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mggpleasedontlookhere · 4 years ago

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it should’ve been you pt. 2

summary: after getting suspended after the incident on the jet, y/n has a hard time dealing with the aftermath of the situation, only then she realizes that her and spencer are one and the same

word count: 3,825 reading time aprox: 14 mins

masterlist

part 1

3 months.

It has been 3 months since Spencer had been charged with suspension in participating in any cases. In regards to the reprimands brought upon me by Hotch, I had received a mere 1 month of suspension for my violent act on the jet.

Truth be told, the 1 month was worth it

The words that ardently escaped Spencer’s lips that day sat perpetually ingrained on my mind, next to the lingering memory of his belligerent eyes. Despite my indignation of Spencer’s behavior, his words added to the ever growing grief of Ryler’s death, self reproach fueling my mind.

But at the end of the day, some of the blame could be brought on Spencer. He should’ve spoke up sooner if he had clue that I wasn’t efficient in the field. He should’ve done something to prevent Ryler’s death.

Right?

I had just gotten back from my suspension, completing the final reports of a case and handling the tedious paper work that nobody wanted to deal with. I wasn’t permitted to investigate any cases with the team yet considering that I was still under surveillance. But I kept my distance from them, especially Hotch, knowing his attention would linger on me slightly longer than the other agents.

I sighed, finishing up the latter of reports and standing up to submit the files to Hotch. As I ventured through the lively commotion of agents and supervisors, I spotted the team near the kitchenette of the bullpen. They were all in a fit of laughter, a sight that was infrequent with the career we possessed. A bubbling sensation burned in my stomach as I watched their faces contort in bliss. I clenched my fingers around the reports, creating small indents on the corners of the files, while a grimace replaced the once nonchalant expression I displayed. I shook my head in disapproval, then trudged off to get my task over with.

They should be working, not fucking around. If only I were there, maybe things would get done faster

Barging into Hotch’s office, I discarded the work at the front of his desk, muttering a small sentence that indicated I was finished. I didn’t dare to entertain his unrelenting scrutiny, knowing well that he was already halfway into profiling my demeanor. “If that’s all, I can go back to my desk...” I said, the tone of my voice monotonous and lifeless. “Sir” I nodded, using his silent response as a signal to leave.

“Agent Y/L/N” He interrupted, setting the paper work I finished aside along with other files that camouflaged the surface of his oak desk. “Take a seat please” He suggested, gesturing to the two office chairs that faced him. I complied still not meeting his gaze, settling down in front of him, as I fiddled with the threads at the ends of my blazer.

“Y/L/N” He repeated, only this time I looked straight into his eyes. “We’re happy to have you back in our unit” He began, a sense of sternness in his voice, similar to one a parent would use to scold their child. “I hope you took this opportunity as a break away from all the chaos we deal with” He lightheartedly joked, an amiable smile apparent of his face.

Despite his change in demeanor, my feelings of resentment coexisted beside his expressions of colloquialism. “Me, taking a break from work or was it so the team can take a break from me and Dr. Reid?” I challenged, folding my hands on my lap.

“Y/L/N” He disrupted lifting an apprehensive hand. “I’m aware of the tension between you and Reid ever since what happened back in New York, so I made the decision to give you and him the opportunity to-” He justified.

“No sir, with all due respect, your agents are out there laughing their asses off instead of working. Yet I’m the one who’s being put under scrutiny for being human?” I asserted, standing up from where I sat. “Yes I made a mistake. But for months Reid has done nothing but bludgeon everything I work for in the bureau and none of you have ever done anything about it” I scoffed as I paced in front of his desk.

“Y/L/N I’d have you know that me and the team have had numerous conversations with Reid about what hap-”

“YES THAT’S MY POINT!” I exclaimed, raising my voice slightly, although that didn’t last long due to the cautious stare I received from Hotch. “You’ve always checked up on Reid, but what about me?” I spit, narrowing my eyes at Hotch, noticing the discernible silence I received as a response. “Aren’t I part of this team? Because frankly ever since that case in Manhattan it seems like everyone can’t decide whether to blame me or pity me” I admitted, looking over to the window where I had a clear view of the people of my unit.

“Y/L/N please take a seat” He commanded, but I declined standing my ground. He sighed, tucking in his blazer as he stared at me in disbelief. “Y/L/N I’m sorry if you’ve ever felt like that but you’re on this team as much as Reid is” He claimed, an empathetic tone surrounding each word that emitted from his lips. “You’ve made a mistake and yes, it’s affected a majority of the team, but take this opportunity to grow from that mistake” He consoled, his eyes softening back into a lamentable gaze. “Use this to be a better agent” He stood up, walking over to where I was positioned and placed an affable palm to my shoulder.

Vulnerability is often used as a bridge between the connection of others. It’s used to initiate an understanding bond, to break people down to their foundations, and to help one to recognize that people aren’t alone when it comes to implications in life. Although vulnerability wasn’t the theme of mine and Hotch’s interaction.

It was pity

“Is that what you think will make me feel better? T-to make me feel accepted into this team?” I ridiculed, snatching my shoulder away from his overbearing touch. Incredulity seemed to fuel the words leaving my mouth as my glare advertised bitterness. “Do you think I’m that incompetent? That a few appraising and heartfelt words are going to make me fall in line?” I challenged.

“Y/N, please don’t make this diff-”

“DON’T ‘Y/N’ ME, HOTCH” I warned, knowing I set off an alarm inside of him as he backed off in reluctance. I knew I had attracted a few curious ears from outside of the office, but I was too blinded by my oncoming emotions to act with clarity and reason.

“YOU K-KNEW” I stuttered, my hands beginning to tremble at my sides as I wiped the sweat accumulating on them. “You knew that I wasn’t r-ready. I WASN’T READY!”.

My mind had accelerated to a thousand miles per hour, I felt numb at every word I had verbalized as if my cerebrum had malfunctioned. I hadn’t even noticed the tears that had dampened the apples of my cheeks. “Y-you knew I-i wasn’t ready, a-and you...let me go in” I sucked in a staggered breath, feeling my esophagus cinch up at the sudden inhale. “You k-killed him” I whispered through my gritted teeth, feeling all loss of competence. At this point my hormones were driving my actions, “You KILLED him” I accused, flailing my hands at his direction.

“Y/L/N go home, you’re not stable enough to be back here yet” He stated monotonously, striding back to his chair in a collected manner.

“What?” I spewed.

“Y/L/N it’s obvious that you need more time. I’m giving you a 2-weeks-leave, and I suggest you take it” He replied, taking a moment to look up at me. “I can assign you the bureau’s therapist, Dr. Montgomery, if you would like”

“N-no Hotch, are you kidding me?” I scoffed in defiance.

“Y/L/N I will have you escorted out of the building if you don’t follow my direct orders, understood?” He threatened, peering into my eyes. “Now go home” He sighed, looking over some files without giving me a second glance.

I huffed in disbelief, pulling open his office door to make an exit, ready to dash out of the room, until his words broke my stride. “Oh and Y/L/N” He spoke up, making me spin around to look at him one last time.

“While you’re on that break...learn to forgive yourself too”

From the time that phrase came out of his mouth to where I stood now seemed like a blur. The autumn drizzle trickled from my forehead to the base of my chin as the sky darkened; an omen to the place where my feet had lead me.

Spencer’s apartment

Stepping a foot into the complex, the coldness of the water droplets on my skin masked the fear that hid behind the many layers of antipathy, turbulence, and helplessness.

I felt paralyzed, contrary to my feet that continued to venture through the halls to find Spencer’s residence, my unconscious mind remembering the very dinner party the team organized months ago to celebrate the new addition to the BAU: me.

My range of emotions had thrown me into a downward spiral, feeling everything then feeling nothing simultaneously. It was as if I was drowning then pulled up to be given air, only to repeat the process continuously. I knew to blame myself, but I couldn’t help but bear to place the accountability to the members of my team because the weight was too heavy for me to hoist.

I am selfish, I am weak, and I hate every part of that.

My anger became the device to alienate myself from others. My loss of control lead my impulsivity to fester and lash out on the ones who only wanted to help. Finally, my ignorance costed me my impartial and sensible mind. It allowed me to turn a blind eye to any impurities that didn’t corroborate with my narrative.

I twisted the facts to match the theories, rather than twist the theories to the facts.

At the foundation of it all, the matter derived from my inability to conquer my grief in a sufficient approach. Although at that affair, I remained alone...almost. The only other creature who had endured more than they can handle was Spencer.

Despite out disagreements, we held one thing in common: the event that defined our declarations of hate towards one another.

So here I have my feet planted complementary to his front door, my arms glued to my side, and my head hanging low as I raised a skeptical fist to knock.

With the first attempt to gather his attention, the was no response except the buzzing of the radiators that hummed throughout the building’s halls. With another set of knocks, scuffling feet could be heard coming closer to the entrance and every thud against the floor, elevated my heart rate. When the door had flung open, it wasn’t Spencer that I had witnessed.

It was a ghost of him.

At least that’s what it had looked like to me. Spencer sported his head of hair like a bird’s nest, his clothes looked besmirched, his silhouette appeared scraggy, but most of all his face looked inert and lacked pigment.

In spite of my initial impression, his emotion ridden expression gained it’s flare back at the acknowledgment of my appearance. He was about to turn away, pushing the door closed when I stuck a foot in the crevice of the door frame, causing me to wince in agony.

This caused Spencer to return his focus onto me, fixating at my foot that obstructed the door. “If you think that hurts, try getting stabbed” He mentioned maliciously, referring to the death of his comrade. I ignored his snarky comment, pushing the door ajar to face him. “What do you want Y/L/N?” He deadpanned, holding an emphatic countenance.

I composed myself, sighing as I explained that I wanted the opportunity to discuss the latter with him, and to my surprise he obliged, diffident to let me enter.

I took in the unveiling of his home. The walls were lined with bookshelves that contained a copious assortment of books that ranged from education to recreational. Renaissance art was found in between some of the shelving units, but the one thing that caught my attention were the various frames that surrounded Spencer’s childhood pictures. Although, the majority of the portraits were only of him and his mother; his father only making a debut in earlier pictures.

“I thought you were here to talk, not profile where I live” Spencer commented, interrupting the inquisitive observations I’ve made of his place. I mumbled a quaint apology, finding myself a chair to sit on as Spencer did the same.

Apprehension preoccupied the silence that followed after we took our seats. I fiddled with my hands, running over my lines and organizing my thoughts as I thought twice about my presentation.

“It wasn’t my fault”

“What?” Spencer spoke, tilting his head at me in bewilderment.

“It wasn’t my fault that Ryler died...It was my choice” I began, pushing the loose hairs behind my ears as I sat up straight. “I made that choice to follow through and go in, knowing I was going against Hotch’s warnings and that-” I paused, gazing into his emotionless stare.

“Killed Ryler” Spencer deadpanned, continuing off where I couldn’t finish. I nodded in compliance, the same feeling of dread creeping up my stomach, similar to how I felt on the crime scene.

“There’s no amount of ‘sorrys’ I can say that will ever fill that void that’s in-bedded in the team...but at the same time, th-there’s nothing I can do to bring him back, Reid” I declared.

He wore a tight-lipped grimace, staring at the wall behind me coldly. “Yeah, there’s nothing you can do to bring him back” He scoffed. “You’re wasting your time being here” He professed, shaking his head with hostility.

I pinched the bridge of my nose as I bent over to place my head on my hands, feeling the overbearing sensation of frustration bubble over the sentiment. “Yes I know Reid” I disclosed, animosity slowing slipping into the enunciation of my words. “I just- I don’t always want to be in quarrel with you whenever we’re at work” I confessed. “I just need you to-”

“To what?” Spencer cut me off mid sentence. “To forgive you?” He jeered, narrowing his eyes at me in vengeful amazement.

“Spencer-”

“You want me to FORGIVE you?” He stood up from his seat, walking over one of the bookshelves adjacent to the window. The faint sunset beamed an orange tinted glare through the drizzle and into the living room, giving pigment to Spencer’s skin as his back faced me. “Am I just supposed to forget about him like everyone has already, am I supposed to pretend that everything’s back to normal without him?” He questioned, running his finger along the spines of a select novels.

“I’m not telling you to forget Ryler, and it’s not like the team doesn’t honor-” I began, but was cut off abruptly by Spencer’s spiteful words.

“Are you fucking kidding me Y/N?!” He exclaimed, turning around to glare at me. “For the past couple of months, no one- and I mean NO ONE has mentioned Ryler. I-it’s as if NOBODY CARES” He shook his head in frustration, running his hand through his curls.

“That-s not tru-”

“THAT’S NOT TRUE!” He blurted out, an incredulous expression planted on his face. “Name one person, aside from me that had thought about Ryler in the past month” He challenged, making determined strides towards where I sat.

Veins began protruding on his forehead as he came closer, the wrinkles on his forehead became indistinguishable, despite the sun masking his face in an angelic light. “I- um” I gulped, unable to recall any mentions of the agent.

“Exactly” Spencer deadpanned, walking back over to the shelves.

“But that doesn’t give you an excuse to berate me” I uttered quietly, feigning a collected composure where the confidence lacked. I pushed myself up from my seat, promenading up to where he stood. “You can’t assume the future of my career based on a mistake I made” I stood parallel to his back, reaching a hand up to place on his shoulder, but proceeded to hesitate, leaving them at my sides. “You don’t have to forgive me Reid, but at least forgive yourself” I spoke, reiterating the same words Hotch passed onto me before leaving the office.

I saw his shoulders lose tension as he sucked in a breath, his fingers unraveled from his balled fists while he hung his head low. On the cue of his sedated composure, I placed a decided grasp on his shoulder in attempt to soothe the rigid atmosphere.

Unbeknownst to my perception of the situation, Spencer suddenly grabbed a hold of my wrist, flipping me over to where my back hit the bookshelves with immense force, sending a painful chill down my spine. I winced as the rivets of the metal screws scratched the soft skin of my lower back. Although this didn’t prevent Spencer from further pinning my body into the shelves while his firm fingers dug into my wrists. “What makes you think you can tell me what to do or what to feel” He whispered darkly, a menacing grimace taking it’s form on his mouth.

I resisted against his grip, but his strength proceeded to show itself through my inability to overpower him. Fueled with frustration, I bore at him with a vindictive sneer. “Reid, fucking let me go” I muttered through gritted teeth. “I swear to fucking god Reid, let me the FUCK GO!” I challenged, pushing harder against his tall frame.

He responded to my catty reactions with an arrogant smirk. “Look at you writhing under me” He patronized, his face shadowing over mine as his breath fanned over my own. “You’re a weak bitch Y/N” He continued, his eyes lingering on my bottom lip. “You’re an even worse agent” He inched closer at an achingly sluggish pace. I felt my lips twitch in anticipation as his mouth hovered over my own.

So, I took the opportunity to spit at him.

He stumbled back in surprise, wiping my saliva that landed inches away from the bridge of his nose. “What the fu-” He spewed, looking at me incredulously. But I took no hesitation to make determined strides at him.

“You have no right to call me a bad agent. You have no right to call me weak” I heaved, shoving him at his shoulders. “Especially when you can’t even face your own feelings” I verbalized, glaring at him. “You’re a coward” I muttered, glaring up at him as we were chest to chest.

Both of us stood in our own heated ambiance, the silence amplifying the intensity of the circumstances. I could feel the sweat dripping off of my forehead as I witnessed a crack in his arrogant countenance. His hard features relaxed into a woeful expression as the fight of reason in his mind intensified. But I didn’t have the time to wait on his judgement. So with a novel sanguine air, I began marching right up to his front door with the persistence to leave all the negative energy behind me.

That was until he spoke up

“Y/N I-”

I shook my head, resting my hand on his doorknob. “No Spencer, you listen” I turned around to face him, leaning my back on the oak surface of the door. “You don’t get to defame my career, I’ve worked too hard for this and out of all the people in the world, I thought you’d understand” I stated, pushing myself up the door so I was no longer leaning on it.

“Y/N-”

“I made a mistake, but that mistake’s going to make me a better agent. I can’t take back his death and I can’t make it up to you, but all I can do is make his death count” I persisted, my legs venturing back to where we stood prior to my attempted exit. He stared back at me with an afflicted gaze that hid behind a feigned emotionless expression. “I’ve spent months blaming myself for his death...” I positioned myself across from him, reciprocating a compassionate expression that contrasted from his own visage. “And I think you do the same too” I remarked, taking my bottom lip between my teeth as I expressed my concerns.

For the first time, Spencer didn’t know what to say. Not statistical fact or analytical approach would resolve the woman that stood confidently before him.

“You’re right” He admitted, sighing as he combed the back of his head. His eyes flickered to the prominent features of my face, then back to the apparently interesting view of the floor. He shut his eyes in defeat, dragging both of his hands over his face as if it was to bring clarity and closure swiftly to him. “I-i didn’t how to...th-then everyone started forgetting- and I couldn’t” He desperately was at a loss of words. “I’m sorry Y/N” He repented, laying a hesitant yet tender hand on the side of my arm.

“As much as I appreciate you apologizing to me Spencer-” I laid my hand over his own, clutching onto it in a solacing grasp. “You seriously need to figure yourself out first” I sighed, using my fingers to tilt his chin up to disrupt his forlorn expression. “You need to learn how to forgive yourself Spencer, and I’m not the one to say because I’m still figuring that out myself, but that’s the only way you’re ever going truly move forward”

He cringed at my mention of the future. I noticed the cogs running in that brain of his, unable to process his grief. I could tell he was still holding onto a lot of baggage, the pained look he wore revealing it all. “I shouldn’t have told you that it should’ve been you back there” He apologized, referring to the whole conflict that unfolded on the jet. “I don’t know how to do it Y/N” He confessed. “I c-can’t just move on like that”

“Nobody’s asking you to Spencer” I consoled. “We can never really be able to move on completely. But that’s a part of living, it’s remembering that gives our life meaning”

“Well actually, traumatic occurrences can actually be repressed by the unconscious mind in order to dissociate th-” He rambled, a faint smile tugging on the corners of his lips.

“Don’t ruin the sentiment Reid” I laughed, nudging him playfully. He reciprocated the same gesture, reverting back to a more relaxed visage.

“Thank you...Y/N” He spoke passionately, pulling me into an amicable embrace. I breathed into his shoulder, taking in the seldom occasion as all the hatred that existed in the room previously, dissipated.

“You’re always welcome...Spence”

A/N:

that’s a wrap, im actually really proud of this so i hope you all enjoy it. tell me whatcha think about it after :)

i honestly was struggling with how to end the whole thing, so i compromised on an angsty-fluff/platonic but not really ending, if that at all makes sense lmao, anyways have an amazing day

taglist: @a-dorky-book-keeper @ilovespencereid @fancystarlightpirate @aperrywilliams @liaabsurd @thatsonezesty13 @ashwarren32 @ithinkilovetruecrimetoomuch @yoongi-holland @guessthatswhyiliveinhell @peterspickledpepper @tiktokslut @britishspidey @marciscaspar @ tteessaa13 @marylanddgirly @todaynotseen

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stillbandofbrothersthirsty · 3 years ago

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As Far As Friends Go

Chapter 16 (Chapter 1; Chapter 2; Chapter 3; Chapter 4; Chapter 5; Chapter 6; Chapter 7; Chapter 8; Chapter 9; Chapter 10; Chapter 11; Chapter 12; Chapter 13; Chapter 14; Chapter 15)

Nixon - July - September 1944 All thought left Nixon’s mind as he stared down into Emily’s red-rimmed gray eyes. He wanted to say more, but the words were stuck in his throat. Who the hell was he to tell her anything? He was married. He was a bad husband, a selfish lover, a drunk - he had no business giving her advice.

“Just trust me,” he whispered. Emily’s frown deepened as she searched his face. But Nixon would reveal nothing. The only thing he was certain about in that moment was that he didn’t want to see Emily get hurt; not by Harry, not by him, not by anyone. “Emily, I’m sorry I accused you of not taking your job seriously. You are one of the best people on my staff.”  “Really?” Emily’s voice was meek.  “If not the best. You’re invaluable. I’m sorry that I haven’t given you the acknowledgment you deserve. I’m sorry you don’t get the respect you deserve.” Emily swallowed. Nixon’s heart broke into a thousand pieces when her chin quivered. “I’m sorry I got so emotional,” she said in a hushed voice. “Don’t apologize.” Nixon wanted to move forward to touch her, to hold her, but something in him wouldn’t allow it. She probably didn’t want that from him anyway. His words could only heal so much in a night.  “Please,” something caught in Nixon’s throat, “please just don’t say anything to Harry. I don’t want to see you get heartbroken.” Emily bit her lip. It took all of his patience to remain quiet as he waited for her to respond. She roamed his face with her eyes. It was as if she was looking right through him, right into the very core of him. Nixon’s stomach jumped at her shameless gaze. “Fine,” she finally said. Fine, he would have to accept that. Inside, he begged her to say more. He begged her to stay standing there so he could just look at her a moment longer. But she turned to the street, the city’s shadows rippling off the folds of her dress, the angle of her jaw and curve of her eyelashes. She stretched a hand into the night sky and a black cab appeared, its golden headlights flashing. Emily turned back to look at him before stepping through the open car door, “see you in Aldbourne, Nix.”  Nixon only managed to raise a hand goodbye and then she was gone, slipping off into the night. Nixon kicked himself. Why did he make the same mistake over and over again? He always went too far. He was mean. Why? Why did he lose his cool around her? Day after day he had officers, soldiers, and Tommy’s saying stupid shit to him and he still managed to hold his tongue. But the simplest conversation with Emily would spiral out of his control. Nixon returned to Aldbourne in the morning. He was relieved to be back. He needed a purpose and he enjoyed the work that occupied him. Green replacements were showing up every day to take the place of men Nixon had worked alongside for two years. All of the new faces suddenly made the quaint refuge of Aldbourne feel foreign. The new soldiers hadn’t had half the training the Toccoa men had, nor the rigor that Easy Company experienced under Sobel. Winters and the other officers had their work cut out for them getting the replacements up to standard. Nixon had other things to worry about. The 101st was on standby; jumps were scheduled and canceled as Patton’s army infiltrated the continent. The men were restless. Having faced the reality of war in Normandy, the men were living carpe diem. They went out drinking, fighting, and playing every chance they got. John Martin and Bill Guarnere even got themselves some tattoos. In the evenings, Nixon found himself in his lover’s bed, and during the days he was watching Emily. As far as Nixon knew, Emily hadn’t said anything to Harry regarding her feelings. But Nixon didn’t miss the forlorn looks she gave him. Nixon grit his teeth each time he saw her mooning over Harry’s turned back. That night in London Nixon realized that he cared deeply for Emily in a way that could never be realized. He was married. He was a rogue. She deserved so much more than being a mistress- stop. He had to stop himself there. He couldn’t afford to even entertain the idea. Let her pine for Harry. It was only a crush, a crush and nothing more. It wasn’t hurting anyone; at least no one but him. The reality was, Emily was young. She was beautiful and clever. One day she would meet someone and it would be more than just a crush. Their fight in London had sobered Nixon up. Not literally, but it made him check his own behavior. He didn’t want to fight with her again. He never wanted to make her cry again. If all they could be was friends and colleagues, he wanted to be the best friend and colleague she had. Once they returned to the continent their time together would be even more limited. Nixon was determined to make the most of it. That summer in Aldbourne they worked together more symbiotically than ever before. Nixon’s conscious patience combined with Emily’s keen intuition made their workdays go smoothly. This was beneficial for the American intelligence’s reputation in front of the Brits. The next drop onto the continent would take place in Holland. Operation Market Garden was the brainchild of British intelligence. Nixon didn’t want to sound like a snob so he wouldn’t admit that he was wary of their plan. But orders were orders so Nixon surrendered control. Though Operation Market garden was the strategic genius of the British, Nixon and his staff did a lot of the grunt work. Emily helped to identify drop zones and coordinated routes for the paratroopers to meet up with the British armory. It was a lot of work in a region Emily had never seen, nor would likely ever see. The plan was to drop into Holland near Eindhoven. This meant another troopship for Emily and overground travel through the seized territory. If everything went as it should, Emily would link up with Battalion headquarters just across the border in Germany. That was if everything was executed as the allies hoped. Summer wound down and the first chills of winter came with the falling leaves of September. Back in their old digs, Nixon sipped on a whiskey-laced cup of coffee. “Why are you being so nice to me lately?” Emily was working at her desk, using a ruler to draw a grid on a black and white map. “What do you mean? I’m always nice.” Emily lifted her pen from the map she was looking at to give him a look. “What? You want me to be mean?”

  “No, of course not,” she turned back to her paper, “but it’s weird.”  

“Why is it weird?”  

“I’m just not used to you like this.” “Like what?” “You have two versions.” Emily said, “smart Nix and grumpy Nix.” “Nice to hear you think I’m smart,” Nixon perched on the edge of his desk to watch her work. “Smart as in smart-ass,” she elaborated. “Well, that’s not very nice.” “I’m not the one being accused of being nice.” “Accused? You make nice sound like such a bad thing.” Emily giggled, “I do not! I’m just saying you’re out of character.” “Maybe war has changed me.” “I’m so glad you’re never dramatic.” Nixon raised his eyebrows over a sip of coffee, “If I’m dramatic it’s from spending time with you.” Emily stuck her tongue out at him. Nixon was about to retort when Lt. Colonel Strayer appeared in in the doorway, “Captain Nixon,” “Right,” Nixon sat his coffee down on his desk and followed Strayer out the door. Nixon shared a jeep with Strayer as far as the hanger outside Aldbourne. Winters stood in front of the Easy Company men assembled beneath a large map of Holland. Nixon took his place on Winters’ left and the lieutenants and sergeants fell in by rank behind him. Nixon noticed Emily’s handiwork on the stenciled letters above the hand-colored map. “This is called Operation Market Garden,” Winters presented, “in terms of Airborne Divisions involved, we’re dropping deep into occupied Holland.” Nixon scanned the faces of the men assembled before them. Without knowing the individuals, he could tell who had been in Normandy and who hadn’t; it was the difference of acceptance and anxiety. All of their serious faces hung on Winters’ every word, soaking up every detail of what was to come. As Winters finished his presentation some of the veteran’s expressions changed to ones of confusion. Nixon stepped forward, “the entire European advance has been put on hold to allocate resources for this operation. It’s Montgomery’s personal plan and we’ll be under British command.” Once Nixon finished the men filed out to prepare to jump the next day. “Old men and children?” Winters said over Nixon's shoulder.

Nixon looked over at his friend, “that’s what they’re telling us.” “And how reliable do you think the intelligence is?” Winters asked as they walked out of the hanger. Nixon rolled his jaw, “what can I say? It’s coming from the top.”  “It’s hard to believe this will end the war.”  “All we can do is hope for the best. Home by Christmas,” Nixon said. “Home by Christmas,” Winters repeated as if it were a mantra. That night Nixon couldn’t sleep though he needed to. They would be leaving for the airfield at first light. After an hour or so of staring at his ceiling, Nixon pulled on his boots, grabbed his flask, and walked downstairs. He didn’t know what he was seeking but he had to get out of his room. Nixon took a sip from his flask as he stepped into the hall. It seemed to stretch on forever in the darkness. He didn’t bother to screw the cap on his flask. He made his way down the carpeted steps drinking along the way. Nixon didn’t know where he was going as he wandered through the winding halls of the manor. It wasn’t until he was in front of her door that he realized he had walked to Emily’s room. He raised his hand to knock when the door swung open. “Oh!” Emily yelped in surprise then quickly pressed a hand over her mouth, “Lew, you startled me.”

“Uh, sorry,” Nixon said. Emily’s expression quickly morphed into concern, “is everything okay?” Nixon smoothed his hair down, realizing it was probably mussed from laying in bed. “oh yeah, I just was walking by and noticed your light on. I wanted to make sure you were okay.” “Oh,” Emily smiled suspiciously, “okay, well I’m going downstairs for some tea, you want to come?” Nixon hesitated, considering her offer, “uhh, no, that’s okay. Thanks.” “Okay, you sure?” Emily’s eyes flicked down at the flask in his hand. Nixon tightened his grip on it suddenly self conscious. “Yeah, gonna head to bed.” “Okay, well hey, if I don’t see you before,” she paused, not wanting to verbalize the goodbye. “I’ll see you over there,” Nixon nodded confidently at her. Unexpectedly, she reached out and took his empty hand. Nixon looked down at her grip and back up into her sweet face. She squeezed his hand, “I’ll see you over there, Lew.” It took all of his willpower to turn away from her. He walked slowly back down the dark hallway listening to her light steps fall away down the steps behind him.

#Band of Brothers #hbo band of brothers #fanfiction #original character #as far as friends go #lewis nixon #emily rooney #lewis nixon x oc #joe toye #george luz #dick winters #harry welsh #harry welsh x oc

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wickedsingularity · 6 years ago

Text

Emergency Landing [one-shot]

Fandom: Star Trek Pairings/characters: Jim Kirk x reader (but not really), Hikaru Sulu, Spock, Leonard McCoy, Nyota Uhura, Montgomery Scott, M'Benga Words: 3987 Warnings: Hypothermia, bumps and bruises, blood

Prompt/summary: On the way home from a conference, and just a few hours before Jim's birthday, their shuttlepod hits an ion storm.

Note: This was supposed to be one of the xmas stories, but I felt it didn't quite fit, so I changed it to fit AOS Jim's birthday instead. The story is probably not what people are looking for on here, but it's the kind of story I like to write, more substance. And it came easy to me (the hardest part was finding out what dishes to use for rations) and I'm proud of it. So, sorry (not sorry) it's not a fluffy lovey dovey smutty sugary cliché-fic.

"I'm looking forward to a nice, long sonic shower and a night in my own bed," I said as I altered our course a fraction, hoping it would shave a few minutes off our estimated travel time.

"Me too," Jim agreed. "The temperature in that hall was awful."

Jim and I had been to a conference on Tellar Prime about advancement in warp drives and the impact it has on the Prime Directive. Scotty decided it was better to send his assistant chief engineer instead of going himself, and when Jim told me Starfleet made him go too because of his tendency to disregard the Prime Directive and to act as a buffer between the Tellarites and Andorians if necessary, I didn't hesitate to agree to go in Scotty's place. It hadn't been a vacation by any means. Jim off in diplomatic meetings with other species' captains and representatives and me attending one lecture after another, speaking to the best engineers and professors currently available in the Federation. But we attended a few lectures together, and it was nice to travel somewhere with him and relax in a giant bed in a luxurious hotel rather than the smaller and harder Starfleet beds.

The Tellarites liked temperatures a lot warmer than what us humans were used to on a regular basis. It made me sticky and sweaty and I felt like a magnet for all the dust and dirt in the environment there. Though I had taken a water shower every day, nothing really felt as cleansing as a sonic one.

"How long until we reach our rendezvous point?" Jim asked, swivelling his chair around.

I swiped the panel in front of me. "Three hours twenty-six minutes."

"Too long to wait to eat." Jim got up and I heard him rummage around in a compartment for rations. "Do you want meatloaf with peas and mashed potatoes or deconstructed fish tacos?"

I frowned, checking the sensors, I thought I saw something. "That's all the options?"

"Sadly, yes. We need to restock."

"Let's have the meatloaf then." I couldn't see anything on the sensors, deciding it had been Tellarite dust in my eyes. "Warm it up for me?"

"If you activate the autopilot and come back here and eat with me, sweetheart." He already had one ration warmed up.

I took one last glance at the long-range sensors, still finding nothing, and then activated the autopilot. The second ration was done, and Jim set them up on the seat next to him along with two bottles of water. "One last dinner date before duty calls?" I asked.

He looked up and threw me that blinding smile of his. "Something like that."

I sat down on the other side of the two lightly steaming bowls of meatloaf and mashed potatoes. "Real romantic. In a dull shuttlepod. Dirty and sweaty. With rations and stale water."

"Computer, play some slow jazz." There was a beep, and then the sound of a slow and soothing saxophone filled the shuttlepod. "Better?"

I leaned over to give him a quick kiss. "It was already perfect because I'm with you."

"Trying to get in my pants, Lieutenant?"

"I don't have to try to get in your pants, Captain." Raising one eyebrow, I reached for my bowl and fork and took a bite, swallowing with a scowl. "Need to install replicators in our shuttlepods. The new shuttlepod classes are getting them, so why not."

"The captain approves of this idea." Jim too picked sceptically at his meatloaf.

Even if the food wasn't all that good, it was still full of nutrients and we dug in, talking about the conference, the jazz in the background. It was as romantic as it could get in a small shuttlepod. Until suddenly the entire craft tilted, the emergency lights started blinking red, and a klaxon replaced the music. What little was left of my food covered the back of the seat I banged into and Jim's bowl clattered to the floor.

We both scrambled to our feet, the craft tilting to the other side, and we grabbed onto whatever we could to make it to the controls. I plopped down in the seat and there was definitely something on sensors now.

"Ion storm," I said, raising my voice over the sound of the red alert. "A big one."

"Shields at 70 percent," Jim said. "Warp engine is offline. Impulse engine is online. Life support on auxiliary power." The shuttlepod began shaking violently. "Shields at 57 percent. 40 percent. We need to land!"

"There's a planet about four and a half million kilometres away. Uninhabited. Class P."

"Rerouting power to the shields, laying in course."

The twenty-minute flight was long. We cleared the ion storm after seven minutes and was able to drop the shields and save what little power was left, but the warp engines would not come back online, and impulse engines were hanging on by a thread. Life support would not last us until we reached the rendezvous point. I had already sent out a general distress call and was trying to hail the Enterprise while Jim tried his best to keep the engines online long enough to reach the planet. If we could at least get into the atmosphere, gravity would pull us down and we could use thrusters to hopefully bring us to a not too disastrous landing.

"Reaching atmosphere in two minutes," Jim announced.

"Shields are up."

"Brace yourself."

The shuttlepod rattled and shook, it's nose tilting more and more forward until we were hurtling through the atmosphere like a flaming arrow.

"Hull temperature rising," I warned. "Nearing critical. Rerouting life support to shields."

"Almost there!"

Sweat was dripping down my nose from the heat inside the pod. I kept my eyes locked on the shields and temperature levels, not even knowing what more power I could give to the shields to keep us from burning up. But just as I thought I would faint from the heat, we cleared the atmosphere and saw the icy and snowy surface coming closer and closer. The shuttlepod stopped rattling, and I began scanning for a good place to land. Not that we had much to say in the way of navigating, impulse engines were completely dead now.

"Try to land here," I said, entering a set of coordinates for Jim to navigate after.

He activated the thrusters, but it felt like they did nothing. "I'll just try and slow us down as much as I can wherever this piece of metal decides to go."

The surface was coming closer and closer. I knew it was a matter of seconds, but it felt like an eternity before Jim managed to get the pod a bit more horizontal just before it crashed into the snow and hurtled forwards. It sounded like the hull was being pulled apart and I was thrown back and forth and side to side and then –

Silence.

It was cold. So cold. A shiver ran through me. Everything hurt. I opened my eyes and blinked a few times. Then I carefully pushed myself up from the console with a pained groan. I took a moment to take stock of my body, moving my limbs a little bit. Nothing seemed broken, but I would definitely be colourful with various bruises in a bit. Something on my forehead was stinging though, and I touched my fingers to it. They came away red with almost dry blood.

"Jim?" My voice was croaky. I looked around and saw him hanging sideways over the arm of the chair, unconscious. Ignoring the pain everywhere and shivering from the cold and my heart beating hard at seeing Jim like that, I got up and stepped over, checking his pulse. A breath of relief left me. His pulse was strong if a bit slow. Carefully, I moved him into a sitting position and laid my hands on his cold cheeks. No blood on his face, thankfully, or anywhere else that I could see. "Jim?" No response. "Jim! Wake up!"

He inhaled sharply and his eyes blinked. I immediately planted a kiss on his forehead and laughed a bit hysterically.

"You okay?" he asked, closing his eyes again.

I sat down on the console in front of him. "Apart from a few bumps and bruises, yeah. What about you? Anything broken?"

"Doesn't feel like it." He looked at me and sat straighter, alarm in his blue eyes. "You're bleeding!"

I touched my hand to my forehead again and noticed that whatever was there had started bleeding again. I hadn't even felt the fresh blood run down my face as I was waking Jim. "I guess I am."

"Don't move." Jim stood up, winced a bit and then went straight to the compartment with the medkits. I looked around as he did. The front windows were cracked, the bulkhead was dented on the entire right side of the pod as if we had scraped a pointy piece of rock. Many compartments had opened and rations and equipment laid scattered.

Jim came back again, holding his side, and put the medkit down on the console next to me. He pulled out a piece of gauze, cleaning up some of the blood, before picking up a dermal regenerator for the wound. With every move he made, there was a pained frown on his face and he did most of the work with his left arm, but I didn't say anything as I felt the wound closing up, stinging less and less. He then pulled out a medical tricorder, but I pushed his hands away.

"No need for that, I'm fine now. But you're in pain." I moved to lift his shirt, but he pushed my hands away now.

"Just a bruise, from bumping around in the chair probably. It'll be fine. We need to get our bearings and warm up before we freeze to death."

My teeth had indeed started to chatter. "Right. And set up an automated distress call. Enterprise will have realised we're not going to show up by now and start looking."

Both of us moved a bit hesitantly at first, the cold slowed us down. I tried to find some power to send out a distress call, but everything was completely dead. Jim was pulling out emergency kits, tossing a thermal jacket my way before donning one himself.

"I think we should move out and try to find a cave. There's got to be one. Can't start a fire in here," he said, putting the rest of the rations in a backpack.

"Okay. I'm going to detach the distress beacon and take it with us. See if I can get it working."

Soon, we had packed everything we needed, holstered our phasers and donned the headlamps, wrestled the door open and faced the icy, windy and dark night. We both pulled out tricorders and Jim decided on a course. "This way, I think."

The trek was long and it was made slow by having to move through ten inches of snow. Our boots and pants were not suited for this environment and I felt my toes grow colder and colder with each step. The cold wind made my cheeks and eyes sting, tears falling and almost freezing on my skin. While the cold also made me feel less pain from all my bumps and bruises, I noticed Jim sometimes stiffened up and favoured his right side, his hands rubbing at the side of his stomach. I knew better than to ask about it right now, it would have to wait until we found shelter. And about an hour of walking later, a cave finally appeared in front of us.

"No life forms inside," he shouted over the wind and looked at me, cocking his head toward the mouth of the cave as if inviting me into his house.

I nodded, and we walked inside. The sting of the wind disappeared and the further in we got, the fainter the sound became. Only a faint howling in the distance. I looked around for something to use as kindling as we ventured deeper, but there was nothing but icicles and rocks, the cave just as barren as the landscape.

"I think this is deep enough," I said, coming to a stop, looking down at my tricorder. "Any further and the beacon will be out of range."

Jim agreed and we began setting our things down and wiping snow off ourselves. Then I ordered him to sit down.

"I've seen you wince in pain too many times now, let me look at you." I glared at him in that way I knew he understood it was pointless to argue. I knelt in front of him and lifted his shirt. His entire right side was a flower field of bruises. I gently touched him right below the chest and he shied away with a gasp. "Right. If that's not a broken rib, I don't know what is. You get started on this instead, and I'll get us warm." I dumped the beacon in front of him.

"Bossy," Jim mumbled as I rummaged around in his bag for a pain reliever. When I approached him with the hypospray, his playful grin fell. "No."

"Yes." And before he could get away from behind the beacon and move, I pressed the hypospray to his neck.

"Thanks," he then said a few seconds later, as I'm sure some of the pain went away.

I nodded and started to gather some rocks to warm up with my phaser. And then I took the beacon from Jim and continued trying to fix the damage. Jim moved over to the so-called fire and silence filled the cave.

When my hands were so cold I couldn't feel the textural difference between a metal screw and a piece of fabric, I finally got the beacon to power up. I set it to transmit the same distress call we had sent out earlier and wandered over to Jim who held out a water bottle for me.

"Warm up a bit, sweetheart. All we can do now is try to keep warm and wait."

I took a large swig from the bottle and then sat down next to him with my boots as close to the rocks as possible. Jim laid his arm around me and pulled me closer to his uninjured side. Even though he was probably almost as cold as I was, he made me feel warmer, and I leaned my head on his shoulder, rubbing my hands together.

"How's the rib?"

"Still there. But not as painful. Thank you." He kissed the top of my head.

"I can't believe our stupid shuttlepod broke down just a few damn hours before your birthday," I muttered. "On a class P planet."

"That's my birthday for you, it's jinxed." Jim chuckled and winced in pain.

I blew him a raspberry. "It's not jinxed, dumbass. But I had the chef prepare a birthday dinner for when we got back. I bet Bones and Spock are enjoying it instead right now. And gloating."

"You had him prepare for the entire crew? Were you going to throw me a surprise party? You know how I feel about those."

"No. Just you and me. You said we were going to be off duty when we got back and I wanted to pretend to have a normal birthday for you. Shit just seemed to happen every year before this, something always came up. I was so sure this year would be quiet and uneventful."

"Told you it was jinxed. It could have been worse, though. There could have been drakoulias here."

I blew him a raspberry again before silence fell over us. The day was catching up to me, and I felt drowsy. My head dropped down and I started, making Jim chuckle and wince in pain again. But he got up and pulled out the two thermal blankets we had in the backpack and held one out to me.

"Get some rest. I'll keep watch, just in case."

"It's uninhabited. No life forms. It would be safe for you to rest too. And it looks like you need another hypospray," I protested, but I was already settling down on the cold ground and pulling the blanket over me.

Jim moved the distress beacon closer, wrapped the second blanket around himself like a cape, sat down next to the beacon and laid his communicator on the ground. Then he spread his legs, waving me over. I crawled over and settled between his them, using his thigh as a pillow and draped the blanket over myself and his legs. "Just in case. And in case Enterprise hails us. And it feels like I'm better off sitting. Sleep, love. I'll wake you if I need to rest too."

Feeling the heat from Jim creep into me and his fingers gently combing through my hair, I fell asleep quickly. But it was a restless sleep and I woke up what felt like every other minute, feeling colder and colder every time. At one point, I felt Jim shivering slightly. I looked up and saw his head had fallen back to the cave wall, eyes closed and mouth open.

I sat up carefully, trying not to wake him and reached for my phaser to stun the rocks again. Jim blue eyes were open a fraction when I turned back to him. "You're shivering and your lips are turning blue. Please take another hypospray and lie down with me," I ordered.

He didn't even hesitate. He bent his head back and let me press the pain reliever to his neck and then we laid on top of my blanket and wrapped our limbs around each other, and I pulled his blanket tight around us.

"You sleep now, and I'll stay awake."

Again, he didn't even hesitate. He pressed a pair of ice-cold lips to mine, then nuzzled into my neck.

I don't how long I managed to stay awake for, or how long I had been asleep when a sound invaded my consciousness and pulled me back to the cave. Footsteps were coming closer. I was distracted for a fraction of a second of Jim shivering and breathing raggedly next to me, but the echoing sound of a tumbling rock made me grab the phaser lying near my head and hold it towards the mouth of the cave, desperately whispering for Jim to wake up.

Whoever or whatever was coming, came with bright lights that blinded me. "Who's there?" I called out.

"No need to point your phaser at us, Lieutenant."

"Sulu?"

"To the rescue!"

The light was close enough now that I could see Spock, Sulu and Bones. The latter took in the scene in front of him for a second, then strode over with the medical tricorder already out. "Figures that the two of you managed to crash-land on a deserted planet and almost freeze to death while just flying home from a damn conference."

I untangled myself from Jim's trembling arms, and that finally made him open his eyes. "Check him first," I said to the doctor. "Please."

Sulu and Spock came over and helped Jim sit up. Though he was awake, he didn't seem very conscious of what was happening around him and he looked like he was too cold to notice the broken rib. Bones ran the tricorder up and down his body, a frown on his face. I knelt next to them, too worried about how much he was shivering and how blue his lips were.

"His temperature is at 30 Celsius. And he's got a number of bruises and a broken rib and frostbites. We need to get him to sickbay immediately."

Spock whipped out his communicator. "Spock to Enterprise."

"Did you find them?" Uhura's voice came at the other end.

"Yes. Are Commander Scott able to get a transporter lock yet?"

"Negative," Scotty said. "Ye have to get them outta that cave."

"You're not hypothermic yet," Bones suddenly said. I hadn't even noticed that he had scanned me, being too worried about Jim. "That cut on your forehead needs tending too, you didn't do a good job sealing it up, and there's a number of bruises and frostbites on you too. But nothing urgent."

"Can Captain Kirk be moved?" Spock asked.

"Carefully, yes," Bones replied. The two of them got on either side of the captain and pulled him to his feet, and laid his arms over their shoulders. I helped Sulu pack up our stuff and quickly caught up with the trio slowly making their way towards the howling wind. Jim's head was lolling, he had clearly lost consciousness again. Fear gripped at my heart and the walk out of the cave seemed to take fifty times as long as when Jim and I walked inside.

Finally, Spock and Bones stopped. "Spock to Enterprise. Five to beam up directly to sickbay."

As soon as the howling, bitingly cold wind was replaced by warmth and a sterile smell, several things happened at once. Bones began barking out orders while getting Jim onto a biobed. Sulu took the distress beacon from me and he and Spock hurried out of the room. Nurses ran around with blankets and trays of vials and equipment. One of them herded me onto a biobed too far from Jim, and Bones drew the curtains around his bed so I couldn't even see what was going on. I moved to walk over there, but the nurse pushed on my shoulder and forced me down and put a blanket over me.

"Jim," I tried.

"The captain is being treated," the nurse said. "And you need to get your temperature up."

I glared up at him, but he ignored it. I knew he was right. So, I stopped fighting and tried to relax onto the bed while Doctor M'Benga came over and began scanning me with various devices. He and the nurse exchanged a few words I didn't catch, and then M'Benga began retreating the cut on my forehead and the nurse gave me a hypospray, and that was the last thing I remembered.

A few days later, I came out of the bathroom wearing nothing but a towel and feeling clean for the first time since before Jim and I left for the conference, it had taken several sonic showers. I had been discharged from Doctor M'Benga's care after just a couple of hours, the cut on my forehead healed properly, frostbites treated and most bruises gone. But Bones kept Jim for two whole days. But then he was finally let out, given a clean bill of health, and under strict orders to take a couple of days off. Which, I figured, is how he had time to set this up.

There, on the table, was the birthday dinner I had asked the chef to make for us.

"Jim? What is this?"

He stood next to the table, looking proud of himself. "I guess my birthday is kind of over, but you seemed disappointed it didn't go the way you had planned. And it sounded really good to have a quiet birthday dinner with just the two of us. So... I did this." His blue eyes were bright and his smile even brighter.

I strode over and wrapped my arms around his neck, looking up into his happy face. "You really are something, James Tiberius. I love you."

"I love you too." He leaned down and gave me a quick kiss, lips so warm and soft.

"And happy belated, handsome. Let me go change and we can eat."

"Do you have to? It'll just take me longer to unwrap you later."

I slipped out of his grasp and hurried away to the bedroom area. "You gotta work for it, Captain," I looked back over my shoulder and winked at him.

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lighthouseroleplay · 5 years ago

Photo

KAMI EMRYS

( 22 , cis woman , she/her )

♪♫ currently listening ⧸⧸ diamonds are forever by sabrina carpenter

chapped-pink lips coated with coconut balm, pom-poms tucked away in a closet, short nails painted in a pastel hue. round cheeks suffused with joy, hearts doodled in pink ink, french fries dipped into milkshakes, high ponytails. a box filled with unsent love letters, the gentle scratch of a kitten’s claws, soft skin underneath a loose silk blouse, purple bruises dappled across shins, tall cocktails filled with fruit.

• moon has always been in your life, and maybe that’s also how long you’ve loved her. it’s impossible to pinpoint the day that adoration started ( first grade, when she punched an older boy for making fun of the gap between your teeth? grade eight graduation, when she held your hand in every photo? when she spent a week in high school running through your routine for the competition?) she was always simply there, and you always loved her for it. hadfield you loved too, but in a different way, or maybe it was your love for moon that was different. they brought a different dynamic, a third to what was once a trio, and you loved their wildness, something new to the stuffy old town, but some days, you worried they would replace you.

• montgomery was a friendship that happened almost by accident. the king to your homecoming queen, an honor with various parades and responsibilities bestowed upon it, and you were tied to this man throughout it all. you’d never spoken before the night of the dance, but after it all, you were close. nothing bonds people like shared responsibility, no? but maybe it was more that you saw the vulnerability that he hid from so many others, saw the way he reminded you of yourself: it was easy to be with him. there were never any secrets. and if your classmates all assumed you were dating, well, it was easy to let them believe it.

taken by jax ⧸⧸ mina mahmood .

during

you had been nervous when you finished school. tenebrin was all you knew, all you had ever known, and college-something you had been dreaming off-seemed terrifying now that it was becoming real.

you were moving across the country from your family, your friends were seemingly scattering across the world and you couldn’t help but worry about what that meant for you all. for you, for montgomery, for hadfield.

for moon, who you never quite found the words to tell the only two things you had kept from them.

a hundred, a thousand, a million time you had almost told her-that you would never be dating montgomery, or any boy, not only because their gender was wrong but because they weren’t her.

and you thought about it, that summer, because things were changing. you were standing with one foot in the past and another in the future, and no matter what you said-or didn’t say-things wouldn’t be the same between you two.

one day, halfway through the summer, you made up your mind-you were going to tell her. maybe not the part where you were in love with her, but at least the fact that you were gay. it was 2015, it was going to be okay, there was nothing to be scared of. you could tell moon-and hadfield, you decided, you couldn’t hide it from one of them and not the other-and it was the first step in being honest.

so, you went to the beach with your best friends, and you asked montgomery to come-you squeezed his hand for reassurance when he got there, because you felt like you needed someone in your corner to remind you that it was okay.

you didn’t know why you were so nervous, but you mostly figured it was because it laid you bare. if people knew they could connect the dots-moon could connect the dots-

and that was the worst outcome, you were sure.

the beach was familiar, though it seemed that everyone you knew was there that day. you kept putting off saying the words, interjecting into the lighthearted conversation, nervous laughter slipping from your lips and your eyes darting over to moon’s face more frequently than usual.

whatever plans you had for that day, whatever thoughts you had about it, they darted out of your mind the moment you say andy go into the water.

that changed everything.

you watched your classmate-a girl you had known your whole life, who had been on the cheer team with you, who you were relieved was going to school in a city a thousand miles away from you, a girl the same age as you was dead.

you had been looking for a sign, that day on the beach to tell the truth. a moment or a lead in point in the conversation that would make it the right time. andy dying wasn’t the sign you were looking for, but it was one you got.

life was fleeting, and things could change in an instance.

after

you hadn’t intended to think of your life in terms of before and after andy-but it was a tragedy coinciding with the move from high school to college, from tenebrin to philadelphia. it seems odd to frame your life around the death of a classmate you weren’t all that close to, but it was more than that, really.

before, you were small town, local, a name everyone knew. but university of pennsylvania was big, you were anonymous at first. no one knew you or your story, and for the first time in years you let yourself breathe.

there was less pressure on you here.

you still tried hard, of course. you had vet school to think about, and biology wasn’t exactly an easy major. but you were passionate about it, and you enjoyed your classes even when it 2 am and you were in a corner of the library on the brink of crying from the stress of midterms.

there was no expectation to behave a certain way here, and there was nothing in the city that felt connected to the death you witnessed. pennsylvania was landlocked and thousands of miles away, and the distance was healing.

you did what you always did when you needed to cope, which was throw yourself into a million different things to keep you busy. you got a part time job at a coffee shop near campus, joined a sorority that you would one day serve as president of, you volunteered at an animal shelter, and joined far too many clubs. you found internships and excuses not to go home for break, and you pulled away from attachments back home.

you kissed girls at parties, and on the steps of the art museum, and behind the closed doors of bedrooms. you dated, casually, for the most part, and you never let yourself linger for too long on the unread texts and calls left unreturned with moon at the other end.

you didn’t go home because you were afraid of what you’d find there, of the people you left behind. out of all your friends the only one you kept any solid contact with is montgomery, and you dreaded those awkward run ins that were bound to happen in a town as small as tenebrin.

but tenebrin would always be your home, would always be the place you loved more than anywhere else. four years away must have felt like enough of a buffer, because you cried when you got your acceptance to vet school at washington state. your grandparents were getting older, a harsh reality you had struggled to come to terms with living 3,000 miles away, and you still had a few more years left of school before you could settle down anywhere. washington was calling you home, and you couldn’t find it in yourself to fight it.

maybe tenebrin wouldn’t be where you settled down after vet school. maybe you’d leave and find a place to put down roots in some distant corner of the country, not in some small town where there’s memories and ghosts on every corner.

but maybe, you thought, moving back into your childhood room before your move to seattle in the fall, it wouldn’t be so bad if you did end up back here in a few years. not all ghosts were bad.

#emrys #skel: all #emrys: skel #skel: taken

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marvelmymarvel · 6 years ago

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Aim For My Heart

Part 5/15

Lewis Nixon x Sniper!Marshall!Reader

Synopsis: As a Female Snipper for Easy company, you certainly do get a lot of attention, but the only attention you want is from Lewis Nixon. In the deadly mix called love in a war in which you had no business being in, will you and Lew make it out alive

You sat in the pub with everyone else. Some of the men were making bets on whether they could hit the bullseye or not on the dartboard. You chuckled at their stupid antics but kept drinking the beer that Lew brought you before he was pulled away. You were sitting nearby some of the new replacements and saw Bill eyeing them. “Hey Fellas, what do you hear? What do you say?” Bill started and you crossed your leg, listening in. You were hoping he would go easy on them, as you saw them as your ‘babies’, of course, you were the only one that felt that way towards the replacements. “Actually, that's babes seat, private Heffron's,” One of the men said. You nodded at his bravery seeing as no one, but you really stood up to Bill and his ways. “Is that right. I don't care if its fucking Eisenhower's” he snarled and you rolled your eyes at his response. “Bill” you hissed finally leaning away from the table that you sat at with Web as you tried to stop him. “Who are you” Bill pressed, ignoring you. You glared at his head as he waved you off.

“Private Miller, James Miller. I'm in Sergeant Randleman's squad” One of the boys stated. The others followed and you pursed your lips, hoping that Bill would listen to you and go easy. He was telling them about a story, and you listened, wondering where it was going. “What do you call one of them letters” Bill called back to you and Web. “Er, “Dear John” letter” Web answered as you took a sip of your beer, realizing that he was in fact, going to go easy. “That's it a “Dear Babe” letter” you snorted at the comparison before drinking some more of the beer. Shaking your head at Web you laughed at Bill’s punchline. Then they started to pick on Bull “They probably think he's a fuckin hayseed, ain't that right?” Bill teased as you hit his arm. The boys laughed and you glared at Bill, “Be nice Billy” you whispered.

“What are you laughing at?” Martin hissed out, making the boys fall silent and for you to look at him in shock. They were all just having fun, and while Bill was getting on your nerves, you knew he was just joking around with everyone. When you saw Martins' face go into a little smile you shook your head angrily at them. They were all acting like pricks. Scaring these poor boys for no reason. But you kept your mouth closed, that was until Cobb opened his. Cobbs' hand slammed into the kid's arm, making him turn in disbelief that someone would hit him. “Where'd you get that” Cobb hissed as he fiddled with Miller's medal. “It's a presidential distinguished unit citation. For, uh... For what the regiment did in Normandy” Miller replied boldly, like he wasn't ashamed. You set your glass down, feeling like you were about to fight Cobb if he, even a little, tore this kid down. “Don't do it” Web hissed out. You didn't know if it was to you or Cobb, but you didn't care. “That's right, for what the regiment did. You weren't there” Cobb hissed and you stood up, chair scratching as Web watched you wide-eyed. “Hey, Cobb, why don't you leave these men alone you son of a bitch” You snarled out and he rolled his eyes at you. “Why don't you sit back down Princess” Cobb snarled back before his friend came around, telling him to ease up and that it was a unit citation that every man get a medal. Your hands were balled in fists as you felt anger bubble and rise under your skin. But your heart broke when Miller took it off. You scoffed at the whole thing, “Shit Cobb, You didn't fight in Normandy neither” Bull snapped out, before turning to leave. “I got hit in the plane before I got a chance to jump” Cobb stated to the other replacement. You shook your head and snatched up the medal, “Doesn't change the fact that you’re a pussy who can talk but can’t fight” you whispered before walking over to where the kid was. He was turned to the wall, trying to calm down. “Hey, Miller right?” you asked kindly as you fumbled with the medal. He turned to you and you smiled softly at him before extending your hand with the medal between your fingers. “I actually fought in Normandy... You wear this medal with pride and you pay no attention to men like Cobb. They’re cowards, but you stay strong kid” you stated. He eyed the medal and you before reaching out to grab it. You nodded softly before turning back towards the group, “Thank you” Miller called out and you turned your head, throwing a wink “Anytime kiddo.” you whispered back. “Hey, Y’all, listen up.” Smokey hollered out and you all turned to listen, “I got us an announcement to make.” He pushed Lip underneath him so everyone could see him “This here is Carwood Lipton”, you chuckled at this weird introduction “He’s already married, smokey” You hollered out, causing men to laugh. “This here is Carwood Lipton, the new Easy company 1st Sergeant.” You cheered for him as you clapped loudly, a glare was sent to you from Cobb but you just flipped him off. “Well, hate to break the mood here, boys” Car began to speak up and your face fell. It seemed as if he only broke the mood. “But, we’re moving out again” it fell silent and you half expected this. Lew talked about this the night before so you weren't shocked. All the men were silent as Lip left the room awkwardly. Leaning over the table you and Web sat at, you snapped at Web to get his attention. “Finish this for me Webby?” You asked as you slid your half drunk beer to him. He nodded and you mouthed a thank you before leaving the pub.

Wrapping your arms around yourself, you couldn't wait to cuddle into Lew and fall fast asleep, which is exactly what you did. You found him at the desk, looking over the plans for the next day. “What's the plan” you stated as you sat on the bed and untied your shoes. “If I told you, I’d have to kill you” he whispered and you chuckled as you put your sock covered feet onto the wooden floorboards. Walking over to him, you wrapped your arms around him as you laid your head on his shoulder. Kissing his ear, you eyed the plans. “Y/n” He whispered and you realized you were caught red handed. You looked up and saw that a mirror was in front of you two, you smiled sheepishly at him before pecking his cheek and starting to strip. “I don't get it Lew” you began as you threw your jacket onto the chair near the bed. He hummed as he wrote something down, and you continued as you slid your pants off, “Why can't I know the plans. I am Y/n Marshall... I have privileges here-” “Because your father is the General of the Army. If your father was Sink, maybe... But I was told specifically that I can't tell you anything.” Lew stated as he set the pen down, looking up at you while leaning back. He wasn't annoyed with your constant pestering, but he was upset that he couldn't share with you what he was planning. You looked at him as you slid his boxers on and white t-shirt from the night before. It smelt like him. You smiled, bringing in the collar as you inhaled him deeper. “It's like you’re around me Lew” you whispered out while looking at him lovingly. Lew smiled as you walked over to the bed, laying down, you stared up at the ceiling. He didn't say anything, only looked down in fear. Fear that if he made one wrong mistake, your life was at stake. “Lew” You called out when he didn't look up from the ground you sat up, “Honey” you whispered and his eyes snapped to your worried ones. You smiled softly while opening your arms, “Come to bed.”

You sat beside Bill as you listened to the plan which was called ‘Operation Market Garden.’ You stuck your hand out behind you where Lieb was sitting for a smoke. Once you felt the cigarette between your fingers, you took stuck it between your teeth as you leaned towards Bill for him to light it. “We’re dropping deep into occupied Holland” Winters began. You pulled away, nodding at Bill and Lieb as a form of silent thanks, before facing back forwards. Inhaling, your eyes caught Lew’s. Throwing up a shit-eating grin, you exhaled the smoke. “The allied objective is to take this road here, between Eindhoven and Arnhem, so that two British armored divisions can move up it toward Arnhem. Our job is gonna be to liberate Eindhoven, stay there, wait for the tanks” Winters finished his part and you watched as Lew went forward to start his. “The entire European advance has been put on hold to allocate resources for this operation. It's Montgomery’s personal plan, and we’ll be under British command.” Men groaned beside you and you realized that Lew wasn't designing the plan, he was studying it. “The good news is, if this works, these tanks will be over the Rhine and into Germany.” He continued despite the groans. Your eyes locked with his “It could end the war, and get us home by Christmas.” Your heart raced and you looked at your hands, the thought of being home safe with Lew made your stomach flip happily. “It’s a daytime jump. Intelligence doesn't expect much opposition, they think the Krauts in Holland are mostly kids and old men. And we should take ‘em by surprise. In any case, say goodbye to England.” Your heart broke at those words as you looked back up at him. “I don't think they’re gonna call this one off.” he finished before his gaze met with yours. “Private Marshall” someone hollered from beside the area. You stood, knowing what it was before he could continue, “Yeah yeah yeah” you whispered as you walked through the groaning men. “How come she gets to leave early?” Some replacement hollered “Because she's the General of the fuckin Armies daughter you prick” Liebgott hollered back. “Boys” you hissed as you glared at Lieb for his language before throwing Lew an apologetic look for disturbing the meeting as you were pulled away.

“How’s the ol’ General” Lew whispered in your ear as he wrapped an arm around your shoulder. You hadn't seen him since you left to go talk with your father, so the only time you got with him was before you were preparing to jump. You leaned forward, pressing your lips to his hungrily. He stopped walking in shock and kissed you back, but he had a confused look on his face when you finished. “What was that for” he questioned as he caressed your cheek, “Just in case I don't make it” you whispered up at him truthfully. His smile fell and he got serious, “You’re gonna make it” He whispered and you nodded, “Even though I didn't plan this. You will be safe-.” “Because you studied it till you were sick” You whispered up at him, cutting him off and making him purse his lips. He didn't want to tell you. “Lew you cant... You can't worry about losing me when you make the plans. If my death means we win then my death means we-” “Stop it” He snapped out, stopping your rant in its tracks.

“Your death, won't do anything but bring pain to those around you. If you haven't noticed Y/n, these men love you. Losing you would be detrimental. So don't you dare try and ‘sacrifice’ yourself for them.” he seethed out as he backed away from you, shaking his head in anger “Becuase it will only ruin them” he finished as he turned to leave. “Lew” you called out but he kept walking. You bit your lip, watching him leave. You feared it would be the last thing you would see.

The jump was easy you thought as you raced alongside the others. Air support left you and you all began to walk through the thick wheat field. “You and Nixon fighting?” Liebgott asked and you sighed, “Just a little misunderstanding” you whispered out as you began to come up to the town, “Good” Lieb stated and that made you grow confused, “Why good Lieb” you pressed. It wasn't a question, more of a statement. “He was pissed when he was talking to Winters before the jump. Talked about how you thought he was making the plans to save you. Talked about how you said if your death was the only choice-” “Lieb” you sighed, knowing where this was going “No you just listen here Y/n” He stopped you and you quieted down, “You are so damn important to all of us here.” he began again and some of the men hummed in agreeance behind you. You looked back at the faces and turned back to Lieb as you continued to walk. “If he did design those plans to keep you safe. That's the greatest gift he could give us” He finished and you were silent as more men agreed. You sighed as you repositioned your gun. Staying silent the rest of the walk towards the town, you thought about how much you truly meant to everyone, not just Lew.

They cheered for you. You were a little dazed by the fact that there was no bloodshed at all, that finally, you got your way. You tried to find Lew as the crowds began to overwhelm you. “Dance” one man tried to state and you just shook your head but he grabbed for you anyway. “No, no thank you sir” you whispered as he dragged you into the dance. You held hands with the others as you danced in a circle. People bumped you and surrounded you. All you wanted to do was climb on top of a tank and never get down. An arm wrapped around you and you turned to push them off as your worst fears came true. “It's just me. Its just me” Lew whispered in your ear as you then clutched onto him. His familiar scent making you forget the crowd for a second. He led you over to the side where no one was and you gasped for breath like you almost drowned as you grabbed onto the wall. Head facing down, you tried to catch your breath. He rubbed your back as the stress took over your body, making your breathing jagged and your stomach swirl. You turned and leaned against the wall as he cornered you. To some people, it would make them feel unsafe. But at that moment, that was all you needed. “Hey don't cry” he whispered as you sunk down the wall, you didn't even realize that you were in fact crying until he said that. Then it got worse. You covered your mouth to hide the loud sob and the fact that you were breaking again. But he knew better. “Shh shh shhh honey you're safe now” he cooed as he got down on his knee, trying to block out the overwhelming crowd from your vision. If he could just get you high up and out of the way, you would be fine. He wiped your tears as you began to calm down. “Let's get you high up eh?” he asked softly and you nodded. As you stood at the edge of the sidewalk, you looked at the sea of people in fear. He wrapped his arm tightly around you and you gripped onto his collar, “Come on honey, no one can hurt you” he whispered softly as you worked your way through the crowd. You found Winters who was perched up to overlook the scene and Lew shoved you on top of that area. You instantly felt calmer being near both of them and you looked out with Winters. And then you saw it. The girls were thrown in the circle and sheared like sheep. You dropped down, gripping onto Lew as you grew afraid of the group. “What did they do,” someone asked and you just gripped onto Lew harder, pushing your body closer into him. “They slept with the Germans” someone stated behind you. You were about to snap a comment back but someone tapped you on the shoulder. “Miss, Your father is on the line” He stated and you nodded before pecking Lew’s cheek, seeing his concerned face as he didn't want you wandering around alone without him. “I’ll be careful Lew” you whispered out before leaving.

That night, you two were able to snag a bedroom with some very nice farmers. You laid your head on his chest, relaxed at the peace and quiet that surrounded you two. Finally. You thought. You began to think of quiet nights like this back home. Would you live with Lew? Would he marry you? How many kids would he want- “Whatcha thinking about” he whispered making his chest rumble softly beneath your ear as your fingers stopped tracing his bare chest. “Nothing” you whispered back shyly. Truth be told, it was a little early to be thinking of marriage and kids, considering you’ve only been together for 2 and a half years, yet it felt like an eternity. “I know you Y/n” he whispered back before pressing his lips to your forehead. You sighed before sitting up and looking at him. “What's our future” you whispered out, it was bold, but it felt stupid. Not stupid to ask, but stupid to think he wouldn't be with you forever. His smile fell and he cocked his head. “What exactly about our future” he pressed. Your cheeks got hot, realizing that this could either break you or make you love him even more. “Will we get married?” you asked softly. You were hoping he wouldn't laugh, and you were thankful when his lips went up into a half smile. “I just need to get a ring. But of course, we will get married” he stated before sitting up. “Next question” he pressed while cupping your cheeks lovingly. “How many kids” you stated and he chuckled, “However many we can make” he answered playfully and you slapped his arm. Then he got serious, “However many you want is fine by me. I just wanna be with you for the rest of my life” he stated softly. It took your breath away. He pecked your lips softly before laying you both down. Holding you close to him, you felt complete, you felt love. Most importantly, you felt safe.

Part 6

Tags:

@hell-itwasyou @desired-love-

#lewis nixon x reader #lewis nixon imagine #lewis nixon imagines #lewis nixon #band of brothers imagines #band of brothers imagine #band of brothers #band of brothers fanfic #aim for my heart

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kingkeerys · 7 years ago

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the art of chasing ♔ billy hargrove

concept: steve has a female best friend and billy has taken it upon himself to flirt with her just to piss steve off. that’s it. that’s the plot.

a/n: i don’t know where this came from. it just sort of happened. it’s not really an imagine bc i don’t like writing in second person or even first person, hence the reason the girl actually has a name. but i guess it can classify as one. i’ll be glad to write more if people enjoy it. also just a disclaimer, i don’t condone billy’s behavior in the show. i know he’s an asshole. but i do love dacre montgomery, so. this happened. also this has no timeframe, it’s just basically taking place randomly in season 2. each scenario is numbered separately that way i can write however many i want whenever i want. sound good?~~

just a young gun with a quick fuse,

i was uptight, wanna let loose.

i was dreamin’ of bigger things and

wanna leave my old life behind.

“’Bullshit, bullshit, bullshit…’” he reiterated in a high-pitched rendition of Nancy Wheeler’s voice.

Annie’s eyebrows rose as she replaced a few things in her locker.

“Ouch,” she said, frowning a bit. “Are you sure she knew what she was talking about? I mean, she was drunk. She might not have even heard what you said. Drunk people usually don’t.”

Steve Harrington gave her a dubious look as he leaned against the locker next to hers. He inclined his head, a strand of brown hair falling down over his forehead.

“She knew,” he said. “She heard me loud and clear. Good to know the last year has been nothing but bullshit to her.”

“I mean, she has been through a lot,” Annie reluctantly added, closing her locker with a sigh. “With her brother’s friend and then Barbara. You said it yourself, she’s been distant lately ever since her friend was declared… well, you know. It’s probably just stress.”

“I thought you hated Nancy,” Steve squinted over at her, as if betrayed that she was suddenly taking his girlfriend’s – ex-girlfriend’s? – side for once. “And now you’re defending her?”

“I don’t… hate her,” Annie disagreed carefully.

It was mostly the truth. Annie had a hard time hating anyone but if there was a person that came close to it, it was Nancy Wheeler.

She never understood the hype around the girl. Sure, she was pretty with a bright pair of blue doe eyes and she didn’t seem stupid considering her grades, but Annie never saw the appeal. She became exasperated when Steve started to chase after her the year prior and she tried to be the pliant, accepting best friend whenever Nancy was around for his sake, but that was as far as it went. Nancy seemed like a very two-dimensional person - almost artificial but not completely fake, like she tried to be a good person but it was for all the wrong reasons.

Not that Annie had any right to judge considering she’d only spoken about ten words to the girl. She couldn’t even pretend like she knew her personally so her judgement was all speculation at this point, and Nancy had never been directly rude to her whenever Steve had her around.

She did feel bad when her friend Barbara went missing though because, unlike Nancy, Barbara had been very approachable and kind. And it was clear that her disappearance really struck a chord in Nancy, causing her to go off the rails a bit and act slightly less goodie-two-shoes than usual. Again, not something Annie could judge since she was a bit of a goodie-two-shoes herself, but it was still a change worth noting.

Annie assumed Nancy’s situation with Barbara would be the equivalent to Steve going missing. If she lost him she didn’t know what she’d do. It made her sick to her stomach just thinking about it.

So no, she didn’t hate Nancy. But she didn’t like her either.

“And I’m not defending her,” Annie continued, pulling herself back into the present. “I’m just trying to see the story from both sides. But I’m sorry she said that to you,” Annie gave him a sympathetic look.

Steve heaved a deep sigh and turned to where his back was against the locker. He tilted his head back, his head hitting dully against the metal door.

“It’s just stupid. Things weren’t this complicated last year.”

“I know what you mean,” Annie nodded, reflecting on the past couple of months. “Ever since Will Byers went missing it’s like there’s been this chain reaction. Everything’s just been… weird.”

Steve snorted. “You have no idea.”

Annie glanced over at him. “What are you going to do?”

Steve mutely shook his head. Annie immediately understood what that mean. I have no idea.

She opened her mouth to say something else, maybe give him a confidence boost or talk negatively about Nancy to make him feel better, when loud laughter stopped her short.

She peered around Steve and spotted one of the banes of his existence prowling down the hallway with a bounce in their step. The boy’s snakelike grin stretched wide across his face the second his eyes found Steve’s miserable form and Annie felt dread pool in her gut at what might transpire.

“Why the long face, Harrington?” he mocked, the boys behind him muffling their laughter into closed fists. “Couldn’t get it up her skirt last night? Too much bullshit to satisfy the missus?”

Steve’s jaw clenched at the backhanded comment.

Annie placed a hand on his arm, quietly hoping he wouldn’t take the bait. Thankfully he kept his mouth shut, though his eyes were sharp as daggers.

The boy guffawed at Steve’s cold look before he turned his attention to Annie as he passed by them.

“Hey there, cutie,” he winked, flashing her a dazzling smile full of white teeth and Annie stiffened, her insides feeling hot. That was new. He’d never acknowledged her before on any of his other verbal attacks at Steve.

Steve must’ve noticed this too for his posture straightened and he kicked away from the locker, his shoulders squared as he stared the boy down, mentally debating with himself whether he wanted to instigate a fight or not. His glare didn’t go unnoticed and the boy laughed loudly again, covering his mouth with a bejeweled hand in callous mockery before him and his posse disappeared around the corner in all their denim-clad glory.

Annie released the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding and she glanced over at Steve who was still staring in the direction the boy had disappeared in. It was obvious his feathers had been rustled, no doubt the boy’s intentions from the get-go.

Annie patted his arm and his shoulders slowly lost their tension.

“He’s such an asshole,” said Steve sourly.

Billy Hargrove certainly was an asshole.

He tormented others for his own personal enjoyment and more often than not Steve was on the receiving end of it. Annie couldn’t think of two people that were more opposite than Steve and Billy. They were night and day personified and that was probably one of the reasons why Billy felt the need to make Steve’s life a living hell. That and the fact that he just could.

There were few things Billy didn’t get away with, which was irritating to Annie. If there was one thing she hated more than people breaking the rules, it was people who allowed those rules to be broken.

Billy was a boy of average height and stocky build with blonde hair that fell just below his neck in an unkempt sort of way that could only be described as deliberate. His trademark was his acid-washed denim jacket and sun-kissed skin that had spent years under the California rays.

That was probably one of the reasons most of the girls at Hawkins High were enamored by him. A west coast boy with above average looks and a devil-may-care attitude to boot? They couldn’t get enough of him. Another factor that seemed to piss Steve off to no end. A very small portion of that could be jealousy, Annie deduced. Being envious of the same sex’s appearance wasn’t limited to only girls. But mostly she knew he was just baffled by all the attention he got.

Because Billy was an asshole.

“I know,” Annie said calmly, shaking off her jitters. “He’s just trying to get under your skin. I wouldn’t worry about him.”

“Hard not to,” Steve countered. “He’s fucking everywhere.”

The bell rang and Annie tugged on the crook of Steve’s arm with an encouraging smile.

“C’mon, let’s go to class. We can get ice cream after.”

Steve let her lead him down the hall with a reluctant half-smile and for the moment Billy Hargrove and Nancy Wheeler were only distant worries.

* * *

not a yes sir, not a follower

fit the box, fit the mold

have a seat in the foyer

take a number

i was lightning before the thunder.

“Did you do the math homework?”

“Is that even a question, Steve?”

Steve grinned despite himself.

“Overachiever,” he said fondly. Annie laughed as she moved forward in the lunch line and grabbed a clean tray from the pile.

“’Overachiever’ doesn’t mean someone who does work that’s required of them,” she said humorously. “That’s just a basic achiever.”

“Whatever,” Steve brushed her comment off, though his eyes were sparkling. He grabbed a tray of his own and placed it on the counter, sliding down the line as he gazed down at the steaming food with a scrunched nose. “What is this?”

“Pork I think,” Annie surveyed the heaping pile of brown goo in front of them with trepidation. Did pork usually have that much gravy?

“Beef stew,” one of the lunch ladies glowered at Annie, insulted with her assumption. Annie flushed and she heard Steve snicker next to her. The woman held a spoonful of the liquid up in question and Annie tried to smile through her embarrassed cringe.

“I’m a vegetarian,” she lied, trying to sound polite.

The woman rolled her eyes and grunted before slapping the chunky serving onto Steve’s plate instead. He grimaced but quickly covered it up with an overzealous smile that made Annie want to laugh too.

They continued moving down the line, holding their plates out for various side dishes that were offered to them.

“So, about that math homework,” Steve prompted as they neared the register, flashing his brown eyes at her. Annie pursed her lips at her best friend but ultimately caved, shoulders slumping.

“Fine, you can copy it,” she relented, trying and failing to sound disapproving. She lifted a finger. “But just this once. Maybe you should look into finding a tutor.”

“I hear you’re free,” Steve suggested with a mischievous grin.

“Suddenly my schedule’s all booked up,” Annie retorted. Steve huffed a laugh through his nose. “Aw man,” Annie frowned, eyes scanning the refrigerated shelves in front of her. “They don’t have any more oranges.”

“Health freak,” Steve quipped.

“Says the athlete with the low carb diet,” she fired right back. Steve stuck his tongue out at her.

Annie grinned to herself. He was in much higher spirits lately despite the continued rockiness of his and Nancy’s relationship, or lack thereof. She was relieved to see his chipper side returning, stewing silently in his renowned energy. She wasn’t sure but she had a theory that him spending more time with the kids – Dustin, Caleb, and Nancy’s younger brother, Mike – were the root cause of his improved mood.

“Does this look low carb to you?” he motioned to the vile brown liquid seeping into his side of macaroni.

“That doesn’t look like anything edible,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “I should’ve packed my lunch today. I really wish they had oranges. I wanted an orange.”

“I’ll buy you an orange later to make up for the homework,” Steve said, sounding both exasperated and amused. Annie smiled proudly.

She was getting ready to be next at the register and she got her money ready to hand to the lady waiting, only to feel someone saddle up next to her and ultimately cut her in line.

A scowl pulled at Annie’s brow and she opened her mouth to retaliate, only to have the objections die in her throat at the sight of who it was that cut her.

Billy Hargrove was smiling at the lunch lady, seemingly oblivious to the fact that he marched himself to the front of the line with no disregard for courtesy. Her eyes flitted downward and her scowl deepened. He had an orange in his hand.

Whilst Annie remained stubbornly quiet, Steve had no reserves and he glared venomously at the curly-haired boy.

“Hey,” he snapped, leaning around Annie to get a view of the boy. “Get to the back of the line, man.”

“I’m sorry, do you hear something?” Billy asked, apparently to the lunch lady as his gaze didn’t waver from hers, tapping his ear in false curiosity. “It’s like this weird buzzing sound.”

“Nice one, dipshit,” Steve retorted. “Real mature.”

“Language,” the woman admonished without much heat. Steve gave her a slack-jawed look.

“Sorry, ma’am, I just wanted to let you know that I can’t pay today,” Billy said, voice pleasant. The act was so convincing that Annie could almost believe he wasn’t a terror to be around. The woman narrowed her eyes at him, obviously displeased.

“This is the third time this week, Billy.”

“I know. I just need one more day. I’m only getting this,” he held the orange up. He smiled charmingly again. “Please?”

His blue eyes glittered like the ocean and apparently not even the older women could resist his rugged allure. She sighed in defeat.

“Alright, tomorrow then.”

“Thank you, ma’am. I sure do appreciate it,” he gave her one last winning smile before turning to face Steve. The once amiable, school b0y smile transformed into something more poisonous. Steve held his ground, accepting the stare-off and Annie glanced between the two of them warily, once again afraid of all the potential fights that could ensue, but Billy broke the gaze before any of them could play out. He looked down at her and smirked easily, outstretching the orange. “Here, sweetheart.”

Annie stared at the orange for a full five seconds before cautiously accepting it. Billy bestowed her with another wink and his eyes flashed sharply up at Steve whose glare could melt skin before he turned on his heel and waltzed off, ever the image of satisfaction and arrogance. The intense musk of his cologne hit Annie on the back end and for a second she couldn’t think straight, only able to shake herself out of her stupor when Steve sniffed next to her.

“He’s doing this on purpose,” Steve muttered, eyes dark and murderous. “He’s fucking with you to fuck with me. Asshole.”

“Language, Mister Harrington.”

Annie quickly handed the woman her money when the woman prompted her with an impatient look. She waited for Steve to pay for his food and then followed him to a nearby table that didn’t have any other students. They sat down across from one another and Annie realized Steve’s mood had turned sour from the encounter.

“Fucking Billy,” he glanced over his shoulder across the room and spotted Nancy sitting closely with Jonathan Byers, murmuring conspiratorially to him and sitting closer than necessary. He turned back around. “Fucking Nancy.”

“I’m sorry, Steve,” Annie said for lack of anything better. She stared down at the orange, turning it over in her hands.

Weird.

#billy hargrove #dacre montgomery #billy hargrove imagine #stranger things imagine #billy hargrove x reader

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passern · 4 years ago

Text

DECLARATION OF LAWSUIT

Wed. Oct. 19, 2020 10:10am

THE PRESIDENT OF DEFENSE COUNCIL FOR THE STATE OF NEBRASKA IN 2009 TOLD ME THERE IS PLAUSIBLE CASE FOR A LAWSUIT HERE. “GET AN OUT OF STATE ATTORNEY AND SUE THEM. I DON’T WANT TO. I LIVE HERE. YOU WILL WIN.”

AT PRESENT, I HAVE NO WHERE-WITH-ALL TO GATHER THE REST OF THE NEEDED INFORMATION TO ADVANCE.

THERE IS A STUBBORN ENTITY THAT IS A DISCOURAGING NUISANCE. IT IS MAKING THE COMMUNICATIONS OF INTERAREA LIVING IMPOSSIBLE FOR ME TO COMPILE AND PRESENT ALL THE NEEDED CASE MATERIAL BEFORE THE PROPER MAGISTRATE.

THE FACTS ARE DEFINITIVE. THE DOCUMENTED CONTRACTS ARE FALSIFIED | NOT UNISON AND NOT NEAR THE CONTENT MEANING OF THE ORIGINAL.

IF: “ANY AND ALL ENTRIES BETWEEN MR.PASSERIN AND THE OFFICER—BETWEEN THE MOMENT HE WAS TOLD TO TALK TO THEM BY THE THIRD PARTY AND THE OFFICER AND THE START OF TRIAL—WERE CONSIDERED NULL AND VOID TO PROSECUTE ANYONE BUT HIMSELF”

● THERE WAS NO SLANDER

● NO CHARACTER DEFAMATION

● NO COOPERATING FURTHER WITH THE POLICE IN ANY REGARDS

IF THERE IS ANY INFORMATION OR PROF THEREOF THAT INDICATES OTHERWISE, THEN THE ABOVE TERMS HAVE NOT BEEN MET. THIS NEEDS ADDRESSED. NEBRASKA HAS BEEN CONTACTED. THE FEDERAL GOVERNMENT HAS BEEN CONTACTED. MONTGOMERY COUNTY DETECTIVES AND ATTORNEY HAVE NOT, THIS HAS BEEN DIFFICULT TO ADDRESS FOR SOME REASON.

NOT THE NEBRASKA POLICE FORCE, THE FEDERAL GOVERNMENT, THE PENNSYLVANIA POLICE FORCE, CALIFORNIA OF ANY OTHER ENTITY SHOULD BE ABLE TO HARRAS OR GIVE MR. PASSERIN GRIEF OVER THIS INCIDENT.

HAVE YOU OR ANYONE YOU KNOW BEEN AFFECTED BY THE ENCLOSED INFORMATION? ARE YOU OR ANYONE YOU KNOW ABLE OR WILLING TO PARTICIPATE IN A LAWSUIT?

REGARDS,

JASON PASSERIN

[email protected]

In 1999 I started a landscaping company. I did alright with it. About three years before I learned how to bid jobs and get permits, fuel prices went up and I took three big losses. Standing at a fuel pump at a Hess station, the price was $2.84 and rising strong. It was then that I decided to write termination letters to my customers and close down to narrow down the field of work I offered.

California’s atmosphere was nice at first, though it was a disaster from the start. It is not as friendly as it feels nice to be there. Soon the nice feeling wore off and was replaced with a sort of violent ignorance. The opposite of selflessness was replaced with stubborn possession. The wrong mood. The wrong atmosphere. There is some more in my post script.

Since then I moved here, back to California and then here again. Before my recent arrival here, I had been incarcerated at Pleasant Valley. During all the chaos during 2013 I was pulled over with a loaded pistol while on probation. At that moment I was waiting to find my ex-landlord to return it to. Living off the grid most of the time without something to scare away the animals was not a good idea. I had almost been eaten on more than one account.

In California in 2006, my first job was to clear a plot of land to the land owners request and install a fence. One rainy morning I was packing the truck. I felt something in the wind that told me to bring my rifle or I would be eaten alive. The rifle would have been one more heavy item on top of the materials that I would then have to pack to the site in the rain when I got there, so I left it. Soon after we started on the fence line a guest appeared.

A very large mountain cat, crouched and stalking to pounce about ten yards away helped me make my mind up. If ever I leave the pavement with no other way of warding off animals, I would never leave a firearm behind again.

When I returned to Eureka from Pleasant Valley, I had three years on probation. Most of which I stayed in the city limits so as not to wander off and lose track of time. I was able to stay in a somewhat nice halfway home for a few months with my rent paid by probation. It was not easy to find work, even with my resume. People would look at it and say I would hire you, but I can’t. So I spent the rest of the time homeless and left as soon as I was allowed.

If the court house does not open, I won’t be able to pass a background check. I have a failure to appear that was not cleared up before the Coronavirus closed everything. Not being able to pass a background check, I can’t get a job.

My mother was struggling with her home and I wanted to see if I could help her. I got a loan for her to keep and repair the house, but she turned it down. It would have left enough afterwards to make the payments for a year or two without being out of pocket. It then could have been placed up for sale at full value. She must not have been that bad off.

The entire year of 2012 to 2013 I was being threatened, my mother’s life was being threatened. Seemed like a phone hacker with an impressive PA system and forgist impersonator. Many threats along the lines of “We are going to kill your mother. We have impostered her long enough to have taken most of her finances. She will lose her home. Angel has cut her finger off that had her mom’s ring is on while she lay dead in the mourg and is flaunting it around, call her and see.”

I called her to see. Mom said she would send me the ring in question. That was odd. It was a family heirloom to her. She would not take it off her hand let alone put it in the mail. Right away I thought it was not my mother on the other end of the phone. A ring arrived. It was not the ring from the conversation. It looked like trouble. I threw it away over my shoulder in the cabin I stood in that moment and did not look back. At that moment I figured her for the imposter. The imposter that I and she had been threatened with that year.

Somewhere I heard this ring was stolen. There was a lot of “stolen jewelry” turning up around there. Some of the same jewelry that hung around the neck of my grandmother I used to teeth on as a young person, from my mother’s jewelry box. 24k Italian gold locket, two necklaces, both with my teeth marks still in them. I kept those in my property. When I got to my property to look, they had been replaced with something different.

(Remember .... told me that some “stank hoe” was sizing up your jewelry with ...... and jumped out your bedroom window with some of it. You were not the only one. Later that year I showed up at your place to show you a bunch of jewelry to look through to see if you could identify any of it. I found five pieces of my grandmother’s jewelry from my mom’s collection in it. My favorite pieces. Last seen next to a safe that went missing with $120,000.00 in it. Soon after, I returned the stuff to question all the residents at the same time.)

I am learning to type and am optimistic that the computer may be a field of study for me in the future. That is good considering my health is not always going to be the best.

My life has not been near what I am used to. I was counting the days to get here to clean and remove any and all trace evidence of 2012 to 2013. The most offensive and uninteresting years of my life. I still feel victimized from it. Not ever do I desire to live like that again. People, places and things, my work is laid out before me. Everything I laid on, laid with someone on, and or wore all had to get thrown out. I even ripped up the carpet and scrubbed the walls. If I could have ripped out the drywall just in case, I would have. Then put all of it in a pile and set it on fire.

I have heard rumors out here that when I got arrested in Nebraska the police and some unnamed female of Paul Hume or with P. Hume ID did not follow their word. Looking through my old files I found enough plausible documentation to present a lawsuit towards Kearney & Lincoln County Nebraska.

Before I left California in 07’ my neighbor Kim from Swayback told me: “You are going to get pulled over. Just do as they tell you when they reach out to you and you won’t lose anything. You might not go to jail.”

Entering a construction zone near Kearney Ne., I almost get run off the road by an older sedan going ten miles over the speed limit with something leering from the taillights. Ahead of this were two state troopers. As the sedan approached the construction zone the state troopers noted it was speeding. I saw the one start his car and put it in drive. He did not take his eyes off the car, until it cut me off, depressed the brake, the brake-lights came on and the leer from the taillights reached my rental truck. It was odd at that moment since I was not speeding that they took their focus off them to look at me. The officer would not break eye contact from me from that moment forward.

They pulled me over. Standing in front of Officer Frye 8795 or 8973 I noticed he heard the same thing I heard. He says: “Just do as that female told you. Make something up. I won’t hold you or anyone to it. I will honor what that female is telling you and let you go in five minutes.” The moment he acknowledged the female Paul Hume’s voice, he acknowledged taking part in an orchestrated, organized crime act—Not what I ever wanted for myself in any regards.

The female sounded off a lot. I have never heard anything like that before. So clear and direct. Like a laser beam. I heard her say “Lie, make something up, be creative. They won’t hold you to it. Just keep them talking for ten minutes and they will let you go. I need cover for...” It became a little difficult to hear the rest: “We are sanctioned to... Please ignore... We do this all the time...” I never heard any speech of communication without seeing someone’s lips move.

The officer was not all the way honest about his intentions. However, in my paperwork appeared “Any and all information obtained is null and void at possible fault of yours and becomes useless except against you only if you stop cooperating, run or turn yourself in. You may face a stronger penalty” (I have seen in my hand at one time, four duplicates of this document. None of them are the same in content). I knew how to manage this situation at this moment. Just run up their expenses and man hours, then burn them leaving them an inept non-witness with nothing to use towards anyone but me, as described.

Nothing I said or did between my arrest and start of trial was valid in any court of law. Somewhere that seems not to be so to someone. Perhaps a criminal, a cop or both that can not decide which to make of their involvement, an arrest, a cover up or both. There is a leek of faulted information. There is a third party that was using every bit of my actions as research on something that I don’t want to declare; separation of...names, street names, people, tunnels, bridges, it all is relevant.

In my papers was a close, not accurate version of that paper. None of the copies of that document were exact in wording of content, not even close. It did not contain what my original contained. I highlighted the areas of error and had it notarized. Then sent it to the county attorney in Lincoln Ne., with my informal notice of intent to bring suit. Failure to supply unison copied documentation, failure to follow their own stipulations, and slander. The Head of the Defense Council at the time, my attorney, told me there was a lawsuit here, but to find an out of state attorney he had had to live there. I did not follow through for suing Nebraska for the time served after my exonerated sentence.

There was a lawsuit in the Puget Sound for $19 million against the Fed. I think this one is worth $21-29 MILLION for some reason—similarities. If all the people involved were not so interested in harming each other. I would have already had some progress.

Regards,

JASON PASSERIN

[email protected]

P.S. This is a postscript I sent to Cynthia, my neighbor and one of the first persons I met upon my arrival in Mad River, Ca.

P.S. Do you remember in June of 07’ on a Sunday afternoon? You and Greg pulled up in the Suburban. Woody and I were outside loading the truck. It sounded like a gunshot. Then something like a mountain lion—almost but not—crying in the distance. Almost two full months in August I was forced off the road leaving the rodeo. I woke up part way with Joe over me holding a bottle of Lord Calvert as if he were pouring it down my throat; eyewitness told me similar. One week later a boxer and his three female companions ran off the road in the same spot. I think they hit the lake instead of the tree like Danielle, Kim and I. I started to feel an unnatural closeness to him and someone’s mom that week. Those woods out there can be strange. Take care out there. It is good to know you both. Thanks for the hospitality.

I used to live in Ohio. An at one time friend came to my home when I was not there. Asked me to do something that I should not have. I heard in his voice “bad news” and I ignored it. I lost my house that week. That was in 99’. I don’t think I have seen him much if at all since. Don’t very much want to. Last I considered him my friend. About a year before that I got pulled over with him in the back seat of my car, sounding off to something that I believe attracted the police.

I used to get cut on in my sleep in that house in Ohio. In between 98’-07’ I can’t total the number of people with the same ID that have cut on me. It was bad news. (What do you think they were taking and how did this victimize me) Many of the people, that I haven’t mentioned their name, use the same name inside, even when they don’t say it. He uses that name outside. That’s how he would introduce himself. Stinks to be him. Huh? *Subconscious impressions made with every slice*

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13imagineswhy-blog · 8 years ago

Text

For Your Love || Jeff Atkins x Asexual!Reader

I’m glad you asked, because I’ve seen a few imagines with asexual readers and I noticed a repeat of something that really bothered me. Always by the end, they were magically cured by ‘the one’. Like, no. If that’s someone’s sexual orientation, or lack thereof, they’re not going to change it for one person. If people truly desire our asexual cupcakes, they’re not going to constantly be trying to convert them.

Word Count: 1,174

Warnings: Mild Bullying, Sexual Dialogues

You had thought your relationship was going well. Marcus Cole, straight-A student and President of the Honor Board, was what most would consider a perfect gentleman. He would hold open doors for you, carry around your bags; basically, treat you like you always thought guys should treat their girlfriends. But it was on the night of the back-to-school Winter Formal that you saw him for who he truly was.

The two of you had just taken a break from dancing to go grab some punch. Upon hearing from Montgomery that it'd been spiked, you stuck to grabbing a soda, watching Marcus pick through the large platters of snacks with a frown.

"Hey, do you want to get out of here?" he asked, nodding towards the door. "We could go back to my place and hang."

“Are you not having a good time?" you responded.

He shot you that that sly smirk, never failing to melt your heart. "I just thought maybe we could have a little bit more if we were alone."

The smile that had begun to itch across your face faded quickly, replaced by a concern that furrowed your brows and forced you to cast your eyes downward. "Can't we stay longer? I wanted to ask Tony if he could get some slow songs playing."

You felt Marcus's hands slide around your hips, drawing you against his chest—what might have been comforting under normal circumstances, but now it just served to make your stomach twist with nerves. "Come on, Y/N. You know you can trust me." He leaned down, teeth nipping at your ear. "I'll be gentle."

You shoved your hands against his chest, scrambling backwards a few feet. "Wait! I really need to tell you something."

"What?" he asked, sounding, and looking, pretty offended.

"I'm asexual," you said quickly. "It's not like I don't like you, I really do. It's just... I don't enjoy sex like that."

He seemed taken aback for a moment, before finally clearing his throat to speak. "So you don't think we'd be having sex any time in the nearby future?"

"I'd rather if we didn't," you replied, feeling as if your chest was rattling with broken glass. "We could still have a good relationship together."

"Look, Y/N," he began. "You're a gorgeous girl. I mean, every guy in this school wants you, and plenty hate me for being the one you chose. I just don't think you're ever going to find someone who'll keep you if you keep holding out like this."

You stared at him in shock. "Wh-what?"

He patted your shoulder, shaking his head sadly. "This just isn't going to work out between us. When you get over this phase, or whatever this is, call me, okay?"

"What the hell, Marcus?" you asked, voice raising. "Did you only start dating me to get in my pants?"

Heads had turned from the crowd, people poking other people in the sides to draw their attention over. Marcus had turned a light red, glaring down at you for calling him out in front of everyone.

"Like you didn't start dating me just to get brownie points towards your school record," he snapped.

"I started dating you because I thought you were the one person who would understand that there are more important things than sex!" you cried.

"You're just a prude freak," he replied, his voice breaking with anger.

A few of his friends, who had grouped together near the front of the crowd, snickered quietly. One punched Marcus on the shoulder, telling him to let it go. Another claiming that he had something that could open up those legs.

You felt tears stinging at the corners of your eyes, their words squeezing around your neck like a tightly knotted rope. You tore through them, racing out of the gym and down the hall. You didn't stop until you had pushed open the door to the girls' bathroom and collapsed against the wall, knees drawn to your chest and wetness streaming down your cheeks.

To think you had once told yourself you loved him.

Barely a few minutes had dragged by when you heard the door creak open. You looked up, surprised to see the tall, broad figure of Jeff Atkins slipping inside. His hair was moused into a swoopy, black wave, white tuxedo crisp and perfectly tailored.

"Can I come in?" he asked.

You shrugged. "I guess. If you want to hang out with a prude freak."

"Fuck Marcus," he said. "You're not prude, and you're definitely not a freak. Last time I checked, you were just Y/N, and that's fine with me."

He moved to sit down next to you. At closer glance, you could see he had replaced his normal white studs with a pair of snowflakes. You laughed, making him turn his head to smile at you.

"What's up with the earrings?" you asked.

"I'm being festive," he replied, motioning at the matching pattern on the hem of your dress. "And twinning with you, apparently."

"Looks like fate wanted us to meet each other in this bathroom," you said with a soft sigh. "You don't have to waste your night with me, you know."

"Assuming that any of my time spent with you is wasted." He placed his hand over yours, bringing it into his lap. "My night is already ten times better."

You brushed away a stray tear, trying to pull away. "We won't work out. It never does."

"Why?" he asked, tightening his grip. "You're an asexual. So what? That's not something that matters to me."

"You say that now, but imagine if we somehow managed to make it out of high school. Years from now. I'm not opposed to the idea of sex some time in a long term relationship, but I'm not going to be able to be sexually attracted to you. Are you willing to live your life like that?" you responded.

You could tell by the expression on his face that he was seriously considering this. You were just bracing yourself for him to stand up and walk out when he gave a nod.

"Yes."

"Jeff, are you sure?" You turned to face him, sitting back on your heels. "This isn't a joke."

He nodded again. "Yes. I am one hundred percent positive. I'm not sure if this is a little too early or not, but I think I'm in love with you."

You laughed. "What?"

"No, I'm serious," he replied, lunging forwards to scoop you into his arms. He pulled you in for a hug, resting his head on your shoulder in a maternal kind of way. "I was pissed when you started dating Marcus. Ask Clay. He's the one who watched me purposely tear book pages every time I had to turn them."

You felt yourself relaxing against him. "Wow, okay. That's certainly something."

He gave a low chuckle. "Do you want to go back to the dance?"

"Yeah," you whispered.

For once, you had a feeling your relationship actually was going to work out.

#Jeff #Jeff Atkins #13 reasons why #13rw #imagines #imagine #x reader #asexual!reader #fluff

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montgomerydentalmd · 6 years ago

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kindar-life · 7 years ago

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The Lord Tiranis, An Origin, Part 2 (1st half) (an excerpt)

Tiranis is a world of humans and furries, of super science and super powers, of ordinary people and extraordinary ones. Stories of the Past is a series of stories exploring the history of the city of Tiranis, as well as the world it exist in or something people of importance in it. This is excerpt is about 1100 word of a 8,800 word chapter. You can read the full story, as well as other stories set in the world of Tiranis by joining my Patreon at the 1$ level: https://www.patreon.com/posts/14744722

A story of the past

The air in the prefabricated building was humid. LRK didn't need to see the water beading on the face of the human before him, or the sheen it created on the technicians' fur at the consoles to know it. The air felt thick with it around him. The air conditioning unit barely removed any of it. His own fur was dry. He didn't let the humidity touch him. He could have dried the while room with a thought, pushed it out the door, made everyone comfortable, not just himself, but he didn't. He wasn't going to do anything to make the man before him comfortable. If he had to suffer through dealing with General Montgomery Johns, the man himself could suffer too. "Well?" the man asked, his old sagging skin giving him an almost comical look. "How many are there?" LRK didn't growl, or even snarl. He'd like to see him try to count individual soldiers two kilometers away just by the increased water density. "I'd say about five hundred of them, sir." "About?" the man glared at him, "Soldier, when I ask for a count, I don't want to hear 'about' anywhere in the answer. I want an exact number." The human was never happy with what any of them did. And of the Anthros, but especially the Specialists. Ever since he'd landed, two months ago and replaced the base commander, he'd been putting the seven of them to the test, constantly. He turned to the rabbit at a console. "How many are there?" "Five hundred and twenty-three," she answered after reading the display. The human turned to LRK and grinned. "See how easy that was? She isn't special like you and she was able to give me an exact number." The lynx made fists just as thunder sounded in the distance. "Now," the general said. "Tell me what they can do." "Excuse me?" "You heard me soldier. There's like the lot of you, freaks, so tell me what they can do so I'll know how to deal with them." "Sir," LRK began, barely managing to keep the growl out of his voice. "I can feel the water in their body. I can tell you where they are, how fast they are moving, but I have no way to know if they are Specialists, and if so, what they can do." The human glared at him, his gray eyes gleaming with anger. "Then why the hell are you here?" "I'm here, sir, because you ordered me to come. If what you wanted was to know what they could do, you should have brought Peek, or Rhine along. One can read their minds, the other can infiltrate their ranks to get the information." "Watch your tone soldier. It's sounding a lot to me like you're being disrespectful of a superior officer." LRK gritted his teeth. "Never, sir." "That's better. You'd better remember who made you. I can have you dismantled with one word." "Yes, sir," LEK answered through teeth that wouldn't move. The general moved along the wall, checking the readout on one screen, then the other. He nodded or gave quiet commands to the Anthros seated there. He moved to another one, glanced up and frowned at LRK. "What are you still doing here? You're useless, so get out. You're dismissed." LRK gave the general a crisp salute, turned and stepped out of the hastily assembled building. A week they'd been here, preparing for the coming skirmish with the enemy army. A week away from the base camp, being ordered to do things he couldn't. This wasn't the first time the general had demanded the impossible. The moment they'd arrived here, he'd ordered LRK to kill the enemy soldiers. LRK had stared at him, looking for the words to explain how impossible that was. He couldn't even feel them yet, their intel placed them at over two hundred kilometers away, nowhere near his range. And even if they had been close enough, they were in a forest this time, not by a lake or the ocean. He had nothing to use to drown them. The general hadn't been happy. LRK entered the small building he occupied with VeeDee and stood there as the door closed behind him. This camp had been build with sturdier materials, the general wouldn't accept tents for his mission. With a yell he shoved the humidity in the room against the wall, causing it to splash, then drip to the floor. "Feel better?" the bull lying on the cot asked. "No," the lynx growled. He looked at the puddles and pushed them out, under the door. "Why the hell did he want me here if all he's going to do is go on about how useless I am? Didn't he read my file? My capabilities and limits are clearly indicated in it." VeeDee patted the other cot, which they'd pushed together on their first night here. Neither cared that the general didn't want any fraternization within his units. "Come on, lie down with me. A snuggle will make you feel better." "I doubt, LRK answered, but he lied down, pressing against the bull, who placed an arm under him and held him. "I know how you feel. He's forbidden me from going out with the scouts. When I asked why he blew up, told me not to question him when he gave me orders or he's going to have me dismantled. Like he thinks I'm just some sort of machine he can throw away. We lost thirty-two good soldiers in the last four days because of his decision. When I told him I couldn't do anything for the bodies that were brought back, he glared at me, called me useless and stormed off." "Why the hell is he even here? General Batista was stern, but at least he respected us. It's like this guy doesn't even know how to command." "Who knows why officers come and go?" "Can you do something to him?" "Hmm?" "You know, give him indigestion, or hemorrhoids?" The bull laughed. "Come on, you know I can't do that. I heal." "You control bodies. You've only used that to heal, but it can't be the limit. I'm sure you can do more." "Why don't you just drown him? There's enough water in the air for you to fill his lungs." LRK shook his head. "Everyone would know it was me. Your power is subtle. No one would know." VeeDee chuckled and held him tighter. "Okay, I'll get right on that once we're done with this mission and back at the base camp." He was silent for a moment. "At least his anger sent you back here. This box is much more comfortable with you around." He kissed the top of the lynx's head.

#Excerpt #Tiranis #patreon

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