choice, Scrooge and the kids decide to come up with a story he would accept. In short: it must have been stolen by the Greek gods! It's clear they're making this up on the fly...

...but Djinn buys it completely, and, not phased by the aspect of having to travel all the way to Ithaquack to get it, begins the great fake quest for the Lamp. The real quest will be put on the triplets, because Scrooge reveals to them and the viewers that Louie told him he sold it.

While he's away at Ithaquack, the triplets are tasked to do the actual quest for the lamp, which won't nearly be as fantastic. It's like this mystery, where people have these alibis of what happened, and the first stop is Louie.

Louie decided to take the lamp, because Scrooge didn't care about lamps without genies or portals to the dead in them, and decided to sell it at a garage sale. About a few minutes into this garage sale, he gets bored, so he decided to give the job to Duckworth. I would think having a ghost would scare away many potential customers, but that's Louie for you. Huey scolds him for being so lazy, while Dewey makes this prose about having to confront the soul without a soul. He's desperate to find a role in this episode, and trying to act like Djinn is not a bad one.

If only there was some mystical item that can guide them through it, like a flame of some sort. Louie might have an idea about one, and I'm glad to see it wasn't just some random gag that didn't really have a joke.

They make it to Ithaquack, and Webby guides them. Djinn seems to take all of this seriously, as if this kid knows all the secrets. Well, she mostly does, but he wouldn't know that. To him, the Ifrit’s Dawn is coming, and if he doesn't have the lamp, the consequences will be dire. Mostly in his words, he has this dramatic flair throughout the episode.

One major aspect of this episode is that there's a few returning characters in this, including Selene, the Goddess of the Moon, who decided to take the job as an actress for this charade. She had a big deadly temple, and she had to use it. She's not the only one, either.

Turns out, Charybdis is happy to play a part in this charade, too. You know, the big monster that turned out to be a nice person once people don't want the sword he was guarding. He's not a good actor, as he constantly has to ask for his lines from Webby. Eventually, this leads to Djinn, unphased by his poor acting but phased by his stalling, desperately slashing at this monster, while the monster complains that this wasn't a part of the script. Selene doesn't seem to be good at improv, either, seems to be a thing with the residents here.

While Scrooge, Webby, and anyone they can coax into this elaborate stalling can deal with Djinn, the triplets use their plan to get Duckworth to tell them his side of the story: use that Ferryman's Flame from a few scenes ago! See, there was a point to showing that. After accidentally unleashing a dragon, mostly so there would be some sort of tease before the commercial break, Duckworth appears.

Duckworth: (in his demon form) How dare you interrupt my long overdue vacation!

However, he does regain his composure and his usual form once they ask about the lamp. He tells his story.

He says this fellow bought it, with a $20 bill that managed to land right in his empty wallet right when he opened it. Even the triplets know only one guy has that much luck.

Gladstone Gander has been lucky enough, yeah, I had to say that, to be in a few cameo appearances, but this is the first time he gets more than that since his first episode. It wasn't like he was a likable character, intentionally so, but it's neat to see him back.

One of the best bits is when he offers the kids all of the valuables he accidentally came across, like winning lottery tickets, and a bunch of diamonds he found in a bag of ice, and Louie tells him there's no time for such things...as he pockets some of the diamonds.

He traded it to some rich kid with a treehouse with really, really sticky fingers. The triplets realize in fear of the only person that could possibly fit that description.

So yeah, the triplets parts can pretty much be summed up like this: the character does one gag, the triplets get their next big hint, go to the next location, repeat. It's more mundane than the other part, but it's not not nearly as interesting since everyone just gives them the information without much trouble.

Speaking of the other part, as Djinn got past the monster, Webby has moved on to the Appendix B of her great quest: the riddle of the Minotaur! Scrooge and Selene have to team up for this one, doing the classic "two people in the same suit" gag. They come up with a riddle so hard, Djinn couldn't possibly come up with the answer.

I am more powerful than the gods

more evil than the demons

the poor have me

the rich need me

and if you eat me, you shall die.

He may be naive enough to believe this is a minotaur and not a Halloween costume, but he proves almost immediately after being told this riddle that he's smart enough to know the answer to that one. I wouldn't want to spoil the answer to this riddle, so I'm saying nothing.

...

Aw, phooie.

I will say this episode does a decent job at balancing these two plots, though in different ways. There's more comedy in Djinn's parts, while the triplets just deal with...Doofus Drake. If one doesn't know, they completely changed Doofus's character to this weird spoiled and sheltered kid nobody wants to hang around with. He's not a pleasant character, needless to say, and their reactions to having to go to Doofus Drake's house give people who didn't watch his debut episode an idea of that.

Once we see him, he outright proves that idea, as he forces the boys to watch his hour-long Theremin performance, while his parents are forced to dance to it. It takes him a while to realize what they mean by "lamp", because he knew it syrup boat. Thankfully without any attempt to kidnap the boys to be his one true friend, he reveals that he threw it away, because his father's hands worked better. The context will not help you.

On the plus side, the triplets now have a good answer for Scrooge McDuck, because they know it must be at the junkyard, the home of the Beagle Boys. Well, okay, it usually goes to a landfill, but we do see a Beagle Boy on the truck, so it could be just a good assumption. It's a good thing they got to this, because his quiz is starting to run on Djinn's patience. It probably doesn't help that he's using a joke book now. It’s too bad we don’t hear how he solves those "riddles". "The chicken wanted to get to the other side, of course!"

Selene tells Djinn, reading from a card Scrooge gave her, that Ma Beagle stole it, and they have to go all the way back to Duckworth. It's funny how the Goddess of the Moon is relegated to poorly acting how the lamp was stolen while he was busy with the minotaur. After so many questions from a "Minotaur" who was definitely not stalling him, this poor acting, and how this "Ma Beagle" was able to sneak past him, does he buy it?

Short answer: yes, he does. Maybe he doesn't suspect a thing, or maybe the importance of getting the lamp outweighed everything else. One can interpret that in any way, really, though the former seems a little more likely.

They come up to the landfill/junkyard where the Beagle Boys live. As soon as Ma Beagle hears that this lamp is called the Lamp of the First Genie, her interest gets piqued immediately. She wants better kids, much to the chagrin of the Boys.

Djinn finds out that the lamp was discarded in the trash, and it is here that Djinn finally makes the connection that maybe that whole quest was just a diversion. He asks Scrooge if it was true, and Louie admits that it was, and that Scrooge tells him nothing.

Oh no, it's one of those Liar Revealed scenes. Got to prepare for that five minutes of moping, and then Djinn realizes, hey, the journey might have been bunk, but getting the lamp is more important.

Djinn: For the lamp!

(Djinn jumps down and attacks a Beagle Boy)

Okay, never mind, he thankfully skips to the end of that. He really wants that lamp, or dire consequences will happen! No time for moping!

A fight scene ensues between Djinn, Scrooge, and the Beagle Boys, including Big Time and Bouncer Beagle making appearances. It would have been cool to see the Tuggle Bums or the Black Arts Beagle, but sadly, there's just the generic red shirts. I don't believe I saw Burger either, maybe they couldn't find something for him to do.

Hmm, a lamp on top of a pile that looks like the hill Scrooge and Glomgold climbed up in the original's intro. One can easily guess where that is going, and that's not a bad aspect at all. Who manages to take the lamp? Is the lamp really supernatural? You’re just going to have to watch the episode for yourself. It did feel like a giant cop-out at first, but an explanation did make it a lot better.

How does it stack up?

I found this episode entertaining. Both plots led to interesting places and characters that were nice to see again, there's a lot of jokes I left out of this review that are pretty funny, and Djinn is a pretty good character with a bit of potential. I wouldn't wish for anything better.

Next, we see another character that hasn't been seen in a while.

← The Shorts 🦆 The Outlaw Scrooge McDuck! →

[impala-dreamer]

The Last Straw

SPN FanFic

~Sam takes things a little too serious, and all you really want out of life is a freakin’ cookie.~

Sam x Reader, Dean, surprise OC

3,495 Words 

Warnings: Supremely Fluffy with a hint of spicy Angst. But mostly disgustingly fluffy. Please brush your teeth afterwards. 

A/N: This is another gem for my ‘Give Em A Merry Christmas’ treasure chest. A shout out to @fandom-queen-of-wonderland who submitted an idea for a Dean x Reader with the line “All I want is Christmas is a gingerbread man and some peace and quiet!”. As you can see, it’s not Dean x Reader, but trust me, Dean is as sweet as a freshly baked blueberry pie in this. I hope you like it. Also, there is a surprise for one of my favorite followers in here. I’m not going to call her out, but I’m pretty sure she’ll pick up on it when it gets to that bit. ;) Hope you all enjoy!

Feedback is GOLD ~ My Masterlist ~ Christmas 2017 Fic Corral

Like many things in your crazy life, getting pregnant was not planned. Well, honestly, if you took it a bit further back, meeting and falling in love with Sam Winchester wasn’t planned either. Neither was getting into Hunting, or even being aware that all the things that went bump in the night actually did go bump in the night, but hey, it happened, but that’s a story for another day.

While you and Sam had no plan to officially marry, the unexpected news of the bun now occupying your oven was nonetheless welcomed. From the moment Sam had thoroughly absorbed the news, he went a little bit off the deep end helping you to prepare. Like the true nerd he was, Sam read every single baby book in the Lebanon Library, scoured the internet for information, even joined babycenter.com as Soon2BPapaWin2017. He stalked the message boards, chatted with expectant mothers, and dove headfirst into taking care of you and his future bundle of joy.

He was so adorable when researching baby gear, often spending late nights reading every review of his chosen product only to write it off in favor of something that looked just a tiny bit safer. He filled up his online shopping carts on Amazon and BabiesRUs with the best of the best, never buying anything, because he knew he could find better. He only wanted the best for his child, and in turn, you.

While Sam couldn’t protect you with rubber bumpers on table corners, or wrap you in bubble wrap, he could try to protect you in another, rather annoying way. Sam took it upon himself to get you healthy, and while he meant for the best, and you loved him for it, it was driving you nuts.

He had tried to insist that you stop hunting, but you slapped him so hard upon the first mention, that he didn’t bring it up again. It wasn’t until well into your seventh month that you voluntarily stayed back, not wanting to slow the guys down. The worst part, though, was that during the entire nine months of your pregnancy, Sam insisted you follow a strict diet that he concocted, filling you up with more vegetables and random vegan proteins than you had ever seen in your life. Add to that Sam guilting you into joining him in prenatal yoga, and taking no less than three walks a day while you were home, by your third trimester, you were done.

Through all your whining and discomfort, Sam was by your side, never letting you drink a single kale smoothie by yourself. He was getting you both healthy, and he practiced what he preached. While he was pushing every last one of your buttons, you did appreciate the love he put into every annoying thing he did.

Dean was another story altogether, and the soon to be uncle slowly became your best friend and savior, often sneaking you chocolate when you needed it most, and letting you fall asleep on him when Sam had pushed you an extra mile.

Both Winchesters were excited and happy for the next generation to arrive, but they went about showing their joy in rather opposite ways. Sam answered your complaints with offers of cocoa butter lotion and random science facts, while Dean would tuck a pillow under your back, flip on Netflix, and rub your tired feet. When watching you choke down green leafy things, Dean often jokingly promised to take you out for a steak dinner before the baby arrived, and it always pissed Sam off. He would throw his hands up and stalk away, mumbling to himself about how he was just trying to help and make sure everyone was healthy.

Sure, he was over the top and the food was disgusting, but he was just trying to help.

As Christmas rolled around, you found, much to your dismay, that you were rolling around too. Your ankles were swollen, your back ached, and your stomach shot out so far in front of you that it looked like you were having triplets.

Waddling through the Bunker in search of something to do that wouldn’t get you in trouble with the father to be, your nose picked up a deliciously warm, spicy scent and your feet turned towards the kitchen.

Nutmeg and ginger filled the air, making your stomach grumble as you floated towards the oven. Sam turned around to greet you with a kiss and a smile as he set a freshly cooled plate of cookies down on the counter.

“Hey, Baby,” he said, kissing your nose. “And Baby…” he smiled and bent down to kiss your giant belly.

Laughing at his goofy smile, you shook your head. “You’re gonna have to come up with a new pet name for at least one of us or it’ll be confusing.”

“Well that will depend on what Little Baby is,” he told you, gently rubbing a huge hand over the apex of your stomach. “Still don’t want to find out?”

“Nah,” you said with a tiny laugh. “I’m only doing this once, might as well keep the surprise.” Your smile faded to a deep grimace as the baby kicked hard, and Sam jumped in shock. His face lit up with such a smile as he felt his child press against his hand, that you couldn’t help but smile back.

“That’s so cool,” he said under his breath.

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, maybe for you. Little Winchester’s been kicking the shit out of me all day. He’s very aggressive. I think he takes after his uncle.”

“He?”

“Just a guess,” you shrugged and then licked your lips as you looked around Sam to the cookies not being eaten. “And, like his uncle, Baby is also hungry.”

“I made you a treat,” Sam grinned and went to grab the plate.

“I’m starving, thank you!” Happiness filled your soul as you looked down to see what appeared to be a plate of real, legitimate gingerbread men cookies. With an excited grin, you picked up the top cookie and lifted it to your nose, taking a sniff. It smelled right… but…

Sam watched carefully and without comment as you opened your mouth, but something in his eyes made you stop before the treat hit your tongue.

“Sam?”

“Yeah?”

“What’s in this cookie?”

An innocent laugh left his pink lips and Sam shook his head in shock. “What? Nothing.”

“Sam…”

“It’s good, trust me.”

Your eyes narrowed as you looked from the cookie to your boyfriend, not for one second believing his lie. Nine months of quinoa and spinach cakes had made you more than suspicious. Even being Christmas, there was no way that Sam was suddenly going to let you have a normal cookie.

“What’s in this cookie, Sam?”

“Just taste it.”

“Not until you tell me what it’s made of.”

“I’ll tell you after you taste it.”

The baby kicked again, clearly wanting some food, and so, after a deep breath, you closed your eyes, took a bite, and instantly spit it back out. “Oh good God, what is this?”

“Flax seed,” Sam laughed.

“What?” You wiped your mouth with your sleeve and stared up at him in pained shock.

“Flax seed. It’s good for you.”

A deep, burning anger rolled through your gut and pushed out from your lips with a screeching wail that echoed through the Bunker. “Dean!”

Boots pounded the hard floor as Dean flew through the hall, and he jumped down the kitchen steps, out of breath and panicked.

“Y/N! What is it? You gonna have the baby?”

“We’re gonna have a funeral!” you yelled, fists clenched as you stepped forward, scaring Sam enough so that he backed away slowly.

Dean gripped the wall, catching his breath as he assessed the situation. “What?”

“I’m about to murder your brother.”

Sam held his palms up in surrender as you came closer and closer. “Y/N/N, I’m just trying…”

“Don’t!” you shouted and shook a fist up at him. “Don’t you ‘Y/N/N’ me, Sam! This is all your fault! I’m fat and tired and starving and you won’t let me eat! I hate seeds! I hate salad! I want Indian food, goddammit! The baby wants pizza and Hostess cupcakes! You’re trying to kill me is what you’re doing! And now? This cookie?” You threw the offending gingerbread man at his head, barely missing him. Sam ducked and looked to his brother for help, but Dean stood in the doorway, smartly keeping his mouth shut. “How dare you! All I want for Christmas is a motherfucking Gingerbread Man and you gave me this! I hate you!”

Sam’s lips quivered in shock, struggling to find something to say that would soothe you, but there was nothing. He watched with sad puppy eyes as your rage turned to tears and your knees gave out. He tried to catch you as you sank to the floor, but you pushed him away, angry and tired.

“No! Leave me alone, Sam! This is the last straw! I can't...I can't…”

Finally, Dean moved from his place by the door and hurried to your side. He scooped you up without a word, and you gratefully fell into his flannel covered arms.

Ten minutes later, you were out cold on the couch, having passed out with your head on Dean's shoulder. Carefully, and with the finesse of a cat burglar, Dean slid out from underneath you and stretched.

Sam was in the doorway, watching with a frown. “She hates me,” he said as Dean pushed himself up from the sofa.

Dean shook his head and pressed a finger to his lips. “Shh!” Waving Sam out of the room he went on, “She doesn't hate you, Sam. It's like...hormones and shit. And the poor girl...dude, you gotta let her eat; she's starving.”

“She eats!”

“Rabbit food, man. She's eating for two and neither one of them likes tomatoes. And you know that and still you put tomatoes on everything. Also, seed cookies?” Dean hung his head in disgust. “It's Christmas, Sammy. How could you?”

Sam’s jaw twitched. “I'm just trying to do what's best. You don't know, Dean. You haven't read all the books, you don't know what could go wrong. Gestational diabetes, preeclampsia, placenta previa...You just don’t know!”

“Sam…”

“The baby could be breech! Do you have any idea what that means, Dean!” Sam’s hands swam through his hair as his eyes grew wide with worry. “Peripartum cardiomyopathy...she… she could have a friggin’ heart attack at any time!”

“Sammy…” Dean tried to snap Sam out of his rant, but the taller brother began to spin as his eyes darted about the room, seeming to read all the horrible things he’d seen on the air.

“That’s not even what could happen during labor! She could get an infection, she could bleed out! Just… die. You don’t understand, Dean. I have to keep her safe. I have to!”

“Damn it, Sammy, stop!” Dean grabbed Sam’s shoulder and jerked him to a halt. “Listen to me! You have to calm down. That’s all worst case stuff. Y/N is healthy, so is the baby. You’re the only one causing any problems.” Sam stared at him, silent and pained, but Dean sighed and went on. “Now, just relax. Nothing that could go wrong is gonna be fixed by force feeding your girlfriend plexiglass seeds or whatevers.”

“Flax.”

“What?”

“Flax. Flax seed.”

“Whatever,” Dean cringed. “The point is, you have got to let up. She’s miserable, can’t you see that?”

Sam pulled away enough to look over his shoulder at you. Your cheek was smushed against the seat, your hair a mess of sweat and tears. “She’s fine,” Sam argued. “Besides, we’ve only got a few weeks left.”

“Exactly, so why not let her enjoy it?”

Sam shook his head sternly and turned back to Dean. “No. I have to protect her, and this is the best way I can right now. This baby is…” He paused, not sure how to explain himself.

Dean filled the empty space. “It’s just a baby, Sam. People have them everyday. Sometimes more than one at a time.”

“No. You just don’t get it.” Sam gave up, and after a last look at your snoring face, he pushed passed Dean and set off in a huff. “And you can stop sneaking her Snickers when you think I’m not around, Dean.”

“Well, screw you too,” Dean muttered under his breath. “I’ll give her a damn Snickers if I want. This ain’t prison.”

You stirred on the couch, and Dean popped his head in the room to check on you. He would have attempted to carry you to bed, but you always hated that, and he was afraid he’d drop you now anyway.

“Dean?” You blinked into the dim light, woken by a ridiculously loud grumble in your tummy.

“Hey, Sweetheart, you want to go to bed?” Dean extended a hand, which you took, but shook your head, declining his offer.

“No,” you told him as you tugged his arm, pulling him down close to you. “What I want… what I need… is meat.”

Dean laughed and bent closer to kiss your forehead. “I know, Y/N. I’m sorry.”

“No, Dean, I’m serious.” You lifted your chin to look him straight in the eyes and took a fistful of his shirt between your fingers. “I need you to break me out of here. You’ve been saying for months you’re gonna take me to a steakhouse. Come on, El Chapo, Today’s the day!”

“Y/N/N…” Dean’s hand closed around your fist and he patted your fingers gently. “We can’t. Sam’s just being…”

“Nuts,” you cut in. “He’s insane. Do you know he makes me take this giant vitamin every morning? It’s the size of a golf ball, Dean.” Tears were springing up behind your eyes as you begged him to help you. “And I have to wash it down with… he calls it milk, but goddammit, Dean, it didn’t come from no cow. You gotta help. If I smell another blade of wheatgrass I’m gonna cut my nose off. Please. You gotta help me.”

You could tell you’d won in the way his shoulders dropped. Dean sighed and bit his lip, looking down at you with such sympathy it tugged at your heart. Sure, you were pathetic, but that was your card to play right now. It wasn’t as if you were milking it, Sam was literally torturing you with all the health food. For the last three weeks you’d been dreaming of oreos; that couldn’t be normal.

With one last pitiful pout, you whispered your prayer to the green-eyed superhero you called friend. “Please, Dean.”

“If he finds out, he’s gonna kill me.”

“It’s just a burger, Dean. What could go wrong?”

The steakhouse was not open, as it was nearly one in the morning on Christmas Eve, but Millie’s Diner was open all night.

You sat sideways in the booth because your belly wouldn’t fit, but you couldn’t care less about how you looked. Dean ordered a giant meal for you both, and you matched him bite for bite. The fries were overdone and deliciously crispy. The milkshake was cold and divine. The burger… you couldn’t find a word for it. Your brain frizzled when the rare meat and melted cheese hit your tongue, and all you could do was close your eyes and sigh happily. Dean watched you with a smile as you devoured your dinner, and even gave you a strip of bacon right off his burger. “For the baby,” he said with a wink. You didn’t care if it was for the baby, or your hips, you needed it all.

Smacking your lips, you sat back with a satisfied grin and rubbed your belly. “Thank you, dude. That was amazing.”

Dean mirrored your pose, right down to the belly rub. “It was. Good idea, Y/N/N.”

A flash of pain wrapped around your middle and you cringed as it stopped your breath. “Ow.”

Dean’s head snapped up from his plate where he’d been eyeing a drop of cheese that had been left behind. “You OK?”

You nodded quickly and shifted a bit in the seat. “Yeah, this table is just uncomfortable.”

“Well,” Dean laughed. “We could have sat at the counter, but you’re a little off balance lately.”

“Shut up,” you laughed and then tensed up as another wave of pain circled your belly. “Ouch!”

“Y/N/N…”

Dean sat forward, eyeing you suspiciously, but you waved him off. “Just indigestion,” you assured him. “I’m good.” You hissed at another stabbing pain, this one harder and coming up from below. “Gaah!”

“OK, that’s not OK, Y/N.” Dean scooted to the end of his seat and moved to stand up.

“No! No! Sit.” You took a deep breath and forced a smile. “I’m good.” Another crackle of daggers around your sides. “Fuck!” You gasped but kept your lips lifted in a smile that was nothing short of creepy now. “Pie? They have pie. Let’s get pie.”

“Sweetheart, the only thing we’re getting is you to the hospital.” Dean finally stood up and had your elbow in his hand, trying to urge you up.

“No, no hospital. I’m fine.” The last word came out on the end of a scream that turned every head in the brightly lit diner. “Dean! I think I’m in labor.”

“Yeah, Y/N/N, I know.” Dean picked you up and slung your arm around his shoulder, carefully guiding you to the exit. He paused to hand the waitress some cash, who basically pushed you both out of the door.

“Dean!”

“Oh, Sam is gonna kill me.”

Sam probably would have killed you both, but all of his anger, fear, and months of worry faded away when he held his daughter in his arms. Tessa Rose was born on Christmas Eve after an exhausting seventeen hours of labor. She was soft and squirming, already a loud and feisty Winchester as she cried as Sam tried to adjust her against his chest. He’d read every book ever written on infants, but holding the newborn, his newborn, was something he was not prepared for.

You lay in bed, slipping in and out of sleep, watching with a pain-killer induced smile as Sam struggled in the chair next to your bed. His face was twisted with nerves, but his eyes were calm and happy. Finally, Tessa found a spot that she seemed to like, and fell asleep against her daddy’s chest. Sam rocked gently side to side and looked over at you with a truly contented smile.

“You did a great job, Mommy,” he said.

“Well, I had help.”

Sam frowned and let out a sigh. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I went a little…”

“Psycho Father To Be?” you laughed. “Yeah, I noticed.” Sam nodded sadly and looked away, but you sat up and reached for his hand. “Hey, Sam, I get it. It’s OK. I love you. You’re gonna be an amazing dad. You just have to learn to go with the flow.”

Sam smiled and fit his fingers through yours. “I’ll try.”

“That’s all I ask.”

Dean appeared in the doorway and cleared his throat. “OK, can we roll the credits on this RomCom? I want to see my niece.”

“Come on in.” Sam sat up and gently lifted Tessa from her spot, showing her off to Dean.

“Oh, she is… awesome.” Dean grinned and took the baby in his arms, smiling down at the perfectly chubby cheeks and dusting of brown hair. Tessa popped open her eyes and batted her delicate lashes, instantly wrapping her uncle around her finger. Dean kissed her forehead and then set her down on the bed. “I got a you a present, Tessa.”

Sam climbed into bed with you and you snuggled together as Dean pulled a red velvet Christmas stocking from his jacket. Before you could stop him, Dean pulled the sock up over Tessa’s legs, and the baby sank down into it, her chin popping up over the white faux fur.

“Dean, what are you doing to my baby?” you asked from your spot under Sam’s arm.

Dean laughed to himself and snapped a picture of your festively swaddled daughter. “That one’s going on the fridge.”

“Take it off,” Sam said with a laugh.

“Why?” Dean picked Tessa up and held her aloft. “She’s the best Christmas present ever.”

“She is, isn’t she?” Sam echoed, and pulled you close. “Merry Christmas, Y/N.”

“Merry Christmas, Sam.” You looked up and placed a warm kiss on his lips. “Merry Christmas, Dean,” you added, looking over at the giddy man holding a stocking full of baby.

Dean shifted Tessa to lay in the crook of his arm, and kissed the tip of her tiny nose. “God bless us,” he said softly. “Every one.”

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[vivikawidow]

I was told to stay away. I was warned by those closest to me. I was even warned by those who had a hand in running the place but I couldn’t leave it behind. The mayor of Coldford City had gone missing. I followed his trail of sleaze and embezzlement to a cabaret club called the KNOCK KNOCK CLUB Located in the poorest part of the city known as the SHANTIES, It was his last known whereabouts apart from his own home.

As I knocked on that door a whole new world opened up to me, exposing the true filth that ran underneath the Shady City.

I lost my wife, I lost my home and I lost my focus on everything I knew to be right as I continued to linger in the darkness of the KNOCK KNOCK holding room. I lost a friend too, a good friend. She was gone before she even had her chance to tell me her part of the story, where she fit in. I thought I knew  MADELINE. We had worked together at the COLDFORD DAILY newspaper for a long time. In the Shady City though, people have so many different reflections of themselves.

Worst of all where the innocents lost. I watched on as a little girl named Sarah was shot. She hadn’t done anyone any harm. She was just a little kid. In a world where heroes disguised as villains rule and villains parade themselves as heroes it is hard to know who to trust.

I may have lost everything that was important to me but there is still one thing they can never take away and that is my story. My story will be told, even if it is with my last breath because when they strip me away from my friends, my family and my personal identity all that’s left is the reporter. The press can topple kings and queens. The press has the power to instil or remove belief in Gods should they choose. I had to use that kind of power for good and this is why I write now.

Looking back I could let the bitterness consume me but all I want is the truth. As the city rips itself apart, even when there’s nothing left but ashes, they will have to face that truth.

I’m even willing to face my own truth. I will face the things I never thought I was capable of. I will take responsibility for what I have done. The story will be told, no matter the consequences to me.

***

“Alright Lydia. Talk us through it.”

LYDIA LOWE peered out at the crowd that had gathered at the Knock Knock club that night.

“I can see the MACKS at their usual table,” she said. “I can see some of the other regular faces.”

“Do you see the BOSS LADY?” came the voice of KIM – Lydia’s mentor at the agency and the lead on this particular mission.

It had taken a long time to prepare to bring TABITHA in but the time had come. Lydia’s heart raced as the music began to fire up. Tonight was the night.

“I saw her earlier. She was at the bar with SIMON PENN,” she informed the team waiting close by for the opportunity to strike.

“We need to make sure she hasn’t left already,” the warm, masculine voice of Agent Reynolds came through.

“She’s here somewhere,” Lydia assured. “She never leaves when the stage is set.”

The music was getting louder. The crowd were becoming excited.

“I have to go on stage,” said Lydia, still under the guise of a KNOCK KNOCK GIRL until such times as the mission was complete.

“Go get em’ girl,” Reynolds cheered. “You bring that thunder.” The cheer in his voice calmed Lydia’s nerve. They had spent a lot of resources preparing to bring Tabitha down. There was a lot riding on Lydia’s final performance at the club.

The crowd applauded as Lydia strutted onto the stage. Distracted by her toned body, her pretty face they didn’t realise the danger that loomed outside. Lydia knew how to draw their focus with her natural finesse. It was why she had been chosen for the mission. Going under cover at the club was not going to be easy but Kim needed someone capable and whom she could trust.

The warm stage lights burned down on her but Lydia managed to turn herself so she could see up onto the balcony. There she was, wearing her signature red dress. Unimpressed, Tabitha knew the crowds loved Lydia. It was the only reason she had managed to penetrate the club as far as she had. Even Paddy Mack, head of the Mack clan that supplied booze to the club, choose to share a pint with the bubbly Knock Knock girl from BOURNTON rather than the Boss Lady herself. It stirred enough of Tabitha’s jealousy to keep the agent under the radar as the club willingly opened up to her.

“I see her,” said Lydia discretely. “I have a visual. I repeat, I have a visual.”

She hoped they had heard.

***

The wave began from outside and spread inwards. Before taking to the stage Lydia had unlocked the alley way door. It was the only other entrance to the club besides the main one. COLDFORD POLICE Detective HICKES accompanied by CPD officers could close in without the risk of breaching the main entrance. If all went awry they could pull back at short notice. There was no telling how dangerous the Knock Knock club could get.

There would be no mercy that night. Everyone at the club was a potential threat. No one would be presumed innocent.

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       ***

Simon Penn – the middle of the Penn triplets –  had sensed a commotion. He was the one sent to retrieve me as I tried to escape the club with little Sarah.

His brother, Marcus, had given a lot to Knock Knock so a lot was at stake for the Auction House the Penn family owned too. The Penn family (triplets MARCUS, Simon and REGGIE and their mother Rita) were the self proclaimed rulers of City Main with the AUCTION HOUSE as their base.

“I’m going to take a look around,” said Simon to Tabitha. Her focus was still on Lydia on the stage.

“You do that Si,” she replied absent mindedly. “Look at that scabby whore thinking she brings the thunder,” she groaned. “We all know who really brings the thunder.”

She turned to Simon who was giving her a perplexed look.

“What thunder?”

Tabitha scoffed. “You’re such a boy sometimes.”

Simon raised his eyebrows in exasperation. “Something’s not right. I’m going to check it out.”

Tabitha leaned on the balcony. “Fine, off you pop,” she said.

Meanwhile, down below, Lydia’s routine was driving the crowd into a frenzy.

***

Simon made his way from the balcony deep into the heart of the club. He heard footsteps. He concealed himself behind the wall as Agent Reynolds slowly manoeuvred to the main body of the club. Simon waited patiently for him to draw closer. When the time for retreat was minimal he leapt out of the shadows. WHACK. PUNCH. SMACK.

The middle Penn was a champion boxer, known as PUNCH LINE PENN. Reynolds was put to the canvas quickly. Simon charged on to the main entrance to see what other danger was trying to penetrate the fortress.

***

GET OUT. The message read. Simon had been right. Something had been amiss. CPD were now closing in and closing in fast. Tabitha suspected she knew who had been responsible although petulance was probably still driving her suspicions at that point. If she had truly been suspect of Lydia before then the agent would never had lasted long at the club. However, her instincts were correct and the Knock Knock Boss Lady hadn’t gotten as far as she had without good instincts.

“Mother fucking cunt waving slut!” she growled to herself. She had no time to waste. She had to leave and like a castle under siege the queen fled to fight another day.

***

Outside, a cool night breeze danced around Simon Penn’s face. The door closed behind him. He needed to buy Tabitha some time to get away. At the end of the alley way stood Kim – Lydia’s long time friend. She was alone. They weren’t pulling the CPD team just yet.

“Stay right there,” warned the middle triplet.

Kim sighed. “Don’t be a fool. You know it’s over. Come quietly and make it easier on yourself.”

Simon raised his eyebrows and laughed. “You seem pretty sure of yourself.”

Refusing to be drawn in Kim kept her composure.

“You probably don’t realise just how fucked you are right now so I’ll give you one last chance. Come quietly.” She strolled towards him casually as though she was approaching him for directions.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” she urged.

Simon put his hands behind his back and leaned against the door.

Simon’s fists clenched. His expression fell into an animalistic sneer. Kim knew it wouldn’t be as easy as just asking nicely but she had to hold the Penn where he was until her CPD support arrived so he couldn’t get back to Tabitha.

Simon spat on the ground. He tensed his shoulders and cracked his neck.

Time was running out. Whilst things continued inside the club, Tabitha could very well be making her bid to slip out of their grasp.

“I’m not going anywhere,” growled Simon as he brought himself to his full height to intimidate her.

Kim remained unmoved. “And I told you you’re coming in one way or another.”

“I’ll knock you on your ass if you don’t back the fuck off,” Simon snarled.

“I’m hoping to God you take a swing at me because I’m looking for any excuse.”

Tension was building. Simon was obviously playing for time too. It was then Kim realised had already warned Tabitha. Kim couldn’t let the Boss Lady get away and ruin the work her agents had put in getting to this point.

“Reynolds is badly beaten. He’s going to need medical attention,” Hickes’ voice came through Kim’s ear piece. “We’re searching for Tabitha.”

Simon’s frustration pushed him. He swung a left hook at her but luckily she managed to dodge it. By the time she had corrected herself he was raining another down on her. She pushed him back but his firm footwork found him lunging forward again, this time with the right fist. The second blow she managed to dodge. Her luck was wearing thin. She had to get inside. She didn’t know how badly hurt Agent Reynolds was or if Tabitha was slipping away.

Simon rained the punches in hard and fast, refusing to hold back any of the precision or strength he used in the boxing ring. He was however, beginning to lose discipline as Kim dodged his punches before finally blocking his right arm and in an unexpected use of the South Paw. She caught him on the chin as promised, sending him falling to the canvas that was Clifton Alley.

What Simon didn’t know was Kim was the daughter of a great boxer known as the Bournton Blizzard. He had taught his daughter everything he knew before a particularly gruelling eleven rounds in the ring with Punchline Penn left him paralysed.

“I did warn you,” said Kim as Simon grunted and started to pick himself back up.

He spat again. “You fucking bitch!” he growled with real venom.

Voices chattered at the end of the alley as more CPD officers arrived on scene to help.

“You boys took your time,” Kim barked at them. The officers surrounded her. She looked to Simon. “As for you, I’ll have to give you your second round some other time.”

***

As Tabitha fled the scene she saw the members of her club beaten brutally as CPD pillaged Knock Knock. A Knock Knock girl named Polly was being pulled deeper into the alley by her hair.

She was screaming, “leave me alone!”

She was a nice girl. She was just looking to make a living for her and her daughter Freya so she shared bar work with Lisa. She was one of Tabitha’s first appointments when she took control. Hiring her was her first real decision as Boss Lady.

Tabitha growled. There was nothing she could do to help her people in that moment but she made note. She wouldn’t forget and CPD would pay for harming her members and her girls.

CPD had gained control of the area but there was still no sign of Tabitha. Lydia was dressing whilst Hickes offered a quick report of the events as they had unfolded whilst she coordinated from the Knock Knock stage.

“We have some of the MACKS in custody,” he said. “As well as Simon Penn.”

Lydia slipped into a pair of trousers. “What about Tabitha?” She asked.

“We’re still searching the area. She has to be in here somewhere.”

Lydia frowned and shook her head. “Unless she has managed to slip past.”

The agent visualised the area in her head. There had been part of the team assigned to the back that led to the street where Tabitha parked her car. The commotion that poured from the club in that direction Tabtiha could have used to her advantage.

Lydia finished dressing. “Finish cleaning up here,” she ordered. “I’m not letting her get away. Not after everything we’ve been through to bring her in.” Surrounded by the rough brick and walking on the sticky floors it seemed the CPD were bringing Knock Knock to order. Being inside the castle meant little without the rebel queen in captivity.

***

“That bitch!” Tabitha screamed clutching her steering wheel. She heard Lydia’s bike draw closer to her. Looking in the rear view mirror confirmed it. The Knock Knock girl now pursuing agent was closing in.

The people of the Shanties watched on as their queen departed in a flash of a red sports vehicle.

“Get out of the way!” Tabitha cried to a couple who lingered close to the road, probably making their way to the club without realising what had transpired. “I will knock you the fuck down!”

The couple fell back out of the route. Watching, bewildered as the red car that was so distinct and so well known in the area that even the most desperate or daring of car thieves wouldn’t touch. It was one of the few luxury vehicles that could sit in the poorest area of the city without being damaged or stolen. The plates that read 8O55 LADY were enough deterrent. Even the Penns were dropped off and picked back up by town cars from the Auction House whenever they had business in the Shanties.

As fast and as fancy as Tabitha’s car could be it wasn’t enough to shake off the pursuit of agent Lydia Lowe.

Tabitha brought the car to a halt. Lydia had the briefest windows of opportunity to decide if Tabitha was giving up. ‘No,’ she thought. ‘That would be too easy.’ She was right.

Tabitha threw the car into reverse and it charged towards Lydia. Tabitha gave a maniacal laugh at the thought of running her over.

“Not bringing the thunder now, are you?” she cheered.

Luckily Lydia was able to leap to safety. Tabitha’s car sped off again towards an expanse of waste land that was the outskirts of the Shanties. It was up to Lydia to stop her escaping. If she managed to get away the chaos at the club would be for nothing, Reynolds’ injuries would be for nothing.

She hopped onto her bike again and sped off. She took her gun, focusing on balance and precision. She fired once, catching the back tyre of Tabitha’s car. She fired a second time before the car fell into a spin and caught the right tyre. Tabitha had no choice but to bring the car to a stop.

She screamed like a spoiled child in a tantrum, stamping her feet and slamming the palms of her hands against the steering wheel. She caught sight of Lydia approaching with caution. Her gun was still drawn.

“Let’s see how you like a bullet in your butt ugly face, whore,” Tabitha said feeling a little giddy. She reached into the glove compartment and retrieved her own gun. No bullets. “Are you fucking kidding me with this?”

She dropped the gun to the floor. If Lydia saw her with it in her hand she would open fire. Instead she looked in the mirror, checked her make up and fixed her hair. She pushed the button and the window slowly whirred open.

“Is there a problem officer?” she asked with a grin

Well the Boss Lady has found herself in a spot of bother with the law.

Episode 12: GOING DOWN will be available to download from the 9th of August.

Can’t wait?

Why not look back at Volume 1?

Available to download or free to read here at http://www.vivikawidow.com

Volume 1 of the hit graphic novel series is free to read HERE on Vivika Widow Online or you can download for kindle by clicking HERE.

KNOCK, KNOCK: Episode 1: Welcome to the Club

Knock, Knock: Episode 2: Don’t Come Knockin’

Knock, Knock: Episode 3: Sleep Tight Sam

Knock, Knock: Episode 4: Take A Bow

Knock, Knock: Episode 5: A Room With A View

Knock, Knock: Episode 6: Picking Up Strange Women

Knock, Knock: Episode 7: No Kids Allowed

Knock, Knock: Episode 8: Kids These Days

Knock, Knock: Episode 9: Shootin’ The Breeze

Knock, Knock: Episode 10: Calling Last Orders

We at the Knock Knock club are all about having a good time so let us know what you thought. Visit our social media pages for exclusive images, chat and maybe even a cute cat video.

  The graphic novel returns and some true faces are about to show themselves. I was told to stay away. I was warned by those closest to me. I was even warned by those who had a hand in running the place but I couldn't leave it behind.