#also she has fully hit the ceiling from where I set her hanger to be lmfao

[touchmycoat]

Nepenthe’s been getting way too big for her hanging situation so I’ve finally replanted her with a little reservoir and a self-wicking situation 💪🏼 now I don’t have to water her every day I hope

[goldenhemmings]

Stealing Second | Baseball!Shawn (Part Five)

Hello again, and for the last time (at least regarding this series)! This is gonna do it for Stealing Second, and it wouldn’t be right of me to not take the time to thank every single one of you that ever took time out of your day to read the writing that I’ve been putting out. When I posted part one of this I was seriously not expecting anyone to care about my stupid baseball obsession, and yet here we are. Thank you guys for your time, your kind words and messages, and for sticking with me through long periods of time inbetween updates. I cannot thank y’all enough for supporting this series, it has been so much fun for me to write and share. This part is 9.4k words, and I’d so love to hear your feedback on it when you read it. Here we go!!

Shawn didn’t understand. He stormed down the hallway towards the elevator, frustrated fists raking through his curls. He all-but punched the 12 button, backing against the wall and letting the back of his head fall against it as the elevator began its ascent to his floor. Everything had been going so well, and then Y/N went and threw him a curveball that there was no chance he could hit. He hadn’t seen it coming, and he didn’t know how to handle it. He understood her reasoning, but at the same time...he didn’t. It wasn’t fair what was happening to her, but were a few unexpected roadblocks really all it took to make her walk away? She was going to readily give him up to bow down to the supposed expectations of team higher-ups that she couldn’t control? He knew it made sense to her, that she was thinking of herself, but he didn’t understand why it had to be like this. He couldn’t understand, and he especially didn’t believe her when she said there was nothing he could do about it.

He obviously had plenty of connections with the team; there had to be at least one person who could help. His coach, the team’s general manager, an executive...anyone. He was intent on finding a way for her to have the best of both worlds, because he loved her. That, however, was new. He hadn’t yet admitted to himself those feelings before he’d found himself inadvertently admitting them to her in the heat of the moment. He wished the words hadn’t been said that way; she acted like she hadn’t even heard them. He’d wanted them to mean more. As Shawn turned the key into the lock of his apartment door, he resolved to find a way to fix things. Y/N couldn’t (or wouldn’t, he didn’t know), so he would. He needed to talk to her somehow, when both of them were more level-headed, and ask what he could do; there had to be at least one thing, despite what she said. For her, he’d figure it out.

He just had to find a way to get her alone.

---------------

“Don’t shoot the messenger.”

You looked up from your computer, which you’d been bent over for the past three straight hours throwing yourself head-first into your work. You watched out of the corner of your eye as Cassidy re-enter your shared office before she flopped down into the swivel chair at her desk. “What?” you laughed. “Did something happen in your meeting with the PR Director?”

“Y/N, just start calling him Curt already,” she giggled, crossing one of her legs over the other. “It’s not weird.”

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, whatever. Anyways, what’s with the cryptic ‘don’t shoot the messenger?’”

She sighed. “Curt just told me that Sports Illustrated is sending a team to Toronto on Friday. They want to put a player on their cover, that’s what the meeting was about.”

“Holy shit!” you cried. Sports Illustrated covers were a massive deal, and it would be huge for the team to secure one. It was obviously a last-minute decision, considering that the SI team would be coming to Toronto in only two days. “Who are they covering?”

Cassidy groaned. “This is the part where I’d expect you to shoot me.”

You laughed dryly; now you understood. “It’s Shawn, isn’t it?” you asked, though it came out like a flat statement. You’d been doing so well distracting yourself from thinking about him the past twenty-four hours; you didn’t particularly want to have an actual conversation with him as the sole subject. Cassidy nodded, one side of her mouth quirked up into a sympathetic smile.

“Good for him, I guess,” you said, returning your focus to your computer. “It’s a big deal, and it’s not like he hasn’t earned it.”

“Well, as glad as I am to hear you say that, you’re probably gonna change your mind.”

You scoffed. “Why?”

“Well, we work in Public Relations.”

“I’m aware,” you laughed. “What’s going on with you, Cass? You’re being weird.”

Another sigh. “As PR staff, we have to preside over everything that connects the Blue Jays with the fans. This SI article will be a media publication about the team, so our department has to...oversee it.”

“Cassidy,” you warned, though you had a gut feeling you knew where this was going. “Define ��oversee it.’”

“We have to make sure that SI presents Shawn in a way that’s to the team’s liking. Which means we have to...be there. For the interview. And the photoshoot, too. Basically what I’m trying to say is that you’re going to be trapped in a room with Shawn for an entire day, and there’s nothing you can do to get out of it, so I thought I’d at least warn you now so you had time to prepare.”

Great. “It’ll be fine,” you said flatly, though you knew fine was the last word you’d use to describe the way you felt about the situation. Cassidy sensed your apprehension, evidenced in a subtle raise of her eyebrows.

“You sure about that?”

You huffed and looked up from your computer. “It doesn’t really matter if I am or not. I’m just going to be professional.” In the off chance that there were going to be any executives present at the shoot, it was a chance for you to show that you took your job seriously and didn’t have any conflicting personal relationships that could jeopardize that. At least not anymore.

Cassidy didn’t seem to fully buy your confidence. “Well, if you need anything on Friday, just let me know. I want to make sure this isn’t too hard for you.”

“Why would it be hard? It’s my job.”

“Yes, and once again Shawn has been put in a place that could potentially interfere with that.”

“Not anymore, Cass,” you answered, a little more coldly than you’d intended. “That’s why we’re no longer together.”

She didn’t answer, instead turning in her swivel chair to return to her work. She didn’t appear to be convinced that you were seemingly unbothered by what was to come. You weren’t sure that you were convinced, either.

---------------

You learned right after waking up Friday morning in an email from Curt that the entire PR department was “expected to be wearing team attire for the duration of Sports Illustrated’s time with the Blue Jays in order to maintain a professional and fun work environment.” Just your luck. Team attire meant Jays jerseys, and you wanted to scream as you sifted through your closet in search of an outfit. You had four fucking jerseys, and they all had Shawn’s name on them. You stubbornly pulled the one uniform that actually belonged to you down from its hanger, throwing it onto your bed along with a pair of black jeans.

You remembered your mother giving you that jersey the day you left for Toronto. It was her idea of a parting gift; a symbol for how proud she was of you for finally getting your foot in the door of the MLB. She knew Shawn was your favorite player at the time, and had opted for it to be his name that was embroidered onto the back of the jersey. It was what you were wearing when you met Shawn, and it was also what you’d be wearing when you had to finally face him for the first time since breaking things off. Funny how things always seemed to come full circle.

You walked to work as usual, stepping through the door right at eight. You took the elevator up to the fourth floor and navigated your way to the room Curt had described as the location of the shoot. You began to hear noise as you got further down the hallway, and you ducked into the spacious room where people were hustling to set things up. You felt a little lost until your eyes found Cassidy standing in a white jersey, and you did your best to push your way through the room to get to her.

“Hey!” she exclaimed as you approached her, always so full of energy--even at eight in the morning. “Whose jersey have you got on?”

You rolled your eyes. “My morning was fine, thanks for asking. How was yours?”

She groaned, looking up at the ceiling. “Don’t be lame, Y/N.”

“Don’t ask questions you already know the answer to,” you retorted, and Cassidy laughed.

“Touche,” she smiled, nudging you with her shoulder. “Though, you could’ve just asked to borrow one of my jerseys so you didn’t have to wear Shawn’s,” she continued, and you scoffed.

“Wish I’d thought of that about two hours ago. Too late now.”

She shrugged. “Oh well. It’ll be fun to watch him go a little nuts when he sees you.”

“Yeah, maybe for you.” Cassidy laughed again, and you smiled and nudged her back.

Not long after, the room had cleared of everyone except the small Sports Illustrated team and the six of you on the PR staff, identifiable by the jerseys you were all wearing. You hadn’t realized Shawn, who you now had a perfect view of thanks to the sudden decrease of people, had been in the room the whole time. He was shaking hands and talking with a middle-aged man who you assumed was the interviewer as people bustled around them setting up tape recorders to catch the audio and chairs for them to sit in. The interviewer clapped his hands and announced that he was starting, asking everyone to be quiet.

The PR staff all had the same job, which was to follow the interview and flag any questions or answers that were phrased unfavorably or could be taken the wrong way, but the questions were all as you’d expected: asking about baseball’s involvement in Shawn’s childhood, how much it meant to be playing for his hometown team, the Rookie of the Year rumors, his teammates, his coaches, et cetera. It’d been so long since you had paid attention to him being interviewed at the games that you’d forgotten how well-spoken he was. You almost hated how he always seemed to know exactly what to say and when to say it. But before long, the interviewer was beginning to enter a territory that was making you slightly nervous.

“Does being away so frequently make it difficult to maintain a consistent personal life?”

“Mmm,” Shawn mused, looking off to the side as he thought. “Not really. Anyone I want to talk to is just a phone call away when the team’s on the road. The majority of my personal life involves my teammates anyways, though, so it works out.”

“Speaking of your teammates, who would you say you’re the closest to? Which one has had the most impact on how you’ve adjusted to a life in the big leagues?”

“Well they’re all great guys and they’ve all been amazing to me in their own way, but I’ve gotten the closest to Justin Smoak, for sure,” Shawn answered, not even taking a second to think about it. “It sucks that he’s gonna be on the DL for the rest of the season. From my first practice with the team, he made it a point to take me under his wing and really show me how things work around here. Even aside from baseball, he’s so much fun to be around. I love hanging out with him and his wife on off days.”

The interviewer grinned and cocked his head to the side, looking down at the cue card in his hands. “That actually provides me with a perfect transition to my next question; people want to know if you’ve been able to find a girlfriend since going pro.” You almost wanted to laugh. The people reading Sports Illustrated were the last group that would give a shit whether or not Shawn had a girlfriend, and you hated questions like that in any kind of interview; what did it matter? The interviewer would be wasting space if he wrote that question into the magazine. Regardless, you found yourself holding your breath in anticipation of Shawn’s answer. His eyes flicked up to you briefly, and you felt your own eyes widen as you were filled with the sudden feeling that he was going to say something stupid like it’s complicated, right Y/N? But then he looked back at the interviewer, and all was well again.

“Working on it,” he laughed, and you let all your air out at once. It was a safe answer, and it wasn’t exactly a lie. At least not from his point of view.

The interview ended quite quickly after that, Shawn shaking the interviewer’s hand after the two of them posed for a few pictures. With the first part out of the way, it was time for the shoot itself. Shawn was hurried off, likely to change into his Toronto uniform, as the SI crew began moving the room around to assemble the photo set (which was really just a couple of fancy white bed sheet-looking pieces of fabric to be used as a background). You tuned out Cassidy’s comments about the interviewer asking Shawn if he had a girlfriend and made a mental note to flag that question when Curt asked for your feedback. You caught yourself looking all around the room as people bustled about; what you were looking for you weren’t sure, until you saw Shawn re-enter in full uniform and you realized you’d been subconsciously scanning the room for him. You rolled your eyes at how predictable you were even without trying, but then internally came to the conclusion that just because you wouldn’t let yourself touch didn’t mean you couldn’t look. Because, really, it’d be nearly impossible to keep your eyes off of Shawn for the entire day, and everyone else would be looking at him, too; you wouldn’t appear to be staring at him any more than the next person. And he was always a sight to be seen in that uniform.

You were brought from your little space-out by the photographer’s bellowing voice taking command of the room. “Let’s get started, yeah?” he called out, stepping forward with his camera held carefully in his hands. “Shawn, let’s have you step onto the set.” You watched a little too intently as Shawn made his way in front of the white background, adjusting his hat and making sure his blue jersey was properly tucked into his white baseball pants. The photographer set him up with a wooden bat casually resting on his shoulder, then took a step back and frowned. “I don’t like this,” he muttered, evidently lost in thought. “Can’t see his face. Gonna have to lose the hat.”

“You,” he said, sending you a pointed glance and jabbing his finger in your direction. “Could you go get his cap?”

Your mouth formed a tight smile. “Sure,” you responded, though you knew it sounded strangled. You weren’t even the closest person to Shawn, but of course the photographer just had to ask you of all people. So much for your look, don’t touch rule; just your luck. You were further disgruntled by the fact that Shawn didn’t take the hat off of himself and hand it to you; he made you reach up and take it off yourself. Of course he did. He knew what he was doing. You avoided eye contact as you took the cap and turned to make your way off the set, but the photographer held up his hand.

“Wait, one more thing. Do me a favor and fix that piece of hair, I don’t want it over his face like that.”

He had to be kidding. You sighed and turned back around, stepping over to brush the hair off his forehead like you’d been instructed. You could feel Shawn’s eyes on you, and you were almost uncomfortable under the heat of his gaze; you were still somehow physically affected by him staring at you, but in a different way than usual. It usually made you excited, but now you were almost nervous, like there was a knot of anticipation in your stomach. You took a deep, steadying breath. As if things weren’t already hard enough without him looking at you like that.

“Thank you,” Shawn whispered as you took a step back, his eyes still glued to your face.

“Just doing my job,” you replied flatly, even though fixing Shawn’s hair for a photoshoot was in no way a part of your job description. You walked back over to stand by Cassidy, who shot you a small smirk.

“Have fun?”

“A blast,” you muttered sarcastically, clutching Shawn’s hat in your fist a little tighter than was necessary.

Three hours, two outfit changes, and one headline brainstorming session later, the lead from SI officially called a wrap. Their media team wasted no time importing the photos to make a digital manipulation of what the cover would look like, the words “Toronto Takes Off” in big, blue letters at the bottom of the page, a photo of Shawn taking up the whole cover. Curt cleared it for production, and with that the Sports Illustrated team began packing their equipment and heading out the door. No surprise to you, Shawn was thanking every single person as they began to trickle out.  

You turned to Cassidy, your back to Shawn, and began casually talking to her for all of ten seconds before she cut you off. “Not to freak you out or anything, but Shawn’s coming over here.”

You could feel your heart rate quicken, hating yourself for still involuntarily getting excited at the thought of even just talking to him. “Well keep talking to me then,” you pleaded, not daring to turn over your shoulder. “He’d never interrupt, he’s too polite.”

Cassidy sighed. “Y/N, I’m doing this because I love you,” she replied, an apologetic smile on her face as she began to back away from you. “You can’t avoid him forever. You need to talk to him.” Your eyes blew wide.

“Cassidy,” you hissed through gritted teeth. “Where are you going?”

“Sorry, friend. It’s not interrupting anything if I’m not here. Fill me in when you’re done.”

There was no point in you calling out after her, as she was quickly out of earshot. As soon as she was just about out of the room, you heard a shy “hey” from behind you. You reluctantly turned over your shoulder to face Shawn, forcing yourself to keep a neutral expression.

“Nice choice of jersey,” he continued with a small smirk, nodding at the blue top. You refrained from rolling your eyes; something like this happening was exactly what you were worried about that morning.

“Thanks,” you shrugged. “My jerseys kind of all have the same name on them, it’s not like I really have options.”

He shrugged his shoulders. “That’s not a bad thing. You look good in 98.”

You took a deep breath, choosing to not acknowledge his comment. “Is there something specific you wanted to talk about? I just...probably have to get back to work soon.”

He reached his hand up to scrub the back of his neck. “Oh, I was just wondering if you’ve come up with anything I can do to help you with what’s going on at work? I know I’ve offered before but I want to make sure you know how easily I could get to the general manager or someone like that and see if they could do anything about it. It really would be no trouble.”

You sighed. “That’s a sweet offer, Shawn, but I don’t report to the general manager. I already told you there’s nothing you can do, and even if there were, people aren’t going to change their opinions of me just because someone important comes along and intimidates them into having to play nice. Besides, if they heard about you trying to come to my rescue everything would just be worse.”

“I’m not trying to ‘rescue’ you, Y/N, I just want to help.”

“I know, Shawn, but that’s not how people would see it.”

“Why do you care so much about what everyone thinks of you?”

You ran a hand over your face, trying not to get frustrated. “We’ve already had this conversation, can we please not have a part two?”

“There’s gonna be as many parts as it takes for you to realize that you’re doing exactly what you’re supposed to be doing at work and that doesn’t change whether you’re with me or you’re not or whether people like you or not. I understand that you’re worried about getting a ‘real’ job after this, but how you’re doing in your job now is all that should matter for that.” He paused, taking a deep breath and scrubbing a hand over his face before continuing, more levelly. “I’m sorry. I’m trying to keep my cool, but I don’t want to let this go as easily as you did. I don’t know what else I’m supposed to do other than try to help you.”

That was not a turn you’d expected this awkward conversation to take. You looked up at the ceiling, trying to keep composure. There were still people around and you didn’t want to draw attention to yourself, especially not when you were talking to Shawn of all people (while wearing his jersey). “Nobody wants to hire someone they don’t like, Shawn. Please don’t make me sound like the bad guy for not wanting to be bullied at my internship and taken less seriously by almost everyone in a superior position to me. It wasn’t easy for me to stop this, I really hope that’s not what you actually think. I just need to establish myself in something more long-lasting with the team.”

He raked his tattooed hand through his hair, messing up his curls. “How long is that going to take?”

“I don’t know. I don’t even know if anybody on the hiring team likes me enough to even want to give me a lasting position.”

His expression softened a little. “It isn’t fair for them to judge your qualifications for a job based on anything other than your actual work. Our relationship shouldn’t have anything to do with it, and you shouldn’t have to change the way you live your life in order to cater to what you think they expect of you.”

You smiled, but it was sad. You missed Shawn like crazy and it had only been three days since you’d broken things off. Every time the feeling began to creep up on you, you had to remind yourself of the goals you’d set for your future and how being with him right now put that in jeopardy. It didn’t always help. “No, it’s not fair, but that’s the way it is. I’m looked at under a microscope because everyone expects me to be just another stereotype until I prove that I’m not. And I’ve not been doing a very good job at that.”

“So there’s no way for you to win, then,” Shawn sighed. He was finally starting to understand.

“Not until I get the executives to take me seriously enough to hire me for real.”

He nodded solemnly, looking off to his left. You could tell he was thinking. “Well, I guess just let me know when that happens.”

If that happened. But you didn’t have the heart to correct him. “I will. I should probably get back to work, though.”

“Oh, right. Sorry to keep you from it.”

You laughed a little. “It’s okay. You should probably get home and get some rest before the game tonight anyways. The Diamondbacks are tough.”

“Thanks for the reminder,” he smiled half-heartedly, and you offered a tiny smile in return as you turned over your shoulder to head back into the offices.

---------------

Later that day, Greg called you and the other five interns to his office for a meeting. You imagined it was because he wanted to check in to see how you were all doing, as the one-month mark since starting the internships was approaching. You and two of the other interns arrived to the office at the same time, taking seats around Greg’s small conference table as you waited for the others to arrive. You kept your eyes in your lap so as not to see the nasty way in which you were sure the other two, David and Matthew, were staring at you. As soon as the remaining three, Brandon, Tony, and Chris, had trickled in, Greg began asking questions. Whether or not everyone felt included in their departments, how demanding your workload was, what you were learning, if you were still finding time to keep up with the team itself, and so on.

He was about to switch gears from the rapid-fire questions when his desk phone rang, and he sighed and let out a little groan. He stepped over to his desk and pressed a button, plopping down into his swivel chair. “You’ve reached Greg, you’re on speakerphone.”

“Hey, Greg, it’s James. I’m with one of the statisticians finalizing the weekly report on the team’s numbers, but whoever’s in charge of score-keeping left out a few batting averages. Figured you’d know who that person is, so could you find them and ask for those official, current stats? I need them on Grichuk and Solarte.”

“Sure, James, if you give me just a few minutes, I’ll--”

“0.245 and 0.266.” You heard yourself say the words before you’d even realized you’d opened your mouth, and you felt every single person in the room focus their eyes on you.

Greg narrowed his eyes. “James, could you hold on just a second?” he asked, muting the phone before taking a slight step in your direction and focusing his attention on you. “Are you one-hundred percent positive about that?”

You took a breath, sitting up straight. Of course you were right. “Absolutely.”

Matthew spoke up next, a cocky smirk plastered on his mouth. “With all due respect, sir, she has absolutely no way of knowing that.”

You whipped your head around to face him, acting completely on impulse for once in your life. “I could recite the results of each of their last ten at-bats right now, off the top of my head. So yes, I do have a way of knowing that. Do you?”

“Knock it off,” Greg bellowed, and you and Matthew went quiet. Greg was silent for a few seconds, thinking, before he stepped back to unmute the receiver. “James? Yeah, still me. Grichuk’s batting 0.245 and Solarte’s at 0.266. Yes, I’m sure….Yeah, I can do that real quick. Uh huh...you too, bye.”

You felt a rush of energy in your chest that you refused to let your face give evidence of. Greg trusted you. He’d just taken you seriously. He sighed, hanging up the phone and staring back at the six of you. “You all wait here. I’ve gotta go ask someone a question, I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He turned to look solely at you. “I sure do hope you were right, kid.”

The second Greg was out the door the room became a lion’s den, and you were the sole prey. The guys turned their heads to you as though they were about to bear their teeth, and you gulped with the anticipation that came from knowing that they were surely going to tear you to shreds.

“What did you do, make flashcards or something?” Matthew began, and once he got the ball rolling the others wasted no time digging in, too.

Chris followed. “Gotta stay up to date on the team to fool the players into thinking she actually cares about baseball. How else is she gonna get them in bed?”

“Why do you have such a problem with me?” you snapped, hating yourself for the tears that stabbed the backs of your eyes. If you cried in front of these animals, you’d never recover. They’d bite into you until you ran for the hills and never looked back.

“Less than a month after you start working here you’re caught sneaking around with a player, especially one as good as Mendes, and you expect us not to call you out for what you are?” David sneered.

“There is nothing between me and any player on this team.”

They laughed, and you felt your bottom lip begin to tremble. Tony chimed in next. “I think the half a million people that’ve viewed that video of you and Mendes on MLB Network would beg to differ.”

You would never live that down. “That was a completely innocent interaction one time, and there is absolutely nothing there. You have no idea.”

“I’ll believe that when--”

“She’s right,” spoke a voice that had been otherwise silent the entire time. Brandon. The room was temporarily quiet. Everyone turned to face where he sat at the end of the conference table, his laptop computer opened in front of him. “A-About the stats on Grichuk and Solarte. I looked up the results of all of their at-bats since the last time the batting averages were officially updated. I did the math by hand to factor in the recent plate appearances to the previous averages in order to get the current numbers. Like it or not, 0.245 and 0.266 are spot on.” Brandon turned to look at you, his eyes wide and seemingly apologetic. “You were right, Y/N.”

You didn’t even have time to be proud of yourself before Tony was butting in. “So she has a good memory, big deal. That doesn’t prove anything.”

“Probably only memorized that stuff to impress Mendes in the first place,” Chris snickered, and all of the interns--with the exception of Brandon--began to snicker. “Jersey-chasing skank.” The continuous mentions of Shawn were snapping something in you that evoked a rage you’d never felt before. He wasn’t even technically in your life anymore, but these guys were finding a way to insert him there in an attempt to make you look bad--like a jersey chaser. Something you weren’t, and something you absolutely despised being called. Unable to maintain your composure any longer, you burst.

“Don’t talk about me like I’m not sitting right here. If you have something to say about me, you can say it to me. I’ve been pretty passive up in dealing with how you’ve all been treating me up to this point but I’m sick of feeling like I have something to prove to you guys. And even when I do prove that I obviously know what I’m talking about--like I just did with the batting averages--that still doesn’t seem to be enough for you. You don’t have to like the fact that I’m working for this team, but you do have to accept it and stop making excuses to undermine my motives like when you call me a jersey chaser.” By this point, you were yelling. You couldn’t help it. “You don’t get to disrespect my character and my capabilities because you’re secretly threatened by the fact that I’m a girl who has just as good a chance at getting a full-time job with the team as any of you do. I am your equal. In job title, in capability, and in potential. Don’t ever underestimate me again, or--”

You froze as you heard the door open from behind you, and you took heavy breaths as you felt your words hanging stale in the air, unanswered. The other interns’ eyes were immediately downcast, focusing on anything but Greg now standing in the doorway.

“Everyone out,” Greg commanded, low and quiet but menacing all the same. You grabbed your purse from your lap and stood to leave, completely drained of the energy you’d just exerted. Of course the one time you stuck up for yourself, your boss overheard without context and probably couldn’t stop thinking about how unprofessional you were. Just as you turned over your shoulder to head for the door with everyone else, Greg’s voice stopped you. “Not you, Y/N. You stay.”

Your heart sank. “O-okay.”

Once everyone else was out of the room, Brandon shooting you another look of apology as he went, Greg moved to sit in his swivel chair, leaving you still awkwardly standing in the middle of the room.

He turned in his chair to face you. “Shut the door, would you?” You silently complied, your heart hammering in your chest. You were going to get fired. You knew it. You’d been perfectly damage controlling, cutting your relationship with Shawn and focusing solely on work. You were on track to salvaging your reputation and proving yourself as a hard worker and nothing else--not even a jersey chaser. And then you’d gone and thrown it up in flames.

Greg gestured for you to take a seat, and you pulled one of the extra chairs that was against the wall up to the side of his desk. You sat down and squeezed your hands in your lap in an effort to keep them from shaking, but how much your legs were bouncing made up for the lack of nerves in your fingers. You didn’t say anything, just forced yourself to look at him and keep your composure.

“How’s your day been going?”

You almost scoffed; the last thing you’d expected was a question like that. “Um, good.”

Greg’s eyes widened and he leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest. “Good? Even after that conversation I just overheard? I’d actually call it more of an argument, on second thought.”

“W-what?”

“I could repeat some of the things that were said to jog your memory, but--”

“No, no, I remember,” you hastened, throwing one of your hands up.

“Are...are you doing okay?” Greg asked hesitantly, leaning forward in his chair towards you as though he were trying to psychoanalyze you. If you hadn’t known any better, you’d have thought he seemed concerned. For a reason you couldn’t put your finger on, it bothered you. You weren’t a wounded animal, and you didn’t need his pity.

“I’m fine, I just kind of want to hurry and get this over with,” you muttered, looking down at your lap.

Greg frowned. “Get what over with?”

“Being fired,” you whispered, still not daring to look up at him. You squeezed your eyes shut as though to brace yourself. At least you didn’t have to worry about crying; you were convinced you didn’t have the energy left to.

There was a short pause, but to you it felt like an eternity. Your words hung in the air, the silence seemingly a loud answer to your worst fear. But then Greg finally spoke. “I...Why would I fire you?” he asked, sounding genuinely taken aback.

“Because other people obviously have a problem with me working here,” you mumbled.

“Look here, kid,” he said, and you slowly brought your eyes up to meet his. “My wife has worked in the finance department for years, it’s how we met. I know she didn’t have it easy when she started and I have a feeling you can relate to that.”

You blinked, confused as to the path the conversation was going down. “I guess I can, yeah.”

“Your application for this position was incredible, I told you that on your first day. The work you’ve done while here is exactly the quality I expected it to be, if not better. Your being with this team is completely justified, despite what anyone else may be saying about you. It’s unfair that mockery like that is something you’re having to deal with undeservingly. Like this...name the other interns keep calling you; where are they getting it from?”

You scoffed. “I’d imagine because they can’t wrap their thick heads around the idea of a woman wanting to work in sports because she actually likes it and knows what she’s talking about,” you snapped, before immediately catching yourself. You felt heat rise to your cheeks. “Sorry, I didn’t--It’s just embarrassing. They’re calling me a jersey chaser because they think I’m only here for the guys in jerseys, plain and simple. And wrong, too.” You purposely left out that your relationship--ex relationship--with Shawn had only added fuel to their fire.

“And how long have they been treating you like this?”

You let out a huff of air. “Since day one, basically.”

His eyes got a little wider as he reached a hand up to run over the top of his head. “Why didn’t you tell me, or anyone else?”

“I told a friend from my department, but that’s it. I honestly didn’t think anyone would care enough to do anything about it. I can tell not many people like that I’m here in the first place, so what would be the point? They’d probably just think I can’t take a joke. Because how hilarious is being called a jersey chaser, right?” You laughed flatly, staring down at your lap and beginning to absentmindedly pick at your chipping nail polish.

Greg nodded, leaning back and folding his hands over his stomach. “I understand. Is there...anything else you want to add to that? Anything else you want to get off your chest while we’re here?”

Did he already know something? Whether he did or not, this was your chance to tell him yourself about Shawn; to let him hear the story from you first in the off chance he’d yet to hear it from someone else. But you weren’t quite sure of what to say, and you chuckled sheepishly, deciding to try and gage the situation. “Is there, um, something you’re expecting me to add?”

“Well, there’s been a lot of...talk...among the team executives about you. About your personal life. Which, if you ask me, is not relevant or appropriate for them to be discussing, but they’re my bosses so I can’t really do anything about that. But of course we’ve all seen that video on MLB Network, and it does naturally raise some questions. I wanted to give you the chance to speak for yourself; to ask you directly instead of speculating with everyone else.”

“Ask me about Shawn,” you confirmed, but then realized your mistake. “Oh, Mendes, I mean! Sorry. Ask me about Mendes.”

Greg laughed lightly. “I see you’re on a first-name basis, then. That answers quite a bit.”

“I--I don’t really know what to say,” you sighed, too exasperated to beat around the bush. You weren’t sure how Greg expected--or wanted--you to answer, and you didn’t want to say the wrong thing.

“Well, is Shawn a...part of your life?” You could tell that he was trying to choose his words carefully.

You huffed out a flat laugh. You could not believe you were having this conversation with your boss, of all people. “He was. Past tense.”

“And did that begin before or after you were hired to work here?”

“We met after I was hired, but before my first day at the office. It’s kind of a complicated timeline.”

“Right. Now--last question, I promise--do your coworkers have anything to do with the emphasis on the ‘past tense’ aspect of your relationship with him?”

“That’s a large part of it, yeah,” you muttered, looking down at your lap.

“So that’s where the ‘jersey chaser’ thing really fits in, then,” Greg confirmed, and you nodded.

“They thought that of me before that video of Shawn and I started circulating, didn’t think there could be any other reason why I would want to be working here. I couldn’t stand that I was confirming everyone’s stereotypical opinions of me, so I broke it off. I didn’t want it to impact my ability to get an official job here once the internship is over. I needed to keep my priorities straight.”

“Mhm,” Greg nodded, leaning back in his chair and folding his hands over his belly. “Well, I’m not explicitly saying that I do or don’t condone anything, but what I will say is that I think the hiring team would be a bunch of idiots to let you slip through their fingers for any reason. And I can promise you that, when the time comes for you to apply to work here for real, you have my full support. I don’t know how much that will get you with them, but I’ll back you anyways. I personally don’t think your life outside of work should have any influence on their hiring decisions, because the work you’ve turned out so far is phenomenal and beyond impressive considering you’re only an intern.”

You felt frozen. “So, you’re saying…”

“I’m saying that if you keep doing what you’ve been doing work-wise, I think you’ll be fine; all personal relationships considered. If you stay focused and don’t worry about the higher-ups, that new full-time Media Communications job opening could be yours.”

“Media Comm,” you mused, feeling your heart rate quicken in excitement. “That position operates out of PR; I’d still be with my department.”

Greg nodded his affirmation. “And I’d love to recommend you for it. Look, kid, I understand that this franchise means the world to you; it was enough to make you give up something really important. But I just don’t think that was necessary. Your work, dedication, and resolve speaks for itself. You’re gonna be just fine here.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing; you didn’t know what to say. “I--God, are you sure? I-I mean, are you serious?” Greg nodded, his mouth beginning to pull into a smile. “Thank you. You have no idea how important this is to me, how much it means for you to support me like that.”

“I think I might have at least a little bit of an idea,” he chuckled, and you breathed out a laugh. “And I also think you ought to go see him right now.”

“Go see who? Shawn?” you questioned, shocked. Greg nodded. “Um, well, I guess I will eventually, but I don’t get off until 6:30. That’s four hours from now.”

He let out a deep, bellowing laugh and you felt your forehead crease in confusion. “As your boss, I’m pretty sure I can work something out. Go, he should be getting here pretty soon to start prepping along with the rest of the team. Wouldn’t want you to miss him.”

You knew you were smiling like a little kid, but you didn’t care. Not only had you finally managed to stand up to the people who’d been making your life miserable, but someone important in the office was actually showing you kindness knowing what was going on in your personal life. “Thank you so much, Greg, I...Wow, I just…” you paused, taking a breath to calm yourself as you stood up from the chair you were in. “Thank you.”

“Of course, kid. Now get down to the player’s parking lot and wait for him. You know where it is?”

Your smile turned smug; of course you knew where it was. “Yeah, I do. I’ll see you at work on Monday, okay?”

“Yep!” Greg called, but you were already halfway out the door. You flew down the hallway to the ever-so-familiar Stadium Access door, not caring whether or not anyone saw you swing it open. You entered the hallway as you’d done so many times before, but you froze when you realized that your excitement had caused you to get ahead of yourself. You knew how to get to the dugout through these hallways, but you had no clue how to get up to the main concourse where the concessions and seating were, and therefore where the door to the team parking lot was. You’d hit a roadblock of sorts, and it was killing your mood.

You had to start somewhere, and you decided to venture down the path to your right and see where it took you. You followed it until you heard voices, and the closer you got the more familiar they began to sound. You rounded a corner and saw Kevin Pillar and Danny Jansen making their way towards you, and you breathed a sigh of relief as you realized that you’d somehow managed to pick the right way to go. When he saw you, Kevin paused.

“Hey, Y/N. Looking for Shawn?”

“Yeah, I am. Is he coming? Or is he already here?”

“I saw him pull up right as we were walking in. He should be right behind us.”

“Perfect, thank you so much.” Kevin nodded as if to say ‘you’re welcome’ and ‘goodbye’ all at once, and you decided to just stay put and wait for Shawn instead of chasing him down.

You leaned your right shoulder against the side of the hallway, tapping your foot on the ground anxiously as you waited for Shawn to appear from around the corner. After what felt like an eternity of anticipation, you saw his tall frame begin to come into view. He frowned as he recognized you, silently wondering what you were doing.

“Y/N? Is everything okay?”

“Shawn, hey. I--Shit, I don’t know. I got so excited I never really planned what to say.”

His brows pulled together. “Excited about what?”

“Long story short, work isn’t an issue anymore.”

He still looked confused, and he crossed his arms over his broad chest. “What do you mean?”

“Getting a job. I talked to my boss, told him everything about the interns and you and what I was worried about. He’s totally got my back. I don’t know if it’ll be enough, but he’s really high up with the team and he made it sound like I’d have a future here no matter what happened with my personal life.” Shawn was silent, staring at you blankly. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t make you nervous. “I’m saying we can go back to the way things were. O-Only if you still want, I guess, but you told me this morning to tell you when that happened and it did.”

“How’d you sneak away from work to even get down here?”

Your eagerness fell a little because he’d yet to acknowledge what you were saying, but you didn’t let it show. “Greg let me go. Told me to go, actually, was completely encouraging it.”

He sighed and turned over his shoulder to look back down the empty hallway, his face still not reading any sort of happiness over what you were saying. He grabbed your wrist and pulled you down a separate hall, out of sight and out of earshot of any of his teammates that could come venturing down the hallway at any minute.

Your heart was racing at this point and your mind was full of worry that something had changed, that it was too late and you’d already done irreversible damage. You felt dumb for assuming that you could just waltz down here and that things would go back to normal, as though you hadn’t put Shawn through extreme stress and frustration for the past four days.

The two of you came to a stop as Shawn led you around a corner, and he turned so that he was facing you and no longer had a grasp on your wrist. His face was still unreadable. “I’m sorry, I’m starting to think I made a mistake coming down here like this,” you began, looking down at the ground in embarrassment. “I don’t know why I thought you’d be more--”

You were cut off by Shawn finally speaking again, looking down at you with a smug expression. “Just wanted to psych you out.”

It was your turn to frown and be confused. “What?”

“Did it work?”

“Did what work?”

“Did I make you nervous?”

“I’m going to start getting really frustrated if you don’t tell me what you mean.”

“Well I was trying to freak you out a little by being all cryptic, but apparently all I did was make you mad,” he teased, but you still felt a little frozen.

“So that was all just to mess with me?”

He nodded, a shit-eating grin plastered on his face. You felt yourself let out a huge breath of air, the tension leaving your shoulders. “Well it worked, you asshole,” you laughed, and you were immediately swallowed by Shawn’s arms pulling you to him, wrapping all the way around you so tightly that you couldn’t have moved even if you’d wanted to. For the first time in days, something finally felt right again, and you were as content as ever.

“So no more of this?” Shawn asked, his voice muffled as he continued to hold you. “It can go back to normal?”

You nodded against his chest. “I’m really sorry, Shawn. I thought I was doing what was best for myself but I wasn’t thinking clearly and I never asked for help, that’s my fault. God, I was so worried you’d shoot me down for a second.”

He laughed, pulling away from you. “Why’s that?”

“Don’t know. The general lack of excitement threw me a little bit,” you giggled. “But in all seriousness, it would be selfish of me to just assume that you were waiting around for me to give a green light again.”

“Right, but I’m pretty sure I made it clear that that was exactly what I planned to do. Look, Coach is expecting me and I don’t want to keep you from work. But you can meet me in our spot before gametime like usual? We can talk more then?”

You nodded, grinning like an idiot. “Okay. But I’m going to need help getting back to that main hallway between the offices and the stadium. I have no idea where I am.”

---------------

Right at 6:30, you exited out of all of the tabs on your computer and immediately began to throw your belongings into your purse. You pushed your chair into your desk and stood up, swinging your bag over your shoulder.

Cassidy looked back at you as you stood up to leave, her perfectly arched brows knit together. “You’re not staying to watch the game with us in the clubhouse?”

“No, I am,” you replied with a smile, smoothing over your clothes. “I just have to go do something first. Save me a seat on the couch?”

“Always do,” she nodded, smiling and turning back to her computer.

You headed out of the office and down the hallway towards the elevators, taking it down to the first floor and walking to the Stadium Access door like you’d done so many nights before. Walking to the little room where you always met Shawn was like muscle memory by this point, and as you opened the door to see him already standing inside it was probably the most excited you’d ever been to see him. He greeted you with a huge hug and then took hold of your hands, and you wasted no time asking him how he felt about the game tonight.

“I’m finally getting used to playing without Justin,” Shawn shrugged, swinging your joined hands absentmindedly. “But this is going to be a tough series. The D-Backs are really good this year and I’d probably be happy if we could just win one game out of the three we play them.”

You nudged him teasingly. “Oh, come on. Don’t be so hard on yourself. Who knows? Maybe rookie second basemen are their weakness.”

He laughed. “Yeah, I’m sure,” he retorted sarcastically, and you grinned.

“You never know. Don’t forget to put your eye black on before the game, also. You usually have it on by now.”

He silently reached into his back pocket to hand you the tube, and you smiled in understanding of what he wanted you to do. You popped the cap off and moved Shawn’s hat back out of the way, placing a hand under his chin to anchor yourself as you drew the trademark black lines under his eyes as you’d done several times before. You were glad to be doing it again; it felt normal, and it felt right in a way you couldn’t describe.

You finished and took a step back to admire your work, handing him the tube back with its lid on. Shawn smiled, pausing for a second to look down at you just long enough to make you want to squirm under the heat of his brown eyes. You quirked your head to the side, looking at him in bemusement. “What?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged, looking off to the side. “It’s just good to be doing this again. It’s like I have my lucky charm back, I’ll be back on my game.”

You laughed. “Shawn Mendes does not need a lucky charm to play well. He never did.”

He grinned, pressing a kiss to your cheek before turning to leave. “Well, it’s almost gametime. Guess we’re about to find out if that’s really true or not.”

“Wait, there’s actually, um, something I wanted to tell you before you go to the dugout.” You could feel your heart hammering in your chest, and you tried to no avail to steady it.

“Yeah? What’s that?” he asked, coming back over and nonchalantly grabbing one of your hands to bring it up and place a kiss on the back of it.

“When we were in my apartment that night...fighting, I guess you could call it,” you shrugged nervously, staring down at the Nike symbol on Shawn’s cleats. You could feel the rambling coming on, but you were in too deep to stop talking now. “You said something that kind of caught my attention, and I don’t really know if you meant to say it, but I’ve been thinking about it a lot, and--”

“Y/N,” he chuckled. “Just say it, it’s okay.”

“You said you loved me,” you whispered, your eyes still on the ground. Your words hung in the air so long that the anticipation almost brought tears to your eyes.

“That’s ‘cause I do,” Shawn finally said, matter-of-factly, and you snapped your eyes back up to his.

“Really?” you cried, unthinking. “Wait, shit, I mean…What I’m trying to say is...” You sighed, taking a breath to reset. “I love you, too,” you mumbled, kicking your toe into the ground.

“What was that?” Shawn asked, and you could hear the smirk in his voice.

“I love you too,” you said, still muttering, but a little louder.

“Sorry, one more time?”

“I said that I--” You were cut off by Shawn’s lips pressing onto yours, and as your hands found a home on his body you felt yourself deflate.

He pulled away, his palms pressed to either side of your face as his brown eyes bore into yours with an intensity you’d never experienced. “I love you.”

You giggled. “I love you, too,” you said, and you meant it. It had taken separation and tension for you to realize it, but you were glad you did. It was a special feeling, one you hadn’t felt in a long time and definitely never this strong. You were completely wrapped around Shawn’s finger, whether or not you wanted to admit that to yourself.

“Oh yeah?” he said, stepping back and folding his arms across his chest, a smug smile plastered on his face. “How much?”

“Don’t get cocky,” you laughed, and he grinned right along with you.

“‘M just messing with you. I’ll see you after the game though, yeah?”

“Sure,” you nodded as he turned away, but you weren’t done yet. “Shawn?”

He paused, looking back over his shoulder at you with a smile that nearly rendered you useless. “Hmm?”

“To center field and back. That’s how much. Good enough?”

He grinned, coming back for one last kiss. “Of course it is. I love you to center field and back, too.”

With that he finally left for the dugout, and even all the way from that little room you could hear the increase in the crowd’s volume as Shawn once again returned to his home at second base.

Taglist (I’m so sorry if it wouldn’t let me tag you): 

@ashwarren32 @d-arkestangel @idkseavey @yellowitsmendes @north1692 @calistheloml @perfectlywrongfm @gentleshawn @mariemmendes @shawnsmercy @wildest-dream- @shortieshake @shadowsndaisies @yourwonderbelle @madon566 @ruinmeshawn @itrocksmysocks @just-another-fan-girl-for-you @ilovejackavery @vnv21 @twoisalwaysbetterthan1 @planstonightbaby @lou-la-lou @greteeweetee @shawnyimagines @helpmemendes @overactiveimaginati0n @princessflutterwolf @justjustyncase @cali--marie @falling-stars-never-cry @ashftshawn @captaincorbyn @colorful-dodie @andreburakovskyyyyyyy @giveme-gaskarth @ayetami @x-seventeen-x @onlynarry @to-the-road @hollandechart @princessmendes13 @rare-breed-of-human @iamamuggleborn @prettymuchboodup @supernatural-lover-teamfreewill @jc-paramore @etherealchar @ykicantbefoundwithyou @choripxn @noodleboyluke @petit-funsize @heavenly---holland @the-claire-bitch-project @calumasfuckkkk @sleepybesson @shawnshufflepuff @zankivich @justanothergirl-80 @qxeen-of-hearts @begging-mnds @shawnsvlogsquad

[endoftheroad1983]

Down the rabbit hole...

Down the rabbit hole.

Poe Dameron x reader

Chapter one

The hissing of the metal door sliding open brought a streak of bright light into the room. Your eyes closed from the brighteness and you let out a hiss of your own. You had been serverly beaten. You also had no idea where you were or how long you had been there. A couple of boots can storming in. They made no movement until the door was shut again. It made the room pitch black once more.

Click

Pale yellow ceiling light came fluttering on. Has that light always been there? You asked yourself. You ingore your guests as they were doing the same to you. One of the white armor men move around your cell as though they were looking for something.

“I don't understand. This is where the weapon is?”  A man's voice spoke up after putting his weapon down. The other one was still searching the room, they gave up, and question the other. Horrible memories of your beating sparked from that word.

Weapon

“That's what the intel...” But you cut the other off by kicking the legs out of the white armor man that was the closet. Then you were quick on your feet to bull charge the other one against the door.

“I'm not a weapon!” You hiss as you tried to find the opening of the door.  But it was futile. A pair of strong hands grabbed your shoulders from behind and pulled you away from the door. You ingore the pain that they were causing. Under the long sleeve shirt, your arms were covered in bruises. You bit your tongue to keep from speaking.

“Hey! Whoa slow down, We are not here to hurt you!” The one you had charge into spoke up as he was getting up off the ground. He  held up his hands and then slowly pulled his helmet off. His very dark skin bounce off the metal door with ease. And to prove that his friend was right, the pair of hands dropped away from you.

“We are with the Resistence. We got intel that said that Hux and Ren are holding a special weapon in this cell.” Again your skin began to prickle with anger. Resistence? This wasn't making any sense to you. Your head was now spinning and your malnourished body was giving away. You turn to face both of them.

“I am not a weapon for no one.” You choke out the words even though your vision already gave away. Soon you slipped  back into  the black void that you were all to familiar with.

What did you do wrong that day?

How did you fall so far down?

Why are you still not listening?

“The murder rate has gone of 9 percent, Y/N!, just this year.” Your mother was rambling on again about the horrible parts about New York. You shake your head and prayed thankfully that you two were on the phone. She would have snapped at the fix grin on  your face. It was 2018 what did she expect the crime to start vanishing by now?

“Mom, I’m going for a three day con. I'm not moving here. Besides I'm staying at B/F/N the whole time. So I’m not going to be alone.” You have used this speech every year at the same time for the last ten years. How was this going to any different?

“I worry about you. I don't think you'll ever listen to me?” She sighed in the phone. I bit back a retort and instead anwsered with,

“I'll send you pics throughout the day? Will that help you?” She hummed her approval as she knew she couldn't talk me out of it.

“Ok, with that settled, I really got to go now. Bye, I love you.” And with that you ended the call as you begain gathering your luggage and artwork into your arms as the bus roared to a stop.

Fresh air brought you back from your pass out. Your eyes flutter open but your vision was blurr with tears. But a second later you snapped out of it. You were being dragged by the two armor guys. You don't recognised where they were taking you.

“Easy, just keep your head down. Your doing fine, Sweetheart.” It was the one that had grabbed you from behind that spoke. You slowly dropped your head back down and closed your eyes.

“That's a girl.” He priase you again. Your heart was beating so loud in your chest you were sure you were going to get caught. And with that thought it made your heart beat faster. It was a never ending loop.  You could start to feel your arms beginng to throb in pain. That's when you realise that they were not holding you tightly. You fought the gulp of air that tried to escape from a horrible thought. What if they were taking you somewhere far worse then this? You should've listen. Your mind scolded you for the thousandth time.

“Poe!” The other one harsh whispered him. You felt your body turn in a different direction and hissing of a door. They had lead you to a larger room, you could feel the cold difference. The surrounding area was getting darker.

“Finn! Over here.” He order and that was when you felt them releasing you. You were gently set on the floor up against metal crates. You took the chance and scan the area. As you did you saw that the two males were stripping off the white armor.  They tossed them inside a nearby crate.

“It look's like we will be clear to take off without a problem, What about that one, Poe? Will that fit all of us?” You couldn't see where he was pointing at. The hope of getting out of here was starting to break the grim energy that had taken you over.

“We can make do with that. Just make sure you ready for any action.” One again you felt arms wrap under your legs and waist. You were being crandle in the mans arm's with ease.

“Finn, take her and stay here. On my signal, you'll hand her off to me and get into position. Ok?”

“Yea.” His voice was shaky as you were passed to him. You could feel his heart beating faster but then again was it yours?

No time past, at least in your mind it didn't. But you could feel your body being jousted as the man ran to where he was suppose to be.

“Here, you can give her to me now.” The deep voice guide him.

“Are you going to be able to pilot with her on your lap?” He asked hesitantly. Which you would have reacted to if you were so near your deathbed.

“I can.” He said with an arrogant grunt.

You found yourself in the driver's lap. You were barely managing to stay awake but everything you were seeing was making you very alert. You found yourself in a cock pit that held a variety of buttons.

“What kind of car is this?” You asked. You hadn't made verbel contact with them since you passed out. You still couldn't fully focus on your surroundings but you knew that there was something was very off.

“What's a car?” He asked but then changed his mind, “Nevermind, Shhh we are almost safe.” He began to hit random buttons and the vehicle sprung to life. You jerk a bit and grab onto his shirt that was the closest to you. Where the hell where you? But you remain silent.

“Uhh, Poe?” The other voice spoke up. You had forgtten that there was another guy with you guys,”uhh Four Stormtroopers just enter the hanger. They are armed.” The guy didn't try leaving the tension out of his voice. “I think they are looking for her.”

“It's fine just stay still til I can punch it into overdrive!” He answer. You jerked your head up from his chest.

“Overdrive?” You whimpered. The man dark eyes lit up with curisoty at the words you just repeated to him. He let one of his arms go as they wrapped around your waist pulling you back into his chest.

“Shhh, just stay still, please.” He begged as he was scared you were going to give you all away. You obey knowing that your life was in the balance as well. So instead of questioning all the werid beeping nosies, you focus on your staggering breathes. You use this technique to slow down your heartbeat. You watched to many horror movies to let yourself be captured again because you couldn't control your heavy breathing. And soon you found yourself drifting off in your own mind.

It wasn't until the intense stopping that woke you up. The force had thrown you forward toward the controls. Quickly a arm snake around your wraist and stop you from the impacted.

“Nice work Buddy!” He praised happily to the man in back.

“Your one hellva pilot Poe!” He beamed back. What did you miss? Poe chest was bounce up and down in excitement bring you to the realisation that you were in his lap. You slowly began to sit up.

“Easy now.” He directed you. That's when you feel a gash in the side of your head. It was the main source of the throbbing pain in your head.

“What's happening?” You couldn't tell if you spoke outloud or not.

“We escaped the base and are now heading back to our outpost.” You relaxed for a moment after hearing that you were away from that evil place. You let out a happy prayer.

“We'll be there any moment. Try and relax, you got a nasty head wound. I already have a med team waiting for our arrived.” As he was speaking you finally gain enough courage to look out the windows.

Nothing but blackness was out there. You couldn't contain the gulping in your throat. Your back stiffen and you were frozen in place. All you could do was stare out the window gawking at the veiw in front of you.

“Are we in space?” you finally whispered.

“Poe, I think she more disillusion then we thought. She not making any sense.” the other man spoke up. You nod your head in agreement. Something was diffenetly up.

As on cue, your head began pounding again and you had to cover your eyes. It was getting worse by the moment. Bright white light was taking over your vision as your ears were overcome by a painful pounding sound.

“Don't let her sleep...”

“Hey, Hey you heard him. I need to stay awake for a few minutes longer.”

Rough jearking of the ship you were in had you crying in pain and suddenly everything stopped. The cock pit door, hissed open letting in freash cold air.

“Medic! Medic now!” And then you were out again.

That was three days ago. You had woken up in a make shift hospital. A young nurse looked over you and began asking questions. You remain quiet as you were trying to wrap up everything in your head.

“Do you remember what happen to you?” The young nurse asked. Now that it was mention. You had no idea what had happen in the last 48 hours.

“That's alright, you seemed to be in shock when they brought you in.” She looked over the file again and was going to ask another one when a doctor enters the room.

“That's enough Tilly, I can take over now.” The young girl nodded as she quickly exit the room. The Doctor look over a clear tablet. She took over the chair that the nurse was sitting in.

“How are you feeling?” She asked as she poured a cup of water of you.

“Really confused and I feel drained of my energy.” You answered weakly after drinking the whole cup. Without any questions, the doctor filled the cup again.

“Yes. Well you had a five inch gash over on your right side forehead and several broken ribs.” You moan at that infromation. They will pay, you silently vowed.  

“How long have a been out?” You moved your legs and felt how stiff they were.

“Three days?” Your eyes widen in shock. It only felt as though you slept over night.

“Yes, we are amazed at that as well. You should at lease have another week for the bruises to fully heal and another three weeks for the ribs.” The doctor continue going over the report.

Your mouth hung open as your hand wonder over your stomach and ribs. Nothing was hurting.  With a quick pulse you threw the covers off you and jumped out of the bed. The sudden movement made the doctor cry out.  You stopped when you found a mirror to look into. The gash on your head look as though a it was made by a cat.

“H h how?” You stutter at your image, “I felt a bigger gash. I felt the blood.” You pushed yourself away from your reflecation and slowly wonder back into the bed. That was when you realise that there was a guard in the room as well. The doctor held her hand up to him stay where he was. Did you miss something? Your eyes wonder back and forth from the two.

“She just startled me, you may leave.” The guard nodded to her and then gave a small nod to you.

“I'm sorry.” You whisper your apologies. You didn't realise what your actions has cause.

“No need to apologies. It's Base life.” The Doctor made the joke as if you would get it as well.

“Base Life?” The doctor again looked over you. She hummed for a minute. Before she pulled the see through tablet out again.

“Ok, I think you may have amnesia, Would you condone in a small verbal test for me?” You nodded your agreement.

“Ok we will start with the basics. What is your name?”

“Y/N  L/N” You answer with great ease. The doctor typed in down.

“Are are you in any pain?”

“No, not anymore.”

“Ok Y/N, Where are you from?”

“Athens, Ohio.” This cause the doctor to stumble for a second.

“And where is that?”

“In the United States of America.” Again the words just slipped form your mouth. The doctor again was stun by the answer.

“I'm sorry, I have been a doctor in the Resistence for many years now. We have been through-out the galaxy and I haven't heard of that before. What planet is that?” It was now your turn to be confused. Galaxy?

“Earth,” This can't be happening? Your mind was panicing.

“Earth?” She typed the infromation into her tablet and stood up.

“Ok Y/N, I want you stay and rest for the remainder of the night. I will back tomorrow morning to check on you. If you need anything Nurse Tilly will be on duty.” She began to turn away when she must of seen the look on your face. “We will all figure this out tomorrow. So please rest, you are safe here.” The doctor was nice and sincere.  A  refreshing feeling sprung from it as you were only use to the cold, short, Doctors of your time. Am I really in Wonderland? Your mind wonder as you snuggle down into the bed. Even the detrgent that they use was completely different.  It didn't take you long to fall alseep. You were lying ealier when you said that you had no energy. The wonders of what was going to happen in the morning where your last thoughts before sleep took over you.

The sounds of feet walking back and forth outside your door had woken you from your sleep. The room was dark as you notice that the windows were dimmed down. The Nurse must have done that while you were sleeping. You sat up and watched the movements under the door until a knocking rose from it.

Nurse Tully came in with tan and brown clothes in her hands. She smiled brightly to you as you brought the clothes to a dresser.

“Good Morning,” She greeted, “How are you feeling today?” With a second of thinking about it you were feeling as though nothing had happen to you at all.

“Better, thank you.” You decided to keep that tidbit to yourself.

“Excellent to hear. If you would like to try, There is a Refresher in that room there.” She pointed to another door that you seem to have not noticed.

“When you are done, General Organa wishes to have a word with you.” Your froze at the news. Were you in a war zone? You were quick to rinse and clothes. The tan shirt and brown pants where a little tight but it was better then a flimsy nightgown. And soon found yourself waiting for the nurse to come back. But she didn't instead it was the Doctor from the night before.

“Hello Y/N,  Are you ready to go?” She smile as you hopped off the bed.

You were lead down a corriador of hallways, turn after turn a ping of familiar lit in your stomach. But you couldn't place it. Finally the Doctor lead you to a doorway. A loud hiss interrupted the silence of the hallway. You enter the room to see a  round table  in the middle of bright lit room. There were only two other people in the room. A larger male with a black beard in orange overalls sat at the table. The other was a  older women with her grey hair pulled into a bun. She wore a welcoming smile as you appraoch the table. You were seated with the table in between you and the table and the guy by your side. Probably for security, you hummed to yourself.

“Hello, Y/N L/N. My name is Leia Oragana and this is Captain Wexley of Blue Squadron.” You turn your head and gave a polite nodded and smile and then return your eyes on General Organa. You could only wonder what this was about.

“I have heard that you are far from home?” She asked that as a question but the warm twinkle in her eyes told you a different story.

“Yes.” Your voice was very strong for a one worded answer. The Smile on the General never faded.

“And can you tell us anything about your time on the Basekiller? Anything you can think of?” That was when confusion melted with panic began to expand in your chest.

“Basekiller?” You question her with any question.

“Yes, I  asume that's where you gotten injured from?” Memoeries of what had happen was flooding your brain now. Along with the images came the full emotion damage as well and a sharp pain explode in your head.

“Easy, Easy.” You were coach to breathe, “General, I think she's been in shock not Amnsia. Give her a few days of rest and then maybe she can talk.” General Organa hummed her agreement.

After a minute the pain cease and I was able to look up at them again.

“If I in shock then it really means that you guys don't know where I'm from? Does Earth even exsist here?” You asked in low voice. Both the Captain and General both looked at each other.

“Let's take it one step at a time, shall we?” She smiled brightly at you.

You were sent back to the med room for another night. The quickness of healing of the gash still amased everyone at the base includeing the doctor. But she made it loud and clear that with the little supplies  that there was no way of telling what was happening in the brain. She wanted you under watch for the night.

It was a little over an hour you've been in your room when the door openned and a guard walked in.

“Good Evening. I was sent here to delviery this to you.” She quickly nodded and handed you this folder. Have a nice night night Ma'am.” She was quick on her heels to leave.

You open the folder to see a schule was made out. Not just one for you but of Captain Wexley and General Organa's as well. A simple handwritten note was attach to the paper. It read for her to met up with the two everyday and different times. It was a way for them to know you as well as you to get to know them.  Well that doesn't sound to bad, maybe they can help me find my way home, You daydream as you ready yourself for bed. But you just didn't know how much of a rollor coaster of a ride that you were really in store for.