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kyber-queen · 4 years ago

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Like Real People Do (Rex x Reader) Pt. 3

Summary: Jedi!reader and Rex fall in love but are separated by the war. They meet again two years later, weeks before the Siege of Mandalore. In this chapter, Rex and Reader are prepping for a mission on an outer rim planet. Some fluff, slight angst, Rex gets to use a lightsaber because I say so. Italics signify a flashback in this fic.

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: Mentions of children/family planning ??, insecure Rex, k*sses, mentions of blasters n violence against droids, mentions of alcohol

Author’s Note: I’m not gonna lie this is probably my favorite chapter yet. It’s a little longer, but I think it’s worth it :) Likes and reblogs are very much appreciated!!

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After your less than satisfying encounter in the maintenance closet, you had made an early retirement to your quarters to sulk. You slept, but your dreams were ridden with visions of a certain bleach-blond captain. You awoke the next morning ill-rested and heartsick.

You showed up late to your first tactical meeting with the upper ranks of the 501st in a disgruntled mess of dark undereyes and wrinkled robes. If Rex noticed your sleep-deprived state, he made no mention of it. You had positioned yourself strategically in the back of the room, precisely so if you peeked between the admirals, you could clearly see Rex discussing troop formations with General Skywalker. His structured brow was furrowed, and you noted the way he gestured at the maps as he made his point. He was so much more confident now, so much more self-assured than that often-anxious shiny you remembered from training drills two years ago. Maybe that was why he gave you the cold shoulder yesterday—had he outgrown you? Two years was a long time, especially during a war. Did he find someone new? Your heart burned at the thought. You hadn’t even tried to move on—at times, at your lowest points, you considered it, but you never gave up on him. You had broken your code for him. You had broken it every day since you met him, and yet here he was, the picture of cordial indifference. You were attached, deeply and painfully. Did he still care about you?

“Commander, I can hear your gears turning—any input?” Skywalker looked at you expectantly.

You eased your tired features into a placating smile. “Looks good to me, General,”.

“Perfect. Rex, you’ll go with the commander. I want you two waiting just outside the village. The Separatists should arrive within around two hours of landing. Comm me when you see the Separatist forces coming, and you guys cut down as many of the first wave as possible. I’ll circle around with the rest of the 501st and we’ll finish off the rest from behind. All clear?”

You nod in assent as Rex answers with a decisive, “Yes, sir,”.

***

Rex was going to have to have a conversation with his general after this. Your very first mission with the 501st, and Skywalker had paired you with Rex on a glorified stakeout of all things. Rex was pissed. He had decided as soon as he found out you would be consulting with the 501st that he would keep his distance. He knew it wasn’t your fault that you hadn’t seen each other in years—war makes love near impossible. He was more upset with himself for falling for a Jedi. It was against the law for either of you to have an attachment to each other. Rex had fallen in love, and it was a stupid, shitty idea. He had spent the better part of two years trying to bury his memories of you, and just as he was beginning to succeed, here you were creeping back into his mind. Just the sight of you threw him back to two years ago—back when he was really, truly happy. Rex was built for war, nothing more. The problem with you was that being with you made him think otherwise. When you were together, you would always talk about ‘after the war’. Rex knew that as a clone, there really wouldn’t be an after. You, with your altruism and soft smiles and gentle touches were everything Rex didn’t need.

Rex walked to the pod that would take the pair of you to the Separatist-threatened planet. You were already seated. You thumbed the grip of your lightsaber, and Rex recognized the gesture—it was a habit whenever you were nervous. His eyes were locked on you, debating whether or not he should say something despite his earlier promise to not get involved. You broke the silence for him.

“I can feel you staring, Rex. Talk to me,”.

You could always tell what he was thinking. As your friendship first blossomed, it unnerved him, but as your paths intertwined more and more he found it a comfort to have you understand him so well without him even saying a word. Rex met your eyes, and his stomach clenched. You were still so beautiful. He looked away

“Just thinking about the campaign, sir,”.

Your heart ached. Every bone in your body was screaming, ‘I love you, I love you, I love you,” and yet he called you sir. He addressed you as a superior, another link in the chain of command. He really had moved on, hadn’t he? You bit your lip, the sharp pain of your teeth against the tender skin attempting to draw your attention away from your torturous thoughts. You had a mission to complete. You peeked out the porthole, and you saw the terrain approaching far faster than normal.

You landed with a crash. You were jostled from your seat, your head smacking the metal wall painfully. As the ringing in your skull crescendoed, you took stock of your darkened surroundings through your blurred vision. The lighting in the pod must have been damaged during your landing. You ignited your lightsaber, illuminating Rex with its soft glow. He stood up and rolled his shoulder experimentally, his nose scrunching in pain.

Your brows furrowed, “Are you alright?’

“I’m fine,” He grunted. He felt his way along the walls. “Exit’s been jammed shut, though,”

You searched his eyes in the dim lighting, another pang of longing reverberating through your chest. You dismissed the sensation and plunged your lightsaber into the wall of the pod, freeing yourselves. You emerged from the battered pod, your head pounding as your eyes adjusted. It was bright, with the triad suns beating down on you relentlessly. You checked your positioning system—you had landed a mere 15-minute walk from your stakeout site. You watched as Rex eased himself out of the pod. He groaned, his hand cradling his right arm. You handed him his positioning chip, and the two of you set off towards the village outskirts.

You noticed his hand lingered on his right shoulder, and he would grimace from time to time when it jostled. You reached your hand out to his plastoid-covered shoulder. “Rex, let me—”

“I’m fine,”.

His tone was sharp and dangerous, affecting you like a slap to the face. You sucked in a breath, and walked the rest of the path in silence. The planet was beautiful—you were surrounded on all sides by strange golden grasses that swayed with the breeze. Its beauty did nothing to distract you from the man by your side.

You arrived at the meeting point and immediately settled yourself against the large boulder meant as your cover. Rex sat across from you, leaning against a smaller rock. He tilted his head back, closing his eyes for a moment and swallowing thickly. You traced the sharp line of his jaw with your eyes, following down to the thick cords of muscle in his neck. You contemplated another attempt at offering him some bacta spray, but considering his earlier response, decided against it. When did Skywalker say the Separatists would arrive? Two hours?

You spent around an hour in silence. You meditated, as General Secura had taught you. Time moved thickly around you, your aura burning bright as it cut through the hours and seconds. With your deep focus came little flashes of memories.

You saw Rex, smiling. His golden skin was warm against the soft sheets. His thumb traced the apple of your cheek. You grinned.

“What do you want to do, Rex? After this is all over?”

He paused, his hand resting heavy on your jaw. “I don’t know, cyare. Guess I never really thought about it,”. His eyes flicked over your gentle smile and bright eyes. “I’d wanna be with you, though,” he whispered. You’re everything he could ever want. He’d never loved anything so much, and he knew he’d never love anyone else the way he loved you. What the hell did he do to deserve you? “What about you?”

“My parents—I barely remember them now—had a house on Naboo. We could live there, just us. No war, no fighting. It’s so beautiful there, Rex. The grass is long and tall—as a child, I’d play outside for hours just soaking up the sunlight. It’s a good place for raising children,”. Your face heated as you said the last part.

“Raising children, eh?” Rex tilted your chin, and you lifted your gaze to his eyes. You nodded slowly. “With me?” His eyes shone in the morning sunlight, his brow furrowed.

“Yes, Rex. Who else?” Rex’s expression eased, and you pressed your lips to each of his cheeks, followed by a gentle kiss to the tip of his nose. Rex sighed contentedly. He had no clue why you were with a shiny like him—he was one of a million genetically and physically identical men. He was sure that eventually you’d realize just how much better you could do than a clone, but until that day he’d savor every precious moment with you.

“You’re gonna be a great parent, one day, cyar’ika,”.

“You will, too, Rex,”.

You jolted out of your trance. It was just your luck that Rex had infiltrated the one escape you had from your relentless thoughts of him. You opened your eyes to find him studying your face. He averted his gaze quickly.

“Rex,” you called.

He fiddled with the straps of his armor.

“Rex,”.

He dropped his hands to his sides with a harsh sigh. “Would you just stop it?”

You were stunned. “Rex, I—”

“I spent two fucking years trying to forget I ever loved you. I was nothing, I was nobody, and you were this—this ideal being. I had no fucking clue why you gave me the time of day, but I let myself fall for you anyway. When we left for our tours, I broke. You were the first real thing, the first good thing I ever had, and you were gone. I was sure I was gonna die over there—and you wouldn’t have even known if I had. It was so much easier to believe that you had moved on, that you were through with me. Now you’re here and you’re alive and I—” his voice broke, “I don’t know what to do,”. He met your gaze, and his eyes glistened. His voice was barely a whisper, “You were always the rational one. Please tell me what to do,”.

Your wide eyes watered. You turned your head to the golden fields and let out a tiny sob. What the hell do you answer to that? Just as you opened your mouth to speak, you spotted what seemed to be a thousand metal heads just over a rolling hill. The separatists. You hastily wiped your eyes and took a deep breath. This would have to wait.

“The Separatists are here,” your voice wavered more than you would have liked. “I’ll comm the General,”. You sniffed, rubbing your eyes again. Get it together, you thought. You were a Jedi Master, for gods’ sake. Ever since returning to Coruscant, you’d been an emotional trainwreck. You were starting to see why the council discouraged attachments.

You allowed Rex a moment to collect himself, turning to face the oncoming droids as the two of you prepared in silence. The metallic clang of their footsteps grew louder and louder. Rex slipped his helmet back on over his head and unholstered his blasters.

“It’s your call, Commander. When d’ya wanna go?”

You looked back over your shoulder at him, and you were instantly thrown back to the hours of training exercises you had completed together. You grinned.

“Think you can take down the battle tank over there?” You motioned to the gargantuan hunk of steel situated right in the middle of a sea of battle droids.

The competitive edge you had so dearly missed was back in Rex’s voice.

“You know I never miss,”.

“Race you there,”. And with that, you were off. The two of you flew down the hill, cutting down the droids as if they were made of straw. You swung, decapitating a droid and ducking as Rex put a blaster hole through the one taking aim at you from behind. You worked well together, always did. The rest of the 501st seemed to be making easy work of the droids from behind.

“Rex, blaster!”

Rex tossed one of his blasters into the air, and you force-pulled it into your grasp in an instant. You fired off three quick shots at one of the tanks, damaging the traction treads. Rex looked over at the tank, and recognized the maneuver you had initiated in an instant. He took off for the tank, and called your name once he was just yards from its base.

“Saber!”

You switched off your saber and hurled it in Rex’s direction. He had barreled past at least ten lines of troops, snatching your lightsaber from the air before igniting it and plunging it into the battle tank’s generator while simultaneously firing off a few rapid shots at the droids. The droids’ main attention, as planned, was on you, and you were beginning to feel the heat. You force-pulled your lightsaber, still ignited, from Rex’s grasp and into a line of battle droids before its heavy weight met your palm again.

“Blaster!”

You tossed Rex his blaster, and he caught it with ease. With your lightsaber in hand, you began cutting a path to Rex, who had holed up against the decommissioned tank.

“Need to get me one of those,” Rex motioned to your lightsaber with a grin.

You shook your head with a laugh, deflecting a blaster shot as Rex took aim at the next line of droids.

It was your fault. You got distracted. Something about the focus in Rex’s masked stare as he picked off the droids one-by-one pulled your attention away just long enough for one of the droids to press the cool metal of its blaster against your neck. Before you could react, Rex fired two quick shots into its head.

“Told you, cyare, I never miss,”.

You missed this. The nicknames, the banter, working together like this. It felt good. It felt like coming home. You snuck one last glance at Rex before sprinting out from your cover to cut down the next row of droids.

Rex was fucked. Did you realize he called you cyare? It just slipped out—something about being here with you, fighting next to you—it brought him back to two years ago. He shook his head, firing at a droid that had pointed its blaster at you. He was done with pretending he didn’t care. He still had no idea what to do, or where this would go, but he could figure that out later.

You finished off the last droid, looking back at Rex with an easy smile before waving to General Skywalker. Rex jogged over to you, pulling you back behind the tank and away from the prying eyes of the rest of the 501st.

“Rex, wha—”

He ripped off his helmet, letting it fall to the ground as he pulled you into a kiss. His hand fell to the small of your back, and you practically collapsed into him. His lips were hungry against yours—he was all tongue and teeth and desperation. He needed this. You needed this. You raked your nails through his close-cropped hair, drawing a little groan from deep in his chest. His hands were everywhere—your hair, your neck, your waist—

“Rex, where are you? Are you injured?”

For the second time today, Rex was going to kill his general. He pulled away from you reluctantly, his hand lingering on your waist. You take his hand, and press your lips to his palm.

“We should go,”. Rex nods. “Meet me in my quarters tonight—you still like firewhiskey?”

“Rex—are you over here?”

You meet Rex’s eyes, and he smiles. A real smile. “I’ll see you tonight?”

“See you tonight,”.

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Like Real People Do Taglist: @pinkiemme @callme-eds @dinpoe

#captain rex #captain rex x y/n #ct 7567 #commander rex #rex x you #the clones #the 501st #rex x reader #captain rex x reader #captain rex x you #the clone wars

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snowdice · 4 years ago

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Finding the Time to Study Fic 2 [Day 31]

Here is my starting post for today’s study break stories session. See this post for more details and feel free to send me asks to keep me going! It’s been a lot of fun so far! I will reblog this post with the story as I write them today. I’ll be constantly looking for ideas of times and places for Janus to have missions, so feel free to send in any you can think of at any point!

If you are a new follower or just don’t want all of these posts clogging your dash, please feel free to block the tag “study break stories” as all posts and voting about it will go there. You can still see the finished product of the story even if you are blocking that tag as I will not tag the edited chapters with “study break stories” but with the tag “folds in paper.” See edited chapters below. Chapters 3-8 and what I have of Chapter 9 are under the cut.

My Masterpost Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

I also have a playlist on youtube (because Spotify didn’t have one of the songs I wanted). It’s short, and not really for serious listening, but I had fun with it.

Still feeling unmotivated. I’ve got to get this presentation done though.

Chapter 9

Khalid immediately called everyone back to base.

“What happened?” asked Fred when he and Lena arrived. The tech people were already scrambling to get through to the TPI and get the time lock broken from the outside.

“Remus, Remy, and Khalid got played by Pat or whatever his name is. It certainly isn’t Nick. He was just setting up a joke,” Janus told him.

“Stop being smug,” Remy said. “It’s not a good look for you.”

“Pat is…?” Lena asked.

“They guy who fucked me over in 1923,” Janus said, “and is currently in the middle of fucking us all over because he stole the pin timepiece, and by extrapolation, probably the time bomb too.”

“It will be fine,” said Khalid, “because what he doesn’t know is that timepiece has a tracker on it. Wherever and whenever he went, we’ll have his coordinates.”

“Speaking of,” one of the techies said. “It’s about to break. You might want to hold onto something.” Janus grabbed for a support beam next to him as the techie put a device on the ground in the center of the base. It blinked once, twice, and on the third blink the ground rumbled. There were sounds of panicked yelps outside. The fail safe for the time lock was not nearly as gentle as ending it correctly.

Everything settled after a few moments, and they all straightened themselves out. Janus’s timepiece buzzed to indicate it was now functioning normally. Khalid had returned her usual timepiece to her wrist and now used it to open a display they could all see. “The pin timepiece’s closest time/space coordinates are…” she trailed off. “Right outside?” She frowned. “That’s strange. Why would he still be here?” She turned to march outside, following the coordinates to a trash can. She pulled the pin timepiece out and stared at it. “Fuck,” she said.

“What just happened?” Remy asked.

“He ticked us,” Janus said. “Again.”

“He was stuck in the time lock,” Khalid said. “That’s why he got our attention. He couldn’t leave with the time bomb unless he had the pin timepiece or we broke the time lock. Apparently, he’s smart enough to know that if he took the pin timepiece away from here, we’d probably be able to find him, but he knew we’d break the lock as soon as the pin went missing. So, he must have stashed his own timepiece and went back in time within the time lock to grab it while we were distracted with the past version of him. As soon as the time lock went down, I imagine he left.”

“Probably with the time bomb,” Janus said.

“Probably with the time bomb,” she confirmed.

And everyone knew the only thing worse than a time bomb was a time bomb you didn’t know the location of.

They evacuated after that, of course, and time locked the location once they were out just in case they were wrong, but midnight 3000 struck without thousands of people dying in Brazil, so the time bomb had defiantly been removed from then.

The, they initiated a time travel lockdown for all nonessentials, not willing to let random history students get caught up in an explosion if Pat decided to set the thing off somewhere.

Then, it was a matter of figuring out everything they could about ‘Pat.’ First, they checked the tracker data as Khalid had tagged him with one of the Millennium Bird trackers. It wouldn’t work outside of the zone they’d set up that day, but the record would show his behavior during the time lock after he’d escaped with the pin timepiece.

There had been many little green dots on the map that day as Fred and Lena had actually been doing the job they’d set out to do, but most of those were running around in the south. There had been one green dot, however, that appeared suddenly in the game area about 10 minutes before the time bomb had been stolen.

They could see Janus’s yellow dot almost brush his when he’d been chasing the earlier Pat down, around when he’d lost him briefly. The earlier Pat must have all but handed it off to his future self.

“He doubled back,” Remus commented when they watched the recorded data. It was a ballsy move and one that most people balked at, because there were inherent dangers any time you interacted with yourself from a different point in the timestream. It was ripe for paradoxes. It made everyone at the agency even more worried, because if he was willing to risk that, then what else was he willing to do?

Because of the lockdown of all nonessential time travel, people working for the TPI were not allowed to go home for the night. They were allowed to pick up anyone or anything dependent on them for care like kids and pets if there wasn’t someone in their home time to care for them, but other than that, they were unfortunately all sleeping in their offices for the foreseeable future.

“You are the only tolerable one,” Janus told the cat who upon being let loose in the office by Remus, immediately jumped on Janus’s lap.

“I have literally done nothing to you,” Lena said, but then added. “Yet.”

“You exist. In my space.”

“Can’t we just all get along?” asked Fred. “It’s only been an hour past when we’d usually go home. I went and grabbed milk and I have my giant thing of different flavored hot chocolate under my desk. We can try them all and vote on which is better.”

“Fuck your hot chocolate, Fred,” Janus growled, having been one of the three who had chipped in to buy it for him on his last birthday.

“Don’t go after Fred, jackass,” Lena spat.

“He’s just testy because his boyfriend escaped,” Remus contributed.

Janus’s lips turned down into a frown and he cupped Diesel Fuel’s face. “We agree we’re eating him first, right?” he asked her.

She purred her agreement.

“I’d have it no other way,” Remus replied.

“There is plenty of food,” Fred said, sounding stressed. “In fact, I was thinking we should all chip in on ordering take-out soon. “What does everyone like on pizza?”

“This is not a slumber party, Fred,” Janus pointed out.

“Shut it,” Lena snapped and turned to Fred. “I’m fine with almost everything, except…”

“Bananas and tuna salad!” Remus interrupted.

“…whatever Remus is about to say.”

Janus rolled his eyes as that started a debate about whether or not fruit and/or fish belonged on pizza. He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes, which was when there was a knock on the door.

He froze when he heard the familiar voice. “Hello, hello,” said Emile, cheerfully. Janus looked up to see Emile standing at the open office door. Shit. Apparently, the man had decided to give up on sending lackeys to come fetch him and had decided to track him down himself when Janus couldn’t even escape without breaking a time lockdown. They met eyes briefly and Janus could see irritation if not anger in his eyes despite his otherwise cheerful expression and tone.

“Janus,” he said when he’d gotten their attention. “I’d like to have dinner with you.” The word choice told Janus everything he needed to know. Usually Emile was careful with how he said things to make sure people knew they had a choice. Typically he’d say something like, “I was wondering if you’d have time to have dinner with me tonight,” or “I’m about to go get food, would you like to come?” Today, there was no choice in the statement.

Janus still dried to dodge anyway. “Uh,” he said. “We were actually about to order pizza.”

“Go ahead,” said Fred kindly. Janus wanted to strangle him. “We can order pizza with olives if you’re not here.”

“I…” said Janus. “Guess, I’ll be going with you.”

“Great!” Emile said. “Let’s go.”

“Oh,” Janus said. “Uh, now?”

“Now,” Emile said a bit of uncharacteristic steel to his tone.

Well, Janus was screwed. He swallowed his nervousness and got to his feet, taking Diesel Fuel with him. He turned to hand her off to Remus with a plea in his eye, but he just got an eyebrow raise in return. Traitor.

Then, he followed Emile out of the office door. “What would you like to eat?” asked Emile.

“Uh,” Janus said. “I don’t know. You asked me to eat, don’t you have any ideas?”

“I don’t actually,” Emile replied. Right.

“…Noddle Bar?” Janus threw out the nearest restaurant he knew.

“The one noodle restaurant? Sure,” Emile answered simply. They walked side by side out of the front doors of the TPI building. Janus actually couldn’t remember the last time he’d taken these stairs. He usually used his timepiece to get in and out.

The noodle bar was only moderately busy at this time. They were quickly able to find a table near the back and Emile pulled his menu up in front of him. Emile hummed as he flipped through the different displays. “What are you having?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” Janus said, only then pulling up the menu himself, but still not quite looking at it.

“What about the fortune noodles,” Emile suggested.

Janus shook his head. “I don’t like those,” he said.

Emile glanced at him through the menu displays. “You used to.” Fortune noodles were a bit cheekily named. They didn’t actually indicate anything about your future. They were just supposed to taste like what you wanted from your future. A grad student might experience a feeling like they’d just aced a paper. A child that they got to stay up an hour later that night. Janus had liked the experience when he was younger, but in recent years, he’d begun to taste the underlying chemicals in the dish until that’s all he could.

“Well,” Emile said lightly, eyes on his menu. “That makes me even more worried for your mental health than I already was because of the almost three years of you avoiding talking to me.”

“No small talk, huh?” Janus asked.

“Forgive me,” Emile said, eyes now focused on Janus, and tone much darker. “How has your life been since I last saw your face 5 months ago during a business meeting and you refused to look me in the eye? Anything interesting happen? Shave your head and let it all regrow? Develop an allergy to peanuts? Join a convent and take an oath of silence that you only just broke today?”

“No,” said Janus quietly into the table.

“Great,” Emile said clipped. “Small talk over. Order your food.” Janus reached up blindly to select the first thing that came up on the food and drink menu as Emile punched something into his own and both menu displays disappeared, meaning there was nothing between their faces anymore. “You know, I was willing to give you a year,” Emile said. “I was willing to let you deal with it on your own because I thought eventually, you’d come talk to me about it, but apparently I was mistaken. The next year, I thought maybe you thought I didn’t want to talk to you, so I subtly made myself available, and you never took me up on the offer. I thought maybe I was just not being clear, and I should make my desire to talk to you more explicit, but as you have been routinely, clearly avoiding me at every single turn, I’ve decided I’ve had enough. So, let’s lay it all on the table. Is it me or do you need help?”

Janus closed his eyes. “It’s not you.”

“Then you need help,” Emile concluded.

Janus shook his head.

“Yes,” Emile snapped. “Whatever this is has gone on far too long.”

Janus stood up and slammed his hand down on the table. “And it’s going to keep going on!” he said. The food popped up at that moment. It appeared Janus had ordered lasagna and bubble tea, and Emile had ordered something with spaghetti and a fizzy drink.

“So, you’re just planning to go on being miserable then?” Emile asked, and Janus wasn’t sure if it was worse or better that he didn’t sound angry anymore.

Janus slapped his hand down on the “To Go” button and his dinner was insta-wrapped by the table. “Yes,” he said.

“What exactly do you think you’re paying penance for, Janus?” Emile asked.

“You wouldn’t understand,” Janus said, paying for both of their meals with his fingerprint.

“That’s a cop out and you know it,” Emile said. “All you’d have to do is talk to me. Or even just talk to someone else. Please.”

“Just…” Janus said, grabbing his bag of food to avoid looking at him. “Just, leave me be.” He walked out of the noodle shop without another word.

Chapter 10

“And I thought Remus was going to be the most disgusting roommate in this equation,” Lena grumbled. Janus and Lena were apparently the earlier risers in the group as Fred was still curled up around a pillow and Remus was sprawled out under his desk.

Janus flipped her off.

“Protein infused Poptarts and caffeinated orange juice for breakfast?” she asked. “Just eat an energy bar and have a cup of coffee like a normal person.”

He took another pointed bite of his Poptart.

“You’re a horrible roommate. This is why they gave us different partners.”

“Yeah, well you snore, asshole,” Janus said after finishing off his meal.

“I’d tell you to go eat shit, but you already did that once this morning.”

A pillow flew across the room and somehow managed to hit the both of them. “S’op fighting,” Fred mumbled. “It’s sleep time.”

“It’s morning Fred,” Lena said.

“No,” Fred mumbled.

Janus ignored them, turning back to his integration port to continue to keep plugging in phrases of interest, but he kept getting nothing.

“What are you doing?” Lena asked after a few moments of him huffing at his screen reader.

“Trying to do anything that may change our current living arrangements.”

She puffed out an amused breath. “Can I help?”

“Can you see any connection between these words and phrases?” he asked, pulling away his screen reader and tapping at the words he’d typed out.

“Paranoid, tonight, I live to party, comeback, love Bug, BB good, Mandy, Macy Misa, I believe, cool, that’s just the way we roll, burnin’ up,” she said. “What are these?”

“They’re things Pat said when we interrogated that struck me funny,” Janus explained. “I feel like he was saying something more than what he said.”

“Hmm,” she said. “PTI for the first three?”

“Maybe,” Janus agreed, “but what about the rest of it? I feel like I’m missing something.”

15080

“Millennia,” Remus mumbled from under his desk. Janus hadn’t been aware he was awake. “He said something something about it being the only time he could see the change of the millennia.” He turned his head to look at Janus. “Considering he’s a time traveler, that’s definitely a weird thing to say.”

“Millennia,” Janus contemplated. “A different turn of the millennia. Oh no.”

“What?” Lena asked.

Janus sighed, and rubbed his temple. “I know someone who studied the 1700-2200s.”

“Isn’t that good?”

“No,” Janus groaned, “because now I have to go talk to him.” He stood with a sigh and then paused. “How do I even get to Silver Mountains University without my timepiece?”

Luckily Sliver Mountains ended up only being about an hour away from the TPI by time adherent travel, but considering Janus was used to his travel being instantaneous, it was an aggravating trip. He had to show ID and be buzzed up to the fourth floor since it was usually locked to everyone not traveling by timepiece or who worked in the office.

The receptionist was the same man as before. “I’m here to speak to Professor Eran,” Janus said.

The receptionist nodded. “He mentioned you asked to meet him but didn’t know when you’d arrive. He’ll be done teaching his class in about 5 minutes. You can wait over there.”

Janus nodded and sat, waiting for time to slowly tick by. Virgil arrived after a few minutes, lugging a giant bag with him. He caught sight of Janus and wordlessly jerked his head towards the hallway. Janus followed him.

“What’s in the bag?” Janus asked.

“Early 21st century cell phones,” Virgil said, dropping it on his desk. “I let my students mess around with them for their lab.”

“I see,” Janus said.

“What did you need?” Virgil asked. “You said it was official business.”

“You’ve heard about the lockdown, I presume,” Janus said.

“Yeah, it really screws up my research schedule for the summer,” Virgil said.

15412

“Do you know why the lockdown was instituted?” Janus asked. Virgil shook his head, so Janus explained briefly that they had been trying to find a timebomb on the eve of the year 3000, but it had been swiped by a free agent time traveler. “Some of the things seemed to be references to things that I couldn’t place, and I was wondering if you would recognize any.”

“Shoot,” Virgil requested, seeming intrigued by the prospect.

“Okay,” Janus said. “First, the alias he was using was Nick Jonas.” A weird expression crossed Virgil’s face immediately and Janus paused.

“You said the year 3000?” Virgil asked.

“Er. Yes.”

“Nick Jonas. Year 3000,” Virgil repeated with a snort. “Were Joe and Kevin a part of this too?”

Janus blinked. “Yes, how did you know that?”

“Yo-you’re going to have,” his sentence was broken by a giggle, and actual full-fledged giggle, “have to give me a minute.” With that, he sort of listed to the side and seemed to purposefully fall off his chair onto the floor under his desk.

Janus blinked and when he didn’t surface after a moment, he stood up to lean over the desk and look down at him. Virgil had his arm thrown over his beat red face, as he shook from what Janus thought was suppressed laughter.

“What?” Janus asked. “What’s wrong?”

“Just…” Virgil said, sobbing through his laughter. “Just tell me the things he said.”

“Er, mostly he just had weird inflections on words and phrases. There was ‘paranoid, tonight, I live to party, comeback…’”

“Wait, stop,” Virgil said. “Let me guess a few. That’s Just the Way We Roll, Burnin’ Up, Sucker.”

“The first two were, but not the last one.”

Virgil laughed. “Maybe the last one was just implied.”

Janus frowned down. “What are you talking about? What does this all mean?”

Virgil pulled himself out from under his desk and grabbed his bag of phones. He dug through it for a few seconds before pulling one out and handing it to Janus. “I have a lab for my students where they get preloaded phones from the early 21st century and are supposed to guess the demographics of the person who owns it. This one is an iPhone 3 meant to belong to a pre-teen to teenage girl from the year 2009. Look under music artists starting with the letter ‘J.’”

15810

Confused, Janus scrolled through the old style phone, finding the music app and opening it easily. Upon getting to the ‘J’s, he immediately paused on an artist called the ‘Jonas Brothers.’ He clicked on it and read a few of the song titles. They weren’t all there, but…

“That rat bastard,” Janus said.

“Scroll to the bottom,” Virgil said. Janus did and found a song titled ‘Year 3000.’

“You’re kidding me.”

“Click on it,” Virgil requested.

Janus did, listening to the fairly standard pop like intro from the time period. It wasn’t until he got to the lyrics saying, ‘He told me he built a time machine’ that he cursed, understanding exactly what Pat had been doing. When the singer a few lines latter proclaimed that his neighbor said ‘I’ve been to the year 3000’ he almost smashed the artifact to pieces right then and there.

“I have no idea who this guy is,” Virgil said, “but he’s a comedic genius.”

Chapter 11

Khalid caught him on his way back into the TPI building. “I heard you went to Silver Mountains to follow up on a lead,” she said.

“Yeah, but it was garbage,” he seethed. “All I learned was ‘Pat’ knows early 2000s popular culture and likes to fuck with us.”

She hummed. “I’d still like a report about whatever you found. Who knows what we might end up getting from seemingly inconsequential data.”

“Sure,” he said.

“Anyway,” she continued. “I have a mission for you.”

“We’re on lockdown,” Janus pointed out with a frown.

“For nonessentials,” she said. “This is essential.”

“What happened?” Janus asked.

“We picked up a small time distortion in France 2027. At the moment, it is small enough not to cause any disruptions, but it is slowly growing, and we don’t know what caused it. Usually we’d just send surveillance agents at this stage, but considering what’s going on, I think it would be best to send a field agent. And it would just be you, because we don’t want to send too many people out at once.”

“Is this related to the time bomb?” Janus asked.

“I’m not sure,” she said. “At the very least, it’s not it being set off as it was in 2999, but if it’s been altered for some other purpose…”

“I’ll go,” Janus said.

“I’ll send over the mission directive to everyone who needs it. You’ll go in around 3 hours.”

He nodded. “I’ll be ready,” he agreed.

In less then 3 hours, he was dressed for 2027 France and in decontamination. “Well,” he said out loud when he was given the all clear sign, “I hope I don’t explode.” He selected the coordinates on the timepiece and the next moment he was in a small alleyway in the city of Montpellier, France in 2027.

It was a little bit warm, but not stifling even in the mid-afternoon and he could faintly smell the sea on the breeze.

After a moment to get his bearings, Janus made his way out of the alleyway and onto a small street. The street was lined with restaurants and shops as people went about their daily lives. He carefully integrated himself into the crowd and began weaving his way through them. He needed to find the source of the distortion but doing a quick scan with his timepiece told him there wasn’t any sign of it yet. He’d have to wait for it to act up.

For now, he decided to get slightly away from people by heading towards the river. He found a park that had benches along water.

As he walked towards the river, he noticed a man on the bench, angled slightly away from Janus and looking out at the water. He immediately recognized the man. “You!” he exclaimed.

Pat’s head shot around to look at him, and he gave a slight head tilt. Then, he smiled, amused. “You are not the person I’m here for,” he said.

“Well, I am now,” Janus snapped. “Where’s the time bomb?”

“Time bomb?” Pat asked, eyebrows drawing together, but amusement on his lips. “Oh sweetie, the time bomb happened a long time ago for me.”

“What?” Janus asked.

“Oh, you’re just a baby,” Pat laughed. “Don’t you get it yet? The two of us are out of sync timeline wise. You’ve been apparently running around with a much younger version of me, but all of that happened quite a while ago for me. Don’t worry though, it gets better.”

“What are you talking about?”

“The time bomb has been long deactivated. Here,” he reached into his pocket and tossed him something. Janus caught it on instinct. “Proof. Don’t worry, we took all of the dangerous bits out years ago from my perspective.” It was the core of a time bomb, the time bomb Pat had stolen if he was to be believed. “You can tell your people it’s safe to remove the lockdown.”

Janus curled his fingers around it. “I don’t get it.”

Something on Pat’s wrist beeped and he looked at it curiously before he stood from the bench, “and I don’t have time to explain it.”

Janus jerked forward to grab his wrist. “Don’t you dare.”

Pat reached up to pat his face. “Don’t worry honey, you’ll be seeing me later.” He twisted his wrist and a small electric current sparked between them. Janus jerked his hand away, and Pat smiled at him. “Or… earlier.” He winked, and then he was gone.

Janus cursed, but he didn’t have more than a moment to be angry because in the next second there was a yelp, and something landed on top of him. He was bowled over into a tangle of limbs and pained noises.

“Oh my god, we need to figure out the height thing,” a familiar voice groaned, just as Janus managed to pull himself away. Pat blinked up at him and his eyes narrowed. “You,” he hissed.

“…What?”

Pat jumped to his feet, leaving Janus on the ground in front of him. “What are you doing here?” he spat, his tone much different then the one he’d been using a moment earlier. His hair was longer than it had been before, and if Janus looked closely, he did seem like he was a couple of years younger suddenly. Out of sync timelines. I’ll see you earlier. Holy shit.

He was suddenly very glad he’d been forced to let the other Pat (the older Pat?) go, else they’d have a whole thing on their hands.

“What are you doing here?” was Janus’s retort as he stood up and dusted himself off.

“It’s none of your business,” Pat told him.

“It is my business,” Janus said, “because for all I know, you are the cause of the time distortions I’m after. Considering that I doubt you have a license for that,” he waved at the odd looking timepiece of Pat’s wrist, “it’s very possible.”

“What are you?” Pat asked, “the time police.”

“Yes.”

Pat dared to roll his eyes, but then he tilted his head slightly. “Time distortions?” he asked.

“Yes, that’s why I’m here.”

He still had a confused frown on his face. Did… did he not know what a time distortion was?

Just then there was a sudden flash of lightening through the sky despite the absolutely lack of clouds. He and Pat both looked up.

“Is that the time distortion?” Pat asked.

“It’s probably the beginning of it,” Janus said.

“That doesn’t look good,” Pat said as he squinted at the sky.

“Just wait,” Janus answered grimly. He looked at Pat. “Usually I’d arrest you on the spot,” he said, “but I’m alone for this one, and that is far more important at the moment. So, have a nice day doing whatever bullshit you are doing.” He glanced at his timepiece.

Janus turned to walk away from him.

“Wait!” Pat exclaimed, and Janus turned back to him to see that his eyes were wide. Janus raised an eyebrow. “So, this time distortion thing is dangerous, right?”

“Depending on the severity, it could cause time to fracture around this place and time, basically erasing it from existence and killing everyone in it.”

“Well, in that case, I should go with you. To help.”

Janus looked him up and down. “You… have no idea what’s happening, do you? You’re an amateur.”

“I’m not,” he claimed. “I just. Pooling resources. You know?”

Janus sighed. “Well, you going around mucking about this time period without knowing what you’re doing could just exasperate the situation, so fine, you can tag along.”

“I know what I’m doing,” he grumbled even as he rushed to Janus’s side at the permission.

“Sure,” Janus said with an eyeroll. He guessed he was a babysitter now. “I believe you.”

Chapter 12

There was something off about his readings. Clearly the time distortion was starting to pull at this place with the way the weather was flickering between storming and sunny, but he still couldn’t quite pinpoint the exact location of the source of it. He could, however, get that it must be somewhere on this side of the river more into the downtown area, so that’s the way he was walking, Pat close on his heels.

“What’s your name, by the way?” he asked.

Janus shot him a glare. “Elvis Presley,” he said.

Pat frowned, clearly knowing who that was. “There’s no reason to be mean.”

“You did it to me first.”

“…Introduced myself as a famous musician?” he asked. Janus didn’t respond, and after a moment, Pat laughed lightly. “You really don’t understand time travel, do you?”

“Oh, yeah,” Janus said. “Name the three types of time distortions.”

“Just because I don’t know the names of things doesn’t mean I don’t understand them.” He stuck out his tongue. Janus was dealing with an actual toddler. “Unlike you who has a bunch of fancy words, but just caused a time loop.”

Janus scoffed. “I did not just cause a time loop.”

“Maybe not a big one,” Pat agreed, “but you did.”

Janus raised an eyebrow. “I’ve never introduced myself to you with a musician’s name, but now you’ve told me that I will. So, at some point in the future I will have to, thereby making you think to say that now. Time loop.”

“That’s not… that doesn’t count.”

“Does too,” Pat claimed. “Like I have said once before and you may or may not have heard me say before, anything you do to me to get back at me for something I haven’t done yet, just causes whatever that is to happen in the first place.”

“But you’re still going to do it.”

“Then take it up with future me. I haven’t done anything to you.” Then he paused and sighed. “…Which I guess means you’ve done nothing to me.” He seemed to mull this concept over for a long moment. “Well you were a bit crabby about me not knowing what a time distortion was, but I can forgive you for that.”

“And I’m supposed to forgive you?”

“Like I said,” Pat said. “I haven’t done anything yet.”

“You also haven’t done anything to endear yourself to me either,” Janus grumbled.

“Hmm,” Pat said. “Fine.” He pulled something out of his pocket. “You’re obviously not having much luck finding whatever you’re looking for. Tell me what it is and I’ll help.”

Janus squinted at what was in his hand. “Is that… an iPhone 5?”

“No!” he said. “It’s super-secret time travel tech disguised as an iPhone 5!”

“We’re in 2027,” Janus said. “Not a great disguise. Those things have been obsolete for a decade.”

“Well I’ll keep in mind to have my tech disguised as phones from the right year next time,” Pat said, sticking out his tongue. “Now what are we looking for?”

“If my timepiece can’t find it, I’m certain yours can’t.”

Pat rolled his eyes and tapped on the device’s screen a couple of times. “I’m going to guess it’s that,” he said proudly.

Janus leaned over to look at the screen. “Are you using google maps?” he sputtered.

“It integrates time relevant data like traffic conditions and local weather warnings with time travel technology,” Pat explained. “Something seems to be going on in a museum a couple of blocks that way.”

“I…” Janus said. That was actually a really good idea, usually unnecessary with scouts observing that data beforehand, and Janus wasn’t sure how good the accuracy would be considering whatever was taking it into account was automated, but still a good idea. “Well, I guess since we have no other leads, we can check it out.”

Pat looked far too proud for having only used a piece of tech that hadn’t even been confirmed as accurate. “Then, let’s go,” he said right as a chilly wind started to pick up and a couple of snowflakes began to fall around them. “Before that gets worse…”

Janus let Pat lead with his iPhone. Janus’s timepiece still wasn’t picking up a clear signal for some reason, but it seemed to point in the same general direction as Pat’s. Strangely though, as they got closer to their destination, the signal started to get fuzzier. Pat’s tech seemed unaffected leading them closer to the museum.

When they got to the Musée Fabre museum, Janus stopped. “What?” Pat asked. He was shivering slightly in the cold and holding his arms around himself.

“My timepiece stopped working completely,” he said.

“I’m assuming that’s weird?” Pat said.

“It is,” Janus confirmed, turning to squint at him suspiciously. “How do I know you’re not the one doing it?”

“If I was doing it, wouldn’t I have just knocked it out from the get go?” Pat questioned.

Janus pursed his lips. “I don’t know,” he said. “Would you have? Maybe it’s a trick.”

Pat’s eyes narrowed a bit on him. “Think what you want, but I’m freezing. Come in with me if you want.”

He dithered from a few moments before following Pat inside. Pat had already struck up a conversation with the woman charging admission into art museum. She was looking at him, her brow knit as he spoke. Janus nudged him away from her getting a confused glance from him in return. He shot a smile at the woman.

“Two adult passes for the museum and the Hotel Sabatier d’Espevran, please,” he said, placing down 14 euro.

“Ah,” she said, still looking at Pat oddly. “Yes sir.” She gave them the passes and Janus quickly shuffled Pat away.

“What is wrong with your French?” he hissed once they were out of earshot.

“What?” he asked, bewildered.

“You sound like you’re reading Le Comte de Monte-Cristo. No one talks like that anymore.”

“I’m a little rusty,” Pat defended himself.

“Two centuries?” Janus asked. Pat stuck his tongue out like a child once again. “Is that your only way to respond to legitimate criticism?”

“What does it even matter anyway? No one ever expects time travel, at least not for something so silly.”

“It’s not silly,” Janus said. “It’s a legitimate issue. The wrong person who’s watched too much science fiction notices and you’re putting the timeline at risk. Not to mention if there are other time travelers around that aren’t as nice as me.”

“Are there a lot of time travelers around?” Pat asked, sounding intrigued.

“There are plenty, both legal and not.”

“Huh,” he said, “but what are the chances we’ll run into another one?”

“Considering the time distortion? There could be many. Opportunists wanting to capitalize off the chaos, people trying to stop it, like me, and not to mention the person who caused it.”

“Wait, someone made it happen?” Pat asked.

“These things don’t just happen naturally.”

“Huh. So, something like this has to be caused by a person?”

“Yes,” Janus said. “…Why?”

Pat smiled. “No reason. I think we should head upstairs. Whatever I’m picking up says it’s around here, but I don’t see anything. Maybe it’s a floor or two above us.”

“Which is why it’s ridiculous to use Google Maps.”

“Would you rather use yours?” he asked sweetly.

“I’m still not convinced it’s not your doing,” Janus growled. “Why does your tech still work when mine doesn’t?”

“Probably the same reason the ring did,” he muttered.

“What?”

“You may be the most aggravating being in the universe.”

Pat glanced at him with a bit of a smirk. “I can’t tell you,” he said. “It would be a much bigger risk to the timeline than me speaking in French from the 1830s. But, I’m pretty sure the reason mine still works is just a software difference.”

“What the hell do you mean a software difference?”

Pat opened his mouth, doubtlessly to supply him with yet another frustratingly cheeky and unhelpful answer. Yet, Pat did not have a chance to do so as, just as Janus stepped onto the second floor of the museum, the ground started to violently shake. Janus tried to turn to catch Pat as the other man’s foot slipped on the last step, but he couldn’t do so in time. Pat fell onto his hands and knees, sliding back a few steps and smacking his face into the stairs hard once and then a couple of times more after that as he slid.

Chapter 13

The room stopped shaking after a moment. “Ow,” Pat said. He seemed a bit stunned but was still moving at least. He carefully maneuvered himself into a seating position. “Ouch. Owie.” He reached up to poke his own nose. “Ow!” Janus slapped his hand away when he got there. A bit of blood was already trickling from his nose and there was a small cut over his eye, but it wasn’t bleeding too much.

Janus pushed him so he was leaning slightly forward and produced a pack of time appropriate tissues from his pocket. He pulled one out of the package and offered it to him.

He took it and pressed it up against his nose to try to stop the bleeding. He seemed mostly alright though Janus imagined he’d have plenty of bruises down the line. The power in the museum flickered and Janus looked up. Now that he was listening, he could hear people panicking in and out of the museum.

“We should probably get off of the stairs,” he suggested.

“Yeah,” Pat agreed. Janus helped him to his feet, and they climbed back up the steps. Janus looked around and found an employees only sign a few feet away. Usually he’d not risk that as it could get him into trouble he didn’t want to be in, but considering the earthquake that had just happened, he could probably play it off as panic.

He ushered Pat into a small room and found a chair and table. He had Pat sit in the chair and pulled out another one of the tissues to dab at the blood coming from the cut over his eyes. “Here,” he said. “Hold that there. I’m going to go see if there are any bandages about.”

Pat took the tissue with the hand not already holding one to his nose. “Thanks,” he said.

Janus nodded and got to his feet. The lights flickered once again but didn’t stay off for now. He didn’t know how long that would last.

He couldn’t see anything that might hold bandages in this room, but there was a second door. “I’ll be right back,” he told Pat, exiting through it.

The lights flickered once more as the door closed behind him and he cursed. When they came back up Janus’s eyes immediately fell on a man. They both froze.

“Remus!” Janus hissed the second their eyes met. “What are you doing here?”

Remus blinked at him for a moment. “Hi. Janus,” he said. “I… come to France for… tea sometimes?”

“There isn’t any tea back here.”

“So, there isn’t…” he said. There was a moment of silence. “Uh, so I actually cannot talk to you right now.”

“What do you mean?” Janus asked. Remus grimaced in a way Janus had never seen from him before. It immediately set off alarm bells in Janus’s head. “Oh my god,” Janus said. “Oh my god. You’re not from the same time as me.”

“Oh, you have no idea,” Remus mumbled.

“Holy shit, you’re looping?!”

“It’s… not looping if I wasn’t here the first time.”

“Remus, we spend more than 12 hours a day together most of the time. The only thing worse than this is if I looped back to this time myself.”

“…Yeah. Anyway, I need to leave now.”

“Please do.”

He turned to go, but then stopped. “Oh, and,” he reached into his pocket and tossed something at Janus. Janus caught it.

It was Band-Aids.

“Oh, shit,” Janus spat at the clear use of foreknowledge. “I hate this. I hate you. I’m going to kill you the next time you see me.”

“Sure, Jan.”

“Go.”

He did, slipping into the next room while Janus took a deep breath and then turned back to the door behind him. He schooled his face before Pat looked up. “I found some Band-Aids.”

Pat nodded and Janus came over to squat next to him.

Janus opened the box and Pat looked down. His eyes lit up with sudden joy so intense that Janus felt like he’d just gotten a punch to the gut. “Kitty Band-Aids!” he exclaimed. Janus bothered to actually look at the design on the container, only to note the cartoon cats on the front. Pat was almost vibrating off his seat. “Look they’re all so cute!” He grabbed the container from him to inspect the different designs printed on the back with glee even as a bit of blood was still trickling from his nose.

Janus took the box back gently and guided the wad of bloody Kleenexes back to his nose.

“Which would you like?” Janus asked.

“Oh, they are all so cute,” Pat cooed. “Um, how about that one!” he pointed. “Or that one! Or that one!”

“Pat you only have one cut.”

“But they’re all so cute!” Pat said, tongue tucking into his cheek. He contemplated the box again. “Let’s do the black one,” he finally settled on.

Janus selected one of the Band-Aids with a black cat wrapped around a pink ball of yarn and staring back at them with wide green eyes. The think looked like it had partaken in one two many doses of catnip, but Janus didn’t mention that.

Instead, he just carefully unstuck the backing from the Band-Aid and motioned for Pat to remove the tissue from his forehead. He smiled at Janus as he drew back.

Janus cleared his throat. “How’s the nose.”

“It’s slowing down,” Pat replied. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” Janus replied. They met eyes for a second before Pat looked away back at the box of Band-Aids.

“Oh,” Pat said. “There’s a grey one. I didn’t notice.” He pointed to it. “I should have used that one.”

“Do you like grey cats?” Janus asked.

“I like all kitties,” he said, “but one of my roommates loves grey cats. He had one when he was a kid and thinks of them as good omens. Seeing one always brightens up his day.”

“A friend of mine has a grey cat,” Janus said. “She’s much more tolerable than him.”

Pat laughed a bit. “Don’t be mean,” he said.

“Oh, he deserves it, don’t worry.” Janus considered him for a moment. “Here,” he said, pulling out one of the Band-Aids with the grey cat on it. It did, actually, look a lot like Diesel Fuel.

“But I don’t…”

Janus just shrugged and stuck it on his cheek where there was no wound. Pat giggled and touched it with a finger. Janus stood back up.

“Can I have another tissue?” Pat asked.

“Sure.” Janus handed a tissue over to him and he crumpled up the bloody ones in his hand.

“I think I’m good to keep going,” Pat said, putting the new tissue under his nose. “The nose will stop soon.”

Pat got out his iPhone and directed him back out of the room. They checked the second floor and didn’t find anything and so went to the third floor. The second they arrived in the room that Pat’s phone was directing them too, Janus knew that it must be right. There was a strange, distorted whirling sound and the entire room was shaking slightly like they were standing next to a railroad track.

“I’m guessing this is it,” Pat said.

Janus nodded and looked over his shoulder at the screen. They both cautiously walked towards where the little dot was on the phone.

“Is that it?” Pat asked, pointing at a small device on the center column in the room. Janus reached forward to flip the switch on it. The whirling stopped and the room settled. Janus’s time piece vibrated as it came back online. They waited for a few moments. “I assumed… time distortions would be more…”

“They are,” Janus said. “This one is artificial.”

“What does that mean?”

“It’s a simulation,” Janus said. “It causes similar symptoms to a time distortion, but it’s not actually fracturing time at all.”

“That’s good, isn’t it?” Pat asked.

“I don’t know,” Janus said. He took the piece of tech of the wall and carefully stored it in his pocket, “but someone’s trying to get our attention.”

Chapter 14

Janus didn’t feel comfortable leaving France 2027 just yet, still weirded out by the strange turn of events. So, he and Pat ended up sticking around for a couple of hours. They looked through the art museum for a bit, but Janus was having trouble focusing on the pieces, and Pat eventually suggested they get some air. Janus agreed considering the museum would close for the night soon anyway.

They wandered around the downtown for a bit. The people seemed to jump back from the strange weather and earthquake that afternoon rather quickly, and there were plenty still about to blend into.

Pat was snapping photos every so often like a tourist which Janus shook his head at but allowed because even with the outdated phone it almost made them blend in even more. It also might stop any questions about Pat’s weird way of speaking French. They could just say he was an overeager tourist who watched too many old movies.

“Ooo!” Pat said. “We should get crepes.”

“Why?”

“You can’t go to France and not eat crepes.”

“I assure you, you can,” Janus said dryly.

Pat shot a pout at him and the next thing he knew he was in a small crepe shop.

For Janus, choosing something was easy. He just ordered the first thing he found on the menu which seemed to be a standard one with ham and eggs. Pat on the other hand seemed to be struggling greatly, and Janus had to gently push him to the side to let some other customers order first.

“What should I get!?” Pat asked. “They all look so good! I could do strawberry preserves or maple syrup or just sugar!”

“Or you could get one that is actually food,” Janus suggested mildly. “I don’t think you need any more sugar judging by how you are acting.”

Pat rolled his eyes. “You sound like Lo.”

Janus made a note of the name ‘Lo’ even though it surely was a nickname.

“But, since you’re insisting, I’ll get something healthy. I’ll have the strawberry one. That’s a fruit!”

“It comes with a cream cheese filling,” Janus pointed out.

“And it’s fruit!”

Janus shook his head and stepped up to the counter. “One ham and cheese and one strawberry preserve, please,” he said to the cashier as he was not allowing Pat to order in French and accidently say something stupid. He forked over some euros.

“You don’t have to pay for me,” Pat protested when he saw that.

Janus glanced back at him. “I was afraid you’d try to pay in francs,” he said dryly.

It looked like Pat was about to stick his tongue out at him, remembered that Janus had criticized him for that earlier, and then just scrunched up his face in displeasure as though that was any less childish.

They waited for their crepes to be finished and then went to eat them outside near a water fountain.

“I can pay you back for the crepe,” Pat said after they sat down. “I do actually have euros.”

Janus waved him off. “It wasn’t that expensive.”

Pat hummed. “Well, in that case. I insist on paying for a wish for you.” Janus raised an eyebrow. “In the fountain!” Pat clarified.

Pat set aside his crepe to dig in his pocket for a couple of coins. “Here!” he said handing one over.

Janus glanced over at the fountain. “No.”

“Oh, come on,” Pat beseeched. “You have to want something. I’ll even throw it in for you, but you have to make a wish first!”

“No.”

“Please!”

Janus sighed. “Fine.” He popped the rest of his crepe in his mouth. “I wish for a crepe,” he said after swallowing.

“You just had a crepe, silly.”

“But I liked it, so I want another one.”

“We can go back and get you another crepe.”

“Ah, but I’m not hungry anymore.”

Pat crossed his arms. “You’re just being difficult on purpose.”

“Not me,” Janus said putting hand over his heart. “I would never do something like that.”

Pat glared at him, but then snatched the coin out of his hand. “Fine!” he said. “One crepe wish coming right up.” He hopped up with the two coins and darted over to the water fountain. Janus turned to watch him go but then happened to catch sight of something out of the corner of his eyes.

Pat’s phone.

He didn’t pause in his movement, completing the turn, but as he watched Pat close his eyes, presumably to focus on his own wish, Janus snuck a hand out and grabbed the phone without looking. He slipped it into his own pocket.

Pat came back over after throwing both coins in the fountain and didn’t even seem to notice that his phone was missing, picking up his crepe to take another bite. Just to make sure, though Janus decided to distract him. “What do you think of your crepe?” Janus asked.

“I like it! It’s sweet, but not too sweet. There was a crepe place across the street from my apartment in college, but they always put a bit too much sugar in the dough, I think. I’d still eat them, but these are much better.”

Janus nodded and kept up the light conversation until Pat was finished.

21088

“Well,” he said then, getting to his feet. “It seems that nothing else is going to happen regarding the time distortion. I should be getting back.”

Pat hummed. “I should too. It’s movie night!”

“I probably should arrest you,” Janus noted.

“In the middle of all of these people?” Pat asked mildly.

“Touché,” Janus said.

Pat gasped and pointed at him. “Pun!” he said. Janus blinked at him. “Because we’re in France! That’s French!”

“…Goodbye Pat,” Janus said, turning to walk away from him.

“Goodbye… wait I still don’t know your name!”

Janus stopped to look back at him for a moment. “Like I said,” he replied. “Elvis.”

“Fine,” Pat said. “Au revoir, mon chéri.”

“You never stop, do you?” Janus asked.

Pat giggled. “Considering I don’t know what you mean, I imagine I’m just getting started.”

Janus actually left then, walking off towards the alley he’d first arrived in. In some ways, the mission had been a bust, but in others it had gone very well.

He felt for the weight of the phone in his pocket before pulling up the display screen on his timepiece to go back to the TPI.

It had gone very well indeed.

Chapter 15

The first thing Janus had done when he’d returned to the TPI was hand over the timebomb to Khalid who sent it to forensics. Within the hour, forensics got back to them that it was the same timebomb as 2999 and that it had never exploded, but simply been diffused. Which meant, blessings on blessings, everyone got to go home that night.

Not that Janus went home, no, he ended up falling asleep on his desk somewhere between 3 and 4am, but at least he wasn’t sharing his space with anyone. He’d been trying to hack the cell phone all night to see if it had anything he could use, but he honestly had no idea what he was doing. All it seemed he could do was play some annoying song over and over again about never giving someone up. At around 2am, he’d finally broken and sent off an email, though, he’d continued to try to mess with it after that.

He got woken up by Lena coming into the office at 7am, and noticed he already had an email response asking when Janus wanted to come in.

“Now?” he sent back.

“…Do you sleep?” was the immediate response. “And yes.”

His wrist buzzed as an appointment in 5 seconds downloaded to his timepiece. He selected the coordinates and landed at Cultural Outreach. The receptionist blinked up at him and then back down at the screen on his desk. “Oh!” he said. “I didn’t see this appointment. I think Professor Eran is in his office.”

He didn’t stand to escort Janus this time, so Janus went ahead and went down the hall to Virgil’s office himself.

He knocked on the door and while he was waiting for Virgil to open it, the infernal contraption once again started to play the same stupid song.

“I didn’t even touch you!” he spat, getting it out and tapping on the screen.

“Jonas Brothers dude again?” Virgil asked causally upon opening the door.

Janus shoved it at him. “Make it stop.”

Virgil took it and fiddled with it for a few moments before it stopped with the song. “Oh my gosh,” he said scrolling through something on the screen.

“What.”

“What maniac sets a custom alarm for every 30-60 minutes for a week that just plays ‘Never Gonna Give You Up’? Oh, and one ‘It’s Not Unusual’ on Saturday. He’s mixing memes at an alarming rate.”

“Can you. Just. Make it not happen. Anymore?”

Virgil smirked at him. “Maybe.” He turned around to go back into his office.

“Virgil,” Janus growled following him in.

Virgil just laughed. “What do you want to know about it?” he asked. “Just a fair warning… the song means he… likely was aware someone would steal it.”

“Of course, he was,” Janus groaned.

“But I’m sure we can still get something out of it.” Virgil started tapping at the screen again. “Okay, let’s see. It’s an iPhone 5, and someone jailbroke it.”

“What does that mean?”

“Tampered with it so they could install non-company approved software,” Virgil explained.

“Well I figured that since he was using Google Maps to track time distortions,” Janus grumbled.

“I think I have something,” Virgil said to himself while digging through his desk. “Ah ha!” He held up some sort of cord. “This will let me hook it up to my integrator.” He slotted the cord into the bottom of the iPhone and then crawled under his desk to fiddle around with some other things. “There we go,” Virgil said popping back up. “It might take a few minutes. Running the program any faster might overheat the phone.”

Janus nodded and sat back to wait. Virgil grabbed the phone and started to play around with it a bit even as it uploaded all of its information to his computer.

“Weird,” Virgil said after a moment.

“What?” Janus asked, sitting up straighter.

“There are exactly two contacts. Fewer than I’d anticipate for a regular phone from the 2010s. More than I would expect from one clearly not being used as a phone.

Virgil glanced to the side, and it must have finished the download because he unhooked it from the computer. “I have a 21st century phone network adapter,” Virgil said. “It transfers call back to whatever date the phone says. Do you want to try calling one?”

“It’s worth a shot,” Janus replied.

Virgil dug back into his desk for a small device that he plugged into the same port he’d plugged the earlier cord. “Okay, which contact do you want to try first?” he asked. “One has ‘Ro’ with a crown, red heart, and a gold star emoji. The other has “Lo” with a book, blue heart, and Milky Way emoji.”

“He mentioned a Lo,” Janus said. “So, try him first.”

Virgil nodded. “I’ll put it on speaker.” He pressed some buttons before setting the phone on the desk between them.

The phone rang three times before with a bit of a crackle, it was answered. “Salutations,” a voice said, voice sounding a bit scratchy as though he had only just gotten up.

Virgil motioned with his head for Janus to speak. “Are you ‘Lo’?” he asked.

The man hummed. “To some people.”

Janus… didn’t quite know what to say to that, or even what questions he should ask.

“I’m assuming you’re the man that stole my associate’s phone.”

“Your associate?” Janus fished.

The man made an amused hum. “I believe you were calling him ‘Pat’ on your last adventure.” Janus could hear something being placed down on the other end of the phone. Before Janus could respond, he heard what sounded like an old keyboard being typed on. “Now,” Lo said. “I have to admit, I am surprised you were willing to oblige me so thoroughly by plugging the phone into your system. Let’s see…”

The screen on Virgil’s lit up bright blue all of a sudden. “…shit,” said Virgil.

“Well,” Lo said, “it seems you were clever enough not to plug it into the TPI system, which is disappointing, but…”

There was more clicking on the other end. “Hmm, interesting music tastes for the 4000s,” he said.

“I’m an anthropologist,” Virgil spoke up.

“Ah, yes, I can see that,” Lo replied. “Virgil Eran, senior professor at Silver Mountain University, a vetted member of the Cultural Outreach program, and searched the phrase ‘How to eat sushi without making a cultural blunder and making everyone hate you and losing your job because what kind of shit anthropologist doesn’t know how to eat raw fish right’ which you then shortened to ‘How to eat sushi’ and proceeded to search 52 times in the last 48 hours.”

Virgil went a bit scarlet around the ears. “Dude, did you really have to out me like that?” he hissed at the phone.

“My apologies,” Lo responded. “From my personal experience, don’t dip the rice parts in soy sauce, and don’t add too much wasabi. Overall, most people will be understanding of mistakes, and you will certainly not be fired or ostracized for handling food incorrectly. As long as you are not acting intentionally disrespectful, and I image you will not be considering your clear anxiety over whatever outing you are planning to attend, you will be fine.”

“Okay,” Virgil said. “Good point, but counterpoint, what if you’re wrong and everyone hates me forever?”

“Is it the lunch meeting today at 11:30am?” Lo asked, “because I can see that a Professor Boris Laden has attended the event multiple years in a row. Considering he is a philosophy instructor, has no Japanese heritage that I can see, and I have found a photo of last year’s event wherein he has placed his chopsticks vertically in his rice, and he has yet to be fired or ostracized, I would postulate that your fears are unfounded.”

“Yeah but… okay, I really don’t have an argument for that one, except maybe I’m a piece of shit and everyone is looking for a reason to hate me.”

“Considering your many impressive accolades in your field, I would argue that ‘a piece of shit’ is not a good descriptor of you. Not to mention the fact that you are often a highly requested member for different committees in your department and outside of it.”

“Oh, but is that because people like me or because I’m an anxious mess and make sure events go off without a hitch?”

“From experience, disorder with people you enjoy the company of is far more tolerable than order with people you do not. Which explains my current living situation and the lack of finished dishes in my sink. Therefore, I would assume the former.”

22735

“A lot of assumptions,” Virgil commented, but he was smiling slightly.

“Assumptions based on data,” Lo argued back lightly.

“You really came in here, hacked into my computer and smacked my anxiety in the face, huh?”

“Glad to have helped.”

“Y-”

“Are the two of you finished?” Janus interrupted, finally getting sick of the two of them.

“Not nearly,” Lo said. “I have gained access to an entire network of a very large university and will be sorting through the data for a long time.”

“Ugh, right,” Virgil groaned, “and you got access through my integrator.”

“I doubt they’ll be able to trace it back to you if you don’t tell them.”

“Nice try,” Virgil said dryly, “but not likely. I’m telling them about you immediately so they can work to kick you out.”

Lo laughed. “Fair enough, but I’ve already gotten plenty of information at this point. Including the fact that you work with the TPI and scheduled an appointment with an Agent Janus Picani this morning set to start a few minutes before this phone call. So, hello Janus.”

“Bastard,” Janus shot back.

“And goodbye Professor Eran. It was a pleasure.” He hung up.

Virgil sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “This is going to be fun to explain to both of our bosses.”

Arc II What We Do to Each Other

Chapter 16:

As it would turn out, Janus and Virgil did not get in trouble for hooking up the old phone to Virgil’s integrator, mostly because it wasn’t really a mistake on their part. The phone cleared all virus checks that the tech people both from the university and the TPI ran on it. The phone should have been clean and should not have caused an issue.

In fact, they were still trying to pin down the code on the general university server. They could tell that something was mucking about on the system but what or how was a mystery. This also meant that there was no telling what information had been compromised and considering how many things Silver Mountain had its hands in, that was… a bit worrying.

Another worrying thing was there was suddenly more activity of late at the TPI. There were more time distortions popping up every day. Usually they would be few and far in between. There had been 3 total recorded the year before, but over 12 in the last week. Some of them were fake like the one Janus had investigated, but some of them were real. It painted a distressing picture and also was a drain on their resources. Khalid was actually looking to advertise positions to hire new recruits which was something she rarely did as she liked to keep appointments to the TPI in house.

They’d even loosed the number of field agents needed for each mission and Janus and Remus had been splitting up just to get everything done. Today, he and Remus had thankfully only two missions scheduled for the day.

“Are we going together or separate today?” Janus asked Remus.

“Think they’ll burn me at the stake for being a witch if I go alone to either of them?” Remus asked.

“I don’t know. Probably. I think we’re getting a bit late into the 1700s for that in Cuba, but I have no idea about Mesopotamia.”

“Let’s just go together. I did not like almost drowning yesterday because I was the only stranger in town when the weather was going wonky.”

“Surely it isn’t because you opened your mouth. Ever.” Janus said dryly.

“How was I supposed to know he was the local clergyman’s son?”

Janus rolled his eyes. “On second thought,” he said, pushing a button on his desk to choose Cuba as he next mission, and standing up. “I don’t want you coming with me.” Yet, he did not protest when Remus also signed up for the Cuba mission and he waited for him by the office door before going to talk to Rhi.

Rhi was a bit frazzled when which meant quite a bit as she was usually incredibly put together. Remus didn’t even seem inclined to tease her today.

“Okay,” she said once they’d closed the door behind them. She flipped through some documents on her desk. “Picani and Clockson. Camaguey Cuba 1755. Do you know Cuba?”

“Uh,” Janus said. “Yeah?”

“Like you’re reading the things, right? I don’t have to babysit you, right? You got it? The Seven Year War was happening, but it won’t affect you much as it hasn’t really hit Cuba. It’s the middle of the Camaguey Carnival. Everyone will be everywhere and there will be chaos so as long as you don’t really fuck up you should be fine. Um…apparent races.” She looked up at them and studied them each for a moment as thought looking at them for the first time despite having known them for years. “It’ll work. Go to costuming.”

“Shouldn’t we…” Janus said, “sign things?”

“…Yep,” she said, fiddling with her desktop and then sending documents over to their side to sign.

Janus and Remus both did before sending them back.

“Great. Good.” She stood and grabbed some things from behind her. “You can go.” She sat back down as they took their things and Janus noticed a message pop up on her desk. She looked up at Remus looking exhausted. “What?” she asked.

“Just open it,” Remus said.

Rhi tapped it and a photo opened.

“I got her a new mouse toy!” Remus said happily as Rhi looked at the picture of Diesel Fuel attacking a cloth mouse.

“That is… appreciated Agent Clockson,” Rhi said. “Now get out.”

They did, leaving to get their costumes on and checked. Costuming was just as busy and frazzled as Rhi had been and they actually had to wait for decon because there’d been a mix up with the agents leaving before them. They landed in Cuba without issue. Janus could already hear the festival in full swing outside the small building they’d were in. Remy was standing there with a very not time appropriate mug of coffee.

“Sue me,” Remy said when Janus raised an eyebrow at it. “Please just… get in and out without causing trouble. Seriously. I don’t want to have to deal with that on top of everything else.”

“We’ll do our best,” Janus assured.

Remy pulled his sunglasses down to look at him. He looked exhausted. “God please do more than your best.”

Janus nodded tightly. “We’ll be in and out,” he said, already glancing at his timepiece. It had been disguised as a golden bracelet which made it a bit harder to actually use, but wrist watches wouldn’t be invented for more than a century, so they’d have to make do. “The time distortion, if that’s what it is, should be in the middle of town. Let’s go.”

He and Remus exited the building onto the packed city street.

Janus was immediately bombarded with all types of sights, sounds, and smells. There were many colorful articles of clothing and costumes as people went every which way along the street talking to other members of their community, playing instruments, and dancing. There was the sound of people speaking Spanish, still mostly almost pure Castilian Spanish with perhaps a bit of influence from Taino as the Haitian revolution had yet to push the Creole language over to Cuba. People must have been hard at work cooking different dishes for the carnival as many different spices wafted through the air. It was sticky hot considering it was the middle of June in the tropics and Janus was immediately sweating despite the temperature appropriate clothing he’d been outfitted with.

He glanced around their immediate area, just scoping out the crowds. His eyes were immediately drawn to one person near them.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” he said out loud when he saw Pat. Remus looked in the direction Janus was.

Even if Janus didn’t recognize him the moment he laid eyes on him, he probably still would have ended up staring as he was the only person in the area who clearly did not know how to do the dance he was attempting.

Remus snorted and Janus shook his head in secondhand embarrassment. “Well, would you look whose boyfriend’s here,” he said to Janus. Make that firsthand embarrassment. “Has anyone told him the Mambo wasn’t invented until the 1900s and also that’s not how you do it?”

Chapter 17

Pat stopped dancing the moment he saw Janus approaching him, but he still bobbed cheerfully ( and unrhythmically) to the music. “Hi Janus,” he said pleasantly.

“You just have to rub it in, huh?”

There was a flash of confusion across his face, but then he smiled. “Well, I know where in our relationship you are. How was France?”

“You’re a bastard.”

“You stole the phone,” he laughed.

“You stole the bomb,” Janus countered, “and you wanted me to steal the phone. You booby trapped it.”

“No,” Pat correct, putting a finger up. “We have security on my phone because in high school I once forgot it in the school locker room and long story short, the three of us ended up in a lake. So, then Lo made sure I always had some sort of tracker on it. When I started time traveling, he updated it and when I met you we updated it again in case there was ever an opportunity like that. Lo calls it using our weaknesses to our advantage.”

“He’s a bastard too,” Janus growled.

Pat just laughed.

“Is someone talking about me?” Remus asked, stepping over to them. Janus rolled his eyes.

“Oh,” Patton said, blinking at Janus’s partner for a moment. “Remus.” He hesitated slightly. “How are you doing?”

“Me?” Remus asked. “Uh, I’m doing good. A little stressed out with work, but fine.”

“Good,” Pat said with just a little too much heartfulness to it.

“What?” Janus asked, eyes narrowed at Pat. “What is that?”

“What is what?” Pat asked. He met Janus’s eyes briefly and it made panic surge up Janus’s spine because the look Pat was sending him wasn’t one that said he was playing dumb. It was a warning.

Oh, Janus did not like this. That look told Janus Pat had some foreknowledge that he absolutely could not tell Janus about without messing up the timeline spectacularly. This was why this mess the two of them were mixed up in was so bad, but it seemed Janus did not have much of a choice when it came to Pat.

Despite how bad of an idea he knew it was, he still wanted to push, because whatever Pat was hiding could be very, very bad and it had to do with Remus. There were so many reasons Pat could be acting like that around Remus, but the worst ones were definitely the ones on his mind. Death, injury, illness. They were all possible especially in their line of work and especially with how time was being screwed with right now. And Pat knew. He knew exactly what the answer was, and oh did Janus want to push.

Experience knowing what worse things could come out of having foreknowledge made Janus bite his tongue.

“So, what are you two doing here,” Pat asked, and Janus unhappily let him change the subject.

“Oh, like you don’t know,” Janus replied.

“I don’t know,” Pat said innocently.

“There’s another time distortion,” Janus said, “and while you didn’t know what it was the last time I saw you, I’m pretty sure you do now.”

“Oh, I didn’t know there was a time distortion here. I can help you if you like,” he offered sweetly.

“Oh, yeah, sure. Then why are you here?”

“I wanted to see if I could find the Flying Dutchman,” Patton told him.

“And so you went to Camaguey?”

“Uh huh.”

“One of the farthest places from the ocean in Cuba?”

“Is it?”

“I don’t trust you.”

Pat just shrugged. “Well, if you don’t want my help finding the time distortion, I’ll just be on my way then.”

“Wait,” he said when Pat went to turn away. Pat paused. Janus turned to Remus. “Remus, do you think he’s bullshitting me so I let him wander off and do whatever the hell he’s doing, or do you think he’s bullshitting me into letting him come with us.”

“Hmm,” Remus said, looking Pat up and down. Janus could immediately tell he wasn’t going to get any helpful answer. “Well, if we’re going with the how much do I get to see his, admittedly very sexy, ass criteria.” Janus pinched the bridge of his nose. “Letting him leave now means instant gratification and a nice full image when he turns away. However, letting him go with us means many more opportunities to get a glimpse, but they’d probably just be glimpses. So, yeah that’s a tough call.”

“You didn’t even bother to give me an actual hidden suggestion with that bullshit,” Janus groaned. He glanced at Pat only to see him hiding his very red face in his hands. Janus blinked. “Oh,” he said. “You got him, Remus.” Janus was surprised. He’d expected a bit more tenacity for someone with Pat’s personality. Of course, Janus was used to Remus, so that perhaps had some effect. Pat made a muffled distressed sound behind his hands and Janus raised an eyebrow. “You really got him.”

Pat flapped one hand around while still using the other to completely hide his face. “It’s just. His face. Saying that. Is weird.”

Janus could not say that he didn’t feel a slight spark of joy at seeing Pat flustered. After all, Pat’s weapon of choice had often been flirting with Janus in the past. However, he still smacked Remus on the shoulder when it looked like he was about to continue with something likely far more inappropriate. “We are here for a reason,” he reminded. He turned to consider Pat and squinted at him. “You’re coming with us, I’ve decided. I don’t want to let you out of my sights. Don’t,” he said empathically turning to Remus as the man opened his mouth once more.

Pat had mostly recovered, though his cheeks were just a bit pink still. “Yeah,” he said. “I’ll go with you. Where do we start?”

Janus glanced at his timepiece. “It’s not showing up on our trackers yet.”

“It messed with your tracker last time,” Pat pointed out.

“I know,” Janus said. “Which means it could be another fake one or whatever is causing it hasn’t started yet. If things start going wrong, but it still doesn’t show on our radar, it’s almost certainly a fake one, but some of the fake ones haven’t blocked our technology.”

“Here, I can check,” Pat said.

“Please don’t pull out an iPhone,” Janus begged.

Pat stuck out his tongue at him, and then smiled. He reached for the bracelet on his wrist and twisted it back and forth a few times before pressing his palms together. He glanced around them quickly to make sure no one around them was watching and then peeled apart his palms like he was miming reading a book.

“What the fuck is that, and how do I get one?” Remus asked immediately. It was innocuous, whatever it was. If someone from this time caught a glimpse of the display, they’d likely assume it was a trick of the light, but staring right at it, Janus could tell it was a map of the surrounding areas with a softly glowing blue light marking their current location. Janus could see no screen or origin of a hologram. It looked like the image was drawn onto the man’s palms, but as he watched, the image shifted to zoom out.

#study break stories #not writing

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movedyoakkemae · 4 years ago

Text

ignore me, i’m archiving this thread bc... i love it. DO NOT REBLOG.

kid ( @kaivoleur ) & conan.

kid:

“ Have we talked about the moral implications and-or ramifications of putting infants in consistent, casual proximity with criminals and corpses yet? ”

conan:

conan tilts his head, almost birdlike, to the side upon that remark, briefly uncertain whether or not kid is making a joke about his stature and the rate of which he sees homicide cases or if he’s talking about the shōnentantei-dan and their current propensity to witness murders even WITHOUT conan in the direct vicinity.

deciding to take it as the latter, he remarks with much self-recrimination, ‘ the kids are pretty good at bouncing back now – better than they did even a few months ago, but, yeah, i do wish they weren’t quite getting so used to it. dad used to take me to crime scenes when i was their age, but i definitely didn’t see the variety and intensity of crimes at the same frequency they did at their age. ’

a wry grin touches his lips as he states, ‘ – y’know, they’ve even taken to talking about murder cases they’ve witnessed over lunch now ? nothing’s quite like hearing those three talk about the best ways they’ve seen a body being dumped – either through hydrochloric acid, chopping the body to pieces, or even just dumping a body into a river – while the other kids and our teacher are hanging onto their every word. those kids are going to be scary once they’re our age. ’

( he’s also continuously widely surprised that their parents would still let them go onto trips with him and agasa-hakase. conan’s pretty sure most parents would have IMMEDIATELY told the kids never to talk to conan again. he’s glad they didn’t because as much as the kids annoy him, he does genuinely like them, but… still. it probably would have been better for them to have been cut off from conan earlier on when witnessing one crime would have been in a once in a blue moon experience instead of literally every time they went on one of their weekly outings. )

kid:

KID hadn’t expected a serious reply, but that isn’t to say he’s not prepared for it. He quirks a brow at ‘ our age ’ and debates the merits of correcting the detective — on one hand, quipping about Conan’s current state is never not funny, but on the other, he’d really prefer to try and complete the night without getting a soccer ball power-kicked to his face, so.

“ Detectiveness must be infectious, ” he says instead, because he’s not in a particularly dodgy mood. First officers, then teens, and now children; he’s never going to be free of them, huh? The thought brings a smile to his face — he wouldn’t have it any other way, of course. The chase is pointless if it doesn’t attract attention, and ( even worse ) boring if some do-gooder isn’t trying to get in his way. “ I’m not going to have to deal with them on a regular basis, am I? I think even one tiny detective is grating enough on Nakamori-keibu’s nerves. ”

The thief doesn’t even want to think of what a group of five infuriatingly sharp children would do to the old man. ( Wait. Five? He pauses for a split instant, turning the detective’s words over in his head — he’d definitely said three, and three-plus-one… is one short. Hm. A thought for later, then. )

“ Hopefully, by the time they reach my age, we’ll both have everything… figured out, ” KID muses, a hint of a grin reaching his eyes. “ Not that I don’t enjoy all you young detectives making valiant attempts to slow me down, of course, but you know how it is. ” Probably not, but KID makes no further effort to explain.

conan:

‘ a “regular” basis ? probably not. your heists usually run too late at night, and their parents tend to be pretty good at setting a bedtime for them. ’ he’s pretty sure ran’s given up on setting him a bedtime considering all of the cases he takes and how some of them may last into the middle of the night. ‘ and i think nakamori-keibu is getting used to me. ’

he hadn’t been at first – in fact, nakamori-keibu had been downright hostile to the occasional addition of conan to the ranks, but, well, one can’t deny constant results. he’s pretty sure nakamori-keibu likes conan better than shinichi, at any rate, but, to be fair, shinichi only appeared once and immediately assumed control of the officers. conan’s only just come the closest to catching kid and getting jewels back as quickly as possible.

conan rolls his eyes at kid’s unsubtle emphasis of separating their ages ( and, as such, picking fun of conan’s current predicament. if it wasn’t for the fact that he’s pretty sure kid doesn’t know the full story, he’d get a lot more pissed than he does ). ‘ just for that, i’m making sure the others get new watches, belts, and shoes, ’ he threatens.

but, after a pause and the amused look crossing his face, it’s clear that conan has realised what an interesting and entertaining idea it would probably make. after all, the shōnentantei-dan were getting better at traps all the time, and, well, their soccer skills have also gotten better too just by playing with conan all of the time. hm… he might owe haibara a purse or something, but it might be worth it just to see kid having to dodge five high speed soccer balls.

kid:

“ I’m surprised you haven’t taught them your curfew-eschewing ways yet, ” KID remarks blandly, tucking his hands into his pockets. He’s been tempted multiple times to push the heist back further into the night — mostly because a sleepy Task Force is an easier to handle Task Force — but he really needs the crowds of an accessible hour to pull off some of his best tricks. ( Besides, much as he declines to admit it, he does need sleep too. Sometimes. When he doesn’t have anything else to do. So never, basically. )

Maybe if he got more sleep, he wouldn’t be accidentally inspiring his critics with awful, no-good, very bad ideas. One tantei-kun is enough, thank you very much, he doesn’t need an entire entourage of children power-kicking soccer balls at him. KID manages to suppress a shudder at the thought, merely letting his grin ice over a mere degree.

“ Don’t even think about it, ” he says with just a hint of dourness, although it’s obviously a little too late for that. “ Holding heists at reasonable hours is not worth getting pelted by a hail of weaponized sports equipment. Don’t make me push heists back to 3 AM and cheerfully let Nakamori-keibu know it’s your fault he’s not getting his much-needed beauty sleep. Hakuba would probably actively attempt to murder me, too, ” he adds as an afterthought. Especially if he did it during finals week — ooh, but now that thought’s tempting. Kaito doesn’t particularly need to excel, he just needs to pass, and he could do that in his sleep; Hakuba, however… Well. He can’t imagine the detective settling for anything less than his own best work. “ Hey, if I ever get murdered at my own heist, would you still investigate it? ”

It’s a question he voices with the light-hearted tone of a joke, but something in his expression — shifts, his gaze sharpening. As though halfway through the question, he’d realized what had actually come out of his mouth, and for an instant it’s not Hakuba on mind but Snake and a sniper’s scope. But the words weigh too heavily for his liking, so he pushes on with somewhat less-than-natural joviality, “ Or does being a criminal excuse me from your jurisdiction or whatever? I don’t know how you detectives work. ” ( A lie, for the most part. )

conan:

conan waves a hand as if to wipe the idea from both of their brains. ‘ you already know about it, so it wouldn’t make for such a good trap anymore anyway, and you’d be careful to look out for new watches, belts, and shoes for the kids. ’ now, the task force, on the other hand… that was definitely an idea to save for later.

( he also notes the slight familiarity of kid calling him “hakuba”. nakamori-keibu gets, well, “nakamori-keibu”, and conan gets “tantei-kun” and, on occasion, “meitantei”, so why does hakuba get called by his last name ? it may be nothing, but he notes it either way. ).

“hey, if i ever get murdered at my own heist, would you still investigate it?” the question seems light-hearted, coming from kid’s lips, a laugh at his own morality perhaps, but there’s something in his expression that shifts. conan’s eyes immediately narrow at the clue – it’s genuine, that shift of expression, judging from how kid tries to falsely lighten the air with, “or does being a criminal excuse me from your jurisdiction or whatever? i don’t know how you detectives work.”

he had heard rumours of unidentified criminals moving around at kid heists, but he hadn’t personally seen any sign of them, so he had just dismissed them as rumours. now, conan wonders if he shouldn’t have. something to look into, definitely. if someone was trying to kill kid, in a way that he apparently thinks is possible given the question, conan needs to put a stop to it yesterday.

‘ idiot, ’ he deadpans, affecting an annoyed appearance, as if insulted by the question. ‘ if someone – however unlikely – managed to kill you, i’d hunt them down and make sure they’d get arrested. it doesn’t matter to me if you’re a thief or not – murder takes precedence over thieves any day, and criminals don’t deserve to die, no matter what th – anyone – might think. ’

the slip comes from remembering asō seiji… they had murdered so many people, and still… conan had tried so hard ( and failed ) to save them.

( he has to close his eyes against the sudden memory of heat, and the same haunting tune playing in his ears. it’s a failure that still tastes bitter in his mouth, ash and smoke from the fire choking his lungs. shinichi thinks, for however long he’ll be alive, he’d never listen to moonlight sonata in the same way ever again ).

kid:

A laugh bubbles up to KID’s lips but doesn’t quite make it out of his mouth ( he could not say why, himself; relief? exasperation? he doesn’t know from where the laughter rises but he refuses to let it breach the surface ), and he wonders for a moment what the detective had been about to say before ‘ anyone ’ — but he lets him have his secrets, in the end. The thief lets only an amused breath escape, rocking his weight slightly, as though to leave, because this is already too much exposed in a single confrontation and he should leave before he lets himself slip too far. Or farther; maybe this is already too much.

But when the little detective closes his eyes, the thief holds himself still, because all of the sudden it is not the hilarity of his own possible doom that lingers over his thoughts. Rather, abject horror sours his amusement because if Conan goes after the crows at his heists, if he tips the balance so carefully maintained in the heists and manages to corner them…

Snake may be incompetent, but he’s still got BITE, and wild things are always most vicious with their backs to a wall.

( Meitantei is brilliant. But so was Toichi, before he burned. )

“ Mm, good to know. But don’t hold your breath, ” KID says breezily, tearing his mind away from the old, old memory. “ I don’t plan on dying anytime soon. Try not to jump at shadows too much in the meantime, tantei-kun ~ ” He waits and makes sure to meet the detective’s gaze as he speaks, trying to convey the unspoken warning; just because he’d nudged a bit of confirmation about the… dangers associated with his moonlighting, doesn’t mean he wants Conan diving headfirst into it.

This is KID’s territory, and he’s got first dibs, so to speak. His way is a bit of a balancing act, trying to slowly key his critics in on what’s going on without alarming them or alarming Them, but maybe with this step, he can get a little closer to that end goal.

With a flick of the wrist, he reveals a grey marble in the palm of his hand. He lets it slip from his fingers, and when it hits the ground, it erupts in a cloud of smoke — and by the time that clears, KID’s gone.

#tbt.#i... miss star :pensive:#god this thread was SO GOOD why isn't my writing like this now LKJALSKDJFLA

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ghostspideys-moved · 4 years ago

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All For The Best

Chapter Eight

A/N: I’m actually pretty proud of this chapter. Don’t forget to leave a comment or reblog if you’ve been enjoying this ride so far.

Word Count: 2.7k

Pairings: Steve Harrington x OC, Nancy Wheeler x Jonathan Byers x OC

Summary: While El looks for the flayed, Hawthorne reveals a secret he’s been keeping in for a long time.

Somehow, Hawthorne was stuck sitting in the waiting room, watching over the kids. He supposed someone had to look after them, especially since Nancy and Jonathan decided they’d be the ones to visit Mrs. Driscoll.

He was sitting next to El, who was reading a magazine, mostly flipping through and glancing at the pictures. He’d already heard about her break up with Mike, and he didn’t need to be able to read her mind to know it was bothering her. Especially when he’d caught her glancing over in Mike’s direction a few times.

“How are you holding up?” Hawthorne asked. El glanced up at him, a confused look on her face. “You know, with you and Mike?”

El shrugged. “Okay.”

As she turned back to her magazine, he debated exactly how to help her out. It wasn’t exactly Mike’s fault, though he hadn’t been the smartest either. Hawthorne remembered what Hopper said about his “talk” with Mike, and he couldn’t help feeling that was the real problem here. Not that he was surprised. Even he was a bit annoyed with Hopper handling this the way he had.

“You know, I think you two should talk,” he finally said. “I mean, you both seem miserable without each other?”

“Miserable?” El set her magazine down, clearly wondering what he was getting at.

“You know, like...sad. But, like, really sad,” Hawthorne explained. “If you two don’t talk to each other, I’m sure it could get a lot worse.”

She at least appeared to be considering her words. Sure, he didn’t know how solid his own advice was, but he was a little tired of watching them tip-toe around each other. He could practically see the wheels turning in her head. “Like Nancy and Jonathan.”

Hawthorne sighed, slumping in his seat. “Yeah, something like that,” he said. “They’re working it out, but it happens. Fights happen.” It wasn’t like he was some expert on relationships, and he didn’t really know where all of this was coming from, but he hoped it was helping her, even if only a bit.

Turning to her, Hawthorne gave El a reassuring smile. “Just don’t hold a grudge against him, okay? Most guys your age do dumb things.” He was glad that part earned a laugh from her. “Hell, I do dumb things all the time.”

For all his attempts to keep Nancy and Jonathan together, it was taking a toll on him. And, though it was taking some time, it seemed like the two of them were finally making progress. There was still some understanding needing to be reached, but it was something. He didn’t plan on mediating forever. Eventually, they’d have to own up to their own mistakes - they both had some apologizing to do, he was sure - and he was just glad to help kick-start the process. If anything, he didn’t want El and Mike to let this sour their relationship. They were kids, and they deserved to learn from their mistakes just as much as anyone else.

Hawthorne let his advice sink in and left when Mike came over to talk with El. He was more than happy to give them space to work things out, though he made a mental note to have a talk with Hopper about the mess he’d made.

By now, he was starting to realize Nancy and Jonathan had been gone for a while. And maybe there was nothing to worry about, but he had an awful feeling. It was sitting in his gut, constantly pestering him. With how easily things went to shit again, Hawthorne hoped they were okay. It occurred to him to check on them, but there was no way he was going to get past the receptionist. And if he did manage that and it turned out he was worrying for nothing, he would just feel like an idiot.

Just as his anxiety was starting to get the best of him, the lights started flickering. Normally, Hawthorne might pass it off as nothing, but that usually wasn’t a good sign. He’d learned that by now. Thankfully, he wasn’t the only one to notice, and even worse was how jumpy Will was. The poor kid looked pale and unbelievably freaked out. It was becoming abundantly clear to Hawthorne that he may well have been right to be worried.

Will’s shaky, “he’s here,” was enough for it to dawn on Hawthorne that this was about to get pretty intense, as much as he hated it.

At the very least, they’d missed the action so far, but neither Nancy nor Jonathan looked like they were in very good shape. And as soon as they explained everything that happened, they were off to the cabin.

Rex came running over when Hawthorne let them all inside, and El ended up locking herself in her room as she tried to track the flayed. Hawthorne tried to busy himself with feeding Rex while everyone else was working out their plans. In the grand scheme of things, he wasn’t sure how to help, and he felt pretty useless. He’d hardly done anything to help. If only he could stop being a coward for just a minute, he might be able to contribute something.

He’d been so deep in thought that he’d accidentally spilled some of the dog food. His only response was a deep sigh as he moved to clean it up. Hawthorne looked up when he noticed Nancy trying to help. She opened her mouth to speak a few times, trying to find her words.

“Are you okay?” Nancy asked.

If there were any words to describe how he was feeling, “okay” was not one of them. “Fine,” Hawthorne lied, standing again.

It was clear she didn’t totally believe him. Even when they finished cleaning, she didn’t let up. “If this about what’s been happening between Jonathan and I, I’m really sorry you got caught in the middle of it.”

Sure, that might have been part of his stress, but he had no clue how to even explain everything that was going on in his head. It was so much more than that.

“No. I mean, not really.” Hawthorne sighed, looking down. “I guess I’m just stressed out with everything that’s been happening. After last time, I really hoped all of this was behind on.”

The concerned look on her face only made him feel bad for putting all of this on her. Nancy had much bigger things to worry about. Seeming to sense his apprehension, she took his hand and made him look her in the eyes.

“Everything’s gonna be fine, okay?” Whether it was true or not, he almost believed her. “We’ll get through this just like last time.”

“Nance, I don’t even know where my sister is, or if she’s even okay. I don’t know where Hop is either, and I feel like I’m doing a terrible job of keeping it together.”

Nancy paused for a moment before asking, “You saw it, didn’t you? When you were walking in the parking lot?”

Hawthorne had almost forgotten about his vision, but he could never forget the dread he felt in that moment. “Yeah. It wasn’t much, really,” he admitted. “But I freaked out.” If it came down to it, he wasn’t sure if he’d really be able to help any of them. This was worse than last year, and he just knew that, given the chance, he’d freeze. Just like he always did.

Somehow, Nancy always had a way of making him feel better, and this was no exception. “You’re stressing yourself out too much,” she said. “Don’t forget. You’re not alone. You have me, Jonathan, the kids, your family. None of us will ever make you deal with this alone.”

Deep down, he knew that. It felt good to hear it, though. Sometimes, he needed a reminder that he wasn’t carrying all of this weight alone.

Hawthorne offered a slight smile as she kissed him on the cheek. Now that he was feeling at least somewhat better, he let her get back to planning. He let her borrow the phone in the meantime, and he actually managed to feed Rex. The poor dog probably needed it. Hawthorne was feeding him as regularly as possible in all this mess, but he felt bad for leaving him for so long every now and then.

Just as Hawthorne was settled, Nancy finished her final phone call, none of which produced any results. It wasn’t looking so good. With no clue where any of the flayed were, they had no clue what they were doing. It was like they’d just disappeared, and they weren’t any closer to finding the source of the flaying.

Worse still was the argument happening between Mike and Max. Hawthorne didn’t feel so inclined to agree with either of them, no matter how much they yelled. Realistically, both of them were right. He’d learned the hard way that even if they explained to El how damaging it could be to push herself, that didn’t mean it would stop her. Mike was very adamant on finding a new plan, though, and Hawthorne couldn’t blame him. El had been locked up for quite some time now looking for the flayed.

“You’re treating her like some kind of machine when she’s not a machine, and I don’t want her to die looking for the flayed when they’ve obviously vanished off the face of the earth,” Mike snapped. “So can we please just come up with a new plan? Because I love her, and I can’t lose her again.”

His words were met with silence as they sank in. Hawthorne could hardly believe what he’d heard, but Mike said it with such confidence and conviction that it was almost frightening.

Before anyone could say more, El finally came out of her room. She looked fine, if not a bit exhausted, and Hawthorne thanked whatever omnipotent being there may or may not be that she was okay.

“What’s going on?” El asked, glancing at each of them curiously.

Mike was quick to cover for them. “Nothing. Nothing.”

“Just a family discussion,” Lucas added.

“Oh.” El seemed satisfied enough with their answer, even if she didn’t totally believe it. “I found him.”

El usually needed some quiet when she was tracking. The TV was turned on, only playing static for her, and her blindfold was back on. Everyone was trying to stay quiet for her sake in the hopes she would find something.

Thankfully, she found Billy, just like she’d said, though they didn’t have much to go off of with the information she had. He was sitting in his room, which Max confirmed wasn’t normal. It was clearly a trap.

But El was insistent that she might know a way to figure out where he’d been, and while Hawthorne didn’t want her to push herself, he knew it was the only way to get anywhere. They hadn’t been having any success on their own.

After taking a break, El put the blindfold back on and tried to look again.

Hawthorne sighed and sat back while she gave it another go. “So, what do we do if this doesn’t work?” he asked quietly, trying not to bother El.

“Don’t you have powers?” Mike asked. “Can’t you help somehow?”

Nancy gave him a stern look. “Mike.”

“We’ve never seen him use them. Maybe he just doesn’t have any,” Lucas said.

“If they took him to the lab, he has to have them.”

Hawthorne raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, hi. Standing right here.”

“Well, do you?” Mike asked.

There was no way around this. Hawthorne was going to have to explain himself eventually, and he knew that.

“Yeah. It’s just...not a good idea for me to use them,” he claimed.

“But whatever it is you can do, it might help El.”

“I haven’t used them in years. The last time I did that things went wrong.”

“We can’t push everything onto her, though. She’s going to wear herself out.”

“You told her you’d trust her, though.”

“And I do, but I know she could use the help.”

Max finally cut in. “Okay, seriously. You’re gonna break El’s concentration.”

Hawthorne and Mike finally shut up, but they gave each other one last look of disdain. Nancy pulled him and Jonathan over to the kitchen where they wouldn’t bother El.

“Hey, don’t worry about him, okay? He’s just worried,” she said.

Hawthorne sighed, leaning against the counter. “I know. I get it,” he replied. “I’m just as worried she’s going to wear herself thin, but I don’t think I’d even be all that helpful.”

“What happened the last time you used your powers?” Jonathan asked. “It sounded like it was pretty bad.”

That felt like the understatement of the year. But if he trusted anyone with this, it was both of them. He might as well get it off his chest.

“I just...they made us do a lot of tests, you know? The scientists liked to up the stakes each time, and they’d already learned a lot about my powers. I really just tried to go along with what they asked of me because it was better that way.” Hawthorne swallowed dryly. “Whenever I touch people - any sort of skin contact - I absorb their strength, memories, abilities, sometimes even pieces of their personality. But it always wears off eventually, and they just pass out until it wears off.

“One time, I guess the scientists were curious what would happen if I tried it on one of the other kids. Maybe I could absorb their powers. And they were right. It worked the first few times, and it only lasted about half an hour at most. They’d always be fine afterwards. But one time, it didn’t go that way at all. There was this kid they had me try it out on and-” Hawthorne almost couldn’t finish, but he dismissed their looks of concern, trying to press on. “It didn’t wear off that time. And he went into a coma. Pretty sure he didn’t make it.”

Jonathan placed a hand on his shoulder, giving him a reassuring look. “How long did it take to wear off?” he asked.

“It didn’t.” Hawthorne avoided their eyes, knowing he’d break down otherwise. “I still have his powers. I don’t use them, but I could any time. It’s kind of been eating at me.”

They shared a look, almost seeming to debate if they should ask him anything else. But he knew they’d stop if he really asked them to.

Nancy finally braved one more question. “What exactly were his powers?”

Hawthorne hesitated. “Shapeshifting.”

In his mind, it wasn’t anything monumental. Nor was it going to do them any good. And while he had his powers mostly under control by now, he wasn’t sure how he’d feel about knocking anyone else out if he didn’t have to.

Before he could go into it any further, El announced she’d found the source. They raced over as Max asked where it was.

“Brimborn...Steelworks.”

Jonathan grabbed the phone book and flipped through the pages in a hurry. “Found it. 6522 Cherry Oak Drive.”

“That’s close,” Nancy realized.

El still hadn’t come back yet, which was beyond worrying. Mike was trying to call her back, but it didn’t seem like she could just yet. There wasn’t anything they could do to bring her back. She had to do it herself, but it didn’t look like she was ready yet.

The room went silent as they waited hopefully for her to get out of there. El finally threw off the blindfold, screaming.

Hawthorne felt his heart sink when she started crying, throwing herself into Mike’s arms. He raced back to the kitchen and grabbed her a glass of water as Mike calmed her down. They made her sit down and take a drink, giving her enough time to bounce back from whatever she saw.

Hawthorne was taken by surprise as she clung onto him, clearly exhausted and scared beyond belief. He tried to calm her down, wrapping his arms around her as he let her cry. If he was having any doubts before, they were only growing and settling in his mind, but he would never back out on any of them, but least of all El. Mike had been right about her needing all the help she could get.

Taglist: @charmedtenderness @nxncywheeler @koibecomedragons

#steve harrington #jonathan byers #nancy wheeler #steve harrington x oc #steve harrington x original character #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington one shot #jonathan byers x oc #jonathan byers x original character #jonathan byers x reader #nancy wheeler x oc #nancy wheeler x original character #nancy wheeler x reader #stranger things #stranger things 2 #stranger things 3 #stranger things fic

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elizabethemerald · 5 years ago

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Eternal Night Redux: Finale

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6

AO3

Please please reblog!

The Hearthstone once more hummed with energy. Throughout the past few months it had slowly recovered from Gunmar draining it. Jim was delighted to see it once again to its previous healthy glow.

Since Gunmar's defeat at the hand of the Trollhunters, Trollmarket had been constantly busy. Ambassadors from various troll tribes had been constantly coming and going. They were all working to solidify the tenuous peace that had been established.

There was still tension between different groups. The trolls of Trollmarket disliked the trolls from Gato's Keep since they refused to come in their hour of need. Many of the trolls still hated and distrusted the changelings, and the surviving members of the Janus order returned those feelings in spades.

Angor was still feared even by some of the trolls who had fought alongside him. And the former assassin still harbored many ill feelings for Strickler. Jim did his best to keep those two apart as much as possible.

Even with tensions still running high between groups and between individuals they were all still gathered again. Trollmarket was filled with all manner of trolls, Krubera, Quagawump, changeling, and the survivors of old Trollmarket. The troll and changeling armies were waiting outside the Heartstone, just in case things went poorly within.

Jim marched into the Heartstone with the Staff of Avalon in his hand. Claire and Toby were on either side of him. The rest of his growing family followed behind.

"I must insist again that this plan is folly!" Merlin's gravely voice called forward from the back of the group.

"Enough Merlin! We've discussed and debated this point back and forth in circles ever since we killed Gunmar."

Merlin took a breath to argue but Toby spoke over him.

"Yeah shut up beetle brows." Toby shouted back. "You've done nothing but complain literally since we woke you up."

Merlin pushed past the others and out his arm on Claire's shoulder. "Perhaps the fair Claire-"

"Do you want to get punched again?" Claire smacked his hand off her shoulder. "Because I feel like calling me 'fair Claire' again is a sure fire way to get punched again."

Merlin flapped his mouth like a fish for a moment, and Jim swirled around to face him.

"We've already decided. If she is going to be an enemy and try to kill us all when she gets out, that outcome will be the same whether we release her now or she breaks free a thousand years from now. At least now we are as prepared as we can be for a fight." Jim turned and led the way down the stairs as he talked. "However if there is any chance to talk her down we have to do it now. We can't just wait till it's convenient."

They pushed forward and spread out into the prison chamber. Jim strode toward the center, beneath Morgana's form, frozen in the stone. With a resounding click he pushed the staff into its home in the key hole.

Jim looked past the staff to Morgana. If she decided to kill them all it would be the fight of their lives to get out of this chamber. He was sure that some of them would die here if it came to that. He didn't know if he could bare losing anyone here, maybe Merlin was right and this was a bad idea.

As he wrestled for a moment with his indecision he felt a hand fall on each of his shoulders. Toby and Claire had moved forward with him. They each had one hand on the staff and one on his shoulders.

Jim leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Claire's lips, then turned and pressed one to Toby's as well. He took just a moment to breath in the same space as them, his eyes closed before he steeled his back.

"Together?" He asked them.

"Together." They said as one.

Jim wrapped both of his hands around the Staff of Avalon and with Claire and Toby speaking in the same breath as him, said the enchantment that would free the Eldritch Queen.

They carefully aimed the green beam that blasted out from the staff at the hanging crystal. It only took a moment before the crystal shattered. Jim summoned his helmet to protect his face and his shield to protect Claire and Toby's.

The bits of stone froze in mid air before flying back towards the now free Morgana. Jim resisted the urge to draw his sword as she hovered slowly downward. Toby and Claire both had their collapsed weapons in their hands, they were trying not look threatening, but they didn't want to be taken by surprise. Jim stepped forward toward the golden armored woman.

"Morgana! We have freed you in a bid for peace." Jim said. His voice took on a commanding air that still took him by surprise, though the others had come to expect it.

Morgana did not reply instead she swept her gaze over those gathered here. Jim worried for a moment whether she understood him, and was about to try again in Trollish. Before he could the gravely voice he had come to dread spoke up.

"Like I said, it is foolish to trust her!" Merlin stepped forward his sword in hand.

Before anyone could react to stop him, golden glyphs appeared around Morgana's emerald hand. The magic blast knocked Merlin back into the wall. Jim hesitated for a moment waiting for any other magic attack.

"We'll go ahead and give you that one, but we would like to talk peace."

"You dare try and talk to me about peace?" Morgana's voice reverberated in the room. "You want to talk about peace while you are wearing the amulet forged from my hand!"

Jim had to stop himself from taking a step back from the force of her fury. He mentally berated himself. Wearing the armor put a serious dent in his negotiation ability. He was surprised when Claire stepped forward, boldly facing the Eldritch Queen.

"If you don't want to talk peace with Jim, then talk peace with me!" Claire's voice took on the same magical quality as Morgana's as she spoke. "You possessed me! Tried to destroy my soul! Tried to kill my boyfriend!"

As she spoke Morgana slowly floated lower till she was standing on the ground. She still towered over the children, but at least she wasn't blasting them apart. Jim couldn't help but notice that she was easily the tallest non troll in the room.

"I have every right to hate you!" Claire continued. "To want you dead for what you did to me! But I want to offer a chance to end the fighting! To end the bloodshed that has stretched back who knows how many thousands of years."

Morgana looked at her closely, her face closed off and unreadable. She studied every line and curve of Claire's face. Whatever she was looking for she seemed to find because she nodded to herself, then settled into a floating seated position.

"Very well my child. Let's talk of peace."

A sigh ran through the room as if every person there had been holding their breath. Claire sat down on the floor in front of her and Morgana floated lower till they were on the same level.

"My partners will join me in these talks." Claire said. "Jim will represent the needs of Troll kind. Toby will represent the humans, both those in the town above and in the rest of the world."

Jim stepped forward and sat beside Claire. Toby sat on her other side. In an effort to show their earnestness Jim pulled at the amulet on his chest, allowing his armor to return to light. He pocketed the amulet. Toby set his collapsed warhammer aside as well.

"It would seem I'm outnumbered at these talks. Would no one join me?" Morgana turned aside and addressed the rest of those gathered in the room. "My champion?"

Angor growled reflexively from where he had been leaning against one of the walls. "I am no longer your champion!"

"No. I suppose not." For the first time an expression other than fury could be seen on her face. Jim could clearly see it as a deep sadness. Morgana turned to where Strickler and Nomura were standing on the opposite side of the chamber. “Well what about you? Will one of you stand by your Lady Creator?”

Nomura looked away a scowl on her face. Strickler however took a step forward. Morgana waited but that was as close as he moved.

“It is true you created the changelings. So we could work as your spies and assassins in this war. However Jim helped us, without any thought of reward, even while we were still on the opposite sides. Also he was the one who insisted that the changelings be included again and again. He was the one who fought for our place at this table. I think I can speak for all of my brethren when I say we stand for once alongside the Trollhunter. Not against him.”

Morgana looked down, her face thoughtful. When she looked up again Jim could see a fire in her eyes.

“It is is said, that you can judge a man by the enemies he makes.” She glanced over their shoulders to where Merlin was standing. “Or by the allies he keeps.” At this she glanced to Angor. “But I truly believe the truest test of a man is the enemies he turns into allies, or even friends. Fine. I will sit alone against you.”

On impulse Jim shifted over so he was sitting to the side, in between the Claire and Morgana. Toby quickly caught on to what he was doing and moved so he and Jim were now looking at each other, with Morgana and Claire on their sides.

“You don’t have to be against us.” Jim said. “We are all sitting together.”

Claire leaned forward pulling Morgana’s attention.

“The three of us have fought together against everything we have come across.” Claire said. “We can all fight together now.”

In an uncommon display of seriousness Toby also leaned forward as well meeting Morgana’s eyes. “Seriously can we get this conversation started? This armor is super uncomfortable to sit in for long periods of time.”

Jim and Claire laughed, and even Morgana smiled. Together all four of them, the three Trollhunters and the Eldritch Queen sat and talked. They talked of war and bloodshed. And they talked of peace, and rebuilding. They talked long into the night, Blinky and Aaarrrgghh eventually bringing in chairs so they didn’t have to sit on the floor.

In the end they spoke of balance. Of a balance that had been absent from the world for far too long. Together they spoke of creating a better future, for Troll, Human, Changeling, Wizard and anyone else out in the universe.

Fin

#jim lake junior #tales of arcadia #Trollhunters #claire nunez #toby domzalski #morgana toa #eternal night redux #writing emerald

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mypassionfortrash · 5 years ago

Text

Do More of What Scares You (Part 14)

You and Roger head to Munich to join the rest of Queen in the studio. You have some big news to share, but how will Roger's bandmates react?

💡Catch up: 1&2 ~ 3&4 ~ 5&6 ~ 7&8&9 ~ 10&11 ~ 12 ~ 13💡

Notes: Last chapter! Thank you so much for reading. If you like this series then please, reblog it! I’ve been really disheartened by the lack of response to these updates because of Tumblr’s new algorithm burying them, so now more than ever, it’d be amazing if you could share this!

Tags: @jennyggggrrr & @sarahgurl09

Deacy slumped over the sofa at the back of the mixing room. He had given Brian some suggestions about how to play his solo. But, true to form, the guitarist was having none of it. He stood in the middle of the live room; a thick panel of glass divided him from his bandmates, something for which John was grateful whenever he decided to share a thought that might rile Brian up.

“You don’t know what you’re fucking talking about, John,” Brian seethed through gritted teeth, before demonstrating his illustrious idea one more time for his bandmates. “Is this good enough for you?”

“Can’t we all just calm down?” Freddie groaned, sparking up another cigarette. Then he poured himself yet another measure of vodka. “I don’t see why any of us are so bothered about this. We know the album’s never going to happen. Fuck, we’re a member down already. Here, have a drink, Deacy.”

Mack, the band’s producer, sat hunched over the mixing desk, pinching the bridge of his nose. Between Freddie’s drinking and partying, and Brian and Deacy’s disputes, he couldn’t see an end to this album either - with Freddie, that much he could agree. But to add to his troubles, Jim had refused to confirm whether Roger would be returning to play drums. And the label point-blank declined to finance a session artist. “This would be so much easier if we have a drum track to go off of,” he sighed.

No one heard, of course. They were much too busy throwing themselves into yet another debate to care.

“All I’m saying is that you’ve had a few too many,” Deacy reasoned with Freddie.

“Oh, don’t be such a bore, Deacy.”

Deacy’s eyes shot from Freddie to the omnipresent personal assistant lounging in the doorway.

Paul Prenter was inclined to clock watch when Queen were in the studio. Especially in Munich, which offered all the pleasures a gay man in the 80’s could dream of. He eagerly anticipated opening time for such establishments and would routinely haul Freddie away from the studio, usually at the worst times.

Deacy jabbed a finger in Paul’s direction. “Maybe we’ll get some bloody work done when you and that buggered off to your clubs.”

Paul piped up: “I don’t see how you and Brian-”

“For goodness sake, will you just shut up!” Brian and Deacy screamed in unison.

Paul, sufficiently startled, turned towards the door with Freddie in tow.

The pair stopped in their tracks.

Freddie’s eyes tripled in size. “Where the bloody hell have you been?!” He demanded, taking in the sight of you and Roger. His moustache twitched for a moment before he pulled you both into a bone-crushing embrace. “I’ve been worried sick.” Dragging you both into the centre of the mixing room, he exclaimed: “Look what the cat dragged in! Brian! Look! Roger’s back! He worked things out with the girl! Come! Come through!”

You and Roger stood sheepishly in the centre of the room as his bandmates gathered around.

But there was something off about the elated response. Brian wasn’t joining in. He barely said a word, apart from a courteous hug.

Peering through the gaggle, you watched Brian as he sat down on the sofa. “What’s the matter?”

He looked up at you. “Nothing, it’s nothing.”

Silence fell over the room as soon as he spoke. The realisation that something was drastically off hit an oblivious Roger like a ton of bricks. He pursed his lips together gazing around at his bandmates. “Is there something you aren’t telling me?”

His three best friends traded uneasy looks.

“Is this about me bailing on you? Because I’m-”

“Sit down, Rog,” Brian said, patting the seat next to him.

You perched on the armrest next to Roger, draping your arm over his shoulders. Freddie and Deacy completed the circle.

“We have some news,” Deacy started.

Roger’s shoulders stiffened beneath your touch. His entire body grew rigid. “Are we done?” he asked in a pitiful voice.

“Not completely,” Brian said. “We just think that after the next tour, it might be time to stop.”

“What he means is stop touring,” Freddie clarified.

“We’ll keep recording albums,” Deacy added.

Brian turned to Roger; his eyes were brimming with concern. “We’ll always be Queen. But touring, it’s just not good for us anymore. There are far too many distractions. You of all people should know that.”

“I take it you mean me?” Paul sulked from the doorway, shrouded in a plume of cigarette smoke.

“Oh, fuck off!” Brian spat.

“Can’t you see we’re having a private conversation, here?” Freddie fizzed, knocking everyone in the room for six. “You’ve done nothing but stir the pot since the day we arrived here. Your services aren’t required anymore.”

“You can’t just fire me!”

“Get out!”

Mack got to his feet and calmly escorted a seething Paul Prenter from the room, leaving you alone with the four members of Queen in stunned silence.

“Well?” Deacy pressed.

“Well, what?” Roger shrugged, a smirk twinkling at the corners of his lips.

“What do you think about that?” Brian urged.

Roger finally let himself smile, broad and unabashed. “I’m just glad Freddie’s seen sense if I’m honest.”

“Not Paul, dear. The band!” Freddie took a drag of his cigarette and exhaled. “What do you think about the band!”

“Oh, come off it! I know what you mean! It’s an excellent idea.”

Freddie, Brian and Deacy exchanged bewildered looks before Freddie piped up: “what has she done to you?”

You and Roger glanced at each other, simpering like a couple of loved up teenagers, while everyone else tried to figure out the reason behind Roger’s sudden shift in attitude.

“Should we tell them?” Roger proposed, bumping you with his shoulder.

“I think we should.”

“Okay,” he began, sitting up straight, and delicately placing his hands on his thighs. “We have some news.”

His bandmates leaned in, eagerly anticipating the big reveal.

“This fine young lady and I went galavanting all over Europe to sort ourselves out for a month, and I’m sorry I haven’t been a good friend or a good bandmate. But I’m better now. And we’re stronger than we ever were. We worked everything out and…”

You groaned. “What Roger means to tell you is,” you began, holding up your left hand to show them your news, “we’re getting married! And we hope you’ll all be there.”

The three men erupted. They shook Roger’s shoulders, and patted him on the back in congratulations and forgiveness. Brian sauntered over to the drinks cabinet and pulled out a bottle of Moët. Deacy and Roger followed him, leaving you with Freddie, who was positively vibrating with joy.

“Here, let me get a better look at this!” Freddie smiled, grabbing your hand. He eyed the gigantic ruby and diamond ring with adoration. “Oh, it’s gorgeous! I’m astounded you can even lift your hand, darling. It looks heavy! Did he choose this?!”

“Well, no, actually,” you grinned.

“Of course, he didn’t. He doesn’t have any taste, does he? Now, you must tell me everything,” he babbled, delivering a swat to your thigh. “How did it happen?”

You lolled your head to the side, remembering that moment. That day, when the autumn sun beat down over sprawling golden landscapes somewhere close to Cannes. You and Roger had hired a poppy red Jaguar that would get you from A to B on your adventures. Only, it began to belch out rings of acrid smoke from its exhaust as you neared the city. Soon the electrics and power steering went, ploughing you into the edge of the road. You could have argued; you remembered with a smirk just how close you were to a screaming match with Roger. But the pair of you stepped back from the brink, stamping out that fire before it took hold. The way he looked at you as you stood at the roadside; in a white linen dress and your hair in a pillar box red scarf that matched your cheeks in your flustered state. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, draping his jacket over your shoulders to keep you warm as dusk set in.

To him, you were the most beautiful creature he had ever laid eyes on. And all he wanted was to make it work. He was utterly disarmed. And he couldn’t resist. The words just tumbled from his lips as you danced at the side of the road to keep the chill at bay, your thumb outstretched, appealing to the better nature of passersby. He couldn’t help himself. “Will you marry me?”

“So that’s how it happened,” you giggled, taking in Freddie’s enthralled expression.

“I can’t believe that’s Roger!” he cooed. “Who’d have thought someone would finally make an honest man out of him! Who’d have thought someone would want to, for that matter!”

“He’s not all bad,” you mused, watching as Roger excitedly retold his side of the story to Brian and Deacy. He bobbed up and down with every word. His smile was so broad that his eyes narrowed and his red, rosy cheeks puffed out. “He’s perfect for me,” you said, glancing at Freddie.

“I just have one small question about all of this…”

Freddie had your full attention now.

“What happened with your job and everything? Didn’t you tell your friends where you were going? Weren’t you worried?”

“No.”

“No?!”

“I never worried once.”

Freddie pursed his lips together, shuffling in his seat. “You’re a braver woman than I am.”

“I remember before I met Roger,” you began, scooting over into Freddie’s arms, “I used to get this horrible rushing in my ears. Tunnel vision. My legs would feel like jelly. Any time I left the house, let alone did anything drastically life-changing. Anything that scared me in the least bit.”

“What about now, my dear?” Freddie asked, stroking your hair.

“It hasn’t happened in a month. I’ve gone from feeling that every single day of my adult life, to just being happy. Touchwood it won’t come back - it probably will at some point. But I think I’m in a better place to deal with it, you know?”

“And what about when you came home? After you left America? I’ve missed out on so much.”

“That was awful.”

“Roger was a nightmare to be around that entire time, by the way.”

“I think he still owes you an apology for that.”

“I’ll let it lie. For now.”

“I can’t believe I’m getting married.”

Freddie chuckled. “I’m going to have to find myself a nice man to be my plus one, aren’t I?”

“If you need any tips, from someone who’s got one, you only have to ask.”

“Oh, you!” Freddie scolded as he squeezed you tightly. The pair of you watching Roger from your spot on the sofa in the back of the room.

———————————————————————

The grounds of Garden Lodge bustled. Neat little rows of white chairs sat out on the lawn for a party of no more than 20 people; arches of sunflowers formed an aisle between the two groups of ten. The guests were busy quaffing as much champagne as they could handle. It was only eight in the morning - an ungodly hour for a wedding at the best of times - but some guests more than others didn’t hold much hope of the wedding happening. And if it did, a few took bets on the marriage not lasting more than a year.

Roger, Deacy and Brian stood huddled together at the makeshift altar, dressed in morning suits and nervously blathering away. “What if she gets cold feet?” Deacy said, earning him a glare from Brian.

The band had to be a well-oiled machine on today of all days. Their schedule allowed no margin for error. They had to be at Knebworth for their soundcheck at one o’clock. Sharp. Today was Queen’s final live show, after all.

“Why would you say something like that?” Roger asked, instantly becoming pale and snatching Deacy’s hip flask right from his hands. He took a swig. “She’s going to be here. Fred’ll see to it. I know he will.”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Brian reassured.

Roger offered his bandmates the hip flask; his mouth hung slightly open, and his eyes just as wide. Both politely declined. He needed it more than they did.

Upstairs, in Freddie’s bedroom, you stared at yourself in the full-length mirror. Three men - Peter, Freddie and his partner, Jim, all sat at the edge of the bed, positively beaming at the sight of you. You turned to them, running your hands over the delicate swathes of deep damson lace. “What do you think?”

“It’s very unusual!” Freddie cooed, clasping his hands underneath his chin.

You whined, throwing your arms down by your sides, the sinking in your stomach growing increasingly apparent. “I knew it! I look fucking awful. Today of all days.”

“I don’t think that’s what Freddie meant,” Jim reassured, glaring at Freddie. “Did you?”

“If you’d have let me finish, Negative Nelly, I would have told you I liked the colour,” Freddie explained, rising to his feet and grabbing your hands. He pressed his nose to your own, making you giggle. “Because it’s not virgin white. You look exquisite.”

You looked at Peter. He had been Queen’s wardrobe mistress for years when they toured; you trusted him to help you find the right dress. He seemed pleased with his choice, smiling sweetly at you. “Is it sitting right?” you asked him.

Peter stood up and fixed the train at the back of your skirt. With great care, he spread the layers of fabric out behind you on the floor. “Now it is, but remember, you can’t sit down for the next hour or so. You don’t want the fabric to wrinkle.”

“Okay. Jim, how’s my hair?”

“What are you worrying about your hair for? Roger’s probably going to mess it up in about an hour anyway!”

You sighed, seeing reason beyond all of your fretting. “You’re right. You’re right.” Deep breaths. Today of all days, you weren’t prepared to let doubt and self-sabotage be a feature of your day. You shuffled over to the window to catch a glimpse of your husband-to-be.

You had agreed on a low-key wedding. Just your friends. But even at that, with only twenty people waiting for you downstairs, it felt like too much. It made your heart race.

In the thick of it all, the flowers, pomp and ceremony, was Roger. You had never seen him so happy. Sure, he looked pale, and he was clutching a hip flask for dear life. But he seemed like he was on another level of happiness that you never thought was possible.

Your head spun as you realised your body was fighting for every breath it took.

“Someone fetch her a drink! Joe, darling,” Freddie called, speeding out of the room and into the landing. “Joe! Can you bring our lovely bride some more champagne, dear?”

Peter and Jim fussed over you at the window. A pair of supportive friends that you never in your wildest dreams imagined you would have. You looked down at Alex, Katie and Molly, sour-faced and sandwiched between their boring looking boyfriends. They stuck out like sore thumbs for being the most bland guests there. They didn’t even want to be there. You had known them for years; longer than anyone else and yet, they were the ones who tried to put you off marrying Roger for the whole year between your engagement and your big day. By rights, they should’ve been the ones holding your hand today. But they couldn’t see past their own boring worlds and their own uneventful lives to go after something better. Something exciting.

At least you had the inhabitants of Garden Lodge - cats included - for moral support.

Peter gently took your hand and guided you towards the edge of the bed. “I’m allowing you to sit down because I can’t have you passing out on us. Roger would kill us,” he explained, forcing you to crack a smile.

Freddie returned with Joe - the youngest of the Garden Lodge Four. He cooked and looked after all of the alcohol that flowed freely through the premises. He even made your wedding cake - complete with miniature versions of you and Roger in a little red Jag. “Here, drink! We’ve got about twenty bottles of the good stuff to get through,” he urged, thrusting a glass into your trembling hand.

“Better not tell Roger that - he’s got a show to play!” Jim joked.

You quickly drained it, feeling that golden liquid imbuing you with renewed verve. “Thank you.”

“Better?” Jim asked.

“Much, much better.”

“If it makes you feel even better,” Joe began, whispering to you, “I’ve fed Roger a whole bottle. Brian and John are going to have to prop him up.”

You couldn’t hold back your laugh; it shook your whole body with happiness and echoed through the room, startling no less than three of Freddie’s cats from their hiding spots.

“I think she’s better,” Freddie shrugged.

Jim eyed his watch and jumped when his brain registered the time. “Fuck! It’s quarter past. Better get you downstairs, Mrs Taylor.”

“Don’t want Roger thinking you’ve done a runner, now, do we?” Peter said, offering you a hand up.

The marble staircase seemed to stretch on for miles, spiralling down into the hallway. Every single shaky step made your leopard print heels slip ever so slightly tripling the rate at which your heart fluttered. Even if you did manage to fall, you were safe in the knowledge that Jim or Freddie would catch you. They clung to an arm each for dear life while Peter hung back, frantically preventing you from standing on the bottom of your dress. They did all the work, forcing each baby step upon you as your body threatened to hurl the contents of your stomach down your dress and a quiet ocean moved inside your ears.

The trio led you out into the garden, through neatly trimmed rows of hedges and beautiful rose bushes and sunflowers. You had managed to accumulate a few of Freddie’s cats along the way, too. They accompanied you to the first sunflower arch at the end of the narrow aisle, before Freddie passed you a bouquet of roses that matched your dress.

Heads turned to get a glimpse of you, but there was only one person you cared about seeing today. Although tunnel vision was setting in, if you strained hard enough, you could just about make him out at the very end of the aisle. You could see his smile a mile off.

The wedding march kicked in, and suddenly you were on your own.

Your nails dug into the flowers stems as you tried to focus on something other than the fact that your legs felt like jelly. Your vision was so obscured that you struggled to see Roger, squinting into the sun. It felt like a joke — a bad one at that. A car crash in slow motion, you felt compelled to make proceedings move just a little bit faster. To put one foot in front of the other more easily.

“Fuck this,” you muttered to yourself, leaning against the back of a chair. You whipped off your shoes and carried on. It earned you some uneasy laughs, but you could tell Roger’s was genuine.

Being able to move more freely, you giggled to yourself as your stomped towards the altar.

Roger shared your sentiments. He couldn’t stop laughing. “You’re that impatient to marry me, hm?”

You scoffed, delivering a smack to his chest. “How do I look, though?”

“Don’t know. Haven’t got my glasses. Can’t see you. Might be marrying a complete dog - ow!”

Freddie had delivered a sharp jab to Roger’s ribs, making him jump.

Roger’s cheeky expression was plastered all over his face by this point, but the feeling wasn’t lost. Those words made you melt in front of everyone. “You look beautiful, darling.”

—————————————————————————————————————————

You spent the entirety of Queen’s set cuddled up next to Freddie’s partner, Jim, at the side of the stage, sinking beers and watching in blissful awe as the sprawling crowd sang every word back to Freddie. It was unlike anything you had witnessed before. Unlike the last time you found yourself at a Queen gig.

When the evening drew to a close, a rush of euphoria washed over you; your husband finally made his way off stage towards you. He was drenched in sweat and on a high he’d never reach again. The voices of what seemed like millions, still chanting ‘God Save the Queen’ provided a fitting backdrop. He was inches from you, aching to finally be alone with his wife, when you pointed into the distance, over his shoulder.

“Nope,” Roger murmured, peppering kisses all over your cheek. “None of that now. S’all about you, Mrs Taylor.”

You pressed your hands to his chest, grasping at the saturated shirt he wore to stop him. “Just look,” you whispered, spinning him around by his shoulders.

Roger’s eyes glassed over, gazing out at the adoring audience one last time.

“Savour it,” you said, resting your arm over his shoulder. “You’ve got a lifetime with me. But you’re not going to get that again.”

You felt something behind you. Then you heard it.

“What are you two doing?” Freddie fretted, putting his arm around you. Then Brian joined him. And Deacy and the crew and their wives and kids joined them, too, until you all stood in a row, arm-in-arm, watching as the crowds began to disperse.

“What do we do now?” Roger asked, his voice wavering.

“I think I was at a wedding this morning,” Deacy mused.

“Really?” Freddie snorted. “Whose wedding?”

“A pair of plonkers called Mr and Mrs Taylor, I think,” Brian retorted.

“Alright, boys!” you chuckled, hauling Roger away from the group. “I want some time alone with my husband. You can have him back later.”

Roger nodded at you. A short, wordless signal to make your getaway as swiftly as possible. Then the pair of you ran as fast as your legs could carry you through the backstage area and out to a waiting car.

When you collapsed inside, and the door closed, it was as if the entire world had been put on hold. It was just you and Roger, sweaty and breathless and alone for the first time in what felt like an eternity. You sat apart on the backseats, hands barely touching, trying to catch your breath as the car kicked into motion.

“We did it,” Roger gasped, clutching his heaving chest.

“That was honestly the most terrifying day of my life.”

Roger chuckled and shook his head. “Happy, though, right?”

“I think I made a good choice.”

“So what’s next?”

“Dunno. We could decorate the house?”

“Decorate?! It’s our wedding night, and you’re talking to me about decorating?”

“Oh, you meant… right!” You tittered, throwing your leg over Roger’s lap. “Well, in that case…” You trailed off, kissing your husband deeply.

He sighed against your lips, pressing his fingers into your waist. Then he broke away; a mischevious look washed over him.

“What?” you asked, sweeping his hair back.

“Can you put the dress on when we get home?”

“Why?” you asked, narrowing your eyes.

“So I can take it off.”

#roger taylor x reader #roger taylor #queen #roger taylor fic #queen fic

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cruddyborderlandstheories · 6 years ago

Text

i walk in 20 hours late sipping a starbucks hot cocoa

i don’t like coffee

promethea!!!

awwwwww yis

tl;dr: uhh wow i talked a lot today, sorry. Mostly about whatever the fuck that thing Rhys is handing us is, how it ties into the dig site we see like maybe it’s a piece to activate it, maybe the dig site isn’t a Vault but instead a teleporter or something and needs multiple pieces to activate. so i guess kinda like a Vault but not that kind of Vault. Also if said dig site is actually on Promethea because that’s, like, DEFINITELY Elpis behind it. and like, okay, maybe we used the giant space gun to destroy the asteroid fields and make room for elpis and teleport elpis there, or maybe we teleported the dig site to pandora because it needs to be opened since Moon = Key and maybe Promethea’s moon was destroyed by the giant space gun (TM) and turned into asteroid belt, or maybe the dig site was always ON pandora and it’s not actually a Vault (because the Map would have pointed it out), but still. lots of possibilities here. oh and i go over the Battleborn easter egg and talk about Tannis is Not What She Seems (and pray she won’t end up being evil bc I love her) and I wanna believe the Eridians sent that message, not the cult ‘cause fuck those guys they probably can’t see the future they probably just adopted the name. also I ramble about how gorgeous this planet is for like... 30 minutes. but damn it really is pretty.

man this was a fun thing to wake up to and then have to wait like 8 hours to actually fully take a look at lmao

“Home to the Atlas corporation headquarters, Promethea is a metropolitan world covered in futuristic towers of chrome and glass. A recent siege by Maliwan has turned the urban environment into a warzone; their mechanized infantry patrol the streets, rodent/insect hybrids known as Ratches infest the sewers and back-alleys, and the Children of the Vault are seizing the opportunity to recruit displaced and disgruntled citizens. Atlas CEO Rhys Strongfork is getting desperate.“

“... Children of the Vault are seizing the opportunity to recruit displaced and disgruntled citizens”.

yeah that’s the most important part of this description for me. I really really like the idea of that, and it could tie into the whole Mayhem is Coming tagline for the game as, like many people have speculated, the Mayhem we hear about is the spreading of the cult/the psychos across the universe. A very interesting tie-in to the marketing campaign, as it’s clear we’re now the target of this cult propaganda, like the citizens of Promethea are (were? this is all past-tense since marcus is telling this story, isn’t it?)... like the citizens of Promethea were.

And we know that Atlas is trying to protect the citizens in the tunnels, so it’d be really interesting to see the two get into a direct conflict over a group of citizens. Like Lorelei tells us it's a hostage situation or whatever and we run in and it’s more of a brainwashing situation. Worse if the citizens decided to switch over without any brainwashing. oof.

im also curious about the number of hexagons we see on Promethea. The shapes look identical to the ones on Pandora’s page, so I’m curious if this is an accurate representation of how many areas will be on each planet.

just sayin’.

We do know that Pandora has more than those 3 listed areas (from Supmatto’s new video! can’t believe i missed the stream. ah well.)

“Covenant Pass”. I wanna believe this is near the area where we go find Sanctuary-III, at the very least that one tunnel-y area?

you know the one

this one, it’s right next to Sanc-III afterall.

Also thinking it may not be the name of a huge area, but instead the name of one of the smaller areas within that area? like the ones where when you discover it you get experience points? yeah.

the name makes me think this is someway related to the CoV cause of the word ‘covenant’, an agreement. We also know this area is directly near this one bandit camp which I’ve theorized before is a sun smasher camp

(you can see the back of sanctuary-III near both areas)

so it’s possible there was an agreement made and both could pass freely through that one tunnel, or the twins were able to build that wall close to this camp. idk, just spitballing ideas.

So then it is possible there’s only 3ish areas on Pandora, but I really hope not unless they are BIG areas. There are most likely more than 3.

oh but we’re here to discuss Promethea

sorry i forgot.

For Promethea we got the Titan Skyway, the Atlas Campus, and the Meridian Seaport.

Titan Skyway reads to me like that giant road we keep seeing in the trailers

like this one, which is giving me huge Bloodshot Stronghold (Damtop) vibes. Which is one of my favorite levels to play as melee Zer0 with execute and many must fall so... please let this be what i think it is. i may end up running that map just for funsies at the end of the game. mm if it didn’t take running the actual bloodshot stronghold every time i wanted to play the damtop level, i’d be running it all the time. sigh.

Atlas Campus immediately made me think of the Meridian Metroplex, but that’s definitely not it. In the instagram trailer we see Rhys on the ‘Atlas HQ rooftop’ with Zer0, so I’m gonna imagine Rhys is somewhere in the Atlas Campus.

Now if this is like an actual college campus, which i don’t think gearbox would do due to the implications, that’d be wild. I heard they had a mall designed for somewhere in the meridian metroplex, but we’re probably not actually allowed inside. which makes me sad, but also it probably holds no significance on the story. but then again... neither did caustic caverns. hmmmmmmmmm

oh also rhys is holding

whatever the fuck this is

uhhhhhhh... huhhhhh...

tbh i legitimately thought this was their attempt at macgyvering a vault key at first lmao

i know it’s a mission object because it has those glitteries, but... it reminds me a bit of Gortys’s core but i really don’t think that’s it. maybe another Atlas project to try and open a Vault? It just doesn’t look Eridian to me.

then again

this appears to be at the eridian dig site so... maybe it actually is Eridian. Definitely new to me.

some way to get inside the Vault area maybe? I can’t imagine that’s the actual Vault Key, because the one we see in the We Are Mayhem trailer doesn’t match.

you know i’ve been thinking more about vault colors

this one appears pink which... alright. maybe something to do with seraphs/seraph crystals.

The bl1 Vault was blue, the bl2 Vault was purple, the Vault of the Sentinel was... purple? blue? pink? all of the above? ... bisexual? tbqh there was a LOT going on there lol. wasn’t the Vault of the traveler yellow? either way

the big question here is: does each Vault have its own color scheme?

I wonder what that means since the Vault Mey has turned red now... it’s probably leading us to the big boy. the Vault to end all Vaults.

now wouldn’t that be fun

right back to Promethea sorry

final listed area we get is called the Meridian Seaport. Which, if you know me, has got me all like 👀👀👀👀👀👀

water area? why yes PLEASE

i was actually talking to someone on reddit about said ‘seaport’ and it got me wondering if maybe this area is where we’ll find that one car from the Mask of Mayhem trailer.

i can’t imagine what else those wing-like things on the side would be for. but i am definitely not a car person, like the closest i get is being a fan of Transformers, so maybe someone can enlighten me.

I am wondering if this area is the one we see in the instagram trailer with Moze

here

also i know we see water near where we find Zer0 in the demo, but that’s not really a dock area, more just a viewpoint. this has me thinking it’s an actual dock because the buildings are all off in the distance. It reminds me a lot of NYC actually lol

and interestingly enough i write about an assassination mission at a port on Promethea in one of my fanfics, but tbh i wasn’t actually expecting anything like it to be in-game. That was kind of an assumption I made since the area with Zer0 had water and I can’t believe I’m going to have to go back and edit it to be canon-compliant, cause I legitimately didn’t...

anyway.

Should i go over the instagram stuff now? I feel like i should go over the instagram stuff now.

see here is my problem with this

no moon

you’ll understand why once i compile my evidence

no moon

no moon!!

no moon

i even watched both time lapses during the amd stream and there was no hint of the moon (i understand promethea is in a state of perpetual twilight, but i thought maybe it would show up somewhere. it doesn’t. in fact it only shows the sun and this asteroid belt).

where is my moon, randy?

well let me tell you what i’m thinking here so you’re not even more confused

let’s go through that instagram video showcasing Promethea again

you should recognize this!

this is from that one video i reblogged like 4 times because i kept debating whether or not it was on promethea or pandora. now we can assume it’s on promethea but let me ask u something

if promethea doesn’t have a moon...

what the everloving fuck is that?

in fact, let me ask something

what does elpis look like in bl3?

look familiar?

hell yeah it does

now...

is this actually promethea?

I can’t imagine gearbox would be using footage that ISN’T from the planet they’re showcasing in a video about said planet. because that’s naughty. Plus, Rhys is shown giving us something that looks very similar to the tech in that area, and I can’t imagine we’d go through all that trouble just to get that tech then immediately go back to Pandora with whatever it is. whatever happened to the Promethean Vault Key we see in the We Are Mayhem trailer?

so there’s 2 options here if we’re under the assumption that dig site is/was on Promethea.

This dig site was moved from Promethea to Pandora

Elpis was moved from Pandora to Promethea

Now i went over ALL of this in an old post. (seriously, give this a read if you haven't already, i go into this in a lot more detail than i will here). but we kinda got some new information.

My first instinct is that this dig site is on (or moved to) Pandora. just, 100% Pandora. the moon, the spiky rocks in the background, what look like Rakk near the back, there’s no asteroid belt in the sky. etc. etc.

do the blue sparkles have anything to do with it? maybe!

Also again, im not 100% certain this is actually a Vault. It just... doesn’t feel right to me. If this was actually on Pandora the entire time, then we’d have known about it through the Vault Map. We would have gone to open the 3rd Vault on Pandora before bl3 even began. If this really has been on Pandora the whole time, I do believe this isn’t actually a Vault. I go over this in that previous post I’ve made and I’m still standing by it. I think this is just an Eridian ruin and the Vault shape is just a statue or whatever. I could be 100% wrong, but that’s my first instinct if we’re being lead to believe this is on Pandora.

Now I’m curious why this dig site was never mentioned in bl2 if it WAS on Pandora this whole time. And, again, if it actually does end up being a Vault, there’d be a huge plot hole with the whole Vault Map thing if it was on Pandora all along.

So was it moved here? Yeah... probably. For what reason? I... have no idea. How? similar answer. Lily couldnt’ve done it, she doesn’t have her powers anymore. Maybe activating it with whatever Rhys gives us makes it teleport to Pandora. For... reasons.

If it is a Vault, maybe it requires Elpis to open it. for some reason. We know Moon equals Key, so it could play into that. It definitely looks like it’s positioned directly in line with elpis.

but why would a Vault built on Promethea need a moon from a totally different planet to open it?

Because Promethea’s moon was destroyed.

That asteroid belt? I don’t think that’s there just for funsies (okay maybe the artists had funsies but the actual writing? yeah). And that big gun looking thing we see in both concept art and in the trailer? i think that thing fucked up Promethea’s moon to the point it shattered. So they couldn’t open that Vault.

alright, we all cool on this version of the theory?

let’s flip it on its head.

let’s consider:

Elpis was moved from Pandora to Promethea

NOT possible i hear you say

but hear me out.

what’s our reasons for saying this is Pandora?

“the moon, the spiky rocks in the background, what look like Rakk near the back, there’s no asteroid belt in the sky. etc. etc.”

Elpis? teleported! bah!

Spiky rocks? Well! We hear typhon mention a quarry, don’t we? one with brittle rock. This very well could be the quazmarian quarry he talked about where he found that very first Vault (and Vault Key). After all, if he fell into a hole and found it, it makes sense that there would be a shitload of dig teams trying to clear it out for easy access.

Rakk? We see those on Athenas, too, during the Happy Together trailer. Plus, they’re super chubby on the bottoms compared to what we see of the Rakk in the Claptrap Presents Pandora video. Maybe they’re not even Rakk.

Finally. Ah. The asteroid belt.

Well, if you believe that that giant gun could’ve obliterated Promethea’s moon, then is it so hard to turn around and believe that it’s actually obliterated the asteroids surrounding Promethea?

in fact, if we really ARE moving Elpis to Promethea, wouldn’t it make sense that we can’t have asteroids hitting Elpis for fear of worsening the Crackening and breaking our own moon?

In FACT, do we even SEE any asteroids above Promethea in that trailer shot of the bigass gun?

I THINK NOT.

There’s more to this theory, though.

from claptrap presents pandora

from the we are mayhem trailer

yeah, they COULD be celebrating the destruction of Elpis (because i would not be surprised if those are both near the same area)

lets think of something new, though. Elpis being blown up was totally 2015, with Zarpedon. That’s SO last season, Calypsos.

Plus, why would the calypsos even want the moon destroyed? is that not the home of a Vault that would allow them to see the future? how fucking powerful would that be, being able to see the future??? Jack knew what he had to do to win the Pandora games (even if he uhhh didn’t get to see that last bit because of Lilith), so why wouldn’t the Calypsos want to see their own futures?

There is the argument that they’ve already gone to Elpis and didn’t like what the Vault showed them, but I kinda assumed that they’d have gotten the funky eye things like Zarpedon did if they really did see what the Vault showed them. Given that Jack’s was interrupted by Lilith, we don’t really know if that’s truly the case.

I’m 100% down to blow up the moon cause Good Riddance, but also it needs to make sense WHY the calypsos want it blown up other than like shits and giggles? which... fine, but the story..? Elpis has to be important somehow. They have to want it blown up for some reason. A show of power? awesome, maybe they got that giant space gun. Moon = Key, so maybe they think if we can’t get this Vault, nobody can? sure why not. Destroying Pandora? Sure, but why blow up elpis when u could just also blow up pandora?

either way, if the game gives us an actual reason as to why the twins are blowing up the moon, we’re all fine and dandy. if they’re going it just because then yeah, im gonna get kinda testy.

anyway my point IS

The effect around elpis here looks strikingly familiar to the effect that appears around Lilith (and the cultists) when they’re teleported.

so it would be much cooler if, instead of blowing up Elpis, they were actually celebrating its movement.

And it would be very interesting then, if this tied into that Easter Egg we got.

You know the one:

Because yeah im still iffy on the implication that this is from the Calypso twins. Why wouldn’t they want the Vaults opened? isn’t that the grand plan?

maybe this could be from the Eridians or the Guardians on Elpis. If Elpis was teleported from Pandora to Elpis, maybe the translation from Eridian -> English is slightly off, or simplified for the message. (on vs orbiting for example)

Visit Promethea -> Where we are right now, or where we’re going to go. We need you there.

Children of the Vault -> Yes, it could be the CoV cult that’s being referenced, but the way this is broadcasted, through morse code, spoken like an actual cryptic message and not, you know, with that Calypso flair... me thinks the cult simply adopted the name “Children of the Vault”. I think this may either be referencing Sirens, or the Vault Hunters/Crimson Raiders. Maybe the twins picked up this broadcast and that’s why they immediately head to Promethea after they steal Lilith’s powers.

We are not on Pandora anymore -> shit dudes we got yeeted to Promethea, help us. Or... we’ve moved elsewhere. We’re not nearby, we escaped, we fled, come find us on Promethea.

Tannis is not what she seems -> this one... I don’t believe the Calypsos actually know anything about Tannis. If they do, then she was possibly the one to rescue/experiment on them, turning them into artificial Sirens or whatever, but then... isn’t Tannis exactly what she seems? She’s crazy, she totally would experiment on the twins. That is EXACTLY what she seems like.

The people who would know about Tannis not being what she seems... the people who can see the future? The Guardians of the Sentinel’s Vault (maybe just the Guardians/Eridians in general). The Watcher can speak (speak? she uses telepathy, doesn’t she? that’s why Brick asks Lilith what she says) eloquently, I imagine there has to be more than one Watcher-like Guardian. Or this is the Watcher herself sending the message.

Either way, if, later on in the game, Tannis starts showing signs of not being what she seems, then... wouldn’t it make sense that the only characters who knew this were the ones who could see the future? And given the new info, it makes sense that the Guardians/Eridians/yougetthegist would know her by name, because she could be the one who turned herself into an artificial Siren. Or figured out how to create artificial Sirens. Whichever (both?). Which is kinda big news in the Eridian world, I’m sure. Plus, the wording using ‘What’ instead of ‘Who’ is kinda a big pointer. I’m almost leaning towards the idea that Tannis tried to give herself Angel’s phaseshifting abilities. I can’t see Tannis with actual offensive abilities... It wouldn’t really fit her character. But I can 100% see her with mad computer hacking skills, to the point she could ruin anything with a flick of her wrist. Yeah, I can see that.

And I really hope Tannis doesn’t end up being a villain. She could do so much good with her intelligence and newfound powers and tbh it’s really nice seeing a character with autism not treated like Sheldon from the Big Bang Theory (the butt of every joke). She feels real to me (as someone with autism)- she’s got her obsession (Eridians/Sirens/the Vaults), her crazy intelligence, the social phobia/unawareness. I really like her as a character (going from betraying us in bl1 to realizing her mistake and immediately trying to help and assisting the Crimson Raiders) and I’d really hate for her to become the villain just for... idk a shock twist? The shock twist should be that she’s a Siren or whatever, not that she’s going to betray us. I like Tannis :( And all the message says is Tannis is Not What She Seems, not that we shouldn’t trust her or that she’s going to betray us.

Do Not Open the Vaults -> well this is the whole thing, isn’t it? this is why I think this message has some sort of Eridian origin, instead of the Calypsos cult. The Calypsos WANT the Vaults open. They want that ‘universe-destroying’ power. They want to absorb the powers of the Vault monsters. Shit, even we Vault Hunters want to open the Vaults for some of that sweet, sweet loot. But who doesn’t want the Vaults opened? The Eridians.

oh yeah we were talking about Promethea. how the fuck did i get here?

oh the moon

yeah it could have just been a shot in the Instagram trailer they used to show off the ‘Eridian alien technology’. that’s not fun to talk about tho lmfao. plus the thingie Rhys holds matches up so well with the cool technology we get

anyway

the instagram trailer. we’re not even like halfway done with this post btw. still gotta do those beautiful screenshots

trailer

sorry it’s like 1am im starting to lose focus im shifting into sleepy mode

i just love the aesthetic of this city.

also. that one building with the 0 on it? you can’t convince me Rhys didn’t give Zer0 their own skyscraper.

oh, you want an entire building to store all your loot and trophy kills? OF COURSE ZER0 ANYTHING FOR YOU

yes....... Eridian log.

im really excited to see it glowing. especially since it’s glowing red, like the Vault Map/key/you know. I hope that has some significance.

i did boost the brightness and noticed it was part of a wall, not just one slab found elsewhere. makes me think this is part of a Temple. maybe part of the dig site below? we know that one is connected to some sort of building. and if it glows red, that’d be a really neat tie in to why Atlas always has that glowing red aesthetic going on in their bases.

still not done talking about this shot. yeah the stuff on the right looks similar to the thing Rhys hands us. NOT why i brought it back up tho. The guardian statues in the back seem very ‘low poly’. VERY different to the guardian statues we have on Pandora. they’re also holding staffs which is new.

compare

these ones also seem much buffer than the guardians we see. with shorter necks, as well.

Maybe these are statues of ACTUAL Eridians? not just Guardians or any other construct (further proof for my theory Pandora was a Guardian production planet lol) but like what Eridians actually look like.

shorter necks, thicker limbs (because why would the constructs NEED muscles?), actual bodies that aren’t thin as twigs. I think we found it boys

this is the ideal Eridian body

no cause, seriously, if they ARE guardians, why are they so BUFF?? i don’t GET IT

also weird this atlas gun isn’t wrist mounted. Atlas sniper confirmarinoed? or just an Old Atlas gun. sure. that too.

Moze on a turret near what i assume is the Meridian Seaport. She has what i think is an Atlas pistol equipped. There’s a dead guy leaning up against some cinder blocks, all cozy-like.

better shot of the area. We talked about this earlier, so moving on!

Okay... so is THIS the New Atlas sniper? it looks like nigel thornberry’s nose

smashing.

we saw this before, too. im actually really excited to look out over the Promethea skyline from the top of a skyscraper. also, idk, rhys’s hand looks like a yaoi hand to me. like his fingers are above the F in strongfork, right? look how far away his thumb is. YEESH.

it’s actually ONLY rhys lol

An Atlas soldier at work! I like that their gear has the crimson lance logo on it. And the new Atlas symbol. I feel like if we have to fight these guys, the crit spot is gonna be that backpack.

maliwan robo!!!

a big boy. one of the flying ones too iirc from the We Are Mayhem trailer.

Atlassss in the back. it’s weird that the second A in Atlas is the logo, not the first one. the first one is a triangle. that’s weird is it supposed to be signalling something else? a triangle with a circle around it. i don’t even know what that might be a logo for. hm.

oh also police bots i guess, but we see these dudes a lot.

im more interested in this thingie in the back. wonder what happened to it/what it is

ratches. blegh.

i hate these things jfc. they’re so gross.

i like that maliwan is just claiming things by throwing their flag up on it. that’s not how this works! that’s not how any of this works!

anyway.

how are those screenshots lookin

pretty good.

im pretty sure i’ve mentioned this before, but i love that they named this part of the city Meridian and then kept the Eridian logo in the spelling. it’s so fuckin dorky to me.

also i know we’re supposed to hate these robos, but at least they’re getting some characterization as enemies. the loaderbots in bl2 do this but not to a degree that they get their own interactions (LB being the exception of course). I like this.

also i love that parts of the city are color coded. like red and blue parts are different areas. It’s such a neat way to help people not get lost (cough, me) and it fits great into the design of the city with the neon lights and bright colors. I noticed this in the gameplay demo as well, tho i don’t remember if it was followed. Also I’m pretty sure that symbol up there

is what the blue area is called. could be wrong. but i think i saw this during the demo as well.

i think this is going to be my favorite area to visit on Promethea, hands down. I love this little living area. It feels so unlike anywhere we’ve visited in previous games, like it feels like somewhere Gaige could be from. Actually, iirc Roland was from Promethea, wasn’t he? Be wild if we visited his house here. Anyway, I’m also excited about the trees. Fucking! Trees!

and cars!!! holy shit yeah on Pandora we only ever saw like light runners or bandit technicals and the occasional bus. all the cars were broken down and stripped for parts! It’s really cool to see actual full cars here.

wow i am excited over the most mundane shit lol

wait till you guys hear about the PARKING LOT

OHHHH YEAH

CROSSWALKS TOO

lol im actually- i just love this area. i love it so much. this is lovely. i love the giant glowing reactor in the background too, i 100% hope we get to interact with that (posssssibly blow it up. maybe just a little.) I can see this area being the area we have to run through to reach the entrance of that thing. I mean, it’s just RIGHT THERE.

Also would not be surprised if this KV fellow is waiting for us there. “Who wants to BANG a billionaire indeed”. He’s totally gonna be a boss fight. BANG i imagine means more shooty shooty than innuendo... innuendo...

it sounded better in my head.

the symbol for the red area possibly on that tower in the back?

I’m like, 60% sure this isn’t the area we explore with Lorelei, so maybe this is the Titan Skyway? also maybe the bridge Moze and Fl4k drop off of in the Happy Together trailer.

hate. i would quote AM here but im tired so just imagine the entire ‘Hate’ quote here because i HATE these things.

there’s also a big skelly in the back, i wonder just how big these fuckin things can grow. hopefully uhhh like a cow died here or smth. cuz fuck man.

this area is also super green and watery so i wonder if this is a sewer or smth. that’d be wild lol

Another shot of the city. It’s so fucking beautiful. I really love how they went all out for this. Opportunity was great, but it wasn’t nice to look at. Promethea is fucking STUNNING. I love this place way too much. Never even been here before.

also i love the fog coming up from the bottom. Maybe this shot is taken from the water? god if we get to go on the water and then it starts fogging up i might actually start crying lol.

this building is my favorite by far i think. I love the way the middle turns in. I have no idea how that’d work like... from an inside standpoint, cause the ground would just be slanted under you but im sure they made it work somehow.

anyway. im gonna go cry myself to sleep over how beautiful this game is. sorry i talked like... WAY too much during this one lol.

also i just thought of this while writing the tl;dr but maybe that item rhys gives us is after all the Promethea stuff is over, even the Vault(s), maybe we need it to activate something in that vault statue area on Pandora and that’s our way to like some important Vault or the Eridian homeworld or smth and we gotta collect all the pieces to activate it. like it’s a teleporter. Maybe Rhys had a piece because that’s what was in the Vault of the Traveller. I mean it would make sense because if you didn’t want someone to have something, you fuckin hide it in a box that’s teleporting across the galaxy at random intervals. That might be our way to the Eridian Homeworld. Now wouldn’t that be neato...

#borderlands #bl3 #borderlands 3 #promethea #wow sorry i just WENT OFF tonight #it's 2am tho so nighty #i did my best #time for sleep

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wndamaximov · 5 years ago

Text

Of Love And Secrets

Part 3: Meeting Her Family

Main Masterlist Series Masterlist

Summary: While y/n was initially stuck in the book store because of the rain, she stayed longer for the handsome stranger that kept her company. But this handsome stranger has a secret- one he’d rather not let see the light of day.

Warnings: Minor Language, Fluff, Abusive Boyfriend, PTSD

Words: 1, 316

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

A/N: Sorry for taking so long in getting this up. Thank y'all for being so patient <3<3<3

<< prev

Y/n laydown, nestled in the crook if Steve’s arm, running her fingers round and round in circles on his chest. They’d been dating for a couple of months now, and the Starks were dying to meet him.

“I think that it’s time for you to meet Tony and Pepper,” she voiced out loud. Y/n could feel Steve’s breath stop for a moment. It was a while before he finally let it go and relaxed.

“Don’t you think it’s… too early?” His voice came out uncertain, so different from the way he usually spoke.

Y/n pushed herself off of him and whirled around to look at his face. She smiled before telling him, “They can’t wait to meet you. In fact, every time I see them, they ask when they’ll finally get to see the living legend in person.”

Steve laughed. “A living legend? Is that what I am now?” As suddenly as the happiness had come, the gloominess returned. “What if they don’t like me?”

She leaned down to kiss him softly, leaving him- and her- wanting more. “They won’t like you; they’ll love you.” Y/n got out of the bed reluctantly to get ready for work. “I’ll see you when I get back?”

“Yeah,” Steve ran a hand through his hair then continued, “And tell Tony and Pepper we’ll meet them for dinner tomorrow, kinda like a double date.”

≿————-　❈　————-≾

Steve’s POV

After y/n left, Steve leaned over to grab his phone from the bedside table. He went to his contacts and scrolled down to Bucky’s. His finger hovered over the call button, as he debated whether or not to call him. On one hand, he wasn’t even sure he’d answer. He’d been ignoring Steve, ever since his first date with y/n. It broke his heart, but he knew Bucky needed his space. On the other hand, he missed his best friend.

Before he could rethink his decision, he pressed the button. Bucky picked up on the first ring.

≿————-　❈　————-≾

Y/n’s POV

Y/n walked into Pepper’s office, carrying papers for her to sign. Tony was there too, trying to stop the swinging sticks from… swinging.

“Everything’s set for the press conference, I just need both of your signatures here and here.” She set the papers on the desk while pointing to the places they both needed to sign.

The swinging sticks clattered to the floor, still going, and Tony threw his hands up in defeat. “I swear to God, I’m going to throw this thing in the trash.”

Pepper gave him her signature glare and said, “No you’re not.” Y/n had been the receiving end of one of those multiple times(albeit, less than Tony) and she could say from experience that it wasn’t the best feeling in the world.

“Yes ma’am. However, would you consider donation?” The look persisted.

“Anyways…” y/n interrupted, “you both are invited to dinner. With Steve and me.”

“Oh my God, finally! Pep, you owe me one, crisp Jackson.”

“You bet on me?”

“Oh honey, we do it all the time. Speaking of time, when and where is our double date going to be?”

As she gave them the details, a bouquet of flowers perched on the edge of Pepper’s desk caught her eye. Blood red roses- beautiful, yet full of thorns.

“You get those for Pepper?” she asked Tony. It was Pepper who answered.

“No, they’re from a corporation that wants to do business. Hydra Technologies, I think.”

She nodded, the heat of tears stinging behind her eyes. “I have to go.” She barely made it out of the room and into the bathroom before the flashback started.

Ring-a-round the rosie,

A pocket full of posies,

Ashes, Ashes,

We all fall down.

His face swam before her eyes, his hands and feet following, not seconds after. She saw bouquet of roses he always sent as an apology, before the cycle of rage started again. And like ashes, she always fell down.

≿————-　❈　————-≾

Steve’s POV

Bucky stared down at his coffee, slowly stirring the sugar in. Steve had just told him about the double date, and he had yet to respond.

He took a sip, then set the cup down, looking Steve straight in the eye. Surprisingly, he didn’t seem mad.

“Okay.” Bucky leaned back in his chair.

“That’s it?”

“No, that’s not it. If you want to be a suicidal maniac for a girl, I fully support your decision.”

“I’m not suicidal. They’ll never find out.”

“You really like her?”

“I do. I think I may love her too.”

“I’m sorry. For being the world’s biggest jerk. I still get to be your best man, right?”

Steve choked on the water he had just taken a sip of. “Who said anything about a wedding?”

≿————-　❈　————-≾

Y/n’s POV

After gathering herself together on the floor of the bathroom stall, y/n had went back to work, as if everything was normal.

When she got back home, all memories of… him, and been shoved back down into a lockbox.

As she got ready for dinner, she wondered where Steve was, seeing as he was usually waiting for her at home. That’s what Steve’s house had become for her. Home. She smiled to herself.

When the door opened, she was all ready for dinner, save for her shoes.

“Where were you?”

Steve grinned. “I got a job.”

Y/n ran over to Steve and gave him a congratulatory hug. “Oh my God, where? I need all the details!”

“At the bookstore. Bucky needed some extra help, and I volunteered.”

Y/n hugged him again. “Now go get ready, we can’t be late.”

≿————-　❈　————-≾

Steve’s POV

In the taxi to the restaurant, Steve’s knee wouldn’t stop bouncing. Up, down, up, down, up. Eventually, y/n put her hand on it, stopping the motion.

He couldn’t even relax with the girl he loved because of a stupid, drunken mistake he’d made years ago. Damn young Steve for messing things up for him.

On another note, he really wanted both the Starks to love him. They were important to y/n, and he wanted them to be important to him too.

Deep down in his subconscious, he wanted them to like him to make up for what he did, but that only made him feel even more guilty.

Too late to go back now; they were already at the restaurant.

“You ready?”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

They saw Tony and Pepper and y/n ran up to them introduce everyone to each other. Then, Steve found himself in a seat, right across from Tony Stark. Honestly, the way he got there was a blur.

“So, how’d you three meet?” he asked, making small talk.

“Well, I started out as an intern in the public relations department at Stark Industries. When I was taking coffee to the big shots upstairs, a very hungover Tony Stark told me to come sit with him on the floor.”

“I still don’t understand why you did it,” Pepper interjected.

“Because he was CEO at the time! Anyways, we got to talking, and it turned out that we had a lot in common.”

“Yup! We only talked about morbid stuff though, like how both our parents died in car crashes and-”

Their voices faded away, and Steve wanted to be anywhere but here. Laughter interrupted his thoughts, and he zoned back into the conversation, determined to make a good impression.

But the memory of his past still lingered in the back of his head, from appetizers until after dessert.

≿————-　❈　————-≾

Y/n’s POV

After dinner, Tony pulled her aside and whispered in her ear, “I like him- he’s a keeper.”

“Yeah, he is,” she agreed, before going up to Steve and taking his arm.

Once Tony and Pepper were out of earshot, she said, “That wasn’t so bad now, was it?”

≿————-　❈　————-≾

next >>

What do you think Steve did... let me know in the comments! As always, reblogs are an added bonus!

Angels: @freshly-painted-duck @rebelwriter95

Of Love and Secrets: @theadventurousqueen @marvelgirl7 @little-ash-unicorn @diamonddia-mond @questionable-brimborion @jll72-blog

Send me an ask if you want to be tagged in this series!

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floatingpetals · 7 years ago

Text

Touch of Dramatics

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes

Warnings: Nothing really, just a lot of fluff, clint’s ego get hurt a little

Word Count: 1300+

Request: Request: “Hi! Could you do a Stucky x reader with the angst #12 and #25?” -Anon 12. “I hate you.” 25. “I’m sick.”

A/N: So the first thing that popped into my head wasn’t anything sad or angsty. I’m a big baby when I get sick and went a little off that. I also suck at titles once again. Hopefully, you’ll enjoy it nonny! Like, reblog, and comment to let me know what you think!! Enjoy!!!

The gifs is not mine, credit to the owner.

“We’ll be landing in 5. Buckle up you two.” Natasha called over her shoulder from the pilot seat. Steve and Bucky were quick to find their seats, eager to finally be home.

The three had been out on a two-month-long recon mission, getting intel for Hydra’s latest activities. It wasn’t incredibly taxing, but just when they thought they’d ring out all the information they’d get from someone, another new lead would pop up they’d have to check out. By the end of it, the two super soldiers were vibrating with anticipation for their arrival. While both were excited about being back where they were safe and comfortable, they had a whole separate reason for their excitement.

Bucky glanced over at Steve, grinning widely at the identical look on Steve’s face. It had been two long, almost painful months without their other half. Y/N was understanding that there would be days or even weeks were the two soldiers would be radio silent. It still didn’t hurt less when they had to say their quick goodbyes at the beginning of every mission. Y/N would just smile that perfect understanding smile and would see the two off. They hadn’t been able to speak with her since that morning they left and were more than ready to make up lost time.

“You two look like you’re about to explode,” Natasha smirked. Steve let out a soft laugh, his cheeks burning. Natasha knew exactly what had the two soldiers in such a good mood, and it couldn’t be helped that their giddiness rubbed off on her. “Try not to trample her like the last time.”

Bucky rolled his eyes, ignoring her quip. They didn’t trample her, they just happened to charge full speed into her arms. It wasn’t their fault they knocked her off her feet in a tangle of limbs on the ground. They were just happy to see her again. Steve and Bucky exchanged a final look before the jet landed at the compound, both grinning from ear to ear. They both took in a deep breath to calm down as best they could, unclipping the seat belts as the hatch at the back opened.

“Grab your shit!” Natasha called after them before they could run out. The two grumbled under their breath. “I took care of your stuff last time. I’m not that nice a second time.”

Bucky muttered something unintelligible under his breath, stalking over to grab his pack. Steve caught whatever he said and chuckled, picking up his own pack to throw over his shoulder. Natasha simply rolled her eyes. It was like she asked them to scrub the whole jet down, not just grab their bags. Big babies, she thought with a fond smile.

Stepping out of the jet, they frowned when they noticed a missing face. Wanda stood off to the side, talking with Clint and Sam. Sam noticed the two emerge and waved with a smile.

“Well, aren’t you two a sight of sore eyes!” He greeted them, meeting them at the bottom of the ramp.

“Where’s Y/N?” Bucky question, looking around in hopes to find her somewhere. Sam scowled, crossing his arms across his chest.

“Hello to you too, Barnes. Is this you crappy form of a hello after almost six weeks no contact? Cause if so, you need to relearn how to people.” Sam remarked dryly.

Bucky leveled him with a glare, mentally debating whether or not it would be worth throttling Sam. Steve, fortunately, stepped in before things could escalate.

“Sorry, we’re both a little tired. It’s good to see you to Sam.” Steve said, placing a hand on Bucky’s arm. “That being said, do you know where she is? She’s usually the first person here.”

Wanda giggled and elbowed Sam’s side. He grunted, glowering over his shoulder at the smaller woman.

“Let them be Sam.” She chastised and turned back to Steve. “I think she’s still in her room. She wasn’t feeling well yesterday, and we haven’t seen her since.”

Worry and dread filled the two soldiers, both beginning panicking. They glanced at each other and were already pushing around the three to the doors. No one was really surprised, and while Wanda wasn’t lying, she didn’t tell them the whole truth. Really, Y/N was fine, if not a little under the weather. She probably just slept through her alarms, the cold medicine she took most likely knocked her out. They’d figure it out though, no need to rush after them.

“What? I don’t get a hello?” Clint shouted at the closing door. He turned to Sam with a sulk, his lower lip jutting out. “Am I not good enough for them?”

Sam chuckled, clapping both hands on to Clint’s shoulders. “It’s not you babe. It’s them. Don’t worry. You’re good enough for me.”

Clint was less than amused, his expression dropping.

“I hate you.” He muttered and walked over to the jet. Sam gasped dramatically, clutching at his chest. Wanda giggled, watching as Sam took after in pursuit.

“You take that back! Clint! Why don’t you love me?! Come back!”

Steve and Bucky didn’t stop, not even when Tony tried to flag them down. They were both on the same track mind, to find Y/N and make sure she was safe. Their hearts were like thundering in the ears. Why had no one checked on her? What state was she in? Taking long hurried strides, they both skidded to a halt in front of her door and swung it open.

Y/N had just sat up with her comforter draped over her head, groaning low. Her head was seconds away from exploding, her throat felt like someone stripped a layer of skin off, and her entire body ached. What she thought was only a little tickle in the back of her throat turned into a horrible head cold overnight.

Absently, she reached for a tissue and was ready to blow her nose when her door burst open. She let out a squeak, with caused her head to throb and throat to scream out in pain simultaneously. She groaned, rubbing both spots while glancing at her doorway.

Steve and Bucky heard her moan of pain and were by her side in a second. Bucky reached her first and sat down beside her, worry clouding his face. Blearily blinking up at him, her cold addled brain struggled to comprehend who was sitting beside her. She knew they were coming home soon, but it just slipped her mind it was today.

“Doll, what’s wrong?” Bucky smoothed a hand down her back, while Steve took up the spot next to her. She melted into Steve’s touch, his hand significantly cooler against her forehead than her skin felt. Steve frowned, startled.

“You’re burning up.” He spotted the box of cold medicine on her bedside table and the collection of used tissues in and beside the trash bin. Y/N groaned, loudly blowing into the tissue. “Y/N?”

“The worst has happened. There’s no hope.” She muttered nasally. Bucky frowned and nudged for her to continue. She let out another dramatic groan. “I’m sick. Save yourselves.”

The two laughed, Bucky burying his face in a hand while Steve shook his head. Leave it to Y/N to make things over dramatic.

“The worst has not happened. You’ll be fine.” He chuckled and rose. “When’s the last time you’ve had medicine? Or food and water for that matter?”

The silence was answer enough for Steve. Y/N at least looked a little guilty. Bucky laughed and shook his head.

“I’ll go get you some soup and some more meds. Bucky will stay and keep you company till I get back.” Steve said as he bent down and pressed a kiss to her temple. She mumbled a thank you, giggling softly when he brushed her hair back from her face.

Bucky scooped her up in his arms, pulling her towards the center of the bed. While he got situated with Y/N between his legs, Steve passed over the box of tissues. He watched the two for a moment longer, the smile growing larger as Bucky pressed his cool metal palm to her forehead. Y/N let out a sigh of relief, eyes fluttering shut from relief. If he didn’t step away now, Steve doubt he’d leave the room anytime soon.

“I’ll be right back. Don’t do anything crazy you two.”

Bucky watched him leave, humming softly in acknowledgment. Turning back to Y/N, he watched her settle into his arms, clutching at her comforter he tenderly wrapped her in. He gently kissed the side of her face, lips lingering on her skin. She sighed in content, knowing full well they’d take care of her.

This wasn’t what either of the soldiers envisioned coming home to, but neither was upset. They were just happy to finally be home with Y/N safely in their arms.

#stucky x reader #steve rogers x reader x bucky barnes #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #steve rogers fanfiction #reader insert #bucky barnes imagine #steve rogers imagine #bucky barnes fanfic #steve rogers fanfic #bucky barnes #steve rogers #marvel #marvel imagine #marvel fanfiction #marvel fic #anon request #fluff

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greekowl87 · 7 years ago

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Fic: False Flags Redux 9/13

(1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) | AO3

And, as always, thanks to @mulders-boyish-enthousiasm and @scully-loves-ruthie for helping make this possible. And thanks to everyone who has read, commented, liked, and reblogged this story. Tagging @today-in-fic .

9/13

Yorktown, Virginia October 12, 1862

Scully brought her wool shawl around her as she held her basket close to her chest and struggled down the muddy main street back to the small farmhouse that she and Mulder shared with an old man and his wife. By now, she honestly thought they’d be in Richmond by now but with the war and the Union’s undying peninsula campaign, she was just happy to be alive and with Mulder by their side. So they went into a small lull of paradise living in Yorktown. In an agreement, they kept up their appearances as Katherine and William, a young couple who had yet to be married. A young couple who had given up their wedding bands in favor of their lives never allowed the chance to marry, with all family dead. But things had changed. Tomorrow morning, despite the union occupation, they were ready to tie the knot, officially, well, Katherine and William were on paper, but it would her and him, as Dana Scully and Fox Mulder, officially husband and wife. But it made her smile. False names, false lives, but her and Mulder were genuine. For the first time in her life, she could remember being happy.

Scully kicked a loose pebble stuck in the mud as she trudged through the main street towards the carriage house she and Mulder lived in on the small farm. As she neared the property, she went to the main house first to drop off her basket from the market. She opened the door and undid her shaw, placing the basket on the kitchen table. “Sharon, I’m back!” she called.

“In here, Katherine. We, um, have a visitor.”

Scully stiffened, her hand dancing around her apron where she wore the knife that she hid in her dress. “Where’s William?” she called, thinking of Mulder.

“With me.”

Well, she thought, if they weren’t dead, then things had to somewhat safe. She relaxed and forced a smile on her face and walked into the sitting room. Mulder instantly rose first, holding out his hand to her. Scully grasped his hand tightly and glanced at the old couple who took them in, Walter and Sharon Skinner, and then the stranger, a familiar man dressed in a Union officer’s uniform. Scully felt Mulder’s arm come around her possessively and she gave a weak smile.

“Charlie," Scully greeted him stiffly.

Mulder loosened his grip on the mention of her younger brother’s name. Scully turned to him and placed a calming hand on his chest. “It’s Charlie, my brother,” she whispered, “we’re okay.”

Mulder focused on her and nodded. Mulder had never met any of Scully's family but he knew their names. Scully rubbed Mulder's arm soothingly. “Charlie, how did you find me?”

“Can we speak in private, Katherine?”

Mulder did not let her go and the old farmer, Walter, stood angrily. “I will not be demeaned in my own house, nor will they! I tolerate the Union Army but I will not be belittled in my own home.”

“I mean you no harm, sir. And my apologies” Charlie bowed in humility. “I have searched for my sister so long. It’s been months since I last received a letter from her.”

Mulder arched an eyebrow suspiciously. It had been months since Scully attempted to write her family. Mulder pulled her closer as Charlie gazed at Mulder cautiously before looking at Walter. “It is okay, Mr. Skinner,” Scully said, hugging Mulder. “This is my youngest brother.”

“Are you sure, Catherine?”

“Yes. I would recognize him anywhere." She could feel Charlie's gaze bearing into Mulder and the fact he held her. "I’ll bring William with me. I wish to talk to him in private.” Mulder’s eyes never left the union officer’s face, staring at him with contempt. “It’s okay, William.” Her hands came out and rubbed his arms. “William. It’s okay.” He nodded. Scully took a deep breath and turned to their benefactors. “We’ll be okay, Walter.”

The bald farmer eyed the union officer wearily. “Sharon and I will be out in the kitchen if yout need anything.”

The three watched the old couple leave before the Union office hissed at Scully. “What the hell were you thinking, Dana, running off with the Union coming?”

Mulder released Scully and watched Scully immediately grow stern, fostering a presence he had only seen in private in between them. He saw a strong and capable woman and he fell in love with her even more and his heart soared. “Mulder,” she began, motioning to the officer, “this is Lieutenant Charles Scully, my contact, and youngest brother.”

"Mulder?" The youngest Scully glared at Mulder. “Dana, this was your contact?”

She wrapped her arms defensively around herself and walked to the window. “Scully, you okay?” Mulder asked softly.

“I’m fine,” she replied, giving him a small smile.

“Dana, what happened to your husband? Your mission?”

Mulder looked at the new stranger. “He was wounded in the thigh during the battle of the ironclads. Damn fool took one of the rifles from my marines to fire on the ship and shore.” Mulder spoke brusquely.

Charlie turned to gather and measure Mulder and Scully stormed in between them. She caught Mulder’s hand gently, instantly calming him and the action did not go unnoticed by her brother. “Where is your husband, Dana?”

“Dead as far as I am concerned,” she shrugged. “I haven’t heard from him since he transferred Mulder to ‘watch over me.’”

“Then why is he still here?”

"We escaped when the Union came to Norfolk. We thought it was best if we ran."

"You letter indicated Richmond. Why are you not there?"

"The opportunity never presented to itself."

"Then why are you still here?"

“I love him.”

Mulder smiled and fought from letting it showed, despite the tense situation, but he remained silent but he loved Dana Scully more than ever. “You love him, Dana? You’re a married woman!”

“I am a person,” she detested hotly. "And as far as I am concerned. A widow. I do not know if Franklin is alive or not. I do not know where he is."

“A fallen woman,” her brother echoed ominously.

“My life is my decision, Charlie.”

“You risk our cause, Dana! All for what? This man?”

“This is the man who got you your information,” she yelled. “He risked everything for is. Isn't it enough I trust him with my life?”

“So much you forsake your own marriage? Who are you now?”

“What marriage?” she answered heatedly. “I hated him. As far as the world is concerned, my husband is dead, Dana Buchanan is dead. I'm Dana Scully once more. And I am to marry Fox Mulder this Sunday, officially, in front of a Catholic priest. I would appreciate if you were there.”

The invitation left the air bitter as Charlie chewed his jaw. "If I could find you, and if Buchanan is alive, Dana, how do you know he won't find you?"

“The question I should be asking is how you found us,” Scully countered.

“Do not turn this around to be about me, Dana.”

“If you found me, what is to make me think we are safe anywhere?” Scully turned to Mulder, fear and worry etched in her face. “Mulder, we can’t stay here.”

“Scully, calm down,” he said softly. He hesitated before reaching out to grasp her hand. His other hand cupped her cheek. He could feel Charlie's scorching gaze. “We’re safe here. No one has found us.”

“How long, Mulder before someone does?”

Mulder glanced at her youngest brother wearily. He debated whether to go any further with revealing his identity. She sensed his hesitation and took his hand. “Charlie is okay, Mulder,” she whispered affectionately. “It would be big brother Bill you would have to worry about. You can trust him. We're safe.”

Charlie relaxed slightly seeing his sister open up to this towering stranger which he regarded with distrust. “Dana, who is this man anyways to you,” he asked, forcing himself to calm his demeanor.

“My real name is Fox Mulder,” the tall man replied, straightening up to his full height. He held out his hand in greeting. “Former lieutenant in the Confederate marines, and before that, a captain in the United States Army, and used to be a spy.”

“You were Dana’s contact,” Charlie asked, shaking the hand reluctantly. “The mysterious ‘M.’”

“M. for mysterious?” He chuckled. He cast a sideways glance at Scully. “Scully, you make me sound more appealing than I am.”

“You very appealing, Mulder,” she murmured affectionately.

“Mr. Mulder, or should I say, Mr. Healey?” Charlie asked.

“Healey,” he specified. “We are a young married couple who never actually had a chance to marry. Officially.”

“Beauty of poor wartime record keeping,” Scully added.

"Right."

“I will be outside with Walter.” He kissed her cheek softly and squeezes her hand. “Just holler.”

With that, he left brother and sister standing awkwardly in the small kitchen. Scully crossed her arms defensively. She gazed outside and watched Mulder walk towards the small outcrop of buildings, waving in greeting to Walter and Sharon. She looked at her baby brother critically. “How did you find me, Charlie?”

“You have a bounty hunter after your...partner.”

Scully overlooked his snide comment. “What bounty hunter? We covered our tracks.”

“Apparently not well enough,” he murmured.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“You were supposed to stay put in Norfolk.”

“What good would I do with the army occupying that city? I would have sat there, bored to tears. No, I did what I thought was best. It’s my life, Charlie. Not anyone else.”

“You were always too headstrong, Dana,” he sighed. “What about dad?”

“I did not want to marry that man. He is close to twenty years my senior, Charlie. He is dad’s age. It’s vile. I despised being married to him for several years. He already has nine children. He does not need me for that.”

Charlie looked down at the ground. “Mom would kill from grandchildren, you know that, Dae.”

“Because Missy choose the freer lifestyle, the responsibility of continuing the family line falls on me? I don’t think so,” she said defiantly. “Bill has three children, I know you’re wife is expecting soon, right?”

“We lost him two months ago, Dana."

"I'm sorry," she choked."

He waved off the condolances. "I could not contact you because I did not know where you were. Jesus, you just ran off with some stranger!”

“He is not just some stranger,” she hissed. Scully’s voice took on an edge that held ages’ worth of devotion and love for Mulder. “He is everything to me, Charlie. Everything. I have never felt such life and hope until I met him. I trust him, more than anyone else on this Earth, and not just with my life, my heart as well.”

Charlie gazed at her for a moment. “That’s a lot coming from you, Dae.”

“I mean every word.”

He weighed what he said next carefully. “Does he make you happy, Dana?”

“Yes,” she answered simply.

He nodded. “I have duty come a calling. I am stationed here until February but come to the yellow house by the river if you can meet. That’s where I am staying. Maybe I can meet your new…”

“Husband,” she said.

“Husband." He licked his lips. You haven’t actually married, have you?”

“I already told you. We haven'. Yet. This Sunday, hopefully. I want to, but with our names…” Scully shook her head. “We’ll be by. When is convenient?”

“Tomorrow night around eleven. We’ll be safe and have privacy.” He gently kissed his sister's cheeks. “Till tomorrow, Dana.”

. . . .

Holiday Inn at the Airport Norfolk, Virginia December 19, 1998

Scully stretched as she regained consciousness, sleeping lingering around the edges of her perception. She stretched, like she usually did, feeling her muscles stretch but her morning ritual was stopped by a warm solid body pretzeled around hers. With her movement, a large hand from the arm resting around her midsection flexed against her abdomen, lingering over her fresh bullet scar from New York before caressing her skin lightly. Then a soft kiss on her shoulder and a large nose nuzzling her cheek.

It had been real. Not a dream from a lifetime ago.

“Hmph. What time is it,” he grumbled into her hair.

She blinked away the sleep from her eyes and saw darkness except for light from the parking lot lights filtering through the hotel window. “The sun hasn’t even risen yet.”

“Hmph. Go back to sleep.”

“Mulder.”

But he only answered her with a soft snore. Scully smiled and took the moment of silence to take in the moment. Ever since she had reclaimed her past memories of the 19th century, she had dreamed about Mulder, about moments like this. Scully had always some attraction to Mulder. She probably did not remember when it started, likely their first case when she had thrown herself into his arms half naked in fear of mosquito bits when the power had gone out. She remembered his hands smoothing over her back and the shivers she had gotten afterward. Maybe it had been then because that was when the fantasies had started, always starting with the lingering sensation she recalled of his hand on her shoulder.

But now. She snuggled against his chest as he was spooning her from behind. It had been so long since she had been touched like this. Sure, she hugged and kissed her mother but that was obligatory. She yearned for Mulder’s subtle touches, even if she would not admit it to herself, but now. This very moment. It was not a dream. Holy hell. It was real. Last night had actually happened.

She turned with difficulty to face Mulder, his arms hanging around her, their legs entwined in a knot. She raised her hand slightly and touched her cheek lightly with her index finger, tracing his features slowly, as if trying to memorize him and this moment.

They did. They actually did it.

A part of Scully expected a cheerleading squad and the Philadelphia Phillies mascot to burst in her hotel room and celebrate this momentous achievement, but she settled for his quiet breathing instead. She pressed her hand to his chest, feeling his heartbeat strong against her palm. He was alive. He was here. He was with her.

“Mulder,” she spoke softly, caressing his cheek.

His eyes fluttered open and focused on her. He stretched as his hands lazily played up and down her sides. “Morning, Scully.”

“Morning yourself, Hot Stuff?”

“Hot Stuff? Really?”

Scully wrapped her arms around his neck, pushing against him. “Mm-Hmm. I am myself, all at once.”

Mulder was quiet and stroked his hair. “Everything?”

“Well, this lifetime and the last. I remember. Clear as day.”

“Everything?” he asked again.

“Everything,” she confirmed, kissing his lips. “No regrets?”

“No regrets,” he smiled pushing back her hair. “I don’t remember everything, but enough. I remember you. I'll always remember you.”

“I was married to him, Mulder, in my last life.” The words sounded foreign on her lips as she admitted to a past life, but it felt right. “But you. You saved me.”

“We’re key to this,” he admitted softly. “Whether we like it or not.”

“We can’t tell anyone,” she said, resting her forehead against his chest.

“We won’t,” he affirmed. His arms came around like a cocoon and she closed her eyes. His words came from two lifetimes of experiences and love. “There is only you, remember that, Scully. You’re the only one that matters.”

. . . .

FBI Field Office Norfolk, Virginia December 18, 1998

Mulder watched Scully sit in a conference room through the window, watching the television intently, a file and notepad sitting in front of her. After last night, she quietly told them in their rental car she wanted to watch the interview videos alone once they got to the field office, citing what they had originally intended last night. Mulder was making use of a spare desk out in their bullpen, his original profile and the evidence of his journal from his imprisonment. He sipped the bitter coffee as he hunched over the journal. But Mulder could not bring himself to read Buckley’s personal journal. His thoughts kept drifting to Scully.

He glanced at the conference room across the way and saw his partner before refocusing on the task laying in front of him but he could not focus at all. He rubbed his hand across his face and a memory, unspurned and unhurried flooded his senses, and he closed his eyes. He could feel her tender touch against the nape of his neck...was it from the 19th century or from last night?

I love you, Mulder, she breathed into his ear.

Had she said that? Did she say that?

Mulder felt himself shiver uncontrollably. He felt the ghostly sensations of her touch lingering. Mulder, her ghostly form had called.

His present self-pushed his work forward on the borrowed desk and stormed to towards the conference room where his partner was in. He slammed the door shut, starling her. He drew the blinds closed and looked at her hungrily. Scully causally paused the VHS tape and stayed focused on the television screen.

“It’s chaotic, isn’t it?” she asked

She was still facing the fuzzy television screen and Mulder slouched against the door as if the new memories threatened to crush him.

“Scully.”

He called her name. She flashbacked to a memory from her previous life. Mulder screaming in the middle of the night from nightmares. She remembered, her older self, cradling him protectively, kissing away his tears. “I’m here, Mulder. I’m here.”

When had she spoken those words? This life or the other? She glanced at the closed blinds quickly before cradling his large, lanky form against her. Scully allowed her older self to guide her current body. She held his lanky form against her in a tight hug the best she could. He pressed his face into her neck trying to steady his breathing, clutching her like an anchor to reality. She kissed the nape of his neck and ran her hands up and down his back soothingly.

“Focus on the present,” she whispered, recalling how thinking about Mulder was the only thing that kept her centered. “Think about me. This moment is real, Mulder. This is the present. This is our lives.” She lowered her voice and whispered in his ear. “Last night was real.”

Mulder sighed against her as the rush of memories ebbed to a dull throbbing in the back of his mind as he focused on the moment of Scully cradling him. “I’m sorry,” he managed. He tried to get up but ended up slouching beside her. Scully took his hand and squeezed it. “I can’t...I can’t separate now from then,” he admitted quietly. “I know how you must've felt. After last night, everything’s come back in full force. We were a hot item, Scully.”

“We’re a hot item now,” she murmured softly. Scully slouched next to him against the door and turned her head to look at him. “I know what you mean. It’s overwhelming, isn’t it?”

“How did you do it?” he whispered. “Separating everything?”

“It is not necessarily separated but rather, but blended together. I am myself all at once. And I had you.” She took a deep breath, resisting the urge to touch him. She corrected herself. “I have you, Mulder. I’ve always had you.”

Mulder took a deep breath, focusing on Scully. She caressed his cheek. “We have work to do,” she whispered. “We can work this out tonight, okay? I figured out what Buckley wants.”

“We need to tell the ASAC then, Scully,” he replied.

“It’s not that simple. Mulder, do you trust me?”

“Is that even a question?”

“We’ll talk about it tonight then,” she promised.

. . . . .

Mulder’s head was still swimming as he sipped the lukewarm coffee. Scully sat next to him as she had discreetly rubbed his thigh underneath the table in comfort. He felt himself relax a fraction with the soothing sensation of her fingers running against his suit pants. As they gathered with the rest of the other agents and U.S. marshalls, he cast a glance and noted Diana leaning against a corner with her arms crossed. Her dead brown eyes locked with his momentarily and he looked away, focusing instead A cold shiver passed over him and Mulder squeezed Scully’s hand gently, a silent affirmation. Wordless, she returned the squeeze and let her hand go slack in his under the table.

“All right, everyone, listen up!” ASAC called. “Devins, dim the lights!”

“Yes, sir!”

The lights dimmed and a projector came on, displaying a slide of the gruesome murder scene from Hampton the previous day. Scully could hear murmurs of disgust and even an 'Oh my, God' muttered under someone's breath.

“We are losing time, ladies and gentleman,” he began. “Francis Buckley killed yesterday afternoon. This time in Hampton.”

A new slide flashed in place, revealing the blown out brains all over the concrete. Scully grimaced. “According to the autopsy performed by Agent Scully, the victim was killed, execution style with a .44 round projectile at the base of the skull.”

“Executed more like it,” someone commented.

Scully felt herself shiver, rolling her neck side to side as if to shake the cold feel of metal being pressed against her skull. Mulder squeezed her hand and stood up, walking towards the front of the group. “Buckley is growing more reckless,” Mulder began. The slide changed to Buckley’s original mugshot when she and Mulder arrested him the year before. “Agent Scully and I captured Buckley after he murdered three people. There were no connections between the first three victims and there is nothing connecting the current victim. He was your run of the mill murderer. In the first three, there was something that was stolen like money or a ring, something of value. This was not the case with this most recent murder.”

He took a deep breath and let his gaze linger on Scully before continuing. “He has acted out, lashed out. I reviewed all recorded interviews with him over the past week and he shows signs of mental instability.”

“What about his belief in past lives, Agent Mulder?” Diana spoke up from the back.

Mulder’s hazel eyes darted to the darkened corner and saw Diana standing with her arms crossed, looking expectantly at him. She was challenging and trying to bait him. "And what about past lives, Agent Fowley?”

Scully heard the coldness of his tone and she shifted in her seat to see Diana's reaction. “His journal indicates he is aware of past lives, his own in fact. Wouldn't you agree that has an impact on the current case.”

“Multiple personalities. He has been diagnosed as schizophrenic in the past,” Mulder answered easily, not indulging Diana. “It is not my place to investigate the claims you are insinuating, Agent Fowley.”

“It used to be.”

The entire task force was now caught up in the soap opera drama between Spooky Mulder and Agent Fowley. “I no longer run the X-Files. My job is to catch a killer. Since we are on the topic of mental instabilities, this is a new addition. The thought of multiple personalities is a real possibility.” He looked at the group of agents. “This makes it harder to predict him. In your handouts, you have my updated profile.”

“Thank you, Agent Mulder,” the ASAC nodded.

Mulder returned to his seat beside Scully quietly. “Now, we are going public, hoping someone will have some information. The marshalls are helping us. We are going to hold a press conference and be brief as possible in explaining the situation in the next day or two. That’s it for now. Get to work, people.”

Scully gathered her notes and Mulder did the same as Diana stormed to Mulder. Scully glanced at her partner wordlessly and he whispered, “Why don’t you get our things together,” he whispered. “I’ll meet you out by our rental.”

She heard the tightness in his voice but she nodded, replying, “I’ll be outside in the car waiting.”

Mulder passed her the rental keys and Scully left. Mulder took in the measure of his former partner and ex-wife. Memories blurred for him between what was and what was happening. Scully. Just thinking about her made him feel grounded and centered. He took a deep breath and looked at Diana. “What the hell was that, Fox?”

“What was what?”

Mulder looked at her evenly. “I am here to catch a killer, Diana, not chase wild theories about past lives.”

“You didn’t use to be like this, Fox. I know that look you have in your eye. You are considering the possibility.”

Mulder recalled Scully’s hands against his body from last night and centuries ago. How she made him feel. Alive. Whole. Complete. He tried to push past her. “You aren’t my partner, Diana. Scully is.”

“So you follow her science now? She is holding you back.”

Just the opposite. Mulder recalled the tension between him and Scully and now he knew, he only trusted Scully. No one else. Mulder did not grace with Diana with a reply. “I need to go.”

. . . .

Scully shivered as she turned up the heat in the car as she waited for Mulder to come join her so they could head back to their hotel. The gray overcast sky, which she had just noticed, opened up and began to snow. She sighed, her mind replaying the day. Mulder looked so uncertain, earlier that afternoon when she held him and beheld the same old age in his eyes that she had. She jumped when the car door open letting in him in and he slammed it shut. Mulder silently gripped the steering wheel, the whites of his knuckles showing. Scully gently placed her gloved hand on his forearm as he relaxed. “Scully,” he whispered softly, “I’m so sorry.”

“Sorry?” she asked softly. “For what?”

“I couldn’t protect you. It was my fault. When he caught us in Yorktown. I should have protected the both of you.” He closed his eyes and leaned backward. "I should have protected you."

It took her a moment to realize what he was referring to, her vision of her own execution and he was remembering. She bit her lip and whispered, “It was not you, Mulder. It wasn’t your fault. It’s already done. You didn't cause us to be caught. You weren't the one who killed me.”

“I should have done more,” he bemoaned.

“Take us back to the hotel, Mulder, we need to talk.”

. . . . .

Holiday Inn at the Airport Norfolk, Virginia December 19, 1998

Scully recognized when he would withdraw into himself and martyr himself to guilt. He sat on her hotel bed in his jeans and a green knit sweater. Mulder’s legs were crossed as he leaned back into the pillows, his eyes closed in thought, his arms raised, cradling his head, and his eyes closed. Scully wore a pair of black jeans and her University of Maryland hoodie. She sat at the edge of the bed and resisted the urge to reach out and touch him to comfort him. The silence was deafening.

After last night, Scully wanted to act on that new intimacy that they had created (or rediscovered) last night. “Mulder.”

His eyes opened and focused on her. She wanted to do so much more. She quietly sat next to him, closer to the headboard, and wordless brought her hand to his chest, resting it on his heart. The uneasy silence he was unsure how to operate in this new space they had created. Mulder quietly released his arms and wrapped it around Scully’s shoulders and brought her towards his chest. As foreign as it seemed, it felt so natural. Scully relaxed and melted to his side. He sighed, relaxing as she ran her hand lightly across his stomach.

“I don’t know what we are going to do, Scully,” he whispered.

“We need to remember everything,” she replied.

“What do you remember?”

She looked up at him before looking back down, wrapping her leg around his waist and his own. “I was married to him. I remembered this morning. He was my husband for seven years, and you...you were one of his officers.”

“A marine. I remember seeing you for the first time. I felt my heart seize in my chest and your eyes, Scully.”

“What about my eyes?”

“When you walked into the basement office, you looked so cute decked out in that god awful jacket. But, you looked me in the eye and never winced away. Everyone else did.”

“Why would I do that?”

Mulder was safe. Mulder was always safe with her.

She closed her eyes and her mind drifted as a new memory took over. A ship. There were on a ship. No. Not a ship. A hammock? “Well, I tend to make people want to stay away.”

“Lucky for me because I get to keep you all for myself.”

A silence engulfed them as Scully detangled herself from Mulder reluctantly and he was already wishing she was back against his side. “What could you not tell me earlier today,” he asked softly.

Scully blinked, recalling her brief conversation with Mulder. She shifted hesitantly, looking down at the comforter, playing with the hem of her jeans. “How much...how much do you remember, Mulder?”

He sat straighter up and leaned back into the pillows and crossed his arms. “I told you already. Enough,” he answered tentatively.

“You know, in that life, Buckley was my husband,” she repeated in a whisper. “Captain Franklin Buchanan.”

“Who was I, Scully?”

“He was a navy captain in the Confederacy during the Civil War. You were a lieutenant on his ship,” she spoke slowly, watching him close his eyes. She reached for his hand, grasping it lightly. “You saw me in the street once. But it was at a dinner party, and I just knew you had to be the one.”

“What happened?”

“We were spies, Mulder,” she spoke softly. “Well, I dragged you into it, but we were spies.”

“Like Moose and Squirrel,” he teased lightly. “Not that different I suppose.”

She gave a small smile. “Well, after a few months, things between us moved quickly and the Union retook Norfolk. We decided to run.”

“Together.” It was a statement rather than a question. She nodded again. “He wants revenge. Revenge…”

Mulder was already in full profiler mood, analyzing what could and could not be. “I’m going to bed, Mulder,” she spoke quietly.She slid off the hotel bed and kissed his cheek, startling him out of his reverie. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning, Mulder.”

“You’re not staying?” he asked, surprised.

“We still have a case, Mulder.” She hesitated before placing a brief kiss on his cheek and giving him a cheeky smile before disappearing into the adjoining room.

. . . .

Yorktown, Virginia October 12, 1862

That night was colder than Scully had anticipated and her thin cloak was failing to keep her warm. Mulder walked beside her small form and she felt his arm come around her waist and pull her closer. She gazed at him knowingly and he just smiled. “You know I’m a rebel.”

“Used to be,” she whispered. “Thank you for doing this.”

Mulder kissed her lovingly as they came to the end of the muddy main street and large white building that sat near the shore of the York River. She felt him grow tense as they approached a fortified area with Union soldiers. She placed a calming hand over his heart as the came closer to the white building and coiled around her slightly like a large shadow. Subtly, she led Mulder up the steps past the Union soldiers as if they were not there. He was quiet as she opened the door and ushered them inside. In the receiving room, Scully saw her brother standing in the common room in front of the fire. Scully patted his chest before untangling herself from him. She took a few steps forward. “Was that really necessary, Charlie? The soldiers?”

“They’re my men, well, Major Howe’s men.” The Union Lieutenant turned to face his sister and took full measure of Mulder. “You can’t be too careful, Dana. How do you know you can trust him?”

Mulder gritted his teeth as Scully turned, to look at him, willing him silently to calm. “Because I do, Charlie,” she replied tensely. “That should be good enough for you. I trust him just as he trusts me. He is a deserter and a spy. I am a spy and if either one of us is caught, we are dead. How did you find me?”

He held up a finger and withdrew from his breast pocket a stack of letters. “They were hoping I would see you since they have not heard from you since April.”

“Well,” Scully huffed, “it was not like I had the time to.”

“Because of him.”

“Charlie, stop it. My choices are mine alone. Mulder had nothing to do with us running except for following me. You detested Franklin. Only because Missy decided to be the free spirit and go to Europe so I had to marry. Bill is the perfect son. Missy is the black sheep. I have to be the perfect child. You can do as you please. How is that fair?”

“You’re a woman, Dana. It’s expected.”

Mulder used all of his willpower to keep quiet. He understood where her brother was keeping from, Mulder understood societal tradition. But Charlie did not know Scully, his Scully. He only knew Dana. He reached out his hand slightly to her in affirmation. Discreetly, she squeezed it while keeping her attention on Charlie.

“If it is expected that in place of my husband’s death to find a new husband than I did.”

“You’re husband’s not dead,” Charlie answered softly, watching Mulder. “Captain Buchanan was promoted admiral and resides in Alabama. He is still recovering from his thigh wound.”

Mulder lowered his eyes in shame. What was he doing? Scully sensed the change and turned suddenly to look at him She cupped his face and suddenly there was only them. She caressed his temples with her thumbs and smiled. “I regret nothing,” she murmured. “Stay?” He nodded. “Thank you.”

“Who are you, Mr. Mulder, to my sister?”

He looked up at Charlie and took measure of the other man. Scully released his face as Mulder grew more confident knowing he had her. “Fox Mulder, former Lieutenant of Confederate Marines, and before that, Lieutenant of the United States Army, adjunct to the war office.”

“Seriously,” Charlie laughed. “Didn’t you graduate from Virginia Military Institute?”

“What if I did?”

“Mulder, it’s okay,” Scully soothed.

“I am not implying anything, good sir. I heard stories about you when I went there myself. I was two years behind you in class.”

“That’s why I picked him, Charlie. He knows what he is doing.”

“Hmph.” The younger Scully stalked to the fire. “Tomorrow night, Dana. I desire to see you again. I want you to come alone.”

“Charlie.”

“It’s non-negotiable, Dana.”

. . . .

Scully shivered and turned into Mulder’s warmth in their small bed above the Skinner’s coach house. He sighed, kissing her forehead as he disappeared and came back with two wool blankets and draped it over their bed. Mulder crawled beneath the blanket and held her as she began to cry.

. . . .

Holiday Inn by the Airport Norfolk, Virginia December 18, 1998

Mulder awoke when he heard a door close. Still groggy with sleep, he sat up only to feel a warm, soothing hand across his chest, resting quietly against his heart. A petite figure crawled beneath the covers of his hotel bed, coiling around him like a snake. He felt the warmth of freshly fallen tears as she nuzzled his chest. His arm came around her instantly. “Scully?” he murmured.

“I love you,” she cried silently. “I love you, Mulder.”

Half raked with sleep and old memories. He pulled her close, remembering an odd night where he had held her in a small bed in some carriage house. “We’re going to be okay,” he whispered, kissing her hair, his own voice sounding foreign, “we’ll be okay. We'll figure this out, Scully. Just you and me, like always.”

#false flags redux #xfiles #xf fic #msr #msr fic #mulder and scully #mulder #scully #diana fowley #txf #txf fic

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jarienn972 · 7 years ago

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The Right Place - Chapter Seven

I have to apologize that I’m a little behind getting chapters posted here on Tumblr as the past few weeks have been a literal hurricane around here. My family was very fortunate to never lose power and suffered no real damage other than a few scratches from debris hitting our car but many of my friends weren’t as lucky. I managed to get a lot of writing done last weekend while waiting out Irma and have additional chapters of this story already up on both AO3 and FF.net. I’ll try to have them up on Tumblr over the next few days for those who are following this story. Thank you to everyone who has reblogged and liked these chapters!

From the beginning on Tumblr: Prologue/Chap One Chap Two Chap Three Chap Four Chap Five Chap Six

Tuesday evening, Portland Medical Center

Killian woke with a start, soaked with sweat and trembling as his mind forced him to relive those events in the form of an all too vivid dream – or more correctly a too real nightmare. He knew his heart was racing so he tried to focus on relaxing, slowing the thundering inside his chest before it garnered the unwanted attention of the nurse. Pushing through the aches and pains, he made himself take a deep breath, exhaling slowly as he leaned forward, determined to force himself out of this hospital bed. It wasn't as easy as he thought it might be but he somehow managed to swing his legs over the side, his bare toes scarcely grazing the chilly tile floor when he felt the warm touch of a hand on his shoulder.

"What are you doing?" his wife asked, her voice sounding quite concerned.

"I don't bloody know," he sighed, not entirely certain how to reply to her question.

"Are you alright? You were twitching and shaking in your sleep."

"Just a dream, Love," he stated rather unconvincingly. "I'm fine."

"I doubt that," she replied, rolling her eyes in disbelief. "It's never 'just' anything with you. Tell me what it was…"

"Nothing more than reliving being stabbed in the back and then nearly drowning," he grumbled. "It was a lot to digest, however as disturbing as it may have been, it might have stirred up some memories I hadn't recalled earlier."

"Okay…," she hesitated, debating whether to allow him to continue and potentially provide some new details or make him lie back down and discuss things in the morning, finally allowing curiosity to prevail. "What did you remember?"

"I suppose I should start from the beginning," he said as he attempted to raise his legs back up into the bed as it sunk in that Emma wasn't going to allow him to leave these confines just yet, finding it even more difficult with gravity opposing him. She noticed his frustration and provided a helping hand to get him comfortable and back under the bedcovers once again. "Thank you," he said with a disgruntled sigh, hating to be so needy as it then dawned on him that his stepson wasn't present in the room with them. "Wasn't Henry here earlier? I wasn't imagining that?"

"You're welcome, and no, you weren't imagining Henry. He went for a walk a few minutes ago. Pretty sure he just went down to the lounge so he could talk to Violet without his mother overhearing. And you – you don't need to push yourself… You don't have to talk about this right now if you don't want to…"

"I'd rather share as much as possible before I find myself hacking up my bloody insides again… Now..., let's see if I can piece all of these jumbled images and the like together into something that makes sense…" He squeezed his eyelids closed momentarily, attempting to formulate coherent thoughts from hazy recollection. "I offered to give the two thieves the doubloons I've stashed away on the Jolly Roger if they'd leave the shopkeeper be, but we never made it back out to where I left her anchored…"

"Okay, that much we knew. Do you remember anything about what happened after you boarded their boat?"

"Aye," he said with a subtle nod. "The seas became rougher as we rounded one of the small islands out in the bay. I could sense that the man at the helm reduced our speed as the waves swelled. So, I took advantage of the choppy sea to antagonize the masked man aiming the pistol at me, goading him into a physical attack as we crested over a sizable swell, causing him to lose the weapon which I retrieved and disposed of. A couple of quick rights to my opponent's jawline put him out of commission so I turned my attention to the second thief. The other one wasn't aggressive – cowering against the bulkhead as I pulled his mask off to reveal the face of an anxious young man. I was about to take over the vessel's helm when I felt the sting of the blade through my back and then looked down to see it protruding from my chest…"

"Killian…, you don't have to…" she reminded him, reading the visible anguish on his face and hearing his voice crack before he paused. "You can stop…"

He only shook his head and continued, retelling the events gradually bolstering his strength. "As I collapsed, I saw the face of the third man – an older man, very different in demeanor than the others. He was far more methodical - clearly used to getting his way – not unlike the Crocodile in that respect… I heard them arguing for a few moments before they tossed me overboard and sped away…"

"And it was after they left you to drown that you think you saw Ursula?" Emma wondered, still on the fence as to whether she believed he wasn't hallucinating by that point.

"I'm certain she was there, Swan. I wasn't near enough to shore to have made it by myself. I was bleeding and quickly succumbing to hypothermia. I'd already failed at an attempt to cling to a buoy that was close enough to reach, but I hadn't the strength to grasp the metal bar wrapped around it…" He took another pause, his tale sounding daft to his own ears so how would he ever convince his wife? "I'd consigned myself to my fate when I felt something surround me – something that lifted me from the water and carried me to the shoreline…"

"A tentacle?"

"Aye – a tentacle. And yes, I know what if feels like to be in the grip of a sea creature's tentacles. It's a sensation one doesn't soon forget, but I also saw a glimpse of her face as I lay on that beach. She was laughing, calling me lucky…"

"Well, I would definitely say that you were pretty damned lucky to have the Sea Witch rescue you," she grinned, eliciting a weak smile from her husband. "But back to the third man – do you think he was the one who organized the robbery?"

"I've no doubt he was the person in charge, but I'm quite certain this wasn't actually a robbery…"

"What do you mean?" It was already one of the theories that she and Deputy McCallen were working with, so she was rather curious how Killian had come to the same conclusion with what he knew.

"My memories may be slightly suspect at the moment, but I'm certain that the older man asked the younger one why they'd brought me instead of the shopkeeper…"

"The shopkeeper – Ms. Scott? They'd intended to kidnap her?"

"I don't know… That's part of what's bothering me...," he replied as he raised his hand to massage an aching temple, fatigue beginning to take its toll yet again. "Before I offered the doubloon, she'd already informed them that she didn't have a lot of cash in the shop. Her till and safe were both mostly empty so they'd eagerly took the bait when I offered my gold, but that apparently wasn't part of the older man's plan."

"I think we need to speak to Deputy McCallen and give him this new information and we'll probably need to have another talk with Jean Scott because this could be a new angle for motivation."

"Perhaps," he sighed, his wounded chest aching from the strain of all of too much talking. Emma recognized that drained expression and decided that he'd done enough for now.

"You look completely wiped. Why don't you let me call the nurse and see if they can give you something for the pain so you can get some rest?"

"You do realize I was asleep for more than two days, correct?"

"Yeah, well, you're still gonna need a lot more of it so your body can heal and so we can get you back home." As she stood, she leaned in over him to tuck the blanket tighter around him as he grumbled some nonsense about being coddled. She planted a brief kiss on his lips before replacing the oxygen mask, completely ignoring his further protests.

Not long after the evening nurse agreed to give Killian a different pain killer to soothe some of his discomfort, he drifted soundly back to sleep, thankfully without suffering another coughing attack. Emma had dozed off herself as well, taking advantage of a few minutes of peace,yet waking to the rumble of her stomach. It hadn't been an easy task to find a comfortable position in the unforgiving chair, but she'd somehow managed. Now, as she stirred, she glanced down at her watch to see that it was after 9PM. No wonder her stomach was growling. She'd been so focused on taking care of Killian, she'd forgotten to grab dinner, suddenly remembering that her son probably hadn't eaten yet either – although she couldn't remember if he'd returned to the room.

She sat up, her eyes drawn to the other chair by the window where she saw Henry leaning against the wall, the glow of his iPhone screen giving his face an unnatural bluish pallor. He must have snuck in while she was napping, surprising her that she'd been sleeping so soundly to not have heard him enter.

"Sorry, Kid," she apologized as she stood up, taking the few steps over to him to yank one of the headphones from his ear. "Guess I slept through dinner, didn't I?"

"You looked exhausted when I got back so I didn't want to bother you. I just went back down to the cafeteria and got us some sandwiches," he pointed a white square takeout container on the counter by the sink with a knowing smile. "It's turkey, not grilled cheese, but I thought it would keep better. There are some potato chips in there too, although I'll admit I ate most of them."

"Thanks," she laughed while retrieving the container before settling back down at her husband's bedside. "Turkey will do just fine." She flipped open the lid to reveal what must have been half of a submarine sandwich with lettuce and what appeared to be cheddar or American cheese poking from beneath the bread. While it certainly wouldn't have been her first choice, she didn't really care what She was eating right now as long as it appeased her protesting stomach. She devoured it quickly – perhaps a tad too quickly as she later cursed herself for eating so fast when plagued by a miserable bout of heartburn. Gulping down half a bottle of water in an attempt to quell the fire, she happened to catch a glimpse of her son snickering at her while popping his earbud back in but she decided to pretend she hadn't noticed.

Turning her attention toward her sound asleep husband, she placed her hand atop his and gave his fingers a gentle squeeze, questioning for a moment if his skin felt a little warmer than earlier. She could hear his slight wheezing as his compromised lungs fought to bring in enough air, remembering that he had reclined the bed a few inches earlier so he didn't feel as though he were falling over when he slept in the upright position. It was significantly easier for him to breathe when his head and chest were raised into that sitting position so she hunted for the controls and brought the bed back to the higher position. He didn't awaken with the movement but he did turn back toward her making it easier to see the crimson flush across his cheeks. The room wasn't exceptionally warm but his temperature definitely had changed.

Immediately, she started scanning the displays of all of the electronic devices that surrounded him seeking out the one that was supposed to be monitoring his body temperature. He'd arrived hypothermic so she knew the nurses had been watching him closely but she found herself overwhelmed by so many different numbers flashing in front of her. She didn't know what most of them meant but she trusted her instinct when it said something was amiss so she didn't hesitate when she smashed her thumb onto the nurses' station call button again, hoping someone would respond faster this time.

"Mr. Jones? How can I help you this evening?" a tinny female voice sounded through the speaker.

"This is Mrs. Jones and something's wrong – he's way too warm…"

"I'll be right there," was the reply and true to her word, the brunette nurse who had provided the pain reliever earlier scurried into the room, meeting Emma at her patient's side. She swiped a device across Killian's temple while scrutinizing the monitors above him trying to determine why she hadn't received an alert. She verified all devices were properly connected – no wires loose or missing so there didn't appear to be reason for a malfunction but the thermometer in her hand and the monitor to Killian's left both displayed the same reading – 103.2 degrees.

The nurse frowned at the numbers, but wasn't entirely surprised by them. When he'd arrived, they'd known he was highly susceptible to infection but the question now was if it was indeed an infection, where had it developed? Was it pneumonia attacking his lungs? Was his wound compromised or was this something entirely different? She raised her stethoscope to her ears, listening for any unusual sounds from her patient's lungs, but everything sounded relatively normal – at least for someone who'd nearly drowned three days ago. His breaths were still somewhat labored, but she highly doubted he'd developed pneumonia. Had a day shift nurse missed a warning sign earlier when she'd changed out the dressing on his wounds?

"His lungs sound okay to me so I'm going to check both of his wounds. Let's start though by getting those covers off of him…" Emma was already tugging off the sweat dampened cotton blanket and sheet, leaving them pooled at his feet. The sheet beneath him and the thin gown that hung from his shoulders were equally soaked. The nurse lowered the gown to his waist to have full view of and access to the bandages being careful not to disturb any of the wires and sensors still adhered to his skin. Unlike the younger nurse earlier, she hadn't taken the time to draw the curtain but modesty was hardly a consideration at the moment. As Emma hovered at the end of the bed, the nurse reached into a box of pale blue latex gloves mounted on the wall above the nightstand, rapidly pulling on a pair before peeling back the tape securing the gauze patch to his chest. The incision and sutures showed some redness and a bit of mild bruising, but the healing tissue wasn't displaying any unusual discharge or unexpected discoloration so the nurse carefully replaced the dressing. "This one looks like it's healing just fine. Now, let's see what the one on his back looks like…"

She didn't enlist Emma's assistance to support Killian's upper body as she leaned him forward, wrapping her own arm across his upper chest, just below his collarbone while her left hand pulled back the upper corner of the smaller gauze bandage covering the entrance wound. This nurse clearly had more experience in this procedure – or was just physically stronger, but it worried Emma that her husband hadn't awakened even while being slightly manhandled. Emma didn't have an angle where she could see the wound on his back this time so she had to go by the nurse's change of expression to judge the situation.

"Does it look alright?" she asked without really thinking, the question popping out of her mouth to Emma's instant regret.

"I'm not sure," the nurse responded, covering up the wound as she guided Killian's unconscious form back against the mattress. "There's a lot of swelling around the entry wound but it could be due to irritation or pressure from his own body weight. It's a little tricky with wounds to the back. Knife wounds are particularly nasty too because the blade can push dirt and bacteria inside the body cavity so whatever is causing this reaction might not be visible from the outside. I'll talk to the doctors but they'll probably want to start him on a more aggressive antibiotic and I'm pretty sure they may want to attempt an MRI as well. For now, I can get him some medication to help lower the fever and we'll get some cooling packs brought in."

"Is there anything I can do?" Emma wondered, suddenly cognizant of the fact that her teenaged son was still present in the room, likely having just witnessed the disturbing sight of his stepfather's incision and overheard a good portion of this conversation.

"When he wakes, try to keep him from overexerting himself for a while – at least for the next twelve hours or so – and that includes talking too much. He really just needs rest more than anything and since this is the first day that he's been conscious, we've obviously had to adapt our plans for treating him. It's wonderful that he's able to communicate, but now he's going to want to get up, walk around but he still has a lot of healing to do. I'm sure he's anxious to get home, but we don't want to rush things. Anyway, I'll be back in a few minutes with the fever reducer."

"Thank you," Emma responded, partially relieved as the nurse peeled off the gloves and hung her stethoscope around her neck before heading off to locate the necessary medication. Her words had left Emma reeling a bit until she finally brought her head back to the realization that while the day had been a flurry of activity, it had really only been a matter of hours since they'd located Killian and even less since he'd awakened. Her perception of time seemed so off as she remembered it was now getting late in the evening and she hadn't even given a thought to where she and Henry were going to spend the night. As Killian's wife and a member of law enforcement, she could argue her point to stay, but the hospital would likely frown on a 15 year old staying here. All she knew was that with Killian fighting a fever and definitely not out of danger, she wasn't leaving him tonight without a fight.

"Mom? What's going on?" Henry finally spoke up, having watched in silence from his spot by the window as his mother called for help. He wanted to pretend that this wasn't serious, but all he'd just seen transpire had been a bit alarming.

"I'm not entirely sure myself, Kid," Emma sighed. "Killian's running a fever that these machines didn't warn anyone about and it's probably from an infection, they just aren't sure yet. The nurse went to get him some medication to hopefully bring the fever down, but that's probably just the start…"

"But other than the cough, he seemed okay earlier?"

"He's still really sick. I had to remind myself of that too and remember that it could be a while before he's back to himself – although as you know, Killian being himself could prove to be a huge challenge to him getting better…" She dropped back into the chair, body and mind exhausted. "Just how much of all of that did you see and hear?"

"You mean did I see that huge cut across Killian's chest when the nurse pulled back the bandage?"

"Yeah, that's part of it…"

"It's okay, Mom. You know I've seen worse," the teen responded sincerely and Emma really couldn't argue with that. No 15 year old boy should have seen some of the horrors he'd experienced – fairytale or not. "Can I ask you a sorta weird question though?"

"Of course – anything," she assured him, although certainly not expecting the inquiry that followed.

"When the nurse had you pull back the covers, was there actually a plastic tube or something coming out from beneath the gown, between his legs…" Henry paused a moment, instantly blushing as he struggled for a way to phrase the rest of the question to his mother whose cheeks were already reddening with the realization of what he was trying to ask.

"Yes, there is," she cut him off without missing a beat to spare them both further embarrassment. "It's called a catheter. Since Killian can't really get up yet to go…" Now she was the one stammering for the right words, but he got the message.

"Ow..." Was her son's stunned response.

"Trust me, Kid – he's so full of pain killers right now, he doesn't even know it's there."

"Think they'll take it out now that he's awake?"

"Well…," she hesitated, unsure of how to answer. "I guess unless you want to help empty bedpans, they'll probably wait until he's strong enough to get up and out of bed on his own."

"What's a bed pan?" Henry wondered, not familiar with the term.

"Use your imagination…" Emma laughed, thoroughly thankful that her son's awkward question had lightened the mood considerably. It gave her a moment to take her mind off of the gravity of Killian's injuries while Henry sat deep in thought before suddenly reaching his own A HA moment.

"Oh! Eww… Gross! I've changed enough of Neal's diapers… I'm so not doing that!"

"Then don't you dare mention that catheter to your stepfather," she warned. "He freaked out enough over the breathing tube in his throat…"

"I'm not saying a word," Henry chuckled. "I don't want to be around for that…"

Emma shook her head, giving her son a weary smile as she heard a light rap from outside the doorway. She doubted that the nurse would knock when returning with Killian's medicine so what else could it be at this hour? She stood and took one wary step toward the door as it slowly swung open to reveal Deputy McCallen's timid face.

"Am I interrupting something?" the deputy asked shyly, looking quizzically at Emma's still slightly flushed face and the mischievous grin on Henry's lips.

"No, not at all," she replied with a snicker. "Come on in. We've just had a minor setback, but it's nothing we can't handle…" she explained as McCallen stepped through the doorway.

"You're in pretty good spirits for a setback," the deputy said, unaware of the conversation he'd narrowly missed walking in on. "I'm just reporting for my shift this evening and I was hoping that your husband might be up to looking at some photos of different boats so we can get a better description of the one his abductors used."

"The nurse gave him a pretty good pain killer a few hours ago and he's been out cold since. We were waiting for her to come back with something to help fight this fever when you arrived. I've got a feeling he won't be awake for a while."

"Well, I'll be here all night, Sheriff. I'll be right outside so just let me know when he's awake."

"You do realize that this protection duty still isn't necessary," she said with a hint of annoyance.

"Then you can call it professional courtesy, but either way, you'll have the company of the Cumberland County Sheriff's Department for a while." The deputy clearly wasn't backing down from his orders but Emma was far too fatigued to care. Tomorrow was another day though…

#cs ff #cs fanfic #cs fan fiction #captain swan ff #captain swan fanfiction #the right place

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snowdice · 4 years ago

Text

Finding the Time to Study Fic 2 [Day 30]

My Masterpost Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

I also have a playlist on youtube (because Spotify didn’t have one of the songs I wanted). It’s short, and not really for serious listening, but I had fun with it.

Feeling very unmotivated, so let’s see if this can get me out of my funk or if it’ll stop after two rounds.

Chapter 9

Khalid immediately called everyone back to base.

“What happened?” asked Fred when he and Lena arrived. The tech people were already scrambling to get through to the TPI and get the time lock broken from the outside.

“Remus, Remy, and Khalid got played by Pat or whatever his name is. It certainly isn’t Nick. He was just setting up a joke,” Janus told him.

“Stop being smug,” Remy said. “It’s not a good look for you.”

“Pat is…?” Lena asked.

“It will be fine,” said Khalid, “because what he doesn’t know is that timepiece has a tracker on it. Wherever and whenever he went, we’ll have his coordinates.”

“What just happened?” Remy asked.

“He ticked us,” Janus said. “Again.”

“Probably with the time bomb,” Janus said.

“Probably with the time bomb,” she confirmed.

And everyone knew the only thing worse than a time bomb was a time bomb you didn’t know the location of.

The, they initiated a time travel lockdown for all nonessentials, not willing to let random history students get caught up in an explosion if Pat decided to set the thing off somewhere.

“You are the only tolerable one,” Janus told the cat who upon being let loose in the office by Remus, immediately jumped on Janus’s lap.

“I have literally done nothing to you,” Lena said, but then added. “Yet.”

“You exist. In my space.”

“Fuck your hot chocolate, Fred,” Janus growled, having been one of the three who had chipped in to buy it for him on his last birthday.

“Don’t go after Fred, jackass,” Lena spat.

“He’s just testy because his boyfriend escaped,” Remus contributed.

Janus’s lips turned down into a frown and he cupped Diesel Fuel’s face. “We agree we’re eating him first, right?” he asked her.

She purred her agreement.

“I’d have it no other way,” Remus replied.

“There is plenty of food,” Fred said, sounding stressed. “In fact, I was thinking we should all chip in on ordering take-out soon. “What does everyone like on pizza?”

“This is not a slumber party, Fred,” Janus pointed out.

“Shut it,” Lena snapped and turned to Fred. “I’m fine with almost everything, except…”

“Bananas and tuna salad!” Remus interrupted.

“…whatever Remus is about to say.”

Janus rolled his eyes as that started a debate about whether or not fruit and/or fish belonged on pizza. He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes, which was when there was a knock on the door.

Janus still dried to dodge anyway. “Uh,” he said. “We were actually about to order pizza.”

“Go ahead,” said Fred kindly. Janus wanted to strangle him. “We can order pizza with olives if you’re not here.”

“I…” said Janus. “Guess, I’ll be going with you.”

“Great!” Emile said. “Let’s go.”

“Oh,” Janus said. “Uh, now?”

“Now,” Emile said a bit of uncharacteristic steel to his tone.

Then, he followed Emile out of the office door. “What would you like to eat?” asked Emile.

“Uh,” Janus said. “I don’t know. You asked me to eat, don’t you have any ideas?”

“I don’t actually,” Emile replied. Right.

“…Noddle Bar?” Janus threw out the nearest restaurant he knew.

“I don’t know,” Janus said, only then pulling up the menu himself, but still not quite looking at it.

“What about the fortune noodles,” Emile suggested.

Janus shook his head. “I don’t like those,” he said.

“Well,” Emile said lightly, eyes on his menu. “That makes me even more worried for your mental health than I already was because of the almost three years of you avoiding talking to me.”

“No small talk, huh?” Janus asked.

“No,” said Janus quietly into the table.

Janus closed his eyes. “It’s not you.”

“Then you need help,” Emile concluded.

Janus shook his head.

“Yes,” Emile snapped. “Whatever this is has gone on far too long.”

“So, you’re just planning to go on being miserable then?” Emile asked, and Janus wasn’t sure if it was worse or better that he didn’t sound angry anymore.

Janus slapped his hand down on the “To Go” button and his dinner was insta-wrapped by the table. “Yes,” he said.

“What exactly do you think you’re paying penance for, Janus?” Emile asked.

“You wouldn’t understand,” Janus said, paying for both of their meals with his fingerprint.

“That’s a cop out and you know it,” Emile said. “All you’d have to do is talk to me. Or even just talk to someone else. Please.”

“Just…” Janus said, grabbing his bag of food to avoid looking at him. “Just, leave me be.” He walked out of the noodle shop without another word.

Chapter 10

Janus flipped her off.

“Protein infused Poptarts and caffeinated orange juice for breakfast?” she asked. “Just eat an energy bar and have a cup of coffee like a normal person.”

He took another pointed bite of his Poptart.

“You’re a horrible roommate. This is why they gave us different partners.”

“Yeah, well you snore, asshole,” Janus said after finishing off his meal.

“I’d tell you to go eat shit, but you already did that once this morning.”

A pillow flew across the room and somehow managed to hit the both of them. “S’op fighting,” Fred mumbled. “It’s sleep time.”

“It’s morning Fred,” Lena said.

“No,” Fred mumbled.

Janus ignored them, turning back to his integration port to continue to keep plugging in phrases of interest, but he kept getting nothing.

“What are you doing?” Lena asked after a few moments of him huffing at his screen reader.

“Trying to do anything that may change our current living arrangements.”

She puffed out an amused breath. “Can I help?”

“Can you see any connection between these words and phrases?” he asked, pulling away his screen reader and tapping at the words he’d typed out.

“Paranoid, tonight, I live to party, comeback, love Bug, BB good, Mandy, Macy Misa, I believe, cool, that’s just the way we roll, burnin’ up,” she said. “What are these?”

“They’re things Pat said when we interrogated that struck me funny,” Janus explained. “I feel like he was saying something more than what he said.”

“Hmm,” she said. “PTI for the first three?”

“Maybe,” Janus agreed, “but what about the rest of it? I feel like I’m missing something.”

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“Millennia,” Janus contemplated. “A different turn of the millennia. Oh no.”

“What?” Lena asked.

Janus sighed, and rubbed his temple. “I know someone who studied the 1700-2200s.”

“Isn’t that good?”

“No,” Janus groaned, “because now I have to go talk to him.” He stood with a sigh and then paused. “How do I even get to Silver Mountains University without my timepiece?”

The receptionist was the same man as before. “I’m here to speak to Professor Eran,” Janus said.

The receptionist nodded. “He mentioned you asked to meet him but didn’t know when you’d arrive. He’ll be done teaching his class in about 5 minutes. You can wait over there.”

“What’s in the bag?” Janus asked.

“Early 21st century cell phones,” Virgil said, dropping it on his desk. “I let my students mess around with them for their lab.”

“I see,” Janus said.

“What did you need?” Virgil asked. “You said it was official business.”

“You’ve heard about the lockdown, I presume,” Janus said.

“Yeah, it really screws up my research schedule for the summer,” Virgil said.

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“Shoot,” Virgil requested, seeming intrigued by the prospect.

“Okay,” Janus said. “First, the alias he was using was Nick Jonas.” A weird expression crossed Virgil’s face immediately and Janus paused.

“You said the year 3000?” Virgil asked.

“Er. Yes.”

“Nick Jonas. Year 3000,” Virgil repeated with a snort. “Were Joe and Kevin a part of this too?”

Janus blinked. “Yes, how did you know that?”

“What?” Janus asked. “What’s wrong?”

“Just…” Virgil said, sobbing through his laughter. “Just tell me the things he said.”

“Er, mostly he just had weird inflections on words and phrases. There was ‘paranoid, tonight, I live to party, comeback…’”

“Wait, stop,” Virgil said. “Let me guess a few. That’s Just the Way We Roll, Burnin’ Up, Sucker.”

“The first two were, but not the last one.”

Virgil laughed. “Maybe the last one was just implied.”

Janus frowned down. “What are you talking about? What does this all mean?”

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“That rat bastard,” Janus said.

“Scroll to the bottom,” Virgil said. Janus did and found a song titled ‘Year 3000.’

“You’re kidding me.”

“Click on it,” Virgil requested.

“I have no idea who this guy is,” Virgil said, “but he’s a comedic genius.”

Chapter 11

Khalid caught him on his way back into the TPI building. “I heard you went to Silver Mountains to follow up on a lead,” she said.

“Yeah, but it was garbage,” he seethed. “All I learned was ‘Pat’ knows early 2000s popular culture and likes to fuck with us.”

She hummed. “I’d still like a report about whatever you found. Who knows what we might end up getting from seemingly inconsequential data.”

“Sure,” he said.

“Anyway,” she continued. “I have a mission for you.”

“We’re on lockdown,” Janus pointed out with a frown.

“For nonessentials,” she said. “This is essential.”

“What happened?” Janus asked.

“Is this related to the time bomb?” Janus asked.

“I’m not sure,” she said. “At the very least, it’s not it being set off as it was in 2999, but if it’s been altered for some other purpose…”

“I’ll go,” Janus said.

“I’ll send over the mission directive to everyone who needs it. You’ll go in around 3 hours.”

He nodded. “I’ll be ready,” he agreed.

It was a little bit warm, but not stifling even in the mid-afternoon and he could faintly smell the sea on the breeze.

For now, he decided to get slightly away from people by heading towards the river. He found a park that had benches along water.

As he walked towards the river, he noticed a man on the bench, angled slightly away from Janus and looking out at the water. He immediately recognized the man. “You!” he exclaimed.

Pat’s head shot around to look at him, and he gave a slight head tilt. Then, he smiled, amused. “You are not the person I’m here for,” he said.

“Well, I am now,” Janus snapped. “Where’s the time bomb?”

“Time bomb?” Pat asked, eyebrows drawing together, but amusement on his lips. “Oh sweetie, the time bomb happened a long time ago for me.”

“What?” Janus asked.

“What are you talking about?”

Janus curled his fingers around it. “I don’t get it.”

Something on Pat’s wrist beeped and he looked at it curiously before he stood from the bench, “and I don’t have time to explain it.”

Janus jerked forward to grab his wrist. “Don’t you dare.”

“Oh my god, we need to figure out the height thing,” a familiar voice groaned, just as Janus managed to pull himself away. Pat blinked up at him and his eyes narrowed. “You,” he hissed.

“…What?”

He was suddenly very glad he’d been forced to let the other Pat (the older Pat?) go, else they’d have a whole thing on their hands.

“What are you doing here?” was Janus’s retort as he stood up and dusted himself off.

“It’s none of your business,” Pat told him.

“What are you?” Pat asked, “the time police.”

“Yes.”

Pat dared to roll his eyes, but then he tilted his head slightly. “Time distortions?” he asked.

“Yes, that’s why I’m here.”

He still had a confused frown on his face. Did… did he not know what a time distortion was?

Just then there was a sudden flash of lightening through the sky despite the absolutely lack of clouds. He and Pat both looked up.

“Is that the time distortion?” Pat asked.

“It’s probably the beginning of it,” Janus said.

“That doesn’t look good,” Pat said as he squinted at the sky.

Janus turned to walk away from him.

“Wait!” Pat exclaimed, and Janus turned back to him to see that his eyes were wide. Janus raised an eyebrow. “So, this time distortion thing is dangerous, right?”

“Depending on the severity, it could cause time to fracture around this place and time, basically erasing it from existence and killing everyone in it.”

“Well, in that case, I should go with you. To help.”

Janus looked him up and down. “You… have no idea what’s happening, do you? You’re an amateur.”

“I’m not,” he claimed. “I just. Pooling resources. You know?”

Janus sighed. “Well, you going around mucking about this time period without knowing what you’re doing could just exasperate the situation, so fine, you can tag along.”

“I know what I’m doing,” he grumbled even as he rushed to Janus’s side at the permission.

“Sure,” Janus said with an eyeroll. He guessed he was a babysitter now. “I believe you.”

Chapter 12

“What’s your name, by the way?” he asked.

Janus shot him a glare. “Elvis Presley,” he said.

Pat frowned, clearly knowing who that was. “There’s no reason to be mean.”

“You did it to me first.”

“…Introduced myself as a famous musician?” he asked. Janus didn’t respond, and after a moment, Pat laughed lightly. “You really don’t understand time travel, do you?”

“Oh, yeah,” Janus said. “Name the three types of time distortions.”

Janus scoffed. “I did not just cause a time loop.”

“Maybe not a big one,” Pat agreed, “but you did.”

“That’s not… that doesn’t count.”

“But you’re still going to do it.”

“And I’m supposed to forgive you?”

“Like I said,” Pat said. “I haven’t done anything yet.”

“You also haven’t done anything to endear yourself to me either,” Janus grumbled.

“Hmm,” Pat said. “Fine.” He pulled something out of his pocket. “You’re obviously not having much luck finding whatever you’re looking for. Tell me what it is and I’ll help.”

Janus squinted at what was in his hand. “Is that… an iPhone 5?”

“No!” he said. “It’s super-secret time travel tech disguised as an iPhone 5!”

“We’re in 2027,” Janus said. “Not a great disguise. Those things have been obsolete for a decade.”

“Well I’ll keep in mind to have my tech disguised as phones from the right year next time,” Pat said, sticking out his tongue. “Now what are we looking for?”

“If my timepiece can’t find it, I’m certain yours can’t.”

Pat rolled his eyes and tapped on the device’s screen a couple of times. “I’m going to guess it’s that,” he said proudly.

Janus leaned over to look at the screen. “Are you using google maps?” he sputtered.

When they got to the Musée Fabre museum, Janus stopped. “What?” Pat asked. He was shivering slightly in the cold and holding his arms around himself.

“My timepiece stopped working completely,” he said.

“I’m assuming that’s weird?” Pat said.

“It is,” Janus confirmed, turning to squint at him suspiciously. “How do I know you’re not the one doing it?”

“If I was doing it, wouldn’t I have just knocked it out from the get go?” Pat questioned.

Janus pursed his lips. “I don’t know,” he said. “Would you have? Maybe it’s a trick.”

Pat’s eyes narrowed a bit on him. “Think what you want, but I’m freezing. Come in with me if you want.”

“Two adult passes for the museum and the Hotel Sabatier d’Espevran, please,” he said, placing down 14 euro.

“Ah,” she said, still looking at Pat oddly. “Yes sir.” She gave them the passes and Janus quickly shuffled Pat away.

“What is wrong with your French?” he hissed once they were out of earshot.

“What?” he asked, bewildered.

“You sound like you’re reading Le Comte de Monte-Cristo. No one talks like that anymore.”

“I’m a little rusty,” Pat defended himself.

“Two centuries?” Janus asked. Pat stuck his tongue out like a child once again. “Is that your only way to respond to legitimate criticism?”

“What does it even matter anyway? No one ever expects time travel, at least not for something so silly.”

“Are there a lot of time travelers around?” Pat asked, sounding intrigued.

“There are plenty, both legal and not.”

“Huh,” he said, “but what are the chances we’ll run into another one?”

“Considering the time distortion? There could be many. Opportunists wanting to capitalize off the chaos, people trying to stop it, like me, and not to mention the person who caused it.”

“Wait, someone made it happen?” Pat asked.

“These things don’t just happen naturally.”

“Huh. So, something like this has to be caused by a person?”

“Yes,” Janus said. “…Why?”

Pat smiled. “No reason. I think we should head upstairs. Whatever I’m picking up says it’s around here, but I don’t see anything. Maybe it’s a floor or two above us.”

“Which is why it’s ridiculous to use Google Maps.”

“Would you rather use yours?” he asked sweetly.

“I’m still not convinced it’s not your doing,” Janus growled. “Why does your tech still work when mine doesn’t?”

“Probably the same reason the ring did,” he muttered.

“What?”

“You may be the most aggravating being in the universe.”

“What the hell do you mean a software difference?”

Chapter 13

Janus pushed him so he was leaning slightly forward and produced a pack of time appropriate tissues from his pocket. He pulled one out of the package and offered it to him.

“We should probably get off of the stairs,” he suggested.

Pat took the tissue with the hand not already holding one to his nose. “Thanks,” he said.

Janus nodded and got to his feet. The lights flickered once again but didn’t stay off for now. He didn’t know how long that would last.

He couldn’t see anything that might hold bandages in this room, but there was a second door. “I’ll be right back,” he told Pat, exiting through it.

The lights flickered once more as the door closed behind him and he cursed. When they came back up Janus’s eyes immediately fell on a man. They both froze.

“Remus!” Janus hissed the second their eyes met. “What are you doing here?”

Remus blinked at him for a moment. “Hi. Janus,” he said. “I… come to France for… tea sometimes?”

“There isn’t any tea back here.”

“So, there isn’t…” he said. There was a moment of silence. “Uh, so I actually cannot talk to you right now.”

“Oh, you have no idea,” Remus mumbled.

“Holy shit, you’re looping?!”

“It’s… not looping if I wasn’t here the first time.”

“Remus, we spend more than 12 hours a day together most of the time. The only thing worse than this is if I looped back to this time myself.”

“…Yeah. Anyway, I need to leave now.”

“Please do.”

He turned to go, but then stopped. “Oh, and,” he reached into his pocket and tossed something at Janus. Janus caught it.

It was Band-Aids.

“Oh, shit,” Janus spat at the clear use of foreknowledge. “I hate this. I hate you. I’m going to kill you the next time you see me.”

“Sure, Jan.”

“Go.”

He did, slipping into the next room while Janus took a deep breath and then turned back to the door behind him. He schooled his face before Pat looked up. “I found some Band-Aids.”

Pat nodded and Janus came over to squat next to him.

Janus took the box back gently and guided the wad of bloody Kleenexes back to his nose.

“Which would you like?” Janus asked.

“Oh, they are all so cute,” Pat cooed. “Um, how about that one!” he pointed. “Or that one! Or that one!”

“Pat you only have one cut.”

“But they’re all so cute!” Pat said, tongue tucking into his cheek. He contemplated the box again. “Let’s do the black one,” he finally settled on.

Instead, he just carefully unstuck the backing from the Band-Aid and motioned for Pat to remove the tissue from his forehead. He smiled at Janus as he drew back.

Janus cleared his throat. “How’s the nose.”

“It’s slowing down,” Pat replied. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” Janus replied. They met eyes for a second before Pat looked away back at the box of Band-Aids.

“Oh,” Pat said. “There’s a grey one. I didn’t notice.” He pointed to it. “I should have used that one.”

“Do you like grey cats?” Janus asked.

“I like all kitties,” he said, “but one of my roommates loves grey cats. He had one when he was a kid and thinks of them as good omens. Seeing one always brightens up his day.”

“A friend of mine has a grey cat,” Janus said. “She’s much more tolerable than him.”

Pat laughed a bit. “Don’t be mean,” he said.

“But I don’t…”

Janus just shrugged and stuck it on his cheek where there was no wound. Pat giggled and touched it with a finger. Janus stood back up.

“Can I have another tissue?” Pat asked.

“Sure.” Janus handed a tissue over to him and he crumpled up the bloody ones in his hand.

“I think I’m good to keep going,” Pat said, putting the new tissue under his nose. “The nose will stop soon.”

“I’m guessing this is it,” Pat said.

Janus nodded and looked over his shoulder at the screen. They both cautiously walked towards where the little dot was on the phone.

“They are,” Janus said. “This one is artificial.”

“What does that mean?”

“It’s a simulation,” Janus said. “It causes similar symptoms to a time distortion, but it’s not actually fracturing time at all.”

“That’s good, isn’t it?” Pat asked.

“I don’t know,” Janus said. He took the piece of tech of the wall and carefully stored it in his pocket, “but someone’s trying to get our attention.”

Chapter 14

They wandered around the downtown for a bit. The people seemed to jump back from the strange weather and earthquake that afternoon rather quickly, and there were plenty still about to blend into.

“Ooo!” Pat said. “We should get crepes.”

“Why?”

“You can’t go to France and not eat crepes.”

“I assure you, you can,” Janus said dryly.

Pat shot a pout at him and the next thing he knew he was in a small crepe shop.

“What should I get!?” Pat asked. “They all look so good! I could do strawberry preserves or maple syrup or just sugar!”

“Or you could get one that is actually food,” Janus suggested mildly. “I don’t think you need any more sugar judging by how you are acting.”

Pat rolled his eyes. “You sound like Lo.”

Janus made a note of the name ‘Lo’ even though it surely was a nickname.

“But, since you’re insisting, I’ll get something healthy. I’ll have the strawberry one. That’s a fruit!”

“It comes with a cream cheese filling,” Janus pointed out.

“And it’s fruit!”

“You don’t have to pay for me,” Pat protested when he saw that.

Janus glanced back at him. “I was afraid you’d try to pay in francs,” he said dryly.

They waited for their crepes to be finished and then went to eat them outside near a water fountain.

“I can pay you back for the crepe,” Pat said after they sat down. “I do actually have euros.”

Janus waved him off. “It wasn’t that expensive.”

Pat hummed. “Well, in that case. I insist on paying for a wish for you.” Janus raised an eyebrow. “In the fountain!” Pat clarified.

Pat set aside his crepe to dig in his pocket for a couple of coins. “Here!” he said handing one over.

Janus glanced over at the fountain. “No.”

“Oh, come on,” Pat beseeched. “You have to want something. I’ll even throw it in for you, but you have to make a wish first!”

“No.”

“Please!”

Janus sighed. “Fine.” He popped the rest of his crepe in his mouth. “I wish for a crepe,” he said after swallowing.

“You just had a crepe, silly.”

“But I liked it, so I want another one.”

“We can go back and get you another crepe.”

“Ah, but I’m not hungry anymore.”

Pat crossed his arms. “You’re just being difficult on purpose.”

“Not me,” Janus said putting hand over his heart. “I would never do something like that.”

Pat’s phone.

Janus nodded and kept up the light conversation until Pat was finished.

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“Well,” he said then, getting to his feet. “It seems that nothing else is going to happen regarding the time distortion. I should be getting back.”

Pat hummed. “I should too. It’s movie night!”

“I probably should arrest you,” Janus noted.

“In the middle of all of these people?” Pat asked mildly.

“Touché,” Janus said.

Pat gasped and pointed at him. “Pun!” he said. Janus blinked at him. “Because we’re in France! That’s French!”

“…Goodbye Pat,” Janus said, turning to walk away from him.

“Goodbye… wait I still don’t know your name!”

Janus stopped to look back at him for a moment. “Like I said,” he replied. “Elvis.”

“Fine,” Pat said. “Au revoir, mon chéri.”

“You never stop, do you?” Janus asked.

Pat giggled. “Considering I don’t know what you mean, I imagine I’m just getting started.”

Janus actually left then, walking off towards the alley he’d first arrived in. In some ways, the mission had been a bust, but in others it had gone very well.

He felt for the weight of the phone in his pocket before pulling up the display screen on his timepiece to go back to the TPI.

It had gone very well indeed.

Chapter 15

He got woken up by Lena coming into the office at 7am, and noticed he already had an email response asking when Janus wanted to come in.

“Now?” he sent back.

“…Do you sleep?” was the immediate response. “And yes.”

He didn’t stand to escort Janus this time, so Janus went ahead and went down the hall to Virgil’s office himself.

He knocked on the door and while he was waiting for Virgil to open it, the infernal contraption once again started to play the same stupid song.

“I didn’t even touch you!” he spat, getting it out and tapping on the screen.

“Jonas Brothers dude again?” Virgil asked causally upon opening the door.

Janus shoved it at him. “Make it stop.”

Virgil took it and fiddled with it for a few moments before it stopped with the song. “Oh my gosh,” he said scrolling through something on the screen.

“What.”

“Can you. Just. Make it not happen. Anymore?”

Virgil smirked at him. “Maybe.” He turned around to go back into his office.

“Virgil,” Janus growled following him in.

Virgil just laughed. “What do you want to know about it?” he asked. “Just a fair warning… the song means he… likely was aware someone would steal it.”

“Of course, he was,” Janus groaned.

“But I’m sure we can still get something out of it.” Virgil started tapping at the screen again. “Okay, let’s see. It’s an iPhone 5, and someone jailbroke it.”

“What does that mean?”

“Tampered with it so they could install non-company approved software,” Virgil explained.

“Well I figured that since he was using Google Maps to track time distortions,” Janus grumbled.

Janus nodded and sat back to wait. Virgil grabbed the phone and started to play around with it a bit even as it uploaded all of its information to his computer.

“Weird,” Virgil said after a moment.

“What?” Janus asked, sitting up straighter.

“There are exactly two contacts. Fewer than I’d anticipate for a regular phone from the 2010s. More than I would expect from one clearly not being used as a phone.

“It’s worth a shot,” Janus replied.

“He mentioned a Lo,” Janus said. “So, try him first.”

Virgil nodded. “I’ll put it on speaker.” He pressed some buttons before setting the phone on the desk between them.

The phone rang three times before with a bit of a crackle, it was answered. “Salutations,” a voice said, voice sounding a bit scratchy as though he had only just gotten up.

Virgil motioned with his head for Janus to speak. “Are you ‘Lo’?” he asked.

The man hummed. “To some people.”

Janus… didn’t quite know what to say to that, or even what questions he should ask.

“I’m assuming you’re the man that stole my associate’s phone.”

“Your associate?” Janus fished.

The screen on Virgil’s lit up bright blue all of a sudden. “…shit,” said Virgil.

“Well,” Lo said, “it seems you were clever enough not to plug it into the TPI system, which is disappointing, but…”

There was more clicking on the other end. “Hmm, interesting music tastes for the 4000s,” he said.

“I’m an anthropologist,” Virgil spoke up.

Virgil went a bit scarlet around the ears. “Dude, did you really have to out me like that?” he hissed at the phone.

“Okay,” Virgil said. “Good point, but counterpoint, what if you’re wrong and everyone hates me forever?”

“Yeah but… okay, I really don’t have an argument for that one, except maybe I’m a piece of shit and everyone is looking for a reason to hate me.”

“Oh, but is that because people like me or because I’m an anxious mess and make sure events go off without a hitch?”

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“A lot of assumptions,” Virgil commented, but he was smiling slightly.

“Assumptions based on data,” Lo argued back lightly.

“You really came in here, hacked into my computer and smacked my anxiety in the face, huh?”

“Glad to have helped.”

“Y-”

“Are the two of you finished?” Janus interrupted, finally getting sick of the two of them.

“Not nearly,” Lo said. “I have gained access to an entire network of a very large university and will be sorting through the data for a long time.”

“Ugh, right,” Virgil groaned, “and you got access through my integrator.”

“I doubt they’ll be able to trace it back to you if you don’t tell them.”

“Nice try,” Virgil said dryly, “but not likely. I’m telling them about you immediately so they can work to kick you out.”

“Bastard,” Janus shot back.

“And goodbye Professor Eran. It was a pleasure.” He hung up.

Virgil sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “This is going to be fun to explain to both of our bosses.��