#also i read your tags afterwards and if u had another vision for this where its a lil while more before they Actually meet lmk...

[shepcdr]

for a while, they tread forward in relative silence — watching, listening, vigilant ... waiting for something to happen. But the facility looks to be in complete lockdown. There's no one in sight, and power supply's been cut off to most areas. It proves more work than necessary to pry their ways through side doors and into sealed rooms, and the search for any resources mildly useful to their main cause is swiftly abandoned in favour of working their way further towards the centre of the base. They might as well get this done fast.

The quiet is broken when something pings on Shepard's omni-tool. He curses under his breath, lifting his arm to examine the thing when Garrus comes to a sudden stop behind him, mirroring his movement. And then Miranda ... wait, all of them?

Shepard turns back to Lawson and Garrus, who exchange several silent glances between themselves before Miranda ( who's best suited to decipher whatever this is — in the case that it was transmitted from somewhere within ) nods, pulling up her omni-tool. He watches her examine the information for a moment before she meets Shepard's gaze with a furrowed brow of her own.

" Someone's transmitted a program to all of our omni-tools. Looks like something meant to obscure our locations. I can't say for sure without activating it, but it was sent from within the base. " Aha. Their suspicions confirmed. " I can't pinpoint from where exactly, not without a few minutes to work at it. "

A program transmitted to them... to obscure their location? Shepard mulls over the revelation, and its implications, for just a moment. " Activate it. "

If she's at all alarmed by his command, she contains the reaction well. Still, her warnings carry the faintest hint of concern: " This could be a ploy by the enemy, Shepard. Do we really want to risk it? "

" If they've managed to patch that through, then they already know we're here. " What's the worst that could happen? Their omni-tools deactivated by some Trojan horse...? That doesn't matter; Shepard's got another means of extracting the data. Given what they've been asked to do here, he's come prepared for any technological sabotage. " Activate it. "

She does so without further protest. But there's no time to observe any unintended consequences as a tremour rocks the floor beneath them, accompanied by the sound of a not so distant blast powerful enough to leave a light ringing in his ears — Shepard stumbles, darting a hand out to brace himself against the wall. They recover quickly enough, turning their heads to peer down the hall they'd been crawling along.

" Sounded like a missile. " Not the most reassuring of thoughts, being trapped in narrow hallways in front of enemies armed with missile launchers. But Garrus is probably right.

" Move out! " M-8 held at the ready, he surges forward and towards the source of the tremour. It's easy enough to track from the yelling and the continuous barrage of gunfire that loudens as they approach. The operatives are scrambling, disorganised, and he can't make out what the hell is going on even as he flattens himself against a wall directly nearby, except that they're thoroughly preoccupied by whatever's in the hall with them — completely unaware that they're about to have company.

Shepard rounds the corner and opens fire.

The Cerberus unit drop like flies. Within seconds, he, Garrus, and Lawson are all that's left upright. ( Maybe the soldier bodily rammed a foot deep into the wall by a blast of biotic power. Sure, they'll count him in. ) " Well. Don't know if that was the jammer at work, or if we're just that good... "

Shepard leaves Garrus to amuse himself with his comedy routine, stepping closer towards the bodies strewn across the floor: all Cerberus operatives, from the looks of it. Either there was some infighting that the Illusive Man hadn't thought to tip them off to, or there was someone else here. ( A third party? Was someone after the same data they'd been sent to retrieve? ) Shepard's eyes slide upwards to the wreckage of jagged metal and exposed ceiling beams where a stretch of ventilation ducts used to run, glancing back and forth between the expanses of galvanised steel on either end of the mess left behind by the missile. A smattering of bullets trailing down on one side, fired up into the underside of the vents, drew his gaze...

There's movement behind him, rifles readied and aimed up towards the ceiling. His squad have caught on. Shepard lifts a hand, motioning quickly for Garrus and Lawson to hold their fire before he calls out:

" Doesn't look like that's working out so well for you. " He strains his ears, but he can't catch any sound from above. He's not even sure whether there's anyone still in there; but if there was, better to draw them out before moving on. " This is Commander Shepard. We're here to shut this place down ... we are armed, but I'm not interested in taking any unnecessary lives — come out, and we won't shoot. "

An  unremarkable existence  has its perks; namely, this moment, the fact that Iris doesn’t think anybody is really going to be too concerned if she’s not among them. Two separate groups for lockdown protocol  ⸺  if anyone remembers her, they’re going to think she’s supposed to be with the others, that’s all. She’s a lab assistant, not the cell’s first line of defense.

Of course, she knows how to defend herself. Really, she’s probably better suited for this, than for taking notes and handling specimens, anyway. She’s alone in the ventilation systems, crawling on as quietly as she can, keeping a mental track of the blueprints of the base. All she had to do was to take a little longer gearing up. What her aim is... well, that’s to be determined. She doesn’t know who’s attacking. In all likelihood, they’ll blow the base up and she will be killed anyway. Honestly, that’s what she’s expecting. At the very least, though  ⸺  at the very least,  she’s not going down as one of them.

She would rather die alone in the vents than fighting for something she wants no part of.

Ever since they had kidnapped the salarian and begun experimenting on a live person, she had been trying to plot a way out. An escape, first and foremost; she thought it’d be delusions of grandeur level to think she could do anything to shut this down on her own, and it’s too dangerous to ask questions enough to determine whether anyone was having the same doubts she did. But at least to not have any part in it... Pushed further and further into what she would consider unethical territory, Iris probably should have come to that conclusion years ago, but it had taken seeing a person (the kidnapped salarian, now dead), brought to the labs for only the purpose of testing species-specific toxins as weapons, for her to open her eyes, for good.

All she had ever wanted was justice for her brother. Now she’s going down with a cell of a xenophobic terrorist organisation.

If she can escape, OK. But, Iris decides, crawling towards the labs in the vents, her omnitool obstructing Cerberus systems from tracking her location, since that can’t happen with her colleagues alive anyway, she’s going to take down as many as she can, herself. It’s not like she can hail a cab out of here; taking control of one of the shuttles is her only chance. She could fly one... in theory. Maybe. But this base needs to be destroyed for her to have that chance.

She positions herself with a visual from the vents towards the bulk of the guards blocking the entrace to the main labs and listens in on their communications, confident enough in her hacking skills that they can’t detect her on the line. Through the guards’ communications, she accesses their data of non-Cerberus entities on the premises. And, almost on a whim, sends the code she uses to obscure her own location through the guards to the systems they’re monitoring. Sure, the guards will notice the data transfer, but they won’t immediately know where it came from and what it’s for; it’s a long shot, but if whoever is attacking are smart enough... they now have access to the program she’s designed to make themselves untrackable.

Maybe it’s if they’re dumb, not if they’re smart, she’s not sure. She could be trying to send a virus.

Maybe it’s a security protocol she’s unaware of, but it takes the guards less time than she’d figured to pinpoint the source (that is, Iris), and she barely has the time to retreat from her position when the missile launcher is pointed directly at her.

She backs off in the narrow space and rolls to cover her head, the spot where she was just lied on her stomach on now a burnt and warped metal hull; there’s smoke, and noises; she bends over herself to turn around, and moves, fast, trying to hold onto any sense of direction.

[keelywolfe]

FIC: Internal Disputes ch.1(baon)

Summary: Something strange is afoot. Edge isn’t sure what, but he can guess he isn’t going to like it.

Tags: Spicyhoney, Kustard, Established Relationships, Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Part of the ‘by any other name’ series.

~~*~~

Read it on AO3

or

Read it here!

~~*~~

The Embassy Cafeteria was in one of the basement levels, far below street level. Of all the rooms in the expansive building, it was one of purely utilitarian functionality. It was also designed to act as a shelter in case of an emergency and until recently, it was a no-frills place for Embassy employees and visitors to have a nutritious, if generally tasteless, meal. Whenever Edge ventured down to it, he always took the stairs back up to his office rather than the elevators. Partly because he enjoyed the exercise but also, few others did. While they crowded into the elevators in an attempt to beat the time clock on their lunches, he was in the mostly empty stairwell, listening to his own echoing footsteps. It gave him a moment to gather his thoughts as he climbed. The past two days were both ones of unusual meals. Not the food itself, but from the company. Last night, Blue joined them for dinner. That wasn’t strictly a strange thing, he did come over on occasion. But usually it was in a group with the others; on his own, he was much more likely to meet Stretch for breakfast or lunch, a private meal shared between brothers. Last night had been different in a way Edge couldn’t really explain. Not awkward, exactly, Blue was always a perfectly mannerly guest and he’d stayed afterward to watch the newest Mettaton special with them, exclaiming about the costumes and eagerly adding the songs to his phone playlist. That alone was strange; Stretch had no fondness for Mettaton and yet, he’d sat watching without complaint. Again, not precisely wrong, but he was unusually attentive, and, to Edge’s hearing, Stretch laughed a little too hard, made a few too many jokes, simply tried a little too hard to be even more of himself than usual. There was obviously something going on, but Edge couldn’t guess at what. Stretch hadn’t brought it up after Blue went home and Edge wasn’t about to, not yet. There were strict unspoken rules when it came to interfering with brothers and unless it began to have an ongoing effect on Stretch, he was going to stay out of it. For now. But he couldn’t pretend he wasn’t concerned. Last night when they made love, there was an underlying hint of desperation to it, Stretch pulling him in close, nearly clinging. Stretch hadn’t fallen asleep quickly afterward like he usually did, not that Edge objected to curling up together while Stretch talked softly, listening more to his husky voice than whatever randomness was flitting through his skull. But it was not their normal and with Stretch, it was good policy to pay attention to changes. In any case, Stretch would either come to terms with it or he’d find a way to lie about it better, Edge thought, a little sourly. Of that he had no doubt. Then there was today’s lunch with Antwan and that was a fonder memory. Normally they met at one of the local restaurants despite the daily protestors that still surrounded the Embassy. The group was dwindling, the Humans either tiring of cruel efforts that made no difference or perhaps the incoming cold weather and snow was putting them off. Still, Monsters were discouraged from walking past them after the incident with Janice, which meant Edge was forced to drive to whatever eatery they chose, no matter how close. Today they’d met in the cafeteria instead and Edge didn’t have a single regret. Since they’d hired Hussain away from the Beanery, hastily done before his work visa could expire, the cafeteria menu was greatly improved, both in quality and variety. Including the coffee. Given a choice between watery tuna salad and the delicious falafel that was served today, Edge was perfectly content with the change. Even the room itself was different. The hardback chairs were exchanged for comfortable, cushioned ones and each table was no graced with a cheery little centerpiece. The Monster who Hussain replaced as manager was only relieved about the job switch and the entire Embassy was taking to their new Human coworker with delight. Honestly, Edge suspected if any government agents tried to deport Hussain, they’d be dealing with a building filled with hostile Monsters, and not only because of their addiction to his butter chicken. And so he and Antwan met in the cafeteria instead of a restaurant, Edge calmly eating his kachumber salad while Antwan took the occasional bite from his plate in between babbling about finally having a real conversation with Jeff about their relationship. It was rather endearing to see and Edge idly wondered if he ever seemed this way when he spoke about Stretch. Antwan wasn’t normally so effusive, usually the epitome of cool, collected lawyer. To see him burbling with his happiness, eagerly in love, and obviously needing someone to share it with was charming. Edge was touched that he was the person Antwan chose. He was also more than a little relieved that whatever his brother had been planning to inflict on their Human friends seemed to have turned out for the best. Red was hardly anyone’s vision of Cupid, any arrows he shot would probably be poison-tipped. Whatever he’d done, Edge supposed it worked somehow, and he was even more grateful that he’d kept out, even if he’d had to physically drag Stretch out of the thick of it. Much as he’d shared his husband’s concern for Jeff, in the end it was none of their business. He and Antwan needed to negotiate their relationship troubles on their own, the same as he and Stretch had. But he was glad to be sitting here today, watching Antwan forget to eat as he talked animatedly, his fork waving so wildly he nearly jabbed a passerby. He was almost as passionate as Stretch. Humans couldn’t manifest their souls the same way Monsters did, but Edge almost thought he could see a glow from Antwan, reflecting his joy. An unusual lunch, to be sure, but well worth attending. At the stair landing, Edge paused and pulled out his phone. Thinking of Stretch put him in the mind of his strangeness the night before, and if his husband was feeling down, Edge could at least offer him a moment of brightness. It was the work of seconds to send his husband a text, I thought happiness started with an H. Why does mine start with U? There was always a risk in sending a pun in a text, visual proof for Stretch’s ongoing campaign to show others that Edge truly did have a sense of humor and that what he called Edge’s ‘Batman impression’ was merely a front. But worth it for the burst of emoticons that came in reply, a wild collection of hearts, flowers, and...was that an eggplant? Hastily followed by a carrot and a chili pepper, hm. Edge didn’t ask, only tucked his phone away and pushed open the door out of the stairwell, heading down the hallway. Janice was already back at her desk when he went into the front office, glancing up from her monitors. “Asgore left a message asking for you to meet with him as soon as possible. I already checked your schedule, you’re clear for most of the afternoon.” “Really?” Edge frowned. That was another strangeness in a day filled with unusuals. Normally Asgore preferred to come to his office, it gave him an opportunity to gladhand anyone he passed along the way, bursting with his normal jovial humor. For him to request Edge to come to him was almost unheard of. But then, Asgore often saw Humans in his office, the mayor, heads of state, visiting politicians. It was regularly swept for listening devices by both Red and Alphys, though Edge suspected what they found mostly belonged to each other. That Asgore wished to speak with him where there were no unsuspecting listeners, even his own brother, gave him an equal measure of curiosity and deep concern. “Please let him know I can meet him within twenty minutes,” Edge said. Janice nodded, already typing, and Edge went into his office. That gave him long enough to brace himself for Asgore’s brand of exuberance.

~~*~~

The moment Edge walked into the office, he was struck with a booming, jovial, “Howdy!” The room was big enough to absorb the sound that would have echoed in any other. Asgore’s office was large, designed to comfortably accommodate a Monster who was considerably larger than most. Set in the innermost sector within the Embassy, structured with extra safety enhancements on top of what the Embassy already possessed. It could double as a safe room, protecting against excruciating temperatures in case of fire, solidly reinforced in case of earthquake or possible terror attack. For all the hidden precautions in the room, it was airy with pale yellow walls and large, cushiony furniture built for the comfort of Monsters and Humans alike. Artwork graced the walls to make up for the lack of windows, mostly Aboveground landscapes, and there were several floral arrangements scattered around the room, likely made by Asgore himself. All in all, Edge preferred the crisp organization of his own office, origami and stuffed chickens notwithstanding. And his garden was meant for home and private enjoyment, not for business associates. “Come in, sit, sit,” Asgore gestured to one of the sofas, choosing to sit on the other opposite of Edge rather than remain behind his desk. Once, Asgore would have reached to clasp Edge’s hand for a shake or perhaps offer him a warm pat on the back, and Edge had accepted it stoically from his King. But Asgore noticed whatever faint signs of discomfort Edge couldn’t disguise from those gestures and ceased them without Edge saying a word, keeping his warm greetings to the verbal. That was a marked difference between Underfell and this world. His other King would have continued for as long as he was able to draw a reaction, no matter how minor. Those were memories best left in the past and Edge focused his attention on this Asgore, ignoring any superficial resemblances. “Good afternoon, your Majesty.” Edge settled onto the sofa, sinking into the too-soft cushions. “What can I help you with?” “Ah, I didn’t ask if you’d like a drink, coffee?” Asgore shifted in his seat, his bulk making the springs groan as he started to stand again. “Or simply water, perhaps?” “No, thank you. You asked me to come?” Edge prompted. A fleeting hint of disappointment crossed Asgore’s face and Edge could never quite fathom it. Asgore was well liked by his subjects for both his unending devotion to his people and the warmth of his personality, and Edge also found him to be a formidable leader. Yet, he was always disappointed when Edge was unwilling to engage in smalltalk past Embassy dealings. They weren’t really friends, Asgore was King and Edge was his subject; it wasn’t in him to offer more. The King would have to seek his companionship from others. “I did, I did,” Asgore agreed heartily. “I needed to speak to you about the upcoming diplomatic envoy traveling about the new embassy being set up in California.” Edge frowned. “That’s still a few months away.” “Indeed, it is,” Asgore said. He folded his hands over his middle, leaning back into the sofa. “and they are planning an extended stay for several weeks. However, there are certain details that still need addressed. We’re sending our team down for what will hopefully be no more than a weekend to finish crossing any t’s or dotting any i’s. You’re aware of how important this is. Not all Monsters are suited to this climate. The winters are miserable for those accustomed to Hotland and this new community is critical.” “I’m perfectly aware of that,” Edge swallowed back a touch of impatience. “But why the secrecy, then?” “It’s not strictly a secret,” Asgore temporized, which only made Edge suspect that it very much was. “Any activity by our diplomats is difficult to conceal. But in this case, we’re trying for as much discretion and as few attendees as possible without compromising on security. Which is why I wanted to speak with you. Sans will of course be going, he’s is very firm on staying with Papyrus. But Red will be unable to accompany them. Security is never as simple as a mere guard for them, as you well know, which is why I want you along.” “Me?” “Yes,” Asgore looked distinctly uncomfortable. “As I said, no extraneous attendees, so it would be just you.” “You’re saying without my husband,” Edge said flatly, refusing to dance around as Asgore seemed determined. “I told him the next time we all traveled, he was coming. I promised him.” He had in fact been preparing for them to travel to California with the diplomats. Edge had traveled several times in the envoys, but Stretch had yet to go anywhere outside the outskirts of Ebott. He wasn’t actually an Embassy employee, all his lab work was strictly off the books and in the past, diplomatic negotiations were delicate enough that sightseers weren’t allowed. In this case, all the contracts were already signed, or so he’d thought. Edge was very much looking forward to watching Stretch have the chance to explore a new city, already planning several outings and eager to see the delight flare in his husband’s eye lights. He’d never seen the ocean, never been to an aquarium, all the different restaurants out there for him to enjoy, even the thrift stores. What Asgore was suggesting would not inspire any emotion as sweet as delight. “Ah, but, that’s when you assumed you wouldn’t be leading the security team,” Asgore pointed out, “We both know you’re far too important to be used for simple brute strength. I've been looking into you being allowed to take the bar exam; even without any formal schooling, you've certainly learned enough human law to be able to pass.” He leaned forward, his broad. furry face serious, “I’m aware that Stretch won’t be happy about not being able to come along, but if you did bring him, you wouldn’t be able to spend any time together. He wouldn’t be allowed to attend any of the meetings and you wouldn't be able to focus on your duties knowing that he was alone at the hotel. You know it's true.” He did, that was the frustrating part. For all his kind, fatherly appearance, beneath the fluff, Asgore had a core of steel. He could be ruthlessly effective when it concerned his people, and while Edge could appreciate it as a necessity for a King, he was less fond when it was turned in his direction. “Everyone else has an important function within the group and I am not saying Stretch isn’t important!" Asgore added quickly before Edge could do more than bristle. "I’m saying he’s a scientist, not a diplomat, and even if we were able to get him clearance quickly enough to work security, would you want him to? It’s only for a couple of days, hardly enough time for a vacation. If negotiations go well, we'll be returning in the next couple months, including Red, and then he can go with you." It all made sense, but picturing Stretch’s hurt and disappointment when Edge told him prompted him to ask, “What about Undyne?” Normally she was head of Asgore’s security team, but surely if it was only a weekend-- “Undyne is unavailable,” Asgore said firmly. If Asgore were a different King, Edge would have accepted that. “Unavailable?” He nodded with a certain soft fondness, “Normally I would keep her secrets, but you deserve an explanation. She’s pregnant.” That shook him, more than Edge would readily admit. She and Alphys married only couple months before he and Stretch. To hear they’d be adding a child to their family was unexpected, though perhaps it shouldn’t be. Undyne was very fond of children, just like Stretch...the sting of a yearning ache in his soul made Edge blink hard and he resolutely pushed it away. This wasn’t the time and he wouldn’t begrudge Undyne and Alphys their happiness for the world. Asgore didn’t seem to notice his momentary lapse, going on, “You’ve helped with planning this new Embassy from the beginning, and there is no one I trust more to guard Toriel and Frisk. I need your help with this.” There was only one answer Edge could give. “Of course, your Majesty.” Asgore smiled broadly. “Excellent! The plane is scheduled out for tonight. If you leave now, you should have time to go home and pack.” The ‘and talk to your husband’ was very much unspoken, but still hung in the air between them. Wonderful. It looked like everything was in place. Now he only needed to inform Stretch. That was certain to go well.

~~*~~

TBC

[lance-mcpain-is-my-mcgain]

One Smoking Hot Mess

Please be careful while reading this, there’s lots of sensitive topics in it, please check the tags, stay safe <3

Lance sighed as he lowered the cigarette from his lips.  He watched the smoke rise up into the overhang.  The college student tossed his head back and pulled his phone out of his back pocket.

Mulletman:  dude, i said i was sorry, get over yourself and come back, youre worrying everyone

Hunklicious:  Lance I’m worried about you where are you

Pidgey:  man ur stressing hunk out come back soon you can chill at my place if u want

Coran Coran le Gorgeous Man: My boy, I’m very worried about you.  I know that Keith said stuff he shouldn’t have said to you, that wasn’t right of him.  But you shouldn’t have ran out on Shiro and Keith like that.  You’re giving everyone quite a scare here, message or call me soon.

Lura:  Lance, Shiro just told me what happened, I’m sorry, wanna meet up and get coffee and talk

Shirno:  Lance I’m sorry about what Keith said he’s not used to this kind of stuff please just come back so we can all talk this out I miss you

With a choppy laugh, Lance slid his phone back into his pocket.  He started going down the street towards the shadier businesses in the back.  The Cuban slipped into an establishment, the bartender glared at him as he made himself towards the bar.  

“You’re new here, what’s a fresh face like you doing here at Galra?”  Lance sighed and brought the cigarette back up to his lips.  The bartender growled and started fixing up a drink, “Rough night?”

Lance scoffed and ashed his cig on a nearby tray, “That’s an understatement.”  Then, as if remembering why he came in here in the first place, Lance asked for the hardest drink possible.  With a harsh cackle, the bartender went on it.

A couple of minutes later, Lance was handed a dark, swirling drink that he finished with two gulps.  The guy sitting next to him whistled and shifted closer, “Not joking around tonight, are we?”  The Cuban put his glass down with a clack and looked over at the fairly attractive male sitting next to him.

“Not in the slightest.”

The man next to him smiled and held his hand out, “Lotor, you?”

“The name’s Lance, hot stuff,” They shook hands and went back to milking their drinks in silence.  Eventually, Lance spoke up again, asking the bartender for another drink.  Beside him, Lotor also requested another, but by name.

“Actually, Sendak, get Lance the same thing I’m getting, make it special,” Lotor cooed, sending shivers down Lance’s spine.  Somewhere, his mind screamed to reject the offer, to go back to his loving boyfriends.  However, it currently told him to be a little shit.

The barkeep, Sendak, placed the drinks down and sneered at Lance before going back to work.  Lotor watched Lance as he chugged his drink, slamming it down once it was finished.  “You certainly aren’t chugging like that just for show, what happened, love?”

The Cuban flinched at the nickname and dramatically fell against his new drinking buddy.  “My boyfriend yelled at me for worrying about my family since they live in Cuba, where the hurricane hit.”  Lance hummed and Lotor slid his drink over to him, the college student took it gratefully.

“That sounds pretty shitty, Cuba got hit pretty hard, didn’t it?  I heard you couldn’t even get in touch with anyone there,” Lotor placed a hand on Lance’s shoulder.  Instead of being comforting, the hand made Lance feel anxious, the need to get out of there growing with every second.

Suddenly, the room started spinning and next thing Lance knew, he was heaving up his lunch in the alleyway.  Lotor was there, rubbing circles into his back and whispering sweet nothings into his ear.  “It’s okay, Lance, you’ll feel much better soon enough, you’ll be just fine with me.”

Lotor’s hands started to sneak to places where they shouldn’t be and stuff started to fizz out.  Lance braced himself on the wall and heard a rough, “Drugged him up nice and well, didn’t I?”  He recognized it as the barkeep’s voice before black flicked his sight on and off.

Everything skipped and jumped around Lance’s vision, but he could remember the blinding pain in his whole back.  When he finally started to come back to life, he was still in the alleyway in someone’s arms.  “He’s awake, Prince Lotor, do you want me to hold him here still?”

Lance didn’t see what happened, but he felt the grip around his shoulders tighten.  “I saw you smoking earlier, dear, now let me help you experience it a different way.”  Lotor’s voice was smooth and deadly and a scream nearly ripped out of Lance’s mouth when something sizzled on his back.

Lotor had set a cigarette out on his back.

He repeated the same action until Lance was reduced to a sobbing mess in Sendak’s arms.  He realized the sky had lightened so Lance guessed it was early morning.  “Do you want to bring this new toy back or leave it here?”

Lotor hummed and lightly trailed his fingers along Lance’s back, stopping at the waistband of the Cuban’s boxers.  “Leave it, let’s go.”  With that, Lance was tossed to the side to watch both Sendak and Lotor leave the alleyway.

Tears welled up in Lance’s eyes and he felt the regret begin to crush him like nothing else.  “You fucking idiot,” The Cuban pulled his pants up and buttoned them up, not bothering to fasten his belt.  He zipped his jacket up to cover his ripped shirt.

Lance managed to take a few steps before collapsing back onto his hands and knees.  Suddenly, a ringing and vibrating came from Lance’s back pocket.  With trembling fingers, the college student pulled his phone out to see spiderweb cracks covering the screen.

Keith’s face was covering the screen.

Without thinking, Lance answered the call and brought the phone up to his ear.  “Lance, oh thank god, you finally picked up!  Where are you?  Are you okay?”

Overwhelmed, Lance began to openly sob into the mic and Keith’s worried voice rang out.  “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Keith, god, please forgive me.”  He repeated those words like a mantra, over and over again until Keith cut him off.

“Shut up, Lance, I already forgive you, it doesn’t matter what you did.  I’m the one in the wrong, I shouldn’t have said that, baby, please tell me where you are.”  Lance would’ve laughed if he wasn’t in indescribable pain, it was rare for Keith to admit he was in the wrong.

Lance could hear worried voices in the background, mainly Shiro and Hunk.  With a shaky exhale, “I’m outside of Galra, in the alleyway.”  Keith inhaled sharply and groaned, Lance couldn’t bite down a bitter chuckle that time.

“Why the fuck would you go there?  Even after everything we’ve heard.  Whatever, I’ll be there as soon as possible.”  With that, the call cut off and Lance tipped his head back.

The Cuban checked out the area he was in to see a used condom nearby, shudders shook his body.  On trembling legs, Lance wobbled out to the entrance of the alleyway to wait for Keith.  He leaned heavily on the brick wall and held back tears that threatened to fall.

In what seemed like seconds, a car pulled up by the curb.  Out of reflex, Lance tensed up, expecting those two to walk out of it.  To his relief, Keith jumped out of the car and raced towards his boyfriend.  Shiro soon followed to help Lance get to the car and inside it.

“What the fuck happened?”  Shiro’s voice was full of anger, Lance knew it wasn’t directed at him, but he still whimpered.  The Japanese apologized and rested his hand on Lance’s back.

However, the Cuban hissed in pain when Shiro rubbed too harshly on one of the burns.  Shiro jerked his hand away, “Sorry, just a little tender, that’s all.”

“You still didn’t answer his question, Lance.”

The college student bit his bottom lip and shook his head.  Tears slipped out of the corner of his eyes without his permission.  Shiro slowly and gently wrapped his arms around Lance in a comforting embrace.

The rest of the ride came in fragments as Lance began to doze off.  He was woken up when they got back to the apartment.  Shiro took him up in his arms and Lance didn’t bother protesting, knowing nothing would come out of it.

“I’m sorry, baby, I shouldn’t have forced you out, I feel so bad.”

Lance waved his hand, dismissing it and hid his face in Shiro’s chest.  The door opened and immediately, “Lance, are you okay?  What happened?”

Hunk and Shiro began talking and everyone ended up leaving except for the one’s who lived there.  Shiro carefully placed his boyfriend onto their bed and Keith sat down next to him with furrowed brows.  Without warning, Keith unzipped Lance’s jacket and after seeing the ripped shirt, hastily went to get the rest of his clothes.

Slipping back into the alleyway, Lance cried out, “Stop it!”  Keith did.  Both Keith and Shiro had pained expressions painted onto their faces.

“Lance, please, tell us what happened.”  Shiro hated bringing out his “dad” voice, but he counted the situation dire enough to use it.

Tears began to flow down Lance’s cheeks as he choked out, “He, Lotor, he, fuck,” Lance doubled over and whispered the rest.  He whispered it loud enough for Shiro to tense up and stand up though.  Keith looked between the two and Shiro told him, flinching as Keith’s face twisted in disgust.

Keith jerked to his feet and leaned forward, getting into Lance’s personal space, “What was his name, what did he look like?”  Keith practically screeched, Shiro stood by with a hand firm over his mouth.

Lance shook his head and sobbed some more, unable to produce any words.  Shiro sighed and sat down next to Lance, “Keith, could you get the first aid kit?”  Keith nodded and went off to find it and Shiro turned back to his boyfriend with a concerned expression.  “Can we help clean you up, baby?”

The Cuban nodded and Shiro helped him undress while Keith came back in with the first-aid kit.  They helped Lance take a bath, clean up, and wrapped bandages around every sore area Lance had.  They had never been more careful before as they worried over their boyfriend.

Afterwards, they laid in bed with Lance in between them.  All three had tears in their eyes.  It would be difficult to get through what happened.  However, Lance knew it would be easier with his two amazing boyfriends by his side.

[gabbygumswrites]

Of Cats and Dogs - A Dan and Phil Fanfiction

Of Cats and Dogs - Chapter 8: The Spider Trap

Fandom: Danisnotonfire and AmazingPhil (Phandom)

Rating: Gen

Tags: Pets, Cats, Dogs, Original Characters, Bromance

Summary: Dan gets roped into taking care of his friend's dog. And somehow Phil manages to get hold of a cat. This can only mean chaos.

AO3 Link

CHAPTER 8: The Spider Trap

Somehow, Dan had managed to survive the Lester-Birthday-Festivities and before he knew it, it was already February.

It had been over two weeks since Dan had posted a search tweet on twitter. Shortly after that, he and Phil had gone to their nearest animal shelter and pet shop to put up notices about Sammy. They even went to the vet after one of their very clever subscribers pointed out that Sammy might have a microchip and they could easily find the owner that way – but there was no microchip to be found. It was really frustrating.

Sara also didn’t have any luck in finding a new owner, but she did point out that she was extremely choosy. She had apologized at least a hundred times about that and had offered to take Ivy back any time. Of course, both Dan and Phil had refused. Dan had tried to tell himself that he didn’t like to go back on his word, but if he was completely honest with himself, he kept Ivy because he liked having her around.

It was weird how normal it had become for him to have a dog and a cat around. He had even gotten used to going out with Ivy three times a day (Phil pitched in as well), and he was actually looking forward to their walks. When he could afford to have a day off, which became more and more difficult as their tour approached, Phil would accompany Dan to go drive out to a bigger park. They would play fetch with Ivy and actually spent more than half an hour outside at a time. At those times, Dan wished that he and Phil lived on the outskirts of London so they could take Ivy somewhere nice more frequently, but she didn’t seem to mind where they were going as long as she got to play outside.

Dan sank back in his office chair and sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. Ivy was snoozing by his feet, while Sammy had decided to take up residency on Phil’s lap. Phil was sitting on the chair next to Dan, his laptop in front of him. He ignored it while he searched for something on his phone. Or maybe he was just scrolling through tumblr. Dan couldn’t quite understand why Phil didn’t just use his laptop to do whatever he was doing, but then again, it was Phil. He rarely made sense.

Dan looked down at the fluffy ball lying at his feet. Ivy was completely dead to the world, her ears twitching from time to time. She was so peaceful, and Dan had gotten so used to her presence that he honestly couldn’t imagine her leaving. He thought about this more and more these days because just a few days ago Sara had texted him that she might have found someone who fit the bill.

Dan looked over at Phil from the corner of his eyes. Phil didn’t know about this. Dan wasn’t all too keen on telling him, either. He could tell that Phil was already way too hung up on Sammy, and Ivy had a special place in his heart, too.

Over the last few weeks, Phil had dropped some very obvious hints about keeping Ivy. Dan wasn’t against having a dog per se, but there were just so many things to keep in mind. The city. The tour. Their lives. Who knew when one of them would meet someone and move out, and then who would keep Ivy?

To Dan, all of these things just sounded like lazy excuses. They could actually work around most difficulties with Ivy there. Even the possibility of them separating could be figured out (but Dan guessed that this wouldn’t happen all too soon for several reasons). He couldn’t really put his finger on why he was unable to say yes to all of this. Maybe it was because Sara had finally found someone, and Dan didn’t want to take away the dog from them? Was it because he was scared?

Dan gave another sigh and sank further into his chair, glaring at his laptop as if it was at fault for not writing the script for his latest video.

“Did you say something?” Phil asked and regarded Dan with a curious glance.

“No,” Dan said and sat up straight again. “I just don’t know what to do about this script.”

“Maybe come back to it later? Have a break?” Phil suggested. He looked back at his phone and absentmindedly patted Sammy’s back. The cat purred and closed its eyes.

“Did you retweet the search tweet?” Dan asked and stood up to flop down on the couch behind them. Ivy stirred, but didn’t get up.

“Just this morning,” Phil said, not taking his eyes off his phone. “Didn’t get anything back.”

Dan pursed his lips and stared at the ceiling. Then he looked back at Phil with furrowed brows. “Aren’t you supposed to write your disstrack?”

“I am writing my disstrack. I’m just taking a little break, that’s all.”

“U-hu,” Dan said, looking back at the ceiling. For some reason, his brain felt empty. Maybe it was still the aftermath of Phil’s birthday get-together the day before. It had been the third one in a row, and Dan hadn’t been able to talk himself out of that one or the ones before. Maybe he should just book a holiday for next year and escape the socializing hell until it was over and celebrate Phil’s birthday with him in peace afterwards. Just the two of them, that would be nice.

As it so often did, Dan’s gaze wandered and fell on Ivy’s sleeping form on the floor. It really didn’t matter what she did, she was always so damn adorable Dan couldn’t really decided whether he wanted to turn into a puddle or scream with joy. He fished his phone out of his pocket and snapped a picture of Ivy. He sent it straight to Sara. After all, he had to keep her updated on Ivy’s well-being.

Dan let his hand fall back on the sofa. He stared back at the ceiling, as if it was able to give him the script he needed. It didn’t, obviously. But it was worth a try.

Maybe he should just get up, move around a bit and while he was at it, get a drink. Hydration was important to keep your brain working. Dan flung himself onto his feet and headed for the door.

“Hey Phil, I’m gonna get myself some water, do you –” Dan started but didn’t finish as he let out a very high-pitched scream and scrambled back to the sofa, startling Phil, Sammy and Ivy.

“A spider!” Dan screamed and jumped on the sofa, waving his hands frantically in the general direction of the door. “Spider!”

The spider was a gigantic, hairy monster that was just casually walking through the door and into the office like it owned the place. At least that’s how Dan saw it. Sometimes he couldn’t be all too sure, as his phobia tended to transform and pull at his vision as soon as he spotted a spider.

Phil had whipped his head around, spotted the spider, squeaked, dropped his phone on the desk and followed Dan onto the sofa. In the process he had dislodged a disgruntled Sammy and almost fell over in his haste to get to Dan.

“Take it away, take it away!” Phil squeaked, gripping Dan’s arm hard and attempting to hide behind Dan’s back.

“No, you do it!” Dan squeaked back, grabbing Phil’s arm and pushing him away. He would not be a human shield between Phil and a fucking spider.

For about two minutes Dan and Phil wrestled on the sofa, trying to push each other in front of themselves. Dan didn’t let his eyes loose sight of the spider, which at some point stopped dead in its tracks, as if to consider which way to go and wreck more havoc.

“Stop it Phil!” Dan said and shoved Phil hard, almost throwing him off the sofa. Phil squealed, his arms flailing in the air to regain his balance. When he was standing upright again, he gave Dan a dirty look.

“You’re the worst friend ever,” Phil declared.

“Shut up!” Dan said without looking away from the spider. “How about we figure out what to do?”

“I’m so not going to get down from this sofa,” Phil said.

“Me neither!” Dan said and finally looked up at Phil.

Phil crossed his arms in front of his chest and glared at Dan. “You know exactly what that means.”

“You can’t be serious! We can’t rock-paper-sicssors about this!”

“Yes we can! How else are we supposed to ever get down from the sofa?”

Dan mirrored Phil’s stance and hissed angrily, “I am an arachnophobic, I just can’t, Phil!”

“I’m afraid of spiders, too!”

“I’m more afraid of spiders than you!”

“No, you aren’t!”

“Yes, I am!”

“Twice that!”

Dan stomped his foot, which elicited an ominous cracking sound from the sofa. “That’s so unfair! I listed my fear of spiders in TABINOF while you talked about horses!” Dan gave Phil an evil grin. “How about you pick up the spider and I promise to remove any stray horse from your sight should we encounter one?”

Phil stomped his foot, too, and the sofa cracked again. “Not fair! We don’t leave the house often enough to actually meet any horses!”

“Nothing’s impossible!” Dan shouted.

“I think you are a crap friend!” Phil shouted back.

Before Dan could retort something really nasty, Ivy barked. He whipped his head around to see her standing over the spider, looking from it back to Dan and Phil on the sofa. The spider was completely frozen. A bit to the side stood Sammy, regarding the spider warily.

For a moment, everyone was still. Dan held his breath. Then, Ivy extended a curious paw to poke the spider. Before her paw could even so much as touch it, the spider scrambled backwards. Ivy jumped and gave an angry bark. Phil squeaked again. Dan couldn’t help but jump as well as soon as he saw the spider move. He could feel his heart rate pick up in speed, and he felt a faint nausea in the pit of his stomach.

The spider stumbled towards the nearest wall which happened to be the one next to the desk.

It definitely wants to hide, Dan thought, and oh fucking hell, if it got behind the desk they would never be able to get it out there.

Dan’s gaze fell on Sammy who had, as soon as the spider had started moving again, ducked. He was watching the spider’s every move narrowly, but he didn’t move so much as an inch. Ivy was still barking, and Dan was torn about what to do. Someone had to do something, but he felt like he was glued to the sofa, his knees shaking from the mere thought of getting near that thing.

Suddenly there was a flurry of movement, and it all happened at the same time; to his left, Phil jumped down from the sofa, stalking towards the desk; Sammy leaped on top of the spider, and Ivy pounced on it, too.

Dan heard Phil gasp as he fell back a little. They both watched their pets’ flailing limbs. Dan couldn’t make out what happened until Ivy stepped back and gave him a good view of Sammy.

Sammy was lying on the floor, his paws on the spider, which looked pretty dead to Dan from where he stood. It at least seemed a lot flatter than before. Dan could barely make out the tips of its legs poking out from under Sammy’s paw.

And then Sammy leaned forward and swallowed the spider in one gulp. Dan and Phil gasped in disgust and Dan averted his gaze. He really couldn’t watch Sammy chewing on that thing.

Dan sank down on the sofa, shaking all over. He took in a deep breath and counted each inhale and exhale to calm his racing heart. It was over, the spider was gone for good, and all would be fine. Dan knew, however, that he would obsessively check his surroundings for more spiders for the rest of the day. Working on his script at all was not going to happen today. Great.

“Are you okay?” Phil asked. Dan looked up at Phil, who regarded him anxiously. “You look a bit pale.”

“I’m fine,” Dan said through gritted teeth. He looked away from Phil and spotted Ivy, who was walking over to him with her tail wagging.

“Who’s a good girl?” Dan cooed and patted Ivy on the head. “Who saved me from the big scary spider? Yes, you did!”

Dan grabbed Ivy and cradled her to his chest. She licked him once across his right cheek and allowed him to just hold her. Her soft fur and warm little body immediately calmed Dan down. He buried his nose in her fur and just breathed.

“You know, Sammy helped, too,” Phil said.

“I’ll thank him after his snack,” Dan said. He closed his eyes. He didn’t want to see or hear anything right now.

“You know, I was about to go and do something about the spider,” Phil pointed out.

“And you decided to do that after you tried to bully me into doing it even though you are well aware that I’m terrified of spiders?” Dan snarled. He looked up to give Phil his dirtiest look. Phil did have the decency to look ashamed.

“And it was uncalled for to call me a crap friend,” Dan mumbled and buried his face in Ivy’s fur again. Ivy gave a little huff and lay her head on Dan’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” Phil said. “I didn’t mean it. I was just so scared myself.”

Dan grumbled, but didn’t look up. He was actually angry with Phil this time.

“I’ll make you some tea,” Phil said and rushed out of the room.

Dan stayed on the sofa with Ivy, counting his inhales. At some point, Sammy decided to jumped up to lay down next to Dan. He sprawled out and yawned, lying down to take what Dan presumed to be a digestive nap.

Only when Dan felt his heartbeat slow down, he leaned back and let Ivy lie across his lap. He couldn’t keep his eyes from scanning every corner of the room for more spiders. He continued to do that until Phil came back into the office, carrying two mugs and a packet of hobnobs.

Dan wordlessly took the offered mug and sipped it. He refused to look at Phil.

Phil sat next to Dan and sipped his own tea. They both said nothing for a while.

“I sometimes forget how bad it is for you,” Phil said eventually.

“Hm.”

“I’m really sorry.”

“Hm.”

“Like, actually, really, deeply, sorry.”

“...”

“Can you ever forgive me, Daniel?”

Dan sighed at Phil’s overly theatrical voice. He was sure that Phil had also pulled all registers by whipping out his best puppy-dog eyes.

And sure enough, when Dan turned to look at Phil, his friend was giving him his best wounded-puppy-look. Dan rolled his eyes at him, but couldn’t stop himself from smiling. “Alright, alright, it’s fine, just stop looking at me like that!”

Phil turned to sip on his tea, a smug smile on his face. Dan rolled his eyes again. Phil really was impossible.

“Did you know that spiders have to pump blood into their legs to be able to move?” Phil asked out of the blue.

“No,” Dan said, wrinkling his nose in disgust. “I don’t think I really wanted to know that.”

“It’s like their having a mini-errection every time they move a leg!”

“Ew, Phil!”

Phil just laughed at Dan’s outraged expression. Dan couldn’t help but join in, but not after giving his friend a playful slap on the shoulder. “Where the hell do you get facts like that?”

“A podcast,” Phil said, idly patting Sammy on the head.

Dan looked down at the cat lying between himself and Phil. Dan was glad that all the remainders of the spider were safe in Sammy’s tummy and not on the floor or his face. Dan raised his hand and scratched Sammy behind the ears. Sammy instantly went into purring-mode, and- Dan smiled down at his tiny savior. Ivy raised her head in curiosity, but stayed put on Dan’s lap.

Right at that moment Dan couldn’t help but hope that Sammy actually didn’t have a previous owner. And that Sara would be unable to find a new owner for Ivy.

Dan sat there, patting Sammy and smiling to himself. He was completely happy with everyone and the world.

Phil coughed. “Dan?”

Dan looked up to see Phil looking at his phone with an unreadable expression.

“What is it?”

“Sammy’s owner found us.”