#and i thought about adding how i live in fear of Ella saying i did a word wrong 😔

[channelrat]

space.. 😳 you are sooo scary ah ahh

HAHDKSHSDKSJS ELLA GET OVER HERE WE'RE DOGPILING IN 4 MONTHS

[mzjmesa]

Out Loud | Chloe Decker

She was a good detective. Is. The pride of the office, the officer praised here and there. Your partner. Your bestfriend. Detective Chloe Decker. It wasn't because of her smart, genius mind that attracted you to her, no. Well, sometimes, anyway. But it could've been alot of reasons, loving Chloe Decker. And you would've loved any other reasons— to make this easier, to make the feelings disappear sooner. Because whatever the attraction was, it was unprofessional— Chloe never did unprofessional. And you fear if you couldn't hold it any longer, she'd run away from you.

You can't bear that.

But you loved Chloe either way. You loved her eyes, her kindness, that bright and knowing smile that goes with her eyes, you loved the way her lips part when she's about to say something defensive— you loved her. You loved her the most when she knocks at your door and asks how you're doing. You loved the late night talks and laughs about freshmen days which was rare, because she never spent so much time in highschool, she got unending stories about it anyway. You loved the way she listens. You loved her. You loved Chloe Decker. And as she passes by your desk, to the man she likes, you reminded yourself that it was wrong. Wrong because you were supposed to be happy for her.

A knock on your desk drifted your thoughts away, Dan. “How are we doing?” he asked, if he'd caught you staring enviously at Chloe and Lucifer, he hadn't mind.

“How are we doing?” You repeated stupidly, still hungover from yesterday. Which by the way was Chloe's fault, you just wouldn't admit it to yourself.

Dan shrugs, “Yeah? I sent you files to look at, remember?”

Oh.

You shake your head as though it would help you focus on the present and tried to remember where you had placed the papers. You checked your drawers, trying hard to block out Chloe and Lucifer's voices. You busied your hand flipping through dozens of papers, vividly remembering the file's name.

Jonathan Flinn's. Ahh. Case closed for 2 months, there wasn't much evidence of the murder, but the majority linked to him, and eventually the court pronounced him guilty. There had been questions left unsolved, and if Espinoza wasn't up to anything, it would've been left at that.

You sighed, “Have you talked to Chloe about this?”

“Yeah,” He looked past your shoulder to where Chloe was, then back to you. “she thinks it's a bad idea.”

Of course she did. You did, too. That was a thing between you two, something about your guts always telling you the same what's what. That's why you were partnered with her, and you would've loved to continue being one (although truth be told, you still were in papers anyway) but she'd found a consultant, a batshit crazy one at that. Lucifer Morningstar. Always telling himself he's the devil, going on and about his everyday life like anyone gives a damn, and always making everything about himself. If he wasn't charming, and a ‘friend’ of Chloe's, you would've hated him. Most times you did. But times when Chloe was down, he was always the first to cheer her up. You used to be the one doing that, until he came.

“You should listen to her, Dan.”

“Oh c'mon! I would've agreed with Chloe and wouldn't have come to you if it weren't so important. His mother is my god—”

“—mother. Yes, yes, I know that, Dan. I know you think this is a good idea to pay her back, too. But it's not, trust me. Trust Chloe.” You exhaled, feeling the weight of her stare on your back. “It could go worst anyway, what when we can't find any evidence or if we do, worst case scenario is it'll only lead to him. Again. We'll just worsen his situation.”

Dan sighed, massaging his jaw with exasperation because he knew you were right. And also because as much as he pretends not to care too much, he does. You loved that about him.

As you heard footsteps behind, you handed back the files to Dan who hid it behind his back, masking his irritation with a smile to Chloe.

You ignored her, lingering your eyes on the missing button of Dan's shirt.

“Ella found some prints, we haven't identified it yet but it's likely our lead.” Chloe started just behind you, and you knew Lucifer was beside her as much as you hated it. “In the meantime, Dan? I'd like to discuss to you about the Flinn case, Lucifer and I went back to the crime scene yesterday. We found nothing.”

Dan frowned. “I thought you said it was a bad idea.”

“I know, I know. I... ugh... well I went over it again, anyway.”

A small smile creeped on his face, and you were almost sure his eyes were watering when Lucifer jumped on the conversation about his father, bla bla bla. You couldn't care less. Chloe did, and that should be enough for Lucifer. She'd always been enough for you. You bit your lips, wishing you could busy your hands with something. Anything. But your desk was on your back, and oh, Chloe, too.

It felt immature and all, but you were hurting just knowing they were together, seeing them would break you.

“I'll check in on with Ella.” Chloe announced, “(Y/N)?”

“Are you having a stroke Miss (L/N)? Staying still like a trained robot, you're scarying me— and believe when I say I rarely get scared.” Lucifer added.

Oh you believe alright. And robots are trained?! Trying to hide your feelings with a forced smile, you turned around, making sure you weren't going to make an eye contact with a certain detective, and immediately grabbed a random paper and pen you can hold— scribbling anything. Anything at all.

“I'm alright.” You answered after a beat or two, still unbothered to look. Who would want to, honestly.

Chloe cleared her throat, whispered something to Lucifer, and then bid goodbye. It was then when you looked at them walking away. Lucifer's hand on her back, Chloe looking small beside him— your chest aching the same, if not, more.

You're definitely not gonna look again.

-

You had a week off work, and you'd almost fell to your knees thanking God when the lieutenant told you. You needed it more than you needed Chloe, which proves just how important it was— Chloe had been. Still is, by the way.

It was 8 am, by now Chloe would be at her desk, examining or making reports, or on a crime scene with Ella and, Lucifer. You snapped out of your mind, reminding yourself you'd needed the vacation because work and particularly Chloe had been stressing you out and very much so hurting you.

You'd hit the beach, go to the mountains for the view,— you didn't wanna hike though, you needed rest not making sweats— visit your sister and niece, and then finally bake while blasting Taylor Swift because admit it or not, you're much broken than your grandmother's vase.

When the water was hot enough, you took a bath and dressed. A peach-colored tank top that comes along with a brown mini skirt and a coat was your outfit for the day. Only, the coat reminded you too much of Chloe's. She liked coats. And that coat, back then warning you that she'd steal it eventually. So you changed with other coats, just didn't fit well with the shirt and skirt, so you gave in and left your hair untouched and untied. Grabbing your pouch and your gun— a licensed one, just in case. And opened your door. You would've preferred the bright sky and fresh air of the morning in LA. But Chloe Decker was standing there, fist on air as if she'd been ready to knock.

You froze.

Were you having a stroke? Most likely.

“(Y/N).”

“Chloe.”

Wasn't she supposed to be at work? You didn't mind either way, but it surprised you still, she hadn't been visiting much since... Lucifer. Everything's just been different since he arrived, not in a good way for you.

You stepped aside, not saying anything since you figured out a human wouldn't understand any word that comes out of your mouth. She went in, instead of sitting on your couch like the old days, she lingered on the living room, standing and looking at you.

Most times you hadn't mind.

She started, “How are you?”

“I'm good.”

“No, (Y/N). How are you?”

You didn't know what to say. Or why she'd ask a question as that. “I'm not—”

“Do you like me?”

What.

Your face must've given the shock, because she answered your unasked question. “Dan said some things. I'm-I'm not— you're not transferring, are you?”

Oh you're definitely gonna choke the life out of Dan. But knowing him, he wouldn't have spit it out too easily. He was probably drunk and didn't mean it. Still, you wished you said it to Chloe yourself. About the liking and transferring.

You remained silent, reading the expression on Chloe's face. Was she sad? Upset? After years of knowing her, you would've known right away. But now you couldn't. And you fear you might've forgotten the every detail of her face, too.

“(Y/N)...” Her voice gave out, carrying every sadness within. “Why didn't you tell me?”

“About what?” You answered stupidly in a whisper, fearing that if you came into your senses everything would feel too real.

“About everything! About— about your feelings for me. About Seatte. About why you've been so far from me!”

“You have been far from me, Chloe.”

She frowns, and you knew millions and billions and gazillions of questions where popping in her mind.

Tears in your eyes were forming, and you hated it, all of this. She wasn't supposed to know at all. She wasn't supposed to know you had immature feelings for her. Wasn't supposed to know you were transferring atleast 'till next month. But Chloe wasn't dumb, and you should've known that.

Chloe swallowed the lump in her throat, her breathing heavy. “We could've talked about it.”

“We haven't talked much at all these days because of—” you cut yourself off, rolling your eyes at how sick it feels. You hated yourself for it, but you continued anyway. “Because of Lucifer.”

She exhaled. “Lucifer and I are complicated.”

“I know that, Chloe.” You said firmly, meeting her gaze pitying you. Of course she pities you. “I also know you like him so much. I know you've been crying when he fake married that Candy. I know you've been sick worrying when he can't answer your texts or calls. I know you've gone lengths trying to understand him. I know. I know so much so that I didn't wanna be so selfish and tell you things you didn't wanna hear because it'll make your complicated relationship with Lucifer even more complicated. I fucking know. And I loved you too much.”

Chloe's tears were beginning to fall, one by one, slowly. And it hurts you to see her like this. Especially because you know you caused it.

“It was never my intention to push you away. You're my friend— can't we just stay like this?” She asked in a soft, breaking voice. And if it wasn't Chloe you would've said yes because people are easy to move on from. But it was indeed Chloe and she was... not like anyone you know. She was a missing piece of your puzzle. Only, you have never been a piece of hers.

“I love you, Chloe.”

It was weird, saying it out loud, to her. You never thought you could, knowing you were a coward than every cowards combined.

You did though, and that must've pulled something. Because Chloe approached you, side hugged, and then left.

So much for a vacation.

You spent the night crying.

Chloe Decker spent hers with the man she loved. And you were never that man.

[spookysmujer]

Family is Forever, O. Diaz

Summary: The past comes to haunt  you and your family with Oscar.

warnings: angst, domestic!Oscar, swearing,physical abuse, attempt sexual abuse, child endangerment

word count: 4.8K

requested by @alliemariee15

a/n: Thank you for requesting and being so patient! This sweetheart requested this a month ago and has been nothing but understanding, so thank you so much! I went harder than I intended to with this, hehe. Also big thank to everyone as I’ve hit 1K followers!!! Please don’t forget to follow this blog, heart/like/reblog my content as well as leave some comments, pretty please :) Also turn on the notifs for when I post something new!

taglist: @clemmingstylins0n @fairygardenss @firebenderwolf @spookysnena @princesstiffxoxo @mbaku-babygirl @chellybear98 @multiyfandomgirl40 @i-just-wanna-live-gc (please let me know if you wanna be added or removed!)

(gif belongs to @merakiaes 🌟)

A life long dream of yours since freshmen year in high school was to move somewhere along the East Coast and for sometime that was the goal that you were working hard towards. 

And then Oscar Diaz happened. It was sophomore year when he ‘claimed’ you. You weren’t so into him as much as he was into you but he never stopped trying to get you and by some twisted fate of luck, he got you. Not long after officially dating, you got pregnant with your son, Abel. It didn’t matter that you were only 16 or the fact that Oscar had joined a gang. You two made it work.

That was 6 years ago, your son has grown into a very intelligent little boy. He is a carbon copy of his dad at that age, his thick black locks that are curled on top of his head has to be your favorite feature of his. You hadn’t got to see Oscar with hair like so since he’d already been sporting the shaved cholo look from when you two began dating. 

A lot has happened over those 6 years. Both good and bad. 

It was only a few weeks into summer after graduating high school that Oscar was arrested for drug possession. It completely wrecked you. At that point it seemed obvious that he would be the one you’d spend the rest of your life with. All that seemed to shift on the night when the police knocked on the door. The loud, echoing pounding and a 2 year-old Abel seemingly frightened. 

When Oscar opened the door he didn’t try to resist arrest for he knew this day would come. You held your son close to your chest as he called out for his papa.

You took him to visit Oscar whenever he’d ask and let him talk on the phone with him every chance you got. Nothing could get between you and your family, not even prison. And when he was released after 4 long years, the heavens rejoiced and so did the two of you. With lots of rolling in the sheets. 

That’s why you’re now in a PartyCity store looking for the right unicorn balloons for your soon-to-be 4 year old daughter’s upcoming birthday. When you found out you were pregnant again only 2 weeks after Oscar had been released, the both of you laughed, not surprised one bit. It was no secret that you wanted more kids together so it was fate to add a little girl, whom you named Ella, to the mix.

“Ma, can we go now? We been here forever.” Abel sighs as you make another round in the same isle you were in just a few minutes ago.

The corners of your lips lift as you know he has your patience, which is zero to none. He’s been a champ for most of the morning but once you had been running back and forth between stores, he began to lose his patience quickly.

Your daughter sports a mean muggin’ face, much like her father.  “I wan mah balloons!” She is standing in the cart, staring at her brother. The look of ‘I am going to get my way’. Abel only rolls his eyes and groans as she turns to sit in the cart and look at which balloons she wants.

“Cute kids.”

A voice sounds from in front of you, you smile and turn to thank the stranger but you are met with no stranger. A very familiar face. One that put you through hell, one that definitely was not suppose to be within a 100 feet of you. 

When Oscar was in prison you were absolutely loyal to him. Not once did you lose faith in your relationship. Even when you had your hardships such as the times Oscar got doubtful that he would never get out, he’d ask you to move on. Though it was never a thought at all. You share a child together, you’re bonded for life.

But to the streets if your man is serving time then you’re fair game. That’s just how they ran things but to hell if you were gonna let that happen. That never stopped other dudes trying to get with you. And there was one particular one that never stopped trying, Tomas. He became obsessive with you. He wanted you, he wanted to be the man that Oscar couldn’t be for you at that moment. But you never gave in because for you Oscar was it.

“What are you doing here? You know the obligations of your restraining order.” The calmness in your voice shows no fear but you know the lengths he’d go when it comes to you.

Tomas only chuckles to himself as he digs his hands in his pockets, “That expired this morning at 10. But I’m just visiting some homies, ain’t know you’d be here.”

You watch him intently as pull your son closer to you. Thankfully Ella has her back to you so you could have a hold on her should he try anything, “Yeah well, I don’t want nothing to do with you so I think it’s best if you just go on about your day and your life far away from here. Oscar has been out for a while now so I wouldn’t be so stupid and try something.”

He takes a few steps forward which makes you automatically step back, one hand locked on your son’s shoulder and the other on the shopping cart. “Calmate, I’m just passing through, preciosa.” A chill runs down your spine as he caresses your face with the back of his finger making you flinch.

Abel grabs onto you and holds you tightly as Ella watches the man stand close to you, “Mama, who is this?” She asks excitedly as she pulls herself up from sitting. You look to him and her as he turns towards your little girl.

“Hi, I’m Tomas, a friend of your mom’s. And who are you?” Your heart rate is increasing, your nerves are scattered all over the place, worried something may happen. Your daughter’s curiosity has worried you since she could talk.

She smiles as he waits for her answer, “Ella, it’s my birthday soon! I’ll be this much!” Ella holds up 4 little fingers and covers her mouth with her other hand, laughing due to Tomas’ pretend shocked expression.

“I have to go. Please stay away from me and my family.” You hoist your son into the cart, despite his protests that he can walk. You step back quickly and spin the cart around.

Ella is complaining that you didn’t get all the balloons but you hush her. After checking out you ask a worker to escort you out. He kindly helps you load your car as you get your kids in.

“Answer, answer, answer.”

You’re chanting quietly to yourself as you pull out of the parking lot to head home. Your heart is thudding in your chest like wildfire, you need to hear Oscar’s voice, even if he says he is busy you just want to have his calming voice soothe you.

A few rings in, “Hola, mamas. Where are you?” 

You slump back into the seat, his voice on the sound system has an instant effect on you. You exhale a deep breath, “Papa, it’s me! I miss yew!”

Ella shouts and you smile as you hear Oscar laugh, always so happy to hear their voices, “Mija! I miss you and your mano, where are you guys?”

“We just leave the store! I meet mama’s man friend.” You quickly shush your daughter and hang up the phone call. You can’t be mad at her because it’s not like she knows better or the fact that you forgot to tell to your kids not to mention seeing Tomas to their dad.

She whines that you ended the phone call, “Babygirl, you can’t tell daddy about that man, okay?” You look in the rearview mirror to get a look at her as she has her arms crossed over her chest and gaze away from you. “Mija, look at mommy please.”

When she finally does take a look at you, she keeps her lil Spooky face on, “That was mean and papa will be mad you did that.” 

“I know, I shouldn’t have done that. Just don’t talk about that friend we saw because then daddy will be really mad at mommy. Please?”

Ella’s features soften a bit and turns happy when you tell her that you’ll stop to get ice cream on the way back home. Both kids cheer with happiness as you pull into McDonald's drive thru. 

Oscar has sent some texts asking about the abrupt end to the call and what Ella was going on about, but you made up the excuse that there was terrible reception and that she has been spilling nonsense since this morning. He brushes it off and you sigh in victory.

You finally get home, very weary of your surroundings though you don’t think Tomas would be so naive to try anything knowing you were with the Santos leader. Oscar gets home not long after you, thankfully he didn’t bring up the phone call and you went about your night.

“Com’n son, time to bathe. Vamanos.” Oscar calls out from the hallway. Abel stands but moves slowly from the living room, so focused on the big screen, “Abel!” Your son scurries off. He is always last to shower because he is so glued the TV all the time.He has learned what comes next if there is a 3rd time being called. “Coming!”

The stress of Ella’s birthday is taking a toll on you because she is a very specific little girl and the slightest detail on a decoration will have her stomping her feet and pouting her lip for days. You’re definitely raising a perfectionist. 

Oscar stands in front of the bathroom mirror as he uses a razor to clean up his facial hair as well as to keep an eye on Abel who loves to let the bath get too bubbly or he’ll doze off and considering it’s nearly 10 PM, it’s a possibility. 

“How was shopping with Mama today?” Oscar asks as he zeroes in on getting a clean cut. Abel doesn’t answer right away as he ponders telling Oscar about his whole day or skipping on the part about meeting Tomas and how you were not so happy about it.

With Abel as the older child he is more aware. Unlike Ella who couldn’t pick up on the unsettling feeling Tomas had given off, Abel knew that this man was trouble. And his dad always taught him to protect his family. Family is forever and is the most important thing. Always to protect his family if his dad couldn’t.

“It was okay. Ella was whining, papa. She didn’t like the balloons mama picked out at one store so we had to go to a whole other store! I was tired of looking at pink and purple unicorns. Then that man that came up to us was..” 

Abel stopped talking as he realizes he let it slip out. And Oscar heard him loud and clear. He waits for Abel to continue talking but nothing comes from behind the shower curtain. Abel begins to cry, scared that he’ll get you in trouble. Oscar opens the shower curtain to see his son with his knees to his chest, sobbing.

Meanwhile, you are oblivious to what is happening. Your son keeps his face hidden as Oscar reaches to turn off the flowing water and sits on the side of the tub, watching his son. What is he afraid of saying that is making him this anxious?

“Abel Cesar Diaz, what’s going on? Hm?” Oscar taps his sons knee and the big, dark orbs that resemble his father’s peer up. Oscar can be the typical Hispanic father that tends to be disciplinary but he has learned that talking helps a lot as well.

So Abel explains to his dad what happened at the store with your friend. About how you didn’t look like you wanted him around and how scared you seemed. He explained how the man looked at you and how he didn’t think he was good news.

The veins on Oscar’s neck and forehead begins to bulge the more his son explained about Tomas. Oscar is aware of who he is. When he was in Corcoran his homies always kept him up to date of the streets. And it upset him when he had to hear about this pendejo from the Santos rather than from you. But after you two had a heated conversation over the phone, your next visit you explained. And when Tomas kept persisting you, you finally had a restraining order and more protection from the Santos until Oscar got out.

Oscar comforts his son and tells him that he isn’t upset with him. “Hey, you protected your mom, so you did your part and I am proud of you.” He helps him get dried off and ready for bed. After tucking his son in, he checks on Ella who is softly snoring on her bed. He smiles that she has finally gotten use to sleeping alone. He closes their bedroom door and stands in the hall for a moment, sighing and wiping the tiredness from his eyes, making his way to you.

You’re hunched over the table looking over a tablet that carries the plans for the birthday party as well as thanksgiving since that’ll be in a month. “Want a beer?” You ask Oscar as he sits across from you but he waves you off.

“Tell me about that stunt Tomas pulled today.” 

Your eyes meet his and you freeze for a moment. Your chest is rising and falling as you try to figure out something to say, “He ran into us at the store. I told him to leave me alone and that’s all that happened. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I just..”

Oscar’s jaw clenches as you stare at him, your heart skipping each beat the longer he stares and doesn’t say anything. “And you didn’t tell me again because? Had to hear from Abel. Again, Y/N? Someone is bothering you, you tell me. You let me handle that shit. That’s why our call suddenly ended? Making the kids fuckin’ lie to me too?”

His anger is beginning to bubble over. You take slow breaths to keep your temper under control. With the past couple days you’ve been having, you had no energy to start arguing back. “I never told them to lie, I asked them to not mention it. It’s not lying, technically..”

“Oh, don’t give me that shit. Don’t be technical with me, that puto should know better than to be approaching you and even my own son could feel how much he bothered you. It’s a good thing I’m raising my son right to protect his mama.” Oscar stands and paces the kitchen.

“Babe, I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you..again. I had no idea that he would be there, you think if I knew that I would have went out today?” 

Oscar leans against the counter, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration, “I don’t know why I didn’t hear anything from the compas. Everyone knows, including him, he got a target on his head for what he did. This is why I tell you carry that gun in your purse. My kids were there. And I love you to the fuckin’ end, amor... but had something happened to one of them, a bullet would be in your fuckin’ head.”

He leaves you in the kitchen by yourself and you’re shocked at his words. Oscar has been a dad since he was a teenager, since the two of you met. You knew the lengths he’d go for Cesar, but for his kids? He’d take out anyone including you as he stated. You let out a shaky breath. 

You decide to give him sometime alone. He’s the most upset you’ve ever seen him and he is rightfully so but you weren’t sure how to fix it. You do what you think any man cannot resist, seducing them. At least this way you can ease into him forgiving you.

But when you enter your shared bedroom he is tucking his two kids in on your bed. You quirk your eyebrows up in confusion. Did he know you well enough that you’d use seduction to get his forgiveness? Oscar turns to see you standing in the doorway, “Why are the kids in here?”

“Heading out, I want them by you while I’m out.” He is shuffling around the room gathering things. The usual: keys, phone, wallet, gun, extra mag. You watch him as he looks to you, “Where exactly are you going, Oscar?” 

He breathes out through his nose and that’s enough for you to know. You don’t open your mouth to bicker as he is standing in front of you now, looking down at you with eyebrows creased together, “He ain’t getting near you or my kids again. Don’t leave the house or room, lock the bedroom door and don’t unlock it til I call you.”

Oscar steps away but stops to turn and pull your face towards his.He presses his lips to yours. You melt into it instantly, your hands grasping his forearms. The kiss deepening for a moment as your hands move up to cup his face. When he pulls back you are breathless. Craving more.

Then he is gone.

The house is quiet as you lay awake waiting for your boyfriend to return. Your fingers running through your son’s hair. Something you love to do and Abel loves you doing it too. Ella not so much though. She’s a verbal lover rather than a physical lover, the thought making you chuckle. How different your two kids are.

You’re pulled from your thoughts as you hear some shuffling from the living room, grabbing your phone you wait for it to ring with Oscar’s name but it never does. So you call out to him, “Babe?”

When you get no response you climb out of bed and quietly tip toe towards the bedroom door to get a better listen, maybe he is testing you to see if you’d listen to what he said about not unlocking the door until he calls. 

The buzzing of your phone pulls your attention and you see Oscar’s name pop up with the cutest picture of him and the two kids. You sigh in relief, unlocking the door and stepping out to an empty hallway.

“Oscar?” You call out and switch on the light but he isn’t there. You click the answer button and bring the phone to your ear. “Babe?”

“Hey, this puto is hiding, still nothing just checking on you. The kids still asleep?” When the words leave his lips, you close your eyes and feel a tear slide down your cheek. When you open them, Tomas is standing at the end of the hall, leaning against the wall watching you.

You hold the phone to your ear as you watch him put a single finger close to his lips signaling to be quiet about his presence. You could tell Oscar about him, then you could run to the room and lock the door. Quickly hide the kids in the bathroom for their safety and tell Abel to call his dad because so long as your kids are safe that’s all that matters. But what if he is quicker than you? What if he goes straight for the kids?

“Snoring like bears per usual. We’re okay, just be safe and Oscar?” You pause for a moment as Tomas gives you sickening, sinister look stalking towards you until he is standing right in front of you, his hands brushing against your exposed waist as you’re in a crop top. “Si?” Oscar answers you.

Tomas’ hands grab your chin and lifts it for you to look up at him, “When you find him, put a bullet right between his fucking eyes.” Tomas smiles and swipes his thumb on your lower lip, making you flinch.

Oscar chuckles, “You’re turning me on, mamas. Not much of him will be left. I’ll see you soon, te quiero.”

“Te quiero.” You say in a whisper as the line cuts. You try to step back but Tomas is quick, as you suspect he might be. He grabs ahold of the back of your head and into your hair. He pulls it back roughly with his body now pressed against you. “You have no idea how much I still want you. I think of you every single night. I remember how close you were to giving it to me. Hm.. you remember how badly you wanted me?”

You want to throw up, the feeling of him against you and his words makes you feel repulsed. His grip is iron-like and he is not letting up not until he gets what he wants and it’s obvious he wants you.

“P-please. M-my kids, let me close the door. Just let me at least close it.” Your bottom lip is trembling uncontrollably and the tears have been spilling over since the phone call with Oscar ended. He analyzes you. Are you trying to make an escape? He walks forward, pushing you back towards the bedroom door. And with his free hand reaches back to close the bedroom door, you look over shoulder at your sleeping kids as the door closes. Sending a little prayer for their safety.

He grabs your face and plant a sloppy kiss on your lips. You drown under him, not knowing how to win in this situation.

“So what do you do now?” 

Oscar voice causes his chest to vibrate which is right up against yours. He has your arms pinned under his, “Hm, I kiss you to distract you!” You tilt your head upwards to plant a chaste kiss on his lip. He smiles into the kiss and pulls his head back, “You gonna be kissing random dudes who run up on you, hm?”

You can’t help but laugh as he gives you a mischievous look. “Well if it works for me to distract them long enough, then yes!” Oscar rolls his eyes and nods his head to proceed with his defense lesson since you weren’t so keen on firearms, he’s teaching you physical defense.

“Fine, fine. So let’s say the kiss does distract the perp, if you have him in this kind of position? Jab here with all your might.” He points to his side right below his rib cage. “There’s a nerve that’ll cause them to tense up and give you a few seconds. That’s when it matters the most, those few seconds. So think before you do.”

You look at the spot Oscar had pointed to, you jab your fingers there and he tenses up like he says would happen. He curls over and you step back and laugh, making your quick escape.

That moment plays in your head. The kissing is a distraction, he has one of your arms pressed against him and it’s the perfect opportunity. Then the thought of how you asked Ella to pick up her toys that laid on the kitchen floor earlier infiltrates your memory as she never did considering she fell asleep.

You allow him to seep his tongue into your mouth and when you do, you feel him release the grip on your hair. This is the moment. With your fingers pointed, you dig your hand into his side, right below the rib cage and he retorts back. The same way Oscar had. You use your shoulder to push him into the wall which gives you enough space to move away from him.

Tomas recovers quicker than you hoped. So when you were going to leap over the pile of toys, hoping he would trip over them, you feel a grip on your hair once more and you’re sent flying back. The pain stinging your scalp, you yulp when you hit the ground. He is on you and his body suffocating you, “You stupid bitch! Pull that stunt again and I promise you’ll regret it.”

His hand hits your cheek and you cry out as you try to get him off you. The fear setting in as his hand reaches to his belt, the clinking of the metal making you terrified of what is to come next.

But it’s the sound of a gun cocking that stops Tomas trying to unbuckle his belt. He looks back towards the sound just as you do too. You’re heart breaks into a million pieces to see you 6 year old son holding a gun in his hand. His grip on it perfect, ready to fire. His stance, arms out and legs spread apart ready for the recoil.

“Son, go back in the room, please. Just go back to your sister.” Your voice trembles as Abel keeps his eyes on Tomas. In the moment, he resembles his papa more than ever. 

Abel shakes his head no, “Get off my mama. I know how to shoot a gun and I’ll shoot you, get off her now!” He sounds like his dad too, you can only sob.

“Mommy?” Ella’s voice sounds from behind Abel. Which distracts him. Tomas takes this opportunity to get the gun away from Abel, “No!” You cry out.

Despite the ache in your body, you sit up and jump on Tomas’ back just before he can reach your son, Ella is screaming scared as Abel runs to his little sister and stands in front of her. You hold onto Tomas with all your might, the strength of a mother is like no other, “Abel, go! Get your sister and run, baby! Run to Tio Cesar’s friends house, go!”

Tomas manages to get you off and slams you back into the wall. The blow stunning you, you have the wind completely knocked out of you. The back of his hand hits your face which causes you to fall over. You cry out as you see him step towards your kids. The fire of the gun sounds and Tomas cries out in pain holding his arm.

“Y/N!” You hear Cesar followed by footsteps. He is kneeling besides you as the Santos enter the house to check it out. “My babies, are they okay?” 

“Mama!” Abel calls out as he drops the gun and runs to you, you hold your arms open to embrace your son. Your brave baby boy. Fearless much like his father. Ella joins quickly and you squeeze them tightly.

They sob in your arms as you sit on the floor, the pain radiating throughout you numb from the love your kids are giving, “Y/N! Baby?!” Oscar’s voice booms through the house as he approaches you. He pulls Cesar away as he falls to his knees besides you. His arms envelopes all 3 of you.

Ella turns into her father’s chest, he can feel her thudding heartbeat. Tears stream down his face as he felt he let down his family but as the Santos grabbed the injured Tomas and dragged him out of the house, both of you sigh in relief that the worst is over.

“Mijo, you did it again. You protected your family and papa is so proud of you. You..” Oscar can’t form anymore words as he hugs his son and plants kisses on his head. You stand from the ground and use Oscar’s arm as support.

“Cesar take the kids to the bathroom, make sure they’re okay, por favor.” The younger Diaz nods and whisks away the little ones. Oscar pulls a chair out for you to sit, he kneels in front of you and examines the damage.

You look to him, eyes feeling puffy from the crying, “I’m sorry, I didn’t listen. I put our kids in danger and you’re right, I should have a bullet in my fucking head. I’m sorry, Oscar.” Your head falls as you sob hard, the hyperventilating causing hiccups.

“Baby, none of that shit matters. My kids are okay and you are now. He can’t do anything to hurt you anymore and I promise, you didn’t do nothing wrong. We’re lucky we’re raising a smart boy. I love you.” He wipes your face dry with his shirt and stands, pulling you into his warm, safe embrace.

You all take a shower and cuddle into the bed. Abel and Ella rest in between you and Oscar, embracing each other. Ella has her tiny head on her brother’s chest, forever his sister’s keeper. Oscar sighs as he intertwines your hands together, you look up at him as he gives you a soft smile.

This morning you woke a happy family and tonight you lay down a stronger one.

[recollins]

hi! can you do one of reid and he has a secret girlfriend/fiance/wife (idk your choice haha) that the team doesnt know about then something happens to spencer (hospital maybe) or the team meets her by chance and everyone is surprised and start piecing together why reid declined to go out all those times and stuff? you have free reign over this drabble I know it'll turn out great anyways! thanks!!

Of course! This is so cute! Sorry, I know this took a hot minute, but I apparently don’t have the ability to write short drabbles (and of course my internet went out for like an hour when I was ready to post 🙄). I hope you don’t mind it went a little long, hopefully you enjoy this!

Pairing: Spencer x Female Reader Words: 3,531 Content: Fluff Warnings: Knife injury, stitches Masterlist

--

The tentative hand tugging on your pencil skirt was right on time. With a smile, you sat the stack of book returns on the shelf and turned to smile at your favorite visitor. As soon as she saw she had your attention, June held up the most recent book you’d recommended to her, beaming as she said excitedly,

“Zero found his mom! I was happy he was gonna live with Stanley but now he has his her too!”

“See? And you were worried it wasn’t gonna be a happy ending,” you teased the enthusiastic seven-year-old as you crouched down to her level. “Did you like it?”

June nodded enthusiastically, her blonde curls bouncing wildly with the movement. “I loved it! I would’a been so scared with all those lizards though! I don’t know how Zero and Stanley were so brave!”

“It’s not easy to be brave, but doing the right thing can show you that you’re a lot stronger than you might believe,” you told her, and to your surprise you saw uncertainty clouding her soft blue eyes.  

“Miss (Y/N), do you think I could be brave?”

You nodded and reached up giving her chin a gentle squeeze before you stood. “You already are. I mean, you walk here from school every day by yourself. That’s pretty brave, if you ask me.”

To your surprise, June dropped her eyes and gave her small shoulders a dismissive shrug. “I’m not as brave as my big brother. He can climb all the way to the top of our tree and I’m too scared to even go past the first branch.”

As you did every Wednesday, you rested a hand on June’s shoulder and led her with you over to the children’s section of the library. Instead of instantly taking her to seek out a new book for the week, you led her to the reading nook and nudged her towards one of the chairs as you sat across from her.

“You remember Dr. Reid, don’t you?” you prompted, and June’s smile flickered back to her face as she gave an eager nod. How could she not? Spencer had come by the Story Circle – a kids book club you hosted every Saturday – and had eagerly joined in on your discussion of that month’s book, The Hobbit.

Though not [as] gifted as Spencer Reid (honestly, you didn’t think anyone else really was), June was an incredibly smart little girl and read well over her normal age group. It turned out that The Hobbit was one of her favorite books, and she and Spencer had spent hours talking about it after the club had ended.

“Well, he’s an FBI agent. Remember?” June nodded again. “Do you think he’s brave?”

“He is,” she confirmed instantly, and a smile came to your face. “He’s probably the bravest person ever!”

“I think so too,” you admitted, grinning back at her. But you think your brother’s pretty brave too, huh?”

June nodded, a little slower this time, trying to figure out the point you were about to make. “But he’s not an FBI agent like Dr. Reid.”

“He’s not. But he can still be brave, because there are different kinds of braveness in the world. Dr. Reid goes out and finds bad guys, and your brother can climb trees and not get scared.” June’s brow furrowed as you added pointedly, “and you walk all the way to the library by yourself. Everyone’s brave in their own way, but Dr. Reid’s bravery isn’t any different from yours. They’re all just as important, and all just as impressive.”

June’s smile took up her whole face, and to your surprise she hopped off her chair and rushed over to hug you tight. You laughed and hugged her back as she said, “thank you Miss (Y/N). you know what?” You pulled back and raised a brow at her in question. “You’re just like Gandalf. You’re wise and you always say things that make other people feel better. Like he does with Bilbo!”

You laughed with her as you got to your feet, taking her hand to lead her towards the shelves you wanted. “So then does that make you Bilbo?”

“Uh-huh. And Dr. Reid is Thorin, ‘cause he’s really smart and clever, but he’s really nice too. And he’s a leader. And he’s probably brave enough to fight Smaug.”

“I bet you’re right,” you agreed, already looking forward to telling Spencer all about this tonight. He loves little kids, and knowing June thought about him so highly would definitely make his day. “You know, speaking of bravery and dragons… I think I know a good book for you this week.”

You paused at the end of one of the aisles and knelt down – June following your movement – and you tugged out a book you’d been waiting to recommend to her. She took your offering and studied the cover as she read out,

“The Two Princesses of Bamarre?”

“Yep. Do you remember reading Ella Enchanted last month?” June nodded slowly. “This was written by the same author. It’s about a little sister who has to be really brave and go on an adventure to save her big sister. There’s dragons, ogres, and fairies in this one.”

June’s eyes widened with every word, and as you both stood she peeked up at you. “And true love?”

That was what the two of you shared – you were both hopeless romantics.

“Would I give you a fairytale story without that?” June giggled and shook her head. You nudged her gently back towards the reading nook, knowing her mom wouldn’t be by to pick her up for another hour at least. “I’ve got to finish putting the books away, so you get started on that and see if you like it, alright?”

“Thanks Miss (Y/N)!” she said eagerly, already cracking the book open on her way. You just grinned and shook your head as you headed back to the books you’d left on the shelf. The front desk phone ringing hadn’t even caught your attention, and you were just grabbing the books again when the other librarian Amy came bustling over to you, handset held out.

“It’s Stafford Hospital asking for you,” she whispered, and instantly your stomach flipped. Why was a hospital several cities over be calling for you? Warily you took the handset and said,

“This is (Y/F/N) (Y/L/N).”

“Miss (Y/L/N), this is Nurse Lesser from Stafford Hospital. We’re calling you because you’re listed as the emergency medical contact for Spencer Reid.”

You nearly dropped the phone, sucking in a sharp breath as your heart skittered to a stop. “Oh my god, is he okay?”

“I’m sorry ma’am, I’m not able to go into specifics right now, but if you’d be able to come down and speak with –“

“Yes, yes, I’m on my way,” you said quickly, already racing for the front desk. As soon as the call ended you practically threw the handset back to Amy as you grabbed your purse. “I’ve got to go, I’m so sorry. I’ll see you later!”

Amy didn’t even get a chance to respond before you were booking it to your car.

The normally fifteen minute drive to the hospital took you less than ten; you’d be sure not to ever mention how many traffic laws you’d broken to get there so fast. Not that you really cared about that, though. Your mind was in overdrive, heart stuttering painfully against your ribs, lungs refusing to let you get a full breath. All you could hear was emergency medical contact for Spencer Reid.

Heels and all, you practically sprinted through the ER parking lot, desperate to find out what had happened. You and Spencer had been dating for just about five months now, and though he’d listed you as his contact as soon as you’d made things official, this was the first call you’d ever gotten for it. You knew dating an FBI agent came with risks like this, but you really hadn’t been prepared for the instant panic and fear that came with knowing Spencer had been hurt.

Once inside, though, you had no idea where to go or what to do. Maybe you should’ve thought to ask that during the call, but you’d flown into panic hyperdrive and had been on a one-track-mind purpose of getting to your boyfriend as fast as possible.

You paused in the lobby for several moments, looking around desperately until you spotted someone that looked like a nurse.

“Excuse me!” you called, racing after him. The young man paused and looked back at you as you asked quickly, “I-I got a call. I’m an emergency contact for a patient –“

“Which patient, ma’am?” he asked, glancing down at a clipboard in his hand.

“Dr. Spencer Reid. He’s with the FBI, I don’t know – they wouldn’t tell me what’s wrong –“

“I’m sorry ma’am, he’s not one of my patients. If you want to wait in the lobby –“

“You don’t understand. I need to know – can you just please find out where he is? Spencer Reid. R-E-I-D. They just called me –“

“I’m sorry, did you say Spencer Reid?” a woman asked from behind you. As soon as you were distracted the nurse practically bolted from your side, but you were too busy studying the group of people behind you.

The woman who had spoken – a petite, beautiful blonde – was coming up to you, confused concern on her face. You recognized her instantly from Spencer’s description of his team, and for a moment you worried he’d be upset. He hadn’t wanted you to meet his coworkers just yet – and certainly not like this – but right now that didn’t matter.

“You must be JJ,” you started, not missing the blink of alarm she gave you as she nodded slowly.

“Yeah… I am. I’m sorry, who are you?”

Oh, right. That had probably been a lot creepier than you’d meant.

“No, I’m sorry. That was super weird of me. I’m (Y/F/N) (Y/L/N), Spencer’s girlfriend. He’s told me all about you guys.”

JJ and the others behind her all made noises of surprise. One of the men you recognized as Derek Morgan actually choked on his coffee as he spluttered, “I’m sorry, you’re what now?!”

Heat flooded your cheeks when you realized everyone was staring at you like you’d just sprouted a second head. Nervously you brought your hands together in front of you, fingers twisting together as you repeated a little quieter, “um, I’m Spencer’s girlfriend?”

“Spencer has a –“ a beautiful dark-haired woman scoffed, mouth hanging open as she tried to think of a way to finish that sentence. She must be Emily. “I had no idea Spencer had a girlfriend.”

“Surprise?” you offered, almost instantly cringing at how stupid that was. Thankfully, one of the older men seated behind the others gave an amused snort. Derek, Emily, and JJ all turned to stare at him as Emily asked incredulously,

“What, did you know about this, Rossi?”

“Of course not,” the man – apparently David Rossi – scoffed as he nodded at you. “But unlike you all it doesn’t surprise me that our resident genius would be dating a beautiful librarian. It doesn’t get any more Spencer Reid than that.”

Your cheeks were burning now as the others made noises of agreement. The last man to speak stepped forward and held out his hand to you.

“As I assume you already know, I’m Aaron Hotchner.”

“Spencer’s unit chief,” you confirmed, shaking his hand. “Though I never pictured it like this, it’s really great to meet you all finally.”

“It’s great to know you exist,” Derek quipped; Emily smacked his arm.

“You don’t know why Spence is here?” JJ prompted, and the surprise of meeting your boyfriend’s team flickered out the moment you remembered why you were here. At the look you gave her she said quickly, “don’t worry, he’s fine. He was cut by an UnSub we were chasing and he needed some stitches. We’re just waiting for the doctor to give us the clear to see him.”

Rossi patted the chair beside him and invited, “you’re more than welcome to sit with us, if we haven’t scared you off.”

“Of course not,” you smiled, taking him up on his offer and settling beside him. The others gathered a little closer, clearly ready to learn more about you. Derek wasted no time on jumping into the questions.

“So (Y/N), how long have you and Reid been dating?”

“Five months on the 18th,” you told him with a smile. His eyes widened in surprise and he made a noise of absolute shock.

“You’ve been datin’ for almost half a year and we didn’t know you existed?!”

“Um, surprise again?” you offered, getting a snort out of JJ this time. “I’m sorry. Spencer said he was waiting for the right time. He wanted to give us time to get comfortable with our relationship and make sure things were serious, and then things have just kept coming up. He definitely didn’t want to spring it on you like… well, exactly like it just happened…”

“He was going to tell us at the Halloween party, wasn’t he?” Emily asked you, and at the bewildered head nod you gave her she explained, “he was insistent we would all be there, and when we had to fly out on a case he was really upset. I thought it was just because he has an unnatural love for Halloween, but…”

“Wait,” JJ cut in, snapping her fingers. “When we invited him to lunch last week and he’d said he had to return a library book…”

The team around you ahh’d as they all chuckled. You looked around, still not getting their amusement, but thankfully Rossi caught on to your uncertainty.

“Reid’s been acting dodgy with us lately, and we’ve all been trying to pinpoint it. I can honestly tell you it’s a relief to know he’s in a relationship, not the mob.”

“You’re the only one that thought that,” Emily started, and from behind her, Aaron cleared his throat.

“No he wasn’t.”

The others turned to give him incredulous looks as JJ asked him, “you actually thought Spencer Reid was in the mob?”

“Hey, you and JJ thought he was in a fight club!” Rossi defended, and this time you had to snort.

“A fight club?” you laughed; Emily just offered a shrug as JJ said,

“He had bruises on his – oh.”

Ah, there was the burning in your cheeks again. The others laughed as Derek rubbed his hands together, looking around.

“Guess this means you all owe me your bets.” At the noise of protest around him, he said quickly, “I was the closest! I said he was crushin’ on someone!”

“You guys had money on his caginess?” you asked them with a bemused laugh. JJ, Rossi, and Hotch gave you apologetic smiles as Emily argued,

“That doesn’t count. Garcia wins, she said he had a secret girlfriend.”

“That’s not even fair,” Derek grumbled, shaking his head and crossing his arms irritably. “How is it the only one of us that was right is the one who isn’t even a profiler?”

Before they could go any further a voice called out, “I’m looking for Spencer Reid’s emergency contact, Miss (Y/L/N)?”

Instantly you scrambled out of your seat, rushing past the others to the Doctor peering down at you.

“Yes, that’s me. Is Spencer okay?”

“Yes ma’am. I’m happy to report he’s just fine,” he assured, and the group around you all made noises of relief. “He needed a decent amount of stitches but the blood loss was minimal and luckily there won’t be any long term damage. He’s ready for visitors, if you’d like me to take you back.”

Though you wanted to see him you didn’t feel right stepping in front of his team. They were his family and he’d known them all much longer than he’d known you. But when you looked back at them, JJ and Emily ushered you to go first.

“Go warn him that we’ve met, because as soon as we see him, he ain’t livin’ this down,” Derek assured you, giving a playful grin. With a laugh, you just gave a nod and followed the Doctor back into the patient rooms.

Spencer looked up at the sound of your heels, a huge smile spreading over his face. Though you instantly smiled back, you made a noise of distress seeing his bandaged arm. Rushing to his side, you gingerly took his arm and held it up, running your fingers lightly over the wrappings.

“Baby, are you okay?” you asked softly, looking up at him in concern. Spencer smiled and reached out, cupping your face with his free hand and brushing his thumb over your cheek in comfort.

“I’m just fine. I’m so sorry, I wanted to call and let you know what’d happened, but I left my phone in the SUV. I know the call from the hospital had to have taken you by surprise.”

“You know…” you started, giving him a smile as you leaned into his touch. “Not as much as finding your team in the waiting room did.”

He actually gasped, his mouth dropping into a shocked ‘O’ as he stared at you in mild horror. “Oh no. I – I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t even think about that. I didn’t mean to throw you to them like that –“

“Spencer it’s okay,” you laughed. “It wasn’t what we’d talked about but I liked meeting them. Although apparently they were making bets about why you kept ducking out of things with them.”

He frowned, an adorable pout coming over his face. “They do that a lot. And they give [me] a hard time for being from Vegas…”

With a laugh, you finally let go of his arm and reached up, cupping his face with both your hands and pulling him down into a kiss. He hummed against your lips, the hand on your cheek sliding into your hair to hold you to him. Your lips moved against one another softly, tongues brushing briefly before you broke apart to keep from going farther.

“I’m really glad you’re okay,” you said softly, letting your fingers slide over his face to sweep his hair back behind his ears. “Did you catch the guy that did this?”

He nodded, a hint of pride in his soft brown eyes as he gave you a smile. “I did, actually. We managed to stop him before he killed a teen, and even did it without him taking his own life. He cut into me instead of his neck. It was close.”

You knew how bad that must’ve shaken him. Spencer had told you his hardest cases were the ones he had to watch someone take their life, almost more so than the cases with kids. To hear he’d been the hero warmed you to your core, and you knew exactly what would make him even happier.

“It’s funny, I was just telling June about how brave Dr. Reid was, and you go and prove me right.”

As expected, Spencer’s face lit up with a smile at that and he sat up a little taller. “You told her I was brave?”

“I did,” you confirmed. “And it’s been decided that she’s Bilbo, I’m Gandalf, and you’re Thorin.”

“I’m Thorin?” he asked in surprise, and you gave an eager nod. “Why?”

“According to June, you’re smart, nice, and clever. She’s a pretty perceptive first grader.”

Of all the things you loved about Spencer, his genuine humility was one of his best qualities. You knew he didn’t see himself for the incredible man he truly was, and watching the soft blush on his cheeks at June’s compliment warmed your heart even further.

Before you could sweet talk your boyfriend any further, though, you heard commotion in the hallway. The rest of Spencer’s team all piled into the room, with Derek in the lead, a phone to his ear.

“Oh yeah, baby girl. I’ve got him right here. I’ll let him tell you why he kept his girlfriend from us for five months.”

Spencer’s eyes widened as Derek held out the phone; he shook his head and Derek gave a deadpan frown. When Spencer refused again, his friend stepped up and pressed the phone to his face.

“No, Morgan, I don’t – oh, uh, hey Garcia –“

You could hear the squeaking of a very upset woman on the other end and you laughed along with the team as JJ and Emily came up on either side of you.

“So, (Y/N), how does dinner with the team Saturday night sound?” Emily mused, and JJ elaborated,

“We have about six months of embarrassing Reid to make up for, and Rossi makes a mean lasagna. You in?”

“Oh, I’m definitely in,” you laughed, catching Spencer’s eye as he rambled off a desperate apology to the phone in Derek’s hand. He raised his brows to you, silently asking, is this okay?

The smile and wink you gave him assured that yes, this was better than okay. This was as close to perfect as meeting someone’s family would ever get.

[amethystpath-writes]

P3 A Sculpture and Fate

Part 2 here

******

Briella would have never imagined she’d be delighted at the sound of a gasp- they seemed to signify an ending, like when one was stabbed and left to bleed out between an alley of the market all alone. She’d seen it happen before- witnessed Death claim a soul in the dead of night. It’s what made running from her home so difficult. Because if Death were so accustomed to her village, and those surrounding it, why wouldn’t they love the woods just as much?

And anyways, Death wasn’t the only dreadful deity in existence, for gasps could also signify shock and fear- such as Briella’s first night in the woods when she spotted her first tuft of fur. She had thought it to be a rabbit, but of course, it was not. Anyone would have thought this was the fastest she ever ran in her life, after seeing a wolf- one starving and more aggressive because of the fact- but this was not the case. See, it wasn’t until weeks of living in an old cottage that Briella experienced the feeling of her lungs collapsing in on her, when she sought for a sword nowhere to be found.

What a miracle it was, now, though, to hear a gasp- an intake of breath usually followed by such horrific connotations, but was, in this moment, only chased with delightful tears.

“I didn’t know if I’d ever see you again,” Mum cried. Briella could tell how genuine her mother was- not just by the hug and breaking voice, but also her greasy hair and cold hands. This happened when Mum was stressed, when she felt hopeless- like the world was out to get her.

“I’m okay,” Briella assured in a soft voice. In truth, she was still shaken, and unconvinced this moment was even real. How was it possible to be home after she had been running for weeks, after she had been chased- sought out for simply existing? Being home, in her mother’s arms…it was impossible, wasn’t it?

“Your father…” Mum trailed off with a heavy sigh. Suddenly, sighs were a dreadful thing once again, something that arrived just before the Bearer of Bad News.

“He left to save me, didn’t he?”

Mum nodded, stepping away from her daughter. Looking at Briella now, all she could think was, Goodness, child, you are filthy. Of course, Mum wasn’t in much of a better state, but her personal hygiene was less of a concern given how her daughter was in the woods for weeks on end, living on her own, living with a murderer on her trail. She shook her head in the disbelief and shock of it all. “How are you here, Ella?”

In other words, how had Briella escaped Vince? Where was he? Was he dead? Did Briella kill him? Did he never find her? Should she still be running? So many questions packed into one, and all Briella could say was this: “Sir Vince brought me home.”

This, without doubt, only created more questions, but what did it matter? There would always be more questions, more fear as time passed by and Briella still wasn’t dead.

What an awful circumstance- to fear every day you are alive. Sure, Vince decided to not kill Briella, but it didn’t mean he wouldn’t change his mind again. And it didn’t mean that possible change of mind wouldn’t be soon. Any breath could be Briella’s last…she almost wished she would have let Vince kill her.

“What do you mean he brought you home?” Mum demanded. “Are you sure you should be here?” She thought Briella was imagining circumstances, didn’t she? Thought her poor daughter was so deeply rooted into her own fear that she imagined everything working out when it didn’t.

Maybe it was a hallucination. Maybe Briella imagined that encounter in the woods- when Vince shoved her face in the mud and told her to find a sword. When she searched for her father’s weapon in the rotting cottage and found it in Vince’s hand instead. When she convinced him to let her live by telling him a story- a rather short story at that. And finally, when Vince took her home, or at least within kingdom territory. Maybe it was Briella’s hopeful imagination- to save herself, or to be saved at all.

“Well, I will not go back into the woods,” Briella finally said, snapping herself out of her own thoughts. She added, “Unless it’s to being Father home.”

Mum shook her head. “No. Absolutely not.” For another time, Ella was drawn into a hug, squeezed as if her mother thought she’d slip into the woods again.

“If someone doesn’t go after him, then he will stay in there forever.” They both knew this- both knew Father would walk through every inch of the woods to find Briella. He’d kill himself if it brought him closer to her, brought him closer to saving his daughter’s life.

“But you don’t have to be the one to find him, Ella,” Mum scorned. “You should have never been in those woods.”

“I would have been killed if I’d never gone in them.” Briella swallowed at the thought, and at the thought thereafter. Vince handled himself well enough in the woods. “I’ll ask my knight to go after Father.”

Mum pushed away again. “Your knight?” she questioned, tone like a knife. “I don’t care what Fate says, that man- if you can call him one- is an abomination, one Death should have stolen-”

“Fate put us together!” Briella sucked in a breath before apologizing. “I don’t like him any more than you do, Mum, but…well, listen, Mum. Vince-” Sir Vince, she thought to herself- “is the only person worthy of those woods who would walk in for Father. He’ll brave the woods for a fellow knight.”

“He tried to kill you because Fate bounded him to you. Why would he care for a runaway soldier- one that is your father? He’s doomed,” Mum said about her husband.

“I’m not going to let him die in those woods. I’ll die finding him, or I’ll die making Vince find him.”

“Or,” Mum ventured, “you can avoid dying at all. Lay down for tonight and we’ll figure out what to do in the morning, yeah?” Her daughter nodded. They went to bed.

***

Briella didn’t sleep that night, but instead left to find Vince in the barracks. It was a feat to enter- a feat to make herself appear like a measly squire running late after his knight. But when she made it in, she found Vince almost immediately. His eyes found her, and Briella could almost swear her feet were on fire. She wanted to run out the way she came.

“A moment, men,” Vince had said to the other soldiers which sat at his table. They were playing a game of cards, but now had to wait as Vince took Briella’s elbow in his hands, squeezing with all his wrath. He led them outside, where the breeze managed to push Briella’s hood off. “Unfortunate to see you made it home.”

It was clear how much anger Vince was holding back. If he had been in his own home and Briella would have shown up like this, she had no doubt he would kill her then and there. Right now, however, his men were inside, and they probably weren’t fond of soulmates killing soulmates.

“I need your help.” Vince spun on a heel. Before Briella could think about what she was doing, she put a hand on his arm- his arm which she now realized was bare…his whole chest was bare. Her eyes went wide, but she cleared her throat and dropped her hand. “Please. My father, he’s- he went looking for me and I know he won’t come back until he finds me. He doesn’t know I’m alive, Vin- Sir Vince.”

“You seem to be so fond of Fate- maybe if he is meant to come back alive then he will.”

“It doesn’t work like that and you know it.”

“Maybe I know and simply don’t care.”

Briella protested. “You do care- I know you do. However little your heart is, I know there’s an even smaller part of it that is crippling at the thought of not helping me.”

Vince crossed his arms, his head tilting down in a manner which told Briella he didn’t care at all to be standing. “Not at all.”

Shaking her head, Briella huffed. “What is wrong with you?” She said it quietly enough that even she could barely hear herself, but Vince was a wolf- of course he heard her.

“I don’t like being told who I should love.”

“You are a soldier! You take commands every day!”

Vince’s clenched his fists since his arms were already crossed tightly. “Quiet,” he warned. It wasn’t he who would be in trouble for Briella being here. It would be her- for pretending to be someone else and sneaking into the barracks. He warned her…because he was protecting her. Did Vince even realize it?

“Those commands are different,” he said. “Those commands serve to save lives, to preserve the kingdom. This”- Vince raised his crossed arms, gesturing to Briella- “is a different field of command- one that shouldn’t exist.”

“Why not?” she demanded. “Have you ever even thought of getting to know me? Maybe you would like me.”

“I could never.”

“Because you won’t allow yourself to!” Briella whisper-shouted. She sighed and shook her head, crossed her arms like Vince had done from the beginning. “I already told you that I don’t expect you to love, or even like me, but will you at least let me admire you for the soldier you are and ask for your help? Will you help me, Sir Vince?”

He considered her for a moment, looking her up and down, as if he were expecting Fate to reveal herself in Briella’s eyes. Maybe Briella would simply fade away and her image would be overtaken by the evil deity.

Vince looked at the night sky and his shoulders fell into a relaxed state. He bit his cheek.

“Come back at sunrise. Your father wouldn’t have gotten far without a horse.”

Despite herself, Briella opened her arms and enveloped Vince in a hug. “Thank you,” she said, and repeated, with tears lining her eyes in a burst of relief she could never describe, “Thank you.” Then? Her arms slid away. “Wait, what do you mean ‘come back’? You want me to go into the woods with you?”

“Maybe a wolf will attack, and you’ll be out of my hair for good.”

Briella squinted her eyes, swearing she saw a hint of a smile on the brooding knight’s face. As quickly as she thought it appeared, a definite frown took its place. “Go home. If you show up at sunrise like you just woke up, then I’m not taking you.”

“Is that right?” Briella dared to continue. “Me being sleepy should sound convenient to you- means I’d have less ability to defend myself if you decided to try and kill me again.”

He peered at her, brows drawn together. “You couldn’t fend me off if you tried.”

“Combat isn’t always physical, soldier. I talked you out of killing me the first time, remember?”

She didn’t watch for his response, or even listen for it. Briella turned her back on him- perhaps a daring act- and began to walk away. “Until sunrise, Sir Vince.”

[sleepmusicland-1]

Gone Chapter 4

Ella POV:

For 4 months now I was already in New Orleans, the De La Crux circle was more dangerous than I would have thought. They acted in secret, used the other circles to get their way and, above all, they acted against Mikaelsons. Something that had already cost many witches his life.

Something that had amazed me was that no one, neither Isabella nor her members in the circle seemed to have been touched by the fact that someone had died. Murdered, only by whom was not clear.

For exactly 2 months I lived in a small apartment, on the edge of the French Quater, why the witches left me alone, although I supposedly played such an important role that their ancestors had torn me out of my life, was a mystery to me.

But one thing I could do undisturbed, both on the Internet and in the library, looking for information about what an Earth angel was and what my gift had to do with it, because since I was here, I kept encountering deceased souls and could also feel the presence of other people, vampires, werewolves and witches, I knew exactly who was near me. Even though I did not know these people, I knew when it was a human being and when it was not.

The scent of old books struck me as I entered the library, Getrud, an 80-year-old who had made her love of books her profession, greeted me with a cheerful "good morning" and informed immediately afterwards how my day had been so far.

I had to get used to communicating with someone in my mother tongue, because when I was still living in my own world, I had only spoken Dutch, simply because there was no one with whom I could have German spoken and then I often had to speak English, because the companies I had worked for often had English as the only official language.

But Gertrud was simply happy that she could talk to someone in her mother tongue and so I had learned early on that she knew about the supernatural and was one of the few people who had never gotten between the fronts. Because no one bothered to ask the librarian what she knew and she knew a lot. But in my search for the meaning of the earth angel, she could not help me either.

Gertrud wished me "good luck" before she turned to her work, although more and more people no longer borrow books, the library was still received by a sponsor. She had told me this right when I first came here, and she was so proud of her library, the treasures that were just waiting to be discovered in it.

"Thank you", I thanked her and entered the library myself.

The room itself was large, on both sides’ shelves upon shelves, full of books of all kinds, the smell of old books, dust and for me knowledge was in the air. Ever since Isabella decided to find out more about Earth's Angels before she wanted to start the ominous training, which I still did not know what the training meant, it gave me time to find out how I got here and how to get back to my old life, because I was not satisfied with one that Isabella claimed I could not go back.

I did not believe her, I would tell myself about the same thing in her place, in order to prevent people from trying to get back home.

I had just walked between two books shelves as my neck hairs lined up, the tingling that normally crept from my neck over my back started this time on my stone leg and goose bumps told me that I was no longer alone, but it was not a spirit, it was a supernatural being.

How did I know it was supernatural beings and not a spirit? I had no idea; it was as if my gut feeling had improved so much since I was here that I had developed a radar for supernatural beings and spirits.

Said supernatural being in this was Marcel Gerard, one of Isabella's allies, and even though he did not know where I came from and what I seemed to be, he had not even tried to get to know me better, as if it was enough for him that Isabella had said that I was important for her plan, whatever that plan was.

Because she had not told me that, I was supposedly the key to making an old prophecy come true, but how exactly she planned to prevent it was a mystery to me.

"Ella, right?" he spoke to me and seemed to let his charm play, maybe even worked for other women, but I was not like other women, like cliché, that sounded too. As an asexual person, it was not easy anyway.

"Yes?" I answered questioningly and did not expect an honest answer, but only an excuse why he was here.

"Someone wants to get to know you and he has a few questions, questions that Isabella does not want to answer", he answered me, immediately my neck hairs lined up, this someone wanted information from me. Maybe he even wanted to know where I came from.

And I could not say that I came from another world, where this was a series. That sounded stupid even to my ears, even if in my case, it was reality.

"Who is this someone?" I asked, I would certainly not go anywhere to meet some mysterious person who had questions that Isabella did not want to answer.

"Ever heard of Elijah Mikaelson?" Marcel informed himself and I somehow managed not to let my heartbeat beat treacherously faster than I heard Elijah's name. I still couldn't believe that the version I had seen on the show wasn't the same one I had come to know for a moment months ago. "Don't tell me anything, I'm not very good at remembering names," I answered him and that wasn't a lie. It took me several weeks from time to time until I could assign the names of the respective persons to their face and remember it.

"Don't worry, he just wants to ask a few questions, nothing more if you would please follow me?" Marcel asked me in a tone that did not tolerate any contradiction.

Elijah POV:

Marcellus took the young woman I had met in the cemetery a few months ago to the arranged meeting place, an old, abandoned church, where I could be surethatnone of the witches would eardrop on us.

I watched her body language, she appeared consciously confident and did not let herself be intimidated by her surroundings, she looked around and when her gaze fell on me, she seemed to recognize me again.

"What do they want?" she informed after the reason why she was here, no greeting, she got straight to the point. "Normally one greets his interlocutor" I answered her, where I did not miss that Marcellus was amused, since she did not adhere to the customs.

"Normally you don't get ordered to a conversation like they did," she contradicted me and slapped her arms on top of each other.

Either Isabella had not told her who she was dealing with, or she was one of those people who did not let themselves be intimidated by vampires, which in my eyes was not only incredibly stupid, but also dangerous.

"On the one hand, I would like to know where they come from, because they are not American," I answered her and she looked at me with her head tilted to the left, „The country where I lived or the country where I was born? Even then they don't get the answer they seem to be looking for, because my nationality is and will always be, Dutchwoman", she answered me, she was born in a different country than where she lived now? Where did it come from? What had Isabella done? The slight undertone of bitterness had not escaped me.

"May I guess that they were born in Germany?" I informed myself and Ella looked at me, "Because I have such a strong German accent?" she indirectly confirmed my suspicion that she had been born in Germany, to which Marcellus replied that he had German heard her talking to a few German tourists and that she had no accent, which made him suspect that it was either her mother tongue, or that she had lived in Germany.

And with that, she now knew that I had let her observe, but I did not know a detail of Marcellus's connection to Isabella at the time.

"Because I speak accent-free German, am I automatically born in Germany?" she asked and looked at me from Marcellus.

"This is actually the only explanation, because according to my contacts, they do not have a social insurance number, nor other documents to confirm their identity," I replied to her statement and observed her reaction, her heartbeat was calm, no signs that she was surprised by my statement or the fact that there was no documentation about the woman in front of me.

"The only explanation? I can think of ten other possibilities", she contradicted me, I was honestly amazed at how often she contradicted me and showed no fear.

"But why am I here? Why am I being executed here?" she added, and it amazed me how good her pronunciation was, because she had indirectly confirmed that English was not her mother tongue.

But I did not let this be noticed, a sign of weakness and your counterpart took advantage of it for their own goals. "I want to know what exactly Isabella is up to, especially because when I first found her near the Bone Mausoleum, the mausoleum that is only used for the witches of New Orleans when it is very important," I explained to her the reason why I had ordered her and commissioned Marcellus to bring her here.

"And I should know why? Ask Isabella herself, I'm not a witch and I have no idea what the meaning of whatever mausoleums have, which as you yourself have already noted, I don't come from here, so how am I supposed to know what exactly any mausoleum has for a meaning", Ella answered me and for the first time I noticed that she was wearing a chain, she was wearing several pendants on a black string, but I could not see which pendants they were.

For the moment I pushed my observation aside, there were more important things, especially because Ella really did not seem to know what Isabella had used the bone mausoleum for.

"Can I leave now? Or do they want to know more?" Ella hinged slightly annoyed, her attitude had changed, instead of standing bored leaning against one of the old banks, she stood upright, and her attitude revealed that she perceived something, we were no longer alone.

Could it be that she was paranormally gifted? That would be the only explanation, because their attitude had changed and not only, I noticed the change, Marcellus had also noticed the change.

A click echoed deafeningly loudly through the old, abandoned building, for vampire ears it sounded noticeably clear and loud in the ears, for people ears it was not audible.

I would learn more about the mysterious woman very soon and discover an old secret...

[jaeyunluvs]

you’re mine - aron piper

Requested by @fashphotolife : yeah just like a hot jealous aron bc like ugh that’s probably hot 🥵Not really a specific request but just like a hot jealous aron Piper imagine

A/N: AHH I LOVE JEALOUS IMAGINES!!!!! Thank you so much for requesting! I saw many people doing the jealous interview thing, like buzzfeed interviews and stuff, it’s gonna be similar to that !

disclaimer: i don’t know any of these people personally, i made some characters up! english is my second language so please let me know if i have mistakes! :) also poor spanish, i’m sorry profesor

note: im sorry i used starbucks, pls don’t sue me that’s the only international coffee brand i can remember!  it’s unedited :))

word count: 1,5K

warnings: none but hot jealous aron is on his way ;) oh and crappy writing :’)

gif creds to @piperaron​ - <3

“Y/N! Come on! We’re getting late!” Your boyfriend Aron warned you at the phone. He was downstairs, waiting for you. You were getting prepared for the live interview with the Elite cast, including you. 

“Okay, okay!” you said on the phone and closed. You wore a white elegant dress and kinda revealing but you didn’t mind cause you looked amazing. When you ran downstairs you saw a curly head in a car, looking in your direction.

“Wo-w, hola carina” He stared at you, breathless. 

“hi babe!” You get in the car and kissed him on the lips. He still stared at you so you decided to speak up.

“earth to Aron! you there?” you stared at his brown eyes filled with love. He blushed and looked away kinda embarrassed.

“Lo siento amor you’re just to beautiful!” Now it was your turn to blush. He giggled, placed a kiss your lips and started the engine.

You wanted to stop and get coffee on your way. Aron wanted to come to get coffee with you. It was your local starbucks shop.

“Do you remember our first date was here?” Aron asked. You glanced and felt the nostalgia. 

“You were super nervous I can’t believe how you changed so much.” You answered smiling. He managed to laugh.

“Maybe you’re the reason why I’m changed” He stared at you. You giggled at his cheesiness.

“Hi can I get your order?” You and Aron were interrupted by a good looking employee asking for your order.

“Hi, can I get a Latte Macchiato please?” you asked.

“What’s your name?” He asked, looked like smiling.

“Y/N” you said not caring enough.

“I like your name just a pretty name for a pretty lady” he said not caring about the guy next to him. 

You were taken aback by the compliment with saying a simple thank you without emotion but before you could say anything more, Aron pushed you to his side, can’t tell that you guys are dating because you weren’t public.

“Careful big guy, she has a boyfriend and I’ll kick anyone’s ass if I see someone flirting with her.” He was raising his voice. You hold him down.

“Aron, Aron stop, stop, chill” you looked at him you knew he gets calmer when he looks you in the eyes. When he calmed down, you ordered for him. The poor barista was watching you guys on shock and fear. 

You paid and mouthed a sorry for his actions. He didn’t say anything just a weak smile. You hated when there’s a fight. 

Then you got your orders and when you were leaving Aron shouted. “My eyes on you” to the poor barista and he got so guilty in front of his customers.

You punched him in the arm. “Aron what the fuck? He was a poor boy, and we’re not public you know this is so normal.” You stated. Aron didn’t look at you just walked into the car.

“He can’t just flirt with a random girl especially you!” You held him by his wrist. 

“You know you’re the only guy for me right?” You looked at him with a serious expression. He managed to have a weak smile then continued to ride.

When you were on the interview set, Ester and Danna ran to you. 

“Hola bebe, we should get prepared. Hola Aron, go to the boys room.” Danna said. You waved your hand as a signal of saying “bye” and he did the same. The cast didn’t know you guys were a thing either.

You met the other female cast mates and had your make up artist prepare you. After preparing all the cast got into a room and sat around. You and Aron sat next to each other obviously. 

“Hello ColaStation watchers, I’m Amell Wilson and today, I’m here with the elite cast! we’re going to read fan messages and play “Who’s most likely to?”. Here we go!” He said cheerfully. 

Everyone introduced themselves and the interview started with “Who’s Most Likely To?” 

“Who’s most likely to be single?” Everyone pointed you and Aron. You both laughed. Amell, the interviewer smiled too.

“Who’s most likely to be rule a fashion company?” Most of the cast pointed you and you blushed. “You have a great taste in fashion, carina” Omar said, you thanked him by blowing him a kiss. One of a sudden, interviewer Amell commented “You do have a great taste in fashion Y/N you look beautiful.” He said. 

Aron was startled by this comment and you noticed this but ignored it because everyone was here.

You played the game for awhile, laughed, had fun together. By the interview continued you could see Amell watching you. Aron noticed and cleched his fists but couldn’t do anything.

You eventually had a break after the first game. The cast divided, but most of them went to outside to smoke, including Aron. You and Danna, went to restroom and the preparation room before going back to Aron’s. While you were waiting for Danna outside, you saw Amell approaching you. Oh no you thought yourself.

“Hi Y/N”

“Hello?”

“Umm so I-” Amell was interrupted by Danna. Thankfully because you were getting kinda uncomfortable and you hated making Aron like this

“¿Qué es lo que pasa aquí?” Danna came and tied her arm into yours started walking. 

“No lo se, he came and talk to me.” You made sure. Your look on your face was explaining and Danna trusted you so she didn’t make a scene.

Meanwhile in the smoking session, the boys were talking about how Amell looking at you.

“No lo se porque pero, Amell can’t stop staring at her.” Miguel claimed.

“Yeah it is getting kinda weird” Alvaro started a little laughter. Aron wasn’t paying attention, jealousy was burning inside of him.

“Imagine Y/N, one of the most beautiful girl in the world not being single. I can hear the people crying.” Omar said. Aron just smiled and smirked.

“Like Y/N would date him.” Aron said sarcastically. Everyone looked at Aron and noticed how angry he was. They knew something was behind this.

After thirty minutes, the cast turned back to do the last activity, anonymous fan comments on the actors.

It started with Ester. 

“ ’Ester Exposito is literally queen she’s my idol.’ Awhh thank you.” She blew some kisses to the camera.

“’ Alvaro is so underrated, he is a great actor. Keep up! Love you!’ Thank you so much I love you too!” Alvaro smiled.

“ ‘Aron Piper is that lucky guy to make out Omar. Don’t you think? I’m jealous.’” Omar just laughed and mouthed a thank you.

“’ Aron is literally every girls’ celebrity crush at this point. Thank you Elite creators.’” Aron just smiled and thanked at the comment. When they handed the box over you, Amell continued to stare at you.

“’Y/N is that girl that I would literally die for, I’m so happy she’s single can you marry me?’“ 

“Hahaha he’s kinda right!” Amell laughed and added. And this was the end of Aron’s patience. He couldn’t help but said,

“Too bad she has a boyfriend” He laughed grasping your hand quickly.

Everyone in shock, can’t say anything.

“I KNEW IT!” Itzan shouted

“ALVARO GIVE ME MY 50 EUROS” Jorge said laughing.

You looked at them in shock not knowing what’s going on. Alvaro groaned and gave him the 50 euro bill.

“We get into a bet, I knew you guys we’re dating” Jorge showing you the bill.

“Honestly, it couldn’t have been more obvious but I’m still mad you didn’t tell me” Danna said pouting.

“You guys are so cute together.” Mina said. You were so happy with all the comments you were receiving by the cast. Their blessings were really important. 

“Now, that it’s public, take your eyes off of my girlfriend.” Aron growled at Amell. You can see he was getting scared. They stopped the live and some advertisements to calm down Aron.

“Okay Aron, I think we should end this live and go.” You said holding him. He looked at you, he couldn’t stand your eyes.

After a break, everyone turned back to the interview, but it was super awkward. Amell couldn’t look at any of you.

“Thank you for the dearest elite cast, and thank you for watching. Don’t forget to like and subscribe for more of this content!” Amell said and the turned the camera to the cast to say goodbye.

Aron waved and immediately kissed you on the lips. Everyone was cheering. When you ended the kiss and live, your phone blew up from all of your friends and family.

Sister: ARE YOU DATING ARON? HOW?

Best friend: It’s funny how I know it and everyone’s getting crazy hehe

Brother: I’M GOING TO KICK HIS ASS 

You laughed at all the messages you’ve been receiving, especially your best friend’s. 

After the interview, Danna hold you and forced you to explain everything and all the details about you and Aron. 

“SPILL THE TEA!” Danna shouted.

“Umm so we started dating 3-4 months ago...” You continued to explain while watching everyone’s jaw dropped. For a little while later, Aron came smirking to you.

“Hey ladies, mind if I steal mi novia, for a minute?” 

“No Aron, ella es nuestras amiga.” fought Claudia laughing.

You smiled at girls “I’ll be back in 5″ and they continued to talk.

Aron held you close, holding your hand, pulling you to his side. 

“You’re mine. And no one can ever take you away from me.” He said whispering to your ear with a serious tone. “Especially a guy like A- what Ameelllo?” He said making you laugh with a funny tone this time

“Congrats Aron, you ruined the moment. I said it once, I’ll say it forever, don’t worry bebe, another guy like ‘Ameeellooo’ could never make me crazy like you do. ” 

[ellana-ravenwood]

“What it means to be a big brother” - by Damian Wayne (Batfam x Fem!Reader)

I wanted to write a story with Damian as an older brother, and how he came to learn what it meant to…well, basically the title haha. And since quite a few of you lately asked for more Thomas, here we are. I hope you will like it :

My master list : @ella-ravenwood-archives . Links to stories where Thomas appears (for those who do not know who he is) in the author’s notes at the end of the story.

__________________________________________________

Right there, with his new little brother in his arms, standing in front of his family...Damian didn't dare to move an inch.

There wasn't a muscle in his body that wasn't tense.

In this exact position, things were going well, so he wasn't about to move. Staying like this forever sounded more and more like a good plan.

Because if he did move…There was a chance he’d drop him.

"You don't have to be so stiff you know ?"

Tim said, amused.

He was the one that was holding the baby just a few minutes ago, and was clearly not as stressed as Damian about it. He was also the one that laid little Thomas in his brother’s arms, and therefor was the cause of the “full body lockdown” Damian was going through.

Slowly, Damian turned his head towards Tim (he couldn't move too fast, because there was a risk he'd drop the baby !) and said through gritted teeth :

"Yes I do. If I don't, I might drop him !"

The word “drop” was resonating in Damian’s head, and it was the only thing he could think about.

Drop. Drop. Drop drop drop drop.

It was starting to lose it’s meaning, and only the fact that it would be terrible if he “dropped” something stayed in the boy’s head.

But then the baby moved, and Damian looked down instinctively.

His eyes fell upon his new little brother’s face and...He felt his heart drop.

What was this feeling ? Why, all of a sudden, did he feel overwhelmed and full of...something ? An emotion he couldn’t quite pinpoint.

It kinda made him want to cry.

His eyes glued to the little body in his arms, trying to understand this intense surge of emotions, he finally raised his head after a few seconds and said, a hint of disbelief in his voice :

“I’m-I’m a big brother.”

And boom. There it was.  

Up until now, you had managed to keep your cool, looking at your sons and daughter holding Thomas in turn, and beaming at him happily.

But here, that bewildered look on Damian’s face, and that smile he probably didn’t even notice he had on, was a little too much for your heart.

Damian was the one you were most worried about, when it came to meet baby Thomas. You weren’t sure how he’d react.

All along your pregnancy he was doing fine, and seemed excited about the prospect to have a new brother. But at times, when nobody was looking at him, you noticed the worried look in his eyes, and it frustrated you to no end to not be able to know for sure what your son was thinking.

You’ve always been good at deciphering the Waynes’ emotions, sometimes even better than them themselves. But in that case...You couldn’t quite put your finger on what kind of worries were assaulting your boy.

Was he afraid you’d love his little brother more ? Or that he wouldn’t be the “baby” anymore ? Maybe afraid not to be a good enough role model ? Or to simply to not find a way to bond with him ?

So many questions, and no answers. 

Maybe it was a mix of all of that. But you just couldn’t decide. And it was an immense source of stress for you.

But here, right now, as you witnessed Damian smiling widely and whispering “Im a big brother”, your own worries suddenly vanished.

You turned to your husband who was right next to you, and put your head against his chest, muffling a "awwwww" sound that you feared might put Damian on the defensive. Instinctively, Bruce wrapped his arms around you (this called for some “I know, I know they’re cute” support).

God forbid anyone would catch your little buddy being so sweet. Haha. He hated when you called him that.

Sweet.

But he truly was ? He just didn't know it yet.

You were sure no one ever told him he was "sweet".

But he had all this little attentions for you, his father or siblings. 

He might think of it as nothing, but you all noticed. You noticed all the drawings he’d left in strategic points for all of you. Or how meticulous he was in preparing pop corn or hot chocolate for movie nights. Little things, that when added, became grand. 

You noticed everything. All of you.

Most importantly, you noticed the big changes in him.

Damian was 12 now.

He came into your life two years ago and, after quite a while of him refusing this little family his father made for himself, and making life difficult for everyone…He came around. He understood.

And you never blamed him for being difficult at first, on the contrary. You were the most understanding of them all, scolding your kids or Bruce himself, when they were too unforgiving or frustrated too fast !

It was a team work, to make Damian feel like he was finally home. 

Feel like he was amongst his family. 

Like Dick, Jason, Tim and Cass were his siblings, and although you weren’t his biological mother, you saw him as your own son too.

It was a learning experience for everyone. 

Bruce did a great job at being patient, and teaching him about his own values and such. Forgiving him when he took the wrong decision, all the while still being strict. It was a balance of understanding, softness, forgiveness, and yet still putting important boundaries. Damian never really experienced any of this... 

Your kids had some practice at being older brothers, and only Tim needed an acclimating moments...But he was a fast learner. After the first initial bad meeting, they became close. Although of course, they still bickered from times to times. After all, they were little/big brothers. Everything couldn’t always be perfect. Life wasn’t like that. 

As you looked at Damian and Thomas, you wondered...Would Damian, just like his siblings, find his own way to become a big brother ? How would he proceed ? He had, after all, a lot of role model for this. But would he decide to take the same approach ?  

The future was more unknown than ever, but as you looked at your family surrounding you, and this new beaming little life that entered yours, you had quite the high hopes. 

************

"July 15th 20?? (I’m not putting an exact year cause ya know, it wouldn’t stay accurate). Thomas : three days old.

          I am starting this logbook to understand. I got the idea from Grayson, whom I think got the idea from mom ? I always see him write in that journal of his. I think when he was younger, after he lost his parents and just started to live with father and mom, she suggested to him to write his feelings down. And so he started journaling. He has a bunch of filled notebooks in his room. I saw them a few times, but I never looked. Mom says it’s his thoughts, I would never intrude (okay maybe I “intruded” once. Or twice.). 

         That’s not the point of this anyway. According to both him and mom, writing down their feelings help a lot. So I asked Grayson if he could give me a blank notebooks, since he always has some in advance. He gave me a stupid bright pink one that sparkles and light up in the dark...But oh whatever, at least like that, nobody will know it’s mine, and will open it.

         Now, what is the point of this exactly. Laying it out is suppose to help so, here goes nothing : in this logbook, I am planing to “write down my feelings” so I can understand. I’ve never felt that way before. Love is very new to me, people actually caring about me is very new, having a sort of freedom is new, being happy is new. I’ve come a long way in two years, and I still find it difficult to put words on all the things I feel. Hence, this book. 

          More precisely though, I will record in this “logbook” (not to confuse with a journal or something), my journey as a new big brother. I think it will help me, to write things down. The idea doesn’t sound as stupid as when I first heard it two years ago. On the contrary, I already feel like my brain is getting more organized about my feelings, just by writing this down. Like now, I understand that what I felt as I held Thomas for the first time was love. And a need to protect him. But it was so instant, as soon as I truly saw him, that it made me wonder...Why ? And How ? Is this what it is to be a big brother ? A sudden instinct coming out of nowhere ?

          I will implement my studies of becoming the best big brother (notes for self : competition = hard, have to work very hard), and understanding what it actually means to be one, as it’s a first for me. 

          My life now is full of “firsts”. But in this logbook, I will mostly talk about being a big brother to Thomas, because that’s the newest and most intriguing thing yet. After two years, I think I know what love is, and what it isn’t. It isn’t praising me for being the best, but encouraging me to always do my best. It isn’t training me and being proud of me when I’m perfect, but accepting my flaws unconditionally. Yes. I think I got love down. It’s in little gestures, like when father goes to the other side of town to get my favorite take away. It is in small (and sometimes big) affectionate things like calling me pet names, ruffling my hair, or making sure I am alright. Love englobes a lot of things (my feelings for Thomas being in it). It took me a while to understand it, and I think if I had a logbook to write my findings down, it would’ve been easier. 

          So here I am. Starting a new journey of discovery. But with the knowledge I already have. How my brothers and sister are with me. How my parents are with me. How my friends, are with me. What love truly is. I’m not starting this new canvas blank, but with already a large array of color. What I need now, is to make this painting my own.

*There is here a drawing of himself standing at the front of a large pirate boat, ready to start this “new journey of discovery”, with the annotation “I think Grayson would enjoy this analogy of being captain of my own boat, as in of my own destiny. He always enjoyed pirates”*

         A plan : 1. Get books on babies.                        2. Hanging out with Thomas.                       3. Observing how the others are interacting with him.                       4. There is no 4 yet. But there will be as I come along, I suppose.”

************

It all happened so fast. 

Bruce and the kids were about to go on patrol, when you started to scream at him that it was time. In a panic, you rushed to the hospital, leaving behind your children who anxiously waited for some news. 

Hours went by, and no news were given. 

Everyone slowly started to freak out, but Damian was the one who was touched the most. 

When Jason dared to tell him : “Hey buddy, no news mean good news, right ?” in an attempt to comfort him, Damian went on a rant about how this expression was idiotic and made no sense. 

No news meant a lot of things ! Like, maybe their father RECKLESS driving got them into an accident, or maybe there was complications with the babies, or they ran in any kind of troubles that prevented them to give news ! 

No news meant “no news” ! And was in no way, in Damian’s eyes, a positive thing ! 

It’s as Damian was going on and on about what could’ve gone wrong that could explain the lack of news, and starting to freak everyone out, that the phone finally rang. 

“Ah, see ? No news did mean good news.” 

Jason said ruffling his little brother’s hair. Although his apparent confidence was only a facade, because Damian’s list of “what could’ve gone wrong” really got to him too (he’d never admit it but Jason was quite the worry wart). 

But everything was fine now. He could joke, and tease his brother again. Because...

It was official, there was a new member in the family. 

Thomas Clark Wayne was born, on a sunny July day. 

************

Damian didn’t know how to feel. Or rather, didn’t know what he felt.

He knew that day was going to happen, he saw his mother’s belly grow. He touched it, and couldn’t help but share his parents happiness...but it all seemed so surreal at the time ?

Like the baby would come in a very long time ?

He wasn’t an idiot. Plus, he was already 12 now. He most definitely knew where babies came from (ew) and how they came to life (double ew). 

But even with this knowledge, he just hadn’t been able to visualize having a baby brother ? 

So when he found himself in the hospital corridors, following after his older siblings, running a little to keep up with their hurried pace, he wasn’t really sure what to feel.

What would he find in that room ?

Probably his mom and father, smiling at him, and holding a baby in their arms...

It was weird. Because Damian had always been the “baby” of the family. Was this spot now his brother’s ? How did that make him feel ?  What was his place now, then ?

He didn’t know. He didn’t know !

Did he still have a place ? How was he suppose to know what it was ? 

So many thoughts were rushing through his head, he didn’t have time to process any of them that they already were in the room. 

The first thing Damian saw wasn’t the newborn, as his brothers gathered quickly around his mom and father while he stayed a bit behind with Cass (who rolled her eyes a lot, whispering : “boys” every two seconds). 

No. The first thing Damian saw was his father. His smiling father. 

Given the looks his older brothers gave in his direction, Damian gathered that Thomas was in their fathers’ arms. And Bruce was smiling so widely. 

It was pretty rare, to see him smile. It only happened when he was with his family. You made him smile a lot, even more so when you both thought nobody was looking at you. 

Damian thought that it was the first time he saw this specific smile of his father. 

Thomas’ existence had created a new awe induced smile... 

Bruce was looking down at his tiny son in his arms, and was just smiling widely and...sort of like a child ? 

Like even when he smiled to his wife, or to his kids. Those actual genuine smile he gave them, not the fake "Brucie Wayne" persona ones. They were always very him ? They always had his past in it. When he smiled at them, they could see they meant a lot, because he was able to smile even through all his pain. And they were the one that brought his happiness forth. 

Bruce’s smiles to his family were grateful, full of pure joy, and recognition. With a hint of sadness, however. Of traumas he could never forget. 

But here, as he held Thomas, it was like he forgot everything, and was carefree for the first time since he was eight. 

Of course, it only appeared like that to Damian because he wasn’t quite sure yet about how he should feel. Happy, or jealous ? He never noticed the many times his father gave him that exact pure child like happiness and awe too. 

Bruce wasn’t always the best at showing his feelings, a lot of time, he would smile softly, full of love, in the way he was right now, only when he was sure no one was looking. 

He most definitely smiled that way to all his children, they just never had the chance to witness it due to Bruce’s own self-consciousness, and not being sure  how to handle his own feelings at times.

In that way, Damian and his father were very much alike. You often said so. They sometimes had great trouble expressing themselves. 

Which could cause great misunderstanding, like right now. 

As Damian witnessed his father smile this way for the first time ever, and wondered...

Wondered if..If Talia gave him to Bruce as a baby, would he have smiled the same way ? 

…Probably not.

It made Damian feel all sort of things, to realize that. 

Strangely, the emotions he felt weren’t negative. On the contrary, he was glad that his little brother was lucky enough to be born into this family he thought amazing, and would grow up immediately loved and never alone. 

Sure, Damian wished it would’ve been the case for him too. But you told him once that the past was the past, and it did no good to dwell on it (he was pretty sure you misquoted Dumbledore from Harry Potter but never said anything), and it really stuck with him. 

He would never be a baby anymore, hurting himself and his feelings thinking about what could’ve been was useless. It would only bring him misery. While thinking...Thinking about his new brother having this chance...Well, it made him very happy. 

He was glad, times were changing. 

“Do you want to hold him ?” 

You asked him, taking him out of his reveries about how he realized he only had positive feelings about this new life coming into his. 

Good feelings yet, but not enough to dare hold him. Panicked, he took a few steps back and said : 

“No ! No no, I’m good !” 

You tried to hide your disappointment, and instead gave the boy to your oldest son, Dick. You kinda wished Damian would’ve accepted to take Thomas into his arms. After all, his reaction was the one that worried you the most... 

************

It’s only as he witnessed all his sibling holding their new brother, and beaming brightly at him, that he felt like he wanted to do that too. 

He felt like he was missing out, because they all seemed to thoroughly enjoy holding Thomas ! And he felt like he was building unnecessary boundaries between him and his new baby brother. 

What if Thomas thought he didn’t want to be his brother ? 

Of course, right now, being only a few hours old, Thomas couldn’t think about that yet. But Damian read somewhere that infants could feel this sort of things. And so he turned to Tim, who was the one holding the baby boy at the moment, and said : 

“Can I-...Can I ?” 

Of course, Tim understood, and did not hesitate to put his little brother in his other little brother’s arms. He explained quickly to Damian how to hold him, making sure Thomas’ head was all good, and let go (later, he’d admit that he watched YouTube video to know the proper way to hold a baby). 

And the rest was history. 

“I’m-I’m a big brother.” 

************

“Friday, October 16th 20??,  Thomas : 4 months old. 

       I found books about babies. Many of them. 36 to be exact. They were in the library, I suspect father bought them to read up on how to take care of a baby. After all, he never had one, since we all arrived around 8/10. 

       I put in practice what I got from them, and was very successful doing so. Thanks to them, I was able to refine my studies on what it truly means to be a big brother. 

(...)” 

“Damian ?” 

Bruce was looking for you, and guessed you were in your office, which, just like the bedroom you shared with him, was right next to the nursery. Of course. 

He knew you must’ve been there at this time of the day because it was your “writing time”, but also Thomas’ “nap time”. In your office, you could make sure to be there for him quickly. 

Bruce had just come home and as usual, looked for you immediately. He had a tough day at Wayne Enterprise, and you always were his respite. 

But as he walked in front of Thomas’ room (where he was planning on going after seeing you), he was stopped in his track by the door being open, and quite an odd vision. 

Damian was standing next to his brother’s crib, an arm reaching out in it. As Bruce, intrigued, approached them, he noticed that one of Thomas’ tiny hand was wrapped around one of Damian’s finger. 

Before he could ask what was happening, his boy whispered, as to not wake his little brother up : 

“I read somewhere that babies need physical contact so their brain can develop well. A baby that nobody ever touches just doesn’t speak much, and isn’t as advanced as one who received affection. So I’m holding his hand.” 

Bruce’s brain went blank, as he looked at the extremely cute scene of his youngest son sleeping peacefully, holding his older brother’s hand. It was too much for his heart, trying to not sound choked up, he asked : 

“How long have you been here ?” 

Damian looked up, thinking, before he answered : 

“A couple of hours ?” 

“A couple of-That long ?!” 

“Ssssshhh. Father !” 

Damian whispered scolding his dad for his loudness. He gave a worried look to Thomas, afraid he woke up, and then turned to his father again saying : 

“I heard him cry, and recognized it as being his lonely cry. So I came. Mother fell asleep on her desk, I think she was just too tired to even realize he was crying. I know neither of you have been sleeping very well lately, so no one can blame her. You two work tough jobs, then do the vigilante thing, and have to take care of a baby who doesn’t sleep through the night yet. It’s understandable, to feel very sleepy. So I came.” 

Bruce felt it through his entire body. This warm, fuzzy feeling. The same one that he forgot for so many years, until you and Dick came into his life. 

“How did you hear him ?” 

“I rigged his baby phone to my phone, so it would give me alerts if he cries. Tim helped me develop a sort of app for that.” 

This specific feeling he only felt when looking at you or his children. A sort of serenity filling his entire body. Peace.

“I rocked him a little bit. He smiled at me a lot, and cooed too. And then he felt back asleep, but as soon as I put him in the crib he cried again. I figured he didn’t wanna be alone, so I stayed and held his hand, and he eventually fell back asleep. Now I’m too afraid to wake him up if I leave, so I’m here.” 

“So you’re here...” 

Pride was in Bruce’s heart now. A beaming, strong, huge pride. Pride of having such a sweet little boy. Ah. Who would’ve thought, over two years ago, that Damian Wayne would stay two hours near a baby in fear that if he left, he would wake him up ? 

Feeling inspired, Bruce bend down and kissed Damian’s forehead affectionately. This took the boy by surprised, and he literally gasped ! 

It made Bruce feel a little guilty. His sometimes odd way of loving made it so that he reserved those forehead kisses only when his kids felt bad, or when he through they were asleep (though they never were). Moments of distress; or moment he was sure they wouldn’t notice. 

Sometimes, Bruce just wasn’t too sure how to react with his children. Except on definite moments, like them needing him, or them being too cute for him to resist a forehead kiss (they were always adorable, sleeping). 

Or, in this instance, his boy doing something so sweet he felt the urge to kiss him with all the love and affection he had. 

Now though, a little embarrassed, he took a step back, and ruffled his son’s hair again, saying : 

“You’re a good brother.” 

And then he left awkwardly, going to your office so he could pick you up and go take a nap with you in your room. Yes. This surge of emotion he felt, as he saw his two youngest children together, definitely called for a nap in your arms. You always had a knack, to calm him, even unconsciously... 

Damian stayed in Thomas’ room, a huge smile plastered on his face. 

His father just said he was a good brother !

“(...) Continuation of the previous entry (October 16th).      I put in practice what I got from them, and was very successful doing so. Thanks to them, I was able to refine my studies on what it truly means to be a big brother.

      Now, after four months of studying Thomas’ behavior and such, I came to realize that he has different kind of cry. They are as proceeded :  1. High pitch continuous noise = he’s hungry.  2. When he makes a series of loud “heh” = he’s too cold, or hot, or wet. It’s his sign to express a discomfort. Usually means dirty diaper, if no dirty diaper, means something else and then you have to look for what is bothering him. Example : Yesterday, the bird outside his window chirping was annoying him and keeping him from sleeping soundly. 3. Loud screams punctuated by pauses = He’s lonely. The pauses are him listening in to see if someone is coming to get him.  4. Almost silent cries, when it’s so loud it becomes quiet = he didn’t burp properly after eating and desperately need too. A few light tap on his back will make him feel better very quickly.  5. When he whimpers, it’s usually because he has gaz. Putting him a little straighter helps him...evacuate.

        I put this directly in practice today, when I realized he was doing his “lonely cry”. I went to his rescue, and I didn’t mind staying hours with him even though he’s still a little baby and doesn’t do much. He smiled at me a lot, I think he recognized my voice. And my singing (note for self : make sure no one is around when such occurrence happen, almost got caught by father today). Then it felt like he didn’t want to let me go, so I stayed. 

      Is that what it is, to be a big brother ? Being needed ? If it is, it actually feels nice. It would certainly explain all the time Dick, Jason, Tim and Cass came to my own rescue. Wether help for my homework or to comfort me. But, I do that too, as a little brother ? I comforted them too many times. And I witnessed Jason, Tim or Cass comforting Dick and vice versa and in all ways. So, this means it’s a sibling thing, not quite a big brother thing. Need to keep studying to know what “big brother” is exactly.” 

************

"Saturday, December 9th 20??. Thomas’ first Christmas/6 month old.

     I started to build his gift. I think he will like it. I-” 

“What are you doing, Damian ?” 

You asked him, walking towards him as he busied himself at the gadget station in the Batcave. You saw him jump in the air slightly, and put away a bright pink notebook quickly. 

And then he saw you had Thomas in your arms, and when Damian saw him, he hid whatever he was doing as fast as he could. 

“Mom, you’re gonna spoil the surprise !! Get Thomas away !” 

Surprised, and without thinking about it, you went to your husband who was typing away on the computer and put the baby in his arms. 

Bruce was about to grumble that he was busy and brush the both of you away (he could be a jerk sometimes), but you didn’t gave him a chance, shoving your son in his arms. And when he looked, annoyed, at his baby and how the little one seemed the happiest of them all as he just recognized his father. Bruce’s mood lifted all of a sudden. 

He smiled softly, realized he was being an asshole and was going to apologize to you but you were already gone back to Damian. Your husband and baby son exchanged a curious look, before Thomas got very interested in his father “Bat” logo and started to try to grab it, while Bruce smiled softly again and, holding his son in one arm, continued his work. 

Balancing family and night activities had been hard for him to get and do, but he had it covered, nowadays. Well. Almost. 

Meanwhile, you were back next to Damian, and with a sigh of relief, your son uncovered his project. 

It did all kind of things to your heart... 

“Damian, is that-” 

You couldn’t finish your sentence, too touched. Your son, proudly, said : 

“It’s a mobile to go above his bed ! I think he doesn’t like the one he currently has. So I’m making him one with things he’ll like ! See mom, that’s you. Do you recognize yourself ?”

Damian seemed worried about this, and you nodded. It definitely looked like you. So. Your son wasn’t just good at drawing, but also at sculpting... 

“It’s for Christmas.” 

He said, smile wide. And as you grabbed him and crushed him against your chest, he got a little confused... 

"Saturday, December 25th 20??. Thomas’ first Christmas/6 month old.

*There’s here a drawing of Thomas beaming at his mobile above his bed that Damian build for him*

       I knew my present would be Thomas’ favorite. After all, it represents everything he likes. I put everyone from our family (Father, mom, Alfred, Dick, Tim, Cass, Jason, and of course, me), and a few of his favorite animals (I used Ace and Titus for the dogs, Tommy is very fond of them). And it makes music, which he seems to enjoy a lot. Especially when our mom, dad or anyone from the family sings to him. I recorded all of them secretly when they sang to him, and made it so he just has to push a button on the side of his crib to turn the mobile on.

       I wasn’t even worried that he wouldn’t understand how to make it work. He’s only six months old, but he’s already very smart and curious (I think the physical contact  we all gave him is a lot to “blame” for). So when I put the mobile above his bed, and pushed the button to start the voice of our mother, he moved his little arms and legs excitedly and smiled at the mobile widely ! I only had to push the button a few times more, and for our father, Dick, and Jason’s voice to be on for him to notice the button, and to push it himself. Or rather, to kick it or throw himself on it as best he could. He is still not that coordinate when it comes to movements. But he’s smart. He understood that, to have the music, he had to push the button.

         He didn’t pay attention to all his other gifts, but mine he loved. It’s because I made it with everything he likes. So of course, he loves it. Is that what it is, to be a big brother ? To know your little sibling and be the best at giving him a gift ? No. That doesn’t sound right. Tim, or Jason, already gave me absolutely useless terrible gift, and yet it still made me happy to receive them, and that they thought about me. Mmm. The researches are still on.”

************

“Thursday, March 7th 20??. Thomas : One year and a half.

      Father and mom entrusted me with babysitting Thomas today, as everyone was busy. I was very happy to be trusted with such responsibilities. I thought it would be easy, at that age, they're easily manipulated. Well...I was wrong"

************

“NO NO NO NO NO NO NOOOOOOOOO.” 

Thomas was screaming, while Damian was trying to be heard : 

“Thomas, listen, you need to put your pants on or-”

“NOOOOO !! NO DAMDAM NOOOOO !!”

“No”, was one of the first word Thomas pronounced. Right after “mama” and “dada” (the jury was still out on which words he said first, and was source of endless bickering between you and your husband). 

Then he started to try and pronounce his siblings’ name, although he wasn’t quite there yet. Damian being the youngest and still at home (Dick and Jason had their own apartment by now, and Cass and Tim were starting to be very busy with college), he was able to sort of say his name first. 

“Damdam”. Close enough. 

But right now, Damdam really wasn’t having a good time. 

It started rather smoothly. Thomas was a pretty calm child, so Damian (wrongly) thought it would be all good all day.

Only, it was the first time he was taking care of his brothers for so long. A couple of hours there and there. He made sure to be with him at least once a day, for at least two hours. Most of the time, it was more. 

They really started to be very close, sometimes, Thomas would choose Damian over you or Bruce...it vexed the both of you, but you had to put yourself in the shoes of your young son. 

Damian only had the good times with him. Playtime, and bed time stories, and such. While you and Bruce had to be strict with him sometimes, and give him boundaries (like no jumping on his bed, or no pulling the dogs’ tails). 

Bruce once mentioned that Thomas most certainly inherited your petty side, given the fact he always went to Damian when you scolded him. But when you smacked him on the head, vexed, he said he was joking (although we all know he wasn’t). 

In any way, Damian, in that year and a half, only had the good times with his brother. And today, as he had to take care of him all day long, he realized that...it wasn’t always that easy. 

Proof : the morning had gone well, but now, it was over, and it was time to put some close on. Problem : Thomas didn’t seem very keen on putting pants, today. 

It started slowly, as if it was a game. 

Thomas ran around the room, laughing, repeating : “no ‘an’ !” (which probably meant “no pants”). Up until Damian tried to take his father’s strict tone and said : 

“Ok Thomas, enough now, you need to put your pants on.” 

Well. That didn’t play well in Thomas’ book. Frowning, he said : 

“No.” 

“Yes, Tommy. It’s day time, you need to put pants on.” 

“No.” 

“Yes. Come on, I’ll help you.” 

“NO !” 

Thomas ran away from Damian’s grasp, and your son was so surprised that he wasn’t able to catch him right away. He caught up to him though as Thomas was climbing a couch, sure that he’d be out of reach at its top (probably not understanding that Damian wasn’t as small as him...). 

Once on the top of it, he sad down and put his hands in front of his eyes, clearly thinking he was hidden, now. 

“I can see you Thomas.”

“No.” 

“Stop saying no, I can see you.” 

“No.” 

“Come on Thomas, I’m not playing anymore, I can see you, and you need to put some pants on.” 

“Noooooooooooooooo.” 

“Tho-” 

“NooOOooOOoOOoOOoOoo noooooooo.” 

“Thoma-”

“NoooOOoOOoo no no no no no no no !!!!” 

Damian realized trying to talk it out wouldn’t work. His brother was probably too young to be reasoned with. Quickly,he scratched his head to find a solution. 

Maybe making him laugh again ? Like Dick did with him at first. 

It felt like such a long time ago, but there was a time when Damian was a really big brat. He still was, sometimes, he wasn’t perfect of course. But he improved a lot. 

Regardless, one of the way Dick would make him stop being bratty, was making absolutely awful jokes and trying to make him laugh by doing stupid things. Ok. Here we go then : 

“Hey hey Thomas look, look !” 

“No no no no...No ?” 

Ok. Good point. Thomas was now watching Damian doing backflips and running around. Beaming, the little boy smiled widely and clapped his hands. 

YES ! Damian most definitely won. He stopped doing his acrobatics and turned to his little brother, saying : 

“Ok, time for pants now.” 

But Thomas frowned again, as if vexed he fell for the show, and gave Damian a definitive : 

“No.” 

Well. That was a fail. What did Jason do again, to stop one of Damian’s own tantrum ? Oh. Right. Um. That probably wouldn’t be a good method with such a young kid. Skipping that one. 

Tim ? Tim would talk to him about his favorite things. Video games, or whatever. And blackmailing him a lot (as a good big brother). Damian wasn’t too into blackmailing, but he was kinda running out of ideas. 

This was the first time Thomas was being difficult with him, it was too new, he needed more data to know exactly how to react ! 

So, blackmail it would be. 

“If you put your pants on, we’ll watch your favorite movie !” 

This seemed to peak Thomas’ interest. He looked at the Tv, then at his pants. Then at the TV again and...oh...Ooooh...Damn it ! Damian could see he almost got him. But it didn’t work, his brother shook his head “no” so strongly he almost fell of the couch. 

Ok. What were the options left ? What did Cass do ? Mmm. She would hug him and tell him things would be alright. Which worked for him, given his past, but Thomas was a little over one and had a normal happy childhood so far ! 

They couldn’t relate to their past, like Cass and him did. 

Ok. What would his mom do ? Well, with his mom, Damian had the intimate feeling that Thomas would’ve put on his pants without a word. He knew she wasn’t joking around. He’d never pull this sort of things with her. 

He would though, pull that with his father. And what would Bruce do ? Either let it go, or, if he was in a bad mood, be very strict and force him to put his pants on. Nobody said his father was perfect...His mother, neither. She could be implacable in her way of educating her son. 

Thomas was a calm boy, and was of course allowed to have tantrums. Their mother was mostly understanding. But if she was tired, she’d be less patient...It wasn’t always easy, raising kids. And the gods knew the Waynes had a LOT on their plates, at times.

MMm. Damian didn’t want to force him to do anything, or to lose his patience. 

And then it hit him. The solution was right in front of his eyes. Of course. It was so simple ! 

"(...) Continuation of last entry (March 7th) 

         New observation after today’s babysitting : toddlers sometimes focus on one thing so much they don't know how to react, and therefor, explodes with feelings 

        I found that my siblings tricks to calm me down would not work on Thomas, because he isn’t me. We don’t have the same personality, or background. I never even noticed before, how Dick, for example, used different methods to comfort all of us. Adaptability is key. Like how father gives us all different trainings, according to our own needs. Little brothers are the same. When mad, they need to be calmed in different ways. Thomas is such a calm kid and has so few tantrum, I feel comfortable doing what I did. 

       Which brings me to my next point. Being an older brother sometimes mean being the bigger person. Giving up, and letting them do what they want. I never realized how many things Tim, Dick, Jason or Cass gave up for me. But it now becomes very apparent to me. They switched things around in their lives to be convenient for me. Like, Tim used to love playing video games on his own, yet he let me come and play with him even as he doesn’t like multiplayer modes. Jason is afraid of snakes yet took me to Gotham terrarium where there’s one of the largest concentration of snakes in the US when I asked him. Dick gave up on ever taking many hoodies I stole from him back. Etc etc. 

         Being a big brother means being the bigger person sometimes, and letting the small one have their ways. Dick, Jason, Cass and Tim did it all the time with me, and it’s my turn to do it with Thomas. Unlike our parents, I don’t need to be the “police officer” of the house. I can have only the good times, and when appropriate, just let go. 

       Today was the first tantrum I witnessed Thomas having, and I decided to let it go. After than, it went all smooth. And honestly, he’s just a bit over one. It’s ok, if he doesn’t wear pants...” 

************

Their parents found them both asleep in front of Thomas’ favorite movie. 

They were still both in their pyjamas. 

“No pants” day became a thing, for the two brothers. 

**********

“Wednesday, April 19th 20??. Thomas : 3 years old.

        Today, I learned a new lesson. I kind of already knew it before, by observing Dick, Jason, Tim and Cass. But it only became obvious to me today :  A big brother is here to help his little sibling walk his own path. And discover the world.” 

Damian was looking at his baby brother toughtfully. Mmm. Seemed like the kid liked animals too. Maybe they could bond further over this ?

Your boy remembered that that's how his own siblings handled him. They found common ground on which they could understand each others.

With Dick, Damian learned how to perfect his flips and other acrobatics. They enjoyed the creativity and yet physical training of this “game”. 

With Jason, he used to spew all his frustration at him, and Jason would nod and say things like : “that’s right little bird, you tell ‘em !” and just agree with him on everything, even when he was wrong. They could particularly agree on how sometimes, Bruce could be a jerk...And yet wouldn’t wish for any other father. 

With Cass, they’d do artistic things. Drawing, or dancing. Sometimes sitting in silence for hours, back to back, while they painted. It was nice. Relaxing. 

With Tim...Well, Tim was a big advocate of this definition of sibling, that he made up himself : “The only people who will pick on you for their own entertainment, and beat up anyone else who tries.” So they’d bicker a lot, but then if anyone else was trying to rile Damian up, Tim would appear out of nowhere to give them a piece of his mind.

Yes. Yes. As Damian was observing little Thomas hug and smile at his stuffed animals, and thought that this could be quite the approach. 

After all, he really loved animals too.

"'Ook Damdam, ook ! SIMBA !"

Damian had become an expert in his brother's baby talk, and knew this meant : "Look Damian, Look ! A lion"

"No Thomas, not a Simba, a lion. Not all lions are called Simba, just like in the film."

Patience was key. Damian was pretty sure he already told Thomas that exact same thing a hundred time, but for some reasons, the boy stayed stuck on his Disney knowledge. 

But today, something different happened. Things clicked in the boy’s head.

Thomas looked at his stuffed animal for a while, and then asked : 

"…Nala ? Girl ?"

"…Wether it's a boy or a girl, their names aren't simba or nala, they're lions. And lionness. Simba and Nala are characters in a movie."

The boy looked at his  brother, confused, then looked back at his plushy lion and asked, to make sure :

"…Not Simba ?"

"Lion."

"…'ion ?"

"Yes."

"That, not Nemo ?"

OH ! They were making progress ! So far, Thomas didn’t really listen to Damian when he tried to teach him animal names, and just gave them names of Disney characters ! 

Now, he was pointing at his stuffed clown fish, asking wether he was a “Nemo” or not ! PROGRESS ! 

Damian smiled internally. Thinking it was cute, you and Bruce never did much to correct your son, which Damian found frustrating. But here they were, him finally gaining grounds !

“Right, not Nemo. Clown fish.” 

“On fish.”

“Clown. CL-OWN”.

“O-N.” 

“K-K. LL. AON. Repeat after me Thomas, Clown.” 

“...Cl...cl...clnown ?” 

“Clown.” 

“CLOWN !” 

“YES !”

“CLOWN FISH !” 

Thomas said proudly, showing his plushy. And Damian felt a rush of pride.Yes. That was it. Clown fish. He learned a new thing. And...And he probably wouldn’t have learned it yet if it wasn’t for him ? 

Oh. So a big brother also kinda had the role of a teacher. Interesting. 

And as Thomas ran to his father and screamed “CLOWN FISH” at him, Damian couldn’t help but being proud of him. Even though their father was clearly confused, as the little boy now was running to Alfred to show him he knew what a clown fish was, and didn't give further explanations to Bruce. 

“Clown fish ?”

The big scary bat repeated, utterly confused. By a three years old. What was it again ? Best detective in the world ?

************

“GWAYSON !” 

“No Thomas, no, I’m Dick, not Grayson !” 

“...Dick ?” 

“Yes ! Damian, stop teaching him that my name is Grayson ! Ugh. I swear, he hangs out wayyyyy too much with you. I need to spend more time here...” 

Damian grinned slyly, and Dick rolled his eyes. Thomas was growing up fast, and it made sense that he sometimes seemed closer to Damian, whom he saw the most. 

Dick and Jason had their own place, and both Cass and Tim were busy with college. Damian was still in high school, and a lot home. 

Although they weren’t seeing each others as much as he wished, the youngest Wayne and the oldest one still were extremely close. 

In fact, Thomas was very close to all his siblings. They almost were all like second (or third, or fourth) father, and mother. They were so much older than him, of course they’d have this sort of status at time. 

Their parents would take a lot care of him, and he was also very much a “daddy’s and momma’s boy” (like all his siblings really, though they’d never admit it). 

But Thomas did spend a lot of time with Damian, and wether it was on purpose or not, he took a lot after his mannerism and such...just like Damian used to copy his older sibling mannerism, and so on and so forth. 

“Gwayson” though, he could avoid. 

Dick rolled his eyes again, and smirked at Damian, before returning to play with Thomas. 

************

“Thursday, July 23rd 20??, Thomas : 4 years old. 

       Today, father and mom told me I was to take a night off and not to go on patrol. And that was a very big inconvenience. I had things planned, to prove my valor. I was about to sneak out anyway when (...)” 

Damian, his costume on, made sure his parents were busy before starting to come in action. 

First, he had to wait for his father to go on patrol, and join his other siblings out. And for his mom to get in front of the Batcomputer to monitor everything. 

Then, he had to wait for Alfred to put Thomas to bed, and to go himself sleep, the baby phone near him, just in case, even though Thomas was already 4 now and had full nights. The butler would never just leave him like that, even if his room wasn’t too far. 

Finally, he'd just have to sneak out by...

“DAMDAM !” 

Damian jumped in the air, surprised, and turned around. 

His little brother was right there, in front of him, smiling widely. 

“Thomas ? How did you get here ?” 

“I jumped out of bed, and walked.” 

Thomas said the most natural way ever, as if it was obvious how he got there, while it was almost 1 am and was supposed to be in bed. 

“It’s way past your bed time buddy.” 

“I can’t sleep. Mama and daddy awe not hewe. Cassie and Tim either. Alfwed is sleeping !” 

“Well you should be sleeping too !”

“But I can’t ! I just told you !” 

There was a short silence between the two, and...Oh. Oh he dared. 

Thomas was giving his older brother his world famous “puppy eyes” (a method he directly stole from Damian, of course). And as usual, it worked. 

Damian took his mask off, sighed and said : 

“You want a bed time story ?”

“YES !” 

And without invitation, the boy jumped on his brother’s bed, slipped under the covers, and waited patiently for Damian to go fetch the book they were currently reading. 

“(...) Continuing last entry, (July 23rd)

       And then Thomas fell asleep in my lap, and I realized something. I guess it was good, to have a night off. If I went out, I would’ve never made this important discovery : Tonight, I have learned that to be with the ones I love is enough. And that I do not need to chase after anything else to be happy. 

     It’s a discovery I thought I made long ago, but as I felt more big brother than ever after reading him a story, it truly hit me. Being me, and being with them...It’s enough. I don’t need to have more. And maybe, maybe being a big brother means to simply be there when you feel lonely ? Like Thomas, tonight, as our parents were away, and none of our other siblings were there. Like me too, when I had nightmares and went to hide in Cass, Dick, Jason, or Tim’s bed...whoever was available when mom and dad weren’t. 

       Mom and dad. They do their best. And their best makes them the best parents anyone could wish for. But they have a lot to do, wether in the day or at night. So sometimes, it comes to me. Or to my older siblings, to take care of each others. To take care of Thomas. We have to be there for each others, always. Being a big brother means taking the time to be there. Simple.”

************

“Look Damian, it’s a freakin’ elephant !!”

“Um, what did you say ?”

“It’s a freakin’ elephant !!”

Damian looked around at the disapproving looks he got, and couldn’t care less. Of course, he wasn’t particularly thrilled about his little brother using “freaking” but oh well. It was to be expected, when everyone around him used it (and in some cased *cough* Jason and you *cough* used even worst). 

But as Damian came towards his little brother, he realized something. Something that made him burst out laughing. 

Thomas was starting to read on his own now. 

It was exciting, to witness Thomas’ progress as he slowly but surely learned how to read. And it felt so nice, to participate in said progress. To be there every steps of the way. 

Damian shared the pride Thomas felt whenever he showed his parents how well he’d gotten at reading.

And it was so nice, to see his mom and dad congratulates both of them…Thom because he really started to read well, and Damian for helping him out.

Far were the frustrating days when Thomas was a stubborn toddler that refused to call animals by their “actual names”. 

Damian spend many hours trying to explain to his younger brother that no, mice weren’t called “Mickey” and elephants “Dumbo” ! 

Nowadays, the little boy knew what the animals’ name actually were. Which didn’t mean no incident ever happened…Like today.

It was Thomas’ sixth birthday and he asked to go to the zoo (Damian definitely had an impact on that boy).

“Look Damdam, it’s a freakin’ elephant !!”

The boy said excitedly, pulling his brother’s sleeve and pointing at the elephant’s massive enclosure. Damian shook his head, slightly shocked. 

Not because his brother just called him “Damdam” (it was the nickname Thomas gave him long ago, when he couldn’t pronounce things quite right, and it just stuck), but because Thomas’ words were very much unlike him. 

Their parents were a bit further, being disgustingly cute together, holding hands and all, and trusting Damian to keep an eye on Thomas (they knew he’d never let that kid out of his sight, plus Damian was almost an adult, now, he was responsible…sometimes).

“What did you say, Thomas ?”

“It’s a freakin’ elephant !”

The boy seemed so proud of himself. Damian knew elephants were some of his brother’s favorite animal, but he just couldn’t get over the fact that his precious little brother just used the word “freaking”, even if it really wasn’t a bad one. 

That’s when Damian noticed it. The plaque giving informations about which kind of elephant it was. …His laughter resonated in the entire zoo. Both you and Bruce went to see what happened, and were face by a son shaking with laughter, and another little one that seemed very confused. When you asked what happened, Damian barely manage to say, pointing at the enclosure next to you :

“It’s a freakin’ elephant !”

And there, there came the laughter. 

Yes. Yes it was an “freakin’ elephant”…Or, for those who weren’t as new at reading as Thomas was, an “African elephant. 

Damian later shared what just happened with his older siblings, and they in turn gave him many occurrences of him being naive or such sometimes. 

Like that time Jason made him believe that the hays in fields covered with white plastics were marshmallows’ fields...But instead of being vexed, Damian laughed with them. 

Because that was what being a little sibling meant. And being the older one meant to see the evolution the small one went through, witness it all, and help out. Be there. 

Finally. Finally Damian felt like he truly understood, what it was to be a big brother ? 

**********

“Saturday, July 12th 20??, Thomas : 6 years old. 

          It took me six years, but I think I know now. After countless study and experiment. After spending hours and hours with Thomas. I think I know what it means to be a big brother. 

         First I had to understand what being a sibling meant. And that was easy. I had good model. Dick, Jason, Tim, Cass. They’re the best older siblings you can wish for (after me, of course). They helped me understand so much...Thanks to them, I finally got what it was, to be a sibling. And here it is : 

        Being siblings means our bond is stronger than any outside force, and we always have someone to lean on. It means late night pillow talks, awkward phone conversations, and insane laughter. It means calling each others over for no reason other than to sit in silence or talk for hours about nothing. One minute I'll be talking to one of my brother about Harry Potter, and the next I'll be talking to my sister about the newest music we're listening to. 

        But being an older brother...Being an older brother goes beyond just that. When you’re the youngest, sure you’re there for them, and you help out. But most of the time, you’re the one being helped, and having the most support. While still having fun ? 

        Being an older brother, it's keeping that balance between letting out my inner child (which I didn’t even know I had for the longest time, and was let out thanks to my older siblings at first) but still looking out for my little brother.

       Basically, it means having a free therapist and the greatest confidante you could ask for. I went to my older brothers and sister many times, in time of need. And Thomas comes to me often, too. When it’s things we can’t tell our parents, you know ? 

        Being an older brother means being there for your little one through thick and thin. There were many times I had to stand up for Thomas even when it was difficult, whether it was to our parents or someone else. And there were even more times when Dick, Jason, Tim or Cass stood up for me. 

        But it also means being a little strict at times. I came to realize that when Dick told me to do something, or Tim, or any of them...It came more from the fact they wanted me to not get into trouble than anything else, and that...That I realized with Thomas. Sometimes, you have to tell your little sibling what to do. But some other times, it’s totally ok to let go. 

        Being a big brother means loving and supporting your little sibling no matter who or what they choose to be or do. That’s what my brothers and sister showed me, and my parents too. And that’s what I discovered with my own little brother. So what if we didn’t have all the same interest ?

        Being a big brother means celebrating individuality and being proud of the fact that your little brother/sister is a part of your family. I’m glad we’re all different, with my siblings. And I’ll never make Thomas feel bad for that. It’s good, that he’s the calmest out of all of us, and had a different kind of life.

        Maybe being an older brother means that occasionally, I take advantage of the fact I can tell Thomas what to do (and how easily he listens to me), but...I am his biggest fan. If he falls, I will always pick him back up (right after finishing laughing, like Jason would say). 

        Yes. It took me six years, but I think I finally know what being a big brother means. I’m glad, because this is the last page of this logbook. 

        One day, I think I’ll give it to you, Thomas. Just in case. If you’re going through a tough time, or you’re not sure of who you really are. To remind yourself I went through the same thing. 

        To remind yourself I had to write, for six years, certain important interactions I had with you so I would understand a simple concept such as “being a big brother”.

        And that Dick did too. It wasn’t easy for him to go from a circus life with his parents to Wayne Manor with mom and dad, who were both rather young at the time, and inexperienced. 

         Jason came from the street, rejected by everyone. Do you think it was easy for him to acclimate to a life where he could finally be at peace ? Nope. And then, when he died and came back ? Ask him, and you’ll know. 

         Cass came a long way. Now, she speaks a lot, especially to you. But she used to be “mute”. And had a hard life. You should ask her, sometimes. 

         Tim struggled with being ignored all his life, and then he came in and suddenly had siblings, and “real” parents. Then I came along and fucked things up a bit (don’t swear)...but he came through, understanding what a big brother was supposed to be. 

         We all came through. Mainly because we had each others. So please Thomas, if you ever feel down, just come to me. Or to them. To us. We’re your older siblings, and that what it means. 

          I’m here for you. We’re here for you. Forever.”

The end 

__________________________________________________

So, y’all know I was very nervous about posting this. I hope it wasn’t a total fail and you enjoyed reading it ? Thank you for reading, and as usual, if you liked it and all, comments and reblogs are always more than welcomed :). Here we go. See you next time with another story. Now, I’m going to go hide in a whole out of fear that you guys will hate this and how different it might be from other stories (as it’s mainly Damian/Thomas centric). 

For those who do not know who Thomas is and are curious, here are the stories from my main Batmom timeline in which he appears : The Great Mall adventure, Master of Diaper, Shaky steps and bad teaching, Polichinelle, “Go away, you’re confusing my baby”, How do you make babies ?, Wild Child 2, “We want them back” and After Batmom’s death

CLICK HERE FOR ALTERNATE ENDING 

[javier-djarin]

Como Me Duele: Chapter 10

Ship: Javi x Reader

Rating: M

Word Count:  5,490 words

Warnings: Language, Mild Violence

Masterlist

Summary: Someone has taken Javi’s hermosa, and now he’s coming to get her. And he’s bringing hell with him.

A/N: Three more posts left. Which makes me so sad, because I loved writing this fic. Thank you again for all the love and support! Please, please, PLEASE let me know what you think. Please let me know if you want to be on my tag list! Chapter 11 coming soon! Also, there is a lot of Spanish in this one. Most of it is from the show. I apologize in advance. The translations are at the bottom.

His POV

He sat in a crumpled mess on the sidewalk looking at the suitcase that had been busted open. The blood that pooled around the suitcase had to have been her’s. He felt pain, misery, panic, and rage all at once. He wanted to scream and cry. She was gone, and the last image she had of him was Gabby’s arms around him as she kissed him. He balled his fists in his hair, hating himself even more for hurting her the same way Michael did; the same way Javi promised he’d never do. He had no one. Steve was gone tracking Escobar’s family to God knows where. He had absolutely not one person he could call for help. He gathered her things, gently folding her clothing before carrying the broken suitcase up to their apartment.

Javi set it on the dining table before taking a seat next to it. He could call Berna, unless that’s who took her. He knew Los Pepes were getting nervous the last time, since he was not as forthcoming with information like he was before. He could notify the Embassy, but they’d release it to the press, and then the kidnappers could get spooked and do something unimaginable to her. He banged his fists on the table in rage. The best thing he could do right now was use whatever resources he could find, and bring her home. He would burn Colombia to the ground if he had to, just to make sure she was safe, and he was prepared to do exactly that.

He jumped out of his seat and ran to his Jeep. He was losing precious time, so he sped to the Embassy. His tires squealed as he skid into a parking spot. “Javi,” one of the secretaries said as he blew by them. “Javi, you have a message!”

He stopped. “From who?” He spun to face her, his rage causing him to shake and tremble.

“I think you should go talk to the Ambassador,” she said softly.

Without missing a beat, he turned on his heel, bursting into the Ambassador’s office where Messina was already waiting. “Agent Peña,” Crosby said, “please, have a seat.”

“With all due respect, Ambassador, I need this to be as brief as possible.”

Messina looked at her agent and sighed. “We received a call about 20 minutes ago from Escobar.”

His face turned ghost white. “What did he want?”

“He threatened us. He wants us to pull strings to get his family into Germany. Agent Murphy is there now trying to prevent that.”

Already knowing the answer to his next question, he decided to ask anyway, “What-uh-what leverage does he have? Or did he just call and ask nicely?”

“It seems that he has a Ms. Y/N Y/L/N in his ‘protective custody’ saying when his family is safe, he will return her to us. Apparently she is an American Nurse who was down here volunteering-”

“I know who she is,” he said all too fast. “She’s,” his voice cracked, “she’s my…” the fastest way to get her back was if she was DEA. They protect their own. She may not want anything to do with him once he got her back, but right now her safety was all he cared about. “She’s my wife.”

“Agent Peña, I thought you weren’t married.”

“Recently married, Messina.” He cleared his throat and tried to calm down.

Crosby sat back in his chair and watched Peña. “Well, there’s only one problem. His family is already on a charter back to Colombia. They booked their flight late last night and will be landing here tonight.”

Javi felt his heart race. Escobar was going to kill her, and he knew it. They went after Pablo’s family, so naturally he retaliated. This was exactly why he wanted her in the states, instead of here. “Not to be crass, but how the fuck am I going to get her back?” he said through his teeth.

“We are working with Colonel Martinez to find her,” Crosby said.

“And we’re going to need you to stay here, Agent Peña,” Messina added.

His eyes immediately darted to hers. “No. Court Marshal me, send me home, but do all of that after I break that direct order. I’m going out there to find her.”

“You’re too close to this.”

“Damn right I’m too close to this, and I’m going to do whatever it takes to bring her back to me!” he exclaimed, “And if that motherfucker calls here again, I want to talk to him.”

Messina looked at Crosby for a cue. He was sitting silently, with no expression on his face as he waited for Javi to be done with his tirade. “Look, we don’t negotiate with terrorists. However, we aren’t going to abandon one of our own. Your wife is DEA. We are going to do everything in our power -”

“Please, Ambassador, cut the shit. I know this spiel. We give it to anyone who loses someone. I’m sure they gave this same talk to Mika Camarena when Kiki went missing. I’m going to go out there and find her, either on my own or with help. I’m not waiting for clearance or authorization. Her hours, no minutes are numbered.”

Messina stood up and approached Javi. “When Agent Murphy lands, we will send him in for backup. Whatever you need, let me know. You’ll have it.”

Your POV 

You took a deep breath as you stood outside your apartment complex, nervous about seeing Javi and telling him the news: you were pregnant. You ran various scenarios through your head from best to worst case. You reached out for the doorknob and pushed the door open and slowly climbed the flight of stairs that led to your apartment. You were halfway up the second flight when you saw it. Javi was kissing someone. Her arms were draped over his shoulders and she held onto him like she knew him intimately. It felt like a hot knife was ripping through your body. Memories of Michael's betrayal hit you. It was happening again and this time, you didn't know if you'd survive it. The pain was almost too unbearable. You let out a loud gasp as tears welled in your eyes. He pushed her away. "Shit," he said, eyes wide, "Y/N."

You turned and bolted down the stairs. Maybe if you ran fast enough you'd catch a taxi before he got to you. Tears were blurring your vision by the time you made it outside. You thought of your child, realizing now they would never know the happiness their parents felt; he or she would be raised in a broken home. You heard tires squeal in front of you and two men run at you. You tried backing away, but your legs were already weak from grief. You dropped your suitcase and it burst open. The last thing you remembered was intense pain on the side of your head as you hit the ground.

***

You woke up a few times with a bag over your head. You were groggy and couldn’t really understand what they were saying as you drifted in and out of consciousness. Your head throbbed, obviously from the butt of a gun or something blunt that struck you. “El está loco,” You heard one of them say. “Primero esa bomba, ¿y ahora la novia de un agente de la DEA?”

“Era amigo de Carrillo.  Ese hijo de puta vendrá por ella y traerá el infierno con él,” the other said. 

The first one laughed. “No mierda  Acabamos de firmar nuestras propias órdenes de muerte, Blackie.”

That brought you out of your grogginess. If Blackie was in the car, then the other one had to be La Quica. Or at the very least one of Pablo’s men. Your heart sank. They were going to use you as a bargaining chip. Little did they know, Javi wouldn’t come for her. Michael was right. He only sent her away so he could hook up with local… no, you thought to yourself, there has to be a reason she was there. There was no way he would do that to me. He is going to come for me. Months of living together and love making told you that he loved you too much to betray you. He would find you, even if it killed him. 

His POV

He walked into the usual seedy bar to meet Berna, but this time he didn’t feel dirty about it. He didn’t care if this move cost him his career; he was going to get her back. He pulled his chair out and lit a cigarette. “No tengo ninguna información para ti, pero necesito tu ayuda,” he said. 

Berna sat back and grinned. “¿Que vas a hacer por mi?”

Javi tried to hide his emotions, but his fear and anger were all over his face. “Te pagaré.”

“$50,000,” he replied.

“Trato.”

Berna shook his hand. “Escuché que Blackie y La Quica se la llevaron. Ella está en algún lugar de Bogotá.”

His heart raced. “¿Dónde?”

“Estoy...investigando.”

Javi growled and slammed the table. “En el segundo en que encuentres algo, llámame. Quiero estar ahí.”

He put out his cigarette and left the restaurant. Just as he stepped onto the sidewalk, the phone rang. “Javi,” Steve’s voice rang from the other end. “I just landed. Messina filled me in.”

“I’m on my way,” he said, hanging up the phone. Javi sat in his Jeep for a second, frustrated beyond belief. He spent the entire day looking for leads, clues, anything, but he was coming up short. No one was talking. She was sitting, God knows where, waiting. He couldn’t get the look on her face out of his head. It was pure shock and hurt when she saw Gabby kissing him. He felt a tear roll down his cheek as he started the car. “I’m on my way,” he whispered to himself. 

***

Steve hopped in the Jeep and turned to Javi. “What the fuck, man?” he said, “I’ve only been gone for a day!”

Javi couldn’t turn to look at Steve. He knew if he did, he’d lose it. “I’ve got to find her,” his voice cracked.

“We will,” Steve reassured.

He tightened his grip on the steering wheel and sped down the street. “Where are we going?”

Javi didn’t answer, because he didn’t know. He just felt like if he was driving, he was doing something.

“Javi,” Steve sternly said, “Javi, pull over.”

He pulled off to the side and slammed the gear shift into park. “What!” Javi exclaimed.

Steve held his hands up in surrender. “Let’s go back to the apartment, and we will start there.”

“I already tried that,” he said, still looking at the steering wheel.

“Let’s try again. You had to have missed someone,” Steve said, “someone who was in the area.”

Javi froze. He did miss someone. Gabriela. Deep down, he knew she was part of it. She had to have been. Who else would be able to give her his address? “Fuck!” he screamed. 

“What is it?”

He finally turned and looked at his partner...friend. Tears ready to spill over at the edge of his eyelids. “Gabriela,” he croaked. Steve waited patiently for Javi to explain to him who she was. “She’s a prostitute.”

“Jesus, Javi,” he said, running his hand down his face. “What did you do?”

Javi recounted how Gabriela was the one who told him about Martiza, how she’s the reason Carrillo was set up, and how she showed up at his apartment door early this morning. His voice broke so many times when he tried to tell Steve about the last time he saw Y/N’s face, just before she bolted down the stairs. “She has to hate me,” he said, “which is why I have to get her back. I have to save her if it’s the last thing I do.”

“Well, let’s start with this Gabriela. Do you know where to find her?”

He put the car in drive. “I do.”

***

They pulled in and parked on the opposite side of the street from the brothel. Javi’s phone rang before they got out of the car. “Peña,” he answered.

“Javi! I just got your message,” Connie said at the other end.

“You called my wife?” Steve said.

“I had no one else to talk to!” Javi defended, “Steve’s back. We think we’ve found a lead. I can call you back after.”

“Wait, Javi,” she said, “hand the phone to Steve.”

He did so and left the Jeep. He needed some fresh air before heading to interrogate Gabriela. He ran his hand through his hair and leaned against the vehicle, about ready to lose the rest of his mind. Every second he did nothing weighed on him. She had limited time left.

“Steve,” Connie said over the phone, crying. “You have to find her, and soon.”

“I know, Connie. What do you think we’re doing?” he sighed.

“No, you don’t understand. Steve, you can’t tell Javi. Especially now.”

“Tell him what?”

Connie took a deep breath. “Y/N is pregnant.”

“She’s what!” he exclaimed.

“Look, we were all surprised, but that’s why she went back. She came down there to tell Javi. She wanted to do it in person and to surprise him.”

“Oh, Jesus. Fuck! I can’t keep that from him,” he said.

“You have to, Steve. What good is this information going to do him now? Nothing, except drive him more insane. You get my pregnant best friend back. Be careful. I love you.” She hung up the phone, and Steve slammed his head lightly against the headrest. He climbed out of the Jeep and walked around to where Javi was standing. He stared at him with nothing but sorrow in his eyes, knowing what Javi should know.

“What?” Javi said. “What did she say?”

“How about I handle this interrogation?” Steve suggested. 

His hands trembled as he wiped his face. “Okay.” 

They walked into the whorehouse, instantly surrounded by girls promising a good time. Javi cornered one he knew, Vanessa. “¿Gabriela está aquí?”

“Sí, Javi. Ella esta arriba.”

“Gracias,” he added. 

Steve followed Javi through the hallways and up the stairs to Gabriela’s room. He knocked first, but when there wasn’t an answer, he burst in. Steve held back for a minute. She was in the middle of a job. “¡Vete, cabrone!”

The man grabbed his clothes and ran out of the room. Gabriela smiled and made her way over to Javi. “I knew you wouldn’t stay away for long,” she said, wrapping her arms around his neck.

He grabbed her wrists, a little too hard. “Cut the shit, Gabby.”

“Javi…”

Steve stepped out of the shadows and grabbed her arm, forcing her to sit in the chair in her room. “Who gave you Javi’s address? No one knew he’d moved apartments.”

“I don’t…”

Javi stormed over to her, pressing her into the seat. “Who, Gabby!”

She started crying. “Lo siento, Javi. Lo siento mucho. Ellos iban a matarme.”

He felt a weight lift. He found his lead. His breathing began to shake as he sat down. “Where did they take her?” Steve asked, pressing the barrel of his gun to her chest.

“I-I don’t know.”

He cocked the gun. “You’re going to have to do better than that. They were going to kill you, but I will.”

“Please, I can find out.”

Javi’s head jerked up and looked at her. “Call them. Now.”

“I can’t just do that.” She started crying harder. “They’re watching you.”

Both Javi and Steve froze. “They have been since Pablo escaped prison. That’s how they knew where to hit you where it hurt.”

“Call them.” Steve pressed harder with the gun. “Now.”

She reached for the phone on the side table next to her. 

Your POV

You woke again, this time with duct tape and rope around your arms and legs. You were blindfolded and strapped to a chair with a terrible headache. You head feet shuffling as they neared you. “Ella tiene una herida en la cabeza desagradable,” the man’s voice said. 

“Limpiarla. Pablo quiere que enviemos un video a la embajada.,” La Quica’s voice said from across the room.

“Nosotros estamos jugando con fuego,” the voice said as he dabbed at her wound with a cloth.

You tried to move away, but he held your head in place. “Estas bien, señorita,” he said, trying to calm you.

You didn’t say anything, but instead let out a small sob. You felt another pair of hands on your face, lifting your chin up to expose your neck. “Tal vez podríamos divertirnos un poco con este después del video.”

“Por favor, no,” you begged.

“Sí. Quiero ver qué te hace tan especial para la DEA.”

“No, por favor. Estoy embarazada.”

La Quica laughed. “Limpiarla.”

His POV

Blackie. She was able to give them Blackie. She told them about Blackie’s girlfriend in Medellín. Javi and Steve walked into the Search Bloc offices to begin mapping out a plan of attack. Steve’s phone rang. “Murphy.”

“It’s Messina,” she said, “keep Peña away from the TV.”

“What happened?”

“She’s on the TV.”

Steve saw Trujillo and Peña talking, as they both rapidly walked into Martinez’s office. “You called about thirty seconds too late.”

Javi stood in shock as he watched the tape that was released this morning by the news. La Quica was laughing in the video, showing them her wounds she sustained. She cried the entire time, pleading for them to let her go. Her beautiful eyes swollen and red. One was bruised. In one final display of dominance, La Quica backhanded her to silence her. Blood dripped from her split cheek and swollen lips. Pablo’s usual reporter, Valeria Velez, was the one on TV with a screencap of his beautiful hermosa in the upper left corner. “Escobar tiene un mensaje para los responsables de mantener a su familia en peligro: Mientras mi familia esté en peligro, la tuya también. Mantener a mi familia seguro, o te enviaré su cabeza en una caja.”

Enraged, Javi grabbed the whiskey glass in front of him and threw it at the TV, shattering the glass and screen completely. Martinez and Trujillo stood back, fearing they would be the next targets. Steve came in and grabbed Javi before he destroyed anything else. “I’m going to kill those motherfuckers,” he said, “every last one of them.”

“I know,” Steve said, “starting with Blackie. Let’s catch this asshole.”

***

They walked out of Blackie’s Girlfriend’s apartment complex, defeated. They were dead. Everyone inside. Javi was almost sure that Blackie fled. He wouldn’t be coming back here, and their lead was a dead end. He punched the side of his Jeep out of frustration. He was growing restless and angry. It’d been three days since she’d been taken, and he hadn’t slept at all. How could he? She was out there, somewhere being tortured. He couldn’t afford to sleep. Steve approached him. “It looks like the work of Los Pepes.”

Javi cursed. Of course. He hadn’t given them that information, which means someone else was. “We have to find Blackie. Get him to talk.” He closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

“When was the last time you slept?”

“I don’t know.”

“I’ll drive,” Steve said, taking the keys from him. “Sleep, at least while I drive us back.”

“I can’t sleep. Not until she’s safe.”

Your POV

“Patrón, Los Pepes se están expandiendo. Los Galones están trabajando con ellos ahora. No podemos enfrentarnos a un enemigo tan grande,” you heard La Quica say into the phone. “Sí, sí. Ella está viva. ¿Dónde? Medellín. Sí, Patrón. Gracias. Hasta luego.”

Based on the one-sided conversation you heard, you put together that you were being moved to Medellín. You felt your heart drop. You wanted to scream and cry for Javi, but you knew that would result in Quica beating you. You had no idea how long you’d been trapped here, but you were grateful they hadn’t done anything to you to hurt your child. The worst La Quica did was slap you.

You were no longer worried about yourself, but instead your baby and Javi. You knew this had to be killing Javi. He sent you away for this reason. Tears ran down your cheeks as you silently cried. You should have just called him, but instead you were selfish and wanted to celebrate with him in person. Now, he was out there somewhere looking for you, risking his life to bring you home. 

His POV

They pulled into the Embassy lot as were instantly met by Messina. “We overheard some chatter,” she said.

Javi felt his heart race. “Who?”

“Quica and Escobar. They’re moving ‘precious cargo’ to Medellín tonight. We are stationing teams at the airfields. And setting up blockades at various intersections,” she added, “she won’t leave the city.”

“Messina, a word?” Steve asked.

She nodded and walked away with Steve so they were out of Javi’s earshot. “She’s pregnant.”

Messina crossed her arms. “I’ll communicate that with team leaders to make sure she walks away unharmed and stays out of the crossfire.”

Javi had already walked inside, only to be approached by Stechner, who hopped on the elevator with him. “You’re the last person I want to talk to right now,” he said, “can’t you take the stairs?”

“Remember my warning, Peña? You’re starting to make our new friends nervous. Why didn’t you tell them about Blackie?”

He turned to look at him, annoyed. “They found his family, didn’t they?”

“No thanks to you.”

Javi could feel his muscles tense up. He was already on edge and in desperate need to take his frustrations out on something. Instead, he tried to calm himself. “They go in after her, guns blazing, she could get hurt. Or worse.”

“This is bigger than your girlfriend problems.”

He grabbed him by the shirt collar and slammed him into the elevator wall. “Not for me. I will burn this fucking place to the ground to find her, and if you try to stop me, I’ll take you down with me.”

The elevator door opened and he released him. He walked to his desk. He held the picture of her he kept there, running his fingers over the glass. “Javi,” Steve said behind him, out of breath, “we got him. We fucking got him.”

He set the picture down and turned to him. “Who? Where is he?”

“Blackie.”

***

Javi and Steve were granted access to the interrogation room where they had Blackie. He was sitting there, scared. His hands were tied around his back as he sat in a metal chair looking between the two of them with wide eyes. “Ustedes no me pueden hacer una mierda,” Blackie said, ”De Greiff nos ofreció amnistía.”

“Cierto,” Javi said, leaning back on the table, “Pero tienes que hablar para conseguirlo.”

Blackie smiled. “¿Quieres negociar, gringo? Te voy a dar algo. Algo pequeño.”

Javi leaned forward, bringing his face closer to Blackie’s. “Encontraron residuos explosivos en tus manos. En tu chaqueta, en todas partes. Te culparán por esa bomba.”

His eyes grew wider, realizing he had no bargaining chips left. “No tuve nada que ver con eso.”

Javi rested his gun on his leg. “Lo sabemos. Sabemos que no fue idea tuya. Sabemos que no eres el jefe. No dejes que te culpen por esto. No dejes que te vean como el que mató a todos esos niños inocentes.” 

Steve folded his arms and said, “Ayúdanos y te ayudaremos. Danos a Pablo.”

Blackie shook his head. “No puedo darte Pablo.”

Javi fired a round into Blackie’s leg, and he screamed out in pain. “¡El siguiente es para tu cabeza! ¿Dónde la están reteniendo? ¡Habla, cabrone!”

Crying through the pain, he exclaimed, “¡Yo hablaré! ¡Yo hablaré!” He pushed his gun onto Blackie’s forehead, hard, leaving an imprint in his skin. “La Quica la tiene en una casa segura en Medellín. Sabían que estabas escuchando sus conversaciones, así que la trasladaron anoche.”

Javi grabbed him by the shirt collar and shook him. “¿Dónde in Medellín?”

“Pablo está declarando la guerra a Judy Moncada. Quiere que La Quica junte tanto dinero como pueda. Probablemente esté en movimiento con él.”

Javi looked at Steve. “We need to get to Medellín. Now.” He turned back to Blackie and cocked his gun. 

“Eso es todo lo que sé. Lo prometo.”

Javi put his gun back on safety and returned it to his back, tucking it safely into his belt. He looked down at the floor and saw blood pooling around Blackie’s leg. He felt nothing for the man. “¿La llevaste?”

Blackie breathed through the pain and looked up at Javier. “No tuve elección.”

He used his elbow to send a blow to Blackie’s head, knocking him out cold. Javi stormed out of the room. “Peña,” Steve said, running after him.

Javi didn’t stop.

“Dammit, Javi, wait!”

“I don’t have time to wait. Catch up,” he said over his shoulder.

Steve jogged through the corridor and caught up to him. “We gotta tell Messina. They’re sending their resources to the wrong area.”

“Fine. Go tell her. I’m heading to Medellín now.” 

He let out a loud sigh and followed his partner. “I’ll call her from the road.”

***

Javi and Steve walked into the Medellín office and headed straight for Martinez. “I just got off the phone with Messina,” he said, “I’m letting you take the lead on this, Agent Peña. What do you need?”

He looked around the room at the  map of Medellín on the table. “We are setting up blockades. That fucker isn’t getting out of this city. I want reinforcements here,” he pointed at 10th street, “and here,” he pointed at 32nd street. “Intel suggests these are where his largest stashes are held. If La Quica is gathering money, he’ll go to these.”

Martinez motioned to the map. “We will block intersections so he can only go certain routes out of there. He’ll drive right into our trap.”

His heart was beating so fast, he was sure that the whole room could hear him. “Do not shoot at the car,” he said, “she might,” Javi’s voice cracked, “she might be with him in the car.”

Martinez looked at him. “I cannot make promises, Peña. If he starts firing at my men, they’ve been instructed to take him out.”

“Well, instruct them to take the fight away from the car,” Javi growled, “she’s not going to die in the crossfire.”

Steve slapped Javi on the back. “We’ll get her out of there. She’s going home in one piece.”

Javi sighed. He tried to look at the bright side: they were closer to her than they had been over the last few days. However, he had this sinking feeling in his stomach that his fight to get her home was far from over.

Your POV

You’d been moved so many times over the last several hours that your sense of direction was completely thrown off, not to mention they’d blindfolded you again. This time, though, you’d been thrown into the trunk of the car, and you could hear muffled arguing coming from the cab. You felt the car jerk forward as you tried to wiggle your hands free of the zip ties they used to tie your hands together behind your back. You knew that if you could punch through the tail light, you’d be able to signal for help. You couldn’t even get your feet loose, as they were duct taped together. You did your best to remain calm as you struggled against your restraints, but you suddenly stopped when you heard the car go silent as their phone rang. “Aló. Meirda. ¿Quién es la mierda?” You heard Quica say, “Hijo de puta. ¿Quien es este?”

Your heart raced. Please be Javi, you thought to yourself. You wanted to scream so whoever was on the phone could hear you, but you feared for your life. You knew if you drew any attention to yourself, he’d kill you for certain. 

Quica slammed on the brakes, and you heard them get out. There was gunfire, and so you panicked. You started tugging on your restraints more, only causing your wrists to become raw. You felt the car move as he piled back into the car and hit the gas. You slid forward, narrowly missing another head injury. You heard the phone ring again, and Quica yell something. He took a sharp right turn, and you slid into the side of the trunk, hard. Suddenly everything went black.

His POV

Javi leaned against Trujillo’s Jeep with a phone in his hand. “Now?” Steve nodded. “They’re ready.” He dialed the number he had for La Quica. It rang twice before there was an answer. “Aló.”

“Quica,” Javi said, containing his rage.

 “Aló. Meirda. ¿Quién es la mierda?” He could hear his voice begin to panic.

“Hola, Quica ¿Cómo te va, amigo?” he calmly replied.

“Hijo de puta. ¿Quien es este?” Quica yelled into the receiver.

Javi took a breath before saying, “Cálmate, Quica. No te pongas nervioso. ¿Que pasa, Quica?”

“¿Quién la mierda crees que eres, perra?” Quica replied as he hung up the phone.

Javi looked over to Trujillo. “It wasn’t long enough. Call him again.” They were trying to track his cell signal to find his car from the sky.

He took a deep breath and redialed the number. “Aló,” Quica said into the phone, clearly agitated.

“Quica,” Javi said, “¿Que pasa, Quica?” Quica didn’t answer him. Javi could hear his breathing pick up. “Quica, Quica, Quica,” he added, drawing out Quica’s name to keep him on the phone longer. “¿Qué hora es, Quica? ¿Qué estás haciendo, Quica?”

There was still no answer. “Quica…”

“Bastardo,” Quica said before hanging up.

Javi glanced at Trujillo. “We got him,” he said.

Without missing a beat, Javi and Steve hopped in their Jeep. “Go right,” Javi said. Steve jerked the wheel right. “Perez, cerca de toda la 4ta calle,” he ordered over the radio. “Go straight.”

Steve obediently followed Javi’s directions. “We need to go this way to cut him off.”

A car flew by in front of them. “There! Follow him!” Steve turned right again and gassed the car. Javi could feel his heart racing. He couldn’t see anyone in the backseat of this car, but if they could get La Quica, he was one step closer to bringing her home. “Follow him!” he exclaimed again.

Trujillo came over the radio, “Todas las unidades, prepárate para la obra.”

Javi felt a few tears well in his eyes. He needed to keep a clear head, in case she wasn’t there. He was so close to finding her, and he couldn’t hold in the apprehension any more. “To the right!”

Search Bloc’s team cut off Quica, who slammed on the brakes. He took off running down the street. Javi and Steve did the same and chased after him, guns drawn. Javi fired a few times in the air, causing La Quica to hunker down and stumble a bit, but he kept running. Javi then aimed and hit him in the leg, causing him to go down and drag himself to the end of a ravine, where Search Bloc was waiting for him. Steve beat Javi to La Quica, and punched him several times. Javi pulled him off before landing a few himself. “Peña!” Trujillo exclaimed over the radio, “you better get your ass back up here.”

His heart raced to the point he thought it was going to burst out of his chest. He looked at Steve. “Don’t get your hopes up, Javi,” he said, trying to keep him level headed.

Javi knew he was right. She might not even be up there, but he ran like she was anyway. He ran as fast as he could, ready to scoop her into his arms and never let her go. He ran uphill to the cars that were blocking traffic, and immediately his heart dropped when he saw a group of Search Bloc gathered around the opened trunk. “Trujillo,” he roared.

Trujillo moved everyone out of the way as Javi ran up to the sight. His legs collapsed from under him when he saw her tied, blindfolded, and bleeding in the back of the car. She wasn’t moving, and if she was breathing, it was so faint, he couldn’t see it. He rested his head on the bumper and let out a small whimper. Steve calmly walked up behind him and rested a hand on his shoulder. He looked up at his partner before standing. Javi placed his hands under her shoulders and legs, lifting her out of the trunk, and into his lap as he sat on the curb, holding her against him. Finally, he was able to breath again.

Translations

El está loco. Primero esa bomba, ¿y ahora la novia de un agente de la DEA? - He’s crazy. First the bomb, and now a DEA agent’s girl?

Era amigo de Carrillo.  Ese hijo de puta vendrá por ella y traerá el infierno con él.  - He was friends with Carrillo. That motherfucker is going to come for her and bring hell with him.

No mierda  Acabamos de firmar nuestras propias órdenes de muerte, Blackie. - No shit. We just signed our own death warrants, Blackie.

No tengo ninguna información para ti, pero necesito tu ayuda. - I don’t have information, but I need your help.

¿Que vas a hacer por mi? - What are you going to do for me?

Te pagaré. - I’ll pay you.

Trato. - Deal.

Escuché que Blackie y La Quica se la llevaron. Ella está en algún lugar de Bogotá. - I heard that Blackie and La Quica took her. She is somewhere in Bogota.

¿Dónde? - Where?

Estoy...investigando. - I am investigating.

En el segundo en que encuentres algo, llámame. Quiero estar ahí. - The second you find something, call me. I want to be there.

¿Gabriela está aquí? - Is Gabriela here?

Sí, Javi. Ella esta arriba. - Yes, Javi. She’s upstairs.

Gracias. - Thank you.

¡Vete, cabrone! - Get out asshole!

Lo siento, Javi. Lo siento mucho. Ellos iban a matarme. - I’m sorry, Javi. I’m so sorry. They were going to kill me.

Ella tiene una herida en la cabeza desagradable. - She has a terrible head injury.

Limpiarla. Pablo quiere que enviemos un video a la embajada. - Clean her up. Pablo wants us to send a video to the embassy.

Nosotros estamos jugando con fuego. - We are playing with fire.

Estas bien, señorita. - Everything’s fine, ma’am.

Tal vez podríamos divertirnos un poco con este después del video. - Perhaps we could have a little fun with this one after the video.

Sí. Quiero ver qué te hace tan especial para la DEA. - Yes. I want to see what makes you so special to the DEA.

Estoy embarazada. - I’m pregnant.

Escobar tiene un mensaje para los responsables de mantener a su familia en peligro: Mientras mi familia esté en peligro, la tuya también. Mantener a mi familia seguro, o te enviaré su cabeza en una caja. - Escobar has a message for those responsible for keeping his family in danger: While my family is in danger, so is yours. Keep my family safe, or I will send you her head in a box.

Patrón, Los Pepes se están expandiendo. Los Galones están trabajando con ellos ahora. No podemos enfrentarnos a un enemigo tan grande. Sí, sí. Ella está viva. ¿Dónde? Medellín. Sí, Patrón. Gracias. Hasta luego. - Los Pepes are expanding. The Gallons are working with them now. We cannot take on an enemy this large. Yes, yes she is alive. Where? Medellín. Yes, boss. Thanks. See you later.

Ustedes no me pueden hacer una mierda. De Greiff nos ofreció amnistía. - You guys can't do shit to me. De Greiff offered us amnesty.

Cierto. Pero tienes que hablar para conseguirlo. - That's right. But you have to talk to get it.

¿Quieres negociar, gringo? Te voy a dar algo. Algo pequeño. - You want to negotiate, gringo? I’ll give you something. Something small.

Encontraron residuos explosivos en tus manos. En tu chaqueta, en todas partes. Te culparán por esa bomba. - They found explosive residue on your hands. On your jacket, everywhere. They're going to blame you for that bomb.

No tuve nada que ver con eso. - I had nothing to do with that.

Lo sabemos. Sabemos que no fue idea tuya. Sabemos que no eres el jefe. No dejes que te culpen por esto. No dejes que te vean como el que mató a todos esos niños inocentes. - We know that. We know it wasn't your idea. We know you're not the boss. Don't let them blame you for this. Don't let them see you as the one who killed all those innocent children.

Ayúdanos y te ayudaremos. Danos a Pablo. - Help us help you. Give us Pablo.

No puedo darte Pablo. - I can’t give you Pablo.

¡El siguiente es para tu cabeza! ¿Dónde la están reteniendo? ¡Habla, cabrone! - The next one is for your head. Where are they keeping her? Talk, Cabrone!

“¡Yo hablaré! ¡Yo hablaré! La Quica la tiene en una casa segura en Medellín. Sabían que estabas escuchando sus conversaciones, así que la trasladaron anoche. - I'll talk. I'll talk. La Quica has her in a safe house in Medellín. They knew you were listening to their conversations, so they moved her last night.

¿Dónde in Medellín? - Where in Medellín?

Pablo está declarando la guerra a Judy Moncada. Quiere que La Quica junte tanto dinero como pueda. Probablemente esté en movimiento con él. - Pablo is declaring war on Judy Moncada. He wants La Quica to gather as much money as he can. She's probably on the move with him.

Eso es todo lo que sé. Lo prometo. - That’s all I know. I swear!

¿La llevaste? - Did you take her?

No tuve elección. - I had no choice.

Aló. Meirda. ¿Quién es la mierda? - Hello? Shit. Who the fuck is this?

Hola, Quica ¿Cómo te va, amigo? - Hello, Quica. How’s it going, friend?

Hijo de puta. ¿Quien es este? - Motherfucker. Who is this?

Cálmate, Quica. No te pongas nervioso. ¿Que pasa, Quica? - Calm down, Quica. You don’t need to be nervous. What’s up, Quica?

¿Quién la mierda crees que eres, perra? - Who the fuck do you think you are, bitch?

¿Que pasa, Quica? ¿Qué hora es, Quica? ¿Qué estás haciendo, Quica? - What’s up, Quica? What time is it, Quica? What are you doing, Quica?

Bastardo. - Bastard

Tag List

@magneticbucky​ @larakasser​ @pedropascalownsmyheart​ @wander-lustbabe​ @frietiemeloen​

[royallyprincesslilly]

{Title: Love, Maybe? {37}*

Chris Evans X Reader OFC Vixen Giovanni

Warning: Cursing, Plot, Fluff, Slow Burn

Word Count: 3.7K

Summary: After a night of drunkenness you wake up next to warm, hot as hell body, a migraine and no memory of the night before. When you come to realize that the hot body belongs to none other than Hollywood’s golden boy Chris Evans you freak out. As events unfold you become even more panicked to find out you got married in your drunken haze. What else is there to do but get it annulled, right? Before walking away, you share one more night of molten kisses and passion. Three years later you are still living with the repercussions of your brash decisions, but the surprises don’t stop there. The past has a way of coming back and have you questioning is this fate that you’ve been running from, hell could it have been love, maybe?

NOTE: **Italic texts is an inner Vixen thought. Bold Italic texts is an inner Chris thought. 

**Loosley Edited/Proofread**

Thank you guys for reading!!!! If you enjoyed this please LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG. 😊❤❤️

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 37: Revelations

-Vixen-

“Mama!”

 You dropped your bag and bound across the lawn as she ran to you. once you made it to her you dropped to your knees and pulled her into your arms.

 “Oh princess, I missed you so much.”

 “I miss you.” Ella spread her hands over your face and felt it as if she were trying to memorize it. you kissed all over her face until you stopped at her head. She hugged you and you just sat there inhaling the scent of her head. It was a scent you loved more than air. Studies proved that mothers were inclined to like the scent of their children’s heads no matter what. You remembered as a baby you’d just hold her and breathe in her scent. Nothing had changed even now.

 “Hey there, do I get one of those?”

 Ella pulled from you the minute she saw Chris and hugged him with just as much force as she hugged you. You smiled watching the exchange.

 “How’s my princess?”

 “Good.” He lifted her into his arms which allowed you to stand from the grass and dirt. They chatted quietly before he raised her into the air and twirled her around. She loved it and laughed with glee.

 “Hey.”

 Nex stepped beside you and watched father and daughter with a sweet smile. “Hi. How are things?”

 “Good, she was good. A lot better than usual when you’re out of town.”

 “That’s good.”

 You couldn’t take your eyes off the two of them. For some reason, this felt different than it had a few days ago. You didn’t know why, and you didn’t want to think about why. Chris glanced at you, but the look felt cold, distant, different. All morning things felt different, he wasn’t touchy, or flirty and it shouldn’t have mattered because it wasn’t like it was normal behavior between the two of you. It wasn’t. still, it tripped you up. his manners never faded but that extra warmth was gone. During the plane ride whenever you caught him watching you he was the one to break the gaze and every time he did you felt the chill of it.

 Turning from him and Ella you walked to the house. Maybe you needed space from him. maybe two days was too much to have been in close quarters. Lines were blurring for you.

 “Anthony still here?”

 “Yes, he leaves tonight though,” Nexus answered with a smile. Her happiness was so obvious, and it made you so happy.

 “Have I told you how happy I am for you this week?”

 She laughed and shook her head trying to shrug you off, but she couldn’t. She still had that smile. “Where’s mom and dad?”

 “On a date at some garden. They’ve been increasingly disgusting to be around, all kissy and hugged up. Uugh!”

 You smiled. Your parents were still madly in love. Some days you wanted to have a relationship like them when you were old and others you thought it was too impossible. Once in your room, you kicked off your shoes and dropped your purse on the bed.

 “So, how are things?”

 “Oh the restaurant is good, crisis averted. I was able to straighten things out. I didn’t expect to spend an added fifteen thousand dollars, but I think it’ll be an easy recoup,” you informed.

 “I definitely wasn’t talking about the restaurant. You and Chris alone in San Francisco, your stomping grounds. How were things?”

 “Oh fine. It all went fine.” You knew that was one too many fines, but you didn’t know what else to say. you really didn’t want to talk about things, not yet at least.

 “Okay.” The way she said it you knew she knew. The beauty with Nex was she knew when to push and when not to. She didn’t now.

 “Nex, I’m filthy and kind of just want a little time to digress.”

 “Yeah. Um, Anthony and I were going to make dinner. Any request?”

 “Nope, whatever you put together will be fine. Thanks, Nex.” You smiled but it didn’t reach your eyes.

 When she left you stood there in the silence for a few minutes then went into action. You needed to move. After changing into some leggings and a tank you went out the back toward the forest and took off. Traction beneath your feet always helped. It felt especially good now because it kind of felt like you were running away from whatever was giving you stress. You were running from him.

 Without knowing which direction you were going you just ran and focused only on the path in front of you and the music booming in your ears. you pushed yourself to go further and further even when you felt you’d reached your limit. Ignoring that alarm in your brain that always sounded when you were near overexertion you continued on until your legs gave out sending you face first to the ground and into unconsciousness.

 When you came to, the sun was setting and you were on the ground. Grunting you rolled onto your back and stared into the darkening sky.

 “Fuck.”

 Your forehead hurt as did your knees. As you were going to get up, you just decided to lay there a little longer and appreciate the beauty of the sky and the calm of your surroundings. there was something about being in the middle of nowhere that you liked. You liked that here you could hear yourself think even though you really didn’t like to these days. These days your thoughts brought more chaos than they were worth.

 When you made it back to the house it was night and thanks to you leaving your phone you had no idea what time it was. You did know you’d been gone for a while. When you stepped inside and made your way toward the steps Ella ran out.

 “Mama!”

 “Hi baby.” You stooped to meet her with a smile.

 “You doety.” She brushed her small hand across your cheek for emphasis.

 “Am I? Guess mama needs a shower, huh.”

 Everyone else came out with worried expressions.

 “Where have you been pumpernickel?” Your father’s authoritative tone was not missed.

 “Uh, I went for a run. Lost track of time.”

 “You’re filthy, and you’re bleeding. Are you hurt?” Your mother’s inquiry had everyone even more concerned.

 “Mama hoet?” You could hear the whine in her voice and knew tears were coming.

 “No, no I’m not.” Ella began crying as she boyfriend her face into Chris’ legs.

“Hey, no it’s okay,” he said as he lifted her into his arms.

 “Princess I’m not hurt. See.” You wiped at your forehead, looked at your hand and saw the blood but wiped it on your already dirty clothes. “See, not hurt. I’m okay baby.” Ella examined your face, but her eyes remained on your forehead. “I promise princess. I’m okay.” You smiled hoping it would convince her. She leaned closer and kissed your forehead.

 “Kiss da boo-boo.”

 “Thank you princess. I’m going to go get cleaned up. I’ll be right back.”

 You hurried upstairs and in your bedroom then into the shower. You hadn’t even realized you’d hurt yourself. Taking the time to wash your hair you managed to be in and out in twenty minutes. When you walked out into the bedroom Chris was sitting on the seat at the foot of the bed.

 “What happened?”

 “I went for a run, lost track of time.”

 “How’d you get hurt?”

 You rummaged through the drawers for something to wear, ignoring his question.

 “Vix.”

 “I passed out, hit my head. I’m fine.” He was up and to you in seconds turning you to face him. He cupped your cheeks and intently stared at you.

 “Are you okay?”

 “Yes, I’m fine. I promise.”

 “I’m not a two-year-old. Are you okay?” Staring in his eyes you searched for something, anything. You didn’t know what you were looking for.

 “Yes, I’m fine. I’ll put on a scarf and she won’t even notice this.”

 He nodded then stepped back and walked to the door. “Meet you down there.”

 You were thoroughly confused with his hot and cold act. Dinner was eventless and relatively calm. You kept one ear on the conversation but got lost in your thoughts and watching Ella who seemed glued to Chris. She was completely attached and half of you felt relief but the other felt fear. Attachments were hard to break and get over, you knew from experience and though you knew you were making the same moves all over again as if you hadn’t learned a thing. You were growing attached to him all over again, this time you felt it may be more serious than that.

     -Chris-

He was going to lose you. he felt it. It was his biggest fear and he felt as if it were inevitable. Being in San Francisco with you seeing your life and everything you had and didn’t need him for really showed him just what he wanted. He wasn’t prepared to want it as badly as he did. He wanted you and Ella even though he had no idea how a life could work for you. Everything in San Francisco showed him how much he didn’t want to lose you, either of you. It showed him his greatest fear.

 Every time he saw you with Ella it only made him love you more. There was something about seeing you, the mother of his child love, and nurture his child that gave him this primal instinct to possess, protect and love. The days following San Fran only deepened the fear he had of losing you. Every time he tried to talk to you about it, it never seemed like the right time, none of his words seemed enough. There was no way of knowing where your head or heart was, you were that good at masking yourself. He thought to just spill his guts but really didn’t know if he could take the rejection.

 He kept his distance and fought the instinct to just fall into place with the two of you. he let you do your thing and he did his. At nights he laid awake thinking about you and everything you’d experienced together, and though he wanted to go to you he didn’t.

 The night was a beautiful one, the sky was clear and the stars were all out. He watched Ella play with her cousins and his sisters and a content sigh escaped him.

 “Oh, a content man is a happy man,” his mother from behind him.

 “Not always.”

 “Are you happy?” He thought about it for a few moments then nodded.

 “How can I not be? You’ve seen that little girl.” She smiled and nodded.

 “I have, she’s addictive and even cuter than you when you were a baby.”

 “That’s harsh maw, but I’ll accept it only because it’s her.”

Silence fell between them as they both watched Ella.

 “How’d the talk with Vixen go?”

 “There has been no talk,” he replied.

 “Why?”

 Again, he sighed but this one ended with a groan.

 “Talk to me, honey.”

 “It’s nothing maw, I’m good.” She studied him for a few seconds and he was sure she saw right through him but she nodded.

 “Okay.”

 It was then you approached holding Ella. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

 “Not at all, hello pretty girl,” his mother exclaimed to a blushing Ella.

 “She wanted to come over and sit with her da-da,” Vixen informed. A smile spread across his face as he held his arms out. You handed her off and she snuggled close to him. yep, she had him wrapped around her finger, he thought.

 “Vixen, wanna take a quick walk?”

 Your eyes were wide as you looked at his mother. “Uh—okay.” You looked at him but he was equally as curious as you were. The two of you walked off together and he wished he could be one of those stars in the sky to hear what that was all about.

   -Vixen-

 “Why do you look so afraid?”

 “Uh, no reason. Just—cautious I guess.”

 “Don’t be, this is a friendly walk. I like you Vixen. I really do.”

 Your shock was evident. “Really?”

 “God yes. You are one hundred percent different than any woman Chris has ever been with. They’re all usually so compliant, they bend backward and forward to please him and always seem as if they’re happy to be under his arm. You don’t give off any of that. You have a brain, you use it, and that mouth too. You don’t bend over to please him and it shows how strong your character is, how strong you are.”

 “Thank you, Lisa. I appreciate you saying that.”

 “As a mother, you don’t imagine any woman being good enough for your son. I’m not different, I have two of them too. Scott has found a great one but that always left Chris. I worried he’d never find the one, never experience what it’s like to have the kind of love that inspired Shakespeare. Here you are.”

 You pinched your lips and looked down. “Lisa, I don’t know what you think is going on but there is nothing--.”

 “I’m not blind Vixen. He may be, but I’m not.” The two of you stared at each other and you sighed. She saw right through you. You dropped your head back and stared up to the stars.

 “You realize Shakespeare's sonnets usually ended in heartache and death right.”

 She laughed and nodded, you joined in unable to stop. When the two of you stopped you sighed then groaned.

 “Then rewrite history. It’s your sonnet, your love story.”

 “Lisa--.”

 “Think about this. You met, fell out, found each other again and now you’re connected for the rest of your life. That sounds like poetic justice.”

 “I don’t think you’re using that right.”

 “Oh well. think about it,” Lisa emphasized.

 “I have, I feel like that is all I think about. It’s in my face way too much, with Ella, here, in San Francisco. I think about it, Lisa. I don’t want to anymore.”

 “You’re running. You see what’s right in front of you but you’re running,” she deduced.

 Fuck it, you were running. The thing with running is if you’ve done it for a while it’s hard to stop, you run without even realizing it.

 “Okay, I have one last unsolicited nugget. Fate only brings us what is meant and letting something go and it coming back should not be let go again especially if it's what you want. Fate does not take kindly to being shucked twice.”

Her words hit you hard. For years you’d felt like you were being haunted and then when you saw him again, it was as if fate was just getting more and more persistent. Now here you were—fate again. Lisa stood and walked away leaving you there to stare at the sky which was supposed to evoke calm but wasn’t working as you felt everything compounding on you.

 A few hours later, Ella was back in your arms and quickly falling asleep. You’d spent many nights like this, and you couldn’t imagine wanting to do anything else, ever. You slowly stared over every single feature and smiled to yourself seeing the similarities between her and Chris’ face. she was the constant reminder of your night of hope, opening up, and not letting go. While she was pleasant looking and an absolute joy, the pain you experienced because of it was not.

 “Vix?”

 You turned to see Chris standing there beside the gazebo.

 “Hey.” He was staring at Ella with a solemn smile.

 “I can’t get over how great you look with her. It’s like you were meant for her. Fate made you her mom.”

 You groaned at that word again. It was following you.

 “You’re an amazing mom to her,” he complimented. You looked back to her and smiled.

 “She’s an easy kid.” Chris stepped closer and paced in front of you before he looked at you.

 “Since meeting her and seeing you again—I don’t know I feel like I’m this new man, the man I’ve always wanted to be. A man I can be proud of, a man I never was because something was missing. She was missing, Vixen.” He stepped closer to you, looked down at Ella and back to you. the look on his face was pained but chaotic. He looked as if he’d been running for hours or his mind had run a marathon.

 “I honestly have been shouting to anyone who asks that I want a family, I want kids. I want to do the bedtime tuck-ins, family gatherings, tea parties, dress up, all of it. the other night she colored my nails with markers and told me not to wash my hands. I didn’t. I kept them on till morning so she saw how much I loved them. It’s like my heart is no longer in my chest. It’s outside my body. I would do anything for her Vix—anything for you.”

 The butterflies in your stomach were not quitting, neither was the flutter of your heart. Chris touched your arm, his hand was burning hot, but it made you shiver.

 “I fucked this up once,” he began.

 “Chris--.”

 “Please let me get this out. I don’t want to fuck this up again, not this time.”

 He looked like he was struggling as if he was at a loss for words but he had so much to say. You had no idea what to say to help him, you were struggling too. You couldn’t believe what he was saying. In your arms, Ella began to fuss and wriggle.

 “Da-da.” She groaned and began whining.

 “Shhh, it’s okay. I’m here,” Chris soothed taking her from your arms. He stood there effortlessly rocking her as if he’d done it all her life. You watched him pepper kisses across her forehead and temple then your eyes met. You were still speechless.

 “I’ll take her to bed,” Chris whispered. You nodded and watched him walk back toward the house.

 You stood there for several long minutes just trying to marinate over what just happened. You couldn’t wrap your head around it, but you also couldn’t escape the feeling of a need for him, to be close to him. When you made it to the house and upstairs you peeped into Ella’s room and there he was in the dim light or her night light sitting at her bedside just watching her sleep. It was an action you’d done countless times. Time always passed so quickly when you did it—too quickly.

 Suddenly Chris turned to look at you then kissed the top of Ella’s head and turned slowly walked toward you.

 “God, he’s gorgeous.”

His lips lowered to yours for a sweet kiss, one that promised more. When he pulled back he pressed his forehead to yours. “You’re the gorgeous one,” he whispered as he walked out the room and softly closed the door. You hadn’t realized you’d said it out loud.

 Chris took your hand and led you down the hall past your room to his. You walked in and stopped in the middle of the room and just looked around. When you felt him behind you, you melted into him as he kissed your neck and shoulders. Then Chris scooped you into his arms and carried you to his bed. As he gently laid you down he never broke eye contact with you, as he never spoke. You didn’t care words were overrated.

 As your bodies came together and expressed what your mouths couldn’t speak everything in you hummed from the pleasure he gave. He was gentle and went slow. It was as if he were whispering to your body, pleading with it to reveal its secrets, it felt as if he had a direct line to your pleasure and he mercilessly tapped into it. Before long you were panting and moaning his name trying to keep as quiet as possible. Even when the urgency in you reached its peak he still went slow, prolonging the sensations for as long as possible. Every time your eyes met you saw so much in the depths of the blue pools. You came with his name on your lips and hearing your whispered one in your ear.

His scent woke you. It was a scent you were already used to, a scent you smelled everywhere. You were hooked. You cuddled closer to him and heard the deep rumble of his moan in his chest.

“Good morning.”

 You smiled and looked up at him to see him grinning. “Good morning.” He kissed you once, then twice and pulled you close.

 “How’d you sleep?”

 “Good.” Chris slid down to come face to face with you his smile wide.

 “That’s good. I’m glad.” His lips met yours again and in no time he was rolling onto you.

 “Da-da!” The loud shout of your daughter had the two of you gasping and freaking out.

 Chris rolled off of you and looked around then to you clearly asking what you should do. You knew how fast her tiny legs could carry her and knew you had no time.

 “Act normal,” you whispered and piled the blankets over your head just in time for Ella to burst through the doors and in the room. She hopped and climbed onto the bed and crawled to him.

 “Good morning princess. How are you?”

 “Good.”

 From the feel of the bed, you bet she was tumbling or jumping on him. She had the energy of a kangaroo when she woke. You could hear Chris’ laughter. They even sounded alike when they laughed. Apple meet tree, you thought.

 “Mama no bed. Where mama?”

 “Mama’s not in the bed?”

 “No. Da-da eat mama?”

 You couldn’t stop the snort that came out because that statement was one hundred percent correct. You stifled it and tried to remain completely still. After a few seconds the blankets were pulled off and there she was. Her eyes lit up and she dropped onto you.

 “Mama! Ound her da-da. I ound you.”

 “You found me.” You glanced to Chris who had his lips pinched but his eyes looked to be asking if this was okay.

 “Mama, da-da, mama, da-da, yay!” She clapped her hands and buried herself between the two of you and continued to chatter. When you caught Chris’ eye he had a soft smile on his lips as he looked between the two of you. he then laid down and held the two of you cuddled close.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

***If you want to be tagged please SEND AN ASK SO IT WILL BE EASIER FOR ME TO KEEP TRACK OF. Thank you for reading!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

TagList:

 @airis-paris14 @thiccdaddy-mbaku @wakandas-vibranium @wakanda-inspired @theunsweetenedtruth @ashanti-notthesinger @reignsxjackson @halfrican-heat @ambthegamer @simplyyamberr  @muse-of-mbaku @sisterwifeudaku @mejustme06  @ilcb7 @leahnicole1219  @destinio1 @maliadestiny @drsunshine97 @blowmymbackout @purplehairgawdess @thehuntoyobun @wakandamama @wakandawinning @profilia @zxddy-panther @h-challa @babygirlofwakanda @misswakanda2018 @ororowrites@hutchj @myfavemarvelfanfics @lavitabella87 @afraiddreamingandloving @autumn242 @purple-apricots @skysynclair19 @hersheyskissesss-blog @blue-ishx @90sinspiredgirl @tchallaswife @tchallamakesmeh0lla @turn-thy-paige @blackchickfics @blackpantherismyish @inlovewithmakeupcomicsanimelove @naturally-bri @flawlesslybeautiful14 @qweentbh@lunaerly @theoutereffect@twilight-sapphire-lover @pupyluv247 @stark-red19 @cockyboysandsugarism@maverickabull @madbadsiren @aykanna @myaw731 @ruruly20 @mixedmelanin @brittyevans @bezzywazhere@laketaj24  @soulsparker @theresnomoregoodones @syreanne@loveandcigarillos @heyauntieeee @heybriheyyy @wakanda-bcth @uhlxis  @maliadestiny @dadinhas-heat @yaachtynoboat711 @geeksareunique @bultalongthewayside @ajspencer1892 @captiansaveasmut @imaginewhoever @terrablaze514 @starsshines-blog @scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade @darkandlovely94 @sithlordslut @wavyyc @naturalistamisslyn @nigarachi15 @madamslayyy @blackandfair @kreolemami @mylastnameisthe-fish @kaykay0829@chaneajoyyy @tequilajay27 @blacklotus-of-the-black-kingdom @slimmiyagi @im5ftbutmythroat66 @jaeee-http@madhatterhelsing @sunflowerpsalms @wakanda-shit-is-that @deliciousstreetkidcroissant @jecourt @vebner37 @disneysdarlingdiva @melaninmarvel @alanastormborn@dolphinpink310 @yourwonderbelle  @ohleucothea @queentearra @bitchbetterhavemydinner @fentybabyy @kaykay4454fan @priya212 @kitkit1690 @chrismarcs @beautycomesindifferentformsworld @blackpantherimagines @ovohanna24 @sweetpeachjones @kslo000 @nubian-queen18 @omgsuperstarg  @airis-paris14 @sisterwifeudaku   @mejustme06 @ilcb7 @leahnicole1219 @destinio1 @drsunshine97  @blue-ishx @inlovewithmakeupcomicsanimelove @prettyprincessushio @treeondrea  @ursapharoh05  @blackpinup22 @kaytauru @big3gocandykahn @kissingpineapples @wildaboutchrisevans   @fitfineandstayingalive @misspooh @michele-onel @gorjiss @blacklotus-of-the-black-kingdom @muva-milaje @limbo-limbo-limbo @awkwardlyabstract @blxck-brxndie  @meeky-imagines @inlovewith3 @metalarmlover @mellowjellow6 @scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade @thatrandomhetaliachick @missdeerstalker15 @ursapharoh05 @treeondrea @ovohanna24 @marvelheaux @romanceoftheeveryday @mufasathatniggatho @cltex84 @sweetbearcolorgarden @msincognito67 @mosagram @lunaerly @mar-ta-3 @ljstraightnochaser @lewatigress @akimi-youngblood @bekahdean87 @jasmindaughteroftheworld @cocooned-butterfly @emoniclark22 @chereedrop619 @theblulife @niggarachi15 @drsunshine97 @msincognito67 @missdeerstalker15 @wakandamama  @avenger-marvel-fan @arieljamiyla @vibranium-soul @monae-boss @queenxchallaxkillamonger@amirra88 @jaeee-http @omg-itsnadi @fonville-designs @sydneebleu @cherrystainedlipsbaby @behindthesehazeleyes27 @areubeingserved  @kelbabyblue @academic-glowup  @patzammit @yourwonderbelle @pennywisesmistress @squeackygee @noramushrooms @titty-teetee @ab-baybay @kreolemami @impossiblegiantrebelbasketball @dangerouslovefanfic @heladoom @renesmeeharelds @zaddysqueen7 @alyxkbrl @hello-therree @taylorveebee @a-dizzle777 @deidrashouseofpain @coldmuffinbanditshoe  @evemej  @chaselovinggert @ben-wyxtt @designerwriterchic @chrisgalore @jennmurawski13 @rynabarnesrogers @yunggyeezyy @kemkem101 @dearkyrainez @minton131@momobaby227 @jesseswartzwelder @briellableu @browneyes9125 @mjey12  

[ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes]

Blue Eyes Part 10

Summary: After the Garrison is shot up, the youngest Shelby daughter finds a new home in London. She strips herself of her last name and tries to live a peaceful life far away from her brothers’ chaos in Birmingham. But fate leads her right back into it after she runs into Alfie Solomons.

Part 10: Tommy visits Alfie, Charlie is taken.

           Alfie’s fingers drummed impatiently on his desk. He was itching to just get the meeting with Tommy over with. He’d suffered enough as far as he was concerned. Seeing Ella cry, being the reason for her tears. Unbearable. But his hands were tied, what else could he reasonably do?

           Still, Tommy was prolonging the visit. Taking his time walking to Alfie’s office, sitting down, adjusting his tie pin (pretentious ass), and painstakingly lighting a cigarette.

           Alfie stifled a groan in the back of his throat and rolled his eyes. “For fuck’s safe, what?” His patience was wearing unbelievably thin. Another five seconds and he was sure he would start doling out well-deserved threats.

           “You made my sister cry,” Tommy informed him as if he didn’t already know.

           The man narrowed his eyes. “I did? Me? I’m the one who made her cry? You sure ‘bout that, mate?” He hissed.

           It was infuriating that nothing he could ever do would disturb the Brummie. He simply raised an eyebrow and watched the end of his cigarette slowly burn away. “What can I do to make you change your mind about my proposition?”

           “Proposition.” Alfie laughed bitterly and toyed with a pen to keep his hands busy. “Tommy, you’ve been ‘round the block before. Surely you must know that a woman doesn’t want to be offered up as a token for loyalty. So what you can do, right, is take back your words and leave me be on the matter. Sound good?” When he didn’t get an immediate answer, he switched subjects. “You’re here to talk business, meeting the Russians tonight. I must urge you to inquire about Faberge eggs. You can toss ‘bout diamonds and sapphires or whatever, yeah, but that’s the real prize, innit? With a couple of fine pieces and an egg, you’ll easily get your fill of forty grand.” What came across as helpful was simply Alfie setting up the opening stages of his own plan.

           Tommy nodded and looked interested in the possibility. “I can do that. They’re tricky but perhaps you’ll be able to persuade them a little further.”

           He crossed his arms over his chest and grunted in agreement. “Whatever I can do, mate.”

           But apparently, the Blinder wasn’t done with the previous issue. “So you have no intention of marrying my sister.”

           Alfie nearly blew a gasket. “You fucking Birmingham folk don’t ever let go of things, do ya?” He snapped.

           Calmly, Tommy tapped a bit of ash off his cigarette and cleared his throat. “It’s a simple question, Mr. Solomons.”

           “Don’t think it’s any of your business, mate. Never has and frankly, it never will.” He growled. “That’s my decision, innit?”

           “I’ll take that as a no then.”

           “Fuck off.”

           Tommy took one last drag before standing up. “Just trying to clarify, Alfie.” He buttoned his coat and flicked the cigarette into the ashtray on the desk that was really only used by him whenever he visited. “I’ve got other alliances I can make. You think our kin should stay with our kin. Since Ella isn’t Jewish and you’re so adamant about that, I s’pose it’s only fair to uphold our own roots. I’ve got inquiries from a family of Travelers.”

           Alfie’s hand slowly went to his waistband where his pistol was tucked away. Anger in his blood started to rise to a boiling point. His fingers curled around the pistol, ready to pull it out on the Blinder for what seemed like the hundredth time. It was a miracle Tommy wasn’t already riddled with bullets so late in their business relationship.

           “They’re worse than we are. You’d think we were the poshest folk you’ve ever seen if you met them.” Tommy continued to bait Alfie, taunt him and get him to the point of no return. Get him to realize that Ella wasn’t to be toyed with and her brother wouldn’t tolerate this game Alfie was playing with her. “Savages, really. But they’re effective, aye? An alliance with them would give me enough power to start taking more areas. Maybe areas a little closer to Camden.”

           “Tommy, I swear to whatever fucking pagan being you believe in, I’m going to blow your brains all over this fucking office.” Alfie’s face was starting to go red with rage and he was ready to pull out his pistol. Of course, he knew the man was just trying to rile him up. Manipulate him into doing his bidding. Ride or die, that’s how they both operated. But Alfie also knew that Tommy was ruthless enough to go through with what he was threatening. He’d made an alliance with the Lees by marrying John off. He very well could do the same to Ella. And Alfie would lose her for good. It made his heart compress painfully at the thought.

           Tommy put a hand in his pocket and retrieved something. He approached Alfie’s desk and dropped the small item. “That was the ring my father gave my mother.” He explained in a steady voice, fully aware that Alfie was armed and angry enough to do exactly what he threatened. “I’ll leave it with you for a week. After that week, if you haven’t made your decision, I’ll return and I’ll take it back. Rest assured, Mr. Solomons, after that, the ring will go to someone else who won’t wait.”

           Alfie’s jaw clenched. “I can’t fucking wait to spit on your grave.” He snarled viciously.

           “Neither can I, Alfie,” Tommy responded without skipping a beat and took his leave.

           Alfie loosened his grip on his gun and heaved out an exasperated sigh. He eyed the ring sitting on the desk near the ashtray where Tommy’s still smoking cigarette sat. For a moment, he didn’t even want to touch the thing, convinced it had some gypsy curse on it. But curiosity got the better of him and he picked up the piece of jewelry. It was a simple gold ring that needed a good polishing. Mounted was a round cut topaz stone that was small enough for him to scoff at. No wife of his would wear something so modest.

           But that wasn’t why Tommy gave it to him. It was the sentiment behind the gem that would mean more to Ella.

           Alfie turned the ring around in his fingers for a little bit, his mind racing. What would he do if he learned Ella had been pawned off to some gypsy clan? God was truly testing him. The only woman he ever loved just happened to be the sister of the most infuriating man to ever grace the planet. Just his luck.

           He grumbled a few obscenities under his breath and tucked the ring into his pocket.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

           It was always a strange phenomenon seeing the Shelby Company at work. Socialites mixing with folk who grew up in the slums. Some could say it was possible to move up in the world. To step into another social class and fit right in. Some disagreed. Just because you put on a nice outfit and some gold didn’t make you anything different. You were still the person you were born as just dressed to the nines.

           But Ella thought her brother looked like he fit right in. As he stood in front of the group gathered for the opening of Grace’s foundation, he didn’t look out of place. Even with a Brummie accent, he spoke with the esteem of a businessman. Because that’s what he was. It didn’t matter what he did to make his company rise from the dirt, he conducted business. They all did, to a certain extent. And if Tommy’s predictions were sound, they’d be a legitimate company. Still, the suspicion and fear would linger, there was no denying that. Whispers would continue to float around about how the Shelbys grasped the reins of power.

           After he spoke in front of the gathered crowd, Tommy slipped out of the room. Ella stood and excused herself to Ada who was sitting beside her. She followed her brother out into the hall.

           He leaned against the wall, arms crossed, and eyes fixed on the photograph of his wife. Grace’s serene expression surrounded by wreaths and garlands of flowers. Some of her favorites when she was still alive.

           Ella went to stand beside her brother, touching his shoulder to alert him of her presence. “Doing alright?” She could imagine it was an emotional day for him. He would see the production of his wife’s dream without her there beside him. On top of the added stress of everything else going on.

           He nodded solemnly, his eyes never moving from Grace.

           “Mum’s ring is missing.” There wasn’t concern or anxiety. Ella had a sneaking suspicion of where it had gone. Only her siblings and Polly knew that she kept the family heirloom in her jewelry box. “I couldn’t find it when I was putting on my earrings this morning.”

           “I know,” Tommy answered. “I took it.”

           She glanced over at him, hoping for more of an explanation than he offered. But she wouldn’t get the chance to ask any follow-up questions.

           “The absence of my invitation for this event was obviously an oversight on your part, Mr. Shelby.” The thick Irish accent was unfamiliar to Ella, but Tommy appeared to be well acquainted with it. His jaw immediately clenched as he turned around.

           Ella did the same and saw the priest standing in the hallway. Something about the man gave her a sinking feeling in her gut. Based on Tommy’s reaction, she could assume this was the man that they planned to kill. A man of the cloth.

           “Ah, Miss Shelby, I don’t believe we’ve met.” Father Hughes smiled with malice in his eyes.

           Tommy subtly placed himself in front of his sister, taking a step forward to place her behind his shoulder.

           “The woman who fell in love with the Jew.”

           Ella was unsure how this man had managed to stay alive so long. He’d pissed off the wrong people too many times. People like him didn’t last long when it came to the Peaky Blinders. But she had a feeling there was a reason Tommy was waiting. All it took was the right moment. And certainly in the middle of a social event opening an orphanage in broad daylight was not the right moment.

           But what really sent a chill down her spine was how he seemed to know everything. Things that the average passerby didn’t. He knew about Alfie.

           “Go to the reception, El,” Tommy said quietly.

           “Tom…” She was uneasy about leaving him alone with the priest.

           “I’ll be right there, go.” Her brother replied firmly.

           Reluctantly, Ella nodded and made her way down the hall to find her family. As she passed, Hughes gave her a sickeningly smug smile.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

           Ella couldn’t shake the bad feeling she got from Father Hughes. She stayed close to her family to feel safe, bouncing back and forth when the conversation bored her.

           Ada sighed and tried to soothe Charlie who was fussing loudly. She rocked him back and forth. “He doesn’t want to play with Karl after he took his train.” She shook her head.          

           Ella smiled. “So much like Tommy. Never satisfied when things don’t go his way.” She agreed and tried to hush her nephew to no avail.

           “I know, love, you want dad? Here we go, let’s find him.” Ada decided and headed over to her brother to pass Charlie off.

           Ella lingered by the table with pastries and finger sandwiches but she didn’t have much of an appetite. Her mind was like a switch, flipping from one worry to another. Why did Tommy take their mother’s ring from her jewelry box? What had he talked to the priest about?

           When Ada returned, the sister’s chatted about nonsense. Ella tried to get her mind off her anxiety and hoped she was simply overreacting. But the bad feeling turned into something all too real.

          ��Tommy walked over to them. “Where’s Charles?” He asked with a confused look.

           Ada frowned. “I gave him to you.”

           “Where is he?” Tommy demanded again.

           “He was just here.” Ella felt immediate panic spark in her chest, rising to her throat. “Where could he have gone?”

           Tommy rushed over from family member to family member asking the same question. And within seconds, madness ensued. The Blinders were scattered about, searching the building and running outside to find the missing boy. Ella felt dizzy as she ran through the halls of the new building, trying every door, which was firmly locked.

           “Charlie?!” She shouted, her voice following her through the vast hallways.

           “El!” Ada’s heels clicked across the smooth floor. “They’ve taken him, they took him into a car.”

           “No, they…he was right there!” Ella was shaking with fear. The threat was so close, maybe none of them even realized. The entire time, they had enemies breathing down the back of their neck. If they could simply snatch a toddler in a crowded room with his father right there, then there was no telling what else they could or would do.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

           The rain sounded like pebbles against the window. It was mildly soothing but the night was heightened by anticipation and fear. Polly gently stroked Ella’s hair as they waited in the betting shop.

           Tommy entered like a storm. Dripping from the rain and with a silent fury that filled the room. “Where’s Linda?” He demanded.

           “With Esme.”

           “Esme’s water broke.” John entered from the back door still wearing his coat and hat.

           “I need to know who spoke.” Tommy’s eyes passed from each of his family members in the room. “Our enemies know everything. Everything. I need to know who spoke about business outside.” His voice became more insistent and his steely expression turned paranoid. “I need to know who spoke and who they spoke to, now.”

           Arthur tried to step in but Tommy was already too far gone. The man looked from person to person, his face still stained by the rain.

           “Your wife, Arthur? Or Esme getting cash for cocaine. And you two.” Tommy turned to his sisters. “Back in the family, aye? Out of the blue.”

           Ella’s eyes narrowed. “You think I’d let something like this happen?” She challenged.

           “If anyone has talked about the tunnel to anyone else, I need to know this second!” Tommy snapped.

           She stood and gave him a disappointed glare. “I’m not going to sit around and let you speak to me like this. Not after everything you’ve done to this family.” She could sympathize with her brother. He lost his only son, the only thing of Grace he had left. But somewhere along the line, he’d found himself in that position because of his own choices. Ella left the betting shop and retreated upstairs to her room.

           Tommy looked to the doorway where she disappeared. There was someone else. Someone else who knew. Not only that, it was someone who held that damn egg.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

           Ella spent the night in her room, curled up in bed under the quilts. The rain continued until the morning, leaving a fog over Birmingham. The first thought upon seeing the daylight filtering in through the lace windows was about her nephew’s safety. There wasn’t much more she could do other than pray he was okay.

           It was hardly seven in the morning when there was a brief knock at the door and the knob turning.

           “El, get up.” Tommy entered a second later.

           “I’m still sleeping.” She said even though she was staring at the opposite wall while lying on her side.

           “It wasn’t a request. I need you in the car, now.” He looked disheveled, most likely he didn’t sleep at all that night.

           “I’m not doing any of your dirty work, Tom. Not after the way you spoke to everyone last night.” She made no effort to get up.

           “Ella, fucking get up and be downstairs in two minutes.” He ordered in the voice she used to fear. The voice that used to let her know that she was in trouble. Maybe for telling fortunes at school, biting John’s arm, or hiding from him when they were called inside for dinner at dusk. He had been an authority figure in her life ever since she could remember. But she’d gotten sick of it. Fed up with his complex.

           She sighed heavily and sat up. “I’m only doing this because of Charlie, not because of the way you’re acting now.” She made sure that was clear before he left.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

           Tommy parked outside of a large warehouse that Ella was unfamiliar with. She was sat in the backseat while Michael sat in the passenger seat. Neither of them cared to explain what they were doing there.

           “Wait here,” Tommy ordered firmly and stepped out of the car.

           Ella let out a frustrated sigh. “So he’s just brought us along to make us wait outside?” She lamented to her cousin.

           Michael shrugged and made himself busy by loading his pistol with bullets. “He has a plan.”

           “Yeah, always seems to have some sort of plan.” Ella decided she wasn’t going to just sit in the car and went to step out.

           Michael turned around in the front seat. “He doesn’t want us to…”

           “I’ll be fine.” She cut him off and shut the door behind her. Tucking her pistol in her holster tucked under her fur-lined coat, she made her way into the warehouse.

           Her entrance caused a pause in the conversation. But she was the most surprised when she saw Alfie standing a little bit away from her brother. His blue eyes watched her with a hint of apprehension, unsure what her reaction would be to him.

           Tommy was the first to speak. “Ella, I told you to wait in the car-”

           She didn’t listen and began walking straight for Alfie. The man beside the Jewish gangster tensed up a bit at her fast approach. But Alfie waved him off and let her step right into his space.

           Without a word, she reached into his heavy, black overcoat. Searching his inside pockets until she found what she was looking for. Her mother’s ring.

           Alfie almost looked guilty. Guilty for having it. Guilty for keeping it, instead of giving it back to Tommy. Guilty for holding onto the physical hope that he could still have Ella.

           She held it up to his face. Her lower lip trembled but her eyes didn’t dare move from his. “Why’d he give this to you?” Her voice shook. Everything continued to pack on, putting more and more weight on her shoulders and making her more and more confused. The push and pull was agonizing and she was going to end it.          

           “Ella,” Tommy spoke firmly, trying to get her away from Alfie.

           “Answer me.” She ignored her brother unaware that he had drawn his gun.

           Alfie noticed the pistol. “Go back to the car.” He spoke gently but wanted to get her out of the way.

           “Why did he give this to you?” Ella shouted. Her words echoed through the large warehouse and caused a few birds to spook off their perches.

           The space went silent for a moment, and then Tommy cocked his gun. The metallic clicking sound was too familiar to Ella. Initially, it used to mark the thrill of the hunt. Getting ready to claim a prize after tracking it patiently through the woods. Now it meant death. Retaliation. Fear. Power.

           Ella turned around but didn’t move out of the way. Standing in front of Alfie, she glared at her brother. “Tell me.”

           “Ella, move.” Tommy’s hand didn’t lower but she noticed it was shaking ever so slightly.

           “Why did you give this to him?” She repeated herself.

           “It was a mistake. You can take it back.” Tommy looked past her, over her shoulder at the gangster. “It’s not his to give anymore.”

           “Why?”

           “He left the richest name off the list.” Her brother answered, his eyes were cold.

           “What are you…”

           Tommy’s anger was palpable as he continued to point the gun forward. “He made a deal with the Oddfellows. Told them about the tunnel, told them about the deal with the Soviets.”

           Ella froze for what felt like hours. She didn’t want to turn around and face the man she loved. The man who had held her heart in his hands while he went behind her back. “No…” The word came out long and sounded foreign to even herself. Finally, she faced Alfie again. “You did this?”

           The man was facing two worlds colliding together. Two different faces of his self. The brash, unapologetic, ruthless gangster and the man who found the one person on the planet who saw his vulnerable side. “Things you don’t understand…”

           “Tell me what I don’t understand!” Ella snapped. She was beyond the point of acting patient and listening to the men in her life speak. It was her turn. She’d waited long enough. “Everyone ‘round here thinks I don’t fucking understand anything. So, please, fucking enlighten me. Tell me what I don’t understand!”

           “I told you he couldn’t be trusted,” Tommy spoke up.

           Ella just laughed sarcastically. “And yet you were willing to marry me off to him.” She snarled and pointed at Alfie. “You proud? Proud of what you’ve done? The damage you’ve caused. They’ve got my nephew and we don’t know if he’s even still alive!”

           Alfie couldn’t keep a neutral face. He had no idea about Charlie, no idea what the Oddfellows were up to. But in his anger and humiliation for being lied to, he chose to make a deal.

           Ella closed her fingers around her mother’s ring and walked towards her brother. “Nothing but a pawn to you lot. Isn’t that right, pral?” She gave Tommy a scathing look. “Are we all just pawns? Charlie too? Moving your little pieces ‘cross the board while you stay safe, protected by your soldiers?” She yelled. “Are you both proud? Proud of what you have? Guess what. In the end, when we’ve all died ‘cause of you, you can be comforted by your money. All ‘lone in an empty house, satisfied that you won. Never caring about the people who loved you!”            

           “I didn’t know about Charlie,” Alfie replied honestly. “But if your brother wants to fucking kill me now then let him do it. Step aside and let him. But don’t you fucking dare tell me that I never loved you. Were ready to give you that ring because Tommy were threatening to pass you off to someone else. And I’ll be damned if I let him use you.”

           “If you loved me you never would’ve gone against my family!” Ella matched his volume and clenched her hands into fists. The topaz gem on the ring digging into her palm as her knuckles whitened. “You wouldn’t have put an innocent little boy in danger!”

           “Then step aside, let him shoot me!” Alfie stepped towards her, his cane slamming down onto the concrete. “That’d solve your problems, love. Once ol’ Alfie Solomons is dead and gone, you won’t have any more fucking issues. You can go off with your family and forget ‘bout me. Let me pay for me fucking sins, step aside.”

           Everything inside of Ella became so wound up the more he spoke. Her entire body trembled from all the immense pressure pressing down on her heart. “That’d solve your problems.”

           “I never stopped loving you!” Alfie barked over her voice. “Not once, even when I made this deal. And I fucking hated myself ‘cause of it. The world ain’t built for us, love, no matter what.” He pointed his cane at Tommy. “He’s always going to want to do away with me, won’t he? Even if we were married, he’d want me gone. So better off he does it now.”

           Tommy lowered his gun. “Stand down, Alfie.” He muttered and tucked his gun away. “Michael,”

           Ella hadn’t noticed their cousin had run into the warehouse once he heard all the shouting.

           “Go and tell Moss, it’s Palmer.” The Blinder instructed. “Ella, get back in the car.”

           She took one more look at Alfie. Her body ached from the emotional toll he’d caused her. Despite it all, she still yearned for the past days when things had been so simple between them. When they were in love and it didn’t cause such a fuss. Now she felt like she’d been stretched so thin.

           “I’m sorry.” He mumbled quietly so Tommy wouldn’t hear. “I wish it could work. But I’m being realistic, love. You’re better off without me.”

           He pushed her away with his words. Most likely it was his intention all along whether he realized it or not. With him, Ella would know nothing but friction. She wouldn’t know peace. And as much pain, as it caused him, he would rather see her walk away than suffer beside him. It didn’t matter how in love they were. What mattered was how the odds were stacked against them from the very beginning.

Permanent Tag: @papa-geralt-of-cirilla​ @giftofdreams​ @biba3434​

Tag list: @deaflikehawkeye​ @octaviareina​ @mylovelykelsifer​

[eleanorblue]

I had a very frightening experience this evening.

Content Warning for...I don’t know. Nothing actually HAPPENED, I’m FINE, but a crazy guy followed me into my building and threatened me.

I was walking home at like 6:30. I’d gone on a walk, which I do frequently. I live in a safe area—it’s busy and it’s by a hospital so there’s a fair amount of security. There are people to watch out for, definitely, but they generally keep to themselves—especially in broad daylight.

I was walking up to my building. There were people out, but it wasn’t crowded per se. There are stairs that go down to the entrance from the sidewalk and I was maybe four feet from the entrance. I had my AirPods in and I was listening to music—Wait For It, from Hamilton.

I dropped my keys.

There was a guy a little bit ahead of me walking towards me. I noticed him in some corner of my brain as a “Person To Keep An Eye On” but there are many people to keep an eye on as I said, so I didn’t pay him that much attention. But when I dropped my keys and picked them up he zeroed in on me and started yelling. “Hey! Can I have a cigarette? Do you have a cigarette? Do you have money for a cigarette?”

I ignored him because that’s what you do when someone starts yelling at you on the street. You ignore them and they generally give up and leave you alone. I went down the steps, used the fob to unlock the door, and entered the lobby of my building. I got about six steps inside when I realized something.

The Guy hadn’t given up. He’d followed me and was now inside my building, right fucking there behind me.

Somehow I didn’t immediately realize the danger of the situation—partially because the doorman was there so there was some form of security, and partially because everything was happening so fast. So after I made eye contact with The Guy, I just...kept walking, quickly, towards the elevators.

But once I acknowledged The Guy by making eye contact with him, he flipped out. He was kind of incoherent so I couldn’t quite tell everything he said but...he was pissed. He called me a bitch, said I was horrible, said something like “this is the kind of respect I get from women!”, and then yelled that he’d wait outside the building and “get me” the next time I came out.

The doorman—thank god the doorman was there, thank fucking god—was having none of this. He started yelling at The Guy to calm down and get out. Once he stood up and started walking towards The Guy, The Guy hightailed it out of the building, challenged a bystander (more on him later) to a fight, then ran down the street.

The doorman asked if I was okay. I said I was—he hadn’t touched me, and honestly I still wasn’t feeling much fear. When The Guy said he’d wait outside the building my first thought was: “yeah right. that’s not going to happen.” I was in shock, I think.

Then I went upstairs and holy macaroni, the adrenaline kicked in. My heart started pounding, my hands shook so hard I could barely unlock my door—I was a mess. I thought about how close The Guy had been and what would have happened if he’d gotten in between me and the door or what would have happened had the doorman not been there.

It was odd. In the situation I hadn’t really realized how scary and dangerous it was. Afterwards, I was terrified. I also kept thinking about what The Guy said about waiting for me. I still didn’t think it was likely, but...I kept thinking, what if he saw me again? What would he do?

I called my mom and panicked and cried and felt very silly for doing so, because again: he didn’t actually touch me! nothing actually happened! I AM FINE! They told me to file a police report, and I didn’t want to because I thought it was pointless, but they ultimately convinced me to call 911. They said they’d send an officer out and I thought “yeah right. this is a Big City, they don’t have time to investigate things when someone is no longer in danger/no one was injured.”

(My mother also reminded me to feed the cat, which was a good catch on her part. I was so frazzled I couldn’t figure out why Osiris kept yelling at me.)

I went back downstairs to tell the doorman that the police were coming. He was chatting to the bystander from earlier, who also apparently lives in the building. He’d been sitting in his car when he saw The Guy come up to me and start yelling, so he had gotten out of his car and was coming to help when the doorman kicked The Guy out. That’s when The Guy challenged him to a fight, but he obviously said “uh no thanks” and The Guy left.

The bystander and the doorman were very excited by now. They’d had a surge of adrenaline too and we’re going on about how The Guy was on drugs, he was crazy, he probably wouldn’t come back. They kept rehashing the incident to each other and going back and forth about how crazy The Guy was. I thanked them both and went upstairs again.

I called my mother back and talked to her as I tried to calm down. But I couldn’t. The phrase “I’m so scared” kept floating through my mind, followed by a whole lot of guilt and shame. After all, NOTHING HAD ACTUALLY HAPPENED. I was SAFE and if this is the worst thing that happens to me in the city, then I’m doing pretty okay! And maybe this wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t dropped my keys...or if I’d been faster...or if I’d come home five minutes earlier...or if I’d slammed the door behind me...

My mother is a clinical psychologist. She kept telling me it wasn’t my fault, that everything I was feeling was normal, that it was okay to be scared. And logically I knew what she was saying was true. But I couldn’t believe it.

Suddenly, my ex-boyfriend called. “Are you okay? What happened? Are you hurt?” What? I hadn’t told him anything. Two seconds later the doorman called to tell me the police were here. I told my ex I had to go, but I was fine, and I went downstairs.

(Later I figured out what had happened. My ex used to live here but moved out before we broke up. When the police arrived, the doorman called the first phone number associated with our unit, which happened to be his. My ex answered and they asked if he was with Ella, as the police were here. He said no and asked what happened, and the doorman said “some guy followed her into the building” and then hung up. Naturally, he was very worried and called me immediately.)

I filed a police report, had a minor internal conflict about the police in general and filing a police report on someone who may have been mentally ill, reminded myself that it is okay to call the police when someone threatens to “get you” and follows you into your building!!!!!! and went back upstairs. And then I felt SIGNIFICANTLY better, I suppose because I had Done Something and didn’t feel as powerless as I had earlier.

I called my ex back and explained what had happened. He was very concerned at first and then updated me on all of the intricate dramas of his life, so, okay. I called my mother back and updated her. She went to bed. I went to make dinner.

But even though I felt (and feel) so much better than I did in the first hour after it happened...there’s still something off. My executive functioning is shot all to hell. I didn’t manage to make dinner until 10:30 pm—not because I was busy, but because starting each task took a Herculean effort. I keep doing things in the wrong order—I put the pot on the stove before adding water somehow, and I unloaded the dishwasher in the middle of slicing an apple. Earlier, when I was buying more pepper gel (mine is EXPIRED), I typed it into Youtube instead of Amazon. Shockingly, that didn’t yield the results I was looking for.

And now I’m lying in bed, and it’s nearly one in the morning. Osiris is curled up on my feet like he always is. I’m exhausted. But I can’t sleep.

[athingthatwantsvirginia]

Holden Caulfield or Nancy Drew

PART THIRTY-ONE OF THE DO YOU SEE HER FACE? SERIES

Pairing: Jess Mariano x Original Character (Ella Stevens)

Warnings: nightmares, anxiety/panic attacks, mentions of domestic abuse/violence, plentiful pop culture references

Word Count: 7.5K (this is long for some reason idk lads)

Summary: Jess and Ella return to Stars Hollow for Liz’s baby shower.

“So, how do you feel about artificial intelligence?” Ella asked, unprompted, finishing a drawing of some ducklings feasting on a vulture. Her sketchpad sat to her right on the arm of the couch. She was working with the new theme of opposition.

Jess looked up from his book, his head lying on her lap, and furrowed his brows. “What?”

She shrugged. “I read about some guy in the woods of Montana creating an AI all on his own. I think it’s a recipe for disaster.”

“How so?” Setting the book on his chest upside-down, Jess glanced at her inquisitively.

Her eyes were still trained on the drawing she was completing with only one hand. “Well, once they gain a more humanoid form, will they assimilate completely into the human race or will they be distinct from us? I mean, will they enact some revenge plot on us or will we coexist peacefully? We’re not the first humans who’ve had to think about this, but it’s the new millennium. Seems like that kinda stuff is closer than ever.”

Breathing a long sigh, Jess let a smirk cross his face. He peeked at his watch, and found it was only half past five. Chris was due home soon, having gone to do some PR business. Matthew was staying at Mabel’s place for the weekend. The apartment, silent save for their voices, was bathed in evening light. It had been warm for a February day, but a cold front was set to arrive very soon.

“It’s not even six yet. And already we’ve arrived at Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?” he asked with a doubtful chuckle.

Finally, she did the last bit of shading on her sketch and shut her book, her pencil saving her place. Her smile was small and sardonic. “You mean Blade Runner? Or are you actually insinuating that the book was better than the movie?”

“I’m not insinuating, Stevens. I’m stating a known fact,” he argued flatly.

She rolled her eyes. “Are you ever gonna get some taste?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” he shot back.

Ella scoffed. “Says the man who honestly believes Coldplay could be described as an alternative band?”

“I’m not having this conversation again,” Jess deadpanned playfully, picking his book back up.

“Because you know I’m right.”

“Because you’re relentlessly stubborn.”

“On this particular topic?” Ella said, eyebrows raised. “Any sane person would be.”

“‘Sane’ isn’t quite the right word,” Jess muttered, pretending to ignore her.

She narrowed her eyes at him for a moment, then gave a curt nod and snatched the Kesey book from his hands before he could even react. Sitting up instantly, Jess eyed the book where she held it over the arm of the couch. Certainly, it was in his reach, but that wasn’t the point.

“You know this means war, right?” he asked.

“I’m aware,” she replied coolly, mocking. “But you’ll just have to try to come over here and get this back.”

“If you insist,” he shrugged, sighing slightly.

He launched forwards and began tickling her sides. Eyes widening, Ella dropped the book. The paperback fell with a small thud on the cracked hardwood on the other side of the couch, forgotten. Her sketchbook also slipped off the arm of the couch, the pencil falling out and rolling underneath the chair nearby. Jess had gone straight for the jugular. It had only taken sleeping in the same bed with her a few times for him to realize Ella was one of the most ticklish people he had ever encountered. She laughed loudly, openly, throwing her head back. Her hair splayed behind her as she laid her head against one of the throw pillows and Jess ended up on top, straddling her.

“This is what you get for being a book tease, Daria,” he said.

Her smile was wide, hurting her cheeks, as she pleaded through breathless giggles. “Fuck you! Stop!”

After a few more seconds, he obliged, his hands going slack and gripping her sides gently instead. The grin remained on her lips, her cheeks a lively pink. She caught her breath, dreamy eyes softening as her gaze lingered on his face. “I hate you, Mariano.”

He chuckled in disbelief. “You love me.”

Ella shrugged as Jess leaned in closer to her, breath hot on her face. “Close enough.”

As he went to kiss her, she placed a hand on the back of his neck, cool against his flushed skin. Her lips were soft but firm, needy. She was just wrapping her legs around his waist as he sat up, preparing to lift her up and take her to their bedroom, when Chris walked in. Immediately after tossing his keys on the kitchen counter, he staggered back and clamped his free hand over his eyes.

“Ugh, c’mon guys!” he whined.

Ella gasped and pulled away, hiding her face behind Jess, who turned to his friend with an annoyed stare. About a minute more and they would’ve been in the clear.

“How many times?” Chris continued, glancing through his splayed fingers to ensure it was safe before removing his hand again. “This is a communal living room! Communal!”

“Sorry,” Jess said lightly. “Next time, we’ll hang a sock on the door.”

Ella shoved his shoulder playfully, embarrassed. “Shut up!”

Chris grimaced in distaste but let it slide. He cast a stack of envelopes on the coffee table in front of them before going to hang up his things. “Some mail came.”

Swallowing thickly, Ella climbed off of Jess and began sifting through the mail. Jess watched her go through the envelopes, his chin resting on her shoulder. She tossed a few his way, some bills and some author inquiries.

Only two of them were for her, one being a check for her teacher’s assistant services. The spring semester was going considerably better than the fall, as Ella got the hang of the program. She smiled down at it and picked up her sketchbook again, tucking the check inside and making a mental note to cash it on Monday. Underneath it was a larger envelope, addressed in delicate, handwritten cursive. The return address was for a woman named Carrie from Stars Hollow. For the life of her, she couldn’t produce a face to match the name. Furrowing her brows, she ripped it open and read the stiff card which fell out.

“Hm,” she hummed, beginning to chew at her thumbnail as she looked it over.

“What’s up?” Jess asked absently, flipping through his own pile.

Biting the inside of her cheek, Ella took a hesitant pause before she spoke. The door shut behind Chris as he disappeared into his own room, and Ella was glad the inquiring ears were gone. “I got invited to Liz’s baby shower.”

“Huh,” Jess chirped, indifferent. “When?”

Her eyes landed on the date and she smirked bitterly. “Tomorrow. What a master at planning, your mother.”

“It’s what she’s famous for,” Jess quipped, finally setting his mail back on the coffee table and meeting her eyes again. “You wanna go? There’s no other plans this weekend, right?”

“I don’t know,” Ella shrugged. “Obviously, you could come with. Maybe catch up with Luke or something. He’s probably not doing so hot since everything with Lorelai. I mean...do you want me to go?”

“Not my decision to make,” he said in a clipped tone. He ran a hand over his mouth and peeked down at the invitation. It was pink and glittery. He snorted a bitter laugh. “If you wanna go, I’ll come with.”

“You have no opinion on this?” she asked. “None at all?”

“Nope,” he answered, shaking his head. “No opinion at all.”

She blew a breath out her nose, eyes calculating, as she read the invitation over again and considered the options. Jess didn’t seem thrilled about it, but didn’t seem enraged either. It was nice they had thought of her at all. And Ella had been worrying about Luke in the back of her mind quite a bit as of late. She’d heard through Lane that Lorelai had somehow ended up marrying Rory’s dad, Christopher, in Paris. Besides, Jess spoke with Liz on the phone at least once a month. They weren’t estranged. It would be good, she told herself. Mature.

“Might as well,” she said with finality, adding her own envelopes to the madness on the coffee table. She would have to grab her lone, neat stack later. “Since they remembered to invite me. Feels like I should go.”

Jess nodded. “Okay.”

“Okay,” she echoed, tugging on her earring. “We can take my car. And we’ll have to stop and get a gift on the way, I guess. But the party’s not until four, so we can definitely swing it. I guess you’ll have to hang out at Luke’s or something while I go?”

“Sure,” Jess said, aloof. “I’ll call him later and let him know we’re coming. We should probably stay with him. There’s no telling what kind of state Liz and TJ’s house is in.”

“Yeah, I think that’s a wise choice.”

“Agreed.” He ran an anxious hand through his hair and straightened up slightly, then seemed to lose some of the tension in his shoulders. The small smirk reappeared on his lips. “But, in the meantime, you wanna finish what we started?”

Ella grinned wickedly and grabbed his hand, leading him towards the bedroom door. “No time like the present.”

.   .   .

Usually, when Jess emerged from a nightmare, a big gasp brought him immediately back to reality. He would jolt physically as soon as his eyes flew open. But, this time, he found he couldn’t get quite as much of the dry central heating air as he needed when he reentered the waking world. His chest felt tight, as it often did in a bad dream’s aftermath, but his throat also felt impossibly small. His breathing came in short gasps. His heart beat hard against his ribs, making him feel almost nauseous. Though he was sticky with sweat, shivers rolled through his body, making his hands tremble. And for just one moment, he feared he was so lightheaded he would pass out.

Ella didn’t feel his movements so much as hear his shuffling around. When she cracked her eyes open, and blinked away the first few seconds of blurriness, she found him leaning up against the wall behind the bed. His eyes were wide and terrified, and he couldn’t control his breathing despite the hand he held desperately to his chest.

“Whoa, hey, Jess,” she murmured softly.

Sitting up, she immediately went to bring a hand to his shoulder, but he flinched away from her.

“I won’t touch you if you don’t want me to, okay?” she told him.

He nodded weakly.

Worry crept up her throat, but she did her best to keep her voice calm. She had seen shades of the same reaction each time he had a nightmare, but it had never been quite so extreme. His pupils had never been blown-out, as she could see in the grayish light of the early morning, and he had never had trouble breathing before.

“What do you need?” she asked, trying to get him to meet her gaze. When he finally did, she could see tears just about to spill over.

“Elle, I...I don’t…” He struggled for words, panting.

“Alright, that’s fine,” she whispered. “It’s fine if you don’t know. Everything is fine, Jess. But let’s just breathe, alright? Breathe with me.”

She took a long, loud breath in through her nose, then let it out through her mouth.

“Do it with me, James Dean. In and out, huh?” she said.

Though he raised a doubtful eyebrow, eventually, he did as she instructed. His hands almost felt numb, pins and needles, but they stopped shaking after a few minutes of slow breaths. He grabbed her hand in his own, squeezing tightly. He wondered instantly why he had withdrawn from her before. The feeling of her skin against his did perhaps more to soothe him than the breathing did.

She offered a tiny smile as he interlaced their fingers, and squeezed back. “Good job, Jess. Everything’s fine. I’m right here.”

Again, he nodded, more emphatically. There were glistening tear tracks running down his cheeks. He sniffled as his breathing became regular again, and he bit down hard on his bottom lip to maintain whatever semblance of control he could.

“You okay?” she asked, watching his muscles begin to ease up.

Releasing her hand, Jess averted his gaze and felt a blush heat his skin. “Yeah. Yeah. Fine.”

Ella said nothing more, instead gently laying him back down. She tugged the covers over them again, though she knew the alarm would probably go off in less than an hour or two. She brought his head to her chest, running her fingers through his hair and pressing a kiss to the top of his head. Wiping some of the dampness from his face with her thumb, she rubbed her free hand up and down over his back.

“One of those dreams, cutie?” she asked quietly.

He hummed in confirmation.

“You wanna talk about it?”

“No,” he said, and she thought she heard his voice becoming watery again.

“Okay,” she replied, soft but resolute. It was the response she had expected, but it seemed worth asking for such an acute reaction.

A calm, comfortable silence passed between them. Outside, the birds were chirping, and the traffic noise had already started. Slats of light snuck through the closed blinds and cast white strips over the gray comforter. Reaching over, Jess began to trace a fingertip over the tattoo on the inside of her left forearm. He did it often with her body art, after having watched her run her hands over her sketches so many times.

“Remind me about this one,” he said softly.

She smiled. He’d asked her more than once after a nightmare. She only had two tattoos so far, though she had plans for a third. Quality meant money, and she was still saving up. Sometimes he asked about the one on her leg, an antique bird cage with an open door. Neither of her tattoos had any color, drawn in a delicate, shaded style by an artist in New Haven. She was talented, and Gil knew her through his sandwich shop connections. She was still apprenticing, making sandwiches to get by before she could open her own shop or get permanently hired at one.

The birdcage had actually been Lane’s idea, after Ella moved in with her. Partially inspired by Keats’s odes, Ella had thought of getting a simple bird tattoo. She’d mentioned it to Lane, who lit up immediately at the mention of a rebellious act, and suggested something a bit different. The metaphor was clear, the tattoo was beautiful. The experience was better than she thought it would be, and she’d gone back for her second only a few months later, on Mother’s Day.

As much as Ella loved the birdcage, the tulip on her arm was her favorite. By the same artist, it had the same style. It was delicate, the bloom near the crook of her elbow and the stem tapering off and disappearing gracefully a little above her wrist.

“When I was a kid,” she began, “my mother had a kickass garden. I always wanted to help her, planting and watering and everything. But, as we all know, I kill everything except cactuses. She gave me a bunch of tulip seeds for my birthday once, and I made them my project. Got some books about flowers from the library, and everything. Only one ended up growing, anyway. But I was proud of it. And my mom was proud of me. And now I remember every time I look at my arm.”

Jess could feel the vibrations of Ella’s raspy voice in her chest, his ear pressed against her t-shirt as he listened. His eyes were getting heavy again, his body stressed from the rude awakening. It made him feel silly, but it had always so easily put him back to sleep. Not having to talk. Just listening to her.

“Pretty sentimental of you, Stevens,” he joked.

She chuckled. “Hypocrite. Love at first sight much?”

“Who am I to deny a law of the universe? Not like I could help it. I saw you and it was done,” he argued impassively.

“Guess I’m just irresistible,” she teased.

“Seems that way.”

Her own eyes fluttered shut. She was warm but not uncomfortable. Cozy, she supposed, was the word for it. Jess on her right side, with his head on her chest, seconds away from snoring.

“Hey, I do love you, Mariano.”

One corner of Jess’s mouth quirked up in a lazy smile, as he dozed despite the uneasiness and embarrassment still sitting in his stomach. “I know, Stevens. Love you back.”

.   .   .

Humming along with the CD, Ella cast nervous glances Jess’s way. His scowl was near permanent as he stared out the window at the passing scenery. The breeze was frigid as the sun beat down on the Connecticut streets. They were only five minutes away from Liz and TJ’s house, and Ella felt far less nostalgia than she was expecting. Fiona and Adam both had plans for the day, and said they simply couldn’t carve out the time to see her. Not one minute. Adam had some project he was spending the weekend at a friend’s house to finish. And Fiona had hair appointments booked solid. Ella knew it was naive to think they would fit in time for her on such a spur of the moment visit, but the disappointment remained. Stars Hollow didn’t look the same to her, feel the same to her, no matter how identical it seemed. Colorful decorations popped up on the sidewalks and there was a banner for some random town holiday above Taylor’s store. She didn’t bother to read it; next weekend was Valentine’s Day and she knew whatever the town was currently celebrating would just be an excuse to drum up business for the actual calendar event. As soon as “Mona Lisas and Mad Hatters” ended, she pulled her station wagon over to the side, outside Liz and TJ’s modest ranch-style, adorned with lawn ornaments and wind chimes and other kitschy decorations. A bunch of pink balloons streamed from where they were tied to the mailbox, which was shaped like a fish.

“Okay. Out with it,” she said, turning to him just as she pulled the parking brake.

Jess faced her, furrowing his brows. “What?”

“What’s with you?” Ella asked. “You always sing along to Elton John. At least, when it’s just the two of us you do. ‘Mona Lisa and Mad Hatters’ is your favorite. You’re not singing so...what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Jess said shortly, arms crossed over his flannel.

Ella blew her curtain bangs from her eyes in frustration, the rest of her locks pulled back in a low bun. She pulled the keys from the ignition. “Can we just skip this whole denial part and get to the part where you tell me what’s going on with you?”

“This isn’t the denial part,” Jess said, rolling his eyes. “This is the part where I tell you nothing is wrong because nothing is wrong. Two different parts entirely.”

“I asked you if you still wanted to come after everything that happened last night. And you said, and I quote: ‘Yes.’ And you didn’t want to talk about it, which is totally fine. But you seemed so out of it this morning, and-”

“This isn’t about last night,” he interrupted, a defensive bite in his voice. His muscles were tense.

“Alright,” she nodded, eyebrows raised. “Then what the hell is it about?”

“Nothing. I’m fine.”

“I think you might be a worse liar than me,” she mused peevishly. “Just give it up, Mariano. What is wrong?”

“The third degree is getting a little old, Nancy Drew,” he shot back, raising his voice slightly.

She spoke with her hands, a small, bitter, sarcastic smirk on her face. “You know what I think is getting old? The Holden fucking Caulfield act, which I haven’t seen in, like, three years. Now, you obviously don’t wanna be here, jackass. You obviously didn’t want me to go to this thing. Which you could’ve mentioned about two hundred miles ago. But I guess I wasn’t worthy of that courtesy. I’m only your girlfriend and your best friend, but who am I kidding? There’s no one on the planet who could possibly be privy to the thoughts of tortured genius, Jess Mariano! Excuse me!”

Grabbing the present and her purse from the backseat and shutting the driver’s side door behind her harshly, she began trudging up the cobblestone path to the house.

Jess sighed heavily as he got out of the car and leaned against the passenger side. He watched as Ella stopped abruptly and turned on her heel, fire in her hazel eyes as she doubled back and held the keys out to him.

“For you, Caulfield. Avoid the phonies on your way. I hear they tend to jaywalk,” she snapped as he took the keys.

“You’re so fucking hilarious,” he retorted, eyes narrowed.

“And you are so fucking annoying,” she shouted over her shoulder as she neared the front door.

“Right back at ya, Stevens!”

Jess ran a hand over his mouth as he saw Liz come out to meet Ella, enveloping her in a warm, cheerful hug. Her baby bump was round and visible from the street, and she offered her son a wave from the distance. He returned it begrudgingly. Feeling his stomach do a flip, his eyes followed Ella as she vanished into the house and didn’t turn back for a final look at him.

.   .   .

Evening had darkened to a deep, silky blue outside. The air was icy and thick with the promise of forthcoming snow. Ella sat on the porch with Miss Patty as she smoked from her long cigarette holder. The day hadn’t been her happiest, but Ella was glad to have a chance to reunite with the best dance teacher on the East Coast. Babette had left earlier, something about a gig for Maury’s jazz group. Carrie, who Ella had recognized as one of the crazy guests from Liz’s bachelorette party upon seeing her face again, was inside with Liz and TJ. And, Ella couldn’t think of anything she wanted to hear less than the story TJ was currently telling of the fight he and Jess had gotten into at a strip club. The father-to-be had shown up halfway through the party to be present when the gifts were opened, wearing an ostentatious Hawaiian shirt, inexplicably.

Ella’s glass was filled with watery orange juice, the ice cubes long since having melted. The drink was tangy, sour, and she had downed at least four of them over the course of the past three hours.

“And I told Marlene I simply couldn’t take her place,” Patty said, words snaking out of her mouth in white clouds. She was draped in velvet shawls and several long necklaces. “But she insisted!”

“I never knew you were a Dietrich stand-in,” Ella said, head buzzing and airy.

Patty nodded, an eyebrow raised suggestively. “I was her stand-in in more ways than one. Rudolf Sieber was a hell of a man.”

Snorting a laugh, Ella half-listened as she leaned over to get a better view of the full moon and the bright stars. She slid right off the porch swing and landed directly on her ass. Bursting out in drunken cackles, she somehow managed to keep the drink gripped in her hand. She gulped up the rest of it, then placed it down on the painted wood floor next to her. Patty laughed along suspiciously.

“Darling, are you alright?”

Ella nodded through her sloppy giggles, licking her lips. “I’m great, Miss Patty. Y’know, I don’t usually like orange juice too much, but I love it tonight. And Liz loved the pajamas we got. I thought the piglets would be better, but Jess insisted we get the sheep. He was right, I guess. It’d be nice if he was so open about more than just his onesie opinions.”

“My dear,” Patty began, stubbing out her cigarette, “that’s not orange juice. That’s a screwdriver.”

“Hm?” Ella asked, looking up at her from her place on the floor with large, glassy eyes.

“A screwdriver. It’s orange juice and vodka,” Patty explained, half-amused and half-concerned. She went and shouted something through the front door to Liz, TJ, Carrie, and the rest of the crowd. Ella said nothing, only looking down in confusion at her empty cup.

Liz appeared next to Patty in a second, both of them coming over and lifting Ella by the upper arms. Smiling widely, Liz gave Ella a hug goodbye. Ella laughed in her grasp, more receptive to the contact than she was when she first got to the shower.

“I had so much fun! Thank you for inviting me!” Ella exclaimed, her voice high and intoxicated.

Grin ever-present, Liz pulled away from Ella and held her by the shoulders. “Aw, thank you for coming. I love the onesie! Patty’s gonna walk you back to my bro’s diner, alright?”

Ella paused for a long, apprehensive moment, then nodded happily. “Okay, sure. Hey, did Carrie give me vodka? Patty said something about vodka. But Carrie said it was orange juice and I couldn’t taste anything else!”

“You’ll be fine, sweetie,” Liz said calmly, then turned Ella back to Patty.

Ella was about to question her further, but she was already being whisked away.

“C’mon, let’s get you back to the diner,” Patty said, pushing Ella forwards by the shoulderblades.

Babbling on about whatever passed through her brain, Ella appreciated the cold air on her flushed skin as they strolled through town on the five-minute walk back to Luke's. At some point, she shed her black peacoat and slung it over her shoulder. There were rosy patches blooming on her chest, exposed in her floral black dress. Her tights had somehow sustained more than one rip and her Doc Martens felt leaden on her feet. The lights of the diner were a beacon against the dark backdrop of town at night. She saw Jess, all broody on a stool at the end of the counter, through the front window.

“Ugh, Jess is such an asshole sometimes,” she muttered, her words thick like molasses.

Patty chuckled, walking her up the concrete steps. “He’s a man, honey. What did you expect?”

The bell over the door jingled jovially. Luke was cleaning up the counter as the Saturday dinner rush died down. The aroma of salt and grease was potent. Finally, the wave of nostalgia hit Ella as she hung her coat and bag by the door. She almost knocked the rack down as Patty’s hands hovered over her form cautiously.

“Yes, everyone, your eyes do not deceive you,” Ella announced. “Luke’s best waitress has returned to her humble beginnings in Stars Hollow.”

At the sound of her voice, Jess turned and his eyes widened. He abandoned his book on the counter and hopped up from the stool. Luke, equally startled, could only stand there with his mouth agape.

“What happened?” Jess asked, rushing over to Ella. His hands went to her waist to guide her, but she swatted him away with a heavy sigh of frustration.

“Get off me, Holden Caulfield,” she mumbled, wobbly on her feet.

“Carrie gave her five screwdrivers. She thought it was orange juice,” Patty said shortly, offering some greetings to the stray customers sitting around and looking on in curiosity. “You got her, Jess? I have a midnight sauna salsa class to set up for.”

“Yeah. Thanks, Patty,” Jess said, taking over for her.

Ella ran right into one of the tables. It screeched across the tile floor, leaving a dark mark. But Jess caught her before she fell on her face. Patty offered Ella a final kiss on the cheek before making her exit.

“Dammit, Crazy Carrie strikes again!” Luke exclaimed. Jess sensed a rant coming. “I never would’ve let her go if I knew that’s who was throwing it!”

“You think you could stop Eleanor Stevens from going anywhere?” Jess asked doubtfully, continuing his failed attempts to direct her.

“Luke, your nephew is a jackass, did you know that? And such a dork,” Ella said, coming behind the counter and learning her elbows on it tiredly. Luke could smell the vodka, strong on her breath. “I mean, he loves broadway. I’m serious. And Elton John. And Nora Ephron. And remember when we were in high school when he got that black eye from-”

Jess finally managed to clamp his hand over Ella’s mouth, as she had been shoving his hands away during the entire diatribe. She was surprisingly strong while drunk, even though she was such a lightweight. Licking his hand, Ella managed to get her mouth free again. She laughed at Jess’s grimace as he wiped his palm on her sleeve, but pressed her back against him nonetheless. She felt some stability returning as he began to support her weight.

“Okay, I think it’s time we get you to bed,” Jess said. His cheeks were flushed and there was crease of concern on his forehead. “Don’t you think so, Luke?”

“Yeah, Ella, the sheets are clean. You guys can take my bed tonight,” Luke said, nodding along as he went over to the cash register.

“But I don’t wanna take your bed. Who are we to take your bed?” Ella argued, as Jess led her back towards the stairs. She stumbled over her words, and swayed as she tried to walk.

“It’s fine, Ella,” Luke insisted warily. “You’ll take the bed.”

“But-”

Jess uttered a long sigh, then hoisted her up bridal-style, fed up with struggling. Groaning dramatically, Ella stiffened for only a moment, then relaxed in his arms. Her head lolled drunkenly against his shoulder.

“Oh, look, my jackass in shining armor,” she spat out, eyes closed.

“Yeah, I’m the fourth horseman of the apocalypse, I know,” he replied, finishing his climb up the stairs and managing to open the door to the apartment with only one hand.

“At least you’re self-aware.”

She was already drifting off, and he set her down atop the soft orange cover on Luke’s double bed. She rolled over onto her side and grabbed a fistful of the sheets sleepily. By the time Jess returned to her with a glass of water and some aspirin, she was beginning to snore. He set the glass and pills on the bedside table.

“Elle? Wake up for just a sec,” he whispered, shaking her shoulder gently.

She gave another petulant moan, but opened her bleary eyes and sat up against the headboard.

“Take these,” he said shortly, giving her the glass and the aspirin.

Shooting him a scornful glare, she knocked them back without a word.

“You want the Led Zeppelin t-shirt or the blue flannel?” he asked, going over to the duffel he’d brought up to the apartment earlier.

She pinched the bridge of her nose, feeling the headache already. “Fuck, I wish I brought the KISS t-shirt. But if I brought it, I would definitely forget it. I can see it already. Led Zeppelin, please.”

He nodded, then came back to the end of the bed and began untying her shoes for her. Her eyes fluttered shut again. The smell of pine in the apartment was old and comforting. The covers were soft against her skin as Jess tugged off her stockings, leaving her legs bare. He swapped them for a pair of plaid pajama shorts, which she actually tried (unsuccessfully) to help him put on.

Suddenly, she began to clutch at the leather cord around her neck. On it, there hung a heavy, blue geode, flat against the exposed skin of her chest. She tried twice to get it off herself, before Jess finished with her shorts and pushed her hands aside. He raised it up and off of her carefully.

“Your mom put that on me. I might’ve given her twenty bucks for it? I don’t remember,” she told him, surly.

Jess cracked a joyless smirk. “How mercenary of her.”

“I wish I wasn’t drunk,” she murmured as he instructed her to raise her arms so he could get her dress and bra off.

“I know,” he replied.

“Being drunk fucking sucks,” she continued as he slipped the worn cotton t-shirt over her head.

“I know,” he repeated. Jess scooted up closer to the head of the bed. “Turn around.”

She did as he said, though not without sulky huff. In measured, delicate movements, he undid her hairdo, taking out the bobby pins and the elastic. He ran his fingers gently through her hair, untangling it.

“Okay. Do you wanna brush your teeth first?” he asked quietly.

She shook her head, burrowing beneath the covers and turning away from him. Swallowing dryly, Jess gave a curt nod and was about to turn and leave when Ella flipped suddenly onto her back.

“Hey, you have to stay on your side in case-”

“I just want you to talk to me,” she interjected, reaching up to stroke his stubbly cheek with her thumb. For a moment, as she continued, he thought he saw the shine of tears in her eyes. “We need to tell each other everything. I’m really fucking worried about you. And I just...I love you and...maybe I was being too aggressive. I don’t know. But I really, really wish I wasn’t drunk and my head hurts and I wish we could go home and-”

“Hey, Eleanor, just go to sleep,” he said softly, taking her hand from his face and running his thumb over the back. She was rambling, eyes red-rimmed, beyond exhausted. Tucking her in tightly, he pressed a kiss to her forehead. “We can talk about this tomorrow.”

Irrational hurt passed over Ella’s face and she scoffed angrily. She faced away from him again, the cold shoulder. “Whatever. Holden fucking Caulfield.”

.   .   .

It was past eleven when Luke finally closed up for the night. He had no place to be, and let Caesar go early. The diner was completely silent as he scrubbed away at smudged surfaces and swept up crumbs. He wished for Lorelai, could picture her at home with Christopher. Around the kitchen table where he used to sit, with Rory and Christopher’s own daughter, Gigi. Luke wondered at it in the back of his mind. Christopher had a daughter, just like him. But he’d made it work. He’d figured it out, and gotten Lorelai in the end. Why hadn’t he been able to? What was wrong with him?

He pushed the thoughts away again, shaking his head. They did no good. What’s done is done, he told himself. Maybe one day he would find someone again. But he had never met anyone who made him feel the way Lorelai did. No one else in the world. He wasn’t optimistic he’d honestly be able to come across true love again. He trudged up the creaky back stairs, his brow heavy with anguish, after shutting off the downstairs lights. Opening the door to the apartment, which still read ‘Williams Hardware’ all these years after his father had died, he was surprised to see Jess at the kitchen table, book in hand. The light over the sink was the only one left on, creating a dim glow.

“Hey,” he said quietly, locking the door behind him, even though the front door of the diner was locked as well.

Jess’s eyes lingered on the page for a moment as he finished a sentence, before he saved his place and looked up. “Hey. You finish closing?”

“Yep,” Luke said, placing his keys down near the door and immediately going to grab a beer from the fridge. He held one out to his nephew. “You want one?”

Not even considering it, Jess shook his head. He tossed a nervous look at Ella, who lay snoring and tangled up in the orange sheets. She was talking nonsense in her sleep, had been for the past two or three hours as Jess attempted to finish his Kesey novel. He was having trouble concentrating.

“No, thanks,” he said. “I think at least one of us should be sober tonight.”

“Suit yourself.”

Luke came to sit beside Jess silently, sipping his Heineken and waiting for whatever story was to come. It was only the second time in his life he had seen Ella drunk, and it was making him feel an odd sense of deja-vu.

“I wanted to help clean up downstairs, but I was worried she would flip over onto her back. I figured I should stay here and...make sure she was okay,” Jess explained, apologetic.

“Don’t worry about it.” Luke shrugged it off dismissively.

“She hates being drunk,” Jess said, eyes still on Ella. “I mean, on her twenty-first birthday, we didn’t even go out. We just watched Goodfellas.”

“Why?” Luke asked, tilting his head in confusion.

Jess smirked. “She said it was a makeshift rite of passage, since she didn’t want to drink. Because they say ‘fuck’ exactly three hundred times.”

“Sounds like her,” Luke said fondly.

“Yeah,” Jess replied, looking down at his lap and breathing a sigh.

“She didn’t seem too happy with you earlier,” Luke said pointedly, eyebrows raised. “Or was that just the booze talking?”

Jess uttered a bitter chuckle. “I’d say a sober woman’s thoughts are a drunk woman’s words, but she sounded pretty much the same level of pissed in the car on the way up here as she did after five screwdrivers.”

“What happened?”

“I don’t know,” Jess said, his words a sigh. “I thought I’d be okay with all this. The baby shower and everything. But I got to thinking about it more and more and...I just don’t know. Do you think Liz is ready for another kid?”

Luke paused a moment, appraising Jess’s face. He saw sincere fear in his nephew’s features, taking him slightly aback. “I think so. And TJ’s not the sharpest tool in the shed by any means, but I think he’s even less of a flight risk than your mom. And they live right down the road from me, Jess.”

Jess hummed. “I guess that’s true. I just got to remembering some things about Liz and...Ella could tell something was up. She can always tell. But I guess I didn’t feel like talking.”

Blowing a long breath out through his nose, Luke nodded. “Well, you don’t have to worry about this kid. I promise. I won’t let anything happen.”

“Thanks.”

“And Jess?” Luke began, meeting his nephew’s eyes. “Talk to her. Tell her everything that’s on her mind. There’s no point in hiding things. It’ll drive her crazy, and it’ll drive her away. We’ve had this conversation before. Open two-way communication is-”

“The foundation of love, I know, Dr. Phil,” Jess grumbled, rolling his eyes at the self-help jargon. But, inside, he stored the sentiment away for later. “Old habits, I guess. I’m working on it.”

“Good. That’s all that matters,” Luke said, offering Jess a hopeful smile and finishing off the last of his beer. He tossed it in the recycling and retreated to the bathroom to get ready for bed.

Jess ran a hand over his mouth and then rubbed at his tired eyes with the heels of his hands. His dream from the night before flashed across his mind quickly, and he tried to lock the images away. The thought of curling up on the old leather couch made him grimace. He wasn’t eager for a repeat. One more chapter, he told himself. Then he would be ready to try and rest.

.   .   .

Whatever possessed her to wake up at five in the morning on a Sunday, she wasn’t entirely sure. But the pounding headache in her temples probably had something to do with it. Luke was already gone, the twin bed on which Jess had once slept made neatly and left empty. Early morning deliveries perhaps. Or maybe he was getting ready for the brunch crowd. It was his least favorite group of customers, Ella remembered. As she awoke and saw Jess was asleep beneath a throw blanket on the couch, book on the floor next to him, she hopped up from the bed. The weathered hardwood was cold beneath her bare feet, and she wished the room wasn’t quite as awash in morning light. She had to squint against it as she padded over, sitting on the edge of one couch cushion.

“Jess?” she whispered, groggy. She raked her hands through her messy hair and tucked it behind her ears. Goosebumps rose on her arms after having left the warmth of the bed. “Jess?”

He stirred on only the second try, scrunching up his face. He was still dressed in his clothes from the day before. Eventually, his brown eyes were open, and surprised to see her up before him. “Hey, Elle. You okay?”

“Yeah. Why are you on the couch?”

“Oh,” he said, throwing an arm across his eyes and yawning. “You were pretty mad last night. I didn’t know if you’d want me to get in with you.”

She shook her head, a small smile ghosting over her lips. “I always want you sleeping next to me, cutie. Even when I’m mad. I mean, we’ve got sides of the bed now. There’s tradition to maintain.”

“Like you’ve ever cared about tradition,” he chuckled, blinking away the sleep in his field of vision. She looked pale, almost a sickly green, but her eyes were clear once again. And her speech was no longer drunkenly strung together.

“Fair enough,” she replied. “But I wasn’t sleep-in-separate-beds mad. I was just I’m-wasted-and-annoyed mad.”

“How the hell did you not know you were drinking screwdrivers?” he asked, a teasing smirk appearing on his face.

She rolled her eyes, mostly at herself. “I don’t know, Mariano. I don’t ever drink. How am I supposed to know what alcohol tastes like? And I don’t know what the fuck Carrie did to those, but I swear they were a dead ringer for straight orange juice.”

“Whatever you say, Stevens.”

“Shut up,” she quipped with good nature. “Did I try to sing Rumors or anything? I don’t really remember.”

“Mercifully, no,” he said, sitting up against the arm of the couch. “Nothing crazy. You are a bit of a weepy drunk, but who isn’t?”

“Jesus,” she murmured, blushing slightly.

He chuckled half-heartedly, then his face grew more earnest. “Hey, Elle?”

“Hm?”

Pausing to heave a heavy sigh, he raked a hand through his bedhead.

“I didn’t want to come here because of the dream I had,” Jess spit out, before he could lose his nerve. “Nothing specific...just a bunch of stuff from when I was growing up. It just...Liz wasn’t the best mom and I was remembering...a lot. And I was nervous about her…”

“Screwing up that kid’s life?” she asked.

He nodded shyly.

“Okay. I get why you’d be nervous. But she’s with TJ now, and she’s older. And, plus, the day Luke lets anything happen to that baby is the day Coldplay is classified is an alternative band,” Ella said. At some point, she began running her fingers through his hair in reassurance. “I really, really think it’ll be fine.”

“I know. I talked to Luke last night.”

“And you’re feeling better about it?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, feeling a small weight lift from somewhere inside him. “But I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I just...I don’t know. I was...scared. It was stupid.”

“It’s not stupid, Jess,” she shook her head, gaze softening. “It makes sense. I’m sorry if I pushed you too hard. I didn’t mean to. You just...you scared me. And I was going insane because I knew something was wrong and...I was just worried about you.”

“I know, Daria,” he said fondly.

“I mean, you had a panic attack, Jess.” Her voice was deep with fatigue, and had pleading quality which struck Jess’s heart. “You couldn’t breathe. I didn’t know if I was gonna be able to help and...maybe you should see someone? My brother’s therapist helped him a lot after my mom.”

“I’ll think about it,” Jess replied, shockingly genuine. Ella didn’t think he would be entertaining the thought of getting help so easily.

“Good.”

“Not like I’ve got the best insurance though.”

Ella sighed. “Yeah. Fucking capitalism.”

“It’s a little early to be going Marxist, I think,” he said, laughing breathily.

“Oh, it’s never too early,” she shot back.

“Duly noted,” Jess replied. Then, after a hesitant pause: “So, we’re fine?”

“Everything’s fine, James Dean,” she said, nodding. “Thanks for telling me.”

“Don’t thank me,” he said with a bashful laugh, bowing his head.

Ella’s smile grew at his shyness, and she pressed a brief kiss to his forehead before he lifted his head back up and their lips met. As they pulled away from each other, he placed an affectionate hand on her cheek.

“How’s your head?”

“I’ll survive.”

“I’m glad,” he quipped. “You think you can handle some breakfast?”

“Worth a try.”

“Okay, once Luke opens up, we can head downstairs. Then let’s go home?” he proposed.

“Yeah. Sounds like a plan,” she said, almost wistful. “Let’s go home.”

[johnshelbysgirl]

Honey Don’t Feed Me... PT. 2

Part One

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. All characters, setting, etc. are the property of their respective owners. All original work is my own.

warnings: none.

Tag list: @xxdearlybeloved @woahitslucyylu

The cries of children laughing and playing games rung out in the park. The sound of the wind rustling through the trees wove them together nicely enough for Ella to drown it all out. She was full and completely content under the shade of the tree; laying out on a blanket with her best friend Clara who had packed a picnic basket for their lunch together.

Clara dropped her sandwich to rub her fingers into her eyes. "The new girl Mr. Martin hired is hopeless; she won't last."

Ella turned her head to the side to look at her fully. "What's wrong?"

"She can't do anything!" she screamed, "She says she's worked as a seamstress before, but she's messed up three orders this week."

Surprised, Ella sat up. "No one's complained yet?"

"They have," Clara scoffed, "Mr. Martin just smooths things over by giving them a discount and having me redo her work."

"Why doesn't he just sack her?" Ella voiced.

"The other girls and I were talking, and we think they must be related."

"Are they?"

"Not sure," she shrugged, "but what other reason would he keep her around for?"

Ella waggled her eyebrows. "Maybe he likes what he sees."

"Gross," Clara shuddered, "I think I'm going to be sick, thanks for that."

"How is this my fault? I'm not the one having an affair."

"No, you're just the one with the dirty mind."

"You can't tell me you haven't thought the same!"

"Well I have but I wasn't going to say it! Not everyone just says what they're thinking all the time you know."

Ella looked down at her discarded food, she knew what she meant.

"Had it been anyone else you were talking to you could've gotten into some serious trouble."

Clara's words echoing in her head. She had debated on whether or not to tell her about meeting John. She knew she'd react badly to the news, but she didn't want to keep anything from her. They've known each other their entire lives they were more like sisters than friends.

Almost as if she could read Ella's mind. "how's everything at work?" she asked hesitantly.

She knew what she wanted to ask. Despite his "promise", she hadn't seen John. Which, now that she thought about it, was ridiculous anyway it's not like they ran in the same circles.

"It's alright, no incidents to report."

Clara tilted her head to the side.

"I swear! It's almost been a week if you count today."

She raised her eyebrows now. "Counting the days now, are we?"

"What! No," She sputtered out, "I'm just saying that he must've found some other girl to spend his time with."

The thought stung at first, she didn't think he'd just move on, he said as much, but when the delivery of Marnox root arrived; It was George who brought it in. So, she figured that things were back to normal and took it as a blessing in disguise.

'That was perfectly fine with her.'

"Good, now all I have to worry about is you getting yourself cursed."

Ella groaned. "For the last time, Polly isn't a witch."

"Polly huh?" Clara sniffed. "Well her profession says otherwise."

"She's nice… you should give her a chance."

"You don't believe in that stuff now do you?"

"No, but I just think it wouldn't hurt to have an open mind."

"Christ, next you're going to start speaking in tongues."

"One day, maybe. You never know for sure."

"Ha-ha, just be careful around them, you know what they do."

As far as Ella was concerned, what Ms. Shelby and her family did was their business. She worked at the completely legit occult shop and Ms. Shelby assured her that she wouldn't have to worry about her dealings. It irritated Ella that Clara would think that she was so naïve, but she knew that she was just worried about her.

"I will." She reached over and grabbed her hand. "Promise."

She gave her a long look before squeezing her hand and letting it go. The sun started to descend from its highest point in the midday sky. Lunchtime was almost over, Ella was going to ask Clara if she wanted to start packing up, but she was busy fixing up her hair, eyes moving across the park and back to the ground hurriedly. Ella looked in the same direction to see what caused her friend to become unbalanced.

A tall, golden-brown skinned man with tiny jet-black dreads was walking towards them. Ella instantly recognized him; Jeremiah Jesus.

"Hello ladies," he called out.

"Well look what the cat dragged in?" Ella greeted.

"Well if it isn't the lovely Clara and my least favorite cousin."

Ella threw her half-eaten apple at him.

"Oi! Watch it," brushing off his shoulder, "gotta make sure I stay fresh."

"What brings you here Jeremiah?" Clara asked coyly.

"Spotted you two here and decided to see if you wanted an escort back to work."

Ella was about to tell him that it was unnecessary since it was still light out, but Clara interrupted.

"We'd love one!" Batting her eyelashes at him. "Do you mind giving us hand?

"Course not, love,” he winked.

A tight-lipped smile spread across Clara's face. "Thanks, Jeremiah."

Clara and Jeremiah packed the rest of the food back into the picnic basket while Ella folded up the blanket. Once the group gathered all the items they set off. Ella let her cousin get slightly ahead before she nudged Clara in her side.

"Thanks, Jeremiah," She said in a mocking sing-song voice.

"Shut it!" she whispered.

"What are you two doing back there?"

"Nothing." They said in unison.

"Yeah right," he scoffed, "keep up, will you?"

Ella grinned and squeezed Clara's hand in comfort. Clara resumed her stride once she was satisfied that Ella's teasing would stop.

"Some escort you are, not all girls have long legs like you."

Jeremiah turned around and moved between the two girls; wrapping his arms around them.

"There, that better for you?"

Ella was going to tell him where he could shove it but saw that her best friends' face was beaming at his casual touch and decided not to. They were three shops away from the tailors anyway.

"Alright I suppose," Ella muttered.

"I think it's very nice of you to walk us," Clara cheerfully added.

"Got to make sure you two make it to the weekend."

"Got any big plans for tomorrow?" Clara asked.

"Drinks, dancing, girls, the usual Friday night."

Clara's face fell and Ella could kick her clueless cousin in the knee. "Oh, sounds fun."

"Yeah you should swing by, Garrison's bound to be a good time."

At the mention of the Garrison, both girls stopped dead in their tracks causing Jeremiah to release his hold and face them.

"What? Something wrong?"

The girls exchanged a quick sideways glance.

"Nothing," Ella stammered out. "It's just I don't think we'll be able to go."

It was a valid excuse. Everyone knew that the Garrison was where the Blinders congregated. Ella's' mother would never let her go there; her job was one thing, but a Blinder pub was a completely different story. She was sure Clara's mother would feel the same.

"I can talk to Auntie for you," puffing out his chest, "I am her favorite nephew after all."

She did not doubt that he could convince her. After all, he's the one who convinced her into letting Ella work for Ms. Shelby. Ella felt cornered, she may have been a little hurt that she hadn't seen John but that didn't mean that she was going to get dressed up and go looking for him. She knew Jeremiah meant well, but she didn't want his help this time.

"Eh I'm not so sure you are anymore," Clara said, shaking her head.

Both Jeremiah and Ella looked at her with wide eyes.

"Oi! I expect that kind of lip from her but you," he pouted, "I thought you were on my side, love."

"I am!" she sputtered out.

Ella was the one pouting now.

Ignoring the look of betrayal on her best friend's face. "Mrs. Jones isn't likely to listen to a word you have to say after you not turning up to church last Sunday."

Clara was right. Mrs. Jones was a God-fearing woman who never missed a Sunday and had little patience for the excuses of those who did. Jeremiah would've better luck trying to charm the pants off of a nun.

"Right, never mind then," scratching the back of his head "Maybe next time yeah?"

Clara's shoulders drooped down but nodded and they all resumed their step-in silence. Ella felt awful. She knew Clara had a crush on Jeremiah since their school days. She may tease her about it, but she'd never wanted to stand in their way.

Once they arrived at the tailor shop door, she knew what she had to do.

'God help me.'

"You know what I'm eighteen now," she added, "I can make my own decisions and I think we should go."

Clara looked at her with wide eyes, eyebrows raised almost to the top of her forehead. "Really," quickly glancing at Jeremiah then back at her, "are you sure?"

"Yes," she insisted, "It could be fun."

"Yeah that's the spirit," Jeremiah exclaimed.

Clara, on the other hand, looked unconvinced but said nothing to contradict her. "Jeremiah do you mind waiting outside for a bit, I need Ella's opinion on a dress that I'm making, it won't take but a minute."

"Sure." He opened the door for them. "I'll just have a smoke."

She gave him her biggest and brightest smile. "Thanks again Jeremiah, see you."

She grabbed Ella and pulled her inside. Instantly her eardrums were assaulted by the sounds of sewing machines going off in discord. As they passed a few stations, Ella waved hello to a couple of the girls she knew from school, before coming to a stop at Clara's empty one.

"Where's the dress?" Ella asked.

Clara placed her picnic basket down before turning around and squinting her eyes at her.

"Right," Ella sighed, "no dress."

"Are you mental? Is that it?"

"No," she shrugged, "I don't think so anyway."

"Then why-" she paused, breathing in through her nose-"Why would you say yes."

Ella couldn't let her know that she was doing this for her. She'd never go and then her plan would be for nothing.

"I just think we deserve to have a good time is all, we've been working hard, especially you and all those orders, right?"

Clara shushed her and they looked around to see if anyone was listening in. Once they were content that no one was she continued.

"I mean yes but what if-"

"Just because we're going doesn't mean he'll be there; besides Jeremiah will be with us the entire time and we shouldn't have to miss out on a fun night because of him."

Clara said nothing, but from the look on her face, Ella was sure she'd won.

"Alright, we'll go, but we won't stay long yeah?"

Ella nodded. "Now, is there really not a dress or can I go?"

"Of course, there is and now that we're officially going, you're going to have a look at it, stay here."

Clara walked halfway towards the back before turning back as if she forgot something.

"Behave. please," she pleaded.

"I wasn't going to-"

She raised her chin and looked her in the eye.

"Fine," Ella mumbled.

When she was left to her own devices, Ella sat down at her friends' station. The sewing machine no different from the one her mum had at home, only bulkier. She grabbed some pins and started sticking them into the red pincushion. When she felt a shadow fall over her, she stopped and put it away.

"Finally," she joked, getting up from the seat, "Took you long enough."

But when she turned around it wasn't her best friend that was behind her. Instead, it was John Shelby sporting his signature smirk with a toothpick in his mouth.

He took it out and licked his lips. "Sorry love, I got held up."

Part Three

[sereisstuff]

Ｇｈｏｓｔ

summary of the tale - you’d had enough of the torment, leaving the city to reside in an old cottage on the outskirts of town, being a clairvoyant meant that if you searched the house only to find nothing you were right, Right?

Warning - fluff I guess

WORD COUNT - 2240

Throwing down the last of your boxes with a loud huff, you sighed out of satisfaction towards your hard work, placing your left hand on your hip as the other wiped the excess sweat off of your forehead, the home was surrounded by large pine trees that brought a fresh smell into your newly bought out-dated home, warm rays sunk through the home nicely as you admired the small fluff particles floating through the air.

Due to your so-called gift which brought an overwhelming weight on your shoulders, you’d chosen to part from the city, to live in a small cottage just a few minutes away from the packed central life and to say the least you were happy, you were absolutely liberated.

Although the home was quite old, you’d managed to search every square inch for any residing entities in hopes of not being completely thrown off by the serene aura filling the home, you weren’t that stupid, managing to find nothing your face lit with happiness, agreeing to the terms almost immediately as you found your dream home.

Jimin on the other hand, peeked through the doors, his transparent hand touching the edges of the flaky wooden door as he eyed you with utmost confusion, had you not known the history of the house, history of the previous owners and the tragic story of those who built the home, seemingly not seeing as you pulled out an old record player, placing it neatly on one of the built-in draws.

Searching through the boxes you found one of your favorite records, one by Ella Fitzgerald who stole your heart with her fantastic voice, feeling more old school you blew off a few pieces of what seemed like dust and quickly began to play it, of course, you could easily pull out your large speaker and boost some uncanny music, music so loud your neighboring peers would be able to hear it.

But you’d prefer the static sound of the 1930s

“This is gonna be some hard work” you prepared yourself after looking over the entire stack of boxes you carried yourself only to be interrupted by the rumble of your stomach, the grumble usually would embarrass you when you shared an apartment with your flatmate but now living alone you pat your stomach with a smile, your hands searching your pockets in hopes of ordering some take out, your phone began to ring, feeling as if you were being watched you shook of the all to known feeling, maybe it was just the sight of nature that gave off that impression.

Quickly leaving the room to grab your phone, Jimin thought since he was only a ghost you would walk straight through him, that was until you rammed straight into his chest as he flew back into the wall in shock, you screamed, a loud cursing scream which heightened with the added petrified scream coming from the entity himself, his white robe added a demonic look to him, his messy hair fell against his forehead as a tickling sensation ran up your chest.

Making direct eye contact with him, he paused, crawling towards you with trembling hands, unlike some his crawl was incredibly fast like a lion advancing on his prey, you shuffled back, how could an intruder enter so easily when this house hasn’t been owned for over a decade, maybe being in such a small place word really does run fast.

“Y-you can s-see me, right” Jimin’s lips quivered, your own eyes widening as you came to a realization, this man wasn’t an intruder this man lived here, he was a ghost.

For a second he was in disbelief, that couldn’t be, even a medium couldn’t see him so how could you, without a reply Jimin’s face turned sour, of course, you couldn’t what was he thinking getting his hopes up high only for them to come smashing down in waves of sadness, he wanted to cry, yet he couldn’t.

The tears he once despised he now craved for, only for them to come pouring down like ashes, he couldn’t feel anything so that must of been why he flew back, an immediate reaction of fear coming from him caused him to make an involuntary move, despicable it was, how fate treated him like this, what had he done to deserve such a life sentence trapped in a home which should have burnt down, or so the mystery goes.

“I-I can” you managed to release seeing the heartbroken entity snap his head up, he ran up to you, inches away from your face “You can see me” he repeated causing you to nod your head smelling a certain perfume or sweet essence emitting from him, his signature scent you could easily pick up, the smell you felt serene with once you entered the home days ago.

He had a pair of the most captivating inked out eyes, his eyes lacked color for sure and his hair had turned white adding a majestic look to him, he was like an empty canvas wallowing away in the artist basement, a piece longing for the light which bought it to life only to be left in darkness for all eternity.

Jimin didn’t know how to react, happy he was, he wanted to scream at the top of his lungs, knowing if it was you that shoved him maybe you could also feel his fragile touch “how did you get here” you exclaimed sitting straight, usually you felt the fear they had but he had none, more so, he was sad utterly heartbroken yet he didn’t know why.

Once he died he’d completely forgotten about his past, washed of his color in everything he’d worn the night starting like an empty piece of work ready to be written out “I don’t know, I’ve been here for centuries, can you help me” he cried, you thought to embrace him prior to having tainted thoughts of ghost such as him that tormented your everyday life.

“Did you say centuries” you nearly yelled, now looking around the home it was more than old, the home had a Victorian layout which could easily be noticed, Jimin nodded hesitantly, itching near you as he felt the warmth radiating from your body causing him to break into a smile, all these newfound emotions coiling in his mind made him feel faint.

“Do you promise not to mess with me” you suddenly said, a serious tone to your voice as you gave him a death staking glare, Jimin stood up, hand on what should have been his heart as he pledged to you “I, park jimin promise to not- wait what’s your name?”

You stood up in front of him “y/n” he nodded continuing his vow “I, Park Jimin promise not to mess with y/n and protect her from any oncoming evil entities from entering her home” protect, you didn’t know they could protect people, ghost usually kept to their own some trying to recall their memories through others as most just avoided demons and sunk into their self-pity.

“Nice to meet you, Jimin” you held your hand out for him to grasp, jimin was hesitant, staring at your pink-tinted hand with insecurity, what if he reached out and your hand fell through his, what if when he reached out you would completely disappear from his view and he would be brought back into reality, that was until you grabbed his malnourished hand in your own shaking it.

“Nice to meet you too y/n” Jimin yelped, he was giddy, excited for the journey that awaited for him never once wanting to leave your side unless desperate measure called you and he couldn’t tend to your side, he thought.

“I’m gonna call a bite to eat” You didn’t wait for him, moving towards the large lounge searching for your phone as your stomach rumbled terribly, growling ferociously “aha” you pulled the phone from its place, dialing the closest Chinese take out to your home ordering your favorite as jimin leant over you shoulder peering down at the phone.

“What’s that?” he curiously asked and your mouth gaped, centuries was it since the last owner had lived here, and that night you took your time, explaining all the new things to jimin as you showed him a few videos on you tube and binged watched marvel with him, he was entranced by the film making a few comments here and there not knowing it was all C.G.I.

“I’m gonna call it a night” you yawned, forgetting you hadn’t set up your bed yet so you groaned, Jimin had been gone for around an hour now probably residing somewhere else for a small break which you didn’t question only to see the light to your room shining brightly, narrowing your eyes you shoved the door open seeing him sitting there, surrounded by a clean neat room with a made bed and boxes cleared, he was inspecting what looked like on of your bras.

“Hey, give me that” you shouted, ripping it away from him, Jimin stood up abruptly ready to shout, but you had other plans your eyes turning into small crescents as you gazed upon the act, giving him a large hug “Thank you, you just saved me a lifetime full of work” 

“No problem, if you're gonna help me then I might as well repay the gesture” He shrugged it off like nothing forgetting to mention the groans and silent pleas of help he expressed lifting the boxes, “wait, question? if you’ve been here for centuries, what have you done for your whole afterlife” that question hit home for Jimin, he did nothing except grown frustrated over his memories, for a period of time he didn’t even believe he was dead until one fateful evening when a pair of detectives came to search the home.

Jimin at the time was but a mere scared and afraid teenager, with timid cries, he limped to the detectives, reaching out for help only for the other to turn to his friend and begin a conversation while walking straight through him, Jimin was perplexed, looking at his transparent fingertips while screaming in fear, after that day it all went downhill. Watching emotionless as many people came and left even so, one time a family had lived here, whom had a daughter around the age of 3 who could see jimin.

She kept him company as he played with her, although the family grew suspicious and watched as their daughter who started going ‘crazy’ knowing he was labelled as her imaginary friend he probably shouldn’t have gotten his hopes up high, one day they just up and left, the young child thrashing around as jimin stood sadly in the large window waving her a goodbye as she reached out for him saying his name one last time before being shoved into the car.

“I see, sorry,” you noticed his daze look forgetting about the topic.

“Would you mind if I slept next to you tonight” Jimin asked shyly, you thought about it for a while, looking back and forth between him and your king sized bed he’d managed to set up himself before sighing, “sure” he smiled, turning off the light as the moon beheld a luminescent light and the gentle breeze coursed through your lace curtains.

You struggled in the bed for a moment, sighing when you finally found your spot, Jimin excitedly moved a bit too close for your liking, “Jimin, could you give me some space please” you asked kindly even though guilt began pooling in your stomach once you saw his face contort in regret, he didn’t mean to bring you discomfort, what if you leave him now.

“I’m so-sorry, I’ll leave” you pulled him back down into the bed shoving a plus-hie into his arms as you laid to rest facing him “stay, okay, it’s alright I just have a thing for personal space, I didn’t mean any harm” he shook his head cutely, you pulled the blanket over yourself jimin not caring for the warmth of the blanket only feeling faint warmth from you.

Hours passed by and you slept nicely, Jimin often closed his eyes for a moment imagining scenarios he wished had happened if he was real, the garden outside would be filled with flamboyant colors and not such dead leaves, the grass would be cut and he would replace the home with a welcoming aura, inviting his friends over.

Jimin tossed and turned all night causing you to groan as you rumbled awake “god, Jimin can you stop” you opened one eye only to scream when his white blank eyes were but a mere inch away from you, shoving his face back as he fell off the bed, shaking his head.

“Hey I was sleeping” he whined, “you looked dead” you yelled only to realize what you just said “maybe because I am” he yelled back jumping back on to the bed with the plus hie in his arms, “rude” you turned your back to him slightly giggling at the interaction, Jimin glanced back smiling towards you, oh how excited he was for the future.

You both fell into your own abyss of imagination, his much different from yours, as the night went on and days passed you had a friend to keep you company even if it wasn’t what you expected;

[imagine-loki]

Pride and Prejudice

TITLE: Pride and Prejudice CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 40 AUTHOR: wolfpawn

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki was raised on Jotunheim as Laufey’s son after the war, but an agreement was then made that he would wed Odin’s daughter so Odin could secure the alliance of Jotunheim through the marriage. Loki, in turn, was raised to be king of Jotunheim, but how he views Asgard is far different from how Odin’s daughter is raised leading to a clash of cultures as well as uncertainty between the pair of betrothed youths.     RATING: Mature   NOTES/WARNINGS: Forced Marriage, not all fun and games. My first real step back into the Loki scene in over a year.

Tags - @skulliebythesea @asimovethroughthisworld @blackcherry26-blog @we-shadowhunter2901

Ella sauntered through the palace, bored and not in any form of mood for discussion. She hoped that she would not have to deal with anyone for the day as Laufey had felt tired and not wished to deal with the exhausting matters of court in such a state so the palace was not as busy as it tended to be on the occasions he did have court in session. 

The fighting was still going. In one respect, it was soothing to know the lines of defence were strong and readied by the border with Alfheim should they be required. She, herself had added to it by going there and using spells she knew protected the Aesir palace as well as others to assist if they needed to destroy the crops that were growing in the area. It broke her heart to look at the now full and worked fields and know that there was a chance that they would have to be destroyed but she knew that they could farm more if required. If an enemy came, tired and hungry and ate, therefore replenishing their strength, it could be what would end their lives.  

The requests were made to Asgard and Vanaheim for food supplies. Vanaheim sent what they could but they were shipping anything they had directly to Alfheim for troops there, something the Jotnar respected. Asgard, on the other hand, had been storing food for if it was required to assist Alfheim should the war take all of their food but Ella had written to her father herself, she knew how to word it and how to ask and sure enough, Odin prepared immediate supplies with a solemn promise of more should one single foe arrive on Jotunheim.  She had a reply sent stating that nothing would be used unless required and if the war ended before it was needed, the Jotnar would ensure every morsel would find its way to Alfheim to those who required it there. 

It felt like it had been going on for a year if not more. She felt as though everything was changing in Jotunheim, better as a result of having the power of the Casket once more, the longer it had to assist the realm, the better the realm bloomed but it seemed so odd, most of the men were gone. It was lonely. She enjoyed Greta’s company as often as she could but she found herself wanting to just stay in Loki’s rooms more and more, though she found it did not feel quite as it did before. The smell he seemed to have was long gone from the room yet she felt wrong not staying there. She tried one night but found herself quickly using her seidr to magic herself there again. 

Men came back every so often, wounded or worn in some manner by the war. Most injured, it seemed, were being treated in a special facility on Alfheim being headed by Eir, the chief Elven Healer and  Magnar, the most senior healer of Jotunheim, all three working to assist any being from any of the realms that required them there. Only those with issues that could be dealt with easier on Jotunheim were sent back. She had listened to what they or their families told the court of what was occurring on Alfheim. More than once, Loki, and indeed Byleistr and Helbindi were mentioned by those who returned before even Laufey could ask after them. Ella felt pride in hearing that Loki was both a competent and strong leader, ensuring he would ask no other to do something he would not willingly do himself but she found herself fearful that that risked him being hurt. She could only hope he kept his wits about him so that he would return. She had been relieved to have been wrong on Byleistr and his allegiances. But it was one matter she rather that she would be wrong about. Everything was odd with the situation regarding angrboda but it was salvageable. She knew that going to war and seeing that a matter such that, though hurtful and somewhat backhanded was nothing when you see the brutality of war. When the brothers returned, and she truly hoped that when and not ‘if’, even if Byleistr was not someone she was overly fond of because of his behaviour and actions to Loki, they would put everything behind them and continue forward for the betterment of the realm and their bond as brothers. 

Tired, she avoided others and went back to the rooms, sitting amongst the items that littered the different surfaces of Loki’s personal space. She never touched a single item since he left, nor did she snoop any of the written items. The only items she ever touched were the books that were on the reading shelves he had more than once offered her the choice to pick from. Everything else was exactly as he had left it and she would maintain that if he was gone for a week, a month or a year more. Feeling somewhat down in herself, she walked into the bedroom and went to curl up in the bed yet she found herself not feeling comforted by the idea of getting into it. She walked over to the area where Loki kept the very few items of clothing he owned. Ceremonial robing and armour being the only items he had there as well as the armour he was supposed to bring with him but she had magicked better, stronger armour instead. Amongst all of it was a long robe, dark and fur-trimmed. She had noted it before but never thought much of it. Walking over, she touched the soft material for a moment before bringing it closer to her, noting that it smelt of Loki. She subconsciously brought it with her to the bed and wrapped herself in it, taking in Loki’s smell, using it to relax her into a sleep better than she had for a significant time. 

*

Loki’s limbs ached. He felt as though they would never feel rested again. He could see the palace in front of him. He could see his home but it felt as though he could never be able to speed himself up to get there. 

The war ended. After eight hard and brutal months of constant fighting, battles daily, their foes realised the Light Elves, Vanir, Aesir and Jotnar refused to bow or break and would meet them on the battlefield each and every day and with Thor coming to a breaking point and his Berserker side being unleashed, decimating a whole battlefield of foe in the process, the enemy conceded defeat. Luckily, Loki had noticed Thor as he lifted the body of an Elven child the enemy had brought to the battlefield to taunt them with. He noted the anger in Thor’s eyes but most importantly, he saw when the anger and other emotions began to leave them and when they became blank and his nostrils flared. With a bellow to get out of the way, the Jotnar and their allies did exactly that leaving Thor to destroy everything around him. When he came to again, it was Loki standing closest to him. 

“My sister told you my warnings?” “She did.” Thor nodded solemnly. “Good. Well, not good. I have not done that in a long time. I thought I was beyond it.” 

Loki could see his shame. He realised then that Thor did see the ramifications of his actions, even if it was only afterwards. “What we saw would provoke any bring into anger.” He consoled. “I will admit I killed with more willing than I have before today after seeing that child.” 

“That gives some solace to me.” Thor inhaled deeply. “It does not stop me wondering if I will ever control myself. But thank you.” He looked at Loki. “For protecting our allies and for braving coming closer to me than even my friends to see if I had returned to myself.” “Just do not tell Ella. She warned me specifically not to.” “I will say nothing,” Thor promised. 

Thinking back at Thor’s actions, however grateful he was that he did go Berserk, it scared him how strong and uncontrollable it was. But they were home now, so he needed to get on with life even with everything that happened. Assist his father with running the realm, and deal with everything that occurred as a result of the war. Vanaheim had planned to do deals with them, now Alfheim was adamant that they too wished to trade post haste with Jotunheim. They needed assistance getting back to normal after the war that terrorised their lands, they had so much that they needed to fix, Jotunheim was somewhere that could assist them so they wished to start talks immediately. He wanted nothing more than to hide from the realms. To go to his rooms and not see anyone for days, he wondered how long he would get. He did not think his father would ask too much of them for the next few days, or so he hoped. He knew they would have to explain everything but he still needed rest. He wanted solitude and silence. 

“I can smell my bed.” 

Loki looked over at Helbindi. 

“I can smell it and I will not leave it for a week bar to find Greta and bring her to it.” 

“What if she has found another in your absence?” Loki asked. 

“I have little to fear, Byleistr was with us.” 

The oldest Laufeyson growled at his youngest brother’s comment. 

“Live with it,” Helbindi scoffed. “You will be the butt of such jokes for the rest of our lives, even if Loki is too decent to say it.”

“And you’re not?” Byleistr growled. 

“No,” Helbindi looked him in the eyes as he spoke. “He may let it go but not me.”

“Enough, both of you. Don’t you think we have seen our fill of fighting? I never wish to see any fight again, especially over something so menial.”

“Exactly,” Byleistr agreed. 

“If ‘Leist want my leftovers, then he can have them.” Byleistr stared at him in shock. “I am not bothered anymore. I have my mate, her race allows for more frequent offspring and I don’t care outside of that anymore. I will focus on what I am required to do for the realm and I don’t care who mates who outside of that. Take two mates, take twenty, I don’t care. I don’t care about pathetic menial matters any longer. One thing all of this has taught me is that there is too much petty arguing over non-issues. Between us, in court, between realms. We need to focus on more actual issues. Solidifying the ties we have now formed so that we are never forced to face something like this by ourselves, that is all I care about now.” 

Helibindi sniggered to himself at Loki’s final comment on the matter, knowing that Byleistr would not say any more on the matter for fear of having Loki snap at him. He knew Byleistr and indeed his mates wanted to return to the palace with the rest of court, so too did he know that Loki knew this. One suggestion from Loki to send him back to the outskirts of the realm and there was a high probability of Laufey doing so. 

The palace was nothing but dark shadows in the pale moonlight. The realm was asleep and personally, Loki was glad it was. He did not want a large number of Jotnar there for their return, he just wanted to go home, he wanted his rooms, nothing more. He was so relieved to be back to the cold and normal temperatures of Jotunheim and back to everything that was ordinary. 

The palace was in silence and darkness. 

“Where is Father?” Byleistr growled. 

“In bed, like I suspect your mates are,” Loki replied. “As I suspect everyone is.” 

“We should have been announced.” “There is nothing to announce. We are back.”

“We won.” “And to do that, we had to kill the most beings on the opposite side, that really winning ‘Leist?”

“The Brute did the most killing.”

“Prince Thor may have done the most killing but so too did he show the most remorse.” Helbindi pointed out. “I spoke with the portly one, Volstagg when we were both at Gravel Ridge. He told me that for all his bravado, Prince Thor does nothing but sit in solitude and contemplate his actions after a fight. He tries to condone the actions he has to do and if we are to be honest, we would still be there if he had not done the ‘most killing’ as you put it. He scared them into stopping and I am grateful for that. I am grateful to be home. I am going to take Greta as my mate, I am going to try and have a family and I am going to try and only have daughters so they never have to go through that, that is my plan for the next three thousand years. Maybe another mate or two as well, if I find any that suit Greta and myself.” “And if Greta has found another?” Loki asked. 

“No, she won’t, I know it.” Helbindi shook his head. “She said she would wait. I know she will.” 

Loki could only smile at his brother’s certainty. 

“What about your mate?”

Loki frowned at his younger brother. “What of her?” “You have not mentioned her.” “Should I have?” “She is a duty, Loki is all about duty. Always has been. What is there to even talk about?” Byleistr commented. “I am grateful every day that it was you that the Allfather found and not me.”

Loki said nothing. He thought often of Ella but he knew she would not stray in his absence. Her sense of duty rivalled if not out-competed his own. “I do not need to worry about her seeking company elsewhere, she is honourable.” He commented. “With regards to mentioning her, I will repeat, should I have? Nor do you particularly care.”

“I like her.” Helbindi declared unapologetically. “She is jovial and there’s a streak of something you can see in her eyes, like she would be smiling at you while also learning the best way to strike you down without even noticing it until you see her next to you with a blood-covered blade and you realise she has slit the throat of a being who tried to wrong you.” 

Byleistr stared at him in horror while Loki eyed him suspiciously. “How did you come to that conclusion?”

Byleistr looked appalled at Loki. “How are you not disputing such a statement?” “Because it is entirely true. Have you not realised my mate is incredibly adept at such things? You told me yourself that she entered the palace without alerting you until she was in it by calling your name and that she swore to force you to come back if you did not do so willingly. I have seen her do things that would very much confirm that to be an accurate analysis, what worries me is how ‘Bind knows.” “As I said, I spoke with the Aesir when we were waiting.” Helbindi shrugged. 

With references to Ella, Loki felt even more in want of going into the palace. His pace hastened slightly and he made his way to it, relieved when it was no longer soft snow but hard ice of the steps to it under his feet. 

They made their way through the halls swiftly enough before coming to the royal wing. 

“Will we tell Father?” Helbindi asked. 

“No, let him rest. We shall see him in the morning.” Loki stated, knowing from the reports through their time away that their father was weary. “Go, get some rest.” He urged before heading to his own rooms. He inhaled deeply and opened the door. 

On walking in, it felt peculiar. Similar but different all at once. Everything was exactly as he left it the day he left, except there were a few pieces added too. Walking through everything, he noted that there was something else different in his personal space, something felt slightly off. He opened his bedroom door and noted that there seemed to be a momentary green spark as he did so. He was unsurprised when Ella sat up in the bed looking concerned. For a moment, she looked at him tiredly before her eyes widened. 

“Loki?” “Hello.” 

“You…”

If he was honest, Loki was slightly taken back by the genuine smile on her face. “It’s over.” With a small laugh of relief, she beamed back at him. Loki shed off the armour on his body and got into the bed on his side. “Why are you in my cape?” “I am cold.” “You never get cold.” He eyed her worriedly. 

“I am not as good at regulating my body temperature recently so I get cold from time to time,” She explained. “And it reminds me of you.” “Have you even seen me in it?” 

“Twice.” 

Too tired to care too greatly, Loki sighed and lay back before groaning. “I missed this bed.” 

“Get some rest,” Ella urged settling to get comfortable again. 

Loki noted the peculiar night garment she was donning, it looked ridiculous and shapeless, but since she stated she was cold, he thought little of it. He had honestly thought he would be bothered or at best, simply non-plussed with having to share his rooms with her again after such a situation. He had been thinking that he would ask her to give him some space for a day or two. But now he felt entirely different, as though it felt unnatural to not have her there, as though he needed to protect her. He could not help but feel like the only place she should be was beside him, under his watchful eye and it felt peculiar to him to think such.