#TAG Fic

[heathersgameoftag]

[cg29fics]

Gone

Having issues with my post’s again. So If you are reading along with this then you may need to check you’ve not missed previous chapters.

Tagging 🔖 Sorry if I’ve missed anyone: @janetm74 @drileyf @katblu42 @psychoseal @weirdburketeer @alexthefly @misstb2 @thundergeek59 @burningcowboyhoagietaco @dragonoffantasyandreality

Originally this was the final chapter. However, a year later I added the Epilogue - which some of you who originally read Gone may have missed. I’ve added the epilogue at the end of this chapter save waiting.

Thank you to everyone who’s read and commented on these posts. Hope you enjoy these final 2 chapters 🥰

Previous Chapter 53 - Home

Chapter 54. Soul

Everyone had continued to celebrate Virgil’s homecoming, with the party only being wound down when Virgil had begun to grow tired from the day’s activities and had experienced some pain. As he had not wanted to leave the gathering, Jeff and Scott had placed him comfortably on the sofa, while Brains gave him his medication. Shortly after, even though they had all been chatting quite loudly, Virgil had drifted off into a deep sleep.

As none of them had wanted to disturb him, they all made their way into different sections of the household. Not wanting to be far from Virgil’s side, all four boys and their father had gone outside and were now enjoying the evenings warmth from the side of the pool. Except, of course, for Gordon who had decided to take the opportunity, and enjoy an evening dip. Meanwhile, after completing the process of cleaning up, and packing away any leftovers, Ruth, Parker, Kyrano and Tin-Tin had decided to head to their rooms, while Brains had gone straight into his lab, so he could continue his work on some new experiment.

Penelope however, had made herself comfortable next to Virgil, wanting to be with him should he wake. She was glad she had remained when he began to stir from a nightmare. “Hey, it’s okay,”

“Pen?”

“Yes, it’s me,” she soothed, “no one’s going to hurt you!”

Virgil opened his eyes and smiled up at Penelope who was now holding him in her arms. “Hi.”

Penelope looked at him with concern. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, it was just a bad dream.”

“Anything you want to talk about?”

Virgil sighed. “It was just the usual.”

“Hood?” Penelope frowned.

“Yes,” Virgil nodded sadly.

“He’s never going to be able to hurt you or anyone else again, you do know that right?”

“Yes,” Virgil confirmed, “according to the doctors and John, the nightmares are my minds way of processing what’s happened.”

“That does sound like something John would say!” she stated, with an amused smile. “So, other than the bad dreams, how are you feeling?”

“I’m good,” Virgil answered honestly, “how could I not be when I’ve woken up next to you?”

“Charmer!” Penny smiled, kissing him tenderly.

Virgil returned the kiss and then looked around the room. “Where is everyone?”

Your father and brothers are outside,” Penny informed him, “Brains is in his laboratory, and your grandmother, Tin-Tin, Kyrano and Parker have retired for the evening.”

“And why aren’t you in bed?”

“I wanted to be here when you woke up.”

“Oh, you did?” Virgil grinned tickling her.

“Virg, stop!” Penny giggled. “Do you want me to get your dad, or one of your brothers?”

“No,” Virgil said, stopping and pulling her closer to him, “I’m very happy it’s just me and you!”

“Oh, you are?”

“Most definitely!” He replied, kissing her once more.

They both continued to hold each other until Virgil spoke once more. “So, how many of them were hassling you for details about what’s going on between us?”

“Just Tin-Tin, and what about you?”

“All of my brothers!” Virgil chuckled.

“And what did you tell them?” Penelope asked.

“Nothing, I guess I thought it was best to discuss the matter between us first.”

“I believe that would be a good idea!”

They looked at each other, both wanting to speak what was in their hearts, both slightly scared of the others reaction. Eventually, Virgil broke the silence. “I’ve always liked you, but I was always worried that if I did make a move, you wouldn’t feel the same way, and our friendship would be essentially ruined. Then there was Anderbad.”

“Mm… That was some night!” Penelope smirked.

“It certainly was!” Virgil grinned.

“And since then?”

“Well, I know we both agreed at the time that we would remain friends, but after what happened with the Hood, I realised that sometimes you don’t know what you’ve got until it’s nearly been ripped away from you… He nearly took everything, but thankfully he didn’t... And it made me reflect upon things… Life is too short to not speak out about your true feelings!”

“And what are your true feelings?” She questioned coyly.

“I want you to be more than just my friend with the occasional added benefit,” Virgil exhaled nervously, as he looked deeply into her eyes, “Penelope, I love you!”

“I love you too!”

“You do?”

Penny nodded. “Of course, I have for a long time… And I would love to be your ‘official’ girlfriend.”

“Good,” Virgil said, kissing her passionately.

They both remained wrapped in each other’s arms until Penny noticed Virgil was staring longingly at his piano. “Do you want to play?”

“I wish I could, but I can’t exactly use the pedals with two broken legs. Plus, I’ve only just started having light physio on my dislocated shoulder, so I’m not too sure how long I can use my right hand.”

“I can play with you.”

“You know how to play the piano?”

“Yes,” Penelope answered, “from ages 5 to 16, my father insisted! Although, I desperately wanted to learn to play the drums.”

“Drums?”

“Yes, what’s wrong with the drums?”

“Absolutely nothing!” Virgil answered. “Did you never get to learn?”

“No, my father said they were unladylike!”

“Unladylike?” Virgil exclaimed. “There’s been some awesome female drum players!”

“I know,” Penelope said, “that was my comeback… But father had spoken, so I made do with the piano. Secretly I loved it, but I pretended to detest every minute of course… So, do you want to play?”

Virgil nodded enthusiastically. “Where’s my wheelchair?”

“Just here,” she answered, pulling herself off the sofa and pushing the chair over which had been tucked away in a corner of the room. “Do you want me to fetch one of your brothers or your father, so they can help you into this?”

“That’s okay, if you inch it a little bit closer, then with your help I should be able to slide into it.”

“Are you sure?” Penny questioned. “I really wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself.”

“I’ll be fine,” he assured her.

“Okay,” she said, a hint of concern still in her voice, “but if I see any indication that you’re in any pain, then I’ll be getting Jeff.”

Virgil nodded his confirmation while Penny edged the wheelchair a little bit closer. Then with her support he easily slipped into the chair on the first attempt. “Well, that was easier that I thought it would be,” Penny observed, “however, if I find out you attempt to do that without any help, then you will not hear the end of it! Understood?”

“I wouldn’t dream of it!” Virgil smiled at her innocently.

“Mm… Well, make sure you don’t!” She warned, pushing him over to the piano. “So, what would you like to play?”

“I don’t mind,” Virgil replied, while she adjusted the piano chair so both herself and Virgil could reach the keys comfortably, “there’s some sheet music just over there.”

Penelope rifled through the variety of music books that were on the shelf that Virgil had pointed at, eventually she brought one over. “How about this to start with?”

“Ah, that’s perfectly easy,” he remarked, when she rested the page on Edward MacDowell’s, ‘To a Wild Rose,’

“Well, you may be a genius when it comes to playing the piano. However, it’s been a fair few years since I attempted to play, and this was one of the very first pieces I learned.”

“Then this is perfect,” Virgil commented, gazing fondly at her.

“Okay then, are you ready?” She asked.

Virgil kissed he once more. “I am now!”

Penelope relished his lips on hers and then smiled at him sweetly, as they both began to press the keys, allowing the melody to sing out. “Virgil Tracy, you are far too good to be playing with me,” Penelope observed, as she faltered a few times, while Virgil’s fingers glided effortlessly across the keys.

“Nonsense,” Virgil remarked, “you are doing wonderfully!” As the tune built to a crescendo, a cough interrupted them. “Oh, hi guys.” Virgil said, glancing up at the five faces standing in the doorway.

Jeff gazed at him sternly. “I would normally reprimand you for getting into your chair without any help.”

“But?” Virgil grinned.

“But,” Jeff added, moving over with his four sons to stand by the piano, “it’s too good hearing you play!”

“it feels great to be playing!” Virgil stated.

“How did you get in your chair?” Scott asked.

“Penelope helped me.”

“Penny, you managed to lift him?” Gordon giggled.

“Hey,” Virgil interrupted, “I’m not that heavy!”

“After all that cake and apple pie you shovelled down earlier,” John chuckled, “I’m not too sure!”

“Hey!” Virgil protested, “Why am I suddenly getting picked on?”

“Because, you are home,” Gordon informed him, “there’s no more special treatment for you now!”

Virgil pouted for a few seconds and then grinned. “Good, I wouldn’t want it any other way!”

“Great, because the jokes will be ‘wheeled’ out!”

Virgil shook his head at Gordon’s bad pun, and then looked at Alan, who was uncharacteristically quiet. “Everything alright little bro?”

Alan nodded. “Just wondering if you could play something?”

“Yes, of course. Anything in particular? Virgil enquired.

“Can you please play…” Alan hesitated.

Virgil smiled at him knowingly. “Do you want me to play moms song?”

“Yes please,” Alan answered enthusiastically, “if that’s okay with you?”

“Of course,” Virgil replied.

“Where’s the sheet music?” Penny asked.

“There isn’t any. Mom was always going to write it down but unfortunately, she never did. Thankfully, she taught it to me and now it’s all up here,” he informed her, pointing to his head, “I really should write it down though.”

“So, do you need any help?” She questioned.

“I should be alright using my right hand for this piece, I’ll use it to count towards my physio time,” he laughed.

“And what about the pedals?” She enquired.

“Yes please,” Virgil confirmed, “they won’t be needed to much, so I’ll let you know when,”

“Okay,” Penny smiled getting herself comfortable.

Virgil prepared himself, then paused as he looked at his family. “Are the rest of you okay if I play this?”

“Yes,” Scott, Gordon and John replied.”

“Dad?” Virgil enquired.

“I would love to hear it son!”

Virgil nodded, closed his eyes, and began to play.

They all exhaled slowly, as they watched Virgil’s fingers slowly caress the keys. Each one of them becoming transfixed by the melodious tune as they all thought back to just a few weeks prior when they had sat and wept together, each believing they would never hear this captivating, incandescent sound again. Now though as the notes continued to radiate from him, each one of them was brought back into the present. Here was Virgil, he wasn’t gone, he was here with them, and his musical soul was once more filling their home.

** **

Chapter 55. Return - An Epilogue.

It had been 1 year and 3 weeks since he’d sat here, a lot longer than he’d anticipated. Yes, the doctors had told him it would take a while to get back to full physical fitness, and he had achieved that, way before they had expected him to. However, it was the unseen injuries that had held him back, the ones the doctors hadn’t picked up on, but his family had spotted straight away.

The nightmares… Ones where he was still being held by the Hood, still chained, the camera set up in front recording everything as the whip was brought down onto his bare skin again and again. These, of course, had woken him with silent screams, occasionally vocalised, but a family members presence, and the realisation that it was just a dream quickly settled him, then sleep came once more. However, there was, of course, the flipped around nightmares, the ones where he’d be the one staring at a screen, watching a brother being tortured, and he’d be screaming out in pain, but every time there had been nothing he could do to save them. Gut-wrenching cries would fill their island home, awakening all the inhabitants, and would see him physically shaking for several hours in someone’s arms… Thankfully, agreeing to talk had helped and the dreams had eventually dissipated, however, an unexpected flashback when Gordon playfully dunked him in the pool (To when the Hood’s men had submerged his head and held him repeatedly under the water) had set off an anxiety attack, which had reawakened the nightmares, and he was once again back at square one… A vicious circle that happened on more than one occasion.

Eventually, with time, and many one-on-one sessions with various members of his family the mental healing eventually caught up with the physical, and that had in turn led to this point, him sitting here… 1 year and 3 weeks later, which was 386 days, an exact total of 9,264 hours… Not that he’d been counting…

A tap on his shoulder brought him out of his thoughts, “are you okay?”

A short breath out, he glanced back at Gordon, who was now buckling himself into the co-pilots seat. “Yes… Yes, I am!” Turning back to the control panel… His left hand, which now had a treasured silver wedding band on, reached forwards, he didn’t need to even think about what he was doing, even after all this time, he knew his girl like the back of his hand. She moved forwards, trees parting for her, allowing the sunlight to light her beautiful green paint… God, it really had been too long…

“So, are you going to do the honours?” his brother asked.

“You bet I am!”

Gordon settled back as the green machine raised herself, ready and waiting. “Then she’s just waiting for your final command.”

Pressing the final button, then holding the controls in his hands, Thunderbird 2 shot into the air…

Virgil felt the smile light up his face… “Thunderbirds Are Go!”

[mycroftrh]

Far worse, in my opinion, than the famous “he wouldn’t fucking say that” is “he WOULD fucking say that, as part of his facade, but you seem to think he would mean it genuinely”

[frankierotwinkdeath]

Y’all want Taylor Swift to be gay so bad but you won’t even write femslash about her

[noelledeltarune]

EVERY SINGLE DAY there are MILLIONS of characters in their late 20s who get falsely accused of being father figures to teenagers when in reality the description of "weird older cousin" or "step-sibling that moved out before you were born" is 1000000x more apt

[ao3-anonymous]

What in the fanfic hell is this?? 😂😂

[emberfaye]

You know what?

I love you, fics that take months to update. I click on the newest chapter and have no memory of this place and get to go back some chapters and rediscover how much i love everything about this story.

I love you, fics that take years to update. I think of you fondly, and know your names, go search for you and see an update from this year and scream, diving in uncaring of any missed details (i will finish the update and read you in reverse because this is a treat you have bestowed)

I love you, fics that probably will never update again. Thank you for being a roman empire for my mind, thank you for teaching me about the ephemeral fandom experience, for inspiring a thousand million what if-s, for being a comfort read and a nostalgia read and a reread.

I love you fic writers, who jump into projects and stories with enthusiasm. I love you when you succeed in pumping out those chapters and that love doesn't go away when you stop.

I love you fic writers who post and then get in your own head and never feel confident enough to update, whether it's at all or whether it's just that one story.

I love you fic writers, who have a fandom or media hurt you to the point of abandoning or having a hard time with their WIPs.

I love you fic writers, who lose interest or have life changes or illness or bad memory. Thank you for being part of the fandom, a core part of the fandom. Thank you for the time spent in the fandom.

I love you, fic writers who try out something new and then stop. You're so valid.

I love you, WIP fics that may or may not ever get finished. Thank you for brightening my day in the way only you could have.

[finleycannotdraw]

we need all types of art in fandoms

[gongyussy]

deepthroating a gun without breaking eye contact...... he put his entire gongyussy into that | SQUID GAME 2

+ the video because the sound he makes when he puts the gun in his mouth? [redacted]

update: he improvised that. the man really said i'll go full slut.

[eydilily]

break like an artist.

--

a collab between me and @slashmagpie for hermitadaymay's Solstice Social Collaborative Event! make sure to check out magpie's amazing fic for this too :D

(alternate ver under the cut)

[heathersgameoftag]

[cg29fics]

Gone

Issues with previous updates, so if you’re reading along you may want to check out the links for previous chapters. The complete fic is also available via FF.Net & A03 - CreativeGirl29

Tagging 🔖 Sorry if I’ve missed anyone - If you would like to be tagged in these updates then please let me know and I’ll add you to the list: @janetm74 @drileyf @katblu42 @psychoseal @weirdburketeer @alexthefly @misstb2 @thundergeek59 @burningcowboyhoagietaco @dragonoffantasyandreality

Previous. Chapter 44. Accused.

Chapter 45. Tracked.

Shortly after Penelope had planted the tracking device on Emily Sanderson she contacted Scott and informed him of the evidence that had been found, her suspicion that it was faked, and the action she had taken. Agreeing with her assumptions, Scott relayed what had happened, and asked her to return to the hospital. It was now 3pm, and as none of them had wanted Virgil to be on his own they had decided to all gather in his ward room. Thankfully though, just half an hour previously Virgil had fallen into a deep sleep. Due to a combination of the side-effects finally beginning to pass and the pure exhaustion he had been suffering from because of lack of sleep. Examining the ‘photographic evidence’ that the police had discovered on the Hood’s computer systems, John confirmed that it was indeed faked. However, even with John’s substantial educational knowledge coming into play, the police had dismissed their concerns about Sanderson being the real culprit, and had insisted they now had the correct woman in custody.

“I can’t believe that woman thinks she’s gotten away with this!” Scott growled, pacing back and forth. “And setting up Maria, I really don’t want her to go down for this… And then there’s her brothers, what’s going to happen to them?”

“The boys will be okay, I did some digging earlier, and they are currently being looked after by a neighbour,” John informed him, “and as for Maria, when Virgil remembers what’s happened they will let her go, and then arrest Sanderson.”

“What does he remember?” Penny inquired, gently stroking her hand over Virgil’s hair as he slept soundly.

“Not much,” Jeff responded, “he asked what had happened when he woke up. I initially told him he had a bad reaction to some drugs, and I said I would explain more later. He’s not asked since, he’s been too sick.”

“And what are the chances that he will remember?” Parker questioned.

“The nurse said he should, but to wait until the Rynax is out of his system before asking again,” Jeff replied.

“And what if Virgil doesn’t remember?” Gordon worriedly enquired.

Jeff sighed. “Then we will deal with that situation when it arises.”

“We can’t wait until then,” Scott cautioned, “she will try and do something, especially if she knows that Virg may remember it was her… She is a threat and will try and find some way to get to him without our knowledge.”

“But Scott, we will know if she tries to get close,” Alan stated, “thanks to Penny we are tracking her movements.”

“Sanderson is resourceful and clever! She won’t attack him directly, and will try and find some other way to hurt him, without getting close, so as not to seem like a suspect.” Scott paused, pondered what he was about to suggest, and then continued. “I really think that the only way we will stop her hurting Virgil again is to lure her in and catch her red-handed.”

Jeff shook his head. “There is no way that woman is coming anywhere near him!”

Scott sighed. “Dad, you know I would normally be the last person to suggest anything like this… But as I’ve said, that woman is clever, and she will try to kill Virg. We need to make her believe it’s safe for her to personally strike, and I really believe catching her in the act is the only way we can make the police believe us.”

“Do you all agree with this?” Jeff exhaled when everyone reluctantly nodded. “Mother?”

“Unfortunately, I do believe Scott’s right,” Ruth answered, “there’s no other way son!”

Jeff held his hands up in defeat. “Fine, but whatever the plan is, we need to make sure it’s full proof!”

… …

A few hours later:

Emily Sanderson walked into the hospital canteen. She hadn’t planned or wanted to come into the hospital so soon after being released, but she had been given no choice after Doctor Sylvia had called her into a quick meeting with himself and the board. In the end, she was glad that she had been granted some excuse for being there. Her father’s associate who had wiped the computers, and planted the evidence which had seen her released, had graciously hacked the hospital’s medical records for her. Upon reading Virgil’s files, she knew that although he hadn’t remembered what had happened, the chances that he would do so were highly likely, and because of that she would have to act quickly to make sure that he was disposed of.

Grabbing a coffee from the machine, Emily sat herself down in a nearby chair and contemplated the situation. Her preferred option had always been to make a personal strike against the victim. She knew she could knock out the security cameras, thanks to the technological help she had, and get herself the drugs needed to kill Virgil quickly, silently and without any trace ever being found in his system. However, she also knew that the Tracy family would be with him constantly and would probably not leave his side. So, another plan would have to be formed, one where she could make sure he died without going anywhere near him. As she continued to muse over her thoughts her attention was caught by Scott Tracy entering the canteen. ‘Perfect timing,’ she smiled, standing up and sauntering over to him.

Scott clasped his hands behind his back, and breathed out slowly, as he watched her confidently strolling towards him. Her being there had not been a surprise. It had in fact been fully intentional. Gerry Sylvia, had been happy to help, believing their assumptions that Sanderson was indeed the guilty party, and had begun the process of luring her into the trap they had eventually decided on, by inviting her to the hospital. Now she had arrived it was up to himself too set the second part of their plan in motion, and he knew it would take all his willpower to do so.

“Hello Scott,” Emily beamed at him.

Scott returned her smile. “Hi Emily, how are you?”

“I’m good, thank you for asking,” she responded, “especially now I’ve been released without any charges… I told you that I would prove my innocence!”

Scott dug his nails into the palm of his hands, desperately wanting to scream in her face at the blatant cockiness that was oozing from her. “Yes. Yes, you did,” he finally replied with a big smile.

“So, how’s your brother?” She questioned. “Last I heard he wasn’t doing too well.”

“He wasn’t, but thankfully his breathing’s improved and he’s back on the ward now,” Scott explained. “Although, the Rynax is still in his system and that’s given him some pretty nasty side-effects.”

“Oh, that’s such a shame!” She replied.

“Yes, it is,” Scott stated, biting his lip. “Although, it looks like the effects are starting to disperse, and he’s actually managed to go into a deep sleep. The doctors reckon that he will probably start remembering what happened once he wakes… Which will be great, because then the police can confirm that it was Andrews, we will know then that she will not be released, and will not find a way to hurt him again.”

“I bet that will be a relief,” Emily remarked, “you can all get some rest then.”

Scott nodded. “Thankfully, that will be happening tonight.”

“Tonight?” She queried.

“Yes,” Scott confirmed, “she’s definitely locked up tonight. Virg is sleeping, so we can’t really do much here, so for the first time in ages we will all be heading back to the hotel for some proper rest.”

“Oh, that is good news for you all,” Emily commented, before looking at her watch, “sorry to cut this short but I’ve got a meeting to get to. I’ll see you around soon.”

Scott breathed out, releasing the tension that had built up inside of him, as he watched her scurry out of the canteen. When she had finally gone, he made his way into a corner of the room, so no one could hear him, and lifted his watch to his mouth. “The trap is set, and Emily Sanderson as taken the bait.”

… …

Later that evening:

Everything was set. As Emily did not know about Penelope and Parker’s links to the Tracy Family or International Rescue, and she had only met them once outside the station, they had both planted themselves at two different exits, making sure they remained out of sight. So as not to arouse suspicion the others had all decided to leave the ward room at separate intervals. Upon leaving, they would make it look like they were heading out of the hospital, but would instead head to a nearby room that Gerry had provided for them. There they would play her at her own game, and would view her every movement through a live video feed from a hidden camera they had planted in the room.

“She’s nearby,” John finally informed them all, watching her trackers location on his tablet.

“Good,” Scott responded, “is everyone ready?” Gordon, Alan and John nodded. “Dad, are you ready?

“Yes, I suppose so,” Jeff frowned, “I’m just glad Virgil’s still asleep so he won’t ever know what’s happening here.”

“Grandma, what about you?” Scott questioned. “You don’t have to stay, and you can still head back to the hotel if you want to?”

Ruth shook her head. “No Scott, I’m staying put!”

Scott grinned at her and then focussed on them all. “Right then, time to get this plan into motion… John, Grandma, Alan… You three go now. Myself and Gordon will follow in five minutes, then dad you follow ten minutes later.”

… …

Emily Sanderson hid carefully, so as not to be seen, watching as the family made their way out of the ward. She couldn’t believe her luck when Scott had said that they would all be going back to the hotel that evening. Thankful, that she could put her ‘Plan A’ into motion. As expected her contact had been able to knock the hospitals security cameras out, plus she had also managed to get hold of some drugs which she knew would kill Virgil instantly. The Hood may have wanted him to suffer first, she however just wanted him to die as quickly as possible!

… …

The family all sat in the office room gazing at the live feed from the camera they had setup in Virgil’s room, while John focussed on his tablet which still displayed her trackers location.

Finally, half hour after Jeff had joined them, John broke the silence that had naturally engulfed them all. “She’s heading to the room now.”

They all breathed out as they watched the TV screen, each of them preparing to spring into action when the moment came.

… …

Emily Sanderson pushed the door open and quietly stepped inside. Observing Virgil, she took a step towards the bed, and paused as he quietly slept. Smiling to herself she made her way around the other side of the bed and placed the small bag that she was carrying down. Turning away from him, she began to open the bag, stopping when she heard a stir from behind her. Rotating back to face him, she smirked as he began to open his eyes.

… …

Watching the screen intently, Scott jumped out of his seat when he saw Virgil open his eyes. “Damn… He’s waking up. Get ready to go guys!”

… …

“Hello Virgil,” she smirked, “It’s been a while!”

Virgil’s eyes widened, causing Emily to release an ominous laugh. “Well it looks like you’re finally remembering what happened.” Virgil tried to grab at her injured hand, but she held his hand down and then shoved a gag from her bag in his mouth. “You’re not going to bite me again,” she sneered, pulling the drugs from her bag, “and no one’s coming for you, not this time… It’s just me and you!”

At that moment, the doors swung open. “Get away from him!” Scott ordered as he sped into the room.

Shocked by the unexpected interruption, Emily dropped the drugs, and fled, easily pushing past Scott who was too busy concentrating on his brother. John and Gordon who were close behind Scott watched as she bolted down the corridor in the opposite direction. Glancing quickly at his tablet, John confirmed to Gordon which way she was heading, so he could give chase, before calling through to the others. “She’s heading down the south wing.”

“FAB.” Several voices responded back.

… …

Scott flew to his brother’s aid and quickly removed the gag from his mouth. “It was her,” Virgil stuttered, shaking from the unexpected shock, “it was her… She was here… Before, with the Hood… She got away!”

Scott held Virgil’s hands in his. “Virg, it’s okay. We’ll get her, she’s not going anywhere. Virgil nodded, his whole body shaking. Scott pulled Virgil into his arms and held him securely. “It’s okay. No one will hurt you again!”

Continuing to shake, Virgil glanced up into his big brother’s eyes. “Scared!” He finally admitted, gripping tighter onto Scott.

“I know,” Scott soothed, as Virgil broke down and openly wept in his arms.

Jeff raced past John with his mother and turned into the ward room. Seeing the state of his middle son, Jeff tried to step towards him. “It’s okay son,” Ruth said, holding Jeff back, “he’ll be alright. Scott’s got him.”

… …

Gordon who was now joined by Alan, continued to pursue Emily as she raced down the south wing corridors. Turning onto another corridor both brothers stopped when they couldn’t see where she had gone.

“Which way did she go?” Alan asked John through his watch.

John let out a slight laugh. “Do you both see the stairwell up ahead?”

“Yes,” They both responded.

“She’s gone done the stairs, heading to exit 6.” John replied.

Gordon grinned. “FAB! We’ll head there now and help pick up the pieces.”

… …

Emily had been getting more and more aggravated when Gordon and Alan had kept managing to find her. Finally spotting the stairway which she knew would lead to the exit, she sped through it, pleased to see that she had lost her two pursuers. Continuing at a fast pace, and continually looking behind her, Emily did not spot the person standing in front of the door, and ran right into them falling to the ground. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled, before looking the person who she had raced into in the eyes. “Wait, I know you?”

“Yes, you do. We met earlier today.” Penny smiled, helping Emily to her feet, before gripping tightly on her injured hand. “You see, I knocked into you outside the police station, and I managed to plant a tracking device on you.”

“Ouch, you’re hurting me!” Emily cried out when Penny squeezed tighter on her injured hand.

“Oh, I’m hurting you?” Penny mocked. “Well, as you’ve hurt a very dear friend of mine, I felt it was the only right of me to hurt you back… To be honest though, I’m not getting any enjoyment from this.” Penelope released her hand. “But this, this I will enjoy.” She smirked, throwing a punch which knocked Emily Sanderson out cold.

Next: c46.

[everwalldigan]

I love the idea of all the robins kinda being clones of each other with just a few differences and a concussed Bruce not being able to tell who he’s squinting at so he just says generic statements and avoids saying any names

Bruce (sitting at the breakfast table): so… how’s the weather… dick?

Jason (grinning): you do know I’m gonna hold this against you for like, the next 2 months right

Bruce: (groans into his hands)

Bruce (walking into the living room): hey have you read through the files I gave you yesterday?

Dick: (confused cause he took a day off to surprise Bruce) ?

Bruce: so?

Dick: er… no?

Bruce: Dick?? What are you doing here?

Bruce (walks into the kitchen with a fresh concussion): Jason? I thought you were on a mission with the outlaws?

Tim: (frozen through mid fridge raid, having assumed they were past Bruce calling him Jason since yk. He’s a shit brickhouse now and Tim is, well, obviously not): uh?

Bruce: *turns around and leaves*

Bruce: Oh hey Cass, when did you arrive from Babs’?

Damian: (slowly turns around in the black hoodie he’s wearing) we’re not even the same gender

Bruce: (under his breath) yeah but the same height

[noodles-and-tea]

Just some more thoughts on that jayvik dbh au

[thundersoothers]

john price, his wife, and... the dog (derogatory)

who: John Price x wife!reader

what: inspired by this thought about john price being an absolutely softie for his wife. continued here!

word count: 2.4k

warnings: mentions of cheating but it’s NOT TRUE! you’ll see… just fluff that reallyyyyy makes me want to marry this man.

It’s 2AM on a Saturday in the summer when John Price thinks he hears his wife cheating on him. 

“Shhh!!  You have to be quiet, you’ll wake up my husband.” 

He opens his heavy eyes to see the TV paused at the end credits of some movie he can’t even remember the name of.  The screen reflects in the crystal of the empty rocks glass on the coffee table next to his feet, holding only a warm whiskey stone.  

He groans and stretches, his old t-shirt riding up to show a dark happy trail disappearing into low-waisted flannel pajama pants.  He has one sock on with a hole in the toe.  You told him to get rid of them and got him a pack of 20 of the same sock (he’s very particular about his socks), but he still wears these ones, anyway. 

“Stop moving, I’m trying to concentrate here.  Damn lock… can never— oh, shit.  Heh. Wrong key.” 

He can hear you muttering and giggling and the scratch of the key against the lock as you struggle to get it in. 

It’s your girls’ night and he likes to wait up for you to make sure you get in safely.  He saw you off around 8PM, pouring himself a glass of whiskey as you took a shot of tequila.  You planted a big kiss on his cheek, leaving a red lipstick mark that he didn’t bother to fully wipe off. 

“Sorry, I know you’re eager to get inside.  I bet you’re so cold, all naked.  Here, you can go in my dress, is that better?  Fu—ow!  Don’t bite my tit, Jesus!  Sharp teeth…” 

Price suddenly feels much more awake.  He pushes himself up from the couch and starts to walk to the foyer. 

“This damn door… ah!  There we go.” 

The door creaks open and he hears you tiptoe inside in your heels (wearing heels and tiptoeing—are two actions that are mutually exclusive, especially when you’re plastered). 

“Remember, we have to be quiet.  My husband waits for me to get home, we don’t want to wake him up.  He’s very nice, you see, but he can’t know you’re here.” 

Apparently, you have gotten home safely—with an extra guest who just bit at your tit.  And you’re being louder than your guest, who you keep telling to be quiet. 

“My husband is gonna be soooo mad.  He’s gonna be so mad at me, but once he sees how cute you are, I think he’ll forgive me.  He’ll understand.  I had to.  I just had to!” 

He hears rustling as he gets closer to the foyer, you fumbling around in the dark. 

“Stay there, don’t move, okay?  Stay, yeah?  You know that, don’t you?  Mummy will teach you if not.  Just stay right there.  Lemme get these damn heels off…” 

There’s an odd sound of something quickly clicking on hardwood floor that makes his eyebrows furrow, and then you gasp—

“Wait, don’t run—“ 

Bang! 

You groan loudly. 

Price flicks on the lights.

You’re lying face down on the rug.  You have one heel on.  The second heel is twisted around your other foot—what you fell over.  Your little dress is flipped up over your ass and your arms are outstretched. 

“You okay there, love?” John asks, torn between amusement and concern. You just groan.  “Sounded like you fell pretty hard.” 

“I tripped,” you say into the rug, sounding very sad. 

“You hurt?” he asks.  “Anything broken?”

You shake your head and curl up a little.  “I’ll just sleep here.” 

He laughs softly.  “Come on, none of that.” 

“It’s so comfortable.  I’ll just—“ 

There’s that clicking sound again and he’s almost startled by the abruptness of your movement.  You push yourself up with one arm, stretch the other out and fucking snatch the quick-moving little brown blob that’s moving toward you.  You pull it to your chest and cradle it, shielding it from John’s view. 

He blinks. “What you got there, love?” he asks after a second. 

“Nothing,” you say innocently. 

“Right.”  He crosses his arms, looking you over.  “Who were you talking to just now?” 

“No one,” you say quickly.  “Myself.” 

“Right,” John says again slowly. “Show me what you have.” 

You look over your shoulder up at him through your lashes, vision blurry.  “No.  You’re gonna be mad.” 

“Just show me.” 

“Promise you won’t be mad.” 

He sighs.  “I won’t be mad.”  You give him a look.  He sighs again.  You’re wasted—he can tell by your eyes. They’re unfocused and heavy.  “Promise.  Now show me.” 

You look down at whatever you’re holding to your chest.  “Okay,” you whisper (to your tits?), “you need to be very well-behaved, okay?  No biting, please.  Be very nice for Daddy so he will like you, okay?  Can you do that?  Yes?  Okay.” 

You glance up at John again over your shoulder and then turn yourself around in a very clumsy movement.  Then, as if presenting whatever it is like you’re Mufasa from the Lion King, you lift it up in the air toward your husband. 

It’s a puppy. 

It’s quiet. 

The little dog wriggles in your hands, wagging his tail so hard his whole body shakes.  He barks up at John, high pitched.  A small pink tongue lolls out of his mouth. 

It’s still quiet. 

You lower the dog a little so you can look up at John.  “You said you wouldn’t be mad!” 

“I’m not mad,” John says, sounding mad. 

“You look mad.” 

“I’m not mad,” he says again.  “It’s just… dirty.” 

You gasp.  “He’s not dirty!” you exclaim, sounding offended on behalf of the dog.  You pull him to your chest.  “He’s just a little mangey, you see.  But that’s okay.  It can be fixed.  You know—they have medicine for that.  Or lotion, or whatever it is.  He’s very nice, John, I swear.  I know he’s a little… skrunkly but he’s very cute and—ow!  That’s my hair, no biting Mummy, please.” 

“You’re already calling yourself his Mummy?” he asks, bemused, eyebrow raised at you.  Yep.  You’re fucking wasted. 

“Yes, and you’re his Daddy.”  You hold the dog up again, this time facing him toward you.  “I think you’re very cute, puppy. You’ll grow on Daddy.  Just be very good for him, you can do that, can’t you?  Yes, you can.”  You whisper, as if John isn’t standing right there, “We’ll wear him down. Don’t worry.”

“I thought it was something else,” Price says. 

“What did you think it was?” you ask, not looking away from the dog.

“Where did you find it?” he asks instead of answering. 

This is much better than what his traitorous mind momentarily supplied.  You, cheating? As if.

How silly of him to even think that. For a moment, his stomach twists with the guilt of doubting you. He should have known better. 

Of course it’s this.  What else could it have been?

A puppy. 

A puppy! 

“Oh, hello, there.” 

You crouch down in your dress and heels and hold out your hand to the little puppy emerging from the bushes by the side of the road. 

“What are you doing here, all alone?  Come here, love, I won’t hurt you.  Come on, puppy, come to me.  Yeahhh, there we go.  Oh, look at you.  You’re so cute.  You’re all mangey, though.  Oh,” you say pitifully, “you little baby.” 

You’re drunk as fuck at 2AM on a Saturday in the summer, halfway through your walk home from the bar, squatting in the middle of a back road in England, about to cry while petting this puppy clumsily—but he doesn’t seem to mind.  He wags his tail and nips at your fingers. 

“Where’s your Mummy?  You shouldn’t be out here all alone.  No collar… oh, goodness, what should I do with you?  I don’t want to leave you.  I’m not sure what to do.” 

He barks at you, high pitched. 

You nod at him seriously.  “Oh, yes, good point.”  He barks again.  “Mhm.  Yes, yes.  I thought so, too.  Exactly right.” 

He runs in a circle around you. 

“What are you, a month?  You should be with your Mum, you shouldn’t be all alone.  Oh, you little baby, you must be so scared.”  (He’s wagging his tail.) 

“It’s so cold.”  (It’s summer.) 

“Maybe you can come home with me?”  (Your husband would be so mad.) 

“Yes,” you decide.  “You’ll come home with me.”  (Your husband is going to be so mad.) 

That’s how you end up stumbling home with a puppy in your arms, rambling to him about yourself and your life. 

“Well, puppy, my name is Mrs. Price.  I’m from around here.  I live in a nice three bedroom house with my husband, I think you’ll like it very much.  It’s very cute. He let me decorate it. He doesn’t understand feng shui, you see. You should see his office, puppy, it’s so bland. No taste for interior design.”

“Our house is only 10 more minutes away.  See that big tree there?  That means we only have 10 minutes left until we’re home.  I’m not great with street names, you see, so I go by landmarks.”  He barks.  “Yes, yes, you get it.” 

“Anyway.  So, I’m—stop wiggling please, Mummy’s going to drop you—I’m married to a very nice man named John.  I love him very much.  You’ll like him, too,” you tell him seriously, “he’s very likable.  I like lots of things about him, puppy.  Actually, I like everything about him.” 

“He says I can’t have a dog, though.  He says it’s for my own good—booooo. Boo! But maybe we can sneak you in.  What do you think, puppy?  Should we do that?  I think we should do that.  We’ll have to be very quiet, though.  Very quiet.” 

“John waits for me to get home safely—he’s so nice, he’s so kind to me, I love him sooooo much—but we have to make sure not to wake him up. This is one of them—uh, covert operations. He’s very well-versed in those. My husband is very talented, puppy, he’s a Captain. So we’ll have to be extra careful.”

And that’s how you end up trying to sneak into your own house and then trip over your shoe and fucking slam! your face on the rug. 

“Where did you find it?” John asks you as you sit on the floor after you presented the dog to him.

“On the way home from the bar, kind of my that big tree.” 

“By Notting Street?” 

You furrow your eyebrows.  “Notting Str—I dunno.  Maybe?  I just know the big tree.  The one with all the branches.” 

“‘The one with all the branches,’” he repeats, nodding slowly.  “Right.” 

“But he was there all alone so I took him home.  I couldn’t leave him, John, he’s so little.  And he’s very cute, look at his little ears?  And his little feet?  His toes are soooo small.  His little teeth are sharp, though—like a shark.  Fuckin’ hurt, he almost bit my tit off.” 

“Yeah, I heard.” 

“You heard?  Oh.  I was trying to be quiet.  I didn’t want to wake you up.” 

He smiles at you.  “I know.” 

You smile back. 

“Give me the dog.” 

You frown.  “No.” 

“The dog, please.” 

“No.”  You hold him tighter.  “You’ll take him from me.” 

“Well,” he says, “yes.” 

You sigh heavily.  “Be gentle.”  You hand him to John and he takes him in one hand and holds him out, frowning, as if it’s offended him. 

A puppy. 

“Can we keep him?” you ask hopefully. 

He glances at you and then back to the puppy and then back to you and then back to the puppy.  “No.” 

“Please?” 

“No.” 

“But…”  You trail off and he looks back down at you.  You’re starting to tear up. 

“Oh—love, don’t cry.” 

“He’s so little and soft and nice and he’s all mangey and he’s all alone and he’s just a little baby and…” 

“Okay, okay, darling, we can keep him.” 

(By that, he means you’ll talk about it tomorrow when you’re sober, and by ‘talk about it’, he means, ‘no.’) 

“Really?!” you gasp.  

The way your face fucking lights up makes John pause.  For a second, he almost feels like he lost his balance.

“Oh, John, really?  Oh, thank you so much!  Puppy, did you hear that?  Daddy said yes!  See, he’s very nice, just like I told you, remember?  He’s very nice and kind and he’s very handsome and I love him very much, and I—“ 

“The dog can’t understand you.” 

“You don’t know that,” you say defensively.

He looks down at you. “Right.”

You stare up at him, standing over you as you sit on the floor.  “How are you handsome even from this angle?”  You frown deeper.  “Stupid face,” you mutter. 

“What was that?” 

“Nothing.” 

“Let’s get you up.” 

“I’m so comfortable.” 

“Hand.”  He tucks the dog under his arm and extends his other hand toward you.  He crooks his long, thick fingers at you.  “Now.” 

You look between his hand and his face, and then slip your hand into his. 

“Good girl.”

He fucking yanks you up and, in one movement that’s somehow graceful, bends down and throws you over his shoulder. 

He, naturally, slaps your ass and you squeal.  “Hey!!” 

You kick your feet (still with only one heel on) and he laughs, resting his hand on your hip, heavy fingers digging into the plush of your butt, as he makes his way up the stairs with you on his shoulder and the dog in his hand. 

Gently, he drops you onto the bed and you fall back with an oof! and stare up at him. 

“Well,” Price drawls, “aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” 

You grin.  “I missed you.” 

“I missed you, too.”  He takes off your shoe (singular), your dress, and your makeup as you hold the dog, curled up, on your chest. 

“You’re so good to me, John,” you say, your eyes closed.  “I’m so lucky.  I don’t know how I got so lucky.  And, you, puppy,” you mumble, petting him slowly, “you’re so lucky, too.  You’re about to have the best Daddy in the world.  He’s so good to us.” 

“‘Puppy’ is asleep,” John says.  “And,” he adds, scooping him up in one hand, “puppy is not sleeping in the bed.” 

You just groan, too tired and drunk to argue. 

He holds the dog out in the air again, turning him around and upside down to examine him.  He yips and wriggles in his hands, but John shushes him.  “Hush now.  Your Mummy is asleep.”  He shakes his head and sighs.  “What am I going to do with you?” 

He takes the dog to the bathroom and puts him down on the floor. His paws slip a little on the cold tile. John puts his hands on his hips, staring down at the dog.  “I can’t believe this.”

He reaches over to turn on the heated floor (which he got installed for you) and says to the dog, “You are so, so damn lucky I love your Mummy.” 

In the morning, despite John Price’s best efforts to say no to you, you end up convincing him to keep the dog. He’s a military Captain but the pleading of his wife is enough to make him crumble.

The happiness on your face when he finally says yes, makes him wonder why he ever said no in the first place.

note: thank you for reading! this is my first time posting in years–and in a totally new fandom. thank you for your patience and your support. let me know your thoughts! merry christmas!

posted 12.26.2024. revised 01.02.2025.

do not repost or modify any of my original words on any other platform.

to masterlist.