#also before anyone tells me her name is just Iris period

[probablygayattorneys]

I’m curious about what the fan opinion is so let’s do a poll!

[mcustorm]

In Defense of a Black Cyclops

In case my username didn’t make it clear, the single most anticipated visual project for me is the MCU’s interpretation of the X-Men, which hasn’t even been announced yet [officially]. And ladies and gents, I have found your Cyclops:

Good ol’ Alfred Enoch, who we all know from Harry Potter and How to Get Away With Murder. If you’re not familiar with HTGAWM, know that his character goes from the de facto leader of the ragtag (murderers) and most cherished protege of Viola Davis’ Professor X to taking more of a grimdark turn after his girlfriend’s death. Sound at least somewhat familiar?

Enoch also embodies the physicality of the character well, seeing as to how he’s “slim”, 6′4(!!), black, and notoriously lanky. Wait, one of these isn’t like the others.

In general I hate fancasting. Everyone generally picks from the same pool of about 30 actors (Peeps, neither Taron nor Daniel is a good Wolverine choice. Argue with your mother!), and most all of it is based on physicality, except when it absolutely should be (like say, choosing a ~5′10 dark-skinned black woman for Storm).

And I think there’s some malarkey afoot. I think there needs to be some serious consideration on part of fancasters and actual casting agents alike to rethink race when it comes to the [white] X-Men, especially since they’re the X-Men of all teams. So I’ll make the case for a black Cyclops: 

1. There is no quota on Black X-Men: There’s a bug in your ear that’s been whispering lies to you for years, it says something to the effect of “We need a black person on the team for diversity. How bout Storm?” And you’ve gotten complacent. Storm does not have to be the only black person on your X-Men roster.

2. The X-Men represent diversity: Iceman is gay, Cyclops and Prof. X are disabled (sorta), there are plenty of women, oh and everybody except Storm is white. Of the A-List X-Men, there is only *one* POC character. I’d argue that an MCU X-Men needs to champion diversity like never before.

3. The X-Men represent minority struggle while being mostly white: There’s a cognitive dissonance in the metaphor that has always been there, and for the most part, nobody cares. To appeal to the white readers of the 60′s, the X-Men were all initially white. That way, the message of the mutants could be related to the audience with a familiar face. We don’t need to approach the problem that way in 202?

4. Just because that’s the way it’s always been, doesn’t mean that’s the way it should be: The first line of defense. Sorry, that will never be a good justification for literally any idea. It’s time for some more critical thinking.

5. We don’t all want to be Bishop: So say you’re white and you have a kid who for his birthday having a costume party. You’ve bought some X-Men costumes and you want each kid to pick one. 9 white kids and one black kid show up to your house. As the kids deliberate who gets what costume, be it Cyke or Wolvie or whatever, you yell at everybody to “STOP!”, point to the one black kid and tell him “You’re gonna be Bishop. That’s it, end of story!” 

We don’t all want to be Bishop. The black child could have the best Cyclops interpretation within him, but you’ll never know if you don’t let him try. And that’s no different from the Black actors of Hollywood. There’s no reason why all of the black talent should *have* to compete for the role of Bishop or Storm, which I’ve discussed, while Joe Schmo can walk up and audition for literally anybody he wants.          

Jharrel Jerome is 23 and has an Emmy to his name. He needs to be in the MCU in some capacity, period. Stephan James is another. How bout Damson Idris. Ashton Sanders. But no, no, let’s fancast Dacre Montgomery or Ansel or Joe Keery again as [Human Torch, Wolverine, Iceman, Angel, I’ve literally seen it all.]

6. Nobody wants to see the B-team if it comes down to it. The next line of defense from your racebending naysayers after “That’s the way it’s always been!” is “Well, what about Psylocke, Bishop, Forge and Jubilee?” who are otherwise known as B-tier X-Men. The problem is, we’ve got limited time and limited spots.

So since the X-Men is all about wonky metaphors that make half sense, let me give you another: Let’s say somebody approaches you and says “Hey buddy, I got two free concert tickets for ya! You can either see Michael Jackson Sings the Blues, or you can go see Justin Timberlake. Free of charge!”

Now, are you used to MJ singing the blues? No! Do you have a problem with going to see Justin Timberlake? No, he’s fine on a Wednesday! He had that one little diddy we liked that one time. We’d love to see him eventually! But are you gonna say, “fuck that, I’m going to see MJ Sings the Blues” regardless? Hell yes, because that’s still Michael Jackson. He’s gonna give the same amazing performance he always does, it’s just gonna be the blues. And speaking of blues...

7. Black is not Blue, Brown is not Blue: Raise your hand if you’ve ever heard this one: “I don’t care if you’re black, white, purple, or green, I’m going to treat you all the same!” I will not say all have this intention, but some fancasters have noticed that the racial diversity is kinda low within the A-List X-Men, so they oh-so-generously give the following roles to a black or brown person: Iceman, Nightcrawler, Beast. 

Notice the pattern? It’s a microaggression, and it’s bullshit. What these fancasters are implicitly telling you is that, yes the actors will be black or brown, but when the action starts we can ignore that. They’ll be blue by then. In other words, you in fact do care if they’re purple or green. Nobody will cry foul if Dev Patel gets to play Nightcrawler (because that’s a common one I see), but should Anna Diop be Starfire or Michael B. Jordan be Human Torch, I bet there’d be backlash. Oh wait. If that’s you, please stop acting like you actually value diversity. You don’t want to see black or brown skin, period. Unless of course, it’s Storm (refer to point #1).

But wait, there’s more! When brown characters get whitewashed in these movies, it’s crickets! So eventually it’s revealed implicitly that proclaimers of point #4 only care about it one way.

8. Professor X should not be black if you’re not willing to change anyone else: The next line of defense is that some people say the professor should be black, if anybody HAS to be racebent. Something something MLK Jr., Civil Rights or some shit. Number one, I’m not reducing Professor X to being a magical negro for 9 white people (and Storm!) who for all intents and purposes get to have all the action. Number 2, the Professor X/MLK/Magneto/Malcolm X comparison is an oversimplifying disservice to ALL FOUR of those people. I hate that line whenever I see it, please watch a documentary my friends. 

9. The Candidates for Racebending: For me, the A-List X-Men are Cyclops, Jean Grey, Iceman, Angel, Beast, Wolverine, Storm, Gambit, Rogue, Colossus, Nightcrawler, and Kitty Pryde. Now, who should be exempt from the racebending? Storm, she’s our designated minority. Gambit, he’s Cajun and they’re white (generally speaking, that’s a fun bit of research). Wolverine, Colossus, and Nightcrawler, because their nationality/ethnicity was the whole point of the Giant-Size premise in the first place. Angel, because his character embodies a privileged white male. Beast and Iceman, I don’t care one way or another (Point #7).

That leaves Cyclops, Rogue, Jean Grey, and Kitty Pryde. Now Jean Grey is a redhead, and we all know that every time a redhead is racebent people sharpen their pitchforks (Mary Jane, Wally West, Iris West), so I will cede the ground on Jean if only so that my ginger friends can get their rep. Kitty Pryde is Jewish, but Jews of color exist. Rogue is from the South. And Cyclops is, well, just Cyclops. That makes those three characters good options for more diversity. But allow me to make the case for Cyclops, specifically.

10. It’s not just diversity for diversity’s sake: If you had to pick who the main character of the X-Men is supposed to be, most would say Cyclops. And so in a series that highlights racial discrimination in society, it makes sense that our main character be black. While changing Cyclops’ skin color should not change who he is as a character, it *should* recontextualize it. Now, as an eventual increasingly radical leader of the X-Men, Cyclops would evoke real life figures such as Colin Kaepernick or, shall I say, Martin Luther King, Jr.

Not that most X-Men fans and writers truly think about what it means to be black anyways. Storm’s minority status is almost always put through the lens of her being a mutant and not her being a black woman. In other words, you can’t argue that making a character black will fundamentally change his or her character when you haven’t even analyzed the racial context of the black character(s) you already have. Another concept that the MCU X-Men should tackle: intersectionality.

11. Representation matters: I have to say it: Chadwick Boseman’s Black Panther hit different. And now he is tragically gone. At the end of the day, the MCU moving forward is down its most prominent black male superhero. Which has implications beyond just the movies themselves.

The women are in good hands. Shuri, Okoye, and Nakia are badasses in Wakanda, Valkyrie is ruling Asgard, Storm is almost assuredly on the way, RiRi Williams has already been cast, and Monica Rambeau is here and she’s not even at her most glorious yet. That doesn’t even include variable Δ, or the number of characters who can and will be racebent. And I’ll note again that to me, Gamora doesn’t count, because she’s green (#7 really pisses me off because it’s so blatant. I hate it). Of course from a behind the camera perspective we love black women getting work.

The men are a completely different story. Imma just go out and say it, I can’t stand Falcon and War Machine [in the MCU] because they’re not characters, they’re just two of a slew of MCU minority sidekicks who have essentially been at the beck and call of Captain America and Iron Man, respectively. You cannot tell Falcon’s story without mentioning Cap. The reverse is not true. There’s a whole essay that could be and have been written on “Minorities in the MCU, pre-Black Panther”. Remember, there’s a reason BP made so much noise in the first place.

So excluding those two we have, let’s see, M’Baku, Blade, and Fury who aren’t exactly the most superheroic superheroes, Eli Bradley is proooobably coming, I doubt Miles Morales is coming (because he’s just Peter Parker in the MCU), Luke Cage(?) Bishop(??), Sunspot(???), Blue Marvel(????). Not only are they not A-List, I would not put money on any of them being in the MCU any time soon.

Cyclops is thee Captain America of the X-Men. He’s the frontman. He’s the poster boy. He’s the “boy scout”, which in other words means he’s the hero, if there has to be one. It would mean a lot right now, and specifically *right now*, if he were to be black. The MCU needs it. It NEEDS it.

12. The X-Men is the Summers Story: I’ll even make the case that if just one character needs to racebent, then it should be Cyclops, because that of course implies that other related characters need to be black because half of the X-Men universe is in fact a part of the Summers family. 

So now Cable is black. Corsair is black. Havok is black. And one of the most central stories in the X-Men mythos, the Summers family drama, is now a black family drama set in space or the future or where the fuck ever. The concept is boundary pushing. When white families have drama in the media, it gets to be Game of Thrones or Star Wars, while when black families have drama in the media, it has to be black people arguing in a kitchen or living room about their various earthly traumas (I’m @’ing you, Mr. Perry). I mean, that’s all fine and good often times, but I want my black family drama in space, dammit.

And again, this is the X-Men, the series that’s all about *minorities* and their struggle, so again, why not?

Oh, and I’ll even throw out a Havok fancast for you: How bout Jharrel Jerome?

[iffeelscouldkill]

TSCOSI Week Day 1: Violet / Nature

A/N: I THOUGHT I WAS GOING TO BE A WHOLE DAY LATE FOR THIS AND THEN IT TURNED OUT THAT THE WEEK STARTS ON THE 25TH! Made it with 35 minutes to spare in my timezone dfsgghshshjs

(Watch me now be late for every single other day because I spent all my time on this one fic and have nothing else written for the other days xD)

Anyway, this is Day 1, prompt: Violet/Nature! It’s set kind of ambiguously around season 2, i.e. they’re on the Iris II, but there’s no other specific references to events of season 2, so this is spoiler-free!

Enjoy!

Violet sneaked as quietly as she could through the corridors of the ship, doing her best to conceal the bundle under her arm. The seller at the market stall had been nice enough to wrap it up in extra paper for her to disguise its shape, though he’d cautioned that she should be sure to unwrap it as soon as she had the opportunity.

She just needed to avoid bumping into anyone on her way to her room who might ask what she-

“Did you get what you needed?”

“Gah!” Violet jumped and whirled around, then relaxed when she saw who it was. “Uh, sorry, Captain, I thought you were – yes, I did, thank you.”

Sana eyed the bundle under her arm with interest. “Am I allowed to know what you doubled back for?”

“It’s uh…” Violet hesitated. It wasn’t Sana she was trying to keep it a secret from – if anything, Sana was the ideal person to confide in, but she felt suddenly embarrassed, wondering if she’d misjudged her spur-of-the-moment decision. “It’s something for Thursday.”

“Oh!” Sana’s face lit up. “Violet, that’s great. I’ve bought some ingredients to make one of her favourite dishes for dinner, but she’ll definitely love your… mystery gift. And if you need any help getting her in place for the surprise, just let me know!”

Violet smiled at her. “I will, Captain. Thank you. And thanks for… telling me, as well.”

“Of course!” Sana replied, beaming and dimpling at her.

Back in the safety of her room, Violet was finally able to unwrap her purchase. Her room had a kind of desk that folded down from the wall, and Violet unfolded it so that she could set the little terracotta pot with its seedling occupant on its surface. Then she studied it.

To say that Violet was not naturally green-fingered would be an understatement; if anything, she had a flair for killing off plant life, and her friends and roommates had learned very quickly not to trust her with anything green and growing. People had a tendency to gift her with pot plants (the joys of having a flower name), and Violet had taken to lying through her teeth when asked about how they were faring. She’d once had a cactus that had survived for a record six months before dying of what was either neglect or possibly a lack of sunlight.

So the fact that Violet needed to take care of this plant until she could give it to Arkady on her birthday in a week’s time wasn’t ideal. Sana had been the one who’d told her about Arkady’s approaching birthday, explaining that it had taken her years of friendship to even pry the date out of Arkady. “She says that she hates people making a fuss,” Sana explained. “But I think it’s because she could never… do much for it, growing up. I’ve tried to make up for that where I can.” She’d given Violet a significant look at that point.

Violet also didn’t think it was a coincidence that Sana had told her this right before they were due to land and resupply near a harbour town with an extensive marketplace.

Violet had only caught sight of the little stall with its rows of pots and tiny green shoots as they were leaving the market. She’d waved the others on ahead, and then covertly made her way over to the stall to inspect the range of plants and their prices.

It was a shame that they hadn't had any fully-grown varieties, but the stallholder had assured her that it would be much more rewarding to grow and take care of from a seedling. “You don't have the bother of germinating it, but you get to watch it grow," he said. “Just make sure you water it regularly, and keep it in a semi well-lit spot.”

Violet hadn’t liked to ask what that would look like on a spaceship. She hadn’t been prepared to rehearse too much of a cover story for buying a plant. But it was only for a week, right? She could take care of one little plant for a week, and then it would be in Arkady’s expert hands.

Right.

---

Three days later, Violet was definitely panicking a little bit.

She still hadn't figured out how to get a plant the equivalent of natural daylight on a spaceship, and the seedling is definitely starting to look a little droopier than before. She watered it the other day - even though it maybe didn't really need watering - so it's definitely not drying out. Of course, there could be any number of other things wrong with it, and Violet wouldn't know, because she had only ever owned plants involuntarily and did not know how to take care of them.

Okay, Vi, don't overthink this, she instructed herself. You're a biologist - you understand living things in principle. They need shelter, they need water and nutrition. And when you're in an environment where you can't get all your nutrients naturally - say, space - you have to find artificial substitutes. After all, it wasn't like humans could get sunlight in space either, but over decades of space travel, they'd found ways to adapt. Vitamin D supplements were a staple on long-haul ships, as were Vitamin D-rich foods, as there was a limit to how much your body would absorb from pure supplements. As a state-of-the-art vessel, the Iris (one, not two) had also been equipped with sun lamps that the crew could sit under for short periods to stimulate their skin's Vitamin D production. But Violet hadn't found anything of the sort on the Iris II. Except-

Violet sat up abruptly on her bed. The Iris II’s medbay was pretty state-of-the-art compared with the Rumor (okay, her medicine cabinet in undergrad had been state-of-the-art compared to the Rumor’s medbay, but still) and she still hadn’t finished exploring all its various fittings, but she distinctly remembered that the lamp over the examination table had an ultraviolet setting.

What was more, Violet didn’t think that she’d have any trouble keeping Arkady away from the medbay for the rest of the week (since she only ever went in there under duress).

Delighted with her revelation, Violet opened the door to her room, intending to go straight to the medbay and test out the lamp – and found Arkady standing on the other side, fist raised to knock.

“Arkady!” Violet exclaimed, quickly re-angling herself so that she was blocking the view of the table with its plant occupant (and thanking every single one of her stars that she hadn’t picked up the seedling to bring with her to the medbay). “Hi!”

“Uh, hi,” said Arkady, smiling a little quizzically. “I was just coming to ask- well, it’s more like the Captain told me to come and ask-”

“Is your leg hurting again?” Violet asked, quickly catching on.

“Not- excessively,” Arkady hedged. “But uh, more than yesterday?”

“I should definitely check it over,” said Violet firmly. “And I can give you more of that Zaletenol to help with the pain for the rest of the afternoon.”

So much for easily being able to keep Arkady out of the medbay – though, at least Arkady had picked now to ask for a checkup and not after Violet had installed the plant somewhere visible. Her leg had been bothering her a lot less recently, or maybe it was just that Arkady had stopped mentioning it. Violet tried to keep a close eye on Arkady as she moved around the ship, watching for any minute signs of pain or discomfort. Unfortunately, Arkady was very good at masking injuries.

“Thanks,” Arkady said, falling into step alongside Violet as they walked towards the medbay. “Also – hi.”

“Hi yourself,” Violet said, smiling at her. Arkady’s cheeks went a little pink.

“Are you sure you didn’t just come by because you missed me?” Violet asked, because she could never resist leaning into the flirting. RJ, whenever they were within earshot of it, called their flirtation “distracting”, but Violet was more than okay with that.

Sure enough, Arkady’s blush darkened. “I… did, actually,” she said. “I was going to come by anyway after my shift ended to see if you wanted to make something in the kitchen together. Jeeter’s promised to leave it alone for the evening.”

Violet, who had been expecting a quip in return, was temporarily lost for words at Arkady’s shy honesty – not to mention the implication that she’d gone to lengths to secure the kitchen so that they could spend some time together. “I – yeah, I’d love that,” she said, knowing she was definitely blushing as well.

Arkady stopped walking, and Violet stopped too, a little puzzled. “What?”

“We’re…” Arkady gestured at the door opposite them. “We’re at the medbay, Liu.”

“-Oh!” Violet couldn’t help snorting with laughter at her own inattentiveness as she hit the door release button. Now who was the one being distracted?

Arkady’s wound was still healing, but showed some signs of swelling that suggested she hadn’t been staying off it like Violet had told her to. “You know what I’m going to say,” Violet told her as she rolled off the biodegradable plastic gloves that she’d been wearing as she gently probed the edges of Arkady’s leg wound, and dropped them into the waste basket.

Arkady rolled her eyes and leaned back on her elbows. “Keep my weight off my leg; I know, I know. It’s just- hard.”

“I get it,” Violet said sympathetically as she dug out a gel pack and squeezed it to activate the cooling crystals. It expanded and inflated slightly as it began to work, which was always equal parts unnerving and satisfying to watch. She handed the pack to Arkady, who laid it against her leg, wincing slightly as it came into contact with her skin. “Sitting around isn’t your style. But the alternative-”

“-Is worse,” Arkady finished for her. “Yeah. I believe you, I guess I just… thought I’d be able to use it again by now.”

“You can use it,” Violet told her. “But go gently. And no running. Not even small amounts.”

Arkady grimaced guiltily, and Violet hid a smile, her hunch proven correct. “I’m going to relay these instructions to the Captain as well, so that she knows what to keep an eye out for,” she said. Arkady huffed indignantly.

“I don’t need monitoring.”

“I didn’t say you did,” Violet said mildly. “But she needs to know how your recovery is progressing so that she can account for it when she gives you jobs to do.” The fact that she didn’t expect Arkady to give Sana this information of her own accord went unsaid. “You need to hold that on your leg for ten minutes,” she added.

As Arkady sat there with the cooling pack held against her thigh, Violet fiddled with the settings on the overhead lamp – making a soft noise of triumph when the lamp switched to an ultraviolet setting.

“Uh-” Arkady said as the two of them were suddenly bathed in an odd black-violet glow, the white floral designs on Violet’s green top shining with unnatural brightness. “Is that the ‘tanning bed’ setting?”

Violet laughed and switched the lamp back to its regular mode. “Sorry, I was just testing – a lot of these more state-of-the-art long-haul ships are equipped with ultraviolet lamps, to counteract Vitamin D deficiency. It can also be a useful treatment for skin conditions like eczema and psoriasis.”

“Huh,” said Arkady, sounding interested. “So, the supplements we take-”

“Don’t account for all of what you need, though if we make landing often enough on planets with a nearby star, you can generally stave off a more serious Vitamin D deficiency,” Violet finished for her.

“Generally?”

“It helps to have one of these on board, just in case,” said Violet. Then, hoping she sounded convincingly casual enough, she added,

“You must have rigged up something similar on the Rumor, right? For the plants in the greenhouse, at least. They’d need some kind of imitation of sunlight in order to grow properly.”

To Violet’s relief, Arkady immediately nodded. “Don’t ask me about the engineering ins and outs of it, but Sana was able to incorporate a couple of ultraviolet bulbs into the greenhouse’s lighting system. Pure ultraviolet light is generally not a good idea, at least long-term – the plants need a balance of ultraviolet and white light to grow properly. So we had a mixture of both.”

Violet nodded in understanding, hoping it didn’t show that she was mentally filing away that detail. “That makes sense,” she said. “I guess I never thought too hard about the practicalities of growing plants in the middle of space.”

“It’s not as hard as it sounds,” Arkady said, and Violet almost laughed. “You just have to have a few key things. Light, water, drainage, enough nutrients in the soil… Well, okay, some types of plants are more picky, but the ones we grew on the Rumor were pretty hard to kill.”

Violet snorted a little, figuring it was safe enough to offer up this one detail. “In my experience, no plant is too hard for me to kill. I’m… not particularly good at taking care of them.”

Arkady laughed, and Violet eyed her, a little bit offended. “Sorry, it’s just – you’re a biologist. But you can’t keep a houseplant alive?”

Violet smiled ruefully. “Sad but true. I guess I’d better stick to taking care of people.”

“You, uh…” Arkady looked down at the cooling pack on her leg, gently pressing down on its edges. “You’re pretty good at that one. I mean, not pretty good- well, you are, but- very. You’re very good at it.” The cooling pack was really getting flattened now. Violet smiled, and reached out to gently touch Arkady’s hand and still it.

“Thanks,” she said simply, but tried to show in her expression everything she was feeling. “Shall we go make dinner? You can take the cooling pack off now.”

---

There was still something wrong with the plant.

After managing to persuade Arkady to divulge the secrets of plant care in outer space, Violet had snuck her gift into the medbay for a few hours each day under the guise of ‘inventorying the supplies’, and sat it under the ultraviolet lamp. The rest of the time, the plant lived in her room under a regular white light.

The system had seemed to work at first - the plant visibly perked up, and Violet was now thoroughly familiar with the range of equipment and supplies in the new medbay, which was a big bonus. But now that Violet was studying the plant under the ultraviolet light again, the evening before she was due to give the plant to Arkady, she could tell something was wrong. The plant’s leaves – which had become bigger and more numerous in the short time she’d been taking care of it – were drooping more than they had been, and some of them looked yellow. Frustrated, Violet mentally ran through what Arkady had mentioned you needed to grow plants. Water; she’d watered it twice. The man at the stall had said to water the plant “regularly”, but how often was that? The soil didn’t seem dried out, at least. She’d been giving it light, and as for nutrients in the soil, well, Violet had no idea how to check for that. But it wasn't like she could do anything about the soil if it was no good; they didn't exactly have fertiliser stocked on the ship. Squinting at the plant more closely, Violet was more convinced that something was off. There were these little... bumps on the stem and the underside of the plant's leaves. Bumps that were...

...moving. Violet reared back, clapping a hand over her mouth. Insects. Her – Arkady's – plant had an insect infestation. What was she going to do?? Mentally, she cursed the stallholder for selling her a bug-infested plant. But she realised that was uncharitable. Insects were a part of nature; you couldn't avoid that. He probably hadn't known about the bugs, and it wasn't as if she'd been checking for them anyway. But she couldn't give the plant to Arkady now. What kind of a present would that be? “Happy birthday; here's a sickly, bug-infested plant. Good luck!” She hated the idea of just throwing it out, though – of having to admit failure (again) after she'd tried so hard do things right this time. And she wouldn't have a present for Arkady's birthday. Obviously plant owners dealt with insects all the time, but Violet couldn't ask Arkady about what to do without arousing suspicion and ruining the surprise. Still, which was worse - giving the game away, or letting things get worse because she had no idea how to treat an insect infestation? That was when Violet had an idea. Banking on the fact that no-one was likely to enter the medbay without her there, Violet left Arkady's plant under the UV lamp and closed the door behind her. Looking up and down the corridor, she picked a direction and speed-walked, blowing past a confused RJ, who said, “Uh-” and almost bumping into Brian. “Hey, dude, everything all right?” “Have you seen the Captain?” Violet asked him. “Think she's up in the cockpit,” he replied. “Great, thank you,” said Violet, relieved. If Sana was up in the cockpit, that meant she was with Krejjh, which was... better than her being with Arkady. Not by a lot, because Krejjh was not renowned for their subtlety, but Violet would take what she could get. Coming to a halt in front of the cockpit door, Violet had just realised that she had yet to memorise the entry code for the new ship when the door opened. “Violet!” said Sana in surprise. “Are you okay, is something wrong?” “Not exactly,” Violet admitted as Krejjh, seated at the controls, craned their head around in interest. “I uh, needed your help with something.”

Sana’s expression immediately turned interested. “Okay. Do you wanna talk in here, or...” “Uh, just somewhere-” Violet didn’t want to hurt Krejjh’s feelings by saying ‘somewhere private’, but privacy would be ideal. “-else? It’s about...” Sana’s eyes widened in comprehension. “Oh! Don’t worry, Arkady’s busy with something in the engine room at the moment.” Krejjh fully twisted their body around. “Are you avoiding First Mate Patel?” they demanded with glee. Violet cringed slightly, wishing the Captain could have been a bit more discreet. “Not... permanently, just at the moment.” “We’ll fill you in later, Krejjh,” Sana promised. “Shall we talk in the kitchen, Violet?” Violet nodded, and the two of them made their way through the still jarringly shiny and unfamiliar corridors of the Iris II until they reached the kitchen. Once inside, Sana said, “So, what can I help you with?” “Uh, so this is going to sound like a weird question,” Violet hedged. “But... when you guys were growing food and plants on Cresswin, what did you use for pesticides?” Sana blinked twice and then frowned a little. “Gotta say, I wasn’t really involved in any of the growing – I’m not very good with plants,” she admitted, and Violet almost burst out laughing at the irony. “That’s more Arkady’s domain. But I do happen to know what Campbell uses on his tomato plants, and I think he mixes...” She turned to the cupboards and began pulling out bottles: vegetable oil, baking soda, dish soap. “Depending on how much you need, you want to use twice as much oil as baking soda, and just a little bit of the dish soap,” Sana explained. “And then you want to dilute it with a couple of quarts of water. You can put it in...” She produced an empty spray bottle from yet another cupboard. “This! I was going to make a cleaning spray, but your need is greater.” “Oh God, thank you so much,” Violet said, picking up the bottles. “Did Campbell really tell you all the quantities?” She tried to think when this might have come up over moonshine. Sana smiled, one of her dimples showing. “I helped him make it once. He was having a bit of a crisis.” Violet laughed. “So, a plant, huh?” Sana asked her, her expression knowing. Violet’s shoulders sagged slightly. “I’m not very good with them either,” she said. Sana smiled at her. “Luckily for both of us, Arkady is. And she will love it,” she said, and headed for the door. “Bugs and all.” Violet put one hand over her face and groaned, but she was laughing. She unscrewed the top of the spray bottle and got to work.

---

De-contaminating the plant was harder work than Violet had bargained for. Violet supposed that most people treating their plants with bug spray weren’t so concerned with appearances, but she really wanted it to look good for Arkady. (And dead bugs were not a good gift). So after spritzing the plant carefully but thoroughly with her homemade spray and then leaving it for a couple of hours to take effect, she used a cotton swab to dust the tiny stalks and leaves and carefully remove any traces of the bugs and the spray.

By the time she was done, it was well after midnight. Violet stretched her arms over her head and breathed a sigh of relief. The plant looked okay. Not in peak health, but okay, and maybe by the morning it would have perked up fully.

Even after midnight, there was always someone awake on the ship, but that someone was usually Krejjh, Sana or Park in the cockpit, which was why Violet deemed it safe to carry the plant with her from the medbay back to her room.

She realised that had been a mistake when, after taking just a few steps away from the medbay, she rounded the corner and came face-to-face with Arkady.

“Liu!” said Arkady, her expression lighting up in a way that Violet was slowly coming to realise might actually be just for her. It quickly gave way to confusion as Arkady spotted the plant. “Oh hey, that’s – cool, where did you…? I didn’t realise you had a plant.”

Violet briefly tried to think of a way to explain away the plant, before realising it would just create more confusion and giving in to the inevitable. At least it was after midnight.

“Um, I’ve been keeping it secret because it’s… for you,” she said, proffering the plant. “I was actually planning to present it in a much nicer way, maybe with a ribbon around it? Which is my fault for carrying it openly around the ship, but I thought you’d be asleep, and you’re not and now you’ve seen me, so uh… Happy birthday!”

A dumbfounded silence greeted her words. Violet waited, breath coming quicker as she nervously started to second-guess herself. Oh god, she hates it! The leaves look really yellow under this light, I didn’t realise – or did Captain Tripathi get the date wrong? Maybe it’s not her birthday after all? “I-if you don’t like it, though, I can just-”

“No!” Arkady said, her arms shooting out to take the plant quickly. “I mean yes! It’s great! I was just trying to think when you – when did you buy this? We haven’t made any stops for a week.”

Violet nodded, feeling giddy with relief. “I bought it at a market on Rodinia,” she said. “I’ve been hiding it in the medbay pretty much since then.”

“The ultraviolet light,” Arkady said with dawning realisation. “But you – hate taking care of plants. Right? Or did you just say that to throw me off?”

“No, that was true,” Violet said ruefully. “It’s a miracle this one is still alive.”

Arkady stared down at the plant with a complicated expression, but fortunately Violet was familiar enough with Arkady’s ‘I’m-coming-to-terms-with-someone-doing-a-nice-thing-for-me’ expression not to panic this time. “It’s a bonsai tree,” she said gently, to fill the silence as Arkady processed. “Well, one of several varieties – I know bonsai is actually about how you take care of the tree, and not the variety. This one’s a Japanese maple. Captain Tripathi said you liked trees, and I thought… you can keep this one in your room and grow it yourself.”

“You got me a tree,” Arkady said softly, and Violet could detect a tiny tremor in her voice. “My own… tree.”

“I hope it wasn’t too much, I-”

“No,” Arkady interrupted her quickly. “No, Liu, it’s… perfect. Really.”

Violet knew she was blushing, and smiling so widely it was almost painful, but she couldn’t care too much about either of those things – even though they were still standing in the middle of the corridor. “Happy birthday,” she said again. “I’m really glad you like it.”

Arkady looked up at her, holding the plant pot close to her chest, almost cradling it. “How did you know it was my birthday, anyway?”

“The Captain told me,” Violet admitted. “I hope that’s okay. She said you don’t really like… fuss around your birthday, and we don’t have to do anything else for it or even mention it at all if you don’t want to, but – I think she wanted you to have something nice. And so did I.”

Arkady’s face did something complicated again, her mouth twisting into a half-smile. “She’s too perceptive for her own good,” she grumbled. “She’s cooking dinner for me, isn’t she?”

“She is,” Violet confirmed.

Arkady sighed, but it was the sigh of someone who was secretly pleased and trying to hide it. “Just so long as there’s no singing.” She lifted the plant slightly. “I’m gonna go put this in my room. Want to… come with? You can tell me all about how to take care of it.”

Violet snorted, bumping her shoulder lightly with Arkady’s as they walked towards Arkady’s room. “I can tell you about all the ways I nearly killed it before your birthday.”

“That works, too.”

[askaceattorney]

Turnabout Memories

Hello and hap’piraki, everyone!

(Whoa...  Déjà vu.)

Now that we’re finally nearing the end of this (*twitch, twitch*) year, and now that I’m preparing to step off this blog for a time, I’d like to take a moment to reminisce about all the ground we’ve covered since the day I first discovered the uniquely fun experience of Ask Ace Attorney.

It all began a few years ago when...

Oh, right -- this’ll probably be pretty lengthy, so I’ll continue below the cut.

It all began a few years ago when I discovered Ask Ace Attorney through a Google search.  I don’t remember most of the details, but when I first found out about a blog that attempts to bring video game characters to life through blog posts and the power of imagination, I thought the idea was both strange...and amazing.

I’d only recently started getting into Ace Attorney at the time (after seeing Matthew Taranto’s hilarious mashup between it and the Kirby series), so I decided to send in a few letters and see if they’d get an answer.  Sure enough, a few months later, I saw the first response to one of them!  It was a pretty exciting feeling, to say the least.

I’d share that letter response here, but unfortunately, it included my real name, so we’ll have to save it for later.  For now, here are a couple of the earliest ones from me: a deeply emotional one from Dahlia to Iris (a little far-fetched, maybe, but I CAN SEE IT HAPPENING, THE MOD), and a short, punny one from Moe to Phoenix.  Not surprisingly, I enjoyed seeing the characters react to them in ways I found believable as much as I enjoyed writing these and several other letters.  I knew the Mod (the only moderator here at the time) wasn’t affiliated with Capcom, but his character portrayals were spot-on each time, and my creative spark and love for Ace Attorney received some constant fuel for a while thanks to this blog.

And then...this happened.  For a brief moment, I thought about how fun it would be to see if I could do what the Mod had been doing for so long, but then I decided it’d probably be better to leave it in someone else’s hands.  Sure, I was a huge fan of Ace Attorney and its loveable characters, but did I really love them enough to pretend to be them on a hugely popular blog?  Naaah.

I went over the rest of that story once before, so I’ll just give a brief recap here: my friend the Modthorne won the audition to become the next de Modder, I asked her if I could join, and then it ended up just being me here, followed by Mods Paups, Kristoph, and Maya.  That’s the way we became the Ask Ace Attorney bunch.

So, when I first made my debut as the Commode Co-Mod, my only real strategy for answering letters was to emulate the Mod's style.  I honestly wondered if I could accurately portray so many different personalities in a believable way, but, with a few hiccups along the way, I somehow managed to pull it off to some degree.  I also started developing my own style and becoming less conscientious about how my portrayals looked (that definitely took some time, though), and worrying less about the blog’s popularity and overall performance review.  That, I believe, was a big part of what made both of those steadily rise over time, until we ended up reaching and surpassing 12,000 followers!  (I’m still geekin’ out about that one.)  Just relaxing and going with the flow made things a lot easier for me, and apparently helped Ask Ace Attorney reach its current level of popularity.  Something tells me that choice paid off in the end, and thank goodness.

I of course have to give credit to the popularity of Ace Attorney and its characters, as well as the Mod for giving me and the other moderators so much material to start off with, but I sure never expected my role in helping to build the Ace Attorney fandom’s strength and size to be quite this large.  Heck, just getting to create things for so many people is a huge honor, so...what can I say to that, except a huge thank you to Capcom and the Mod?

Don’t worry, I’ll get to thanking all of you in just a moment.  ; )

So, anyway, that’s all the general stuff.  Let’s talk about the highlights of the last three years, now, shall we?

My first holiday-related post was an April Fool’s Day one, so let’s start there.  We came close to hearing about Phoenix’s lawyer camp incident...

...gave a few of the characters a chance to ask some questions of their own...

...had a little run-in with some of the bad guys...

...and briefly opened the window into some characters’ minds.

We sure didn’t fool around when it came to fooling around, did we?

Then there was Halloween.  We dealt with a creeper in the darkness...

...let one of the lesser-known characters go on a brief venture beyond the fourth wall...

...let some characters switch outfits and personalities for a short while...

...and paid homage to a classic interactive cartoon by letting them give out candy.

We sure had our fill of sweets and spooks, didn’t we?

And then there was Christmas, which included some of my favorite content.  We enjoyed a musical performance by several members of the Ace Attorney cast...

...a less flattering musical performance by yours truly...

...a short play taking place in Pearls’s dreams...

...and a fan-made song parody about a non-canon (but believable) incident involving Phoenix and a reindeer.

(Sorry if that image cursed anyone for life, by the way.)

I don’t know about you, but I loved every bit of our holiday hijinks.

And of course, we can’t leave out some of the great moments that occurred on non-holidays, including Her Benevolence falling victim to a classic comedy gag...

...Pearls meeting herself from a different time period somehow...

...Apollo taking a trip to the Pokemon world in his dreams...

...Athena getting tricked into thinking she had passed on briefly...

...Trucy getting caught red-handed by Arnold Schwarzenegger himself...

...and, uh...this thing happening to Iris.

No idea what I was thinking back then.  Sometimes you just have to go with the moment.

Not to mention one letter response that received an unexpected explosion of popularity.  Edgeworth always did know how to drop a sass bomb, didn’t he?  And one moment I’ll likely never forget is the letter regarding Athena’s hair.  For the record, I thought the shorter hairstyle looked okay, but somehow I didn’t think she would feel the same way.  Make of that what you will.  X )

Of course, it wasn’t all fun times and laughter -- I ended up stepping on some toes by accident, making a few jokes in bad taste, struggling to keep a balance between blogging and the real world, and...well...

...that happened.  I don’t regret a moment of it, though, because if Ace Attorney (and life) have taught me anything, it’s that powering through the less enjoyable moments in life is what makes us stronger, and what makes the good times that much more enjoyable.

But out of all the fun, hilarious, thought-provoking, and deeply touching moments that stood out in the last three years of blogging, the one I would say I enjoyed the most is this one.  It was my first attempt at responding to a letter in character (with one of the biggest “characters” in the series, no less), but, as with many of my letter responses, it also included some of me in it -- specifically, the part where Athena tries to sound optimistic, but not too prideful.  That was the sort of attitude I wanted to have whenever I answered letters -- I wanted to keep the fun and creativity of Ace Attorney and its characters going without injecting too much of myself into it.  The series wasn’t mine, after all, and neither was the blog, so my main goal was simply to sound like the characters.

And with that in mind, let me just say this: If any of these letters (even one of them) have made you smile or laugh on an unpleasant day, made you think about things from a different perspective, or simply helped you suspend your disbelief for a moment and believe you’re actually talking to someone from a video game, then my goal has been reached.

Anyway, I didn’t mean for this to be my goodbye speech (I’m saving that for later).  What it is is a sincere thank you for the fun and creativity that I and the rest of the moderators were able to engage in with all of you, thanks to our shared love of Ace Attorney, its characters, and its unique humor and depth.  Every last piece of witty dialogue, every picture, every song, and every custom sprite (the last of which can be found here), was inspired by your creativity and willingness to participate in this imaginative collaboration work.

I hope you’ve enjoyed it at least half as much as I have.  You guys are awesome.

-The Co-Mod

[venusiangguk]

O.o

Okay so my playlist!

I'll write them and some parts that remind me of icrl ?

Used to - Avalon young

"It still ain't the same If I got somebody She will never be you there"

" I'm thinking about summer 2012 yh we went through hell and back, .... your still the best I ever had "

( like the reminiscing, the yearning man, even if they move on, it's just neevr the same. Nothing will amount to the feelings that they had )

Time lapse - taeyeon

" The seasons are still the same

Though many have passed

Now it’s time that

I got used to being without you

But still, when I think of your name

Tears well up and when I close my eyes

I see you and even though everything changed

You’re always at the same place, looking the same

Making me cry "

( the season thing and then oc feelings and jungkooks that although many have passed theres still that feeling that love there, so strong that it transports them back to that time (?) )

Almost is never enough - ariana grande

" bc almost , almost is neevr enough so close to being in love " 💔

( I put more before but this really just fits so well )

Always I'll care - Jeremy Zucker

" Listening to self control

Those feelings that you'll never know" -

protecting from the heartbreak or whatever he thought he was protecting himself from.

Never not - lauv

" I will neevr not think abt u

From the moment I loved I knew you were the one "

The realisation that came to late. The realisation that he loved her, but ran out of time.

He realised when the ink had ran out in their love story.

" for as long as I live and as long as I love "

" we were so beautiful we were so tragic , no other magic could ever compare " 💔💔

12.45 - etham

" Oh, baby, you gotta stop, I see that you're calling

I told you that I ain't picking up

I know that you wanna start

'Cause we got our problems

I love you, but I just need a night off"

There were so many factors that lead to their downfall , but they both didnt fight harder to see past their own selfishness. They loved eo, but it just wasn't enough. So they put up shields, they built versions of eo that neither wanted.

You were good to me - jeremy zucker

"And I'm so used to lettin' go

But I don't wanna be alone

You were good to me"

Kind of like jungkook realising that he doesnt want to live alone, he needs to love. But he acknowledges that only oc could love him. Like love him. Be good to him. He grew and he matured and he found the answers to love in the memories he shared wth her 💔

300am

" Baby, if I could tell you, if I could tell you

How much I care

I'm in despair

Are you still there? "

I imagine this to be from jks pov in the years he spent growing up, thinking abt the possibilities to go back and start over, the agonising moments on the am hrs of the night.

Like strangers do - AJ Mitchell

" You and me, what are we if we not together?

It could be nothing 'cause nothing last forever

If you saw me on the train would you look the other way?

Like strangers do"

I think of this of jk from the time after period too !

More and more - finding hope

So many things I try to say to you

Then I don't feel too well

Get so close and then I bail

From that time too, jk wanted to run back but he ultimately put her first, and the happiness she was like searching and in pursuit of didnt include him.

I like to think that this is like the process of jk falling in love , or realising his feelings.

Also the yearning in this song is also soo yn imo

2 soon - keshi

Same crew but another mistress

Every day, every night getting wasted

But I miss you, what did I do?

Fuck it up, laugh it off and I lost you

I love you but I'm letting go - pamungkas

Cause you know what they say

If you love somebody

Gotta set them free

I love you but I'm letting go

Mean it - lauv and lany

But I'm all, I'm all in

I'm fallin' faster

But if you're looking at me with a

Heart of doubt

Don't kiss me right now

Don't tell me that you need me

Don't show up at my house

All caught up in your feelings

Fuck u goodluck - suggi

No one compares

Nothin' compares

I've never loved and loved so deeply

But how the hell could I argue a "no"?

'Cause you'll never change

For anyone's sake

I could've gave, and paid, and saved, and killed

But I guess no is a no

" Hope you learned how not to break a heart

So fuck you, and good luck too "

Iris - goo goo dolls

Dancing with a stranger- Sam Smith

Fire on fire- Sam Smith

Willow - Taylor swift.

Dont watch me cry- alex porat

Wrong direction - hailee Steinfield

Blue- taeyeon

" the words ' I love you ' which resemble you "

Us - keshi

" Maybe we've been

A little too guarded

From things that have hurt us

A bit more than we thought"

💔💔💔

There are more but I think this is so long alr 😭😭💛

I hope u have the best day ♡

omg thank you for telling me!! i think it's so cool that people get reminded of songs when reading my stuff so i appreciate it <3

[carewyncromwell]

The next Cinderella AU part is here...and I am so thrilled about this part, because not only do we get a new character (who I’m quite sure you can identify from the sketch above -- only my second time drawing him ever, and I’m actually pretty happy with it!), but we’ll also get a nice serving of drama! Goodie!!

Robin Hood as a legendary figure first originated through the oral tradition, so its history is a little hard to plot out, but his first reference in writing is a ballad from the 15th century. Although our modern image of Robin Hood is that of a chaotic good heroic figure, his original incarnation was decidedly less saintly -- he was a bandit, and although he did refrain from stealing from women, he was rather violent, reckless, and hot-tempered, as well as flagrantly against both clerics and all nobility. Robin Hood’s backstory of being a disgraced nobleman who turned outlaw after losing his title and land and who remains loyal to the “good king” Richard while opposing the unlawful regent Prince John was added later, presumably to make him a bit more “approachable” to an Elizabethan audience who was more accustomed to hearing tales about nobility (just look at a lot of Shakespeare’s plays from that period -- many of them center around royalty or the upper class). Plays about or referencing Robin Hood then increased in popularity on the British Isles throughout the 16th and early 17th century, until the rise of Puritanism in the 1640′s put a halt to theatrical productions. (Bloody kill-joys.) For more information on the history of Robin Hood’s development, I strongly recommend this analysis done by Overly Sarcastic Productions (...actually, just watch everything on their channel, it’s all great XD).

Previous part is here -- whole tag is here -- Katriona “KC” Cassiopeia belongs to @kc-needs-coffee -- and I hope you enjoy!

x~x~x~x

Carewyn had a lot of trouble returning to her daily routine at the palace the following morning. Getting so close to the border with Orion and hearing about how much scarier it was likely to get on the battlefield made her all the more worried for Jacob’s well-being. Even if the spell Charles Cromwell had paid for nine years ago made it so that Jacob would stay alive as long as he willed it, Carewyn dreaded the thought of what harm, physical and emotional, that Jacob might face. If she only had some idea which battalion he was a part of and where on the front he’d be, then she could always just try to send a letter his way...maybe even ask Orion to drop it off to the camp for her, since his father was an officer. But Carewyn had combed every military roster she could get her hands on, but hadn’t been able to find a single record of Jacob anywhere.

‘He must be under another name,’ Carewyn told herself. 

It wouldn’t be too unreasonable that Charles wouldn’t want Jacob to advance in the ranks on the back of their family name. And really, Carewyn knew full well how displeased her grandfather would be if he found out she was trying to reach out to her brother without his approval -- he could’ve even forced Jacob to take on another name, just to try to make it that bit harder for Carewyn to contact him without his approval...

Carewyn’s friends noticed a rather abrupt shift in her mood. She was singing as always, but her choices were a bit less upbeat and her voice sounded oddly distracted and nostalgic. At one point, Andre mentioned offhandedly that he’d been designing themed outfits for his friends to wear to his mother’s New Year Eve’s Masque Ball, but Carewyn had trouble putting much attention on it.

“I’ve already finished some ‘owl wings’ on a cape for KC and a fur-trimmed wolf mask and gown for Erika...I was thinking perhaps a stag for Bill, a dragon for Charlie, and a lioness for Ginny? I considered a horse at first, but I think a pale gold would make her just glow, don’t you think? Yours I’m most excited for, though...I’m hoping to actually make your newest pair of shoes with fabric on the inside for comfort and diamond on the outside for sturdiness, if I can manage it!”

“Mm...that sounds great,” said Carewyn absently.

Her gaze was drawn out the nearest window, as far out as she could.

“...Andre,” she said slowly, “I realize this is very last minute, but...may I have this afternoon off, to go see my family?”

Andre blinked. “Is something the matter?”

“Oh no, no,” Carewyn lied with as pretty and reassuring of a smile as she could. “It’s just...well, it’s nearly Tristan’s birthday. My uncle keeps him very close to home, compared to my other cousins...I merely thought I might stop by and bake him a little something, as a surprise.”

Andre frowned slightly. “You...get along better with your uncle and his son than with Iris, then?”

“No, but Tristan is only a boy. It’s hard to hold any bad behavior against him. And well, maybe if he and the others don’t know I made it, he’ll enjoy it better.”

Carewyn could see Andre still looked confused and a little dismayed, so she quickly added, “I’ll be back by tomorrow morning, in time for my rounds. I won’t allow it to interrupt my duties.”

Andre offered a hesitant smile. “Well, all right...if it really means that much to you.”

Carewyn’s eyes softened. “Thank you, Andre -- I really appreciate it.”

Fortunately for Carewyn, Andre wasn’t the best at picking up on other people’s pretenses. Unfortunately for Carewyn, two of his most regular confidantes were his cousin KC and fencing instructor Erika, and they did pick up on Carewyn’s odd behavior.

“She said she wanted to surprise her cousin with something for his birthday?” asked KC, frowning deeply. 

“Well, yeah,” said Andre. “I admit, it seemed a little weird to do something so nice without even wanting credit, but Carewyn is an awfully selfless sort. From the way she made it sound, she just wanted to do something nice for him.”

“And you believed her?” said Erika rather coldly. 

She whacked Andre’s practice sword out of his hand with her own, making the Crown Prince hiss in pain. 

“I’ve told you before, Prince Henri -- you all may think Carewyn Cromwell’s nothing like her family, but that’s absolute bunk. She might be more pleasant than them, but she’s not stupid and she’s not honest. Or did you not notice that that weird guy she hangs out with keeps calling her ‘his lady,’ as if she weren’t the penniless orphan of a deadbeat merchant?”

Erika picked up Andre’s sword and tossed it back to him with ease. 

“Then of course that guy himself is shady as all get out.”

Andre frowned. “You mean Orion? Come on, Erika, he isn’t that bad -- I thought he seemed quite amiable, myself. Don’t you agree, KC?”

“He is,” said KC fairly. “But Erika isn’t completely off-base. There is a lot about Orion that we don’t know -- that even Carewyn herself doesn’t know. She admitted as much to me, after I first met him. That being said,” she raised her own sword and got into position to attack Andre, “I don’t think Orion’s a threat. You would think anyone with the ability to sneak over the palace walls not once but twice would’ve tried to make some move to attack you by now, but he’s only ever come looking for Carewyn. And although I don’t completely understand the reason behind why she’s acting like a lady around him,” she shot Erika a faintly reproachful look as she and Andre traded blows, “I’m pretty sure it has more to do with her own insecurities than because she’s a terrible person -- ow! Damn it!”

Andre had successfully disarmed KC. 

“Insecurities?” he said, his eyebrows furrowing in concern. “What is there for her to be insecure about? I mean, yes, she has no dowry, and taking Orion’s wardrobe into account, I’d suppose he has to come from a family with modest wealth -- but Orion seemed to enjoy the Weasleys’ company quite well, and their family is poor. I think they’d make a lovely match, really,” he added with a rather smug grin. “They even matched at the Festival, without realizing it.”

KC massaged her wrist, frowning a bit sourly. “Yes...but Carewyn is solely under Lord Cromwell’s charge. He’s the one who sent her here. He’s the only guardian she really has. And I think it’s quite clear how much influence he has over his family -- even his daughters who married into other esteemed families still live at his estate with their husbands and children, rather than moving out onto their own estates. And in Carewyn’s case, she doesn’t even have a parent to help shield her from Lord Cromwell’s will. She doesn’t have a penny to her name. So that means, in effect, she’s chained to him, and in those circumstances...well...”

She hesitated. 

"Well what?” Andre prompted her. 

KC looked incredibly uncomfortable. 

“I didn’t want to say anything before without knowing for sure...but I think someone’s been looking at our military ledgers, documenting troop placements. Everything’s neatly put away the way they should be, but there are more fingerprints on them than before. And usually I’m the only one who has much use to look those up, whenever I’m ready to suggest a new war strategy...”

Erika’s eyes narrowed very sharply and she got right up into KC’s space. “And you’re only just saying this now?! That information could be critical to Royaume’s enemies! What if that guy Orion sneaked in not just to see Cromwell, but to get his hands on those? Or what if it was Cromwell herself, working in collusion with him?”

“Impossible,” Andre said forcefully. “Carewyn would never be a spy for the enemy -- it’s not in her character.”

“And I don’t think Orion would know where those documents would be, even if he did sneak in,” said KC. 

Erika, however, looked unconvinced as she made for the door. “You can coddle those two all you want, but I plan to tell the King and Queen -- they’ll want to interrogate Cromwell and this ‘Orion Freeman’...”

“Erika, belay that!” Andre said in a suddenly much sharper and more authoritative voice. “That’s an order.”

Once Erika had stopped walking and turned back around, the Crown Prince exhaled heavily and crossed his arms in a business-like manner. 

“I’ll get to the bottom of this,” he said firmly. “If Carewyn is heading to the Cromwell estate, she’ll have to take the road through town, correct? I’ll simply take a horse and follow the road after her.”

Erika and KC looked startled. 

“Uh, Andre,” said KC, “you haven’t forgotten that you’re not allowed to leave the palace, have you?”

Andre smirked. “No. I’m just sneaking out.”

Before Erika and KC could articulate an argument, he added in a much sassier voice, “Look, I’m doing it whether you come with me or not. I’d appreciate the company if you want to come along -- all I expect is that you’ll dress appropriately. I hear linens and cottons are fashionable for those who don’t wish to attract attention.”

And so Andre, KC, and Erika made preparations to follow Carewyn...completely unaware that a half-hour earlier, Bill and Charlie Weasley had -- after having a similar, but much more concerned conversation with Badeea Ali about Carewyn clearly lying to Andre’s face -- decided to take their horses and tail their friend themselves. And sure enough, the two eldest Weasleys soon enough found themselves following Carewyn on the road heading northeast, avoiding the Cromwell estate all together.

At the very same time, in Florence, Orion had finalized his plan. Today was the day he was going to request a formal audience with Prince Henri, as Prince Cosimo VII. As Carewyn had said, he’d need to act fast if he was going to stop his father from finding a way to complete his own ruthless strategy -- the battlefield itself would be a difficult place for Orion to make his case, with so many distractions, but he knew a more balanced, peaceful setting wouldn’t be. And so he wrote a long letter to the King, explaining everything that he had learned from Royaume and its people as well as Florence’s own, so as to make a case for peace. He then had the court magician Severus Snape deliver it to the Florentine camp in his stead, while he dressed in his finest and prepared to leave for Royaume. 

When he made as if to take his own horse, however, Orion found Skye and McNully waiting for him, a black coach already prepared. 

“If you’re planning on going to meet Prince Henri, you really should arrive in style,” said McNully with a wry smile. “A good first impression to the King and Queen would help your case by a good 45%.”

“And you have to know there’s no way in Hell we’re going to let you go out and expose your true identity to the enemy without back-up,” Skye added, her arms crossed over her chest. “

Orion’s black eyes softened. “...Thank you.”

As he climbed into the carriage, both McNully and Skye’s faces nonetheless betrayed some hesitation. 

“Are you sure you want to do this?” McNully asked. “There’s a 74% chance they’ll respond badly to it -- I reckon there’s a 39.5% chance they’ll try to arrest you on the spot and hold you as a prisoner of war...”

“I carry no weapons with me, and I come with the explicit purpose of diplomacy,” said Orion levelly. “Therefore I’m not an enemy combatant. As long as I follow their direction while under their roof, then any harm they might do me would be violating the conventions of war...and the Royaumanians, for all of their flaws, do have honor.”

“One could make a case for you having been involved in espionage, though,” McNully pointed out, but Orion ignored him and settled down in the carriage, crossing his legs offhandedly. 

“What about Lady Cromwell?” said Skye, her voice a bit lower and more concerned. “She’ll find out you’re a Florentine. And not just any Florentine, the Prince of Florence.”

Something sad flickered through Orion’s confident, unflappable expression.

“She was going to learn the truth sooner or later,” he murmured. “If our time together has come to an end...then at least I may have the memories to hold onto...and the knowledge that by ending this War peacefully, I may have spared her of more heartache.”

He closed his eyes and began to meditate, clearly having said his piece on the matter. Skye and McNully, however, couldn’t help but exchange a look that was both anxious and very sad. 

As long as they’d known Orion, he’d always been a little reckless, but he was also passive and avoided direct confrontation. This plan to directly appeal to Royaume’s royal family, however, required a lot of guts  -- far more than either of them had thought Orion possessed. And they knew such courage could only have been encouraged by one person...the very same person who Orion loved so much that he would choose to follow her example and protect what she loved, even if it meant destroying their relationship forever. 

Orion meditated during most of the journey to the Royaumanian palace. It was merely fortunate that, as they approached, McNully broke him out of his trance by tapping him on the shoulder and pointing out the window. If he hadn’t, then Orion would not have seen a rather familiar trio of riders on horseback, riding through town past them -- a short, stocky lady with dark red hair and freckles; a very tall blonde with a square jaw and sharp eyes; and a very handsome dark-skinned man dressed in a purple tunic, emerald green pants, and gold-buckled black boots. 

“Stop the carriage!” said Orion, his soft, level voice nonetheless very firm despite not rising in volume. 

He barely waited for the carriage to completely stop before slamming the door open and jumping out.

“Andre! KC!”

Andre, KC, and Erika all stopped their horses in an abrupt halt and turned around as Orion dashed up to them.

“Orion?” said Andre, startled. 

KC looked from the rather finely dressed Orion to the expensive-looking black coach behind him and back. Erika’s eyes narrowed critically upon Orion as he came to a stop in front of them, his hands clasping in front of him. 

“I...had not expected to see you out and about,” said Orion, trying to put on his most pleasant, calm expression. 

Andre glanced over his shoulder up the road, frowning deeply. “Yes, well...some business has come up.”

“Orion, have you seen Carewyn?” KC asked him, her face very serious. 

Orion blinked. 

“Not since last night,” he said. He could feel his heart starting to beat faster. “Why? Is something wrong?”

“Never you mind,” barked Erika, as she turned back to the road. “Come on, we don’t want to lose the trail -- ”

“Erika,” reproached Andre, before he turned back to Orion, his face visibly concerned. “...Carewyn asked for the afternoon off to go see her family, but it was very last minute, which isn’t like her. And according to what we’ve heard in town, there’s been no traffic down the road toward the Cromwell estate in the last four hours...”

“So Carewyn had to have been lying about where she was going,” finished KC, her face much more stoic but her voice no less tense. “We need to find her and figure out why.”

Orion’s eyebrows had furrowed over his widening black eyes. His heartbeat was slamming in his ears as the memory of Carewyn in the woods returned to him -- looking northward, toward the army camps, as if longing to run toward them --

“I know where she’s gone,” he said at once. 

He rushed back to the coach, grabbing onto the window frame and standing on the boot of the carriage. 

“To the northern border,” he urged Skye, who sat in the driver’s seat. “Quickly!”

“The border?” repeated Skye as a sharp whisper. “But Orion, your meeting with the Prince -- ”

“Can come later,” Orion told her very firmly under his breath. “Both he and I must get to the war front.”

He shot a significant look over his shoulder in Andre’s direction. McNully, putting two-and-two together, nodded and inched himself up to the window of the carriage. 

“If you tie one or more of your horses to the carriage, we should decrease our travel time by a good 21% per horse,” he told Erika, KC, and Andre. “If Carewyn left an hour ago, then with one horse, we should be able to overtake her within an half-hour -- two, within twenty minutes, and three, within ten. Though with Orion on the boot, there’s a 12% chance he’ll fall off if we ride at full speed, so we might have to go at 95% instead -- ”

KC fixed the blond-haired man with an incredulous look as she leapt off her horse. 

“Are you really calculating all that on the fly,” she asked, looking as if she wasn’t sure whether to be impressed or amused, “or are you just pulling those numbers out of fat air?”

McNully couldn’t help but grin. “Excellent! Now I can officially say that I’ve been asked that question over a hundred times before.” 

Still looking faintly bewildered, KC moved to help Andre, who’d quickly started attaching his, Erika’s, and her horse’s to the front of the carriage with the two black ones already pulling it, ignoring Erika’s incredibly sour and distrustful expression. There was no time to lose. 

From the boot of the carriage, Orion directed Skye down the same road he’d taken with Carewyn the previous night, Andre, Erika, and KC riding with McNully inside the coach. Once they’d reached the forest, Orion caught sight of a familiar-looking golden eagle with a bandaged wing -- at the sight of the Florentine prince, the eagle gave a loud shriek and flew down into the trees, and Orion urged Skye to pursue him into the woods. The road took them deep into the trees, until at last the eagle landed on a branch over the heads of two familiar-looking ginger-haired men, who were bound with thick rope to a tree. 

Bill and Charlie were stunned at the sight of such an elegant coach, but were absolutely beside themselves with relief at the sight of Andre, KC, and Erika. Erika immediately yanked a knife out of her ankle boot and set about sawing off their bindings -- once she’d cut Charlie free, he immediately rushed forward and grabbed Andre’s shoulders. 

“We’ve got to hurry!” he said anxiously. “They’ve got Carey!”

“‘They?’” said Andre, very startled. “They who?”

“This band of Florentine bandits,” said Bill, his voice very low and urgent. He kept maneuvering his bindings as Erika cut them to try to sever them faster. “They cornered us so they could try to rob us -- they were willing to let Carey go since she was a lady, but she bartered with the leader, saying that they could take her so long as they left us alone. Claimed that they could probably get more money from holding her hostage than us, given her family...”

Both Skye and McNully glanced at Orion. The Prince’s face had lost most of its color -- he’d turned his face away and closed his eyes, breathing in and out slowly as he tried to stabilize his emotions. 

“The bandits in these woods are Florentines, so I doubt they will harm you,” Baroness McGonagall’s words returned to his mind, “but I cannot be sure how they would respond to a Royaumanian, especially one related to one of their wealthiest noblemen.”

“They took all three of our horses and tied us to the tree so that we wouldn’t follow them,” growled Charlie. “They left us a knife so that we’d be able to cut ourselves free, but it’s so dull I reckon it would’ve taken us hours to do it ourselves...”

Bill succeeded in snapping the weakened ropes in half and leapt back to his feet, massaging his wrists. 

“They must have taken her to a camp of theirs,” said KC, her dark blue eyes narrowing. “Even bandits need some base of operation.”

McNully nodded, resting his arms on the edge of the coach’s window. “The lady is right. Given where we are, I’d say the odds are fairer that it’s southeast of here.”

“Closer to the Florentine side of the border, you mean,” presumed KC, and McNully nodded again. 

“They were heading south through the woods,” said Bill. “But we won’t want to bring the coach. They stopped us because they wanted money -- if they have any reason to think any of you have it, they’ll no doubt want to imprison you too...”

“On the contrary,” said Orion in a very low voice, “this carriage may be just the thing we need, to ensure that they don’t imprison us.”

Everyone looked at Orion, their faces all a mixture of incredulity and revulsion, but he seemed disinterested in explaining himself. 

“We must be quick, McNully,” said Orion, and although his voice and face were as level and unreadable as ever, they both betrayed a slight edge. “Time is not on our side.”

With Bill now sitting with the driver’s seat next to Skye and Charlie hanging off the boot with Orion, the black coach set off again. Overhead Orion caught sight of the wounded eagle again, which shrieked at them warningly -- the Prince thought it must mean they were close, but did not respond fast enough to the trap set out in front of them. 

The coach rode right through a certain cluster of vines, and within seconds, they had magically sprung to life, lashing themselves around the limbs of the five horses pulling the coach. The steeds reared back, panicked -- Skye immediately yanked out a sword from her belt and began hacking away at them, and Erika and Andre both leapt from the carriage with their own swords to help, but it was no use. The vines only lashed onto them, binding all three of them fast and making it impossible for them to move. And when things seemed like they couldn’t be any worse, without warning, a group of green-dressed men and women had swung down from more vines attached to the nearby trees, surrounding them in a tight noose-like circle and pointing their arrow-decked bows at them. 

They were trapped. 

“Well, well,” said a voice from the trees above, “we don’t often see coaches that ritzy out here.”

The voice’s owner leapt down to the ground. Unlike his companions, his hooded tunic was yellow instead of green. When he lifted his head enough that they could see his face, it was the host of a mischievous smirk. 

“Especially ones crafted in Florence,” the dark-haired and eyed bandit said breezily. 

Andre, KC, Erika, and the Weasleys all stiffened. 

“Florence?” breathed Bill. 

They all as a unit whirled on Orion. His face was remarkably calm and solemn as he stepped off the coach and in front of the others and faced the bandits’ leader, his hands clasped in front of him. 

“We do not come seeking trouble,” he said. “We merely come to retrieve a lady who surrendered herself to you. Frame like a robin’s. Hair the color of a red sunset. Eyes the color of the sky.”

The bandit’s leader raised his eyebrows curiously. “The maid called Cromwell?”

“That is her.”

“And what reason would you desire her in your custody?” challenged one of the green-dressed bandits with a cocked eyebrow, a dashing man with tanned skin and dark brown hair. 

“Wants to ransom her off himself, no doubt,” sneered another woman with messy brown hair and cold magenta eyes. “He probably works for Lord Malfoy -- we all know he’s the sort to make money off illicit enterprises and keep it all to himself, rather than give it to anyone who actually needs it...”

Two of the other bandits -- a pair of women with long red and short pink hair, respectively -- exchanged a sour look. 

“We have nothing to do with Lord Malfoy,” spat Skye, vainly tugging against the vines binding her. “We wouldn’t collaborate with that rat if you paid us -- !”

“Skye,” said Orion in a quelling voice. 

The last bandit, a very strong-looking man with dark red hair and emerald green eyes, frowned deeply at the leader, who considered Orion carefully. 

“I know your face,” he murmured. 

Orion inclined his head, his black eyes boring into the other man’s face. “I’m sure you do.”

The leader’s thin-lidded eyes narrowed critically -- then they widened, realizing. 

“Bring out Lady Cromwell at once,” he said abruptly. 

The others all whirled on him. 

“What?!” cried all three women and the dashing man. 

“Jae, are you mad?!” said the woman with the magenta eyes. 

“Do it,” said the leader called Jae firmly, without flinching. 

The strong bandit -- the only one who hadn’t questioned the leader’s direction -- grabbed a vine, which immediately retracted back up above them. 

Jae glanced at the magenta-eyed woman. “Merula, have the vines set them loose.”

Merula looked rather scandalized. “What? Oh come on, you know how much of a pain it is, to have to recast a spell after it’s broken -- ”

“Better that we do it now than wait around for the spell to expire on its own,” Jae said dryly. 

Still looking very reluctant, Merula nonetheless did as she was told, holding up her hand, which glowed with light green. 

“The terms are now invalid,” she muttered sourly at the plants. 

The plants sparkled with a similar green flare before falling limply off of the horses, Andre, Erika, and Skye. KC and Bill moved to detangle the now harmless plants from their companions and around the horses’ legs, and Charlie moved to soothe the frightened steeds. 

Within a minute, the strong bandit was back, holding onto the vine easily with one hand and holding Carewyn under his opposite arm. She had her ginger hair tied back in a loose bun and was dressed in the green peasant dress she’d worn to the Festival and her slightly oversized brown shoes -- no doubt because it was the most comfortable dress for travel she had. Orion was also beyond relieved to see that she was perfectly unharmed -- not a single cut or bruise. 

“CAREWYN!” cried KC, Andre, Bill and Charlie in relief. 

All three of the men immediately dashed right over to her and threw their arms around her in a group hug. 

“It’s all right,” Carewyn reassured them with a small smile. “I’m all right.”

“They didn’t hurt you?” Bill interrogated her. 

“You must have been terrified -- ” said Andre. 

“Where are the horses?” asked Charlie. 

“Tied up in a makeshift stable over there,” said the pink-haired bandit with a wry grin and a vague hand gesture. 

“A bit tricky to lug them up into treehouses,” added the red-haired one cheekily. “And no, for the record, we did not hurt Carewyn Cromwell. She may be a stick in the mud, but she’s a decent sort.”

“And brave too!” said the muscled man, beaming. “She wasn’t scared at all, not even when Merula stuck a knife in her face!”

“I was only getting fed up with her smart remarks,” huffed the magenta-eyed bandit called Merula. “You’d think she was the Queen of Sheba, with how she acts...”

“She is a proper lady, to be sure,” said the dashing bandit, shooting Carewyn a rather Casanova-like smile. 

Carewyn tried to stifle a snort of laughter behind her hand as Jae approached her. 

“Seems you’ll have an escort after all, Carewyn,” he said, lowering his bow with a slightly more serious look. “I don’t think I can convince you to reconsider, but under the circumstances...well, just make sure you’re careful. I’d hate to hear of Royaume losing one of its only honorable citizens due to their own stupidity.”

Carewyn inclined her head to him, her blue eyes very solemn. “I’m far from Royaume’s most honorable citizen, Jae, nor from any other country, I daresay. But thank you.”

Jae nodded. He then looked up at Orion. 

“By your leave then, your Highness,” he said with an abbreviated bow. 

He then nodded to the other bandits, and one by one, they all disappeared back up into the trees. 

None of the people on the ground, however, gave them much mind. All of them had turned back around to face Orion -- Carewyn felt like her heart had stopped still as she stared, taking in his neat ponytail and finely tailored black doublet and hose and boots. 

“...‘Your Highness?’ ” repeated Charlie, shocked. 

Andre’s eyes widened. “Then...then you’re...?”

Orion swallowed, but somehow managed to keep his composure as he nodded. His eyes were locked on Carewyn’s face, never shifting and as turbulent as a black ocean. 

“King Cosimo’s new heir,” KC breathed, her face flooding with fresh understanding around her amazement. “Cosimo VII.”

[jade4813]

Questions in Time

Fandom: The Flash

Title: Questions in Time

Rating: G

Pairing: Barry/Iris

Synopsis: Barry and Iris's relationship has been marked by a series of questions. Entry for the 2021 Westallen Alphabet celebration on Tumblr.

“What’s your name?” the young girl asked as she bent to help him gather his things, which lay scattered on the floor from where he dropped them.

He flushed and shot her a quick look. “Barry. Barry Allen. What’s yours?” He mumbled an embarrassed thanks as she placed the last rogue paper on the stack in her hands and passed them over.

She didn’t seem to notice his discomfort or the blush staining his cheeks. “Iris. You’re new here, huh?” At his nod, she rose to her feet and adjusted the weight of the backpack that was slung over one shoulder. “You headed to lunch?” He didn’t even get a chance to answer before she continued in a voice that brooked no argument, “Come on. You can sit with me.”

He straightened, realizing that Iris was a good two inches taller than him. He had thankfully outgrown every child’s fear of the cooties but was still young enough to be able to admit that she was pretty without being worried about what that thought might mean. From the casual greetings students offered her as they passed, he could also tell she was popular.

But she didn’t seem to notice the curious looks she drew as she walked into the cafeteria next to the new boy who was still too much of a stranger to have made any friends. She also didn’t notice his shyness. Instead, she rambled away as she quietly guided him on which foods on offer were safe to eat and which were to be avoided at all costs.

He was too young to recognize what love was. But if he’d been just a little bit older, he might have suspected he fell in love with her from that very first conversation on their very first day of being friends. And he would never stop.

---

“Anyway, wanna spend the night at my house tonight?” Iris asked, appearing out of nowhere and presenting the question as though the two of them were in the middle of a conversation they absolutely hadn’t been having.

Luckily, Barry and Iris had been friends long enough that this tendency of hers no longer surprised him. “Probably, but I’ve gotta ask my mom. Did your dad give permission already?”

She shrugged, unperturbed by her technical lack of permission. “He’s got a big case, so he’ll be working late tonight.” Joe tended to be more lenient about Iris having friends over on nights he was wrapped up in a case at work. Possibly because he felt guilty to work such long hours. “I’m gonna ask if we can rent a couple movies when he picks me up from school. We can have popcorn and ice cream and – ooh, Celeste!”

Her head whipped around as she caught sight of one of her other friends as they passed in the hallway. In a hurried voice, she blurted, “Catch you after fifth period? I’ve gotta ask Celeste a question about our math homework.”

Before he could even answer, she’d darted away.

---

“What’s up, Bar? You not enjoying the movie?” At his quick look of surprise, she explained, “You just sighed.”

He grimaced, lifting one hand to rub the back of his neck sheepishly. He hadn’t realized he’d even made a noise. “Ah, no, it’s okay. It’s just…” He let his voice trail off. Lifting her eyebrows slightly, she gave him an encouraging nod. Rolling his eyes at her, he explained, “I didn’t realize there would be this much kissing.”

Iris laughed, the sound washing over him like music. “I didn’t realize you minded kissing movies so much. What’s the matter? You don’t still think girls will give you cooties?” she teased him.

That wasn’t the problem at all. The problem was that he’d found himself wondering what it would be like to kiss her. He didn’t know where the thought had come from. Or why it had come upon him so suddenly. But he absolutely couldn’t let her know what he’d been thinking.

“No!” he blurted, a little too defensively. The sharpness of his tone caused her to straighten from her reclining position on the couch, her body moving slightly away from him. Desperate to rescue the situation – while still keeping her ignorant of his private thoughts – he stammered, “I-I was just wondering if, uh, if you had ever kissed anyone?” His tone lifted at the end in question, breaking off with a small wince of mortification as he realized he’d probably picked the worst way to deflect her suspicion.

But she didn’t seem suspicious. Instead, she seemed strangely shy, kicking her foot out to trace patterns on the floor with one bare toe. “Oh,” she breathed. “No. Have – have you?”

He shook his head desperately, hoping she wouldn’t see his utter humiliation. Or the words that hovered on the tip of her tongue, asking her if she wanted to kiss him.

He made a soft choking sound when she asked, “Do you want to try?”

“Try what?” he practically squeaked.

She didn’t directly answer the question. “I-I mean, we’re friends. I just thought…kissing seems so silly, but…I’m not sure I’d do it right, and I’d feel less nervous if I tried with a friend.”

“Oh,” he replied, somewhat stupidly. “Okay.”

His breath caught in his throat as her eyes flew to his, and he could see she’d been expecting him to turn her down. But then her face softened into a smile, and she leaned forward, moving almost torturously slowly.

She hadn’t even bridged half the distance before footsteps sounded in the doorway and Joe strolled into the room, his arms filled with two large bows of popcorn. “Thought you guys might be hungry, so I brought some snacks,” he explained obliviously as Iris and Barry sprang apart as though they’d been caught in the midst of some sort of illicit activity.

Neither of them mentioned what they had been about to do. They certainly didn’t try again. But when Barry went to bed that night, he found himself wondering what it would have been like to kiss Iris. And wondering even more why he was having such thoughts about the girl who was supposed to be his best friend.

---

“Do you really believe me?” he asked, his head in her lap as she ran her hands soothingly through his hair. He kept his face averted, not wanting her to see the tears that streaked his cheeks. Though she’d been listening to him sob for at least the last hour, so she could hardly be ignorant that he’d been crying. “About what I saw?”

“Of course I believe you, Barry,” she reassured him gently.

“They think it was my dad,” he whispered miserably. “But h-he wouldn’t—”

“I know,” she broke in, sliding one hand to his shoulder to give it a soft squeeze. “I don’t know who the Man in Yellow was, but we’ll figure it out somehow. Together. Okay?”

---

“Where are you going?” Iris’s soft voice was almost enough to stop him in his tracks. But he was too angry, he was hurting too much, to be forestalled for long.

“I’m leaving!” he grumbled angrily, tossing some clothes into his backpack. “Joe doesn’t believe me about my dad! Nobody believes me! They think I’m crazy, that I—”

“I believe you,” she refuted him, her words soft and sad.

He hesitated, throwing her an apologetic look over his shoulder. “I know,” he finally agreed, his words tinged with regret. “But he wants to take me to another therapist who will tell me I imagined what I saw that night. I didn’t, I swear! And I can’t just abandon my dad in jail like they want me to."

She gave a quick, decisive nod and threw her arms around his shoulders in a tight hug. “I know. You do what you gotta do, Barry Allen. I’ll try to cover for you with dad.”

Before he pulled away, she pressed her lips softly his cheek. Even through his fury and his frustration, as he ran down the street away from the West house a few minutes later, the spot where she’d kissed him tingled.

---

“So, you planning to go to the dance on Friday?” Iris asked cheerfully as he passed her in the hallway, his hair still wet from the shower.

He snorted. “Of course not. It sounds dumb. Why?”

If he wasn’t wrong, she looked a little embarrassed. And maybe just a tiny bit hurt. “Oh. No reason, I guess. I just…Steve Asherman asked me to go, but I thought I’d rather go with you. But it’s okay. You’re probably right. It’ll be stupid anyway.”

With that, she ducked into the bathroom, closing the door behind her. Leaving Barry to reproach himself for his rashly chosen words. Wishing he could find a way to turn back time to ask her to be his date to the dance after all.

---

“Well? How do I look?” she asked, spinning in a circle in front of him.

He couldn’t tear is eyes away. “A-amazing,” he answered honestly. “You look amazing.”

She came to a stop with a grin. “You sure you don’t want to come along? I’m sure Steve wouldn’t mind.”

Barry had no doubt Steve absolutely would mind, since it was the worst-kept secret at school that his crush on Iris was exceeded in duration and devotion only by Barry’s own. Plus, he could imagine nothing worse than being a fifth wheel on a date with Iris. Particularly knowing he could have been on her arm – as a friend, at least – if not for a few thoughtless words. “Nah, that’s okay,” he replied, keeping his voice lighter than he felt. “I had a book I wanted to read tonight anyway.”

She laughed. “You are such a nerd, Bar,” she teased him lightly. Before he could even consider whether his feelings should be hurt at this assessment, she threw her arms around his shoulders and stretched onto her toes to give him a hug. It had been a long time since the days she’d towered over him. “But that’s one of the things I love most about you.”

He felt her start to pull away and felt his arms tighten around her, wishing to prolong the embrace. Her words echoed in his mind. “…that’s one of the things I love most about you. Love most about you. Love you.”

He didn’t realize what she was about to do until it was already done. As she started to pull away, she turned her head slightly and brushed her lips against his in a quick kiss. He froze when he realized what had happened, and she took the opportunity to step out of his arms.

“Wh-what was that?” he asked, knowing his face had to be bright red.

“Oh,” she replied, and he could see the flush on her own cheeks. “It’s just…it’s silly, but…you were supposed to be my first kiss, remember? I mean, it was years ago, so m-maybe you don’t. But then my dad interrupted us, and I—”

“I remember,” he prompted when her voice trailed off. She wouldn’t look at him, her fingers worrying the fabric of her dress instead.

“Oh. Of course you do. Well, I just – uh – it seemed a shame to have my first kiss with someone else when…I mean, you’re my best friend so I thought – I’m sure I wasn’t very good at it, but—”

He shook his head, cutting her off. “No, you were fine! I mean, I think you were. It was just so fast. I just, um, I don’t think I did a very good job, is all. I didn’t realize – I mean, I didn’t know—”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have just laid one on you like that. I was just nervous about tonight. I thought if Steve tried to kiss me, I wouldn’t know what to do.” She huffed out a deep breath. “It’s stupid. I’m sorry,” she reiterated.

“No, it’s okay!” he reassured her quickly. “I, um, do you want to kiss Steve? I mean, if he tries to kiss you?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I haven’t decided. I just wanted to be prepared. You know, in case.”

“Right,” he agreed rather vaguely. Not really sure what he was agreeing to or whether he should be agreeing at all. His mind was too preoccupied by the realization she’d kind of kissed him and he’d missed it. “Do you, uh, do you want to try again?” When she looked surprised and a little confused, he explained, “I just…I was surprised, so I don’t think I did a very good job the first time. If you’re wondering what it’s like to kiss someone, I don’t think I helped very much.”

“Oh,” she said for the third time in as many minutes. “Um…sure.”

He could tell she was nervous. He was too, as he leaned down slowly, giving her every opportunity to change her mind and step away. Until the distance was breached and his lips were pressed gently but firmly against her own.

If he ever looked back on their first as an adult, and if he could be honest with himself when doing so, he’d acknowledge that – in the entire history of kisses – his first kiss with Iris would rank nowhere near the top in terms of finesse. It couldn’t have been a more awkward first kiss if they’d tried, since neither knew what they were doing so they just stood there with their lips pressed together and didn’t move so much as an inch.

But he’d dreamed about kissing Iris for so long, he couldn’t have imagined a more perfect moment if he’d tried. If only he knew how she felt about him in return.

When the kiss finally broke off, Iris pulling away as her eyes darted around the room nervously, he tried to tell her how he felt. “Iris, I—”

“Iris!” Joe called from downstairs. “Your date’s here!”

“I-I should go,” she blurted before he could continue. “I don’t want to keep him waiting.” She turned to run downstairs but hesitated in the doorway. Throwing him a quick glance over her shoulder, the corners of her lips curved up in a soft smile. “Thank you, Bar. I hope kissing me wasn’t too traumatizing for you,” she teased him gently.

As she disappeared, he groaned in the back of his throat and leaned back against the wall. Actually, it had been devastating. It had left no doubt in his mind that he loved her. He always had. He always would. And she would never see him as anything other than her best friend.

---

“Got everything you need?” she asked, her eyes scouring the room as she grabbed for his hand. Intentionally drawing out the moment before they would have to say goodbye.

He let her, no more eager to leave her than she was to see him go. “I think so,” he said, a touch of regret in his voice. Then, clearing his throat, he said more encouragingly, “This isn’t forever, you know. I’ll come home over breaks and at the holidays…”

“I know,” she cut in, the cheer in her voice not ringing true. Scowling when she seemed to realize the same thing, she added in a tone just above a whisper, “It’s just…it won’t be the same. I’ve been spoiled, getting to see you every day.” Then, giving his hand a quick squeeze, she said more firmly, “But I know you’re going to do great. You’ll blow everyone away with how brilliant you are, and pretty soon, you’ll forget all about me.”

“Never!” he vowed, the word thick with feeling as he pulled her into his arms for a tight hug. “I could never forget about you.”

He heard her soft sniffle as she pressed her cheek against his shoulder. When she finally drew back, he could see the wetness in her eyes as she fought back tears. “Just…do good, Bar. After you graduate, come home to me and we’ll figure out the identity of the Man in Yellow together. Promise?”

Barry was momentarily taken aback. He hadn’t realized she knew why he was pursuing his planned course of study, or that she was even aware how much the mystery still plagued his mind. But in retrospect, he probably should have known better. That was Iris. Of course she knew.

He pressed a kiss against her forehead, wishing – not for the first or last time – he was brave enough to tell her how he felt. Knowing it wasn’t the right moment. “I promise.”

---

“Well? Tell me everything!” she blurted before he’d had even settled into the passenger seat by her side. “How do you like college life? Have you been to any wild parties? Gotten any crushes on some hot girl in your science classes?”

He laughed as he struggled with his seatbelt, finally wrestling it into place. “Wow, what’s with the interrogation? Has anyone ever told you that you’d be a terrifyingly good detective? Or actually a damn good reporter?”

She snorted. “You know dad would never allow me to wear a badge, and I can’t see reporting being quite my speed. I was thinking of psychology, actually. Which, by the way, is why I know what you’re doing is deflecting so you don’t have to answer my questions about all the hot dates you’ve been going on in my absence.”

He rolled his eyes at her. “Sorry to burst your bubble, but I’ve been studying too hard to go on any hot dates, if you want to know the truth.” He swallowed, wondering if he dared say a little more. “I do, uh, have a crush on someone, actually. But I doubt she even knows I exist. I mean, romantically. She’d never want to go out with me. We’re just friends.”

She scowled. “What’s her name and number? I want to call her and tell her to open her eyes and stop being such an idiot because you, Barry Allen, are the most incredible guy I’ve ever met. And you deserve someone as amazing as you.”

“Yeah?” he asked, feeling a tiny spark of hope flare in his chest. He’d hoped time away at college would have cured him of his unrequited love of her, but it seemed to have done just the opposite. Being with her now, he realized he loved her more than he ever did before he left.

“Yeah,” she agreed in a voice that invited no argument. “Now, I want to hear all about it, but I think this conversation calls for caffeine and baked goods. Unless you’re in a hurry to get back to the house?”

He shook his head. “Nope. I’m all yours,” he replied. If only she knew how true that was.

---

“Who’s she?” Iris asked as she flopped back onto Barry’s bed, the flimsy frame letting out a loud shriek of protest at the sudden jarring motion. He looked over to see she was holding the picture frame that had been sitting on his bookshelf for the past two weeks, bringing him equal measures of pleasure and guilt.

“Oh,” he said rather dimly, sliding onto the narrow mattress next to her. She scooted toward the head of the bed until her back was pressed against the wall and he followed suit, their shoulders pressing together in the limited quarters available to him. “That’s Holly. She was my study partner for finite math.” At her expectant look, he explained, “We’ve, uh, we’ve been dating for a couple months now.”

Her mouth dropped open, less with surprise than with joy. “You’re dating someone? Barry, that’s fantastic! Why didn’t you tell me you had a girlfriend?”

He winced. “Girlfriend? I don’t know that I would call her my girlfriend, per se. It’s just been a few dates, and—”

“Don’t be silly,” she cut in, rolling her eyes at him. “If it’s been a couple months, she’s your girlfriend.”

That only served to make his guilt worse. Did she find it peculiar that he kept a picture of his “girlfriend” on his bookshelf and a picture of Iris on his nightstand? If so, she didn’t say anything about it. The problem was, Barry didn’t know if it was peculiar. He didn’t know if it unconsciously revealed something he’d felt but didn’t want to openly accept.

Like the fact that, nice as she was, Holly wasn’t Iris. And she never would be.

“Anyway, she’s very pretty,” Iris continued, ignorant to his thoughts as she gave the picture in her hand a critical look. “Is she nice?”

Now it was Barry’s turn to roll his eyes good-naturedly at her. “No, of course not. I only go for surly girls. Mean ones. You know that.”

She snorted and elbowed him in the ribs as just punishment for his teasing. “To you, you goofball. Is she nice to you?”

“I guess so,” he admitted reluctantly.

“Well, I’m glad. You deserve someone nice. I hope she makes you happy.”

“She does.” The problem was, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to make her happy. Not when his heart had long ago been given to another.

---

“You okay?” Iris asked, dropping onto the porch stair beside him. “Dad said you and Holly broke up.” Then, as though afraid he’d be upset his secret was out, she rushed to add, “Don’t be mad at him for telling me. I think he’s worried about you.”

“I’m not mad,” Barry reassured her, tilting his head back to look up at the stars. While he was sure she was under the misconception his failed relationship had brought him to silent and solitary contemplation on the front porch, the truth was, he hadn’t been thinking about Holly at all. He’d been thinking about Iris. Which was, when one came down to it, why their relationship had been doomed to fail from the start.

Scooting in closer, she laid her head against his shoulder, offering him condolences he didn’t deserve. “You’ll find the right girl someday, Bar. I just know it. Someone as amazing as you are.”

He made a soft sound in the back of his throat, uncomfortable at accepting her comfort under false pretenses. “What about you? Don’t you want to fall in love one day?”

He regretted the question when it caused her to lift her head off of him so she could follow his gaze toward the starry night sky. “Me?” she asked in a voice so soft it barely broke the still evening air. “I’m not sure I know what love feels like. People say it’s like being swept away, like fireworks exploding all around you. And I’ve never felt anything like that.”

He shrugged, sliding one hand toward her until he linked his fingers in hers. “Maybe love is nothing like that. At least, maybe it isn’t like that for everyone. Maybe it’s like this. Sharing a quiet evening with someone you can’t imagine life without. That doesn’t sound so bad, does it?”

Her smile was brighter than the light coming from the street lamp nearby, and then she sighed and placed her head upon his shoulder once more. “No,” she admitted, letting her body rest against his. “I guess that doesn’t sound so bad at all.”

He could tell she hadn’t understood, hadn’t realized that he was speaking of his own feelings. In that moment, he almost told her how much he loved her. But the timing didn’t seem right, so he rested his cheek against the top of his head and held his tongue. Soon. He’d tell her he loved her soon.

---

“What’s the big news?” Iris asked excitedly, blowing into the room like a gust of fresh air. Leaving him breathless in her wake.

“You’re looking at the newest CSI for the Central City Police Department!” he replied with a wide grin.

“Really? That’s amazing! I knew you could do it!” she cried, joyfully flinging her arms around his neck.

Soon. He’d tell her he loved her soon.

---

“Barry, can you hear me? Do you even know I’m here?” Iris asked, her voice cracking with tears she struggled not to shed as she placed her hand over his. Trying to be strong for him. “The doctors say they don’t know if – when – you’ll wake up, but I know you’re in there somewhere. Come back to me, Bar. I need you.”

---

“Are you – this is real? It’s really you?” Iris asked, cupping his face between her palms before running her hands along his shoulders and down his chest.

He captured her hands in his, holding them still over his heart. “It’s really me.”

Tearing her hands free, she flung them around his neck, pulling him into yet another hug. At least their eighth in the past half hour. “I dreamed you’d come back to me so many times. I’d almost given up hope—”

He tightened his arms around her waist, content to hold her for however long she wanted. If it was up to him, he’d never let her go. “I’ll always come back to you, Iris. You should know that.”

---

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked him in a tortured whisper. “All this time, you never told me how you felt.”

“Because I was scared. I didn’t want to lose you. I don’t want to lose you.”

But she wouldn’t meet his eyes, turning her face away so he couldn’t read her thoughts, and he felt his heart sink in his chest. Had he lost her anyway?

---

“I picked up some breakfast. Want some?” she offered him a little awkwardly as she gave a box of baked goods a gentle push in his direction. Things had been awkward between them since he’d told her of his feelings. He didn’t know if they’d ever stop being awkward. But at least she was still trying. She hadn’t given up on him yet.

“Yeah,” he agreed with a small sigh of relief, reaching for the blueberry muffin he suspected she’d picked up just for him, since neither she nor Joe liked blueberries. “Thanks.”

---

“I just don’t understand. You’ve been lying to me this whole time about being the Flash? I mean, it’s one thing not to tell me your secret. But you tried to make me think I was crazy to even think he existed! How could you do that to me?” Iris demanded. He knew she was angry, but what killed him was that she sounded hurt, as well.

“I’m sorry,” he replied honestly. Desperately. Afraid he was losing her. “I should have told you the truth a long time ago. You were the first person I wanted to tell! It’s just…Joe was afraid it would put you in danger, and—”

She crossed her arms over her chest, the expression on her face granting him no quarter. “This isn’t about my dad. This is about you. You’re my best friend! You could have told him to go to hell when he told you to lie to me, and you didn’t! Why not? Was it – didn’t you trust me?”

He shook his head, a quick jerk of his neck. “It wasn’t like that,” he tried to explain in a hoarse whisper, his voice filled with regret. “I trust you! I trust you more than anyone!”

His regret was nothing compared to the pain in her voice when she asked in a pleading whisper, “Then why?”

Barry’s gaze dropped to the floor. What could he say to her? How could he explain? He had his reasons, but they all sounded like weak excuses, lies he’d held close to his heart so that he didn’t have to admit to the possibility of one ugly truth: that he’d lied to her about being the Flash for the most selfish of reasons. Because he’d liked the way she looked at the scarlet speedster when she didn’t know Barry Allen was the man beneath the mask.

---

“So, Flash, inquiring minds want to know…how fast can you move, anyway?” she asked, reaching out and snatching one of the fries off his plate. “Not fast enough to stop me from stealing your food, apparently.”

He tried to hide his answering smile. “I’m pretty sure nothing on Earth could stop you from stealing my food. And is this…are you really planning to interview me right now?”

“You said I could!” she replied defensively, stealing another fry. He didn’t argue the point because it was true, he had. He just hadn’t realized she planned to frame it as an actual interview. She probably knew enough about him at this point that she could write her article without asking him a single question.

But she recently had seemed so excited to get into reporting, and he didn’t want to do anything to wipe that smile from her face. So he shrugged instead. “All right, well…I’m not sure how fast I can move, exactly. At least, I don’t know that I’d want your readers to know how fast I can run. I’m worried about people finding out too much about my powers. Might help them find a way to take me down.”

She nodded thoughtfully, making a quick note in the small notepad by her elbow. “Fair enough,” she agreed. “But I can say you’re fast enough to run up the side of buildings, at least.”

He nodded. “Sure,” he agreed. But before she could ask him another question, he got an idea. “Though, really, if you want to know how fast the Flash can run, there’s nothing like experiencing it for yourself.”

Iris’s eyes darted toward his in surprise and confusion. “You mean like…how could I—”

Barry held out his arms, silently offering to carry her. “I don’t know that it’s the kind of thing everyone enjoys, but…want to go on a run with me, Miss West? I’ll get you back here before your fries even have a chance to grow cold. I promise.”

She considered him in silence for a long moment. Finally, however, she stood. “All right,” she agreed, taking a step toward him. He sped away to change into his superhero costume, returning before her foot had made contact with the ground. She came to a stop before him, and his stared into her eyes as he leaned down slowly to lift her into his arms. Their eyes remained locked as she wrapped one arm around his neck, holding on tight. “You ready? If it gets to be too much for you, just let me know and I’ll slow down, okay?”

She nodded, and he realized with pleasure that there was no fear in her eyes. “I’m ready,” she said firmly.

He took off, running as fast as he could, reveling in the power of the speed force as it traveled through his body and moved him faster than any man was meant to travel. As he pushed himself to move faster, faster – wanting, perhaps, to show off for the woman he loved a bit – he kept one eye on her face. The moment it seemed like there might be something wrong, he would stop and make sure she was okay.

But Iris didn’t seem frightened. She didn’t seem unnerved by their speed or the blurring city streets as they raced by. Instead, she laughed, reveling in his abilities almost as much as he did. Holding tightly to him as he ran faster, faster, faster. Not just unafraid but gleeful over the very powers that had brought him such joy amidst the inevitable pain that came with the life he led.

Was it any wonder he loved her?

---

“Are you sure you’re up for this?” Iris asked, resting her hand atop the bandage that covered his most recent injury. Her eyes were filled with worry, so he offered her a reassuring smile as he rose gingerly to his feet. The happiness and love he felt when he was near her was strong enough to almost drown out the pain in his side.

“I’m okay,” he told her, a tiny white lie. He took her hand and gave it a quick squeeze. “I heal fast. Anyway, I’ve got to get back out there before anyone else gets hurt.”

“I know,” she agreed with a heavy sigh. “Just…be careful, all right? I don’t know what I’d do if I ever lost you.”

His heart swelled at her words, giving him the strength he needed to race into the fray once more.

---

“You do know we can’t just keep doing this forever, right?” she teased him gently, the words coming disjointedly between soft kisses pressed against her lips. “At some point, we have to stop for food, at the very least.”

Barry made a soft sound of disagreement, his lips trailing from her mouth along the curve of her jaw to the soft spot under her hear that made her sigh with pleasure. “Later,” he promised, making her giggle softly at the determined growl of his voice. He’d wanted to hold her like this for years. He  wasn’t quite ready yet to let her go.

---

“Stay with me tonight?” she asked in a soft, shy voice, reaching her hand toward him.

He didn’t need her to ask twice.

---

“You sure you really want me to make an honest man out of you like this?” Iris teased him, curling up against his side as he turned off their bedside light. He placed his hand over hers where it lay against his chest and felt the hard ridge of her engagement band. It made him smile to think that there had been a time he’d thought she would never love him as he loved her.

He smiled at her, though he knew she wasn’t likely to see him in the dark. “I’ve wanted it almost all my life,” he whispered, lifting her hand to press a kiss against her palm. So much had happened in his life that had been strange and unexpected in the years since he’d first developed his powers. There were no doubt untold strange and unexpected things he would face in the years ahead. But he’d face them unflinchingly if he had Iris by his side.

---

“Penny for your thoughts?” she asked as she sank onto the couch next to him, flinging her legs over his.

Barry winced, almost wishing she hadn’t asked. His thoughts weren’t exactly ones he was desperate to share. But he couldn’t lie to her, so he said slowly, carefully choosing his words, “I was just thinking…being with me…I haven’t exactly given you the perfect life you deserved, have I? It’s always something with us. Psychic gorillas, evil speedsters from another world, time travel…either that or I’m locking myself into the speed force and leaving you behind, or making you think I’m never coming home, or getting framed for a murder I didn’t commit. And now, with what happened at our wedding…I just can’t help but think one day, you’ll wake up and decide being with me was a mistake. Your life could have been so much easier if you’d fallen in love with someone else.”

“Hey,” she said, waiting until he finally turned his head to meet her eyes. “I never asked for easier, and I certainly didn’t want to fall in love with someone else. I’m not even sure I’d know how to try, since I’m pretty sure I’ve loved you most of my life without realizing it. I don’t care about the gorillas or the time travel or the evil speedsters. I don’t even care about talking sharks in pants! As long as you come home to me every night. That’s all I need for my life to be perfect.”

---

“Do you ever think about the future? About the life you want to have when all this is over?” she asked, leaning against him as they stared out the window at the bustling city below.

“Sometimes, but it’s hard to picture what that will be like,” he admitted. “Except to know that, whatever my life will be like, I’ll never stop wanting you in it.”

---

“How could you not know?” she whispered, curled up in her hospital bed. “I – maybe I’m not being fair. But it wasn’t me. For weeks, it wasn’t me. And you didn’t know.”

Barry’s head fell forward, his shoulders sagging in defeat and despair. “I don’t know,” he whispered. But he would never forgive himself for not realizing the truth sooner. For leaving her in the mirror world alone.

---

“Are you okay? That fight looked pretty bad.” Iris’s voice was soft, concerned, soothing his wounds yet breaking his heart.

His hands shook with the desire to hold her, but he didn’t have the right. Instead, he sighed and sank onto the sofa, where he would be sleeping for the night. As he had the night before and the night before that. It was his own choice – and his own doing. Iris hadn’t asked him to leave their marital bed, but his guilt kept him away. After spending so much time with her mirror counterpart without a shred of suspicion, he didn’t deserve to touch her. Iris deserved better than that.

He didn’t respond right away, so she said his name again, the word a soft question on her lips. “Barry? What is it?”

“It’s fine. I’m fine,” he lied.

He heard her step up beside the couch and felt the gentle pressure of her hand on his shoulder. “Come to bed.”

He looked up at her in surprise, almost unable to believe his ears. “Iris – you’re sure?” She nodded and he rose slowly to his feet, not wanting to make any sudden movement that might scare her away. She slipped her hand into his, leading him toward the bedroom, but he didn’t follow immediately. Instead, he whispered, “Are we okay?”

She hesitated, and he could see the muscles in her shoulders grow tense for a moment before relaxing again. He heard her sigh, and then she turned to face him. “Not yet,” she admitted, holding his hand tight so that he couldn’t pull away. “But we will be. Anyway, I miss my husband. Come to bed.”

---

“Twins?” Iris asked in amazement, staring at the white and black images on the ultrasound screen. “There has to be some kind of mistake…we can’t be…can we?”

Barry’s astonishment mirrored her own, but the two circles on the screen left no doubt. “Twins,” he breathed. They were going to have twins.

He hoped they took after their mother. Not that he was such a bad person to take after, but…oh, god. What if they both inherited his powers? What age would they kick in? When they were teenagers? Toddlers?

One thing was for sure: He was definitely not prepared.

---

“You understand, don’t you?” Iris asked in a low, pained whisper, wincing when a slight movement pulled at the new stitches in her side. “I have to keep going. It’s important. People deserve to know the truth, and I’m the only reporter out there chasing down this story right now.”

“I know,” he admitted, squeezing her hand in his own. “I can’t ask you to stop, but try to be careful, okay? I don’t know what I’d do if I ever lost you.”

---

“Oh my god, would you stop?” she asked on a laugh.

“What?” he replied with false innocence.

Smothering a giggle, she shook her head at him. “I know you’re proud, but you don’t have to start every conversation with, ‘Did I mention my wife just won a Pulitzer?’ you know.”

He nodded gravely in response, but he knew he wouldn’t really be able to help himself. He was proud of her finally getting the recognition she deserved after years of hard work and dedication, and he didn’t care who knew it.

---

“So, Flash, are the rumors true? Are you and Wonder Woman dating?”

Iris’s voice was light and joking, but he scoffed rolled his eyes at her anyway. “Don’t even start. We fight one battle together, and everyone wants to make something of it,” he grumbled, pushing his cowl back off his face.

She laughed. “Don’t even pretend like you aren’t loving this just a little,” she teased him. “It’s okay; we’ve been married a while. It’s gotta be flattering to hear rumors that you’re dating an actual Amazonian princess. I mean, just look at her. Is she as gorgeous up close as she is in her pictures?”

“She doesn’t hold a candle next to you.” When he saw her eyes widen with surprise, he bent down and brushed his lips against hers in a warm kiss.

When the kiss finally broke off, she gazed wistfully up at him, the corners of her mouth twitching with a laugh. “I – you know, flattery looks really good on you. But while I’ve got you in a good mood, how about an interview with your favorite reporter?”

“Anything you want, Mrs. West-Allen. Anything you want.”

---

“This is real? It’s really you?” Iris asked, launching herself into his arms. Barry breathed out a heavy sigh of relief as he held her close. The scene reminded him of one he’d experienced before. But that was long ago, when he was young and strong. Now age and countless battles hung upon him, stooping his shoulders and putting streaks of grey in his hair. His children were grown now, a lifetime of happiness and of regret leaving its mark in the lines upon his face.

“It’s really me,” he reassured her, pressing a hard kiss against her temple. How many years had he lived this way? How many decades had he dedicated to serving the citizens of Central City? How many times had he left Iris in fear of being a widow, rather than a wife?

She would never ask him to give up his life as a superhero. Not for her. But he’d come too close to death one too many times. He’d faced the prospect of leaving Iris alone more times than he could bear. This most recent battle had been close. Too close. He couldn’t take such a risk again.

“I’ve come back to you, Iris, just like I promised. You don’t have to worry anymore. I’m home.”

---

“Stay with me?” Iris asked, her voice weak and thready. “Just a little while longer.”

He lifted her hand, pressing it to his lips. He hated to see her like this, frail and trembling. She was slipping away from him; he figured she had minutes left, if he was lucky. It wasn’t enough time. It would never be enough time. But Barry wasn’t a victim to time the same way as everyone else.

Clutching her hand tightly in his, he vibrated as quickly as he could. He hadn’t moved this fast in years, his connection to the speed force having long since faded. For a moment, he was scared he wouldn’t be able to do it again. But perhaps the speed force was kind. Or perhaps it pitied him. But it did what he asked, one last time. It pulled Iris with him into Flashtime. Giving him a few moments more to say goodbye.

As the world stilled around them, Iris let out a heavy sigh of relief. The pain that had clouded her eyes and etched deep grooves into her face faded, wiping years off her face. Her features were soft and relaxed, and a smile graced her lips. She was at peace.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he promised, resting his cheek against her fingers. But she was. He wouldn’t be able to stop it forever. With her hand still in his, he climbed up into the bed next to her, pulling her gently against him.

She sighed and leaned into him, resting her head upon his chest. “Bar, I want you to promise me something. Promise me you won’t give up when I’m gone. Live the rest of your life. Take care of our family—”

“Iris, no,” he begged, feeling himself tremble as he held her. “It’s not enough. I need more time.”

“We’ll always want more time,” she whispered. “Promise me. Please.”

But how could he make her such a promise? When he lost her, he would lose so much of himself. What would be left of him? He’d loved her almost his entire life; picturing his world without her now was almost impossible to contemplate. It was certainly too terrible to bear. But it was what she wanted, so he would have to try. “I promise,” he said, the word coming out on a small sob.

He could feel her soft smile against his chest. “I won’t really be gone, you know. I’ll just be waiting for you to run home to me. So don’t waste the time you have left with tears.” Giving her hand a small but firm tug, so pulled it away from his, silently asking him to return time to normal and let her go.

He didn’t want to do it. If it was up to him, he’d keep her in Flashtime forever. Slowing each second to an eternity. But she was right; even that wouldn’t be enough. And, anyway, he’d never really been able to deny Iris anything. Not even this.

With reluctance, he stopped his superhuman speed, watching the world around them return to its normal pace. Then he felt her breathe out one last, long sigh as she curled in closer to his warmth.

“We had a hell of a run, didn’t we Bar?” she asked in a voice almost too soft to hear.

He felt her body grow still beside him and no longer tried to hold back his tears as he pressed a kiss against the top of her head. “Yeah, Iris. We did.”

---

“Iris?” he asked as the bright light around him faded, revealing her standing before him, her hand outstretched. Waiting for him to take it. He reached out and placed his palm in hers and she laughed, pulling him closer. She looked as beautiful as she had on their wedding day, so many years before. “Is it really you?”

He’d lived a long life. Most of it was happy, though some of it wasn’t. But now he was an old man, years older than he’d been when he’d held his wife in his arms for the last time. If it hadn’t been for the promise he’d made her, he doubted he would have been able to carry on so long. But it was what she’d asked of him, and so he’d done his best. Until finally, at the end of his life, he raced into the speed force one last time. And he’d found her there, waiting for him.

“It’s me,” she reassured him, giving his hand a quick squeeze. She felt so real, and the teasing gleam in her eyes was just as he remembered it. “I told you’d I’d be waiting for you to run home to me.”

“I promised I always would,” he reminded her, pulling her toward him so he could steal a kiss. It, too, was just like he remembered. “But…how? I thought only speedsters—”

“I was surprised, too,” she admitted. “I guess it’s one last gift from the speed force. I was your lightning rod, after all.”

That made sense, he supposed, though the explanation didn’t really matter. What mattered was she was here. His Iris. He’d been running for so many years; now, finally, at long last, he could stop. He could think of nothing better than spending the rest of eternity in the speed force, with her by his side.

Finally, at long last, he was home.

[ladyseaheart1668]

Endless Summer Book 4: Daughter of Vaanu (Chapter 55)

Description: In the aftermath of her daughter’s birth, Alodia fights for her life. 

Tagging: @endlesshero1122 @feartheendlesssummer @mysteli @whatmcsaid @xo-endlessmayhem-xo @tigerbryn11​

Chapter 55: Inevitability

Alodia

I felt the static creeping in at the edges of my vision even as I heard the voices around me telling me to push. Michelle. Jake. A thousand ageless, sexless voices belonging to the generations of ghosts manifesting around me. Push. Find a breath somewhere in the suffocating fog, gather together the seeds of strength scattered across a barren landscape and plant them in my core, let my tears be rain to nourish the soil, and push against the determined life tearing me apart in her effort to be free. Then I feel her slip free, and her piercing shriek is like music. She is alive. Unto the world, I delivered the fruit of my womb, and she is free of my body. And when the fog envelops me, I don’t fight it anymore. I’ve earned my rest.

I can feel myself sinking. I can also feel myself buoyed out of freefall by countless arms that ease me gently to the ground.

...Alodia...my daughter…

Vaanu? Father? Is that you?

“Hey. heyheyheyheyhey…” Jake’s fierce whisper close to my face, the repeated syllable sending puffs of warm air over my skin. “Stay with me, Princess.”

Aren’t I here? Aren’t I here with him? Where am I? Where am I going? Sudden awareness of a chill at the back of my neck brings the world sharply into focus. Jake at my head, hunched over me. Estela cradling my feet on her lap. And Michelle beside me, a towel in her hands rubbing down the small, warm body on my chest.

“You’re doing so well, Alodia,” she tells me. “The hardest part is over, but you’re not quite done yet. Placenta should deliver in a few minutes. ...Are you okay if I leave you for a minute to check on Diego?”

“...Diego…? Is he…?”

“He’s injured his shoulder. I’ll take care of him until help arrives. Iris, monitor Alodia and the baby. Keep checking their vitals and sound the alarm if there’s any change.” I am aware of her placing my arms around the body on my chest. “...You hang onto your baby, Alodia.”

...My baby...my daughter…

...My daughter…

Oh, no...please, no...please, leave me alone… Drawing breath feels like trying to suck up ice-cream through a straw. I open my mouth, forcing out a word in a weak exhale.

“...Jake…”

“I’m here. I’m right here. I’m right here with you.”

His face is dim and fuzzy above me. But behind him, my father’s ghostly form is bright.

“Alodia. My sweet child…”

No! Jake, don’t leave me! Don’t let me go!

You’re not going anywhere, Princess! I won’t let you!

I’m sinking...

Caleb

I didn’t bother explaining to Ysa what was going on in that house. When we met up with her cousins and brothers, I only assured them that Dragonness and her people were taking care of it, and told them we were getting out of here. They didn’t protest. I don’t know if it’s because they agreed with me, or because they just saw there was no arguing with me, or because they were finally satisfied, or they were just cold and worn out and wanted to be back in the warm van. Unfortunately, when we reach the van, there’s one more obstacle to get past.

“Hi, Dragonness!” RJ calls cheerfully to the masked superhuman leaning casually against the van door. Her hands are folded low in front of her, one ankle crossed over the other. In anyone else, the pose would be non-threatening. But Dragonness isn’t anyone else. I’m pretty confident she doesn’t want to hurt me, but she can definitely keep me from leaving with minimal effort.

“...Thought you were back at the squat,” I say carefully. “...Those people need help.”

“The situation is under control.”

“Is everyone okay who we want to be okay?”

“...I don’t know yet. What I do know is that if you hadn’t have shown up when you did, the situation could have been a lot worse.”

“Didn’t seem like you were that far behind me.”

“In a situation like that, every second counts. ...You know who those people are to me.”

“Yeah. Kind of. I’m pretty sure I picked up the basics.” I pause for a second, trying to get a measure of her intentions. “...Listen, Dragonness...the kids are tired and cold. I’d like to find someplace to put ‘em up for the night, maybe get ‘em something to eat.”

“Let me level with you, Caleb. The authorities are going to be all over this whole thing, and I don’t see a way to keep your name out of it. Me and mine might lie, but I’m willing to bet your...former associates aren’t going to be so accommodating.”

“...So say you lost track of me.”

“I intend to. ...But I don’t want it to be true.”

“Pretty much a given now. Considering you could hold me here with your little finger, it’s really up to you to either let me go or turn me in.”

“...Or I take a third option.”

“What kind of third option?”

She takes a step away from the van. “...You trusted me before, Caleb. I am hoping you will trust me again. I don’t know what will happen in the morning. But I do know somewhere you and the kids can be safe for the night.”

Alodia

Consciousness comes in waves. Between the moments of lucidity there is darkness and silence, but it isn’t sleep. It’s like being shut up in a windowless room. I feel afraid in a distant sort of way. But I am also tired down to the marrow of my bones. Anxiety spikes in consciousness and bleeds out with the tide, leaving exhaustion in its wake. There’s a voice, calm and confident, and commanding my attention.

“My name is Ryan. I’m an EMT, and I’m here to help. Can you tell me your name?”

I hear myself answer, “Alodia…”

“Do you know where you are?”

“...There was a house...it was empty...we hid…”

The warmth on my chest had sunk beneath the threshold of my perception, but its sudden absence is jarring. I hear a tiny whimper and icy fear grips me.

River…

“It’s okay, Princess. She’s here. They’re just keeping her warm.” A painfully bright flash makes my eyes water. I try to close my eyes, but they’re being held open. I push at the hand on my forehead.

“You’re doing really well, Alodia. Can you tell me how you got hurt?”

I fell...I slipped in the dark and I fell down a hill…

I’ve slipped under water. The rushing sound fills my ears and drowns out the voices. I’m in the darkness again. Bone tired and riding a gentle current. Then, flashes of sound and color. Flickering red light. Pressure on my hand.

“...born 42 minutes ago, full term…”

Pain, just a nagging sensation in the background a moment ago, rapidly floods my senses, and I choke on a cry.

“I gotcha, Princess. Just stay with me. I’m right here.”

“Placenta delivered twenty-three minutes ago, apparently complete...laceration on the lower back showing signs of infection…”

I try to roll away from the pain, into the dark and silent waters. But I’m not alone there anymore.

“Alodia,” my father says softly.

No. I can’t go with him. I have to stay with Jake.

“...Fever is 104°...Let’s get a saline drip going. TKO.”

“It’s okay, Alodia.” My father is no longer the ghost I knew on the island. His face is human, the way it was when I saw him in a vision months ago, before I even knew I was pregnant. The fear that grips me at the sight of his face is colder and more visceral than anything I think I have felt before.

No...please. Please don’t take me. Don’t take me back…

“I will not take you back. I don’t have that power. But nor do I have the power to save you. Not on my own. But I may be able to help, if you allow me.” His hands seem to enfold mine. “Trust me, daughter. Please. You must trust me.”

Trust him. As if I have a choice in the matter. I’m terrified and exhausted. Too exhausted to fight. I want to go home. I want to be gathered up and sheltered in a loving embrace. I remember the warmth of Ramona Soto’s arms around me when I was a child, tainted by the distance that formed between us when she turned her back on her son. Sometimes Aunt Molly was tender, too. But she isn’t who my heart aches for now. There’s a word forming in my mind as I look up at the strange face of the long-dead man hovering over me in the darkness. It’s a word that was never mine. But I want to surrender to it. I want to wrap myself up in the word and all the tender love that comes with it.

...Dad...Daddy...I’m scared...

Michelle

Our traveling party has been significantly reduced from when we arrived at the abandoned house, but we still have two rented vehicles that need to be taken back to Northbridge. Sean and I take one, while Estela and Rebecca take the other. We should probably be going home to get some sleep. I think that’s where Estela is going once she drops Rebecca off at the hospital. Back to Quinn, back to her brother and the other Catalysts, back to get everyone up to speed and wait for any more news. No doubt they’ll all be at the hospital at some point in the morning. But I can’t go home just yet. Even if I technically can’t help in any way, I have to be at the hospital with my friends. I don’t even need to ask if Sean feels the same. When I ask him if we should go straight to the hospital, I know the answer even before he nods grimly.

We’re silent as he drives, though he does periodically reach over without taking his eyes off the road to put his hand over mine on the armrest between us. I don’t mind. I’m stewing in the knowledge that Jake--and the rest of us--could easily lose Alodia in the next few days. I find it hard to object to my husband reminding me that he’s alive beside me.

I don’t really notice that he’s slowed down until he pulls over and stops on the shoulder of the road.

“Sean? What’s wrong?” I glance at the dashboard, trying to discern if there’s a mechanical problem. Sean hesitates for a moment before spreading his fingers and pressing his palms into the steering wheel.

“Look...feel free to tell me to piss off and keep driving, but...I would really like to kiss you right now.”

Worried and exhausted as I am, I can’t hold back a smile. “I wouldn’t mind a kiss right about now.”

We lean in and he takes my face in his hands as our mouths meet. I am a little surprised at how gentle he is being. I remember the way he kissed me for days after the showdown between Dragonness and Prescott, the fierce need in the way he pressed his mouth to mine. This is different. This is...more like the way he kissed me on our wedding day, just a few weeks ago. Tender. Loving. A kiss that makes me feel like we’re the only two people in the world.

“You’re kissing me like you love me,” I murmur.

“I do. I adore you. I don’t think I’ve ever been more in love with you than I am right now.”

“What makes you say that?”

He touches his forehead to mine. “...What I saw you do back there in that house…”

“Aww. Did seeing me delivering a baby make you sentimental?”

“Yeah. But it wasn’t just that. Alodia was sick. Diego was hurt. Alodia was having a baby. You were the only doctor there. But you were calm. You got help where you needed it. You made calm out of chaos.”

“...That’s my job, Sean. I’m a doctor. Doesn’t mean I wasn’t scared.”

“I know all that. Doesn’t make it less impressive. ...You’re a great doctor, Michelle. And hell, I’ll just say it: you’re my hero.”

I can’t help myself. I grin as I kiss him again. “You know, the only reason I’m not laughing at your corniness is because I know you mean it. Which just makes you more adorable.”

He keeps my face in his hands as he nuzzles my forehead with his. “...Do...do you think they’ll be okay?”

I swallow a bitter taste at the back of my throat. “...Diego should be fine, I think. The baby seems healthy. ...Alodia...it’s a little more uncertain.” I take his hands in mine, pulling back to meet his eyes in the light from the dashboard. “It will depend on how much the infection has spread, if it’s damaged any internal organs...whether there are any post-partum complications…”

He nods, squeezing my hands. “...I...guess we should get to the hospital. Be there for them.”

“Yeah…”

He releases my hands and turns his attention back to the car. He puts the gear shift back into drive and pulls away from the curb. We’re silent as he navigates the dark road ahead, and I don’t distract him by reaching over to stroke his arm or shoulder. But it doesn’t feel like we’re distant at all. Being beside him now, I feel as close to him as if I were in his arms without enough space between us for a hair to pass through.

Alodia

I don’t know how much time passes in the fog of light and noise and pain that I find myself dragged through. I am aware of things in bits and pieces. I don’t remember arriving at the hospital, but I find myself there, under harsh fluorescent lights, my nose assaulted by the sharp antiseptic odor. At some point, I realize River isn’t there, and I hear myself call out to her.

“It’s okay, Alodia,” Jake murmurs, his breath warm on my ear. “They’re just checking her over. They’ll bring her back to us soon.”

I’m cold. The air feels too close to my skin. I think I might be naked. I want to move to cover myself, but I am not sure where the surface is that’s supporting me, or whether I’m even upright or lying down. I do feel Jake’s arms around me, and I cling to him for dear life, even as I feel him gently manipulating my limbs.

“That’s it, Princess. Good girl. I gotcha. I’m right here.”

I open my eyes and find myself on a gurney, the filthy gray sweatshirt I had been wearing replaced by a thin hospital gown. Jake is still beside me, but now he’s wearing a mismatched set of scrubs. Pain flares in my spine, white-hot and intense enough to make my stomach turn. I hear myself make a noise like a wounded animal. I feel the pressure of Jake’s grip on my hand, and his cool fingers raking gently through my hair, soothing an intense itch that I hadn’t realized was there.

“Look at me, Alodia. Look at me.” His voice is gentle, but it brooks no argument. I force myself to meet his eyes. “That’s my girl. You’re doing great. Listen...this next part isn’t gonna be pleasant. You got a really nasty wound they gotta take care of, and you also had some tearing during delivery that they say is gonna need a couple stitches. They’re gonna numb you up so you won’t feel the worst of it, but that part ain’t gonna be a cakewalk, either.”

His words don’t help the sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. I feel my eyes burning. I’m scared. I’m so scared, and I’m so tired of being scared. It all must show on my face, because Jake’s mouth twists into a grimace as he brings my hand up to hold against the rough, days-old beard that darkens his cheek.

“I know, sweetheart. I know. But you can do this. I know you can. You’re the strongest, bravest person I’ve ever known.”

I can’t see my father just now, but I know he’s here. He’s hovering over me and Jake, equal parts a comforting, paternal presence and a frightening spectre I’m terrified has come to take me to whatever afterlife is waiting for me. I grip Jake’s hand.

“Don’t let me go.” My throat is so dry that it seems to chafe with the effort of speaking. The effort of drawing breath is rewarded with needling pain at scattered points on my torso. But Jake tightens his grip and bends to kiss my temple.

“I gotcha, Princess. I ain’t leaving.” The air around me shifts abruptly, and Jake’s grip on my hand tightens with anxiety. Something terrible is about to happen.

Sleep now, my daughter. It will be better if you sleep.

“Look at me, Alodia,” Jake says again. Again, I am compelled to obey, and I look into the depths of his clear blue eyes. “That’s it. Just keep your eyes on me. Don’t look anywhere else. Just look at me.”

But as the pain washes through me in a heady wave, I can’t help but break my gaze. I hear myself moan and Jake seems to press closer to me, even as the rest of the world is falling away again.

“I’m here. I’m here. I’m right here. Just stay with me…”

Grayson

My family has a luxury mountain cabin a little ways upstate. Dad hasn’t been there since Mom died, but once I was old enough to drive, I took over the upkeep and used it for my own private getaway. In college, I always had friends over to the cabin for spring break, and for summer parties. Tahira and Poppy were both frequent guests back then. I haven’t been back since before the gala that changed everything, but I keep it well maintained enough that when Tahira contacts me to ask if Caleb and his runaway children can stay there for a night, I don’t have any qualms about saying yes. Since everything is remotely connected, I am able to unlock the door and turn on the lights and the heat from my apartment. The local town doesn’t have a late-night grocery store, but I do put in an order for delivery from a nearby Chinese restaurant with instructions to leave it in the kitchen.

I don’t hear anything for a couple of hours, and in the meantime, I can’t sleep. I’m sitting up at my kitchen table with a mug of decaf when I hear the tapping at my balcony door. Tahira, in full Dragonness garb, waits for me on the balcony, squeezed into the shadow in the corner to avoid the beam of the outdoor lights. In a big city and a big apartment complex like this, one never knows who might be up late and watching, curious about who Dragonness is visiting at this hour. I flip off the outdoor light before I unlock the door and let her in.

I barely have the door open wide enough for her to slip through before she pounces on me, kissing furiously with her fingers raking through my hair. I push back, wrapping an arm around her waist as I stumble around to blindly push the door closed. I’ll worry about the latch in a minute. Right now, I am aware that my girlfriend is hovering an inch or so off the carpet as she presses her hips against me, one hand tugging at the belt of my bathrobe. My hands are at her back, groping for the mechanized clasp of her supersuit, but I resist tapping it just yet.

“Tahira… your wound. ...Is it safe to…?”

She hesitates, pulling back just a little. “I...think so…” But her feet sink into the carpet again as she presses her forehead to mine and reluctantly adds, “But maybe I should wait until a doctor clears me. I mean, it’s gotten a lot better...but I don’t know. I’ve never been stabbed before.”

I pull back enough to remove the mask from her eyes and brush the dark wisps of hair off her forehead. I lean in and kiss the spot between her eyebrows, then each eyelid in turn, the tip of her nose, and her mouth.

“...I missed you,” I murmur.

“I missed you, too. In case you couldn’t tell.”

I lace my fingers together at the small of her back. “Can I get you anything? Coffee? Tea? Water?”

“How about a shower and a change of clothes?”

“I’m set up for that, too. Actually did a load of some of your stuff just yesterday.”

She snorts lightly. “I’ve got enough clothes here for a load? Might as well be living here.”

“...Might as well be,” I murmur. “...But that’s a discussion probably best saved for later. Did Caleb and the kids get settled in okay?”

“Yeah. Hopefully they’re still there in the morning. I don’t know what we’ll do if they aren’t. Don’t know what we’ll do if they are, either.”

“We’ll come up with something. I promise. You’re the Hero of Northbridge, and I’m the son of the city’s most powerful billionaire captain of industry. Between us, there have to be some strings we can pull to keep the kids together and Caleb out of prison.”

“You’re basically the head of Prescott Industries now,” she points out. “And you’ve got a lot more goodwill than your father. ...I’m honestly less worried about how we’re going to keep the kids together than I am about the whole Caleb situation. I don’t just want him out of prison, I want him on the right side of the law. And that’s going to take a lot of compromise.”

“We’ll figure it out. For now, you need to rest.”

She sighs, wrapping her arms around me and letting her head fall onto my shoulder. “...Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. ...For what?”

“For not asking why I care what happens to Caleb.”

I kiss her hair, letting my cheek rest against her head. “I don’t have to ask why, Tahira. Even if I don’t know. I trust your instincts. If you think he’s worth caring about, I believe it.”

“...I hope my instincts aren’t wrong about him. Because I have a feeling I can’t shake that we’re going to need him on our side in the future.”

Diego

My arrival at the hospital is a whirlwind of doctors and nurses asking questions, taking pulse, temperature, and blood pressure, and sticking me here and there to collect blood samples, place an IV for fluids, and pump painkillers into the space between my shoulder joint and my arm bone before they attempt to put the two back together.

Having my dislocated shoulder put back in its socket is not the most pleasant experience, but it’s also not as bad as I would have anticipated, especially once the painkillers set in. I feel a little heady, but there’s no violent wrenching motion to force it back into place like they show in the movies. It’s a lot more slow and gentle. Having Varyyn there to hold my good hand goes a long way, too. I really haven’t thanked Dax enough for his Christmas present.

I don’t exactly feel the bone slip back into place the moment it happens, but I do feel the pain start to ebb away almost immediately, and exhale with relief. The doctor smiles down at me.

“Think that did it. How do you feel?”

“Waaay the heck better,” I reply languidly.

“That’s what we like to hear. I’m just going to get a sling on you, and send a nurse to take you to your bed. We’re gonna keep you overnight, just for observation, but I’m optimistic you’ll be discharged tomorrow.” He pauses a moment, glancing at Varyyn. “I know you two live out-of-state. Do you have friends in the area who could put you up for a night or two after discharge? I don’t want you to have to rush your travel plans to get home.”

“We have a number of friends in the area,” Varyyn confirms. “And we certainly won’t be going home before Alodia and her baby are discharged as well.”

“Alodia is our friend who came in with us,” I explain when it’s clear the name doesn’t ring a bell with the doctor. “Or probably a little before us. Alodia Chandler. She had a newborn baby. A little girl. ...She was hurt. A cut on her back that got infected.”

The doctor’s eyes flicker with a brief spark of recognition, and he nods. “Ahh. Of course. I remember her coming in.”

“Do you know where she is?” I ask anxiously. “Do you know if she’s okay?”

“I haven’t heard anything since she came in. But she and the baby would have been taken up to the mother and baby unit.”

“Would I be able to see her?”  

“Right now, you would be better off getting some rest.”

“That’ll be easier if I know what’s going on with my friend,” I point out. The doctor nods, reaching out to pat my good shoulder.

“Tell you what. As soon as I’m done here, I’ll see what I can find out. It’s quite likely she’s not ready for visitors herself yet, but would it help if I could get you an update?”

“Yeah, it would. Thanks.”

The doctor’s assurance is enough to keep me satisfied for a little while. I don’t badger the orderly who comes to take me to my room. It’s early morning by now, and the sunlight is streaming through the window. The orderly draws the curtains as I settle into bed. Varyyn sits down in a chair beside me and takes my good hand. When the orderly leaves, I roll my head to look at him.

“You’ll be more comfortable in the bed, you know.”

“...Is that permitted?”

I shrug. “Don’t know. At the moment, I don’t really care. If it’s not, we’ll stop when they tell us we have to stop. And I really want you to hold me right now.”

“I’m not very much inclined to argue. I want to hold you.”

He slips off his shoes and lies down beside me, holding me gently. I let my head rest on his shoulder. I feel safe in his arms. For a while, I can almost pretend that he and I are back in our bed in California. But I think the truth of where we really are and what’s really happening is pretty inescapable, because the dreams that take over once I’ve drifted off are anything but safe and peaceful. I wake up with every muscle in my body cramping around my thumping heart and the fading image of angry wasps droning around me. My own sharp gasp is already a vague memory as Varyyn’s soft lips brush my forehead and cheek.

“Shhh. You’re safe, my darling. I’m here.”

The sun is still up, but the light isn’t streaming through the window anymore. “How...how long was I…?”

“Only a few hours, my love.”

“Hours…? But...Allie. What did…?”

“The staff could not say much. But Sean and Michelle spoke to Jake. River is well and healthy. She is in a room with her parents.”

I want to smile at the thought. But the fact that Varyyn started with River’s condition is enough to tell me that her mother isn’t as well and healthy as she is. “Varyyn…”

Varyyn knows what I want him to tell me. He sighs, kissing my forehead. “Alodia’s wound has been treated. The tearing she sustained during delivery has been stitched. The infection is being treated with antibiotics. But...it is simply too early to tell if she will be alright.”

I gulp against the choking sensation in the back of my throat, biting my lip in an effort not to let out the anguished howl I can feel clawing its way up from my chest. I can’t stop the tears from dripping down my cheeks, but I am not going to wail like a banshee in the middle of a hospital.

“I should have gone for help,” I whisper when I can speak again. “I shouldn’t have waited. I should have gone when I knew she was sick…”

“That would have meant leaving her alone with enemies in pursuit when she could not defend herself. You did the best you could in an impossible situation.”

“She might die, Varyyn. River might never know her mother. Jake might lose his wife again…”

Varyyn kisses my cheek. “Diego, everyone knows how much you love her. No one doubts that you did everything in your power to protect her as best you could.”

I roll away from him as best as my injured shoulder will allow. I feel him withdraw just a little, feel his hesitation, and guilt pricks at me. He’s right. In my heart I know he’s right. But that knowledge isn’t enough to cut through the fear that encases me.

“...It won’t matter if she dies,” I say after a protracted silence. “...If she dies, it won’t matter how much I love her or if I did everything I could. She’ll still be dead.”

“Perhaps not. Not right away.” He hesitantly strokes my hair, and when I don’t pull away, he continues. “...But don’t bury her before she is gone. Hold onto hope as long as we have it.”

Alodia

I know that I am a ghost. But I don’t care. I’m home on La Huerta. The place where I was born. And for a moment, that is all I need. But then I see my friends. Jake, Sean, Craig, and Estela. All four are battered and bruised. Estela’s expression is stoically grim, but I know her well enough to see fear in her dark eyes. Sean and Craig are doing a worse job of hiding their anxiety, though they still seem to be holding it together. I guess they think they have to for Jake. Jake’s face is breaking my heart. He’s not crying just now, but his eyes are swollen and rimmed in red, and his face is splotched red with tears. He looks down as he walks, hunched and shaking like a terrified little boy.

Across from them are Diego, Varyyn, Michelle, and Raj. Diego breathes shallowly as he regards the other foursome.

“Where is Allie?” he asks, his voice low and trembling.

Sean answers the question, even though Diego is looking at Jake. Jake raises his eyes to meet Diego’s hard gaze, and there is guilt there. I don’t hear Sean explaining. But I know what he’s saying. They don’t know where I am. I fell from the chopper and they haven’t found me yet. Diego’s fear and grief burn into anger and he flies at Jake.

“You were supposed to take care of her! You let her die!”

Jake doesn’t fight back. He barely flinches to protect himself. Varyyn grabs his lover to hold him back.

“Diego! Diego, stop! She isn’t dead!”

I am, though. I want to tell Varyyn that I am. ...But I’m not. I’m standing at the Threshold, staring numbly down at the eleven graves. I look down at my hands. Wrinkled and papery, speckled with liver spots. But both of them flesh. I’m not the Endless. The Endless is in front of me.

“This is where we’re always going to end up,” she says mournfully. “This is the fate I cannot protect you from. It may be tomorrow, or it may be ninety years from now. But you will always live to see the last one die.”

“...They were protecting me.” I raise my eyes to meet her face. “...That’s what I’ve been seeing in my dreams. I watched them die to protect me.”

“You will always live to see the last one die.” She reaches out to cup my cheek in her good hand. “...Unless you die first…”

I can still feel her bony fingers against my cheek, but I am no longer at the Threshold. I recognize this place. I have danced on this stage for years. This is the stage at the performing arts center where my dance school’s showcases, workshops, and recitals have been held since I was a four-year-old ballerina, feeling like a princess in my shimmering purple tutu with a plastic tiara bobby-pinned to my head. It is familiar, but somehow wrong. Distorted. I shouldn’t be here, waiting in the wings like this. I haven’t been a student in years. I don’t know my choreography. I am in sweatpants, without dance shoes or stage makeup, and my hair is a tangled mess. And I am pregnant. I am sure of it. What other explanation could there be for the potbelly pushing against the waistband of my sweatpants, and the movement behind my navel? But even that feels wrong. Vague memories tell me that I am nearly ready to give birth, but my belly feels too small. The child’s movements are sharp and erratic.

But ready or not, I am pushed onto the stage. Harsh white lights turn the audience into a faceless dark sea that swims beyond the polished lip of the apron. Music floats up from beneath my feet. The Doll Dance. This is the Doll Dance. I have to push.

I don’t have time to question. My Catalysts are rushing in to surround me, all cradling shapeless bundles as they move through something that vaguely resembles the Doll Dance. I lie down on my back and open my legs.

“The doll is almost here!” Michelle sings from between my knees. Diego giggles, flitting between Jake and me, tapping us in turn.

“Daddy Ballerina, Mommy Ballerina!” He laughs wildly, and taps his own head. “Skinny Ballerina!”

Jake laughs with him, and taps my nose. “Princess Ballerina!” Then he and Diego laugh together, the sound morphing into a shrieking cackle as I feel a sudden emptiness in my belly.

“Baby Ballerina!” Michelle crows.

“Where is she?!” I hear myself cry. “Where is River?”

I can’t find her. I am on my feet, rushing around the stage, searching for the baby that was just torn bloodlessly out of me. The Catalysts plié right and left, shading their eyes as they search the darkness of the house.

“Where is River?” They sing in one voice. “Where is River?”

I can’t find her. I can’t find my baby.

“Oh me, oh my! Oh me, oh my!” The Catalysts jump from first position to second, scrubbing at their eyes.

I leap off the stage, into the house. I know where my baby is. The doors at the back of the house are open, and I can see the swaddled bundle in a cone of light at the end of the aisle. I scoop her up, and I feel my heart sink. The cloying face of a plastic baby doll peers up at me with unblinking eyes of blue glass, chubby plastic cheeks tinged red, lips permanently parted in a toothless, saccharine smile...

I’m going to be sick. No sooner have I realized this than there is a bowl under my jaw, and an unfamiliar pair of arms wrapped around my chest from behind, holding me upright. I want to fight their grip, but painful spasms wrenching through my midsection distract me from any potential escape attempts. A sour-tasting wave of liquid fire bubbles up my throat and sloshes out from between my lips.

“You’re okay, Princess. Just let it all up.”

“J-Jake…?” I croak weakly, barely able to raise my eyes to his face before another acid wave splashes into the bowl.

“Shhhhh. I’m right here. Everything’s okay.”

Everything is clearly not okay. But I don’t have the strength to worry about more than emptying my stomach right now. When that’s done, I sink limply back onto the pillow, shivering as Jake dabs at my forehead with a sponge.

“Here…” I open my eyes as I feel something poking at my lips and find a straw. “Have a little water.”

I obediently close my lips around the straw and take a few cautious sips as I take stock of myself. I hurt. That much I realize right away. My back and between my legs are the worst of it, but most of me aches like I had every muscle in my body clenched at the same time. I know where I am, even before I realize that the unfamiliar arms that held me up belong to a nurse. A few gaps aside, I know what happened before I arrived at the hospital. But there is an image in my mind of a plastic doll swaddled in my arms.

“R-River...Jake, where…?”

“She’s here, Princess.” I hear his voice catch, and I manage to look up at him to see a shaky smile on his lips. “...She’s perfect…”

“C-can I see her?”

“Of course. Doctor says you might even be able to feed her later if you were up to it.”

Jake looks somewhere to his side, and I crane my neck to follow his gaze. I can just about make out the bassinet at the end of the room, and the nurse bending over to carefully collect the yellow-swaddled contents. For a moment, my stomach lurches again. I’m not entirely convinced that the nurse is not about to hand me a plastic doll. But then the bundle squirms and whimpers. The nurse passes the bundle to Jake, who gently places our daughter beside me on the bed, keeping his hands on her for support.

The chubby face that peeks out from a cocoon of yellow blanket and a pink crocheted hat is no plastic doll’s face. She’s been cleaned since she was born, but her little face is still rosy over a warm complexion. Above a pudgy little chin, tiny pink lips are drawn into a pout that shows off their perfect cupid’s bow. Her round little nose wrinkles as if she smells something foul and her eyes are puffy around the edges. But then her eyes open, blue as sapphires, and her gaze cuts through the feverish haze the clouds my head. I carefully place a shaking hand on her chest, stroking her lightly through the blanket.

“Hello, River Skye McKenzie,” I murmur. I feel the corners of my mouth lifting into a feeble smile. “Aren’t you the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen…”

“She’s an angel,” Jake agrees. “Here, take a look at this.” He gently pulls off her little crocheted cap, revealing a fine layer of downy chestnut hair. I bite my lip, feeling tears pooling in my eyes.

“...How did we live so long without her?”

“The same way we lived without each other: incompletely.”

I raise my eyes to his face. Something cold has begun to thread through my veins. “...Jake...is she real?”

Jake’s expression falters just for a moment. “Of course she’s real, Princess.”

“I...I think I was dreaming. ...I found my baby, but she was just a doll…”

Jake’s face softens as he brings up a hand to stroke my hair. “It was just a dream.”

“...I’m afraid of my dreams. I’m afraid to go to sleep again. I’m afraid that when I wake up, she will be gone…”

“I won’t let her disappear.”

“...What if you’re gone, too?”

He presses his lips to my forehead, holding them there for a long moment. Long enough for me to realize how much his breath is shaking. When he pulls back to smile at me, his eyes sparkle.

“Then I’ll fight until I’m at your side again. Isn’t that what we do, Princess? They pull us apart, and we fight like hell until we’re back together?”

Even heady with fever as I still am, I hear the catch of desperation in his voice, the pleading note under his fierce words. He is as scared as I am. He is scared that he is watching me fade. He is scared that he’s watching me die.

...I will live to see the last one die. Unless I die first.

Aleister

How to describe the moment when I see my wife descending Castor’s boarding stairs. I hear myself speak her name, but it comes out as a gasp as I start toward her. The moment her foot hits the tarmac, she breaks into a run, arms outstretched. We meet in a small collision, arms closing around one another in vise-like grips. I feel my throat tighten as I rest my cheek on the top of her head, savoring the familiar texture of her narrow braids on my skin, and the sweet scent of her honeysuckle lotion. It has not been two days since last I saw her, but it feels like a lifetime. From the strength of her grip, I can tell she feels the same.

“...You didn’t bring Reggie…?” she asks after a moment.

“He’s at home with Estela and Quinn. I am fairly certain that looking after him is all that is keeping Estela from getting herself arrested for disorderly conduct by marching down to the police station to threaten those cunts who attacked Alodia and Diego at the abandoned house.”

I feel Grace pause for a moment. “...That’s strong language for you, honey.”

“...Can we agree that I am justified under the circumstances?”

“Absolutely. ...How are they?”

“Diego has a dislocated shoulder, but he should heal. Thus far, it also seems that the baby is well and healthy. Alodia is being treated, but it is simply too soon to know how she will respond.”

“...I think she will be fine,” Grace says decidedly. “She knows how much she’s needed. She won’t let a little infection beat her.”

“I sincerely hope you are right.” I keep an arm over her shoulders as I begin to steer us toward the car. “...I don’t suppose you learned anything of interest from your mother? Anything about where Father was planning to take them, or what he intended to do with them? Even if...when...Alodia recovers, this is far from over.”

“...I did learn a few things,” she confirms, though she waits until we are in the car to continue. “She has reason to believe Rourke has a base in the Greek Islands. Specifically Ithaca.”

I can’t help rolling my eyes. “Of course it would be Ithaca,” I mutter.

“But that’s not all. Aleister, I think Yvonne is alive.”

Jake

The minutes and hours melt into each other while my wife is sick. The world tunnels and fills with static at the edges. All I can focus on is her. My princess. My princess and the little angel in the bassinet at the foot of her bed. I almost never don’t have one of them in my arms. Except when Rebecca or Michelle or my mother force me to get some sleep on the couch. I don’t generally fight them on it. One of the advantages to Alodia being in a maternity suite is that the couch is in the same room, a feature that surely exists for anxious partners waiting out a long labor.

I don’t know exactly when my mother and father arrived with Alodia’s aunt and uncle, Diego’s parents, and Raj. I know it was sometime after Alodia gave River her first feeding. It was mostly successful. Lots of pillows and my hands helped to keep River safe and supported, even with her mother feeling as weak as she is. I helped the nurse bathe her in a process that seemed like a compromise between a sponge bath in bed and a full shower, with Alodia seated on the shower seat while I helped wipe her down and rub dry shampoo into her hair. By the time that was done, the fever seemed to have sapped her strength again because I almost had to carry her back to bed. By the time her bandage had been changed, she’d slipped back into a fitful sleep. She hadn’t awakened yet when the anxious faces of our families appeared in the doorway.

I don’t really like all our folks being here. I don’t like the way Alodia’s aunt and uncle are hovering over her bed like loving parents, kissing her hands and stroking her hair. I like it even less when Diego’s parents do it--especially because I know from Raj that they’ve been decidedly cool to their own son since meeting his husband. I don’t even like the way my own parents are hovering right now, trying to help me with River. I don’t want help with River. Not yet. I don’t really want anyone but me and Alodia touching her right now. Somehow, letting someone else change her diaper or rock her to sleep makes me feel like I’m letting Alodia’s nightmares come true. Like somehow letting someone else touch her will turn her into the doll Alodia dreamed she was.

...I know it’s irrational. Especially because I don’t feel the same fear when one of the Catalysts offers their help. Knowing that it’s irrational doesn’t stop me from feeling the fear. A part of me feels guilty for it. But the fear holds on.

At some point after drifting into a doze on the couch, I hear familiar voices over my head. I’m not sure if I’m mostly awake or if I’m deep asleep and dreaming when I hear them, but I know the voices, and their words are clear.  

“If the worst happens,” Diego says softly, “...will he have it in him to look after her?”

“Of course he will,” Rebecca replies. “He’ll need her more than ever.”

“...I watched my best friend grow up knowing she wasn’t wanted by the people who were raising her. People who took her in because they didn’t want to lose the last piece of her mother that they had. ...I don’t want to watch the same thing happen to her daughter.”

“Diego. Trust me. If the worst happens, River will be what keeps him alive.”

By the time I come fully awake, Diego and Rebecca are gone, replaced by Molly and Rob. Both Alodia and River are asleep. Molly sits at Alodia’s bedside stroking her arm, while Rob stares stoically out the window with his arms folded. Both of them melt into the scenery as I approach my wife and take hold of her hand. No matter how many people are around us, when I hold her hand, it’s just me and her. I sink into the chair, gripping her hand in both of mine and kissing her fingers.

“Stay with me, Princess,” I whisper. My chest is tight. I feel like it’s been tight for ages. I feel like I’ll never breathe free again, but I know I will if only she gets better. “You’re doing great, Alodia. Just hold on. Just keep fighting. Please...I...I can’t lose you again…”

“No one is going to lose Alodia,” Rob mutters. The reminder of his presence sends irritation threading through me, but I let it go.

“She’s a fighter,” Molly agrees. “She always has been.”

“She’s going to bury us all,” Rob adds with conviction. Now I properly grimace. It’s all I can do not to deck him. Instead, I press my lips hard to my wife’s fingertips, screwing my eyes shut as I exhale to a count of ten.

“Do me a favor,” I growl without looking at him. “Never say that in front of me, or her, or any of our friends.”

“...I...what? ...Why?”

“...If you’d been on the island, you’d understand. You just gotta trust me on this one.” I give Alodia’s hand another kiss and stand up, moving to gaze down at my daughter, sleeping peacefully in her bassinet. I reach down to stroke the back of her tiny hand, soft and delicate as a rose petal.

I’ll never leave you, Angel. It’s a silent promise, but I mean it with all my heart. No matter what happens, I’ll always be here for you.

Slowly, though, the cloud of fear and uncertainty hanging over my family begins to dissipate as modern medicine starts to do its job. Alodia’s fever starts to dwindle. And three days after the birth of our child, it breaks.

[fbfh]

Light Up the Dark - [IV] Leo x reader

genre: romance + action + enemies to lovers kinda

word count: 2k

au: none

pairing: Leo x gothy!child of eros!fem reader

requested: nah

warnings: MAJOR SPOILERS FOR HEROES OF OLYMPUS!!, normal reader being mean lol, mentions of abandonment issues, a breakup over skype call basically, reader uses  seduction powers for fun and profit, i think that’s it

summary: You pull some strings to get a hotel room and some cash, the boys get to know you a little better, and you overhear something you probably shouldn’t have.

listen to: bad liar - imagine dragons

a/n: since the reader is a daughter of Eros, the characters are aged to 18+ idk i think i forgot to put that on the other chapters lol 

also requests r open uwu

“What do you mean she’s not coming?” Leo asks, all the bad feelings quickly overtaking him. 

“She said she wanted to sight see more, and that she’d meet us back at camp in a few days,” Jason says, trying to break the news as gently as possible, “I’m sorry, Leo.”

He bit back his heartache.

“Yeah, it’s…” 

The door creaks and their heads turn to you, exiting the front door. 

“Who’s driving?” you ask.

“Jason,” Leo replies. You open the passenger side door, gently place the coffin shaped box on the seat, and buckle it in. You can feel their inquisitive eyes on you, and you counter with a blank, resolute look of your own.

“This one’s special.” 

You notice Leo seems… off. His whole mood seems to have plummeted. Leo reminds you of a buoy. Even in the worst storms, even if he gets caught under a huge wave, he always comes back to the surface. Based on his current vibe, someone nuked the buoy. Wheels turn in your head, and you hand him the trout mailbox. 

“Could you put this in the back?” you direct your words at him, hoping the heat flushing to his cheeks would distract him from whatever made him upset. His hand brushes yours and you can almost feel his heart spasm. You make eye contact at him through your thick, dark eyelashes and he almost chokes. He agrees and you pull Jason aside. 

“What happened?” you hiss. 

“What?” he whispers back.

“What did you tell him to make him all lame?”

“Oh, uh…” he rubs the back of his neck and you shake your head, waiting for an answer, “Calypso’s… not coming back with us.”  You wait in silence for him to keep talking. 

“She said she wanted to see the world more, and she’d meet us back at camp in a few days.” You process this for a second.

“So he’s-” you catch movement out of the corner of your eye, “driving?” you ask Leo, who just came back from the trunk.

“Jason, I mean.” you clarify. He confirms, and you all get in the car - Jason up front, you and Leo in the back. You reach into your bag and hand Jason a cd that says ’fun sad angry music :)’. He stares at you through the rear view mirror. You stare back. You sip your coffee. 

“Well?” you ask, “Are you going to put it in the player or eat it?” His eyes dart to Leo’s. “She gets to choose the music,” he explains. Jason mutters in agreement and fumbles the disk into the slot. A smile spreads on your face as the music plays and he starts to drive. 

Leo watches you as you nod your head and mouth the lyrics. He can tell you love this song. You vibe to the music for a minute before glancing over at Leo. He realizes he’s been staring when you give him an expectant look.

“What.” you ask. 

“Uh, this song is really good,” interest tints your face, and he’s relieved he recovered okay, “what’s it called?” You’re a little surprised he likes it.

“Mr. Doctor Man by Palaye Royale.” You two enjoy the music in silence, Jason focused on the road and GPS directions. A minute later, your curiosity starts to get the better of you. “How far is it?” 

“Not far, a couple hours.” Leo replies.

“Is everyone there all… campfire songs and friendship bracelets? Cause I’ve never been like, a summer camp person,” your eyes flick to the side towards him for a moment, and he can tell you’re listening closely. He smiles a little. 

“So what kind of person are you?”

“I’m more of a… cult documentaries and obscure unsettling 1960’s Czech animations type.” He’d never heard the words “1960’s Czech animations” sound so hot. 

“What about you?”

He paused for a minute. Part of him was deciding how to respond, and the other part was just flattered giggling that she had asked him back. You talk for the next hour or two, Jason chiming in periodically, until he points out that it’s getting dark and you should find somewhere to stay for the night. 

“Okay,” you reply, “pull over at the next truck stop.” 

They’re a little confused, but Jason complies and pulls over at the next gas station/convenience store you come across. They watch you get out of the car without a word and walk into the store. You approach a guy near a soda display. He has on a fedora and a shirt with a kids video game logo on it. He stares at you absolutely transfixed. They can’t hear what you’re saying, but he has a dopey grin on his face and nods his head a lot. Your hand touches his arm gently, and he laughs so loudly (and nervously) they hear it from the car. 

“Do I look that dumb around her?” Leo asks. 

You tilt your head and he blushes and nods again. He hands you something and a second later, you two walk to the counter. The cashier looks up startled, and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. She stares at you for a second, then says something and fumbles with a cellphone you hand her. She hands you a paper a few seconds later. You give the guy his phone back. He walks to an ATM at the corner of the store. He walks over to you, but you’re in front of a display so they can’t see anything until you come back out. You get back in the car and hand Jason a piece of paper and a wad of cash.

“Got us a room at a Best Western like, ten minutes away. And some cash.” 

They stare at you in silence. You lean toward Jason. 

“The room is under your name, Kevin Grossman.” Leo bites back a laugh. 

You finally get to the hotel, and Jason flips on his turn signal to get into the parking lot. “Park at the Walmart over there,” you point a block or two up, “under a light.” He turns his blinker off. 

“Walmart doesn’t care if you park overnight. If someone sees our car at the parking lot of a hotel, we’re just leaving a target on our backs.” you explain. They don’t say anything. 

“You said monsters are after us, right?” 

“Yeah,” Leo said, “good thinking.” Jason agreed and you exit the car, remembering to grab the duffle bag with your clothes and other essentials. You all walk across the street to the hotel. You talk your way through checking in pretty easily. When the hostess asks to see your in app registry you hand her the printed ticket. “His phone died.” you say simply. The three of you are about to head up to your room, when you turn back to reception. You hesitate for a second, before leaning in to the receptionist.

“Can you put us as unlisted?” you ask quietly. 

“Of course,” she replies sincerely, “let me know if you need anything.”

On the way up to your room, you tell Jason and Leo that if anyone asks, you’re not here. They seem impressed. Your room has a small seating area with a couch, coffee table, coat rack, and a phone. Past the half wall are three beds, a desk, a TV, and a doorway you figure leads to the bathroom. You walk into the bathroom and touch the mirror. You notice the space between your finger and reflection, and move on. You call to Leo to turn off the lights. He and Jason share a look. You may be a little weird, and incredibly intimidating, but you haven’t steered them wrong yet. Leo hits the lights, and you said quietly, “Listen for any weird buzzing or beeping noises, and look out for any out of place lights,” you creep around the room very quietly. After a minute you turn the lights back on and look at the ceiling.

“What was that about?” Jason asks.

“Bugs,” you reply, not looking at him, “and not the fun kind,” you mutter. 

“Jason, can you reach that?” you point up at the smoke detector. He looked between you and the device on the ceiling. 

“Don’t think so.” You looked between him and Leo. Your head might hit the ceiling if you Jason gave you a boost, but you could probably access it fine with Leo’s help. 

“Leo,” you said, and he looked up from the wires he was fiddling with, “give me boost,” your gaze not leaving the smoke detector. He agrees, and you get up onto his shoulders. His hands rest just above your knees, and it takes all his focus to not burst into flames. You pop off the cover.

“This doesn’t look weird, right?” you ask him. He looks up and back at your face, hair angled down, and is reminded of the Spiderman kiss. He pushes away the thought and examines the smoke detector. 

“About as non-weird as a smoke detector can look,” he confirms, and helps you down. He’s incredibly impressed that you thought to look for bugs - even he hadn’t thought of that, and he’s a son of Hephaestus. 

“Where did you learn this stuff? The parking lot, being unlisted, checking for bugs?” You half exhale half scoff.

“When almost everyone in a five mile radius constantly wants to get in your pants, they can get… pushy… so you learn some stuff.” You grab your pajamas from your bag and head toward the bathroom. Leo and Jason meet eyes. It made more sense now, why you were always so intimidating. If he got constant unwanted attention, Leo would get pretty prickly, too. 

Once everyone had showered and gotten ready for bed, Jason pointed out someone should IM Chiron, but you were way too tired, and collectively agreed to update him in the morning. 

Right as he’s about to fall asleep, Leo feels like someone’s watching him. He opens his eyes, and sees Calypso’s face. His heart lurches. He pushes himself out of bed and sees the shimmery edges of the iris message. She opens her mouth and he holds a finger to his lips. He moves over to the couch, so he doesn’t wake the others. He sits down nervously.

“Hey, sunshine… I really miss you, what’s-” 

“Look, Leo, I… I can’t do this.” 

His stomach drops. 

He knows what’s happening. He had it coming, he knew that. He knew that this was probably inevitable. Still, that didn’t make it hurt any less. He tries to sputter out something, anything. Why, what, can he do anything to fix this, but he’s too choked up. 

“I need a break from this, from us…” she continues, “there’s so much of the world I haven’t seen yet, and you have your projects… I don’t want to hold myself back because I feel bad that you’re not with me. I want to experience everything.” He feels like he’s falling forward. His eyebrows knit and an unstoppable rush of memories of everyone who’s left him or kicked him out comes flooding back. 

“Calypso,” his voice cracks. He can’t finish the sentence. 

You wake up from the light sleep you had settled into, aware of an unfamiliar voice. You get up, throwing on the short black robe over your pajamas - despite their velvet material, the loose cami and shorts don’t provide much warmth. You tiptoe over to the seating area. Leo’s on the couch, staring at the floor. You walk up behind him and place a hand on his shoulder. 

“You okay?” you ask, your voice foggy with sleep. 

“Who-” you briefly see the unfamiliar voice is coming from a shimmery image of a pissed off girl floating in front of him, but he quickly swipes his hand through, and the image vanishes. He rubs his eyes and his hands come away damp. You stay quiet. You don’t want to make him feel worse. 

“Long day,” he mutters. He stands up and says goodnight without looking at you. You watch him get into bed, and you do the same. Even if you knew what was wrong, there wasn’t much you could do this late at night. You hope some rest makes him feel better, and tell yourself it’ll be dealt with in the morning. 

Maybe over coffee. 

You could use some coffee.

[sonicringbond]

Sonic Ring Bond: The Journey - Scene 38

I wrote this scene at the beginning of the month, and based on everyone’s feedback was presented with quite the challenge. So much so I ended up asking the ever wonderful @cutegirlmayra​ for help. Naturally she delivered, but I’ll let all of you decide if I did in...

    ~Blister the Mouse. She’s really nice, and you’re probably wondering who I’m talking about, tee-hee~♥

    ~Anyway, while Sonic, Draw, and me were in the big plaza, a mouse lady who’s even smaller than Draw greeted us. Like us, she was interested in the big crystal rose in the middle of the plaza surrounded by the weird clockwork gizmo. It looked just like the one from my dream before I ended up with a Red Star Ring in my eye. It also made me think of the one that Ix collected when I first met him. I wonder what they are and where they come from. Blister doesn’t know either, but she wants to learn more about them, and well, Sonic has decided to hear out her offer, even though she’s not necessarily as nice as she seems.~

    “I don’t trust her, “Draw stated flatly as he crossed his arms and looked across a table of what could best be described as a hall-side bistro. The internal halls of the moving castle were as much streets as the paths on the outside. It was perhaps comparable to a shopping mall, in the form of the largest castle in history.

    The mouse, Blister, was rather much the opposite. Perhaps not even half of Sonic’s height, it seemed unlikely that the little sapient mouse woman could hold the pack of goods on her back that was larger than Sonic by quite a bit. Her white fur fell into her round blue eyes as it bundled up into a curly mane atop her head. She smiled comfortably as she responded to Draw’s bluntness in an almost sleepy sounding, deliberate and playfully, teasing manner.

    “Understandable,” Blister nodded agreeably. Tugging at the long sleeve of the white blouse like dress she wore under her blue poncho, she brought attention to the symbol on her sleeve. Like the one Rosy believed to be the Engineers, it was a wrench laid over a gear wheel. It differed though in that it was two wrenches forming an “X” under a human skull. “I am a pirate after all. Not a remarkably successful one though. I’m a far better merchant than I am a pirate.”

    “Then you should focus on that!” Rosy implored the mouse who simply smiled at her.

    “Well, my best wares I barter for from other pirates. And as a pirate no one questions me when I go looking in old ruin for even more wares. Though I’m not particularly good at that either.”

     Pulling her left arm away from her sleeve, she flexed the simple flat fingers of the clockwork hand that emerged from her other sleeve. Watching her hand, Sonic spoke up as he leaned back in his chair. “And that’s where we come in, right?”

    “Well, it’s not like you’re unknowns either,” Blister smiled assuredly. Reaching under her poncho she fished around a moment and pulled out a photograph, one identical to the one that Rosy kept in the shoulder puff of her leotard. In it was Sonic, Tails, Rosy, Mighty, Zooey, and Fang. Blister did not leave it face up however and turned it over to show the handwritten message on it from a Ring Thief named Mach Frog Gill Bradley. Rosy had read it before on the back of the photograph she carried and puffed her cheeks up in frustration.

    “I thought it was sheer chance that I found one that Gill left a message for me on. Ooh~! Not only has he caused me all sorts of trouble, but he made a bunch of copies too!”

    “A whole lot,” Blister agreed spreading her arms wide to illustrate. “And your affiliation with him and running out on the Engineers has made you an enemy of them. I’m surprised they let you in here, no less near the Rose. They say it’s the heart of an ancient type of golem known as a ‘war god’. The Engineers have been studying it and I’m curious about it too. But I can never have enough time to study it before the guards chase me away.”

    “So, what do we get if we lend you hand?”

    “Sonic!” Rosy admonished Sonic. “I know she asked for help and that we should give her a chance, but shouldn’t we address that she’s a pirate, and openly proud of it!”

    “It’s not like the Engineers dislike pirates. Ring Thieves and the Preservers are bigger threats to them. Like you’re friend Gill.”

    Rosy had no argument for that and puffed up her cheeks irritably. Blister though smiled as she flipped the photograph over again. “But I can help you find your friends. As a pirate and a merchant, I’m good with getting information. And looking at this picture, I think you’ll enjoy what I have in mind... Ms. Rose was it?”

    “Rosy!”

    ~Ooh~! I’ve really been suckered in now. But Sonic didn’t seem to be bothered by Blister being a pirate. I mean she seems nice enough, and it’s hard to think she could hurt anyone as tiny as she is. And it isn’t like she was just offering to help us find our friends. Her familiarity with the crystal rose and machines made Sonic ask her about my eye, and it even changed for her to see it. It was too convenient, but she promised if she learned anything about the crystal rose that related to it, she would let us know. That meant we had to help her.

    ~Helping her didn’t require much though. The big indoor plaza where the crystal rose was hosted a dance event almost every night. The blue glow of the crystal rose under the stars above made for a magical dance hall. Music played across a radio system in the castle and everyone generally enjoyed themselves. All we had to do was join the dancers and make a big scene. Draw thought Blister meant a commotion, but Sonic had a better idea!

    ~I bet you didn’t know that Sonic can really dance! And I mean really dance! No one could stop from watching him! It’s almost enough to make me feel jealous, tee-hee~♥ But I don’t need to since I know Sonic and I are destined for each other. Even the stars above and beyond Yolk say so. But well, Sonic doesn’t like anything that’s slow, so when the music slowed down, it was a big disaster. Especially as couples started pairing up to slow dance. It turned out the crystal rose was also a place where lovers confessed their feeling to each other. It was so romantic.

    ~Sonic wanted out of there in a hurry, but Blister signaled that she wasn’t done yet when I looked over. That meant I was going to have to make Sonic keep his promise, though Draw didn’t seem to like me taking Sonic’s hand suddenly and leaning my head into his chest. It was so warm, and his heartbeat so comforting.~

    “Awagh!” Draw blubbered incoherently while waving his arms about. “Mote! What do I do!”

    The yellow fairy looked at Draw a moment before turning its eyes towards where Blister still moved about the mansion sized crystal rose and the clockwork device that housed it. She was in plain sight, and unquestionably the guards would spot her if there was not a sufficient distraction. Rosy not dancing as a named enemy of the Engineers would surely not end well for Blister, leaving Mote to look at Draw helplessly.

    “You’re the one who told me to keep him away from her! Now you’re going to act like this!”

    Draw was not alone in having problems. A slow dance was the last thing Sonic wanted to partake in and Rosy was hard pressed to get him started. But she knew she had to try, and somehow, she felt she was getting a lending hand from an unexpected place.

    “Come on Sonic,” Rosy whined playfully as she pulled on his hand and attempted to move him from where he stood. “It’s not that bad.”

    “It’s not my thing, kid,” Sonic looked away from Rosy as she again tried to pull him in a different direction.

    “It’s Rosy! And I know, it’s slow, and it’s not exciting,” Rosy sympathized, “but you dance so well, and it keeps everyone watching us without causing any trouble. Well, maybe a little. I want to keep you all for myself right now, but I have to share, tee-hee~♥”

    Rosy looked down as she giggled and let her arms fall, though she did not let go of Sonic’s hand as she stepped in closer to him. Sonic looked down at her and sighed as she rested her head on his left shoulder. “You know I’m not yours to keep.”

    “I know,” Rosy acknowledged, though her playful tone of voice made Sonic quietly question her sincerity. But she wasn’t done talking yet and remained every bit as playful as she tried to step behind him while pulling on his arm still. Naturally, Sonic had to turn to keep an eye on her, and Rosy did her best to hide her smile and her face. “So~, what if I could make a slow dance exciting?”

    “And how would you do that?”

    “Easy,” Rosy answered slyly as she tilted her head back up just enough to look at Sonic with her left eye, the iris of which had again taken on the form of the unique Red Star Ring which crumbled at two points and revealed a gear within. More importantly however, the glow that all Rings typically cast, though red in color as to be expected. “Blister said that if this is a machine that the Engineers would want to study it. And since I’m a bad guy to them for some reason, they won’t stop from stooping below hurting me.”

    “Like I’d let them,” Sonic assured her, though his voice took on a steely defensive chill. Rosy couldn’t hide her smile and Sonic felt for a moment he was being made fun of. He couldn’t let that stand as Rosy recklessly stepped further out behind him to where her eye might be seen by more than him.

    “And what is it with you and eyes causing all sorts of trouble?”

    “Wha…?” Rosy asked curiously and paused a moment as she looked up at Sonic, allowing him to step into her and hide her eye from the throngs of dancers. “What do you mean?”

    “You don’t remember?” Sonic asked playfully and Rosy puffed her cheeks up not liking Sonic’s teasing of her memories. The lands they were in somehow seemed to steal or repress them and remembering anything over large periods of time was difficult. Even telling time over more than a few days at a time was difficult. To the people of the lands, it was normal, and they did not even see it as unusual, but to Rosy who cherished her memories it was upsetting. Even despite how much she did still hold on to while she smiled through it all.

    “Well, you were pretty adamant about how these Gaia Eyes that were like the Chaos Emeralds were asking you for help,” Sonic clarified as he stepped after Rosy when she went to move away from him. “Kind of funny though telling you a story you wanted to tell me.”

    “I don’t mind,” Rosy admitted as she stepped back in towards Sonic. “I can listen to your stories of adventure all day and night, no matter where we are. Even if it’s just you embellishing one of mine.

    “Besides,” Rosy smiled slyly at Sonic, “I bet it would make it easier for you to keep dancing without paying attention to what you’re doing.”

    There was no response from Sonic. Nothing audible at least. His mouth fell open ever so slightly, and there was just a hint of his eyes widening.

    He hadn’t even noticed. The conversation was natural. Rosy pulling him to and fro no less commonplace. But without him even noticing, she had been dancing with him the whole time and he had fallen into step.

    Moving his eyes, he looked down into hers, and past the Red Star Ring at the hedgehog girl who loved him with everything she had. Even knowing he would hate slow dancing, she had found a way to make even a few steps of it enjoyable. A little banter, a recalling of adventure, and just constantly being there knowing him and letting him be himself. He looked into her very being and perhaps, a tiny bit marveled at the side of her he ran from so much.

    And Rosy noticed Sonic looking into her eyes. She felt as though her heart stopped and that she could not breathe. Her feet kept moving in tune to the music though, Sonic now leading the dance as though to reward her affections. Slowly she blinked.

    Once.

    Twice.

    Still Sonic looked into her eyes, as though he was trying to find something in them, or perhaps that he finally recognized something there all along.

    ~It had to be all in my head, but… but, Sonic had never looked at me like this before. And it wasn’t a joke. His eyes were so serious, and curious. I think my heart reached him this time.

    ~And he knew. He had to. I always told him, but maybe. Maybe this time I won a little piece of his too…~

    The music did not stop, but Rosy did and she took a deep breath. Sonic was confused, but not as much as he was when Rosy lifted herself up with her toes, just enough to rub her nose against his.

    And there was an explosion.

    Sonic had no words for it. He was speechless, and Rosy had already pulled away. Her face was buried in her hands and there was a jubilant squeal that trailed off through the crowds as the little rascal had stolen something, or perhaps given something for the first time. Sonic couldn’t be sure. All he knew was that she was gone already, and that he had never wanted to scratch the tip of his nose so badly. But there was a still calm in him that kept him from relieving his nose of the torments of Rosy’s conquest. And as Sonic stood there watching where Rosy had dashed off, he might have for a moment feared that calm, desperately wanting anything to chase it away.

    “Wh-wh-what is that expression!” Draw asked flabbergasted at Sonic’s stillness. It was not Mote who answered him though, but rather Blister who pulled the koala’s hand down with her tail.

    “You’re too young,” the mouse squelched his question. “And looking at him, maybe he is too. How slow the hearts of boys grow.”

    “What does that mean!”

    “Nothing you need to worry about,” Blister answered obviously amused as she walked away.

    “And where are you going? You’re done, right?”

    “I sure am. But I think those two need some time to settle down. Don’t worry, they’re both too young yet for this to last. And I’ll be distracting all of you with plenty of adventures too. I may even want to learn more about all of you, and maybe see the flowers bloom too!”

Scene 38 · CLEARED Castle Rose, End

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😊💕 Huge SonAmy moment! Or at least for me it was 😁 Again a huge thank you to @cutegirlmayra​ for all of her help. Her experience and knowledge definitely allowed this scene to shine and i am so grateful! Thank you!

And I hope everyone enjoyed the scene, especially all the SonAmy fans. But that wasn’t all there was to this to scene. I also introduced my next recurring OC; Blister the Mouse. She should be an interesting one for me to learn to really write and get a feel for. Relaxed deliberate characters like her are not the type of characters I normally work with. But she’ll be an asset to everyone as the story continues, though how much is always in everyone’s hands as much as mine. Survey’s prompts, suggestions, these are all things that can affect her part in the story.

I hope everyone will enjoy Blister and will look forward to the first scene of February. Thank you!

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Scene and Character Character Consultant - @cutegirlmayra​ Special Thanks to Cutegirlmayra Story by @JoshTarwater/SonicFanJ Inspiring Song – ナラタージュinstrumental - Instrumental – Adieu – Narratage

Fair Use Disclaimer

Sonic the Hedgehog and all affiliated characters and logos are the express property and Copyright© of SEGA SAMMY HOLDINGS used without permission under Title 17 U.S.C Section 107 of the Copyright Act 1976 in which allowance is made for “fair use” for purposes such as criticism, comment, news reporting, teaching, scholarship, and research. “Fair use” is use permitted by copyright statute that might otherwise be considered copyright infringement. The Sonic Ring Bond: The Journey alternate universe (AU) consumer written work of fiction is a non-profit transformative work primarily for personal use and can and will be taken down without warning or prior notice at the request of the copyright holder(s) should it not be recognized under “fair use”.

*Sonic Ring Bond logo created by DEE Art – twitter.com/daryliscute.

Sonic Ring Bond AU and Sonic Ring Bond: The Journey are the creation of Joshua David Tarwater/ynymbus/sonicfanj/@Joshtarwater and is to be, including all contents herein considered for all legal purposes the property of the Sonic the Hedgehog intellectual property (IP) and copyright owners, SEGA SAMMY HOLDINGS. All story contributors via prompt, suggestion, written scene, art, and all and every other contribution acknowledge that all contributed material is forfeit for legal purposes to SEGA SAMMY HOLDINGS upon official request from SEGA SAMMY HOLDINGS.

[bffhreprise]

Entry 349

 Stepping out of my car, I wasn’t prepared to find James standing nearby.  When did he get here?  Shouldn’t he be inside, waiting for me while I finish mentally preparing?  With over an hour drive, I had successfully hyped myself up and then delved into worrying.  James wasn’t close enough for me to see his arrival with my ability.

 “Hi, Maple!  Glad to have you here.  I'm James Michael Somerset III.” he told me as I approached, reaching out to shake my hand.

 Hand… great.  I always hated this part of meeting people.  They always wanted our hands to meet without knowing what would be the consequences.  I really, really hope my potential boss hadn’t just left the restroom.

 Firming my resolve, I took his hand and shook it, saying, “Pleased to…”  Nothing.  I wasn’t seeing anything at all from him.  “meet you.” I quickly finished, not wanting to be weird before I was hired.  My own clothes gave me a constant reminder of everything that had happened within about ten feet of them, including James standing here next to me, but touching him gave me zilch.

 “Mind touring the yard as we talk?” asked James, smiling at me.

 I realized that I was still holding his hand, and quickly released it.  “Uh… no.  Not at all.” I told him, hoping I hadn’t already weirded him out.

 “What about my company attracted your interest?” he inquired, walking by my side down a broad sidewalk leading us along the side of  the insanely large mansion

 I purposefully took a couple breaths before answering.  James had us walking at a pace barely slow enough for me to keep pace, but he didn’t really seem to be in a rush.  Adventurers that don’t keep their head on task often made careless mistakes.  There was treasure to be had, so I was going to do this right.  “I first heard about your company through a friend of my mother, Melissa Robertson.  She hired someone named... Emma, I think.” I explained, glancing at him questioningly in hopes that I had the name right.  When he nodded, I continued saying, “Emma really impressed her and mentioned the business has a wonderful educational program as well.”

 “Yes, we have a deal with the Institute of Autodidacticism to provide a fine education in whatever fields interest you.” he agreed.  Then he pointed to large gardens—just visible now that we had turned the first corner—and said, “We also employ an incredible chef for those who reside here.  Marco’s cooking is absolutely incredible.  Emma ensures that he receives the best produce all year round.  In addition to being an active best friend, she's the groundskeeper.”

 “Wow.  Is everyone that busy?” I questioned, certain that maintaining such large gardens in addition to the vast amount of land had to be a full-time job by itself.

 James smiled in amusement, probably used to people being awed by his home.  “Emma makes keeping the grounds in order look easy, but no one is busier than they want, despite how Brandon might complain.  Iris Storm, for example, works part-time and still lives with her parents.  Everyone else just submits what hours they'd like to work, and the schedule is made based off their availability and the availability of work suited to them that week.” he explained, sounding like he had given this explanation numerous times already.

 Was I just blending in to a normal routine for him, simply one more applicant?  “That sounds amazing.  How do the benefits work then?” I questioned, wanting to sound like I wouldn’t jump at an opportunity to work here without knowing what I was getting into.  If I failed to make an impression, there was no hope at landing this job.  Reaching out to any of the plants in the garden was tempting, and not just because they looked absolutely perfect.  I could probably get a glimpse of Emma at work here to see if she actually was enjoying herself.

 “If you work here, your medical needs are fully covered.” he told me, snapping my mind back into focus on him.  “There are also paid vacations, such as an upcoming trip to France.  You'll be quite welcome if you join us.  I'll make sure you can get a passport in time if one's needed.”

 “What!?  Really!?” I asked, unable to comprehend how a new hire would get to join in on a company trip.

 Nodding, he turned to look at me—probably amused that I had stopped in my tracks—and said, “Of course.  Retirement packages are based off what you earn over your time with us, but I assure you they're quite lucrative.  You also will have access to all training utilities here.  Past the bend and far off to the left is an employee gym.”  He gestured in what had to be the direction of the gym.  “There is also a large pond we like to use for swimming if you prefer swimming outdoors.  If you enjoy video games, you'll have access to all games from Global Princess Entertainment.”

 Access to all of Aaliyah’s games would be incredible, but I forced myself not to focus on that part, returning to something else he had said.  “Sorry, but can we go back a minute?” I asked hopefully, continuing when he waited.  “The medical benefits.  Were you saying you cover insurance entirely?”

 “No.  We provide complete medical services that are better than you'll find in general hospitals.” he replied, watching my reaction.

 “But… how does that even work?  I mean… say I was on a job, got injured, and was rushed to a hospital… how would I get help?” I questioned, knowing I probably came across as a crazy lady at this point but unable to help it.

 “We'd cover any medical fees and get our own people involved as soon as possible.” he replied, casually turning and continuing onward.  “Everything is spelled out in the employee contract, but teams of lawyers can get lost in that thing.”

 “Got any of those on hand for employees?” I asked as a joke.

 “Yes, actually.  My secretary covers most legal matters and might as well be a team.” he told me nonchalantly.

 “Sorry.” I told him, having stopped again.  I forced myself to move again as I said, “My dad's not going to believe this.”  Dad had been skeptical of applying here in the first place with the business being so new, but benefits like this sounded amazing.

 “Both of your parents will be welcome to see the place if you do decide to join us.  We just like a little forewarning is all.  Marco is rather particular about having food prepared just right for everyone.” he explained, a hint of amusement coming through when he mentioned Marco.   “How do you feel about magic?”

 “What?” I asked just before tripping over my own two feet.

 He caught me by the arm and easily helped me regain my footing.  Then he said, “Some might say that looking into the past of whatever one touches is magical.  How do you feel about it?”

 “I… umm…” I started unable to speak any more coherently than my thoughts.  James knew… he KNEW!  How!?

 “Watch.” he ordered as he pointed ahead of us.

 A thick mist formed in the air, spelling out “Magic is real.” in the air.  Then the mist erupted into flames, erasing the previous words and forming “and you have it.” instead.  Water appeared from nowhere, attacking the fire and creating an audible sizzling as the fire was quenched.  Reshaping and freezing into place, the water asked “How do you feel about magic?”

 My mind couldn’t wrap around what I had just witnessed.  This was magic!  Wanting to reassure myself that I was awake, I purposefully used my ability to replay what James had done in my mind.  There were no subtle invocations or whispered words that I saw.  Even pointing seemed to be more for my benefit than necessary for a spell.  Was this real?  I desperately wished the spell—possibly spells—had been closer to us.

 “You know what I can do?” I asked, already knowing the answer.

 “Yes.” he told me, his eyes piercing through me as if he was watching my thoughts.

 “How?” I forced myself to ask, despite being uncertain that I’d really want the answer.  James was rich and could use magic.  Was there a limit to what he could do to get answers?

 His smile seemed reassuring as he said, “The background checks we run are far more detailed than most.  I know how crazy that sounds, but it's true.  You'll find many things are different here, such as most of us using magic.  Some of your potential coworkers can transform their bodies.  One needs the blood of others to survive.  Two people living here are impossible for most to kill.  Work for me, and your world will seem to change as you learn more about others who, like you, possess superhuman abilities.”

 “But…” I started, looking down to my hands.  There was no visual clue to what I did, and I was certain I hadn’t told anyone.  How could a background check tell him about my ability?  Yet, he had blocked it.

 “Here.  Touch this.”  he ordered, taking off his watch and handing it to me.

 Grabbing the watch with a bit of trepidation, I watched its history.  Time flowed backward in my mind, revealing me everything that had happened in a small sphere around this watch.  Everyone was smiling whenever they were around James.  He laughed with them, played games with them, and did an impressive amount of work between everything.  Oddly, he’d leave the watch on his desk for a while each day.  Of course, he took the watch off periodically to do other things as well.

 There was a girl with pink skin and brilliant blue hair appearing regularly.  Focusing on those visions, I was stunned to find out that she was his daughter.  James had a pink daughter with the most amazing eyes.  How?  When?  I knew he had gotten married only recently.  He doted on her, reprimanded her, and gave her countless hugs, often with her begging for one thing or another.  They obviously loved one another.  I was a little surprised to see that the watch was only a week old, but one week was enough.

 “Your friends love being around you.” I acknowledged, very doubtful that any group could maintain such perfect acts for an entire week.  “I want to work here.” I decisively stated.

 “Excellent.  You're hired.” he replied with a smile that made my heart miss a beat.  “I'll show you the rest of the grounds, and then we can head inside to introduce you to everyone who's home.  Welcome to Best Friend For Hire!”

[cyclone-rachel]

@peskyburgers I couldn’t finish it before midnight, and honestly that is my own fault (I’m going to finish the chapter probably later tonight or early tomorrow I promise) but here’s the first part (around 3,569 words) of the musical crossover chapter in Pay the Asking Price!

Querl, Alex, and J’onn stepped through the portal, finding themselves under what looked like a spotlight, on a sort of raised platform in a room that perhaps could’ve been part of the DEO- there were monitors towards the back of the room, chairs- it looked like a room that saw frequent use. But it had a slightly different aesthetic, and there was no question that this was the home of the “Fastest man alive”, who, based on Kara’s description of him and Querl’s own knowledge of heroes of this century, was Barry Allen.

And, appropriately, he was there to greet them, alongside an audience of three others.

“Kara.” Barry said softly, as the three of them approached. “What happened to her?”

“We don’t know.” J’onn said. “But whoever did it has come to this world.”

“Yes.” Querl continued. “And he is looking for you.”

~

Once they had all been introduced to each other (and Querl had confirmed that the others with Barry were Cisco Ramon, Harrison “H.R.” Wells, and Wally West, as he’d thought) J’onn took Kara to the STAR Labs medbay, where Kara was placed on a bed, still lost in her own mind.

“Her vitals are low. How long has she been like this?” Caitlin asked.

“A few hours.” Alex answered.

“Right.” Querl said. “And as I mentioned, the same person who did this to Kara… said that he was going to be looking for the “fastest man alive”- who, as I understand it in your time, is you- Barry Allen. So keeping you safe is our priority, along with finding a way to reverse whatever spell he put on Kara.”

“Who are you, exactly?” Barry asked. “And what do you mean by “your time”?”

Well, the line between what time is my own and what isn’t is becoming increasingly difficult to distinguish. It’s a matter of emotional attachments as much as it is of chronology…

 “How much do you know about the future?”

Barry stared.

“I definitely know that there used to be a guy who wanted me dead who was from the future, and got stuck here. Ended up being why I got my powers- called himself the Reverse-Flash.” He said. “How far in the future are we talking, exactly?”

“The thirty-first century.” Querl stated. “Specifically, the year three thousand and six.”

“And you’re from that year.”

“Indeed. I am Brainiac 5- Half-computer, half-organic lifeform, all Coluan, and, not to brag, but a 12th-level intellect. My name is Querl Dox, but the Legionnaires just call me Brainy.”

“The Legionnaires?”

“My friends- like the team you have here.” Querl continued, deactivating his image inducer and showing the team his ring. “I’m a member of a group called the Legion of Super-Heroes, dedicated to promoting peace across the galaxy by bringing together representatives from all over the United Planets and defending it from those who might oppose that peace. We were inspired by Supergirl, as well as Superman, her cousin- and I was one of the first members, before I… got myself stuck on Earth, in the twenty-first century.”

Funny, how easy it was to tell my story to a stranger, he thought. I could have said so to Kara all along, that I did not land here by accident… but now I must only make up for my mistake, and prove that I am truly sorry.

“Hey, I’ve seen that ring before.” Barry said, looking at it closely. “While I was traveling to another Earth myself, last year… guess it was from yours and Kara’s Earth all along.”

“A logical assumption.” Querl answered. “Also, while I have stayed here… Kara and I were in a relationship. But it ended shortly before this happened.”

“Oh!” Caitlin said. “She never mentioned she had a boyfriend.”

“It was a recent development.”

“I tell you what, I know enough not to mention the break-up between Barry and, uh…”

“H.R.”

“Sorry.”

H.R. cleared his throat, and Querl continued.

“Regardless of what is going on with the status of Kara and myself, I do not wish to leave her in this state.” He said. “I will help as much as possible in finding a way to help her return to consciousness.”

Alex laid a gentle hand on his shoulder, as did Caitlin.

“We will get her back, I promise.” Barry said. “And I’m sure we can find a place where you could help.”

The last thing Querl wanted was to lose himself.

He could not afford to imagine a worst-case scenario, a world where Kara’s future did not continue beyond this point, where she was trapped in a mind-prison of someone else’s design and subject to unknown horrors, forced into a coma with no way from him or anyone else other than her captor to bring her back. He did not want to go back to National City, and tell the world that Supergirl was dead to them, tell others that Kara Danvers was gone and never coming back. He did not want to return to the future and inform the Legionnaires of something that was quickly setting in, in history- that their heroine would have a much shorter legacy than she originally had, something that could hardly be considered a legacy at all.

And it would be his fault. He would go down in history as the twelfth-level intellect who let Supergirl fall under the sway of someone who was much more powerful than he looked- someone, perhaps, who had fifth-dimensional powers, or something close to them.

That was something he would have to investigate- if he saw him again, before that being found Barry Allen.

“So, what happened to her?” Iris asked.

“An alien prisoner escaped our custody, he… did something to her, put her in some kind of a coma.” J’onn explained.

“Then he disappeared, we tracked him here and followed.” Alex said.

“Okay, but why would he come to this Earth?”

“As Brainy said before, he’s looking for you.” J’onn said, to Barry. “We don’t know why.”

“Okay, well clearly we’re talking about a breacher here.” Cisco said. Querl admired his confidence, how relaxed he looked now in familiar territory- much like himself, before he traveled to the past. Even with Supergirl in a coma, he knew that if both of them worked together, things were going to be okay, and she would come back to them, and their common enemy would fall at her and Barry’s hands.

It was just up to her, to come back in the first place.

“And if there’s one thing I can do; it’s find breachers.”

It may not be so easy. He seemed to be more than just someone who travels between Earths…

But I should tell him that in person.

So Querl left the room, following Cisco, and as he left J’onn placed a gentle hand on Querl’s back.

Querl got the message, the conflicted feeling that had churned inside him slowly subsiding as he turned away from Kara’s unconscious body and left to get to work.

But the others joined he and Cisco as well, as they entered a room much like the DEO’s command center, with just about as many monitors that Querl could connect to.

“So what else can you tell us about this guy?” Barry asked.

“Not much. It's like he just materialized out of thin air.” J’onn said, and though Querl was not a telepath himself, he had worked with one enough to know that even this man, someone experienced in leadership and used to knowing everything about what he went up against, was unnerved by this threat- as innocent as said threat may have looked- and he could relate.

“You mean, like this clown just did?” Cisco asked, gesturing towards one monitor, that indeed showed the man who had arrived in the DEO earlier that day, near a place that Querl didn’t recognize.

Barry clearly did, and before anyone could remind him that he was supposed to keep himself safe, he was out.

“I’m gonna go.” He said, and J’onn followed.

~

If she wasn’t completely unaware of how she got there, or how she ended up in this dress, at this club, seemingly in an entirely different time period, singing Moon River… Kara would’ve thought she might be living out her dreams.

The only flaw was that, if she could’ve decided, she would’ve wanted her friends and family there to see her sing, and for them to sing with her, or sing their own songs- or whatever else they wanted. But she seemed to be singing to a crowd of strangers.

That is, until she located one familiar face- and at an appropriate time, too.

But she had to finish her song, and she did so, before she got the chance to go backstage again and greet her multiverse-traveling, very fast friend.

~

Once she did return backstage, though, Barry wasted no time, and they met each other in a tight hug.

“Barry!”

“Hey!”

“Barry, it’s you! Thank Rao!”

The tomato sauce?

But he didn’t have time to think about that, before Kara pulled back and asked him, “Wait, it’s really you, right?”

“Yeah. Yeah, this is me, yeah.” Barry said.

“Good.”

“What is- where the hell are we? What's going on?” Barry asked.

“I was hoping you could tell me.” Kara said. “Or maybe explain to me why I just pulled an Audrey Hepburn and sang in a nightclub.”

You were really good. And you look great, in that dress.

She did- it was black and kind of sparkly, and she wore black gloves, with her hair curled perfectly, and multiple earrings… but still, nobody could compare to Iris, for him.

“Maybe we're dreaming?”

“The same dream?”

“Yeah, that's- What's the last thing you remember before you got here?” he asked her.

“I was at the D.E.O.” Kara said, starting to pace around. “They had just brought in an alien prisoner. He got loose, and it was really weird. He had this, um, red-“

“Pocket handkerchief?” Barry guessed.

“Yes!”

“I saw you on my Earth. You were in a coma. Your boyfriend brought you to us.”

Kara stared.

“Brainy?” she asked. “He’s… not my boyfriend, anymore.”

“Then what is he?”

“Complicated. Um… I’m still trying to figure that out. Nothing, right now.”

“Okay then.” Barry said. “Whoever he is said that this guy whammied you- not his exact words- and then he escaped to my Earth, he showed up at Star Labs, I went after him to try and get him to wake you up-“

“And then you got whammied.”

“Yeah.”

“So, where are we?”

“I don’t know. I mean, it could be a parallel dimension, or maybe some elaborate illusion, we just need to figure a way out.”

“I guess I could… click my heels together three times.” Kara said, not entirely seriously.

Barry, meanwhile, looked at her like it could work.

“…Yeah!”

“I was kidding.”

“Okay, all right, well- Come on. Let's-“ Barry started, as they made their way out of the backstage area.

“You're a really good singer, by the way.” He continued.

“Hey, thanks. My sister says I put the "Kara" in "karaoke.””

“Oh yeah, your sister! She brought you here, too.”

“That’s good.” Kara said, heart aching for Alex. She wondered how she was doing now that Kara seemed to be in yet another illusion- just like the Black Mercy, with Kara in a coma that she couldn’t escape from, while Alex was forced to deal with another problem. Kara hoped she was okay, and that she wouldn’t see Alex in this reality, having been “whammied” herself.

But before they could get too deep into any conversation, they ran into someone Barry seemed to recognize.

He kind of reminded Kara of Jack Harkness, in who he looked like, except dressed in a white suit and far more serious.

Whoever he really was, though, he sounded like he knew them too.

“There you are!”

“Merlyn-“

“Who?” Kara asked, at the same time as the mystery man.

“Who?”

“Malcolm Merlyn. Former head of the League of Assassins.” Barry whispered.

“The what of the what?”

“What the hell you talking about, kid? My name's Cutter Moran, I own this club, and both of you work for me.” He said, apparently having heard Barry.

“We what now?”

“I pay you to sing, not pepper me with questions.” Cutter said. “And I hope you got something better in your songbook than what you were belting out up there, blondie.”

“Hey! Don't call me blondie.” Kara protested.

“Hey, look, I don't know who you are-“ Barry started. But he was quickly silenced, as Cutter pulled out a knife and held it dangerously close to his face.

“-Obviously you're someone who's quick with a knife.” He continued.

“You have to excuse my friend. He doesn't think before he talks.”

“Yeah, I had a cousin like that. I had to slit his throat too.” Cutter said, still waving the knife around in a way Kara wasn’t comfortable with, for Barry’s sake.

“Oh.”

“Grady!” Cutter called. “Get these two set up. And nothing I've heard before. I want something original.”

“Barry, I don't have my powers.” Kara whispered. She hadn’t been able to admit it to herself before, but she knew it was true- she felt the same way in this world as she had when she’d stepped onto Slaver’s Moon a few months previous.

“Me neither.” Barry said, as they both waited for whoever this Grady guy was. If he was working for Cutter Moran, though…

It was safe to say that they were each equally cautious.

But thankfully, the person who came up to them was a much more familiar face for Kara, and the tenseness she was feeling almost instantly eased away.

“Winn! Winn, you're here too?” Kara asked, almost giving him a hug, but he put his hands up before she could get close enough to do so.

“Ah! Who's Winn? The name is Grady. I tickle the keys around here.” He said. “Say, you realize how he got the nickname "Cutter," don't you?”

“No.”

“Because he likes to cut people.”

Grady chuckled.

“You ask me; I think he's all talk.” Said another familiar face.

“Cisco!” Barry said, before realizing again that this wasn’t his world, and these really weren’t his and Kara’s friends and enemies by association. “…not Cisco. Hello.”

I pray that, one day, you do not find out how very, very wrong you are, Pablo. Now go do your job.” Grady said.

“All right.” Pablo answered, before Grady left and he turned to Barry and Kara.

“You see, Grady doesn't know this, but one day, I'm gonna be somebody. I'm gonna be somebody, and it's gonna happen right there on that stage. You'll see. I just need my one shot.” He said.

“It's just curiouser and curiouser.” Barry muttered, as Pablo left too.

“Yeah, yeah, it's like "The Wizard of Oz.” Kara said, knowing that they were talking about two completely different stories but going with her own comparison nonetheless.

“Yeah.”

“And you were there, - and you were there-“ Kara continued.

“- Except, it's not really them. They're all playing characters in a-“

“Musical.” Barry and Kara realized at the same time.

Devious, and brilliant.

“Barry, where are we?” she asked, as the two of them stared at each other.

“I don't know.”

The lights came on brighter, suddenly, and Kara and Barry turned to face the guy who’d whammied both of them. He was still wearing his fancy suit, and now standing on the stage, illuminated by the spotlight.

“Well, you know what they say.” He said. “The show must go on!”

“Ah!”

“-The show must go on! Ah, Supergirl, I loved your rendition of "Moon River," such a beautiful song. You were a little flat in places, but I'm willing to let it slide just because you're so cute.”

“Hold on. What did you do to us?

“Oh, nothing much. Just put a little song in your heart.”

Barry scoffed.

“Put a little-Why did you bring us here?”

“I didn't bring you anywhere. We're inside your heads. You created this world. And we got lucky because it could have been a war movie or a a space opera, but thanks to your love of musicals, with the countless times you watched, um, "Wizard of Oz" - with your adoptive parents –“ he said, looking at Kara.

“How did you know that?” Kara asked, even though she had the feeling she wouldn’t find out, as he then turned to Barry.

“And, you, all those rainy nights watching Fred Astaire and Frank Sinatra with Mom. Well, where else would we be?”

“All right, all right.” Kara said, before attempting to punch him.

He disappeared before her fist could connect with any part of him, only for him to reappear right after she pulled her hand back.

“Ooh! Swing and a miss.” He said. “I didn't tell you. I'm not really here. See, I'm out there in the real world. Central City's mine for the taking.”

“Ah. We're gonna stop you.” Barry answered, even if Kara didn’t think he sounded that confident.

“Yeah!”

“You're welcome to try that. If you can get out of here.”

“How do we get out of here?”

“You're in a movie musical. So all you have to do is just follow the-“

“The Yellow Brick Road?” Kara interjected.

“No, the- the script.”

“Oh, yeah. Script.”

“Reach the end of the plot, and, presto chango, you get to go home. One little detail, though, I should mention if you die in here, you die out there.”

“Lovely.” Barry said.

“I've reached my limit with magical creeps.” Kara added, unable to shake the impression that he might be a new incarnation of Mxyzptlk, messing with her life yet again.

“In the meantime, I hope you're both ready to get the rust off those pipes of yours.”

“We're not singing for you!” Kara answered immediately.

“No. Uh, any anymore, I mean.” Barry said.

“Come on, now, maybe just one little - fun opening number just to-“

He took his jacket off, and threw it away, seemingly for no reason.

“Leave your jacket on.” Barry continued, but was ignored.

“-kick things off!”

“Where did it go?”

“Think of your fellow man-“

“Stop that.” Kara said, at the same time Barry said, “It's not happening.”

“Lend him a helping hand-“

“It's not gonna work.”

“We're not singing!”

“Put a little love in your heart…”

The man walked around behind the piano, and as if compelled by magic, Grady began to play, singing along with him- and eventually, Pablo and Cutter joined in, until the whole thing became a full-scale musical number, as Kara and Barry could only watch.

 When it was over, he’d disappeared, and Kara and Barry went to look for him, deciding to follow the script- which happened to involve running into some more gangsters, and Barry getting knocked out.

~

Barry came to with Kara by his side, as they both seemed to be stuck in what looked like a warehouse.

“Barry, are you okay?”

“Oh, please stop yelling.”

“I'm not yelling.” Kara whispered.

“Wait, where are we?”

“I don't know.”

“All right, well, I'm sure everybody at S.T.A.R. Labs is working on getting us out of this.”

“Yeah, I'm glad they brought me to your Earth.”

Kara exhaled.

“Brainy seems like he really cares about you.”

She scoffed, as Barry stared at her.

“Brainy… only cares about himself.” She said. “And keeping his secrets. He lied to me about how he really ended up here- for nine months. And I know it was noble, that he was trying to protect his friends and all by sacrificing his safety for theirs… but I still wish we could’ve been prepared for what he brought with him.”

“Hmm.”

“I can't shake it. I thought it was gonna be something special like what you have with Iris.”

“That is… off track.”

“I'm sorry.” Kara said.

“I asked her to marry me.”

“You did? That's great.” Kara answered, then upon seeing Barry’s face, changed her answer to, “Did she not say yes?”

“Oh, she said yes, but I guess I did it for the wrong reason, and, I mean, I love her, but I was trying to change the future. Then I pushed her away so I could focus on saving her, and it's just a mess now.”

Kara looked up at the ceiling, contemplating her own relationship problems.

“Everything's so simple when I'm running.”

“Or flying.”

“Shut up! Both of you.” Said the man watching them, leaning against a desk with his arms folded.

The man turned out to not be someone Barry knew named Stein, but instead another gangster, who happened to be partners with someone named not Joe West, but rather Digsy Foss. And Kara and Barry, being the heroes that they were- even though in this reality they were only singers for Cutter Moran- ended up agreeing to help find Digsy’s daughter, Millie. Who happened to look a lot like Iris, and had last been seen in Cutter’s place.

After all, there was nothing they could do other than follow the script, and both Kara and Barry agreed that this was where they were going.

That, and it was, as their captors had promised, a matter of life and death.

Specifically, theirs.

~

Pablo ended up taking them to Apartment 4-B, where Millie was staying.

[thechocoboos]

Could you do the chocobros (+Ardyn and Ravus) taking care of their significant other while she's on her period?

These hcs have been sitting in my google docs for a week now--but hey, they’re ready!!! I ended up with eight pages of headcanons so brace yourself lol; wrote these while i was suffering from the very thing i was writing about. what a life.

HC: The Bros + Ardyn and Ravus taking care of their SO on their period!

Noctis

Noct knew that periods existed, he swore that he did, but he just kinda… forgets.

So when he came home to see you dying on your couch, he was just… ??? “Uh, babe? You okay?”

“NO, Noct, I’m not o-fucking-kay--”

“Uh.”

It was only when he called Ignis that he figured out what was going on, with Ignis exasperatedly having to remind Noct that hey, people get periods!

It was a short phonecall, luckily

And it didn’t take Noct too long to get with the program

Softness increases to 110%

Mutual laziness increases to 70%

Caring for his SO increases to 2000%

He does his best--but he also kinda. Just. I dont wanna say it but he doesn’t think it’s that big of a deal until he sees you crying over cramps, then he realizes that periods suck and that you just need your stupid boyfriend to give you the love and support that you deserve

After that, he gets better!!!

“NoCT, can you please go get me my meds? And some water--”

“Can’t you do it yourself--” He always freezes, remembering how bad it can be, “Shit, sorry, babe--” He already started getting up, bringing out a bit of your favorite snack as an apology, “You know I’m an idiot.” He said when he handed you your meds and your fave candy bar

You know, and for whatever reason, you still loved him

He kinda has to learn what to do and what not to do just because he feels too unsure to ask anyone

Unfortunately, it was also through trial and error that he realized how sensitive you can sometimes be when your period is knockin’ at the front door

He found out through multiple crying sessions--and yes, it was usually his fault, but he was always insanely good about making it up to you with food, cuddles, and movie marathons

He’s the boyfriend who goes to the store for tampons and pads for you, sees the giant aisle of them, and while he isn’t embarrassed to be seen buying shit for his SO, he has absolutely no idea what to get and literally grabs the first shit he sees

And of course, you send him right back with a picture of the brand you actually like and a pad in his hand just so he can get it right the second time

Cue the mental image of Noctis comparing the pad in his hand to the color of pad packaging in stores

“They’re both green so it’s gotta be right… right???”

In summary: Noctis is a dumbass and can be a bit insensitive about periods simply because he’s really not around women or anyone who gets periods, but he really does try to remedy his ignorance and any mistakes he makes

Prompto

Prompto, too, has never really had much experience with girls or periods or people with periods and he just. He tries so hard--he really does

He gets you a new teddy bear every single time (at some point, you know you’re gonna have to tell him that he can’t keep buying you new bears, but it’s so cute that you don’t want him to stop)

He’s the one who gets sympathy pain

I promise, the second he catches wind that you’re on your period, he’s out the door trying to find your favorite of everything

If you send him to the store for pads, he comes back with one of everything and lots of tears in his eyes, “Babe--I didn’t know what you wanted so I just bought everything im sorry oh gods”

He’s the pitiful soul who blushes as he buys all the pads and tampons and looks like he’s gonna cry

He’s the one who pulls a cart full of sanitary products to the first register he sees and is crying as he looks in the clerk’s eyes and cries, “My SO is on their period i dont know what they like help me please”

Christ, he’s a mess but he’s your mess and you love him

He comes back with every single snack he knows you so much as look at

Cravings? He’s got your back.

Like, you mention this shit you want half heartedly and then he disappears for three hours and comes back with a weighted blanket, heating pad, and three bags of those weird chips you were craving

He’s always blushing and frantic, but he blushes the hardest when you ask him to lay with you and cuddle

Ofc he does it--he loves it, but the bold, straightforward way you ask has him blushing head to toes

He once caught himself wishing people got periods more often just so he could hold you like this more often--he accidentally said it out loud, and you only snuggled into his chest more and told him to shut up and hold you tighter

Prompto is a mess but he tries so, so hard just to make you comfortable and content

He once drove for twenty minutes to find your favorite candy bar (and he would do it again, no question)

When you cry bc emotions, he starts to tear up, too

He always says, “Babe, if you cry, I’ll start crying and then we’ll both be crying and I don't think either of us can handle that on an emotional level” and then you both cry anyways

He likes to sing to you when you guys cuddle, his voice is soft but husky in the perfect way that lulls you to sleep

If you fall asleep in his arms, he falls asleep, too

He’s the extra bf who goes above and beyond unnecessarily, merely because he doesn’t know how else to help you

Gladdy

Holy Behemoth Batman! One of these idiots is properly aware of periods!!!

And it’s this one. Bravo, Gladdy, bravo. Fans everywhere are cheering your name.

In all seriousness, he is aware and actually knows how to handle someone who is on their period

Iris used to get some pretty bad periods, and with their mom not around and their dad always busy, it was Gladio who had to help her out and actually explain them to her in the first place (he’s never gonna forget when Iris ran up to him one morning while crying and shouting about bloody underwear)

So, needless to say, he ain’t shy during that time of the month. In fact, he knows more tips and tricks than you do, simply because he was one hell of a big bro for Iris

Heating pads? Blankets? Snacks? Damn good brands of sanitary products? He’s got it all and you didn’t even have to ask, like holy shit

Back when you guys were just starting out your relationship, you had actually gotten your period once while at his place and when you told him you’d have to go home because you forgot your products, he was like, “Oh--hang on. You prefer pads or tampons???” and pulls out a giant basket with a lobster on it, labelled ‘Menstruation Crustacean’

He said that he liked to be prepared in case Iris was over

What an absolute legend of a bf. Like, after that, you knew you weren’t letting this fucker go.

He rubs your stomach if you’re having really bad cramps and doesn’t even have to be asked to go grab you some pain meds--it’s like he has a sixth sense or some shit

Really, really chill about periods as a whole like he’s not scared to go to the store for you and he gets the right products!!!

Sometimes, when you get so sore and crampy that you can’t move, he’ll carry you around in his arms and doesn’t complain once

Will change your bloody sheets and isn’t the slightest bit grossed out--doesn’t mind emptying the bathroom trashcan either

Similar to Prompto, he loves to hold you and hum to you. He won’t sing, but even his absent minded humming while he holds you to his chest under one arm and reads some random book lulls you to sleep with ease

Quite frankly, probably the best of the bros when it comes to periods

He’s not scared of them. He doesn’t care if it gets messy, he knows what to do, like. Shit. Fuckin’ winner over here.

Ignis

Ignis, much like everyone else, does not have that much experience with periods. Didn’t really have many folks with periods around and he’s never had a SO before

So you would think he’s a hot mess--but nO! He would nEvER

He googled and he googled and he googled and he asked coworkers (always respectfully ofc) and he googled some more

He has an arsenal of tips and tricks and guides and everything--but he does lack the hands on experience

He will help you and he will buy you everything you need and more--but there will always be the hesitation of someone who doesn’t really know what they’re doing

One time, Ignis tried to rub your belly to help with cramps, but he only succeeded in tickling you and embarrassingly had to admit he doesn’t really know where his hand should be

Ugh what a cutie pie

He’s patient and sweet and he does all these small things for you without even telling you, and when you do notice, you feel like your heart is just gonna burst and vomit affection everywhere

He’s still a little embarrassed and shy when you boldly demand cuddles, but he does it nonetheless (he fucking loves it though he will never admit to it)

He’s the SO who cleans up bloody sheets and quietly gets blood stains out of your clothes while you’re vomiting from cramps, but never, ever makes a big deal out of it and does it with the caring affection of a kind man in love

Bumps his pun game to 110% to try and make you laugh

Knows which subjects and what phrases and words to avoid to prevent your emotions from blowing up

Even if they do, he never takes rude words to heart and he always comforts you lovingly, giving you a warm hug and a kiss on the cheek

He keeps an eye on you

If you shift uncomfortably, he’s there with a heating pad

If you’re meds are wearing off, he already has more in hand

Sometimes, if you want to cuddle, you only have to look at him a certain way before he’s sighing and climbing into bed next to you, reminding you that if you were anyone else he wouldn’t go this far

He just dotes on you in the quietest ways possible

Ravus

Insensitive Dumbass Part 2

Yes, he knows people get periods. Does he care? No.

Not until he falls in love with you, at least.

Cramps? Can’t be that bad. Migraines? Just mere headaches. Aches and pains? Probably nothing. He dismisses each symptom right up until you come into his life

Because when you guys get together--he gets to see firsthand just how bad everything can get

Oh gods you’re crying from it all?? VOmitting??? HOW WAS HE SUPPOSED TO KNOW--

He felt like a right dick (and he should)

But he was also quick to change his tune, because the love of his life can’t suffer like this

Not while he’s around!!!

He’s quick to ask Luna what to do, and thank god at least one sibling in their family is sympathetic and not a mess and a fucking half otherwise he’d be doing things through trial and error (not that he didn’t, even with the help)

He does everything by the written list Luna had given him (she knew he wasn’t gonna remember everything), even years after you two got together (he likes to use it as a benchmark of sorts to know when he’s doing everything you need)

The first few times you had sent him to the store because you ran out of supplies, he had absolutely no idea what to get and any poor employees who tried to help him earned the most aggressive, hostile glare he could muster

He ends up calling Luna, too, because how is he supposed to call you and tell you that he doesn’t know what to get??? And have you think he’s incapable??? NO! He was gonna be the best bf and get exactly what you fucking needed or so help him--

He’s just very aggressively in love. Little bit of a dick but he changes and grows as a person into the kinda man we can all love and support and who will love and support us right back!!!

He does his best but he doesn’t want to seem incapable of being helpful

Likes to remind you when your medicine is supposed to wear out so he can show that he’s some use

Anytime he gives you a massage or rubs your back or smth, he’s always giving you nervous, uncertain glances just to make sure you’re content or that he’s helping

Always giving you nervous glances just to check that you’re okay (he really loves you, he’s just not sure how to show it)

Lots of hugs and kisses but he’s embarrassed about all the skinship when you want cuddles (don’t get him wrong, he really, really loves it; he’s just… not sure what to do with all these feelings)

He learns how to be a supportive, wonderful SO when you’re on your period and maybe one day he might actually remember your favorite brand (but don’t get your hopes up too much at that)

Ardyn

Back in Ardyn’s day, periods weren’t exactly talked about, so the first few times you mentioned them, he was absolutely flabbergasted that you would blatantly talk about something that was considered so private

If he hadn’t been a healer, he wouldn’t have known near as much about them as he did

But even as a healer, periods were still something considered a woman’s subject and were usually left for women healers and mothers to handle so he could rarely do much

But then--Ardyn had to get pretty fuckin’ used to periods because you were pretty much out of commission when your “aunt irma” came to visit

First couple times you got your period while with Ardyn, they weren’t so bad, but then they went right back to their normal symptoms

When Ardyn came home to see you curled up in a ball, clutching your abdomen and trying to just keep your eyes shut to block out the light, he had thought you were terribly, terribly sick

“Darling--what’s wrong? What happened--” He was genuinely concerned and worried, his brow furrowed and mouth drawn in a worried frown. He hadn’t realized that your periods were so debilitating, so to see you like this, he had thought something even worse had happened

You only managed a groan when you tried to talk, and that only made him rush over even more, trying to lift your arms to see where you were injured, “Darling, please--”

“‘M fine,” you tried to say, “It’s just--fuck,” You hissed as a particularly bad cramp came your way, “--fine, jus’, that time of the month.” You wheezed, laying your head back down on your pillow

And that was when Ardyn realized just how terrible the symptoms could be

He was a worried man. Absurdly worried actually, and sometimes it made you want to laugh if everything didn’t hurt so badly

Ardyn was the kind of man to do absolutely anything and everything for his love, so that’s what he did

You never had to leave the bed for anything unless you really wanted to

Ardyn would deliver your pain meds on the clock, always accompanied by the most ridiculously jeweled goblet he could find (he was always one to be amusingly over the top and treat you like a queen, but his dramatics always cheered you up)

He was usually by your side unless you requested some alone time, and then he would respectfully kiss your forehead, say “Of course, darling. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to call--I am always at your disposal,” and close the door quietly as he left

Otherwise, he would be laying in bed with you, one arm wrapped around your shoulder and the other holding some old book or resting across his stomach as he took a nap beside you

He would give you massages wherever you ached and he would provide herbal remedies from back in his day that were pretty good at relieving aches and pains

Ardyn’s innuendos and teasings would go on the back burner during this time--unless you instigated it

If you didn’t, he might tease you here and there, but always the tiniest, most light hearted things and it was always said in the softest teasing tones

All your feelings are valid to him, hormonal or otherwise, and he will listen to every word you say as though they were your last

Yes, you were usually treated like royalty by him, but it somehow increased exponentially when that time of the month arrived

[szopenhauer]

Would you ever chew gum after someone else already has? noooo, yuk

Earrings or a necklace? necklace

Have you ever wished on 11:11? I do smth else/have different tradition

Have you ever listened to the Goo Goo Dolls? Iris, even recently

Have you ever watched Lost? nah

Do you have pictures of your exes? I think I deleted them

Do you have Ozzy Osbourne on your mp3 player? I don’t listen to him but I liked to watch Osbourne’s family tho

Do you read romance novels? the only one I could count as a romance was Five feet apart

Did you draw pictures for your crushes in preschool? no :o

Have you ever not asked someone out cause you were scared of rejection? yep

Have you ever liked someone just because of their appearance? had some crushes like this, especially celebs lol

Pink or green? green but pink with green looks interesting

A bracelet or a ring? depends

Lord of the Rings or Harry Potter? LOTR

By airplane or bus? bus

What’s the last thing you binge watched? She-ra

Do you watch youtube videos or tv shows more? yt videos

What are you tired of right now? everything

Have you ever gotten rid of something and then regretted it? If so, what?  several things, personal

How does your stomach feel right now? silence before the storm?...

Do you live in an apartment that has inspections? I don’t live in an apartment

Do you hate taking naps during the day? yes and no

Who in your immediate family has the best natural hair? my grandma has, she never got grey hair nor dandruff etc.

Do you know anyone who thinks they’re more talented than they are?   obvi

What is the origin of your last name? polish?

Have you ever been inside a Victorian mansion? I wish

What was the most boring field trip you ever went on? hmm...

What are your favorite types of videos to watch on youtube? music videos, thrift hauls, interiors, fashion, funny stuff...

What’s a DIY craft project you want to try? I’m not into DIY

Are you a hoarder? yep

Do you ever call yourself stupid in your head? often

If you were to start a collection, what would it be? not counting those I already have? for example - znicze

Would you ever give your daughter the middle name Marie? I could, especially if it was a boy :P as it’s legal to call him Maria if it’s the middle name lmfao

Do you have a relationship with God? some sort of it

Have you ever “fired” a doctor? could say so

Who is the prettiest Asian youtuber that you can think of? I don’t watch any Asian youtubers

What was the temperature where you live today? less than 30 Celsius but it felt colder

Is your sleep schedule all messed up? umm...

Did you wear green last St. Patrick’s Day? I don’t celebrate this 

Food: Are you adventurous or do you stick to what you know? stick 

Do you know both of your biological parents? I do

When was the last time you wrote so much your finger ached? last night

Do you store a lot of pictures you’ve taken that no one else has seen? ppl close to me saw them

When did you first start using the internet? regularly or very first time?

Do you prefer tents or staying in hotels? prefer hotels

Do you have any family traditions for certain holidays? Which? personal

Do you enjoy clowns / street performers or are they creepy to you? some I like

Have you ever had a teacher who would just babble about nothing? for example - we had a priest who was always talking about war times or his night dreams :D

Do you ever look at a word and think that it looks odd? hahaha it happens

Did you ever dream about being an animal? plenty

Which vowel occurs most in your whole name? A

What’s your favourite colour on a dog? dunno

Do you prefer Skirts or Dresses? dresses, I can use them as tunics

Have you ever been told you are fake? once :(

Can you do cartwheels? not well

Do you like the name Sara? no longer...

What’s your first name without an r, e, s or l? doesn’t change

What’s your age plus two divided by 4? 7.5

Do you know someone named after a month (April, May, June)? used to know May

Stop typing. What do you hear? someone is mowing grass as every other day ugh...

What was the last book you read that also is a film? Five feet apart

How often do you get a new purse or a new wallet? whenever I feel like it but I thrift them so it’s not like I spend lots of money

What is the most money that you have ever spent on getting your nails done? few PLN for a nail polish and done them myself lol

Does it matter to you if your girlfriend drinks? I wouldn’t date an alcoholic, someone who is drunk a lot and then do stupid stuff, pukes, have hangovers often, spend all their money on alcohol, smells like it, gross!

Has a little kid ever fallen asleep on your lap before? nah, just cat

If you heard your best friend’s significant other was cheating on them, would you tell them? Even if you couldn’t prove it? I’d mention that to them

Do you plan on having both your parents at your wedding? if they want to attend...

Have you ever stayed on a ride at a theme park to ride it again? nope

Where did your mother and father meet for the first time? in front of the church

Would you rather read books or magazines? depends

Have you ever had your cheek pinched? I hate that >.>

Do you own any plaid pants? I have a pair of plaid leggings and pajamas

Do you talk in your sleep? nah

Have you ever fallen off a horse? never been on a horse to fall

Can you pick things up with your toes? I do this often

If you are a girl, do you get bad PMS, or is it not so bad? my PMS were usually worse than my period

Would you rather have your shirt be too long or too short? too long

Are you the type of person who can shake insults off easily, or do they tend to stick around in your brain & bother you? stay forever

Do you like clothes with ruffles on them? usually not

Were you happy when you woke up today? I wasn’t

Have you used the opposite sex’s bathroom in a public place before? had to 

Do you rent movies frequently? I don’t have money for that

Do you quote movies or songs to answer survey questions? very rarely as it’s annoying

What is your name spelled backwards? Annazuz :3

How do you think the world will end? people will destroy it?

An alien ship lands at your house, and they want you. Do you go with them? 

If you were in a horror flick, would you be one of the first ones to die? I think I would survive or die saving someone

What movie has been taken WAY too far, as far as sequels go? most of them but it’s more shows’ thingy

Do you get a fake Christmas tree each year, or a real one? fake, I’m against using real ones

How long would you have to know someone before tying the knot? it’s not about length of time that much

Would you embarass yourself if you met your favorite celebrity? probably :x

If a person had a glass eye, would that scare you? no idea, hope not as I don’t wanna make them feel bad, sorry in advance

Are you a twin? am not

Do you get paranoid that someone’s looking at your through your window? my neighbor sometimes does so...

Mountains, oceans, or forests? forests

When was the last time you “de-haired” your hairbrush? recently?

Are any of your great grandparents still alive? they’re all dead

Where’s your significant other? visiting her dad

How much blankets do you sleep under? 1-2

Is a hair dryer a necessity for you? it is

If you were atop a tall building, would you throw stuff at people below? don’t do that!

Do you believe we really landed on the moon? I don’t give a shit

Name a movie everyone else thought was funny, but you couldn’t stand: majority of comedies tbh

What topping do you HATE on pizzas? same, I’m more into simple food

Got any interesting wigs? bunch

Can you resist temptation? most often

Would a credit card get you into trouble? if I lost it, I would be paranoid about it 24/7, omg I just got scared I’ve lost my ID and bus card 

Truth or dare? truth?

Which is more annoying: sequels or prequels? *shrug*

Do you use rechargeable batteries? when I did they were blowing up, didn’t charge back or smth like this so I prefer normal ones thank you very much

Describe the chair you’re sitting in. Is it comfy? it's so old there’s barely anything left to sit on but I have no cash for a new one nor can get that kind of chair anywhere so... 2 pillows under my butt have to be enough

What would you do if you thought someone was following you? try to lose them

[backtothestart02]

Mixed Drink - 8/? | westallen fanfiction

A/N: No WA interactions but a necessary chapter. I hope you enjoy! Many thanks to @travelattwilight for commissioning this!

*Many thanks to @valeriemperez for beta’ing.

...

Chapter 8 -

With a generosity she was not feeling, Iris responded with a smiley face emoji and an agreeable sure followed by an enthusiastic can’t wait to see you!

Barry had canceled on her. Again.

She supposed it was partially her fault. She’d been ravenous with him the last couple days. He’d indulged her, of course, but she’d been the one constantly pinning him to the bed or the door or the wall or down on the seat in the shower so she could straddle him. Honestly, she couldn’t remember ever being this horny in her entire life.

Then again, she hadn’t gotten laid in months, maybe even a year. She was long overdue for some body lovin’.

It was more than that, as reluctant as she was to admit it. She sexed the man up because lust made no sense. She had despised him shortly after they first met, and now she was calling him pet names because the last few days had consisted of probably the best sex she’d ever had.

It was ridiculous. She was ridiculous.

But one thing wasn’t.

What Barry said about Patty… Well, she didn’t want to do it, but she knew she had to. Great sex with Barry wasn’t going to make her problems go away. And he was right that she needed to have a plan for after he was gone, since he wouldn’t be there to assist her for another month. She couldn’t force her boss to take her back, and the problems with her family were too difficult to resolve in one day. But Patty… Patty had always been on her side, even after she heard about the family drama that would make anyone else side with Iris’ parents.

Patty had been royally pissed off the day she kicked Iris out, and she hadn’t tried to call her, but it was difficult for the cop-in-training to stay mad. Just because Iris hadn’t ever seen her actually get this mad before now didn’t mean she wasn’t also capable of coming down from it after a certain period of time. She might not take her back as a roommate, but maybe their friendship could be mended, and Patty could even help her look for a job.

Iris bit her bottom lip, debating her two very straightforward options: to call or not to call.

She opted not to call and texted instead.

Pulling out her phone, she found Patty in her contacts and opened a text message.

Can we talk?

She hit send.

Moments later she received a reply. The buzz from her phone nearly made her jump out of her seat it was so instant.

Where?

Iris breathed a sigh of relief. Patty knew her. She knew she was an in-person kind of girl when it came to resolving conflict. And often, that she needed the other party to come to her.

The Charlton. Rooftop café.

Patty didn’t respond for a full minute.

SRSLY?!?

Iris smiled to herself and sent one final message.

Get here as soon as you can. 😉

…

Humming quietly to herself with a headset and three computer monitors in front of her as well as two hanging from the ceiling, Felicity Smoak multi-tasked through five of the big projects of the day that she’d been steadily going at since eight o’clock that morning.

It was now noon.

A light knock on the door frame leading to the gloomy room lit only by a couple dim lamps and monitors did nothing to dissuade her from her tasks.

Opening the take-out bag containing her favorite meal though, was.

She stopped, her fingers hovering over the keyboard in front of her. She sniffed a few times, the sounds in her headset fading away due to her concentration. She turned around slowly.

“Is that…”

She saw his huge, gorgeous smile seconds before she connected who he was without seeing his face clearly and what he’d brought for her without seeing that in front of her.

“Barry All-”

But she nearly went down in her haste to get to him, thanks to a headset still attached to the monitor and now wrapped around her head.

Barry, with his long stride, got to her seconds before her heels went sideways and managed to catch her mid-air with one heel still barely touching the ground.

She straightened her glasses that had gone sideways and blinked a few times before looking at him, scrutinizing.

“Is my food safe?” she asked, which made him laugh belatedly and glance at the bag before him on the floor.

“Perfectly,” he said, setting her down. But she was too worried that somehow her food being that close to the floor might taint it somehow.

“Barry, you can’t just-”

He raised his eyebrows after she’d turned around with the bag clutched tightly in her arms.

“Thank you for lunch.”

She climbed up the two steps to get back to her seat, then sat down.

“You can go now.”

His jaw dropped.

“That’s it?”

He followed her over to the semi-circle desk and sat down on the least cluttered part of it, despite Felicity’s fussing that he was moving her very important papers to the wrong piles and thus messing up everything.

He resolved to stand up and search out the stool but found that also had a stack of papers on it that was likely just as important as the rest.

“There’s got to be a better way to organize this,” he muttered under his breath.

He thought briefly back to his file on Iris and how she’d always had the cleanest presentation boards and well-written papers in school, and how – until she’d been kicked out – her bedroom had been immaculate.

He shook his head at how ridiculous some of the facts on people the government deemed important for a later date.

But he dismissed his initial thought too. Iris deserved so much more than just making Felicity’s endless paperwork organized and presentable.

“I thought I wasn’t going to see you this week,” she said, taking a bite into a sandwich Barry couldn’t even pronounce let alone imagine actually tasted good. She moaned appreciatively.

“Yeah, I…” He tried to come up with a good excuse and came up blank, which was so unlike him.

“Draeger finally got to you, huh?”

He sighed. “It’s not that I don’t like seeing you, Felicity. We’re friends. You’re one of the few women in the whole department I haven’t slept with yet.”

She turned around slowly.

“Always an encouraging thought.”

Silence lingered between them.

“Who is she?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Don’t play coy with me, Bartholomew,” she said around a mouthful of food. “I know you met someone – like, really met someone. Like, not a one-night someone, but a someone someone.” She closed her mouth and finished chewing as his mouth fell open.

“How did you-”

“I’m good,” she said, relaxing some as she set her sandwich on a napkin.

“You’re the best.” He grinned.

“So, tell me about her,” she said, swinging one knee over the other. “What’s she like?”

He ran a hand through her hair and approached her, sinking his hands into his pockets.

“What makes you think-”

“It’s a her? Well, you’re straighter than an arrow, my friend, so it can’t be-”

His brows were fused together, and Felicity’s mouth went dry.

“I was going to say serious.”

“Right!” She brightened up. “Right, that’s exactly what- I was just messing with you.”

His eyebrows shot up.

“I promise! I’m not that out of sync with you. We’ve known each other for what? Ten years?”

“At least,” he agreed, and hesitantly sat on a stool Felicity appeared to have pulled out of nowhere.

“So…?”

He wrapped his hand around the back of his head and hesitated, avoiding eye contact.

“Wow. It is serious.” Her heart swelled. “I didn’t think I’d see the day Barry Allen fell in love.”

His eyes fixed on hers immediately.

“I’m not in love.”

“Falling?”

“No.”

“Infatuated?”

He hesitated again. She smiled victoriously.

“Infatuated, it is.”

“Don’t get too excited. Kevin says I have to be on the plane back to London tonight. I told Iris I’ll come back to see her once a month, but-”

“Ooo…Iris. Iris as in Iris West? As in who we all originally thought the target was supposed to be?”

He nodded once, tired already of retreating from the truth.

“One and the same.”

“And you’ve been what? Romancing her for the last three days?”

“Well…” His voice squeaked a bit.

“You haven’t just been having sex with her nonstop since the gala, have you?”

“You know me so well, Felicity.” He leaned towards her lecherously, and she leaned back against the desk just as far.

“Ray told me you got hit, though.”

He angled his head so she could get a better look.

“You probably can’t see very well in here, but-”

Felicity reached around under the desk and flipped a switch, immediately lighting up the room.

“Since when-”

Jax installed it last week with a couple of the other guys. That’s one of the reasons I was hoping to see you this week, so I could show it off.

“But you choose to keep it off when you’re working, because?”

“I focus better in the dark.”

He raised his eyebrows again, but there wasn’t time for him to remark, because she had turned his head to the side again and nearly screeched into her loud gasp.

“Oh, my God, Barry.”

He frowned. “It’s not the worst I’ve gotten.”

“No, but it’s bad. Who got you?”

“Henry, if you can believe it.”

“Henry’s new.”

“Exactly.”

Felicity pursed her lips.

“Well, I hope you didn’t take it out on him too harshly. What did you tell Iris?”

“That I went for a walk and got punched in the face.”

“And she bought it?” she deadpanned.

He glared.

“Wow, she must have it bad. Almost as bad as you, I dare say. Did she… ‘kiss it all better’?” she teased.

“If you must know,” He pulled back. “She iced it for a good three hours before any kissing came into play.”

She chuckled.

“Oh, my God, I can’t believe this. Barry Allen – in love.” He opened his mouth to correct her. “Sorry, sorry, ‘infatuated’.”

He rolled his eyes. “This may come as a surprise, but I didn’t come here to talk about my love life with you.”

“Oh, it’s a love life now, not a sex life?” She wiggled her foot dangling in the air.

“Felicity.”

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop.” She giggled. “My guess is you came because you need help finding Bethany.”

He was surprised again but made no show of it this time.

“You guessed right. Have you found her?”

“Well, I wasn’t sure you would come, but…yes.”

She handed him a small pile of papers.

“This is all the information we have on her. She was last seen entering the bank on North and Bower 20 minutes ago.”

His eyes zeroed in on hers.

“Robbery?”

“Unlikely. Her M.O. is night robberies. She’s pretty legitimate during the day. It’s why she’s been so hard to catch. Plus her husband, interestingly enough, makes wigs. So, the whole family makes their getaway through convincing disguises from one state to the next.”

“Has she ever tried to go overseas?”

“Not as a criminal, but she used to go to Italy every summer up until she was in her early 20s. She has a dual citizenship there.”

Barry’s lips thinned. “Interesting.”

“Indeed.” She tilted her head to the side. “Need anything else from me?”

He looked down at her and relaxed, smiled.

“Just your word that you won’t go around telling people I’m sleeping with or in love with anyone.”

“So, infatuated is still on the table then?”

He glared, and she laughed.

“You have my word.” She waved him off. “What more could I possibly want in life than to have Barry Allen’s dirty little secret kept all to myself?”

She kept chuckling until after they’d said their goodbyes and Barry left.

When she stopped, she realized there was more than one of his secrets she was taking to her grave.

...

*Also posted on AO3 and FFnet.

[iffeelscouldkill]

Any day breathing

“Captain Tripathi. You’re alive!”

He presents it as a joke, to mask the very real fear that lies underneath those words. The fear that someday, she won’t come back to him safe and whole.

–

A/N: I wrote another thing :3

To the folks in the Starship Iris Discord: I finished it! This started out as a little ficlet idea that I had a while back: a Sana/Campbell concept based on Campbell’s stock greeting of “Captain Tripathi. You’re alive!” I wrote half of it down (I got sidetracked partway through) and then let it sit in my Starship Iris ideas notes file (god, you do not want to see the length of that thing) for ages.

Then, a conversation in the TSCOSI Discord about Campbell, pining, and Campbell’s probable reaction to the Rumor reports being uploaded to the public net (which I had totally forgotten about asfdfgsgsdgsg) inspired me to pick it back up.

It was meant to be a short, whimsical, feels-filled ficlet about Sana and Campbell’s conversations through the years. It turned into something… much longer than that.

Enjoyyyyy~

–

“Captain Tripathi. You’re alive.”

The first time he says it, the surprise is genuine. It’s hard not to be surprised to hear from this woman again – someone whose name had been only a rumour to him until very recently. He’d heard about her from contacts of contacts, mentioned here and there, always with a reverent tone. She had some kind of revolutionary past, he’d heard: was jailed as a dissenter, or had taken part in an uprising. One version of that story said that she’d led an entire planet in an uprising. He also heard that she’d hijacked a high-level Regime starship – possibly in mid-flight.

Whatever he was expecting when they finally met face-to-face, the slender, wiry woman in the brightly-coloured shalwar kameez with a streak of engine grease near her hairline and elaborate floral tattoos adorning muscular arms is not it. Sana Tripathi walks straight into his base of operations – a network of winding corridors and tucked-away cubbyholes in what’s meant to be a confidential location – flanked by a younger woman with a murderous expression and more visible weapons than he can take in with one glance, and demands two full sets of new identification, impeccable and untraceable, to get the IGR off their tail.

“I heard you were the best,” she tells him, a challenge.

Campbell holds out for a full fifteen minutes, but by the end of it he’s agreed to everything she asks for and feels distinctly like he’s gone ten rounds in the sparring ring they used to blow off steam back in the military, verbally speaking. She agrees to pay half up-front, with the promise of the rest once they safely reach their destination.

It’s an hour-long job, and he doesn’t know where the two of them go to lie low while he’s working, but exactly an hour later the glowering, heavily-armed woman is back to pick up their documentation. He’s a little disappointed that it’s not the Captain who came to collect.

The other woman – who tells him shortly that her name is Patel; the name on the papers he’s made for her is Kay Grisham – pays and leaves. He later hears that the IGR is conducting randomised searches at every checkpoint, detaining anyone whose background doesn’t quite check out neatly enough, or whose personal or ship ID papers look a little too new.

Campbell is completely confident in the quality of his work, but he’s not sure that Tripathi could pass a visual check, if she’s been on an IGR watchlist – and that friend of hers didn’t really seem like the subtle type. After thirty-six hours with no word, he figures the rest of the money is lost, but chalks it up as an interesting story to tell.

Two hours later, he gets a call from an unknown number. After running the standard traces on it (the IGR aren’t as good at disguising themselves as they like to think), he accepts the call.

“Is this Ignatius Campbell?” asks the voice on the other end – brisk, but with the hint of warmth and humour lurking underneath.

“Captain Tripathi,” he says in surprise. “You’re alive.”

“Of course,” the Captain replies blithely. “We delayed our departure slightly in order to catch the shift changeover for the randomised checks. The outgoing agents are always tired and less likely to bother with a full database check, and the incoming agents have never been briefed properly. Then we had to make sure that we weren’t being tailed.”

“Of course,” Campbell echoes. This woman is no amateur, and he realises that he’d managed to underestimate her even after everything that she’d managed by tracking him down, coming to him and persuading him to work with her. He makes a mental note not to do that again.

“So, I assume this call is about payment,” he adds, when Captain Tripathi doesn’t volunteer anything further.

“How very astute of you,” the Captain replies, too good-humoured to be mocking, and then proceeds to brazenly haggle him down a further twenty-five percent.

Campbell doesn’t believe in love at first sight, and he never will. But he does believe that there are people whom, when you meet them, the universe demands you sit up and pay attention to.

–

“Captain Tripathi – you’re alive.”

Even after resolving not to underestimate Sana Tripathi, Campbell is still surprised when he hears from her again. It’s been eight months, and during that time, his best-placed informants hadn’t picked up a single trace of Captain Tripathi or her companion. Not under the names he’d created for them, and not under the names they’d given him when they met.

It’s unheard of for him to be unable to track an alias he’s created (he wouldn’t be able to stay ahead of any potential threats unless he had that advantage), but he knows that the Regime has ways of making people vanish completely. It’s a cold, unpleasant realisation, and he experiences an unusually strong pang of regret considering that he barely knows this woman. But he’s sure that somehow, they must have slipped up and got caught.

So when Captain Tripathi contacts him again like nothing has happened, he realises he might just have to get used to unexpected developments.

He’s somehow not even surprised to hear that since they last spoke, she’s picked up a Dwarnian and some kind of renegade translator who has a history with the mafia. “He’s an academic, so he won’t be seeing any action, but he needs to have papers that will hold up if the ship is inspected while we’re docked,” the Captain explains casually.

“…Naturally,” says Campbell. “And speaking of your ship – I suppose you have a full work-up of papers for that, too? You know they’ve tightened the regs on those a lot recently.”

He tells himself he’s only saying it so that he can squeeze an extra job out of a contact he’s fairly confident will be good for the money. Not because he’s concerned.

“Are you suggesting that my ship’s paperwork is less than completely impeccable?” Captain Tripathi asks him with mock indignation.

Campbell suppresses a smile as he replies, “Given that it was made by someone other than myself, I’m surprised it’s held up this long.”

Their conversation concludes with him agreeing to redo the ship’s paperwork – somehow at a much lower price than he would usually charge for a second-time client.

–

“Captain Tripathi. You’re alive!”

It’s already become a joke between them by this point, the fact that Campbell answers Sana’s calls this way, and he waits in anticipation of the sarcastic response that he knows will follow. They’ve been in relatively regular contact since Campbell started playing middleman for some of their cargo, using his network of contacts to move it on and taking a cut. He’s stopped bothering to deny to himself how much he looks forward to their conversations.

But this time, the voice that comes down the line is not Sana Tripathi’s, but Arkady Patel’s. “It’s First Mate Patel, actually,” she says brusquely, and Campbell sits up slowly. “I know you guys traditionally open with like, twenty minutes of banter, but we don’t have time for that right now. We’re in a bind.”

Campbell has a cast-iron policy of not offering any favours, offering help to contacts, or otherwise sticking his neck out any further than he needs to. He keeps his relationships strictly about business and nothing more. Much like his ability to track an alias, it’s what’s kept him off the IGR’s radar for so long.

There are one or two folks whom he goes way back with – like Theodore “Red” Gregor, who was in his unit and a fellow dishonourable discharge. Campbell helped him set up his business on Elion. There aren’t many who could manage to stay in business while avoiding both the mob and the Regime, but if anyone could, it was Red.

But they’re rare exceptions to a very strict rule. Anyone else is on their own, or had better be prepared to owe him for a long, long time.

Campbell thinks about all this before he says, “What do you need?”

–

Campbell is ashamed of how long it takes him to realise that Sana is a fellow Telemachian. He’s usually good at identifying fellow homeworlders, even ones who have lived elsewhere. Telemachians have this spark, this spirit, a distinctive culture that even the Regime couldn’t stamp out of them.

They’re diverse, sure, and numerous, but you can always spot a fellow Telemachian if you know what to look for. They’re the unruly planet on the edge of a solar system, a little too far away from any established IGR base to monitor closely; a little too big to be brought to heel. There’s a reason that most protest songs originate from Telemachus – and that there’s been periodic unrest every few years since the coup.

They’re making small talk at the end of a call (something Campbell indulges in far more than he should), and Campbell is talking about evading the IGR’s latest clampdown and how hard it’s becoming to operate underground. “It’s enough to make me want to give it all up and become a vegetable farmer somewhere.”

“Wouldn’t you get bored?” Sana asks, playfully but with a hint of curiosity lurking underneath.

“Yeah. Probably.” Campbell’s not sure. Maybe if he had the company of the right person, it wouldn’t be so bad. “Just, all this running in place… it feels so futile.” It comes out sounding more tired than he means it to.

“Well, you know what they say,” says Sana, seriously. “When their foot is on your throat-”

“-any day breathing is a victory,” Campbell finishes. “I didn’t know you were a homeworlder.”

There’s a pause, and he thinks that Sana is weighing up what to say next. She hadn’t meant to give so much away, he realises – for all that he’s got to know a fair bit about the smuggling business that she runs, and the odd detail about life on board the Rumor, Sana is very cautious about revealing anything about her own past, or that of her crew, beyond what is strictly required to do business. Campbell has never minded that – he can respect a person’s boundaries. He doesn’t need to pry into Sana’s past to be sure that she won’t screw him over.

“I’ve moved around a bit,” she says, finally. “I spent a few years off-planet in the late 70s. Since then I’ve been… transient. Well, you knew that.”

Campbell inclines his head, though he knows that Sana can’t see it. He’s still considering what to say when she carries on,

“I don’t go back to the homeworld much these days. Actually, when we first approached you to work with us-” Campbell gives a wry smile at how much of an understatement that is, “-it was the first time that I’d been back to Telemachus in years.”

“It’s still home, though, isn’t it?” he says, thinking of the time that he’d spent in deployment; the years that he was on the run, unable to get word to his sister or his nephews. “After everything.”

“Yeah, it is.”

–

Campbell doesn’t really think twice the first time he invites the crew of the Rumor to have dinner with him.

It’s late in the evening, and the crew has just touched down on Telemachus a full twelve hours later than they’d originally planned. First there’d been some unprecedented solar flare activity en route, forcing them to take a detour, and then they’d been boarded by Regime agents in a “random” check on entry to Telemachus. Krejjh had been quickly hidden away in one of the ship’s many nooks and crannies, and the paperwork had all checked out (of course), but the agents had been both suspicious and thorough. All in all, the crew is obviously exhausted and a little fractious by the time Campbell meets them to pick up the cargo. Sana is doing her best to keep things businesslike, but she wilts visibly and rubs her hand over her eyes when she thinks he isn’t looking.

“Hey. Listen, we can go over all this tomorrow,” Campbell says, as gently as he can. “You guys’ve had a rough journey – what d’you say we grab a bite to eat instead?”

Arkady’s frown deepens, of course – it’s her job to be suspicious, and Campbell doesn’t take it personally. More to the point, he knows that it’s just her way of trying to look out for the crew. Arkady Patel is a lot more caring than she tries to let on. She might show it with jibes in the background of calls, or with threats and occasional bodily harm in the direction of anyone who threatens her friends’ safety, but she shows it.

For her part, Sana looks extremely relieved at the idea of being able to put business off until the morning.

“That’s really kind of you, Campbell,” she says. “It’d be great to take a bit of a breather, but we don’t want to impose…”

“It’s no imposition,” says Campbell, shrugging. “I was planning to go out to eat tonight anyway – I’ve been cooped up indoors too much lately. There’s a great hole-in-the-wall two blocks away from here – it doesn’t look like much, but the food is something else. Krejjh can come, too – they get all kinds in there.”

Sana tells him they’ll consult Brian and Krejjh before coming to a decision, but Campbell has a feeling that the answer will be yes, despite Arkady’s clear misgivings. Sure enough, Sana is back minutes later with a mild-mannered translator and an excitable Dwarnian (disguised with a large pair of novelty sunglasses and a wide-brimmed hat) in tow.

Over the months – almost a year, now – that Campbell has been doing business with the Rumor crew, he has a sense of how they work together as a group: Krejjh piloting the ship and executing daring last-minute escapes; Brian joking and mediating and cooking slightly disastrous food; Arkady watching Sana’s back and intimidating obstacles into submission; and Sana alternately leading and mothering, driving ruthless bargains for the benefit of her crew.

But it doesn’t compare to the experience of eating at the same table, drinking the Rumor’s lethal home-brewed moonshine, listening to outrageous tales and laughing until his sides hurt.

The next day, Campbell is unsurprised when he doesn’t hear a word from the Rumor crew until nearly two o’clock in the afternoon. He himself only crawled out of bed at noon, and has since been avoiding light sources and slowly regaining his humanity over strong black coffee.

“Incoming call from Sana Tripathi.”

“Captain Tripathi,” Campbell says as he answers his comm. “You’re alive?”

“The jury’s definitely still out on that one,” Sana replies, her voice low and rough. Campbell chuckles, and then hopes the sound wasn’t too loud. “We’re at various stages of recuperation, but at a minimum, Arkady and I will be able to meet you with the cargo at our rendezvous point by three.”

“Make it four,” Campbell says, in deference to how utterly wrung-out she sounds. To cover this up, he adds, “I only joined the land of the living about half an hour ago myself. I’m going to need at least three more cups of coffee before I’m functional.”

“Four it is,” says Sana, businesslike, but with a clear undertone of relief. “We’ll see you there.”

“See you both soon. And, Sana –”

Campbell stops, wondering if he’s overstepping. Last night had been so easy, so fun – by the end of it, the Rumor crew felt like old friends. But it’s harder to recapture that feeling in the light of day, sober. What can he say – ‘Thanks for a great night’? ‘We should do this again sometime’?

(‘You have a beautiful laugh’?)

He clears his throat. “Don’t let Brian forget about that drink he owes me. And uh, you and the rest of the crew are always welcome to make a stop. To refuel, or…” He clears his throat again. “Or for whatever reason.”

“Thanks, Campbell,” says Sana, warm and genuine. “We’ll see you soon.”

–

Things start to get a lot tougher over the months that follow – on Telemachus and on every other planet that Campbell has contacts. Forgers and traders he’s worked with for years go silent, or are rarely heard from; he gets wind of abrupt crackdowns, the Regime imprisoning people who show the slightest bit of dissent, petty criminals being sent down with lengthy sentences.

Telemachus starts to stir. He hears murmurs on the streets. A leaflet is shoved into his hand by a hooded young person who is gone before he can blink. Campbell skims enough of it to know that he would probably be arrested if he were found with it on his person. He burns it, but he knows it’s only a matter of time before the protests start.

On his next call with the Captain to arrange a routine cargo drop-off, he can’t stop himself from urging her to be careful. Sounding amused, she promises him that she will.

“Are we still on for drinks at that bar you promised to take us to?”

“I don’t know what their house policy is on home-brewed moonshine,” Campbell warns her. “But of course we are.”

“Great. We’ll see you in a week, Campbell. Sana Tripathi out.”

He’s not expecting to get another call from her just three days later. Campbell is tense as he accepts the call, sure that something must be wrong.

“Captain Tripathi.” He hesitates over the second half of the greeting, and Sana speaks before he can say anything else.

“Campbell, hi.” She sounds well, but Campbell doesn’t relax, sensing bad news in her tone. “Listen, there’s no good way to say this, but… we’re going to have to miss our drop-off.”

“Oh.” Of all the things that Campbell might have thought were coming next, that wasn���t one of them. He knows he should be angry over being left in the lurch by a business partner, about how badly this will put him out, but instead he’s just… disappointed. And concerned. “What’s happening?”

“It’s – hard to go into too much detail right now, but… we’ve got to make an unexpected stop. Something’s come up, and… there’s no way we’re going to be in range of Telemachus for a while. I’m sorry.”

So, not just missing a drop-off, but possibly not making any stops for some time. Campbell is silent for a few moments, absorbing this.

“I know this will put you out in a major way, and I promise that we’ll make it up to you,” Sana says. “You’re our best customer, and we would never bail on you unless it was urgent.”

That’s what concerns me, Campbell thinks. “I… understand,” he says finally. “I’m not going to pretend I like it, but sometimes, that’s just how things are. I can find another supplier for the Scotch. They won’t be you, but…”

“Sorry, again, Campbell. We were… really looking forward to seeing you. Listen, we’ll give you half price on your next shipment. As an apology.”

Somehow, bartering isn’t as fun when Sana is just offering him a lower price – and when she’s doing it as an apology. “We’ll work something out,” he says. “I know you’ve got to keep Krejjh in hot sauce and Arkady in those elaborate hair products she denies using.”

Sana laughs. “Yeah, we might have to ration the hot sauce for a bit, but we’ll survive.” There’s a pause, and then she adds, “I’ll call as soon as I’m able. Let you know when we might be in the area again.”

“Do that. Good luck with… whatever it is that you have to do.”

“Thanks.” For a moment, Sana seems like she’s about to say something else, but then she closes with, “Speak to you soon. Sana Tripathi out.”

–

Campbell doesn’t hear from the Rumor crew for another three weeks after Sana’s call. All told, it’s been nearly four months since they last stopped by on Telemachus. Once upon a time, he would go much longer without seeing or hearing from the crew and not even think about it. But he’s got used to more regular contact – drop-offs every couple of months, and regular calls, sometimes not even about business. He enjoys finding out what the group has been up to, listening to the way that they joke together, the way Sana alternately cajoles and corrals them. How fond she sounds when talking to her crew, her found family.

He’s sure, sometimes, that he hears the same fondness in her voice directed at him. She’s never hesitated to match his banter, and he looks forward to the calls where they haggle over prices, exchanging insults that sound more affectionate than anything. Campbell would hate to cross a line too soon – he doesn’t want to ruin what is also a great business relationship and friendship. But on his calls with Sana, his catch-ups with the crew, their now-regular drinking escapades with ill-advised amounts of moonshine and ridiculous stories… he’s sure that there’s something more there.

He finds himself thinking about Sana at odd moments during the day: dwelling on her voice, her laugh; picturing her smile, her arms, her tattoos. He hopes that she’s safe, that whatever mystery errand took her away from Telemachus wasn’t dangerous. More than once, he’s tempted to put a call through and make sure she’s okay, but he stops himself. Sana said she would call as soon as she was able, and she’s always been a woman of her word.

He brightens when, in the middle of a slow evening, his terminal lights up and his computer intones, “Incoming call from… Sana Tripathi. Incoming call from…”

“Captain Tripathi,” he greets her cheerfully. “You’re alive!”

–

Then, Elion. A body turns up by the landfill. Sana’s accusation.

“In what universe would I turn on you for them?!”

Then they don’t speak for some time.

–

There’s a massive protest happening in the centre of Nestor, the district of Telemachus where Campbell is based. It’s loud enough and vehement enough that Campbell can hear it, just faintly, from where he sits in his cramped office, distractedly going through some accounts.

Normally, the Regime would have deployed riot police by now, violently suppressing the protest and arresting the instigators. But in contrast to how jumpy the IGR had been before, the machinery of the Regime has been oddly absent in recent weeks. As if all its resources are being focused elsewhere. This is the third protest in about ten days – and the largest. He also heard that there’s been some kind of major incident at a Regime lab in New Jupiter – a fire or an explosion or something. He’s willing to bet that it’s just the tip of the iceberg. Something big is going down.

Giving the accounts up as a bad job for now, Campbell dismisses the holographic screen with a wave of his hand and stands up. He needs some air.

Once he’s out of the house, it’s almost impossible to avoid the protest – it seems to be everywhere. Out of sheer morbid curiosity, Campbell walks towards the crowds, his coat collar turned up to obscure the bottom half of his face. Soon he’s close enough to hear some of what they’re shouting.

“THE RUMOR CREW DID NOTHING WRONG!” yells a man nearby, and Campbell’s heart almost stops. “JUSTICE FOR THASIA!” 

“JUSTICE FOR EMILY CRADDOCK!” another voice yells back.

Someone stuffs a leaflet into Campbell’s hand. He looks down at it. It’s a cheap, quickly-printed thing, just black text on off-white paper, and it reads:

WE THE PEOPLE DEMAND A FULL AND TRANSPARENT STATEMENT FROM THE INTERGALACTIC REPUBLIC ABOUT THE DISCLOSURES IN THE RUMOR RECORDINGS OF THE WIDESPREAD USE OF SPY TECHNOLOGY IN PEACETIME ASSASSINATION, ABDUCTION, AND THE INSTIGATION OF AN INTER-SPECIES WAR THE RUMOR CREW DID NOTHING WRONG!

Campbell roughly grabs the shoulder of the man who was shouting nearby. “What are these Rumor recordings?” he demands, brandishing the leaflet.

The man looks alarmed, and Campbell forces his posture to become a bit less “military”. “I’m not one of them,” he says, quickly. “I just want to know what’s happening.”

“They’re all over the public net, man,” says the protestor. The ‘where the hell have you been?’ is strongly implied.

“You should start by listening to Report 1: Violet Liu,” another protestor supplies helpfully.

“Thank you,” says Campbell, and lets go of the man’s shoulder. The man shrugs and rejoins the crowd, chanting,

“JUSTICE FOR ALVY CONNORS! JUSTICE FOR THE CREW OF THE STARSHIP IRIS! YOU CAN’T MAKE A PERSON DISAPPEAR!”

Back at home, Campbell discovers the man was right: the files are all over the net. The IGR is clearly penalising anyone who shares them, and trying to shut down the websites hosting them – his search turns up a lot of dead links and mysteriously deactivated accounts. But there are far too many sources to eradicate them all, short of completely shutting down the public net. Before too long, Campbell has a complete set of the recordings, Reports 1 to 9.

He starts to listen.

The report starts, after the introduction from someone who is clearly an IGR drone, with the panicked voice of a woman who sounds vaguely familiar. Campbell has a good memory for both faces and voices, and he’s sure this woman is the new recruit he’d heard briefly on the call with Sana before the Rumor landed on Elion. It might explain her link to the Rumor crew.

Sure enough, a few minutes later he hears Arkady, using the Kay Grisham alias that he’d made for her, years ago. He recognises the con she’s pulling, a trick that Brian Jeeter grandly refers to as “the Carmen Gambit”. He wonders what was so important about this woman that the Rumor crew went so far out of their way to rescue her. He looks for a timestamp on the recording, but it only shows when the file was uploaded to the public net, which was a few days ago. But Campbell has a feeling this was the reason that the Rumor crew skipped their drop-off in Telemachus.

He wishes that Sana had told him what they were doing. God knows he wouldn’t have been angry about them going to save a person’s life. He wasn’t really angry about it to begin with.

Campbell keeps listening, and learns the real reason for the Rumor crew’s detour: a cryptic message from a friend he thinks Brian might have mentioned once – Alvy Connors, a gifted coder moonlighting as a bartender. Campbell’s sorry to learn about his death. He realises that the protesters had been chanting Alvy’s name – but why would they care so much about this man’s death? Where did these recordings come from?

Two more reports in, and Campbell is starting to put the pieces together to form a horrible picture: how the Regime had known that the Rumor was headed towards Elion. How the crew’s IDs had become compromised. They were listening to every word, he realises. But how?

Sana and Arkady discuss trading with the Fowleys – a particularly low breed of scum that Campbell avoids dealing with if at all possible, but he knows the Rumor crew can’t afford to be that picky – on Elion, and Campbell realises that he must be about to make an appearance in the recordings.

Sure enough, as the group realises that they need new IDs, Sana makes the call. It’s surreal to hear his own voice coming from the computer, and Campbell realises he needs to be very careful from now on. Whatever event caused all these files to be leaked onto the public net, he’s now clearly implicated in it, too. At least the Regime don’t have a visual description, but they have his voice and his location, as well as some details about his contacts. He’ll need to warn Red Gregor.

The exchange between Arkady and Sana in the elevator on Elion makes him cringe. “Did it seem like he was hitting on you?” Ridiculously, he finds himself hoping that Sana will give some indication of how she might feel about that, but instead she expertly turns the conversation around on Arkady. “If we wanna open that door, can I just say that you and—”

“No, that door is shut and locked.”

Campbell thinks about how Arkady talks to Violet Liu, her upbeat mood in response to the other woman’s admiration, and smiles.

Things go downhill quickly after that. Campbell is tense as he listens to the exchange with the guard, the Carmen Gambit once again coming into play. It almost works – until the fatal announcement over the comms that blows the crew’s cover. Campbell reflects that the Regime’s ridiculous, stifling bureaucracy was probably the only thing that kept them from getting caught sooner.

He cringes again as he hears his own call come through, and Sana immediately decline it. He’d been a bit over-eager, calling as soon as he’d got Red Gregor’s message to say that the job had gone off without a hitch – he was really just looking for an excuse to talk to Sana. Clearly, Campbell needs to get a grip.

The recording ends, and Campbell looks at his holo-screen, thinking about what the next recording will surely contain.

“Computer, outside call. Ignatius Campbell to Sana Tripathi.”

“Attempting connection…” the computer intones. “Attempting connection… Attempting connection… Attempting connection… Connection not available.”

He guesses he can’t blame Sana for declining his calls, after everything that he’d said to her before.

Reluctantly, he plays the next recording.

He listens to Violet’s attempts to speak to Arkady, Brian’s theories about the robot nanoswarm, and then Violet and Arkady’s conversation in the kitchen and Arkady’s gift of her mint plant. Campbell feels slightly indignant about the fact that Arkady never let on she was a fellow gardener. They could have exchanged tips!

Finally, he hears Sana accept his call in her room, and the friendly conversation quickly devolve into a tense exchange. He’s replayed that conversation endless times in his head, but it somehow sounds even worse than he remembers. Campbell wasn’t angry at Sana – he wishes he could have explained that somehow. But with everything that had happened, she was in no position to give him the benefit of the doubt. He wishes he could go back in time and��

He doesn’t know.

Then, something unexpected. Another call comes through to Sana’s comm, and she accepts it without waiting to hear the name – but Campbell knows that wasn’t him.

“Campbell, I agree it’s a bad idea for us to talk right now, but I just wanna say that if it was only me, I would probably risk it. The thing is, I can’t, I have to think about my crew, and you—”

Campbell’s heart stutters in his chest. “Computer, outside call,” he says, not bothering to pause the recording. “Ignatius Campbell to Sana Tripathi.”

“Attempting connection… Attempting connection… Attempting connection… Attempting connection… Connection not available.”

Campbell sighs and runs a hand over his face. He’s finally starting to get the picture, and he’s desperate to talk to Sana, to tell her that he understands now. He thinks about the way she’d spoken to ‘him’, the vulnerability in her voice. Damn it, he needs to talk to her. He has to make this right.

A man is speaking on the recording now, and Sana responds to him with anger. Campbell realises that he still has three reports left to go. He’s still far from understanding what has happened and where these recordings came from. The least that he can do is take the time to listen to them and understand what Sana has been going through.

He��s afraid of what the other reports might contain. But he would have known if Sana was hurt or worse – wouldn’t he? Surely Sana would still have come to him for help if she really needed it?

Nothing could have prepared him for the contents of the last three reports: the stunning revelations about Thasia, about why the war began; about the Regime’s use of a sentient swarm of nanobots to spy on dozens of its own people, indiscriminately, in every waking moment. His fists clench, hard enough that his nails dig into the palms of his hands, as he listens to Major General Frederick’s cold declaration that future strains of the nanoswarm will include a ‘kill-switch’. He listens to the sad story of Thasia and their doomed childhood friend, Emily Craddock. He understands now why the crowd had been chanting their names.

The crew’s hours of drunken singalongs and fake ‘confessions’ make him smile, but the smile is quickly wiped from his face as he hears the passage of time at the end of the report. “Two weeks have passed since our last update. As Major General Frederick said, we expect diminishing returns via this swarm of strain H.”

Then, the last few seconds. “Agent McCabe, look out the window!”

“Holy shit—”

Campbell can’t believe the recordings end there. He goes back to the site where he’d downloaded the files, to make sure he hadn’t missed one – but the website has already been taken offline. He scours discussion boards for any scrap of information. All of the commentators agree that there are only nine reports, but they have theories about what might have happened next – linked to the explosion (it definitely was an explosion) on New Jupiter. Odds are, it was the Rumor’s destination. But what happened?

He thinks about the words of the other Violet Liu. “If Plan B fails, not all of you will live long enough for Plan C.” He thinks about Violet coughing, Krejjh coughing, an inexorably deadly swarm of nanobots in the air. The Rumor crew taking one last, defiant, heroic stand because none of them could stand the alternative: to save their own lives at the expense of so many others.

“We have a saying on Telemachus, that when their foot is on your throat, any day breathing is a victory. So, I vote we push our luck.”

Campbell’s breathing is unsteady, and his throat feels tight and painful. He tries to fight down the rising panic in his chest, the voice in his head that fears the worst. Sana is alive. She has to be. He rubs at one eye with the heel of his hand, and it comes away wet.

“Computer,” he chokes out. “Outside call. Ignatius Campbell – to – Sana Tripathi.”

“Attempting connection… Attempting connection… Attempting connection… Attempting connection…”

“Campbell?”

Campbell is so stunned that for several long moments he stares at his computer, at the holo-screen displaying a successful connection, counting up the seconds on their call. “Campbell?” Sana says again. “Is that you?”

“Captain Tripathi,” he manages finally. “You’re…”

“Alive,” finishes Sana, with a smile in her voice.