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pufflocks · 4 years ago

Note

Hello again Zen! First I just wanna say that you don’t need to apologize about what happened to the other fic. If you ever feel like you wanna reattempt it, just tell me and I’ll send it again. This request is also smut like the last one and I hope that’s ok!

So Bakugou, known by the public as the pro hero Dynamight, has been having it tough at work the past 2 weeks. He knew that technically it was partly his fault. You see, Bakugou is in a secret relationship with one of Japan’s most mischievous villains. Y/n L/n. (Male Reader) Y/n was in reality not necessarily a villain. He was seen as one, but he had never actually killed anybody. He was more the type to steal, start some fights/trouble and occasionally blow up some place. He was more mischievous than evil. Though Bakugou knew that Y/n wasn’t as bad as everyone thought, and he knew that Y/n did love him. He just had a bit of history.. With that being said: Bakugou had been having it rough lately because his secret boyfriend had been at it like crazy. He also knew that Y/n was intentionally making things difficult for him. So when he was on his patrol and got an emergency signal about trouble just a few blocks away, boy was he ready to hunt Y/n down! Once he saw him he immediately chased him into an alleyway. Y/n had escaped and ran into an abandoned apartment. He thought he was safe. But when he turned around, he wasn’t so lucky. Shit.. Bakugou was ready to completely ravage and take out all of his frustrations on Y/n, as he had him trapped with nowhere to run.

This one could be considered Revenge/Angry S*x. It’s not non-con since Y/n clearly knew what he was in for, and Bakugou wouldn’t do anything incase Y/n seriously stopped him. The request was kinda long, sorry about that lol. If you don’t feel like writing it then it’s fine, and if you’d like to switch some things up then feel free to do so! Also, don’t feel rushed and take your time. Have a nice day/night! :>

Summary: I'm not a dark blogger, but this req is honestly too amazing. I will change some things as to not make it exactly dark though— And thank you for being patient with me and the recent incident. 💛

Warnings: NFSW • proof read • Aged up • mild angst{?}

Cast: Villian!M!Reader x Pro hero!Bakugou

○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○

Y/N L/N. A name that was a hassle to spit out. Your name was spoke like a horrid sickness spreading west to east. All you were was some mildly lowlife starting cat fights on the streets of Japan. It usually happens at night, and that's also when you strike 24 hour open corner stores. Quite fun to be honest. Your skill being up to par of a spy since your original outing clothing you were seen with was mostly black. Your hair was dyed a certain way after a long past incident though, kinda making you stick out overall you camflouged into the night.

Your pro hero, hot headed, stress filled, boyfriend however, was gold spoon in it's prime. A pro hero who was rich with fame. Oh god he had it all in your eyes. You sometimes cried with tears of joyfulness just at the mere slick thought you were dating him. Not no female who just as good looking, like Creati. No, none of that. It's not like he would change that spite his efforts of frustration with your recent activities these part two years.

The streets are terrific to you for these two years though. Everything is nearly breakable and easily fixed with community money. You would think it was community money atleast. All is good since you made sure to leave your mark with explosives.

Hence your love and passion for your lover, you would smuggle cheap fireworks and set them off at random areas of the late hours. The most recent one being pulled off near a school and and anyone could imagine how the headlines went. The news was erratic with wow and terror of where the explosion even came from, who set it off. Little did they obviously not know —

It was pro hero, Katsuki Bakugous boyfriend.

On to other things. Bakugou was in a meeting. Apparently he was being caught up with some warning of a manic villain roaming the streets and city alone.

"So what ?" The room was silent as all eyes transferred front to the back where he sat. Eye bags slightly visible of how stressed he really was after the news confirmed he was.

A co-worker of his, Kirishima raised his hand in apparent anxiousness. "Um", he coughed into his fist before speaking again. "Well, Bakubro he has been going at it for nearly 2 years. No one even know what he looks like, hell man." Starting to get his voice back he finally said, "We probably don't even know if he is a he !" The rooms tension was held up to a few more minutes before Bakugou just got up and walked out.

Another co-worker of his, Mina sparked up and said, "Where are you going !" Her words fell on deaf ears as he was already gone.

Heavy weighted footsteps of his boots were heard along the agency's hallways as people made sure to step out of his way. Grabbing his stuff most important for his next move being his car keys. His brain hurt of how fucking frustrating it is to be held back from work because of his delinquent boyfriend wants to treat the world as a damn playground. He couldn't take it! The stress and anxiety he kept for 2 years was just high enough for him to fuck one out. And he might just.

Just because those assholes didn't know where to find you, doesn't mean he can't. You were always close to a rundown apartment in an alleyway doctoring up a new firework of your own or anything remotely for distruction.

And there you were. In a damn corner completely unaware of the 6 foot presence behind you. Horny and exhausted was a nasty mix for anyone and Bakugou is a worse case as he grabbed you by your arm turning you around.

Alert entered your mind as you nearly, by a measly hair burnt him with a match you had. Why was here was all you could ask yourself, feeling his dramatic hot pants near your neck.

"Why-" No time for speaking when he was highly eager to ravage your ass. You knew how he was from time time since you've met him and because of this you have gotten the worst and the best of him. Sex and life alone was hot and dangerous between the both of you.

His lips marked yours up with a grunt of his own making it seem as if he was feasting on your chapped ones. The dryness making it sting sweetly only adding to the arousal you now felt for yourself. Kissing him. Him not taking his time as he will easily swallow his food without chewing.

"I'm fucking pissed." He snapped. This version of him was the only version you couldn't take. No type of convincing could make an outsider believe your actions to one another was not non consensual. His slightly bigger form compared to your own was trifling as it was pressed up to your chest.

After minutes of searching eachothers mouths with fever and rush he finally stripped himself from his pants. You caught a rare glimpse of how hard he really was. Now this was irritating you at this point. You were no sore loser, but if someone ever took something from you like candy it would easily be endgame.

"Stop fucking pouting. I just got out of a meeting early", he adjusted his position a bit. "To fuck your meddling ass." He closed the space between you two as his cologne and natural scenticked your senses. A shiver went down your spine like a fresh cold drop of sweat as you backed away into the corner. He followed that and smirked. You couldn't be serious.

"Turn around. I wanna see it." He huffed, impatiently. You obviously did what you were told. No time in making him even more pissed. He admired your obedience when it came to your relationship. Only if you could follow that up in turning yourself in. Sadly you were too prideful, probably why you both have an odd ball bond with eachother.

Like lightning your pants were down just like his as he slapped your ass with a strikingly heavy hand. Watching your arse slightly move was guilty enjoyment of his own.

"Ah !" You covered your mouth quickly in fear of his scolding. Number 1 rule of him when frustrated was that on all accounts. Don't. Fucking. Make. A. Peep. That reminder did not fail to make you turn back with pleading eyes with him looking back at you with pliant disbelief.

"Yer' really trying to fuckin' test me, yeah ?" He asked. Not loud how he usually is, but a lower octave with a nonchalant expression. He was tired. Tired of your prideful denial of going to jail. Tired of these late damn meetings at the agency. Tired of his parents calling him because he was doing this to himself. He was fucking exhausted of it all. His top tier was you especially.

☆

That's completely fine though. He can sex all of this out on his handsome villain boyfriend.

Y/N fucking L/N.

I hope this is fine, again I'm not a dark blog so if I wrote this along with the req it would get a bit dark. { I love dark blogs so it would be a whole series 💀. }

#mha bakugou #bakugou x male reader #x male reader #bnha x male reader #anime x male reader #mha x male reader #male reader smut #bakugou smut #villain reader #male reader #bottom male reader

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regretthatsme · 4 years ago

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The Doe - Harry Potter x fem!reader

A/n: Harry's second child is named Arthur Remus in this. Albus Severus is a god awful name about two god awful people.

Harry was quickly running to the seventh floor. He was running late for class.

You see, Harry was a teacher. An illegal one, maybe. But, a teacher nonetheless. He was certainly a better teacher than toad-face.

Today, Harry was going to teach a very important lesson. Today was the day where the students would learn expecto-patronum.

He was watching the students file into the Room of Requirements. The excited chatter of teenagers filled the empty room.

"Alright. Alright!" Said Harry, immediately silencing any conversation. "Today, we will be learning the patronus charm. It is one of the most difficult spells to learn, so don't be discouraged if you don't get it on your first try."

Harry did the demonstration of the spell, a bright white stag erupting from the end of his wand.

"Think of your happiest memory. Allow it to fill you up." He said while circling around the room. "A full body patronus is the most difficult to produce."

He was getting lost in the magic and pure joy that echoed across the room, and that's when he saw it.

A glittering silver doe standing right in front of him. Some students stopped to stare at the marvel aswell. Harry's patronus seemed to notice, and it began to walk towards the doe. The stag bowed his head. The doe reciprocated, only to scamper off seconds later with the stag following suit.

Harry stood in awe for a few moments. He tried to think back to his teachings, but his mind kept going back to that damn doe.

And that one class became two. Then three. Then the week.

One month.

It's been one month. And that's when he told Ron.

"I don't know, Ron. I can't stop thinking about it. It keeps coming back. And I tried to ignore it, but then it comes back stronger than ever before." Harry expressed to his friend.

"I don't know what to tell you mate." Said Ron as he bit into a chocolate frog.

"I know... it's just... I feel... something."

"What do you want me to do?"

"I don't know! Just.... will I ever find her?"

Ron looked at his friend. Harry was hunched over with sullen eyes. He was deep in thought. He's serious, Ron thought.

"Cheer up, mate. I'm sure you will find her again."

Harry got up from his bed and started pacing. "What if I don't? I saw something incredible. Indescribable even... I found my soulmate, Ron!" Harry was almost shouting in frustration.

"Relax! It's not my fault. Stop screaming at me!" Ron told Harry. Harry began to take deep breaths and sat back on his mattress.

"I've never felt this way about anyone before. I've never had someone to love, you know? I don't want them to slip away like everyone else."

"Hey, not everyone has slipped away. You still have me and Hermione!"

Harry chuckled. "Thank you for listening. I know it's weird to talk about sappy stuff with me."

"Hey. If you can't talk to your friend about your soulmate, what good are they?"

-*-*-*-

Harry prepared for the next lesson, this week focusing on protego. The library was quite empty, only a few second years and one other fifth year.

That fifth year in question is a certain Y/N L/N. She was.... wow. She was one of the most beautiful people in her year. Her H/C hair was so lush and thick and shined in the sun. It shined almost as much as her eyes, which captivated whoever looked into them.

But it's not just her looks that captured the hearts of many, it was also her mind. Her brilliant mind. She could answer any question in the blink of an eye. She could pass any test with flying colors. But, she was creative and oh so kind. More kind than anybody Harry had ever met. Just being in her presence was enough to brighten anyone's day.

Certainly enough to lighten mine, thought Harry.

"Hello, Harry." Y/N said. She had moved to sit across from him.

"U-um. Hello, Y/N." Harry studdard.

"Did you need me? You were looking at me so I thought you might need help."

"Oh. Um-no. It's nothing. Don't worry."

"Well, alright. Just out of curiosity, what are you researching."

Harry looked down to his roll of parchment. "Protego. I'm going to teach it next class."

"That good. It's important to be able to protect yourself. Be sure to discuss protego maxima. It protects against even stronger spells. Seems quite important for an 'army'."

"Of course. Thank you for the recommendation"

Y/N leaned closer to Harry till her lips brushed against his ear. "I'm very excited about our next class." She pulled away, winked, and walked away.

Harry's heart couldn't stop beating. He was panting, yet felt like he couldn't breath. No. No. No. No. I have a soulmate. I can't fall in love with someone else, thought Harry.

-*-*-*-

Harry wondered aimlessly down the corridors under his invisibility cloak. The night was peaceful. Just him and his thoughts, no interruptions. Until he heard a choked sob. It sounded like it came from a first year. What did the toad do the poor first year.

He rounded the corner to see Y/N comforting a young Slytherin girl. "I know. I know, Amelia." The Slytherin was still sobbing hard as ever, no matter how much consolidation she recieved. "Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?"

"No. Just be here. Just hug me." Said Amelia. Harry could see a tear trickle down Y/N's face.

"You want to see something cool?" Amelia nodded, though it seemed a bit reluctant. "I'm going to cast a spell. Are you ready?" Amelia nodded again, much more vigorously.

"Expecto Patronum."

And there it was.

That damn doe.

That damn doe that haunted him since the day he saw it.

That damn doe that made him rethink so many choices.

That goddamn doe... the love of his life.

He knew that he probably shouldn't do it. He knew that he could be caught if he were to. But, he couldn't help himself. He couldn't fucking help himself.

"Expecto Patronum." Harry whispered.

A stag erupted out of the top of the wand. It immediately ran towards the doe, almost as if he missed her. The stag pranced around both Y/N and doe before bowing down. Just like in the Room of Requirements.

"Can I touch it?" asked Amelia.

"I don't see why not."

She reached up to touch the deer. As soon as she did, Amelia started giggling. Y/N did as well. It felt like pure happiness.

They backed away, and the doe took their place. She bowed down as well. They raised their heads and look into each other's eyes. They kept eye contact as they stepped closer together. Until they came together.

Before long, the deers disappeared.

"I can go back, now." Said Amelia.

"Do you want me to bring you back?" Asked Y/N.

"No thank you." Amelia made her way down the hall. Y/N waited until she couldn't hear the patter of feet.

"Harry. I know you're there. Harry! Where are you?"

Harry took off his cloak before spewing out apologies, "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable or if I messed up. I couldn't help myself. I should have stopped myself. I knew this was - mmmph!" His rant was cut off by a pair of lips on his.

"Harry, there is nothing to apologize for!" Y/N giggled. Merlin, it sound like music. Harry couldn't help but laugh with her.

"So...."

"You're my soulmate then, Y/N?"

"If you would like to call me that, I suppose."

"I would if that's alright with you." Harry places his face in the crook of her neck. Y/N could feel the shit-eating grin on his face. "Would you like to go to Hogsmead on Sunday?"

"Sounds lovely."

-*-*-*-

"James! Wake up!" Y/N tried waking up her son. "Come on. It's your first day of school."

"No. Bed."

"James, if you don't get up, I'm confiscating your broom." Said the boy's mother. It's safe to say that he got ready alarmingly quickly.

Lovely, thought Y/N. She walked downstairs to her two other children eating breakfast. "Good morning, Lily. Good morning, Arthur." She finished each greeting with a kiss on the forehead.

"Good morning, mum!" Said Lily. She was bouncing up and down with excitement, even if she wasn't going to Hogwarts just yet. Arthur stayed silent, however.

"Arthur? You okay? It's your first day at Hogwarts! You should be excited." Said his mother.

"I know. I'm just... nervous." He said, a frown made it's way onto his lips.

"Darling!" Y/N's husband clambered into the room and placed a quick peck to her cheek. He turned to face Arthur. "How are doing? Are you excited?"

"Yes." Arthur faked a smile for the sake of his father.

"Oh gosh! Look at the time! We have to get going or we'll be late!" Said Y/N as she frantically collected her family's belongings.

-*-*-*-

"Dad, what if I am put into Slytherin?" Asked Arthur, about to board the train.

"Arthur Remus Potter. Slytherin isn't a bad house. In fact, it is quite extraordinary. Your mother was almost put in Slytherin for how determined and cunning she was! It would be an honor to have you be in Slytherin. Just as much of an honor as if you would be in Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, or Ravenclaw. We will love you no matter what."

Arthur hugged his father so tightly as tears leaked from his eyes. "I-I don't w-want to l-leave you, Dad. I don't want to leave Mum, either. Or Lily."

Harry pulled back and wiped the tears from his eyes. "I know. But, before you know it, you'll be back home and you'll be sick of us all over again." Harry laughed. He had to laugh. If he didn't, he would cry too.

Satisfied with that response, Arthur left his father's embrace and walked over to his mother, who was watching the whole time.

"I love you so much. I love you to the moon and back." She said, giving one last hug to her children before they boarded the train. They grow up too fast.

"I'll write every day." Said Arthur, waving from his compartment on the train.

"Write us when you get settled in! And be sure to tell what house you are in!" Shouted Harry. The train started to ride away. Harry looked at his children then to his wife. He was and will be forever grateful for the woman standing beside him, who gave him a family, who gave him so much.

And to think it all happened because of a damn doe.

#harry potter #harry potter x reader #harry potter x y/n #harry potter x ravenclaw!reader #harry james potter #harry potter x you

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kotorilovesalpacas · 4 years ago

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Before I Go - Part 2 (Bakugou Katsuki x Reader)

A/N: so a lot of ppl asked for a part two of this and i debated writing one in the first place, so here it is!! it’s still a little angsty and i’m sorry if it isn’t great but i wanted to end it on a little happier note

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

Warnings: angsty but has a happy ending, slight mentions of harm, makes my heart hurt

Part 1 / Part 2

When you woke the following morning, instinct was the first to kick in, making you want to head to Bakugou's room so you could both start your morning with one another. But the sore ache lingering in the back of your throat reminded you of the events that had transpired the previous day.

Instead, you stayed in bed, your eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. You heard soft footsteps moving around in the halls. Soft laughter seeped through the floor as everyone met in the common room, musing about what was for breakfast.

You stayed there until everyone had left, presumably thinking that you were taking the day off sick. Only then did you emerge and stumble your way to campus, your heart feeling as though it were completely weighing you down. The lessons faded together, sounding like a mere cacophony of noise fighting against the ringing in the back of your mind.

It was hard not to glance over at your now ex-boyfriend, wondering if he was looking at you, too. Was he thinking about you? Did he even care how much he had hurt you? Did he even realise?

When lunch came around, you didn't head to the cafeteria with everyone else. You just couldn't act as if everything was okay, when your whole world was crumbling around you. Instead, you headed outside to eat by yourself under the shade of a tree, where the wind could wipe away your tears gently.

"Y/N," A voice called out to you, "what are you doing out here?"

You glanced up to find Izuku rushing towards you. His green eyes were narrowed, brows knitting together as he frowned at you. If anybody was going to realise that something was off, it was going to be Izuku. You should have realised that you wouldn't be able to hide your pain from him.

"I just wanted to get some fresh air." You lied, praying that your quivering voice wouldn't give you away so easily. "What's up?"

"I'm worried about you. You really think you can hide this from me?"

You sighed, "Of course not. It doesn't mean I won't try."

"Something happened with Kacchan, right?" Trust him to hit the nail on the head. He sat himself beside you and you felt a sense of comfort just from having a friend beside you. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"I can't." You breathed, knowing that if you even attempted to cast your mind back to the previous day, you would only break down in neverending sobs. "He just... he said some really horrid things, Izuku."

"I'm sure he didn't mean them," Izuku said softly, trying to meet your eyes with a soft smile.

Your eyes darted upwards for a brief moment, but the sight of his kind eyes only brought you to tears. You ended up spilling all of the details to him, and he simply sat beside you, holding you close to him as you choked your way through the story. His head rested upon yours, your lunch now forgotten on the floor as tears cascaded down your neck and soaked into the collar of your shirt.

"I'm so sorry, Y/N. Even if he didn't mean it, he should never have said those things to you." Izuku muttered, disdain laced into his voice. His hand rubbed your shoulder, trying to let you know that he was there for you.

At some point, your tears had stopped. But your chest was burning, your face covered in sad streaks; a dead giveaway of your true feelings. There was no way you could go back to class in such a state.

Izuku was kind enough to pass on a message that you were feeling unwell, so you returned to the dorms and hid away in your room. When you got back, you sent him a text to let him know that you were grateful.

You managed to return the next day, but it had become painfully evident to everyone in the class that something had happened. Bakugou couldn't look anyone in the eye. You refused to speak to anyone. He spent his entire week hiding out in the training room, adding more burns to a growing collection on his forearms. You sought comfort beneath your bedsheets, where your cries were muffled and the pillow caught your tears.

A week passed in this fashion, with your classmates discussing how they could help in hushed whispers when they thought you couldn't hear. As much as you appreciated their concern, you didn't really want other people to involve themselves in your problems.

As you were hiding away in bed one evening, your eyes staring at your phone screen blankly, a knock disturbed you. Your eyes gazed over to the doorframe, wondering if you had misheard; surely someone wouldn't be visiting so late.

Before you could even respond, a voice called out to you, "Y/N, I know you're in there. Let me in please; we need to talk."

Just the sound of his voice made your heart wilt. If you hadn't already cried yourself dry, new tears would have sprouted behind your eyes. You shifted beneath your bedsheets, dragging your feet as you made your way over to the door.

Your hand paused on the handle, "I don't know if I want to talk to you right now."

"Please." Bakugou's voice took on a tone that you had never heard before. There was a slight quiver in his voice, his words laced with pain. For the first time, he sounded vulnerable.

Your heart ached for the boy that you loved. Against your better judgement, you pulled open the door. His hair was dishevelled, there was a sheen of sweat covering his forehead. You could see the burns dancing upon his forearms. Instinctively, you reached out, brushing your fingertips gently across his skin.

"Don't do this to yourself anymore, Bakugou." You pleaded with him, finally meeting his crimson gaze after so long. Though his eyes usually hid how he felt, you could see the guilt in them.

"Can I come in?"

You nodded, stepping aside for him. You closed the door behind, allowing the two of you some privacy.

"I'm not even sure where to begin... Everything I said to you... It was awful, and I wish I'd never fucking said it. I'm such a goddamn asshole. I was so selfish and so angry." His words seemed to blend together; he was just fighting to spit them out. Bakugou knew he should have planned what he wanted to say beforehand, but he had so many feelings that everything came tumbling out at once. "I can't believe I could hurt you like that, Y/N. I'm so fucking sorry. Nothing I say will ever make it up to you, and I know that, but I really hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me."

You murmured, "I just wanted to help you, Bakugou."

"I know. I know you did. But I was so hurt, and so angry, and so frustrated. Not only getting taken like that, but putting you and everyone else in danger when you came to save me. If something had happened to you, I would never have forgiven myself." He looked back at you, his arms hanging by his sides.

"And I'll never forgive myself for letting you be taken."

"But it wasn't your fault, Y/N."

"It wasn't your fault, either."

Both of you paused at that. Without even knowing, you both had been blaming yourselves. You felt that you had let him down by not being able to get him back. He felt that he had let you down by putting you in danger.

You spoke, "We shouldn't blame ourselves for something that the League of Villains chose to do. What happened is on them, and nobody else."

"I know." Bakugou's eyes turned to the floor. You could see that it was so hard for him; he usually liked to have control over his situations. He hated to think that there was something he couldn't fix, or something he couldn't do. "I know I need to stop blaming myself for All Might's retirement, but it's so hard."

"I know."

"It just overwhelmed me, and I lashed out at you." The corners of his lips turned down in a frown. As much as you wanted to punish him, you know that you both had suffered enough. Your hand grasped his, interlocking his fingers with yours. "I don't deserve you, Y/N, and I never will."

You pulled him into a tight hug, the tears finally spilling down your cheeks. You buried your face into his neck, finding comfort in his familiar smell of burnt caramel mixed with a tinge of sweat. His entire body felt so tense, but it seemed to melt away as you embraced him. His shoulders seemed to shake against yours and you knew that he was crying, too.

"I love you so much, Bakugou Katsuki." You breathed, pressing a kiss to his neck softly. You felt his fingers dragging across your back, trying to pull you ever closer to him. "You mean the world to me and I hate to see you in pain."

"I love you too, Y/N. I only ever want to protect you." He whispered, his voice heavy with his tears that he had fought so desperately to hold back. As much as he would have accepted your decision if you chose not to forgive him, he was so glad that you had.

"Listen, why don't you make yourself comfortable and we can watch a movie?" You suggested, finally pulling away to show him a big smile. You wiped the tears from under your eyes and he nodded, his head turned to the floor to hide the tears on his cheeks. "I'll grab us some snacks."

He mumbled, "Thank you."

With a nod, you made your way over the door. You paused, glancing over your shoulder as you asked, "Before I go, do you want anything?"

#bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou #katsuki bakugou angst #bnha #bnha angst #bnha bakugou #mha #mha bakugo katsuki #mha angst #fluff #katsuki x reader

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catzula · 4 years ago

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Confessions.

A\N: is this self-indulgent? Yes, yes it is. And did I cry writing this? Positive. Okay, the thing is, this is something I've been wanting to publish for so long, but I didn't have the courage to do so. But recently, I told someone about the whole ordeal and the reaction I got was so different than I expected, so I thought why not write this? Even if one person sees it and relates, or maybe even encourages them to talk to anyone about it, (even if you don't have anybody please I beg you come to me I'll always listen to anything you want to say), I would be so happy. Please don't think this is because I'm trying to get sympathy points, it's not. I don't want anything like that, just to actually help anyone who was in my situation. This fic (rant more like it) isn't fully based on my situation, mine is different, but I didn't feel comfortable talking about that, oh and this isn't edited, I didn't really want to read it over and over again so idk. So, anyway, I'll be posting one of the requests today too, it's fluff yay and my first aizawa attempt, so... Yeah. A/n is longer than the fic itself, seems like it.

Warnings: delicate subject, mentions of sexual harrasment, reader isn't in a good mental state, guys if it's triggering don't read it please I have no idea if there's any other things that could be triggering

Genre: angst, some fluff in the end

Pairing: bakugou x reader

W.c: 1,6k

You felt weak.

You have never felt this weak before, so helpless and unsafe.

You felt like you weren't supposed to talk about this with anyone. It was like if you told anyone, they would shame you, like they wouldn't believe you, or maybe even tell you it was your fault.

It didn't make any sense, why would anyone think that your logical part asked. But your insecurities wouldn't let you tell anything to anyone, making you feel sick when you tried to even hint it.

So you decided it was the best not to say anything, hide it forever even. Though you thought that was for the best for everyone, it was the hardest thing you probably ever did.

Your friends were aware of how jumpy you were late, how whenever someone touched you for anything, or even brushed you slightly, you froze with fear. But when they asked about it, you would brush it off as nothing.

They noticed how moody you were too, how frustrated you were with everything, crying, or getting mad at random, small things.

How you distanced yourself from people, hid for them, isolating yourself.

It was hard for them to see you like this -you were trying your hardest to smile and laugh like you always did, but they could see how much it hurt you to pretend- but it was especially hard for one certain angry boy. Bakugou was going insane, not knowing what was hurting you so and not being able to do anything about it.

Though he could never admit it, he had a crush on you. The worst kind, at that, or so he thought. He didn't like this feeling, of liking someone so much that you were constantly on his mind, his mood changing according to yours, laughing when you laughed, getting furious when you cried.

And lately, it was killing him. He knew you had feelings for him too, he knew how much you tried to look happy when he was around but it was just hurting you and that was even worse.

It was only until that one day he heard your soft voice, trembling with sadness as you explained what was going on to your best friend, Kirishima.

He hadn't meant to eavesdrop, but it was impossible for him to just leave when you were crying so.

"I'm sorry." You told Kirishima between your tears. "I'm so sorry."

***

You knew you had to tell him some time. You just hoped it would be later. But there was no running away when Kirishima pulled you to the roof, making you sit and waiting for you to speak.

"You have to tell me." He told you as you squirmed to get away. "I need you to speak to me, Yn. I need to know so I can help you, you're my best friend and I can't keep pretending nothings going on."

"I can't either." You answered, whispering without even noticing.

"I can't lie anymore, I'm tired." You sighed and hid your face in your hands. "Eiji, you have to promise me you'll listen to me until the end, and don't do anything I tell you not to do."

"Of course." He promised.

"This is about my professor." You finally admitted.

"The one you get along very well with?" He asked cautiously, afraid that wrong words were going to make you stop.

"Uh, yeah." You answered with a dry, humorless chuckle. "Apparently, we weren't getting along for the right reasons." At this, his head snapped up, his eyes locked with yours. "What?!"

"He-he tries to touch me." You mumbled in your hands. "Y/N, what the fuck does that mean?" He tried to stay calm, but how could someone stay calm over that?

Your insecurities infecting you, you felt like he was questioning you, not believing you and you swallowed hardly. "You know what? I-it's really not that important, I exaggerated." You told him, feeling uneasy all of a sudden. But he wasn't having it. He scooted near you, taking your hand in his. "No, Y/N, we have to talk about this! What do you mean by- by trying to touch you?" Your heart hammering in your chest you decided to rip the band-aid off.

"He touches me." You repeated, a lump in your throat, not allowing you to speak more than a whisper. "And he always has that- that smile... that smile that shows he knows what he's doing, and he knows how weak I am, how I can never do anything about it." You went on, feeling the hot tears tumbling down your cheeks. You shuddered with the unwanted memories.

"Did he-" Kirishima stopped talking, wide eyes watching you. "Did he ever..." Although he couldn't finish his sentence, you knew what he meant. "No." You told him. "He never went all the way, it's more like he's toying with me."

"How did this happen?" He asked, words so silent, you almost didn't hear them.

You shrugged. "It started small." Your voice faltering with tears. "At first I thought it wasn't on purpose." You told him as you relived the memories. "His hand sometimes brushed my breasts and my skirt... He would also press his body against mine when he was walking in the hallways..."

Oh my God, this was terrible. Just talking about it made you feel so weak. Why couldn't you just say something, do anything? Why did you always freeze with fear instead of fighting? Maybe some people just didn't have it. Did this make you unworthy?

"Then it just started to get worse. He would full-on grab me when he 'helped' me with my questions, would always come so- so close to me that I could feel him. He started to corner me, made me stay after class, and just always tried to catch me alone."

"Oh my God," Kirishima mumbled, unable to say anything else. "Why didn't you say anything?"

Yes. Why didn't you?

"I was scared." You whispered. "I was scared of- of you thinking I was lying, that I was saying this for attention, that I was exaggerating, that this wasn't important that this was my fault."

Was it your fault? Maybe you could have worn pants instead of skirts. Or maybe you smiled at him too much, did you give him the wrong impressions? Was it really your fault?

His head snapped up, angrier than you had ever seen him. "How could you think all that?" He asked voice laced with anger. "He is a... a well-loved person, Eijirou. Everybody likes him, trusts him and he just looks so nice... Why would anyone believe me when-" You stopped talking when he hugged you once again, tighter than ever before. "I would always believe you."

I would always believe you. Words you longed to hear so damn much, making you cry uncontrollably.

"I feel so weak, Eiji." You said once again, the nickname you had given him falling off your lips for the first time in a while. "I can't even say anything to him... I'm weak... I'm afraid of people judging me, and I just can't feel safe anymore. I can't even trust myself."

"I'm so sorry." He told you between the sniffs he was trying to hide, you thought it was ironic that he was the one apologizing. "I'm so sorry Y/N."

Both of you weren't aware of the angry boy listening to you, shaking with anger and sadness. He couldn't believe there was someone out there making you feel like this when he himself couldn't even dare to tell you his feelings, let alone touch you.

***

"Where are you taking me?" You asked at the boy tugging at your wrists, pulling you somewhere.

Bakugou came to your door the next day he heard your conversation with Kirishima, a plan in his mind to help you, at least a little bit.

"Okay, we're here." He told you. He had brought you on a small field, surrounded by trees and flowers, an empty space in the middle. Your heart beat fastened in your chest, but how could it not when he looked this way to you?

"I will teach you self defense." He told you.

"What?" Wasn't that a little too random? "You heard me." He answered gruffly. "I'll teach you how to defend yourself."

"I- I mean- thank you!" You said, laughing a little. "But I don't understand..."

Oh no.

"Why?" You wanted- needed his answer to be something, anything other than what you had in mind. But it was obvious that it wasn't, when he stayed quiet.

"You heard us." You whispered, hand trembling with fear. The boy you liked, the one you had the biggest crush on, had heard how pathetic you were, how you didn't even have the courage to speak, to push this man's hand and confront him.

"No-" you choked. "It's not what you think." You said as you thought about what you could say, but your mind went blank when his hand caressed your cheek. "Don't." He told you. "Don't lie to me, you don't need to. You don't have to talk about it either, but I'll be here, always here for you to speak, to seek help, and now I will teach you self defense. You said you didn't feel safe, you felt weak. I'll be your safe place if you need me to, but I want you to feel safe yourself too."

You opened your mouth to say something but he didn't let you.

"Look, this isn't because I'm pitying you, or because I think you're not capable of defending yourself. I just- I want to help you, be with you, and this is the only thing I can do."

"Thank you." You whispered and without giving any warnings, you wrapped your arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. "You have no idea how much this helps."

A long silence went between you, allowing you to ask that one question.

"But why are you doing all this for me, Bakugou?"

He pulled back with your question, though so slightly that your noses almost touched each other. "It's because-" he stopped, fear clawing in him. What if you didn't feel the same way? He knew you did, but what if you didn't?

He gulped and took a deep breath. You have been acting so brave for the longest time, he couldn't even understand what you had went through- even though you couldn't see how brave you were yourself. So he decided it was his turn to be brave now.

"It's because I'm in love with you." Your breath stuck in you, eyes wide but a smile of relief on your lips. "Bakugou..." You whispered as he leaned in a little more.

"I love you too."

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devotedwaywardangel1 · 4 years ago

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The Night Guard

Arthur Pendragon x Male!Reader

Fandom: BBC Merlin

Word count: 1747

Warnings: Near death experience, little bit angsty

A/N: Yeah been working on this one a while, doing every Merlin character x male reader since there are barely any so request/suggestions are welcome.

~~~

Arthur is walking down the hall, Merlin not far behind, ready to head in for the night. He sees you wait for him by the door making him smile. You smile at him and wait patiently for Arthur to be standing in front of you before he began talking. “Good evening sire.” You greet.

“For the last time (Y/n) you can call me Arthur.” Arthur shakes his head.

“Of course Arthur, there is a matter of which I would like to discuss.”

“Come on in then.” Arthur says as he deflates a bit.

You follow Arthur and Merlin into the room. Cracking your knuckles to relieve some of your nervous tension. Merlin was rushing around sorting Arthur out. “So… what is this matter you wish to discuss, (Y/n).”

“Yes, my sister is wedding her beloved and would like to inquire if I could spend some time with her and the rest of my family during this occasion.” You ask hopefully.

“Of course, give them my congratulations, how long are you thinking?” Arthur conceals his horror of the fact he may not see you for a few days.

“Three weeks.” You smile, excited at the opportunity to see your family for this long.

“Long time for a wedding.” Arthur blurts out.

“Well if you need me to not be…” You knew that for three weeks you were pushing it mentally kicking yourself.

“No no that’s not the problem, it’ll just be odd since I have seen you everyday for a long time.” Arthur back tracks.

“Four years.” You smile fondly.

“Already?”

“Yes, quite remarkable isn’t it, anyway I’ll be leaving tomorrow afternoon so I’ll be here tonight and I have found a temporary guard.”

“Okay, goodnight I’ll see you in three weeks.” Arthur nodded.

“Good Night.”

You leave the room to stand guard. While Arthur just stares at the door before Merlin nudges him and smiles knowingly. “Shut up Merlin.”

Merlin laughs putting out the candles as Arthur goes to bed.

True to your word you are gone by the afternoon, Arthur knows because he watches you leave from his window, he can’t deny that you look very appealing in civilian clothing. Enhanced by the fact it was a rare sight, unfortunately for Arthur, you were walking away from the citadel and he already misses you.

~~~

It had been a week since (Y/n) had left and everything seems to have gone into shambles. There had been a rise in assassination attempts, Arthur hasn’t slept or eaten properly and Merlin is so close to passing out in exhaustion its frightening. Arthur could not walk around the castle with one of the knights escorting him which was frustrating him further. He honestly didn’t know how they could last another two weeks without (Y/n), if anyone had known how much he did around the castle and how important he was to the functioning of the kingdom he would have never been able to leave.

~~~~

You are walking back to Camelot after a horrible feeling washed over you a couple of days after the wedding, you couldn’t get the thought out of your head so here you were walking back a week early. Many horrible thoughts rolled around your head. You’d never forgive yourself if something happened to Arthur, the very idea made you feel sick inside. It would be your fault for leaving for so long despite your better judgement. After years of stopping assassins up to fifteen times a month unnoticed by the higher ups. You walked up a hill in order to glance at Camelot from afar, and to your horror he saw the castle with charcoal smoke raging above it. Then you started to run.

~~~

Well this has been a great two weeks Arthur thought to himself while magically bound on the floor with the knights, Merlin and Guinevere. While they were struggling to escape their bounds the sorcerer sits lazily on the throne with a smug smile on their face. They were droning on about Uther and his genocide of the magical population, Arthur sitting there thinking that its getting harder to convince the council to lift the ban on magic when this happens all the time. (Y/n) would urge for diplomacy at a time like this but Arthur had never been great with words. But he figures it's worth a shot anyway. “What’s your name?”

Well that was definitely a start Arthur thought bitterly. The sorcerer narrows his eyes at him but answers anyway, “Romulus.”

“Okay, Romulus, why do you think it aids your cause by attacking us,” Arthur asks, a little too bluntly for his liking.

This angers Romulus greatly as he continues his rant about all Pendragons being tyrannical rulers.

~~~~

It only takes you half an hour to get to the citadel, but there are enemy soldiers everywhere. Getting into the castle would be the easy part but finding Arthur significantly harder. You cut off your thought process, knowing you had to actually get into the castle first. Raising any alarms could hurt anyone trapped inside. So you sneak round to the servant entrance.

Once you get into the castle the first you notice is that the people he brought with them are trained fighters and decent mercenaries by the look of it. This is not going to be easy you thought to yourself. Quietly dispatching as many as possible before anybody notices.

You take all of the servant shortcuts to avoid slipping into the great hall unnoticed and you see everyone in chains, you hear the sorcerer rant about freeing the magical people of Albion you roll your eyes. Not because he is wrong, nope you agree wholeheartedly just his methods of course you don’t blame the man though so you decide to interrupt. “Hey man.”

His head snaps to your direction. “Who are you?”

“The weirdo who stands outside the King’s door every night.”

“Oh you're the guard everyone tells me to worry about.”

“Yep.”

“You had the perfect opportunity to kill me?”

“Yeah, but talking to you seems to be a better option.”

“How would you know?”

Shit you didn’t think this through. “Well…”

“He doesn’t, let him leave.” Arthur growls.

You groan internally as a devilish smirk lights up the sorcerer’s face, “oh this is just too good to be true.” He laughs.

You gasp as you were flung into the wall and the sorcerer continued to torment Arthur swirling a sword looking ready to kill him urging you to get up and unsheath your sword to engage with him. Shocking him enough to make him stumble back a little, “Hey never got your name.”

“Why?” He snarls.

“I like to know the name of the person I’m fighting.” You swing at him.

“Romulus.” He blocks.

You both exchange furious blows, but you are the superior swordsman. You slash his arm and disarm him making him hiss and vanish. Smiling you turn to face Arthur seeing his tired smile in return sheathing your sword. “Are you ok-” you breath hitches.

You felt as though you got punched in the back so spin around to see Romulus with a bloodied dagger, you grab his wrist but it's weak so he easily breaks free and plunges the knife into your stomach . He smirks as he pulls it out and you collapse on the ground. The world around you goes fuzzy, screaming muffles, a face appears above you but you can’t make out who it is. The world turns black.

~~~

Arthur picks up (Y/n)’s body, bridal style, while ordering the other’s to sweep the castle for anyone more intruders and to aid anyone who needs it. “Merlin, Gwaine come with me, we need to get (Y/n) to Gaius.”

They got to Gaius’ chambers with very few hassles and put (Y/n) on the cot. “Please tell me he’s going to be okay.”

“Sire I’m going to need you to leave the room.”

“But-”

“Please sire.”

Gwaine pulls him out of the room to leave Gaius and Merlin to do whatever they need to do.

~~~

The first time you open your eyes you are in a dark room and there are angry whispers at the foot of the soft bed you’re resting on. You lose consciousness again.

The second time you wake up you see Arthur sitting next to you asleep. Observing him you notice tears stained cheeks and dark circles around his eyes. He looks worse than he did when you came to save him. You decide against waking him up and close your eyes again drifting off.

The third time you woke up you were alone and felt disgusting, dry throat, gunky eyes, oily hair and sweaty. Thankfully there is a cup of water beside you, so you shakily grab it and take a few sips. It was dawn from what you could tell, you groan as you try to sit up, your back feels like it has been stretched and your stomach stings. Pulling away the shirt you had on you see stitches that don’t look all that appealing, definitely going to leave a scar, you wince as you twist in an attempt to see the one on your back. Then Merlin stumbles in and gawks a moment and you open your mouth to say something but he runs out. You hear shouting and next minute Arthur is in the doorway. He strides over to you but halts suddenly like he doesn’t know what to do. You look up at him and part of yourself say go for it, then he moves eloping you in a gentle hug as if he thinks you’ll break. You couldn’t think of anything to say other than, “I’m okay, Arthur.”

“You nearly weren’t.” He whispers back.

That’s when the gravity of what happened hit you, you nearly died, the idea made your head feel fuzzy and your insides sick. You shake this off to comfort Arthur. “I know but your safe, I’m alive so all's good.”

Arthur breaks away and smiles. “(Y/n) I have a confession to make.”

You don’t dare hope. “And what would that be.”

“I might quite possibly be a little bit in love with you.” He looks so scared at this moment.

“Good cause I’m head over heels in love with you.”

Arthur laughs and kisses you gently, smiling into the kiss you lift hand up to caress his cheek. Arthur pulls away and sighs “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

#bbc merlin #bbc merlin fanfiction #arthur pendragon #arthur pendragon x reader #merlin #gwaine #guinevere #knights of the round table #sir gwaine #x reader #x male reader #male reader

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haileyyanneupton · 4 years ago

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✦ HAILEY UPTON X JAY HALSTEAD ✦

WARNINGS: MENTION OF BLOOD, GUN VIOLENCE, HOSPITAL, MENTION OF DEATH

There was gunfire coming from every direction, the sound echoing so severely that it left anybody within a mile radius deafened. The smell of gunpowder was overwhelming, and despite the fact that there were much easier targets to go after, Hailey Upton had her eyes fixed on only one. This particular suspect had slipped Detective Upton's grasp one too many times, leaving the woman more determined than ever to put him in cuffs and send him up to Cook County prison. Her determination had left her blind to any other potential dangers — she had tunnel vision, and it was about to catch up with her.

Hailey hadn't even realised she had been shot at first — the adrenaline rushing through her had temporarily stopped her from feeling let alone acknowledging the sharp pain in her side. It was only when the suspect she was chasing shot at her again, her vest catching the bullet, that she was knocked off of her feet, the wind being knocked out of her as she struggled for breath. She knew better than to try and sit up — playing dead was her only chance at survival in that moment — leaving her to close her eyes until she could be certain the suspect had left. After a minute or so, she managed to crawl her way behind a car before collapsing back onto the curb, her sight cloudy as she fought to keep her eyes open and her mind sharp. It was only then that she saw the trail of blood following her — glancing down, she saw that the blood was coming from a gaping wound just above her hip.

Hailey could only describe the force of a bullet shooting through her being strangely similar to that of a hard punch. The initial impact didn't hurt, but it was when the pain caught up to you that it throbbed, ached, stung and stabbed through your entire body. Hailey found herself seething as she cursed herself for getting shot and not being able to take this suspect down — it had been her fault that he had gotten away the first time, and she couldn’t believe she was letting it happen again. Her heart was pounding; every time she looked down at her hands, there was more and more crimson red blood staining her skin. Her vision blurred and grew dark around the edges as she felt her consciousness begin to slip, only to hear someone call out her name in a strained scream that ran right through to her bones.

"Hailey!"

She felt strong arms pull her body into someone's chest, but she didn't have to open her eyes to know who it was. Just like how you never forget the words to your old favourite song, Hailey would never be able to forget the sound of Jay Halstead's voice or the way her body slumped into his. She would never forget the feeling of his hands pressing against her wound to keep her alive, or the way he clutched her so close to his chest as if she could vanish into thin air at any moment. Every second remained frozen in time as she blinked her eyes open to see Jay kneeling over her with droplets of what could have been tears or sweat rolling down his freckled skin, her hand finding his arm before gripping onto it tightly.

“5021 George, we need an ambulance to our location now!” Never had Hailey ever heard the man sound so panicked. “My partner’s been shot! Officer down — I repeat, officer down!”

Hailey grimacing in pain bought the man’s attention back to her as she tried to pry his hand off of her to take over holding pressure. Jay refused however, either oblivious or choosing to ignore whatever his injured partner was trying to get him to do.

“He’s getting away, Jay,” she managed to force out, her vision growing darker and darker with every waking moment. “You h-have to go —“

“Hailey, there’s no way in hell that I’m leaving you here alone!”

“We’re gonna lose him —“

“I’m not going to lose you, Hailey!”

Silence filled the already tension filled air for a few long seconds as Jay frantically tried to stop Hailey from bleeding out, only to cry out in frustration — nothing he was doing seemed to be working. Hailey wasn’t exactly sure when, but at some point he had stripped her of her vest to allow him to hold more pressure on the wound above her hip before tossing it to the side as he tried to find a balance between putting enough pressure on the wound and not hurting Hailey any further. She looked so small and fragile as her skin slowly drained of all colour and her eyes slipped closed once again— Jay screamed for somebody, anybody to help them. Nobody came. Nobody seemed to even hear him. For the first time, it dawned on him that saving his partner who was lying lifelessly in front of him was entirely up to him. Jay wasn’t one to get scared often, but in that moment? He was absolutely terrified.

“Hailey, stay here, stay with me,” Jay sobbed, his body shaking as he tried everything to wake Hailey up again. “Come on! Hailey! Goddammit Hailey, this — this isn’t funny anymore! Wake up! Wake up, wake up, wake up!”

He felt like a helpless child.

When he heard sirens wailing in the background after calling out on his radio at least another three times, he was surprisingly angry. What took them so long? Hailey was laying there, unconscious, and they were taking their sweet time. “Did you stop for coffee on the way or something?!” Jay exclaimed, his throat raw from screaming for so long. “Help her!”

Jay felt a hand on his shoulder pulling him away from Hailey’s body as the paramedics whisked her into the back of the ambulance to stabilise her, the same hand helping him stand upright as he rubbed his face anxiously. His heart was pounding and his chest was tight, the man feeling as though the life was being squeezed out with him as he watched them force a mask over his partner’s mouth and nose. A small squeak left his mouth as he furiously wiped his tears off of his cheeks — he hated crying.

“Hailey. . .” He spoke her name in more of a whisper. “Please! Please be okay!”

Behind him was Kim, who was wearing a stressed expression while being comforted gently by Adam. Vanessa was standing by Kevin with tears in her eyes, but the one standing by him, was Voight. Voight’s eyes usually seemed so cold and distant — but not that day. That day, Hank Voight’s eyes held worry and concern for Hailey as well as sympathy for Jay, who was crumbling worse than he ever had in front of his unit. Everybody watched on, waiting for somebody to say something — that was until a paramedic poked their head out of the back of the Ambulance and looked directly over at the Intelligence unit.

“Which one of you is coming with us?”

Nobody argued when Jay practically launched himself into the back of the ambulance, nor was anybody surprised. Just because both Jay and Hailey were blind to their attraction to each other, it didn't mean everybody else was too. They could see how infatuated they were with each other, they caught them staring longingly at each other from across the bullpen even when they didn’t realise it. Jay and Hailey had been working up to an exploding romance since the day they met — this was sure to be the tipping point. Jay had gotten hurt on the job so many times, leading Hailey to become a mess every time — this was the first time Hailey had gotten herself into a situation where her life was hanging in the balance.

It was safe to say that Jay knew how she felt now. ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ The bullet Hailey had been hit by normally wouldn’t have done as much damage as it did, but with the woman not realising she had been shot and continuing to chase after the suspect, the bullet had slowly but surely made it’s way to her pelvis and had come into contact with blood vessels there. The thing about the pelvic area was that when there was a significant trauma to it, there was always a risk that a person could bleed out due to the amount of blood vessels intertwined together. Not only that, but the fact that the pelvic cavity could hold more than the entire amount of circulating blood in a human body meant that the doctors at Chicago Med had to work quickly.

Will had come in late that morning, yet he knew as soon as he saw his brother being restrained by a couple of nurses and another doctor that something bad had happened. Jay wasn’t one to lose his cool and not be able to bring himself back, so seeing him being basically carried out to the waiting room was a sight that left him sick with worry. His first priority suddenly became his brother and working out what the hell happened — as he approached the man, Will grew more and more concerned as his blood stained clothes became more apparent.

“Jay,” Will placed a hand on his brother’s shoulder as Jay searched around the room frantically for some kind of answer that he wasn’t going to get. “Jay, look at me. What happened? Are you hurt?”

Jay numbly shook his head. He didn’t know how to say anything except her name.

“Hailey.”

“Hailey’s hurt?” Will’s eyes went wide; it was staring to make sense. “What did they tell you?”

“I — She — You. . .”

Jay always had something to say. He always had an opinion, a remark — something — yet at that moment, he was completely and utterly lost for words. His mind had hit a brick wall named Hailey, and until he knew that she was okay, he wasn’t getting past it any time soon. The fact that his brother was standing in front of him with such a panicked expression only panicked Will too, leaving the doctor to walk his dark haired brother into a chair as he caught eye of Voight who was walking in with the rest of the unit hot on his tail. After passing his brother off into the capable hands of his Sergeant, Will headed right into the emergency room to find out what was going on and exactly how bad it really was.

Hailey had almost coded once when her blood pressure bottomed out, but before she could go into full arrest the doctors had hung a few bags of blood on the rapid transfuser which bought her back enough for them to take her into emergency surgery. It wasn’t easy, but they had managed to remove the bullet and repair the blood vessels in Hailey’s pelvis, leaving her stable enough to head to the ICU while the rest of the blood she had lost was being transfused. Will had done his best to keep Jay updated, but his brother had quite literally lost it when he heard that Hailey had almost gone into cardiac arrest and was being taken up for surgery — it took the strength of not just Adam, but Kevin and Vanessa too to hold him back from running after the surgeons. When Natalie had gotten hurt, Will could remember how painful the not knowing was. Jay was feeling just the same.

As every minute ticked by, the seconds felt like they lasted longer and longer. Jay felt like he was watching people walk in and out of the emergency department faster than it was taking for anyone to give him any news on Hailey, the man about ready to explode. It was only when Will came out with a small smile on his face that Jay felt some of the rope that had been tied around his chest loosen — a smile was a good sign. Right?

“She’s okay, Jay,” Will told him gently. “She’s awake and wants to see you if you’re up for it.”

Jay practically pushed past his brother and towards the elevator on the other side of the emergency department as he impatiently pressed the button that Will had called out as he slipped in beside him. The fact that Hailey was in the ICU scared Jay a little bit, but the fact that she was awake was enough to calm his trembling hands just a little bit. He hated feeling so uneasy and unsteady, as if he could fall to the ground at any point — if this was how Hailey felt every time he had gotten shot, Jay was never leaving the district again.

As he walked into Hailey’s hospital room, his breath was knocked out of his lungs for a split second as he took in her appearance. The pinkish tone she had to her cheeks was coming back and her lips were no longer a pale white, her hair spread messily across the pillow as she opened her blue eyes with a smile.

“How does it feel to have an uno reverse card pulled on your ass?”

At last, the rope around his chest disintegrated into nothing, Jay finally able to let out a sigh of relief as he smiled gently. If Hailey was making a joke at Jay’s expense, then she was feeling herself. That was all he wanted.

“I’ll be honest,” Jay sighed lightly, rubbing his face absentmindedly. “Not great.”

Hailey gave a lopsided smirk as Will left the room, giving Jay and Hailey some time alone as Jay took a seat in the chair beside her bed.

Hailey truly thought that she was going to die when she slipped out of consciousness that last time. She fought for as long as she could, lived on borrowed time that wasn’t hers to take, but only because in that moment, she realised something that would change everything for her. As she felt herself drifting further and further away, she realised that she wasn’t afraid of death. In fact, death seemed kind of peaceful in comparison to half of the things she had had to deal with in her life. No, what she feared more than anything else was being without Jay because without him, there was no sunshine. There was no happiness. Without Jay, Hailey felt like a giant piece of her was missing and she couldn’t bare feeling that kind of empty for any longer than she already had. There was no way.

By the time Hailey looked back over at Jay, she was shocked to find that he had his head in his hands as his body shook gently in the chair next to her. They were faint, but small sobs could be heard escaping the man’s lips as she felt her heart squeeze in a painfully uncomfortable way — she wanted to make him feel better, but she genuinely had no idea what to do.

“Jay,” Hailey’s voice was soft yet still raspy as she called out to her partner sadly. “I’m okay. I promise I’m okay.”

“You nearly weren’t though,” Jay countered, his tone not nearly as hostile as what part of her had expected it to be. “I was so. . .”

“I know.”

“I thought you. . .”

“I know.”

Jay’s watery eyes found Hailey’s, the sight making her own eyes sting too. Not many people realised or even knew that Hailey was a deeply empathetic person — in order to shield her heart though, she had to put up a cold exterior sometimes to protect herself. She normally had no problem keeping up that exterior, practicing it for so long that it came to her like second nature — that was until she was laying across from her partner, her best friend, watching him fall to pieces.

In one swift moment, Jay was up on his feet and had wrapped Hailey up in his embrace, her hair absorbing his tears as he held onto her with all of his might. Now that he had her in his arms once again, he couldn’t physically bring himself to let her go — he was petrified that if he did, she would just disappear. Hailey could feel just how fast the man’s heart was beating as she too wrapped her arms around him, only solidifying further just how much of a wreck he truly was.

“I’m sorry for scaring you,” Hailey whispered into her partner’s ear. “I didn’t even realise I got shot, Jay, otherwise I would have called for help earlier. I only came down because he shot me in the chest and my vest caught it, but. . . I guess you already know how hard that can hit you.”

Jay didn’t say anything for a moment, the only sound coming from him being small sniffles as he tried to pull himself together. When he finally did answer, the words that escaped his mouth not only shocked Hailey but frankly, Jay too.

“Hailey,” he started, pulling away from the woman slightly to stare at her properly. “I love you.”

Hailey’s eyes went wide for a moment, taken aback so much she thought that her heart might stop and it would set off the monitors all over again. “Jay —“

“Never mind, I don’t — I don’t know why I said that. I — I’m sorry, I. . .” Jay paused for a moment, staring into blue eyes for a few heartbeats. “Actually, you know what? I’m not sorry. I do love you Hailey. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anybody in this world.”

Butterflies erupted in Hailey’s stomach as she stared, stunned. Little did she know however that Jay was freaking out just as much as she was, feeling as though he was a high schooler asking out his very first girlfriend all over again. He suddenly forgot how words worked and he needed to be reminded what a coherent sentence was.

“The thought of losing you for good is just — it’s too much. I can’t do it. We aren’t guaranteed tomorrow Hailey — I could walk out of here and get hit by a bus — I’m tired of shoving these feelings away when all I can ever think about is you. When I wake up I wonder if you’re awake too, when I go to sleep I wonder what it would be like to be laying there next to you. I love you, Hailey. I love you, I love you, I love you.”

Hailey’s eyes were wide. “I-I thought it was just me.”

“Are you kidding me, Hailey?” The hint of a smile broke out onto Jay’s lips. “I’ve been obsessed with you since the day you got here.”

Nerves ran through Hailey as she debated her next move, eventually deciding to come right out and do it. Do what she had been waiting years to do. Hailey placed a hand on Jay’s cheek as she gently guided his face closer to hers, connecting her lips to his at last. After a few moments that felt as though they lasted forever, the two of them pulled away, their foreheads brushing lightly as they stared into each other’s eyes longingly.

“I’m sorry, I probably should have let you finish or at least asked before I —“

“Hailey,” Jay breathed out her name, never taking his gaze away from hers.

“Don’t you dare stop."

#one chicago #chicago pd #hailey upton x jay halstead #jay halstead #hailey upton #cpd

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outsiderslamb · 4 years ago

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Overheated

Ao3 Link

Darry has to confront his own anger issues to be a better friend and brother.

(2791 words)

(Tw for yelling, panic attacks and talks of abuse)

@naturallesbain @therealsehinton @hellsfanatic @cammie @chaotically-cas

Darry’s aching muscles screamed in protest as he hauled himself out of his chair. His body was still heavy with sweat and exhaustion from his shift, and he did not have the time to lay down. It was getting late and if he didn’t make dinner for these kids then nobody else would.

Lumbering to the kitchen, every utensil, and pot he held felt heavy in his hands. He nearly spilled the soup as he poured it from the can to the pot. Looking out the window, the sun was setting quicker than usual the later it got into the year, so Darry figured he’d call them in for supper early, as it would not be long for the soup to be done.

Heaving to the door, he called everyone in from their game of football. He did a quick headcount to see how many of his adopted family he’d need to feed tonight (anyone not there at the moment would either stop by later or had found a place for the night). There were Ponyboy and Sodapop of course, then Steve and Johnny. That made four, but he’d make a little extra to refrigerate in case anybody else stopped by.

“Hey, hey, y’all get your shoes off now,” Darry ordered as Steve and Ponyboy didn’t seem to get the memo after countless reminders. Telling them once should have been enough, Darry thought as he gritted his teeth.

“Ain’t even that dirty,” Steve replied, infuriatingly. Darry was too tired for this.

“Just get them off.” Darry couldn’t help the bite to his tone. It didn’t bother Steve too much, who just shucked them off and went to talk to Sodapop, but Darry could feel a tension in the room; even as nobody was showing it.

Nobody except Johnny, who Darry noticed was starting to fidget in place. He suddenly stood up and in the most forced-friendly way Darry had ever seen, trotted over to the kitchen. “Here, you need help?” Johnny asked, smiling as though somebody had a gun to his head.

Darry gave a little huff, he would much rather cook alone right now despite usually loving Johnny’s help, but it’d be rude to turn the little guy away. “Yeah.” he gritted out.

As they got to work, Johnny’s presence in that cramped space felt like a barrier. When the younger boy got close to the counter to pour another can of soup into the pot, the noise of sloshing made Darry feel sick.

“I think this would taste better if I added pepper,” Johnny said, standing up on his tip-toes to see into the bowl. “You have any?” he asked.

Darry gave a jerky nod. “Yeah,” he groaned, “In the cupboard,” He then turned back to heating up the stove.

Behind him, he heard Sodapop laughing. “Woah, hey Johnnycakes you tryna crack your skull open?”

Johnny’s reply was a snap “Not my fault y’all won’t invest in a step-stool.”

Darry turned to see Johnny precariously balancing on the countertop, multiple spices gathered up in his thin arms.

“Oi, Johnny!” Darry yelped, bolting to the countertop and grabbing Johnny by the waist. “I outta put you in a helmet if you’re gonna pull this shit, Jesus Christ kid!” he lifted the boy off the counter and held him in the air.

Johnny’s legs kicked a bit where they hovered off the ground, shrinking in embarrassment as Sodapop and Steve burst out laughing.

“Ah c’mon Darry, he couldn’t reach,” Ponyboy called sympathetically.

“Oh I know you ain’t talking, little man, after you snapped your arm like a twig climbing around like that,” Darry growled in response.

Ponyboy looked incredulous. “Yeah when I was six, and my arm didn’t even break it just bruised like a peach.”

“Can I get down now?” Came Johnny’s groan before Darry could come up with some kind of retort.

Darry wasn’t thinking, he just opened his arms and expected Johnny to sort himself out. Of course, Johnny fell like a sack of bricks, and so did the spices.

“Ouch!”

Darry looked down and saw Johnny trying to pick up everything he dropped, he couldn’t help feeling bad. “Sorry,” he grunted, probably not sounding very sorry at all.

“Ain’t no reason to drop him!” Steve stood up, great, another person yelling.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Johnny said, looking more annoyed than actually hurt as he set the spices on the counter and got back to work.

Steve sat back down reluctantly upon seeing that the only thing Darry had bruised was Johnny’s pride. But Sodapop didn’t seem like he wanted to let this situation simmer down.

“Dar’ I think you ought to hit the hay for now.” Said Sodapop, his sympathy sounding a lot like condescension right now.

“I’m just fine, thank you.” Darry snapped back, Sodapop shrank in response, funny he didn’t sound too angry in his head.

He tensed up his sore muscles upon feeling a small finger tap on his shoulder, whipping around way too fast he saw Johnny looking up at him with a worried expression.

“Darry you really need to go take a shower and get some rest, I think you’ve had it hard enough today,” he said nervously.

“I’m busy,” Darry grunted back.

“I can finish dinner,” Johnny offered, “I’ve been cooking for myself for years and-”

“Leave me be, I’m fine.”

“Oh you clearly aren’t, don’t lie to me.”

Darry growled, taking a quick step closer before he could stop himself.

“I SAID LEAVE ME BE!”

Darry had lost his usually tight grip on his temper at that moment. Nobody yells at Johnny in this house, because they all know that he gets enough of it at home. You’d have to be a monster to know what he goes through and still put him through.

Johnny’s face darkened, his eyes wide and he took a step back. Looking closer, Darry realized that fuck he was shaking.

“Shit. Johnnycakes I’m so-” Darry tried but Johnny turned quickly before anyone could see his reaction and walked out the door.

Darry remembered a night a few months ago when he’d snapped like this with Ponyboy, only that time he’d hit him. Darry never thought he’d forgive himself, and he’d been working on controlling his anger for a while. Darry cringed at the thought that he could have hit Johnny or any of his other adopted brothers.

Darry tried to follow, but Sodapop stood up and put a hand on his chest. “Take our advice. Please.” He said, looking tired and disappointed but not angry.

Darry took a step back and headed for the shower. He needed to cool down before anything else.

Johnny couldn’t think of anything as he sat on the porch, knees hugged up close to his chest. His mind was completely static as he stared into nothing, heart racing and breath coming out in ragged gasps.

He shouldn’t have reacted that way. Darry was just frustrated and he dealt with people yelling at him all the time at home. He shouldn’t be such a damned pansy, but he couldn’t help it.

He didn’t hear the door open or any footsteps when a hand was placed on his shoulder. Johnny jerked upwards, eyes huge, but then realized it was just Sodapop.

“Hey, buddy,” came Sodapop’s soft voice, his hand rubbing Johnny’s shoulder through his thick jacket. “Easy now, breath with me.”

Johnny felt Sodapop slide in next to him, wrapping both arms tight around Johnny’s much smaller frame, pulling his friend in close to his chest. Johnny burrowed his face into Sodapop’s shirt, as though it would give him some sort of anonymity while he tried to calm himself down. Tears soaked into the dark fabric.

“I-I usually don’t re… usually don’t react like this.” Johnny cried softly, getting a good hold on his breathing, which was good as he was alrighty starting to get light-headed.

“Its okay, honey, nobody thinks any less of you. Darry’s probably beating himself up over this,” Sodapop reassured, rubbing Johnny’s back. “Buddy, I know something else is going on. You extra stressed? Had a bad day?”

Johnny gave a wobbly sigh, the tears finally slowing. He willed his voice to not waver, “Dad had today off,” was all he needed to say.

Sodapop sighed deeply, honey-colored brows furrowing. Johnny knew how much everyone in his patch-work family wanted to stick it to his biological parents, but he couldn’t let that happen.

“Are you hurt at all?” Sodapop asked after a moment of composing himself. “We have plenty of ice, what, with all the fights our idiots like getting into,” Sodapop smirked and ruffled Johnny’s fluffy hair.

“Golly, Sodapop, y’all don’t have to do that.” Johnny wiped his eyes with his sleeve, face still flushed from crying.

“Don’t you worry about it, little buddy,” Sodapop said, “I do wish you would tell me when the bastard’s hurt you,” Sodapop pulled Johnny closer to him, “You don’t have to make an announcement or nothin’, like when one of the jackasses gets into a fight, just come to me or Darry or anybody else you feel safe with.”

Johnny thought about that. He was used to having to heal his wounds in private, as he hated the whole deal everybody would make out of it when he came in with a black-eye or bruises on his arm.

“Thank you,” Johnny finally said, then with a still-shaky hand, tugged back a tuft of curly black hair to show the swelling bruise at the corner of his forehead. “I got pushed over, hit my head on the corner of the counter,” he said. This, as bad as it was, was on the more mild side of the things Johnny had endured.

Sodapop cringed, his warm brown eyes glowing with sadness. “Oh Johnnycakes,” he reached out and gently touched his friend’s cheek. Johnny did not flinch away. “Let’s get some ice on that.”

Johnny nodded, a pang of guilt hitting him. Sodapop was clearly troubled by this, Johnny should not be finding joy in his friend’s reaction to his pain.

“Hey, did dinner just get left on the stove?” he asked, remembering that he’d dropped everything to run outside.

Sodapop shook his head, seeming to cheer up a little. “Nup, Ponyboy and Steve-o are on it.”

Johnny blanched. “We better hurry back then…” Sodapop seemed to agree.

Upon entering the house, Johnny was greeted by loud arguing coming from the kitchen, (Of course, he’d expected no less) and the faint hissing of the shower in the background.

“Put the goddamn ladle down, this shit ain’t done!” Steve barked at Ponyboy, who was trying to taste the steaming cauldron on the stove.

“I’m trying to see what we need to add.” Ponyboy defended himself, pulling out a scoop of the thick liquid and taking a slurp without even blowing on it. He nearly dropped the ladle and yelped, running to the sink to run his tongue under cool water while Steve guffawed.

“What's it need, mr. Chef sir?” Steve teased organizing the spices on the countertop.

“It probably needs to cool, given Horseboy’s caterwauling.” Johnny chided, trotting into the kitchen, he was well aware that his face was probably still red from crying.

Steve turned to Johnny with surprise, then cracked one of his gap-toothed grins. “Hey, little chiefs feelin’ better,” he said, setting the cinnamon down to screw up Johnny’s hair.

Ponyboy tried to say something from the sink, but it was muffled by the sound of running water. Johnny smiled at him, “Yeah, I’m doing better now. Move over, I gotta help you guys.”

Sodapop cleared his throat from the couch, reminding Johnny that he still needed to get the ice. Johnny nodded to him. “I’ll do it after I’m done with this disaster.”

Darry turned off the water, feeling the cold chill of the surrounding air hit him fast as he was no longer being pelted with steaming hot water.

He toweled off and headed to his bedroom to get dressed, but not before stopping to listen by the door; He counted two voices. It sounded like Steve and Ponyboy were trying to cook. That thought horrified him and he had to resist the urge to run out in nothing but a towel to make sure they didn’t burn the house down. But when Johnny’s voice joined them, he knew the crisis had been averted.

Oh.

For a moment he’d nearly forgotten what had recently transpired. He knew he technically should follow Sodapop’s advice and get some sleep before trying to fix his mess, but there's no way he could sleep with this weighing on his mind.

As he got dressed, he kept listening. Johnny’s voice was… normal. It didn’t sound too wet or too upset, that forcefully cheery attitude from earlier was completely gone. He sounded fine.

Darry thought about that. Johnny would force a smile and his voice would rise in pitch sometimes during times of conflict. But only ever during an infight in the gang. It was strange because he clearly wasn’t like that all the time, but then it hit Darry; that was his way of diffusing situations.

That only made him feel more guilty. Johnny was trying to fix the situation, and he’d gone and yelled at him. Darry wanted to hide but knew that wasn’t the right thing to do. He was going to make this right.

He finished buttoning up his new shirt and stepped out into the living area.

Upon stepping outside, he saw that Steve and Ponyboy were sitting on the couch with the TV playing, but they were arguing with Johnny and Sodapop, who were both in the kitchen fixing dinner.

“I’m perfectly capable! I ain’t the one here who pressed my whole hand on the stove!” Steve shouted at Sodapop, who was pointing a wooden spoon at him.

“That was ONCE when I was SIX, Steven Lucas Randle!” Sodapop bit back, ouch, full name, never good.

“He’s done more stupid stuff if you want examples.” Ponyboy piped up from where he was curled up in the corner of the couch.

“See, Baby Horse agrees with me,” Steve said one of the rare times he’d side with the kid.

“What the hell did I walk into?” Darry groaned light-heartedly from the hallway.

There was a moment of tense silence where everybody turned to look at him. Though it only lasted a heartbeat, Darry still felt as though he could cut the tension with a knife.

“Civil war.” Said Johnny from the kitchen, finally. “We banished them for their foolishness and now they’re trying to reclaim their territory.” with that, the tension in the room eased.

Darry let out the breath he didn’t notice he was holding. “Hey Johnnycakes, how are you feeling?”

Johnny set the ladle back in the soup and trotted over to Darry, nobody said a word as the two looked at each other.

“I’m better.” Johnny looked a little nervous, tucking a stray strand of hair behind his ear. “Just…” He took a deep breath. “Had a bad day, so I overreacted.”

“Oh, Johnny, I was the one who overreacted,” Darry said softly, reaching out to Johnny to touch his shoulder, but staying his hand before he could out of fear the boy would flinch from his touch. “I’m so sorry.”

Johnny sighed, looking away. Darry could almost see the way his heartbeat in his chest. But then, he crossed the gap between them and pushed his forehead against Darry’s chest, wrapping his thin arms around the man.

Darry froze instantly, he was not expecting this at all. Before he could hesitate anymore, he wrapped Johnny up in his arms.

“I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry.” He kept whispering, feeling as though he would cry. Fuck, he couldn’t cry right here in front of everybody. In truth, Darry felt like he’d failed Johnny. He’d promised him over and over again that he’d keep him safe, then he’d gone and acted like the very person putting Johnny in danger.

He remembered Ponyboy’s face when he struck him that night and the misery that had come with knowing that he, his brother’s GUARDIAN for fucks sake, had just turned on him.

“I’ll do better,” Darry vowed into Johnny’s ear, voice soft and cracking with tears. “I promise.”

Johnny sighed shakily, pressing back. “I know, I’m not afraid of you I promise. You can act big n’ tough but you don’t scare me.”

Darry chuckled a little bit, only letting go when Johnny did. With that, the tension in the room was absolved.

“Hey teddy bear, dinners ready,” Sodapop called from the kitchen, and Darry sighed, feeling a weight lifted from his chest.

“Be right there to help, Pepsi-cola.”

#the outsiders #ollie writes #my writing #darry curtis #darrel curtis #johnny cade #ponyboy curtis #sodapop curtis #steve randle

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fallingappleshurt · 4 years ago

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Okay sooo, first fic in the fandom

Am very nervous about posting this but yeah!! Place holder type of thing while I work on my AU!! I’ve gone over this thing at least 7 times if there are errors I am just going to cry

Also this is all Platonic and Fanily dynamics!! Get outta here with your romance!!!

TW: Needles, descriptions of violence and injury (not too graphic), swearing

Phantoms and Bandaids

The group slowly stumbled down the street, moonlight gently washing over them. There was a soft breeze that cut through the humid air.

They hadn’t intended to get in a fight, it just kind of happened, they had lost track of time and before they knew it, it was dark and monsters were coming out. If you think about it, it was also the guards fault, who was slacking and missed the multiple mobs wandering around? That couldn’t have been just their fault.

They approached the little blue house on the end of the street, a pink haired boy looked it up and down, searching for signs of life, he sighed in relief when he spotted none.

“Good, Phil isn’t back yet,” He said, shoulders noticeably relaxing. One of the others adjusted his gray beanie, nodding in agreement.

“And just so everyone is clear, we were here, all night. Got it?” Wilbur looked between his brothers. Techno nodded, pink hair slipping in front of his eyes, Tommy just kept staring at the house, zoned.

“Tommy?” Wilbur asked sharply, snapping his fingers in front of the younger's face, ignoring the pain in his knuckles.

Tommy jumped, blinking a few times, “Oh, uh, yeah, sure!”

Wilbur raised an eyebrow, “Did you hear a word I just said?”

“Of course!”

“So what did I just say?”

Tommy’s face faltered for a moment, “Something about, sleeping?”

Wilbur sighed loudly, he heard Techno facepalm behind him.

“We have been here the whole night, right Tommy?”

“Yes! Absolutely! The whole night!”

Techno drug his hands down his face, “Can we go in already? Phil could get here any minute and I am too tired for a lecture.” He wrapped his hand around his shoulder, Wilbur couldn’t be sure but he thought he saw blood against the pink hoodie.

Deciding it was just an illusion from his tired brain, Wilbur nodded and reached into his pocket for the house key as they walked up to the door. He slowly turned the lock and pushed the door open, trying not to make any extra noise.

Together, they crept inside, locking the door again,trying not to fumble in the dark. They slipped off their shoes and stepped into the living room, eyes started to adjust to the darkness only for the lights to flick on all at once.

“And where have you three been?” Phil stood in the hallway that led to their rooms, arms crossed, looking annoyed.

Wilbur groaned loudly, slumping forwards while Techno glared at Tommy, “I thought you said he was working late!”

“I thought he was!” Tommy hissed back incredulously, “It’s not my fault!” Techno responded by slapping him upside the head.

“Hey!” Phil snapped, “Where were you three? It’s been four hours! It is passed curfew! You could have been arrested! Or worse!”

“We didn’t sneak out or anything, we were just hanging out in the woods and lost track of time and-”

“Tommy are you bleeding?” Phil interrupted Wilbur mid sentence but that wasn’t the biggest of his concerns at the moment.

“Wait what?” He whipped around to get a better look at Tommy who conveniently had his hand over his jaw.

“It’s-It’s nothing, just a little cut!” Tommy waved his hand dismissively, chuckling nervously.

Phil rolled his eyes and walked into their small kitchen, rummaging around for the first aid, upon finding it he pointed to a chair in the dining room.

“Sit.” His voice left no room for argument but that never stopped Tommy.

“Seriously Phil, It’s not that bad! It only stings a little, I’ll just sleep on it-Hey!” He yelped as Techno shoved him forwards.

“Stop trying to resist medical attention from the only person here who knows about it,”

Tommy grumbled something as he walked over and slumped in the chair, Phil sat next to him, already scrubbing the side of Tommy’s face with a wet washcloth.

Wilbur walked over to the sink to wash his hands, watching caked on blood seep down the drain, most of it wasn’t even his, most of it. His knuckles were the main issue, they were bruised and a few had split open and were bleeding sluggishly. He dried his hands and stepped towards the table where Phil and Tommy were.

Wilbur leaned on the counter, sighing, they had been so close. They should have come in through one of the bedroom windows.

His thoughts were interrupted by Tommy’s indignant squawking as Phil rubbed antibiotics on his cuts. He was putting a patch on the cut along Tommy’s jaw line when he pointed behind himself and snapped his fingers.

“Don’t even think about it, I’m checking all of you.” Wilbur looked back to see Techno step away from His and Tommy's bedroom door, looking weary, like he was trying to be annoyed but too tired at this point. The bags under his eyes were even more visible in the light, it made Wilbur’s stomach drop.

Techno had been the most prepared for the fight, even if the monsters had gotten the jump on them, he carried a dagger in a sheath on his leg. It wasn’t very big but it did more than Wilbur’s fists and Tommy’s pocket knife, Techno had also taken the brunt of the fight since most of Wilbur and Tommy’s ‘crime’ consisted more of thieving and petty threats, Techno was the fighting powerhouse of all the brothers, where he learned to do this was anybody’s guess.

“Okay, you should be good.” Phil said, leaning back in his chair as Tommy poked at the bandages. “Thanks Phil.”

Phil nodded then looked at Wilbur, “Wil, what’s going on with your hands?”

Wilbur shrugged, “It’s nothing much, just a few split knuckles,” he held out one hand for Phil to inspect, Phil turned his wrist over in his hand.

“It’s good you washed this, it’ll help prevent infection.” He pulled Wilbur over to where Tommy was sitting before, shifting through the kit he pulled out junior and extra long stripe bandaids and set them on the table before grabbing another cotton ball and covering it with antibiotics. He dabbed at the cuts on Wilbur’s hand,

“So, why were you all out so late?”

“We weren’t doing anything wrong!” Tommy interjected, “We were-” He was interrupted by Techno slapping his hand over his mouth.

“It is too late for you to be this loud, shut up.” Techno said calmly, other hand coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose then slowly lowering his hand from Tommy’s mouth, “Let Wilbur explain it.”

“Hang on,” Phil said, looking more frustrated, “Let me be grateful you are all still alive.” He closed his eyes and paused for a moment, then opened them.

“Okay continue.”

“He’s right,” Wilbur started only for Tommy to interject again.

“Ha! Told you Tec-”

“Tommy. Shut up.”

“We were just taking a walk in the woods and lost track of time. We might have got a little too close the wall, but to be fair some dumbass guard was not doing their job, and we got attacked by a bunch of monsters.” Wilbur explained.

Phil looked up from bandaging Wilbur’s hand and raised an eyebrow, “What kind of monsters?”

“Some zombies, a couple of skeletons, and like 5 phantoms, nothing too big. Only reason we got so scratched up is because we weren’t prepared.”

“And that’s supposed to make me feel better?” Phil asked, taking Wilbur’s other hand, starting the process over again.

“Sort of, I mean,” Wilbur trailed off, not sure what point he was trying to make.

“We wouldn’t have gotten as hurt if we had been more prepared, we know how to take care of ourselves in those situations we were just caught off guard. It’s good and bad.” Techno stated calmly, “It just depends on if you look at the good, the bad, or both.” He shrugged weirdly, one shoulder moving more than the other, Wilbur couldn’t tell if it was just his imagination or not but a hushed hiss from Tommy told him something was off.

Phil was still focused bandaging parts of Wilbur’s hand, missing the quiet argument between Tommy and Techno, he could only hear bits and pieces.

“It’s not that bad-”

“That is huge! It needs to be treated, Techno! That could make you sick if it-“

“Keep your voice down! Phil doesn’t need to worry about this, it’s not that big of a deal, I’ve had worse.”

“When?!”

“What the fuck is that?” Wilbur jumped, it had been a long time since he had heard Phil curse, then he saw the reason.

There were three tears on Techno’s hoodie, exposing his shoulder that had three matching gashes all seeping blood, staining the pink sleeve.

Both Techno and Tommy looked like a deer caught in headlights.

“It’s nothing, just a scratch,” Techno tried to throw up his normal facade of ‘I am in more control of the situation than you have been or ever will be’ but it was slipping, his eyes were drooping, hands and voice shaking ever so slightly.

“Just a scratch?!” Phil snapped incredulously, “People have come into the nurses station for less than that! This needs to be treated right now!” Phil grabbed Techno’s wrist and pulled him to the chair, Wilbur switched places with him.

“Take off your hoodie and roll up your sleeve,” Phil instructed as he wrung out the wash cloth and pulled more cotton balls from the kit.

Techno groaned but did as he was told with slow, calculated, movements as to not jar his wound. He gingerly rolled up his T-shirt sleeve. Phil moved quickly, his usual calm and precise fingers shaking as he shoved his supplies around the table.

This was the first time Wilbur saw the scratches in the light, and it was horrible.

The cuts were narrow but long and deep, covering half of his shoulder, still trickling blood.The skin around the cuts was red and swolllen. Phil looked at the wound, grimacing, before he could speak Tommy shouted;

“Oh my God! It’s even worse! Techno you idiot! You’re yelling at me, at me, to get checked by Phil when you have this!” He gestured frantically at Techno’s arm.

“When- When did this even happen?” Wilbur asked, hand in his hair, “We were all watching each other’s backs!”

“Towards the beginning of the fight, right after the zombies got the jump on us,” Techno explained, wincing as Phil scrubbed at the cuts.

“How did I not notice this?” Wilbur asked, chest tightening.

“I’m stealthier than you, not as loud as Tommy, and it’s dark so it was hard to notice, don’t blame yourself.”

They sat in silence for what seemed like forever when Phil swore under his breath.

“Some of these are going to need stitches.”

Wilbur paused, he knew Techno hated needles, he never knew the reason, just that he hated needles.

That got Techno’s attention, he jerked his arm away, eyes widening slightly. “What? No, no way. It’s not that bad.” He started to stand up.

“Not that bad? Tech, those are gonna get infected!” Wilbur said, subconsciously moving to block him, making sure Techno couldn’t bolt like he would when they were younger.

“Wilbur is right, I need to treat those right now.” Phil rested his hand on Techno’s wrist. Techno shook his head, “No.”

“Techno you stubborn son of a bitch! Just get the stitches!” Tommy said, throwing his hands out.

“Shut up Tommy!”

“Oh do you wanna go, pink man? Cause-”

“Both of you calm down!” Wilbur snapped, putting a hand on Tommy’s chest, pushing him back. “This isn’t helping anybody! Both of you sit down! Tech, I know you don’t like needles but this needs to be done, it’ll only hurt for a minute then you’ll be-”

“Don’t patronize me,” Techno huffed, sitting back down, letting Phil inspect his arm.

Wilbur just shook his head in response, glad he didn’t have to make up more shit on the fly.

“Good news is, only one of them needs stitches, bad news, it’s the biggest scratch,”

Techno groaned, putting his head in his free hand, “Of course, let's just get this over.”

Wilbur watched as Phil sterilized and threaded the needle, shifting in his seat to get a better look at Techno’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry I don’t have any meds to numb your arm, bud.”

“Please don’t talk about it, just do the stabbing or whatever.” He responded, still not looking up. Phil rolled his eyes fondly.

Wilbur could only watch them for so long, Techno still had his hand over half of his face, only showing his mouth. Which was pinched in a tight line, his other hand was balled in a fist, knuckles white, shaking faintly.

He had to turn away when Phil got higher up on the cut where the skin was more tender, causing Techno to gasp and bite his lip. He was shaking.

Wilbur turned and went to sit over on the couch next to Tommy, who was watching some stupid show on their rinky-dink TV.

“Though you were gonna go to sleep,” Wilbur commented, flopping down next to him, he blinked sluggishly and shrugged.

“Just waiting to make sure Techno is okay, besides he’d have to come into our room at some point. He’d probably wake me up with his big feet tripping over everything, so it’s just easier to wait for him.”

Wilbur chuckled softly, he knew the main reason was he wanted to make sure Techno was okay, it was the same reason Wilbur himself was still awake.

About ten minutes into the crappy TV program Wilbur got up to use the bathroom. He took a moment to breathe and think about what the hell even happened, maybe more than a minute. He splashed some water on his face before heading back to the living room. When he got there he saw Techno had taken his place next to Tommy, who was resting his head on Techno’s shoulder and Techno rested his head on Tommy’s. Wilbur could see bandages peeking through the rips in Tech’s sleeves.

Phil sat next to Techno, an arm wrapped around him, his hand reached over,brushing the back of Tommy’s neck. Phil didn’t seem as angry now, just at peace, like someone had taken the fight out of him.Wilbur rolled his eyes and sat next to Phil, who automatically put an arm around him, he leaned on him and closed his eyes, mumbling;

“Thanks Phil, I promise we’ll be more careful next time,”

Phil chuckled lightly, “There won’t be a next time a long while. You are all grounded.”

Wilbur grumbled, shifting slightly, “Are you serious? We weren’t trying to be late or worry you-”

“We’ll talk about it more in the morning, go to sleep.”

He sighed, pulling his beanie over his eyes, slowly drifting off in the embrace of his brothers.

(There it is! I am very nervous about posting it but whatever! And this ISNT part of my AU, at least I don’t plan on it being. If there are any spelling or grammar errors that’s on me, I’m a fool and most likely dyslexic)

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rubykgrant · 4 years ago

Text

OK, here is the text from the sad good-bye angst post, so hopefully it will be easier to read (and also, fixed some of my typos)

To Caboose-

Hey, Caboose… you know how you think you’re my “best friend”? Well, you’re not. You are more like… like the baby brother I kept asking my parents for, but then when I finally got you, I was just really annoyed because you were always in my space and breaking all my stuff, and I would get sick of you… but then one day, something happens, like you swallow a rock or whatever and start to choke, and then I save you, and I learn a lesson about how much I actually care about you. I wish I could have actually, y’know, acted like a real big brother. I could have showed you how to do stuff, taught you stuff, shared stuff with you… I’m sorry I didn’t. I wish I hadn’t yelled at you all the time… I still have no idea why you even liked me so much, I’m a jerk! You were always nice, though. I don’t know, maybe if I actually paid attention to what you said more often, then I would have been able to figure some stuff out, too. Just remember, you’ve still got a lot of people around you who can help you figure stuff out, and even more importantly; you can help them too. You understand some stuff better than anybody else, you figure things out before the rest of us, and they need you Caboose. I know you’re gonna be OK. You’re all gonna be OK. So, don’t be sad. I’m… I’m proud of you… little bro

To Tucker-

Tucker… man, YOU are my best friend. Seriously. Sometimes, when we weren’t hanging out together for whatever stupid nonsense reason, I’d see something and think to myself “I gotta remember to tell Tucker about that”. I’d imagine a whole conversation in my head, and then when I finally saw you again, y’know what would happen? You’d say EXACTLY what I thought you would! You know what else? I still didn’t get bored talking to you. I know it sucked and we didn’t stop complaining about it the whole time, but honestly… when we were just stuck there on Blood Gulch, you and me, talking to each other… that is still one of my favorite memories. I mean, I hated it at the time, but if I had to be stuck anywhere, on a loop… well, anyway. Tucker, I want to tell you something. I know you really well buddy, so I KNOW you feel like people are putting a lot of pressure on you, and I know you’re afraid of messing up, so you probably want to go back to when you didn’t have to try so hard, and then that back-fires because it MAKES you mess up. You don’t have to be perfect, Tucker. Nobody is. It is totally OK to mess up sometimes… but it is OK to actually TRY, too. Don’t stop trying, because… because you really do some amazing things. You’re important, Tucker. Now, go have a beer for me! Also, if it helps… think about me, sometimes. I bet you’d know exactly what I’d say if I was still there

To Donut-

Donut, you are like, my favorite guy over there on the Reds. I bet you didn’t think I liked you at all, considering the whole… “grenade incident” with my girlfriend, but hey- we were all extra stupid back then, huh? Nobody knew what was going on, and we sure weren’t making very good decisions. If Tex had gotten to know you, outside of all the BS we kept getting sucked into, I think she would’ve thought you were OK too. It… it really would have been great if things could have happened that way, if everybody could have just gotten to take a break from all the life-and-death situations, and had a chance to just hang out and chill. We all could use a vacation, but you definitely deserve one. You’ve got a big heart Donut, and even on the worst days, you were somehow still up-beat, trying to stay positive… I guess you kinda get over-looked a lot, but if you weren’t around, things wouldn’t be the same. Don’t stop looking on the bright side. Because you… you kinda ARE the bright side, Donut

To Grif-

Grif, I know pretty much all the crap that has happened to us is… basically my fault. So first of all, sorry man. Believe me, if I could go back and fix everything, I would. Then, maybe you wouldn’t have to get dragged half-way across the galaxy and back. You might be the only one who just wants to sit down and not deal with these stupid problems MORE than ME, and I don’t blame you. In fact, you got the right idea… I mean, what are your favorite things? Eating, taking a nap? Well, good for you! Those are normal things for somebody to want! Heck, those are things people NEED to do. If you don’t eat and don’t sleep, you die. I don’t think you’re lazy Grif, you just want to live long enough to enjoy life and relax. You are… probably the most down-to-earth out of everybody. If you weren’t around to complain, they’d all forget to sit down once in a while, or have a snack. You’re the anchor Grif, not because you hold them back, but because you keep them grounded. So, tell them to shut up and have a pizza party or something!

To Simmons-

Remember waaaay back, when you uh… when you were pretending to be a new Blue guy, and I was sort of “introducing you” to who was on the Red team? Remember how I kinda talked some crap about “a guy named Simmons”? Yeah, I knew that was you. I was just trying to mess with you, which I maybe shouldn’t have done… because I maybe have a problem with being an a-hole… and you didn’t really deserve that. So, yeah, um, I apologize. Besides, I didn’t mean it. You ARE smart, but that isn’t all. Simmons, you’re like… clever, and creative. Not just with “nerdy stuff”, you just… you know a LOT of things, and I bet if your guys actually listened to what you said, you would’ve gotten a lot more done. I bet that gets pretty damn frustrating, because you KNOW you aren’t stupid, and you just want to help, but you just kinda get pushed off to the side. That is why it is actually pretty cool, how you always keep on trying to make stuff happen. You keep trying to help. Actually, I think you really do make a lot of stuff happen, you just don’t always see it… I think you also don’t see the fact that we all actually like you, dude. I mean, I’m an a-hole, and I still like you. Your peachy-pumpkin buddy complains about you, but he also likes you. Don’t ever shut up Simmons, everybody needs to hear what you’ve got to say, and they’d miss talking to you on top of that

To Sarge-

Sarge, as somebody who also yells about the stuff he hates… I know there’s no way you actually hate everything so much. I mean, if you didn’t care about the people around you, would you even bother yelling so much? I doubt it. Um, as somebody who also has a problem with the whole “emotional honesty” thing… I can tell you, it’ll eventually get old. Not saying what you really think, not telling people how you really feel… it gets old. Everybody who has to deal with you will get sick of it, and then you’ll get sick of yourself. Once again, as somebody who maybe kinda sorta dislikes himself… that isn’t a way to be. It gets really old, really fast. Haha, and you ain’t THAT old yet, are you Sarge? So, trust me, don’t waste your time pretending to hate everything, and DEFINITELY don’t wait until the last minute to tell somebody what they really mean to you. It is way better to just talk to people so they know you actually appreciate them… and then stick around for whatever happens after. It can be pretty embarrassing, but you’re a tough guy. You can handle it

To Doc-

Doc, I don’t know why you never just ditched us, because we are basically like… a hydra made out of headache. When you think you stopped one moron, two more show up, and the headache gets more intense. You didn’t deserve this headache… or the headache that tried to literally take-over your body. Has anybody even told you how crazy it is, the fact that you got infected with an AI made of pure rage, and even that couldn’t stop you from being a nice guy at your core? I can’t even imagine how messed that must have been, you didn’t even know what was happening, there was this voice in your head that also hi-jacked your REAL voice, and it wanted to do was cause problems… but you wanted to fix problems. No matter how strong that AI thought it was, you were stronger. You are all about being… kind, and gentle, and peaceful… the rage inside that AI couldn’t kill that part of you. You are a lot tougher than people give you credit for. I wouldn’t blame you if you ever did just want to ditch everybody… but I think they really do like having you with them. They just don’t know it, because we all get too up in our own heads, and we forget about the fact that we aren’t just individuals dealing with dangerous crap… the guy next to us is dealing with it, too. You deserve more attention, Doc. You deserve to ask for help, and actually GET help. You don’t have to be the one that fixes everything. Remind everybody that they need to take care of you, too

To Lopez-

I feel like I should just say “sorry” about a thousand times in a row. I mean, you’ve been getting thrashed around since day one, you never got a break, and on top of that, nobody bothered to try and understand you. Well, I know YOU can understand ME, Lopez. I don’t have time for all the apologies you deserve, but I do want to say something… thank you. Thanks for putting up with everything, over and over again. You didn’t have to, but you did. Oh sure, you’re a “robot”, and most people would assume that means you have to follow orders and do what humans tell you… but hey, from one artificial intelligence to another? We both know that is BS. Despite how exhausting it is to give a damn about this group of clowns, it is even harder to stop giving a damn about them. If anybody ever wants to argue a case for robotic rights, you are a prime example of free will AND the fact that there are ghosts in the machines… I don’t mean like me, I mean like whatever the heck it is that makes emotions happen, and how there is something that makes us ignore logic and reason, just to do the right thing. I think that is part of being human… but it is also part of being alive. You aren’t a human, but you don’t need to be. You’re already a better person than half the a-holes I’ve met in my… very messed-up life. Oh, and Lopez! I bet if you like, drew a crying frowny face on a sticky-note and stuck it to your helmet, everybody would finally get a clue

To Wash-

Wash, I… I’m not sure how to even say this… I am so, so sorry. I am so damn SORRY. Part of me hurt you… when you first got implanted with Epsilon, it almost destroyed you. I didn’t even realize this until I got my own memories sorted out, but when that AI first linked-up with you, that part of me… sort of shared YOUR memories, too. I never knew how to bring it, because how do you start THAT conversation? “Hey man, I know who your favorite Care Bear is” or “Dude, remember your cat Loki?”. Yeah, no. I wish we could’ve gotten to actually know each other NOW, with me being more like who I actually am, or at least what I feel like is the real me. Maybe then we could’ve talked, and I could’ve apologized, and I could’ve told you that… you’re OK, Wash. I still feel kinda guilty, I know how you think and feel, but I only know that because my most painful memories got shoved into your head. What I mean is, this feels like I know a secret, but you didn’t want to tell me… well, now you know I know, and I hope you can forgive me. Oh, and for real, don’t be so afraid to be a dork! I know you felt like the reject in the Freelancer group, but come on! Look at who you’re with now! Let them make you laugh. Let them talk you into doing stupid stuff. Go be a goofball. Make them watch Care Bears with you. Now, seriously, do that. It’ll be hilarious!

To Carolina-

I thought maybe… if I saved you for last, it would be easier… but it really isn’t. How do I even EXPLAIN, how I feel? I went through… a LOT of crap. I got manipulated, tortured, used as a weapon, forced to hurt people, torn apart and put back together again. I hated most of my life… and you know what? I’d still go through it all again, knowing I’d eventually meet this group of weirdos, and knowing that I’d eventually meet YOU. I doubt I’m what most people would consider a “father figure”, and honestly the idea of being in charge of keeping a very small person alive scares the heck out of me, but um, I- I guess, uh… aw, whatever, I wish I could have been there for you when you needed a dad. I’m sure I would’ve sucked, but if nothing else, I wouldn’t have just stood back and watched while you half-way killed yourself trying to prove yourself. You’ve got nothing to prove, Carolina. You also don’t need to keep hating yourself, either. I know you’re carrying around all the guilt for every mistake you every made, and I know you can’t just forget about it… but PLEASE, don’t go and half-way kill yourself because you think you need to be punished somehow. Everybody does bad things, some worse than others, but that doesn’t mean you are going to be nothing but a bad person forever. I also want to say… if she… if she had known… Carolina, if Tex had realized who SHE was and who YOU were before everything went to hell… if things had been different, you two would have gotten along. No, more than that… she would have loved you, Carolina. Your mother always did, but Tex would have too, just from getting to know you. As a person, daughter or not, she would have loved you. I think maybe… that was why she kept trying so hard, every time she got brought back. She didn’t have a choice about being there, but once she was, there was something inside her that kept telling her she had something important to do… but she forgot what it was. Allison wanted to come back to you. She wanted to get back to her daughter. That was her real failure, dying before she could see you again. I wish she could have, just once… and I’m so glad I got to know you, just for a while. It wasn’t long enough. Carolina, you’ve been through a lot. You’ve lost two families, your parents and your friends from the Freelancer program… but you aren’t alone anymore. You’ve got a new family now, and they are a tough bunch to get rid of! I mean it, you are stuck with them now. If I can give one line of “fatherly advice”, it is this… show them who’s boss. Are they acting crazy> You act crazier! Are they being annoying? You show them they don’t even know the MEANING of annoying! Remember, you are the BEST, Carolina. So, be the best at being a problem. Living with them is like a game, and if you try to be the only one with brain cells, you’re gonna lose. Haha… man, this is already too much, I didn’t mean to ramble so long… I guess I feel like… I feel like if I just keep talking… if I just keep TALKING, then this won’t have to end, it won’t be over, I won’t have to… I guess I just have to say it, don’t I? OK, OK… I love you, Carolina. Good-bye

#text #my writing #red vs blue #rvb #michael j caboose #lavernius tucker #franklin delano donut #dexter grif #dick simmons #sarge #lopez the heavy #doc dufresne #agent washington #agent carolina #leonard church

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neon-junkie · 4 years ago

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Could I request a Micah Angsty oneshot where his high honour s/o sacrifices themselves for him? Maybe angry dad Hosea and Arthur when he comes back to camp?

sorry this is a lil short!! gender neutral reader, and fics under the cut as theres death involved (obviously lol)

my followers: please rat, please not another micah fic, please.

me: hehehe but this ones angsty

It all happened so fast. Within a heartbeat, a blink of an eye, a short and quick breath. The bullet tore through you and everything went black, like the lights were suddenly flicked off. Micah saw your body hit the ground and in that moment, he knew that you were gone.

You'd seen an enemy appear from behind, aiming for Micah and firing their gun. As you shot them back, you rode behind Micah, blocking the bullet with your own body. Your corpse slumped off your horse, lifeless by the time it hit the dirt.

Your passing made his blood boil. He felt sick, ready to vomit at any moment. He was quick to kill the remaining enemies, shouting as he did so, screaming and cursing them for ending you. Micah practically jumped off Baylock, quickly holstering his guns as he scurried over to you.

"No... No, darlin', c'mon," Micah muttered as he rolled your body over. He jumped to his feet in shock when he confirmed that you were gone. Micah screamed, stomping around, kicking the enemy's bodies as he tried to walk his anger off. He couldn't burn it off, no matter how many times he kicked them, no matter how many extra bullets he shot into their corpses. It wasn't going to bring you back.

Tears were streaming down his already puffy eyes as he went back over to you, sitting on his knees as he cradled you in his arms, sobbing into you. "Please..." he muttered over and over, asking whatever superior power that's in the sky to bring you back. "You shouldn't have done that, sweetheart," he tells you, his hands kneading the fabric of your shirt, clinging onto you.

Micah's list of priorities now shuffled back down to three - Baylock, his guns, and himself. He had always held you at his highest, still in shock that an angel like you was so sweet on a devil like him.

Through his tears, he could see the ring on your finger. He was so close to making you his, just days away from saying that wholesome "I do" line. He once swore that he'd never get soft on anybody, that all he needed was himself, but you turned him into mush when you first met.

Micah continued sobbing into you, the voice in the back of his head screaming at him to get a move on. He needed to get out of there fast. This commotion happened far too close to town and the law was definitely on the way. Micah, with tears still flooding from his eyes, picked up your body, managing to mount Baylock with you in his arms. He holds onto you like a mother holds their baby, cradling you against him as he rode away, your horse following him.

By the time evening arrived, Micah had picked out a nice spot for you to lay. He felt sick as he dug your grave, shivering at the thought of your corpse lying a few meters away. Before he laid you into the ground, he took your wedding ring that he had stowed in his saddlebags, so eager for that day to come. The pair were one of the few things he had ever paid for. His heart ached as he placed the ring on your finger, just above your engagement ring that he couldn't bear to remove.

Micah laid you to rest, deciding he would pick out a nice headstone for you when he came to visit you next. He was shaking, wanting to vomit but nothing would come up. His beard had been washed many times over from the tears that wouldn't stop streaming from his eyes, the taste of salt fresh on his lips.

Micah took his bedroll from Baylock, lying it beside your grave as he laid next to you, wallowing in despair as he tried to come to terms with the fact that you were gone.

Why did you sacrifice yourself for him? Micah asks the question over and over. He'd been raised to know how cruel and cynical this world was, but to have this happen to him made him shake. He lay beside you for hours, thinking, beating himself up for being the cause of your death. He wasn't, but he felt certain he was, despite knowing that this is what you wanted. He thought of every split second where he could have saved you, or just not taken you with him in the first place. If only he saw that enemy approaching, then you'd be here right now.

You'd been riding with Micah for so long. You knew the risk of your chosen lifestyle, you knew that you'd die from a bullet one day, but neither of you expected that day to come so soon. Especially not with your wedding around the corner.

He eventually cries himself to sleep, his body practically passing out from exhaustion. Micah's drained. His heart is empty and shattered. He spends the next day beside you, eventually forcing himself up and deciding to return to camp in the evening.

Micah takes his time returning to camp, his stomach rumbling but he doesn't have the energy nor appetite to eat. He looks worn down, his eyes are heavy and empty, and he barely has the energy to stand or ride.

Micah arrives, your horse and their empty saddle following behind. It's normal to have members trail in and out of camp, but everybody's attention is drawn to your empty horse. That sight was definitely not normal.

Arthur's quick to his feet, storming through the camp. "Where's (Y/N)?" Arthur asks as he approaches Micah. Micah avoids looking at him as he dismounts, trying to walk away.

"They're gone," Micah bluntly tells him, head down as he walks. Arthur grabs him by the scruff of his shirt.

"You mean they've been killed?" Arthur grits his teeth. Micah swats Arthur's hand away, attempting to walk away again but Arthur's right on his tail.

"Yes. That's what gone means," Micah tells him.

"What'd you do, Micah?" Arthur asks.

"I didn't do anything."

"Of course you fucking didn't. That why they're dead!"

Micah stops, snapping his head around at that remark. He see's red, his blood reaching boiling point.

"Don't you talk to me like that, Morgan. You don't know the circumstances," Micah tells him, trying to push him away.

"Well, I know you fucked up and got 'em killed, and that's enough for me," Arthur shakes his head as he squares up to Micah, the two of them ready to scrap.

"You have no idea on what you're talking about. You weren't there. It ain't my fault, Morgan," Micah spits back. All he wants is some time alone but there's no way he's getting that soon.

"This is your fucking fault! Dutch is gonna have your head when he hears about this," Arthur spat at him, the sound of his voice echoing for miles. Micah pushes him away. Arthur's about to swing for him until the camp's grandpa gets involved, trying to break this commotion up.

"Enough!" Hosea says as he approaches, his hands resting on both of their chests as he pushes them away from each other. "The two of you, stop this foolishness. Arguments won't bring our dear (Y/N) back."

Hosea ensure's there a few meter distance from the two of them, physically dragging them away from each other. The two of them are still alert, staring each other down like two bucks waiting to smash their antlers.

"Mister Bell, how did this happen?" Hosea asks.

"They were shot when we bumped into a couple of our friends, the O'Driscolls," Micah tells him, his eyes still on Arthur. Hosea notices this and moves so he's blocking Arthur from Micah's line of sight, drawing Micah's attention to him.

"And the body?"

"Buried."

"And why couldn't you save them?" Hosea asks with a tint of frustration to his voice. Micah rolls his eyes, raising his arms out, sighing.

"Because they jumped in the way to save me," he states. Arthur and Hosea take a step back, shaking at the idea that you had sacrificed yourself for this man. "I don't understand why I'm being attacked here, I did what I could, now leave me be, would ya?" Micah turns heel and starts walking away.

"It should have been you!" Arthur shouts at him. Micah mutters 'I know' under his breath as leaves the camp.

This time, he manages to get away. Arthur goes to follow him but Hosea is quick to stop him, telling Arthur to give him some time alone.

"Hosea," Arthur says.

"I know, Arthur. We'll let Dutch handle this," Hosea tells him, placing his arm on Arthurs back as he urges the larger man to walk back to camp with him.

Micah storms out of the camp, finding a spot in the forest to wallow for a while. He leans against a tree, letting out a deep sigh as he allows himself to start crying again. His body feels exhausted, begging for rest from all this mourning.

Micah spends hours by himself, thinking, crying, aching to have you back. He reaches into his pocket, taking out his wedding ring. Micah places the ring on his finger, staring at it. His thumb rubs over it, twiddling the gold ring as he gets used to the feeling of it. Being a married man was never on his list of life goals, but he classes himself as one now.

He vows to keep this ring on for as long as he lives, he'll take it to the grave with him too, hopefully finding you in another life.

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hamiltalian-creates · 4 years ago

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Oo!! I wish you would write a fic where... (ask thingy) Logan is totally oblivious to Remus’s attempts to score a boyfriend. He thinks that remus is just being impulsive and saying random sexual stuff at him when really Remus is trying to gain the other’s attention! Also hi!!

Hi, CJ! Thanks for the idea, I’m glad we’re on the same Intrulogical brainwave lol

Words: 3,424

Warnings: Remus being Remus

Remus was weird. All of the sides and Thomas himself knew it and acknowledged it and Remus wore the word like a bad Christmas sweater, but, lately, he’d been acting weirder than Logan would’ve expected from him. For the latest example, Logan was just trying to go about his day and get some reading done in the living room when Remus sat beside him and pulled him into his lap and began speaking.

“So, Logan, how does this sound: You and me, my side of the imagination, 8 o’clock tonight, anything you want.”

Logan hummed in thought as he skimmed the page for where he’d lost the his place once Remus had jostled him. “I’m not in the mood for a hookup, but thank you for the offer.”

Remus pouted, but he wasn’t one to give up that quickly. “Alright, no sex. How about now?”

“I’m busy at the moment. I’d rather finish this book uninterrupted.”

Remus huffed and moved to get up, stopping as Logan grabbed his shoulder.

“At least move me more carefully, I am reading.”

Were it any other side, Remus would’ve just stood up and let him fall to the floor with a satisfying thump and maybe even a nice snap or crack, but this was Logan. Remus wanted to date him and Logan had to like him for that to happen. So, he carefully lifted Logan out of his lap and stood up before placing him back onto the couch, patting his head as he set him down.

Logan nodded. “Thank you.”

But that wasn’t the last of Remus’s exceptionally weird moments with Logan.

Just the next morning, as Logan was making himself a healthy, balanced breakfast of biscuits and jam, hold the biscuits, Remus strolled in and smacked Logan’s behind, an action that Logan was pretty used to by then.

“How about some hang time in the library after breakfast?” Remus asked. “You might have to wait a while for me though, I’m getting hungry from staring at an absolute snack.”

Logan looked down at his jar of jam and then back up at Remus before handing it to him. “It is quite a delicious treat. And I’ll have to pass on the library, ‘hanging’ doesn’t sound very fun.”

Okay, that one was Remus’s fault, bad choice of words. “I mean, like, hanging out,” he clarified, dipping two fingers into the jar of jam and scooping some out before eating it.

“Hanging anywhere sounds uncomfortable. Keep the jar, I have plenty more.” Logan went over to a locked cabinet and pulled the key out from his pocket, unlocking and opening the door to reveal that the entire cabinet had been filled with jars of various Crofters jams.

“That’s quite the collection there.”

Logan shrugged and selected a jar before closing and locking the cabinet again. “I keep the bare minimum, I don’t want to take up too much kitchen space.”

Remus nodded as he watched Logan leave. That nerd really was obsessed with Crofters jams... Maybe he could use that to his advantage. Remus began grinning as he had a brilliant idea.

Logan went a surprisingly short time before having another run in with Remus and his stranger than usual activities, though this one almost made him laugh. Of course, laughing would’ve been a sign that Logan actually felt that Remus’s stunt was funny and, as someone who didn’t feel, that couldn’t happen.

As Logan came out for his afternoon jar of Crofters, Remus was waiting in the kitchen, facing the counters until he heard Logan walk in.

“Hello, Nerdilocks,” Remus greeted as he turned around, showing Logan the newest addition to his usual outfit.

Logan wouldn’t have looked down at his crotch to see it were it not for the fact that it was hard to ignore the large, white writing on his black pants that read “Open here for Crofters” and the large white arrow pointing right at his, thankfully hidden, penis. He took a deep breath as he read it, trying not to let himself show even a hint of the entertainment he felt seeing that.

Remus grinned proudly as he noticed Logan’s lips twitch just the tiniest amount and looked down at his outfit’s new addition before looking back up at Logan. “What do you think?”

“I think that somebody else might find that hilarious and I appreciate your attempt at making me laugh.”

Remus bounced on his toes and inwardly cheered. “Are you taking the offer? I know you’re here for your afternoon Crofters.”

Logan shook his head and went over to his hoarding cabinet. “I’m here for a jar of the brand of jam called Crofters, I’m not currently interested in your penis, which, I assume, you have nicknamed ‘Crofters’.”

“Okay, but what if I told you that my dick is literally covered in Crofters jam right now and you have the opportunity to taste it and guess the flavor yourself?”

Logan stared at him for a few seconds, wondering if he was serious before realizing that he absolutely was. “Then I’d say that I really admire your persistence and your dedication to this series of practical jokes you’re playing on me. And... I honestly wonder what that feels like.” Logan had absolutely no intention of doing such a thing, but to say he wasn’t curious would’ve been a lie and he wasn’t Janus.

Remus swooned, Logan’s sense of curiosity being the main thing that drove his attraction to the nerd. “It’s sticky and gross, just like we could be if you say yes.”

“As much as I love Crofters, I wouldn’t particularly enjoyed being covered in it. But I appreciate the offer, I suppose that would sound like an appealing activity to you, so I’ll take that as a good thing.” He grabbed two jars from his cabinet, giving one to Remus before grabbing a spoon and leaving with his own jar.

Remus waited until he left before groaning in frustration and going to take a shower. As much as he loved the warm, wet, sticky feeling that he was getting from the jelly that was covering his dick, it reminded him all too much of how he felt on the nights when he’d wake up after dreaming about Logan.

While he was in the shower, he decided to take advantage of the thought and daydream about those situations with Logan, hoping the post nut clarity would help lead him in the right path here.

And it did!

Remus snapped his eyes open and made quick work of scrubbing himself clean before throwing on a quick outfit and dashing over to Janus’s room. He was a nerd, just like Logan, and he was smart! He’d know what to do!

Remus stormed through his door and jumped onto the bed, where he had been reading peacefully. “Janus! I need your advice!”

“And I need a day to go by where I can actually relax,” Janus grumbled as he marked his place in his book and put it down. He was annoyed by Remus’s interruption, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to help him.

“I need help asking Logan out.”

Ah, yes, Remus’s very obvious crush on Logan. For such a smart guy, Logan was so stupid when it came to realizing that Remus had a huge crush on him. Then again, most people didn’t express their affection by saying that they’d want to rip your head off and place it on their nightstand. Janus supposed that it was just years of living with Remus that made it feel obvious that that was Remus’s way of saying that he wanted to wake up to Logan’s face everyday. “Maybe try speaking a bit more his language.”

“I already tried slathering my dick in Crofters and he didn’t even want to taste and guess the flavor!”

Janus wished he wasn’t surprised by that, but Logan did have a pretty unhealthy obsession with the stuff. “That’s not what I meant. I meant try being straightforward. Tell him in very plain words that you want to go on a date with him or fuck him or whatever it is that you do.”

Remus paused for a second and sat up, a dumbstruck look on his face. After a few more seconds, he smacked his forehead, looking absolutely enlightened. “Why didn’t I think of that?!”

Janus shrugged. “You and Logan have a lot in common and one of those things is that you’re both incredibly smart and, at the same time, incredibly stupid.”

Remus nodded for a second before looking at his friend with a grin. “You think we have things in common?”

“Get out of my room and go get a boyfriend.”

“Thanks, Jay!” Remus hopped up and ran out of the room, going to work on his latest plot: properly asking Logan out.

It took him a few days to come up with a plan and, as he did, Logan grew confused. Remus had been so friendly with him, talking to him everyday and constantly touching him, that seeing Remus just kind of vanish was almost worrying, except he didn’t worry. Remus was a grown man and a figment of the imagination, it wasn’t like he could’ve gotten hurt. The more likely answer was that he’d gotten sick of Logan’s lack of response to his actions and moved on to the next side.

Now, as the logical side, he may have put up a show of not being able to feel, but, unfortunately, Thomas didn’t allow him such a luxury and he was stuck with the burden that was human emotion, figment of the imagination or otherwise. And, currently, his emotions surrounding the idea of Remus going to find another side to mess with just because he wasn’t particularly responsive were anything but positive. There was sadness, a hint of anger, and a fair amount of jealousy that he especially wouldn’t want anybody to know about. After all, Logan already got picked on for the things he liked when they were philosophy, psychology, and astronomy. Who knew how the rest of the sides would react when one of the things he liked was Remus.

Fortunately for them and unfortunately for him, it seemed pretty clear that Remus had no interest in him, at least not in that fashion. Remus was just impulsive and there was a very high probability that he was sexual and touchy with everyone, so it wasn’t like he treated Logan any differently from his rest. And this was Remus he was thinking about here, Remus of all sides, would’ve made it the most obvious if he had a crush on him, even more obvious than Roman, as insanely open and honest as Remus was. Not to mention, Remus probably wouldn’t have stopped talking to Logan if he actually liked him.

So, all that was left to do was for Logan to start on the process of forgetting about his stupid crush. It wouldn’t have worked out, anyways. Remus got bored of him as a friend after a few weeks, there was no doubt in Logan’s mind that he would’ve gotten bored of him as a partner or boyfriend even faster.

Fortunately, with all of the practice he’d had, it wasn’t hard for Logan to hide how hurt he was by Remus’s absence. He went about his day as if nothing had changed whatsoever and attempted to enjoy a peaceful day, something he wasn't particularly used to anymore.

Thankfully, it seemed like he wasn’t going to have to put up with that kind of order for very long.

A few days into getting used to Remus’s absence, Logan was grabbing a jar of Crofters for his afternoon snack, fighting the urge to grab a second for a side who wasn’t even there, when he was interrupted by said side’s voice.

“Logan!” Remus called out as he stepped into the kitchen, hiding his hands behind his back. “I’m glad to see you here, I have to talk to you.”

Logan stood up and looked back at him, his jelly collection briefly forgotten. “Remus. I haven’t really heard from you in a few days...”

Aww, he noticed. Remus beamed and nodded. “Yeah, sorry about that, but I’ve been trying to figure out how to talk to you!”

Here it was. Remus was going to say he didn’t want to hang out with him anymore. “What is it?” Logan asked warily.

Remus stepped forward and shoved a bouquet of a variety of flowers in Logan’s face. “Here! I didn’t know what kind you liked, so I brought you some of everything.”

Logan blinked a few times, surprised, before hesitantly taking the flowers.

“Don’t be so scared, there’s nothing dangerous there. Except for the thorny roses, but nothing too crazy,” he said with a shrug, smiling as Logan started analyzing the flowers.

“Thank you... These are really nice. Um... May I ask what they’re for? It’s not a holiday or my birthday or anything.”

Remus put his hands over Logan’s, glad that he’d arranged the flowers so that the few roses were in the middle, unable to stab Logan’s hands. He was too excited to not grip Logan’s hands as tight as he could. “I had a special question to ask you! Would you like to go out with me?”

“Go out?...” Logan asked slowly, putting the pieces together as he looked between his and Remus’s hands and the flowers enclosed in them and the bright blush on Remus’s face as he beamed. “You mean... Like on a romantic outing? Forgive me if I’m wrong, that’s just the context that is usually meant by the phrase ‘going out,’ at least to my knowledge. Unless you’re asking me to go out with you as in die in a fiery explosion and these are a sample of the flowers that you’ll leave to be left in my grave?” It was an unconventional use of the phrase in comparison, but it was more likely in this scenario, considering that it was Remus he was talking to.

Remus cackled and shook his head. “No, Logan, I would like to go on a romantic outing with you. If you are interested, I would like to partake in a romantic relationship with you and I’ve been trying to ask for a while now. It’s kind of my fault for forgetting how crazy literal, but oh my god, you’re really stupid literal.”

Logan laughed awkwardly and nodded. “Yeah.. That’s kind of your fault, you’re so straightforward that I can’t help but to take everything you say literally... And you’re so straightforward that I almost think you’re serious right now.”

“Uh, I am always very serious,” Remus responded, feigning offense before grinning again. “I am serious, I want to date you! You’re smart and cool and you’re curious enough to not be afraid of everything I say and I don’t like that you’re helping Thomas not be scared of me, but I love that you’re helping him not be scared of me. I really, really want to be your boyfriend and I can’t believe I didn’t think of just outright asking you like this any sooner.”

Logan liked to think he was the most composed side, but right now, he was an absolute disaster of a gay. His brain was figuratively short circuiting and he couldn’t find very many words to say, much less figure out how to put them together in coherent sentences. “You think I’m cool?...”

“Of course I do!” Remus was getting excited again, bouncing on his toes and fighting every urge to grab Logan’s stupid face and kiss him all over. “You’re so cool! You’re not scared of the weird things I say and you’re not afraid to call out the others when they’re in the wrong and I really really like hanging out with you. You’re totally cool and it’s taking every bit of restraint for me not to kiss you silly right now.”

If Logan were a more impulsive and a less composed side, he would’ve gladly invited Remus to do just that. Instead, he freed one of his hands and loosened his tie ever so slightly - he wasn’t sure when it had gotten so hard to breathe, but he was pretty sure being this flustered didn’t help, not that he’d admit it - and cleared his throat, hoping that his own brain would start working with him again. “That sounds like a very lovely proposition.”

Just as Logan had spent a while misinterpreting Remus’s romantic advances, Remus misinterpreted Logan’s acceptance as consent for what he wanted to do and grabbed his face, pulling him in for a kiss. Just like everything else that Remus did, it was passionate and chaotic, a mess of mashing lips and clicking teeth - Remus was saving using his tongue for later.

Logan wasn’t one for displays of romantic affection, especially not ones that were so public, but Remus’s passionate kiss was too hard not to get into and he found himself lost in the kiss before he could control himself, putting his previously freed hand over one of Remus’s and keeping the other wrapped around the bouquet that he was holding.

Unfortunately, just as they had a tendency to do every single time Logan showed even a sliver of vulnerability, one of the sides decided to show up right at that moment.

“Hey, Logan, would you mind if I grabbed a- Aaaahhhh!” Roman screamed as he walked in and saw his brother making out with their nerd.

Logan was too used to ignoring Roman’s every word and too into his current activities to pull away at the sound of the scream, but Remus was pretty sure that, in a more clear state of mind, Logan wouldn’t have wanted Roman to just watch them make out, especially not when it was their first makeout session, so he took every bit of his will power and pulled away from the kiss, turning back to glare at his brother.

“Fantastic timing, dipshit.”

Roman made a series of offended noises and gestured vaguely at the two of them, unsure of where exactly he went wrong in this scenario. “You’re making out with Logan in the middle of the kitchen where anyone can see! It’s not my fault that I happened to walk into our shared kitchen!”

Logan began pulling himself out of his daze, standing up straight and clearing his throat. “Roman, you’re not usually one to just walk into a room without loudly announcing yourself first.”

“You’re not usually one to just make out with anyone in the kitchen, especially not my brother!” Roman leaned against the wall and dramatically gripped his stomach. “Oh my god, I think I’m going to be sick... I have to leave!”

And just as fast as he’d arrived, Roman ran out of the kitchen, leaving the other two sides behind.

Remus sighed and turned to Logan, his usual smile making its way back onto his face. “So, we’re boyfriends now?”

Logan nodded and adjusted his glasses. ”Yes, we’re boyfriends now.” He decided against adding on the fact that their relationship was what he’d been agreeing to before, not the kissing, not wanting to let Remus think for even a second that he didn’t enjoy that amazing kiss. “And perhaps we could do more kissing later, when there aren’t any sides around to bother us?”

Remus’s eyes lit up. “Wait, will that include sex? I’ve been asking for a date, but I’ve also been asking for a lot of that.”

Yeah, Logan had noticed that much, he just preferred to be in an established relationship before going to that level. ... Wait, was asking for sex also one of Remus’s ways for asking for a relationship? That didn’t matter now, they were dating and there was no confusion about that. “Maybe after you take me on a few dates, yes.”

Remus cheered to himself and grabbed Logan’s shoulders, leaning in and kissing his forehead before letting him go. “Meet me in my side of the imagination at 8 o’clock tonight, dress according to whatever kind of activity you want to do, you’re choosing our first date.”

Logan simply nodded and watched as Remus left him alone in the kitchen, staring down at his flowers once he was out of sight. He and Remus were dating now... Sure, they could’ve been in a relationship sooner, had Logan been better at understanding the meanings behind his words, but that didn’t matter. They were dating now. And, for once, Logan couldn’t think about anything else.

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percywinchester27 · 5 years ago

Text

About a boy (Part-12)

Word count: 2.7K

Warning: Suspense, feels, physical abuse, child-trafficking, kidnapping, child-violence, bullying, this gets really really dark, rest of the warnings in the tags.

Characters: Dean, Cas, Gabriel, Benny, Michael, OCs and… Sam?

Summary: Dean Winchester has a secret. A secret that could really land him in trouble. He never expected to connect with anyone when he walked into the ‘Blue Stone Orphanage for Boys,’ but even then, the walls he has put up are slowly coming down. Now, a series of strange events are threatening to expose him. When everything starts falling apart around him, will he still be able to save the one person that matters the most?

A/N: Please pay attention to the tags if you have triggers.

Thanks to the dearest @deanssweetheart23 for beta reading this story <3

About a boy masterlist

It had been over an hour, Dean knew that much. The old clock by the bed ticked on relentlessly, pointing out every second that Will was gone; Will and Barry, while Dean couldn’t do anything about it. Cas had gone on and on about how sorry he was that he had let someone clock him out like that. But it wasn’t his fault that someone knocked him unconscious.

Logically, Dean knew there wasn’t anything he could do except wait for Jody to send cops and get them some help, but the chaos in his head wouldn’t let him do anything except wear a hole in the sticky carpet of the room. He was going out of his mind worrying about what could be happening to them right now.

Benny was standing over Cas, trying to console him.

“There was nothing else you could’ve done, Cas,” he said. Frustration and anger were evident in his features. “It’s a miracle that they didn’t kill you for finding out about the holding cells.”

Dean’s passive pacing stopped and he came to a halt. The same thought had been itching him, too. In fact, it was the only thing keeping him standing, knowing that somehow Cas had gotten away. That they had decided to leave him be. Now that Benny had said it out loud, something struck him- a hunch that was fast becoming a suspicion.

“Cas,” Dean said, “Did you really see nothing?”

“No!” Cas grimaced. “My head was turned.”

“And did you hear anything?”

Again, Cas shook his head, anguished.

“That means whoever it was, knew the place well. They didn’t use the flashlight. Though, unlike that figure from yesterday, who didn’t make a single effort to hide himself, this person was stealthy. He did not want to be found. And...” Dean hesitated. Not because he was unsure of what he was saying, but because he knew it would affect his friend. He took a deep breath and continued. “... I think I know who it is.”

***********************************

Dean had never set foot into this particular room before. It was a general rule that only people who were specifically asked could be here at any point of the day. Today, he was beyond caring, beyond giving a single thought about what happened to him, let alone what anybody thought. Will was in danger and if he had to get his ass kicked by the people who had it against him from day one, then so be it. Even if it meant getting bloodied and beaten to pulp by those jerks.

The boy he was looking for was sprawled across the bed, hand over his face.

“Michael!” Dean bellowed.

The room went quiet. His roommates, Gary and Raphael, sat up bolt, scowling at Dean with ill-concealed hatred and anger.

Michael’s face did not betray a single emotion. “Winchester,” he drawled.

Dean stepped inside and immediately Michael’s cronies sprang out of the beds, flexing their muscles. He ducked and swiped his foot from under Gary’s legs, knocking him down on his ass, then pivoted and punched Raphael in the face. Both of them crumpled to the ground. Dean did not wait for them to move. He strided forward till he was face to face with Michael.

“Where is Will?” he said, voice muted but seething.

Michael looked at him hard, then carefully shrugged. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Dean balled his fists. “I know it’s you who aids the smuggling of the kids. You, who helps Andy and the Stynes with whatever the hell they’re doing out there… and it was you who hit Cas on the head in the west wing.”

When Michael didn’t respond, Dean pushed ahead and grabbed him by the front of his shirt. Michael was a couple inches taller, but Dean was burning with rage.

Gary and Raphael had straightened up, and were beginning to advance on Dean, when Michael put his hand out. Dean could see that it was shaking with constraint. Anger or something else, he did not know.

“What makes you think that?” Michael said, eyes narrowing dangerously.

Dean let go of him with a push. “I know because no one else would have let Cas go. You are the only one who has any sort of pull over Andy and for some godforsaken reason you like Cas. Your lap dogs don’t care about anyone… not even Cas. They beat him bloody in the kitchens, but when you’re around they don’t dare rough him up. They wouldn’t have cared today. No one would have except you. So I’m right about you… aren’t I?”

Michael’s fist came flying out of nowhere and within the split of a second Dean was on the ground, his head hitting the floor hard.

“You don’t know anything!” Michael shouted. “You, moron!” His eyes were wild… not just with anger, but also with what could only be fear.

“What the fuck were you thinking snooping around in the left wing, you idiot?” he barked. “And dragging my brother into this? If anyone found out…”

“If anyone ever found out what?” Cas’s voice was as flat as Dean had ever heard it. He turned his neck upwards to see Cas standing by the door, Benny right behind him.

Dean got to his feet just as Cas walked right up to Michael.

The colour drained from Michael’s face when he saw Cas, and Dean couldn’t help but notice the tiny change in his demeanor. How his eyes quickly scanned Cas’s face, and his head where the blow had been delivered. The blood was still dry along the line of his ear.

“N-nothing,” he stuttered, backing a little.

“My whole life I thought there’s some purpose to everything that happens. Some divine entity looking over all of us.” Cas said in an odd diminished tone. “Isn’t that what they wanted us to believe in that missionary orphanage? I used to look up to you. How you were always so strong and the best at everything. How you would never let any of the boys bully us… look after us like we were your own. And I used to think- ‘what if my parents abandoned me… I still have a family. I have a big brother.’ But you… you?”

Cas looked away… disgusted. It was worse than if he had spat in Michael’s face or even slapped him. There was just something completely blasphemous about Cas’s disappointment. It was like watching an angel crash to the ground. Even though it wasn’t aimed at Dean, that expression on his friends face was just wrong.

Looking at it, something broke in Michael.

“What was I supposed to do?” He yelled, spreading his arms wide. “You don’t know how it is… how it was when that orphanage shut down and we were dumped here. I’m the oldest. All you kids are my responsibility. My family. I had to do whatever I could to protect you, and I did. I am not going to apologise for that. Hell, if it came to it, I would still do it all over again. It’s better for it to be some other kid I’ve never talked to than a brother of mine… than you, Castiel.”

Cas flinched. It was painful to see.

“What do they do with the kids, Michael?” Cas asked point blank.

“I can’t tell you,” Michael said

Cas looked at him steadily, his blue eyes rimmed with red. “Can’t or won’t?”

Michael gritted his teeth, “I can’t, okay? They will take you away, if they found out that you knew.”

Cas squared his shoulders. “If you don’t tell me, I’m going to find Andy and tell him that I know. Then they’ll take me anyway.”

“No!” Michael’s voice was menacing. “This is all because of you, Winchester! I don’t know what you’ve done to him, but he isn’t the same anymore.”

“Cas has a mind of his own,” Dean said through gritted teeth. “If you think of him as a brother, maybe you should give him more credit.”

“You!” Michael lunged, hands outstretched towards Dean, but Benny got there first.

“Won’t happen, asshole!” Benny grunted. “Now tell us where Will and Barry are.”

Michael spat in his face.

Dean braced himself to throw a punch, but Cas’s hand on his shoulder stopped him.

“Michael,” Cas said, his voice hopeless and strangled. “Mike… if you’ve ever thought of me as your brother, please tell us where they are. I wasn’t kidding when I said I’ll go turn myself over to Andy. Then they’ll either have to kill me to shut me up or do whatever it is that they do.”

Dean had expected some visible reaction from Michael… he got more than he had imagined. Michael staggered backwards, eyes widened, and then almost crashed into his bed, mouth hanging open in silent horror.

“No… don’t… don’t say that.”

Cas walked right up to him. “I will do it,” he repeated quietly.

Michael put his face in his hands. When he spoke through his fingers, his voice was muffled. “There’s an abandoned warehouse, about 20 miles south of the town. The Stynes have owned that property since before this orphanage existed. They use it as the base for their operation.”

“What operation?” Dean asked impatiently, rushing ahead, and Michael shot him a loathsome look.

However, he did answer the question. “It’s an organ trafficking scam. They have a couple of trained people under them who remove kidneys, heart, liver, and then sell it to the highest bidder in the black market.”

“What happens to the kids afterwards?” Benny asked. He was the only one who could even talk. Cas looked about as sick as Dean felt. The growing horror had exploded in his chest and Dean stumbled into a nearby chair.

“If they live, they’re either put into a begging racket or sold into prostitution. But most of the time… they don’t…” He didn’t complete the sentence because there was a loud crack. Cas had punched him in the face. Gary and Raphael moved, but Michael put his hand out, holding them off again.

“How dare you?” Cas growled, tears were making their way down the side of his face.

All fight seemed to have gone out of Michael. “I had to do it. I figured it out quickly enough after we were moved, and Andy threatened to sell you all off first if I opened my mouth. He offered me a deal. That all of us would be safe if I helped him manage the crowd. Did his job of looking at the kids when he was away, and shut everyone up who threatened the operation.”

“So they bought your silence!”

“What was I supposed to do?” Michael shouted. “You are my family. My responsibility!”

“You should have gone to the police!” Cas shouted back. “Don’t give me any crap about how you didn’t have a chance. You have had enough liberties here, and at school. Don’t try to pin your weakness on us! I would have rather died than be a part of any of this, knowing or unknowingly. I can’t imagine what poor kid died in my place. How many…” Cas trailed off in horror.

“Jaime!” Benny asked. “What about Jaime?”

Michael shook his head, hands in his hair. “He didn’t make it.”

Benny staggered to the side, his face crumpling in sorrow and pain.

Dean seized Michael by the collar, but he didn’t attempt to fight back. He looked defeated. “What about Will? He was going to be adopted. Obviously the Kensingtons will look for him now that he is missing. It was the dumbest thing to do! To risk an inquiry for the sake of a single kid.”

“Will was special,” Michael whispered. “The only reason he had even remained here was because they were saving him. His blood group- AB negative- is rare, they knew he’d fetch a lot of money. Last week a very wealthy businessman of the same blood group posted a bid. Adoption be damned. Will was always the means to big money.”

“Stop saying ‘was!” Dean thundered, pushing Michael with both hands. “Will is alright and I’m going to find him. You take me to him now, you son of bitch!”

For the third time in the night, the door swung open, hitting the adjacent wall with a crash. On the threshold stood Gabriel, his face had red angry patches and fury blazed in his eyes. “You, asshole!” he yelled and launched himself at Michael, throwing punches after punches. This time Gary and Raphael didn’t stand back, they rushed in, too. So did Dean and Benny. A chaos of punches and kicks followed, till Dean and Benny had the other two pinned to the floor. Michael was still taking the hits without any protest.

Dean wanted him to be furious, wanted Michael to shout and fight back, because he deserved the thrashing. There was something utterly frustrating about watching him just take it.

Meanwhile, Gabriel was hurling abuses after abuses, each punctuated by another punch. From what Dean gathered out of the broken curses, he had been spying on them all along- Dean, Cas and Benny- after the standoff in their room weeks ago, and that had led him to overhear this conversation. He was also from the same orphanage as Cas, and all things considered, he had also looked upto Michael as their brother.

While Gabe hit every part of Michael that he could find, Cas stood in the corner, eyes hollow, staring at nothing.

“Enough!” Dean yelled. “Michael! The police are on their way. One way or another this ends tonight. Will you take us to the warehouse?”

His face was bloody and bruised badly, one of his eyes was red. Michael raised his head to give Cas a slow glance. Cas was leaning against the wall, tears flowing unbounded.

“Yes!” Michael groaned, still not taking his eyes off the boy who was like his little brother. “I’ll take you there.”

“I’m coming,” Benny said, “You can’t stop me.”

Dean wasn’t going to. Benny deserved to go as much as any of them did. If it hadn’t been for his help, they’d have never managed to get any information.

“I’m coming, too.” Gabriel’s voice sounded brittle, but it did not waiver.

He had red splotches on his nose and cheeks, and he looked like someone had pulled the rug from under him. Dean wasn’t sure what to make of any of it. He didn’t know Gabriel at all.

“Look-” Dean began.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Gabriel shot back. He looked so out of his usual sauve and confident element. “Tell them, Cas,” he pleaded to his brother. “Tell them that you want me there with you.”

Cas seemed to have not heard anything at all. He was in shock.

Gabriel walked over to him and shook Cas. “Say something! You asked me to pick a side, remember? Now I am picking yours!”

Cas snapped out of it. His eyes landed on Gabriel and then met Dean’s. Ever so lightly, he nodded.

There was no time to argue about anything. They had to get out of here. Jody must be close.

It was clear in Dean’s mind what he needed to do. First, he had to go back to his room and page the address of the warehouse to Jody, then they would gather all the flashlights they could find and get the hell out of the place.

“There’s one problem,” Gabriel said urgently, “We don’t have a car, and none of us know how to drive.”

Dean closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Images of working in Bobby’s backyard on tens and hundreds of cars flashed through his mind. Him jacking up the gears, fixing the engine, wiring the car… even taking them for a drive. Bobby taking him through the town, smiling proudly as Dean parallel parked perfectly.

He opened his eyes, fists clenched in determination. “Don’t worry about it,” he said. “We just have to get to the edge of the town.”

Will was coming back to him. Even if he had to bring heaven and hell together to make it happen.

*******************************

A/N 2: A lot in this chapter is based off the ordeals of kids I used to teach art to in an orphanage. That stuff still keeps me up at night.

Please do tell me what you thought of the chapter? I live for comments!

If you wanna be tagged, please send me an ask

About a Boy taglist:

@sdavid09 @deanssweetheart23 @blacktithe7 @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @cosicas-cuquis @chalicia @anathewierdo @mrswhozeewhatsis @protectteamfreewill @firefly124-writing @spnbaby-67 @hoboal87 @rizlow1 @donnaintx @starmission @gh0stgurl @tftumblin @emily-a-c11 @ericaprice2008 @jotink78 @charliebradbury1104 @ohgodwhybloggg @i-dont-get-cold @bobbie3939 @samsexualdeancurious @dancing-the-hellfire-rumba @cookiechipdough @wildfirewinchester

#dean winchester fanfiction #dean fanfic #weechesters #weechesters AU #dean winchester #aab part 12 #Ana writes aab #anawritesspn #anawrites #tw: prostitution #tw: torture #tw: physical abuse #tw: child abuse #tw: organ trafficking #tw: kidnapping #q

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alexthepartyman · 4 years ago

Text

Fine Line

Chapter Six: I’m hopeless, I’m broken.

“Yeah?” Uncle Jason asks as Penelope comes in.

“Thank you for the flowers. I know I can be challenging, but your work is appreciated. J. Gideon. I appreciate the appreciation.” I look to Jason with confusion. He didn’t get her those flowers...what? Who’s posing as Jason? “And btw, you’re not challenging. Well, no, you’re totally challenging, but you’re not challenging at all in a bad way. Sir.” She turns around and looks at the framed photos. “Hey, is this your family?”

“Yeah. Sort of.”

“Nice. Hi, Jamie. How are you doing? You finally got off your crutches?”

“Working on it.”

“Thanks again for the flowers. Hey.”

“Hey…”

“What the hell does btw mean?”

“By the way. Internet shorthand.”

“You sent Garcia flowers?”

“No. You need something?”

“Missing child in Wilmington, Delaware.”

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

“Eleven year old Billie Copeland was last seen on the playground at four-thirty yesterday afternoon.”

“Isn’t there a thing that says we get notified immediately? Why wasn’t this reported sooner?” I ask.

“Yes, the Child Abduction Response Plan. What happened?”

“Well, there was reason to believe she was with her father. Her cell phone shows a call to him around the time of her disappearance.”

“So they’ve since ruled him out?”

“He called the mother about an hour ago,” JJ answers.

“That doesn’t mean he isn’t involved.”

“He’s on his way to the family home, so you can talk to him there. The local police are now considering this a stranger abduction.”

“Twenty hours later?”

“Long term stranger abductions of children Billie’s age are rare. They represent only half of one percent of all missing cases per year. But they are usually more likely to be fatal. Of the children that are abducted and murdered, forty-four percent die within the first hour. From that point forward, their odds of survival greatly decrease. Seventy-five percent are gone after three hours. Virtually all of them are dead after twenty-four.”

“We’ve got four hours, then.”

“Shall we go?”

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

“She’s been missing twenty-one hours.”

“You should have let Derek drive, we’d have gotten here in fifteen minutes,” I remark.

“We’re gonna go meet with the lead detective at the park where the girl was last seen.” Aaron drives away.

“We need to know everything that’s being done,” Jason says.

“I’ll find out what the press is running, see if I know any of them. We may need to manage what they put out. Jamie, be careful to stay away from the media, they’ll have a field day if they find out about you.”

“Good. See what the uniforms know from the canvasses. Elle, I need you to be a liaison with the family.”

“A liaison?”

“In a child abduction, the parents are likely to break down if we aren’t careful.” I move alongside them towards the house.

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

“We’re looking for a male in his mid to late thirties who drives a late-model green SUV. If anybody has seen anything suspicious, we have a hotline set up at the Wilmington Police Department. Billie Copeland is an eleven year old girl. The last time she was seen, she was in a blue track suit and a blue soccer uniform.”

Mrs Copeland sniffs, turning off the TV. “They’ve been running that over and over again for the past two hours,” she says.

“They just want to help find her, and running it over and over again, it may get to somebody who wasn’t watching before, somebody who might know something,” I explain, letting my arm shake.

“The press wants to talk to me. I just...I don’t think I can face it.”

“It’s best you follow our guidance.”

“Why don’t you just tell us what happened?” Elle asks.

“Um...I was focused on practice, and...Billie was...being a pain, as usual, she was giving me attitude. So I told her to run it off. I sent her away.”

“That’s not your fault. There’s no way you could have known. Focusing on what we can’t control...that’s only going to make you feel worse. What’s done was done.”

“How long have you been divorced?” Elle asks.

“Um...it’s been final for six months, but we haven’t lived together in over a year.”

“Are you seeing anyone?”

She laughs, “Between work and Billie, when would I have the time?”

“Not one date? Any men coming over to the house?”

“I-I had a few casual dates after work, but they never came to the house. Billie still hopes that her father and I will get back together.”

“How did Billie’s dog die, Mrs Copeland?” Uncle Jason asks.

“Uh...it was hit by a car two weeks ago. How did you know that?”

“Shrine in the room. Helps her grieve?”

“Her father did that for her.”

“They get along well?”

“Best of friends. She calls him every night, tells him about her day, asks about his. He’s a cancer survivor, so he takes time off from work, pulls her out of school for father/daughter field trips. Says we all need to stop and enjoy life. But he forgets that he has responsibilities, they both do, which makes me the bad guy. And she blames me for the divorce. Blames me for everything...I shoulld have just let her go with her father. I’m sorry.” She gets up off the couch and storms away from us.

“She’s pretty fragile.”

“The last thing she did was fight with her daughter. Can you imagine what that feels like?”

“Pretty terrible. Lost Jamie once, I had to rescue him.”

“I thought that was Eddie.”

“He was there.”

“Elle, I was seven,” I tell her. Tires screech from outside.

“Mr Copeland’s here.”

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

“I have been calling you all night!”

“I’m sorry, Marilyn, I turned my phone off.”

“How could you turn your phone off? What if Billie got sick or…we needed you.”

“I said I was sorry!” Mr Copeland walks back to us in frustration. “What’s being done to find my daughter?”

“We’re assessing that right now.”

“She’s been missing since yesterday! What the hell have you people been doing since then?!”

“Where have you been, Mr Copeland?” I ask.

“Me?”

“Where were you all day and all night?”

“I have a cabin in Brandywine Valley.”

“Police tried you there.”

“Well, maybe I was out at the time.”

“Bille tried your cell phone yesterday afternoon.”

“Well, I shut it off sometimes. I like the solitude.”

“You didn’t fight your wife for custody of your daughter,” Jason adds. “But you...you like being in her life.”

“I want her to grow up in her home with her friends around. This is the only place she’s ever lived.”

“So you love her very much.”

“Yes.”

“Why do you waste any precious time we have left? You weren’t at your cabin. You weren’t at work or with friends. Police didn’t call us until a little while ago because they though your daughter might have been with you?” I look to Mr Copeland, whose face screams disbelief. “That you might have taken your daughter. Until you can give us a satisfactory accounting of your whereabouts from the time your daughter went missing until -” Jason gets up and puts his face in his hands. “Would you help me understand why a devoted father who talks to his daughter every night suddenly turns off his phone, disappears for almost twenty-four hours?”

“I was...busy.”

“Not good enough,” I remark.

“It’s one thirty. You called your wife at eleven thirty, found out Billie was missing.”

“So?”

“Well, Brandywine Valley’s fifteen minutes away. Where were you, Mr Copeland?”

“I…I was at Sloane Kettering Hospital. In New York City. Dr Baylan Mahal is the head of oncology. You can call him if you want.”

“I will.”

“How long?” I ask.

“What?”

“How long do you have?” I ask. “It’s an inference. You mentioned oncology...only viable answer, your cancer came back.”

“It’s in my lymph nodes now. You wouldn’t know what those are.”

“Immune system glands. Mine are messed up, too. Can they do anything more?” I take a seat in front of him, on the ottoman.

“No. Please, find my daughter. Find my daughter.”

“Of course.” He puts his head in his hands and cries.

“Call Sloane Kettering.”

I look back as Jason leaves, Elle stands, and I extend a hand out to hold Mr Copeland’s shoulder.

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

“You took all the police off the street?”

“We believe your daughter was abducted by someone in the area, and that she’s probably still nearby.”

“Then shouldn’t you be flooding the area with cops, knocking on doors?”

“It’s not that simple.”

“Yes, it is.” Mr Copeland pops his medication, and I pop mine, too.

“Youre taking the meds again.”

“Look...what exactly are you people doing to help get my daughter back?”

“You’re sick again, aren’t you?”

“We want you to meet with the press...both of you.”

“Elle…”

“Press conference. That’s what you have? You just said you’re already taking the press that’s running off the air.”

“I know. But this will be different. Trust us, Mr Copeland.” The doorbell rings.

“I’ll get it. Just tell Marilyn what you need us to do.” Elle sticks her hand out towards me, jarring me from gettin up and following him.

“That was his second remission.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Billie won’t even talk to me anymore. How am I gonna tell her that her father’s sick again?”

“One thing at a time, Mrs Copeland. Once we find your daughter, you’ll figure it out.”

“Can I help you?”

“Mr Copeland, I’m Helen Godfrey from a few blocks away. I have printouts of all the sex offenders in the area. I think if you just...look at any of these…”

“What the hell?” Elle asks, heading out of the house. I get up and grab my crutches to see Mr Copeland running to his car with a paper in his hand. “Mr Copeland?”

“I’m really sorry,” I quickly apologise, walking out the front door.

“Mr Copeland!” Tires screech as the yellow truck pulls out of the driveway and heads off.

“There are sex offenders in the area. I thought he should know.”

“Stupid,” Elle remarks, ripping her phone open.

“Ma’am, I’d highly recommend leaving that to law enforcement,” I quickly advise, following after Elle.

“Hotch, we have a problem.”

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

“Mr Jones isn’t interested in pressing charges,” Aaron says.

“Am I supposed to be grateful? The bastard’s a pedophile.”

“Not all sex offenders are pedophiles,” I cut it.

“Did you check up on him? Did you ever search his house>”

“He solicited a prostitute. Nothing with kids.”

“But he’s registered on-”

“Mr Copeland, please. There are at least a million different ways to get on that list.”

“That’s why accessing that type of information is supposed to be left up to law enforcement.”

“We understand your frustration and your anger, but you’re jeopardising our efforts to save your daughter’s life. Every minute spent chasing you is time we’re not spending on Billie. So either get control of yourself and follow our directions or stay out of our way.”

“What would you like us to do?”

“Make a public appeal for information regarding a witness driving a dark green SUV.”

“Isn’t he supposed to be the suspect?”

“Yes. But when people hear suspect, they can’t see the guy next door as a monster. They can’t imagine their neighbour doing something like that, because that’s not how they know them. If they’re a witness, they might be a hero.”

“Okay, but what if he thinks it’s a trick? What if he panics or thinks or it’s too risky, and then he-”

“You’re not just speaking to him. You’re talking to his neighbours, as well. Anyone who knows him.”

“We’ve done everything we can to relieve the pressure on this man. We’ve taken the cops off the street. You won’t have any standing with you on the dais. Only a local minister.”

“Hearing he isn’t a suspect might calm him down as well,” Aaron adds. “Right now he’s under enormous stress. And we need him to believe, even if it’s just for a little while, that we’re way off the mark, that we’re not close to arresting him.”

“Are you? Close to arresting him?”

“We need the public’s help.”

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

“If you keep looking at me like that, they’ll definitely notice,” I scold Derek.

“I’m not too sure you should be off your crutches.”

“How am I gonna be able to walk without them if I don’t try? Besides, it’s not like I’m going that far.”

“Okay, come on.”

“Here they come.”

“Would you close the door? Thank you,” I hear JJ say from the stage. “Okay, can I have everyon’s attention? Please, if you could just take your seats...the Copeland family is here to make an appeal. As you all know, their eleven year old daughter Billie is missing. So if ou could just have a little compassion and patience. Mr Copeland.” I poke my head around the corner to watch the scene unfold with my own eyes. Mr Copeland sets up to the podium with his wife and the minister.

“Yesterday…” he clears his throat. I gently nod. “Yesterday, at approximately three pm, my daughter...our daughter…” The minster holds her hand. “Belinda Copeland. Billie. Went missing from the recreation center. We are looking for a man, a witness, in a green SUV. There have been some reports that he is a suspect, but that was a mistake. He’s not suspected of anything. We would like this man to come forward and tell us what he knows. We need your help. He may not even understand how important what he saw is. So anyone with information about this individual or his green SUV, please call the tip hotline. Thank you.” I smile up at him and give him a thumbs up.

“Mr Copeland! Mr Copeland!”

“We’d like Billie to come home now. It’ll be dark soon. Thank you.”

“So the body located by police earlier today is not Billie’s?” My heart sinks to the floor, rage filling me, hot and deep. What the fuck? There was a body? There was a body? How did he even find out?!

“What?”

“The female body -”

“There’ll be no more questions. Thank you.”

“What body?”

“This press conference is over. Let’s discuss this outside.” I dart along the walls and find myself at the door out of the room, ripping it open for the couple to walk through.

“What body?”

“Come on, Mr Copeland. There’ll be no more questions. That’ll be all for now.” I look towards the cameras and the reporters.

“Press conference is over,” JJ repeats.

“Mr Copeland!”

“What about Billie?” I look at the flashing photo lights and blink, closing the door behind the minister, and JJ goes up to one of the reporters.

“Is that your idea of compassion?”

“I only asked a question. You’re the ones who didn’t tell the parents-”

“Because we weren’t sure. Raising and destroying hopes with inconclusive information is dangerous,” I cut in.

“James.” I groan at JJ. “A positive identification hasn’t been made. Asking them about that was out of line, Hal.” She shuts up and drags me out.

“Is there a body?!”

“Please just come with me,” Elle begs.

“Tell me right now, did you find a body?”

“Mrs Copeland-”

“Did you find Billie? Is my daughter dead?” She asks. I reach up and let her lean on me.

“A body was discovered,” Aaron answers.”

“It’s not Billie. The body that was found was much older, looked like it had been there for days. Looks like maybe a junkie or an overdose.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I saw the body myself. It’s not your daughter.”

“My god, I can’t...I can’t…”

“Please, just come with me right now,” Elle says, leading Mrs Copeland away as she cries. Mr Copeland follows them.

“What the hell was that all about?”

“A reporter asked them about the body.”

“Probably heard it on the scanner.”

“I should have prepared them for that.”

“We don’t have anything to tell them yet,” Jason argues.

“Billie’s running out of time.”

“And so are the parents.”

“Come on. A little hope, huh? We’ll make it, we’ll make it.”

“James, you’re not allowed to go up to reporters.” JJ scolds me as we follow Jason out.

“JJ, it’s fine, it’s fine, it’s fine.”

“No, it’s not. We have to be careful what we tell the media, or else we could get Billie killed.”

“I know, JJ.”

“We haven’t even properly discussed what’s going to happen if they catch wind of who you are-”

“Minor consultant, working under SSA Jason Gideon of the Behavioural Analysis Unit, Federal Bureau of Investigation. Tell them that.”

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

“How’s it going?”

“The unsub’s in here somewhere.”

“If you can’t find sex offenders with green suvs, try anybody with green suvs.”

“You gotta bet that the police talked to them in their initial canvass.”

“Maybe not. Our unsub is a solitary individual. He isn’t the type of guy to insert himself into an investigation. Wouldn’t it make more sense that he wouldn’t have answered the door during the initial canvass?”

“Neighbourhood was crawling with cops, canine units, search and rescues. Make him nervous and jumpy, he’d want to avoid them at all costs.”

“Yeah, you could easily just pretend you aren’t home,” I add.

“So then he couldn’t allow anyone into his home to ask routine questions, even if the girl was bound or gagged because it’d be too risky.”

“It’s next to impossible to control breathing, speech patterns, body language when the body’s under extreme duress. Maybe if we compare hotline tips with anyone who wasn’t at home during the initial canvass.”

“Or didn’t answer the door.”

“We’ll find our unsub.”

“Let’s get to it. Jamie, here you go,” Aaron hands me a pile of files from Spencer’s work area. “Green SUVs, in the area.”

“Got it.”

“Sergeant.”

“Yeah?”

“Here’s what we need. Everything that come in here…”

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

“Yeah. It was worth a try. That’s right. Thank you.” Derek hangs up the phone. “Nothing.”

“Agent Morgan?”

“Yeah?”

“This the kind of thing you’re looking for?”

“What is it?” I ask, pushing the chair out to get up.

“Uh-uh. Crutches.” Derek scolds me, and I groan and set them up. “Reid.”

“A Mr Lomax has a neighbour with a green SUV, but he hasn’t seen him all day. Says that’s unusual. Thought he might have been out of town, but now he sees some lights on over there.”

“1106 Springfield. Where’s our canvass sheets?” I grab them from a nearby table. “1106.”

“1100 block. 1106...no answer.”

“Let’s go talk with Mr Lomax. Nice call.”

“Thanks. Good luck.” I look up at Spencer as we head out.

“I am definitely not using these come Tuesday.”

“Tuesday? Why then?” Spencer asks.

“That’s when school starts up again, and I’m headed back on A/B weeks for the month.”

“You should use your crutches for as long as you’ve been told to. You know, the correct way of getting off of your crutches is to go to physical and occupational therapy.”

“Oh, come on. These things are annoying! I’ve been going since it happened!”

“Actually, it’s been one month and twenty days since your accident, and you started going to physical and occupational therapy a week after it, so you’ve been going for one month and thirteen days.”

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

“Mr Lomax?” Derek asks as we approach a man aggressively raking leaves in his yard. “Agent Morgan. Agent Reid. James Rossi. FBI.” The two men beside me pull out their badges, and I pull out mine that granted me access to the buildings.

“Holy smokes, that was fast!”

“Did you call in a tip about your neighbour, Don Curtis?”

“Lives down the street. I saw the news thing, you know?”

“Yep. Green SUV?” I ask, spotting the car.

“Yeah. I was thinking...Don drives a dark green explorer, and he’s at the park all the time. I figured, like they said on the television, maybe he knows something but he doesn’t know that he knows it.” Or he’s our unsub, and he definitely knows he is. “Know what I mean?”

“Yeah, we do.” I look back towards the man. “Where’s his explorer now?”

“It’s usually in the driveway, but I haven’t seen it today. Haven’t seen Don either, which is kind of weird. We’re always out front talking about the lawns. He never has any crab grass.” I don’t know what that is, so. “I don’t know how he does it.”

“Do you know if he has a dog?”

“Used to. A big golden retriever. Her name was Candy. I think she died like six months ago.”

“Thanks, Mr Lomax,” I say, as we turn to walk away.

“Yeah, Hotch. Morgan. Better get over here right now.” I swing myself forward, starting the walk down to the house.

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

“Third house down on the right. We knocked on the door, but nobody’s answering.”

“His neighbour said he’s definitely there.”

“He’s got a green ford explorer in the garage.”

“Break down the door,” Jason suggests.

“No. We don’t have probable cause.”

“You don’t think owning a vehicle that was used to kidnap a child is probable cause enough?” I ask the detective. “He’s got a green SUV, dog that died recently, spends time at the park.”

“Pretending he’s not home.”

“None of which are illegal. No judge is going to sign a warrant based on that information.”

“You’re weighing the life of a child against the price of a door?”

“I’m weighing the law against the price of a door.”

“The girl’s in the house right now. The longer we stand here and wait, the longer he has to finish her off.”

“I’ll call a judge. If we go in there without a warrant, all that evidence will get thrown-”

“No time!” I yell, bouncing up and down.

“We’re aware of the rules of evidence. What do you propose that we do?”

“JASON!” I yell, throwing my crcutches off and running after the old man as he dashes to the house.

“JAMIE!”

“Gideon! Gideon, wait a minute!” Derek yells. “Gideon, Gideon, you need -” He gets cut off by the sound of glass, Jason hits the window with a potted plant, shattering it and climbing through the window.

“FEDERAL AGENTS, FBI!” Derek shouts, kicking the door open and wielding his gun. I follow after everyone else, dashing down the hall after Jason, but stopping before rounding a corner. I pop my head out, spotting the open door at the end of the hall. Jason heads towards it, and I pull my pocketknife out of my bag and unfold it, preparing myself to attack. Derek rounds the corner with his gun in front. I pull back as Jason screams, a man walking out of one of the rooms.

“Where is she?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I hear a gun cocking.

“Where’s Billie Copeland?”

“Please don’t hurt me.”

“Gideon…”

“Please! Please put the gun down.”

“Gideon!”

“Get him out of here!”

“Let’s go. Let’s go.”

“TEAR THE PLACE APART!”

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

“Just as we expected, he has an extensive collective of deviant photos and cartoon downloads.”

“Partitioned in separate folders?”

“Yep.”

“Access the internet history. Identify any pornographic sites, shut them down.”

“We’re uploading to Garcia as we speak.”

“What is this? Is it all porn?”

“It’s a lot of home movies with a bunch of kids in it. This one, you need to see it.” I keep my head down as the tape starts to play.

“Ssssshh. Remember what I’ll do if you tell.” I shiver at the sound of the voice.

“Gideon, we searched the entire house. Upstairs, downstairs. Everywhere. There’s no sign of the girl or that she’s even been here. It is possible that he moved her. Polly Klaas was found twenty-five miles from home. Danielle Van Damme, thirty, Samantha Runnion, fifty-two. But keep in mind...we were twenty hours late getting involved.”

“Man doesn’t take chances. He wouldn’t drive around with a girl in the car. He took her, got her off the street as quickly as possible. Just keep looking. Jamie, details.”

“I’m on it.”

“You know, it’d be helpful if I knew exactly what to look for,” I comment. “We just have kiddie porn, and that can put him away for something...but it doesn’t help us find Billie.”

“I know. Details, what does he mean by that?”

“Survey everything. Point out anything that catches my attention. Hey, is there, like an attic or a basement?”

“There’d be a door somewhere, or stairs.”

“Sometimes there isn’t. I remember being in a house...you got to the basement through a hole in the closet floor. You wouldn’t know it was there, it was covered up. I’m gonna get Jason.”

“What kind of house has that?” Spencer asks.

“I don’t know. You know what he’s talking about?”

I walk down the hallway and head into the living room, where Jason is pulling something out of a broom. “What’s that?”

“Insulation. What did you need?”

“I was thinking...is there a basement or an attic? Sometimes, there will be patches in the floor or the ceiling, and when you take out the patches, there’s the entrance.” I explain. “Didn’t he have insulation on him? Access point might be in a bedroom or in the hallway.”

“The hallway. Jamie, there’s a vent.” I turn around and head back the way I came, stopping under a vent in the ceiling with poofy stuff hanging from it.

“You mean this thing?” I ask.

“Yeah. That thing. Hotch, get me up there.”

“Here, take my crutches, I can get up there. Jason, help me.” I take off my crutches, letting them clank on the wooden floor under us and jump into Jason’s arms, opening the vent and hoisting myself up from there. “Jesus Christ, I’m heavy.”

“You’re just out of shape. Alright, thanks, Hotch. Jamie’s already up there. Jamie, look for Billie.” I nod, crawling away from the hole and looking around, spotting a girl with a bright pink arm cast. “She’s here.” I crawl towards her, unwrapping the tape from aronud her mouth. “Sssh. It’s okay, it’s okay. I’m Jamie. We’re gonna take you back to your parents. You’re safe now. Is your arm hurting?” I ask.

“I wanna go home.”

“I know.”

“Hey, Billie. My name’s Jason. Jamie and I are gonna take you home.”

“Can she get to a doctor afterwards to check on her arm?” I ask.

“Yeah, maybe. Your mommy and daddy are very worried about you.”

“I wanna go home,” she pants.

“Let’s go see your mom and dad, huh?” Jason undos the rest of her bindings takes her in her arms. “Oh, I forgot. I took this for luck.” He gives her something. “Let’s bring it back to where it belongs, okay? Let’s go see your mommy and daddy. Jamie, go down after her. Hotch! Here she comes. Here you go, sweetie. Watch your arm.”

“Thanks, for not getting mad at me.” I say as he lowers her into Aaron’s arms. ‘Watch her arm.”

“What did you even do?” I chuckle at his obliviousness. “Watch your arm.”

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

“I got absolutely nothing.”

“Aw, nothing.”

“Ssss…two pair…” Spencer hisses. “Of aces…”

“Oh, get out of town! Why you always winning? Nuh-uh!”

“Cause he cheats!”

“Poker. It’s mathematics, it’s statistics.”

“Which explains why I’m horrible at it,” I comment. “I don’t think I had anything either.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“He’s from Vegas.”

“House rules.”

“There’s that, too.”

“Alright, shuffle.”

“Give me a card,” Derek demands.

“Hey, Hotch,” Jason asks.

“Yeah? He can play poker, we’re not using actual money.”

“It’s not that. Not even his dad can teach him to play.”

“Uncle Jason!” I exclaim.

“It’s true. Did you send flowers to that tech girl...Garcia...and say they were from me?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“Jason, people need to know that they’re important, and sometimes you forget that.”

“I already sent her a gift.”

“What? Jamie, you didn’t tell me.”

“Well, maybe you should ask,” I remark.

“Oohh, boy got some sass.”

“It’s his dad. Dave can be blunt. What did you get for her, Jason?”

“An MP3 player. Jamie helped pick it out. They last longer. Unless you drop them, or the battery dies, whichever comes first.”

“So, she got two gifts.”

“What if she thinks I’m sweet on her?”

“I’ll talk to her.” Elle gives a funny look that makes us all laugh.

“Give me cards,” I say.

#criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #adoptedbydavidrossi #fine line

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twistytwine · 4 years ago

Text

Horror!AU Deleted Scenes: Victoria’s Thorn Dissection

A scene in the original draft of the Horror!AU, featuring a removed scene from Victoria’s chapter.

Trigger warnings: Lots of gore, blood, body horror, swearing, Victoria is also literally just 15 years old and she goes through a lot of pain

Susan brought Victoria out of her bedroom and onto one of the many couches of the apartment. Victoria was whimpering, tears prickling at the edges of her eyes and fear swarming like seeds in her chest. Gently, the mercenary began dabbing a cloth to soak up the blood, which had stopped bubbling from the torn bumps.

Pim was at her side as well. She had originally planned to visit by gifting her friend some pretty pink tulips that she had stored so delicately in a pretty little bag. But now, she had put the bag aside, and now she was doing her best to contain her worry and concern for Victoria. Her lips felt dry and her fists were clenched. She didn’t understand what was going on. Nobody did. Not even Susan.

“I’m sorry,” she muttered, a hand carefully placed on Victoria’s shoulder. “I should have been here sooner.”

“I-It’s-- It’s okay,” the plant mage stammered back, gulping and shaking. “You wouldn’t… wouldn’t have buh-been able to stop it, anyway.”

Susan’s breathing had gotten a bit heavier, and her hands were flimsy as she tried to keep them steady. Her green eyes were wide and on edge. Then she let out a nervous laugh. “You’ll be fine. You’ll be okay. Even when… I wasn’t here to watch over you and instead I let you watch a stupid movie like the stupid person I am instead of trying to use AI for something else like figuring out what the hell is wrong with you!!”

“N-No, you’re…”

“Oh my god. I’m such a shitty parent, I--”

“You’re not, Sue,” Pim told her, her own voice shaking. “None of us knows what’s going on. It’s nobody’s fault.”

Susan hissed a breath through her teeth. “Alright. Fine. It’s nobody’s fault. But if it were to be anybody’s fault, it would be mine.”

Victoria shook her head, tears beginning to squeeze from her eyes. “Pl-Please stop…”

There was a sense of motherly shame in Susan’s eyes as she continued to wipe the blood from the girl’s arms and legs. Victoria was twitching, wincing, trying to stay still, for any movement would just make the entire situation worse. Whatever was happening to her, it seemed to be more painful than Jared’s disease.

When all the blood was cleaned, Susan threw the rag on the ground and tugged on the roots of her hair. “First I had Jared sick and now I have this. This is just great. And I don’t know how to solve it.”

Pim stared at the thorns sprouted out of Victoria’s skin, brow furrowing as she chewed on her lip. A plant mage. Thorns came from plants.

“Do you believe that it is possible that this has to do with her plant magic?” she asked.

Susan exhaled, running her hands frantically through her hair. “I mean, sure, I guess, sure. Sure. Whatever. All of this crazy stuff is coming from her magic. How the hell would we stop that?”

“By having her not use her plant magic until we find a solution.”

Susan’s mouth clenched. Her hands were fidgeting wildly at her sides. “Right. Yeah. I’m stupid right now and I can’t think. I’m sorry.” Her forehead was sweaty. “I-- I can’t focus right now.”

“It’s okay,” Pim reassured her, honestly feeling similar to her. “Take a few deep breaths. Nothing worse is happening right now. We...just have to figure out what’s going on.”

“Okay, okay, I-- you know what? It’s going to take me a hell of a long time to calm down--”

“It won’t--”

“--I’m going to get Dr. fucking Dremash in here. He knows much more about magic than I do and I’m not gonna waste everybody’s time just standing here.” Susan felt ashamed to want help from such a snobby, annoying, irritable man, but this was just a last resort. If anybody knew about magic the most in this damn kingdom, it would be Aemilius.

Susan was gone before Pim could call after her to stay calm and that Dr. Dremash’s would be very ticked off to be distracted from his work, but then she realized that it was probably best to have his help; he was most likely going to have a lot of questions, after all, and when he had questions, they were always answered.

His complaining was already heard from outside the door as Susan tugged him into the chamber forcefully by the sleeve of his lab coat. “You are frustrating!” he was exclaiming to her. “There is no need to be such a disrespectful, impulsive degenerate towards me of all people you--”

“Shut up!” Susan shot back at him. “I brought you here for a reason! Look at her!”

As her hands launched out in Victoria’s direction, Aemilius’ eyes followed, lingering on the poor girl. That sense of dread from before came over him, sending a shiver down his spine. Then he gnashed his teeth, huffing. Here we go again, he thought to himself in both anticipation and annoyance.

“And what is it that you want me to do?” he gritted, glaring pointedly at Susan. “Figure this out, I assume?”

“Obviously! I can’t focus at all and I need you to solve this for me!”

“That doesn’t--” He growled angrily, grumbling.

“We really do need your help, Dr. Dremash,” Pim politely told him, doing her uttermost to contain her panic. “We really do. I do not think a normal medical doctor would be able to solve this.”

Did his expression soften? Possibly. If it did, it most likely wasn’t because he felt guilty for his attitude -- that would be one of the last things on the list. Instead, Pim’s words gave him a boost of confidence. There were rare times when his ego came in handy, and one of those rare occasions was at this moment. Yes, he realized, a normal medical doctor wouldn’t be able to solve this. I am an alchemist. The royal alchemist. I can solve this.

“Well…” he began, ambling cautiously towards Victoria, “thorns are protruding out of her skin, are they not? It must… have to do with her plant magic.”

“That is what I thought, too,” Pim commented.

“I was-- I was bleeding a lot,” Victoria stammered nervously. “The blood was bubbling.”

“Your blood was bubbling,” he repeated. “That is extremely absurd. Bubbling blood should not come out of such rashes.”

“No fucking shit,” Susan spat, in which Aemilius glared at her once more.

“It’s similar to an infection, perhaps,” he continued, looking at a safe distance at the thorns. “Sometimes, you must remove something inside of your body to stop the infection. Like a parasite. Perhaps if we remove these thorns, it will stop the rash and pain. We cannot just let the thorns stay there, after all.”

Victoria’s teary eyes widened, and she bit her lip. “B-But… B-But isn’t that gonna hurt?”

“Yes,” Aemilius slowly said. “But I’m sure that if we were to take you to a medical doctor, they would suggest the same exact thing.” He looked at Susan. “Now, where are your tools?”

“What the hell are you suggesting?” she retorted.

“We pull the thorns out of her skin.”

Susan immediately darted forward. “What?! No!! You can’t just come here and declare that you’re going to randomly do that shit! You have no idea what that’s going to do to her!!”

“Then what do you suggest?” Aemilius sneered.

“How about we wait until we know what’s actually wrong and exactly how to solve it?”

“Oh, please. What do you want? To take her to a medical doctor? Nobody could figure out the reason for her rash, so how would there be a proper treatment for thorns coming out of her skin? We must take them out.”

As Victoria began to squirm and cry, Pim gently and protectively wrapped her arms around her shoulders, cooing to her to relax and that she was going to be okay. Deep down, a seed of doubt was planted into her chest and was beginning to sprout into a flower of fear.

Susan didn’t want to let her guard down so quickly, especially when up against Dr. Dremash. That maternal feeling in her gut sharpened. “You will not be doing that to Tori,” she snapped.

“Then what else do you suppose we could do?” Aemilius snarked, crossing his arms and sighing. “Wait it out?”

Susan clenched her mouth before crossing her arms to match the alchemist’s challenging stance. “Yes. We wait it out. We see if it gets worse or not.”

“And then…?”

“And… And then we’ll all decide whether we should take the thorns out or not.”

“Fine.”

And so they waited. After Victoria managed to explain that the thorns had come out after she used plant magic on the succulent on her nightstand, it was uncomfortably quiet, save for her heart pounding in her ears. Her limbs were racking with pain, and every time she tried to move, she stifled a pained whimper and curled up. Pim stared at the thorns. She wondered if it was made out of the bones in Victoria’s body. She had reached out a hand to try and touch the thorns, but she stopped herself for Victoria’s sake.

Susan was nervously fidgeting with the miniature version of AI, allowing the device to scan Victoria’s body. Pim’s question was answered when certain parts of the screen were highlighted in green to separate the bones from other material. The thorns were highlighted, and they seemed to be coming deep from within Victoria’s arms and legs, twisting around the bones.

A shaking hand went through Susan’s hair. “Oh, baby, I’m so sorry,” she whispered shakily to Victoria. She swallowed. “I don’t understand how that even happens.”

“It has to do with her magic,” Aemilius muttered.

“We already know that, shithead!” Susan snapped. “Stop pointing out the obvious!”

“I think we should all take some time to calm down,” Pim suggested.

“Y-Yeah,” Victoria squeaked, holding tightly onto Pim. “Calm...Calm down.”

Susan sucked in a sharp breath and held it before exhaling, bringing her shaking hands to her messy brown hair. “Right,” she said. “Right. Calm down. Relax. Everything’s going to be okay.”

She sat down onto one of the sofas, massaging her temples and continue to take deep breaths. For the next minute or two, Aemilius simply glared at her, already ticked off by her moodiness and feeling that she was being far too impulsive to be acting like this. The only issue with that was that he didn’t understand her parental instincts and how out of control they could get; Aemilius himself didn’t have any parental instincts to be brought up quite yet. He was just an alchemist who wanted to mind his own business for now.

Sighing quietly, he muttered once more, “It has to do with her magic. Studies have shown before that an extreme and constant overuse and push of magical energy can harm a mage. There are several cases in the past that have shown a mage suffering the after effect, but the result doesn’t exactly match up with what is happening with Victoria right now.”

“What were the cases?” Pim asked curiously.

Aemilius paused. He looked up. “The mages would explode gruesomely.”

Victoria flinched, and immediately her eyes began darting back and forth to the people in the room. “Th-That’s not gonna h-happen to me, right?”

Susan shook her head, giving her a weak smile. “No, no, of course not! You’ll be okay.”

“She will not explode,” Aemilius mused. “But since she said that the thorns came out after she used her plant magic, I can conclude that the use of it is what’s causing her to have these botanical changes. It would be best to keep her away from any source of plants, trees, nature, everything in the outside world.”

They were all stunned. Aemilius let the silence flow before he stood up, looking at Susan. “Where are your tools?” he asked.

“You’re not getting them,” she growled.

“May I use AI?”

“No.”

“Fine, then. I’ll use my own methods.”

Aemilius then reached into his pocket and pulled out a knife.

That was already alarming enough. Susan yelped and dashed forward, tightly gripping Aemilius’ wrists. He clenched his teeth as she pinned him against the wall, suddenly slipping the knife out of his hands and held it up against his throat. “Don’t you dare,” she snarled at him.

Pim jumped up, yelling, “Sue, what are you doing?!”

“I’m teaching him to stay the hell away from Tori!”

“You’re going to hurt him!”

“And he’s going to hurt Tori!”

Aemilius could only choke out the few words without getting cut by his own knife. “Let me-- do-- what I need to do--”

“Shut up,” Susan snarled. “You are--”

“G-Guys,” Victoria squeaked, “i-it’s getting worse…”

All three of them turned to the girl on the couch. She was shivering. On the rashes on her body, an unhealthy, almost rotten-green color began to spread around the patches. A foul, egg-like smell emitted from them.

Susan gawked. Then she heard Aemilius croak, “Let me-- do it--”

She continued to hold him there for a few more moments before letting him go, giving him back his knife and muttering threateningly, “Be careful.”

He rubbed his throat with a hand, not taking his wide eyes off of her. Then, he cautiously made his way over to Victoria. This would be better if she would allow me to use her tools, he thought to himself.

Victoria shook with fear, biting down on her lip. Pim held onto her hand tightly. “It’s going to be okay,” she whispered to her. “Just stay still, it’s okay.”

“N-No…”

“It’s going to be okay.” Pim’s hands were sweaty. “Here, you can bite down on your cloak.” She brought up the collar of Victoria’s cloak to her mouth. Victoria bit down hesitantly, beginning to shake with sobs.

“Shh, shh, Tori, it’s okay…” Pim’s voice was wavering. “It’ll be over before you know it.”

Aemilius approached the two carefully. He knelt down. Susan had given him a small bucket to put the thorns in when they were taken out. His stern blue eyes looked straight at Victoria, and he gestured to her calmly. “Stay as still as you can,” he instructed calmly but tensely. “Something could go wrong if you move.”

Victoria nodded, fat tears dribbling down her face. She sniffled. Susan was on the other end of the couch, glaring with barely contained fury at Aemilius.

His gloved hands slowly approached one of her legs. Cautiously and gently, he pressed one of his fingers against one of the thorns. Victoria winced. Aemilius then pressed the blade of his knife on the other side of the thorn so that he was trapping it in his grasp.

He began to pull slowly. Victoria tensed up, whining as her watery eyes squeezed shut. The thorn shifted only slightly. Even Aemilius himself winced. Blood was beginning to crawl around the thorn, forming a red ring.

Aemilius tried to pull the thorn out, but it seemed like it needed a lot more force.

“Okay,” he exhaled. “I am going to count to three. Alright? Stay still. One, two… three!”

He tugged the thorn out. Blood splattered from the tiny wound as Victoria screamed, sobbing. A long stem was connected to the thorn, caked in red. Aemilius cringed as he pulled the stem all the way until it was completely out. He gave it a look of disgust before plopping it into the bucket.

“You bastard!” Susan shrieked. “You said you’d be careful!”

“It wouldn’t budge!” he shouted back. “I needed to add a little bit of force!”

Victoria was crying loudly against Pim, sniffling and sobbing and whining. Pim did her best to comfort her by wiping her tears and whispering little words of affection. She couldn’t prevent an inch of anger at Aemilius from growing into her; hearing Victoria cry and wail was one of the worst things that she had heard.

“I--” Aemilius swallowed, looking at the two girls and avoiding Susan’s gaze. “I believe AI showed that not all of the thorns had long stems like that.”

“Oh, shut it!” Susan snapped. “There is no fucking way you’re going to continue doing this to her!!”

“Surgeons would’ve done the same!”

“When she was asleep and numbed!!” Susan began to tug at her hair. “Ohh god, why the hell did I let this happen?”

“E-Everybody calm down,” Pim tried to reassure them all. She felt like a rope in a tug of war, struggling to keep Victoria tied down safely while Aemilius and Susan were attempting to pull at opposite ends. “I agree with Susan. I think that this should stop.”

“Oh please,” Aemilius barked, “if anything, I think her wild bickering should stop!”

“Say that again and you won’t have any ears to hear my bickering!!” Susan shot back.

“Both of you aren’t making this situation any better!” Pim yelled, frustration fueling her. Victoria’s sobs and cries continued to ring in her ears. “Just stop!! Victoria’s upset because of you two!”

The two of them paused, and they turned to take a good look at Victoria. She was quivering violently in Pim’s arms. Grossly sobbing, she laid her head against the ice mage’s chest, squeezing her eyes shut. Susan’s expression softened. Aemilius’ expression stiffened and he crossed his arms, turning his back from the group.

“I’m sorry, Tori,” Susan cooed. “It’s okay. He’s not gonna pull out any more thorns.”

“I...It hurts,” she whispered.

Susan looked like she had just gotten struck in the heart. She came over to Victoria and outstretched a hand before thinking better of it. She averted her gaze. “I’ll get...stuff. To clean up the blood.”

Aemilius stayed put, wishing that he had fought Susan off somehow before he ended up here.

#horror!au deleted scenes #long post #blood tw #injury tw #gore tw #body horror tw #ask to tag #twisty's writing #i kinda wish i kept this scene in #or some variation #because tori's chapter imo was missing some spooky disturbing parts

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