#and it only got better once I followed my instincts instead of the nurses advice

[keylimegreendog20]

Despite having probably the worst physical experience possibly of my entire life when I donated for the first time last spring, I might try again…..

I can't donate, but if you can, consider doing it.

[thescreamingraven]

Promise 3

Dabi x reader

Genre/warnings: Fluff and angst, mentions of injury, swearing.

Words: 7 510

Summary:  Trying to fix what’s broken is not always easy.

≿————-　❈　————-≾

Hey, hey, so sorry this took so long I had a bit of a writers block but here it is, I’m thinking of doing part four soon. I think this turned out pretty well tho.

≿————-　❈　————-≾I

It was already quite dark  outside, bright street lights added to the scenery as small snowflakes began to slowly decorate the sidewalks. Inside the cozy home, the smell of deliciously cooked food still lingered. It would’ve been a peaceful night if it weren’t for your loudly pouting son, who refused to listen to you.

  “Enji told me I’m strong enough to come…” your son pestered you.

  You put back one plate in the sink, looking down at the boy in front of you if you could call him that… he was soon going to be fourteen and in agreement with Endeavor will be starting U.A in only a couple of weeks. He was so eager to get into action that he wouldn’t stop pestering about letting him start patrols early.

You saw Hawks walking out of the bathroom with his hero suit on.

  “Give the kid a chance Y/n, it’s not like he will be doing it alone.” he chirped.

  “See, even Hawks agrees with me.”

  You crossed your arms, and leaned on the kitchen counter, giving Hawks a death stare, which he tried to soften up with his casual smirk.

  “It could be an early birthday present?” Your son suggested.

  You sighed and let your hands fall in defeat, his puppy eyes taking a toll on you.

“Be back by midnight or you’re grounded.”

  You could see his face light up with joy as he gave you the tightest hug imaginable.

You gave him an encouraging smile, before gesturing him to go get ready, as he was rushing to his room you shouted. “Don’t forget your jacket angel, it’s quite chilly tonight.”

  “He’s grown up so fast…” Hawks walked closer to you and leaned on the counter.

  “That he did…” you smiled before looking back at him. “Are you sure it’s safe? Criminal activity has skyrocketed recently and-”

  “He’ll be fine, we won’t let anything happen to him… promise.” He gave your hand a light squeeze.

  You both stayed silent for a moment before Hawks spoke yet again.

  “So… when are we going to tell him?”

  Your smile slowly faded away as you slipped your hand away from Hawks.

  “Soon…”

  “You’ve been saying that for almost 5 months now-”

  Hawks was interrupted by an opening door from your son’s room as he quickly rushed back to the kitchen.

“Sorry to keep you waiting Hawks, you ready to go?”

  Hawks concerned look was replaced by his usual wit and charm as he yammered.

  “Always ready for you, kid.” He turned back to you. “We’re heading out.”

  You nodded, saying a quick goodbye and getting back to the dishes you were doing.

≿————-　❈　————-≾

  Hawks quietly closed the front door and caught up to S/n, who was casually standing near the sidewalk. “Ready to fight crime?” Hawks asked as he approached him.

  “Hell yeah I am, I still can’t believe she allowed me to go.”

  “Your mom’s just worried about you, kid.”

  “I know, but she can be a bit overbearing sometimes… I’m not five years old anymore, I can fight now…”

  “It’s better to have that kind of parent than none at all.” Hawks murmured.

  “I know.”

  “Anyway… ready to go?”

  “Hell yeah.” your son grinned.

  “I like your enthusiasm, kid.”

≿————-　❈　————-≾

  It’s been fourteen years since that day….

    You were sitting on a nearby chair near the receptionist, patiently waiting for Endeavor to arrive with your daughter. You thought about your conversation with Dabi and silently prayed that he would only make the right choice. Your thoughts were interrupted by your daughter’s excited screams as she dragged the tall figure across the hall.

She let go of Endeavor’s hand when she saw you and leaped into your arms with a huge grin on her face.

  “Mommy, daddy’s not asleep anymore.”

  You gently brushed strands of hair from her face, softly purring.“I know angel… and he can’t wait to see you.”

  You looked up at Endeavor.

“Will you-”

  “I think I’d be better if I stayed back for a bit…. I don’t want Tou—Dabi to get the wrong idea.”

  You gave him a nod, setting your daughter down on the ground, taking her hand in yours as you took a deep breath before opening the door. Your eyes wandered to the bed Dabi was lying in moments ago, but yet you found nothing.

Your daughter stood there confused, tugging on your hand and asking for her father.

Endeavor saw the way you froze and came to investigate, when he saw the bed empty he called the nurses to ask if they’d seen him leave. But you assured him you were sitting near the door the whole time and didn’t see him leave, the window wasn’t open either.

You walked over to the nearby stand and found a brief note with only two words on it.

  I’m sorry.

Ever since that day, your daughter changed. She became closed off and cold, whenever you tried talking about her father you were met with silence until one day you mentioned his name, and she responded with a shocking answer.

  “Dabi… who’s that?”

  The doctors said it was something called dissociative amnesia, and that’s why she couldn’t remember her father, her brain blocked him out, it being a traumatic event. You were scared that she may forget everything else, but the doctor quickly calmed you down.

After her amnesia started she became her old self again, the same warm, hopeful person you once knew. She never asked for her father’s whereabouts, she just enjoyed life, spending the days with Endeavor, completely forgetting about her father's quirk.

Endeavor had suggested for her to become a hero like him, but your daughter just brushed it off. Instead, your daughter left the country  to follow her dreams, she got into a good college and made her own life… she even met someone special...

≿————-　❈　————-≾

  After you had your son, life became a bit more complicated, him being born with your quirk and having the number one pro hero as his grandfather really boosted his confidence; he began to train in secret when he was only seven years old, but it didn’t stay hidden for long. At first, you were a bit skeptical about the thought of him becoming a hero... but when you saw how your son’s face lit up when Endeavor suggested training him, well how could you say no?

  Your son hated Dabi, ever since he first saw one of his victims appear on the news he vowed to himself to at least destroy him if not all villains.

So when he asked about his dad…it got a little awkward, you would brush it off saying you’d explain it to him when he’s older. After a few years, he just gave up accepting the fact that he didn’t have a father… well, not a biological one.

  Ever since Dabi left, Hawks stayed glued to your side like a magnet, attending to your every need and satisfying your every craving. He even took some time off work, of the last few weeks of your pregnancy, whenever you would ask him about his generosity he would just brush it off with “I guess it’s my bird instincts” But you knew it was something deeper than that, he never had a normal family before maybe this was his way of establishing one.

When your son was born, Hawks didn’t leave his side, you didn’t know why he did what he did, taking the father role in his life as he did, he was there when he said his first words and took his first steps. He used to get up in the night to feed him and babysat him while you worked. While his actual father was doing god knows what... you tried calling him and texting him several times yet to no avail. Endeavor suggested to go out and find him, yet you declined the offer. If a villain is what he wanted to be, then so be it.

  You were furious at him for being such a stubborn person that he was, if only he would’ve stayed and actually solved the problems together rather than taking them on himself… maybe things would’ve been different...

Your thoughts were interrupted by a notification from your phone, you stood up from the couch and walked over to it and were met by a concerning message from Hawks.

≿————-　❈　————-≾

  Hawks and S/n were walking through an empty valley, dim street lights barely lighting up their path.

“So… this is patrolling, huh.”

  “You don’t sound very excited, what... is this too boring for you?” Hawks leered.

  “I just thought there would be more action is all.”

  “The league has been really quiet recently, they’re probably planning something big.” Hawks stated before he caught a glimpse of curiosity from the boy beside him. “Don’t look at me like that…if your mother learned that I put you in danger in any way, she would make me a flightless chicken with that death stare of hers.”

  “You’re such a sap, ya know.” S/n chuckled.

  “Sorry?”

  “Y/n this, Y/n that… just go kiss her already.”

  “I don’t think you understand how relationships work.” Hawks scratched his head nervously.

  “You’ve been doing this for years, Hawky it’s time to make a move.”

  Hawks coughed, speeding up his pace, trying to hide the embarrassment so clearly written all over his face.

  “Is it because of him?” S/n wondered, catching up.

  “Him?”

  “My dear old dad… you shouldn’t be discouraged, he’s probably dead, anyway.”

  “Wh—why do you think so?”

  “Well, I assume since neither one of you are telling me about him.”

  “He’s—it’s complicated-”

  “And we’ll tell you when you’re older, right, right. I know the poem.” S/n mocked.

  “But isn’t it the perfect reason to confess soon? If the guy is still alive, who knows she might get back with him… so you should make a move while she’s still single.”

  “Ya know, when I thought about what I’d be doing with my life, I certainly did not imagine getting dating advice from a kid. Have you ever even seen a girl?” Hawks teased.

  “Of course I have, you ass…”

  Both of them walked in silence for a while, before S/n mumbled. “I think you’d make her really happy… and I-” Hawks saw the way S/n hesitated before continuing. “I wouldn’t mind having you for a father.” he quickly added.

“If you tell anyone I said that I’ll make sure you suffer a worse fate than being a flightless chicken.”

  “Kid I-”

  Hawks stopped himself from speaking any further when he heard a noise coming from behind them. He turned around shushing S/n and trying to listen in to the noise, which now became clearer...

At least 10 figures appeared from the shadow covered corners surrounding the two of them.

Hawks stepped closer to S/n, pulling him against himself, and mumbled.

“Stay close kid.”

  The pursuiters stayed quiet, letting out a few maniacal laughs.

  “Why are we not attacking?” S/n whispered, his question being ignored by the hero as he scanned the situation thoroughly.

  Suddenly another shadowy figure appeared, yet this one was a bit taller and muscular than the others.

  “Well, colour me impressed, here I thought you were dead already.” Hawks remarked as the figure slowly stepped into the light.

S/n froze upon seeing the scared men clearer, he looked even more monstrous in person.

  “The league wants to have a word,” Dabi spoke, looking at Hawks who was trying to keep S/n from his piercing eyes.

“They always do, sadly I don’t have time for a tea party at the moment… how does next Tuesday sound?”

  Dabi only rolled his eyes and gestured to the goons. “Get the bird, I don’t care what you do with the kid.”

  The ten figures let out several chuckles before slowly beginning to walk closer.

“It seems it’s your lucky day, kid. I’ll take the right side and you take the left.”

  “This will be fun.” S/n grinned.

  It all happened very quickly, the five figures on the left attacked S/n. He could tell they were inexperienced, so it didn’t take that long for him to defeat them, yet Hawks had a more tough time fighting, trying to dodge Dabis attacks which were thrown randomly for his amusement, no less.

Yet he wasn’t careful enough, one single slip up, caused Hawks to lose balance as he tripped and landed near S/n. He tried to get up again, but his muscles weren’t complying. He looked back up to Dabi who’s blue fire seemed to get uncomfortably closer by the second. He closed his eyes, shielding himself with his wings for the upcoming attack…. And yet nothing came, he quickly let his wings fall onto the ground and saw S/n standing before him with his arm raised, fresh steam coming from it, his hand burnt, now purplish and Dabi standing there frozen.

Dabi let his flames dive down, slowly walking forwards.

  “You’re-” S/n mumbling was interrupted by sharp, throbbing in his hand, he fell to the ground screaming in pain as Hawks rushed to his side.

Endeavor must have heard the commotion as S/n could hear his voice in the distance yelling something he couldn’t comprehend. He saw Dabis eyes hesitate before he slowly backed away, back into the shadows he came from; he saw Hawks who was shouting for Endeavor to hurry and restrain the remaining goons and he slowly fell into darkness.

≿————-　❈　————-≾

  The two heroes quietly sat in the waiting room, anxiously looking at the staff that were passing by, before a familiar voice casually spoke. “He’ll be fine mister Endeavor, whatever caused his hand to burn up like that did some serious damage but with some stitches, we were able to fix it.”

“Thank you, doc we appreciate it.” Hawks sighed. “Could we… see him now?”

  The doctor gave them a quick nod before walking away, both of them followed close behind as Hawks tried to calm down his shaking heart.

They walked over to one of the rooms on the right wing before the doctors opened the door.

  “He should be awake soon, and whatever you have the time, there are some forms that I need you to sign.”

  “That’s fine, just give us a minute?” Hawks asked, walking over to the boy’s side.

  The doctor mumbled something under their breath before walking out.

Hawks scanned the boy’s hand, which was now heavily bandaged. “Y/n is going to kill us.” he looked back at Endeavor. “Did you call her already?”

  “No… not yet.”

  “Good, let’s… just wait a little while longer…”

  Both were quiet for a moment before Hawks mustered up the courage to ask.“Do you think he knows…?”

  “I’m sure he does, it isn’t that difficult to figure it out.”

  “So what do we do about him ? If he tells the league-”

  “He won’t, you and I both know that.” Endeavor cut him off.

  “We don't, he isn’t a very predictable person Enji and even if he doesn’t, those goons of his will. Didn’t you tell me one got away?”

  “Yeah… I’ll take care of it, in the meantime...I think we should postpone his U.A training…”

  Hawks looked down on S/n unconscious body remembering the endless tiring training sessions the two of them had.

“There has to be another way… he worked so hard for it, maybe we can take certain precautions-”

  “We’ll talk about this at home… I better go and tell Y/n,” Endeavor declared, pulling out his phone.

  “I’ll do it, you’re not exactly too subtle with words, you stay here.” Hawks stood up from his seat, pulling his phone out of his pocket, and walked out of the room, closing the door behind him.

  Endeavor sat there quietly, thoughts racing of what he should do, a thought of moving you two out even further away from the city flashed his mind, but he quickly shook it off. When he lifted his gaze from the ground he saw S/n laying awake, examining his hand.

“It’s good to have you back, son… how are you feeling?”

  “I’m fine… can we go home?” He asked with a gloomy sigh.

  “I don’t think that’s…”

  The door suddenly opened, revealing a slightly irritated Hawks, with the doctor following behind him.

“He’s all free to go if he wishes, just try to be careful with that hand of yours… it will sting for a while…”

  “Thank you, doc.” Hawks asserted. “What would we do without you?”

  “Do you seriously want me to answer that?”

  Hawks chuckled, walking over to S/n bed and giving him an apologetic smile.

“Ready to go home, champ?”

≿————-　❈　————-≾

  You sat patiently waiting on the couch as the door finally opened and your son walked in holding his bandaged hand. You rushed to his side, pulling him into your arms, trying not to squeeze too hard. “S/n… are you okay? Does your hand hurt?”

  “How… how could you keep this away from me….” he mumbled, pulling back.

  “Kid-” Hawks tried putting a hand on his shoulder to calm him down.

  “Don’t touch me, don’t you fucking touch me.” your son choked.

  “Angel...”

  “Shut up, you’re no better.” he snapped. “I need an honest answer and you’re going to give me one.”

  “Is he—Is that sociopath, murderous bastard, really my father?”

  You and Hawks looked at each other before murmuring “I… yes he is....look I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I just-”

“We didn’t want you to overreact,” Hawks added.

  “Oh… oh… you thought I would overreact? Yeah, okay, so instead of just straight up saying hey you have a sociopath for a father, you hide and keep it a secret from me. Well, you got your overreaction, I hope you’re happy, bursting with fucking joy no doubt.” S/n mocked.

“So for how long were you planning to keep this to your deary selves?”

  “We-”

  Endeavor finally decided to join in the conversation.

“As long as we had to… if the public found out--if the league found out you’d not be only putting all of us in danger but yourself as well. The league could use you as their trumpet card.”

  Your son stood silent for a minute, thinking if he should continue to stand his ground or walk away, he decided he needed to cool off first before continuing this conversation and walked away, shutting himself in his room with a loud slam.

“I need to go talk to him…”

  “No, what you need to do is give him some space… he’s confused and hurt, adding more fuel to the fire won’t make it go out faster.” Hawks reassured you, wrapping one of his arms around your waist and leading you into the kitchen.“Let’s sit down and I’ll make you some tea, alright? Enji do you want some?”

  “Can’t... I need to go to my agency, explain what happened and all.”

  “I… alright try not to take too long.”

  Endeavor only hummed before walking back to the entrance.

≿————-　❈　————-≾

  “I’m sorry…” Hawks said with a sense of guilt.”I should’ve listened to you. I feel like such an asshole for convincing you to let me bring him along.”

  “You’re not the one to blame, I should have told him sooner.” you stammered.“What if he never forgives us… what will we do… I’m so scared Keigo… I-”

  He pulled another kitchen chair beside yours, wrapping his wings around and holding you close. “He will... just give the kid some time.”

  “How can you say that so confidently, look at Endeavor, and… he never forgave him.”

  “Different situation.” Hawks assured. “What’s the saying? Time heals all wounds.”

  You hugged him tighter and mumbled into his shoulder. “How did—how did he look?”

  Hawks sighed. “He hasn’t changed much… maybe a bit more scarred.”

  “I see… did he… you know...”

  “No, he didn’t say much.”

  “Why was he even there? You told me that area was secure.”

  “The league really wanted to have a word, whatever that means.”

  You pulled away from his warm comforting embrace and cupped his cheek

“I’m… I’m glad that you’re okay, you are okay, right?”

  “Yeah, a few cuts and bruises here and there but I’m fine… I should probably go clean up now that you mention it, don’t want them to get infected.”

  “I’ll help,” you muttered.

≿————-　❈　————-≾

  When S/n slammed his door, he immediately fell against it. He sat there, his hands on his knees, staring at the mirror in front of him, his mind racing empty but at the same time full of thoughts.

He sat there for a long time, listening in on your conversation with Hawks. He sighed, finally getting up, and walked up to the mirror. Standing there, he looked over his features. He looked at his face and couldn’t help but finally see how similar the two of them actually were; he remembered Dabi's sharp eyes smiling at the amusement of Hawks struggle... how did he not see it sooner . He looked down at his hands, flashbacks coming back, the blue flame consuming it, consuming him.

You’re just like him.

  How could you ever be a hero?

  Murderer…

  Monster….

  His mind raced to every possible possibility of his future, is he destined to become like him?

  It’s in your blood…

  That will be you someday, and everyone will hate you.

  Your family hates you, that’s why they lied.

  They fear you...

His thoughts were interrupted by a loud shattering noise, as he looked up, he saw his fist covered in blood, the mirror shattered, shards all scattered around the room. But yet there was still one small piece hanging up. He looked at it, and when he did, he didn’t see himself; he saw a broken, battered figure that so clearly resembled him.

S/n stumbled back, his breathing becoming quicker and quicker. He reached for his phone that was laying next to him on the ground and tried calling the only person he thought could help. It was already almost two am, so he could only pray to get a response in return.

After a few tries, the person finally picked up, with a sleepy undertone in his voice.

“Hello?”

≿————-　❈　————-≾

  S/n walked through an almost empty street when the playground finally came into view. On the swings sat a slouched figure, slowly rocking back and forth, his head was fixated on the ground, as he tried to push the sleepiness away.

The figure’s gaze quickly left the ground as he heard someone's footsteps approach his direction. He gave S/n a small wave and gestured for him to take a seat at the swing next to him, and so he did.

  “I’m sorry I called so late…” S/n mumbled.

  Shoto looked over at the kid, who was tapping his boots nervously. His eyes quickly made their way to the freshly bandaged hand.

“It is quite alright, you didn’t sound good on the phone… Did something happen?”

  S/n shook his head as he stayed quiet, trying to muster and find the right words to say.

≿————-　❈　————-≾

  “And done…” you chirped, gesturing Hawks to stand up from the chair.

  “Thanks… see I told you it wasn’t that bad,” he replied, putting his shirt back on.

  “Yeah…”

  You put away the bloodied towel and looked back in the direction of your son’s room.

Hawk’s eyes softened as he approached you. “I’ll go check on him, okay?”

  Your eyes snapped back to Hawks as you let out a sigh.

“I’d appreciate it,” you muttered.

  Hawks mustered a smile as he stood up and gave you a few pats on the head, before walking away and heading to your son’s room direction.

It was only but moments before he was standing at your son’s door, trying to listen in on any movements from his side. Not hearing a sound, he took a deep breath in and slowly turned the doorknob.

  “S/n…”

  He stopped, freezing up as he scanned the room. The window was open; the mirror laid shattered, shards scattered around everywhere, he saw S/n phone lying on the floor, and a few drops of blood on it.

  “Y/n we have a problem, ” He yelled, running back to the kitchen to pick up his phone.

≿————-　❈　————-≾

  S/n told Shoto everything that happened in great detail, trying to muster the strength against his bottled up emotions. After the whole story was told, the both of them remained silent, before Shoto finally spoke.

  “I know how you feel.” he trailed off. “I’m sorry this happened to you S/n… But you have nothing to fear, the two of you are nothing alike, you might have his quirk but you’re still your own person.”

  S/n stayed quiet as he kept his eyes on the ground.

  “You should go home now, the others might worry where you’ve gone.”

  S/n sighed before, humming in agreement, he got up from the swing, stretching out his arms. He turned back to Shoto.

“Can you… not tell them that I was here?”

  “I don’t think-” Shoto stood up and glanced at S/n who seemed exhausted from the evening’s events.“I… alright, let’s go I’ll walk you home.”

  “Nah, It’s fine, it’s just 10 minutes away I’ll be fine,” S/n reassured.

  “It’s still quite late. I don’t think that it would be safe to let you go home alone.”

  “Oh cmon, I have a murderer’s quirk on my side, what can go wrong?”

  “S/n…”

  “I’m just joking Sho, trying to brighten the mood a bit, anyway I’ll be fine.”

  Before Shoto could disagree, S/n was already walking away and waving him off.

≿————-　❈　————-≾

  He walked on a nearly empty street, the cars around him rushing, while he kept his hooded head down on the road.. His mind became a little calmer, like an ocean after a storm everything was calming down. He was so focused on his thoughts that he didn’t notice a quiet figure following him like a cat. He stopped near a crosswalk, looking up and waiting for the light to change, before he suddenly got grabbed and pulled roughly, a hand covering his mouth, he didn’t have any time to respond, everything became fuzzy as he was fastly pulled into what looked like a portal and thrown out the other side.

He moved onwards before quickly getting up into his fighting stance, ready to use his quirk on whatever or whoever grabbed him. Yet he wasn’t met by his kidnapper, only by a white haired man, who had some sort of hand on his face. S/n stood there for a second, trying to figure out if he should make a run for it or attack.

The quiet man poured another glass of whiskey, lifting one of his fingers from it, careful not to dust it. After the glass was half full, he murmured something under his breath before taking off his mask and giving the kid a creepy grin.

  “Come, take a seat…” the man gestured to a nearby bar stool.

  “Who are you and what do you want?” S/n hesitantly asked while he looked around the room.

  The man stopped his drink halfway to his mouth.

  “Ah, where are my manners, I’m Shigaraki… and you are?”

  “I’m-”

  “I’m joking, I already know who you are, you’re Dabi's little creation…” Shigaraki grinned. “You know, as Endeavor's grandson, he didn’t do a good job of protecting you… I mean you were just wandering around like a lost puppy.”

Shigaraki once again gestured to the empty seat next to him.

  “It’s not nice to reject a drink ya know.” Shigaraki looked at him, his grin slowly being replaced by a frown “Anyway, you must be thinking, why are you here? Well, I have a very appealing proposition for you, a deal of some sorts.”

  “Let me guess, you want me to join your evil boy club, is that it?”

  “Don’t call it that, ” Shigaraki snarled. “But yes, I want you to join the league ... now I can tell you’re hesitant, but think about it you’ll be accepted here.”

  “Oh, really?”

  “Why do you think they kept it away from you for so long?”

  “How do-”

  “They’re afraid of you like everyone else will be when they learn the truth…”

  That will be you someday, and everyone will hate you.

  “Shut up.” S/n hissed.

  “What about your dear old dad? You wouldn’t want to disappoint him now would you?”

  “He’s no father of mine.”

  You’re just like him.

  Shigaraki spun around on the chair, drink still in hand.

  “You might deny it now, but you’ll be crawling back here in no time… it’s in your blood, the hero society is broken enough, help me make it better.”

  It’s in your blood…

  “Shut up.”

  S/n wanted to walk away, he tried blocking out every word thrown his way, his eyes desperately looking for the exit, Shigaraki only stared at him, wondering what the kid will do next when the door of the hideout suddenly opened and an irritated Dabi walked in the room “Shiggy I’m back from-” he spotted his son in the room and immediately hissed. “Why is he here?”

  “Oh, him? I just wanted to have a brief chat with the kid, welcome him into the family.” Shigaraki grinned, turning back to face the bar.

  “I’m sure you did.” Dabi scoffed, making his way to S/n, grabbing him by the color and dragging him away while he struggled.

  Before Dabi could open the door, he heard Shigaraki quietly mumble to him.

“Didn’t think you were so soft Dabi.”

  Dabi rolled his eyes while his son kicked him and babbled. “Let go of me you freak.”

≿————-　❈　————-≾

  Dabi followed S/n close behind, stealing glances at the unfamiliar place he was leading him to, before he suddenly stopped on some old bridge, not budging to go any further.

  “Why did you stop?” Dabi asked, looking around at the old factory.

  “I’m not going to show a villain where I live.” your son returned going near the rails and leaning on them. “So leave me the hell alone, alright?”

  Dabi took a deep breath in, feeling slightly irritated, yet he couldn’t contain the drip of proudness rising in his chest, the kid might be stupid but at least you taught him well he thought. He approached S/n calmly, not trying to start a fight, as he could see the kid was on edge before he leaned against the rails next to him.

  “Listen-”

  “I don’t want to hear it…” S/n responded immediately.

  A painfully awkward silence filled the air as the two stood under a poorly light street light looking at the slowly moving water.

“I hate you”  S/n murmured.

  “I know.”

  “So that’s it? You won’t say anything else?”

  “I don’t think it will change much even if I did,” Dabi said casually.“You look… a lot like Y/n… is she—how is she doing?” he added, gripping the railing a bit too tight for comfort.

  “She’s doing good, a lot better without you no doubt.” your son smeared.

≿————-　❈　————-≾

  Dabi's heart painfully ached, after so many years the memories of your warm touch still lingered in his mind. A few days later after he left the hospital he came back to your old burnt house, your future home as you used to call it, he walked around the ashed trying to calm down the stinging feeling in his chest, he could’ve gone back, hell part of him screamed and begged him to, but he was too much of a coward, running away seemed easier them facing his father and facing the reality of crimes he committed, going back to that house filled the shadows of the past. Part of him also knew that betraying the league never ended well for anyone, and no matter how far or how long he would run, they’d always catch up. So he decided to suffer in silence and finally do something else than be selfish with his life.

  He walked around in ruins of what was once his home, spotting a cabinet that was badly burnt but still standing in what seemed to be your bedroom. He carefully opened it and shivered, looking at the slightly burnt photo. He recalled the event like it was yesterday; it was your daughter’s sixth Christmas; she was babbling and rambling all day, while you both tried putting up Christmas decorations, Christmas music played in the background and the smell of cookies filled your small little home. At the end of the day, you pestered him into taking a photo with the three of you. He so desperately wanted to disapprove but your daughter’s puppy eyes convinced him otherwise. You printed it out, and kept it close, calling it a good luck charm, and here it was still okay. Dabis hands trembled as he reached for it, carefully wiping the ashes from the photo, trying not to make it dirtier than it already was, and put it in his pocket, walking away with his lost treasure.

≿————-　❈　————-≾

  “I’m glad,” he whispered, a sad smile plastered on his face, before looking back at his son. “Whatever you think of me, it wasn’t easy for me to just leave.”

  “Mhm, right, because you care so much.”

  “Watch it,” Dabi growled before softening up once more. “How’s… D/n?”

  Your son froze, looking back at him before mouthing. “Wait… you’re her father too?”

  Dabi didn’t say anything before pulling out and carefully showing him the photo.

S/n hesitantly took it and mouthed, looking over it. “Are you kidding me…?”

A revengeful thought came to him as he looked it over, still trying to comprehend it. He could see this little picture meant a lot to the poor villain who was carefully observing him, anytime S/n would move it, he could see him grow a bit on edge. Yet he took pity on the monster standing near him and shoved it back into his hand.

  “Well, you can be happy then, she doesn’t remember you,” he murmured, returning his hand on the railing.

  Dabi froze, giving him a doubting look.

“Yeah, she has some sort of traumatic amnesia or so I’ve heard.”

  “Amnesia… what happened?”

  “I don’t know I wasn’t told much,” S/n remarked. “But hey now you have one less burden to worry about, don’t want to mess up your future plan.”

  “Is that why you think I left?” Dabi spoke, tightly gripping the photo which remained in his hand. “I did it to keep all of you safe and give you a good shot at life, not because you’re some burden.”

  “No, you left because you’re a coward, stop trying to justify it with some sacrificial bullshit.”

  “Listen here-”

≿————-　❈　————-≾

  Hawks has been flying around the city for almost 2 hours now, frantically searching every nick and cranny he could think of, he felt like ripping his feathers out, how did he not pick up the mirror breaking, how could he let S/n leave, or worse, maybe he was taken?

So many thoughts were rushing through his head as he finally allowed himself to breathe. He landed on a nearby rooftop pulling out his phone with intention of calling Endeavor to report the update, before he spotted a familiar figure on a bridge near an old factory, the bridge was on the brink of collapsing so no one bothered to light it up properly. Two figures were standing under a badly cleaned street light, which now began to frantically flicker.

Hawks quickly dialed Endeavor, explaining his suspicion and telling his location. Endeavor asked him to wait, not knowing if it could be a trap, but Hawks with a foggy mind and his protective instincts didn’t listen, he murmured a simple “see ya soon” and hung up the phone. He looked back in the direction of the bridge and let himself glide off the rooftop.

Dabi stopped talking when he saw Hawks approach them, he only looked at S/n, stuffing the photo back into his pocket, and mumbled. “Looks like our time is up.” before S/n was fastly carried by Hawks feathers away from the dangerously close villain.

Hawks landed near S/n, surprising him as he frantically searched for any kind of injuries.

  “You okay kid?” he looked back at Dabi with a nasty look. “He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

  S/n pushed himself out of Hawks grasp. “I’m fine.”

  Hawks looked at him with sadness and guilt in his eyes, which turned into fury and hatred when they fell on Dabi, who was now casually leaning on the bridge railing. Hawks pulled away from S/n and approached Dabi with a feather blade in hand and pointed it at his throat.

  “Why did you take him?” Hawks barked, trying to search Dabi's cold demeanor for any kind of tricks.

  “I didn’t take shit, he was the one that found me.”

  Hawks looked back at S/n, who only looked away with guilt running across his face. Hawks gave him a disappointing glare before turning back at Dabi, who was unfaced with the deadly weapon pointed at his throat.

“I know what you’re trying to do.”

  Dabi cocked his eyebrows. “Do you now?” he jeered.

  “S/n doesn’t need a screw up like you for a father nor does he need your baggage, leave him be.”

  “Playing the father role well I see,” Dabi responded ignoring Hawks’ sudden outburst.

  “I couldn’t let a child be fathered by a scoundrel like you, now could I?”

  How Dabi wanted to tear down the oversized chicken limb from limb, finally take his revenge for ruining his family, for taking you away from him. His hands were beginning to itch and beg him to give in to his little temptation. He looked past Hawks at his son, god he looked just like you , his mind replayed your voice trying to calm him down as the temptation quietly disappeared into a pile of mush.

Dabi furrowed his eyebrows, turning around from the confrontation, and stepped back.

“I don’t have time for this.” He stoically stated, trying to hold back any kind of resentment towards Hawks.

  “Running away like always?” Hawks remarked, getting no response from the grim figure who slithered away in defeat.

  After he disappeared from view, Hawks turned back to S/n, who was standing nearby, tapping his feet nervously. Hawks approached him, throwing his jacket over the boys shoulders, and growled.

“We’re going home.”

≿————-　❈　————-≾

  You were pacing around the living room, phone in hand, waiting for any news on S/n whereabouts, when suddenly the front door opened up. You rushed to the door.

  “Did you—Angel hey are you okay? You’re not hurt, right?” you blubbered, scanning his face for any cuts or bruises.

  “How’s your hand?”

  “It’s fine, mom,” he responded shamefully, looking at the ground.

  “You really scared me sweetheart… where were you?” you hugged him tightly, massaging his back, and mouthed a quiet “thank you” to the heroes patiently standing nearby.

  “I don’t want to talk about it… can I go now? I’m really tired,” he mumbled, pushing you away.

  “I…”

  “Good night.” Your son said as he walked off to his room, quietly closing the door behind him.

You looked back at Endeavor and Hawks, who moved over to the couch.

  “What happened? Where did you find him?”

  “He was with Dabi.”

  “Dabi… what? Why? Did he kidnap him?”

  “No, it seems the kid found him first.” Endeavor tried calming you down.

  “Why would he-”

  “We’re not sure...but right now we should all go rest it’s been a tough night.” Endeavor stated.

  Hawks stood up and got ready to head to S/n room to give him the speech he thought of in the car before Endeavor stopped him.

“I’ll talk to him, you go rest.” He looked back at you, nodding to Hawks, who hesitantly took a seat next to you, wrapping one of his wings around you, slowly massaging your back.

≿————-　❈　————-≾

  Endeavor approached the door and knocked a few times, not hearing a response he pressed on the handle and the unlocked door opened with ease.

He stepped inside closing the door behind him, spotting your son, laying in his bed with his back turned, as he was slightly shaking behind the covers, clearly trying to calm himself down.

Endeavor sighted, not bothering to turn on the light, and sat beside him. He sat there for a while, his mind racing with all the things he wanted to say, or should’ve said, yet nothing came up.

  “You won’t be going to U.A.” he finally stated.

  Your son froze, and quickly sat back up, now facing Endeavor. “You can’t do that.”

  “I already called the school.”

  Your son ran his hand through his hair trying to come up with a valid argument.

“I also think that you should stay homeschooled for a while, seeing as there is a high chance of probability that the league knows you exist.”

“I know you worked hard, but your safety is far more important,” he added tapping S/n gently on the shoulder.

  Your son was too tired to answer but gave Endeavor a little nod.

  “Good, now get some sleep.” Endeavor said as he stood up from the bedside. He walked over to the door and looked back with a serious gaze.

“Don’t run away again, am I understood?”

  “Yes sir” your son responded letting his head fall onto the comfortable pillow.

  “Good.” Endeavor muttered closing the door behind him.

≿————-　❈　————-≾

It’s been almost a week and your patience was starting to run out, six days with only blunt responses from your son, him denying to eat your food or even come out of his room, and tonight you decided enough is enough and walked over to your son’s room with Hawks following close behind.

You turned back to him, trying to justify your sudden outburst. “I just want to see if he’s doing alright…”

  “I’ll go with you,” he reassured, giving your hand a light squeeze.

  You gave him a thankful nod before gently pressing on the handle and cracking the door open. Your son was sitting on his bed, with his earphones on, listening to something, paying no mind to your sudden entrance. His cheerful demeanor now became grim, dark circles under his eyes were too big for comfort, his bandage hand now bare.

Hawks hand fell on your shoulder as he gave you an encouraging glance. You took a deep breath in, before approaching his bedside and sitting next to him. Your son immediately looked up to you and Hawks who was leaning against a nearby wall, looking at him with his soft eyes. S/n took off his headphones and mumbled. “Please leave, I really don’t want to talk to any of you.”

“It’s been a week, kid, you can’t just keep ignoring us like this.” Hawks lilted.

  “Honey…” you tried reaching for his hand but he pulled away instantly. “I know--it's hard and I shouldn’t have kept something like that from you… and I’m deeply sorry.”

  “Good to know, the doors right there you can leave now.” your son jeered.

  “Can you at least come out of your room and eat something? I don’t like when you hurt yourself like this,” you said, once again reaching out to him.

  “Don’t touch me,” he said, pulling away. “You kept it from D/n as well didn’t you?”

  “D/n… her situation is different from yours…”

  “How?” he asked, not sparing you a glance.

  “She knew who he was… but after your d—Dabi left she couldn’t handle it, so her brain locked him out of her memory,” you explained in a simple manner.

  “And you let her leave just like that... “ your son scoffed as he got off from the bed. “Were you going to do the same with me?”

  “We-”

  “You know what, don’t answer that… I don’t think it’s good for me to hang around you two right now.”

  Your son walked towards the door but Hawks moved, blocking it. “You need to calm down, kid.”

  “Get out of my way Hawks.” your son warned, his sleep deprived, and angered mind getting the best of him.

  “You need to stop throwing tantrums and listen-”

  Hawks was interrupted by a loud explosion, he felt like he was falling before he hit something hard, his ears began to ring, he felt limb trying to gasp for air and he desperately fought to keep his eyes open as he felt warm like wood liquid falling down his face. He could see you desperately run to him, tripping over the fallen door, your soft touch masking the terrible pain he felt, he slowly reached for your cheek, accidentally smearing it with his blood, trying to wipe away your tears that wouldn’t stop coming.

He slowly shifted trying to spot the boy he carefully tried to father throughout his life, only to see him, standing there in the smoke of a now destroyed corridor, dark smoke surrounding him, as his sight got worse he could swear the little boy turn into a monstrous shadowy figure, who was now darting away. Hawks tried reaching out to him but he seemed to be getting further and further away by the second, he mumbled something under his breath as he let his body and mind succumb to the dark slumber he so craved.

[cellophanejpeg]

serendipity

pairing: Marcus Pike x female!reader

summary: You’ve never been one to believe in luck, but when you get to know your handsome neighbor, something makes you change your beliefs.

warnings: tw blood, gunshot wounds, medical inaccuracies, mentions of sex (or lack thereof), one (1) line from Ratched (i couldn’t help it), also fluff and a sm**ch

word count: 3.7k

series masterlist | general masterlist

You’ve never believed things happened for a certain reason. Several failed relationships taught you that things happen because simply they happen. There’s not always a meaning hidden behind, or a lesson to be learned. Sometimes, they do. Most times, they don’t. And that’s okay with you.

Lady Luck isn’t always by your side and you’ve gotten used to it, even now as you try to push a loveseat through the door of your new apartment. It’s early in the morning and you didn’t want to waste time moving your things to the new place, given that you have a shift in the hospital this afternoon. You’re exhausted already, and it’s not even nine in the morning. Maybe you’ve underestimated the weight of a loveseat. During your struggle, you don't notice you're blocking the way in the hallway until you hear someone clear their throat. The sound makes you jump and you quickly look up to find a very handsome man staring at you. Heat creeps on your neck and cheeks immediately.

“Do you need help with that?” He asks, gesturing to the loveseat.

You usually don't accept help from strangers, – no matter how handsome they are – but right now, you don't even think about refusing, the sweat down your back reminding you that this is only the start of a very busy day with moving.

"Please," you answer and watch him place his travel mug on the floor and move to help you push the loveseat into your new apartment.

"Where do you want it to be?" He asks, his raspy voice sending shivers on your skin. You give him the directions, pointing to a corner in the living room and tell him you plan to leave it there.

"Thank you." You sigh, already worn out by the physical labor.

He laughs softly and lets out a breath. "No problem. I’m Marcus."

You give him your name with a nod. The smile he gives you is breathtaking and you have to look away or he’d catch you staring.

"You need help with anything else?" He puts his hands on his hips, letting out a small sigh.

"Oh, no, that's okay!" you quickly answer, shaking your head. "I see you're off to work. I won't hold you any longer."

“Oh, don’t worry about it.” He smiles at you. Your cheeks warm under his gaze and you smile shyly at him. “If you need anything, I’ll be in the 44.”

“Thank you.”

You watch him leave with a smile on your face and your heart hammering inside your ribcage.

…

Your hands still shake as you wash them, watching the diluted blood go down the drain of the sink. His eyes are still plastered in your mind, those chocolate colored orbits full of fear that almost made you hesitate.

“Marcus stay with me, okay? Don’t close your eyes.” Your own voice echoes inside your head over and over and the image of him covered in his own blood won’t leave you alone as you wash his blood from your hands.

“Hey.” A soft voice startles you and you jump, looking at your coworker, Anne, through the mirror. “You’re gonna hurt yourself if you wash your hands harder.”

You look at your now clean hands and blink, turning the faucet off. You could swear they were still covered in blood. Letting out a shaky breath, you move to dry your hands with paper towels.

“You know him, don’t you?” She asks when you don’t say anything. “The guy who got shot?”

“Yeah.” You breathe out. “He’s my neighbor.”

It’s not every day that chaos happens in the emergency room, despite what people think, so you’re not really used to it yet. When the time comes, you do your best as a nurse to help people and do your job.

But when you saw Marcus being wheeled in, something inside almost made you stop. You almost didn’t know what to do, almost stopped in your tracks, and panicked as soon as you realized it was him, with a gunshot wound and bleeding badly. Then, your instincts kicked in and you acted fast, trying to stop the bleeding before a doctor came. He kept looking at you with those eyes, panic and fear in them, and kept talking to him, trying to make him stay awake. You managed to stop the bleeding and he tried to speak, reaching for you, as they rushed him to the OR.

You barely registered the brush of his hand to yours as they wheeled him away, his eyes fixated on you until he was out of sight.

“Oh,” Anne pulls you out of your own thoughts and gives you a malicious look. “You and him…?”

“What?” You frown at her as you leave the bathroom. “I just met him, what kind of person do you think I am?”

“A sexually frustrated one, who needs to get laid.” She starts walking by your side.

You stop walking and look at her, eyebrows raised in surprise. “Wow.” You shake your head and head to the ER again. “I knew I shouldn’t have told you.”

Anne is the first friend you’ve made when you were hired to work at the hospital and you made the mistake to tell her the last time you’ve been with someone was over three years ago. Now she won’t stop bugging you about it.

“No, wait, sorry!” She tried to fix it, running after you. “I just thought– I’m sorry, I–” She sighs. “It’s just the way you looked at him…”

You frown. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugs. “It was just a look. He looked at you the same way and I thought… You also knew his name and he said yours…”

“He said my name?” You widen your eyes.

“Yeah, didn’t you hear?”

Shaking your head, the line between your brows deepens. There’s something about Marcus, something you can’t put a name on it, that keeps tugging on you. You decide to ignore it and go on with your day, but he never leaves your mind.

Anne is the one who informs you that Marcus is stable, hours after he came in. Alive. You visibly relax at the words, earning a knowing look from her. You don’t talk to her for the rest of the day, not because you’re upset, but because you were busy during your shift. When she’s about to leave, she touches your shoulder and whispers:

“Room 117.”

You don’t need to ask what she’s talking about. But maybe she knows you better than you thought.

It’s not until your shift is over that you decide to follow her unspoken advice. Gathering your things, you shoulder your purse and walk to the room in question before you can change your mind. The nurses in the ward are quite nice and they let you in the room, saying Marcus has been in and out of sleep all day. Some friends had come to visit and left him things, but now he was alone. So they let you sneak in for a few minutes.

When you enter the room, he’s asleep. He looks peaceful, rested. Different from when you saw him earlier. You’re tempted to touch his face or hold his hand, but you refrain from doing that and check the IV instead.

“I knew I wasn’t hallucinating.” His voice is rough, tired, and laced with sleep. You look at him to see his tired eyes, his gaze soft on you. “Knew it was you…”

Sighing, you offer him a smile. “Just wanted to see how you were doing.”

“I didn’t know you were a nurse.” He smiles at you. It must be the drugs, but the smile is honest, wide. It makes your stomach churn in pleasure.

“You sound disappointed,” You answer, sitting on the chair beside the bed.

“I’m not.” Marcus huffs a laugh and then grimaces, hugging his torso with one arm. You grimace too, touching his arm and pulling it gently from the wound.

“Try not to… touch it.” Your voice is gentle as you place his arm by his side, your fingers brush against his warm skin.

He looks at you and there’s something different in his eyes. A light in them. A flash of the memory of him covered in blood appears in your mind and you have to look away, letting out a deep sigh.

“They told me…” He starts when the silence stretches out. “They told me if a nurse hadn’t stopped the bleeding, I wouldn’t…”

When Marcus trails off, you look back at him and your eyes meet his, holding his gaze surprised.

“Was it you?” He whispers, his fingers twitching, wanting to touch your hand. You nod in silence but don't speak, deciding to leave the details out. “Thank you.”

“Just doing my job,” You say quietly.

“You saved my life.” He insists.

You pause for a moment, holding his gaze before tearing it away from him as you speak.

“You save a life, you’re a hero. You save a hundred, you’re a nurse.”

“Who told you that?” He laughs again.

“It’s just common sense.” You shrug at him, smiling too.

“Well, common sense can go fuck itself.” He watches as you snort a laugh. “You saved my fucking life, and I am grateful.”

The smile you give him is genuine and honest, and it makes you feel like a teenager looking at her school crush. You stare at each other for a moment before you clear your throat and stand up.

“I should go.”

“Will you come by tomorrow?” He asks before you could say anything else. You pause to look at him, feeling your heart skip a beat. You wonder, once again, if it’s because of the drugs and if he’ll change his mind once they’re not in his system anymore. But you nod anyway and tell him you’ll try.

…

Marcus ended up staying at the hospital one more night. You went to visit him after your shift again and told him about your day and he revealed he was an FBI Agent and got shot during a task force. He was as happy to see you as he was the night before. After that, when you arrived at the ward to visit him again, the nurses said he was sent home that morning. You couldn’t stop thinking about him the entire day and the feeling of butterflies in your stomach wouldn’t leave you alone. That night, you knocked on his door to see if he needed anything.

“If I knew, I could have brought you home,” You told him, fidgeting with your keys nervously.

“Don’t worry.” He smiled. “I had my partner pick me up.”

“Oh.” The smile falls from your face and embarrassment takes over you. “I-I didn’t know you had a partner.”

Marcus huffed a laugh and shook his head. “My work partner, I mean.”

“Oh,” You laughed at yourself, feeling your cheeks heating up. “Sorry, I forgot you were a federal agent.”

He laughed with you, but never at you. Eyeing the blush on your cheeks, he thought you were adorable, getting all flustered because of him.

“I wanted to tell you I was home, but I didn’t have your number,” He said, nonchalantly, after a small pause.

“Don’t worry about it, I never use my phone at work anyway.” You shook your head and he raised his brows, nodding at you. Marcus waited for the penny to drop. “D-do you want it? My number…” Before he could answer, you tripped over your words, stuttering to explain. “For-for emergencies, o-of course.”

“I’d love it.” He gave you one of those wide smiles you liked so much.

It’s funny to think about how a gunshot wound made you two get closer. You’ve been checking on him every night for the past three weeks, helping him change the bandage and cleaning the wound. He recovered quickly and was past the point where he needed help, but you didn’t mention it and neither did he. You kept showing up even after he was healed and fine.

You can't deny the tension and the feelings that come to light when you're with him. It's like you're eager to see him everyday, and every minute you're not with him is like torture. You get all happy and excited when your shift ends because you know you'll get to see him. You don't know if he feels the same, that's why you don't dare to breathe a word of it to him.

“I’d like to take you out some time,” He says, pulling you out of your thoughts. You look up from where you’re washing your hands at his kitchen sink and feel your cheeks warm. He smiles at you as he leans on the door frame of his kitchen. “You know,” He says quickly. “To thank you for the help. I happen to know a nice restaurant around the corner…”

Biting a smile down, you reach to turn the faucet off, drying your hands on a dishtowel. “Is it fancy?”

“A little.” He frowns his lips and then shrugs. “Not too much. Don’t wanna go overboard on the first date.”

“Ah, so it’s a date?” You smile at him, watching as he blushes.

“If-if you want to…”

You approach him until you're close enough to feel the warmth of his body. “I’d love to.”

Marcus smiles at you and then clears his throat, looking away from you. He lets out a deep sigh and smiles down at you.

“Are you free tomorrow?” He asks. For a moment his eyes stare at your lips and you suppress a smile.

“Tomorrow?!” You exclaim, raising your eyebrows.

“Or is that too soon?” His eyes shift from soft to worried. “We can go on the weekend–”

“Tomorrow is perfect.” You interrupt him, nodding.

Marcus sighs again and you both stare at each in silence for a moment. Your heart skips a beat when you realize he’s looking at your lips again.

“Is it weird that I want to skip dinner and kiss you right now?” He says, voice low and quiet like you’re not the only person in the room. You feel like your heart is going to burst, hammering inside your chest, your cheeks burning intensely... Marcus realizes he maybe was out of line and starts apologizing. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean– I mean, I did mean, but– fuck, I–”

“It’s not weird.” You laugh. “But… Pay me dinner first, and then maybe you can kiss me.”

Marcus laughs and then nods.

“Deal.”

…

“Hey,” Marcus breathes when you open the door. He takes your form and you feel shy under his gaze. You’re wearing a black glittery bodycon dress that compliments your curves and black heels. “Wow.”

“Too much for a first date?” You playfully grimace at his reaction.

“No, no, no,” He’s quick to respond. “You look… Amazing.”

Biting your lower lips, you nod. “You too.”

Marcus frowns and looks down at his own clothes, a simple black suit. “Really?”

“Yeah,” You say softly, closing the door and locking it.

“But you see me in a suit almost everyday.”

“I know.” Turning your body to face him again, you see the redness on his cheeks and smile widely.

Both of you walk side by side in the streets, since the restaurant is around the corner, just like Marcus said. Your hand brushes occasionally against his and you feel the urge to touch him all of a sudden. Your stomach bubbles with anxiety, the good kind of anxiety that makes you eager for something. There’s a bit of nervousness in your chest as you sit down in front of him, and try to concentrate on the menu.

“So, do you bring all your neighbors here?” You ask, sipping your wine.

“Just the ones that save my life.” He shrugs, a teasing smile on his face. A soft laugh leaves your lips. “Did you always want to be a nurse?”

“Yeah.” You nod. “Since I was a kid. I broke my arm once and ended up in the hospital.” A smile spreads on your face. “There was this nurse in the ER and… She was really kind to me. Ever since I just knew I– wanted to be like her.”

“So, you like helping people?”

“I do.” You pause and smile at him as he looks at you with adoring eyes. Your heart skips a beat. “And you? Did you always want to be a federal agent?”

Marcus lets out a laugh and shakes his head. “It was never in my plans. I actually went to art school.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I was going to be a teacher, but…” He sighs. “Other things got in the way.”

“Other things?” You look at him, curious.

“Yeah.” He doesn’t explain and you don’t press him. “But I’m glad I chose this career.”

“Oh, so you like catching art thieves, huh?”

“Nah, it can get boring pretty quick.” Marcus shrugs, tilting his head. “But it led me to you, so…”

Rolling your eyes, you scoff at him and shake your head.

“Sorry.” He laughs. “Was that too corny?”

“Yes, it was!” You laugh, smiling at him. He laughs with you, taking his glass of wine and bringing it to his lips.

“I haven’t done the date thing in a while, please go easy on me.”

The confession makes you pause and look at him for a moment. “You’re kidding me.”

Marcus lets out a laugh and nods. “Two years.”

“I don’t believe you,” you say, smiling.

“Why not?” His voice is laced with laughter and happiness and it makes you smile even more.

“I mean, you’re so nice and… handsome and,” you try to ignore the heat creeping on your neck. “I’m just surprised you’re not married yet.”

And just like that, Marcus’s smile falls from his face and your heart drops. His demeanor changes and, suddenly, he’s not very receptive anymore. He tries to hide the change of mood but you pick it up fast and sigh quietly.

“Oh, shit.” You mumble, grimacing at him.

“Don’t worry about it.” Marcus laughs softly, giving you a tight smile. “It’s okay.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry.”

“Hey, don’t worry.” He assures with a soft voice and then hesitates. “Yeah, I, uh– I was married once.” A pause hangs in the air as you nod at him, encouraging him to continue. “A-and then, there was someone, but… She chose someone else.”

You can see the insecurity in his eyes when he looks away, feeling your heart clench at the thought. Marcus is an amazing man, caring and kind, why would someone ever think of leaving him?

“I’m sorry about that,” you tell him, reaching for his hand over the table. His skin is warm and rough under your fingers and you try to ignore the pleasant butterflies in your stomach. “For what’s worth, I think they were fools. No one in their sane mind would–”

Marcus raises his eyebrows when you interrupt yourself, your face on fire. You clear your throat as you start to pull away from him, but he squeezes your hand, stopping you. The rough pads of his fingertips press against your skin and you swear you feel a wave of electricity running through your veins.

“What were you going to say?” He asks softly.

Laughing softly, you hesitate. “I, uh– I just don’t see why s-someone in their sane mind would–” You exhale shakily. “Leave you. You-you just seem like a nice guy, that’s all…”

He gives you a half-smile, mesmerized by you.

“You’re adorable.” He lets it escape and squeezes his eyes shut, mentally cursing himself. You laugh softly, looking away from him and feeling your cheeks warm.

“I’m so–”

“Don’t apologize.” You interrupt, smiling at him. “I kinda like it.”

A smile splits his features and you sigh. When the food arrives, you both eat and talk like you’re old friends. With Marcus, it’s easy to talk and get to know each other. He makes you strangely comfortable, which is something you’ve never felt on a first date. You feel peaceful, despite the initial jitters you felt earlier.

“Not bad for a first date, huh?” He says, once you both are back at your doorstep.

“The best first date, actually,” you tell him, smiling. “I had a great time, Marcus. Thank you.”

"You're welcome," he says softly. He's close to you, his body almost touching yours. His eyes are looking deeply into yours like he knows all of your secrets and you fight the urge to look away. You don't feel shy anymore, growing used to his loving gaze on you.

"Are you gonna kiss me, or what?" You whisper quietly, and Marcus laughs, the sound of it echoing in the hallway.

"Is that okay?" He asks as he leans in, brushing his nose to yours.

"Yeah."

Marcus closes the gap between you two, pressing his lips gently on yours. Butterflies flip in your stomach and your breath gets caught in your throat. Your heart speeds up as you cup his cheek, his beard tickling the palm of your hand. It's soft and sweet and gentle, and it's nothing like you've felt before.

When he pulls away, his lips mere centimeters from yours, he lets out a shaky breath, smiling.

"I want to take you out again," he whispers softly, eyes still closed. "I'd really like to get to know you better."

A soft breath leaves your lips as you let your hand fall to your side. He waits patiently, ready to tell you it's okay to say no, but your answer surprises him.

"I know a nice drive-in theater we could go." You smile when you see the look on his face. "Let me take you."

He nods, brushing his knuckles on your cheeks. "Next Friday?"

You nod. "It's a date, then."

Marcus laughs and shakes his head as you turn around to unlock your door. The butterflies in your stomach give you a pleasant sensation as you enter your apartment, smiling like an idiot.

Maybe Lady Luck is by your side after all.

__

@goldafterglow​ @forever-rogue​ @bestintheparsec​ @murdermewithbooks​ @hiscyarika​ @haildoodles-writing​ @aerynwrites​ @yespolkadotkitty​ @adikaofmandalore​ @theocatkov​

[karasunology]

❝ WHY ARE YOU SO JEALOUS?❞ with BOKUTO KOUTARO !

✎ . . . could i request from the prompt list no. 8 ("why are you so jealous?) with bokuto. where bokuto (your best friend for years now) is bothered by you showing interest in akaashi (you like akaashi basically).

❝ ― submitted by @momoinot <33 ❞

-ˏˋ ➶ character(s) ━ akaashi keiji & bokuto koutaro <3

-ˏˋ ✉️ REQUESTS ARE ALWAYS OPEN.

⇣ please read the RULES before requesting.

✎ . . . PROMPT LIST YOU COULD REQUEST FROM. PROMPT LIST O1 | PROMPT LIST O2 | PROMPT LIST O3

[ BEFORE REQUESTING, PLEASE SPECIFY WHAT PROMPT LIST YOU REQUESTED FROM. ]

[ ♡ ] THIS WAS A LONG ONE, wrote this a few days ago so i think it's time for it to shine as a little 500 followers special, thank you all once again for all the congratulations !! <33

BOKUTO KOUTARO.

➜ you first met bokuto under the gym lights; it was when he was about to practice his spikes for a bit more but the boys' gym was closed earlier than he expected, so he decided to use the other gym where the girls' gym resided ─ finding himself staring at you trying to get the ball up with your fingers

➜ accidentally setting the ball with a slippy swerve, it's direction did a 180° as it heads to a different direction where you were supposed to send to, his direction actually.

➜ quick to noticed the ball coming to him, he received it with ease as he sends it back to you, expecting you to stop it with your hands, but instead you continued to pass the ball back to him.

“ isn't it too late for you to still be at school? ” he questioned, as he received the ball, sending it your way as you did the same.

“ well look who's talking, ” you playfully scoffed, your eyes never leaving the ball.

“ you're right, i'm bokuto by the way! future ace of fukurodani. ” you rose an eyebrow at him, amused by his honestly. wasn't fukurodani a powerhouse? you wondered.

“ really? good for you i guess, i haven't even though of a high school yet. ” you continued to pass it to him, but you decided to test his speed as you directed it to a different direction from where he was.

“ y/n, by the way. ” you spoke once again when he sucessfully received it but with the side of his head, laughing while you tried to get it up back for him.

“ huh, maybe you should join me in fukurodani! they also have a volleyball club for girls too. ” he grinned, as he managed to send the ball flying off a different direction with his unexpected spike, with you failing to get it up ─ falling down to the ground while scratching your knee simultaneously.

“ hey, hey, he ─ aGH are YOU ALRIGHT ??” he interrupted himself as he saw the small wound in your knee.

➜ he was shockingly fast to understand the situation, running out the gym doors, leaving you to wonder where tf this boy went.

➜ but your question was soon answered when a sweaty bokuto came back with an emergency kit for injuries.

➜ kneeling down to your level, he examined the wound as he first disinfected it.

“ i'm so sorry, i never meant to make you fall and scrape your knee. ” he profously apologized as he didn't realized how kinda rough he was with disinfecting your wound, bringing him back to reality when you hissed in pain.

“ oH NO I'M SO SORRY PLEASE DON'T DIE ─ ”

➜ your weird tight-knit friendship started off with that, and before you even knew it you guys were inseperable, with you also coming along with him to fukurodani.

➜ he was a good best friend, would always but if not, every other day, have lunch with you. visits your house every week, with both your parents already adoring him their heart was filled to the brim with their love for him. always somehow, and surprisingly good at advices and would always help you out with personal problems.

➜ though he had other best friends, you were the only female best friend he has, sometimes rubbing the people the wrong way as most initially got the impression of you guys being a thing.

➜ if i said that you didn't develope a small crush on him before, i would have been lying.

➜ it first appeared in your first year of high school, with your hormones rising ─ you dismissed it as a small crush, thinking that it was the hormones acting up because he was your only close guy best friend.

➜ and just like you expected, it went away after a few months and by second year you decided to start dating and seeing other people ─ sadly making you drift away a bit from bokuto as both of you were busy with other things.

➜ but what you didn't expect was to have it reappear on your third year of high school, but maybe this time you didn't want it to go away.

➜ the pounding in your heart, it's lovesick rhythm remained echoing through the most unfortunate times where you didn't want them to appear.

➜ like that one time where you were eating lunch with him and akaashi & he just fucking  l i c k s  his lips

➜ you're like : OH I'LL GIVE YOU A REASON TO LICK YOUR LIPS

➜ um ,, chile😳

➜ speaking of akaashi, you were actually interested in him the first time bokuto has mentioned him, saying how he was a pretty boy and how good he was at remaining calm and collected ─ needless to say, you were quite interested in him.

➜ and you even asked bokuto for his number, unaware of his change in demeanor, flicking his gaze away from yours as he merely just nodded at your request.

➜ but despite how small that reaction was, it impacted his whole behaviour towards you; the way he would always try and leave the both of you together, saying that he forgot his lunch and he wasn't hungry etc. but it just felt forced, forced in a way that while pushing both you and akaashi together ─ it was as if bokuto was pushing away his feelings for you along with it.

➜ you and akaashi went on a small date of sort, suggested by bokuto once again. but after getting to knew each other a bit more, he seemed more like a little brother to you at most.

➜ you guys quit attempting to see each other because it just felt too unnatural for the both of you, but your friendship with him grew. though, it left a different impression on bokuto.

➜ in the middle of whatever was going on with the three of you, you once again drifited away from him. but this time, it was intentional.

➜ akaashi noticed how the both of you would often try and avoid topics about each other ans would now barely be seen with each other; unlike before, when you were always seen together ─ and it felt weird, and once again unnatural. for everyone, and not just for the three of you.

➜ akaashi, being so tired of seeing the both of you being dumb and in despair and actually being practical, he decided to talk to bokuto about it.

➜ and by the time he got bokuto to listen to him, the ace was already a pouty mess knowing fully well that akaashi wasn't lying.

“ okay, okay, fine; i'll go talk to her. ” bokuto grumbled as he finally complied.

“ promise? ” akaashi narrowed his eyes at his captain.

“ prom, ” bokuto replied.

“ prom . . ? ” he jerked his eyebrow up, trying to prepare himself on what bokuto was going to say.

“ half a promise ─ ”

“ ─ bokuto-san. ” the authoritive and premonition in the usual calm setter's voice sent shivers crawl up the third year's spine.

“ alright, ” bokuto's hair deflaited

“ i saw her in the girls' volleyball club gym by the way. ” and before the second year could give his goodluck to him, the captain was already heading to where the other gym was located

➜ it was getting late already, since both teams were practicing later than usual for the upcoming nationals; and bokuto once again saw you under the gym lights.

➜ as he found himself staring at you trying to get the ball up with your fingers as you played alone in the squeaking gym floors.

➜ and just like before, you set a 180° from where it was supposed to go ─ swerving it to his direction as he got it up easily back to you.

➜ expecting you to spike it back at him for avoiding you; you instead sent it back towards him.

➜ a weird sense of deja vu overwhelming him

“ you're still bad at setting i see. ”

“ isn't it too late for you to be here, bokuto? ” you asked, as you received the ball he returned back to you.

“ we're practicing for nationals. ” he answered

“ oh, right. ” the awkward tension settled down between the two of you.

➜ and before you knew it, you set a ball away from where he was located as he chased back the ball before accidentally and unconciously spiking at you which hit you hard.

➜ acting from his instincts, he went to get packed ice from the nurse's office near the gym. before settling down in the ground as he kneeled to your body sitting down on the floor.

“ tell me where does it hurt? ” you pointed at the obvious growing bump in your head.

“ ah, shit ─ i'm so sorry. ” he said as he cooled your bump.

“ for avoiding me or for accidentally hitting me . . ? ” you joked, laughing before wincing at the pain from your head.

➜ bokuto blinked his eyes trying to process what you just said as he once again, turned ito a flustered apologizing mess and awfully guilty.

“ both, ” he squinted his eyes, glaring at the swelling bump in your head.

“ it's just that, you were hanging around akaashi too much and i guess ─ ”

“ ─ excuse me? but you were the one that keeps setting us up and leaving us alone ! ” you nearly shouted at him

“ w ─ well, you did say you were interested in him. ”

➜ BB BOY WAS LIKE : i'm sowrry 🥺👉👈😔

“ why are you so jealous anyway? you're still my best friend and nothing could change that. ” as much as it hurts you.

“ but that's why! i don't wanna remain as just a best friend of yours i ─ ” he stopped himself, “ nevermind, i'm sorry i just ─ god i can't do anything right ─ ”

➜ you've gotten too annoyed with him, and just wanted to shut him tf up because now your thoughts are all jumbled up. but what better way to shut him up other than interrupting him with a kiss??

➜ the kiss was long, burning and too slow ─ conveying the mutual longing of each other through desperate lips, molding together. heated; in terms of pent up feelings and flustrations and getting too caught up for the moment.

➜ it was a breathtaking kiss, one that bokuto didn't wanna pull away from. but despite of his whiney, needy and desperate moans ─ you pulled away, panting.

“ you're . . . ” you started off, seeing how eager he was to go back to the kiss with a pout resting on his lips.

“ annoying. ” you went to get up from the floor, with bokuto standing as well; but your legs were jelly & along with the throbbing pain in the back of your head, made you fall right back into his arms.

“ am i really though? ”

[drethanramslay]

A funny thing called Fate- Prologue

Pairing: Bryce X MC (Aisha Khurrana)

Word Count: 2.8K words

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Warning: None really, just a little cursing

Author’s note: I had been listening to Strawberries and Cigarettes by Troye Sivan and that is actually the primary spark which led me to come up with this series. Shout out to @mvalentine and @anotherbeingsworld fo letting me bounce my crazy ideas <3

AHHH so it is finally here!! This is my first time writing Bryce so I hope I can do justice to this beautiful man. This starts with Aisha’s (MC) POV and like I said, there will be a time jump. It would be first person when I’m writing in the past and then it will shift to third person when I’m writing the present. I think i should stop my rambling and let’s go!!

Terms you need to know-

-Bhaiya: Brother in hindi

-Beta: Technically it means ‘son’ but in most Indian families its used like a term of endearment too

- AIIMS, Delhi: Stands for All India Institute of Medical Sciences. This is one of the best medical schools in the country and Only 100 people out of 200,000(or more) get in. So it is very cut throat.

10 years ago- Aisha's PoV 

(Age: 16)

I am done.

Done with all the drama, done with all the lies, done with all the manipulations and done with all the heartache.

And most of all, I was done with him- the infamous Bryce Lahela. 

The boy with the stupid long hair, the stupid signature smirk and the stupid charm. Those amber eyes which reminded you of the sand and sea and those lips on which an everlasting smile played used to be like a breath of fresh air. I always thought that he was so unique, but boy was I wrong. 

All boys are the same.

I really thought that jocks like him would be different huh? Can someone just hand me my clown shoes?

But luckily, I don't have to see his face ever again because for once, instead of making a mockery of my existence, life decided to give me something that I really wanted badly.

A chance to leave all of this in my past. A chance to start over again.

My dad had a better business opportunity back in Mumbai. I am an Indian and we lived in Delhi since the time I was born but we shifted to Mauii when I was in the ninth grade because of how demanding dad's job was getting

Bhaiya chose to stay back in Delhi because his engineering college was there and he enjoyed the hostel life way too much. And he had finally managed to get out of our toxic household so I really could not blame him.

So yeah.. that is how I ended up in Maui in the first place.

It was okay in ninth grade. I kept to myself and blended in with the shadows (because hello social anxiety!). But... Tenth grade changed everything.

It was one of the best and worst year of my life and I often wonder if I could ever get over this.

I am definitely sounding like one of those over-dramatic Indian soap operas my mom watches every night.

"Aisha? Are you ready? The car is here beta."

"Yes, Mama. I am coming!! Just packing up some stuff."

Breaking out of my reverie, I stuffed in my phone and other essentials into my carry bag. As I was zipping up my luggage, I yanked open my closet door to see if I left anything behind my eyes landed on the shoebox I had stuffed in the back of my closet.

I gulped and I felt tears well up in my eyes again. A part of me wanted to take it for it had all the trinkets of the good things in my relationship with Bryce but, another part of me knew that if I took it with me, I would never be able to move on and that would completely defeat the purpose of this fresh start I have been looking forward to.

So with a heavy heart, I looked away and shut the door of the closet, picked up my luggage and left.

As the Uber pulled out of the curb I stared out of the window, to look at the beaches I had come to love and hate.

I liked Maui, I really did but all that it was reduced was a place where I was humiliated and belittled.

And it was all his fault.

PRESENT

(Age: 27)

"Oh my god. I'm gonna late!!" Aisha screeched as she saw the time on her phone. She shoved the duvet off her and jumped out of bed. She tried running to the bathroom in her small closet-sized apartment but it just ended up with her stubbing her toe against the coffee table.

"Ow ow ow." She cursed as she hobbled into the washroom and got on with her daily chores. Her hand-eye coordination was already awful and add that she was sleep deprived just made the entire thing worse. Stumbling, tripping, cursing she managed to brush her teeth and hop into the shower. The burst of cold water managed to wake her up as she furiously washed.

Why did I have to move into a room under a busy staircase?! This is why bhaiya says- Do your research. She angrily thought to herself as she wiped herself rigorously and zipped open her suitcase, searching for her semi-formal clothes.

Grabbing a granola bar and her trusty thermos of coffee, she was on her way to Edenbrook.

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

As she entered the atrium, she was in complete awe. It looked big and majestic on the outside, with a clever mix of brick walls and the glass facade, making it look welcoming. Sunshine poured through the atrium as the various doctors and nurses worked around her, not giving mind to the clueless intern gawking.

"Hi, I'm Dr Ines Delarosa, a senior resident!! You look lost. Let me guess... the first day of residency?" A short woman in a doctor's coat walked up to her breaking Aisha from her awe, her aura full of happiness, rainbows and unicorns which made Aisha a little vary.

Is it normal to be this happy and energetic?

Aisha nodded hesitantly and the resident smiled a hundred-watt smile. "Great. You are gonna need a photo ID. Follow me, I will get you all set up." Wordlessly Aisha followed Ines, slinging her messenger bag over her shoulder, nervously playing with the strap.

It is going to be fine... Aisha breathed out as she entered a room with a white background and a camera before it. "Just step over here, in front of the camera and smile."

And waste my energy? No thanks.

She schooled her features to be as professional as she could and the flash of the camera went off. Aisha walked over the tangled wires and peeked at the screen. A serious face stared back at her, the lighting doing good to her brown skin. Her nose piercing caught light and her dark mahogany hair was tied up in a neat ponytail.

"Is it okay? Or do I need to retake the photo?"

"No, it is great! I like it. Thank you."

"Well I will just stick this on your ID.... and you are good to go!! I wish I looked that good in my ID." She said and cheerfully and once her eyes fell on the title a smile made its way on her face,

Dr Aisha Khurrana... It is real and it is true.

"My first day as a real doctor." she whistled lowly shaking her head as if she didn't believe it.

"I was in your shoes last year. Believe me, med school was nothing compared to this. Your three years of residency will be the toughest, most amazing year of your life!! But the first year as an intern will be the craziest of all."

As soon as the smile had graced her features, it slipped away and she nodded seriously. "I think I am ready for it. I have been dreaming and slogging my ass so that I could work in Edenbrook. Ever since I learnt that Ethan Ramsey worked here. His research basically pushed me to apply for med school."

Also, the fact that my parents can like shut up about me being worthless.

"That is great. I will just walk you to the locker room so that you can change into scrubs." Ines offered and Aisha gave her a small smile.

"So... Any advice?"

"Make friends..."

And I am out. She thought to herself. She always struggled with making friends and that is partly the reason why she would keep to herself all the time. Sure she did make a few gem of a friends in med school but if she had to choose between mingling with strangers and drowning, you know what she would choose.

"... with your interns, year senior residents, even your patients! Friends will get you through anything. And, uh, try to not annoy the Attendings! You do not want to get on your boss's bad side."

"Noted."

After changing she was just passing through the waiting room so that she could get to the orientation when she heard gasps from the seating area. A woman had collapsed on her seat and the people were crowding around her.

Her instincts kicked in and she ordered. "Give her space. Everybody step back! I'm a doctor."

She hurried over to the woman just as another doctor rushes in. He kneeled at her side and checked her pulse. "Pulse is weak. She's unresponsive." He looked up and his eyes landed on her.

"You Rookie. Get here."

"Right away doctor. Coming!" Aisha hurried over as the doctor lifted the fainted woman on to the nearby gurney.

"What was she coming in for? Did she fill out a form yet?"

"No, she'd just walked in."

The doctor's piercing blue eyes landed on her which made her straighten her back. "If we don't figure out what's wrong with her fast, she's going to die on this table. Rookie, check B.P."

Wrapping the blood pressure cuff around the unconscious woman's arm and she pumped the bulb, peering at the numbers.

"It's plummeting. She's hypotensive. We've gotta get fluids in her."

Aisha's eyes wandered over the woman's form, trying to search for more clues. Her eyes landed on the rapidly forming bruise on her elbow.

"Doctor... Look at this bruise. I think it's a sign that she is a haemophiliac."

The doctor replied in a gruff voice. "You think or you know?"

"I know."

"Good. Also can you see the way her fingertips are turning blue? It is a sign of low oxygen saturation in the blood. Take a closer listen to her lungs. Hurry."

She nodded assertively and slipped the resonator of the stethoscope over the ribs, straining to hear the diminishing whooshing of the lungs which made Aisha gulp in fear.

"Can't hear anything on the left side and the right side is struggling. She is going to suffocate at this rate." She spoke up , her voice struggling to stay calm but as she glanced at the older doctor, he seemed to be as cool as a cucumber.

"Nurse we have got a code blue." His authoritative voice boomed over as the nurses bustled around the gurney.

Taking the bag mask from the nurse, he secured it around the patient's mouth and gently pump air into her lungs.

"What do we do, Doctor? What's happening to her?" She asked as she noticed the reducing breath rate.

He looked up. "Consider all the clues. It's all there. You know this, Rookie."

Aisha closed her eyes and took a deep breath, realigning her focus, delving deep into her mind, analyzing the clues.

Hemophilia... low blood oxygen... no lung expansion on one side...

Her brown eyes snapped open as it struck her. "It's a haemothorax!"

A twinkle of approval flickered in the ocean eyes, which vanished as soon as it came. "Precisely. A blood vessel ruptured and is filling her pleural cavity..."

"... Blocking her lungs from expanding! That's why she can't breathe." Aisha completed the sentence.

Fuck.

"But we can't repair the blood vessel over here."

The older doctor's jaw clenched. "Then we will have to do a emergency thoracotomy to drain the cavity instead. Nurse!"

The nurse hustles around handing her a scalpel and a chest tube, her eyes widening in shock.

She gulped, her nervousness spiking as she sees the doctor lift the shirt of the patient, exposing the side of her rib cage.

"We need a local anaesthetic-"

The doctor interrupted her. "We're out of time and she is already unconscious. Do it now, or the woman's life is on you!!"

She gritted her teeth with determination. I am not loosing a patient on my first day.

She took a deep breath in an attempt to calm herself. It is just like anatomy class only... this isn't a cadaver but a real person.

But that statement, instead of calming her, it just caused the scalpel to shake in her hand.

The doctor reaches and encompasses her hand. "Hey... You can do this."

Aisha nods stabilizing herself and focusing solely on the older doctor's voice, before she looked down.

"There you go... Nice and easy."

Incision at the fifth intercostal space... anterior.. to the mid axillary line...

And when she was confident enough, she made the perfect incision, a trickle of red following the path of the scalpel.

"Now the tube."

She took and pushed it into the incision and with a spurt, blood started draining out of the chest cavity resulting in the patient to take a deep breath.

Holy shit I did that. I freaking did that.

In the daze of endorphins, she heard the doctor order her surgery, the nurses wheeling the gurney and the onlookers applauding.

She turned towards the attending, excitement pouring out of her in waves. "Doctor.. that was absolutely amazing!!"

It's was as if a switch flipped and the grumpier and sarcastic facade took place. "You're right. It is pretty amazing you didn't get her killed."

Aisha's jaw dropped.

"Wait, what?"

The doctor rambled off, pointing out her mistakes. "Your examination was slow and superficial. Your scalpel technique, amateur at best."

It took all her might to not scoff. 

Excuse me I graduated from AIIMS Delhi, thank you very much.

 Swallowing the dying need to go off she spoke in a professional tone. "Amateur? I'm sorry, doctor but it is my first day."

"Well, that is not an excuse you can use because if that patient would have died, the blood would have been on your hands..." He lifted the badge attached to her breast pocket scrutinizing on the surname.

"... Khurrana."

He tossed the id back to her, turned on his heels and walked away, leaving a steaming Aisha in her place.

"What a dick." She muttered under her breath.

"Yeah and I'm totally in love with him." A nurse appeared magically out of thin air near her, causing her to jump in surprise.

The kind eyed nurse just rolled his eyes and placed a hand on her shoulder which had Aisha bristling. "Don't worry about it, Dr Ramsey is like that to everybody."

Aisha's jaw dropped for the second time. "Wait... Dr. Ramsey as in Dr. Ethan Ramsey?!"

Shooting a knowing glance, he spoke up. "I take it, you're a fan?"

"He's only my medical hero and greatest inspiration. I've read all his research!" Aisha rushed off, horror and excitement rushing through her.

Oh my god I managed to piss of my one medical hero.. I'm such a dumbass.

Noticing the horror of her expression he gave a gentle smile. "On the bright side, you'll get plenty more chances to impress him."

She sighed and looked down to see that her scrubs were stained with blood.

First impression is last impression beta, always remember that. Her father's voice resonated in her mind.

"Dammit, I'm here for five minutes and I'm already a mess. I can't show up to orientation like this!"

"Don't sweat it. There are extras in the locker room. Come I will show you the way..."

She walked into the locker room, looking for her assigned locker. There was a crowd of half naked interns and after mumbling a couple of 'excuse me's', and rubbing shoulders (literally) she made it the end of the room.

As she turned she knocked into another woman in nothing but her undergarments.

"Uh...um.. okay then." Aisha stuttered as she felt the back of her neck heating up.

Thanks to my brown skin no one can see me getting flustered.

"What? See something you like?" She asked cheekily in an Indian accent which eased Aisha up a bit.

"Ha, you wish."

"Aren't you cute?" The woman snickered as she reached for her pants.

"That's what people say, so it must be true."

She reached for her full sleeve shirt before looking Aisha's way. "Desi?"

Aisha snorted. "Obviously. And I'm guessing you too."

"Of course. And I'm guessing that you are definitely not wearing those scrubs."

"What? Didn't you hear? Bloody clothes are like the new trend around here."

There was a moment of silence before both of them started laughing.

"It's good to meet someone from home." Aisha spoke as she pulled her scrub shirt off.

"Woah, woah, woah. Don't count on that yet. I need to see if you are gonna get in my way in this competition."

Aisha smirked as she shut her locker. "Can't say I'm surprised. Can't be desi if the sense of competition isn't ingrained in your DNA."

"Oh my god never thought that I would see Jackie's twin." A familiar manly voice wafted over to them.

Wait a second...

"Shut up scalpel jockey, this is our kind of bonding."

"Oh please, don't scare the newbie aw- oh."

Oh.

She was standing right in front of him. Face to face. The playful amber eyes, with flecks of brown hadn't changed. The long shoulder length hair had been cut and styled to be short and messy.

There was no trace of the surfer boy she met in Maui. He was a man through and through but still, the youth in his eyes poured out in waves, reminding her of the sandy beaches.

But right now those amber eyes were wide with shock.

It's not everyday that you meet your ex of ten years in the locker room of your new job.

"Aisha?"

".... Bryce?!"

HEHEHEH AWKWAARRDDD

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[xwickedxspiritx]

I have no idea if there’s a subsect of people who both love the Captive Prince novels and the Buffy The Vampire Slayer TV show, but as a person who adores both, I couldn’t get this AU out of my head.

For those who haven’t watched BTVS, it’s a 90s show about a teenage girl who becomes the Slayer -- a young woman who’s gifted extraordinary strength and fighting abilities in order to fend off vampires and other demons.

Let’s say Captive Prince characters exist in this world, in the modern day. I imagine Laurent comes from a long line of Watchers, the (usually male) scholars who are paired with Slayers to guide them. Basically, Slayers are expected to handle the fighting, Watchers usually stand on the sidelines and offer knowledge about demons’ weaknesses or when the next apocalypse will show up.

Aleron and Laurent’s uncle are Watchers, though they’ve never been paired with a Slayer. There’s only one Slayer at a time, and her powers get passed on to the next girl every couple of years (they have short life expectancies, unfortunately.) Auguste is a Watcher-in-training, and he’s totally against the current system. He think it’s unfair for Watchers to expect Slayers to do all the fighting and take on 99 percent of the risks, while Watchers usually sit back, maybe offer some advice, and also make a lot of money while Slayers get nothing.

His opinions don’t really make him popular, even though people are predisposed to love Auguste. They think it’s brave, but other Watchers fear that they’ll actually be expected to share some of their wealth with Slayers, or to take up weapons. But Auguste trains day in and day out, knowing he can’t match up to a Slayer’s superhuman strength but wanting to make himself a partner that could be relied upon.

At 13, Laurent’s dream is that he can follow in his brother’s footsteps to some degree. He hasn’t really started training to fight, since his brother worries he’d get overzealous and try to fight actually fight demons, but he reads as much as he can of demonology lore. Auguste is super proud of him, and they plan that when Auguste gets paired with a Slayer, Laurent will come along and be the brains of the operation.

Slayers fight lots of demons, but killing vampires is their primary fight. Vampires are demons who used to be human but were turned, losing their lives and their souls. They don’t age, but they can be killed with a stake in the heart, decapitation, fire, sunlight or lots of holy water. 

The most infamous vampire of the day is Damianos. He and his brother Kastor were once sons of a prosperous noble family in Greece a few centuries back, but a beautiful blonde vampire named Jokaste turned them both. For 300 years or so, they’ve traveled as a group throughout Europe, wreaking carnage wherever they go. I imagine Jokaste would play them off each other, continuing relationships with both at the same time. Damianos doesn’t really care, but Kastor nurses a bitter jealousy.

As vampires, they’re not capable of remorse. Atrocities are commonplace. Damianos delights in finding strong warriors he can defeat and kill, or beautiful maidens he can feed from. Perhaps he’s even killed one or two Slayers.

When they’re sighted in France present-day, the de Vere family goes on high alert. But Laurent’s uncle is scheming. Maybe he’s after powerful, extremely dangerous magical artifacts that the de Vere family has been entrusted with, but which Aleron and Auguste keep away from him.

So Laurent’s uncle makes his move and kills his brother. But he sets it up to look like it’s Damianos who’s responsible -- Damianos, who’s known as one of the most dangerous demons in the world. Vampires aren’t super high on the demon totem pole, but Damianos fights with a skill no other vampire possesses.

Auguste believes the lie wholeheartedly and makes up his mind to go after Damianos. Let’s say the currently Slayer is also a Frenchwoman, maybe a younger Vannes, and they’re friends, though not officially partnered. They go after Damianos, who doesn’t even know, or care, about the de Vere family.

It goes badly. Damianos might not know what’s incensed Auguste and Vannes, but he likes a good fight in any case. He’s delighted, really, that two strong fighters sought him out instead of the other way around -- and he looks forward to killing them.

They put up a good fight, but Damianos is skilled on a level they didn’t expect. He gets a hit on Vannes that knocks her down hard, and Auguste, who’s been disarmed of a sword he was wielding, sees that she’s about to die. And suddenly, through all the grief and pain, he feels selfish. 

If Vannes dies, the world loses a Slayer who has experience and hardiness, who could still save so many lives. If she dies, her powers get passed on, but they have no idea who’ll get them next, and Auguste has learned what a terrible burden it is to be the Slayer -- to be forced to give up your life to an often thankless duty.

So when Damianos raises the sword to cut Vannes down, Auguste leaps in the way and takes the blow. He tells Vannes to run, because while he dragged her  into this fight for vengeance, Damianos isn’t the biggest fish to fry in terms of saving the world from demons.

Vannes hates herself for it, but she does run. And Auguste resists to the end, but he dies.

Auguste takes his last breath while Laurent struggles to get to him, held back by his uncle. They’ve been in a hidden vantage point. Laurent was so sure Auguste and Vannes would win, and when the tide turns, his uncle holds him back, saying no, Laurent, your brother wouldn’t want you to throw your life away, would he?

So Laurent watches, like the kind of Watcher he and Auguste were so determined to reject. He watches as Damianos looks at Auguste’s corpse without a care in the world. He watches as Damianos licks blood off his fingers and grins with satisfaction. 

Damianos leaves France shortly after, and seven long years begin for Laurent. Years where he learns that his uncle doesn’t have his best interests in mind after all. Where he suffers abuse, and realizes that his uncle could care less about a Watcher’s duty -- he’s taking the de Vere family’s dangerous artifacts and selling them to whoever can pay for them. Maybe he’s been in league with, and is scheming to take over, Wolfram & Hart, an international law firm that specializes in enabling demons’ interests. Evil, but pays well.

By the time Laurent’s twenty, he’s a full-fledged demon hunter all on his own. He knows he’ll never have the power a Slayer would have, but he’s trained himself ruthlessly just like in canon. He’s matched that with an encyclopedic knowledge of demonology and the occult that’s unmatched by any other current Watcher.

Of course, Laurent’s uncle campaigns among the Watcher’s Council to convince them that Laurent is unfit for the position, that he’s dangerously obsessed with the vampire Damianos and would only get a slayer attached to him killed. The Council agrees, and even with all of Laurent’s skill and knowledge, he’s never invited to any Watcher business.

So he goes freelance. Laurent tracks and kills demons across France, maybe venturing into other countries as well. He builds his own network with other demon hunters, and gets a reputation of being ruthless and unbeatable.

With him is Berenger, another Watcher-in-training who was friends with Auguste. Maybe he had to leave the Watchers because of his lover -- Ancel, an incubus. Obviously, the Watchers aren’t big on human/demon couples. Then the rest of the gang -- Jord, Lazar, Orlant, etc. Perhaps Aimeric tags along by Jord’s side as a plant from his uncle.

(I wish Captive Prince had more usable female characters that could also fit in with this. Let’s say Laurent has a lot of female cousins from his mother’s side who are badass demon fighters.)

But his uncle wasn’t wrong that Laurent has an obsession. A hatred and quest for vengeance that kept him going through the worst years -- his desire to kill Damianos, the soulless vampire.

But Damianos hasn’t been seen in years, pretty much since the day he killed Auguste. Unknown to Laurent, Damianos got himself in trouble soon after he left France. He kidnapped and tortured Kashel (sorry!) and then carelessly left her body to be found by her clan of powerful witches. 

Obviously, Halvik and the rest of the clan are enraged. They resolve to curse him with a punishment far worse than death, something that will make him suffer for the rest of his eternal life.

They give him back his human soul.

Without a soul, Damianos could kill, rape and otherwise destroy without any pangs of conscience. While the demon retained the human Damen’s memories and some parts of his personality, as a vampire he was slave to his basest instincts. His lust, both for fighting and sex, and his lack of empathy for what other people feel and experience.

But when his soul is returned, Damen’s better instincts come rushing back -- his sense of honor, his capacity for love, his belief in fair play and doing the right thing. He’s ripped out of the afterlife and forced to confront 300+ years of senseless violence and brutality, and to remember each person whose life he took or ruined.

At first, he’s lost. He goes to Jokaste and Kastor, but they reject him. Jokaste’s not a fan of his return to morality, and Kastor jumps at the chance to ditch Damen for good and have Jokaste to himself.

Let’s say that for a few years, Damen despairs. What does a vampire with a soul do with his life? He can’t live as a human, because he won’t age, he can’t walk in daylight without catching on fire, and he still needs blood to survive (though now he buys pigs’ blood from the butcher.) He wants to make up for what he’s done, but he has no idea how. He returns to his hometown in Greece, seeking some sort of comfort.

There, he meets Nikandros. He’s a fledgling demon hunter who only started hunting demons because his family was killed by them. Most humans have no idea demons exist, so he got thrown into that world headfirst. No superpowers, but he’s athletic and strategic.

He realizes what Damen is pretty quickly, though he knows nothing of his history. He’s ready to kill him without mercy, since no one’s ever heard of a “good vampire.” But Damen wins his trust -- maybe Nikandros gets outnumbered in a fight, and Damen swoops in to help him. Eventually, they team up, and Damen finds a new purpose -- and a means of redemption -- in fighting other demons and keeping innocent people safe.

Meanwhile, Laurent’s pissed that in seven years, there’s been no new sightings of Damianos or any word on his exploits. Damianos was never one to hide, so it’s baffling that he basically disappears. Laurent never considers that he might have been killed -- he saw for himself just how good he was.

As much as he wants to devote himself to hunting Damianos down, there’s the rest of the world to worry about. He also knows that if he confront Damianos too early, he’ll throw away his life for nothing. So he keeps training, keeps killing other demons, and tries not to think about the countless other victims Damianos surely must be racking up.

Suddenly, he gets word that a potential apocalypse might be happening soon in Greece. Vannes died about a year after Auguste (though she lived to save the world a few times in that period), and currently there’s a very new Slayer in Mexico who’s pretty untrained. Still, the Watcher’s Council wants to send her anyway, fairly unconcerned with whether she dies or not, since a new one will just take her place.

The new Slayer’s Watcher just died, and she hasn’t been assigned a new one. Laurent’s uncle volunteers him for the job, saying that since Laurent’s always wanted more of a role, this is perfect. The Council agrees, though of course they all figure Laurent and the Slayer will probably die.

Laurent knows what his uncle is up to, but he wants to go. Even if the risk to his life is greater than ever before, he knows it’s what Auguste would do. The new Slayer is just fifteen years old, and he won’t leave her alone to face the end of the world. He’ll train her to the best of his ability, then fight by her side. His team agrees to go as well, because despite the odds, they believe in Laurent.

So this sets Laurent on a collision course with Damen. I imagine that Laurent sets up camp in Athens, meets the Slayer, grows very attached, and starts training her. They don’t have much time, only three months before a potential apocalypse -- the world falling into hell, etc, etc.

Damen and Nikandros have also heard of the coming apocalypse, and naturally they’re also determined to prevent it. But when they arrive in Athens, they hear that the Slayer’s in town. And she’s not alone -- she’s got a whole team that fights beside her. For a Slayer, that’s pretty unheard of, and Damen is shocked -- he’s known (killed) a few Slayers, and they were always, always alone.

So he’s curious. He’s not stupid enough to make his presence known when the Slayer’s around, but he starts lurking a bit, tries to learn more about her and her team. Eventually, he catches them fighting a group of vampires.

He can tell the Slayer has a lot to learn. Even with superhuman strength and agility, she’s hesitant, doesn’t move confidently in a way that could really harness that power.

But he sees someone who does fight with confidence, even arrogance, who moves like quicksilver even though he has to be a normal human.

He sees Laurent, and a part of him’s already in love.

But he recognizes that scent. He sees the resemblance between the younger brother and the older, who he remembers all too well. Even though Laurent was hidden, Damianos knew he was there that night. Yet even as a vampire, he had no interest in hurting children.

Damen sees Laurent, the Slayer and the rest of the gang kill a dozen vampires like it’s nothing. He’s never seen teamwork like that, except for maybe him and Nikandros. It’s obvious that Laurent’s the leader, and Damen is possessed with the overwhelming, but futile, urge to know him, to understand what’s in the mind behind that golden hair.

But Damen knows he has no right to know anything about Laurent. Even with Kastor’s rejection of him, he still loves his brother. Killing a person’s brother is not something you forgive. Even though Damen and Damianos aren’t truly the same person, Damen still carries a deep guilt for everything Damianos did in his skin.

All the same, he can’t resist lurking a bit more, just to get a few more glimpses of Laurent in battle. He gets a bit stalkerish, finding out where Laurent’s team is camping out, getting an idea of each member and their fighting style, their personality. Of course, he’s also fighting demons with Nikandros. Let’s say that as the apocalypse gears up, more and more demons are drawn to Athens, so it’s a fight just to keep the city from burning down in the meantime.

It’s inevitable that their paths cross for real. Laurent, still a bit solitary at heart, goes on long walks by himself to think and to drink in the local history and art. One night, he’s set upon by several demons eager to rid the town of him. Damen had also been following Laurent at a distance, curious about what he did when not fighting.

Laurent’s armed, but only with a small dagger. Damen watches him fight three or four demons singlehandedly and is impressed yet again by his skill and versatility. But he realizes that it’s not enough -- Laurent’s going to at the very least get badly injured during this fight.

Even knowing it’s a bad idea, that he’s basically signing his death warrant, Damen rushes in to save him. He fights off the demons easily, having enhanced strength that Laurent can’t match with any amount of training.

Laurent, on the ground and bleeding, can’t believe his eyes. Damen, like the sweet idiot he is, offers to help him back to their camp, thereby admitting that he’s been aware of Laurent and his location this whole time.

Laurent lunges at him, overcome with rage, but he passes out from his injuries. So Damen does what he promises and takes him back to camp. Laurent’s team is surprised, horrified and even a little amused at this infamous vampire carrying Laurent in like he’s something precious, setting him down softly and then escaping before they can stop him.

When Laurent wakes up, he thinks it was a dream. But he saw it himself -- Damianos is really back, and Laurent has no idea what he’s playing at. Did he hunt Laurent here, wanting to kill him for some reason? Why didn’t he take the chance he had?

Laurent decides it’s Damianos’s typical MO -- he wants a good fight, and Laurent was too injured to be interesting enough to kill. But he recovers, and now he’s ready. Damianos is in Athens, and so is he, and their battle will come any day now.

But instead, Damen starts jumping into Laurent’s fights whenever it looks like things might take a turn for the worse. He even helps the Slayer once or twice when she’s caught alone by a pack of demons. Nikandros thinks he’s an absolute moron, and he rightly deduces that, despite all common sense, Damen has feelings for Laurent and wants to be close to him any way he can. More than that, he just wants to help Laurent, to make up in some small way for the harm he caused him.

With each friendly save from Damen, Laurent grows more and more incensed. He’s convinced Damen is playing some sort of game with him, although that was never Damianos’s style. Again and again, Damen helps him and his team. Sometimes he’ll even show up with tips about a new demon in town, or something about the swiftly approaching apocalypse.

It comes to a head one day when Damen and Laurent are both captured by a witch who wants to use them for some nefarious ritual. They’re chained in a cellar, out of each other’s reach but forced for once to stay in the same room, able to see and talk to each other.

At first, Laurent wants to ignore Damen. Being in the room with his brother’s killer, and not distracted by an imminent fight to survive, is almost too much for him. But then he takes the chance to pour all the invective he can on Damen, his tongue the only weapon he currently has.

Damen takes it all silently. And when Laurent’s spent, when his grief chokes him, Damen tells Laurent that he knows he can never make up for what he’s done. That he’s been selfish to force his presence on Laurent during those fights. He’s honest, so he tells Laurent how much he admires him. Not for his looks or even just his fighting ability, but for the way he guides and protects the Slayer, the way he looks out for his team.

Because he just can’t stop himself, because some part of him still craves for Laurent to see him in a positive light, he also tells him about the curse. That the Damianos he knew is gone, and that Damen carries his sins but is not that same demon.

Laurent still thinks it’s a trick. He’s forced to rely on Damen to get out of the witch’s cellar, but when they’re free, he challenges Damen to a fight. No holds barred, in which victory means death for the opponent.

Damen agrees, because he feels it’s what Laurent is owed, that chance to take out his rage. And a part of him that sounds too much like Damianos is eager to feel for himself Laurent’s prowess for battle.

So they fight. Laurent gives it everything he’s got, everything he took seven years to build. Like in canon, it isn’t enough. Damen doesn’t hold back, respecting Laurent’s anger and skill too much.

But when it comes time for the final blow Laurent’s expecting, looking up at Damen in hatred, it doesn’t come. The monster Damianos, the soulless vampire, has a look in his eyes that Laurent can’t fathom.

Damen tells Laurent that if he wants to take his life, he’s earned it through the suffering Damianos caused him and so many others. But Damen doesn’t want to see the world end, and he knows that Laurent needs him to stop the apocalypse. The Slayer, though improving in leaps and bounds through Laurent’s tutelage, can’t be expected to take on the end of the world by herself. And she isn’t yet the partner that Laurent needs -- that Damen can be.

Laurent’s tempted to take up his weapon again and cut Damen down from behind, but he’s also realizing that the apocalypse is coming too soon, and he, his team and the Slayer might not be enough. Damen, however, has 300 years of experience with demons, has seen apocalypses from a distance and is surprisingly intelligent behind all that muscle.

He accept Damen’s offer, as painful as it is. He’ll work with Damen (and begrudgingly, Nikandros) to stop the apocalypse with the help of the Slayer. But when it’s over, they’ll fight again, and Laurent will win. He’ll kill Damianos.

In the month left before the end of the world, they’re together constantly. Laurent doesn’t take this gracefully, using his vicious tongue against Damen at every opportunity. But Damen sees how he is with the Slayer, how he’s strict but gentle in teaching her. He falls in love with Laurent even more.

For Laurent, it grows harder and harder to deny how, at least professionally, Damen completes him, makes him a better hunter. His eye for strategy finds what Laurent misses, and his strength and skill in battle still manage to shock Laurent sometimes. Again and again, Damen saves his life, and against his judgment, Laurent saves Damen’s life too. They become the scourge of the Greek underworld.

When the apocalypse comes, they’re ready. It’s not easy, but they stop it, and they all manage to survive. Damen grins at him, and Laurent can’t stop looking at him.

When it’s over, they fight again, one on one. This time, Laurent really does win. Over the past month, he’s watched Damen like a hawk, partly for any hint of betrayal and partly because he just can’t figure him out. He’s starting to believe that Damen really did get his soul back, but if that’s true, what does that mean for Laurent? Damen’s still a vampire, still wears the face of his brother’s killer. 

But Damen’s also the one who fought by his side like no one else ever has, ever could. He talked with Laurent through the night, planning and strategizing, making up for what Laurent overlooked. Damen, a vampire, helped Laurent train the Slayer, his natural enemy.

So with the blade at Damen’s neck, Laurent stops. It’s the most difficult thing he’s ever had to do, but he lets his anger go. As much as he hates Damianos the vampire, he’s seen Damen the man beneath the monster, and he can’t kill him.

The Slayer returns to Mexico, and she asks Laurent to return as her full-time Watcher. The Council isn’t happy about it, but it’s hard to argue after his stunning success.

Laurent’s team is on board to go with him. And Damen says, well, he’s never been to the Americas. (Nikandros, ever-suffering, goes with them, too afraid to leave Damen to Laurent’s mercy. He’s the only family he has left.)

After that, it’s slow but inevitable. Damen and Laurent come together, helpless to do anything else. For the first time in Laurent’s life, and even Damen’s centuries-long existence, they both feel they’ve found a true partner they can trust. A person they love more than they thought possible.

On the night of Laurent’s twenty-first birthday, they consummate that partnership. It’s a moment of true happiness for both of them, for two people who felt unworthy of that kind of happiness, who thought they’d never find it again after all they’ve lost.

But the curse that returned Damen’s soul wasn’t full-proof. He was meant to suffer, to never find a moment’s rest under the burdens of his guilt. Finding happiness with Laurent changes that. It breaks the curse.

He staggers out of the room as Laurent sleeps peacefully. Damen tries to cling to his soul with everything he has, but the pull is too strong.

When Laurent wakes up, he’s alone. At first, he’s irritated, then he’s afraid that Damen’s run off to some fight. A day passes, and he can’t find him everywhere.

But Laurent’s network has started to whisper. The whole underworld beneath Mexico City is buzzing.

And it says, Damianos is back.

Laurent loses his lover, his partner, and is faced again with his brother’s killer. A soulless vampire who remembers the last eight years with disdain. Who’s obsessed with Laurent, which isn’t exactly new, but now sees him as the ideal target -- someone he wants to defeat in every way possible.

To make things worse, Laurent’s uncle shows up. An extraordinarily powerful artifact has been unearthed in Mexico -- Acathla, a demon turned to stone centuries ago, who if reawoken can swallow the world into hell.

Laurent’s facing his uncle on one side and Damianos on the other, who’s joined up again with Jokaste and Kastor. He knows that with Damianos returned, he finally does have a chance at true revenge -- and yet now, when he looks at Damianos, all he sees is Damen.

Laurent takes down his uncle and his whole network of smugglers before he can sell Acathla to the highest bidder. But at the last moment, Damianos sweeps in and steals Acathla right from under him, killing Orlant in the process.

Now, it’s do or die. If Laurent doesn’t fight Damianos and kill him, he could use Acathla to end the world. For months, he’s scoured every possible resource for knowledge on the curse, something that could bring Damen back. 

He thinks he’s finally found something, but it’s badly translated and Laurent doesn’t have the gift for magics that it would require. Ancel pulls out a precocious young witch, Nicaise, that he says he can do it, but Laurent says no. Magic is dangerous, especially a curse on the level of Damen’s, and he doesn’t want a young teenager taking that risk.

So he steels himself and goes to face Damianos. When Jokaste and Kastor stand in his way, Laurent manages to kill Kastor, and Jokaste makes her escape. He’s left with Damianos, who’s enraged at his brother’s death. Damianos, despite himself, also hates Laurent for the emptiness inside him, the hole left by the love Damen felt for the human.

Except that emptiness loses him the edge Damen always seemed to have. Once again, Laurent has his blade against the vampire’s neck, the neck of his enemy and his lover. 

Of course, Ancel and Nicaise didn’t listen to Laurent when he told them not to try the curse. It’s hell on Nicaise, and probably opens some doors he can’t close again, but the power passes through him -- and it works.

Laurent sees a light go back into Damen’s eyes, right as he’s bringing down his sword. He can’t believe it -- he’s too afraid of being wrong -- but Damen gasps, falls to his knees and looks at Laurent like hasn’t seen him in years. The curse hits him like a train, and he doesn’t remember Acathla or losing his soul.

For the first time in months, Damen’s arms are around Laurent. There’s a kiss to his hair, to his forehead, and then to his lips, and Laurent finally allows himself to hope.

But when he opens his eyes again, he sees what Damen can’t -- that Acathla’s eyes are also open. He’s awake and ready to suck the world into hell, unless the one who awakened him is sacrificed into that pit first.

And Laurent finally understands what his brother felt in those last moments. What every Slayer knows. That duty comes before everything, before love and before life.

So he kisses Damen one more time. He tells him, for the first time, that he loves him. And he tells him to close his eyes, knowing he will, because Damen trusts him without reservation.

In a mockery of all the times he could never do it, Laurent’s blade goes so easily through Damen’s heart, pinning him to Acathla. He looks into Damen’s shocked eyes as the vampire is thrown into hell. The portal closes with a snap.

Laurent is alone. 

(If you are a BTVS fan and you’ve seen season three, you know how this goes. Damen will return from hell by some act of god or devil, throwing Laurent into turmoil again -- after everything, what would it mean to forgive Damen for a second time? But unlike with their counterparts Angel and Buffy, I like to think true love conquers all in their case.)

[shelby-love]

CHRISTOPHER HERRMANN

#1 “A singer and a firefighter”

Requested: yes 

Prompts: none

Warnings: angst

Authors note: /

PART // 2 //

~

"Look you won't find a better offer anywhere else I'm telling ya," Christopher Herrmann, a charming man you met just now keeps begging you to make a deal with him.

"I only sang one song though," You say through laughter. You look at your good friend Antonio who's cracking up with laughter with narrowed brows. He's the devil that brought you here and made you stand up and sing in the first place.

"It doesn't matter! You have talent!" Something in Herrmann's words makes your heart beat a little faster.

"Alright. I'll sing." The way Herrmann jumped and decided to open the most expensive bottle of alcholol he had gave you the impression your singing carrer at this pub is long from over.

***

"Go save some lives honey," You fix your boyfriend's collar as you both stand in front of firehouse 51. Another day, another shift.

As months went by it became easier to cope with his dangerous job. You were incredibly proud of what he does.

Although your relationship was a bit rocky at times because Christopher wasn't ready to share a big part of his life with you. But you trust him and always decide against pressing him.

Christopher didn't know how to tell you about his kids. After Cindy and he split he got the kids and now he's taking full care of them. He just didn't want to scare you away. Scare away the best thing that happened to him in ages.

"I really don't wanna go," You can't help but giggle lightly. Christopher pulls you to him and kisses you.

"Y/N I'd like to have Chris back."

Now you truly laugh at your boyfriend. He pulled away and started mumbling different things about how people were so insensitive these days that they don't even give a damn about couples.

"Hey Wallace." You pull the taller man into a hug after he greets you back. "Keep Chris safe for me would you?"

"Of course Y/N. He's completely safe with me," Wallace Boden flashed his perfect white teeth.

Like he can't help himself, your boyfriend pulls you in a big hug one more time. "I'll see you after shift."

You kiss him lightly. "Call me if you need anything. Now go, you'll be late. Both of you."

Leaned against your car and watched the two good friends walk away from you. I hope all goes well for them today.

***

"I think you should ask him about it. You've been together for what? 6 months?" You're sitting on a bench that oversees the kids playground ahead of you, accompanied by your sister. Her 5 year old son is happily swinging on a swing with other kids.

Why not ask your sister for advice? You wanted to make this relationship work and the only way to do that is to talk to Christopher. Talk about why you're never at his place, how he sometimes dissappears into the day for God knows what.

"Yeah. I guess you're right," You agree. "I just don't know how to open up the subject."

She nods her head without saying a word. You get back to your pretzel and playground scanning. You laugh when you see your nephew fly off the swing. You laugh even more when you see how terrified your sister suddenly looks. He wasn't that far up in the air. "Go, don't worry about me."

Your sister nods and propels herself towards her son who's sitting still on the ground, crying. You're tempted to film him just for memories, so you can show him how scared he was when he's older. Instead of reaching for your phone you stand up and throw your pretzel away so you can go help your sister. "There goes my pretzel."

You gaze towards your sister but are shocked to see a little boy wondering around completely alone. He's smiling and waking towards the road. First instincts kick in and you run towards the little boy. He's going to be ran over.

You're nearing the road when you see a vehicle turn from around the corner. It's slipping on the road left and right without control.

You pump your legs and run faster.

The weather in Chicago yesterday wasn't great. It was raining and hospitals were experiencing big difficulties. Your sister is a nurse at Chicago Med, their ED had to work without power. You remember talking to Christopher about it when he came back.

That rain from yesterday night... It made you slip the moment you had your arms around the boy. You remember pushing him so far behind you - out or the cars reach.

At that moment the car crashed into another and flipped. It all happened way too fast for you to process. The cars crashed, one was completely demolished and flipped over but the one you've been wanting to get that boy away from - it crashed into a column... Right where you were falling.

Now you're stuck. Under a car that's going to either crush you to death or explode you in pieces.

You feel pressure on your leg and then you pass out. Your last thoughts were, I hope that little boy is okay.

***

Herrmann got out of the truck in a rush. "There's a woman under the car! She-she saved that little boy's life! You gotta help her!"

Casey and Severide barked out orders at everyone. Christopher was grabbing equipment to help stabilize the car when his good friend and Chief came to him. "Christopher... Come with me."

Confused, Christopher did as he was told. He laid the equipment and followed Wallace to a little huddle of people.

He was shocked to see his little son standing in the middle of all of them in tears. "Max?! Oh my-. Thank God you're okay." He gathered his cried boy in his arms. He was yet to be told that the woman he loves lies under that demolished car.

"Daddy!" Max cried and Christopher tried his best to calm him down. He hugged his son and told him he's alright.

"Herrmann we need you here!" Everyone heard Casey yell and Herrmann couldn't pretend he didn't. It hurt him to leave his kid there alone but Wallace offered to be with him instead.

"Look bud, dad has to go save some lives. You think you can be brave for dad?" Little Max nodded bravely, his dad was a hero. He knew that he had to be brave too. Brave just like his dad.

Herrmann grabbed his strength and went to the car crash to be shocked once more.

"What do we have?" He asked his lieutenant once he neared the scene. The driver was long gone.

"Herrmann I need you to stay calm alright?" The two hands Casey had on his shoulders were enough to make the color drain from his face.

"The car is going to collapse we need to get Y/N out! Now!!" Severide yelled and made the situation fast paced. Y/N.

It was all Christopher Herrmann had to hear before he got out of Casey's grasp and ran towards you. You were lying there, half unconscious and half awake, bathed in your blood with so many people around you.

Shay and Dawson were the only ones next to you. They kept you awake and alive.

"Oh my God... Sweetheart," That man almost broke down in tears right then and there. He felt like his world was coming apart. "I'm going to get you out. Just stay awake for me Y/N."

She saved that little boy's life. The words rang in his head like bells. He just realized... You saved his son without even knowing he was his.

He kneeled down and grabbed your hand, then he kissed it several times. "Thank you."

You were too out to truly understand his words, you were just so happy to know that he's here. To save you. Even with blurry vision you knew those outlines were his.

He pressed his lips on your forehead and whispered, "I love you."

He didn't waste any time when he pulled away, "We have to get her out Severide."

You meant a lot to Kelly Severide too, he didn't want to think about loosing you either.

It took them no time to get the car in the air. You were immediately put on the backboard and taken to Ambulance 61. Herrmann, who didn't want to leave your side jumped in the ambo with you and held your hand the whole ride to the hospital.

He even leaned his lips against your ear and softly sung the song that made him fall in love with you that very day when Antonio made you stand up and sing it.

[blazerina]

Not Delivered - Ethan x MC (Open Heart)

Not Delivered – Ethan x MC (Open Heart)

 Word Count: 1907

 Summary: A text exchange between Dr. Allie Valentine and Dr. Ethan Ramsey set after she’s made it onto his diagnostics team in year two of her residency. Both of them are learning to navigate life as colleagues and professionals, instead of lovers. Each one realizes its hard to find the words to express what they feel.

 Author’s Note: I’ve done a couple of these before and people seem to really like them. I hope this one does not disappoint! I wrote this in a hurry so please forgive any typos or formatting errors. I just felt too lazy to give this a nice clean read-over.  Xoxo

 --

The glass doors to the diagnostic team’s board room closed with a hiss as Ethan turned his chair towards the computer. He had way too many emails to read and his head was already full of nonsense. He needed to focus.  

 Was two months in the jungle not enough? He shook his head, willing himself to give full attention to the details in front of him.

 Only a few minutes into his work, he felt the vibration of his phone in his coat pocket.  Seeing it was a text message from Dr. Valentine, he readied himself for the message as he pressed on his phone to open it.

 Still in awe of my first diagnostics team meeting. I give it a solid one thumb up.  You know? Could have been better (two thumbs up emojis) but also could have been worse (thumb down emoji)…thanks for putting up with me. I promise I’ll get better. 😊 Hope your day is great!

He couldn’t help but smile, seeing her picture and knowing she was still thinking of him even after she left his presence. He was thinking of her too and was struggling under the pressure of balancing professional life with his desire to be with her. He knew he couldn’t – they couldn’t – and it wasn’t right…but it wouldn’t stop him from wanting to.

 They used to text quite a bit throughout the day before he left and things got crazy again. But now that he was back and they were in the same time zone, he didn’t see a lot of harm in it. Ethan knew he’d have to be disciplined with it though and not let it get out of hand. He didn’t want to give in to her just yet. He knew once he did, there would be no turning back.

 --

Allie had wondered whether or not it was a good idea to text him after that meeting. She second guessed herself the moment she asked Sierra to take that picture.  She was tired of always waiting around for him, of wondering this and that. So she had decided, entering her second year, that she’d take more risks and be fully in control and in charge of her own life. She hoped and prayed that decision had not already lead her astray.

 Ethan had not text her back and it had been about 3 hours now. She checked her watch one more time. Taking a quick break, she left the hospital out the emergency room entrance and found an alleyway where most doctors and nurses went to smoke. Reaching for her phone, she leaned against the building, the cold brick brushing up against her bare arm. She bit her lip and looked up at the sky, wondering if she dare to reach back out to him…again.

 With a heavy and long exhale, she typed another message to him and sent it quickly this time, before she could question anything.

  She was pleased when she got almost an immediate response and could hardly contain her smile. Allie could vividly imagine Ethan responding with a characteristic smirk on his face. She knew he wouldn’t be able to pass up a chance to remind her he’s always right.

 You’re right that this is going to be hard. I don’t want to do it, Ethan. I don’t want to have to be professional. I want to be with you.

 Ethan sighed and thoughtfully scratched his chin as he processed what kind of response he should give her, if he should respond at all, but before he could, he was paged to the ER.

 As Allie re-entered the hospital through the ER, she came around a corner at the same time as Ethan. Their eyes met for a split second and both of them could feel the air leave their lungs. Allie moved first, to get out of Ethan’s way as he followed the gurney in front of him. He didn’t have time for feelings. Not right now.

 --

 A few days had passed and both of them kept their distance from one another. They had been successful at keeping things professional. Allie never got a response from her last text and took it as a sign that Ethan was not ready, or perhaps did not want to, discuss their relationship further. Things had been so busy, and their case loads were increasing so rapidly, that she really didn’t have time to think much more about it. She tried hard to push Ethan out of her mind. He was no longer an option.

 Allie had begun to run into some problems with her new intern, Esme, and between Zaid’s brash attitude and Inez’s eternal optimism, she couldn’t get a real response that would actually help her situation. She had been running by Ethan’s office all afternoon to pop her head in and ask for some advice, but could never find him. Against her better judgement, she sent him a text, hoping he’d see her as Dr. Valentine, not Rookie, not Allie. Just a professional colleague needing some assistance.

He took forever to respond and she already jumped into a conversation with her intern before hearing from him.  When Ethan finally was able to get back to her, she explained that she was having trouble and made a remark about how she didn’t know how he, and other doctors, did it all the time with the first years.

Ethan explained that usually he was trying to size up his intern.

Well that’s dramatic…Allie chuckled to herself, putting her phone back in her pocket and hoping things turned around with Esme. She had enough drama in her life and did not want or need any more.

--

As more and more time passed for the two of them they started to grow further and further apart. Some days were better than others; they didn’t think of each other as much or focus on memories of being together. 

Other days were worse. 

One exceptionally difficult day, Allie had made mistake after mistake. June had ridiculed her in front of Baz, Esme was pushing back on every direction or suggestion Allie made, and all her roommates and friends were out of town for the weekend leaving her completely alone. 

Sitting in her living room feeling sorry for herself, she reached out to the only person she really wanted to comfort her…

Thankfully she had a few glasses of wine and passed out quickly after sending those messages.  

Ethan was at Donahue’s when they had come through and he nursed a few glasses of scotch as he pondered a response. A little too tipsy to put together a coherent text, he sent a picture instead, telling her:

This is one of my favorites. You workin on a paper and I was being, shall I say, elss than helpful.

In the morning, Allie responded with several laughing emojis.

I told you that candy reminded me of you…sweet AND sour.

It was instinct that Allie responded the way she did. It was as if her fingers texted those words without her brain’s consent. Muttering a few curse words under her breath she dropped her phone on the floor and covered her mouth. 

Allie! Don’t be stupid! She chastised herself, rolling her eyes and nervously biting her bottom lip.

Picking her phone up off the floor, she tried to come up with an excuse. A valid one. One that he would believe so she could get out of the quote unquote conversation and end this once and for all. 

Pleased with herself she typed out one last message to him:

This will show him I’m professional, that I’m focused on the work and that I want to be the best. I shut down all that reminiscing. He’ll know that I’m able to focus 100% on work now.

It made her sad to keep him out like that and to so abrasively and abruptly end the conversation, but she had to. She didn’t want to hurt anymore. And she didn’t want to hurt him, either.

--

Much to her surprise, not even two days later, Ethan was the one to initiate a text conversation, late at night.

Allie was studying at the kitchen table in her apartment with Aurora. Her phone buzzed on the kitchen counter and she asked Aurora to hand it to her.

“It’s Dr. Ramsey?” She asked, passing it to Allie. Allie grabbed it out of her hand a little too quickly, eager to see what he had to say.  

This brief exchange left Allie with more questions than answers and she wondered if Ethan really was okay.  Just as she was deciding whether or not to go to Donahue’s herself, or call Reggie and check on him, another string of messages came through.

Allie almost couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Was he actually admitting to missing her? Admitting he, too, was having a hard time being strictly professional? Allie was staring at her phone reading and re-reading the words, shock and surprise all over her face.

She wasn’t sure how to respond or what to say. She was fairly certain he knew how she felt. Still, she typed:

I miss this too…

Allie stayed awake a few more hours, trying to focus on journals and medical articles instead of her relationship with Ethan. It was difficult, but she knew what she needed to do.

As she crawled into bed, she once again couldn’t stop thinking about him. Hoping he would send her confirmation that he was home and safe, not drunk at a bar somewhere, she sent him another message.

Ethan had just walked in the door of his apartment. His head buzzing from the alcohol he had consumed and his heart aching, wishing he could be with Allie. Poor Reggie had heard his lover’s lament night after night. He made a mental note to tip him big next time he was at Donahue’s.

He took a quick shower and collapsed into his bed. Checking his phone once more before turning out the light, he saw Allie’s message and clutched his phone to his chest.

“Dammit, Allie.”

Not caring about the past or the future, feeling fulling present, living in the moment, he typed out one last and final text to her, hitting send on this three-word message with a flurry of emotion.

--

Allie waited what felt like an eternity (but it was really only 4 or 5 minutes) for a response from Ethan before making the choice to send him one last message. She decided she didn’t care anymore about professionalism or what was best for her career; what would move her farthest up the ladder or garner her the most respect. 

She knew what she wanted more than anything and that was Dr. Ethan Ramsey. Hastily, she typed three little words and pressed the send button, holding her breath but knowing it was true.

The message almost immediately came back to both of them as they simultaneously heaved a sigh of relief in their bedrooms blocks away from each other. 

It was as though they were finally able to express their feelings for one another, without bearing the pain of waiting to see the other’s response.

Neither of them were ready for what might have come had that message been received.  

Out of all the messages they had sent back and forth over the course of the last few weeks, both Allie and Ethan were thankful that this one was “not delivered” and could rest peacefully that night knowing nothing had changed.

[queen-scribbles]

Late Night Honesty

Because @haledamage is an enabler on par with some others I could name (/cough Knitter) and my arm didn’t really require all that much twisting, I’m posting this tonight instead of tomorrow: very shortly post-Book 1 fic for Mallory.

---

Two weeks.

She’d been stuck in this room for two weeks. Fourteen whole days. And she was starting to go stir-crazy.

“You need your rest,” her mother insisted.

“You’ll heal faster,” Nate encouraged.

“Push too hard and you’ll relapse,” Elidor warned.

Due respect to all of them, but she was tougher than she looked, and they weren’t the ones stuck surrounded by dull beige walls and not even a window for some kind of view. Mallory was getting very close to telling them exactly where they could stick their advice. (Especially Nate; she valued the man’s friendship and knew he was only trying to help, but in her opinion, anyone with supernatural healing abilities needed to keep their attractive mouths shut regarding those who had to do without that advantage.) At least she didn’t have to take those damn pills anymore. And she had been walking around her room for the past several days without incident beyond Elidor fussing when he thought she was trying too hard.

But she felt (mostly) fine now, and desperately needed to at least go through the motions of her workout routine, even if done in such a way to avoid over- exertion. She’d forgone it enough days to make her palms itch. So she stuffed her feet in the slippers by her bed, tugged straight her sweatpants and t-shirt, and poked her head out the door.

To her surprise, the hall was empty. No hovering nurse, no concerned vampire, no Mum. No one to talk her way past with half-truths about where she was headed or persuade to let her go alone. Works for me, Mallory thought with a half-smile, tightening her ponytail as she stepped into the hall and tugged the door closed behind her.

Digging through memories of her first visit, she figured out which direction to head from what she mentally referred to as the hospital wing and set off at a pace best described as a mosey. Elidor, at least, had half a point; pushing too hard would mean a relapse, they just differed on what they considered ‘too hard’. This would be fine. She was fine.

To her mild surprise, Mallory actually made it through a few turns in the maze of hallways without anyone acting concerned about where she was headed. Of course, she only passed two or three agents, all of whom simply nodded and murmured ‘Detective’ as they passed. Mallory nodded back and kept walking. If she didn’t act suspicious, maybe no one would ask what she was doing or where she was heading.

The next corner she rounded, however, nearly ran her slap-bang into a familiar figure, far closer to her height than almost anyone else here.

“Just the person I was looking for,” Felix grinned, grabbing her arm to steady her. “Though not where I was expecting to find you. Finally decide to escape, did you?”

Mallory shrugged and crossed her arms. “It’s not escaping if no one’s explicitly told me not to leave.”

He laughed. “Planning to ask forgiveness rather than permission?”

“Don’t need either; I’m a big girl,” she retorted, eyes narrowing when he bit his lip, eyes glinting with mischief. “Make that comment and I’ll whup your ass. Super healing or no.”

Felix chuckled and held up his hands in a gesture of innocence. “Dunno what you’re talking about. And I’m sure you’d try.”

“Sure y’ don’t.” Mallory lightly kicked the wall.

He gave a jovial shrug and changed the subject. “So where were you headed? Maybe I’ll tag along.”

“Training room,” she said, spine already tensing defensively. “I’ve gone too long without punching something; it’s making me fidgety.”

“Might not be my first choice,” Felix commented, skipping right over the suffocating concern she’d feared and tugging her back into motion. “But I think you’ll still be better company than some others I could name.”

“Alright, you can keep an eye out for the fainting spells my mother and Nate are so sure will overtake me with the slightest bit of exertion,” she deadpanned.

He grinned. “Do I get to catch you if you swoon? Please say yes.”

Mallory couldn’t resist a chuckle. “While I doubt there will be any swooning, sure, feel free to catch me if I’m wrong.”

-o-

The training room was empty when they reached it, the lights flickering ever so slightly as Felix closed the door behind them.

That was the final straw that prompted Mallory to ask, “Where is everyone?” She’d seen far more people on her first visit to the facility, and the place being all ghost-town now was more than a little unnerving.

Felix chuckled and leaned against the wall. “Well, most are probably sleeping; I think it’s roughly... 2:30 in the morning?”

She shook her head and sighed. “Of course it is. My internal clock’s going to be screwy for months at this rate.”

He smiled sympathetically. “You can always go back to your room and try to sleep. S’what I figured you’d be doing.”

“No.” Mallory kicked off her slippers and stepped onto the nearest training mat. She gave the punching bag that hung over it an experimental nudge to test its resistance. It moved stiffly and not very far. Good, won’t have to pull my punches much to avoid it swinging back to hit me in the face. “I need this, and we’re already here, might as well.”

Felix shrugged and stuck his hands in his pockets, amber eyes glinting as he watched her. “Your call.”

She let out a slow breath and cracked her knuckles as she mentally reviewed her routine. It was a struggle to recall in spots after so long without doing it, and Mallory frowned to herself as she swung into motion. Fortunately, her irritation proved premature; each step came to her as she reached it, flowing through from move to move with long practice. She lost herself in the familiarity and almost forgot she had company. It helped that Felix was was actually quiet as he watched. She didn’t trust that smile tugging at his lips, though.

Especially when it started to spread, his eyes gleaming like he knew something.  “So, detective, I have a question.”

Mallory raised a brow, more grateful for the excuse to rest than she thought she’d be. “What?” she panted as she reached up to adjust her ponytail.

“There’s this thing you do with the higher, spinning kicks where you ever so slightly lean back on your heel and shift as you’re turning,” Felix began, pushing away from the wall and offering her one of the water bottles from a small table shoved against the wall.

She took it with a nod of thanks. “And?”

“Just curious if that’s part of any particular style is all, ‘cause you do it, and Adam does it, but Nate doesn’t.” He grinned. “Oh, don’t look so surprised. I’m infiltration and reconnaissance; of course I watch friends as well as enemies.”

Mallory snorted. He had a point. “Maybe Nate doesn’t have to b’cause his legs are almost as long as my entire body,” she said dryly. “But I don’t really remember when I started doing it, it just helps keep my balance for follow-through.” She tried to ignore the small, smug seed of warmth brought on by the fact she and Adam had a similar quirk to their styles as she took a drink. I don’t care, why would I care?

“Adam’s not that much shorter than Nate,” Felix pointed out, still grinning with faux innocence. “So I don’t think it’s a height thing for him.” He cocked his head as the grin bled into a more ‘mildly concerned’ look. “Are you still doing alright? Ready to call it a night?”

“I’m fine.” Mallory shook her head and took another swig from the water bottle. “I want to do another maybe ten minutes, and then I’ll go shower and try to get some sleep.”

“If you’re sure.” The grin reappeared as he settled back against the wall. “I have it on good authority you’re a big girl, after all.”

She laughed and tossed him the water bottle, which he caught, before picking up where she’d left off with the routine. Two weeks without it, she’d forgotten what good stress relief even just going through the motions could be, how much it helped clear her mind to deal with things-

“Deal with me?” the mocking voice echoed in her head, accompanied by the flashed image of hard eyes surrounded by greying black curls.

Mallory flinched and thrust her hand out toward the face in a palm strike, the movement far more vicious and forceful than any she’d done so far.

Wicked laughter filled her ears. “Just what are you planning on doing with me?”

She kicked out, which proved equally ineffective at stopping the hideous laugh.

“Going somewhere?” his voice menaced, underscored by the glint of metal and smell of rain on pavement.

A hand brushed her shoulder as she readied to throw another punch, and Mallory instinctively whipped her hand up and back.

Reality crashed in once more as she made solid contact and heard Felix yelp in the same instant her knuckles started to sting.

“Shit!” She pivoted on one heel, hazel eyes wide in mortification. “Felix-”

“Trying to injure your way through the unit, detective?” he asked, his own gaze thoroughly amused over the hand pressed to his bloodied nose. “Watch out when you get to Mason; he’ll actually fight back.”

“I’m so sorry!” Mallory said fervently, her face warming despite his joke. She started to reach out with one hand and then pulled back.

Felix waved off her chagrin, a smirk peeking out from behind his hand. “This’ll be gone in a minute, tops. Don’t worry about it.”

“Sure, your nose’ll heal, but you still got blood on your shirt,” she pointed out, reaching forward to pluck at the fabric and exhibit the small crimson stains.

“Again, don’t worry about it. If it comes out, it comes out, if not...” he shrugged.  “Not like it’s my favorite shirt or anything.” There was a gleam in his eye that made Mallory suspicious, but he didn’t give her a chance to follow that rabbit trail. “Or my first--or worst--bloody nose, for that matter.”

“No? What a relief,” she deadpanned, running one hand down her ponytail.

“Yeah, that honor goes to this spiky rogue demon-monster-thing we had to fight.” Felix gestured broadly as he spoke, and she could see, sure enough, his nose had already pretty much stopped bleeding. “Bigger than you but I think less intimidating,” he teased, winking in response to the dirty look she sent him.  “Whacked me across the face with its tail when it was trying to get Mason. Damn near broke my nose. And cheekbone. And jaw.”

Mallory snorted. “Good thing you have that lovely super-healing, huh?”

“It did come in handy,” Felix agreed, wiping his hand on his shirt. “Still was a mess of a nosebleed for a couple minutes. I did have to throw out that shirt. And it took forever to get the bloodstains out of the scarf. In fact, if you know they’re there, you can still kind of see them,” he admitted as they left the training room and meandered down the hallway.

Mallory raised a brow. “Let me guess; the scarf was a favorite.”

“Yeah.” Felix scuffed his foot against a mark on the floor and grinned. “Worth the extra effort to save.”

“I suppose with the ability to heal from just about anything, your clothes would take a worse beating than you do,” she said with a chuckle.

“You would be correct. It’s happened to all of us,” he shrugged. “That spiky demon thing also absolutely shredded Mason’s favorite pair of jeans.” He snorted. “I think he might’ve ripped its head off if Nate hadn’t stopped him.”

Maybe he should’ve killed it if it was that dangerous, Mallory thought, wondering how much damage the thing had done to Mason in the process of ‘absolutely shredding’ his favorite jeans.

But Felix was still talking, which denied her a chance to comment. “...Nate lost a jacket fighting a banshee, and, well,” he turned to grin at her slyly, “I haven’t seen Adam wear his favorite t-shirt since a certain warehouse encounter ended with him getting shot.”

She actually stopped in her tracks at that, despite them not having reached her room. “What?”

His grin widened at her reaction. “Oh, come on, detective, surely in your line of work you’re familiar with the fact you can’t really fix bullet holes.”

“Yes, but, I’m usually more worried about that ending up true of people opposed to clothes,” Mallory snarked, eyes on the floor as she resumed walking and tried to quash the small squirm of what felt an awful lot like guilt. She was familiar with the concept, and having experienced that irritation, couldn’t help but feel a little bad now. No matter how much of an ass Adam could be.

“Fair,” Felix chuckled, matching her pace. “And it’s just an observation, not like he’s complained about it or anything.”

“That’s not saying much,” she muttered. “Only thing I’ve heard Adam complain about is including me in things.”

He shrugged. “In his defense, we were chasing a ‘psycho vampire killer’, and you are human, which meant there was more risk to you than us.”

“Mm,” she grunted in reluctant concession. It was a hard point to argue with “I won’t risk losing you!” echoing in her memory and making her stomach lurch and feel all fluttery whenever she dwelt on it. Which she tried not to do; it just confused her. “Think I handled myself pretty well, though.”

“I think ‘pretty well’ is being modest,” he said dryly. “You were the one who got close enough to take Murphy down.”

“It was a team effort,” Mallory waved off the praise. “And it’s not like what you four did was small potatoes.”

“True,” Felix agreed cheerfully. “You were still damn impressive.”

She chuckled and swished the end of her ponytail as it slid over her shoulder.  “Thanks.”

“Welcome.”

With her looking at the floor and him looking at her, neither noticed the imposing blond figure outside Mallory’s room until they’d almost reached it.

Felix’s head snapped up first. “Oh, hey, Adam,” he said, a grin in his voice and eyes even if he kept it from tugging his lips. “Coming to check on the detective?”

“I was.” His voice held a frown that matched his expression when Mallory looked up. It was, of course, aimed at her. “Where were you?”

“Went for a walk,” she replied, lightly elbowing Felix in the ribs before she crossed her arms. “That’s allowed, right?”

Adam’s frown deepened, but before he said anything, Felix cleared his throat. 

“I’ll leave you to it,” he said, that grin finally reaching his lips. “I can see where this is going, and I’d hate to get in the middle of Mom and Dad fighting.” He was off down the hallway before either of them could protest the comparison. Both glowered after him briefly anyway before returning their attention to each other.

“I thought you were supposed to be resting,” Adam said sharply.

Mallory shrugged as she reached for the door handle. “And I thought you had better things to do than babysit me at three in the morning, but apparently we were both wrong.”

He let out a sigh that verged on a growl as he grabbed the door when she jerked it open and followed her into the room. “Detective-”

“What?” she snapped, crossing her arms again and cocking a brow at him, almost daring him to say what she suspected was coming.

“Where were you really?”

“Went for a walk,” she repeated. “Really.” Then, after a beat of tense, eyes-locked silence, “to the training room.”

Adam stiffened(if that that was possible; the man already rivaled most boards).  “What?!”

“You heard me, It’s not like I was full-on sparring with anyone; I just wanted to run through the motions of what I do as a workout. It’s been two weeks, Adam. Do you really expect me to believe you wouldn’t be restless if I tied you down for two weeks?!”

He crossed his arms(mildly distracting, but only for a second) and scowled.  “That’s different-”

“Why? Because I’m human?” she demanded, rolling her shoulders in a vain attempt to relieve their building tension.

“No, because you are still recovering-”

“Don’t. Start,” Mallory cut him off. She took a wide step forward and poked a finger into his chest. “I already get enough fussing from Mum and Nate for five people, I don’t need you adding to it. Why do you even care?!”

Something flickered in Adam’s icy green eyes, and Mallory wondered if she’d caught him as off-guard with the question as she had herself. But it was gone a heartbeat later as his scowl deepened and he batted her hand aside. “If you’re going to be part of Bravo, that makes it my responsibility to see that your recklessness and overconfidence don’t have consequences--”

Her temper blazed high enough it took a couple tries to make her voice work.  “Overconf-?!”

“--particularly if you are going to exhibit a complete disregard for your own safety and health, forcing others to worry about it for you.”

“I am not fragile, Adam!” Mallory snapped, glaring up at him with added irritation from the flutter in her chest that his argument could almost be classified as concern. I can take care of myself.

A muscle in his jaw twitched as he stared at her for several long seconds. That same something flickered in his eyes again, softening them considerably and making her insides twist before it disappeared.

“Being tougher than I thought you were does not make you invincible, Detective,” he finally said, tone much softer but no less stern. “You should remember that and act accordingly.”

“I should, huh?” she challenged, tilting her chin up.

Adam held her gaze and raised a brow fractionally. “Yes. You should.”

As if to underscore the finality of his words, he turned on his heel and strode from the room.

Mallory watched the door close behind him and just stared at it for a minute, waiting for her temper to cool and breathing to slow. He is the most infuriating-

She shook her head with a sigh. It wasn’t worth the energy. Besides, as she’d been informed several times, minimizing stress would accelerate her recovery. 

Of course, less stress would be a lot easier to achieve if she could get her thoughts on something other than bloody Adam. I’m still glad I shot him, she grumbled to herself as she grabbed a change of clothes and went to take that shower.

That, of course, brought to mind Felix’s comment and another pulse of guilt swirled with the lingering agitation to make her motions jerky and sharp as she started the water and stripped off the dirty clothes. Adam could be an arrogant, infuriating ass at times, and she really didn’t regret shooting him, but having sacrificed a couple favorite articles of clothing in the line of duty, she did feel just a little bad about being the cause of that. The irony of which was not lost on her. Totally fine with having shot him, feeling guilty for ruining his favorite shirt in the process.

You could always replace it, if you feel that bad, a little voice in her head prodded as she stepped under the blissfully warm spray.

How? Mallory scoffed, running her fingers through her hair to check for knots. The silky black strands only snagged once or twice as the water soaked them. I don’t know what color, what size, any of that...

So ask for help.

She could do that. If this was a course of action she chose to pursue, obviously. She wasn’t committing to anything. And if she did, she’d need to give Nate or Felix or whoever she asked a reason why she cared. Peace offering, since she was joining Bravo? She felt bad for costing him his favorite shirt?

Her irritation climbed as she rinsed shampoo out of her hair. Why was everything with Adam so damn difficult? Why did she care?

No, she knew the answer to that one.

How does he always manage to get to me like this?!

You know the answer to that one, too, the little voice chuckled.

Mallory groaned and rested her forehead against the tiled wall. She did know, and wasn’t sure if it was best or most inconvenient, aggravating fact of her life.

Maybe both.

She stood there for a few more minutes, letting the water run over her even though she was clean. Until she remembered the time and reluctantly shut it off. She shivered as she stepped out and quickly reached for her towel, drying hastily as goosebumps prickled her skin. The simple t-shirt and pants the Agency provided were comfortable enough, and even with her internal clock screwed up, she was beginning to feel the fact it was after three A.M. 

Whatever she decided to do--if anything--could wait until she’d had some sleep. And probably should, Mallory thought wryly. Sleep deprived decisions rarely proved the best course of action. And maybe that’s all this was; her tired mind making her feel guiltier over something little than she should.  Or maybe not... You were more honest when you were tired, after all.

Sleep, she chided herself. Sleep first, then worry about the future and all that other stuff like getting along. Adam wasn’t going anywhere(More’s the pity, no she didn’t mean that), neither was the frustratingly warm curl just his name sent through her insides, and for that matter, neither was she. There’d be plenty of time to figure things out later.

For now, though, the room no longer felt suffocating thanks to her late-night (early morning, rather) jaunt, and Mallory was content to slip back in bed. She was asleep almost the second her head touched the pillow.

Her dreams were much more pleasant than she expected. And cast in shades of icy emerald green.

But that was probably just a coincidence.7

[popatochisssp]

Fur a Good Time, Call... 15/15

Series: Undertale, Horrortale Relationship(s): HT!Sans/Reader, HT!Papyrus & Reader, HT!Sans & HT!Papyrus, ensemble Chapter Warnings: none 

You work at an animal shelter. You love all your fuzzy buddies and can’t imagine a better job for yourself than looking after cats and dogs all day, even when the work is hard and often gross. What can you say? You’ve got a lot of love to give!

You’re just not quite sure yet how you feel about the new monster who’s been helping out these days, and this riddle wrapped up in an enigma is something you just can’t resist investigating…

AO3 Link

Epilogue - Family

They say time flies when you’re having fun.

If that’s true, you must have been having a skeleton of fun, because the next few years feel like they’ve breezed right on by.

You finally pulled the trigger and moved yourself in with the brothers after a lot of encouragement and not-so-subtle hints.

You were right, it didn’t really change anything, except that now when you come home after a long day, you have your dog right there waiting for you and roughly eighty percent of the time, a delicious home-cooked meal from Papyrus instead of something you have to toss in the microwave or eat right out of a bag.

When you find a particularly rib-tickling meme in the middle of the night, you no longer have to text it to Sans to share it. All you have to do is give the big skeleton next to you in bed a little nudge, and you get to enjoy the wonderful sound of his sleepy chuckle in person instead of just an ‘lol’ on a screen.

It’s not a big difference, but it feels like an important one.

Nothing much has changed at the shelter either, excepting maybe your promotion to assistant manager.

When your boss had first pulled you into her office and offered you the change in position, your instinct had been to turn it down. You were just a worker, after all, and ‘assistant manager,’ well, that sounded important, not something you could do…

Except you’d started working on that a lot lately, recognizing your own self-deprecating thoughts as you were having them and shutting them down when you could.

Papyrus had been a huge help with that once he’d noticed it was something you struggled with, and he had actually let you in on some of the techniques he used to power through similar feelings.

The most helpful had probably been when he told you to, “Imagine Those Thoughts Are Coming From Somebody You Loathe With Every Fiber Of Your Being! That Way When They Tell You That You Can’t Do Something And You Do It Anyway Because You’re Super-Cool, It’s Like You’re Proving Them Wrong And Rubbing His Gross, Greasy Face In It, I’M AMAZING, JERRY, YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT AND YOU CAN’T HOLD ME BACK!”

You’d only asked once who the hell ‘Jerry’ was, in the middle of a Grillby’s date.

Every single monster in the vicinity, even Sans had just grimaced and looked away, pretending you hadn’t spoken and eagerly leaping onto a different subject.

You decided that maybe it was better you didn’t know.

In any case, with Papyrus’ advice in the back of your mind, you managed to accept your promotion with hesitant grace and to your pleasant surprise you were able to handle it just fine.

You already did so much at the shelter that the new job title barely added a handful of responsibilities that your workaholic self wasn’t already doing, and certainly nothing you weren’t capable of getting the hang of quickly. You make a little bit more money now and you have more control over your own hours than you ever did before, which is a very nice perk!

Actually taking time off for yourself…that’s admittedly still a work in progress, but you’re lucky: if there’s one thing your Sans is good at, it’s knowing when you need some self-care time and he’s always ready to con sweet-talk you into taking a break now and then.

You’re actually taking the day off right now, though not because of Sans.

Today is for Papyrus, because after years of study and hard work, your favorite skeleton has made it—finally about to become a boneafide nursing school graduate!

…Pap refused to speak to you for a solid three hours after you made that joke.

Sans, on the other hand, looked at you like he might legitimately cry over it.

His emotions had been pretty high lately, actually, what with his little bro’s big accomplishment and it seems like all the pride and joy in his soul the past few weeks has left him just a teensy bit of a walking disaster.

He can barely focus on anything else for the life of him, so this day off of yours was kind of a necessity. Sans is in absolutely no state to be remembering things like finding the camera, making sure it has memory, ordering the most gaudy and colorful bouquet you could possibly find, figuring out the itinerary…

You handle all of that for him so that all your scatterbrained bonefriend has had to do for the past two weeks was gush to literally anyone who stood still longer than a minute—friend, acquaintance, or complete stranger—about how his bro was graduating and isn’t he just the coolest?

With the way he’s been talking it up, you honestly wouldn’t be surprised if half the shelter staff showed up, plus the entirety of monsterkind.

You hope they all do come: your Papy deserves as much recognition he can get!

-

Sans shortcuts you onto the neatly manicured lawn of Papyrus’ campus, not far from the auditorium where the little ceremony is going to be held.

He’s practically vibrating with excitement and it’s so different from his usual chill persona that it makes you laugh.

“Are you actually gonna be able to sit still the whole time?” you ask with a grin.

“what?” Sans barely glances at you, smoothing his clothes down a little. He processes your question belatedly and when he’s done buffering, he huffs. “oh. pfft. i’m fine.”

He’s back in that tie/sweater-vest combo he wore on your first date—the only ‘nice’ clothing he owns, you think—after Papyrus begged him to please, please not embarrass him by wearing that ratty old hoodie of his.

You’re a little dressed up yourself and so is the dog between you, Buddy in a novelty bone-print bow-tie and a knock-off service animal vest that had been bought online at the last minute.

He hadn’t earned it with any kind of training. It was just a way to sneak him into the place and keep people from questioning his quadrupedal presence, thought up because if there was anybody who looked like they needed a support animal, it was Sans with the giant, debilitating-looking hole in his head.

You weren’t sure you were a hundred percent on board with the deception, but both of the brothers had outvoted you on this one: Buddy was family, too, and he should be there to see Pap graduate!

Sans had (mostly) eased your concerns by pointing out how well-behaved and unlikely to cause a scene your son was, and also by promising that you could leave to escort him out if there was any kind of trouble.

Buddy is so calm right now that you're actually starting to think there won’t be any trouble.

It’s only Sans you’re still worried about.

“Are you fine?” you have to wonder teasingly. “You know Pap’s not the only one graduating, right? We’re gonna have to sit through speeches and other graduates, real boring stuff.”

Sans rolls his eye-light at you. “duh. why do ya’ think i skipped my own graduation? ya’ think i’m gonna waste my whole day at a snoozefest? keep dreamin’.”

Your laugh turns to a soft, affectionate smile as he duly continues, “but this one’s for pap. i don’t mind doin’ it for him.”

What a sweetheart…

You pass him the camera, knowing he’s going to want to be the one to record everything, and with your lightened burden of only flowers and a dog leash, you start walking.

“C’mon,” you say, “we better get in before all the good seats are taken. Unless you want to try taking video from the nosebleeds?”

Sans looks mortally offended by the very notion and follows right after you with an indignant little, “how dare you,” that gets you snickering all over again.

In spite of your warnings about boredom, you’re pretty excited for this, too.

You get to be present for a huge moment in the life of somebody really important to you, with just about everybody else who’s important to you by your side.

It’s a momentous occasion and you can’t wait to see it.

-

Turns out getting in early was a good idea—the auditorium is quickly packed with people, mostly humans come to see loved ones graduate, but also monsters, and lots of them.

You remember learning from Sans that monsters are made of love and compassion and you see it now in spades as all the familiar faces pour in and take seats toward the back or choose to stand, perfectly willing to give priority to people who had actual family in the ceremony but still wanting to be here to show support for one of their own.

You wave hello to everyone you know from your seat and beside you, Sans just beams.

Another thing you were right about was the boring speeches.

There’s two separate addresses once everything gets underway, with the usual types of academic buzzwords liberally tossed about: hard work, dedication, responsibility, ambition…

Sans dozes off halfway through the first one and you just barely manage to snag the camera back from him before it falls out of his lax grip.

You decide to let him sleep, though, knowing it’s not going to get more interesting for awhile yet and what Papyrus doesn’t know won’t earn Sans a lecture.

For his sake, you hope his quiet snoring is too soft to be picked up by the recording. If it isn’t…

Well, that’ll at least be funny to find out when you play the video back later!

It’s not until they finally get to the heart of things, calling up the graduates for their photo-op walk across the stage, that you give Sans a gentle elbow to the ribs.

He snorts awake and gives an appropriately sheepish look to your teasingly raised eyebrow, but he also leans over to nuzzle your cheek as he takes back the camera with a grateful little, “thanks,” that melts your heart.

You spot Papyrus well before it’s his turn, standing off to the side in the line-up. He’s simply too tall and noticeably nonhuman to be missed, especially among his slightly younger and much smaller peers.

He’d done such a good job of being all cool and unaffected in the days leading up to this…but not anymore.

Even from here you can see Pap struggling not to cry a bit at the sight of just how many of your friends had come out to see him today.

Sans’ eye-sockets are starting to look suspiciously wet, too, and if it weren’t for that ‘Don’t Embarrass Me’ promise he’d made, you have a feeling he’d be on his feet bragging to everyone around you about how that’s his brother! Get a load of that skeleton! Ain’t he the coolest?

When it’s Papyrus’ turn to cross the stage and accept his window-dressing diploma, Sans is back to nearly vibrating and you clap as hard as you can on his behalf.

He surprises you, though—holding the camera steady in one hand, he puts the phalanges of the other between his teeth and defies every rule of acoustics and logic itself with a loud, impossible whistle that pierces the auditorium even through all the applause.

You smile when Pap’s skull swivels right over to where the two of you are sitting and he scowls at you in that unique, ‘I Cannot Believe You Right Now’ way of his.

But then he looks…surprised.

And then happy?

Happier, anyway.

You wonder why the change of heart, but they’re already calling the next name and he’s walking back off stage to let all the other grads have their turn in the spotlight, too.

Sans pauses filming and turns to you, grinning so wide you’re surprised his mandible is still attached.

“you know what this means, right?” he asks in an eager whisper.

No, but you think you can guess.

Still, you want to hear the punch-line, so you ask, “What?”

“Pap’s a nurse now—he gets to call the shots.”

“Pfft! Do not say that to him today!”

“why not?” Sans scoffs, feigning realization. “oh, you’re right, no job yet. he wouldn’t have the patients for my jokes.”

You press your hand over your mouth, trying to stifle your giggles.

“Shhhhhut up…!” you hiss.

He sighs. “guess ya’ don’t wanna hear the one about surgeries, huh? ah, suture self.”

Damn him.

Damn him, you are trying to be courteous to everyone still trying to pay attention to the ceremony, but judging by the amount of whispering and secretive glances in your direction you must not be doing a good job.

……Or so you think, until Sans goes very, very still beside you.

“Babe? …Are you okay?”

He doesn’t answer you, which is concerning.

Concerning enough that you frown and follow his gaze, just behind you to the very back of the auditorium where…

Oh.

Oh stars.

There’s another familiar face in the room today, but this one you’d only ever seen in pictures, maybe once in some distant footage aired in the news, right when monsters had surfaced.

You understand that surprised look on Papyrus’ face now, and the wide-eyed stares and whispers from the people sitting around you.

Even shadowed and silent, flanked by armed guards, Queen Undyne cuts an incredibly imposing figure in person.

Former queen, you suppose, but her very bearing could only be described as regal…or maybe military. She’d captained the Royal Guard once and you can see that now in her posture, parade rest if not for her hands cuffed in front of her instead of behind.

Her expression is stony and utterly unreadable to you, but there’s only one reason she could possibly be here, today, and he’s probably ecstatic backstage right now waiting to come greet his oldest friend.

And his brother is here next to you, hands starting to tremble as he stares blankly at the woman who broke his head and Papyrus’ teeth all in the same day.

“Oh, stars, Sans, are you…? Do…do you—”

You cut yourself off as Sans suddenly moves, taking the dog leash out of your hand. Buddy, lying obliviously at your feet, perks up a little in curiosity.

“gonna…take buddy out for awhile,” he says quietly. “back later.”

And with that, the seat beside you is empty, just you and the vibrant bouquet of flowers in your lap.

…Oh, boy.

-

The ceremony can’t end quickly enough.

It’s a struggle to remain politely seated through the rest of the proceedings and when it all wraps up and people start to get up and mill about, you can’t help but feel a little lost.

You can’t see the ex-queen anymore in the crowd, but you also can’t see Sans or Papyrus and you’re not sure which of them needs you more right now.

It’s a tough choice, but in the end you settle on Papyrus—as much as you love Sans, it’s Pap’s day and he needs to get these flowers and a ‘congratulations’ straight from your lips.

Plus it’s not like Sans is alone right now. He took your ‘service dog’ with him and Buddy is probably getting some on-the-job training about emotional support right about now.

They’ll be fine.

It takes some searching, but you do eventually find Papyrus…and you’re not the only one because Undyne is there, too, listening patiently to whatever Pap is talking about with such broad and animated gestures.

You stand there for a long, indecisive moment.

Should you…just go over there and…interrupt? Wait until they’re finished?

…At least one very cowardly part of you thinks Sans had the right idea just peacing out like he did.

Even this close, Undyne is beyond intimidating, as massive as Papyrus with none of the gentle friendliness to soften it and not even the orange prison jumpsuit she’s wearing can cover all of her sharpest features—spines, scales, teeth, all razor-sharp and terrifying.

(You wonder if the officers escorting her here today would stand any kind of chance if she decided to escape custody, even with their side-arms.)

Ultimately, the choice of what to do is taken out of your hands.

Papyrus spots you and calls your name, eagerly waving you over, and well…

Here goes nothing.

You walk over with your best winning smile, presenting your bouquet to the new grad.

“Happy graduation, Pap!” you say brightly, feeling one yellow eye burning through you. “We’re so proud!”

Papyrus takes the flowers with a crinkle of the plastic around them, looking like he’s ready to start sparkling any moment now. “Thank You! Wowie, I’ve Never Seen Glitter On Roses Before!”

“Sans’ idea,” you admit.

“Oh!” Papyrus frowns, seeming to notice his brother’s absence. “Oh, Is He…Did He…?”

Need to go get some air because Undyne was here and he hasn’t forgiven her, but he also wanted to let Papyrus have a moment with his friend on his big day?

Probably.

But what you say is, “He went to take Buddy outside. He said he’d be back, though!”

You trust the sharp and clever Papyrus to be able to read through the lines, and by the relieved and undeniably fond smile on his face you’re pretty sure he understood.

The amused-sounding snort from Undyne suggests he’s not the only one.

Papyrus perks up at the sound, suddenly tugging you closer. “Stars, I Almost Forgot! Human, This Is My Friend, Undyne! Undyne, This Is Sans’ Human, I’ve Told You About Them Before!”

You crane your neck, meeting the fish-monster’s piercing gaze for the first time. She certainly doesn’t look very impressed with you, making no move to offer you a hand to shake or even speak.

Considering her history with humans…you’re not surprised.

Still, Pap is watching you expectantly, so you smile and introduce yourself, saying, “It’s nice to meet you!”

Is it, though…?

Maybe. Maybe not.

You know this person by reputation only, and the brothers’ opinions on her are from two opposite ends of a spectrum. You don’t know her for yourself and all you have to judge her on is her actions.

You know what she did to Sans and Papyrus. You don’t like that at all.

But the sight of her standing here in flimsy handcuffs that she could probably break just by flexing a little too hard…it reminds you that she chose to wear them so that Sans wouldn’t have to.

And the fact that she’s here is a whole other layer. How hard must it have been to finagle something like this? You can’t imagine how frustrating and redundant the maze of human politics and legal proceedings must’ve been, even for someone with literally royal clout, trying to arrange leave from prison to be here today, just to be able to see Papyrus graduate.

Undyne did it anyway.

She must really care about Papyrus and as someone with that same level of investment…

Well, that has to earn her back a few brownie points with you.

You can at least be polite.

“So…you’re the punk Papyrus won’t shut up about, huh?” Undyne sneers down at you.

…You can try to be polite.

“Yeah, I suppose that’s me!” you say easily, sparing a glance up at the skeleton in question. “Unless Pap’s been talking up some other humans I don’t know about, I guess.”

Papyrus gasps as if greatly offended. “I Would Never!” he exclaims. “You’re The Best Human!”

You laugh. “‘The best’? Really? I’m the best one?”

“Of Course You Are!” Papyrus says, as if it ought to be obvious. He bends down a little to more easily hug you, explaining, “You’re Our Human. That Makes You The Best!”

Oh…oh, jeez, Papyrus…!

You hug him back.

“Is that true?” You turn to find Undyne watching the two of you, her eye narrowed. “They’re your human, too, Papyrus?”

Papyrus doesn’t hesitate to answer with a firm ‘yes.’

Undyne huffs, making a face.

“Man,” she grumbles, before turning to you with a stern expression. “Hey, human—you know you have to be good to these skeletons, don’t you?”

Your eyebrows shoot up. “Uh… I—”

“‘Cause they’re real important!”

“…Well…yeah, they—”

“It looks like you’re doing okay so far,” she says, which sounds almost like a concession, “even…even…but! You better keep it up, alright?! Queen’s orders!”

“You’re Not The Queen Anymore, Undyne,” Papyrus tries to cut in, but she just glares at him.

“Cherish these skeletons, human!” she demands of you, making it sound like a proclamation. “Cherish them!”

“……”

You…

You kinda want to laugh.

Undyne is definitely intense…but she’s hardly the cold and solemn monarch the human media’s made her out to be. Having her here in front of you, trying to intimidate you into taking care of Sans and Papyrus…

You think maybe you understand why she and Pap used to be friends.

Are friends, that’s…that’s pretty clear.

When you smile at her instead of cowering, she scowls, which really just makes you grin wider.

“I don’t think that’s gonna be a problem,” you assure her. “These guys are…they’re basically my family at this point.”

You give Papyrus a little side-squeeze and feel your expression softening at just the thought of Sans, still off somewhere settling his nonexistent nerves.

“Don’t worry,” you say, as firmly certain as your entire soul is on the sentiment. “I’m gonna cherish the hell out of these skeletons, no matter what!”

The way Undyne is looking at you now…you’d almost call it impressed.

You could probably stop there and call this a confrontation well-handled, but…

You’re not sure you’ll ever have an opportunity to talk to her again.

You might as well say everything you need to say right now.

“And hey…when Pap comes to visit you, actually see him. I don’t like hearing about the times he wasted a trip, okay?”

In your peripheral vision, you see Papyrus’ cheekbones going blue and he whines your name a little plaintively, but you hold eye-contact with Undyne.

It feels like the right thing to do.

Undyne seems surprised.

And then slowly…she starts to laugh.

“Fuhuhuhuhuhu! Okay…okay, yeah!” She grins at Papyrus, a shark-smile if you’ve ever seen one. “I guess you were right, Papyrus. They’re not a total wimp…for a human!”

You wonder if that’s her way of saying you’ve earned some brownie points with her, too.

One of the humans standing quietly beside Undyne suddenly speaks up. “Ms. Undyne? It’s time.”

She sighs, rolling her visible eye. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever…”

“It Was Good To See You Again, Undyne,” Papyrus chimes in. His smile is wide and after all these years, finally free of the corrective braces.

It brings a very nostalgic look to the former queen’s face.

“You, too, Papyrus. Congrats on doing something cool with your life. Come…come see me again soon, okay?”

“Of Course!”

“And human…” She smirks at you. “Just keep cherishing…or else!”

You give her a cheeky thumbs up and a wink that makes you feel an awful lot like you’re channeling Sans for a second. “You got it!”

That gets you a nod of approval, and in short order, Undyne is led away.

“……I Think She Likes You!” Papyrus decides after a long moment.

You snort. “Is that what that was?”

Whatever Pap says in response, you don’t hear it.

With Undyne’s departure, it’s apparently the perfect time for Papyrus to get swarmed by a whole gaggle of excited and curious people.

Some are monsters, wanting to offering congratulations and ask after the old queen, but a lot are human—fellow graduates from Pap’s class, you realize—impressed that Papyrus was apparently important enough that Undyne herself came to their graduation.

In all the bustle, you end up…kinda trapped, squished up against Papyrus’ legs.

Until he effortlessly scoops you up and sets you down just outside the circle of admirers with a patronizing little pat on the head.

“My Adoring Public Needs Me,” he proclaims grandly, to several fond laughs around him. “You Go Find Sans, I’ll Catch Up With You Later. We Still Have Those Dinner Reservations, I Haven’t Forgotten!”

You almost did, but you accept your mission with a playful salute, already looking forward to the fancy new Italian place you were going out to celebrate at later tonight.

Provided, of course, you can actually find your boyfriend somewhere around here.

Papyrus’ voice stops you again before you get too far, though.

“Oh, And Another Thing I Haven’t Forgotten! I Was Promised A Very Specific Graduation Present!” Oh…that was news to you. “When You Find Him, Tell Him To Quit Being A Snail And Make It Happen, Already!”

You chuckle but say, “Sure thing, Pap!” on your way out.

You hope Sans jotted himself a reminder for this mystery present somewhere or you weren’t gonna be much help to him.

You’ll just have to ask him yourself and you don’t think he’ll be very difficult to find.

After all, he wouldn’t go too far on Pap’s big day, and by now the sun’s been down for awhile.

You can’t think of anywhere else Sans would rather be right now, when he wanted to clear his head, than out under the stars.

-

You don’t miss your guess.

Of course you don’t: after the years you’ve been with him, you know your funnybones.

Sans is sitting there outside in the grass, stroking Buddy’s head in his lap and staring straight up at the night sky.

He looks alright, which makes the ugly knot of compartmentalized concern unravel in your chest. You’re glad tonight’s surprise guest hadn’t shaken him up too badly and you approach him with a smile.

“Hey there, sugar-skull.”

Sans looks up at you and your heart skips a beat. You don’t think you’ll ever get tired of seeing the love in that big, red eye-light of his when he looks at you, or the way it makes you feel warm inside like nothing else ever has.

“Mind if I join you?”

“thought you’d never grassk.”

That startles a laugh out of you.

“Is that a new one?” you wonder, getting down to join him. “I don’t think I’ve heard it before.”

Sans shrugs, but you see him smiling. He loves being able to pull a new pun on you. It’s happening less and less these days, the more you’re together and the more jokes you hear from him, but you never fail to laugh at even the old ones you’ve heard a dozen times before.

Funny’s funny, a joke’s a joke, and from probably your favorite person in the world, the humor never feels stale.

“undyne give ya’ a hard time?”

You shrug right back. “Nothing I couldn’t handle. …Pap thinks she likes me.”

Sans huffs, but he slings his arm around you, pulling you right up against his ribs.

“‘course she does.” His skull settles on top of your head. “you’re the best.”

Sweethearts. You’re surrounded by sweethearts.

You don’t think you’d trade a single one of them for the world.

You spend awhile out there, just cuddling out under the stars.

You point out a constellation or two that you can see, even with the urban light pollution. Sans manages to find his favorite, Scorpius, and you spot…one of? the dippers, and it’s not until you’re arguing about how he can possibly tell, without a telescope, how that particular speck of light could be Cassiopeia A that you remember.

“Oh, wait, shit, I was supposed to remind you!”

“hey, you don’t gotta make up excuses, babe. you can just admit you’re wrong, y’know i ain’t gonna make fun of you for that.”

You smack him lightly on the sternum and he snickers at your ineffective bat. “No, seriously. Papyrus wanted me to tell you something.”

“sure, i completely believe you. what’s the message from ‘Papyrus’?”

You shoot him the fiercest side-eye you can manage. “Pap says he hasn’t forgotten about his graduation present and for you to stop being a snail.”

Whatever response you were expecting, the way Sans stiffens against your side really isn’t it.

“……shit. right. yeah. that.”

“Did you forget?” you wonder, trying to hide your amusement.

“mmm, little bit.”

“I mean…you can teleport. If you need to go get it…”

Sans fidgets a little. “nah, it’s not…i already have the……have for awhile, i just haven’t…gotten around to………”

You make a noise of surprise when Sans stands up, pulling you with him. He looks awfully nervous all of a sudden, even more nervous than when Undyne had shown up.

“Oh jeez, Sans,” you murmur gently. “Relax, I’m sure Pap’ll love it!”

It doesn’t stop the sweat from beading along his skull. “that, uh…that’s the thing, it…it’s not……for Pap, actually. it’s……it’s for you.”

You frown, confused. “Pap’s present…is a present for me?”

“eheheheheh…nah, the…it’s for you, Pap’s part of it is……uh. i ‘stop bein’ a bitch about it.’ direct quote.”

Snrk… Oh, Papyrus…

“Okay. Weird, but okay. So…what is it?”

“………um. so.” Sans looks like if he had a lip, he’d be biting it right about now. “i…found a really cool rock…that i wanted to give ya’…”

Oh!

Sans had great taste in rocks, you couldn’t wait to see it.

“‘cept i…wasn’t really sure when the right…time…was…?” He chuckles a little, his eye-light darting everywhere but you. “human……customs, or, whatever. but…but Pap says i already been draggin’ my feet too long, so, uhh…”

Sans reaches into the pocket of his nice slacks and presents you with…

Oh, a crystal!

And by far, the most beautiful one you’ve ever seen: it’s a gorgeous cyan blue and glowing, actually radiating light in the darkness.

The urge to reach out and touch it is powerful and you just stare at it for a moment completely awed.

But then Sans starts talking.

“i…i got it from, uh…from waterfall. the ceiling. took a little doing, but it…it seemed right. we…monsters, we used to wish on these, y’know? did…did i tell you that?”

“Not in so many words,” you say, but you don’t need words for memories conveyed directly through the soul.

You have a clear picture in your mind of the place he’s talking about, and what it meant to monsters when they were trapped.

“well…we wished on ‘em…like how humans do with stars, for stuff we wanted…things……things we never thought we’d get to have…ever.” Sans goes a little glowy in the cheekbones himself. “stuff that was too important to give up on, no matter…how impossible it was.”

He’s still not looking at you and you have no idea where he’s going with this, but when there’s a long pause, you prompt him to continue.

“Sans…?”

He shakes his skull, like he’s trying to clear an etch-a-sketch, and seems to start again.

“i saw a documentary about…one of the animals ya’ got up here. the little…” He struggles with the name and tries, “tuxedo birds,” and you nod encouragingly that you understand.

Though you can’t for the life of you figure out why he wants to talk about penguins right now.

“it, uh…it said they…when they really want to…be with somebody, what they do is…they, they find a rock and give it to ‘em and that’s how they find their mates.” Sans laughs a little, still with that persistent edge of nervousness. “i dunno, i thought it was pretty cute. monsters don’t…we don’t have nothin’ like that, but i guess…i guess humans do?”

Sans freezes suddenly, like something’s just occurred to him.

“shit,” he mutters. “i’m supposed to be on one knee for this, right? does it matter which knee, or…?”

………

Holy shit.

“Sans, are you…are you proposing…?”

He winces at the question, a rueful expression on his skull.

“jeez……guess i’m doin’ a pretty shit job of it if ya’ gotta ask.”

If your heart skipped a beat before, you actually think it stops this time, just for a second.

Sans is proposing.

He wants to marry you.

He wants you to be a part of his life, always.

“Yes.”

Sans blinks at you, looking startled.

You’re not sure if he actually processed the thing you said or what it meant, so you say it again, as emphatically as you can.

“Yes, Sans, I want to marry you!”

He stares at you just a little bit longer…but you know your answer got through this time.

That traitorous eye-light of his can’t lie, and it’s heart-shaped and adorable.

“heheheheheh…hahahahahaha!”

You laugh, too, as you’re suddenly scooped up off the ground, literally swept right off your feet into his arms as Sans holds you up against him, fervently nuzzling at your face.

You nuzzle back, grinning so widely it actually hurts and pressing smooches against him everywhere you can reach.

Below you, Buddy has taken to darting around and barking, excited by the sudden movements his people are making. You know he has no idea what’s going on, but you’re excited, so??? He’s excited too??? Yes?!?!

Stars, you love your stupid dog-son.

You love your goofy skeleton fiancé.

You see several sudden camera flashes and hear a triumphant, “NYEH-HEH-HEH, FINALLY! YES!” off from the side, and you love your meddling, soon-to-be brother-in-law, too!

It might not be the biggest family, but it’s yours and honestly…?

Your life feels as full as it’s ever been.

You gasp as something utterly delightful occurs to you and you brace your hands against Sans’ shoulders, pulling away just enough to look him in the eye-socket.

“Sans,” you say urgently, “Sans!”

“what?” he asks, frowning a little at your tone. His eye-light pops back to its normal round shape, but if you have your way, that won’t last long.

“Do you know what this means?”

Sans can see you starting to grin, the kind of grin that goes hand-in-hand with his most favorite thing in the world, and his concern falls away.

He spares an insufferably smug smirk over at his poor, unsuspecting brother before turning back to you, as eager as you’ve ever seen him.

“what, baby? what does it mean?”

“When we get married… do you know what that’s gonna make you?”

Sans knows it’s going to be good. He’s practically vibrating again as he asks, “what’s it make me?”

“Sans……you’re gonna be my husbone.”

Papyrus shrieks in dismay, even as Sans’ eye-light blips right back into a heart-shape and he completely loses his mind, hugging you even tighter against him and laughing until delighted tears streak down his skull.

“HUMAN! Stop Ruining This Beautiful Moment For Me!” Papyrus demands, his hands on his hips.

“keep…keep enhancing this beautiful moment for me,” Sans wheezes, nuzzling at your cheek.

Buddy just keeps scurrying around Sans’ feet, jumping up and trying to be part of the action, too.

Pap corrals him for you and comes on in to join your little hug-fest with a hilariously irritated look on his face, saying that you two had better not start this up again at your celebratory graduation-slash-engagement dinner or he'll be very displeased, disowning you both!

This…

This is a very good family to be a part of.

You couldn’t be happier.

Prev Chapter | Snips & Snails

[flydotnet]

Impromptu Nursing

VRAINS Rarepair Weeks 2018-2019 - Day 12: Pets/Sickfic

Summary: Kiku and Takeru have planned on seeing each other after weeks and months of not doing so because of the distance. There is, however, kind of a knack with it: he doesn't show up at their meeting point. Instead, she goes to his place and decides that he needs to be taken care of instead of apologizing to her. 

Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh! VRAINS Ships: Entrustshipping (Takeru/Kiku)

Wordcount: 1.9K words

Notes: Justice for Shoichi, the best wingman ever. YOOOOOO BEST PROMPT IS HERE You gotta have to thank Michevalier for the sudden Entrust inspiration. I'm writing almost the opposite as she does (with my floof and all), so make sure to check her fic too, xoxo, Fly. It's very fluffy for once, considering I slapped a thing from a Cardcaptor Sakura special manga chapter on there for good measure. 

Event hosted by @vrainsrarepairweeks

AO3 version available here.

Winter break’s cold winds blows through Den City as Kiku steps down from her train. Still very little used to the city’s busier atmosphere compared to her countryside hometown, she made sure to plan where she had to meet up with Takeru: a park downtown, in front of a hotdog truck named Café Nagi. He also accompanied the explanation with a picture of some of his friends from the city:  on it, Takeru was smiling, arm wrapped around the shoulder of a blue-haired boy around their age named Yusaku. Right behind them was an older, purple-haired man named Kusanagi who couldn’t be that much older than them.

 Takeru has almost insisted for her to meet them and not just with him. He has told her countless stories about them, how they had all met. His eyes were shimmering whenever he talked about Aoi’s exploits, how they saved Miyu, how Yusaku was a great friend to have, how Kusanagi’s advice was either fantastic or hilariously terrible, and then there was this little guy in his Duel Disk that’d say something witty and she’d giggle. He was so excited for it, how could she not be as excited herself?

And then it turns out he wasn’t at their meeting point.

 She does see Yusaku eating a hotdog and Kusanagi asking what she wants to get for herself, but there is no Takeru to be seen. She has to apologize: she’s sorry, she isn’t here to order anything. At first, the man looks confused, and she wonders if she hasn’t stumbled upon very coincidental identical people. That would be very unfortunate, because she’d have bothered people who have nothing to do with whomever she is searching for. Soon after, however, he remembers what Takeru has told him and greets her with a great smile.

“Oh, you’re Takeru’s childhood friend, ain’t ya? Sorry to tell ya this, but he isn’t here today!”

The astonishment is full on her part.

“Ex… Excuse me?”

“Yeah, he just… didn’t come here, for some reason… He isn’t responding to neither Yusaku or me.”

“Oh, I see…”

 Kusanagi seems down from having to tell her this as her mind starts racing. If Takeru isn’t here, it may be because he’s slipping back into his shut-un lifestyle, and she doesn’t want that to happen again. This is bad…

She’s starting to panic when the hotdog seller’s voice breaks her away from her thoughts and brings her back to reality.

“Hey, I’ve got an idea! Why don’t you go pay him a visit? I’m sure he’d be very happy to see ya!”

“Ah, I’d love to, but I don’t know where Takeru lives here. He hasn’t given me his address…”

“That’s nothing! Gimme two sec’, I’m gonna grab ya a piece of paper and write it there, you can use your phone’s GPS to get there! Don’t forget to give us some news when you’ll be there, okay?”

 Kusanagi doesn’t fail to deliver. Barely minutes later, she’s back on her feet, phone in one and the piece of paper in the other in case her map app bugs on her and she has to input the address again. What a resourceful man… She can perfectly see why Takeru was so happy to introduce him to her. Yusaku didn’t say much, but his little thumb-up to her was very charming to see anyway. They do seem like very nice people, she’s glad Takeru is their friend, that he can count on them when he’d be otherwise isolated in a busy, bustling city. It means he has people to rely on whenever he needs help.

 On the other hand, Kiku feels a great deal of anxiety when she notices Takeru still isn’t responding to her text messages. She has attempted to call him several times since arriving in Den City, sometimes even if just to ask where to go (and have an excuse to hear his voice yet again, goodness she loves hearing his voice so much), but he has never picked up either. At first, she thought he was busy with his friends at the café, and considering how forgetful he was, it was totally plausible. However, knowing he wasn’t there and has never been, she felt shivers going down her spine. It sounds like an ominous recipe for disaster, if you ask her.

She clutches her phone in her hands whenever she isn’t looking at map instructions, hoping it’s just because he’s too busy and is late, but the worried glance Yusaku and Kusanagi exchanged earlier didn’t indicate it was any better than that. Maybe he’ll call her back or respond to her message, so she keeps the vibrator turned on.

Please be alright, Takeru, she often finds herself whispering under her breath as to feel less alone.

 After feels like too much time spent in unknown streets, she finally finds the apartment complex where Takeru lives. Her phone not being able to track his exact position down, she instead relies on instincts and following number logic. His mailbox seems to indicate a floor and a flat number: that hads to be where she’s headed. Even climbing the stairs, as the elevator is broken and out of commission as a result, doesn’t feel like a chore and more like a time loss. She senses that something’s wrong, a feeling that is fogging her mind to the point all she can think about is reaching his flat and know what was wrong. Once facing the door, which she almost misses because her attention has been hindered, her hit isn’t a miss: his name is indeed on the small nameplate next to the door and right over the ringbill.

 There is no immediate response, and she’s very much tempted to ring again, until the door opens and she gets faced by her precious Takeru and his… sickly appearance, to say the least.

She has known him for long enough to know it when his skin is paler, and even then, it’s obvious enough for anyone to see it. A thick red hue covers his otherwise cadaveric face, his glasses are covered in fog (she’s surprised he’s even wearing those…) and there are deep dark rings under his eyes. Sweat is pearling down his temples and his half-opened pyjama top can only mean he’s feeling very hot in early spring.

 “Ah, h-hi, Kiku…” he exhales as he realizes it’s her, a tiny smile appearing on his face.

“Takeru, are you okay?” she immediately asks, not waiting for any answer. “You look terrible!”

He looks on the side, embarrassed, and coughs in his elbow.

“C’mon in… Sorry, I slept through my alarm and…”

“It’s all fine, don’t worry, let’s get you to bed again,” she puts her hands on his shoulders and tries to get him to his room by relying on her instincts alone, but in the end, he still indicates her where to go. The flat itself is small, truly sized for one person, so it doesn’t take her more than a few coughs from him too much to find the bedroom.

 Once she has made sure Takeru was back in bed and propped against pillows, she noticed a little red creature rising from his Duel Disk. It soon disappears back into it, however, and she is left wondering if it was her or it was real. Oh well, it’s not important.

“Have you eaten something yet?” she asks as she mentally makes a list of what she could have to be going out to buy.

“Well, not really, I just got out of bed… And Flame can’t make breakfast…”

Oh, so this was probably the little guy inside his Duel Disk! Takeru has described Flame as before!

“I’ll make you something with what you have then, okay? Your grandparents once told me about what they’d make for you when you were sick!”

 She ran to the kitchen, which seems to be a hybrid with the theorical dining room, and takes a look through the fridge and other places to find a way to make something quickly. She settles for a cup of honey milk, not too big in case he isn’t hungry and warm enough to feel good on the throat, and a moderate bowl of oatmeal. She doesn’t really know why he had this in here, but she’s grateful for it: it’ll be just fine for her sick friend. There is no proper tray to put these on: instead, she just uses something similar found nearby. She isn’t sure what it is, but it can hold a bowl, a mug and the pills she found in his pharmacy.

 Takeru gives her a smile as she puts it on his lap, making sure it isn’t burning to hold.

“Thank you very much, but you really didn’t have to…” he tells her, but she dismisses it quickly.

“Who else was going to take care of you? Your friends had no idea you were missing because you were sick… You should tell them, so they can take care of you when I’ll be back in our hometown…”

He looks at the red mug with blue stripes, holds it in his hands and, after taking a sip, looks back at her and smiles again.

“You remember this mug, Kiku?”

“Of course I do! It’s the one I gave you before you left for Den City!”

Ah, she’s so proud of him too for moving on from the Incident and rebuilding himself!

 This is only for her to get restless again.

“Wait, Takeru, I don’t think you have medicine…”

“I don’t think it’s much more than a cold… Plus, I’m not gonna make you pay for this, seriously, Kiku…”

“I was only able to find fever reducers, but maybe you want cough pills?”

“I’ll be fine, I promise…”

She stares at him with the intensity of a thousand doctors and the legendary force of a hundred grandma’s remedies.

“You’re really sure about that? I saw a convenience store and a pharmacy around the corner, they’re not too far for me to get there…”

 The little laugh she hears from Takeru, slightly soured down by his congested throat but still adorable to hear, almost innocent. She puts a hand on his forehead meanwhile, and sure enough, he has a fever running. It doesn’t seem to bad, however, so she just quickly grabs a washcloth in his bathroom (which is right next to the bedroom, how convenient). Once filled with cold water, she can go back to the bedroom and put it on his forehead.

“Ah, that’s annoying… I’ll have to pay you back again for this too…”

She giggles.

“You don’t owe me anything, silly! I’m glad to make sure you’ll be fine!”

“Can I ask you a last favour, Kiku…?”

His voice sounds more hesitant. Is there something wrong?

“Of course you can.”

“Can you stay with me for the day? Flame is a nice company to have, but you’re even better to have around…”

Her heart skips a beat and her cheeks heat up.

“I’ll stay here as long as I can then!”

 As if synchronized, they take each other’s hand in theirs, fingers sometimes detaching so they can do other stuff on the side, like daling with the tray. They, however, enlace each other almost right afterwards, and she cannot help but feel like a guardian angel at the moment.

Takeru’s grandparents have told her before she was his guardian angel, after all, but never had she pictured that idea so much than now.

[from-the-clouds]

Somewhere Only We Know - Chapter 16

Chapter 15* Playlist * Masterlist

Word Count: 1,900

Warnings: n/a

Tag: @ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff, @maiden-of-gondor @crayonwriting @la-fille-en-aiguilles (let me know if you’d like to be tagged!)

A/N: Okay, so this isn’t a particularly eventful chapter but I had to do some characterization for Y/N and her mother. Ya know, I want to set some nice things up for the chapters to come! Sorry for the break between updates, life is wild sometimes.

April 1944

The guilt that consumed Y/N for the next few days was worse than she could have imagined, seeping from her mind into her body, coursing through her veins. She was sore and tired and regretting every choice she’d made since Collins left the few years before. Her life now was so different, and while she was frolicking around Europe, entertaining crowds, he was in pain, much to her ignorance. Had he told her earlier maybe she wouldn’t feel so bad. But this wasn’t his fault. She’d kept him in the dark, and as she penned draft after draft of what to write back to the man she loved, it became harder and harder for her to find the right words to make everything okay.

Would he be angry if she was honest? Most likely not. But it was her own mind that would make her regret what she’d done, and it already had begun to. Even if he did get upset she had kept her life from him, it was nothing compared to what she was currently doing for herself. Sleep evaded her, she nursed saltine crackers and black tea, as she had no appetite or motivation to prepare food for herself.

When she woke up one morning, her face pressed against a blank piece of paper, a pen loose in her grip as she surveyed the crumpled-up letters she’d attempted the night before, it was the rare sunlight streaming through the curtains in her living room that pulled her briefly out of the tent of self-hatred she’d set up for herself. At least for a moment, she needed to talk to someone else about this. But the only person available, who could possibly give her any proper advice, was the last person she wanted to go to.

Straightening her dress after she’d quickly showered and gotten ready for the day, she raised her hand and knocked on the door. Y/N hadn’t put any effort into making herself look nice, she hadn’t even dried her hair or put on makeup, so she knew she was quite the sight.

It didn’t take long for her to get an answer. Diana opened the door, donned in an apron, her hair impeccably styled away from her face, contrasting with her tired and frumpy-looking daughter. The house smelled amazing, which Y/N had become accustomed to growing up. Y/N wasn’t much of a chef herself, and her appetite suddenly came back with a vengeance at the smell of her mother’s cooking.

“Dear Lord, what the hell happened to you?” her mother asked, quirking an eyebrow.

Despite her initial instinct to fire back, she felt her shoulders slump in defeat under her mother’s disapproving gaze. “Can I just come in?” she asked. “I need to talk to you.”

Diana sensed her change in disposition and stepped to the side to allow her daughter entry.

“I’m surprised to see you at all after you blew off Stephen and I last week,” her mother quipped as Y/N followed her into the kitchen.

“Yeah, well, I wasn’t exactly in the mood to see him considering the circumstances.”

“That was rude,” her mother said, nodding at the breakfast nook in the kitchen. Y/N sat, dejected, staring out the tiny window.

“I know,” she said absentmindedly, unable to find the strength to argue.

Her mother pursed her lips, turning away from the stovetop. “Why are you here, then? I hope it’s to apologize.”

“Not exactly,” Y/N murmured, letting her chin rest on her hand as she leaned on the tabletop. “But if it makes you feel any better, I’m sorry.”

“That wasn’t very sincere,” Diane quipped, turning back around and flipping a page in her cookbook. “I shouldn’t have to ask for an apology.”

“Can you cut me some slack, mother?” Y/N straightened up, her patience waning as her voice cracked. “I need someone to talk to, and you sure as hell aren’t making this easy for me.”

Her mother didn’t respond, focused on chopping vegetables while Y/N sat at the breakfast nook twiddling her thumbs, trying to decide how much she wanted to reveal to her mother and how to even bring it up. A long bout of silence passed before her mother spoke again.

“Stephen was over yesterday.”

“He was?”

“Yes, he wanted me to talk to you about last week, see if I could get you to come around.”

Y/N huffed. “And?”

“I never liked him much to be honest, didn’t think your father did either,” her mother said, not turning around, tossing some chopped celery that hissed as it hit the hot pan. “But you seemed happy.”

“I was young, I knew nothing,” Y/N said flatly, slightly annoyed that their conversation had gone back to Stephen. It was pointless, and meant little to her now. But her mother either didn’t hear her, or chose not to respond, because she was forced to continue the conversation. “What did you say to him?”

“He wanted me to promise that I’d try to get you to call, to meet up with him.”

Y/N scoffed.

“So this is me…..trying,” Diane looked over her shoulder, quirking an eyebrow. This made Y/N smile, slightly, though she knew it resembled more of a pained

“Well, I’m not single,” Y/N responded. And that’s what I’ve been meaning to talk to you about.”

“Jesus, you’re not pregnant, are you?”

“No! God no.” Y/N scrunched her nose, shaking her head. “This is about Jack, mother. You’ve met him.”

He mother was quiet a moment, taking the information in. “You fancied him after all?” her mother asked, looking over his shoulder.

“I’m surprised you couldn’t tell.”

“I could, I was just trying to be polite,” Diane said.

Y/N rolled her eyes but knew better than to say anything. This was really trying her patience, but she had to stay focused on why she was here in the first place. “Well, he’s been away. And I may have ruined it.”

“Are you upset because he’s gone at war? You should have considered that before you got involved with him.”

Y/N’s composure snapped like a rubber band, despite the pep talk she’d been giving herself. “You think I didn’t consider that? It all happened so quickly.” Truth be told, she knew she would have loved Collins regardless, and she didn’t regret loving him now.

“What’s the issue?” her mother asked. “You’ve been here twenty minutes and you’ve yet to really explain why.”

Y/N sighed, tilting her head. “I haven’t been honest with Jack about everything going on in my life. I’ve told him nothing about the shows I’ve been playing or the opportunity in London. I wanted to, but it just felt so wrong, considering the fact that he’s miserable in the trenches somewhere, fighting for us all to go on like normal and I’m frolicking around here doing nothing of substance.”

“Anyways, he was injured again, and he can’t write me so one of his friends did. And now I feel awful because I’ve lied to him for so long about my life. I can’t explain why it makes me feel so guilty.” Y/N shook her head. “I imagined….if we both got out of this safely…I thought maybe he and I would….would get married.”

Y/N didn’t expect herself to start crying. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d opened up to her mother about something so personal and the vulnerability from that and the guilt that’d been eating her apart combined and resulted in tears…. again. It was surprising she hadn’t dehydrated herself from all the crying she’d done over the last few days.

It wasn’t hard to compose herself though, especially not under Diane’s condescending gaze.

“And you don’t need to chastise me, I know I’ve made a mistake,” Y/N spoke up before she could. “Believe me, I’m already insecure enough because of you.”

She feared the worst would come from her mother’s mouth as she finally seemed to stop meddling with her cooking, turning around to face her daughter. Biting the inside of her cheek, her mother appeared angry, ready to unleash everything all at once, but instead she sighed, walking towards Y/N and taking the empty seat at the breakfast nook across from her.

“I’ve always wanted the best for you, Y/N.” She said flatly. “I’ve pushed you hard and haven’t let you rest for that reason.”

“There are other ways to go about-“

“No,” her mother shook her head. “Being nice about doesn’t work.” She scoffed. “Not with you, at least.”

Y/N had to bit her tongue not to respond before her mother did.

“When you were a kid I remember you’d always come inside crying when the neighbor kids played too rough. You’d fall and scrape your knee and I’d comfort you, but you’d always keep wailing. Unless I told you that you were fine.”

“Because you were fine, you knew it. You looked down at the scab on your leg and went right back outside. I didn’t need to coddle you.”

“I knew after your dad passed away, and after Stephen left that you were devastated. But I wasn’t sure what would happen to you if I let you wallow around for years. You wouldn’t put your talent to good use, you’d stay here for the rest of your life and never come out of your shell.”

“When I met Jack, as desperately as you both tried to hide the fact that there was anything between you two it was written so clearly on your face it was almost funny. I didn’t know what to think of him. But he’s the reason you’ve started to play again, am I correct?”

Y/N nodded, swiping her eyes for the few residual tears that had collected on her skin.

“So why do you think this would make him angry? I think you know just as well, if not better, than I do, that if anything, he’d be proud. I don’t think there’s a violent bone in that man’s body.” Diane gave her daughter a weak smile. “In fact, he reminds me a bit of your father, don’t you think?”

Y/N nodded in agreement.

“I am proud of you, Y/N,” she reached out, squeezing her daughter’s hand from across the table. “When I saw you play at the bar the other night, I felt like I was seeing you again for the first time in years.”

Y/N didn’t have many words to say. This was certainly not how she’d expected the conversation to go, she thought, if anything, she would have stormed out in the middle of it. Her mother’s revelation, however, was a lot to process.

“Thank you, mum,” she said quietly, looking down. “That means more than you may think.”

She ended up spending the evening at her mother's, they had a nice meal and talked more before Y/N retired for the evening. Despite the fact that she could have gone to bed then and there, after the advice from her mother she knew what she had to do.

Y/N wrote it all down. Everything she’d been doing for the past year she poured into one letter than ended up being five pages long, even after drafting and cutting out entire paragraphs, it was nearly a novel. Her hand was cramping by the end, but she wanted to finish it so she could get it in the mail by the next day.

She only hoped Collins would have the chance to read it and forgive her, she didn’t know if she could go on without knowing everything between them would be okay.

[jarienn972]

The Right Place - Chapter 10

Since I finally got my other WIP all caught up here on Tumblr, I figured I’d better take a look at this one too which fell two chapters behind those I had up on AO3 and FF.net.  I apologize to anyone who’s been following my stories here for the Tumblr delays and I’m going to try my best not to get so far behind again.

From the beginning on Tumblr:  Prologue/One  Two  Three  Four  Five  Six  Seven  Eight  Nine

This next chapter is definitely a little fluffier than the previous ones but not without it's surprises...

Wednesday Morning, Portland Medical Center

When Killian's regular day nurse, Jackie, came on shift at 7AM, she was pleased to find that his appetite was returning although she was still mildly concerned about his lingering low-grade fever. She'd read the evening nurse's notes that he'd been given permission to try a cup of broth and if he managed to keep that down, they'd try something a little more solid in a few hours. He'd pleaded his case for a shower but the request had to be put on hold until Jackie could speak to Dr. Wallace - needing to be certain that it was safe to disconnect him from all of the machines and monitors - but she promised to bring him the broth while he awaited the doctor's response. He'd hoped to be free of the tubes and wires before Henry returned from the parking garage, but that wouldn't be happening.

His wait did end up being shorter than the nurse had expected though and only minutes after she'd brought him the cup of steaming chicken broth, she returned with a basket of supplies and a stack of towels. In the time she was gone, he'd managed to drink about a third of the liquid – determining quickly that it was much easier to sip it directly from the rim of the bowl rather than to attempt using the spoon. He really wanted to drink it all, but his stomach wasn't on the same page as his head so the rest would have to wait. The nurse didn't appear at all surprised that he hadn't finished it, not even commenting as she set the bowl off to the side so it wouldn't get spilled while she got him ready to bathe.

Figuring the fifteen year-old really didn't want to witness whatever weirdness and hilarity would likely result from his mother's attempt to help his stepfather shower for the first time in days, Emma had sent Henry to the cafeteria for breakfast with instructions not to return for at least half an hour. He eagerly snagged a ten dollar bill from her wallet, promising to bring her back coffee and a cinnamon roll, then hurried out the door. Once the teen was on his way, Jackie drew the privacy curtain and began talking them through everything she was doing as she untethered her patient from the equipment.

"It'll take me just a few minutes to disconnect all of these leads and then I'll remove the old dressings from each of the incisions. The IV has to stay in place, but it's portable. You'll just need to be very careful not to dislodge it," she stated as she went to work peeling away adhesives that held various wires in place – most of which Emma didn't even have the foggiest idea what they'd been for. A few alarms and buzzers sounded as the connections were severed, but the nurse was unfazed, switching off each machine that was no longer in use.

"Now," she continued, "I need you to take a deep breath and hold it for a moment, Mr. Jones. You may experience a little discomfort…" Killian knew precisely what she meant, instinctively holding his breath as the nurse pulled the catheter free. "Okay – you're all set there…"

"That's it?" he exhaled heavily as he asked for confirmation that she was done, not having felt much of anything despite the sensitive nature of the area in question.

"You're free of the catheter," Jackie laughed. "Wasn't so bad now, was it?" Even Emma had to chuckle at the relief evident on Killian's face, quite thankful that this step had actually been quick and painless or he'd likely still be complaining. "Okay – now let's get those bandages off…" Lowering the pale green gown to his waist to access the gauze patch on his chest, she swiftly pulled the tape loose from the edges and removed the entire covering, taking a visual inspection of his sutures to ensure that nothing looked out of the ordinary. "Sutures look great – no seepage or discoloration. Why don't you lean forward a bit so I can get to the dressing on your back now?" He shifted his center of gravity forward so Jackie could reach the entry wound and as he lowered his head, he was able to get his own first look at the surgical incision that stretched across the lower portion of his chest and a portion of his upper abdomen. Considering the narrow blade that had pierced his body, he was surprised at the length of the opening the surgeons had cut into him to reach and repair the internal damage but what had him scrunching his nose in disgust wasn't the wound itself but rather the fact that the medical team had shaved a broad patch of his dark chest hair in order to make that incision. His eyes darted from his shaven chest to his wife's face, glaring at her as she mouthed the words: It will grow back.

"It's not going to be a problem for him to get the stitches wet?" Emma wondered, ignoring his pining over missing chest hairs.

"Not at all. As long as you don't try to scrub over them, it should be perfectly fine. Best advice is just be gentle for the first day or two," Jackie replied as she disposed of the used gauze in the hazardous waste receptacle before going over the rest of her instructions. "Alright, Mr. Jones – now comes my question for you – do you want to attempt to walk to the bathroom or would you prefer if I brought in a transport chair?" His gaze immediately met his wife's, seeking her approval as she'd likely be the one tasked with catching him should he fall on his face.

"I can help get you there if you want to try walking…," Emma answered, already knowing what his intent would be.

"I'd like to attempt using my own two feet then," he insisted.

"Okay then, I'm going to have you get out on this side so you're less likely to get the IV tubing tangled," Jackie responded as she moved around to his right side, reaching over his head to remove the two transparent bags of fluid that hung above him, placing them onto a hook atop a tall metal pole with wheels attached to the bottom. This was apparently what she meant by the IV being portable. "Swing your legs toward me now," she instructed as she tugged away the bedcovers. Eager to be out of the bed for sure this time, he shifted around to let his bare feet drop to the cool tile floor. He grasped the bedside rail tightly, intending to use it for support while Emma positioned herself at his left, her fingers wrapping around his bicep ready to help him take that first tentative step.

"Easy now…," Jackie said as she stood in front of him. "Let's see if you can stand up and hold your balance…"

He quickly realized that standing and remaining that way was a bit more difficult than he'd thought, but damn, it felt good to be standing on his own accord – well, mostly on his own accord. He felt a bit like a fool but after spending three full days in that bed, but he was thoroughly enjoying this freedom – finding himself somewhat amused that this petite little ginger-haired woman was so confidently standing before him as though she'd be fully capable of breaking his fall. He wasn't even certain if his lovely wife – strong as she was – could accomplish that task if he were to lose his balance right now. It also wasn't lost on him that the flimsy gown the hospital provided was covering very little of his person right now, leaving his derriere in full view of anyone who should walk into the room.

"Think you can handle him from here, Mrs. Jones?" Jackie asked.

"I think so. It's not the first time I've had to shoulder his weight," Emma responded with a side-eyed glance toward her husband.

"Just remember to take it slow," the amber-headed nurse reminded them. "Once you get in there, you'll find that there's a flip down shower seat and a handheld showerhead. Make use of them – trust me. Your lungs aren't fully recovered from nearly drowning and you've been inactive for several days so this is going to feel like a lot of exertion. I'll bring a chair when I come back because you'll probably want to use it. Last note – keep the water temperature on the lukewarm side if you can stand it. Don't want the water to be too warm or too cold when fighting off a fever. Now, any questions for me or is there anything you need?"

"I think we're good. I've got soap and shampoo with me and you're already brought us the towels. I brought some of his clothes with me – would it be okay for him to put those on instead of the gowns?"

"Whatever you're comfortable with – just nothing with any metal on it. Dr. Wallace wants to get some new images of his lungs so it'll be off to Radiology when I return so, try not to get too carried away."

What he'd thought would be a simple process – just a simple shower – quickly proved to be anything but. He'd initially foolishly thought that he'd be able to stand but any hope of that happening vanished the moment Emma turned on the water and a sudden panic washed over him – the all-too-recent memories of waves pummeling him flooding back the moment the spray struck his head. Emma had to turn off the faucet and coax him to sit down, eventually climbing into the shower stall with him – clothes and all. With the handheld shower head, she gradually helped him wash off, working her way from his feet back up to his head while he pushed away that momentary fear. By the time she reached his hair, it took three rounds of shampooing and rinsing to remove all of the grime and restore the normal luster and texture of his dark locks.

He apologized to her repeatedly as she helped him to dry off and get dressed first while she stood there dripping wet. She took it in stride, shaking her head and snickering at how ridiculous they looked. As if on cue, they heard a rap on the door and then the voice of nurse Jackie asking if they needed any help – which of course caused both of them to break out in rolling laughter.

"I think we could definitely use a hand," Emma managed to say in between giggles. "Did you bring that chair you mentioned?"

"Have it right here," Jackie replied as the bathroom door opened toward her and the very first thing the nurse saw was a very drenched Emma standing inside the doorway, tee shirt and jeans plastered to her body – well, mostly the front of her body.

"I'd really appreciate it if you could help us get him into that chair so I can dry off and change," Emma said with a chuckle. "This ended up being a lot more complicated than we'd thought and we both ended up getting a shower…"

"Of course. Hang on…," the nurse smiled as Emma stepped out of the way and Jackie brought the wheelchair into the close confines of the bathroom finding her patient much drier than his wife and partially clothed in a pair of navy blue pajama pants. All of his effort to take his simple shower had left him exhausted, his lungs burning as much as if he'd just run the entire length of Main Street and he was struggling to catch his breath. "Let's get you standing for a moment and I'll bring the chair to you…" It took her no time at all to get him situated and once seated, she wheeled him back into the main room while Emma made her way over to the chair by the bed where she'd left her duffel bag, leaving a trail of water droplets in her wake. She pulled out some clean clothes and ducked back into the bathroom to change while Jackie turned her attention to her patient. "How about we get those sutures covered back up while your wife is changing?" the nurse suggested, a notion that Killian was smart enough to realize wasn't actually a choice.

By the time Emma stepped out of the bathroom now clad in black twill pants and an oversized burgundy long sleeved tee shirt, Jackie had replaced the bandages on both of Killian's incisions and was helping him don the heathered dove grey tee shirt that he'd chosen earlier. Were he in Storybrooke, he likely would have selected the long-sleeved button up shirt instead as it fully covered his stumped arm but since everyone here, including Deputy McCallen, had already viewed his deformity and weren't horrified by it, he decided on simplicity.

Emma glanced over at the clock on the wall as she towel-dried her damp hair. It was just after 8:00AM so Regina would be on her way to pick up Henry soon, having promised to be there by 10AM. She hadn't yet heard anything from McCallen although that wasn't entirely surprising considering the number of people he needed to get in contact with this morning regarding the latest revelation in the case. She was certain that he'd let her know as soon as he could, but now that they had a suspect to pursue, Emma found herself growing impatient. She knew who had nearly killed her husband and now all she could think about was how they could catch him.

Killian had decided to stay seated in the wheelchair, not wanting to make the extra effort required to get back into bed before the nurse took him to this Radiology place. He wasn't really certain what that meant and he wasn't about to ask until the nurse stepped out of the room to see if they were ready for him. Once they were alone again, Emma tossed the damp towel onto the foot of the bed and strolled up behind her husband, wrapping her arms loosely around his neck and nuzzling her face into his nearly dry hair before he tilted his head back to gaze up at her.

"I missed this," she smiled as she kissed the center of his forehead.

"Aye, Love," he replied. "I promise, once I am healed, we shall make up for lost time…"

"Let's just focus on that healing part first, okay?" she laughed. "Hopefully, the images will come back clear enough that they'll let you go home."

"About that – what are these Radiology images everyone keeps talking about?"

"Radiology is the name of the science and the department. Basically, they use special machines that are capable of taking pictures of your insides so they can see things like broken bones and in your case, the amount of fluid still affecting your lungs. Don't you remember the X-rays they took of your broken ribs when you were hit by Greg's car during your stand-off with Gold?"

"Swan, there's much I remember about that evening, but alas, I don't recall anyone taking strange X-rated photographs of my innards…"

"X-rays, not X-rated. Very different things and I suppose you probably wouldn't remember. Pretty sure they had you pumped full of pain killers – assuming you were even conscious…"

"So, just how do they manage to take these images?" he wondered, uncertain as to whether he should be expecting invasive poking and prodding or should prepare himself for additional pain.

"It depends. Usually, you lie on a table and they position a special camera above you. I don't exactly know how it works, but it just takes a few minutes and its pretty much painless." She heard his audible sigh of relief at the painless part of her explanation. "If they end up doing an MRI, that's slightly different. It takes a lot longer because they take hundreds of pictures from different angles to get a more detailed image. Maybe Jackie can explain it to you on the way?"

"I'll be certain to ask…," he replied snidely as he heard the door creak open behind them.

"Everybody decent?" Henry called out, unwilling to even take a peek around the curtain until he was sure it was okay to do so.

"Yes – it's okay to come in," Emma responded with a snicker. "I guess we can put this curtain back now too." She gave the fabric a tug and walked it back to its place by the head of the bed but in retracting the curtain, her son threw her a quizzical glance as he noticed her long blonde hair hanging in damp, scraggly strands against her shoulders.

"Guess you decided to shower too?" the teen asked as he extended his hand toward her with an offering of a steaming hot cup of black coffee that Emma immediately snatched up.

"It wasn't exactly planned…," she replied with a mock scowl before breaking into a wide smile, "…but we managed anyway."

"I don't even want to know…," Henry said with an I've already heard too much expression on his face. "Forget I asked."

"We'll spare you all the gory details," she laughed. "But thank you for the coffee."

"No problem," Henry said. "I was going to bring you a cinnamon roll but they were all out and I wasn't sure what else to bring. I knew I wouldn't go wrong with coffee though."

"Absolutely! I'll find something later after I've heard back from Deputy McCallen."

"I wish you'd let me stay and help you out," the teen pleaded.

"I know, but honestly, I want you safely back in Storybrooke," Emma replied firmly. "Now that we have a suspect, the investigation could get a lot more intense and I do not want you to get caught in the middle. As soon as Killian is released from here, he'll be heading back to Storybrooke too."

"But how are you going to get the Jolly Roger back home?" Henry wondered. "She still needs the sail repaired and I don't think Killian will be able to climb the rigging himself right now…"

"The lad has a point…," Killian interrupted. "He does know how to replace the line. I made sure to teach him properly…"

"Let's just deal with catching the man who tried to kill you first. We'll worry about how to get the Jolly Roger back home later. I'm sure we can find some help with that once the rest of this crisis is over."

"Okay, Mom," Henry sighed, still dejected but understanding her point as well.

"Why don't you gather up your stuff?" Emma suggested. "Regina should be here soon and hopefully she won't be in a huge hurry to head back. I've got a favor to ask of her…" Emma started to say something else but was interrupted by a chime from her cell phone on the nightstand. "Hang on a sec…" She scooped up her phone and tapped on the screen to see her notifications, spotting an important message. "That's from McCallen," she read off. "He said Sgt. Haviland from Portland PD is going to meet us here around 9:30AM." That was only a little over an hour from now and roughly the same time that Regina was due to arrive. "You might have to stall your other mom, Kid."

"I can probably manage that," the teen assured her. "As long as Killian is up for a visitor?"

Just before 9AM, the nurse returned to let them know that the Radiology team was ready for Killian and before whisking him away, she advised Emma that they'd be gone for about an hour. Her pirate was still rather bewildered as to what he was about to experience and just a bit displeased that he wouldn't be present when his wife and the young deputy met with Sgt. Haviland so that he could learn more about this Donleavy person. Emma repeatedly assured him that she would fill him in on all details later but he still wasn't satisfied. He wanted to be privy to the investigation – after all, he was the one most afflicted.

Not long after the nurse departed with her griping husband, she received yet another text from McCallen with a request to meet him downstairs in the hospital lobby. She wasn't really sure why the deputy wouldn't just come up to the room so her inclination was to believe that he must have learned something that couldn't be shared in front of Killian - or possibly Henry – so she replied with an agreement to meet him in five minutes. Hopefully it meant he'd found something that would corroborate Killian's account, not further upset him.

She couldn't immediately locate McCallen in the busy lobby but she finally managed to spot him seated on a bench by the floor to ceiling windows to the right of the hospital entrance. He'd changed into jeans and a red plaid flannel shirt that looked as though it could have been proffered from her father's closet but she noted that his demeanor certainly didn't appear as casual as his attire. She zig-zagged her way toward him, dodging people as she drew her still soggy blonde locks back into a ponytail and wrapped a hair tie around them hoping McCallen wouldn't decide to question why she looked as though someone had tried to drown her.

"Sheriff," he greeted her as she rounded the reception desk. "Glad you got my message and were able to come down here a little early."

"No problem. Killian's down in Radiology having X-rays done and my son is getting his things together before going home so I had a few minutes free. Are we still meeting with Sgt. Haviland this morning?"

"Yes, he'll be here in a couple of minutes but I really wanted to go over a few things with you before our colleague gets here."

"Okay… is there something going on that you didn't want my husband to hear?" she wondered.

"No, no – nothing like that. I just have a feeling that Portland PD might insist on taking over this case and since Sheriff Lassiter said to let Haviland take the lead if they want it, I can't promise that they'll include you any longer. I explained how valuable you've been to my investigation, but it'll be up to him. He also might not want my help anymore so I felt I should take a moment to thank you. This case turned out to be a lot more complex than I'd expected and I was really in over my head. I appreciate everything you've done to help me boost my confidence…"

"Aaron…," she started to say that it wasn't necessary, finding herself slightly unnerved by his rambling and even a little bit worried.

"Please, let me finish… I might not get enough nerve to say this again…," McCallen looked more nervous in this moment than he had been since Emma had met the young deputy yesterday. She was concerned that she might have made him a little self-conscious by suddenly using his first name, but he drew in a deep breath and continued. "There was a reason that Sheriff Lassiter originally assigned this case to me – I was originally just tasked with finding out the identity of the John Doe amputee and how he'd ended up on the beach, but that was only because he thought I'd be a kindred spirit or something… I don't know…"

Emma had no idea where McCallen was going with his rambling, but clearly, whatever he was trying to say was important to him so she withheld judgement and allowed him to continue his tale.

"Anyway, the Sheriff thought I'd have more empathy toward your husband because I could relate to his disability…"

"Why would that matter?" Emma asked him, still not certain of the meaning behind his story so far.

"Because even though I spend most of my time sitting behind a desk, Sheriff Lassiter thought I should get a little experience in the field. He thought this would be an easy case for me – identify John Doe, find his family and hopefully learn who wounded him…"

"Okay, McCallen," she sighed. "You've completely lost me here." Her confusion had finally overwhelmed her and she had to know… "What the hell are you talking about?"

"I'm sorry… I know I'm rambling, aren't I? I'm so bad at this…"

"Bad at what?"

"Talking about myself," he sighed.

"Yourself? I'm definitely missing something here…"

"Yes, I'm afraid… There's something I've been trying to hide from you," he lamented. "I didn't want you to think of me as any less of an investigator if you learned they'd assigned a disabled deputy to your husband's case…"

"Disabled?"

McCallen slowly bent over and tugged at the denim of his right pant leg, raising it to reveal a silicone cuff fitted around his ankle and most of his calf. She could see that the bottom of that cuff was fitted to a metal joint which extended into the black leather high-topped combat-style boot he wore.

"I've gotten pretty good at disguising it so I look almost normal walking but just don't ask me to run," he gave her a shy, slightly embarrassed laugh after revealing his secret prosthetic foot and managing to make a joke about it.

"I honestly had no idea…," she replied, surprised by his revelation, but certainly not that he'd still be capable of doing his job. "Actually, I take that back… Yesterday when we drove over to meet with Jean Scott, I thought there was something different but I was honestly so distracted by everything that was going on with Killian that I figured it was just me that was off. Now that I think about it, it's because you were driving with your left foot!"

"Sheriff had that old Taurus modified especially for me – gas pedal on the left instead of the right. He's made sure to find ways to keep me on the job since I lost my foot. Maybe part of it is guilt because it happened while I was on the job, but I'm still grateful he kept me on as a deputy. He was just so certain that this would be a simple case to get me out of the office for a while but look how that turned out…"

"You lost your foot on the job? What happened – if you don't mind me asking?"

"No crocodiles involved here," he chuckled nervously, again wary of making light of his own situation. "I was out on a call one night and it was the beginning of winter and snowing like crazy. I don't remember much but I had my lights and siren on heading through an intersection when I was struck head on by a car driving on the wrong side of the road. The impact pushed the engine block and dashboard forward and while the airbag protected my upper body, my right foot got pinned under there somehow. By the time rescuers were able to cut me out of what was left of the car, I'd lost all feeling and circulation in that foot. Doctors at this same hospital tried to get blood flow back, but ended up having to amputate. It's been about two and a half years now, so in some ways, I'm still adapting, but I was determined that it wasn't going to beat me. I know it plays a huge part in my insecurities, but I try not to let it define me…"

"You know what's funny – for a long time, Killian did define himself by his disability. He used it to his advantage by showing people that he wasn't going to let it stop him and even turned his prosthetic into a weapon of sorts." She had to stop herself there before she accidentally divulged that her husband's preferred prosthetic actually was a weapon. "Now he's trying to just be Killian Jones – husband and deputy Sheriff. His prosthetic hand just an extension of him – nothing more, nothing less." It truly was the way she felt about his hook when he was wearing it and how she looked at his stump when he didn't have it on. It was always still just Killian.

"So, you don't feel like I'm not capable of continuing the investigation? That's part of what Sheriff Lassiter was worried about. He was concerned that I wouldn't be able to handle the case if things got too physical."

"Why would I be worried that you were incapable of seeing this case through to the end? I wouldn't think my husband would be incapable of doing his job with one hand, so why would I think that about your prosthetic foot? If we get into a chase situation, you let me do the running."

"You don't want me off the case then?"

"Of course not. Unless we absolutely have to turn everything over to Sgt. Haviland, I'd prefer we keep working together. You deserve to see this out too."

"Then I won't offer to give up the case – not without a fight. Thank you for trusting me with this, Sheriff."

"You don't need to thank me. Just help me put Donleavy and his cohorts behind bars and that'll be thanks enough."

"Alright then. Let's go see if Haviland is here. He's going to meet us in the parking garage across the street."

"Lead the way." She was more than ready to get this case moving forward.

[astr-aliah]

lights & shadows / drabble

[song inspiration: lights and shadows - O’G3NE]

[[I’ve been going through an insanely rough time recently, and writing has always helped me battle back. What started out as a bit of an exercise spun out into a full-on novel expanding a bit more on Liah’s backstory. I have been lacking confidence in my writing ability lately among other things, but--it may sound cheesy--writing all of this has helped me immensely through my own process. I am so grateful for WE at times like these, if only for a way to express myself. It’s a healing thing, you know? And roleplay groups--for writing, for support--are really invaluable to me for that reason. I love you guys. I hope that you get a similar experience out of WE!

Plus, I recently/finally watched Eurovision and wow O’G3NE killed this. I had to write something.

Thanks.]]

“Hey, why do you look so sad?”

The little girl’s tone, raspy with the various afflictions of street life and unsympathetically curious, caused Liah to plummet out of her thoughts and back down to earth. The runaway Lady’s startled green eyes stared at the grimy alley youth, who clambered up onto the Goldenrod bench beside her with a dismissive shrug. “Just asking,” the girl offered, holding her knees and smirking to herself. “You’ve been sitting in this spot for the last three hours.”

[ At this place they know the game Outside the world will turn and feel the same There in the sunlight ]

It would’ve been easy for Liah to get defensive over this street rat’s brash attitude, but honestly, she was just happy that someone was talking to her. A part of the lady wanted to vent--about how she had run away from the very upbringing that had supported her for 20 years, about how she had no idea where to turn next, about how she ended up here, in the inglorious streets of Goldenrod with her plan’s visions rapidly fading away. The Elders at the Sprout Tower were strict, reclusive, and expected her to follow their paths without exception. However, they had never left her in need, had always supported her, and provided a roof over her orphan head.

On her grand journey to nowhere, Liah hadn’t expected to miss them this much.

But she didn’t relay any of those pent-up emotions to her new curious friend, instead offering the girl a small smile. “I’m just resting,” she finally replied, her voice shaking slightly. “Really, I’m fine.”

“Nuh-uh,” the street youth shot back, her eyes narrowing in a total gotcha moment. “I saw you crying earlier. Big Feraligatr tears. Boo hoo.”

“I was not!” Liah snapped, her fists clenching as her face reddened with shame. “And even if I was, you’d be sad too if you made a bad, life-altering decision that ended up with you lost in the middle of Arceus-knows-where! Just...just leave me alone and stop bothering me! What is this, an interrogation?”

“Nope,” the girl said with a satisfied expression, scooting away slightly as Liah quickly collected herself, muttering apologies for her outburst. “But you’re crying again.”

Gasping, Liah touched her face and felt moisture trickling down her cheeks. Before she could get a word in edgewise, the little truant held up a halting hand.

“There’s a Pokemon Center next to the train station,” she said softly, her eyes back on the ground. “You should go there--this is a pretty rough area for people like you.”

With a sniffle, Liah heeded the girl’s advice with a huff of indignation, leaving the stranger to sprawl across the now-unoccupied bench with a yawn. The Lady would take any advice that she could get at this point--she felt that lost, that alone...

[ On a scale of one to ten You got the biggest score, you’re heaven sent No one will doubt that you’re an angel So what went wrong this time? Hurt nobody, did no crime What’s with the universe? Why you? ] 

“You must be Aliah Aldon! I’ve been told to hold a message for you.”

“Me?” Liah stammered out instinctively, pointing a finger at her own chest. This was not the welcome that she had expected from the beaming nurse behind the counter. “A-are you sure?”

“Yes, no doubt about it! The message came with a picture--they want you to play it in one of our video booths right over there. Sounded pretty urgent,” the smiling clerk noted, handing the lady a wrapped videotape and pointing towards a covered booth. With shaking hands, Liah held the tape to her chest and went to put it into the machine. 

She knew that the tape was from the Sprout Tower--how they had gotten access to such technology, she had no idea--and that they were probably going to be very cross with her. Still, would a lecture be so bad at this point? A part of Liah longed for any words--no matter how angry--from a familiar face. So, with a trembling breath, the lady stuck the video into the slot.

“Brother! Please move! You must point the camera this way! No--you’re going to drop it! Be careful now...!”

[ But you are so much more to me Than the one who carries all the burden I can only hope once you fly you’ll be free... ] 

The video screen flickered to life showing jumbled camera footage, and Liah put a hand to her mouth to quiet her laughing as her fellow Sages, usually so reserved and serious, wrestled with the technology. Even when they finally righted the recording ship, some of them were barely in the frame. All of them wore the same nervous smile.

“Look Liah, we’re not mad at you. We understand that you have different plans, different desires. We’re sorry if we kept you cooped up in that tower for too long, but know this...”

Liah braced herself. Here it comes. 

“...you always have a home here, even if it’s not as an Elder. You’re still our sister, you know? So maybe you can come back and visit sometime-”

Another sage jumped in front of the frame, his round face taking up nearly the whole screen. “...You better visit!”

Liah giggled and sniffled at the same time, tears cascading off her face now. Surely this must be a dream?

The screen suddenly panned to two placid-looking Elders, the masters of the tower. Despite Liah’s apprehension, there was nothing but warmth in each of their eyes.

“Liah, I’m sad that we did not get to say goodbye. And I’m sad that you were so uncomfortable here,” the first one began, his tone resonant and wise. “But most of all, I’m sad that we did not prepare you better for your journey.”

“We have pooled together some funds to send you--it should be in the video package,” the second Elder murmured, his eyes twinkling. “And you deserve every scent. You have been nothing but kind and dedicated to our teachings for the past two decades. It is our turn to reward you.”

“You should have no trouble spreading goodness to people and Pokemon around the world, Aliah. Please carry our messages with you wherever you go, and remember to visit. We miss you very, very much.”

With a last shot of the Elder’s kind eyes and a chorus of good luck, Liahs! the video faded to black--and Liah sat in the booth for a good while, sobbing her eyes out. She had a home to return to after all.

“What is this?”

The girl was still sitting on the bench when Liah returned with a smile and a gigantic shopping bag, offering it to the stranger who had the time to lend an ear to her troubles. Inside the satchel were sets of new clothes, health supplies, candy bars, and PokeBalls. The street rat’s mouth dropped open as Liah insisted that she take it all, free of charge. “Don’t eat the candy bars all at once. I’ve set something up so that you can stay at the Pokemon Center whenever you want. Do be safe, okay? And be careful with those PokeBalls...” the lady fussed before the girl shushed her. 

“Okay, mom,” the street rat teased before breaking out into a genuine smile. The clothes were the right size, the candy bars were impractical, and she didn’t have a Pokemon just yet, but the girl could tell that this odd lady’s heart was in the right place. “...Thanks.”

“Be careful, okay?” Liah said with one last look of concern in her eyes before slinging her bag across her back. The sunset setting over Goldenrod was a brilliant orange hue, and the Lady walked towards it more boldly than ever before--the heavy weight had been lifted off her chest with gusto. “I meant what I said about those candy bars!”

“Whatever!” the girl called back, her mouth already evidently full of chocolate. Liah giggled in spite of herself.

She would continue to lend a helping hand, not only for her own fulfillment, but for the people back in Violet who were all counting on her.

[ Cry no more, feeling all alone and insecure You have been going through these stages Now it’s time to turn the pages We’re gonna stand in line And not give up, but walk that road That everybody goes Through lights and shadows. ]