#Silver: None! *Psychic Squeeze*

[one-half-guy]

Scourge: Hey, Silver, if you are from the future, how many punches will I hit you today?

[theflashdriver]

Out of Body, Out of Mind: Chapter 1 (A Silvaze Fanfic)

"Next time you two visit, it better not be to stop another Eggman attack!" The crushing bearhug of one Amy Rose served to emphasise a point that she had already made a half dozen times today, "Or an ancient monster emerging or aliens invading... or a wizard's mind control, or evil doppelgangers, or a ghost tornado, or-

"Amy, I think they get the point. Squeeze them any longer and they won't live to leave, let alone return," Sonic piped up from somewhere out of view.

"I'm just making sure they understand, darling," A singsong tone entered the pink hedgehog's voice, "To see my blue blur turned green with envy; if you wanted a hug that badly you only had to ask."

Blaze stumbled as she was released, straightening her jacket as she steadied herself. Her companion within the hammer-wielder's vice-like grip wasn't quite so prepared, only just psychically catching himself before he could tumble to the ground. The cat couldn't help but smirk as he wobbled to right himself and land beside her; this past week had certainly been one to remember.

What had begun with her and Silver crossing space and time to fend off a surprise attack from an empowered Metal Sonic had stretched into a two week long stay with their friends. While the initial days had been focused on recuperating following the battle, soon the pair of them had been dragged into hijinks ranging from movie nights to visits to Twinkle Park and museums. From sharing Amy's pull out couch to overnight stays in hotels, these past days had brought with them a certain undeniable freedom. It'd all ended with a final campout up on Angel Island. She was glad that she'd allowed herself to relax, even if it had taken a few dozen pleading looks from the time traveller to her right.

"Hey, Knuckles! Stop letting Rouge distract you, we need to get them home before there's some sort of multidimensional fallout or something!" Sonic called as he raced past, Amy still in pursuit.

"I really don't think that's likely," Tails piped up to strike down Sonic's teasing, "As long as Blaze keeps-

"She's not distracting me; she's trying to steal the Master Emerald and none of you are helping!" The echidna roared.

"Aww, come on Big Red, don't be like that," Blaze turned to find the bat hovering, elbows atop the great green gem as she stared down at the flustered guardian, "I just love watching you work, that's all."

"Get off, I'm trying to perform a ritual!" Knuckles insisted from his cross legged position before the Master Emerald, "If I mess this up, anything could happen; to them or us."

"If something goes wrong, we'll be able to handle it," The psychic hedgehog reached out a hand and Sonic came to a sudden halt, only to be immediately leapt upon by Amy.

"Yes, we're more than prepared to face whatever comes our way," Seizing the moment of stillness Silver's juvenile choice had induced, the cat raised her voice, "Thank you for the time you have afforded us to recuperate. I swear that when we next return it will be under less troubling circumstances."

"That's a pretty stiff way to say you'll visit sometime the world isn't ending," Sonic snorted, now swept up in Amy's arms, "But a promise is a promise; we'll take it."

"Or maybe we could visit your world instead," That idea seemed to put a sparkle in Amy's eyes, "We could have a beach day, or go sailing!"

"I will see what I can arrange," Blaze swallowed, trying not to think about the great social barrier which was her royal status.

"I'd love to visit the future sometime and see all the new technology," Tails proposed.

"Oh, um, sure, maybe at some point," Silver not so subtly floundered, plainly trying not to remind the young fox of the various apocalypses he endlessly faced in his time, "Knuckles, are you ready for us?"

"I think I am," He called down, "Come on up, push away batgirl if you can."

"Fine Knuckie, I know when I'm not wanted," The bat rolled her eyes, taking to the sky.

"Whatever," He grumped, "Have a nice flight."

"Try not to miss me too badly," She blew a kiss his way as she took off higher, "I'll be back before you know it."

The grumbling of the red echidna continued, even after she was out of view and the pair of them had scaled the altar. Despite his bashfulness, the guardian lowered his head and reached out toward the great stone with open palms. His muttering had turned from the topic of Rouge to that of prayer like chanting, calling upon the great gem's power. A green tint began to fill the cat's vision, she saw sparks crack to crease the air and felt weightlessness spread across her body. The moment was almost upon them.

"Guys! That's us going, I think!" Silver called down toward the giggling hedgehog pair and fox tinkering with his tablet, "Try to stay safe, keep an eye out for the next attack!"

Blaze elbowed the hedgehog's side, subtly really wasn't one of his strong suits, "Until we meet again, I-

"Knuckles, you need to stop!" Rouge's shout cut the cat off.

"What is it now Rouge, I'm almost-

Blaze's ears spiked high but energy had already encased her, both she and Silver were floating against their own wills. The cat tried to turn but found herself unable to do more than peer over her shoulder as Sonic, Tails and Amy began to run up the altar toward them. Blaze only managed to see what happened out of the corner of her eye. Rouge grabbed Knuckles by the shoulders and flew, forcing him away from his work just as a shadow cast over the master emerald.

The once green energy around them flared a blinding white as their transportation was interrupted. A giant metal mass, like a grasping yellow and red claw, crashed onto the massive emerald and reduced it to shards which flew straight past them. The last thing Blaze saw was an orange Eggman insignia before her vision became a blur of white and blue. The cat felt herself falling; endlessly tumbling head over tail in a swirling void like intangible foamy seawater!

She held onto her breath for fear it would be her last. Fingers desperately clawed out into the space around her, hoping to grasp onto anything! This sight wasn't uncommon, she'd been tossed like this when travelling dimensions before, but usually it lasted mere moments. This was more, how long has passed already!?

Something touched her hand; she couldn't see through this endless swirl but something had brushed her right hand! The guardian flailed out in the hope that it was her partner, reaching and stretching with all her might in an attempt to latch onto something. Fingers met her wrist and hers coiled onto another in kind. She knew that feeling, calloused fingertips and a chunky metal bracelet. It was him, she had-

No, he wasn't holding her right hand, he was holding her left. Was she just so imbalanced in this tumbling space that she'd lost track of right and left? Regardless, she had him- they had each other. This couldn't go on forever, they'd arrive somewhere, they had to land somewhere!

She tried to focus on the Sol Emeralds, tried to harness her inherent connection to them, but her head started to ache. Everything felt wrong, from her left to her right to her tongue in her mouth and the weight across her body. This was all going wrong and her lungs were burning, she had to take a breath but there was no hope of air.

As she gasped the world around her began to darken. First the white faded from amongst the sky blue it was mixed with, then that blue faded indigo. Whether it was her body now failing her or the end of their travels she had no idea; but she held tighter onto Silver as that indigo faded to black.

Then, with no more than a blink, Blaze saw white again. Her whole body felt heavy and her mouth felt dry, it took a few more moments of just lying there and blinking to recognise that the white above her was no void. It was a cloudy sky. There was grass to her back. A cool wind was blowing.

She shut her eyes, her shoulders and back were aching, had the fall agitated the wounds from the fight those weeks ago? Blaze was certain she'd fully healed, that she was ready to face whatever came next. Well, regardless of her state, they had to get back and help their friends. That surprise attack could easily have been the next calamity set to destroy their world.

Blaze clenched her left hand and did still feel that she was holding her partner's right. No matter where they both were, whether they were still in Silver's past or they had made it to her dimension, they were still together. They could get out of this. They could fix this.

Wait, no. Something was wrong. Silver's fingers weren't as slender as the set she was feeling now. There was no thick metal band at the wrist of this hand. She felt a psychic static as their palms creased over each other's but something felt different, something felt wrong. Regardless of who she was lying next to, they weren't moving. Something had to be-

Blaze rose from her lying position, sitting up and turning, only to find herself staring down at a white furred muzzle on an otherwise purple furred face. A red gemstone was centred on the form's forehead and their hair was in a tall raised ponytail. The lying figure wore a purple long coat, white tights and heeled shoes. That form was her own body; Blaze was looking down at herself.

A hand was holding hers; a hand attached to a white furred forearm, itself wearing a great golden cuff. Silver's hand. A hand she had just raised before her face, the one she was seeing out of right now, and looked to find it was attached to her body. Something had gone terribly wrong, but she had to know the full story, she had to confirm it all.

Leaning over, feeling stiffness in her shoulders, Blaze pushed a hand to the neck of her prior body and felt a pulse plainly beating. Amber eyes flickered open as she leaned over, a daze marred that form's face followed by a rather uncouth bellowing yawn. By that alone Blaze had her suspicions but she had to confirm it; it wasn't safe. Her hands came down heavy and hard against her own body's shoulders, jolting the recently unconscious form into a more awake state.

"Silver, is that you?" She barked down.

"I'm Silver, yes... but you're..." Realisation seemed to grip the individual, panic entered their eyes, "Who are you? What are you doing-

"No, that's not enough. Eggman attacked as we were leaving, I need to be certain that you are you," Anything could have happened while they were falling between dimensions, whether that was part of the doctor's plans or otherwise.

"Blaze?" The imposter blinked, perhaps putting this together as she had, "Okay, yes, I am Silver... how do I prove I'm Silver? How do you prove you're Blaze?"

"We have time together we can draw upon that no one else should recall, there would be no records of it. If we use that, then I will have every confidence that you are Silver in my body," The form beneath her still looked unsure, so Blaze opted to open, "Ask me a question from that time, one which only I would know the answer to."

This had in itself actually been a ploy, an effort to get some extra affirmation through not letting this potential imposter use her question to scramble for one in turn.

"How did you explain the Chaos Emeralds to me when we first found one?" The form beneath her asked.

"I told you they were good luck charms," That question was sufficient, a clear moment with an obvious answer... but Blaze had to be sure, "Where did I find you after we were first sent to the past, when Mephiles separated us?"

"By a dock in Soleanna, on some stairs near the water," Blunt regret entered her prior body's eyes as the tale continued, "There were boats there, I was looking out over the water. It was after I'd tried to kill Sonic for the first time. Amy had stopped me..."

Blaze slackened her grip as relief flooded through her, "I'm glad it's you in there Silver... but I don't know what we're going to do."

"Where are," His speech came to a sudden stop, his brows furrowed, "Ow..."

"What happened, are you okay?" Panic for both her partner and her body swept through Blaze as she scanned for the source of the pain.

"I'm fine, I just bit my tongue," He grumbled, "Your teeth really are sharp..."

As he raised a hand to his cheek, a flash of orange and fresh terror swept over the now hedgehog. Flames were dancing along feline fingers as a cheek was rubbed- the very power Blaze had spent so many years learning to control and hone were now in the hands of a total novice. Ever so quickly the monarch pushed the cat's hand from his face and pinned it into the grass next to him, mirroring that manoeuvre on the other side. Remembering what Silver himself had done in times before, she concentrated on the burning hand only to watch as a cyan pulse blew the flames away. Had it always been that easy for him?

"We need to get you somewhere safe," She insisted, eyes now flickering to her surroundings, "Then we can figure this out. I'm certain we can find a way to fix this."

Blaze quickly recognised just where they were; great twisting shaped topiaries were to their left and a large glass greenhouse to their right. They were in the middle of the royal gardens, they had made it to the right space... but had they made it to the right time? The only way to find that out would-

"Oi, mates, you're back!" Blaze looked over her shoulder only to get an eyeful of quill, she had to really turn to see Marine approaching, "And closer than ever I can see, not back for a moment and you're already all over each other, strewth. What, were Sonic and Amy's eyes on you the whole time? Need to make up for missed snoggin'?"

"Marine, it is imperative that you listen to me," Blaze quickly rose from atop her partner, stomping in boots that felt overly heavy, "When did we leave here last, why did we leave?"

"Oh um," The raccoon looked even smaller than usual, her current unfamiliar shadow cast over her, "About two weeks ago? To help save Sonic's world?"

"Be more specific than that, to save it from what?" The pyrokinetic turn psychokinetic insisted.

"Umm... was it the ghost tornado?" Blaze's eyes widened for a moment, "No, no, that was last time," The raccoon started to bounce her leg, deep in thought, "Don't tell me mate... Metal Sonic, it was an upgraded Metal Sonic, final answer!"

Relief swept through the guardian. They were in the right place at the right time, just in the wrong bodies. It wasn't as though they were completely-

"Um, help?!" Blaze turned to find that Silver had risen to his feet but was wobbling, struggling for balance with burning hands flailing at his sides.

Blaze raced over, zooming around behind the cat to catch him by the wrists. It was strange to look over a shoulder that was hers, let alone to find herself taller than her own body. Gently, the hedgehog allowed her psychic power to leak and sooth over his burning hands. It was a strange sensation, like water running off of her palm and into the air; yet she still felt all that the output energy touched. She was the breeze coiling around his wrists and snuffing those flames.

"Easy, take deep breaths, you can control this," Blaze whispered into his ear, gently bringing his arms to his sides as she allowed their fingers to interlock, "We need to fix this as quickly as possible..."

"Sorry, I got excited to see Marine and it just... it feels like I'm overflowing, is this really what every day is like for you?" He was hot to the touch, burning up in a way Blaze couldn't remember physically feeling while in her own body.

"What's goin' on? You two are acting real weird," The youngster rubbed her chin, "I mean, weirder than usual."

"Blaze got sick in the other dimension. It's impacting her sense of balance, which in turn is affecting her control over her pyrokinesis," Blaze said, hoping Silver's inability to lie was a personality trait rather than a physiological one, "We need to move her to the palace courtyard; that way she won't risk burning anything or anyone."

The feline in her grasp stiffened but didn't speak up, clearly trying to go along with the plan.

"Oh strewth, sounds serious," Marine panicked as the lie worked, "Well hurry up then, sweep her off her feet and cart her to safety mate. If you fly her there you'll save the roses, and have a chance to smooch among the clouds."

Right, flying. This was going to be difficult. Silver's look of recognition, worn so plainly exaggerated on her own face, confirmed that worry. Lying had seemed like the right idea, both to keep Silver safe but also to prevent panic throughout the kingdom. If word spread that the guardian and her closest ally were both out of commission then uproar or even an invasion could occur.

Releasing the feline's hands, she allowed the heavy grasp of her new body to drift across her old one. Her right arm wrapped around Silver's shoulders while her left slipped beneath his knee to lift him off the ground. As it always had, the cat's form slotted flush against the hedgehog's chest- his head was against her shoulder. Was she really this light... or was Silver stronger than she'd been giving him credit? She had been noticing this body's shoulders in her peripheral vision a lot more than she had her own...

"Wait, this... feels weird," Did she look like that when she usually blushed? She hoped she wasn't usually so beet red, let alone volcanic to hold.

"Try not to think about it, that's what I usually do," She muttered under her breath, "How do I fly?"

"Oh, um," Silver leaned up, whispering into her ear, "You want to let the energy flow over your whole body and then just sort of... think in the direction? The harder you think, the more significant the force. Try to be gentle with your thoughts, too much and things will get dangerous. Maybe try to just hover first?"

Blaze closed her eyes and felt the coolness of psychic energy wash over and encase her body. That was the easy part, she'd managed that much already. What on earth did he mean to think in a direction? Silver didn't always look where he was casting his power, so it wasn't as though he meant to focus on a point in front of them. Did he mean to imagine an arrow? She didn't think he was constantly doing that in the heat of battle. What-

Something smacked Blaze's knees and made her eyes open wide; she looked down toward the ground and very almost plummeted directly into it! With so little thought, so little effort, the new psychic found herself rocketing through the garden; battering her way through bushes at a breakneck pace and barely feeling them smash against the psychic shell around her.

She commanded her body to stop and came to a neck wrenching halt, still hovering around half a metre off the ground. A glance backwards showed that a not so insignificant portion of the garden had been torn apart in the wake of her movement; it was lucky they hadn't been facing the greenhouse. Much further though and they would have hit the palace wall...

"Maybe try to think less?" She looked down to find her own face cringing up at her, "Gentle thoughts, light thoughts, try not to push too hard."

"I understand that now," She grumbled, throwing one more glance back to a rapidly approaching Marine before looking to the top of the palace wall, "There really is no chance we'll fall, is there?"

"No," Silver shook his head, "If you start to feel tired or lightheaded we should land as quickly as possible, but I know my body, I can handle way more than what you just did," Blaze felt his arm on her back, right where she had held him so many times, "I trust you."

"I don't like hearing that in my voice," Blaze harrumphed, turning her gaze skyward, "Let's get this-

Before she could even finish that sentence they were far higher than they had any right to be. By the time they finally made it to the courtyard the new hedgehog was both lightheaded and tired. This was going to be long and arduous, but they could make it work. Couldn't they?

[true-blue-sonic]

🌹

“…Oh! Silver, you scared me.”

Shooting the hedgehog a beaming smile Amy pushed her bag of groceries a bit more firmly into her one arm, the other free to be flung around Silver’s shoulders for a snug hug. “It’s been too long! How are you doing?” she chatted, squeezing the other close…

…and gaining absolutely no reaction, other than Silver tensing in her grasp.

“Silver?” Raising an eyebrow Amy reared herself back again. “Everything okay?”

She got stared at like she was a ghost.

Slowly the other hedgehog’s mouth opened, then closed, then opened again. “Amy,” followed in a whisper. “I- You- No! No, I’m sorry. About everything.”

“About what?”

“About what happened.” Averting his eyes Silver drew a deep breath. “I’m glad you’re okay. Is everyone else too?”

“I think so,” Amy, who had very little idea of what Silver was talking about, nodded back.

“Sonic’s fine?”

“Last time I saw him, yep. That was like yesterday.”

Silver's quills drooped, a heave of relief making the leaves on the branches around flutter. “That… That’s good," followed, almost watery in a way that disturbed Amy more than this whole conversation had already. Silver wasn't watery, and she'd never seen him this small and ruffled either... yet he was, and she had no idea why. "Shadow too?”

“I mean, we don’t talk much, but I believe so.”

“And… Elise? How is she doing?”

“Sorry, who?”

“…Elise. You know, she’s the princess,” the wary retort came. “Of Soleanna, remember? We were there together?”

“Ah,” Amy nodded slowly, and she had absolutely no idea anymore what Silver could have been going on about.

Silver for his part bared his teeth, quills bristling. “Amy, you can’t just have forgotten that! With Sonic! You were looking for him and roped me into that and when I found him you got mad because I tried to kill him-"

"Kill him?" Amy interrupted, raising an eyebrow. "When did that happen? Sonic never told me anything like that."

"You were there!" Silver all but snarled... before that faltered, the other turning away slowly with his face twisting in a way Amy could not place. "And... and you were angry. Really angry. And I get why now."

Helplessly Amy stared at him, wracking her brain. None of this had happened, she was certain; she'd been trapped in a card when Silver had met Sonic! “Silver… You’ve never tried to kill Sonic. You didn’t hit it off well, but you didn’t-” the pink hedgehog began to protest, though with every word spoken Silver's brow furrowed more tensely.

“I did! And Eggman came in and snatched Elise away, and you stopped me from going after Sonic and told me you’d choose him over the world!”

Right, Amy mused. Okay. Silver had only gone absolutely bonkers. Killing Sonic… as if anyone would be capable of that, ever. Not even Silver with all his psychic might would manage; and he shouldn’t want to manage, because he and Sonic were pals!

And yet he looked so desperate, as if he needed her to believe him…

[gaoau]

"Catastrophes are a set of syllables created by a vacuum."

I Love You(r Words) warnings — none. word count — 848

next.

It's a forty-minute train ride from Shibuya to Koto; it's a dull yet eventful Tuesday night. The weight of Komori's head against hers, the reflection staring back at her from across the empty wagon, the artist tearing their throat apart through the earphones they share. Goosebumps erupt on her arms as she closes her eyes briefly to find peace in the heaving of her chest. Hands intertwined, Komori reaches his thumb towards her wrist to caress over flawed skin, as uncomfortable as it is. When [Name] flutters her eyes open again, she meets his comforting smile merging with the twinkling stars.

He straightens his head, gazing down as [Name]'s cheek falls on his shoulder. A chuckle slips from her mouth, lips curling into a serene simper. She forgets adults she doesn't want to follow and recalls the clear tape covering a gaping hole in the glass of her window. Her eyes struggle to lock with his, but she will always put in a bit more effort into looking at him. She's convinced Komori is either psychic or has actually implanted a camera in her bedroom. He insists the vibes were off in her messages, but how do a bunch of W's have vibes?

"Do you prefer the ocean or the sky at night?" she mutters out while returning her attention to the window across from them. She knows what she'd choose.

He lets out a pondering hum that vibrates from his throat to his shoulder and reminds her they're together. "They're not comparable." Her frizzled hair tickles his jaw before he rests his cheek against her.

"Why's that?"

"You can't swim in the sky, can you?"

"Maybe you can't."

Their laughters are distinguishable in the emptiness of the train, revealing dimples and holding independence from each other's voices. The way Komori covers his mouth with his fist as he puffs his chuckles creates quietude in the jumbled mess of wrinkled thoughts that twist and turn to form her brain. The way [Name]'s tongue pokes out from between her teeth fills his stomach up with butterflies made from warming adoration for the friend whose hand he gets to hold. They settle down as they blow out sighs brimming with contentment. Glimpses of the waxing moon echo the earlier question.

"What's your answer?"

"Which do you want?"

"The sky—the midnight sky, of course. Clear of clouds, new moon, scars—stars, sorry. Stars of every color, Venus is probably visible."

"Go prettier."

She pulls away from his shoulder, the weight of his body transferring from her head to her lap as he makes no effort to sit up. He refuses to let go of her hand and squeezes it while cradling it atop his chest. The view is one she allows only for him; vulnerability, creativity, hope, love. There's delicacy in how her lips carefully wrap around the words she chooses and the syllables she whispers into soft clouds of her voice. Two for the blue he steals from the sky, two for that same vast and open sky, five for the lack of moon, four for her feelings.

"You hold the midnight sky in your gaze, stretching farther than mortal human hands can ever hope to reach. It's a welcoming darkness, inviting, safe. A moonless night where the only light comes from twinkling stars, dead and alive, dotting an endless canvas in glowing silver and red and gold and colors unknown to humans. They all glisten in the blue of your eyes and they're beautiful. I love you."

[Name] admires the realized smile growing on his lips. His thumb resumes its rubbing on the torn skin of her arms. "I love your words," Komori snickers in return. She laughs with him as she rolls her eyes. It's a language only the two of them can speak, sharing meanings twisted into codes for their own understanding.

Silence falls for her to relish in the disappearance of the anxiety that eats at her stomach and clogs her throat up and transforms speaking into torture. She owes it all to Komori, those stones he keeps throwing at her bedroom window, and his offer to run away from the discord at home if even for one night. Sentences flood over her lips effortlessly when it's his eyes she's staring into, although she can't see past them to find the end of the words she's spilling. He's the type of person that makes others want to hug and kiss them without trying. [Name] fears intimate touches as she saves herself from new bruises, but she's come to find the tips of his fingers heal.

She's come to find if it's Komori, she doesn't mind speaking until her vocal chords tear; she doesn't mind welcoming the warmth of his hand around her numb fingers; she doesn't mind closing her eyes to finally rest. She's come to find that if it's Komori, it's fine.

[strawberrymarshmallowstories]

Ice Queen (Gods&Goddesses AU) - Kim Seokjin

What the-

Your nose tickled with a familiar scent before you saw it - the bouquet of blue roses as waves of the ocean, the tips fading to depths not many witnessed in a lifetime. But instead of appreciation or surprise, a curse slipped from your lips.

You ran a scan on your psychic shields.

Negative - no irregularities over the past 12 hours.

It would’ve been scary hadn’t it happened before. The main house scan from security office came back a moment later - also negative. As always, you logged it for further investigation.

One day they were bound to make a mistake.

But when? And how?

Teleporting left a detectable trace. It could be masked, but not eliminated. You ran another scan on the bouquet itself - the flowers came back as pure, energetically untouched.

Human handiwork?

A tilt of your head, eyes narrowing at the inanimate intruder. Impossible. To bypass security, to bypass your rock-solid shields without a trace.

But despite all that, somehow still, at least once a year you woke to a bouquet of blue roses at your bedside. Blueberry-blues to arctic ice, from matte navy's to robin-egg blues. Unimaginable colours, hadn't you seen it with your own eyes.

A quick twinge along the familial line and your sister's energy greeted you before her long-limbed frame. As she danced through the doors, her long white dress flowed around her with a life on its own.

But her joy was short-lived.

'Again?' A whisper, her steps slowing to a reluctant gait. As the morning rays touched the flowers, tiny bursts of light erupted on the blossoms. As if small fireworks had sparked to life between the delicate petals.

You’d never heard of such talent for manipulation. With big eyes specialists deemed it impossible, all while clutching to the rose as drops of deep red stained their skin. But thorns mattered little with magic petals between their fingers, nose in the blossom as if its scent was a drug.

That they hadn't turned this into a fortune was a hint of their power. And wealth.

Ania leaned closer. 'It's kind of romantic though. Absurd, yes, but romantic.'

With a scoff you pulled a robe over your gown, soft yellow over black silk. An unexpected gift from your sister because you needed some sunshine in your life.

As a reply you’d almost iced over her aquarium.

'Cowards.’ You jutted with your chin as she pulled you into a hug. ‘It’s more creepy than what-not. How many years has it been?’

'Immortal’s infatuation lasts way longer. But hey sis, it’s not worthy enough to ruin your day.' A squeeze. ‘Happy birthday.'

Your arms wrapped around her on its own. With days being counted and her excitedly packing her bags, you wanted to laugh and cry the same. Accepting a position at the Union should've been a happy occasion.

But she'd chosen Alta on the other side of the world.

'I really don’t want to go in today. Can't I just burn the whole building down?'

She only laughed, having been there for many of your late-night rants. About Ancients and their Seconds who had no proper concept of time, about their minor territorial issues blown into elephants - the bare thought gave you a headache.

But you’d accepted it as a part of your job. You’d long realised Ancients didn’t see time as everyone else - they had centuries long behind them, a pebble in the ocean compared to yours. You’d once asked your mother how Ancients would ever respect you with their age against yours. She’d only laughed and told you to grow thicker skin.

Your sisters’ wink jolted you back to reality, mischief streak a spark in her eyes. 'You want me to do it? Oh please tell me yes!'

Different from yours, your sister had fire flowing in her veins, one that made her locks flow as lazy flames licking dry wood. It had placed its claim just after her first decade - early but not unforeseen. But what made her unique apart from her winning smile and olive-kissed skin, was the mark on her shoulder. Worn with pride, a medallion of a true claim.

Not many could take pride in it.

You, on the other hand, had been born from the other side of the spectrum. Ice queen, as per the hushed whispers. Ironic, as the roses always held an imprint of icy hues, as if a reminder of who you were.

'Would you like to come along?' You asked with a hopeful tinge. Ania had been there for your many risky escapades which had your mother breathing out fire, and her silence had earned your unwavering trust. Because even between family members trust wasn’t a given.

It had to be earned.

But today she only shook her head. 'Don't take it the wrong way but the Union you sure scares the hell out of me.' A theatrical shudder. ‘As if possessed, you know?’

You shrugged but couldn't hide a smile. 'What can I say, it’s a gift.'

‘Sis-,’ she said, her tone alert. ‘You may want to get dressed.'

Warning and uncertainty in one.

'Jin just, ported in?' A question of wonder, as if she herself doubted the pathed words. ‘Are you expecting him?’

'Not that I know of.' You scanned over your mental calendar. 'But let him in, he’s not the type to leave.'

Ania finished telepathing with a frown, seating herself in an armchair under the squared windows.

Every god had its own essence, something to warn the people ahead - a feeling of the sorts, that made weaklings scatter and called strong ones to attention. Energy reacted to his every footstep. It gathered around him, drawing nearer to the silent power humming through his veins.

He’s beautiful. Ania pathed with a nervous glance.

A fact. He was, even for an immortal. A muse for artists of many species since - whenever he was born. With his energy as a prided cloak he had nothing to prove - even his role as Lindiana’s Second a status to envy for.

He greeted Ania first with a kiss on the back of her hand that barely touched.

Before his gaze fell on you.

'Happy birthday to my favourite princess.' He mocked a bow, dark hair tickling his forehead, silken as if asking to be touched. But it was his eyes that had you pinned - deep earthy browns, whispers of warm summer nights and honey on the tip of your tongue. Tempting in a way he must’ve known.

And intended.

'Appreciated, not many call me a princess these days.' You leaned against the bedpost, arms crossed. ‘But I'd prefer not to see your face first thing in the morning, Jin. So why are you here again?'

He only smiled as he took in the surroundings, the space filled with the most luxurious of fabrics in the richest colours - ones you’d selected personally and had travelled lands to acquire. Ones heaven against your fingertips, of softness only cashmere could grasp the edge of.

How unlike you, and he must’ve known.

You shifted in your spot. The games he played, you didn't know how to win.

'Actually I've been demoted to a pickup guy.' A glance at Ania. ‘Summons.'

‘What is this about?' You forced your shoulders to straighten. Even when you felt nothing without your usual suit of straight-cut trousers and a blazer tailored to fit every curve.

'Incident on Ancient lands, your mother asked me to get you,' he said just as the buzzing datapad stole your attention.

Rebel activity in Alexei’s territory. Summons have been sent out, documents forwarded. Seokjin will pick you up. - Mother

'I’ve always wondered why my mother likes you so much,' you asked as much as sighed. 'What do we have so far?'

'It’s the charm,' Jin dragged out as you headed to the closet room, his voice loud enough to carry through the divider wall. 'But for the incident, lots of fire, no casualties.'

Nothing that’d normally require immediate summons. But your mother had a reason for everything.

'By the way.' His eyes skimmed over the formal suit as you walked out, twirling a blue rose between his fingers. 'Nice flowers.'

You cast him a narrow-eyed look.

'A special occasion? Or perhaps a message?'

He handed a rose to Ania who graced him with one of her sweetest smiles, her cheeks flushing to the skin of a ripe peach. With the dimples sharp as if encarved into her skin, even Jin held her gaze as if to breathe in her beauty and joy.

'That's none of your concern.' You threw a knowing glance at Ania. You'd seen those eyes work on its prey. She had yet to learn that Jin was never anyone's prey.

He was a hunter.

'However, Jin.' You refrained from rolling your eyes, focusing on perfecting your low bun. 'You're a pretty good teleporter--'

‘--one of the best, as a matter of fact.''

An obnoxious irritating man.

‘Is it possible to teleport something without appearing with it?'

A tilt of his head.

'An interesting question.' He ported another blue rose into his hand as he set his steps towards you. 'This information doesn't come cheap. What do you need it for?'

No other god would flinch at the proximity, and neither would you. Even when goosebumps ran down your spine and down to your fingertips. So you held his gaze as he stood before you, although your instincts demanded you run.

Your breath hitched at the gentlest brush against your neck. He’d tucked a rose behind your ear. 'And here I thought you didn’t like me.’

'Alright, that’s enough.' You shoved at his chest. Away, you had to get away. 'I don’t know how these flowers got here overnight. My security office detected no movement, neither did my scans find any breaches.'

Jin rubbed the spot on his chest. ‘I'm sure your shields are of steel. Then either a human or a family member.'

Human, perhaps. But a family member - not an option you'd ever consider. You glanced away. Stark contours stared back from the mirror, with a glint in your own eyes you’d never seen. But that didn’t faze you, not when silver flicks played in your hair.

Only a bare hint. As on the roses, until hit by sunlight and the chaos ensued.

With the look you threw at Jin, anyone would’ve been quivering in their boots. But Jin was an insufferable man not fazed by much. 'And no, nothing out of the ordinary.'

Jin ported a feet closer, making you jolt when his chest almost touched yours.

'You need a list who's been here for the past three days and why. Teleports can be set up and traces can be covered - the best can do it 48 hours beforehand with an inanimate object.'

A sharp inhale and you took a step back, one out of instinct. 'Stop doing that, you're setting off my shields.'

An excuse. A pathetic excuse that went on deaf ears as his hand came up to your ear once more, a brief touch before brushing aside the rebellious glittery strand. ‘It suits you well though.’

You swatted his hand away.

'You think it's previously set up?' Ania voiced, a grin on her lips at the unfolding theatrical play.

'Who knows, we all love a little secrecy around here, and you go around in pretty high circles. I think someone’s trying to impress you.' Jin sauntered across the floor, taking a seat on your bed as if that was the most natural thing to do. Back in the playful element - one surprisingly more comfortable. And predictable. ‘And some immortals like their lovers cold and stiff.’

You heard Ania gasp.

It would’ve been an insult had it not been Jin. But today your eyes lingered - on his suited up frame against the backdrop of your messy sheets.

You bit into your inner lip, body stiffening at the tightness in your belly. He was pushing your limits, he always did. This was your home field, a place where you were supposed to be your strongest. But still he smashed through every shield, every facade that kept you safe.

'I told you to stop,’ you muttered under your breath, hands balling into fists. Clutching for control under a veil of anger.

Silly silly girl.

He smiled. 'I don't think they'll make a move. Perhaps a message. What did they call it back in the day--’ he trailed off, a low hum at the back of his throat. ‘Desire for the unattainable?'

You shoulders tensed.

He’d spoken the same words as the old flower vendor many years ago. In an antiques store in the middle of a human town, he’d spoken of meanings humans placed on flowers. A human folklore passed down through generations.

But if Jin knew of it...

Ania's laugh pulled you out of your thoughts, the sound bubbling through her whole being. 'I'm sorry sis but it makes sense. You, uh--’ A quick glance at Jin. ‘Shoot down anyone who dares to approach.'

'I could care less,' you hissed back. It hadn’t been a choice, but a necessity. Because if you slipped once, someone could die.

And everyone would find out you were flawed.

'And you.' You pointed at Jin, lowering your outermost shields to initiate a psychic link, just enough for a teleport. He accepted it without hesitation and held out his arm.

You never had that freedom. Every single touch and mental contact had to be calculated and prepared for. A single wrong move and you could betray yourself.

And once you tucked away your darkest memories, you accepted his arm and the room turned into a whirlwind of colours.

~

 'Oh great, you're here - here’s the files,' you heard as soon as the energy materialised into familiar grey walled conference room. Your fingers clutched at thin air, digging into your palms, close to drawing blood. All to silence the past.

It always happened. The nightmarish demons had first found you when you had been no more than a babe. It was then when your mother had learned of your wide broadcasting affinity, when your scream for help blasted through every single pair of ears in the household.

You’d asked her many times about that night, but she always chose silence. Although her eyes spoke of sadness, of a little guilt and of secrets she’d one day take to her infinite sleep.

Luckily no one questioned your fears. To anyone, teleporting came with careful consideration due to risks imposed - it was a sign of great trust.

But in this case, you had to trust your mother’s judgement.

Because you knew, no one wished to be on the receiver end of your mother's wrath. You'd seen it, seen the power she held and the mercy she did not have.

Yes, she was your mother, but she was also a warrior queen.

'Wasn't that Jin?' Madeli piped as you sat down, her hands sorting paperwork to be reviewed. 'I thought you hated his guts.'

You scoffed. ‘My mother seems to like him. And I think she likes it when we don’t agree.'

'I wish he'd pick me up in the mornings, how romantic would that be.'

'Depends what you consider romantic,' you retorted. The room had started filling out, most entering in silent discussion. You nodded at everyone who glanced up, a couple of silent-mouthed greetings. ‘But you hate commuting and he loves women, sounds like a fair deal.'

Madeli lowered her voice. 'Did he ever do something to you?'

You shrugged and skimmed over the first report.

'It's about him not leaving me alone.' You handed her a signed document that disappeared into one of her many organisers. Once you wondered how she carried it all, and then recalled a queue of others that stayed behind for a kind word in exchange.

Maybe they had more commonalities than you’d thought.

A dreamy murmur under her breath. But your attention had already been stolen, by the friction in the air that had grown to a point where you could no longer ignore it. Too much energy in one space.

This time many territories had come as a pair when only one presence was required. The rumours had spread.

An Ancient had been struck.

Madeli finished with the attendance list and stepped down from the podium. After a nod at the closest guard, you started with the ancient incantations that came as second nature. Pages and pages of words that now slipped off your tongue, but once had taken a year to remember.

Fed by each Ancient’s contribution, the barriers could hold in anything. As a Mediator, at times like these you got a slight taste of their power.

A heavy mass, too heavy for frail shoulders. One could only be born to hold such power, and you were not one of them.

With a tight-lipped smile of control, you raised the outer barriers. As a barriers master, it was your job to keep it intact, to stop the energy from the world.

You cleared your throat, eyes browsing the crowd just as the microphone light flashed green.

The energy of the room focused on you. It was massive, possibly destructive even when constrained. The energy peak was also why Ancients rarely met in one place, and if they did - only under supervision.

Although civilised to a certain extent, one offensive remark and chaos would ensue.

That’s where you stepped in.

'This will be short. Alexei is still forwarding us the reports.' A quick inhale. 'It is true, his territory has been struck. And by someone with ancient control and strength, or something close enough.'

Quiet gasps and low murmurs around the room.

That should've been impossible, a pact of peace confining Ancients not to strike unless formally challenged or attacked. It had taken a century, endless hours of work and negotiations until everyone’s energy prints decorated the Terra Agreement.

If someone overstepped it, the Terra Union had the right to strike back as one.

'It's not one of us, as far as we know. The energy pattern doesn’t match our database, so we’re currently leaning towards a group channeling.'

Glances around the room - some of suspicion, some of surprise. Channeling was an ancient art lost in time. One not practiced or taught due to its inefficiency - it drained the participants of energy and could render them useless for days. No god would willingly leave themselves this vulnerable.

'I need access to energy reports for the past week, of any imbalances in each territory. We believe they yield fire as a general element but we cannot set it as a limit.'

You knew that didn't say much, earth elements only a basic affinity and could be trained. But this one had been nothing but simple, this energy had expanded until the verge of bursting.

Add fire into that mix, and you got what humans would call a bomb.

This required a long buildup, of months at least.

'Alexei is feeding information back to us as we speak, including ash samples. We will also get Yoongi's team dispatched shortly.'

'The one with the human? Is the human trustworthy with this?' A female voice jeered from the back. Lindinia, a goddess from a neighbouring territory to Alexei's, the one to steal your sister away.

Her eyes narrowed even further at your delay, making the resemblance with her cat uncanny.

'The human's a she, and she worked as much on the Lux medication as anyone else in that team.'

Silence. It had only been a remark, one you could've ignored but didn't. Everyone in that room knew of the specialised research team, one of the best in the immortal world with queues up to decades. And many of them had orders in for research costing billions.

Even with a human on it.

'However, while you're already standing, would you please share the incidents from your today's report?'

While gods kept to their own territories and upheld the value of family ties, there was a reason your family was in the middle of it all.

Aethra family were Mediators, ones who'd brought the lands together through a psychic network. And for that, they'd earned their respect from Ancients. They had even gone further to form the Terra Union, to work on justice with fairness extended to humans, gods and Ancients, and even creatures rarely seen in your realms.

But in the middle of it all, even the Union couldn't escape mundane politics.

And so your own special broadcasting ability had been skillfully buried under barrier-mastering and shield specialisation that gave you this job. But apart all the ranks you'd earned, your mother still considered you a weapon she'd protect, until the reveal was absolutely necessary.

Which hopefully never came to be.

Because that meant war.

Because what you could do wasn’t supposed to be possible - to blast out a message to any living being, or the whole globe if you so wished. Terra psychic network worked through signal transmitters, family members with broadcasting affinity, where they lent their abilities to connect others directly.

But you didn’t need signal transmitters for pathing, you didn't even need to link into the familial Terra network.

You somehow bypassed them all, exempt from any regulations. That meant you couldn't be tracked and left no evidence.

A weapon.

When Lindinia spoke, the calamity of her voice shushed the whole room. 'An energy bubble burst yesterday, exactly 24 hours before the incident. The centre was in the middle of an uninhabited forest. Sadly, no witnesses-'

'Not this again!’ A loud voice rumbled through the space. ‘I will not risk with the rogues getting to my territory! I'm out!'

In these moments you understood what your cousin Karter, another Terra network transmitter, meant with the impression of a burly bear. Still as handsome as any god, Rangeet held stark masculine beauty only the bravest would invite to their bed.

‘You can't.’ You said, stating what should’ve been obvious. ‘Your comms links will break and we need your link as much as you need ours. Karter can’t hold up your network on his own.'

His eyes blazed, fists clenched.

'But it's your choice Rangeet. You can go back to using phones, handy little devices that humans like. You can even give me a call sometimes, let me know how you're doing.'

You watched his eyebrows turn into a frown, his Second tapping on his arm. Phones could be too easily hacked, its signal picked up midway and destroyed without ever reaching its recipient. It was too easy, a child’s play.

Whereas Aethra transmitters could forward a message and no one would even know its contents. Once a link was initiated, it formed a secured bubble around the parties, formed from both energy fields and invisible on the psychic plane.

'Once we get our hands on those ash samples, shall we attempt a location teleport?’ Jin’s voice sounded and your eyes met his, a glint of amusement lingering on his lips. ‘Surprise them a bit? I'm sure Markir would love a slight exercise, that old man is turning grumpy.’

‘That’s right, let’s get the trackers on the energy lines,’ Lindinia cooed, her eyes flashing with her own power. ‘That would set a great example.’

‘No,' you interrupted. ‘They haven’t killed anyone yet. We’re sticking to the agreement. Trackers have already been sent out to scope the possible areas and so we wait. And prepare.’

‘Are the lines enough for an energetic photo?’ Jin asked and you glanced over at him again - while a reasonable question, you shook your head.

‘Not enough to attempt a teleport. I will not risk losing any more trackers on this.’ What you left unsaid was clear to anyone. Attempting a teleport on an incomplete energetic photo could be fatal.

You’d seen photos once, the torn limbs and the still beating heart halfway spiked through. Sickening. You took a breath to focus.

‘Let’s continue.’

~

'That was tough, Rangeet was so close to ripping out Jin's throat,' Madeli giggled as you both headed out, two pairs of heels clicking on tiled floors.

'I wish he had,' you muttered as you nodded at Lindinia. The goddess with feline grace in a hushed discussion sent back the faintest of smiles. Jin only nodded in acknowledgement, as per the etiquette. Nothing more, nothing less.

'I really have no idea what's up with him,’ you continued once you passed them. ‘He just… really irritates me.'

‘Well, my darling,’ Madeli started, her arm linking over your shoulder. ‘If you haven’t noticed, we’re all a little weird around here.’

Yeah, you'd definitely noticed.

‘But tell me,’ she hushed. ‘A little bird sang of a secret admirer.’

Damn it Ania, you sent another twingle along your familial line. You got back airy bubbles, showing her glee and joy. In hindsight, the rom-com loving secretary and your sister’s fiery soul had been a bad introduction.

‘Who knows, it’s been going on for years,’ you confided as you glanced into the mirror. The glittery strand still remained, but no one had mentioned it. They probably thought you’d lost it. ‘Please also schedule a meeting with Yoongi for later this week. But be careful, he’s in a foul mood.’

‘Of course.’ A snap of her fingers and her organised beeped. ‘What will you do about the stalker guy though?’

You touched the scanner pad and the doors slid open before you. Almost as large as your living quarters, your office space welcomed you with its delicate design and minimalistic interior - a perfect balance of cool ice you represented. Beautiful work, done by another cousin who’d pursued an alternative career path.

‘It’s beyond me.’ You plopped your bag on your desk and headed over to the windows. The view of the city was breathtaking in any weather, the streets bustling with immortals with a human or two thrown into the mix.

The room echoed as Madeli dropped a folder on your desk. ‘Anyway, Alexei just sent through additional energy reads, I’ve passed these on but there’ll be a copy on your datapad. No updates from other teams.’

‘Thank you.’ You glanced over your shoulder. ‘And listen, is it just me or something's not right?’

On your birthday, of all times. When you wanted nothing else but to relax, bask in the sunlight and laugh at silly things that didn't matter.

But a hunch was a hunch.

You didn't ignore hunches.

‘You want to fly over there? A plane would take 2 days and you can't leave for that long. Would you like me to schedule a teleport?’ Madeli checked her organiser. ‘The earliest is tomorrow morning, 7am?’

You shook your head while horrified somersaults ransacked your stomach. One teleport too many in one day.

The nightmares always waited, at the dimensional space you'd vowed to stay away from as a child. That's the only vow you'd ever broken.

‘Today.’ Your heart sunk. ‘Can you contact Jin please?’

Madeli’s raised eyebrows asked questions you didn’t have answers for. 'But he's not an official Terra teleporter.'

‘It’ll be fine.’ You assured, yourself more than her. ‘Sadly he finds me too amusing alive.’

A reluctant tilt of her head, nails clicking against the datapad. A quick affirmative nod a second later.

‘He said he’s free in about an hour, and that.. he’d love to spend some quality time with you?’ A quirked eyebrow. 'Are you certain?'

You slipped out of your heels, rubbing at your calves. ‘Positive, and thank you, I'll get some work done, so let me know what needs immediate attention.’

A shrug as a grin formed on her lips. ‘That's what I do best. And you must keep me posted on your date.’

You would've thrown something at her, but papers did not quite fly well.

 ~

[tomasorban]

THE ZODIAC: CANCER THE CRAB

Date of Rulership: 22nd June-23rd July; Polarity: Negative, female; Quality: Cardinal; Ruling planet: Moon; Element: Water; Body part: Heart, Lungs, and stomach; Colour: Silvery Grey; Gemstone: Pearl; Metal: Silver.

In the signs thus far examined, we have seen the formative energies of life achieve expression through different mediums: initially through the spontaneity and impulsive carnal drives of Aries; then through the aesthetic kaleidoscope of meandering Taurus; and finally the subdivision of vital force under the command of Gemini which enabled an innovative, evolutionary leap of consciousness. The latter’s propensity to concurrently exist in material and ethereal worlds also made sentient an intermediary realm in which the physical and spiritual mingled. Many would understand this intermediary plane to be the unrestrained world of imagination, intuition, thinking, memory, and emotion. It binds spirit to the body, and the emancipating dialogue that ensues between the two as a result engenders far-reaching repercussions for both. It invariably shapes the bundle of psychological habits and impulses that each of us calls self. It is the god Proteus and the nymph Thetis; a primordial ocean of acute shape-shifting awareness. Sometimes one might find themselves trapped in a kaleidoscopic labyrinth of geometrical contours or in shapeless clouds. At other times, one might see a sequence of rhythms or sounds, hear colourful objects, and taste backward or previously unseen locomotion. At other times still, one can be overwhelmed or possessed by anxiety, fear, titillation, love, or relaxation one minute, and riddled by a complete absence of emotion the next. At some point it might be apparent that everything in existence comprises the skin of a gargantuan cosmic animal and at other points all created matter might appear to be discarnate and autonomous entities that simply inhabit the same cosmic space. Polarities can coalesce under a singular experience and thinking processes are transposed to concentrated levels that elude comprehension on the physical plane. Nothing is ever controlled or mediated; there is just a perpetual waxing and waning of thoughts and ideas that explode onto the sands of consciousness one minute and dry up the next. Time becomes a helium balloon, expanding as to spur the perception that a plethora of daylong activities have been squeezed into the space of a few minutes and then shrinking as to flush out the space of a day in two seconds. In this realm, the personal can become impersonal very quickly and barriers deemed impenetrable in the physical world are breached at will.

Gemini’s severe allergies to the emotional faucet rendered it somewhat superficial, insensitive, and impotent to the depth of experience, an anomaly which is corrected with the inauguration of the Cancerian archetype. Because the formative energies of Cancer originate from this intermediary realm of being which connects the physical and spiritual, it acquaints humans with their individual souls but also with the anima mundi, the cosmic soul of Mother Nature which unites all creatures irrespective of size or complexity. A newborn inclination to look inward for nirvana underpins the fundamental Gnostic adage of this archetype, namely that the external environment, the mechanical world into which we are born, appears to be an exotic synthesis of indifferent and insensitive elements that cannot offer inner harmony or fulfilment to spiritually-orientated humanity. The only hope for the human condition, according to Cancer, is to turn on the emotional faucets of the psychic plane and let the cold and hot water form a sensitive current that incite a sense of meaning and purpose and drive the impersonal spirit or life force through the tumultuous waters of life until it is again time to reunite with the paradisal state of perfection in maternal unconsciousness.

“Folks, life’s all about being feelings,” says Cancer. “Feelings and sandcastles, my friends! I like to build mine with all sorts of implements, usually down by the seashore. If I don’t use sand and water its paint and pastels, and sometimes I even use pen and writing paper. I create them with my vivid imagination and decide who or what is going to be living inside. I decide upon fates and lifespans and transcribe the romantic events that will unravel within its high walls. Sadly, there comes a time when the incoming tide levels and sucks them back into the pit of the ocean’s stomach. I understand the tides, the coming and going of primordial energies, and the cycles of the cosmos like no other which is why I build my houses strong. Strength equals domestic stability and tranquillity, something everyone wants! I use the sturdiest things available–sticks, stones, metals, bits of detritus from the seabed–to insulate my soft and squishy parts from Mother Nature’s wrath and Man’s acidic and unbecoming temperament. As a humanitarian, I’m always willing to share my space with an appropriate other, especially if that other is a poor, helpless soul in need of smothering or mothering.

I’ll be the first to admit that I’m tactile and love affection. I’ll also admit that I do have too much of the moon and the sea in me; my moods can go from black, to low, to white, to high, and to crescent shape in the space of about a microsecond. I can be volatile that way, but I more than make up for it with my talent for story-telling, my attention to detail, and my emotional rapport. I can also be timid and shy, but once you’ve gained my trust and extricated me from my crabby shell you’ll feel like you’ve known me for years! Once I’m out you’ll have to be rather gentle with me; I’m not particularly fond of prying eyes or confrontation, verbal or otherwise, so I will often sidestep around these. If this is not possible or plausible I’ll just thrust my big old pincers out and threaten to dice the adversary up into little pieces. You should also know that I’m a fiercely faithful friend, and my concern for the welfare of others can often be mistaken for clinginess and co-dependence. My soul is dark like rocks of obsidian, and deeper than the Mariana trench in the Pacific Ocean. Just like these qualities strike night terrors in those individuals not quite attuned to their inner selves, so too does it nurture my own worst nightmare–the fear that I might be deserted to my own devices and have to face life alone.”

Cancer is undoubtedly the first sign to actively work through the mimetic bank of the collective unconscious, drawing upon cosmic archetypes like the tribal brother or sister, love, the heroic journey, utopian societies like the legendary Atlantis, and the struggle between seemingly disembodied forces of good and evil to create its own narratives, real or imagined. Souls incarnating through the stars of this zodiacal constellation more often than not exhibit melancholia, sentimentalist romanticism, and a longing to recapture the locus classicus of Golden Ages bygone. The latter is most likely due to the fact that Cancerians retain prenatal memories of the paradisal perfection within the womb, and hence looking backward into the past is also examining a longwinded path that meanders further and further from union with the divine.  Their deep connection to the supranormal and creative powers of the greater subconscious mind and its intuitive faction, as well as a heartfelt obsession with the subtler and intimate details of our psychological makeup makes them the true hub of the arts. It is no coincidence that souls born under the aegis of Cancer tend to be artists, writers, musicians, and poets. The unconscious willpower or drive of a Cancerian soul is second to none.

Lamentably, Cancer’s derivation from an imaginative plane experienced through the electrical power of primordial ebbs and flows without the aid of a transistor isn’t all milk and honey. Cancerians are notorious for letting the intellectual throne of their personal kingdoms be usurped by emotion, and we all know what happens when unchecked emotions are given prominence over wisdom and intellect: problems and worries multiply and quickly distort our perceptions of the outside world so that everyone appears dishonest, deceptive, potentially threatening, and narcissistic. Emotionally disturbed Cancerians usually repress their feelings for prolonged periods, letting grievances and resentments simmer and become pressurised deep in the confines of their unconscious until these can no longer be contained. When the tempestuous eruption finally comes to pass, the rock-melting intensity of the sonic blast can be so potent as to incinerate, alter, or disfigure relationships permanently. This is one of just many reasons why Cancerians are introverts, choosing to traffic in relationships that are highly unlikely to balloon into melodramatic love affairs or force them into encounters with their own shadows.  

Like Aries, Taurus and Gemini, there are also two symbols associated with Cancer the Crab. The first of these, the animal totem, evokes the primary psychic composition of all beings born under this zodiacal sign; deriving from and dwelling in the element of water, crabs are tranquil, expressive and passive in their habits. The existence of a shell denotes a self-absorbed proclivity towards domestication, introversion, emotional vulnerability, and cultivation of the soul’s imaginative realm. In embarking in a cross-cultural and historical examination, we find that the ubiquitous expression of this archetype has altered in time. For some of the prehistoric cultures, Cancer was represented as a crayfish. Moving into historic times, the ancient Egyptians imagined the constellation as an embodiment of the morning sun–Khephera –whose totemic animal was the scarab beetle. The modern image associated with this archetype was inherited from Babylonian or Chaldean astrology, the latter also influencing the iconography used by the Persian and Hellenistic peoples. The fixed stars associated with this constellation were deemed of utmost importance given that they delineated the seat of an ethereal Great Mother Goddess from which all life in the cosmos had sprung forth. Two ancient calendars, the Egyptian and the Mayan, further illuminate Cancer’s importance as an archetypal indicator of cosmic beginnings and endings: the ancient Egyptians, ascribed prominence to it as the home in which almighty Sirius, the mediating star of the wheel of heaven, rose heliacally to herald the New Year; and the Mayans prophesized that an alignment of the planets within Cancer would spur an act of un-creation and spell the end of the universe. In Roman myth, the goddess Juno fashioned Cancer and placed her in the starry heavens to serve as a cosmic chronometer and reverse the forward-moving cycle of creation when she finally felt that the process of becoming would be of no further benefit to mortals and immortals alike.

The second symbol, an astrological shorthand for the zodiacal sign, shows two identical figures whose arrangement discloses polar opposition. In Gemini this image of duality symbolizes a conunctionis or marriage of opposites, but in Cancer it draws attention to the insuperable psychic tides that are inherent in the nature of this archetype and demonstrated by the gravitational forces and see-saw interfaces imposed upon the earth by its mediating planet, the moon. The two spirals pertaining to each figure may be interpreted in a variety of ways; either as a pair of breasts, symbols of fecundity and divine providence, or as two spermatozoa whose conjunction generates the miracle of life. Both are connected to creation and both recall the feminine element of water as the great cosmic womb through which evolutionary life processes take root. Naturally this sign is intimately connected to physical conception and birth, as well as the psychological dependence of the developing ego on the uroboric Self. Hence, the symbol also serves as a memory cue for those primordial moments of happiness, fundamental unity, oneness, and paradisal perfection experienced in the womb before birth, along with the sadness and loss that comes from being separated from the maternal realm of unconsciousness.

[colorofmymindposts]

Hope for the Stars

Fandom: Doctor Who 

Pairings: Twelfth Doctor/Missy

Warnings: Major Character Death, Alternate Ending to series 10, Major Canon Divergence, Description of a Corpse 

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Status: Complete but part three of my The Doctor Falls series. Reading part one is pretty optional but I definitely recommend checking out part two before reading this. 

Word Count: 2134 

Chapter: 1/2. 

Summary: A final goodbye between the oldest friends in the universe seems as though it's the last chapter. But with the Doctor, every end comes with a beginning.

Tags: Heavy Angst, Messy Feelings, Coping with Death, Funeral, Grieving Missy, Twelve is very dead

I don’t know if the tagging system is still messed up, but you can read this work on ao3 under my username colorofmymind! Kudos and comments will be much appreciated!

The silence is deafening, save for the intermittent low hums of the TARDIS. Her hands drift and glide over the console as she circles round it, making no effort to start for any destination. A destination would require a plan. Missy has none.

What was the original plan, exactly? Redeem herself in everyone’s eyes, and then? No more tentative friendship. Renew their pact. Midnight, with the stars and him. It had been absolutely too vague, almost totally meaningless. And yet it was something. Now, there is nothing, no friend, without hope, without witness.

“Without reward, indeed,” Missy chokes out, voice hoarse from disuse and grief, realizing now she never precisely knew what that meant until this moment. Her death at least would have allowed her to escape from the shallow, crude reality of it all. Missy makes the mistake of looking down at the Doctor’s lifeless body. The sight alone is enough for her hands to tremor, knees to buckle, eyes to water and weep openly, now that the privacy allows for it. It takes much more time than she’d like to find the lapels of his jacket, fisting them in her hands for purchase. It doesn’t do much other than prevent her from strangling him, or herself.

“You absolute imbecile!” she cries out, venom behind each word. “I would have stayed here, the Vault, anywhere you would have liked for the rest of those thousand years! Two thousand even. You’d be there at least. You’d be alive.

But we were always so impatient, weren’t we? We couldn’t keep to the confines of Gallifrey or the Vault. We just wanted the universe. I wanted you.” Those last three words fall out her mouth without her permission, and she knows full well what she communicated with them. The humans always wait, desperate for that confession, that one word: love. There isn’t even a comparable translation for it in Gallifreyan; what is the need of such a word to Time Lords? Time Lords are supposed to have two hearts that are full of nothing.  

She wants to rip her hearts right out of her chest, stamp them into mincemeat under her boots, and wail with the confidence and indignity of a newborn babe until she keels over. Or maybe she could cut her hearts out, carefully, scientifically, and transplant them into the Doctor, make him breathe, live again; he could cry over her body, but at least that’d be familiar for the both of them.

Death is for other people, dear. Missy said that, once. She never dreamt that the Doctor would number among the others.

The grip she has on him slackens. With complete gracelessness and depravity, Missy collapses on top of him, her chest on his, face burying into the crook of his neck. The endless propulsion of loss and guilt wracks her body; the tears flow out as quickly as the notes to Mozart’s Piano Concerto No. 20 in D minor K. 466 - 1. Allegro, one of the Doctor’s favorites that she used to play on the piano. The piano he gifted to her. Missy cannot form words even if she tries. So heavy is this sense of finality, and she’s drowning under it. Her friend is dead. Time levels and undulates and then ceases to be around them, and all Missy is aware of is the uncontrollable shaking and the gasping and crying like she’s being gutted from the inside out for existing at all and the fact that he’s gone, gone, gone forever and she’s the only one left...

It’s some time later that Missy finally awakens next to the Doctor, colder than he’s ever been. It’s not really him, she reminds herself. His essence, the playful and wonderful mind, they’re gone. Could she reclaim them, she would. She should, really. It’s the least she can do when this whole monumentally stupid test to prove herself was the very reason they had found themselves in that disaster, created by her former self, no less. Resurrection has its risks though, this she knows. The potential for a miscalculation or chemical imbalance is extremely high, and his entire body could irrevocably malform; of course the safer alternative, transferring the consciousness into a living host, is something the Doctor would have never even entertained whereas the Master had, ever so frequently when in a tight spot, regrettable now in retrospect.

The stinging pain in her back and abdomen from the Laser Screwdriver has lessened slightly with her rest, but her eyes feel terribly sore and dry from what was probably the greatest lapse into emotional breakdown of her life. There are no more tears to cry, now. Missy picks herself up, squeezing the Doctor’s hand before standing only to find it has become extremely stiff with the onset of rigor mortis. The realization leaves her nauseous and quite wishing she hadn’t done that.  

That does bring up the present dilemma. What to do with his body. A Time Lord’s body, particularly the DNA, would be a precious asset to almost any alien species. Burial and cryogenic freezing are right out then. The Doctor will have to burn.  

Somehow, she still manages to hobble over to the TARDIS console with that thought on her mind, pulling on the levers and buttons by mere muscle memory. Already, Missy has the perfect idea for the location for the Doctor’s funeral, a strange thing to be sentimental about, but if he were still part of the universe, she thinks he would appreciate it.  

“I’m almost certain you never prepared for this, my dear,” Missy begins, completely aware that the Doctor can no longer hear or respond to her. “I’m not talking about death, no, you practically begged for it when you were feeling particularly morose. What comes after is what I mean. Did you really think you could lie on a battlefield and that just be the end? It should take no more than a few centuries for a human exploratory crew or some other ship to find you with all your DNA and unleash terror on the universe. That just won’t do, not when you’ve put so much work into the place.”

The whole monologue was meant to calm her down, but she’s made an all too rational point. This is a universe without the Doctor, and it has been such a very long time since that was the reality. What will happen now, without that man roaming the stars, trying to bring kindness and goodness to the places and people he visits? As flawed as he could be while doing it, a small voice inside her offers.    

“Because one day everyone's just going to need you too much.” Bill was right. The universe will never survive without the Doctor.

The TARDIS hums somewhat admonishingly, and suddenly the psychic link is made between her and the ship, and a flurry of images and memories are the sole occupiers of her thoughts: the TARDIS landing unannounced and needing help for some unknown reason, Missy’s constant maintenance of the TARDIS, Missy trying to find a way out of the TARDIS doors to help the Doctor and his companions when he was about to sacrifice himself to the Cairn gate, and the moment she stepped out of those same doors declaring confidently “Hello I’m Doctor Who.”

Oh. Oh.

Missy smiles and tuts quietly at the now reicent sentient machine. Being, she corrects herself mentally. After, she and this Type 40 are going to have to get along if this is to work.

“You knew well before any of us, didn’t you? Oh, you clever girl,” she purrs.

The ship creaks and groans upon arriving to their destination. In all fairness, this is the most hectic point in time and space besides the literal end of the universe, and Missy’s been there before. Placing the stabilizers on as a precaution, Missy retreats down one of the corridors, hoping she’ll find what she’s looking for.

“Ah, there you are,” she says upon finding it. The casket’s exterior shines just as brightly as the wood from whence it came: the silver trees of Gallifrey. Adorning the side panels are the traditional Gallifreyan rites for the deceased. Measurements in this case are not necessary; Time Lord technology has once again thought ahead to accomodate for any particular regeneration--the dimensions are bigger on the inside. It’s a difficult task for someone of her stature and injured status to not drag the damned thing on the console flooring, but she manages it for the Doctor’s sake alone.

Upon placing the casket next to him, however, she cannot seem to find the strength in the moment to lift him into it and send him away for good. A hand of hers secures itself on one of the handles on the console to ascertain that she does not collapse again.

“Well, this is it then. Me, Missy, your oldest friend, assisting you with your death. Goodbye, effectively for the two of us. What am I even saying,” she finishes under her breath, beginning the process of lifting the Doctor’s body into the casket. For appearances’ sake, she brushes off the lingering dust and debris off his coat and trousers and face, though it won’t matter for much longer. No one else besides her will be viewing him, and he’ll be crisper in just a few minutes than she ever was back in the old days. From underneath the console, Missy locates four hover discs, placing one at each end of the casket to ensure his departure is as seamless as possible. For some inexplicable reason, she is unable to close the casket lid. There is something she must say first.

“We made a pact once, you and I. We were going to see the stars together and abandon all the trivial troubles of Gallifrey. But something went wrong in the plans. We went on separate paths. Well, you went on your own path, and I followed you. I followed you everywhere I could,” Missy confesses, tangling her fingers in her Doctor’s curls. “In some ways, I wish...I wish I hadn’t woken up from that shot, the one I should have died from. We both could have been dead martyrs together. Wouldn’t that have been nice? But I understand now why I couldn’t...join you. I never got the chance to, did I?” Her voice escapes her for several moments, and she blinks away the forthcoming tears she previously didn’t know she still had.

“Standing with you...was all I ever wanted, too. Thank you, Doctor, for trying. It worked. I am standing for something now, after this and evermore, and I’m sure it will kill me someday, for good.” Missy pauses to collect herself. If she’s giving him a closing testimony she’s making sure it’s a damn good one.

“This is the last chance you have to announce you’ve miraculously survived before I send you off into Dante’s Inferno, just so you know.” The silence that follows is answer enough to her request.

“It actually isn’t Dante’s Inferno. That place isn’t real. You wanted the stars, so I brought you to them. Every single one.”  

In a few quick steps, Missy is able to pull the doors open, revealing that they have indeed reached the intended destination. Gas clouds are just beginning to circulate and weave their ways, nebulas are brewing stars within their wombs, and galaxies expand their territory among the vast devoidness of empty space. The constellation of Kasterborous is just a few hundred million light-years away from forming.

“It isn’t the moment, not the singularity that started it all. Although, it’s reasonable enough to presume you’ve already been there. We’ve entered the structure formation period of the Big Bang, when stars began existing,” she explains.

“No star ever existed before this point or would be able to exist without this moment. Your casket will fly into one of those stars and burn with its light and passion, and your atoms be dispersed all around the universe and help bring life to all of creation. I think without a doubt this is the best surprise party I’ve ever thrown for you,” Missy claims, placing her hands on her hips with a certain sense of self-satisfaction in this truly bizarre and dizzying ceremony.

The casket hovers just by the TARDIS doors. All she has to do is guide it out, and discs will direct it over to that red dwarf star, his final resting place. With a certain solemnity and poise Missy has never reserved for anyone in her lives, she seals the casket shut.

In a whisper, hushed so only the infant forces of the universe behind the two of them can hear, she gives the Doctor her final farewell.

“Goodnight, my dear friend.”  

[bamby0304]

The Hart II: Highway

Summary: Off on her own, without the Winchesters, Bobby, Ellen or Jo, Lizzie tries to get back to what she does best… hunting. But time is running out, Dean’s soul is on the line, and now everyone knows Lizzie is psychic like Sam. Can the brothers and Lizzie work through their problems? Or will they lose everything?

Bamby’s Masterlist The Hart Masterlist The Hart II: Highway Masterlist

Part Twelve: Debts and Deals

Warnings: Normal stuff... with some added sexual tension.

Bamby

DPOV

"Private security?" Bela asked, standing close as she looked around the room.

"I don't think so. Look at the way they're standing. They're pros," I noted. "Probably state troopers moonlighting."

"Posted to every door, too."

"Yeah, I don't think we're just going to be able to waltz upstairs."

"What do you suggest?"

I sighed, giving her a quick smile to show her how annoying I found her. "I'm thinking."

She watched me expectantly. "Don't strain yourself." When I turned back to her she grinned. "Interesting how the legend is so much more than the man."

"You got any bright ideas, I'm all ears." Let's see if she can do any better.

"Okay." She shrugged slightly before letting out a groan as she began to fall towards the floor.

I grabbed her quickly, keeping her from hurting herself. "Honey? Honey, are you all right?" I played along, looking around confused until I spotted a waiter. "Waiter! Hi. Uh, my wife has a severe shellfish allergy. Th-ere's no crab in that? Is there?"

He hurried over, shaking his head. "No, sir."

"No?" Reaching up, I grabbed one of the appetizer from the silver tray and shoved it in my mouth as if to test it. "Oh, they're excellent, by the way," I noted, mouth full.

One of the guards approached us then. "What seems to be the trouble?"

"Ah... champagne!" I exclaimed. "My wife, she's a lightweight when it comes to the sauce. Is there somewhere I can lay her down till she gets her sea legs back?"

The guard looked around before setting his sight on the stairs. "Follow me."

"Right." I handed to guard Bela's purse. "Thank you." With a grunt, I managed to lift her into my arms and followed the guard upstairs. "Come on, you lush."

...

I placed Bela onto a couch in the room the guard had brought us in. "You think she's a pain in the ass now, try living with her." I grinned as I walked the guard to the door and grabbing Bela's purse from him. "Thank you very much." As I shut the door I turned in time to see Bela sitting up. "Hey maybe next time give me a little heads up with your plan?" I suggested, throwing her bag at her.

She caught it effortlessly. "I didn't want you thinking. You're not very good at that." When all I did was sigh, she smirked. "Oh, look at you. Searching for a witty rejoinder."

"Screw you." I glared.

"Very Oscar Wilde." She teased. Turning I was to leave, only to have her call after me. "Room 235. It's in a locked glass case wired for alarm, I'm sure that won't be a problem."

"I'm sure that won't be a problem," I mumbled mockingly, leaving her so I could go get the hand.

SPOV

I looked over to see Lizzie standing on the edge of the room, watching. She looked as if she was enjoying herself as much as I was. Which I wasn't enjoying myself at all. This was practically torture.

"Where's Alex and your friend?" Ms Case asked, drawing my attention to her as we danced. "They're missing a great party."

It's not like I couldn't tell her the truth, so I simply shrugged. "Um, ah, I'm sure they're entertaining themselves."

"Oh, naughty." She chuckled. "Then I guess we'll just have to entertain ourselves as well." She slid her hand down my back and squeezed my ass, causing me to jump

"Whoa, uh..." It was like I was constantly uncomfortable around this woman, but all she did was giggle. "Ha, y-you know, Mrs. Case, I-"

She clicked her tongue disapprovingly. "Ooh, ooh, ooh"

"I'm sorry, Ms Case," I corrected myself. "I don't wanna give you the wrong idea."

She looked up at me with a suggestive smile as her eyes watched my lips. "Call me Gert." Moving, she rested her head on my chest. "You remind me of my late husband... he was shy too. Till we got below deck." Once again, she grabbed my ass.

"Whoa-oa!" I pulled back a little, moving her arms back to my shoulders

"Mm, you're just firm all over, ooh, mmm." She giggled.

DPOV

Finding and getting the hand was easy. With it now stash in my pocket, I made my way back to the room where I'd left Bela. Though as I walked around the corner, I bumped straight into the guard that had helped us earlier.

"Whoa. Sorry! It's, uh..." I quickly came up with a lie. "Nature called."

He nodded. "Ah huh."

Changing the subject, I guested to the door that lead to Bela's room. "Thanks for looking after my wife."

"Oh, she's being looked after, all right." He grinned, shaking his head as he walked off.

Having no idea what he meant, I shrugged and continued for the room. Walking in, I found Bela fixing the strap of her dress.

"Any trouble?"

"Nothing I couldn't handle," she answered, finishing with her dress. "The hand?" I pulled it from my pocket, showing her the mummified hand. She stepped up, gesturing for it. "May I?"

"No." I didn't even have to think about my answer as I wrapped the hand up in a handkerchief.

"It might be more inconspicuous in my purse," she suggested.

I let out a scoff, knowing all too well how untrustworthy she could be. "Nice try."

"Just trying to be helpful."

"Well, sweetheart, I don't need your kind of help," I told her as I tucked the hand back into my pocket.

SPOV

"Man, this is one long song," I noted, a tone of annoyance in my voice.

If Ms Case heard the tone, she ignored it as she breathed in deeply. "I hope it never ends." She snuggled into my chest a little more. "How's the investigation going?"

"These things take time."

"People are talking about the Warren brothers' deaths." She pulled back to look up at me. "Strange. Do you think it's connected to Shelia's?"

"Yeah." I nodded. "Yeah, we think so."

"I think they had it coming, you know. In a Biblical sort of way."

Frowning, confused, I looked down at her. "What do you mean?"

"You know about their father."

"No."

"Come here, I'll whisper it to you," she offered. Before I could protest she pulled my head down so she could whisper in my ear. "People say that the old man didn't die of natural causes."

Grimacing, hating the feel of her hot breath on me, I managed to speak. "Then how?"

Caressing me as she whispered and blew into my ear, answering. "Rumour is the boys did it. Nothing was ever proved, but, uh, people still whisper."

"Okay, okay, okay." I pulled away. "Um, um, so did, did, did Sheila have any connection to them?"

She looked confused. "Well, none that I know of."

"Did Sheila have any kind of tragedy in her life?"

"Yes. As a matter of fact, there was. A car accident when she was a teenager."

"What happened?"

"Her car flipped over. She was okay but her cousin Brian was killed," she answered before giving me a curious look. "Why, is that important?"

I couldn't answer, and suddenly found myself unable to come up with a good enough lie. But just then Bela and Dean walked up to us from one way as Lizzie came from the other side.

"Well! Having a nice time?" Bela smiled widely at the elder lady.

"He's delightful!" Ms Case beamed, stepping up to her. She spoke in a low voice which we all managed to hear. "He wants me."

"Oh!" Bela's smile turned into a grin as she looked over at me. I grimaced as Lizzie chuckled and Dean looked surprised. "I'm going to get Gert into a cold shower," Bela offered.

"Great idea." I nodded.

Turning to leave Bela looked over her shoulder at us. "See you at the cemetery."

Dean checked his pocket for a moment before he looked to me. "You stink like sex."

DPOV

"You got it, right?" Sam asked the moment the three of us got into the car. "Tell me I didn't get groped all night by Mrs Havisham for nothing."

"I got it..." I assured him before turning, confused. "Mrs Who?"

"Even I don't know that reference," Liz called from the back seat.

Sam rolled his eyes. "Never mind. Just let me see it."

I gave my pockets a pat, pulling out the wrapped hand. Only as I unwrapped it I found that it wasn't the hand. Instead, it was a small glass bottle with a tiny ship inside.

As angry as I felt about it, I also couldn't help but feel guilty. She'd done it again. She'd tricked us. Now we had no idea where the hand might be, and we had no way to stop the ghost from killing again.

"Well?" Liz popped her head over to take a look, only to freeze. "You've got to be kidding me," she groaned.

"What?" Sam asked, looking to us worriedly.

I held the bottled ship up so he could see it. "I'm gonna kill her."

EPOV

In my room at the abandoned house, I mumbled to myself, annoyed. Bela had always been selfish, but this was too much. People were going to die. Over many years. Lots of people. How could someone be as cold as that?

While moving around my room I'd been trying to get the clip of my dress undone, but in my haste and frustration I'd managed to get my hair caught. One pull and I felt the tugging pain all girls hated.

"Ow!" I hissed.

A moment later there was a knock on my door. "Liz? You okay?"

I froze as I looked over at the door. "Yeah." I'm going to hate myself for this… "Can you... can you just come in here for a moment?"

Dean didn't wait before stepping in, seeing me standing with my hands at the back of my dress, holding the clip so my hair wouldn't pull. "Uh... you okay?"

"No." I pouted. "Unbutton me?"

He grinned, moving forward. "That's gotta be one of the sexiest things you could say."

"Shut up, Dean. Now is not the time." I rolled my eyes and turned so he stood behind me. "Just help. My hairs caught."

Without saying another word, he raised his hands to help me. I felt the warm familiar touch of his skin brushing against mine as he carefully worked to get me unstuck. The longer it took, the less unsexy the moment became.

I felt my cheeks burn and my eyes close as I leaned back into him slightly.

When I was finally free he didn't step back or let go. Instead he grabbed each side of the dress and slowly began to slide it off my shoulders. I held the dress in place, covering myself as he took the pin out of my hair before brushing my long locks over my shoulder.

My heart was beating hard in my chest, stomach flipping with butterflies.

His lips pressed against my shoulder and I was lost. Completely gone. Dean always made me melt away. Each time we'd had sex in the past we'd both learnt how to make the other person tick. Each time Dean got better, and each time it got harder to stop sleeping with him.

It had been months since we'd touched in this way. Hell, I hadn't even hugged him... actually, I couldn't remember if I'd ever hugged him.

If we were to do this now I knew it would make everything harder, make losing him hurt more. I'd have to end whatever this is, again, and it would hurt. Like hell. Or as close to hell as I can get without actually going there.

Which is why I'd managed to open my eyes and pull myself away.

"We can't, Dean."

After a pause, he sighed, "I know."

At first, I thought he was agreeing with me, until I realised the tone of his voice meant something else.

Turning to him, I frowned. "You know what?"

"Casey, that demon I was trapped with, she told me some things," he admitted, looking away from me guilty. "She told me about a deal. About... about a deal your mum made."

My heart sunk. "Dean-"

"That's why you left, right?"

Looking away, unable to meet his gaze, I slowly nodded. "Yes."

"You're going to be okay, Liz." He stepped closer, his hand cupping my cheek. "You and Sammy will have each other, and you'll be okay."

"No, we won't," I sighed. "Why'd she even tell you?"

He hesitated a moment before lowering his hand as he answered, "Because the deal I made didn't bring you back."

I froze. "But I though you saved both-"

"I meant to. I offered my soul for both you and Sam. And I thought I'd saved you both until the demon told me..." He took a few steps back as he worked on going on. "She said one of you had already been brought back."

"Then how? How am I here?"

"I don't know." He shook his head, taking a step closer again. "But it has something to do with the deal your mum made."

I had no idea what that meant. How could a deal that was made almost twenty years ago still be keeping me alive now? What had my mum really asked for? Would I always be like this? Whatever this is... was there more to the deal? Were there other things I don't know about?

Questions muddled my mind, making it hard for me to think about anything other than the endless possibilities of what might be.

"Liz." Dean's hands grabbed my shoulders as he looked into my eyes with his own worried ones. "Liz, you're okay. You're fine."

As I refocused on him I slowly shook my head. "I'm nowhere near fine."

DPOV

I stood by the fireplace downstairs, looking at the flames as Sam sat at the table reading through the books, trying to find a way for us to still finish the case and keep other people from dying.

Liz was upstairs. I'd left her in her room. She'd told me she wanted to be alone, and so I'd given her what she asked for.

But I hadn't stopped thinking about our conversation since I settled in front of the fire. I was wondering if telling her I knew had been a clever idea. Maybe I should have just kept it from her a little longer. Maybe I shouldn't have told her about the fact I hadn't brought her back either. I felt extremely guilty now.

Luckily for me, my eyes caught sight of the bottles ship, causing my thoughts to turn towards Bela. As I sat there looking at the object, my guilt began to turn to anger.

"You know what, you're right. I'm not gonna kill her. I think slow torture's the way to go."

Sam sighed, closing his book and getting up. "Dean, look, you gotta relax."

"Relax? Oh yeah, yeah, I'll relax. I can't believe she got another one over on us!"

"You."

I turned to him, unsure if I'd heard correctly. "What?"

"I... I mean, she got one over... on you... not us," he noted.

I paused, thinking it over, knowing he was right. When he shrugged, I snapped. "Thank you! Sam. Very helpful."

A knock on the front door had us both turn just as someone called out from outside. "Hello? Could you open up?"

Sam and I shared a look, knowing it was Bela. Hurrying over, we let her in. Not to help her. No, it's easy to hurt her if she's not on the other side of a door.

Despite our pissed glares, she looked to each of us as she spoke. "Just let me explain," she pleaded.

EPOV

I sat at the table facing Bela as Sam leaned against the fire place, glaring at her and Dean leaned over to her, looking extremely pissed. I knew they wanted nothing more than to rip her to shreds. But we couldn't. No, we'd agreed to at least hear her out first.

"I sold it," she admitted. "I had a buyer lined up as soon as I knew it existed. "

Dean, furious, pulled back and walked behind her, gesturing a finger gun at her, pretending to shoot. Moving, he came to sit next to me as Sam spoke.

"So the whole reason for us going to the charity ball was...?"

"I needed a cover," she answered. "You were convenient."

I shook my head as her. "If you sold it, buy it back."

"It's halfway across the ocean. I can't get it back in time."

Dean leaned forward, taking in the last part of her words. "In time for what?"

When she looked down guiltily I knew something was up. I knew something was wrong.

"What's going on with you, Bela? You look like you've seen a ghost," Sam noted.

Then it hit me. "You saw the ship."

Dean looked from me to Bela. "You what?" He paused a moment before shaking his head. "Wow, you know, I- I knew you were an immoral thieving con artist bitch, but just when I thought my opinion of you couldn't get any lower-"

She cut him off. "What are you talking about?"

"We figured out the spirit's motive." Sam came over to show her a picture he'd found. "This is the captain of our ship. The one who hung our ghost boy."

"So?" She shrugged.

"So, they were brothers," Sam explained. "Very Cain and Abel. So now our spirit, he's going after a very specific kind of target. People who've spilled their own family's blood. See first there was Sheila who killed her cousin in the car accident, and the Warren brothers, who murdered their father for the inheritance. And now you."

Bela pulled back, stunned. "Oh my God."

"So who was it, Bela?" Dean stood again, moving to lean over her once more. "Hmm? Who'd you kill? Was it Daddy? Your little sis, maybe?"

"It's none of your business."

"No?" He nodded. "Right. Well, have a nice life. You know, whatever's left of it." He gave her a hard pat on the back before turning to grab his jacket and leave. "Sam, Liz, let's go."

"You can't just leave me here," Bela exclaimed.

But Dean didn't care. "Watch us."

"Please." Bela turned to Sam and me. "I need your help."

"Our help?" Dean scoffed. "Now how could a couple of serial killers possibly help you?"

"Okay, that was a bit harsh, I admit it, but it doesn't warrant a death sentence."

"That's not why you're gonna die." Sam's tone was tense. He no longer hated her. No, he just didn't care. "What'd you do, Bela?"

She shook her head at him. "You wouldn't understand. No one did." She looked to each of us, realising she wasn't going to get any help from us. "Never mind. I'll just do what I've always done, I'll deal with it myself." Turning, she began to leave.

"You do realise you just sold the one thing that could save your life," Dean noted.

Slowly, frustrated, she turned to him. "I'm aware."

"Well," Sam sighed, "maybe not the only thing."

...

I could not believe I was standing in a cemetery with the Winchesters, agreeing to help save Bela. Yes, saving people is what we do, but her? She was more than willing to sacrifice Sam not too long ago.

Sometimes I hate being the better person...

A full moon hung above us. Sam stood by a grave where he placed five candles, a pentagram, a bowl that he'd poured some kind of red liquid into. There were a few other ingredients, but I was focussing on our surroundings more than I was focussing on him. The last thing we wanted was a surprise attack by our ghost.

"Do you really think this is going to work?" Bela asked, huddling in her jacket.

Leaning against a tombstone next to her, a gun in his hands just like myself, Dean shook his head. "Almost definitely not."

Thunder crashed above us as the wind began to pick up and rain began to pour.

"Sammy!" I called out. "You might wanna get to work."

Grabbing his father's journal, he began to read, "Aziel, Castiel, Lamisniel, Rabam, Ehrley, et balam, ego vos conuro, per deum verum, per deum vivum, cuivos cuiaves eos supermontes, et per eum, qui adam, et avum formovit, Et per eum..."

I was aware of him reading more Latin, but my attention was once again turned to our surroundings as the rain began to get heavier, the wind stronger.

"Stay close!" Dean told Bela.

"Behind you!"

At the sound of Bela's yell, Dean and I both turned to see the ghost appear. Before we could react, it grabbed Dean and threw him away. Dean landed hard against a tombstone, letting out a pained grunt on impact.

I placed myself between Bela and the ghost, raising my gun to shot it. Only, he flung the gun out of my hand, leaving me defenceless. As he reached for me, I knew I didn't have many choices here. So, without really think my actions through, I used my own abilities to push him away, to keep him from Bela.

Of course, that just pissed him off. Then, he disappeared.

"Elizabeth?" Bela stepped closer to me, her voice shaking from the cold but mainly from fear. "Where'd he go?"

"I don't-"

Suddenly I was flying through the air as the ghost reappeared. He had an opening and didn't hesitate. As I crashed against the same tombstone as Dean, landing beside him, I looked over in time to see the ghost touch Bela's cheek.

Her eyes went wide as she tried to breath, but instead she began to cough up water. The spirit just watched as she fell to her knees.

Dean and I got up and moved over to her as quickly as we could.

"Sammy, read faster!" Dean yelled.

Bela continued to cough up the water, struggling to stay alive. But I could see, as time went by, it was getting worse and harder.

Out of nowhere, the ran slowed before stopping entirely. Surrounding us was a sound of creaking wood, like an old ship.

The spirit turned to see another standing behind him. It was his brother.

"You... hanged me," he sneered.

The other brother looked to him with sad and guilt filled eyes. "I'm sorry."

"Your own brother."

"I'm so sorry!"

The evil ghost charged towards his brother. As he crashed into him they both yelled and screamed as they dissolved into water. before disappearing completely.

The moment they're gone, Bela stops coughing, no longer in danger of death.

DPOV

We were in the living room of the abandoned house, packing our things, when Bela walked in without a single knock. We turned to look at her for a moment before getting back to work.

"You should learn to lock your doors. Anyone could just barge in." She grinned.

"Anyone just did." Sam sighed, "Did you come to say goodbye or thank you?"

"I've come to settle affairs." She reached into her bag, pulling out three stacks of cash. "Giving the spirit what he really wanted, his own brother. Very clever, Sam. So here." She tossed a stack to each of us. "It's ten thousand. That should cover it." When we looked from the money to her, she shrugged. "I don't like being in anyone's debt."

"So ponying up ten grand is easier for you than a simple thank you?" As she smiled simply at me, I scoffed, shaking my head. "You're so damaged."

Her smile grew. "Takes one to know one. Goodbye lads, Elizabeth." With that, she turned and left.

"She's got style. You gotta give her that," Sam noted.

I nodded, looking down at my cash. "I suppose."

Grinning, watching me with the money, Sam shook his head. "You know, Dean, we don't know where this money's been."

"No." I took his stack, with a grin of my own. "But I know where it's going. I gave his chest a pat and moved back over to my things, laughing.

Liz rolled her eyes. "Here." She handed me her money. "You keep it. I don't want anything from her." She sighed and pushed off the couch, grabbing her things and walking out the door.

Shrugging, I stashed all three stacks into my bag. "Okay, let's go."

EPOV

It was dark out as we drove along the road. Dean was driving as usual, Sam was looking down at the map, while I rested my head against the window, looking out at the night sky.

"Seriously?" Sam turned to his older brother. "Atlantic City?"

"Hell yeah!" Dean grinned. "Play some roulette. Always bet on black."

I'd heard worse ideas before.

There was a pause before Dean spoke again, his grin gone. "Hey listen, I've been doing some thinking. Um... I want you to know I understand why you did it. I understand why you went after the crossroads demon." Sam simply sighed as Dean went on. "You know, situation was reversed, I guess I'd've done the same thing. I mean I'm not blind, I see what you're going through with this whole deal, me going away and all that. But you're gonna be okay." He looked to me through the rear-view mirror. "Both of you are."

"You think so?" Sam asked, tone flat.

"Yeah, you'll keep hunting. You know, you live your life. You're stronger than me. You are," Dean told him. Sam just cleared his throat. "You'll get over it. But I want you to know I'm sorry, I'm sorry. For putting you through all this, I am."

"You know what, Dean? Go screw yourself."

I turned away from the brothers looking out my window. I hated Dean saying all of this, sure. But I didn't want a fight to break out.

"What?" Dean sounded genuinely confused.

"I don't want an apology from you," Sam assured him. "And by the way, I'm a big boy now, I can take care of myself. Lizzie can take care of herself. We don't need you telling us that."

"Oh, well, excuse me."

Ignoring Dean, Sam went on, his voice rising, "So would you please quit worrying about us? I mean that's the whole problem in the first place. I don't want you to worry about me, Dean, I want you to worry about you! I want you to give a crap that you're dying!" he snapped.

I looked over to see Dean's only response was an annoying grin.

Sam shook his head at his brother. "So, that's it? Nothing else to say for you?"

"I think maybe I'll play craps." Dean shrugged.

Sam looked to his brother, outraged, but didn't say anything more. Dean concentrated on the road, also staying silent. While I turned to the window again. The tension into the car was thick, and uncomfortable and seemingly never ending.

Bamby

Tags will be on a separate post. If you would like to be tagged please send an ask, it’s just easier to organise this way.

[rudemaidenswrite]

What Now?

part 4

By @pusantheamazonian

part 1: https://rudemaidenswrite.tumblr.com/post/168537414261/what-now

part: 2: https://rudemaidenswrite.tumblr.com/post/169998134801/what-now

part 3 https://rudemaidenswrite.tumblr.com/post/169998376276/what-now

“So, if you are supposed to be making dinner, why are you eating pasta?”  Loki inquiries.

“I’m pre-gaming dinner, bitch.” Lucine finishes off rest of the pasta off quickly.

“What she means is that she is eating a snack beforehand so she will not be eating as she makes dinner. She is always snacking.” You look at Loki explaining before untangling yourself to start dinner.  You gather most of the items and place them on the counter.

“I’m just a slut for food.”

“So, you do anything for food?”  Loki is repulsed that Lucine would go that far for food.

“No, I have some standards.”

“Don’t let her lie to you.” You stare at Lucine in annoyance.

“I don’t blow people in parking lots for tacos. So, there are some standards, just not a lot.”

“I doubt it.” Turning to the counter you start slicing the chicken into stripes.

   Well I haven’t yet… Also, how big is Loki? Is he circumcised or uncircumcised? I have money and food riding on it.

 “Ew! No Lucine, why would you even ask that?” Embarrassed at the question.

“Cause I need to know! I told you I have money and food riding on it! $50 to be exact.” She slaps her hand down hard on the counter.

“Wait what just happened?” Loki interrupts.

“I just asked Ana how big your cock is and if you are circumcised or uncircumcised. I made a bet against Frankie about it. It was never settled because we didn’t have proof until now.” Lucine gestures at Loki.

Loki is genuinely flabbergasted. “You made a bet on that information?”

“Yes! We got into the debate if Thor was circumcised or not. But Norse mythology is the foundation of the North Germanic people stemming from Norse paganism, the Christianization of Scandinavia and Scandinavian folklore. We then compared that time frame of origin to other religions that do have the tradition of circumcision. Then also compared it to what countries are the most popular to have this performed. In the end we agreed that Thor is uncircumcised on the basis that Vikings and the Scandinavian people of that time were also uncircumcised.” Lucine babbles on as if it is nothing.

“You two are perverts. You really did all that research just to know is Thor was uncircumcised?” Loki not so sneakily, wraps an arm loosely around your waist. As he continues to engage Lucine.

“Duh! We’re girls, but you. We could not agree. I argued that you are circumcised based solely on the fact that jötun are intersex; you are gender fluid and classy. Frankie argued that you are uncircumcised because you were raised in Asgard, and that their customs is what you would have followed.”

“How?” Loki almost fumbles.

“I told you she was going to be all sass and in your face.” Chuckling you give Loki a soft smile.

“I have a Master’s in Norse Mythology and Minored in Old Norse language. Sweet cheeks.” Lucine smirks wiggling her eyebrows.

“Wow, I have my very own stalker.” Loki gloats in pride.

“Maybe, maybe not. I would rather be stalking Steve.”

“You mean Stars and Stripes?”

 She has a huge hard on for Steve.

 “Why become Miss America when I can become Mrs. America.” Lucine acts as if she is defending her honor.

“You like him that much?” Loki is disgusted.

“Loki, I would kill the whole planet if it gave me the chance to mount Steve.”

“I see that you both have evil tendencies.” He glances back and forth between you two.

“I don’t know what you mean.” Lucine acts innocent.

“Yeah right you are extremely salty. After your last boyfriend, you destroyed his car with a baseball bat.”

“It was never actually proven that it was I who Lucilled fuck twat’s car.” Lucine stuck her tongue out.

“Uh-huh.” You roll your eyes, nudging Loki to the side so you can wash your hands.

“Hold on. We skipped something. The original question was never said. Solana reacted and you said that you had asked her something.” Loki points at Lucine suspiciously.

“You didn’t tell him?”

“No. Honestly I forgot.” Turning around in Loki’s grip. You face Lucine.

“You forgot? How could you forget?” Lucine is confused.

“Excuse me, that it only works within a one-mile range.”

“What only works within a one-mile range?”  Loki demands.

“Oh well…Loki you remember when Tony accused me of being telepathic and I denied it?” Loki nods his head.  “Well I lied.”

“What?”

“It’s more like twin telepathy.” Lucine chimes.

“Twin telepathy?” Loki repeats making sure he heard right.

“Twin telepathy; well more like a psychic link. Scientifically there is no proof but it is speculated that twins or multiples are more likely to have a psychic link. Studies have suggested that it is because of the closeness and intimate connection that these people have starting from conception and living inside the womb.”  You rattle off the information quickly, not pausing for a breath.

When you do stop for a breath Lucine picks up. “But none of these studies tested to see if these multiples have the X-Gene. It is possible for a person to be a carrier of the gene and not know it or the gene has not been activated yet. So, to say that they are telepathic. They must be mutants whose X-Gene is activated.”

“How do you normally activate it?” Loki’s interested now. He wasn’t able to read much on mutant DNA. With the new enlightened information that you are a telepath, adds to his curiosity.

“Well there are several ways; being exposed mutagenic like chemicals, radioactive rays, while in the womb because the mother was put through extreme stress, or at birth, puberty, stress, trauma, fear, and starvation.” Lucine responds first.

“But the most common is puberty and emotional trauma.” Placing a hand on top of his, you give a small squeeze.

“So, you are saying that you two are telepathic?”

“In a sense yes.” You give him a goofy smile.

“It’s a closed-circuit link. Only me and Ana; just within a one-mile radius though.”

“But I can respond to the Professor and you though.” You mumble.

“The Professor is the Professor. Anyone can respond to him.” Lucine sighs.

“This is why you took it better than I expected when I used telepathy on you.” Loki eyes you with a mischievous smirk.

“Yeah, I thought it was a little weird the first time but I just ignored it.”

“You two are mutants?” Loki double checks.

“No, more like a subsect of mutants.”  Lucine starts to play with the empty bowl.

Pulling your hair up you continue. “When we four, we had to have blood transfusions. Hank says that our psychic link was caused by the radiation from the X-rays. The X-ray bonded the X-Gene from the blood transfusion to our DNA.”

“Hank suspects the we had the same donor who didn’t know they had the X-Gene. The professor said that we don’t even register on the map when he searches for new mutants.”

“We are as normal as twins can get.” Winking you turn back around to peel the onions.

“1. Who is Hank? 2. Don’t tell Tony.” Loki orders.

“I don’t plan to tell Tony. That would be crazy.” You look at him like he is nuts. Telling Tony would only cause more problems.

“You mean Dr. Hank McCoy the world-renowned biochemist, a brilliant intellect, who is a giant blue teddy bear.” Lucine is offended that Loki doesn’t know who Hank is.

“Lucine how do you know he is a giant blue teddy bear?” You question her suspiciously. Wondering if she has been stalking the X-mansion again.

“Cause 1. He has blue fur. 2. Lana told me. And if I get rejected by Steve I’m going to go love Hank a bunch more.” Lucine winked.

“Blue is her favorite color.” You whisper.

 *slam*

“Dad’s home. Time to look busy.” Lucine jumps off the stool. And pushes you out of the way, taking over the process.

Bumping into Loki he wraps his arms further around you as he steps backwards. Holding you away from the probably danger, Lucine with a knife.

“Still pulling that trick?” Laughing you cover you mouth with a hand.

“You know it.” The sass starts to ooze out of Lucine again.

Then the back door opens. In walks dad, hanging his baseball hat on the hook. The man is 6’1” with silver spread out through all of his black hair, goatee matching. This mountain of a man is a sweetie in disguise. He barely looks up but notices the way Loki is holding you. Before suddenly dropping his hands to the side and standing straight.

“Hi daddy. I’m making fajitas for dinner.”

“Hi dad!” You jog over and give him a hug.

“Ah so you finally brought someone home. When’s the wedding?”  He teases hugging you back.

“Dad, stop trying marry me off.”

“Well it’s a step closer than Lucine. She has scared all the boys away. There’s no hope for her.” He gives a fake sigh, gesturing towards Lucine.

“Thanks dad. Love you too. But you are forgetting that I haven’t scared Lukas or Newt away.” Lucine pauses to wave the knife around.

“Friends only by association.” You point out.

“Hey, I brought Lukas into our group. It’s Newt that is friends with us by association because he’s Lana’s brother.” Lucine glares at you.

“Dad, I brought someone home. His name is Loki and Lucine has already started her threats.” You try to change the subject.

 *chop*

The knife in Lucine’s hand comes down harshly beside Loki’s hand that is resting on the counter.

“Hey that was almost my hand.” Offended Loki tries to reprimand her.

“I missed.” Lucine says cold not bothering to look at him.

“Lucine Adelia, stop threatening him.” Dad grumbles staring at the two.

Lucine wretches the knife up and scowls. “Loki would you be a dear and fetch me the peppers from the fridge.” Lucine over exaggerates politely.

Loki vigilantly backs up and opens the fridge door. Maintaining eye contact with Lucine the whole way, in case she decides to throw the knife. After handing the peppers over. Loki is immediately grabbed by the arm as your dad drags him upstairs without a word said.

   What the hell?

 Ah…..You on your own. Dad probably wants to have the talk.

 The talk?

 The talk about us.

 “Ooh I hope it goes better than when I brought fuck twat over.” Lucine hums.

[askullinajar]

The Living Ghost (part 3/4)

(CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR TEG)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Fic info: takes place right after The Empty Grave. Rating: General. Pairings: Lockwood/Lucy and Holly/her ‘flatmate’. Ao3 link: here

“I leave for one minute and you let me get nicked again.”

“You were gone for a week!”

“Yeah, whatever. Some friend you are.”

Lucy comes home to find the skull missing. On their quest to get him back, Lockwood & Co. discover that the secret to eternal youth might not have been the only thing the Orpheus Society were striving towards.

Part 3 – Orpheus and Eurydice

I had had enough. I didn’t care what weird experiment the Orpheus Society had been attempting – it was George’s job to figure that out anyway – these freaks had done something to the skull and I wasn’t about to let them have their way any longer. No one messes with my friends.

I stood up, whipped off the sunglasses and thrust them at Lockwood, and stormed down the aisle towards the arena, where the Orpheus Society were too busy arguing and gesticulating towards the pit to even notice me straight away. That was fine by me. By the time they’d realised I was there, I’d already gotten close enough to give Mr Johnson a good, swift kick where it hurts. As he doubled over in pain, I lobbed a magnesium flare right into the centre of their little clubhouse cluster, and they scattered frantically away from the resulting explosion of Greek Fire.

I heard the rest of Lockwood & Co. hurtling down towards us and, trusting them to cover my back, I turned and charged across the iron bridge. I didn’t bother with a spirit-cape; whatever the Orpheus Society had done, it seemed to have drained the sources in the pit of their psychic energy. There were no ghosts in sight, just the boy on the podium.

It was the skull, alright – I recognised the spiky hair and thin face – except something was different. He was more solid, more detailed. I could make out freckles beneath the street-dirt on his face. It was almost as if…

I stepped closer, ignoring the explosions of more magnesium flares and the screams of the Orpheus Society behind me. This wasn’t right. I felt no cold or malaise, no miasma or creeping fear that usually comes with being in close proximity to the dead. I’d never heard of a ghost passing out either. But this was simply impossible.

I edged even closer and crouched down beside him. And watched in wonder as his chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm. Slowly, carefully, I reached out a finger and prodded his cheek. It was warm. I pulled my finger back quickly and stared at it; there was no ghost touch in sight.

I felt my heart racing in my chest. I reached out and, a little apprehensively, placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Skull?”

The youth stirred and groaned. “Lucy?” he said in an ever so familiar voice without opening his eyes. “Where am I?”

“Royal Albert Hall,” I told him, gently.

He opened his dark eyes blearily and stared up at the vast ceiling. “How did I…? Wait. Don’t tell me. I got stolen, didn’t I?”

“Hey!” I protested, all trace of sensitivity gone as I remembered how much he annoyed me at times. “It wasn’t my fault!”

“I leave for one minute and you let me get nicked again.”

“You were gone for a week!”

“Yeah, whatever. Some friend you are.” He pushed himself up and rubbed his eyes. Then stopped and stared down at his hand. “Um…” His dark eyes travelled to his shoulder where my hand was still resting. “This is… an interesting turn of events.”

“Yep. It would appear you’re alive,” I told him.

“Well, how ‘bout that?” He wiggled his fingers in front of his face experimentally. Then, suddenly, he scowled and huffed in annoyance. “Oh, this is just typical! I finally decide to move on, and some bloody Frankenstein wannabe goes and brings me back to life!”

“You were gonna move on?” I said, unable to help the hurt creeping into my voice, despite knowing in my heart he had chosen the right thing.

“Well, Luce, I would’ve loved to stay and hang out,” he said, giving me his old grin, “but I figured you’d join me soon enough anyway, so what’s the point?”

“I don’t nearly die that often,” I huffed as I helped him to his feet.

He patted my head in mock pity. “Of course not.”

As I held Skull upright with his arm slung around my shoulder, he looked around us at the fight still raging beyond the pit. “Ooh, quick, Luce,” he said, enthusiastically. “Now’s our chance! While they’re distracted, we can scarper and restart the old ‘Skull and Carlyle’! Our symbol can be a skull in a jar, for old time’s sake.”

“I am not leaving my friends to die,” I said, firmly.

“Oh, you are just no fun today.”

I stared across the bridge towards my friends, who had now used up their supply of flares and were standing defiantly with their backs to the bridge, rapiers drawn.

“Did no one tell them you shouldn’t bring swords to a gun fight?” Skull tusked, shaking his head. He had a point. The Society members were carrying numerous fire-arms, all trained on my friends, and rapiers would be no match against them.

“Wait here,” I told Skull, unslinging his arm from around my shoulder and running to join my friends.

“Oh, for Pete’s sake, Lucy! Do you want to die?” Skull called after me, but I ignored him. I drew my rapier and stood steadfast beside Lockwood, ready to go down fighting.

“Oh, please,” said Mr Johnson in his annoyingly weedy voice, “do you really think you stand a chance here?”

“We’ve managed before,” said Lockwood with a cold smile, his voice unwaveringly calm. His certain tone and the fire dancing in his eyes made us all feel a little braver. He often had that effect.

“Circumstances change,” said Mr Johnson. “I’m afraid we really can’t let you go after what you’ve seen today. Especially not with your friend. We aren’t done with him just yet.” He nodded towards Skull who was now leaning casually against the railing of the bridge, watching us and making no move to get to safety.

“You can die now, remember?” I called back to him.

“Hence why I’m staying right here and letting you take all the fire, love,” he called back, inspecting his nails with disinterest. I rolled my eyes and turned back to stare down Mr Johnson.

“You know, I was wondering about the name,” George mused. “The whole ‘finding the secret to eternal youth’ thing didn’t seem to fit. But bringing back the dead… that’s just was Orpheus did with his wife Eurydice. I must say, the name makes much more sense now.”

“Reviving the dead is our primary goal,” Mr Johnson confirmed, “and one we’ve had a lot of trouble with until just recently.” He glanced down at his watch, idly. “But I’m afraid the time for chitchat is over. I think it’s about time we paid Ms Fittes a visit.” He turned to his fellow Society members. “Kill them.”

We leapt into action. I dived down just as a stream of electricity shot over my head and hit a seat in the stalls, filling the hall with the stench of burning plastic. I rolled forwards and, as I came up, swept my rapier in an arc, slicing through a man’s wrist and causing him to drop his black, snub-nosed gun. I picked it up and fired a shot at the man, striking him directly in the chest with a jet of electricity, blasting him back so he smashed through a row of seats. I then trained the gun on the woman who had done the exchange, who was currently aiming at Holly with a harpoon gun. I fired, and the woman hurtled over the stalls, her gun crashing to the ground, which Holly then picked up and threw to George.

Nearby, Lockwood was ducking and weaving with graceful fluidity around the blasts of electric guns, aiming to get close enough to use his rapier. Kipps had somehow managed to break off the back of a nearby seat and was using it as a shield as George stood behind him, firing harpoons left, right and centre. Honestly, with George’s aiming skills, it would have been a lot safer if Holly had tossed the gun to Kipps instead, but no matter; she had managed to acquire another electric gun, by way of a well-aimed kick, and had joined George and Kipps.

I felt a thrill looking around me, at our beautiful array of seamless teamwork. It was times like these when Lockwood & Co. truly felt like a united unit, ready to take on the world. It was also times like these that things tended to go horribly wrong.

Mr Johnson decided to join the fight. He had retrieved a gun off his own, one that fired ghost bombs.

A silvery glass bulb shattered at my feet and the spectre of a woman, clothed in rags with her mouth sliced open into a gruesome smile, appeared before me, reaching out with bony fingers. Automatically, I sliced her through with my rapier. Her image flickered and reappeared only a few feet back.

All around me, ghost bombs shattered and Visitors rose up from their sources. The air grew bitterly cold and my breath puffed out in front of me. Malaise fogged my head, fear crept into my heart, my limbs grew heavy with ghost-lock. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Kipps hurriedly putting on his goggles. Numerous spectral voices whispered in my head.

“… cold… so cold…”

“… come back… please come back… my little girl…”

“… I can’t… I can’t breathe…”

“… give us a smile… you look prettier when you smile…”

Mr Johnson had done his job; we were scattered and distracted, frantically swiping through Visitors with our rapiers, unable to keep an eye on the Orpheus Society and their guns.

I heard an electric gun go off. Heard Holly scream. I whipped around to see her gripping her arm. I fired the gun I was still holding at the man who had shot her, and Lockwood cut through a wraith that was coming towards her.

My gun was still raised, I was still facing Holly, so I didn’t have time to react when I heard the gun go off behind me.

“LUCY!” I heard Lockwood scream. I squeezed my eyes shut and waited for the pain. But none came. I turned around to see the silver-tipped harpoon hovering in the air right at eye-level before it clattered harmlessly to the floor. Cold air brushed my ear. I turned, raising my rapier to fight the grinning spectre off again, but a mighty gust of spirit-wind caught her source – a cracked, hand-held mirror – and blew it into the iron pit, forcing the ghost with it.

I turned to the pit to see Skull stepping idly off the bridge. “You still have ghost powers?!” I screamed. “Why didn’t you say anything?!”

Skull shrugged. “You didn’t ask.”

“YOU ABSOLUTE –”

“Hold on a sec,” Skull interrupted. He raised a finger and a broken seat rose into the air and hurtled at a man who had been aiming a gun towards George and Kipps. The gun flew out of his hand as he careened backwards out of the arena, crashing down onto a row of seats which splintered beneath his weight. “Ooh, that’s gotta hurt.”

Okay, I guess I couldn’t complain when he was saving my friends. But still, he was so annoying sometimes.

“This is impossible!” Mr Johnson roared as Skull created a whirlwind that swept up the other sources and hurled them into the pit.

“Guess you still have some kinks to sort out!” Skull hollered at him, gleefully.

“YOU LITTLE –” Mr Johnson grabbed a gun off the floor, aimed it at Skull and pulled the trigger.

“Skull!” I screamed, but I needn’t have worried. Skull simply stepped to the side and the jet of electricity merely grazed his arm.

Skull seemed faintly taken aback at the scratch on his arm. He pressed a finger to it and pulled back to look at the blood. “Huh…” Then he seemed to remember Mr Johnson. He raised a hand and Mr Johnson’s gun gave a violent jerk backwards, smacking him right between the eyes. He swayed on the spot for a moment, cross-eyed, then crumpled to the ground in a heap.

The auditorium was silent for a moment, aside from the whispering of the newly trapped ghosts in the pit, and we stared around at the last dregs of the Orpheus Society, slumped, charred and unconscious.

“That was fun!” Skull announced, coming up behind me and slinging his arm around my shoulders. “Honestly, I have missed beating up people.”

“You stink like a Victorian street urchin,” I told him, wiggling out of his grasp.

“I am a Victorian street urchin,” he reminded me. “And you’re welcome, by the way.”

I couldn’t help the smile tugging at my lips. “Thank you,” I said. “And sorry for letting you get nicked again.”

“Just so long as you always come find me,” he said, shrugging.

George was staring at Skull in wonder. “You are literally a miracle of science!” he enthused. “I wonder why you’re still somehow connected to the Other Side. I mean, you’re like a living ghost! Was it because you were already a powerful ghost? Or because the power supply failed? Or did they use too many sources? I have so many experiments I want to try out!”

“Come anywhere near me, Cubbins,” Skull said, coldly, “and I’ll remove your head, stick it in a jar, and perform torturous experiments on your ghost every. Single. Day.”

George looked a little uncomfortable at that.

“First things first,” said Lockwood, looking around at the mess after leading Kipps and Holly over to some still-intact seats, “I think we’d better contact DEPRAC.”

Previous Next

[begrimedchains]

@azarovsslayer

   The bed of the silver truck had seen better foggy nights ever since Evan had deemed the covert den of mildewed blankets and half melted candles--condemned enough for him to justifiably to flip the vehicle onto its side and spill out its sweat-stained spoils. The fact that the Trapper had even traipsed close enough to Phil’s sanctuary to get a whiff of mixed musks was primarily Billy’s fault. The Thompson boy was not only sheltered to the ways of tactical deceit, but he didn’t have the psychical capacity to curl his lips around words in the way his Shadow Ma could and make them sound convincing even when they weren’t necessarily true. So it was no surprise then when the Trapper, sensing Billy’s aversion to one side of the wrecker’s yard, stormed in to see what his “kid brother” was hiding. Having all those musty blankets he’d collected from his house’s attic trapped under a truck wouldn’t have mattered much to him if Phil’s favorite place to perch and listen to the voices in the fog wasn’t completely inaccessible.

    Fortunately, the place looked trashed enough not to illicit any more suspicions from Evan, who detested personal hideouts and the time they took away from killing hands he expected to be on call near the campfire at all times. With his hammer and fingernails, Billy had dug a shallow grave in the safety of the shadows beneath the tipped truck-bed. Once there was enough room more blankets and candles if the Wraith wanted, Billy even brought some hay from the barn to insulate the burrow and keep the moist dirt from finding its way between the folds of his flesh.

   “Ah know it ain’t th’same as it was...” He admits once he feels the Wraith twisting by his side as if the bloodhound were trying to work himself into a comfortable position that was only available in their previous set-up. “But ah fixt it ups best ah could so ya gots yer own little place.” Away from the chaos at the campfire that Billy thrived in well enough, but knew Phil better than to expect him to always lurk near the flames on any occasion other than business as usual. He expects it will take some time for Phil to adjust to the new cave-like charm of the den, but he doesn’t expect a bandaged arm to slide behind his shoulders. Tilting his body at the soft urging, Billy gladly roots closer to Phil’s side when he spies the smile lingering in the pale glow of the spirit hunter’s gaze. “Evan jus busted it up ‘cause he’s sore an cain’t get none from Sally.” Sharing his theory with a similar smile stuck in his shining stare, Billy finds Phil’s fist resting a ways from his ear and gives it a slow, fond squeeze. “Nothin’ll bust us up though, will it?”

[allof-theocs]

The Psychic Squad: Chapter Two

Ryna picked at some dirt beneath her fingernails and yawned. What was taking them so long? Jed was pacing by the door, driving her bonkers. The constant click of his boots on the concrete itched her brain. “Can you cut that out?” She snapped. He abruptly stopped pacing and sat down beside her, promptly beginning to tap his toes nervously on the ground. “Jesus, Jed!” Ryna threw her hands in the air. “You’re wigging me out!”

Jed said nothing, but sighed, and began to silently dum his fingers on his knees. Thank god for small mercies, Ryna thought. The prospect of going near the cove again must have been getting to Jed, after all, he and Alaina were so close when she- No, she wouldn’t let herself think about it. It wouldn’t do her any good. She was tempted to look into Jed’s mind, and get a more exact read on his thoughts, but brushed off the idea. Telepathy was unwarranted at the moment. Either way, Ryna had a pretty clear idea of what was going on inside his head.

The girl’s eyebrows perked up when she sensed Dee and K’s energy moving towards them. She was surprised that Dee was actually able to convince K to do this. Their mental signatures moved closer to the door, and Ryna mentally prepared herself for Kellen’s barrage of uncontrolled emotions. This, however, never came. Kellen was surprisingly serene when they stepped out into the cool night air. “Hey team.” Dee raised a hand. “You guys set?” She asked.

Jed nodded and stood. “Yep.” Ryna said.

“What’s our plan, Jed?” Dee asked.

He cleared his throat. “We go to the cusp of the outer rim. Kellen and I will scan the area and formulate an attack strategy. This will utilise my Claircognizance and K’s Spatial Empathy. Ryna and I will start close quarters combat in sector one, Dee will run interference and disrupt the Specters’ movements with her soundwave manipulation. Kellen will, of course, attack from a distance, and alert us over coms if she senses anything.” He finished. “Any questions?”

Dee raised a hand. “Uh, no questions, but a warning. I’m not going to remind you what happened last time we failed to work as a unit near the cove. It’s something that none of us are likely to forget.” Dee picked at a seam on her yellow suit. “We should not let ourselves get separated under any circumstance. I refuse to leave any of you behind.”

The team exchanged solemn glances and nodded in agreement. None of them wanted a repeat of the Alaina disaster. Ryna prayed they wouldn’t find her there as a Specter. “Alright, then. Let’s go!” Dee said, and waved for the team to follow her, as always, eager for excitement.

 Jed had always counted on his intuition to lead the way. Claircognizance never steered him wrong in the face of opposition, but there was something about the cove that deeply unsettled him. He wasn’t sure whether it was the memory of Alaina’s death, or the sheer wrongness of the quarantined zone that scrambled his thoughts. If he wasn’t trying so hard to concentrate on the task at hand, he might have cursed his foggy mind.

Kellen was scanning sector one with her Spatial Empathy, eyes squeezed shut in concentration. It was always easy to tell when a teammate was astral projecting. K’s form had a non presence in reality; her astral body was somewhere in sector one checking on the status of the specters. Suddenly her eyes snapped open and she withdrew her hand from the ground. Jed touched her shoulder, gaining the information she had gathered in astral form, his eyes flashing bright blue for a moment, formulating a strategy in his mind. “Got that, Ryna?” he asked. Ryna nodded and her eyes flashed green as she telepathically transferred the battle plans to the rest of the team.

They’d attack from the West side of sector one, clear out the toughest of the Specter guards then pick off the stragglers. Kellen would snipe down the worst of the threats from the Jagged Peak. Dee would chorale the spectors, basically performing crowd control, keeping them all within K’s sights. Ryna and Jed would tank the horde, she with her swords, nimble and quick, he with his axe, brutish and powerful.

K aimed her grappling hook at Jagged Peak and sped off through the air. When she landed at Jagged Peak, she set off a burst of energy, illuminating her astral wings to the naked eye; the signal that she was in place. Ryna, Jed, and Dee dropped down into the valley, fired off their own winged flares, and rushed the first Specters they saw.

They were terrifying, yet strangely beautiful creatures. Specters all had iridescent, silver hair, and a sickly hue. Their eyes, once filled with life, were now soulless blue without any pupil or shine; some said that the eyes were the first thing that changed when someone became a Specter, and there was no going back after that point.

Everything had been going according to plan for the first ten minutes of battle; most of the powerful Specters had been successfully eliminated and the weaker ones were dropping like flies. Ryna had just delivered a roundhouse kick to a Specter and shoved a sword into its side, scattering it into a million fractured pieces. Jed noticed that Dee had stopped choraleing specters into a point of attack and whirled around to see what the issue was.

His teammate was frozen on the battlefield, looking directly at a Specter, tears streaming down her face. Jed’s eyebrows were knotted in confusion until the saw the identity of the Specter. He almost dropped his axe when he saw Alaina’s vacant face looking back at him with an empty smile, one that made his blood run cold. He knew this wasn’t the Alaina they knew, the one he had loved. This creature was a hollow imitation, a shadow of the girl that was once so full of life. It was everything he could do to not sink to his knees in despair, but he held strong and stood his ground on the encroaching horde of lesser Specters. He moved in defense of Dee, who was still paralyzed with fear, shattering two creatures on either side of her. “What are you doing!” He pulled Dee away from Alaina’s attack.

The look on his friend’s face clenched at his heartstrings. “Alaina…” Dee whispered. He had to pull back his friend once more when the Specter swung a mace at her face.

“Snap out of it, Dee!” He shook her. “It’s not Alaina!”

“How could you say that!” She hissed at him tearfully. “We could save her!”

“No, it’s never been done! It’s impossible!” Jed’s heart rate was through the roof. “You have to let her go, Dee, she’s gone. There’s nothing in there. The real Alaina has moved on to the next life.”

“No!” Dee struggled free from her friend’s grip and ran towards Alaina. She dropped her weapons and held out her arms, ready to embrace her dead friend, but stopped cold, two yards away. An arrow had gone straight through Alaina’s chest. Dee barely had time to cry out before Alaina dissolved into a million pieces before her.

@kalipygos @gacfan14 @confusedwithglitter

Teiya, your character will be in the next chapter, I promise!

[theflashdriver]

Just Five Minutes (A Silvaze Oneshot)

Heavy was the head that wears the crown, both due to the burden carried by its owner and the lack of sleep that accompanied it. Blaze the cat was known for being a workaholic, friends and colleges alike has claimed such and made efforts to curtail her tendencies. To some extent her overworking was indeed self-imposed, it was in her nature to take on burdens and the work of others, but it wasn’t solely her own fault. As the singular monarch of the Sol kingdom, she worked long hours with little hope of respite.

One o’clock was nearing, it was only fourteen minutes away, yet Blaze had already sat through two meetings totalling almost four hours between them. The day had started at half past seven with some additional reading and preparation, she was supposed to have had a pair of hour and a half long meetings yet both had seen fit to overextend by around fifteen minutes. It wasn’t that these meetings were unimportant per say, the first had been regarding a foreseen bumper crop while the second had concerned utilising more modern defences to protect the Sol emeralds, but both of them going into overtime was taking its toll.

The twenty-one-year-old princess was supposed to have a half hour break between each meeting, supposed to being the operative words. A half hour break cut in half once more, it’d be comical if it wasn’t such a common occurrence. Even if there was no break whatsoever between these discussions, she was supposed to retain a prim and proper attitude whilst her visitors could yawn and slouch without risk of it being taken as an afront. Even doffing her usual guardian’s outfit, her robes and tights, risked being viewed as some sort of afront. As she walked the palace halls, now free from that stuffy meeting room, she knew that she was stewing on this much too intently. If she kept this up, she wouldn’t enjoy this brief hiatus and her patience would wear thin when the next meeting undoubtedly exceeded its allotment.

Groggily, she shouldered her way through a set of old double doors and into the library. The scent of old paper and stagnant air hit her, but it signalled a sort of sanctuary. She moved quickly across the emerald carpeted floor, breezing along the great wall formed by the historic fiction section. The massive room was like a labyrinth lined from floor to ceiling with books, but she knew her path through it better than anyone else. It didn’t take long for her to notice that a few tomes had been lifted, a pair on specific pirates and three more containing hyperbolised accounts of the island’s early history. If she hadn’t known he was here, then that would be a clear indication of his presence.

She coasted along the next wall, passing by historic poetry, before crossing by a section filled with pure historic nonfiction. The old wooden shelves that framed her surroundings were surely soon due their monthly dusting, a job that her partner had taken on with gusto in an effort to make this space nicer for the pair of them. As she snuck past yet another library shelf, she swore she heard him snort. With no more than a parse at the row upon row of encyclopaedias, she rounded the final corner and her eyes fell upon him.

Lounging on their shared couch at the heart of the library was Silver the hedgehog, three days into his return from the other world’s future. Both of them had dramatic burdens on their shoulders, she had a world to run while he was tasked with saving his, but to say that he was enjoying his rest would be an understatement. Books were piled on the coffee table before the psychic, claiming residence beside a filled fruit bowl, and he was currently nose deep in a newer retelling of Jet the Second of Babylon’s exploits. He’d taken on clothes too, adding to snug display. She’d stolen the maroon hoodie he was wearing on a number of occasions and his ability to wear baggy grey tracksuit bottoms as he pleased was making her quite envious.

Sneaking behind him, she placed her chin atop his head and draped her arms across his chest. Though she felt him shift, he quickly seemed to relax as he realised just who was holding him. Her eyes dared to close as she took comfort. He’d arrived in as messy a state as usual, smelling of old sweat and thoroughly filthy. Three days deep into bathing though, he smelt of pines and was unbelievably fluffy.

“You look too comfortable, mind if I join you?” She heard the tone of a princess in her voice and winced, “Sorry I’m late.”

“You sound tired,” She felt his hand reach up and his thumb caressed her cheek, “Did everything go okay?”

“We just ran over time, it was as mundane as ever,” She sighed, pulling herself away and rounding the couch. She shrugged off her purple robe, revealing the white tank top beneath, but knew she wouldn’t be free for long. In an attempt to make up for lost time, she immediately lay across the couch and set her head in his lap.

His book was quickly put aside, and their eyes met for the first time today. Age had certainly treated the hedgehog kindly, granting him a height that she couldn’t match even in heels. His shoulders had broadened, and his voice had deepened but that innocent spark still lingered in his piecing yellow eyes, reminding her of what an innocent he was. Casually, she sank a hand into the small plume of chest fur that had escaped him clothes and watched his smile grow warmer.

What they were to each other now had gone unspoken for months, if not years. The nature of their relationship had only ever been confronted through actions like this for a multitude of reasons, not the least of which were their duties. Still, that made things fun, it meant she could perform actions like this and watch as he struggled to react. Blush had claimed his cheeks and he’d quickly broken from their stare-off. She had won, as was so often the case.

“Are you hungry?” He asked, his gaze having undoubtedly fallen on the fruit bowl.

“Famished,” She replied, yawning up at him.

With a whir of psychic energy, Blaze watched a bunch of grapes drift into view before arriving in his hand. He gently lowered his hand and, without so much as blinking, she bit one from the vine. He’d probably filled the bowl himself before coming, the hedgehog had a serious sweet tooth, but she’d started to wean him off of chocolate and towards fruit as of late. His sugar intake was still ludicrous, but he was on the path to improving at least.

“I’m sorry it’s not a proper lunch, Marine needed more help that I’d thought,” He claimed a grape for himself. They’d intended to meet during her first break but a call from the raccoon had dashed that plan, “Apparently her ship had sank an hour before she called me in, but she didn’t want to admit that.”

“Hush,” She commanded, claiming some more fruit, “If you’re that worried about it then you can make me something in time for the next break. A little sugar boost will more than get me through,” The feline elaborated, “Did you manage to fish it out the ocean?”

“I did, and it’s mostly patched up, but I think it’ll take her another day or so to get it ready. She had a bit of a pre-emptive launch,” He explained.

For a while they simply lived in silence, quiet and calm. Moments like these were still rather new to them, intimate in a way they hadn’t really experienced. The fact that they could just exist like this for a while, sharing food and unwinding, was wonderful. He hadn’t known comfort in this lifetime, just as he hadn’t the prior, but she was here now to make certain that he did. They were together and they were safe; in moments like this, she could thing of nothing else.

Blaze found herself snuggling deeper into his lap, relaxing her shoulders and clasping her hands. Soon the sound of her purring came to fill the air, overwhelming the silence. This was the closest to the traditional view of a princess that her life got. It was all work, none of what the storybooks had told her. She worked constantly and fought to defend her world, she was born into a position of equal proportions servitude and luxury. At least Silver could open her eyes to the latter, even whilst the former hung over them.

She swallowed another mouthful, realising that a thought wriggled its way to the forefront of her mind, “What time is it?” She was ruining what little time they had but she had to know.

Silver glanced over his shoulder toward the library’s ancient grandfather clock. It had been introduced when the castle was first built but, gradually, none of the original remained, “Five minutes to one,” He glumly responded.

“Only five minutes left already,” She mused, “More like three, considering the walk.”

She heard him sigh, “It’s not fair…”

“It’s the path I’m on, there’s no escaping it,” She eased him, biting another grape off the vine, “In a handful of minutes I’ll be back in that room, discussing the construction of a new graveyard and replacing old tombstones.”

“A handful of minutes…” He hummed.

Blaze looked beyond the bushel and found that a quirk had entered his expression. Silver and new ideas were a paring that often mixed strangely. The hedgehog wasn’t unintelligent but his still relative inexperience with social situations and the nature of the modern world had led to some rather embarrassing situations. Innocently embarrassing of course, but certainly still worth avoiding.

Pushing the grapes aside she looked him in the eye, “What are you thinking, Silver?”

“What if that handful of minutes didn’t have to be just a handful?” He thought aloud, allowing his hand to mingle with his chest fur and quickly finding hers, “What if that handful of minutes could be as long as you wanted it to be?”

She flipped her right hand, interlocking her fingers with his, “It’s important work, I need to get back to it. There’s no way of changing the system to make that go away. You know how important my role is.”

“I know it is but,” He squeezed her hand, “You’ve already missed half of your break today, you deserve that much at least, right?”

“You’re so naïve,” Blaze yawned again, “I’ve missed it, so it’s gone. Rushing through meetings, or avoiding them to steal it back, isn’t an option. Let’s just enjoy the time we have.”

“But what if you could have it…” He hummed again, releasing her hand, “What if I could get you it…” Blaze sat up, turning to face him only to find that he’d looked away. Before she could open her mouth again, he’d jumped to his feet, “I’ll be right back. Don’t worry, I can do this.”

“Silver,” As the hedgehog went to stand, Blaze caught his hand. While she had an inkling of what he was going to attempt, she just didn’t know how safe it was, “You don’t have to overdo it, not for me.”

“You’re clearly tired and I want to help you, Blaze,” As he smiled down at her, speaking so honestly, she couldn’t help but feel a butterfly flap in her stomach, “I’ll do whatever it takes, even if it only changes things a little,” She let go of her hand and his smile grew even bigger, “I’ll be right back.”

The hedgehog took off like a shot, vanishing amongst the bookshelves, but Blaze didn’t hear his footfalls for long. There was a flash of cyan light, accompanied by a rumbling like thunder, and then the hedgehog was gone from the library, likely even from the entire castle. The princess glanced to the library’s grandfather clock. Her next meeting was set to start in three minutes. Had he not just run off then she would be preparing, hurrying back in the hopes of brushing up on the itinerary.

Her gaze dropped to the bunch of grapes he’d left but, just as she was about to pluck one, another thundercrack rolled through the library. Blaze looked up only to find that a portal had manifested in front of her, a bright cyan disk that washed the table, couch and her in its psychic glow. Just as quickly as it had manifested, Blaze watched as a hand with a familiar circular symbol reached through and into the library. She rose quickly, grabbing her robe before stepping over the table and toward the gateway. She took one last glance at the clock; she only had two minutes left, but how long did he plan to make those last? Blaze took his hand, closed her eyes and, feeling his tug, stepped into the warbling energy wall.

A change in air pressure immediately greeted her. The feline felt a gentle breeze blow through her fur, yet sunlight was shining warmly upon her. A stumbling step that brought her fully free from the portal lead her to discover the thick grass underfoot, matched by the mixed scent of countless wildflowers. She blinked away the difference as, in an instant, her world had gone from being lit by electrical lights to basking in a sun shining overhead. Around her, and even from far afield, Blaze could hear the hum of insects mixing with all manner of marvellous birdsong.

Her eyes fell upon the hedgehog who’d brought her here. In what had been mere seconds to her had been long enough for him not only to choose this location but his garb entirely. The hedgehog stood before her dressed in a short sleaved, open-buttoned, teal paisley shirt with accents of orange and white throughout the pattern. A set of still comfortable looking black trousers had taken the place of his joggers and he’d donned a set of hiking boots. As nice as his clothes were though, they couldn’t hold her attention like the overexcited grin on his muzzle.

He stepped out the way, revealing both a picnic spread and a far better view of their surroundings. Beyond the woven basket and tartan blanket, Blaze could see tree after tree stocked with ripe peaches, on the verge of dropping, and rolling green hills that spanned out towards the horizon. She soon however found herself becoming lost in the smaller beauties of this band new landscape. Lavender, crocuses, violets, bluebells, buttercups and countless other species of small flower covered the ground but around them were also foxgloves that harboured blundering bumblebees and wild sunflowers on magnificently tall stalks. The sight of a green hummingbird, daring to fly so curiously close out of blissful innocent, pulled her from staring at their surroundings.

There was no one else here, it seemed like no one had ever been here. When the hedgehog has left, she’d known his plan was to travel through time and find them a peaceful spot, but she’d expected to arrive somewhere in the reccent past or the other dimension. This must have taken far more effort than that, it absolutely had to. Not only had he found a place so wonderful but he’d found it on a day that the sky was perfect, errant clouds were drifting through the sky but never lingering too long in front of the sun. The grass wasn’t wet, rainfall must have been days prior, and yet the world around them was so vibrant.

“Silver, where are we?” She asked, her mouth agape.

“Where? We’ve hardly left where you were sitting,” He cheekily answered, wandering back to sit on the far side of the blanket, “We’re now on a simple grass plain on an undiscovered island, you’ll sit on that couch, around about where we are now, in a little under two thousand years.”

The feline walked to the edge of the blanket, “How long did it take you to find this time? How many days did you cycle through?”

“Well, I got us a good while away from the folks first landing on the island and then kept trying this same day every year until it was nice,” He answered casually but his blush betrayed how proud he was of this plan, “I think I went through a couple hundred years before picking this one.”

“And I take it this safe?” She lowered herself to sit, still eying him intently, “There’s no chance of a time paradox?”

“As long as we don’t do anything to disrupt the land, nothing should change. The timeline seems to do what’s easiest, it can stomach a small change like this,” He promised, opening the hamper with a wave of his hand, “Picking the spot was the last thing I did, gathering and cooking everything took way longer.”

Silver began to waggle his fingers in the air, almost like he was pretending to conduct. Blaze watched as shapes began to dance free from the basket. First came a large, sealed, pitcher, plainly filled with raspberry lemonade and still containing a half dozen frozen ice cubes. Next came a large silver serving dish which, upon landing, removed its top to reveal a spread of far more sandwiches than they could ever hope to eat. From tuna and cucumber to cheese and tomato, all manner of fillings had manifested in the blink of an eye. Soon after followed a troop of cupcakes set atop a two-tier stand, each iced a different colour and decorated from sweets ranging from lemon jelly slices to maraschino cherries to give each cake their own theme.

Silver the hedgehog could make wonderful use of a minute, that much was more than clear, but how long had that minute lasted for him?

“Just how long did you spend on this,” She squinted at him, causing the hedgehog to break eye contact.

“N-Not longer than eight hours?” He gulped.

“Silver!” The feline shouted, genuinely shocked. She’d expected a couple of hours, three at most, but eight?

“I can rest up and everything will be fine, we can stay here for as long as you like,” He promised, “As long as you don’t plan to stay for more than two hundred years, then we might bump into your ancestors.”

“I should have you send us back right now, this is far too much of an effort and I didn’t contribute anything,” She was flustered, again slipping into the voice she used to rule, but she was anything but upset with him.

“You just being here is more than enough on its own,” Silver responded, clearly growing flustered himself, “I-It’s not like I did this all totally on my own, I went to the other dimension and Amy let me use her oven. I didn’t want to go back and use mine in case I encountered Marine or messed something up permanently.”

In a lot of ways, Blaze knew she was exceptionally lucky to have Silver in her life, let alone to have a relationship like this with him. For as mundane as the cooking behind his effort was, and as normal as their prior time in the library had been, the hedgehog was anything but regular and so casual in how he showed it. No one else could ever have come remotely close to what she was experiencing right now, no one else had a partner who could stretch a minute into eight hours before whisking them away for as long as they liked. The feline almost felt selfish for keeping him all to herself like this but she knew that, fundamentally, that he did this because he cared. He’d seen how bedraggled she was and wanted to make her happy, to shirk this opportunity would be foolish. That and, well, he’d set this up for her to take advantage of. Blaze could tease him to her heart’s content, and no one was around to catch them in the act.

“We can eat, we can rest, we can explore,” He offered, awkwardly smiling at her again, “We can do whatever you want.”

“Whatever I want, hm,” The feline pawed her way across the blanket and toward the hedgehog, “I think I’d like to retake our prior position.”

With half a yawn and no further warning, she pushed her way to rest her head atop the hedgehog’s lap. She’d always known that he made a good pillow but something about this position, coupled with the warmth of the sun seeping into her fur, was truly blissful. Their cloistered times in the library were wonderful, but there was something entirely heavenly about doing this so publicly yet not having to worry about the prying eyes of others. There was no chance of rumours, no potential for tabloids, just the two of them, enjoying each other’s company. The sight of the blue sky above as they did this too; something about it felt so liberating.

“You said you were famished, right? I managed to get fresh salmon,” As he babbled, she glanced up at him. The hedgehog had used his power to draw one of the triangle-cut sandwiches from the tray, “I guess that’s not much of a feat when you can time travel but-

Before he could undersell himself, the feline reached up and shooed away his glowing aura. The sandwich retrieved, she only spoke two words, “Thank you,” That alone was enough to restoke the fire on his muzzle.

The clink of ice filled her ears as she took the first bite, signalling that he was pouring them drinks through the use of his power. Seared salmon and baby spinach in a delicately creamy sauce, the flavours mingled to perfectly. If every single one of those sandwiches had this level of effort put into them then the long hours he’d mentioned more than made sense. It’d be akin to making four or five separate dishes and then reshaping them to suit sandwiches, atop that even crafting the cupcakes and drink.

As a glass filled to the brim with a faint pink liquid drifted towards Blaze, she looked up to him again, “You really did go too far with all of this. You know I was expecting to arrive in the other dimension or the past, to step into some kind of café or a different library.”

“I may have gotten a little overexcited, Amy did tell me I was going overboard. Even if she then insisted that I go all out…” He admitted as she took a sip. It was frightfully sweet, as one should anticipate a concoction made by the two hedgehogs would be, but surprisingly subtle in its flavouring. The lemon only faintly undercut the primary raspberry taste, “I kind of owe her now. I promised to help her do something similar for her and Sonic…”

“Well, it does seem that you have a knack for this,” She complimented him before taking another sip, “I’m sure she’ll be more than pleased with wherever and whenever you send them.”

“She already has ideas, but I’m scared of granting her free reign in the past,” He cringed, “I need to find a middle ground between an interesting place and somewhere it’d be difficult to change the future,” She watched as a cupcake flew through the air, the hedgehog hadn’t had a sandwich yet but she was too comfortable to scold him, “I was thinking about letting them go on a winter date in the middle of summer… she seemed to think that was a great idea.”

“That does sound rather romantic. Very unique,” Blaze responded, before a likely truth ran through her mind, “Although, she’ll probably want you to surprise him with it. If you do that, she’ll surely be ready for the cold while he won’t be. It’ll be an opportunity to get closer to him, in more ways than one.”

“She wouldn’t let him freeze, right?” He asked, so very innocently.

“No, she certainly wouldn’t,” The pyrokinetic half-joked, “But I think, deep down, he’d enjoy that just as much as her.”

Conversation ebbed and flowed, just as the tide or changes in the clouds. One moment they would be discussing the food but the next they would be simply holding each other and enjoying their serene surroundings, only to later end up laughing about their friends’ potential antics. They were never quiet for too long, but conversation never felt forced or as though it was some sort of requirement, it was allowed to come and go as it pleased. Silver’s pointing out of a cloud shaped like Cream’s head led to a long span of time where they stared to the sky, occasionally pointing out the strange forms they observed. It was all so regular, so fundamentally plain, and it brought her nigh unending peace. Though she yawned throughout their meal, Blaze never found herself falling asleep.

His arms had found their way to hold her, clasping just above her bellybutton. This had been intended to relax her, but the princess couldn’t help but take in how peaceful her partner looked. He’d been so overexcited, but he’d equally worked so hard. It wasn’t surprising to see him so tired. After another long bout of silence, the hedgehog began to shift.

“Well, the food’s done,” He hummed, beginning to return the crockery to the hamper. In truth, they hadn’t managed to entirely finish all the sandwiches but she’d long since expressed her fullness, “We should probably head back, right?”

It wasn’t what she’d expected him to say, but she fundamentally understood it. He was trying to be mature, trying to match the seriousness she so often displayed, but Blaze had been spurred on by their surroundings. If they truly were outside of time, able to return to it at any moment, then what was the rush? Why would she ever waste a day as perfect as this. Just this once, perhaps only this once ever, Blaze the cat, the guardian of the Sol emeralds and princess of the Sol kingdom, decided to be greedy.

“I don’t think two hundred years have passed yet,” The pyrokinetic hummed, sitting up stretching.

“Eh?” He was clearly caught off guard.

“I thought I got to decide when we went back?” She teased, now fully rising to her feet. Blaze turned to him, “If this is my kingdom then I would like to see it.”

The hedgehog stumbled to his feet, beaming, “R-Really? I didn’t look around too much, just in case you wanted to. I just took a bit of a glance around from above, made sure everything was as it should be.”

She brushed past him, taking the hedgehog’s hand and feeling her tail wrap around his waist, “Shall we stroll then? Take in this island, unsullied by others’ footsteps?”

He squeezed her hand, bundling their picnic spread into a neat pile and setting her royal robe atop it, “There’s nothing I’d rather do.”

That stroll quickly evolved into a frankly stupid dash through the woods. Hand in hand soon turned to arm in arm as they leapt through the thick bracken of the underbrush. Though the hedgehog apparently had some knowledge of the layout, the feline soon ended up leading and racing to reach spots she knew would be transformed with time. A great peach tree forest presently stood, proud and strong, where the royal gardens would eventually take root. The feline had known that these trees were native to the island, but not that they were nearly so plentiful. In her time, only a few remained on Southern Island, one at the heart of the aforementioned garden and another near the town centre. Both were said to be centuries old but now Blaze knew that was certainly true.

Beyond those trees were a swamp, now the site of southern island’s main shopping district. The countless croaking of frogs proved to her that this part of her kingdom had always been loud, but seeing it in such a natural state almost made Blaze wish it was still in such a state. Still, that feeling was quickly washed away as Silver went to pick up a small amphibian only to tumble over himself. Though he managed to psychically keep himself from falling, the response from all the frogs was to leap from the brackish liquid and scatter in all directions. The cacophony of croaks was only rivalled by the sound of their slippery forms crashing back into the water and against the ferns of the undergrowth. The sight of him, bashfully hanging there as if he’d been ensnared in some unseen trap, was more than enough to make her laugh. In an instant, the hunter had taken the place of his supposed prey. What he’d intended to do with a frog if he’d caught it, let alone why he’d tried to catch one with his hands, Blaze had no idea, but it’d only added to the enjoyable mundanity of the day.

No reason, beyond the virtue of freedom she felt welling in her chest, led Blaze to break from staring at him and, still grinning from ear to ear, take off running. The hedgehog gave pursuit, for once not so oblivious as to think this was more than a mere game. Blaze jumped over roots and weaved through trees, running just out of arm’s reach ahead of the psychic. Her heart pounded as though this was some harsh battle, some life-or-death scenario, but she knew it’d only been stoked by the childish part of infatuation. She couldn’t do this in her time, not without feeling the eyes of her people scrutinising her every movement. Even when she was in the other dimension, the presence of so many people made her feel as though her every movement was being analysed. This was freedom, a form of release from her inhibitions that she’d never experience otherwise. It was as though they were in that destroyed future again, still children who were oblivious to how the world was supposed to be, but free from the pressures that world had forced upon them.

She ran and ran and ran until the trees were no more, until the grass vanished from under her and stone took its place. Blaze found herself at the edge of a bluff, overlooking the beach and the sea just beyond it. The feline knew this rockface well, she and he had enjoyed many picnics atop it. Though it was open and exposed now, it would with time become one of the most secluded and private places on the entire island. Panting, she drew the back of her hand across her brow and threw a glance back to him. Cyan light was glowing from the trees, he was in pursuit but had perhaps lost her.

“Silver! This way!” She called out before quickly turning her attention back to the view.

To Blaze, the value of the sea had been lost to her life spent on an island nation. She’d come to take the waters for granted, it was all she’d known for much too long, her relationship with the ocean had been a rather dull one. But now, seeing a beach devoid of people and waters more pristine than ever before, the beauty of the view took her by force. An untouched driftwood barrier formed a long yet broken line along the shore, protecting and simultaneously buffering a wide collection of rocks and shells of all different sizes and shapes.

She heard him land at her side; the key reason that she could stand heights like this. Across both lives, he’d helped her overcome that fear of falling. That alone was a miracle, she couldn’t believe she’d overlooked his potential for quite so long. What had once been a power she was equal parts captivated by and envious of had quickly become a rather romantic tool, a key part of unspoken his arsenal. Though this was the first occasion he’d taken them out of time for such a casual reason, he’d so often and so casually snuck her gifts with his power and carried her for miles above the ground. With the wave of his hand he could sweep her off her feet, not that he would without checking in first.

“It’s beautiful. This spot reminds me of when I first arrived in this world, everything looked so incredible. Undamaged, untouched,” The hedgehog thought aloud, “Do you want to head down there?”

Her tail had already snuck its way around his side again, but she knew that wasn’t enough of a hint for him. She had control, the almighty time traveling psychic was practically wrapped around her finger. It was probably due to their lonely situation but, now that they were away from the forest, it was as though the pair were more isolated than ever. She couldn’t help but feel just a little more confident than usual.

Yawning, mimicking the kind of movements she’d only ever seen in movies and read of in books, the feline stretched her arm around his far shoulder, “I suppose I might.”

Beet red colouration rushed to colour his cheeks as she stepped closer and allowed her right hand to sink into his chest fur, “I-I’ll take you wherever you want to go…”

She raised her leg and he quickly caught on, using his psychic pull to bring her into a bridal carry. This position had taken on different meanings across their lives. While once the feeling of his arm beneath her knee was a sign that they were retreating, it now signified a journey toward something. Be it the peak of a mountain or deep into a valley or simply further in their relationship, this position was a sign of movement. Gently, casually, she let herself lean into his shoulder.

Plainly trying to ignore his blush, a sheen of cyan overtook the hedgehog’s body as gravity abandoned them. With a single step they were floating above the abyss, but he didn’t stop there. As if walking on any normal road, the hedgehog paced further and further forward. With each step they would descend as far down as they did forward. Despite their relatively slow pace, Blaze lost track of time as she stared up at him.

There was something about moments like this, when that psychic glow coated him and his quills hardened in response. It contrasted so heavily with the childhood view she’d had of him, of an adorable ball of white fluff who was far too serious for his own good. Places like this brought out the best in him, let him be more casual and match his inherently soft aesthetic. He could be harsh and strong when he had to be, but she knew this was his closer to his natural state.

As his feet met the ground his eyes crashed into hers. She opted not to step out of his grasp, “S-So, um, we’re here.”

“I’d noticed,” She hummed, scanning their surroundings. He’d landed them on the inner edge of the driftwood barrier, where shells had gathered for years on this untouched land, “Shall we sit?”

“If you want,” The hedgehog struggled to respond, lowering the pair of them to the ground. Naturally, she maintained her position in his lap and atop him.

So very casually, or at least as casually as she could manage, the pyrokinetic cast a glance to her surroundings. The crashing of waves was somehow clearer than it typically was in her time, perhaps due in part to the lack of individuals intruding upon the ocean’s path. The sand was especially smooth, perhaps a result of the ocean’s efforts going entirely unhindered. She blindly stretched behind her, feeling her way through what few shells were in reach. They were cockles, as was supposed to be the case on the island. She had a meeting regarding their harvesting later today or, rather, in almost two thousand years.

She caught sight of his staring out of the corner of her eye. He was looking out to sea, but the remnants of his blush still lingered on his cheeks. Her only regret in all this was that she hadn’t seen his reaction as he first laid eyes upon this untouched world. The hedgehog had grown such an affinity for nature, a want to both experience and protect. It’d become an additional aspect of his role defending that other world, making sure that nature continued to thrive. From gardening to birdwatching to hiking, he’d fully embraced what he so often had to go weeks without.

He would leave again soon to perform that duty, she had to take advantage of what they had both here and now.

“You know, this has all been quite the flagrant misuse of your powers,” She tutted, shifting her weight to push him backwards as she broke the silence, “Very irresponsible.”

It was hardly the most scathing of her taunts but, perhaps due to the physical act that had coincided with it, her words it clearly snatched the hedgehog’s attention. His eyes flickered up to her, wide with surprise. The term your highness, or any of her royal titles for that matter, didn’t much appeal to the feline, but turning her learned regal traits on the hedgehog was an endless source of fun. She watched as surprise was gradually overcome by what little defiance he could muster; she already knew what he was going to say.

“W-Well,” He stuttered, trapped beneath her, “I thought it was for the best? It’s not like I only use my powers to save the world, I used them to pass you grapes before we left.”

“Ah yes, how long ago was that? More than ten minutes must have past by now,” The feline felt a smirk grow on her face as the hedgehog squirmed, “You’ve made me late.”

“We’ll be back on time, I promise,” He managed to reply, struggling to meet her gaze, “I-I’ll drop you right into the meeting room if you want, we can even arrive early. Your past self will be in the library for ten minutes before it starts, you can spend all that time getting ready for the next meeting.”

“How naïve, making such decisions for a princess,” She sat up straight, shuffling off of him a little.

The hedgehog managed to rise just a little, though his blush hadn’t cleared in the slightest, “Y-You’re happy to be here though, right? You’re happy to have this break?”

“Am I?” Blaze turned away from him and smirked toward the sea, “Whyever would you think that?”

“Y-You’ve been smiling,” He stammered, she could imagine the worry on his face without even glancing his way.

“Really? I hadn’t noticed,” She lied, still looking out to sea. Far away, she could see where the waves dipped beneath the horizon. They really were alone out here. Playing with him like this in such a public space was truly liberating, “Though I supposed I have enjoyed this, somewhat.”

“I’m glad,” Like a switch had been flipped, he was beaming again, “You looked so tired back in the library. I know I can’t do much to help with your work but, if you ever need something like this again, you only need to say.”

“We can’t do this every time, Silver. There will be occasions when I’ll want to, but I know we shouldn’t,” His smile wavered, she cupped his cheek. He was so genuine, so sweet, so naïve, “Just having you by my side is more than enough,” She allowed that hand to slip to his quills and ruffle them, “Although, that’s not to say I won’t ever take you up on that offer…”

For a long while, surrounded by this serene scene, they simply sat and enjoyed each other’s company. Blaze found herself not sleeping but simply snuggling into the time traveller, burying her head into the crook of his neck before lowering to reclaim the pillow that was his chest. Eventually though, the feline knew that she was as comfortable as was possible, that all her relaxation had reached its climax. Pushing herself from his frame to loom above him once again.

“We should probably head back,” She snorted, as he fumbled to his feet, “Or, I suppose, head forward in this case.”

“If you’re sure you’re ready,” He double checked, only casting his hands skyward as she nodded.

Psychokinesis whirred and hummed, a great blue pulse left the markings on his hand only to soar above and beyond the cliff-face. While that energy was racing towards their belongings, the hedgehog’s face took on a frankly goofy expression. Despite how casual this situation was, his commonly serious demeanour had leached through to make him look rather foolish. His very colourful and uniquely patterned shirt certainly wasn’t helping matters.

In no less than a minute, Blaze sighted a glowing bundle soaring over the bluff’s lip. Like some kind of soft meteor, the wrapped-up picnic basket crashed towards them, only just stopping before it could hit the hedgehog in the chest. As the pile swept past, she plucked her robe from the top and shouldered it.

“You’re sure that you’ll be able to get us back to the right time, aren’t you?” The princess asked, dusting the sand from her tights.

“I promise,” He smiled, floating the bundle behind them before stretching his hands forward. From the quills at the back of his head, a well-cut green stone flew to hover in front of them. A chaos emerald, his preferred source of energy.

As though he was washing a window with sponges strapped to both of his palms, the hedgehog began to wave his hands in repeated circles. More energy began to pool in front of him like a warbling plate, it quickly grew from the size of a droplet to become far larger than either of them. The outer edge of the disk gradually ceased in their shifting and the hedgehog’s hands fell to his sides. The effort did seem to take it out of him a little but, with them now both bathing in the light of transportation, he wouldn’t have to work again.

“After you,” He gestured ahead, plucking the emerald from the air.

Blaze, entirely trusting her partner, stepped forward. Shifting across time and space was, by now, practically second nature to her. Once upon a time she’d struggled with the instantaneous shift from one place to another, her first arrival in the other dimension had left her dizzy and exhausted. Now she knew some best practices; to close her eyes, hold her breath and keep her balance.

She stepped off of sand and straight onto hardwood.

The strong scent of coffee struck Blaze first, the only true amenity in the room was a small coffeepot set on a small side table. That much was enough to let Blaze know that they’d arrived. No wind rustled through her fur and the room was lit by a series of electric lights that had been plugged into the celling when she was five. They were at the heart of the palace, there were no windows for the sun to breach. Just a boring wooden table with reflective varnish. He walked in behind her, sealing the portal with no more than a wave as he finished arriving.

Compared to the world they’d just known; the silence of the meeting room was deafening. She already missed the breaking of waves and the ticking of the room’s clock wasn’t a worthy replacement. They’d manifested at the head of the table, her position, and were faced with six empty seats. A glance to the wall proved that Silver had stuck to his word, it was exactly ten minutes till one o’clock. On the long stretching desk, directly in front of her seat, was a bulky binder filled with notes and opened to the hour’s itinerary. Ah yes, she’d gone from running through forests, trudging through swamps and having a heart to heart on the beach to discussing where to bury the dead in no more than a moment.

How long had they spent away? She’d assumed that it couldn’t have been more than a couple of hours but, in truth, time had been rather lost on her. Despite his intent being to create a time for resting, they’d ran and acted in such a wild manned. Instead, he’d energised her in an entirely different way. He’d brought her excitement; he’d given her the strength to carry on and get through today. How could she even begin to repay that?

An idea wriggled its way into Blaze’s head.

Nonchalantly, the feline redonned her robe and neatly fastened it before retaking her seat, pretending to scan her notes, “Well, everything seems to be in order…”

“I told you that I’d get us back on time,” She could hear the joy in his voice.

“You certainly did,” The princess squinted at the page, placing her finger beneath a chosen random word, “But it does look like the timeline has changed, ever so slightly.”

“W-What? It has?” He rushed to her side, leaning over her shoulder to look at the papers, “Blaze, what are you talking about? This is still all about refurbishing gravesto-

The moment he turned from the page to look at her, Blaze’s hand sunk into the quills on the back of his head and pulled him in just a little closer. He surely knew what she was about to do, she’d done it often enough, but that didn’t seem to stop him from becoming flustered. After a moment of staring, taking in his blushing face, Blaze closed her eyes and closed the distance.

Feeling him shudder at the first contact, wanting to return her efforts but being restricted by her hold, brought the princess endless jubilation. Blaze’s heartbeat shot up, as she pulled him in and offered him the slightest of opportunities. He hurriedly took it, pushing to further close the distance as is such a thing was possible. The taste of raspberry lemonade on his lips was just an added bonus. Feeling him grow tense beneath her touch, knowing that, despite his capacity to take her back in time, she had this power over him, was incredible. A might not born of her royal position or pyrokinetic might, but love.

The kiss didn’t last for long, of course. Not only did she have work to return to, but Blaze knew it was best to leave him wanting more. As she pulled back, her eyes reopened and his bashful face filled her vision. Eyes lit like overexcited lighting bolts, cheeks like poppy petals and a thorough look of overexcitement had claimed his face.

“S-So, I take it the timeline hasn’t actually changed then?” The psychic eventually asked.

“Not that I’ve noticed,” She smirked, “You’re the same naïve hedgehog you were when we left.”

“That’s good,” He struggled to reply, “I-I think.”

For a moment longer she simply stared into his eyes and watched him squirm. The princess didn’t especially wear makeup but the idea of leaving a lipstick stain on him had crossed her mind a handful of times. He probably wouldn’t even notice until it was too late. But, alas, similarly too late, they’d been lingering together for much too long. The pair of them had just spent hours together, she’d decided it was time to go, and yet she didn’t want to release him. What foolishness…

“I’ll see you in an hour and a half, perhaps a little longer,” She mused, still holding the back of his head, “If you can make such good use of two minutes, what can you do with so much more?”

“W-Well, um,” He squeaked, “I guess I’ll try to think of something?”

Her fingers uncurled from his quills but the hedgehog, plainly stunned, didn’t move, “I’m sure you will, but, for now, we must part.”

“O-Oh, right, yes, um,” He shot up straight, quickly looking away, “Good luck with, um, t-the graveyard people.”

“You’ll need to get used to this eventually,” She rolled her eyes. Despite the rarity of their kisses, given only when she was certain no one else could see, she’d thought that he’d have grown a little bolder by now. Despite the smallness of her action in comparison to his, the hedgehog was adorably lovestruck.

“I don’t know that I can do that in an hour and a half, even with time travel,” He mumbled, tugging at his chest fur, “And an extra fifteen minutes probably won’t change that.”

He could be so naïve, so blunt and oblivious. Without a second thought, Blaze rose from her seat and took him by the collar. Uttering nothing more than the word “Well, if you can’t manage that,” For the second time in so many minutes, her lips found his. The ticking of the wall clock filled her ears as they parted again, “Just brace yourself for when I finish up.”

[theoryofthefalls]

TOTF Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven: The Author

Author: @moonbeamjean Wordcount: 9.8K Summary: Jessica finds herself face to face with a page in The Journal that paints Bill in an unflattering light. Much like the unflattering light and dust that’s clogging up the newly discovered spare room in the Mystery Shack.

A/N: This chapter is a nice exploration of some of the friendships that Jess has in Gravity Falls and the kind of roads they will take. Bill of course is a downhill spiral of deception and manipulation, but there’s also Dipper, McGucket, Kiara, Grunkle Stan, and yes, even early clues to ‘The Author’ that she’s only going to realise months down the line. Thank you so much for waiting on the update, and I hope you enjoy!

A whole month was gone now. Weeks worth of Summer were vanishing faster and faster, and Jessica Jean felt like she was becoming bigger than her bones. There was still fun in the ordinary life and sun of Gravity Falls, for sure. Dipper and Mabel seemed to have adventures every day of the week. What was the latest one? Oh yeah. Time Travel. That was possible now. Just casually thrown in there, along with a new pig, while Jess was running a Kissing Booth for Stanford Pines’ silly carnival games. But at least her ache of jealousy was dying. The power Bill gave her was being practiced more and more, and her little secret was spilling out beyond just the twins and Kiara.

Soos was the fourth person to find out about the little taste of witchcraft. Jess needed his help for a particular dance video and, well, she kind of had to explain how she could just summon a J-Pop cosplay out of thin air. Wendy was next - sneaking out onto the rooftop at sunset to find the blonde floating above the roof-tiles talking to ‘herself’. And then Mabel made those two new friends, Candy and Grenda, and suddenly every second day was being spent playing fairy dress-ups, re-enacting romance movies, and summoning glitter out of nowhere. But that was it. No more people had to know about this. It was supposed to be a secret, and she shouldn’t have been putting it on as a performance at their command (apparently, by Bill’s morals at least.) Still, she could float in front of more people now, which was relaxing. It was so easy to just slip out of focus and relax mid-air, drinking some Pit Cola in the warm glow of Summer, not having to worry about somebody finding her.

Now that the ‘Mystery Twins’ had their own channel and she was actually spending time with them, the videos kept coming and coming and coming. She could upload now on a nearly bi-weekly schedule. And the views were getting good! The small amount of money being made from the ads and watches was turning from a couple of cents into a couple of dollars. If Jessica didn’t have the power to infinitely spawn bills out of her hand, she probably would have celebrated this a little more. In fact, one of her most popular videos was just her slapping her hands together like at a strip club and spawning an infinite amount of green notes. She would have kept them, too, if Stanford hadn’t been heard around the corner at the sound of free money and she had to make it all disappear in a blink.

The only one who seemed to be both skeptical and awed was Dipper. That was no surprise. Originally, the friendship between them was a quiet, awkward, and scarce thing. He would ask the blonde for the video-camera, once even asking about her film degree and what her classes were like. That was a nice afternoon on the back porch. But now that Jess was out of the super-powered closet, there seemed to be a new kind of awkward interaction that the boy took joy in.

“This is Dipper Pines’ Guide to the Unexplained!” he announced into the silver cam-corder. It was the hottest day of Summer, and the babysitters were talking outside on the front porch. The boy scrambled around the nest of prepared notes and evidence - Journal 3, Mabel’s scrapbook of Summer adventures and romances, small piles of glitter and confetti from previous videos. Finally he found a page in Mabel’s book, a polaroid collection of Jess and Kiara Phoenix at the fair, sharing popcorn and the blonde making vulgar smooch-faces to the girl’s disposable camera. “Anomaly Number 38: Jessica Jean.

“She came along with our old babysitter, KP, to look out for us this Summer, and sometime between arriving here and four weeks ago, managed to obtain amazing, nearly limitless magical abilities! Like some kind of over-powered fairy godmother, she’s used this (as you’ve probably seen) for makeovers, saving us from crazy fake psychics, and cleaning around the house!” Dipper remembered the footage he’d sneakily caught of Jess around the Shack, her feet off the ground and reaching up to the tall cabinets of the kitchen. He’d have to splice it in somehow. Or hell, he’d have to edit this whole video together without the babysitter noticing.

Maybe he could borrow Soos’ computer? That would be a challenge for later. Dipper picked up the camera, and with a determined expression he approached the bedroom window. His voice lowered to a whisper. “I have various theories, none of which add up to the stories that she’s given us. It seems to change every time I ask!” He lifted the cam-corder to the windowpane and focused on the two girls standing below by the yellow car. “First it was mystic runes, then she said it was a fairy, and then she said she was a teen witch all along! And then one time—! One time Jess was just like, ‘Oh powers? What powers? I don’t have any!’, which was so frustrating, and—“

Dipper froze. KP was there, looking up at the window into the attic bedroom he and Mabel shared. In fact, it looked for a minute that she was staring right at him. Dressed in her oversized board shorts and tight but covering rashie, she had her had covered the sun from her eyes and staring at something just above the boy’s head. But the real creepy part was the fact that Jessica Jean, subject of the video, was no longer standing there.

“BOO!!!”

He screamed, nearly dropping the camera. Jess didn’t seem to mind, watching him scramble back and bumping his elbow into the frame of his bed. “Hahahaha!!! Oh, man…!!” Gently, gently, she floated down from the rooftop and right-side up once more, nudging the ajar window open and squeezing inside. Hips like hers had a hard time fitting through small spaces, but it was manageable. The blonde floating in the middle of his room, arms hung low and knees curled up. Limp and relaxed, dressed in shorts and a tied-up t-shirt. Peaking over her sunglasses, the camera flew into her hand gently and her thumb hit the record button ‘off’. “Dipper, seriously, if you’re going to film me at least ask!”

This was about the third time she’d caught him now. Always a scolding. Dipper groaned, hopping up on the mattress and watching the magic carefully. “I know, I know, I’m sorry,” he repeated. The usual apology, recited and well-practiced. “I'll ask to use your camera rather than sneak it out of your bag while you and KP are talking about…” Another groan. “Boys.”

Jess snickered. ‘Boy’ talk was not the right age bracket for talking about her friend’s obvious crush on their boss. It was more like ‘Grand-daddy’ talk. Ew. She tried to stay mad, but the kid had rare gem of sarcasm that made her smile. “No, ask before you film a girl without her knowledge! There’s stuff I don’t want the Internet to see!” She frowned on a more serious note then. “Wait… don’t tell me you film Wendy, do you?”

He blushed. Oh God, how many people knew about this awful crush. “No!! No, I would never!!”

A sigh of relief. “Good, then I don’t have to give you a stern talking-to…” Jessica brightened. “Anyway, while I have you here…” She shrugged off the purple back-pack from her shoulders, and proceeded to look through the levitating sack. KP had packed so much bloody sunscreen that it was like they were watching a group of penguins touring Australia. But there, at the bottom of the bag, was a nice cardboard box with an even nicer present inside. Jess shrugged it out, and chucked the box into his hands. “Got you something!”

“W-Woah!” Dipper caught it in an awkward bundle, holding it close. It had a lot of instructions and careful warnings on the side, but he recognised the image. It was a video-camera. Frighteningly similar to her own, that he had used for this whole third of the Summer together. He felt his jaw drop. “I… Wow, this is so cool!” He immediately looked at her. “Did you make this?”

Jess snorted with laughter. Her powers were good but not that good. “Dipper, if I could, I would have done this weeks ago.” She certainly wouldn’t have been able to make all the little foam nuggets that lived inside the box, anyway. Sometimes buying things came with more certainty than just making it out of thin air. Hoisting her legs into the air, the backpack dropped to the ground as she flew up in a casual sitting position. “I bought it yesterday. Figured you might finally stop borrowing my camera if you and Mabel had your own!”

Sharing it between two was going to be way easier than sharing it with three. Dipper grinned. All his footage of the Hide-Behind (or lack of) and the bizarre tooth (more like horrifying, cryptic, island-head-monster, but okay) was going to have some new company. He reeled with ideas of what to film. But he had to ask. After all, he was aware of their quiet but distant friendship, too. “Why are you doing this?”

A shrug. Like most of the things she answered him with. “Well, I’ve been using you guys for my channel as much as you use me for yours.” They called it ‘cameos’, but the truth was the truth. Views spiked with the Mystery Twins, and she was making cents from it. “I’d feel bad if I didn’t get something as a ‘thank you’, so I splurged into my Kissing Booth money and… Well, thank you.”

Dipper smiled. Small, embarrassed, just-as-bad-with-emotions smile, in the dimple of his cheek. He gripped the box tight. “No problem! Uhh… thanks for letting us borrow it for so long, I guess.”

“Anytime, Pine Tree!”

He headed for the others downstairs, the new video-camera in his hands and that familiar trucker-cap on his head. She trusted his anxiety and paranoia not to bring it with them to the public pool today and save it for mystery-solving. The items he had ready for his little ‘study’ of Jess were all around the floor in a mess that looked vaguely like a map of her life. The scrapbook, covered with glitter and macaroni, seemed to be getting thicker and thicker by the day. With the smallest shred of effort, the book raised into her hands and she turned through the open pages. So many pictures of Mabel and Waddles from the fair, scraps of crystals from their shrinking-torch, but there were drawings, too. Crayon and coloured pencil pieces of various caticatures, portraits of Jess and KP holding hands next to a blurry polaroid of them smooching at the fairgrounds.

Jessica grinned, closed the book, and waved it over to Mabel’s bedside. And she would have left it at that, but there was something else in the room that caught her eye. The Journal - equally messy, but in the way that an exploding lab or abused library was, rather than the 5AM dance-party aesthetic of the twin sister’s work. Dipper always kept it close and safe, and frankly she hadn’t seen enough of it for her liking. He didn’t like anyone over the age of 12 getting their hands on it, just in case. She could understand that. It was his secret, as her powers were hers, and she could respect that.

It still didn’t stop her from reading it though.

Perched on Dipper’s unmade bed, legs crossed, the book rested in her lap comfortably. Her fingertips traced the six-fingered hand of the cover fondly, inspected the paper’s slight shine, before she opened it up. Most of the dust between the pages were blown out from finally being read and loved again, but there was still a thin layer baked right into the spine. The pages were so thin and yellowed that she didn’t even use her fingers to turn it, using magic instead to avoid thumb-prints and tears. It seemed like the twins were making their own notes on top of the decades-old originals. ‘Gnomes: Weakness, lawnmowers’. ‘Ghosts, seen at convenience store’! And she should have been a little mad, considering that this book was practically a historical document and should be treated with respect, but then she thought about all the notes she used to write and doodle on her science books in college. This was no different.

… Man, there was a lot here, though. The Hide-Behind, a Gremoblin, the floating eyeballs from the cave, and pages full of sketches of the landscape and forests of Gravity Falls. So many creatures, so little time. The kids were getting better at finding them in the wild, though. Even if it often led to disastrous consequences. Another page turned slowly, expecting more bug-eyed weirdos and mountain dwelling spooks, when she came across—

Bill.

Jess paused. Bill Cipher was in the Journal. And it wasn’t in a good light.

He was illustrated as a silhouette of black ink, staring from the page with his singular eye. No lashes, no replicant of the shaky drawings and symbols from the cave. It was him. That eerie posture of his low-hanging arms and relaxed, slightly kicked legs was caught perfectly. Various codes and patterns surrounded him, written down in rushes only to be crossed out again. CAESER. ATBASH. Some codes weren’t even letters or recognisable sigils, but some kind of bizarre alien text of lines and dots - part hieroglyphics, part morse-code, all of it impossible to read.

But there were splatters of red in the corners, and it wasn’t ink. And a paragraph of notes and praise, beautifully written in cursive. Bill has proven himself to be one of the friendliest and most trustworthy individuals that I’ve ever encountered in my life. On and on, thankful and adoring, and not unlike Jessica’s own thought process. But it was all crossed out, stubborn and hurt, and there was a bold, terrifying series of four-words amongst the stains.

BILL CAN’T BE TRUSTED!

She swallowed thickly. Kiara would have loved this guy. Beware Bill. The most powerful and dangerous creature I’ve ever encountered.

It was wrong. The Author was wrong. He had to be. Her fingers pressed into the ruby bindings of the book, and she read the following page. An illustration of the small triangle, in more detail and accuracy, hopping into a barely detailed human brain. It was labelled with several, scientifically accurate parts. REFLECTIVES, said one third. DOMESTIC, said another. THE LADIES, marked the last.

… Maybe the guy was just a lonely kook. Jess looked up from the Journal with a deadpan expression. So the Author was a deranged horn-dog. Fine. The book closed, a little harder than necessary, and she tucked it just underneath Dipper’s pillow for safe-keeping. No wonder the boy seemed to enjoy his writing. But so what? There was plenty here that was incorrect. He was wrong. Wrong wrong wrong.

Bill was fine. She had magic powers. And they talked all the time. They were fine, they were great, they were friends. The corn-chip would have told her of any further intentions. She was smarter than this deranged lunatic and his coded notes. Jess asked questions. Jess read details. Or, alternatively, she asked questions and he would shut her down and talk about a vague, larger plan, and she didn’t have the guts to ask him what that plan was so she just kept her mouth zipped and enjoy what she had. Enjoy the feeling of life in her veins and magic in her bones and becoming something larger, grander, better than just a failed little girl.

She gripped the sheets, and didn’t move until she was called back downstairs by KP. Jessica played along the whole week by the poolside, flirtatious and funny and blonde and sweet, laughing everything off. She continued to tease Kiara about her obvious feelings for Stanford Pines, as old as he was, and waved at Mabel and her sweet, hispanic (??) mermaid (?!?!?) boyfriend. She had nothing to worry about. Nothing.

Is he watching me? asked the book under Dipper’s pillow.

- - - - -

“So who else have you made deals with?” Jean asked some time ago, turning over in the air to see him.

Bill was sitting back, hands behind him as one would put them behind their head. He watched the sky roll lazily by. “OH, YOU KNOW. DA VINCI, THE KENNEDY’S, A COUPLE OF RUBES,” he listed casually. “I HAD FUN FILMING THE MOON-LANDING WITH NASA. THAT WAS PRETTY GREAT.”

Jess wasn’t sure if she wanted to ask about that yet. Whole new bag of worms to deal with. But she did ask this: “Have you ever given anybody your powers before?”

Bill paused. Interesting of her to ask. “NO,” he answered eventually. “HAVEN’T NEEDED TO! AND WHEN I FIGURED OUT I NEEDED TO, THERE WEREN’T PEOPLE IN TOWN WHO WERE WORTH SHARING THEM WITH!”

It had flattered her at the time. She used to spend a whole day of mischief with her favourite triangle. The minute she was out of earshot, sometimes sooner, Bill would appear in a crack of light by her side. The space around him shifting between this world and the Mindscape, as vibrant a yellow as ever. They’d exchange a knowing grin, and Jess would pick up her feet and turn her walk into a float. Both to show off her control over his magic, and because flying was the best thing in the world.

Jessica was getting good at learning his magic. Understanding where it came from. Bill didn’t delve too much into how he learned them - nobody wants to give away their backstory all at once and take away the fun. But she got it. Learn an equation, think of a grander universal concept, and either conjure it or remove it from existence entirely. All he’d given her that afternoon nap by the cave was just a spark for her body and brain to withstand it. Something to make her physically grander than the average twenty-five year-old cheerleader. She was a science-interested mind with an artist’s imagination. It was a good combo that worked in his favour, and appealing to boot. He needed that for the long-term plans. And for the short-term, she was damn fine fun.

They still spend nights together. It was harder to see her during the day, and she needed him less and less to talk through her abilities. Between fun-fairs, pig adoption, swimming pools, and sunsets on the porch chopping firewood, Bill Cipher wasn’t bothering to visit as often as he used to. They had dreams and the Mindscape to talk, to unwind, to catch up and explore the valleys and peaks of her imagination’s hillsides. And he didn’t want to sit in on those long hours of playing make-up and detective and helping the kids making videos for their stupid little channels. So he stuck right out of that, folded his arms, and waited for his friend to fall asleep and finally give him some time.

It was irritating. He was irritated, and she was aware of that, and now there were blood-splattered pages in a very old book with his name written between warning signs.

Technically speaking, spending time with the kids and making dumb videos was still practicing her powers. Bill couldn’t get too mad at Jean for spending more and more time with them. Right? Right. Even so, the girl had to make it up to him. So she picked a night and used the building blocks of her mind and imagination to create something just for them. No twins, no Kiara, nothing. Just her and Bill. She owed him that, at least.

Jessica was about half an hour into her sleep when he appeared. Deep blue night skies, slender purple and indigo trees. The usual level of whimsy, and those same white silhouettes of faceless starlight walking past them. But those eager silhouettes seemed to be vanished, or gather somewhere else. Bill Cipher was a contrast of yellow - not a soft gold but rather the ink in your printer that always seemed to vanish at inconvenient times - and appeared in a burst of white light. On the cliffside, outside the memory of ‘his’ cave, looking over towards the lake. A haze of pink and peach lights, made from only the kind of old-fashioned bulbs around movie-star frames and… carnivals.

He squinted, flying down closer to the sight. The closer he flew, the louder it became. Happy giggles, old music from the 50’s, and rickety wooden structures. Part of it resembled what Stan Pines created in his backyard in the name of self-promotion, the other parts looked like the seaside carnivals over in San Francisco or Coney Island. There was a large ferris wheel that nearly eclipsed the milky moon, with rose-coloured seats and plush cushions. There were games to play that won ugly, llama-looking plush toys with soft pink cheeks and bowties. The Kissing Booth was not occupied by Crescent, but rather a silhouette of white who had curves in the right places and a vaguely androgynous face. He ignored it. Nothing was rigged, everyone was a winner, and there was a distinct perfume in the air of fairy-floss and caramel. It was charming in a very mortal, young-love kind of way.

The girl had worked incredibly hard on it. Even down to the harlequin-styled clown, juggling on a small stage and dropping all his rainbow-coloured balls into his face. Bill cackled with nasal laughter amongst the imagined figures, and turned at the sound of ukulele. Jessica was performing as a busker, something she did to pass time and make money in college, and was dressed in a summer frock of white lace that sat like an attractive potato sack. It was pretty, as were the flowers in her hair. She was playing an old song that Cipher recalled her parents used to play on the kitchen radio, and when his eye found her she immediately stopped. Put the instrument down, float above the crowd, just make him the center of her world again.

She tucked a hair behind her ear, relaxing her legs and standing on the ground once more. “Sooo… you found the place!”

Bill chuckled. “HARD TO MISS IT,” he said/exclaimed. He always spoke so loudly. One of his hands reached for his top-hat, and he lifted it in respect. “NOT BAD, CRESCENT. NOT BAD AT ALL. CAN’T WAIT TO SEE YOU MAKE SOMETHING LIKE THIS WHEN YOU’RE AWAKE!”

Jess wandered along, the bystanders of white parting from their way. It was hard to tell how much control she had over them sometimes, but the girl didn’t mind a crowded room. It was exciting. Especially in the dusk-coloured party lights and atmosphere of this little fairytale. She wanted to make him happy, show off how much she could do, and it was certainly fun to expand things further and further. “Well, y’know, I feel bad that I spent so much time with the kids lately… Running around with them is fun and all, but I would have liked to spend some of the day with my other friend.”

He heard the good intentions in her voice. She really meant it. The triangle chuckled, flattered and floating, and they made their way to the ferris wheel. She clicked her fingers and a pair of champagne glasses appeared just within their reach, taking gentle sips in unison as the sparkling attendant set them inside the comfortable, cozy ride. Bill’s eye shut, and he drank through the lids as one would a mouth, only to open them again as that frightening slit pupil. It made Jess giggle.

“SO WHAT’S THE OCCASION?” he asked, sitting down with a little wriggle of comedic effect. Jess ignored him, leaning back into the cozy pink pillows. She could make her ferris wheel as pretty and unsafe as she’d like. But Bill wasn’t giving up. “CHAMPAGNE? WEARING SOMETHING OTHER THAN THOSE FILTHY PYJAMAS? AN ENTIRE CARNIVAL BY THE SEA? YOU’RE INDULGING ME HERE, KID!”

Jessica nibbled her lip when she spoke. Her knees crossed over, she watched the bubbles in the gold drink. “Well… I guess I wanted to say thanks, too. I mean, you’ve taught me so much. I wanted to show you I—“

“CRESCENT.”

His voice was sharp. Bill’s eye was on her, and her only. “I KNOW WHAT YOU READ.”

The wheel began to turn, and they rotated up, gently, into the deep blue sky of night. Despite the light pollution of the sideshow, the stars remained ever-bright. Logic was second-thought in the Mindscape. The world could be as beautiful or as ugly as Jessica’s dreams and emotions dictated. And right now, it was beautiful. For him. And she was making herself dainty and small and sweet. She was nervous. And she was overcompensating with big gifts, gestures of affection, exploring her powers as much as possible to push back the fact that, finally, she had found something that shook her faith in the inter-dimensional being.

The blonde watched the view of deep blue sea and endless horizon. The pink and yellow lights of the fair glowed beneath their feet. “… KP’s always said I should be careful around you,” she began. “But she says that about all my friends and relationships.” Bless that sweet, honest girl. A small smile tugged briefly. “… We both know I have shit in my life that I don’t want to deal with. And I figured… that you were the same. You never asked me about my history, so I never pried too deep into yours. But…”

Jessica swallowed. “You knew the Author. And something happened between you guys that turned a good friendship bad.” Those blue eyes kept dancing, taking nervous glances at the triangle as she considered her words. “And the cave paintings, and the cipher wheel, and… You’ve told me so much about the world, Bill, and I am amazed. But I know nothing about you…! I barely know what you gave me these powers for in the first place!!”

“YOU KNOW WHY!” he said, a laugh to his voice. He set the champagne glass on an imaginary table, and it floated perfectly in the air beside him. “YOU’RE A BRIGHT KID, WITH A LOT OF IMAGINATION, AND IT—“

“Bill, no, I…” She bit her lip. The interruption made her blink. Jean gave a sigh, gentle but clearly pent-up, like the steam from a kettle. “Give me something… real. You gave me these for a reason. And you still haven’t told me what that reason is. I’m too polite to ask what your intentions are, but if you don’t want me using them for fun with my friends, and you don’t want me performing onstage, then you have to tell me what this whole thing is about.”

She didn’t even sound angry anymore. Just a bit stressed, a bit desperate, and finally snapping a little. Jess was a straight-shooter when she was serious. It was rare, but she could be. He was wondering whenabouts she’d finally pop the question. And her nerves were turning from quiet and unspoken to loud, and straight-forward, and determined. Enough games. Enough mindless flattery. She was asking for some truth. Bill sighed in a defeated manner. He couldn’t avoid this topic. “SO YOU WANNA HEAR IT? THE TRAGIC TALE OF BILL THE TRIANGLE GUY?”

Jessica Jean nodded. She leaned back in the seat as the ferris-wheel took them higher. A vision of white among the blue and pink of her little universe. His stiff three sides relaxed a little, almost wilting or melting, and Cipher’s eyelid grew heavy. “I’M FROM ANOTHER DIMENSION. NOT THE MINDSCAPE, NOT YOURS, ANOTHER PLACE. IT WAS A BORING LITTLE BLACK AND WHITE SPACE WITH SIMPLE-MINDED PEOPLE. OTHER SHAPES. OTHER TRIANGLES. BUT I KNEW I WAS ALWAYS ONE OF A KIND! SMARTER THAN THE AVERAGE SQUARE! GOOD OL’ BILL CIPHER! A CUT ABOVE THE REST!

“I KNEW I WAS TOO GOOD FOR THE WORLD. I HAD TO FIND A WAY OUT. I STARTED LOOKING UP THINGS I WASN’T SUPPOSED TO, AND IT MADE ME A SMARTER EQUILATERAL. SOON, I WAS ABLE TO LEAVE MY WORLD ENTIRELY. I CAME TO YOUR THIRD DIMENSION AND TRIED TO SHOW THE PEOPLE WHAT I WAS CAPABLE OF, BUT THEY DIDN’T LIKE ME AT ALL! ALL THEY WANTED TO DO WAS BANISH ME.“

“I saw,” she said. Jess curled up her knees, moving closer to his side. “The murals on cave… The red lightning?”

“THAT’S THE ONE,” said Bill. He couldn’t look at her. How could he? Why should he? He was so lowly and she was so sweet. He sighed. The half-humoured tone to his story began to fade. Even when his voice was so loud, so nasal, Cipher just sounded so sad. He practically lost his glow. “I’VE BEEN TRAPPED FOR HUNDREDS OF YEARS. I WATCHED SO MUCH OF THE WORLD COME AND GO, AND I WANTED TO BE PART OF IT SO BADLY! I MANAGED TO HELP A FEW PEOPLE CHANGE HISTORY. MAKE AN IMPACT. GIVE MY LIFE A LITTLE MEANING. BUT IT’S NEVER BEEN ENOUGH. I’VE… I’VE NEVER BEEN ENOUGH.”

Jessica swallowed. She knew that feeling. Not to his cosmic extent. But she knew it. The triangle continued to explain himself and his slit pupil met her blue eyes. “THE AUTHOR OF THE JOURNALS FOUND ME, AND DEMANDED I TELL HIM ALL THE SECRETS OF THE UNIVERSE. I SHARED WHAT I COULD, BUT IT DROVE HIM MAD WITH POWER. THE POOR GUY LOST HIS SANITY COMPLETELY.” He looked at her with what was the equivalent of a hopeful smile. An air of warmth resonated between them in the starry sky. “BUT YOU? … YOU’RE THE FIRST PERSON I’VE EVER GIVEN MY POWERS TO. YOU’RE A GOOD EGG. A SMART KID. SMART ENOUGH TO LEARN HOW IT WORKS, BUT FUN ENOUGH TO TAKE IT TO A WHOLE NEW LEVEL! YOU ARE EXACTLY WHAT I NEED.”

She was quiet the whole while, taking in his story and hanging onto every word. But Jess had to ask, directly, “And what do you need? What do you need me to be?”

Cipher looked at her with his big, adoring eye. It was shiny against the starlight. He was yellow against the purple and blue of her mind.  It crinkled in the corners, in his version of a mouthless smile. “I NEED YOU TO BE MY ACE IN THE HOLE IF SOMETHING GOES WRONG. I’VE GOT A PLAN TO COME OUT THERE, IN YOUR WORLD. IT’S READY FOR ME. BUT IF SOMETHING GOES HAYWIRE, YOU’RE MY BACK-UP. I NEED YOU TO KEEP PRACTICING WHAT I TEACH YA, AND I NEED YOU AT BECK AND CALL WHEN THOSE BIG PLANS PAY OFF.” He sounded a little nervous. A glance up and down at her. “CAN YOU DO THAT FOR ME, CRESCENT?”

By contract, she couldn’t say no. But he pretended that she could. And Jess believed it. She believed it all, as he expected her to do. She smiled, warm and tender, and edged a little closer to him. And before Bill knew it, she did something pretty unexpected. She hugged him. Arms wrapped around his pointy frame. Altogether, he was about as tall as her torso - a perfect size to get wrapped up in as she lay back in their booth.

“I can do that,” she answered quietly. “… you weird asshole.”

She heard a chuckle. It was limp, compared to his louder natural laugh. Heck, Cipher was kind of surprised that she was holding him in the first place. Aside from sex with near strangers and grabbing KP whenever possible, Jessica Jean didn’t have a track record of physical attention. It made her squeamish. If she hugged him, it meant she really liked him.

Good.

“WHAT WAS THAT CUTE LITTLE NUMBER YOU WERE SINGING EARLIER?” he asked, finishing the champagne. He still flashed gold light with each syllable he spoke.

Jess shrugged. “It’s something my Mom sang to me before the divorce.”

And she’d hold her like this, too. The same way she held Bill now. He felt her clutch him a little tighter, a little closer, just subconsciously. He reclined in her arms as best as he could. “I’VE HEARD IT SOMEWHERE BEFORE. WANNA SING IT AGAIN FOR ME?”

Crescent smiled. “Sure!”

They stared into the blue, quiet and still, and talked about the endlessness yet contained beauty of the universe. Eager questions about the past and future, venting about her previous relationships and friends, and drinking champagne. The wheel stopped with them right at the top, looking over the world they shared together. Her eyelids grew heavy even within the dream, relaxed into a complete state of bliss. Her fingertips traced the flat, two-dimensional edge of his body, and he didn’t protest to it.

J.F. Kennedy didn’t cuddle. Neither did Lovecraft. Bill didn’t really have many female humans as contracts or friends. Still getting used to some aspects of it. And hugging seemed to be one of them. It was sweet. Not his preferred thing, but it was new. And new things were always intriguing. Jessica Jean, lying back amongst pillows and pointing out constellations in her mind’s sky, held him in her arms. It was difficult to, given he was a being of pure energy and weightlessness, but she tried. And the effort was enough.

The song ended slowly, gently. “You know what?” she said, looking out onto the wide blue ocean. It went for miles. The edge of her mind. They looked at the limitless blue and she squeezed him tighter. It was hard to, but the effort was enough. “I can’t wait for you to come out of this place… I’ll actually be able to hug you for real!”

Bill groaned dramatically. “YEAH, YEAH, I CAN HARDLY WAIT.” And the sarcasm made her laugh enough to spill some champagne.

- - - - -

KP and Jessica were usually the ones in charge of grocery runs. Stanford’s parenting skills were getting better, but it seemed like his cooking always relied on beans and war rations. Not that they were culinary experts or anything, but college life and learning to live on your own meant you picked up a couple things like easy-bake pasta recipes, steaks, eggs, anything that required minimal ingredients and as many healthy things as they could fit. Plus, being a young(er) adult meant they could respect the kids’ needs for brightly coloured cereal, sugar, and fruit juice spelt with numbers for letters.

“Honestly, this one is just an exclamation mark!” said KP, pulling it off the shelf. The bottle was about as big as Manly Dan’s arm, and coloured like a neon pink sign at a video arcade. She grinned. “Is Mabel gonna make her juice again?”

Jess nodded. “Yup. Prepare your liver.”

The car ride back from the store was music, good times, big smiles, and a backseat full of groceries. Loud rock music from the 50’s mixed with trap from last week. It was an eclectic mess of music tastes, which is what the blonde seemed to enjoy most.  Every speed-bump made the beetle shake, but the stops and sights on the way to Gopher Road were becoming more and more familiar. Kiara smiled out the window, even at the sight of the massive white and blue tent of the Gleeful family. This strange little town felt more like home every day. Sunshine on her skin when she leaned on the window. Her shirt’s long black sleeves felt toasty warm in the light.

She smiled at the driver. “Could you live here?”

It had certainly come out of nowhere. As did the smile from Tad Strange, crossing past them at the intersection and holding hands with his boyfriend. Jess waved back, awkward but flattered smirk on her face, and turned to her not-girlfriend. “Why’d you ask?”

“I dunno…!” replied KP. In fact, it had surprised herself a little. But just being lost in thought in the golden taste of sunlight had sent her off to somewhere dream-like and strange. She imagined the clouds parting and the shining light against her right cheek like a little kiss. “Lately I’ve just been thinking, y’know… settling down, finding somewhere nice and quiet to work on my comics…” She turned to Jessica with a nervous but hopeful expression. “Once the Summer’s up and the kids are on the bus to California, I might even look into real estate here!”

“Aww…!” Jess was quiet but proud. “That’s great!” Planning the future was never her forte. She survived as much as she could in the present. Anything like a career or a marriage was far, far away from her priorities. “What are you thinking, an apartment…? Or a cute little cottage house somewhere like Wendy’s place or the Shack…?

KP smiled. “Yeah, the Shack is perfect!”

“Yeah… Rustic, charming, full of weird taxidermy…!” “Ha-ha, yeah! Perfect woodland get-away—“

“Hotter older gentleman waiting for you every night…” purred Jess.

Kiara Lee Phoenix frowned at the blonde. This was not a road she wished to bring up. Again. “Not a day goes by where y’don’t remind me of this stupid crush, do you?”

“IT’S ADORABLE!” squealed Jess behind the wheel. Also, talking about the feelings between Stanford Pines and her best friend was a nice distraction from thinking about the inevitable death of her childhood and having to become an independent person. Taking a left turn and finding the familiar path for Gopher Road, she tried to talk while paying full attention. It was difficult. “Honestly, sweetheart, it had been years since I last saw you get a crush this bad!!”

The brunette made a loud, ugly groan of embarrassing noise and hardship. Easy for her friend to say, but it was hard to carry the feeling. “Please stop!! It’s… it’s weird. He’s so much older but he’s so handsome and he really cares about the kids!!” Her experience with boys was awful. With men? Even worse. KP didn’t know how to handle the emotional need in her body. She itched for the comforting headphones around her neck. She sighed, defeated, and hugged herself instead. “Look, what do you reckon?”

“I’ve told you what I reckon!” laughed Jess. “It’s adorable. You’re adorable.”

“Be serious,” said KP, in a rather miserable tone. “Just tell me, is this weird or not? I’m trying to shut off my feelings for the guy but… I can’t. And I know he’s kinda rough, and not the most aware, but he really does the best he can, and…” She was so tired from feeling it. Why did they have to talk about it? Why did she have to feel it?! Kiara looked to Jess for guidance. “Just give it to me straight.”

“… KP, you know I’m bi, I can’t give things straight—“

“Shut your beautiful mouth and be serious, darn it!”

It started off with giggles, but Jess would get to the point in a minute. She made the proper turn and headed up the long, dirt lane of Gopher Road. With a little bit of magic she turned down the radio as a sign of ‘serious conversation ahead’. “Okay, okay…” She racked her brain for good points. Good points about the law-avoiding ex-boxer who somehow managed to make his own business in dealing lies to suckers. “… He’s funny. And yeah, he’s getting better around the kids… Personally, I like my guys a little fitter, and a little nerdier, but y’know, that’s just me!

“The age… isn’t that much of an issue these days. Big gaps are gross when you’re like, in high school and some creepy 30-year-old man asks you about your cup size when you’re sixteen. That’s fucked up. But as you start getting older and a little wiser, people start to blur across generations…! Love is just a concept of hormones and biological urges, anyway, so who cares about how old, or fat, or queer, or how different each of the people involved are as long as they’re consenting and honest to each other!” Jessica’s serious talks always seemed to delve into social or scientific issues. She tried to make it more personal and not just a vent. “You always talk about finding a guy who wants a family, who’s gonna treat you like a real classy lady, and boys our age usually don’t give a shit about that…”

KP nodded with a bitter sigh. Too true. It was why Jess had so much care-free luck in sex and why she’d had so little. The blonde was fleeting and lived on the physical drive that was easier to come by - Kiara wanted something more… mature. They both watched the trees go by as she drove onward. “So… It’s fine that I have the hots for a sixty-three year-old man?”

Jessica snorted. “Sweetie, if you don’t judge me for being a sexually active queer girl, I will not judge you for having a crush on a nice older gentleman who, according to you, is trying really hard to be a good guy.”

She smiled, cheeks flushed with a tint of pink. And it wasn’t the sunshine on her skin. Kiara adjusted her glasses on the bridge of her nose. “Thanks, sweetheart…” she mumbled, quiet and thinking things over. They drove in the silence for a little while, looking at the road ahead and the slowly-appearing rooftop of their favourite tourist trap. Finally, she came to a lightbulb moment. “Hey, I just realised! You haven't got any action this whole trip!”

“I know, right?!” “How are you handling being single and constantly horny in a town full of nice family folk?” Jessica’s face lit up in a big, movie-star grin. “It’s killing me inside like you wouldn’t believe!”

She was about to rant about her last sexual encounter being a disappointing boy at a nightclub a year and a half ago, but a cop car was speeding right past them and heading towards the Mystery Shack. Blubs and Durland were on the case. The case of something. The two girls exchanged a look of concern, silently prayed the Stan wasn’t in trouble with the law again, and hit the gas a little harder. Something was wrong.

The ‘wrong’ was more mumbo-jumbo weirdness in Mabel and Dipper’s lives. They had left that morning with the twins fighting over having to share a room (which disheartened KP, but honestly it was bound to happen at some point) and now seemed to escalate to secret rooms (which excited Jess, but honestly it was bound to happen at some point.) Somehow the kids had gotten mixed up with a turquoise-coloured, incredibly fuzzy throw-rug with bizarre scientific abilities. The experiment gone wrong had just been lying dormant in the dusty ruins hidden in the Shack, and now was leading to absolute chaos. The house had about five people too many and a screaming, terrified pig. Candy, Grenda, the two-person squad, and—

McGucket. Jess cringed. Not that weirdo. This madness was coming to a gentle end, bit by bit, and whatever was a mess seemed to be sorting itself out. The carpet of mind-switching atomic power was putting everybody back into their own bodies. The girls had caught the tail of it, with Dipper and Mabel trying to organise everybody back into their own bodies. Apparently these lunatics had been jumping and out of each other all day via electric shocks. Sorting one at a time was a lot harder than it sounds, especially when Deputy Derland was crying and shaking in the body of a small Vietnamese girl.

“Pffftt,” muttered Candy’s sweet voice inside of pig’s body. “It’s not that bad.”

But eventually, it was done. Required a lot of organisation and KP demanding everybody split into two groups, those comfy in their own skin and those trapped in somebody else’s, and trying to convince Jess not to be an asshole and shock her ‘for fun’. Everybody became adjusted, the carpet was avoided as much as possible, and even Soos managed to stay out of Waddles. More or less.

The boy looked himself over, trying to get the taste of wooden door-chips out of his mouth. “Oh, no, I changed back!” he assured the Pines twins. He gave a glance down at his belly and the dirt on his hands. “At least I think I did.”

“I’ll still eat ya…!” muttered a starved, shivering hillbilly behind him.

The knife and fork in McGucket’s hands were terrifying. As was the threat of cannibalism. Jessica squirmed. ‘Old Man’ McGucket always made her squeemish. Like some awful mess between a tragic story of homelessness and a genuinely off-putting, unappealing ease in his awkward, clumsy behaviour. That, and he built giant robots to take out his enemies. Shady. Dipper and Mabel pushed him out as far as they could, trying to get rid of him as respectfully as possible, but it was the blonde who ended up taking him by the shoulders with gingerly fingers and leading him through the house. Of course. Just her luck.

The blue plaid wallpaper and old, rickety floors were becoming far too familiar at this point. Honestly, they spent more time in the Mystery Shack that at the hostel. She took a glance down at the old man. Long, dirty white beard. Big pickle nose, blushed and pimpled. Poor guy smelt like rotten beans. With the rest of the confused victims of ‘carpet diem’ following behind them, she tried to make polite conversation. “Don’t you have, like, a son you could bother or something?”

She caught a glimpse of that young man at the lake, anyway, but he seemed to be embarrassed of the inventor.  “Maybe!” he laughed back. “Don’t rightly know, these days!!” What a kook. Jessica found herself a little lost, slowing down bit by bit as she tried to find her way in the labyrinth of rooms. Sometimes the house was more of a maze than a home. But McGucket pointed at a particular hallway. “Door’s that way, little lady!”

Jess frowned. A particularly correct hallway. “I know, I know…”

McGucket wouldn’t keep his mouth shut. “Has that pig always lived here?!”

“Mabel got him at a fun-fair, not that it’s any of your business.”

“You can win pigs at the fun-fair?!”

“Yeah, I…” Jess glanced at the living-room as they walked by. McGucket seemed to have his eyes set on the square-jawed, overweight uncle sitting in front of the TV. She snickered. “Were you talking about Grunkle Stan?”

“That’s a nice name for a pig!!”

Okay, she had to laugh at that. The hard push against his slack shoulders eased up just a bit. She was expecting her boss to yell at the two of them for poking fun, but he seemed pretty focused on cleaning a pair of glasses. Or maybe the episode of Baby Fights was particularly interesting. Whatever. She opened up the front door and shooed everybody out, a gentle hand waving away the two girls and the charming officers. Blubs began to give Grenda a proper talking to about ‘excessive giggling’. The sky was peach with the setting sun. Pink seemed to be the colour of Jessica’s summer nights these days. It was a nice view.

She looked down to her left. McGucket was watching the sky, too. Even through his cross-eyed pupils and hundred-yard stare. She would have thought it was sweet if not for the overwhelming stench of raccoons, rusty tin, and unwashed clothing.

Oh, to hell with it. The guy hadn’t eaten and was clearly homeless. Apparently McGucket slept in the Gravity Falls junkyard - he couldn’t help that he was as unstable as a rowboat in a storm, and was probably too crazy to remember this, anyway. Jess pulled a crisp fifty-dollar note from the inside of her bare palm, and held it out to the old man. He blinked at it.

She winced. “Please just take it.”

“What for?” he asked. His voice was still as twangy as banjo string.

She grimaced. “You haven’t eaten in a week and you smell like crap and I don’t want you in this house again, okay? Just take the money.”

It all came out a lot quicker and awkward than she’d anticipated. But the old guy didn’t seem to mind. Then again McGucket also had a bandaid on his beard and a cast for a wrist injury that had probably healed five years ago. He played with the note in his hands, stretching and twisting it about. He stood there, a little stunned, and Jess closed the door on him. Weirdo. The four kids were talking outside, trying to avoid the questions of the officers, and the house was finally quiet. Thank God. All that pig-screaming and running around in literal circles was getting to her. So much for a calm day getting groceries.

Jessica risked having a float, lifting up her feet and pocketing her hands in her overalls. Down the quiet hallways of old wood, save for the sound of crying children muffled in the lounge-room down the hallway. The static sound of the channels being flicked through one by one gave the house some white noise to it. It was nice. Cozy. Along with the gentle sounds of soft voices, understanding and anxious tones, that she only recognised as that of her best friend. She ducked in her head to find Kiara and Stanford there, changing channels. The eye-wear in his hand was practically squeaky clean, but the guy wouldn’t stop polishing it. KP had the remote and seemed to be finding something on the telly.

They were shaped kind of different from the ones he usually wore. She nodded towards them, and got to her feet pronto before their boss could recognise them. “Cool glasses.” He pocketed them in the striped boxer shorts, and grumbled something incoherent. She tried more conversation. “… They new?”

“Old,” answered the man gruffly. He reclined back in his vomit-coloured chair. This house had furniture from so many decades it was getting ridiculous. But nothing beat the old chair and the stone walls of the living room. He ignored her for a moment, and looked up at the better babysitter. “You gonna join in on this rerun or leave the mystery to me?”

KP laughed a little too loudly. “U-Uh… yeah! Sure!” And while there was room on the massive arms of the chair, she picked the soft and worn-out lounge to lie back on. A safe distance from Stanford and hopefully enough for him to forget the blush that was spreading to her face. Jess smiled internally. Girl had it bad.

Stan noticed the staring. He glanced at Jess up and down, and hiked a thumb towards the stairwell. He wasn’t going to have her standing around being a millennial nightmare when she could’ve been put to some good work. Especially when the ‘suck up’ contest was at an end and he could no longer abuse the fine line between ‘child labour’ and ‘time with the kids’. “Goldilocks, go clean up the new room for Dipper tonight, will ya?”

Her face caved. “Why me?”

“Because the kids have worked all day, Soos is being weird, and KP and I are watching TV. Get to it.”

The past week, she’d spent plenty of time being nice and doing favours for other people. Buying a video camera for the kids, making a spectacular carnival for herself and Bill to play in, and creating money from thin air to feed a weird old guy who married something that he found in a dumpster. Maybe the good-deeds energy from it was still in effect, or maybe the fact that KP and Stanford could have some time alone together was reason enough to do it. Jessica pretended to whine and get under Stan’s skin. Arms folded, leaning over to try and see the blurred screen, big pomp and fuss with her chest stuck out defensively. Play up and act like the clown. But when she left, Jess gave the slightest wink to KP. Those two could have some fun, even if was at an arm’s distance apart.

Kiara glanced nervously between the television screen and Stanford Pines. It was an ad-break, and she was trying to find something to talk about other than the massive, quiet, ink-blot of tension and romantic interest. “So…” she tried. “Th-the room’s going to Dipper then?”

Stan gave a shrug. “Yeah, let the nerd have it! It suits him.” He cleared his throat a little, reclining back on the couch and putting his hands behind his head. “I was gonna give it to you two girls, but I figured life at the hostel seemed pretty fun. Didn’t wanna, uh… cramp your style or anything.”

KP scoffed. “Yeah, it’s fun if you enjoy unwashed dishes, termites, and listening to people have loud sex at three in the morning…!”

“Ha!” The old man chuckled and turned to the young woman at his side. The re-run of Ducktective seemed to be less important. “Yeah you’re right. A pretty thing like you must be smothered with attention from all the guys there.”

Kiara could have swallowed her tongue as the red blush claimed her face.

The room was found by Soos that very morning. He’d decided, on his own love for the place and because Mr Mystery told him to, to clean up the boxes in the storage area. The towers of cardboard were greying, some soggy, all of them covered in specks of dust and mildew. They were sealed clumsily by Stanford with duct-tape and remained unopened. The guy had done as best as he could to organise them, but being unable to see what was inside it was more about vacuuming and dusting the piles already there. But he’d moved around enough to reveal a door, traditionally carved from redwood and resembling faintly of a Swedish get-away. Painted with green, yellow and blue floral accents amongst the deep rouge tones. This whole house was designed with bits and bobs from different styles, but this room was by far the strangest. When they’d asked Stan what the hell he’d locked it away for, apparently it was just easier to shut off the previous owner’s junk entirely than try to sort through and figure out what to sell. Lazybones.

It was caked in dust, save for where the kids had been running around. The first thing Jess did was roll up that chaotic piece of carpeting, not even touching the weird old thing but rather curling it up with her mind. The heavy piece of blue and gold shag helped prop the door open and let the room breathe a little more. The tag of Experiment 78 stuck out in a faded silver label. The square underneath was that perfect shape of dust-free space, and the greyed wooden floor was nearly white from being beneath the rug all these years. It had a stronger scotch and masculine smell, like Stan’s office, but it was fainter with the sands of time and smelt less of sweaty laundry. The guy really hadn’t touched it for a while.

Flying made things easier. As did summoning a dusting brush and a vacuum cleaner when she needed one. That way she could get rid of all the creepy cobwebs up in the hard-to-reach corners. Way easier to do now than when Jess was just a five-foot rocket without any fuel. She took in the room’s ambience while she was up there - this 70’s-designed hide-away of red asymmetrical furniture, low knee-high cabinets, and a small, stained-glass window with pink and orange squares. It filled the room with roses, the blue throw-pillows and yellow lamps being little spots of contrast to the colour. It was sweet. Very nicely designed. The rest of the Shack seemed to be mismatched with a memory of the original log-cabin, retro vibe. Stanford had renovated the place time and time again to make his home into a Mystery Shack. The Mystery Shack. But this place? It was untouched.

She pulled down the blue sheet that was hung open over a fold-away mirror. Somebody didn’t want to be seen, but it sure as hell wasn’t Jess. With a little turn and pose, twirling the duster between her fingers and checking out her own curves, she spotted little glass pyramids lined up on a shelf behind her. After a brief clean-up came a chance to play, and she lifted them up in the pink light of the room, reflecting rainbows across the walls and mirrors. A laugh escaped into the quiet. This room seemed to have plenty of knick-knacks - the calendar on the wall was stuck on a picture of a very fierce-looking owl (marked with the fourth of July, 1982), a trophy for a valedictorian, and a framed portrait of a short-haired, bushy-browed young lady who looked a lot like Mary Shelly.

Jess squinted. “… Fuck, I think that is Mary Shelly.”

Books, lamps, and retro clock on top of a blocked-up fireplace. She broke her foot roughly through the boards and vacuumed old ash. A lot of notes had been burned there. And there were stacks and stacks of papers all around. The shelves were full of old-school scoff novels and first editions. Some were guilty pleasure pulp types, and others hardback copies of famous theories and nonfiction collections. This room was… kind of awesome. Jessica was more of a 1960’s, psychedelic, free-love and flower-crowns soul to her trashy 90’s aesthetic, but she really did like the touch of modern 70’s here and there. No wonder Dipper and Mabel fought for it. If she had her say, she’d have been knocking them out for the key, too.

She adjusted the round, yellow lampshade until her feminine standards of ‘tidy’ were met. It was a shame this place was about to smell like unwashed jocks, and not the charming shelf of whiskies and scotch. It was a real shame of Stan to keep this place hidden for so long. But it was understandable. After all, this place was nothing like him. Nothing like Stanford Pines at all.

[brittanyballwrites]

Stop it { part of Agents of the Eternal universe }

"Stop it!  Everyone!  Just stop!"

 The words echoed out of her mouth, causing a shock to go through the room at the power behind them, she hadn't been able to retain control during this entire ordeal.  Now she had to listen to them argue about what was to be done, when there was only one fact in her mind:  

  { He's dead...cold and gone. }

 Items around the room begin to vibrate, as a breeze from seemingly nowhere rushes through the room, surrounding her and blowing through her obsidian hair.  There are a pair of blue eyes on her that are familiar, and before she can register their owner is behind her.  

 { Selene…. }

 The voice in her head is not her own.  This is something that she knows for certain.  It was one she has heard so many times, one that has guided her through multiple events in her life that seemed to be nonsensical, helping her stem the tide against the immortal evils that attempted to take over and destroy this world.  

 { Abraxilt. }

 “That’s it, Princess”  His voice whispered in her ear now, pulling her focus from where she held her mother and Alistair’s parents captive, unable to move lest they be hit by her torrent.  “This must be so hard ,and none of us have really stopped to think about how this is effecting you; what you’ve had taken from you.”  His voice is smooth and calming as he tucked some of her dark hair behind her ear..  

 “I can’t….”  Her voice is deeply broken as she squeezed her eyes shut, trying to quiet the torrent inside of her mind; other sides of herself who wanted revenge and more.

 “Of course you can, you control it, as I’ve always told you; do not allow it to control you.”  He laid a pale, yet oddly strong, hand on her shoulder.  “Deep breath, now just release it, let go of your grip on it.”

 Her silver eyes slowly open as she follows his command.  The wind stops, the items settle and she is left feeling exhausted.  She proceeded to leave the room with the room without another word. This left the residents of the room a little bewildered, though thankful to Abraxilt for intervening.

 “What exactly was that?”  Barbara asked cautiously, as he walked into the kitchen, so they wouldn’t be overheard as easily.  

 “That, is exactly what I have been warning all of you I have been worried about, since your son met his untimely death.”  Abraxilt shook his head as he sighed, he forgot the kind of people he was dealing with, Terrance was the only one among them that had half a brain.  “Do you remember what happened to Calypso, when she lost her soulmate?”  

 “Callie went from the person we knew, to the one we see now, not always entirely coherent.”  Selene’s mother’s voice spoke up, intensely worried.

 “Did you ever stop to ask yourself why?”  His eyes fell on Rainia, unbelieving that he had to explain this to, her, of all people.  Yet here he was, explaining to them as if they were the juvenile instead.  No matter who had put him in charge of her, he still felt responsible for Selene, especially in the wake of this; no one would understand what she was feeling and going through.  “It’s about more than losing a person you care about.  They are joined on a soul level, they were able to communicate in ways that none of us will ever truly know.  She is special, this well all know, and this made their connection infinitely deeper than most.  So for Selene, this is literally like losing half of herself.  Sides of magic she was able to touch before, she won’t be able to now.  It will have changed her irrevocably and that will have an impact on her grief.”

 “So what do you suggest we do, Brax?”  Terrance’s booming voice echoed through the kitchen as he looked at his polar opposite.

 “I suggest we watch her, carefully, and if it comes to it; I will take her somewhere away from others.  There will be less of a chance of the innocent getting caught up in the crossfire and she cannot hurt me because of my ability.”  Abraxilt said firmly.

 “Then we wait.”  Rainia’s voice was small, but she knew that ultimately this was right.

 ～～～～～～～～

 Abraxilt has been sitting in the sitting room near the fireplace for several hours now.  He’s doing what research he can to help her, because he can’t stand seeing her in so much pain, especially with how young she is.  She’s only just able to drink and her entire world has been ripped apart.  

 He startles when he hears what he initially thinks to be a banshee, realizing after a few moments that it’s Selene screaming from what has to be another nightmare.  He hurries to her room, it seems that anymore his energy signature is the only thing capable of calming her down, when she gets in states like this.  But as he gets to her door Terrance and Rainia are already outside, on the floor by the wall.  

 “What happened?”

 “We tried to go in and help and the easiest explanation I have is psychic feedback.  When we got to the doorway we were thrown backward.” Terrance explained as he helped his companion up.

 “Please go in there and help my baby!”  Rainia’s voice cracks as she held onto Terrance for support.  She merely gets a nod from Abraxilt and whatever barrier that was there before seems to let him through.  

 He did not expect, when he walked in the room, to see her sitting straight up in bed and speaking low and quickly to herself.  As he approached the bed there was a golden sheen over her eyes that obscured their color.  

 “There is an evil that is rising in Bayou, child.  Your presence is needed, only you can help dispel the darkness in Lousiana with your light.  Baton Rouge is the place to be in two months' time.”  

 As soon as the words finish she takes an inhale that sounds as if she hasn’t breathed in some time, rocketing forwards only to be caught by his invisible vectors as he sat down.

 “Alright now, breathe….”  His hands come to rest on her arms as he attempted to get her to look at him, to make sure that she was back with them.  He cradled her head into his shoulder as she started to cry.  “There we go, Princess.  You’ll get used to the emotions after a while.  But it seems as if the universe isn’t done with you.  Your goddess appears to have delivered you a message, and a place to be in a few months.  Enough time for us to figure out how to help you.”  He could feel the way she slumped against him, energy draining from her.  

 “I need to see Calypso.”  Her voice was soft as she spoke, though there was an urgency to it.

 “Why do you need to see her?”  He pulled her away and ran a hand through her hair as he looked in her eyes, to guard against any falsehoods.

 “I can help.  I have to help her.”  She whispered.  “I don’t know how I know, but I do.  I have to see her!”  Selene immediately makes to get up and before she can get the rest of the way off her bed, he grabs her hand stilling her.

 “Alright.  We will go see her tomorrow.  I promise, but you need to get some sleep before then, recover your energy, for whatever it is that you have planned.”  He urged her, getting her to lay back down.  “I’ll even stay in the room, make sure that you sleep well.  Then the two of us will go and see her.”  He smiled in an attempt to appease her.  

 “But I want to go now!”  She snapped at him, baring her teeth.

 “I know you do, Princess, so I’m sorry about this.”  He gave her an apologetic look before he placed his hand on her forehead and closed her eyes.  She nearly immediately falls asleep and he takes the hand off of her head, running it slowly hovering over her, down the length of her body with a sigh.  “That should guarantee you at least a few hours of dreamless sleep.”  He walked back out in the hall to inform her worried mother of what he had found out.  

 { Well, I certainly didn’t expect her to be receiving visions from powerful entities like that… }

 ～～～～～～～～

At noon Terrance is shocked at what he sees.  Selene comes walking into the kitchen in a flowing cream dress with bell sleeve, it merely serves as a reminder of her place as one of the light.  There is a silver triple moon necklace that falls right on her breast bone.  Her hair is pulled partially up on the top while the dark strands hang loose and tucked behind her ears.  Though her makeup was dark and that was different.  

 He pressed a cup into her hand and watched as she sat down to drink the tea.  The trees shifted and somehow a shaft of light illuminated the chair that she was sitting on, she turned her face up to the sun and hummed softly.  Terrance found it all just a bit too coincidental for his liking. But there is another distraction as she tapped the metal ring on her index finger against the cup, drawing his attention to the doorway where he finds Abraxilt walking straight to the coffee pot.  

 “I knew you’d be awake at noon, a little telling of your patronage don’t you think?”  He quirked his eyebrow at her as he leaned against the counter.

 “Okay, so can we please, talk about what everyone is thinking real quick before it drives me insane?”  She chuckled as she stared at him.  “I straight up didn’t know you owned clothing besides a suit.”

 “You think I’m going to wear my good clothes to go visit her?  I don’t know what we are going to end up getting into and it’s less noticeable and I thought that especially with all of the happenings lately that it would be a good idea to err on the side of caution.”  Abraxilt said as he defended his wardrobe choices.  He was in a dark red button up and tailored black jeans.

 “You may be right.”  She conceded as she looked back into her teacup, tapping the ring on the cup at random intervals.  This continued for the next few minutes until Terrance placed his hand over hers to stop her.

 “That’s enough now.”  He received a smile from her in return, and she did, in fact, cease the movements, as she finished her tea and ate the omelet that Terrance had sat in front of her.  

 “You know that you don’t have to act like our butler right?”  Selene said as she bit into it and groaned in delight.  “I’m not complaining, I do feel like I’m taking advantage of you though.”  

 “Nonsense, you and your mother both, wouldn’t eat without me.”  He chuckled as she finished up.  

 She stood up as her eyes landed on Abraxilt.  “I’m going now,”  She held out her hand as her and her bag floated into it.  “Follow me if you want.”  She shrugged as she walked out the door.

 “Well, that’s my exit,”  Abraxilt said as he looked at Terrance before finishing his coffee and leaving.

 ～～～～～～～～

It was merely a long walk to Calypso’s and when given the choice she preferred walking.  This was something that Abraxilt had found out about Selene over the time that he had mentored her.  He supposed it was something that allowed her to connect with nature.  He noticed that she was fidgeting with the same ring she had been earlier.

 “It’s his isn’t it?”  His voice suddenly uttered.

 “It is.”  She sighed as she paused in her movements.  “You can still feel his energy in it, I don’t feel quite so alone,”  Selene admitted as she shifted her bag on her shoulder.  

 “So what are we going to do when we get there.”  He could feel her hesitance to speak about the topic any further, he could understand that, especially in the state that she was in.  

 “I think that I can fix her, fix what was done to her by the impact of losing her soul mate.  I don’t know how I know, but I do.  Something about the messages that I got last night.  But I know that I can do something.”  She admitted as her argent eyes fell on him.  

 “Then I’m even happier that I decided to go with you, for when this inevitably goes awry,”  Abraxilt said with a smirk as he looked towards his charge.

 She couldn’t help but smile at him at that, and it took her mind off of things for a moment.  Before she had realized it they were at Calypso’s place, the woman appearing in the door as they walked up.  

 “I sensed you coming, Moon Child.”  She smiled as she stepped aside to let the pair of them in.  “Brax.”

 “Callie, nice to see you again, in better circumstances.”  The two had reached a tentative truce, though Abraxilt made her uneasy.  He had never claimed to be a force for good and it was something that Calypso and others could feel.  

 { Even villains have redeeming qualities… }

 Calypso had been told those words in confidence.  But Selene thought about them a lot.  Wondered exactly why he was still here, still helping her; when he really had no reason to.  She had come down to the thought that she was a charity case, that maybe this was how he repented for his part in Rex’s madness.

 “Hail and Welcome.”  She smiled as she walked them into her sitting room, making tea for the trio.  “What brings you to my door, you seemed most disturbed, I did not expect you so soon after…the spirits called him home.”

 “I come here to impart a gift.”  The young girl’s voice was soft.  Her eyes turn attentive to the woman in front of her who was a large part of the reason that she was still alive.  “I was granted some knowledge recently…”

 “Yes, the deities have seen fit to gift you with prophecy, as the oracles of old they can use you as a mouthpiece, to relay certain important information.  I felt your awakening in the early hours in the morning.”

 “If you will allow me, I would like to try and help,”  Selene said as she came over to sit next to her on the couch.  

 “If you wish to grant me a gift, Moon Child, I would be more insane than I already am to reject that.”  The woman had a brittle smile and Selene could see the years present on her weathered face.  

 “I understand, what it feels like, for him to be gone.”  She admitted as she tucked her legs beneath her and brought her hands two inches from either side of Calypso’s temples.  She closed her eyes as she began to concentrate.  “Because of that, I think that I can reverse whatever happened to you.”

 She took a deep breath as she closed her eyes, a faint green light emerged around her in an aura and slowly began to darken the longer she concentrated.  Abraxilt could actually see the magic swirling around her, invisible to the untrained eye.  It almost hurt him, to feel how much light was encompassed in her signature.  But as he looked at Calypso he saw darkness leaving her and some of that light entering her, cleansing her.  This only told Abraxilt that he needed to further her training as a healer.  Quite suddenly, she is blasted back into the wall, hitting her head.  He rushed over to help her up.  

 “Everything okay?”  He held her chin between his fingers as he checked to see that she was truly alright, despite the ‘fine ’ that he was sure to receive.

 “I’m fine, don’t fuss.”  She said as she looked over at Calypso eagerly.  “Callie?”

 “Selene…you beautiful child.”  She ran over and held the girl's hands between her cheeks before pressing a kiss to the middle of her forehead.  “What you have done for me, you have given me back everything I lost when that monster took him from me.  I am restored and it is all thanks to you my blessed girl.”  She smiled and ran a hand down the apple of Selene’s smiling cheek.

 “I knew it.”  She whispered excitedly as she had Abraxilt help her over so she could finish the tea and relax a little.  

[bamby0304]

The Hart: Chapter One

Summary:  When Lizzie was just a few months old, she lost her father. Fifteen years later she lost her mother, and then her sister. Now in her early twenties Lizzie spends her days and nights hunting things and saving people. When the Winchesters meet the bright eyed and bubbly blonde they don’t realise what they’re in for… and neither does she…

Part One: Who is that Girl?

Masterlist

Warning: None so far :):)

Bamby

EPOV

I walked Harvelle's Roadhouse, my second home. It wasn't really much, just another bar in another small town. But it meant more to me. It meant a lot more. When I had nowhere else to go, or had to lay low for a moment or two, this place was where I could always go no matter what.

The moment the door closed behind me the smell of stale air, leather, denim and a lot of alcohol surrounded me, as an old rock classic played from the jukebox to my left. It was exactly how it always was. It was exactly how I loved it.

Chatter softened as eyes turned to me. Though honestly, it wasn't odd.

Dressed in tight, ripped, fading grey jeans that were tucked into scratched and battered combat boots, a loose white Guns and Roses shirt that fell a little too low, showing off some decent cleavage, with my favourite bold, dark red leather jacket which completed the bad-ass look.

A number of necklaces hung from my neck, all different lengths and styles. A long black leather cord hung low with a wooden cross. A roughly cut quartz pendant hung from an old silver chain sitting just below the neckline of my shirt. Two small silver hearts- each on a chain of their own- sat closer to my neck, though not as close as my black velvet choker.

My honey gold hair was pulled to the back of my head, each stray strand a shimmer of hues that flashed as I moved my head. Naturally my hair fell down my back in long and thick waves, soft and silky. But tonight I'd put my straightener to it, flattening the curls to a point where they were almost stiff.

Big, round eyes that could be both sweet and sultry. They were a blue I'd never seen on anyone else before. Once someone had described them like 'the deep, dark blue sky before night fall, with flecks of light like the silver stars that follow the setting of the sun'. Either way, they'd gotten me whatever I wanted more than a few times.

I had a few tattoos. An arrow on the inside of my left pointer. The infinity symbol on the inside of my left pinky. A humming bird behind my right ear. Peeking out from the small gap between my shirt and pants was a rose. On my collar bone rested three words, 'Live a little...'. Then there was the covered tattoo, the lunar cycle that ran down my spine.

As I continued to stand by the door my pale pink lips curved up into a grin and my tongue ran along my bottom lip as my eyes flickered from face to face.

Hunters sat everywhere, drinking, talking, getting ready for whatever job they had next. I'd just come back from dealing with a nest of vampires with a couple other hunters I'd worked with before. But just like every other time, once the job was done they dumped me here.

I was never the kind of person others kept around for long. I guess with this job you either click or you don't. Unfortunately for me, the people I clicked with were in the life but only on the sidelines. There were only one or two hunters I could actually see myself sticking with.

I lifted my hand to the loose strands of hair hanging by my temple. My long, delicate fingers tucked the hair behind my ear as I set my sights on the person I was looking for. Standing tall- despite my petite and slender figure- I headed for the bar, moving lightly and silently because of my small frame.

Ellen Harvelle turned from the customer she'd just served and found herself staring right at me. "Well, look what the cat dragged in." the cloth she'd been holding was thrown onto the counter as she spread her arm wide. "You gonna come here and say hello, or what?"

Grin growing, I stepped up to the bar, placing my hand on its surface before I jumped over- an easy task with how light I was. Landing right in front of Ellen, I stepped into her arms and accepted her hug, as my own arms wrapped around her.

After losing my family eight years ago I'd come to love Ellen like a surrogate mother. She'd taken me in for a while and helped keep me alive. When things ever got too rough for me, she was always willing to offer her shoulder to cry on or some tough words to set me straight. She made this place home.

"Lizzie?"

I pulled back from Ellen, my grin turning into a smile as I looked over at Jo- Ellen's daughter. She was my best friend, like a sister really. She was smart, witty, funny and one of the best people I knew. There was potential for her to become a great hunter too, but the fact her mother never let her go anywhere made it hard for me to teach her much. Though I still took some time to teach her a few things.

Smiling widely, she came around the bar, reaching me just as her mum stepped back to let us two girls hug.

As Jo and I squeezed each other tightly, Ellen looked to me. "So, the jobs all done?"

Nodding, I stepped from Jo's arms so I could look to both women. "Yep. Done and dusted... Or well, decapitated. Thought I'd come home and see if Ash has any jobs for me." I shrugged, shoving my hands into the pockets of my jacket. "So, where is he?"

Ellen opened her mouth to speak but Jo beat her to the punch. "Actually, I might have something."

"Excuse me?" both Ellen and I asked, though I sounded more surprised while Ellen sounded more pissed.

Jo simply shrugged. "I've been looking into a couple of disappearances and I thought-"

"Nothing. You thought nothing!" Ellen snapped.

I pulled back and inched myself away from the pair as they started bickering. It wasn't the first time I'd seen or heard the two argue over Jo and hunting. Ellen hadn't liked me being out there and I wasn't even her daughter. So I could only imagine how protective she was of Jo. They were literally the only family both of them had.

At least they have each other.

Moving back to the other side of the bar, I found myself a free table and set myself down on the chair as I leaned back and waited for Ash. A few minutes passed before Jo came to sit across from me, placing two beers on the table for each of us.

"She's impossible."

I grinned, lifting my beer to my lips and taking a quick drink before saying something. "You know you're both just as bad as each other." when she just rolled her eyes I couldn't help but chuckle lightly. "Tell you what. You give me the details to this job and I'll let you know whether I think you should do it or not. If its yes, I'll get you out of here myself."

"Really?" her eyes lit up as she realized this was her chance.

Shrugging, I placed my beer back on the table. "Have I ever lied to you before?"

Without hesitating a second longer she was up and out of her seat, rushing to the back of the bar- more than likely to the office- before she came back carrying a file. The moment she placed it in front of me I started to flick through the pages, willing to at least give her a chance.

"So?" she asked before I'd had a chance to finish looking through the first page.

I looked up at where she still stood by the table expectantly. "Honey, its gonna take me a bit longer than two seconds to decide whether or not we're a go. So why don't you give me a few minutes and then I'll come fine you."

"Okay." she nodded, though reluctantly. "I'll be by the bar. Just make sure my mum doesn't find out your doing this or she'll keep both of us from the job." she warned before finally walking away, leaving me to the file.

DPOV

After the job Sam and I finished with the mind control twins, we figured we could use some time off. Just a night or two. We'd been crashing at the roadhouse waiting to see if Ash could find any more cases that might lead to more psychics like Sam and the few other's we'd come across lately.

We walked into the bar, nodding to Ellen as she served some customers before the two of us found ourselves a table.

Jo came over a moment later, placing two beers in front of us. "You boys waiting for Ash?"

"Yeah." I nodded, looking up at her. As much as I liked the chick, I didn't think it would go anywhere between the two of us. Not when her mum was always around. So I tried my hardest not to act any differently when it came to her. "You seen him around?"

"Uh yeah, he's back in his room but he should be out soon. Once he finds out someone's waiting for him. But I'll let him know you're here." she shrugged before heading off, her mind clearly somewhere else.

I thought what she said was a little strange. Ash never jumped to attention any other time Sam and I were around, so why would now be any different? Did he have something for us?

Before I could call Jo back or ask Sam what he thought, Ash came out of the back and headed straight for our table. Only to come short as he stopped at the table before ours.

Frowning, I looked around Sam's shoulder and what I saw there had my eyes go wide.

"Dean?" Sam must have noticed the change in my mood. He turned to get a look at what had my attention before he froze as well.

Ash sat next to a chick. But not just any chick, this one was gorgeous. Thick blonde hair pulled back. Pink lips that were obviously soft- I could tell even from here. A few tattoos scattered along her skin. Dressed in boots, tight jeans, a Guns and Roses shirt and dark red leather jacket with a few necklaces hanging from her neck. But it was her eyes that left me speechless. I'd never seen a blue like that before...

She was smiling at Ash as the two spoke. Her eyes crinkled at the corners at whatever he said. Reaching forward, she placed a hand on his which had him tense. I had no idea who this chick was, but she was gorgeous, way out of Ash's league and yet giving him all her attention.

Who is that girl?

EPOV

Just like Jo and Ellen, I was pretty close with Ash too. I knew he had a crush on me, I mean he wasn't very good at hiding his feelings when it came to me. But honestly, he was more like a brother. Or, well... Maybe a cousin. I don't think I could ever have a brother as odd as him.

Someone must have told him I was here, because after about ten minutes of being by myself, going through Jo's file, he showed up. He didn't have a job for me, but that was a good thing. Jo seemed to be on to something, and if I agreed to let her take the case then I was going with her.

After talking for a couple of minutes Ash left me to my work again. He had more people to talk to, and I understood that. Plus, I needed to be alone in order to take in all the information Jo had collected.

I was in my own little world for hours. I'd hardly noticed the set of eyes watching me from the table next to mine.

DPOV

Ash had nothing for us, as usual. But he was at least decent enough to come by and let us know. I hadn't cared much though. My mind was on other things. On a particular blonde haired and blue-eyed girl to be exact.

Before Ash could leave, I grabbed his shoulder to stop him, nodding to the girl he'd been talking to before. "Who's the chick?"

He looked confused for a moment as he looked from me to my hand on his shoulder, but then he realized who I was talking to and answered the question. "That's Lizzie. She's a hunter. One of the best I know."

I was shocked. "Really? A hunter? She doesn't look like it." I noted, watching as she got up from where she sat at her table and moved to where Jo stood by the bar.

"She may look sweet and innocent. But she is all attitude." Ash turned to look at her as well, leaning forward in his seat as he let out a sigh. "Pure yet rough like an uncut diamond. Beautiful like the evening moon. As intoxicating as whiskey." he shook his head, off in his own little world.

Sam smirked at him, the only one at our table not watching the girl. "You two got a thing going on, Ash?"

I wasn't too sure why, but the idea of a girl like her getting with a guy like Ash made me a little uneasy. Or maybe I was just jealous. Either way, I didn't like the pictures that came to mind at the thought.

Shaking his head, Ash turned back to Sam. "Oh, nah, man. She's always on the road. Jobs got her going everywhere. No point startin' something you can't finish." he shrugged as he got up. "Well, I'll let you two know if I find anything." was all he said before he walked off.

As I watched him leave I found myself turning back to Jo and Liz again. The two were obviously close, though seeing as she was close with Ash that didn't surprise me. Jo, Ellen and Ash were like a family.

The two were talking in hushed tones, keeping an eye out as they gestured to a file that had been placed on the counter in front of them.

Curiosity piqued, I grabbed my beer and down the last of it before getting up. "Gettin' a refill, Sammy." I mumbled as I headed for the bar.

Jo looked up first, the two of them going silent as I came to stand by them. "Dean..." her eyes fell to my empty beer bottle. "Need another?"

"Uh, yeah."

Before Jo could move, Liz turned and reached over the bar as she grabbed a beer and handed it over to me. "It was gonna be mine, but I can get another." she shrugged.

"Thanks." I gave her a slight grin as I offered a short nod. "I'm Dean Winchester."

"Pleasure to meet you, Dean Winchester." she stretched out her hand, which I took and shook without hesitating. "I'm Elizabeth Rose Hart. But my friends call me Lizzie."

"So does that mean we're friends?" I asked as my grin grew a little.

"Not at all." she returned my grin with her own before she turned to Jo. "I'm gonna grab a beer, hang out for a bit longer. I'll see you later." she leaned forward to place a kiss on Jo's cheek and then turned to leave, but not before catching my eyes again as she walked off.

I didn't watch her leave but instead turned to Jo. "You two pretty close, huh?"

Rolling her eyes, she moved to walk behind the bar. "We've been friends for five years or so now. Mum took her in when she was seventeen."

"No family?"

"Nope." she started to wipe down the bench as she went on. "Family died when she was fifteen. Its why she became a hunter." she stopped talking and cleaning as she realized she'd said too much. Sighing, she turned to look at me again. "Why are you so interested anyway? You like her or something?" the way she asked the question was meant to sound lighthearted, but I could hear the slight jealousy in her voice.

Yes. "No." it wasn't a complete lie. Elizabeth was hot, but I didn't know her well enough to like her or not. "Just not used to seeing female hunters as young as her around."

"Well, she's one of the best I know." she went back to cleaning as she kept talking to me. "Even goes off on her own sometimes. But mum doesn't like it, so she tries to find other hunters to tag along with. Doesn't like sticking around here for too long."

"Hey, Jo!" someone called from the other side of the bar.

Looking up, she nodded to the person who'd called for her before she turned to me. "I gotta get back to work." she gave a light smile before she walked off.

I turned and headed back to Sam, beer in hand.

The moment I sat in my seat, he spoke up. "So, did you get her number?" he grinned as if he thought I'd struck out.

I lifted my beer to my lips and took a quick swig not even bothering with a response.

EPOV

I'd crashed in Jo's room last night long before the bar had closed or she'd finished work. I'd needed the rest after a long hunt and was now refreshed and rejuvenated. That's how I worked. Run on fuel and fumes for as long as I'm on a hunt, and then crash for about ten to twelve hours to get ready for the next job.

After waking up I'd headed for the bar knowing someone would be there to keep me company while I eat some food. Sure enough, Ellen had kept me company as I ate the greasy bacon and egg sandwich I'd whipped up while she cleaned the bar.

Of course it hadn't taken long before Jo showed up and began to beg her mum to let the two of us go on a hunt together. That's about the time I'd curled up in the booth where I sat, trying my best not to draw attention to myself.

"You can't keep me here!" Jo snapped, following her mother.

"Oh, don't you bet on that, sweetie."

The door to the bar opened, though I seemed to be the only one to notice. The guy from last night- Dean I think his name was- walked in with another guy.

Last night I'd been drawn to Dean, sure. I mean who wouldn't be with those green eyes, perfectly chiseled jaw and that grin he'd given me. Oh, God that grin. He was one good looking guy. But I wasn't into getting with other hunters- not again. I was now a strictly civilian kind of girl. Meet 'em then leave while on the job. Best way not to get hurt.

The guy he was with, well I could tell they were brothers in an instant. He was pretty good looking as well. Even though he had a baby face, he was taller- though not by much. It made it hard to figure out if he was the younger brother or the older one- my money was on younger. Brown, almost hazel like eyes, thick dark hair that fell a little past his ears. Yeah, he was pretty cute.

"What are you gonna do, chain me up in the basement?" Jo's voice caught my attention, pulling me back to the arguing women.

"You know what, you've had worse ideas than that lately." Ellen turned to her. "You don't wanna stay, don't stay. Go back to school."

"I didn't belong there. I was a freak with the knife collection."

"Yeah, but getting yourself killed on some dusty back road, that's where you belong?"

Before Jo responded she looked over her mother's shoulder, finally noticing the two guys. She fell silent, clearly not wanting them around to hear all this.

I was different though. I'd been around a lot longer, I'd seen these two fight a lot over the years. Plus, I was actually kind of a part of this argument. It was only a matter of time before Ellen turned her rage on to me for even thinking about taking her daughter on a hunt.

Ellen turned to see what her daughter was looking at, before she simply sighed. "Guys, bad time."

The one who wasn't Dean nodded. "Yes, ma`am."

"Yeah, we rarely drink before ten anyway." Dean noted as they started to back up to leave.

"Wait." Jo called before they could take more than a step or two. "I wanna know what they think about this."

"What, my opinion isn't enough?" I asked, suddenly feeling a little forgotten and insulted. But those feelings were squashed to nothing when Ellen turned to glare at me. "Never mind..." I turned back to my empty plate.

"I don't care what they think." Ellen told her daughter, who continued to grab the file anyway so she could show the guys.

"Are you guys open?"

All five of us turned to see a family of four standing by the door. Their Nebraska is for Lovers shirts gave me an impression they were either tourists or a happy holidaying family.

"No!" Jo answered at the same time her mother snapped yes.

The husband and wife shared a look before the man spoke again, gesturing to the door behind them. "We'll just check out the Arby's down the road." he offered a polite and uncomfortable smile before they all left.

The moment the door closed, the bar phone started to ring.

Jo and Ellen turned to each other, neither willing to give in, until one had to. Rolling her eyes, Ellen moved to answer the phone which gave Jo her moment to talk to the guys.

"Three weeks ago, a young girl disappears from a Philadelphia apartment." she offered Dean the folder. When he didn't take it, she insisted. "Take it, it won't bite."

"No, but your mum might." he noted, causing me to chuckle lightly. Jo continued to stand there, giving him no choice but to take the file and give it a quick look.

As he checked it out she went on to explain the case. "This girl wasn't the first. Over the past eighty years, six women have vanished, all from the same building, all young blondes. Only happens every decade or two, so cops never eyeball the pattern. So, we're either dealing with one very old serial killer-"

Dean cut her off suddenly. "Who put this together? Ash?"

Jo shook her head. "I did it myself."

Seeing as Ellen was still distracted, I took this moment to move over to stand next to Jo. "I'm taking this case, and don't think otherwise. But, it's always good to have a few extra pair of hands."

The guy I didn't know turned to Dean with a shrug. "I gotta admit, we hit the road for a lot less. And it might not hurt to have someone else tag along."

"Good." Ellen hung up the phone, coming around to join the conversation again. "You like the case so much, you take it."

"Mum-" Jo went to argue, but Ellen stopped her from going on.

"Joanna Beth, this family has lost enough. I won't lose you too." she then turned to me. "And you sure as hell aren't going either."

My jaw dropped. "Why not?"

"Young blondes." she lifted her hand to gesture at both Jo and me. "You two are exactly what this thing hunts." she turned her attention to me. "I'm fine with you chasing after every other monster out there that's just looking for anything it can get its hands on. But when you are the specific thing that's being hunted..." she shook her head. "It's not happening."

I could not believe this. Sure, I thought Ellen wouldn't be happy with me. But this? This was taking it a step too far.

...

Sure enough, the guys decided to take the case and left shortly after. Jo and I were too pissed to spend another second in the bar, so we headed for her room. After a few minutes I was left on my own, which only made me stew in my anger more. It was when Jo walked in with a big grin on her face that my mood lightened.

"You wanna get out of here?"

I sat up on the mattress I'd been lying on that had been laid out on the floor for me. "And go where exactly?" I asked, feeling a bubbling excitement grow in me as figured out the answer before she said a single word.

She grinned. "We're going hunting."

Bamby

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