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prolestariwrites · 4 years

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Open For Me [1]

Fandom: Devil May Cry Characters: Vergil/Reader Tags: Explicit sexual content, First time, First love, Violence, Death, Implied dubcon, Implied drug-induced sex Rating: M Part: 1 of 5

Summary: Vergil's life has been difficult as far back as he can remember, until he meets a young woman who saves his life. Can she save it again when he learns the truth of who he is, and bring him back from a dark and dangerous fate? A five-part story of pre- and post-canon Vergil. A/N: I’ve been working on this fic for months and I’m excited to finally be publishing. Thank you especially to @wordborne and @solynacea for feedback on this story. Credit to @drusoona for the Vergil pic above and the many sent my way that helped immensely. This story is written and will update every Friday, five parts in total.

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Chapter 1: February 1994

That’s the problem with being the strong one. No one offers you a hand. —m. t.

“Come on,” you whisper as you unlock the front door and slip inside. Vergil follows, and you lean around him to quietly press the door shut and turn the deadbolt with a click. Pausing, you listen for any sound, but the house is dark and quiet. The truck outside means that at least your stepfather is home, but it’s late enough he’s probably sleeping off whatever he drank for the day. Mom is working nights, so no chance of running into her.

You don’t bother to turn on any of the lights, leading Vergil carefully up the steps, making sure to avoid the one that squeaks. His presence behind you makes your senses heightened, because if either of your parents found out you brought a boy home they’d have your ass and you’d be lucky to make it out alive. You hadn’t said as much to Vergil, but he seems to know instinctively, and he is silent as he follows you up to your room in the third-floor attic.

Once safely inside, you shut and lock your door before flipping on the bedside lamp. The room is bathed in warm light, and you turn nervously to see what he thinks. Vergil surveys the room, his face expressionless, but you breathe a sigh of relief when he nods. “It’s nice,” he says.

“Thanks.” Suddenly embarrassed, you gesture to your bed. “Want to sit down?”

“Sure.” He drops his bag quietly and kicks off his shoes, well-worn boots that are too expensive to belong to him. Everything he has is too expensive to be his, the leather jacket that he shrugs off and hangs on the doorknob, the chain around his neck that holds something under his dark t-shirt.

Vergil is a street kid, one of the many that roam around selling drugs and shoplifting to get by, but he’s different. Even though everything he owns is surely stolen and he doesn’t go to school or have a job, he’s not like the other punks who hang out on the corners. You had seen him around a bit, coming into the community center once in a while when they hand out box lunches or to rummage through the clothes bin. There had been something about him, some kind of air that made him stand out from the usual homeless kids; as if he didn’t really belong, as if he was from somewhere else, some time else.

Finally your curiosity got the better of you. You hang there too, a place to go that’s not home, and one afternoon as he was looking around with a scowl, you dared to go over.

“I’ve seen you before,” you said, looking him up and down.

“No you didn’t,” he had answered.

To your surprise, he had actually seemed almost alarmed. So you changed tactics and asked, “You need some help?”

“I don’t need help,” he said. “I’m looking for a phone.”

You jerked your chin to the side. “Payphones are over there. Need a quarter?”

“Thanks.” He had taken your quarter and made a call, and afterward you told him about the shower in the back he could use if he wanted. He had hesitated, but then nodded, and twenty minutes later when he had emerged with his silverish hair all wet and slicked back you were almost in love.

He kept turning up, and whether you made sure to run into him or he made sure to run into you, you didn’t know. But somehow when you were there, he was too. You learned his name was Vergil, and he was on his own, seventeen years old, just like you. You are a senior in high school, but he never went, and you laughed when he seemed surprised at the suggestion.

“Where do you live?” you had asked him one day as you helped him load some clothes into the washing machine.

“Wherever I can,” he had answered shortly.

“You can stay with me, if you ever get stuck.”

Like most of the teens that frequent the center, Vergil started to help around the place, but most of the time he just hung around, watching you do homework or sweep the floor, using the place to shower and get dinner or just take a nap in the TV room.

It’s cold tonight though, so when you offered a place again, he actually said yes. It still surprises you, butterflies fluttering in your stomach as you watch him sit carefully on your mattress. He looks so out of place on your pink bedspread, which is too thin and too short but all you have. “Are you hungry?” you ask.

“Not really,” he answers. “Why are we being so quiet?”

You blush furiously at the question, moving to pick up some things you had tossed on the floor. “My stepdad is probably sleeping. He can be mean when you wake him up.”

“Sounds like an asshole.”

“Yeah,” you snort. You peek over your shoulder. “Not much longer though. I’m graduating in June and then I’m fucking out of here.”

“You’re leaving?”

You nod and dump the clothes in the hamper. “Yeah. I’ve been saving for a place. Gonna go to the city, get a job waitressing or something and try to take some classes. I want to be a nurse.”

Vergil considers this and nods. “You’d be good at that. When are you leaving?”

Shrugging, you reply, “I don’t know. This summer. Why, you want to come?”

His eyes widen slightly, then he surprises you again by nodding. “Yes. I’ll come.”

You smile and move to the bed, pressing your knee to the mattress as you straddle one of his legs. “Good,” you say, your arms going around his shoulders as his wraps around your waist. Then you lean down to kiss him, and your mouths seal together with a sigh as you settle on his lap.

It was two weeks ago when you had first kissed Vergil, stealing one when you were saying goodnight before heading home. You had been staying later and later just to hang out with him, and he was a regular now, there just to see you. Vergil even started walking you home, although you made him leave you at the corner, afraid your parents would see you walking up with a boy they wouldn’t approve of. It had been nothing more than a peck, but the next night he had kissed you properly, and every night since, leaving you in a daze when you turned down the block to your house.

His mouth is just as hot, just as firm, his lips lingering over yours. He slides his palms over your hips before slipping under your shirt, and you nibble on his lip as his fingers move upwards, his touch on your bare skin making you shiver.

The room is quiet, the only sound your heavy breathing mingling as he takes off your shirt and you unbutton his jeans. Shyly you undress before he climbs over you, and you run your hands over his chest, his body just lean muscle. Hanging on a thin chain is a red jewel, and you pause to examine it as he cages you in with his arms. “This is beautiful,” you whisper, but he cuts off any other remarks with another kiss.

His eyes are intense as he slides between your thighs. “Open for me,” he whispers. The red pendant hangs between you, the bedroom light making it sparkle just a bit, and when he lowers against you it presses firm and cool against your breasts. It’s your first time, and you wonder if it’s his too, but you’re too scared to ask because neither answer will honestly make you happy. So you pull him into another kiss as the head of him nudges against your opening, sighing into his mouth as he presses inside.

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Vergil sits on the edge of your bed, elbows on his knees, and thinks. Sleeping on a mattress had felt almost foreign to him, it had been so long; even on the nights when he ended up in a shelter or crashing at someone’s place, it was on the floor, or at most a couch. A real bed with a real pillow and blanket had given him a strange sort of unease, so he had spent most of the night watching you sleep, pleased with that at least.

The clock on the bedside table reads ten minutes until seven. He should go, but he is reluctant. It is bitterly cold outside, telltale frost on the window that shows the temperature is below freezing. It’s also Saturday, which means that the places he would normally go to, like the library or the mall, will open later than normal. He is also wary of running into someone on the way out and getting you in trouble. Even though he knows the way through your house already, having memorized it like second nature on the way in, a wayward creaky step or a loose board in the floor could alert someone he is there, and that would be disaster.

Most of all, though, he doesn’t want to leave you. Vergil glances over to see you still asleep, his lips curling into a small smile as he presses his mouth to his fingers. Last night had been… unexpected. But it was exciting and lovely and your kindness in giving him a place to stay was only second to how amazed he had been when you kissed him. He is always amazed by you: like a bright star, he thinks, something that gives life and warmth. But he is cautious, always cautious, because too much sun could burn.

Something shifts in the house, prickling along the back of his neck, and Vergil knows he made the right choice. A few minutes later there are footsteps in the hallway below, a door opening and closing, running water. Some muffled words and more footsteps, then the house falls quiet again, whoever it had been visiting the bathroom now back to sleep. Still, his presence is dangerous for them both, and they could have easily met on his way out.

You shift on the bed, your hand sliding along the bedsheet in your sleep. Deciding on staying, he lays back down, folding his arm around you to pull you against his chest. You are wearing one of his shirts, something that had made him snort when you asked, but it was endearing and Vergil was happy to lend something. Your legs curl around his and he sighs, trying to enjoy the peace and quiet.

How long has it been for him to have such a moment? Childhood, probably, before Dante would wake up in a ball of frenetic energy and tear through the house, feet slapping on the floor and his voice echoing down the hallway. Vergil would lay in bed like this, or sit on the windowsill, watching the snow fall or the leaves dance on the wind or the flowers peek out from the tree outside his window. Dante’s room was across the hall, but that had been Vergil’s place to himself, his thinking spot.

He looks out the window, swallowing uncomfortably at the memory. The last time Vergil had been in his room, he was looking for a tennis set. He had found one of the rackets but not the other, and he huffed around his room in frustration, debating if it would be worth checking Dante’s. Dante could never clean up after himself, and searching his room would be doomed from the start.

Deciding to check the backyard, Vergil had hopped down the steps, wondering where his brother had gone off to. Once he found the other racket his plan was to make Dante play a few games, knowing he could beat him easily. They were evenly matched at most things, but Dante was always better at sports than Vergil: except tennis, which is why it was his favorite game.

You shift next to him, and Vergil realizes he is holding you a bit too tightly. He eases his grip, pushing away the next set of memories of what happened as he hunted through the sandbox for the missing racket. His fingers are trembling, but he forces them to relax, finally rubbing soft circles on your lower back as you open your eyes.

“Hey,” you whisper.

“Hey,” he says back.

You yawn and press closer. “I half expected you to be gone,” you say sleepily.

Vergil chuckles. “I thought about it. But I didn’t want to leave you.”

“Good.”

He sighs, going back to staring out the window as you doze off. An hour slips by with him lost in his thoughts before you stir again, stretching your limbs before turning to smile up at him. “Hey again,” Vergil says.

“Do you want to hang out today?” you ask.

His brows dart up in surprise. “Sure, I think? You mean here?”

You shrug. “As long as we’re quiet. No one comes up here. You can stay here if they call me for something.”

Vergil nods, but doesn’t let himself get excited. Another night or two under a roof is too much to think about. Instead he rolls a bit to cover you with his body, his hand firm on your hip.

You sigh and press your face into his neck, and Vergil swallows thickly. Holding you like this, the only person who has ever been so kind to him… it’s a bit overwhelming, and he needs to take a few minutes to ground himself. Being alone has always been the plan: it’s safer, less messy, less likely to attract the demons who inevitably find him. Whenever there has been a bystander who gets in the way it just brings trouble, so Vergil makes it a point to stay away from humans as much as possible, venturing near them only when he needs something.

But you… his thumb runs circles on your hip before his palm slides up to your waist. You are small and fragile and wouldn’t stand a chance against the things that hunt him, but staying away from you seems impossible now.

“Are you feeling okay?” you ask quietly. “Seems like you’re thinking about something.”

Vergil shakes his head. As he bends down to press his lips to yours, there is a drop of emotion that feels unwelcome: fear. He had long ago stopped being afraid, years on his own teaching him that only strength and discipline matter, that hesitation and fear only brought weakness. And weakness means death.

“Vergil,” you sigh, and he kisses you again, firmer this time as he presses one leg between your thighs. Arms wrap around him as fingers slide into his hair, the sensation thrilling and soothing at the same time. His heart is racing as his hand reaches out to grab the bedsheet with a fierce grip.

Beneath the surface of his skin and muscle something pulses in his blood, something he has felt for years but cannot name, something wrapped up in his DNA. All he knows is the drive to unlock it, whatever it is, but it has never been so clear or so fierce. Vergil has the sensation that whatever part of himself is still hidden is just out of reach, but being with you here brings it closer than ever, and he wonders if you could be the key. Anxiety mixes with desire and it is confusing and terrifying but he wants more of it, more of you.

The bedroom door slams open and you both break apart, jolting with the sound. Your hands press to his chest, pushing him off, and you slowly rise to take in the half-dressed and half-drunk man that stumbles in the door. “What the fuck is this?” he growls, pointing at Vergil. “Who the fuck are you?”

“It’s okay,” you say hurriedly, trying to push around Vergil. “He’s a friend of mine, and needed a place—”

“Fucking slut! You brought a boy home to fuck in my house?” he shouts. He takes another step forward, swaying slightly as his words slur. “Your mother’s too soft on you, I been saying it. After I kick his ass I’m gonna teach you a lesson, whore.”

Vergil can feel you go tense behind him, a little noise escaping. But he feels settled, faced with a threat he can understand, and he shakes off your grip to step into the middle of the room. “Disgusting pig,” Vergil spits, scoffing when the man gapes at him. “Turn around and leave if you know what’s good for you.”

The man lets go a string of curses that are barely coherent before he crashes forward, swinging. Vergil easily sidesteps him, his reflexes quick as he grabs him by the back of the neck and launches him towards the floor. He bounces against the wood, shouting as his chin cracks open, and when he rolls Vergil kicks him in the stomach.

“Vergil! Stop it!”

Your voice is the only thing that stops him. It pulls Vergil back from where he kneels over the man, fist raised to connect with his face. Vergil takes a few deep breaths, feeling the pulse of his power subside to a manageable level, and beyond that, the taste of what he cannot unlock, taunting him to hit the drunk and see what happens.

The stepfather looks up with wide eyes, as if shocked that he is on the floor, and Vergil makes a face. He reeks of beer and his face and neck are smeared with blood, two things Vergil hates. He stares back, jaw tightened as he grits his teeth; but as he lowers his fist he sees a bit of red tingeing the corners of the man’s eyes.

It is not the red of a night of drinking or of stumbling bleary-eyed from sleep: it is the red flash of a demon.

He stands and hauls the stepfather up, ignoring your protests. “Stay here,” he barks, dragging the man out and down the attic steps.

Once they hit the hallway, Vergil uses his real strength to slam him against the wall, nearly hearing his teeth rattle. He lifts the man easily and leans forward to threaten him. “I know what you are,” Vergil growls.

“What—”

“I can see you,” he seethes, talking to the demon. “This human left himself wide open with his vileness, didn’t he? So you listen.” The stepfather holds his breath as Vergil’s grip tightens. “Make sure he leaves her alone. Don’t speak to her, don’t look at her. Or I’ll come back and take care of you as well, understand?”

The man nods, so Vergil lowers him slowly. He lifts a hand to wipe blood from his mouth, and after shooting him a glare he pushes past and into the bathroom, slamming the door. Tension radiates through Vergil’s body but he purposely keeps it in check, taking his own moment before climbing the stairs back to the attic.

He finds you sitting on the bed, clutching the blanket tightly. “What happened?” you whisper.

“Nothing. He won’t bother you.” Vergil grabs his bag before moving to where his boots lay, leaning over to pull the laces. “I should go. I’ll see you—”

“Wait!” You run over and launch yourself, catching Vergil around the waist. He looks down in surprise as you hug him tightly, damp face pressed to his chest. “I’m sorry,” you murmur.

Vergil tilts your face up with a frown. He looks at your eyes, eyes that are free from any trace of demon, before stroking your cheek. “You don’t have to go,” you say, and Vergil nods, knowing that leaving is impossible now.

#dmc #devil may cry #dmc vergil #vergil sparda #vergil x reader #fan fiction #open for me

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princecharmingwinks · 5 years

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Sterek Fic Rec - February 2020

Here we go again, second month! Hope you enjoy some of the material I have been reading this month.

The coolest wolf in the whole wide world by dearericbittle (dutchmoxie) (1/1 | 8,254 | Teen)

Stiles is surprisingly good at being a wolf. Like, super good at control, loves the drama of making weird entrances, and determined to try all the things. Because he has to find out what’s different about being a wolf. And Derek is going to be his Yoda, whether he wants to or not. Only Stiles is pretty sure Yoda never smelled this good.

Dog With a Bone by clottedcreamfudge (1/1 | 14,084 | Mature)

“You,” Derek says, slowly and deliberately, “are beautiful and frustrating, and this isn’t a private enough place for me to tell you all things I’d like to do with your mouth, but I’d really like to show you some time.” Stiles swallows, and Derek’s eyes flicker down to watch the movement of his throat.

“That was pretty convincing,” Stiles manages to say after a moment, though it comes out a little more breathless than he’d intended. A small, slightly predatory smile starts to spread across Derek’s face and Stiles is definitely getting a hard-on in a parking lot, oh god. “How soon can we do that dinner exactly?”

“I can do tonight?”

“Any sooner than that?” Derek huffs out a laugh.

“I’ll pick you up at 7.”

Derek is the dog-trainer that Stiles desperately needs. It turns out he might be something else Stiles desperately needs as well.

Can I Order Your Number? by zeski (1/1 | 1,427 | Teen)

Stiles has the perfect sign to attract customers into his family's café. It's a great idea like all his other ideas. Really.

Sharing Food by aussiebee (2/2 | 9,564 | Explicit)

"Sharing food with another human being is an intimate act that should not be indulged in lightly." ― M.F.K. Fisher

Derek is pretty much absorbed into the Stilinski family, one meal at a time.

The Language of Flowers by CelestialVoid (1/1 | 894 | General)

Derek has to buy flowers for Jennifer and Peter’s engagement party. Stiles picks out the perfect bouquet for him.

Happy Birthday, You’re Legal Now! by Anxiety_Baker02 (1/1 | 5,979 | General)

“Derek?”

“That girl. Maria. You know you can…I mean, you…the girls seemed to think...” Derek broke off with a huff, looking annoyed with himself. He glared up at the ceiling before he lolled his head back down. “Do you like her?”

Stiles blinked in surprise. “No!” He exclaimed, louder than he meant to.

...

“You know,” Stiles said. “My birthday’s next week. I’m going to be eighteen.”

Derek chuckled slightly, and Stiles couldn’t help the shiver that left him at the sound.

“Believe me, Stiles,” Derek said in a low voice. “I’m well aware.”

What it looks like to forget (it's easier that way) by dearericbittle (dutchmoxie) (1/1 | 4,925 | Teen)

He has no idea who he is, but the stranger with the whiskey eyes is calling him Derek. And the guy has been sitting at his bedside for three days, so he’s got some credit. Especially because the guy smells like he should be his - though that is a supremely weird thought that he probably needs to figure out first.

How to wrap presents by KFlynn (1/1 | 4,123 | General)

Stiles really didn't expect anything when the window opened. After all he was rather used to it by now, ever since Scott had been bitten by Peter (and even a bit before that, though Scott usually took the door), and a certain Sourwolf had turned to showing up once in a while, always climbing through that window.

He wouldn’t really admit that he actually liked these visits and that this was part of the reason why he kept his window open. Though.

But when Derek climbed in this evening - holding a basket of what looked surprisingly like... presents, he still did a double take.

What was the werewolf up to now?

"What.... the....?", he began, rising an eyebrow, before he turned his chair and looked at him. "...okay...? What's this?"

"It's almost Christmas." Derek's voice sounded dry as every day, completely deadpan. He pointed at the basket. "I suck at wrapping presents."

Let the Light In by Green (1/1 | 20,122 | Explicit)

Derek Hale barely believes he deserves a pack of his own, let alone a council-trained emissary, a nemeton, or a mate.

(He's about to get all of that.)

You're Leaving by acercrea (1/1 | 1,113 | Teen)

They have just gotten back from Mexico. Stiles is very upset about Derek dying, and no, it doesn't matter that he came back. He died. Derek is leaving to go after Kate. But what if it isn't a suicide mission, what if Derek has a really good reason for going?

princecharmingwinks special mention (this fic is a bit darker than my usual tastes BUT its soooo sweet too. Note: there is no non-con involved with sterek):

Those Hidden Places by Mimiminaj (1/1 | 18,799 | Explicit)

He doesn’t belong here.

It’s the first thought that crosses Derek’s mind as he watches the new inmates spill into the cafeteria. The kid stays close to the wall, eyes scanning all the exits and skimming over the tables. If he’s trying to get a barring for his surroundings he’s doing a shit job of it, something made completely evident as Lewis shoulders him from behind and the kid almost jumps to flatten himself against the wall.

Stiles is the new inmate at Derek's prison. He really didn't expect to fall in love with the mouthy little brat.

Please spread the word if you love these works. All the love to the amazing authors on this list and all fic writers in general <3 PS. if you ever want me to read a fic and add it to my list, feel free to send it my way and if it sparkles for me, I’ll pop it on!

#sterek #fanfiction #fic rec #teen wolf #stiles stilinski #derek hale #princecharminglists

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knjnvrland · 5 years

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Prank Wars - ch. 8

> pairing | jungkook x reader

> word count | 6.7k

> genre | college!au, fluff, smut, angst

> warnings | swearing, alcohol consumption.

> synopsis | College can be a stressful time in anyone’s life as it is, why don’t we throw a little prank war in the mix to make it harder?

> fic masterlist

> A/N | English is not my first language, I’m sorry for the eventual spelling mistake, please let me know if you find any!

CHAPTER 8 - New Year's

The end of year holidays went by fast. Alice and Yoongi went to her parent’s house for christmas, and the rest of the boys each went back to their homes, including you and your brothers. It was nice to spend a few days with your mother and having everyone home a few times a year was always motive for celebration.

It was a lot of food, some gatherings with family members you only encountered that time of year and a few good gifts amongst the terrible ones Jin and Taehyung gave you -Jin’s being kitchen supplies and Tae’s children's underwear, nudging to your most recent embarrassing moment provided by JK. Namjoon was the only brother who got it right, gifting you a couple books you were eager to read and new running shoes. Amongst all the celebrations, you barely stayed in touch with the rest of your friends, so you didn’t know that no one was excited about New Years when it was approaching.

Christmas with mom, New Year’s with dad. That’s how it always had been, ever since the separation. This year, however, your dad didn’t have plans to come home from America, instead planning a trip to Europe with his new family. The four of you, of course, were not invited. This didn’t came as a surprise, honestly, every year he would menage to royally screw up whatever it was that you planned. The crowning jewel was the year he flew everyone to Florida to spend the day at Disney but instead you commemorated the beginning of the new year stuck in traffic on the way there. He tried his best, you guessed, but it was never quite enough.

This year he sent you your money-gifts, as always, and no explanation whatsoever about the change of plans. A couple of days before the 31st you and Joon heard your mother on the phone with him. She had planned a trip with a few of her other divorced friends to a spa near by, and would cancel it to spend the day with the four of you. You knew she would do so gladly, but it wasn’t fair, so you came up with something. You would tell her you made plans to take a trip to a ski lodge with your friends, and the four of you would just go back to university a few days sooner then you planned and spend the passage of the year together. She didn’t need to know and it didn’t really matter to you anyway, that date being wasted anyway.

So, on the 29th, the four of you, alongside Jimin who just wanted to scape earlier from his family’s infinite traditions, were driving back to campus on Jin’s old truck. Your mother had made enough food to last you until February and tried not to look excited that she didn’t have to cancel her plans, but you knew better.

She raised all of you, she deserved many years of quiet and relaxation for every few days spent all together.

You went straight to the boy's place, as three of you lived there already and the rest not bothering going home at all, just crashing there for the next couple of days. What you didn’t expect, however, was to meet Hoseok as soon as you entered the apartment.

“The fuck are you doing here?” Hobi was laying the couch shirtless browsing his phone with the heater all the way up and loud music blaring from the tv speakers.

“I can ask you the same?” Namjoon dropped his bag by the door and went to greet his friend.

“My sister had a job thing and didn’t go home, so I just came up with an excuse as well” he explained while doing a handshake with both Taehyung and Jimin, who took their places by the older boy.

“Families, right?” Jimin hummed, grabbing the control to turn down the volume “at least we won’t spend new year’s alone”

“Speak for yourself” you reappeared from the kitchen, where you were busy helping Jin put the food away “I just want some peace and quiet, change of plans: I’m going back to the dorms” you were just about to grab your bag when Tae stood up and ran towards you, hugging your back and lifting you up to turn you to face the other way.

“No no no, sis, you have to stay here” he wouldn’t let go of you and you hated to admit that Jin dragging his ass to the gym must have started to have some effect “it’s been too long since we had some quality family time”

“I just spent an entire week with you!” You protested, still trying to set yourself free “and I literally see you guys everyday!”

“Please, y/n-ah” Jimin pleaded from his place on the sofa. You rolled your eyes and stopped struggling.

“Fine.” You huffed “but if I’m left to do the dishes alone I’m a hundred per cent not talking to any of you until classes start” Tae letted you go and you dropped back your bag, walking to sit in the middle of Hoseok and Jimin on the couch.

“Nice, now that we’re settled, what should we do?” Namjoon was way too excited for this.

The next day you woke up with loud talking in the living room, and amongst the voices you were hearing, there were a few you were not expecting.

You took a look around Namjoon’s room and saw that he was nowhere near, probably letting you sleep late since you were the last one to fall asleep last night, staying up with Taehyung like when you were teens. You were about to fall asleep on the couch when Namjoon woke up to go to the bathroom and told you to lay on his bed, and you fell asleep playing with his fingers like you always did when you were a kid in need of your older brother's protection against a monster under the bed. And now you could smell Jin’s pancakes, the one’s with cinnamon and butter he did on special no-school days and had you already in a great mood. This was already the best end of the year you had had in a long time.

You could tell, as soon as you left the warmth of the bed, that the day was specially cold, and when you opened the curtains you were surprised with the sight of snow falling down. You ran out of the room to let your current house mates know and was greeted by everyone, including Yoongi, Alice and Jungkook, all gathered in the living room looking outside at the snow filled balcony.

“Maybe if I’m fast it won’t make that big of a mess” Namjoon thought out loud.

“You always make a mess” Yoongi stated, hugging Alice closer to him.

“but I have to get them!” Your brother pointed at his plants, all slowly being covered by the frosty weather.

“Hey, sleeping beauty” Jimin was the first no notice you “I’m glad to see you awake” he came your way and you instinctively opened your arms to be embraced by him.

“What's going on?” You let go of him to go and hug Alice and Yoongi, staying in the middle of the two and just nodding Jungkook’s way, acknowledging his presence.

“We’re stuck here.” Tae was the one who answered you. He was sitting on the floor, distracted drawing faces in the fogged up window.

“What?” You turned to Namjoon and Jin, hoping for a better explanation, but it was Yoongi who answered.

“We got snowed in, the news are warning people to get out of the roads and stay in” you looked at him and he shook his shoulders as if saying ‘what can we do?’

“But what are you doing here” you pointed between the couple and a second later pointed towards Jungkook as well.

“We were just passing by to go to Yoongi’s for the rest of the break” Alice explained “the warnings began when we were close to town, so we just decided to stop here. The boy’s place was closer so we called Hobi to ask him if we could crash here a couple hours” Alice winked at your friend who agreed with his head “and as soon as we got here it got worse and now we’re stuck.” She finished, but then pointed at Jungkook “i don’t know what he’s doing here.”

“He came by earlier” Jin pointed out, coming back with a couple of cups of warm coffee, handing one to you, which you took gladly “he never left town” Jungkook gave a nod, confirming the eldest story, but didn’t add anything, instead nudging Taehyung in front of him to get up and go with him to the kitchen.

You caught Jin and Yoongi sharing a look as soon as the youngest boys left, but it didn’t last long “it’s going to be crowded, but we can menage” your brother stated, and motioned everyone to go to the kitchen as well “breakfast is ready, who’s hungry?”

The second to last day of the year was spent with a lot of chatter and bickering. Your brother’s apartment was big enough for your weekly get togethers, but once all of you had to share the space for more then a couple of hours it got chaotic. Jin would be yelling at someone every couple of minutes about something, and him, Alice and Yoongi ended up stuck at the kitchen for almost the entire day, heating up food or cooking some more for the rest. You and Hoseok would help by every now and then but, admittedly, not in a significant way. The maknaes tried to help out filling up a couple of air mattresses Taehyung had -why he had them no one knew, but after that they did pretty much nothing. Namjoon managed to grab his smallest plants from the balcony and, of course, made a mess as expected, so a good hour of your afternoon was spent cleaning up after him. But after everything, all of you gathered on the floor around the coffee table to eat dinner as the makeshift family you were.

“Can you pass me the ketchup?” Hoseok pointed at the bottle next to you and you grabbed it to give it to him, but Jimin was faster and took it from you “hey!” The older boy complained, but to no avail, as the sauce was then passed to everyone on the table first before getting to him “you’re idiots” he said, when it finally got to him.

“We should play a game later” Alice suggested.

“No thanks” was the answer her boyfriend gave her, finishing up his food and standing up to ego to the kitchen.

“C’mon! It will be fun! I found some board games at Namjoon’s room when I went to shower!” Your brother glared at her but she pretended she didn’t see it.

“I'm down” Taehyung was the first to agree “I’m bored as fuck and there’s no one online to game with” Alice high fived him and eyed the rest of you expectantly.

Jungkook stood up to also take his dishes to the kitchen and halfway there turned around “I’ll pass” he was in a weird mood all day and, although he participated and wasn’t that closed off, you could tell his chipper disposition was missing.

“I guess I’ll play as well then” Jimin stole the final sip from your cup and stood up, grabbing your plate as well as his.

“Thank you” you smiled at him and turned to your friends “I guess it can be fun..” Hoseok rolled his eyes but nodded as well, and Jin gave you a thumbs up.

You settled on a game of monopoly -that you lost by a big margin on the two rounds you played. Alice winning the first one and Jin the second. You were smart with money in real life but apparently as soon as you got rich on the game you got cocky and lost it all. Taehyung and Jimin weren’t so chill about losing, specially when you settled that last places would do the dishes. Namjoon and Hoseok, staying in the middle, managed to scape, and settled in front of the tv to play a few rounds of Mario Bros once everyone got annoyed with the board game.

While you were playing Yoongi stayed at the sofa on his computer with his headphones turned so loud you could distinguish the music coming from it as the one’s he was working on, and Jungkook hid away in Namjoon’s room. At first he just went there to shower, but he never got back and everyone must have sensed that there was something off, since no one went after him and just letted him be.

It was almost 1am when you were done with the cleaning up, Jimin bailing half an hour ago and leaving you and your sibling to finish up. Taehyung went straight to his room to shower and get some sleep -at least that’s what he said, but he was always a night owl and you were sure he would be back to play his videogame a little in no time. Alice and Yoongi took one of the air mattresses to Jimin’s room and you guessed the three of them must already be out as there were no noises coming from his door. Jin was still on the couch, but you could see he was dozing off, so you nudged him to go to bed. He had slept with Tae on his bed the night before, but the younger had the habit of curling himself around whoever he was sleeping with and Jin hated it, so he took the other air mattress this time. Hoseok and Namjoon were also nowhere in sight, so you assumed you were the last one standing and made your way to Joon’s room. As soon as you opened the door you could hear his shower running, that wouldn’t be a problem, you could sleep through almost anything, but this time your place on the bed was already taken by a sleeping Jungkook.

You’ve forgotten for a second he had been hiding there the whole night and seeing him fast asleep you didn’t have the guts to wake him, so you turned around and decided to take the couch. You stayed awake for a little longer, reading a book you borrowed from Namjoon, waiting to see if Tae would be back, but he never was, so you turned out all the lights and made yourself comfortable in the sofa. You dozed off watching the snow fall outside, too lazy to stand up and close the curtains.

It must’ve been the middle of the night when you were woken up by an unwanted presence scooting beside you on the couch.

“Hey what are you doing?” You whispered to the body next to you

“Namjoon hyung is too warm” Jungkook murmured, barely awake, you noticed “and he snores” you chuckled and gave him a little more space.

The both of you stayed silent for a while, uncomfortably trying to keep your distance from each other even in the small space. Jungkook wiggled around and it was starting to annoy you. You turned to your side and pulled his arm over the small of your waist, making him turn as well and spoon you. He froze in place.

“Kookie, it’s okay, I just want to sleep” you could feel his breath on the back of your head getting back to normal. He stopped wiggling and got a little bit closer, touching his chest on your back.

“I like this” he whispered, before falling asleep. You liked it too, but you weren’t sure if you liked it because before he got here you were feeling a little bit cold and his body next to yours gave you the extra warmth you didn’t know you were missing, or if you liked it because the person next to you was who it was. You tried not to think about it and just fell asleep again.

The next morning you woke up in the same position you fell asleep, facing the sofa with Jungkook all wrapped up around you. It was pretty early and everyone else was still sleeping. You started to move a bit, to see if he would wake up as well, but it didn’t really work.

“Hey” you turned your head as far as you could, and saw his face just a few centimeters away from yours. His bangs were getting long and almost covered his eyes entirely. You moved your body a bit again, and he frowned in his sleep before hugging you closer to him and hiding his forehead on your shoulders. “Wake up, I have to pee” you whined and he chuckled, not giving any other signs he would move. “Dude, please” you tried to untangle yourself from him, but he just held you closer. You got tired of his antics and just stopped moving for a bit, as soon as you felt him relax you pushed yourself as hard as you could and, consequently, him. He fell to the ground with a sound thud but, weirdly, started laughing.

“You’re stronger then you look” he supported himself on his elbows and smiled up at you. You tried to ignore the weird thing your heart did and just stood up, walking towards the bathroom on the hallway.

“Take that as a warning not to mess with me” you said, not looking back. Jungkook laid back on the floor and closed his eyes, opening them again only when he heard you flush.

“I could really use a coffee right now” he said, walking towards the kitchen.

“Same” you went after him and the two of you started preparing breakfast.

It was supposed to be only coffee and toast, but then you were craving the pancakes he made you when you stayed over at his place, and you searched the kitchen for the ingredients. While doing so you found a few pieces of bacon on the back of the fridge and Jungkook gave you the idea of adding bacon and eggs to your toasts. Before you could notice you were making a full breakfast and the smell was invading every inch of the apartment.

“That’s something I like to wake up to” Hoseok anchored in the counter to steal a strip of bacon “please move in”

You chuckled and made him a plate, soon enough the rest of your friends were all in the kitchen as well, in various stages of awakeness. Namjoon and Jimin were put together, having already showered and changed. Yoongi and Taehyung were half asleep, eating mindless not really paying attention to anything else. Jin was way too awake, cracking jokes about how Jungkook and you learned everything you knew from him and should come help at the cafe. Alice was on the phone with her mother, explaining why you never made it to Yoongi’s.

Once breakfast was over, everyone scattered to do their own things. You went to Namjoon’s room to take a shower, as the other bathrooms were already taken, and once you came out only Jimin and Jin were at the living room, playing a game you didn’t know.

“Where’s everybody?” Both of them shrugged, not looking at you. You were going to ask again, but came to the conclusion it didn’t matter. You were all still stuck in and, by the sight of the snow falling outside, would be for a little while longer. So you took a place besides Jimin and extended your legs to his lap, grabbing your phone and scrolling mindless.

A few hours went by and every now and again someone would show up, hang for a little and then disappear again into one of the rooms. Everyone ate a lot and had breakfast late, so no one mentioned lunch, but once the sun started to set Taehyung came to find Jin and complain he was hungry again.

“Let’s just heat up mom’s food, it should be enough to feed everyone” Jin didn’t mind shifting his attention from the tv. From the looks of it, a couple more hours and they would beat the game. “y/n, can you do it?” You rolled your eyes but stood up, walking towards the kitchen with Tae right behind you.

“You’re giving me free breakfast for a week” you teased Jin, but he didn’t even budge.

“You wish”.

You found a couple of your mother’s foods and kept your brother as far of everything as possible. Even if Taehyung wasn’t as clumsy as Namjoon, he was still a mess at the kitchen and you wanted to spare yourself the extra work, so it was easier to keep him at bay. At some point Yoongi resurfaced from Jimin’s room and joined you at the kitchen, helping out where he could. Dinner was just finished when all the lights went down and you heard a couple of scrams, distinguishing Jin’s and Jimin’s swears.

Yoongi turned on his flashlight and Taehyung did the same, you left your phone charging so you didn’t have it with you.

“What happened?” Yoongi went to the counter to look at the living room, where you could make a few shadow moving. Alice came from the hallway with her flashlight turned on as well and illuminated the two boys in the couch, completely defeated.

“We were at the final boss” Jimin whined, covering his face with his hands.

“There was no save” Jin added, his body melting into the cushions.

“You’re so dramatic” even if you couldn’t see, you were sure Alice was rolling her eyes at them.

Namjoon and Jungkook emerged from their hiding spots as well.

“Is everyone okay?” Namjoon asked, turning his light around the room to find everybody. You all nodded. “Ok, the power must’ve gone off, it will probably come back soon.”

Jungkook walked to the window to check outside and the buildings and houses in the neighborhood also had their lights out. “I don’t know hyung, it’s pretty dark out there”.

Beside you, Taehyung was browsing the internet to see if he found anything about it, but to no avail. “We just have to wait it out, I’m gonna check on Hobi” he walked out of the kitchen and you looked back at Yoongi, who had put his phone down with the light turned to the ceiling and was opening the oven to check on the food.

“It’s not boiling hot but it’s cooked, at least we can eat” he took it out and the smell attracted the ones on the living room to come close.

Taehyung came back with Hoseok and everyone set their phones with the lights up so you could at least see what you were eating.

More than an hour went by and everyone had finished their dinners, but the light was still out. Taehyung’s phone had run out of battery already and the rest of you were taking turns keeping the flashlights on so it would last for as long as possible. Hoseok and Namjoon both had candles in their rooms but keeping them on did not turn out good when the scents started mixing, so you just kept one in the middle of the coffee table so no one would trip.

“I’m bored” Jin whined, lying on the floor by the tv. Everyone agreed, all the conversation topics had come to an end and for the past twenty minutes it was a weird, although comfortable, silence.

Suddenly, Jimin stood up, grabbing Taehyung by the hem of his sweater to follow him. Both boys disappeared into a room and came back minutes later carrying six bottles of whine. “Let’s have a drinking game” Jimin exclaimed, excited.

“How the fuck do you keep so much alcohol in your room?” Hoseok asked, amazed “not that I’m complaining, I’m in”

Everyone else agreed and Namjoon went to pick a deck of cards so you could play around with.

The first couple of games made you empty half the bottles already “Chim, I don’t think those would be enough” you were a little bit tipsy already, but could tell half your friends were still pretty sober, and it would take a lot to get them drunk. Jimin rolled his eyes and stood up, his cheeks were a little flushed, but he didn’t lose his balance at all, so you guessed he was part of the sober ones.

“You’re all paying me back later” he sent to his room and came back with a bottle of tequila. Everyone cheered and someone, you’re not sure who, suggested that you played Truth or Dare.

After making Hoseok drink a spoon full of mustard, Jin to go outside into the snowy balcony shirtless and dance, discovering that Tae had sex with girls back at your place in Joon’s bed and then making him chug half a bottle of wine, and Yoongi giving Jimin a pack on the lips, as well as a few other misadventures you couldn’t remember, you were certain everyone was far gone now. That’s when, for the first time, the bottle landed on you.

“Y/n, truth or dare?” It was Taehyung’s time to ask and you knew he was eager to have his revenge, as the ‘chugging half the bottle’ was your suggestion. You wouldn’t give him the pleasure of saying dare.

“Truth” you smiled triumphantly, but his smile grew as well, and you knew you’ve fucked up.

“Who was your first kiss?” Oh the betrayal. He was the only one of your siblings who knew the answer and that has been a well kept secret since it happened when you were sixteen, even with your elder brother constantly bothering you about it.

Your eyes went big and your siblings started laughing hysterically. You had just decided to drink instead of answering, bringing your cup to your lips and turning your head back, when you heard Jimin, sitting across from you “It was me” you choked and Taehyung laughed harder, everyone else following along.

“Yah! What the fuck?” Jin screamed at him, but you could hear the humor in his voice in between your coughs. Alice who was beside you tapped your back while Hobi filled back your cup.

“I have to hear this story” Hobi turned to fill Jimin’s cup as well, and you finally looked at his face, not sure if the blushing was from the alcohol or the secret finally being spilled. He was looking back at you, searching for confirmation, and you nodded your head slightly, knowing it was easier to get it over with while everyone was drunk, maybe they wouldn’t remember it the next day.

“It was at Tae’s 16th birthday” he began “we were playing never have I ever when a couple of our friends began making fun of y/n because she never drank”

You remembered that night. You were fourteen and your parents had just finished their divorce, even if your dad had moved out more then a year previous. Jin was already at uni and Namjoon was on a trip with a girlfriend he had at the time. Your mother let Taehyung have his party at home as long as he took care of you there and cleaned it all the next day, and went to stay at your grandma’s for the night. The first thing your brother did when you were alone was raid your mother’s liquor cabinet, and that was the first time you would drink. At first you just took sips of your brother’s cup, but then someone gave you one all to yourself. You didn’t drink enough to get drunk, not really enjoying the taste, but all of his friends were just fine enjoying as much as they could the free alcohol. When it was time to play, you were pretty much the only one sober, and also the youngest there. A few people noticed you weren’t drinking, not having done much of what they were suggesting and started to feel bad. Then they started making questions directed at you, lowering the riskiness until the question “never have I ever kissed someone” came up. And you didn’t drink. That’s when the making fun really got to you. They all laughed and so did Taehyung. You didn’t get along at all by then, and he was going through a rebellious phase, so he was of no help. So when you started to tear up and ran away to your room crying, it was Jimin who came to find you.

“Y/n? Can I come in?” He knocked on the door before opening and showing his head, searching for you and finding you hiding under your covers on the bed. You didn’t answer, so he walked in, closing the door after. “They’re assholes, don’t mind what they said” he took a sit by the edge and you pulled your head out of the protection blanket you created. He was specially pretty that night. Your brother and him had dyed their hairs for the first time the month before, Tae’s was a faded orange now and Jimin’s was a faded blue, with the roots starting to show. He was wearing black from head to toe and the earrings you gave him on his birthday.

“I’m so ashamed” you pouted at him, with tears prickling the back of your eyes.

“There’s nothing to be ashamed of” he passed his hand through your hair “It’s just a kiss, half of the people their were lying about what they did anyway, don’t pay them attention” he smiled at you and you smiled back on instinct. Truth be told you had a small crush on him. He had always been kind to you, specially when your brother wasn’t, and he always made sure to include you and be by your side when you were left out.

“I’m gonna die alone” you covered back your head, realizing he was way out of your league and you’d probably never find someone you liked as much as you liked him as so you would never be kiss and never have sex and never get married and- you heard him chuckle.

“No you’re not” he pulled back the covers “you’re just being dramatic” he was looking at your soul and you felt like he had read your mind and knew all your deepest secrets. You sniffed and a tear slipped, he dried it before it could even reach your cheek, but instead of breaking the touch, he just kept his hand on your face and started to lean in closer. It wasn’t a deep passionate kiss, just a small one. Once you felt his lips on yours you immediately kissed him back. The butterflies were there, but barely. You liked him, sure, but you expected… more? He was the one who broke the contact. “There, now you’ve been kissed” his smile never wavered, always bright and kind.

“Thank you” you whispered and smiled shyly “you should go back out there” he stood up and extended his hand to you.

“Only if you come with me” you accepted it and went back to the party.

No one had noticed you were back, having moved on from the game. The music was loud and there were a bunch of drunk teens in your living room. Jimin invited you to dance and so you did all the way through morning.

“That’s so cute???” Alice gushed beside you, raising her glass “a toast to Jimin, who’s better then us all!” But no one followed her, so she just chugged back her drink “Love is dead and you’re all hopeless” she whined.

Namjoon slapped Taehyung on the back of his neck “you’re an asshole”

“I was an asshole” he corrected, fixing his hair.

“I ship it” it was Hoseok’s turn to embarrass you, apparently. “what should we call you? MiniMini? You’re both pretty small after all…”

“No one’s shipping anything” Jin turned back his drink as well “and please no more kissing my sister”

From the corner of your eyes you noticed Jungkook gulp, but apparently you were the only one. “Who’s next?” He said, probably trying to change subjects as fast as possible, so Yoongi turned the bottle and the game continued through the night.

The lights never came back and when Namjoon’s phone died, leaving only yours still working, everyone decided to call it a night. You were all pretty drunk anyway, Alice and Tae had fallen asleep hours ago, and the rest of the boys helped them get to bed. Once everyone had retreated to their rooms, you were left to clean a bit, knowing you’d have to sleep on the sofa again. When you were back from cleaning the cups in the dark, you got back to the living room to see that Jungkook had turned the couch towards the window and had opened the curtains, and was just sitting there, barely lit up by the moon outside.

The town was really pretty, all snowed in with the moon finally back as the skies had cleared up. You took a sit beside him and the both of you stood there quietly.

“I guess we’ll be free by tomorrow” he was the one who broke the silence.

“Yeah, I think so” and you were quiet again. You could tell he wanted to say something. A few minutes went by before he spoke again.

“Do you like Jimin?” You couldn’t help but laugh. “What? It’s a fair question!” He defended himself of your reaction.

“No Kookie, I don’t like Jimin” you turned to him and saw his ears turning red. “Why do you ask?”

“I don’t know” he turned away from you “you’re always kind to him… And you hug a lot.” He was embarrassed and you could tell. You had never seen Jungkook like that.

“It’s because he’s always kind to me too” you turned to the window as well.

“Yeah, he’s like that” Jungkook chuckled to himself, realizing how silly he was being. It was quiet again.

Suddenly, at the distance, fireworks started to go off. It went on for a while and you just watched, not saying anything.

“It’s probably new year’s” you finally spoke, still watching the party probably happening on the other side of town “I almost forgot it was today”

“It’s honestly the best new year I had in a while” Jungkook said quietly.

“Same here” you whispered “why didn’t you go home for Christmas?” You finally asked what’s been bothering you since the day before. Jin had told you that Jungkook didn’t have a nice relationship with his family, but when you started to ask more questions he refused to answer you. You found it odd, your brother always being the one you turned to for gossip, so you assumed it was something serious.

Jungkook took a deep breath before answering “I was not up for the drama this year” you turned to him, finally, but he didn’t turn too. Jungkook knew you wanted more, but he was no willing to ruin a pretty fun night with that story “I’ll tell you some other time”. He finally turned your way.

“But are you okay?” You wondered and pondered for a second before nodding his head slightly. You turned back to watch a new set of fireworks that had just begun.

The light on your phone turned off and you picked it up to see it was finally dead. “It’s gone” you sighted. I hope the power comes back by morning” you turned to Jungkook and found him already staring at you.

He scooted closer and you kept staring back at him. He then closed the distance and gave you a peck on the lips. It was really soft and lasted only a second.

“What was that for?” You whispered, not really bothered by the action, but amused.

“New year’s kiss” he smiled with fake innocence all over his face. It was late, you were still a bit drunk, the view from the city was pretty and there were fireworks happening as far as you could see, so you decided to let it slide, just for today.

“Okay” and you kissed him this time. He deepened the kiss before braking it again.

“I like when you call me Kookie�� you looked at him puzzled “You called me Kookie last night and again today, I liked it” you smiled at him and pecked his lips again.

“Okay, Kookie.”

And the two of you stayed there, alternating between stealing kisses and watching the night until the sky started to get clear. You don’t remember falling asleep. Amidst the stolen kisses and the soft questions and the unspoken answers, at some point you fell out of consciousness, held by his arms and smelling his scent.

The next morning, you woke up alone.

The sound of begs being dragged and chatter at the kitchen woke you up. Before anything else, someone extended you a cup of coffee, and you thanked Joon for doing so.

“What’s going on?” Your voice was still hoarse from sleeping, and you didn’t feel so well. It was probably colder then you remembered last night, and you’d probably catch a cold.

“They cleared the roads, Alice and Yoongi hyung are leaving to spend the last days of break with his family” he explained, sitting beside you and sipping on his on coffee. You sniffed and you brother pulled on the blanket you don’t remember getting last night “Jin hyung went out early today to get food and check on the shop and found you here, you fell asleep without a blanket” he explained.

“Is he back?” He then pointed at the kitchen, where although you couldn’t hear, you could see Jin waving his arms around, probably complaining about something the younger guys did.

“Taehyung’s the only one out, he said he was feeling claustrophobic and went for a walk” he rolled his eyes. It was still snowing outside, granted it was minimum compared to the last couple of days, but still “I’ll be pissed if I have to take care of the both of you sicko’s” he played around, giving your shoulder a nudge with his own. “Oh, and no one knows where Jungkook is” he added and you turned to him.

“What do you mean?” You tried to keep you cool but you were really curious.

“He didn’t sleep here. He had slept in my bed before, but not last night” he took another sip of his coffee “didn’t sleep in anyone else’s room as well, didn’t you see him leave?”

You shook your head. He didn’t ask you if you knew where he slept, so you left that part out, and you really didn’t see him when he got out. “Did someone tried to call him?”

“Yeah, everyone did but he’s not picking up. Yoongi will drop by his place before going out and will check on him, we’ll try no to worry until then” he picked up your now empty mug and stood up.

You said your goodbyes to the couple before they went out and half an hour later Yoongi texted the group chat saying that JK was safely home, he was just asleep and never saw the calls because his phone was off. You knew Jungkook never turned off his phone before going to bed, so that was probably a lie, but you letted it slide, you would ask him later anyway.

You spent the next couple of days at the boy’s apartment, but eventually returned to the dorms. Jungkook never showed up again, and didn’t answer any of you calls or texts. It annoyed you to no end and also freaked you out a little bit. He probably regretted everything and the both of you crossed a line you shouldn’t have. There were still a few days before classes began again, but you stopped trying to contact him, deciding to catch up on some reading and help Jin out at the cafe when he reopened it, seeing as Rhina still wasn’t back and he could use a hand there.

You tried not to think about Jungkook, and for the most part you could, but he would still creep his way back into your mind a few times a day.

> A/N | Did you love the fluff? Because I loved writing it. At this point everyone has been so into all the tooth rotting stuff I'm almost afraid to bring in the angst, please don't kill me when I do haha I was going to wait until tomorrow to update but I think everyone can use a little distraction from the countdown to comeback (I know I can!), so I hope this helps a little. Next update will probably take a while longer because the chapters are getting longer and it's getting harder for me to write because of my university schedule, I hope you can understand. Have a nice day, wherever and whoever you are :)

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ceasarslegion · 4 years

Text

Hey! I have been absolutely overwhelmed by the positive response to my little John Hughes-inspired/parental issues/teen drama Back to the Future fanfic ;-; I really wasn’t expecting it to gain this much traction in such a short time, and I’m pretty sure I’ve lured in readers who aren’t even in this fandom AAAAA??!!

Since I get most if not all of my writing inspiration from music I listen to while out on my daily walks and daydreaming, I thought I’d make a playlist for songs that inspired the events/themes of and remind me of Hard to Breathe! There’s a couple sprinkled in that kind of foreshadow later events so be aware of that if you wanna avoid implied lyrical spoilers

The Orion Experience: There’s No Love in February

Well I spend my days still searchin' for ya/You took my heart to California/Stuck with the winter in New York City/There's no love in February/Everyday I get further away from the love that we had/Where did it all go bad?/No don't think I'll get out of bed today 'cause the sky is a permanent shade of grey/And it's not like I'm getting any younger, no those days are gone forever/And I never even got a chance to try/Where's the love that can make it all go away/Where were you when I needed to hear you say…

Hawthorne Heights: Hard to Breathe

I spent my summers catching fireflies/The part that flickered bright had just now died/My innocence stopped making sense/I've got no place left to hide/Where were you when I needed you the most?/When it got dark and I got cold/You were never there when I got home/The streetlights sing just like a curse/You only seem to make things worse/Now it's getting hard to breathe/The streetlights sing me fast asleep

Autoheart: Lent

It’s impossible to pin-point/You were like a fat joint/I cannot remember/You back in November/Never gonna allocate/All of this dark hate/Stuck in the middle/Middle of it/Give it up/Give it up/Give it up for lent/Take a break/Pack it in/Take it out to the bin/Isn’t it counterfeit?/Take a hit/A little bit/Wasn’t it not worth it/I don’t wanna, I don’t wanna I don’t wanna even know/Why you haven’t even sold our band of gold/Isn’t it counterfeit?/Take a hit A little bit/Wasn’t it not worth it

Young the Giant: Cough Syrup

If I could find a way to see this straight, I'd run away/To some fortune that I, I should have found by now/And so I run to the things they said could restore me/Restore life the way should be/I'm waiting for this cough syrup to come down/Life's too short to even care at all/I'm losing my mind/losing my mind/losing control

(this one’s music video is what actually inspired a lot of the ways I built on Marty’s home life. And it’s just... one of my favourite music videos ever. I wrote a whole article on cinematic MVs way back when I was still a film columnist just to talk about this one) The Shins: Simple Song

I know that things can really get rough when you go it alone/Don't go thinking you gotta be tough, to play like a stone/Could be there's nothing else in our lives so critical/As this little hole/Well this will be a simple song /To say what you've done/I told you about all those years /And away they did run/You sure must be strong/And you feel like an ocean/Being warmed by the sun

Wheatus: Teenage Dirtbag (real classics hours)

Man I feel like mould/It's prom night and I am lonely/Lo and behold/She's walking over to me/This must be fake/My lip starts to shake/How does she know who I am?/And why does she give a damn about me?

Talking Heads: Once In A Lifetime (this song will have great significance in a later chapter)

And you may ask yourself/How do I work this?/And you may ask yourself/Where is that large automobile?/And you may tell yourself/This is not my beautiful house!/And you may tell yourself/This is not my beautiful wife!/Letting the days go by, let the water hold me down/Letting the days go by, water flowing underground/Into the blue again after the money's gone/Once in a lifetime, water flowing underground

R.E.M.: It’s the End of the World As We Know It (And I Feel Fine)

Six o'clock, T.V. hour, don't get caught in foreign tower/Slash and burn, return, listen to yourself churn/Lock him in uniform, book burning, bloodletting/Every motive escalate, automotive incinerate/Light a candle, light a motive, step down, step down/Watch your heel crush, crush, uh oh/This means no fear, cavalier, renegade and steering clear/A tournament, a tournament, a tournament of lies/Offer me solutions, offer me alternatives and I decline/It's the end of the world as we know it (I had some time alone)/It's the end of the world as we know it (I had some time alone)/It's the end of the world as we know it and I feel fine (time I had some time alone)/I feel fine (I feel fine)

Please no one shit-talk me for revealing I named this ambitious-ass fic after a Hawthorne Heights song I am doing my best

#hard to breathe tag #oop #fanfic #back to the future #bttf #shut up dames

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ineffably-good · 5 years

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I Will Follow You Into the Dark (1/10) (Good Omens Fic)

Read the whole thing on AO3! Completed today. :)

Winter gradually blew over and little peeks of tepid sunlight began to break through the solid London gloom of the grayer months, and as the city began to come back to life, so did Crowley and Frederick. They had become more and more reclusive and incommunicative as the snow and the cold deepened, often sleeping for weeks at a time. Aziraphale was relieved to find them spending less time curled up fast asleep in front of the fire grate – charming as it was to see them together, it got a little dull when one’s companions were constantly unconscious.

Did snakes usually hibernate? He wondered. He hadn’t thought so, but these two could change anyone’s mind on that.

And then one day, at the end of February, he came into the back room and was surprised to find them both sitting up on the couch, looking alert and happy.

“Morning, Aziraphale!” Crowley said, and Frederick even deigned to lift his head up in greeting. “Now that was a good nap! What day is it anyways?”

The angel smiled. “It’s exactly two weeks since the last time you asked me, dear,” he said. He didn’t truly mind; he got a lot of reading done in the winter.

Crowley stretched and got up. “Freddy’s hungry, by the way,” he said, handing the snake to Aziraphale as he went off to have a shower and a change of clothes.

“Are you hungry, little friend?” Aziraphale said, lifting the snake to eye level and examining him.

YES YES YES I’M PRACTICALLY WASTING AWAY HERE, CAN’T YOU TELL? Frederick shrieked. He also thought for a moment and then tried the trick Crowley had been trying to teach him where you move your head up and down in a vertical fashion to indicate your agreement with something.

“Oh!” Aziraphale cooed, delighted. “Look at you, communicating! Was that on purpose, you clever snake?”

ANGELS ARE SO DUMB, Frederick thought in disgust, but he patiently repeated the gesture a few more times, looking the angel dead in the eye.

“Well then,” Aziraphale said, quite pleased. “Let’s get you some dinner.”

They went off to the kitchen, where the angel first poured him a platter of tea (the snake had become especially fond of oolong), and then thawed him a mousicle in the microwave. He placed Frederick in a basket on the tabletop and let him set about a long, slow swallow of his treat.

Crowley arrived a little later, hair freshly washed and a new black shirt half-unbuttoned down his chest. The angel took one look at his disheveled state and swallowed hard.

“Do you know what I was thinking in the shower, angel?” the demon said.

“Wha-huh?” Aziraphale murmured, distracted.

“Ahem,” Crowley said, mock stern. “My eyes are up HERE, angel.”

Aziraphale blushed and pulled his gaze up to Crowley’s face. “Well you’re the one walking around half undressed.”

“Anyhoo,” Crowley continued, “I was thinking that perhaps it’s time for us to get around to actually getting married.”

That got the angel’s attention. It was true, they’d been engaged now for ages and hadn’t really done much to move the process along. It was hard, as immortal beings, to feel like schedules and timelines were anything particularly urgent, but he had to admit he loved the idea of actually having the wedding and making this official.

“Angel?” Crowley butted in. “Input? Don’t tell me you’re having second –”

“No!” Aziraphale cut in. “Of course not! I was just thinking that that sounds delightful! Let’s get started. Did you have a date in mind?”

“I do, actually,” Crowley said. “It’s kind of an unusual reason, but I thought it might be a nice symbol.”

“Well? What is it?”

Crowley explained it, and Aziraphale had to admit, it was perfect.

Crowley, amusingly, was turning out to be quite the dynamo of wedding planning.

“I’ve been reading up,” Crowley said that afternoon, “and according to the major web sites, the first thing we need to do is decide on our wedding’s style.”

“Style?” Aziraphale said. “You mean like a theme?”

“No, like a mood.” He pulled up his phone and flipped through a few pages. “Like are we boho? NO.” He swiped again. “Modern? Not really.” Swipe. “Victorian? Well you are, that’s for sure.” Swipe. “Don’t they have anything in here for ‘ancient ethereal entities’?”

“Why do we have to have a mood, dear?” Aziraphale asked.

“Because it’s a wedding,” Crowley said imperiously, “and that’s what we do. C’mon angel, August 13th isn’t all that far away.”

“It’s six months.”

“Six months is NOTHING!” Crowley shrieked. “We have to get busy.”

Oh dear, Aziraphale thought. This could be interesting.

“You know what we need?” Crowley said suddenly. “Magazines. Come on, angel, get your coat, we’re going out.”

Aziraphale, fearing slightly for his life if he resisted, complied.

Twenty minutes later they were lounged in the magazine section of a chain bookstore, a thought which made Aziraphale shudder, looking through wedding magazines. Aziraphale stood primly, hands behind his back, squinting at the various titles and article teasers, while Crowley sprawled on the floor like a delinquent teen with at least thirty five magazines piled on his lap.

“This one stays here,” he said with disgust, tossing one magazine sloppily to his left. “This one looks promising,” he said, putting another one more carefully on his right.

Aziraphale tutted and picked up the rejected periodical, smoothing out its wrinkled pages with a little celestial energy and carefully placing it back on the shelf in pristine condition. “My dear, you’re going to have to buy them all if you keep this up.”

“Trash!” Crowley sputtered, tossing another one heedlessly to his left. It landed in a crumpled heap.

The angel sighed and picked it up.

He wandered a little further down the aisle and found an interesting section Crowley had missed.

“Dear,” he called, “look at this! There are some wedding magazines down here that have two men on the cover instead of just wedding gowns. And even one with two women! ‘Gay Weddings’ this one is called. Sounds like one we should have, correct?”

Crowley looked up, still serious. “Absolutely,” he said. “Take one of each and put them on the ‘take these home’ pile.”

In the end, they went to the checkout till with seventeen magazines and a thick stack of chocolate bars the angel picked up while they were waiting in line.

“Well we’re going to need reinforcements to read through all of these,” he said when the demon raised an eyebrow at him questioningly.

“You’re right,” the demon said. “Let’s get some takeaway on the way home too. This could be a long evening.”

Aziraphale headed outside the shop to wait while Crowley paid up, amusing himself by scanning the books inside the front window display and deciding how many of them were dreck and how many were actually worth reading. He had reached a grand total of 75% dreck when he suddenly felt a strange chill break over him. He shuddered and looked around, but saw nothing amiss.

Crowley chose that exact moment to emerge from the store, to find the angel turning in a circle glancing around the street. “Everything okay there, angel?”

“Oh, yes dear, I’m fine,” the angel said, shaking the feeling off. He pulled his coat tighter around himself. “Just one of those cold breezes that you get this time of year. The sun can be so deceptive, after all.”

He took the hand the demon held out to him and they set off for the Indian restaurant, and then home.

“We need a location,” Crowley said later, from his position, flopped on the Persian rug in what for anyone else would be a back-breaking and excruciating position but for him was just regular daily posture, surrounded by magazines opened to various spreads with post it notes sprinkled all over them. He appeared to be reading at least four articles at once and was barking comments at Aziraphale about things to write down.

The angel, being eternally patient, sat on the couch with his little black notebook and a fountain pen, neatly writing out all of Crowley’s important points in his tidy copperplate handwriting. LOCATION, he wrote. IMPORTANT.

“Any ideas?” he asked. Somehow, the angel could tell that he was not going to be the major decision maker about most of the wedding details, which was absolutely fine with him. He could marry the demon on the street corner, in a cardboard box, in a restaurant bathroom, and he’d be happy.

Well possibly not a restaurant bathroom.

Crowley rolled onto his back, head on a magazine, and thought a bit. “Not a church, for sure,” he said, “although I do like the idea of that as a way to stick it to the heavenly host, but the burns wouldn’t be worth it.”

“Mmm hmm,” the angel murmured, writing down CHURCH and then crossing it out. It paid to be thorough. “I agree, dearest.”

“Outdoors might be nice. Possibly a hotel.”

“We could do it here,” Aziraphale said, consideringly.

Crowley looked around. “Nah, too dusty here,” he said. “I want to do this right.”

“I’m sure you’re right,” Aziraphale said, writing down and crossing out BOOKSTORE. He thought for a few minutes. “I have a few ideas, actually.”

Crowley rolled onto his side and gave Aziraphale his full attention. “Spill it, love.”

“Well, I believe the British Museum can be rented out…”

Crowley whistled appreciatively. “Married surrounded by the mis-labeled plunder of imperial exploits? I like it!”

Aziraphale rolled his eyes. “Let’s call that a no, then. Perhaps one of the libraries? I hear One Whitehall Place is lovely.”

“That’s possible. We should go look at it.”

“And there’s always Kew Gardens…”

Crowley actually leapt to his feet. “That’s perfect!” he shouted. He grinned at Aziraphale. “Let’s go look at it right now.”

“Crowley, dear, it’s nearly three in the morning.”

“And?”

Aziraphale stood up and brushed his hands off on his pants, noting that it was clearly time to put an end to this bout of mania. “Now listen, my dear,” he said, moving close to his partner. “I love your wild enthusiasm for planning this wedding, but I must insist that we get some rest. We don’t have to plan the entire wedding on the very first day, do we?”

Crowley frowned a little. “Well no one says we couldn’t.”

Aziraphale wrapped his arms around the demon and nuzzled him. “I know,” he said, “but I thought perhaps we could talk a bit about the wedding night, if you know what I mean.”

The demon took a minute to process that idea, but when he comprehended it his eyes lit up and he admitted defeat. “Fine,” he said happily. “But we’re getting back to this tomorrow, you realize.”

Aziraphale grinned. “Oh I can’t imagine we are going to be accomplishing anything else anytime soon, my dear.” He gave Crowley’s hand a tug. “Now come with me.”

The demon allowed himself to be led upstairs.

In his cage, Frederick rolled his eyes. These two were incomprehensible. They came home and scattered colored papers all over the rug in a way that created the perfect warm, messy snake nest, then they abandon it to go sleep in a cold bed on the top floor? He would never understand these two.

#good omens fics #Aziraphale x crowley #ineffable husbands #idiots in love #Frederick the snake #serpent and the seagull stories #part 12 of a series!!#this one gets dark and stressful eventually

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danphanwritingprompts · 6 years

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Friday, February 22nd : Crossover

Last week! I hope y’all have been left with a ton of reading you didn’t even know existed to begin devouring now! I’ll try to organize the crossover list by crossed over phandom

Marvel

A New Home by ilovepuppies125 | Sequel: Sweet 16

This one?? It's a GREAT crossover imo that I feel goes unnoticed in terms of Marvel themed and DP crossovers. It's about Tony Stark adopting Danielle, first to improve his image.

Why I love it? It's just a fantastic premise and it's well written. It's got a bit of a cheese to it, but it's a very charming cheese. Vlad is involved, and the entire way it's handled is just great. I love Dad!Tony, and seeing him with a Danielle who just really needs a family is adorable.

To Be A Hero by liketolaugh

Director Fury learns of Danny existing.

Why I love it? Honestly? The ending gets me. The ending just...I don't know how to describe it without spoiling it. But the ending, in my personal opinion, is the best out of all the Marvel “Danny gets recruited” style phics I've seen because it's just perfect.

Along Came A Spider by Lisa-24-7

Danny goes to New York with his friends on a class trip. Spiderman crossover based on the original Toby McGuire movies (don’t worry, Spiderman 3 didn’t even exist yet when this happened so we’re avoiding that nonsense)

Why I love it? Cute, unique idea! Some of the characters are a bit OOC, but the concepts and mesh of ideas and villains and Spiderman-Danny Phantom team up style story was just so good. It’s one of those nostalgia things for me, since it’s one of the first DP crossover fics I’ve ever read. It still holds up imo, despite some of the cheese that I now notice.

Fairly Odd Parents

A Visit to Amity Park by Anomaly25

This story. Is so old, and such a throwback that half of the series wasn't even canon or aired when this was written. So you'll have to forgive some of the “oddness” of it. It still really holds up though! It's about Timmy going with Vicky's family as they go to visit family in Amity Park.

Why I love it? Simply put, it's the first really, really good DP/FOP phic I've ever read. It's got great ideas, good pacing, FANTASTIC HUMOR. It's just? So good. I'm so sad that it's old, because I feel like due to it's age, people forgot about it, but it's still my main go-to DP/FOP crossover rec. It holds up so well, despite lots of canon events not even happening yet. It's funny too, and it feels like it could be a real crossover.

My Fairly Odd Parents by Youngbountygirl

Another go to recommendation for DP/FOP crossovers! It's about the idea that Cosmo and Wanda were Danny's fairly odd parents and he gets to be reunited with them.

Why I love it? It gave birth to one of my favorite lowkey headcanons that Danny had fairly odd parents, but lost them. It's just such an amazing way to tie two of Hartman's series together, and it's just such a cute little fic. Amazing ideas.

NCIS

Murder Most Spectral by CynthiaW

NCIS and DP crossover! Danny stumbled upon a crime scene while his parents are installing ghost shields in Virginia.

Why I love it? BEST DP/NCIS PHIC I'VE EVER READ, CHANGE MY MIND. It's SO FUCKING well done! There's lots of NCIS crossovers, and they're so good. This one really, really focuses and puts a lot of thought and energy into creating and writing, in depth, about a fake case. It reads and feels like a real NCIS episode. The characterization is flawless in both NCIS and DP. It's so good, pham.

House MD

The Paranormal Case by prophetofgreed

Danny goes into the hospital. House's hospital (House MD/DP crossover).

Why I love it? Holy shit. Holy shit, holy shit I don't want to spoil anything. I cannot rave about why I love this so much without spoiling EVERYTHING. Just read it. Pham, please. Just trust me and read it. Have faith in me, guys.

Delusional by Charmed-And-More

Danny is trapped in the hospital while his hometown is being taken over.

Why I love it? This has such a beautiful and accurate portrayal of House. It really feels like a potential crossover episode. I love Danny and House’s interactions and the main overarching story that landed Danny in the hospital to begin with. I really enjoy that it’s not just a Danny gets into the hospital, but that there’s more to the story. The ending kinda gets a bit cheese imo, but it’s still incredibly solid and the entire thing is a well paced, beautiful read.

Phineas and Ferb

Just a crazy day in Psychology by Deborahpflover

Phineas and Ferb and DP crossover where Jazz interviews Candace during a therapy session.

Why I love it? It's so well written. It's a fantastic little insight into the mind of Candace and helps explore why Jazz has such a great psychologist mind.

Teen Titans

Earthbound Spirit by TheTragicHero

Danny and Starfire bonding after Danny is betrayed by his friends to the GIW

Why I love it? Honestly, Tucker and Sam are OOC. But I'll accept it because it's rarely shown and it sets up such a fucking fantastic, angsty and beautiful plot. So well paced, fantastically written. It explores a friendship between Starfire and Danny as Starfire joins the Teen Titans and Danny as he struggles with whether or not he wants to continue being a hero post-being betrayed. Out of all the TT/DP crossovers, this one? This one sticks out in my mind. This one just hits me where it hurts and has taken residence in my heart as something truly special.

Gravity Falls

Specters and Swindlers by D3athrav3n92

Danny accidentally got hit into another dimension and basically hangs out with Stan from his being in prison up and into the events of Gravity Falls. Hnn breaking rules again because it's not done but fight me.

Why I love it? Guys. I know, I know, I know it sounds so weird. The premise is so odd and so unusual for what most people write for a GF/DP crossover. But Pham. Pham, it works so well. It's so fucking well written and captures an absolutely beautiful friendship between Danny and Stan. It eventually gets to him being such a protective and great caregiver to the twins. I love it. It's so good. I'm breaking all my rules today, fuck it. I love these fanfics man.

Harry Potter

Spellbound by Iymea

It's popular but I just NEED to talk about it??? It's so good. It's a FANTASTIC Harry Potter/DP crossover. It's about Danny getting into wizard legal magic trouble and being stuck at Hogwarts.

Why I love it? It just works into and builds upon the HP and DP worlds so well. It's so good, so well written, fantastically paced, great characterization and just...it's so good. Please read this. I beg you.

The Fenton Family Smirk by MechaYourOwn

GREAT ONESHOT CROSSOVER between HP/DP!! SO GOOD! It's about Danny being Harry's long lost twin brother.

Why I love it? It follows Danny going to Hogwarts following the death of his parents, and honestly? He reacts how I feel he'd realistically would about the whole thing. The entire beautiful charm in this is in that Danny is just so??? Snarky and anger in this, which fits him so well. Heavily recommend.

Puppet by Pandemi

Oneshot where the Joker takes control of Danny using Freakshow style mind control.

Why I love it? The charm! It's got this great, well written aspect to it, combined with the great portrayals of Batman, Danny, the Joker, everything. It's an amazing oneshot!

#phandom phic recs #nick posts #not a prompt #this is LATE FOR ME BC I WAS A SLEEPY BASTARD

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thiswomanshouldbewriting · 6 years

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Holding on and Letting Go

This is my @rumbellebigbang fic, and damn was it hard to write. I never would have made it without my amazing beta @galactic-pirates and my partner @desperatemurph who made this awesome gifset.

I am posting the whole story on tumblr but you can also find it here on Ao3.

Summary: On a night like any other, Belle French comes home tired from work, and wants nothing more than a good night of rest. Someone, however, shows up at her door: it's Gideon, the son she gave up for adoption thirteen years before. Shocked but also overjoyed, Belle hopes to finally get a place in her estranged son's life. His adoptive father, however, is incredibly protective of him; will she manage to convince Mr Gold that she's not a threat, just a mother that had to make a terrible choice?

Belle kicked her shoes off as she entered her apartment, unceremoniously dropping her purse to the floor next to them. Being tidy was a problem for tomorrow Belle; right now, even the thought of having to change into her pajamas felt like too much work.

She was contemplating whether it would be really awful to sleep in the clothes she’d worn at work when the doorbell rang. She couldn’t think of anyone she knew who could be looking for her at this late hour, and her mind immediately provided her with a number of scenarios involving serial killers. Through the peephole she saw a nervous-looking boy on the other side of the door. He didn’t exactly look threatening, so she resolved to open the door, but she was ready to close it at the first sign of danger.

“Who are you?” she asked, looking at the boy more closely and trying to remember if she had seen him before. He did look oddly familiar now that she thought of it.

“Are you Belle French?” he asked instead of answering.

“I asked you first, but I’ll let this slide because it’s written on the doorbell anyway. Yes, I am Belle French,” she answered, eyeing him curiously.

“My name is Gideon Gold. I’m your son,” he said simply, flashing her a little smile.

His words seemed to take forever to register in Belle’s brain, as all the memories that she had tried to suppress for over a decade came back with a vengeance, hitting her with the force of a truck.

“No. No you can’t be,” she contested weakly, but she very well knew he could.

“Didn’t you give a baby up for adoption on February 12th thirteen years ago?” Gideon asked her, clearly knowing what her answer would be.

Belle just couldn’t find the strength to say yes. Instead, she took a step back and motioned Gideon to follow her inside.

“I need a cup of coffee, do you want something?” she said as a starter, busying herself at the kitchen counter so that she could keep her back turned to him; she couldn’t bear to look him in the eyes.

“Could I get something to eat instead? I didn’t finish my dinner and walked a long way to come here,” he asked, and out of the corner of her eye Belle could see that he had already claimed her armchair as his, looking so at home in her house that it hurt. She opened the fridge, looking for something to make a sandwich with.

“Why are you here at two in the morning? Where are your parents?” she asked, trying to bring her mind back to the present and away from dangerous could-have-beens. She just hoped Gideon didn’t notice the slight tremble in her voice.

“I found out you lived here months ago. I just never had the courage to come here until now. Bad timing, I know, but I simply felt like it today,” he said, then quickly added: “Did you read all the books in that bookcase? Some of them are my favorites!”

“Look, I don’t know what you think of me, but I’m not an idiot. Either you tell me what’s going on or I call the cops,” Belle said, suddenly finding the courage to turn around and stare him down.

“If you do, I’ll tell them you kidnapped me,” Gideon replied without missing a beat.

“And they’ll believe you because I’m your birthmother. You’re clever, I’ll give you that,” Belle said, feeling a foolish surge of pride for the kid that she couldn’t and shouldn’t consider her son. “I still need to know what happened though. Unless you plan on escaping abroad, your parents will find you sooner rather than later, and I’ll be in trouble anyway. As you can see, I have very little to lose, so you’d better start talking.”

“Ok, fine,” Gideon groaned eventually. “I argued with my mom’s boyfriend because his idea of ‘bonding time’ is badmouthing my father all the time. My adoptive mother got mad and kicked me out of the house mid-dinner, so I walked over here and waited for you to get back.”

“She kicked you out of the house for that?” Belle asked, trying to control the anger in her voice. She knew she was hardly in a position to judge when she had kicked Gideon out of her entire life, but at least she had known her son would be taken care of. Kicking him out with only the clothes on his back was downright cruel.

“Yes, well, it’s not like she enjoys having me around that much. I’m pretty sure I’m mostly an annoyance to her,” Gideon said bitterly.

“I’m sure that’s not true. She adopted you, she wanted you, and I’m sure she still does. Maybe she doesn’t always make the right choices, but I’m sure she loves you,” Belle said, laying the plate with sandwiches next to Gideon and taking one of his hands in hers. It had been so long since she’d last held him, and all she wanted to do was to cry, but she had to be strong for him, at least this time around. She owed him that much.

“You wouldn’t say that if you knew her,” Gideon muttered, not looking Belle in the eyes. “But thanks anyway.” He grabbed one of the sandwiches then, and silence fell over them as he ate.

“So, you mentioned your father. Why didn’t you call him?” Belle asked after a while.

“I didn’t have my phone,” Gideon answered with a shrug.

“And you couldn’t have borrowed someone else’s? I’m sure many people would have been ready to help a lost boy. Or maybe you could have stayed at a friend’s house. Why come here of all places?” Belle inquired. She didn’t want him to feel under interrogation, but she needed to know what was going on.

“Look, I didn’t want to go to my father or to a friend’s house. I just wanted to come here, okay?” Gideon bit back, hurt creeping in his voice.

Belle sighed, taking a long moment to evaluate her next action.

“Gideon, I don’t want you to think that I’m unhappy you’re here. I’m confused and shocked and sorry for what I put you through, but I’m happy I finally get to see you again,” she started off, trying once again to keep her voice level as she treaded such dangerous ground. “But I can’t truly enjoy this moment if I know your parents are worried sick about you. I know this feels a lot easier to you, but spending time with me will only make things more complicated when your parents eventually find you. How do you think they’ll feel when they find out you came to me?”

Gideon looked away from her, the pout on his face making him look even younger.

“I don’t care. My adoptive mother doesn’t really care about me, why shouldn’t I at least have you?” he grumbled.

Belle sighed. Gideon was hurting, and he had turned to her with all the spite and desperation that only a teen could have. He needed affection, but he also wanted to punish his mother, maybe to make her jealous. Maybe Belle was only the means to that end, and deep down she really didn’t know how that thought made her feel. Being all but used by her son and then forgotten would be hell - which she totally deserved - but a sincere affection might be even worse. Would his parents even allow her back in her son’s life, or would she have to let him go a second time? And if they tried to bond but Gideon found her sorely lacking, would her heart be strong enough to handle that rejection?

“Of course you can have me,” Belle said, her treacherous heart singing at the prospect. “But please, please call your family before I truly get arrested for kidnapping. Maybe you could call one of your grandparents? Mine were always ready to forgive me for anything, and they’d talk my parents into forgiving me as well. Here, you can use my phone,”

Gideon pondered her words for a few seconds, taking her phone in his hands.

“Maybe… maybe I could call my brother. He won’t tell dad where I am if I ask him not to. I can have him tell mom and dad that I’m fine, so they won’t worry. Can I… can I spend the night here if I do this?” Gideon asked, his big hazel eyes shining with hope.

Belle knew that it was nearly impossible that his parents would be happy not knowing where he was spending the night, but how could she refuse Gideon when he so clearly needed to feel that an adult was on his side?

“Okay, but put the phone on speaker, I want to make sure you are not just pretending to call. I’m truly risking prison here,” Belle warned him.

Gideon had barely started dialing the number when the doorbell rang.

“Are you waiting for someone?” he asked, even though he had the feeling he knew exactly who was pounding on the door like crazy.

“Miss French, I have already called the police,” a man hollered from outside. “Open this door now or I swear I’ll have it brought down. And if you have hurt even a single hair on Gideon’s head I promise you’ll regret having ever been born!”

Belle felt the sudden, irrational instinct to run away, the same visceral fear she’d felt when labor began and she realized there was no escaping the pain. She forced herself to step towards the door on legs that felt like lead, wondering if Gideon’s father would give her time to explain herself or if he’d have her taken to jail straight away.

Surprisingly, he didn’t do either of those things. The moment she opened the door, he sprinted past her as if she didn’t even exist, running to his son and wrapping him in a bone-crushing hug. Belle looked away from them, and found herself facing two other men, one of whom was a policeman.

“Don’t worry about Officer Graham. I couldn’t convince my father to come here without the police, but as long as Gideon is fine - and I’m sure he is - we won’t press charges or anything,” the younger man said, offering his hand for her to shake. “I’m Neal, by the way, Gideon’s brother.”

He was smiling at her, albeit a little awkwardly, and that made her feel a bit better.

“He just showed up at my door, I swear I didn’t contact him first. I was about to make him call you. I’m truly sorry for this mess, you must have been worried sick,” she apologized, focusing on Neal because she still couldn’t find the courage to look at Gideon’s father. Judging from the rage in his voice as he knocked on her door, she had the feeling he was far less chill about this than his son.

“I have no doubt about it. Gideon had told me he was looking for you, so when he went missing I knew exactly where to look,” Neal explained.

“Couldn’t you have kept your mouth shut? I was fine, and I would have let you know!” Gideon complained, slipping away from his father’s arms.

“No, you shut up. You made dad completely freak out. We had to ask Dove to drive us here because dad was so nervous that he couldn’t even keep the steering wheel straight. What were you even thinking?”

There was a flash of guilt in Gideon’s eyes, but whatever he was about to say was cut short when his father stepped between him and Neal.

“We clearly have a lot to discuss, but we’ll have plenty of time for that when we get back home. I’m sure Miss French has better things to do than listen to our family drama, and we’ve already bothered her enough,” Gold said.

He barely deigned her a glance but, when he did, Belle wished he hadn’t. He stared at her as if she were a speck of dirt on his polished shoes, his gaze filled with hostility like she had seldom known, a mixture of hatred and disgust she only remembered seeing in her father’s eyes.

“It’s no matter, really. I just wanted to help Gideon,” she said somewhat awkwardly.

“Well, clearly your help isn’t needed anymore,” Gold said, his voice cutting as steel. “We’ll be on our way now.”

Neal flashed her an apologetic smile as they exited the apartment, and Gideon lingered for a quick surprise hug. Belle could feel Gold’s eyes burning into her as she tentatively wrapped her arms around her son, but she was ready to fight his rage for Gideon. He didn’t say anything though, and soon enough she was shutting the door behind them. After the turmoil of the past half-hour, her home felt eerily quiet now. She started pacing around, tidying up the place to give herself something to do and restrain from thinking about how much it had hurt to watch Gideon walk away. Sleeping would have helped her, but even though she was exhausted her brain was fully awake. When, over an hour later, she got into her bed, she kept tossing and turning as memories and nightmares blurred together in a constant cycle of dozing off and waking up with tears in her eyes.

Her sleep was too light and restless to keep her from hearing her phone buzzing in the early hours of the morning. The lack of sleep was making her feel light-headed, so it took her a few seconds to focus on the words contained in the message, which was from a number she didn’t recognize.

‘We just got home. Dad was mad af and spent the entire trip scolding me, but he has calmed down now, and I’m not even grounded! He’s incredibly pissed at mom though, and now they’re fighting on the phone. Thank you for today, I hope you don’t mind I got your number when I took your phone. Love, Gideon.’

If she had been less sleepy, Belle would have taken some time to consider the implications of every possible answer she could send him. Instead, with her heart hammering in her chest, she quickly wrote the words that she felt were the truest.

‘I’m glad you’re okay, and I don’t mind about the number at all. I’m always here if you need me. Love, Belle.’

She laid back on her bed, clutching her phone to her chest, giddy and heartbroken all at once. It was only when her alarm went off two hours later that she realized that, after Gideon’s message, she had finally managed to sleep.

Throughout the following days, Gideon kept messaging her with alarming regularity. He told her about how his day had been and asked about hers, he complained about how silly his brother became whenever a certain Emma was involved, and showered her with his thoughts about pretty much every fantasy saga he had been able to put his hands on. Belle liked to think that his love for books came from her, and the thought warmed her from the inside. His messages, however, worried her just as much as they rejoiced her. She truly wanted to be close to Gideon, yet she worried that she was only making things worse for him, teaching him to keep secrets from his parents and undermining their authority in her selfish desire to fix her past failings.

After a few days of furious debating with herself, she eventually resolved to ask for a friend’s help. There were very few people who knew she had given her son up for adoption, and she had cut them all out of her life, for good reason. This meant that if she wanted someone’s advice, she’d need to come clean about her past first.

Ariel had a daughter of her own, so she was the only one of her friends who could speak from experience, but that also meant that she would truly understand the gravity of what Belle had done. By talking to her, Belle could jeopardize the life she had built for herself; if Ariel recoiled from her, if she called her a monster and told all their friends just what kind of woman she was, Belle really wouldn’t be able to blame her, but she’d also need to move again, just like she’d done as soon as she’d finished high school. Her own guilt was heavy enough to bear; she couldn’t live with other people’s judgment as well.

They met that afternoon, and Belle’s voice trembled as she started telling her story, but her friend proved more than worthy of her trust. Ariel let Belle talk without interrupting, and if there was a flicker of shock or horror in her eyes she did her best to hide it. When the tale was finally over, and Belle felt like she’d just run a marathon, the first thing Ariel did was hug her.

“I’m so sorry. You deserved better, both you and your son,” she said, holding her so tightly that it almost hurt. It was exactly what Belle had needed, and she had to take a few deep breaths to keep from sobbing in relief.

“I gave him up for that, to offer him something better, but now I’m not sure of what that is anymore,” she admitted.

Ariel pulled back, but kept a strong hold of her hands, a reminder that she was not going to leave her. “I will be honest with you, Belle: if I were Gideon’s adoptive mother, I’d want to know that you’re in contact with him. The more you drag this on secretly, the more suspicious your behavior looks.”

“And what if his parents forbid him to talk to me again?”

“It’s a possibility, I can’t deny that, but Gideon cares about you and he has already shown just how determined he is to have a relationship with you again. You can’t expect his parents to be happy that he’s looking for another parent, but as wary or unhappy as they might be, they should let you see him for Gideon’s sake. Your son made the first step, Belle, but now it’s up to you to make sure that you go about this the right way.”

As much as it scared Belle to admit it, Ariel was right. Somehow, she had to work up the courage to speak to Gideon’s parents, starting with his father. She was pretty sure the man hated her, yet he was the one Gideon was closer to. Besides, she was still mad at his mother for kicking him out of the house, and she wasn’t sure she could hold a whole conversation with her without bringing that up. Gideon wasn’t all that happy when she mentioned her intentions to him, because he too was afraid that his father would try to put an end to their newfound relationship. He even went so far as to call her for the first time, but Belle, just like she’d done on the night he’d come looking for her, gradually managed to convince him, and soon enough she had Gold’s phone number registered. All she had to do now was find the courage to actually call him. She stared at her phone screen for what felt like hours, and eventually chickened out by telling herself that it was too late to call him anyway, and that he’d probably be pissed if she called him now.

She stalled as long as she could the following morning, but way too soon she was ready to start the day and make that phonecall. Holding her breath, she pressed the ‘call’ button and waited. It took Gold a while to pick up, so much that she had been about to hang up when he finally did.

“Ah, good morning, is this Mr Gold?” she stammered, her throat feeling as dry as sandpaper.

“Yes. Who am I talking to?”

“I know this might be surprising, but I’m Belle French and I’m…” she started, only to be harshly cut off.

“I know exactly who you are, and this is why I suggest you hang up right now and delete this number, unless you want to find yourself in serious trouble,” he hissed at her. The rage and disgust in his voice made her want to cry, but Belle knew that, with Gideon’s happiness at stake, she couldn’t afford to have a breakdown.

“Gideon and I have been messaging ever since he came looking for me,” she said quickly, before Gold could decide to hang up himself. “He took my number when I told him to call you. I wanted you to know.”

There was silence on the other end of the line for a while. Right when Belle was starting to think he might have hung up on her after all, Gold’s ice-cold voice reached her ears again.

“And you’ve called so I can make it stop? You’ve realized teens are still as much work as newborns, but that it’s so much harder to shut the door in their face when they’re old enough to realize it?”

His assumptions were so absurdly wrong that, for a moment, Belle couldn’t find the words to reply. “No, no, how can you think I… you got it all wrong,” she explained hastily, horrified by the image Gold clearly had of her. “I don’t want you to put an end to this, I would never ask you to. I’m actually calling for the opposite reason; I want this to go on, but I don’t want to do this behind your back. I don’t want Gideon to lie to you. I know you have every reason to be wary of me, but I really want nothing more than to make Gideon happy, and I hope I can prove that to you.”

“I believe this is something we should discuss in person. I can drive to Boston and be there early in the afternoon,” he said, and Belle didn’t know if she should be happy that he wasn’t flat-out telling her no, or worried that he hadn’t said yes.

“I’m afraid I’ll be at work then. Could we do next Monday instead? And I could be the one to drive over, I don’t want to inconvenience you more than necessary.”

“No, I’m driving over to you,” he insisted, his tone admitting no protest. “I’ll be there on Monday in the early afternoon. I’d be glad if you didn’t tell Gideon about this meeting before Monday, I’d rather not have him worrying about what we might or might not tell each other.”

His voice, that had been cold and distant throughout the whole exchange, seemed to warm up a little as he mentioned Gideon, and that gave Belle hope. He truly loved her… well, his son, so why should he keep Gideon from his birthmother if that connection was important to him?

That thought kept her company throughout the following days, helping ease her nervousness at the upcoming meeting, but by Monday morning she was a nervous wreck nonetheless. She woke up unbelievably early, and started making rounds of her apartment - which she had spent the entire week cleaning and tidying up - to make sure that everything was truly spotless. Still with plenty of time to spare before Gold’s arrival, she took extra care in her outfit and make up; she only had this one shot at impressing him, and everything had to be perfect. She nearly jumped out of her skin when the doorbell finally rang. She took a deep breath, trying and failing to calm herself, then opened the door.

Gold gave her a cold nod, then strolled in as if he owned the place. Judging from his tailored suit and from what Gideon had told her, he could probably afford to. During their first meeting she had been so nervous that she had somehow failed to notice he used a cane, but even that couldn’t make him look any less intimidating.

“Would you…” she started off awkwardly, then paused to clear her throat. “Would you like something to drink?” she tried again, her voice sounding a little more confident this time.

“Miss French, we both know I’m not here for a drink or for small talk. I’m here to know what you want, and I don’t like wasting my time,” he replied drily.

Under his scrutiny, Belle felt nearly paralyzed, but she pushed that feeling down, focusing solely on the thought of Gideon and drawing strength from that. She straightened her back and stared at Gold with all the determination she was capable of.

“I want a place in Gideon’s life, as long as he wants me to have it. I gave up my parental rights fourteen years ago and I know that there’s no changing that, that I’m not legally his parent anymore, but he came looking for me, and I want to be able to be as close to him as a friend would. I want to be able to call him and message him and just be by his side if he needs me. Please give me this chance.”

She had rehearsed this request a billion times in her mind, and all things considered she was satisfied with the result; her voice had sounded polite but firm, and she had made her intentions pretty clear while also reassuring Gold that she wasn’t trying to replace him or his ex-wife. She was expecting to see some kind of reaction in him, a sign of acceptance or denial, but his expression remained stressfully blank as he pondered her words. He was looking at her strangely, as if he were trying to see through her.

“So I’m guessing there’s no amount of money that could persuade you to disappear again?” he asked eventually.

For a moment, Belle was so shocked that she believed she’d misheard. He couldn’t be trying to do this, not really.

“I’m sorry?” was all she managed to say, part of her nervousness disappearing in the face of her mounting disdain.

“You see, you wouldn’t be the first to try this trick. Birthparents reappear, they play nice for a while, and when the adoptive parents start feeling threatened by their presence they ask for a nice check in exchange for their absence. Or maybe you just realized that you’d be better off financially if you tagged along with my family, and are willing to put up with Gideon for that. If that’s the case, I’d rather pay you now than let Gideon get attached and then suffer when you reveal yourself for who you truly are. Name a sum, and we’ll have a deal,” he explained, his eyes still fixed on her, careful to catch her reaction. He really shouldn’t have bothered; even a blind man would have noticed the shock and horror in her expression.

“I’m not that kind of person. I don’t care who you are or how big of a sum you can give me. The life I have I built it myself, with no help, and I certainly don’t need yours now. I want what I couldn’t have thirteen years ago: I want my son.”

Belle was almost surprised by the resolution in her voice, but she barely had time to revel in her newfound determination, because Gold’s scowl suddenly deepened.

“That’s where you’re wrong. He’s not your son, not anymore, as even you have pointed out,” he hissed, looking so threatening that Belle was tempted to take a step back. “He’s mine, and so far you’ve given precious little reason for me to let you anywhere near him again. You say you have good intentions, but your actions say the contrary. You’re the one who tossed him away and never looked back. You’re the one that’s causing him to lie and run away, all things he had never done before. Maybe you don’t want money, and maybe you think you want to be a mother, but how do I know you won’t just play the part of the cool parent for a while and disappear the moment things get rough? You’ve done it before, after all, and I won’t let Gideon be hurt again.”

At some point during his rant, something inside of Belle snapped. His accusations, so wrong yet so similar to the voices she heard in her nightmares, brought out feelings she had barely known were simmering inside of her. When thinking of what she’d done, she was used to shame and guilt, but this time all she felt was rage. Rage at life, at how stupid she’d been, and more than anything at all those people who - just like Gold - thought they knew everything, when they understood nothing.

“How dare you?” she asked him, taking one step forward so that they were almost face to face. “How dare you make assumptions about me when you know nothing. You don’t know what it was like. You don’t know how hard it was for me. You have no idea of what it is like to hold your son, that you love more than anything, and then hand him over to a stranger because you can’t take care of him. You don’t know. Years ago I let other people force me to walk out of his life, but this time is different. If you want to keep me away from Gideon you’ll have to step over my dead body, because this time I’m fighting tooth and nail for him.”

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so furious and so alive. Her words, her indignation felt so right, and she was frustrated by how unaffected Gold was by the whole thing. She felt as though she could incinerate him with a single look, and yet here he stood, impassable to the storm raging inside of her. She hated it.

“So, you’re not going to say anything?” she prompted him, needing an answer, ready to fight.

“Well, I’m not going to give you visitation rights or schedule for Gideon to come over here,” he started off, gesturing at her to let him continue when she tried to protest. “But at the same time Gideon is old enough to decide whether he wants to hear from you or not. As long as he’s okay with it, you two can keep in touch in whatever way he wishes. If he wants to meet you, however, I want to be informed, and if I decide I’d rather be present for the encounter you won’t object. And God help you if I ever find out you’re causing Gideon to lie or run away again. You only get one chance at this, Miss French, and I’m not a forgiving man. If you blow this, if you cause Gideon any harm, I’ll tear you and your life apart piece by piece.”

Belle was so relieved that she thought she might faint. The weight that had been pressing on her chest since she was sixteen had suddenly been lifted; at long last, she could be with her son.

“Thank you, thank you so much. I promise you won’t regret this,” she vowed, barely restraining herself from hugging him; she had a feeling he wouldn’t appreciate that. “What about his mother? I’ll need her approval as well, do you think she’ll be okay with this?”

Gold looked surprised for a moment, as if he hadn’t been expecting Milah to be involved, then shook his head. “You don’t have to worry about Milah, I’ll talk to her. If I were you, I’d keep out of her line of sight as much as possible; she doesn’t like competition, and she will see you as a rival for Gideon’s affection. She’ll have to accept this situation for Gideon’s sake, but that does not mean she’ll like it, and she could turn quite nasty on you,” Gold warned her. He seemed to be looking at her differently now, still distant but much less wary, and definitely no longer angry or disgusted. The fact that he was even going out of his way to help her deal with his ex-wife felt nearly surreal.

“Do you really think she’ll be that upset? The last thing I want is to bring conflict into Gideon’s life.”

“As you might have noticed, there’s conflict between Gideon and Milah already. Strangely enough, your presence might just be the thing Milah needs to realize she needs to fix things between them,” Gold reassured her. “I still suggest you limit your phonecalls to Gideon when he’s at her place though. He would normally be staying with her here in Boston now that it’s summer, but after everything that happened Milah and I agreed it would be better if he moved back to Storybrooke a bit sooner than anticipated. He’ll be with her every other weekend for the duration of the school year, plus the occasional holiday.”

Belle took mental notes of all of that, thanking him again. She still couldn’t believe all of this was truly happening.

“Now that we’ve reached an agreement on your situation with Gideon, I have to ask you if there’s any chance of his father showing up as well,” Gold asked after a beat of silence, and the question sounded so absurd to Belle’s ears that she couldn’t help but let out a humorless laugh.

“Believe me, I’d be the most surprised if he did. The only time we ever spoke of my pregnancy he suggested I terminate it. I’m not even sure he knows I gave Gideon up for adoption, and I haven’t seen him in over a decade. The chances of him finding Gideon are abysmal, and the chances of him caring about him are even below that. I wouldn’t worry about the father if I were you.”

The heartbreak Gary had caused her had faded through the years, but the sheer disgust at the person he was had only increased. Now, as a grown woman, she fully understood just how vile he had been, how slyly he had taken advantage of her, and she pitied her younger self for ever falling for him.

“Looks like there is someone out there who deserved my anger after all. I’m sorry I thought that was you,” Gold said, something dangerous flickering inside his eyes. He was angry, but not at her, and it was a nice change. She remembered the threat he had made, how he’d destroy her and her life if she ever hurt Gideon, and in that moment she knew that’s exactly what he would do to Gary if she ever gave him his name. For a second, she was tempted to do just that, but there was too much at stake to indulge in vengeance. Messing with Gary could lead him to Gideon, and that was the last thing she wanted; for her son’s sake, her past had to stay in the past.

“I’ll be going then. Everything is settled and I have a long drive ahead of me,” Gold said, moving towards the door.

“Can I offer you anything? A cup of tea maybe, or I could make you a sandwich for the trip,” she offered again. She owed him more than she’d ever be able to say, but a sandwich was as good a place to start as any.

“There’s really no need. Goodbye, Miss French.”

The door closed behind him, and Belle stared at it for a few seconds, still struggling to believe the past half-hour hadn’t been a dream. He had said yes. She felt like laughing and crying at the same time, yet she couldn’t bring herself to do either. Suddenly, she realized she had to tell Gideon about this. He had been so worried and ready to fight his dad on this, but there would be no need, and she was so happy she could give him good news. She grabbed her phone and, for the first time, called her son’s number. Today started their second chance.

________________________________________________________________________________

By the time October rolled around, Belle was the happiest person in the world. After her encounter with Gold, things with Gideon had gone wonderfully, and her treasured collection of photos of him was growing rapidly. One of her favorites, that she had printed and framed, was the one she’d taken the first time she’d gone to Storybrooke, on Gideon’s first day of high school. It had been the first milestone of his life she’d been present for, and it had been hard to hide her tears as he hugged her before entering school. Another photo she kept in her wallet at all times, and just looking at it could brighten even the worst day.

She’d felt ill at ease in Storybrooke at first. In a quiet little town like that, a normal visitor was bound to be noticed, but being Gideon’s birthmother had put her directly at the center of the town’s gossip for a while. Gideon had been key to overcoming that; he’d been so obviously overjoyed at having her there, and so proud to be seen with her, that for the first time she’d forgotten to think of other people’s judgment. It didn’t always work, of course, but she liked to think she was getting better at it.

One of the first things Gideon had shown her in Storybrooke was the library: it was closed, unfortunately, but the ladder that went to the clocktower on top of it was still usable, and Belle found herself loving the view of the town from up there just as much as Gideon did.

“The mayor shut the library down years ago, but I’ll have it reopened. I’ll be the librarian and have all kind of initiatives: reading groups, writing groups, Harry Potter themed events, everything. I’ll make this part of the library too: this place was made to be a reading nook. Everybody is going to love it.” he had told her, gesturing vaguely around him as if he could already see the finished work.

“I feel like you’ve been planning this for a while, haven’t you?”

“Ever since I read Matilda as a kid. I even have a notebook on which I write every idea for this place. I don’t usually talk about this to people. I want to keep it a secret from dad, because he knows the mayor and I’m sure he could get the place reopened in a matter of minutes, but I want to do it myself.” he had said, still bubbling with enthusiasm. Then his expression had turned uncertain “Do you think it’s silly?”

“No, not at all. I always wanted to be a librarian as well,” Belle had said, stepping away from the window. “It’s nice to see you want the same.”

“Then why aren’t you one? Is it… is it because you got pregnant with me?” he had asked hesitantly.

Gideon had never asked her why she’d given him up, and she had never been brave enough to bring the matter up. Still, she could feel the need to know simmering inside of him, and every time he asked her something about her past she could feel the biggest, most dreaded question drawing a bit closer.

“No, absolutely not,” she had answered truthfully. “I started working right after high school, but I went to university afterwards. I’m not a librarian simply because it’s hard to find a librarian position, especially one that is decently paid. It’s a good thing that you’ve already found the perfect place to work at, isn’t it?”

Bringing Gideon’s attention back to his dream had distracted him and lightened the atmosphere, and for that day she hadn’t had to deal with any more hard questions. The idea of telling him about her past scared her more than it should have. Gideon had known she’d given him up for adoption, and yet he came looking for her, so he clearly had made some sort of peace with that. Yet the idea of telling him about his father - or hers, for that matter - felt so wrong. She didn’t want him to know how evil some people could be, and she wanted even less to admit how she’d let people like them defeat her, cornering her to the point where she had to give up the most precious thing in her life. She was ashamed to admit to her son that she’d let other people tear them apart.

Gradually, the colorful autumn leaves were replaced by the first flurries of snow, and as Christmas drew closer Belle learned with a little disappointment that she wouldn’t see Gideon for Christmas, as she’d secretly hoped.

“I’m staying with my mom… well, my other mom. Even if I’m supposed to spend half the holidays with her, she generally lets me go back to dad’s place if I want, but this year she insisted we spend some time together. Sorry,” Gideon explained on the phone.

Belle was glad he couldn’t see her face, so she didn’t have to hide her sadness. Rationally, she knew it was only a good thing if Gideon spent more time with Milah and mended the complicated relationship he had with her, but a little part of her couldn’t help but feel jealous. Given that she wouldn’t be spending her Christmas with Gideon, she accepted to switch shifts with Tiana at the restaurant and work on Christmas day. The day was every bit as chaotic as they expected, and Belle was so busy that she almost didn’t notice the group that had just sat at a nearby table.

Neal spotted her the same moment she saw him. His eyes grew wide in surprise, then he abruptly turned around and stared at the woman in front of him with such rage that Belle was surprised Milah didn’t catch fire on the spot. She either didn’t notice his death glare or didn’t care about it, because she kept chatting with the man beside her as if nothing had happened. Beside Neal, still oblivious to everything, sat Gideon.

Belle scurried away from the table, thankful that it was not her responsibility but Cecelia’s, but still painfully aware that she wouldn’t be able to hide her presence from them for long. Under normal circumstances, she wouldn’t mind Gideon being there; she worked at a fancy restaurant like any other, and she would be glad to just be able to say hi in between serving tables. The problem was Milah. Even if Belle could have given her the benefit of the doubt, Neal’s stare accused her; Milah hadn’t just casually stumbled upon the same restaurant Belle worked at, she had planned this, but to what purpose Belle couldn’t tell. She doubted, however, that Milah’s intentions were entirely innocent.

Belle tried to carry on as if nothing was happening, but not even five minutes had gone by before she heard Gideon exclaim: “Mom?”

“Yes, dear, what do you want?” Milah answered, sporting a sickeningly sweet smile.

For a moment, Belle thought Gideon was about to make a scene. For a moment, so did Gideon. He realized, however, that there would be no point in doing so: if Milah was doing this on purpose, as he strongly suspected, calling her out on it would just give her a chance to attack Belle directly. If this was a mere coincidence, or if Milah knew his birthmother worked here but didn’t know her face, making a scene would only point her in the right direction. So he bit back the angry remark that had been on the tip of his tongue, and tried to carry on as if nothing were happening.

It was hands down the worst Christmas any of them could remember, except for Milah and her boyfriend - Keith, if Belle remembered his name right - who seemed to be having the time of their lives. They tried to call Belle to their table more than once, dissipating once and for all any doubts on the coincidence of the whole thing. Belle thanked all of her lucky stars that Cecelia was always quick to intervene, because Milah seemed to be determined to make things as complicated and uncomfortable as possible: she changed her order several times and found literally every excuse to complain, which was just the cherry on top of the already busy Christmas lunch. By the time the four of them finally left the restaurant, Belle didn’t know whether to feel relieved or angry. Gold had warned her that Milah wasn’t the nicest person around, but purposefully ruining her son’s Christmas just to spite his birthmother was simply too much.

That day set a distinct change in the family dynamics. After a long discussion with Gold - who once again wanted to deal with Milah on his own - they decided to confront Milah together. The meeting was one of the most unpleasant experiences Belle had ever had. Milah had a particular talent for getting under her skin, alternating between shouting and whispering viciously as she brought up all the things that hurt Belle the most: how she had abandoned Gideon, how she wasn’t his real mother, how she wasn’t worthy of him. It took all of Belle’s willpower to keep herself together, but what really shocked her was how easily Milah could hurt Gold as well. Despite his attempts, he couldn’t quite hide his flinch whenever his former wife spat hateful words at him, and even if his remarks were just as cutting as hers, they lacked that particular, unsettling cruelty.

Milah eventually had to cave in when Gold threatened to bring this to a judge and let them decide whether or not Milah still deserved to see Gideon after what she’d done. She gave Belle the more insincere apology she could muster, and promised she’d never again do something like that. Belle found it very hard to believe her, and even though this technically counted as a win on hers and Gold’s part, Milah’s words had taken such a toll on them that she just couldn’t shake the feeling of having been defeated.

“Do you have to head back home straight away? I think we could both use a warm drink right now,” Belle suggested, pointing at a coffee shop nearby.

Gold glanced back at his parked car, clearly weighing the options.

“Okay,” he said eventually, surprising her.

The place was crowded, as was to be expected on such a cold day, but luckily they found a free table in one corner and ordered two teas.

“I’ll never understand how you don’t freeze to death dressed like that,” Gold said as she took off her coat, revealing clothes that he would have seen more fit for spring. Late spring.

“Well, I’ll never understand how you’re not sweating to death when dressed like that. You remind me of a girl I once shared an apartment with; we were constantly arguing over the heating, and eventually she moved out.”

“It’s a good thing we don’t live together then,” he joked, immediately regretting it. What if she took it as an insult? Luckily, Belle giggled.

“It is. We’d come to hate each other within a week.”

He was surprised by how much the thought of not being friends with Belle anymore hurt him. He’d started out hating her, being scared of her, and yet after talking to her just a handful of times his feelings had completely changed. Belle had a way of making him feel at ease that very few people possessed, and the fact that he was smiling so shortly after meeting Milah was proof of that.

“I’m sorry. For all the things Milah said to you, I mean. She really shouldn’t have done that;” he said, feeling the need to make up for his ex-wife’s behavior.

“Yes, she was… harsh. Is she always like this, or did I strike a nerve?”

What she’d really wanted to ask was ‘Is she always like this with you?’, because Belle couldn’t truly believe that her presence could make someone turn so viciously against their former husband. That question, however, would have been too direct and would have looked like prying.

“You didn’t do anything, at least not intentionally. I think you’re dealing with Gideon wonderfully, but she refuses to see past her wounded ego. She was always extremely… fierce, but I think I bring out the worst in her. I’m sorry you had to witness that.”

“There’s nothing to apologize for. You did nothing to deserve such treatment: she is in the wrong.”

He smiled a bit sadly at her, like he appreciated her words but didn’t truly believe them. Their teas arrived in that moment, distracting them for a moment and giving Belle a chance to change the subject.

“You know, this is incredibly awkward to admit, but I’ve just realized I don’t know your first name. Maybe Gideon told me at first and then I forgot, I’m not sure, but he only calls you ‘dad’ and everyone else calls you ‘Mr. Gold’ and so it… it kind of slipped my mind.”

Under literally any other circumstance she would have died rather than admit this, but it was the only thing that had come to her mind that could distract him from his former wife.

“No apologies needed. I don’t really like my name, so I try to have it as little known as possible,” he explained.

“Could I maybe shorten it, or use a nickname? I feel strange calling you by surname.”

Milah had called him ‘Rum’, would he be offended if she used it?

“I’m not going to be weirded out if you keep calling me by surname, but if you prefer to use my name I guess ‘Rumple’ will do. Just don’t use it too much when we’re in Storybrooke and other people can hear us: I have a fearsome reputation to maintain.”

She raised a disbelieving eyebrow at that, and he smirked over the rim of his teacup.

“What, you don’t believe me?”

“I have a hard time imagining a town that keeps being scared of you after seeing how loving you are with your kids. I saw you trying to hold back your tears when Gideon started high school,” she remarked, taking a sip of her own tea.

“You’ll be surprised by how much people refuse to see once they’ve formed their opinion on someone. I’m not saying I’m lenient with late payments, but I’m not nearly as ruthless as I once was, yet my reputation stays unchanged. Still, I don’t want to endanger it more than necessary.”

“Fine, I’ll only use it in case of emergency, I promise,” she conceded in mock seriousness.

Her smile seemed to warm him more than the tea had, and there was a beat of silence as Gold mused over his next words.

“You know, I was thinking… Gideon’s birthday is coming in less than two months and your birthday is only two days later, so I was wondering if you’d like to come to Storybrooke for those days, and maybe stay a little longer than usual, so that you and Gideon can celebrate together. I know he’d love that, but I haven’t told him anything yet so that he doesn’t get his hopes up in case you can’t come…” he felt incredibly stupid asking her this, and he couldn’t quite tell why. He just wasn’t sure of who she was to him anymore, and how he should act around her. Were they co-parents? Acquaintances? Or were they becoming friends?

“I’d love to,” she replied, making him momentarily forget about his doubts. “I’ll have to make sure I can take those days off from work, but I don’t think there will be any problems.”

“Good. Do you want me to tell Gideon or do you want it to be a surprise?”

“No, tell him, it’s nice to have something to look forward to.”

She surely would be counting the hours until then.

“Thank you,” she added after a moment. “Really, thank you so much for everything you’ve done and you’re still doing for Gideon and me. You had every reason to be wary of me, but you listened to me and gave me a chance, and I’ll never be able to repay you for that.”

“You being there for Gideon and making him happy is payment enough,” he said immediately. “The only people you have to thank are Gideon and yourself: him because he’s the one who gave you a second chance, and you because you didn’t waste it. I merely supervised at first.”

Belle smiled gratefully at him, and their conversation flowed freely after that. Nearly an hour later, when Gold finally made it back to his car, the thought of Milah and her cruel words couldn’t have been more distant from their minds.

**********

The sky was thankfully clear when Belle drove into Storybrooke on the 9th of February, but there was snow piled up at the side of the streets, and the promise of more to come in the following days. She’d be staying in Storybrooke for a whole week, and she was beside herself with excitement. If fourteen years prior somebody had told her where she’d be now, she wouldn’t have believed it. She made a quick stop at Granny’s B&B to leave her suitcase and take a shower, then walked to Gold’s house. She had to be extra careful, because there were thin patches of ice on the sidewalk and she risked slipping more than once.

Gideon had been staring anxiously out of the window ever since Belle had texted to say that she was at the B&B. When he saw her, he screamed “SHE’S HERE” at the top of his lungs, and all but flung himself out of the house to go hug her.

“Don’t run!” Gold warned him as he hastened to follow him. “There’s ice on the ground…”

He had barely finished talking when he felt his good leg slip out from under him. All of his weight went on the bad one, already in pain from the cold, and a moment later he was falling hard on his backside, every bone in his body screaming in pain.

Belle and Gideon rushed to his side, their eyes wide with fear, talking over each other in their haste to ask him if he was okay.

“I’ve been better,” he replied gruffly. He reached for his cane, grimacing at the sight of his bruised hand, but when he tried to get back on his feet pain shot through his right leg, making him lose his balance again. It was only thanks to Gideon and Belle supporting him that he avoided a second fall. Sitting again on the cold ground was far from pleasant, but it was all he could do for now. He pulled the right leg of his pants up, and took a look at his prosthesis. The stupid thing seemed to be fine, but the point where his knee connected with it hurt like hell. It wasn’t unusual for it to hurt, but not to this level.

“Gid, could you go grab my crutches? I don’t think I can manage it with the cane,” he had to admit. He wanted to get back inside as soon as possible, both to change clothes and to avoid being seen like this by any passers-by, but he’d never liked using the crutches. He was especially bugged by the idea of letting Belle see him like this, hurt and unable to even stand on his feet. She was smiling worriedly at him, clearly trying not to stare at his prosthesis, and he appreciated her effort. The silence between them stretched awkwardly, and he was wondering if he should try to say something when his son reappeared.

“I called Whale. He’s at the hospital now, but his shift is about to end and he said he’ll be here in half an hour,” Gideon said, handing him the crutches.

Gold nodded, too focused on keeping his balance to speak. His bedroom was on the first floor, but there was no way he could manage the stairs now, so he settled himself in one of the guest bedrooms downstairs. Gideon brought him a change of clothes, while Belle made tea for everyone, and later insisted on disinfecting the cuts on his hands.

“I told you I can do it on my own,” he protested again as she took one of his hands in hers.

“I know, but it will be much easier and quicker if I do it,” she said, stubbornly refusing to let go of his hand even as the sting of the disinfectant made him squirm. “I know it hurts, but if you move it’s going to take even longer to finish.”

“Sorry. I’m just… not used to having someone do things for me,” he admitted after a moment, carefully weighing his words.

“Oh, I know the feeling, believe me. Do you want me to leave you alone? I just wanted to help, I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable or anything,” she made to move, but he gestured at her to stay.

“I’ll get used to it,” he said as an explanation. It was technically rude to say it that way, but Belle took it for the ‘thank you’ it actually was and smiled at him.

“We’ll both have to. As I said, I’m used to being alone too.”

“Thank you,” he said as she finished bandaging his hand. “For this, for your patience, for everything. You just got here and you have to take care of me. I really didn’t want your vacation to start like this.”

“Well, that’s one of the perks of getting used to having other people around: you don’t have to deal with problems alone anymore. I’m here to stay, and not only on the good days,” she concluded with a smile.

When she said it like this, it sounded almost easy. He was still processing her words when Gideon announced Whale’s arrival, relieving him of the embarrassment to come up with a reply that was at least one tenth as significative as Belle’s words had been.

All in all, Whale told him he’d been lucky. He hadn’t broken any bones nor suffered any serious damage, but his knee was inflamed and Whale recommended not to wear his prosthesis for the next few days if he didn’t want to make things worse. In Gold’s opinion, that was far from being lucky, but he seemed to be the only one in the house to think so. After Whale left, he found himself in a heated discussion with Belle and Gideon on whether or not he should hire someone to help him through the following days.

“I’m perfect capable of taking care of myself without help, case closed,” he snapped.

“I know, but what if you fall again? We have lots of things planned for the next few days, and there’s still snow outside. You can’t lock yourself up in the house, and I can’t pick you up if you’re too hurt to do it yourself. I’m just worried, that’s all,” his son replied stubbornly, his expression so similar to Belle’s that Gold nearly felt like laughing, despite how nervous he was.

“Rumple, I’m sure you know your limits, and I’m not trying to impose anything on you, but Gideon has a point, and I don’t want you to risk anything just because you want to do everything on your own,” Belle said, clearly trying to keep the discussion form escalating.

“Then trust me when I say I’m perfectly capable of managing my life without a stranger following me around and taking care of me as if I were a kid,” he replied drily.

“Well, if having a stranger around is the problem, we could ask Belle to stay here and help you,” Gideon suggested then.

“WHAT?” the exclamation of surprise came from both of them at the same time, and if they’d been a little less shocked they would have probably found that fact very funny.

“I just thought… we’ll be with Belle most of the time anyway, so why not? You two already know each other, so I think you wouldn’t be as snappy with her as you’d be with a stranger, and she would probably be less strict than a real nurse, so you wouldn’t feel like you’re being babysat. I thought it could be a nice compromise,” Gideon explained, staring at his father as if daring him to contradict him.

“Belle came here to spend time with you, not to be my nurse,” Gold replied patiently. “You can’t expect people to change their plans because it suits you.”

“I mean, it’s not like I would mind, I just… I’m not sure I’d know what to do, or if you’d even be comfortable with having me around all the time,” Belle interjected.

Gold turned to look at her, even more surprised than he’d been by Gideon’s words: he’d been so sure that she wouldn’t accept that he’d completely forgot to ask her what she thought of it. In a way, he’d made the same mistake Gideon had.

“I… I don’t want to bother you,” he repeated somewhat weakly.

“Well, you also said you don’t even need that much help. I’d be happy to help you if it makes Gideon feel safer, but I won’t insist if you don’t want me around all the time.”

“Fine,” he conceded at last. “I’d much rather have you around than a stranger.”

“She can take the spare bedroom upstairs!” Gideon exclaimed, beside himself with excitement. “This is going to be an awesome week!”

“No one has ever been so happy about me getting hurt,” Gold chuckled after sending Gideon to prepare Belle’s room.

“Can you imagine his outrage if I had been the one to get hurt and you hadn’t agreed to let me stay here right away? I can almost see it.”

“We should suggest he joins a theatre group or something, he does have a penchant for drama.”

Belle agreed, and they traded silly quips for a little while before Belle went back to collect her bags from Granny’s. As she settled into her room, she couldn’t help but think that Gideon was right: this was going to be one awesome week.

**********

As expected, more snow fell during the following three days, and that forced Gideon to change plans for his birthday. He had been planning to spend most of the day out with his two best friends and celebrate at dinner with Belle, Gold and Neal (who had arrived from Boston the day after Belle), but the prohibitive weather forced him to spend the day indoors, with his friends just barely managing to get to his house without freezing their noses off. Neal seemed to find it hilarious that one of Gideon’s friends was also named Neal, and spent the entire day making jokes about that. Everyone seemed to find it funny, except maybe Gideon, who seemed strangely tense at times. Robin and Neal ended up staying for dinner as well, so that they were all together when Gideon finally got to open his presents. Everyone’s gift seemed to be just perfect for him, and Belle felt her nervousness rise as she handed him hers. She had gotten to know him so much during the past few months, but she knew she still had so much to learn. What if her present was the only one he didn’t like?

“I wonder what it could possibly be,” Gideon joked as he started unwrapping what was clearly a book. “Her Handsome Hero? I’ve never heard of this one!”

He seemed happy enough about it, and Belle breathed a sigh of relief.

“It’s a retelling of a fairytale I used to love as a kid. I thought that since you like fantasy you might like it,” she explained.

“Thanks, I’m sure I’ll love it.”

She’d wondered if she was considering her own tastes rather than Gideon’s in buying the present, but she had wanted her first gift to him to be something meaningful and, all things considered, she was happy with her choice. Gideon and his friends played video games for a little while more before it was time for Robin and Neal to go. Belle drove them to their respective homes, and even if Storybrooke was small it took her a long time to get back home, because it had started snowing again and she had to proceed almost ridiculously slowly.

The first thing she noticed as she stepped inside, still shivering a bit from the cold, was a stream of muffled curses coming from the kitchen. A clear idea of what was happening immediately formed in her mind, and she strode towards the noise, not knowing if she should be more worried or angry.

“What exactly do you think you’re doing?” she whispered angrily at Gold, not wanting Gideon to hear them.

“What does it look like?” he bit back, but there was a hint of guilt in his eyes. He’d put his prosthesis back on, and was in the process of tidying up the kitchen. Everything about his demeanor screamed that he was in pain, yet he stood stubbornly to face her, trying to hide the way he had to lean on the sink.

“I could have done this! It’s what I’m here for!” she reminded him.

“No, you’re here to spend time with your son. You don’t have to waste your time being my caretaker.”

“For God’s sake, I thought we’d already talked about this!” Belle burst out, walking towards the crutches he’d abandoned in the corner. “Take that thing off before Gideon hears us and go to bed.”

“No.”

She was on the verge of screaming, but then she noticed something in his expression, something that went beyond simple stubbornness.

“Rumple, what’s wrong?” she asked, closing the distance between them, her voice turning softer. “You seemed to be doing fine, and now you do this. Did something happen? Did I do something?”

He looked around, as if searching for an excuse to avoid the conversation.

“It’s not easy to explain,” he muttered eventually.

“Well, I have time and patience, so try as much as you want,” she replied sitting down on a chair, and gesturing at him to do the same. He limped towards the table and let out a sigh of relief as he sat down heavily in front of her.

“Just for the record, where are Neal and Gideon? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable by having you open up when your kids could walk in at any moment.”

“I told Neal to go upstairs and make sure Gideon doesn’t stay up all night reading. Not that it works, but they generally start talking and end up falling asleep in the same bed at some time past two am. Their faces tomorrow morning are going to be hilarious.”

No matter how upset Gold was, talking about his children always lightened his mood, and once again that sight made Belle smile.

“Good. So, can you tell me now what’s going on?” Belle tried again, laying one hand over Gold’s in what she hoped was a comforting gesture.

“I just… I don’t see how it’s fair that you should do all the work when you’re the guest. I should do better,” he said, not quite looking at her.

“But you’re hurt!”

“And that’s my fault! I should have been more careful, and you shouldn’t have to pay for my mistake,” he insisted, and Belle suddenly had the feeling that he wasn’t really talking to her. Of course, he was saying those words to her, but this wasn’t the first time he’d said them, and she wasn’t the one who made him feel like this.

“Does it have something to do with Milah?” she asked, and it shocked him so much that he actually looked at her for the first time since the discussion started.

“What?”

“Did she make you feel like your disability was your fault?” she insisted, and from the way he looked at her, she had truly gotten to the heart of the problem.

“She never called me disabled” he murmured after a while. “Useless cripple was the most common expression. Or something along the lines.”

“That’s horrible.”

She’d heard Milah say something about his leg and his illness during their discussion after Christmas, but without context it had been just one amongst the many insults she’d thrown at him.

“She… she didn’t like it when I got sick. She was pregnant with Neal when I was diagnosed with bone cancer. With a baby on the way she couldn’t deal with my sickness as well, especially when it lead to the amputation I tried my best to help her as much as I could, but there wasn’t much I could do at first, and the sickness caused by the chemo didn’t help. I thought I could fix things once I had healed, but then we found out that the treatment had left me sterile. I think that was the real end of her feelings for me, even though it took me a lot longer to realize it.”

“What happened after that?” Belle asked softly. She didn’t want to pry, but she could feel he needed to talk about this.

“Once I was sure my cancer wasn’t coming back, I talked Milah into adopting. My inability to have any more children had upset both of us, and I was sure that adopting was the solution. We could be happy again, Neal would have a much wanted sibling, and a kid would get a loving home. I thought it was a win-win scenario.”

He’d been so enamored with the idea of having another child that he’d projected that wish onto his wife. Now he realized that Milah had been upset mostly because she saw his sterility as another failing on his part, not because she was desperate to have more kids.

“And I suppose that’s when Gideon came into your lives,” Belle prompted him, trying and failing not to imagine a younger Gold holding a newborn Gideon. It was an image that hurt her in more ways than she could count.

“Yes. I loved him from the moment I saw him. After all I had been through, I was finally back to health and with not one, but two little kids to spoil rotten. Being with them was like heaven.”

He paused for a moment, fidgeting as he looked for the right words and the courage to carry on with the story.

“Milah, however, wasn’t as happy as I’d hoped. She’d never been overly maternal with Neal, but I never had any doubt that she loved him. With Gideon, however, I started to wonder. I mean, I think she loved him, that she still does, but… she just can’t see him as equal to Neal.”

He’d whispered the last words so quietly that, despite being so close, Belle had to lean towards him to understand them.

“I think he knows. I don’t know when he started to realize it, but he’s a clever kid, he was bound to notice it someday.”

Belle was biting her lower lip, not sure what to say. She was angry at Milah, but was she in any position to judge her?

“Despite all of this, I couldn’t bring myself to end things with her. We were almost completely avoiding each other by that point, and I’m pretty sure she had more than one affair through the years, but I didn’t want to upset my children with a divorce. I thought I’d just hold on until they were old enough to deal with it, but Milah beat me to it. Four years ago I woke up and she was simply gone. She left a note saying that she was leaving, but she didn’t leave an address, and she wouldn’t answer my calls. After a day or two she texted Neal to tell him she was sorry and that she would soon file for divorce and a custody agreement, and only when her lawyer contacted me I found out she was in Boston with her most recent lover.”

“Listen,” Belle said once his tale was over. “I can only imagine how much all of this must have hurt, how much it still hurts. All I know is that I’m not her. I’m not going to walk away when you’re sick, or if you make a mistake, or you fail to meet some stupid standard. I’m with you, and not just because you’re Gideon’s father, but because we’re friends.”

For a moment, she’d been on the verge of saying ‘family’, but she didn’t think either of them was ready for that. ‘Friends’ was a much safer option.

“No matter what happens, I’m not going away,” she reassured him again.

“No one,” he said, taking a shaky breath, “No one has ever said that to me. Least of all my wife.”

He looked on the verge of tears, and it came so naturally to Belle to wrap her arms around him, offering the comfort he so clearly needed. He all but sank into her hug, breathing heavily against her shoulder, clearly fighting back tears. They stood like that for a while, with one of her hands gently petting his hair, calming him, and despite their closeness and the silence the situation didn’t grow awkward. When he eventually pulled back, he looked more in control of himself. He opened his mouth to talk, but Belle stopped him before he could utter a single word.

“If you’re going to apologize, please don’t.”

He closed his mouth then, looking both annoyed and amused by how well she could read him.

“Just take the prosthesis off and go to bed. I can bring you your painkillers if you want.”

“Yes, I think I’m going to need them,” he conceded, reaching for the crutches.

Having to use the crutches didn’t stop him from doing most things, but it significantly slowed him down, so several minutes passed before he was finally ready to get into bed. He was waiting for his painkillers to kick in when he heard Belle leaving the kitchen and heading upstairs.

“Goodnight,” he said as she passed his door.

“I wasn’t expecting you to be still awake. Did I make too much noise?” she asked, still on the other side of the closed door.

“No, I just can’t sleep right now.” There was no need to tell her he was in fact in pain.

“May I come in?” she asked, surprising him.

“Yes, of course. Is everything okay?” he said as she stepped inside.

“Yes, I just… I wanted to talk to you about something, but if it’s too late we can wait until tomorrow. It’s nothing urgent.”

“As I said, I’m not sleepy. We have time to talk right now,” he said, gesturing at her to come closer. She sat on the edge of the bed, looking just a tad nervous.

“Did you notice something strange about Gideon today?”

The question immediately sent his brain into panic mode, but he couldn’t recall anything that had caught his attention.

“No, he seemed like his usual self,” he replied carefully.

“Maybe he was. I just thought he looked a bit tense, so I kept an eye on him, and… I think he might have a crush,” she concluded.

“On Robin?” It was something he really hadn’t seen coming, but it was hardly something worth worrying over.

“On Neal.”

There was a beat of silence after Belle’s reply, and she worried her lower lip with her teeth as she waited to see Gold’s reaction. She didn’t think he was the kind of man who would be upset by the idea of having a gay son, but one could never be sure. Right as she was about to ask him to speak, for God’s sake, he did something that completely shocked her: he laughed.

“What?” she asked once his laughter died down, not sure of what exactly was going on.

“I’m sorry, it’s just that… life apparently has a strange sense of humor.”

“I’m still not following you.”

“You’re right,” he sighed, gathering up his courage, “Apparently tonight is a night of confessions, and please know that I can count on my fingers the number of people who know what I’m about to say to you. I’m bisexual.”

Of all the things Belle had been expecting, this wasn’t one of them.

“The day I told my father this, he dropped me at my aunts’ house and never came back. I mean, it’s not like he was fond of me before: Rumplestiltskin is not a name you give to a kid you love, after all, but after that even keeping a roof over my head became too much. It wasn’t easy for me to accept my sexuality after that.” He looked up at her then, his eyes full of both pain and love. “I’m just glad I can give my son the support I never had.”

For the second time that night, Belle could do nothing but hug him. He’d been through so much, and despite what he wanted people to believe, he had stayed a kind man through it all. She held onto him tight, never wanting to let go.

“You’re the best father I could have hoped for, for Gideon,” she said as she reluctantly pulled back. She wanted to say so much more, that he meant so much more to her, but she couldn’t bring herself to. Instead she got up from the bed, wished him goodnight, and scurried back to her room.

She closed the door, leaning heavily against it, and cursed herself and her furiously beating heart. She had caught feelings for her son’s father. Under normal circumstances, that would have been the normal thing, but this… this was a mess. She felt like crying and laughing at the same time. She wanted to cry because this was never going to work, and she wanted to laugh because it had been so long since she’d felt like this, since she’d trusted and respected and cared for someone so much. She got into bed, but couldn’t sleep for a long time. She kept thinking about Gold’s eyes, This week was either going to be the best of her life, or it was going to be the death of her.

**********

Two days later it was Belle’s turn to celebrate. She usually didn’t do much on her birthday, and getting to spend the day with her son and his family was already more than she’d ever expected, but Gideon went out of his way to celebrate for her. Someone (she suspected Gold, under Gideon’s direction) had hung streamers in the living room during the night, and during breakfast she learned that they’d made a reservation in Storybrooke’s nicest restaurant for lunch. The thing Gideon was clearly waiting for the most, however, was the moment when they got back home, when he deemed it was finally time to give her her present.

“I won’t ask if you like it because I know you will!” He exclaimed proudly as he handed her a box. She opened it, and she was surprised to find a stack of papers. She was confused at first, but as she focused on what was written on those papers her confusion turned to shock.

“It says here that I’m… the new Storybrooke librarian? What?” she asked, thinking it must be some kind of prank.

“I told you my dad could have it reopened whenever he wanted! Now you can have the job of your dreams and move to Storybrooke, and we can be together whenever we want!” Gideon exclaimed, still oblivious to her growing discomfort.

“Gid, listen,” she started off, not really knowing how to put it nicely. “This is incredible and thoughtful and it was kind of you to do this… but you should have asked me first.”

“You didn’t ask her?” Gold exclaimed, turning to stare at his son. “You told me you knew she was okay with this!”

“Well, she said she wanted to be a librarian! And I couldn’t directly ask her without ruining the surprise!” Gideon replied angrily, not understanding why he was being scolded for his great present.

“Then you shouldn’t have done this!” his father insisted. “You could have given her any other present, and then you could have talked about the library first. You shouldn’t have assumed she’d be okay with this.”

“Why are you two angry? I just wanted all of us to be together! Don’t you want to spend more time with me?” he asked Belle, looking at her with angry tears in his eyes. It was the first time she saw him angry at her, and it made her stomach churn. Still, she needed him to understand why she was just as upset as him.

“Of course I do, Gid, but you can’t make decisions for me. Or for anyone else, for that matter. What you’re asking me to do is a really big change, and that’s not something I want to do without thinking about it first,” Belle tried to explain, but she could see that Gideon wasn’t truly listening to her reasons.

“You’re a liar! You just don’t want to see me!” he screamed, then ran upstairs.

“I’ll talk to him,” Neal said as he ran after his bother, leaving Belle and Gold alone with the weight of what had just happened. It was the first time Belle had argued with her son, and while she knew it was bound to happen sooner or later she still felt sick.

“I’d like to say that it’s something you get used to, but it’s not true. It always hurts when they’re angry at you,” Gold told her honestly, sitting beside her on the couch. “I’m really sorry. I wouldn’t have let him go through with it had I known.”

“I’m sorry too. I know I probably overreacted. I mean, there’s nothing truly keeping me in Boston. Yes, I have friends there, but Gideon is more important right now, and I did always want to be a librarian. I just… I don’t react well when I feel people are trying to make decisions for me.” She’d had enough of that for a lifetime.

“We all have our weak spots. Yours is being forced into things, Gideon’s is not feeling that he’s important to the people he cares about. Neal is really good at calming him down, though, I’m sure you two will be on good terms again before dinner,” he reassured her, and he was right. By the time she’d made and drank some tea, Neal had come downstairs to tell her she could go talk to Gideon if she wanted.

It was easy to apologize to her son, but it was much harder to explain why she had reacted the way she had. At long last, she had to tell him something about his biological father and her own, and how they had both forced or tried to force her into a life she didn’t want. It was a painful tale for both of them, but they hugged at the end, and Gideon apologized as well. He called her ‘mom’ then, and it was at that moment she truly started crying. Despite the tears and the fight, that was the best birthday she’d ever had.

Now that she didn’t feel like she was being pressured into things, she had to admit that the possibility of becoming Storybrooke’s librarian was amazing. She still wanted to think it over once she was back in Boston and not so emotional, but she doubted she’d find many reasons not to accept the offer. Surprisingly, her birthday had yet more emotions in store for her: the morning after, in fact, Gold gave her another gift, one that from the shape she initially mistook as a book.

“I wanted to give it to you yesterday, but then I thought you already had enough to deal with in one day,” he said as she started unwrapping the paper. He had been right in his consideration, because the moment she realized what it was a sob tore itself from her throat.

It was a photo album, and it was filled with pictures of Gideon, at all ages. From when he was just a newborn, so small that he was barely visible under his baby blanket, to his happy toothless smile when he was seven, to the last birthday he’d celebrated without her. It was all the life she hadn’t been there for, and that Gold was now sharing with her.

“I picked the nicest, but there are more if you want. I just couldn’t fit them all in one album,” he explained as she turned the pages in awe.

“I have one more,” she said, her voice hoarse with unshed tears. “From before this summer, I mean. When I was in the hospital I… I asked a nurse to take a picture of me with him before handing him over to social services. He was just minutes old. I… I can give you a copy if you want.”

She looked so fragile yet so strong, with her eyes full of tears as she offered to share with him a photo taken in such a painful moment, and he wanted to kiss her so badly that for a moment he had the impression that her gaze was lingering on his lips, as if she wanted to kiss him too. It was nonsense, of course, but it was such a tempting thought that he was relieved when she hugged him, because it hid her beautiful face from his view, giving him a moment to collect himself. If she really moved to Storybrooke, she was going to be the death of him.

**********

Belle officially moved to the apartment above Storybrooke’s library at the end of March, and spent the entire month of April preparing for the library’s reopening, with Gideon helping her as often as he could, until one day she had to remind him that he was supposed to spend at least some of his afternoons studying if he ever wanted to become a librarian himself. He officially started dating Neal in May, and soon enough their lives settled into a new, pleasant rhythm that Belle could hardly believe was real. When one day Neal announced that he was coming over to dinner with Emma - Storybrooke’s deputy sheriff - it was like yet another piece of their family had finally found its place.

“They’ve been in love since high school,” Gideon told Belle as they set the table, waiting for his brother and the woman Belle supposed would finally be presented as his girlfriend. “They broke up when school ended and he moved to Boston, but they were never truly over each other. At least Neal wasn’t. I’m so glad they’re finally together again because he’s insufferable when he’s lovesick. The first time they argued he wrote her a song and he kept practicing it for days and it was terrible.”

With Storybrooke being so small, Belle had met Emma several times already, and it didn’t take her long after her arrival to notice that both she and Neal were behaving strangely. She didn’t want to ruin dinner by asking, but her curiosity was soon satisfied when, before taking even the first bite, Neal said he had an announcement to make.

“Don’t tell me you’re getting married already!” Gideon joked, but Neal hardly smiled, which was incredibly unlike him.

“Well, we are kinda speeding things up,” Emma admitted.

“Oh my God,” Gold whispered, putting two and two together and realizing what Neal was about to say.

“What I’m trying to say is… dad, I’m pregnant,” Neal said, and it took him a moment to realize what he’d said in his agitation. “I mean, she is pregnant, of course. And no, this was not planned, and we’re not even actually dating, and I still have art school to finish, but we’re keeping it.”

Gold recovered surprisingly well from the shock, but spent the rest of the evening torn between feeling giddy at the idea of becoming a grandpa and wanting to strangle his son for being so incautious. It was a very awkward family dinner overall, and Belle really wasn’t sad when it was over. Despite her best attempts, the talk about babies and unexpected pregnancies had reawakened all sorts of bad memories for her, and had made her feel under the spotlight, a glaring bad example that everyone was too kind to point out. When Gold insisted on driving her back home, she felt a moment of pure panic and briefly wondered if he was going to blame her for being a bad influence on Neal. It was an absurd thought, of course, but she couldn’t help herself.

“How are you feeling?” he asked her instead as soon as they were in the car.

“I’m fine,” she lied. “Why?”

“Because I saw you fidgeting at dinner, and I know what it means. No one is making comparisons between you and Emma, believe me.”

“But they’re keeping the baby while I…” she started off, but Gold immediately interrupted her.

“You were seventeen, they’re twenty one. I doubt you were out of high school, while Emma has a full-time job and Neal a part-time one. It’s not the same,” he insisted.

“I wanted to keep him. I wanted to be his mother and be there for his first steps, his first words, his first everything. I let him go and he found you and I’m glad, but I still let him go not knowing what would become of him,” she sobbed. No matter how much time passed, or however many days she spent with her son or how much she thought she’d healed, having abandoned him was a wound that would never stop bleeding.

“Hey, hey, It’s alright, I’m here,” he whispered against her ear as he wrapped his arms around her. Only in that moment she realized that the car was no longer moving. “It wasn’t your fault. You told me so yourself. You wanted him, but were forced to let him go. It wasn’t your fault.”

“You don’t know… you weren’t there… I should have been stronger,” she hiccuped. Her sin was too big to be simply excused away.

“Then why don’t you tell me? Tell me what happened and I’ll honestly tell you if it was your fault,” he suggested.

“I… I need some tea first. Are we at my place yet? I can make some and then I can tell you,” she said, sniffling.

“Yes, lead the way,” he said as he got out of the car.

In the end, he was the one to make the tea because her hands were trembling and he didn’t deem it safe to let her handle boiling water. Once they were both sitting on the couch with a warm cup in their hands, she started talking.

“My mother got sick when I was 13. Breast cancer. She was still so young that she didn’t think she needed regular check ups, and when she found out it was too late. We tried everything we could, but she died just two years later.”

The worst part hadn’t just been her dying. It had been watching her fade day after day, her condition always worsening despite all the treatment she was getting. She wasn’t sure when exactly Belle had realized her mother wasn’t going to make it, but waking up every day with that knowledge had completely crushed both her and her dad.

“My father didn’t know how to deal with it. The worse my mother got, the worse he started to behave. Not in front of her, never in front of her, but when she was at the hospital and we were home alone he ignored me, or was straight out mean sometimes. He started drinking, and when I lost her, I lost him too. It was like he didn’t care about anything anymore, not even me. I think he hated everything that reminded him of her, including me. One day I got back home and found him putting all of our stuff in boxes. He told me we were moving to the States. I barely had the time to say goodbye to my friends before he dragged me an ocean away.”

Gold listened, dumbfounded. He could barely imagine the kind of trauma and pain she’d gone though at that time.

“When we got to Augusta I stuck out like a sore thumb. I moved into a new high school halfway through the school year, so I was the only one struggling to adapt to a new place, and I was too lost in my grief to go out of my way and make friends. I was alone most of the time. There was one boy, though, who never stopped trying to get a date out of me. I turned him down at first, because I felt too sad to date anyone, but eventually I told myself I had to move on, and gave him a chance. Soon enough he was the only one I talked to, the only person in my life beside my dad. When he started pressuring me into having unprotected sex, I was too afraid he’d dump me to tell him no. I didn’t want to be alone again. I knew it was risky, but I didn’t fully realize it until my period skipped. I panicked and told him, and he dumped me, saying he wasn’t even sure it was his kid after all. I don’t think he believed that, I think he just wanted to hurt me. A couple of days later, the whole school knew I was pregnant. He had told everyone about it, while adding a bunch of lies to the mix, all to humiliate me.”

People had stared and pointed at her, at the weird outsider who got herself knocked up, calling her stupid and a slut. Every time she didn’t think things could get any worse, they immediately did.

“I think my father was the only one who didn’t know. I tried to keep it hidden from him for as long as I could, because I was afraid he’d make me have an abortion, and I didn’t want to. I thought that if I could just hold on until the baby had grown enough, he wouldn’t be able to force me to get rid of it.”

“What happened when he found out?” he asked, fearing her answer.

“He lost his mind. He screamed and shouted and for the first time I was even worried he’d hit me. He told me I was a disgrace, that he was ashamed to have me as a daughter, and that since it was too late to get rid of it I’d have to give my child up for adoption if I wanted to keep living under his roof,” Belle said, her lower lip trembling with the effort of holding back the tears.

“I didn’t know where to go. I had no friends, no other family members in town that could help me, and I wasn’t even out of high school yet. If he’d kicked me out of the house… I would have been homeless, without a job and with a newborn. What hope did I have? How long would it take before social services took Gideon from me? I knew that the younger the kid, the higher the chances of it being adopted, so I decided… I decided that giving him up straight away would be better. It would give him a better chance of finding a home, and it would spare me the pain of having him taken away when he was older. I never… I never would have wanted to…” she couldn’t continue anymore, her voice broken by sobs, and suddenly Gold’s arms were once again around her.

“You were barely more than a child. You were alone and you were so brave. It wasn’t your fault,” he said as he held her, repeating it over and over again. She pulled back to look up at him, her eyes red and swollen from crying, and the tenderness she saw in his eyes made her heart ache. Gold had given her something she’d long forgotten. He’d given her a family, something to care for and that cared for her in return. He’d given her a home and a sense of belonging, and maybe it was because she was already too emotional from crying so much, but she couldn’t hold back any longer: she leaned forward and pressed her lips against his. He froze, and Belle felt her panic rise. She’d screwed everything up.

“Belle… what are you doing?” he asked, taking her face in his hands as he pulled back ever so slightly.

“I love you. I know it’s crazy and I know it only complicates things, but I do. I have for months. I know you probably don’t feel the same way, but I had to tell you.”

Gold was silent for what felt like an eternity, staring at her as if he couldn’t believe his ears.

“Then,” he said eventually. “Kiss me again.”

Without waiting for her shocked brain to process his words, he closed the distance between them, pressing his mouth against hers in a kiss that was nothing like their first. It was loving and passionate and made her toes curl. When they finally broke apart, he rested his forehead against hers.

“I love you too.”

#Rumbelle #Rumbelle Big Bang #desperatemurph #Rumbelle fic #Gideon Gold #Chipped Beauty #Chipped Gold #Sara talks #Sara writes

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caranfindel · 6 years

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Recap/review 14.13: “Lebanon”

THEN: They hit me right in the face with gorgeous young 1.01 Dean saying "Dad's on a hunting trip and he hasn't been home in a few days" and beautiful baby 1.01 Sam saying "we've got work to do" and we end with 14.12 and Sam furiously punching his brother and then furiously hugging him and Dean saying "let's go home" and does anything else matter? No.

NOW: We see the reflection of Sam and Dean walking up to a pawn shop, with a nice selection of guitars and sunglasses and that weird monkey that was in Rocky's Bar. The proprietor seems friendly enough. Dean flashes him a wad of hundred dollar bills because they're looking for "the really good stuff." This gains them admittance into a secret back room full of things hunters would be interested in, including a hockey mask (?) and a perfume atomizer full of dragon's breath. They tell the guy they're looking for the skull of a specific woman who was executed during the Salem witch trials, and the fact that he has it basically proves that he killed the friend of theirs who previously owned it. (Also Sam picks up a teddy bear and starts to pull the string to make it speak and the guys warns him not to and this is Dean's role, isn't it, messing with things he shouldn't be messing with? But I don't care because chastized Sam and eye-rolly Dean are precious to me.)

Sam goes through a ledger of the guy's inventory and says he's got a lot of occult objects that they should take with them. (Dean plays with the dragon's breath. Sam ducks and flinches and does the really, Dean? thing with his hands and face. I laugh again.) Dean agrees they should take the stuff home.

Title card!

The Impala zooms past a sign welcoming us to Lebanon, Geographical Center of the USA. Then we find ourselves in front of a movie theater showing Beetlejuice and Hell Hazers (All Saints' Day is coming soon, and I imagine Route 666 can't be far behind), where a group of teenagers is talking about... somebody. "People say they're brothers," a kid in a knit cap says, "but all I know is, I was standing right here, and I heard this bam from the trunk of their car. And then, this like, shallow breathing." I'm pretty sure this is a fake-out, and it will turn out he's talking about someone else, but the Impala pulls up in front of the theater and Knit Cap Kid says "that's them!"

As the Winchesters get out of the car and enter a liquor store (decorated with that Family Business neon sign from Rocky's), Sam is still reading the ledger, which lists things like a hangman's rope, fairy dust, and John Wayne Gacy's cigar box. Well, that's oddly specific! The guy working there greets the "Campbell brothers" and knows their usual order. Oh, wow. I love that they're actually known in Lebanon, and that they're going by Campbell. And we know that actual Lebanon, Kansas is too small to have a movie theater or this much business downtown, but I'm happy to handwave that.

What do you mean, "happy to handwave that?" You're always complaining about the inaccuracies regarding tiny Lebanon having traffic cams and whatnot.

Well, maybe this episode just MAKES ME HAPPY, okay?

Anyway. Sam thinks cataloguing the confiscated items would be a good way to take Dean's mind off "things," but Dean's pretty convinced nothing will ever take his mind off that.

Outside, the teens are asking where the guys even come from, and what about their weird trenchcoat-wearing sidekick, and "that kid with the dumb Bambi look on his face all the time" (!) One girl says that, whatever the deal is with these guys, they do have an awesome car, and no one can argue with that. And the other girl, Max, who seems to smitten with the first girl, gets an idea.

Inside, Sam has discovered something significant in the ledger - the "beyzoo" (no, I know that's not how you spell it), which is one of eight ancient Chinese treasures. A pearl that gives you "what your heart desires." Oooh, getting rid of Michael, maybe? But as the guys are discussing this, Dean sees the Impala drive by the window. Guess Max figured out how to impress that other girl! (BTW, there are couple of COOL old trucks on the street.)

The guys see Knit Cap Kid standing on the sidewalk looking confused, and while Sam tells him the car is dangerous to whoever stole it, Dean looks like he wants to murder someone. And yet the Winchesters are confused when the kid says he doesn't want to die. (Or get locked in the trunk!) He says Max is new and he doesn't know where she lives. Dean raises a fist, but Sam pulls him away.

MURDER. I'D MURDER THEM.

Post office. There's a poster of stamps featuring old cars behind the customer service counter. I'm really getting my old truck fix tonight. Sam comes in with his sweet anxious smile and asks for help finding the girl who washed his car, since he forgot to tip her. Post Office Lady is not amused or helpful, or the least bit swayed by his sweet anxious smile. Then Dean comes in and calls her by name and asks about her grandson and she MELTS and he gets sincere and puts his hand on hers and she does exactly what I would do, which is offer up ANYTHING YOU WANT, ANYTHING AT ALL, WOULD YOU LIKE MY SOCIAL SECURITY NUMBER WHILE I'M AT IT? Unfortunately, all she knows is where Max's mother works.

SAM’S FACE.

(Sidebar: Have I mentioned that Sam is wearing that nice blue jacket from the episode where he killed the alpha vampire? I like it. Toss that stupid orange jacket, Sam, and wear this more often. And Dean's wearing the black jacket that I always love.)

At the restaurant where Max's mom works, we learn that she has no idea where her daughter is, because she was supposed to be in school. But the guy working in the kitchen knows February 7 is Skip Day (is it always February 7? what about when that falls on a weekend?) and that she'll probably be at a party at this old house on Route 36. (Yes, I did confirm that Route 36 is just outside of Lebanon. Yes, I did use Mapquest. I'm old school up in here, y'all.)

Party house. The little batch of delinquents has taken all the boxes of occult objects out of the Impala for some reason. Including the evil teddy bear. Luckily, someone announces "pizza's here" before a girl pulls the teddy bear's string. At some point I've got to find out what would happen if you pulled it. Fic it for me, friends! (Also, I just noticed the teddy bear's mouth is SEWN SHUT and that's not creepy AT ALL.) The camera slowly pans to a wooden box, and we watch the lid open to reveal a smoky/dusty ghost hand. With a ruffled sleeve. Uh oh.

Knit Cap Kid runs in to warn the partiers that "those guys" are looking for Max, and he's told to chill. Another teen goes into the bathroom, where the mirror frosts over and then the CREEPIEST CLOWN EVER comes out of it. Seriously, creepier than the clown in Plush, which you wouldn't think was possible.

The Winchesters pull up in yet another antique truck, where Dean greets his car with "Baby, Baby, please tell me you're not hurt." Sam's more concerned about the boxes of dangerous occult objects missing from the back seat. Ghost Kid comes running outside and the girl following him tells the brothers that he saw a clown ghost that tried to kill him. Maybe it's my imagination, or maybe Sam has a flash of crap, a killer clown ghost expression before they run into the house.

Dean announces they're FBI and everyone needs to get out, now. Once the room is cleared, he asks if "anything screams clown to you?" Sam immediately notices John Wayne Gacy's cigar box and guys, I'm ashamed to say I didn't put the two together until now. The killer clown ghost is John Wayne Gacy. And Sam is freaked the fuck out about it. "We should burn that right now," Dean says, in a lovely holding-in-the-freakout way, and Sam rushes to throw it into the fireplace. Then Dean says "I mean, this is like a best worst thing that's ever happened, because you love serial killers, but you hate clowns" and I'm DEAD. (I'm also loving TWO gifts from the Continuity Fairy in once sentence.) The lights start flashing before Sam can get his lighter lit, and then the killer clown ghost shows up and tosses Dean around. Knit Cap Kid and the girls run back inside just in time to watch John Wayne Gacy's ghost go up in flames. So the kids get the "monsters are real" speech and are told to keep it secret.

Back at the bunker, Sam's going through the occult goodies and thinks he found the magic pearl. Dean's ready to use it right now, and dismisses Sam's suggestion that they call Mary or Cas. If it doesn't work, he doesn't want to have gotten their hopes up. Sam looks distressed at the idea it won't work, but agrees. The pearl doesn't come with any instructions, so Sam suggests Dean hold it and concentrate on what his heart desires. "Michael out of my head," Dean says, and I'd have been more specific. I'd have concentrated on Michael out of my head and destroyed, and me perfectly fine, but, well, what do I know?

(Also, I KNOW all you Wincest and Destiel fans are gonna have your own ideas about what - or who - appears in front of Dean when he’s granted what his heart desires. This setup is better than sex pollen. Have fun, my kinky little friends.)

Dean clutches the pearl and concentrates, and the lights flash and then go out, and in the red emergency light we see someone in the bunker. Someone fighty, who knocks both brothers down and then pulls out a shotgun and says "don't you move," but it's a familiar voice and then the lights come on and what do you know? Winchester Surprise!

So, was anybody truly surprised? I covered the guest stars on first viewing, as I always try to do, but I noticed on rewatch that they didn't even credit JDM at the beginning of the episode. Which they sometimes do, to avoid spoilers. And yet. Has there been a single episode of this series that was more spoiled? I don't think so.

(Sidebar: What do you think would have happened if Sam had taken the pearl and made a wish? I think Michael would be gone. Because I don't think there's anything Sam wants more than saving his brother.)

Back to our story. Everyone is shocked. John thinks Sam should be in Palo Alto, apparently in his 14th year of post graduate work. He thinks he's still in 2003, and he doesn't notice his boys are older. And they apparently don't notice that his hair is very short and a lot greyer than it was when we last saw him. (I mean, really, they slapped a wig on Samantha Smith to make her look like The Last Version Of Mary, so why couldn't they do the same thing with JDM? It's distracting.) Sam figures they must have accidentally summoned John from the past. So they do what one does in this situation - sit down and drink.

John's astonished. Dean's proud. Sam's visibly anxious. We don't get to see exactly how much of the backstory they tell him, but they do tell him about the apocalypse and Lucifer and living with "an angel and Lucifer's kid." And now John thinks he died "taking out Yellow Eyes," which... not really? But okay. And they don't tell him Mary's back, until he mentions her and Sam's, all, yeah, about Mom, and then she comes in and John hears her voice and tears up and dammit. This reunion is everything I didn't think I ever wanted. I mean, I've made no secret of the fact that I'm not a fan of John Winchester. He's a fascinating character and JDM does a great job with him, but he's such an awful father (don't bother arguing with me, you will not change my mind) that I can't really like him. And I'm not too impressed with resurrected Mary, either. But when these two come together... damn. It's good. It's very good. Well done, you two.

I love that the boys give them some privacy, because it's been over a decade since John saw them, but it's been even longer since he saw his dead wife, and this should really be a John and Mary reunion.

Out in the hall, Dean's gleeful and Sam's all, how the hell did this happen? Dean explains that he's wanted this since he was four years old (oh, my heart) but Sam warns that messing with time will not end well. I don't actually remember Sam being that concerned about the unintended consequences of time travel, but I'm sure there's a good reason he's bringing it up now. Dean doesn't care. Dean just wants one family dinner together (oh, my heart again, remembering his one last dinner with Mary).

Sam, sans Dean, runs into John in the library, because Mary's off making a shopping list and he decided he'd rather examine the bunker than be involved in that I guess? Okay. But then this happens.

I screwed up with you a lot, didn't I?

No, that's okay.

No, it's not. Sammy, tell me the truth.

I don't want to talk about that.

You didn't have a problem talking about it before you left.

Dad. For me, that fight, that was a lifetime ago. I don't even remember what I said. I mean, yeah, you know, you did some messed-up things. But I don't... I mean, when I think about you... and I think about you a lot... I don't think about our fights. I think about you... I think about you on the floor of that hospital, and I think about how I never got to say goodbye.

Sam. Son. I am so sorry.

I'm sorry too. But you did your best, Dad. You fought for us, and you loved us. And that's enough.

OH MY GOD. This is everything I ever wanted.

1. John admitting he was a crap parent to Sam.

2. Sam trying to sidestep that - because he's Sam Winchester and that's what he does - and John not letting him.

3. Sam finally calling him out instead of just saying nah, it's fine.

4. John calling him Sammy.

5. Sam pointing out that he didn't get a goodbye from John. (Did he ever find out that Dean got praise and an apology?)

6. John apologizing.

7. Sam forgiving him.

8. "And I think about you a lot."

9. The way Sam keeps having to stop talking and look away and make that little "hmmm" noise.

10. And the tears.

10b. The way Sam tears up even before The Talk, when he remembers them as kids trying to make Winchester Surprise.

11. The shaky voice.

12. And Sam's shirt.

13. And the way Sam's expression looks so much like his expression in Sacrifice, when he tells Dean that his confession was about how he let his brother down.

This, right here, is two minutes and 24 seconds of the best television I've ever seen. I don't care what else this episode does, this 2:24 is worth it. And yes, this is three weeks in a row that Jared Padalecki has ripped my heart out of my chest and STOMPED ON IT.

And I love it.

Meanwhile, Dean gets the shopping list from Mary. Sam finds him and tells him he's right, because Sam also just got everything he ever wanted, and then offers to go shopping with him. (Saaaaaaaaaaammmmmmmmm!!!!!!!)

When they get to town, the guys split up - Sam to the grocery store, Dean to the liquor store. Dean's surprised to see the liquor store guy, the one who remembered his "usual" earlier in the day, has no idea who he is. If Dean had ever seen "It's a Wonderful Life," he might say this is just like when George Bailey goes into Martini's Bar and isn't recognized. But apparently Dean Winchester, pop culture aficionado, has never seen that movie (no, I haven't gotten over that, and I never will) so he doesn't recognize a classic uh oh, we changed the course of history moment when he experiences it.

Meanwhile, Sam steps out of the grocery store and finds that neither Max nor the postal clerk recognize him. And then he sees a wanted poster in the post office window. Dean Winchester, wanted for assault, murder, and credit card fraud. Whoops! He trots to the car, where Dean is waiting, and tells him they have a problem. "Yeah, we do," says Dean. "Check this out."

He shows Sam his phone and it's a video of SAM IN GLASSES AND A BLACK TURTLENECK AND SLICKED BACK HAIR GIVING A TED TALK. HE RUNS A LAW FIRM AND LOVES KALE. IT IS THE SECOND MOST AMAZING THING I'VE SEEN TONIGHT.

HE'S STEVE JOBS.

So, those of you who were spoiled... did you know about this? Or did they actually keep THIS AMAZING THING under wraps?

Sam Jobs tells his audience that being your best leaves no time for hobbies or a family, and Sam has seen enough. He tells Dean about the wanted poster, and Dean says yes, of course he googled himself too ("a lot of beheadings," hee!!!) and wonders if there are alternate versions of them running around. Sam thinks it's a "temporal paradox," and time is self-correcting, changing to the new one. If they don't fix things, they'll become those alternate versions of themselves. "Well, I'm cool," Dean says, "but you're, ugh." Sam's less worried about them, and more worried about what else might have changed.

(Sidebar: You know, I could quibble about why bringing John forward in time has such a significant butterfly effect, but bringing Mary back, and their other time travel, and Henry's time travel, changed nothing. I absolutely could. But I choose not to, because SAM JOBS, Y'ALL. But okay, let's think about it. 2003 John would have disappeared while Sam was at Stanford. Dean wouldn't have gone to get Sam. Or Sam would have refused to go. Maybe the hurt on both sides was still too fresh. Maybe that's why Dean's hunting alone, and Sam's an internet-famous lawyer.)

What else has changed, you might ask? How about ZACHARIAH? That's right, my favorite angel is back. And with him is ORIGINAL FLAVOR CAS WITH HIS FLUFFY HAIR AND THINGS JUST KEEP GETTING BETTER AND BETTER. Zachariah calls him "Constantine" and Castiel says "I don't understand that reference" and THANK YOU BABY JESUS, I DON'T KNOW WHAT I DID TO DESERVE THIS, BUT THANK YOU. They enter Max's mom's restaurant and ask who's been messing with time. (Because she would know?) And if they don't start talking, he'll have Cas murder all of them. "My name is Castiel," he intones solemnly. "I'm an angel of the Lord." YES YOU ARE. He reveals himself like he did to Dean (no, not like that, jeez) with the shadow wings. Outside, the Winchesters see the bright light of an angelic reveal coming through the restaurant windows, and they know something's up.

They herd everyone out of the restaurant, and are shocked to see Cas and Zachariah. Zachariah is equally surprised to see them. He says they had big plans for the Winchesters, but then their father disappeared and... and he doesn't finish, so we'll never know why yoinking John out of 2003 changed any of that vessel stuff. (Handwave!) Cas, of course, doesn't know them, and when Zachariah orders him to kill them, he complies.

Dean pulls out an angel blade but is, of course, unwilling to actually kill Cas, so he starts hitting him with other things. And Cas, for whatever reason, doesn't just put a finger on his forehead and kill him dead. (Handwave!) Zachariah chokes Sam and asks him what they did, even though he can't talk because he's choking (handwave!) and Sam acts like he's trying to speak so Zachariah gets closer to hear him, and Sam stabs him with an angel blade. Cas continues fistfighting with both of them, and slams Sam head-first into a table a couple of times, leaving him spitting blood on the floor. Which Sam uses to paint an angel-banishing sigil while Cas is choking Dean. Smart Sam for the win!

Bunker. Pretty bruised Dean has explained the temporal paradox, and John accepts that he has to go back, or else Mary will probably disappear. "Okay," he says. "I mean, me versus your mom, that's not even a choice." DAMMIT JOHN WINCHESTER DO NOT MAKE ME CARE ABOUT YOU. Elsewhere, pretty bruised Sam explains it to Mary, and tells her John won't remember anything.

John tells Dean he never meant Dean to have this kind of life. He's proud of him, but he hoped he'd be able to have a normal life, with a family. "I have a family," Dean says. They sit down and have one final family meal together, and everyone's quiet and sad until John points out that they can either think about what's going to happen, or appreciate what they have right now. They cheer up and listen to Bob Seger (well, we listen to Bob Seger) and talk and laugh and have the family dinner Dean has always wanted.

Later, while doing the dishes, Sam says how unfair it is that they all had this and then have to throw it away, and John has to go back to being Dad. He thinks it would be nice for John to go back knowing what he knows now. "I used to think that too," Dean says, and admits that he's blamed both John and Mary for their crappy lives. And if they could send him back to 2003, or even earlier, maybe none of the crap would happen. "But here's the problem. Who does that make us? Would we be better off? Maybe. But I gotta be honest, I don't know who that Dean Winchester is. And I'm good with who I am. I'm good with who you are."

Later. Mary and John are holding hands, and I guess they're doing the thing now. I'd hoped they'd at least let these two have one last roll in the hay (especially since I'm pretty sure Mobby is permanently done after this), but no. They have a very sweet goodbye and their sons are brokenhearted and I am too. John tells his boys to take care of each other and Sam says "we always do." That's a nice change from telling Dean to take care of Sam, isn't it? He tells them both (BOTH) that he's proud of them and loves them, and they have a three-way hug and Sam wipes his eyes and Dean says "love you too" and I REALLY CAN'T, BOYS, YOU HAVE TO STOP. Then John takes Mary's hand again and Sam crushes the pearl (why does Sam have to be the one to do it?) and John glows and then fades away.

We get a quick glimpse of downtown Lebanon returning to normal, and the three teens talking about how cool it is that "those guys hunt monsters," and then we're back to the bunker. Cas walks in the door and sees the remaining Winchesters, obviously distressed, and asks what happened. "Well, there's a story," says Dean.

And finally, we see the Impala WITH HER ORIGINAL KANSAS PLATE. John's asleep in the driver's seat when he gets a phone call from Dean. "No, I'm okay, I just had one hell of a dream. No, it was a good one."

GUYS. GUYS.

When I heard there was going to be a musical episode for the 200th, I was sure it would suck. When I heard about the Scooby Doo crossover, I cringed, because I knew it would be awful. WHY AM I ALWAYS SO WRONG.

Eh, who cares why. Let's just appreciate what we were given. Happy 300, my friends. Here's to 300 more.

(Please help me stay unspoiled for future episodes, thanks!)

#spn #recap #tv recaps #14.13 #things that make my heart hurt #sam winchester #dean winchester #john winchester #mary winchester

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