#I’m sure if John could come back from the dead he’d tell me it’s not that deep

[and-i-like-youuu]

Queerness and I Want To Hold Your Hand

Lately, I've been thinking about the potential queer themes in I Want To Hold Your Hand. The only reason I started thinking about it was because of this quote I saw on one of amoralto's posts where John Lennon said:

"It’s a plus, it’s not a minus. The plus is that your best friend, also, can hold you without… I mean, I’m not a homosexual, or we could have had a homosexual relationship and maybe that would have satisfied it, with working with other male artists. [faltering] An artist – it’s more – it’s much better to be working with another artist of the same energy, and that’s why there’s always been Beatles or Marx Brothers or men, together. Because it’s alright for them to work together or whatever it is. It’s the same except that we sleep together, you know? I mean, not counting love and all the things on the side, just as a working relationship with her, it has all the benefits of working with another male artist and all the joint inspiration, and then we can hold hands too, right?"

— John Lennon, interview w/ Sandra Shevey. (1972)

There's so much to unpack from this quote, but I'm going to focus on the last bit of it which really caught my attention. Whilst talking about his creative and romantic relationship with Yoko, John consistently compared it to the kind of creative relationship he had with male artists and how his relationship with her was a lot like the relationships he had had with other male artists except that he was allowed to be in love with her.

If we deconstruct the quote and bullet point each of the qualities he listed as positives with his relationship with Yoko this is what we get:

"A best friend who can hold you without..." I don't want to speak for John or twist his words, but I think the word "fear" or "disgust" can fit very naturally at the end of that thought. And while he doesn't finish that thought, it's pretty clear where he was going with that because he cuts himself off by claiming "I mean, I'm not a homosexual."

"An artist – it’s more – it’s much better to be working with another artist of the same energy..." My take on the "same energy" means same wave-length or same creative chemistry. Or, his equal.

"It’s the same except that we sleep together, you know?" as opposed to him and other male artists.

"just as a working relationship with her, it has all the benefits of working with another male artist"

"Joint inspiration"

"And then we can hold hands too, right?"

If we take away any sense of pronouns and just look at the way John looks at the kind of creative/romantic partnership he valued so much, he placed a lot of emphasis on the creative energy of the relationship as well as the physical aspect of that kind of relationship. There's this sense that he has had a relationship a lot like the one he had with Yoko except that he had wanted a lot of romantic things he could not have because the other artist was male. But with Yoko, he could have it all because she’s a woman.

And that last bit where John said he could hold hands with Yoko struck me as a bit of an odd example to give, but then when I remembered I'm queer I was like OH.

Because, in the heteronormativity of back then, wouldn't a man and woman holding hands be okay? It would've just seem perfectly natural. But why would he have phrased it like a question: "And then we can hold hands too, right?" unless he had, at one point, thought of the alternative: holding hands with another man.

Just so it doesn't seem like I'm beating around the bush here, I think John was thinking about Paul in that entire quote. Which then leads me onto the song I Want To Hold Your Hand.

"We wrote a lot of stuff together, one-on-one, eyeball to eyeball. Like in ‘I Want To Hold Your Hand’, I remember when we got the chord that made the song. We were in Jane Asher’s house, downstairs in the cellar playing on the piano at the same time. And we had, ‘Oh you-u-u… got that something…’ And Paul hits this chord and I turn to him and say, ‘That’s it!’ I said, ‘Do that again!’ In those days, we really used to absolutely write like that – both playing into each other’s nose."

John Lennon, 1980 All We Are Saying, David Sheff

I included the above quote because it exemplified the kinds of qualities John liked in a creative/romantic partner. He didn't say it directly, but based off that quote you could tell John thought he and Paul had a lot of creative energy together, "We wrote a lot of stuff together, one-on-one, eyeball to eyeball." You could tell that songwriting with Paul was an incredibly intimate and special activity with him. And he emphasized their closeness again at the end of that quote when he said, "In those days, we really used to absolutely write like that---both playing into each other's nose." (Okay. They totally kissed ahfjkdhas I'm only joking...but am I?).

As I said, there's a sense of physical closeness to his description, but if you'll notice, there's no actual touching involved. Just a closeness that borders on an invasion of one’s space. "Eyeball-to-eyeball" and "into each other's noses." And then, the "one-on-one," this was something only they did with each other. All their focus on each other.

So, compared with the quote about Yoko about how John could have all that physical and open affection with her. I believe this quote exemplifies John's desire to have had more with Paul.

Okay, so I keep saying I'm going to talk about the song, and I am! But first, some context. I Want To Hold Your Hand was written in 1963; homosexuality remained illegal until 1967 in England. Given that backdrop, if John had had feelings for Paul he wouldn’t have been able to act on them even if he wanted to. Assuming, that is, he was aware of his feelings.

So, to the song!

This was a song both of them wrote together; therefore, it’s hard to say who wrote what lyrics, but I’d like to look at it with a queer lens.

If you look at the lyrics as a whole, there are no pronouns. The song is directed at “you.” Which, in general, is brilliant because it means it could be anyone. Fans could imagine it was them they were singing about or they could imagine someone they wanted to hold hands with too. And also when you think about how John and Paul wrote it “eyeball-to-eyeball” and “into each others noses” … well. It could very well be a confession disguised as a song.

The “let me hold your hand” is one or both of them asking for permission to hold hands. Given the backdrop of criminalized homosexuality, an act like that would’ve been considered “gross indecency” and punishable by law. And to sing that in front of millions? Everyone would’ve assumed they were singing about a vague/general “you,” but if John for instance had had Paul in mind, it would’ve been like asking him in front of the whole audience, the whole world, for permission to hold hands with him. Alongside that it also would’ve been like asking for the audience’s permission to do it as well, in a way. Because the only thing that stopped him from doing that or asking that, I’m sure, were the laws and the homophobia of the time. So, it very well could’ve been let me hold his hand.

The “I wanna hold your hand” is the same as the above except it’s a confession not a request. I want to do this, but the I cant goes unsaid. Which begs the question of why? If we look at it from a hetero perspective, the likely explanation would be “oh, because she doesn’t feel the same way” or “she doesn’t know his feelings” or whatever. But from a queer lens, well, we know why.

Given what John said about his thoughts about creative/romantic partners and how much he valued physical closeness, the lines “And when I touch you / I feel happy inside” serve as a reflection of that. Which I can’t help but recall when Paul said John told him:

So, with that lyric, the act of touch would’ve felt especially significant during that time especially since physical affection between men, even if it was platonic, would’ve been seen as taboo. But the “happy inside” is a private feeling, which is being confessed about in the song.

In queer literature, there are often themes of “hiding” to be found. So, I find the inclusion of the lyric “I can’t hide” very interesting. Because the song itself is the opposite of hiding, in a way. It was putting feelings out there without outing oneself.

In a nutshell, I believe I Want To Hold Your Hand is a veiled confessional love song with queer connotations.

[fangirl-writes]

The Fall

JJ Maybank x Reader; Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warning(s): swearing, drugs, mentions of child abuse, assault.

12K Words.

Request can be found here.

Summary: When JJ takes the fall for you, you're determined to break even, even if that includes sacrificing yourself to the kooks. But there's more to it than that. This is the story of a deal, a debt, and more complicated feelings than you can handle.

Notes: Babes this is a behemoth. I think it’s the longest fic I’ve ever written (which is why I’ve been dead for months lmao) but I wanted to tell the story the request was asking for in a proper way and I think I did. Here we are.

In hindsight, you could’ve handled it better.

But if there was anything to know about you, it was that you're reckless and that nobody messes with your friends.

Especially not Pope.

It was just karma, right?

Just karma when Topper’s 2020 Malibu luxury boat sank like a brick to the bottom of the dock.

But no, as JJ would say, this was war.

You didn’t think they’d find out. Didn’t think charges would be pressed. And you definitely didn’t think they’d blame Pope for it.

“Hey, Pope,” Heyward said, coming into the shop where the group of you (minus John B. because where the heck was he anyway?) were packing groceries. “There’s someone here to see you.”

Pope straightened immediately upon seeing Shoupe enter behind his dad.

“Evening officer.”

“I have an arrest warrant for felony destruction of property,” Shoupe said.

Pope looked back at you and JJ with horror in his eyes.

“Keep your hands on the counter where I can see them.”

“Woah, woah, woah,” you protested.

“Shoupe what’d he do?”

Shoupe pulled Pope’s hands behind his back, “take a look at the warrant, Heyward.”

Your heartbeat sped up as you took in the situation, Kiara, JJ, and Heyward protesting over each other, Pope’s expression more scared by the second as they hauled him out towards the squad car.

And you made a decision.

Hang the consequences; hang your college career and whatever else you had to deal with. This was your fault.

You opened your mouth to admit it, to tell Shoupe the truth of the matter, but before you could get a word out, JJ’s hand covered your mouth, pulling you back and gesturing for you to stay quiet.

You shook your head slightly, searching his face for a reason.

He gave you a sad, tight lipped smile, and turned away.

“It wasn’t him!”

Your heart sank as you realized what JJ was about to do.

“It was me.”

Tears welled up in your eyes. “JJ, please-“

“No, Y/N, it’s okay,” he replied. “They tried to talk me out of it, but I was mad because he’d just been beaten up. And I was so fed up with those assholes from Figure 8 that I just lost my shit.”

It was the whole story. Word for word the truth…except that it was you and not him.

Pope looked at you and then at JJ.

“I can’t let you take the blame for something I did.”

JJ looked back at you and then Pope. “You’ve just got too much to lose.”

“JJ, what are you doing?” Pope asked.

“I’m telling the truth,” he replied. “For once in my goddamn life, I’m gonna tell the truth.”

You looked at Kiara, then at Pope, then at JJ.

Why? Why was he doing this?

“I took his old man’s boat, too.”

“What the hell?” Heyward said.

“JJ, come on-“ you said, taking a step forward.

“Just shut up, Y/N!” JJ said, voice so loud it made you curl away. “Just shut up.”

The tears began to fall.

“He’s a good kid,” JJ said to Shoupe. “You know where I’m from.”

Shoupe eyed him before replying, “yeah.”

“It’s just all me.”

You couldn’t let JJ do this, but if you came forward now everything would unravel and Pope would surely be hauled in regardless.

So, it was over.

You let JJ take the fall for you, watching him be carted away like the criminal that he wasn’t.

“I’m gonna kill him for this,” you said.

You’d know JJ for almost as long as you’d known Pope.

The two of you crossing over with JJ and John B. in fourth grade and the rest was history. You were mirrors in a way; John B. and Pope the more level-headed, less impulsive two, while you and JJ were more reckless, more stupid.

Pope always told you it was going to get you in trouble one day.

Your family thought the same.

You had a foul mouth, delinquent friends, a weed habit that was consistently enabled, and anger issues that probably needed put in check.

Hence the revenge plot.

But then there was JJ. The other side of your coin, your enabler, your partner in crime. It always worked out and he always assured you it would. And you always believed him.

But not this time.

When JJ showed up to Midsummers, where you were helping out Pope and Heyward, you went after him.

“What the hell were you thinking?”

“Woah, hey, Y/N. No, ‘thanks for saving my ass, JJ, you’re so hot for that’?”

“Don’t. Not now.”

He chuckled uncomfortably as you took his face in your hands.

A busted lip he’d already had, though the blood was fresh, but the bruises littering his face and upper body were all new.

“Did Luke do this to you?” You hissed. “Did that asshole rough you up for a thing you didn’t do?”

“I’m fine! Look, he was just pissed about the money-“ JJ said, a waver in his voice.

“What money?”

“Restitution. I’ve gotta pay for what I broke. 30k.”

“30k?!” You squeaked.

“Shh!” JJ said, hands on your shoulders. “Look I’m on a mission here and you’re gonna blow my cover.”

“What? JJ, we’ve gotta talk about this. I’ve been worried sick-“

“Sick? You don’t look sick.”

“Stop! JJ, god! I should never have let you do that, I should’ve spoke up-“

“Y/N!” Your face in his hands, JJ scared you silent for the second time that day. “Shut up, okay? Trust me. Trust. Me.”

Pope was there next, hugging JJ and blabbering just as you had been, but JJ shut him down.

“John B. and I got it all sorted out,” he said. “We’re gonna be filthy rich. We’re back in the G-game, baby.”

“What?” You hissed quietly. “We’re still on the gold thing?”

“I thought we lost the G-game,” Pope said.

“Yeah, well, we’re in overtime now.”

Your head was spinning. Between the restitution and the gold and JJ’s bruised face, you wanted to go back in time. Change the outcome and maybe you’d be the one who took the fall for once.

Maybe for once you could’ve protected JJ.

“Be right back,” he said. “I’ll explain later.”

You watched him go, confused and worried.

“What the hell is he talking about?”

Ignoring Pope, you followed JJ, watching him pass off a note to Sarah before getting intercepted by Rafe and Kelce.

"I'm wonderin' if you could get me a mai tai, my friend?"

"Yeah, pogue, how about you make that two?"

"Well, I'm on the clock right now. You guys look spiffy," JJ replied. "You know, uh, I got a couple of orders ahead of you, so why don't you guys go ahead and wait by the bar?"

No. No, no, no, no, no. You wouldn’t let this happen again.

"Until then, help yourself to some hors d’oeuvres."

"Oh yeah?" Rafe said, motioning to a few more kooks. "Hey guys, JJ's gonna serve us some hors d’oeuvres."

JJ began to backpedal, running out of the situation and you hurriedly followed.

It was quite a scene, JJ running through the Island Club, the kook guys chasing him, and you chasing them.

“Hey, man, what’re you doing in the locker room, huh?”

JJ immediately turned around and tried to head the way he came, but he was surrounded.

“Wow, that’s a cute outfit,” JJ said, stumbling into Rafe.

“Shut up,” Rafe replied, shoving him into Kelce.

“Hold him still. What do you think? A four iron, right?” Rafe said, adjusting his hands like he was holding a golf club. “Keep his head still, I’m gonna line this up.”

“Very Rafe of you, Rafe,” JJ spat, struggling to breathe. “Five on one?”

"Now, would you please stop talking?" Rafe replied with a smirk. “It’s very disrespectful when I’m trying to hit a ball. Learn your etiquette my friend.”

"Rafe!"

A surprised pause washed over the locker room as you slid into view.

"Oh, another pogue to the rescue," Rafe said. "You gotta have girls save you now, JJ? Tut, tut."

"Rafe." You repeated sternly. "Let him go."

"Oh, no shot, milkmaid," he replied, leaning down at JJ. "Your face looks really bad. Starting to look like your dad a lot more.”

JJ spit in his face.

Rafe laughed, wiping it away with ease, looking almost impressed. “Oh, shit! See, now I'm even less inclined to let him go."

"Rafe!" you swallowed. "You let him go...and you can have me."

"What?" Rafe asked.

"What?!" JJ protested, struggling harder against Kelce.

Rafe stalked towards you. "Now, why would I want you?"

"Cause you always have," you said. "And" - you leaned closer to him, voice a whisper - "if you don't, I'll tell your dad exactly where all his money has been going."

You'd found Rafe's stash of dope multiple times back when you worked for the Camerons as a maid alongside your mom.

You never ratted, never had a reason to, until now.

"You know he'll believe me."

Rafe's eyes narrowed.

"Now let him go."

A beat, a standoff.

And Rafe snapped his fingers.

Kelce dropped JJ, who coughed and stumbled towards you.

"Okay, Y/N, we're even now, you saved me, let's go."

You smiled at him. "We're not even yet."

Before he could ask what you meant, the lights started flickering and you let out a sigh of relief as security entered the room.

“Gentlemen,” he said. “Is there a problem here, guys?”

“Oh! Pardon me, officer. No there’s not an issue, I just-” JJ said before starting over. “Actually, yes. No, there is an issue.”

You watched JJ get to work. He could talk himself out of a situation better than anyone you knew.

“Uh, we got a criminal trespass in progress here. Beep! Call it in, right? Blatant disrespect for private property,” JJ said.

The kooks looked like they wanted to react, but they wouldn’t so they wouldn’t get in trouble with their daddies.

"As you can see, I’m in violation of all kinds of shit, sir. But these young gentleman...”

JJ straightened Kelce’s collar.

“...uh, caught me, sir, and they’re about to take me away. And that’s what you should do, escort me outta here. All right.”

Security, not caring enough to refute JJ’s bullshit of a story, did as requested and led him out of the room.

“Fix that tie, son,” JJ said, one last quip. “You’re lookin’ spiffy, too. You Powerpuff Girls have fun. Y/N, come on.”

But you didn't move. Rafe's hands falling on your arms, his head hovering too close to your face. "I'll take good care of her, JJ, don't you worry. She's pretty hot for a pogue!"

“JJ, don’t!” You said but he’d already ripped himself away and went back to fight.

Thankfully, the security guard was there to separate them all again.

"Y/N!"

You felt your stomach dip as he called for you but you didn't move.

"Let's go guys," Rafe demanded, motioning for all his buddies to exit the room. Then he whispered in your ear. "I knew you'd come crawling to me eventually."

It sent a shiver up your spine.

Truth was, back in the day, you didn't think Rafe was so bad.

Maybe it was because it was always within earshot of his dad, but he'd always been nice to you when you worked for his family. Especially after you ran across his stash.

Course, it wasn't long after that that your family got the boot as apparently the Camerons decided having a maid was too bougie for them.

You always suspected he was the reason, but you don't have any proof of that.

And now, well, how does a poor person get 30k?

Maybe the lottery, maybe life insurance.

Or maybe they steal it.

It was just karma right? For all the years that the kooks had been giving pogues a hard time.

And the Camerons probably wouldn't even notice a little 30k was gone.

Right?

--

JJ was pacing at Rixon's cove.

The group had gone over the plan, where the gold was, the fight about Sarah.

"Just shut up, Kiara!" JJ shouted.

They all looked at him with wide eyes.

"Look, if we can meet with Sarah, maybe she can tell me if- maybe she can tell me where-"

"JJ, you're scaring us, bro, what is it?"

"It's Y/N."

"What?"

"JJ, where's Y/N?" Pope said.

"She gave herself up for me man!" JJ cried. "It was some eye for an eye bullshit, I told her we were even but she wouldn't listen! Now she's probably being Rafe's chew toy or something."

"Okay, gross."

"I'm serious! You didn't see the way he was looking at her, man. Like she was a piece of meat. I gotta go, I gotta save her-"

"Woah, JJ," John B. intercepted his friend. "You're gonna go running back into the lion's den? The only thing this is going to do is get Y/N and you into more trouble. We'll save, Y/N, I promise. And if she's at the Camerons' then Sarah there too and she won't let anything happen to Y/N."

He was distraught. "JB, you don't understand-"

"JJ," John B. said. "She's gonna be okay."

--

"You're better off without her man, trust me, I live with the bitch," Rafe said, arm thrown around you in Topper's car.

"Rafe, don't call your sister a bitch, man, come on," Topper replied.

"Yo, I'll call her whatever I want man. All right?"

You couldn't figure Topper out.

One minute he was nearly drowning John B. and the next he was defending Sarah's honor.

Seriously, what was his deal? Friend or fo?

"Come on, bro. Drink up, all right?" Kelce encouraged from the passenger.

"You really think you should be drinking and driving?" You asked, trying to grab the beer from Topper's hold but Rafe pulled you back.

"Ah, ah, ah, little pogie," he said. "Only speak when spoken to."

You glared at him.

"I gotta see her, man," Topper said. "We're not...we're not good right now."

"Shut up, shut up, shut up. Shut up, dude. Bad idea, muchacho," Rafe said.

"Just stick with the bevo, all right?" Kelce said.

You felt like a guppy surrounded by sharks.

"If you go there now, there is a high likelihood you go fetal," Rafe continued.

"Exactly."

"I'm not- I'm not going fetal," Topper argued.

"All right. It's your funeral." Rafe said. "It's your funeral."

Topper pulled up to the Camerons’ and got out, heading for the house.

"While we have the time," Rafe said. "How about we hammer out the details of our little deal here?"

"What deal?" You snapped.

"The deal where I lay off JJ and you stay here, with me."

"Oh-kay, I'm getting out," Kelce said, popping open the passenger door and bailing from the car.

"There is no deal, Rafe," you said. "You let JJ go and I'm here. That's all there is to it."

"No, no, no," Rafe replied, tightening his hold on you. "You said I could have you. That means you're mine now."

You sucked in a breath. "You're drunk. And probably high."

"I wouldn't blow at a party full of socialites all right? I'm not crazy."

Debatable.

"You on the other hand, I would love to see blow," he said, tugging on your chin.

Your face contorted with disgust as you pushed his hand off you.

He chuckled. "All right, we'll lead up to that. I'm sure you'll want it eventually."

"What makes you say that?"

"Well, you're here right now, aren't you?" he said. "If you detested me as much as you act like you do, you wouldn't have gotten in this car."

Okay. True.

But he didn't know what you were really there for. In fact, he couldn't know. If he knew, you'd probably be arrested or worse.

And you needed to get that money.

"Fine. I'm yours," you said. "For now."

He smiled. "I could get used to hearing that. Come on, I'm not waiting on Topper."

He popped open the door and the two of you jumped out. He slung his arm back around your shoulders. "Bye, Kelce."

"Don't have too much fun, you two," he said back.

Rafe flipped him off as you guys entered the house.

"Rafe!" Ward came around the corner. His eyebrows going up at the sight of you. "And Ms. Y/N. I haven't seen you in a while, how are you? How's your mom?"

"We're both doing good, thanks," you replied, giving him an awkward smile.

He glanced between you. "So. Are you two-"

"Night, dad." Rafe said, pulling you along behind him and up the stairs.

"Hey, Rafe, no funny business! I'm serious, young man!" Ward called after you.

You couldn't help but laugh a little, despite the situation.

Rafe looked back at you and smirked.

He opened the door to his room.

It looked exactly as you remembered it, albeit messier.

"Sorry, didn't have time to clean up," he said, milling about the room as you took it in. "I'm sure you're dying for a hit."

You looked over to find him offering you a joint.

"Don't worry, it's just weed, I promise."

Though you weren't exactly inclined to believe him, you weren't in much of a situation to argue, so you took it.

Pulling a lighter out of your pocket, you lit the joint and took a drag.

It was almost muscle memory, having done the exact motion with JJ a number of times before.

Your stomach lurched.

JJ. What was he thinking right now? Was he okay?

You looked up and choked on the blunt smoke.

Rafe had taken off his shirt and was digging through his dresser for something.

You coughed into your hand, waving away the smoke and avoiding looking at him again. Shit. Had he always been attractive? Was that wrong to think?

"You, uh, want some clothes to change into, or?"

You looked at him again; he'd put a shirt on and at some point had changed into plaid pants.

"Uh, no, thanks I'm- I'm good," you replied, passing him the joint back.

He took a drag of it before stabbing it out in an ashtray near by, blowing the smoke through his nose.

He sat down on the bed next to you, sighing. He swayed a little, the alcohol and weed making its way through his system and relaxing him.

"If I tell you something," he started. "You promise you won't tell anyone else?"

JJ always said you had this way about you. A way that made people trust you, to believe you'd keep their secrets. Still, Rafe's sudden need to confide in you took you by surprise.

"I never told your dad about the drugs..."

"You can't use this against me," he said, looking you in the eyes. "You have to promise."

He was scaring you a little but, the intesity in his eyes a kind of seriousness you'd never seen before.

Cockiness, confidence, anger, even fear, but this was something new.

"I promise."

There was silence for a few moments as he hesitated, eyebrows knit together like he was thinking hard about what to say.

You were about to say something, ask him what it was, when-

"I'm scared."

You blinked. Of all the things he could have said, you were probably expecting that the least.

"Of what?" you asked.

"Of- Of-" he laughed breathily. "Of everything. That I've disappointed my dad. That I've ruined my life. That I'm spiraling out of control."

He put his head between his knees, running his fingers through his hair.

You weren't sure what to say. You didn't know him enough to reassure him none of it was true. To try to ease his fears. And, truth be told, you didn't like him enough to lie to him about it.

"I'm just...I don't know what to do."

A swell of pity trembled through you. Pity for the boy who's had a silver spoon in his mouth his whole life.

Who beat Pope with a golf club just because he was a pogue.

The pity morphed into anger.

You wanted to scream at him, tell him just what you thought about him and his fears.

But, then again, you were a pogue. If he beat up Pope for just walking by, what would he do to you if you did?

Swallowing the anger, you reached out and rubbed his back, soothingly.

If you could just pretend for a night that he was your friend, that he wasn't a total asshole, then you could get what you came here for. And, hopefully, never have to be alone with him again.

Rafe reached up, taking one of your hands in his. "Thank you," he said, squeezing it.

He sniffed, shifting his body so that he was facing you.

"I'm sorry. For dumping all that on you, you don't need that. You probably hate my guts anyway," he said.

You didn't reply.

"Then again," he said. "You're not running away screaming. Why is that?"

You licked your lips nervously, silent.

"Just this morning you would've spat in my face but you were willing to come here with me just to save your friend. And your still here. Why?"

"I'm a woman of my word," you said. "I said you could have me, remember?"

Rafe hummed. "And now?" his hand came up to brush along your cheek. "Can I have you now?"

The action fizzled out the anger from before and you felt your cheeks heat up.

What could you say?

Well, "no" probably would've been sufficient. Still, there was a lingering curiosity that ate at you as he leaned closer, eyes trained on your lips.

It was wrong, wasn't it? To wonder what it was like?

"I'm gonna need an answer here," Rafe said before repeating. "Can I have you now?"

The word left your lips before you could think about it. "Yes."

Then his lips were on yours. Softly, more gently than you ever would've imagined it, like he was savoring the moment, like he wasn't thinking at all.

He tasted like weed and beer, as you should've expected, but it strangely wasn't unpleasant.

It reminded you of JJ, who you kissed once before, drunkely at a beach blowout.

Neither of you talked about it afterwardds, but something in your dynamic had shifted after that.

Was thinking about JJ while kissing Rafe weird? Surely a girl shouldn't be thinking about someone else while kissing a guy.

I mean, surely Sarah wasn't thinking about someone else while kissing Topper-

Oh.

Oh.

You pulled away, resting your hands on Rafe's chest.

"I-I'm sorry, I-"

"No, no," Rafe said. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-"

"It's okay, I gave you permission-"

"You're just in my room and I-"

You both took a pause and a breath.

You sighed. "I just- uh- I don't know if I'm into you like that."

"Oh."

He seemed disappointed.

"I'm sorry."

"It's fine." he said, in a tone that told you it wasn't. "It's late. I can take you home if you want, or you can stay here. We've got a bunch of guest rooms-"

"Can I," you interrupted. "Just sleep on the floor? In here?"

Something about sleeping in one of the Cameron's fancy bedrooms when you were planning on stealing from them seemed extra wrong.

"Uh, sure," Rafe said. "Whatever you want."

There are only three types of relationships in the animal kingdom.

The first is commensalism. Fish finding hiding spots in coral reefs, but life for the coral doesn't change.

It was your family moving to Outer Banks. It was the winding trees at the chateu that you climbed often.

Then, there's mutualism, a relationship where both animals benefit from each other.

It was your friendship with the pogues. It was what JJ's sacrifice was going to be when you got the money.

And third, the parasitic.

"This is your room," Sarah said as John B. walked into it, eyes a little wide.

"Woah," he said, then tossed his hat on the bed and set down his bag full of everything he owned. Which was, admittedly, not much.

"Not too shabby, huh?" Sarah said.

"Yeah. Not too shabby at all."

"John B!" You came flying down the hall and into his new room, practically jumping into his arms.

"Y/N! AH- bruises, wrist, please-" he said.

"Sorry, sorry, I'm sorry," you replied, backing away. "You okay?"

"Yeah. No, I'm good. I'm good."

You'd woken up that morning on Rafe's floor to about a thousand texts and calls on your now fully-charged phone telling you what happened at the hawk's nest.

Rafe had been the one to let you know, begrudgingly, that John B. would be staying at Tannyhill.

"Sarah Elizabeth Cameron," Ward said, coming around the corner. "And Ms. Y/N."

You gave him a respectful nod.

"You've already broken the first rule. What is the first rule?" Ward asked. "Stay out of each other's rooms."

You smiled.

"Seriously, this is like a minefield," he said, gesturing to the line at the doorframe. "Y/N, I can count on you to keep them in line?"

You mock saluted. "Yes, sir."

"Good," he said, pausing a moment. "Ladies, can you give me and the new inmate a quick minute here?"

"Oh, sure."

"Please be nice," Sarah asked.

"I'll be nice," Ward replied as the two of you left, walking down the hallway together.

The tension thickened immediately.

"So," Sarah started. "You and my brother, huh? What's that about?"y

Honestly, you weren't even sure yourself, but you gave her your most convicing smile. "I guess I kinda like him."

She didn't seem to be buying it. "I'm just saying, if you're doing this to prove a point or to get back at some pogue who hurt you. Stop."

You scowled. "And what about you and John B., huh? Last I heard you were dating Topper. He get too boring for you? Have you even broken up with him because last night-"

"Why don't you just stay out of my business and I'll stay out of yours? Deal?" she snapped.

You rolled your eyes but nodded and she turned her cold shoulder into her room, leaving you alone in the hall.

You heard Ward leave John B.'s room so you swung back around and into it.

He looked up from the map in his lap and folded it over immedaitely.

"Okay, what the hell," he said. "Seriously, Y/N, you and Rafe?"

"Look, I'm not doing this because I want to, okay?" you said, voice barely above a whisper. "JJ took a fall for me and I need to pay him back."

"By stealing from the Camerons?" John B. asked, tensly. "Do you realize how insane that sounds?"

"Well, unless you have a less crazy way to get 30k in my hands, this is it," you replied.

"The gold, Y/N, we're going to get the gold."

"You and I both know the gold is a longshot!"

"And this isn't?"

"Let me try this, JB, and if you find the gold before I find some money, let me know," You said, turning to leave before pausing in the doorway. "And, please, don't tell JJ what I'm doing. We both know what he'd do."

John B. knew JJ best. And you were right.

"My lips are sealed," he promised, reluctantly.

—

"I'm sorry. You're staying where?" Kiara asked, later at The Wreck.

"Tannyhill," John B. replied, matter-of-factly.

"So you're living with Sarah Cameron."

John B. rolled his eyes. "Okay, look, the only reason I'm living there is because her dad bailed me out, right? And it's way better than foster care, which, by the way, is where I was about to go.”

"Hey, so do you have a membership to the clubs now?" Pope asked, ignoring Kiara's expression.

"I don't know, Pope."

"What about those golf carts they drive around? You get one of them?" JJ asked.

"Does it come with a sweatervest, or do you have to buy one on your own?"

"Look, you promised," Kiara said. "You said you weren't with her."

"Bro, just own it," JJ said. "She got you."

"Look, if you wanna hang out with her, that's fine," Kiara said in a tone that indicated it was, in fact, not fine. "But I'm letting you know now that I'm not doing anything with Sarah."

"Do you guys see her here?" John B. asked.

"Don't see Y/N either," JJ said, pouting. "God, I can't believe she's still with Rafe. It's making my blood boil."

"She's fine, JJ," John B. said. "A little focus would be fantastic."

And while the pogues went on their treasure hunt, you went on yours.

Sarah was downstairs and Rafe had split before you woke up, leaving you a note that said where he'd gone.

It was kinda sweet.

And it made you feel kinda guilty when you snooped around his room.

You found the usual apparel; porn magazines, old drug paraphernalia, socks you didn't even think about touching. But you didn't find any money.

You groaned, falling back onto his bed. Shit. Okay.

You poked your head out the door, looking around to make sure no one was there, then you crept from Rafe's room to a few other rooms.

The ones that weren't locked, you came up empty. But the last door seemed promising.

It was Ward's office, that much was clear, judging by the big desk and bigger painting.

Your eyebrows raised.

Well, where in all the movies did the rich people hide their safes? Behind paintings.

You crept inside casually, in case anyone was in there. You could fake needing to ask Ward or Rose a question if you had to, and you could play off Wheezie easily.

But, the room was empty.

You closed the door quietly behind you, locking it in hopes that if anyone tried to come in, you'd be able to escape or find a hiding spot before they could get in.

You beelined for the painting, wanting this to be as quick and quiet as possible.

Just as you suspected, the painting was on hinges and, when you pulled it open, there was the safe.

Okay. Step one, done. Now step two.

If you were Ward Cameron, what would your safe code be? A kid’s birthday surely, but which kid?

You dug through Ward's desk, trying to find a notebook with passwords, a scrap of paper with it written down, a calendar with birthdays in it, anything, but nada.

So, you had to venture down the stairs and hope there was something down there that would help you.

Peaking over the banister, you didn't see anyone, so you crept silently down. Praying no one would hear you.

It would be uber weird to ask Sarah what her birthday was if you ran into her and it's not like she was your biggest fan anyway.

"Hey."

You froze, hearing Topper's voice from somewhere to your right.

"Hey, how's John B? Is he- is he doin' all right?"

"Like you give a shit."

You let out a breath, realizing he was talking to Sarah.

Making sure to avoid that room, you crept on.

"You realize I did not push him. He lost his balance and fell."

"Don't lie."

You slid open drawers, digging through as quietly as possible for a key, a code, even a little cash.

"He fell against the rail. Not my fault."

"That is messed up."

You peaked in another office, finding Rose's checkbook on the desk. And damn it, a check would not work. They'd know.

And you couldn't forge the signature of somebody who's signature you'd never seen.

"You forget about us, like- midsummers was supposed to be our- our coming-out party. That was supposed to be something special, right?"

"What does it matter, Topper? We're in high school, it's not like we're getting married."

You didn't mean to eavesdrop, but the conversation was getting heated. And, since Topper already pushed John B. off a tower, you wanted to be able to step in if you thought he was going to do anything to her.

However cold she felt about you.

So, you hid in an adjacent room and listened.

"I don't care anymore, Topper. I can't be with you, not after last night."

"Oh, after last night? You wanna talk about last night?" Topper said. "Did you forget the part where you cheated on me? Huh? Did you forget about that? You're a slut! You know that? You're a slut!"

"Watch your mouth when you talk about my daughter!" You heard Ward shout, the words nearly shaking the wall between them and you.

"Your daughter's banging a Pogue-"

Your breath caught as Topper's sentence was cut off by choking noises. Was- was Ward choking Topper?

You held your breath as he forced Topper out, the sound of him starting his car and taking off breaking through the silence.

You were shaking, trying your best not to panic as you heard Sarah cry and Ward comfort her.

That wasn't just overprotectiveness. That was a pure kind of rage. Ward was a man who would kill to get what he wanted and do it without blinking an eye.

And Rafe-

Fuck. What had you gotten yourself into.

—

John B. was wondering the same thing after Kiara stormed out.

"It'll be cool, right?" Sarah said icily. "I'm gonna leave."

"Sarah, don't-"

"Let y'all chat."

"Hey, hey, Sarah," JJ said, catching up to her before she split. "Is um- have you seen Y/N? Is she okay, or?"

Sarah scoffed. "I don't know why your pogue friend has been fucking my brother, but feel free to tell her to stop," she bit and JJ backed off.

You- you were fucking Rafe?

—

Well, no, you weren't. Actually you were scrolling through your phone, trying to forget what happened earlier, when Rafe came back.

"Hey, stranger, why didn't you-" you stopped, noticing the look on his face as he leaned against the door. "Are you okay?"

He had a scared look on his face, a burn on his arm. The look in his eyes resembled the way JJ always looked after-

You remembered Ward from before. The image of his hands around Topper's neck.

You got up from the bed, walking over to him and putting your hands on his shoulders, making him look you in the eyes. It was a gesture you'd done with the pogue boys for forever. When something was bothering them, it got them to spill their guts.

Rafe, it seemed, was no different.

He told you everything. The money he owed, the watch he was going pawn, the look on his dad's face when he was caught.

They were going to get Barry the money tonight. And then it would be over.

But the way he looked told you he knew it wouldn't be over. That something was different this time.

You hugged him.

You hugged the classist asshole.

Fuck. Truly, what had you gotten yourself into.

Rafe sent you home long before him and Ward went to settle the debt.

But he made sure to text you afterwards and let you know what had happened. "Don't come home" were the words that rang in his ears.

And made your heart ache.

"I can't let you stay with me, I'm sorry," you said over the phone.

"That's fine, I got friends. I'll figure it out."

"Good to hear," you said, closing the door of your car and heading for the chateau.

An urgent text from John B. got to you this morning that said: WE DID IT. COME TO CHATEAU ASAP.

"Hey, I gotta go, talk to you later, okay?"

"Yeah, sure," he replied and you hung up.

"HEY YOU GUYS!" you shouted, quoting The Electric Company to draw your friends out of the woodwork.

They came out in surprising pairs. Sarah and Kiara jumped out of the Twinkie and Pope and John B. turned away from a machine they were wrenching on.

"Y/N!"

"Aren't you a sight for sore eyes."

"Long time no see, sister."

"Hey guys," you said with a laugh, accepting the hugs given and the pogue handshake from Pope. "Where's-"

"Nice of you to finally join us," JJ called from the porch. "Having too much fun with your new fuck buddy to see your friends?"

"Oh-kay, I think we should leave you two alone," John B. said, grabbing Pope by the shoulders, whistling and jerking his head towards the house to get the girls to follow.

JJ set down what was in his hands and headed towards you.

"Look, JJ-"

"No, you don't get to go first," he said. "I saved your ass. You saved mine. We were supposed to be even, squared out. But you just, what? Decided that Rafe Cameron was more interesting than us? He got a big dick or something, please enlighten me on why you've been gone all this time."

"JJ, I told you at midusmmers that we weren't square, okay? You have a price hanging over you-"

"So, you decided to ditch? We were looking for a way to settle that and you're galavanting at Tannyhill doing whoknowswhat or, well I guess we do know who you're doing-"

You slapped him. Clean across the face and loud.

Had you been within earshot, you would've heard the other pogues (who were spying on you through the front windows) gasp and let out a few "oh shit"s.

"You don't get to slutshame me for shit I didn't even do, all right?" You retorted. "Nothing happened between me and Rafe. Nothing."

"Yeah, well, somehow I don't believe that."

"Well, fuck you, JJ. I was doing this for you. I was going to steal from the Camerons to pay off your debt and if they found out-" you paused, a look flashing in your eyes. "But yeah, fine, I guess you already found the gold. And you're gonna pawn it right? Here in OBX? Like that isn't the stupidest thing you can do."

"What's the alternative? Wait for Rafe to kill his dad for you so you can get the inheritence? Hate to break it to you, Y/N, but your pussy probably isn't that good."

It was stupid. The whole argument was stupid but JJ was hurt and the idea of you with Rafe Cameron made his skin crawl.

"You know what, I don't need this. Have a nice life JJ and good luck with your restitution."

Regret flooded over him. "Y/N, wait-"

"No, JJ, sorry, you don't get to be forgiven that quick," You said, heading back to your car. "And for the record, Rafe Cameron has been nicer to me today than you have. And that's really fucking sad."

You slammed your door closed and started your car, taking off.

JJ watched you go. He knew he deserved it. He deserved every word you could've thrown his way, but watching you leave was worse than anything you could've said.

And what killed him even more was that he knew that he had driven you right into Rafe's arms.

He was at a country club with Topper and Kelce, Topper was licking his wounds and the boys were joking when you pulled up.

"Y/N, nice to see you again," Kelce said as you walked up.

"Yeah, nice to see you, too," you replied as Rafe walked up to you.

"What're you doing here?" he asked.

You pecked him on the lips, catching him off-guard.

"Just- wanted to see you, I guess."

He smiled. "Good enough for me. And now we got even numbers for bags, you know how to play?"

You laughed. "Do I know how to play? I'm a pogue, remember? Pretty sure we invented this game."

Rafe looked like he was about to lean in and kiss you, but something over your shoulder caught his attention instead.

"Rafe Cameron!"

You followed his gaze. "Is that-"

"Stay here." Rafe said, walking over to where Barry was talking with a member of the staff, Topper and Kelce following.

"Like hell," you replied, chasing after them.

"Why's your whole family think I'm some bitch that they can shit on, man?" Barry asked. "First your dad kneecaps me in my house."

"You got your money," Rafe insisted.

"That ain't the point," Barry continued. "I'm asking you, what am I? Am I just some little bitch? Is that what your family looks at me like?"

"No. No." Rafe said.

"No, no," Barry mocked. "Okay, so then why is your little sister and her little surf rat friends running around stealing 25K out of my house Can you tell me that?"

"They did what?" You asked, coming closer to the conversation.

"Y/N, stay back," Rafe said. "My little sister robbed you?"

"Yeah, Sarah robbed me. That's why I'm here."

"She won't pick a dollar up off the street. What are you talking about?" Rafe said.

"Do I look dumb? You think I don't understand what's goin' on here?" Barry said. "'Cause I'm telling you right now, you better sort this out with your sister, or else I am. 'Cause I want my money."

Worry was building in your chest. You leave for one afternoon and suddenly the pogues had gotten themselves into a heap of trouble.

"Listen, I don't know what you're talking about," Rafe said. "Enlighten me."

"Enlighten you?" Barry said. "So, the pogues are all around Outer Banks stealin' shit out of everybody's house and you got no idea what I'm talking about? Your sister's involved in it."

"Sarah Cameron, home invader," Rafe said, disbelief evident in his voice. "You know how stupid-"

Barry threw Rafe off him, yelling angrily in his face. "That's 25K!"

Topper got in the middle, but just because he could take John B. doesn't mean he could take Barry.

"Sort this shit out with your sister," Barry demanded. "Imma get my money."

"Yes, of course," Rafe said.

"If it's not from you, it's from her. Remember that. I'll see you boys around."

Barry left, leaving you and Topper to hash things out with Rafe.

"What are you gonna do?" Topper asked.

"Nothing, it's not my problem," Rafe said.

"Rafe, that's your sister. Those are my friends!" you said.

"What are you gonna do?" Topper asked again.

Rafe spared a glance at you before making a decision. "All right, come on."

They got on their bikes and you got on behind Rafe. He handed you a spare helmet.

"You just keep this on hand?"

"Well, maybe I was hoping a certain someone would come riding with me soon," he replied.

You bit your lip and pulled the helmet on, then held his waist as he sped off in search of the pogues.

Worry and anger ate at you. They just had the gold and now they'd gotten themselves in trouble with a drug dealer? Where had it gone south? What stupid thing had they done?

This had JJ written all over it.

The thought left a bitter taste in your mouth but it was true.

He always did something wreckless after a fight with one of his friends.

After your first fight, he went cliff diving during a thunderstorm and the pogues had to rescue him from nearly drowning.

Nothing with more consequences than his own safety, but the pogues had gotten mixed up in something bigger than themselves this time. And a sinking pit in your stomach told you it might just get somebody killed for real.

John B. and Sarah were just cruising in the twinkie when you found them, Rafe recklessly cutting them off and causing John B. to hit the breaks before they hit him and you on the bike.

"Shit. No, no, no, no. John B.," Sarah said before her boyfriend could get the door open. "Let me handle him."

John B. watched as you took off your helmet, the look on your face more pissed than he'd ever seen you.

"And I'll hand her," he muttered.

You stormed up to the van. "Where's JJ? Is he in there?"

"He's not here, Y/N."

"What did he do? Were you there? Do you know he robbed a drug dealer?"

Another bike sped up towards you and John B. got out of the van to meet him.

"Don't ignore me, John B.!" You shouted.

"Come to try to kill me again, Top?" He asked, ignoring you.

You were fuming. Caught between arguments and not in any them. You wanted to shout, scream, punch, cry, but no one was giving you the opportunity.

"One day, I'm gonna be running the show, Sarah, and you're gonna wish that you were nicer to me then," Rafe said.

"Why don't you give me a save-the-date on that?" Sarah retorted. "You psycho."

Sarah shoulder checked you as she passed. "Nice to see you went crawling back to him, Y/N."

You glared. "Yeah, well, you guys didn't exactly give me much of a choice, huh?"

"Let's go, Y/N," Rafe said, tossing you your helmet and then putting on his own.

You looked back, giving John B. one last angry look before sitting behind Rafe and letting him take off.

"Well, that went well," John B. said, watching you go.

You'd been hanging around Rafe pretty much all after that. Dipping out of the pogues story for a while. Maybe forever. You weren't sure how you felt right now, besides betrayed and hurt.

Right now, Rafe was the only thing holding you together.

That and weed.

"Rafe!" Wheezie called out, causing you to choke on the hit you were taking. "And Y/N. Great."

"Wheeze, you don't need to be around this-"

"Don't worry, I'm not going to tell anyone," she said, dropping her bag down.

"Uh, you want some or-"

"Rafe!" you protested.

"What?"

"She's thirteen!"

He gestured wildly like 'I don't know!'

"This crib is sweet," Wheezie said. "How'd you get the Gleason's to let you crash here?"

"Uh- I didn't tell them is how," he replied.

"Pogue trick," you joked, flashing her a peace sign.

"Keep a lid on it, please," Rafe asked.

"Only if you let me crash here whenever I want," Wheezie replied.

"They try and kick you out, too?"

"Worse," she replied. "I'm officially the least favorite daughter. Sarah and dad are going to the Bahamas and did they invite me? Nope."

"Bullshit," you said with a shake of your head.

It seemed like regular rich people shit to you, but it seeemed to catch Rafe's attention. "Wait, they're going to the Bahama house? In summer?"

"Yeah."

"You guys don't do that often?" you asked.

"Nah, usually only when it gets cold," Wheezie said. "But according to Rose 'it's business'."

You raised an eyebrow at Rafe's change in behavior.

"I mean, they're all up in some new development, and for some super-secret reason, they're going to the Bahamas," Wheezie said.

Rafe leaned forward. "You know, I- I know about, like… a billion times more about the business than she does. What- what is this?"

He stood up, hands running through his hair.

"We're the black sheep. Get used to it, Rafe," Wheezie said. "Baa."

"Shut up, okay?" Rafe said, becoming increasingly unravelled.

"Baa."

"Hey, shut up!" Rafe moves forward, grabbing his sister by the wrist. "Wheezie, I told you to shut up, okay?"

You moved then, standing between the two. "Rafe. You're high. Back off."

Wheezie moved around you and tossed a pile off cash at him "My life savings."

He dropped down to scoop it up.

You frowned. "Did he ask you for money?"

Wheezie shruggged.

"I'll pay her back," he said. "I know this looks really bad right now and everything, but like, I'm gonna- I'm gonna my shit together, okay?"

You wanted to believe him, but something about just now...

"I'm gonna get it tight, like, you know..." Rafe said, banging his fist on the table a few times. "Like, real tight. You'll see."

"Yeah..." you replied, turning to Wheezie. "Why don't you go look around? The Gleason's have some pretty cool shit."

Wheezie shurgged again, but took your suggestion and went inside.

"Okay, what the hell is going on with you?" you asked.

"She's taking my place!" Rafe shouted. "Perfect princess Sarah. I screw up one time and- and all that I've worked for! That's supposed to be mine!"

He threw everything on the table off of it, glass shattering around you.

"He can't do this! He kicks me out just to- just to give everything to her! She always gets everything!"

He paused, a crazed look in his eye. "But not this time."

He started backing up, heading towards the stairs. "Not this time!"

"Rafe!" You called after him, chasing him down the stairs. "Rafe wait!"

You ran up, grabbing his arm before he could get on his bike and he flung back and hit you.

You tumbled to the ground, hand on your face.

He stopped. "Oh my god, I didn’t mean- Y/N, you know I didn't mean to-"

He reached down to help you but you pushed him off.

"Don't touch me! Don't-" there were tears in your eyes and blood coming from your nose. "I thought you weren't but you're just like your dad, aren't you?"

He didn't respond, just stared at you.

"Aren't you?!" you yelled.

He took a few steps back and grabbed his bike. "Yeah. Yeah I am."

Then he was gone. Speeding off on that damn bike.

Call it anger, call it intuition, but you jumped in your car and followed him. All the way to the airstrip until your car couldn't follow any more. Then you stopped and bailed from your car, running after him at a much slower pace.

When you finally caught up-

Was that John B.? And Peterkin? Why was she on the ground-?

It registered quickly: the gun in Rafe's hand, Sarah's sobbing, the pressure John B. was putting on Peterkin's chest.

"Oh my god," you said before running out there. "John B.!"

He looked up. "Y/N! Call 911!"

Rafe immediately turned the gun towards you, making you freeze.

"Don't!" Ward stepped between the gun and you. "Rafe, I've got the radio, nobody else needs to get hurt, put the gun down."

He looked at you. "I can count on you not to do anything reckless here, right Y/N?"

You shakily put your phone back in your pocket.

"Good girl."

John B. stood up, making eye contact with you before backing towards the twinkie.

"Where do you think you're going, huh?" Rafe shouted as Ward held him back.

And John B. took off in a dead sprint towards the grass, you followed around the other way while the Camerons collided with each other.

Gunshots went off and you screamed, booking it towards John B. as fast as your legs would carry you. Through the trees and brush and dirt until John B. made it to the road-

And got hit by a car.

"Shit!" You shouted, slowing down enough to help him up and, much to the confusion of the driver, kept running.

"Where are we going?" You asked.

"Find the pogues," he replied.

By the time you did, well, you let John B. be the one to step out first.

"Dude! Dude, you good?" JJ said.

"Oh, my God! John B!" Kiara said.

They took him in, not seeing you at first.

"Is this yours?"

"Whose blood is that?"

"Y/N?" JJ said.

Sirens whirled behind you and you all ducked into the shed the pogues had been squatting in.

So. Turns out you missed a lot.

First off, Ward killed John B.'s father. John B. went on a tirade. Sarah didn't believe John B. The Camerons have the gold. Pope split from his interview.

And you were a traitor.

You'd left them because you were pissed and you actually thought Rafe Cameron had a heart.

And now, after Peterkin was dead, you're realizing you should've known all along.

"Hey, is that- do you have a bruise around your eye?" JJ asked later, when John B. had gone into the police station to tell them what had happened.

"Oh," you said, reaching up to feel it and wincing. "Yeah, I guess I do. Can thank good old Rafe Cameron for that one."

"He hit you?" JJ said. "No. Fuck that. I'll find his punk ass-"

"JJ," you said, grabbing his wrist. "Not now. Please."

He relented and sat down.

"I think I owe you guys an aplogy. I was so dumb for thinking Rafe was a good guy and I was just so mad. I missed out on this whole adventure..." you said.

"Don't worry, Y/N," Pope said. "Hasn't been all that great, to be honest."

You laughed lightly. "Thanks, Pope, appreciate that... Kie?"

Kiara sighed from the front seat. "I think I'm done holding grudges. Especially now." She turned in her seat to look at you. "And especially not to you."

You smiled at her.

"Kie, start the car!"

You all snapped to look at John B. running out of the station.

"Start the car!"

Chaos broke loose as Kie flooored it forward, two cops chasing after you, everyone shouting over each other until-

Silence.

The cops dropped off and John B. was breathing heavily.

"They think I did it," he said. "They think I killed Peterkin."

—

There was no going home for anyone and you couldn't exactly go to the chateau, the first place they'd look, or anywhere familiar.

So, you hid.

Laying low in Kie's car with no other options, the radio turned to a news station in a vein hope that they might say something helpful.

Pope was nessled in the front seat, Kie in the drivers, which left you in the back, sandwiched between JJ and John B. Head on JB's shoulder and leg over JJ's leg.

The sound of JJ's lighter flicking open and closed was only interrupted by the occasional police sirens that, thankfully, wizzed right by. As for the radio-

"Still no arrest in the shooting death of Sheriff Susan Peterkin. The state police have issued a statement regarding a local person of interest, a juvenile from-"

Kiara switched it off.

"Let's game this out," JJ said. "Maybe you guys can help, being the smart ones and all, but-" he let out a breath - "who are the cops going to believe? Ward Cameron or us?"

It didn't need to be said. You wouldn't be hiding right now if there was any hope the cops were on your side, but JJ, being JJ, felt the need to say what everyone was thinking.

"So, the accuser is a big shot developer, kind of lord of the island, got the governor on speed dial kind of person. And the accused...is John B...who is pretty much a homeless 16-year-old boy at the moment..."

You sighed against John B's shoulder and kicked JJ's leg with your foot.

"What? I'm not wrong."

"Thanks," John B. replied, sarcastically.

"Shit." Pope said from the front.

"Look, man, Yucatan, all right?" JJ said, talking to John B. over your head. "I'm saying that's the only option. What other option do you have?"

"Enough with the Mexico bullshit, all right?" John B. retorted. "Sarah's gonna bail me out."

"I mean she did witness the whole thing," Kiara said.

"Thank you," John B. said.

"And she's gonna snitch on her brother?" Pope asked.

As if the mere mention of Rafe, not even by name, set him off, JJ puffed his joint and continued on his tirade. "Not happening, bro, okay? We need to get you off the island."

"The ferry," Pope said. "It's the only way."

"Yeah, exit stage left while you still can, before the entire island is on lockdown."

As if on cue, more sirens approached.

The five of you ducked down again, slinking as far into your seats as you could go.

You half wished yours would just swallow you whole, put you out of your misery.

"Sarah's not a pogue, John B.," Pope said.

"Yeah. You can't stay here, man," JJ said.

John B. seemed less inclined to speak, so you snuggled further into him and he squeezed your arm.

The two of you were closer to other pogues, but after this, you might just start leaning on each other a little more.

Hell, if John B. was leaving the island, you wanted to go with him. JJ would probably tag along, too, lord knows he needs an excuse to get outta dodge.

It would be just the three of you, hitch hiking until you found somewhere to be. A beach in Florida maybe, Puerto Rico, even. Change your names, get jobs, settle down. It wouldn't be so bad.

Just had to get on the ferry.

"Okay, so, ferry's closed."

Or not.

"And there's this," Pope said, handing a piece of paper to Kiara through the window.

A wanted poster.

It was a fucking wanted poster.

You didn't even know they made those anymore.

"Okay, so the whole island's looking for John B. right now," Pope said.

"That's a lot of money," Kiara said.

"Congrats, John B., you're famous," you said, bitterly, as you passed him the poster.

"We got to get to the HMS," Kiara said. "It's small, no running lights-"

"Its at the chateau, Kie," John B. replied.

"And I wonder if the cops got the entire place staked out, let me think," JJ said. "Oh, yeah, no they definitely have that place locked down."

"Yeah, copy that."

"Let me think, just give me a second," Pope said, hands on the steering wheel, eyes closed as he scrambled through his thoughts. "JJ."

"What?"

Pope turned around in his seat. "Does your dad still have that boat? The cigarette boat, The Phantom? The one he used to race."

"Maybe..."

"You could get right up the coast, no problem," Pope said.

And, as is common for the pogues, when a solution presents itself, it all goes to shit.

Chaos broke out, Pope unintentionally getting the attention of everyone around the ferry. And, of course, the car was stalling out.

John B. was hiding his face and the rest of you were yelling frantically at Pope as he turned the ignition. And once it went, he hit a car. And alerted the cops.

Great.

Who let Pope drive, again?

He slammed on the breaks and you nearly went tumbling into the front with him and Kie.

"Shit, Pope,"

"John B., get out."

"He's right," JJ said. "We'll draw the cops, you run."

"Where's he supposed to go?"

"What's the alternative, Y/N?"

You bit your lip. "Okay, go John B., run."

He popped the door and hefted himself out as JJ said, "I'll get the rig and meet you in the dump tomorrow. Three o'clock, okay?"

John B. bailed, slamming the door behind him and Pope floored it, driving the cops away from John B. as quick as was reasonble.

Meanwhile, Rafe was rummaging through John B.'s stuff.

"What're you doing?" Wheezie asked.

"Getting rid of this crap," Rafe replied, too calmly for someone who'd committed murder hardly hours before.

"That's John B.'s," Wheezie said.

"Yeah, well, I don't think he's gonna be by anytime soon to pick it up, so..."

"Why?"

"Did you say why?"

Wheezie nodded, innocently.

The image of you running off with John B. flashed through his head. The horror in your eyes when he pointed the gun at you. Why had he done that?

"They didn't tell you?"

"Nobody tells me anything."

"Um...so John B.," Rafe considered it for a moment. The lie bitter on his tongue...but he said it anyway. "Killed Sheriff Peterkin."

But Wheezie wasn't dumb. The disbelief was evident in her voice when she said, "What?"

"Are you smiling right now?" Rafe asked. "I'm not joking, like this isn't a game. I dont" - he smacked the post of the bed - "I don't know why you're smiling, okay? Look at me."

He leaned down close to Wheezie. "I saw it with my own two eyes, all right?"

Lie.

"He shot her. And then do you know what he did?"

He was spiraling.

"He tried to shoot dad, but I stepped in, and I stopped him, right?" It sounded more like a question than a statement. "I saved his life."

"Why would John B. wanna kill dad?"

Rafe shrugged his shoulders before saying the only honest thing he had this whole conversation. "He thinks dad killed his father."

The cogs turned in Wheezie's head. "He wants vengence."

Rafe shouldered John B.'s bag. "Yeah, he's...he's a maniac. And Sarah's been hanging out with him."

He turned to go when Wheezie said, "But what about Y/N?"

That got him to stop in his tracks. "What?"

"Y/N hangs out with John B. She wouldn't if he was a maniac...right?"

Rafe licked his lips. "Well, uh...sometimes you think you know people. And you don't."

—

"Pope you clocked that car, man, it was so bad!" JJ said, laughing.

You had your feet danging over the back seat, the light outside beginning to turn blue, bathing everything in a twilight haze.

"Pull over!" Kiara demanded.

Pope, smartly, did as he was told, albeit a little more wrecklessly that he would have had he not been high.

"JJ's it's not funny," Kiara said. "He shouldn't be driving."

She slammed the door closed and JJ made eye contact with you.

You grinned. "It's a little funny."

He smiled back, handing you his blunt, and it was almost as if nothing had changed.

"Where're we going?" he asked.

"The last place they're gonna look," Kiara replied.

—

"Last place they're gonna look because of how stupid it is." JJ said as Kie and Pope scaled the Camerons' wall.

"I second that," you said, slinking down in your seat.

"You guys just stay here, okay?" Kie said before dropping out of sight.

Then, it was silent.

The tension between you and JJ grew thick.

"How's your eye?" JJ asked.

"Huh? Oh..." you reached up to feel the bruise. "To be honest, I forgot about it."

Another beat of silence.

"I think I owe you an apology," you said. "I shouldn't have gone back to Rafe. I knew who he was, but I still held on to some naive belief. And now this."

You put your head in your hands, wondering if you could have changed this somehow.

"Hey," JJ said, lifting your head up. "You just see the best in people, all right? You always have. Even in me. I said some pretty awful things to you, and I'm sorry for that. I guess I was just jealous."

You looked at him. "Jealous?"

He wouldn't meet your eye. "Yeah. The idea of you being with Rafe... it bothered me, all right? And not just cause he's him...cause you're you."

You smiled softly. "Well, I was telling you the truth when I said we didn't sleep together...but we did kiss...once."

"Oh."

You chewed on your lip, thinking over your next words. "But I was, uh...I was thinking about you when it happened."

This seemed to get JJ's attention. "You were?"

You chuckled. "Yeah. It felt so weird and I wasn't sure at the time why but," - you looked at him - "I think it's because I really like you JJ. And not in the friend kind of way."

JJ split into a grin that could've lit the highway. "Really?"

"Really."

You both leaned forward, a kiss inevitable, but then the doors opened and you were interupted by Kie and Pope piling back into the car.

"Where's Sarah?" you asked.

Kie just shook her head. "Plan failed."

"Okay, so what's plan B?"

Plan B, it turned out, was sleeping at the wreck.

Kiara curled up on a bench and Pope resting his head against some napkins. You and JJ opted for the floor, staring up at the ceiling and just playing with each others' hands until one of you fell asleep.

Which, must've been you because before you knew it, the sun was up and JJ was flicking his lighter open and closed anxiously.

"He's pinched fore sure," he said.

"No," Pope replied. "They wouldn't still be patrolling if they caught him."

"Let's hope."

"You know, we were in that car, they're porbably looking for us, too," Kie said.

You knicked the lighter from JJ's hand, flicking it open and closed. "Yeah, the Camerons are probably tearing their hair out that they can't keep me locked down like Sarah."

JJ reached for his lighter and you held it out of his reach behind your back, he chased it and you dodged. A silly game in the middle of everything.

"Well, if we're gonna be outlaws, we might as well help John B.," Pope said.

JJ got hold of the lighter finally, pushing you lightly. "So, find him before they do?"

Pope grabbed the keys to the dirtbike.

"Pope?"

"I'm gonna get gas for the boat," he said.

"Hey, you be careful," Kiara said. "Okay?"

"Meet me at the dock at three," Pope said to JJ, ignoring Kie. "Don't be late."

JJ and you exchanged a look as Kiara took off after him.

The tension between you and JJ seemed to have morphed into tension between Pope and Kie.

"You know what that's about?" you asked JJ.

He shrugged. "Whatever it is, it's not helping."

--

When Kiara pulled up to the Maybank residence, it was like all the joy got sucked out of the air.

You'd been there before, a few times, helping out JJ with whatever, usually sneaking in through his window if his dad was around.

You got caught once and...well, let's just say you haven't been back since.

"Home sweet home." JJ said, bitterly.

"Hey," you leaned up from the back seat. "Do you want me to come? You know I will."

"Same here," Kiara said.

JJ shook his head. "No. This'll only take a second."

He jumped out and gave one last look to the two of you before heading inside.

"So..." Kiara started. "You and JJ, now?"

"I guess so," you replied. "Is it weird?"

She shrugged. "I mean...a little, but I think we were all waiting for it to happen."

"Really?"

"Yeah...you should've seen the way he was spiraling out without you. Plus his dad..."

You pulled your knees up to your chest, eyes trained on the house. "I never should've left. I never should've let him take the fall for me."

"Well, you know JJ. If he had to do it again, he wouldn't change a thing."

The screen door threw open and he came through it, distress evident on his face.

Kiara started the car.

"How'd it go?" She asked, tentatively.

JJ held up the keys, tangled in a silver chain around his fingers.

Mission accomplished.

At what cost?

Kiara drove off and you reached out, taking JJ's hand and squeezing it.

He squeezed back, but said nothing.

It was a frantic sort of day. One misstep and the whole plan unwravels and John B. gets hauled in for something he didn't do. Something none of you could save him from if it happened.

"It'll be fine," JJ said, more to himself than to you or Kiara. "It'll be fine with the Phantom. She'll get out of here quick."

A few police cars went rushing by, you and JJ ducked your heads but Kiara kept driving calmly.

"They're still looking," she said. "That's a good sign."

She kept driving, theoretically away from the danger.

Until you caught Rafe's eye through the window.

Shit.

He was with Barry, who was still out for blood, no doubt. And Rafe's head was no where near on tight.

"Shit, shit, shit, Kie!"

The dirtbike engines revved.

"Kie you gotta go faster!"

"What? Why?"

"Because Rafe and Barry are on our asses, all right?"

"What?"

Her and JJ both turned around to look, the red bikes easy to spot.

"Fucking Rafe Cameron man," JJ said, smacking the dashboard as Kiara sped up. "Always showing up at the worst times."

Kiara sped up as fast as she reasonably could and they faded back.

"God, please, don't follow us..." you muttered, wishing on wishing.

JJ reached back, squeezing your forearm. "Just focus on the mission, baby, okay? We got this."

Baby? That was new...but not unwanted.

It distracted you long enough for you to reach the warehouse where the Phantom was.

JJ pushed open the door and salivated immediately. "There she be."

You and Kiara surveyed the boat and exchanged a look. Oh boy.

"A 1983 Formula 402 SR1," JJ said. "The Phantom."

He looked back at you guys and Kiara shrugged.

"The first boay to make the run to Bermuda in under 16 hours, Kie," JJ said, running his hand along the boat. "Forty years old! Forty...and still the fastest thing that Kildaire's ever seen."

"It's kind of a junker," Kiara replied.

JJ looked almost offended. "Really? She's right there, Kie. She can hear you."

"I'm starting to wonder which of us you're really into," you joked.

"Let's just put it this way," JJ said. "You would not be smoking weed right now if she never existed, okay?"

"I just hope it runs," you replied as JJ snaked an arm around your waist.

"Oh, she'll run all right. She's faster than any cutters the boys in blue got."

The screeching of tires got your attention and Kiara jumped over the hitch. "Pope! Finally..."

"Hey, there."

Your stomach sank and your eyes went wide, seperating from JJ immediately.

Rafe's eyes bore holes in your skill. "What's going on, JJ?"

Kiara back tracked as Rafe climbed onto the Phantom. "How byou guys doin'?"

Barry whistled, coming around the other side of JJ, who stepped in front of you protectively.

"Well, well," he said.

Rafe jumped back down and the three of you were truly surrounded as Barry pulled a pistol on JJ.

"See, don't think I forgot about me and you on the side of the road," Barry said. "See, I'm here because I want my motherfucking money!"

Barry rushed him, smacking JJ in the face and you screamed for him, but Rafe's arm wrapped around your middle, pulling you back.

Kiara went to help, but got a pistol smacked against her face for her troubles.

"Kie!" You shouted. "Rafe let me go! Let me fucking go!"

He tossed you down. "I think it's time you and I had another chat."

Kiara pushed herself between you. "Don't even think about touching her again."

Rafe huffed through his nose. "It's not you we want, Kie. Just her. Her and John B. Where is he, Y/N? I saw you run off with him, where is he?"

He tried to move towards you but Kiara slapped him in the face.

"I really wish you didn't do that," Rafe said.

"Stay down, boy," Barry said, kicking at JJ with his foot.

"JJ!" you shouted, trying to go for him but Rafe intercepted you again.

"We know what you did!" Kiara said.

This got him to pause, dropping you. "Oh yeah? What did I do?"

You crawled across the floor to JJ.

"You murdered Peterkin!"

"Nah, nah, stay back, girl," Barry said, pulling you up by your hair.

"Y/N!" JJ said, strangled but he got up and started going towards Barry, who tossed you aside and starting beating on JJ again.

You hit the floor hard.

"You're gonna wish you didn't say that," Rafe said.

You caught sight of them, Kiara's neck in Rafe's hand.

The terrible image of Ward flashed in your mind again and you were frozen, terrified.

"Where's John B.?" Rafe shouted in Kie's face, tightening his hold every time she said she didn't know.

THWACK.

Pope laid into Rafe with a tire iron, smacking him across the back and arm. "Don't touch her!"

It didn't last long. Rafe was fighting back almost immediately, but Pope had gained confidence and anger and punched back without hesitation.

"Rafe!" Barry said, moving off JJ to help Rafe.

JJ took this opportunity to trip him and the pistol went tumbling out of Barry's hand.

"Y/N! Kick it!" JJ said.

You did as instructed, kicking the small gun as far and as hard as you could.

JJ intercepted Barry as you stumbled back towards Kie.

"Are you okay?" you asked her.

She was rubbing her neck but nodded. "Pope!"

Barry was down but Pope was still wailing on Rafe.

"Pope, he's had enough, man!" JJ tried, but something inside Pope had snapped.

"Pope, stop!" you shouted as Pope wrapped a hose around Rafe's neck.

"Pope that's too much!"

"Stop, dude!"

JJ wrapped his arms around Pope's shoulders. "Dude, come on, stop, dude, stop!"

"Pope get off of him!"

There was blood all across Rafe's face, but his eyes stayed trained on you as you stood there helplessly.

You should've hated him. Should've thought this was what he deserved. But the fear that gripped your insides at the thought of him dying, of him being killed by one of your best friends.

It was too much.

"Look at me!" Kiara shouted.

And Pope let go.

Rafe went tumbling to the ground and you instinctively went after him.

Rafe coughed and checked him, asking if he was okay. He didn't reply, trying to catch his breath without choking on blood.

"We gotta go." Kie said. "We gotta go."

She headed towards the car, JJ following reluctantly.

Pope was fuming. "Stay off the cut."

You'd never been scared of Pope before, but in that moment, the rage in his eyes was one of the scariest things you'd ever seen.

You looked back at Rafe as Pope followed the other two.

He was breathing heavily, the blood glittering against his face.

"Y/N, come on!"

You moved to get up but Rafe's hand grabbed your arm, making you look back at him.

"Please-" he choked out.

You shook your head. "Deal's done. You were supposed to lay off."

With that you pulled out of his grip and jogged to the car, shoving yourself in the back seat with JJ.

You curled in on yourself again, knees to your chest.

"Well, I'm glad that's over," JJ said, leaning against the window.

"Is it, though?" you said.

It was just karma, right? It was all...karma.

JJ reached for your hand and you let him take it, but neither of you faced each other.

This night was far from over. There was too much left.

But the deal was off. Pope got his revenge. And you and JJ had each other again.

This chapter...was over.

[obessedwithfictionalmen]

I'll come pick it up after pt.10

John Egan X Female! Reader

Sumarry: When Egan doesn't come back from a mission. His nurse reads the letter he left for her.

Warning: Sadness/ mention of death/ historical inaccuracies/ crying/ Swearing/ use of y/n/

Word count: 980 words.

When she saw that only one plane was coming back, her heart sank. Harry Crosby was next to her; he hadn’t gone up because he got promoted to a desk office. ‘’That’s it?’’ he breathed out. She didn’t respond, she was in shock, where was he? This was the plane of Major Robert Rosenthal, but the guys called him Rosie. Bucky didn’t come home, all the guys except Rosie’s crew didn’t make it. When she saw the look on the boys faces, it said it all. Lemmons was trying to get information. ‘’Anyone else?’’ he asked. Y/n snapped. ‘’Do you see anymore planes Lemmons?!’’ she pointed out, her voice breaking in the process. Luckly, Rosie’s crew only had one man injured, so she could let the girls handle it. While she was going to go get Bucky’s letter.

7 hours earlier

‘’Darling, listen to me, if something goes wrong – ‘’ Y/n cut him off, she didn’t want to hear what he had to say, especially if it concerned his death. She sook her head, tears rising in her eyes. ‘’Don’t say that Bucky, you’ll come back, you always do’’ she said. He took both of her hands and kissed them; it was hard for him too. ‘’Please, listen to me, I know you don’t want to hear what I’ve got to say. Please listen’’ he pleaded. A tear rolled down her face, she knew this mission was going to be different than the others. ‘’If somethings happen to me, I want you to go get the letter that I wrote for you. It’s under my pillow. Read it only if I don’t come back.’’ He was fighting the urge to cry himself, the idea of breaking her heart if he didn’t come back was eating him alive. ‘’Promise me, darling.’’ He said, looking in her eyes. She avoided eye contact, he’d seen her cry before, but it wasn’t because of him. Now, she might lose him, and it was breaking her heart. ‘’I promise, but promise you’ll do everything to get back to me’’ she sobbed. ‘’I promise’’ he said. They hugged for what felt like hours, she sobbed in his arms, he cried in silence.

Now

Harry Crosby accompanied her to Bucky’s bed; he was kind of a moral support and he had to make sure she knew where his bed was. ‘’Do you want me to leave?’’ he asked her. ‘’No, but can I have privacy?’’ she said, louder than a whisper. He nodded and waited for her outside. She slipped her hand under his pillow and saw the envelope with her name written on in. She took a shaky breath before opening the letter.

My dear Y/n,

If you’re reading this, something went wrong. I’m either dead or a war prisoner. I’m sorry for not coming back, darling, I know I promised you to. I want you to know that I love you more than anything in the world. The second I laid my eyes on you; I knew that I was head over heels in love with you. Meeting you was like listening to a song for the first time, and knowing it was going to be my favorite. It’s not every day you ask your co-pilot to punch you for a girl. I was too scared to tell you that I love you or ask you to be my girl, even though I think it was clear that you were mine. I loved being with you. We had a way of being quiet together, like the silence between us was enough to say everything, like in your office the other day. Y/n, if I’m dead, I want you to know that my last thought was of you, and the beautiful night we spent together, that’s the night I knew that I wanted to have you in my life. If I’m in a prisoner’s camp, trust me, I’m already planning my escape to come back to you. In the envelope, you’ll find my necklace. I want you to have it, it looked better on you anyway, you’ll also find a ring, it was my grandmother’s. She gave it to me one day, saying I should give it to the girl that I’m sure to marry, and that’s you. So, if I come back, we’ll get married, and if I don’t come back, you have the ring anyway, because I want to marry you. Take care of Meatball for me. I love you, darling, you're all I wanted love to be.

Forever yours, John ‘Bucky’ Egan.

Y/n whipped her tears as she folded the letter again, she looked inside the envelope, seeing his necklace and the ring. She put the chain round her neck and the ring on her ring finger. It was a simple gold ring, with a pearl on top of it. It was really pretty, and it fitted her perfectly. In her heart, she hoped he was in a camp, so he could come back to her, her heart couldn’t bear the idea of him dead. Harry Crosby heard her wailing, his heart broke, she was usually a happy person, she was a real sunshine, hearing her cry like this made him sad. When he entered the room, she was lying on her side, hugging his pillow, it smelled like him. She was sobbing till the point that her body started to shake. He sat on the bed in front of her. ‘’I couldn’t tell him that I love him’’ she sobbed. ‘’I’m sure he knew it’’ he whispered.

He was in fucking Germany! Surrounded by water and plants, with two men chasing him with guns. But he must live, for her, he promised her he was going to get back, he will. He has to marry her; he can’t let her alone. That’s what he was telling himself: Get back to Y/n. He had too.

Part 11⬇️

[raina-at]

Do-Over

It’s long past midnight, and Sherlock is far away from sleep. His nose hurts. His heart hurts. Everything hurts.

He’s too depressed even for the violin. 

Short version, not dead.

How stupid can you be? 

He’d hoped if he laughed it off, he could pretend it wasn’t a big deal. Could pretend his heart wasn’t breaking, seeing John with this woman.

Sherlock keeps a list, since that day on the roof of Barts. His worst mistakes. His biggest regrets. The top ten moments he would like to relive, to do everything differently.

Tonight has won the top spot. How cruel, how callous, how stupid, to make a joke of John’s grief, to make a trick out of something that should have been sincere, to laugh at pain, to mock when he should have begged. Forgive me, he should have said. I never meant to cause you so much pain. 

He closes his eyes and wishes for oblivion. 

There’s a knock on the door. Quiet, hesitant, but there.

Sherlock walks over, opens the door.

John stands there, looks at him. Mustache shaved, wearing that ugly coat and a devastated expression.

“I think we need a do-over,” he finally says, chin set in that way when he has when something hurts like fuck but he’s solidering through anyway.

“I’m sorry,” Sherlock whispers, barely audible, his heart beating a mile a minute. He better not fuck this up, because he’s pretty sure John won’t come back for take three of this particular conversation. “I did it to keep you safe. I know I hurt you by all the lying, but I absolutely believe that if I’d told you, you’d be dead right now.”

John looks at him for a long time in silence. His eyes are wet, and searching, and scared. He swallows, takes a deep breath. “My turn now. I wanted to tell you something. Before you jumped. And I swore to myself that if I ever had the chance, I wouldn’t chicken out again.”

Sherlock tilts his head in question, but says nothing, afraid that a loud word or the wrong move will scare away the boldness that’s come over both of them, the midnight courage of broken hearts.

“I—” John makes a frustrated noise when his voice gives out. He clears his throat, tries again. “I— you know what, fuck it.”

He fists his hand in Sherlock’s shirt front and pulls him in, pressing their lips together.

It hurts a bit because of the broken nose, but Sherlock still pulls John closer and kisses back with everything he has.

“Come home,” he whispers against John’s lips. “Please.”

John smiles into the kiss. “Yes.”

---

Let's be honest, if we could change one scene, it would be this one.

Also, periodic reminder that I'm collecting all of these here on AO3.

And since I can never resist a shameless self-plug, I wrote a fic that consists entirely of do-overs, it's called Empty Houses, and it fits this prompt so perfectly I could have just linked to it instead ;-)

@calaisreno @totallysilvergirl @jrow @peanitbear @jolieblack @meetinginsamarra @helloliriels @keirgreeneyes @lisbeth-kk @friday411 @givemesherbet-blog-blog @weeesi @thalialunacy @thegildedbee @dapetty @salmonsown

[simplydannie]

In this story, Velvet is a few years older than her brother ❤️

FYI. Tye is an OC of mine that appears in my “Back to the Underground” series! I apologize for the confusion. He makes his first appearance on Part 5. Enjoy!

The siblings have relocated to Bergentown where they seek the help of the Trolls as Velvet has been deemed “poisoned” by their essence.

They try to make it their new home: Velvet attempts to plan a birthday surprise for her brother in hopes the Trolls would come… but she soon realizes that it’s them against the world.

Velvet felt good about today. She was sure it would turn out great. She finished setting up the last of the balloons around the roller rink.

Today was Veneers birthday. It had been four months since they got released, four months that they had stayed in the Bergen Castle in Bergentown. They needed to get back on their feet after everything that happened. Veneer saw how his sister was still poisoned by the effects the Trolls. He had written a letter to them asking for help…and now here they were.

At home they had nothing, only the house they had stayed in with their parents….that in itself felt lonely. Those at Rageous treated them indifferently. “Troll Torturers” is what they called them…and they weren’t wrong. At least for the moment, they could start new here before going back.

Velvet had decided to give it a shot and invite the Trolls to his little surprise party she had planned. Veneer never really had any luck at birthday parties….or friends. He would always get so excited. He’d make invitations, hand them out…and no one ever came. It was always them and their parents. She could only hope today was different.

She looked at the clock….it was 6:45.

“I told Veneer to be here at 7:45. I think there’s still time.” She walked to the door to peer through the window.

Poppy made her way back to pop troll village to gather everyone else for the surprise party Velvet had told them about. Out of all of them, Branch was the only one unsure… and a new little Troll they had rescued from Rageous, Tye. Both had yet to trust the two giant Rageons… even if Veneer for some reason grew an attachment to Branch.

“Alright guys! Ready to head out?” Poppy exclaimed trying to sound enthusiastic. Everyone around her seemed unsure… they didn’t want to do this. Viva was the first person Poppy looked at.

“I’m with you Poppy, but everyone else… well.” She looked at Clay.

“We still can’t forgive them of what they did. And here we are going to celebrate Vens birthday like nothing ever happened.” Clay exclaimed.

“No. No it’s not like that it’s….” Poppy was stuck, she didn’t know what she could say that would convince them.

Floyd came in, “They’re trying. Ven was the one to ask for help remember? AND he was the one to admit to everything, put a stop to it! Come on guys!”

His brothers and the rest seemed to take in his words, all except for Branch and Tye. Yet, Branch was willing to give it chance… for Floyd… this infuriated Tye.

“Why do you care for them so much?” He asked bitterly. “They don’t deserve your kindness or anyone else’s! Rageons are nasty, selfish creatures!”

“Tye wait…” Poppy tried to say. He ignored her.

“No I’m sorry Poppy! You can’t go on forgiving everybody when they’re unforgivable! It’s no one’s fault that those two big freaks have no friends.” Tye scoffed and crossed his arms. His words ate its way into the minds and heart of everyone around them.

“I agree. We’re not going, neither are you little bro.” John Dory stated looking at Floyd. His brother gave him the most quizzical look.

“Are you serious?” Floyd remarked.

“Dead serious. I ain’t loosing my little brother again.”

“Sorry but you’re way passed telling me what to do.” Floyd began to walk away before he felt hair wrap around him. “Hey! What gives!” He turned to see Bruce and Clay holding him back firmly.

“We agree with John and this one Floyd.” Bruce replied. Floyd struggled as his brothers held him back. Branch and Viva walked over to Poppy who was watching in confusion.

“Branch, tell them it’s okay. Tell them to let Floyd go.”

“I’m….. I’m sorry Poppy. I don’t want him going either. Or you.” He replied.

“I…. I have to agree with your boyfriend on this one.” Viva said shyly glancing towards the ground.

“What?”

“Poppy, I nearly lost you and dad once. What if it is a trap? What if they have something planned to take us all back to Rageous?” Viva asked.

“We can’t risk it. I can risk you or Floyd being caught.” Branch held Poppy’s hand but she retracted.

“But I promised…. WE promised.” She said.

“For the sake of your safety… some promises are meant to be broken.” Branch stated.

7:40. DING.

The door to the roller rink pinged open. Velvet hoped it would be Poppy and everyone else, but when she looked she saw her brother. He stood there now in his normal Veneer attire that he used to wear before Velvet had him change: he was obsessed with his black skinny pants and new black sneakers. This time he wore a black, short sleeve undershirt and a puffy red sleeveless vest over. He began wearing his beanies again; today it was purple.

He glanced around excitedly at the set up and decorations. He smiled as he made his way over to his sister.

“Vels! Is this… is this for me?” He asked with a gleeful expression. Velvet attempted a smile…. Everyone was supposed to be here by now… She wanted to surprise him with the amount of people at his party… there’s still time… they have to come….

“Yeah. Surprise. I think everyone is running a little late though.” She finally said.

“Everyone? You mean like, actually people are coming!?” He began to grow excited.

“No Veneer monkeys are coming to your party.” She rolled her eyes.

“Oh ha-ha.” He said. He began getting jittery, “I’m hungry. I didn’t eat. I’m was nervous but excited but mostly nervous, so like, I didn’t eat anything. Can I get a pizza?” He began to blabber… ..yep he was nervous.

“Okay a slice for now. Then we can pass our time playing ski ball. As I remember I still held the title.” Velvet smirked.

“Yeah when we were like 8. Times have changed sis, and I’m practically a man now. So you’re going to loose.” He smirked.

“Whatever.”

Two hours….

Two hours and still no one. Velvet sat at the booth with her hands buried in her face… it happened again….Veneer would go another birthday with no friends to celebrate with. Seeing that something was bothering her, Veneer came to join her.

“You okay?” He asked. One thing she learned during their time here is to be more open with him… she used to be, but she had closed herself off completely. Velvet hesitated a moment.

“They were supposed to come Veneer. I…I invited the Trolls… they were supposed to be here.” She told him. Velvet couldn’t look him in the eye. Ever since bringing him into her plan of fame, she’s done nothing but ruin things for her brother… and here she ruined it again. She felt a hand on hers… she finally looked at Veneer.

“Dont worry about it sis. What’s new anyways?” He said. It honestly hurt her how calm he was about this…. About no one coming to his birthday party. He was so used to not having anyone except his parents and sister. She wished others would give him a chance… she knows they’d like him. A moment of silence passed between them.

“Vels, honestly… I think I’ve enjoyed my time with you more. It reminded me of old times…. You’re just a tad bit more scary now.” He said.

“Way to ruin the moment jerk!” She shoved him playfully…. But it was true. Their time here at the rink felt like old times… when they were kids… when things were normal, when they were happy. This was their new normal now, and they had to make the best of it…. Even if it was just going to be them two.

“Well, there’s still cake and my present to open.” She said.

“Is it my illegal pet monkey?”

“Do you want to go back to prison?” They stood up and walked over to the table we his cake and one present were…. Her mind began to swirl with anger. She knew the Trolls were hesitant in trusting them, but they had promised, they had promised to be there to make Veneers day happy. She tried to compress her anger and new found hatred for the Trolls. Why stay here? Why even try?

Velvets new mission was to get her and Veneer away and out of here for good…. She didn’t care if they had no where else to go. Anything would be better than this…

[feyre-darling92]

Task Force 141

You die during a mission

A/N: I may not update very often but when I do it’s full of angst. Yeah, I think I should worry... Anyways, enjoy this little sad story and please don’t hate me :)

T/W: I think that the word ‘Die’ is enough to explain what’s happening in here so read at your own risks, also bad writing

You and Simon had been together for a year. To others it might have sounded a short time period but to him it looked like an eternity. One year and you had managed to bring the light back to his life. One year and he felt like you were with him a whole lifetime

At the span of a year he had become unrecognisable. The once broody and scary Lt. Riley was a whole different person when you were on his side

But life plays cruel games, doesn’t it?

You were on a mission, it was supposed to be easy, get in, get the intel and get out. You had even joked that you would be done so soon he would have to take you out for a drink afterwards

And he was planning to. Until these bastards showed up out of nowhere.

“Get out now!” Price shouted through thr com and after exchanging a look with Simon you started making your way out, killing every man standing on your way.

In the beginning he was terrified that you wouldn’t make it out alive, but once you reached the exit door he managed to push away this thought.

Both running to the extract helicopter you didn’t realize the sniper on the roof.

Well, you did, that’s why you pushed Simon inside and took his place, took the bullet for him.

He hadn’t realized it, he thought that you were worried about getting in fast. Until he saw you falling from the corner of his eye.

The exact moment you took the bullet was the moment Simon stopped breathing. 

Picking you up bridal style, not being able to process what had hapenned he took you inside.

“No” he breathed out, “Please” he begged, bringing his hand to your cheek, gently shaking you. He didn’t want to believe it but you knew, you had no chance.

Bringing your hand to his face you gently lifting his mask so you could see him one last time and whispered, “I’m sorry” , tears running down your face and breaths uneven, “I’m so sorry”

“No, no, I’m sorry. I should’ve protected you, I-I should’ve been the one to take the bullet I-” 

“It’s ok, Simon, it’s ok. But promise me that you won’t stop your life because of me ok?” You were fully crying now, sobs shaking your body.

“No, you can’t do this to me” tears also stained his handsome face, “I can’t live without you”

“Try for me ok?” you took his hand from your cheek and kissed it, “I- love you” you left your final breath.

Simon refused to leave your body. He thought that if he let you he’d have to face the fact that you were not there anymore. And he couldn’t do that.

Because when you stopped breathing he stopped breathing too. When you died, he stopped living too. How could he live when the only thing that kept him alive was dead?

“You own me a drink after this shit is done, McTavish” you chuckled as you walked through the empty corridor, Johnyy behind you.

“If I knew that a shitty mission was all it took to get you to go out with me for drinks I would’ve arranged it sooner, lass” 

You and John were... friends. But you wanted something more. And today was they day you’d tell him! Having waited long enough you had decided that it was now or never.

“Are you coming or not?” his voice interrupted your thoughts.

“Of course” you smiled and stepped into the room only to find it empty. “Shit!”

““What happened?” Ghost’s voice was sounded through the coms.

“Room’s empty” Johnny said, “They must have left”

“Are you sure?” Price was now heard.

You examined the room, not that it was big or something and found nothing. There was only another door you decided to open to see what was on the other side.

Only that this was not a simple door. Soap should’ve seen it but he didn’t, so when you opened it the whole thing exploded, sending you both on the ground.

Johnny was the first one to wake. He didn’t know how this had happened, how long he was unconcious but he knew one thing. It was his fault.

It was his fault that you were on the ground, bleeding and fighting to breathe.

“No” he tried to speak but his throat was sore. He tried to get up but he couldn’t. So weak he was that he couldn’t get up for you. So he crawled. 

“Y/N” he took you in his arms, panicking when he saw your state. “Y/N, I- I should’ve known, I-”

“I love you” you cut him of, the sobs escaping your body putting you in worse pain, “I-I” you gasped for oxygen, “I wanted to te-tell you”

“Shh, I love you too” he kissed the top of your head, silent tears falling. “I love you so much, but don’t do this to me” he tried not to cry for you but he couldn’t hold it. 

He was losing you, the only thing that mattered. And when you left your last breath he couldn’t help but cry. Gripping you tightly, not wanting to let you go, he cried.

When the others finally came and saw him in his knees crying while holding you they knew it was too late. They knew that he would never be the same.

And he wasn’t. There wasn’t a day that he wouldn’t think about you, what you could be, how things would be different if he had realized that there was a bomb sooner. But he hadn’t and that’s why he blamed himself for the rest of his life.

“What are you most afraid of, Gaz?” you had asked him once, when you had first met.

“I don’t know, maybe” he thought about it for a second “losing someone I love” Losing you he wanted to say but he didn’t. “What about you?”

“Hmm. Maybe, dying alone” you said after a few seconds. “Yeah, that would definitely be my greatest fear”

Back then you had just forgotten it, but this time both happened.

You were on another mission, this time separated when he heard the words he hated, “Soldier down. I repeat, soldier down” 

“Who is it?” he asked Price through the com. 

Dead silence. 

“Captain who is it?” he asked again, his heart skipping a few beats.

“It’s Y/N”

The time stopped. The exact moment he heard your name, his heart stopped. And he did the first thing that came to his mind, he ran. He ran to you before it was too late.

“Where is-” he stopped when he saw you lying on the ground, Ghost’s hands and yours applying pressure to your wound, unsuccesfully trying to stop the bleeding.

No, he thought, this can’t be happening.

“I am sorry” you cried when you saw him, “I am so sorry” you sobbed, only getting worse.

He exchanged position with Ghost, taking you in his arms, “No, no, you can’t do this to me” he rested his forehead against yours, “You can’t do this to me”

“I’m sorry” you said again, voice trembling and hands shaking, already to weak to say something more. “I- I don’t” you tried to breathe, “I don’t want to- to die alone” you sobbed again.

“Shh, I’m here. You’re not alone” He kissed you, “I won’t let you die alone” he held you tighter, “You’re not alone”

And when you died you indeed didn’t die alone. He didn’t let your worst fear come true. But his happened.

He had lost you.

“John?” you asked through the com.

“Yes, love?”

“Will you marry me? After this is done?” you couldn’t help the smile on your lips.

“Wait, did you just-” Soap spoke but Ghost cut him off, “Shut up”

You waited and after receiving no response you spoke again, “John?”

“I was planning to ask you tomorrow” he chuckled.

“Is that a yes?”

“Absolutely”

“Yes!” You cheered and walked where the man you were looking for was supposed to be. 

Weird, he was not there. Aiming at the door you opened it only to be met with an empty room. “What the-”

Before you could finish your sentence a hand grabbed you from behind and started choking you. Setting yourself free was impossible, but a million thoughts crosed your mind.

The most important one, John.

You tried to talk, alert them that they were here, but you couldn’t. Stepping on his foot with all your strength lossened his grip enough for you to set youself free but before you could grab your gun he aimed his at you.

“C’mon, pretty one. Won’t you tell your team that we’re here?” he laughed at you.

However, the team had heard it all and they were right on their way to find you. Not many minutes later the team appeared, guns aiming at the man.

“It’s very simple. You let her go, we let you live” Price spoke trying to hide his worry and panic.

“How about you let me go and I don’t kill her?” He said, the gun still pointed at you.

“Hell no” You said and you wish you hadn’t. 

“Alright” 

Simon had shot him fast enough but not before he could pull the trigger.

“Y/N!” John run to your side, “No, no, no” he panicked as he took you in his arms, one hand pressing on the wound and the other to your face.

“John” you whispered, “John look at me” you made him look at you. “It’s not your fault”

“I wanted to marry you” he cried kissing your hand. “I wanted to spent my life with you”

“Oh, John” you sobbed, “I wanted that too” you closed your eyes, trying to stop the tears.

“I wanted to grow old with you” he kissed you again, “To live with you”

“I know. I know” you held his hand, “I will see you again, ok? And then I’ll marry you”

He just nodded, and you continued, “We will have all the time in the world”

“Yes, we will” he whispered. “See you then” he said and you closed your eyes, finally resting. You would see him again, he had promised.

And you did see him again. While he was bleeding out on the ground, alone after a mission went wrong, he saw you.

You were so beautiful, wearing white and your best smile. “It’s good to see you again, love”

“I missed you” was all he said as he hugged you again, after so long.

“I missed you too, John” you hugged him back and whispered in his ear, “Now we have all the time”

[anavilante]

Call

John Egan/Buck Cleven

Angst

Word count: 1K

Gale was already at the doorstep, hurrying to work, when he heard the phone ringing.

“Marge! The phone!” he shouted, not wanting to go back inside. There was no answer. “Marge!” he yelled again.

His wife, Marge, was apparently in the shower and didn’t hear her husband shouting from the first floor.

The phone kept ringing insistently.

Gale shifted his weight from one foot to the other in frustration, realizing that no one else was going to answer, and went back inside, closing the front door behind him.

“Gale Cleven speaking,” he answered formally.

“Hey, Buck.”

John.

It was John. After ten months of complete silence. Only two words had come through the receiver, but Gale slowly set his work bag on the floor and pressed the phone to his ear with both hands, as if he was afraid any sound coming from it might escape and disappear, and he’d never hear it again.

“Bucky…” was all Gale could manage to say, the words catching in his throat.

Ten months. Ten damn months of silence. Gale had thought John lost his phone number. Sleepless nights passed in the kitchen, where he sipped coffee he didn’t need, glaring at the damned phone on the wall. He wrestled with the urge to call John in the dead of night, to scream and swear at him for leaving him hanging with an 'I’LL CALL YOU' before vanishing for so long.

There was an awkward rustling sound, as if John shifted his position.

“How are you?” came the stupid question.

Gale’s tense fingers pressed the phone so tightly against his ear that a mark would surely be left, and his throat convulsed a few times as if he were about to sob.

He wouldn't cry. Gale pulled himself together.

“I’m fine. Did you need something? You caught me at the door, and I’m in a hurry to get to work,” Gale said in the most neutral, indifferent tone he could muster, though it didn’t match how desperately he clung to the phone, like someone grasping at straws.

There was more awkward rustling.

“Yeah… I had a daughter.”

Gale froze in shock. He could swear that at that moment everything stopped, from the ticking of the kitchen clock to the beating of his own heart.

“C-congratulations, Bucky.”

It’s fine. Everything’s fine, really. After all, it was he, Gale, who got married, barely off the plane that brought him home, as if chased by a pack of wild dogs. He had been expecting that sooner or later there would be children in his family. Wasn't that the reason they both got married? To have a family, to have children... Wasn't that why they played this drawn-out spectacle of normalcy?

“My wife was planning to call you and Marge to invite you to a party for the baby’s birth…” There was an uncomfortable pause. “But I wanted you to hear it from me.” Gale swallowed hard, listening intently. “I didn’t want her to… Because…”

Ten months, Gale suddenly realized. John had stopped calling when he found out his wife was pregnant and called only now, knowing his wife would eventually call.

John wanted to break up with him. John wanted to do what Gale had wanted to do a thousand times – try to live the life of a heterosexual man.

“I understand,” Gale suddenly replied, hearing John nervously exhale as if he hadn’t expected forgiveness.

Gale himself was surprised he said it. He was angry at John for doing it so quickly. And he was happy that John had a daughter. And he understood how awkward John must feel, telling his former lover about it after ten months of silence. Gale had been ready to scream “GO TO HELL, YOU JERK!” and slam the phone down. But instead, he clung to the phone like it was his lifeline.

“How are you, Bucky?” Gale suddenly asked gently.

And it was as if something broke inside John, some tightly wound string, some fear that he would be hated forever. He started breathing heavily and said, “I haven’t slept more than two hours at a time for the last three weeks. I don’t even know if it’s day or night right now, I’m sorry. Sorry if I called at a bad time. I’m in the wild whirlpool of baby cries, bottles of formula, fleeting moments of peace, and dirty diapers… And I’m still working… If I stayed home with this baby full-time, I’d probably lose my mind…”

Gale smiled, hearing the notes of suppressed hysteria in John’s voice.

“It’s a baby, Bucky. You’ll have to hang in there for a while.”

“I didn’t know it would be like this. I wasn’t ready.”

“Yeah. You like relationships without commitments,” Gale said softly, without reproach, but with sadness. “Sorry, but this isn’t one of those situations.”

“I miss you, Buck,” John’s confident words sounded like both a sharp slap and the most tender caress at the same time, and Gale wondered how that could be possible.

“I… I…” I miss you too, Gale desperately wanted to say, but instead, he said, “I don’t know if Marge and I can make it to the party.”

“Yeah, I get it,” John’s voice took on a formal tone but immediately lost it again. “It was good hearing you, Buck.” And then, suddenly, more tenderly, “I’ve missed your voice so much, doll. And you too.”

Gale gasped in surprise, as if John had used some forbidden move, and as he heard the dial tone, signaling the end of the call, he bit his lip.

“Who was that?” Marge asked, leaning against the kitchen doorframe in her robe. Gale had no idea how long she had been standing there.

Gale slowly hung up the phone.

“It was work.”

“Are you okay?” she asked skeptically. “You look strange, pale as a sheet and flushed at the same time. Are you sick, Gale?”

Gale picked up his bag with numb hands and headed for the door.

“Everything’s fine, Marge.”

Nothing was fine. Everything was falling apart, Gale thought, clenching his fists as he stood outside his house, the weight of it all pressing down on him.

[rubberfuckey]

summary: After a worried phone call from Wheezie, you decide to come back to Kildare. Fourth part! Mentions of blood and a teeny snippet of violence.

part one part two part three

wc: 1.5k

a/n: as always, let me know what you think! hope y'all love it!

masterlist

talk to me

It always started the same. 

Rafe was sitting outside on the porch at his house. Rose comes out holding a large bowl filled with the salad she just chopped up, everyone else already sitting at the table as they prepared to enjoy a nice dinner together. Everything was as it should be. Even you were there, sitting next to him holding his hand under the table, eyes sparkling in the sunlight. Rafe told stories and cracked jokes, everyone laughed and listened intently to every word he said. All of a sudden, your smile dropped as you looked past him. His head turned as he watched JJ and John B walk across the yard towards the table. He went to stand up and tell them to leave the property, but he was stuck. He couldn’t get up from the chair he was sitting in. As they approached, he tried to yell at them, but his voice wasn’t working. He thrashed in the chair, trying to yell and move his legs. He felt completely powerless as they got closer. John B and JJ laughed as they ran up on Ward, all Rafe could do was sit there and watch as they raised a brick and smashed it right against the back of Ward’s head. His head hit the table, and they ran away. Rafe panicked and started sobbing uncontrollably as he watched him bleed out.

You woke up on the sectional across from Wheezie after hearing a scream. Wheezie was still in a deep sleep but you sat up, hearing footsteps on the floor above you. Rafe came down the stairs and stopped when he saw you sitting up on the sofa. He rubbed the back of his neck, looking down at his feet. He looked exhausted.

“Uh, I’m sorry if I woke you, I was just coming down to grab a bowl of cereal.” 

You looked at your phone for the time, who eats cereal at 2:47 in the morning?

“You want some?” he asked. “Sure,” you weren’t hungry, but you didn’t want to leave him alone like this. 

You sat in the kitchen quietly eating, you didn’t know what to say to him. 

“Rafe,” you dropped your spoon and turned towards him “does that happen often?”

“What?”

“The nightmares.” 

He looked at you and shook his head, “I’m fine.” 

“That’s not what I asked you.” 

He should know by now that if you wanted an answer to your question, you weren’t going to let him skirt around the topic. 

He rolled his eyes, but still answered, “Just about every night since I found out he was dead.”

You nodded slowly as you watched him push a single piece of cereal around the bowl of milk. 

“Do you want to tell me about them?”

“Yes, but not right now baby. I’m so tired.” 

You felt your heart break as you watched him get up and dump the milk down the sink, grabbing yours on his way. He called me baby, he didn’t even realize what he said. It just felt natural. He was shirtless and barefoot with just a pair of old gym shorts on his hips. His hair was starting to grow back and it was a complete mess right now. He looked like a hollow, cracked shell of the man you once knew and loved.

“You should get back to sleep,” he whispered, “I’m sorry again for waking you up.”

“Don’t apologize, you did nothing wrong. The couch was kind of hurting my back anyways,” you looked down nervously, hoping he’d take the hint. 

“Oh, do you want to take my bed? I can take the couch, or you could just take the guest room. I don’t know, whatever you want,” he said all in one breath. You just smiled and grabbed his hand as you pulled him up toward his room. You sat down on what used to be your side of his bed and patted the space next to you. Not even back for 24 hours and you’re already back in his bed. Should you be concerned? Maybe a little. Did you care right now? Not in the slightest. He bit back a smile as he walked towards his bed and sat next to you, unsure of how to lay down. You moved down his bed, pulling him down too. You weren’t cuddling, in fact, your upper halves weren’t touching at all. You were both too scared to make that move. You faced each other, breathing each other's air and you moved your legs slightly to rest under his. He sighed contently, no matter how much he wanted to hold you, he was ecstatic just to have you here lying next to him, your cold feet on his legs like they belonged. 

Your eyes fluttered shut, and he whispered gently, “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Rafe.”

-

You woke up the next morning, in a completely different position than you had fallen asleep in. Somehow during the night, Rafe had turned his back to you and you wrapped your arms around his waist. Your face was smooshed against his bare back as he held onto the arms wrapped around him so tight it was like he was scared you would slip right out of his grasp. You didn’t move, if he had really been having these nightmares every night consistently, he needed the rest. You stayed still, dozing back off, until eventually, he started to stir. You pretended to still be asleep as he turned his head slightly and let out a chuckle at the feeling of you all wrapped up against him. He had to still be dreaming, right? Your phone buzzed on the nightstand and he grabbed it, Wheezie had texted you. Morning voice in full effect, he called your name to wake you up. 

“Y/N, wake up, Wheezie texted you.” 

You groaned, not ready to get up for the day, but you pulled yourself off of him as he handed you your phone. Hello?? Where’d you go??

You hated lying, but there was no way you were going to tell her you had slept next to her brother. Guest room, couch was uncomfy. Be down in a sec.

Rafe watched you send the message and snorted, “Liar.”

“Hush,” you giggled. You sat up from the bed and rubbed the sleep from your eyes. He got up and walked into the bathroom attached to his room, grabbing a toothbrush.

“I, uh, still have the toothbrush you left here if you want to brush your teeth.”

Your heart swelled at the sentiment, “Gross, Rafe, that thing is probably all dusty and dirty by now.” 

“Yeah, I guess you’re probably right,” he laughed, “I have brand new ones too.”

“Perfect,” you smiled as you got up to join him in the bathroom. You shared the sink as you both brushed your teeth together quietly. You left the room and went downstairs to where Wheezie was, making Rafe stay up in his room for a few minutes so it doesn’t seem suspicious. 

“What do you want to do today, Wheeze?” 

“Let’s go shopping!”

You nodded excitedly, “Okay! Go get ready, and then we can stop by my house so I can change and then we’ll hit the town.”

Rafe passed her on the steps as she went to go get dressed for the day. You sat on the sofa scrolling through Instagram as you waited. Rafe came down and sat next to you and you looked up from your phone.

“Y/N, do you think you could unblock my number? I promise to not leave you an embarrassing amount of drunk voicemails anymore.”

You laughed and nodded, going to your phone app to resave his number. 

“What did you guys decide on doing today?”

“We’re just going to go do some shopping.”

He nodded as Wheezie ran down the steps, dragging you out the door, shouting goodbyes behind her as you looked back to smile and wave at Rafe.

-

Shopping was great, you tried on so many clothes and filled your arms with shopping bags. As you were walking into the next store, your phone buzzed, it was Rafe.

Let me take you to dinner tonight.

As a thank you for last night.

He double-texted? You shook your head with a smile, this should not be making you as happy as it is. 

No need to thank me. I didn’t really do anything. 

He texted back not even a minute later; Think about where you want to go. does 6 work for you? I’ll pick you up.

Kk that works see you soon (:

“What are you smiling at?” Wheezie questioned, pulling you out of your own little world.

“Nothing!” You locked your phone and put it back in your pocket quickly. Real smooth.

“Okay, I’ll pretend I don’t know you went upstairs with Rafe last night and now you’re smiling at your phone like a weirdo.” 

Your smile dropped as you looked at her, shocked, “When did you get so grown?”

She just shrugged and walked over to look at a dress that was hanging up across the store.

part five

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[fandom-imagines-stories]

Letters Part One

John Mitchell x Reader

Words: 2927

Summary: More of Mitchell’s past comes back to haunt him when the first person he ever turned shows up at the flat needing his help. On the run from her coven in Ireland, the reader seeks refuge with the one person she ever truly loved in her decades of living. 

Notes: Mitchell, to this day, is one of my favorite characters both in general and to write. I’ve never really done a series for him, so I thought this could be fun. I have no idea how long I want this to be, I’m just going with it. 

-

June 7th 1917

My dearest John,

Another summer day passes without you and the only question anyone can figure to ask me is if I’ve decided upon a date. I’m half tempted to lie and tell them we eloped before you left just to see their reactions. Though, sometimes I wish it was true. 

Look at me, rambling even through paper and pen. I know you’ve always said how fond you are of it, but I always feel so ridiculous. I hope here it can bring a smile to your face. You know how I long to see that smile again. 

I know it won’t be long, my love. I can feel it, though you may not believe in that kind of thing, I do believe there are forces that even you, John Mitchell, cannot understand. Until then, I will keep you with me through your words. 

Write soon, my love. 

Yours completely,

Y/N

-

The ferry horn blared in your ears, ringing around like the thoughts in your mind.

This was a mistake. You didn’t have any other choice. He would turn you away. He owed you. You promised yourself to never think of him again. How could you see him now? 

You didn’t have any other choice. 

This was a mistake. 

Over and over, round and round, the parade of problems just made your hangover worse. 

You should have had more to drink. Maybe then you’d still be drunk for what was going to happen next. It was already going to be a wreck, so what could a little whiskey hurt?

Just the thought of a shot almost made you hurl over the rail. 

You ran a hand down your face and sat on one of the rain-soaked benches. Your phone sat in your lap. It wasn’t your fault you couldn’t call first. There weren’t exactly phone numbers the last time you saw each other. 

So there you were, on the ferry headed toward the last remaining thread of your past. The man you loved. The man who’d left you. 

You hung your head and stuffed your phone in your pocket. “Damn you, John Mitchell.” 

-

It wasn’t fair. One would assume being dead meant being immune to such human problems as a hangover, but that just wasn’t the case. 

Mitchell gripped the coffee mug in his hands, sitting on the sofa with a grimace and a glance at his roommates that said not to bother him. 

They’d never understood it. There was something about this day, some reason that he always drank too much, always insisted on spending it alone. 

Annie, of course, had many theories. Maybe it’s the anniversary of when he was turned? Maybe vampires just have a set day every year when they turn into wankers. Or, her favorite, perhaps today reminded him of some great love that he’d lost. She’d never voiced that last one to either of them so she had no way of knowing how right she was. 

Mitchell stared at the wall. 

He should be over it by now, shouldn’t he? All these years, all of the other horrible things he’d done. But this was the one that would stay with him forever. The one he would never get past. The one that started all of it. 

“So… calling in sick tonight?” George asked, looking at the time. Sure, they had hours before their shift, but he had a feeling his flatmate wouldn’t be moving from that couch anytime soon. 

Mitchell just nodded. 

Annie opened her mouth to suggest making a night of it, but Mitchell stood and hurried up the stairs to avoid any other interactions for the rest of the day. 

He couldn't handle their worried glances or pitying comments. Not today. 

“What’s gotten into him?” Annie asked. “It seems every year, he has to choose today to be his time of the month.” She laughed lightly. George just gave her an exasperated look. “Get it? Because you… and I used to… oh never mind.” 

George had known Mitchell for only slightly longer than Annie had, but he’d made the same observations. And he’d decided it was probably best to let vampire problems remain vampire problems. 

The day passed away, ticking slowly on, and neither of them heard or saw Mitchell at all. 

“Just… keep an eye on him,” George said as he headed for the door.

Annie held up a hand, an idea clear on her face.

George sighed. “Not by poofing into his room.” 

Annie frowned. 

The roommates bid each other goodnight and George cast one last worried glance up the stairs before he left for work. 

He stepped out into the early evening air and took a long, deep breath. He looked up at the moon. Still a good two weeks away from his least favorite day of the month. Things were going to be okay, even if Mitchell was broodier than usual George took a step off of the front stairs and ran right into something. 

Not something. 

Someone. 

Mitchell hadn’t moved in hours, but he couldn’t sleep either. All he could do was sit and stare and smoke and put out cigarettes and smoke some more. The coffee had helped his hangover enough to have him thinking about round two. 

Anything to clear the sound of her voice from his head. 

“Oh, god, I am so-” George stammered, looking down at the woman he’d stumbled into. 

“It’s fine, really.” You backed away, the scent of wolf invading your senses before you could prepare for it. “I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

“No, the fault is all mine.” George glanced over you and you tried to imagine what he saw. 

Shaking. 

Tattered. 

Broken. 

What a great first impression. 

“Can I…” His brows drew together in confusion. “Help you?” 

You could smell it from the street. Cigarette smoke wafting down from an open window. Had your heart been beating it would have stopped. Somehow… you just knew. 

“No, I think I’ll find my way, thanks.” You gave the werewolf a smile and watched him head off. 

You breathed in, staring up at that open window. 

There, beneath the smell of the tobacco, was him. 

You could sense him, see him as if he were standing there in front of you. Those dark curls, his hazel eyes that seemed to burn like candlelight. His lips. Lips that used to kiss you goodnight. That smiled whenever he saw you. 

You doubted you’d receive such a warm greeting now considering how you left things. Or rather, how he left. 

Rock music played into the street. It was odd, hearing him listen to modern music. It reminded you of how much of your lives you’d spent apart now. 

You knocked.

“Good lord, George, forget something alr- oh-” A pretty woman opened the door, mouth falling open when she saw you. “Hello. Sorry, I thought you were my flatmate.” 

“Hi,” you smiled, trying to sound as cheerful as possible. But as you tried to form your next words, it felt like you had cotton in your mouth. Just the idea of saying his name…

“You alright dear?” She asked. She pushed the door open further. “Why don’t you come inside, you look like-”

“I’ve seen a ghost?” You blurted. That’s what she was, you realized as you took in that faint glow of death around her. 

She blinked, looking more concerned. 

You continued before she could start something else. “Does John Mitchell live here?” 

“Um, yeah-” Her brows drew together in confusion. “I’m sorry, who are you?” 

“How rude of me,” you exclaimed, plastering a charming smile on your face. “John and I go way back. I rang him earlier, he knows I’m here.”

Annie seemed a little more at ease with your sunny demeanor. 

“Let me go get him,” she said. “You can come in and wait if you’d like?”

You stepped over the threshold, the invisible barrier falling. 

“Thank you.” 

She turned away and started up the stairs. 

You took a deep breath. 

This was a mistake. 

You couldn’t do this. You couldn’t stand there, in his living room, like you really were just some old acquaintance. 

You stepped back into the dark and let your gaze go back to the window. 

Annie knocked lightly and opened the door. 

Mitchell was laid out on his bed, exhausted from his day at work, with a book in his hands. He looked up with a rather annoyed expression. 

“There’s a woman here for you,” Annie said. She shrugged. “Irish, I think. Says she’s an old friend of yours, which I’m assuming means she’s a vampire.” Realization washes over her face and Annie bites her lip. “Oh, that means I shouldn’t have invited her in.”

Mitchell scrambled out of bed. 

 “I’m still not used to that, you know,” Annie defended, hurrying after him as he ran down the stairs.

Both paused, finding the front door open and the living room empty. 

“I swear, she was just here,” Annie said. 

The pieces started to come together in Mitchell’s mind. 

It couldn’t be. 

“Just,” he let out a heavy sigh, “be more careful about who you let in.”

“What are they going to do, kill me?” 

Mitchell rolled his eyes and returned to his room. His mind was reeling with too many thoughts for him to notice that, when he walked in, he wasn’t alone. Mitchell froze as the door clicked behind him. 

“Hello, John.” 

It wasn’t possible. That voice. Those eyes. You sat on the edge of his bed and were glad. If you were standing, you might have collapsed under his gaze. 

“Y/N,” Mitchell gasped. He steadied himself against the door. 

Those eyes.

Eyes he’d dreamt of for decades. The ones he could never get out of his head. 

“Sorry for the dramatics. I thought you might not have wanted this conversation to happen in front of your… friend.” You stood, trying to force yourself to stay calm. You were here for a reason. 

He straightened, letting whatever frustration and anger he could muster take over. 

“What are you doing here?”

“I-” You reached up as if trying to see if he was really there. If he was real. But when you saw your shaking hand, you stuffed it in your jacket pocket. “I need your help, John.” 

“You can’t be serious,” he scoffed. “It’s been-”

“I know how long it’s been,” you snapped, taking a step toward him. “Do you think I would be here if it wasn’t important?” 

“I can’t imagine what would bring you here at all.” 

You lowered your gaze to the floor and took a breath. “I heard about Herrick.”

Mitchell crossed his arms. “And you decided to pop by? Share your condolences.”

“Of course not. You know how much I hated…” You trailed off, shaking your head. “My point is, I'm not the only one who has heard, John.”

“I go by Mitchell now.”

“That would be a tad confusing for me, don’t you think?” You were letting your emotions get the better of you. “Look, I’m not here to hash out old problems. I’m here because you’re the only one who can help me, John-” You winced. “Mitchell.” 

There’s a tremor to your voice, one that always used to send protective shocks through his limbs. It still did. You were scared and it made his cold exterior melt. 

Mitchell sighed. “What happened?” 

The blood. The fire. Your cohort's bodies turned to ash and whisked away into the night. 

“I think I need a drink.” 

Mitchell frowned. 

You rolled your eyes. “Christ, I’m talking about whiskey, Mitchell. Not a waitress.”

“So you don’t…”

“I’m not perfect, I’ve had a few slips over the decades but,” you blew out a sigh, “I’m clean. For a while now.” 

He nodded. Something flashed in his gaze. If you didn’t know better, you might have thought it was admiration. The way he used to look at you…

“I’ve been trying, too,” he said. “Get clean, I mean.”

“I’m sure Herrick took that well.”

“It doesn’t matter anymore, does it?” His ferocity returned. “Herrick’s dead. Everything can go back to normal now.”

“My God, do you hear yourself?” You scoffed. “Everything can go back to normal. What is normal?”

“I have a life now, Y/N. One away from the shadows and the,” he sucked in a breath, “the blood.” He gave you a long, hard stare. “I won’t let anything mess that up again.”

“They’re going to kill me, John,” you finally blurted. “And for the first time in a long time, I am right scared.” The wavering in your voice made it hard to speak but you forced yourself to remain steady. You felt pathetic enough begging for his help. 

“Who?” Mitchell growled. He clenched his fists at his sides. 

“The coven I’ve spent the past decade with.” The name tasted foul on your tongue like you were still breathing in the ashes of your home. “Their leader- Lizzy Kain.” 

Mitchell’s face shifted again. 

“You pissed off the Kains?” He said. His voice was so calm it scared you more than the hoard of angry Irish vampires on your tail. 

You swallowed. 

Mitchell opened his door and motioned for you to follow. 

“I think I’ll get us that drink now.”

-

Y/N,

Things are getting worse. They say that one of the big players in England just became werewolf-chow and now Lizzy is going mad. She keeps talking about following in Herrick’s footsteps and taking what’s rightfully ours. I remembered you saying that name before and I was wondering if we could talk? I’m getting scared. They’re just taking people from the streets now. That creep, Ron or whatever, brought in a thirteen-year-old girl. He didn’t even turn her, just tore her apart. 

We have to stop them, somehow. 

Meet me at the old clock tower at sunset. 

Kieran

-

“So you didn’t go along with the big bad plan and Lizzy makes you an example?” Mitchell paced in front of you. “Something there doesn’t add up.”

Your fingers gripped the beer bottle in your hand so tight you thought you’d break it. 

“What did you do?” Mitchell eyed you.

You took a drink.

“Y/N-”

“I may or may not have,” you took a deep breath, “killed her husband.” 

Mitchell almost dropped his bottle. “Y-you what?” 

“He was a creep who harassed me every chance he got and he was recruiting kids. Kids, Mitchell.” 

“So you decided to take matters into your own hands, well that’s just great.” He ran a hand through the dark curls you used to tangle your fingers in. “I’m sure you feel very noble now.”

Anger pulsed through you like the heartbeat you no longer had. You stood, setting your drink aside. “I knew it was a mistake coming here.” You started for the door. 

Mitchell sighed. “Y/N, wait.” 

You kept moving. 

A hand closed around your arm. 

“Just wait.” There’s a slight plea to his voice. “I shouldn’t judge you for trying to do something… good.” You always were the good one, he wanted to add but didn’t. 

You stood there for a moment, taking him in. 

He did the same. 

“I’m sorry, but could someone please clue me in as to what the hell is going on?” Annie huffed. 

You’d forgotten she’d been standing in the kitchen doorway, listening in even though Mitchell had specifically asked for some privacy. 

Frustration returned to his face. 

“It’s complicated-”

“I’m sorry, I have been incredibly rude.” You flashed the ghost a grin, a touch of your ingrained Irish charm breaking through your panic. You crossed the living room to shake her hand. “I’m Y/N.”

“You said that, yeah.” She eyed you suspiciously. 

“Mitchell and I have known each other for a long time.” You glanced over your shoulder, unsure of how much he wanted to reveal. 

“He knew Herrick for a long time, too.” 

“Annie-”

You held up a hand to stop him. “It’s okay.” 

Annie shifted on her feet. It wasn’t normal for her to be like this and it made her uncomfortable.

“I can understand why you might have a healthy distrust of vampires.” You motioned behind you with a smirk. “Other than him, of course.”

Finally, a small smile spread across the spirit’s lips. “Even him sometimes.” 

“I can hear you.”

“We know.” Both of you said at the same time. 

Annie peaked over your shoulder. “Okay, I think I like her.” 

“I’m already winning your friends over.” You gave Mitchell a victorious smile. “Now you have to help me.” 

 He rolled his eyes. “You haven’t met George.”

“Oh, yeah, he’s right,” Annie grimaced. “Plus Nina just moved out and that’s a whole mess unto itself, let me tell you-”

Mitchell cut her off. 

“Can we get back to the reason you’re here?” He said. “What makes you think I can help you?” Mitchell held out his arms, motioning to the flat. “It isn’t exactly the perfect place to hide.”

“Who are we hiding?” The door opened as he was speaking. The man you’d bumped into before stepped in. He spotted you and furrowed his brows. “Oh, um, hello.”

“Wait,” Annie said, still trying to wrap her mind around everything. “How exactly do you two know each other again? Were you part of Herrick’s groupies?”

“Herrick?” George gulped. 

“No, it isn’t that.” Mitchell moved to stand next to you. “George, this is Y/N.” He turned to you, a flicker of who he used to be resurfacing as he spoke. “My wife.” 

[gwenboucharddidnothingwrong]

i think we can all agree that it’s not gonna be as simple as ‘arthur gets his daughter back, john and arthur get to live separately’ right? but what if it was? (well not quite but hear me out)

kayne has shown that he’s able to interact with faroe in other timelines, and also transport people (john and arthur atleast) between those timelines, but would he really be capable of creating a whole new faroe for arthur even if he is telling the truth? or of giving john his own body? i don’t think so.

i reckon that, for kayne to bring back faroe in the ‘middle c’ universe, he’d have to take her out of another timeline, which would cause all sorts of problems elswhere. (although tbh i wouldn’t put it past kayne. he doesn’t seem all that bothered as to what effects his actions have on other timelines). even if arthur got faroe back, would he just be forced to let her go/have her taken away from him because of some interdimentional reasons beyond his control?

also, what’s so special about the arthur in our timeline? i mean, kayne is most likely not even from the ‘middle c’ timeline, and the whole ‘darkthur’ thing shows he’s been following what’s been going on in the other timelines. who’s to say he’s not been making empty promises to every other arthur and john? AND IF HE HAS WHAT WOULD THAT MEAN (does he need the same thing from multiple timelines?? tbh i don’t think this point is particularly likely, but just putting it out there)

and as for john getting his own body - he wouldn’t be getting his own back. unless kayne is planning on reuniting him with the king in yellow, where the hell would he be getting that body from? would it be human? would it not? (OR HE COULD JUST PUT HIM IN PARKERS DEAD BODY SSJSJDJGJKFJGG)

the promises he made them are really vague which makes me think he’s definitely not giving them the full picture of the deal they’re making (i mean considering it’s kayne we’re talking about i guess that was a given but still).

also i get that, considering the threats that kayne has made, they don’t have much of a choice but to do what he’s told them to, but what about the repercussions of giving kayne what he wants? it’s clearly not gonna be anything good, and now i come to think of it we know next to nothing about his actual motives. so far he’s pretty much just showed up, killed people, and caused problems.

i’m gonna be real i wasn’t paying that much attention at this point in the episode so i can’t actually remember exactly what he wanted arthur and john to get, but considering the threats he made to make sure they didn’t have any option but to do what he wanted, it’s gotta be really important to him.

and tbh, i’ve got a feeling kayne is working for someone, or atleast being made to do this. he went to some pretty big lengths to prove to john and arthur not only how much power he had, but to make it clear what he was willing to do with that power. i don’t actually have much evidence to back this point up tbh but IVE GOT A FEELING ABOUT IT OK

and also why does he need arthur to do it? is it arthur specifically that he needs for whatever reason? i mean that would make sense, why else would kayne be forcing him to do it, and why else would he have gotten john to try and make arthur get that stone (was that what it was? again, i’m bad at following for the whole hour) in new york.

but has he made them do whatever it is because he knows something will happen? has he made all those promises to john and arthur knowing it won’t matter either way because they aren’t going to make it back?

tldr, even if kayne were to give john and arthur what he said he would, there’s no way it would be as simple as he says it is

(wow, didn’t expect this post to go on for so long, well done for reading if you got up to here, have an unrelated doodle i drew in my physics book below the cut and go drink some water or something)

(his name is jumbo!)

[savemefromanepicoftimewasted]

Sometimes Change Can Be Better

John "Soap" MacTavish X Reader Platonic!Task Force 141 X Reader

Internally you rolled your eyes, this was either some ploy for you and Johnny to get closer which didn’t sound like a bad time. However there was also the idea that maybe Johnny didn’t have the best intentions which worried you. The only way to find out was to throw caution to the wind and simply try.

a/n:this fic was brought on by an idea that @gaylemonshark and I had, and I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

You and Marc had been the best of friends since childhood, you were the first person he opened up to when it came to his DID. His parents were completely unaware of the struggles he dealt with, from blaming himself for his brother's death, to his mothers abuse. He had told you first when he signed up for the army, shocked that you had beaten him to it. Your parents had been disappointed, angry that you were willingly putting yourself into danger. You didn’t want to admit it was because of Marc, that you’d heard whispers of what he planned to do. It had been a long and grueling few years, testing your limits every single day. Marc was the only reason you’d managed to stay alive as long, keeping you safe.

So when he got dishonorably discharged you followed suit, leaving your life behind to join Marc in where his adventure led him next. And then you’d been shot and left for dead, watching Marc crawl into the tomb your team had been raiding. No one had known that they were living their last few minutes, shot execution style. Except for you and Marc, for some reason they’d assumed you would die and left before you could say otherwise. A strange light seemed to glow from inside the tomb, causing you to shut your eyes tight. Marc had come running out moments later, pressing his hands against the wound.

“You’re gonna be alright sweetheart, I promise.” And Marc, true to his word, made sure you survived the night.

He’d told you all about Khonshu, the Egyptian god that had given him the ceremonial robes so he could help keep people safe. He’d done everything he could to make sure no harm ever came to you, of course after taking care of a few loose ends. It lessened the guilt he felt after dropping you off in London, saying that he couldn’t risk your life anymore. It had hurt to be left behind, you’d given up your entire life for him, and this was the thanks you got? Of course he had never asked you to do that, but you didn’t have anyone else in your life.

And then one day he simply showed back up, bag thrown over his shoulder and a poor excuse as to why he’d suddenly come back. You wanted to slam the door in his face, to tell him that you wanted nothing to do with him. Except you couldn’t do that, not to someone that had been your friend for so long. So you invited him in and made him a cup of coffee. He admitted to everything, getting married to a woman named Layla, getting divorced from said woman. You were more upset that you hadn’t been invited to the wedding than the fact he’d gotten married.

There were never romantic feelings between the two of you, something you were a little thankful for considering that could end a friendship faster than anything. Marc on the other hand would scare away any romantic partner that tried to get close to you. It became very annoying after the first few times, especially when you wanted nothing more than for someone to warm your bed for the night. You’d all but kicked him out for the night, demanding to be left alone until you called him in the morning. Marc had showed up nearly four hours after you called, more annoyed than anything.

“Now you know how it feels! I’m not a kid Marc, you don’t need to worry about me at every turn and corner.” You didn’t want him to keep hovering, it was becoming tiresome.

“I’m going to worry about you anyway, you’re my best friend.” Marc patted your shoulder gently, heading over to make himself a cup of coffee.

You opened your mouth to make a retort, that even though the two of you were the best of friends that you needed space sometimes. However a bright light encompassed your entire apartment, bathing the space in a warmth that seemed to sink into your bones. It was the sudden pull that worried you, what the hell was going on?

“Marc?!” Your panicked scream caught his attention, turning around and shielding his eyes from the light.

“Y/N!” Marc reached towards you, body pulling into what felt like a black hole.

Your body was thrown around, struggling to slow down as you hurtled toward somewhere completely foreign. The ground came hurtling towards you faster than you’d been expecting, throwing your arms out to try and stop yourself from slamming against the hard wood. Unfortunately it did little to soften the blow, pain radiated throughout your entire body as you lay gasping for air. After a few excruciating moments you had finally been able to catch your breath, pushing up and off the floor slowly.

A gun pressed itself against the back of your head, an imposing form stood ramrod straight and waiting to see what explanation you would be able to give.

“I know this is going to sound insane, but I’m pretty sure I just got transported from my universe.” Sure there were Norse gods and even Egyptian gods that roamed the streets in your world, but this wasn’t home.

“You really think I’m dumb enough to believe that?” The gun pressed closer, digging into your skin as the person stepped closer.

“I swear! I was in my apartment with a friend of mine when this big ball of light came out of nowhere.” God you really did sound insane, they definitely weren’t going to believe you now.

You waited with baited breath for the safety to turn off, but no such noise happened. Instead the person behind you lowered the gun, stepping away from you slowly. You didn’t so much as relax your breathing, keeping your eyes focused on the wall in front of you. It was better to assume the worst than believe that everything would be alright.

“You’re coming with me.” A hand wrapped around your bicep, all but dragging you out of the room and into what looked like a living room.

Holy shit, had you managed to land yourself in someone’s apartment? Oh shit you were definitely not going to make it out alive now. Would Marc be able to find you before they did unspeakable things to your body?

“You were right, Price, something did happen.” The man shoved you towards a kitchen table.

Three men sat around the table, sending a nervous shiver down your spine as you took them all in slowly. The one closest to you could damn well be a model, you were half tempted to ask him if he was. The man in the middle had a look about him that screamed dad. Was he the dad of the group? The man on the left of him, to your right,  definitely had you feeling a little more tongue tied. He had a rugged look about him that screamed “I’ve definitely seen some shit, but I can also make you laugh”. Definitely the cutest out of the three that you could see, considering your captor(?)was wearing a balaclava.

“What’s your name sweetheart?” Dad had leaned forward, hands clasped atop of the table.

“Y/N, sir.” Why did you feel the need to be so formal with him? Or with any of the men for that matter.

“Can you tell us exactly how you got here?” You nodded, pulling out the chair closest to you before sitting down.

You left out some of the less than pleasant details, only letting them know that you’d had a small argument with a friend before you suddenly found yourself here. To anyone that hadn’t witnessed what you had, they would’ve thought you were insane for sure. For someone like you it was normal, watching people from different universes land right in front of you. Hell, you had been snapped from existence for five years because of some purple alien. That was a horrible time, but after finding out that Marc had been snapped too you felt a little better.

“Have to admit, it’s pretty insane, but there’s stuff we just can’t explain.” It sounded like a poor excuse, but you’d told them all you could.

It helped ease your mind for a moment, if they believed that you hadn’t somehow snuck in to cause issues then surely everything would be alright. Hopefully Marc wasn’t getting himself into too much trouble.

_______

It felt strange being around the team, but at the same time you’d grown quite close to the group of men. You and Gaz had become nearly inseparable after meeting, playing harmless pranks on the other guys. It was kind of nice to not have any worries for a little while, even if the time was slowly taunting you. It had been nearly six months since you’d arrived and there was no guarantee that you would be leaving at all.

On one hand you didn’t want to, these people were some of the best you’d met in your entire life. Being a veteran helped get you into their good graces a little quicker, you had told them about your own past, the things you’d bared witness too. It was simply a natural thing for you, once you felt comfortable with someone new you’d bare your soul. The group had offered to head out to a pub for a night out, and who were you to object?

However you’d forgotten how much of a lightweight you were, and after only two drinks and three shots in you were definitely drunk.

“I’m telling ya! There’s a correlation between daddy issues and wanting to be bear hugged.” Your filter had slipped away completely, leaving you vulnerable to your own words.

“And why do ya say that?” Soap was more confused than anything by your statement.

“My dad was super emotionally absent, never told me he was proud of me, never told me he loved me, and was overall really sucky.” You normally never talked about your parents, considering neither of them were very supportive.

It hadn’t bothered you as often anymore, considering the fact that you’d slowly started to accept the fact that you’d be on your own. They were angry when you decided to stay in London, even after Marc stopped speaking to you. You wanted to visit for the holidays, but with how standoffish they’d become it was better to avoid them altogether. Sometimes a family you make is better than a family you have.

“Well, why don’t we test the theory?” Price stood up from the booth, smiling when you all but threw yourself over Soap’s lap.

“Yes please!” You threw your arms around his waist, relishing in the way his arms tightened around you.

Hugging Price felt like coming inside after a cold winter day to a bowl of warm soup, the first rays of sunshine after a rainstorm. It truly was something that you couldn’t fully explain, but it slowly warmed your heart. Even though he didn’t have any children of his own just yet, Price definitely gave a warm dad hug.

“I could fall asleep standing here if you let me.” You laughed into his chest, the soft scent of his cologne wrapping around you.

“As much as I’m sure you’d like to do that, we are standing in people’s way.” John was the first to let go, patting your shoulder gently.

“Thank you, it means more than you’d think.” You squeezed him one last time, sliding back into the booth beside Johnny.

The conversation seemed to flow to a lighter topic, leaving you feeling both comforted and happy that you could really open up. Kyle and Simon were talking about the different sights they’d see during missions, how they wished they sometimes could take photos as keepsakes. You knew how dangerous memories could be, if the wrong person found out where you’d been on a certain day it could end in death for you, or someone close to you. So instead you kept everything to memory,

Sunrises when you’d spent the entire night trying to run from the enemy, sunsets alongside Marc who was doing his best to ruin your day. Life hadn’t turned out the way you’d expected, nothing ever truly did, but this was a nice change of pace. You were surrounded by people who wanted you there, who laughed at the terrible jokes you made, who brought your spirits up when you were upset. It made you miss Marc at times, considering how long you’d known one another, but he wasn’t here.

Johnny leaned back in his spot, casually stretching and laying his arm across the booth along your back. You knew exactly what he was trying to do, it was something you’d seen in countless movies, and dealt with time and time again before. You didn’t say anything though, waiting to see if Johnny would work up the courage. Your prayers were answered as his arm slid down, warm skin pressing against your own as his fingers rested against your shoulder. Simon was the first to notice what was going on, a smirk pulling at his lips. He wouldn’t draw anymore attention, knowing it could ruin an otherwise sweet moment.

“Why don’t we get something to eat, soak up some of the liquor our dear friend has been drinking?” John slid out of the booth, pulling Simon with him to go put the order in at the bar.

“I’m gonna help em, lord knows they’ll end up dropping all the damn plates.” Kyle rolled his eyes, sliding out and following behind the other two men.

Internally you rolled your eyes, this was either some ploy for you and Johnny to get closer which didn’t sound like a bad time. However there was also the idea that maybe Johnny didn’t have the best intentions which worried you. The only way to find out was to throw caution to the wind and simply try.

“Looks like they abandon us, how rude.” His tone was teasing and playful, but with his lips being so close to your ear it sent a shudder down your spine.

“Well I think you’re correct, quite rude of them indeed.” You turned your head, eyes locking onto his.

His eyes were like deep blue pools, and you felt that you would get lost in them if given the chance. Had he always been this beautiful, or was your mind suddenly clear enough to see what was truly in front of you? Your eyes flicked to his lips and back up, when had your mouth suddenly become so dry? Johnny didn’t give you another moment to debate before pulling you flush to his side, his left arm wrapping around your waist. The other three hadn’t come back yet and you were grateful, nothing worse than having your kiss ruined.

“Johnny, please.” Your voice was breathy, hand sliding up his chest.

“Since you asked so nicely.” He smiled before pressing his lips to yours so softly, you weren’t sure if you’d ascended to the heavens or not.

Your lips moved together methodically, the stubble lining his chin burned so pleasantly. He groaned into the kiss, hands gripping your waist tighter. Someone clearing their throat loudly caused the two of you to pull apart, you couldn’t hide the embarrassment on your face. Johnny of course was as confident as ever, hiding your face in his side to protect you.

“We come bearing food, so if you wouldn’t mind not acting like teenagers that would be wonderful.” Kyle set down two plates along with Simon and John setting down the other five.

“Sorry, got a little distracted.” You playfully slapped Johnny’s chest, straightening yourself up and fixing your hair to be more presentable.

“We know, you have some lipstick leftover.” Johnny reached up to wipe off his lips, noticing that Kyle wasn’t lying.

“They said it was transfer proof, damnit.” You’d gone shopping earlier that day, wanting to get a few more personal things since you were still stuck here.

“Don’t believe those, had plenty of girls kiss me and leave their mark.” Kyle was confident, and for good reason, so you weren’t surprised he’d pulled many ladies before.

John shut down any more comments and instructed everyone to dig in before the food started to get cold. You grabbed the mozzarella sticks right away, laughing when Simon gave you a shocked expression. Who didn’t love fried cheese? It was downright delicious. You gladly handed over a few of them in exchange for some of the fries he had. The food hit the spot, soaking up your drinks and sobering you up ever so slightly. You were definitely still tipsy, but nothing like before.

The rest of the night was filled with stories and laughter, putting you on the spot to tell an embarrassing story as everyone else had done so. You told a story about you walking in on Marc and his girlfriend at the time doing the hanky panky. It was a story you and Marc joked about constantly, mainly because the girl he was dating was loud. Had it not been for your headphones you would have heard them in the hallways. Kyle promised not to walk in on you and Johnny later, further causing you to hide in shame.

John was driving everyone back, seeing that he’d only had one pint early on in the night and didn’t trust anyone else to drive in their inebriated states. Simon called shotgun immediately, leaving Kyle stuck with you and Johnny in the backseat. You knew to behave, being in a confined space was a recipe for disaster. Your mind went back to where Marc was, and if he was safe. Surely he could handle his own, he’d done it for years after he left you to fend for yourself in London.

“Alright, please make it to your rooms and do not get into the damn kitchen again please.” John had pulled up outside of his apartment.

It was an agreement that any time you guys went out everyone would crash at someone’s apartment to make sure they were all doing well the next day. Simon was a tank when it came to alcohol, he could drink everyone under the table and still seem as if he was sober. Kyle could hold his own but he became very giggly and cuddly. John was your typical drunk guy, made bad jokes and laughed at everything. Johnny you were beginning to learn was a major flirt, and a damn good kisser.

“Alright captain, see you in the morning.” Kyle made himself comfortable on the couch, not even bothering to change into something more comfortable.

“You two better behave, don’t want the neighbors banging on my door because you kept them up.” John pointed his finger between you and Johnny.

“Don’t worry, we’ll be good.” Johnny steered you towards one of the extra bedrooms, shutting the door behind you.

You grabbed your pajamas and laid them on the bed, sliding your shirt off before unclipping your bra with a soft groan. No one liked wearing bras, they were uncomfortable and annoying to put on and taking them off felt so good.

“Jesus.” Johnny’s voice was breathless, gaze wandering over the skin that was now on display.

“Mmm?” You’d completely forgotten he was in the room with you for a moment, unbuttoning your pants and sliding them down your legs.

“All this for me?” Johnny walked over slowly, palms sliding over your back and sides.

His skin was hot to the touch, like fire and ice.

“Maybe.” You leant back against his chest, relishing in the feeling of his body and hands against yours.

“I’ll be sure to appreciate it very much.” His lips pressed against your neck, sliding down to the waistband of your panties.

You couldn’t stop the moan that slipped through your lips, not realizing you would be making those noises for the rest of the night.

—---------

Sunlight was streaking along your intertwined bodies, soft snores filling the otherwise quiet room as the two of you slept peacefully. Simon and Kyle tiptoed in the room, carefully pulling the sheet over your body so that you would still be covered in case Johnny flailed. Somehow both men had woken up completely fine, no hangovers in sight. Stepping away from the bed Kyle raised his hands to start clapping loudly. Simon prepared himself for however Johnny was going to react.

“Wakey wakey love birds! Time to get up!” Both you and Johnny lunged up in bed, grabbing onto the sheet to keep yourself modest.

“Jesus, what the hell’s wrong with you?” Johnny was more annoyed at being woken up than that they were seeing the two of you nearly nude.

“John’s making food and wanted us to get you.” Simon shrugged before heading back out of the room, letting Kyle shut it behind him.

You flopped back into the pillows, head throbbing with a hangover from all the alcohol you’d had the night before. Clearly they hadn’t been affected and now you were annoyed. Not only was your head throbbing from the hangover, your entire body was sore from last night as well. Johnny was a man who knew damn well how to make you feel good and leave you wanting even more.

“Mmm, c’mere.” Johnny slid his arms around your waist, pulling your body flush to his own.

“Don’t think I could take you again this morning, a little too sore.” It was a good type of sore, something that would resonate for a couple of days at the least.

“‘S too bad, could just eat you right up.” His lips pressed against your neck softly, trailing down until they reached the top of your chest.

“Johnny, please.” Your nails dug into the skin on his shoulders, breath shaky as you tried to stop the racing of your heart.

Unfortunately Simon chose that moment to start banging on the door, demanding the two of you come out and eat breakfast. Both you and Johnny groaned, pulling away from one another to grab your clothes. He didn’t bother to pull on a shirt, leaving his torso on display in all its glory.

“Better put on a shirt unless you want Simon pointing out all the hickies you have.” His chest and neck were littered with dark purple splotches, scratches lining the skin on his back.

“You just don’t want ‘em seeing your handiwork.” Johnny was a confident man, had every right to be considering how he looked.

“Maybe I want to keep you all to myself for a little longer.” The shirt you’d stolen from Simon a couple months ago landed on your mid thigh, covering the shorts you’d thrown on.

“After breakfast I’m all yours.” Johnny threw a wink your way, pulling on his shirt from last night before heading out to the kitchen.

You fanned yourself for a moment, memories from the night before flooding your mind. Hopefully they hadn’t heard you and their teammate getting down and dirty like two college kids. John was sitting at the table, nursing a cup of coffee and scrolling through his laptop almost absentmindedly. Gaz and Simon were both cooking breakfast and brewing tea, and coffee for whoever wanted to partake. The moment Johnny’s eyes landed on you he pulled you into his lap, arms wrapping around your waist.

“Keep it PG you kids, don’t want to see the two of you going at it.” You hid your face in Johnny’s neck, hiding the way your whole body flushed.

“No worries cap, we’ll behave.” It didn’t matter if he was joking, Johnny wouldn’t push you if it made you uncomfortable.

You went to make a retort at John, to tell him that you were going to be on your best behavior around everyone else, until a knock at the door stopped you. It could be a number of people, and now you were nervous that they were going to be sent on a mission and leave you here. John went over to see who it was, opening the door slowly and carefully.

“Can I help you?” His voice wasn’t friendly, whoever this was was a complete stranger.

“Uhh hi, I’m looking for a friend of mine and I think she might be here?” Wait, you knew that voice.

“Marc?” Your head whipped up, body straightening as you waited to see if you were correct.

“Y/N?” Marc sounded shocked, he’d finally managed to find you.

John stepped back to let him inside, shutting the door behind him to keep the sense of privacy to everyone else in the apartment. You were ecstatic to see him standing before you, it’d been so long that you weren’t sure you’d ever see him again. Pressing a quick kiss to Johnny’s cheek you pushed yourself to run over to Marc, hugging him tightly.

“It’s been so long! Where the hell have you been?” If you were an honest person you’d tell Marc he looked like hell, his hair was a little longer, a beard covering his normally smooth cheeks.

“I’ve been looking for you, I’m pretty sure we both got sent here.” Marc suddenly realized how many people were standing around staring at him.

Simon was glaring at him, arms crossed over his chest as Gaz simply raised a brow in a “who the fuck are you?” type of expression. You were too afraid to turn around and look at Johnny and see how he looked.

“Sorry, these guys have been keeping safe since I got here. That’s Simon, Kyle, John, and Johnny.” You turned back around to face Johnny, noticing that he didn’t look angry at all, he looked almost lovestruck.

“Nice to meet everyone.” Marc wouldn’t admit how nervous he felt, it was obvious these men could kill someone and make it look like an accident.

“How’d you manage to find me?” You pulled him over to the table, sitting back in Johnny’s lap while Marc took the chair between you and John.

He began to explain how he’d landed somewhere in the US and spent the first couple months trying to work odd jobs to help get enough money to find you. Khonshu had also followed him, so at least he was safe from anyone who wanted to harm him. And then he began to talk about how he illegally hacked into a military base and managed to find you through security cameras. Had you not gone out with the boys the previous night it would’ve taken him longer to find you, according to Marc at least.

“So, get your stuff so we can go home.” Marc stood up, brushing off his pants and waiting for you to comply.

“Oh..Marc I don’t think I want to go back.” Your life here has been happier in the last few months than back in your own universe.

“What? Are you serious right now?” Marc was getting annoyed, why the hell would you want to stay somewhere you didn’t exist?

“Yes, I actually have people that like having me around, it’s not like my parents are going to be so sad that I suddenly disappeared.” They’d move on within a few weeks, you were sure of it.

Marc wanted to retort, to say that you were making a horrible decision by staying with people you truly didn’t know, but with the way one of them was glaring at him, he thought better of it.

“If I go back without you, there’s a chance you’ll never be able to go back, I need you to understand that.” Marc was hoping you would understand where he was coming from, however you stood strong.

“Marc, you know I care about you a lot, but I didn’t have a purpose there, I was working a deadend job waiting to see what life would give to me. I was depressed and not even you cared enough to stick around for longer than a week.” You loved Marc, and Steven, but you needed something stable in your life.

“I’ll give you a few more days to think about it, but if your mind is truly made up then I’ll leave you to it.” Marc sighed, turning without another word and leaving the apartment.

Johnny gently squeezed your hip, trying to reassure you that he was here if you needed the support. You laid your fingers overtop of his own, his touch seeming to ground you even more than usual. John was frowning, it was a look that you didn’t prefer seeing on his face, or any of theirs for that matter.

“I need to know, I don’t want to push myself onto you guys if you don’t want me here, I know I just kind of got dropped here by accident but..yeah.” Your heart started to race, what if they didn’t want you to stay after all?

“Sweetheart, I think I speak for everyone here when I say that we would love nothing more than for you to stay here with us, you’ve been the best thing that came into all of our lives.” Johnny’s words warmed your soul.

You’d finally found your purpose, felt like you truly belonged somewhere you’d found yourself, albeit by complete and total accident. You would sit down and talk with Johnny before making the final decision, this wasn’t something to take lightly.

—-------

Marc was waiting inside the cafe near the apartment you were staying in, waiting to see if you would be coming home with him or if this was a final goodbye. He’d ordered himself a coffee, rolling his eyes at the looks he got from the barista. Sure, they were in England and he could’ve let Steven take over when ordering but he wanted to speak with you personally.

“Sorry I’m late!” You ran over to the table, pulling out the chair and sitting down quickly.

“I’ve only been here for a couple minutes anyway, you’re fine.” Marc wouldn’t tell you the truth, that he’d finished his coffee and nearly ordered a second cup.

“I’ve made my decision, I sat down with everybody and we talked about what would be best for them but also for me.” You looked down at the table, afraid to see the hurt that was coursing through his eyes.

Marc already knew the answer, he knew he wouldn’t be leaving with you by his side, that he was losing the one true friend he had. It was painful, deep down he would always think about your friendship and how even through thick and thin you were there for him. This wasn’t his decision though, you were able to make your own decisions and he needed to respect that.

“Umm, Stephen Strange contacted me last night, he found out about what had happened and offered to let us come back today and when I told him that I wanted to stay he promised that we could keep in touch.” You looked up slowly, watching the realization dawn on Marc’s face.

“Wait, he’d be able to let me visit?” This wasn’t something he thought possible, he’d always assumed it would be a one way ticket home.

“He gave me a way to contact him if I ever wanted, or needed to see you.” Your eyes filled with tears, a happy smile pulling up your face.

Marc threw himself around the table, pulling you into a vice tight hug. He wouldn’t lose you after all. Steven was rejoicing in his head, he seemed even happier with the news you had given them.

“Better let me be invited to your wedding.” Marc muttered into your hair, you couldn’t help but laugh.

“You’ll be the first to know.” You pressed your face further into his chest, letting tears soak into the cotton of his shirt.

“I’m gonna miss you a lot kid, try not to get into too much trouble without me around.” Marc pressed a kiss to your forehead, this day was ending on a much happier note.

“I’ll try.” You pulled from his embrace, giving him one last smile before running from the coffee shop to where Johnny was waiting outside.

Marc watched the way he wrapped you up in his arms, smothering your face in kisses while you laughed loudly. He’d always been your protector, needing to keep you safe from the horrors of the world, but now you had someone else to do that for you. And he wouldn’t lose you, not anymore.

[pandoras-moony]

The world keeps spinning (but not for me)

deancas fic set post confession!

1 Month since Cas’s Death

He’s gone.

He’s actually gone this time.

Dean cant feel him anymore.

He’s gone and it’s all Dean’s fault.

He goes searching for the answers at the bottom of whiskey bottles and in the messes of his vomit that cover the bunker floor.

Sam keeps asking what happened, and the thing is Dean wants to tell him. He wants to break down in his baby brother’s arms and wail until his lungs cant function anymore, he hopes he screams so loud it rips his throat raw and he drowns in his own blood. But every time he looks at Sam, or Jack all he hears is

“Because you cared I cared… I cared about Sam, about Jack..”

Because of you, I’m dead.

Every night Dean sits in the pitch black emptiness of the library, drowning his sorrows in whatever alcohol he can find and he talks. He talks to Cas, prays to him rather. He knows wherever Cas is, he cant hear him. Somehow that makes it easier for him, easier to whisper “I love you” into the darkness and know he’ll never hear it back. It’s not like he deserves it anyway.

2 Months since Cas’s Death

Dean wakes up every morning drenched in sweat and screaming Cas’s name. Sam holds him until he starts breathing normally again and then Dean tells him to fuck off, doesn’t Sam get it? He killed Cas. Dean murdered Cas. It’s all his fault. Why the fuck should he feel any ounce of comfort or remorse when Cas never even got to feel loved?

No one should hold Dean. Or touch him. Or speak to him.

He has to preserve who he was when he was last with Cas.

He tells the library so every night.

3 Months since Cas’s Death

“Fuck you.”

“Dean we needed to know what happened, you-“

“You had no right!”

Sam watched the tapes from the dungeon. The ones where-

“Dean you wont talk to us and you’re killing yourself! You- I cant even recognise you half the time anymore Dean. When you’re not sleeping and screaming his name you’re angry, drunk and you’re looking for something to hurt and it always seems to be you that you land on Dean- I see the bruises on your fists, please Dean, you’re scaring Jack.”

That cut deeper than Dean can ever say ‘you’re scaring Jack.’ thats exactly what Dean used to say to John when he got like this. He used to hold Sam and promise him he would never let anything bad happen to him, that he’d never let their dad lay a hand on him.

Oh how the mighty have fallen.

“Fuck. You.” Dean bites out. He takes a step towards Sam and a part of him dies when Sam flinches back.

He doesn’t stop.

“You think you know what fuckin’ happened Sammy? You think you could ever understand how it fucking feels?” Deans pointer finger slammed against Sam’s chest. “I killed him. Me.” Sam cupped deans hand gently “You know that’s not true.” always so soft, despite everything.

A bitter, rotten laugh claws its way up from Deans throat “Isn’t it? You heard the man!” Dean yanks his hand away “Or did you watch him die in silence. Did you watch it take him in the quiet?” He stalks closer to Sam now, in his face, daring Sam to reply. He doesn’t.

“Well lucky fucking you.” he whispered as he heard the words die a twisted death on his tongue. Dean shoved Sam back and began pacing slowly.

“I sure wish I could’ve lived it in silence- because all I fucking hear anymore is him! He’s not even here and all I see is him, except for when I look in the mirror cause then I’m just dad.”

Dean is spiralling and he doesn’t know what he’s saying. He doesn’t know where he is, or what’s happening, he wants to hurt everything and everyone around him, but he has to protect Sam. Always his brothers protector.

“What he said-“

‘I love you.’

Dean nearly chokes on his words, they come out quiet and afraid and fill all the space in the room once inhabited by Dean’s whiskey flavoured torment. “It- It wasn’t for you.” He’s crying, he can feel it. Searing tear tracks flow down his face and Sam takes a step closer with his arms spread, ready to hold Dean together.

Dean spins on his heels and slams the door on his way out without a word.

He cries in the Library that night and imagines the black tar swallowing him too.

“I love you Cas… how could you do this? Why? Why, sweetheart? I could have gone with you.”

There was a deafening silence.

“Why didn’t you take me with you?”

4 Months since Cas’s Death

Dean doesn’t speak all month, too busy guzzling spirits.

They’re on to something big, they’re going to defeat Chuck.

Dean cant bring himself to care.

Until his phone rings.

“Cas?” he rasps into the phone.

It’s his voice.

In a heartbeat he’s up, and before he knows it he’s at the door and opening it. Not even thinking for a second that this could be a trick. All he could think was Cas.

It’s him.

It’s Cas.

It’s Cas.

CasCasCasCasCasCasCasCasCasCasCasCasCasCasCasCasCasCasCasCasCasCasCasCasCasCasCasCasCasCasCasCasCasCasCasCasCasCasCasCasCasCasCasCasCasCasCasCasCasCasCasCasCasCasCasCasCasCasCasCasCasCasCasCasCasCasCasCasCasCasCasCas-

He opened the door.

Lucifer.

His sobs were all that filled the Library that night.

5 Months since Cas’s Death

Jack’s gone too.

They beat Chuck, the world is back.

But Dean lost another person.

Because he’s selfish, Dean prays for Jack to come back to them. He was clinging to Jack, the closest thing to Cas he had left.

But because Jack was so similar to Cas, he did the right thing and left Dean’s prayers unanswered.

Eileen tries to talk to Dean, he ignores her. Seeing her there with Sam’s hand on her shoulder, and pity in her eyes is too much, it’s just another reminder of what Dean will never, ever have.

That night in the library Dean doesn’t drink, he just talks to the empty space until he falls asleep.

“I used to hate that you stood so friggin close to me all the time man. I mean really hate it.” He laughed quietly to himself, “But it’s so cold without you now.”

“Thought I saw you today.”

“God, I miss your eyes.”

“Sammy mentioned you yesterday, we were out at some fair thing and there was all these farm animals in a pen- he said ‘Cas would’ve loved all these little guys’” He took a deep breath in “and you know what? I almost let myself imagine it and smile, before i said ‘We have to bring him sometime.’” The crying started then, and it didn’t stop until Deans head hit the table.

6 Months since Cas’s Death

“He loved me.”

He’s not sure why he says it, but Sam looks up from his breakfast and looks at Dean like his heart just shattered. Dean keeps cutting up his food.

“You wanna know the worst part? Think I loved him too.”

The knife and fork clatter and Dean sinks to the floor.

He cries for hours and Sam holds him as their food goes cold.

12 Months since Cas’s Death.

Dean is 4 months sober.

When Sam moved in with Eileen, Dean got his own apartment. It’s pretty shitty but it does its job.

They turned the bunker into a halfway home for any hunters who needed it.

He’s a firefighter now.

He still talks to Cas every night.

[razzle-zazzle]

6561 Words; Between AU, TBT, JD's arrival

AO3 ver

“All right, Rhonda, we’re here.”

John Dory stepped away from the wheel as his armadillo-bus and main companion came to a stop at the edge of what he really hoped was the main settlement of the Pop Trolls. With a grunt, John Dory opened the door and hopped out, giving Rhonda’s side a small pat before heading towards where the pods were thickest.

It had taken him weeks to properly track this place down, and even longer to actually work up the courage to visit. If it wasn’t for Floyd’s letter, John Dory probably would have kept traveling for years, only ever thinking about Pop Village—or was it Trollstopia?—as a place on his map he could visit someday.

But now John Dory was here on a mission. He had a brother to save, and to do that, he’d need to track down all the rest of his brothers. Might as well start with the easiest—all he had from Spruce were unmarked postcards, he’d heard nothing from Clay at all, and Floyd was the brother in need of rescuing. Which left Bitty B, who up until a few months ago John Dory had been pretty sure was dead—but now wasn’t the time to think about that. John Dory had a baby brother to find.

As he made his way past pods and Trolls, tail nervously lashing behind him, John Dory took in the sights and sounds of a place that was all too familiar and all too alien all at once. It brought him back to his days in the tree, even though the community here was much more spread out. And it wasn’t just pods—John Dory could see all kinds of Trolls walking about, could see Country housing and Funk spaceships and even lights coming from within the larger bodies of water scattered about. And ooo, there were even Rock and Classical! Not exactly John Dory’s style, as a Pop Troll through and through, but it wasn’t as unsettling to see as John Dory had feared.

John Dory came to a stop before a large mushroom serving as a central pavilion, looking around. How in the world was he going to find Bitty B from here? He supposed he could ask around, use his natural charms to get the answers he needed, but… there were so many Trolls, all around, so much color and life and music going on that John Dory wanted to retreat back to the calm of Rhonda.

John Dory shook his head, dispelling his anxieties. What was he thinking? He had this in the bag! He used to be the leader of Brozone, of course he could handle a crowd.

With a laugh, John Dory launched himself up onto the mushroom, opening his mouth to start calling out for his brother—

“Oh, you’re new!” Pink filled his vision, darting in and out of his line of sight as an excited blur circled around and looked him over. “I’ve never seen you before, which is weird because I thought I knew everybody who lived here! Which means you must be new which means we haven’t gotten to know each other yet which means we get to get to know each other and become friends if you’re okay with that and oh my hair I forgot to ask your name!” None of the words were registering, coming out so fast that they all blurred together into an aural sludge that went right in one ear and out the other.

John Dory reflexively stepped back from the deluge of sheer energy coming off of what resolved itself to be a Troll, bright pink and bouncing excitedly. Her tail was whipping back and forth with a frenetic energy as she bounced in place, holding out her paw.

“I’m Poppy!” Poppy introduced herself. “And you are?” There was something so bright in her eyes, an energy that John Dory could only remember seeing in the happiest of Pop Trolls. Wow, he really had been on his own for a while, hadn’t he?

John Dory held out his paw to return the pawshake, but the moment he opened his mouth Poppy squealed again as recognition hit her, her eyes alight with vicious glee.

“Oh! My! HAIR! You’re from—you’re from BROZONE!” Poppy squealed again, clasping her paws together in excitement. “Oooo, but which one?” She pondered, leaning in to examine John Dory more closely. “No, don’t tell me! I wanna guess!” She hummed contemplatively, walking a slow circle around John Dory.

“You’re not the Heartthrob,” Poppy commented, the words hitting harder than John Dory was expecting. He could be a heartthrob! “The Fun Boy? No, you seem kinda uptight…”

“Weird thing to say about someone you just met,” John Dory commented, but Poppy continued to theorize.

“Definitely not the Sensitive One…” Poppy’s face lit up, “Oh, I know!” She cheered, certainty in her voice. “You’re John Dory!”

John Dory nodded. “The Leader—”

“The Old One!” Poppy finished, hopping up and down in place. Her paws were clasped together in excitement. “So what brings you to Trollstopia?”

John Dory’s tail was flat against the floor. Sure, he was in his forties, but barely! He wasn’t old! He still had so many decades left in him! He was in his prime!

“I’m here to find my brothers.” He said. “It’s…” Did he want to confide in Poppy about Floyd’s imprisonment? She certainly felt trustworthy, but this was more of a family issue.

“You brothers… the rest of Brozone?!” Poppy lit up, grabbing John Dory’s paw in her own to drag him from the mushroom pavilion. “Well, you’re asking the right Troll! I know everyone here!” She ran along, leaving John Dory little choice but to be dragged in her wake.

“Wait.” She came to an abrupt halt, “I don’t…” Her demeanor turned sheepish as she turned back to John Dory. “I don’t know anyone by the names of Spruce, Clay, Floyd, or Bitty B.” She admitted.

Well, that was a bust. John Dory shrugged. “‘S okay.” He nodded, stretching his arms up above his head. “I already know that Spruce isn’t here, and I know where Floyd is.” Something about Poppy’s words hit him, and he frowned. “You said Bitty B.” He pointed out. “But… would you happen to know a Troll who goes by Branch?” They had never used Bitty B’s full name in promotional material—he was just a baby, after all. It was safer that way.

“Branch…” Poppy’s face lit up with recognition. “I do!” She leapt up, “He never told me he had other brothers!” She gasped, “HE NEVER TOLD ME HE WAS IN BROZONE! Ohhh, I can’t believe this!” She ran in a tiny circle, tail waving wildly as she gestured with her paws.

“So you know where I can find him?” Oh, thank Troll. Now all John Dory needed was to find Bitty B’s pod, say hello to Grandma, and then they’d set out to find the rest. Easy.

Poppy nodded. “Yep!” She grabbed John Dory’s paw again. “It’s a few days’ travel by critterbug, though. Or just one day if I can get a caterbus…” Her tail flicked as she considered the options. John Dory swore he even heard her mutter about wormholes at one point.

“That’s… far.” John Dory frowned. He thought Bitty B would be living with the rest of the Pop Trolls, here in Trollstopia, not… wherever he was.

“I know the way, though.” Poppy assured him. “Just give me a little bit to get some things in order, and I can get you there!” Her tail curled behind her as she turned—

John Dory grabbed Poppy’s tail just below the hair. She froze, and he hurriedly let go. “No, wait, you said a few days by critterbug, right?” He laced his hands together and stretched his arms out in front of him, tail stretching behind him. “Rhonda could probably cover the same distance in an hour or two, tops.” Really, all he needed was the destination. He appreciated Poppy’s offer to come with, but, well—it was a family matter.

But Poppy kept following along as John Dory made his way back to his armadillo-bus. “Rhonda? Who’s that?”

John Dory picked up the pace. Poppy kept up easily.

“She must be really fast…” Poppy was theorizing, tapping her chin as she skipped along. “Oh! I bet she’s a bird, right? Birds can cover big distances fast!”

John Dory chuckled as he came to a stop. “Not quite.” He gestured to the armadillo-bus in question, patiently waiting in the underbrush. His most trusted companion, means of getting around, and beloved home: Rhonda.

Poppy squealed, bouncing over to Rhonda in excited delight. Her enthusiasm was infectious; John Dory couldn’t help the chuckle building in his throat as Rhonda greeted Poppy back with similar enthusiasm.

“Whoa!” John Dory called out, as Poppy made her way over to Rhonda’s door. “I appreciate the help, but you don’t need to come with.” It was a family matter, after all—

“Eh, I’ve been meaning to visit Branch again soon.” Poppy waved off. She paused. “But if you really don’t want me coming with—”

John Dory shrugged, and hopped up into Rhonda. “If you really want to.” He had the feeling he wouldn’t be able to stop Poppy, if she really put her mind to accompanying him. He’d only known her for half an hour at most, and she was already rocketing up his regard through her sheer energy and excitement. So John Dory shrugged, happy to have some company for once.

“Alright, Popster.” He sat down in the driver’s seat as Rhonda started to move, “Get me to Branch.”

+=+=+=+=+

Poppy’s enthusiasm, John Dory was finding, was infectious. Maybe it was the Pop Troll in him, maybe Poppy really did have so much energy that she couldn’t help spreading it everywhere—either way, John Dory couldn’t resist the amusement starting to dance in his chest as she took the wheel, going on and on about the adventures she had had with Branch. She had mostly focused on the Rockpocalypse, as that was where most of John Dory’s questions focused on—but even then she had a lot to say.

John Dory wondered how Poppy and Bitty B knew each other. They must be childhood friends, he figured, with how well they worked together in Poppy’s retelling. Maybe they were even closer—would John Dory find himself with a little sister in Poppy, someday? He sure hoped so—Poppy was a delight.

“So why’re you looking for Branch, anyway?” Poppy asked, as Rhonda made her way from the underbrush to a dirt path.

“Well, I’m looking for all my brothers,” John Dory began. “Because Floyd is in trouble.” He didn’t know if he should say more—he’d rather be telling all of this to Bitty B, if only so he wouldn’t have to tell the story more than needed.

“So you’re getting the band back together to rescue him?” Poppy asked, paw pressed to her face. “Aww, that’s so sweet! And exciting!” She smiled, big and bright. “I know I’m not really family, but if you need any help then you can count on me!”

John Dory chuckled. “Just helping me find Branch is more than enough.” He really wanted to show her the baby pictures—but Poppy was busy driving, directing Rhonda in following the trail as it shifted from dirt to cobbled stones. Rhonda jolted slightly at the terrain shift, but quickly adapted, following Poppy’s driving even as the surrounding forest thinned out to a yellowed field.

John Dory looked out the windshield, watching as the field gave way to an imposing metal fence, far too large to have been made by Trolls. There was something familiar about the looming structures, some distinct feeling of foreboding beginning to curdle in John Dory’s gut.

At once, recognition hit John Dory like a bucket of ice. “This is—this is Bergentown.” He nearly growled, his knuckles paling as he gripped the back of the seat. He leaned forwards to correct the course, or to demand to know what was going on—

“Yeah.” Poppy agreed, her voice firm and quiet. It was such a change from her sugary energy that John Dory hesitated, and she turned to him, expression gentle. “I guess I should have thought about how scary that’d be…” She shook her head. “But we made peace with the Bergens more than a year ago. And I promised I’d get you to Branch.” She urged Rhonda forwards, the armadillo-bus weaving around the streets under her direction. “I just need you to trust me for a little bit longer, okay?”

“I…” John Dory looked out the windshield, fighting down the urge to haul the young Troll from the driver’s seat and turn Rhonda around. He could see Bergens out and about on the streets, looking content—no, happy. That… John Dory’s intuition really didn’t like that. The last time he’d been here, it had been to find the tree withered and empty and the few Bergens he could spot looking absolutely miserable. It didn’t matter what Poppy said—if Bergens were walking around with uplifted spirits, then Trolls were clearly back on the menu.

But Poppy pulled Rhonda up to the central plaza with nary a care in the world, and none of the Bergens harassed or otherwise waylaid the armadillo-bus as she picked her way through the town. As Rhonda came to a halt in the grass, John Dory finally took in the state of what had been his home for the first twenty years of his life.

The cage was gone, and the tree looked even more colorful than John Dory remembered it. He could still see blackened bits on the trunk and branches, and some of the pods were as dull as last he’d seen them, but—

There were Trolls happily going about their business. As Poppy slipped out the side door, John Dory watched as the nearby Trolls noticed her, and started to rush over.

Slowly, goggles firmly over his eyes, John Dory exited Rhonda, keeping his back to her side as he shuffled as far away from the safety she represented as he dared. He could make out the conversation going on towards the base of the tree, and that was enough—if things got ugly, he could probably snag Poppy with his hair from here.

“Well, Branch did make his usual rounds this morning.” A green Troll with pink hair was saying, Poppy listening with rapt attention. “But he left a while ago.” They shrugged apologetically. “Sorry, I can’t tell you more than that.”

“Oh, no problems!” Poppy waved off. “Thanks for the help!” She bounced back over to John Dory and Rhonda, a pep in her step despite the fact that they were still in Bergentown. She slowed down as she came close, holding her paw to her face contemplatively.

“Hmmm, where would Branch be at this time of day? He’s got a pretty set schedule, but with his brother’s wedding coming up…” Her voice dissolved off into mutterings, but John Dory’s brain snagged on the words “brother” and “wedding” and everything after that failed to register.

“Wedding?” He grabbed Poppy by the shoulders. “Clay’s here, too?” He couldn’t possibly imagine Clay of all people getting married—but when he knew that Spruce was elsewhere and Floyd was being held captive, there was only one brother left.

Poppy’s face scrunched in confusion. “...Clay?” Her voice was void of any recognition, then she snapped her fingers. “Oh, right, you mean Brozone Clay!” She shook her head, already skipping off to Rhonda. “No, it’s not him—before you showed up, I didn’t even know that Branch had older brothers!”

John Dory followed Poppy back into Rhonda, his head spinning. “But you said brother?” He pushed his goggles back up, forehead creasing as he tried to work out what the hair Poppy meant.

“His younger brother, duh!” Poppy waved off, already directing Rhonda away from the tree. She said it so casually, like it wasn’t the most out-of-pocket statement John Dory had ever heard. And he was quickly approaching forty-three—he’d heard a lot of insane shit.

“Younger—” John Dory was right up next to the wheel, now, not even caring that Poppy was directing Rhonda down streets alongside Bergens like it was nothing. “Explain?” Mom and Dad were both out of the picture before Branch’s egg even hatched—how in the name of all that was Trolly would Branch ever have a younger brother? It made no sense.

“Well, Gristle and Branch are adoptive brothers,” Poppy clarified, “But that still counts! They pretty much grew up together, from what I know.” She brought Rhonda to a stop, completely oblivious to the fact that she had just brought John Dory’s world to a screeching halt. It hit John Dory like a sack of bricks, how long he had really been gone—Bitty B had found himself a family. Branch had found himself a family, and John Dory had no idea.

With a start, John Dory realized that Poppy had already exited Rhonda, the door flipping shut behind her and leaving him all alone. And while he certainly felt safe inside his dearest companion, John Dory didn’t fancy letting sweet young Poppy walk around Bergentown alone.

Yeah, that was it. That he was barrelling out of Rhonda to catch up with Poppy was purely over concerns about her safety, and not at all because he felt unsafe. Not at all.

Poppy had parked Rhonda near a nondescript… boutique? And had already slipped in through a Troll-sized cutout in the door proper. With a deep breath, John Dory pushed his goggles back down over his eyes, and followed.

Inside, he looked around—there! Poppy had made her way up onto a clothing rack, walking along a strip of metal wide enough for three Trolls. She was face to face with—John Dory stopped in his tracks, deciding to come up to the top of the rack through the clothes. He did not fancy being the subject of a Bergen’s attention! As he slowly made his way up, he caught the conversation Poppy was having with—with the Bergen—

Ohhhhh, John Dory did not like this, nor what it might imply about his baby brother.

“The wedding’s not for four more days.” The Bergen commented, as John Dory finally hauled himself up onto one of the clothing hangers. “Did Bridget need help with some last-minute planning?”

Okay, John Dory was officially lost. Just what had happened in the time he’d been gone? It had only been twelve years since he last came to Bergentown!

“Oh, no, nothing like that.” Poppy waved off. “I just wanted to visit Branch, that’s all.” Her tail flirted back and forth as she spoke, not an ounce of fear in her body despite how close she was to the Bergen’s massive teeth. John Dory only found himself growing more concerned about the safety of his people—was Poppy simply insane?

The Bergen chuckled, a low rumble that had John Dory discovering he could tense up even further. “I see.” She commented. “Well, I couldn’t say for sure where he is right now,” She held a massive claw up to her chin as she hummed contemplatively. “You know how he gets when he’s stressed; always finding more work to do and people to yell at.”

Poppy nodded, looking contemplative. “Well, thanks for the help anyway, Bernice.” She turned to where John Dory was balanced on a hanger, tail curled around the metal, but not before waving to the Bergen one last time. “See you at the wedding!”

The Bergen—Bernice? Bernice?—smiled, shaking her head. “Always nice to see you, Poppy!”

John Dory let Poppy take him by the paw and lead him out of the boutique and back to Rhonda. If his head was spinning before, it barely even felt attached now. Was this a fever dream? Oh, god, he must have taken a wrong turn on his way to Pop Village and crashed Rhonda, and all of this was just some weird coma dream his brain had come up with to torment him—

“Right!” Poppy was saying, as Rhonda got up and ready to move again. “We’ll check the castle next, I think—and if he’s not there, we start looking for King Gristle.” With that decided, she directed towards Rhonda towards the castle in question.

John Dory didn’t even have words with which to protest, at this point. With a resigned sigh, he watched as Poppy guided Rhonda up the steps of the castle. His nerves were shot, every fiber of his being frayed with anxiety, but there was no persuading Poppy to turn back. There was little he could do at this point but let Poppy lead him around, Rhonda coasting down the halls easily. John Dory’s thoughts turned inwards, following the same cycle of fear and self-loathing that he’d been avoiding for decades, and it kept coming back to one thought:

Just what had happened to Bitty B in his absence? Living in Bergentown? It had to—it had to have been something recent—Poppy had mentioned making peace with the Bergens, after all, and that must be when Bitty B took up residence in this wretched place, but—

But why? John Dory still wasn’t clear on how, exactly, peace could exist between Trolls and a species hellbent on eating them all. With the way the Bergens he had seen today carried themselves, there was no doubt in his mind that Trolls were on the menu—was it some kind of deal, some kind of willing sacrifice on the Trolls’ part in order to appease the Bergens? But that made no sense, who in their right minds would ever—

Rhonda came to a stop, and John Dory followed as Poppy disembarked. His goggles were still firmly over his eyes, and he had no intentions of removing them. So Bitty B had moved to Bergentown—overseeing the peace, maybe? Sacrificing himself in place of some other Troll?

John Dory shook his head as he followed Poppy in using his hair to launch himself up the wall. No, he refused to think about that. Poppy said Bitty B was okay, and John Dory had agreed to trust her. Maybe her definition of okay was different—

No. John Dory followed Poppy along what could only be described as a path along the wall, perfectly sized for Trolls to run along. He was not going to think about that. Floyd’s life was still on the line—John Dory could figure out what the hair was going on with Bergentown once he had all his brothers back.

Rhonda followed along as the pair made their way through the halls, seemingly unbothered by the occasional Bergen that passed through the halls. The Bergens in question all seemed to recognize Poppy, and she returned their greetings in kind.

Just as John Dory was sure he would implode—

“BRANCH!” Poppy took off along the pathway with a speed that made John Dory’s knees ache just watching, her tail whipping behind her as she bounded over to a Troll a short distance away. The Troll in question turned from the pair of half-sized Bergens he had been talking to, processed the pink blur that was barreling at him, and yelped as Poppy knocked him over with the force of her hug.

“Queen Poppy!” The Troll—Branch, John Dory realized, those blue eyes unmistakable—wheezed, prying himself from Poppy’s grasp. He hurriedly straightened his cape before bowing, silver crown glinting in the light. “I didn’t know you were visiting today.”

The Bergen with the gold crown and red cape smiled similarly. “Hey Poppy.”

Poppy turned to the Bergen and waved. “Hey Gristle! Good to see you!” She and the other Bergen launched into a much more energetic greeting, trading nicknames back and forth. But John Dory wasn’t paying attention to that anymore, pushing his goggles back up to fully drink in the sight of his baby brother. There he was, standing tall and proud, watching Poppy fondly…

A rush of pride crashed into John Dory’s chest. He rushed forwards, shoving his still-frayed nerves to the side. “BABY BRANCH!” His brother! His baby brother! Little Bitty B!

Branch yelped as John Dory scooped him up—or rather, as John Dory tried to scoop Branch up. “Ohhhhh you’ve grown—wow! Charlie horse!”

“Put me down!” Branch kicked and flailed until, gracelessly, the both of them tumbled to the floor. John Dory was slower to get up, joints creaking with the motion. Branch was already brushing off his cape and fussing with his crown, his face a mix between annoyance and something John Dory couldn’t decipher.

The crowned Bergen—Gristle, Poppy had called him—sidled over to look up towards Poppy. “Should I leave…?”

The other Bergen—Bridget? Was that what John Dory had heard her called? Why was he bothering to remember Bergen names—shook her head. “I wanna see where this goes, babe.”

“Who—” Branch backed away, face scrunching in what might have been recognition. “Oh. You.” Not the enthusiastic greeting John Dory imagined, but that didn’t stop him in the slightest.

“Branch, c’mon,” John Dory urged, “It’s me! John Dory! Your brother!” He stepped forwards, but Branch only narrowed his eyes and stepped back.

“Brother—” Gristle gasped, leaning forwards. Bridget had a hand over her mouth, eyes alight with curious excitement.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Branch sniffed, arms crossed. “I have a brother, and he’s right there.” He nodded his head towards Gristle, who nodded in satisfaction.

John Dory wanted to scream. The Bergen? The Bergen was Branch’s brother? Branch had—but—

“So you weren’t in Brozone?” Poppy asked, tail starting to droop.

“Of course he was!” John Dory interjected. Okay, so he’d been thrown for a solid loop, real funny. But he was on a mission, dammit! He turned his attention back onto Branch, “You were Bitty B!”

“Brozone?” Gristle asked, peering at Branch suspiciously.

Poppy gasped. “You don’t know about Brozone?” She bounced in place, flapping her paws. “Brozone was only the boyband, like, ever! Even now their music is super popular, and the band broke up before I was even born!” She turned her attention onto Branch, almost launching herself at him in her fervor. “Why didn’t you ever tell me that you were in BROZONE?!”

As Branch hurriedly tried to fend off Poppy’s excitement, Gristle and Bridget turned their attention onto Branch. “You were in a band?” Gristle asked, voice tinted with incredulity.

“I can kinda see it.” Bridget commented, squinting. “It would have been during your years in the Troll Tree, right? Before the Great Escape.” She leaned in a little further, brow drawn in contemplation. “You do kinda look like you’d be related to them.”

Everyone looked at Bridget in surprise. “What?” She shrugged. “I pay attention when Poppy and I share music and hot goss. She got ‘Baby Baby Girl’ stuck in my head for weeks.”

“I dunno,” Gristle interjected, turning his scrutiny to Branch. “Were you really in a band as a baby?”

“Barely.” Branch snorted. “It was only a few songs and one live show.” There was something bitter in his tone, some hidden accusation that flew over John Dory’s head entirely.

“So you were Bitty B!” Poppy confirmed, grabbing Branch by the shoulders. “Oh my Troll!! You can’t just—I can’t believe you never told me!”

“We’ve only known each other for a year…” Branch commented quietly. He turned to John Dory, back on the defensive. “Why are you even here? No, wait—” He pressed his paws to his temples with a groan. “You’re here because you need something, aren’t you?”

“I do need something.” John Dory nodded.

Branch groaned. “Of course you are.”

Unfazed, John Dory barreled on. “It’s about Floyd.” He continued, letting his words spill out. The letter, the trip into Mount Rageous, the state of their brother in that awful diamond prison—it all spilled out in a rush before John Dory was fully processing each word. The more he spoke, the less his nerves about being right next to a pair of Bergens ebbed away, until his mind was lost in the task set before him.

By the time he finished, Poppy’s expression was one of quiet horror, her paws over her mouth. Even Gristle and Bridget looked upset, and Branch—

Branch’s expression was unreadable, his paws clenching and unclenching rhythmically. There was something stormy in those blue eyes, some deep reminder of the years spent apart.

“And why do you need me?” Branch asked.

John Dory almost laughed. What a silly question! “If we’re gonna pull off the Perfect Family Harmony, we’ll need to get the whole band back together. And since Floyd is trapped in a diamond prison, the only way to save him is with the Perfect Family Harmony.” He frowned at Branch. “It’s not complicated, Bitty B.”

“Yeah!” Poppy added. “You’ll get to see your brothers again! Isn’t that wonderful?”

“Not a chance.”

John Dory stumbled back at Branch’s words. “What?” That… there must be something wrong with his ears. He must have misheard. There was no way that Bitty B would—

“You heard me.” Branch’s voice was eerily calm, almost detached.

A growl started to build in John Dory’s throat. “Bitty B—”

“Don’t call me that.” Branch snapped. He stepped forwards, “You leave me behind for more than two decades, without a single note, and then when you return you expect me to just act like nothing happened?” Branch’s voice rose in pitch with his incredulity, his paws gesturing wildly as he spoke. “I have a kingdom to help run, my brother’s wedding is in four days, and you want me to toss that all aside to go on an adventure for some Trolls I barely know?” He leaned forwards, teeth bared in a snarl. “Not. A. Chance.”

John Dory gasped, affronted. Yeah, okay, so he’d been gone a while. But he was back! And Floyd was in danger! What in the world was Branch thinking?

“He’s your brother!” Poppy protested, dragging Branch several paces down the path. “You of all people should get how important that is, Branch. I mean, if Cooper, the best little brother in the whole world—no offense, Gristle—”

“Some offense taken.” Gristle responded, though he was smiling.

“—was the one in danger, I would stop at nothing to help him. “ Poppy continued. “And I know you’d do the same for Gristle.”

“Poppy.” Branch held up a paw, putting a pause on her impassioned speech. “I see where you’re coming from. Really, I do. But…” He sighed, heavy and tired, dragging a paw down his face. “All of my brothers left when I was two. Not once, in the near twenty-three years that they’ve been gone, have I so much as received the slightest indication that they’re even alive.”

“But they’re here now…” Poppy started. “At least, John Dory is.”

Branch shook his head. “That’s not the point.” He said. “The point is that I don’t know them. They were in my life for the first two years and then they were gone.” He glanced past Poppy to where John Dory was trying not to watch too obviously, several paces away and close to the wall. “Twenty-three years, Poppy. Anyone can become a totally new person in less than half that.” He shrugged, turning his gaze away to a particularly interesting torch-holder across the hall. “I’m not risking my neck for a couple of strangers, Poppy. Not when there’s so much already on my plate.”

“But—” Poppy started, “They’re your brothers.”

“No, they’re not.” Branch’s voice rose as he spoke, and he breathed deeply, paws clenching and unclenching.

Poppy gasped. “That’s not how blood works, Branch!”

“Blood isn’t everything, Queen Poppy.” Branch murmured. He turned away fully, idly waving a paw as he spoke. “You and your… guest have full access to the castle, as usual. I have business to attend to in the Eastern Quarter.” And with that, he walked away, cape swinging slowly with each step.

John Dory stepped forwards, paws clenching into fists. “Branch—” He stopped, staring down at the bright pink paw thrown out in front of him.

“I’ll go talk to him.” Gristle sighed, turning to follow after Branch.

The two of them turned the corner, Gristle’s exasperated exclamation quickly fading as they went out of hearing range. John Dory watched the two of them go numbly, barely even aware of Poppy and Bridget talking to each other.

This was supposed to be so simple. Branch was supposed to be the easiest brother to find and pick up. Just go to Pop Village and find Bitty B. Simple. Easy. The perfect way to start the onerous task of bringing them all together for Floyd.

How had it gone so wrong?

+=+=+=+=+

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Branch picked up the pace, his shoulders hunching as he ignored Gristle’s question. Anger buzzed in his veins while new worries joined the constant flow of concerns in his mind, his paws clenching and unclenching as he walked towards the castle doors. Branch really did have business to attend to out in town; he hadn’t been lying about that. There was always something that needed to be done, as Prince of Bergentown.

“Hey!” And there was Branch’s big-little brother, matching pace with him easily. “I know you can hear me!”

Branch broke out into a run. Undignified? Yeah. Obvious? That too. But Branch didn’t care. He couldn’t let himself care—there were too many other things he needed to care and worry and think about, he didn’t have the time or energy for this—

“Are you…” Gristle panted, still keeping pace with Branch. “Are you just going to keep running? You’ll run out of castle, dude.”

Branch slowed down, if only so he could properly glare at his obnoxious big-little brother. “Shut up.” As far as retorts went, it wasn’t his best—but what else was he supposed to do? Pull a witty comment from his ass?

Gristle rolled his eyes. “Real clever.” The two of them came to a halt—there was no point in running around; Branch wasn’t going to shake Gristle. “But really, Branch, what’s going on with you?”

Branch crossed his arms. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He huffed, turning his head to the side.

Gristle sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Berg give me patience…” He muttered. Why was dealing with Branch in a mood always worse than trimming claws?

“When Dad died,” Gristle started, “When his body was falling apart from illness…” He had to pause, here, the memory heavy on his shoulders. “He was suffering, right there in front of me, and I was helpless to do anything about it.” His hands trembled, gaze firmly locked on the floor.

“Your point being?” Branch refused to be swayed by a sob story. He was as much a Bergen as a Troll, after all.

“It sucks to lose someone.” Gristle growled. “You know that as well as I do.”

“It sucks to lose someone close to you.” Branch snarled back. “Grandma was everything to me. Your Father was everything to you. But my former brothers are nothing to me.”

“Okay.” Gristle shrugged. He fixed Branch with a steady gaze. “But when your older brother dies on Mount Rageous, slowly and painfully…” He waved his hand dismissively, “I’d say I hope it doesn’t haunt you, but we both know it will.”

Branch’s shoulders hunched, his paws clenching and unclenching.

At Branch’s lack of response, Gristle cleared his throat. He walked over to the corner of the hall and pulled one of the colored cords, ringing a bell. A moment later, one of the serving staff—Hilda—arrived, bowing in greeting. “Your Majesty. Your Highness.”

Gristle spoke, “Inform Groth and Bernice that they have the remaining days before the wedding off. Paid leave.” Hilda nodded once and rushed off with her orders.

“What?” Branch’s eyes widened as he realized what his brother’s play was. “You did not just—”

“Branch.” Gristle’s voice was imploring. “You actually have the chance to help. To save your family.” Gristle clenched his hand into a fist, gaze resolute. “I’m not letting you waste this.”

“You—” Branch swallowed. His paws clenched and unclenched, and he wrested his gaze away from his big-little brother. After a long, drawn out moment, he threw his head back and sighed.

“I hate you so much.”

Gristle waved it off. “Yeah, yeah, love you too. Now go save your brother!”

+=+=+=+=+

John Dory stared at the album cover in his hands. He had always been more of a doer than a thinker—sitting around doing nothing only ever let in the thoughts he didn’t want, the thoughts that crept up his brain and haunted him for decades.

He, Rhonda, Poppy, and Bridget had moved to one of the castle’s two drawing rooms, the plush couches and craft-covered coffee table oddly Troll-like in design. Rhonda was curled up in Bridget’s lap—she’d taken a shine to the Bergen, which John Dory refused to acknowledge. Him and Poppy were both sitting atop Rhonda’s carapace, Poppy and Bridget talking about the upcoming wedding in a rapid-fire deluge of words that John Dory wasn’t processing.

Every inch of John Dory wanted to burst into action, to track down Bitty B and make him understand what was at stake here. But he didn’t feel ready to wander the castle halls alone with Rhonda, for all that Bridget had become less and less of an immediate threat in his mind.

“Okay, fine.” Branch’s voice cut through the room, and John Dory looked up to see his brother padding across the floor towards them. He launched himself onto the table with his hair. “Let’s go save Floyd.”

Branch had swapped the fur-lined cape for one made of a tougher fabric—well, no, this one was more of a cloak, actually, covering his shoulders fully. There were two clasps, one at his neck and one slightly lower—only the belled upper clasp was closed. Under the cloak, Branch had swapped his shirt for a leaf vest that John Dory vaguely recognized. It was an ensemble that screamed travel, even with the embroidered gray swirls lining the hem of the cloak.

The crown was still the same, though—same silver ring of leaves encircling Branch’s head. John Dory wondered if Bitty B ever parted with it. How long he had it.

Poppy was already moving, already on the table by the time John Dory was even standing. “I knew you’d come around! Oh, you’ll have to tell me all about it when you get back—”

Branch held up a paw. “Why would I do that? You’re coming with.” He said it so simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. And maybe it was, to him.

“Fine by me.” John Dory stretched before sliding down Rhonda’s side to her open door. Poppy had grown on him like moss on a stone—having her and her energy along would be great.

Poppy squealed. “Oh my hair! Yes! Yes yes yes!” She grabbed Branch’s wrist, yanking him over to Rhonda with ease. “Brozone 2.0! Brozone Reunion! Brozone, Here We Bro Again! Brozone, Where’d They Bro? I don’t know, WE’RE GONNA FIND THEM!”

“Have fun!” Bridget called out as Rhonda sped out the room. “Don’t die!”

John Dory grinned as Rhonda made her way down the castle steps. Finally, time to get this show on the road!

[aylacavebear]

She Thought She was Normal

Story Summary: Maria really thought she was normal, for most of her life. It was normal for people to have natural talent, she would tell herself the older she got. Many things came easy for her, and that was probably how their rivalry began when she was five and he was seven and she met the Winchesters. Little did either of them know that it wouldn't stay like that forever, both having a far larger destiny than they could imagine

Word Count: 2331

Please don't take my work. I'll post warnings for each chapter. May have future SMUT 18+!

Warnings: Angst, Fluff. Insinuation of SMUT.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 26 - A Reunion They Didn't See Coming

The woman Maria saw standing in the kitchen of the two-story home looked somewhat lonely. She’d been watching her for the last hour, invisible and undetectable.

The woman performed mundane tasks but seemed to only be going through the motions like her heart wasn’t in it. Maria took a deep breath and revealed herself, sitting at the table across from her.

“Please, don’t scream,” Maria asked her calmly.

The woman was startled and got out of her seat, taking a few steps backward, “Who… what are you?” she asked.

“It's a long story, but I can give you the short version and perhaps fill in the rest later,” Maria replied.

The woman took a deep breath and gingerly moved back to her seat, sitting across from her again, “Okay, I’ll bite,” something about her deep, dark blue eyes and jet-black hair seemed familiar.

Maria could tell she was a bit apprehensive and completely understood why, “I’m Maria, Maria Winter. William and Alarra’s daughter. I think you met me once when I was like two. A lot has happened since then. I wanted to ask you, do you want to come back?”

The woman stared at her, wide-eyed, and goosebumps ran down her body. She could tell that more than twenty years had passed, which meant that a lot had to have changed, “What would I be coming back to?” she asked. She needed at least something from her before she could fully decide.

“We’re all safe now, mostly. We have a home, and it’s amazing,” Maria told her, then smiled a little as she looked down at the table, “We’re hunters, but it’s different now. Azazel is dead, and we’re working on finding out what is manipulating our lives, and now we have the resources to do it.” Maria looked up at her, “Will you join us?”

She took a deep breath. Maria hadn’t given her much, but it was more than she thought she would, “Yes. I want to come back.”

Maria smiled happily as she stood up and walked over to her. She stood as well, and Maria could tell she was nervous, “Don’t be nervous. It might be a little weird initially, but it won’t last. I’ll help you, by sharing some memories with you once we get there. They’re all still asleep right now.”

The woman smiled a bit in anticipation as Maria took her hand, then snapped her fingers, and the two were in the war room of the bunker. 

“That was a bit, disorienting,” the woman told her, chuckling a little.

“Want some coffee?” Maria offered.

She chuckled, “Sure. It’s somewhere to start, at least.”

The two entered the kitchen and stopped dead in their tracks, seeing John sitting at the table. Maria had thought he’d still be asleep and glanced from the woman to John. He looked like he was looking at a ghost.

“I can explain, Uncle John,” Maria began, but John said nothing.

He closed the distance between him and the two of them, only focusing on the woman in disbelief until he reached out and touched her cheek, finding her quite real. Tears fell from his eyes as he cupped her face in his hands smiling, overjoyed. She smiled up at him and put her arms around him.

“I’m really here, John. Maria brought me back,” she told him softly.

“Mary…” he whispered before he kissed her.

Maria just smiled as she backed out of the kitchen. There would be plenty of time to catch her up on things later. She knew the two needed some privacy, even if the kitchen was a common area. Maria sat down at one of the tables in the library and created a cup of coffee for herself, smiling happily, and contently. She sipped it, thinking about how things would go once the other three woke up and they found out. It wasn’t like she had consulted any of them about this. She’d just done it. 

The thought had crossed her mind of bringing her parents back, but she knew they were together in heaven, their souls at peace. It wouldn’t have been fair to ask either of them, and she knew it; plus, it was riskier. She had suspicions about Mary’s soul being restless, even in heaven. Then there was John and her boys. Yeah, just over twenty years had passed, but none of them had stopped loving her.

A half-hour later, Dean ran into the war room and headed straight for the kitchen. Maria had barely seen him, “I’m in here,” she quickly told him before he’d made it to the hallway leading to the kitchen, which made him stop in his tracks and turn to her.

He put his hand on his heart like he had gotten scared as he took a deep breath, walking toward her. She tilted her head a bit, confused at his reaction, “I thought something happened to you. You weren’t there… when I woke up…” he told her, and she saw the fear in his eyes.

She quickly stood up and put her arms around him, attempting to comfort him, “I’m so-,” she stopped the apology, remembering what he’d said about kissing her and knew now wasn’t the time. “I had something I needed to do. I should have at least left you a note. I promise I’ll remember, if it happens again,” she told him softly.

Dean wrapped his arms around her, taking in her scent, feeling his racing heart finally start to slow down, “I’m just glad you’re okay,” he breathed, kissing the top of her head.

Mary and John had begun making their way into the war room at that moment. John stopped, though, and smiled, seeing his son with her. Mary smiled as well. He pulled her a little closer. The two parents enjoyed seeing the love between their son and the woman he loved. One can’t describe it in words, but it brought a sense of peace to their hearts.

“Dean, there's someone I want you to meet,” Maria whispered, biting her lip as she looked up at him.

He looked down at her, a little puzzled, and Maria turned to the war room, seeing her and John standing there. Dean still had that puzzled look as he turned in the direction she was facing, and he, too, thought he was seeing a ghost.

“Mom…” he breathed in a whisper.

John had at least filled her in a bit over the last half hour or so. Mary smiled and nodded, meeting her son in the middle of the war room before the two hugged. Maria just smiled happily. She did notice John mouth the words “Thank you” to her from across the room, and she nodded in acknowledgment. She could also see the glistening of unshed tears in John’s eyes as he looked back at his wife. There were tears of joy that Maria could see fight to fall from Dean’s eyes, but he tried to stop them, missing a couple. 

That was when Sam and Jess entered the war room, with Sam stopping dead in his tracks. He had been six months old when his mother had been killed and only had pictures of her; otherwise, he never would have known what she looked like. Now, there she was, hugging Dean. Jess kept walking, but when she felt that Sam wasn’t walking with her due to them still holding hands, she also stopped, turning to him. 

“What’s wrong, Sam?” she asked, puzzled.

Dean and Mary stopped hugging as the two looked at them, as did Maria and John. Sam was speechless, more emotions swimming through his expression than he wanted. Mary went over and hugged Sam, which he did return. Then she hugged Jess, having heard about her from John.

Bobby eventually joined all of them a half hour later. They were all sitting in the library, Maria keeping their coffees full while they caught Mary up on what had happened over the last twenty years. Bobby had the same reaction as if he was looking at a ghost. He was apprehensive, just as the others had been, but he was assured that she was quite real. Maria filled him in on what she’d done, although she had left out the why of it.

There was laughter, a lot of laughter, and when they got hungry, Maria made breakfast appear in front of them all. She’d practiced as much with her powers as possible, using every opportunity available. John, of course, sat next to Mary, wanting to keep at least one hand on her, like she was going to disappear or something. They shared their past with her, and she shared her dreams that she had had for them when she was alive. Those would change now, with all that had already changed. Mary found Jess to be absolutely adorable. 

Maria felt something strange and began looking around the room. She couldn’t see anything, and the feeling felt as though it was distant, still a ways away from where they all were. It was somewhat unsettling to her, though. She knew that her going to heaven and retrieving Mary Winchester wouldn’t have gone unnoticed by the angels. 

Maria took a slow, deep breath before finally speaking up, “Okay, so you guys aren’t gonna like this,” she began, looking around at them.

“What's going on kid?” Bobby asked her.

“Uh… well… By bringing Mary back, I might have set off some alarms in heaven. Sooo…. I uh, I need to make it so that we’re all undetectable by the angels,” she explained.

They looked at her, slightly puzzled, “And what does that entail?” Sam asked.

Maria pursed her lips for a moment, looking down at her coffee cup, “Branding your ribs in an Enochian warding spell,” she mumbled. She’d read about it in that book of hers a few days ago; she just hadn’t brought it up yet.

“Is it gonna hurt?” Jess asked, wondering.

“Probably,” she sighed quietly.

Dean gently squeezed her leg, just above her knee, as he looked over at her, “If we can survive monsters, a little rib branding is nothing,” he told her with a soft smile, trying to comfort her.

The others thought over what Maria said, but Mary spoke, “Let’s get it done then. I’ll go first.”

That, and what Dean said, at least brought a small smile to Maria’s face. She got up and walked over to Mary, who stood from her seat. Mary softly smiled as Maria placed her hand over her chest. It hurt, but only for the few seconds it took to brand her ribs. Maria also added the anti-possession tattoo on her shoulder, the same place John and Bobby had theirs. Of course, the guys weren’t gonna let Mary show them up. They all stood, as did Jess, making Maria chuckle a little. Maria closed her eyes, and that white/blue light showed a little on their chests as she branded the rest of them and herself. 

“OWE!” Dean groaned, holding his chest momentarily, as did the others.

Maria gave them all an apologetic look, but at least it was done now. It was nearly lunch, and Dean considered a shot of whiskey after that but decided against it. 

“I want to give you some information, from the present, like how to use a computer,” Maria told Mary with a soft smile.

Mary smiled at her and gave her a reaffirming smile. Maria touched her first two fingers on her forehead, giving her knowledge of the now so she wouldn’t feel so out of time. Little did any of them know that at that moment there was a very angry man sitting in front of a computer screen, cussing up a storm now. Or that there was a very curious angel in Lebanon, Kansas, trying to figure out what was going on with the town and why there hadn’t been any crime. The phenomenon was also spreading, already reaching the towns closest to Lebanon. 

The rest of the day was spent with all of them together. They had a lot to catch up on. Well, catch Mary up on at least. She hadn’t wanted to raise her boys to be hunters, but she was so proud of how they had turned out, the men they’d grown into. John gave Mary a tour after lunch, holding her hand. That was when both Dean and Sam hugged Maria at the same time. She was a bit surprised at first, then giggled when they sandwiched her between them.

“We can’t thank you enough, Sis,” Sam told her, overjoyed, but his tone was soft and quiet.

“It felt like something that needed to be done. I don’t know how to explain it, but uh… you’re welcome,” she replied, “Getting hard to breathe, though,” she added, giggling a little as the two of them squeezed her a little tighter.

The brothers chuckled a little as Sam let her go, but Dean didn’t. He cupped her cheek in his hand and kissed her lovingly, letting that action tell her just how much it meant to him. She wrapped her arms around his back, holding him close and kissing him back. Maria could feel everything Dean couldn’t convey in words through the kiss he gave her, and she smiled a bit against his lips.

Maria created dinner for them that night and even clothes for Mary that she would be comfortable in, which appeared in John’s room in the dresser and closet. They all had drinks, Maria sticking to only a couple of beers. This time, Bobby and the kids retired early, leaving Mary and John to have the library and the rest of the bunker to themselves. Although, once Dean closed his bedroom door, with Maria already inside, he quickly closed the distance between them, kissing her deeply, passionately, intimately, wanting to show her just how much what she had done meant to him.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 27

Tag List: @deans-spinster-witch @kazsrm67

Link to the master list for this story.

[thethistlegirlwrites]

Loyalties

Sierra stops outside the derelict building, looking up at its crumbling facade. 

She’s burned a lot of bridges, called in a lot of favors, and in the end, gotten an incredible stroke of luck, to get here.

She doesn’t have time to wait for the backup she’s called.

She guns the engine and the car jolts up the single step, then crashes through the front door in a shower of shattering glass, crumbling brick, and splintering wood. She keeps it moving until the doors clear the debris, then jumps out, flinging a garlic gas grenade in either direction and clearing the room in wide sweeps before heading toward the stairs.

Okay, so she’s being a little dramatic. But the element of surprise, and the fact that she wasn’t entirely sure this wasn’t a trap, is worth it. If she’d just walked in the doors, she’d have been worried about being ambushed.

Sometimes the only way to avoid that scenario is to cause it yourself.

Now she’s the one who comes off as desperate and determined. Which is absolutely true. She’s not sure that will have any effect on the vampire she’s coming for, but at the very least, it might make the playing field seem a little more level. 

The second floor is empty, very clearly so. Sierra spends minimal time clearing it, before heading for the staircase and climbing to the third floor. The glass cuts and aches from her less than textbook entry are starting to make themselves known as the adrenaline tapers off. She wishes it would last a little longer. She’s still got a vampire to fight.

She kicks open the rusty lock on the third floor door and comes face to face with her nightmare.

Shay is standing near the middle of the room, stiff and statue-like, and there’s the faintest outline of someone else behind him, using his body as a barrier.

Sierra lowers the gun slightly. 

“I’m Sierra Stoker with the Chimera Agency. It’s over. Let him go. There’s a whole team of hunters on their way.” 

“He told me about you.” The voice echoes, and not just off the scraps of manufacturing machinery left in this dump. Shay’s voice is coming out in time with the vampire woman’s. It’s not even close to the first time Sierra’s seen a sire take over their victim, but it’s a whole new kind of awful when the fledgling is someone she’s known for years. When it’s painfully obvious how not-himself he is right now.

Is this what it felt like when Tio had to face Emma? There’s always been a horror in Uncle John’s voice when he tells that story that goes beyond the shock of seeing his former colleague and teammate turned, and nearly having his throat ripped out before she wrestled control of herself back from Arion. 

“I thought you might come for him yourself. He’s a fun little plaything, isn’t he?” The vamp continues. “Unfortunately for you, I found him first.” 

Sierra can’t let it get to her. There’s too much on the line. “Let him go now, and maybe I’ll consider letting you live long enough for a trial.” 

“You want me dead, but I don’t think you’ll kill him to get it.”

She wouldn’t have to kill him. Sierra’s done this before, but with a human hostage, at Amarillo. To get to the vampire who had her teammate, she’d clipped his leg, dropping him like a stone and giving her a clear line of fire.

She could try it now, but this vamp is expecting it. The only way Sierra gets a chance at taking her down is to lower her defenses. Force her hand, then take advantage of whatever mistake she makes.

“What kind of life is he going to have with you?” She asks. Still playing the game, but hopefully, lowering the vamp’s estimation of her cunning.

“He’s mine now, little hunter. My fledgling, mine to play with until I tire of him.” The vampire’s head appears for a fraction of a second as she trails a line of kisses down Shay’s neck, and Sierra shudders. 

He’s been missing for three days. What has she already done to him?

He’s not wearing the same clothes he’d left in. Sierra knows that's a ridiculous detail to latch onto, but she also remembers that he was going to work the door at the Luna.

It might have been a simple case of wanting to remove the claim of another coven. But Sierra knows, bone deep, that’s not all it was. 

“You can’t control him like this all the time. The longer you use your sire’s influence, the more capable he’ll be of finding a way to fight it. He’s learned from a vampire who did. She locked out a member of the first circle. He can push you out. He’ll keep fighting you until he finds a way to get you out of his head.”

“Oh, after today, I won’t need to fight him.” The vampire laughs. “I’m going to make him kill you. I’m going to make him watch you die. And then he’s going to drink your blood. He will crave the oblivion of my control after that. The humans will never stop hunting him for killing you. His only safety will be with me.” 

Sierra’s sparred with Shay so many times every movement of his is muscle memory. But somehow, it’s still a shock when in one fluid motion he’s snatched a jagged chunk of metal from the side of a half-dismantled machine, covered the distance of the room, and driven it into her side.

Because it’s not his movements. It’s his sire’s.

It’s also the opportunity she needs.

She has one shot at this.

She ignores every instinct screaming at her to pull back, and throws herself forward, metal digging into her side, arm swinging over Shay’s shoulder for a clear shot at the laughing vamp behind him.

In the split second it takes for the bullet to reach her, the woman’s face shifts from glee to shock.

Good. I want you to know you failed.

(This is actually a companion story in Sierra's POV to a Whumptober series I wrote last fall! You can read that series on my WorldAnvil here, and today's fic here!)

@catwingsathena @nade2308 @the-one-and-only-valkyrie @telltaleclerk @ettawritesnstudies  @writeouswriter

[trashbag-baby666]

Man Flu-Buck/Bucky

Summary: Bucky has the flu…again but Buck is there to make it better.

WC: 1,195

C/W: Mentions of throwing up and naked body’s.

MOTA Masterlist!

Buck was sitting at his desk working on his homework. Bucky was curled up in his bed mindlessly scrolling on his phone. The sound of Bucky's mouth breathing filled the room.

He hadn’t felt good all day and he made sure everyone knew that. Buckys was always vocal about his feelings and he tended to come down with man flu.

Buck jumped slightly as he heard Bucky let out his loud sneezes. They always came in threes and they could wake the dead.

“Woah there,” Buck turned in the office chair. Bucky was sitting himself up as he grabbed a handful of tissues.

“I hate not being able to breathe,” Bucky groaned as he felt his stomach begin to ache again.

Buck sighed as he stood up from his desk and walked over holding a hand to the other's forehead, “John you’re burning up, this is probably more than just the cold you say it is.”

“I don’t know,” Bucky swallowed as he rolled out of the bed fast dashing to the attached bathroom. Buck stood back up from the bed as he heard the sounds of Bucky's vomit hitting the water.

“Sh, it’s okay.” Buck sighed, rubbing his back as he sat on his knees next to Bucky. The brunette rested his head against the cold tiled wall. He felt absolutely disgusting, his breath hot and slimy. The taste of vomit still on his mouth as he pushed his curls from his forehead, “I’m going to go get you some water okay?”

Bucky only nodded before he felt the saliva rush to his mouth again and threw up into the toilet. He hadn’t felt good for two days now, today seemingly its at its worst. Anything he consumed that wasn’t water he couldn’t keep down. He had been sent home early from school and waited patiently for Buck to come home.

Bucky wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as he tried to pull himself up with the counter but his legs ached. He’d been having body aches all day and sweating but shivering.

Buck came back with the water and saw Bucky with his back pressed up against the vanity he had a fistfull of the light blue rug.

“Feeling a little bit better?” Buck got on his knees as he cradled Bucky's face gently.

“Don’t breathe my air,” Bucky mumbled as he tried to duck away from Buck.

“Doesn’t matter,” Buck sighed as he held the cup up to Bucky's lips and helped him take a few sips, “I think you should take a shower, it’ll clear your sinuses. Might make you feel better too.”

“Can’t get up,” Bucky whined, “Everything hurts.”

Buck was familiar with Bucky and his man flu but this time. This was genuine and he could tell his Bucky was in pain. “I’ll shower with you then.”

He watched Bucky's cheeks heat up red and a small smile pricked on him.

Buck smiled to himself as he sat Bucky back up against the vanity and closed his bedroom door and then the bathroom door. He turned on the water in the shower, closing the sliding glass door. Buck tugged off his shirt then undid his belt kicking his khakis off to the side.

“Geez, at least take a guy on a date first.” Bucky smiled, his voice hoarse and barely audible.

“Maybe when you’re feeling better,” Buck smiled as he began taking Bucky's arms out of the sleeves of his sweatshirt. He pulled off his shirt and Bucky giggled as he poked his side causing him to laugh.

“Stop,” Bucky snickered, slapping Bucks hand away. Buck shook his head with a smile.

“Can you get your own pants off?” Buck asked as he pulled the fluffy socks off of him tossing them to the side with the puked on sweatshirt and shirt.

Bucky nodded as he hooked his hands onto the waistband and tugged them off with his boxers.

Buck had to remind himself that now was not the time to be hot and bothered by Bucky's cock.

“I’m so cold,”

“Just give me a second,” Buck stood back up, sliding off his briefs and getting two clean towels out from the shelf and hanging them up.

Bucky was in his own state of a fever dream, he felt like he was looking at an angel.

The way Buck's hair darkens as it gets wet,his blue eyes stare down into his. He basically drags him onto the floor of the shower and propped him up against the wall. He wanted to make out with Buck but he couldn’t get him sick, he had perfect attendance.

Buck sat down next to Bucky on the floor of the shower. Both of them had their legs scrunched up, “Are you comfortable, John?”

“Jus’ fine, Gale.”

“Hush,” Buck chuckled as he pumped some shampoo into his hand and gently began to massage it into Buck's hair. It had been a few days since Bucky's last shower, he would come home from school and sleep until he had to go again.

Buck grabbed the detachable shower head and pulled Bucky between his legs.

“Tilt your head back for me, sweety.”

Buck gently rinsed the shampoo from his hair then repeated with the conditioner.

Bucky struggled brushing his teeth without gagging but after they got his body washed. Buck dried himself before drying Bucky and leaving him in the warm bathroom while he got dressed and got Bucky some clean clothes. He ended up pulling off the sheets and putting clean bedding on messily then rushing back to the bathroom.

Bucky was sitting on the toilet lid, his head leaned against the wall, his brown grown out curls stuck to his face.

“Still warm?” Buck asked, feeling bad for taking a moment.

“Plenty,” Bucky took the red flannel pants and Boxers from Buck.

“Good,” Buck watched him to make sure he didn’t fall or get sick again.

Once bucky finished changing Buck took no time before he picked him up giving him a piggyback ride to bed. “Thanks,” Bucky smiled as he snuggled into the clean sheets and comforter.

“For sure, I put your dirty clothes into the washer.” Buck set the glass of water on Bucky's night stand.

“Will you nap with me?” Bucky stuck out his bottom lip and put on his puppy eyes. Buck so badly wanted to say yes and sleep till the morning pressed into Buck. But at the same time Buck had a big test to study for and he didn’t wanna get sick.

“I’d love to, but I gotta study and I’m gonna sleep in a spare room.” Buck frowned, “I’ll lay with you till you fall asleep though, roll over and let me be the big spoon since Curt isn’t here.

Bucky chuckled as he turned over onto his other side, excited to just feel Bucks' warmth on him. Buck took no time turning off the light and laying down next to him.

It took moments of Buck laying down next to him before he was conked out open mouth snoring.

Buck smiled to himself and kissed the top of Bucky's head.