#I know there’s that other moment where Rodney’s cleaning out his room too

[autistic-danieljackson]

You know what else upsets me? I’m in season 6 of SG-1 so I just watched the episode where Daniel ascended. And I understand that his being written out had a reason and also the way they did it I don’t feel like it was undermined when he does eventually return so like yes I miss him but not angry about it(also it helps that I really like Jonas but anyway not the point I’m making right now). But while they think he’s dying, each of the team members gets a moment with him to say how much they love him and how much he means to them. And then even though he hasn’t actually died, we see them mourn him even going into season 6. And I understand the situations were different but I feel like Carson really didn’t get the memorialization he deserved. Like sure we get to see Elizabeth say some nice words at his memorial and then there’s the end moment with Rodney but then it’s just kind of…over. And don’t even get me started on how angry clone Carson makes me. Like ‘oh here’s your beloved doctor back sort of but not really.’ I am honestly so heated over this.

[ragingpancake]

I Got You

A/N: I watched Echoes the other night and frankly, I just needed to write this. Sort of an unofficial sequel to The Road to Nowhere Leads to Me.

They’re almost back to Atlantis from the mainland when Rodney realizes that maybe something’s a bit off with Sheppard – er… John (and he has to remind himself to start calling Shep—John by his first name because this whole… thing between this is still relatively new and it’s probably not social acceptable for one to refer to one’s boyfriend by last name only). No one would ever really call him chatty, but this level of quietness is almost unsettling, especially when Rodney tries to goad him into some gentle bantering and he’s just not having it. “What’s wrong with you?” He asks finally as the city is just coming into view. “Huh?” Rodney squints, mouth turning down in a frown. “I certainly didn’t stutter, Colonel.” Maybe that’ll get his attention.

He waits a moment, and then two. Nope. Nada. The lights are on but nobody’s home. “… John.”

At that, John lifts a hand and presses the heel of it against one of his eyes, wincing and Rodney notices for the first time how not well the other actually looks. “I’ve just… got this killer headache that won’t go away,” he says and it actually sounds pained in a way that Rodney isn’t quite used to from him. He watches as John squints at the city in the distance. “Maybe I should take over?” For a split second, he thinks John might be considering it before he shakes his head. “Nah, s’alright. I know how much you struggle to fly in a straight line.” There’s the smallest hint of teasing in his voice but Rodney doesn’t rise to the challenge because it’s such a weak attempt on John’s part that he knows he’d absolutely assassinate John with a comeback and where’s the fun in that? “Are you sure? Because, because I’ve been in one of these things when it’s crashed into the water, if you remember correctly, and I really have no intention of repeating that, so if you aren’t feeling well, I’d rather just--.” “Rodney,” John says and now, there’s a trace of a bite to his tone. Wow. Hostile. “Okay, I’m just saying--.” “I know,” John says. “But it’s fine. I’ve got it.” Rodney resigns himself to believing that for about a split second until he glances over again and notices the blood dripping from John’s nose. “John--.” “Dammit, Rodney! I said I’m--.” And whatever lie John was about to tell dies on his lips as he slumps over, head smacking the console. Immediately, Rodney leaps into action, grabbing John before he slips out of the pilot’s chair to ease him down onto the floor, his head lulling to the side sickeningly. “Jumper 1, this is Atlantis, come in. Your course has drastically shifted.” Radek’s voice comes through the comm system in the jumper and Rodney suddenly realizes that no one is, you know, actually piloting. “I need a medical team to the Jumper Bay. Sheppard is down, I repeat, Sheppard is down.” He scrambles into the pilot’s chair and manages to jerk it upwards approximately three point five seconds before the jumper crashes into the ocean. “Rodney?” It’s Elizabeth’s voice now, and she sounds about as worried as Rodney feels. “Carson’s here. What happened?” “Can’t talk now! Trying to fly and not, you know, crash and send us both to our deaths in the horrifically vast ocean. Been there, done that, got the t-shirt.” “Rodney!” “Just have them standing by!” He cuts off the comm system and glances down at John who has not yet regained consciousness. “Please be okay, please be okay, please be okay.” It becomes his mantra as he somehow manages to navigate the jumper back to the city and into the bay. He barely has time to lower the door before a med team is swarming in and before Rodney has a chance to so much as breathe, they’re gone, John with them. There’s a small bit of blood on the floor from where John was laying and Rodney has to work very hard not to throw up. ---- It’s dark in the hallway, save for the faint blue glow emanating from the center of the wall closest to him. He reaches out, hand pressing against it and he can feel the thrum of hurt intensifying, adding to what’s already there in his head. He staggers at the force of it, drops to his knees and presses the heels of his hands against his eyes in an attempt to stave off the pounding of his head. But this isn’t his hurt, he realizes after a moment. It’s hers, and that thought alone is enough to force him back to his feet, hand reaching out to touch that blue light again. This time, he feels an almost burning heat fanning out from the center of his hand as the blue expands and he watches as it begins to creep across the wall, almost as if it’s beckoning him to follow. He’s never been good at following orders and he has the record to prove it, but he finds his feet moving, seemingly of their own accord, allowing the glow to lead him down the darkened hallway for what seems like forever until it stops, finally, at a room he doesn’t quite recognize. “Why am I here?” Because I need your help, she answers

back, the words cool and gentle within his mind. Find me, John Sheppard. Before it’s too late. “Before what’s too late? What are you trying to tell me?” But she’s already receding from his mind and all he’s left with is a light so bright that penetrates the darkness as John opens his eyes. --- Rodney’s there when John finally comes to under the bright lights of the infirmary. “Oh thank God,” he says as he slumps back into the chair, running a hand across his forehead. “Far be it from me to say I told you so, but--.” He doesn’t get a chance to finish before John is sitting up so quickly that it makes Rodney a bit dizzy, kicking the blankets off of his legs. “Whoa, whoa, whoa.” He stands up, pressing a hand to John’s shoulder to ease him back down onto the mattress and Ronon is on the other side of the bed, doing the same. “Where do you think you’re goin’?” The Satedan asks in his natural rumble. “I have to help her,” John says and Rodney suddenly finds himself a bit miffed at that. “Help who?” He asks and if he sounds a little pissy, he thinks he’s probably allowed because you know, he’s the one been sitting at John’s bedside for the last several hours, worried very much about the possibility of brain damage and now that he’s awake, the first thing he mentions is some second rate harlot and--. “The city,” he rasps and he grabs Ronon’s wrist, trying to force it off of him. “Something’s wrong with the city.” “What? The city is fine,” Rodney says, but he’s reaching for his tablet anyway, pulling up the city schematics to scan over quickly, searching for any indication that something was not right. “See?” He says, and he turns the tablet to face John so he can see for himself. “The back up teams cleaned everything up nicely, there’s absolutely nothing that would indicate--.” “Rodney,” he says and there’s an almost wild look in his eyes as he glances up at the scientist, seemingly pleading with him to just listen. “They missed something. There’s something wrong, we have to--.” “Aye,” Carson greets, a smile on his face. “There ya are. Ya had us quite worried there for a bit. I’d still like to run a few scans--.” Rodney tunes him out as he searches John’s face and he supposes that there is a possibility that something was missed. It’s a huge city, many parts that they’ve yet to explore and the Wraith attack had been devastating. He rationalizes that this could also possibly be attributed to some sort of brain injury, what with the bleeding and the passing out and everything but something in John’s eyes gives him pause. Whatever’s brought him to this conclusion, John seems to truly believe that there’s something wrong with their city, with their home and while Rodney isn’t apt to act without actual evidenced based data, he finds that he can’t quite let this go without investigating. “Stop,” he says, holding up a hand to Carson. “We need to go.” “Go? What are ye on about?” Carson asks, clearly annoyed at the interruption. “We still don’ know what caused the bleedin’ an’--.” “Something’s wrong with the city,” Rodney says, echoing John’s previous statement. “We have to go.” Ronon glances at Rodney from across John’s bed and when Rodney gives a barely there nod, Ronon crowds Carson, gently ushering him away. “Sorry, doc.” “Oh, ye can’t be serious! Rodney!” “Can you stand?” Rodney asks John, and he reaches for him, carefully like he’s not sure where it’s okay to touch, especially in public, but John’s hand grabs his wrists and he squeezes gently. “Thank you.” “If you really want to thank me,” Rodney says dryly, “you can do so by not passing out on me again during what is sure to be a long trip around the city. “I’ll do my best,” John answers solemnly and Rodney supposes that’s as good as it gets. --- It’s dark outside, the Lantean sun having set several hours ago. They’ve split up into groups, Ronon and Teyla, Lorne and McMasters, John and Rodney. They’ve had absolutely no luck in finding anything of consequence and Rodney is trying very hard not to lose his temper because he’s

tried to show John on the tablet several times now that everything still shows all is well, but John is insistent. Desperate even, only growing moreso the farther away they get from the heart of the city. “Teyla, Ronon, this is McKay. Anything?” “No, Rodney,” Teyla answers back almost immediately. “It seems as though everything is still working as it should over this way.” “Lorne?” “All good here, doc. I’m gonna suggest we call it, at least for the night. Some of these labs haven’t properly been cleared yet, I’d like to--.” “No,” John says and when Rodney glances over to give him an exasperated glare, he realizes that John’s nose is bleeding again. “John, what are you--!” “This is the hallway,” he tells Rodney, reaching up to wipe the blood away, smearing it to his cheek. “This is… she needs us…” He reaches out and touches the wall and Rodney watches as it pulsates under his hand, a blue glow flickering to life. He’s always known that Atlantis liked John better than she liked anyone else, has seen it in the way rooms light up for him, the effortless way in which John activates all her tech, but this… this is something else. She’s actually communicatingwith him, he knows it. “Three levels above the east pier,” Rodney says into his comm. “Teyla—” “We are already on our way,” and over the radio, Rodney can hear the heavy footfalls of their feet against the floor. Rodney doesn’t realize that John has walked away, not at first, until he turns to see the glow halfway down the hall, barely illuminating John’s figure as it guides him further into the darkness. Rodney follows, and suddenly, John stops outside of a door. “Is this it?” Rodney asks, but he already knows the answer to the question. He slides his hand over the crystal, but the door doesn’t budge, not that Rodney expected it to. “Okay,” he says, and his voice is gentle now, perhaps more gentle than it’s ever been, but there’s something about the pinched look on John’s face that honestly, truly worries him. It reminds him of how he looked on the jumper, right before he, you know, passed out. He checks his tablet, but he knows it’s a moot point because the city is off-line down here, which is why they never knew there was a problem. The sensors just don’t reach this far, but he thinks he should be able to still get the door open. “John,” Rodney says, and there’s no response. “John.” But John seems not to hear him as he reaches for the door, fingers gripping the edge as he tries, desperately, to pull it open. “Oh, oh. Yes.” Rodney puts the tablet down carefully and he moves to the other side, glancing at John to follow his lead and as John pulls again, the noise that escapes him sends a shiver down Rodney’s spine. He screams as the door finally slides open and now, Rodney notices the blood trickling out of John’s ear, just in time to grab John as he crumples, guiding him to the floor. “Rodney!” Teyla’s voice echoes down the hallway, and Rodney calls back, voice nearing on hystericalas he situates himself below John to pillow his head on his lap. “Here! We’re here!” Ronon comes into view first, gun aimed, followed quickly by Teyla. “We heard screaming, what—John?” “It’s Atlantis!” Rodney says, “She’s using John to communicate, there’s something--.” Ronon needs to hear no more as he slips through the opened door and a second later, there’s the sound of laser fire. Rodney’s petting over John gently, shaking him gently, pleading with him to wake up but it’s to no avail. Teyla has disappeared inside of the room that John brought them to and Rodney risks a fraction of a moment to lean down, letting his lips brush against John’s forehead. “Please, please, please wake up.” John resolutely does not. --- “Did we do it?” He’s somewhere quiet and he’s alone, but he can feel her around him, leaving him warm and comforted, reminding him very much of being wrapped up in his mother’s embrace when he was seven and had the flu. He remembers that because before coming to Atlantis, it was the last time he felt well and

truly loved because she’d died less than three weeks later. You did, and he closes his eyes, letting her warmth wash over him. The pain is gone, both his and hers, he realizes and there’s a feeling of contriteness that settles inside of him, like she’s saying she’s sorry and he guesses she means for basically hijacking his mind. But, as unsettling as it should be, he finds that he’s always known she was there, really. The gentle thrumming, the quiet humming of her power he feels tucked away somewhere in the back of his mind. She wasn’t trying to hurt him, he knows. It’s not just his found family that cares for him, not just Rodney… but her too. There will be no lasting damage, she promises him and the warmth begins to recede, just a bit. To either you or me. But please tell Doctor McKay not to be too angry with me. The darkness is fading now with her and he’s not really sure why she thinks Rodney would be upset with her. He tries to ask, but the feeling of a gentle hand in his hair, a quiet murmuring of voices, breaks through and John closes his eyes, letting it guide him out of the dark. Thank you once again, John Sheppard. You saved us all. --- “—still don’t understand how we didn’t know it was here,” Elizabeth says and Rodney has to fight not to roll his eyes because they’ve been over this, he’s explained it ad nauseum. “The life signs detector is tied in directly with the city’s power grid,” he says exasperatedly and he thinks about reaching for his tablet as a nice visual aide but somewhere along the way, his hand had settled into John’s hair and it’s so soft that he kind of doesn’t want to pull it away. He doesn’t know if it brings John any comfort, but it brings him some, feeling the warmth of the other under his hand and damn if he’ll let anyone take that away from him. Even at the sake of his own sanity for having to go through this again. “That part of the city still doesn’t get any power. No power means it can’t communicate with us. We never would’ve known.” “… never would’ve known what?” The raspy voice from the bed asks and Rodney very nearly topples out of his chair as he yanks his hand back, gaping down at John, and “oh, thank god!” “Wraith,” Ronon says by way of explanation, like it’s the most natural thing in the world and Rodney supposes maybe it is. After all, at least for right now, it’s the Wraith that’s proved to be their biggest pain in the ass. “Technically, a Wraith transmitter,” Rodney corrects and he can’t quite tear his eyes away. “The Wraith was.. well, indisposed, as it was. How are you feeling?” “What d’y’mean ‘indisposed’?” “It blew itself up when it realized that the room was heavily shielded and that the beacon couldn’t get through,” Ronon says and Rodney glares at him, because he’sthe one who likes to do all the explaining, thank you very much. “Blew a hole in the wall almost the size of a jumper.” “Yes, well,” Rodney says, steering the conversation back, “somehow, there was some sort of a fail safe built into the city’s infrastructure. There was a kind of a force field where the wall used to be, not unlike that of the cells, but with no power, it wouldn’t have held much longer. When it failed, that thing would’ve sent our coordinates to every Wraith hive ship in the galaxy and well, the ruse would’ve been up. But enough about that, how are you feeling?” “Kinda like I got hit by a truck,” John says and he shifts on the bed to sit up a bit more. “The transmitter’s been taken care of?” “Blasted into almost as many pieces as the Wraith,” Ronon says proudly and Teyla squeezes his arm gently. “We are very glad that you are awake, John,” she says diplomatically, “but perhaps it would be best if we let you rest?” “Whaddya mean? That’s all he’s been doing,” Ronon scoffs, but Teyla tugs at his arm anyway, bless her. “Come,” she says. “Elizabeth, perhaps I could help you in your office, go over the schedule for the teams set to search the rest of the city?” And whatever look she shares with Elizabeth has her nodding, turning to give them both a

smile. “Of course, thank you Teyla,” she says and she reaches out for John, squeezing his arm gently. “Good to have you back with us, John.” John lifts a hand in response as everyone filters out, leaving him and Rodney alone. “You’re an idiot,” Rodney says, just because it’s expected of him, has become part of their standard routine whenever John lands himself in the infirmary. “For what?” “Oh, I don’t know, for letting a sentient city scramble your brains.” “She said she’s sorry, you know,” John says and Rodney rolls his eyes. “Of course she did. And when did we decide that she was a sheafter all? I suppose it makes sense, what with the way women across twogalaxies fawn over you, the famous Colonel Kirk.” “It’s okay to be jealous, Rodney.” “Excuse me? I am not jealous! I just think it’s a little funny that--.” “She even said she hopes you’re not too mad at her,” John interrupts. “What? Why would she care about that?” “I dunno,” he shrugs and he lays back against the pillow, closing his eyes. “Guess she knows how important you are to me. Probably wouldn’t wanna get in your bad graces…” He still can’t get used to this, this… thing. Where they care about each other, but have finally matured enough emotionally to say it out loud. “Yes well,” Rodney sniffs, and settles his hand back against John’s hair, “I’ll forgive her this time. But you tell that harlot--!” “Rodney,” John groans, “she said she’s sorry.” “Alright, alright,” he says and he leans forward, maybe a bit hesitantly, before he presses his lips against John’s. “I’m just… glad you’re okay.” “Yeah,” John agrees. “Me too, buddy. Now how about less talking and more hair petting?” Frankly, there’s nowhere else Rodney would rather be. “Go back to sleep, dummy.” “With pleasure.”

[valdomarx]

Inseparably Entwined

Stargate Atlantis, McKay/Sheppard, bound together, 2k, rated M

-

Elizabeth pinches the bridge of her nose. "What did you two do now?"

"We. Uhh. We found another Ancient device."

"And, instead of cataloguing it for a hazmat team to investigate, as per protocol, you decided to play with it?"

“To investigate it,” Rodney corrects. “Like the competent professionals we are.” John punches him in the arm.

Elizabeth's lips purse into a thin line. "And then you accidentally activated it?"

John winces. "And then we accidentally activated it."

"Of course you did. And its effects are…?"

"Non lethal," Rodney says, a bit too quickly. 

Elizabeth mumbles something that might be don't bet on it under her breath. "Non lethal, but…?"

John shifts his weight and stares at a point behind her head. "McKay and I have to stay within ten feet of each other at all times or we both pass out."

For a moment there is stunned silence. Then the sound of Elizabeth's bark of laughter fills the office and spills out into the gate room.

-

Carson waves a hand. “You’re both going to be fine. It looks like the bond is only temporary.”

Rodney fidgets. “How temporary?”

“I couldn’t say. A few days, maybe a few weeks?”

“Weeks?” John chokes out. “Listen, doc, we need you to fix this -”

Carson cuts him off. “I’m sorry, son, but I’ve got more important things on my plate right now.” He looks pointedly around the infirmary which is admittedly full of marines being treated for combat injuries, Athosians coming in for checkups, and troops of medical staff organizing vaccinations for off-world groups.

John deflates. “So we’re stuck with each other?”

Carson pats him on the shoulder. “Good luck.”

Rodney looks up at that. “Hey!”

-

“Absolutely not.” John recoils in horror. “We are not sleeping in your room.”

“But all my stuff is in there.”

“Your room is disgusting. If you think I’m sleeping on the floor among half-finished bags of cheetos and bits of drones, you are sorely mistaken. It’s a wonder you haven’t attracted the Lantean equivalent of rats.”

“I’ll have you know the bags of cheetos are almost entirely finished.”

“Rodney -”

“Alright! We’ll sleep in your oh-so-tidy quarters. Military spick and span, no snacks or useful bits of machinery in sight.” Rodney rounds on him, waving a finger in his face. “But if I get an inspired idea in the middle of the night and can’t find a circuit board to test it on, know that it’s your stubbornness that is robbing humanity of another of my great concepts.”

John hides a smile. “I’ll have to find a way to live with myself.”

-

When the doors to John’s quarters slide open, Rodney’s jaw drops.

“Hey! How come you have a bigger bed than me?”

John shoots him a smug look. “I upgraded after the last attack. Benefits of command.” It was one of the very few benefits of command he was willing to take advantage of.

“Oh, that’s how it is, hmm? We’re living in a military dictatorship here, with all the best perks and boons given to the highest ranking officers? Never mind that it’s the scientists who do all the actual work, who discover new technology and solve the problems, oh no, let’s give out the biggest and comfiest beds to the military guys, as if that’s fair -”

“McKay!” he interrupts. Rodney looks like he’s having fun, gearing up for a good rant, but John honestly can’t take it right now. “Go to sleep, I’m begging you.”

Rodney huffs, clearly saving that rant away for another time. “Fine.”

-

John is woken up for the third time that night by Rodney fidgeting on the floor and sighing dramatically. 

“What is it, McKay?” His voice is testy. He doesn’t love having his sleep interrupted.

“I can’t get comfortable. A sleeping bag on the floor is bad for my back.”

John stares at the ceiling and counts to ten. He looks at the ample space next to him and calculates his best odds of getting some sleep tonight. “Come here and share the bed with me then.”

Rodney eyes his mattress dubiously. “I’ll have you know I require a very firm mattress, for spinal support, not that I’d expect you to understand -”

“For god’s sake, get in the bed. It has to be better than the floor.”

A moment’s pause. “Yeah, alright.”

It’s been a long time since John slept next to someone. His rare hookups have mostly involved sneaking out in the middle of the night, and even when he was married they slept in separate beds most of the time. 

Sleeping next to Rodney is, surprisingly, not awful though. Sure, he steals all the covers and moves around all the time and, of course, he snores, but John finds that he strangely doesn’t mind. 

-

John has seen Rodney under fire, seen him at his best, seen him happy and sad and angry and bored. But he’s never seen him first thing in the morning before.

“Whazzat?” Rodney’s eyes barely open. His expression is one of overriding confusion. “Whzz going on?”

John stifles a smile at his resident genius. He’s been up for an hour already, showered, done his laundry, and cleaned his space. He’s also decided to play nice and share his secret.

“Here,” he says, and hands a mug of freshly brewed coffee to Rodney. “Just don’t tell anyone I snuck coffee and a kettle into my personal effects, or the scientists will raid us in the middle of the night.”

“Coffee!” Rodney is still radiating confusion, but he hones in on the cup of coffee like a laser. A blissful smile passes over his face. “You brought me coffee.”

“I did.”

“You’re wonderful.” Rodney takes the coffee and cradles it like something precious and rare.

-

After a day and a half doing paperwork in the lab because they can't go off-world, John has reached the end of his rope. 

"I'm going to the gym," he snaps. "You can either come with me or we'll both end up in the infirmary when I try to go there alone."

Rodney glares and is clearly about to start arguing when Zelenka elbows him. He sighs dramatically but agrees that they can take an hour away. 

While they're both in the gym and John needs a sparring partner, he figures he might as well teach Rodney some self defense. The idea of Rodney needing to defend himself makes something unpleasant twist in his gut, but he pushes that away and argues they should make the most of this time and do something productive. To his surprise, Rodney agrees, and they run through some basic drills and defensive maneuvers. 

Rodney is bad at this, frankly. He's all elbows and poor coordination, but he's trying. 

John is feeling magnanimous, and he knows the value of a bit of positive reinforcement. So when Rodney steps forward and attempts a clumsy hip throw, he leans in and lets himself be thrown. 

Rodney looks astonished that actually worked, before delightedly pouncing on John and pinning him to the floor.

"Got you," he says, face pink and grinning wickedly. 

John's heart picks up, somehow distracted by Rodney's heavy weight on him and the sharp brightness of his smile. He swallows thickly. 

"I guess you do."

-

“Geez, Sheppard, how long does it take to have a shower?” Rodney’s voice carries through the bathroom door. “I want to run some simulations on the city’s power systems with Zelenka.”

John’s cheeks flush and he tries to tune Rodney out. “Just give me a minute, will you?”

“What are you doing in there anyway, jerking off?”

John goes very, very still.

“Oh my god, you are!”

“Shut up, McKay.”

“No, no, don’t let me stop you. You go ahead and enjoy yourself.”

“I hate you.”

“I’m not judging. It’s perfectly natural. And hey, maybe it’ll help you chill the fuck out for once.”

John scowls, gives up, and shoves his dick back in his pants. “I will kill you in your sleep.”

-

John is used to having to drag McKay around after him on missions, so in some ways their new situation isn’t entirely unfamiliar. 

Tac vests are useful for that; full of hand holds he can grab when he needs McKay to get down under cover or to stop him from wandering off to look at some shiny piece of technology. When Rodney is in uniform, he can grab the collar of his shirt, though Rodney complains that it creases the fabric horribly.

So John finds a compromise. When he has stuff to do and Rodney is dawdling, he grabs his hand and steers him in the right direction. After a while it becomes second nature - whenever there’s danger or something important is happening, he takes Rodney’s hand and they set off to deal with it together.

If any of the marines find it funny to see their commander holding hands with the head of science during a crisis, none of them dares to mention it.

-

John is carefully, carefully tending to his hair. Just the right amount of product, to spike it just the right amount to look effortless. He tweaks and ruffles, tugs and shapes. This is an art form which requires judicious maintenance. 

“Oh, for the love of -” Rodney grabs the tub of hair wax out of his hands. “We’ll be here all day. Let me.”

He steps forward and slides his hands into John’s hair, ruffling it vigorously. His fingers are firm on John’s scalp and he tugs just on the right side of too hard.

Rodney steps back and surveys his work. “That’ll do.”

John glances in the mirror and sees a chaotic, wild mess. He looks like he’s run a marathon, with his pink cheeks and mussed hair, or like he’s rolled out of bed after a night of passion.

“Rodney! I can’t go out like this.”

“Oh, shut up. You look smoking hot, like you always do.”

That’s… What? What does that mean? Why the hell would Rodney say that?

“Come on,” Rodney is saying, already on his way out the door. John has to run after him, cheeks still flushed.

-

They find a rhythm.

John gets up first and puts the coffee on while he showers. He’s given up on trying to tidy Rodney’s side of the room, so he lets the piles of circuit boards and screwdrivers sprout up where they will. Once Rodney is up they get breakfast at the mess, then he spends the morning doing paperwork and writing reports in the science lab while Rodney works. They meet Teyla and Ronon for lunch, then he spends the afternoon drilling the marines while Rodney taps away at a laptop. Evenings, they bicker over which movies to watch in their quarters and throw popcorn at each other.

Elizabeth even agrees to let them travel to the mainland, and then to go on low-stakes reconnaissance missions. 

It’s… comfortable, he realizes. It works.

That thought makes something twist in his chest, and he doesn’t know why.

-

“Morning, sunshine.” John pours Rodney a cup of coffee.

“Mmm.” Rodney is still sleep-rumpled, but he struggles upright and smiles softly. “Morning.”

As he hands over the coffee, Rodney catches his wrist and holds him there. He looks down at the mug, then back up at John. John notices in an abstract way that his eyes are very, very blue.

“Thanks,” Rodney says, and pecks him on the lips.

Right. Okay. That’s a thing. That’s a thing they’re doing now.

John is still processing as Rodney gets up and heads for the shower. “I’ve got a meeting with Miko this morning,” he says over his shoulder, normal as ever, “so we might have to push our gym session back by half an hour -”

He keeps chattering away while John sits on the bed and has a minor crisis. Did they… do they… but that would mean…

By the time Rodney is out of the shower, John has made a decision. 

He doesn’t allow himself to overthink it, he just takes Rodney’s face in his hands and kisses him deeply. Rodney’s arms tighten around his waist and his tongue slips into his mouth and oh. Oh yes. That’s good.

John’s a little breathless, a little dizzy. “Are we really doing this?” he asks.

Rodney’s face scrunches up in amusement. “I think we’ve been doing this for weeks.”

Yeah. Okay. That’s a fair point.

The tense feeling that’s been winding around his chest uncoils, and in its place is nothing but blooming warmth.

“I guess we have.”

-

EPILOGUE

“Carson.” Elizabeth looks up from where she’s frowning at a tablet and gives him a polite nod. “Thanks for stopping by.”

“Any time,” Carson says, and means it. “What can I do for you?”

“I was hoping to get an update on the situation with John and Rodney. We really do need them to get back on full duty soon.”

“Ahh.” He’s been carefully avoiding that topic. He takes a breath. “To be honest with you, the bond between them wore off days ago. They could go their separate ways now and be none the worse for it.”

Elizabeth’s eyebrows fly upward toward her hairline. “And you haven’t told them yet?”

“See, at first they were in the infirmary every day asking for an update. But they haven’t been in for over a week and -”

“And?”

“They seem…” he pauses, contemplating his choice of words, “... happy.”

Elizabeth’s mouth twitches into a quickly suppressed smile. “That may be, but you have a professional responsibility.”

“Aye, you’re right. I’ll go and tell them the effects of the device have run their course.”

“Well…” Elizabeth looks thoughtful. “You have a professional responsibility to give them accurate medical information when they ask for it.”

Carson sees where she’s going with this. “And until then?”

Elizabeth shrugs and gives him a sly look. “They do seem happy.”

[fairykimseok]

Drowsy nights and the white wolf

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Original Character (Kaitlyn)

Summary: Being an avenger is one thing, being an Avenger with Bucky Barnes is another. A little story of how Kaitlyn met Bucky

Gender: would say fluff with a little action, oneshot

Warnings: a mention of blood

This is written with the intention of being Bucky x reader but I just had to name the character. Time wise it is set along the events of TFATWS

Disclaimer: Marvel owns Avengers, The Falcon and The Winter Soldier and all its characters

Before I tell you my story maybe I need to introduce myself. My name is Kaitlyn, I am short of special as my mom liked to say and…I might be an Avenger.

All started in the battle of New York, I was in one of the buildings Loki had taken over, with my mom and a few other people. I don’t really remember what happened, I only know Loki had touched me with his Scepter. I woke up the following day at the hospital, the building we were in had collapsed killing everyone but me. I was 16 back then and that was when I first met Natasha. She was the one who had pulled me out of that building and she kept visiting me in the hospital, she sort of became my family when everyone was gone. Short after when my powers started showing up, powers that were the legacy of Loki and the infinity stone, our sessions started. She would train me in hand in hand combat and I would try to master my powers.

She wanted me to go to the avengers’ compound and I had visited a few times, I had a room next to Wanda whom I had met on a few occasions. But that was when the Civil War between the Avengers started, and Nat went hiding. We would still meet sometimes with Cap and occasionally Sam.

And then the snap happened, and I blipped and when I came back, she was gone. My only family was gone. I called Sam as soon as I found out. He told me I could still join the team just as Nat wanted, that they had a new building as the old one was destroyed.

And that is where I am right now, in the new Avengers compound with whom is left here. Mostly me, Rodney, and Banner. Sam comes and goes, Dr. Strange, Clint, and Scot has stopped by sometimes and they frequently video call with others that are far away.

It is sort of lonely here, but I try to focus on my training. It is not easy being the only one with my kind of powers. Dr. Strange has helped me some with that and Banner had run some tests on me to see how they could progress. I get my “military” training with Rodney and when Clint is here, I get the “spy” training.

Oh right, my powers. Well you could say I have a thing with ice. Provided that there is water around I can create ice in whatever form I want and use it accordingly. I am still very sloppy and most of the time it is only a thin layer, but I am getting better.

It was a typical day, I woke up, got breakfast in the shared kitchen, visited Banner in his lab and went to the gym for my training. One of the first things Nat had told me was that I need to be agile, to be able to move fast even in the most difficult situations, so my morning routine had a variety of ballet, yoga or pilates.

“Looking good”, I heard someone at the door. As I turned, I realized it was no other than Sam.

“Hey Sam, what’s up? It’s been a while”, I said, going to my bug to drink some water.

“Thought I would stop by to see how you all here are and also to drop a friend who I think would help you a lot with your training”, he said.

As on cue Rodney entered the room with one more man, he looked around the room before his eyes landed on me. I knew who he was of course, who doesn’t.

“Bucky this is Kaitlyn, Kaitlyn this is Bucky. Don’t worry he is not dangerous just very old”, Sam joked which led to him getting a punch in the arm.

“Nice to me you”, Bucky said with a slight nod of his head.

“Nice to meet you too”, I managed to say in a stake of a mild shock. No, I wasn’t scared of him, I never had been. Cap had told me enough of his stories with bucky back in their days to know that this man is not dangerous even if he had been brainwashed most of his life.

“Bucky can help you with close up combat. If you are going to learn, better learn from the best.”, Sam offered. “We gonna let you at it and come back later with Rods. You gonna be ok old man?”, he asked before leaving, closing the door behind them.

Bucky only eye rolled as he properly entered the room. He unzipped his jacket leaving it at the bench, his vibranium arm echoing in the empty room. “Alright, let’s see what you got. Try to hit me” he said positioning himself in the middle of the room.

“Hit you?”, I asked confused, approaching him.

“Kick me, punch me, hit me. Whatever”, he shrugged.

Whatever, I thought. How? How do you hit the winter soldier? I took a few more steps, going closer all while I was thinking which could be the best approach, how could I attack him. At first, I just tried to punch as naïve as it looked. Of course, he just stopped my hand midair with his. I tried more complex moves, some of those Nat used to do, wrapping my legs around his neck and trying to elbow him on the head, I found myself pinned to the nearest wall his metal arm in my neck. His grip tight. He got flustered for a moment and for a moment there I really saw the assassin he used to be. He loosened his grip and let me down, mumbling an apology.

“How old are you again?”, I asked out of breath.

“Physical or mental age? Actual or birth wise? Kinda difficult question to ask”, he said with a faint of smile but maybe it was my imagination because it lasted for too short.

“Current?”, I offered.

“Something around the early 30s. Or 106, who counts?” he shrugged. “Again”

We went on and on, each time finding me in a helpless situation. I was pretty sure Ι was covered with bruises in every place possible.

I don’t even know how many times we had done the same thing when I got the idea that hey, I got powers. I let him tackle me into a headlock and when he was about to loosen his hold, I touched the metal arm, ice spreading all over it. I took the mere seconds it took him to realize what was going on as a chance to elbow him in the ribs and punch his jaw. He took a step back and smiled not even fazed by my hits.

“Good, but next time count on your strength and not your powers yet”, he said.

“Do you even feel anything?”, I asked defeated, nothing seemed to hurt him.

“It takes a lot more to make me feel anything”, he grinned. “And ice is not one of them”

“I left you here to learn from him and you go and freeze my man?”, Sam exclaimed entering in the room.

“I am fine”, Bucky said waving his metal arm twice before the ice broke and fell on the floor.

“Once a popsicle always a popsicle,” Sam joked earning a death stare from the older man. “How did it go?”, he asked looking at me

“No broken bones, so I guess good”, I shrugged.

“We have a long way ahead of us”, Bucky said getting dressed. “I am out”, he nodded before disappearing.

“So how was it really?”, Sam asked again, examining me.

“I think I barely touched him. My whole body is sore, and my pride is wounded.”

Sam laughed. “That’s why I brought him here to you. The people we are going up against out there are not easy, they will try to kill you without a second thought. You can always use your powers, but you told Nat you wanted to be like her. If you still up for the close combat, he will be here from now on. You may train with him whenever you want. If not, you are still free to stay here and train on your powers.”

I looked at him with realization. Maybe I wasn’t trying hard enough. I was feeling so lost without her. “No, I want to try”, I promised with determination.

“Good. Now go, get ready we will all get dinner together before I leave”, Sam left too, and I was left alone in the room.

I sighed heavily, trying to get up I felt the pain running through my body. I was going to be so sore tomorrow.

  -----------------------

Days were passing by and I hadn’t seen him anywhere which on one hand was good because I don’t think I had improved since our first encounter and on the other it made me wonder where the heck he might be? It is not like the compound is huge for me to lose him. I reasoned that he could be on a mission with Sam and that is why I hadn’t seen him, after all Rodney wasn’t here either.

Apart from the hours of training I did through the day, I had started running some laps in the late hours. It is when the humidity in the air is the highest here, so it makes me feel more at ease with my powers. I was running again today, just a few laps around the compound, when I stopped at a clean spot.

I breathed in the humid air allowing my body to absorb as much water as it could from the atmosphere. I tried to catch my breath as I heard a bike running down the entrance of the compound towards the building. For a moment, I was perplexed as who it could be before I realized it was him, returning from somewhere. He headed to the garage. I didn’t even know he had a bike, but I decided to return at my task no point on focusing on him.

I closed my eyes again, opened my arms in an L shape and tried to focus, focus on my surroundings, on the water in the air. I took a deep breath as I tried to expand the cold emanating from me. I tried to crystalize as many water particles as I could around me, turning the humid air into a frozen one.

And I tried to expand it as much as I could. That’s when I felt it, the other presence close to me, in between all the cold a warmer figure. I turned at once defensively, ice-like awls flying towards the direction of the intruder only to stop a few centimeters away.

“I am sorry”, I said as I made them disappear. “I didn’t know it was you”, my body relaxing a bit.

He stared at me unfazed, as if he wasn’t even scared, I had almost pierced him throughout his body. He stared at me dead in the eyes and I couldn’t really understand what his look meant. It was like he was studying me. “It’s late, you should better go in,” he said before turning and heading back to the building.

“How long have you been standing here?”, I yelled at his retreating figure.

“Enough,” he yelled back without even turning.

I followed him with my eyes until he disappeared behind the doors. I took another deep breath as I headed back myself. There was something about this man, so mysterious, so distant yet I felt being drawn to him.

  --------------------

Wednesdays are usually gun days, I would do the training with Clint, trying different guns and basically learning how about anything could be a weapon if you use it correctly. Hell, one day Clint decided I had to try the bow, but it went terribly. In my defense my eyesight sucks so how was I supposed to do well?

Clint hadn’t been here for a while, so I went to the training room alone, picked a gun, set the target, wore the protective gear, and started shooting. Surprisingly I wasn’t that bad at shooting, I give myself credit, even though I still lack on technique and consistency.

I was halfway through when I felt eyes on me again. I turned to face the room and sure enough I saw him leaning on the door frame. “Not bad,” he commented as I removed the protective headphones.

“Thanks”, I said feeling self-aware, I don’t know why I was getting so nervous around him.

“Need to relax your shoulders a bit” he continued as he walked to pick a gun and went to a nearby booth. “You are going to dislocate it otherwise”.

I nodded as I watched him go, he didn’t miss one, switching between hands and meters away from the target. I was impressed but don’t tell him.

“So, guns are your thing”, I said as he stopped.

“I wouldn’t say I have a thing, just too many years of experience, but if I had a thing, I guess it would be knives”, he said thoughtfully.

“Show me”, I challenged without even thinking.

He gave me a funny look as he picked one, moved back to the booth and while still looking at me threw the knife head on to the target. He didn’t even blink.

He shrugged and I think I saw a hint of smugness there. “Practice makes perfect”, he said as he turned to leave the room. “Keep on practicing”.

“Good to see you too”, I mumbled to the empty room. Cause it was good to see him, wasn’t it? I did want to see him. I had found myself almost searching for him in the days that he was nowhere to be found. I had seen photos of him in the news and back in those years he did seem dangerous but now, with the haircut and his general stance he seemed more like the Bucky Cap was describing in his stories albeit still very distant. Would I entertain myself with the thought that he was hot? I mean, the beard, the toned muscles, the mystery, the eyes, oh those eyes. Nah, I shouldn’t think of that.

“Focus”, I murmured to myself as I started shooting again.

 -------------------

I was back in the gym where we first met, doing my flexibility exercises as he entered the room. He walked straight to me, his eyes never leaving mine. I got up from the floor I was sitting. I was so drawn to him; I couldn’t take my eyes of him. We were too close now, bodies almost touching. He looked down on me and I felt my body shiver. He brought his hand to my cheek and caress it, and I melted to the touch. I raised mine to touch his hand as I followed the muscles all the away till his shoulder and then his face. He used his metal arm to guide me closer to him by my waist. And then he started leaning, our breaths coming as one, lips almost touching…

I woke up with a start, my heart racing a like an f1 car in Q3. I was sweating. “It was just a dream”, I said as I tried to catch my breath. “A very vivid one”.

I looked at the clock on the night stand it was still 3 in the morning, but my glass was empty. I got up, sighing, intending to go get some water from the kitchen. As I left my room, I heard some soft, almost incoherent, music coming from the end of the corridor. I walked towards it, recognized the tune as something from the 30s or 40s maybe, I turned at the end of the corridor and there was faint light coming from a crick of the door of the room in the right.

I wondered who could be up this late at night and I picked in the room. It was luminated by a small lamp on the desk. A pickup next to it and a few records stacked in the bookshelf behind. He then moved into my line of vision. Drink at hand, shirtless, only his bottom pajamas on. I gulped at the sight of his bare torso, not a good combination with the dream I just had. I noticed the scars on his body and those where the metal was fusing with his torso.

He was sipping his drink, occasionally humming to the tune. This must have been the most human I had ever seen him and then it hit me that this is a very private moment for someone like him, with the kind of life he had, and I was intruding. I turned to go to the kitchen as I originally intended, unbeknownst to me at the time that he had noticed my presence.

  -------------------

“Your favoritism is showing”, Sam commented as he followed Bucky’s look.

It was one of those days that we had visitors in the compound. I was just outside the building on the front yard, with Hope and in the middle of the very tiring martial arts session.

Bucky was leaning of the living room windows that had just the perfect view of the front where me and Hope were.

“I don’t get what you mean,” Bucky said to Sam, his eyes still on us.

Sam laughed. “Come on don’t play dumb. It is not so subtle when you mention her while on missions neither how you look at her when she doesn’t.”

“How do I look at her?”, Bucky asked finally turning to look at Sam.

“Well, intently the least. There is some longing, some what if in there”, Sam explained.

“You know it’s true,” Rodney added coming into the room.

“Where the hell did you come from?” Bucky exclaimed finally leaving his spot from the window and sitting on the couch. Anyone could see he was started to get annoyed.

“You know if Steve was here, he would tell you to go for it”, Sam pointed.

Bucky glared at him before hissing “I hate you both”.

Sam laughed loudly.

 -----------------

I had just finished my session with Hope when Sam approached us.

“How you doing ladies?” he chirped.

“Good”, Hope beamed, “It went pretty good”.

“That’s always great to hear”, Sam approved and they both smiled at me making me blush.

“I am gonna head back in”, Hope said, “Is Scot here yet?”

“Yeah he just came with Cassie. You all gonna stay here for lunch?” he wondered.

“Sure thing”, she nodded before heading in.

“So how is it going with you? How it’s going with my boy Bucky?” Sam asked shifting his attention back to me.

“Uuhm, good, I guess. We haven’t talked much but he has offered a few advices here and there which helped me for sure. I was pretty sure he hated me at the beginning”, I laughed.

“I am telling you he hates everyone, but I think it might be far from true in your case”, Sam winked. “But anyway, keep up the good work and who knows you might come with us in a mission soon.”

I looked at him perplexed but didn’t comment on it.

Later during lunch, I tried to pay more attention to Bucky and it did seem that he wasn’t so comfortable in a room full of people but I did notice that there were times he was looking at me for no reason.

 -------------------

True to his words, Sam did invite me to a mission about a month after he said so. They were happy with my progress which gave me the confidence I needed to try more. There were still a lot I needed to learn, and they thought that if I was part of a simple mission it would also give me the experience of handling difficult situations.

I had a fitting with Banner who provided me with a suit, he had coordinated with Shuri for this. It was a black one with blue details, small lines in the shoulders, abdomen, and wrists. My palms and fingers were free so that I would be able to use my powers easily and of course it had parts of vibranium protecting the vital organs of my torso. The part I liked the most was the neck as there was extra fabric which I could use to cover my face up till my nose. I braided my hair in a French style, took the gun and in ear com that Sam had left for me and I was ready to go.

“Nervous?”, I heard Bucky asking me as he joined me at the front yard. We were waiting for Sam to come with the Quinjet and get us. He was also dressed in his suit, with an one-sleeved jacket, leaving his metal arm exposed.

“More than I would like to admit”, I replied.

“It will be fine, we got you”, he assured me.

Up in the Quinjet, I spend most of my time in awe with how it was. I had never been into one and I was marveled.

“So, the mission is to get to the convoy and get the asset out. The asset is a scientist. We plan on ambushing them based on the route they are supposed to follow. I will stop them, and we attack. Bucky and I will take care of the guards and all you need to do is take the guy and go away of the rest of us”, Sam started explaining the plan, showing a map on the screen. “If everything goes according to plan, we will be there way earlier to map the area. Clear?”

“Hmm, how are we going to go there? I wouldn’t assume there is a place to land there”, I pondered.

“Parachutes”, Sam simply offered, studying the map. “We plan on landing around here. And as soon as we get the asset, we have this place here as an exit point. Just a few km away.”

“For us, he would be flying”, Bucky accused him.

“Not wanting to be that person, but I have never used a parachute”, my stress levels were increasing by the second. Not only I was in charge of another person making it out alive, but I had to jump of a plane, not to mention my fear of heights. Maybe this was a bad idea.

“Don’t worry we will jump together”, Bucky offered which unknowingly to me earned a playful wiggle of eyebrows and a look of approval from Sam. Bucky on the other hand only glared at him.

When it was almost time for us to jump, we started getting ready. Sam left first, flying to the place to make sure we didn’t have any company. It was the first time I had seen him with Cap’s shield, and it was not as weird as I expected it to be.

“You ready?” I heard him ask.

“As ready as I can be”, I smiled nervously.

“Look it is your first time and it is reasonable to be nervous. But it won’t help you down there. You are ready just believe in yourself. We will be there, and we won’t let anything to happen to you. Ok?” he comforted me giving me a pat on the back. And there was something there in his eyes, a bit of worry, of determination, I couldn’t really tell but I believed him.

“Ok”, I said with confidence. “So how do we jump?”

“Well, since you have no experience, we will do this together. Here tie this in your belt and around your waist and clip it to my belt”, he proceeded with wearing the parachute and fixing the ties and held as together. This was the closest we had been since the first day that we trained together. I had made the mistake of looking up at him as he checked the equipment. We don’t have that much of height difference which has as a result my eyes to be at the same level with his lips. Which was a great distraction for my nervousness. “You can put your hand here to be steadier”, he said as he guided my hand to get in between the ties of the parachute at the front of his chest. “And the other should probably go behind my back”, he suggested.

“Ok”, I said as I did what he proposed. I did feel steady like this, but it was super close. I could smell his cologne from this distance.

He took a step behind and an agent opened the airplane door for us. “Want to count to 3?”, he asked, wrapping his hand around my waist holding me closed.

I did make the mistake to look at him in the eyes which created a new kind of tension, but I nodded. “One..Two….AAAAAAhh”,  I screamed as the jerk jumped of the plane without a notice. I hid my face in the crook of his neck as we were falling, letting him take care of the rest. The one instruction they had given me was to stay as still as I could so that he could guide as without problems.

And somehow miraculously I felt my feet touching the ground and him starting to untie as from the parachute. “See we made it”, he remarked with a rare smile.

I let a loud breath. “I can’t believe we did. Now what?”

“Sam you copy? We are moving to the meet up point”, he talked to his in-ear com as he gestured me to follow.

“Copy”, I heard Sam replying.

We walked carefully to the place we were supposed to ambush them. Sam informed us that he could see the convoy coming. The asset being in the 3rd of the 4 cars.

We had positioned ourselves as we saw the cars turning towards our direction. As they were passing by us, Sam shoot the first one causing a collision and the rest came to a stop. “Go go go”, I heard him over the radio.

Sam was already flying towards our direction eliminating as many guards as he could. A lot more people than I expected came out of the vehicles. I saw Bucky running easily taking out the first 3-4 guards that came out of the last car as stealthy as possible. Sam threw him the shield and with a jump Bucky swiftly caught it and landed on top of the Jeep that was supposed to have the asset, starting to shoot.

I run behind him going to the other side of the car where I could see an man trying to hide. With the guards of the car gone I was able to take him “Follow me”, I shouted taking him by the shoulder and leading him to the forest in the direction of the exit point.

But as I turned to go that way, I saw another vehicle coming to us, probably a backup. They were driving fast directly at us. “We got company!”, I yelled in the com getting the others attention. I tried to shoot at the driver, but the windshield was bullet proof.

Sam flew past by and shoot at the tyres. Even though the van crashed to the side a bunch of guards came out and started shooting at us. “Kaitlyn, go!” Bucky yelled moving past me.

I took the asset and started running in the forest unfortunately though a few guards saw us and started following. The first bullet flew right past me and I stopped abruptly. “Get behind me”, I demanded as I tried to shield him. I created an ice shield as thick as I could to shield us both. The guards kept shooting as I tried to take steps backwards. I drew my gun and tried to shoot back getting one of them on the leg. My shield had started thinning as bullets kept coming to our direction. One passed through and I felt like it hit me, but I didn’t have the time to think of this.

I looked up on the trees to see how heavy they were with snow and I got an idea. I lifted my hand and closed my fist as the snow fell heavy on the guard. I lowered my shield to see if the danger had passed and thankfully there was no one else. Sam flew next to me and Bucky came behind running. “We are clear”, Sam confirmed. I looked back at the man hiding behind me, he wasn’t hurt which was the point so that meant I had done a good job.

We took him to the exit point where the Quinjet was waiting. I sat down at a sit to catch my breath. I had never used my powers for so long and I felt drained now the adrenaline levels were falling.

“You are bleeding”, Bucky exclaimed as he run towards me, kneeling in front of me and taking my arm in his. There was a hole in my suit, and there was a scratch on my upper arm I hadn’t even notice. There was some blood there, but it had mostly dried. “How did this happen?” he asked.

“Hmm, I am not sure I didn’t really feel it, but I think there was a bullet that passed the shield I had made”, I flinched into the touch.

“We need to clean this”, he answered with worry as he went to take the medical kit. He kneeled again and cleaned my wound, patching it.

“Thank you”, I whispered as he sat next to me. I took in his state, eyes closed, sweat dripping from his temple. There was something raw in him like this yet so beautiful.

“Good work Kaitlyn”, Sam patted me in the back. “We are proud of you”.

“Thanks Sam”, I smiled.

We left the asset to a safe place where some agency they didn’t care to tell me, would take him and put him into some kind of protection. We flew back to the compound.

“Are you staying?” I asked Sam.

“No, I got something to do. See you guys in a few days”, he waved before flying away.

I turned to look at Bucky “Come, let’s get in”, he responded.

I followed him in, each going to our respective rooms. I took a bath washing away the blood and tiredness. It was long into the am hours and I couldn’t get myself to sleep after all this. I headed back to the living room, gazing out at the night sky. A few stars visible.

“Here, I made you this”, Bucky said, and I jumped in shock.

“I didn’t hear you coming”, I faltered taking the mug he offered. It had some hot tea.

Bucky grinned. “It’s linden and chamomile. Will help soothing your nerves”.

“Thank you”, I smiled bringing the mug to my lips.

We stayed silently for a few moments, sipping our drinks, and looking out as night shifted.

“I am sorry I didn’t protect you”, he started.

I turned to look at him “Bucky, I- there is no need to be sorry. I…I didn’t expect you to. You had to fight so many people and protect yourself. I was just clumsy, and you were there the whole time. Hell, we jumped of a plane and walked out alive,” I laughed to show him that I was just fine.

“Still I told you that I wouldn’t let you get hurt and you did”, he countered meeting my eyes. There was dare I say hurt in there.

I took a step closer, taking his hand to mine, which took him by surprise, his eye fixating there for a moment. “Don’t worry, I am really fine. I am glad we are all ok”, I said squeezing his hand lightly.

He cleared his throat as he removed his hand. “It’s time for some sleep. Good night”, he said.

“Goodnight Bucky,” I responded as he turned to leave, and turned my attention back outside.

“Kaitlyn?”

“Yeah?”

“You can call me Buck”, he encouraged and with a small smile he left.

I was left standing there with my mouth open, not knowing what to do. Ι bit my lips not knowing how to handle the new emotion of excitement I was feeling for no apparent reason. I went to my room and slept a peaceful sleep.

  ----------------

 There had been a month since our mission, I was still training daily, each day feeling more confident with my skills and powers.

Sam and Bucky were in another mission for almost a month now, we didn’t really have news of them. Last time we had checked they were in Prague. Ι was worried, I didn’t want to admit it to anyone else but I was listening to the news everyday wondering if they would be mentioned.

“Hey Bruce”, I greeted as I entered the lab. “How is it going?”

“Hey kiddo”, he greeted back, leaving whatever weird thing he was working on.

I walked around the lab indifferently, “Any news from the guys in the field?”

“I spoke with Sam yesterday, they somehow ended in Madripoor. I personally haven’t been there, but I hear it is an interesting place. They met Sharon in the way”.

“Who is Sharon?”, I perked up.

“Oh, you probably haven’t met her. I only met her once briefly a few years ago. She was a friend of Steve’s and an old agent of Shield”, he explained.

“I see”, I said thoughtful, for some reason the idea of a woman travelling with them in troublesome situations didn’t make me feel very at ease. I mean if she was a friend of Steve’s, was she also a friend of Bucky’s?

I tried to shake away any unwelcome thoughts that came to my mind.

“Thank you, Bruce. Want to try the new blasters?”, I asked trying to channel my energy to something else.

  --------------------

 It was a Saturday evening; it was raining, and it was relatively cold. I was in my room, listening to some music and absentmindedly looking out the window. My tea still warm in the mug.

I heard a knock on the door that shook me out of my trance. “Yes”.

“Hey”, I barely saw a head behind the semi closed door. “May I come in?”

“Please, come”, I smiled to the familiar face. “When did you return?”

He got in closing the door behind him. “Half an hour ago probably. I just wanted to check up on you”, Bucky said scratching the back of his neck.

“I am good”, I offered going closer, my eyes try to take all his features. “Is this a bruise? Were you hurt?” I tried to reach with my hand right below his eye where I could see some shades of purple and yellow, but he stopped me midair.

“Yeah but it is nothing. Don’t worry. I ‘ve been worse”, he gently lowered my hand not completely leaving it though as our fingertips were still touching.

“That doesn’t really make me feel better about it. Neither should you. You shouldn’t get hurt”, I shook my head in disagreement.

He snorted. “It’s nothing. Don’t worry”, he smiled and for moment I think – I THINK – my legs turned to jelly. A bit my bottom lip and his eyes darted there directly.

I opened my mouth to say something, but words weren’t really there.

“It’s late”, he said. “I ‘ll see you tomorrow”. He opened the door and left with a last smile.

  ---------------

A few days had passed, we had shared some training sessions. I had run into him in the kitchen a few times in the morning where I would go to make breakfast and he would usually drink coffee with Rodney before they both left for a meeting they did with the rest of the team that was spread around the world.

Sam stopped by occasionally and they could train together or go on a mission together. I was worried why they hadn’t asked me to go with them again. I had been to a few simple ones with Rodney but never again with Bucky and Sam.

That day, it was late at night and I had just come back from my evening run. I took a shower and after drying up I endeavored to the kitchen to find something to munch on. He was sitting at the living room, the only light coming from the full moon outside. Soft music was playing and he appeared to be playing with a knife. He was throwing it in the air and catching it again and again.

At first, I thought whether I should approach him or not, maybe he needed some alone time. I went to the kitchen and got some almonds and water. I thought that maybe he would hear the noise and either come or leave if he wanted to be alone. When I was done eating, I gave a look to the living room to see if he was still there.

Naturally my eyes went straight to the couch that I had left him but found nothing. Only then I noticed that he had moved to the windows and he was looking at me. I jumped “You scared me”, I muttered.

“What are you doing up at 3 in the morning?” he asked.

“Right back at you? I was just about to go to sleep”, I retorted getting away from the shadows of the kitchen and closer to the windows. The moon light was accentuating his features. He had a week-old beard and was wearing a simple black t-shirt and pj pants.

“Tried the sleep, didn’t work. Came here to relax”, he explained while still looking at me intently.  

“Do you want me to make you something? A tea? Some milk?” I offered.

He moved from the windows and met me halfway. “No, I am fine”, he murmured. He brushed a few stray hairs with his hand and put them behind my ear. His eyes never leaving mine. “Didn’t really tell me why you were still up”.

“I – I came back from running and wanted to eat something before I go to sleep”, I could feel his breath merging with mine, and I was feeling so lost.

He brought his metal arm to my waist and with his other arm he caressed my cheek. Ι couldn’t but lean into the touch, momentarily closing my eyes.

He started leaning towards me when a noise came from down the corridor. Someone had opened their door and was making their way to us. He immediately broke contact, gave me one last look, and left. “Sup Banner?” heard him saying somewhere away from my line of vision. I was just left there, frozen, not knowing what to do and utterly confused.

“What are you doing in the dark kid?”, Bruce asked, and I almost jumped.

“Ah you know, night cravings. Going to sleep. Goodnight Bruce”, I faked a yawn and practically run to my room.

  ------------

The next day I intentionally went for breakfast later than usually. I wasn’t sure I wanted to see him yet neither did I know what to do if we met.

Of course, with the good luck I always have, I almost fell on him as I turned to enter the kitchen. He caught me as to not fall murmured an apology and left which as I saw from the kitchen, he rode his bike and left the compound whatsoever.

I spend the whole day in the training room unleashing all my nerves using my powers. At some point Bruce had to come to tell me to stop because the temperature in the compound had decreased by 10 degrees and apart from the room I was using, crystals had form in two rooms radius.

I apologized and we spend the rest of the afternoon trying to unfreeze the rooms and increase the temperature. Thankfully the compound has top notch systems.

I ate a quick dinner right after and locked myself in my room.

I was laying in my bed, cocooning with my blankets, watching a movie when I heard a knock on my door. I looked at the clock, it was almost midnight. “Who is it?”, I questioned.

“Bucky”, he cleaned his throat, the nervousness in his voice evident.

For a moment I pondered if I should really go and open or not but my curiosity and well the eagerness got the best of me. I got up and unlocked the door, opening it enough to see him. “Can I come in?”, he wondered, anxiously giving looks to the rest of the rooms in case anyone showed up. I just moved aside for him to get in without saying anything, wasn’t sure what to say either.

I moved to go and sit back on my bed and he followed but hesitated to sit, he only did when I gestured him to. He cleaned his throat again. “This isn’t easy for me”, he started and I then felt bad, because I was giving him the silent treatment but I was failing to understand that for a person like him, that had been through so many horrible things it surely wasn’t something easy. I relaxed a bit and gave him a reassuring look as to proceed.

He fidgeted a little more before he tried again. “Firstly, I need to apologize for how I left yesterday, I just panicked. You know it is funny because Steve had told me that I had my way with the ladies back in our time but all this”, he gestured between us, “is fairly new to the current me. And I pretty much have no idea what to say or do”.

“Well, thank you for apologizing”, I smiled and took his hand in mine to show him that everything was ok, and he could feel more comfortable. He clenched back which I took as a good step. “You can always start by telling me what you feel, if you want”.

“You would think that it is easy”, he snorted, yet he intertwined our fingers. “I just feel better when I see you and when I am with you. And I feel excited every time we meet. And I feel eager for the next time”.

“Well if it helps, I feel the same”, I mumbled.

His shoulders seemed to relax a bit to the sound of my words.

I lifted my arm and tried to turn his face gently to look at me or else he would make holes to the floor from how intently he was looking at it. I smiled and he grinned.

“So…”, I started.

“So, we could maybe try and spend some time together one of these days…”, he trailed off.

“Well, it is not like I have something to do now… we could always start with watching a movie?”, I questioned.

“Yeah I would like that”, he smiled.

We picked a movie and sat on the bed, at first apart but as the movie was progressing, in between laughs and comments, we came closer and ended up cuddling. I am not sure when but at some point, I fell asleep in his arms.

“Sshh, go back to sleep”, he whispered as he was trying to get up and leave the bed, my hand instinctively holding him in place.

“Don’t go”, I mumbled, eyes still close.

“I can’t stay here, and you are asleep”, he said, and I could hear the smile in his voice.

I opened my eyes, as awake I could be “Stay”

He looked me again, eyes full of adoration. I could see he was thinking of it. I sat up, and gently pulled him close to me so that he could sit back again in the bed. “Stay”, I repeated.

“Ok”, he said “I will”.

He moved to remove his sweater and close the lights and came back to the bed. I moved enough to make him space and he got under the blanket, the mattress moving under the extra weight. I looked down at him and a feeling of completion, of happiness filled me. I couldn’t believe that those blue eyes were staring back at me.

For a moment I wasn’t sure if I should do it, if I was overstepping but my eagerness took a hold of me. I leaned in, placing my hand above his heart, feeling it moving fast. He looked at me inviting, his hand moving to my cheek, guiding me closer. I stopped just centimeters away, our lips almost touching, to give him one last look, as if I was asking for the final permission. He closed the gaped and I felt the softest lips against mine.

After a moment we parted and he caressed my cheek. “Sleep now.”

I laughed at him but obeyed, getting back in position, my head on his chest as he wrapped his arm around me. And just like this we fell asleep.

 --------------

 After this night, Bucky was a totally different person. He was constantly smiling to me, hugging me with every chance he got, kissing me when he thought no one was looking. And in the compound, he was totally different, he would help me clean around, sing while he was doing chores.

Sure, there were also some bad days when he would wake up in his sleep screaming from the nightmares and I had to hold him in my arms and remind him that everything was in the past. That no one was here to hurt him and even if they tried, they would have to go through me first. After a while he would usually calm down, we would lay down again, he would put his head on my chest, and I would caress his hair. He, then, would fall asleep and I would let him sleep as late as he could even if he would be grumpy about it afterwards.

But everything felt so dreamy. And I would trade everything in the world for a smile of his.

[auroras-blend]

First Day of School

Summary: AU one-shot of what would have happened if the Marks had won the custody battle. Told in Marilyn's POV

Sunlight peeked through the curtains and cast onto an empty bed, unusual since its occupant rarely woke up before then. No, instead little Miss Marilyn Winslow woke up with the birds who were singing joyfully outside and for once, she didn’t hiss at their loudness. Her mood reflected their demeanor as she whistled and sang along with them.

Marilyn clasped the white buckle to her mary-janes, before straightening in front of her mirror. Perfect! Her outfit was the most important thing that morning. It took her mind off of her nerves because she had a very big task in front of her: the first day of school. It was her first, first day of school since her Mama had passed and while the ache was there, she refused to go in sad. I have to make a good impression!

If there was one thing her Mama at least always tried to do, it was to make sure she looked good on the first day of school. Of course on their budget, most of the time it had been from the thrift store but once in first grade, she got a new dress. This year, Mrs. Marks offered to let her pick out her own and buy it new, but Marilyn insisted on going to the thrift store for a new dress or “slightly used” because that’s what she and Mama did. The old lady who ran the shop was happy to see her once again.

Marilyn, in a way to pay tribute to her mother, wore a green gingham dress because the color always looked so wonderful with her eyes. It was slightly tailored to fix a rip, but it was barely noticeable now. Pleased with her outfit, Marilyn fluffed her blonde curls and tightly set a white headband on her head before nodding in satisfaction and left her room. The smell of sweet maple syrup wafted from the kitchen, leading her like a moth to the flame. The minute her heels clicked on the tile, her parents smiled. “Look at you!” Daddy exclaimed, putting down his paper, “Look at how beautiful you are!”

Mrs. Marks smiled, “You’re a dream!”

Her mommy briefly abandoned plating the pancakes in exchange for coming to see her daughter’s first day of school outfit. “Thank you,” Marilyn blushed.

“You’re going to have such a good day, I know it,” Mommy said surely as she kissed Marilyn on the forehead.

It was rough for a long time, it still was, after her Mama died. Marilyn still longed for her real daddy, not that she’d ever tell Mr. Marks that, but the ache in her heart and mind started to dull. The small family sat around their table and said their prayers. “And Lord, please give Marilyn a wonderful first day of school,” Daddy said lastly, “Amen.”

“Amen,” she and Mommy finished before they began eating.

As they had their breakfast, Mommy went over the pick-up and drop-off routine. Marilyn knew it, they had been doing it since she started living with them. “We’ll both take you today, we don’t want to miss your first day,” cooed Mommy, “But Daddy will pick you up and take you with him to the church where you’ll be with me in the daycare for the last hour, okay?”

“Okay,” she said pleasantly, her mouth full of sticky, sweet, fluffy pancakes.

Her nerves were high, wondering if she’d be in the same class as Rodney Lord again or if she’d spend another year friendless, but she always felt that way on the first day. Mama, please help me have a good time. She wiped her stinging nose before anyone could notice, I don’t wanna be the class crier this year. She’d been on a pretty good no crying streak this summer, of course, there were days where she did, but it hadn’t been as often as before.

In all honesty, she would have preferred her summer to last a little longer with the Marks because she had truly been happy. Marilyn felt like she was finally part of a normal family, nourished in warmth and affection that she hadn’t ever received before. And she was so excited to share that when people asked her what she did that summer because she finally had a fun and exciting answer! They had been to the county fair, the fireworks show, went to Baltimore for some conference Mr. Marks had to go to, but it had been a real family vacation!

It had been a relaxing time as she got to know her new parents and their daily routines. She loved waking up early some mornings, yes I know, I liked it and sneaking to sit with her daddy and color as he read through his Bible before helping her Mommy make breakfast. Breakfast used to be a meal she had to forgo, but now every day started at the table. Life was structured and comfortable, and as if to prove it, the clock struck right when she swallowed her last piece of pancake to fill her belly before school.

“Oh, finish your milk, we’ve gotta go!” Mrs. Marks said as she got up, clearing the plates as Mr. Marks went to get their coats, keys, and Marilyn’s backpack.

Cupping her glass with both hands, she guzzled it down as she watched her parents scurry to get ready before she let out a refreshing “ah” and handed it over to Mrs. Marks. “Kay peanut, ready?” Mr. Marks asked as he helped her out of her seat and into her dark green coat and new leather satchel.

That’s right, it’s new! They let her pick out her own backpack that year and she swore to keep it clean and safe at all costs. You’re on a mission, Miss Marilyn! “Hey,” Mr. Marks leaned down, “Still on for ice cream?”

She grinned and nodded, “Uh-huh!”

He gave her an agreeing nod. Mr. Marks said it would be their “thing”, every year at the end of the first day of school and last day of school, they’d get ice cream and talk about her day. They did it the previous year on her last day and it was one of her favorite memories, one that she tucked away and pulled out whenever she was feeling particularly sad. Mr. Marks gently reached for her hand and his wife for the other and walked out to the car together, ready to start her on her next adventure.

The ride was too short and too long all at once. They chatted but when they parked, amid the flurry of walking children and their parents, she frowned. When they noticed she’d become silent, they turned around, “You’re going to have a great day!”

“I-I’m gonna miss you…I don’t want to go,” she said, sounding like a frog was caught in her throat.

“Oh peanut, you’re gonna have so much fun though. You’ll make new friends, have a new teacher, and you’ve been practicing your reading all summer so you’re all caught up!” Mr. Marks reassured her.

“What if people make fun of me?”

“They won’t,” Mrs. Marks said firmly, “And if they do, they’re not worth being around.”

Since the adoption, people had been nicer to her but she was still nervous. “I-I’ve never not had...my Mama,” she said.

It was starting to hurt again. “Your Mama is still here, watching over you. You’ve got me, Daddy, and your mom up in heaven. Three adults who love you, that’s a lot.”

“God too,” Daddy added.

He has to say that. He’s a pastor. With a little more confidence knowing she had more people in her corner, she was able to step out of the car when the pastor opened it for her. Hand in hand, matching all of the other families with their children, they walked her to the front of the third-grade doors. “This is it,” Mrs. Marks said, “You’re going to do so well!”

Her adults kneeled down and gave her a big hug and wet kisses on her cheek, though her Mommy gave her more. “I love you so much,” she whispered into her ear.

“I love you too Mommy,” Marilyn said, hugging her tightly.

“And your other Mama loves you too,” Mrs. Marks added.

“Thank you,” Marilyn whispered.

The fact that Mrs. Marks never tried to bury her Mama’s memory, meant the world to her. After another proper minute, the bell rang and the students congregated to their assigned lines. Marilyn bravely and confidently walked to her own, head held up high. I can do this! Have a growth mindset.

Her head did turn to see her parents waving goodbye to her before she was forced to move forward in line to the doors. When she passed the threshold, she became an official third-grader at Summerfield Elementary. Showtime.

The first few moments were chaotic as her teacher, a woman with dark black hair styled in a flick-up, directed students to put their items away on the coat rack. Marilyn was already in awe, the woman was incredibly beautiful with warm hazel almond-shaped eyes that made her feel comfortable. And the way her teacher was looking at her, she knew she’d already become a favorite of hers. Marilyn gave her a shy smile and wave before turning to find her desk, looking for her name tag: Marilyn Marks.

Part of her was thrilled that her last name was Marks, but she didn't know how to cope with not being Winslow. She already knew it was naughty, but she resolved to lightly trace the name Winslow underneath it later. To honor Mama. “Boys and girls, take your seats!” her teacher instructed, clapping her hands together.

Marilyn slid into the hard wooden seat and squirmed for a bit, before looking around. No Rodney Lord! Yesss! “I like your dress,” whispered a girl next to her.

She had dark red hair tied back into pigtail braids. Marilyn glanced at her name, Sara Barnes. “Thank you, I like your sweater,” she said sweetly as her eyes appreciated the blue cardigan.

“I’m new, wanna play with me at recess?”

Marilyn’s heart uplifted! “Okay!”

A friend! I can go and tell daddy I have a new friend after school! “I’m Sara.”

“I’m Marilyn,” she said as they quickly shook hands.

“Alright, settle down! Give me zero voices in 3,2,1!” her teacher said as a hush fell upon the classroom.

Marilyn’s soft green eyes landed on her beautiful teacher. Her teacher was a glamorous woman who wore a dark blue dress, as sharp as her cheekbones.

“I am so happy to see you all here today!” she cooed, clapping her hands together before picking up a piece of chalk, “I am your new teacher! You may call me...”

She began to spell out the letters: M-i-s-s. Miss. S-a-g-e-s-s-e. Sagesse.

“Miss Sagesse,” she said, making brief direct eye contact with Marilyn, “Welcome to 3rd grade.”

She knew it was too early, but Marilyn allowed herself to smile at the promising start of her first day back at school.

[bug13underscore]

Bookstore!au with trope exes and prompt “sometimes, i sit in bed and wonder what would happen if things were different.” For Alex/Wille

Not sure if you wanted them to get a happy ending, but that’s what I went with. 

Did I want to push my own bookstore-cafe-barista experience into this? Absolutely. Did I know how I wanted to go about that at first? Absolutely not, but I managed it. <3 I hope you enjoy this Anon!! <3 

“Hi! Welcome to Narne and Bobles, is there anything we can help you find today?” Willie’s voice drifted to the café from where he stood greeting people from his position in the front of the store, and Alex resisted everything in him that urged him to look across the floor, instead focusing on pressing the right buttons on the espresso machine. 

Forcing himself to focus on the three drinks to make in front of him, rather than relying on his muscle memory as usual, was harder today. It also didn’t help that he knew he was due for a break soon and would have to leave the sanctity of his café counter. He passed the three vanilla lattes over the counter to their recipients, just as his café counterpart came back from her break. 

“Hey, Jules.” He smiled as she pulled open the door to their kitchen. “Hair looks a little out of place, wanna pull it back again?” He teased, watching as she pulled her black apron over her head and yellow sweater. 

“Oh my god.” The girl groaned, quickly pulling her scrunchie out of her hair and adjusting it. “Remind me to kill Luke later, yeah?” 

“Tsk, tsk, Molina, kissing and murder on the job?” He gave a sharp laugh, beginning to make a drink for himself. 

“Shut up!” Julie bristled, picking up the nearest sharpie and tossing it at him. “Go on your break and leave me to complain.” 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m going.” He huffed, dipping over to their bake case and grabbing a croissant, drink already in hand. “I’ll pay for this after my shift, promise.” 

“Sure, sure.” She gave him a wink as he finally pulled off his apron, giving her a final wave before making his way through the store to clock out before heading to their break room. 

After entering the code to get into the back, he gave his (favorite but don’t tell the others) manager, Ray, a slight wave before he went back to their cluster of fold-out tables. Alex usually spent his breaks zoned out, allowing himself to process his day up to that point and he was beginning to do just that, when he’s sadly interrupted by another person coming onto break. 

The last person he wanted to see, to be honest. 

“Hey, Alex.” The other boy offered him a nervous smile, taking a seat at the opposite end of the table. 

“Hey, Willie.” He replied with an awkward smile, quickly taking a bite of his croissant. 

They say in the silent room for a while, he thinks, though when Alex checks the time on his phone it’s barely been five minutes. He has to hold back a groan, knowing that the next twenty-so minutes would be worse. 

Alex uses the knowledge that Ray is within earshot to comfort him. He wouldn’t know why he’d need Ray if anything did happen, but just knowing he was there was a comfort. 

Until he hears the telltale sound of the door to their employees-only area slams shut and no one new comes back here. Meaning that Ray left and it truly was just Alex and Willie back here. 

Fuck. 

“Can I be honest?” Willie’s voice is quiet, which almost feels like a punch in Alex’s gut, as he’d only known the boy to be so loud, volume wise and by personality. 

“About what?” Alex’s voice came out just as quiet, it felt like they were sharing secrets or talking after lights-out at that weird summer camp he used to go to. 

“Everything,” He paused, only continuing when Alex gave a curt nod. “Sometimes, I just sit in bed and wonder, y’know, what would happen if things were different.” 

Alex sits for a moment, processing the words that Willie said. ‘What would happen if things were different.’

It wasn’t as if he hadn’t thought those same words, some nights not sleeping because his brain was too busy coming up with alternate outcomes. 

“Me too.” He swallows, lunch long forgotten. “But things aren’t different, so we have to deal with them how they are now.” 

“What if we made them different?” Willie offered, his stare earnest and solid, voice more confident than it had been since this conversation started. 

Alex felt like he’d been thrown into a completely different world, with the option to change things being placed in front of him. He blinked a couple times, mind reeling. The feeling of anxiety in his stomach wasn’t new, it had been living with him near constantly his whole life, but with it came a sense of warmth, of excitement. 

“Yeah.” He heard himself say, although his voice sounded foreign in his ears. “How do we start?” 

“You’re off tonight?” Willie’s grin is blinding, his question is empty though. Alex knows that he knows he’s off tonight, neither of them usually worked Thursday evenings, but he nods anyway. “I’ll meet you here after your shift then, yeah?” Alex gives another nod before checking his phone. 

“Well, I better clock back in. I’ll see you later?” Alex feels giddy all of a sudden as he collects his stuff and cleans up. 

“I’ll see you later.” Willie looks as giddy as he feels, which comforts him a bit. He gives a wave and goes to clock back in before rejoining Julie in the cafe. 

“Hey, Jules.” Alex smiles, pulling his apron over his head. 

“Someone seems happy.” She walks past him with a couple dirty plates, hip-bumping him as she heads to their dish-pit. 

“I am.” He laughs, occupying himself with checking their ice station. “We talked.” 

“Oh, yeah?” Her voice was higher and Alex knew without looking at her that her eyebrows were cinched together and full of her usual sisterly concern. 

“Yeah.” He grinned, angling his body towards her. “I think we’re gonna be okay.” 

“That's good.” Julie laughed, coming to draw him into a hug. “I won’t have to have my dad fire him now.” 

“Jules, we talked about this, you can’t have him fire people just because they upset one of us.” 

“Okay, but to be fair, Mikey totally deserved it.” 

“Amendment, you can’t have Ray fire people for upsetting me or Luke. If they upset Reggie, it’s fair game.” 

“I think I like this amendment, this amendment is good. Speaking of which, I think Rodney from receiving is giving him shit again.” 

“Jesus fucking Christ, that guy again?” 

As they raddled into their usual work gossip for the next couple hours, Alex felt more at ease than he had in awhile. If he happens to grin across the store at Willie anytime they lock eyes and Julie notices, she doesn’t mention it. She certainly doesn’t mention it when Willie comes up and joins in their gossip for the first time in weeks and Alex can’t be more overjoyed at how the day had turned out.

[imalifegen89]

A Legacy Left Behind - Chapter - 5 - The Gemmond Incident

Part 5 - Final

Stargate Command, Cheyenne Mountain - Colorado

As promised, Lieutenant Colonel Cameron Mitchell had shown up with SG-1, which had included himself, Teal'c, Vala Mal Doran, and Dr. Daniel Jackson. Sam Carter had not been available since she had been called away to the Daedalus for an urgent matter. Dr. Rodney McKay and Dr. Radek Zelenka had both shown up in her place to specifically study the two downed crafts and find a solution to free the trapped Gemmondians. SG-3, SG-8, and SG-9 had accompanied the Colonel in order to disperse around the city and help with the clean-up and whatever other tasks the citizens were in need of help with. Dr. Sandy Van Denson and Dr. Ian Carmichael along with three other medical staff had also shown up, bringing along the promised medical assistance for the traumatized Gemmondians.

Sheppard and the team had been upgraded to local celebrity levels and almost all of the people there in the city had wanted to catch a glimpse of the Tau'ri who had managed to successfully wipe out the Wraith. The locals had insisted on the feast they had somehow managed to prepare despite everything and made the SG-11 the guests of honor. The team had stayed for a few minutes, enjoyed a few local cuisines, and taken their leave in quiet relief when Mitchell and the other teams had finally shown up to take over.

..........

"Fucking hell! Hearing about all this crap in the briefing and looking at nasty photos is one thing. But this, man - this is something else." Danny's voice was equal parts awe, fear, and incredulity.

"So, this telepathic attack basically had a domino effect on these creatures. Powerful as they are when they are mentally connected to each other, it can also be a major weakness. Too bad only the ATA gene carriers have this ability," Adam Noshimuri sounded wistful. He was fascinated by the footage they were all now going through of the day's operation.

SEALs always went on ops with recording apparatus as a part of their standard kit. SG-11 had permission to keep this particular Special-Operator-trait for their operations, in keeping with the Navy standards, and it came in handy. They could always study the ops footage later to get more information and also it could be used to educate other teams whenever they went through something like this. Only a few of the team had body cams that day since they had been going to a party. But they had managed to team up to maximize the coverage and now they had mostly complete footage of the entire operation.

They had all gone for their post-Gate-Hop medical checkups once they had returned to the mountain. As promised, Colonel Mitchell had retrieved the rest of the SG-11 from the village near the jungle and they had returned to the mountain about 20 minutes later. They all had reunited in the infirmary during their medical checkups. Sheppard, Lorne, and Danny had garnered extra attention - the first two because of their dealings with the Wraith and Danny for getting partially stunned. But they had all been cleared without needing to spend the day in the infirmary once the doctors had been satisfied. They had all had early dinners in the mess hall and the two pilots had retired to the quarters since they had both been still suffering from headaches. The rest of the team had gathered in one of the smaller recreational rooms to go through the footage and get their AARs (After Action Reports) done for the debriefing the next day. They had already gone through the cam feeds from Steve, Bates, and Vega and now knew what each team had faced. They had exchanged praises, criticisms, and good-natured ribbing while watching different areas of footage with fascination. Now they were all at the part from the cam Lorne had been wearing.

"Yeah, that's the thing. These guys are rare enough as it is. When the Wraith find out about this, they’re going to start hunting them. The gene carriers are a real threat to Wraith. All they have to do is ask the Goa'uld to take care of the gene carriers while they deal with the non-gene carriers. We’re going to have to try and keep this stuff under wraps as long as we can," said Vega, after they had all finished watching the feed.

"Keep what under wraps?" asked Sheppard at the end of a huge yawn. He was leaning against the door of the rec room and was wearing a black t-shirt, loose sweats, and a pair of slippers. He still looked half asleep and Steve wondered what had made the man wake up and come looking for them.

"Ah, sleeping beauty, come take a seat. We were just talking about your horror show," said Danny, with his usual lack of tact.

They were using the TV screen in the room to watch the feeds and a few laptops and PDAs were scattered on the stool in front of them. Steve, Adam, and Kono were sitting on the long couch, Danny, Bates, and Vega had claimed sofas and Cadman was settled between Higgins' stretched-out legs on the floor. Sheppard pushed off from the door frame and walked into the room eyeing the seating arrangement. Then he huffed and went to settle on Steve's lap, who let out a quiet laugh and moved to accommodate the burden. John wriggled and shifted until he was sitting comfortably, resting sideways on Steve's chest with his head on Steve's shoulder, and let his long legs dangle off the armrest of their side of the couch. Steve wrapped his arms around the sleep-warmed body on his lap and closed his eyes. Then John looked at Danny expectantly. Danny keyed a few commands on the laptop closest to him and started the feed from Lorne's cam for John to have a look.

Steve felt him tensing up the moment John saw himself on the screen. It occurred to Steve then, that this was the first time John had seen himself going through the 'online experience.' The other time he had been alone and when he was discovered, he was already back to normal. Steve rubbed his back, offering silent comfort.

"Wow! That's... um... disturbing. My eyes - they look creepy - I look creepy..." said John. He was thoroughly disturbed at witnessing his physical transformation.

"I don't know brah, I was once involved in a raid at a meth factory. I've seen creepier-looking dudes running around, believe me," said Kono matter-of-factly from the middle of the sofa.

"And I know for a fact that you are a complete lunatic. One, because I've seen you fly and have had the misfortune to fly with you several times. Two, you are dating the other lunatic you are sitting on. So this little drama is nothing. I wasn't even that surprised," said Danny, his hand slicing away at the space in front of him, emphasizing his point. John and Steve both sent identical glares at Danny who just upped the wattage of his shit-eating grin.

John could clearly see the easy acceptance from his team of his rather weird ability, and That made it much easier for him to accept the fact himself. (He did remember how Lorne had looked during the change. Okay - he had looked like he was high on something - but not a full-on-mutant like John, though.)

"So the point we were discussing was, to keep this bit of intel from falling into the claws of the Wraith because that would lead to those fuckers declaring open-season on gene-carriers," said Bates, with a grimace. The others nodded in response.

"Dr. Carson is working on artificial gene therapy. He says his serum would have a 75% chance at activating junk DNA in a non-gene carrier to become ATA positive. I actually helped him to find some information he needed from the Alteran archives back in Antarctica. The way things are going, we are going to need him to deliver soon, so that we'll have enough people to deal with these assholes," said John thoughtfully, his mind drifting back to discussions he had with the Scottish doctor during his visits to the Defense Outpost in Antarctica.

"Yeah, and let's not forget the Snake-Heads. At least we have some sort of warning system against the Wraith. But the Goa'uld - do we even have a way of identifying them in advance?” The question was from Steve. he still had his eyes closed, enjoying the proximity to John.

"There are some medical scans that can spot them. Other than that, the Jaffa and some of the previous hosts, like Vala and Carter can sense them. Of course, the Tok'ra would know. But that's about it I think," said Cadman, remembering the facts from Daniel Jackson's lectures.

"Yeah, they've been quiet enough on earth for what, closer to two months now? But busy stirring trouble in other worlds? Whatever they are planning, we are not going to like it much when it happens. I really can do without these times of suspense, you know?" said Vega.

"I know it's tempting fate, but I do agree. By the way, did you guys hear? The word is, that the big boss is going to show up tomorrow. Probably for our briefing. He usually shows up when things are really going to get sent up the creek without paddles," informed Cadman conspiratorially.

"What big boss?" asked Sheppard at the same time Steve asked, "Where do you even hear this stuff from anyway, hah?"

"Oh, I've got my sources, Mr. Major, Mr. Lieutenant Commander," said Cadman, grinning from ear to ear.

"Awesome. Better get our paperwork and shit together then, yeah?" suggested Bates and grabbed the PDA closest to him.

Sheppard slid off the comfortable lap he was sitting on and settled on the floor between the Commander’s legs, then grabbed two PDAs - one for himself and one for Steve. They all then got busy with their respective reports on the day's events.

..........

Early next morning, Sheppard was sitting inside the Jumper helping the Air Force Lt. Colonel Samantha Carter to extract the data pertaining to their jaunt in Gemmond. He was transferring the flight records, blueprints of the Darts and Wraith Dart Carrier, all details about hull compositions, weapons, and other data, the scans and the footage the Jumper had managed to capture to Carter's PDA. When the data transfer finished, Samantha Carter went away, letting Sheppard know that they'd be called in for the debrief later on.

He knew that Kono and Steve had also prepared a comprehensible version from all the cam feeds they had on themselves during the mission as well. They had all submitted their detailed AARs to the SGC server already and were now waiting to be called to the briefing room for a Q&A session with the General and whoever else was present.

The summons came via Sergeant Harriman who came to fetch the SG-11 team leaders, Sheppard and McGarrett, into the main Briefing Room just after breakfast.

Briefing Room, SGC, Cheyenne Mountain - Colorado

Entering the Briefing Room, Sheppard experienced a feeling of déjà vu, since the atmosphere held the same intensity as his first briefing at the same place, several weeks ago.

This time there were more participants. Even in his BDUs, the bald Major General had an imposing presence. Brigadier General Jack O'Neill was sitting to his right and Lt. Colonel Cameron Mitchell was to his left. Next to O'Neill were Dr. Daniel Jackson and Lt. Colonel Samantha Carter with Teal'c sitting beside Mitchell. Dr. Rodney McKay was also present, busily typing on the laptop in front of him while munching on what looked like a blueberry muffin. Dr. Zelenka was sitting next to him trying hard to look like he had absolutely no association with McKay. SG-11 leaders had the seats on the opposite side of the big conference table, facing everyone, completing the assembly. There were two projector screens, on opposite sides, so no one had to twist their necks to see the feeds or any other data that was projected onto the screens. They also had their own PDAs or laptops with them, so they had ready access to anything they needed at any moment.

"General, you wanted to meet the trouble magnets. Well, here they are. The team leaders of SG-11." General O'Neill made an unorthodox introduction as they both entered the room and gathered in front of the conference table.

"You shouldn't complain much O'Neill, when you were the one who was bugging me for a group of special operators in your ranks. Now you've got some, and if they’re bringing extra workload for you, well, you've got no one else to blame," said General Hammond pleasantly.

"You know, it was more like Marshall's wish, come to think of it," O'Neill informed General Hammond. Colonel Marshall Sumner who was at the Earth Alpha site on an inspection, was not there to defend himself.

General Hammond shook his head in amusement, already much used to General O'Neill's eccentric ways, and turned to address SG-11." Anyway, gentlemen, it's a pleasure to finally meet you two. I have seen your personal files and the files of everyone in your team, of course, but I always like to meet trouble magnets in person, whenever I can manage. Please sit and make yourselves comfortable. We’re going to be here for a while," he informed the Major and the Lt. Commander.

"Major Sheppard, if you can please give a brief report of what took place in Gemmond?" he looked to Sheppard once they were seated.

Sheppard recounted the mission as ordered. He started from the point where they had to force the connection to Gemmond via the Jumper's DHD and detailed their entry to the hot zone. Then he briefly described the recon they conducted and the subsequent entry to the Wraith Carrier. Then he recounted the rescue operations and the entanglement with Wraith. He then summarized blowing up the ship, how they split up to accompany the Gemmondians and how the rest of them returned to the gate to report back to SGC, followed by the handover to Lt. Colonel Mitchell who showed up to take over the clean up. Once he finished, General Hammond turned to Mitchell.

"Lt. Colonel Mitchell, will you tell us what happened next?"

"Yes Sir. I went to Gemmond with SG-1, SG-3, SG-8, and SG-9. SG-3 was sent with the medical staff to the city to provide medical help and SG-8 went with them to help with the clean-up. I dropped off the Doctors McKay and Zelenka at the Dart crash sites along with Teal'c and SG-9 and took the Jumper to orbit to run a scan in near space. There were no other Wraith Spaceships in the vicinity. Then I returned to the city and stayed there to coordinate with the city council. I also spoke to some of those travelers who were taking refuge in Gemmond. They were from Holdus, Aegis, some even from Charos. They all had similar stories about this 'Culling', as they called it. It seems that this started about two weeks ago and there seem to be few other worlds targeted as well. So far they've been avoiding the technologically advanced planets though," continued Mitchell. "Then I took a trip to the village near the jungle where the rescued Gemmondians gathered with a couple of medical staff. They were all okay and being taken care of by the Nasyans. We spent the whole day in the city and the clean-up was rather quick, seeing as SG-11 got there pretty quickly and the Wraith didn't have much time for a larger attack. Then I collected the Doctors from where they were camping near crash sites and returned to the mountain for the debrief."

The General then turned his attention towards the two scientists;

"So Dr. McKay, Dr. Zelenka - any luck extracting the people stuck in those Darts?" he asked.

"Hmm, we've scanned those two Wraith Darts and found a way to connect with their interfaces. Basically, we’ve gone over the controls that dematerialize people, store their information, and then rematerialize them again when commanded to. It's a very complex process and requires a lot of power. Now, the Dart I scanned has five life signs and Radek's one has eight life signs. But according to the power readings we've got, those darts don't have enough power to rematerialize people on their own. But we can hook up a Naquadah generator into each of them and give a bit of extra oomph to restart the controls and activate the beam. Sort of like jump-starting a car battery." Rodney looked quite proud at having managed a properly dumbed-down report for the academically challenged.

"Ano, Rodney, we discussed this. There is a chance that those generators might not be the best way to restart those controls. You mustn't forget the biological components in those Darts - they are not like normal batteries that we can jump-start." Dr. Radek Zelenka pushed his spectacles further up his nose and reminded Rodney.

"I know, but if we regulate the levels and write a subroutine to abort if it gets over the power levels we need, it'd be fine." Rodney turned to face the Czech scientist and gestured with his muffin.

"A subroutine that we need to translate to match the coding on the interface. Yes, yes! It might work. But then we need..." Zelenka had already started typing something fast and McKay was leaning over to watch his screen.

"Ah, wait, there," he interrupted and the Czech said something unintelligible in his own language, still typing away. Now Rodney had abandoned his muffin and was also busy on his PDA while talking to Zelenka about code.

The two scientists had forgotten about the rest of the assembly and were completely immersed in their planning, typing, and conversing in increasingly complex scientific jargon. General Hammond let it continue for a while and then decided to interrupt when the scientists showed no signs of returning to the briefing. Out of all of them, only Carter seemed to be able to follow the dialog between them with an amused look on her face.

"As riveting as it is to be listening to you two gentlemen, can you please tell us whether this venture is possible or not? We really don't need to know the exact process," Hammond asked them both with great patience.

"Yes, General. We can do this. Maybe by tomorrow evening, we should be done. We will need a Naquadah generator though," said McKay, without looking up or without stopping his typing.

"Jack, can you accommodate that?" asked the Major General.

"Yeah, I'm sure we have one or two of those lying around here, somewhere," General Jack O'Neil replied, looking pointedly at Sergeant Harriman who confirmed with a firm nod.

"Well, then," started General Hammond, but was interrupted by Dr. Zelenka. "Can we be excused? We need to clean this up and get a proper program before we need to return to the planet."

"Yes, please. You may both take your leaves, doctors." A rather relieved General excused the pair without further delay. They both got up with their PDAs and left the room, bickering about the code and power levels.

"Commander, I was informed you have the footage of the entire operation?" he then inquired of McGarrett, who confirmed. "Now, Jack, I think this is something we should get all our Gate teams to start practicing. There is always one team or another who runs into something unexpected whenever they conduct Gate operations." He turned to the General.

"Yeah, I agree. But there is a concern, you know? What with the IOA and all their crap about respecting the privacy of the natives and such. SG-11 has a bit of leeway on this because they are a joint ops team and we had agreed to keep up their SEAL standards. So all their Gate missions go under Special-Operations per that agreement with the Navy. I think it's about time we took a long hard look at those pesky civilian regulations, especially since it's starting to look like trouble's brewing," said Jack O'Neill, for once looking completely serious.

"Hmm, I have a meeting with the IOA in a few days. I'll speak to the President as well before I meet with them. The chances are that we are going to have to raise the threat levels and will have to change some protocols accordingly, very soon," replied the General. He was already thinking about reaching out to the other races with advanced technologies and capabilities the earth had connections with; about this latest threat and ways to defend against it.

He then turned to Samantha Carter. "Carter, I'd like to review that footage now please."

Lt. Colonel Carter projected the video onto the screens on either side while Harriman dimmed the lights in the conference room. For the next 90 minutes or so, the entire conference room was quiet except for the sounds coming from the footage of the mission.

General O'Neill took it upon himself to break the thick silence that had descended in the Briefing Room at the end of the mission footage. "You know, I remember I sent SG-6 last year to Gemmond for the harvest celebrations. They brought back cake - really nice cake - and even nicer wine," he said wistfully, and then turned to where Sergeant Harriman was seated. "Walter, remind me next year when the time comes around, yeah?"

"Of course, General," the Sergeant replied with an equally serious air.

"That was an excellent bit of soldiering. My compliments to your team. Well done." General Hammond said. He was extremely impressed with the way the team handled the situation. He had harbored some concerns about how well they could mesh a SEAL team with an SGC team and this incident proved that it could be done quite seamlessly. He could see that each and every member brought a unique and impressive skill set to the team.

"Jack, I need a copy of this footage and all other data collected in a summarized report so I can present this to the president and the IOA. I might call an extra-planetary meeting to discuss this too. So be ready. And keep me posted if you get news from other planets on any encounters like this," He informed O'Neill. "So far, is there anything on the surveillance on those satellites and the Goa'uld activity?" he inquired.

"Nothing, but I believe this explains why they are waiting for the Wraith to stock up on supplies before starting whatever they are planning on. I have a feeling this might include an armada or two of alien fleets by the way things are going," said Jack O'Neill thoughtfully.

"The work on Prometheus is nearly completed. She will undergo her space trials in the next month, bringing our fleet to six. We shall see if we can persuade our allies to contribute as well. This information might just be what we need to apply that persuasion," General Hammond reflected. "All right people, thank you for your time. I will be in touch." He stood up, bringing the briefing to an end.

With that, everyone stood up as General George Hammond took his leave.

..........

It had been two days since the meeting with Major General George Hammond and SG-11 had just returned from a training session at the Alpha site, off-world. They had completed the medical checkups, cleaned themselves up, and were seated around a long table enjoying their dinner in the mess hall when Steve's phone started ringing.

The call came from a landline bearing a Hawaiian prefix. "Is this Mr. Steven McGarrett?" The voice was female. Steve winced at the 'Mr.' involuntarily, not used to being addressed as such.

"Yes, that's me. Who is this?" he asked.

"Sir, my name is Diana Curtis and I'm calling from Honolulu General Hospital. You’re listed as the next of kin for Captain John McGarrett. He was admitted to the hospital yesterday when he suffered a heart attack. Sir, his condition is stable for now. But we'd like you to be here and visit him if it is at all possible?” The professional no-nonsense voice delivered the news in such a calm manner, it took Steve a few seconds to register what the woman was saying and the seriousness of the situation.

"WHAT?" he barked into the phone, when he had recovered from the shock. The team sitting around him all stopped what they were doing and stared at Steve.

"Mr. McGarrett, please calm down. Your father's condition is stable for the moment. He was brought to the hospital on time. Are you able to make it here safely as soon as possible? Is there anyone who could bring you here?" The hospital admin on the line tried to placate the very agitated SEAL.

"Uh? Yes, yes. I'm not in Hawaii at the moment. But yes, I'll be there as soon as I can. Thank you for calling and letting me know," Steve collected himself enough to reply. His mind was still reeling at the shocking news he had just received. He had called his old man only two days ago and he had sounded fine on the phone - even happier at the fact that Steve was stationed somewhere in the mainland and could call home more or less on a regular basis.

"You’re welcome sir," the voice said crisply and disconnected the call. Steve stared at the phone in his hand dumbly, his mind refusing to cooperate and start being useful for the moment.

"Steve, what was that all about?" The touch on his arm and the concerned face of John - which was quite close to his - brought him back from the stupor he had got lost in. Steve stared at him for a moment and then found the words to reply.

"That was the Honolulu General. My dad, he's in the hospital, he had a heart attack," Steve said in a dull tone, still not able to believe that it was real. He felt John's grip tighten around his arm at the revelation.

"What? When? How?" Questions bombarded him incredulously. Steve took a couple of deep breaths in an attempt to bring his turbulent mind into some semblance of control and deal with the situation.

"I don't know, but I need to go there now," he said decisively, standing up.

"Hey, Steve, hey, they didn't say it's bad, did they? Just don't go by yourself." John was also standing with him and he realized John was holding him by the shoulders, shaking him slightly. He grabbed onto John automatically, his presence so close to him, helping Steve to ground himself. He concentrated on what John was saying to him and could hear the regret in his voice at not being able to go with Steve. They were the team leaders of SG-11 and one had to be at the mountain if the other was going to be unavailable.

"Don't worry man, I'll go with him," Danny was also standing up and looking worried. He also looked determined to follow the SEAL home no matter what Steve had to say about it.

"I need to go pack a bag, and yeah, Danny, you can come with," said Steve, starting to mentally list the things he needed to do in order to get moving.

"I'll help," Kono volunteered.

"Let me talk to Walter and contact Peterson AFB - there might be a transport or something going that way. It'd be quicker," Sheppard suggested, and was already moving towards the elevator to go to level 27. "I'll come back and see you in your quarters," he threw back over his shoulder as he entered the elevator.

"Shit, I need to apply for leave," said Steve, watching John disappear into the lift.

"Don't stress Commander, we'll take care of it." Bates patted him on the back and Cadman nodded along. "We will apply on behalf of you two. This is an emergency. So it'll be fine," said Vega. Then she and Bates both took off towards the HR offices to handle the paperwork for their Commander's emergency leave.

"Thanks, guys," Steve shouted after them. And then he hurried towards his own quarters with the rest of his team tagging along. He already had a duffel packed for emergencies and only needed to add a few more things. He tried calling his dad’s friend but the call went to voicemail. He figured that he could try contacting them once he reached the hospital. He wouldn't even think about calling his sister until he had the chance to see his father and knew more about his condition.

..........

Within 20 minutes, Steve and Danny were both waiting by the exit at Cheyenne mountain for the vehicle that had been signed off for them to be delivered to Peterson AFB. Walter had made the arrangements. There was an army cargo plane making a training run to Hickam and he had managed to arrange transport for the two SEALs with it. They'd make their own way back after the visit to the hospital.

"Steve, listen, it's gonna be alright. You hear me? It'll be fine! Your dad's a tough guy, he'll be fine." Sheppard was holding his face in his hands and Steve found himself nodding along to the assurances pouring out of his boyfriend. Then John kissed him softly on the lips and Steve sighed, leaning into the comfort. He rested his forehead on John's and wished with all his heart to wake up and realize that this was all just a bad dream.

"And don't forget to call, yeah?" John implored as he straightened and very reluctantly let go of Steve.

"Sure John, I'll call," He promised as the SUV came to a stop in front of them. He and Danny both got in and seated themselves. He then gave a short wave to John who was still standing there by the exit watching them leave. Steve hoped what John had told him would be true, that his dad would be able to make it through. He was not ready to lose his only remaining parent. ‘God please, not again! Not so soon...' His mind was repeating the mantra as Steve let out a weary sigh and closed his eyes.

[trickthecloak]

Whumptober 2020 Day 10

No 10. THEY LOOK SO PRETTY WHEN THEY BLEED Blood Loss | Internal Bleeding | Trail of Blood

"Halt! Please, let me thro- Halt!"

Halt twisted in the sentry's supportive grip at the voice of his young apprentice, swaying slightly at the movement while unsuccessfully trying to blink away the dizziness. He just needed the world to stop spinning so he could find and reassure his apprentice before spending some quality time with the infirmary... a feat that would be made much easier if his knees weren't trying to buckle-

"Take Halt inside to the infirmary; and someone, alert Baron Arald!"

That would be Rodney, Halt thought dimly, recognizing the authoritative tone as he was pulled across the courtyard. His awareness frantically slipping, the last coherent, salty thought that crossed the Ranger's mind before he blacked out was I hate blood loss.

(line break)

"Wait! No, please!"

It was Rodney who caught Gilan's thin shoulders, holding the boy back as Halt disappeared into the castle. "Just calm down a moment. It's Gilan, right?" The Battlemaster asked, and the boy gave a small nod. Rodney continued, trying his hardest to sound reassuring. "Halt's shoulder needs to examined. Now, his horse came in with a bad limp. You'll be helping most by looking after it. Can you do that?"

Gilan turned to look at where Abelard stood quietly, unmoving from where Halt had been pulled off his back. Brownish stains marred the grey of his mane and neck, and one front foot was held at a rest off the ground. "Yes, sir," was Gilan's hoarse response, and Rodney responded with a clap on the shoulder that almost made the boy stagger.

"Good man," the Battlemaster answered approvingly, before striding purposely toward the castle doors, barking orders in his wake.

...As if he hadn't just left a scared, shaking fourteen-year-old standing lost on the courtyard cobblestones.

It was with a shuddering breath that Gilan shuffled over to collect Abelard. The small, shaggy horse lifted his head slightly at the familiar figure, and Gilan felt tears well as he took in the bloodstains -Halt's blood- and the horse's dull, tired, pained eyes. "It's all right, Abelard," Gilan crooned thickly as he straightened the animal's forelock. "He'll be all right."

It was slow going that the trio made their way back to the cabin. Blaze kept her pace measured with Abelard's, even on the long rein Gilan had her on from where he sat bareback. Abelard hobbled alongside without a lead rope, his faltering shuffle making Gilan wince with every step.

"Hang on, Abelard. Almost there, friend."

By the time they entered the cabin's clearing, Abelard wasn't bearing weight on the left front at all. Gilan swung off of his mare in a fluid movement and pulled the bridle off her ears before turning his attention to his mentor's horse. Blaze immediately entered her stall and turned around so her head hung through the open door - out of the way, but still attentive on her rider and companion.

Gilan had pulled off Abelard's saddle and bridle, the horse giving a low groan of relief. Gilan gave the horse a pat before crouching to inspect his hoof. A deep bruise on Abelard's hoof sole greeted him, and Gilan hissed through his teeth. "Well, that's no good, is it, boy?" Gilan said as he set the hoof back down and patted Abelard's neck. A sole bruise certainly was painful; however, it also could have been much worse.

Gilan set out generous piles of hay in both stalls before scouting out two spare buckets, filling both with water. In one, he prepared a herb soak for Abelard's bruise. The other bucket he left alone, instead grabbing a clean rag from the grooming tools.

As Abelard's foot soaked, Gilan scrubbed the crusted blood from the horse's coat. The water was dark by the time he had finished. After dumping the water from both buckets, Gilan removed five apples from the barrel - two for Blaze, three for Abelard. At Blaze's glare, Gilan tapped her nose gently as he fed the mare her treats.

"Don't be jealous, Blaze. Abelard's had a rough day," he scolded her. Abelard's ears perked, and Gilan gave the barest trace smile at the stallion's low whicker.

"Here, Abe. We won't tell Halt," the apprentice said, his voice catching on the last word. Now that he was no longer distracted by caring for Abelard, fear and worry were coursing through Gilan's body.

There had been so much blood. Gilan might be young, but he knew all too well there was only so much blood a human body could stand to lose before it was too much. Halt could be dead.

Halt could be dead, and Abelard was hurt, and Gilan was alone.

Tears welled yet again in the apprentice Ranger's eyes, and he heavily sank to his knees, wrapping his arms around himself. He couldn't recall ever feeling this afraid before. Halt had been attacked by someone - and someone skilled, because Halt was no easy foe. They had to know that Halt was a Ranger, and it would be simple enough to learn where the fief's Ranger resided.

They could be coming right now.

Gilan's heart pounded faster, a dry sob tearing out of his throat. He was alone.

He couldn't leave the cabin. Abelard was in no state to be moved or to defend himself, and Gilan wouldn't leave him. Who knew what might happen to the horse should Halt's attacker show.

Heaving himself to his feet, Gilan stood and moved to drag the stable doors closed before turning and settling on the straw between the two stalls, keeping his eyes trained on the opening. His sword was drawn and resting across his knees. Gilan wasn't yet comfortable with Ranger weapons; they were strange and unfamiliar. The sword, however, was a comforting weight in his hands. Gilan could defend himself with a sword.

Gilan sat there for a long time - far longer then he'd ever sat still before, flighty and impatient as he was. The sky darkened, and the boy barely noticed his eyes slipping shut, fingers never leaving the sword hilt.

(line break)

"Are you sure you want to go back to the cabin already, Halt? Only yesterday you were dead on your feet."

The Ranger shrugged at Arald's concern. "I'm up now. There's nothing the infirmary can do for me that I can't do in my own home. I'll just collect Gilan and be on my way."

Arald tilted his head in confusion. "Collect Gilan? He should be at the cabin, shouldn't he, Rodney?" The Baron asked, turning to his Battlemaster.

Rodney nodded. "I told him to look after your horse, Halt. The boy wanted to see you, but you were unconscious and needed to be examined; he'd have only been in the way. I thought it best to give him something to do to take his mind off it."

"And it didn't once cross your mind to perhaps offer him a room to wait in until I was able to be seen?"

Rodney shifted uncomfortably, realizing his mistake. "Gilan didn't seem to mind taking the horse," he tried, and Halt gave a low scoff.

"I'm sure he didn't."

Gilan had long been trained in a rigorous school. Though Halt knew the boy had a history of somewhat resisting the rigid conformities of Battleschool, strict training died hard. In Gilan's current state, the boy would never talk back to or disrespect a Battlemaster over something that was likely interpreted as a direct order.

There was an awkward silence between the three men, and Halt sighed. "I take it that at least news about my condition and a plate of food were sent over to him last night?"

Arald withered under Halt's questioning stare. "Well... erm..." The Baron coughed, rubbing the back of his neck.

Halt's face tightened. "I see. I'll be leaving now - I have an apprentice to check on, you see. Though, why would we even bother checking on apprentices? I mean, they're only children."

With that, Halt swept out on a spin of his heel.

Both the Baron and his Battlemaster gave sighs of relief at not being the center of attention of the Corps most intimidating Ranger, before turning to look at each other, wearing twin expressions of self-reproach.

(line break)

Halt slowly made his way up the path to his cabin, grimacing as the stitches in his collarbone pulled. A talkative stable boy had accompanied him to the base of the cabin's path, before cheerfully bidding him farewell and retreating back up the trail to the castle, ponying behind him the borrowed horse Halt had ridden.

On approach, the cabin was dark and quiet. Halt frowned... then Abelard's greeting whinny split the air from inside the stables. Halt felt his lips twitch upwards at the sound, and he shifted course towards the small barn, intent on giving his faithful horse a quick once-over; and maybe just one apple.

As the Ranger approached, the barn doors hesitantly creaked open, ever so slightly... before suddenly being flung wide.

The next moment, Halt found himself staggering back under the weight of his apprentice barreling into him.

"Halt! I was so worried, no one would tell me anything and I didn't know what to do, and I was so scared, are you okay-"

"Stitches," Halt reminded the boy, wincing slightly at the tight grip. "And take a breath." Halt may not have known Gilan for long, but he'd known him long enough to be familiar with his tendency to vomit words when he was overly excited or nervous.

Gilan took a shuddering breath, but relaxed his hold only fractionally. Halt frowned at Gilan's red, puffy eyes and salt stained cheeks. "Were you out here all night?" The Ranger questioned, and raised an eyebrow at Gilan's nod. "Why on earth didn't you go into the cabin? Or back to the castle, for that matter?"

"I, I thought you were dead, and there was so much blood, and I was so scared, I thought, I thought they were coming and I didn't know what to do, and-" Gilan gulped for air, his wide eyes shiny. "And I couldn't leave Abelard. He's lame, he couldn't have gotten away, and I, I couldn't leave him."

Halt was silent for a moment, feeling a powerful surge of affection for the apprentice still clutching his middle. Halt had initially been hesitant and even a little apprehensive about taking on an apprentice - however, as the Ranger considered the completely too tall, too thin, and too cheerful boy before him... Well, Halt knew he'd picked a good one.

Halt roughly cleared his throat, and Gilan finally relaxed his gasp and stepped back.

"I think it's time you learned how to make oatmeal."

[impala-dreamer]

Sleeping Beauty

SPN FanFic

~Sometimes it takes a curse for magic to really happen.~

Sam x Reader, Dean

2,605 Words

Warnings; Fluffy McFluff-Fluff, Tiny bit o'Angst, Show level everything. Case, Curse, Ending. ;)

A/N: I just woke up with this in my head ... idk where it came from. Hope you enjoy!

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Cheryl hoisted her giant purse over her left shoulder and attempted to balance the two overstuffed paper shopping bags in both arms. She barely had the leverage to shut the trunk but she managed.

"Phil!"

She called her husband as she rushed to the back door, narrowly avoiding tripping over the garden hose he had once again neglected to coil and put away.

"Phil!"

She kicked the door twice and waited for assistance, but there was no answer. The carton of eggs precariously perched atop the fuller bag almost took a nose dive onto cracked cement steps as she rolled her eyes and opened the door herself.

"I swear to god, if he's watching football while I'm out here struggling-" Cheryl mumbled to herself, stopping short as the back door refused to budge. It opened a quarter of the way and then stopped, held back by something heavy on the floor.

“Phil! Goddamnit!”

Giving up, Cheryl put down the grocery bags and dropped her purse on the second step. She pushed as she called her husband again, shoving at the door with her shoulder. It moved another few inches, the old wood creaking in protest at the weight against it, but it was enough for Cheryl to slip inside.

Next door, Rodney Miller was just sitting down for his nightly after dinner tea and coffee cake consumption when a scream hit his ears. He lifted his eyes to the window, the one facing the Lapinski’s house. His neighbor screamed again, but Rodney chose to ignore it with a heavy sigh and focus on his desert. They were always yelling at each other anyway, causing a ruckus in the quiet neighborhood; why would tonight be any different?

“Latest victims, Mr. and Mrs. Lapinski, found unresponsive in their kitchen two nights ago.” Sam spoke but did not look up from his phone, still scanning the police reports.

“Bummer,” Dean said cooly, right hand casually slung on the bottom of the steering wheel. He shifted in his seat and rolled down the window a bit more, enjoying the cool autumn breeze. “Man, this is nice.”

Sam startled, finally looking up with a hard glare of disbelief. “Nice?” he scoffed. “Dean, four people have fallen into mysterious comas in the last two weeks. They are basically brain dead and there’s no explanation or cure. How is that nice?”

Y/N grinned to herself in the backseat and closed her eyes as the wind from Dean's window struck her in the face. She took a deep breath and relaxed against the door.

"I'm not saying the comas are nice. Jesus, Sam."

“You just said-” He stopped himself and looked back at Y/N, hoping for some backup. She merely shrugged and held in a laugh. “Thanks for your help,” Sam sighed, turning back to his phone.

Y/N let out the laugh. “I think I know enough not to get in between brotherly banter.”

Dean chuckled to himself and nodded while Sam turned to eye her over his shoulder. He was annoyed but couldn’t help the smile that took over his pink lips. She was just too pretty when she laughed, too enticing when she was happy; all the time, really.

When her eyes met his, Sam turned away, blushing hard and hoping that his hair would hide it. Dean caught a glimpse of the moment from the corner of his eye and shook his head. The two were always dancing around each other in some strange game of waiting for the other to catch up. Dean couldn’t understand why neither realized they were both on the exact same footing.

“So, there’s no signs of trauma or anything like that?” Sam asked the doctor, his hazel eyes focused and concerned under a curtain of long hair.

The short man sighed. “Blood work came back fine, too. They just...went to sleep and can’t wake up. It makes no sense.”

Y/N looked back at Mr. Lapinski lying in bed. “Looks kind of peaceful. I could use a nap.”

Sam cleared his throat angrily and the doctor gave her a suspicious look.

“Agents, if that’s all, I do have other patients.”

Sam nodded and Y/N smiled apologetically.

“Yes, thank you for your time, Dr. Williams,” she said, walking with him to the door. As soon as he was gone, Sam hissed at her.

“What’s wrong with you?”

Y/N’s eyes went wide with innocence. “What? Your girl is exhausted. We’ve been on the road for over three weeks without a break. I’m tired.”

Sam softened a bit and licked his lips. “Yeah, I know. I’m sorry. Dean...he just needs to keep busy right now. After everything he went through-”

“I’d think he needed a nap, too!” Y/N interjected, trying to get Sam to smile. “Oh, come on, dude. Gimme a chuckle at least. Something!”

Sam tipped his head and sighed. “We have a case, Y/N.”

She looked around the room in sarcastic shock. “No...really?”

He glared down at her. “Y/N…”

She scrunched up her nose at him. “Sam…”

He couldn’t help but smile.

“There it is!” she cheered quietly and reached up to pinch his cheek. “I knew you had some smiles in you. Now… let’s get out of here; Mr. Lap-whatever is freaking me out.”

The house wasn’t impressive in any way, just a house, on a street, like a million others.

Y/N and the Winchesters made their way inside, easily opening the door and slipping past the police tape. There was no one home, nor would there be for a long while, so they were in no rush and didn’t bother sneaking around.

Dean went upstairs and Sam took the basement, leaving Y/N to investigate the first floor on her own. To dispel any anxiety of being in a potentially dangerous house, Y/N flipped on any light she came across and kept her gun on the ready.

Living room, dining room, hallway, and something that looked like an office were all clear. No signs of EMF or anything obvious. There were no hex bags that Y/N could see, no sulfur or ectoplasm; nothing jumped out at her.

The kitchen was newly renovated and smelled like lemons. A bank of oak cabinets sat to Y/N’s left with sunk in black appliances and a large granite island took up the center of the room. The counters were tidy and the fixtures clean. Again, nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

Ready to give up, Y/N slumped over the island counter, leaning down to take a little break and think. To her right was the back door where the police had found the tragically sleepy husband and wife, and Y/N stared at the floor, trying to puzzle together some stroke of genius to hit the guys with.

Nothing came to her. Not a single idea.

“Well, shit.”

Y/N pushed up from the island and grabbed her EMF reader, ready to move on, maybe go help Sam. As she turned, a bowl of fake fruit by the sink caught her attention.

“Oh… maybe a hex bag hiding place?” she thought aloud, making her way towards it.

Glass grapes, a ceramic banana, and a brass apple all sat nicely arranged in a milk glass bowl. Y/N picked up the apple to look beneath it, but the bowl was shallow and there was nothing hiding.

“Damnit.”

Y/N sighed in defeat and put the apple back, deciding to go find Sam. The door to the basement was in the hallway behind her, so Y/N spun on her heel and aimed herself that way.

Coming out of the spin was like coming off of a tilt-a-whirl. Y/N blinked wildly as her vision blurred for a moment. She shook it off and kept going, figuring she was more in need of that nap than she thought.

“Tonight,” she told herself. “Tonight, you’re gonna use that tub in the motel room no matter how grimey it looks. A bath and a beer and then goodnight, Y/N.”

“Talking to yourself again?”

Y/N looked up to see Sam coming up from the basement, ducking his head as he stepped out of the short doorframe.

“No,” she scoffed, turning her lip at him. “Maybe.”

Sam smiled and shut the door behind him. “Don’t worry,” he told her in a whisper, “I think it’s cute.”

“Sam…” She bit her lip and smiled up at him. “Do you think-” She meant to flirt, to say something teasingly adorable, but a yawn came out of nowhere, tickling the back of her throat until she had no choice but to give in to it. “Damn, I’m sorry.”

“All good.” Sam paused for a moment as if he wanted to say more, but gave up as Y/N yawned again. “Wow, you really do need a nap.”

“I told you!” she laughed. “OK, look, first floor is clean from what I can see. Anything lurking downstairs?”

“Cellar is clear,” he reported.

“Cellar? Who says cellar?” Y/N rubbed at her eyes as they began to water.  

“Are you OK?” he asked, watching her mouth open with a yawn for the third time.

“What?” She blinked up at him, suddenly very warm and groggy. “Yeah, I’m- I’m fine. Let’s keep moving.”

Sam nodded and lead the way, trekking down the hallway back towards the front door. Y/N followed closely behind, but soon her feet began to drag, limbs feeling heavier with each step.

Y/N shook it off. “So...do we know what we're looking for exactly?” She asked, watching Sam stick his head into a coat closet that she’d already been through.

His voice was muffled by jackets. “My guess is a cursed object, which seems easy but how many objects are in a single house, ya know?”

“Mhm.” Y/N could feel herself fading. Every exhale made her more sleepy, more warm and happy. “I think you might be right,” she murmured behind a long yawn that made her eyes close and her head roll. “Oh...shit.” The apple. “Um... Sam?”

He turned in time to see her sway on her feet and slam into the wall as she fell.

“Y/N!” He rushed back to her, scooping her up from the floor. “Hey! Y/N!” Panic rushed through his system and Sam slapped her cheek, waking her back up. “What did you do?”

She stared up at him, lips moving slowly but unable to speak. “I…”

Sam shook her shoulder but it was no good, the curse was taking hold. “Y/N, stay with me. Dean!”

“Apples,” she whispered with a dreamy smile. “The apple.”

Sam strained his neck to look up the stairs, yelling for his brother once more. “Dean!”

“It’s a apple, Sam…” Y/N reached up a stiff arm and stroked the tip of his nose. “I like this.”

Sam looked down at her, frantic and confused. “Like what? Hey, hey, come on, stay awake!” He propped her against the wall, a giant hand on her chest to keep her there. “Dean!”

“Your nose, silly,” she laughed, head lolling from side to side. It felt so nice to be sitting down. Maybe if she laid down it would feel even better.

“No. No, stay up, Y/N, come on.”

“What the fuck!” Dean appeared on the bottom step, eyes growing huge as he saw Y/N half asleep on the floor next to Sam. “What happened!”

Sam struggled to explain. “She touched something in the kitchen. I don’t know!”

“Snow White,” Y/N whispered, fingers curling around Sam’s shirt. “I’m Snow White.” The urge to close her eyes was fierce and they rolled up into her skull.

“Damnit, Y/N!” Sam shook her again and her eyes popped back open. “Stay awake.”

Dean leaned down. “Did she say ‘Snow White’?” he asked, bringing Sam back into the severity of their situation.

Sam gasped. “Apple! She said she found an apple in the kitchen, that’s gotta be it.” He almost stood up but Y/N’s head fell against his shoulder and he lost it. “Hurry, Dean!”

Sam cupped her cheek and held her close, trying to keep her awake while Dean rushed to the kitchen.

“Sam…” Y/N felt strangely great. She knew it was bad, knew that if she went to sleep she’d never wake up, but it felt so good to fall limply against Sam’s strong chest. “I…I’m tired.”

“No, Y/N, stay awake, OK?” He scrunched down to hold her face in his hands, shifting her this way and that to get her to focus.

Dean hollered from the kitchen, his voice echoing outwards as he slammed through the empty room. “I think I found it!”

Sam sighed in relief, pressing his forehead against Y/N’s in a moment of hopefulness. “Great! So burn it!”

Dean’s reply was less hopeful and more cringeworthy. “This...thing’s like solid brass or something. May take awhile.”

Sam turned towards the kitchen, screaming down the hall. “We don't have a while!”

Y/N stirred in his arms, still fighting to keep her eyes open despite the euphoric lure of sleep. “It’s OK, Sam,” she slurred. “Imma sleep now.”

“No, Y/N!” He shook her shoulder. “You cannot fall asleep. Please. Dean, hurry!”

She breathed deeply and let her body sink, shoulders relaxing, lips falling slack. Her lashes fluttered as her eyes fell closed, and Y/N smiled at Sam, the boy she’d loved for so long but only in silence.

“I’m gonna save you, Y/N,” he said sadly, tears filling his kaleidoscope eyes. “I promise.”

Her lips curled into a precious smile as sleep dug it’s final claw into her. She sighed and let go, whispering with her last waking breath. “True... kiss.”

Sam watched her fall, tears waiting to spill as she went limp, eyes finally closed and refusing to open again. Her breath was slow and deep, her skin warm, lips parted and slack. She was gone.

“Y/N, no…” He touched her cheek, fingers pressing into her soft flesh. He shook her gently but there was no response, only movement coming from a few strands of hair that fell forward onto her face. Sam brushed it back carefully and stared down at her beautiful mouth, regretting every word he’d never said, every move he’d never made.

And then it clicked.

“True Love’s Kiss…”

He knew it was a long shot but they’d seen stranger. Taking a deep breath and finding every ounce of courage inside him, Sam closed his eyes and pressed his lips to Y/N’s, forcing all of his feelings into his kiss and hopefully, into her. If his desire for Y/N, his love for her wasn’t enough to break the curse, he didn’t know what he’d do.

Like a fairytale, Y/N stirred beneath him, sucking in a deep breath as Sam broke away.

“Holy shit,” he gasped, watching in shock as she woke up. “Y/N?”

“Hey, Sam,” she said softly, still sloppy with sleepy.

“Oh, thank God!”

His rejoicing was cut short as Y/N reached a hand up around his neck and pulled him down, locking her lips to his. The kiss was deep and perfect, and Sam wrapped his arms tightly around her.

“Hey, guys, I got it,” Dean announced, walking out of the kitchen with a half melted apple paperweight in his hand. He stopped in the archway and looked down the hall at the two love birds locked in a kiss. “Huh,” he laughed to himself, “took you long enough."

2019 Forever Tags:

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[deanwinchestermydaddy]

TO SEE YOU AGAIN (DEAN WINCHESTER STORY) PART. 14

(WARNING: THIS CHAPTER WILL MENTION THE TOPIC OF MISCARRIAGE)

Y/n POV:

I woke up with horrible pain in the head, I open my eyes thinking I was going to see light and myself on the room of the Motel but I look around and notice that I am on a warehouse and tied to a chair.

I hear someone grunt there and I look at my left to see Scott in the same situation as me or maybe a little worse than mine, "Scott are you okay?" I asked obviously having a clear answer for the situation we were in, "yeah, what about you Y/n?" he said as he tried to free himself from the ropes that hold him to the chair, "had worse before. Just making sure, those were the demons that we were looking for right?" I said and he nodded before I could say something else we heard footsteps getting closer, "oh look who woke up, Ken Doll and the Barbie Doll" the girl said as she and 4 other guys came to our view, "what do you want black eyes?" I said as I try to free myself again, "well look who is talking, the toy from the Winchesters, you should shut up bitch! You and your boy toy killed someone that you shouldn't have, so I'm just going to do the same" she said getting closer to Scott, "If you want revenge, let him go he has nothing to do with this" I said and she grabbed his face and turn to look at me, "but he really has to do in all this, you know why?... cause you still care for him even when you don't want to admit it. He has no idea am I right" she said and I just glared at her, but Scott kept looking at me, "Y/n?" he said but I couldn't look at him, "oh she never told you about that little blossom of yours, but too bad she couldn't keep it safe" she said moving to me as he kept looking at me, "you-you-you, we did we had a baby?" he said surprised and shock at the same time, "Scott right now is not the time for this" I said not daring to look at him, "well I think it is, you were never going to tell me we have a kid at all not even let me meet it or see it!" he raised his voice, "look Scott he was born, but I couldn't keep him safe okay! I lost him during a hunt after we broke up!" I said as the tears started to go down my face, " I'm going to make sure that I kill you slowly and painful black-eyed bitch! " I said and one of the guys walk behind me with a knife on my neck, "I don't think that's going to happen, because I am going to kill you first, well after him, but first I think me and my boys should have some fun, shall we?" she said with a wicked smile plastered on her face as the rest of the demons started to punch and kick Scott and me, as she sat down to watch everything.

Dean's POV:

As soon as they disappear me and Sam jumped into Baby while Rodney went into his car, and I drove like crazy to the warehouse that we knew those sons of bitches where. I try to remain calm but I felt that if we didn't get there on time I wasn't going to find her alive at all and that truly scared me. We soon arrived and I stayed on the car staring blankly at the wheel, "son, she's going to be alright" her dad said putting his hand on my shoulder and I looked at him standing on the door of the Impala, "I really hope so" I said and he gave me a sad smile and the three of us grabbed our blades to kill all those demons. Her dad and I were entering by the back while Sam was going to enter by the front.

We entered and soon we saw both of them beaten and tied to a chair, probably unconscious from what it looked like, I rushed to Y/n her beautiful face was full of cuts and blood that was getting dry and Scott looked the same, even when his cuts looked way deeper than hers. I instantly cut the ropes from their hands, "I take care of her" Rodney said as he started to untie her legs and torso, while I did the same to Scott, "Thanks man, I really appreciate what you have done for her and me" he said as he looked at me, "no problem Scott you are important to her, so you are to me" I said with a smile, "Rodney help Scott I will carry Y/n" I said and he nodded as he went to Scott to help him, "sweetheart can you open your eyes for me, please. Just open those beautiful eyes for me baby girl" I said and I saw her eyes slowly open, "Dean you came" she said as she hugged me, "I would not leave my best girl behind sweetheart" I said as I took her on my arms, she rested her head on my shoulder, "Sammy" I said as I saw him and he went to help Y/n's dad with Scott, "Let's go" I said as everybody nodded, "Leaving the party so fast Winchester!" that black-eyed bitch said making all of us turn, "yeah this party is crap!" I said as I reassure my arms around Y/n's body, "well is just getting started" she said and with the snap of her fingers, she threw everybody to the nearest wall.

She just laughs as everyone started to get up and pull their weapon, and Rodney gave a gun to Scott.

Scott's POV:

"you know that won't do anything right," one of the guys said and I looked at him and aim my gun shooting him right on the chest and a yellow light started to come from him, "well I guess it did," I said and soon each of us started to fight and specific demon but the girl disappear, Sam was fighting one that had him on the floor and Dean was helping Rodney that was bigger, I killed mine and saw that Y/n just killed the one that she was fighting with, but I saw a shadow from behind her and I run to her, it was that bitch, "Y/n look behind you!" I said as I run as fast as I could to get to her in time before she can hurt Y/n. Everyone is finishing the others as I got in time and start to fight that bitch. I push Y/n aside and me and that black-eyed started to fight, I was trying to get the knife into her, but she punched me and moved her hand towards Y/n pinning her to the wall and started to choke her. She was a really powerful demon, I have to admit that, "take one more step and that bitch dies!" she said as I saw that Sam, Dean, and Rodney were standing behind me ready to attack, suddenly 3 more demons appear and started to fight with the rest while I dropped my weapon and put my hands up and slowly approach her, "look I have no weapon, you can take me instead of her" I said taking small steps towards her, "but where's the fun in that?" she said as she tightened her grip on Y/n's neck and she looked back at me, but at the same time I punched her, she stops having Y/n on the wall, she falls and soon started to catch her breath.

Me and the girl started to fight, she was good.

Dean's POV:

I saw how that bitch had Y/n on the wall by just lifting her hand, but I couldn't do anything because if we move she was going to kill Y/n and I wanted everything but that at all.

I wanted to go running back to Y/n but first I had to finish these fuckers and then I could go and help her.

Sammy was on the floor and I went to him and shook him and he looked at me, "is Y/n alright?" is the first thing he says and I just padded his back both went to Rodney that cleaned his knife on the demons clothes, he had some cuts just like mine and Sammy.

Suddenly I heard Y/n scream and I look to see her kneeling on Scott and the bitch dead on the floor.

Y/n POV:

I saw how Scott and that bitch were fighting while I was catching my breath, she reach for a knife and try to hurt Scott while I crawled to where I last saw the gun that Scott had to get it, once I had it on my hands I notice that it was empty and I put it in the back of my jeans and look for a knife once I saw one I grabbed and run back to Scott to help him and I saw how that bitch stabbed him it make me broke and I scream, and I got angrier and walked behind her hold her neck to make her look at me while I stabbed her several times and cut her throat.

I fall to my knees as I try to hold Scott he was bleeding a lot, "Scotty please stay, please" I said as tears started to run down my face, "is okay Y/n" he said and I hold him tighter to my chest, "I'm sorry, so sorry Scott I didn't know about the baby until I ended on the hospital and they said that it came before time, they let me see him he was just like his daddy, he was beautiful Scott our baby was beautiful, they did everything to keep him alive, but there was nothing they could do. I wanted to tell you but I thought you wouldn't care and-and I couldn't let you hurt me again" I said as my lip tremble as I remember some parts of my past and all he did was smile and caress my cheek as I just sob and kissed his hand, "It- it wasn't your fault my Y/n, probably it wasn't meant to be, I have realized it" he said and I see that his eyes are closing slowly, "DON'T YOU FUCKING DARE TO CLOSE YOUR EYES ON ME SCOTT, I FUCKING SWEAR!" I scream and shook Scott, and I knew it was the right time and that I had to do it if not it was going to be too late. I cupped his face and kiss him, he kissed me back with emotion like I did putting everything I was feeling towards him at the moment, then I stopped and just hold him close to me as I cry, "Little Bubba we need to take him to the hospital" my dad said and I just stare blankly at my hands that have Scott's blood as my dad and Sam take him to the car.

"C' mon sweetheart we have to get out of here," Dean said as he helped me up, but I didn't say a word and tears just fall, my dad approached me and kissed my forehead before him and Sam drove out towards the hospital to save Scott.

"we will meet them at the hospital sweetheart let's go," Dean said but I just froze on my spot and didn't look at him. When he tried to reach for me I pushed him away as I started to cry harder but silently, he tries again and I just did the same push him away, "sweetheart don't do that" he said and I look up and saw tears in his eyes and my lip started to tremble more as he tries again getting the same result, "don't you do that" he said taking a step forward and I took one back, then he just pulls me into his arms and I fight to get away from him but he just makes it tighter and I started to break down on his arms and cry as my world is crashing down, "he will be okay, I swear we all are going to be okay" he said kissing my forehead and just holding me close to his chest that was all I needed at that time.

[ragingpancake]

McShep prompt: no regrets?

Thank you so much for the prompt! @gingerpolyglot I really appreciate you sending this to me!

The pain in his shoulder radiates outward until his whole arm feels like it’s on fire. They need to operate, to clean up the mess of splintered bone, fragments of bullet, but he refuses to let them put him under, not yet. Not when Ronon, Teyla and Rodney have yet to come back through the Gate. It’s only because he’d lost consciousness at some point or another that he’s here, pacing the gate room despite the way each painful step threatens to bring to him to tears. No one is talking, refusing to give up whichever Marine it had actually been who had dragged him through the Gate, leaving the rest of John’s people on the other side. Likely because they knew the soldier wouldn’t escape unscathed for ignoring the single, most important rule: we don’t leave people behind. It was meant to be a routine mission. A quick return to M5-X385 to check in on the Zamains and make sure they were settling in okay to their new settlement. It’d been fine at first, a cake walk really, until some faction of the old Zamani militia, pissed at being removed from their previous plant (despite the fact that it was, you know, showing signs of the beginning of an actual ice age), showed up. Their weapons were primitive, but effective. A bullet had caught him in the shoulder and while bullets had never taken John down before, the damn rock that conked him on the head from the damn trebuchet definitely had. He never would have left them. Never.

Ronon and Teyla, they could take care of themselves, John knew that. But Rodney… Rodney, who was never meant to be a soldier, Rodney who, most days couldn’t even get a handle on his own P-90… Rodney, who John had sworn to protect at all costs and not because he was honor bound to do so, but because… well, because it was Rodney, was still out there. He trusted Teyla and Ronon with his own life, trusted them with every single person on this base, but… But. Rodney. “Dial the gate, Chuck,” he snarls up to the control room, yanking the sling that Keller had fitted him with temporarily from around his neck and he has to bite back a strangled cry at the way it jostles his arm. He somehow manages to keep up that stoic façade, despite the pain, despite the worry gnawing away at his stomach. “Disregard that command, Chuck,” another voice rings out and John turns, glaring daggers at Colonel Carter. “I said dial the gate!” Sam takes the steps down into the Gate room two at a time, closing the distance between them, her own jaw set. “I let you convince me to allow you to remain out here until they get back, John, but I’m not letting you do this. You’re in no condition—” “They’re my people!” He bellows, “and if you think for one second that I’m going to—” The gate sounds, loud and echoing in the Gate Room and Carter steps back, pulling John with her. “I’m reading Teyla’s IDC!” Chuck calls down and John whirls on him angrily. “Lower the damn shield!” The moment it’s down, the trio comes running through the event horizon, followed closely by the marines Carter had sent in as reinforcements. Once everyone is through, the shield reactivates a split second before the gate dies and John realizes he’s been holding his breath. It comes out in a whoosh as he pushes through the small crowd, good arm gripping Rodney’s shoulder and it hits him in this moment that he could have lost Rodney and he thinks his knees are maybe about to give out when the scientist turns to him, blue eyes wide as he pulls John in for a bone crushing hug. “Oh thank God! I thought you died!” And John can’t stifle the cry that tears from his mouth this time as his shoulder explodes with pain. When he goes to his knees, Rodney follows him, careful to ease him down as Keller weaves her way through the group, medical team right behind her with a gurney meant for John. “I—I shouldn’t have left you,” John rasps as hands grab at him, but he pushes them away, eyes never leaving Rodney’s. “You went down so fast and, and, and there was blood and—” It’s Rodney’s hand this time on either side of John’s face. “I thought you died,” he says again and it’s too much in this moment, with the way Rodney’s looking at him and John can’t breathe and--. “Colonel,” Keller says urgently. “This can’t wait any longer. We need to get that shoulder--.” He doesn’t hear anything else though because he leans forward, shoulder be damned, and crushes his lips against Rodney’s. He savors it for about a half a second before he feels a prick in his arm and everything starts to go sideways. “Sheppard—” Rodney says as Keller’s team manhandles him onto the gurney and John can only watch through hazy vision as Teyla and Ronon help Rodney to his feet, Ronon’s hand clamped firmly on Rodney’s shoulder as if to keep him from chasing after him. I’m gonna beat the shit out of him later for that, John thinks, but it’s the last thought he has before darkness claims him. --- He wakes up in the infirmary and unsurprisingly, he’s not alone. Ronon’s sitting in the chair next to his bed, legs propped up on the edge while Teyla is at his feet, hands rubbing his ankle through the blanket. Rodney’s up somewhere near his head and John can feel the weight of his hand on his good shoulder. “’Thought you were gonna sleep forever,” Ronon says, dropping his feet and letting his chair tip back on to all four legs. “You should not have delayed your surgery, John,” Teyla admonishes gently and he wishes that they would at least wait until he’s fully awake before the

lectures start. “Yeah, but if he hadn’t, the whole Gate Room wouldn’t have gotten that show.” John blinks at Ronon maybe a little dumbly as Rodney’s cheeks pinken slightly. “Wha’—” John clears his throat. “What show?” “Oh, you know, the one where you tried to make out with McKay in front of everyone.” “Ronon,” Teyla chastises, but he grins at John. “Clearly, it was some sort of mixed reaction to the adrenaline decrease and, and, and probably blood loss,” Rodney explains and John can read it all over his face, even slightly high, that he thinks there has to be some reasonable explanation other than the fact that John just wanted to kiss him. Plain and simple. That he’s wanted to for the longest damn time, maybe since the first time Rodney showed him the Puddle Jumpers. The problem was never Rodney, it was always John, too emotionally stunted and stupid to act on what he wanted until he thought he might never get it again. “We don’t need to keep harping on it and embarrassing the Colonel,” Rodney huffs but he slouches down in his chair a little miserably. “No regrets, McKay,” John says, and he would shrug like it was no big deal if he thought he could move his shoulder without puking all over his team. But it has its desired effect because Rodney sits up so quickly that he very nearly drops his tablet. “I—what?” “Well,” John amends, feeling his eyelids growing heavier by the moment, “maybe just one.” His head lulls to the side and he gives Rodney a lopsided smile. “Probably shoulda done that sooner.” And Ronon laughs out loud, clapping his hands together like this is the best thing he’s ever heard. “Told you!” He crows. “I told you! You owe me a beer!” Teyla rolls her eyes but she does so with a smile as she rises, swatting Ronon’s legs. “We should leave you to rest, John. I am very glad that you are alright.” Ronon is still grinning broadly, even as Teyla ushers him away, but not before he claps Rodney on his shoulder roughly. “Did you… do you mean that?” Rodney asks, oddly quiet and John doesn’t know when his eyes closed, but he has to open them again to squint up at Rodney. “S’it alright with you if I do?” “Oh, yes. Of course, I just, uh. It’s just that… which is to say um, you’re youand I’m me and I just uhh… can we perhaps try again? Sometime soon? For scientific reasons, of course.” “Rodney,” John murmurs. “Hmm?” “Shut up.” “Right. Yes. Shutting up now.” It lasts for all of two seconds. “Really though? Are you sure? You literally just outed yourself in front of the entire expedition and, and, and—” “I know,” John says and he’s so close to falling back asleep. “Still. No regrets.” “Huh,” is the last thing John hears before the darkness claims him once more.

[brightsun-and-darkmidnight]

Side Story... Tony Don’t Dance

Side Story….. Tony Don’t Dance 

-Yes.. I wrote for Tony Stark

THIS would not leave my mind! All because of these song muses:

I Don't Dance by Lee Brice

&

Eyes on You by Chase Rice

I know this is completely different, but please let me know what you think of how I wrote Tony Stark. :) I also know there are some parts I did not write that I was considering doing but I have let this little fic sit in the doc for probably a month and no other ideas came to mind… So here you go!!!!!~~~~

~ ~ ENJOY ~ ~

Tony had just ordered a delicious… but entirely too greasy burger. The world seemed to melt around him as he tried to eat the sandwich, his whole focus on devouring it.

An annoyed tone caught Tony's ear. It was gentle yet furious. "Syretia, come on. You've been designing this stuff for years! Get a loan, a patent. Do something."

An equally frustrated voice turned to disappointment. Probably Syretia, Tony assumed. "I don't know about all of that besides this stuff has been made already…"

The first voice spoke again but Tony had to hurry to take a bite of the burger falling apart. 

"Pft. Look at this."

Syretia spoke urgently. "Hey! Gwen, please give it back."

Papers were flipped through in a rush. "Your first sketch in THIS sketchbook is BEFORE Tony Stark made his suits."

Tony guessed the owner of the voice was Gwen. With a look over his shoulder, Tony confirmed it was only two women. He was able to catch a hand sketched page of designs that looked worn from time… but sure enough were designs of suits similar to his Iron Man design.

Tony finished the burger, but there was not enough napkins in the world to clean himself up. 

Syretia spoke again, "No one would take me seriously. I'd need serious money for the lawsuits on my head after I even attempted to do something. Besides these are all just silly kid dreams."

Tony peeked over his shoulder again. He saw more designs as Gwen flipped through.

She pointed at the page. "Nanotechnology. I doubt Tony thought of this."

Tony squinted at the page, seeing multiple figures but being covered gradually. It was certainly impressive.

Syretia made a grab at the sketchbook but missed. "No matter, I'll never get what I need. And it's still a suit made of metal… there is probably some way for me to get in trouble. Tony or whoever's else is working on suits probably have damn good lawyers. I'd be thrown in jail to serve off the money on my head and then still serving time many lifetimes after."

Tony made an attempt at wiping his face again before turning around fully. Nanotechnology was an interesting idea… "I've, actually, never thought of nanotechnology. Do you want to tell me your ideas?"

Both women looked to Tony and he hoped he was right in guessing the women to their voices. The dark haired one looked at him with dark blue eyes, Syretia. It would certainly make conversation more interesting because she was… well,  Tony momentarily lost his breath. Maybe it would make it harder…?

Both women looked at him odd. But the dark haired woman spoke, gesturing to Tony, her voice matching what he assumed was Syretia. "You um.. have.. grease all over you."

Tony tried to wipe himself and smiled, "tried that new burger stand over there. Definitely the messiest burger I've ever ate. So about your idea."

Gwen gave him some napkins from her pile. "so yeah. My friend here has some amazing designs, Syretia. She wont be discussing anything with you without a lawyer present."

"Gwen," Syretia mumbled. She smiled and grabbed the book from the intelligent friend. "Its fine. If my idea gets used, I'd be kinda happy."

Tony moved his hands away from the book being handed to him. "I don't like being handed things. But we could talk about your ideas."

Syretia smiled, "sure."

---

[Need to talk about the designs?]

---

Tony was at a party, Ofcourse he threw it, but this one was special. 

It was Syretia's birthday.

He stayed by her as much as he could but others demanded her attention. It didn't stop him from staring at her though. Tony sipped his scotch and then looked at Rhodey who was staring at him with an unbelievable look.

"What?" Tony asked, setting down the glass.

Rodny "Man. When are you going to ask her out?"

Tony scrunched his eyebrows before diverting his attention to the other side of the room. He picked the glass up again. Literally looking away from the subject. "There's nothing to ask." 

Tony finished the drink and sighed once his eyes met Syretia's. She smiled before turning back to the guest.

Rhodey raised his eyebrows and then leaned forward. "Ask her."

"Nothing to ask."

Rhodey immediately answered in the middle of Tony's answer. "-when was your last date?"

"-When was your last anything?" Tony gives him a weird look, to which Rhodey responded with a knowing look of his own. When it was obvious he wouldn't rise to the bait, Tony continued. "What's that got to do with anything, anyway?'"

"You are Tony Stark, a well known playboy."

"Among many other overly attractive qualities."

"You haven't been seen with anyone. You haven't so much as flirted-not even looked at another woman for more than what's necessary. Except for her." Rhodey pointed at Syretia who was now talking to the bar tender.

Tony rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, leaning back. "What's the big deal."

Rhodey shrugged, "If you're not interested then maybe I'll go ask her. She is really attractive."

Tony narrowed his eyes.

Rhodey smirked. "Well. Here comes my chance…" He gave her his charming smile. "Hello Syretia. You look absolutely stunning in that red dress."

She smiled, "thank you Rhodey. You look dashing tonight."

Rhodey smiled with a brief look at Tony, which royally pissed him off. 

"Would you like to dance?"

Syretia was interrupted by a few people asking to talk about her idea. 

She gestured to Tony, "he is the real person behind this idea. A lot of thought has been put into my original idea and it's being worked out."

"You had the original idea, take the credit." Rhodey smiled and looked ready to say something. Tony stood, "let's go talk, over there." He placed a hand on Syretia's back to gently guide everyone to a different area.

The talk was not important to Tony at the moment. Figuring out how to stop Rhodey from talking to Syretia again was top priority.

A slow song started playing and Rhodey moved his hands and mouthed at Tony to take the chance. Tony ignored him, but Rodney stood and began walking towards them. 

Syretia smiled at Tony, "I love this song. Where is Rhodey, he asked to dance."

Tony stopped her from turning completely around. She looked at his hand on her shoulder but smiled when Tony said, "dance with me."

Syretia's smile got a little bigger, her eye color lightened. "I think Rhodey asked first." Her smile turned into a smirk, she was teasing.

Tony looked for Rhodey, he was at the bar. "It would seem he is not here right now."

She playfully rolled her eyes. "Fine. I guess I will."

Tony rested his hand on his chest with a playful shock. "Am I not a suitable dance partner."

Syretia gestured to the dance floor. "Show me what you got."

Tony lead her to the dancefloor. Taking one hand in his and then setting the other on her hip. She stared up at him with a shy smile and Tony grinned.

"Am I doing alright? Or am I a terrible dancer?"

Syretia nodded, "You are more than suitable."

Tony felt his heart thumping a little louder with how close she was. They have been shoulder to shoulder working on designs but this was not work. Tony didn't know what was going on with him. Of course he knew -but he wasn't sure if he wanted to admit it. 

Maybe if he just got it over with would be better. The worst that happened was he was back to the Tony Stark everyone knew.

Syretia eyed Tony suspiciously.

Tony gave her a silly face. "What?"

"You looked deep in thought."

Tony spun her out and pulled her in. "Thinking of that."

Tony didn't want to let her go. He wanted her close.

Syretia giggled. "It was a pretty serious face for that."

"I was debating on it because I had to consider you falling."

She grinned softly. "What? Like falling for you?"

Tony looked at her, debating on if this was his chance. "Let's not work tomorrow. I'll take you on a date."

Syretia smiled, her hand resting on his heart. "I would love that."

---

[Date?]

---

Syretia was getting ready to take her birth control.

Tony looked at the little pill she was about to take. His mind wondering about the next phase of his life and what it might look like.

No matter what route his mind took, be it growing old with fancy cars and high class dinners or even with children with toys littering his home… he did not see any other options of who he wanted to be old with.

It was alway Syretia with him.

Syretia looked at him with a smile before taking the pill. "What are you thinking?"

Tony gestured to the pill containers. "What if you didn't need to take those anymore?"

Syretia rose an eyebrow with quizzical eyes. "Like the shot or something? This is the best way for me-"

Tony looked into her eyes. "I'm talking about kids."

"Oh."

"I was just putting it on the table for an option."

Syretia looked conflicted. "I've never thought of kids."

Tony held her hands. "If you don't or decide you do. I'm here. I'm in this, with you. You are my endgame. I can't think of sharing the rest of my life with anyone else. Besides, I have a bet that you are going to look fantastic as an old and wrinkly woman."

Syretia laughed and pulled him close. "You are such the smooth talker."

Tony wrapped his arms around her, tucking his head in her neck. "Is that sarcasm? I thought my declaration was impressive." He peppered kisses on her neck, making her giggle.

Syretia giggled and pushed on his face. "I don't want to think about wrinkles."

Her fingers ran through his hair, relaxing him momentarily.

She grinned, "grey looks good on you."

Tony faked a gasp. "Grey?! Its silver!"

Syretia smirked, "sure old man."

Tony smiled at her. "Just something to get used to. You know, growing old with me."

Syretia giggled. "You really want me, even with wrinkles and fat from having children?"

"All of it. So long as it's with you." Tony pecked her lips.

Syretia rolled her eyes. "I'm not going to get fat."

Tony grinned. "Even better."

Syretia tapped his chest, "I expected that answer."

"Let's go see if I can persuade you creating kids is pleasurable."

"Now THAT I know is more than satisfactory."

[supernaturalfreewill]

Words: 5,087 (whoa...) Sam x Reader Warnings: language, mild violence, some creepy imagery Summary: Sam and Dean meet with Crowley to discuss Rowena and your condition, when a distressing situation only becomes worse. A/N: It's happening! PART 15, BITCHES! Hope you enjoy! This is part of a series! Read the other parts here! 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14

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”No, no, no! You idiot! What do I even keep you around for? Those cells were due for their de-fleshing yesterday. Now we’re going to have to—“

Bzzzz. Bzzzz. Bzzz.

Crowley pulled his phone from the pocket of his suit coat, shifting a little in his throne chair. The room fell silent as he glanced down at the incoming call.

”Bollocks… Alright! Everyone out!” A few demons shuffled towards the door. “GET OUT!” Crowley roared. “I shouldn’t have to bloody say it more than once!” The heavy iron door swung closed in finality and Crowley answered the call.

”Can it, douchebag,” came Dean’s unmistakable voice from the other end. “We have precisely zero patience for your bullshit right now.”

”We? So Big & Tall is listening in too, is he? You two probably still use the buddy system for bathroom breaks, don’t you?”

”Crowley! Your royal bitch of a mother was just here,” Dean roared.

Silence stretched on the other end as Crowley decided how best to play his quickly diminishing hand. “And? Why should I care?”

”You should care because she told us she escaped from you, that she’s going to be running Hell soon, and that you have Y/N. Oh, and she tried to kill us.” The voice on the other end was Sam’s this time.

”Aloha, Moose. You can speak after all,” Crowley replied. Sam rolled his eyes and tightened his fists. “Well, I hate to burst your uninformed bubbles, but that witch certainly has and never will have anything to do with running Hell. I can agree with her on the point of Winchester extermination, though clearly she is as inept in that area as she is in many others.” There was clear tension in Crowley’s voice. He sighed and conjured himself a scotch. “As for Y/N… I might know something about that.”

”Yeah? And what do you know?” Dean growled. “You either tell us where you are right now and we come break in the door, or we conjure you here and hold you in a particular room I believe you are already quite familiar with. I think we left the chains set up, didn’t we, Sammy?”

”Yeah, it’s all ready to go,” Sam replied.

”There will be no need for that. You’re welcome to pop by. I’ll even leave the front door open, but I’m afraid you’ll be rather disappointed by the state Y/N is in.” Crowley hung up and finished off the remaining scotch in his glass. “Oi! Rodney!” he bellowed. A demon rushed in, clutching a notebook in trembling hands.

”Yes, sir.”

”Send the Winchesters our location and inform security that they are to be given access without any resistance.”

”You—you want me to tell the Winchesters where we are?”

”DID I BLOODY STUTTER?!” Crowley’s face boiled red. If there was anything he hated more than being helpful to the Winchesters, it was his manipulative shrew of a mother. And perhaps they would be able to discover what was wrong with you and fix it—then poof, his prophet would be all shiny and new again and he’d conveniently have Sam and Dean in his own house where he could easily order their terminations. He’d just have to cooperate with them in the short-term to get his way for the long-term. Sometimes, no matter how bad the taste it left in your mouth, you had to swallow the bitter pill…

_ _ _ _ _ _

”Well, that’s not extremely concerning… Crowley is just going to tell us where he is and let us walk in?” Dean said, giving Sam a nervous glance. Sam was staring down at the clenched knuckles of his right hand. “Sam?”

Sam’s eyes shot up. ”Hmm?”

”You okay?” Dean asked, already knowing the answer.

Sam nodded, a little wide-eyed. “Yeah. I mean… no, but—“

”I know,” Dean said. “Look, whatever this is… we’ll deal with it. Okay? Just like we always have.”

Sam nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I know,” he replied, and even as he said it, Sam was having flashbacks to a million messes they had been in before—Purgatory, Hell, fallen angels, Metatron, Dick and the leviathan, missing prophets, the apocalypse—and thinking that almost none of them had made him feel this helpless or left such a gaping hole in his chest or frozen pit in his stomach.

_ _ _ _ _ _

”So, Crowley’s current hideout on earth is an abandoned baseball stadium? Seriously?” Sam touched the knife at his side absently as they pulled up to the dilapidated building.

”That’s what his little minion said,” Dean replied, parking the Impala on the edge of the gravel lot. The asphalt was crumbling and Mother Nature was starting to reclaim the land. Weeds were towering through some of the cracks in the pavement and shaggy grass grew in swatches where all that remained of the blacktop was dust and loose rock. “I mean I guess I can kind of understand it. There’s probably a bunch of underground tunnels—high fences, out in the middle of nowhere...”

Sam and Dean climbed out of the car and looked up at the stadium. “This is definitely a trap,” Sam said.

”Yep,” agreed Dean.

”I don’t think I’ve ever cared less about something being a trap,” Sam said.

Dean nodded. “Not like we have much choice. I have a feeling if we want to take down Rowena we have to play ball with the son of a bitch first...”

”Talking about me,” came Crowley’s voice from behind them suddenly. There he was in his usual jacket, tie, and dress shoes. He sipped from his glass of scotch. “Well don’t linger on the threshold. You’re the bloody Winchesters. You’ve probably got twelve other beings taking aim at targets on the back of your broad, obstructive shoulders at this very moment. Now, get in.” Crowley was gone the next moment.

With one final exchanged glance, Sam and Dean crossed the lot and stepped inside the dilapidated building and out of the sun. The metal door banged behind them with finality. It took a moment for their eyes to adjust from the bright sunlight outside, but the Winchesters found themselves at the top of a long flight of stairs descending downwards into near complete darkness. They started down cautiously.

”This feels so wrong,” Dean said, his hand resting on the handle of his knife. “Walking brazenly into a place full of demons and not going on the offensive. My skin is crawling more and more with each step.”

Sam nodded but said nothing. His face was dark. They reached the bottom of the stairs and looked around for some sign of where they were to go next. A demon with a leather portfolio approached them. “This way,” he said. “The King is waiting.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Well, we wouldn’t want to make ‘the king’ wait, would we?” But the brothers followed and were led into what was obviously Crowley’s throne room. He was near the front, pouring himself another scotch from a crystal decanter.

”Welcome to headquarters,” he said. “I have to say that this is one of my favorite earthly hideouts. It had to be further expanded of course before it was workable but so far it’s done the job quite nicely.”

Sam’s jaw clenched more tightly as they neared Crowley.

”We didn’t come here to chat real estate, jackass,” Dean snarled. “Now where’s—“ but before Dean could even finish his question Sam had wound up and punched Crowley across the face as hard as he could, crumpling him to the floor like a wet towel. In an instant there were six demons on Sam, restraining him.

“You son of a bitch! I’m going to kill you!” Sam roared, struggling against the many hands on him. “I’ll kill you!” Dean looked on in surprise.

Crowley picked himself up off the floor and righted his suit. He cracked his neck one way and then the other, and did the same with his jaw. He raised a hand to the demons holding Sam and they released him. Sam stood there panting with anger as Crowley removed the pocket square from his suit pocket and wiped away the trickle of blood coming from his lip.

”I’ll allow you that one, Moose. But only one,” he growled. “Don’t forget that I still have a hold of dear Y/N. And if you want her to wake up, you’re going to need me to help you get rid of the witch.”

Sam’s breathing staggered. He didn’t even notice the rivulets of blood running down the back of his hand from his split knuckles. “What do you mean ‘wake up’?”

”And now we come to the point,” Crowley said, sipping from his glass. He looked at the two brothers for a long moment, considering them carefully. “Let me be clear. You two need me to take on my mother. So if you have any thoughts of killing me just after I bring you to her you can abandon them right now. Not to mention that you’re in a building with literally hundreds of demons who would be more than happy to fillet you alive.”

”We don’t need anything from you,” Dean said. “This isn’t our first rodeo. We’ve cleaned up plenty of messes without cooperating with douche bags like you.”

”If you don’t need me, then why isn’t my mother already dead? According to you, that last encounter was almost the final page in the Book of Winchester. I assume your winged girlfriend Castiel was able to save the day just in time.”

Dean and Sam only scowled back at him.

”That’s what I thought,” Crowley said with satisfaction. “Follow me.”

Sam absently cupped his injured hand with the other as he and Dean trailed after Crowley through winding hallways lined with heavy metal doors. Faint screams echoed up from some corridors and Sam and Dean exchanged more than one uneasy look.

”Nice hit, Sam. But I thought I was supposed to be the impulsive one,” Dean muttered to his brother. Sam only gave him a sharp look in return and trailed stoically after Crowley, his throat tightening with each step, feeling like he couldn’t draw breath.

”Here,” Crowley said suddenly, stopping in front of a particularly fortified door, winged by a demon on each side.

Sam eyed the door uneasily, his heartbeat quickening. Dean felt the knot in his stomach tighten as he worried about what they would see on the other side... Crowley gestured to dismiss the two demons and took hold of the handle. He turned to face the Winchesters before he pushed it open.

”Just remember that I’m doing you a favor,” he said. The muscles in Dean’s jaw twitched and Sam’s eyes narrowed in dislike and distrust as he looked at the King of Hell. Finally, Crowley pushed open the door and the Winchesters crossed the threshold.

It was a surprisingly vast room they entered. The ceiling was so high it receded into the darkness and gave the brothers the feeling that they were only enclosed on all sides, and not from above. There was little light and it was cold and damp. Sam could see vapors of his breath in the air, heavy with moisture. The soft plink of dripping water in some unknown puddle was a lonely sound. Already Sam’s anger grew as he thought of you trapped here; cold, fearful, alone, possibly injured. As Sam’s eyes adjusted to the gloom, he perceived something crumpled at the far end of the space and his heart stopped, completely stalled out with fear upon what he was seeing. “Y/N? Y/N!”

Dean tried to grab his brother, to hold him back in case—in case what? In case it was their worst fear? “Sam,” he roared, trying to calm him. But Sam tore from his grasp and hurtled through the dark space as fast as he could. Dean wasn’t far behind. Crowley simply let the heavy door slam menacingly behind him. As the Winchesters approached they could clearly see your figure, perfectly still, strewn on the ground on your side. Papers littered the floor near you and Dean puzzled at a single red rose that lay near one of your hands. He could see that your clothes were damp from the wet stone floor, the cotton of your jeans and shirt wicking up the chilled moisture. There were heavy chains connected to shackles on your wrists and Dean felt another swell of fury, but it was soon mixed with crushing dread as you showed no response to Sam’s calls.

Sam fell to his knees beside you, nearly paralyzed with terror that he would reach out and touch your skin and be met only with frost. “Y/N?” he choked out again, his hands hovering over you, shaky, not yet daring to make contact. Dean stood rigidly next to his brother, his stomach twisting horribly at the sight of you unmoving on the ground.

”Son of a bitch,” Dean muttered. He couldn’t determine whether you were breathing or not due to the crumpled position you were in.

Sam squeezed his eyes shut and pressed a hand against your outstretched arm. A split second of relief crashed over him; there was some semblance of life in you. But his relief was short-lived when he brushed a hand against your cheek and called to you again, met with only trembling silence. “Y/N!” he called more urgently, desperate to rouse you. Dean knelt down beside Sam, studying your face with a heavily darkened brow. He too reached a hand out to tentatively touch your shoulder, looking over at Sam, who refused to tear his eyes from you.

Crowley’s footsteps resounded more closely. “I’ll save you the trouble, Moose. She won’t wake,” he said, casually picking a bit of lint from the shoulder of his suit jacket. Dean stood and turned to face him, anger swelling in his chest.

Sam was brushing strands of hair away from your face tenderly, still hoping that his hands floating over your skin would revive you, that you would open your eyes and look at him with that spark he had become accustomed to. It felt like a lifetime since he had seen your eyes, since he had held you, kissed you.

”What the hell is this? What did you do to her?” Dean demanded.

”Me?” Crowley croaked. “What good is an unresponsive, comatose prophet to me? How exactly could that factor into my plan for dominion over all?”

”Then what is this?!” Dean yelled.

”You’ll have to ask my dear mother that question,” Crowley retorted, his lip curling at the mention of the witch.

”None of this would have happened if you hadn’t kidnapped her and brought that BITCH into your little plan!” Dean roared at him. “I should kill you right now!” His hand flew to the handle of his knife and he grabbed Crowley firmly by the collar.

”Uh, uh, uh, squirrel! Remember where you are,” Crowley said. He snapped his fingers and reappeared behind Dean, just next to Sam, leaving Dean clutching only air in his fist. Another snap of his fingers and around ten demons poured in through the door they had just entered to stare at the older Winchester threateningly.

Sam seemed to be largely oblivious to what was happening behind him. He finally turned his attention from your silent and still form and noticed the rose lying near your hand and the scattered papers.

Overcoming the waves of paralysis he was fighting he picked up the nearest piece of discarded paper. He only needed to read the first line before understanding dawned on him. ”The prick to her finger wounded her, and she fell down lifeless on the ground, into an unending sleep.”

”Dean,” Sam said softly, looking up at his brother with desperation in his eyes. “It’s the Grimm brothers.” He handed the paper to Dean while Crowley looked on with an expression of interest.

”Jesus,” Dean muttered, clutching a hand to the back of his head, at a loss.

”I’ll say one thing for mother…” Crowley began, “she certainly knows how to stay on theme.”

Dean scowled at the King of Hell. “Wait a second,” he said. “If this is the story of Sleeping Beauty or whatever, I thought she pricked her finger on a spinning wheel.”

”Right. That wouldn’t have been suspicious at all, if the witch just conjured up a spinning wheel. I’m sure dear Y/N would have gone right over to it, no questions asked,” Crowley said.

Sam was looking unwavering at your still form. “It would have been too obvious. There’s no way Y/N would have fallen for it.”

Dean nodded in understanding. “So, she substituted the rose.”

Sam nodded. ”Roses are a common theme in the Grimm stories. It was probably still a powerful spell, even if it didn’t quite match the original text,” Sam said sadly. “And where the hell were you when all this was happening?” he asked angrily, standing and facing Crowley.

”Where were you? Weren’t you two supposed to be protecting the prophet? Funny how everyone close to you two ends up dead or worse, despite the chiseled jaws and broad shoulders,” Crowley retorted with venom.

Dean hated how his stomach twisted again at Crowley’s words and he tried to push down the thought that he was right.

“Of course as soon as I knew something was amiss I tried to deal with it but—the woman is a menace,” Crowley finished.

“And you just left Y/N here?? You chained her up like an animal and then you just leave her lying here!” Sam yelled, reviving out of his stunned and devastated stupor, his eyes narrowed and fiery with anger. “You just left her here lying on a wet, cold floor?”

Crowley shrugged carelessly. “What was I suppose to do? Put her up in a five star hotel? What difference does it make whether she’s unconscious here or unconscious on a quilted mattress with a feather pillow?”

”You son of a bitch—“ Sam began to charge towards the demon but Dean intercepted him.

”Hey! Hey! Whoa—whoa! Alright! Slow down, Sammy!” He stopped him with an arm thrust out into his chest. Sam shook him off angrily and continued to scowl at Crowley, who only smirked back at the reaction he had elicited from the younger Winchester.

“I seem to have a touched a nerve,” Crowley said.

”Shut up, Crowley!” Dean snapped. “Now… we need to—to find some way to wake her up! Can’t you do anything useful?” he threw at the demon.

”Believe me, I’ve tried. You think I wanted to invite you and Lurch into my fortress of solitude?” Crowley said. “The spell is foolproof. It’s a clever little plan, isn’t it? As long as Y/N is still alive, she’s the prophet, so I can’t go and collect a new one. But with her off in la-la land, I can’t glean anything helpful from her, now can I? That vindictive tart seems to be smarter than I give her credit for.”

Sam suddenly looked at Crowley suspiciously. “…You tried to kill her,” he said suddenly.

Dean’s head snapped over so he could look at Crowley. “What?”

Sam drew himself up to his full height. “What he just said—‘as long as Y/N is alive.’ You tried to kill her. You were hoping that you could just get rid of her, and go find the new prophet. You motherf—” Sam cocked his fist back and punched Crowley across the face, for the second time, lunging at him again when he was on the ground.

The demons that had been near the door swarmed the Winchesters, pulling Sam from where he was standing over Crowley, looking like he was ready to strangle him, and holding onto Dean who tried to rush toward the King of Hell too.

”Get off of me!” Sam roared, attempting to shake Crowley’s underlings. “You son of a bitch! You’re dead! DEAD!”

Crowley drew himself up, his face red. “I said I would give you ONE, Moose!” He gestured to one of the demons holding onto Sam, who thrust a knee into Sam’s torso, doubling him over, and then slammed a fist across his jaw.

”Hey! Knock it off!” Dean roared, straining against the cloud of demons around him.

Sam remained doubled over, trying to draw breath with his paralyzed diaphragm, and a trickle of blood dripped to the floor from his split lip. He spat the blood from his mouth carelessly and resumed his fight to free himself.

“I’m a business man and the King of Hell! What did you expect?” Crowley growled. He straightened his tie. Sam was still struggling to get to him; not even knowing what he intended to do.

”Get off!” Dean roared at the demons holding him. “I knew this cooperative bullshit was too good to be true,” he barked, glaring at Crowley with such intensity that the demon almost staggered back.

“I don’t know what you’re so upset about! It didn’t work…” Crowley yelled back. “Now if you settle down perhaps we can come up with some way to restore said prophet!”

Sam’s fists were still clenched and he was heaving in deep breaths, anger boiling in his chest, but he suddenly stopped his struggling. “This isn’t over, Crowley,” he said. His words cut like cold steel. “I promise you—this isn’t over.”

Crowley suppressed a pang of unease. “I look forward to it,” he snapped back. “Let them go,” he ordered, and the swarm of demons released the brothers. Crowley ordered them from the room. “Now, can we get back to business? I’ve tried everything in the book and she’s not waking up.”

A thought suddenly struck Sam. “The book… The book! Where is the book, Crowley?” Sam demanded.

Crowley narrowed his eyes as he looked at Sam. “I don’t have it. You think the shrew was going to leave that lying around? The book is the whole reason this works. The book is everything!”

”Because it’s the original, right?” Dean said. “It’s the original copy, penned by the Grimm Brothers.”

“Very good, Squirrel. It’s the reason we were able to actually manifest physical components of the stories. Something about that book made the curse more powerful.”

Sam set his jaw. “So, we find the book and destroy it.” He looked at Dean. “We destroy the book and we break the curse. Y/N wakes up.”

Crowley let out a low laugh. “Yes, that should be easy considering my—“ Crowley broke off suddenly and froze.

Dean glanced around. “What?”

Sam thought he felt the ground shuddering slightly, like an aftershock from a distant earthquake.

In another moment, Dean perceived a rumbling sound and felt the stone beneath their feet quivering. “Crowley—you mind telling me what the hell that is?” he demanded.

”I was just about to ask you the same thing,” the demon replied.

Sam was glancing back at you and something in his heart told him that something was very wrong. The rumbling grew louder and louder until the Winchesters would have to yell to be heard over the noise. The stone beneath their feet began to shake more violently until it was tilting and cracking, threatening to throw them all to ground. “Dean!” Sam screamed over the noise. “We have to get Y/N out of here!”

Dean nodded to show he had heard and tried to keep his balance on the floor which was now tilting and crumbling into big slabs beneath their feet. A violent crack broke a chunk of earth free and threw Dean to the ground.

Sam’s heart dropped to his stomach. He looked back at you lying still as the earth moved around you and tried to run toward you, dodging cracks that were opening up everywhere he stepped.

Suddenly, something erupted out of the earth blocking his path as he struggled toward you. It shot upward and Sam fell backward to avoid being hit, hitting the ground hard flat on his back, the air knocked from his lungs. In another moment, identical somethings were bursting out of all the cracks in the room, soaring upwards into the darkness and the slabs of stone continued to shift and crumble violently.

”SAM!” Dean roared as he tried to climb upright and keep his footing. “We’ve got to get out of here!”

Sam pulled himself up and tried to charge toward you again but every direction he went was spawning obstructions. Soon he could no longer see you through the darkness that was thick with barriers.

Crowley took one look at the destruction and crumbling ground and disappeared with a string of furious expletives.

”SAM!” Dean yelled again, barely avoiding another opening in the earth. He stared up at what was erupting all over the room, rushing upward, and realized they were vines covered in vicious-looking thorns. He made a run for it toward his brother and grabbed hold of his arm. “We have to go!”

“I’m not leaving, Y/N!” He pulled himself from Dean and made another run in the direction you had disappeared, but soon he found that the thorns were grappling at him, multiplying by the second. He felt his arm tear as he pulled away from one vine and tried to push through another.

“Sam! You’re going to kill yourself! We HAVE TO GO! NOW!” Dean urged, catching up to his brother again.

Sam only shook his head and kept pressing forward, his clothes tearing and thorns biting into his skin, drawing blood wherever they touched him. “Not without Y/N!”

Dean stumbled as the slab of stone they were on shifted again. “SAM!” He grabbed his brother violently by the shoulders and forced him to look at him. “We HAVE to go! Y/N can’t die, but we can! And she needs us ALIVE!”

Sam’s eyes tore away from Dean’s desperate eyes, to stare at the wall of barbs now between you and him. He was having trouble breathing and his feet felt rooted to the uneven floor.

Dean tugged on him. “Sam! NOW!” Another great hedge of thorns began to erupt beneath their feet, and finally Dean managed to heave Sam away.

The Winchesters burst into the sunlight to see Crowley looking at them from across the crumbling parking lot. The ground was shuddering beneath their feet as they ran back to the Impala. Every bit of Sam was scratched and bleeding freely, his jeans and shirt torn. The side of Dean’s face and neck were cut from the grappling spines, sending little droplets of blood running down to stain his collar.

Crowley stared in wonder and fury as his headquarters was devoured by tough vines of dark wood, wreathed in gnarly thorns the crimson color of spilled blood. “Bollocks…” he muttered, his lip curling.

Crowley withdrew his cell phone and pressed a button. “Rodney. Yes. Relocate everyone back to hell and—“

Suddenly Crowley’s head whipped back and to the side and his phone skittered down to the pavement. He quickly straightened himself up again and scowled at Dean with fury, who was standing there glaring at him with an expression of pure abhorrence and fire as he shook out the hand that had just made solid contact with Crowley’s face. “Would you two STOP BLOODY DOING THAT?!” he roared, his face going as crimson as the thorns in the background.

Sam stood silently facing the tangle of thorns, an impenetrable fortress of barbs, completely oblivious to the argument unfolding behind him.

”You deserve every bit of that and more, Crowley!” Dean howled. “How the FUCK are we going to get to Y/N, now?”

Dean and Crowley descended into angry bickering.

“We were so close,” Sam muttered. His quiet voice stalled Dean’s, and even Crowley’s yelling.

A lump formed in Dean’s throat. “We’ll get her back, Sam. Somehow.”

_ _ _ _ _ _

You became suddenly aware and found yourself in the most peculiar space. Everything around you was black and the space was seemingly endless, cloaked in velvety darkness. “Hello?” you ventured. You were met with only the echoes of your own voice as an answer. Your feet were cold and you looked down to see that they were bare and that you were standing in six inches of frigid water. The surface was perfectly still except for the ripples you sent growing as you took a few cautious steps. Looking down at the water was like peering into a dark mirror; you saw only the reflection of your pale self surrounded by infinite night.

Turning your eyes away from the water you searched the darkness. For a moment you thought you had heard a faint voice saying your name. Your heart pounded and you strained your ears. “H-hello?” you called again.

There. There it was again; your name, like a whisper in the black space. And the voice was familiar and sent your head and heart reeling. “SAM!” you screamed. His name echoed back to you and you could hear the desperation in your own voice.

You heard your name faintly again and began to run. The uniform blackness made it hard to tell if you were even moving, but the cold water splashed around your ankles and the disturbance grew as you moved. “SAM!” you screamed again. The whisper of your name sounded again, now resonating behind you. You halted and spun around, panic beginning to take hold. Where were you?

You stood perfectly still, straining to hear his voice again. “Sam?” Your whisper sounded fragile and brittle as it echoed in the emptiness.

But the silence was broken in another instant. There was a splash somewhere in the distant space, as of something falling into the water, and you startled and gasped as you spun to face the direction that was the origin of the noise. Your heart pounded more assertively in your chest and you clenched your cold fingers into fists, straining your hearing to its limits.

There was now a faint rippling sound far off in the darkness and an overwhelming sense foreboding paralyzed you. You found yourself only able to draw tight, shallow breaths and wait as whatever was moving in the blackness wandered closer…

In another world, you slept on, now surrounded by a hedge of thorns of unknowable height and depth, ever-growing, the red rose at your fingertips now wilting and the text on sodden papers scattered underneath you fading.

[lids-flutter-open]

mediocre character development stuff under cut sorry if ur on mobile its long text

its abt my character elaine first person pov cuz im trying to write some extra-textual sketches to figure out some scenes

Dawn came up over the hill as the bus was edging closer to the Oregon border. Chad was sitting next to me slumped into his seat with his head to one side. His hair was longer than mine had been a year ago and it was oily from days camping. He hadn’t shaved and his skin looked like a mess. He smelled like cigarettes and campfire smoke. I looked at my reflection in the bus window in the blue light of the early January morning and winced my skin clean with the spell I’d learned from Irma back in Kansas. I wished I could scrape the outer layer of my skin off with a rock or a very wide razor file. I looked over at a woman who was reading a book with a  little lamp she clipped onto the cover. She was clean and wore jeans with rhinestones and had gotten on the bus in some tiny town late the night before. I had noticed she was giving me sidelong glances. I thought about how I would like to be her if the opportunity presented itself. I bet she was the child of an auto mechanic or a copy shop clerk and took classes at her local community college. Her hands were all manicured and clean on the pages of her novel. She looked like she was in the middle of a good part now and didn’t care about us any more.      

We went over the border and I sort of half expected them to stop us and search for fruits or werewolves on board, even though I knew that since we were on a bus we were pretty much cleared to go. I took my wallet out again and looked at the fake ID I’d gotten back in L.A again just to make sure it didn’t look too fake. It had my mom’s first name on it and then a made up last name. Next to it were three cards from Rodney that I usually kept hidden in my socks. I kept expecting Rodney to cancel them but whenever I used them they went through. The bus rocketed through these forests of green icy tall trees and into Oregon and I fell asleep for a minute and missed the second the sun came over the edge of the horizon.

Salem was a small town in the middle of a lot of highway. It’s the capital, but you wouldn’t know it. You can see Mount Hood on a clear day. The first time I visited I was deeply underwhelmed. There was a diner or four and a small downtown that you felt was gonna get filled up in the next ten years with antique shops. People here were mostly white and mostly drove cars everywhere. The land was flat and it was on a river. It was the third biggest town in Oregon, which goes to show that not many people really live in Oregon. Chad told me that the main thing here was the state and then a potato chip factory and then berry farms outside town. And timber. I hadn’t been to Salem in a couple years and it hadn’t changed much. This time of year the roads were covered in ice and when we went over bumps there was this kind of terrible sense you could slip. I watched the sunrise through the window. It looked like cat vomit. I checked through my bag for everything I needed to set up camp and then everything else I had on me that hadn’t gotten too heavy. I had a swimsuit from the three months Chad and I had lived in a house on a beach with this dude who turned out to be hooked on Oxy. I had four diaries. I still had a mix tape from Felix, who was dead and buried somewhere in Missouri. I wanted a cigarette but Chad and I had had a fight about how it was bad for him so now I was trying not to smoke and anyway I only had three Camels left.

“You want me to read your Tarot cards?” I turned to Chad. “I still have the set you gave me.”

He mumbled in his sleep. I looked over at the woman reading the book and thought about what she would do if I asked to read her cards. She was the only other person that was sitting towards the back of the bus. Up near the front there were three heavyset short men who looked related, all zoning out or sleeping under their knit hats and heavy coats. The bus was overheated and I felt sweat dripping down my stomach under my sweatshirt.

Chad woke up as we got into the Greyhound station across from the hospital. He sat down on the curb at the edge of the street and smoked the last of his weed. We waited for Josh, his friend, to show up.

“How’s being sober?” Chad asked me.

“It’s okay,” I said. “I don’t feel like there’s something dead in my mouth and it’s morning at the same time.”

“We can fix that,” Chad said. “You want breakfast somewhere? We still have a little cash, right? We can eat some dead stuff.”

“I’m saving that cash to buy a Jeep.”

“You got your cards too,” Chad said.

“My Tarot deck?”

“Whatever, I know Rodney isn’t gonna cancel those. He doesn’t even pick up his mail, he probably has no idea what you’re spending.”

I watched the rhinestone jean girl get into a van with a man that had a giant piercing through his nose and wondered what I didn’t know about her. I wanted to ask Chad if he’d seen her but he was standing up and walking around and stretching and the moment was gone. I looked around and wondered where there was some place to get breakfast. There was a hospital across the street and next to it was the university.

  ***

The cops came up the steps and everyone was going in a million different directions and I felt like this ripple down my spine of sweat and fear. I looked at Aysel. She was standing in the middle of everything looking stupid and lost as people ran all over like shrimp on a beach. I couldn’t see her friend. Chad pushed past me back into the living room and Carmen bolted out the back door. I saw a lot of the people from downtown who weren’t wolves give panicked glances to one another. I knew they were thinking, fuck, what the hell did we get ourselves into? I wondered if one of them was a plant, or one of our crew, but at this particular moment it didn’t matter a lot. I saw everyone running into the basement and wanted to scream that that was the most idiotic fucking thing you could possibly do unless you planned to like hide under a pile of coal like it was the Soviets coming to collectivize us in 1918 or something, and as far as I knew there wasn’t any coal down there. I ran over and grabbed Aysel’s hand and said something mean under my breath to Chad. Aysel’s hand felt all sweaty. We weren’t going to make it out before the cops came in but we could get out of sight so I hung onto her and tore around the corner and flattened myself toward the floor. We were near an exit and there was nothing blocking it. If there was some kind of distraction I thought we could make it. The cops might surround the place but I had bets that the back garden wasn’t covered yet. I thought about the time in Philly when someone had beat apart the fuse box with a hammer when the cops got called because they had a hiding place right near it and all the lights went out and nearly everyone got away. If I turned out the lights the cops might just start shooting and plant guns on our dead bodies later. I couldn’t hear any helicopters but I thought there might be some I couldn’t hear, because everyone was being so fucking loud.

I told Aysel to be ready to run and meanwhile I was thinking about how she probably could not run fast enough.

Chad was standing there like a stupid idiot and shouted some bullshit and tried to be all heroic. His body was all tense and upright. He said something loud I don’t remember and then the cops opened fire and I yanked Aysel’s arm out of her tiny arm socket and we fucking bolted. I hated running from shit then and I hate it now and I will hate it forever. I stopped smoking but my lungs still hurt all the time and I can still barely breathe. The safe house in Salem was ok at least because it’s up against all these private yards that you know the cops won’t clamber into so you can throw yourself through them and lose people pretty fast. I got leaves and wet mud up the sides of my jeans but I barely registered it.

“Did you see who they shot?”

Aysel panted something and I couldn’t hear her.

We stopped and I was seeing sparks in front of my eyes and my heart was pounding like a fucked clock or whatever and it hit me in an instant that Chad was like, probably really dead, and the way my life was together wasn’t a thing that was actually together, it was just stuck haphazardly into a shape and the shape had just broken. I looked at Aysel and she looked like this fucking kid, suddenly, like she always looked young but suddenly she was looking at me like I was her mom and I wasn’t her fucking mom and her real mom was looking for her and I wasn’t anyone, I was this nobody loser asshole who had taken her to the movies like I was some kind of predatory lesbian from a pulp novel and then taken her to a weird political meeting that had gotten busted by cops and she was just in it all and knee deep in her own excitement and I’d fucked her over and now we were covered in mud in some parking lot. Her hair was matted and I thought about how she wasn’t even fucking out probably, she hadn’t even had her first lesbian haircut. I knew she wanted one, I knew from just like seeing her that she wanted short hair.

I hugged her thinking about how I was a fucked up person and she needed someone better and I needed someone grown up. I felt tears streaming down my face and I felt Aysel crying against me all burning and little. I felt her hands against my back and suddenly realized she was holding me tightly, like I was something stable. I ripped myself away from her and tore over to the chain link fence separating the parking lot from the road. I wanted to hurl myself onto the asphalt so the passing cars could crush my skull. If Dad had shown up with his rifle I would have taken it from his hands and hyperextended my arms backwards and shot myself in the throat with it. I felt more scared than I ever had in my whole life and I felt my body like electricity in a bathtub. I punched the fence over and over with my hands barely in fists, just tearing the skin on my knuckles open against the rusted metal. I have never had a tetanus shot and I thought about the diamonds in my mother’s drawer when I was a kid and how if I died nobody was going to put diamond earrings on me when they buried me. I wasn’t going to even die in a ditch in Kansas or on the railroad tracks or in a hospital, I was going to die in a gutter or on the street like roadkill. My hands were bloody and the blood was on the fence. I screamed at the cars and grabbed the fence with two hands and shook and kicked the fence with my boots until I slipped against the gravel at the edge of the pavement and stumbled and almost fell over.

“Do you want a donut?” she asked me.

There was this donut shop she was pointing to in the strip mall parking lot. I didn’t want to be seen but it was worse just sitting there and so we went in and I let her buy me a donut, feeling like pond scum. I felt the holes in my mouth with my tongue and bit down against my own teeth, grinding until I could feel the cavity that was slowly burrowing down towards my jaw.

I told Aysel that her friend was probably okay. I had no fucking idea where her friend was.

[halethesourestwolf]

Lucky (to be Alive)

For @minglewithadingle​, because, dogs. <3

Robert’s stuck in traffic.

It’s been a hectic week. The scrapyard’s been doing well, which is good, but it’s been seeing Aaron leaving earlier in the mornings and coming home later in the evenings. And Home James has been doing so well that even with Jimmy and Rodney out on haulage runs with the rest of the drivers, Robert’s still been needed to take care of a few himself whenever he’s not been busy charming the clients through the Home Farm contract.

He’s supposed to be down south, now, stopping at a hotel for the night before heading back in the morning, but he’s managed to finish things up much sooner than planned, and he’s heading back home.

Robert checks the time on his phone. 9:47PM. If he’s lucky, he’ll make it back before Liv slinks off to bed, and before Aaron falls asleep. He’s not seen much of either all week, and he’s not ashamed to admit that he misses them. The reason he’s slowly losing his patience as the line of traffic crawls around an accident site up ahead is because he wants to surprise them both, and hopefully manage an hour in front of the telly together.

Luck’s never been on his side, though, and the more he checks his phone, the more time passes while he’s sitting still.

Eventually, though, it eases off, and he’s able to drive away from the busier roads and put his foot down on the quieter ones. It’s 10:32PM by the time he reaches the village, turns onto Main Street, and slows to a stop outside Mill Cottage. He takes a minute to sit back and relax, and then he grabs his things and climbs out of the car.

He’s quiet on entering, making sure not to make too much noise in case everyone’s already in bed asleep, but he selfishly hopes they’re not.

And then he freezes in the doorway to the living room.

Robert smiles to himself as he reaches to take out his phone, taking a photo of the scene before him. And then another, to be on the safe side. He shoots off a quick text to Chas before putting it away.

Aaron is sprawled out across the length of the settee, fast asleep and lightly snoring, with a large mass of blonde fur pinning him down, and, Liv, readily dressed in her sleep clothes, curled up around his middle with an arm over the dog, fingers combed into her fur, as if she’s nodded off mid-stroke.

He didn’t make it home in time to see them still awake and surprise them, but he is lucky enough to have them here waiting for him, welcoming him home with a surprise of their own.

Maybe he does have some luck, after all, but he knows it’s more than he deserves, and he’s used up the limited supply he has on these two – on their proper little family – and he doesn’t mind in the least. If he’s unlucky in every other aspect of his life for as long as he lives, Robert doesn’t care, anymore, as long as he can always come home to this.

The Golden Retriever stirs, yawning, and sticks her nose up into the air, tail already beginning to wag as she catches his scene, which bangs noisily against Liv’s leg and the back of the settee.

“Hey, Lucky!” Robert enthusiastically whispers, smiling as she easily slips off the settee and all of its passengers to trot over to him, immediately jumping up so she’s standing on her hind legs with her front paws draped over his shoulders as he crouches a little to help her out. “Have you been taking care of them while I’ve been gone?” he asks, voice altering into the kind he’s always hated hearing others use to baby their animals, but he’s been struggling to stop himself more and more. “You’re a good girl.”

Lucky hoofs a quiet bark, and he beams at her, giving her an awkward hug as he rubs her down, massaging her ears the way she likes. She’s big even for a Golden Retriever, and she’s missing an eye, a chunk gone from her ear, and she’s covered in little bald patches where the rest of her fur conceals scars. She’s Liv’s dog, really, or so she likes to remind them as long as it doesn’t involve cleaning up after her; she found her abandoned one day while exploring, hurt and alone, and both as scared as each other. Liv tried to call Aaron, but ended up with Robert instead, and after he drove out to find them, together they got her to Paddy and refused to leave until she was patched up. None of them wanted to let her go after that, so they decided to take her in as one of their own, and she’s been part of the family ever since.

Robert scrunches up his nose as she licks at his face, but he doesn’t tell her to stop, and he’s still smiling. He’s never been a huge dog person, not that he’s ever had anything against them, but seeing how terrified Liv was of losing her that day, and of how much joy and happiness she’s brought to both Aaron and Liv ever since, she’s grown on him. Some days he even admits to liking her.

“How about we let you out for the night, and then get these two into bed?” Robert asks her, and she hoofs another bark, but it’s louder this time, and more enthusiastic; she loves it when he lets her out, because she can play up, then, always dawdling as she does her business, refusing to come when he calls, and all the while wagging her tail as if knowing he’ll forgive her for it, anyway. “Come on, then.”

But as Lucky drops down to the ground, and Robert looks over at the settee, he realises they have an audience. Two pairs of eyes are watching them, both with matching grins on their faces, and he gets an overwhelming feeling that floods through him. This is his family – a grumpy dork, a troublesome teenager, and an idiot dog, all with big hearts that accept him for who and what he is, who love him unconditionally – and he’s never been more proud of anything he’s achieved in his life more than he is of having found them; he’s never been as happy as he is with them, either.

“If you’re thinking about telling anyone about this, I wouldn’t bother,” Robert warns, seeing the look that Aaron and Liv share, albeit sleepily. “I’ve got photographic evidence on my side and I’m not afraid to use it.”

He takes out his phone, finds the last picture he took, and turns it around to show them.

“Must be someone else,” Liv says, extracting herself from the settee as if that’s going to back up her statement. “Doesn’t prove anything, mate.”

“Yeah,” Aaron pipes up, pulling himself into a sitting position. “Looks nothing like us. Guess we’ll have to call it quits, eh?”

“If you say so,” Robert says, laughing as he reads a text message that chimes through at that precise moment. “It’s late. You two should go up to bed, I’ll lock up down here.”

“You sure?” Aaron asks, getting up and sliding his arms around Robert’s middle, and when he nods, Aaron leans in and kisses him, soft and slow, reassuring him of everything he needs. “Don’t be too long, yeah?”

“I won’t.”

“Gross,” Liv groans, but before Aaron’s even pulled away, she’s right there, arms around him in a hug, and he wraps his own around her, holding on for as long as he thinks he can get away with. “Night, Robert. Glad you’re home.”

Robert smiles to himself, watching as the two of them head for the stairs, and then turns his attention back to his phone.

You’re home, then, love. If you keep sending me these, I’ll have an entire photo album to embarrass them with soon. X

“Yeah,” Robert sighs to himself, “Yeah, I am home.”

A hoof of a bark grabs his attention.

“Come on, then, idiot, let’s get this over with. And no hogging the covers tonight, I mean it! It’s bad enough with Aaron.”

[thelastpilot]

Knighted- Chapter 3

I was gonna wait a little longer but whatevs here it is haha. Looking to know if people like it or not so i encourage comments on this on ^u^

There were a lot of things that were difficult to adjust to in his new life; a few things he had expected, and a handful he hadn’t been prepared for in the slightest. In the whole scheme of things he had never expected to make it to the castle or ever have an audience with the king. He had been thinking that he was just going to be taken to the captain of the guard and be assigned to door duty, simple and done.

Now, that had happened, just with a few more grandiose things ahead of it then he had been ready for. Fairly immediately after setting himself up in his room he did get to meet the captain of the guard and he did get assigned to guard a door. It was just the captain of the royal guard, and it was a much bigger door.

And also the captain was a woman, which was a surprise. And a five-foot-tall pink haired woman at that.

 Nino was knocked clean from his train of thought by a rather sudden and brutally vicious blow to the stomach, knocking the air out of his lungs and bringing him to his knees. He planted his hands down hard, dropping his sword and clutching at the thick blue cloth of his unarmored guard’s uniform with one gloved hand, fighting to get his breath back as he heard the captain shout out to him.

“ON YOUR FEET LAHIFFE, where do you get off taking a hit like that!? Quit your daydreaming, you’re on first spar!”

Nino dragged in a harsh breath through his teeth, groaning a bit as he looked up and across the training courtyard to see Alix Kubdel, sitting up high on a retired stack of training dummies with an amused grin on her face.

“Yes mam’,” he wheezed, fumbling for his sword and trying to ignore the guards laughing around him. He just stood as best he could and got his bearings again, taking a look around as his unit prepared for that days sparring run.

 It was late summer, practically the end of it now, and he had realized just that morning that it had been almost three months since he first arrived. The kingdom was preparing at large for the Fall planting and, for the most part, the eager gossip about a common boy in the castles’ guard was finally starting to die down. He’d reflect on the life of living in a city but he didn’t have much to recall, because pretty much since the second he had knocked on the armory door and met his commanding officer he had been pushed to his limit.

He got it, understood it perfectly. He was a farm kid; he knew a thing or two about sword fighting but absolute crap about anything else. He wanted to be stubborn and bold, retaliating against anybody who told him he didn’t match up to anyone else, but he couldn’t. The fact of the matter was that every member of the guard had been trained to fight since birth and was a thousand times more versed in castle order and societal etiquette then he was. It couldn’t be ignored. However, the real thing that set him apart was that he accepted that.

As much as it may have made him grind his teeth in the beginning he kept his head down when he was spat at, but paid attention while he worked. He listened and practiced and worked and he never complained, he just grit his teeth whenever a senior guard would dent his armor or cut through his uniform and he did his job.

And the harder he worked and the more he learned and the better he did, the less they could say to him.

It took him a month to sit at their table as they ate with any kind of confidence. A few of the guys were more accepting and had been encouraging him to ignore the crotchity veterans with their heads up their asses, something he held onto like a lifeline though he’d never admit it. He could always sit with Kim and Ivan and they’d do a fair job of telling anyone else to mind their own if they gave him any problems, but he felt a certain kind of pride when he could sit down and nobody said a damn word.

It took him two months for Rodney to crabbily correct the way he fastened his armor on his own, making a slanted comment but moving over to help him all the same. By that point Nino had been starting to realize that every single time sparring came up during training he was always first pick, and Rodney made a comment about how the captain was really doing him a favor even if it didn’t feel like it.

The more guys he took down in one on one matches the less they’d be able to say he didn’t belong there, so it was best just to get it over and done with.

And now at almost three months there was hardly anybody he hadn’t fought. He didn’t always win, he wasn’t indestructible. Actually he lost a good handful of matches right at the start, but something about the way he fought like he had everything to prove gained him respect. Over time the guys he was forced to challenge would have a few more remarks and bits of advice then they did insults, and as the tides in the guard houses started to turn so did his matches.

He worked twice as hard and fought with twice the strength because he didn’t have any other options, and it had been a straight month now without a single loss.

Didn’t mean he was buddies with everybody, as the pulsing pain in his stomach set to remind him. He looked to the side to watch as one of the graying fighters walked away with the shaft of a training spear in his hand and crooked grin on his face, lining up with everyone else for the captain to pick sparring partners to end the day before work set in.

A good number of guys still wanted to see him cut to his knees and sent back to his village, but he took no small amount of pleasure in knowing that, at this point, it was because they were sick of being shown up by him.

Served em’ right.

 “Done laying around?” Alix shot out, smiling as Nino didn’t even pretend to get in line and just took his place at the center of the field. It was a wide space in the western castle courtyard that allowed for significant portions of the guard to train at a single time, while the rest were either on rest or working throughout the castle. The grass had been green and vibrant at one point, but it had eventually been so worn down by countless rounds of weapons training that Nino stood waiting on just a large patch of earth.

“Yes mam’,” he replied again, his expression serious enough that she cocked her head.

“No snarky line? That’s disappointing,” she commented with a chuckle, casting a professional eye over the way he held his stomach. Though she tended to operate with an aloof air she took her job seriously, and she had no intention of letting the other guard get away with that little stunt. Still though, fighting with an injury was good practice, brutal though it may be in training.

The captain shifted her weight, leaning on one knee and tilting her face to rest on propped up hand in a way that made it look like she was really analyzing you where you stood. Her seat put her above the standard eye line of her men but when she stood on the ground most of them had a foot and a half on her. She was small, thin, and sporting a brazen shade of hair. Overall, she was not your typical soldier, and when Nino had first approached her she was impressed that he took her seriously. It showed that he was smart.

It was clear that his very first thought was, ‘If this teeny little woman can command the highest rank of the standing military with complete respect and obedience, I absolutely do not want to stand in her way and am just going to do what she says.’

She liked that about him. He respected her lead because he recognized immediately that she had to go through probably twice as much crap as he did to get where she was. She was powerful and she took command, and despite her difficulty gaining respect, she had absolutely no problem maintaining it.

She was silent for a moment, looking down over the gathered guards thoughtfully before settling her gaze once again on her newest recruit. And she had to admit-

She respected him too.

“Nino, this is about the time where I chuck you at yet another opponent to see how you do. I don’t believe in just patting you all on the back, you’re soldiers not babies. If you’re waiting around for someone to give you a biscuit it’s not happening.” Alix paused, moving now so her knees were spread and she was leaning towards him, head cocked to the side. “You’re a fighter and you work damn hard. I feel like you’ve been through your paces kid, so I’ve got one final fight for you before I let you off first spar.”

Nino stiffened, aware of every guard watching him intensely now. The air was charged with sudden anticipation, and the way the captain grinned at him didn’t make him feel any better about it. He tightened his grip on his sword and preemptively settled his footing, meeting the captain’s eyes as she said what he was really hoping she wasn’t going to.

“If you can take me down I’ve got something special for you Lahiffe, a move off door duty to something a bit more detailed to see how you handle it. BUT,” she countered, moving to jump from her seat and stride forward with the kind of confidence that made him forget she was almost two heads shorter than him. “If you lose,” she continued, smirking at him, “I’m gonna finally let Kim off guarding the dungeons and YOU get to replace him. How’s that sound?”

 The wager hung in the heat of the air like a bear trap filled with gold. Getting the captain off his back in training and finally getting transferred sounded good as hell… but he was not oblivious to what he had to beat to get it. And much like a bear trap yeah, it was the bite that got you, but it was the speed that pinned you down.

Alix waited for his response, sauntering out to face him centerfield and drawing her own weapon into her hand. It was usually a lot safer to use blunt blades to practice, but that’s not the sort of thing she believed in. She was in the camp that real swords had a much more… motivational aspect to them.

Nino mulled about for a moment, taking the threat of her seriously but unable to help but smirk a little bit. “Something special huh? More special then the ‘honor’ of guarding the guest rooms for a summer?”

She quirked an eyebrow at him but laughed along with the rest of the unit, the comment being the closest thing to a complaint he had allowed himself since he arrived. The rest of the men would have complained a hundred times a second if they had gotten the same.

Alix grinned and nodded. “Very special. I think you’ve earned it, or at least you will have, if you can beat me.”

“Won’t it be shameful for you to get beat by your underling?” he challenged, smirking to hype himself up. “By a farmboy no less?”

“And what will you say to the prisoners once they realize you got cut down by a woman half your size? We’re both outliers here kiddo.” She gripped the hilt of the sword in a way only a practiced fighter could and held it before her, smiling at him over the razor sharp line of steel as she said, “Now are you going to fight me or what?”

There was a beat of silence where neither of them did anything… and then all at once, he lunged.

There were certain things most people took for granted without realizing it, probably never having noticed it enough in the first place to contemplate what life might be like without it. But you noticed when it was gone, and it crept on you if you never had it to begin with.

Like the sound of your footsteps, but just your footsteps. At some point in their life everyone alive would know what it sounded like to pace down a hallway and only hear the sound of your own footsteps, not the sound of two or three. Always.

The princess closed her eyes as she walked, listening to the two staggered pairs of armored boots walking some distance behind her, with her wherever she went. She slowed a little, her dress flowing over the exposed tops of her feet as she held her step, and a short space back the two others slowed as well.

On other days it might make her angry, but in the moment it just made her sigh.

 Alya kept walking, attempting to ignore her ‘company’ like she usually did and instead focused on the warmth of the sun.

The hallway she walked down was opened on the side, sparse columns allowing for long windowless openings overlooking the numerous courtyards of the castle. The angle of the sun was just right that she was warmed by it as she walked, her hand trailing along the stone wall as she paused to look out, her mind wandering.

It was lovely out, finally starting to cool down from the pounding heat of summer. Still though, she knew how much her little sisters enjoyed the weather and knew that they would be sad to see it go (even if they loved fall just as much and always seemed to forget it). She’d be out with them now somewhere in the fields outside of town, but outings usually took a little more planning than that.

She couldn’t just go to the fields to enjoy the weather, as little as that was to ask. Instead it had to be scheduled, and the earliest she could take the twins would be the next day. That was actually better than usual, she had to admit. Most of the time she’d be denied all together, but a small outing like this was tame and her father had agreed to it. He didn’t like denying her anything but it always came down to a matter of safety, something she understood even if it annoyed her. If the twins weren’t going to be with her she’d complain, but even if she knew it was ridiculous she wouldn’t feel comfortable taking a risk to them.

Alya let a sigh slip out, grumbling to herself a little just for the sake of it and leaning on the stone half-wall.

There was little point in complaining about the same things as always, but on days like this she didn’t have much she needed to do anyways and she hadn’t had the foresight to plan something ahead so she was moping to pass the time. She had another free day tomorrow, which she would be spending with the twins, and after that there would be a long series of boring yet important things to do. Meetings, hearings, lessons, audiences… she sighed again and shook her head, the curls of her dark, red-tinged hair falling over her shoulders as she did.

It wasn’t as if SHE had terribly much to do with any of those, it was her parents, but she still needed to go. It was important to learn and observe, and she understood it was her duty but still… it didn’t mean it wasn’t dull.

‘Important’ but dull.

It sounded like her.

Alya let the sun heat her face as she stood there with her eyes closed, the sunlight painting her vision red through her eyelids. She enjoyed the sensation, indulging in it for a few moments more before taking a step back, preparing to leave.

It was just as her eyes opened again that she heard a distant and sharp sound, followed shortly by the nearly inaudible sound of cheering and hoots of encouragement. The princess leaned forward over the railing and tilted her head, hearing again another sharp clash, then cheering.

Alya looked down over the courtyards and searched until her eyes landed on the far off space of the yard that the guards used for their own purposes. Normally they would be training or sparing in pairs of two, but today it appeared to be different.

It was quite a distance away but even from where she was she could see that there was some kind of commotion, a full unit of armored men forming a circle around a single match taking place in the center. Alya leaned out further eagerly, her face lighting up in her hope to see something interesting. She was not disappointed.

From where she was it was effortless to pick out the captain of the guard as one of the fighters, her bright head of hair unmistakable. The Captain was a weird one, but someone she was fond of when it came to those who worked in the castle. She respected her strength and determination, her naturally competitive spirit allowing her to make a place for herself in a field that normally no one would have considered her in. Now though it was clear that this was her element, the young woman dancing around her opponent with boundless energy and clearly enjoying herself.

The second fighter was harder to place. Alya knew the names and faces of a fairly good part of the guard but at this distance it was difficult to tell if it was someone she knew. His back was to her for the most part, his foot work shifting quickly to keep the captain from getting behind him and locking her to a certain half of the circle. She kept watching him, but even when he lunged and was forced to counter the captain’s attack with rolling towards the opposite side of the field she still couldn’t place him. After a moment she turned her head, keeping her eyes on the fight but referring to her own guards.

“Dawlyn,” she called, remembering in time who had been nearby to escort her.

“Yes your majesty?” he answered immediately, approaching now that he had been spoken to but stopping short of the window.

“Who is fighting the captain right now? I don’t recognize him from this distance.” she asked, looking towards him to gesture his attention to the window and then out towards the training yard. As she did there was another sharp clash and the captain lost her weapon, the second fighter attempting to capitalize on it and ending up getting pitched to the ground in the process. In the short amount of time it took for Dawlyn to look out the window the captain had regained her sword and was trying to charge him but he backed up, keeping control of the momentum.

Dawlyn watched for a moment before humming to himself, glancing towards the early sun and then back towards the fight.

“I believe this is still the first spar of the day your highness, which means it’s most likely Nino Lahiffe. It’s a surprise to see the captain fighting him one of one though.”

“Nino…” she repeated absent mindedly, absorbed in the high energy combat. “I don’t recognize the name. I thought I knew most of the guards.”

“He’s new your majesty,” he explained, also admittedly engrossed in the fight as the guards around it let out another distant cheer. “He’s also been mainly stationed in the guest quarters, so it is unlikely you would have seen him.”

“Hm…” she hummed instead of providing a reply, her guard taking it as a queue to return to his place though she hadn’t meant it that way. She’d ask him to come back but she knew she wasn’t likely to get any kind of conversation out of him so she just continued to watch on her own. For the most part speaking with her guards made them uncomfortable, all of them so caught up in professional stoicism that they almost always restricted their replies to one word answers. Dawlyn personally was more talkative, but even he had a short limit.

The princess just watched, tracking the quick movement with excited interest as the fight seemed to be drawing towards a close.

As the man defended against an onslaught of strikes from his superior the princess watched him closely, his name trailing behind him in her mind as she tried to place why is sounded familiar.

 Nino’s knuckles were white around the hilt of his weapon as he tried to find an opening to counter attack, but it was all he could do to block. He had exhausted his strength advantage and was running out of energy to attack, but the captain was still backing him up with relentless speed.

He had managed a few times to disarm her with sheer power alone but she was always too fast for him to pin her down before she could regain it, and then he’d be right back to where he started. And now he was out of time to think of something clever.

Nino hit the ground hard, the wind getting knocked out of him for the second time as his sword skittered away from him. He was too dazed to try and get up right away, and just like that he felt something cold and sharp against his neck and a small, hard boot against his chest.

He knew he had lost before he even managed to crack open his eyes enough to see Alix’s face staring down at him, his captain breathing heavily herself as she triumphantly held her sword to his neck.

Alix let the guards cheer for her as she gathered her breath, absorbing the way Nino tried to hide his disappointment before backing up. She stepped back and lowered her weapon, letting him sit up as she put her sword away.

The cheers died down by the time they both had enough breath to speak, and it was Alix who spoke first.

“Now that was a fight,” she said happily, grinning at him as he struggled to his feet. He stood straight for half a second before holding his ribs again, managing a weak smile despite his loss.

“Well-,” he huffed, wiping the sweat from his eyes, “I guess I lost my streak.”

“You certainly did,” Alix couldn’t help but goad him, but her position as his superior couldn’t allow her to rub it in his face. In reality, she was impressed. “But I wouldn’t call that a defeat. A loss sure, but not defeat.”

Nino’s expression twisted in confusion in a way that made her laugh, and she leaned her weight haughtily on one hip as she explained.

“I asked you to fight with the wind freshly knocked out of you against your superior in command on three months of formal training and you had me going. By all rights I should have been able to knock you down within the first minute but you were clever enough to play to your strengths and drag it out. You did good.”

Nino absorbed to compliment silently, his breathing still heavy as he looked around him. Without exception everyone still looked hyped, clearly having been excited by the fight and he took that as a good sign. After a moment he looked back to the captain and nodded in thanks.

“Thank you Captain, I did my best but there was no outpacing you.”

“Naturally,” she answered with a cocky grin that made him laugh. She walked towards his discarded weapon and picked it up, returning it to him before saying, “I can see a handful of things you need to work on, endurance for one, but you’ve made huge improvements with technique and your foot work was unbreakable. You won’t always be able to rely on strength, so we play up the speed and train your endurance and you’ll be able to keep up with anybody just fine.”

“Yes Captain,” he replied, taking his sword with another nod and moving to put it away. He was looking down and was surprised when she spoke again.

“You’ll be transferred out to the escort team first thing tomorrow, your special assignment starts at mid-day so make sure your ass in armor and presentable by then. I don’t need a rookie giving us more of a bad name with the princess then we already have.”

“Excuse me?” he asked, speaking quickly as the captain made to leave through the ring of guards. “Captain, wait I thought I was going to be transferred to the dungeons?”

Alix paused, turning to look at him with a playfully indignant expression.

“Oh come on, did you really think I was going to let Kim off dungeon work that easily? He’s going to rot in there until he can afford to pay for everything he’s damaged in the armory with Max.” She ignored Kim’s agonized shout and the laughter of the unit in favor of continuing to answer, saying, “As far as I was concerned you had already earned a move up and a chance to take a crack at being a personal escort, I just wanted to see what you were made of first hand.”

She grinned at his shocked face and laughed as she turned on her heel, pushing through her soldiers and calling his last directions dismissively over her shoulder as she left.

“You’ll be the front-man escort for the princesses’ outing tomorrow as special assignment. They’re a handful and everyone else so far has been crap at handling them, but with your drive you’ll probably survive. Just keep the little ones happy and the eldest one from disappearing and you’re square. You leave at mid-day and they’re your responsibility so don’t blow it.”

She gave a final laugh and a wave to dismiss the guards to their duties, giving him a somewhat concerning, “Good Luck!” before she was gone.