#aftermath fic

[sorinethemastermind]

Aftermath

In which Corvus searches for Soren in the aftermath of Katolis' destruction.

 They had fled to the forest while the fire consumed their homes, hoping that the trees would shelter them from the gaze of the rampaging dragon up above. The woods had obliged, but they did not feel welcoming as they usually did. Even now, nearly a day after the attack, the wildlife had not returned and the trees were eerily silent. Smoke hung heavy in the air.

 King Ezran had insisted that they ride directly back, and so they had; riding hard through the day and into the night. Now, as dawn’s light began to peek through the leaves above, Corvus took in what remained of the people of Katolis. Battered and bruised at best, and at worst… Corvus didn’t want to think about that. Especially when he had yet to find him.

 He knew Soren. Knew that his fellow Crownguard would have pushed someone out of the way of an oncoming blast without a second thought. Some might call it bravery, and it was, but Corvus knew that it was also something else. And that was what made him worried. 

 He hadn’t wanted to leave the king’s side, not when the castle still smoldered on the hill above them and the dragon could be anywhere. But Ezran had insisted that he go and help where he could; had said that he and Opeli would be fine on their own, if only for a little while. And then the pair of them had disappeared further into the camp to offer what aid they could to those who needed it most. By the way the king looked at him before he left, Corvus thought that perhaps he knew.

 And so Corvus had gone first to the hastily erected tent that was now serving as a hospital. It had been filled to capacity; understaffed and in need of assistance. He had offered help where he could; changing a bandage here, fetching something there. All the while keeping his eyes open for Soren, who had undoubtedly thrown himself directly into the line of fire. But despite the many guards filling the tent, their armor dented and smeared with blood and soot, Soren was not among them.

 Everyone seemed to have seen him, but no one knew where he was. One guard said that he had been on the wall when the dragon attacked. Another said he had been in the courtyard, helping a trapped civilian. One even said they’d seen him enveloped by dragon fire.

 Corvus pushed through the thought and the flaps of the tent and out into the steadily growing light. The man had probably been mistaken. Or, perhaps, if he wasn’t…

 Corvus didn’t have the heart to check the mortuary, yet.

 He wouldn’t be in the hospital, Corvus rationalized. He would be out on patrol, busying himself with one task or another. Helping where he could, as he himself was supposed to be doing. But Corvus couldn’t focus on anything so long as he didn’t know where he was. Everytime the flaps of the tent had opened to admit someone in need of assistance he had forgotten what he was doing to look up, holding onto the hope that it would be Soren coming in from the encampment, battered but still smiling.

 He walked through the forest, scanning every gathering of survivors for the familiar slope of Soren’s shoulders and the stoic smile he knew he’d be wearing. But, though he did manage to spot a few fellow Crownguards, his friend wasn’t among them. 

 Corvus’s feet carried him to the edge of the wood, where it led up to the castle, smoke still rising from it’s demolished parapets. Some of the rubble had fallen down the side and littered the forest floor. His breath caught in his throat as he knelt down to pick up a small chunk of masonry. The castle may not have always been his home, but it had been becoming one. 

 “Corvus?”

 The voice was weary and raw, but Corvus would have known it anywhere. He spun to the side, staring up the path that led to the remains of Katolis. There was blood in Soren’s hair and drying onto his face armor, and he was smeared with soot and dirt. But it was him. 

 He gave Corvus a weak smile. “I thought you were supposed to be eating cake and dancing or something.”

 Corvus ignored him, crossing the distance between them in a few steps and throwing his arms around his friend. Soren stumbled back a step, arms going out in surprise for a moment before they closed around him in return. 

 “I’m glad you’re here.” he mumbled into Corvus’ shoulder. 

 “Me too.”

 Soren’s grip tightened around him and Corvus heard his breath hitch. Pulling back, he looked up at his friend. 

 “You’re hurt.” Corvus’ gaze drifted up to Soren’s hairline, where fresh blood continued to ooze from a gash on his forehead.

 “It’s just a scratch. I’ve had worse.”

 “You’re going to get an infection.”

 “I’m fine.” Soren assured him.

 “I’m going to get something. Stay here.” Corvus turned to go, but Soren’s hand caught his wrist before he had taken more than a few steps.

 “Don’t go.”

 Corvus paused, turned back. The smile flickered back onto Soren’s face as he looked.

 “I, uh. They need the supplies more.” 

 Corvus hesitated.

 “Please.” Soren said.

 He stayed. 

 They sat on one of the larger pieces of rubble that had reached the forest floor, leaning against each other for support. Corvus could feel Soren’s hair tickling his cheek. He reached up to brush it back behind the other man’s ear and his fingers came away sticky and tinged with red.

 “Soren.” he said, looking down at his hands with concern, then back to his friend. “Please let me look at that.”

 “We don’t have many supplies.” He replied. “The others need it more.”

 Corvus knew this wasn’t a fight he’d win. He sighed. “Then we’ll make supplies.”

 Before Soren could argue he stood, turning to face him again, and tilted his friend’s head up so he could see the wound more clearly. Soren stared up at him, their eyes locking. But Corvus wouldn’t be distracted. Tilting the other man’s head to the side, he inspected the gash more closely. 

 It wasn’t especially deep, thankfully. But there were bits of debris in it that were stopping it from healing properly. 

 “Hold still.” Corvus instructed, taking off his scarf and wrapping one end around his hand. “This is going to sting a little bit.”

 “I can handle- Ow.” Soren hissed. 

 “I told you.” Corvus did his best to be gentle; carefully using the fabric to dab at the wound until it seemed mostly cleaned. “There. Better?”

 “I mean, you just spent a while poking it, so not really.”

 Corvus shook his head. “You’ll thank me later.”

 Taking the clean part of the scarf, he wrapped it around Soren’s head a few times before tying it into a knot at the back. “There. Now you have a bandage.”

 “I think you mean a bandana.”

 “No. I mean a bandage.” Corvus fussed with the scarf again, worried it would come loose. “Just don’t play with it, okay? It might come undone and then-”

 Soren reached up and placed his hand over Corvus’, holding it to the side of his head. “Okay.”

 Corvus looked down at his friend of two years. It was hard to reconcile the man before him with the same one who had hit him with a rock, tied him up, and called him a traitor. He had come so far. Corvus wanted to tell him how proud he was but couldn’t find the words.

 “Okay.” he replied, waiting for Soren to drop his hand. But he didn’t.

 “Okay.” he repeated instead, standing up, hand still clasped over Corvus’. They were eye to eye now, faces just inches apart. Corvus leaned in, and he kissed him. 

 It was stupid, really. A really stupid thing to do. Stupider than any nickname Soren had tried to give him over the years. In his surprise, Soren had dropped his hand, and Corvus tried to take it back, beginning to step away. 

 “I’m sorry.” he began, feeling clumsier than he ever had. He backed away, nearly tripping over a chunk of masonry.  “I didn’t mean to-”

 Soren stepped forward, hands clasping around his waist, and pulled him close again. “Well, I do.” he said, and he kissed him again. For real, this time, hands tightening across his back as he held him.

 After a long moment they broke apart, and Corvus looked at his friend. No, more than his friend. Soren’s eyes seemed to sparkle and he smiled. A real one, this time.

 “Hey, that’s not part of your Crownguard duties.”

 They jumped away from each other, both of them nearly falling backwards over the chunks of debris that still littered the floor. Ezran stood a few steps away, one eyebrow raised playfully in their direction.

 “Oh, yeah. So, uh… This... this is a thing now.” Soren gestured between the pair of them, then paused, looking at Corvus. When he didn’t disagree, Soren nodded. “Yeah, this is a thing now.”

[ficbrish]

ME4: Aftermath Chapter 2

"Awakening" [AO3]

Rating: Explicit, 18+ only

Tags: Post-Reaper War, Destroy Ending (Mass Effect), Shepard Survives (Mass Effect), Biotic Shepard (Mass Effect), Colonist (Mass Effect), War Hero (Mass Effect), Sentinel (Mass Effect), Paragade (Mass Effect), Novel, Slow To Update, POV Alternating, Plot, Established Relationship, Queerplatonic Relationships, Eventual Relationships, Adventure & Romance, Fluff and Humor, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Grief/Mourning, Found Family, Rebuilding, Reunions, Canon-Typical Violence, Dorks in Love, I Will Go Down With This Ship

[[TW/CW: Grief, pet death, hospitals, alcohol, pills, panic attacks, mentions of genitals]]

[Previous Chapter]

[All Chapters]

It was impossible to stop searching for Shepard.

Everywhere he turned, Kaidan looked for her. He felt obsessive walking through the Normandy these days. 

Is this how she'd felt back then? Walking these same halls and entering these same rooms, hoping to find him; knowing it was impossible?

He’d made her feel that way. If she’d felt that way.

And then there were those six months Shepard spent all alone in that little room on Earth. That last full year of her life, and he hadn't been there. In Vancouver!

He had no excuse.

He could have been there. He even had been there, just not to see her. Well, except that one time... But words were said and they both got ugly, so that didn't count. If only he hadn't been such an ass! They had the chance to talk and truly resolve things all that time ago, had time, but he had to be so… Work had been the excuse he held onto, forced himself to stick to, as it had been in so many other situations, but he could have chosen differently. He could have!

He’d even had her in front of him a year ago; arms open, inviting him to come along on Horizon. Kaidan rejected her then too. But he still got her back! Shepard had stolen away from Cerberus just to be with him, risking everything. She'd been in his embrace and shared his bed. Just a few days. The best few days of his life. But he had to go and blame her for the Batarians after that! Left her alone with all those lives heavy on her soul...

Kaidan mentally kicked himself. He couldn’t have lost her. Not again. Especially not after he’d squandered their second and third chances. They had to find her.

They had to find her.

“Major?”

He stopped his swift, aimless pacing. It was Chakwas; she was peaking her head out of the Med-bay. He nodded in acknowledgment and made his way over.

“Javik says you smell like sadness,” she commented as the automatic doors shut behind him.

“I’ll try to contain the odor, ma’am."

“Very funny, Kaidan,” she admonished, “I’m worried about your stress. The Normandy can’t afford for you to suffer some infernal days-long migraine. Not now.”

He knew that, but the reminder stung. The journey back to Earth had been tentatively agreed on at best; something as small as two, three days of his absence could upset everything. The crew were all eager to find Shepard too, but it was just… things were different now. Uncertainty ruled.

“I’m fine,” he assured her.

“Bullshit.”

Kaidan rolled his eyes, “What? You wanna give me another check-up?”

Chakwas walked away to grab something that was tucked away in a drawer. She pulled out an old bottle of whiskey, and two glasses.

“I was thinking we’d have a drink.”

Kaidan smiled, embarrassed he'd snapped a bit and grateful for the grace she gave him, “Now you’re talking, Doc.”

He watched her give each glass a generous pour.

“In normal circumstances, I wouldn’t condone all this drinking, but…”

“These aren’t normal circumstances,” Kaidan finished for her.

“Exactly. Just for the time being. A little sin in exchange for going to Hell and back.”

She handed him his glass, a glint in her eye defiant of the gloomy circumstances. It reminded him of Shepard. He might not be able to find her, but he saw her everywhere.

They held up their glasses, and she spoke.

“Shepard and I toasted to the end of times twice, and still here we stand. You weren’t there for those—”

You weren't there.

“And now she’s not here to toast the beginning of times with us,” she continued, “May we all meet again, and share a toast together, the first of many to come.”

They clinked their glasses, sharing a meaningful look.

“If we find her—when we find her,” Kaidan declared, “I’ll always be wherever she is. As long as she wants me around.”

“Hear, hear!” Chakwas agreed, and they threw their heads back.

*                       *                       *                       *                       *                       *

Wrex was worried. Shepard was asleep, always asleep.

It was hard to see her lying there unconscious like that, hooked into machines. The tubes were the worst part. They snaked in and out of her like sharp wires ready to tear her apart.

Delicate things, humans. Shepard might be Krogan, but she wasn't a krogan. She needed sleep to heal. Though, tough bastard that she was, she kept trying to wake up. The doctors had to keep increasing the medication.

There was no way he’d leave her side.

Recently, Wrex tried taking turns with Grunt, watching over her while the other rested—For a bit… before that fell brutally apart. One of those days, the one that ended up being their last, Wrex returned to find Shepard completely alone.

There had been a meatball cart outside.

A meatball cart.

Grunt left Shepard’s side because he wanted meatballs. Meatballs!

To make things worse, that day ended with Grunt getting detained for aggravated assault. Making him wait in line, and for food, was begging for homicide.

They made Grunt wait in line for food.

“Forever! It was torture!” Grunt told Wrex when he came to pick him up. “And then when I finally got my scoop of tender, sweet, juicy meatballs, some guy came and BUMPED me!”

“I don’t care!” Wrex shouted, making the Human guard shiver, “You should never leave her alone!”

“I was hungry!”

“I should leave you in there and teach you about hungry,” Wrex grumbled.

“I’m already starving! My precious meatballs—they fell to the floor!” Grunt cried miserably. Then he shook his face and growled, “That’s why I had to beat that guy up!”

“Grunt, you didn’t have to do anything! You chose to leave; you also chose to almost kill that human.”

The boy could lead a squad, but he couldn’t sit still. And Wrex couldn’t trust anyone else, not until the Normandy finally got there—if it was even coming at all.

There was absolutely no way he’d leave her room again.

Wrex watched Shepard’s chest rise and fall with the sound of the machine.

No matter what anyone said.

The tube in her throat couldn’t be comfortable. He rang for the nurses again.

“Yes, General Urdnot?” It was the Human male with the snarky voice. Wrex didn’t like him, but he was thorough.

“She still doesn’t look comfortable.”

The nurse sighed and went over to examine the patient. He checked the machines, adjusted her blankets and pillows, and triple-checked everything going in and out of her.

“She’s as comfortable as she was ten minutes ago, sir.”

“That’s not good enough. Look at her.”

“I am.”

Wrex growled but the nurse didn’t flinch.

“May I suggest something, sir?”

“What?” he snapped.

“Please get some rest.”

“I’m not resting until her crew gets here.”

“Is there any way I can help?”

“Yeah, you can get in touch with the Normandy.”

The nurse nodded and walked out of the room.

Wrex had lost track of time, but he knew it had been at least over a week since they’d found her. Messages were sent out, but they hadn’t been answered.

A few ominous datapads were stacked in the chair next to him. He knew he had to get to work and picked up the top one, sighing.

Councilor Merrit was blowing up his inbox again.

Wrex stood up, chucking the tablet aside, “Fuck this, fuck that, fuck him. No. No, no, no. NO!”

Shepard didn’t react.

“Don’t look at me like that!” he growled, even though her eyes were closed, “Merrit is an asshole. You’ll see. Hmmppff! Content enough to hide behind us, sniveling and clinging to our legs during the war—Throw my people in the front lines, and now he wants to throw them out!”

Wrex plopped back down in that uncomfortable seat. He continued to rant, “All my people want is some fucking farmland! We’re from Tuchanka; we don’t care how shitty it is. And he says, HE SAYS, ‘Do Krogan even farm?’ Like we don’t have the brains of a farmer and the bodies of an ox!”

Sitting there day after day, perpetually existing in a combination of uncertainty and boredom, Wrex was left with a lot of time to scroll through what remained of the extranet. Many things were lost in the data wipe cased by The Beam, but plenty of local information about Earth animals remained. He was learning a lot, and particularly admired these beasts called "oxen" when he'd stumbled across them.

Something beeped. A call from Bakara. Wrex rolled his eyes and accepted it.

“Come home,” she said unceremoniously. He could hear her surrounded by wailing babies in the background, but her face didn’t show it.

Home. More like the main Krogan encampment back in London where he’d left them.

“I can’t come home, honey. Shepard needs me here.”

“Urdont Wrex,” Bakara began, “You are a leader and a warrior. People depend on you.”

“I’m sorry. You’re right,” he said guiltily. “You need help with the babies.”

“No. My sisters and I can handle them ourselves. It’s the other Krogan, and these Humans. There are negotiations to be made, and females waiting to be fertilized.”

“Bakara, I already have hundreds of children at this point! Let other sires have a chance. I’m done! And I am negotiating! I’m waiting for the Alliance to come back with better terms before I sign anything.”

“Wrex…”

“Don’t ‘Wrex’ me!”

“Wreeex,” Bakara cooed musically.

“That’s not fair.”

“Wreeeeex.”

“Stop that.”

“I’m just saying your name.”

“Yeah, in that special way.”

“Won’t you please come out of that room? I miss you.”

“I miss you too, Bakara.”

“And I have practically a whole clan waiting for you to sire their children,” she started again impatiently, “I sent them to the hospital to make it easier. If you can get it all done before this evening let me know and I’ll—”

Wrex hung up. She brought them all here?

No! No more!

He got up and locked the door.

“Not like it’ll stop a horny Krogan, let alone enough to make up ‘practically a whole clan’, but a false sense of security is better than nothing. Right?” he quipped to the unconscious Shepard, desperately barricading the door with chairs.

She just laid there with her eyes shut: the machines beeping out that she was alive; the sound of her breath rasping like something wasn’t right.

*                       *                       *                       *                       *                       *

She had to come back.

Kaidan diligently cared for Shepard’s animals while she was… away. Someone else could’ve done it, but he wanted control. He had to make sure that she returned without a friend out of place. Every port made it harder to keep the whole crew together. But he had to. He had to keep everyone together. At least until they found her.

Or what was left of her.

It was a slow process, stopping and refueling—even with the fastest ship in the galaxy. There was a lot of room for dissent.

People were hard, pets were easier. So, he really didn’t mind. He actually kind of looked forward to it. Shepard had her fish, they were pretty. And her hamster, Kaidan Hamenko, he was cute.

Kaidan could see how she got so attached. They looked at you expectantly, sure, but all they wanted was food or attention. It was love, simply delivered.

But there was guilt too.

It came up and coated the back of his tongue when he thought about what they meant to her, how they helped. He’d left her alone in the jaws the enemy, and they’d been her little lifelines. That’s why she’d been so upset when her clone—that was a trip—had almost gotten rid of them. They didn’t take away the pain, but they made the moment brighter.

He grumbled as he pinched little Kaidan Hamenko’s teeny, floofy cheeks. He should forgive himself. Shepard had.

Truth was, he’d be kicking himself even if Shepard were with him right now. She could be standing next to him, Hamenko in her hands, smiling and talking about anything, and there’d still be that deep feeling of regret for any time spent away from her. Just to know her was to regret life without her, to ache for every lost moment. He’d spent 32 years not knowing her, and another two grieving her.

34 years is a long time to be apart. And then he had to go ahead and add a whole year. 35.

He sighed and kissed the top of the little creature’s head before securing him back in his cage. The tube of fish food was where it always was on her desk—she’d find everything the same when she came back. It would be like she’d gotten on the ship that night, and…

Kaidan smiled as he picked it up. He’d seen her hold it so many times, and could imagine the warmth of her hands.

He would make sure her animals were all happy and healthy because Shepard would come back, and when she was back he would—

Oh, no.

“No, no, no, no, no, no.”

Kaidan dashed over to the tank. One striped fish was floating at the waterline.

The tube of fish flakes dropped from his grasp and spilled onto the floor.

“Fuck!”

He bent down, gathering the fallen pile into shaking hands, careful to only pick up flakes that rested on others and leaving anything that directly touched the floor. But he didn't have to be on his knees, it was okay. Even if he threw out everything that spilled, there would still be enough. He’d miraculously been able to get more when they’d finally docked. His hands worked anyway, carefully, obsessively. They sweated and sorted, because these were the flakes she'd bought for them. She said a joke he couldn't remember as she paid. Her smile looked bright in the neon marketplace. Her red hair glowed. When she—the last she ever bought...

His breath was turning rapid and shallow.

And there it was again; his nose stuffing and his eyes filling. No crying. No more fucking crying. It never seemed to stop the moment he was alone.

Kaidan stood up and drizzled the flakes he'd saved over the top of the tank, sprinkling them as far from the dead one as he could manage. The live fish swam up to meet the bounty. He watched them as he scooped out the dead one with both hands.

Then he sat on the floor, palms held up to cradle the limp fish, forearms resting on his knees. He was surprised the eel hadn’t eaten it. It made him worry about sickness in the tank.

He wanted to get up. But his legs wouldn’t move, and his breath refused to settle.

There was just his stupid, desperate gasping and the fish that no longer did.

The noise in the room didn’t sound like his voice.

But it was.

Time passed. His head started to hurt. He needed to deal with the body in his hands.

Kaidan could hear her, Pull yourself together, Major. She’d say it kindly and with a smirk. She’d touch him and he’d feel peace.

His head was pounding. He stood up when he could.

Kaidan laid the fish out on the table and looked up at the stars. He walked into the bathroom and washed his face.

Tali also really loved Shepard’s fish.

He pulled up his omni-tool and sent her a message.

One of the Stripey guys is gone. (Kaidan)

He’d barely sent it out before he heard the responding ping.

I’ll be right there. (Tali)

He didn’t smile, but his breathing settled a little. A moment later it pinged again.

Is it cool if I bring Garrus? (Tali)

Yeah. (Kaidan)

They came up and found him sitting on the bed staring into nothing.

“Oh, Kaidan,” Tali sighed, “You look like shit.”

“Thanks,” he replied.

Garrus sat next to him and put a hand on his shoulder.

“I miss her too,” he told him.

“We both do,” Tali added, looking down at them.

“I know,” Kaidan thanked them.

“So where is the little guy—Oh…” Tali asked, turning around and seeing the fish on the table. She put her hands to her face.

“It’s so sad,” she said tearfully.

Kaidan’s migraine stung in his head.

“Sorry… but, do you have any water?” he asked, one eye half-shut.

Garrus and Tali looked at each other.

“I’ll get you some,” Garrus offered, getting up. Tali took his place beside Kaidan.

“You’re doing great, you know,” she said.

Kaidan chuckled weakly. The physical searing in his forehead took over for panic and heartache. It was almost a relief.

“Tali… I just collapsed on the floor over a fish.”

“Stop that. You’ve taken charge and got us all out of a bad situation. We might not know exactly how we’ll get there, but we have a destination. We have a purpose... Even if everyone doesn’t quite agree on it... You’ve done more than a lot of people could on a normal day. You’re not broken, you just have your moments of breaking. We all do.”

“That’s… thank you,” he said.

Garrus came back with some water. Kaidan drank deeply and thanked him.

Tali got up and walked over to one of Shepard’s drawers, searching for something. “Aha!” she exclaimed after a bit, holding a small object in her fingers.

“And here’s a fun pill,” she said, offering Kaidan her find, “Don’t worry, it’s for Humans. Shepard had a stash.”

“A stash?” Kaidan asked, concerned and surprised. He swallowed the pill with more water.

“From the Cerberus days. There's a secret compartment in that drawer. I know because I made it," she said proudly.

“Awaiting trial, my ass,” Garrus mused, “I always wondered if Anderson and Hackett shut her away for so long in order to get her some counseling.”

“She did tell me she had therapy while she was locked up,” Kaidan said, “but I know for a fact they didn’t hold her there just for that.”

"Shepard was well taken care of. Even if she didn't know it at the time." Tali sighed, “I wish I had mentors slash father-figures like them.”

“Garrus and I can be that,” Kaidan offered, equal parts levity and sincerity, and covered her hand with his.

She giggled, but Garrus cleared his throat and shifted his feet. Kaidan realized his error and squeezed Tali’s hand apologetically.

“Oh, right. Sorry guys. How silly of me. I can be a like a father-figure, and he can be your daddy.”

Tali howled.

Whatever that mystery pill was, it was working very fast. That or the water. He took another sip.

“I guess I deserve that,” Garrus said, doing the Turian version of blushing.

“After the ‘Hamenko’ incident? Yeah. You’re never living that down because neither am I.”

“It was almost a year ago!”

“I don’t care!”

“Tali and Joker were part of it too!” Garrus protested.

“That may be true. But it was your idea, Garrus, to set Shepard’s hamster free, and replace the cage by her note with a wildly large sex toy.”

“We had to!” Garrus exclaimed, “And we didn’t set it free, it escaped when Joker dropped it.”

“You had to?” Kaidan asked.

“Of course!” Garrus answered, exasperated, “Her note said, ‘Please take care of him. His name is Kaidan Hamenko. He’s given me a lot of joy.’ What else did you expect us to do?!”

“Uh… Not that!”

“It was based off of a couple different types of penises,” Tali explained, veering the topic with details no one asked for.

Kaidan and Garrus stopped bickering to stare at her.

“You know, Turian, Drell… there’s Human! And I think… was it Elcor? Or Volus? Maybe both… Anyway, nothing beats the Reaper version they came out with near the end of the war.”

They kept staring.

“What?” she asked.

“Reaper?” Garrus asked, ignoring her question.

“That big dark grey one with the blue glowing dots I showed you.”

Garrus nodded thoughtfully.

“This is a lot of information,” Kaidan stated.

“Life happens at you fast,” Garrus said.

There hadn't been laughter and lightness in this cabin since... and suddenly the three of them felt the shift, heard the noise of the previous moments. It made them silent again.

“So, what are we going to do about this poor little guy?” Tali asked, breaking the solemn freeze.

Kaidan gazed at it sadly.

“I’d like to give it a proper burial,” Kaidan said, “You know, but, uh, eject him into space instead of put him in the ground. You know what I mean.”

“Should we invite Liara?” Garrus asked.

“Of course,” Tali answered, already typing up the message.

They all met down in the Starboard Cargo.

Liara watched as Tali and Garrus walked forward, each with a hand on one of Kaidan’s shoulders. He held what she assumed was the fish in outstretched palms, a napkin draped over it.

“Hey Liara,” Kaidan said as they reached her. She was waiting right by the airlock.

“Hey. I’m so sorry to hear about the Stripey guy.”

They all nodded and gathered close, shoulder-to-shoulder in a little circle to pay their respects. A few words were mumbled, and they each took turns giving the napkin a little pat.

Their expressions knotted all in one big tangle, wondering how they'd eventually break the news. Wondering if they'd ever have to.

Then the limp fish was sent off flying into space.

*                       *                       *                       *                       *                       *

Biotics flared behind the eyes of both women. The hostility between them spilled over, blue.

“I am your superior.”

Jack cackled, “No, I’m better than you, and that’s fact.”

“No, Jack,” Miranda stated, hand on her hip, “I’m your boss. Like for your job? I’ve brought you here to inform you that—"

Jack mocked her words as she spoke, "Oh, I've brought you here to inform you."

"As I was saying, I've brought you here to inform you that I’ve been appointed the Head of Biotic Affairs & Development.”

“Bullshit!” Jack exclaimed, kicking her chair back so hard it fell over.

They were in Miranda’s new office, a swiftly built prefab placed in the middle of what was once a suburb of London—It was a crater now, made so by the impact from a Reaper beam. There was room for a desk and two chairs, and not much else.

Attitude bristled, gained form, and became sentient. It turned the walls of the windowless room into oppressors.

“And this is why I insisted on telling you privately.”

“I’m not working for you, cheerleader,” Jack sneered.

“Well, technically you already are.”

Jack began to pace around the tight space. She grunted, glowing with biotic potential.

“And there’s that charming feral quality of yours,” Miranda commented, arms crossed.

“I know why you asked me here. You brought me here to gloat!”

“Maybe a little.”

Jack smirked, “At least you’re honest.”

“That’s a surprise. Got something nice to say about me for once?”

“Call it a redeeming quality,” Jack said, smiling disingenuously.

“For me or for you?”

“Both of us, probably,” Jack shrugged, “But stop dicking around! That can’t be the only thing you wanted to tell me.”

Miranda rolled her eyes.

“Okay. You’re right. That’s not all I have to say.”

“In the middle of the night,” Jack added disapprovingly.

“In the middle of the night, yes,” Miranda grudgingly repeated.

Jack raised her eyebrows, “You know, I’m flattered, princess. Truly.”

Miranda rolled her eyes again, “You’re disgusting!”

“But you like it,” Jack teased.

“No, I don’t!” Miranda exclaimed, taking the bait. “Dammit, Jack! It’s about Shepard.”

Jack stood up straight, her voice softened, “Shepard?”

“Yeah, I think they’ve found her.”

“Is she—?”

“Yeah, she’s okay.”

Jack lit up, her energy flowering into brilliance.

Miranda was expanding too, finally having someone else to share the news with, someone who loved Shepard just as much. Her heart fluttered as if she’d just heard the news herself.

For fuck’s sake! They even started hugging—Until they realized what they were doing.

They instantly broke apart.

Miranda cleared her throat, “Would you… would you come with me? I want to be there. To help her.”

“Aren’t you the big boss now?” Jack asked, crossing her arms, “Are you asking or are you telling?”

“This isn’t exactly business as usual, but we’d have to pretend it was.”

Of course Jack was never going to hesitate when it came to Shepard—but Miranda needed something from her!

She smacked her lips and gave her a long, staring wait.

“What do ya have in mind?” she finally asked, milking it.

Miranda rolled her eyes. “I’ll be there to work with the doctors on Shepard’s recovery,” she explained, “You’ll be there with your squad rebuilding the local area. Both would be true, but you and I would also keep our eyes and ears peeled for anything suspicious. She needs people she trusts on guard while she’s vulnerable.”

“Shepard’s alone?!”

“She has Wrex and his Krogan. I don’t know if Grunt—”

“Where did they find her?”

Miranda sighed at the interruption but understood Jack’s hurry for answers.

“You’ll never believe it.”

“Try me.”

“In some pile of snow in Sweden. She’s in a hospital in the middle of nowhere.”

“Why’s she in the middle of nowhere?”

“Jack…”

“What?!”

“If you hadn’t noticed,” Miranda began, rolling her eyes, “The Reapers hit the major cities and other densely populated areas. They targeted infrastructure and important buildings like hospitals, but they left the less populated areas alone. Earth’s mom and pop hospitals are now the greatest on the planet.”

“Wooonderful,” Jack sighed, “What about the Normandy?”

“I’m not sure, but there’s reports of people who saw it leave the system before the relay exploded. I’m sure they’re okay, whoever was on board.”

“But you don’t know for sure?” Jack questioned.

Miranda smirked and shrugged, “There’s not a lot of ‘sure’ going around these days.”

*                       *                       *                       *                       *                       *

What we do now? The whole galaxy thrummed with that question every day.

No one had thought this far, hadn’t dared to hope there would even be a this far. And those that did, envisioned a return to before. Not whatever this was.

Nobody had thought about what victory looked like in a broken world.

“Hah!” Traynor shouted, “HAH!”

Fortunately, victory still looked the same around a poker table.

Vega grinned, proud of his pupil.

“Gloat all you want, Traynor,” Kaidan said, “It’s just a fraction of what I’ve won off you today.”

“Basic rule of survival, Alenko, don’t anger the lesbian,” she warned.

“’Alenko’, huh? I thought you were supposed to address me as ‘Major’?”

“Are you really pulling rank right now?”

“Not really,” he admitted, grinning, “but it's kinda fun to piss you off.”

“Mission accomplished then, Major,” she said, rolling her eyes and standing up to gather the rest of her winnings.

Cortez dealt the next hand.

Samantha looked at her cards and groaned.

“You’re making me regret giving Joker your coordinates,” she grumbled. Traynor was the reason Steven was with them here and not stranded by the ruins of a council estate. She said it was no big deal when they picked him up, but wouldn't stop slipping it into conversation since.

“Yeah, right! You adore me,” Cortez objected, blowing her a kiss.

“Well, now you’re just making me blush, Steve.”

Everyone’s laughter rolled across the table in a low rumble.

But Javik wasn't laughing. He was studying the fate in his hands, “I do believe I am fucked.”

Vega felt bad for the guy. This wasn’t just an unfamiliar game; it was an unfamiliar cycle.

“If I agree to step out, can I help him?” he asked the group.

“Sure, Vega," Cortez said, "We all know you’d rather quit than tell people I beat your ass.”

“Oh, I bet you’d like it if I beat your ass. Maybe I should stay in the game."

Everyone laughed except Javik who asked, “Why would he like that?”

The group went quiet. Vega cleared his throat.

“Well," he explained kindly, "because ‘beating someone’s ass’ can have a sexual meaning.” 

“Yeah it can,” Kaidan and Traynor joked in unintentional unison. They smiled and leaned over the table to give each other high-fives.

“Why?” Javik asked casually, “Does it feel good?”

“Yes,” Vega answered, stifling his laugh, “It can feel good.”

Javik nodded thoughtfully.

“But like all things,” Vega continued, “It has to be done right. Let me show you how to play. Learn from a pro, Buggy!”

He stood up to move next to Javik, scooting passed Cortez and then Kaidan.

“Ow!” Kaidan complained, tangled up with Vega, “That was my foot!”

“Sorry, L2.”

“It’s like muscle-Tetris,” Cortez joked as Vega clumsily climbed passed Kaidan.

“Get a room, boys,” Traynor called out, eyes peeled on her cards, “Because I’m not leaving until I’ve robbed everyone here of everything they have or ever will have." 

“Charming,” Cortez commented dryly.

“No one is gonna take anything from you,” Vega reassured Javik, settling in beside him, “Not while I’m around.”

“Thank you, Human soldier. I do not want to be robbed.”

They played on with Vega looking over Javik’s shoulder and whispering advice. The idea was that this would improve Javik's chances, but with the alien loudly asking for explanations for why he should make this or that move, Vega's expertise probably had the opposite effect. The rivalry between Traynor and Kaidan was fierce, and Javik was pushed quickly out of the game. Cortez held on for longer than anyone expected him to, and in the end clinched it all with a surprise hand.

“You cheated,” Samantha seethed.

“Yeah, accuse the dealer of cheating,” Cortez retorted sarcastically. “Word of advice, if you’re gonna lose, at least be original about it.”

“This isn’t over, shuttle boy!”

“I’m so hungry,” Kaidan interjected.

“Maybe if we get Traynor some cookies she’ll be a little less… scary,” Cortez suggested.

“Cookies?” Traynor perked up, “I would like some cookies.”

Kaidan put a hand on her shoulder, “Come on, then. Let’s get you some cookies.”

Vega and Javik remained in their seats.

“In my cycle, we would never have a game like this.”

“Cheer up, Buggy. You’ll get better with practice.”

“No, I don’t care about that. My people wouldn’t play this game because we can sense each other’s thoughts and feelings. The concept of bluffing wouldn’t exist,” Javik explained.

“Oh, so no poker faces, huh?”

“Not as you explained them.”

Vega walked over to the bar.

“I guess there’s no point hiding anything from you ever,” Vega said, pouring himself a drink.

“No, there isn’t,” Javik answered.

“Cool. You want one?” Vega asked.

“Why not?” Javik answered. Vega poured him the same drink.

“Good man,” he said, handing it over to Javik.

“So, what can you read from me?” Vega asked after they each took a sip.

“You are confident.”

“Damn right!”

“And you are sad,” Javik continued.

“Oh.”

He took another sip, “There’s guilt there too.”

“That’s impressive.”

“And yet you walk around and smile.”

“I have to,” Vega said.

“Is that a Human trait?” Javik asked.

Vega shrugged, “For some.”

Javik looked at him thoughtfully and nodded, humming as he made a decision.

“I admire you,” he told Vega.

“That makes two of us, Buggy. I admire you too.”

*                       *                       *                       *                       *                       *

“Where is this going?” Tali asked.

“To the Sol system. Eventually...”

“No, Garrus!”

“Kidding! Don’t hit me.”

“Oh, Mr. Vakarian,” Tali sighed dramatically, “If I was going to hit you, I’d tie you up first.”

Garrus shook his head, “Promises, promises.” Then he took both of her hands in his and kissed them.

Tali walked over to the weapons bench and hopped up on it. Garrus followed her, sauntering. He towered over her. Taking her head between his hands, he gently kissed the top of her visor.

“This is going wherever you want it to go,” he offered, his voice a tender low growl.

“For real?” Tali asked.

“For real,” he confirmed happily. He could see Tali smiling under her helmet.

He was hers, and it drove her wild.

“Can it go to the drive core again?” she asked excitedly, “I liked the way it vibrates.”

She pulled him closer until they were tightly chest to chest.

“Only if you’re nice,” Garrus teased, “and if I recall… you haven’t been that nice.”

“Oh, because I beat you in poker the other night?”

“No. I’m an adult,” Garrus said, “This is because of the night after that when you lost at strip poker and made me take off my clothes!”

“Garrus, I’m a Quarian. I would have died!”

“Then what were you doing playing strip poker!?”

“I’m not having this argument again,” she said obstinately.

Garrus held up his arms in mock defeat and walked backwards out of the room, “Then you’re not having me in the engine room.”

“Bosh'tet!” Tali shouted as the doors shut. It made him smile.

He walked over to the Mess and found Kaidan and Traynor arguing about ingredients again.

“I mean, this is all coming from a bisexual. By definition you all eat anything.”

“That’s not how it works, and hey! That’s offensive.”

“You think synthetic goat cheese, dill, and bacon make a good sandwich! You, sir, are offensive.”

They stopped when Garrus came over.

“Are you done?” he asked them, standing over where they sat, “Or are you ashamed of yourselves?”

“Garrus!” Traynor greeted him sardonically, “Just the person to judge a debate on levo-food.”

“I didn’t come here for that. I’m here for Kaidan.”

“What is it, buddy?” he asked.

Garrus took a moment, shut his eyes, and said, “I need you to show me your dick.”

Traynor did a spit take.

Garrus continued, “You saw mine the other night, and… I can’t get that out of my head.”

She did another spit take.

Kaidan chuckled, “Well, when Tali put those cards on the table, I just knew I had to ride you both as hard as I could.”

Traynor couldn’t breathe.

“Bastard! You didn’t have to fuck me like that!” Garrus exclaimed, pounding his fist against his palm.

Kaidan laughed triumphantly.

“WHAT the fuck are you two talking about?”

“Tali wanted to play strip poker with us—me, Liara, and a few of the crew—and she couldn’t lose any clothes because, well,” Kaidan gestured vaguely, “So she made Garrus—”

“She didn’t make me. I volunteered.”

“Ok, so Garrus volunteered to take his clothes off for her. I don’t know if it was skill on my part, or if Tali threw the game, but let’s just say I ended up with everything and Garrus ended up with—”

“Nothing,” Garrus finished for him, then said, “Now show me your dick. It’s only fair.”

Kaidan shrugged, “Sorry, bud. I don’t make the rules.”

“It’s a Human game. You literally make the rules!” Garrus argued, “Now show me your dick!”

“I don’t know how Turians do it, but you can’t just come up to a guy while he’s eating and demand to see his dick.”

“Whoa!” Vega exclaimed, arms up, “What did I just walk into?”

“A lot,” Taynor answered, “You walked into a lot.”

“Apparently! And I’m here for it,” Vega said, sitting down and leaning back in his chair, “So, who’s sucking whose dick?”

“No one is sucking anyone’s dick,” Garrus said, “I just need Kaidan to show me his so we’re even.”

“Hello!” Vega laughed, “I missed something.”

“You missed a lot,” Traynor said.

“What’cha got there?” Vega asked Kaidan, noticing his sandwich.

“It’s goat cheese with dill and bacon.”

“Sounds good. What else?”

“That’s it,” Kaidan said, taking another bite.

“That’s it?!”

“Thank you!” Traynor exclaimed, throwing up her arms.

“Like… no lettuce? Not even oil or mayo… or any sauce?” Vega asked, scratching his head.

“Stop changing the subject!” Garrus demanded, “I’ve come to collect my debt. I don’t care when, I don’t care how, but you will show me your dick, Alenko!”

“A dick debt…” Samantha mused.

Then they all heard Liara scream. She was in her room with the door shut.

They rushed over right away, spilling out of their chairs.

“How much you wanna bet she heard us?” Kaidan joked, trying to keep his head from spinning with the worst.

“Your willie, nothing less,” Garrus growled.

The door was open before Kaidan had a chance to answer.

They saw Liara on her bed, weeping.

“What is it?” Kaidan asked, voice cracking with dread.

“They found her,” Liara managed to get out between sobs.

None of them breathed until they heard her speak again.

“She’s with Wrex,” Liara said as soon as she was able, “Shepard’s alive!”

Garrus and Kaidan ran to her. They held each other, shouting and celebrating, crying with gratitude.

Samantha gathered up Vega into a big bear hug, lifting him off his feet, “Come here, you big himbo!”

Liara, Kaidan, and Garrus were standing close, heads pressed together as they celebrated. Traynor and Vega decided to leave them alone.

“She’s alive,” Garrus said eventually, still weeping.

“I know—I knew it,” Kaidan said, joyful tears smearing his face. He was sobbing from grief’s opposite.

“So, Liara wasn’t screaming because she heard us?” Garrus' tone had adopted a manic tinge. Then he gleefully explained, “You've lost the bet. You have to show me your dick after all!”

“I didn’t actually agree, but anything you want, friend,” Kaidan consented, kissing the Turian on his battle-scared cheek.

“What?!” Liara exclaimed from between them, eyes popping.

*                       *                       *                       *                       *                       *

“You are fierce. You are a warrior!” Grunt roared from his knees, fists pounding against his chest.

The tiny grey-black kitten stared back at him with wide blue eyes, its little tail curling into a question mark as it loudly purred.

“Grunt, leave that cat baby alone,” Wrex admonished him.

“Kittens," Shepard informed them, "Cat babies are called kittens.” She smiled as she played weakly with a sleepy, orange one.

Wrex had been taking care of some stray cats after the war. He saw some the night after the last battle and decided to feed them because he liked the way their eyes glowed in the dark. He told her about how a group of them started hanging around, stalking him and his men. Wrex said the whole group of them together looked like stars blinking in the bushes. He saw it as an omen; he’d find her because his vision was pulled towards the stars.

He fed them faithfully, his good omens. They stuck around the Krogan camp after that, wherever it went. Wrex even had a few brought over to stay here with Shepard. His ultimate favorite, a poofy white one, had just had babies. He'd told her it was almost as exciting as the birth of his own children.

Grunt had taken them with him for the day’s visit. He knew Wrex cherished every opportunity to see them but was stuck in Shepard's room. Plus, the kittens always lifted Shep's spirits. She could get a little bleak these days.

“What happened to the Normandy?” she’d asked as soon as the doctors finally allowed her to be conscious.

“We don’t know, but we’re finding out,” Wrex informed her. His rough hand had cradled one of hers. Her grip felt weak when she'd squeezed it.

“He’ll come, Shepard,” he'd reassured her. The look on his face didn’t fill her with confidence.

“I hope he’s okay.”

She said it again now out of nowhere. She did that a lot. Not looking at either of them, she concentrated on the kitten in front of her.

When this is over, I’m going to be waiting for you. You’d better show up.

“He has to be okay,” she added.

Wrex nodded, “I’m sure he is.”

The door slammed open and that nurse Wrex didn’t like stormed in.

“You cannot have animals in here, sir. I already asked you twice, please take them out.”

Wrex growled, “I told you these are service animals.”

“These are strays!”

“You’re a stray,” Grunt threatened, getting up in his face. The grey kitten pounced on the nurse’s pant leg.

“It’s not my policy. It’s the hospital’s,” he insisted, standing firm.

“Come on. Let them stay,” Shepard pleaded, still vaguely preoccupied with the kitten on her chest.

The nurse left the room.

Wrex sighed and sat back down next to her. Things were a lot more interesting now that Shepard was awake. She couldn’t move, so she introduced him to reality tv. Wrex found those shows fascinating in a way that fascinated her. It didn’t even matter when she told him they were scripted. Wrex was convinced the things that fell out of these Humans’ mouths defied premeditation. His favorite was about colony life on Bekenstein. Too bad that place blew up. All those people were dead now. Shepard preferred the show called, “Sexily: Junk in the Trunk”, about a pawn shop owned by an Elcor sex-worker. He couldn’t understand why.

She looked up at him, smiling.

“Wrex?”

“What is it, Shepard?”

“Thank you, for being here for me. I don’t know if I can tell you how much it means,” she said, “Both of you. Really, I’d be dead.”

Wrex waved it off, “It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

She looked down at the kitten, avoiding his eyes, “Please don’t feel like you have to stay here because you think you owe me.”

“Why would I—? Oh, the genophage? Stop that! Grunt and I are here because we want to be.”

“Damn right!” Grunt confirmed from the floor. He was rolling around with the grey kitten.

Shepard bolted up when there was knocking at the door. Every knock could be…

Grunt opened it and two people spilled into the room.

“Jack!? Miranda!?”

They ran over to her side, flying past Wrex. “Shepard!” they cried out together.

She held them both tight, kitten protesting loudly as it moved to the other end of her bed to get out of the way. It was almost overwhelming how much crying there was these days. The three women would have normally been embarrassed, but relief eclipsed every other feeling.

Still, every reunion was bitter to Shepard while she was waiting for news. She wasn’t ungrateful, it just…

“I’m so happy you’re both here,” she said, hushing the wish that they were someone else.

The moment they broke apart, Miranda began examining the chart by Shepard’s bed.

Jack addressed the Krogans, “Good to see you both on the other side, and not the other side.”

“What the fuck is this?” Miranda exclaimed.

“Language!” Jack teased, laughing, “I think she meant to say it’s good to see you too.”

“No, this is all wrong,” Miranda said more to herself than anyone in the room.

“What is it?” Shepard asked, suddenly nervous.

“Oh, nothing. They’re just going about treating you like… Where can I talk to someone about this?”

Wrex got a huge grin on his face. “I know exactly who you can talk to about everything,” he said gleefully, leading her outside.

Jack said hello to Grunt properly as the other two left. Shepard watched her pick him up weightlessly in an enthusiastic biotic embrace. Grunt let out the Krogan version of “Wheeee!”

“I’m so happy you made it, big guy,” Jack said happily.

“Jaaaaack!”

Shepard couldn’t help smiling. The kitten on her bed screamed in her face as it walked back up to her. Its breath smelled like tuna.

“This little guy has things to say,” she joked.

Jack came back over, “Sure, I mean he’s bound to be the speaker of his generation. Just listen to him.”

The kitten shouted again in response. It made them all laugh.

“Have you heard anything about the Normandy?” Shepard asked as their laughing quieted.

Jack pursed her lips and worried her forehead.

“I guess not,” she answered for her sadly.

“No, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

They hung their heads, searching for something else to say. It was quiet except for the sound of Grunt playing with kittens behind them.

“So, why are you here?” Shepard asked, coming off harsh when she didn’t mean to.

“To look after you, silly.”

Someone else barged in through the door.

Shepard’s heart leapt and fell.

“Excuse me, pardon me,” said the intruder, a man in an all-white suit and greasy hair, “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

“Who’re you?” Grunt asked, already on the defense.

“More visitors,” Jack commented, “You’re popular.”

“I didn’t mean to just barge in. Apologies, my name is Hansen. I’m one of the new Alliance Councilors.”

He came further into the room, holding out his hand to Shepard. She didn’t want to take it.

It was moist and cold when she did.

“Pleasure to meet you!” Hansen said, shaking her hand too vigorously for comfort.

“And you,” she said, careful to hide her repulsion. He reminded her of Udina, but skeevier and not bald.

“Sorry again for interrupting. I just wanted to let you know I talked to the hospital staff. I heard they’ve been bothering you about the kittens.”

“Oh?” Shepard asked, taken aback.

“They won’t be bothering you about that anymore,” he winked.

“Thank you.”

He nodded excitedly and stood there. They all stared at him, waiting for him to turn and leave.

“Well…” Shepard began, trying to get Hansen to take the hint.

“Well,” he agreed, “We’ll be seeing a lot more of each other. Get well soon, Commander.”

He left the room, but the weird vibes he brought into it lingered behind. The friends who were eager to catch up suddenly didn’t feel like speaking.

*                       *                       *                       *                       *                       *

“What are you doing in here?” It was Joker’s turn to ask and startle Traynor from her thoughts. He’d found her there with a hand on the body. She tore it away at the sound of his voice.

“This is the part where I tell you how startling you are,” she joked in a strained tone.

“Only if you feel like it,” he joked, “I already know how terrifying I can be.”

She felt his eyes on the back of her neck. She didn’t turn to meet his face.

“Terrifying is a big word. It doesn’t fit you.”

He came closer, “Fits me like a loose, sweater, huh?”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

The hum of the eezo core fell over them like thickened silence.

Joker went to the other side of the body and took its hand. It was a possessive gesture he immediately regretted. He hadn’t touched it since she went offline.

And then Traynor had the audacity to ask, “Look, I know you… I know you were the one with—who had the special relationship with her, but… could you—would you… leave us for a bit?”

She didn’t even look him in the eye. His heart beat fast with rage.

“Sure, go ahead,” he said nonchalantly, and got up. There was no point in jealousy over a dead woman.

He looked back at her with the body once more before he left.

Traynor kept her eyes peeled on EDI, only looking up to make sure Joker had really left.

Then she resumed her work.

*                       *                       *                       *                       *                       *

A week or two had passed by in an instant after Jack and Miranda showed up. Still no news from the Normandy, and the only privacy she had came from lying down and pretending to be asleep. It reminded her of the Cerberus days, crying under her eyelids, hiding her gasping under the sheets.

Shepard was never alone. At least two people were always in the room with her, and as much as she loved them, it was starting to wear her down.

“Before I tell you anything, Shepard, I need you to know that I’ve made everything okay now.”

“Miiiraaanda…”

“No, listen. I need you to understand that I’ve already fixed everything, and that I won’t let anything bad happen to you.”

“I’m listening…”

“I’ll also make sure you get out of here a lot sooner than they—"

“Miranda! For the love of god, tell me whatever it is already.”

Miranda took a deep breath, and said, “Someone has been sabotaging your treatment regimen.”

“WHAT?!”

“But it’s okay! I fixed everything! You’re back on everything you need, and nothing you don’t. You’re going to be okay. I’ve got you.”

Wrex roared behind them.

“I knew it! I knew something wasn’t right!”

“How could this have happened?” Grunt asked.

Wrex replied angrily, “Maybe it had something to do with meatballs!”

“Excuse me?” Jack asked, taken aback. She’d been spared that story so far.

“I wasn’t gone that long!”

“It was hours!”

“You see now why I had to beat that guy!”

“Enough!” Shepard shouted at them, “I’m so tired of hearing you two go on about the fucking meatball incident!”

“It doesn’t matter anyway,” Miranda interjected, “It wasn’t something someone could have done to Shepard when no one was watching. It was subtle, a misdiagnosis here and there leading to a treatment plan that was actually going to kill her over time.”

“What?!”

“Or if not kill her, paralyze her forever. Shepard, you’re fine! I already have you back on the right track. Don’t worry yourself over nothing.”

“That’s my cold, hard bitch!”

“Jack…” Miranda protested tiredly, hand to her forehead.

“Do we know who did it?” Wrex asked, “Whose head can I crush?”

“No,” Jack answered, “But the cheerleader and I are about to go follow a lead.”

“I’m not a cheerleader!”

“Don’t let me hold you back,” Shepard told them. She nodded and they knowingly nodded back. It was as good as a direct command to go right away.

“We’ll get on it,” Miranda confirmed.

Jack started walking out of the room, “Let’s go get ‘em, babe!”

Miranda followed her out, “Don’t call me that either!”

The hallways felt tight as they hurried through them. Miranda walked briskly passed Jack, taking over the lead.

“You don’t know where we’re going,” she said.

“Yeah, well, I like going first,” Jack said. Miranda rolled her eyes.

One of Jack’s students had picked up a tip that Hansen’s office should be searched. But then, anyone could have guessed that from taking one look at him.

They left the hospital to take a transport over to what had been made into offices for visiting officials. The building had been quickly converted from an old library. It was covered in burn marks, but still structurally sound. Neither of the women talked on the journey over.

Miranda had set up an office there too, so it provided the perfect cover for their mission. Check out the office, grab any relevant data, get out! All they knew from the tip was that Hansen’s computer had some files related to Cerberus. It wasn’t a strong lead, but it was all they had.

“This is it,” Miranda told Jack when they stood outside the right door. She held her ear to it, ready to turn the handle.

“Move,” Jack said.

“Give me a minute!”

“No, out of the way.”

“Jack!”

“Miranda! See? That’s how you sound. Outta my way.”

She bumped Miranda over with her hips and put her hands to her temples. Her whole head began to glow, and she closed her eyes.

“What are you doing?” Miranda asked.

Jack shushed her.

“Okay,” she said after a bit, “No one is in there, let’s go in.”

She opened the door and led the way. Miranda closed it behind them.

“What was that?” she asked.

“Something you can’t do.”

Miranda huffed but didn’t give Jack the satisfaction of follow-up questions. Despite her burning curiosity.

“Don’t make a mess!” Miranda chided as Jack started picking up and examining the contents of a shelf. “We need to leave everything exactly the way it is.”

“Not if we get enough evidence to nail this guy.”

“What? No. That’s not how anything works. Put that down!”

“Make me.”

Miranda glowered at Jack, “You are a child.”

“Better a child than a cunt,” Jack said, smiling.

“Yeah, well… you’re both. So…”

“Brilliant retort, cheerleader.”

“I told you not to call me that,” Miranda grumbled to herself, turning to examine the computer.

She sat in the desk chair and typed a code into her omni-tool. Jack stopped what she was doing to watch Miranda scan the monitor.

“What are you doing?” Jack asked her.

“Something you can’t,” Miranda smirked.

“Ha… Ha.”

Miranda’s omni-tool pinged.

“We’ve got something here.”

Jack hurried over to her side and hunched over to look at the screen with Miranda.

“Look familiar?” Jack scoffed scathingly. The hidden files they were looking at contained correspondence on Cerberus letterhead.

Miranda was skimming the text.

“Actually… yeah,” she admitted, “I peaked in on this project before I left.”

“Not that I care, but what was it about?”

“It’s an archive. Top secret stuff. I only saw it once, contained pretty much everything Cerberus knew about different topics. Things like AI and dark energy. I never got another look because the Illusive Man started to question my loyalty and revoked my access.”

“So… nothing that concerns Shepard’s shady doctors?”

“Not that I can see. Unless there’s a connection here that isn’t obvious.”

“But this is still good, right? We found something?”

“Yes, Jack,” Miranda responded impatiently. She was trying to make sense of it all.

She shouted once she read the next page, “Yes!”

“Spill.”

“He’s got the archive!” Miranda cheered.

“Download it then, and let’s get the fuck out of here!”

“The main databank isn't here, but I know where,” Miranda said, saving the data on her Omni-tool.

“Hurry up!”

“Wait! …Okay… I’ve got it!”

The door handle turned as Miranda stood up.

“Fuckballs,” Jack cursed.

*                       *                       *                       *                       *                       *

Kaidan sprinted through the halls, aware of only one thing; 4th floor, room 8B.

His breath was hard like the kick of his boots against the tile as he ran, closer to her with every step. Exuberant joy mounted with each second and made it all feel unreal. This wasn’t life. This couldn’t be life.

He knew this moment would come, and he didn’t. There was always that voice. That shrill cry inside him that said he’d lost her forever. The same one that wailed they’d be stranded on Pragia forever. That part of him was wrong once, and it was wrong again.

Shepard was here, and she was alive.

Liara had gotten the news once they were closer to the Local Cluster. The journey across the universe had been rough, unlike anything they were used to. No relays meant long distances in FTL. The fear of fuel running low, the weeks at high speed, and the crumbling state of the Milky Way made the couple months it took to get back feel like years. It had been a relief to the whole crew when they’d docked in the half-burnt, remote mountain town.

Kaidan didn’t stick around long enough to share in the new spirit.

3rd floor. Maybe he should’ve taken the elevator.

His chest pounded visibly as he flew up the steps. He almost tripped as he flung open the 4th floor door.

Almost there. Oh God, he was almost there.

A doctor tried to stop him, startled by the man barreling towards him, “You! Slow down!”

Kaidan, gently, flung that doctor into a wall. No one was getting in his way.

It made a large crash and a scene. No one else tried to stop him.

A large red figure, Urdnot Wrex, appeared in one of the doorways. Kaidan changed direction.

“Do you know who that is?!” Wrex shouted down the hall at the baffled staff, waving Kaidan towards him.

They practically crashed into each other, and Wrex clapped him on the shoulder as he steadied them. Kaidan nodded enthusiastically and panted hard as his hello. Wrex nodded back and ushered him into the room.

Kaidan’s eyelids felt thick, and he struggled to breathe as each inhale smashed into the next.

There she was.

That little red head stood out bright against the dull colors of thin blankets and thick machinery.

[Next Chapter]

[All Chapters]

[artinclined-jointheartside]

Cleanup after the final battle comes with a lot of self-reflection, difficult memories, and unaccepted apologies.

(My former entry for the Our Duet Fanzine.)

[luxaofhesperides]

the beginning - danny

0.

The Lazarus Pit brings Danny back.

The child who went into them, however, is gone forever.

Danyal al Ghul is the soul who should reside in this body. Danyal has a life still to live and Danny died ages ago, old and surrounded by loved ones, ready to spend the rest of his forever in the Infinite Realms.

Something's gone terrible wrong, he thinks rather wryly, squinting through the cold green water that surrounds him. An ache echoes through his body and he brings a hand—small, a child's hand that shouldn't belong to him— to his stomach, where he can feel a large wound slowly pull itself together.

Did I get stabbed?

He means to continue the thought, but a sharp pain hits his head, making him curl up. He gasps and air bursts from his lungs, water rushing to fill in the empty space. Danny chokes, panicking, as memories slide into place, the lives of Danyal al Ghul and Danny Fenton fighting for dominance in his head. His lungs burn, throat working futilely to push water out, but there's nothing to be done.

Danny is a child again, and just like last time, he dies young.

1. So.

Assassins.

Danny honestly can't tell if this is a step up or a step down from mad scientist parents. On the one hand: he knows they loved him, as clumsy as it was, even though they loved their work more. On the other hand: assassin cult sounds like something out of a fairy tale, and while cool, is definitely not safe for kids.

And Danny, somehow, is a child again.

This really wasn't what he expected when he woke up on the sandy bottom of the pit. He's in ghost form, which is an unpleasant shock, but at least its familiar.

He is also, if his memory as Danyal serves him correctly, nine years old.

Kinda sucks that he died so young this time round. Didn't even make it to the double digits before he was taken out of the running.

He can't remember what it was like being so small in his last life. He can't imagine how anyone would look at a child and run them through with a sword. It's a cruel world he's woken up in. It's made worse by the fact that he's alone.

At least being down here without needing to breathe is giving him valuable time to think.

Danny has lived a full life already. He didn't really need or want another one, content to be a full ghost in the Infinite Realms. But going back isn't really an option, now that he's in a new body. The kid he could have been deserves to live fully, and the least Danny can do is live that life for them.

It'll be hard, but Danny's sure he can manage a decent life for himself.

Being presumed dead will make his escape from the assassins easier, though he'll miss getting the chance to meet his new mother; assassin as she is, Danyal knows her not by her blades but by her soft lullabies and jasmine-scented hair. The loss of her child must be hurting her deeply, but it's necessary. If Danny wants any semblance of a normal life, he has to leave her behind.

Besides, he's seen enough death. He doesn't want to ever be the cause of it.

So, he needs a plan for this new life.

Step one: get out of dodge.

The rest he'll figure out on the way.

2.

Turns out assassins weren't the most shocking thing in this new life.

No, that honor goes to superheroes.

Genuine, honest to God superheroes! With powers and everything!

To think that Danny once called himself a superhero. Ha! As if! He's nothing compared to the likes of Superman or the Flash or even Green Lantern. They're in another league. Literally. They're part of the Justice League, which has a whole slew of other heroes, and Danny is possibly their biggest fan.

Not like that's weird; most people in this world are huge fans of superheroes. Makes sense, since they're the ones who rely on their protection the most.

It does suck to know that his background belongs to that of a villain. Assassins aren't known for saving people, after all.

Part of him contemplates becoming a hero again, taking up the role of Phantom and joining the ranks of Superman. But he's had many years to come to terms with the loss of his teenage years and the bitterness that came with it. That experience, that life once lived, helps him decide each time that being a civilian is the gift this life owes him.

At thirteen, Danny lives in a foster home with six other kids. He's the oldest and has his hands full taking care of everyone else while their foster parents work three jobs between them to keep them all afloat.

When his younger siblings play superheroes, he gladly takes the role of the villain, swooping in with a blanket to kidnap away an innocent bystander that has to be rescued. He falls over dramatically at the end of each fight and praises his siblings' strength and teamwork, making them puff up with pride.

It's all fun and games so long as it only stays fun and games.

Superpowers are cool and all, but his came at the cost of his life, his health, his future. He knows, better than anyone, the price of being a hero. He knows that even Superman carries heavy losses on his shoulders, struggles under burdens no one can see.

He's lucky that the small town he ended up in—Luray, Virginia—has no heroes or villains. Too small a place to be on anyone's radar, apparently.

His classmates often complain about how they wish they could live in a big city where there's more to do, more to see, superheroes flying through the streets to protect them.

Danny is happy where he is. It's quiet, and small, and nothing like what he's used to, but it's safe.

That's all he really wants.

3.

Here's something that stays the same no matter what world he's in: Danny is a magnet for trouble.

If the trouble stopped at bullies, everything would have been fine. Danny could handle Dash, and he could handle Justin just as easily.

But the universe loves to escalate with Danny, specifically, which is why Danny had to reveal his powers when some villain-wannabe school shooter attacked his high school.

And to think he felt bad for Jackson when he didn't make it onto the track team.

Luray does not have a meta population. They're too small to have much of a population at all, and much of it is white which made him, half-Iranian, stand out even before he threw out a barrier of ice to protect his classmates a second before the gunfire began.

"Danny?!" his seatmate, Clarrissa, cries out in alarm.

"Everyone get out the window and run for it!" he orders, "I hold him back as much as I can!"

"You can't stay here!"

"Don't worry," Danny says, offering her a tight smile. "He couldn't kill me even if he tried. Now go!"

His classmates hadn't wasted any more time, sending him shocked looks as they escaped the classroom. A glimpse of his reflection in the window revealed glowing green eyes and blue mist wafting out of his mouth.

Looks like his time in Luray is up. He hopes his foster siblings won't be too mad at him for running away.

The gunfire stops, and Danny takes his chance to leap through his ice, intangible, and tackle Jackson, easily knocking the gun away from him.

"Monster!" Jackson spits at him, and Danny laughs.

"Bold of you to say that. I'm not to one trying to kill people."

He doesn't want to hear anything else that comes out of Jackson's mouth, so he knocks the guy out with a solid hit to a pressure point on his neck. Hopefully that'll keep him down long enough for the cops to get him.

Danny stands and means to leave, but something hits the back of his head hard and he's out before he realizes what's happened.

When he wakes up, he's strapped down to a table in what is undeniably a lab, and sighs.

At least he made it to sixteen before he went into another lab. Maybe in his next life he might even get all the way up to twenty before he's pulled back down here.

4. Though he has all his powers and a ghost form, that doesn't mean he is a ghost in this life.

No, he's fully a meta, which means meta-suppressing cuffs work on him.

It's not exactly a discovery he was hoping to have while locked up in a lab, but it's what he's got, so he has to roll with it. The cuffs are heavy on his wrists and around his throat, keeping him from escaping as a group of people in masks and lab coats bustle around, ignoring him.

His head is still foggy, though likely more from the drugs than the hit he took to his head.

He doesn't bothering talking to any of them; they don't see him as human, and Danny's dealt with enough of that in his past life.

Mad scientists love to talk though, so he still hears the gist of their plans: recreating the meta gene for normal people, making a profit from selling powers, getting rich and famous from their accomplishments. They had been using Jackson to get corpses for human testing, but they got Danny instead — someone they can harvest bio material for, a much better find than a couple dead kids.

If he had the energy to rage, Danny would have killed everyone in the room already. They planned to kill his classmates just for test subjects.

He doesn't want to be an assassin, but he'd gladly lean into those old lessons to make sure they never hurt anyone again.

But the cuffs and drugs do a good job of keeping him docile, barely able to think, as they transport him around to different locations and cut him open.

He's not sure how long it's been when they ease up on the drugs a bit. It still takes time for his body to work through everything, and he comes too with a throat that's dry and a stomach that hasn't had anything in it for quite some time.

The first thing Danny does when they start asking him questions is throw up on them.

If they wanted cooperation, they should have treated him better. This is fully on them.

It makes for a convincing argument for food and water and a bathroom break, at least, so he gets what he demands and takes care of his human body under the cold gazes of three scientists.

"You guys suck," he says conversationally. "Keeping test subjects alive is like basic knowledge. No wonder y'all suck at your jobs."

"Your comments aren't needed," one of the scientists says primly. "Get up. We need to study how using your powers affects your body."

They hook a bunch of different things onto him, then lock him in a glass cage and use the cuff around his throat to send jolts of electricity through him when he doesn't do anything. He throws a chunk of ice at them, watching as it breaks apart into small pieces when it hits the glass. The scientists scribble in their notepads, and when they look at him again, he flips them off.

He gets shocked again, but it's worth it.

The process repeats for another few hours, then he's pulled out of the cage, gets an IV stuck in his arm, and drops off into drugged oblivion before he has time to start throwing hands.

5.

It must have been months. Danny's not sure; it's hard to keep track of time when locked in isolation.

He knows he's fed at least once a day. He's been getting a tray of bland food at random times, but he's counted over 50 trays sliding through the little slot on the bottom of his cell door.

Turns out insulting scientists and their procedures is a bad idea, especially when he has the language to really bruise their egos.

So.

Isolation sucks.

But at least they don't drug him anymore!

The cuffs do their job of keeping him in place, and if he didn't have memories of another life to keep him company, he definitely would have lost his mind long ago.

There's other people in here, other metas. He's heard them screaming and begging for mercy. He's heard them go chillingly quiet. He wonders why there are so many superheroes in this world when not a single one has come to save them.

Surely at least one would notice metas disappearing and would investigate?

But no.

No one ever comes to save them.

So Danny needs to figure out a way past the cuffs, and then he can be Phantom again long enough to free the other metas and make every scientist involve pay for their crimes.

He just needs to wait.

He just needs—

6.

When Danny wakes up, the alarms are ringing. It makes his head pound, throbbing with each piercing sound.

He stumbles up, using the wall to keep his balance, and freezes when he sees that the door to his cell is open.

…Huh.

The hallway is bathed in red light when he steps out. No one's around. He wanders around the facility, searching for answers and only finds more questions.

There are other cells, also empty. Certain rooms have blood splattered across the walls and the floor, but no bodies. Labs are destroyed, broken glass on the floor. But every room is empty.

He wanders until he finds what must be a security room. There's a strange device dangling off a keychain on a rack, and Danny eyes it curiously. He runs his fingers around the cuff on his throat, feels the little depression where the collar comes together, and takes the rounded device. If it doesn't work, then it doesn't work.

But if it does work…

The cuff pops open easily, as if it hasn't been his greatest foe these past few months.

All at once, his strength returns to him. He has forgotten what it was like to breathe easily, to feel his powers come to his call so easily, to be reassured that he can take care of himself.

It's almost like coming back to life.

He transforms, settling back into his ghost form with relief, and flies through the facility in search of any other metas that may need help. He finds no one, but he does catch a glimpse of the outside.

The sky is so blue it almost hurts to look at. Part of the facility has been blown apart; rubble surrounds the place and the surrounding forest has been flattened. It looks as though a fight has moved through the area.

Maybe a superhero did come to save them? Rude of them to leave only Danny, though.

He continues his search, poking his head into different rooms and hallways. He finds a staircase going down and follows it into the basement. More labs greet him, and the glow of computers and strange vials of liquid leave him unsettled.

There's a green glow coming around the corner than reminds him of the Lazarus Pit he flew out of, once upon a time many years ago, and that's what draws him forward.

Tucked away in that familiar glow is a small body, floating in a tube of liquid. There's an oxygen mask attached to her face, but that doesn't stop Danny from recognizing her.

"Ellie?"

7.

Just like in one life, Danny is cloned. The difference is that this time, there's no reason for it, no insane godfather trying to recreate a version of him that will choose him.

No, this time it's from a group of scientists who should have known better, who decided to mess around with his genes, and brought his once little sister now daughter into such a cruel, dangerous world.

Danny barely remembers breaking the glass to get her out of there. He doesn't know where he found the coat to bundle her up in, flying out of the facility as fast as he could. He feels sick, knowing it's his fault that she's here now, forced into a painful, terrifying existence because he wasn't strong enough to save himself.

He's a runaway meta victim of mad science. He can't take care of her.

"I'm sorry, Ellie," he whispers to her, pressing a kiss against her head. "I'm so sorry."

She small in his arms. She barely weighs anything.

Danny blinks back tears and tries to find some place he can stop and rest, somewhere safe he can gather his thoughts and figure out his next steps.

This isn't like when he first woke up in this world, with both sets of memories.

This is Ellie.

She deserves more than just a wish and a half-baked plan for a better life.

She deserves a family that wants her, that can care for her, that can protect her. She deserves to grow up normally and not worry about destabalizing or being a replacement for him or being hunted down.

She deserves one life to be a kid and grow up safe and be whoever she wants to be.

Danny will never be able to give her that.

But maybe he can give her to someone who can.

8.

Danyal grew up with an assassin mother and a cruel grandfather who expected far too much from a child. He was taught to kill and be more weapon than child. He was taught the world was something for him to take, to protect, to water with blood.

Danyal was meant to be the next Demon Head, and the next Bat.

Danny knows he can't go to his mother. If they're both lucky, he will never have to see her again. Knowing his luck, he's already planning explanations for why he never went back to her.

Danny's father, on the other hand…

It didn't take much to put the pieces together. The notorious Bat is Batman, Gotham's vigilante and one of the founders of the Justice League. While a child would have been left confused by the many comments his mother made about his father, it was simple enough for Danny to line them up with what he learned about the heroes of this world and realize, oh, that's my dad.

It takes a few weeks of research, using public libraries with Ellie tucked securely in a wrap to his chest, but he's able to learn more about Batman.

The most important thing being that he has kids.

Of course, none of this is officially acknowledged, but everyone knows that the Robins are his kids. Current Robin, especially, likes to remind people that he's 'the son of Batman'.

Okay. Cool.

Danny has siblings.

Awesome.

He's… not looking forward to those conversations.

At least it means more people to look after Ellie. Assuming they take her in, which Danny's really hoping for.

But it's the best he can do, so Danny sets course for Gotham and hopes that just this once, everything will work out.

9.

Meeting the Bats of Gotham is a lot harder than he expected.

A week in the city and he's barely caught more than a glimpse of them. He can't dedicate a lot of time to tracking them down either, needing to break into grocery stores to get food for him and Ellie.

She's so quiet as a baby, and it terrifies him. She's only cried twice the entire time he's had her, and Danny spends every day begging her to hold on.

Time during the day is spent catching naps and researching common vigilante spotting areas in Gotham. He's got a map of Gotham taken from a library and has been steadily marking it up, putting stars in the best places to find a Bat. There are places all over the city, and Danny has no idea how to know which ones are the best.

The only thing he can do is wait at a different rooftop each night, clinging to Ellie, wondering if this is the last night he has with her.

On the ninth night, someone finally arrives.

"Step away from the edge," a voice demands.

Danny turns to see Robin approaching, hands held out as if to catch him. He's bigger than Danny was expecting. Which makes sense; most of the stories Danny got online are from when Robin was a kid, and it's been a few years since then. He must be a teenager now. Older, but still young.

"Robin," he manages to say, his throat tightening. It feels almost like there's a noose around it. It feels like that meta-suppressing cuff has clicked back into place, leaving him helpless.

"Step away from the edge," Robin repeats. "There is no need for this to be your last resort."

"But it is," Danny whispers.

Robin darts forward and wraps a hand around Danny's wrist, yanking him towards the center of the roof. "Why on Earth would you come up here? Surely you must have known that someone would stop you."

"Batman," he gets out. "I need to speak to Batman."

"What for?"

"I'm… I was told, once, that I'm his son."

10. Robin stares at him for a long moment.

Then he takes off his mask.

Danny knows those eyes: he sees them every time he looks in a mirror.

"Danyal," Robin breathes. "You died before I was born."

"I did. Are you…?"

"Mother told me about you."

So he has a little brother. If only he hadn't left first chance he got, he could have known his little brother, gotten away from that place before it hurt him too. Danny has made many mistakes since he arrived in this world. Missing a little brother is perhaps the worst of them.

"Mother…" Danny repeats. "She put me in the Lazarus Pit. I remember that. She didn't want me to die."

"I was born to replace you."

Just like Ellie.

So many mistakes repeating. He's never felt like more of a failure.

"Batman. Our father. He treats you well? You are safe with him?"

Robins brows furrow, but he nods, which is enough for Danny. "Yes. Of course. Isn't that why you're here now?"

"I'm not asking for me." Danny carefully, gently, unwraps Ellie. "I'm asking for her. Please, take care of her. She deserves more than I can give her. Ellie… she'd be your niece."

Robin's eyes are wide. He's frozen until Danny pushes Ellie against his chest, forcing him to lift his arms to hold her.

"Wait, what about—?"

When Robin looks up, Danny's already gone.

It's for the best.

(masterpost for all parts)

[tenowls]

teacher getou au...... wauh

[zarnzarn]

Athena shoots upright as soon as her eyes fly open, gasping. She calls on her spear and slashes in a brutal curve, provoking shouts from the enemies who'd been holding her down as they back off. Bares her teeth in a snarl as she grabs the sheets off the bed to whip at the eyes of the assailants and-

Light floods into her eyes as they step away from her attack and she freezes as she remembers a flash of brightness too fast to escape, heat and burning like never before, electricity that seeped into her very bones, thunder that deafened, lightning that hurt-

"Get back!" She hears and turns unsteadily back to- back to where Apollo is pulling Ares back by the cape against the far wall. Apollo. Ares. Aphrodite, Aephestus, Artemis.

"Wh-" She manages, before she's bowled over, coughing. She has never done it before, and she can't stop it from happening- chest rattling as her knees give out, barely holding herself up with her spear in time to reach the bed. It doesn't stop, doesn't stop, plumes of smoke escaping her mouth as she can't stop, can't breathe-

"Athena," Hera whispers, and a rough hand gently touches her on the shoulder, handing her a glass of nectar. She accepts it gratefully, tilting her head back to down it. It's soothing like it's never been before, stoping the coughing at last and it clears her headache long enough to realize that she isn't in her armour- she's in a chiton.

"Where is my armour?" She rasps as soon as she can, wiping her mouth. Looks around- Apollo's chambers.

She'd always known being the favourite wouldn't protect her forever. But repeating the words didn't seem to reduce the hurt.

Nor the shaking fear.

"-not!" Apollo is saying, indignantly setting his hands on his hips. "Do you have any idea how hard you got hit? You're lucky I could even stabilize your aspect enough to reduce some of the damage, otherwise you'd still be having a seizure back at Mount Olympus!"

"Mount Olympus," Athena mutters oddly, without much intent to it. She tries to stand again and her vision suddenly cuts out, provoking a round of screams as she loses her balance.

When the world blurrily comes back into focus- and she doesn't like this, hates this sudden weakness; she's always been able to get back up from any blow, has never visited a medical chamber in her existence, even when they had to fight the Titans- she's in Ares' arms, oddly horizontal.

"Cease this stupidity, sister," Artemis hisses at her as she grabs onto Athena's arms to bring her back to the bed. "Calm yourself. You are alive. You are safe."

"My armour," Athena says, voice cracking, head rolling oddly on her neck, unable to look upright. She catches a glimpse of Aephastus holding onto a sobbing Aphrodite, staring at her with a strange sort of sorrow.

Something twinges in Athena's chest in reply, but she stumbles before she can address it, feeling a fission of panic at the instability before Ares' grip on her tightens enough to keep her upright. They're all staring at her like that, she realizes, with that same horrified heartbreak.

"Didn't Artemis just tell you to cease stupidity?" Ares barks, though it's rather quietly said, for him. He adjusts her on the bed until she can lean back against the pillows. His hands are shaking, and Athena stares at them with curiosity. "Weren't you the one to lecture me half to death about when to remove the armour?"

"What," She says weakly, then moans as an aftershock trembles through her, residual sparks humming maliciously as they exit her skin, leaving her trembling. "I- hmmm, what? What were- what were-"

"Athena, calm down, please, you're scaring us," Hera says, bangles jangling as she sits down next to her, taking one of Athena's hands with desperation. Athena tilts her head to squint, noticing the tears for the first time, before she shudders as her skin registers the heat, the unbearable heat.

"Scaring?" She murmurs when it stops, voice coming out smaller than she intended it to.

"Her fever keeps rising and falling," Apollo reenters the room before anyone can answer, carrying a large tub of some odd liquid. "Here, help me rub this on her skin, it should extract any remaining- any remaining lightning."

They all move towards the tub at the same time, dipping the cloths provided and then taking positions in a circle surrounding her. Athena stiffens, fingers twitching for a weapon, but the first touch of Hera's drenched cloth on her forehead makes her moan in relief, the blessed coolness of it making her melt back into the sheets. She has no strength to complain or protest when her fellow gods each take a limb to rub at, a sensation both horrifically terrible and unbearably good. She has never taken her armour off in her life.

"Easy, that's it," Apollo says coaxingly, lips downturned like he's trying not to cry. She whimpers as the cloth on her left leg suddenly burns as a spark escapes, instinctively pulling it away, but Aphrodite grabs it before she can and resumes rubbing, whispering apologies. She turns her head and weakly opens her mouth for the herb Apollo lifts to her lips, desperate for relief from the splitting headache.

She can't think. She can't think.

Athena has no idea how long it goes on, how long the other gods ignore their realms to tend to her. Slowly, they strike up a conversation, something light-hearted that she can't follow- different from their never-ending arguments and insults, as they talk about the past year and humourous stories and varied anecdotes.

Athena can't help but relax into it, the soft bed at her back and gentle hands massaging her sore muscles and warmth all around her. Feels something trembling within her since she first became aware of herself settling down with a sigh.

Until she suddenly smells ozone.

Hera and Apollo both notice her tensing up immediately, and look to where she can hear slow footsteps approaching. Apollo growls and shoots out a hand, bringing up the shields of his realm.

The conversation dies down as they all look to the side, at the distinct shadow at the other side of the curtain.

Rage, Athena realises, thoughts slow and muddied. They're angry with him.

"I will handle this," Hera says coldly, with the steel undertone that Athena strives for. She moves her cloth aside and leans down to kiss Athena on the forehead, like a mother would. "You rest, my daughter."

Athena's breath hitches, eyes burning. Nobody has ever cared for her, apart from Zeu-

Nobody has ever cared for her.

... Nobody has-

Hera turns sharply at the noise that suddenly escapes Athena, half hysterical laugh and half distraught wail.

"Did I win?" Athena asks desperately, pushing herself upright, ignoring the protests of the others as she pulls her limbs from their grasp. Hera stares at her and Athena grabs the side of the bed as she tries to lever herself up like a wild animal, demanding in a broken voice, "Did I win?"

A silence that stretches for a painful moment before- "Yes," Aephastus says, putting his hand on her shoulder to guide her back from the edge. "Yes, Athena, you won."

A strangled gasp of relief leaves her, making her light-headed as she leans back against the pillows. She shivers, then sobs- humiliation running through her before she hears an answering noise of sorrow from Aphrodite next to her, pressure all around as her five younger siblings embrace her carefully, gently, like she would break at any moment.

She's not the one who's been raped by a Titan's daughter for seven years.

The thought has her breath hitching, wiping her tears away with a hand that refuses to co-operate the first few tries. "I need to-"

"No," Artemis snaps, glaring at her. "I know you think of nothing but your work, but Athena, you cannot do it this time." Outside, Hera's and Zeus' voices rise as they begin to shout and scream. "You must rest."

"N-no, that's not- aah," She groans as another aftershock rips through her, leaving her panting and soaked in sweat when it's done. "I need to- I need-"

"Hermes has gone to his grandson," Aephastus says soothingly. "Peace, Athena. Your hero is free."

For a moment, it doesn't comprehend and she stares at him blankly. "Free," She repeats, words still infuriatingly faint and lilting. "He's free? I- I need my helmet, where is-"

"No, Athena!"

"Sister, please, you cannot resume your duties, you are in no state!"

"I need my helmet, please, please- just give me my helmet!"

Her cry echoes off the walls and she hears herself when it bounces back to her, broken and pleading and so unlike her she feels nauseous. Her siblings have gone silent and still at her begging, staring at her with shock and horror and fear and sorrow alike. Even Zeus and Hera have stopped talking.

Athena shakes, wishing she could rip this awful vulnerability out of her veins, wishes she could find a stone footing to stand on once more, wishes she wasn't in this horrible chiton.

"Please," She whispers.

Quietly, Aephastus gets to his feet and walks in the direction of the nearby drawers, where she can now see her belongings stacked up haphazardly, blood-stained.

"Sister, you must calm down," Aphrodite pleads. She takes her hands and Athena dazedly looks down at her, with her wide, scared eyes. Seizure, her mind registers finally from Apollo's earlier talk. Ah. She seems to have frightened them all. "You cannot afford a relapse."

Athena squeezes her fingers in acknowledgement, but reaches for the helmet when it's held out, dented and worn.

She touches the metal and feels the full force of seven years of silenced prayers hit her at once.

She's crying before she knows she's doing it, clutching the helmet to her chest as the warmth of the worship wraps around her like a shawl, and holds it tight against her as Ares tries to pry it away.

"No, no!" Apollo intervenes, shifting forward. He touches a hand to the helmet and suddenly the hymn bursts forth around them, loud even though the prayer itself is quiet and broken. Athena inhales at the feeling of it, soothing over the cracks in her own mind with their never-ending continuity, desolate, unbroken faith even when she never came to help-

He's still singing.

She shifts her hands on the helmet to make sure but- yes. Odysseus is calling her, still, at this very moment.

Her head snaps up, but even the dizziness the motion causes doesn't take away from how much clearer the room looks. "Where is he?"

"Sister-"

"If you do not answer me, I will take to the skies myself," She says firmly. "Where is he?"

Her siblings exchange looks.

"Three days out from Ithaka," Artemis replies with a sigh. "On a raft. But listen, wait but an hour, at least absorb these prayers-"

Athena stumbles off the bed and pulls on the helmet, closing her eyes.

"Wait, the bandages-!"

"Athena, you'll hurt yourself, please!"

"Daughter, be careful!"

Athena opens her eyes and looks out at the waves, rough and choppy, but not enough to sink the raft. She looks down and looks at the way the faded clothes don't fit him, the way he has no water left to drink but he still continues to sing.

"Odysseus," She says, and he freezes.

A wave rises and falls. They stay silent, unmoving.

"Won't you look?" The words break out of her, cracked and desperate.

He inhales and exhales, tears in the sound of it. "I don't want to look if you're... if you're not really here."

She swallows against the lump in her throat, takes a step forward. "Well, I-" Her voice cracks, but the fragile grin on her face is real as it spreads, the frailest thread of laughter entering her voice. "I would hope. That if you were hallucinating of me, that the spectre would at least have wisdom enough to tell you that you were."

Odysseus sobs and her heart cracks, feels his heart cracking in turn; yet it is akin to a misaligned bone that never healed right and has to be reset- she can hear the laughter before it comes, with relief coming from the brink of madness, with joy they'd both forgotten and missed. "It is you."

"I could not reach you on Ogygia," She blurts out, desperate to make him understand. "Could not hear your call. I would have come the second time you prayed, if I had."

"It is you," He whispers, swaying. A wave rises suddenly and they both burst into movement, grabbing ropes and pulling the mast, balancing together to keep it steady.

The wave passes. They are almost touching now.

"Won't you look?" Athena asks again, raw and grieving. "Odysseus. My companion, my friend. Please."

He turns at that, a stunned expression on his face- before it turns into wide-eyed horror as he looks at her. She laughs breathlessly, slightly dizzy, but- her friend. How lovely it is to see him again.

"Athena!" He rushes forward with unexpected vitality, the parts of him that she knew suddenly rising to light in his eyes, in his movements, becoming unhidden from the defeated, beaten figure he'd been moments before. "What in Gaia's name-"

"I'm sorry," She interrupts as she slumps forward into the hands on her arms, off-balance. "I should have tried better to understand, all those years ago. I understand now and I- Odysseus, I am-"

"Athena, shut up," Odysseus snaps, clearly panicking. She laughs again, because isn't it such a novelty, to have a person who will have the audacity to tell her to? "Of course it's forgiven, I'm sorry too, I should have fucking listened back then- but listen, what in Hades happened to you? Why do you look like this- why do you have bandages- Hermes wouldn't answer when I asked if something happened to you, fuck-"

"Peace," Athena rasps, even as her vision blinks in and out, forcing her to kneel. They both grimace as another wave crashes into the raft, but they don't upturn. Odysseus kneels down with her, staring at her with such worry and concern she can feel nothing but fondness. "The disagreements of gods are often violent."

"Gods-" His eyes flicker to the side of her face, and he frowns, reaching out to push back the helmet. She bends her face down to let him, feeling an odd burning on the left side that she has a vague bad feeling about- proved right when Odysseus' expression falls into blank horror. "You got into a fight with-"

"Yes."

"But he's your-"

"I know. He did not take kindly to my petition to release you," She smiles dryly, without mirth.

"To release me?" Odysseus wheezes, face cracking into anguish and disbelief alike. "Athena, what- I- I'm not worth-"

"It was worth it," She snaps. "Consider it my penance for abandoning my own. I certainly don't regret it."

"I never felt abandoned," Odysseus whispers, taking her hands as she shifts, supporting her body with his own as they lean against the mast. She looks at him, and remembers why Penelope is still weaving, why he's still out on the waters, why Ithaka is waiting out the suitors till Telemachus takes the throne. "I always knew you would come back. I just figured it would take ten years more, perhaps."

Athena is silent for a bit, absorbing that. And then, because she can't hold it back any longer- "I am sorry about your men." His breath hitches under her and she turns to take him in her arms, knowing what's coming. "I am sorry about your friends."

He sobs, ugly and loud, and she holds him tighter. "I am sorry that Titan's whelp had you for so long, and what she did to you. I am sorry the Fates were so unkind."

"Athena," He keens, finally falling to pieces. The sobs are mere loud gasps for air at first, before it dissolves into wailing, screaming, grieving for all the men they'd kept alive through a war, only to lose them to this cruel tragedy instead. Even she hadn't known- hadn't anticipated how wrong things would go after she left. Hadn't even thought that he hadn't reached home.

"It's all my fucking fault," He shouts, shaking. "If only I had- if only-"

"It is not. No one could have known," She whispers. "The Fates are unknown to us all."

He sobs louder and she closes her eyes.

But finally, their tears dry up. She holds him still, as the night fades and the sun rises again, trying to take his hurt into herself so he can be happy again.

"I am sorry," She whispers, seaspray around them. "That my enemies became your own. That I pushed you so hard. That I chose you, and brought pain to your life so."

"Hey now," Odysseus says, pulling back to look at her, a broken smile on his face. "Hold your blasphemous tongue, before you insult the wisdom of Pallas Athena." She laughs, even as tears spill over. "Even if I had the chance to choose again right at this moment, my goddess, I would still choose you."

"That means more than you know," Athena murmurs, overcome. She gathers all her strength and reaches out to run a hand over his head, soothing his mind and driving away the last tendrils of madness that were still holding onto him. He sighs and relaxes under her, some visible weight lifting from his shoulders. "Still. I will learn from my mistakes. If you would give your old friend a chance-"

"Stop right there. Of course I-" Odysseus scoffs, reaching out to hold her left cheek for emphasis. "Athena, your left eye is half gone."

"Ah. Well, that explains the depth perception," She mutters, then bursts into giggles at the incredulous look on his face.

"Are you drugged?" Odysseus demands, but he's already trying not to laugh himself. They both move on fast. "What am I saying, of course you are- have you been drugged this whole time? Who on Earth drugged you?"

"That would be me," Apollo says, crossing his arms.

Odysseus snarls, grabbing his sword and swinging wildly in an arc, half-animal in his panic, pushing Athena behind him.

"FUCKING- whoa, hey, calm down, it's her brother, it's Apollo!" Apollo half-shrieks inelegantly, jumping back. "Honestly! Athena, call off your hero, please."

"Apollo?" Odysseus tilts his head, lowering his sword and narrowing his eyes.

Apollo stares at him. "Wow, you two- really do act the exact same, huh. Yes, Apollo, god of please let me change your fucking bandages, do you mind?"

Odysseus bows and murmurs apologies, clearly wary of getting into more trouble, but to her mild surprise walks behind Athena instead of to the other side of the raft.

"I don't need assistance," She mutters to him, even as she grimaces at the length of the chiton as she tries to pull herself upright.

"You're still dizzy," Odysseus points out, settling in behind her to hold her steady. He wipes at the tears still on his face and smiles at her. She manages a half-smile back. "Do you need to go back to Olympus?"

"Yes," Artemis crosses her hands and Odysseus' fingers tighten painfully on her shoulders.

"I'm not quite certain there's space for so many on this raft," Athena mutters.

"It's a magical raft, it'll survive- but never mind that, could you not have at least sent a message that you were okay?"

"Well, maybe you should have thought of that before running off without a word!"

"Really, daughter, you should know better!"

Odysseus grip is bruising now, and his sword is in front of Athena protectively; she can already tell what moves he's planning to use if they choose to attack. "Who..?" He asks lowly.

"Pantheon. At ease," She replies back shortly, before looking up at the others. "I thank you, my fellow go- my family, for your worry and concern. But we are only two days out from Ithaka and I would like to see this journey completed."

"You are not going to see yourself completed, if you don't rest," Apollo says, roughly at the exact same time that Athena undermines her own argument by throwing up on the raft.

"Athena, go," Odysseus says urgently when it's over, handing her helmet back to her and adjusting her cape as Hera kneels down beside her to hand her another glass of nectar, looking at him oddly. Odysseus grimaces and changes his tone. "I will be fine, patroness. I'll call for you when I reach the shores."

Movement catches her eye and she sees Ares remove his own helmet, giving her a reproving look. She remembers the speech he was talking about now- the one she'd loudly ranted at him when she was drunk a year ago, thinks about how much more at ease he is now.

"Alright," She acquiesces and everyone breathes a sigh of relief. "Two days."

Mania fills Odysseus' eyes as he smiles back, finally home from a war twenty years ago. "Two days."

Athena grins, even as she feels Hera wrap an arm around her to take her away. "Penelope is waiting."

Odysseus' eyes widen, then fill with tears, like he'd never quite truly let himself believe it; but his smile is wide and true. "Penelope is waiting. Thank you, Pallas Athena."

"You don't thank friends," She murmurs, exhaustion settling in. Odysseus laughs and the last thing she feels is a warm hand on her cheek and their foreheads pressed together, before the world goes black and she knows no more.

[zanarkandfayth]

Gladio has only a split-second for his eyes to widen, his mouth falling open in an expression of shock that Noct hopes he's gonna remember for a long time, and then he frantically scrambles to get out of the way of the lure rushing towards his face.

This week’s word is…

✨ SECOND ✨

Find the word in any WIP and share the sentence containing it. Reply, reblog, stick it in the tags, tag us in a new post, or keep it private. All fandoms, all ships, all writers welcome.

[loveinhawkins]

”How do you do it?” Eddie asks.

The question slips out far too late at night, anxiety thrumming in his chest—he’s not escaped the feeling ever since the boathouse, when he simply couldn’t sleep, felt like a fox just waiting for hound dogs to get his scent, ready to run—

Steve doesn’t need him to explain further, as if he can somehow hear a whole lot of what Eddie’s not saying: like when he picked up the phone an hour ago and hadn’t even let Eddie tie himself in knots, had just said, so easily, “I’ll come get you,” like it wasn’t a huge inconvenience, like he’d been the one to call Eddie instead.

He’s considering Eddie from where he lies in bed, leaning on his elbow, and he’s still got the covers off pointedly—and that’s a big thing, Eddie thinks, a big thing he doesn’t know what to do with, because they’ve not talked, not really, not got much beyond the dizzying relief of still being alive.

But even fraught with profound lack of sleep, Eddie doesn’t think he’s misreading the look in Steve’s eyes.

I know, those eyes say, illuminated by the warm light of the bedside lamp. It’s okay, there’s no rush. I’m right here.

Eddie’s never seen that kind of look before. Not towards him.

“Sometimes Robin sleeps over,” Steve says thoughtfully. “And sometimes the kids are around, and they’re so annoying and I get, like, three hours, tops.” He says it with all the fondness in the world. “And sometimes I’m alone, and it’s fine.”

“What about the other times?” Eddie can’t help but whisper.

If it were a reasonable hour maybe he wouldn’t dare to ask at all, but exhaustion’s worn down the filter in his head—at this point it’s practically see-through.

Steve shrugs. “Yeah, they’re shit,” he says with such honesty that Eddie nearly asks it again, how do you do it?

“But then it’s, like, a new day,” Steve says slowly, like he’s carefully weighing up what to say, “and I can… drive.” The pause tells Eddie he means go to someone. “Or, like… call, if it’s really bad.”

Hey, I’m glad you called, man, Steve had said when Eddie got into his car earlier, like they were just going to the movies or something normal—like Eddie wasn’t shaking, forehead pressed against the passenger window.

Eddie feels his throat close up a little. Tries to sniff as quietly as possible.

“Eddie,” Steve says patiently. He moves back in the bed. Gives Eddie space. “C’mere.”

Steve keeps the lamp on which helps; this isn’t the boathouse, Eddie thinks, and the slightest bit of tension leaves his body. Even that feels like a miracle.

He’s just resigning himself to lying there, staring up at the ceiling so at least Steve can get some rest, when Steve turns and catches his eye, still wide awake.

“Tell me about The Lord of the Rings,” Steve says.

The tightness in Eddie’s chest loosens; he laughs in surprise. “What?”

“You heard me.”

Eddie turns so he’s facing Steve properly, attempts a casual shrug, knowing already that it’ll be too rigid. “I don’t know, man. We, uh. We kinda lived through Mordor already.”

His hand twists in the bedsheets, knuckles turning white.

I don’t know how to do this. I’ve never had…

Steve’s hand reaches across, eases Eddie’s grip on the sheets, like he’s saying, neither did I. Just give it a shot.

“The shire, then,” Steve says.

Eddie smiles. “Steve Harrington,” he says, suddenly finding enough lightness to tease; he’s missed it. “Are you asking me for a bedtime story?”

“Nope,” Steve says. “We’re just gonna lie here and talk.”

And they do.

Steve asks questions which works out for the best—Eddie can’t quite remember the last time he read the books. To tell the truth, anything that happened before March often has a kind of fog over it.

He’s sure he’s dropped at least a couple of plot points somewhere along the way, but Steve never once complains that he’s not making sense, just gently prompts Eddie until… until…

“Mm, I know what you’re doing,” Eddie mumbles through a yawn that catches him unawares.

“Oh, do you now?” Steve says, sounding smug. God, Eddie loves him. “Is it working?”

“Maybe.” Eddie says. His eyelids are heavy. “Um.” He yawns again. “Where… where was I?”

“Don’t worry about it, man,” Steve says. It sounds like he’s smiling—Eddie would check, but it’s suddenly impossible to keep his eyes open.

It’s okay, he thinks hazily, melting into sleep without even thinking about it. He can ask Steve in the morning.

There’s no rush.

[shmorp-mcdurgen]

A couple random Aftermath Gman doodles (feat. a freaked out Gordon)

[dragonpyre]

Here have a snippit for a fic I'll never write

"Jeez, what crawled up his ass and died?” Jason asked, watching as Bruce stalked out of the room. The silence that met him though made him turn to look up. “It’s April 27th,” Dick rasped. Like that somehow explained everything. “And? What, did I miss Passover or something?” Next to him, Tim flinched. Dick however… his eyes grew moist and his face fell. Before Jason could even think to ask what was wrong, the man had turned around and escaped the room. He looked about to cry. “Okay, what the hell?” Jason voiced. Because seriously, what the hell? “Jason,” Tim piped up carefully. “You died today.”

[sorinethemastermind]

Only One Tent

You've heard of the only one bed trope, but what about only one tent and no bed? Aka the "Yes, you can use me as a pillow" prompt won the poll. #Sorvus

 Soren had shared a tent with Corvus before. One of the first things King Ezran had done after reclaiming the throne had been to travel across Katolis; visiting every town and hamlet, no matter how small. Soren had accompanied him, of course. It was his duty as a Crownguard to ensure that the king remained safe. And though Corvus hadn't been a member of the guard at the time, he had traveled with them anyway. Their trusty guide to the woods and wilds of Katolis.

 He was such a tree guy. It was kind of cute.

 For the first week or so of their travels Corvus had insisted on sleeping outside, saying that the stars made a better roof than a canvas tent. Soren had tried to point out that the whole thing with stars was that there was no roof, but Corvus had just rolled his eyes and claimed that he was missing the point. 

 However as they'd traveled further north the nights had become colder, and eventually even Corvus had been forced to admit that the stars didn’t trap heat as well as good old canvas. So Soren had offered to share his tent with him. And, though he'd declined the offer at first, it hadn't been long before the pair of them were pressed back to back in Soren's tent, savoring each other's warmth as the snow fell outside. It had been warm, cozy, and wonderful.

 And somehow less uncomfortable and awkward than whatever it was they were doing now.

 Soren glanced over at Corvus from his side of the tent. The other man sat on the opposite side of the small canvas room, knees drawn up to his chest and arms folded. As much distance between them as there could be in the cramped little space.

 Soren cleared his throat. "Don't you think we should be helping? I feel like we should be helping."

 "King Ezran told you to rest." Corvus reminded him, barely sparing him a glance. Soren wondered if it was because of how many times he'd had to say that, or if it was something else. Like, maybe, he didn't know; the fact that they had kissed twenty minutes ago and the king had walked in on it.

 "But don't you think-"

 "King Ezran." Corvus repeated, putting extra emphasis on the words this time." Told you to rest."

 Soren let out a loud hmph. Ezran had said a lot of things. Like how the destruction of Katolis wasn't his fault. And how there was nothing more he could have done. And how the people were lucky to have had him there when they did. And those just obviously weren't true. So then, maybe he didn't need to rest either?

 "Why don't you get some sleep?" Corvus urged him gently, shifting a little bit closer. Soren looked up at him through the curtain of blond hair that had fallen across his face. He hadn't realized his head was drooping. 

 Straightening up, he rolled his shoulders. "Nah, I'm fine."

 "You haven't slept in nearly two days."

 "But." Soren pointed out. "I have drunk more hot brown morning potion in those two days than any other. So I'm wide awake! Really, we shouldn't even be in here. We should be out helping."

 He began to reach for the tent flap, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him. His friend's - boyfriend's? - grip squeezed slightly as he spoke.

 "Soren. Are you okay?"

 The question caught him off guard.

 No. He was not okay. But people didn’t usually ask so he didn’t usually have to lie. Anyway, what did it matter? He was used to it. It would be weirder if he was okay at this point. Was anybody ever really okay, anyway? 

 "Yeah. Of course." Soren flashed a wide smile in Corvus' direction. "Why wouldn't I be?"

 "Because..." Corvus trailed off, too many reasons to name them all. "I'm just worried about you."

 Soren paused, his smile faltering. Then it was replaced by a smaller, genuine one. “You don’t need to be… Corvy?”

 Something in Corvus’ expression told him this nickname wouldn't stick any better than the others he had tried. 

“Alright, not Corvy.” he said. “How about-”

 “How about you rest like the king ordered?”

 “Fineee.” Soren groaned, letting the tent flap drop from his hand. “Just for an hour.”

 He flopped back down onto the ground, feeling the corners of his armor jab into his sides, the sticks and stones littering the dirt floor of the tent poking into his back. The saying should have been sticks and stones can break my bones, and they sure as heck make it impossible to sleep too.

 For a split second he wished he had accepted the bedroll Opeli offered him, if only so that Corvus wouldn’t be stuck lying on the cold, stony ground. But the selfish thought fled just as quickly as it had come. The hospital needed them more. He would have given them this tent too, had Opeli not insisted it was too small to be of any use. 

 And it was small. Corvus laid down on the ground beside him, the forced proximity making their shoulders bump. Not that Soren was mad about that. He tried to stop wiggling, for Corvus’ sake. If he needed rest, then his friend - partner? - definitely did. He’d ridden for days just to get here, and now was worried about him? 

 But knowing that they both needed to rest didn’t seem to make sleep any more attainable, and they both spent the next ten minutes staring at the canvas roof above them, eyes wide open, elbows and shoulders gently bumping into one another each time they moved. Unable to do anything else without disturbing Corvus, Soren had to be content simply wiggling his toes. Which, he realized after a moment, were sticking slightly out of the tent. It really was small. Or he was just big. It was probably that last one. He was a prime physical specimen, after all.  

 "What are you doing?" Corvus asked, rolling onto his side to look over at Soren.

 “I, uh, nothing. I’m resting.”

 Corvus didn’t seem convinced, so Soren rolled over to face him so he could properly explain why this should count as resting and now they could get up and go help. The words died on his lips when he realized that, in this new position, their faces were mere inches apart. Corvus’s hair tickled his forehead and their noses bumped as he shifted.

 “Really?” Corvus asked, his breath warm on Soren’s face. 

 Soren reached out and poked his nose.

 “What was that for?” Corvus asked, sitting up in his surprise.

 “It was right there, what did you want me to do!?” Soren asked, rolling onto his back to look up at him, blowing the hair out of his face. 

 Corvus blinked a few times, the color in his cheeks deepening. Then he looked away. “What are we, Soren?”

 Soren’s heart dropped and he sat up, propping himself up on one elbow as he looked over at his friend of two years. “I, uh. What do you want to be?”

 He knew what he wanted. And for a second there, when they’d kissed, he’d thought maybe that was what they were now. That maybe they were a thing. But the way he’d asked that… now he wasn’t so sure.

 Corvus took a deep breath and let it out slowly before replying. “I thought that maybe… maybe it was just the adrenalin, or the rush of having survived. Of both of us being okay. But what I would like is for it to have been… more than that.”

 Corvus looked at him, his eyes kind and smiling in that way Soren loved so much.

 “Corvus. We almost die, like, every day.” he pointed out. “And we’ve never done that before.”

 “But-”

 He stopped him with a quick kiss, which became a few kisses, and he felt that addressed Corvus’ concerns pretty well. 

“So… can I tell everyone that you’re my boyfriend now?” he asked, finally drawing back. 

 Corvus lay back down on the ground, crossing his forearms behind his head as a kind of makeshift cushion. “I suppose you can.”

 “Yes!” Soren flopped onto the ground beside him, punching a fist in the air. “I guess we already sort of told Ezran.”

 “I can’t believe…” Corvus trailed off, shifting so that he could pinch the bridge of his nose with one hand as he closed his eyes. He sighed. “What’s done is done.”

 “Yep!” Soren said cheerily, not feeling a drop of regret. “He was going to find out eventually.”

 He shifted uncomfortably on the uneven, stony ground. He’d forgotten how jabby it was. A stone pressed into the back of his head and he sat up, shoved it away, and laid back down. And just as quickly sat back up. 

 “Sorry, I didn’t mean to lie on you. I can move over.”

 “That would sort of defeat the point of me putting my arm there.” Corvus said, and Soren realized that it hadn’t been an accident. Corvus scooted a little closer, stretching his arm out further towards him. 

 “You hurt your head, Soren. The last thing we need is you banging it against a rock.”

 “So… you’re saying that I should use you as a pillow.”

 “Yes. I am a pillow.”

 “And you’re a pillow… for my health?”

 “What else would it be for?”

 Soren just smiled and lay back down, resting his head gingerly on Corvus’ proffered arm. One of the perks of working out, it seemed, was that muscles could double as pillows. More people should tell you that. He would have to keep it in mind. 

 Corvus rested his other arm across his chest, fingers absently playing with a torn edge on Soren’s armor. Curled up together in the warm closeness of the tent, Soren finally felt himself relax. He hadn’t realized how on edge he’d been until it all washed away. 

 Sure, he had a lot of work to do and there were people out there that needed helping. But he could take a couple minutes to shut his eyes, and just listen to the sound of Corvus’ slow breathing beside him, and the rustle of the tent in the wind.

 Anyway, Corvus needed to rest, and if Soren got up to go and help out around camp he was sure to follow. So really, the only way to make sure that his boyfriend got some sleep was to get some himself. 

 Soren closed his eyes, letting himself relax for the first time in at least two days, probably longer, and with a stifled yawn sleep took him.

[ficbrish]

Finished Chapter 3! 🥳

It only took me a year lol

I'm giving it one last read-through and then I'm ready to post it!

Catch up here: [AO3] [Tumblr]

Snippet:

“It’s locked.” Miranda stated it like a fact she already knew.

“Let me try it,” Jack suggested, pushing her out of the way before tugging on the handle a few times herself.

“It’s locked.”

“That’s what I just said!” Miranda exclaimed, shoving Jack aside to deal with the lock herself.

“Okay, relax. Geez.”

[crsssie]

frog - jinshi x reader (Spoiler Warning for Chapter 63 of the manga)

"hng." Jinshi whimpers, face flushed as you freeze.

It's a frog. You fucking swear it's a frog. You didn't just accidentally grab and squeeze Jinshi, a fucking eunuch's, dick. You did not. You are hallucinating. That was the frog that jumped on you and knocked you off balance— nOT Jinshi's dick or whatever. He shouldn't even have one!

"Sorry." You sit up, legs still straddling Jinshi as you get off of his chest. "I saw a frog and fell."

Jinshi sits up with you, face flushed in embarrassment as you pray you can play stupid out of this one. It was hard enough that he literally witnessed you hurl a rock at the assassin with eerie precision, but you would rather die than have to die with Jinshi because you found out he wasn't a eunuch.

Every day your loyalty is tested when around this man.

"That makes this way easier." Jinshi sighs, grabbing you by the shoulder as you tense up to lean back from him. "I have a confession to make. I—"

"I think I killed the frog." You mumble, face pale. You're acting. You have to. You are not following Jinshi to the grave and cleaning up the aftermath of his ass getting someone pregnant.

"No, listen, that wasn't—"

"Oh my god, I'm not gonna make it to heaven." You mumble again, staring at your hand before wiping it on your chest. "Master Jinshi, I'm going to hell."

"No, that wasn't—"

"I'm going to hell because I crushed a frog..." You mumble.

Jinshi gets fed up with your acting, pushing you backward into the dirt as he cages you in, lifting your leg as he presses his clothed erection into you. You yelp, trying to crawl away, but he holds you in place, eyes staring through yours to your soul as you shake underneath him. Playing stupid didn't work this time.

"That was not a frog," and he rolls his hips against yours for emphasis, watching as you mentally restrain yourself from moaning. God, since when were you this lewd?! "Stop playing stupid, pretty one. You gave it a good squeeze too."

You freeze up as he lowers himself ever so slowly, and you blurt your thoughts out before you can think of what the best choice is at the moment.

"I am not having my first kiss on the dirt in a cave!" You cry, praying that it's enough. Seriously, you aren't following Jinshi to the grave. He may be hot, and women may throw themselves at him and men turn gay for him and nations go to war for him but you are not following him to the grave. Your loyalty does not lay that strong. You don't want to die just yet.

Jinshi leans in anyway, lips brushing yours as a bark sounds above you as you call back, and you sigh in relief when you hear Maomao's voice.

You're saved. Oh heavens, you're saved.

[sketchydistortion]

remeber when he killed a man

[morbidmira]

wholesome caretaking/recovery prompts

Changing bandages

"You've got visitors."

Cuddling

Displays of trust

Wheelchairs/Assistive devices/Helping them walk

"I made your favorite food."

Hot drinks - hot chocolate, tea, or apple cider

Tears of frustration

Witness protection (or canon equivalent)

Boredom

Washing/brushing/cutting hair

Fainting/collapsing from exhaustion

"You're safe now, I promise."

Sweets/baking

Forehead kisses

"Haven't seen you in awhile, where have you been?"

[fantastic-nonsense]

someone needs to do an issue tag fic to that one New Teen Titans issue where Dick gets tortured by Brother Blood for hours and then promptly turns around and still manages to be coherent and determined enough to save the Titans from certain death via cave monster the second they throw him back in the hole with the rest of his friends