#also is her blood clear? if she's hurt or dead will they even be able to find her? what if she can't talk?

[hpgal]

DC x DP : Those Glowing Green Eyes

CW: Blood, Gunshot Wounds, Violence

TLDR: Danny is on the run from the GIW and ends up in Gotham heavily injured where he gets found by a gun wielding vigilante.

Word Count: 2313

Everything hurts.

But when did it not?

But this time it wasn’t just injury number 67942 causing these aches and pains, though it did contribute to it. The mental anguish of being ran out of my own home and turned away by those I loved. Because I was a ghost. That pain was worse than the wound in my side.

Now the GIW is chasing me across the country and my last scuffle with them left me hurt worse than ever. They’ve been pushing hard this time around, new toys, more numbers. It was ridiculous. Seeing my own family there made me hesitate when they jumped me too. I didn’t react, just stared in horror as my own mother aimed a gun at me and my own father cheered her on.

Despite it all, I am still convinced there is hope. That there was. But when she pulled that trigger, all hope was gone. 

Now, that leads me to the present. Somehow I escaped and now was walking around with a gunshot wound in my side, a bum wrist and I think a head wound in an unknown city. Thank The Ancients for the luck I had with a portal to The Ghost Zone being nearby. I fell through it but had to immediately find another door to the mortal realm when I saw Vlad nearby, who has also been hunting me since this began. 

So here I am, in a dark, dank city. The ectoplasm here is toxic as hell and tastes like multiple smokers' houses smashed together and death. Night was falling and it got cold here fast. That could just be my core or it could be that I am slowly bleeding out. That was unclear at the moment.

Either way, I walked the street looking for shelter, mostly ignored by others or simply stared at. Honestly, I did not mind, I didn’t want the attention. Even with the toxic ectoplasm here I could heal up quickly and bounce back to the Ghost Zone to expel the toxicity of it with the help of the feeder ghosts and be good as new. It was abundant here, not nearly as much as Amity Park but it was a close second. That little fact told me this city reeked of death which meant it was probably also dangerous.

Maybe once this whole my parents and the government trying to murder me passes, I could come back here and purge the toxic ectoplasm as Ghost King. Because that is the only thing left for me to do, become Ghost King since my human life seems to be over. I have no clue what there is left for me to do with everyone I loved and the U.S Government wanting me dead

Too bad I can’t fully exercise that power of King until I come of age next year. I could’ve resolved this and just hid in the Ghost Zone for the rest of my undead life. Vlad wouldn’t be able to touch me then. Curse my stupid half alive and half dead existence, no other ghost would’ve had to wait but the council likes to be a pain in my ass. Probably in spite of Clockwork in all honesty, I half joke to myself.

My mind reels as I think about home, my friends, even Vlad. All of them had turned overnight. Even Jazz, though she showed hesitancy at every turn. Their eyes seemed to have a tinge of red when I saw them attack me for the first time, reminding me of Freakshow and his mind control abilities. That was the only thing I could justify holding out hope. But I didn’t see that in my moms eyes this time when she shot me.

Even Vlad switched from the whole crazed rich fruit-loop routine of trying to make me his son to attempts on my life. By the Ancients, if he were there this last attack and not in the Ghost Zone, I would’ve been dead. I had no doubts about it. It was pure luck that he didn't notice me in the zone.

I grimace as I continue walking, holding my side, warm blood seeping through my white shirt and the bandages I put on it already. My vision and mind feel foggy as I turn a corner, instantly clearing for a moment when my ghost sense activates, sending a shiver down my spine, hair standing on the back of my neck.

Now?

Really?

I nearly groan both in pain and frustration at this change. I look around pissed off only to find a guy in a red helmet across the street. My entire being on edge as I see him. He didn’t look like a ghost but he gave the impression of having an association with ghosts. He had higher ectoplasm in his body than normal. Even more so than most Amity Park citizens. For a second I thought I saw the flicker of a core but just as quickly as I saw it, it goes away. 

Could he possibly be possessed?

The gears turn in my head as everything screams at me that he is bad news regardless. The moment this masked man steps towards me, I muster all the energy I can and start to run, my decision being made. There was no way I could fight in this condition. Every inch of my body, my muscles scream at me for this. My side burns and my vision is blurry at best.

I risk a glance back to see him following and pick up speed. Grateful for my inhuman abilities still being of use despite my injured state. It’d be easy to go ghost or phase through a wall on a normal day but this was not normal, even for me. There are so many ways I could lose this guy but no, I keep running, oblivious to anything except the urge to escape this new, unknown threat.

Him following me all but confirms my suspicions that he is bad news. I mean I saw those guns on his side. They could be loaded with anti-ghost bullets. I’ve been shot once today, I do not plan on doing that again. Ever. He has to be a hired gun by the GIW is the only explanation to this.

At some point in the chase, I look back to see he is managing to keep up with me, which in hindsight made so much sense with my injuries. I turn right only to find this was the wrong choice. Because of course that would be my luck today. I screech to a halt, nearly crashing to meet the dead end head on, a brick wall separating me from escaping. I lean against the wall in frustration before turning to see if he was in the alley yet.

I could just phase- ”Demon brat what have I told you about stepping in my turf?” Damnit.

I am so tired. I am trapped. I am injured. This day just freaking sucks.

I glare at him with as much intensity I can muster. If only I could use my powers, scare him away. Now that he was closer it was clear he was a human who experienced death. Not a ghost. Not a halfa like him, just a human. But if he did that then the GIW would be sure to find me again in no time. And the stranger called me a demon brat. That has to be some sort of slur to ghosts, although I am not familiar with slurs for ghosts. Is that even a thing?

I shake the thought away and focus on him. I look him up and down, taking in his appearance and movements, ready to fight back.

Despite the mask covering his face, I could feel this stranger looking at him up and down despite it being dark. Maybe his mask had some sort of night vision built into it. He was assessing and judging him. And I was doing the same to him between the glares, my superhuman night vision letting me miss nothing in this dark space.

He looked like what I imagined a human vigilante would look like. Except 10 times scarier like he wouldn’t care if he helped civilians or not. Maybe this guy was just here for an adrenaline rush or some other bullshit reason a normal human would act like this. The red mask was intimidating, he was well built and tense, ready to pounce on him like I was on him. Except he wasn’t fighting death itself right now so he for sure would win without me using powers. Maybe he is a hired gun by the GIW with how he is sizing me up.

The vigilante takes a step towards me, “Woah, woah, you're bleeding.” he seems to hesitate but I glare back up to him like a feral animal. This had to be a trick right? The care and concern in his voice wasn’t real.

I backed up against the cool brick wall behind me, sinking into a low stance, ready to jump and fight back. I let the wall support me where it could and where it couldn't, I sucked it up with gritted teeth. I had faced worse before. If I died here I’d probably become a full ghost anyways so I could haunt his ass for the rest of his life, exercising the full power of Ghost King just to be petty for the inconvenience. Serves him right for the scary vigilante routine. Too bad for him, I am scarier and I would not fall for cheap tricks.

I try to make myself as intimidating as possible. Hell, the blood seeping from my head and how ready I was to fight probably made me look like a feral, wounded, animal right now. I mean that is what everyone else thought I was anyways, right? I bare my teeth at him, my canines most definitely unnaturally pointed.

“Seriously, kid? Two can play this game.” The man takes a step closer, I watch, calculating. 

Then his eyes glowed green.

At least that had to be what happened under the mask. I felt the surge of ectoplasm being used when it happened and I snarl at him in response. This would be a harder fight than I thought. How did I miss the ectoplasm tainting him, enhancing him this way? The fact he could willingly do it meant he was trained and well versed in his abilities.

Well shit.

He seems taken aback at my response, not expecting me to not be frightened. Well tough luck buddy. “I can do that too.” I say with venom dripping off my tongue between gritted teeth, not willing to let this guy get the best of me.

I look up at what I presume are his eyes based on his mask and allow my own eyes to flare neon green, brighter than his. A show of power and dominance that some ghosts use to avoid a fight. Maybe I could avoid this fight entirely if he had the innate understanding many liminal beings had when experiencing this with or without knowing what it means. Either way it was clear he knew something.

“I have been hunted, shot, maimed, and tortured by much, much worse.” I threaten. “You do not scare me. And I sure as hell am not going to go down to a nobody like you.” My vision  continues to blur and darken at the edges as the adrenaline from the chase starts to wear down, the rapid heart rate pumping my blood much faster than I need it to be to prevent blood loss as more blood seeps from my wounds. That little trick took more energy from me than I anticipated.

The unknown man looks at me, his body language indicating he was confused and concerned. I nearly wanted to laugh but I needed all the energy in case I had to fight. “Shit.. you’re not Demon Brat. Kid,” he starts, his body relaxing ever so slightly, “you need help, let me help you.”

The man takes another step forward, holstering a pistol. When did he draw that to begin with?

I flash my eyes again, a bit weaker this time as I feel my legs start to buckle under me. No. Not now. I can’t go down now. Panic welling up inside me as I growl at him and try to steady myself against the wall.

“Go away,” I muster, throat dry, “this isn’t your problem.” I manage to say as my last attempts to get him to screw off.

The man takes another step towards him, now in arms reach, “Look, I know a doctor who might be able to help you. She-” I stumble a bit and he reaches out ready to catch me, still keeping from touching me, “Shit- kid. She won’t turn you away. She can help. She doesn’t share the identity of her patients. She treats the Bats. You can trust her if not me”

My body shakes at his words. Or maybe I was shaking the entire time. God it was so cold now. Almost as cold as being dead for real. And man do I have experience with that. My entire body felt so heavy and aches everywhere. It was almost peaceful, in a way. Except I hated how dark my vision had gotten and blurred.

Something about how he speaks and acts, I decide in my haste, wanting to not die a second time to trust him. My body relaxes, no longer ready to fight him. Was it a bad idea? Probably but I did not want to die in an alley this time. My vision darkens and the last thing I remember is falling into his arms as my answer to him.

Please help me, stranger.

--------

A/N: This was a fic I planned on writing but got burnt out after writing the first chapter so I figured I'd post it here, maybe it'll motivate me to continue it.

[fanfic-obsessed]

Secret Brothers

I have been thinking about a Demon Twins DCxDP crossover, specifically one where absolutely everybody is confused.  Also Ra’s is the Asshole. 

Let’s take a walk.

Damian and Dante(Danny) were twins, raised together, trained together, and loved each other deeply. Talia, though not the best of parents by most measures, does love her children.  The twins are raised as assassins and were extremely effective when teamed together. So effective that Ra’s Al Ghul decided that together they were a threat. He decides that Damian is the preferred twin and heir.

At age nine, almost exactly, Ra’s sends Dante out with another Assassin, who has orders to kill Dante.  The results of this attempt leaves Dante wandering around Northern Arizona to be found by the Fentons (who were on a road trip), with head trauma that means that the only thing Dante remembers is that his name starts with DAN. Talia and Damian believe that Dante was murdered and his body stolen by parties unknown and decide to hunt down Dante’s murderer.  Ra’s, believing Dante dead, allows it for several weeks before deciding that he did not want his daughter and his heir obsessed with an inconsequential spare. So he has a strong magical spell cast on anyone who would have known Dante in the league, hiding and disguising their memories. 

Eight years pass, Damian and Danny are 17. Damian has been living with Bruce since he was 10 and still does not remember he has a twin. Talia still does not remember that she had two sons. 

Dante, now Danny,  still has no clear memories from before he was found by the Fentons. Even the accident with the portal did not bring back those memories.  By the time we start, he has already come out to his parents about being Phantom (in admittedly the most traumatizing way for the Fenton parents as possible-He, Tucker, and Sam sat them down and showed them the full raw security tapes of the accident before telling them anything. Jack and Maddie may be oblivious and obsessive but they are very intelligent. They realized almost immediately what it meant that their portal opened with Danny inside, even before he was spit out a blackened corpse who healed into Phantom). 

This is a good Fenton Parents, who not only took the half ghost realization well but also immediately became a bit obsessed with not only lab safety, as one of their inventions had killed one of their children, but also with understanding ghost culture. They also immediately started manufacturing weapons for ghosts to use against the GIW(The Fentons are 100%, ride or die, enthusiastic at all times and in this one the moment they realize that there were people hurting Danny…they were ready to rip the GIW apart molecule by molecule).  Phantom has also connected with the Justice League, joined the Justice League Dark, who were able to get the Anti Ecto Acts reversed. The Justice League as a whole knows that Phantom is a half ghost, half human King of the Infinite Realms whose civilian name is Danny Fenton but Batman, nor any of his kids, has not had the opportunity to meet Danny out of uniform, as it were.  Batman and Red Hood know and Trust Phantom, as he has also helped with the Pit Rage (The Lazarus Pits are corrupted Ectoplasm for the win).

Which brings us to our start. 

It’s a pretty basic premise. A Cult (14 people present) decides to summon the Ghost King for power.  When Danny was first crowned he set his summoning, but really didn’t want it to be an open season on summonings. So one of his ‘ingredients’ is a drop of family blood (not specifying if it had to be those he considered family, or blood family) with provisions in place so that Danny would be able to tell if it was being forcibly taken or not through the summoning spell. The cult captures the Batfam and uses Damian’s blood to summon the Ghost King. Who arrives, a little confused. 

He’s even more confused when he sees Batman and Co tied up. Ghost King Phantom peers at Batman, not even paying any attention to the cultist. “Did you call?”

Batman grunts a no and jerks his head to the cultist.

Phantom redirects his focus back to the head Cultist who starts to do a grand speech about glorious power. Phantom interrupts him to ask “How did you get my summoning?”

The Head Cultist lights up with pride, “I have a spell that was able to transcribe your summoning, we used another to make sure we got the right ingredients.”

After a little bit of back and forth the Cultist admit that none of them actually understand the language that they used to summon Ghost King Phantom, nor do they know why they needed the ingredients they did.  Ghost King Phantom pinches the bridge of his nose as he laments that cultists have gotten so damned stupid. Phantom asks each cultist what they hoped to get out of this: 1-13 said they wanted power (in reality the head cultist had a hyperfixation on using the spells he used to transcribe the summoning and gather the ingredients and wanted to see what would happen), number 14 was paid to be there; Number 14 was also a little pissed that the people paying her were not doing basic research so that they knew who or what they were summoning. The Cult thought 14 would be an auspicious number. 

Phantom, now curious, takes a brief interlude (after restraining the other 13) to get more information on 14. She was given $200,000 to be part of the circle. She had a magically binding agreement saying that her soul was not to be offered as payment, that there would be a 5 year moratorium on destroying any planet she happened to be on, and that she could not be targeted directly or indirectly by the cult after they gained power. She was also a former Pre Law Student with an interest in contract law. 

Phantom recruits her for Justice League Dark, even going as far as calling Zatanna down to take her back to the Watchtower.  After she was gone he turned back to still tied up Batfam to apologize. He went to say that Constantine had agreed to go to therapy if they could find a way to fix his Contract/Soul issues, of which there were so many (some of the pieces of his soul had been sold multiple times, other were sold as a larger piece then resold by Constantine in smaller pieces while the contracts for the larger pieces were still active, a half dozen of the ‘your soul belongs to me after death’ type contracts had defaulted on the demon's side before they defaulted on Constantine’s side, one piece of Constantine’s soul-in theory a downpayment on a contract- may or may not have been straight up stolen, then sold by a metaphysical fence three dimensions over and might be in the soul equivalent of The British Art Museum) and that Phantoms sister has been eagerly waiting to study Constantine psyche under a microscope. So a Pre Law student with an interest in contract law was too good a find to pass up. 

After untying the Bat fam, Phantom turns to Batman and says that Phantom really does need to figure out how the idiot cultists managed to summon him, so he needed the cultists for a bit to go over what exactly they did and said but after that they could be arrested.  One of the remaining cultists, not the head cultist, objected to being sent to prison. Without missing a beat Phantom shrugged and said he could throw anyone who objected into a hell dimension for a while, clarifying a while could be anywhere from three days to the heat death of the universe. 

The cultists were more cooperative after that. 

Red Robin suggested that the Bats stay too, since it was also in their best interest to figure out how Damian managed to be an ingredient in Phantom’s summoning.  

Phantom goes over every step of the preparation, the spell to know the ingredients, the spell to transcribe the summoning, and the words themselves all the while sighing every so often in irritation at the downward spiral of cultists in general. 

Despite a cacophony of errors including but not limited to:

 -Mixing the ingredients for the ‘paint’, which the instructions specifically said to mix on site and only as needed, early and storing it in one of the cultists bedrooms (Phantom:...you know that mix is highly hallucinogenic, right?/Cultist: Is that why I’ve been followed by a pink bunny for the last three days?/ Phantom<sighing>:Yes, that is why you have been followed by a pink bunny for the last three days) 

-Adding additional runes to the summoning circle, specifically the runes for sacrificing someone (Cultists: The picture of all the other circles had those rune, we figured it was a typo/ Phantom: it wasn’t)

-Inverting one of the added runes, which switched the party receiving the power and the party being sacrificed (Phantom: Because of those runes, I am able to eat all your souls for the purpose of powering Batman and his entourage/Batman:Please don’t, they all give me enough headaches without getting powers/Phantom:looks like you are all in luck.)

Despite these errors the summoning actually worked exactly as intended. So Robin makes the suggestion that they must have some sort of blood relation.  Phantom shrugs and says that he always thought he was an orphan. One of the birds goes “Thought?”. Phantom smiles sheepishly and says that his sister thinks that Phantom escaped from a cult, but that he has no memories prior to being found by his parents at age 9. He also wonders how closely related he would have to be to someone to show up as family.

An offer is made to go to the Batcave and check with a DNA test to see how closely related they are, which Phantom accepts. On the way there Spoiler asks how one gets a Half Ghost. 

Phantom, who is very blase about Death having a near Danny experience, says: Well, you take a 14 year old idiot, yours truly, put him in what he thought was a non working portal to the realm of the dead, add in an accident that caused him to hit the on button that was inexplicably on the inside. And I do mean inexplicably, to this day my parents still don’t know why they put the on button there. It turns out having a portal to the dead open on top of and through you has some really weird side effects.   

This is a slightly worrying answer but frankly masked heroes/vigilantes don’t have a great grasp on normal anyway and Phantom assures them that his parents got much better about lab safety afterwards.  This dovetails into a very casual discussion between everyone about what everyone thought was the most painful way to die and which kind of events sucked the most to live through. 

They get back to the Batcave and Phantom transforms back into Danny (to get the most accurate comparison. Phantom's blood is mainly ectoplasm which would mess with the DNA test, Danny’s blood still has ectoplasm but much less).  Everyone stares at Danny, before Nightwing makes a joke about Robin and Danny sharing a face.  

At the minor cajoling of Nightwing, supported by Agent A, the Bat Fam unmasks. Danny blinks at them and says to Damian ‘Hey, we do share a face.’

They start the blood test. Everyone is taking bets on how close they are related and from what side. This is all still very casual, very much an air of ‘what a weird coincidence’. 

The blood test comes back twins. Everyone looks at the test, then back at Danny and Damian, then back at the test. Without needing any discussion Bruce runs the test again, despite the fact that the visual clues do indicate it was correct the first time.  It still says Twins. 

Damian is both baffled and a little offended. He did not know he had a twin out there. In theory, if Danny left the League at 9 Damian should have some memories of him. Most of the Bat fam thinks this is another case of Talia being a lying asshole.  Cass peers at both Danny and Damian, and signs that something feels strange about the lack of memory (Oracle puts forth the idea that it’s possible they were raised apart in the league. Damian is sure his mother would have told him if he had a twin).  At some point magical memory manipulation is brought up and they contact Zatanna (masks having been put back on, though Danny remains in human form), who comes down gushing about the 14th cultist, whose name was Rachel, who was already plowing through Constantine contracts and already found a clause that would let Constantine reclaim one of the shards of his soul.  

Zatanna is able to find the spell that hid the memories of Danny in Damian's mind.  She warns that it looks like it affected more than Damian and breaking it would remove it from everyone who was affected. Damian looked for Danny’s permission first (as they did not know who or why the spell was cast- it could have been for Danny’s protection). Danny gave the ok and Zatanna removed the spell. She left quickly so that the Bats and birds would feel comfortable showing their identities again.

The effect was immediate. Damian went pale and teary eyed (due to the spell he was never able to process the ‘death’ of his brother, basically the trauma spent the last eight years festering under the spell) and whispered ‘Dante?’ before lunging to pull his twin close. Jason was a little dazed (he had a few memories of seeing the demon twins together, at a distance). Danny, whose amnesia was not because of the spell, was unaffected but still hugged Damian, who was now clutching at his brother and crying. 

Far away Talia sat straight up from a sound sleep. Her mind flooded with memories of her precious second son. The son who was murdered and has remained unavenged for 8 years. She quickly made arrangements to head toward New Jersey, she would stop and see Damian and invite him on a hunt. 

It becomes clear quickly that Danny would be staying in the manor for at least the night, Damian did not want to let go of him.  He calls his parents and gives them a brief rundown of the situation (was summoned by weird cultist, found blood family-a twin brother and a father, twin brother was bespelled to forget he had a brother and breaking the spell had made him clingy, would be staying in Gotham for a bit). 

His parents run through a Jazz created set of call and response code phrases to make sure that Danny, and now his brother, were not being held by the cult they presume Danny escaped from. After Danny gives the all clear phrases, Maddie asks to speak with his Biological Father.   

Danny hands the phone over to Bruce, where Maddie cheerfully tells him that He and his entire family would be bringing Danny back to Amity Park on Sunday (it was a Thursday, but it was also summer so Danny could stay for a few days) and staying for dinner, that Maddie, Jack, and Jazz all had some concerns about Danny’s condition when he had been found, that any of Danny’s siblings (making it clear that this also included anyone Damian considered a sibling) were now one of her children as well and if Bruce was or became a threat to any of her children Maddie would kill him, and should Bruce pass her vibe check they could discuss shared custody of the children.  Then, without changing tone, asks how many she should be expecting for dinner on Sunday. 

Bruce answers and hands the phone back to Danny, reminding himself that he had gone toe to toe with actual Gods, he should not be intimidated by a cheerful voice on a phone. He is also trying not to think about the fact that he had acquired yet another child he had not known about. Not to mention running through everything that Phantom had ever told him and trying to stave off several retroactive panic attacks.

It takes a bit but they get Damian calmed enough that they are able to get everyone upstairs, where Danny ends up sharing with Damian (who is still working through eight years of trauma and panics if Danny is not right there). 

On Friday, Talia gets in contact with Damian about hunting Dante’s murderer down. Once Damian assures Danny that Talia was not his murderer (as he could now remember them hunting for Dante’s murderer and their combined grief) and did love him, Danny was willing to meet with Talia.  The Bat fam insist on going with the twins to meet with their biological mother. 

Talia takes Danny being there about the same as Damian did.  Not even Bruce had ever seen her cry before.  She, in her own way, practically begged to be allowed to stay in Gotham with her sons for a bit. Bruce agreed and arranged that she would also go with them to Amity Park to meet Danny’s family. It also takes Talia about 45 second of thought, now that she is not blinded by rage and grief,  to realize that the only person who could have arranged Dante’s murder would have been her Father, and that he was probably the one responsible for their magical memory loss as well.  Tim might have his issues with Talia, but he actually hated Ra’s more; they started scheming together to help Talia and Damian express their displeasure over his actions.

I do want to note, Danny does not start getting memories of being Dante. Those memories are gone as a result of head injury and trauma. While both Talia and Damian would prefer if Danny remembered them, they are so pleased that he is actually alive, as it were, that they are not pushing him.   

When they bring Danny back to Amity Park that Sunday, Jack and Maddie greet all of the ‘kids’ (Dick, Jason, Tim, Damian, Cass, Duke, Steph, Barbara) with specialized weapons, non lethal but will knock out a human quickly  and customized to each child's preferred weapon, hugs, and the family Fudge recipe (which they also give to Alfred) for each of them. Plus gear to prevent being overshadowed and an offer to upgrade all of their current armor and gear.  Talia and Maddie, after a quiet heart to heart, got along frighteningly well (there is a brief discussion about Ra’s and Maddie increasingly creative threats). Jack gets in loud, delighted conversations with each of his new children, somehow finding a special interest for each of them to ask questions about.  Damian is able to step away from Danny for a bit to get into a discussion with Sam, in which everyone decides that they did NOT actually hear the two of them planning some kind of eco terrorism campaign that would end with Lex Luthor broken and crying on the ground.  Tucker and Barbara are enthusiastically talking about hacking while Tucker promises to introduce her and Tim to Technus, who would be a huge fan. Jazz is chomping at the bit to put together psyche profiles for each of them so she can be the best sibling possible. 

At some point Vlad comes in (he had mellowed out once he, Jack, and Maddie got together. It turns out he had been pining for both of them but convinced himself it was only Maddie) and booms that he needs to come meet his brother Bruce. Vlad, knowing exactly how Jack can be, sighs a little and asks how long Bruce Wayne has been his brother. Jack responds cheerfully since he brought Danny back and they realized he was Danny Biological father (Maddie had not asked Bruces name nor any identifying information during her threatening phone call. Jazz despaired).

I think it would be very funny, after the trope of Batman/Bruces Adoption thing, that the entire bat fam is forcibly but cheerfully adopted by the small mid western family, their close friends, and a very haunted town.

[suuuupernovaaa]

Summary: Azriel thought his love was dead.

Warnings: Mentions of violence, torture, blood.

Alive, his shadows whisper to him. She’s alive.

His wings cannot carry him there fast enough. Snow and ice tear at his skin as he flies over Velaris, and sweeps in through Rhysand and Feyre’s front door.

His chest heaves with strangled breaths as he lands in the foyer. “Where is she?” he demands, rough and loud, even though he can’t see anyone. He hears them upstairs, rushing around and whispering.

“Your room, come,” Feyre says, appearing at the top of the stairs, her eyes frantic and her dress bloodied. He clears the large staircase in three bounds, and follows passes Feyre in the hall.

His feet come to a halt at the entrance to his room, and he takes in the sight of her lying on the bed. Two healers attend to her, one on each side.

Her hair, normally so gold it nearly glows, is matted and dark with dirt and blood. There are wounds everywhere, cuts and scrapes on her pale face, exposed neck and arms, and her dress, the same one she was wearing when she disappeared two weeks ago, is dirty and torn.

She’s missing fingernails, part of her right ear is cut clean off, and blood drips from her nose.

Her chest rises and falls - alive, but asleep. He falls to his knees at the end of the bed, and weeps.

—

As I drift slowly towards consciousness, I expect to wake up in the same place that I have been since I was taken. A dungeon, cold and wet, strapped to stone table that is soaked with my blood and the blood of the poor souls before me.

Soon after I wake, he’ll return, with knives and chains and instruments of torture, and he’ll remain until I drift off again.

As the light begins to fill my eyes, I brace myself for his footsteps.

But they don’t come.

Beneath me is not unyielding stone, but a soft bed. Gone is the scent of blood, and I hear no screams.

I smell home. I smell him.

My eyes open slowly, and I’m so tired I can barely do it, but I need to see if it’s true.

He whispers my name when my eyes finally open, and I slowly turn my head to see him there, sitting next to our bed.

For two weeks, I did not cry. I endured in silence, unwilling to give my captors the satisfaction, picturing the very golden eyes that stare into mine now when it got very hard to stay still.

One look at the devastation in my mate’s eyes is my undoing, and I let out a choked sob as the tears begin to flow.

He’s upon me then, pulling me gently into his arms, and I grip him as tightly as I can.

“You’re safe. You’re safe with me, with us now,” he whispers to me, and I feel his shadows enveloping us, as if to hide me from any further danger. Welcome back, they seem to whisper.

It takes a long time before I stop crying and take inventory of my injuries. “How long have I been out?”

“Two days.”

My body feels okay. Sore, very tired, but I don’t feel anything broken beyond repair. At least, physically.

I reach up to touch my right ear, missing its pointed tip. “Ouch,” I hiss as my fingers brush the bandage.

“I’m so sorry. I’m… so sorry,” Azriel says, and I shush him in an instant.

“Absolutely not. I’ll never blame you and I won’t be able to heal if you’re blaming yourself. Do you hear me?” I glare at him, and he glances over my body once, pain deep in his eyes. “Do you?”

He meets my eyes and nods. “Yes.”

“Good. Now please, help me stand up.”

He makes to protest, and I lift my hand.

“I was not allowed to walk or even stand the entire time. I’ll walk now. Just for a moment.”

He supports me then, a grim expression on his face as he helps me into a sitting position, then standing. It hurts, but also feels so good to use my muscles this way. I groan, leaning on Azriel’s strong form for support.

Through the bond, I can feel how scared and exhausted he is. I want to tell him to lay down, to rest, but I’ve known my mate long enough to know he won’t.

We emerge from his room out into the hall, and I gesture towards the library down the hall. It has a large balcony where I can breathe fresh air, and it’s a short walk.

My legs feel stronger with every step, and when the cool night air hits me, I take in a deep breath, savoring the freshness of it. I close my eyes and let my chest fill with it over and over.

“The air in the dungeon was so stale. It smelled rotten, of piss and death. If you’d let me, I’d sleep on this balcony tonight.” I look over at Azriel, whose face is hardened.

“You need to heal, in a soft bed,” he replies.

I smile. “I know. Maybe camping, when I feel better.”

He nods curtly, and I lean my head on his shoulder. I feel his guilt then, deep and painful, as his shadows creep out to wrap around me as if to offer support.

“You need to process your feelings, Azriel. Work through them and release them. You are not to blame for what happened to me, and I need your help to heal myself.”

He looks down at me, almost startled by my words, and a shadow crosses his expression once more.

“I thought I’d lost you,” he replies simply, his voice thick with emotion.

I reach up and cup his cheek, trying not to grimace at the missing fingernails on my hand. They’ll grow back.

“I was not ready to leave you. They could have broken me, if I hadn’t had you to return to. Thinking of being with you again is all that kept me going. Without even being there, you saved me.”

He closes his eyes and presses his cheek into my palm, and a single tear escapes and slides down his golden-brown cheek.

I press a soft kiss to his lips, and he sweeps me up into his arms bridal style, and carries me back to bed.

Tomorrow, I’ll greet everyone else. I’ll thank them for saving me. I’ll cry and hug my family.

Tonight, I’ll sleep safely in the arms of my mate, wrapped in warm shadows.

[deeppenguinstudent]

Raven elodie would be absolutely brutally sad in my imagination I fear.

Like imagine, when Jean gets marked, elodie is brought along tetsuji, and she's made to play under Jean like how jean did to Thea (so the media runs wild since riko and Kevin were considered half brothers and Jean and elodie full siblings are playing on court together in the future.)

She's trained under a senior dealer, but Edgar Allen doesn't let her stay in evermore because of her age. Anyways, once she finally reaches the line up or she essentially just joins Edgar, she resides in evermore. [The age thing does not make sense, but omg, please bear with me]. She's trained to be a dealer.

Feel like she would hate every Raven, Kevin included. Her body hurts, and her legs scream, but she doesn't care. As long as her brother is next to her. But one day, riko makes the backliners hold her down and watch what he does to Jean when she gets extra mouthy. She looks to Kevin at the side and watches him stand there with his eyes to the ground.

Why weren't they helping him? Her brother is gasping for air as the cloth hits his face, her brother is biting his lip as riko carves into his skin over and over. She watches Kevin try to pick up the pieces but she shoves him away and asks him to get the fuck away.

Her brother, the brother that used to hold her close when the children didn't want to play with her and tell her that the only friend she ever needed was him since the rest were all losers for not befriending her. Her brother, who always stood in front of her, once their father's whip struck and shielded her, was once again protecting her from monsters; abnormal people that only wanted to hurt.

She slowly cleans him up, and she retches as he teaches her how to stitch up his open wounds. They sleep together in the same bed that day, Jean crying because he doesn't want this life for her and elodie sobbing because she can't bear to watch people torment her brother any longer.

So she gets better. Zane and Grayson have been eyeing her since she came to evermore, mainly because she is probably going to be the next perfect court member, and they are angry. She allows the nasty scowls and the jibes from Grayson directed to Jean but steps in between when it gets gangrene. It's stupid she knows because both of them are 19 and look much more powerful than her undeveloped 15 year old self but she stares him down.

When kevin leaves, everything goes for worse. Rikos moods are temperamental, and none of the Ravens dare question the king. Elodie works until her body drops from exhaustion each and every night; she doesn't need to try this hard, she knows, but every mistake she makes, Jean will be punished for it and she couldn't afford that.

Riko even compliments her for once in practice as she manages to guard the defence better than grayson and he jokes and says she might be able to play beside her brother in perfect court and be a backliner instead of a dealer. This leaves grayson more furious than ever. Zane also stares at them with a sense of vexation.

She doesn't get it, really. She doesn't get it until Colleen whispers something soft into her ears, telling her to hurry up. She doesn't get it until she's pounding on the door of their shared room begging to be let in when she hears her brothers pained cries and pleas. She finally gets it when she sees Grayson with a blissed out expression and his zipper down as he whispers to her to get her whore brother cleaned up.

She slams the door behind her and places a chair in front of it. There, on the ground, she sees Jean. His eyes are dead, and no light is in them as he stares blankly at the wall. His thighs are dirtied with blood and cum and elodie feels like puking. His neck has numerous bitemarks, and his hips were bruised, and she systematically carries him to the bathroom and runs the water.

The water changes from clear to red as he soaks himself, and he looks her into the eyes, his cheeks stained with tears and mouth bitten red.

"You should have left with Kevin."

Elodie recalls the amount of punishment they both endured and her heart sobs with the implication that he thought she would leave him here to die under the hands of these monsters. She tries to smile but everything has been knocked of her, she can't see a future - she doesn't even know whether she'll be able to keep that last ember of desire to keep going burning until tomorrow.

But she has Jean and Jean has her. Nobody would understand him as well as she and vice versa. She would rebuild her brother piece by piece and give him pieces of her that have been carved out by Riko, snatched by the Ravens and willingly given to Kevin by Jean.

I like to imagine that Elodie is more outspoken, a dangerous piece on the board that's cunningly smart. She works around situations, and she knows how to trip up her teammates to be the best. She knows what it takes, and her determination is her strong point. While Jean was a survivor, elodie would be an analyser. She knows how to get under people's skin, she puts on a mask to be liked by the Ravens, and there's undoubtedly sure she would do anything to protect her brother.

So when she sees Andrew holding Jean's hand in a vice grip, she pushes him hard, under the hoax of oh, I'm sorry I had to get my shoe. When she sees Kevin again, she stares him down cold and doesn't let Jean reply to him opting to speak to him instead.

I have so many ideas for Raven elodie but I think it mainly stemmed from the audio, she's my sister and she's no bitch but I am tbh

[clockwork-ashes]

Day 1 - Bonds | Bargains

Note: happy eris week and thank you to @erisweekofficial for all the amazing activities following up to today!!! i have been so excited :) it’s my first time participating in this event 👑

Summary: Eris would never have been able to let Beron harm Lucien, their bond as brothers was strong from the start (one-shot). Read also on Ao3 <3

The room was dark, thick curtains pulled to block out the last rays of the quickly setting sun. Any candles that had been lit had gone out hours ago, and the only light in the large space came from dancing flames within the fireplace. 

Eris ran a hand through his hair, stopping to tug on the short strands at the nape of his neck. Fingers tangled in the loose curls as he shook his head. 

The silence in the room was heavy, broken like a fragile piece of glass at the sound of the baby’s small whine. Eris did not move, and neither did the Lady of Autumn. 

His youngest brother seemed to be on the verge of tears, a tiny fist pushing past the cocoon of his blankets. Eris watched carefully, could hardly stand to look at his mother anyway. He bit the inside of his cheek, tasting the sharp and all too familiar tang of his own blood. 

Eris shook his head once more, running his tongue over his teeth. “I won’t do it.” 

His mother flinched, his words like the crack of a whip. He almost felt guilty.

A moment passed and Eris waited for her to respond. She inched closer, her pale hand shaking as she placed it on his arm. She breathed in, and he felt the warmth of her touch through his thin shirt. “Your father might listen—”

Eris turned away sharply so that his mother was left reaching out. Her hand hovered in the space between them, his anger a wave crashing over him. “When has he ever listened?” He snapped, more harsh than was perhaps necessary, waving an arm towards the doors leading into the empty corridor. 

Eris knew his father had stormed out after the baby had been born. He could still feel the choking remnants of the High Lord’s magic in the air. There had been no shouts, no tense conversation, and yet everything was startlingly clear.   

The Lady of Autumn bit her lip, hugging her middle, curling in on herself in defeat. 

“I won’t bargain with you,” Eris declared. 

A vow sealed in blood. 

The only ones that mattered in the ancient Autumn Court, one that his mother had suggested without considering the consequences. 

“That you would ask,” he nodded once in disbelief. The Lady of Autumn looked small, the weight of the world on her slim shoulders. Eris continued, unable to stop himself. “He’ll be dead before the sun rises, and you want me to do what?” He kept his voice quiet, no louder than a whispered hiss. He was not about to get in Beron’s way, not after his mother had admitted to having an affair behind his back. It was, after all, impossible to hide now that the child had been born. 

You should have told me. 

The accusation was on the tip of his tongue. He wondered if he had known the truth, what he might have done differently, what he might be more willing to do on her behalf. The nails of his hand cut into the flesh of his palms. 

“He is your brother,” she started, although she sounded broken, seemingly not even able to convince herself of the fact. 

“Barely,” Eris growled, wanting to hurt her feelings, if even a little. The flames in the fireplace switched from a warm orange to a flaring white. 

Eris only realised he had been too loud when the child in the crib began to cry. Both he and his mother turned sharply, pulled by the sound. 

“Could you try and settle him?” The Lady of Autumn said softly. If Eris had not known her better, he might have assumed she was tired. He had learned at her side how easy it was to get the things he wanted, to carefully twist emotion, and to plant the smallest seed of a thought where nothing had been before.   

Eris sighed, the breath he released harsh. He looked down at his mother, his frown a reflection of her own. He walked slowly to the crib, losing a tiny piece of his resolve with every step. The child reached out, chubby hands raised to the sky, face scrunched as his crying reached an ear shattering pitch. 

Eris carefully took the baby and the bundle of blankets into his arms. While he adjusted his grip, his mother approached. 

“His neck,” she mumbled, the warning quiet. 

Eris cast a withering glance in her direction, each of his gestures practised. It had not been that long since he had held another one of his brothers. He gently rocked the baby, tension leaving his shoulders as the cries became hiccups. 

Eris hummed his approval as the child settled. “He's very small,” he said absently.

His mother stood by his elbow, her head tilted. Some of her curls had escaped the confines of their braid, they twisted around her pointed ears. “I haven’t chosen a name yet,” she admitted. 

Eris’s eyes flicked to her for a moment, but he stayed silent, choosing instead to adjust the blanket around the child. 

“I chose your name, as well.” She offered, close enough to Eris that she was nearly touching him. 

Eris had not known. He had simply assumed that the High Lord had named them all. There was a part of him that was secretly glad. “Father wants him dead. Seems a bit unfair to give him a name.” 

“Everyone needs a name,” she murmured. Lifting a slender hand, she ran her fingers over the auburn hair on the little boy’s head. 

Eris bit his lip as he watched, love blooming bright as sunlight over his mother’s sharp features. “What were you thinking?” He breathed, silently begging her to answer. To put herself in such a complicated situation, to risk Beron’s wrath when she should have known it would never have ended well. There was no doubt in his mind that there would be consequences. “What were you thinking?” He repeated himself, voice steady the second time. 

“I’m stuck between Cassander and Rupert,” the Lady of Autumn replied. 

Eris felt as his mouth fell open in surprise. 

The names. 

She would not answer, he figured, and he was not about to push her. ”Cassander and Rupert,” he mumbled. He had to hold back a wince as he looked down at the child, deciding that he did not particularly care for either option. He hummed, the action causing a low rumble in his chest.  

At the sound, the baby opened his eyes. They were shining, golden flecks glowing like embers in their russet depths. 

Eris raised a brow, before he threw his own potential name into the pool of options. He had briefly forgotten the fate that awaited the child, had dropped his guard. “What about Lucien?” 

The Lady of Autumn nodded, considering. “It does have a nice ring to it.” She placed her hands out, clearly wanting to hold the tiny creature in her arms once more. As soon as Eris passed the child to her, he felt a chill run up his spine. “Little Lucien,” she cooed. 

Eris felt the knot of a phantom rope tightening around his neck. 

Lucien Vanserra. 

The name knocked against his skull, put into his mind, unshakable now that it was there. He made sure his face was one without expression, urging himself to act like he was made of stone. He turned on his heel without speaking. 

The Lady of Autumn did not move, staying rooted to her spot. “Eris,” she called, ”Eris, please, reconsider—”

Eris almost stumbled into the door frame as he faced his mother. There were tears in her eyes, crystal bright as they fell over the curve of her cheekbones. He leaned onto the wooden arch, the bark rough against his back. He raised a hand, drawing her to a stop. “No bargains.” 

The sob broke free from her lips, anguished. She said nothing more, and Eris knew she would not resort to begging. 

“I’ll speak with father,” he brought his fingers to the bridge of his nose. Eyes clenched shut, he needed a moment to simply think. Eris could spin it all to his favour, could twist and turn things around so that he could ultimately do as he wished. 

The Lady of Autumn choked on a sob, this time in relief. With one final glance at his little brother, Eris winnowed in a flurry of falling embers, Lucien’s cries echoing in his mind.  

[cantfightmoonlight]

@lunarcovestarters

Option A: Leyla

TW Blood

Shit. A shaky breath left her lips as she placed the heavy bucket of soap and water down with the thud. Every muscle in her body was begging her to curl up into a tiny little ball, to pull the covers as high as they would go and stay in bed for the next eternity, or even worse, do what the Selvi's did best- run without ever daring to look back. Her best friend was in the hospital thanks to her biological sister who, from the not so subtle message sprawled across the windows of her coffee shop, had used Aiyla's own blood to write it. She felt she was going to be sick, but rather than letting herself break down into tears, Leyla did the only thing else she knew how to do. She threw herself into task, scrubbing away at the horror scene of vandalism before her rather than let anyone feel the gut-wrenching sensation that she currently did. She had gotten nearly all of it but 'think again' cleared up before she felt the presence of someone behind her. "Fu-dge," She jumped, spinning around on her feet to catch the other's glance. "You scared me," Leyla mumbled out, ringing out the sponge in her hand and trying her best not to wrinkle her nose too much as she watched the blood run down her hands into the bucket.

Option B: Jasmine

"Mhm," Jas winced slightly as she rubbed her sore wrists. The metallic cuffs glistening in the sun almost could be mistaken as a fashion choice. Almost, except for the fact that they were latched onto her skin. The distinct and ancient charms cut off any access she had to her magic. Now, as she sipped her cup of coffee, attempting to reschedule all of the ghost tours the Seen It Route was having this week, the cuffs, besides the relatively hefty weight for bracelets, weren't much of a bother. They were clunky, for sure, but they no longer hurt. Though, the immediate pain she had felt when they had been placed on still lingered in her thoughts along with the fact that for the first time in weeks, the world seemed silent. While, she hadn't exactly been looking forward to paying the cost for something she had done over six months ago, she'd be lying if the fact she couldn't be harassed by the dead or overwhelmed by the coven's judgements that she had 'gotten off scott-free' while Rohan had not, had been nice. And now, hopefully, her name wouldn't be able to be thrown around as a weapon against her sister, the Supreme, or her boyfriend, the Alpha's character. The only problem remained, how the hell was she going to rebook five different tours and how many refunds was she going to have to give? A groan slipped out as she rubbed at her temples. "Who knew scheduling would be so complicated."

Option C

PTSD, Depression tw

Meena sat at the end of the bar. It was one of the first times she had sat, period, after the past few days. Aaliyah was finally healed up and headed back home. The emptiness in her house was hardly lost on her. Her eyes drained of even the slightest hint of a spark as she milked the glass of wine in hand. Her thumb and forefinger swirling the stem back and forth as if she was completely and utterly memorized by the red liquor. She was more angry than anyone could possibly imagine. The Catalyst had hurt her own and one who was older and, by proxy, physically stronger than even she was. But, on top of ever fiber of her being being filled with rage, she also felt entirely drained. The typical curve of her lips, her signature smirk, was no where to be found. Instead, the clan leader was entirely and utterly numb. Too exhausted to even bother to fake it anymore. It wasn't until someone slide into the open seat beside her that she finally took a moment to glance up. "I'd say care to join me, but I take it you already have?"

Option D: Elif

"Oh hey, come in, come in. Please make yourself comfortable," She assured them as she ushered her next client into her office. She'd be lying if she said business hadn't been slow recently, which one likely wouldn't expect with a therapist's office given how much had been going on in town these days. From the attacks to a witch getting their magic stripped to a death curse, you would think, now, more than ever, her scheduled would be booked solid. But, instead, the office almost felt like a ghost town. As if people were too afraid to attempt to start to process what they had collectively gone through, let alone talk about it. The chill in the air these days was unsettling to say the least. But, thankfully, there was one brave soul who had come to see her today and maybe that alone was hope.

[newtthetranswriter]

Delayed Mark

Word count: 5539

Paring: Choso x Gn! Reader

Summary: In a world with soulmates you were the only one born without a mark. After 25 years thinking you will never have a soulmate, your mark randomly appears. Only a few weeks later you find your soulmate during one of the worst curse attacks Jujutsu Sorcerers have seen since the Night parade of a hundred Demons.

Warnings: Spoilers for Choso’s character and history in general, slight spoilers for Kenjaku, Mentions of blood and death, if i missed anything let me know.

A/n: Hello people this has been in the works for a long time but finally got inspiration to finish it. The end might seem a bit rushed but I wanted to finally post it. So you aren’t surprised one satosugu is canon, Shoko x Haibara is real and you can fight me on it. Anyway I hope you enjoy and Remember to Hydrate or Diedrate, I’m looking at you @ness-iness . Also requests are open. MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT

    I had to be the least lucky person alive. In a world where everyone has a mark on their body to tell them who their soulmate is, I was born without one. It's extremely rare for something like this to happen. No one knows why or how it happened. But when I was born it was evident that I was unmarked, destined to spend forever alone.

When I was younger it wasn't that bad because I didn't fully understand what it meant. Then when I reached middle school and all my friends started meeting their soulmates, I felt left out. My parents tried to tell me that 'maybe it will show up later' or that 'there is someone out there for you even if you don't have a mark.' They even went as far as to say I didn't need a soulmate to be happy. I wanted to believe them but in our world it can be hard, with happy soulmates everywhere you look.

    It became even more apparent when I entered highschool and transferred to Jujutsu Tech. Though the number of people around was small, it was clear that everyone had a soulmate. It felt like fate was rubbing it in my face that I was to be forever alone. And I accepted that I didn't need a soulmate to be happy. Even though I had accepted it, there were still people trying to tell me that having a soulmate was the best thing. I was growing tired of it, until I got to know two fellow sorcerers who had lost their soulmates and believed that even without them they can find a way to be happy.

    There's Saturo Gojo, a special grade sorcerer who's soulmate turned his back on sorcerers and set out to wipe out all non-sorcerers. During an attack on Tokyo and Kyoto, his soulmate was killed trying to attack the first years at Jujutsu Tech. Gojo viewed soulmates as pointless because even though he had one and lost him he was still able to be happy with his life. 

    Then there's Shoko, she was a third year at Jujutsu Tech when her soulmate was killed on a mission he was sent on. It hurt her greatly when she couldn't save him, especially because she is known for using reverse curse technique. She thought while soulmates could be an amazing thing, it was also painful when you lost them and thought maybe things would be better without them.

    Don't get me wrong, Gojo and Shoko both loved their soulmates and wouldn't change having met them. They just thought it could be more painful than what it's worth. I agree, having a soulmate must be wonderful but I don't have one so all I've experienced is the pain of watching others be happy with something I can't have. And so Me, Gojo, and Shoko all tried to make the best of everything. We focused on exercising curses and teaching the next generations of Jujutsu Sorcerers.

    I'm like an assistant teacher to Gojo, helping out the first years when he's out on missions and just helping with training in general. I would also sometimes help the second years if they needed it. 

    Right now I am accompanying the first years on a mission to investigate strange deaths. Three people were found dead just inside their homes or apartment buildings, after having reported odd happenings with the locks or door mechanisms. This fact led the higher ups to believe that it was the work of a cursed spirit and sent the first years to figure it out. I was there to make sure none of them died, instructions from Gojo after what happened with the curse womb at the juvenile detention center.

    We were currently at Megumi's old middle school, talking with faculty about the men who had died, as they had also attended the school in their youth. I wasn't really focused on the conversation as I was there as more of a body guard then an actual assistant for the first years. I felt it best to let them take care of the questions and figure everything out so they could learn for future experiences.

    While Kugisaki and Itadori were poking fun at Megumi for how he used to act in middle school, I started to feel a weird tingling sensation on my left wrist. It was strange, almost like pins and needles. I tried rubbing my wrist to get the feeling to go away but it wasn't working, when I looked at it there was nothing there. 

    After a few minutes of the weird feeling it went away. I was confused as nothing like this had ever happened before. But seeing as there was no evidence that it happened I brushed it off, if it was important there would be evidence that it happened.

    The three students had found out that all of the victims had gone to the same bridge together back when they were in middle school. So they decided to go try and investigate, to see if they could lure out the cursed spirit.

    I had joined them at the bridge as I didn't want to risk the curse showing up without me there. As the three tried different things like walking under the bridge, and even throwing Itadori over the side tied to a string (this nearly gave me a heart attack), to lure out the curse, I stood watch. I was completely focused on watching Kugisaki and Megumi pulling Itadori up, so it startled me that my wrist started to feel weird again.

    At first it was just pins and needles like before, but then it started to burn a little bit. I lifted my wrist to investigate and was shocked to see a small picture forming on the inside of my wrist. It looked like a drop of water based on the outline. I watched as it became more visible, slowly turning to a blood red color. I was extremely perplexed, what the hell is happening, I thought to myself. I was so focused on the mark that I didn't notice the three teenagers walking up to me.

    "Hey Y/n, nothing's happening. Maybe there's another connection or we missed something." Itadori said nearly bouncing over to me. As he got closer he noticed I wasn't paying attention to him. "What are you looking at? Get a scratch or something?" He asked, drawing the attention of the other two.

    Megumi leaned over to take a look at my wrist, also confused as to what had me so distracted. "Holy shit" I heard him mutter as he came to the same conclusion that I was still trying to wrap my head around. "When did that show up?" He asked, confusing his classmates.

    "I-it just showed up. I was just standing here watching you three to make sure nothing happened and my wrist started to tingle and then burn. After that it just slowly appeared." I explained what little I knew about the situation. "Why would this show up now, I've gone my whole life without it being there why is it here now. I was fine and happy without having to worry about it." I started ranting.

    Kegusaki looked at me confused before finally asking the question that perplexed her and Itadori. "What are you talking about and why does Fushiguro know about it?" 

    Knowing I was probably feeling too many emotions to explain anything, Megumi spoke up. "It's complicated and right here probably isn't the best place to explain it." We then met up with our diver at a small convenience store. I had almost completely shut down from the sudden appearance of my soul mark.

    While we were at the convenience store the first years were still trying to figure out what to do to trigger the curse. After a few minutes of getting nowhere Kugesaki got tired of the topic of conversation.

    "We are getting nowhere with this. Let's change the topic for a second." The redhead said, turning to me. "What's up with you? What happened while we were on the bridge?" She was confused yet curious as to what happened. Sure she was being a little pushy about it but that's how she is.

    Megumi moved in front of me to try and deflect the questions, and get back to the assignment. "Let's focus on the curse that's killing people, Kugesaki." As he said this Kugesaki rolled her eyes.

    "Come on Fushiguro, they're here to supervise and make sure none of us die. If their so thrown off by what ever happened, we all need to be made aware." She said making a valid point.

    As Megumi tried to say something else I put my hand on his shoulder and stepped forward. He looked at me concerned but he knew that I wouldn't say anything I didn't want to. "What happened on the bridge that threw me off is, my soul mark appeared. I've lived 25 years without one and was fully prepared to live without it. I don't know what caused it to suddenly appear because if I had a soulmate it would have been there when I was born. I'm still able to watch over you guys, it just startled me." I explained hopefully calming their nerves. "I'm not worried about it, it's probably nothing. Let's just focus on figuring out what's going on with this cursed spirit." Itadori nodded but still looked confused and Kugesaki looked pleased with the explanation.

    As I finished explaining what happened, one of the students from the middle school pulled up on a bike with a young woman asking to talk to Megumi about the weird deaths. The young woman explained that there was a sort of ritual to go out to the bridge. She had also informed Megumi that his sister had done the test of courage as well. Being even more determined to stop this curse, with his sister’s life at stake, we all headed back to the bridge.

    After doing the steps to summon the curse, it seemed we had entered the curse’s domain. As the students began to fight the curse a strange green round curse appeared behind us. When the initial confusion wore off, Itadori offered to take the hideous curse on by himself while the other two delta with bridges curse.

    While the two fights occurred Kugisaki was forced close to the edge of the barrier. I watched in shock as two hands reached through and pulled her out of the barrier. The green curse exclaimed something about his brother being there and rushed out of the barrier. Megumi took charge of the situation and ordered Itadori to go after the curse and assist Kugisaki. I would have stepped in but I had an odd feeling about the curses outside of the barrier. Like in some distant way they weren’t normal curses. I couldn’t react. 

    I was only able to watch as Megumi was able to finish off the cursed spirit that was cursing people. The only problem was the barrier didn’t dissipate. As I was about to ask if he was sure he finished exercising the curse, a more humanoid curse fell from the ceiling. Taking a defensive stance ready to take on the curse, as it appeared to be a much higher grade than the previous curse. Megumi stepped in front of me.

    “I’ll handle this, You were only sent here to keep us from dying. You just wait, if it looks like I’m done, go ahead and step in. It’s not a good idea for you to be using your cursed energy for battle right now.” He said summoning Demon Dog: Totality to help him in the fight. He made a good point, my cursed technique was better for defense and recovery. I could create a simple barrier around myself or someone else that was similar to Gojo’s infinity, but could still be broken with enough force. I am also able to use the reversed curse technique on others, not as efficiently as Shoko but still enough to keep someone on death's door from dying while waiting for Shoko. It made sense for me to wait, my techniques took a lot of energy, and the few offensive abilities I had were not suited for close combat. So I watched waiting for a moment that I would be needed.

    The fight between the special grade and Megumi went on for a while. There were a few points where I almost jumped into the fight but was stopped by the admittedly over confident teenager. Eventually he was able to exercise the curse and retrieve Sukana’s finger. He collapsed shortly after as the barrier disappeared around us. I immediately went to work healing his more major injuries, as he eventually passed out on the ground.

    A few minutes after the dark haired teen passed out the other two students hobbled on to the scene. “Oh my god, is he dead?” Itadori asked, looking at his friend passed out on the ground. This comment received a smack to the back of his head from Kugisaki as she quickly explained he was probably passed out and that I wouldn’t have let him die. He then noticed the cursed object sitting on the ground not far from Megumi and went to pick it up. “Do you want me to carry this since you’re busy healing Fushiguro?” He asked. As I was about to tell him he could as long as he didn’t eat it, a mouth formed on the palm of his hand consuming the finger. 

    I rolled my eyes as he started to defend himself, trying to explain it was Sukana who did that and he didn’t mean too. “It’s fine, Itadori. Next time I’ll just carry it. Now help me get Megumi up and back to the road.” I said moving to stand up, deciding it was time we head back to Jujutsu tech.

    It’s been about a month since the incident at the bridge, and since the mark on my arm appeared. For the most part I’ve ignored it, but when I see it I struggle not to spiral into a long train of questions as to why it randomly appeared, and what triggered it. Shoko proposed that it may have something to do with the two cursed wombs Itadori and Kugisaki killed. She suspected after performing autopsies on the corpses, that they were somehow two of the death paintings that were stolen during the sister school exchange event. She told me that it was possible that the third one was also fused with a human and incarnated into a living being, and it happened to be my soulmate. This thought concerned me, My soulmate was possibly a deformed human corpse fused with a cursed object, great. 

    Though it wasn’t any worse than the idea Saturo had. He had told me with a straight face that it took 25 years for my soulmark to appear because my soulmate hadn’t been born yet and they were probably a couple weeks old at this point. I know he was joking because one, many soulmate pairings had massive age gaps and the older party still had their mark at birth, and secondly because as soon as he saw the look of disgust on my face he burst out laughing his ass off. 

    I was glad that even though jokes were being made, Gojo and Shoko weren’t pushing me away for getting my soulmark. They treated me no differently, after all they had once had their own soulmates with them, even if it was far too short of a time for their liking. And don’t get me wrong I still have a distaste for the thought of soulmates, but for the first time in my life there is actual hope. Maybe it was just a mistake in the universe and whatever gave soulmarks was like shit missed one and fixed it, or maybe Shoko is right and my soulmate is an incarnated cursed object. Who knows but hopefully I find them soon and can experience the joy I’ve witnessed so many times over, even if it’s only for a short moment.

Timeskip to shibuya arc

    It’s been a few weeks since my soulmark appeared and I can’t help but feel anxious. Part of it is the excitement of finally having a soulmate but the other part is things have been getting worse in the Jujutsu community. With suspicion of a traitor at the kyoto school, the first years were requested to investigate. The problem with that was the suspected traitor was nowhere to be found and the trail went cold.

    Just over a week later all hell broke loose at a transit station in Shibuya. Many sorcerers were dispatched to wait as back up in case Gojo was unable to handle the citation. I had been waiting with Nanami, Ino and Megum when we were told to enter the barrier. Not long after entering, the shouts of Yuji Itadori could be heard throughout the veil.  Deciding a change of plans, we met with Itadori and were informed that Saturo had been sealed by the special grade curses that had organized the attack.

    While Nanami went to speak with Ijichi, the rest of us went to look for a way to dismantle the barriers. Currently Megumi and Itadori are fighting the curse user who had the objects creating the barrier, and me and Ino are trying to fight the other two on top of the building. We were given a shock when the man Ino was battling turned into Toji Fushiguro, gaining all the power of the dead sorcerer killer. When we thought things couldn’t get worse Ino was taken out and thrown off the side of the building, knowing I didn’t stand a chance in a fight against Toji I jumped hoping Megumi or Itadori would think of a way to save both of us.

    My prediction was right as one of Megumi’s shikigami caught me and Itadori managed to catch the unconscious Ino. When we landed, the boys told me that the barrier keeping sorcerers out was dismantled. Assessing the situation I came up with a plan that should help us greatly.

    “Ok here’s what’s gonna happen. Megumi and I are going to stay here while I heal Ino enough that he can be moved safely. Itadori you are gonna go try and find wherever Gojo is sealed in Shibuya station. Once I’m sure Ino is safe to move, I’ll follow after itadori to help him out, and Megumi will take Ino to Shoko so she can finish healing him.” I said, causing both boys to look at me in shock. It was a rarity that I would take charge of a situation but there was no time to freeze up right now. Becoming focused on the task of healing my coworker I ignored the boys trusting they will follow instructions.

     After about ten minutes I was confident that Ino would be fine to move, so I sent Megumi off to find Shoko while I went after Itadori. On my way to the station I passed Inumaki using his speech to help control the crowds and protect them from the mutated humans. I stopped for a few minutes to offer help in restoring his throat so it wasn’t too damaged from his technique and then went back to going after Itadori.

     A few minutes after entering the train station, I started to hear the sound of running water. I also noticed that the area I was in was completely destroyed, thinking the two things may be connected to Itadori. I followed the sound and path of destruction. As I got closer to the bathroom I noticed a large amount of water on the floor that was tinted pink from what I’m guessing is someone’s blood. Turning towards the men’s restroom I saw a familiar head of pink hair slumped against the wall.

     “Shit, Itadori are you alright?” I received no response. I kneeled down not caring that my pants would become soaking wet, I checked his pulse with a sigh of relief that he was still alive. Assessing the damage I knew that I would have to get the bleeding in his abdomen to stop or at least slow down a bit, before I could go after the fuck who hurt my student. I began using my reversed curse technique on the boy, focused on hopefully healing him enough that Sukana doesn't see a need to make an appearance.

     As I finished healing what I could, I noticed a strange feeling in my gut. It was almost like I was anxious or scared of something. It made no sense, sure I was worried for my friends and students, and the safety of all the non sorcerer's around during this horrible attack, but this feeling was weird. The feeling was almost like it was coming from someone else. Brushing it off, not having time to deal with this, I moved to follow the wet bloody footprints leading away from the bathrooms, assuming they belonged to whoever or whatever did this to Itadori.

    Rounding the corner as the footprints became harder to follow, the feeling in my gut got worse and an emotion I could only describe as self loathing joined the anxiety and worry. I was even more confused, I had heard before that when close to your soulmate there is a chance to feel their emotions but why on earth would my soulmate be in a place like this hating themself. Once again hoping it was just my imagination I continued my search. I stopped for a second as I started to hear mumbling coming from a little alcove just in front of me along the wall.

     “I almost killed him.” I heard the voice say. I could tell whoever it was, was distressed. “How could I almost kill my own brother?” The voice kept ranting, now I was concerned, this person almost killed their own brother and was now sitting in the deepest reaches of a train station overrun with curses and mutated humans, what was wrong with them.

     I approached the alcove with caution, if this person nearly killed someone they could be extremely dangerous. “Hey, sorry to bother you, but are you Ok?” I asked as I got close enough to see a man, probably in his early to mid twenties curled up on himself. He had medium length hair pulled up in two messy buns at the back of his head, he was also wearing a white robe with a purple vest. I couldn’t quite make out his face as it was buried in his knees but as I got closer to him I could feel the copious amounts of cursed energy flowing off him. It wasn’t as intense as Gojo or Okkotsu, but he was definitely special grade.

     After a few seconds, he jumped slightly looking up at me for only a moment before going back to his rambling. It’s like he didn’t even register that I asked a question. When he looked at me I could see the long black line across his face, to some it may have been an odd feature but to me it made him look more handsome. It may be weird to say but looking at this person curled in on himself with messy hair mumbling about almost killing someone, I couldn’t help but notice he was attractive. It also didn’t help that the longer I kneeled in front of him the more I felt emotions of anxiety and doubt.

      I tried speaking to him again. “Are you ok? Is there anything I can do to help?” The anxious feelings were becoming almost too much for me to handle. If they were coming from this man infront of me I needed to calm him down soon or we would both be having a breakdown. “Just talk to me for a second, I want to make sure you’re not hurt.” That comment seemed to reach him as he stopped mumbling, looking at me and making eye contact.

      He stayed frozen looking at me with those beautiful hazel eyes, it was like he was in a trance. I was about to speak again when I decided that a good way to calm him down if I really was feeling his emotions would be doing the opposite, projecting my emotions to my soulmate. If he is the reason behind the blood drop mark on my wrist, sending positive feelings should help him relax. To my surprise as soon as I started to calm myself to a relaxed point, I could see his face settle, he no longer looked like a kicked puppy but more a confused child.

      “What did you do to me?” Was the first not mumbled sentence out of his mouth. I looked at him for a moment trying to decide how to explain what I had just figured out. 

      I settled for smiling at him before explaining gently what just happened between us. “We are soulmates, two people destined to be together. We both have a mark to represent each other somewhere on our body, like this” I showed him my wrist as I explained it all. He looked at the blood drop for a second before he moved his arm to show me his wrist. In the exact same spot was a sphere that looked fairly similar to the barriers I can create around myself.

      “So that’s what this weird mark is, Mahito tried to tell me it was nothing and to ignore it.” He spoke explaining his knowledge of the mark. I was unsure of who this Mahito was but it seemed whoever it was, was trying to hide soulmates from him. I was slightly confused how a man in his twenties didn’t know about soulmates, but that was a question for later.

      Smiling at him I continued my explanation. “In addition to the marks, when soulmates are close to each other they can feel each other's emotions and strong emotions can influence the other. That's what I did, your feelings of anxiety and doubt were becoming too strong for me to stay focused so I calmed down my own feelings enough to help calm you down.” He nodded at the explanation, looking to the side for a moment before looking back. I could tell he was still a little anxious, whether that was because of finding out about soulmate, or what happened before I found him. I was unsure but I was going to figure it out. “Now that you’ve calmed down a bit do you mind telling me what happened? Why are you hiding in this alcove?” I asked as gently as possible not wanting to send him into another panic attack.

      He paused for a second before he started to explain. “I almost killed my little brother. I didn’t know he was my brother when we started fighting but when I was about to deliver the final blow I just knew he was my brother. It was the same feeling I got when my other brothers were killed. I can’t kill my brother even if he was the one to kill our other brothers. I hurt my brother and I have to make up for that. I have to protect him.” He started rambling again, not in the mumbling manner I found him in but it was hard to follow what he was saying. “He almost died because of me, and now he’s probably bleeding out because I hurt him,  because I didn't realize who he was sooner.” That sentence caught my attention.

      I remembered what led me to this spot, to finding him. Placing my hand on his shoulder to get his attention. “Slow down for a second, who and where is your brother?” I asked hoping to not get the answer I assumed was coming.

      “Yuji Itadori is my little brother. He's in the men’s bathroom.” He answered the question and I could tell he was about to start rambling again. Squeezing his shoulder again I drew his focus back to me.

      Pushing away my concern for the fact my soulmate was working with the curse’s that organized the attack. “He’s okay, I was actually looking for him earlier and found him in the bathroom. I was able to use my reverse cursed technique to stop the bleeding and keep him from dying. But what did you mean by he’s your brother, he never talked about having any siblings? Also he killed your other brothers?” I tried to reassure that Itadori was okay, but also asked for clarification. As far as I knew Itadori’s only family was his grandfather who passed away shortly before he became a sorcerer.

      He looked at me shocked that I knew who he was talking about. “Thank you. And I don’t know how to explain how he’s my brother, I just know he is. I have such a strong connection with my brothers. I felt when Yuji and Nobara Kugisaki ended the lives of my brothers Eso and Kechizu a few weeks ago, and I felt that same feeling when I was about to kill Yuji for revenge.” He explained in the best way he could.

     I nodded in understanding, he attacked Itadori in order to get revenge for his brothers, who I’m assuming were the two curses Itadori and Nobara fought at the bridge. Thinking about it they did say that when they finished off the curses they didn’t disintegrate like a normal curse and were just bodies as if they had killed humans. If that thing was this person's brother then what are they and why does he look so normal. “I can tell you’re confused, I’m assuming you probably were there when Yuji fought my brothers and are wondering what I am.” He was right, but how could he read me so well? I just nodded at him to continue. He went on to explain that he was a cursed object for 150 years until the attack on Jujutsu tech when he and two of his brothers were stolen. He explained that Mahito the patch faced curse, used his technique to give them bodies and use them as tools to fight sorcerers. He briefly explained that they sided with the curses because his brothers wouldn’t have been accepted by humans for the way they looked and he would have rather not had to help the curse who created him.

     “What do you mean by helping the curse that created you? Didn’t you say you were a cursed object for 150 years, wouldn’t the curse who made you be exercised by now?” I asked, interrupting his explanation.

     “The curse that made me is called Kenjaku, he was once a normal human who used his innate technique to transfer his brain to others to control them. 150 years ago he took over Noritoshi Kamo, using him to experiment on my mother who was able to carry the child of a curse. He tried nine times to get a living specimen but only received nine cursed objects that received the name Death paintings, I was the first one.” He explained his creation. As he was about to continue and explain how he was supposed to be helping Kenjaku in this day and age there was loud rumbling around us.

     I stood up quickly pulling him from the alcove looking around. The building looked like it was shaking. “As much as I’d love to keep chatting, I think we should probably get out of here.” I turned to him before I started to pull him in the direction of the exit. 

     “Wait, we have to get Yuji, we can’t leave him down here.” I heard behind me.

     “Look if Yuji is still down here than Sukana has probably taken over and if that’s the case he'll be fine.” i tried to explain, but the look on his face showed he was still concerned. “Listen, I know you want to make it up to him but you can't do that if we get crushed by a collapsing train station. As soon as we get out of this we will go find him I promise. You can trust me, I'm your soulmate after all, I’ll support you through this…” I wanted to address him by name but I realized in all of his explanations he never once told me his name, then again I never told him mine so it wouldn’t have been a fair trade. Continuing to pull him out of the station I decide it’s better late than never. “By the way I’m Y/n Y/l/n, and what can I call my handsome soulmate?” I asked him, feeling him stumble at the compliment.

     “Uh Choso. My name is Choso Kamo.” He said as we exited the train station. Finally knowing my soulmate's name felt amazing for some reason. It was probably due to the years of thinking it would never happen but I knew that no matter what this crazy world throws at us next we will handle it together.

[azzysmate]

Back From the Dead - Part 2

Azriel x RhysSister Fanfic

Summary: Rhaen, sister of Rhysand, was supposedly dead for centuries, but what if she wasn’t? What if she was only trapped by something no one ever dreamed of being so dangerous? And what will happen when she appears at the border of the Spring Court and human lands barely alive?

3rd Person POV

The High Lord and his Spymaster walk down the halls of the clinic in silence until they are certain that the two females will not overhear them.

Rhys, only a few steps ahead of Azriel, whirls around to ask, “What did you find?”

Frustrations rolls off of him waves, almost as visibly as the velvety darkness he wields. “Nothing.”

He had searched all up and down the wall, looking for something or someone that could give him some type of clue as to where she came from. But it was as if she’d appeared in the spot he’d found her out of thin air. She was only a few feet from the wall, and there were no human settlements around for miles. No holes in the barrier, not a drop of blood from her or anything else close by, no other scents, not a trace of any other being.

“She must’ve used what little energy she had to winnow where I found her,” he adds, “Whatever happened to her took place at another location.”

Rhys runs a hand through his inky black hair. “And you didn’t check the Spring Court at all?”

He doesn’t respond, only blinks at his brother. They both know that if he had stepped one toe onto Tamlin’s land, it would’ve started something they weren’t prepared to finish. They couldn’t withstand the repercussions right now, no matter how badly the both of them were willing to risk it. It was the only reason Azriel showed any restraint. That and the fact that he wouldn’t have been able to stop himself in time to see Rhaen wake up.

Not that he got back in time to see that anyway. He couldn’t bring himself to be irritated with her at all though, not when she was smiling up at him like that and joking around with Rhys just like old times. Like she was never gone. His heart felt lighter seeing that, but every time she flinched in pain, it struck a match to the boiling rage inside of him. Someone had touched her, hurt her, left her for dead, and he refused to let them continue to walk around this earth as if they’d gotten away with it.

“I don’t think you truly want me to slip into that territory, Rhys,” he finally answers the question, “but I can do anything else.”

With a sigh, he nods slowly, “Right. Almost forgot about how absolutely feral you become when it comes to my sister.”

“What?”

It isn’t easy to surprise the Shadowsinger. He is the Night Court Spymaster for a reason, and it’s because very little can make it passed his intensive attention. He’s also a little too good at keeping things to himself, making it hard for his family to truly see him. He isn’t a vulnerable person, and although he’s shown romantic interest in not one, not two, but three other females since Rhaen’s death, or I suppose disappearance would be a better word now, none of them have made him as weak as she did. Which means he’s never tried to hide something as hard as he’s tried to hide those feelings for her. Especially from Rhysand.

“Azriel,” he says with a bit of a laugh, “I know you. I see more than you might think. Of course, I’m not quite as attentive as you are, or else I would be doing my own espionage. That doesn’t mean I miss the way you look at her, the way the tension leaves your body when she’s near, the playful glances and words you give to her. I’ve always seen it, even when we were younger. I also see how you’re so fiercely protective of her. I saw the way you immediately grasped onto Truth Teller when we came into her room. And let’s not forget how you were barely considered a living being after we heard the news about her. You love her, Az, and not in the same way that Cass and I love her.”

Again, all that Azriel can do is blink at him. Rhys isn’t angry, thank the Cauldon, as made clear by the smile that stays on his lips while he speaks. However, that’s not exactly the reassurance he needs from him in order to pursue Rhaen. He would never do such a thing without his blessing.

The High Lord shakes his head a bit when he realizes he’s not going to get confirmation or denial. Which is really the only confirmation he needs to know his assumption is and always has been correct.

He places a hand on his brother’s shoulder and asks, “You said you’ll do anything I need you to, right?” Az nods. “Okay. What I need is for you to get her to open up to you. You have always been closer with her than anyone else, so I know she’d tell you before she’d tell me. Though that’s never made much sense to me considering you’d do more damage on her behalf than I ever could because like I said, you go feral when it comes to her wellbeing. But I digress…”

“Rhys,” Azriel speaks as Rhys trails off, “I’m not sure what you think she’ll tell me, but I don’t feel comfortable romancing your sister into giving me information.”

“I’m not asking you to report anything back to me. I trust you’ll bring any dire needs to my attention, but what she needs is for you to be her friend. Rekindle the relationship you two once had and get her to share what happened to her. Not for my benefit or yours, but because whatever she went through left a wound that she’ll need to let breathe before it can heal. Feyre told me that when she started to wake up earlier, her hands were glowing purple. We both know that’s a sign of her losing control. It looked like something triggered her, and whatever was going on in her head made her angry enough that she would have turned the whole building into rubble had Feyre not gotten her to open her eyes. Something bad happened to her while she was gone. Something that could cause her to destroy the entire continent if she doesn’t let it out.”

Az takes a deep breath before doubtfully clarifying, “And you actually think I’m the one to bring it out of her?”

A smirk appears on Rhys’ face, as if he knows more than he’s letting on. “I do. Be her friend.”

Many thoughts passed through the Shadowsinger’s mind at his assuredness. Did Rhaen have feelings for him all those years ago? If she did, would she still have them now? So much had happened that irrevocably changed him since she’d last known him.

Then again, plenty of things must’ve played out for her that he had no clue about either, but there was no doubt in his mind about what he still felt for her. Feelings he hadn’t felt in her absence and probably never would for anyone but her. No matter how hard he’d tried.

Either way, Rhysand was right. She needed someone to talk to. Whether or not it was him.

Azriel’s doubts were suddenly clouded by the need to help her get better, so he tucked them away and replaced them entirely with the resolve to be whatever Rhaen needed him to be.

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

1st Person POV - Rhaen

Madja said I was healing wonderfully. I only had to stay one more night before we could return home, just so she could be one hundred percent certain there were no signs of internal damage.

Thank the Mother she didn’t possess the ability to search my mind, or she would’ve never let me leave.

Rhys had communicated with Nuala and Cerridwen to prepare me a room at the River House, the new property he’d bought specially for him and Feyre. When we arrived, it was just as lavish as I expected. Night Court colors enveloping every nook and cranny. A huge bed, covered with the most beautiful black and silver embroidered silk sheets. Midnight blue curtains with shimmer that sparkled like diamonds, imitating the night skies of home I’d missed so much. Ornate artwork and vases on all the walls and tabled surfaces.

My favorite part by far was the bathroom. Everything was black marble aside from the cream colored porcelain tub that was big enough for three people and equipped with messaging jets that I couldn’t wait to unleash on my sore muscles. Every type of earthy smelling soap imaginable, along with salts and sprays and lotions. All of my favorite hair products and oils. Everything I used when I was younger.

The fact that he remembered those details from my childhood made my heart melt.

Scents that I favored, books I grew up reading over and over again, pictures of our family, our friends, including the new additions I’d yet to meet. Everything about it screamed home. It was perfect.

The only thing that felt out of place was me. Yes, I loved everything he picked out and prepared for me, but it was more like a shrine built for the little girl I used to be. I felt different now. Rougher. Battered.

Broken.

Even so, I said nothing in hopes that I could readjust. Perhaps living as I used to would bring back that innocent little girl I was. I truly wanted nothing more.

Now, we’re all gathered together for dinner, finally eating after what felt like hours of reuniting hugs and introductions.

“Okay, hold on…” I raise one hand to Nesta, who isn’t nearly as scary to me as they made her out to be. It’s more like she feels everything so strongly, and she isn’t sure how to handle it, and that’s something I can relate to. “You changed her entire reproductive anatomy? And then proceeded to do it to yourself?”

She smirks at me from across the table and Rhys rolls his eyes, surely never going a day without the reminder she saved his mate’s and son’s lives. “I did,” she says.

“You were not joking about the last ten years, Feyre,” I comment, “The Archeron sisters are a different breed entirely. Completely flipping Prythian upside down. A High Lady with the powers of all the High Lords, a death god who can control the Troves, and a seer that needs nothing else to leave me utterly impressed. I’m blown away.”

“Don’t give her a bigger head than she already has, little one,” Cassian chimes in.

Nesta lifts one brow at her mate. “You weren’t complaining about my head this morning.”

Lucien, who I recognized from Tamlin’s court and nearly beheaded on sight had it not been for Azriel holding me back while Rhys explained his presence, spits out the smallest amount of wine and looks around sheepishly. “Apologies. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to how you are all so… open with each other.”

Elain, Feyre’s other sister, smiles softly at her mate and pats his shoulder lovingly.

“You’re in and out so much, I’m not sure how you ever could be,” Mor replies to him, “That’s alright though, Luc, now that you and Elain finally accepted the bond, I’m sure you’ll acclimate in no time. Officially part of the family, which means more family dinners, which means more lewd family conversation.” She winks and lift her drink to him.

“Wait, you only just accepted your mating bond?” I blurt out curiously.

Azriel stiffens next to me, and Elain’s eyes widen a bit as they take me in. Lucien clears his throat, and all the others grow uncomfortably quiet except for Cass, who looks more annoyed than anything.

After a moment, Elain sobers up enough to answer me, “I had a hard time coping with becoming fae. Being thrown into the Cauldron was traumatic enough, but as soon as I came out, Lucien was exclaiming that I was his mate. It was all too much for me all at once, so I had a rough time being okay with it for a while.”

I glance around, but they’re all trying a little too hard to avoid meeting my eyes. “So what aren’t you all telling me then?”

“Perhaps yet another discussion to have at a different time, sister,” Rhys declares, “All that matters is that Elain and Lucien are happy together now. You’re home, safe and sound. We all are.” He reaches out to grab Feyre’s hand, and she gives him an intensely adoring grin.

Slowly, everyone began to speak again, picking much different topics to talk about. With the exception of Az and I. When I gather the courage to look up at him, his golden eyes are already on me, and it causes my heart to stutter.

It’s clear to me that something went on between the two of them, and his regret is just as obvious based on the pleading gleam in his gaze. Silently requesting me to let him explain later.

The problem is, I’m not sure why he thinks I’m owed an explanation. We were nothing more than friends before, and for all intents and purposes, I was dead to him for centuries. Even if something had gone on between us, I would have wanted him to move on from me.

However, if I’d messed around with someone’s mate, I suppose I’d want to be the one to tell my friends about it, too.

He’s so blatantly ashamed of it, and I can see he’s worried about what I might think of him. So I reach under the table to squeeze his knee in reassurance and try to convey my own words through our eye contact.

‘It’s alright. I would never judge you. We all make mistakes in our desparation. I know I have…’

I turn back to my plate and continue to eat. As I’m about to pull away, I feel the softest brush of his rough fingers against me, and then his scarred palm settles on top, keeping me there.

Heat flushes across my cheeks, but I ignore it and the reminder of Feyre’s suggestions at the clinic that play on a loop in my mind…

You guys are the most wonderful beings in the universe, and I feel so loved. Thank you for your encouragement. This part is a little shorter, not too much happening, but I’m trying to setup for the good stuff, so I hope you bear with me.

I love you all so much, you’re the best 🤍

@projectcampbell @acourtofsmutandstarlight @rcarbo1 @lilah-asteria @anainkandpaper @evergreenlark

[pastel-peach-writes]

Would I be able to request an Ellie Williams imagine where she has a younger sibling, and they get hurt protecting her and Ellie is worried about them as they are self destructive, please?

You got it, dude!

"Dude, Chill Out." | Ellie + Sibling!Reader

╰┈➤ PLOT: Ellie this, Ellie that. Believe it or not, being Ellie's younger sibling is complete ass. Everyone raves about how strong she is and how she's able to keep her own. Well, what about you? You're barely two years younger and you can keep your own just as well as she can. Besides, she needed your help this time.

╰┈➤ WARNINGS: Cursing, Self-Destructive Reader, Sibling!Reader, Angry Ellie, Mentions Of Joel, Long Fic, No Use Of Y/N, Custom Nicknames, Not Proofread, Mentions of Weed/Smoke/Alcohol

⍣ ೋ Enjoy!⍣ ೋ

Breathe. Breathe.

Okay, now be still... look around. Clear. Run.

Through the trees, you zigzag. You're careful not to step on loose twigs and branches. Your throat is scratchy and your breath is as uneven as it's ever been.

From behind you, you can hear the squeals and hisses of whatever demonic creature you've stumped upon this time. You promised her you wouldn't get into trouble. You swore it was a quick trip. At least, it was supposed to be.

Your heart's in your stomach and your legs ache as if you've been running for days. You don't know how much longer you could go.

You glance back to see how far the creature is from you. You can't see anything with the deep gray fog that settled over the forest as nighttime came around. Even the tall tree trunks were unidentifiable.

A wail exclaims from what you thought was fog. The creature's face is bloodied and covered with rotten flesh and fungi. It roars, bringing its chest to the sky before going down on all fours and racing towards you.

"Shit, shit, shit, shit!" You're in for it now. You inhale sharply as you find any last of your strength in you to book it. Your thighs are screaming at you and your shoulders burn in every location possible.

You should've stayed home.

In the midst of your running, you fail to see a fallen tree trunk in your path. Instead of hopping over it, your shoelaces catch onto the bark of the tree.

You collapse over the trunk, and the wind violently punches out of you. You made first contact on the ground with your ribs, then your chest, and lastly your arms and face. Your legs scuff up against the wood.

Now you're not just feeling the burning of your muscles being overworked, but you're also feeling the burning sensation of many tiny cuts on your legs and arms. Possibly a few cracked ribs if you're lucky.

The creature roars again. You can smell its rotten stank as it comes closer.

Five feet.

Four feet.

Three...

Two...

Bang! Blood erupts from the middle of the creature's face. The bullet sends the creature flying and it lands on its back. More shots are fired into its chest to ensure its death.

You're not disgusted by the guts that exploded onto your face or your blood-soaked garments. Instead, you're afraid of what stands behind the gun.

"Are you fucking kidding me?!"

Trailing up from her muddy, broken-down shoes to her jeans with dirty knees all the way up past her dark gray shirt and sage green button-down, you grin at Ellie. "Hey."

-

"Oh, come on! I'm fine!" you exclaim as Ellie drags you by your collar and into her home. She tosses you to her couch. You sit down with a plop. You scoff and fix your shirt.

"You're full of bullshit. You're scratched up and if I wasn't there to save your ass, you would've been dead," she says. With a grunt, your sister goes over to her desk. She scrambles through books and papers before taking out a tin box. "You're lucky you don't have any real injuries."

Does a bruised ego count as a real injury?

"Yeah, yeah," you mumble. "No one can beat Little Miss Perfect."

With her head cocked, Ellie whips around toward you. "What did you just say?"

She's using that tone a mother would use. The same tone a bully would use to make their prey cower when they try to stand up to themselves. She sounds like Joel. When did she become him?

"Nothing." Your eyes falter between the coffee table in front of you and her eyes. No, scratch that. Her green eyes are piercing into your soul. You stare at the coffee table.

Ellie scoffs. Despite the thick tension in the room, Ellie comes to your side. She crouches on the floor and guides your arm towards her.

You wince, turning away and locking your jaw.

"I thought you said you were fine," Ellie's smirk is apparent in her words. She lengths your arm towards herself. She takes a wet cotton and cleans the minuscule cuts the infirmary didn't notice.

You nearly screech at the burning and tingling sensation. "I am. You're just gripping my arm like I'm some piece of chicken and you're the predator."

"That doesn't even make any sense." Ellie's eyes stay locked onto your arm. After she cleans up the cuts, she applies cream and gives extra delicate attention to your bruises. In the end, she wraps your arm up with a bandage wrap to prevent the cuts from getting infected and gross. "There."

You glance at the bandage. The wrap around your forearm is tight, as it should be, and moving your arm from straight to bend is damn near impossible. The classic Ellie bandage stamp of approval. "Thanks."

Ellie stands with a groan. "No biggie. Just stop getting yourself into shit. I'm tired of saving your ass." She puts her first aid supplies back in the tin box before storing the box in its original place.

"Yeah, right," you stand to follow her. "You love saving me. It paints you as the hero of the town and gets you in good cahoots with whomever you pissed off now."

Ellie turns to glare at you but decides against it. Arguing with you over this subject wasn't worth it. She sighs instead. "Whatever, man. You coming to the party tonight?"

"I wouldn't call it a party. Parties are supposed to be fun."

Ellie snickers. She rests the small of her back on the edge of her desk She crosses her arms as she shakes her head amused. "You're not wrong there, but still, you should come. If I have to go--"

"--then I have to. I know how this works." You let a sigh escape from your lips. "Fine, but I'm not going to show up on time."

"Wouldn't expect you to."

-

When you tell Ellie you're going to be late for something, you mean it. You hate arriving early to parties earlier. If they were parties held in someone's house, you're forced to mingle with the host which could be an awkward situation if you're not close with them.

Additionally, you may be forced to help set up.

Coming in late means you can slip into the party unnoticed and the decorations are bound to be done. Also, everyone's past the introductions and getting rid of the awkward air.

When you're late to a party, all that's in the air is vibes and maybe weed, smoke, and alcohol. Regardless, there's no awkwardness, just vibes. And vibes are all you're here for.

You slip into the fairy light-lit barn dressed in a fresh pair of jeans and your favorite shirt. Oh, and maybe a coat you took from Ellie who took it from Joel.

There's no scent of smoke or weed that greets you and there's only a faint smell of alcohol.

The oldies must not be here.

In the middle of the barn were people dancing and enjoying each other's company. By the back walls were people sipping on drinks and chatting amongst themselves.

You scan the party for your people, Kate, Ren, and Wired, but they're not here. You further scan for Ellie and her crew, but they're not here either.

One con on arriving late to a party: sometimes you're too late and miss seeing your favorite people.

Your shoes scuff on the floor when you turn to leave. Before you're greeted with the cold, fresh air, a girl with a short black bob grabs onto your shoulder.

You groan in pain. You turn to face her only to find that she's absolutely hammered.

"Oh, sorry!" the girl slurs. With a finger pointed towards you, she gasps. "No way! You're Ellie's sibling, right? Oh, she was just here saying how she saved you from the forest earlier this evening. She's so cool!" a giggle interrupts her ramble, "she's always saving us here and protecting us. It must be awesome to have her as your sister!"

You feign a smile. "Yeah, it's great."

The girl giggles again. "It must suck to live up to her. Like, I would feel like, inferior towards her and how she acts for others. She's so selfless. It's admirable really. She's so awesome-- Hey, I went on patrol with her once--"

You tuned out the rest of her ramble, vent, mumbling -- whatever the hell she was doing, you tuned her out. You didn't need to hear how great your sister is. You already know. You hear it every day, all day, 24/7.

What you rarely heard was how awesome you are and how great you are at things. You're lost in her 5'5 shadow and it sucks. Ellie this, Ellie that. All things Ellie can fuck off. You were going to prove how great you could be. Then maybe all this Ellie talk could stop.

You leave the party, letting the girl continue to talk about Ellie. You're sure she has some sort of crush on your sister, but that was none of your business.

-

"Hey," Dina says as she walks up to Ellie with two drinks in her hand. "Did I just see your sibling come in and then leave?"

Ellie takes a glass from her hand. Her eyes never left the barn's entrance since you walked in and then walked out. "Yeah, I just saw them too."

Dina purses her lips to the side as she leans on the wall they're standing next to. "Think they're okay?"

Ellie nods. She takes a sip of her drink, letting it linger on her lips then tastebuds before finally swallowing the liquid. "Yeah, I didn't see any signs of distress or upset on their squishy face."

Dina laughs. "You talk about them like this to their face?"

Ellie takes another sip, letting the liquid go straight down this time. "'Course not. Who do you take me as? They'll be alright."

-

The next morning, you were on the rotation for patrol. Typically, whoever's in charge of the schedule and shifts would never put you and Ellie on the same rotation. Putting siblings on the same team could be a scramble sometimes.

Sometimes you get the dream team, other times you don't.

But when you left the party last night, you changed the schedule to make sure you were on the same shift Ellie was on. You also made sure you two got paired up.

Jesse would be fine. He can deal with not being with Ellie and Dina for the morning.

So far, patrol was fine. Calm horses, easy breeze, and quick conversation.

Ellie and Dina talked more than you, but you were fine with it. You weren't trying to prove how great of a talker you were, you were trying to prove how great of a protector you are.

And saving Ellie in front of Dina guaranteed town buzz. No offense to Dina, but she can't keep a town secret to save her life. It's okay though, everyone has their faults.

"Clumsy, if I have to tell your ass to keep your horse straight one more time, I'm going to lose it," Ellie barks.

And your fault was horse-riding.

It didn't matter how long you've been horse-riding or how many times Joel and Ellie tried to teach you, you could never get the concept.

"Sorry! I'm trying. She's being rowdy today," you pout as you move your horse's reign.

"Don't blame the horse, blame the rider," Ellie snickers. You give her a scowl in response, but she only laughs it off.

An hour or so into patrol and there was no chaos. Unfortunate for you because you need the chaos in order to prove yourself. You've tried to make chaos like, snapping a twig or maybe distracting the horses so they'll run away, but to no avail.

You three dock your horses momentarily to search through a building on foot.

The building is tall and abandoned, like most of the buildings nowadays. Greenery grows from the sides and the windows are simply frames. There are no window panes in sight.

Cautiously, Ellie walks inside the building first. She has her hand on her upholster and another one guides the flashlight. Though the sun was shining, it was natural for a place like this to have dark corners or areas to be discovered.

Dina waits patiently while you cross your arms with a scoff. "Why do you have to be the first one to go in?" you ask your sister.

She sticks out a finger to shush you. You roll your eyes but obey nonetheless. Ellie scans the building, still close to the entrance in case something is hiding in the shadows. When she determines the area to be safe, she invites you two inside. "Because," Ellie answers. "I'm..."

Ellie's eyes shift toward Dina. The girl is scanning the building as told, not paying mind to your sibling conversation. Ellie lets out a breath and continues but with a lower tone. "I'm immune. If something comes running out at me, I'll be fine. You two on the other hand?" she shakes her head, "I would be dumb to let anything happen to you two."

"Blah, blah," you wave her off. You walk further away from Ellie and discover the rest of the building on your own.

The building had five stories. The first two were pretty well lit with the morning light, the others not so much. Not to mention the wet and stinky stairways.

You stomp your way up the stairs with a scowl on your face. You keep a strong hold on your flashlight.

"Will you quiet down?" Ellie whisper-exclaims from the bottom of the steps. You ignore her. You didn't even know she was following you. "If something's here, you're going to attract it."

"I don't give a fuck. You're here anyways. You can save the day as usual." Your voice is bitter yet quiet. You speak to Ellie through your teeth. "Shouldn't you be with Dina anyway?"

"She can handle her own." Ellie quickly goes up the stairs to be closer to you. "We agreed she should keep watch while us two search through the other levels."

You scoff. "So, you trust her but you don't trust me."

"Did I say that?"

You shrug. "You might as well," you make an effort to have your stomps be heard. You open the door to the other level, but Ellie rushes in front of you to scan the level first.

When safety has been assured, Ellie walks in. "Well, I didn't. So, don't get your head wrapped up over shit that isn't even true." She uses her flashlight as her eyes as she steps further into the room.

You shut the door behind yourself. You don't dare to speak to Ellie anymore as you clear the level. Onto the next you go.

You and Ellie go up the stairs in silence. Per usual, Ellie checks the level first and then allows you to come inside.

"You know, I'm getting real sick and tired of your bullshit superhero act," you drop the bomb on her as you scan through cardboard boxes.

Ellie groans to herself, "Here we go."

"You always have to save people then flaunt it. Could you ever save someone and then swear secrecy? Do you have to blab your mouth like you're Dina every time you save someone?"

Ellie's jaw tenses. "Watch yourself."

"And here you go with that bullshit!" you toss the box aside. Something in the far corner creaks, but you both pay no mind. "You're not my fucking mom, Ellie! Hell, you're not Joel or any other parental figure in my life--"

"Good! I don't want to be any of those anyway. If I birthed you, I would have no clue what to do with myself," Ellie scoffs. "You're so fucking insane sometimes, you know that?"

You shrug, crossing your eyes over your chest. Her words stab you right in the heart and send tears to your eyes, but you don't let them show.

"You're always getting yourself into trouble. You say, 'Oh, I'm fine!' but then you come to me with a dislocated knee. You'll say 'Oh, I'm just going out for a bit,' but then come home bruised up with leaves in your hair, dirt and blood on your clothes, and if I'm truly lucky, your little friends would tell me you nearly came in close contact with a fucking infected," Ellie's voice grows the more she talks.

The creaking in the corner is more apparent. In fact, it's beginning to sound like more clicking.

"Ellie," you warn, your voice quiet.

"No, you wanna do this here? Let's do this then. There's never a day where I don't worry about you. Did you eat? Drink water? Are you in your bed safely tucked in at night or am I going to wake up in the morning and receive the worst news of my life?" Ellie's voice cracks.

You can barely see her eyes stare into yours. By the sound of her voice, you can tell she's getting choked up. Maybe even crying?

"You always get yourself into shit, Clumsy, and I--"

"Ellie, look out!" you exclaim as a hand shoots through the frail wall beside her. Ellie moves, but not a sound escapes her body. She turns to the hand, then back to you where she finds you're no longer where you were two seconds ago.

Instead, you're charging headfirst into danger. You break down the wall with the crowbar that was stashed in your backpack. The clicker runs straight toward you once it's free from the wall. You bash the bar on its head before taking a blade and jamming it in the clicker's throat.

"Holy shit, are you okay?" Ellie asks. You wave her off. Instead, you walk inside the hidden room the clicker was in. You don't make an effort to scan the room like Ellie does. If something wants to come at you, so be it.

There were only two more clickers hiding in the room. You killed them both, not letting Ellie get a chance to save your ass.

Finishing up the room scan, you head over to a case of books. They're weathered and crusty, and the words on the pages bleed through. Ellie tries to spark a conversation again, but you ignore her once more.

You continue walking around the room with the floor creaking under you. Your flashlight shines a path for you to get out of the room, but you fail to see the giant hole in the ground. You step right through and fall three stories down.

Ellie calls out for you, but the moment she runs towards the hole, it's too late.

You land in a mist of cardboard boxes filled with packing supplies, but they don't do much in terms of protection.

"What the--" Dina mumbles. She turns behind herself to find you dropped in the pile of boxes with a broken arm and leg. You can't even look at her. The tears blur your vision and your head is scrambled from earlier actions and conversations.

Ellie shines her flashlight down the hole and sighs, "Only you, Clumsy."

-

You lie in your bed with your arm hoisted up and your leg resting on a stack of pillows. On your nightstand is a mug of cold soup, pain meds, and books to keep your mind busy, but it was all useless.

The day you were going to prove yourself to Jackson, you came home sharing a horse with Ellie and with broken bones.

"Oh, Ellie! Thank God you were there." "Imagine what would've happened if she wasn't there." "You're lucky you have such an amazing sister."

"Oh, fuck off," you groan. You turn your face into your pillows and groan once more.

"Oh, sorry," Ellie's voice goes through the muffling of pillows. "I can leave if you want."

You peel your face from the pillows. "No, sorry. That wasn't catered towards you."

Ellie nods. She plays with her hands as she steps further into the room. Inches away from the edge of your bed, Ellie's eyes flicker to everything else but you.

Your eyes, however, remain on her.

Your last conversation wasn't the best, that's something you both knew. But, you never knew how much she cared for you and went out of her way to protect you. You didn't need protection. At least, not from outside elements. Maybe from yourself.

You're too ambitious for your own good. You're too stubborn for your own good too. You believe you can do everything on your own when you can't. In fact, you're pretty sure you've done nothing on your own since the apocalypse broke out.

You try to be hyper-independent but instead, all you are is self-destructive.

"I'm, uh, sorry for what I said on patrol," Ellie's voice takes you out of your spiraling thoughts. "I didn't mean most of it. Like, the part of, uh," she scratches the back of her neck. "'Being lucky I didn't birth you'? One, that was weird... uh, two, I'm very lucky to have you the way I do. I'm sorry if I made you feel otherwise."

If you could shrug right now, you would, but everything hurts too much. "It's okay. I know I'm a handful."

"Maybe," Ellie walks to the side of your bed. "But isn't that your job? You're the younger sibling. You're supposed to get into trouble and I'm supposed to be the one to get you out of it."

"But I don't want you to. I want to get myself out of it."

"Oh, yeah? And how do you manage to do that? By dying?" Ellie's voice raises.

You deplete. You take your eyes off of her the moment her's lands on you. "You can go now."

"No, shit, Clumsy--"

"Stop calling me that. It's not cute, it's not endearing, it's fucking embarrassing."

"Okay, well," Ellie scans your room. It's been a minute since she's been in here. There are old porcelain sculptures of blueberries and pears scattered around your room. Most are chipped, but they're polished nicely.

On your bookcase, there are pictures of you with your friends and of you two with Joel. None of the two of you by yourselves. There are books in the case too, but they look to be untouched by you.

Ellie scans your room once more. There are speckles of blue around and even more porcelain sculptures of chipped blueberries. "How about Blueberry? Is that fitting?"

"It's fine." Your eyes remain on your window.

"Okay, well, Blueberry, I'm sorry. I really am. I've talked some things over with Dina, I guess I am a blabbermouth, but she helped me realize that, maybe you're feeling left out somehow or less than," Ellie finds her place by your bedside. "Is that true?"

"Could be."

"Right, well, Dina's a younger sister, you know that? She said that sometimes it can be hard to be your own person when your older sibling is amazing and all that shit, but I'm not amazing. I'm just me."

"Your point?"

"My point is, I wasn't trying to make you feel bad by saving you all the time. I was trying to do my part as your sister to protect you and I guess that blew up in my face," she sighs.

You finally face her. "I just wanted to prove I can be something besides Ellie's younger sibling who always gets themselves into trouble. I don't want to be known as the reckless one. I want to be strong and brave."

"But you are those things, Blueberry." Ellie's eyes motion towards the empty space beside you. You nod and allow her to sit. "I can't count all the times you went out after dark just because you heard something and wanted to ensure safety. Or however many times you stood up for the little guy. That's brave and strong."

"Not in the same sense of your strongness and bravery."

Ellie frowns. She puts a careful hand on your good thigh. "That's because you're not me. And if you spend the rest of your life trying to be someone else, you'll never be happy. No matter how hard you try, you'll never be me. You'll always be you and that's beautiful. Your friends like you for who you are. I like you for who you are. Why don't you?"

You fall silent. Your eyes well up with tears and your throat gets scratchy. With your eyes stinging, you try to move yourself close to Ellie.

You don't need to use your words to get what you want from Ellie. She already knows. She lies down, cradling your head in her arms as she does so. As you sob into her, she doesn't shush you. Instead, she draws circles on your good arm and kisses the top of your head. "I love you, Blue, and I want you to start loving yourself too. Start being you for you. Who cares about what others think?" she whispers.

You still don't have much to say. You let Ellie comfort you until the tears spill out until there are no more tears left to cry. You've spent all your time trying to prove you can be like Ellie, you kind of forgotten how to be yourself.

From this moment on, you make a promise to yourself:

Be you for who you are. The world does not need two Ellies.

WC: 4,263

A/N: I wouldn't mind two Ellies but, okay. LMAO

[ravennasgf]

LL: More

TW: su!c!de 

A/n: Was listening to More by Halsey when I came up with this 

Being Lady Lesso’s secret lover was hard, but I accepted it for her sake. 

Attending a ball for students and staff and not being able to dance with her hurt a little. Yes we were both Nevers, but she still didn’t want to have our relationship known. 

“So anyone in your life yet?” My best friend Emma asks 

“No, unfortunately,” I say as I see Lesso looking at me with a flash of hurt in her eyes. 

~~ a few days later 

Leo has been ignoring and avoiding me. I decide to talk to her. I knock on her room door. 

“What do you want?” she asks her tone ice-cold

“What did I do wrong Leo…”

“Don’t call me that you have no right after what you said.”

“Is this about the ball? You’re the one who wanted our relationship secret because of your reputation and I have kept that,” 

“Well it seems that you’re more than happy to be single so leave. I have a function to attend with someone,” she says. Hurt and betrayal fill me at how quickly she tossed me aside. 

“So you’re pretending that there was or is nothing between us?”

“You made that clear the other day,”

“Nora…”

“No! get out now,” she shouts. I do so tears falling down my face as I leave the woman I love behind. 

~~~ a week later 

I see her around the school with the new me, she’s very similar to me, and it hurts like hell. I spend the day working the nights drinking myself into oblivion to drown my sorrows. 

Broken beyond repair I take a week off of teaching. I turned to self harm, anti-depressants and alcohol still to numb the pain. 

My dearest Leonora,

I have loved you for the longest time. I still love you and I can’t help it. Somehow I still love you more. I am truly sorry for everything that happened. I’m glad that you have found someone to move on with. I’m sorry for the hurt that I caused you. I’m sorry that the future we talked about won’t happen with me, but I hope your new girlfriend can fulfil it. I wish you nothing but the best. I know that you also hate seeing me every day, so I’m leaving so you no longer have the reminder of me. Again I’m so sorry, I will love you til my dying breath (soon) and wish you all the happiness in the world. I’ll see you on the other side.

Love y/n

I go to the garden and conjure a piano to play and sing as I cry my eyes out. It won’t matter soon I’ll be dead. The pain to much to handle. I start playing More by Halsey https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MLw3JCQSkCU 

I grab the letter out of my pocket and head to Nora’s office. I knock but there’s no answer meaning she’s out. I open the door and place the letter on her desk. I look around at the room seeing all the memories it holds I decide that the sooner I die, the better for me. I head to my room grabbing my razor, whiskey, and two bottles of pills. I then head to the old headmasters tower. It was time. 

~~ 

After ingesting the pills and alcohol and making deep cuts on my wrist crying my eyes out, my eyelids feel heavy. They finally close. 

~~

Lesso’s POV

Walking into my office I see a folded letter on my desk. As I open it and read it I feel overcome with emotion. I feel a little guilty about what happened. I regret not talking it through with her instead I pushed her away. “I will love you til my dying breath (soon)” as I read that line I stopped breathing. Is she planning what I think this implies. No, please no. as I finish reading the letter I feel a part of my die. A pain rips through my heart and I know that I was right in what she was implying. No, she’s gone and it’s all my fault. 

“NO!” I scream out in pain as my heart breaks even more tears falling a million miles an hour down my face. Dovey and Emma run in.

“Lesso? What happened?”

“y/n she’s gone,”

“What?!’ they ask confused

“I’ll explain later we need to find her,” we all run out of my office trying to find her. I check the tower. Upon entering the tower I see her body on the floor, blood pooled around her. Alcohol bottles and pill bottles. I feel my heartbreaking even more. I rush forward and collect her body pulling it close to mine cradling it, as I scream out in pain. I eventually pick her up and carry her into the evers castle. Dovey and Emma see me and rush forward with tears in their eyes. 

I bring her to the infirmary and lay her cold body down. 

“What happened to her to get to this point,” Emma asks

“That may be my fault,” I whisper out

“What did you do?” Dovey asks me angrily. So I explain everything

“You know a true loves kiss can bring her back,” Dovey says. 

“Just give it a go,” Emma pushes. 

“Ok,” I give in. I give her a small kiss on the lips. 

“Lady Lesso?” I hear y/n say hoarsely.

“y/n you’re ok?” I say with relief. 

“Yeah, why are you here shouldn't, you be with your new girlfriend?”

“We’re not together anymore. I need you, and only you just like I love you and only you,”

“You clearly don’t Lesso and that’s fine, but please leave.”

“No please listen.”

“Fine,” she agrees 

“y/n I love you and I know that I said we should keep our relationship secret but instead of talking it out that night I pushed you away, and I regret it with every fibre of my being as I almost lost you. y/n I love you and I want the whole world to know that it’s you that I love, want and need.” I explain desperation evident in my voice along with love. 

“I love you too Lady Lesso,” she says quietly

“Will you be mine again?” I ask 

“Yes but only if we start talking these things out,”

“I promise darling I can’t live without you,” I tell her honestly. She gives me her incredible smile which makes me smile. 

a/n: please give any requests I’m out of ideas

[themastaralex]

Always, even to the End.

When an anomaly mission goes bad, you're left in critical condition, while a distressed Gwen is left to handle and process what just happened, while Miguel is there to save you, making sure you don't die like his daughter once did.

Warnings: Mentions of blood, direct talk of open wounds, very poorly studied medical stuff.

This shit was so much longer than I was thinking to make it like wtf do you mean 5k words?? Also Latina reader 🫶🏼❤️

"Oh, shit."

Wounded. Red. Pain. Talons.

Then, a voice, heavily muffled.

Ears. Ringing.

You open your eyes, barely able to see a figure. Then you feel a bruise on your eyebrow, moving to your eyelid.

"..fuck.." Strained, you groan, breaths ragged. Then the figure crouches down next to you, and they pull up your mask, right below your eye.

"-die." The figure's hand moves toward your bruised cheek, lightly brushing it. "St.."

Blood rushes out from your mouth, a sign of internal injuries.

Oh. I'm dead.

Almost.

Your eyesight starts to settle a little more, as you can finally make out some more detail of the figure.

White.. Hood..

Oh.. yeah.. mission. Almost forgot.

"Ngh.." Gwen looks around and presses something on her arm, her watch. Then as the portal comes up, she picks you up and speaks something into the watch.

You're not sure what happened to you. And right now, you're sure you want to sleep.

You're tired.

The blood loss.

She grabs you and runs into the portal. The portal is short, and she has no time to waste, so she doesn't wait for the elevator, instead, she just jumps, and even though you don't have the normal spider-person sticking, she keeps you close, and held.

You recall your mask, similar to Miguel's recall.

Your face moves to the left, as you see people running and rushing toward you, medics.

A smile comes up on your face when you see Miguel rushing towards you.

Haha.

Only time he'll ever run to me.

Then you look back at Gwen, her mask off and hood down. Her teeth are gritted as hard as she can as she runs toward the team of Spider-Medics. You didn't exactly get too good of a look at her face, but you see the gap in her teeth,

Cute.

Only a second later, your ears quit ringing, and you can finally hear, as she places you on a stretcher.

"Can you hear me?!" One of the medics yells as he flashes a light in your eyes, making sure you're still here.

"Ye..yeah." Just like earlier, your voice sounds heavily strained, as if it pains you to speak, which it does.

Up until now, most of your body has felt numb, but you finally feel it, the worst hit you've ever felt in your history of being Spider-Woman/Shadow of 2099. And you don't feel your legs. Or anything past when you got hit.

"I can't.. feel my chest.." You mutter out, a whisper in the wind.

"What?" Gwen asks, narrowing her eyes at you.

You desperately look at her, as your breaths become more and more labored.

The medics rush you to the medical bay, as Miguel and Gwen follow them. They place a oxygen mask over your mouth and nose, making sure you can breathe.

Gwen contacts Miles, Hobie, Pav and Peter so they know what happened.

"EVERYONE, MOVE! MOVE, DAMN IT!" Miguel clears a path, clearly worried for you, but he'd never admit it, at least not in front of everyone.

He always had that one soft spot for you.

You always did remind him of his daughter.

Your smile, your curiosity.

God, Miguel wishes so bad you didn't, because if you die now, he'll just get hurt again, and again.

So he'll do almost anything to save you, his 'adoptive daughter'. A year and a half ago, he would have said he didn't have anything to lose.

But now.. you know the rest.

After a few minutes of rushing to the medical bay, they get you into emergency surgery, then find what happened.

"Multiple broken vertebrae, shattered spine, fractured ribs, and a mediocre concussion. We have her in surgery right now to fix her spine." The doctor glances up from his clipboard, seeing a pacing Miguel and Gwen in a chair, slouched over, thinking over and over, 'how did this happen?'.

You don't blame her. Not after what the Goblin pulled.

"I'm not even quite sure how she survived, given she doesn't have the typical spider-powers. But I do know she has a similar physiology to you, Miguel." The doctor points his pen toward the 6'9 man, as Miguel turns toward him, encouraging him to continue. "You might have to do a blood transfusion, given that she's lost quite a lot of blood."

The Goblin, he's the one who did this to you. He mimicked Gwen's voice, saying, "Spider-Woman, help!"

It was in that second that you should have known. She never says Spider-Woman. She always says Shadow.

You should have known, you should have. But of course, your feelings and thoughts got the better of you. And the fact that you have no spider-sense only made it worse.

"Alright. I'll do what it takes to save my 2nd best Spider." Gwen quietly laughs at that, but only for a second.

"And you, Gwen, we'll need to check you out before you can leave." She nods, standing and following the doctor, but not without looking back at Miguel, who is glaring at her, his fangs out and everything.

Her eyes go wide, and she turns back around as fast as she can.

Oh, shit. Miguel's gonna kill me after I get bandaged up.

She can't help but get that awful feeling in her stomach just thinking about what Miguel will do to her after.

After Gwen follows the doctor in the doors, he drops the angered look, and instead dawns a tired look, complete with lowered eyebrows and small frown.

"Chingada madre. Kid always has to be in some sort of trouble. She can never stay still." He pinches his nose bridge, in between his eyes.

He keeps his eyes on the surgeons doing your operation, then looks at you on the table, under the effects of anesthesia.

"You better survive this so I can ground you." He barely smiles, giving the illusion he's still deathly angry with you, because he is.

The only thing you think about while under is a nightmare of not being able to save Gwen if the Goblin actually had her, which is almost traumatic for you. And whenever you think of it, your heart rate spikes, and the doctors have to give you additional drugs to calm your system down.

Regardless, almost everyone who knows you is worried, knowing that having your spine fractured, broken, shattered, whichever you want to say, is huge.

The doctor finishes treating Gwen's minor and major injuries, like cuts, bruises, and her broken arm. He gives her a cast to wear on her left arm for a week or two, before coming back for a check-up.

She heads back out the way she came, stopping for a minute to see the progress they've made. Virtually zero, but this surgery is complicated and will take hours of labor to repair the broken vertebrae, piece together the shattered spine, and replicate the ruptured nerves.

For some reason, she can't help but blame herself, just like she's blamed herself for so many other things.

But you don't think it's her fault, you know it's not her fault.

Other than blaming herself for something she couldn't have prevented, she watches the surgeons work for a minute, before wanting to head to your shared quarters, which for now, will be vastly empty.

For now, it won't be filled with the sound of your pencil going at it on your sketchbook paper, or you listening to some of your favorite songs, or the sound of you criticizing either a book you're reading, or something on the holoscreen.

And she feels alone. Again.

She hasn't felt this alone in a while, since after all, you're there next to her most of the time.

Grinning, laughing, trying not to laugh when Lyla "accidentally" turns off Miguel's hologram and his butt shows.

But she has Miles, Pav, and Hobie, right? Yes, but they're not you, one of her only girl friends, and best friend at that..

She stares at your bloodied and bruised face, reminding her of when Peter died.

Her thoughts go dark for a moment, thinking about you dying. On that table. Having to tell your parents in your universe that you died saving her.

Gwen snaps out of it, shaking her head.

'No. Stop thinking like that. She has the best doctors in the Spiderverse working on saving her. She'll be fine..' Gwen isn't even really sure if she can trust her thoughts, as she lightly frowns. 'Right..?'

She closes her eyes for a second, before turning around to leave the medical wing.

She's only a few steps away from the door when an alarm goes off, flashing red lights going off all around.

"Code Red in Medical Wing B, Code Red in Medical Wing B."

"SHE'S GOING INTO SHOCK, PUMP IV FLUIDS AND GET MIGUEL BACK IN HERE, STAT!" The head surgeon yells to a nurse inside the room, as he rushes to get the fluids and calls Miguel on his watch.

Gwen rushes to turn around, as she sees the surgeons working hard to save you. Then she hears the doors slam open to her right, as Miguel sprints to the entrance of the room.

She can't bear to watch, so she doesn't. She runs, out of that wing, to your shared quarters.

She runs, just like she ran after Peter died, and after her dad aimed his gun at her, not even giving her a chance to explain.

She opens the door, moving inside, not sparing the outside a second glance. She slams the door closed, sliding down it, sitting down onto the floor.

Her eyes darted around the floor, not thinking of anything in particular, other than the obvious: that she just ran away from having to see another person in her life die. Especially one she cares so much for.

One that she cares so deeply for, that she would gladly spend everyday with, that she'd give her life for.

She raises her head, a grave realization coming to her.

"Ah, shit.." She furrows her brows, the smile on her face bitter. "I like her. Just had to realize this now, huh?" Gwen just shakes her head, biting the inside of her cheek, holding back everything else she's feeling.

Aka, everything else she's feeling that she hasn't allowed herself to feel, like loss, or anything other than the wall she put up for a while, which was promptly taken down by Miles, Pavitr, Hobie, and most predominantly, you.

And right now, all she does is sit there, thinking about how pissed she'll be at herself if she doesn't get the chance to tell you that she likes you. If she doesn't get the chance and you die, that's just another death she'll claim responsibility for, even when both you and her knew the risks.

She'll blame herself for making the multiverse lose such a beautiful smile, a selfless hero, a brilliant mind, and the girl she likes.

And again, it's only now that she realizes her stares, because back then, she took them as just admiration, respect. Especially when she looked at you in the gym, bench pressing, with Miguel spotting you. She thought that she reacted like, 'Holy shit, that's impressive!' But she was like, 'Holy shit.'

Regardless of what she used to think, she knows now. And she knows she has to tell you, if you live. And if you don't, she'll carry it to her grave.

She wishes she could just curl up into a ball and cry, but she has hero work. Anomalies to take care of.

In a rude interruption, someone knocks on the door, then it's accompanied by a light voice.

"Gwen, you okay? Open the door." Only Miles would have that soft of a voice, especially when speaking to someone who's just experienced something more than bad.

She pauses for a second, trying to think up an excuse.

"Uh, I'm changing, can't." Real smooth.

"Mhm. Okay. I'll wait." And there he goes again, with his caring demeanor.

Gwen rolls her eyes, standing from her spot on the ground. "Fine. Come in." She opens the door, allowing Miles to come inside, then quickly shuts it again.

She moves over to her bed, passing a cabinet with a couple of pictures on top, with her and you in them.

She looks at them, grabbing them after a moment of staring. In all of them, you're smiling, whether that be brightly or annoyed.

"I know you're probably feeling guilty right now. But it wasn't your fault. Risks come from being a spider-person, especially one that doesn't have a spider sense." At those words, Gwen just nods, the words going in one ear and heading out the other. She just walks over to her bed, sitting on the edge.

Miles can't help but cross his arms, furrowing his eyebrows. "That's not the only reason you're worried, is it?" He finally asks the question.

All this time, Miles was deathly sure that you liked Gwen. He knew that for sure. But he never completely expected to realize Gwen liked you back.

He always had that small thought in the back of his head, but nothing had ever come of it, until now.

When Gwen doesn't do anything but look down at her feet, it confirms Miles' suspicions.

He nods, softly smiling. Nothing needs to be said by either of them.

Miles had always liked Gwen ever since that super-collider brought them and the others together, including you.

Ever since then, she's been heavy in his head and heart, as so much of the stuff he drew during that middle year was just her. Even his mom called him out on it at one point, but he heavily denied it.

Right before the super-collider incident when you and the others were brought into Miles' universe, you were busy battling Loki, along with the Avengers.

He was beating you guys badly, until you temporarily got the upper hand. But then you got sucked into Miles' Earth, effectively making your Earth lose the battle with Loki.

When you came back, most of the Avengers were in critical condition, and your mother along with thousands of New York citizens, were dead.

You wouldn't have known. You couldn't have. Yet, everyday, you blame yourself for their deaths, because if only you had defeated Loki faster, right?

If only. That's all anyone tells themselves.

She still has the photos in her hands. She can't let go of them, because what if she loses you at that moment? Those photos will be some of the only happy moments of you two she physically has.

She laughs, for a split second, as she looks up at Miles, sitting up straight.

"She always had that same old dumb smile. Every time." Her smile is small, reminiscent of the many smiles you've had, and many of them pointed at her.

"Tell me more." Miles nods, a smile evident on his face, after getting Gwen to talk about something to cheer her up. He drops his arms from his chest, instead opting to drop his arms to his sides and loosely place them on his hips.

Of course, Miles feels sad that Gwen doesn't like him like that, but now wouldn't be the time to say anything like that. He instead focuses on giving her some comfort in your stead.

"After she smiled, she would like, laugh but it sounded like exhaling a breath, if that makes sense?" She'd take a deep breath, looking at the pictures again, softly smiling.

"She'll be okay. I know it. And if she isn't.." She quiets down a bit, slouching and placing her arms on her legs. "I'm not even gonna imagine that." She finishes off her words with an exhausted sigh. She casts the pictures one last glance, before standing and placing them back on the cabinet.

Miles follows her figure, his tone gentle. "Are you feeling better now? Need time?"

Gwen would nod at his words, always thankful for such understanding friends.

"Okay. I'll go. If you need something, don't hesitate to call." He gives her a thumbs up as he leaves the room, closing the door behind him.

For now, Gwen is more than content with her current thoughts about your situation, even with the slim chance you might not survive.

But she doesn't think about those odds. No, not for another second.

—————

Around 2 hours later, Miguel speaks to the doctors working on your spine, as they tell him they can't fix your spine.

"What do you mean, 'We can't fix her spine.' Huh? I've given you all the medical instruments of the future! Fix her damn SPINE." He looks at all of them, mentally and physically drained. His look of anger seems to dissipate when he looks at your body however.

"Her spine is beyond repair. There's too many shatters and fractures and missing pieces. She is quite literally better off with us removing her spine and installing a completely cybernetic one-"

"I don't want to hear it." Miguel sighs, his eyes looking at you on that table, bloody and unconscious.

I can't. When you need me most. Oh, kid..

He thinks for a moment, his face desperate.

You're strong, determined. So I'm hoping you can handle this.

He sucks up his pride, wearing a scowl. "I'll get you the fucking spine. Just.. make sure my kid's okay. And don't mess this shit up." He growls, only proving how serious he is.

They all nod, albeit a few of them scared. Then Miguel leaves the room, readying himself for a long night ahead of him, creating a cybernetic spine.

At that time he rushes to his lair, taking out some blueprints from when he was working in Alchemax.

He scrolls through various different types of cybernetic spines, some that attach to the intact spine to strengthen it, others that just line the spine, then there, full spine replacement cybernetics.

There's only a couple, due to the fact most of them were for cosmetic reasons. But out of the few there were, one stuck out to Miguel, a carbon black color, stemming from the part in the neck to the bottom of the pelvis.

"It looks chunky, but I'll admit, looks practical and badass." He pulls the blueprint down to his workstation, projecting it in front of him. "Okay. Hardest thing is probably how the hell the nerves are gonna work with this. But not my circus, not my monkeys."

Miguel takes a deep breath and cracks his knuckles, calling Lyla.

"Lyla, lock down the lab. I need absolute concentration to finish this in time."

"Hmm? Lock down the lab? What for?" She innocently asks, standing in front of him, on his left.

"You know why. Just do it, you know damn well you don't want the kid to die. She's the only one who tolerates your bullshit jokes." His voice takes an angered tone, as he grits his teeth.

"Alright, fine. But this wasn't for you." She locks down the lab momentarily, giving Miguel a peace sign before disappearing.

He mumbles under his breath about how much he hates her, but he won't do shit to change her.

Anyways, after his little issue with Lyla, he studies the blueprint, although it'd be so much better if his brother Gabriel was here. He always was better than Miguel at technological stuff.

Miguel clears his workstation of anything else other than anything regarding the spine.

"Time to get to work."

—————

Miguel works meticulously, yet still with a fairly quick pace. In around 11 hours, he has the spine done, and if he made it correctly, it should latch onto where the missing spine should be and 'solder' the nerves into itself.

"Hopefully.. this is good." He pauses before continuing to speak, to no one, other than Lyla, who is probably listening. "I need to rest." He breathes for a second, just taking a moment, before moving to deliver the spine to the surgeons, who right now, are probably taking short breaks while they wait.

He walks to the medical wing, the Spider Society HQ quite quiet for 5 a.m. Not many people are awake yet, seeing as Miguel pulled an all-nighter out of his ass to save you.

When he arrives, the surgeons look surprised, their eyes almost popping out of their sockets. Miguel currently looks like a ghost and a vampire had a child, and decided to never let it sleep.

"Here. I promised, and I delivered." Miguel's voice sounds strained, as he hasn't had many liquids either. He's just been so focused on saving you. Losing another person he loves, especially one he sees as a daughter would be devastating for him.

"Y-You got it?! Okay, we'll get right on it." For a few minutes, the surgeons just took a small break, maybe a few minor power naps. Because during the 11 hour period where Miguel was busy on the spine, they got on taking out your spine, part by part. So right now, you just look like muscle and fat, with your back opened up.

They were slow and steady, making sure to not take a risky shot at any point. Either way, they weren't expecting to see Miguel with the spine so soon, especially one that smells fresh off the factory line.

They carefully place the spine on a table, near your body.

At this point, they've given you so much drugs that not even a junkie would have taken this much in their whole life. But it keeps you down and out, so that's what they keep doing.

They disinfect the spine, as they lift it above you, ready to insert the brain stem part first.

All the while, Miguel waits, his face expectant. "Work.. Chingada madre, this better work." His eyes dart from your back to the spine, as they move it in.

The spine acclimates to the area, as it connects itself to the nerves. The surgeons have never seen anything like this, not in video games, TV shows, nothing. They slowly push the rest of it in, the last part in the pelvis a bit of a trickier challenge.

"Yes! YES!" Miguel smiles, his desperation turning into relief as he starts to cry, an unusual action for him. "Y-You're gonna be okay, kid." His breath hitches as he steps back, running his hands through his hair, then down his tired face.

The surgeons finally finish, after 14 hours of straight, hard, no sleep, work, they manage to save you.

They call some nurses to move you to a different room, gently placing you on the bed, hooking up all kinds of medical stuff to you, as Miguel stares at your bruised face.

He can't help but have a small smile on his face, knowing he managed to save you.

Thank God you're okay. Losing you would have sent me off the deep end.

I'm still going to ground you to high hell.

—————

3 days later, everyone's seen you in the hospital, resting. And at that time, Miguel stands next to your bed, arms crossed.

"Doctor says you should be waking up around now." His voice stays monotone, not wanting to let an inch of emotion out. "But I know you. You'll wake up unexpectedly and keep your eyes closed to surprise everyone." He'd chuckle, the corner of his mouth turning up.

There's silence for a few moments, before you start groaning.

Huh.. que chingadas..

You rustle around for a second, as Miguel's eyes stay on you. Slowly, you open your eyes, the lights of the room bright, as you get readjusted.

"Ugh.. my head. Jesus, f-" You don't dare finish that sentence the second you see Miguel right next to you. "Miguel.. Wh-What happened? How long I been out?" You try not to speak too loudly, given that you haven't spoken in the last 4 days.

"You've been out for a few days, kiddo. Anything hurts like you're gonna die?" He pulls a chair next to you, leaning back in the chair, arms on the armrests. "Or are you feeling good?"

You nod, your head still feeling a big groggy.

"No, 'stoy bien. But.. What happened? And where is everyone?" You sit up, touching your back and feeling the outside of the spine. You recoil your hand at the touch, as Miguel sighs.

"Ah, your spine was too damaged to repair. They.. removed the whole thing and I made you a new one. Like from that Cyberpunk 2077 game you like to play. And everyone.." He clicks his tongue, as he presses some stuff on his watch. "..is coming now."

You look happily surprised, a large grin making its way on your face. "Thanks Miguel. Siempre me ayudas cuando te necesito." He smiles at your words, as he pulls you in for a quick hug.

"Siempre, mija." He takes an affectionate tone, as he lightly squeezes your shoulder, letting go of the hug.

Not even a minute later, the 4 musketeers show up, with smiling faces.

Your eyes light up at their appearances, especially after seeing Gwen's relieved face. She smiles, and you can see that tooth gap you love so much. Then you see the cast on her arm, but decide to bring it up later.

Miguel follows your gaze, landing on Gwen. He looks back at you and just smiles, as they approach.

"Heard sleepin' beauty was finally awake from her kip. Gwenny here was in bloody shambles the entire time. We were too, 'course, but, ah, she barely slept, ate—" Gwen interrupts Hobie, nervously laughing, trying to keep her collected persona intact.

"He's uh.. exaggerating." She walks over to the right side of the bed, crossing her arms as she glares at Hobie near the head of the bed. "But I'm really happy to see you're okay."

Everybody else other than Miguel either awws, or oohs.

Meanwhile, you just keep your eyes on her, smiling like an idiot. "Thanks, Gwen. Means a lot to hear you say that." Then your eyes move to the three dudes bunched up together at the head of the bed.

"And you three, what no, 'Congrats on not dying!' shit? Nothing? Damn, leavin' me out to dry here."

Miguel enjoys the active atmosphere around him, but he has work to do, so he leaves, giving everyone a quick goodbye and you, one last hug.

After he leaves, Miles sits down in the chair Miguel was in, leaning back.

"So how long you gotta be here? Few weeks?" Miles asks, as he looks around the room.

"Not sure, I doubt a few weeks. Maybe another few days. Just gotta get used to the new spine, I guess."

"New spine? Fucking cool."

You spend the next hour talking with all of them, as they recap what's happened over the last few days you were out, nothing much.

After the hour's over, Miles is the first to say goodbye, as he has something to do with Margo. Then Hobie and Pav have training to do, as they said, 'He needs to learn to not be such a pussy!' 'Says you!'

Regardless, you don't mind as they leave, because that gives you some time to talk to Gwen, alone.

She walks to the chair, sitting down.

"I haven't asked you if you're okay yet, have I?" You turn towards her leaned back figure, wanting her to be completely honest with you.

"No, you didn't. But, I'm fine. Honest." You raise a brow to that, knowing she's not completely telling the truth.

"The cast?"

"Oh, this? Just to stabilize my arm after the break." Your heart drops hearing that, as you take a breath.

"Your arm broke?" You say, pausing as you look at it. "Shit." A mumble under your breath, as she sighs, gently punching your shoulder with her right hand.

"Yeah, it broke, but it's fine. I'll be fine, don't worry." She smiles, with a slight nod at the end.

You tiredly sigh, mindlessly grabbing at the blanket on top of you, thinking. "You know," You didn't use the 'y'know' combination, so Gwen knows this is serious. "The entire time, while I was out, you were the only thing I was thinking about." You keep your voice quiet, as your face expression is soft.

"I like you, Gwen. And I wanted to say that now because who knows if something like this happens again, to either of us, but we don't survive?" Your words are raw, coming straight from the heart.

Every time you've envisioned yourself telling her this, it's always been during a rainy day, particularly on the roof of the Spider Society HQ. Either way, you never got far enough to see what she'd say.

But now, you've shot your shot, and you're hoping you don't miss.

Gwen bashfully smiles, looking from your hand to your face. "I like you too. It took me a while to realize, but I know."

You turn your body slightly to face her, butterflies in your stomach. "Good. I thought I made it kind of obvious." A gentle laugh emanates from you, as she looks at you, from your smile to your nose, to your eyes.

"Obvious? I don't think you were obvious if I didn't catch on to it."

"No, you're just super oblivious."

She stands up, leaning on the guardrails on the bed. "Oblivious, huh?" She chuckles, leaning in.

You smile, moving a hair out of the way, then pulling her in for a kiss. Your hand moves to her neck, with your thumb on her cheek. Her soft lips connect with your slightly chapped ones.

It lasts for a few moments, before you separate, dumb excited grins on your faces.

"Was that obvious enough?"

"Hmm, no.. I think you'll have to show me again."

You laugh, looking all around her face, remembering every little detail, down to the last almost invisible freckle.

You'll never forget this, mainly due to the fact that right afterwards, your heart rate monitor spiked and some nurses came in and saw you guys. Now, that, you'll never forget, because Gwen was there with you.

(If yall are at all curious as to what the spine would be here it is, cyberpunk77 reference 🫶🏼🗣)

[dell-amor-te]

“Of Blood, Bindings, & Burdens Halved”

Part 1 of 2.

Word Count: 4,672.

Warning(s): Canon-typical injuries, literal hurt/comfort, no beta but I try my best.

Pairing: F!Rook x Lucanis Dellamorte.

Summary: Healers make the worst patients. And ancient elven gods make for the worst to ask for straight answers from.

🐦‍⬛Read on ao3.

It gave Nöa great delight to know that she was the exact opposite of most magisters.

She wore every scar and flaw on her body with pride, badges of honor and survival only she could claim. Not to mention the bounty of tattoos she had accumulated over the years, each one to better channel her magic. While mages like Zara Renata spilled the blood of others to preserve their body as some untouchable monument to perfection, Nöa often spilled her own blood in order to ensure that she was able to survive to fight another day, to earn another scar.

Some would (and had) called her self-sacrificing.

She would (and had been known to) disagree with that sum.

Her mother’s clinic was where she could first remember seeing a wound tended. A deep cut that had been earned in a wood-chopping accident. Nothing her mother hadn’t seen and treated a hundred times before and another hundred times after. Nöa could even remember her mother laughing and saying she had seen much worse outcomes to similar accidents.

While her father was undoubtedly adept at using his magic for healing arts when forced into dire straits, and while his command of the dead fostered an extensive anatomical knowledge by nature of his practice, her mother was the undisputed expert.

Nöa had been too young to ever sit under her mother’s tutelage properly, but her mother’s incredibly detailed notes had been a constant advisor as Nöa trained herself. Her education on the subject was less than formal and often supplemented by her father’s lesson in using blood magic as a conduit for aiding in self-promoted healing, and yet Nöa would wager her command of her knowledge could rival any healer across Thedas. And that wasn’t just her pride talking.

Her skill served her very well, and often others, too.

But no amount of medical training would give her the flexibility to treat wounds outside of her range of motion. And despite her knowing this was the natural order of things, when Nöa felt the open wound on her back begin to bleed—profusely, she believed, if the amount of blood pooling down from her shoulder to her leg was indication—she chose to ignore it.

The only people she ever willingly put aside her ego to let treat an injury on her body were her father and Vellora.

Vellora was all the way in Arlathan. Even with the Eluvians, she wasn’t a viable option. Her father was, though. So long as the bleeding didn’t catch up to Nöa before they reached the Lighthouse. She just had to make it back to the Lighthouse, that’s what she kept telling herself.

And also outrun this pack of Ghilan’nain’s hunters. It would be fine. She just wouldn’t think about it.

She uttered a quick spell, reaching back as far as she could to access the spot, trying to play it off as loosening her shoulder. With how many monsters had met their end with her dagger today, it wouldn’t alert any of her companions to its true intent.

Now to hope what little magic she had left would hold things together until they made it back.

“Let’s pick up the pace.” Lucanis said. “Hopefully we can confuse them if we split up once we read the woods. Davrin, Bellara, once we reach the fork, why don’t you split off to the east path. Barring confusion, we can at least even out the odds in smaller groups.”

“Good idea.” Davrin nodded. “Assan, scout ahead, boy. Make sure the path is clear.”

The griffon squawked, ever eager to please.

It was supposed to be some simple scouting out in the Crossroads. No big fuss. Scout some of the paths, clean up any potential Darkspawn hordes. Nothing Nöa, Bellara, Davrin, and Lucanis couldn’t handle. Especially with Assan around.

What they hadn’t accounted for was Ghilan’nain apparently being hit was a stroke of inspiration.

These new beasts of hers, whatever they were, were some of her most grotesque yet.

Nöa made sure she matched her pace to Davrin’s as their group headed for a fast-approaching treeline. They were all frighteningly familiar with the Crossroads at this point, but they still had to keep their wits about them as they traversed its winding paths.

Nöa tried not to ignore the sound of the blood puddling in her boot, how it squelched with each pounding footstep.

Dear Mythal, her sock was soaking wet.

Was it that or her rapidly dropping blood pressure that was making her feel so nauseous?

“Shock troopers!” Davrin shouted.

“They’re gaining ground!” Bellara grunted, shooting back an arrow to take one down that was keeping stride with them along a nearby outcropping of rocks.

Only one thing to do, then.

“Follow my lead!” Nöa issued in quick order.

The group obeyed, following her off the path. As soon as they were all clear, Nöa turned, taking a stand in front of her companions. She pulled her staff from her back, nearly cursing her own body at the shock of pain—and then there was nothing, numbness, that spread through her fingers—as she lifted it in front of her.

She ignored it all, focusing solely on her command the Fade, bending it into twisting shapes, using her conduit as kindling, and then—

A wall of fire erupted along the path, reaching hungrily upward toward the Fade-formed sky.

She laughed, despite herself. “That should buy us some time.” The elf managed, panting.

The small victory was short-lived.

“Hey, Nöa…are you bleeding?” Bellara asked warily.

Nöa looked down at the earth beneath her feet numbly. Sure enough, there was a puddle of blood soaking the ground.

Her blood.

“Nöa?” Bellara put a hand on her fellow Veil Jumper’s shoulder carefully.

“Oh, I’m fine.” Nöa said brusquely.

She couldn’t bring herself to lift her staff back behind her to its holster. She didn’t want to let go of it, frankly, unsure her knees would hold her.

“Come on, we’re almost to the fork—”

It was Davrin’s hand that kept Nöa face from meeting the dirt personally.

“Fine, huh?” The Warden raised a dubious eyebrow.

“I’ve had better days.” She relented, locking gazes with him. “It’s my back. Near my right shoulder.”

“May I?” Davrin asked.

“Be my guest.”

“I’ve got her.” Lucanis said, taking Davrin’s place to support Nöa.

Carefully, Davrin moved aside the black cloak that had effectively concealed her present state from the group. The blood had drenched through her white tunic, spreading across the entirety of her back already, the fabric holding fast to her skin. It painted enough of a picture that Davrin didn’t so much as move to adjust her tunic’s neckline to see better.

“Nöa.” Davrin chided. “You should have said something.”

“Look, it’ll be fine until we get back. Speaking of: can we go now?”

“How long did you let this go?” Bellara questioned, fretting.

“I have no idea when it happened.”

“Fine. Then when did you notice it, Panöwen?” Lucanis asked pointedly.

With him still holding her up, there was little Nöa could do to avoid the Crow’s knowing gaze.

“Before we even reached the peak, maybe.” Her breathing quickened as she felt her body begin to work harder to keep her on her feet. “It’s fine, really.” She assured them all. “Once we get back, my father will see to it. I’ll be good as new.”

Lucanis scoffed. “It’s not fine. You’re as pale as paper. We have to at least stop the bleeding now.” He told her. “Come on, we need to get you off your feet.”

“Is this payback for carrying you like a potato sack last week?”

“No. This is so we don’t leave a trail of your blood for those beasts to follow. Here.”

Any shred of the normal sense of camaraderie between the two of them was gone—enough so that it made Nöa comply and Davrin and Bellara wary. While they all knew Lucanis was poised and often the man of fewest words among their group, Nöa tended to loosen him up a bit; a change they were all growing far too accustomed to.

His tone now, the way he was able to take command, reminded them all why the First Talon had favored him as her heir.

Nöa felt her feet leave the ground, but not much else after that. She was able to get her left arm around Lucanis’ neck, leaving her to rest her chin against his shoulder. Lucanis reached down to pick up her sunburst of a staff, holding her securely with one hand.

“You two, meet up with Assan and get back to the Lighthouse. Stick to the plan. We split up. Once this wound’s been dressed, we’ll follow.” Lucanis said.

“What if those things come back? We don’t know what they are, let alone—” Davrin began.

“The fire will hold.” Nöa interjected, ironically lacking some of her usual fire. “It’ll feed on the Fade’s magic, too, which should also keep it from spreading anywhere it shouldn’t. They’ll burn before they can follow.”

“Are you sure you’ll be alright?” Bellara couldn’t help but ask.

“It’ll be fine. Go.” Lucanis ordered, and neither elf disobeyed.

“Just please be careful.” Bellara pleaded, still hesitant.

“I think we’re already past that.” Lucanis said.

“Come on.” Davrin ushered her on.

Bellara sighed, but did as they had been told.

Nöa closed her eyes, feeling fatigued and safe in Lucanis’ arms at once. She didn’t play the damsel well, but right now she felt too off-kilter to argue or really care. But Lucanis was quiet, and that did bother her.

It wasn’t his normal quiet. This was a frustrated silence.

He didn’t say a word as he searched for a place they could shelter while he saw to her injury. He found it, eventually. A clearing far off the main path located after a cautious zig-zagging, just to be safe. He carefully got Nöa situated against a large, moss-dressed stone.

“Alright.” Lucanis sighed, not wasting a moment. “Let’s have a look.”

“You don’t have to. Really.” She half-slurred. “As long as you can help me work a little bit of blood ma—”

“You can’t afford to lose any more blood.” He said sharply. “Besides, your magic is clearly spent. That wall of fire wore you out—your hands are shaking.” He nodded knowingly.

Nöa didn’t have a good rebuttal or a clever word to counter his assessment. Her silence did nothing to set Lucanis’ nerves at ease. She always had a comeback.

“Let me take care of you.” He insisted, his tone softer, lower, but every bit as adamant. “Please.”

“Okay.” A beat of hesitation. “Here. My dagger.” When he looked at her, at a loss, Nöa elaborated. “Open the hilt. There’s herbs inside that can be used to pack a wound and stave off infection.” She grimaced, shifting slightly so he could reach her belt easier. “I think the hit agitated the nerves. I can barely feel, let alone move that shoulder. You’ll have to grab it off my belt. Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” He said, already moving to do just that.

“I can lean forward.” And she managed to do so. Just barely. “You’ll have to get the rest of my gear off, too, I’m afraid. If you cut off that side of my tunic, you should have plenty of access to the area.”

She hated this feeling. This uselessness.

“Right.”

To his credit, he didn’t blush or hesitate. Nöa half-expected him to. And maybe that was unfair of her.

Once he had her dagger from her belt, Lucanis moved again, creating a slit in the hem that ran down her right side before carefully removing the once-white tunic, leaving her upper body exposed to the open air.

“I think I’m more upset about the tunic than the nerves.” Nöa admitted.

“You can’t sew?”

“Skin? Sure. Fabric…not so much.”

Lucanis’ lips twitched. “I cut along the hem. Maybe Nova or Harding can mend it.” He suggested. “Assuming all this blood washes out.”

Nöa sighed. The cool air felt good against her sweating skin. It was probably a shock response—her skin raising its temperature to combat how cool her internal temperature was without proper blood supply.

Lucanis knelt down behind her in a fluid motion, finally able to assess the wound properly. It was deep and jagged, no doubt a lucky, blind stab made as they fled from that first onslaught. Her lacking range of motion was likely owed to a muscle tear.

Nothing Lucanis could mend now, but Emmrich would be more than capable of tending so long as Lucanis stopped the bleeding now.

“Maker, Nöa.” He muttered under his breath.

“Is it that bad?”

“It’s not…great.” He relented at last. “It will definitely scar.”

“What’s one more?” She laughed lamely. “I have a needle and some thread in my bag. I assumed it hit an artery or a vessel.”

“Artery.” Lucanis told her. “Looks like the subclavian to me.” His brow twitched. “Did you hit this with some magic?”

“A little. Before the fire wall. Just to be safe.”

“Stubborn woman.” He grimaced. “It’s partially sealed, anyway. Though the hold is weak.”

“And still exposed, since you can see it.”

He hesitated. “Yes.”

It was far from ideal.

“Lovely.” Nöa exhaled, trying to slow her heart rate. “You know, this would be a nice place to be buried.”

“Hush.”

“You’ve got the rock for my grave marker and everything.”

“Hush.” Lucanis chided more insistently. “And hold still.”

“Yes, ser.” Nöa groused.

“I don’t think this should be stitched.” Lucanis decided after a thorough assessment. “Not yet, anyway. It needs to be packed to staunch the bleeding, but we’ll just be starting the cycle over again when we get back if we close it now. That artery is going to need more than just field care.”

“Whatever these new pets of hers are, you must admit they have good aim.” Nöa mused.

“Here, let’s get you turned over.” Lucanis didn’t feel like ceding that point when it was her blood proving it. “This forward gravity can’t be comfortable.”

“Nothing’s comfortable right now.” She shot back wryly, though she helped him reposition her as best as she could.

Which was fairly well, Lucanis noted.

Once he had her reclined against the stone, Lucanis got to work packing the wound with the herbs from her dagger.

She kept an impressive little apothecary hidden within her dagger’s hilt-compartment. It had to be an expensive upkeep. They were high-quality herbs, and fresh, too. Either she went through a lot of them, which wouldn’t surprise him, or she rotated them out when they began to wilt.

Which also wouldn’t surprise him.

“Make sure you keep the packing even.” Nöa said quickly.

“Healers make terrible patients.” Lucanis muttered under his breath.

“I know.” He could practically hear her roll her eyes. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I much prefer to do the dressing than being dressed.”

“I know.”

He worked in silence after that. The bleeding didn’t stop, not completely. But it would buy them time until he could get her back to the Lighthouse.

He just hoped it was enough.

Lucanis used her sliced tunic as a makeshift dressing, the soft linen sleeves working to tie everything off properly. They decided to bind her arm to her chest in order to keep strain off of her muscles by leaving her arm hanging down at her side.

Once he was satisfied, Lucanis nodded.

“All done?” Nöa questioned.

“All done. We’ll move once everything settles.” He decided, sitting across from her so he could assess her properly.

She was pale, flushed. He could see a sheen of sweat on her forehead, and her hands were still shaking, worse now than before. There was no sign of poisoning in the wound, but he couldn’t rule it out just from sight alone. The blade had left her shoulder wide opened, fileted. The packing would hopefully help draw out any potential poison in the meantime, along with warding off infection.

He noticed when she began flexing her fingers.

“What’s wrong?” Lucanis asked, scooting closer, taking her hand.

Nöa laughed tiredly. “The nerves. There’s a few herbs in that mix that’ll help the agitation, but they numb everything up first. Just making sure my hand’s still attached, is all.

Lucanis’ thumb stroked her trembling knuckles. If Nöa hadn’t looked down, she wouldn’t have even known he was doing it.

“Are you familiar with nerve damage?” The Crow asked.

“More so than I wish I could say.” She bared her teeth for a moment, wincing, but made no sound, trying to make herself comfortable while she talked to him. “When I lost my eye, the impact also shocked the nerves on that side of my body. Through my face, down that arm. It probably got close to my spine, but not enough to do damage there. We weren’t sure they’d ever come back. It took a year before I could use that side of my face again. Another six months before I could move my arm enough to rehab it.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“What can I say? I like a little bit of mystery.”

He needed to keep her awake. The best way to do that was to keep her talking. Knowing her stubbornness, she would understand his intent in spite of the bloodless delirium she was steadily slipping into.

Speaking of Spite—Lucanis was grateful the demon had chosen to remain quiet, though he couldn’t fathom why. He didn’t have the time to consider it, either.

“I’m going to make sure the packing took now.”

“Okay.”

She said it so quietly that Lucanis wondered if he imagined her saying it altogether.

He returned to his place behind her, kneeling down once more. The bleeding was slower, though it still moved far too quickly for his comfort. He sighed, his eyes catching on her scar and ink-covered back.

“Will you tell me about some of them?” Lucanis asked.

“Which ones?”

“How about this one—base of your neck?” He traced a finger along it, even if she couldn’t feel it.

The skin was puckered, raised, but it was covered up by the vine-like ink of her tattoos.

“That was a boring one.” Nöa almost laughed. “I was…fourteen? Nova and I were sorting through our mother’s textbooks, and he accidentally dropped one on me. I had my head in a book, with my neck bent, and he was up on the roving-ladder, and the corner of the leather got me just right. It probably wouldn’t have scarred had I had baba take care of it, but it didn’t bother me and I didn’t want him to freak out, so I let it heal on its own. You can see how well that went.”

Lucanis could almost imagine the scene.

“There should be one, down toward the right side, just above my hip.”

“I see it.”

“Varghast bite.” She said.

“Really?”

She recounted the story as much as her foggy mind and slurring words would allow. She giggled more than she ruminated, truth be told.

There were so many scars littered across her skin. Lucanis didn’t know how she kept count of them all. He certainly couldn’t remember where most of his had come from anymore.

He frowned.

He had never had a reason to see her undressed, but he never could have imagined how extensive both her scars and her body ink were. It was little wonder she had such a high pain tolerance. Her lived experience could rival Caterina’s training.

“I didn’t realize…” Lucanis trailed off.

“We all have our scars. I’m not special.” She said feebly. “Luc?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t feel so good.”

“It’s okay.” Lucanis soothed her. “Rest.”

With the blood flow impeded for now, there was little harm in letting her close her eyes. It could help, even. Keep her body from overworking itself. Spare her from feeling some of the pain, if she was feeling any of it at all anymore.

Before long, she was almost entirely unconscious, and then she was back in his arms, his own cloak settled over her in the place of her blood-soaked one. His footfall was easy, mindful of his gait so he didn’t jostle her or upset the wound. He tried to keep up the pace.

She needed Emmrich, more so than he hoped she knew.

“Mh…” Nöa’s head lulled back against his chest. The rush of his heartbeat, elevated by anxiety, soothed her, bringing only one thought to mind.

Beat. Vhenan. Beat. Vhenan. Beat. Vhenan.

It was his heart she was hearing, not her own.

And yet…

“Ma vhenan.” She barely managed, head cradled against Lucanis’ shoulder.

“Nöa?” His voice was so far away now.

She drifted off, unaware of anything but the warmth of him surrounding her.

Hello, Nöa.

A voice, so much like Lucanis’…but not quite right….greeted her.

I’ve been dying to talk to you. Shame we had to wait until you were dying to have the chance.

…

“Here.”

Lucanis barely registered the mug of hot coffee directly under his nose. It wasn’t until he processed the feeling of the steam hitting his chin that he looked up. His eyes moved, though no other part of him did, wandering up to the face of the person handing him the drink.

Nova smiled tiredly.

“Thank you.” Lucanis supplied, finally accepting the drink.

He didn’t move to actually sample it.

Nova heaved a sigh, resting his back against the windowsill where Lucanis had sat himself hours ago. The Crow hadn’t moved since, except when Emmrich needed someone to hand him something. Half the time Manfred beat him to it, anyway.

The elf hummed, finishing his assessment of the man before nursing his own cup of coffee.

At last, Emmrich seemed to finish his work. He didn’t move from Nöa’s side, but he stood up straight, rather than hunched over as he had been through the hours.

“Well?” Nova prompted his father.

Emmrich didn’t turn to face the two younger men, instead remaining fixed in place by Nöa’s side. He let go of a pent up breath, the sound haggard and drawn.

“I know Crows are trained to tend wounds should they be injured in the field, but I didn’t expect this caliber of care.” The mage admitted, half-lauding Lucanis’ handiwork.

“She handled the worst of it with a spell before she even told us she’d been hurt.” Lucanis corrected himself. “Well, not told us. She didn’t tell us.”

She didn’t tell us. She didn’t tell us. She didn’t tell me.

“Don’t sell yourself short, Lucanis.” Emmrich said quietly, turning halfway to face them. “She’d be in a much worse state if it weren’t for you.” He looked to Lucanis again. “Thank you.”

“She’ll recover?” Nova asked, anxious.

“Nerves and all, I believe.” Emmrich nodded tiredly toward his son.

Nova patted Lucanis’ knee, relief practically flooding the two men.

“That’s all the thanks I need.” Lucanis said soberly, his gaze fixed on the now peacefully sleeping Veil Jumper in front of him.

Emmrich’s thumb stroked his daughter’s forehead for a moment as he looked down at him once more, his mind still working a million paces a minute. He pressed a kiss to the center of her vallaslin, his lips drawn into a thin line.

“You’re going to be alright.” He barely whispered, offering comfort to the sleeping elf.

Lucanis did his best to ignore the way he yearned to do the same. How he wanted to hold her—her hand, her whole being, or just his lips to her brow. Anything to assure his very being that she was going to be fine.

“You should get some rest.” Emmrich advised Lucanis. “You all had a hard enough day before this. Davrin and Bellara got their rest, I would say you’ve more than earned yours now.”

“No. I’m fine.” Lucanis shook his head, stiff. “Illario was dealt a similar wound, once. I treated that one, too. He needed monitoring overnight.”

“I can see to that.” Nova said.

“Allow me. Please.” Lucanis insisted. “I won’t sleep, anyway. Not unless I know.”

Emmrich smiled knowingly at his son before nodding his assent to Lucanis’ request. “Very well. But come get me if she takes a turn…” He put a hand on the younger man’s shoulder, commanding his attention. “Or if you get tired.”

“Yes, ser.”

“Good man.”

“You can come get me, too.” Nova offered, his sister’s ruined tunic tucked in his arms. “She’s my sister.”

“I know.” Lucanis assured. “I won’t take my eyes off her.”

“I suppose I should go let everyone know she’s alright.” Nova decided, sparing one last looking toward her sister. “I didn’t know she could be so quiet.”

Though he was hesitant, Emmrich took his leave with Manfred and Nova both in tow. The skeleton waved at Lucanis as they departed. Lucanis waved back lamely, but it satisfied Manfred.

Alone, Lucanis finally felt himself let go of a breath he had been holding since he laid eyes on the threatening wound on Nöa’s back.

His boots hit the floor of the infirmary—Nöa’s infirmary—without a sound. He crossed the floor, standing where Emmrich had stood for so long.

Manfred had cleaned up while Emmrich worked. Everything seemed so sterile now. Not a drop of blood, and Emmrich had declared long ago that the bleeding had all but stopped entirely. The dressing would need checked overnight for drainage, both as of now, she was sound.

Lucanis pressed his forehead to Nöa’s.

She was nowhere near as clammy as she had been in his arms on their return to the Lighthouse. Her breathing wasn’t erratic. Most of her coloration was back.

If Lucanis didn’t know better, he would have thought Emmrich was a miracle worker.

It promised to be a long night. Though he was hesitant to do so, Lucanis moved away from the exam table turned temporary cot in order to grab a stool from beside Nöa’s desk in the corner of the room. He carried it over to her side before making himself comfortable.

He took her hand in his, watching her as she slept. Wondering.

Vhenan. Ma vhenan.

What did that mean?

He didn’t want to think about it too much. She had been more than half out of her mind at that point, after all. It sounded too distinctive, too elven, to have been mad ramblings or slurring of words. And yet Lucanis couldn’t parcel out what it meant.

And he couldn’t get it out of his mind.

“Solas?”

He had no idea if the ancient elf would answer him.

When the infirmary remained silent and the air remained still, Lucanis gave up any thought of receiving an answer. He wasn’t even sure if he could speak to Solas the way Nöa did. True, they had all seen Solas’ memories from time to time, but did that require the same connection, or something more.

She gave you quite the fright, didn’t she?

Lucanis lifted his head. “You answered.”

You asked for me, did you not?

Lucanis nodded. “She said something. Earlier. I thought you might know what it meant.”

She says a lot of things, Master Dellamorte. To what exactly are you referring?

“It sounded like ma vhenan.” Lucanis said to the empty air. “I think that’s what it was. What does that mean? I assume it’s elven.”

A lengthy pause, so long Lucanis almost thought Solas had elected not to answer, ensured.

It is.

“Which means you understood her.”

I…did.

When the Dreadwolf offered no further explanation, Lucanis worked his jaw.

“So what does it mean?” He asked a little more firmly.

Perhaps it would be better to hear that from her mouth, rather than mine. There is a translation guide in my study, if you can find it.

Lucanis frowned, but decided not to question it. For tonight, he would focus on Nöa. Everything else could come later.

[j-eryewrites]

Long, Long Time

Part Three of A Sinner’s Redemption

Previous | Next

SERIES MASTER LIST | MAIN MASTER LIST 

Word Count: 12.3k

Warnings: Language, mentions of death, mentions of mass killings, descriptions of gore and violence, dark topics concerning mentality. (Let me know if I missed anything)

Author’s Note: Piper and Ellie make up, we get a look into Piper’s past, and Joel starts to warm up to the girls. I had fun writing this chapter, but it’s gonna get a whole lot darker with these next few chapters so get ready for heavy angst. 

It was nice being out in the forest away from the city. Piper had never been out here before yet the longer she was breathing the fresh air and feeling the dirt and tree roots beneath her shoes she knew she never wanted to leave. The scent of the pine trees as their sticky sap oozed out of the bark filled her nose and the noise of the rushing river flooded her ears. 

Joel had come down earlier to do whatever Joel needed to do. Piper didn’t ask. She didn’t feel like talking. Her nose still hurt from when Ellie broke it a day prior. Since her nose still plagued her vital need to breathe, she had an even harder time talking without wincing in pain. 

As Piper neared the water, she saw Joel’s familiar figure crouched over the river bend. It looked like he was resting his swollen hand in the cool water trying to soothe his injury. 

Part of Piper wanted to go up next to Joel and treat her injuries near him. She knew Joel was safe and could barely be trusted; something that Piper loathed to admit. Instead, she slowed her step and turned farther downstream. She’d washed her blood-soaked face and clothes far away from Joel. It was the least she could do to be considerate after losing Tess. 

She missed Tess. It was another thing Piper didn’t want to admit. The young girl scolded herself for feeling an absence from Tess’s sacrifice. Piper had only known Tess a day and a half. Thirty-nine hours and seventeen minutes she had known the woman. That’s all it took. Thirty-nine hours and Tess was able to find a place in Piper’s heart. An accomplishment only her mother, Ellie, and Riley had achieved. An accomplishment that Piper began to fear was a curse. After all, three out of four of the achievement owners were dead. 

Piper shook the thoughts from her head and covered the aches of her heart as she stepped to the river’s edge. Her body ached as she crouched to the ground. Piper decided against squatting and instead sat on the pebbles and round rocks of the riverbed before dipping her hands underneath the crystal-clear surface of the water. 

It was cold. Really fucking cold water. Perfect. The water was even colder as Piper splashed it against her face. After a few more handfuls of water, the river beneath her turned a rusty red before disappearing. If Piper could see herself, she assumed the blood was washing away. She took extra care when splashing water near her nose and the bruising around her eyes that had formed. The ice-cold water felt nice. It soothed her skin and aching bones.

After a few minutes more of cleaning, Piper was finally satisfied. She leaned back away from the river’s edge and sighed. Water ran past her. Morning birds sang their songs from the tops of the trees. They were solemn songs. Although maybe that came from the hurt in Piper’s heart. Everything seemed a bit more depressing after yesterday's disaster. She lost Tess. She lost a part of Ellie. She lost another part of herself. Piper feared that she’d have no more if she lost once more. First was her mother. Second was her childhood. Third was Riley. Fourth was her freedom though Piper had lost that a long time ago. Fifth was Tess. Sixth was a piece of Ellie ergo, seven, a piece of her was also gone. 

On the river’s edge, Piper looked at the remaining pieces of her soul in the palms of her scared hands. The largest share of them all was Ellie. Piper had put a part of herself into Ellie long ago. With a promise, she had become Ellie’s. She felt a few tears fall as her mind brushed over the cracks in the piece. Each crack was deeper than the next, bringing more pain. One or two more cracks and that piece of Piper’s soul would be shattered beyond repair. Ellie was her soul. Ellie was her reason. Ellie was her promise. Ellie was her sister. Ellie. Ellie. Ellie. 

Piper sniffled and wiped away her tears. Ellie and she weren’t talking. Piper didn’t want to speak and neither did Ellie. They had fought. Piper could never remember a time when they did fight. Ellie was angry. Her anger was a scream in the three Fate’s faces. Piper’s anger was an acceptance. There was no screaming, no crying, or fighting. It was silent. It was patient. It was infinite. An anger that could never be satisfied. An anger that one could only be born with. 

Piper sighed. It was growing cold. Her hands were numbed from the river. Her face was damp with its cleansing. No amount of water from the river could ever baptize her anger away. She was born a sinner cursed to fall deeper and deeper into the depths of hell. 

She groaned as she pushed herself up into a standing position. Piper didn’t bother looking back at the river before finding her way back to the makeshift camp. 

꧁_____________꧂ 

“I’m in a motherfucking tree!” Ellie exclaimed as she hugged the trunk of a gigantic pine tree. It was amazing. The thrill of the adrenaline pumping into her veins from the height and the exercise was more than enough to brighten Ellie’s countenance. The air never felt fresher here in the forest. Despite the lack of car exhaust, the QZ’s air always felt stiff almost like you wanted to choke on it. 

Here in the forest a distance away from the Boston QZ the air was air. That’s all Ellie could describe it as. This shit was the real deal. It was real fucking air. It was air that she could breathe freely without coughing. Her lungs cheered as fresh oxygen flavoured with pine and spruce filled the organ to its limits. 

Ellie chuckled at herself. She was throwing a fit over the air quality. Instead of fangirling over the air in her lungs, Ellie decided to move her sights to the view in front of her. 

Being up in the trees high above the ground really allowed Ellie to have the cleanest view of the horizon. Testing her grip, Ellie raised her thumb in front of her to measure the distance the sun was from the ground. She squinted her eyes to get the exact measurement, but the sun was too bright for her to see clearly. Suddenly her grip slipped and some bark from the trunk scraped off and tumbled to the ground. 

“Fuck…” Ellie nervously said to herself as she tightened her hold on the branches keeping her up. 

The ground seemed miles away and Ellie scolded herself. She hadn’t realized how high she had climbed up the tree. Her mind was blinded by the child-like excitement of having the opportunity to climb a tree. Maybe it was time to climb back down. Yet as Ellie’s foot fumbled beneath her, she felt her stomach drop and her palms sweat even more. 

“Shit!” Ellie cried out as she quickly readjusted her grip. Her arms were growing sore. Her mind was screaming at her. She was going to fall. She didn’t feel very brave anymore as the height from the ground taunted her. Maybe Joel was right to warn her and Piper about the boardwalk in the city being scary. 

A branch snapped below and Ellie shut her eyes tight. 

“Need some help there?” Piper asked. 

Ellie’s eye’s opened as she realized she was in no danger of falling…yet. The sight of her sister seemingly irked Ellie. 

“Oh now you talk to me,” Ellie scoffed. The tone of fear was horribly concealed in her voice. 

Piper rolled her eyes and Ellie was amazed that she could see it from where she sat in the tree. Maybe she wasn’t as high up as she originally thought, thought Ellie. Yet when she looked back at the ground the tree seemed to grow in height. Fuck. 

“I’ll help you down,” Piper said and Ellie’s fear seemed to dissipate. “…only if you apologize.” 

“Piper!!” Ellie called out her voice wavering. 

Piper chuckled and Ellie was sure she was rolling her eyes again. However, her mind was a bit more occupied with not falling to her death.

 “You broke my fucking nose, Ellie!” Piper said before clutching the area near her nose. It hurt just talking to Ellie and the angle of her head wasn’t helping with the pain. There was a pause in Piper’s voice as she waited for what, Ellie assumed, was an apology. 

If it was an apology her sister wanted then no fucking way. Piper deserved it. Piper deserved it for–now Ellie wasn’t so sure. 

“...Fine, figure out how to climb down then. If you fall, I’m sure Joel will be just fine taking me to the Fireflies and leaving you behind,” Piper sang as she turned to walk away. Piper winced at her own words. She wouldn’t be fine if Ellie fell. Christ, what was she doing? 

“…Piper! please... I’m sorry, I was–” Ellie shouted. 

“I don’t need an explanation, shithead. Sorry is all I wanted.” Piper explained before returning back to the trunk of the tree. She had to crane her head back quite far to see Ellie’s predicament. 

“Okay, Jesus! How do I get down?” Ellie questioned. She was eager to have her feet touch the ground once more. 

“It’s just climbing backwards. Step down and then move your grip down as well.”

Ellie nodded and tried to do as Piper said when another piece of bark fell to the ground halting Ellie’s movements. “Piper…!?” Ellie pleaded. 

“You’ve got it,” Piper encouraged, …worst case scenario you fall, and break a limb.”

“Piper!” 

“What? Consider it payback for my broken nose,” Piper muttered. 

“I thought you forgave me,” Ellie said as she finally dared to move her body a branch down. 

“No,” Piper corrected. “Just said sorry was enough. 

“Pip–” Ellie said before the snapping of a branch froze her progress. 

Ellie looked down to seek her sister’s comfort, but Piper was no longer looking at her. Ellie followed her sister’s gaze and found Joel. He had an unreadable look on his face as he glanced from Piper to Ellie high up in the tree. After a few moments of observing the fiasco in front of him, Joel heaved a sigh and turned away. 

Ellie took another step down. Her fear of falling and the height dissipated as she grew more confident in her descent. Ellie took another step and then another. Soon the ground was in sight and all Ellie had to do was make the final jump. Her feet hit the floor and she gasped in relief. 

“There you go! You got it.” Piper congratulated her sister with a slight shove. “Why the fuck did you climb a tree if you couldn’t climb down?” Piper laughed. 

Ellie punched her sister’s arm in retort. 

“What?!” Piper rubbed her sore arm. “I was just asking, Jesus.” Then Piper punched her sister in return. Now they were even so long as Ellie didn’t hit back. 

“I don’t know…” Ellie replied. Her voice was no louder than a whisper. Even so, Piper heard her. 

“Yeah, sure.” Piper turned away from her sister and looked over at Joel who was shuffling through his bag. His hand was looking better so soaking it in the river must have done it some good. The next thing Piper noticed was the tiny bumps along Joel’s forearm. He was cold. “You want your jacket back?” Piper blurted out. Her mouth moved faster than her mind. She quickly yanked Joel’s jacket off her back and stuck it out to him. “Mine’s dried now,” Piper muttered. 

Joel just stared at the jacket in her hand. His face was stoic and unmoving. Piper began to think that maybe Joel didn’t want the jacket back since she tainted it with her blood. She was sure she washed it out. Still, Joel did not take the jacket.

Piper sighed and turned to look back at Ellie over her shoulder. Her sister was now sitting comfortably against the tree with the majority of her body in contact with the dirt floor 

There was a thud against Piper’s chest and her hands instinctively reached to catch it. Piper was soon to discover that in her hands lay food. It was what was left over from Joel’s sandwich. Just enough for her and her sister to take a few bites. For a moment, Piper stared at Joel in awe before shaking the expression and passing the food onto Ellie. The younger one needed it more than her. 

Ellie happily took the leftover meal and shoved it into her mouth. “I've never been in the woods,” Ellie said with her mouth full. Her heart had finally calmed down from the adventure of a few minutes prior. “More bugs than I thought,” Ellie noted. It was an invitation for someone to speak. More of an invitation to Joel. Piper had already spoken to Ellie today. When no one spoke, Ellie tried a new tactic. “Look, I've been thinking about…

“I don't want your sorries,” Joel spat. 

Piper sent Ellie a warning glare. She knew that it was too early to talk about it. However, Ellie ignored her sister’s silent advice.

“I wasn't gonna say I'm sorry,” Ellie barked back at Joel. “I was gonna say that I've been thinking about what happened. Nobody made you or Tess take me and Piper. Nobody made you go along with this plan. You needed a truck battery or whatever, and you made a choice. So don't blame me for something that isn't my fault.” 

Piper froze at Ellie’s words. It was the truth. The cold-hearted, brutal truth. Piper glanced nervously at Joel worried that in his silent anger and grief that the worst would happen. His previous threats from before resurfaced in the young woman’s mind. Instead of growing anger in Joel’s face, Piper saw a softness. Joel knew what Ellie was saying was the truth. There was no one to blame. 

The weight of Joel’s jacket carried Piper’s arms down. In his moment of weakness, Piper handed him the jacket. Joel took the clothing from her hands and placed it into his bag. “How much longer?” She asked changing the tense subject. 

“Five-hour hike,” Joel stated. 

Ellie smirked to herself. Now both Piper and Joel were talking again. “We can manage that.”

꧁_____________꧂ 

Piper was surprised to discover that there was a trail to follow. She was sure after twenty years since outbreak day that the forest would be overrun with ferns and other plants. Yet here she was, her feet moving step by step on a dirt path. While it wasn’t as defined as it would have been years ago, it was still enough for Joel to know where he was going. 

He had taken this path many times to Bill and Frank’s. Being in the forest was one of his favourite parts, yet his countenance did not show it. It was a place where he could relax a bit. Just like Piper, Joel appreciated how in the thick of nature there was no one. The Infected stayed near the cities and places with people for them to turn. FEDRA existed in the big cities and the FIREFLIES existed wherever FEDRA was. The raiders kept to themselves but close enough to those that they could raid. There was nothing out here in nature for any of them. Nothing out here except Joel, Piper, and Ellie.

Joel hiked along the path. Ellie was a step behind him and Piper was behind her.  The thick mixture of vibrant green leaves and web-like branches provided the three of them with protection from the harsh heat of the sun. A cover that soon would fade the closer they got to their destination. 

While Piper and Joel were content to enjoy the peaceful silence that the forest provided, Ellie was not. “You've gone this way a lot? No Infected?” Ellie asked Joel. 

“Not often, no,” Joel replied. 

After a while of Ellie’s continual talking the group reached the end of the trail. The dirt path and the tall grass halted as the concrete river cut through the forest. Unlike all other roads, this one was clear. There was not a rusted car in sight. Joel paused for a moment. His head looked side to side before he stepped out from the cover of the treetops, his boot coming into contact with the road underneath. 

“What are you looking out for?” Ellie questioned Joel’s actions. 

“People,” Joel uttered. He was a man of few words and each word he spoke told Ellie he’d rather be doing anything else than answering her questions of child-like curiosity. 

“Oh,” Ellie replied, taking the hint to calm her mouth. 

The sun was unforgiving as it bared down on the trio. Piper rolled up her sleeves and readjusted her backpack so that the coarse material hardly touched her back. Ellie had removed her jacket and tied it around her waist with her sleeves rolled up just like her sister. After a few more minutes of the heat, she stopped to roll up her pants so that they looked more like botched capris. Joel seemed to be taking the heat well. He made no move to cool himself down. 

Ellie considered complaining about the heat but decided against it. She wasn’t the only one suffering from the heat. Instead, she did what she did best, she talked. “Are Bill and Frank nice?”

“Frank is,” Joel stated. 

Piper raised her brow up at Joel, not that he could see her. “So if Frank is nice, then what is Bill?” Piper found herself asking. She would rather be prepared to deal with someone not-so-nice than not at all. 

Joel just looked back at the girl and answered her with a look in his eyes that said ‘I think you know.’ 

“How'd you get that scar on your head?” Ellie asked, catching sight of the scar as the sun glared down on it. 

Joel stopped in his tracks and turned around to the two girls behind him with his hands on his hips. This provided the perfect opportunity for the two girls to reach his sides and walk alongside Joel. 

“What? Is it something lame?” Ellie prodded. She turned to Piper and nudged her arm. “What if he fell down the stairs or something?” 

This earned a smile from Piper. “Maybe he got into a fight with a cat or walked into a door,” Piper giggled.

The two girls were talking about Joel as if he wasn’t there. It reminded me of something he lost during the outbreak. The conversations that his brother and daughter would have whilst he was in the room sounded all too similar to the words coming from Piper and Ellie’s mouths. The pain was threatening to storm his heart. He changed the subject. 

“I didn't fall down any stairs,” Joel said. He should have known those few words wasn’t enough for Ellie to stop talking.  

“Okay, so what then?” Ellie questioned. 

“Someone shot at me and missed,” Joel sighed. 

“See,” Ellie nudged her sister again, “that's cool.” Then Ellie craned her head up to look at Joel. “You shoot back?”

“Yeah,” Joel said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

“You get him?” 

“No, I missed too. It happens more often than you think,” Joel explained. 

“Piper doesn’t miss,” Ellie said proudly looking at her sister. “There’s a reason why FEDRA started using her at 12 years old–” 

For a moment Joel’s eyes flashed a look of intrigue at the two girls before it disappeared as quickly as it came. Piper cleared her throat and looked over at her sister. Ellie knew that look. Her sister’s dark brown eyes were telling her to shut up. 

Except Ellie didn’t want to stop talking. If she stopped talking she’d be thinking more about the unbearable heat. Instead, she continued to pester Joel. “'Cause you suck at shooting or, like, in general?” 

“In general,” Joel answered. His hand unconsciously dropped down to hover over the rifle at his side. 

Ellie’s curious eyes followed Joel’s bruised hand to the gun. She glanced over to Joel’s other side. He had two guns. More than enough to share with her. 

“You know, seeing as it's just the three of us, I was thinking I should pro–” and before Ellie could finish her proposal, both Joel and Piper exclaimed. “No.” 

“Oh for fucks sake,” Ellie grumbled. She looked at her sister with pleading puppy eyes. A secret weapon of Ellie’s. However, the heat of the sun must have negated its effects because Piper was glaring at her sister asking her to try and get a gun. At this rate, Ellie felt like she was never going to get a gun. 

Even in her brooding, Ellie was quick to notice the decrease in Joel’s pace. His steps got shorter and his speed slowed down as they approached a big yellow sign pointing to a building off the road. The words had faded so much over time that Ellie couldn’t make out anything. Instead, she turned her focus on the building Joel was now approaching. 

The building itself was a small gas station.  It looked like it could have been home once with the wrap-around wood porch and style in which the building had been constructed. There were broken power lines that haven’t been used in over two decades. The long black wires flowed in the breeze of the summer day. The parking lot had been overgrown with weeds, tall grass, and some budding trees whose roots were destroying the unnatural concrete day by day. Like all other places Piper and Ellie had been to, there were broken-down cars in the back of the parking lot. The tires had all been sliced open, doors rusted shut and windows shattered. All signs of the post-apocalyptic world. 

As they got closer, Ellie could see the corroded ice coolers alongside the building. She knew they were ice coolers because the big bold red letters were still visible even twenty years later. She smiled, proud that she knew what they were, maybe FEDRA school wasn’t that shit of a school anyway. 

“Cumberland Farms,” Joel stated as if he knew the girls would ask him what this place was called. He turned around to face the girls who were looking around in awe. He forgot that they had probably never had some of this stuff back in the QZ. “Hang back a minute. I gotta grab some stuff I stashed.”

“Stashed?” That piqued Ellie’s interest. Joel winced at her words. He knew he shouldn’t have said anything. “Why do you have stuff stashed here?” Ellie asked. 

“You ask a lot of goddamn questions,” Joel grumbled as he marched up the steps into the gas station. 

“Yes, I do,” Ellie said proudly. Questions were one thing she was good at. “So, are you gonna answer me or what?” 

“We hide supplies on routes in case we find ourselves short on gear, which I currently am 'cause…” Joel waved his hand around motioning to the gun and his backpack. 

Piper nodded in understanding. It was smart to have a stash place. She had one herself in the QZ just in case something happened. Ellie never thought it was necessary. In fact, her sister told her on a few occasions that it was stupid to save stuff for a rainy day. 

Speaking of Ellie, the young girl dashed to the side of the room. Her eyes lit with a fire of excitement at a busted arcade game. It seemed like time had been kinder to the machine as the only noticeable damage was the cracked screen and the layer of dust that covered it in its entirety. “

No way! You ever play this one?” Ellie asked. Neither Piper nor Joel was sure who she was asking and instead chose to ignore her. “I had a friend” who knew everything about this game. There's this one character named Mileena who takes off her mask and she has monster teeth, and then she swallows you whole and barfs out your bones! Ah. Oh, man.” Ellie’s excitement turned sombre. Her expression faltered as she glanced at her dusty reflection in the cracked glass. It was Riley who loved this game so much. It was Riley who showed her the arcade in the old mall. It was Riley who died in that old mall. Riley– “You forgot where you put your stuff.” 

“No,” Joel scoffed as he pushed over shelves and moved debris around the room. “I'm just zeroing in on it. It's been a couple of years.”

Piper chuckled as she helped Joel move things around, which earned her a glare from Joel. Piper took that as her sign to back off and give the old man some space for a bit.  

“Okay, well, I'm gonna take a look around, see if there's anything good. Ellie, come on,” Piper said. She spotted a back room and looked at Ellie. It seemed like the two girls had the same idea. 

“Trust me, it's all been picked over already,” Joel explained. 

“Maybe, maybe not,” Ellie smiled. She looked back at Piper knowing her sister’s insane skills to find things in ‘looked-over’ places. “Is there anything bad in here?” 

“Just you,” Joel mumbled. 

Ellie rolled her eyes and stepped into the backroom. “Ah. Getting funnier.”

The back room was in a horrific condition compared to the rest of the run-down gas station. Piper and Ellie could hardly see the ground underneath their feet. Without a word, the two girls got to work moving around the pieces of collapsed ceiling, a stray desk from the middle of the room, and discarded glass bottles and junk. After moving one particularly large chunk of debris a dome of dust kicked into the air and into Piper’s lungs sending the young girl into a coughing fit. 

Ellie was giggling at her sister’s struggle with the dust cloud when she spotted a latched door on the floor. She crouched down and started to move over the clutter of things covering the hatch. 

“Ellie, find anythi–What are you doing?” Piper wheezed, the dust still lodged in her lungs. Ellie’s brow furrowed in determination. All her focus was on getting the hatch open. 

“Ellie.” Piper coughed. 

“What?” Ellie looked up at her sister and laughed. Piper was covered in dust from head to toe. It looked as if she could have been a statue that had been sitting in the back room for twenty years. 

Piper rolled her eyes and dusted herself off as best she could. “Yeah, yeah, go ahead and laugh.” Once Piper was done, she spotted the object of Ellie’s fixation. “Move over. We’re gonna push this off together,” Piper instructed Ellie as she retrieved her flashlight from her bag. Ellie moved over slightly and got ready to push the remaining blockage off the door.  “On three. One, two, three–” 

“You alright back there?” Joel’s voice cut off Piper.

“Yep!” The girls uttered in a strained voice as they finally cleared the door. With a creak the hatch was open.

Piper stuck out her open hand to her sister.  “Give me your knife.” 

“Why?” Ellie asked. 

“Cause I’m going down there first,” Piper explained. Ellie opened her mouth to refute when Piper continued. “To make sure there’s nothing down there.” 

Ellie sighed and reached into her pocket to pull out the knife. Her morbid curiosity would have to wait until Piper gave the all-clear. Even so, Ellie did not do so without grumbling. 

“Thanks,” Piper said before hopping down into the cellar.

It was a short and soft landing. Once Piper had found her ground, the flashlight went up alongside Ellie’s switchblade. The soundtrack to her brief sweep of the cellar was Ellie’s grumbling. Piper rolled her eyes at her sister’s weakness in showcasing some patience. By the end of her search, Ellie’s grumbling had turned into quiet puppy whines that seemed to echo in the cellar. 

“Jesus, fuck! Fine, come down Ellie,” Piper hissed. 

Ellie doesn’t miss a beat dropping down into the cellar. Her sister’s landing wasn’t as graceful as hers, but Ellie showed no sign of stopping as she jumped to her feet and began to scavenge the empty cellar. Piper clenched her jaw and decided that their way out of this cellar was a better use of her time. As luck would have it there was a metal garbage can near the hatch door. It was tall enough and sturdy enough to serve as a stepping stool for the two girls. 

Piper rolled the trash can over to the spot they had dropped down onto not moments before when Ellie triumphantly cheered. 

“Fսck yeah!” Ellie waved around a fresh unopened pack of tampons. Piper smiled at her sister and made a step to congratulate her when a sickening snarl filled the air. It was low and quiet and could only come from the cellar. 

Piper darted to her sister’s side and flashed the light around. The switchblade in Piper’s hand was ready to be used at any second. Ellie stepped behind her sister and used her own light to look around. 

It was Ellie’s beam that caught sight of the Infected first. Like a spotlight, the two flashlights landed on the body caught underneath a foot's worth of brick, stone, and debris. It was a pathetic excuse for an Infected, as it flailed around trying to reach the girls. It growled at them with silent sorrow. Its’ yellow eyes glossed over reflecting the light from their flashlights back at the girls. It almost looked human if it weren’t for the fungus that was creeping outside of the creature’s cracked skull.

Piper was mesmerized by its sorrow. A creature that was the cause of the downfall of the world lay trapped in its own undoing. Still, the thing was still so desperate to get out, to get to the girls, to feed, to bite, and to convert. Its’ life’s only purpose was keeping the monster going in the dark, cold, and wet cellar of a broken-down gas station. Piper felt a bile rise in her stomach looking at it. The sick wasn’t from the creature itself, but her own mind. She saw herself in that thing. She was buried under the pressures of life and the traumas of her mind. The one thing keeping her going in the sinister trap of her mind was the promise. It’s you and me until the end. 

Ellie’s mind had a different path set. The years of anger and pain came boiling up to the surface. The hot liquid of her sorrows only fueled her fury. Ellie found herself stepping closer and closer to the Infected. She only stopped until she was just out of arm's reach of the creature. The perfect taunt. She watched how the creature writhed in pain as it put everything in its being to reach her. It was only fair for it to suffer. It was the thing that destroyed the world. It was the thing that brought an end to the things she loved and the life she could have lived. Her legs bent down as she crouched to the ground. Ellie’s thought was a wire with a new purpose. In her blood, was the cure. The end to the end. She’d save everyone. She’d save Piper. She’d saved them all for those she couldn’t save. She put an end to each creature. Let the people go and the monster dies. She hoped that her blood would make them suffer. She hoped that something in her made them shrivel up and die. It was only fair. Pain for pain. Suffering for suffering. However, Ellie wasn’t sure how much pain was enough. Maybe nothing ever will be. 

Silently, Ellie extended her hand behind her. Her finger stretched out to Piper. There was only one thing she could want, and so Piper obliged. It was the only thing she could ever do. Ellie was her purpose and Ellie asked. 

With the shiny silver switchblade in hand, Ellie raised it to the creature. Its’  eye followed her movements. The failing stopped as it realized its defeat. Its purpose would be its end. And in the Infected’s acceptance, Ellie sliced open the decaying skin of its head. There was a thud. A sickening gasp followed. Then all fell quiet. The Infected dead with Ellie’s blade lodged in the centre of its head. Its’ lifeless eye on the young girl, frozen on the spot. 

꧁_____________꧂ 

He finally found it. Joel leaned over and pulled out his spare supplies as he grumbled to himself. He was getting old and was sure that his mind would never be able to remember this spot again. He contemplated finding a different spot, but then it would just make it easier for raiders and other stragglers to find the gear. However, Joel was smart. With a quick look in his bag and a scan of the supplies, he concluded that he could just take it all with him. 

A few canned foods, ammo, and some first aid supplies were all stuffed into his bag. He stood up and lugged the bag onto his back. It was heavy and would slow down his step, but that was better than some other fucker getting his goods. As he adjusted the bag, the sound of silence grew louder in Joel’s ear. With how loud the two girls seemed to be, silence was never a good thing. 

“Ellie? Piper?” Joel called out. His words were met with the clanking of metal, yet there was no reply. His throat tightened and he felt his heart pick up in pace. “Girls!” Joel yelled. Again there was silence. He cocked his gun and walked to the back room. The door was closed. “Ellie? Piper?” Joel said as he turned the doorknob and pushed the door open with the tip of his gun. 

“Picked over, my ass,” Ellie uttered as she flung the door open and walked out of the back room. She waved the Tampax in Joel’s face with a smug look on her face.  

Then Piper came out behind her. “You better fucking share with me,” she told her sister. 

“You wish,” Ellie joked as she opened the Tampax box taking a handful and stuffing them into her bag. Then she handed Piper the rest to carry in her bag. 

Joel watched the two girls as they shared the tampons like popcorn, passing them back and forth until they were split evenly. The girls were fine. Good. Joel turned around and made his way back to the storage spot before dropping his empty rifle into the hole.  

“What are you doing?” Ellie asked as she watched the weapon be discarded. 

“There's not much ammo out there for this thing. Makes it mostly useless,” Joel explained. 

“Well, if you're just gonna leave it there,” Ellie suggested.  

“No,” Joel growled. The last thing he needed was a teenager with a gun; loaded or not.  Without another word, Joel trudged to the door and out of the gas station. 

“I’ll get you a gun, sooner or later,” Piper whispered to her sister. She patted her sister on the back and made her way to follow Joel. 

“This one?” Ellie asked with a pleading look in her eye. 

Piper turned around to look at Ellie. “Nah,” Piper shook her head. “no ammo. Plus how the fuck would we hide the thing from Joel?” 

Ellie nodded solemnly. Her sister's promise did somewhat ease her want for the weapon. Hell, Piper promised, and when Piper promises she keeps them. It was something that Ellie knew well. 

꧁_____________꧂ 

“People are driven by fear and desire,” Levi told Piper. “The two sides of the same coin that everyone carries with them.”

Piper swung her legs back and forth on the ledge and nodded her head in acknowledgement. Her mouth was occupied with the sandwich whose ingredients were smuggled into the QZ. 

Piper liked Levi. He was a guard working for FEDRA and he had a soft spot for her. He gets smuggled goods for her and her sister and treats Piper to ham and strawberries. Food that people would kill for in the QZ. Yet for some reason, Levi got them for her. 

As the two of them sat on the playground in the QZ watching the other kids play, Piper couldn’t help but think that Levi was an older brother of sorts. While she watched over Ellie, Levi watched over her. He showed her the ropes, told her the places to avoid, and told her to trust in him and only him. He’d keep her safe. 

“Piper!” Ellie screeched as she ran up to her sister on the swing set. The young girl tapped Piper on the shoulder and ran away as she screamed “You’re it.” 

Piper giggled as got up running after Ellie and the other children who were playing. It was only fair if she got Ellie back for tagging her. It’s how these games went. It might as well have been called tag the person who tagged you or tag back. 

A whistle blew and the children were ushered back inside the facility. The sun had set over the city. The sky was a bright orange merging with the dark purple of the night. Levi wasn’t sitting on the ledge when Piper looked behind to say goodnight. 

꧁_____________꧂ 

Despite the warmth of the sun falling down on Piper, there was a chill under her skin. It was chill and seemed like it would never go away with how fast it spread on her body. 

Joel and the girls were walking along a dirt road. Green hills of grass and wildflowers were found alongside the road. Green leaves from the trees near the street shimmered in the sun like diamonds as they rattled in the breeze. Birds sang their songs and all was peaceful. 

“Holy sh¡t!” Ellie exclaimed as she pointed to the top of a hill near the road. “You fly in one of those?”

Piper turned her head to look where was pointing. It was a plane. In all its glory shattered in pieces against the ground. It was a distance away, yet Piper could clearly see inside the machine with the wings and side ripped off from the impact. She had heard a few tales from her teachers in the QZ about planes. Something that would take you into the sky and you’d be across the country in a few hours. It seemed impossible, but so did the outbreak. 

“A few times, sure,” Joel noted. He didn’t pay the plane much attention as he continued to walk along the path. 

“So lucky,” Piper muttered. 

“Didn't feel like it at the time,” Joel grumbled. “Get shoved into a middle seat, pay 12 bucks for a sandwich.”

“Dude, you got to go up in the sky!” Ellie said with all the excitement her vocal cords could produce.  

“Yeah, well, so did they, “Joel replied. 

Piper’s eyes widened. Ellie’s excitement had been killed. “Grim. So, everything came crashing down in one day; literally and figuratively?” Piper asked as she pointed to the plane on the hill. 

“Pretty much,” Joel said. 

Ellie pursed her lips in confusion. “How? I mean... no one was infected with Cordyceps, everybody's fine, eating in restaurants and flying in planes. And then, all at once? How did it even start? If you have to get bit to be infected, then who bit the first person? Was it a monkey? I bet it was a monkey!” 

Joel sighed. “It wasn't a monkey. I thought you went to school.” 

“FEDRA school,” Piper spat. “They don't teach us how their shitty government failed to prevent a pandemic.” 

Joel rubbed the back of his neck. Both at a pause for Piper’s statement, but also how to answer Ellie so that the creation of more questions could be squandered.

“No one knows for sure, but, best guess... Cordyceps mutated. And some of it got into the food supply. Probably a basic ingredient like flour or sugar. There were certain brands of food that were sold everywhere, all across the country, across the world. Bread, cereal... pancake mix. You eat enough of it, it'll get you infected. So the tainted food all hits the store shelves around the same time, Thursday. People bought it, and ate some Thursday night or Friday morning. Day goes on... they started to get sick. Afternoon, and evening, they got worse. Then they started bitin'. Friday night, September 26, 2003. And by Monday, everything was gone.” 

Ellie kicked the ground. “I like the monkees idea better,” she mumbled. 

Piper chuckled and then turned to Joel.”It makes more sense than monkeys. Thanks.” 

“Sure,” was all Joel could say. Then he halted. His step was unsure as he glanced back at the girls. 

“What?” Piper asked, noticing Joel’s hesitancy. 

“We'll cut across the woods here,” Joel instructed. 

Ellie raised her brow. “Isn't the road easier?” 

“Yeah, it's just…” Joel paused. “There's stuff up there you shouldn't see.”

Ellie smirked. “Well, now I have to see.” 

Joel raised his hand out in front of Ellie as she tried to find the source of Joel’s concern. “I don't want you to. Serious.” 

“Ellie, come on,” Piper said.  

Ellie turned around and walked backwards as she conversed with Piper and Joel. “Can it hurt me?” Ellie asked. 

“No,” Joel said too quickly for his own liking. The quick remark only furthered Ellie’s curiosity as her pace quickened into a jog. Her curiosity only grew with each step closer to whatever it was that Joel didn’t want her to see.

Joel sighed and cursed himself. He was rusty and forgot the power of a kid’s curiosity. You say no and the kid is gonna do exactly what you just said. 

“You're too honest,” Piper told Joel as they walked over to where Ellie stood. It seemed like she found what Joel was trying to conceal. “Should've said ax murderer,” Piper smiled. 

Joel had to double-look to make sure he saw Piper correctly. She had just smiled and made a joke. It was something he was sure was only reserved for Ellie. Despite this newfound discovery, Joel’s face remained ever as stern. 

“Fuck…,” Ellie muttered once Piper and Joel were standing right next to her. “Uh... whatever it was... think it's gone.”

Piper agreed. Fuck about summed up the horrific mass grave in front of them. Charred bones were sticking out of an enormous pile of ash. The two girls could make out skulls of all different shapes and sizes. Some of the smaller bones, Ellie was sure, could only belong to a baby. She felt sick to her stomach, with only one question on her mind–why?

Joel could sense the unease coming from the two girls. It’s not every day you find yourself standing over the graves of dozens of people. “About a week after Outbreak Day,” Joel began to explain,” soldiers... went through the countryside, and evacuated the small towns. Told you you were goin' to a QZ, and you were... if there was room. If there wasn't…”

Piper’s throat tightened as memories flashed in her mind. Screaming children, begging parents, pleading people all praying for a chance to survive. She turned away and walked to the other side of the road. Her hands clutched so tightly her nails were breaking the skin. It was the only way to calm herself down. Pain for pain. The commands echoed in her mind. 

‘There’s no room. I’d say it's time for some target practice.’

A gun was placed in her hand. A shot rang out. Then another. Screams filled the air. The horror of a trapped animal brought to the slaughter. Practice makes perfect and so Piper never missed a shot. 

Joel can see the horror in Piper’s eyes as she walks away. Her glossy dark brown eyes reflect the torture of her soul so clearly that Joel isn’t even sure he saw it. It’s a look of a lifetime of pain. A look he always finds in the mirror. His heart wrings itself at the thought. Part of him wants to console her, yet he knows he has no right. Instead, Joel stands still next to Ellie staring at the corpses of the past. 

“These people weren't sick?” Ellie dared to ask. 

“No,” Joel shook his head. “Probably not.” 

Ellie’s face paled. “Why kill them? Why not just leave 'em be?” 

The hurt in Ellie’s voice was what sent Piper over the edge. As the contents of her stomach spilled onto the side of the dirt road, Piper was glad that she hadn’t eaten anything this morning. She’d rather have her throat burn than waste any food. 

Joel clenched his eyes shut at the sound of Piper’s sick. “Dead people can't be infected.”

꧁_____________꧂ 

Guilty. Guilty. Guilty. 

The words rang like a bell forcing Piper to remember every minute of every hour of every day. She was guilty. There was no doubt about it. No one could protect her. Levi was gone and Piper was alone to fend for herself against FEDRA. 

No one cried any tears when the twelve-year-old received her verdict. It was all swept under the rug along with the bodies and the lies. Piper wished someone could cry for her because no tears seemed to fall from her eyes. She wanted to cry but everything was numb. 

The hallways were empty as she returned to her room. Her face and shirt were wet, but not with tears. Everything was quiet. The floor didn’t creek like it used to under her feet. The running water never dripped or splashed as Piper baptized herself under the tap. The towel never rustled against her skin and hair. The bed never groaned and squeaked as she laid down next to her shivering sister. 

Piper couldn’t sleep and she was sure she never would again for her mind was trapped in its own self-inflicted prison. 

Guilty. Guilty. Guilty. 

꧁_____________꧂ 

Silver fence as far as the eye could see. It looked so out of place wrapped around the small town full of brightly coloured homes and buildings. The barbed wires and warnings of electric death only furthered Piper’s concern about the whole ordeal. She remembered what Joel had told them earlier. Frank was nice and Bill…Piper imagined Bill to be the death trap of a fence protecting the sweet and welcoming town inside. Part of her hoped that she wasn’t true. 

Joel’s face tensed as he looked at the neighbourhood in front of him. It felt dead. Even the world inside the fence seemed stale, a fate Frank would rather die than see come to pass. “Stay there,” Joel told the girls as he approached the gate. The girls ignored him and continued to walk alongside him. 

Four buttons are pressed on the keypad. A ching noise rang out. The gate was opened and they all stepped inside allowing Joel’s concern to grow.

 “What the fսck? Bill? Frank?” Joel called out as his pace quickened. He marched to a large white house. Pots once filled with beautiful blooming flowers now lay wilted. The sun had soaked up every source of life on the street. “You two stay there. Ya hear anything, you see anything... yell,” Joel commanded as he opened the black door with peeling paint.

The girls paused for a moment before entering the home after Joel. It was beautiful. Walls painted vibrant colours that Piper and Ellie had never seen before. The blue in the living room called out to Piper beckoning her, and at that moment she knew what her favourite colour was. There was a couch untouched by moths and time, a piano in perfect condition, paintings and art supplies stuffed in a corner of the room, and a rug that wasn’t covered in dirt and mud. For a moment, the two girls could finally imagine what it was like before the outbreak. At last, the two girls could see what a real home could look like. 

“What if they're gone?” Ellie whispered to Piper as she strolled into the dining room. Wine bottles open, glasses lay empty, and leftover food lay rotting. 

Piper found herself gliding over to the piano. She had only heard of these things before and only once had she heard one being played. Another kid in the QZ had a tape of piano songs. Piper only got to hear it once before it was taken away. Curiosity got the better of the girl and she lifted up the covering for the keys. The white and black keys glistened in the sunlight that crept through the window. Her fingers hovered over the keys waiting for the right moment. She had to remember this for the rest of her life. Her pointer finger found a key and pushed it down and the piano sang. It was a chord that struck her soul. 

“Ellie? Piper?” Joel said as he walked back into the main room. He saw Piper’s awe of the piano. He could see the love she had for the instrument. There was a shuffling behind him causing Joel to turn around. 

Ellie raised a slip of paper into the air as she sat down on one of the chairs at the dining table. “It's from Bill,” Ellie explained. Joel stood there watching her, not a thought in his mind or a word in his mouth. Ellie took his silence as an okay and began to read. "To whomever... but probably Joel.” 

Joel adjusted his stance as Piper entered the room upon hearing Ellie’s voice.  

Ellie looked up at Joel worried she had offended him. “I figured I fell under whomever. Came with this.” 

Ellie passed a set of dusty keys over to Joel. He removed his bag and snatched up the keys. Piper took that as her chance to move and pulled out a chair to sit down on. 

“So they're dead?” Piper asked as she observed Joel holding the keys. 

“Mm-hmm,” Ellie nodded. “You, you wanna?”  Ellie offered the letter to Joel. 

“Go ahead. You do it,” Joel replied as he stepped back waiting for Ellie to read the message Bill and Frank had left him. 

"August 29, 2023. If you find this... please do not come into the bedroom. We left a window open so the house wouldn't smell, but it will probably be a sight. I'm guessing you found this, Joel because anyone else would've been electrocuted or blown up by one of my traps. Hehehehehehehehe.”

Piper winced at Ellie’s attempt at a written laugh. Ellie stuck her tongue at her sister before continuing. 

“Take anything you need. The bunker code is the same as the gate code but in reverse. Anyway... I never liked you, but still, it's like we're friends... almost. And I respect you. So, I'm gonna tell you something because you're probably the only person who will understand. I used to hate the world, and I was happy when everyone died. But I was wrong because there was one person worth saving. That's what I did. I saved him. Then I protected him. That's why men like you and me are here. We have a job to do. And God helps any mοthеrfսckеr who stands in our way. I leave you all of my weapons and equipment. Use them to keep..." 

Ellie’s throat caught on the next words. Tess. She couldn’t say it. Piper sat up in her seat watching her sister’s sudden wave of silence. 

Joel clenched his jaw and grabbed the letter from Ellie’s hands. His eyes scanned the paper over until he reached the line that caused Ellie’s hesitation. 

Joel couldn’t stand it any longer. The stench of dust in the air was clogging up his lungs. His eyes burned aching to find some release. “Stay here,” he said to the girls before darting out of the house and shutting the door behind him. 

The sun seemed to be shining even more than usual when Joel emerged from the house. ‘Use them to keep Tess safe.’ The wilting flowers, the dead brown yard, and the peeling paint. Each thing he looked at glared in his face like a headstone in a graveyard. It was inescapable. The letter was read. The paper now lay crunched up in the palm of Joel’s hand. He wanted to squeeze the letter so tight that it vanished from existence. He wanted to wash away the effects of Bill’s words. He wanted to clean himself of the pain, the memories, and the emotions. So the first time in a long time, Joel cried. It wasn’t a sob or a cry that brought you to your knees. No, Joel’s face bunched up and a single tear fell down his cheek. Joel knew better than to stand there and cry. The heavy weight of a key in his hand reminded him of the weight of what he promised to the dead. Joel knew better than anyone that the best way to mourn was to move on in the world of the living. 

꧁_____________꧂ 

Joel was surprised to find both Ellie and Piper exactly where they were when he left the house a while ago. He was sure they would have at least explored the house. Instead, it seems they explored dust art as tiny stick figures and horrible renditions of animals and flowers now decorated the table. 

“Show me your arm,” Joel asked the two girls. Piper was the first to stick out her arm. The wound had scabbed over and was beginning to fade. Ellie’s bite mark was only a scar on the skin of her arm. Joel thought back to Tess’s words. This was real, these girls are real. 

“I just finished makin' a truck battery. It's charging right now,” Joel told the girls. 

“Okay…” Ellie said. 

“I have a brother out in Wyoming,” Joel explained to two girls. “He's in some kinda trouble, and I'm heading out there to find him. And my guess is he knows where some of them are out there. Maybe they can get you to wherever this lab is.”

“All right,” Piper agreed. 

“Uh, listen, about Tess, uh…,” Ellie began to say when Joel cut her off. 

“If I'm takin' you with me, there are some rules you gotta follow. Rule one, you don't bring up Tess. Ever. Matter of fact, we can just keep our histories to ourselves. Rule two, you don't tell anyone about your... condition. They see that bite mark; they won't think it through. They'll just shoot you. Rule three, you do what I say when I say it. We clear?” 

“Yes,” Ellie nodded her head. 

Joel turned to Piper. “Repeat it.” 

“What you say goes,” she muttered. 

“Okay,” Joel sighed as he looked around the room. 

“So, what now?” Ellie asked. 

“We grab what we can,” Joel said. He waved his hand telling the girls to follow as he led them to Bill’s bunker. 

80s music was blaring from the computer’s speakers, and Joel knew a headache was coming. Immediately, he marched over to the computer and silenced the sound. 

“Ho-ly shit,” Ellie was in awe of the bunker. “This guy was a genius.”

“Why was the music on?” Piper asked as she hopped off the ladder. 

“If he didn't reset the countdown every few weeks,” Joel explained,” this playlist would run over the radio.”

“'80s,” Piper whispered as she glanced over the wall of firearms. Some of which looked brand new. 

“Grab some cans from over there. Nothin’ dented or swollen,” Joel instructed the girls as he pointed them to the corner of canned goods. 

“Dude,” Ellie uttered, she pointed to the wall of guns. A hopeful look was born in her eyes. 

“No,” Joel said, squandering the hope in Ellie’s gaze. 

“But there's a wall of them…Piper?” Ellie pleaded.

“Let’s go, Ellie,” Piper replied.

Ellie groaned and her whole body heaved over. Piper chuckled at her sister’s dramatics before Piper moved to the canned goods and began to stuff bags full of food. 

꧁_____________꧂ 

The whole house was stocked with things that were a rarity in the QZ. Ellie found an entire closet full of toilet paper and women’s toiletries. It was a fucking gold mine. As Ellie filled bag after bag, Piper stood in the kitchen rummaging through the food. She had never seen some of the spices and foods that were stored in Bill and Frank’s kitchen. Part of her wished that she could have lived here with them in this life of luxury as the rest of the world fell apart.

“Needs another hour,” Joel said as he closed the front door behind him. He walked over to Ellie and looked at the bags before nodding and doing the same for Piper. 

“Come on, you two,” Joel uttered as he walked up the stairs to the second floor of the house. 

There were fully decorated homes with beds. The rooms had beds that were in amazing condition compared to the wilting mattress of Piper and Ellie’s bunk beds. The two girls would kill to have at least one night's rest in this palace of a home. 

Joel led them into a room and cracked open the closet doors before dropping cardboard boxes onto the bed. 

“Look in there,” Joel said before reaching into a box labelled men's shirts for himself. 

Piper and Ellie smiled as they walked over to the boxes full of new and clean women’s clothing. There were thick jeans unworn by anyone and shirts without holes and any signs of thinning. 

“Grab an extra shirt Ellie and a warm–” Piper began to say as she shuffled through the piles of clothing. 

“Yeah, yeah. I know. Grab something warm for when winter comes and extra clothes just in case.” Ellie repeated the words as if she was a robot. 

Piper smiled before placing her hand on Ellie’s head and roughing up her hair making it all go frizzy. Ellie groaned before smacking Piper’s hand away. 

“Alright, got my…holy shit!” Ellie exclaimed as she open a door in the bedroom. Before her was a pristine bathroom. She stepped inside and turned on the water “Piper! They have hot water!” Ellie stuck her head out of the bathroom. “I'm takin' a shower. And then you're showering because seriously.” Ellie waved her hand in front of her nose as she pointed to Piper. 

Piper rolled her eyes as she bagged the last piece of clothing in her backpack. “Oh fuck you, Ellie” Piper smiled. 

꧁_____________꧂ 

They really did have hot water and fuck did it feel amazing against Piper’s skin. As she stood underneath the raining showerhead, she could never recall a time when she did have warm water. If she was lucky to get a shower back in the QZ, all the water was freezing cold. Piper thought that she could get used to how the water eased her aching muscles and soul. She likes the feeling of the water trickling against her skin turning it a shade of pink from the heat. 

For a large majority of her shower, the water that rinsed off her body and hair was a dark brown. One could say it had been a long time since she really cleaned herself. While the river from earlier was nice, it was river water and Piper could only do so much when it came to bathing. 

Piper was quick to realize that the shower had a nice supply of fancy shampoos, conditioners, and body washes. Each bottle with a different scent that pleased Piper’s nose. To be safe rather than sorry, she used each of the five shampoos, the six conditioners, and the three body washes. She even contemplated using the razor to shave, but after remembering she had no recollection of how to wield the blade, she chose against it. 

The water washed away the dirt and grim and crusty blood that had stuck to her skin and some part of Piper believed that it washed the deepest parts of her broken soul. The heat of the water melded together the shattered pieces into one stronger shard. Piper felt renewed. Who knew a shower could do that? 

She shut the water off and stepped out of the shower before wrapping a towel around her body. She practically moaned at how soft the fabric was. All the towels she had ever used before were coarse and left scratches against her skin. Yet these towels were gentle as she guided the towel to soak up any remaining water. 

By the time she dressed herself the steam that had fogged up the mirror evaporated leaving Piper with the perfect view of herself. Her mind was torn from the view. Part of her cherished the sight of her dark eyes and long hair that took forever to dry as they shine in contrast with her pale freckled skin. The other more menacing part caught sight of the bruise along her nose and the dark circles under her eyes. What was worse was the look in her eyes. Piper already knew that she was broken, but to see it? That was a fate no one deserved to have. All of a sudden, Piper wished the mirror was fogged up again. She wished she never looked in the mirror and saw what it saw, so she bundled up her dirty clothes and left the bathroom. 

“It’s your turn,” Piper muttered to Joel as she passed him in the hallway. “I made sure to keep some warm water for you.” 

Joel nodded and took in the sight of the clean yet broken figure of Piper as she glided down the hallway and out of sight. He pushed himself off the wall and entered the bathroom. With a quick check of the water, he knew Piper told the truth. She did leave some hot water for him. 

꧁_____________꧂ 

“You clean up nice,” Ellie whistled to her sister as she stepped off the last stair. 

With a scoff and a raised brow, Piper brushed Ellie’s comment off. “Yeah, whatever.”

Piper glanced up the stairs in the direction of the bathroom and turned on her listening ear. Watering was running. Good. 

Dark eyes scanned Piper’s movement to the basement door. “Where are you going?” Ellie asked. 

“The bunker,” Piper replied as she carefully turned the knob to negate any creaking. 

“But Joel–” Ellie began glancing upstairs. 

“Is in the shower and won’t know a thing if you don’t tell,” Piper assured. The door was now fully open, and the smell of dust lay filled Piper’s nose. 

“...and what about the code?” Ellie pondered. 

A sigh escaped Piper’s mouth. “I saw the code at the gate,” Piper explained, “so I just have to put it in backward: 6791.” She widened her eyes at her sister as if to say ‘duh’ before closing the door and trekking to the bunker. 

Ellie sank deeper into her seat as she picked at her fingernails. For the first time in her life, they were clean. There was no dirt or grime hidden under the nail bed of each finger. It was weird and now there was nothing for her to pick at anymore. Huffing a breath of air, Ellie dropped her head back. Her skull banged against the back of the seat. 

“Fuck,” hissed Ellie as she rubbed her injury. 

Maybe sitting in a hard chair wasn’t the best idea when she was bored. It was then Ellie remembered where she was. It was a house that was a treasure cove of goods. She was sure she could find some good to keep her boredom at bay. Besides, it’s not like Bill and Frank would mind, they were dead. 

While the living room was an enticing start with all the painting supplies and the piano, a small desk in the corner of the dining room caught Ellie’s attention. It was small as it buried itself deep into the corner. The young girl almost would have missed it if it weren’t for the funky shape of the desk. 

Unlike all the other desks and tables Ellie had seen back in the QZ, this one was rounded at the top. While there was a flat surface in the middle, on the sides there were walls that curved to meet the top edge of the desk. The bottom half of the desk was as you’d expect. It was flat with multiple drawers to hold all of one’s belongings. Drawers were the perfect place to search for something to quench boredom, so that’s exactly where Ellie went looking. 

There was the odd thing-ama-gig here and there and by the time Ellie searched through the first drawer, she had found three packs of gum and some toothpicks and pads of paper. Boring. The next drawer was the same. And the next until Ellie’s hands glossed over the top drawer of the desk. 

It was long and thin, and Ellie was sure there wasn’t going to be anything in it. The drawer groaned as it was pulled open. Ellie’s eyes widened. 

“Fuck yeah!” She triumphantly whispered. 

Inside there were two notebooks and upon further inspection, they were both empty. Brand new and just waiting to be used. One for her and one for Piper. There were also some assorted pencils and pens, which weren’t as exciting, but Ellie grabbed them just as well. She needed some to draw with after all. Upon further inspection, she found some magazines and a comic or two. Quickly, she put them in her bag. She was sure she’d need reading material at some point. 

With the drawer closed Ellie sat back in her seat at the dining table and got to work. She always loved to draw and knew she was shit at it, but she remembered that Piper always told her you can never be good without practice. First, Ellie drew a tree to help her remember her adventures from that morning and the thrill of being in the sky. Next was the arcade game she saw in the gas station. However, she gave up after drawing a funky box with weird angles. She’d have to work on dimensions and perception if she was to get any better. The last thing she tried to capture on the blank page of the notebook was her and her sister. She wanted to do better than some stick figures and a bright yellow sun in the sky. At first, there were two circles, which then became ovals. Then there were circles for eyes but eyes don’t look quite like that so Ellie erased them and…

“What’s that?” Piper asked as she peered over her sister’s shoulder. 

Ellie jumped out of her seat and a long dark line was scratched against the paper. “A notebook,” Ellie muttered, collecting her nerves. “Here found you one.” She handed Piper the notebook and watched as her sister flipped through the pages.

A smile grew on Piper’s face as she hugged the notebook close. “…thanks, Ellie.” Ellie beamed up at her sister. For once she gave something to Piper, and it made Ellie’s heartbeat with pride. 

“Here,” Piper said, placing down her backpack and placing the notebook safely inside. “Shove this deep in your bag, but someplace easily accessible,” Piper instructed. 

At first, Ellie was confused about exactly what she was supposed to store in her bag, but her expression quickly changed to one of pure excitement. “Fuck yeah!” exclaimed Ellie. 

Piper chuckled. “Just hurry up.” She placed the gun in Ellie’s hands. 

“Ai yai captain,” Ellie saluted as she shoved the gun into her bag. “Thanks, Piper for–Oh shit.” Joel had come down the stairs. “Well, don't you look pretty?” 

Joel paused for a moment staring at the girls. Their faces were flushed, and they were oddly still. “Shut up,” he told Ellie. “…Ready to go?”  

Piper and Ellie nodded a bit too enthusiastically for Joel’s taste, but these were weird kids, so they’d do weird things. “Let’s go.” Joel opened the front door and motioned for the girls to follow. 

꧁_____________꧂ 

Joel let a sigh of relief fill his body once his aching bones sat down on the leather seats of the truck. It was going to be a luxury to drive instead of walk. A true luxury it would have been if he could have been taking this trip alone. 

“You’re in the back,” Piper barked at Ellie. 

“There’s no way in hell,” Ellie growled. 

The two girls had a hand on the door handle to the passenger seat. Their bodies were vigorously pressed up against each other in an attempt to knock the other over. Their yapping was already giving Joel a headache. He pinched his brow hard and clenched his jaw. Maybe if he thought hard enough the girls would be silent. Alas, their bickering only grew. 

“Because I said so,” Piper said as she shoved Ellie to the side. 

“That’s bullshit–”

“Girls!” Joel scolded. He knew that if he didn’t conclude the fight, they would never leave Bill’s and Frank’s. 

Silence came from Piper and Ellie as they stood watching Joel carefully. 

“Who knows how to read a map?” Joel asked, his tone was much softer. 

Ellie looked down just as Piper began to smirk. “I do,” Piper smugly replied. 

“Piper’s in front. Ellie, you’re in the back,” Joel stated. 

“Yeah! Told you,” Piper muttered to her sister. 

“Fuck you,” Ellie grumbled as she took the back seat of the truck. 

“Love you too,” Piper smiled back at Ellie as she got comfortable in the passenger seat. She pulled the sun guard down and looked in its tiny mirror after she scanned all the buttons for the stereo. “Nice,” She whispered. 

“It's your first time in a car?” Joel asked curiously as he watched the two girls' reactions to the vehicle. 

“It's like a spaceship,” Ellie noted as she stared around with wide eyes. 

“No, it's like a piece of shit Chevy S10, but it'll get us there... I think,” Joel said. “Seatbelt.”

“Hm?” The two girls looked at him with confusion. Joel stared back with a look of bewilderment. 

“Seatbelt,” Joel repeated. The girls’ reactions didn’t change. 

The seat groaned as Joel stretched back and reached for Ellie’s seatbelt. In one swift motion, she buckled her in. Her hands roamed the material as it lay strapped across her torso. Next, Joel buckled in Piper. His large hands clasped the buckled guiding across Piper’s torso before hearing the click. 

“Okay,” Joel said to himself once the girls were seated. With a turn of the key, the engine whirred to life. One hand on the wheel and the other on the shift. 

Piper watched in awe as Joel backed them out of the garage and onto the street. It was an odd sensation to feel the rumbling of the engine beneath her seat. 

“So cool,” Ellie whispered as she looked out the window and the moving world. 

Joel placed the map in Piper’s lap as they approached the gate. She carefully unfolded the paper, her eyes scanning over the numerous lines and illustrations to find their location. With a quick glance outside the window to check for street signs, she found their location on the map. 

In the meantime, Joel had opened the gate and began to leave the ghost of a utopian neighbourhood behind.  Ellie sat with her head laying against the window as she watched the homes disappear behind her leaving the open road ahead. 

“Would ya leave it?” Joel said to Piper pulling Ellie out of her trance as the trees flew by. “Put it back... Piper.”

Piper turned to Joel and smirked as she placed the tape into the stereo. With a click the tape began to play and the song came to life. 

The sound of instruments seeped through the speakers of the stereo playing the intro. It was slow as they set up the start of the first verse. 

Ellie huffed. “This sucks, come on, change it,” she told Piper. 

Piper rolled her eyes and made a move to skip the song.

“Oh, no, wait. No, leave it. Leave it,” Joel said as he swatted Piper’s hand away from the stereo. “Oh, this is good. This is Linda Ronstadt. Do you know who Linda Ronstadt is?” He turned back to look at the girls. 

“You know I don't know who Linda Ronstadt is,” Piper replied as she sat back in her chair. Her ears tuned in to listen to the music. 

“Oh, man. Eh,” Ellie sighed. “It's better than Piper’s shit music.”

Immediately Piper sat up in her seat. “Hey! Try having a music taste in this shit world…and I’ll have you know Fleetwood Mac isn’t shit music.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say…”

This was going to be a long car ride. 

꧁_____________꧂ 

 ♪ Wait for the day ♪ ♪ You'll go away ♪ ♪ Knowin' that you warned me ♪ ♪ Of the price I'd have to pay ♪ ♪ And life's full of loss ♪ ♪ Who knows the cost ♪ ♪ Livin' in the memory ♪ ♪ Of a love that never was ♪ ♪ 'Cause I've done everything I know ♪ ♪ To try and change your mind ♪ ♪ And I think I'm gonna love you ♪ ♪ For a long, long time ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ Love will abide ♪ ♪ Take things in stride ♪ ♪ Sounds like good advice ♪ ♪ But there's no one at my side ♪ ♪ And time washes clean ♪ ♪ Love's wounds unseen ♪ ♪ That's what someone told me ♪ ♪ But I don't know what it means ♪ ♪ 'Cause I've done everything I know... ♪

꧁_____________꧂

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꧁_____________꧂

[chaikachi]

Grief, Guilt, and Bloodied Hands

cross posted from twitter I want to talk about this episode's use of 'bloodied hands' and how it ties into Ruby as well as Rosegarden. This post does get *dark* tho & includes shots from some of the more distressing scenes of v9e8 so please tread with caution.

I don't really have to get into detail with how this episode was framed with saving Oscar until last being what pushed Ruby over the edge and why that's important. It's very clear to everyone that saw it. But let's talk about how we get there.

Ruby's aura broke when she fell from the chandelier and then she was tossed around by a few of Neo's puppets while Oz is left out of frame until the very end. It is only then that she starts to show welts and bruises, at the other end of Long Memory. Before vs After:

We can see she's got her own blood on her hands here. The way they use this particular visual cue is threefold.

The first thing it's symbolic of is her own inner wounds. How much they've hurt her, how they've led her here, & where they're leading her next. Also in the most literal meaning of the metaphor, this is emphasized by Ruby's 'death' being on her own hands by the end of the episode.

The second is that those 'inner wounds' of hers are partially the lives of all the people she couldn't save. Her grief and her guilt.

And the third association is being symbolic of the people she hasn't lost yet. Specifically Oscar. Which we can tell because immediately after that last image (the first time we're shown the blood), we see her hand grabs her weapon before she defends herself.

This is followed by the cane falling before we're shown that the blood on her hands is now Oscar's. The first time she's able to use Crescent Rose all volume and this is how she's rewarded for it.

At the beginning of this episode, she pushes Little away because she's convinced that if they stay with her, they'll end up dead too. I will get to them next, but first this confirms something very strongly:

That Ruby is afraid to move forward. Not just because of her past, but also because of her fear for the future.

In her monologue in the v4 finale, she says the following:

"Believe me when I say I know it can feel impossible. Like every single day is a struggle against some unstoppable monster we can never hope to beat... but we have to try. If not for us, then for the people we've already-... for the people we haven't lost yet."

This sequence is literally all of Ruby's motivations and fears combined into one torturous nightmare.

"If you stay with me, you're going to end up dead too."

She is being tricked into believing that if she stays with her friends, with Oscar, the same will happen to them.

That idea is what breaks her for the first time this episode before she's interrupted by the cat.

Brief sidestep to mention that the way they frame this particular shot implies that Yang is of similar if not equal importance to Ruby here. Cause yes I'm looking at this specifically through an RG lens, but it is very important to acknowledge this scene included more than just 'shipping fuel' in how much Oscar means to her. This is her character arc, her fatal flaws, and the importance of multiple relationships she has. It started with her grief toward Pyrrha & co., an emphasis on her grief and closeness to Penny, wrapped up with the fear of losing Oscar, and then everyone else.

Ruby first reaches for the tea after watching Oscar fall & is interrupted by the cat. But even when she later comes back to her choice, we are not allowed to forget just how much that scene hurt her. Because as Little is begging her to get up and run, they are holding onto that bloodied left hand that pulled the trigger.

When Neo... does what she does to them, the narrative is telling us that Little as well as the blood on Ruby's hands (and all the things it's associated with) combined together to steal all her remaining light away.

"The light of hope is taken."

"If you stay with me, you're going to end up dead too."

She is proven right twofold.

First, with the illusion of Oscar.

Then again with Little who is very much not a mirage. "If I stay or go back home, my friends will die. I stayed here, and another did die."

And she, quite literally, can't live with that thought.

-

I don't thinkg Oscar's very loud absence or the similarities between him and Little as I've mentioned in other posts, compounded with both of them being used by Neo as the last piece to get Ruby to 'break' are a coincidence. And while I'll admit this episode was flawlessly executed, I am manifesting that this show never gets that dark again because I don't think I can take it.

Thank you for reading, and pls manifest that reunion hug. 😭 🌹🌲

[by-nina]

Shallow Grave

AO3 | FFN Royai Week 2024 | Day 2 – Appreciate Rating: T (implied injury and violence) Genre: Hurt/Comfort/Romance Word Count: 1,065

It’s Roy who has come to her, not the Colonel, because the Colonel would not hold her closely like this, his body warm and protective over hers. The Colonel would not plead with her to stay with him, would not gasp for breath like he was dying with her, would not whisper “Lieutenant!” over and over with the tenderness of calling her by her first name. It’s Roy who is making her feel safe. It’s Roy who is making her realize, despite the haze and the numbness, that the longing she kept hidden and worked hard to forget has resurfaced.

———

There is a tense silence where Riza hears nothing but her own heartbeat. Thump… thump… thump. It is slow and forceful, and it punctuates the seconds that trickle by as her Colonel glares at the mysterious man who calls himself a doctor. It is her only reminder that she is still here with him, putting up one last fight alongside him, even though he is vulnerable and disarmed and she is unable to protect him.

The doctor says that they are running out of time, and something cuts through the air. Something bursts into a brilliant red. Something violently pulls Riza down, and her body drops heavily onto the cold stone floor. Everything around her swiftly turns cold. The sound of her heartbeat is gone—or it pauses for far too long before the next labored thump—and the screams that follow are too blurry and distorted to immediately make out.

The Colonel is screaming for her.

“Lieutenant…! LIEUTENANT…!”

All that Riza knows now is that one moment someone is dragging her across the floor, the next her own blood is quickly pooling around her, and that this must be what dying feels like. She is numb and confused and slipping away and yet inexplicably calm. Perhaps there isn’t enough blood in her anymore for her to feel anything else, but somehow she is able to find her hand and press it feebly against the cut in her throat.

She isn’t going to die, she gasps as her voice breaks. “I’m under… strict orders… not to die.”

And Riza is still fighting even though she can only move her eyes now. She can barely see the Colonel in the dark, his limbs strained from struggling to break free from his captors, his face shining with sweat and contorted in rage and desperation and terror. Maybe he can still see what she is trying to tell him. She knows that something good has come, hidden in a shadowy passage somewhere in the ceiling, but her mind cannot make the connection between what she’s glimpsed and what she does with the last of her strength.

Riza fades to black.

She is no longer in the tunnels that run through the heart of Central, no longer with the strange doctor or his puppet-like men with brute strength. She is in the Fifth Laboratory with the Colonel, collapsed on the ground with his uniform ripped open to reveal the wound that nearly killed him. The memory plays out as clear as day. Riza was the one who had screamed and flown into a blind rage thinking that her Colonel was dead, and the Colonel was weak and critically injured like she is now. She remembers her hopelessness, her fleeting but all-consuming wish to die right then and there, then the euphoric rush of hope when she heard his voice and realized that he had fought his way back to her.

But Riza also remembers something else. The spark of a feeling, a strange impulse that broke through her anxious relief over realizing that he was still alive but knowing she could still lose him if he wasn’t treated right away. Riza nearly said it then. The words hung from her lips while they waited for help to come, but she swallowed them back quickly once the medics arrived to carry him away, tearing his hand away from her trembling fingers. She buried the warm, yearning feeling away once she was certain that the Colonel was going to be all right, and she persuaded herself then that she would never find room or feel any need to consider it again.

Then, as quickly as she lost consciousness, Riza finds herself back in the tunnels, her body unresponsive and the ground slick with her blood. Her head spins with uncertainty, but she finds that she can hear a little more of what’s happening around her now than she did when she began bleeding out—fist to flesh, frantic footsteps, fingers snapping, a familiar voice yelling. She is in somebody’s arms now.

It’s Roy who has come to her, not the Colonel, because the Colonel would not hold her closely like this, his body warm and protective over hers. The Colonel would not plead with her to stay with him, would not gasp for breath like he was dying with her, would not whisper “Lieutenant!” over and over with the tenderness of calling her by her first name. It’s Roy who is making her feel safe. It’s Roy who is making her realize, despite the haze and the numbness, that the longing she kept hidden and worked hard to forget has resurfaced.

This time, it feels stronger. It’s as if it were something precious that has become more valuable for its rarity and its long absence. Riza has underestimated it, because now the words are coming back to her not with an impulse to be said, but a need. And if this is where she dies, then she is grateful that he is here now, that despite the severity of her wounds she is able to cling to dear life for one last chance to say the words:

“…”

Riza slowly opens her eyes, and Roy’s face is the first thing she sees. Everything else remains a blur; she isn’t sure she knows who saved her or how her bleeding stopped. But Riza cannot help but smile. In the flurry of emotions that wash over her, the words feel thick in her throat and heavy in her chest all at once, and all she manages to say as she looks at him is, “Colonel… I’m so sorry.”

“No, don’t speak. Just rest now.”

The words have slipped away from Riza again, further and further away as more of her surroundings and the present situation come back to her. But she knows him well enough to know that he must have heard the words in her voice, felt what she truly wanted to say without her having to tell him. Perhaps Riza isn’t imagining that she feels it in the way he looks at her now, holds her as if he is afraid he will lose her if he lets go.

But Riza is certain of exactly one thing as her dazed mind turns clear: she has loved Roy long before she admitted it to herself.

She has only loved him more every day since then.

[omniblades-and-stars]

The Way

Part i. | Part ii. | Part iii.

ii.

Spirits, he is sure he's cracked. The pressure's too much. Maybe it's just his brain preparing to die. Already bad enough that he called his father, to apologize, of all things. But he swears he hears her confirming that she heard a command from one of the mercenary leaders over the comms he’s backdoored into. 

And hope and admiration builds again, even though he didn't think it could anymore.

It's in the way that his heart races and he feels like he might just pass out when he sees that N7 badge on her shoulder through the scope. The soldier wearing the armor leaps over the wall, but she's wearing a full helmet. He wants to hope that somehow she's back from the dead. But he's also afraid to hope. Because it's impossible to come back from the dead.

Right?

She's accompanied by a large human man wearing armor that looks like it's made from several different pieces of old armor, and a human woman who’s wearing something that looks more at home in Aria's precious little club than an active battlefield.

He's definitely lost his mind, he thinks. Grief and rage and anxiety have finally given him a massive stroke and he's actually just laying on the ground next to his rifle, waiting for death to take him. That must be what's going on.

Spirits, even if it is just some other Alliance soldier here to save his sorry hide for some crazy reason, he'd drop to the ground and … what's the human phrase? Kiss their toes? That doesn't sound quite right.

It's in the way that all doubt is removed from his mind when she throws her arm out in front of her, incandescent tendrils reaching out from her palm, and she pulls her fist back. The way the merc in front of her gets yanked back towards her, like a puppet on a string, flailing and probably screaming. Right into a deadly blast from her shotgun.

It’s her favorite “combo move” on the battlefield. That’s what she calls them anyways.

His heart is pounding for reasons completely unrelated to his impending doom.

Hope ignites, he feels … happy? Spirits, it's been so long since he felt happy.

It’s in the way he tries to play it cool, he pretends he definitely was not absolutely about to die. He’s calm, he’s collected, smooth, just like the vids, right? But that’s ruined entirely when she shouts, “Garrus!” and nearly knocks him clear over his perch with the way she throws herself around him.

“You shot me! Ass!” She laughs, full in her belly, and punches his shoulder. Her smile is so wide, it’s all teeth and the rosy flush on her cheeks. He wonders what happened to give her those scars. He wonders how she’s back.

But also, he doesn’t care how. He just cares that she is.

He’s so relieved, he could cry. Instead he says, “Concussive rounds only. No harm done. Didn’t want the mercs getting suspicious.” He's the cool vigilante guy, right?

“Right, right. I believe you,” she says in that teasing tone that says that she doesn’t. But she thinks it’s funny. They fall right back into banter easily, just like old times.

Spirits, how he's missed her. 

It’s in the way his last thought before the pain and blood loss pulls his consciousness out from under him is, “Please, not yet. I just got her back.”

It’s in the way she’s waiting for him when he’s finally able to stay conscious for more than an hour at a time, and Dr. Chakwas clears him to join the fight. Shepard leans exaggeratedly from side to side as she examines the damage to his face. The worried look is so brief, he almost misses it. But it’s there. “Well, hell, Garrus, you were always ugly,” she says with a devious smirk.

She always knows how to make him laugh. Even when it really hurts. Spirits, it hurts to laugh. 

But it feels good too. 

“We can be scar twins,” she announces, fanning her fingers out next to her face as though he wouldn’t have noticed the fact that something is glowing just beneath her skin. He knows she’s just trying to make him feel better.

It doesn’t make it any less effective.

He missed her smile. It still makes him all warm in the neck.

It's in the way she absolutely does make fun of him for being Archangel. "I can't believe you went superhero and Archangel is the best you could come up with," she teases. They're standing shoulder to shoulder in the armory while he fixes her shotgun. She got in too close to a klixen and it melted the release spring on the clip ejector, but thankfully not her hands.

"Yeah, I just kind of fell into it," he answers, trying to ignore how she's leaning into him. And how his heart is pounding in his ears because of it.

"Could have been anything in the universe, and you went with Archangel. Can't believe "Garrus Vakarian, Hero of the Citadel and Second Best Shot in the Galaxy" wasn't good enough for you." 

"I don't know, Shep, Second Best sounds like a lie. We both know I'm the best shot. And it's a mouthful," he chuckles as he finishes putting all of the pieces back together.

She elbows him in the arm, "I'll give you a mouthful."

The shotgun falls from his hands onto the workbench, "What?!"

"What?" She responds quickly, confused like she's honestly not sure what she just said.

Now they're both blushing.

He doesn't even remember why he had to be the one to fix her gun. She knows how to do it.

It’s in the way she just tells him what’s on her mind as it comes to her. They’re sitting in the mess, he’s distracted reading over messages on his datapad while she’s blowing on a spoonful of a soup that smells very strongly of … onions, he thinks they’re called.

The spoon is almost to her lips before she pauses and leans back, “I don’t think I could do this without you here, you know?” Then she crams the utensil in her mouth and hums when she finally gets a taste of her soup. As though the thought were the simplest little thing, and not something that has the effect of a stun grenade on him.

“That’s not true, Shepard. You’re only just getting started and you already have very capable people on your team.” He doesn’t have it in him to feel capable or necessary. He mostly just feels like a failure.

“What, you mean the Cerberus lackey who kind of hates my guts even though she rebuilt me, or the other Cerberus lackey?”

“There’s Mordin, and Massani.”

Her spoon scrapes sharp against the edge of her bowl before she lifts it and points it at him, “Fine, I’ll grant you that Massani knows his way around every gun ever made, cause he’s old as shit. And Mordin is scary resourceful, but it’s not the same.”

“I’m not sure I see how,” he says almost pitifully.

“This is our fight, Vakarian. I need you. We’re supposed to do this together," she says heavily. "Or did that rocket scramble your brains and make you forget?” She leans forward and pokes him in the forehead with her spoon for emphasis, droplets of fragrant broth drip down towards his nose.

“No … uh, I just … I mean, no,” he’s scrambling again. Stumbling on his tongue just like old times. “Together.”

He'd be lying if he said it isn't nice to feel needed. Especially by her.

It’s in the way she’s the same, but different. She’s louder, more jocular on the battlefield. “Hey! I was going to get that one,” she shouts over comms as he steals her kill from a distance, dropping a husk with one shot.

She gets him back by charging up biotic energy and turning into a blur that moves at the speed and with the force of a freightliner. She throws herself into a fight like an artillery shell. She is raw energy, like a flash fire. It shouldn’t be so magnificent, but he can’t help but be awed by her.

Jury’s still out on who the better shot is.

She is still merciful, patient and understanding. Even when Ash all but calls her traitor. Shepard just nods and says, "I understand, Ash. It was good to see you." She sounds so sad that it breaks his heart. 

It’s in the way she’s grown more casual, freer, since her resurrection. She says she’s not bound by Alliance regs anymore, and that Cerberus can “eat her ass” if they think they’ll get her to salute or sit in a chair the right way ever again. She’s always straddling them, sideways, feet propped on tables, perched over top, or sometimes upside down. 

He walks into the observation deck to find her feet flung over the back of the sofa. When he comes around the couch, her hair is brushing the deck and her face is so red, it’s almost purple. It can’t be comfortable. “What are you doing?” He asks through a laugh. She looks ridiculous.

“Enjoying the view. You should try it.” She swings herself around until she’s mostly upright and slaps the couch next to her.

“I think I’m exactly all the wrong shapes for sitting upside down on a human couch.” He points down at his legs, “With the spurs and all-”

She grabs his hand and pulls him down to the couch. “Come on, Vakarian. I won’t tell anyone, even if you look really fucking stupid,” she says with that mischief hiding on her lips again. “Do something whimsical … for me.”

Spirits help him, because he’s trying, and it is just as embarrassing and ridiculous as he thought it would be. She helps, which is somehow worse. But they’re laughing the whole time. Especially when his fringe gets caught under the couch and she has to help free him. He has to perform some feat of acrobatics he didn’t think he was capable of just to be able to stick off the couch far enough for that not to happen again. Other than getting blown up by a rocket, this might be the most uncomfortable he’s ever been. 

But it's worth it just to hear her laugh. 

She plops down next to him before her head falls over the edge. One of her legs falls over his. Her face immediately starts going red again. “Aren’t they beautiful like this?” She asks, pointing at the stars in front of them.

“It’s space, Shepard. It looks the same from every angle.” He’s not looking at the stars. Because he’s watching her. She looks beautiful like this, he thinks. She’s completely and totally unguarded, she’s looking out at the stars like it’s the first time she’s ever seen them. He thought for sure she would be afraid, and maybe she is. She’s never hidden from fear.

Maybe it’s the blood rushing to the top of his skull, but he takes a chance, small though it is. He’s not sure if she thinks about him like he does her, but he hopes. She makes it easy to hope. 

He wraps his hand around hers. Her fingers interlace with his.

She doesn’t let go.

It’s in the way she stands firm on her principles. Even when that means standing right in the crosshairs of his sniper rifle. Her mercy is showing again, and it’s driving him crazy. Making him angry. Sidonis is right there. He can end the man’s miserable, traitorous life with just a squeeze of the trigger.

And she’s standing in the way.

She turns and looks at him through the scope. Her eyes bear the same exhaustion, the same solemnity as they did after Saleon. “Garrus, he’s a coward, not a monster.”

She steps aside. And he remembers every time she offered peace to villains far worse than the likes of Sidonis. He remembers how she always offers them a chance to become better, even if it’s from a prison cell.

It's on us to try to do the good thing. 

He remembers how she makes him want to be better.

She’s telling Sidonis that he has his life and he had better make some good out of it before Garrus even tells her he’s not going to shoot. It won't bring his men back anyhow. 

She knew he wasn't going to do it. She believes that he’s better than he is. He wants to be worthy of that belief.

It's in the way she renders him a stuttering, awkward mess. He actually cannot believe some of the things that come babbling out of his mouth.

He's already flush around the neck, certain the heat death of the universe is rapidly approaching based entirely on how warm he is, when she leans in close, warming him up even more. She's got him backed against the battery terminal, her lips are only microns away from his mouth. "I'm going to wreck you, Vakarian," she says, low, confident, teasing.

The joke is that this is supposed to be stress relief (they both know it's not just that), but he's never been more stressed. He makes a choked sound that's supposed to be a laugh. She is terrifying and beautiful and he's never been more turned on and anxious in his life.

Spirits, he's already a wreck and they aren't even doing anything, they're just talking about it.

She giggles, actually giggles, and her lips brush against his mouth plates. Soft, warm, just a little chapped. And it's so tender compared to the intensity of her just seconds ago that it sends him reeling. 

And she does it again, only this time just a little harder, and she lingers. It doesn't make any sense why it feels so good, so natural, but it does. The anxiety leaves as she sighs against him, and he holds onto her for dear life because if he lets go of her, he might drown underneath the intense waves of every good feeling he's ever felt for her.

Garrus knows two things:

How to make a gun absolutely sing. 

And that he is so, so in love and so, so in over his head about it.

No, he knows a third thing:

He wants her to kiss him again.

It's in the way she looks to him, of all people, for reassurance. They're sitting in the shuttle, and everyone is silent, stony faced, and grim. She's clenching and unclenching her fist, and her jaw is set so tight, her teeth might actually shatter. 

The Collectors took everyone on the ship, except Joker. They weren't there to help.

Shepard's people aren't cannon fodder, and this hit isn't just close to home, it's right in it. The Normandy is her home, the crew is the only family she has. 

Tears streak over her cheeks, but she is silent as the grave. Her eyes are bloodshot when she meets his gaze.

He nods once, he understands. "We’ll send those Collector motherfuckers to hell, Shepard. Together."

"Together."

Jack groans.

It's in the way that she stops his stumbling words and panicked pacing. She caresses his scarred mandible, gentle in a way she isn't usually. "Calm down, Big Guy," she says as she presses a kiss to his mouth. Shepard cinches her fingers around his waist and whispers, "You've already got me. Just go with your gut."

Right, his gut. He's pretty sure that his gut gets him into deep shit most of the time. And Spirits, he's never over-thought sex before but there's a list light-years long of ways this can go wrong, and he's thinking of all of them. What if they aren't biologically compatible in any sense of the word? He knows they should at least be able to actually do it, but what if they can't? 

Or the most mortifying possibility of them all, what if it's just bad?

But then she takes his hand and puts it to the center of her chest. Her heart is beating hard and fast, she's just as nervous as he is. And that's more comforting than she could ever know.

And when she kisses him again it’s all the intensity and passion that she was only just barely holding back. And the first time she gasps, and the first time she moans, he forgets every worry he ever had about it.

He forgets about everything that exists outside of her.

And then she’s holding his face, and there’s that mischievous glint in her eyes. “Garrus, there’ll be time for sweet and slow when we get back.” And he knows that’s true. There’s not enough time. 

As much as they’d like to pretend it doesn’t, reality still exists outside of her cabin. 

She presses her forehead to his and then she growls, “I want you to fucking wreck me.” And then she sinks her teeth into his neck.

It's in the way that drives him wild.

It’s in the way she believes in him, even after everything. She wants him to lead the second squad. “I trust you, and I need you to do this.”

And that means everything to him. Trust is a funny thing, and it has a funny way of making him believe in himself. Her belief, her hope, is infectious, and it always has been.

Spirits, it's a tough fight. But somewhere along the way, he must have earned the respect of the rest of the crew. He can't help but think how this is her influence. He's in the middle of a firefight with things that were once Protheans, a terrifying look into the future if they don't stop the Reapers, and he still manages to feel immense gratitude for the way that Shepard just is.

He shouts an order and that cranky asshole, Massani, confirms that he heard it and follows. He commands to cover the door, and everyone falls into formation seamlessly. Even Jack takes orders.

Is that real, actual pride he feels in himself?

He didn't think that would ever feel possible again.

It's in the way she's victorious. She leaps into the docking hatch of the Normandy and stumbles into the bridge. She collapses against him and tosses her helmet to the ground.

She's laughing, that same manic, breathless laughter that jumps out of her chest whenever she has a close call. She clutches his arms with shaking hands. Her hair is plastered to her face by sweat. Her cheeks are fiery red, blotchy. She's smiling as she shouts, "Joker, get us the fuck out of here!"

She's beautiful.

It's in the way that she turned an impossible suicide mission into a crazy, but successful rescue mission. Everyone is back because she's the one in charge, because this is her family.

He's her family.

It's in the way she tells The Illusive Man to fuck off. "Kiss my ass," she says as she confronts him, standing on the QEC platform. "I'm going to stop the Reapers, and if you get in my way, I'll fucking stop you too." She cuts the line before he can respond.

He rarely sees her so angry. He's glad he's not on the receiving end.

He'd be lying if he says he didn't enjoy seeing her fired up like this though. 

It's in the way his heart breaks when he has to return to Palaven and she turns herself in to the Alliance. He doesn’t understand that decision.

But he respects the hell out of her for it.

The heartbreak is different this time. Quieter, less consuming. He has hope this time that they'll be reunited.

She makes it easy to hope.

It's in the way that when the Reapers arrive that he worries. They haven't spoken in months because she was a prisoner. And now they can't make contact because the Reapers are laying waste to everything.

But somewhere deep down, he knows she's fighting like hell, wherever she's at. Because this is their fight. Together, even if they aren't standing shoulder to shoulder yet.