#Leaving the state mid October too so that leaves me w/ even less time

[drowsyfiish]

my green trench coat is being stolen for a Halloween costume and I still don’t even know what the flip in gonna be ????

[athingthatwantsvirginia]

Eardrum Torture

PART THIRTEEN OF THE DO YOU SEE HER FACE? SERIES

Pairing: Jess Mariano x Original Character (Ella Stevens)

Warnings: mentions of a broken arm, lots of unintentional angst but here we are it just happened, plentiful pop culture references

Word Count: 4.4K

Summary: Application season takes its toll on Ella.

Four days. She had four days left until the applications were due, and she was about ready to rip out her hair. A Wednesday evening brought with it October wind and thick clouds. Though she had the night off, she sat wringing her hands over a scattered pile of papers at a corner table in the diner. It had been danish day, Luke rushing around to accommodate the breakfast and afternoon crowds, and the restaurant was equally packed at dinner. Ella raked her hands through her messy hair, tying it up in a ponytail and blowing loose strands from her eyes. Her nails were bitten down and she had dark circles under her eyes. The only solace was her knowing the torture would soon end. Envelopes were addressed, the stamps were bought, the essays were written, but she couldn’t manage to feel as though the applications were finished.

In all honesty, she knew there was no real reason for all the nerves. It wasn’t as though any of the colleges she was applying to were her dream schools. Financial aid could do some help, but it was simply fruitless to spend application fees on Berkley when she knew she would never be able to go anyway. Instead, the state schools and community colleges which made up her list were modest and affordable. And her father and Fiona were glad to have her able to live at home. No one would have to pick up her chores, and they could save for the wedding.

And she couldn’t bring herself to be angry with them. Disappointment was there, but she knew it was simply realistic. They couldn’t pay for the schools, and they didn’t want her to be buried in debt for the rest of her life. She could appreciate that, especially when she was likely to end up with a degree in something she wasn’t particularly passionate about. What could one do with an art degree anyway? She would settle for something stable, in business or economics, instead of starving for her hopeless dreams. Blowing out a breath, she tried to wake herself up by widening her eyes as she picked up an essay about a significant person in her life to read over for the third time. She’d actually had to write it twice, considering how illegible her cursive was in the first draft.

Rapping his knuckles on the table, Jess sat down across from her with a smirk and a plate in his hand. “Sweepin’ those chimneys nonstop, huh?”

Ella rolled her eyes. “Bite me.”

“You’re gonna give yourself a headache,” he said, holding the plate with the turkey sandwich out before her. It was nearly closing, and she still hadn’t ordered any dinner. He took the liberty of making something for her. Lately, she’d been forgetting to eat altogether.

“Well, we all have to make sacrifices sometimes,” she muttered flatly.

“Look,” Jess sighed, “just take a break for a second, alright? I’ll read it for you if you want.”

She cleared her throat in annoyance, then finally tossed a glance his way. Before she could help it, her stomach growled at the sight of the sandwich. Classic turkey was her favorite. Jess smirked, but said nothing. Ella narrowed her eyes at him and stared him down for a moment, then finally relented. They did a quick exchange, Jess with her paper and Ella with the ceramic plate.

“Thank you,” she said tiredly.

A smug smile painted his face as he began reading the essay. “You’re welcome, Stevens.”

As she ate, he read, brows furrowed in concentration. His face was indecipherable, and her stomach rolled with anxiety at him looking over her work. The sandwich was gone almost instantly, and she hadn’t realized how hungry she was. Luke was making preparations for closing as the last few customers finished up their dinners. The last pot of coffee was empty, and the twinkling lights in the square illuminated the dim evening in a cozy whitish-yellow glow. She licked mayo from her thumb and wiped her mouth with a napkin, finished eating, just as Jess turned the paper over and set it back down on the table.

“So?” she asked, arms crossed over her t-shirt and an expectant look on her face.

Jess nodded. “It’s really good, Eleanor. I like it. Very descriptive. I can tell you’ve got a James Joyce obsession.”

She laughed in spite of herself. “Shut up, jackass.”

“But, really, I love it,” Jess said.

“Thank you,” she said humbly, averting her gaze with a shy blush still present.

“Did she really know June Carter Cash?” he asked.

A wide smile crossed Ella’s face. The essay, though monumentally stressful to finish, had been a joy to write. Instead of offering a more melancholy tale about her mother, she’d chosen her grandmother. Whose necklace she wore, who she had a framed photo of on her desk, and who taught her how to persevere. Though she had died before Ella was ten, the woman was still so present in her memory. Her mother had been a tender rose, but her grandmother had been a giant sunflower, standing tall. A force of nature.

“Yeah. They sang at the same club a couple times. My grandma’s stories could give Miss Patty’s a run for their money.”

“High standards to meet.”

“That they are,” she said fondly, taking the essay and straightening a stack of papers in front of her. Then, she looked back up at him with a teasing eye. In spite of herself, she picked up the essay and began skimming it again. “Aren’t you on the clock? Slacking off, are we, Mariano?”

He scoffed. “Luke let me off early, Caesar’s helping close. Time off for good behavior.”

“Not likely,” she teased, snorting a laugh, then brought her fist to cover her mouth as a yawn overtook her.

Jess felt a pang of sympathy, watching her regain her composure and blink back a watery shine from her reddish eyes. She looked positively exhausted, and he hadn’t seen her without a pencil or an essay in her hand in what felt like forever. Even when she was behind the counter at the diner; Luke was being especially lenient for application season.  

“You wanna hang out upstairs? I think there’s some Alfred Hitchcock on tonight.”

She only raised an eyebrow, gesturing down to her applications and other schoolwork.

“How many days do you have left?”

“Four.”

“And you have them all finished?”

“More or less.”

“And you can’t take a break from rereading to hang out with your boyfriend for one night?”

Ella paused for a moment, and a teasing smirk crossed her face. “Boyfriend?”

He cleared his throat and a blush crept up his neck, but he maintained the confident facade, smirking back. “Oh, am I not your boyfriend?”

She shrugged. “I guess. Just didn’t know you’d fully committed to the label.”

“Oh, I’m committed.”

“Oh. Okay,” she smiled lightly, the dimple showing in her freckled cheek. “And I’m your girlfriend?”

“I figured. Was I wrong?”

“No. No, you weren’t.”

“Good,” he said shortly, and felt a little squirmy under her teasing gaze. “Now, are we gonna go watch some ‘50s murders or not?”

Ella snorted a laugh at his embarrassment. She looked down at the stack of work doubtfully, then sighed. It was too tempting to resist. Then, she stood up and began clearing up her things.

.   .   .

Mid-way through Psycho, Jess noticed Ella’s continuous yawning and the way she struggled to keep her hazel gaze on the grayish screen. He could hear Luke closing up down in the diner, and Caesar’s music droning from the radio. But it was cozy, the October night closing in and bringing silence to the chilly town streets. There was an old quilt spread out over their laps, their hands laced together. She cleared her throat and straightened up slightly, trying to look more awake as the onscreen hunt for Marion Crane intensified. Jess sighed and took his hand from hers. Putting an arm around her, he brought her head to his shoulder and she leaned into him tiredly.

“Oh, I see, you’re doing that thing where you put your arm around me, and then you sneeze and try to grab-”

“Am not,” Jess interjected, laughing. “I should’ve never let you in on my moves.”

Ella giggled. “Right, your move.”

“Maybe I invented it. You could never be sure.”

She scoffed, smiling, and shifted to get more comfortable. He pressed a kiss to her hair and leaned back into the old couch. Even still, he looked down at her bitten nails and frowned.

“You’re gonna get into those schools, y’know,” he said softly.

Ella sighed. “Yeah, I guess there’s a good chance. I don’t want to count on anything.”

“Stevens, you have a four-point-oh. They’re lucky you’re even considering them.”

“And I’m lucky they’re cheap.”

Jess ran a hand over his mouth, nodding. “I bet you could still get a scholarship to Berkeley somehow. Or some school in some other city. I mean, you don’t have to do anything you don’t wanna do.”

Sleepily, she nodded. “I know, Jess. But I’ll get to live in a city someday. I’ve lived in that house for seventeen years. I can manage a couple more.”

“You could still apply, though. If you wanted,” he said.

Again, she sighed. “Really, Jess, I’m okay not applying to Berkley. I knew I’d never be able to go, it was just some stupid dream I had when Lane and Rory and I were kids and thinking about which colleges we would end up at.”

“And what rebellious kids you were,” he smirked.

Ella nudged him with an elbow. “Whatever. Southern Connecticut State is good enough for now. I’ll get some bullshit degree and a decent job, so I can have money and time to really work on my art. Someday.”

Jess hummed in acknowledgement.

“Besides, I don’t wanna leave Adam alone. My dad may be getting better, but it’s not gonna be perfect there overnight,” she explained, ending with a yawn again, behind her hand.

At that, Jess dropped the subject. He knew she needed sleep, and bringing her little brother into it would lead to a whole other conversation. Besides, it wasn’t his place to say what she should do with her life, no matter how hard it was to watch her settle, like she’d already had to do so many times.

“Okay,” he said quietly, running a hand up and down her arm.

Then, after a pause, her husky voice piped up again: “And next year you’re just gonna keep working here? And Walmart?”

“I suppose.”

“You know you’re gonna have to tell Luke about that at some point, right?”

“Well, I’m holding out as long as I can.”

She snorted a laugh. “Good luck with that.”

“Hey, you’re still sworn to secrecy,” he warned playfully.

“Yes. Cross my heart, remember?” she asked, and he nodded. Looking up to see his face in the low light, she pursed her lips. “What would you do, Jess? If you weren’t Walmart’s best employee. If you could do anything you wanted?”

There was a long silence as he thought, and she almost figured he hadn’t heard her. But then, he cast his eyes down, the movie momentarily forgotten.

“I don’t know. Maybe...write something.”

“Something?”

“Yeah. A novel. Short stories. Something. Or find some job where I could just read all day. Either one would work.”

A smile crossed her lips, turning the idea over and over in her mind. “Hm. I could see it. ‘A novel by Jess Mariano.’”

He only shrugged.

“No, really, Jess, that’d be awesome. You should do it,” she said, brightening, sitting up a little and gaining passion as she spoke, gesturing with her nail-bitten hands.

He scoffed, brows furrowing. “On what? That brand new computer I own?”

She rolled her eyes, then lowered her head back down to his shoulder. “I don’t know. You’re too smart for your own good, Mariano. I’m sure you could find a way. I just think it’d be great. If I’m owning my narrative, you have to own yours.”

Shaking his head at both her stubbornness and the memory of her spontaneous trip to New York, he kissed the crown of her head again. “Maybe.”

“Okay, chatty Kathy,” she said, scoffing at his nonchalance.

Within minutes, she had fallen asleep on his shoulder, leaving Jess to watch the reveal of Norman Bates’s mother and think on his incredibly ambiguous future.

.   .   .

Sunday afternoon customers flooded the diner. For once, Jess had broken a sweat serving them, a towel flung over his shoulder and an apron around his hips. Luke barked out directives as Caesar kept the grill sizzling, pancakes and bacon and patty melts, even as the afternoon crept in. Trudging around, Jess’s boots were heavy on his feet. Ella had the day off, and she hadn’t made an appearance. Usually, he would take breaks to flirt with her, trade her a book or two, as she poured over her homework. Instead, a random, loud family occupied her corner.

Eventually, he saw her blonde figure rushing down past the front window. Her cheeks were flushed scarlet as she came inside, her bag heavy on her shoulder. Luke only nodded and grunted at her, and she responded with an almost identical greeting. It became clearer to Jess every day why Luke and Ella had such a benevolent boss-employee dynamic. He held the steaming coffee pot in his hand as he came over to her. She hung the heavy shoulder bag and tattered peacoat by the door.

“Hey, your usual table isn’t open but if you wanna wait at the counter-”

“Can I borrow some angry music?” she interjected, a crease between her brows.

“What?”

She huffed and spoke with her hands. “I wanted to listen to some angry music but I only have sad shit, and I wanted to borrow some from Lane, but she wasn’t at her house, so I came over here because you have all that punk upstairs.”

“Um...yeah,” he said, throwing a glance back at the staircase. “It’s kinda swamped here but if you wanna go use the boombox upstairs?”

“Yeah, okay, thanks,” she nodded, breathless from her rant. Ella gave him a quick peck and, in a moment, was bounding up the stairs.

He stepped back slightly in surprise, eyes lingering on the checkered curtain she had disappeared behind. On a normal day, she would never kiss him on the lips in the middle of the busy diner. But on a normal day, her eyes weren’t so stormy.

.   .   .

Finally, mercifully, Luke let Jess take a thirty-minute break. The Distillers were turned up to head-splitting level as he entered the apartment, though they could only barely hear it downstairs under the customers’ chatter. Ella sat with one leg crossed over the other at the kitchen table, her sketchbook in front of her. She shaded a drawing furiously, not looking up as he came in. Sighing slightly, brows furrowed, he went over and turned the volume down halfway. Still, Ella gave no response. Crossing his arms over his chest, he came over beside her to regard the drawing.

Jess scoffed as he glanced down at the page. The dark lines and shading clouded the drawing of a screaming woman. Wilting flowers surrounding the face, and there was fire drawn in the figure’s pupils.

“Jesus. You draw some scary shit when you’re upset.”

“I’m not upset,” she said shortly, not meeting his gaze.

“Y’know there’s a reason you’re an artist not an actress, right?” he drawled.

Ella rolled her eyes, stuffing her sketchbook into her bag and gathering herself up. Blowing out a long breath, she made to brush past him. “I’ll call you later.”

“Hey, where’s the fire?” he asked, his voice earnest as he placed a hand on her arm to stop her. “What’s the matter, Stevens?”

“Nothing.”

“Really? Then what’s with the eardrum torture?”

Swallowing dryly, she scowled at him but said nothing.

“C’mon, what’s the problem?”

Sighing again through her nose, she shrugged off his hand. “Just back off, Jess, for fuck’s sake.”

Without another word, she stormed down the stairs and left him confused. He stood with his eyes dark, hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans, the bass vibrations of the music thudding in his chest.

.   .   .

A dusky, golden October evening fell on Stars Hollow. Jess debated just staying in after his shift ended, brooding over the Bronte book Ella had loaned him, eventually falling asleep with furious thoughts cycling through his mind. Instead, he donned his leather jacket and turned down the Gilmores’ street. The gravel crunched under his shoes and he felt his heartbeat speed up as he neared the familiar house. Tall trees lined the sides of the road, and the crisp wind rustled the orangey leaves, falling around him and in his hair. He sighed heavily, taking a crunchy leaf from the top of his head and crushed it in his hand. In all the time he’d known Ella, he’d only seen her quite so angry a couple of times. Usually, it was just a bite in her voice and the sharpness of her tongue. Storming out was a move Jess expected far more from himself than from her.

He knocked on the front door, nerves building in his stomach. And his expression dropped just a touch when it was Lorelai who came to the door, slightly out of breath and less than thrilled to see him.

“Hi,” he began lamely, glancing behind her and trying to listen for other voices. “Is Eleanor here?”

Breathing out a short sigh, Lorelai put her hands on her hips. “No.”

“...do you know where she is?” Jess asked.

“She’s at the charity book sale at the high school with Rory and Lane,” she said, after a moment of debate over just slamming the door shut in his face. And, before he could run off, she added: “And I wouldn’t go find her.”

“Why not?”

Lorelai looked down at her shoes, crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the doorframe. “Look, Bender, I know you fancy yourself her knight in shining leather-”

“Hey-”

She raised a hand to stop him, and continued with a tense tone in her voice. “But she went through a lot before you ever got here. She’s still going through a lot now. And she doesn’t need you butting in and complicating all her complications.”

“I just wanted to know what’s wrong,” he explained defensively, mirroring her guarded stance.

“And it’s not my place to let you know. She’ll tell you when she’s ready,” Lorelai said. “She broke her arm during a dance at Miss Patty’s when she was ten. And do you know how long it took for her to tell anyone how much it hurt?”

He shook his head.

“Five days. Her arm was practically a purple tree trunk by the time they got her to the hospital! And that may’ve been an extreme case, but the point stands,” she said, straightening up and softening her face just a touch. “I think I’ve only seen her cry twice in ten years. She likes to work things out on her own. And she’s just got some communication issues, like someone else I know.”

She gave Jess a pointed look and he averted his gaze self-consciously.

“I bet Ella’s told you she doesn’t believe in love.”

Sighing heavily, Jess nodded.

“But we both know that’s not true. She’s cleaned my rain gutters every week for the past few years, just because I don’t like heights. When Rory had the chickenpox, Ella came here everyday after school with a new card or drawing, and stayed over until it got dark out. She always sneaks Lane her new contraband music through this weird window dumbwaiter system they made years ago. When Miss Patty needs a piano player, Ella fills in without pay, no complaints.”

Running a hand over his mouth anxiously, he nodded again. It was times like these when his heart ached for Ella, knowing how both similar and different they were from each other. He dealt with things through anger and trouble, and she dealt with things through guilt and silence. Neither method was healthy, but Ella’s was far less outwardly destructive.

“Jess, when Ella loves someone, she loves them completely. She trusts them completely,” Lorelai continued, eyebrows raised at the young hellion. “She’ll live and die for them. But it takes her years to get there. You have to be patient.”

“Alright.”

“And if you hurt her, so help me God-”

“I know. You’ll string me up in town square to set an example?” he interjected, waving a dismissive hand.

“Something along those lines.”

“Noted. Well, I gotta go,” he said, making to leave. Lorelai only hummed in acknowledgement. Before he stepped off the porch, Jess turned back over his shoulder and muttered out a “Thanks.”

In response, Lorelai gave a tiny smile, and disappeared back into the house.

.   .   .

His collar was up against the wind, and Jess had to try three times to light his cigarette. The diner was closed up, lights off. Bluish smoke formed hazy clouds in front of him, obscuring his view of the nearly-deserted town square. The twinkle lights were shining, and a few stray cars rolled past him every now and them, their red brake lights glowing in the darkness. Everyone seemed to be in bed already, at half past nine, in preparation for the week ahead. It made him sad, thinking of how vibrant New York was at this time of night. He wondered what his mother was doing, which boyfriend she was with. And then he scoffed at himself and let her leave his mind, crushing his cigarette out beneath the toe of his boot on the sidewalk. Looking up, he saw Orion’s belt in the autumn sky. He was homesick for the first time in recent memory.

“Hey, tough guy. Thought you kicked the habit?” he heard, and looked over to find Ella, coming from the direction of Lane’s house, arms crossed to keep herself warm.

He laughed humorlessly. “The addictive personality comes and goes.”

She sighed, leaned against the front window of Luke’s next to him. Keeping a careful distance, she tried and failed to catch his eye. He looked ahead, watching as an RV, presumably a family of tourists, rolled by on the other side of the square.

“I’m sorry,” she said, running a hand through her blonde waves. Goosebumps formed on her legs beneath her tights. Darkness had brought a harsh breeze. “I didn’t mean to freak out like that.”

“Mm,” Jess hummed, still not meeting her gaze.

Ella sighed through her nose, looking down at her disintegrating converse. “I just got in a fight with Fiona. She keeps wanting me to call her mom, so we scream at each other, and she cries so I’m the one who ends up apologizing. And then she said she and my dad are trying for another kid.”

His eyebrows shot up, and he finally turned his head to her.

Clearing her throat, she shot a bitter smirk his way. “I know. When they’re doing so well with the ones they already have, right? Anyway...I left the house and I didn’t know what to do. So, when you saw me earlier, I was just completely in my own head and...I was angry at you for nothing. And you don’t deserve that. I’ve been so stressed and caught up lately. And I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he said, voice husky. And he took her cold hand in his. She closed her eyes and felt her breath catch in her throat for a moment. Swallowing down her feelings, she took a step closer to him. She hadn’t expected such easy forgiveness.

“No, it’s not okay. And you don’t have to say it is. I’m just new at this whole thing. I’m not used to...talking about anything, really, let alone everything. Most of the time, even Rory and Lane don’t know too much about what’s going on with me.”

“I know. That’s okay, honey,” he repeated, and she finally let a weak smile across her lips. Jess smiled a small smile back, and hoped she could know what he meant in so few words. As he saw her shoulders relax and surprise shine in her hazel eyes, Lorelai’s words remained in the back of his mind. Patience. He could do that. He could wait. Especially when he’d waited for her so long already.

“Thanks. For…”

“Don’t mention it,” he cut in, bringing an arm around her shoulders and pulling her in to plant a kiss on the top of her head.

“Really, Jess. I don’t think you realize how nice you are,” she doubled down, looking him straight in the eye.

He scoffed and rolled his eyes at the compliment, brushing it off.

Ella rolled her eyes back at his secret bashfulness and kissed him on the lips. The air was cold, but a warmth began in her stomach and spread throughout her upon feeling his touch. She stood on her tiptoes and he brought a hand to one of her hips. A moment passed between them, but  thought popped suddenly into Ella’s head and she pulled away from him.

“Hold on,” she said, turning around to rummage in her bag. Eventually, she pulled out a book with yellowed pages and a black and white cover. As she held it out to him, Jess recognized the face on the front. On Writing by Stephen King.

Raising a hesitant eyebrow, he took it and immediately turned it over to read the back.

“I know it’s Stephen King, but I saw it at the charity thing today and if you’re gonna write the great American novel— which you are—I figured you could use a little advice from one of the professionals.”

“Huh,” he chirped, his voice with a surprised lilt.

She smirked. “Trust me. Rory told me lots of her favorite authors swear by it. And since you guys both have similarly questionable tastes...”

Jess shot her a teasing glare.

“I was going to give it to you for your birthday in a few days, but you let me borrow your angry music and be a jackass to you today. I decided to make it an early present. On your actual birthday, I’ll give you something by an author you don’t despise.”

He chuckled a little and turned to her, smiling more genuinely than she expected. Bringing his arms back around her waist, he pulled her in for a tight hug and she could hear a muffled “Thank you” through the kisses he pressed to her cheek.

[chiefnooniensingh]

I Won’t Hesitate (for you) Chapter 10

Chapter 10: I can’t keep it all together

In this chapter: In the past, Isobel Bracken-Evans finds something that changes her life forever. In the present, time is running out and Alex is stuck. Michael is more and more honest, but is he as trustworthy as he seems?

A/n: A little shorter than usual perhaps, but we're hurtling towards the end here. Anyone have any idea yet?

As always, a special thanks to Aileen (@acomebackstory), Callie (@callieramics), @hm-arn, @royalshadowhunter, @ladymajavader and May (@merlinss) over on Tumblr for their continued support and cheerleading. I don’t know if I would’ve finished it without you guys! 

So @Lire_Casander guessed both last week's title and the one the week before that. Chapter 7 was called You should give me a chance (this can't be the end), which is one of the most heartbreaking lines of the song Still in love with you by the Scorpions, and I always imagine Malex while singing it. I even made a gifset of it. Chapter 8 was called Come Back (I still need you) which is from Hold on by Chord Overstreet.

Can anyone guess this week's?

also on: ao3

other chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9

June, 1934

Isobel Evans-Bracken was clearing out the attic of their new house. They’d been living there for well over a year, yet the attic had filled up with their stuff fairly quickly, as stuff was wont to do. Old reports cards and art projects Mrs Evans had kept, and Isobel had never had the heart to throw away; pictures of her and her brothers before she and Max were adopted; toys from when she was little – okay, so maybe it was mostly her stuff. Her husband wasn’t a sentimental man, he barely had anything from his youth. Isobel knew precious little about that time in his life because it was very painful for him to talk about. She knew he fled a colonized, war-riddled country after the Great War and had a hard time adjusting to the States. But the circumstances that caused him to leave, the hardships of living in and not being accepted in a new, strange country, those details he had never shared with anyone.

She loved and trusted him anyway. If he ever wanted to share those details in time, she would be there to listen.

In the back Isobel found some boxes she didn’t recognize. There was no name scribbled on the sides and she couldn’t even remember these being part of the many, many boxes the movers took upstairs for storage. Odd. She pulled one towards her and opened it, curiosity getting the better of her, as it often did.

“Izzy? Are you home?”

“I’m upstairs, darling!” Isobel called down as she took out several yellowed newspaper clippings. They were all connected to a 15-year-old cold case, a little girl who was murdered in Roswell, New Mexico. Isobel sorted through them, going from the first “Ortecho Family Drama Unfolds” clipping, to the discovery of the body two weeks later. Why was Noah keeping these?

“What are you doing in the attic?” Noah’s voice was coming closer, climbing the stairs towards her.

“Oh, just sorting through some of my stuff,” she said absentmindedly as she flipped through the newspapers. “You know, old memories and – ” She broke off mid-sentence as she came to the date of the arrest of the one and only viable suspect. A picture was next to the short report of the arrest and the young man, whose identity was not known at the time. She knew it though.

It was Noah.

He was about 20 in this picture, and since it was 1920, the timeline matched roughly with him fleeing his country. He looked younger, thinner and harder. But Isobel recognized him immediately.

“Old memories?” Noah’s voice was now almost at the attic door and Isobel jerked out of her stupor. She stuffed the newspapers back in the box and pushed them to the side, grabbing some art projects from a nearby pile, just in time before the attic door opened and Noah came in, smiling. She held up her projects, working hard to bring a smile on her face and not giving anything away.

They spend the rest of the afternoon looking at her projects and old pictures and Isobel, having learned from early childhood to lie through her teeth, pretended nothing was wrong.

The next day, after Noah had gone to work, she went back to the attic and took out the box again. Now with more time she spread the newspaper clippings out before her and examining them more closely. Now she saw Noah’s tiny handwriting in the margins. If before she could pretend this was just her husband’s weird hobby, after reading some of his notes, she couldn’t deny the truth any longer.

His note under the news of the discovery of Rosa’s body was especially damning. Weren’t supposed to find her this soon. Cover tracks immediately.

Isobel let out a single, shocked sob.

The note by the news that Jim Valenti had killed herself made her blood run cold. Good riddance.

Her husband had killed Rosa Ortecho and had gotten away with it.

She had married a murderer.

Present day, 22nd of October, 1935

“No one gets off this train without being accompanied by me or the staff from the other carriages, is that clear?” Alex stood in front of the train door, having arrived just in time to stop people from swarming onto the platform for one last breath of fresh air before the final leg of the journey. Every face he saw was mutinous, but Alex couldn’t risk anyone escaping. Kyle was locked up for now, but the mystery was by no means solved. Someone else still could’ve committed the crime, could still be planning to run.

“Can I at least get out?” His father appeared beside the other travellers, his nose still very noticeably broken, a front tooth missing. Alex felt a savage pleasure at seeing the tables turned.

Alex shrugged. “I could literally not give any less of a fuck what you do with your time.”

Despite the hard feelings towards him, the other passengers sniggered, which made Jesse Manes turn red. He shouldered passed Alex and disembarked the train, letting in a blast of cold air. But it was clear they’d cleared the Alps; the cold wasn’t as biting as it had been. Michael stepped up, looking sheepish. Alex knew why; he was feeling it, too. They were each other’s something, which made this entire situation all the more complicated. They didn’t know how to act around each other. “I need to call Jack, tell him we’ve arrived at Lausanne.”

“Yes, alright. I’ll have to accompany you,” Alex said, opening the door and allowing Michael to get out ahead of him.

“Well, if you must,” Michael said, with a mock tone of exasperation. Alex followed him to the phone booth on the platform, then sat down on a bench a few feet away, taking out his notebook and going over it all for what felt like the eight thousandth time. He knew most of it by heart now, but that didn’t mean it made the mystery any clearer.

He was still immersed when Michael sat down next to him. “Jack says the Compagnie is not pleased by our delay. I told him to tell them to ‘stuff it’. I’m not sure he will.”

Alex snorted, looking up from his notebook and straight into Michael’s eyes. They were twinkling lightly, as if a murderer had never ruined this trip beyond repair. “You always did have a way with words.”

“I try.”

Alex shook his head with a smile and looked back down to his notebook. “I don’t think I can figure it out, Michael,” he said after a minute silence. Michael looked up, his eyes filled with sympathy. “Literally anyone could’ve done this. Sure, there are several people with motive. Kyle, Max, Isobel – ”

“ – me,” added Michael, with a half-smile. At Alex’s shocked expression. “Come on, Alex, you know you can’t deny it. I have as much motive as Max has. I love Isobel. I don’t know if the allegations of abuse were true, but you know I would never have waited to find out if those rumours reached me.”

“Yes, but I know you – ”

“You saying I’m not capable of murder?”

“No, I’m saying you wouldn’t have the patience to wait around and plan a perfect murder. You’re impulsive and rash and emotional and if someone hurts someone you love, you don’t wait to get retribution. You find it immediately.”

Michael choked out a surprised laugh. “Well, you’re not wrong. I’m surprised you still know so much about me.”

Alex brushed his hand against Michael’s, only briefly, but enough for the familiar rush of warmth go through him. “I don’t think I ever could’ve forgotten about you.”

Michael grabbed Alex’s hand and pressed a swift kiss to the back of it. “You’re a foolish romantic, Alexander Manes.”

“I know. Always been my problem.”

The two of them looked at each other, before Michael tore his eyes away. “So what are you going to do when we get to Paris?”

“I don’t know. I have to give the police something. There was a murder on this train. I can’t show up empty-handed after three days spent with all the suspects.”

“Tell me your thoughts,” Michael said, sitting up straight and giving him his undivided attention.

Alex blinked, surprised. “Okay,” he said, then opened his book. “Noah Bracken, 35, murdered in a locked room. Stab wounds to the chest. No stab wound is identical. It’s like the person stabbing him tried to make it look like different people did it.” Michael straightened further, giving Alex a nod to continue. “Isobel is the most obvious suspect, since she was in the room. But there’s nothing else that points to her, and if it’s true she took Barbital, she was physically incapable of waking up. Max Evans lied about being her brother and was seen fighting with Noah just a few weeks before the murder, possibly about Isobel. You brought on board the murder weapon – which you stole from my house fifteen years ago, I might add – and turned out to be Isobel’s other brother. Kyle has the strongest motive, seeing as his father killed himself in the wake of the Ortecho case. But he supposedly has an alibi, provided by Maria, whose alibi was first her mother and then Kyle, which makes her a very shaky character witness. Mr Otto tried to run, his daughter’s alibi has him sleeping. However, she was apparently also talking to Max Evans. The murder was committed at 4:30, not 3, a fact Kyle knew and decided to conceal, along with his true identity…” He trailed off, sighing deeply. “I’m at a loss. I don’t know what to tell the police. I can’t give them anything.”

“Would that be so bad?” Michael said softly, and Alex looked at him startled. “Noah Bracken was a terrible person, a murderer. Would it be so bad to, I don’t know, let his murderer get away with it?”

Alex rested his head against the station walls behind him and let out a long sigh. “I don’t know if I can. I’ve always had a very clear moral code. And no matter what crimes a person committed, they should always get a fair trial. Murder is not an excuse for murder.” He looked at Michael with a sad smile. “I’m a murderer, too, you know.” Michael looked back at him, shocked, and Alex swallowed. He’d never told anyone about this particular dark place of his psyche, but he pressed on. “I murdered dozens of faceless men on the battlefield. I am a murderer. And I got away with it. Because it was in service of my country. That…injustice to my victims will never go away. But I can try and give other victims justice. That’s why I became a private investigator after I was injured. To make up for the murders I got away with.”

“Oh, Alex…” Michael began, but then jumped up as the train whistle blew. “Jesus, we have to leave! Get on the train, quickly!”

They ran inside and only just jumped on when the train lurched into motion. Out of breath, the two men leaned against the train wall, both chuckling. “You know, Alex,” Michael said, turning his head to look at him with a smile, “I think you’re closer than you think you are. You have all the puzzle pieces, I’m sure of it. Now you just gotta find how they fit together.”

He closed the distance between them and pressed a light kiss to Alex’s lips, before sauntering off in the direction of his cabin. Alex stayed behind, biting his lower lip pensively, his thoughts whirling.

Most of his thoughts were devoted to the question that was driving him insane; was Michael guilty or not? He tried his hardest to push it to the background, because he didn’t know the answer and it wasn’t helping. He still had almost a day before they would arrive in Paris and he needed to figure it out before then.

Even if Noah Bracken was an absolute monster, he deserved justice. Just like Rosa Ortecho had deserved justice.

Alex looked at himself in the reflection of a window. He scoffed when he realized the truth in his eyes; this hadn’t been about justice for quite a while now. It was a mixture of pride and protectiveness. Alex protected those he loved, and even ten years apart hadn’t stopped him loving Michael.

He wanted to solve this case to prove that he could. He wanted to solve this case to clear Michael’s name. Preferably, the solution would lead to both outcomes.

Worrying his bottom lip with his teeth, he went over to the Bracken’s cabin, which had been locked after Isobel had been moved into Miss Otto’s cabin for the remainder of the journey. He took out Michael’s keys and opened it. The body had been moved to the freezer in the kitchens for preservation, but the rest of the cabin remained untouched. Alex turned to look at the inside of the door, inspecting it closely, hoping to find any clue. A handprint. A hair. Anything that would help Alex in his search for the murderer. Not even the lock was picked, there were no scratches or signs of damage on it whatsoever.

It meant the killer had either had a key or had left through the window.

That information helped exactly no one, because those had always been the only two options of this murder, shy of Isobel having murdered her husband herself, which Alex still didn’t think the most likely of options. He straightened up and looked around the cabin. He crouched down, realized his leg wouldn’t allow it and sat down completely instead, changing his perspective. He closed his eyes and tried to imagine a scenario.

It was evening, Mr and Mrs Bracken had just returned to their cabin, exhausted after a long day of travelling. “Darling, can you give me the Barbital, please?” Isobel asked. Noah handed the bottle to her without speaking. He changed into his pyjamas and got into bed, while Isobel rummaged some more. “I ordered some tea,” Isobel said, arranging her pillows.

“That is excellent, my sweet,” Noah said, already half asleep.

There was a heavy knocking on the door and the door opened to reveal Michael, who was holding a tea tray. “Here you go, Mrs Bracken,” Michael said, his eyes flickering to Mr Bracken, who threw him a dirty look for having woken him up. “A good night to you both,” Michael continued, seemingly unbothered. With a nod and a smile at Isobel, he left.

Isobel poured out the tea and handed a cup to her husband. They drank in silence, before Isobel dropped a kiss to Noah’s cheek and went to bed herself. Noah dropped off to sleep almost immediately, but Isobel stared at the ceiling for a good long while.

Alex opened his eyes, wondering how close to the truth this scenario was. Was this when Noah Bracken had been sedated? Had Isobel put the Barbital in his tea? Or had Michael done that? He looked around the cabin again, trying to reset the scenario. He settled his back against the door and tried to get comfortable for a few rundowns of possible scenarios.

He was going to be here a while.

[luna-lime]

2017

Recently, when I was doing a Christmas clean-up, I came across my old essay from elementary school titled "What does happiness mean to me?". I immediately threw it into the trash, because I just felt really awkward reading my 12 year old essay about happiness. But I read just a little bit, to know what  my 12 year old considered as happiness. And no shock to me, it were people. Because people in my life were the happiness since I was able to walk, talk and communicate. And thinking back to this, even if I am turning 20 in a question of weeks, this haven't changed. I wanted to write something similar, but then I realized, that it wouldn't fit the context. So that is why, I named it 2017. I wanted to write what this meant to me, because there were a lot of changes this year and I haven't addressed them almost at all. So sit back, take a hot coco or tea and give a chance to a reading, just a chance to a girl who wants to change the world.

I remember 2017 starting really, roughly because I was still in high school (golden times I tell ya) , really close to my writing final exam. So naturally, as I always do, I was stressing. And I thought to myself  "Oh my god, can something be harder than graduating?";  not realizing that there was definitely harder things than this. But at this time in a rage from January till the beginning of June, my life was going around my graduation. I needed to finish the school so I could get to the university I wanted to. I had to finish with great mark from English ( just in case you didn't already realized, I did ). I remember those last days with my classmates who I... Let's say, I adored them. We had our fair share of arguments sometimes, but other than that, they were very lovable. And understood me in many ways ( and people who know me for some time, know that sometimes it's difficult to understand me ). Last day of school was like a dream that I was dreaming of since I came to the school. I was imagining the last day with my classmate throughout the year, every morning while walking to the school from the bus stop. But now, it really was the end of everything and I couldn't rewind the time back. It was the beginning of summer, my longest summer in my whole life. I was just sleeping in because I felt like it. I was working out every evening, because I felt like it. I was going out with my friends, because I felt like it. And I had so many time in my hands all of sudden, that I didn't even realize that. Somewhere between slacking and eating, I was accepted to the university I wanted to go to, so I couldn't be more happy in my life. Goals which I always wanted to achieve. But there was much more happiness awaiting.

My first nephew was born in summer, it took four days for him to come to the world. But I can tell you, he was the cutest baby ever. If there is love at first sight, it was with him because I adore him since the very first moment I saw him. But I wasn't spending much time with him because of some issues surrounding him. But today, right now, I can say he grew so much to my heart, that I swear to keep him safe even if it takes my life. I couldn't imagine having nephews or nieces, but it wasn't any different than it was before. I just got a another title to my name this year.

Also in summer I visited my friend V ( I am just gonna use the first letters of names, so I still keep them safe, but if they will read this, they will know that I am talking about them ). I haven't been to Prague for almost two years, generally in Czech republic. And still, Prague never fails to put a spell on me, because I truly love that city. Me and V, know each other for some time. And I know, she isn't a kind of girl who easily expresses her feelings, but she did tell me she loves me. And it meant so much for me, because hearing from her very rare. She introduced me to new people, who are without a doubt so amazing that I loved them already. Very carrying, very nice and I hope to meet them all very soon. But back to V. She cared for me, she gave me her keys to her apartments ( which was like WOW she believes me ). And despite the fact, we not always agree with each other, we had our fights, she didn't gave me less love than ever. We talked a lot, I was with her a lot and I never had her for myself like this time. And I want to just say thank you V. Thank you for being here, even if we don't talk on daily basis. I wish you all the luck in life and I hope, you will keep safe. You will enjoy the love you get and 100% deserve. I wish I could do better just like you. And never let people bring you down, never let go of your dreams. Even if you girls didn't win, in my heart you are the winners. You are my winner V. Never forget that, never forget the fact that for me, you will be No.1 if there is no one left. Our "love" changed through the years we know each other, but I am feeling that it changed just for the better. Only thing that I want to ask of you, is for you to never forget me V. Never ever in your life.

In Prague I met my others friends too, most notable N and Y ; with whom I spent great time together. Let's start with Y who took care of me so good, that I can't express my thank enough. We also know each other for some time and I am glad, that I run into you. Or more like bump, but same difference. She made the whole day legit the best one I had in Prague. She made me try a new kitchen ( now thinking of it, I feel how my throat is burning :) ). She took me to a Hawaii-styled bar and we drank cocktails together. And didn't run of themes to talk about, but for me, the most important fact was that I was with her. Because I haven't seen her in a long time and I just wanted to enjoy her presence. Even if I was whinny and missed my mom, when I was with her, I just totally forgot and went on with my life. Most notable memory is when we were in a big toy shop, just looking for a present for my nephew. We didn't find anything, but we played for sure a lot. I bought her a child crown with her name. And while I was paying, I took out my card and needed to put in my pin code and she just casually asked: "What's your pin code?" and the lady who was working behind the counter said: "But you shouldn't tell these kinds of things." and I was just like "I will tell you outside." I actually told her and the lady just gave us really weird looks while we left. "She must think now, that we are lesbians." Y said and I just shook my head like whatever, let her think what she wants. I just believe her enough to share such information with her. The next day we met with N and we went sightseeing. It lasted like 10 minutes for us  to enjoy sightseeing. Then we just sat down on a bench and talked for like two hours. It took us more time to leave the park than looking at its beauty. Then we went eating to her job, we had some delicious Korean food. Y stuffed us like roasted turkeys on thanksgiving. But saying goodbye to both of them, at the bus at night, was really hard. I cried my way up to the door of the apartment I was sleeping over in. What can I say more? N and Y are and became the very part of my life and made my Prague visit memorable a lot. Thank you for all you have done, all you will do and for being in my life.

I came home and I just went on with my life for the rest of the summer, even September. I started going to UNI on the 25th of September. And it wasn't easy at all. I was going through these emotional rollercoaster feelings until mid October I guess. My eyes were very expecting, but it wasn't at all what I imagined. Remember the part about my graduation and the fact that I thought it was hard? This.was.a.another.level.of.hard. But I couldn't go back now, could I? This was the moment when I just started thinking back, telling myself, that probably I'd like to graduate once again. To be home with my mom, dad, brothers, sisters-in-law... But I wasn't. And I had to accept the fact, that for the next 5 years ( let's hope it will be five years ), my life won't be as it was before. But also I got a push, I got a chance to start over, to do something I didn't before, to try new things and know new people. To be a little responsible for myself, to know how to cope with situations and find myself out. I am not stating, that I mastered all of it till today, but I might proudly say, that I am on my way.

I felt a burden, something heaving on myself. The weight of my own mind. Of my own sorrow, sadness. Why was I doing this to myself? I don't know, it just went and gone. I missed my mom every day, I missed my bed, my bathroom, my kitchen... Hell, I even missed my high school, what I really hated from the bottom of my heart. But now it all seemed well and what I needed.

I wasn't alone... I had W, B, K and T to keep me accompany. Am I thankful? More than I can be. I am sorry to be mean sometimes, not being good enough, but without you I'd be lost. You give me the feeling of being needed, being loved and having someone to rely on. You don't realize how important you are to me. And I always tell you, I will always tell you. We are finally  together, something we all wished ever since we got to know each other. And even if sometimes, you feel bad about yourselves, you are not.

But now, let's get to the most important part of this post. Things I would like to tell myself. I don't know how I will look at this next year, but this time, what I write is important and I feel like it.

Dear me,

I have never done something similar, but I know people do this, so why not give it a try? This year you became a graduate, an aunt, university student. You've got titles enough for few years. But other than titles, you got new ideas and points of views on the world. You can't change the world, but you can change the world around you. Because kindness is the way and you know it. Teaching others to be kind is hard, but I am sure one day, those close to you will understand it. Also the fact you want to accept yourself as a human being is incredible. You should have started long ago, but it's okay that you did now. Most important is that you did. And never forget to say thank you, to your parents for raising you as they did. Never forget to say thank you to your mom, for giving you the most precious. Life. Never forget to thank your father, for giving you the brain, so you could do what you love. Never fail to say thank you to your siblings, because even if they are not the same blood, you are their sister and they take your equal. Never forget to say thank you to your whole family, for giving you the best they can. To your cousins, for always taking care of you. And never forget to say thank you, to yourself, because it is who is surviving and fighting, while the mind wants its own.

I made it kind of short, but I don't know what more to write to myself. General writing is easier for me.

Last but not least, we are human. We hurt, we cry and we recover. But we should never be alone. And I want all of you know, all of you, my friends, my family even strangers, there is always a way. Suicide isn't the answer, it isn't the solution. Maybe you think, but it isn't, it hurts more people than help. So I want all of you to change the thinking of your mind. You never bother, there is always at least one person you can trust and rely on, even in the hardest time. And a day like today, marking it as the day of death of one of the biggest sunshine in the Korean world, I want to bring awareness to mental health. Never underestimate it, because mind can destroy a person more than anything.

Please, be thankful. Please be kind. Please, say please when needed. And I want to ask you, just go tell someone a compliment. Like their pictures. Make up. Because the years isn't over. Say the things you are afraid to say normally, now. Because you might regret not saying anything in the future. I want you, who read this, to spread love. To spread awareness of mental health. To spread the message of self-love and self-respect. To spread kindness. To make this world a better place for us to live in.

We this year, closed so many chapters. Opened up new one. Healed old wounds. Because we are open-minded. My friends, from Czech republic. You know who I am talking to now, I am so thankful that you are here. The part of us, giving us a chance to come into your world and you taking our invitation to ours. Let's hope to live out together more memories from cons.

And to my friends and family, at last,

please be careful, don't hurt yourselves and love each other.

Because you all are my present. You are the true definition of "What happiness means to me."

[dmitri-smerdyakov]

Across Oceans (Part 3/Final Part) - a Newt/Tina and Jacob/Queenie fic

Tagging: @pinkdiamonddolphin

Story set in: mid/late October to early November in 1940

Phoenix – 22nd June 1931 – 9 (going on 10) Linnet – 13th January 1933 - 7 (nearly 8) Leo – 3rd March 1935 – 5 (going on 6)

(Miracle baby not born yet – Tina’s still in her early-stages of pregnancy!)

Tobias “Toby” – 15th October 1929 – 11 Daisy – 7th April 1931 – 9 (going on 10) Abel and Ruth (twins) – 20th November 1933 – 6/7 Elijah “Eli” – 28th January 1939 – 1 (nearly 2)

Jacob had decided to take the children to visit the new house a week or so later; Queenie had stayed behind with Eli to finalise some things with Tina (and, admittedly, to have one of their now-often ‘ladies chats’), and so he had walked with their four eldest children down the road to the new house in order to take a look around. It was also worth hearing what the kids thought as well, he and Queenie had decided, to see if they were agreeable about living there.

The new house was far bigger than the apartment in New York, of course – all of the children could only look around in awe when they had entered, absolutely stunned and amazed.

“So…what do you guys think?”

They looked at Jacob briefly before turning back to examine the house; Toby was the first to speak, putting a hand on Abel’s shoulder. “It’s…big. Really big.”

“Are we going to live here, Papa?” Daisy asked, eyes fixed on the stairs; they hadn’t had floors in their apartment, just rooms, and it was strange to think that this could be their home.

Jacob was grinning, amused by their reactions. “Yeah – not yet, we still got some things to fix first, but once that’s done…this place is ours.”

Abel’s mouth fell open; Ruth frowned. “What about our home, Papa? What about the apartment?”

Their father was silent for a moment, smile fading rapidly – but Abel’s eyes widened. “We’re not going home.”

“Well…”

“What?!” Ruth exclaimed, tearing her hand out of Abel’s and looking up at her father angrily. “But we have to – it’s our home! We can’t just not go home!”

“Ruth, honey…”

But she wasn’t having any of it, it seemed. “No! Our friends are back in New York, Papa, we can’t just leave them! And the bakery, we can’t leave the bakery-”

“Papa’s gonna get a new bakery,” Toby told her hurriedly, sensing a temper tantrum coming on. “And it’ll be just as nice as the other one. We’ll make friends here, Ruth, you’ll see.”

“But I don’t want to move here!” She complained tearfully. “It rains too much here, and it’s too cold!”

Daisy was gnawing on her lip. “But we’ll be close to Uncle Newt and Auntie Tina,” She stated, trying to cheer her sister up. “And we can play with Phoenix and Linnet – and Leo – whenever we want. It’s gonna be great over here, you’ll see.”

Ruth’s bottom lip was wobbling, a sure sign she was going to start crying properly soon. “But…But our home…”

Abel suddenly reached out and linked their hands again – a surprising gesture considering it was usually his twin who did such things and not him. “Don’t cry, Ruth,” He said quietly, and he was looking at her intently. “I know. Don’t be scared.”

Toby and Daisy shared a look; it was moments like these that they were sure their younger brother might have been more like their mother than they had thought, that perhaps there was more to him than met the eye. He just seemed to know how people were feeling, seemed to know what they may have been thinking – they couldn’t know for certain, however, and neither of them were particularly comfortable about asking him directly.

“Hey, it’s gonna be okay,” Jacob told her soothingly, and he bent down to take her into his arms; she returned the embrace, hugging him tightly. “I know how you feel, sweetheart – I miss New York too. And we’ll go back someday, alright? That’s a promise.”

Ruth gave a sniffle but nodded into his shoulder. “Okay, Papa. Only if you promise.”

“Yeah, honey, I promise. Alright,” He muttered, standing up and taking his youngest daughter by the hand. “You guys wanna take a look upstairs?”

“Teen, you know I don’t wanna lecture you…”

“Then don’t,” Tina muttered, flicking her wand at the kettle so it boiled. “I’ve already got Newt worrying over me – even if he won’t admit it – and I don’t need you doing either.”

Queenie folded her arms, pursing her lips. “I just wanted to say that you’re so thin – and you’re barely eating now as it is. You’ve gotta a baby to take care of, and you ain’t doing it any good by going hungry.”

“I’m not going hungry,” Her sister disagreed stubbornly. “I’m eating just fine.”

Eli gave a whine from the floor, reaching his hands up for his mother; Queenie bent to pick him up, settling him against her side before looking back at her sister. “Maybe you should get a potion for that nausea.”

“My…stop reading my mind,” Tina mumbled, going pink. “It’s just morning sickness – it doesn’t happen just in the morning, you know.”

“I know. I’m just worried about you, Teenie, that’s all.”

“Well, don’t,” She said pointedly. “You’ve got enough to worry about, Queenie; the kids, the new house, the new bakery…just don’t, alright?”

Queenie sighed, shaking her head. “Alright, fine…I’m just trying to look out for you, Teen.”

Tina tried not to wince at how hurt her sister looked. “I know, Queenie. I’m sorry – I’ve got a lot of things going on, that’s all.”

Her sister was quiet as she skimmed the surface of the older woman’s thoughts, and her eyes were soft. “You worry so much, Teen; you keep giving and giving, and that’s wonderful…but you need to think about yourself too.”

“I’m fine, really,” Tina disagreed, and she waved her wand at the cupboard; two mugs floated out and towards her. “Does Eli want any juice or anything?”

Queenie didn’t look to pleased by the change of topic but turned to her son anyway. “You want any juice, baby?”

“Mmm-hmmm,” Eli agreed eagerly, grinning at her. “Juice!”

Once the tea and coffee had been poured (and Eli had been given a bottle filled with juice), the two sisters sat at the table; both of them silently watched as Eli drank his bottle, holding it in both hands and licking his lips every time he pulled away to catch his breath.

“He’s getting big,” Tina stated quietly. “How old is he now?”

“He’ll be two in January,” Queenie murmured fondly, though she looked somewhat saddened too. “Hard to believe he’s getting so big.”

Tina smiled weakly. “Two…if it makes you feel any better, Linnet’s going to be eight in January… Phoenix will be ten next June.” She folded her arms, looking down at the table. “It doesn’t feel like ten years.”

“No. Toby’s going off to school next September… I always thought they’d be going to Ilvermorny,” Queenie stated sadly. “But I guess now they’ll be at…at wherever it is Newt keeps talking about.”

“Hogwarts.” She hesitated. “If it makes you feel any better, I’ve been to Hogwarts a few times; Newt’s had business and classes up there he’s had to talk to, and I go with him whenever I can. It’s not that bad, Queenie, honestly – it’s not Ilvermorny, but it’s still nice.”

Her sister didn’t look particularly happy, but she still forced a smile onto her face. “It does look nice,” She murmured, clearly having seen the image that Tina had been thinking. “I suppose we should be glad he can go to school, all things considered.”

“Yeah; he’ll like it there,” Tina agreed softly, and she reached out to take her sister’s hand. “Just wait and see.”

Eli put his now-empty bottle on the floor and pushed himself into a standing position; he toddled over to Queenie, raising his arms to her. “Mama, sit w’ you.”

“Alright, come here, baby.”

Tina watched as her sister picked up Eli; Queenie’s face lit up, a radiant smile gracing her features suddenly, and it made Tina feel warm to look at. It was obvious how much her sister loved her children – being a mother suited Queenie so well, and it was almost as if she was born for it for she certainly lived for them.

I’m not like that, she thought to herself morosely – she loved all of her children too, all three of them and she’d love the new one too when they arrived…but she wasn’t as well-suited to parenthood as Newt or Queenie were. She was, in her sister’s words, a ‘career girl’ – she wasn’t adept at playing with children or comforting them, and it was no surprise that she was the working parent while her husband stayed at home.

Queenie looked over at her older sister, smile fading somewhat, and shook her head. “No, Teen, don’t think like that; those kids love you so much.”

“Queenie-”

“Just ‘cause you’re the one at work, doesn’t mean they love you any less,” Her sister continued firmly. “They certainly don’t love you any less than Newt – you should hear what Linnet thinks, you know…and don’t get me started on my kids.” She laughed quietly to herself. “Daisy adores you, Teenie: she was so excited to see you again, and she’s always felt real close to you.”

Well, that wasn’t particularly surprising to hear, to be honest: it was clear that Daisy was especially fond of her, and Tina suspected it was because they were rather similar – both physically and in terms of personality.

“She’s just like you,” Queenie agreed, beaming to herself. “So don’t go thinking any less of yourself, ‘cause there’s no reason to.”

Tina refused to cry at this, and so instead she found herself smiling tearfully at her younger sister. “Thank you, Queenie. I know you guys miss New York, but all the same…I’m glad we’re gonna be living so close to each other again.”

Queenie squeezed her hand. “I am too.”

It took just a few more days for the repairs to be fully done – much to Jacob’s dismay, for he’d been rather unaware that magic could repair things so quickly – and it was with mixed excitement and trepidation that the Kowalski family spent the weekend moving in properly. The Scamanders had agreed to help, of course, and so whilst the children explored the new house Newt and Tina helped to move all of their luggage and belongings in. They spent the first day simply moving things around and judging what they needed to purchase.

“I’m sure you can decorate properly later,” Newt decided, looking around the sitting room. “For now, we should focus on the basic necessities; firstly, beds. I’m supposing you’ll want six at the moment, yes?”

Both Jacob and Queenie nodded; Tina gazed around, clearly deep in thought. “You’ll need a couch – at least one, maybe more – and I’m guessing more things for the kitchen like a table and chairs…the stove is built in, and so’s a fridge…how about sheets? You need any sheets?”

“We can buy some,” Queenie dismissed. “There’s gotta be a place nearby that sells that kinda thing, right?”

“We can buy just about anything in Diagon Alley,” Newt agreed.

Both Jacob and Queenie looked somewhat perplexed; Tina grinned fondly. “It’s a street in London that’s just wizarding stores – we can go tomorrow and you’ll see.”

The trip to Diagon Alley had amazed all of the Kowalskis, and it was no wonder – none of them had seen anything like this in New York, especially not an entire street of wizard shops. It was clear that they wanted to explore every single store (Toby, especially, had looked over longingly at a shop displaying broomsticks) but it had to wait, of course, for they had things they needed to buy.

“We’ll come back,” Queenie had laughed when Daisy stopped to gaze in a bookstore, placing a hand on her back. “Come on, sweetie, we’ll have plenty of time in the future – we’ll have a real day of it.”

Her daughter hadn’t looked happy at all, but continued walking nonetheless.

Who had what room in the house also caused a few problems, it soon transpired; there was a master bedroom, which was of course Jacob and Queenie’s – but the children couldn’t quite agree on which room was who’s.

“I want this one,” Ruth announced, walking into one of the rooms and looking pointedly at her older sister, who was sitting on the bed. “It looks out at the trees, see?”

“But this is my room,” Daisy disagreed with a frown. “It’s got the window-seat so I can read.”

Her sister huffed, putting her hands on her hips. “No, I wanna have this room!”

“I was here first!”

“I’ll tell Mama and Papa that you’re being mean!”

“But I’m not!”

The argument wasn’t pretty at all, and it had taken both couples to calm the girls down; in the end, Newt somehow managed to convince Ruth to take the room overlooking the yard out the back – though he had to promise quite a few things to do it.

“What did you agree to?” Tina asked quietly when no one else could hear them.

Newt went red-cheeked. “I might have promised her a Puffskein…and a Kneazle kitten… Don’t look at me like that!” He added at his wife’s look. “She’ll be more than able to take care of them, I can assure you.”

“That’s not all, is it?”

“…well. No,” He admitted sheepishly. “I may have also agreed that…maybe…I’d let her have a Hippogriff out the back as well.”

Tina groaned. “You didn’t!”

“I did,” Newt muttered, half-amused and half-exasperated. “I didn’t know what else to do…and she wouldn’t be the only one looking after it, I’m sure Queenie and Jacob would be more than happy to help…”

“Jacob, maybe,” She allowed. “But Queenie? She’s going to absolutely freak out.”

One of the children’s favourite pastimes back in New York had been visiting their father’s bakery – and it was no wonder, for he was truly a genius with his cooking and designs. It was with unmeasured glee that all of them accompanied their mother to visit one afternoon later that week, excited to see the new bakery.

“Oh, it’s lovely, Papa!” Daisy exclaimed when they walked in, eyes lighting up; it was decorated somewhat modestly, like the one in New York had been, but it was larger and had more racks to display things on around the room.

“You think so?”

Ruth nodded eagerly, blonde curls bouncing underneath her hat. “Yes – ooh, you should be the Nifflers here, near the counter, and the Demiguises next to them; that way people will see them when they wanna come to buy something and they can just pick them up.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Jacob chuckled. “Alright, you guys wanna see the back-room?”

The oven was already on, and all of them were delighted to smell that there were pastries baking – it was a smell they hadn’t experienced in so long, and it reminded them of home.

“I know we ain’t opening for another week,” Jacob explained. “But I wanted to get back into practice, you know? You guys can try ‘em in a minute.”

Queenie put the hand that wasn’t holding Eli on his arm, smiling softly. “Jacob, honey, don’t worry ‘bout it; your baking is always perfect. People will love everything they buy, I promise.”

“You really think so?” He asked, and he looked somewhat nervous. “I dunno, it’s just…it’s been so long since I last baked…”

“It smells delicious, Pa,” Toby announced with a wide grin. “Ma’s right – everyone will love your baking!”

Abel, remaining silent as ever, nodded and smiled eagerly; Daisy beamed. “It smells real delicious, Papa – it’s gonna be delicious too!”

“Yummy!” Eli declared happily.

Jacob seemed to flush with pride at their comments.

It was safe to say that Daisy loved her new room; back in New York, she’d had to share with Toby, and while she loved her brother she didn’t really appreciate having to share such a small bedroom with him. This new room, however, was everything she could have wanted; it was large enough for her to move about in, probably large enough to dance in, and it allowed her some space for more personal belongings too.

She had been humming to herself as she organised the toys on her bed when there was a knock on the door; when she turned, she saw Tina standing there somewhat awkwardly.

Daisy beamed. “Auntie Tina!” She exclaimed, and she rushed forward to embrace her. “Do you like my room?”

Tina managed a smile. “It’s very nice,” She agreed, putting an arm around her. “I take it you like it then?”

"Oh, yes!” She stated eagerly, nodding her head. “I can have my own books and my own wardrobe and everything now!”

“Well, I’m glad you like it,” Tina said fondly, and as she stepped into the room Daisy realized she was holding something. “I…well…I didn’t know if you guys would have a lot over here, you know, what with the sudden move…and I remember when I first moved here, it was kinda strange, so I thought I’d bring you something to help you…you know, settle in.”

Daisy’s eyes widened. “You got me something?”

“I got something for all of you,” Her aunt affirmed. “I was trying to think about what you might like, Daisy, and then I remembered how you looked when we were near the book store and…” She lifted her hand and passed a small bag to Daisy. “Here.”

Daisy took it from her, touched, and opened in; to her astonishment, there were a number of books inside – and not second-hand ones but new ones.

“I don’t know what kinda thing you like to read,” Tina continued, somewhat anxiously. “But I thought that you might like some books to fill up a shelf or something.” She watched as her niece pulled one out and examined it. “I know it’s not much, and you’d probably have wanted something else, but-”

“Oh, Auntie Tina!” Suddenly Daisy had flung her arms around Tina, embracing her tightly. “Thank you! Thank you, it means so much to me!”

Tina, though surprised, hugged her back. “You like them?”

“Yes!” Daisy was beaming up at her. “I love books! Ruth thinks I’m strange because I like books so much, you know – she always wants to play with her dollies, but I like reading better.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Tina told her, somewhat relieved as she grinned. “I used to love reading too, and…well, when I moved over here, I used to love spending time in the book stores; it felt like I was in New York again sometimes, even just looking at the shelves.”

The girl pulled back, looking extremely grateful. “Hey, Auntie Tina?… Can I tell you something? You know, without you telling my Mama or Papa?”

“Oh,” Tina looked somewhat taken aback; as much as she would have loved to have agreed, she wasn’t quite sure she could keep something too serious to herself – or, rather, without telling Queenie or Jacob. “Well, you can tell me anything.”

Daisy bit her lip. “Don’t tell them, but…I do miss New York. A lot. I mean, I like it here but…but it’s not home, not yet. I feel bad ‘cause I know they moved us here for a reason, but I still miss New York.” She looked up at Tina pleadingly. “You won’t tell them, will you? I don’t want to upset them or the others, but still…I need to talk about things sometimes.”

Tina suddenly realized what her sister had meant earlier during the week – Daisy was similar to herself, and it was no wonder her niece felt so close to her. She understood why Daisy was so keen to want to talk to her – because while there was no doubt she loved her parents, sometimes it was necessary to have another person to be close to, someone who might understand.

“Daisy,” Tina murmured, crouching slightly so that they were level. “You can talk to me whenever, alright? I know sometimes you don’t want to talk to your mother or father – and that’s fine. Sometimes you just…need someone to listen, right?” Her niece nodded. “Well, I want you to know that if you ever want to talk or anything, then you can talk to me. I can’t promise I’ll always be helpful, but I can listen.”

“Okay,” Daisy said softly, looking rather touched by this. “But…But you’re gonna have another baby, that’s what Mama said. Toby told me that you won’t have time for m- I mean, us.”

“I’ll make time,” Tina promised. “And if I can’t be there to listen for whatever reason, then your Uncle Newt will be there – both of us would be more than happy to talk, alright?”

Daisy nodded again, leaning in for another hug and closing her eyes. “Thanks, Auntie Tina.”

Tina returned the hug, unable to stop herself from smiling with only the slightest glisten of a tear in her eye.

It was late by the time all of the children had calmed down and settled into bed; the excitement of moving into a new house had clearly made all of them more energetic than usual, and so it had taken some time for all of them to finally settle down enough to fall into sleep.

Once they were certain all of their children were asleep, Jacob and Queenie had settled themselves at the new table in the kitchen for coffee; it wasn’t nearly as nice as coffee in America, for some reason, but it did the trick. The simply sat in silence for a few moments, relaxing in the peaceful quiet that had settled over the house after so much drama and turmoil.

Finally, Jacob exhaled slowly. “So…what you thinking?”

“It’s nice,” Queenie said quietly, clasping her mug in her hands tightly. “I like it here.”

“Yeah,” He agreed. “Me too… Plus, the kids have got a place to play now, right? All that open space is bound to be better than the streets.”

“The fresh air will do ‘em some good,” She mused, smiling to herself. “They all like it here, you know; they’re all still kinda sad that we had to move since they loved New York so much but…but they’re warming up to here too.”

Jacob looked down at his cup thoughtfully. “You know, I gotta admit, I was kinda wondering how the twins were gonna react to being split up – they ain’t never slept apart before. They seem to be taking it well.”

“Yeah…I worried about Abe,” She admitted. “He relies on Ruth so much sometimes…but he’s absolutely fine. He’s such a strong boy, even if he don’t show it.”

There was another short silence during which Jacob finished his coffee and looked around the kitchen – Queenie heard him thinking to himself, It ain’t so bad here really…nice big kitchen, perfect for cooking in – bet Queenie will like that. It’s real nice.

“It is real nice,” Queenie affirmed, smiling to herself. “And I am looking forward to using that stove, I have to admit.”

Jacob grinned, and his thoughts were still wandering absent-mindedly; I’m real glad she’s happy – that all of ‘em are, actually. Last thing I want is them to be unhappy. It’s a good size, better than the apartment…maybe, if we wanted to have more kids…

She heard him trying to dismiss the thought suddenly, going somewhat hot in the face – but Queenie just beamed, reaching out to take his hand. “Oh, Jacob, honey – it’s perfect for more kids.”

“Oh. Yeah, I mean…I didn’t wanna assume or anything, but…”

“No,” She assured him quite happily. “The more the better, if you ask me…and Eli is nearly two, right? It’s the right time to be talking about it.”

Jacob was still flushed but she knew he was pleased by her answer – joyful even – as he held her hand tightly in his. “I don’t think I’ve told you in a while – I love you, Queenie.”

“Yeah,” Queenie agreed lovingly, and her heart felt like it might burst. “I love you too, Jacob.”

They’d certainly talk about a new baby; they’d settle in properly first before discussing it, making sure their kids were happy and the business at the new bakery was running smoothly…but they’d talk about it nonetheless. They had the room now, after all, and if the bakery was as successful as the one in New York then they’d hopefully have the money too.

There was a definite future for their family here – one of freedom and hope.

Jacob and Queenie also adopted – a new fic idea! XD

I hope you all enjoyed this fic as much I enjoyed writing it; it hasn’t always been easy at times, but I’ve found so much joy in writing it all the same <3 You guys’ comments are keeping me going, so thank you!

Next up: newtina/miracle baby pregnancy; Newtina desk-smut; and much more!