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falcor-thee-luck-dragon · 4 years ago

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What a Time to be Alive - Diego Hargreeves x reader Season I

Chapter 6- The Day That Wasn’t

Summary: Eyyy another family meeting, and let’s see if you can get Klaus sober again.

Masterlist - where all the other chapters are⚔️

Tagged: @sambucky8 @white-wolf-buckaroo @2cuteforyourlies @la-vie-en-amour1 @fandomoverlord221 @thatfandombitcch @alonewolfsblog @starrrybarnes @winterboobear11

You’ve been summoned yet again for another Hargreeves family meeting, you’re not even a legit Hargreeves either. But alas, you’ve known them since you were 12 and this is kinda Diego’s family so, even a bigger reason to be here. You’re all positioned in various spots around the bar area, as Allison kindly hands everyone a coffee while her and Luther talk about what Five said earlier. Diego’s sitting on your left while you lean into his side, the both of you sharing a cup of coffee since Allison’s container only held four. Klaus is sitting on the floor in front of the other chair-type-couch opposite of you and Diego, Luther is seated on a barstool while Allison stands next to him, leaning herself against the bar.

“Three days?” Questions Allison, at the literal bombshell of learning that the apocalypse is coming.

“That’s what Five said.” Replies Luther taking a cup from her.

“The old bastard did mention the apocalypse, come to think of it. He just left out the part about how soon.” Says Klaus, taking a small sip from his cup.

“But can we trust him? I don’t know if you’ve noticed but Five’s a little...” Allison makes a circular motions to her head as she whistles. Klaus chuckles, “Our little psycho.”

“He was pretty convincing. If he wasn’t trying to stop an apocalypse, those lunatics wouldn’t be chasing him.” Explains Luther. You give a small nod while Diego hands you the half empty cup with his non injured arm.

“Yeah.”

“What did Five even see?” Allison asks Luther, the rest of you staring intently, listening to the crucial information he’s about to tell you next. His face seems to fall a bit, like he doesn’t really want to reveal any details. “Uh....apparently, we all fought together against whoever was responsible.” He pauses, looking at all your faces, clearly still hiding something. Now this information you hadn’t had a chance to hear yet, so you’re all ears to learn how the world ends. Luther then gets up off the barstool, “Okay. So, here’s the plan. Uh, we go through Dad’s research..” The four of you all start speaking at once, definitely not interested in searching through any old papers. “Hold on, hold on.” “Wait a tick, wait a tick, wait a tick.” Diego and Klaus interrupting each other.

You finally speak up, gaining everyone’s attention, “Luther, we’re missing a...oh I don’t know... a minor detail here, what happened the first time around? What did Five see?” He looks at you nervously, well that can’t be good. “Yeah. What are you not telling us? Come on, big boy, spit it out.” Adds Diego. Luther’s eyebrows furrow, he looks almost scared. For a good five seconds he stares back at the four of you, then he looks down at his coffee cup before taking a sip he says something you almost didn’t catch, “We died.” He whispers as he takes a long sip, your nerves prick, you definitely heard that right.

“What was that?” Wonders Allison wanting to hear it louder.

Luther brings his cup down, clearing his throat for a second, “I said, uh, we died.” He says louder this time.

Everyone’s faces morph into that of complete shock and evident surprise. Just hearing him tell you everyone dies again, still sends your nerves into hyperdrive, a wave of fear washing over you instantly, and it’s only Wednesday.

——

Some time passes and more squabbling ensues, now your all sitting around the bar practically interrogating Luther about the apocalypse, he’s doing his best to answer your rapid fire questions. You suddenly hear the sound of Vanya’s light footsteps roaming around the Academy with someone following her? They don’t appear to be of any threat either. Huh. “No, outside the house. Everyone died.” “You don’t say” “That’s terrible.”

“Hey.” Says Vanya, finally revealing herself and her less then suspisous looking friend, who’s smiling oddly at the five of you. The others look up from their conversation. “What’s going on?” She wonders.

All of you shift around awkwardly, “It’s a family matter.” Replies Allison, you cringe inside, eh probably not the best thing to say to Vanya right now, considering no one invited her.

“A family matter. So you couldn’t bother to include me.” Scoffs Vanya, disappointed but not surprised at her family’s tendencies.

“No, it’s not like that. We were...” Starts Luther, apologetically, “Don’t let me interrupt.” Vanya cuts in turning to walk away.

“Wait.” Says Allison rushing over to a retreating Vanya, “I’ll fill you in later when we’re alone.” She pleads, trying to make amends.

Vanya waves her off, “Please, please, don’t bother. And I won’t either.” Snaps Vanya turning to face Allison.

“Vanya that’s not fair.” Jabs Allison, uh just leave the poor woman alone, you think. Vanya’s face falls, “Fair? There’s nothing fair about being your sister. I have been left out of everything for as long as I can remember. And I used to think it was Dad’s fault, but he’s dead.” She turns angrily to look at the rest of you by the bar, “So it turns out you’re the assholes.” She sourly ends with, turning away and walking out of sight, her friend trailing behind her.

“Ouch.” Comments Klaus, you raise a glass to that, downing the whole thing in one gulp. Allison turns around to face the rest of you, “I’m gonna go find Vanya and explain.” She says, not feeling right about what just happened. “No, wait, there isn’t time. We need to figure out what causes the apocalypse. Now there are loads of possibilities.....Nuclear war, asteroids. But I’m thinking this is about the Moon. Right? Dad must have sent me up there for a reason. And I was giving him daily updates on the conditions, I sent field samples.” Rambles Luther, you share a bored look with Diego, then to waste time you stick your tongue out at Klaus, who returns the favor. “The first thing we need to do is find his research.” Klaus suddenly cuts in, “Hold the phone. We all died fighting this thing the first time around. Remember?” Points out Klaus.

“That actually makes sense, surprisingly. What gives us the upper hand this time around?” You wonder, hoping this meeting will end soon, you’ve got assassins to hunt.

“Five. Last time we didn’t have him. We weren’t all together.” Answers Luther as Klaus gets off the barstool holding a hand up to his mouth like he’s about to vomit. Luther continues oblivious, “This time, we’ll have the full force of the Umbrella Academy. That’s what we need.” States Luther ever so confident in his leadership skills.

“Okay, little problem. Five’s MIA once again.” You add bluntly, leaning yourself against the bar, raising your eyebrows at Luther who’s on the other side.

“Well, he had a plan to change the timeline. He’ll be back soon.” Answers Luther, only a tinge unsure of himself, you roll your eyes at him. “I’m going after those masked motherfuckers.” You growl, not wanting to waste anymore time. Luther looks at you in slight confusion, Diego speaking up to clarify, “Hazel and Cha-Cha.” You push yourself up off the counter, walking around the bar and past them as Luther questions why, “What, right now?” Diego follows you turning to answer Luther, “Hell, yeah.”

Luther then does his best to stop you, “I know you wanna avenge your friend, but we got bigger problems here.” You swiftly twist around walking in closer to Luther, if he didn’t know any better he’d probably be a tad bit afraid, “She didn’t deserve to die like that, neither have countless others. If I’m gonna die....and I mean actually die. I want to know it was me who killed those fuckers.” You hiss, fed up with being forced to listen for 20 boring minutes about the apocalypse and how we’re gonna stop it. Five’s not even here to help, so what’s the point. You needed more information first. Not caring for an answer from Luther, you turn around and head elsewhere.

——

After a bathroom pit stop cause lets be real coffee does that to you, you walk into the hallway, not hearing a single sound. Alright where did Diego go? You close your eyes and listen, hyper focusing on the world around you, searching in the darkness for a sliver of sound. Your ears prick at the creaking of floorboards up above you and the familiar thump of Diego’s boots along with Klaus’. Got em, they’re in the attic.

Silently walking up the wooden staircase you turn to your left, walking into the room to see Diego tying Klaus up to a chair. “If I see a boner, I’m out.” Grumbles Diego, who’s walking around Klaus in a circle while tightening the blue rope. You snort, “Is this a bad time?” The two of them shoot their heads up to look at your amused face. “Oh, hello there Y/H. I’m gonna get sober.” Says Klaus casually, his face scrunching up as he starts to laugh. You smirk, folding your arms together, “Interesting. End of the world and you wanna get clean? I mean, you go Klaus, but I’d guess you’d wanna pop every pill in sight.” You wonder, truly puzzled as to his true motives. “Oh, the thought did cross my mind, believe me, but there’s something I need to do, and the whole pesky thing doesn’t seem to work unless I’m sober.” Explains Klaus as Diego gets on his knee to tie down Klaus’ legs. “Is this about conjuring the one you lost?” Asks Diego, Klaus just sighs sadly. “What was her name?” Diego wonders, still working on that knot.

You notice how Klaus’ face shifts from sad to happy to sad again, “His name was Dave. We soldiered together in the A Shau Valley...in the Mountain of the Crouching Beast.” He let’s out a shaky breath, you feel for him, the way he talks about Dave and how his body language changes with different emotions, the way he smiles adoringly at his sweet memories. It’s almost like how Diego looks when he’s complimenting you on something. Your heart hurts for Klaus, you couldn’t imagine a world without Diego in it, life would be so much more dull and quiet. “He must have been a very special person to put up with all your weird-ass shit.” You tell him while smiling, he snorts breaking out into a large grin, “Yeah. Yeah, he was...He was kind, and strong, and vulnerable, and...beautiful. And I was foolish enough to follow him all the way to the front line.” He explains, his voice changing with every emotion. Diego looks up in surprise, “You fought in the shit?” Klaus looks at him, “Oh yeah, war couldn’t take enough bodies. Please. Including his.” Klaus’ face darkens, but only for a moment, “Hey, look at us. Logging in some quality bro time before the end of the world.” Cheers Klaus, Diego gives a slight chuckle, finishing the last knot and getting up to walk towards you.

“Ah, shit.” Whines Klaus loudly, both of you turning to see what’s the matter.

“What?” Asks Diego.

“I need to pee.”

You roll your eyes looking around the room, spotting what you had in mind, “Okay good, here’s a bucket.” Walking over to it, you pick it up, setting it down next to Klaus. “Piss, shit, throw up, whatever you need to do. It’s your multipurpose bucket, have a blast.” You tell him sarcastically, giving him a kind smile. He looks back up at you with an unpleasant gaze, wanting to argue but knowing to well that you’d just harass him more. Diego turns to leave, you following right behind him, “No wait, come back. Come back! Come back you pricks!” He shouts defiantly, you don’t want to but it’s for the best, so you ignore him. Trailing Diego down the stairs.

Reaching the bottom of the steps, you just need a moment to chill, maybe a ten minute break. With that in mind you walk towards your old bedroom, Diego silently following your lead.

Walking inside you stop and stretch, taking in your surroundings, “Damn, this room is nicer then the one back home, er...well...we don’t exactly have a bedroom.” You tell him, walking over to the large bed, where you jump on it, laying sprawled out on the whole thing. Ugh, you forgot how comfortable it was, and so soft too.

Diego stands in the middle of your room, fiddling with his arm brace, since he did get shot and all. He suddenly looks up at you smiling, laughing to himself, “What’s so funny Hargreeves?” You call out to him, still staring up at the ceiling. He chuckles again, “Remember when Luther burst through here, cause he thought we were doing something else. When we were really just jumping on the bed, smacking each other with those foam swords you bought at the dollar store.” You smile at the memory, letting out a breathy laugh. “I honestly can’t believe none of them ever actually caught us in the act. That was a true miracle.” You mutter. Diego starts walking over to you with a hint of something new in his eyes, your face falls into a frown when you hear the oddly familiar humming of, Grace? But that can’t be, how is she?

Noticing your abrupt change in mood, Diego stops, confusion and a bit of disappointment flashing through his dark eyes. You make eye contact with him, “This is gonna sound crazy. But I can hear Grace humming downstairs.” You tell him, his eyebrows furrow, he definitely was not expecting you to say that of all things.

——

The both you walk cautiously down the stairs and into the main living room where Grace is dusting the head of a warthog. Humming to herself as casually as ever, you stand in the doorway, letting Diego walk up to her. He questions how she’s able to walk around like nothing bad ever happened to her. Grace answers cheerfully, smiling brightly. You decide to let them have their peace, so you turn around and wait by the front door.

Diego and Grace walk aimlessly into the front room, it appears that Grace would like to go for a walk in the park this evening. With nothing better to do and no clear idea where Hazel and Cha-Cha could possibly be, you follow along.

By the time you all make it halfway through the park, it’s dark out and the night air is cool, your personal favorite time of day. Not a lot of people are walking around, the world is quieter, and there’s no sun to blind you when you forget your sunglasses. Grace suddenly stops, a look of concern melted onto her smooth features, “There’s something else that needs to be said, Diego. Pogo and I...we’ve been lying. Lying to all of you.” She states, you walk in closer to her, “What do you mean Grace?” You ask her, perplexed as to what she might tell you next.

——

The six of you gather around the bar, all conversing about how the apocalypse could start and how we might be able to stop it. From your spot behind the bar, next to Diego, you get the oddest feeling of deja vu. When a flash of blue unexpectedly appears, bringing Five with it. He falls onto the table in front of you, landing hard on a black briefcase. The rest of you, jumping back in surprise, definitely not expecting Five to randomly teleport from out of nowhere.

“You guys, am I still high, or do you see him, too?” Asks Klaus bewildered, as Five rolls off the side of the bar.

“Five, where have you been? Who did this?” Demands Luther as he and Allison go to help Five up.

“Irrelevant.” Snaps Five, on to more important things.

He takes a coffee cup out of Luther’s hand, and downs the whole thing. As you all watch, completely dumbfounded as to what’s even happening right now. Five finishes his drink, turning around with a hard look on his face, “So, the apocalypse is in three days. The only chance we have to save our world is, well, us.” He explains.

“The Umbrella Academy.” Says Luther, stating quite the obvious.

“Yeah, but with me, obviously. So if y’all don’t get your sideshow acts together and get over yourselves, we’re screwed. Who cares if Dad messed us up? Are we gonna let that define us? No. And to give us a fighting chance to see next week, I’ve come back with a lead.” Five says, holding up a white folded piece of paper, “I know who’s responsible for the apocalypse. This is who we have to stop.” Allison takes the paper from his hand, the rest of you gathering around her to see what it says. “Harold Jenkins?” She wonders aloud.

“Who the hell is Harold Jenkins?” Questions Diego.

#the umbrella academy #the umbrella academy x you #diego hargreeves #diego hargreeves x reader #diego hargreeves x you #number two #tua #tua season one

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oh-obrien · 4 years ago

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Inscrutable {5}

Inscrutable: Impossible to Understand or Interpret

Relationships: Stiles Stilinski x Original Female Character

Word Count: 6,186 6,485

Warnings: None

Author’s Note: I am back!!! Sorry for the delay I just had a really rough go for a couple weeks. Now, an angsty chapter that may wrap up well before shit starts to go down. Message me or send me an ask to be tagged!!

THIS PART OF INSCRUTABLE HAS BEEN UPDATED WITH MORE CONTENT AND HAS ALSO BEEN EDITED MORE THROUGHLY!

“Beacon Hills is honestly pretty chill right now, man.” Scott shrugged and ran a hand through his messy hair, looking over at Malia for her to confirm his statement. However, Stiles also knew his dad had told Scott to keep everything that had been going on in Beacon Hills on the down low from Stiles, not wanting him more distracted from school than he would be normally. Malia’s hesitant nod only aided in confirming Stiles’ suspicions. “Seriously!” Scott added when he saw Stiles’ gaze narrow. “Me and Derek got it, we’re like, a power couple?” His voice went up a little bit at the end, making it sound like a question. “Yeah, I think that’s the right term!” He just shrugged afterwards, not really caring if his terminology had been correct or not.

Malia rolled her eyes at Scott, “seriously, Stiles,” she started. “We have everything under control here, you and Lydia should just be concerned about college right now.” Stiles took a deep breath and shook his head, about to tell the pair he could see through their lies when his phone started ringing.

He quickly jerked his head over to where his phone sat on his bed and squinted, making sure he read the caller ID right. “Who’s that, bro?” Scott asked after seeing his best friend’s confused look.

“Uhh, Finley,” he said, picking up his phone and answering the call. “Hey, everything okay?” Stiles asked, his tone filled with genuine concern. Stiles knew that Finley had been going to see her dad earlier that morning, and he also knew from what she had said the night before that their relationship was slightly strained at the moment to say the least.

“No. Stiles, I- I need to talk to you.” Her voice cracked towards the end and Stiles’ eyes widened as he looked up to see Scott and Malia watching and listening in confusion. Thank God they couldn’t use their were-hearing to listen in on the phone call, if they could Scott would have even more questions than he already would.

Stiles took in a sharp breath, “okay,” he tried to sound as soothing as possible, now would not be the best time for his anxiety to take over. Well take over noticeably, he already felt himself starting to panic slightly. “Right now, you’re safe though?” He tried to run through questions he knew his dad would as if he received a similar phone call. Stiles heard a small ‘mmhum’ from Finley and let out a sigh of relief. “Do you need me to come get you from somewhere, I can’t drive since I don’t have a car here, but I can come get you.”

“No,” she sniffled. Why would she be crying? “I just think I need to talk to you; can you meet me at my dorm in like an hour and a half?” An hour and a half seemed awfully long when she clearly sounded upset. However, if that’s how long she needed he would agree.

Stiles looked at the clock on his desk and noticed it had already passed noon. The pair had slept in until nearly ten, but he didn’t realize it had already hit noon. By the time he got to her dorm it would be nearly two in the afternoon. “I can do that,” he said, “do you need me to bring anything,”

“No, thank you,” she said quietly. “I’ll see you soon?”

Stiles couldn’t help but smile a little bit, despite how upset she sounded. He watched Scott raise his eyebrow and smirk and Stiles rolled his eyes at his best friend before responding. “I’ll see you soon,” he went to pull the phone away from his face before adding, “call sooner if you need anything.” After hearing an ‘okay’ he said goodbye before hanging up.

Stiles saw Scott and Malia still watching him. “So?” Scott dragged out the word.

“She asked if I could swing by her dorm in an hour and a half,” Stiles looked down at his phone, confused. “She sounded like she was- crying?” He watched Malia’s face morph into confusion while Scott pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, clearly thinking. Which could be dangerous. At least there wasn’t any smoke coming out of his ears this time. Stiles swore it used to happen in school on occasion.

Stiles sank back into his bed even more than he had been before letting out a long sigh, pulling at the ends of his messy hair. “Uhh,” Scott started, “did anything like happen last night that could trigger a reaction like that?” He asked, clearly trying to help Stiles think over possibilities as to why Finley would be crying and want to see him.

“N- no,” Stiles stuttered out trying to think, “she seemed - well she got upset talking about like couples and how she’s never had a boyfriend or even a fling,” he spoke. “I don’t - I really don’t think talking about this would help my anxiety at all right now so, if we can just not focus on that I’d be happy,” Stiles started fidgeting with his fingers.

“Yeah, totally man,” Scott smiled. “So, Chris and my Mom last weekend-”

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

Finley walked into her room and dropped her backpack on her floor, not caring about the new files her father had given her at the office earlier that morning. If they wrinkled in her bag, then so be it. She hadn’t even bothered to ask what they had in them after they had been handed to her. She shoved them into her bag before going off on a ramble about Stiles and how she hated how right everything felt with him. That had been before she got dragged to lunch with her uncle and wound up leaving the restaurant like some type of lunatic though.

Pulling off her wet long sleeve shirt she dropped it in the middle of the floor with a loud, wet plop and sat down on her desk chair to pull off her jeans that stuck to her legs. She knew that her suitemates would still be out to lunch with a few of the guys on the men’s lacrosse team, so she didn’t care about pushing the bathroom door open in only her bra and underwear, both also soaked through.

She pulled her bra and underwear off before looking herself over in the mirror. She still felt chilled to the bone from her walk back to campus in the rain, especially since it had been an unusually cold day. She looked exhausted, like she hadn’t slept in weeks. She let out a long breath of air and poked at the bags under her eyes. She had gotten the best sleep she had in months the night before, but she couldn’t help but feel absolutely exhausted. Talking about her family tended to do that to her though. It would forever be a topic that mentally drained her, no matter who she talked to about it with.

Finley made sure to lock the bathroom door that led into her suitemates’ room, just in case, before starting the shower, turning the handle to as hot as she knew she could tolerate without burning her skin. It would heal over almost immediately, but blistering her skin never tended to feel great. Stepping into the shower and letting the water run over her body, Finley felt her shoulders drop and her clenched jaw loosen, heaps of tension running out of her body and down the drain with the water.

Resting her back against the tile wall of the shower, Finley closed her eyes and tried not to cry, tried to continue to let the water wash away her problems, even if it only lasted a few minutes. She wished that the water could wash away the memories she had of the past year and a half of her life, she wished she could replace them with something new, something better. However, she had accepted the past year months earlier, understanding that she couldn’t change things that had already happened. She also learned that dwelling on the memories would just make the recovery longer, harder; that wasn’t something she wanted to do to herself.

Finally opening her eyes again, Finley went through her shower routine slowly, trying to let water relax her tense body even more. After finishing rinsing any trace of suds out of her hair and off her body, Finley turned the water off before stepping out of the shower and wrapping a fluffy towel around herself, thanking her past self for doing laundry yesterday afternoon. She picked up her soaked bra and underwear before wandering back into her room. Closing her blinds, and setting her soaked undergarments in her hamper, Finley then dropped her towel from around her body and used it to dry off her hair, shivering while the cold air wrapped around her again.

“Hoodie, hoodie, hoodie,” she mumbled to herself while sifting through the things she had hung up in her closet. Finally pulling out one of her old lacrosse hoodies from high school, she threw it on her bed while grabbing clean underwear and a sports bra out of her drawers. After pulling her undergarments and a clean pair of shorts on she plugged in her diffuser and fairy lights before throwing her backpack with the files her dad had given her on her bed. She shrugged on her hoodie and climbed into her bed, taking a moment to compose herself fully.

Finley pulled one of her throw blankets over her lap before dragging her backpack closer and pulled her phone out of its front pocket and noticed calls from her father and uncle. After sending them both a text assuring them that she had gotten back to her dorm fine, she unzipped the largest pocket of her bag, dragging a heft stack of files out and setting them next to herself. She dropped her backpack on her floor with a quiet thud and pushed her glasses further up her nose, reaching over to her desk to grab her bag of highlighters and different colored pens. She needed to talk to Stiles, but until he got to her room, the files would have to serve as an adequate distraction.

She grabbed the first folder and noticed that a few staples had made indents that showed through the cover, turning it to the side she read the label on the tab. ‘J. Whittemore’, had been scrawled across the tab in a red sharpie, the handwriting definitely her father’s. She pulled it open and looked at the profile stapled to the inside, chewing on the inside of her cheek while she did so. She noticed something circled in red and her eyes were instantly drawn to it, the rest of the individual’s profile quickly being forgotten. The words ‘Attended Beacon Hills High School’ were those circled in red, the neat Times New Roman font almost mocking her while she read them over and over again.

Pulling the next file over to herself Finley Again read the identification tab, ‘L. Dunbar’. She again opened the folder and saw the same three words circled. Setting her highlighter down she laid all the files out on top of each other, the identification tabs lining up neatly.

L. Martin.

I. Lahey.

K. Yukimura.

M. Tate.

M. Hewit.

C. Bryant.

E. Steiner.

T. Raeken.

D. Hale. She paused on that file, her teeth pulling a layer of skin off her bottom lip while she chewed on it. Hale wasn’t exactly a common last name, and Finley would have called herself stupid if she wasn’t the least bit suspicious of what exactly lived inside the files. Deciding to look back at the file after she confirmed her suspicions, Finley read the next identification tab.

S. McCall. Most definitely Scott McCall, she knew that without even opening the file.

M. Stilinski. Stiles hadn’t mentioned his father’s first name in any of their meetings, and she had remembered him stating it had just been him and his dad since he had been ten. So, it had to be a file on his father, but why would her dad need one?

Pulling the file out for ‘D. Hale’, before she even opened it, she knew it would be Derek Hale’s. Finley’s Pack had quite the alliance with the Hale’s, both in New York and California before the fire happened, she knew Derek himself quite well as they weren’t all that far apart in age. After the fire in Beacon Hills though, the Mannulv Pack had lost touch with the Hale family who remained in California, although their alliance with the New York Hale’s remained strong.

Finley finally flipped the file open, and the identification photo stared back at her, it definitely was a picture of Derek, a much older Derek than she remembered, but still Derek. He no longer had the baby face that Finley remembered from when they had been younger, his features sharper and stubble covering his face. He had most definitely turned into the ‘handsome young man’, that Finley’s mother said he would years ago. She flipped through his entire file, noticing that much of it would be rather unnoteworthy, just normal facts about his life, his family, the fire. Nothing stuck out to Finley other than a warrant for ‘mass murder’ that had been dismissed.

With the Hale’s having once been the most powerful family in the were-community, and with the Mannulv family also having the same status, Finley had brushed shoulders with all of the Hale children when she had been younger. Cian had once looked up to Derek and always tried to talk to the older boy at weddings and other events that caused the two Packs to mingle, however, after the fire, Derek hadn’t been seen at any inter-pack events.

She opted to push Derek’s file aside and pull forward the one labeled ‘S. McCall’, Scott McCall’s file. Scott’s file was clearly the thickest in the pile, and Finley knew most of it would be information she didn’t need or want. She noted that the only thing that stood out had been the bolded line on his identification page stating that he had the current position of Alpha of the McCall pack, having presented as a True Alpha a few years earlier. Finley smirked and stacked Scott’s file on top of Derek’s. Two True Alpha’s meeting would be quite a rarity, but with Finley’s ability to control her territorial instincts and Scott’s rather limited knowledge on werewolf traditions, the pair would have no problem getting along. The other files that Finley’s father had given her had noted at the top of each first page that the individual was a member of the McCall Pack, but they presented to be a rather unusual mix of supernatural creatures.

After stacking all the remaining files together and setting them aside; Finley found her fingers wrapping around the final file, the file labeled ‘M. Stilinski’. She pulled her bottom lip before opening the folder, a picture of Stiles stapled to the cover and the bolded words, ‘Mieczyslaw “Stiles” Stilinski’, staring back at her. She quickly snapped the file closed before she picked up her phone and scrolled through her contacts. She pressed on her brother’s contact and hit the call button, her anxiety growing with every second that passed. She hadn’t gotten herself so worked up over something so quickly since her grandmother had told her she needed to move out of the main pack house for the ‘good of the family’.

She started to gnaw on her bottom lip even harder while she waited for an answer and groaned out loud when she got his voicemail greeting. “Fucking football,” she locked her phone and threw it on her bed. “Why did he have to be good at football!”

She needed something else to distract her, she needed something else to think about. Adding Stile’s file to the top of the pile she pushed herself off her bed and picked up her backpack. With shaky hands she shoved all of the files into the bag before walking over to her closet. Finley found herself pushing her clothes out of the way so she could get to the back corner. She pressed the bag as far into the corner as it could go, as if it would make the files disappear, and pushed everything back in front of it. She still had to tell Stiles everything, she owed him it. She just had to accept that he already knew more than she thought he did.

Finally, thinking of a distraction, Finley shuffled across her carpet and found herself in front of her wall of pictures. The same one that Stiles had been looking at the day before, admiring even. The thought of someone admiring the pictures of her and her family from the past year made her queasy, if only they all knew what had been going on. She swallowed thickly before looking at some of the pictures. Prom, nationals for her travel lacrosse team, all of her brother’s official college visits, she had plenty of good memories hung up on her wall. She would never deny that the wall had been filled with majority good memories. However, she also tried to hang up things that would make it seem as if she had a normal family life. It all felt fake, like she had put a huge lie up on display for anyone who entered her room to see.

She had so many pictures of her family hung up, so many pictures she had to force herself to smile in, had to force herself to appear happy and healthy for. Pictures of her family in the pack house for birthday’s. Movie nights she had with her cousins before she moved into the guest cabin. She saw a picture of her entire family at the lake on their property for her and Cian’s birthday the previous year. After tearing her eyes away from the wall, Finley actually had to keep herself from getting nauseous at the memory. The twins’ last birthday at home had been a couple of months after they found out Finley had presented as a True Alpha and her grandmother hadn’t wanted to invite her to the party at all that day. She had only planned on throwing a party for Cian and had wanted to let Maxwell handle Finley, the animosity between Finley and her grandmother still too strong. The wounds were still too fresh.

Finley pulled her bottom lip between her teeth again and shuffled over to her desk, opening the top drawer she saw the pack of pushpins she had purchased to hang the photos up sitting right on top. Taking the plastic container between her hands she set it on the heating unit in front of her window, flipping the safety latch and opening it. Without thinking her hands started moving on her wall, pulling colored pushpins out of the corners of various pictures, letting the photos fall to the floor and putting the pushpins back in the right section of the container according to their colors.

Finley had just pulled the last pushpin out of a picture from her sweet sixteen when she heard a knock on the door. She quickly turned on her heel, ignoring the tears she felt quickly gathering in the corners of her eyes, and set her foot flat on to the ground. “Motherfucker!” She felt a push-pin stick into the ball of her foot. Pulling it out she threw it in the garbage can before pausing near her door.

Stiles’ heartbeat sounded fast, too fast to write off as elevated just from him walking over to her dorm from his. He smelled like pure anxiety and nerves, she noticed it seeping under the door causing her face to scrunch up in disgust; anxiety had always been Finley’s least favorite of the emotions to be able to pick up on. It smelled tangy and sour, sometimes people’s anxiety would be so strong she swore she could taste it; like rotten lemons mixed with curdled milk. Putting her hand on the cool metal handle of her door she closed her eyes and felt the lock pop as it opened. There would be no going back now. “Hey, sorry to like,” she looked down at her feet while she opened the door, “do this,” why did she want to cry?

“No!” Stiles cleared his throat, waving his hands in front of himself. “I mean,” he sighed, “don’t be sorry, okay? I wasn’t sure if you were okay when you called and I just wanted to make sure you were,” he stepped into Finley’s dorm when she backed away from the door to let him in. He immediately noticed pictures scattered carelessly across her floor, some face up and some face down. There seemed to be no rhyme or reason as to where they were scatted in the room, and he noticed her wall of photos seemed to be mostly empty compared to yesterday. Did her make her uncomfortable looking at them? Oh god, he hoped not. She didn’t seem to mind then, but what if that had just been her being polite? Stiles took in a deep breath and turned back to Finley who still stood with her door open.

Sighing, Finley closed her door and Stiles watched her pick up a soaked gray hoodie from on her empty desk and she hung it on the hook on the back of her door, a few drops of water falling off the sleeve cuffs. A pair of wet sneakers had been kicked into the corner of her room and a towel hung off the post of her bed. “I just- I got into it with my dad and uncle earlier,” she mumbled, bending down to pick up some of the photos on her carpet. Stiles tried to gauge her mood but couldn’t quite put his thumb on her emotions. Angry. Upset. Hurt. He wasn’t quite sure.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Stiles kneeled to pick up some of the photos Finley hadn’t yet collected, it seemed like a better solution than standing in her room awkwardly waiting for her to speak. He heard her let out a shaky sigh as she stood up, putting the photos in her hand on her bed. Stiles followed her actions and put the photos he had on top of her pile. Finley climbed into her bed and patted the mattress next to her.

Stiles toed off his shoes and left them on the edge of her carpet, momentarily wiggling his sock covered toes into the soft material of her carpet. He shuffled across the carpet and pushed himself up on to Finley’s bed, a dull ache from his first week of lacrosse still pulling at his muscles. He made sure that he left a comfortable distance between them, not wanting to make her uncomfortable, although she had seemed perfectly comfortable with him the night before. “I don’t exactly want to,” he watched her pull her bottom lip between her teeth, “but I feel like we need to. Sooner rather than later,” she added the last part after a small pause.

“Finley, if you’re not com-”

“I’m never going to be comfortable talking about who, or I guess what I am. I’m never going to be comfortable talking about my family,” she saw Stiles open his mouth but cut him off, “but sometimes you have to step outside your comfort zone to set things right in life, Stiles.” She crossed her legs and turned to face him, her lip pulled between her bottom lip and a tight crease formed in her forehead while she started flipping through the photos that sat between them.

Stiles watched her shaky fingers flip through the photos, pausing on some for a few seconds before flipping to the next.

Eventually she settled on one, it pictured a large group of people, and she turned it face down between them. “So,” she looked up at him through the lenses of her glasses, her eyes red from crying and small bags starting to form under them. “I don’t really want to scare you away or anything, but uhh my family is kind of umm,” she trailed off, “unique.”

“Unless your family is running some super-secret and super fucked up cult I don’t think you can scare me away,” he laughed to try and lighten the mood. “You don’t know a lot about Beacon Hills,” he added to the end.

He watched Finley’s eyes widen before she let out a long sigh, “actually,” she said the word so quietly Stiles almost didn’t hear it. Did her family really run a super-secret, fucked up cult? “Y’know how my dad works for the CIA?” Stiles nodded slowly, wondering where Finley could possibly be taking the conversation. “Well, as you’ll find out one day. A lot of ‘conspiracy theories’ are true, and a lot of the time, the CIA is working on these things that people will tout as not possible, but you knew that already.”

“Okay,” Stiles dragged the word out, unsure where the conversation would head next. Hopefully it didn’t hang a left down Psycho Lane. “Like aliens being real or the concept that the world is really run by a singular governmental unit?” He offered two of the theories he knew were tossed around the internet quite often. Once he noticed a small smile pulled at the corner of Finley’s lips, he knew he had slightly diffused the tension in the room for a moment.

“Well,” she swallowed. “I can tell you I know who Scott McCall is, and I know Derek Hale uhh personally-” she trailed off for a few seconds. “And I know all about Scott’s Pack, your Pack” she flipped over the photo, Stiles’ heart beating even faster. “And I know that this is my Pack,” Stiles scanned the picture over, “well some of my Pack, that’s my immediate family.” There were probably about twenty people gathered around a lake, all squished very close together and smiling brightly. All except for Finley. She had a wide smile in the picture, but it wasn’t genuine. She didn’t have the usual dimples she would get when she actually smiled, and it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

Finley pulled a few more pictures out of the pile and laid them out “I know that my dad and his four brothers are weres, that my grandma gave my grandpa the bite right before they got married.” She pointed to a picture of six individuals in front of the same lake, parents and four young boys all squished close together in it. They all looked strikingly similar, even for siblings.

“Who’s who?” Stiles found himself asking, leaning closer to Finley so he could see the picture better. He heard Finley take in a deep breath before she pulled another picture out of the pile. It pictured her in a short red cupcake dress that seemed to be covered in crystals, four men gathered around her and a wide smile on all of their faces.

“Obviously,” she pointed to the man to her left, “that’s my dad. That’s my uncle Cayden,” she pointed to the man on her right, “next to my dad is Jordan and then next to Cayden is Todd.” She let out a quiet sigh before tucking the picture back into the pile. Stiles just nodded slowly, processing all the information.

A comfortable silence fell between the two while Finley flipped through pictures again, picking out another before she started talking. “I can tell you that most of my cousins are also weres and so are their kids,” she handed him a picture of her and Cian laying on the floor under a pile of younger kids. He saw adults laughing in the background and assumed those were the younger kids’ parents. There were so many kids in the photo, he had counted a baker’s dozen, that he wasn’t quite sure how anyone could handle them, but then again werewolf packs tended to share the child rearing duties. Stiles had done extensive research when Scott had first been turned, so he knew much more than he would usually admit.

“And the pups are absolutely adorable when they chase you around full shift, like little puppies just learning to walk,” she flashed Stiles a picture of two wolf pups, her younger cousins, and even when they puppy pile you on the floor they’re kind of cute.” He saw a fond smile grace her face, obviously attached to the younger kids in her family. “I took care of them pretty often, I mean when my grandma still trusted me,” her smile faded.

She grabbed a picture of her and Cian together, laying out in the middle of a large field, the almost full moon bright in the sky above them. “I can also tell you that Cian and I also happen to be weres ourselves, even though my mom never took the bite from my grandma, our Alpha.”

Finley looked up to Stiles when she finished speaking, her hands shaking much less and her anxiety decreasing with each breath she took. She noticed that Stiles’ heart still beat unusually fast, but he didn’t smell like anxiety anymore. His scent had returned to the one she had found comfort in the day before, he smelled warm and welcoming, she wanted to roll in that scent and never forget it. “So,” Stiles trialed off, picking up the photo of her family and looking it over. “You’re like all born wolves?” He asked.

Finley laughed lightly when he didn’t freak out, knowing she definitely wanted to keep him around now. “For the most part,” she let out a long sigh, “a couple of my aunts took the bite from my grandma and others didn’t.” She started flipping through pictures again. “But that’s my pack. That’s more of what a typical pack would look like, if you compare it to Scott’s obviously.” She watched Stiles set down the photo and he turned to face her. “And I totally understand if you want to like, not talk other than for the project just that had been eating away at me for a few weeks. Especially with Scott coming to visit soon, I didn’t want you to find out then because once we met it would be a dead giveaway. I just needed to tell you, it felt wrong not to, especially when you already know about our little world.”

Finley watched Stiles sink further back into her mattress while he shook his head, “I’ll stay,” he offered a smile, “as long as you get me that magic heating pad again?” Finley laughed and nodded, pushing herself off the bed and grabbing the heating pad from where she had left it on her floor that morning. She plugged it into her extension cord and handed it to Stiles before climbing back into her bed.

“Y’know, if you want me to like, take away the pain I’m able to do that right?” She offered. She saw Stiles’ eyes widen and he adjusted the heating pad on his back. His heartbeat had slowed down some, but it wasn’t quite at a normal resting rate yet, she assumed his discomfort contributed slightly. Finley assumed that his heart beating slightly father though would probably be normal, considering he had just found out he never really would be escaping the supernatural that he lived with in Beacon Hills.

He closed his eyes and knotted his fingers together on his stomach, a sated smile on his face. “So, all of you are able to do that?” Finely crawled closer and let out a quiet hum in acknowledgement.

“Some are better at it than others though,” she set her left hand over his that were clasped together, she felt her wolf dying to get even closer to Stiles in the back of her mind but pushed it away. “I learned really fast,” she watched Stiles’ pain climb up her arm and watched it fade under the rolled-up sleeve of her hoodie. “Took my brother a lot longer to learn that it took me.” Once she saw Stiles relax fully into her mattress and noticed his heart rate seemed normal again, she moved her hand off his despite her wolf trying to push her to be even closer to him still.

Stiles opened one of his eyes to look at her, watching her crawl off her bed with her photos in hand. A comfortable silence fell between the pair and Stiles watched Finley slide a drawer on her one desk open. He noticed that Finley would look at each photo before she would place it inside the drawer, pausing longer on some than others. “So,” he opened both his eyes now and watched her closely, “why’d you take them all down?” He watched her pause for a second, bending the corner of the photo currently on top.

“Complicated family dynamics,” she dumped the rest of the photos into the drawer without looking at any and closed it. “I uhh-” Finley sighed. “I don’t get along too well with some people in my family,” she shrugged and crawled into her bed again, lifting the blanket so she could slide her legs under it.

Stiles sat up and lifted his side of her comforter, sliding underneath himself before settling the heating pad on his lower back again. He wasn’t in pain anymore, but the heat brought him a strange sense of comfort. “Like cousins or?”

“Damn, digging deep already,” Finley let out a quiet laugh that Stiles barely heard while she grabbed an extra pillow to lean against. “Well, you know how pack dynamics work somewhat, I’m sure,” she looked over to Stiles and he just nodded.

“Alphas and Betas and all that,” he added, hoping to ease Finley’s nerves slightly. “Scott’s an Alpha, Liam’s his Beta.”

“Scott’s a True Alpha,” Finley quickly corrected him. “Pretty rare if you want the facts about it,” she pulled at the loose strings of her comforter that covered her lap. Stiles could tell she wanted to tell him something but couldn’t find the words to say whatever it was, but he wouldn’t push her into territory she would be uncomfortable in. “Most packs don’t work that way, a true Alpha turning a Beta and so on, most are pretty structured. Throw in a True Alpha and forget it,” she snapped her fingers, “pack order and unity gone.”

Stiles sat up and decided to lean against the wall next to Finley, their legs close enough to touch if either decided to move even a fraction of an inch. Stiles felt oddly drawn to Finley, the night before had been the best he slept since moving into American. With Finley so close to him again he felt strangely safe, comfortable, and relaxed. “So, most packs work like the Hale’s did?” He asked, watching Finley’s reactions. He noticed her stiffen slightly before nodding.

“My Pack is a lot older than the Hale Pack, but similar enough,” she replied. “My grandma, my dad’s mom, is the Alpha right now, her dad before her was the Alpha but he didn’t have any sons, so his daughter took over when he was ready to transfer his power.” She shifted closer to Stiles and felt her leg bump into his, she waited for him to move away, but he didn’t. She let the warmth from his body calm her wolf slightly and let out a long sigh. “So, by tradition my grandma’s oldest son would take the pack after she passed,” Finley trailed off.

Stiles turned his head so he could see her better, “but?” he asked curiously, knowing there would be a but based on Finley’s body language and tone.

“But that position isn’t up for grabs really anymore,” she quickly pulled her legs up to her chest, wrapping her arms around her legs and resting her chin on her knees. “When a pack that already has an Alpha also has a True Alpha in it, that True Alpha will take the Alpha’s position when they pass or decide to pass on their powers,” Stiles watched her close her eyes and take a deep breath in, a few tears gathering at the corner of her eyes.

Without really thinking, Stiles wrapped his arm around Finley’s shoulders, pulling her into his side. Her head fell on to his shoulder and he hear her stifle a laugh, “we don’t have to keep talking about this y’know?”

“No, it’s fine. I’m fine,” she reached up to grab his hand that hunger over her shoulder. Stiles watched as she started to absentmindedly play with his fingers before she started speaking again, “so when I presented as a True Alpha before I turned seventeen,” she trailed off for a moment. “It kind of caused some complications in the family, but everyone got over it but my grandma.”

Stiles just nodded along, still watching Finley play with his fingers while she thought, the silence between the two a comfortable one. “Really?” he asked after the silence had been stretched out longer, “she knows who’s next in line, she can help you learn,” he added.

Finley let out a mix between a snort and a laugh and turned so she could see him better. “Wow, someone else here thinks logically,” she rested her head on his shoulder, resuming playing with his fingers. “I’ve tried to explain that to her y’know? She didn’t get it though.”

“It’s the most logical explanation!” Stiles stated matter-of-factly, “how could she not understand that?” He shook his head. “I thought that Alpha’s were supposed to be smart, but Scott is obviously another exception to that rule.”

Finley just laughed quietly as Stiles talked, “I really need to keep you around now,” she mumbled.

“Oh, I wasn’t planning on going anywhere,” Stiles placed a kiss to the top of Finley’s head, the action feeling natural. “It may not have been what I expected, but I’ve adjusted before and I can adjust again,” he rested his chin on the top of Finley’s head, a comfortable slice falling around them again.

Finley felt herself let out a happy rumble, deep from within her chest, something that hadn’t happened in over a year. She knew Stiles would be staying now and it had settled her wolf, something no one had been able to do since the day she presented as a True Alpha. They would most definitely need to have the ‘mates talk’ sooner rather than later, but for now Finley finally felt content and happy. She deserved to bask in the feeling for a little while, she really deserved it.Tagging those who have expressed interest: @stixnstripesworld @kellysashcroft

#stiles stilinski #stiles stilinski imagine #stiles stilinski fanfiction #dylan o'brien #dylan obrien #dylan o'brien imagine #dylan obrien imagine #anna writes #inscrutable fic #stiles stilinski x oc #teen wolf #teen wolf fanfiction #teen wolf imagine #WEREWOLF OFC #werewolf character #HUMAN STILES

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 5 years ago

Text

Happy Together : 11

Lost and Found

Character(s): (deceptively) dark!Steve

Warnings: this is a dark!fic, it contains non/dubious-consent elements. It goes without (and with) saying that this is 18+.

Series Synopsis: The reader is stood up while awaiting a blind date, instead finding herself keeping company with the restaurant’s famous owner; Steve Rogers. After that night, she tries to forget her humiliation but she just can’t shake one thing about that night: him.

Masterlist

Chapter Summary: The reader grows desperate.

Notes: Okay so here’s the next part. I feel like everything’s starting to ramp up and I’m working on the next part already. Hopefully I can get it done for next week as usual but we’ll see. With that being said, I can’t wait for you all to read and of course, enjoy this wild ride with me!

Thanks to everyone who reads and as always, I looked forward to hearing from you in the replies/reblogs/tags/asks. <3

Steve left for work as usual and you stared at the door as it closed behind him. You waited ten minutes before moving. You felt like he could hear you sneaking around even though he was gone. Right? He was truly gone. You'd hate to be caught in the act. The thought terrified you. You had one shot at this and if you failed, you knew there'd not be another chance.

You went to the laundry room and took out the screwdriver. You examined its end and inhaled. You weren't even sure if this would work. You had worn your lowest heels and a dress with short sleeves; the loosest among the bunch; buttons up the front and a thin belt at its waist. If you could get free, you hoped you’d not look like a mad lady plucked out of wartime. And you’d have to be able to run if the worst occurred.

You returned to the kitchen and pulled back the curtains of the broken screen. You braced yourself and shakily raised the screwdriver. This was it. Once you started, you couldn’t stop. You had to keep going no matter what. Should Steve catch you, you didn’t even want to imagine what he would do. You lined up the flat head with the edge of the screen and pushed between it and the wooden frame. It warped the LED as you pressed deep, running the screwdriver the length of the artificial window.

You cranked the handle and the screen curved until it finally popped out, the cracks along its surface spread. You caught it before it could land on you and lowered it along the wall to the floor. You looked up to the concrete hidden behind it and swore. Well, that was a waste. You placed your palm flat where the window had been. You must be underground.

You kicked the screen and it folded in half as it crumpled to the floor. You stomped it in frustration and gripped the screwdriver. You’d just have to take the obvious way out. You huffed and marched into the dining room and through the hallway which connected it to the den. You turned to the door at the end of the hall; the same one Steve left through everyday. You froze and glanced at the tool in your hand. Could you break the lock that easily?

You marched to it and your heart pounded in your ears. You slid the flathead in the small crease between door and frame. You pulled it down until you met the bolt, wiggling between the wood as you tried to carve out enough to free the lock. Twenty, maybe thirty, minutes and the door hadn’t budged. Slivers shaved off to pile at your feet. You grunted in frustration and pulled the slightly curved screwdriver out. God dammit!

You turned the tool in your hand and slammed it against the handle in exasperation. The reverberation jolted your arm painfully and you hissed. You held your wrist and looked at the knob. You blinked and reached out to touch it. It shifted just slightly. You gulped and braced the screwdriver in both hands and raised your arms above your head. You slammed down into the handle again and you heard a snap. You did it again and again until it fell loose and hung perilously from the door.

Your hands were shaking, bruises forming on the sides from the force of your struggle. You tucked the screwdriver into your belt and pulled the knob free from the hole. You tossed it aside as you breathed heavily and the door slowly opened. You could have laughed in glee but you weren’t free yet.

On the other side of the door, a tall flight of stairs led upward. You climbed, two at a time, almost slipping in your kitten heels. You drew yourself up by the railing and stopped before the door at the top of the steps. You peered behind you down the tunnel and gripped the long handle along the metal barrier. You took the screwdriver from your waist as your thumb pushed down on the lever. To your surprise, it suppressed all the way. The door opened without a dozen whacks from your flathead and you nearly fell out the other side.

You stepped down onto the tarmac and nearly stumbled as you let go of the door. The metal clanged shut behind you and you turned to look at it. There was only a keyhole in its face and it sat inconspicuously in the wall of a parking garage. All around you were vehicles and spray paint outlines. Your prison was hidden just beneath the urban jungle and you would’ve never known it.

You dropped the screwdriver as you spun back to the airy lot, the sounds of traffic leaked in through the open pillars. You started to walk away from the door, weaving between cars as you found the ramp that led out onto the street. You broke into a run as you smelled the city air and a hint of the sky peeked back at you between buildings. New York! You never thought you would miss it so much.

You jogged down the street in your heels, your ankles almost twisting with each step as you passed by unfazed pedestrians. In this city, it was never unusual to see one racing down the sidewalk; even more usual for them to look entirely crazy. You stopped at the first corner as you realized where you were. You turned back and pressed yourself to the wall.

Had you continued on, you would’ve passed right by the window of Spice. The same restaurant in which you had first met Steve. You were certain he was there right now. You glanced around and dashed across the street. You barreled down onto the next as your heels clacked against the pavement. Your lungs burned and your heart leapt as you spotted the familiar uniform of the city blues. An officer stood just outside a Starbucks, sipping on a freshly brewed coffee.

“Officer!” You called out frantically as you neared him, “Officer, please.”

He turned to you in surprise, his free hand slipped to his hip. “Ma’am, slow down.” He warned and you skidded to a stop just before you collided with him. “Just right there. Stay as you are.” He crossed to his cruiser and set his cup on the roof as his other hand rested on his belt. “You got I.D.?”

“I.D.?” You echoed in confusion. “I need help.”

“Mmhmm,” He eyed you suspiciously. You realized you must’ve looked like any other lunatic on the street harassing the police and other New Yorkers. “I.D.”

“I don’t...have it,” You felt the air rush from you, “But I...I need to file a report. You need to help me, please. He’s going to come looking for me.”

“Who?” The officer asked.

“I--I…” You glanced around at the few onlookers who were gathering to watch your frantic ramblings.

“Ma’am, I think it’s best you carry on before I have to arrest you for disturbing the peace.” He threatened and his hand moved to the cuffs just beside his holster. “Do you understand me?”

“Arrest me?” You repeated and chewed your lip. Even if the officer wasn’t going to protect you, a jail cell would be a shield in itself. How could Steve ever get to you if you were guarded by New York’s best? “Do it!” You raised your voice, “Officer, please! You don’t understand.” You tried to sound just a little more nutty “You have to save me from him. He locked me up and--”

“This is your final warning, ma’am, please go,” The officer bristled.

“No, I won’t. I need your help,” You stepped closer and he reacted in an instant.

He freed his cuffs from his waist and quickly spun you against his car. You looked up at those who had stopped to watch the scene and lowered your chin. You hid a smile as your wrists were bound and the officer grumbled under his breath. “This fucking city.”

He opened his back door and shoved you inside. You eagerly pulled your feet into the car and sat back with a sigh as he slammed the door closed. He grabbed his cup from atop the cruiser and got in the driver seat. “I just wanted a goddamn coffee,” He growled as he started his engine, “No such thing as peace around here, is there?” He looked at you in the rear view mirror, “What loony bin did you find your way out of anyway?”

At the station, the process took more than two hours; fingerprints, mug shot, paperwork. You were finally shuffled into a cell. It was more commonly known as the drunk tank. Those being held until they sobered up lined the bench along the wall while others just sprawled across the floor. Even if you were surrounded by smelly inebriates, it was better than your former prison.

You stood at the bars as police milled around like ants. As time ticked by, you grew more anxious. Steve would come home to an empty house and two broken doors. He'd be quick to go looking, you had no doubt of that. If he found you here, you'd be safe behind bars for the time being but what about when you were released? You didn't think he'd give up so easily. Surely he'd be waiting for you.

"Officer," You called as another police passed by. You called several times before any responded, too encumbered in more serious criminals than lunatics off the street. "Please, I need to report a crime."

A female officer paused and turned impatiently to the cell. "What? Are the voices threatening you?"

"No, no, there's been a misunderstanding. Please, I was only trying to escape, I mean…" You hung your head as you realized how crazy you sounded. "I have a right to file a report, don't I?"

She stared at you and rolled her shoulders. "If I take you to file a report, will you stop?"

"Yes, yes," You clung to the bars.

"And you understand a report is just a piece of paper, right?" She approached the cell. "There's only so much we can do after the fact."

"I'm not crazy," You said lowly and looked into her eyes, "I swear. I know I seem it but I'm not."

She considered you a second and took the keys from her waist. "Twenty minutes in a room. That's all you'll get."

"Thank you," You stood back as she opened the door and ushered you out.

She cuffed you before walking you down the hall and showed you into a thickly walled room, a wide window looked into the hallway. "Let me grab some forms and I'll be back. Don't try anything."

You nodded and eagerly sat, hands folded atop the table. If you could convince them, they could help. Even Steve Rogers wasn't above the law. Surely your absence for the last week and a half would raise suspicion. And the little bunker they would find under the parking garage was proof enough. It wasn't too far either. You might just beat Steve there if they acted quickly.

The officer returned and grumbled as she sat across from you. Her short blonde hair had dark roots and traces of silver. Her square jaw gave her an inherent look of disapproval as she opened a file and turned her attention to you. She tapped her round fingernails on the table and leaned back.

“What’s with the clothes?” She asked pointedly.

“The clothes?” You looked down at the dated dress and shook your head. “They’re clothes. I mean...it’s much more than just clothes.”

“Mmmhmm,” She slid forward in her seat and her eyes grazed over the slanted writing before her. “Officer Gowon reports that you approached him in an ‘aggressive manner’ on the street. You could not present identification and you claimed that you needed help and referred to a man ‘coming for you’.”

“He took it. When he took me. All my stuff; my phone, my wallet, my clothes.” You stopped yourself and placed your hands flat on the table. “Please, didn’t you look up my name? I’ve been gone for almost ten days...maybe more. I’m not sure.”

“Ma’am, I need you to answer honestly,” She pushed aside the report at the top of the pile. “Have you ever sought professional help for your mental health?”

“I…” You frowned and clasped your hands together, the cuffs jingled noisily. “I have. Ten years ago for depression. I had just started university and was struggling with the workload...I don’t see how that’s relevant.”

“And you’ve not experienced any relapse in the time since?” She asked sternly.

“I go to counseling but my mental health is under control,” You swallowed. Her eyes, her tone, her sneer, they were filled with accusation. “Look, you have to believe me. Ten days ago I went for a jog and I never came home. Steve Rogers kidnapped me and held me in a bunker under some garage. I can show you where it is. Please, just let me show you.”

“Steve Rogers?” Her dark brows shot up and she grinned, “Okay, Ma’am.”

“I swear, it was him. Give me a map and I can mark where he kept me.” You urged desperately. “You’ll see. Just let me show you.”

“Alright, I think we’re done,” She closed the file with a slap and stood. “You will stay here while I look into your ‘story’.”

You sighed as she walked around the table. You could tell she didn’t believe you. If you were lucky, they would just let you go and issue a fine for your public misbehaviour. If they weren’t going to help you, you’d just have to help yourself. Disappear, if you could.

You sat in the room for about thirty minutes. Your impatience grew along with your anxiety. Why couldn’t they just release you on the promise of a court date? Tandi had been arrested once for drunkenly arguing with an officer and was released the moment she sobered up. You had merely asked for salvation and received a life sentence.

You rocked in your chair nervously, shadows moved through the broad window behind you. You turned and peered through the glass. The blonde officer and the one who had arrested you stood in a triangle with another man. His broad back and golden hair assured you of his identity. You didn’t need Steve Rogers to turn around to recognize him, but he did.

He looked through the window as Officer Gowon pointed through it. His blue eyes darkened as they met yours and your heart dropped. His lips were drawn in a straight line as his jaw squared and he glanced at the female officer as she spoke. His facade resumed as he smiled and nodded; a wave of his hand in feigned indifference.

Gowon approached the door and your heart clutched. Steve followed him and the second officer was not far behind. The handle clicked and slowly twisted. Time seemed to warp as you watched the door swing inward and all three entered. You stood and braced yourself on the table.

“No,” You whispered weakly as your legs wobbled beneath you.

“Honey, it’s okay,” Steve’s voice chilled you as much as his words. “I’m here now.”

tags: @brigidwolf @ruff-m3rc @alexakeyloveloki @lanabanana-86 @sathlens @jessieray98 @lilithhellfire @kellyn1604 @ahideousthinginside @ironlady1993 @kloe-iel @grayxswan @iheartsebastianstan @myboyfriendgiriboy @tanelle83 @patzammit @phoenix21love @they-call-me-le @spaghettirogers @buckycaptspideypool @bethanyzed @biasedtittes @bbyspiiice @thoughtlesstales @glitterypinkkitty @selinbaskaya @vitamingrant @dil-emmuh @metalarmlover @queenoftheunderdark @lilly-evans-and-the-kpop @captainfreecandyvan @collette04 @yagurlrosie @blackpantherimagines @kweenkxtrina @heavenlyblyss @secretlyactivated @roses-and-absinthe @xxxelettaxxx @rainbowkisses31 @celestiial-angel @alphabloodfur @xdatbitch @quant-um-fizzx @peaceloveyesh @bodhi-black @captainarp @booklover240 @kawaiiloverofanimu @everything-is-awesomesauce @holylulusworld @lemonnggrab @kiwihoee @aekr @infernalbarnes @twizzziee @karabear0091 @marvelmaree @amelia-acero @marveltookovermylife @praziameia @steadypetty @spn-marvel-nerd @kissedbythedarkness @broadway-or-noway @marvel-fan23 @hannahxem @noteyebox @breezy1415 @beautiful-and-strange @momc95 @buckycaptspideypool @justballoonfishthings @ms-munchkin @whosmarisaaarw @kxllyxnnx @calspixie @imdiegohargreeves @satinprincessxo @amethyst-the-thot @docharleythegeekqueen @iiqueer-vibesii @carol-damn-vers @l0rd-disick @jilldsumner @hufflebucky @nerdypinupcrystal @pink1031 @agent-spidey @wassupbitchesssss @lucifersnipnips @thirstyforsomeyandere @xxm3xxj @stuckybarton @heartbeats-wildly @tea-with-seb @the-lululemon @abesottedlass @poppyshawn @obsesseds-world @jazztherebel @heartislubbingdubbing @couldntbedamned @desir-ae @adreamemporium @ashrod98 @buckyxwintersxldier @buckybarneshairpullingkink @lazinessisalliknow @kastheabsolutepessimist @daggersofloki @odinson-barnes @lazinessisalliknow @steadypetty @wintersoldier1017 @fandomkolors @supernaturaldean67 @biba3434 @brokensunflowersworld @marvel-fan23 @basementcafe @imkloeyjarvis @periodtcevans @praziameia

#happy together #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #dark!steve rogers x reader #dark steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #captain america #mcu #marvel #fic #series #au #dark!fic #dark fic #dark!verse #dark verse

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itsanerdlife · 5 years ago

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Everything You Want 17/18

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Warning: Lies. Fuck ton of lies. So many lies. Lots of secrets. So many fucking secrets. Language. Violence. Slow Burn. Lots of fighting. Heartbreak. Death threats. Kidnapping. Murder.

Someone is coming for you and your son, Anthony. Too many secrets and too many enemies for you to count. You got out, for reasons. Secret reasons, only Clint Barton knows. Or so you think? Clint takes you back to the safest place there is, Avengers Tower. But how are you supposed to face Peter? Keep your secrets in check? Keep your feelings under wraps? It’s been almost two years, can you really keep it together? You just need to put an end to whoever wants you. Than walk away, like everything is the same, right? Or will you be the one surprised? Everything blows up, leaving you holding the shreds of your secrets and fear.

Tag List Is Open!!

One of them has you by the back of the flannel, shoving you through the door of an abandon building. What looked to be an old bar, perhaps. You plant your feet on the old wood floor, refusing to go any farther. Your hands zip tied in front of you still.

The man shoves a little harder on you. Your elbow slams back, connecting with his nose. He tips forward, your connected hands smash down on his back, dropping him to the floor face down. You stomp down on his back as he cries out, your head tips.

“Ruptured disk? Fractured spine?” You smirk. “You’re going to need a hospital.” You shrug.

“My, my, the girl I’ve heard so much about.” A voice chuckles from somewhere farther in the building, covered in shadows.

“Apparently not enough.” You smirk, turning to face the voice. “You seriously underestimated me.” You shrug.

“See, that is my bad.” His voice humorous as he steps out of the shadows. Harry Osborn, looking a little more like an escaped mental patient than the pretty rich boy you knew from college. The boy Peter Parker had introduced you to as his best friend. “The girl I knew, she was just a pretty girl in a couple of classes, that my best friend and I would drool over.” He shrugs, a slightly psychotic grin on his lips. The hair on the back of your neck stands.

“Well you aren’t the pretty rich boy, who used to stare at my ass.” You shrug. “Guess people change.” This makes him laugh.

“But see you were always this. Secretly running around with Spider-Man,” he spits the word “saving the world. Taking what you fucking wanted and not caring about who died.” He growls, his features shifting into something darker, scarier, more unstable.

“I had nothing to do with your father and Peter.” You lift your chin.

“Ah but see.” He wags his finger with the psychotic grin once more. “You are the woman, Peter Parker loves.” His hands come out, waving looking more like a mentally unstable clown. “Little you, picked Parker. Of course you did. Peter gets everything.” Harry smirks, he begins pacing.

“He does?” Your head tips.

“The good life, the adoring father figure of Tony Stark.” He points out.

“I’m not sure you know Tony very well.” You shrug.

“The perfect, accident making him Spider-Man!” He cheers loudly. Oh fuck you were trapped in a building, in god knows where, with your own version of the damn Joker. You groan inwardly. “He got the girl. Oh and so much more.” He grins at you. You repress the shiver of fear that licks it’s way down your spine.

“More?” You ask, some how your voice manages to stay steady.

“That, bouncing, baby, boy.” He perks up, clapping between each word. “Little baby Parker.” He chuckles. “He got everything.” His grin drops, humor gone. Replaced with pure hate and darkness.

“He doesn’t even know about my son.” You lie.

Harry’s head tips, something cold and disturbed in his eyes. You take a repulsed step back, wondering if you could make a run for it. A hand lands on your shoulder, gripping tightly, making you wince. Apparently you weren’t exactly alone with the mental Harry, he had more than the three who grabbed you.

“But does he?” Harry wonders. Your mouth opens, but he cuts you off. “He’s a smart guy. Excels at math, science.” Harry nods, talking more to himself. Your head tips slowly to one side as you watch him slowly unravel. “He would have put it together. Age, birth date, it would all add up. He has to have put it together. You were in love.” He sighs, in a mushy, romantic type of way, before he laughs like a lunatic.

“But we weren’t Harry. I never knew Peter loved me.” You point out. Harry stiffens at this thought.

“He never told you?” He wonders.

“We were sneaking around. Just friends with benefits.” You shrug. “I wasn’t just sleeping with Peter.” You lie.

“But the baby.” He watches you. “He looks like Peter.” He points out. You shrug, but don’t speak. If he’s as unstable as he seems this was going to send him down the rabbit hole. Harry starts pacing again, a little quicker this time. “Ah, but Peter. He would know. He put it together. He had too.” He pauses looking at you, before he continues. “Mmm but she lies, trained to lie. Peter’s weak, his love makes him blind.” Harry nods, grinning. He rambles on, talking with his hands. “He wouldn’t know but he would know.” Harry nods. “He would know, he might not know, know, but he knows.” You were even starting to get lost trying to follow the rant. The guy holding you looks lost as well when you look over at him.

“Harry.” You smirk as he stops rambling looking over at you. “What if Peter isn’t the father?” You ask.

“But he is.” He grins.

“Peter wasn’t the only one I was sleeping with. I had a thing for brown hair and brown eyes.” You shrug one shoulder. “I never did a DNA test, anything is possible.” You point out.

“NO!” He bellows, you smirk. “No, no, no.” He begins pacing, ranting to himself again. “He’s the father. He is. Peter always gets everything. The family, I never got. The girl, I wanted.” Your head tips surprised by this. “The baby. Peter always gets what he wants.” Harry stomps his foot, suddenly bursting with anger. “But not anymore.” Harry turns slowly, that cold, psychotic grin spreads across his lips as his eyes land on you.

“Harry.” You swallow.

“He’s the reason the only one I loved is dead.” He chuckles, it makes your stomach flip. “I’ve waited a long time for payback.” Cold, unstable humor in his eyes. You smirk back, slipping the zip band holding your wrists. Harry looks startled. Your body turns, slamming your knee into the man’s gut, he stoops. You ram your knee into his nose, dropping him to the ground. You turn back to Harry, who’s looking nervous.

“Two can play that game, Harry Osborn.” You grin when Harry looks almost confused. “You’re the reason Peter Parker broke my heart.” You slip the flannel off, stepping over the body. “You’re the reason I had to have my son in secret.” You move slowly towards him. “I gave up my family, the man I love, loved someone else in front of me, I went into hiding. Because of you and your fucked up, crazy father.” You point at his chest. “Payback is a bitch and Harry, I’m a monster. Not some sweet girl from your class.” You grin.

“How did you end up with Peter?” Harry grins, there’s excitement in his face now.

“Do you really not know him? He’s not so sweet. I like the monster in him, the one he doesn’t show often.” A cocky smirk on your lips.

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

Everything Peaches 2/6/19: @xmtd5 @mo320 @all1e23 @courtmr @avxgers @eliza-kat @izzy--lee @irepeldirt @dumblani @crist1216 @a--1--1--3 @alyssaj23 @allyp1023 @joannie95 @nishanki1 @bugalouie @kolakube9 @rileyloves5 @sarahp879 @sea040561 @sexyvixen7 @pcterpvrker @pigwidgexn @doctoranon @tomhardy41 @abschaffer2 @justrae9903 @tony-stank3 @bookluver01 @teller258316 @callie-bear15 @nickimarie94 @wandressfox @amandab-ftw @carostar2020 @henrietteoaks @nea90sweetie @amberkay284 @circusofchaos @itsagalaxystar @bettercallsabs @miraclesoflove @lucifersnipnips @queenkrissy11 @elite4cekalyma @this-is-mycrisis @sadyoungadult @destiel-artemis @xrosegoldwolfx

@paintballkid711 @isabelcrichards @iwillbeinmynest @sweet-honey15 @chanelmadrid13 @mellxander1993 @killerbumblebee @spookygrantaire @geeksareunique @supernatural508 @sammysgirl1997 @itzmegaaaaaaan @booksbeforebois @optimistic-babes @childishhoebinoo @elizabethaellison @aspiringtranslator @mariekoukie6661 @pure-princess-97 @capsheadquaters @samanthasmileys @nerdypinupcrystal @atlas-of-the-world @youclickedthislink @futuremrsb-r-main @lovemarvelousfics @notyourtypicalrose @petersunderoos96 @loving-life-my-way @buckystolemyheart @booktvmoviefangirl @supernatural-girl97 @thefridgeismybestie @dumbbitchenergytm @abbypalmer14-blog @fanfictionjunkie1112 @meganlikesfandoms @awkwardfangirl2014 @supernaturaldean67 @xqueenofthecraziesx @queenoftheunderdark @writingaworldofmyown @shann-the-artist-moon @supernaturallover2002 @daughterofthenight117 @mustbeaweasleyginger @mcuwillbethedeathofme @sprinklesandsugarcubes @whothehellisbucky-1930 @verymuchclosetedfangirl @for-the-love-of-the-fandom @ocaptain-mycaptainmorgan @wonderlandfandomkingdom @crazy-little-thing-called-buck @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @stupendoussciencenaturepanda @jamesbarnesappreciationsociety @supernatural-strangerthings-1980

Marvel Tag List 2/6/19: @lumelgy @dottirose @jcc04220 @rockagurl @mizzzpink @jade-taillia @coley0823 @widowsfics @bookluver01 @thelostallycat @shield-agent78 @dtftheavengers @ilovetvshowsblog @iamwarrenspeace @thefridgeismybestie @whenallsaidanddone @deanwinchestersrifle @fandomsstolemylife00 @daughterofthenight117 @lilmissperfectlyimperfect

Peter ‘Fuck Me I’m Weak’ Parker: @ml7010 @ariminiria @dkpink123 @boltsgirl919 @quokkatrash @everthenerd @ms-rogers06 @crayonwriting @baebeepeach @bellamouse16 @honey-bee-holly @messofamasterpiece @britkane-shsl-librarian @kiss-the-stars-goodbye

Everything You Want: @gabile18 @kriswu46 @starkbelova @garbage-bitch @bellewithbooks

@little-dr-cranberry @tom-hollands-blog @simply-sams-things @misswritingintherain @hitoshi-s-stupid-bitch @verymuchclosetedfangirl

#Marvel #Peter Parker x Reader #Avengers #Peter x Reader #Everything You Want #Marvel Fanfiction #Peter Parker Series #Avengers Fanfiction #Spider-Man Series

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oskea93 · 5 years ago

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Think of You: Part 9

Warning: Language. Nikki and Caroline angst, Tom and Caroline cuteness

A/N: ENJOY!

** LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED**

___________________________________________________________

I hadn’t heard from Nikki in three weeks.

I tried to keep myself busy with work, trying not to think about why he hasn’t called or even came over to see me. I can’t tell you how many times I had dialed his number, only to hang up right after the first ring. The phone of course worked both ways. He could have called me just to see how I was doing. I thought about going over to the apartment he shared with Tommy. I would talk myself into doing it but quickly chicken out before I could leave. I guess you could say I was being as stubborn as he was. I could have been the bigger person, apologizing for the way I had acted, but Nikki could have done that as well. At this point I wasn’t sure if I would ever see or speak to Nikki again. I couldn’t confide in Mac about Nikki and I’s fight. Hell, I haven’t seen or spoken to her in about a week. She was off with her new boyfriend, some yuppie guy from San Francisco.

I aimlessly flicked through the TV channels, not interested in anything that was on. This was what my life had consisted of for the past week. I would come home from work, grade some papers, work on my lesson plans, and then sit on the couch and watch TV. There were even times where I would fall asleep in front of the TV and wake up to the National Anthem playing. My life was once again boring and I was back to my lame, boring self once again. During the few months that Nikki and I were together, I felt different. I didn’t feel as if I was boring, even though Nikki would say I was at times. I felt more alive, more rebellious, not so much the timid Caroline I once was. He made me feel as if I was another person and I liked that.

I was in mid channel flip when someone started knocking on the front door. I slowly removed myself from the couch and staggered toward the door.

“Miss Caroline Daniels?” An older man with a chauffer’s uniform asked.

I looked at him confused, “Yes.” I answered. I watched as he pulled an envelope out of his suit jacket. “These are for you, ma’am.” I continued to look at him confused as I took the envelope out his hand.

“First class tickets to Fort Lauderdale, Florida?” I questioned. I looked up at the driver, a smile present on his face. “Do you have the right person? Surely there’s another Caroline Daniels out in Southern California that is needing these tickets right now.” I rambled. The driver continued to smile. “I’m pretty sure you have the wrong person, mister.” I stretched my hand back out to give him the tickets.

He shook his head no, “I have strict orders from Mr. Doc McGee to give these tickets to you and you only.”

Doc McGee, the band’s manager. “I-” I started to speak. “I can’t accept this, sir. I have to work and-” I stumbled. “I just can’t go.” My hand remained outstretched, trying to get him to take the tickets back. I wasn’t lying when I said I had to work. The next few weeks were going to be very busy for me seeing as it was nearing the end of the school year. My students were gearing up for testing and me flying out to Florida last minute would not be good. I had an obligation and Nikki Sixx was not one of them right now. Maybe if he contacted me himself, then maybe I would consider it.

The driver hesitantly accepted the tickets, giving me a ‘are you sure’ look.

I cleared my throat, “Just let Doc know that I appreciate the gesture but right now’s not the best time.” He nodded his head, wishing me well, before making his way down the stairs. I re-entered my apartment, shutting the door behind me and leaned against the aged wood. A thousand thoughts were rushing through my mind, one of the thoughts revolving around the possibility of seeing Nikki and how I just ruined that opportunity. What if it was Nikki’s idea to send me out to Florida? If it was his idea, he was going to be super pissed that I turned the offer down.

Without giving it another thought, I tore open the front door, finding the older man about to get into the limo. “Mister!” I exclaimed. I raced down the metal stairs, barefoot, looking as if I had just lost my mind. “Mister, wait!” I yelled. He turned around, the tickets still in his hand.

“Ma’am.” He questioned. This poor man probably thought I was off my rocker.

“I’ll g-.” I tried to catch my breath. “I’ll go.” I told him breathlessly. A smile formed across his face as he handed me the tickets. “How much time do I have to pack.” I asked still somewhat out of breath.

He looked down at his gold watch, “30 minutes, miss.” I could feel my eyes bug out of my head at his answer. I hadn’t even showered for the day and now I only had 30 minutes to pack and shower. I quickly ran back up the stairs, tearing open my door, and running straight to the shower. I showered and shaved my legs in record time, even though I nicked my poor legs all to pieces. I left my hair to air-dry, throwing on a simple top and shorts. I dug my dusty suitcase out of my closet, discarding the leftover items on my unmade bed. I started throwing in random items of clothing. Shirts, dresses, shorts, shoes, cosmetics, etc. At this point, I didn’t know what I had packed but it would have to do at this point. I made sure that all electrical items were unplugged and that my stove was turned off.

“Let’s do this, Caroline.”

First off, my first-time flying was an absolute nightmare. I always thought first class was some magical place like they show on movies and tv shows. I thought I would be treated with the upmost respect and be given anything I wanted. Well- that was big negative nelly on that part. As soon as I boarded the flight, the stewardess asked if I was sitting in the right section. I had to physically show her my ticket, and even then, she looked at me like I was lying. The people were sat around me were rude, upper class people that looked at me like the stewardess had. If it was going to be this much of a hassle, I would have traded in my ticket for economy class.

Another thing was the turbulence was awful. I thought I was on the verge of dying in a plane crash multiple times. The people around me acted like it wasn’t a big deal, but I wasn’t a pro flyer like most of these people. I was so happy to finally touch down in Fort Lauderdale 5 hours later. The sun was slowly starting to set and it created a beautiful glow across the city. As the plane skidded onto the runway, my nerves started to get the best of me. What if Nikki is mad that I just randomly showed up? Maybe Doc told him that I was coming. Maybe it was Nikki’s idea all along. I had so many thoughts swirling through my head that it was making me dizzy.

I de-boarded the plane and went off to search for my luggage. I had no idea who was picking me up or where I was going at this point. The driver back in LA said nothing about a hotel or who was driving me where once I landed in Fort Lauderdale. I looked like a stray dog, wandering around the street, looking for an owner. As I made my way toward the exit, I could see different people lined up holding signs with people’s names written on them. Most of the signs read last names only, but none of them had Daniels or Caroline written on them. I had no idea how to get a hold of Doc, Nikki, or anyone for that matter.

I was almost on the verge of tears as I took a seat near the ticket counter. Maybe it WAS a big mistake to come out here. I should have known that something like this would happen. What was I going to do now? I had enough money to buy another plane ticket back home, but who’s to say they had another flight tonight back to LA? I would have to get a hotel and spend the night in a city that I was very unfamiliar with.

“Caroline!” A man’s voice called out. “Caroline!”

I looked over my shoulder and saw Tom Zutaut making his way towards me. I quickly wiped away the tears that had been falling and gathered my things. Even though I barely knew the guy, I was so excited to see him. I was so excited to see Tom that as soon as he was within arm’s reach, I wrapped my arms around his neck and almost squeezed the life out him.

“I’ve never been so happy to see someone in my whole life.” I muttered as I hugged him. I felt his chest move as he let out a laugh, wrapping his long arms around my waist.

“It’s good to see you too.” He laughed. I released him from my hold, standing to face the towering man. “So-. “He started. “How was the flight.”

I let out a sigh, explaining to him the whole ordeal with the stewardess, passengers, and the God-awful turbulence. He just stood there smiling the whole time as I expressed my distaste of flying. I probably sounded like a raging lunatic, over dramatizing the situation.

“So, you ready to go?” He asked, taking one of my bags. I let out a sigh, mentally asking myself if I really was ready. “Yeah-”I sighed. “I’m ready…”

“SO-“ I began. “How’s everything been going?”

Tom looked over at me, a smile adorned of his face. “Fine.” He spoke. “The guys have been killing it every night. The fans really love them.” I couldn’t help but smile as well. Nikki had expressed to me a couple times that he was worried that people wouldn’t like them once they went out on the road. You would never think by looking at him that he cared what people thought of him or his music, but he cared greatly.

“Nikki’s been writing new songs for the next album. They seem pretty damn good.” My heart began to beat faster at the mention of Nikki’s name.

“How’s he been doing?” I asked.

Tom looked down at his lap and then back to me, “He’s living his best rock star life.” He chuckled. “Partying all night and sleeping all day.” A smile formed on my face at the mention of Nikki enjoying himself. “It looks like we’ve arrived.” Tom muttered, changing the subject. I looked out the dark window as the hotel came into view. The building was a bit older but looked pretty surrounded by all the manicured palm trees and bushes. The car came to a stop in front of the entrance, “You ready?” Tom asked. I looked at him, feeling panic start to engulf my body. “Are you okay?” He asked concerned. The door suddenly opened, revealing the smiling driver.

“Does he know I’m here?” I blurted out. “Does Nikki know I’m here?”

Tom scratched the back of his shaggy head, shaking his head no in the process. “He has no clue.” He stated. “Doc wanted it to be a surprise.” I should have known.

A million thoughts ran through my mind as Tom gave one last look before getting out if the limo. “It’s gonna be okay, Caroline.” He tried to assure me. “Trust me.” He smiled, reaching out his hand for me to take. I hesitated for a second before accepting his awaiting limb. The humid South Florida air enveloped me as the driver helped retrieve my bags from the trunk. I quietly thanked him before following Tom into the building. The inside felt almost as stuffy as it did outside, causing my clothes to stick to me even more. I instantly went to the check-in counter so I could get a room for the night or two.

“Caroline.” Tom’s voice sounded. I looked up from my purse, “Yeah?” I asked confused. He was looking at me even more confused.

“What are you doing?” He questioned as he came over to where I was standing. I explained to him that I was going to get a room for the night. Since he didn’t say anything about a room, I figured that I would have to purchase my own.

He started to smile, “You’re sharing a room with Nikki.” My eyes widened at this revelation. “That’s okay, isn’t it? Doc and I figured it would be okay.” He explained. I slowly nodded my head as I placed my wallet back into my purse. I gave the clerk a small, apologetic smile, before turning and following Tom towards the elevators.

“Nikki and the guys are staying on the 6th floor.” He stated as he pressed the metal button. “Hopefully he’s in his room-” He checked his watch. “He’s usually in there writing new material or reading some kind of book.” I stayed silent as I waited for the elevator doors to open. Once the doors did open, my heart rate escalated. With each step we took, the more nervous I got.

We finally stopped in front of solid, wood door with the number 612 printed above the peephole. “Here we are.” Tom sang. My hands were sweating at this point as I tried to fix my clothes and fluff my hair out a bit. I could have used some time to clean up but there was no use at this point. I watched as Tom’s hand connected with the wood, knocking three times before stepping back. We stayed silent, waiting for Nikki to open the door. After a few seconds, Tom knocked again but there still no answer. “Weird.” He muttered. After another minute or so, he pulled a set of keys of his pocket. I watched as he placed the key in the lock, unlocking Nikki’s hotel room.

“Doc and I have keys to each of the guys’ rooms-” He began to explain. “You know just in case we need to get in for some reason.” I stayed silent as I followed his lead into Nikki’s room. First off, the room was an absolute wreck. Nikki’s clothes were scattered all over the place, there was empty food containers on the counter, along with waded up pieces of paper. Not to mention, the room was hotter than hades and smelled like sweat and alcohol. “What a mess.”

Tom let out a laugh, “You think this is bad, you should see Tommy and Vince’s room.” If it was worse than Nikki’s, then I think I would pass. I hesitantly placed my bags on a clean patch of carpet before taking a seat on the unmade bed. “So-” Tom began. “I’m gonna go find out where Nikki and the guys are and I’ll be back to get you. Okay?” I nodded my head. This little time to myself would give me time to freshen up a bit and not look so haggard. I waited until Tom closed the door before I started looking through my suitcase for a new outfit. I stepped over the clothes and trash as I walked toward the bathroom sink. I splashed warm water on my face, wiping away the grime with a clean washcloth (at least I hope it was clean).

I began to strip out of my clothes, leaving me in my mix-match bra and underwear. I was never the type of girl who wore sexy undergarments. I had underwear that had the days of the week on the backside, if that tells you anything about me. I walked over to where my suitcase was laying and started retrieving the clothes.

“Caroline, I found th- Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” Tom’s voice had turned from relaxed to pure panic in the matter of seconds. I hurriedly picked up the towel that was laying on the floor, covering up my exposed body. Tom’s back was to me, “I am so, so sorry, Caroline. I should have knocked. Oh God, I am so sorry.” He continued to apologize.

I couldn’t help but start laughing. I was a little embarrassed at first but it was suddenly hilarious to me. It’s not like he saw me completely naked, I was covered in the important areas. “Are you okay?” Tom asked confused. “Oh God, are you crying?” He quickly turned around, a confused look adorning his face. “What’s so funny?”

I was laughing so hard that I really was on the verge of tears. “You should have seen your face.” I spoke between laughs. “I’m sorry for laughing but that was hilarious.”

Tom stood there awkwardly, “I- uh, I’m gonna let you finish getting uh, getting dressed.” I watched as he started to walk out of the room. “Just come out when you’re done, okay?”

“Okay.” I stated. I was starting to feel bad for laughing. I didn’t know Tom that well but I could tell her was a relatively shy and reserved guy. By the way he was acting, he was genially embarrassed for walking in on me. I was gonna have to apologize to him for laughing at him.

I quickly re-dressed, choosing a floral, spaghetti strapped dress with my Jellies. I left my hair down, teasing it up a little to add more volume since the humidity had other plans. Finally, applying foundation and a little bit of eye shadow. I took a quick look in the mirror before stepping out of the room, rejoining a still embarrassed Tom in the hallway.

We both started to speak, saying each other’s names in unison. “You go first.” I told him.

He took a deep breath, “I’m sorry I walked in on you. I really should have knocked or maybe just told you through the door.” He was still acting like he had just committed a serious crime.

I placed my hand on his shoulder, “It’s really okay, Tom.” I explained. “No harm, no fowl.” I smiled. “And, I’m sorry for laughing at you. I guess I was shocked by what happened and then I saw the look on your face. You were panicked and I should have reacted better.” A small smile formed on his face. “Truce?”

I placed my hand out for him to shake. He looked down at my hand, “Truce.” He placed his larger hand in mine, shaking off the incident. “Now-“ He started. “Let’s go find the guys.”

Tom led me out to the pool area where the hotel guest were lounging in the sun and splashing around in the pool.

“Zutaut!” A man’s voice rang out, causing those around to look in that person’s direction.

“Oooh, Zutaut is getting him so pussy!” Another voice sounded. I knew it had to be the guys of Motley, luckily not Nikki’s.

“He’ll get that pussy after I’ve had my way with it first.” Nikki’s familiar voice finally sounded. My stomach kind of dropped at his comment. He had no idea that it was me standing behind Tom, meaning that he was more than willing to have sex with some random stranger. Does that mean he’s been sleeping with people behind my back? Before Tom could introduce my arrival, I stepped out from behind him, Nikki’s face instantly falling.

The guys stayed silent for a moment, Tommy looking between Nikki and I. “Hey.” I muttered. Nikki’s face was stone as he pushed his sunglasses up his nose. “Do we know her?” I heard Vince whisper to Tommy. Tommy slowly nodded his head, explaining who I was.

“Why is she here, Zutaut?” Nikki finally spoke. His hidden eyes burning holes into my soul as he remained seated in the poor chair.

“I was invited.” I decided to speak up. “Doc and Tom invited me.” I could see Tom shuffling nervously next to me as Nikki remained silent.

“Surprise.” Tom muttered, a small smile forming on his face.

Nikki’s face remained unchanged, the others looking in his direction with smirks on their faces. Even though it’s only been a couple weeks, Nikki looked different. I noticed he know had tattoos etched onto his arms, one being the name of the band. His hair was darker, his skin a bit more paler, and a massive chip was now planted on his shoulder.

“I like her.” Vince spoke, pulling his sunglasses down to look at me fully. I shuffled uncomfortably in my place, moving towards Tom in order to hide from his glare. Everything about this whole situation was making me uncomfortable and making me regret my decision to even come here. Nikki didn’t look the least bit thrilled to see me, almost as if he was wishing me away in his mind. His band mates were making me nervous, and it was hotter than hades outside. I was ready to be back in California in the seclusion of my tiny apartment.

“Sixx-” Tommy’s voice rang out. “Aren’t you gonna welcome your girl to Florida?” A huge smile was planted on his face. “I’m sure Lisa would like that.”

My head snapped to look at Tommy, my eyes growing wide. My name wasn’t Lisa, it’s freaking Caroline! Was there a Lisa? “Caroline.” Nikki and I said in unison. I looked at him, watching as he finished the rest of his beer, before staggering out of the poor chair. “Her name is Caroline, asshole.” He walked past them, grabbing my hand in the process, taking us in the direction of the motel. We both stayed silent as we walked, Nikki’s thumb softly rubbing against my own. We soon made it to the familiar door as Nikki removed his key from his pocket to unlock the door.

“It’s already unlocked.” I spoke. Nikki looked at me, confusion written on his face. “Tom let me in so I could put my stuff in there and so I could freshen up.” Nikki remained silent, staying still for a moment, before shaking his head and opening the door. I know that it was a surprise for me to just show up without him knowing, but he was acting like a real jerk right now. I wasn’t the one who came up with the idea. A part of me thought that he would be over the moon to see me, especially after what happened the last time we saw each other.

Once we were both in the room, standing on opposite sides of the bed, Nikki released his frustrations on me.

“Why are you here, Caroline?” He breathed out. I looked down at the ground, unable to make eye contact with him. “I was invited.” I muttered. I had no other answer to that question. “I thought you would be happy to see me.” He removed his sunglasses, throwing them on the bedside table.

He let out a sigh, rubbing his hand down his face, “If I wanted you to come out here, I would have invited you myself. Doc and Tom had no fucking right to in-“

“Stop being such an asshole!” I cut him off, bravery taking over my small frame. “I made the decision to take this offer because I missed you. I wanted to apologize for the way I acted and I was hoping you would do the same.” He remained silent. “I know I don’t fit into the whole rock star lifestyle but I’m willing to do anything to be with you, Nikki. Hell, I flew in an airplane so I could come and see you. I can’ say I would do that for anyone else and then here you are treating me like I’m a piece of trash on the street.”

I waited for him to say something back but he just stood there, keeping his eyes trained on the floor. The silence in the room was deafening, making me grow even more uncomfortable. “Can you please just say something!” I yelled. “Just talk to me.”

He slowly lifted his gaze from the floor, his green eyes drilling eyes through my body. “I fucking love you-“ He started. “I fucking love you and that’s the reason I bought you that fucking house.” His voice growing louder. “I worked my ass off to buy you that house and to have you say no, that fucking hurt.” I knew that he was upset about me refusing to move in with him, but I didn’t know he was this upset. “I’m not the type of person who lets people in right away. If you were just some girl I wanted to have sex with, I would have left you already and moved onto the next girl.” I watched as he began walking towards me. “I care so much about you that it’s scaring the shit out of me. You’re the only girl I’ve ever felt this way about and I have no idea how to be a good boyfriend or partner. Yeah, I bought a house without talking to you first, but I wanted it to be a surprise and I thought our relationship was ready for that type of surprise.” He was now standing in front of me, towering over my much shorter frame.

He intertwined his fingers with mine, “You are the only girl I ever want to be with. You’re the only girl I ever think about. I want you to move in with me and be there when I get back from tour. I want to wake up next to you every morning or afternoon or whenever we decide to get up.” I couldn’t help but chuckle as a tear trailed down my face. “Please-“ He brought my hand up to his lips, kissing the back of my hand. “Caroline, please move in with me.”

I remained silent, staring into his eyes, so many thoughts running through my head. “Okay.”

Looking back, I really should have thought more on that decision….

@triplehaitches @ithinkimhardcore @jonesie32 @theabductionofpersephone @sighsophiia @knockemdeadgirl @haileynicoleseavey17 @lauravic @primal-screamer @divaanya @fandomshit6000 @unknownoblivion @sinningsixx @sparxx27 @vousmemanqueez @xwhitewalkerx

#nikki sixx #Douglas Booth #douglasbooth!nikkisixx #Motley Crue #motley crue fanfic #nikki sixx imagine #nikki sixx x oc #nikki sixx fanfiction #douglas booth fanfiction #Tommy Lee #colson baker #mgk #iwan rheon #Mick Mars #Vince Neil #Daniel Webber #Zoey Deutch #80s #fanfiction

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witchsheartbooks · 5 years ago

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Hi. I have seen that you write for canon/canon too. If it's right, than could you, please, write some yandere!Ashe/Sirius. Thank you a lot in advance!

Good thing I literally specialize in Yandere Ashe and his distasteful fixations. I do apologize since this one may come off as off kilter rambling with a slight drabble at the end. Here you are, Darling. Be sure to look at the content warning tags everyone! Please enjoy!

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When Ashe fixates on someone his behavior is always seen as off. His personality between fake and snake is even more difficult to distinguish than normal. So as for when he’s around the object of his fixation? Oh boy does he pull some distasteful stuff. As for it being aimed at Sirius? It goes alittle something like this.Ashe will more than likely use the medicines he brought with me to lift some from the cabinet in Sirius’s room. What he uses can be anything from knock out drugs to simple aphrodisiacs. Considering the knock out drugs aren’t super effective on Sirius, Ashe tends to steer more to the cripplingly heavily effective aphrodisiacs to spike the Lavender Virgin’s libido.

Binds are usually used in some respect or another, you know when he actually gets Sirius to himself. I’ll let you fill in those gaps yourself for the viewers that would rather keep this a tad more safe for work.

Ashe is highly possessive of his fixations. Seeing any of the others even looking let alone speaking to his fixation will set him off. There are times when he’s utterly obvious about it but more than likely, he confronts them when they are alone. A predator ready to strike if anything else.

Now Sirius in any variation of a loop usually figures out Ashe’s nonsense but it’s never til the end of said loop. The twisted researcher is quite clingy and overly affectionate, even so much as being kind to Sirius no matter how cruel the Lavender is to him.

If anything the cruelty only drives him if not for a short time. Ashe tends to work on eliminating Noel or Claire from the picture first. Sirius isn’t great at keeping his attachment to those two a secret. He’s slipped up about their past atleast once at dinner through the span of loops. Plus either of them tend to visit Sirius at night whether for idle conversation or some sort of game the two drag him into.

Ashe of course eaves drops on anything regarding his lovely bleeding violet. His Lavender prince. Thinking about the object of his fixation usually leaves him a shivering mess from simply his deluded imagination.

To be honest Yandere Ashe very much unsettles Sirius but then again, any variation of Ashe does.

Now here’s a little kicker for you sweetheart. If Sirius ignores Ashe alittle too much or fixates on others aside from himself? That is perhaps when he becomes the most dangerous to Sirius. Again he will pick off those distractions. Go on a length monologue as he approaches the shivering Lavender. It goes like this:

Hands drenched in blood the giggling male approaches the shivering Lavender. “Oh Sirius, My Love. It’s just us now.~”He closes the distance and his hand roughly cups his chin as that unnerving sheen over those gold eyes becomes more apparent, “So why is it…that no matter what I do for you. You wont look at me?~”

Sirius slaps his hand away slipping out of his grasp of where he had been pinned to the counter in the kitchen, “Because your a bloody lunatic, Ashe!”

More laughter and even tears prick at the researchers eyes as scalpels thread through his knuckles. “Oh dear. I can’t have you running off, now can I? Don’t worry. You’ll learn to love me. It will just take…some training.~”

His steps echoed in the empty kitchen but Sirius turned on his heel, bursting into a run.

Ashe continued to giggle, “Ah so you want to play tag, my bleeding violet? Very well then. Run Rabbit Run!~”

He takes off in a sprint after his prey.

#Witch's Heart #Sirius Gibson #Ashe Bradley #Claire Elford #Noel Levine #Anonymous #The rest of these are Warning tags #Yandere #Horror #Gore #Aphrodisiac Usage

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nazyalenskygranger · 5 years ago

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I’m back, b*tches

This is basically a Zoyalai high school AU, which can also serve as a King of Scars retelling. Everybody kept ignoring me, so I had to write it myself. Forgive me for any writing, spelling or plot mistakes.

“Ugh. I’m pretty sure I just failed that pop quiz,” Nikolai complained while they were heading to Biology. Great, two months ago, she would have enjoyed Biology, but the new teacher was by all accounts an idiot and the place reawakened memories. She forced those thoughts away and flashed Nikolai an amused smile and said,” I told you to pay attention in class. Although, it was really not worth the effort.” With a quirk of her mouth, she added, “For me, at least.”

“You’re not helping at all,” he huffed.

She gave him one of her rare laughs, that she knew he treasured, and retorted,” I wasn’t trying to be helpful.

It was his turn to laugh as he teased,” When are you ever.”

They entered the Anatomy Lab together and took a seat behind Genya and David, who seemed to have an intense, if one-sided, conversation about the best way to manufacture silk. Genya promptly turned around and greeted them. “Hey, Genya,” Zoya said. Genya nudged David rater sharply and he muttered a small “hi” without looking up. Nikolai greeted them both before smirking and saying, “Good to see you too, David.” Zoya greeted David, who ignored her in return, and snapped her attention to her notes, to review whatever useless stuff they had done on Friday. Saints, she hated Mondays. Especially in this class. Normally she wouldn’t mind, but their new substitute teachers were annoying to a horrifying extent. Substitute teachers were already known to be stupid, but this one ( she had forgotten her name since he wasn’t worth her time) was a special kind of stupid. His lessons consisted of him rambling about his pets, the disgustingly boring stuff he does, and reading from a High School Psychology book in a pretentious manner, and mispronouncing every third word. And also, a quiz on his pets every Monday. Sometimes Zoya wondered if their old professor paid him to be stupid so that their board of administrators reconsidered their decision to fire him, but that would never happen. Not on her watch at least. Besides former Professor Morozova turned serial killer was in prison, and he wouldn’t be getting out soon. Even though Zoya knew that their sub was better than that psychotic lunatic, who liked to explain the vital organs to college kids in his free time, that didn’t mean that she didn’t feel the urge to strangle him if he pronounced environment wrong one more time. At least this one was better than the last one, who apparently thought they were in kindergarten because they had made rainbow slime, named the eleven planets and participated in ridiculous pop quizzes about Disney movies. Nikolai had found it funny, “Just think about the easy A, Nazyalensky.” Zoya had not. Their finals were not written by their subs, and Zoya would not get an easy A on that. She had long since resorted to checking out biology books from the library and teaching herself, but she didn’t want her grade to suffer, so she had to pay attention to his pets. “Did you actually write down all that stuff he blabbered about his pets?”

“Yup. Every mispronounced word he muttered in class. Including their hobbies.”

He laughed and said, “I have them memorized.” He added a smirk that he didn’t care for at all.

“Wow, Nikolai. You memorized the names of our substitute’s pets. This will surely get you into Harvard,” she sarcastically replied.

Nikolai just laughed and watched the door, as the bell rang and the rest of the students began to fill in. David was a complete nerd and was always early, and since Genya and David never got separated, Genya was early as well. Zoya liked to be early, so she could chat with Genya or catch up on some last-minute studying, as she was doing now. Nikolai just tagged along with her. At first, she found it annoying, now, not so much. Genya had moved out of her dorm room to live with David, and Nikolai had come to move in with her. Zoya found she didn’t mind that much. Zoya would never admit this out loud, but Nikolai was a robotics genius. This meant that he didn’t mind helping her, but also meant that their shared dorm room was always a bit messy from his many experiments. She turned the page in her notebook and began reviewing what Louisa the parrot liked to eat. She was just reading about Louisa’s favorite type of mango when Nikolai leaned over her shoulder to read with her. Zoya could feel his breath against her neck and repressed an unwelcome shiver.

“I thought you memorized it all.”

“It won’t hurt to review Louisa’s favorite brand of shampoo,” he replied.

She was about to reply when the intercom rang and a familiar, cool, smooth-as-glass voice proclaimed,” I’m back! Did you miss me?” Zoya whirled around to face the intercom so fast, she hit Nikolai with her hair. She stared at the speaker in horror and saw Genya grip her chair out of the corner of her eye. The voice continued nonchalantly as if it didn’t belong to a serial killer, “For those of you who don’t know, I’m Professor Alexander Morozova and I will be resuming my teaching right away.” The intercom buzzed to signify the end of the announcement and hell broke loose in the classroom. Everyone was talking over everybody else and Marie had started crying hysterically. Zoya tried to keep the panic from clouding her help and turned to Genya, who looked severely shaken. “You ok?” she asked. Genya looked at Zoya for a moment before replying,” Yeah. I think so. At least I’m going to be.” Zoya studied her friend, she still looked shaken, but otherwise fine. Her lip was trembling though. David put his arm on her shoulder ina sympathetic manner and Genya smiled at him. Zoya turned to Nikolai, who looked like he saw a ghost. Before she could say or do anything else, the door burst open and Zoya whirled around again. In the doorway, stood no other than Professor Morozova himself, looking as impeccable as always, aside from the faint line of scars that ran across his face, courtesy of Alina Starkov. The room immediately quieted down and settling in uncomfortable silence as everybody stared at the door expectantly. Even Marie stopped crying. Professor Morozova smirked at her, his gaze snaking down her figure. She repressed an unwelcome shiver of disgust and glanced at Genya. She had paled extensively, staring at their former Professor turned psychotic lunatic. Over the semester, Zoya had found herself getting closer to Genya, now, she considered Genya her best friend. Aside from Nikolai maybe. Ultimately, Genya’s fear was what drove her to act. She stood up and said, with as much venom as she could muster, which is a lot,” What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be rotting in Alcatraz?” The Darkling, which is his serial killer persona, dared to look mildly amused. His lips quirked into a frustrating smirk as he said,” I got released early.” Before he could continue, she spat, “Why the hell would they release a psychotic serial killer with a disgustingly cringy name whose free-time pleasures consist of torturing innocent women?” The Darkling just laughed and replied, “Why don’t you just ask them? Now, your substitute is going to teach you for today, but starting with tomorrow, you will get the pleasure of enjoying my teaching skills once again.” And with that, he left as if it were easy. The class erupted into turmoil once again, as the sub opened up his Middle School history book and started droning on about the American Revolution. Nobody was paying him any attention. At least, he had forgotten all about the pop quiz. Zoya willed herself to sit and even her breathing. She pressed his hands to her head trying to refrain from panicking. She felt Nikolai wrap his arm around her and whispering soothingly to her. Zoya calmed down at looked at Nikolai. “We need a plan. Nikolai smirked at her and said, “Already have one.”

This will probably get a sequel? Idk, I’ll tag it high school au.

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the-marvel-imagines-blog · 5 years ago

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Madness | Chpt. 15

Chapter Title: “Still”

Pairing: Loki x Original Female Character

Word Count: 5,907

Warnings: blood, angst

Name Pronunciations: Hjalmar: “He-all-mar” | Aaldir: “All-deer” | Ephinea: “Eh-fin-ee-uh”

Summary: Ezra takes advantage of Loki’s emotions and finds a way into his unguarded mind.

A/N: I’m so excited to share this chapter because I feel like this is where things finally start to pick up in Loki and Eva’s section of the fic. As I’ve stated previously, I’ve taken creative liberties with these characters, and I hope I do them justice. Thank you to each one of you who continues to interact with this fic, and I want to give an extra special thanks to those of you who have reached out with theories, ideas, compliments, or even questions. It means the world to me that anyone reads this because this fic means so much to me. Once again, thank you all so, so, so much, and I hope you enjoy this installment <3

Tagged: @teddyboobear @alledeglyfunny @xletmetaste-yoursmilex @itsknife2meetu @mynameisyara @j-j-ehlby-writes @jillilama-blog (anyone who wants to be tagged can message me and ask. It’s not a problem at all)

*Loki’s POV*

Loki-my love, my light, my life,

I’m writing this letter to you to tell you that I’ve left for Midgard. I’m not entirely sure if or when I’ll be returning, but there is an issue that calls for my attention. I can’t lie to you. I can’t tell you that I want to come back to Asgard once I leave. There’s nothing left for me here without you. Odin’s decisions have left me powerless in both the situation with you and decisions that are being made out here. You made your choice, Loki, and you didn’t choose me. I chose, you though, and I will continue to choose you. I’ve never stopped loving you, and I never will. I’ll love you until every star burns out and swallows the universe into the void. Even then, I’m sure I’ll continue loving you-I’m sure I’d find a way. I have nothing left here, Loki, no one left who needs me. I’ve never belonged in Asgard; we both knew that, so I can’t find a logical reason to want to return to a place that has never wanted me.

You’ve made it clear that you’d prefer to live your life without me, that you’d rather die than spend another moment in my presence, and I’m prepared to give that to you. I’m prepared to give you the peace and solitude that you wish for, but I want you to remember that if you let me, I will come running back to you in a heartbeat. That’s the thing about our love-I thought it would last for both of us. I thought our love would withstand the test of time, but I’ve been loving a memory for so long. I’ve lost almost all hope that the man I loved is still somewhere inside you. Maybe Thanos did burn him out. Maybe Thanos killed him. Maybe he truly did steal every piece of the man you once were, leaving me with nothing. Those thoughts, the knowledge of what he did to you-to the man I loved-is what will help me find pleasure in killing him. Death-no matter how gruesome or painful-would be far more merciful than the pain I feel when I live my life without you by my side. Perhaps that’s what I’m waiting for. I cannot die in peace until I find him and rip him apart.

My father will find the note I left for him soon enough, and if I die, or if I decide to stay on Midgard, know that he will continue to fight for you the way I always have. Aaldir has never lost sight of you, just as I haven’t. I’ll always keep an eye on you, Loki, and remember that you will always be loved. As long as I’m alive, there will always be someone on your side. I’ve believed in you, even when you didn’t believe in yourself. I’ve loved you, even when you didn’t love yourself. I’ve fought for you, even when you gave up. While my mind is telling me that the man I love is long gone, my heart is holding out hope that he’s still in there somewhere, that all we’ve been through wasn’t wasted time. That’s the one thing that has kept me from giving up. You’re my everything, Loki. I love you.

Love always,

Eva

My eyes watered as I stared down at the note. Sorrow struck me, but I was also burdened with a fear that was unparalleled. I hated the thought of her knowing about Thanos, of her thirst for revenge. I hated that she knew about him, that she was prepared to find him and kill him for what he did. I knew how powerful he was, and he was one of the main reasons why I continued to push her away. I wanted to hold her, to love her once more. I never stopped loving her, and Thanos used that against me. He saw that she was my weakness, then, he exploited it. I couldn’t tell her that the reason why I was so afraid to be with her was because of Thanos because that would only drive her to find him even more.

The memory was still so vivid, as if it were happening in that very moment. Thanos wanted me to bring Eva to him, telling me that they could do great things together, that they could bring about the dawn of a new universe. I never understood why he wanted Eva, though. Her gifts were undeniable, and I could sense her power; however, she showed no signs of being a goddess. Still, Thanos wanted her, and if he couldn’t have her, no one could. I knew that my failure to deliver her to him had the potential of being detrimental to all of us, since he didn’t settle. He would search for her, and when he found her, he would take her. Perhaps, it was part of the reason why he ruined me in the first place. He wanted to give Eva a reason to seek him out. Either way, I couldn’t risk her safety. No matter how badly I wanted to pick up where we left off, to apologize for it all, to love her enough to make up for all the time we lost, I couldn’t. I couldn’t put her in danger, so I had to push her away, make her wish she never loved me in the first place. It was a fate worse than death.

“She chose Midgard over you,” that gruff voice sounded from the cell across from mine. Ezra.

I glared at him, knowing that he was merely trying to evoke an emotion. He looked so familiar. Those eyes-I had seen them before. They were as green, like the color of spring. They were familiar, but they were also so cold, “the further away from me, the safer she is,” I hissed, turning away from him, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of my anger.

“Thanos could never do to her what Cul will do to her once he has his hands on her,” he insisted, as if he read my mind, as if he could see how much I feared the Mad Titan. He couldn’t possibly know that. I didn’t even know who Cul was in the first place, so I tried to imagine that he had just gone mad. Perhaps he was one of the rambling lunatics that Odin often abandoned in the dungeons. Ezra continued, though, “just imagine what Thanos would do but a thousand times worse. Imagine the hell my father will rain down upon her. Imagine it,” he hissed before the world began to blur.

In the blink of an eye, everything around me changed. I was still in my cell, but the dungeon was empty, and my cell was open. What was happening? My eyes flickered around at the rubble where many of the cells used to be. Blood-dried and fresh-painted the walls and floors-a harsh contrast to what the dungeons had once been. While it was never a beautiful place to be, the first level was never particularly unkempt. It was what one would assume the dungeons of Asgard would look like-still elegant, while also being dreary enough to drive one mad. The destruction surrounding me was something I was used to, but it hadn’t taken over my home before. All I could think of was the one person I needed to protect. Eva.

While the dungeon was empty, and all the cells were completely vacant, I still heard Ezra’s voice, “I would suggest you run,” he whispered, sadistically. I could hear the amusement in his voice, as if he found joy in my distress. I knew that he was in my head, that he was toying with me. This couldn’t be true. This couldn’t be my home. However, it was so immersive. I could smell the fresh blood; the metallic scent filled the dungeons. I could feel the stillness in the air. I could hear the silence, the nothingness. Then, I could hear her scream. It was just as clear as her voice when she sang in the forest, but it elicited a more primal emotion. As soon as her scream echoed through the walls of the palace, reaching me in the dungeons, I took off.

My legs pushed my body as hard as they could. I stumbled up the stairs, catching myself from falling, as I knew it would take up precious time I had to get to her. No matter how fast I ran, though, I felt like I wasn’t gaining on her. Her screams of agony still felt miles away, and the palace felt larger than ever. I had walked these halls thousands of times, and the never felt so long in all my life. The last time I had walked them felt like it was short-lived. I knew it would be the last few moments I would get to spend with her. She had trailed behind the guards as I was brought before my father, and she followed them when they brought me back down to “live out the rest of my days” in the dungeons amongst the filth. She didn’t stay long enough to watch them toss me into my cell, and I was glad for that. She didn’t need to see me the way I was. She didn’t deserve any of what I put her through, what my presence put her through.

Another scream forced me to push myself even faster, and my mind wandered once more. Where was this endurance when Eva, Thor, and I were still young? When we would play within the walls of the castle and break Odin’s expensive collections? Mother would always find us before Odin caught onto what had happened, and she would send us out into the garden to play before convincing the Allfather that it was her clumsiness-which she had none of-that led to his possessions being broken. Frigga, for a short time, was the light of my life. She was the person who believed in me, who loved me with all my flaws, who comforted me in every way. Then, the universe decided that I was worthy of something. Thor was worthy of his powers, but I was worthy of Eva. I never needed a throne, a hammer, a statue. All I ever needed was Eva, my light, my love, my life, my princess.

“She’s dying, Loki. If you don’t get to her before my father does, you’re going to lose what you love most,” Ezra growled, his voice causing the world around me to quake. If my body had the ability to move any faster, it did. I barreled through the doors of the palace only to see the horror before me. Asgard was on fire. The city before me was turned to ash, and what had been left standing was charred and ruined. I gazed over at the forest-our home-to see that the trees Eva once sang to were ablaze, lighting up the night around them. It was one of the most terrifying sights of my life. Eva and I lived in that forest, fell in love amongst the trees, and I had even planned to ask her to marry me beneath the leaves of our tree-the tree of life that was watered with Death’s tears. It was gone. All of it. Gone.

I nearly fell down the stairs upon descending them. I used her screams to guide me through the streets, and I used the dim light from the burning coal or the small fires that still lived along my path. My body became weaker the more desperate and pained her screams became. The closer I got, the louder they became, which was both frightening and relieving. I was growing closer, but she was also still in pain. The screams began to grow so loud, the ground beneath me quaked. I could feel the power from those desperate pleas for help-those panicked, anguished yells. The sound became so unbearable that I nearly stopped. It was like my body was trying to save me from witnessing what it was about to. It was like my body and mind knew what I was about to see, and if it slowed me just enough, I may have been smart enough to turn around, to walk away.

I wasn’t.

The moment I pushed through that fear, the threshold my mind tried to keep me from crossing, her screams stopped, and my heart fell through the very world beneath me. It was silent. The only sound came from the crackling fire and my heart that thudded in my own chest. In that moment, though, I wished for someone to extract the needless organ from my very body. If the silence meant what I knew it did, I had no use for my heart anymore. I had no use for anything anymore. Knowing that I had to find her no matter what, I continued to run through the streets, the light from the fire growing dimmer and dimmer. Soon, I was running through complete darkness. A sinister laugh rattled me to my very core, “you can’t save her from me,” I heard a deep voice, a voice far deeper than Ezra’s. It didn’t sound like him in the first place, but a part of me knew who it was.

Cul.

In the blink of an eye, my way was lit once more. The homes and shops that lined the streets were set ablaze and gave me the ability to see what I never wanted to see. I had seen her close to death on Midgard, but it was nothing like this. She laid completely lifeless on the street in front of me. Blood stained her pale white skin where it had once been kissed by the sun, and it matted down her wild, dark hair. There she was, the woman I loved, dead right in front of my very eyes. My hand flew up to cover my mouth at the mere sight of her. Blood pooled up on the cobblestone beneath her, and images of our life together flashed before my eyes. I suddenly remembered everything. I remembered every argument, every moment of peace, every ounce of sorrow, every moment of relief. I experienced my life with her. Now, I was without her.

A soft whimper escaped my throat as tears welled up in my eyes. I couldn’t do this without her. I couldn’t live my life without her. We promised that, should we meet Death, we would do so together. This was never the plan. It felt like every ounce of me was pulled out the moment I realized that there was no sign of life from her. There was a void in me that sprung to life and sucked away all the happiness I had ever felt. I still experienced some happiness in the dungeons, like when she would visit or when I would hear her sing in the forest. I still had small moments of happiness, but a life without her was no life at all. My heart felt like it had been torn out of my chest when it sunk in that this was the end. She was the one person who loved me more than I ever deserved, more than I could ever love myself. Now, she was just gone, and the last words I spoke to her were evil, hurtful...angry. I hurt the one thing in my life that I wanted to protect more than anything else. I tried to hate the one woman I loved more than anything else. I’d never have the chance to take it back, to tell her that this was all a mistake, that I was sorry for every ounce of pain I put her through, that I never stopped loving her. Even after Thanos took everything from me, he couldn’t pull away the love that I had for her.

I scrambled over to her, falling to my knees at her side. In the process, my clothes and hands became covered in her blood, “oh...oh no,” I stammered, pulling her body into my arms. I brushed the blood-soaked hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear as I always had, “Eva?” I pressed, trying to get her to open her eyes, to see me. Maybe she would be okay. Maybe she would pull through just like before. When her body remained limp in my arms, I began to panic. The world felt like it was caving in on me, and my heartbeat was suddenly louder than ever before, “Eva?” I shouted, tears beginning to stream wildly down my cheeks. I shook her body as the sobs wracked through me, causing me to tremble. I was terrified in a way I had never been before.

This terror didn’t stem from the fear of being alone because I was used to being alone in the dungeons. It didn’t stem from the fear of being lost because I was lost for some time when I was with Thanos. It didn’t stem from the fear of being hated because I was despised by many as a child. It didn’t stem from the fear of being used because Thanos used me as a pawn in his game on Midgard. It didn’t stem from the fear of being vulnerable because I had been vulnerable with her all my life. No, this was a terror that was rooted in my inability to let go of the one good thing I had, the one miracle in my life: Eva. She was the light in my darkness, the essence of life on the battlefield of my existence, the calm in my chaos. She was everything I ever wanted, ever needed, ever dreamed of. She was the very air I breathed, and now, I was suffocating.

“You paved the way for this to happen. I hope you realize that,” Ezra’s voice cut through my sobs.

I tried to ignore the pain that his words brought because there was no greater pain than holding the last piece of your heart as they died, “Eva, wake up. Please, just wake up,” I begged her, burying my face into her hair as I cried, “don’t do this. Don’t go!”

“You left her alone in an unforgiving world. For what?” Ezra asked, causing my heart to sink. What if he was right? What if this was my fault? I shrunk away from his words, caving in on myself. I held onto her body as tightly as I could without breaking her, and I shielded her from anymore of the harm that he could place upon her, “why? Because you were afraid of Thanos? You should be afraid of my father and I! You should be afraid of what we can take from her, what we can do to her, what we can turn her into!” he shouted, an unforgiving voice in the darkness that felt as if it was swallowing me whole.

I pushed his words aside once more, laying her body down onto the cobblestone ground before curling up next to her. I cried into her hair, every sob tearing through my body, “don’t leave me like this. You promised!” I reminded her of the promise we made to each other. I had broken the promise, and it tore me to pieces when I thought of the pain it must’ve caused her. She always upheld her promise to me, though. She was the first to arrive on Midgard once she heard about my presence there. She was the first to confront me. She was the first to beg me to come home. She was the one who risked her life, who nearly died by my hand, to see if there was a way to save me. She was the one who fought for me. She would move galaxies for me, but I failed her. This was a debt that needed to be paid. I had taken so much from her; now, I was being taken from. I broke her heart time and time again-when I ended our relationship that day in the garden, when I turned against Odin, when I fell from the bridge, when I resurfaced on Midgard, when I delivered hundreds of innocent lives to Death, when I fought her, when I treated her like nothing more than the dirt beneath my feet, when I told her I didn’t love her anymore. Now, she was destroying my heart, taking every ounce of purpose I had ever felt.

My bottom lip quivered as I gazed over at her calm, peaceful face. She wasn’t in pain. It was like she was sleeping. She looked like she did when I would wake up before her. I’d gaze over to see a goddess in my bed next to me. The rising sun was just barely peeking over the horizon, and it cascaded across her slender frame, accentuating the dip in her waist, the curve in her hips, her strong shoulders. I would take the time in the morning to gaze upon the love of my life, the woman who gave me reason, who filled my life with wonder and love. I would envision our future wedding and how I would ask father for permission to marry her. None of the anger I felt mattered anymore. All that mattered was her.

As I continued to gaze at her peaceful face, every ounce of guilt crept up to greet me. I should’ve been there. It should’ve been me. My bottom lip quivered as I grasped her cold hand in my own. It was something we did out of habit when we laid in the grass and stared up at the sky. She would always give my hand a gentle squeeze before she began speaking, and throughout whatever speech she gave me, she would rub my knuckles with her thumb. This time, it was my turn. I gave her hand a gentle squeeze and, with a shaking voice and tears streaming down my face, I recited the poem she had written for me, “and if death should try to part me from you, she will have no heart or love to claim, for my heart is forever in your hands, my life will never be the same. And if death should try to part you from me,” my voice cracked as I held back a sob. I took a moment to collect myself before moving on, “my Love, I would take your place, for death knows not of the hole you would leave. I’d accept her cold embrace. But darling, fear not, for I know not how. I know now when or why. All I know is we’ll meet her together, our journey won’t end with goodbye.”

I heard Ezra’s chuckle in the distance, “what a sweet sentiment,” he remarked in a condescending tone, “it’s a shame you can only offer it to her corpse, and do you know whose fault that is?” he asked, urging me to answer through my increasing emotions, “you promised to protect her! You promised to keep her safe all those years ago. Look how much good your promise did!”

I cracked. He won. I turned my gaze to the neverending sky, “you’re right, okay? What do you want from me? What do you want me to say?” I shouted, trying desperately to wipe the tears from my cheeks, but it was no use. The continued to flood my face regardless of what I did to stop them, “I know! I know I should’ve been there for her, that I should’ve taken care of her and protected her like I said I would. I failed her. What more do you want?” I screamed into the void, waiting for a reply back. I received nothing. I turned my attention back to her, caressing her face with the tips of my fingers. It felt like I was dying, like my soul was being ripped from me, but the universe was too cruel to allow me the peace that death would bring. I frowned, pressing my forehead against hers, “I’m so sorry, Eva! I’m so sorry for everything I’ve ever done that has caused you pain and suffering. I never should’ve left you in the first place. I should’ve stayed with you in the forest that day instead of going to talk with my father. We could have run away and gotten married on Midgard like you always wanted. We could’ve started a family and had beautiful children. They would have your eyes...and my hair. If we had a son first, his name would be Nova, and if we had a daughter, her name would be Aurora,” I whimpered, forcing a smile as I pressed firm kisses to her forehead and cheek.

I felt myself beginning to slip back into the darkness, the familiar descent calling out to me. I just needed not to feel this pain. I needed it to stop, and if I just...let go, it wouldn’t hurt anymore. I could be without this pain, this endless suffering. The darkness offered me solace, and I needed that now more than ever before. My chest felt like it was caving in, like I was slipping out of sanity. I felt like a stranger in my own body. The moment I closed my eyes and started to drift away from myself, I heard that voice, the voice I heard every morning and every night. It was soft but clear, “Loki, breathe,” she instructed as calmly as possible.

My eyes flew open and flickered around the darkness to see that the buildings had stopped burning. All that was left was the glowing coals. Her body was no longer next to me, and the pool of blood she had been lying in was gone as well. My heart thudded in my chest as I scrambled up to my feet. My chest tightened once more, and I felt as if I was suffocating, as if all the air had been knocked from my lungs. I spun around, looking for the source of that voice. I needed to see her, to know she was okay. When I couldn’t see her, I balled my hands up into fists and let out a roar of pure rage, “KILL ME!” I shouted into the void, falling into a pit of despair. I just wanted it to end. The pain was unbearable, and the moment I received an ounce of peace, it was snattched away. I needed to see her. I needed to know that my love was still alive, that I would still have the chance to make amends. I needed to know that her light wasn’t extinguished.

Suddenly, there was a faint light from behind me. I whipped my body around, and that was when I saw her. That was the moment my soul was returned to me. She stood-more beautiful than ever-surrounded by a faint glow. There was no blood, no screaming, no chaos, no stillness. She was alive. I closed all the space between us in the blink of an eye before falling into her warm embrace. I felt her touch and realized-as soon as I felt her-that this was real. She was in my head. She felt my distress and found my mind just as she had done so many times before. Now, she was across the universe, but she still managed to find me, to comfort me when I needed her most.

As she held me, the world started to fall back together. I held her like she was my only source of life, like she was the very breath I breathed. I held her the way I used to...before I tore our love apart. I held her as tightly as I could without crushing her slender body in my arms, “I thought you were dead,” I cried, unable to hold back the tears of pure joy and relief. Only moments prior, it felt like my world was falling apart, like it was being sucked into a vacuum, and I would go with it. Then, she appeared.

“Would that have been so terrible for you? I’d never pester you again,” she joked as I felt the radiant smile tugging at her lips.

I nodded my head, “it would be the worst pain I’ve ever felt,” I answered, burying my face into her hair as I broke down, “I thought I could take on the world without you, but I’ve never been more wrong of anything in my life. I need you, Eva, no matter how badly I want to deny it,” I confessed, clutching onto her, never wanting to let her go again, “I can’t lose you,” I sobbed, falling to my knees and bringing her with me to the hard cobblestone beneath us.

Still, she continued to hold me, intertwining our bodies so that we didn’t know where one person started and the other began. She stroked a hand through my hair, “I’ve never left you, Loki...and I won’t start now,” she whispered the same words she spoke to me when she was dying on Midgard, “I told you in the beginning that nothing...not even death itself could part me from you. I’m not going anywhere,” she reminded me, cradling my head against her shoulder. She soothed me as I cried, just as she always had, and when I began to collect myself, she pulled away just enough to gather my face in her hands. She positioned my head to catch my gaze, “just breathe, Loki,” she instructed, wiping the tears from my cheeks before caressing my face with her gentle fingers.

I leaned into her touch and closed my eyes, trying to focus every ounce of concentration I had left to the feel of her. I focused on the feel of the skin of her fingers against my cheeks. I focused on the warmth that she seemed to emanate, the peace I felt in her presence, and her light breathing. Eva was the one who always kept me grounded, so it was only fitting that I concentrate on her. Once I focused on her, everything else quieted, and we were the only two people in the universe. My breathing calmed, and when I opened my eyes, I noticed that the world around me was normal once more. The shops and homes were repaired, the quiet streets were lit by the sun above us, and every ounce of destruction was gone. This was her doing. Eva continued to stand before me, still and strong enough for the both of us. She must’ve known that my greatest fear was opening my eyes to be met with her absence. I needed time to adjust after what I had seen only moments before, and she would see me through.

“Ezra’s in your head, Loki. You need to push him out,” she stated, a frown tugging at her lips. We both knew what it would mean if I shut Ezra out. The act of closing the mind off to outsiders meant it would close it off to all outsiders, including the ones who meant no harm. It would mean that I would protect my mind against Eva as well, and she would be unable to appear to me for the time being. I shook my head, ready to argue with her. I would rather live in constant chaos with her than experience a moment of peace without her. Sensing my hesitance, she continued, “it’s a sacrifice you need to make, but I’ll come back.”

“Will you? Will you come back to Asgard?” I asked, hesitantly, recalling the contents of the letter she left for me, the one my mother delivered to my cell. For a moment, Eva became silent, searching my eyes for an answer she wouldn’t find. I knew that she wanted to ask why I would be so eager to have her return to Asgard when I was so brutal to her before. I knew she wondered what changed. In reality, none of my feelings for her changed, but my hesitance and fear to express them did. Instead of spoiling what I wanted to save for our in-person conversation, I cupped her face in my hands and pressed my lips to her forehead, lingering there for a moment longer than necessary. It became a habit after I murmured those three little words to her, and this was my way of reminding her that she still played the pivotal role in my life. When I finally pulled away, I continued to hold her head in my hands, watching as a stray tear streamed down her cheek. She smiled up at me, and it felt as if every planet in the universe suddenly aligned. What had I done to deserve this-to deserve a woman as miraculous as her?

She cleared her throat, trying to regain her composure. We both knew that this wasn’t permanent. She couldn’t stay. We both knew that she had to return to her own mind, to Midgard, to the people she vowed to protect, to the people I vowed to protect at one point. Howard would have killed me if he knew what I put his son through, and I would’ve let him. Eva’s determined voice broke my train of thought, “I have a stronger connection to you, and you’ve managed to kick me out of your mind on several occasions, so you can do the same to him. All you need to do is focus, breathe, and take back your control,” she instructed me, wrapping her arms around my neck, “I believe in you. I always have, and I always will.”

“I need you to come home when you’re finished on Midgard,” I confessed, allowing her to see into my broken heart. I knew the abilities she had. I knew she would be able to sense my distress over her absence. Even if she wasn’t gifted in ways no one could explain, she could still sense that pain in me. I felt lost without her, and I knew she felt lost without me. We both had time to search for our purpose, and our search always led us back to each other. As soon as I spoke those words, her eyes flickered up to meet mine, and I saw myself in them for the first time in so long. She still loved me. She never stopped. Neither did I. That was my secret. That was what I couldn’t tell her, at least not like this, “you belong here...with me.”

“I promise you, Loki, that I will come back to Asgard once I’m finished here,” she promised, sounding more sure than just about anything else she ever told me. She furrowed her eyebrows, “why, though? Why now?” she asked, the question finally surfacing after she packed it away only a moment prior.

Upon hearing the question, I rested my forehead against hers and closed my eyes, basking in one last moment of peace with her. I clenched my jaw, and the atmosphere around me changed. When I opened my eyes, she was gone, and I was back in my cell amongst the filth. As a stray tear streamed down my cheek, I found the courage to answer her question, knowing that she wouldn’t hear it, “because I still love you.”

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superwholocklmt · 6 years ago

Text

Chapter 2

Thank you for all of the support with this story! I am blown away by the response and feedback I have received! Please continue to be honest with your opinions! I would like to apologize if I don't remember to tag everyone! By the way if anyone wants to help with a title of the story I would appreciate it!

Chapter 2 Sherlock's shoes clicked against the linoleum floors of the emergency room at Saint Bart’s hospital. Stealing a glance at the clock on the wall for the eightieth time, he groaned.

"2 and a half hour and still no word."

He shook his head, attempting to clear the recent visions of John in pain. He had screamed in agony the entire ride to the hospital. The only time he wasn’t in pain were the precious moments of relief brought on by being unconscious. Sherlock clasped his shaking hands together tighter willing them to stop, while waiting for word on John.

‘How long had this been going on? How could he have missed this?’ he wondered as he searched back through the last few days. John hadn’t been his usual self, but he chalked it up to being tired. He had picked up extra shifts at the clinic the last 3 weeks. He shook his head in disgust. How could he have been so blind?

He contemplated approaching the nurse’s station again to inquire about an update. Instead his pocket vibrated with an incoming call.

"Lestrade?"

"Mrs. Hudson called and told me what happened. How is John?"

"I don't know. They haven't provided an update. I’ve been waiting in the waiting room."

"Ok. I'm down in the garage. I'll be up in a minute." Sherlock dropped the phone back in his pocket as he resumed his track around the waiting room.

Lestrade soon made his way around the corner and sighed when he saw the detective. The last 2 years with him, had taught him to not come between him and the good Doctor. He too had come to find John valuable to the work they did.

“Sherlock,” he called as he approached him worry etched on his face. “I got here as soon as I could.”

“Thank you for coming.” “Always. So still no update?” he said as he watched the detective grow agitated.

“They won’t let me see him! George! I need to see him!” Sherlock shouted as he continued his pacing.

“It’s Greg.” Lestrade corrected with an eye roll. “I’ve already spoken to the head nurse on my way up. John is in room 305 and we can see him.” Sherlock paused in mid stride and stared at Lestrade.

“I asked 5 minutes ago, and they wouldn’t let me see him.”

Lestrade grinned a little in spite of himself.

“By asking you actually mean insulting them? They said that you were acting like a raving lunatic….”

“Oh, dear god! How many times do we have to go through this I’m a high functioning….” Sherlock exclaimed throwing his hands in the air.

“Sociopath. Yes! We know but you need to be nice to them.” He mimicked, then turned serious.

“I’m really sorry this is happening to John.” He offered as Sherlock nodded.

“Thank you. I’m not sure what to make of this.” He stated. Lestrade raised an eyebrow in confusion.

“Well John must be rubbing off on you for me to get 2 thank yous.” He chuckled at his attempt for humor. Sherlock’s lip twitched enough to resemble something of a smirk before fading away.

“Have you noticed that he’s been acting…different?” Sherlock asked uncertainly.

“Well he seemed a little off his game. I just chalked it up to him getting sick.” Lestrade admitted as he turned and began to walk to the room. Sherlock frowned as he followed him down the hall.

“Something is not right about all of this.” He stated as they made their way to the room. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The constant ringing in his ears was unbearable as John felt his senses returning to the present. He blinked a few times and attempted to focus and all but cried out in pain. Every breath he took seemed to rip apart his chest and he couldn’t take a deep breath. He settled for taking small breaths, as he attempted to reassess his situation. ‘I must be in hospital.’ He arrived at the conclusion as he eyed the IV in his forearm. The room was dark and comfortable as he shifted slightly in the bed to look around. His eyes came to rest on Sherlock at the end of the bed. His friend was asleep sitting in the chair with his head resting on the bed. How he hadn’t disturbed his friends slumber was lost on him as he settled back in the bed. He cautiously raised his arm to reach for the cup of water to soothe his parched throat. Without warning, white lightening shot through him and he couldn’t suppress the howl of pain. Sherlock immediately awoke and turned his attention to his friend. “John?” He said anxiously as he came to sit by his friend eyeing his friend’s features until he was satisfied that the pain had passed. “Are you alright?” John nodded slowly as the ache began to fade and his breathing became more stable. “What caused the pain?” he said as he handed John the cup of water. “I moved.” John grumbled. “That was all it seemed to take.” “Am I at Bart’s?” he asked after finishing the cup of water and feeling a little bit fresher for it. “Yes. You collapsed at the flat and were complaining of chest pains.” Sherlock said carefully as he attempted to gauge his friend’s reactions. “You exhibited symptoms of a heart attack at the flat and here, however your EKG looks fine and your blood work came back in good standing although you should really keep an eye on your cholesterol….” He rambled before looking at his friend again. He opened his mouth to continue, joke obviously falling very flat, but decided against it and closed it. “You need your rest.” Was all he decided to say. “What aren’t you telling me?” John whispered as his brow creased. He sighed and thought carefully before speaking again. “The doctors don’t know. They simply don’t know.” “What do you mean they don’t know?” John grumbled as he struggled to speak and sit up. Hot pain shot through his chest again and his head felt light as his hand shot out and gripped Sherlock’s shoulder. “John! Tell me what’s happening?” Sherlock said with alarm. John just shook his head. “Hurts…Chest on fire….” He said breathlessly. Sherlock nodded and began reaching for the call button when Johns hand stopped him. “I’m…. ok” he panted as he struggled to make the room stop spinning and catch his breath. His brow was covered in small puddles of sweat as he fought the darkness threatening to take him again. He needed to know more. He needed to know what was happening to him. “You should lie back down. You need to relax.” He said as he gently laid a hand to John’s shoulder and encouraged him to lay back. “The doctors are going to keep you overnight so that they can monitor your condition. We will get answers John I promise.” He said softly as Johns eyes grew heavy. “Sherlock…don’t go…please?” John mumbled as the darkness claimed him. Sherlock checked his friend’s pulse and breathed a sigh of relief as he determined that he was alright. “Get some sleep John.” He whispered as he watched John slip away before returning to his chair by the bed.

@janeofcakes @ceceliajupe @jhamishw @absentmindedsstuff @ithinkthereforiamfandom @ithinkthereforeiamaswell @zentris @pri1982

#johnlock #sherlock #john #BBC Sherlock #lestrade

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