#Popped into my head the very second Anis came out in her coveralls (and it wasn't an automatic hit amongst the ladies)

[lilibretto]

Finally started watching the yuri isekai

[avatarconner]

My Invincible Hero

(Just a experiment to see if these two properties work together for a crossover.)

The new dorms at U.A. Heights were a real change of pace for Mako, he had moved to Japan when he was so young that he barely remembered what it was like back in America. And they had always lived in their house since moving here that living at a dorm was.....ironically, alien to him. Not that it wasn’t bad or anything! Class 1A living together under one roof was, as he expected a blast, case in point the first night they all showed off their own rooms. 

Still can’t believe Izuku still has all that All Might Merch......well not like I’m one to talk. he thought, leaning out from his desk chair to look at the bookshelf beside his door containing his massive comic book collection. His room was, in his eyes, very comfortable, he and his mom found a nice table set with comfortable cushions to sit down on that easily slid under his bed. Though he didn’t have a mini kitchen setup like Sato, no wonder he won their little room coemption.

Thank god we didn’t look in Mineta’s room.....uggghhhh. he thought with a sour expression. Looking over his completed homework, he stood up from his desk and looked outside the balcony window to his room. It was turning to dusk now but for Mako it might have well have been afternoon, he could easily towards the west until it was afternoon over in America if he wanted. 

Looking over at his door, he saw his costume hanging up on a hook, the black, yellow, and blue costume hung up on a hook with his mask also looped around it, his gloves and boots were kicked off to the side after a long day doing some work for the GDA. After his dad.......left.....someone needed to fill in for him, and bypassing a hero license with Global Defense Agency’s license was easy for someone like the head of the organization. But it was nice to get back to school life for a few days.

Before the hero licensing exams that is, I’m still not sure why I need to take it considering I’ve been doing that sort of work for little over a year now. he thought as he walked out of his room. Just in time to see Kaminari rush by, “Hey man, what’s up?” he asked the electric user as he lifted up off the ground a few inches and floated after him.

“Oh! Hey Mako! You wouldn’t happen to have some popcorn would you?” he asked. 

“Uhhh.....no? Why?” he asked in confusion as they stopped in front of the elevator.

The static user gave him a look, “Dude it’s movie night!” he reminded the fellow student. Mako wanted to kick himself, it was Friday night, of course it was movie night!! He was the one who suggested it in the first place! And it was also his turn to pick a movie!!! “Crap! Sorry, right. Yeah, um....no, don’t have any. But I’m gonna fly out, I can pick some up while I’m out.” he offered.

The spikey haired blonde clapped his hands together and bowed his head in thanks, “Your a lifesaver man!” he said, turning back the way he came as the doors to the elevator opened and Izuku walked and smiled to him in greeting. 

“Hey Mako, I was about to do some training real quick, want to join me?” he offered.

When Izuku’s quirk finally kicked in, Mako was probably up there with his friend with how excited he was for him. It took a while....and some broken bones, before he could actually train with Mako, but as soon as he could he was more then happy to. “Sorry, I gotta fly home, grab a movie and some popcorn for movie night. I totally forgot it was my turn this week.” he admitted.

The green haired inheritor have him a understanding look, “It’s ok, we can some other time.” he said acceptingly, making Mako let out a breath. “Um....are you ok?” he asked.

He nodded, “Yeah, yeah just......the whole move here kinda screwed with my whole.....thing. That make sense?” he asked as they both entered the elevator. 

Midoriya nodded in understanding, out of all of their class, Mako was probably the most busy outside of school. “Well, if you need any help, you know that I’m ready to help!” he said with a smile of encouragement. Mako flashed him one back, whenever his role as Invincible interfered with his schoolwork, Izuku had been there to help him out.

“Thanks man. Any recommendations for movies?” he asked as the doors opened to the lobby area and the two friends walked out through the lobby. While not exactly a rule, it was recommended that a couple movies be presented as possibilities, so that way they had multiple options in case it was voted down. This was mainly due to Mineta wanting to recommend a movie that was most likely a skin flick from the title. 

Izuku rubbed the back of his head unsurely, “Hmm, I don’t know....maybe a mystery movie?” he suggested. 

Mako shrugged as they walked towards the doors of the dorm, as Izuku walked off towards the lawn to start training, Mako walked down the path towards the school for a few feet before courching down and launching himself into the air, flying a good ten stories up before adjusting his course and flying towards home.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

After swinging by home, saying hi to his mom and grabbing some movies that he and his dad used to watch. Mako swung by a convience store to get some popcorn before flying back to U.A. 

Wind blowing through his hair, he coasted through the sky as he let his momentum carry him. Contrary to what most people thought for people who flew without the use of some mutant type quirk, flying could tire you out, something Mako had learned early on when his powers started manifesting. If h wanted to he could be back to the school within a minute but decided to take his time and just relax.

That lasted for about then seconds before he heard a scream down from the ground.

Looking down he saw a gigantic man chase after a more norml sized one down the street, the giant man was three times the size of a normal person with viens all over his arms, chest, and neck popping out. Reminds me of guy Izuku fought at the training camp. he thought as he flew down towards the steeet, tossing his bag onto a rooftop before landing in font of the man, “Alright buddy what’s-” he started before the man’s arm reeled back.

“Uh pal I woudln’t-!” he started before he swung his arm and punched the side of Mako’s face with a loud crack.

It wasn’t from Mako.

“GAHHH!!!” The villain shouted as he clutched his now broken hand. 

“Dude I tried telling you.” Mako replied, “Look I don’t know why your chasing that guy but I can’t let you hurt him.” he said as the large man held his hand.

“Why are you after me! That guy robbed my store!!” he explained. Mako turned down the street and saw the man, who mark noticed had a duffle bag in his hand, was running across a four lane intersection. 

“Oh crap! Hang on.” he said before zooming over across the ground, grabbing the man by the bck of his shirt and flying back over to the muscle man. 

“Hey! Let me go!” the smaller man shouted, he looked a little older then Mako, maybe his early twenties at most. 

The muscular bald man pointed at him, “You stole from my safe you little punk! I oughta-” he started as he raised his unbroken hand. 

Mako pulled him back, and raised a hand to try and calm him down, “Woah, woah, let’s calm down a second. Have you called the police?” he asked. The man nodded, “Ok then we can just wait for them to arrive to sort this mess out.” he reasoned. The man took a deep breath before raising his hands, “Why’d you punch me by the way?” he asked.

“Well I thought you were with him, I mean your around the same age so I thought you were his partner or something.” he explained.

Mako nodded in understanding, he could see ho he came to that conclusion. 

“Hey you better let me go! I’ll report you for using your quirk illegally!!” The thief threatened.

“Dude I’m a hero.” Mako replied bluntly.

“What?! No your not! Your a normal guy!” he replied.

“I left my costume at my dorm, what do you think I wear it every time I go out? It’s not comfortable wearing something under normal clothes.” he replied before hearing a siren pull around the corner. After the patrolmen arrived, Mako showed them both his license and they promptly arrested the thief, as they put him in the back of the cruiser, Mako flew up to the roof where he tossed his bag before shooting across the sky back to U.A.

 As he flew over the wall surrounding U.A. he started his decent when he noticed someone sitting down on one of the path benches. She had long blonde hair that went down her back and a pair of glasses over her light blue eyes that were looking down at the ground. She wore a coverall that was the same shade as her eyes with her name across the left lapel, Melissa Shield, the newest student of U.A.

“Hey!” he called out, she looked up in surprised and smiled as he flew down from the sky. Touching down gently on the ground, he smiled at her.

“Hey Mako, nice to see you again.” she greeted welcomingly, however he noticed the dour tone her voice had.

Melissa had begun attending U.A. after the I-Island incident, her old school was sad to see her go, but the blonde girl felt that U.A. was a good change after what happened with her father. She had met Mako and the others at the I-Island Expo, she started attending U.A. after All Might pushed for her to get a role in the support course, since her father was currently.....indisposed, All Might was her legal Guardian. 

“You......doing ok?” he asked politely.

The american girl let out a sigh, “I’m.....managing.” he admitted. He gesuted to the seat beside her on the bench and she nodded.

“Well, if you want to rant or just talk, I’m here.” he offered jokingly.

She giggled at his offer, “No, it’s not that. Everyone here has been really welcoming to me. It’s just......a lot.” she admitted. “Moving from America to here was......well I know everyone is still adjusting to the dorms, but it’s.....well it’s a little more challenging then I thought it would be.” she told him.

Mako frowned, he had been thrown off balance by moving here but it was just a matter of time until he recovered. Melissa though, she had to move halfway across the world to be here, and that was after her father turned her world upside down. Man and here I am saying how rough I have it. My mom is just a short flight away. he thought scoldingly to himself. 

“Yeah.....look, you know that all of us in Class 1A are here for you right? If you ever want to talk or something....” he offered, knowing that she got along well with all of the classmates she met at the I-Island expo. 

The turned to him and gave him a confident smile, “Oh I know! It’s just....I don’t want to be a burden to anyone else by having them listen to my problems.” she explained.

He smiled, he could understood that. With all the crap he’s had to deal with the past year, keeping it to himself seemed like the best for a while. “Well hey, listening to problems is what a hero does. Hell earlier when I was coming back I had to listen to a couple problems before I could help.” he said, abridging the events of what happened. The blonde girl smiled softly at him, and Mako felt his stomach flutter from it.

“Thank you Mako......oh! I’m not keeping you am I?” she asked, realizing he was carrying something in his bag.

He shook his head, “Nah, we’re having a movie night and I needed to grab some flicks from my home.” he said, opening the bag and showing her the selection he picked. 

Her eyes widened in excitement as she picked one out, “Oh I know this one!” she said, showing him the Dawn of the Dead movie he picked out.

She watched his face turn somber for a second, “Yeah. Me and my dad would watch that every year on my birthday.....” he said before smiling a little at the memory. Melissa felt a pang of guilt, what her fther had done for Uncle Might had been questionable at best, everyone knew what Mako’s father ahd done had been horrifying. But it was still HIS dad, she knew that as well as anyone. “Um....do you want to join us?” he offered.

Melissa was surpised by the offer but quickly smiled, “Of course! You don’t mind?” she asked.

He shook his head, “Nah, no one will. We’re starting at 9:30, be sure to be at the dorm by then.” he said as they both got up.

Melissa smiled and nodded, “I’ll be there!” she said ecitedly as she walked away, “And....thanks for listening Mako.”

He shrugged his shoulders, “Anytime.” he said before taking off into the sky and arching over to his dorm.

As he walked up to the door he felt his phone go of in his pocket. Pullig it out as he entered, he saw the caller I.D. and frowned, answering it, he flew up the stairs to his room. “Hey boss, what’s the problem.”

‘You remember the Elephant?’

Mako paused as he opened and closed the door to his room, “Uhhh.....no?” he said unsurely.

‘Big guy, dresses up like....well-’

“Oh! Oh yeah that guy, man I always forget about him.” Mako admitted as he tossed off his shirt and pants and slipped his costume on. It was mostly black with the shoulders and upper torso being covered with a light blue that curved around his pectorals and upper back but ended on a sharp end on his shoulders. on  his chest and over the blue was a yellow block that went down from his pectoals and tapered off to a point towards the navel. 

‘Yeah everyone does, anyway the transport containing him on the way to Tartarus was hit. Heroes are on the way with Endevor leading them, but I don’t want them getting away. So you go as backup.’

Mako pulled on the knee high boots that were the same blue as his costume, along with the yellow fingerless gloves. “Gotcha, is he the only one? I mean it’s the Elephant so I can’t imagine you need a full transport for him.” he explained. 

‘Yeah, you’d be right. Some new baddie who just popped up. Don’t know who he is, but we can’t ahve a loss right now after All Might retired.’

Mako grabbed his mask, a yellow head sock that had an opening for his hair around his head and coverd his eyes with white goggles. It also streched around his neck and the top of his shoulders, making a ‘i’ on the front of his costume. Opening his balcony, he cracked his neck before taking off into the air. “I read you.”

‘Thanks Mako, you sure your up for this I can call someone else if you still need some time to recover.’ 

Mako smiled to himself.

“Don’t worry Boss, you know me. I’m-”

[thefightingbull]

Bonking Heads

Mick gets a call about his pup that sends him racing to the hospital.  No triggers

"He was unconscious when I found him"

Mick usually ignored phone calls at the shop. They distracted him from his work and distracted welders were dangerous. He had too much to live for to allow the flames to take any more lives. He wanted to be there for Leonard and Lisa, but the truth was, there were times when they weren’t always enough to keep those urges at bay.

Jason, his pup, had become the strongest reason he’d ever known for trying to be better. Mick’s little boy inspired him to tame the flames, to keep them at bay so that Jason would never know the painful intimacy of a yellow and orange flare’s kiss.

“Boss!” Mardon shouted. “It’s for you!”

“Tell ‘em to fuck off,” Mick growled.

“It’s your pup’s guidance counselor!” Mardon said after a minute.

Mick’s heart stopped as he carefully turned off the welder and got to his feet. Mardon was beside him in an instant. Mick took the phone.

“What is it? What happened to my pup?”

“There’s been an accident. Jason ...”

Mick’s hearing seemed to fade out, but then it sharpened and he listened carefully before saying, “You tell him I’m on my way, got it? You make sure he knows his Pop will be there soon.”

He had to keep his cool. He had to. Jason needed him to be in control of himself, and there was no way Mick was failing his pup.

“Of course, Mr. Rory.”

He hung up and handed the phone back to Mardon. “Call Len and tell him our son is in the hospital.”

Mick ran to the locker rooms and changed out of his coveralls and PPE. He was grabbing his keys and wallet when Mardon came rushing in. “Leonard just got the call, too. Lisa said she’s giving him a ride to the hospital now. You need me to drive you, Boss?”

“No!” Mick barked as he headed out.

When Mick finally reached the hospital, he saw Len and Lisa parking. He wasn’t going to wait. He didn’t want Leonard to be the first to hear if doctors only had bad news for them. He moved with a powerful fury building in his chest. If someone had hurt their pup they were going to be ripped to shreds. 

“Mr. Rory!” A small omega man approached him hurriedly. “I’m Mr. Roberts, Jason’s guidance counselor.” 

Mick stopped, looking the small man over. Mr. Roberts was only a couple inches over five feet with short, dark red hair and dark brown eyes. There was a quiet confidence to Mr. Roberts that hinted he was well taken care of and indulged by his alpha. 

“Where’s my pup, what happened to him?” Mick demanded. 

“They took him for a CT scan but he should be back momentarily, Mr. Rory.” 

“So what happened?” 

The guidance counselor cleared his throat and then began, “We aren’t certain what the boys were doing, but a few students said something about racing and a few others said it was a fight. They apparently fell from the jungle gym and collided on the way down. One of the recess attendants said they didn’t see the fall, but when she got to the boys they were both ‘waking up’. Knowing that, she had us call for an ambulance.” 

Mick felt his fists tighten as he gritted his teeth to keep his calm. “So they were unconscious?”

“Yes, which is when we called both you and your omega,” Mr. Roberts said with a nervous look in his eyes. “We never take chances with head injuries. The principal and vice principal were taking statements from the children involved in the race to find out exactly what happened, but based on what we’ve heard so far, it does sound like it was an accident.” 

Mick snorted. It sounded angry, but all he could feel was relief. “So you’re saying no one did this to my pup.” 

“That’s correct, Sir,” Mr. Roberts answered. 

“You make sure you lead with that when you talk to my mate and sister, understand? Lead with that and be very clear or Len’s going to want blood,” Mick warned before he dismissed the omega by turning to speak with a beta nurse who’d just approached him. 

“You’re Jason Rory’s father?” she asked. 

“Yes, his father and aunt are coming up the parking lot now, but we don’t have to wait,” Mick said, hoping she’d get moving before Lenny came in. He needed to know how to protect his mate and if he was seeing and hearing everything at the same time, he couldn’t support his omega properly. 

“Right this way, Sir,” she nodded and brought him through a pair of doors and back to a small room that should hold two beds.  

In the only present bed was a blond little boy. Beside him stood a man and woman staring down at their own son with worry. Anger was visible in the man, but like Mick, he appeared just as lost on what to do with it. He must have heard the same “it was all just an accident” story and was left with excess emotion. 

Not good for alphas. 

“They’re bringing your son back from CT and should be here in a few minutes,” the nurse promised. 

“I better go make sure my mate doesn’t kill anyone,” Mick decided since his boy wasn’t in the room yet. 

>

>

Jason huffed irritably in his bed as he was brought back to his and Gordan’s triage room. He listened to the guidance counselor talk to Gordie Lambert’s mom and dad. He couldn’t believe all the fuss being made over them bonking heads and falling down the jungle gym. Jason had only blacked out for a few seconds; he heard the doctors say so!

“Oh, Gordie!” A tall brunette with pretty brown eyes cried as she hugged Gordie tightly. Obviously that was Gordie’s mom. “I was so worried about you!”

Jason couldn’t help but snicker at Gordie trying to get away from his mom. The little boy with blond hair and dark brown freckles was squirming and struggling to push his mother off him. When Gordie heard him laughing, he sent a scowl Jason’s way.

“Dear, you’re embarrassing him,” Gordie’s dad, a blond-haired, blue-eyed man, insisted. “He’s fine, aren’t you, champ?”

Gordie nodded. “I wasn’t asleep. Mr. Roberts doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

Mr Roberst rolled his eyes. “We had several witnesses, Gordie, you and Jason were both unconscious,” the guidance counselor insisted. “Anyhow, now that your parents have arrived, we wish you a speedy recovery and look forward to seeing you both in school when you’re cleared to return. Mr and Mrs. Lambert,” he moved to shake hands with the omega woman, but only nodded at her alpha.

Oh man, Jason almost felt bad for Gordie as he watched him get smothered and scented by his mother. He couldn’t quite make out the woman’s scent, but if the husband’s face was anything to go by, it must have been strong. Mr. Lambert kept trying to console his wife, but she wouldn’t let go of Gordie.

Jason stuck his tongue out at Gordie the instant their eyes met. They weren’t enemies, but they were rivals and they’d been trying to race and defeat each other when they got hurt.

They started with the race out on the black top by the four square lines. From there, they had to make it across the tops of the uneven bars, over the monkey bars, a big jump to the metal jungle gym’s top, and then they had to make their way down the fastest. All while trying to knock each other off balance or slow each other down.

Though they had both slipped and nearly knocked each other down on a few of the obstacles, it wasn’t until they made it inside the long cylindrical jungle gym that things got intense. After Jason tried to loosen Gordie’s grip, he accidently caught hold of Jason’s wrist instead of one of the bars. They both tumbled to the bottom, hitting their heads together on the way down.

“Those damned jungle gyms are dangerous, Howard!” Mrs. Lambert cried, squeezing her son.

“Jason? Jason!”

All the joy he’d felt at the sight of Gordie’s humiliation came crashing to an end as his dads both came running into the room. He felt strong, wiry arms take hold of him gently and yet impatiently. Jason immediately struggled, drawing Gordie’s laughter.

“Dad! Stop it,” Jason growled trying to keep his dad from clinging to and embarrassing him in front of Gordie and the Lamberts. “I’m fine, really!”

“What happened, Jason?” Mick all but shouted.

He flinched at his alpha’s question and, in doing so, gave Leonard all the chance he needed to get a good hold on Jason. Without even looking, Jason knew his Pop had intimidated the whole damned room. Gordie’s mom and dad were alpha and omega, but Mr. Lambert seemed a bit soft for most alphas. Either that or Jason’s alpha was just plain scary no matter who the other alphas were in the room. Leonard was ignoring Jason’s protesting wiggles entirely, holding him close and scenting him.

“Our sons were playing with one another,” Mr. Lambert explained. “From what Mr. Roberts told us, they fell down a jungle gym and knocked themselves unconscious.”

“How long?” Leonard demanded, his icy blue eyes boring straight into Jason’s soul.

“Like one second, Dad, I swear!” Jason did his best to ignore Gordie’s snort.

“I want to hear what the results of the CT were, I’m getting a doctor,” Mick announced and before Jason could call him back, the big alpha had disappeared.

“Damn it, Dad, please, this is embarrassing,” he begged through gritted teeth.

Finally, Leonard decided to take pity on him and let him go. “What were you two doing?”

“We were just racing, honest!” Jason insisted and immediately regretted his choice of words.

Aunt Lisa had warned him weeks ago that adding ‘honest’ to his assertions was his tell and that both Daddy and Pops were more than aware of it.

“Jason Leonard Rory, you better rethink that answer if you don’t want to be grounded for lying,” his dad said sternly.

He blushed under the scrutiny of his father’s gaze, but also because Gordie was now sticking his own tongue out at Jason.

“We were racing,” Jason began. “But we may also have been trying to knock each other down from the obstacles.”

“You what!” Mrs. Lambert gasped behind them as she glared at her own son.

“Wait.”  Leonard closed his eyes and shook his head. “Let me get this straight. You two were racing atop the monkey bars and jungle gym while trying to knock each other off the equipment?”

With a big swallow, Jason nodded. “Yes.”

“Jason, do you know how incredibly stupid and dangerous that is?” Leonard demanded.

Raising a brow at his dad, Jason pointedly looked around him and nodded. “Well, now, yeah.”

“Watch the lip with your father, Pup,” Mick snarled as he and the doctor walked in. “Babe, the doctor has Jason’s results.”

The doctor was a woman with long black hair wrapped in braids with skin almost as dark as chocolate. She offered a pretty smile to Jason’s dads and pulled out two small packets. One she handed to Dad and the other she reached out to hand to Mrs. Lambert.

She must have been Alpha since she knew which parents were the omegas. Jason looked up at parents, trying to gauge whether or not he was in trouble and if so, how much? Was he grounded? It was just a game. And now they knew how dangerous it was, Jason wasn’t as likely to do it again.

Probably.

“Both of your boys will be fine. They each suffered a grade three concussion since they did technically lose consciousness. Because of this we did a CT scan on them both and found nothing alarming. In those packets are instructions for taking care of them and, of course, anything you need to look out for. The most concerning will be vomiting, dizziness, difficulty focusing, or slurred speech; please bring them to the ER immediately if they experience those symptoms.”

“Can we leave yet?” Gordie asked.

The doctor laughed softly and nodded. “I think the administrators will be back with some paperwork, but after that, yes. You are all free to leave.”

“Thanks, Doc,” Mick said with genuine relief.

Jason was glad when the whole group got to leave, though he wasn’t thrilled that Gordie and his parents were parked in the same parking lot. He made faces at his classmate while Gordie merely rolled his eyes and then hissed in pain. Jason giggled until he felt Mick pinch his shoulder.

“Knock it off, Pup,” his alpha warned irritably.

Before Jason could even pout, a flash of red and yellow scooped him up. “I just heard, are you alright?” The Flash asked.

“Whoa!” Gordie cried out as the Lamberts all stopped and stared.

“Is he alright?” Flash asked, stepping them both closer to Leonard and Mick.

“Yeah, Scarlet,” Dad said. “He suffered a grade three concussion, though, so there are things we need to look out for.”

“Not to mention restrictions for the next few days just to be safe,” Mick added.  

Jason had noticed that his parents had taken a strong liking to the Flash recently, which really, was kind of cool. How many kids got to say that their dads were dating a real-life superhero? Then again, how many kids’ parents were also in a group that fought against that same superhero?

He doubted there were many.

“I’m okay, Flash. Me and Gordie just bonked our heads,” Jason assured him since his dads were far too focused on him having a concussion.

“And fell down a jungle gym,” Mrs. Lambert supplied.

Jason and Gordie both exchanged looks of exasperation. Their omega parents seemed dead set on ruining their reputations with their alphas and the Flash.

“Both of you? I hope you guys weren’t fighting?” Flash frowned.

“Not to the death or anything,” Gordie insisted. “But we’re rivals. We were trying to defeat each other.”

“Yeah!” Jason exclaimed. “Just like you and my dads!”

“Jason!”

Flash’s face turned red as Mick and Leonard both snapped off Jason’s name. He ducked his head. Sometimes he forgot that was all supposed to be a secret.

“Well, uh, Gordie, it was nice to meet you. Stay safe during recess, okay?” Flash called over to Gordie. 

The Lamberts waved and headed to their vehicle; Jason could see Gordie soaking in the sight. That’s right! Jason was being held and cuddled by Central City’s own Flash. Really, this had to mean Jason won. At least for today.

“Wanna go to the lab and see Cisco and Caitlyn?” Flash asked, but really Jason knew he wasn’t asking him. 

“I don’t know,” Leonard said with a frown. “Should he be zooming around at those speeds after suffering a concussion? This paperwork says he needs to be resting. No TV, no running around.”

“Aww, come on, Dad! I feel perfectly fine!” Jason scowled at Leonard, but quickly “dropped the attitude” when Mick issued a warning growl. “Please?”

“Pretty sure the speed-force thing protects whoever the Kid’s running with,” Mick said softly. “Scarlet won’t let anything happen to our pup. Besides, you know he wants Dr. Snow to get another look. Just in case.”

Jason’s eyes widened. “Hey, whoa! I already had to hold still in a giant donut! I don’t need another brain picture!”

He hated holding still! It was torture! He tried to get out of Flash’s grip, but his Dad must have said something he missed because Flash responded with, “We’ll see you guys soon!”

And then they were off in a flash.

[thelionshoarde]

Voltron legendary defender, Shance, "Hey Beautiful. Oh $hit, wrong beautiful!" (You don't have to censor the swear if you're comfortable using it)

THIS IS SO LATE, but your prompt inspired an au where the galra never pick up the kerberos team and now shiro has to deal with being back home, not being as over adam as he thought he was, sick again for the first time in a while, and with the WHOLE WORLD now aware of his disease because sanda is a dick! And also most definitely some adorable shance. (or at least, i consider it adorable. there will be duck videos!!!) a thousand pardons for the tardiness, i kept waiting until i finished the whole fic but i’m hella slow and i just keep ADDING THINGS instead

anyway, this is JUST the scene with your prompt in it lol

psa: i focused mostly on ms rather than polio when researching for shiro’s disease, but 1) i need to do a lot more research and 2) i have no personal authority or experience over this topic (tho i do have some experience with chronic illness), so while i am trying to be respectful and realistic about what shiro in this circumstance might be dealing with, please remember that i know nothing about anything, thank you

“Hey, Captain!” called a grinning engineer, coveralls down about her waist. “Good to see you up and about!”

Ah.

Shiro let his shades fall down, slapping against the sides of his nose with gentle pressure. He angled a grin and a wave, and said, “Hey yourself,” and was content to shove his hands into the pockets of his jacket and amble on over toward a big beauty all by herself on the far side.

He had been hoping not to be recognized.

More than that, he had been hoping not to be recognized in direct correlation to his disease. It wasn’t as though it weren’t a part of him, obviously -- he had to deal with it, he had to adjust the world around him to factor it in. It was there, always. But there had been a reason he’d kept it so under wraps. Shiro preferred when it was only ever acknowledged as an afterthought -- he wanted people to see him, not some version of him distorted by sickness.

At least the ‘ships were still beautiful and the summer breeze nice. He made it through the rest of the ‘yard without incident, taking a slow, curving path toward what looked to be a Corona Class vessel. Bulky, heavily shielded, made to withstand longer bouts of radiation than most of the fighters. Her cargo bay was a massive belly on the back half of her fuselage; she had to be hell on turns. And she was just as beautiful close up as she’d been at a distance. Even with his sunglasses on half of the ‘ship was a glare of sun on metal too bright to see through. It didn’t bother him; he knew a good freighter when he saw one.

Shiro came to an unsteady, grateful stop in the shadow of her nose, trying to ignore the way the world had slowly started spinning lopsided on its axis on the way over. He really should have brought his cane, but also: fuck his cane.

“Hello gorgeous,” he called up to the cockpit, nearly as bulbous as her cargo bay.

To his surprise, a voice called back: “You flatterer!”

Startled, Shiro took a step backward and nearly lost his footing, muscles not quite responding how they ought. Damn. He hadn’t realized there was anyone here. The ‘ship had been quiet the whole way over, and -- oh.

That was a torso and head rearing up from the cockpit, the top of which was apparently popped.

Shiro hadn’t been able to tell with the sun shining through the quartz glass at this angle. Ohhh shit, Shiro thought, embarrassed, as the person leaned down over the side of it and laughingly said, “I could say the same to you, Captain! I did not expect to see you here.”

“I didn’t mean you,” Shiro muttered, but he had a feeling his voice had carried with the wind because the shadowy blob nearly twenty feet overhead snickered a little. So Shiro said, louder, “I was talking to the ‘ship. I can’t even see you.”

“Just a minute and I can fix that!” the voice said, cheerily enough.

Shiro squinted through his shades, still embarrassed, and watched as the figure disappeared back into the ‘ship. The cockpits on freighter class vessels were only released for maintenance or in the case of critical emergencies out in the black. That high up in the air it wasn’t feasible to get in and out of in anything less than zero-G. A moment later and the cargo door dropped open with a creaking groan beneath the ‘ship’s high-mounted tail.

Shiro considered turning around and wandering off the way he’d come. But --

He had left the apartment because he couldn’t stand to be there, trapped. He had never felt trapped inside a spacecraft, though, even one that was grounded. And what was one person versus a whole Garrison full of them, which he’d have to traverse again if he wanted to leave. He’d been stopped only once on the way out here, yes, but there was no telling how many might stop him a second time.

And besides. He was pretty certain he wasn’t going to be able to make the walk without issue, if the numbness spreading through his shoulder, now, was any indication.

Fuck, this was awful. What was the best option here? Suddenly he felt tired all over again, weary and worn down, hating how something once so simple had become so complex. He’d just wanted to see the damn spaceships. Fuck this relapse, and fuck himself for not putting on the damned pump when his doctor had told him to.

“Hey, Captain!” the voice called once more, peering out at him, crouched absurdly halfway down the lowered ramp. “Do you want to check my girl out or not?”

The grin smudging against the corners of his mouth in response to that casual, boasting question was all the reason Shiro needed to feel better about staying right here, at least. Hands in his pockets, Shiro carefully ambled on over to the back half of the ‘ship, working hard to keep it natural looking. “Corona Class, right? I recognize the body type, but I didn’t realize there were any still in active use. There were only, hm… three? Before I left for Kerberos.”

“Yup. Helen’s the last one standing. And she’s been refitted, too, so she’s super sexy. I bet you’ve never seen anything like her.”

Snorting, Shiro finally came around aft and put a cautious foot up on the heavy metal of the cargo door, converted into a ramp here where it had thumped into the ground. “I bet I haven’t,” Shiro agreed peaceably enough. He always enjoyed it when pilots were a little in love with their ‘ships. Somehow it made him trust them more.

“Come on, come on, get up here! I never thought I’d get to show off for Captain Shirogane, I’m about to pee myself in excitement here, come on.”

“Whoa,” said Shiro, brows skyrocketing and finding a hand thrust down to help him up the ramp. The sight made something tighten inside his chest, and it was on the tip of his tongue to protest that he didn’t need any help, thank you, he knew his way around a fucking freighter. But then he followed that hand up to the man it apparently belonged to and recognized him.

“Oh,” said Shiro, startled. “You’re -- Ensign Maine, right? From the uh. The press conference?”

The ensign had risen from his crouch and come to stand sideways, staring back into the belly of the ‘ship. His hand was wiggling in impatience, and considering his past experience with this particular ensign, Shiro had the sudden, strong impression that it hadn’t been held out in deference to Shiro’s potential delicacy, and instead simply because he was eager to get Shiro in and started on the tour and this was the compromise to coming down, grabbing Shiro by his jacket, and hauling him bodily up the ramp.

Huh.

Shiro was about to go ahead and take that hand, because he could probably use the help even if he didn’t want it, and this kind of offer was far more palatable than his first assumption. But at the question, the ensign squawked, swinging around to face him. Standing farther up the incline as he was, it put him taller than Shiro, and his eyes were dark and wide, mouth gaping open in ridiculous, dramatic affront. “Maine,” he said, indignant. “That -- totally not my name, oh my god. Have you thought -- ? Agh! And all this time I’ve been so excited that I actually talked to you and you didn’t even know my name, what --”

Shiro reached up and snagged the ensign’s hand in his, tugging hard, just to get him to shut up. And also maybe because he wanted to. Just a little. Smirking, Shiro said, “I still remember you. Sorry I got the name wrong. What is it?”

He would have looked for himself, but for whatever reason this ensign seemed determined to make it impossible to see the damned name sewn onto his clothes. He was in orange again today, but this time it was a dirty coverall, the upper portion shrugged off to revealed toned biceps and forearms and what appeared to be a firm chest beneath a too-tight white undershirt. Happily, it was still just bright enough on the ramp that Shiro hadn’t had to take off his sunglasses, so the guy wouldn’t be able to tell where Shiro’s gaze was lingering. He let himself appreciate the way the ensign’s bicep bulged like a softball as he took Shiro’s weight, standing firm.

Nice.

“McClain,” said the man, now grinning down at him. It was a very white grin, big and bright in a lean, handsome face, and Shiro finally reached up to twitch his sunglasses atop his head, because Ensign McClain was officially pretty enough for eye-candy and -- yep, those eyes were blue, dark and a little wicked with that glint in them.

“Nice to meet you, Ensign McClain,” Shiro said.

McClain waggled his brows and drew Shiro a little closer, up half a step onto the ramp. “The pleasure, Captain,” he teased, “is all mine. Trust me on that one.”

[mayaparker]

Not My Spirit;

Maya “Chaotic Dumbass” Parker, @scarlettxruby and @rydenbolt find themselves inside a Victorian asylum 

When Ruby woke up, it was dark. Nothing strange really, other than her room was never this black. There was always light from the windows streaming in, both day and night. And while darkness didn’t bother her since even then she could usually see, something about this darkness was... wrong. Ruby sat up. The sheets beneath her hands were wrong too. They were thin and scratchy, not at all like her own soft ones. The smells were... Ruby wrinkled her nose. Antiseptic and something else... Her heart beat just a bit faster. No way. No fucking way. She knew that smell. It was something she'd never forget. Just when she was about to stand, a slash of light split the darkness. "Oi... wakey wakey little lady," an oily voice said from the square of light set into what had to be the door to the room. Something hard tapped against something metallic. "No funny business like yesterday, or you'll go back in the chair. Got it?" Ruby was so shell-shocked that she could only nod as the door opened and a man in dirty white coveralls - flanked by three others dressed just the same - stomped towards her. By the time he had the manacles around her neck and wrists - at least partly silver, since they burned the moment they touched her skin - Ruby was just beginning to realize what was going on. This had to be another pocket verse. She was led out - barefoot and in nothing but a shift (a /shift?/ what year was this supposed to be?) - and down the hallway. Hands reached out of the small openings in the doors lining the hall, and here and there people sat along the wall, some dressed properly, others not so much. But the clothing was... "What year is it?" Ruby asked as she was marched along. The man ahead of her snorted. "Losing track of time now too, love? Aren't you just a peach." He spat into the corner. "It's 1899. Least 'til the morning. Then it's a new century. Gonna be one helluva row tonight amongst your lot I s'pose. Warden says we gotta take extra care of the ones what causes trouble." He glanced back at her. "See the new year in right proper. If you catch my meanin'." The yellow-toothed grin he shot at her did nothing to alleviate Ruby's fears.

Maya walked up to Ruby's house with an increasing sense of dread. The pocket universes were popping up all over town, each one seemingly more dangerous than the last. She approached the front door and tried to call Ruby again. It went to voicemail. Again. With a deep breath, she tried the front door and found it unlocked. She stepped inside and the room spun. When it came back into focus, she found herself in a dirty stone building. "Well, that explains that," she muttered to herself. She treaded carefully down the hallway, looking for Ruby or whatever monsters might be lurking here. As she walked, she realized it was some kind of asylum. From a table she picked up a large syringe. Dangerous thing to leave lying about. She turned a corner to see four men leading Ruby down the hallway. "Yeah, I'm going to have to insist that one gets discharged. Effective immediately."

Once Ruby saw where they were, she tried to backpedal. "Let go..." she said, struggling a bit in the orderly's hold. The old stone walls and the smell of antiseptic and unwashed bodies hit her full on as they entered the corridor. "Let me go!" She pulled hard, breaking the grasp of the man holding the chains. "Oi! I said no trouble!" he snapped. Something hit Ruby hard in the back, sending a jot of pain through her limbs. She staggered, nearly falling to her knees. "There now, see? That's better..." The orderly gestured to bring her along, and they dragged her down the corridor, stopping only when another figure stepped into view. "Get outta the way, girl." The first orderly gestured with his billy club. "Go back to your room."

"Um, no?" Maya replied. She was doing some quick calculations in her head, but she needed more information. She tried to see past the orderlies to determine how much help Ruby might be able to offer. It might not be as much as usual considering her history with asylums. But if Maya could at least distract a couple of them. A shout from behind her drew her attention for a second, but she wasn't sure if it was from a patient or an orderly. All Maya could do was try to solve the situation in front of her. "Like I said, you're going to be letting her go now," she repeated.

"Wha'??" The orderly stopped, looking at Maya as if she'd grown a second head. "Are you deaf, girl? I said, back to your room. Or I'll smash those pretty teeth in and send you back meself." He took a step towards her. He was a large, bulky man, lots of poundage that might've once been muscle, but still much larger than Maya. Ruby had come around a bit, though her entire body ached from the jolt in her back. This wasn't the same as when she'd been a patient, she told herself. Or tried to. Her head was foggy. This was some reject movie set. Some Victorian nightmare that didn't really exist. And she wasn't a helpless human this time. But she needed to get the silver chains off before she could be any help. "Maya..." Ruby called. "Belt..." The key to her shackles was on the orderly's belt.

"That's very rude," Maya replied. This was an old trick for her. If she could just distract the man long enough for Ruby to get away or for someone else to intervene, it would be fine. Winning the fight was not priority. Anyway, the man walking toward her was much bigger than she was, but she was certain that she was smarter. Maya didn't look at Ruby when she mentioned the belt. She only nodded, almost imperceptibly. She waited, posed for a fight. When he finally lunged for her, Maya ducked and used his own weight against him. He went sprawling to the floor. She used that moment to yank the keys from his belt. More shouting echoed down the hallways. Maya turned to look at Ruby again, keys in hand.

Asylums in that day and age were full of dark, creepy secrets - mostly the kind respectable families wanted to put away but some... Some were circus show material. Stuff horror movies were made of. And they always got shoved down a basement, locked up and key thrown away. St Agnes asylum had its own beast in a cage, chained up and forgotten until the single daily mealtime it was entitled to just to keep it alive. Him, it was a him, though most of the staff had forgotten. That was the number one mistake they've made - you should never lock up and just forget about the thing that needed a cage to contain it. At some point, he'd be rattling that cage hard enough for a screw or two to come loose. And then it was only a matter of when utter chaos would be unleashed. The shouts down the hallway belonging to the wards of the asylum soon turned into screams. Something got out, something that didn't belong even among the craziest of nutheads, rapists and murderers that plead insanity to get off the gallows.

Ruby waited as patiently as she could, trying to be still and compliant so the other guards would focus on Maya and the man in front of them instead of her. The man wasn't all that smart, and he certainly wasn't fast. So when Maya finally slipped by him and snagged the keys to her shackles, and she felt the attention of the two men shift to Maya, Ruby finally reacted. She'd been slowly wrapping the chains around her arm. It burned, but she would heal. So when she spun and swung at the first man's head - the man with the cattle prod - she connected with a solid 'thud.' He went sprawling, dropping the prod that went skittering across the stone floor. The second man lunged for Ruby, but she ducked him, leaping on his back and wrapped the chain around his neck. She pulled hard, cutting off the man's air. "Prod!" she yelled at Maya as the fourth man went for it. The screams that found their way up the hall drew Ruby's attention as the man struggled in her grasp. They were different sorts of screams. The kind that you ran away from, not towards. "Maya..." Ruby said again, still shaking the fog from her head.

Maya felt a yank as the man tried to trip her. She responded by kicking down hard. He groaned and let go. Starting towards Ruby, she watched as her friend sent one of the men to the floor. A second Ruby seemed to have pretty well under control. Her shout didn't meant much to Maya though. In her second of confusion, the fourth man grabbed the prod and shoved it into Maya's ribs. She shouted as the electricity crumpled her to the ground. The shouting grew louder. Maya pulled herself to her feet. "I think we're going to have company," she said in a hoarse whisper with a nod to Ruby. The man who had just electrocuted her seemed to have the same idea as he turned his attention to the end of the hallway.

Ruby wasn't keen on killing, but in this case - especially since these fucks weren't real - she would make an exception. As Maya got tazed, and the shouts from down the way grew louder and closer, Ruby gave a quick yank on the chain. There was a wet, snapping sound as the guard jerked once and grew still. Ruby let him fall to the floor before turning to Maya and the other guard. He was pale as a sheet, and when something ran towards them - something covered in blood and torn clothing, fleeing for its life - the guard forgot about Maya and Ruby, dropped the prod, and fled back down the hall. Ruby wasted no time uncuffing herself with the key Maya had, and then helped her friend to her feet. "Yeup. We should go..." Snagging the prod from the floor, just in case, Ruby backpedaled a bit, searching for a way out.

His progress was slow down the hallway, because at every step, there was something that bravely but foolishly tried to charge at him only to end up smashed into the wall. They were mostly people, people the beast didn't give two shits about. After all, he wasn't one of them, didn't think of himself as one of their kind. They were meat and bones to chew on. And being locked up for so long made him hungry. So very, very hungry... The man in front of the best faltered, a prod half raised in a poor attempt to strike but he had second thoughts halfway through. What stood in front of him would make anyone second-guess their life choices. Neither man nor animal, part wolf and part human, jaw full of bloodied teeth and claws sticking out of fingertips. The ward let out a sound, squealing like a pig before the beast jumped him and tore into his big fat belly, muzzle digging in deep. They slid down the corridor for a few feet, propelled by the speed with which the beast collided with the man and when they came to a stop, that's when Maya and Ruby would see it - a big, black wolf-man, neither here nor there in his transformation, feeding on the still twitching soon-to be corpse of one of the orderly of the asylum.

Maya was all for getting the hell out of there. Clearly whatever was coming was worse than the orderlies and she did not want to meet it. Slowly, she backed down the hallway, looking for a weapon or an exit. But she wasn't about to turn her back on whatever this was. She froze when it came into view at the end of the hallway. It looked like...But it couldn't be... "Ruby," she whispered, "I think that's Ryden." She only had a glimmer of recognition because he'd semi-shifted for her once before, in the abandoned cabin over a year ago. But this was different. Whatever he was now was not what he had been then.

Maya was right. This was not the Ryden they both knew. Nor the wolf who was the member of Ruby's pack. This was The Beast - the embodiment of the demonic ritual Ryden was exposed to on the day he'd been bitten. It was the thing the horror movies tried to portray, the thing that gothic literature attempted to describe - poorly in comparison to what was feeding in front of them. When it hollowed out the man's stomach cavity, he stood back on his hind legs to a height so impressive he made ceiling look closer to the floor. He dwarfed everything around him. Curled fingers were more paws than hands, long claws painted crimson. His slobbering snout was dripping with blood. He let out a terrible howl that shook the corridor and all its adjacent rooms. And then his attention turned to the next thing that was moving.

Ruby knew it was Ryden. Even as twisted and horrible as the creature was, she could smell her friend beneath it. Barely there, and without any consciousness of the man he really was, but there. This was the thing she'd never seen. The Dark she smelled in him at times. "It is," she told Maya. "But it's not him either. It's..." She shook her head, keeping hold of Maya's arm and backing slowly away. You never ran from creatures like this, as it only drew their attention. The gore and the horror didn't bother Ruby. It was the not rightness of the creature that bothered her. No wonder Ryden felt the way he did about it. And what better place for it to come out than this?? The howl shook the walls, and the wolf inside Ruby stood up, lowering her ears and growling. But it would be no match for the beast down the way. Better than either Ruby or Maya, but still a much weaker creature. "Do not run... find a doorway... something... before he-" It was too late. The Beast saw them.

Maya nodded, eyes never leaving the creature that used to be their friend. She didn't move as Ruby tugged at her arm. But it wasn't fear that froze her in place. Not at first. She couldn't just walk away. They couldn't leave Ryden in this place. Fear replaced her concern though as it howled. She swallowed. "Fuck," she whispered. Ruby, in her wolf form, might have a hope of outrunning it. Maya human as she was had no chance. As her mind raced to come up with an alternative way of not being ripped apart, she remembered her experiments with Faye. "I have one very bad idea," she whispered to Ruby.

The beast lowered himself to all fours, to creep better towards them, stalking with his grey, glowing eyes pinned on his next two targets. He seemed to be grinning, but it was just a snarl giving way to too many sharp, deadly teeth. He lowered himself all the way down to the floor, ready to pounce, because their heartbeats were enough to set him off. A low growl announced a deadly leap in their direction.

Yes, they could just walk away. Ryden wouldn’t be left here. He’d be spit out along with them once they did whatever it was they were here to do. But if he got spit out like this... “If it involves trying to talk him down, it won’t work. Ryden’s not in there.” She didn’t want to leave him either, but the wolf in her screamed retreat. She was brave, but not foolish. Ruby tugged harder on her friends arm. “Maya...” Ruby would shift if it came to it, and do what she could. At least she had a chance of maybe slowing the creature down, drawing its attention. Maya was just a soft morsel, unless she had something up her sleeve.

Maya looked away from the creature to give Ruby a look. She might be stupid sometimes, but she wasn't /that/ stupid. She turned quickly back to face the wolf man though, knowing better than to take her eyes off it for long. She took an involuntary step back as the wolf shifted onto four legs. "More like using my magic touch," she added. It was fully fear now that had her frozen to the spot. She needed to move. Part of her brain was screaming at her to move. As for her idea of a plan, it had sounded crazy in her head, but it sounded even more so when she said it out loud.

The beast leaped and a quick swipe of his massive arm had Maya pushed out of the way like she was nothing but a rag doll to him to throw around. Maybe he had sensed a shadow of a threat in the wolf lurking within Ruby and she was the first one he went for, circling her as if to challenge her. Then his first strike fell, slamming straight into her to bring her down to the floor, aiming to bite into her neck. That was how the wolves hunter prey smaller than themselves - they went straight for the neck, for the kill. The supernatural strength in her arms was the only thing that kept him at bay, jaws snapping mere inches away from her face. She was screaming for Maya to get away, to run.

Ruby shoved both hands hard against the beasts neck, holding him back with every ounce of strength she possessed. The muscles in her arms strained, and hot slobber dripped onto her face. “Run!!” She screamed at Maya, growling at the beast above her. She couldn’t shift like this. She’d be ripped apart the moment she was vulnerable. But Maya didn’t run. Instead, she did the opposite, throwing herself at the creature. She was no match for him strength wise. Ruby kicked at the beast with her legs, but she was pinned. “Put him out!” She yelled at Maya, knowing some of what her friends magic might do. She would shift if she could get away, but she needed space.

Maya found herself suddenly on the floor again. Pain blossomed in her ribs. She shut her eyes against the tears that sprang to them. It was enough though to break her out of the fear that had grabbed hold of her. "Ruby!" she shouted as she saw what Not Ryden was about to do. Despite having just argued that she wasn't that stupid, she leapt forward and wrapped her arms around the creature, trying to pull him away. She felt, among many other things, the electric shock that accompanied her accidental use of magic. It was a begging for calm and peace that she felt from the bottom of her heart. It was instinct without fully understanding what she was doing. Her conscious focus was on trying to drag him off of Ruby.

Maya was just a flea attaching itself to the massive, fur-covered bulk of Ryden's back and for a second, it seemed unlikely that she'd be able to do more than a flea would. If they were lucky, she wouldn't annoy him enough to shake her off with a kick. But the deadly jaws stopped snapping at Ruby as she fought her best to push him back, her trembling arms ready to give in any second against the sheer weight and power of the beast. Ruby could now see the dilated pupils in the silver of Ryden's eyes shrink as he blinked, confused by the electric shock of magic Maya sent through his body. It was making him feel things other than endless rage the beast fed and thrived on. With a huff alike to a massive sneeze, the beast scuttled off Ruby, hunching and whining as if hit by some unseen force strong enough to kick him away. Ears flattened, he curled up in a corner, ducking his face under a paw as if to hide it.

Something happened then, and Ruby saw something in Ryden’s eyes shift. She felt the residual of whatever Maya had done as it fizzled over her too. The beast moved off, whining in a way that tugged at something inside her

Maya slipped to the floor as the wolf man let go of Ruby. She tried to breathe past the pain in her ribs. Her gaze quickly sought out the creature again, trying to see if it was going to attack. What she saw instead stole her breath. She looked down at her hands, realizing slowly what she had done. She swallowed. Without getting up, she picked her way carefully over to the creature. Maya was careful to make no sudden movements. "It's okay," she spoke softly, "We can help you. Did they hurt you?" It was a tone she would use with any injured animal. She trusted Ruby to recover, even shift if she needed to. First in Maya's mind though was making sure that the creature wouldn't attack again the minute their backs were turned.

She pushed to her feet, looking between the shivering beast that was her friend, and the witch that was also her friend. “Be careful,” Ruby told Maya. “I’m gonna change, just in case.” There was the span of less than a minute where Ruby changed into her lupine counterpart. She shook herself, breath steaming in the cold air, but stayed where she was. She lowered her head, ears forward towards the other creature, and whined. ~Hurt you?~ she echoed Maya, stepping close to the witch. ~Bad people.~

The beast whined, lowering himself all the way down against the wall. What would be soft cries coming from any other animal, they resonated loudly out of him in an unnatural, guttural way. Long tongue licked at his wrist where he was bound before, all those long long years in a dark basement, as any animal would when injured, in pain or distress. You could almost think that it was an animal like any other, abused, misunderstood and just wanting to live. Maya sent out calm, and calm he was, but only for a moment. Very very brief moment. A snarl bubbled up from within him again and angry, murderous eyes focused on Maya. Whatever they thought they saw, it was gone or wasn't in there to begin with.

Maya noticed the marks on the creature's wrists as it licked them. "We can get you out of here. Get you somewhere no one will hurt you anymore," she continued. She clamped her mouth shut to keep from swearing as it brought its gaze back up to her. Whatever moment of calm was gone. Again she needed to run, but knew that sudden movements would only make things worse. She stopped. "Okay, never mind," she said in the same calm tone before reversing direction.

The wolf gave a warning growl as the beast seeped back in. She took one step between him and Maya. ~No.~

Whatever this beast was, it said nothing in response to Ruby. Ryden's true wolf, although not a wolf of many words, was open to communication, to feelings. It was vibrant with emotions, as any living creature is. This thing was a black hole for anything but wrath. Nothing went through to him, not a friend, not an enemy, not a fucking baseball bat. It didn't feel fear, regret or sorrow. He was rage incarnate, one of the seven deadly sins in its true form. And he went at Ruby full force again, claws into her snow white fur, teeth bared for her neck.

Maya couldn't help, but scream again as the creature lunged for Ruby. Any emotional confusion about wanting to help her friend evaporated. There was nothing left of Ryden in this thing. The only way to actually help him would be to get the hell out of this pocket universe. Without killing Ruby of course. Maya pulled herself to her feet. She wasn't sure it would work twice, but she had to try. They just needed to space to get out of this place. She took a deep breath, focusing this time. Hoping that it was too much focused on Ruby to pay much attention to her, Maya took a step forward and attempted to lay a hand on the creature.

Ruby felt the impact like a runaway train, claws and teeth piercing flesh that had already started to heal. The wolf ducked to the side, using her smaller form to sidestep a bit. But he still grabbed her and held on. She clamped her teeth over the side of his head, one ear and one eye obscured by her massive jaws. She tried to shake him, to toss him aside so they could run, but it was like trying to throw a mountain. Claws dug into her flesh, and Ruby yelped shrilly as something snapped. But she didn’t let go.

Ruby had another disadvantage - she wasn't shifted halfway through, had no opposable thumbs and if she stood up on hind legs, she could only do a trick dog lovers would aww at. Ryden was a human form with all the advantageous features of a werewolf. Ruby had everything going against her but her brave, strong heart and an urgency to protect a friend. A friend Ryden didn't mistakenly ignore this time. Maya did receive a kick this time, right into her stomach, shooting her to the opposite wall like a ball from a cannon. Ryden's hand found Ruby's sensitive underside, claws digging into the sensitive spot under her ribs. Just another push and he'd break flesh, reaching for her intestines. She fought back though, witch such fierceness despite the pain that Ryden couldn't keep a very good hold of her. Her slick fur was constantly slipping from his grasp, taking advantage of her smaller frame. So he caught ahold of her back leg and tossed her away like a dog-shaped toy. He didn't even wait for her to properly land before he rushed after her to fetch her in his open maw.

All the breath left Maya's lungs as the creature formerly known as Ryden landed a kick in her stomach. She skidded to a stop. Tears sprang to her eyes again. "Fuck," she wheezed. They had to get out. One of them had to get out. Maya had to tear her eyes away from the sight in front of her to look for any exit. A few feet to her right was an half open window. She dragged herself to her feet. Every movement hurt. She climbed onto the sill. One last time she looked back at the two wolves fighting. "I fucking hope this works," she whispered. "See you on the other side," she shouted, hoping to buy Ruby a distraction. Maya then turned and leapt from the window. It was only the second story. Not good by any means, but could be worse. A moment later she landed on soft grass and quickly tipped into a somersault. She ended up laying flat on her back, staring up at the cloudless sky outside Ruby's house.

It was pushing past the limits of dangerous. Ruby’s tender belly scraped raw from the claws that tried to eviscerate her even as she struggled and fought and tried to keep the beasts attention away from Maya. But the beast was part man, and Ruby wasn’t. He had advantages. All the advantages. And when she was tossed like a rag doll, dazed and ears ringing, she almost couldn’t get back up. She barely registered Maya’s form moving out of site, but the teeth and claws coming at her drew her attention. Blood ran from Ruby’s wounds, flecked the foam on her muzzle as she breathed heavily, but she pushed to her feet, teeth bared and limbs shaking, ready to meet him head on, if it would mean Maya’s escape, and hopefully both of theirs too. And then she was steaming and panting on the lawn.

The moment Maya had jumped out of the window, time in the pocket world seem to slow down, leaving Ryden in mid-leap after Ruby. What tumbled past Ruby wasn't the beast, but a limp, naked form of nothing but a man, unconscious to even brace himself for the fall. He rolled over the grass on Ruby's front lawn, the earth cushioning his fall and stayed down, sprawled on his side.

Maya heard with relief Ruby and Ryden on the lawn beside her. Turning her head to check on them, she found they were both naked. She should probably help with that. But she needed a second. Her ribs were screaming, but not quite loud enough to drown out the pain from her legs. "Alright, anybody dead?" she asked in a breathless almost laugh. They were out. The asylum was gone. There was going to be some fallout to deal with, but it could've been much much worse.

Ryden was unresponsive, lying sideways on the ground with his back turned to them. But the way he lay there didn't seem unnatural, like a dead body would sprawl. He was very much alive, just knocked out.

Ruby groaned, holding her own side and coughing wetly. There were long, bleeding gashes across her shoulders and belly, and she was barely holding on to consciousness.

"Okay, I'm taking that as a yes," Maya said as she pushed herself off the ground. She had to downplay it a little. After all the horror of it all was almost too much. She looked between Ruby and Ryden. He was unconscious, but at least seemed relatively uninjured. Ruby needed immediate medical attention. But Maya would need help for that. She could stop the bleeding if she could just get Ruby into the house. Using the last stores of her magic, she pressed a hand to Ryden's back, sending a shock of adrenaline through him. Hopefully it would be enough to wake him up. Immediately though she got out of the way, just in case. Moving over Ruby, Maya tore off her shirt to use as a makeshift and very temporary bandage.

It worked like a charm. For all intents and purposes, when Ryden was fully human, he was human all the way, super strength aside. He jolted up, stumbling with a yelp, like someone had just poured ice cold water on him while he slept. "Wha... huh... aah?!?!" He panted, frantically looking about himself. But he was used to it. Waking up someplace he didn't remember he was headed to, butt nekkid and confused was pretty much your every usual Thursday for him now. What was so totally wrong with this picture was Ruby on the ground, bleeding and Maya trying to fix that. "Shit... fuck!" He cussed under his breath, immediately going over to them. "What the fuck happened?"

“Ow...” Ruby murmured as Maya pressed on the wound. Her ribs and insides were mending like normal, but the rest didn’t seem to be improving much.

Maya spared a glance Ryden's direction as he leapt up. "I know," she said softly to Ruby, "I know it hurts." She looked back to Ryden. "I need you to help me get her inside," she half-ordered. But some of the authority was lost by the breathlessness of her voice. She couldn't take a deep breath without her ribs screaming in protest. But she just gritted her teeth against the pain. Ruby's external wounds weren't healing like they should and that took first priority.

Ryden nodded at Maya's instructions, carefully tucking his hands under Ruby to gently lift her up. "Hang in there babe, we'll fix it." He attempted to comfort her but it was secondary to getting her inside as carefully as possible. He pushed the door open with his shoulder and went for upstairs, where Ruby's bedroom was. The last time they were here, he'd stolen a wish he shouldn't have made.

Maya walked behind Ryden into Ruby's house, pain echoing with every step. She swallowed it and tried to keep the wincing to a minimum. While Ryden headed straight for the upstairs bedroom, she stopped in the bathroom for first aid supplies. She then followed them upstairs. Without hesitation, she went to Ruby's side to properly patch up her wounds. Ryden would get whatever he'd come up here for. Now that he was himself again, she could trust that.

Normally, Ruby was more worried about others than herself. But right now she didn’t have much choice. She groaned as Ryden lifted her, head rolling against his shoulder as he carried her inside. Her breathing wasn’t as labored anymore at least.

Putting Ruby down on the bed, Ryden immediately knew what he should be looking for. He rummaged through the same drawer he looked into before, back on that night when Ruby was bitten. As expected, he came up with a couple of blood capsules Ruby had stashed. She snapped one open for her, sitting on the bed to help her drink from the tiny vial.

After bandaging Ruby up, Maya moved on to her next task: clothing. She pulled out some loose fitting clothing and set it on the bed beside Ruby. It could wait until Ryden was done feeding Ruby from the capsules. She did her best as she moved around the room to cover up that she was injured. She dug through a few drawers before finding some jogging pants that might have a hope of fitting Ryden. She tossed them on the bed too. Finally, she sat on the edge of the bed, trying to breathe properly. The room had started to spin a little, but it would pass. She should get water. They could both use water.

The blood capsules were a precaution from when Ruby had been human. But they were still effective. She coughed slightly as Ryden poured the thick substance into her mouth. But she swallowed it down. It started to work almost immediately, though still a bit slower than usual. There would be some scarring, but Ruby could live with that. Finally she groaned again, opening her eyes to see Ryden’s face, his grey eyes. Not the beast or the wolf, but her dear friend. She weakly tipped her forehead to his, sighing wearily but in relief. “There you are...”

"What, have I been away." A smirk tugged on a corner of Ryden's mouth and he ducked down to press his forehead against Ruby's briefly, closing his eyes for a second against the touch. When he parted from her, he looked around to Maya, where she was sitting on the bed. He kept one capsule for her and was handing it over to her. "What's going on?" If she thought he hadn't noticed her injuries, she was mistaken.

Maya turned her head back to give Ruby a soft smile. "You scared me for a second there, Ruby," she said. She took the capsule from Ryden with a quiet thanks. She shook her head, "It was one of those fucking pocket universes. This Victorian era asylum," she explained before cracking open the capsule. She drank it down. Relief seeped through her immediately. It wasn't complete, but it was a hell of a lot better. Maya finally took a full deep breath. "I put some clothes out for you guys, if you want them," she added.

“Sort of,” Ruby said to Ryden, giving him a soft smile. “But you’re back now. And sorry ‘bout that,” she said to Maya. “It was fucked. Felt like... bad memories,” she huffed. “You good?” she asked the witch, seeing the capsule Ryden handed her.

Ryden regarded Maya for a good, long second until she drag the capsule till the last drop. "Thanks..." He mumbled, warm palm resting against Ruby's forearm. "And I'm guessing the reason I don't remember it is cause I wolfed out there." He concluded, all on his own. "Who did this to ya both?" He put he next awkward question out there, up for grabs for anyone willing to answer it.

Maya scooted up the bed to sit next to Ruby. She leaned back against the pillows. The fabric felt cool and soft against her skin. She'd abandoned her shirt to the floor once she'd gotten proper bandages. Eyes closed, she gave Ryden a nod, "You did." She didn't answer his second question though. It wasn't him, not really. "I'm okay," she said. She opened her eyes again. Her limbs felt heavy. She could breathe again, but she still felt sore all over. With her human rate of healing, it would probably be a few days before that fully faded.

Ryden sucked his bottom lip in, teeth biting in a little when Maya confirmed his fears. It wasn't the first time he'd hurt someone without even knowing. It wouldn't be the last either, he knew it. And now these two knew that as well. Good. It was just a matter of time when they'd stop calling and meeting up, having seen him in their nightmares too many times to handle him in reality. Good, good. Hardly any of these thoughts showed on his face as he grabbed the clothes Maya had found for him and started putting the ill-fitting sweats on. Tight as they were, they'd do the job. "Gonna grab ya water and stuff." He announced, going downstairs to the kitchen.

Ruby hummed in agreement that Ryden had indeed wolfed out, but glazed over the second part. “I’ll just be glad when these things go away,” she said of the pocket verses. It didn’t matter what or who had hurt them. It wasn’t him, that’s all that mattered. That and they were all okay now. “Good,” Ruby said to Maya, still leaning slightly against Ryden. She didn’t bother with clothes. She was too tired. But she watched Ryden go with a concerned look, listening to him moving around in her kitchen.

Maya shook her head as Ryden started to leave. "No, bed," she argued weakly. He was already gone though. "Me too," she agreed with Ruby. She then pushed herself off the bed. "I'll be right back," she said, "Get dressed if you want. It'll start to get cold soon." Maya padded downstairs. Her footsteps were louder than usual. She stopped and leaned against the kitchen doorway without a word.

“‘M’good,” Ruby murmured. Though as Maya followed after Ryden, she did reach to slowly pull what maya had laid out. Since she’d gone to all the effort. And apparently would be coming back with Ryden. Sleeping in a warm pile sounded like heaven right now. She could hear Ryden’s voice in the kitchen, and even though she tried not to, she couldn’t help but overhear.

The moment he'd heard Maya's shoulder hit the doorframe with inaudible, dull thud, Ryden turned the tap off, placing a glass of water down on the counter. "Your ribs are bruised. Not broken, but definitely bruised." He informed her, not because he could sniff out but because he knew how a person moved when their ribcage was in terrible pain. He wasn't turning around to look at her.

"You can say that again," Maya agreed. It wasn't the first time she'd bruised her ribs. She did sort of hope it was the last time though. She doubted it, but she hoped anyway.

"And Ruby and that gash she got... Was it a pocket world monster or... was it me?" Ryden asked, in that calm voice that asked for nothing but the truth and he wouldn't ask for it twice.

Maya knew that tone. She'd used that tone. "Trust me, that thing wasn't you, but yeah, technically it was you," she couldn't help but couch it. It wasn't him. After having looked it in its eyes, she had to say as much. "And, um, I did some magic on you. Sorry about that," she added as long as they were laying everything out on the table.

Ryden’s shoulders twitched as he snorted out a weak smile. "That's my girl... Good job." He'd usually very much mind if anyone practiced any magic on him he didn't voluntarily agree to. But in this case, he'd encourage Maya to throw all the fireballs and lighting bolts or whatever at him. Anything to keep him from hurting her and other people, because he couldn't stop make sure he didn't himself. He turned the tap water back on and poured another glass. He emptied it right after then filled it again.

Maya's lips tilted in a crooked smile. "Are you hurt at all?" she asked. She'd already scoped him out earlier, but he might be better at hiding it than she was. She watched his back too, trying to tell how he was doing. Not well, she guessed. But Maya didn't know how to help. Other than staying, she didn't know what she could do.

"Yeaaah. I'm like a cockroach. Indestructible." Ryden picked up two glasses of water, finally turning around. No one would've guessed at what had happened earlier just by his expression. He looked like a veteran to pocket universes, violence and friends in distress whom he'd almost killed. If he was troubled by it at least a little, he didn't let it show. "I guess I gotta pamper you two now, cause I got yer asses whooped. Ya shouldn't move much. It's gonna hurt hell of a lot more f'ya do."

Maya nodded. There wasn't much else to say on the point. She watched him turn, dark eyes soft and full of concern. There was nothing in his expression that suggested Ryden wasn't fine. But she knew what had happened. Maya managed a laugh and then winced. "You think this is my first rodeo?" she asked, "I can handle a couple of bruised ribs." She took one of the glasses from him and sipped. "C'mon," she gestured with a nod of her head towards the stairs, "There's a bed upstairs that's calling our names."

"I think you ride that bull too hard and too often for your own good,” Ryden said softly, letting her take a glass off him. "But yer not the only one t'blame." He followed her back to Ruby's bedroom, putting the glass he carried for Ruby on he nightstand and within reach.

Maya smiled a little brighter, "I'll get up to a minute one of these days." 

Ruby listened to the quiet conversation in her kitchen. She didn't think Maya would outright lie to Ryden - just as Ruby wouldn't - but to hear him ask outright if it was him that had hurt them was heartbreaking. Ruby knew it /wasn't/ him, not really. Just whatever was inside him that was /using/ him against his will. A parasite that needed out. She huffed a small laugh to herself though as Ryden mentioned them getting their asses whooped. It was true. She was gonna have to hit the gym apparently. As if it were that easy, of course. But then he and Maya were both coming back upstairs. Ruby murmured a soft thanks for the water, taking a small sip to get the bad taste out of her mouth before taking a longer one to help her thirst. She sunk back down under the covers afterwards, watching the others sleepily. "Ain't no blame to lay on nobody..." she said, shifting the covers if they were going to lay back down.

"Shut up, badly hurt losers ain't allowed to talk," Ryden spoke too softly for it to be anything but his usual way of showering someone dear with tough loving. Or rather, a convenient cover for the guilt he felt at seeing Ruby hurt but still ready to forgive. Wasn't he supposed to take good care of her too? When her brother got her bit, she was left with no one to guide her through the life-changing transformation she'd gone through. Ryden was there to make up for that. If fate had ever poked him in the eye, telling him that something was his responsibility, it was that time, when he chased Johnny away and took over as something like Ruby's mentor or alfa or whatever wolf crap equivalent would that be. Nice job he'd done there. She told him she was grateful for letting her be independent and find her own way through this. He thought he was being negligent. He couldn't even find her a real pack. He just assumed she didn't need it just like he didn't. He sat down on the bed, lowering himself onto the mattress next to Ruby. He'd heard from other werewolves that their kind had a strange, comforting sort of healing powers when in a pack. Not the kind that would cure cancer or provide an antidote to a poison. But the kind that came with being surrounded by a family and warmth. He scooted carefully closer to Ruby, wrapping an arm around her in a way he wouldn't put any painful pressure on her injury. His warmth against hers, he felt an instantaneous relief himself, some kind of toasty, pulsing feeling inside that could only be described as a healing energy that mostly healed the soul, rather than the body, and maybe took some of the pain away too.

Ruby huffed a small laugh, but kept mostly quiet after that. Truth was, she could've simply run away from The Beast. Snagged Maya and forced her to follow until they found a way out that would save all of them. But it hadn't worked out that way. That wasn't Ryden's fault. If it wasn't for Ryden, Ruby would be dead right now. She would've bled out on the bathroom floor. And that would've been the end of her story. But it was because of Ryden that she was here now. Alive and finding her way through all the things life brought to her door, sometimes quite literally. But it wasn't up to him to find her a pack, no matter what they were to each other. Her pack was here. In Ryden and Maya. And in others that weren't present. And with that, Ruby was happy. So she made room for him when he slid in next to her, groaning in relief as his warmth - and whatever other power their kind had - rolled over her. Her injuries still pained her a bit, but the ache in her chest eased. Like a weight was lifted. She lay her arm over his, fingers stroking his skin in sleepily, idle affection as Maya joined them.

Maya curled up on the other side of Ruby. She hadn't had a proper night's sleep in a long time, but right now was probably her best shot at it. "Okay, wake me up in about five years," she murmured as she closed her eyes. Her ribs still ached dully, but she was exhausted enough not to be bothered by it. "And nobody go feeling guilty over things that aren't their fault."

Ryden pressed himself flush against Ruby's body, so that he could reach over to Maya as well, easily scooping both women into his wide arm-reach. He buried his face into Ruby's hair, warm palm spreading over the side of Maya's ribcage. Whatever Ruby and Ryden shared, it seeped some into Maya too. Sleep wasn't going to come easy to him. But holding them both safe in his arms made him feel a little less like a wolf in sheep's clothing, meant to destroy everything good that despite the evil in him tried to surround him.

Ruby sank into the warm cocoon of blankets and bodies, bolstered by the wolf at her back and the witch at her front. She was already drifting off, too tired from the shift, her injuries, and being cast in and out of reality to stay awake much longer. Ryden's breath was warm in her hair, and she used the rise and fall of his breathing to slow her own. She tucked herself against Maya's front, inhaling the smell of magic and warm, sweet things mixed with Ryden's own comforting familiar scent. Later, there would be things to talk about, but right now this was the best place any of them could be. Ruby hummed softly, voice barely there as sleep pulled her down. "This ain't the threesome I dreamed about... but it'll do..."

[rilenerocks]

People talk about their spirit animals. Or about which animal they’d be if there was really reincarnation. My mind has glanced over that topic more than once in my life. I used to think that if I wasn’t human, I’d be a dolphin. I like their big brains. I like that they hang around in groups and are strong communicators. And they’re helpful, seemingly altruistic. All of those traits appeal to me. As I’ve matured and looked at myself differently than I did years ago, I realized that my personality has shifted, along with my interest in nature. A bird girl when I was little, I’ve grown more interested in them in more recent years. I’m a skywatcher, a cloudchaser. I still love water. What could be a better spirit animal for me than an albatross? They’re gliders. They can fly for thousands of miles, never touching land, feeding from the sea. The majority of them mate for life. I mean, seriously, is this me or what?

So you might think the quarantine has pushed me over the edge. Not really. I’ve just been a little raw lately. Unlike the brave health workers who go to their hospitals daily, experiencing horror and death, I’ve been able to have the luxury of distance from that harsh reality for some time. This month will mark the third anniversary of Michael’s death. I was at his side, holding his hand, in our own home. An event so unlike these tragedies I read about, when people drop their loved ones at emergency rooms and never see them again. How unbearable, as is so much in the news cycle. Since March, I’ve experienced three deaths. One was my dear friend, Julie, an expected loss, but the end of a 50 year relationship. Last week, I heard of another friend’s death, this one a more casual friend, the kind with whom you can have a nice chat when you run into each other. She died from Covid19 at only sixty-one. This week, it was a man I’d known since he was very young, a musician who worked in my husband’s music store, and was part of a circle of people who moved in and around the periphery of my world for four decades. Michael and I were invited to his first wedding, an alternative and off-beat affair. I watched him perform in his bands until eventually the 10 year gap between us, meant that I was chasing children around while he was still doing gigs. In the past few years, we’d reestablished contact and exchanged thoughts and music over social media. His death was by suicide at age 59. This tough month of May also contains the birthday of my best friend from childhood, another suicide who I still grieve after 32 years. Everything suddenly felt like too much. So I headed out to chase the clouds on a beautiful sunny day, trying to climb over the mounting pain from each end of life.

The endless changing cloud formations never bore me. Instead they make me feel more centered and conscious of my place in the world. After driving around for an hour, I headed back home to push a little further into my never ending list of things to do. I started with the garden, checking out the latest blooms and the ones getting ready to open. I always have some anxiety every spring as I know there will be losses due to who knows what. And then there’s the satisfaction of the reliable, familiar ones who come back each year. Now, given the always surprising Illinois weather, a polar vortex has been served up for tonight, with frost expected. I admired what plants already arrived, hoping they’d survive this night. The ones in pots, hanging baskets and raised beds cost me an hour of bundling them up as best I could, trying to make sure they have their best shot at seeing another day.

I was really happy that I’d restrained myself from repotting and putting my tropical miracle from last year outside to weather the elements. Last year, a friend of mine gave me a gorgeous plant called a Duranta Sapphire tree for my birthday, also this month. I showered it with care, pretty certain I’d kill it in this unpredictable environment. But it hung on. So I kept watering it until suddenly, it was November and still it survived. I thought that any plant that wanted to live so much deserved a chance, so I brought it into my house.  It’s still alive and soon I’ll repot it and bring it to the garden where I hope it will enjoy another glorious summer. Next I crossed the street to see how my kids’ new chickens were doing. The older hens had them boxed into a corner, making them perfect targets for a few photos.

After that, I went back home to work in the garage for a bit. I’ve made progress in there, finding some things that were easy to toss out and others that I’ll be keeping for a long time. A while back I wrote a blog called “The Soul of a Garage,” basically a commentary on how Michael’s presence was so palpable in there. I’m carving out my own space now,  although his hobbies and projects still emerge from the corners. Today was no exception. Michael was one of those guys who could do almost anything. In the old days before cars were so heavily computerized, he was always fixing carburetors, doing brakes, dealing with oil pans and lots of other stuff I can’t begin to name. So how great was it when I found his creeper and his coveralls? After wiping away some grime, the oak sheen of the creeper came shining through, along with the name of the company which produced it. I looked it up, The Anderson’s and found that it finally closed its doors in 2017. Because Michael was 6’4,” his auto mechanic coveralls were so long I could barely hang them up. But I used a garden tool and finally reached a hook. Those will stay in the garage.

I found one of his baseball bats. His glove is in the house. When he played softball for years with the High and Mighty team, his nickname was “Stick,” because he was such a reliable hitter. He loved that game, but years of swinging gave him a string of herniated disks and one back surgery. I also found his tackle box still filled with lures, reels, filleting knives and other gear. Every summer for many years, he and three buddies headed up to Nelson’s Resort In Minnesota, near the boundary waters, where they fished for walleye and northern pike. At night they played bridge. I always missed him when he was gone but they always had a great time and brought their trophies back for a fish fry.

I was feeling pretty good after hanging around in the garage. I’d cleaned, discarded old junk, found things worth keeping which brought good memories, and had gotten a bit over the top of a sad day. I decided to continue my newly recovered baking skills and went inside to do a banana bread. As I got my ingredients together, I cracked my first egg and got a double yolk. My mom always used to tell me that was a sign of good luck.    I assembled everything, put the bread in the oven and reflected on how my day’s choices were positive and had smoothed the rough edges off my sadness. By this time it was nearing dusk and I went back outside to snap a few shots of the lovely sky. When I came back inside, the bread was a warm golden brown and the house smelled and felt warm and homey. After dinner, I popped the computer open to catch up on social media and  the news.

On a mutual friend’s Facebook page, there was commentary on the man who’d committed suicide. Someone I didn’t know had written the question, “So is anyone else from the Record Service(my husband’s former business,) dead besides Nick and Michael? I felt like I’d been punched in the gut. This stranger couldn’t have known that I was a person who might read that line. I’m sure she didn’t know that the anniversary of Michael’s death is bearing down on me and my family. Reading her dispassionate, gossipy question threw a big bucket of cold water on my improved mood. I couldn’t imagine asking a question like that in a public forum because to me, it’s remarkably insensitive. And so is a lot of the world. Within seconds, I was back in my albatross dream. I am gliding away from any land mass, following the water. I hear no human voices saying thoughtless things. I can go for miles and miles with nothing but sky and clouds ahead and ocean below. Eventually I’ll get back to my mate, my mate for life. And beyond. Sounds like a plan to me. 

Albatross Dream People talk about their spirit animals. Or about which animal they’d be if there was really reincarnation.

[get-a-new-lease-on-life]

A New Lease on Life - 3: One Life Ends, Another Begins

Trigger Warnings: Trauma, intrusive memories, graphic imagery, language, dysfunctional relationships.

Suggested Listening: Seether “Hang On,” & “Same Damn Life”

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3: One Life Ends, Another Begins    

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April O'Neil’s apartment, January 27th, 2016              

Leo had been pacing for a good twenty minutes, Donatello mused blandly. From the living room window to the hallway, up the hallway to the bedroom door, from there to the kitchen, and back to the living room, over and over. At this rate, they’d owe April new flooring. Worried hazel-green eyes fixed on the sofa, their owner silently contemplating the strange woman slumped over half buried in an enormous yellow comforter. After the shocking revelation, she’d just stared into space, never even acknowledging another temper tantrum from Casey and several more accusations of deception. By the time Casey had calmed down again and tea was served, her shaking had stopped and a startling calm swept over her.

Over on the sofa, Amber silently read herself the riot act. Everything was becoming clearer by the moment. She died with only one regret and was somehow given a second chance but that second chance came with a price: the body she awoke in once housed a troublemaker, a Purple Dragon with no sense of modesty and a long rap sheet. On top of that, Amber found herself surrounded by people she’d believed fictional characters and had already pissed off one, two, maybe even three of them.

She shivered, dragging the blanket around herself like fluffy yellow armor. Donatello was adorable—so much more adorable than she’d expected! She knew for certain she’d never seen him depicted in coveralls and glasses when she was still alive, but deep in her heart, his appearance was familiar. After all, this was the Donnie she’d seen in her dreams for so many years. His confident smirk, his dry, tangy wit, the distinct scent of coffee and grease…even his eyes were just as she’d seen before, a unique shade of hazel that shifted with the lighting from green to gold. Those eyes of his had completely shut down all activity in her brain the first time they met hers.

What happened to Kimber, the previous owner of the body she now inhabited?

"Oh, God,” she blurted out suddenly. “I’m stuck in a dead chick’s body!” Everyone stared at her, alerting her to the fact that her brain-to-mouth filter had failed again. “Um, sorry. I must need'a get that brain-to-mouth filter cleaned or something.”

“Since you’re talking again,” Leonardo started without missing a beat. “Let’s get our facts straight.”

“Oh, boy,” Donnie mumbled, recognizing Leo’s stern tone; Amber showed no sign of discouragement, but the genius was sure his brother intended on a lecture she might not need. She seemed fragile - familiar in a way, but that fragility didn’t ring a bell.

“You keep referring to death,” Leo reminded bluntly. “Did you die, are you dead, etc…now you’re saying you’re ‘in a dead woman’s body.’” Amber could practically hear the air-quotes. “What’s with this fascination with death?” Donnie’s palm impacted his face with a loud slap and he shook his head in disbelief. Nice tact, Leo.

“You’re kidding me, right?” the stranger retorted dryly, burrowing even deeper into the comforter. “Do I look Goth? I’m not fascinated by death, I died. That damned window shattered, an'…an'….” Grey-green eyes watered and her throat clenched around the words she couldn’t yet reveal. “Aaron must be h-horrified that—that I died in a library. He always…h-hated…” Without preamble, she burst into frustrated tears. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she choked as though her reaction was cause for censure. “Just…gimme a minute…to…”

“Is this really necessary?” Donnie asked Leo bluntly; the eldest brother was practically interrogating the stranger and she was falling apart. Though he had no answers, the genius was inexplicably angered by his brother’s behavior - as though by making the strange woman cry, he hurt someone Donnie cared for - but he didn’t know this woman, how could he care about her?! “She—”

“I’m n-not a weakling,” Amber interrupted faintly, trembling even harder; unbidden, horrifying images flashed through her mind’s eye even as the familiar hazel pair focused on her.

Shattered glass. Crumpled metal. Crumbled buildings. Crows and vultures lurk in barren trees strewn with pulpy grey streamers.

“I can do this…”

Hollow window frames spiked with glassy teeth. Fallen phone lines sparking in the sodden roads. A jagged tear in the leaden sky mocks like a twisted grin.

“—I can!”

“O'course ya can, Kimbuh,” Casey accused condescendingly. “Ya’ve prob'ly rehearsed this to death a'ready.”

“For the las’ time, Casey,” Amber protested shrilly as she fought the onslaught of distressing memories. “My name’s Amber, not Kimber! I dunno what happened to Kimber, but I ain’t her!” He shot to his feet, looming menacingly over her.

“How ya gonna prove it den, huh?” he shouted. “Ya ain’t proven shit!”

“I can’t prove it!” she cried in frustration, surging to her feet. “There’s no way I can prove my innocence short'a dyne again, an’ dyne once wiz bad enough!”- Without preamble she shrugged off the blanket and stumbled to the door of April’s apartment, pausing only to yank her clunky black boots back on. All was silent as she hesitated in the doorway, fighting tears; she turned to Casey, halfway between angry and regretful. “For the record,” she muttered. “I’m sorry for any an’ all bullshite this Kimber’s pulled, an’ not jus’ 'cuz I’m gettin’ blamed for it.” Without another word, she slipped out the door.

The latch clicked like a gunshot in the still apartment, shattering the tense silence and pushing the occupants to action. “Casey, what were you thinking?” April asked, hitting him with a doghouse glare. “Now she’s all alone out there, and probably going to freeze to death, again.”

“Ape, ya dunno what dat bitch’s done,” Casey countered, itching to hit another wall. “Kimbuh’s Hun’s favorite messenger—he wants somethin’ done, he sends her. He wants someone won over, he sends her. He wants someone watched, he sends her—Anythin’ he wants done dat don’t need muscle, he sends her. She’s knee-deep in Shreddah, Sachs, an’ even da mafias’ business!” Another wall felt the wrath of his knuckles. “All she’s gotta do is flash dose tits an’ she gets'er way!”

“Funny. She seemed petrified when they were visible. –And quit hitting my walls!”

'Not one of my brighter moments,’ Amber thought to herself between violent shivers, huddling closer to the brick wall for protection from the wind. 'It was warm in there…an’ it’s freezing out here. O'Brien, if you die again, yer totally gettin’ a Darwin Award.’

“Cold?” The sudden voice at her shoulder launched her in the opposite direction with an unflattering shriek and she landed on her rump on the asphalt. Donnie seemed so smug leaning up against that dumpster, she thought with a hot blush…and he smelled amazing.

“The Hell, Dee?!” she hissed, rubbing her sore rear. “You scared the livin’ daylights out'a me!”

“What can I say?” he grinned. “Ninja. It’s what we do.” She blinked in surprise as a warm garment was draped around her shoulders—a familiar trench coat big enough to swallow her whole. She gratefully burrowed deep into the coffee-scented fabric and huddled between Donatello and the wall. “Casey thinks you’re lying, you know,” he continued off-handedly, pushing his glasses back up his nose out of habit. “April’s more frustrated than anything else. Leo’s playing peacemaker.”

“Sorry I’m so much trouble,” Amber mumbled into the coat’s popped collar. “It’s not like me to cause such a ruckus over nothing.”

“It’s not nothing, okay?” he half-scolded. “Casey’s always a hothead, but he’s taking this very personally for some reason.”

“Judging by the big fat dragon tattoo in my rack, I’m not surprised—he hates Purple Dragons and with good reason. I must'a built up some seriously bad karma to die an’ wake up in this body. If I didn’t know any better,” she added under her breath, “I’d think I spent my whole life kickin’ puppies.” Silence reigned for a while. When she looked up, she saw Donnie’s eyes fixed on hers in a serious, calculative stare. “What? I’ve never kicked a puppy, thank you very much; it’s a figure of speech.”

“There’s one thing I just can’t figure out.” A loud yell drew his eyes to April’s living room window; moments later he cringed as an even louder crash rang out followed by April shrieking at Casey. The two had an odd way of resolving conflict, he considered with a cringe, then he asked Amber, “How do you know us? April wouldn’t have told you anything without our okay, and Casey seems convinced you’re the spawn of Satan. So how’d you know?”

Now, Amber thought morbidly as she stared through his grease stained trousers, would be the time to tell him she was from another world, another reality—a reality where he, his brothers, and the rest were just fictional characters. If she were living in a fanfiction, she’d totally spill everything right here and now in this gritty, muck-slicked alley, and would happily spend the rest of her days in a flurry of coffee runs, neck rubs, and sweaty stolen moments with a certain terrapin genius. If she were living in a fanfiction, she’d be set…but she wasn’t a fanfiction character, and life was never that simple.

Aaron had hooked her on their story years ago when she was barely seventeen, but she’d seen Donnie in her dreams since she was only a child. She spent ages watching herself grow older while he and his brothers stubbornly remained teenagers in all canon sources. Every new grey hair Amber found was cursed with a thousand poxes and unfulfilled threats of shaving her head. Every birthday was spent buried up to her ears in fanfiction about people almost half her age and fan art featuring characters with size negative-fifteen waists. Every time she started to consider dating - instead of her usual habit of only seeking out temporary companionship when she couldn’t handle her body’s wants and needs - she woke drenched in sweat, clinging to steamy dreams of shifting hazel eyes, ridiculously adorable snorts, cheeky grins, and taunting reminders that she’d become hopelessly stuck on someone who didn’t even exist. Every time she relied on one-night stands to keep her libido under control, she struggled with guilt afterward - not because her family wouldn’t approve or because she was careless with protection, but because the Donnie in her Dreams didn’t approve.

She was a mess. She wasn’t some totally awesome fanfiction heroine thrown together with the turtle of her dreams simply to fulfill the bizarre notions of some mysterious author. She was a janitor, a college dropout with more gimp than grace, and even if she wasn’t frustrated as hell by years of nothing but DIY treatment, wet dreams, and impersonal booty-calls, she wasn’t aging gracefully at all. She was undeniably, irrefutably normal…and normal people got awkward sideways looks over admitting to crushing on fictional characters, especially if they somehow ran into said fictional characters. Never mind if said fictional character wasn’t fully human…

“Lucky guess?” she attempted sheepishly; the smirk in his eyes told her quite clearly that she’d been figured out. She wilted. “Fine, fine. If I told ya, I’d have to kill ya. Someone else told me, an’ whaddaya know? I died. Better?” He laughed lowly, shaking his head at her.

“You’re a nut,” he grinned, ambling toward April’s fire escape. “C'mon, I’m freezin’ my shell off out here.” No sooner had they reached the window, though, a lamp went sailing past, shattering into shrapnel against the wall. Before they could so much as duck the window flew open and Leonardo sprung from the window to the metal grating, eyes wide with fear.

“Run,” he warned as he dashed up to the roof evading another chorus of shouting. Amber cringed before the window, watching the flurry of thrown objects.

“Why do I get the feelin’ they’ve got a 'Bed of Nails’ relationship?” she mused aloud. Not a moment later, she uttered a surprised squeak when she found herself slung over Donatello’s shoulder in a fireman’s carry and staring down at the roof.

“Alice Creeper?” he clarified as they took off over the rooftop. “Hold on tight!”

“No, Alice -YAH!” A little late, she muffled her shriek in his neck. “Did I mention I really, really hate heights?” she mumbled. “Where’re we goin’?”

“Home,” Leo answered gravely. Amber screwed her eyes shut, retreating into Donnie’s warm collar, wondering just when her life became so cliché. She was killed by the one thing she spent her whole life fearing, woke up younger, thinner, and with a major dying-hangover, and now she was being carried off to the sewers like some hopeless heroine. Granted, she had a second chance with the turtle of her dreams - a second chance she never admitted wanting! - but this situation had disaster written all over it.

'Oh well,’ she thought tiredly, sure her fingernails were going to leave permanent gouges in Donatello’s canvas-draped carapace. 'I died, so who’s to say I’m NOT a hopeless heroine now? My life ended with the beginning of another; the least I can do is enjoy the ride…an’ not toss my cookies all over Donnie’s shell.’

NOTE

- Dyne once wiz bad enough! - 'Dying once was bad enough,’ wiz being a phonetic pronunciation of the Scottish pronunciation of was. Compare Dyin’ - Dyne to her odd pronunciation of O'Brien as O'Brine.

   Up next: The Truth     

     Chapter List

[ghost-chance]

A New Lease on Life - 3: One Life Ends, Another Begins

Trigger Warnings: Trauma, intrusive memories, graphic imagery, language, dysfunctional relationships.

Suggested Listening: Seether "Hang On," & "Same Damn Life”

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3: One Life Ends, Another Begins   

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April O'Neil's apartment, January 27th, 2016              

Leo had been pacing for a good twenty minutes, Donatello mused blandly. From the living room window to the hallway, up the hallway to the bedroom door, from there to the kitchen, and back to the living room, over and over. At this rate, they'd owe April new flooring. Worried hazel-green eyes fixed on the sofa, their owner silently contemplating the strange woman slumped over half buried in an enormous yellow comforter. After the shocking revelation, she'd just stared into space, never even acknowledging another temper tantrum from Casey and several more accusations of deception. By the time Casey had calmed down again and tea was served, her shaking had stopped and a startling calm swept over her.

Over on the sofa, Amber silently read herself the riot act. Everything was becoming clearer by the moment. She died with only one regret and was somehow given a second chance but that second chance came with a price: the body she awoke in once housed a troublemaker, a Purple Dragon with no sense of modesty and a long rap sheet. On top of that, Amber found herself surrounded by people she'd believed fictional characters and had already pissed off one, two, maybe even three of them.

She shivered, dragging the blanket around herself like fluffy yellow armor. Donatello was adorable—so much more adorable than she'd expected! She knew for certain she'd never seen him depicted in coveralls and glasses when she was still alive, but deep in her heart, his appearance was familiar. After all, this was the Donnie she'd seen in her dreams for so many years. His confident smirk, his dry, tangy wit, the distinct scent of coffee and grease…even his eyes were just as she'd seen before, a unique shade of hazel that shifted with the lighting from green to gold. Those eyes of his had completely shut down all activity in her brain the first time they met hers.

What happened to Kimber, the previous owner of the body she now inhabited?

"Oh, God," she blurted out suddenly. "I'm stuck in a dead chick's body!" Everyone stared at her, alerting her to the fact that her brain-to-mouth filter had failed again. "Um, sorry. I must need'a get that brain-to-mouth filter cleaned or something."

"Since you're talking again," Leonardo started without missing a beat. "Let's get our facts straight."

"Oh, boy," Donnie mumbled, recognizing Leo's stern tone; Amber showed no sign of discouragement, but the genius was sure his brother intended on a lecture she might not need. She seemed fragile - familiar in a way, but that fragility didn't ring a bell.

"You keep referring to death," Leo reminded bluntly. "Did you die, are you dead, etc...now you're saying you're 'in a dead woman's body.'" Amber could practically hear the air-quotes. "What's with this fascination with death?" Donnie's palm impacted his face with a loud slap and he shook his head in disbelief. Nice tact, Leo.

"You're kidding me, right?" the stranger retorted dryly, burrowing even deeper into the comforter. "Do I look Goth? I'm not fascinated by death, I died. That damned window shattered, an'…an'…." Grey-green eyes watered and her throat clenched around the words she couldn't yet reveal. "Aaron must be h-horrified that—that I died in a library. He always…h-hated…" Without preamble, she burst into frustrated tears. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she choked as though her reaction was cause for censure. "Just…gimme a minute…to…"

"Is this really necessary?" Donnie asked Leo bluntly; the eldest brother was practically interrogating the stranger and she was falling apart. Though he had no answers, the genius was inexplicably angered by his brother's behavior - as though by making the strange woman cry, he hurt someone Donnie cared for - but he didn't know this woman, how could he care about her?! "She—"

"I'm n-not a weakling," Amber interrupted faintly, trembling even harder; unbidden, horrifying images flashed through her mind's eye even as the familiar hazel pair focused on her.

Shattered glass. Crumpled metal. Crumbled buildings. Crows and vultures lurk in barren trees strewn with pulpy grey streamers.

"I can do this…"

Hollow window frames spiked with glassy teeth. Fallen phone lines sparking in the sodden roads. A jagged tear in the leaden sky mocks like a twisted grin.

"—I can!"

"O'course ya can, Kimbuh," Casey accused condescendingly. "Ya've prob'ly rehearsed this to death a'ready."

"For the las' time, Casey," Amber protested shrilly as she fought the onslaught of distressing memories. "My name's Amber, not Kimber! I dunno what happened to Kimber, but I ain't her!" He shot to his feet, looming menacingly over her.

"How ya gonna prove it den, huh?" he shouted. "Ya ain't proven shit!"

"I can't prove it!" she cried in frustration, surging to her feet. "There's no way I can prove my innocence short'a dyne again, an' dyne once wiz bad enough!"- Without preamble she shrugged off the blanket and stumbled to the door of April's apartment, pausing only to yank her clunky black boots back on. All was silent as she hesitated in the doorway, fighting tears; she turned to Casey, halfway between angry and regretful. "For the record," she muttered. "I'm sorry for any an' all bullshite this Kimber's pulled, an' not jus' 'cuz I'm gettin' blamed for it." Without another word, she slipped out the door.

The latch clicked like a gunshot in the still apartment, shattering the tense silence and pushing the occupants to action. "Casey, what were you thinking?" April asked, hitting him with a doghouse glare. "Now she's all alone out there, and probably going to freeze to death, again."

"Ape, ya dunno what dat bitch's done," Casey countered, itching to hit another wall. "Kimbuh's Hun's favorite messenger—he wants somethin' done, he sends her. He wants someone won over, he sends her. He wants someone watched, he sends her—Anythin' he wants done dat don't need muscle, he sends her. She's knee-deep in Shreddah, Sachs, an' even da mafias' business!" Another wall felt the wrath of his knuckles. "All she's gotta do is flash dose tits an' she gets'er way!"

"Funny. She seemed petrified when they were visible. --And quit hitting my walls!"

'Not one of my brighter moments,' Amber thought to herself between violent shivers, huddling closer to the brick wall for protection from the wind. 'It was warm in there…an' it's freezing out here. O'Brien, if you die again, yer totally gettin' a Darwin Award.'

"Cold?" The sudden voice at her shoulder launched her in the opposite direction with an unflattering shriek and she landed on her rump on the asphalt. Donnie seemed so smug leaning up against that dumpster, she thought with a hot blush...and he smelled amazing.

"The Hell, Dee?!" she hissed, rubbing her sore rear. "You scared the livin' daylights out'a me!"

"What can I say?" he grinned. "Ninja. It's what we do." She blinked in surprise as a warm garment was draped around her shoulders—a familiar trench coat big enough to swallow her whole. She gratefully burrowed deep into the coffee-scented fabric and huddled between Donatello and the wall. "Casey thinks you're lying, you know," he continued off-handedly, pushing his glasses back up his nose out of habit. "April's more frustrated than anything else. Leo's playing peacemaker."

"Sorry I'm so much trouble," Amber mumbled into the coat's popped collar. "It's not like me to cause such a ruckus over nothing."

"It's not nothing, okay?" he half-scolded. "Casey's always a hothead, but he's taking this very personally for some reason."

"Judging by the big fat dragon tattoo in my rack, I'm not surprised—he hates Purple Dragons and with good reason. I must'a built up some seriously bad karma to die an' wake up in this body. If I didn't know any better," she added under her breath, "I'd think I spent my whole life kickin' puppies." Silence reigned for a while. When she looked up, she saw Donnie's eyes fixed on hers in a serious, calculative stare. "What? I've never kicked a puppy, thank you very much; it's a figure of speech."

"There's one thing I just can't figure out." A loud yell drew his eyes to April's living room window; moments later he cringed as an even louder crash rang out followed by April shrieking at Casey. The two had an odd way of resolving conflict, he considered with a cringe, then he asked Amber, "How do you know us? April wouldn't have told you anything without our okay, and Casey seems convinced you're the spawn of Satan. So how'd you know?"

Now, Amber thought morbidly as she stared through his grease stained trousers, would be the time to tell him she was from another world, another reality—a reality where he, his brothers, and the rest were just fictional characters. If she were living in a fanfiction, she'd totally spill everything right here and now in this gritty, muck-slicked alley, and would happily spend the rest of her days in a flurry of coffee runs, neck rubs, and sweaty stolen moments with a certain terrapin genius. If she were living in a fanfiction, she'd be set…but she wasn't a fanfiction character, and life was never that simple.

Aaron had hooked her on their story years ago when she was barely seventeen, but she'd seen Donnie in her dreams since she was only a child. She spent ages watching herself grow older while he and his brothers stubbornly remained teenagers in all canon sources. Every new grey hair Amber found was cursed with a thousand poxes and unfulfilled threats of shaving her head. Every birthday was spent buried up to her ears in fanfiction about people almost half her age and fan art featuring characters with size negative-fifteen waists. Every time she started to consider dating - instead of her usual habit of only seeking out temporary companionship when she couldn't handle her body's wants and needs - she woke drenched in sweat, clinging to steamy dreams of shifting hazel eyes, ridiculously adorable snorts, cheeky grins, and taunting reminders that she'd become hopelessly stuck on someone who didn't even exist. Every time she relied on one-night stands to keep her libido under control, she struggled with guilt afterward - not because her family wouldn't approve or because she was careless with protection, but because the Donnie in her Dreams didn't approve.

She was a mess. She wasn't some totally awesome fanfiction heroine thrown together with the turtle of her dreams simply to fulfill the bizarre notions of some mysterious author. She was a janitor, a college dropout with more gimp than grace, and even if she wasn't frustrated as hell by years of nothing but DIY treatment, wet dreams, and impersonal booty-calls, she wasn't aging gracefully at all. She was undeniably, irrefutably normal…and normal people got awkward sideways looks over admitting to crushing on fictional characters, especially if they somehow ran into said fictional characters. Never mind if said fictional character wasn't fully human...

"Lucky guess?" she attempted sheepishly; the smirk in his eyes told her quite clearly that she'd been figured out. She wilted. "Fine, fine. If I told ya, I'd have to kill ya. Someone else told me, an' whaddaya know? I died. Better?" He laughed lowly, shaking his head at her.

"You're a nut," he grinned, ambling toward April's fire escape. "C'mon, I'm freezin' my shell off out here." No sooner had they reached the window, though, a lamp went sailing past, shattering into shrapnel against the wall. Before they could so much as duck the window flew open and Leonardo sprung from the window to the metal grating, eyes wide with fear.

"Run," he warned as he dashed up to the roof evading another chorus of shouting. Amber cringed before the window, watching the flurry of thrown objects.

"Why do I get the feelin' they've got a 'Bed of Nails' relationship?" she mused aloud. Not a moment later, she uttered a surprised squeak when she found herself slung over Donatello's shoulder in a fireman's carry and staring down at the roof.

"Alice Creeper?" he clarified as they took off over the rooftop. "Hold on tight!"

"No, Alice -YAH!" A little late, she muffled her shriek in his neck. "Did I mention I really, really hate heights?" she mumbled. "Where're we goin'?"

"Home," Leo answered gravely. Amber screwed her eyes shut, retreating into Donnie's warm collar, wondering just when her life became so cliché. She was killed by the one thing she spent her whole life fearing, woke up younger, thinner, and with a major dying-hangover, and now she was being carried off to the sewers like some hopeless heroine. Granted, she had a second chance with the turtle of her dreams - a second chance she never admitted wanting! - but this situation had disaster written all over it.

'Oh well,' she thought tiredly, sure her fingernails were going to leave permanent gouges in Donatello's canvas-draped carapace. 'I died, so who's to say I'm NOT a hopeless heroine now? My life ended with the beginning of another; the least I can do is enjoy the ride…an' not toss my cookies all over Donnie's shell.'

NOTE

- Dyne once wiz bad enough! - 'Dying once was bad enough,' wiz being a phonetic pronunciation of the Scottish pronunciation of was. Compare Dyin' - Dyne to her odd pronunciation of O'Brien as O'Brine.

   Up next: The Truth       

                        .

[toogaytowrite]

I Met The Devil

So, I work at this rinky dink hole in the wall bar in Texas. Everyone just calls it the Spur. Even I don't know if it has a real name beyond that. When I say this place is in the middle of nowhere, I mean the middle of the flatlands, where you can drive for an hour and see nothing but pump jacks. Oilfield worker is about the only job you can get out here, so the patronage is comprised of rowdy good ol boys, coveralls stained with black oil and stinking to high heaven. Sometimes they bring their wives, most of them come here to avoid their wives.

It gets busy on the weekends- it's the only place to get a drink for miles after all. Other times its basically empty. Very few people will drive out here on a Tuesday evening to drink alone. I've spent a lot of my shifts just flipping through the channels on the tv above the bar or dumping spare change into the jukebox. Just me and the bright blinking light outside. Thing gives me a headache, but when it goes dark for a few seconds, rotating through the light bulbs, the outside is pitch black. You pretty much rely on the thing to see at night, so you're thankful for it when you're trying to find your car keys.

Anyway, it was a Monday and everything had slowed to a complete crawl, compared to the ruckus of Saturday and Sunday night. Just me, once again, sitting behind the bar, with no one but the late night televangelists to keep me company. Some old guy just reading bible passages and explaining them. It was either that or infomercials, even the television nightlife is non-existent here. Why the owner keeps the place open on weekdays, well, your guess is a good as mine. We barely make enough money to keep that big ass light outside on.

Normally, you hear the cars pull up before the tinkle of the bells on the door. Again, we are in the middle of bumfuck nowhere, and the nearest house is several miles away. Way too far for anyone to walk. The purr of engines and tires on gravel are the warnings I get that a customer is coming in. It gives me a chance to put on my bubbly bar girl face, otherwise I'm thoroughly checked out.

I heard the bells first. I didn't think that was much cause for alarm, just that I must have been having one of my boredom induced out of body experiences and missed the car noises. That, or after three years working here, I'd finally found the man crazy enough to walk ten miles of dirt road to get a stiff drink. The guy that came in was a face I hadn't seen before. Late forties, a little salt in his pepper, he looked like the older men in those commercials for 'enhancement' pills.

Anyway, he wasn't half bad looking. I've never been into the Dukes of Hazzard types that occupied the bar, and having some minor daddy issues has contributed to my major kink in older guys. He took a seat at the bar and I fumbled to look like I wasn't a slob, tuck my hair back into a ponytail, stuff my shirt back into my jeans, casually give myself a sniff to make sure my twelve hour melon scented deodorant was still doing its job. I smelled something weird, but I couldn't tell if it was me or the new guy. Must have been him.

He ordered a scotch half a second before I asked what he'd like. I wasn't even sure if we had any top shelf stuff like that, considering most of our income was made off of shitty watered down beer. We did, and he thanked me when I set his glass on a coaster in front of him. At this point, the preacher on tv had reached the part of his sermon where he demonized “heathen sodomites” and the crowd were shouting amens. I asked if he wanted to watch something else (as if there was anything else to watch), he just smiled and shook his head. Told me it was fine and called me darling. I muted it anyway- the preacher's flapping jowls were getting on my nerves.

“You know he touches kids.” His words caught me a little offguard, but as I possess a notoriously dark sense of humor, I laughed anyway. Partly because I found it funny, mostly out of surprise for the out of the blue statement.

“Yeah, they all do,” I said. He gestured with his glass to an alter boy on the corner of the stage, who the camera never lingered long on.

“He takes that one up to room, has him sit naked on the bed. Thinks as long as he doesn't touch himself then it's not an affront to God.”

I chuckled- I wasn't sure what else to say to that other than, “Yeah. Heh.” and pretend like I had work to do. I ducked behind the bar, acting like I was grabbing a drink so I could let my mouth hang open in shock, mouth “oh my God” to myself, then took a moment to regain my composure before I came back up. How does someone even react to that? That was too dark, even for me. When my head poked back up, he'd set a few bills on the counter, and was smirking at me. Thinking about that look still makes my hair stand on end.

“Share a drink with me.”

I reached for any excuse I could think of, and there were quite a few I could have given. It was against the rules to drink on the job, for one, for two, he had seriously thrown me with the kid diddling anecdote, and for three, I don't share drinks with guys I just met. But he moved his hand a little, and it was then I saw Benjamin Franklin's pursed lip stare looking up at me from the face of a hundred dollar bill. I've done a lot worse for a tip that big. I popped the cap off the least alcoholic beer I could find and our glasses clinked together. He drank deeply from his cup, I only took a cautious sip of mine.

We talked. He seemed nice, a far cry from the types I'm used to around these parts. He didn't once slip into a rant about Muslims, spit chewing tobacco down the neck of my bottle, and I got the impression he didn't have a single Confederate flag bumper sticker on his car or “Pro Life, Pro God, Pro Guns, Palin for VP” shirt in his wardrobe. He was downright charming. I even made him laugh a few times.

I'd almost forgotten about the preacher comment by the time he turned his attention back to the television.

He was still yapping about something, literally thumping his bible as he lectured on the evils of the world. Whenever his gaze ventured off camera, I had to wonder what he was looking at- was it a member of the audience or the little boy, standing motionless as a statue on stage with him?

The next words out of his mouth were, “What do you think is a good punishment for child molesters?” I nearly shot beer out of my nose. I covered my mouth before I sprayed it all over his face and forced myself to swallow. I asked why he wanted to know. He simply shrugged. “Curiosity. Humor me.”

I didn't have to think about it long. “Chemical castration has always been a favorite of mine.”

“Even that's too good for them,” he said. Those were pretty much the exact words I had in mind, but didn't want to say, on the off chance they made me sound bitter or spiteful. Which I'll admit, I am.

“Short of spending their entire lives in prison, getting their salads tossed by someone bigger than them, the only truly fitting punishment I can think of is if they eat a bullet. He could fall off stage right now and break his own neck in front of his flock. My mom used to say they deserve to get a railroad spike driven through their dicks and pushed backwards.”

“Kary must have a colorful imagination.”

Now, my mother's name is Karyn. Everyone calls her Karyn. She's got a hardon for authority and being in control, so she makes sure everyone practices the formality of calling her Karyn. The only people in this world who call my mother Kary are my father and the friends she's had since high school.

Naturally I wanted to know how he knew this.

“Because I'm the Devil.” He said with such casual sincerity, I could only stare blankly at him. When no chuckle or “aha gotcha” moment came, I could only scoff something that almost sounded like a laugh and pull my beer closer to myself. He didn't seem the type to slip something into my drink, but if those kinds of guys looked like the date rapists they were, they would be a hell of a lot easier to avoid. Anyone who just claimed to the Devil had to be some kind of crazy, right? My paranoia was pretty damn merited I think.

“Yeah, and I'm a Mesopotamian death goddess.”

“Well, it's nice to formally make your acquaintance, Nergal.” He downed the rest of his scotch and stood. Let me just say, claiming you're the Devil is not the weirdest thing a drunk guy has told me in that bar. Doesn't even crack the top ten. Of all the drunk sputum I've overheard in my years working there, this, while unsettling, was not that bad in comparison to the time a guy started crying over a bowl of salted pretzels because of something to do with bread yeast. I was fully prepared to brush it off as just him screwing with me, but I don't know. Something in his eyes made me question it. Now, whether I believe in all that fire and brimstone crap, I have to wonder.

He took my hand and shook it. “You're a good kid, Laura. Thanks for indulging me.”

I don't wear a nametag. I hadn't told him my name either. If he knew my mother's nickname, it wasn't that much of a leap to think he might know mine as well, but I instantly prickled. I thought he must have stalked me to learn these things. What other explanation did I have?

As he turned to leave and I opened my mouth to speak, the TV's sound came blaring back into existence, at a much higher volume than when I'd muted it. The sound hit my ears like speakers screeching on either side of my head. I dove for the remote to turn it down as the preacher pounded his bible on the podium with the force of a judge banging his gavel.

“We are all sinners!” He cried. “We are unworthy of God's love, we have not earned it! We do not seek it! On this planet of six billion lives, do you think the almighty cares for you ants? You spineless microbes? There is only one force on this earth that gives a damn whether we live or die, and folks, I would like to introduce you to him tonight.” It sounded, it looked nothing like the man I'd been watching only an hour ago, before the stranger arrived. There was the same feverish passion, but the way he moved. No longer was he strutting the stage with that Man of God swagger, like nothing in the world could harm him because he had God's love protecting him. He sloshed around like a drunk. Like a doll on the strings of a careless puppeteer. And he laughed.

He wouldn't stop laughing- this high pitched, hyena laughter that settled a chill in your bones. I've never heard a man make that sound before or since then. He threw his back in an almost grotesque contortion as his entire body shook with laughter. I heard something that, looking back now, I think might have been his spine popping into the mic. He drew in one long breath at the end of this laughing fit. He exhaled. There was a moment of stillness, where even the crowd's murmurs hushed.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he began. It wasn't his voice either. It was no one voice. It was like a dozen speaking in perfect unison. He calmly reached up to his mic stand and with one sharp twist, unscrewed the microphone and the clip holding it in place, leaving the metal exposed. “I'll see you all in Hell.”

He dropped the microphone and drove the pipe straight into his skull. The wet squelch as it skewered through his left eyeball and sunk deep into his skull grew distant when the mic fell and thumped to the floor. It was only there for a millisecond, but its a sound I'll never forget.

The camera twisted off kilter, the crew rushed the stage, the silhouettes of the crowd as they shot out of their seats in a panic obscured most of the scene. And he was laughing. Even as he collapsed to the ground, fingers still white knuckled around the metal, he was laughing. I felt nausea hit me almost instantly. Blood pooled around his head, but I could only see flashes in between all the people flocking to his side to tend to him. Like they could do anything to help. He laughed, he thrashed, he went still. I could no longer hear laughter behind the screaming crowd pleading for God, God help him, oh Lord why. The bells pulled me away from the screen long enough to see the stranger's back vanish through the door. I ran after him, your guess is as good as mine what I could have done if I caught up. Though I was little more than a few feet behind him, by the time I wrenched the door open and threw myself outside, he was halfway across the parking lot. He was near the road. The eyesore lights burned brightly, reaching their peak, then went dark at the single most inopportune time. In that short beat of complete darkness, all I could hear was that gut wrenching off air shriek as the televangelist's channel cut the feed. When the lights flicked back to life, he was gone. There was nothing but miles of flatland and the few distant dots of pump jacks.

The next day I saw the preacher's face gracing a newspaper at the gas station. The local paper had only good things to say about him, calling his death a tragedy, calling him an inspiration of faith, but a cursory search online found several articles citing the discovery of his child pornography ring as the possible reason for his public suicide. Turns out the police found an external hard drive in his office with well over a thousand pictures of kids in compromising positions. Twelve victims, reports said. Obviously they can't release names, but I can't get that alter boy's hollow eyes out of my mind. I'm almost sure he must have been one of them.

Haven't seen Mr Devil since then. No one at the Spur believes me, and my mom just wrote him off a crazy person when I spoke to her about it. Hell, if I didn't have the news clippings to prove at least part of it happened, I would think I nodded off on the job and had some crazy dream. It happened. And sometimes, when I sit and turn over everything I saw that night, (which is often) I can smell that odd scent again. It goes right to my head as if he was standing right in front me. I couldn't place it then, but the more I think about it, the more I start to realize that the stranger in the bar that night smelled like something burning.

I can't say what. I'm not sure I want to know.