#I’m just tap[ tap tapping the doc into the ao3 thing and we’ll be live

[ssreeder]

*vibrating gently while I wait for the next chapter*

😘

OMG I LEGIT JUST POSTED THE AUTHORS NOTES IN THE ao3 THINGY SO ITS ABOUT TO GO DOWNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN

[klikandtuna]

This is such a wild and wonderful feeling for me. The existence of the song at all… It’s just a pretty little poem that some random fourth-grader wrote, twenty-five years ago, and which their teacher’s husband set to music. You could probably count on both hands the number of people in the world who would even remember that it exists at all. (When someone is like “would you consider having this fanfic published as an actual novel” I’m like “do you know how awkward it would be to try to hunt down the original author of the titular song, who probably still lives somewhere in rural North Carolina, to ask if it’s okay to use it as the title of my Published Gay Porn?”)

But it has always stuck with me. It’s been my handle at times, on various social media places over the years (until the advent of klikandtuna, which I now answer to as readily as to my actual name). When I initially joined AO3 back in March, I joined as skyclearblue because I was nervous and shy about the fanfic being connected back to me via “klikandtuna”—obviously I’ve gotten over that, haha, just saying that this song has always, always been important to me. It’s just been part of the background noise of my mind, a bright thread woven into the Tapestry of Me for such a long time.

When I was casting about for a title for the fun new time-travel fic I was starting (I have to name the Doc, I refuse to type in an Untitled Document), I sat tapping my chin for a while, mentally holding up various word-garments to see what looked and felt nice…and Sky Clear Blue popped up. (It has never really left.) Sure, what the hell, I thought. Could always change it later if it doesn’t fit.

But it fits. It feels like it’s always been waiting for this, like THIS is why it’s been rattling around in the back of my brain for twenty-five years. It belongs to Azekiel Zedock Fell and Anthony Jasper Crowley.

And now—now. Now it has been transformed. Now @e-rated-beardo has made it into something even MORE beautiful, and now EVERYONE can hear it (and SHOULD because it is GORGEOUS beyond all belief), now this thing that maybe has only survived because my brain refused to let it go has been given new life. I have given it to my readers, and Beardo has taught them how it ought to be received, and DO YOU SEE HOW WEIRD AND WONDERFUL THIS IS??? That this tiny seed has sprouted into huge and glorious life??

@justlettheraincome, please play it, and I would love so so SO much to hear it.

(We’ll get Beardo to do Pondwater next. 💛)

Hey,

So, normally I am a really shy person on the internet, but you made this beautiful song Sky Clear Blue, and I just have to ask.

Do you have the notes for that song? And would you mind sharing them?

I have a guitar and I would love to attempt playing that lovely song.

Hello shy person on the internet! omg I got an ask about The Song! :D *sounds of angel-coded delight*

I don't have anything beyond Steph's lyrics written down, unfortunately - HOWEVER, I could absolutely scribble some down for whatever parts you're curious about, if you like!

If we're only talking guitar chords, it's a really nice and simple (comfy!) progression: alternating G and Cadd9 for most of the verses, one loop of G - Am - C - D in the lead-up to the chorus, and the chorus is C - G - Dsus - D. (The very final chord is a Dsus because ✨ambience✨ and open-endedness vibes and... ok that's not what I was supposed to be talking about here oops)

Caveat to the above: wherever there's a D chord, I alternate randomly between plain D and Dsus with no particular pattern, and I may have replaced some Cs with Cadd9 or vice versa here and there. Either of the two works; it's just easier to play Cadd9 between two Gs. 🙂

Technically I played the same-ish chords in the transposed a capella version, too, but simpler and on my mini guitar/guitarlele which is tuned differently so the result is a slightly off-key D - Gadd9 (verse) and G - D - A (chorus).

Before I go off waffling delightedly for WAY too long (omg someone asked me about an Art I've made I can talk for HOURS hello you're my new best friend)... Is there any part/voice/instrument in particular that you're curious about? Because, again, I could absolutely scribble down some sheet music for this (or maybe even wrangle GarageBand to output some for me; I think that's a feature it has??). I don't normally write stuff down much when I play because I find it easier to just noodle around and memorise and I don't tend to get too complex with arrangements, but I do read musical notation and guitar tabulature and I would be a completely normal amount of very excited to talk and write more about this as you can see SO. Yeah. Just hmu if you want more detail about guitar chords or notes or some other stuff; I'd be BEYOND thrilled to share.

Actual view of me reading and answering this ask ⬇️⬇️⬇️

beardo: *goes to town on ask*

(PS. I need to point out that I'm only responsible for the particulars of the arrangement, the physical singing/playing, and the time signature - Steph based her song upon another one, a recording of which she kindly sent me; it's got slightly different lyrics and a somewhat simpler chord progression, is in 4/4 time and gives sort of... cute country ballad vibes? I riffed off of the melody a bit and the rest... really, the arrangement did what the characters in my stories tend to do, and kind of just wrote itself.

Either way, I don't want anyone to imagine I came up with the melody or the overall shape of this song myself! I just kneaded it a bit and fought GarageBand to record it. 💜)

gonna tag @klikandtuna and @suzypfonne in case you fine humans want to listen in to continued talk about this song - you're both HIGHLY RESPONSIBLE for these amazing last 24 hours of my life and the existence of this piece of music after all

[alphawave-writes]

Clapback

Fuse/Caustic (GasGrenade? Fitznox? Dunno, I’ll use them both) SFW fanfic

Read it here or find on AO3 via this link.

Synopsis: Caustic decides to confront Fuse on a certain incident that occurred live on intergalactic waves involving Fuse's hand and his posterior.

—

Caustic is certainly not the guy to get his ass slapped. Caustic is certainly not the type of person to let people close enough to even slap his ass in the first place, but the games forces him to take a closer proximity to people. Relationships are confusing, messy diagrams of webs and chains and links, just as human bodies are, and it reminds Caustic why he never went into Genetics. Or, for that matter, why there are few who would dare approach him.

But Fuse is a special type of individual with all of the worst traits of the dumbest legends. He has the loud mouth of Mirage, the act-first-think-later attitude of Octane, and—on the rare occasion he gets serious—the wry snark of that pestiferous Crypto. It's no secret that Salvo is full of savages, which makes him a surprisingly capable teammate, so of course the producers of the Apex Games decide that for his very first game, he should be in a team with Caustic and Bloodhound. Of course he talks a big talk, but otherwise he has shown himself to be a capable individual on the battlefield. Unlike Crypto or Natalie or the countless other scientists he knew in the past, Caustic doesn't expect Fuse to be the kind to stab him in the back.

And then Fuse slaps Caustic's ass. Live. For all to see.

And with that, his carefully tailored public reputation, the persona of Caustic, it has all crumbled down to a few key words. Caustic: the man who's ass got slapped on intergalactic waves, and appeared to like it.

"Mate, it's just a cheeky thing the mates do to each other on Salvo. You're telling me you guys don't slap each other's ass after a game of footy or somethin'?"

"This is not Salvo," Caustic reminds Fuse for what must be the hundredth time. Internally, he has to remember to check up what 'footy' is. Probably Salvonian slang for something gruesome.

"Yeah, nah, I get that, doc, you don't have to remind me," Fuse sighs. "Look, even I admit I was tryna rile up the crowd, but I didn't mean to get you stuck in all this sh—mess." 

At least the man has some common sense not to use such vulgar language around him. Quite frankly he finds such crude words indicative of low intelligence. "It does not matter what the crowd thinks," Caustic says, even though he knows that's a bit of a lie. "What matters is that you have put me in an uncompromising position."

"Well, I haven't got you to an uncompromising position yet," Fuse smirks.

Caustic glares at him. "I expect you to rectify this immediately."

"OK, OK, sheesh. Look, I'll let ya in on somethin', if you wanna let the whole thing slip away, you just gotta let it die first. Fighting fire with fire may work on the field, but it ain't gonna stop people from coming up with ideas. Trust me, the amount of people who thought I was shacking up with Mags—er, Maggie—of all people…" Fuse shivers. When Caustic doesn't look convinced, he adds, "I've got an interview coming up tomorrow. If it pops up, I'll just say it's a Salvo thing. If it doesn't, I ain't gonna say squat."

Caustic doesn't know if Fuse is more wily than he gives himself credit for, or if he is just as idiotically open as Caustic assumes him to be, but his first instinct is to trust Fuse will keep his word. It's a strange instinct for Caustic to have.

"Fine. But I expect you to not mock me anymore in the future."

"No prob, doc. Although if you don't mind an old fella saying something?"

Caustic just knows he's going to regret this.

"You do got a nice ass. Real girth to that thing," Fuse wolf whistles appreciatively as he not so surreptitiously glances at Caustic's behind. "Ditch the apron, and I bet that beauty could be an ordnance on its own."

"Fuse," Caustic growls.

"That's the name, don't wear it out," Fuse smirks.

With a surprising amount of speed, Caustic takes Fuse into a hold and shoved him to the wall. His voice is low, his hold absolute. Months  and years in the Apex games have taught him many, many ways to kill and just as many to subdue.

"Oy, easy on the vest."

"What's your game?" Caustic hisses.

"Nngh. Let go of me!"

"Or what?"

Fuse tries to turn his head, his laidback expression transformed into something darker. Caustic does not disbelieve Fuse's claims of being a mercenary on the last, but he found his boast of being one of Salvo's best a stretch. But he's

"You wanna try me, Doc Nox?" Fuse grunts.

"How did you…?"

That second of surprise is all it takes for Fuse to slip out of Caustic's grasp and reverse the situation, pushing Caustic into the wall. It is now that Caustic sees he has miscalculated. He was too tight, put too much strength and effort to shove Fuse into the wall. The correct grip is a little bit lower, utilising not just hands but knees. Fuse's hold might seem more laidback compared to Caustic's attempt, but there is no doubt that Fuse has done this plenty more times before in the past. Despite his bigger size, Caustic doesn't imagine he will slip out quite so easily unless Fuse allows him to.

So there are hidden depths to this man after all. A fascinating test subject for the future, to be sure.

"Don't think I didn't do my research before comin' here. I gave it all up to be here, and I don't go all in without knowing the stakes. Had a client of mine try ask me to track you down. Said that ain't my style, but I remembered. And when you stay a merc at my age," he taps his skull with his metal hand, "you tend to remember things."

Caustic grunts. "I have no idea what you are talking about."

"We all know being in the Apex games protects you, and you know what? It's the same for me, mate. You play up the cameras, kill and get killed over and over again for entertainment, and if they like you, you get to live another day. And I also know once people know who the mysterious doc Caustic is, they ain't gonna risk letting you kick about and murk up the Apex bloody games."

"Then blackmail me. Kill me," Caustic hisses.

"Believe me, if I were hired to, I will. But since I'm not…" Fuse lets go of Caustic. He takes a step back, his light fingers drifting away from Caustic’s clothed limbs. The move is casual but done deliberately. A lot of what Fuse does and says, Caustic realises, is deliberate. Whether it's the result he wants is a secondary concern.

Caustic turns to Fuse and stares. "I do not know if you're idiotic or moronic to let me go without some form of payment."

Fuse sighs. "Doc, this ain't the games and this ain't Salvo. You said that, right? Ain't gonna spill your secret because I feel petty or nothing. We both want to be here, and we'll do our bloody hardest to stay here. You wanna take it out on me, take it out on the ring." His lips curl into a smirk. "I'm also more than happy to take it out in the bedroom, if that's your thing."

Caustic bristles. He's no imbecile, he knows when he is being propositioned, but he is not playing that game. Not with a man he barely knows. "You still want something from me. Tell me now."

"Well, if you really want to buy my silence," Fuse allows a small smile, "how about a drink sometime? You, me, couple bottles of beer, bit of classical music. Get to know each other better."

There is a lot to decipher with that sentence. A lot. But of all the the things Caustic can possibly address, "Classical music?"

"You know, Acca Dacca, INXS, Tame Impala. The real classics, not like that stuffy ones, ey?"

Caustic stifles a groan. "When you say classical music, I was expecting Mozart. Beethoven."

"Would you accept if I did that kinda classical music?" Fuse crosses his arms and leans just a bit too close to Caustic. 

"Typical Salvonian," Caustic mutters under his breath. Always so forward. Always think they can take whatever they want.  

"Ain't an answer, mate," Fuse says.

It's data. Possibly useful data from a new test subject. That's what he's going to tell himself. "One drink, at a venue of my choice. I can and will leave at any time I choose." 

"Deal. Tomorrow at 8 alright?"

"Fine."

"Cool. Then I'll see ya later, darl." Before Caustic can react, Fuse gives another firm slap to Caustic's ass and quickly walks away without another word, disappearing down the hallway.

As Caustic watches Fuse walk away, hand on his ass and equations ringing through his head, he begins to suspect that he might have bit off more than he can chew. He takes out his notepad, which he uses to write notes on the go, and flips over to the latest page.

8pm 12th February. Meet up with subject Walter 'Fuse' Fitzroy for alcoholic beverages and music. Objective: obtain data on subject. Ascertain weaknesses and strengths. Assess whether to team up with for future battles.

Note to self: bring padded pants and lotion.

[guigz1-coldwar]

New chapter for 'Overlord: Cold War' is out!

Chapter Summary: Zasha & Yirina arrives in Turkey with Adler where they meet old friends as someone is reliving a traumatizing event...

To read it on AO3, click here!

Taglist: @snowgoldwaylon , @clxudtea , @efingart

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

4th June 1984, 00H20

Zasha Smirnov, once known as 'Bell, MI6

Arriving at the CIA backed-up airfield in Van, Turkey

"Yiri, you're sure about this?" I was near her car, the door widely open as I was having my left arm above it, looking at Portnova on the driver's seat, the scene happening in the street near our apartment.

"Zasha, don't worry, I'll be fine," She replied to me, rolling her eyes around to look at me. "As I told you, I'm just going to buy some groceries and pass to the pet shop for that cat we saw, remember?" She said with a little smile, her left arm on the steering wheel.

"Yeah, but are we sure about the cat?" I asked, scratching the back of my head. "I like cats but in our place, do you think that...she will be happy?" I demanded, knowing that our apartment wasn't going to be enough for that cat.

"Of course, it's not because we live in an apartment that we can't have a cat," She told me honestly before raising an eyebrow to me by curiosity. "Tell me, are you afraid that a cute cat is going to take over you?" She suggested.

"No, I...it's not like that, love," I protested, putting my left hand above my heart. "I'm not jealous of a cat," I added.

"Mmhm..." She mumbled, shaking her head by looking at me, thinking that I was lying in my voice. "We'll see that when I will come back with her," She announced, turning the key in the contact to start the car engine. "Kiss," She said, causing me to lean at her for a kiss on the lips.

"You take care, okay?" I advised after the kiss, feeling better with it.

"As always, Zeze," She whispered before I moved away from the door to let her close it.

She waved at me with her left hand and kissing me with her other hand as I waved at her back before she looked away from me to start the car and drive away from the parking place, engaging the car on the street, me staying on the sidewalk to look at her going away and still staying until her car was out of my sight. I didn't move my eyes away from the car as it was stopped at a red light before it could go...

But then, as her car was in the middle of the intersection, another car at high-speed hit her right on the left side of the car and spinning Yiri's car away before crashing into a pole as for me, I started running to reach Portnova, my heart beating faster than I ever did, the panic taking over and impossible for me to hear my own voice crying her name, only able to hear the sound of chimes in my ears during my run...

"Zasha?" My mind suddenly finds itself awakening, feeling my shoulder getting moved as a sign to wake me up. "Zasha? Hey, Zasha, you're here?" I opened up my eyes to see none other than Grigoriev, standing right next to me, trying to wake me as I was on that seat in the plane.

"Grigoriev?" I muttered, my voice slowly coming back to normal.

"Are you okay?" She asked me, removing her hands off me.

"Should I? No," I replied, looking away from her to peek my eyes through the porthole, seeing that the plane was no longer in the air, landed on a runway in the dark, only enlighten by some blue & red lights along with it. "Been trying to forget but as you see, I can't," I said, going up from my seat and grabbing my bag on the seat in front of me.

"Did you think about...her again?" She presumed and I sadly nodded, my eyes staying on the bag. "Dammit, I told you to..."

"Told me what? Forget?" I cut her harshly, turning around to look at her. "I can't forget her, Grigoriev," I exclaimed, pointing my index finger at her, taking the bag in my other hand. "Easy to say, hard to do, especially when it's for me," I told her as she was looking down at her feet. "Was it the same with you when it was about Keller...and about Maxis?"

"Zasha, don't," She warned me, raising her fingers at me along with her head. "You're going on slippery ground with that, don't you dare to continue!" She threatened me, using a rather angry voice before she looked away, through the porthole. "I'm also trying to forget, you're not fucking alone in that case so don't try to provoke on that terrain," She added before she moved away from me to take her own bag at her seat.

"Uhm, I'm sorry, Gri-"

"Yeah, I know that," She cut me harshly as I did seconds ago, grabbing her bag in her hands. "It's just, I don't want to be angry but don't mention to me Greta & Samantha's name, just don't," She demanded, a calmer tone in her voice.

"Understood," I complied with her demand, realizing that it was my fault if I put her in that state before I looked around the plane. "Where's Adler?" I asked her.

"The big curious CIA guy?" She presumed and I obviously nodded to her. "He's awaiting for us outside," She gave me the answer before she gestured me to follow her.

With my bag in hands, I started to follow her as she was the nearest one of the door leading to the outside of the plane and when I approached it as it was wide open, there was something that came with us during our flight...and that was that cold heat that I always felt since days in London and now, it was here...guess that some things don't actually change depending on where I am...the same weather...

At the ground, Adler was there, waiting for us to get down on the ground, still seeing him with a pack of cigarettes in his left hand that he put back in his jacket after he got a single cigarette out of the pack to put it between his lips, a black bag at his feet and looking away from us before he turned around at hearing the first footsteps from us, going down the little stairs of the plane...

"Welcome to Turkey, this is going to be the base that we will use to organize the operation," He announced to us, his gestures mostly focused towards me than Grigoriev. "You're alright, Zasha?" He asked me.

"Yeah...I'm good," I lied to him, Grigoriev giving me an eye knowing well that I was lying in my voice.

"Good, that's what I want to hear," He exclaimed with a little smile before he decides to tap me over my left shoulder like that without any shame in a friendly way...very strange from him...

"Let me guess, are we the only MI6 agents around?" Grigoriev spoke up, her eyes focused on the big hangar that was having lights on.

"Yes, this is a big American operation but I needed Zasha and now, you're here too," Adler replied to her, moving away from me to take his bag in his hands, blowing some smoke out of his mouth. "And to add to that, some people are sharing a common point with you two, if I guess right," He said, starting to walk away from us as we start to follow him

"What common point?" I demanded, raising an eyebrow at him despite him not seeing it.

"Let's just say that some of the people I'm teaming you two with are former Perseus agents," He revealed to us, my eyes all going wide as Grigoriev looked at me, confused at hearing this. "There's two of them at the moment and a third one will come soon later this day," He continued as we arrived inside the hangar that was mostly transformed into a preparation place, having desks, chairs all around the hangar. "I presume that you worked with Perseus before, right, Grigoriev?"

"Well, I did work with Perseus but it was only for a short time 4 years ago," Grigoriev responded at him, sounding unsure of telling that to him as Adler stopped in front of a desk with a lot of paperwork on it, putting his bag at its feet. "I know that Zasha worked with them too but that's it, except the few run-ups I had with Perseus in the following years,"

"Good," Adler whispered before turning around to look at us, putting his hands on the side of the desk. "As I said, you will be teaming up with them for the mission in a squad of 5, I'll tell you more about it when I will do the general briefing before the beginning of the operation,"

"Wait, how much time we're having to prepare ourselves?" I questioned him as he was very vague on the subject, except for the file he gave me still in my bag.

"We're starting the operation in the following evening," He answered to me, moving his left hand at his lips to blow some smoke out of his mouth before he turned his head around in a direction at his left. "About that, here's Sims along with the two former Perseus agents: Bellamy Petrov & Katinka Goodman," He pointed out towards the direction he was looking at as I could see Sims in the same clothes I always saw him along with a man with black hair and a woman with blonde hair.

"Hey, doc', heard the plane landing, how was the flight?" Sims spoke up first, handing over his hand for shaking as he arrived in front of Adler.

"Very good, thanks for asking, Sims," Adler replied, moving to shake hands with Sims but then, I could see the man called...Bellamy, looking at me with a deadly glare.

"Well, well, well...isn't that our old Krypto that I'm seeing right now?" Him...Bellamy demanded in a serious & deadly voice against me, his fists getting clenched as the woman...Katinka was also looking at me with a better look, peeking her eyes to see Bellamy.

"Do I know you?" I asked him, narrowing my eyes.

"And of course, you purposely take me for an idiot," He exclaimed, looking down at his feet but then, he started to move towards me, his hands ready for a punch before Katinka quickly moved in to stop him, grabbing him from behind.

"Bellamy, don't!" She ordered in a clear voice as Grigoriev got near me, putting her hands in front of my chest as she was thinking that I was going to throw a punch too...I wasn't in the mood for that..."You swore that you will not do anything to Zasha," She said.

"You know my name?" I questioned her, sounding stoned that those two were knowing while I couldn't know them.

"Yeah, you...you don't remember us?" I shook my head at her question as she was struggling to keep this Bellamy in control, the others witnessing the event right now.

"Oh yeah, how it was when you gunned down my father, uh?" Bellamy demanded, keeping an angry tone at me.

"Your father?" I muttered.

"Perseus, it was my father until you killed him in West-Berlin three years ago," He revealed, sending a wave of shock inside of me, not believing at first what he was saying until his rage showed me that it was true...in front of me, I was facing the son of the man that got me in the Collective..."How it was, Zasha?"

"I..." I tried to speak but that revelation cut me down, impossible for me to speak further.

"Petrov, stop, your attitude isn't helping," Adler ordered him, standing up from his desk to put himself between me & Bellamy. "I know that you got a hatred against the CIA and Zasha about your father but..." He stopped himself to fully look at Bellamy. "You know well that we're your only way to avenge your sisters, right?" He suggested to him and in the seconds that follow, it was seeming to calm him down.

"You're right, you are," Bellamy resigned himself, Katinka removing her hands off him. "But I ain't going to be sometimes gentle with them, understand?" He told him before he released a sigh and starts to walk away in the direction he came in here.

"I'm so sorry about him, so sorry," Katinka apologized to us before she moved to follow Bellamy out of the hangar.

"Shit, never thought that they will be the two first former Perseus agents in here," Grigoriev spoke up, breaking the little silence after the departure of the two, causing me to look at her with a curious face. "I knew them before but it seems that you were the one that they remember,"

"Anyway," Adler cut me as I was going to talk to Grigoriev. "Sims, get the two to their rooms, they will need rest for later," He ordered to Sims who nodded at him before he walked away, taking another direction and disappearing from our sight outside the hangar, leaving us alone with Sims...

"Okay, let's get you both to your room, you're not looking well,"

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

23rd January 1984, 15H55

Bellamy Petrov, son of the fallen Perseus

Somewhere in Russia, in a hidden Perseus facility

"Hey, nice shooting, Bellamy," I was training myself with my pistol at the shooting range of the base when one of the soldiers that were with me during that training complimented me after I was done with my shooting, coming back with the target in his hands. "Almost all in the center but damn," He added, showing me perfectly the eight holes in the center.

"Thanks, soldier," I thanked him, taking the target in my hands to look at it in a closer way, finding that I wasn't perfect in it, my father wanted me to shoot the center with all the bullets and three bullets missed the target. "No, it's not perfect, I should restart,"

"Bellamy, you've been working on that for two hours," The soldier complained, rolling his eyes around through his black hood. "You should..."

"No, not like that," I cut him straight. "My father always needed me to be better than this, you know that," I exclaimed to him, giving him back the target in his hands.

"Your father is dead!" The soldier claimed, throwing the target on the ground. "He ain't among us anymore and the person in charge here is Stitch," He continued, using a rather provoking voice against me.

"Use better words, sucker!" I warned him, raising my hand against him and preparing my right hand for a punch but I stopped when I heard a door getting opened behind me.

"Bellamy!" That was none other than Stitch's voice coming in, making me stop thinking to beat up that soldier to death in here. "Come with me, I need you for something,"

"What is it about?" I asked him, turning around to look at him, seeing him in his usual outfit: black hood, military black & white pants...the same outfit he's been wearing for days...& months...

"Come with me, you'll see," He ordered, gesturing with his hands to follow him, leaving the room without any words.

I found myself following Stitch out of the room at a few moments of having to beat that soldier for insulting my father's memories and I know that I wasn't going to be pleased with what he's going to tell me or make me do, knowing that since my father died, Stitch has been taken over the Collective as I was the one designed to be the leader but said to have 'less charisma' than Stitch at that time, making me do some of the worst missions that I was given in years.

I continued to follow him around the multiples hallway of the base, everyone saluting him and not me at all before we arrived at some stairs going underground, the place that our prisoners & enemies were kept for interrogation and execution, and by looking at it, it seems that he wanted me to do the dirty job of getting rid of someone while he would be watching me through a glass but this time, we entered a room together where I could see two people on their knees in the middle of the room.

Both were having their hands tied up, a bag over their hands, and trying to speak through the bag but sounding muffled by something covering their mouths. We were awaited as there were at least 4 guards around the room.

"Who are they?" I asked Stitch once I was inside the room, looking at these two people, wondering who it could be.

"People that...failed miserably in a mission," Stitch replied, closing the door of the room behind me before he passed next to me to get near the two. "As you see, I don't like to be failed, especially when it's coming to the primordial missions," He added, his hands moving towards the bag of the person at my front left. "You said that you will do anything for the Collective, right?"

"Of course, to honor my father's work," I responded, full honest in my words, and his response...was a sigh...

"We'll see about this in a few seconds," He walked in front of me, handing me over a pistol from his holster, placing it right into my right hand before moving back to the two as I was starting to aim towards the person he was going to remove the bag. "Come on, say hello, Liliya," He said before he removed the bag of the two at the same time, giving me a vision of horror...in front of me kneeled, my two siblings...Liliya...Kory...in front of me...trying to speak through the tape over their mouths at me.

"What's the fuck?" I whispered, starting to tremble at my right hand.

"Your siblings...failed to capture two days ago, Russell Adler," Stitch revealed to me, holding the two bags in his hands before throwing them away on the ground. "It was a perfect plan: lure Adler in that American mall but they failed...they failed because they blow up the cover of our operation," He added, going to take off Liliya's tape over her mouth.

"Bellamy...please, don't..." Liliya tried to say before Stitch moves his hand over her mouth, shutting her down.

"I don't like to be failed and you will pay the price," Stitch affirmed to her before he gets off her, me impossible to move as if my blood was frozen. "Now, I want to see if you're ready to make any sacrifices for your 'father's work'," He demanded, walking to get behind Liliya & Kory, the latter trying to speak despite that Stitch didn't remove his tape.

"Bellamy, please, don't do this, don't!" Liliya pleaded as my gun was still aimed at her.

"I...I can't, Liliya," I tried to speak up but that situation...what was happening was terrifying me at my highest point, Stitch forcing me to kill my own sisters while there were guards around me..."No, I can't, I will never hurt my siblings, Stitch," I admitted, trying to lower my gun.

"I see," Stitch muttered.

"You will never see again for me now!" I shouted before raising my gun again, wanting to put a bullet in him at his other remaining eye, maybe knowing that I could die from it, and then, I pulled the trigger of my pistol but....nothing came out...nothing...the gun was unloaded...

"Not shooting his siblings...and you said that you will do everything for the cause, pathetic," Stitch scoffed at me, almost laughing before he gestured with his head to the guards behind me, and in two seconds, I felt some hands grabbing me at my shoulders and forcing me to get down, the pistol getting off my hands, my face against the cold of the ground, my body been held by those guards.

"Don't hurt them, Stitch, I swore that...I'll kill you for that!" I yelled at him, my voice trying to be louder despite my mouth was nearly against the ground.

"You will never do that, Bellamy, I'm the one in charge here," Stitch admitted before he got out another pistol from him and he started to aim behind Kory's head....before he fired a bullet...

"NOOOO!" I shouted when I saw him hitting the ground, her eyes looking at me before I looked at Liliya who was scared, afraid by her face, she was breathing rapidly as Stitch moved his gun behind her head too..."Liliya..." I whispered.

"I'm sorry, Bellamy," She said...before a gunshot was heard and she fell on the ground just at my sight at a few centimeters from me, seeing the scared look on her face...

"LILIYA!" I cried again as the guards were holding me to the ground, one of them forcing me to look at her, a bullet hole right between her eyes on the forehead, blood coming out of it and...I cried...tears coming out of my eyes at seeing her like that, Stitch killed my two sisters....and I was here...hopeless...as Stitch was laughing at my face...

"Burn the bodies and him, take him back to his quarters," He ordered to his men as they were keeping me on the ground, me feeling so broken at seeing my sisters like this...

We were different but they were my siblings, I couldn't hurt them...

[angry-slytherin]

it’s too hard(it’s too easy)

(read on ao3)

fever dream high

in the quiet of the night

you know that i caught it

Jo Wilson falls in love with Alex Karev when the tree falls through the window. But she falls in love with him when he tucks her into bed, and when he stops her from doing something irrational, and when he teaches her, and when he gives her a look that can’t possibly be platonic affection.

bad bad boy; shiny toy with a

price, you know that i bought it

She knows she shouldn’t like Alex Karev. Not in the romantical ‘please kiss my face off’ way. He’s an ass. He isn’t the person who is going to lick her wounds or say soft things to her. He sleeps around for the sex, he’s an ass to nearly everyone for the sake of it, and he doesn’t respect her relationship with Jason.

But Alex isn’t Jason or Paul. Underneath his absolute neanderthal behavior, Jo can tell that he wouldn’t hurt her, at least not in the way that they hurt her— the worst way. She can tell even if he’s not going to whisper her sweet nothings as they fall asleep, he won’t hurt her. And Jo thinks she can live with that; because the fear she can live without.

But he’s still not an angel, and he’s inconsiderate, and he’s difficult to get through to. She decides to overlook that.

and it's new

the shape of your body, it's blue

the feeling i've got

and it's ooh, whoa oh

it's a cruel summer

Jo Wilson quickly learns she loves Alex Karev just as much as he loves her. It’s like feeling rain on a hot summer night. A refuge from the heat, a calming sensation for your mind. It’s like a glass of water when your throat is dry.

And the sex...oh my god the sex. Jo thinks Alex’s slutty behavior may serve her well, because he is well versed in the art of loving another person wholly. It’s hot, and it makes her feel sexy, wanted. His hands up and down her thighs, his mouth on her neck.

Jo loves Alex, and Alex loves Jo. All the time, everywhere; in every way. It becomes a fact in her mind, imprinted in her memory.

hang your head low

in the glow of the vending machine

i’m not dying (oh yeah, you're right, i want it)

we say that we'll just screw it up in these trying times

we’re not trying (oh yeah, you're right, i want it)

The crux of Jo guessing Alex has fallen out of love with her happens with Meredith’s accident; her beating; her assault. Because even though she never would have held him back from caring for Mer, placing her above all else for the time being- it’s not even a question.

There’s no conversation, nothing. Jo just knows he will put Meredith first...he always does. Jo will never be his priority, love be damned.

“Hey,” Alex gives Jo a questioning look as he slips a dollar into the vending machine. Jo looks up from the chart she’s reading, a perplexed expression on her face. He hasn’t spoken to her in days.

“Hey,” she replies softly. Alex presses a couple of buttons with his knuckle. Jo taps her pen against her palm, awkwardly staring off.

“You’ve been here all night?” Alex’s eyes soften.

“Yeah, it’s been a long shift,” Jo sighs, pressing her lips together. Alex grabs the chips from the drop slot in the vending machine.

He holds them out to her, “For you.”

“Thanks,” Jo nods. Alex nods back, walking off. Jo is left in the wake, more confused.

and i cried like a baby coming home from the bar (oh)

said, "i'm fine", but it wasn't true

i don't wanna keep secrets just to keep you

Everytime Jo drinks with her friends, everytime she goes to the bar...he’s on her mind. They’re not together, but Jo is still in love with him. She wants to be together. But she’s scared, so afraid; he might hurt her. He’s certainly capable.

She hates being in the middle of this thing with him and DeLuca. She wants a clean break, a get out of jail free card. She wants to admit to Alex about Paul, her marriage. So, she does.

and i screamed, "for whatever it's worth"

"i love you, ain't that the worst thing you ever heard?"

Jo Wilson fell in love with Alex Karev after the tree fell, but love is so much more than a moment. It’s cruel, how hard love is.

@doc-pickles @odd-birds-and-booksellers

[ryosei-hime]

Sex and Therapy: The Assessment

Concord brings in a mechanic to assess Fizzaroli’s damage. Cog belongs to @tiny-security-mech​ who let me borrow her for this story. Available on AO3.

First thing in the morning, Concord put in a call to a mechanic he knew of through a patient. She had a good reputation and he liked to use other imp businesses when he could. When she heard what he had, she cleared her morning schedule to come see it. Not that Concord hadn’t tried to convince her not to go through such trouble. But she seemed excited. 

He’d barely finished his morning coffee and fending off attempts at early morning fun from Fizzarolli (he really didn’t feel concerned about the validity of his consent now) when she knocked at the door. 

He opened it to reveal the reputed mechanical genius. Her black hair looked disheveled and she already had grease spots on her cheek. Wasn’t he her first customer? A pair of goggles hung around her neck and she wore dingy coveralls and big boots. He started to put a hand out for her to shake but thought better of it with one glance at her dirty gloves. 

“Concord.”

“Cog,” she responded, moving right by him, toolbox in hand as she made for Fizzarolli. He bowed to her as she circled him. “Oh, man, where did you get this thing?” 

“The pawnshop down the street.”

“I pass that place all the time. I never noticed it before. You’d think they’d put something this nice out front. I know he’s probably not fully functional but he can’t be that bad off. And this is a higher quality model, too. Custom-ordered.” 

“Really? How can you tell?”

Fizzarolli aimed a wink at Concord as Cog turned to face him, holding one of Fizzarolli’s hands out and gesturing. 

“Look at him. This isn’t mass-produced stuff. It’s quality material.” 

Fizzarolli seemed to be enjoying all this praise and attention. He spun Cog, using the hand holding his, into a tight embrace. 

“Th-thanks, toots. You know, for a pr-pr-price, I bet he’d rent me out to you.” 

Cog turned red enough it stood out even against her skin and her eyes darted from Fizzarolli to Concord.

“Fizzarolli, no! I….will not rent you out.” 

“Aw, I’m ssssorry sweetheart-eart, looks like my master’s possessive.” 

He spun her away and used his good arm to grab Concord and pull him in to replace her.

“Please, don’t call me master. That’s not...how I...meant...”

While Concord was distracted by Fizzarolli’s lusty gaze, leaning in for a kiss, the jester’s good arm looped around and behind them to find the hem of Cog’s shirt, lifting it slowly. Until a hand smacked it away. He looked over his shoulder in surprise to find the formerly flustered imp laser focused on his innards. He tried coming at her from another angle but she slapped his hand again without looking away. 

“Looks like she likes work more than she likes you,” Concord teased.

Fizzarolli grinned, giving Concord his full attention now. He lifted him and drew him in closer, tongue flicking over his neck as he went in for a love bite. Concord leaned away as best he could.

“Uh uh.” 

“You’re no-no-no fun when other people are arooound.” 

“The more cooperative you are, the faster she leaves.” 

Fizzarolli’s grin returned in full force. 

“And then?” 

Concord wrapped an arm around his neck and pulled himself close to whisper. He was interrupted in his bribery when Cog spoke out.

“Sssh! I’m working and that’s...very distracting.” 

“Apologies.” 

Concord felt a little giddy at being so playful with Fizzarolli in front of someone. Fizzarolli set him down and sat still as half of Cog practically disappeared into his back. Well, mostly still. He kept himself entertained making lewd faces at Concord the whole time.

When Cog finally returned from her deep dive, Concord let out a laugh he’d been holding in and she looked confused. Until Fizzarolli turned and stuck a wriggling tongue out between two fingers at her. She went flush again and backed up. 

“Sorry. I’m really sorry. That’s...very inappropriate.” 

Concord cleared his throat as he tried to regain his professional demeanor but he just kept laughing. 

“He’s like six feet of inappropriate,” she responded, writing on a clipboard rapidly. “All right, here's the itemized list. I hope you didn’t spend too much on this thing because with all he has wrong, you might as well have bought a mass produced one.” 

Concord took the list and looked over it. It was nearly a page long and many of the repairs had very large numbers next to them. 

“I suggest you start with the voice box. That’s a wiring issue. It’s the cheapest thing on the list and I can do that today if you want.” 

“Yeah, let’s get that done, please. And when I have the money we should fix his arm next.” 

“Are you sure? The next cheapest repair is-” 

He shook his head as she started to point it out. 

“I’m not prioritizing by cost. I want it done in order of most improvement to quality of life. Can you figure that out for me?” 

“Sure, but there are a few of these you’ll have to ask him about. It depends on how essential he thinks certain components and features are whether or not you even want them restored. That tentacle mode is all messed up, for example. It’s the most expensive repair. Someone did a real number on it. Whole parts were just ripped out and that damaged the structure around it. You shouldn’t let him take too many hits to the chest, and I wouldn’t let him go through the washing machine. Otherwise he should be fine for now. I can either restore it which is this much or simply stabilize the frame which is much less.”

She indicated each price as she spoke. Concord couldn’t really pay attention to numbers right now. His vision had gone blurry at the thought of such violence against something that couldn’t defend itself. Something that depended on you. Even here in Hell there had to be a line. Or at least that’s what he tried to tell himself. 

“Cog, thank you for working with me on the prices. I know you have to make a living too.” 

“It’s no problem, Doc. Just don’t forget to send my cousin that pass on her anger management classes. And please do not actually try to talk to her.” 

Concord cleared his throat and tapped the papers she’d given him against the table.

“I had no intention of doing so.”

“Mm hm. But, honestly, I just don’t want anyone else working on him. I don’t get to work on something this high quality often. Thanks for the chance. Although I am gonna have to go outside my normal means to find some of these parts.” 

“If that costs extra, I’ll pay it. You don’t have to check with me. I trust you to get it done for the best price.” 

Cog gave him a shy smile before returning to Fizzarolli. She had been right about how simple the repair to his voice box was or she was so good she made it look simple. In only a few minutes she had the faulty wiring replaced and stood back.

“There you go. Try it out for me.” 

Fizzarolli put a hand to his chest and made a sound as if clearing his throat before letting out a low moan. 

“Ohh Concord. You’re sooo good. Harder!”

Both imps' eyes went wide as he started trying out different moans. Concord shoved Cog’s toolbox and a fistful of money at her. 

“Okay, thanks for coming. We’ll see you again soon. Bye.” 

Concord pushed her out the door to the sound of Fizzarolli’s untarnished laughter. As embarrassing as that was, that laughter made Concord smile from ear to ear. He’d taken the first step in improving Fizzarolli’s life. It felt good. It felt like he could make the world a little better for at least one person. It felt like...like hands on his horns. He tilted his head up to find Fizzarolli looming over him with a salacious grin. 

“I suppose you want your reward for sitting still.”

[craniumhurricane]

[ FINAL Chapter on AO3 ] [ Chapter 1 ]

IT’S FINALLY HERE!!! THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU to everyone that has stuck with me this long. It’s been a fun and wild ride.

Of course, I have to give a final thank you to @casleyislove who doesn’t even watch the 100 but is always willing to read my fics and to @sushigirlali who rides the bellarke struggle bus with me and I would not be sane without her. Thank you both SO MUCH for putting up with me and my insecurities.

Without further ado...

~~~

Before Kodiak disappeared down the hallway, he and McCreary gathered the remaining fourteen hostages and corralled them into the small waiting area. It’s funny that, just a few hours ago, Clarke was making plans for some future weekend with her friend in this very spot and now they’re probably not making it out of here.

“Hey,” Harper whispers, breaking her out of the depressing thoughts spiraling around in her head. “I need you to not lose it on me, ok?”

She glances up to see not only Harper but surprisingly Diyoza giving her a meaningful look as well.

“We’re not out of ideas just yet,” Diyoza smirks and subtly glances behind the potted plant she’s next to and back.

Clarke follows her gaze and can just make out the handle of Harper’s bag.

Before she’s able to grasp what they’re trying to get, the sounds of a scuffle echo from down the hallway, followed shortly by a gunshot and Clarke knows, can feel it deep down in her bones, that it's Bellamy. Bellamy has come to rescue them. Rescue her. And because of this and because she knows how much the universe likes to fuck with them, she knows what's about to happen a second before it does.

McCreary grabs her forcefully by the arm and drags her away from the others before yanking her to her feet. He positions her so her back is flush against his front and angles the gun so it's just within the periphery of her eyesight. 

"We can all make it out of this," he says in her ear and she wills herself not to flinch. "Just control that savior complex of yours," he pauses and turns them slightly to face Diyoza, "and you keep your mouth shut."

The other woman just glares back in response and McCreary must take it as agreement because he turns them back around.

In a blink, Bellamy emerges from around the corner, gun drawn and aimed directly at her. She sees a flicker in his eyes but his hand doesn't falter. He gives nothing away.

Clarke hopes her reaction is the same, despite the tears of relief she can feel building behind her eyes.

“Took you long enough, officer," McCreary sneers. “We’ve been waiting.”

“Let her go, McCreary!” Bellamy shouts.

Her eyes meet Bellamy’s and she can see the fire in them; the promise that he will get her out of this. She takes a breath and then another; tries to even out her breathing and will herself to be calm.

But Bellamy must stare at her a beat too long because suddenly McCreary starts laughing.

“Oh shit! You know her, don't you?” he taps the gun against her temple.

Bellamy doesn't say anything, just keeps his gun trained on them.

“Is that how you knew Rabe was my weak link? How you managed to get in here?” McCreary asks but he's not looking at Bellamy. Clarke can feel him staring a hole into the side of her head and then he's moving the hair off her shoulder with the barrel of his gun. She struggles not to recoil away from him as he whispers into her neck, “Have you been feeding him information? That’s very impressive, Doc. You’ll have to tell me about it... if you live.”

“I said let her go!” Bellamy yells again, taking a step forward.

“Ah ah ah,” McCreary warns, dragging them back a step and pressing the gun to her head more forcefully. “I assume you want mother and child to make it out of this?”

Clarke sees something flash in her husband's eyes, can see the gears turning as he tries to come up with a plan.

"Your partners are dead, McCreary," Bellamy says and takes another step to which she's pulled back again, "The building is surrounded. There's no way you make it out of this."

"Maybe," Clarke feels her captor shrug against her, "But where would the fun be if this were easy."

“God damn it, this isn’t a game!”

Clarke has to do something; she can't just stand here waiting to be shot. She casts her eyes around the room while Bellamy is still talking but there's nothing close enough for her to get her hands on.

All at once, it dawns on her then what Diyoza and Harper were trying to tell her. And that taking those few precious steps back have put her and McCreary in a new position.

As slowly and subtly as she can, she moves her right hand from where it’s hanging at her side and hopes that one of the women behind her is paying attention. Clarke glances at Bellamy and meets his eyes briefly. If he notices her movement, he doesn't acknowledge it.

“Here's what I'll do," McCreary states as if he's about to do this huge favor. "I’ll swap out your woman for mine,” he nods behind him in the vague direction of Diyoza. “And we’ll discuss the whereabouts of my daughter, hm? A mother and her child for a mother and her child.”

There’s a slight hesitation from Bellamy that draws Clarke's full attention back to him. Don’t even think about it.

He looks at her and visibly swallows before raising his gun a little higher. "Afraid I can't do that."

McCreary sighs, "Then I'm afraid we're still at an impasse. Only now I might have to slowly dispose of the other hostages until we can come to an agreement."

She sees Bellamy’s gaze drift behind them and can pinpoint the exact moment he makes eye contact with something… or someone. He looks back at her. There's a question there and Clarke trusts him. She shoots him a look. Yes, do it!

He nods and not even a second later Clarke hears the static charge of electricity right before McCreary’s body seizes up and jerks, releasing her and throwing her forward. With a startled gasp, she throws out her left arm to catch herself as she goes down and feels the impact as her shoulder hits the ground.

A gunshot follows shortly after and her eyes snap open immediately at the sound as she struggles to focus, to find Bellamy and make sure he's ok.

Clarke had no reason to worry, though.

He’s next to her in an instant, gingerly helping her sit up.

“Bell-” she manages, trying to check him over but it’s difficult with her hands shaking so violently.

His hands are steady, however, as they grab her’s and clutch them tightly between his. “Shh, it’s ok, princess. I got you. You’re ok now,” he whispers and then his arms slip around her to pull her close.

She looks over his shoulder and can see McCreary, lying motionless on the ground with a bullet wound in his head while Diyoza kneels next to him with Harper’s taser in her hand.

And just like that the weight of everything that’s happened in the last few hours finally caves in on her and Clarke starts to sob.

All she can do is cling to Bellamy as he rocks her.

They’re all eventually ushered outside where police cars and ambulances are waiting to take their statements and assess their injuries. Clarke has to practically force Bellamy to leave her side so he can finish wrapping everything up with his team. She sits in the back of an ambulance with Diyoza as paramedics look them over.

“These stitches look good, we’ll just want to clean the area a bit more,” the paramedic says before stepping between them to grab supplies.

Diyoza looks over at her, “Thanks for patching me up. And helping everyone stay calm in there.”

Clarke shoots her a smirk, “Thanks for tasing the bastard.”

Diyoza snorts, “Trust me, it was my pleasure.”

The paramedic that was tending to Clarke takes the stethoscope out of his ears, “Baby’s heartbeat sounds good but you probably still want to make an appointment with your OB. Now let me see if I can find something for your shoulder.”

Clarke thanks him and he rounds the vehicle. She smiles down at her belly and rubs a soothing hand over the bump but can feel Diyoza still staring at her. When she turns back to look at the woman, she’s surprised to see a soft smile on her face.

“Do you know what you’re having?” she asks.

Clarke smiles back. “Not yet. We have an appointment next week though.”

“Well, congratulations. And all things considered,” she stands up after the paramedic puts a new bandage over her wound, “Hope makes for a pretty great name after a day like today so if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to see if I can find where they’re keeping mine.” And then she’s gone.

She’s sitting alone on the bumper of the ambulance when Bellamy finally makes his way back over to her. Her arm is in a sling and she's gingerly sipping water from a bottle that the paramedic instructed her to finish before she left the parking lot. At the first press of lips to her forehead, she can’t help but lean into him. 

“You ok?” he asks.

“It's not broken, but I should probably keep it in the sling for a few days,” she tries to shrug but doesn’t quite pull it off.

Bellamy gingerly brushes some of her hair off her forehead before tilting her head to look at him. He doesn't have to ask the question again. 

She feels the tears start to build again. “I was so scared, Bellamy.”

She drops her head into his chest and he brings his arms around her, holding her in his strong, safe embrace.

“You did so good, Clarke,” he soothes. “Better than some people that are trained for situations like that.” He pulls back so that she’ll look up at him but he keeps his hands on her waist. “I don’t know what we would have done without your help.” He brushes his fingers along her cheek and she sees the guilt start to settle into his eyes, “I just wish I could have gotten to you sooner.”

She grabs the hand on her cheek and holds it there. “Hey, I know you were doing everything you could to get us out of there. You did good too, Bellamy.”

“Not all of you,” his lips twitch into a sad smile as his thumb swipes a stray tear from her cheek. “Two dead.”

“But fourteen alive,” she stresses before taking his hand off her cheek and moving it to her belly. “Fifteen,” she adds with a smile.

Reflexively, his thumb moves across her stomach. “I don’t know what I would have done if I lost you,” he says and she knows he’s talking to both of them.

She reaches up to brush a tear of his own off his cheek, “You didn’t.”

He leans in to kiss her and she meets him in it, both drawing comfort from having the other right there in front of them. They were a team, a unit, and they always would be. As long as they were still breathing.

[365daysofsasuhina]

[ 365 Days of SasuHina || Day Three Hundred Three: Generosity ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata, Senju Tobirama, Uchiha Itachi ] [ SasuHina, gun ] [ Verse: Oil and Blood ] [ AO3 Link ]

Pale eyes flickering in their sockets, Hinata looks around and around the three men currently in the back of the van she’s been tossed into, heart fluttering in her chest.

Oh, what a mess she’s found herself in, now.

Her current situation could be blamed on one decision she made about two weeks ago, when - during a walk to clear her head one sleepless night - she stumbled upon a beaten, mod-stripped man in an alleyway. That man turned out to be a member of one of her city’s yakuza, the Uchiha, given name Sasuke. After taking him to an underground doctor she knew - one she’s dealt with before while trying to help patients scorned by the insurance company she works for - Hinata found herself saddled with a debt. One from the Uchiha, who claimed her good deed was enough to earn her a favor. And he’s been rather insistent that he pay it.

This morning, she thought she’d found a way to kill two birds with one stone: she’d do a good deed, and get Sasuke’s connection to her severed, as it’s rarely a good idea to be wrapped up with someone in one of the city’s syndicates. A patient needed help from her doctor contact, and Hinata ‘hired’ Sasuke to escort them. Simple enough.

But their journey was interrupted by several men of a rival faction, the Senju, who claimed they knew Hinata was involved with their foes. After a skirmish and an attempt to run, she’s been scooped up into a vehicle and headed goodness knows where.

She doesn’t even know if anyone else is alive: Sasuke, the patient, the doctor...all she knows is that she’s hardly about to escape this on her own...and any one of them being left living might be her only hope.

Ten minutes pass in a tense silence. The three Senju stare at her warily, while Hinata stares back in barely-constrained panic. Well...at least they don’t seem intent on hurting her yet - because they have more than enough time to do so during their little drive. But eventually the driver taps the window between him and the rear of the vehicle.

“All right, we’re here,” one mutters. “Get up.”

Knees disobeying, it takes Hinata a moment to oblige, eventually being hauled up by an arm and crying out in a combination of pain and fear. Led from the car, she finds herself in what looks like one of the old warehouses by the docks. Old, rusted shipping containers make a maze through which she’s dragged until reaching a sort of headquarters.

There’s floodlights atop containers, blaring down on the ‘room’ formed by the steel. Computers, monitors, mod stations...if you could want it as part of a modded yakuza, they have it. Looking over the collection with wide eyes, Hinata finds herself sat rather roughly into a chair.

“Stay,” her companion orders, earning a small flinch with the single, curt syllable.

Across the floor he moves to approach a man with his back turned, waiting his conversation out before speaking. Said man listens before turning to Hinata.

...this is a big fish, isn’t it?

Arms folded, the new face approaches her nonchalantly, ruddy eyes looking her over. He looks a bit on the old side...but one can tell from his body language he’s not to be trifled with. Likely fairly high up. “So...rumor has it you’ve been aiding a certain person I’m not very fond of, young lady…”

“Please, I...I didn’t -”

“Don’t interrupt me,” he cuts in. “I don’t care for your excuses. My point is...that you’ve kept a particular thorn in my side alive when he was, in fact, slated to die. Of course...part of the blame lies on my underlings who didn’t properly finish the job...but they’ve already been dealt with. So that just leaves...you. Well...you and one other, but she’ll be here shortly.”

Hinata’s heart sinks. Does he mean the doc…?

“What I want to know from you is simple: how deep are you in with the Uchiha?”

“I...n-not at all! I found Sasuke-san by accident, w-while out on a walk.”

“And yet you knew exactly where to take him…”

“That’s...t-that’s because I do business with the doctor. I...I work at an insurance company, i-in the claims department. When clients get denied, if they need help badly enough, I give them her information so that they can get the help they need. I...I really had no idea she had anything to do with the Uchiha. And until I found Sasuke-san, I’d never seen one before in my life, I-I swear…!”

His eyes squint, seeming to weigh her words. “...well, we’ll see what your friend has to say...maybe she’ll corroborate your story. If not, I’ll just have to try a bit more convincing to get the truth out of you…”

Distantly, Hinata hears a rollup door rattle.

“Ah, seems she’s here...I wager she put up more of a fight than you. She, after all, has been on my list for quite some time…”

Hinata’s breath shortens. Maybe those bringing her in will have news about Sasuke…? If he’s still alive...he’s likely their only chance.

Eventually, sounds of scuffling footsteps reach her, and she turns to see the medic struggling against her captor before being shoved into another chair nearby. Unlike Hinata, her hands are bound to the seat’s arms as the elder yakuza approaches her. Already a few superficial wounds mar her skin...likely retaliation for her stubbornness.

“Well well well...look who I’ve finally gotten my hands on...it’s been a while, dragon,” he taunts.

“Tobirama,” she growls in reply.

“Save your venom, woman. You know I’m immune. Besides, for the moment, I want words out of you, not screams of pain.” Gripping her jaw, he forces her to look to Hinata. “I want you to tell me who she is, and what she knows.”

“Nothing. She’s a bystander - brings me clients from an insurance firm. She’s not affiliated with anyone.”

“Actually, I beg to differ. Boss...check this out.” An underling waves Tobirama over, who releases the doctor and moves to a monitor. “You’ll never guess who she is.”

Tobirama bends down to examine the screen...and then gives a soft huff of a laugh. “...Hyūga Hinata...well, I’d never have guessed. You’re that daughter of the mod mogul, Hiashi...how quaint.”

Unsure of what that means to him exactly, Hinata watches carefully.

“I don’t suppose you and your father are on good terms, are you? Because if you are...I wouldn’t mind arranging a little trade for your safety, hm? I have a few mods that could stand an upgrade…”

Oh gods...how is she supposed to explain she’s been disowned and therefore useless? If she does...is he going to kill her?

“Well...for now, I’ve got something else to occupy my time,” Tobirama offers in the wake of her silence. Turning to observe the healer, he muses, “I imagine this one has quite a bit of information I’d find useful...but I think we’ll have to have a little different type of a chat before she’ll open up to m-”

The next few seconds seem to happen in a disjointed blur.

From all angles, out from between and behind shipping containers, figures leap and discharge EMPs into several Senju lackies, their mods going dark as the pulses shut down the signals. Lights cut and leave them in the dark save for the glow of active mods. A few gunshots ring out, Hinata instinctively ducking to the floor. But then reason kicks in, and she makes her way to the doc’s chair. Barely letting her palm light shine, she finds the buckles of her restraints. “C-come on!”

“We just need to get to cover - seems Sasuke called in some backup.”

Together, the two women find a place wedged between crates, the elder shoving Hinata behind her to better keep her safe. All the while, only sounds can really be gleaned as the yakuza fight in the dark.

Within a matter of minutes...it’s silent.

Even so, they remain in place until a light beam finds them, the doctor instinctively moving to cover Hinata further.

“Oh thank the gods,” the man mutters, offering a hand that the healer accepts. “Are you all right?”

“Nothing a little patching won’t fix...anyone else hurt?”

“We’ll need time to regroup, but I doubt it. We had the jump.”

“Sasuke?”

“He tailed you and called me. I’m surprised Tobirama was this sloppy...surely he should have known we’d follow.”

“Maybe he thought he’d actually kill Sasuke this time around.”

“Um...I hate to i-interrupt, but…” Hinata steps forward. “What about Ito-san?”

“I left him in my bike and set the autopilot to a friend of mine,” the doc replies. “Hopefully he made it and is in good hands. Once I know, I’ll relay the news to you. For now...I better get back, and patch up myself and anyone else who needs it. Hinata...you’d best head home. Have an Uchiha escort you, just in case. Call in sick tomorrow, and...we’ll figure something out to keep you safe. I’ll provide a note if you need it - just call.”

“Thank you…”

The medic’s expression turns somber with sympathy. “I’m so sorry...I never thought things would turn out like this...are you gonna be all right?”

“I...I’m a little shaken, but...I’m okay.”

“I’ll have someone accompany you home,” the Uchiha then offers. “You saved my brother’s life...I owe you a great debt.”

“That kind of debt is what got her into this mess in the first place,” the doctor mutters. “Save it for later, will you? Come on...let’s tally the wounded.”

Left to wait, Hinata idles for a moment before jumping as a light blooms beside her.

“...Sasuke-san!”

Looking to her with mismatched eyes, his face is unreadable, offering no reply.

“...are...a-are you all right?”

“...I’m sorry.”

“...I -?”

“This isn’t how I meant to repay your generosity,” he mutters. “This was my fault.”

“But -?”

“No buts. I put your at risk because I wasn’t thinking. Now I owe you a lot more than I did. But at least we got a good hit against the Senju today...I’m just sorry it came at your and the doc’s expense. Are you hurt…?”

“No...just a little s-shaken up. I’m okay.”

“...I’ll take you home. And keep an eye on things for a while. It’s the least I can do, especially since Tobirama’s gonna be boiling after his losses today. But it was the only way to get you two out. Itachi’d have my neck if anything happened to the doc, and…” He seems to hesitate. “...well, I already owe you enough. C’mon.”

A bit unsure at his hesitation, Hinata nonetheless makes to follow, sheepishly getting astride a hoverbike behind him as he takes one left behind by the Senju. She gives directions as he asks for them, and eventually they pull up to her building. It’s only then she thinks to look to her watch. It’s after seven, and it’s then she realizes she also skipped lunch today to arrange Ito’s details...no wonder she’s so shaky atop everything else.

“I’ll hang around and keep an eye on things,” Sasuke then offers, interrupting her train of thought. “No one’s getting to you unless they go through me first.”

“...thank you…”

“Don’t thank me - you wouldn’t need this if not for me.”

“Well...a less honorable person would just leave me to my fate...you’re a g-good one for continuing to help me,” Hinata insists quietly. “...are you…? Do you need something to eat? I’m...well, I’m starving, so…”

“I’ll find something.”

“...but -?”

“You just get into your apartment and stay there,” Sasuke rebukes, cutting her off. “I’ll figure something out, but I don’t need you coming back down here unnecessarily.”

“...o-okay.”

“Besides, I still have your caller ID. I can let you know that way if anything comes up so you can keep inside.”

...she’d almost forgotten about that. “Okay...be careful.”

“I’ll try.”

After a brief pause, Hinata makes her way up to her floor and then her door, heading in and doing up all the locks. Thankfully she has some leftover takeout from the night before, reheating it and curling up on her bed to devour it. Sleep, she knows, won’t come easy tonight, so instead she starts bingeing a show the old fashioned way on her tablet, curled under the blankets where she feels just a little safer. Childish, she knows...but she might have a panic attack otherwise.

...maybe Sasuke is right. Maybe her getting involved - even accidentally - was a mistake. And yet...she can’t bring herself to regret it. He likely would have died there in that gutter, and...even after today, she couldn’t justify that. Not in the slightest.

Besides...part of her knew that someday, her underground dealings would get noticed, and she’d either end up in jail, or...well, who knows. But she has allies. Sasuke, and the doctor...and now, it seems, the entirety of the Uchiha syndicate.

Well...too late to go back now, anyway. She’ll just have to see what tomorrow brings. Speaking of...she sends her supervisor a message about needing the day off due to feeling unwell. Should be easy enough...she almost never takes time off. And it’s not like her department isn’t huge enough to go on without her.

Either way...the morning should be...interesting.

                                                         .oOo. 

     (This is a sequel to days 250, 254, 269, and 300!)      MORE cyberpunk AU! And thankfully not TOO long after that last cliffhanger xD Sorry about that guys, but this one's a bit longer to help make up for it!      Things are getting a lil complicated, aren't they? Poor Hinata...she didn't mean to get dragged into any of this, but I guess them's the breaks, now! But at least someone's doing his best to help keep her safe ;3      Anywho, I gotta head off for the night! Thanks for reading~

[super-mario-girl]

Ocean Moon, a Steven Universe fanfic - Chapter 15: Epilogue

Ao3 Link

When they at last landed back on Earth the following day, they were greeted with a crowd surrounding them along the beach where the ship had landed. It appeared as though the news of their disappearance reached the town. It wasn't exactly the welcome party they were expecting, but it was a pleasant surprise.

As the five were escorted through the crowd, they heard a few feminine voices calling out.

”MARA!”

”Guys!” Mara yelled. A group of three Pearls ran through the crowd towards them, extremely relieved to see her. Pulling her into a group hug, she became overwhelmed with happiness. This was what Mara had been missing all this time. It was so great to have them back, and a part of her felt guilty for taking them for granted.

”Oh my stars, we were so worried! We didn’t know where you were!” a tan one with short hair and a beige sweater exclaimed, her pearl atop her forehead. Mara could tell that she looked like she had been through some stress. Maybe it was best not to tell them about Bustamite right away. She knew Cashmere would have a heart attack.

Mara hugged her tightly, tears of joy running down her face. ”Cashmere...”

”We thought you might have gone missing or kidnapped or worse!” a blue haired pearl with a checkered dress and a head-side gem told her, waving her hands back and forth to convey her emotions.

“Don’t worry, Gingham. I’m fine.” Mara assured her, hugging her as well. ”I’m alright. You don't have to worry anymore.”

”Cashmere was freaking out like crazy! It was nuts!” Gingham added, breaking away from the hug. "We told her you'd probably be fine, but we still had that feeling something could have gone wrong."

“Even Velvet was crying.” Cashmere pointed out.

“Really?” Mara was a bit surprised. Velvet wasn't really one to show much emotion, she mostly kept to herself.

“Yeah...” said the third Pearl in a low, quiet voice. This Pearl was a dark red one with smooth, long hair that went down her back. Like Mara, her pearl was located on her navel, but it was made to look like it was a part of her outfit.

“We’re so glad you’re back!” Cashmere shouted, her voice filled with relief.

“You smell like saltwater!” Gingham retorted.

“Yeah, there was a lot of that where I was.” Mara laughed awkwardly. “Oh... by the way, I kind of brought someone back from space...”

“You what?!” the three of them exclaimed.

She brought Shelley from behind her. Still a bit nervous and obviously not being used to the planet, the new Pearl avoided eye contact. ”Guys, this is Shelley. We found her on the Ocean Moon.” she explained. ”Canwepleaseletherstaybecauseshehasnowhereelsetogo pretty please?”

”Woah, slow down.” Gingham interrupted. ”You want her to live with us?”

”Listen, I know it’s all so sudden, but she was trapped on that moon for so long, she has no idea what the world is like now.”

”I don’t know...” Cashmere replied, unsure. ”We hardly know her.”

”Don’t worry, I can help her out and stuff.”

”Mara, we just got you back, and that whole incident has gotten all of us pretty shaken up.” Cashmere told her. ”And now you come back with an extra person. This is a lot to take in, you know.”

”Come on, pleeeeeeeaaaasssssse?” she begged. ”I can teach her about Earth culture, and it’s not like she has to eat or anything!”

”I don’t know...”

”I’ll allow it.” Velvet interrupted.

”Yeah, come on, C! It’ll be fun!” Gingham told her.

“Well, I suppose a fifth Pearl wouldn’t hurt.”

“Yes!” Mara jumped. “Oh boy, we’re going to have so much fun!”

“Fun?” Shelley questioned, rather confused. “I don’t understand...”

“We’ll explain it later.” the hybrid assured her.

“Now that’s settled, we have something to tell you.” Cashmere revealed.

”What is it?”

”Remember all those discussions we had about moving to Beach City?” Velvet asked.

Mara nodded. ”What about it?”

”It’s official. We’re moving.”

Mara’s face lit up. ”Really?” she asked, excitedly. ”But what about the shop?”

”We’re merging with another shop. You’ve heard of Cutie’s House of Beauty, right?” Cash told her. "The one run by Yellow Pearl?"

“Yellow Pearl?!" Mara's jaw dropped. "Cutie's? Of course I know that shop!"

“Well, in order to do so, we’re going to have to move to Beach City, I hope that’s okay with you.”

”Yes! It's more than okay!” Mara exclaimed, jumping up and down. ”Now I don’t have to worry about missing my new friends! Speaking of which, hey guys!”

Diana looked over at Mara and walked to her. “Mara, Stevonnie’s here!”

”Wait, really?” Not only was Mara going to meet Yellow Pearl, but Stevonnie too? It was as if she could just faint!

“This is your chance to say hi!” she encouraged her.

“Where are they?” Mara asked, her heart pounding with anticipation.

“Over there!” Diana pointed towards a figure with long, dark brown hair talking to someone else. It was indeed Stevonnie, the oldest hybrid in existence.

Mara turned towards the other Pearls. “I’ll be right back, okay?” She ran off back into the crowd in excitement. Was she really about to meet them? Was this even real? She pinched herself to make sure she wasn't dreaming.

”Alrighty!” Gingham nodded, getting a good look at the new Pearl. ”So, Shelley, huh?”

”My name is Pearl.” she deadpanned. ”I still don't understand why I'm being referred to as 'Shelley'."

"We've got a lot of work to do..." Velvet sighed.

---

Making her way around, she navigated through a crowd of people all talking at once. It was a bit overwhelming, but as she got closer to the legendary hybrid it became easier for her to manage. It felt so unreal, being right in front of Stevonnie Universe. She also couldn't help but feel nervous, too. Mara gathered all the strength she had in herself to approach them. This was her chance to thank them for inspiring her. For a moment, she paused though, out of fear that she would sound annoying. But she pushed her fears away as she went for it anyway.

“Excuse me,” Mara tapped on Stevonnie’s shoulder. They turned around and looked down to see her. Here it was. The big moment. “You must be Stevonnie!”

“Of course I am.” they replied.

Immediately the girl became starstruck. “Hi, my name’s Mara! I’m so excited to meet you! I’ve heard so many great things about you!”

Stevonnie looked at this hybrid girl they had never met before. They were used to seeing new people all the time, so it didn't bother them as much as one would think. ”That’s wonderful. I don’t think we’ve met.”

”Well, I’m moving to Beach City so you might see me more.” she explained. “But wow, I can’t believe I’m talking to you right now!”

”I can’t wait. Welcome to Beach City, Mara.” They smiled. Noticing her gem, they began to realize something. Could it be? This girl reminded her of someone they hadn’t seen in around thirty years. Someone important...

"You know, you mean a lot to me. I'm pretty sure a lot of hybrids would say the same thing." Mara rambled on. She wasn't prepared for this, but she made do. "I just wanted to thank you. For everything."

Stevonnie paused. Had she really followed her Diamond’s footsteps after all? This fact was a lot to take in. After they took a better look, they knew it was indeed her daughter.Taking a deep breath, they shook her hand. They felt themselves getting a little emotional. No, now wasn’t the time. “Welcome, back.”

---

Eyeball walked towards Doc, a smile on her face. Despite her happiness, she remained calm and professional, saluting her fellow Ruby with her hand on her forehead. She was worried about what she had to say about what could technically been seen as a failure, but Doc seemed to be in a good mood despite the setback.

”Welcome, back soldier. I'm so glad to see you alive and well.” Doc greeted, patting her on the back.

”We got more important news.” the veteran revealed.

”Do tell.” Doc requested.

"Okay, well..." she paused in order to get the right words out of her mouth. The fact that she managed to defeat a Bustamite, a rare and powerful type of Gem, was already unbelievable. But it was something she had to tell her. ”My group and I were attacked by a rogue Bustamite.”

”A Bustamite?!” Doc murmured, losing her professional stance. ”My stars! And you survived?”

“It wasn’t easy, let me tell you.” Eyeball tried to word it in a way that didn't sound like she was bragging.

“How’d you do it? Those Bustamites can’t be messed with.” Doc leaned forward, visibly interested in what the other Ruby had to say.

”I was able to use my skills to destabilize her. She is guilty of both assault and illegal ownership of a Pearl.” Eyeball explained. ”The bubble has been sent for evaluation.”

”You did good. I’m proud of you.” the chest Ruby congratulated. “Your first leading mission was indeed a success.”

“But the ship crashed, preventing us from getting to our intended destination.”

“While that is true, you also were able to stop a criminal and keep your group safe. That doesn’t sound like a failure to me.” she assured her. “You did just fine.”

”Thank you, Doc.” Eyeball said, pulling her into a hug and smiling. "It's good to be back."

---

”HEEEYYYYY!” a large crowd of Quartzes dogpiled onto Betty, an act of affection that would scare most people. “Betty’s back!” The group toppled her onto the ground while all talking at once excitedly. Several chants of “you’re back” could be heard from them.  Betty had to push a few of them off of her before standing back up and breathing heavily. Even for someone who was half Agate, this whole endeavor wore her out more than she anticipated. Perhaps she needed a nice bath when she got home.

“Guys, guys, gimme some space, will ya?” she requested, still recovering from what had happened before. She was used to this from them, but it had been a while.

“We missed you!” Sharky, one of the Amethysts, cheered. “We didn’t wanna lose ya.”

"Elle almost went looking for you herself and I had to stop her." Skinny

“You gotta tell us about space, girl!” Jay, another one with curly hair, demanded, jumping up and down.

“What did you see?” Carnelian tugged on her braid in order to get her attention, something the short Gem had developed a quite endearing habit of since the hybrid started wearing them as a kid.

Betty smiled. It was nice to see how much they cared for her despite their problems with her mother in the past. They treated her like she was one of them, giving her a kinship with them, especially after the death of her father. The Famethyst really were a family, and the tightest-knit one she knew of.

"Oh man, we ended up on this ocean planet and stayed inside an abandoned base." she revealed, brushing the dust off her clothes. "We fought this angry pink Gem with telekinetic powers and someone almost got killed!"

"Sick!" a pinkish looking Amethyst shouted.

"Give us more of the details!" Sharky added after giving her a playful punch on the shoulder.

Betty gave them a smug look and softly punched her back. “I’ll tell you about it later, after I introduce you to my new boyfriend.”

“BOYFRIEND?!” they all screamed, dramatically pretending to fall back in shock.

Betty couldn't help but laugh at their reaction. She had a lot to tell them about the Ocean Moon and Harry. Would they even like him? They probably would, but there was always that worry she had that they might intimidate him.

---

Harry looked around the crowd for someone, an anxious look on his face. Where was he? It wouldn't be unlike him not to show up, but it was the least he could do for something as important as this. Or at least send someone to get his son for him.

Luckily, he spotted a familiar figure. “Dad!” he called out upon seeing an older man in a fancy gray suit. He had brown skin much like his son, and his dark hair showed signs of visible graying. By the look on his face, he seemed concerned.

”I was worried about you, son.” he told him. ”I had a feeling I shouldn't have let you go on this trip.”

”But Dad, I-”

”You could have been hurt!” he interrupted. "I don't want to lose you."

”But I’m fine!” he exclaimed. ”Besides, I’m 29. You have no control over me and I would have gone anyway even if you were against it." he crossed his arms. "You really should start treating me like an adult.”

"I care about you a lot. But I also care about your well being." he put his hand on his son's shoulders and looked him in the eye. "I have to make sure you don't hurt yourself or you image."

"Come on, is my image really that important?"

”This discussion is over.” his father stated. ”Say goodbye to your friends, because we’re going home right away.”

”Can’t you at least let me introduce you to my new girlfriend?”

“You got a girlfriend?” He pulled his hand away.

"Yes. I know I'm suppose to get your approval first, but I want to make my own decisions on this." his son explained to him. Sick of being treated like a child, he felt the need to start calling his own shots. And his love life would be among the first.

Mr. Ross took a deep breath and sighed. “You can introduce me to her later, I have an important meeting to attend to.”

“Ugh, fine.” Harry groaned. There really was no reasoning with him. As long as he lived with him, there were so many rules he had to deal with. He walked toward Betty, dreading the goodbye.

---

“Diana, there you are!” a high pitched voice called out. Diana turned to see an Aquamarine wearing a doctor’s outfit, her hair tied up neatly. Flying towards her with a clipboard in hand, she had a friendly demeanor and some important information to tell. “Just making sure everyone is accounted for. I need you and all the others to meet me at my office sometime this week to make sure none of you caught any new diseases.” she glanced over at Diana’s bruises. ”But it looks like you need to be looked at immediately.”

”Sorry, there was a bit of roughing up.” she admitted, wincing while remembering the sensation of being thrown. Something told her she'd be feeling that for a while. Good thing hybrids were stronger than a normal human.

”I can tell.” the Aquamarine looked at her with concern. ”Can you still fly?”

“Pretty sure I can. We can fly there in a minute.” she replied, then looked around for someone in particular. ”Dr. Marine, where’s my dad?”

“I visited him today to drop off his medication.” she told her, checking something off of the clipboard. “He couldn’t make it due to his condition. You know how it is.”

“Right.” Diana looked down, a bit disappointed. “He is getting old after all.” Jamie had seen better years. Now an old man, there were many things he could no longer do, having retired from both his job of being a mailman and his passion for acting. Luckily, Diana had taken after him. But she knew that his time was limited and he was fading away.

“Diana!” another voice shouted. She saw Peridot running towards her, leaping into a hug. “See, I knew you’d be okay!”

“Ooh! Careful!” Diana exclaimed, her body still a bit sore from the fight.

”Sorry, sorry.” Peridot moved back a little. ”I was so worried when I was told you didn’t make it, so I went and scanned the route area to look for any stray planetoids you might have ended up on!” she explained. “And my calculations were correct! Welcome home, Di.”

Diana smiled. Classic Peridot. ”Is everything okay at home?”

“Of course, Jamie, Emile, and Judy are going to be so relieved!” the green Gem exclaimed. “Putzie kept asking when you were coming back.”

“They did?”

“You should have seen it! But we’re all glad you’re back, you know?” Peridot assured her. Diana felt the same, she had really missed everyone and was just eager to see them.

”Peridot’s right.” Dr. Marine added. ”But first, we need to get you to the hospital.”

---

“Do ya really gotta get going so soon?” Betty asked. “The fam’s eager to meet you.”

“Unfortunately.” Harry explained, rubbing the back of his neck. “He’s on a tight schedule.”

“You’d think he’d be more happy to see you, at the very least.” Betty put her hands on her hips, slightly annoyed. Not at Harry, but his father.

“You don’t know my dad.” he told her. “He does care about me, he’s just awful at showing it.”

“I guess so.” she replied. “Do you have my number?”

“Not yet.” he realized. ”What is it?”

“Let me put it in for you.”

He handed her his phone and she began entering her number. “We really should hang out.” Harry told her. ”I could show you the city.”

“I’ve already been to a city, just not yours. Besides, you gotta come to my place, first.” Betty told him, giving his phone back. “We’ll show you how to have some real fun!”

“Oh yeah?” he teased. Just then, Betty snuck a kiss on his cheek.

“Yeah.” she giggled as he blushed. ”Gotcha, city boy.” For the first time ever, she said it as an endearing term. They pulled into one more hug before parting.

---

Somewhere in Beach City, a Pearl leaned against a white fence in front of her light indigo house. She wore a dark purple dress that stopped below her knees and black kitten heels. Her medium length hair, a slightly different shade of violet, flipped at the end, and her appearance was amplified by her black choker and loose bracelet. Her medium purple pearl was out of sight, just behind her upper back.

There was an air of pride around her, as if she was secretly showing herself off should anyone had been around. Looking at the sunset, she smiled. Her lavender skin almost shining against the sunlight.

However, her thoughts were cut short when she saw another Pearl walking towards her.

This one seemed to appear to be the opposite of her. She had short, curly black hair that seemed to be a tad bit messy. Her baggy clothes and lack of shoes contrasted against her neat outfit, and her faded black skin seemed to be covered in ash. Atop her forehead was a proudly placed black pearl.

Despite being polar opposites, they were happy to see each other.

“Hey, Charcoal.” the purple Pearl greeted, revealing her smooth voice. “Catch anything on fire today?”

“No, Candy. I haven’t.” she said, almost disappointed. Her voice was a bit husky. “Been tryna convince Goldie to let me be exempt from the firework ban.”

“She has a point, you know.” Candy reminded her. "Remember the noise complaints?"

“Hey, a Pearl’s gotta get her fix.” the black Pearl defended, leaning against the same fence.

"Thank the stars there's no rule against sex."

Charcoal rolled her eyes. “Anyway, we’re getting new neighbors. A bunch of new Pearls.”

”Nice.” Candy replied, filing her nails. ”I’ve been really bored here with the house next to me empty. Hope they’re cute.”

”I heard one of them’s a hybrid. And another’s new to Earth. Imagine that.” she said as she took out what appeared to be a box of cigarettes, clearly old fashioned for this day and age. It's not like she cared, though.

”We’ve all been new to Earth at some point.” Candy stopped filing her nails and pulled out a compact mirror, admiring her reflection.

”True.” Charcoal mused.

”I just hope the other Pearls aren’t too hard on them. I mean, a hybrid and a newbie?”

”You know Ocean’s probably gonna pull some shit.” she told her, lighting a cigarette and putting it in her mouth. She blew a cloud of smoke. “She always does.”

“I think I’d better warn them about her.” Candy closed the compact mirror and put it away.

“She definitely will if she sees them hanging with you.” Charcoal pointed out.

“Oh bother!” she responded. “She’s the one who oughta keep her nose out of people’s business.” She knew firsthand how one nosey Pearl can ruin one’s reputation, and the last thing she wanted was for someone else to deal with the same problem. “I should still make sure they settle in alright.”

“That sounds nice.” Charcoal responded. “Let me know when they get here, I want to give them a welcoming gift.”

“Let me guess,” the purple Pearl paused. “Lighters?”

“You know me too well, Can.” she chuckled. It was quiet for a moment. A bunch of seagulls flew by, paying no attention to the two.

Candy interrupted the silence. “But they don’t, and that’s what’s great about meeting new people, don’t you think?”

“Couldn’t agree more.” Charcoal yawned, taking another drag of her cigarette.

The two looked on for a moment and wondered about what would happen next. Things had become a bit too quiet lately, it was almost a bit nerve wracking. Maybe some new neighbors was exactly what Candy, and the rest of Pearl Row, needed.

[missblanchette]

Rumor Has It [6/10]

Series: Hypnosis Mic

Characters: Izanami Hifumi/Yumeno Gentaro; Minor Jinguji Jakurai/Kannonzaka Doppo

Rating: T

Summary: Thousands of hearts broke that day. With tears shed and cries resounding to the heavens, each grief-stricken woman wondered how this could possibly happen. In the year 20XX of the H. Era, Matenrou’s MC GIGOLO and Fling Posse’s MC Phantom were officially in a relationship.

Except they weren’t, actually.

Notes: The first part kiiinda reads like a chat fic LMAO I tried to make the images as small as possible while still being readable, but there’s a link to the high res of the chats if you click on the day of the week!

Words: 3,470 + a looot of text messages lol

ko-fi // Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | You can read this on AO3! Thank you for reading~! Hope you guys enjoy~! ( ﾟ▽ﾟ)/

Ch. 6: Head Over Heels

tuesday

wednesday

thursday

friday

saturday

"Er, Hifumi? A little help here?" Doppo said, juggling two bowls of curry udon in his hands.

"Gimme o~ne sec, Doppo-chin," singsonged Hifumi as he snapped pictures of the food. Three weeks wasn't that long in retrospect, but it felt like three decades since he was able to cook anything saucier than omurice. Sure, he couldn't do it all on his own, but with some (read: a lot of) direction, Doppo could whip something up. At the very least, it actually looked like udon and not a glob of goo like that time Doppo heated up cup noodles.

"What are you doing?"

"Sending pics to Yumenon." Hifumi hummed as he scrolled through his camera roll, unsure of which ones to send. They all looked good so he sent every single one. "I told him we were cooking, so I wanted to show him what a great job you did. Oh, I should show Doc, too!"

Hands too busy to hide his face, Doppo looked away. "It's not that great..."

"Of course it is!" Texts sent, Hifumi pocketed his phone and grabbed a bowl from Doppo. Skipping over to the dining room, the savory scent of the broth wafted throughout. "Ooh, smells yummy~"

"I just did what you told me to." Putting down the rest of the food, Doppo busied himself with setting up the table.

"And you're the one who did the actual cooking. It looks great, so be proud of yourself!"

Flopping into his seat, Doppo sighed. "Well, it doesn't matter if it doesn't taste great."

"Aw, c'mon, it's not like you burnt anything this time," Hifumi said, shoving him playfully. "I'm sure it's, like, edible."

Doppo grunted ("Whatever you say" in Dopponese), but he eyed the food nonetheless. Smiling, Hifumi plopped into his seat and clapped his hands together.

"Let's eat, then?"

Doppo followed suit. "Let's eat."

Not wasting a second, Hifumi grabbed his chopsticks and slurped up some udon. The richness of the curry and the mild sweetness hitting his tongue, his eyes widened and he melted into the flavor.

"Oh my God, Doppo-chin, this is good!"

Rubbing the back of his neck, Doppo looked down at his bowl. He hadn't touched his food yet. "You mean that?"

"Why wouldn't I? Like, okay, maybe the noodles are a little too soft and maybe it's kinda salty, but It’s so savory and rich! I gotta let Doc know!"

"You don't have to, it's not that big of a deal --"

"It totally is, it's your first not-crappy meal! Doc's gonna be so impressed~" Faster than Doppo could blink, Hifumi shot Matenrou's group chat with nothing but stickers and cheers for his food. He gasped then, seeing the next name on his contacts. "I'll let Yumenon know, too."

"Yumeno-san, huh..." Brow creasing, Doppo took a bite of his food. "You've been talking to him a lot recently."

All his focus on LINE, Hifumi nodded. "Yeah! He's pretty fun to talk to, actually."

"That's nice..." Trailing off, Doppo tapped his chopsticks against the edge of his bowl in a steady rhythm. "Hey, Jinguji-san and I are planning on going out tomorrow, and we wanted to know if you wanted to come? I know it's tiring staying home all day."

Hifumi's head snapped up. "Boy, do I! Where are we going? Fishing?"

"No fishing for you yet --" Hifumi pouted, to which Doppo huffed out a laugh. "-- but we're going out for lunch."

"Ooh, where? Can we get Italian?"

"Italian sounds good.”

"Yay! How 'bout after? Are we doing anything?"

"We didn't have anything in mind, but we can do something if you want to."

"Why don't we go to Sakuragaoka-cho Street?"

"Sakuragaoka-cho...?" The tapping quickened. "Isn't that in Shibuya?"

"Yep."

"I don't know, Hifumi..."

"Awww, c'mon, Doppo-chin." He took Doppo's hand from across the table and bounced it up and down, putting an end to the tapping. "I think you'll like it there. It's like really pretty and quiet and there's tons of cafes along the street, so you can relax a little! Doc, too."

Lips pursing, Doppo gave him a once over. If he had anything to say, he didn't and welp, that was Doppo for you. Instead, he sighed that sigh of his -- the light, relenting one rather than the heavy, exasperated one. Small as it was, he smiled.

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

"We'll see," he said, his grip on Hifumi's hand tightening.

The next morning, Hifumi woke up bright and early for the day that awaited him; his excitement made more palpable when he saw he had a text from Gentaro.

Heart leaping, Hifumi replied immediately.

Though he was far from impatient, never had waiting for a text felt so long. Tick, tick, tick, the seconds ticked by and --

His shoulders sagged, lips curling down as he read Gentaro's message. But as he began typing a reply, his phone pinged.

Perking up, he grinned.

With that, Hifumi hopped out of bed. Today was already looking to be good, but now it had to be great -- no, amazing! He was going to have fun for two, after all.

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

It was a once in a blue moon occasion that he was able to hang out with Doppo, let alone him and Jakurai at once. A shame this time was because of his medical leave, but. Whatever. The reason wasn't important. As promised, Doppo and Jakurai took him out for Italian -- the real, fancy kind, much to his delight. What wasn't so delightful, though, was how they paid for his food despite his protests. No matter! He'd just have to get back at them by cooking a super yummy meal the next time they were all able to get together.

Again, he lost two-against-one when deciding what to do after lunch -- or more like Jakurai suggested somewhere else and Doppo went "Anywhere is fine with me, but..." which pretty much meant "Yeah, let's go with Jinguji-san's idea" -- but he couldn't deny that Shinjuku Gyoen was a nice place. What really mattered to him, anyways, was that he was there with Doppo and Jakurai. With an arm linked with each of theirs, even he could appreciate the calm and quiet of the park. How couldn't he, when Doppo’s blood vessels weren’t on the verge of popping for once and Jakurai, too, wasn't tense with stress. Speaking of which...

A grin growing on his face, Hifumi dropped his hands to grab onto Doppo's and Jakurai's. He swung their hands about in an arc once, twice, three times before hopping back from his place in the middle and clasping their hands together.

Pausing, Doppo narrowed his eyes at him. The blush coloring his cheeks didn't help him much, though.

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing~"

"Hifumi." Despite his glare, Doppo hadn't let go of Jakurai's hand.

"What?" he said, waving him off. "You guys are a couple, so you gotta act like one!"

Doppo heaved a sigh, the exasperated one. "My coworkers already ask me enough about you and Yumeno-san, I don't need them hounding me about Jinguji-san either."

"Actually, Doppo-kun --" Jakurai cut in before Hifumi could speak again. Holding Doppo's hand to his chest, a light pink dusted his cheeks in spite of the calm expression he wore. "-- there aren't too many people out here, so perhaps it wouldn't hurt to indulge in Hifumi-kun for now?"

Stuttering, Doppo's face reddened. "W-Well, I guess not..."

More than happy to play cupid, Hifumi wrapped his arms around them and pushed them forward with a laugh. They chattered on about life and the like as they continued strolling through the park, Hifumi more than eager to listen to Doppo's and Jakurai's work stories since home wasn't exactly the most exciting place. All the while, the wind swept by and sent the sakura petals flying in their direction.

"Maybe we should make you a flower crown, Doc." Hifumi giggled, picking off the petals that'd gotten caught in Jakurai's hair. From his palms, the breeze carried the petals away and they drifted into the sky; counting them off one by one, the scene reminded him of another outing that took place a while ago. "Y'know, this is kinda like when I went out with Yumenon the other day!"

"'Yumenon'?" Jakurai asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Ah, he means Yumeno-san."

"Yeppers! I dropped by Shibuya last week and ran into him."

Jakurai let out a low hum. "I wasn’t aware you two were that close."

"Yeah, we started talking lots after the the whole stabbing incident. Look, see." Pulling out his phone, he opened up his LINE chat with Gentaro and shoved it into Jakurai's face. "Hey, we should take a selfie! Let him know what we're up to."

"Perhaps later, Hifumi-kun." Jakurai's lips tugged up, the smile not quite reaching his eyes. He took a cursory glance at the screen before gently nudging Hifumi's hand away. "While I'm glad you're making friends, I advise you to be cautious around Yumeno-kun."

Hifumi’s steps slowed down, his brows furrowing. "What? Why?"

"Yumeno-kun is a member of Fling Posse, yes?" Blue irises clouding over, Jakurai brought their stroll to a stop. "Then certainly he has agreed to Amemura-kun's terms and Amemura-kun is... not the most trustworthy person out there."

Hifumi pouted. "Aw, Dr. Jakurai..."

"It's weird, though, isn't it?" Doppo piped up. Biting his lip, his gaze shifted from the ground to Hifumi. "That he came to our apartment when he shouldn't have known where we lived? And didn't you say he called you before this whole thing happened? That seems kind of suspicious to me..."

Pout turned frown, Hifumi started shaking Doppo's arm. "I mean... yeah, but...!"

Jakurai placed a hand on Hifumi’s shoulder, calming him down a bit.

"I do not wish to jump to conclusions, but Doppo-kun has a point. All of this seems rather sudden, so I think it would be wise to keep your guard up."

"You guys make it sound like he's some kinda bad guy..."

"Maybe he's not as good as he seems," Doppo said, barely audible.

"Nope!" Hifumi slapped his hands over his ears. "Don't wanna hear it!"

"Hifumi --"

"You guys are taking this waaay too seriously."

Taking a step back, Hifumi met Doppo's gaze, then Jakurai's. He'd seen those wary looks in their eyes before -- too many times to count from Doppo, always there to keep him from jumping headfirst into things; from Jakurai, whenever his past got brought up, regardless of how many reassurances he gave. Usually he could appreciate their levelheadedness, but accusing a friend was different than getting into trouble. Especially when they didn't know him like he did.

"There's no way Yumenon's a bad guy... Like, have you read his books? Or even seen the work he puts into them?" He continued, his hands clenching at his sides and his nails digging into his skin. A book filled with notes and dreams came to mind, fantastical stories woven about people passing by; the look on Gentaro’s face as he covered every detail and spun each tale one of pure joy. "He puts so much care and effort into what he does! And the stories themselves, there's so much emotion in them. There's a lonely kinda feel to them, but there's always a happy ending -- like, there's always hope no matter what!"

He paused, trying to make sense of Doppo and Jakurai's reactions. Nothing, except for silence and stares. They listened -- they always listened -- but he needed them to understand as well.

"When you write something like that, I can't believe someone like him could be bad..." Softly, Hifumi said, "I don't wanna believe someone like him could be bad."

Far and few between was it that his voice dipped so quietly, but he’d dropped to a whisper once he'd finished. Unfurling his fingers, he hadn't realized how hard he'd been clenching his hands until the cuts left behind began to sting. His words hanging in the air, the only thing keeping the silence from falling over was the pounding of his heart in his ears.

For better or for worse, Jakurai was always a pillar of calmness and now was no exception; his eyes holding no hint of either acceptance or rejection. Meanwhile, Doppo looked to Jakurai hesitantly -- a sign that he had an answer but was unsure of himself. Jakurai met his gaze and after a moment, they shared a nod.

Jakurai's lips tugged up first, the smile lifting a weight off Hifumi’s chest. "If that's what you believe, Hifumi-kun, then I will have to put my faith in your judgement."

"I guess, but..." Doppo glanced around before looking back at him, worry etched onto his face. "If he does anything to you, you have to tell us, okay?"

"'Course, Doppo-chin." He beamed, taking Doppo's hand and squeezing it. "But like I said, you don't gotta worry about a thing; Yumenon's a good guy through and through!"

Doppo's frown deepened. "If you say so..."

"Hey, now, no frowning! We're out here for fun, aren't we?" he said and tugged the corners of Doppo's lips up. Mood brightening, he spotted a food cart over to the side of the park. "Look, they're selling takoyaki. C'mon!"

Grabbing Jakurai’s hand, Hifumi ran off with the two of them stumbling behind.

"Hifumi, your injury!"

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

As all fun days did, their outing ended much too soon, but he and Jakurai of all people knew that Doppo's social battery only lasted so long. With the sun steadily setting, they parted ways with Jakurai at the train station. Though they invited him to stay over for the night, he couldn't since he had work in the morning. Disappointing as it was, Hifumi didn’t dwell on it and focused on dragging Doppo up to their apartment.

Not bothering to change out of his clothes yet, Doppo crashed face first into the couch. Laughter bubbling up, Hifumi jumped in beside him and Doppo scooched over to make room. Their arms tangled together, Doppo let out a deep sigh -- the last of his energy leaving with that breath. The quiet allowing him to mull over everything that happened today, Hifumi remembered Gentaro's texts from this morning and gasped. Squirming about, he patted his pockets.

"What are you getting all antsy for?" came Doppo's muffled voice.

"I gotta tell Yumenon about our day," he said, pulling out his phone. "I invited him to come, but he said he couldn't so he told me to have fun for him."

Doppo snorted. "Honestly, the way you talk about him makes it sound like you're in love with him."

Finger hovering above Gentaro's name, Hifumi froze.

Love was a funny thing. He loved fishing and he loved cooking, but he also loved Doppo and he loved Jakurai. While he loved all of them equally, they weren't exactly the same kind of love. That was to say, there was a lot to love in the world, and he had a lot to give! Try as he might, though, striking up relationships of any kind wasn't exactly his strong suit. Doppo said it was because he didn't watch what he said, but he always thought it better to say things how they were.

And maybe, yeah, that was where everything went wrong when he first met Gentaro. His clothes were weird and he wasn't afraid to point that out, but Hifumi learned to love that part of him -- just like he learned to love all the other things about him. Subdued as he was, his clothes helped him stand out and made him unique. Sometimes he said one thing and did another, but he knew his heart was always in the right place; he could see it in the way he put his all into his work and treated his posse. Most of all, he found it easy to be around him. Their back-and-forth became natural with their bad blood behind them, something he never realized was missing his whole life. From the pretentious writer to the whimsical storyteller, he'd come to care for him and all that he did.

But even if he could love Gentaro, to be in love seemed a grander thought. For all the love he had and gave, Hifumi had never felt that spark or that flutter of the heart; none of the fireworks nor the giddy excitement. At least, not until Gentaro came along. Not until he’d shared his worlds with him, not until he’d seen the smile on his face as he created stories with passion, not until he’d heard his airy laughter that tinkled in his ears.

Hifumi loved Gentaro. And perhaps, he was in love with him, too.

"You're right," Hifumi said softly.

Picking up his head, Doppo let out a flat "What."

"You're right, Doppo-chin." He shook him, voice growing louder. "I'm in love with Yumenon!"

"No, what, I was -- I was just joking." Doppo grabbed his hand, stopping the shaking. "You've only known him for like a week or two, you can't possibly be in love with him!"

"Well... I wanna be in love with him," he said, because if he wasn't in love with him now, then surely one day he would be. Quality over quantity they said, and so time was but a small factor if the moments they shared meant anything. "I wanna go on dates with him, and hold hands with him, and be with him!"

"You already do that stuff with me and Jinguji-san, what makes him any different?"

"This!" Hifumi pointed to his heart. "I love you and Dr. Jakurai, but... Yumenon makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside."

Doppo squinted. "Do you hear yourself?"

"Loud and clear. I wanna be in love with Yumenon!"

"He's our rival."

"The battle season's over, so it doesn't matter, right?"

"You barely know him."

"Then I'll get to know him better."

"You've seen what's happened already --" Doppo jabbed a finger towards Hifumi’s abdomen. "-- the backlash is going to get worse."

"So what? People can do whatever they wanna do."

"You're... really serious about this, aren't you?"

"Sure am!" Hifumi said with no hesitation. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Cautious eyes running over him, Doppo fell silent. A million thoughts ran through Hifumi's mind, anything and everything to convince him about Gentaro, but he knew Doppo needed quiet to think. All he could do now was clutch onto Doppo's hands as he waited for his response.

"If he makes you happy then..." He took a deep breath, another beat passing. "I guess it's fine."

Breaking into a grin, Hifumi cheered and threw his arms around Doppo. He squeezed him as tightly as he could, rocking him back and forth.

"He does, he makes me really happy! I think you'll like him a lot, too, Doppo-chin!" Before Doppo could reply, he gasped and pulled back from the hug. Unlocking his phone, he continued on, "I should let him know how I feel right now! It'll be really fun, we can like go on double dates and --"

"Wait, wait, wait, slow down there." Doppo held him back. "You're going to confess to him through text ? He won't take you seriously like that."

Lips puckering, Hifumi tilted his head. "Really? Then what should I do?"

Doppo's mouth hung open as if to speak, but he stared blankly at him.

"Sorry, I don't really know..." Face scrunching up, his tongue poked out in thought. "Take him out or something? Do something meaningful, I guess."

"Meaningful, meaningful, meaningful..." He mulled over the suggestion, bobbing his head slowly. Doppo had a point, now that he thought about it; their short time together meant they didn't have as many moments with each other -- even less were those that were actually good. Still, one memory in particular stood out: an impromptu day out filled with flowers and fantasies.

"Oh, I know! I'll take him out and get him roses and make it super duper romantic~"

"That... sounds nice, yeah." Doppo nodded, a small smile on his lips. "Good luck, Hifumi. I hope it works out."

He patted his shoulder and flashed a V-sign. "No need to hope, it'll work out for sure! Just you see, Doppo-chin."

Heart flying over the moon, Hifumi turned his attention to his phone screen. Gentaro's name stared back at him, and he grew giddy with all the things he wanted to say to him: “You’re so pretty!” and “You’re amazing!!” and “I love you!!!” among other things right at the tip of his fingers. It took everything in him to keep all of it to himself, but he knew they could say everything they wanted to say once he confessed. The perfect plan in mind, Hifumi wasted no time opening up his chat with Gentaro.

[forkanna]

[AO3 LINK] [EF LINK]

NOTE:  Welcome to the future! We thought today was a good day to provide a much sooner update for our McFly girls (even if you won't see much of Elsa this chapter). Enjoy some plot and self-reflection!

The drive to Doc Pabbie's house was quiet. Anna was made to pull out a gigantic book of maps – "It's an atlas, Vic- Tori. Gosh. How tiny is your town?" "Heh… yeah…" – to navigate the streets. It wasn't until they arrived at the Doc's surprisingly normal-looking house – much nicer than the little shack he holed up in by the time 2015 came around – that either said anything of actual substance.

Anna had opened the door, hand coming to unclip the belt, when Elsa's fingers touched the backs of hers. "Will… will I see you at school?" she asked, looking at once very small and vulnerable.

Anna swallowed. What could she say? Blinking, she tried to urge the tears away. Tonight had been… well, eye-opening. But she had no intention of staying longer than necessary. She didn't belong in this time.

So instead, she offered a little shrug. "I'll uh, I'll see what Doc can do about maybe enrolling me. I don't think I'll be around long enough for that, but maybe…"

"I see…" There was a valiant effort at hiding her disappointment as her mother nodded. "Thank you for hanging out with me for a while," she began softly. "Hopefully you and your mom can sort all that out. I mean, at least you had the courage to tell her. My parents…" She shook her head, and didn't continue.

"Y-yeah… I- same. They know but they don't love it. But, I guess… knowing you don't hate me is nice. It's almost the same, heh." She gave one last smile before throwing herself from the car, not giving Elsa a chance to respond to her cryptic words.

However, there was one little hitch Anna hadn't anticipated. When she got to the top of the walk and knocked on Doc's door, she glanced back to see Elsa waiting. Making sure she got inside safe and sound. Ordinarily, the gesture would be touching, but right now it was inconvenient. How was she supposed to get Doc to let her in so she could explain?

As it turned out, that didn't seem to be a problem. The man opened the door… and displayed himself to be wearing a glowing contraption on his head that made him look like an extra in a low-budget sci-fi flick. Immediately, he grasped Anna's shoulder.

"Don't say a word!"

"Uh, I-"

And then she was being jerked inside.

                                                ~ o ~

It took the better part of an hour for Anna to get Doc to listen to her. First, because he was trying to read her thoughts through a suction cup and focused completely on the task at hand, and then because he flat out didn't believe her. No matter what she said, no matter what she showed him from her wallet – her driver's license, social security card, student ID, family photo from the Grand Canyon – he didn't seem to buy it.

Until she finally saw the bandage on his forehead. "Hey, where'd you get that?"

"None of your business," he grumbled, trying to steer her toward the front door. She was still trying to get over how much blonder his hair was, how young his skin looked. "Now then, Future Girl, if you're through spinning tall tales, I need to get back to a few of my experiments. But thank you for a night's entertainment!"

"You don't have to tell me. I already know." The progression came back to her, and she held up a finger and pointed it straight at his face. "You were hanging a clock in your bathroom, standing on the toilet, and you slipped and hit your head on the sink. And while you were unconscious, you had a dream about the flux capacitor! Which… is what makes… time…"

Her voice faded away as she realised he was goggling at her in shock, already-large eyes looming even larger above her own. The man took a few stumbling steps backwards. For just a second, she worried she had somehow made him angry – until he spoke.

"It… worked? HaHA, IT WORKED!" And then he was completely ignoring Anna, dancing a cheery little jig on the spot with his fists in the air. "An invention of mine worked! Oh, thank the heavens! They told me it would never happen – 'crackpot' indeed!"

"Uh, Doc?" But no, he was too far gone. He seemed barely aware that there was anyone else in the room with him. That is, until she came up and tapped him on the shoulder. "Doc!"

He didn't stop, as such. He just seemed to freeze, waiting for her to continue. With a weary sigh, she slumped.

"This is amazing for you and all, but I just… want to go home. And I don't know what to do; the car's not working, and… and I'm stuck here."

A little at a time, the excitement began to fade – or rather, it was still there but simmering under the surface of compassion and professional interest. "Hmm, I can understand that. As far as years go, 1985 isn't the most exciting thus far. Oh, how are Reagan's policies holding up in the future? Wait, no, don't tell me! Anyway, yes, yes, I owe it to my future self to make sure he finishes the experiment. I assume you need some more gasoline? Or have they figured out perpetual motion by then, the unified field theory? Cold fusion?"

Chuckling to himself, he looked at Anna expectantly. Looking away, she mumbled something under her breath.

"I'm sorry, dear, didn't catch that."

"We're gonna need some, uh… plutonium…"

His eyebrows raised up toward his much-lower hairline. "Really? Well, I'm afraid that what's left of my family fortune won't pay for THAT. Though by the 2000s, I'm sure you can find plutonium at any corner drugstore."

"Not… exactly." Then she cleared her throat. "Anyway, I, um… I think something's wrong with the starter. I parked it in a garage in an empty house; it's supposed to be MY house but nobody lives there. So maybe we can just stick a new starter in it, and we'll be good? Maybe there's some plutonium left in the back? I dunno…"

"Over in Aren Estates, or Hilldale?" He wasn't paying close attention, but at least he was following along, pacing up and down. "Yes… that's safe enough for the time being. We'll wait until after midnight and then drive over there to haul it back here with my van and I can examine the problem firsthand."

"Aren Estates. Doc, this isn't just some experiment; I'm really worried about this. This is my whole life we're talking about!"

"Well, first thing's first; we get the time machine safely tucked away in my garage. Then we can see if there's an alternate fuel method to replace…" Again, he shook his head and laughed weakly, beside himself. "Plutonium. It's so gloriously simple; a nuclear reaction would definitely generate plenty of power, if it could be adequately contained. Now we just have to figure out how much is needed."

Sitting a little straighter, she said, "Oh, that'll be easy. Doc – er, my Doc – made me record the experiment so we have footage. Though, I'm not sure how we'll get an SD card to work with your… older equipment."

At that, his eyes lit up, and the reason was obvious. Anna would love a chance to see future-technology, so she could only imagine how an actual scientist felt. Still, it wasn't really going to be as exciting as he probably hoped it was.

"This is indeed a rare treat! Now the only thing to do is repair your vehicle and send you back. I'm just glad something of mine worked, to be quite honest," he said. The self-deprecation was evident, and Anna's heart went out to him. Having so many unfounded theories and being known for it throughout the entire town was probably lonely.

"Yeah, Doc, I get you. How about I run into town tomorrow and get us a cake or something? Like, we should be celebrating a successful test, right? Even if I'm still stuck in-"

"Oh no! No, no, no, my dear girl. You can't set a toe outside this house! It's a good thing you came straight here. If you had spoken to anyone, you may have accidentally altered the course of history. Your future! Even speaking to me isn't without its pitfalls, but I understand it's unavoidable…"

Anna froze. Doc didn't notice for a moment. He was still waffling on about butterflies this and chaos that, but when Anna ceased to engage, he finally noticed and slowly turned to her.

"You… did come straight here, right?"

"Well… sorta?" When Doc didn't say anything, and the silence grew too heavy, she swallowed and pressed on. "I was going to – I went to your house, the one you live in in 2015, but you weren't there. Someone else was. S-so, um, that's one person. Then I went to a café and looked you up in the people direc- phone book. But then, er… things happened?" He stared more, knowing she wasn't finished, and her head dipped a little lower. "Long story short, I talked to my dad and the mayor, then I was hit by a car and woke up next to… my mom…"

"Your MOTHER?!" Doc exclaimed this in the same tone of voice as most people would say 'You've been SHOT?!', and Anna winced at the sharpness the volume. After a moment of shock in his face, he finally shook himself and stumbled over to grasped her shoulders. "And your father?"

"Hey, it's not like they knew it was me! Mom thinks my name's Victoria, for fuck's sake!"

"Let me see that photograph – the one in your wallet." Anna wasted no time whipping it out and looking down at the familiar faces of herself, Wendy, and- "AHA!"

"Wait a minute… John's head is gone. What the…?"

"Just as I thought," Doc breathed. His gaze was now distant, his voice hallowed with fear. "Erased from existence. You have altered the course of history; your mother either will never meet your father, or it may be something as simple as a few minutes' delay. The tiniest of divergences in the timeline could be enough to prevent them from ever marrying, falling in love, and conceiving you and your siblings."

"Conceiving me and my- wait, Doc. Are you trying to tell me…" Thinking this deep wasn't Anna's strong suit, but she did her best. "Did I stop myself from ever being born?!"

"In a word – YES!"

Suddenly, the implications weighed down on Anna with the force of a dump truck. "Whoa… this is heavy."

"Well, on the upside, you seem to be adapting to era-appropriate lingo," he muttered, still examining the photo. "What did you do?" He finally turned to look at her. "It's astounding that you could influence so much in so little time. The speed with which the impact on your future has occurred is mind-boggling! If you weren't in danger, I would find it fascinating that it appears to be a rippling effect rather than instantaneous alteration…"

Well, there was no denying it. Pretty soon Anna herself would be erased from existence, too, so it was time to lay all her cards on the table.

"CliffsNotes version: I saved my dad from being hit by Grandpa Baines's car, and instead it hit me. When I woke up my mother was there, uh… kinda sorta… hitting on me? Tried to tell her I already have a girlfriend but it didn't do any good. Oh – and she thinks you're my uncle, by the way, that's my cover."

"She also thinks you're available, from the sounds of it," Pabbie groused. "But how would such a brief meeting with you alter history? Soon you'll just be a faded memory – or you should have been! There must be something else about this that prevents her from creating offspring with your father."

Her father. Oh God. Suddenly the entire evening made sense. This hadn't been any old car accident, it had been The Accident. With capital letters! Sinking low into a chair, Anna had to clear her throat several times in order to speak. By the time she did, Doc was sitting on the coffee table across from her, eyes wide and waiting.

"So like, Mom always tells us the story of how she and my dad met. It was mostly supposed to encourage me not to date since like, 'fate finds a way' or whatever. She thought true love happened like 'that', y'know?" She clicked her fingers. When she looked up at Doc, there was a fierce edge in her eyes. "Grandpa hit me today. Mom put me in her bed, not my dad. She probably doesn't even know who he is…" And now, with her stupid meddling… would Elsa even be interested in Kristoff? It certainly didn't seem like it.

"This is very unfortunate. If she is fixated on you in the same manner in which she was fixated on your father because of the incident with the car, there may be no way to reverse this disaster."

Anna squinted at him for a brief moment. "Um… I gotta say, I'm surprised you're taking it so well that my own mother is trying to bang me. Also, that we're both girls. Also, time travel." Although, it was starting to make sense. It was obvious that Grandma and Grandpa Baines disapproved of "alternate lifestyles", so the younger version of her mother would probably jump at the chance to "fall" for a boy.

Convince herself it was a phase. Where had she heard that before?

Doc's hand waved back and forth as he began pacing again. "Oh, homosexuality has been a facet of human culture ever since humanity existed. Haven't you ever read up on Ancient Greece, or Rome? Really nothing new under the sun, Future Girl."

"I suck at history." But now she thought maybe she should look into that. Something about scientific observation of homosexuality in a variety of animal species flickered in the back of Anna's mind, which would probably also help explain his nonchalance. Shaking her head to rid it of the stray thoughts fluttering around inside, she then said, "A-alright. Um… so what should we do? There has to be some way we can at least try to get them back together!"

"We'll have to observe them. Figure out a time and place that we could interfere again; normally, I would refuse to do that, but with the damage to the timeline already so severe, and your life at stake…" Sighing, he glanced at her briefly. "You seem like a nice young girl, but the consequences are far more dire than simply your life. Failing to rectify your mistake, or doing so in a way that only made everything worse, would create a time paradox."

"Pair of what?"

"How can I put this in terms an average high school student would understand?" He muttered to himself for a moment, ticking off numbers on his fingers. Then he turned and pointed at her chest, eyes wide with the hope that he had adequately translated from Doc to Anna in his head. "If you aren't born, and therefore aren't alive to assist me with my time experiment in 2015, then you can't come back to this point in time, and undo your own birth. That's impossible. Since it's impossible, time itself will cease to exist; it will cause a chain reaction that will most likely destroy the very fabric of the entire universe."

"I… I could have done all that by going to get a goddamn milkshake with my mom?!"

"Precisely!"

"I…" Groaning, she buried her face in her hands. "Why me?"

"Why you, indeed. In any case, our objective is now clear: we have to get your parents together before we send you back, and we need to figure out how best to do that without causing further divergence from the prime timeline."

"Diverwha?"

"Making a bigger mess."

"Okay, when you put it like that, it doesn't seem so bad. Not easy, but not the worst; I can just introduce them. 'Haaaave you met Kristoff?'"

Pabbie snorted, shaking his head. "My dear girl. No, it wouldn't usually be that hard, however we're on a schedule. Did your mother ever mention a moment where she knew she was infatuated? Did your father propose at a particular time, or did they do er, something to cement their feelings of love? Perhaps they were tracking when your mother was ovulating so their love-making would stand the greatest chance of-"

Letting out a horrified gag, Anna cried, "Eww, ewwwww, Doc! You think I wanna think about my mom's ovulation?!"

Still, the thought was less horrifying than it would have been a year ago. Here she had actual proof that her parents weren't always old and gross. That they were her age and did usual teenage things like getting milkshakes with their crush – and had needs and they did things to sate said needs. A soft warmth began to build just below her navel as she thought about that thirsty look in her mother's eyes…

God. No more of that, ever, if possible. Sucking in a breath, Anna forced herself to focus.

"There was a… a thing. They kissed for the first time at it or something. I don't remember the name, though… man, I must have heard the story a million times. Why can't I remember right now?"

"That's quite all right. Chances are, it's months away; just try to think about it a little each day and I'm sure it will come back to you, or you'll notice something that jogs your memory. The reason your brother began disappearing so fast is just that you tossed the first big boulder into the stream; it's not a full and complete beaver dam yet. There must be a chance to fix what you have broken or you would already be gone."

Her stomach seemed to disappear at that thought. In fact, Anna pressed her hands into it to make sure it didn't really disappear.

"Come now, we had better go and find your car before some unwitting realtor does and tries to sell it with the house to boot! And then we'll see what's wrong with it, and make plans to fix your future!"

Throwing up her hands, she turned to follow him to his own garage. "You're the doc, Doc."

                                                ~ o ~

It only took about twenty minutes to get to the model house that would one day be Anna's home. Doc turned off the headlights just before they got there, to draw less undue attention – not that it would make much difference. The place was deserted. They backed the van up to the garage before rigging the DeLorean to be towed behind it.

He was like a kid in a candy store when he saw the machine. Of course, DeLoreans existed in 1985 already, but not ones with time circuits built into the dashboard and flux capacitors in the backseat. Or a small nuclear reactor wired into the engine. Anna smiled, never having remembered seeing him so truly full of glee. He almost seemed upset at having to get back in the van and tow it. Eventually though, they were in Doc's garage with a new problem in front of them.

"Alright," Doc sighed a while later, once they had figured out how to connect the camera to his old TV. The technology was a little too new for him, and a little too old for Anna, but together they figured it out. "This should be fine. Sorry about having to cannibalize that musical device of yours."

"No problem," she sighed, cradling the remains of her iPod. It would either have to be destroyed or taken back to the future with her. "Okay… it should be the third or fourth video file."

"Mmm, 'file' you say? This is a computer chip? Ah – there we are, a visual representation of the data as a picture. What a delightfully intuitive user interface! I had wondered if you all use holograms in the future, but this works."

Doc cycled through them until he found the appropriate video, skipping past other evidence of experiments that he swore he didn't want to know about. Something about 'knowing too much about one's own destiny'. Anna wasn't listening very close. She was barely concentrating at all; she was a little more upset about her poor iPod than she thought she'd be. It had gotten her through some rough nights, at least, and was one of the first things she'd ever bought with her own money.

"GREAT SCOTT!" he cried out suddenly after they had been watching for a few minutes. "ONE POINT TWENTY ONE GIGAWATTS?!"

Falling off her chair at the sudden outburst, Anna blinked up at him as she pushed up onto her elbows. "What the hell is a gigawatt?!"

"It can't be done! I'm sorry, but we're through, we're finished!" Tugging at his own blonde hair, wild as it stood out from his scalp in all directions, he began to pace, then eventually simply left the garage and went back into the main house.

When Anna rejoined him, she saw that he was staring into the gaze of a portrait that hung over his mantle – one of Thomas Edison. "It can't be done, can it, Tom? There's no way! Not without nuclear materials, there's no reasonable facsimile!"

"What, Doc?" she urged him, shaking his shoulder. "What can't be done?"

"This! That! Do you see? Nuclear was the easiest option. And it's nuclear! Unless we can get…" he trailed off, mumbling under his breath for a moment, "eight trillion hamsters, I'm afraid you're out of luck."

"Out of lu- whoa, whoa, wait." Anna's heart more than sunk this time; it shattered. "No, no, Doc. You can't give up now! You- there's gotta be something else, we gotta try!"

"I'm afraid not! It's nuclear or nothing – and I haven't the resources to acquire your precious plutonium! Not without selling this house, and I'm in no position to do that – not to mention it would be highly illegal! How do you think I'm going to fix the time machine if I'm in a federal prison?!"

"But I have a life to get back to! Mom and Dad need me, and…" Did they, though? Never seemed to have before. So she had to think of another motivation for Doc to reunite her with her own time period. Moving closer, she reached into her pocket for the clock tower flyer. "Look, see, I got a girl waiting for me back home." She turned the paper over, showing the phone number with the two little Xs next to them. "I can't– I need to see her again. What'll she do if I just… just vanish and never make it home?"

Doc slumped in a chair, barely giving the paper a glance. "It's impossible. The only other thing of capable of producing the necessary raw power to activate the flux capacitor is… is a bolt of lightning! Unfortunately, you never know where or when one's going to strike! I'll be able to repair the starter, get the automobile running, but without that reaction… you're stuck in the Eighties, Future Girl."

Throwing her hands up, Anna stood and began pacing – maybe she was a little too much like Doc sometimes. She looked down at the sheet of paper, tears beginning to cloud her vision. Even if she managed to get her parents together, she'd still be stuck here in the past. She'd vanish from 2015. Jennifer would never hear from her again. Chances were that no one would even notice aside from her; certainly not her family. Hell, they might even be happy that she was gone.

There were so many other things she would miss out on; so many things she wanted to do, with a very particular person. Actually call her 'girlfriend'. Have a first kiss. And maybe that wouldn't have been a problem if that damned woman from the Preservation Society hadn't interrupted, hadn't all but shoved her goddamned flyer under their noses. But it was too late to worry about-

Her thoughts came grinding to a halt. The flyer. Somehow she had completely forgotten what the stupid thing was for. Eyes widening, she flipped the number around and read over it again, even if she didn't really need the refresher course.

"Doc! DOC! What if we did know when lightning was going to strike?" Running back to him, she shoved it into his hands. "What if we knew the exact time and place? Could that do… I dunno, something?!"

He didn't seem to understand at first, but as he read, his whole face brightened. "Great Scott!" he cried, jumping from his chair.

"Yeah! Scott! I mean, that's good, right?"

"Look out, Miss McFly," he told her with a brand new manic gleam in his eye. "We have some work to do."

                                                To Be Continued…

[solarbird]

The Armourer and the Living Weapon, Chapter 23: against your first and better judgement

I remind everyone - for the final time - that the AO3 archive warnings and tags are there for a reason. Please consider them appropriately before continuing. [View warnings and tags]

As these final chapters form the climax of the story, they will all be placed below cuts for spoiler protection. This does not indicate anything about whether they are worksafe, though some will not be.

This chapter is worksafe. [AO3 link]

Tracer geared up for battle, the last one, the big one, where - all goes well - Doomfist and Reaper both go down. No more double-agent I've-still-been-Blackwatch-all-along lies from Gabriel, no more let's-start-a-war from Akande, no more of... all this madness, none of which could end a moment too soon. She shook out her arms, then flipped out her pistols, which felt so nice in her hands, and flipped them back, perfectly, flawlessly, soothed.

She didn't love the kill, not like Oilliphéist did, and she didn't get the rush from it, like Widowmwaker, but she didn't mind it, either. Particularly not at this point, with so very many kills under her belt. Particularly not here, knowing who, and what, and why.

She smiled to herself, as she thought, Today... we prevent the Second Omnic Crisis.

"You seem cheerful, ma chérie," said Widowmaker, gearing up beside her. Oilliphéist flashed a smile, too, as she checked her rifle.

"Yeah," said Tracer, a bit of calm happiness in her expression, as she flipped her pistols in and out of their holsters. "A few days not bein' poked at makes all the difference in the world. And today, we wrap this up - as long as Moira doesn't bring in some stupid bloody last-minute change of plans, anyway." She grimaced, grunting a small noise of frustration. "I've got used t'her, I guess - but buggery hell, she still annoys me."

Widowmaker laughed, the sound delightful in her ears. "I know, she does. But it is amusing."

"What?" asked Tracer, half-grin all akimber across her face. "Me bein' all irritated makes you giggle? S'that what did it? Didn't even think you could giggle, six months ago..."

The blue assassin smirked. "No. It's that you always say that, and that you don't trust her, or her ideas, ever, and even with what we know, you always end up following her plans against your first judgement. That is funny."

Tracer smirked right back. "I do not."

Oilliphéist shook her head. "You do, though. Every time."

Tracer laughed, and popped her pistols into their holsters again. "Huh, yeah, I guess I..." She stopped. She tilted her head, and blinked, slowly. "I..."

The tangerine-clad assassin looked down, at her hands. They were shaking. They never shook. Not ever. They couldn't. "I..."

"Lena?" asked the Widowmaker, worried, Oilliphéist looking back up as well. "What's wrong?"

"I..." she shuddered, time after time after time flipping through her head, all at once.

Tea? No. ... Huh. A bit light for my tastes, but not bad.

This is a terrible idea. ... but... I guess so.

No. Sick a'bein' prodded. ... Fine. This work?

I'll never trust my quickness again. ... This is, this is wizard.

You call this nothing?! ... I like my eyes, doc. You got a problem with that?

I don't believe you, mate, - somethin' else is goin' on. ... I guess we're in. We're doin' this.

Her hands stopped shaking, and finally, she knew. "Bloody hell," she whispered. "...what have I done?"

"Lena?" Widowmaker stepped over, and took her hands in her own. "Talk to me, cherie?"

"I..." She braced herself, taking a deep breath. "I'm..." She looked up. "Do you love me?"

Widowmaker blinked, golden eyes reflecting her own confusion. "Of course... of course I do, you know that."

She looked over to Oilliphéist. "Do you trust me."

"Implicitly," replied the newer assassin.

Tracer bit her lip, hard. "I... I think I just figured somethin' out. Trust me, today. Follow my lead. And if y'can't follow - then just trust me and stay out of my way. Can you do that?"

"This is not the plan we've already had," her lover said, "is it."

"No. Wrong or right, that's still on. But if I'm right... we'll need to make some changes."

The senior assassin's eyes narrowed, as she considered what that meant, and widened again, as she reached the same conclusion Tracer had reached moments earlier. "...I will follow you."

Oilliphéist's mind ran much along the same path, the once-ginger thinking, Is that it? Is that... of course. Brilliant. "Tracer?" she said, firmly, gesturing to Widowmaker with a nod of her head, "I'm with her - but I'm also with you. Do you understand?"

The teleporter gave her counterpart, a long, desperate look. "...I think I do."

"Don't forget that."

Lena Oxton breathed out a heavy breath, and nodded. "I won't."

-----

"We have to rely on the fact that Lena's memories and base personality - I am now reasonably certain - were not modified. But she is changing, as she adopts to her body's new preferences. The positive reinforcement she is receiving for violence in particular is almost certainly quite strong. How quickly that's reshaping her, we cannot know."

"Even worse," Dr. Zhou pointed out, "they've been unmonitored for five days. Who even knows what O'Deorain has been doing to her - and to Danielle?"

"It is something we must keep in mind," Dr. Ziegler agreed. "But they must be ready to move at any time, and there has been no sign of any of them in Oasis, and my people have been watching O'Deorain's primary facilities quite closely. I doubt there has been opportunity for too much to be done."

"Maybe, maybe not," the Soldier said. "If she wanted to subdue them, haul them off somewhere... her niece managed it just fine before."

"That's the second time you've called Emily O'Deorain's niece," the double-agent in Blackwatch armour said. "What are you talking about?"

"Emily's her niece," Fareeha replied. "They both said so."

Reyes squinted, or, at least, looked like he was, despite the low knit cap. "No, she's not. Moira's an only child. Emily's a war orphan. Her parents were Welsh and English, not Irish."

"Seriously?" Hana waved her hands around in frustration. "Seriously?!" She went head-down on the tabletop, and screamed a little. "Of course she's not."

"Sorry - I'm Talon's chief of security, believe me, I'm sure." He scratched behind his left ear, looking down at the table. "Must be some part of keeping her compliant." He looked back up. "Gardner was," he laughed a little, "difficult to keep on a leash. Brilliant - maybe the best weapons engineer I've ever seen, but... well, we had a dedicated squadron of guards assigned to her. There were reasons."

"Before being transformed?" Winston asked, a little bit incredulously.

"Yep. Two fireteams, on alternating duty. Killed every one of 'em on the way out, too. And her psychologist. And a few other people."

Angela looked to the former Blackwatch commnder. "That... does not fit well with the person I have met."

"I agree," Mei-Ling said. "She is very strange, but she is also very nice."

He shrugged. "She could act like a normal person, when she wanted to - until you set her off. Then you needed a fireteam. Or two."

The doctor gave Reyes a considering look. "We might be able to use the changes to her memory," the doctor said. "If it isn't just an act, and if Emily is truly unaware of the changes. It might provide a wedge..."

"Stop - if she's not Moira's niece, why hasn't Widowmaker said anything?" Amari demanded. "Is she in on it?"

Reyes shrugged. "Amélie's memories got pretty hashed up. Widowmaker makes new memories reasonably well, but..." he tapped the tabletop with his fingers. "It's not hard to put one over on her if it involves the past. She just doesn't care."

"I see," Morrison said. "We haven't understood anything that's been going on this entire time, have we?"

"No," said Dr. Zhou, sadly. "We have not"

Reyes shook his head, slowly. "Neither have we. She's been outplaying me for months and I never knew."

"Winston, a sensor has been tripped," Athena said, with a chime. "Tracer has activated her Overwatch PADD. It appears to be active somewhere in Edinburgh, Scotland."

She's made a mistake, he thought, as everyone in the room reacted, sitting slightly taller. Or sent up a flare. "Thank you, Athena. Try to pin that down," he replied, before looking over at Reyes, asking, "Where's Ogundimu?"

"Moving between safehouses. I don't know which."

"Gabriel..."

He put his hands up, palms towards the ceiling. "I don't. He's taken over his own security arrangements. Given everything, I don't blame him - I would too."

"Winston," Athena broke in, "Tracer has contacted me by voice, asking that I record a message for you. She requested not to be connected."

"PUT HER ON LIVE, RIGHT NOW! TRACER, CAN YOU HEAR ME?"

Tracer's voice appeared over the conference room speakers. "...follow us, or try to intervene, right? Please? Just let us finish this."

"Tracer, this is Winston, can you hear me?"

"We've got our own plans, for after, once everyone calms down," she continued, not pausing. "Just... stay out of the way. Please. Things are strange, I'd explain, but we're in a rush, but we know, all right? We know."

"Tracer, please, talk to me!"

"Once we've got this sorted - and we will get this sorted - I'll be back in touch. Just... stay clear 'till then. Tracer out."

"Lena, no!"

"Connection broken at her end, Winston. I'm sorry," Athena said, with a hint of regret. "The first part of the message indicates they are moving out for the final phase of the operation."

"Were you able to pin down the PADD's location?"

"Old Town section of Edinburgh, Scotland - near the Royal Mile."

"Of course it is," Hana snorted. "Shoulda known."

"Fine. Athena, please prep the Sparrowhawk for launch." The scientist turned to the rest of the assembled Overwatch. "I'm going to Edinburgh, I'm going to find her, and I'm going to talk Lena into coming home."

Hana shook her head. "She will not come back without Widowmaker and Oilliphéist. She will not split the party. I'm telling you now."

"Maybe not. But if I approach her myself, alone, I'm certain she'll listen to me."

"You are not approaching her alone," Fareeha insisted.

"Lena would never..."

"Oilliphéist would," Morrison interrupted. "And you know it."

Reyes nodded. "Given what she was like before... if she decides you're trying to take Lena away from her? You'll be dead before you know she's there."

"Winston," Athena broke in, again. "I have a keepalive signal from the PADD. It is moving."

"...she didn't cut the battery?" Fareeha said, surprised.

"She is highly stressed," Angela said, "and said she was in a rush..."

"Athena, complete silence to her PADD. Treat it like it's off. If she doesn't notice what she did..."

Hana Song grinned, for the first time in five days. "Then we have a tracker."

Winston grinned back. "Okay! Amari, Ziegler, Morrison - be my backup? And I do mean way back. Hana, we can't take the mech on the Sparrowhawk - stay here, run tactical?"

She frowned. "I'd rather be on site, but..." She thought it over. "Yeah. It'll work."

"I should go, too," Mei-Ling said. "My data is what convinced..." she swallowed, "I convinced everyone to go along with this. I have a duty to her."

"Absolutely not, Doctor," Morrison said. "This could go well - or it could go very badly."

Dr. Ziegler nodded. "Someone needs to shepherd your data through peer review. It's too important - the future of the world literally depends upon it. You must stay here."

"McCree," he tabbed comms. "You've been listening in?"

"Yup," he said, from the observation tower. "Y'want me here on watch?"

"Please. And when Lúcio checks back in, have him get here if he can, as medical backup."

"Can do. Good luck out there."

"Thanks. Hopefully we won't need it."

-----

Reyes ghosted his way down the cliffside, solidifying at the ledge below base grounds, next to his flyer. Sitting at the controls, he punched a long sequence of codes into his comms panel, and a network of relays and anonymising nodes came online.

"Doomfist, Reaper here."

Aboard a stealth flyer somewhere across the world, a large ring on a large hand tapped its wearer, and that wearer tapped back, raising it to his face. "Hello, Reaper. Your update?"

"Overwatch is activated, on our side. They have tracking on Tracer, and they're going to try to pull her out of the game for us. Get out of the UK."

"Where is she?"

"Edinburgh, at the moment. But she's on the move, presumably with O'Deorain and her other toys."

"I am not the sort of man who runs from a fight, Gabriel."

Don't do this now, Reyes thought, tiredly. I need you alive. "We can recover Widowmaker later. Get out of the UK."

"I think not. I am done with this. O'Deorain wants a fight? Fine. If she's on the move, she knows where I am, and I know she is coming. She will get that fight."

"Akande, I am over five hours away," he lied, punching up his flyer's engines and checking tracking on the Sparrowhawk, finding the signal clear and strong. Heh, he smirked, behind his mask. Thank you, Winston. Predictable as always. Please, lead me straight to O'Deorain. To Akande, he said, "At least stay low 'til I get there."

"Do not tell me how to handle myself, Reyes. I cannot lose the respect of the board by backing down." There was a pause, for a moment, Akande presumably considering his options. "But I will take the travel time from Oasis under consideration. Keep me updated on Overwatch. I'll need to know if the teleporter is still involved."

The double-agent cut mic as his rage spiked, closed his eyes, let himself snarl over Ogundimu's bullheadedness, and then, contained it, as he knew he must. "Acknowledged," he said, thumbing his microphone with a smokey hand. "Reaper out."

[solarbird]

Old Soldiers, Chapter 20: you really, really should

I didn't realise I hadn't posted a new chapter since mid-December! Sorry for the late.

This chapter is worksafe. [AO3 link]

«Look, friend, all I'm trying to tell you is that big trouble is coming, and it's aimed straight at your guy. Cut him loose.»

Sombra made a little frustrated noise as Flores didn't answer immediately. He'd been fighting her on Morrison since she first contacted him about it. «Look, Olivia, this isn't...»

«Don't call me that.»

«Sombra, this isn't - you aren't with us anymore. We all know it.»

«But I'm still your friend, friend. Or aren't I?»

He sighed. «No, no, you are... I just... he really, really knows what he's doing. Militarily. We're so much more effective now, we've thrown the Maras completely out of the whole state. The police are starting to think of us as maybe not even so bad.»

«And when he turns on you, like he turned on Laticia and Araceli?»

A moment, and then another moment, silence, over comms. «He didn't... look, we don't know what happened to Araceli...»

«I do. I told you. I've seen it.»

«That - it makes no sense. It's impossible.»

«You want the video? I can see about that.»

«And Laticia, she's turned state's evidence, sold us out to Overwatch! Why shouldn't he...»

«Is that what he says? He's a liar. Well, he was a liar before. Look, have I ever lied to you?»

«Yes!»

«About anything important.»

«...no.»

«And I'm not lying to you now. You heard what Talon did to that Mara cell in El Salvador, right? Do you want that? Because that's what you're going to get.»

She could almost hear him thinking.

«...can you get me that video?»

«I think so. Want to clear it with my source, first. Very delicate, you know? Don't want to alienate them.»

«Sure, sure. Let me know.»

«I will. Sombra out.»

The hacker leaned back in her chair. "Well, how 'bout it? I figure we let him sweat for a day or two, then hand it over."

Lena smiled. "Sounds good. I don't want t' have to tear through Los Muertos to get to that bastard. They're just kids, mostly, and none of this is their fault." She fuzzled Sombra's hair.

"Quit it, rapido! This hair takes time!"

"Make me!" Lena giggled, and, of course, made it worse, as she and the hacker got into a hair-messing competition that the teleporter could only win.

Angela looked on, mildly astonished, from the couch across the room where she sat, surrounded by notebooks. Yesterday's meeting of the minds had run late into the night, followed by a massive exchange of documents in the morning, after breakfast and some more personal catching up with Amélie.

She looked around, again, a little overwhelmed. She'd handed over a data chip, and had not imagined getting stacks of paper to read, in exchange. Dr. Marani wasn't so much old-fashioned in her record-keeping, as prehistoric. It looks like so much more, when it's all physically in front of you, she thought. But it painted a crystalline picture, nonetheless.

A burst of laughter caught her attention, and she looked up. Lena's so relaxed, here, she thought, contemplating what she was seeing. And arguing against killing, rather than reminding us she's an assassin over and over. She gazed intently at the roughhousing Talon agents. It's because... she's just Lena here, isn't she? Not Tracer. Just ... herself, and she doesn't have to insist on anything to remember that. She shook her head, and went back to reading lab reports.

"Agh, you win, stop it!"

"Yeah!" The assassin punched the air. "Venom wins again!"

Sombra got out a hairbrush and began working her hair back into place. "You know, it'd go a long way if he heard it from Laticia himself."

"What, get her sprung, you mean?"

"Something like that. It'd carry a lot of weight."

"Hmf," said the assassin. "Somethin' to consider." She glanced over at the Overwatch doctor. "If we have to. Don't quite want t'be asking favours at the moment. Not 'till we've got everything else sorted out."

"What's Overwatch gonna do with her? They aren't police or courts or anything. They have to hand her over to somebody, eventually - why not us?"

"What would happen to her afterwards?" Angela asked, suddenly.

Lena shrugged. "...let her go, I guess? Back to Los Muertos?"

"With what she'd know, by then? How could that work?" She leaned forward, intently. "You could never let her go. Not with her knowing what she would about Talon, combined with what she does about Overwatch. She'd be a threat." She leaned back, and shook her head. "I cannot risk that."

The assassin frowned. "We wouldn't, but... I get your point, I guess."

"What if we kept her at arm's reach?" suggested the hacker. "Your friend, Gabriel."

Venom grimaced. "He's not really..."

"Fiiiiine, your colleague, whatever. When we decamp to Mexico, he goes too, brings her. We co-ordinate at a distance, he lets her go back to the gang when the job's done."

"That's not bad, luv. Whatcha think, doc?"

Doc, she thought. Well. That's an improvement. "I think... Overwatch could go along with that. Obviously, it is not my final decision, but... I think so."

"It'd help. But... y'seem to have got used to the idea we're gonna finish off Morrison awfully quick."

The doctor leaned forward, face in her hands, elbows on the glass table in front of the couch. "He's my fault," she said, resigned. "At least... partly. And I saw - well, I did not quite see it, but I saw the results when you were tried to bring him in alive." Her hands closed to loosely-held fists, forehead pressed against them, carrying the weight of her head, of her thoughts. "If he is willing to do that to you, or worse, to Mei-Ling... then he is no longer the man I once admired."

"Makes it easier, then?"

"I have always been a field medic, and then a doctor, first. But I have also always been a soldier. Just like him. Just like Fareeha. Just like you. But even with that, I am not on a mission to kill him." She lifted her head, and looked Venom in the eyes. "I am here to do my best to save my mother-in-law. If helping you kill him does that... so be it."

"Wow, this got somber," interjected the hacker. "Where's the fun in that?"

The assassin snickered as Angela frowned, and she swatted at her friend's head. "Right, then! It's late. Go flirt with your girlfriend - didn't you say you'd call her tonight?"

"Ah, she's used to it," Sombra said, nonchalantly - but also packed up her physical kit in one quick swipe.

"You complete reprobate - go call her. Now. She hates it when you're late."

"Don't have to tell me twice. And don't disturb me, we'll probably be verrrry naughty."

"Out!" Lena picked a cushion off one of the chairs and threw it at the Mexican woman as she fled, missing, Angela suspected intentionally.

"So... Lena - may I still call you that? Or is it Venom all the time, here?"

"This is my home, doc. You're at my house. If it's not Lena here, where is it?"

"I think you know what I mean."

Tracer managed a half of a smile. "Yeh. I guess I do." She sighed, retrieved the cushion she'd thrown, put it back on the chair where it belonged, and flumped down on it. "Honestly, I wish you wanted to be here. I'm not in love with you, but... bloody hell, doc. Of all the old crew, you were the one I wanted back. You were... you were the one I trusted. Maybe it was London, maybe it was... I dunno why. I just did."

"I have already made my apologies..."

"I know. I'm not lookin' for another one. I'm just..." She waved her hands around. "I want that trust back."

"But that's not why I'm here."

"No," she admitted, "I guess not."

"So then, Lena - why am I here?"

Lena smirked at the Overwatch doctor. "Helpin' us kill Morrison's not enough?"

"All you need is my field suppression device. I could've handed that to you in Geneva." She didn't pretend it would be any less involvement that way, not to herself - but it didn't require a trip to any secret bases. Or, apparently, homes.

"Fair enough. But with us, you've handy, if things go wrong. And, like you said, maybe y'can help us not have to kill someone else."

"Ana, again."

"Yeh. We take down Morrison, we get any video she might have of that little mistake of yours... she gets to live."

"How would I do that?"

"No idea. That's somethin' for you to figure out with Sombra."

"Lena," she said, leaning forward. "I appreciate that you're trying. But..."

"Again," the assassin stressed. "Trying, again. I hope you get that, luv, 'cause like you just said, last time tryin' it this way got me a hole in my back big enough for Zarya to put her fists through."

"But you would not be trying if you did not have some other reason to bring me here. She'd just be on your kill list. We both know it." She scowled. "Why am I really here? Not my reasons. Yours. You want trust back, between us? Tell me this."

Lena looked around, tapped the surface of the table with one finger, got up, and closed the door.

"All right, then," she said. "Didn't want t'get to this 'till later, but fine." She sat back down. "Remember how you said I didn't look any different, first time y'saw me, back in London?"

The doctor nodded. "You still don't, not really. It's only been a few years, after all - for you."

"Yeh - it's still explainable that way, for me. So far, anyway."

"What is?"

Lena gave Angela a long, thoughtful look. She's not this good a liar, she decided. Not with stuff like this. "Y'really don't know."

"Lena..." the doctor said, confusedly. "Would you please just tell me?"

The Talon assassin bit her lower lip, nodded, and took a deep breath, before continuing. "You're not the only one not gettin' any older, luv."

Dr. Ziegler started, leaning forward. "You're not... Dr. Mariani hasn't talked about work anything like this. If not her, then how...?"

"That's the trick, innit?" She sighed. "We don't know. Somethin' to do with the slipstream, we're pretty sure, but ... no idea what."

"...and Amélie is, isn't she."

"Yep. Nothin' you'd notice yet, particularly not on her - we're both hard to kill, and awfully durable. But... she is."

"I see."

"That time I asked you about Fareeha? Hoped you'd win that argument?"

"You knew, already? About yourself?"

"Sure did."

"That's what you want out of me, really, then, isn't it."

"Yeh," she nodded. "I..." Fear - real fear - flashed across her face. "I... sometimes, when I rewind, I..." She swallowed, hard. "I see things. Other places. Other us. Dunno if it's real, not for sure, but sometimes, sometimes... I see myself... at her grave. It's a hundred years from now, and she's long gone, and I'm still... me. As I am now."

She shuddered, and sniffed a little. Lena reached over, pulling a tissue from her pocket, offering it to her.

"I couldn't take that, doc," she said, taking the tissue. "I won't lose her. I won't. Not to that. Not to anything."

Dr. Ziegler nodded, eyes soft. "That... is something I understand. Fully."

"I still hope y'get it sorted with Fareeha. I like her."

For the second time since arriving at the small Talon base, Angela Ziegler smiled a genuine, broad, reflexive smile. "Then... I have some good news for you."

Lena blinked, and sat up straighter, eyes wide. "She..."

"Yes. Finally."

"And it's worked?"

"As far as I can tell, everything is perfect. Her scars started fading within hours. Not so much that she can see it, yet, but..."

Lena Oxton breathed heavily and deeply. "So ... there's hope. It's not just you anymore."

"No."

"If you can do this for us... t'hell with all of it, luv. I'd forgive you anything. Forever."

"Possibly, literally."

Lena laughed, her old laugh, the kind of laugh that cut straight through to Angela's heart, and the doctor, too, laughed, in kind, so relieved. "I am sorry for what I did, but really, I am not sorry at all," she said, huffing halfway to giggles. "I know what you must have been going through, now, and honesty, it all makes so much more sense..."

"It's been workin' on me, luv, not gonna lie," Lena said, shaking her head, eyes wet, but with a smile. "Maybe... maybe it's made me a little too extra, can't say..."

"Does Amélie know?"

"'Course she does. We don't keep secrets."

"Well. That explains all this," she said, pointing to the stacks of lab notebooks and research notes. "You were so angry that you thought I'd figured you out, then I get here only to have all this thrown at me..."

"In trade. The doc - our doc - has been wanting a colleague for a while."

"Certainly, but still - the dichotomy... well. It is now explained." She shook her head. "My approach will not even have to change. Just the specifics."

"Still killin' Morrison, you know that."

"Don't spoil the moment."

"We don't lie, luv. Not internally. It's somethin' Talon's got over Overwatch."

"...really?"

"Really. It's not just me an Amélie. We are what we are, we don't pretend we're anything else. Secrets, sometimes, sure, y'gotta keep 'em. But not lies."

The doctor let out a little bit of a laugh, a heh sound, almost appreciative. "No wonder you're so... thin, at the upper levels. Well. I suppose there is something to be said for Talon, after all."

"Big step up from the old Overwatch."

"All too true."

"I'll take that as a compliment!" Lena snarked, cheekily.

"You should," the doctor agreed. "You really, really should."

"Oh god, Ange..." She leaned forward, like the doctor had, head in her hands, eyes and smile visible through it. "You'll really do this. You really will."

"If I can."

"Thank you. Oh... I..." She leaned forward, and took Angela's hands, tightly, in her own. "Thank you."