#and that wendy should not notice the signs until its far too late

[arolesbianism]

Remembered Wendy exists. Explodes.

[sturchling]

An Awfully Big Adventure

Hey! I found an angsty prompt for a Fairy Tail fanfic a while back and have been wanting to write it for a long time. Can't remember where I saw it, but if I figure it out, I'll make sure to tag them in this! Anyways, hope you like it! And if anyone understands the references to the book/movie in this story, you are awesome! 😊

The feeling of the old leather book cover was hardly noticeable to Lucy, as she was engrossed in her book. The book had seen better days, having been damaged from being read over and over. She was so focused on the story, traveling to a far away land only found in the pages of this book, that she didn't notice a certain pink haired wizard coming up behind her. "Lucy! Let's go! I got our next job." But the celestial mage didn't hear him, turning to the next page in the story. Natsu stopped and looked over Lucy's shoulder, reading the next line out loud. "To die would be an awfully big adventure? What does that mean? Sounds stupid." This time Lucy heard him, and jumped at realizing how close he was. Then when it registered what he had said, she jumped to her favorite book's defense, chasing Natsu around the guild hall. "Its not stupid! The hero of the story is cornered by the villain but is still trying to be brave for his friends! He is scared, but doesn't want to scare his friends! This is a great story, with great writing, and don't you dare insult it again! As Lucy stands there, out of breath, Natsu walks up, grabbing her wrist. "Sounds sappy to me. Come on! We have work to do."

Natsu, and Lucy had made camp for the night, just a little ways outside of the town where their job was. Gray, Erza, and Wendy would meet them in the town tomorrow afternoon. While they sat around the fire, Lucy pulled her book out again and read by the fire light. Natsu just stared at her as she was reading for the longest time. Until Lucy finally looked up. "What? Why are you staring at me?" Natsu looked at the tattered book in Lucy's hand. He had seen her reading this book several times before. "Tell me something. Why do you love that book so much? You read it all the time. Surely it gets old after a while." Lucy looks at Natsu, before looking down at the book cover fondly. "Well, its because of the memories I have with this book. This was my mother's favorite story. She would read it all the time, and then finally when I was ten, she read it to me. It was an amazing story filled with adventures and sword fights and even a few pirates. We must have read it together a dozen times." Lucy paused, her smile fading from her face. "But then, mom got sick. So I would read it to her every day. It always made her smile when I did. Not long after that, she passed away. After that, I always kept this book with me and would read it all the time. It was one of the few connections I still had with my mom. Any time I read it, I felt like she was right there with me. I love this book, because my mom loved this book and its a way to still be close with her."

Natsu just sat quietly listening. He understood what Lucy was talking about. It was kind of like him and his scarf. It was a connection to Igneel. Lucy looked back up at Natsu. "Sorry to dump all that on you. I know to you its just a sappy book, but to me its the best book I have ever read. Anyway, we should go to bed. Its late and we have a job in the morning. The two got ready for bed, and Lucy quickly fell asleep. But Natsu decided to do something else. He crept over to Lucy's pack and grabbed the old book. He went and sat back by the fire and turned to the first page. He spent all night reading that book. In the morning, before Lucy woke up, he slipped the book back in her pack and laid on his bed roll. He was exhausted, but he had to admit, it was a good book. Maybe if he had slept instead, he wouldn't have been so tired, and he wouldn't have gotten hurt.

Lucy heard Natsu yell from behind her. They had gone into town to get the information for the job, but were ambushed. The job was a fake, posted by a dark guild that wanted revenge for a Fairy Tail team roughing up their members. It was only Natsu and her in town, the others hadn't arrived. So they were on their own. Natsu had taken the leader, and Lucy was dealing with the others. There weren't that many opponents, so it should have been fine. She had just finished with her opponents when she heard Natsu yell. She whipped around just in time to see the leader's sword go through Natsu's stomach. She stared in horror as Natsu collapsed to the ground. She summoned Loke to keep the leader busy and raced to Natsu's side, praying to anyone who would listen that he was alive.

Lucy dropped to her knees beside Natsu, looking for any signs that he was alive. When she saw that he was breathing, she almost collapsed in relief. But he was bleeding too much from his wounds. She pulled some bandages from her pack and pressed on the wound, earning a groan from Natsu. He started to wake up, and looked at Lucy with eyes fogged by pain. He could see the battle between Loke and the dark guild leader behind her and it wasn't going well. If Lucy stayed here, she would be in serious trouble. "Lucy, listen. You need to go. Run and go find Gray, Erza, and Wendy. They must be close, so it won't be hard to find them. Go!" Lucy didn't even look at him, to focused on stopping the bleeding. "No! If I leave, and don't stop the bleeding, you'll die! I won't let you die." Natsu gave her a pained smile. "To die would be an awfully big adventure." Lucy jolted hearing that line, and looked right at Natsu, tears in her eyes. Natsu grimaced, but smiled at Lucy again. "That's it right? That's the line from that sappy book of yours, right? Hah, nailed it!" Lucy almost lost the grip on the bandages in her shock. "You read the book?" Natsu's smile was becoming more strained as the pain in his stomach grew unbearable. "Last night, didn't finish though. But I got to that line you love so much. And it may be sappy, but its a good story."

Natsu was quickly fading and that was obvious to Lucy. She replaced the now blood soaked bandages and pressed down on the wound again, but it wasn't doing any good. The bandages were quickly soaking through with blood again. Lucy grabbed more bandages, even knowing it was doing no good. She couldn't sit here and do nothing! She just had to keep him alive until Wendy and the others got here. She had to keep trying. Her voice shook as she tried to keep Natsu talking. "Well, then you have to get better. You have to finish the book. We can finish it together. And W-We can go on tons of adventures. Together. All the time, any time you want. Every day for the rest of our lives, will be full of adventure and excitement, okay? I promise, we will have the best adventures of our lives. But you have to get better Natsu. You just have to! Please don't make me break that promise. Just hold on!" Natsu's eyes closed, but he was still smiling. His voice was quiet now, quieter than Lucy had ever heard it. "Yeah, sounds like fun Lucy. Let's go on more adventures..." Natsu trailed off, and Lucy felt her heart stop. "Natsu? Natsu?! Please Natsu, wake up!"

Tears streamed down Lucy's cheeks, but she wouldn't give up. His breathing was slow, as was his heartbeat, but it was there. He was still breathing and his heart was still beating. And that was enough for Lucy. She heard Loke yell from behind her, and felt his gate close. But she wouldn't leave Natsu. If she left, he would bleed to death before Lucy got back. So she stayed focused on Natsu, even as she felt the footsteps of the dark guild leader approach her from behind. He had long since abandoned his sword and started punching Lucy from behind. But Lucy wouldn't let go of Natsu. She would never just let him die. Then, just as darkness started to invade her vision, she heard someone call, "Natsu! Lucy!" She felt a blast of cold behind her, and when she looked, the leader was now completely encased in a blast of ice. She looked at the tree line and saw Gray, Erza and Wendy running toward them. Good. Wendy is here. She will help Natsu. With that last thought, the darkness completely took over Lucy's vision.

When Gray, Erza and Wendy finally got to the two unconscious wizards, they were horrified to see the condition of their friends. Wendy got right to work, healing Natsu as best she could. She was able to stabilize him, but he remained unconscious. Lucy was healed when Wendy recovered, and woke up pretty quickly. Now, Lucy sat by Natsu's bedside in the guild's infirmary. She wouldn't leave his side. She wanted to be here when he woke up. She had started passing the time by reading that old book to him. It seemed silly, but she had always read to her mom when she was sick, and it just seemed right to read to him now. She was about half way through the book, and she had arrived at that scene. Where the hero is cornered and says that line. That line Natsu had said while he lay bleeding in front of her. She instantly started to cry, remembering that horrible day. She hung her head and silently cried. But then she heard a quiet, raspy voice. "Why did you stop reading Lucy?" She whipped her head up and stared into the now open eyes of Natsu Dragneel. "Why did you stop? You were just getting to a good part, and I want to know what happens next. And maybe after you finish the book, we can go on those adventures you promised me?" Lucy smiled, tears of happiness now running down her face. "Yeah. Lets go on an adventure!"

[fanficshiddles]

Butterfly Into Chains, Chapter 1

Summary: Esme is an omega living in a quaint little town, the Alphas of the town are few but they are an asset to the place. Not like the dangerous and rogue-like Alphas that could be found elsewhere. But one day, a pack of Alphas turn up. And they turn Esme’s world upside down. Coaxing her to the ‘dark’ side and whisking her away… To use as their own omega, to breed and own, in every way possible.

Tom Hiddleston, David Tennant, Chris Evans, Michael Fassbender and Benedict Cumberbatch are the suspects in this fic! As usual Tom being the ‘main’ one. Though they’re all pretty involved in this fic. And I know they’re not in it a lot in this first chapter, but just setting the story up…

!!!WARNINGS FOR FUTURE CHAPTERS OF THIS FIC!!!

Rape/Non-con, manipulation, kidnapping, knotting, forced breeding over and over, gangbangs, emotional trauma, selling of babies, almost constantly pregnant, Alpha fights/violence. -

East Meadowridge was a quaint little town. Known for its tranquillity, and was a hot spot for tourists with it being a seaside town. So it wasn’t exactly suspicious when there were strangers going about.

Although, a certain pack of strangers that just arrived were certainly suspicious. They took residence in the most expensive hotel in town, the entire top floor. Albeit there were only two hotels in town, with plenty of B&B’s scattered around the place. It was still odd.

The pack was obviously an Alpha pack. Five of them, all wearing suits and sunglasses, they turned up in two jaguar cars. And they were the talk of the town.

The mayor of Meadowridge worked hard to try and keep the town as peaceful and friendly as possible. The population was mainly betas, with some omegas and some Alphas. But the mayor didn’t allow packs or gangs to form, making sure that crime was kept low.

It was no secret that Alphas could be dangerous and vicious, but not the Alphas of Meadowridge. They were able to coexist with fellow Alphas, betas and omegas peacefully. Even omegas in heat they weren’t bothered by, able to respect them instead of pouncing on them to mate, which most Alphas from elsewhere would do.

So the mayor was always on edge and quick to nip anything in the bud when strange packs turned up. But this was a first for him, having never dealt with an all Alpha pack.

- Esme burst in through the front door, she went flying past her Mum who was cooking dinner in the kitchen.

‘Woah, woah, where’s the fire?’ Her Mum, Wendy, called to her as she started running upstairs.

Esme stopped dead and ran back down, crouching she looked through the bannister at her Mum.

‘Haven’t you heard about what’s going on?’

Her Mum frowned, shaking her head.

‘There’s an all Alpha pack just arrived in town! They’ve rented the entire top floor of the Seaview hotel. Turned up in fancy cars. Katherine and I are away to go and see if we can get a glimpse of them.’ Esme explained quickly, still a little out of breath from running all the way home after work.

‘Esme, wait.’ Her mum said sternly, walking over to the bottom of the stairs with her arms folded over her chest.

Esme cringed, knowing what was about to come.

‘Your father and I have told you plenty of times, Alpha outsiders are dangerous. Especially for a beautiful young omega like yourself. You are not to go near them, do you understand?’ She said firmly.

Esme sighed and rolled her eyes. ‘Yes, Mum.’

‘Good. Now come and help me with dinner.’

‘I just need to get changed and message Katherine first, tell her I’m not coming.’ Esme said and her Mum nodded in agreement.

Esme went to her room and shut the door. She put her handbag down on the bed and went over to the window as she messaged Katherine, telling her she wouldn’t be meeting her anymore.

She went onto Facebook, and noticed on the towns group page that people had taken a few pictures of the Alpha pack arriving in their fancy cars. Esme zoomed in to get a better look at the Alphas, but couldn’t see their faces well because of the sunglasses. But they all looked well built, strong. Stronger than the Alphas that lived in town, that was for sure.

There were a lot of comments under the post. Many of the beta men and few Alphas were commenting that they looked dangerous, to keep an eye on them and protect the omegas of the town. But there were many omegas and also beta women commenting that they looked hot and should be welcomed like every visitor.

‘Well, this is going to cause a bit of a shit storm.’ Esme muttered to herself before getting changed and going downstairs to help her mum with dinner.

It was just about ready when her Dad, Richard, came home from work. He greeted his wife with a kiss and ruffled Esme’s hair.

‘Dad, stop that!’ She grumbled.

He chuckled and sat down at the table. ‘You’ll always be my little girl. No matter how old you get.’

Esme shook her head and started dishing up dinner.

‘How was work today? Busy I imagine, with the new guests.’ Wendy said cautiously as the three of them sat down to eat together.

‘Indeed. The mayor is going ballistic trying to find out information on these guys.’ Richard sighed, shaking his head. ‘But the names they gave at the hotel aren’t giving us anything. If they gave their true names, that is.’

Richard worked closely with the mayor, whilst it meant he got a hefty wage, it also meant long and sometimes gruelling days. Especially when they were dealing with something such as an Alpha pack in town.

‘Maybe they’re just here to enjoy the seaside.’ Esme shrugged.

Richard looked at Esme with concern, then to Wendy. Who looked concerned, too. They both knew there would only be one reason an all Alpha pack was on the move… To find omegas.

‘How’s your work going?’ He asked Esme, to change the subject.

‘We were pretty busy today, but it helps to pass the time more. Now that summer is starting, we are just going to get busier and busier.’ She smiled.

Esme worked down at the carnival, in the ticket booth. She enjoyed it because that’s where all the tourists would flock to, so she got to meet an array of people on a day to day basis. And she was great with people, so it was the perfect job for her.

‘Good, that’s really good.’ Richard nodded.

After dinner, Esme excused herself to her bedroom. She had decided to call Katherine.

‘Oh my god, Esme! You should’ve seen them, they are… wow. I have no words. They’re like Gods! The Alphas here have nothing on these guys!’ Katherine squealed down the phone.

‘Where did you see them? I’m so jealous. My parents wouldn’t let me out.’ Esme huffed as she lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling.

‘I just casually sat on the bench opposite the hotel, looking out to the sea so it wouldn’t seem suspicious. Three of them left and walked right past me, one of them smiled at me too!’ She giggled like a schoolgirl.

‘So not fair. I’ll need to wait until tomorrow to hopefully catch a glimpse of them.’

‘There’s a few of us going to the bar next door to the hotel in an hour, why don’t you come join us?’ Katherine asked.

‘I doubt I’ll be allowed.’

‘You’re not a kid anymore, Es. You’ve got a job and you are twenty for crying out loud! They can’t stop you. They don’t normally mind you going out for drinks.’ Katherine said. ‘Come on. You never know, they might even be there for drinks since they’re staying in that hotel.’

Esme paused, thinking about it for a moment.

‘Ok. You’re right. I’ll meet you there.’ She grinned.

It took an hour for Esme to get ready. She picked out a nice dress and did her hair up nicely. After grabbing her bag, she made her way downstairs and prepared herself for the questions her parents were no doubt going to ask. But she was pleasantly surprised.

‘Off out?’ Richard asked, looking over the back of the sofa.

Wendy paused the TV, waiting for Esme’s answer.

‘Yeah, meeting with Katherine and a few others for some drinks. I might be back late, but I have my key.’ She said, patting her bag as she made her way to the door.

Richard stood up and walked over to the door, meeting her there.

‘Esme. I’d rather you didn’t go out, not while this Alpha pack is in town… Though I won’t stop you meeting your friends. But I do ask, please be careful. And take this with you.’ He went to his jacket that was hanging by the door and pulled out some mace spray from the pocket.

‘Come on, Dad. I won’t need that! I’ll be with my friends.’ She whined.

‘I know, but please. Just take it.’ He grabbed her hand and slipped the mace to her. ‘It would make me feel better.’

Esme could never resist when her Dad pleaded with her and gave her puppy dog eyes. She was lucky and glad they weren’t making a bigger deal out of this.

‘Ok. I’ll take it. Thanks.’ She smiled and went up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. ‘See you in the morning.’

‘Or afternoon, no doubt.’ Richard chuckled, opening the door for her.

‘Yeah, likely!’ Esme laughed as she walked out.

Richard shut the door and pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh.

‘Do you think she will be ok?’ Wendy asked.

Richard went back over and sat down. ‘Yeah, she’s a smart girl. Even when intoxicated she still makes good choices, I am sure she will be fine.’ Richard assured Wendy and gave her arm a squeeze.

-

Even though her Dad was an Alpha, Esme was super glad that he didn’t try and just make her stay home. She knew that in a lot of other places, omegas did obey Alphas without hesitation. Whether they were a family member or not. It was totally different to their town. But this was one of those times she was so glad for, because she was super excited and hopeful that she might catch a glimpse of these mysterious Alphas.

When she met up with Katherine and two other friends, Dani and Liz, the four of them went into the bar that was next to the fancy hotel.

‘Any sign of them yet?’ Esme asked.

‘Nope. I don’t even know if I’d have the guts to speak to them.’ Dani whispered.

‘I just want to see them. It’s so exciting!’ Esme said, beaming from ear to ear.

The four girls sat down at a table near the bar and not too far from the main door. They ordered some drinks and a few shots as well. They didn’t fail to notice that the bar was a little busier than it normally would be on a Thursday night. And it didn’t take a genius to figure out why. Considering it was mainly females that were occupying the seats.

‘Hey, imagine if one of the Alphas wanted our omega here as their own.’ Dani joked to the others, nudging Esme.

‘Don’t even joke about that!’ Esme said, glaring at her.

‘Yeah, poor Mason would be heartbroken.’ Liz said with a smirk.

Esme just grumbled and downed one of her shots. Mason was an Alpha who she had been matched with, thanks to her Dad and the mayor. That’s what happened with the omegas and Alphas of the town, because there weren’t as many, they were paired off. Keeping it all within the town.

It was rare for a Beta and an omega to have an omega or Alpha as a child. But an Alpha and omega were guaranteed to have either or. And if it was an Alpha, at least having both parents from the town meant the Alpha child would grow up to be a calm and caring Alpha, that would be a good asset to the town. In the mayor’s words, anyway.

‘He never even messages me. I’ve met him three times in the last four months and every time he’s just taken me for dinner and walked me home again. Not even a kiss on the cheek. I’m not even sure if I’m attracted to him or not.’ She said honestly.

‘It does suck that they’ve paired you up like that. So glad I’m not an omega!’ Katherine said, taking a sip of her own drink.

The other two agreed with her.

‘If it wasn’t for the test, I wouldn’t even think I was an omega. I have NO feelings towards him, or any other Alpha in this damn place for that matter. They say omegas are supposed to feel submissive and timid around Alphas, well I certainly don’t.’

‘To be fair, the Alphas here are more beta-like.’ Said Liz.

‘True. But still, I thought I would’ve felt something. Maybe the test was false.’

Just as she said that, the door opened and suddenly the place was filled with the most delectable smell she had ever smelled. It was like a mixture of oak and leather, a very masculine smell. Very… Alpha.

Esme turned her head to see who had just came in the door, her eyes widening.

‘Scratch what I just said… I am pure omega.’ She said in awe, watching as the five stranger Alphas strolled into the bar like they owned the place, and every single person in it.

[doginshoe]

Burning Up, Burnt Out

This is my work for the Nalu and Gruvia big bang @nalugruviaevents! I worked alongside @yaushie, who made the beautiful art to go with the fan fiction I wrote. Thanks to @celestial-fire-writer for being beta once again. Summary:  Set in the year after Alvarez and before Lucy's book signing. The team is on a mission to help a native village on a island, but the celebrations afterwards leave Natsu to do some deep thinking about a certain celestial wizard that won’t seem to leave his mind. 

ART BY @yaushie

The fire roared as cinders rose up in the night much like fireflies, stars gleamed in the night sky and the air tasted of smoked meat as the villagers threw their offerings into the large pit of wicked flames. The people cried out as they rejoiced, clapping their hands to the beats played by the drums. The women with sultry eyes moved around the flames like conspiring Wiccans, rising the spirits from the curling fire as they swayed their bodies in erotic and enticing ways. They stretched their arms high and grinded their hips, flicking their legs high in the air as they jumped to then push down and again use their footwork to circle around the fire.

The men sitting at the edge of the cluster of celebration hollered at the women as their skirts sashayed with their sensuous movements. Their tight bandeau leaving the skin of their midriffs exposed and subject to their hungry gazes of wonder and amazement. Many of them would stray just enough from their tight knit group of dancers to caress the cheek of a surrounding watcher, enticing and drawing them in with their deep gazes until they would lean forward in their daze. Then the women would skip back to join the large burning fire - leaving the crowd breathless and entranced. It was a game of cat and mouse and they were teasing minxes.

Natsu, like many others of the audience, watched on. His dark eyes were drawn into the soft exposed skin covered in a soft sheen of sweat, the strong and long legs that kicked up and the way their breasts were barely concealed in an orange fabric that was lined with gold trim. However, it wasn’t all the dancers that grabbed hold of his gaze. It was the billowing blonde hair that caught his breath, the deep brown eyes that occasionally glanced his way. Lucy, who was twisting and turning amongst the other women, had called him in. Her body stirred something in the pit of his stomach as she seemed to move with the fire, embodying the way the flames flickered and curled behind her.

He was completely enraptured. The thrum of the drums and strum of strings reverberating through his body, cutting off the noise of villagers who joined in the festival. Natsu couldn’t tear his gaze from her being, and he knew she had noticed his unwavering stare on her. Lucy grinded her hips more to the music, arched her back just a little bit further to uncover the view of the delicious skin of her neck, but it was her eyes - the way she peered up at him through thick lashes with flushed cheeks - that made him swallow hard and realise that he had been caught.

She knew he was captivated. Her eyes twinkled with mischief as she spun on her feet in rhythm, the deep brown hue making him their victim once again as he was locked in her gaze. He couldn’t count on both his hands and feet how many times her eyes had persuaded him and made his knees weak, lungs breathless - the way they shone when she smiled, crinkling slightly at the side, and sparkling like the stars she beckoned to her side in battle. It was especially painful when they would break in front of him, becoming watery and fragile. Those were times Natsu was lost, when he felt smaller and more vulnerable than when Igneel had disappeared. He couldn’t fight away her sadness. It made him… confused. His heart would feel like stone in his chest as if it had stopped beating and would tumble from its bone cage, a feeling in his throat that threatened to choke him.

She grinned at him. The smile was large as it accompanied her bright eyes, glinting gold from the fire. It pulled Natsu from the thoughts he always found himself puzzled when he looked at the celestial wizard for too long. Her hands clapped above her head before she skipped and flew through the air, her feet coming down to land gracefully before she dipped her body low.

The long blonde locks that had been tied loosely into twin ponytails danced behind her. They shined, illuminated by the flames as they whipped in the fresh night air. The glow reminded him of a far off time, a November sunset - her smile just as wide that day when they had come back from rescuing Macao at Mount Hakobe.

The sun was shining its last rays before it would sink below the horizon. Their shoes scuffing along the cobblestone street as they left the grinning father and son after they successfully brought Macao home to Romeo. The young boy’s shout of thanks echoed in their ears and a small smile still played on the blonde’s lips as they walked beside each other in a comfortable silence. Natsu peered at her from the side. She was strange - that, he was sure of. The newly joined member throwing herself into his business and then complaining every step of the way. Natsu didn’t like people like that. She acted like every other sucker who thought being a mage was a walk in the park and some sort of title that could be thrown around. However, her blind bravery to face the Vulcan alone surprised him; as did her tending to Macao’s wounds and the way she smiled. Natsu had faulted when she had looked back at the snot-nosed kid. He had nearly fallen flat on his face, but he only shook his head slightly, eyes leaving the weirdo to focus back on the path. He hoped Mirajane had something special to eat when he got back.

Natsu tore his gaze from Lucy. The feast before him had been half picked at, which had been extremely unlike him, yet he couldn’t bring himself to pick up another mouthful. Gray was still being patched up by the giggling old crones of the village, much to his dismay, and Erza was at the Chief’s table. He noticed Wendy had been dressed in the same outfit that Lucy was wearing, but she stayed far from the show that transpired in the middle of the village. His dark eyes flicked back up to the blonde as his thoughts drifted back to her. That had been happening a lot lately.

A sigh left his lips, the sound giving life to the muddled thoughts that plagued his mind. The mission had meant to be something for them all to unwind and to let them come back down to reality - to make the war a distant memory. However, the fire dragon slayer had only become more tense. His fists clenched at his side and his chest puffed out as he gritted his teeth. It was his instincts gearing him up for a fight. Yet, he couldn’t beat this down. What was he meant to do?

He gulped as the vulnerable feeling clogged his throat. He had learned, he had grown stronger. Fear didn’t stop him anymore. It was welcomed and used strategically against his opponent. Enemies that seemed impossible were always overcome. Natsu was ready to defeat anything in his way to protect his friends - to make sure their smiles kept true.

Lucy remained a puzzle.

He couldn’t get past it. Her eyes led to his lungs dysfunctioning. Her smiles made his palms sweaty with a heart that just wouldn’t stop pounding. The way she smelled, sweet and like the books she spent so much time with; it pulled him to her.

It made Natsu want to tug at his hair. When he had set out alone he spent most of his nights frustrated as he looked up to the stars, his thoughts drifting to the blonde that he left behind. She always said that they guided her, but Natsu only saw the vast midnight sky. The glinting lights seemed to taunt him rather than to offer solace for his troubles.

The celestial wizard wasn’t in danger and he certainly didn’t consider her to be an enemy. She was much more to him. Lucy was Lucy. Yet, she plagued his mind. It felt like he was missing something. The feeling built in his stomach, a nervousness he didn’t quite understand, and it was wrong. How was he meant to protect her from that? Something that was unknown to him?

Natsu felt the drums pick up speed, the vibrations humming in his veins, as the dance was coming to a close. Lucy clapped her hands as she moved her hips along with the other villagers - the movements absolutely tantalising. And Natsu watched her. His eyes filling with longing as they glazed over. She seemed like a friend to the fire as it bathed her in its light - the flames nearly consuming her as she pushed and pulled her body alongside it.

He could always ignore it. Feign ignorance so he could be welcomed into the bliss that he had lived in before he met her. Things would go back to normal. The simple life. It would be as easy as felling the tree that had begun to bind itself in his ribcage - the centre suffocating his heart. The branches would shrivel and slowly fall, the roots no longer embedding themselves in his bones and he would be free.

A thought he had believed foolishly. Even in the beginning he had tried to ignore her. She was a friend… and that was all. He’d asked her to be his partner because her heart was true. There was nothing else. However. it was the small spark, the tiny little wonder that ebbed at his mind that he should have listened to. Even when he thought he had overcome it, she always made sure to relight it. Always putting herself in harm's way for him, and yet he was meant to be the idiot. Natsu always thought the blonde did stupid things; like when she tried to stop the raft when they were battling the Oracion Seis. The girl had no clue what she was doing, yet she held onto him even as they plummeted down a waterfall.

He could still remember the sick feeling that swam in his stomach as he was swept up in the white rapids - Lucy by his side, her arms wrapped tight around him. No one had ever really cared about his motion sickness. It was always something considered a joke in the guild, a running gag people used to get under his skin. At other times it was an annoyance. If it had been anyone else they would have let the river take him. It was his own fault his stomach couldn’t beat the nauseating waves that rocked his mind. But, she was different. Natsu had never had someone care like she did. Running after him in his weakest moments no matter how pathetic they seemed. He would often think about when they fell from the waterfall. The sound of crashing water filling his ears, blocking out every other noise except his pounding heartbeat until they hit the river below. She’d made him fault again. His mind short circuiting when he looked at her until he could push out an earnest thank you.

The fire called to him as it burned, the flames being his own as he started off the celebration in the village with a mighty fire dragon roar. If all the way back then he had acknowledged the growth then maybe it wouldn’t be a mass of vines and prickly branches that threatened to suffocate him nearly every moment. Instead it had to be crushed into him, literally. Being stuck underneath boulders and watching as she refused to run. The same determination would always flicker in her eyes when he saw her in a fight, always reminding him of the time he could’ve lost her.

“Run for it, Lucy! He’s way stronger than he looks!! I’ll figure something out. Just get out of here!” He shouted, his fingers digging into the dirt as he desperately tried to claw his way out. If she had no magic power then-

“I won’t.”

Natsu stilled as her voice cut through the air, his throat going dry as Kain’s foot came down on her body a moment later, crushing her into the ground. He could barely breathe as she screamed out in agony. He could only watch as she was beaten down. Why wouldn’t she run?

Kain kicked her forward, the blonde gasping for breath as he walked over to her limp and bruised body before gripping onto her hair, the tresses spilling through his fingers as he lifted her up to her knees.

“I don’t want… to run away by myself…” she choked as she began to force a smile through the pain, blood dripping down her chin. Those brown eyes shining before they closed, her smile picking up into a grin. “Because…”

Natsu could only remained frozen in place as Kain pulled her higher into the air, his mind screaming at him to do something, anything, but his body wouldn’t listen. It couldn’t. Even with the weight of the rocks crushing him, her words had left him stiff with shock. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from her as her grin stretched wider and wider, a small blush rising on her cheeks.

“It’s always more fun when we’re together!”

Those words echoed in his heart for a long time after she had said them. It was as if his mind put them on repeat, always bringing him back to that moment at some of the strangest of times. He supposed that was when he really did begin to notice that there was something more with his partner. That moment shattered a wall he didn’t know he had built. He treated everyone at Fairy Tail like family, the people who made the guild a home, and Lucy was the same.

Except…. Lucy herself had become a home. He always found himself coming back to her at the end of a long day. She was comforting, she was strong and she was kind. His partner always managed to find the good in everything. Lucy had become a safe place and he just couldn’t stop himself from always being by her side, or noticing just how small her hands were. Or that little buzz of warmth that would linger when their skin would brush against one another, which seemed to be more often than not.

Natsu sighed as he finally leaned back, he seemed to be the only person not in the spirit of the festivities. He just couldn’t seem to enjoy the celebration even as more people began to join in with the women in the center. Even Wendy was coaxed into joining, Lucy grabbing her hands and pulling her into the group. Their smiles growing brighter as she twirled the younger girl. Everyone was cheering, the beat beginning to shake the table as it grew louder and louder.

After that day he could never stray from her side for too long. Coming back from Tenrou after seven years, he would try and protect her, be someone to rely on like he did with her. Except they were thrown into the Grand Magic Games only a few weeks later where he had to watch her fight and he couldn’t step in. Seeing Minerva torture her as she was defenceless. His hands bled as he had to sit back, nails digging into his palms as he shook with anger.

But, even when he was standing right next to her in front of future Rogue… He had come close to losing her so many times, even when he vowed to be there, just like with all his family. He could never save Lucy. That time would always haunt him. Watching as she fell to the ground, the hand where she had her guild mark... He couldn’t protect her! In two different strands of time he was useless. Lucy’s future was destroyed. She couldn’t be happy.

The tips of his fingers just barely grazed the darkness that took her away. Natsu could barely move as he watched her fall. He was too late. Even if it wasn’t Lucy from his age, from his time. He could’ve saved her. He could’ve fixed everything. It was all too real. If his Lucy wasn’t kneeling beside her he would’ve thought she was actually gone, that the only way he could’ve saved her had slipped right past him.

He knew he had to become stronger. She had dug herself too far into his heart. He would be enough to protect her future. That burned into his resolution when Lucy thanked him, the warmth of her hug still burning where her arms wrapped around him. It was then that he knew she’d always be by his side… because he had a future to protect. He had her future to keep fighting for.

Natsu loved her.

When her body laid limp in his arms, Natsu felt nothing but pain until a snap pulled him into a rage. She was stuck in Dimaria’s suspended time. He knew it now, but seeing her like that - he couldn’t even hear a heartbeat. It was all too much. The future he had promised to fight for, to live for and protect was now lifeless in his arms. That thought alone sent a blinding shock through his system, the feeling taking over his senses as he lost control. It was pathetic, but Natsu let himself to succumb to it. He would have fought the demon that was taking over, the END seed that was planted within him slowly sprouting as it filled him with poison, the whispers sometimes still echoing in his mind. He could only be thankful that Gray, and then Erza, had stepped in his way. They stalled his maniacal mission just long enough for him to collapse into her arms. He was home again and the anger washed away.

No matter what they went through they would always be together. Side by side. It didn’t matter whether they were battling some petty dark guild or stopping the end of the world. Today and everyday would always be an adventure. He knew it when he was falling out of the sky. His body battered from fighting with Acnologia, but a giant grin on his face as he knew who gave him the strength so he could do it.

He could barely contain the grin that pulled on his lips as he bared his teeth. Her eyes were blown wide as she stared at him in shock, Happy was in her arms beaming at him. When she smiled back up at him, tears filling her eyes, he knew that he was home. Lucy was home. The three of them would always be a family. A team.

“I’m home!” He chuckled, his smile beaming even wider.

She opened her mouth, a stray tear dribbling down her cheek as she managed to find her voice. Knowing they had finally won. That they had saved the world. She knew that if anyone could do it, it would be Natsu.

“Welcome home!” She cried and he felt the warmth spread through his chest.

In that moment Natsu knew that he could accomplish anything because he always had someone to return to - his guild, his best friend and a particular blonde that managed to start a fire in his heart.

His eyes were glued to Lucy as the dance came to an end. She kicked her leg into the air, following the rest of the group as they finished the song. The drums were intense as she twisted and moved around the fire, a sheen of sweat making her body shine in the fire light. With every spin and dip the flames seemed to copy her. His flames. Natsu couldn’t stop himself from staring. She had never looked more ethereal than in this moment. Her hair spun like gold thread as she turned with the fire behind her. Her hips drawing him in and alighting the embers in his chest, burning him up from the inside. The way she seemed to almost glow had him captivated - it was as if she was a goddess teasing him. Her long legs making his blood pump as they pulled down before leaping into the air. He had been in love with her since long ago.

The last hit on the drum resounded out in the village as all the dancers raised their hands, their chests rising and falling as their lungs struggled to heave in a breath from the movements of the dance. Her eyes burned into his as she grinned before being engulfed with the crowd. The people’s joyous cries replacing the beat that once hummed throughout the village.

She had been swept away from him as he sat in front of his meal. Natsu clenched his fist, offering his gaze back up to the heavens that could only mock him. The twinkling lights glinting down at him like all those nights before. Natsu cursed as he stood from his spot, glancing back at the blonde to find her and Wendy raised up by the village, the younger girl looking more sick than anything whilst Lucy laughed.

He smiled softly before he walked away. He had spent too much time caught up with the celestial spirit mage. Though he knew that he couldn’t help the pull that she had over him. It was as if Lucy was fire itself - a fire he couldn’t control. Ironic, considering the fact that fire was his to wield and command.

A sigh left his lips as his feet kept him walking to the edge of the village, where he could get away from the noise and away from her. He hoped it would ease the unwanted feelings. Yet, it never did. Natsu knew it, but he still walked - his eyes coming back to the stars as he breathed in the crisp air. When he exhaled the puff of air, it came out as smoke.

Tonight, seeing Lucy move that way, was almost earth shattering. She’d stirred up the heat in his chest once again, setting him alight and raising the flames higher and higher with every movement she made alongside the bonfire behind her. It was completely mesmerising. The heat seemed to lick at her skin and embody her very being. It only made the feelings harder to ignore as the embers rose into a wildfire.

Natsu wanted her. Lucy was just… Lucy. She was so good to him, so tantalisingly good that it made him feel weak at the knees. That vulnerable feeling that ate him up was because she made him feel like he was going to lose control. He wanted to hold her close, feel her soft flesh against his and breathe in that sent that made his mind go blank. She was everything to him. The blonde that had treated him to a meal all those years ago becoming someone he didn’t want to live without - someone he couldn't.

Natsu had to steady himself against a tree on the outskirts of the village, his heart rate becoming erratic when he thought of everything he wanted with Lucy. He wanted them to spend every moment together, each day planned with Lucy and leading her off to one mission then the next. However, as time passed he soon noticed that his plans with the blonde took at different turn. The thought of her soft pink lips and smooth skin playing on his mind. That was what had control of him now. The idea of her wrapped in his flames as he took her hard. The blush on her cheeks and how her mouth would part in a soft moan - it all made him feverish.

He was caught in a mess, Natsu shaking his head as he tried to collect his thoughts with a deep breath. He wanted Lucy, no, needed her. She had lit a fire that couldn’t be put out and he couldn’t wait to pull her into his chest and crash his lips onto her own. He loved her and by gods it was time she knew.

He had to tell her, his feet pushing him forward to where the team took rest. This feeling - the jitters that spun webs in his gut - only ushered him to continue forward and quickened his pace. He knew that Lucy was different, he had known from the very start. It had scared him. Igneel never mentioned anything to do with love. Even Makarov had only taught him one important lesson that he kept for the rest of his life, to love your family and to keep them safe.

The torches lit his way as he stumbled past people who had gotten too ahead of themselves in the festivities. Except as he rounded a corner and heard her laugh - his steps picked up into a sprint. The time was now, this is what he needed to do.

“Luc-”

Yet in all his resolve, he found himself pausing. There she was. His partner, but she wasn’t alone. He watched as she laughed, the sweet sound resonating in his ears, while waving away Happy. His best friend breezed up in the air as he yelled at the blonde. The faint traces of their conversation tell him that she’d insulted his chances of ever being the right man for Charla.

Now was his chance, but Natsu couldn't bring himself to take another step. Maybe it was the jittery nerves finally freezing up his muscles, or that she had made him falter again. All he knew was that as he watched his team, no - his family - he felt complete in a way that he hadn’t felt in a long, long time.

Lucy was softly smiling as she patted Happy on the back. Her outfit from the dance was gone. It was just her. It was Lucy. Her hair had been taken back up into her pony tail that she had started wearing when he had left her for a year. Her keys were placed on the right side of her hip, the usual brown belt holding them in place. Although she had grown over the years, the blonde hair now reaching past her shoulders and her outfits always being swapped, she was still the same. Her brown eyes were still kind. Their depths drawing him in every time he stared in them for too long, Just like everyone else, she would fight till her last breath for their guild - for him. Lucy was home.

As he watched them, the fire that had been burning so fiercely only blazed brighter. For so long he had been fighting it, thinking the roots that nearly suffocated him would form a forest and leave him in the dark. Now he felt as if he could breathe easier than ever before. This was his team, his family.

Natsu barely registered what was happening before he slipped his arms around both their shoulders, pulling his partners to him in a crushing side hug. His words left his lips as naturally as all the other times before.

“Whatcha guys doing?”

Happy cried out, “Natsu!” but he barely heard his partner as he felt a familiar pair of brown eyes staring at his face. It was Lucy, peering up at him with that concerned look she always wore. 

“Where have you been? I was looking all over for you after the dance, but you were gone.”

She blinked and when Natsu turned he felt that familiar sensation, the second where his brain stopped functioning for just a moment. Those eyes would really be the death of him.

A wide grin crept up on his face, his canines flashing at her as he pulled them along forward. “I’ve been here weirdo. Don’t tell me you’re going blind now too,” he spoke before his gaze turned forward, “Come on! I heard there’s leftovers.”

“Aye!” Happy cheered as he flew from Natsu’s grip into the air, leaving him with just his arm around the blonde that nearly gave him heart palpitations. He felt the nervousness begin to swim in his gut, he knew she’d keep asking questions. The blonde blinked and to his surprise a soft laugh left her lips, her hand coming up to hide her face before she smiled.

“Yeah, I am still a bit hungry,” she breathed as she wiped her brow, “That dancing was really hard.”

Natu’s grin stretched even wider, if it was possible, as he raised his hand into the air. “To the leftovers!” he shouted, and his partners echoed his words before they dashed off. The task becoming a race in a few short moments that was soon joined in by Gray. Though, they didn’t get to destroy anything before Erza had stepped in with a giggling Wendy in tow. He grumbled as he rubbed the beginnings of what was soon to become an egg on his head, but a sweet melody lifted him from his troubles. He stared up to the smiling blonde and the grin came up on his face again.

This was his family, and he could still love Lucy. He didn’t need to change anything.

We’ll be together forever from now on

[raindrop-on-a-spiderweb]

Equilibrium

Bonus chapter centering on if Patience had the wrong man's baby.

***

There was always that small chance.

One percent out of a hundred. Fifty. Eighty. No matter how you explained the dates away. Some complex medical explanation, overlong expectancy, miscalculation.

One small chance. Needle in a haystack.

***

When the baby came out--wrapped in a caul that Wendy had to break with a scalpel--it was perfectly formed, small and weak, with a full head of black hair. Holding the small thing in her arms as it commenced the first, healthy wail of a newborn, Wendy felt something cold creep over her back.

Mr. Borghese was standing there, arms held out and a plaintive smile on his face, "Can I see her?"

Wendy was frozen, the baby dangling from her arms, and Borghese took a domineering step forward and reached for the covering it was swaddled in.

Wendy could pinpoint the moment in which he realised the child wasn't his. The hair was too dark to be the chestnut bay of its mother. His face was frozen in the warm anticipation of a father holding his child, still like a mirror image. His eyes were a bottomless swamp.

"Perhaps could I hold her?" His voice broke into her ears.

"No," said Wendy almost immediately. She clutched the baby tight. "It needs to--be weighed and checked first."

***

Today was Borghese's last speech, but he didn't show up. He made no comment as Nizzola dropped put of the race. Garland City was lost and confused.

Wendy watched it at home, listening to her son bustling around in the kitchen. Buster was a good boy, taking over the house duties without a complaint when his father died. He had high marks in school and wanted to join the Marines. She was proud of him

Watching the flustered commentary of Borghese's campaign manager, she wondered how he was feeling. She remembered the serpent look on his face as he rounded on her--if they both die, you both die--and then the dead look as he beheld the nameless child. She felt a sudden wave of fear come over her.

"Buster?"

"Yes, ma?"

"I'm going in for another shift at the hospital tonight. Keep an eye on the house and don't stay up too late."

She clocked in in the middle of the night and made her way to the baby's ward. The emptoness of the halls was familiar but strangely strangely unnerving. She went to check the baby ward.

Wendy felt an immediate prickle on the back of her neck as she approached. The ward was usually empty, save for this sole child. The lights were switched off, as they should be. As she passed, she noticed a shadowy figure standing over the one occupied crib.

Her heart went into overdrive. She hurriedly switched the light on and rushed in. Some heightened part of her wanted to attack the figure, but instead she hurried to the baby's side and swept it up. "What are you doing here so late? It's time for the baby to... to get her checkup."

She was expecting him to see right through her hurried excuse, but his eyes were far away. He stared quietly at the baby in her arms. He looked disheveled. "I just wanted to hold her."

"You can, after we--we take her blood pressure We'll bring her right back," she lied.

Wendy clutched the wailing baby to her chest, feeling the blank, penetrating gaze on her back. She felt like she was turning her back on a lion. The baby had been pressed against the pillows face-down. The babies were never put down like that. It could lead to... suffocation.

She could imagine his eyes, blue as a shattered robins egg, as he pressed the child's sleeping face into the soft, smothering pillow, his eyes showing that certain blank, and yet concentrated sanity.

It had no birth certificate. Borghese refused to sign it. If it died tonight, there would be no record. No evidence of its existence save for a young woman's body torn open in another room.

Some primal mother instinct made Wendy clutch the child tight. She stayed by its side during the whole night, performing meaningless tests and keeping it warm and fed, making sure she watched over it each and every second. She snipped off the shrivelled umbilical cord and changed its diaper and swaddled it. It became clear to her that it was a girl. Out of a fear to not let it vanish if it disappeared the next morning, she took out a birth certificate and noted a name on it, the name the girl who had given birth to it had groaned out.

Darla.

***

The next day she delivered it into the arms of its mother. The woman was young--she looked all of fourteen, and Wendy desperately hoped she wasn't. Her pale face lit up when her black-haired daughter was placed into her arms. "Here's your little girl."

"Darla," the girl whispered, holding the infant to her small breast. She really was so young, wasn't she? The baby had to nose until it found the nipples. The girl's face was relaxed in the vacant, blissful post-birth way many mothers were. Then something dawned on her.

The fear that crept over the girl's pale freckled face was slow, dead, like a shadow falling across her face. She looked down at her newborn daugher like she was looking at a dying animal nestled on her arm, then looked up at Wendy.

Her eyes were filled with tears.

"No," she said.

Wendy didn't know what to say.

The girl was shaking hard, her voice trembling like she had a gun to her head. Her eyes dripped tears of fear.

The girl wasn't speaking. Her breakdown was entirely internal. She held her daughter tight to her chest, her eyes dripping tears down her nose as her body trembled like she was bejng electrocuted.

"Do you need formula?" Asked Wendy gently. "Do you want to be alone? We can take your daughter--"

"No!" She was on the verge of screaming. "No, please, no, don't take her away--not my--no. No." She was on the verge of hysterics.

Wendy wanted to reassure her that she was safe, but she would be lying and the girl would know it. Sooner or later Borghese would come back. And after that. And after that...

Wendy did not know who she was to him. But the fact that he was the mayor, and she was a young woman who she knew nothing about, did not bode well. There was something dark lurking behind them, something she wasn't comfortable digging into for the sake of her safety and her son's.

***

"I'm a cousin," said the man.

One look and Wendy knew who he was. The pitch-black hair was one thing. The virulent, insanely PERSONAL fury behind his facade was another. The man could not hide it. His fingernails bit into the ceramic tae, his eyes black and bloodshot and livid.

For a moment she wondered whether she should send him back. But while his overwhelming, hot anger was one thing--it burned, was overwhelmingly emotional. Borghese's didn't. Borghese's anger was cold and methodical, and scared her more than anything she had ever seen.

"She's in room 42," she told the father of the child softly. The man stood up, tall and wiry and furious with a paranoid bonfire in his eyes. Wendy stood at the desk for too long, until her legs hurt, tense and waiting to hear a high scream for help.

Wendy went back and shuffled her files, ears pricked. What if the girl was being strangled to death, her face choked and blue? What if he wasn't the father at all? Wendy made up her mind, she would go back there--

Finally, she heard the click of leather shoes, a soft gait where it had previously been heavy. The black-haired man emerged from the hall, carefully cradling the small bundle of a newborn on his hands.

The change in his posture was evident. It was as if the fury, the terrifying tenseness, had been washed away. He stared down with a half-startled, half-adoring look on his face, the child wrapped securely in his arms. The baby was wiggling, not used to being away from its mother. Wendy felt a sudden pang of worry, and didn't want to let them leave. Her motherly instinct had come back full force when she saw little Darla, and she didn't want to let her out of her sight.

"She's too young. Sir, you should put her back."

The man started, then looked at her. "She'll be fine. My mother had three children--she'll know what to do. My Darla will be fine."

Against her worrying, he gently carried what had to be his daughter out of the building. Every molecule of "nurse" in Wendy's body wanted to chase him. Down, but something more cautious and dark made her hold back. Perhaps the primeval female sense that had kept young safe for hundreds of years. A sixth sense, one more informed by the innate mistrust of the blond man who everyone seemed to trust.

Wendy gave the man on Room 5 his lunch, checked his IV, and scheduled release for him tomorrow. The man in Room 31 was near death from a bullet wound, and she did a quick packing up his belongings to prepare for his passing.

She visited the girl to bring her dinner, and she was curled up on the side of her bed, arms loosely wrapped around her body. Her eyes were dry, and her eyes staring into space.

The girl didn't react to Wendy's gentle pleas for her to eat. She didn't respond at all, not a blink or a twitch. All she did was look into space, her eyes glazed and blank.

Wendy left the tray there and left for the door. In the doorway she heard a small whisper. "Please, Mrs. Ledbettter."

Wendy stopped, one hand on the side of the door.

"Please say it died," she said. "When he asks--please. Please say it died."

***

The next day the door to the hospital swung open and a well-groomed man with a million dollar smile and his blond hair slicked back came in. "Buongiorno, Mrs. Ledbetter. How have things been since I've been gone?"

He had given his delayed speech over the radio to millions of cheers. Wendy had shut it off as soon as she heard it come on the radio.

The calmness of his voice sent her mind into a peculiar spiral. She felt helpless letting him in the hospital, knowing whatever he did she could not prevent. "Mr. Borghese, I have some bad news."

His dark eyes flicked up as he jotted his name down, and his pen stilled. "Is she alright?" His voice was quiet, but his eyes fixed on her with pitch-black pupils, unwaveringly blank.

"The girl is... the baby isn't."

"Oh, dear. What happened to the poor thing?"

"Ahh, it had a... breathing problem, and it... didn't survive." Wendy thought of the frail girl in the back, and then the dark-haired man with her child in his arms. Wendy's eyes became blurry, and she blinked some tears away. Please be safe, Darla.

Leonardo was looking at her closely, and as a trickle of a tear wormed its way down her cheek, he appeared mollified. "How awful. The mother must be disconsolate."

"She's not taking it well. I'm afraid she needs to be alone, for the duration of the birth, to prevent infection. Perhaps in a few weeks--"

"Women in my country give birth and are working in the fields the next day. A woman's body is very durable." He finished and snapped the visitor's log closed. "I'm sure she'll need comfort and support during this trying time."

Wendy could do nothing but watch him pass her toward the main hall of the hospital

He paused in the doorway. "Incidentally, I don't want any interruptions. No matter what you hear. Stay out of her room until I leave."

With his last words, all she heard heard was the click of his polished shoes on the linoleum. She stared at the visitor's log book, at the loopy, calligraphic signature on the bottom of the page, then she closed the book and went into the back room and put her head in her hands, and did not get up even when a high, shrill wail began to echo through the hospital.

[serenitysilverfantasyworld]

Natsu X Lucy Fanfiction- Unlocked Feelings

Lucy wasn’t so sure when her feelings for Natsu started to change, but once everything with Zerrif and Acnologia came to its end when Lucy met Natsu’s eyes her heart sighed in relief. When he disappeared it felt like her heart would break every second she didn’t see him come back.

It’s been three months since that day and Fairy Tail was more popular than ever. After mulling her feelings over in her head this past months Lucy was resolved to telling Natsu how she truly felt, but she was worried that he wouldn’t understand.

He probably only considers us as friends and nothing more.

Lucy sighed as she entered the guild hall, it was loud as usual as she made her way to the job board to look for her next mission. There hasn’t been too many high paying missions lately and she was really hoping to score a big one so she could pay her rent this month, finding nothing she sighed and sat at the bar where Mirajane was serving booze to Cana.

“Why so down Lucy?” Mirajane asked.

“I don’t think I’ll make rent this month.” Lucy sighed her forehead resting on the bar.

“I don’t think you need to worry about that this time Lucy.” The familiar voice of Natsu said behind her placing a large bag on money on bar next to her.

Lucy’s eyes widen. “Natsu how..?”

“Just got back from a job with Gajeel and Wendy.”

“Oh Natsu! Thank you so much!” Lucy leapt from her bar stool. Natsu wasn’t expecting that reaction and ended up being tackled by her.

“It’s the least I could do, considering that I crash there a lot.” Natsu replied as they both stand back up.

Lucy built up her courage and as Natsu was about to walk away she grabbed his hand. “Wait.” She stammered her face flushing pink. She looked up at him sheepishly, “would you consider, maybe, staying at my place all the time?” Lucy stammered.

An audible gasp is heard throughout the room, they had an audience.

“Uh…sure.” Natsu replied shrugging, not really getting the deeper meaning of what she was saying.

Lucy took a deep breath. “Natsu.” Lucy stated, a little sternly.

Natsu flinched back as far as he could, his hand still in hers. “What?”

“I like you Natsu, not as a partner, but as something more than that.” Lucy paused. “I think I’ve fallen in love with you Natsu!” Lucy shouted, her built up anxiety over telling him her true feelings causing her to blurt it out loud at last.

Silence echoed throughout the guild hall as Lucy looked up at Natsu, his brows knit into a confused curve. He just stood there gawking, and Lucy knew that he didn’t understand what she said. Her heart twinged as she released his hand. “I’m sorry.” She stammered, holding back the tears as she sprinted out of the guild hall.

As the door slammed behind Lucy the guild hall erupted in gossip about what transpired and those that weren’t particularly interested or too drunk went about their business.

Natsu stood their dumbfounded at the bar as Erza charged towards him from the other end of the guild hall.

“NATSU!!!” Erza shouted.

Natsu shied away behind the bar.

“How could you just stand their like an idiot when Lucy poured her heart out to you.” Erza posed dramatically as she continued. “The sweet angel of light that is Lucy has fallen hopelessly in love in you, her mind always thinking about you and the future you two could have together as a happy couple. And what do you do?” Erza asks looking back at Natsu, still cowering behind the bar. “You stood their dumbfounded!” She shouted angrily.

After calming down Erza asked calmly. “Do you even like her back?”

“You mean as a friend?” Natsu asked his head tilted, a confused expression on his face.

Erza, Levy, Mirajane, Juvia, Happy, and Grey all slap their hands to their foreheads at the same time, sighing exasperatedly.

“Ah sweetie, you’re so innocent.” Mirajane sighed rubbing his back gently.

“Um…” Natsu hummed, his confusion climbing.

“A real man loves a woman in a manly fashion!” Elfman shouted, raising his fists in the air.

“Brother shh! Come here Natsu, let me explain this to you.” Lisana said grabbing his arm, pulling him into an empty room upstairs.

“Lisana..?” Natsu asked his cheeks flushed slightly.

“You are so dense!!!” Lisana shouted once the door was closed.

“How?” Natsu asked.

“Do you remember when we were kids and I said I loved you?” Lisana asked.

“Yea.” Natsu replied.

“Well when you love someone it means that you want to be more than friends with that person.”

“So she wants to be good friends with me?” Natsu asked.

“Natsu.” LIsana sighed, pressing her fingers into her temples. “Ok, you know how Juvia and Grey just started dating each other?”

“Yea?”

“Do you know why people would date each other?”

“Not really..” Natsu replied.

“Well, the reason people would date each other and ultimately marry each other like Mirajane and Laxus just did is because they love each other.”

Natsu looked confused at Lisana as she continued.

“So, what I’m trying to say is.” Lisana paused, “Lucy loves you Natsu and from what I understand wants to date you.”

“Date me?” Natsu asked.

“You know, like holding hands when walking together. Taking her to nice restaurants, giving her gifts to show your love for her. Kissing each other under the moonlit sky.” LIsana sighed gazing off into space.

Natsu’s eyes widen in realization Lucy loves me..?

“Do you get it now Natsu?” Lisana asked.

“I think so.” Natsu said pacing across the room. “But do I love her?” He asked out loud. “How can I tell?”

“Well, during that one mission where Lucy was kidnapped and tortured what did you feel?”

“Anger.”

“Weren’t you also worried for Lucy?” Lisana coaxed.

Natsu gazed off thinking back on that day. “Yea I guess I was.”

“Natsu, that’s a sign that you love her.” Lisana said gazing at him softly as his eyes widened.

“You’re right,” Natsu said as his mind flashed back through the moments he and Lucy had, during those flashbacks Natsu could feel a warmth throughout his chest. I love Lucy… I got to tell her. He thought to himself running out of the room and into the guild hall. Once there he noticed that Lucy left the bag of money on the bar, he grabbed the bag and ran out of the guild hall.

“Lucy!” Natsu shouted, using his nose to track her scent. He ran through the streets of Magnolia where Lucy’s scent lead him to her apartment. “Lucy, you in there?”

Lucy, curled into a ball on her bed remained silent, tears streaming down her cheeks. I don’t want to see you right now. Lucy thought to herself as she tightened her grip around her legs.

“C’mon Lucy, open up. I know you’re in there.”

“I’m fine Natsu just go away!” Lucy shouted keeping her voice steady through the tears.

“I can smell the tears Lucy, just open up already.”

“It’s not tears Natsu, I summoned Aquarius over.” Lucy said back, as she heard the window in the living room open.

“C’mon Lucy just talk with me.” Natsu said standing in the doorway of her bedroom.

“Ok, I’ll bite.” Lucy replied wiping the tear streaks off her cheeks. “What?”

“So, about what you said earlier.”

“Alright, I’ll stop you right there.” Lucy said holding her hand up to silence him as she walked past him to the living room. “Just forget I said it alright.” She walked over to the kitchen to grab a glass of water, downing it quickly.

“I won’t forget it.” Natsu said setting the bag of money down on the counter.

“Well you’d better because I already have.” She replied walking over to the couch, wishing beyond anything that what she said was true. Her heart ached now meeting Natsu’s eyes so she kept them low.

“You and I both know that’s not true.” Natsu said sitting next to her. “Just hear me out.”

“Fine.” Lucy said keeping her head down, her eyes gazing at her hands clasped tightly in her lap.

“So Lisana helped me understand something I don’t fully understand.”

“I see.” Lucy muttered. She knew full well from the several girl’s nights with Levy, Erza, Juvia, and Lisana that Lisana has always had a thing for Natsu. They used to play husband and wife when they were kids for goodness sake, how was she going to ever compete with that? Lisana is beautiful, powerful transmutation magic, and more history with him than she could only dream of having with him. “She told you she loved you didn’t she?” Lucy asked, her voice cracking.

“No she didn’t.” Natsu stated. “In fact she scolded me, told me I was dense. I guess now that she’s said that I understand how I’ve been dense.” He paused, taking a deep breath. “I’m sorry I was a bit dumbfounded earlier, I uh…didn’t understand what you said as I should have.”

“What do you mean?” Lucy asked looking up at him and was surprised to see his face inches from hers. Her face flushed bright red and she scurried as far away from him as she could on the small couch.

“Lucy,” Natsu said, his gaze the most serious one she has ever seen on his face ever. “Will you help me learn what love is?”

“Um… excuse me?” Lucy asked, confused.

“Well, I know that I have feelings for you. I am just unsure how to use these feelings I have for you, so that’s where I need your help. Please Lucy,” Natsu begged folding in half, his nose touching the couch. “I want to give us a try.”

Lucy’s eyes widened at the last thing Natsu said, “You want to be…” Lucy trailed off as Natsu finished her sentence.

“I want you to be my girlfriend Lucy it will be hard at first, but I will try to make you happy.”

Lucy felt her heart skip a beat, her breath caught in her chest. “Yes.” She replied, her heart soaring through the roof, her excitement skyrocketing. “Yes, yes yes!!!” In her excitement she embraced him tightly. As her initial excitement wore off she slowly pulled away and noticed how close their faces really were. Her cheeks flushed but stayed where she was, her arms lightly around Natsu’s neck looking softly into Natsu’s eyes.

“So,” Natsu stammered. “What do we do now?”

“Well, I think it all should start with this.” Lucy whispered as she leaned in closer until their lips touched gently. Lucy could feel her heart flutter as she pressed her lips a little more into his.

Natsu could feel a fire burning deep in his chest as Lucy’s lips touched his. As if of their own accord his arms wrapped around her waist, his lips moving in sync with hers. His heart thumped roughly against his chest as it usually did in the middle of a tough battle, but felt deeper than anything he’s ever felt before.

As their lips parted Natsu was finding it hard to breathe, he unwrapped his arms and laid his back into the couch. “Woah.” He gasped.

Lucy smiled at him gently, “I’ll be right back, I got to pay the land lady before she bites my head off.” She said standing up and grabbing the bag of money from the counter. She gave one last look at Natsu, who was breathing slowly, his hands to his chest his face flushed a bright shade of pink.

“Yea, I really do love Lucy.”

[squishysvt]

If I’m Lucky - Ch.7`Ten

Member: Ten (NCT) Genre: Angst, dark, and a sprinkle of fluff Word Count: 2,442 A/N this chapter is long and it’s been a??? month?? sorry lol -Admin Ay Warnings: profanity, talks of: body modification, drugs, weapons and sex oh my gosh this makes this chapter sound really bad but it’s not i promise

[previous chapter] ~ Ch.7`Ten ~ [next chapter]

recap:  As you had moved you had caught sight of Ten’s out of place shirt, it lifted slightly revealing a piece of his skin slightly above his hip. A black mark peaked from above his pants that you assumed to be a tattoo. 

Curiosity overwhelmed you. You tried your best to pull down his trousers to reveal the rest of it without causing Ten to wake up. Just as you had gotten a peek at the mark, a hand grabbed your wrist.

    As Ten laid in bed he traced the familiar marking on his hip over and over again. He’s had the scar for so long that he had nearly forgotten about its existence all together.

 Ten felt his lips quiver involuntarily as he spoke, “Dad, do I have to do this? Aren’t I already part of Squalo Nero by default since I’m your son? I should get a free pass or something.” Ten could feel the beginnings of sweat threatening to drip down his back as he sat in a severely uncomfortable wooden chair in the middle of the room.

His butt was starting to hurt from how long he had been sitting trying to talk his way out of his initiation. Yuta, the older man in charge of the procedure, towered over Ten’s figure as he shifted from side to side impatiently.

“Soon you’ll find out that no one gets it easy here, kid. Stop talking and get it over with.” Ten’s father’s brooding figure was planted at the door where he could easily get a view of the process. The rest of the gang lined the walls of the room observing alongside the leader. By the way his father waved him off, Ten knew that it was decided.

Yuta, after receiving a signal from Ten’s father, erected himself as he got ready to start the the branding process. Yuta sneered as he picked up the hot rod shaped as a shark. Ten tuned out the sounds of the other members mumbling insults around him. He knew that none of them liked that the boss’ scrawny fifteen-year-old son was allowed to join so easily.

Everyone had to go through the branding, no matter who it was. However, there were more...physically demanding trials to the initiation. Sometimes you had to withstand a beating from fifteen different men at once. Sometimes you were whipped six times in the back. If you were a woman, you were given the option to sleep your way into the gang.

Ten acknowledges that he indeed had a handicap.

Yuta eyed the instrument in his hand with one of the most sadistic smiles Ten had ever seen on a man. “This’ll hurt you more than it will hurt me, squirt.”

Lifting up the soft material of Ten’s shirt, Yuta hummed a soft rendition of a children’s song.

All Ten remembered after that was the heat gradually moving closer to his skin before he passed out.

    The faint knock on his bedroom door interrupted Ten’s memories of the past. He knew before humming an invitation to come in that it was you on the other side.

“Hey, you’re pretty good at school stuff, right?” You inquired as you plopped onto the edge of Ten’s bed, disrupting the previous quiet of the room.

“I guess, but how did you get in here?”

You giggled, “We do this every week, Ten. I picked the lock.”

“At least tell me you locked the door behind you.” Ten groaned. You had a habit of forgetting to do so.

“Don’t be a bitch, I doubt anyone would care enough to break in and hurt that pretty little face yours.”

Ten felt his mouth threaten to form a smile. Although there were definitely people out to get him, your teasing tone somehow made that reality disintegrate into the air.

“But yeah, I did. Anyway, could you help me study later? I’m lacking in a few subjects.”

Ten rolled his eyes as he spoke, “Maybe if you weren’t always slacking off during your free time your GPA would be higher.”

You gasped in mock offense, “Excuse you, but you’re lying if you were never tempted to click on one of those twenty minute vine compilations.”

Ten let himself release a breathy laugh.

“When do you want to get together then?”

“How about tomorrow at my place since we both don’t have class?” You prodded Ten’s covered knee with your finger as you awaited Ten’s reply.

“Why not just do it here?”

“Wendy and Doyoung aren’t gonna be there and my room is actually clean for once. I wanna show off, okay?”

Ten only shrugged, which was enough for you to pop up from your position on the bed.

“Great, be there at three!”

Ten watched as you zoomed out of his room and out the apartment room. As soon as he heard the sound of the door slamming behind you, a muffled ring sounded from the drawer of his bedside table. Ten huffed as he pulled the black burner phone out. A familiar number sprawled out onto the small screen.

“Yes, Dad?” Ten answered, all previous lightness in his voice gone.

“Be at the main building at nine. There’s a meeting.”

Ten didn’t bother to answer back, the gruff command from his father punctuated with the beep of the ended phone call. Squalo Nero didn’t consist of a single building, as it was too dangerous. Small buildings scattered around the city, each of which specializing in the different branches of the gang. The abandoned storage facility that Ten was in charge of was only for the drug trade. Other buildings worked with selling illegal weapons, member training, the sex industry, and so on. However, the main building that his father resided in was a good hour away, serving as a meeting place for all those in charge, this including Ten.

Ten glanced at his clock, the bright red numbers irritating his eyes. Classes started in an hour. Ten groaned as he forced himself to go back to sleep. Morning classes were a bitch.

    When Ten had knocked on your apartment door the next day, he was met with Wendy’s shorter figure in the doorway.

Wendy shifted uncomfortably, “Hey.”

Ten nodded, “Hello.”

Before Wendy could question him you appeared behind her.

“Oh, Ten! Come in! You’re like ten minutes late.”

Ten decided to ignore both your shit-eating grin and the obvious joke you were trying to make as he pushed his way inside past Wendy.

“Well, I’ll leave y’all two alone. Y/n, please do not burn the place down.”

“That only happened once!” A laugh caught in Ten’s throat as he heard the the defensive pitch in your voice.

“Yeah, well make sure that doesn’t turn into twice.” Wendy signified the end of the conversation with the slam of the door as she stepped out.

Ten allowed himself to observe the room as you muttered curses under your breath. Despite the similarity of build of you and Ten’s apartments, they both gave off different auras. There was a worn out ikea couch in the middle of the living room, across from it a small tv. Soft lamps and other decorative lights littered the room. On the polished wooden coffee table layed a couple of photos of the trio of friends that occupied the apartment.

Your apartment was warmer than his. The colorful personalities of the three dripping all over the room, in contrast to the lonesome black that was Ten’s.

“My room is on the left over there,” you jerked your head towards a door decorated with stickers and a big sign with your name on it, “Go put your stuff in there.”

When Ten finally settled his things and emerged from your room, he spotted you hunched over the island in small kitchen area. Ten slipped behind you, observing as you placed an array of snacks on the table.

With a sudden spark of playfulness, Ten slowly reached over your shoulder, hoping to alarm you. He smirked as the effort proved successful, you jumping and placing a hand over year heart like a middle-aged woman.

You hissed, “Can you maybe not do that?”

Ten smiled as he reached for a cheese cube you had dropped in the moment, popping it into his mouth.

“Sorry, did I scare you?” Ten cooed at your exasperated demeanor. You pouted, choosing to throw a handful of grapes into your mouth instead of giving into Ten’s taunting.

Rather than resorting to mindless chatter, you stayed silent, picking at the foods on the kitchen island. Ten relished in the comfortable silence that hung in the air.

After several days of contact with you, Ten had gotten used to your talkative ways. It had gotten to the point to where he would go so far as to say that he missed it late at night while he floated through his empty apartment. Then, the yearning for your voice to hold the place of the ringing silence in his ears evolved into the desire to have you fill the space next to him. Your presence at this point was enough.

How you managed to insert yourself into his life and get him this comfortable around you, he wasn’t sure, but he would blame it on your persistence.

Munching on a few crackers, Ten stretched his body, not bothering to think about how his shirt lifted over his stomach until he noticed the frown that crawled onto your face. The brand was in such a visible place, he should have known to wear a clothes with better coverage.

Just as you had cleared your throat, the sound of the front door opening cut through the tense smog that occupied the room.

Ten could visualize your ears perking up as you recognized the obnoxious laughter following right after.

“Doyoung?” You asked as you maneuvered to get a better view of the front door. Ten followed you, peeking over your shoulder to see the unexpected company.

“I thought you said you’d be out with...Jaehyun?” Your your question faltered as soon as said man stepped through the door.

Doyoung sighed, “Well, yeah, cancelling of plans. Jae here got us kicked out of the arcade.”

Jaehyun, who had stayed frozen since meeting eyes with Ten, spluttered as he tried to gather a response.

“I-- uh, yeah. A parent...didn’t exactly enjoy me shoving their kid during laser tag.”

You suppressed a laugh as you spoke, “You should get that aggressiveness of yours checked.”

“It was an accident! And he looked big for a eight-year-old alright.”

Doyoung chuckled as he pecked Jaehyun on the cheek. “I love you.” Ten, had he not been preoccupied with the current situation, would have taken the time to acknowledge the fond tone in his voice with a look of distaste.

“By the way, Jaehyun, this is Ten. He’s a friend of mine. Ten, this is Jaehyun, Doyoung’s boyfriend if you couldn’t guess.” You waved your hands between the two as you went on with introductions.

The fact that Ten had known Jaehyun for about a year already stuck to the tip of his tongue as he smiled enough to not be suspicious.

Errors that had let up to this meeting flipped through Ten’s memories like a children’s book.

Maybe if he had talked his way out of helping you the day of your first encounter. Maybe if Ten hadn’t let you inside his home when you were locked out of your own. Maybe if Ten hadn’t gotten so dangerously comfortable around you.

Maybe then he wouldn’t have had to meet one of his rookie underlings outside of Squalo Nero in such an unguarded state.

Now, since Ten was under the stares of both you and Doyoung, he would have to deal with Jaehyun as subtly as possible. This opposed to his normal method of an icy scowl and a fleeting threat that would guarantee no information of his private wearabouts floating around if he did it right.

Jaehyun sucked in a deep breath before holding out an unsure hand. “Nice to meet you.”

Ten’s eyes flickered from the hand and back to Jaehyun’s face.

“Likewise.”

Ten pivoted towards your room, patting your shoulder before walking in. “I’ll go ahead and start studying.”

    The study session lasted an hour before either of you said anything, a stiff air accompanying the both of you as you worked. You wanted to say something. Ten could see it from the way you fidgeted, stealing glances of him from across the room.

“I know you want to ask.” Ten gave in, tired of your hesitance.

You choked as Ten met your eyes, catching you during your attempts to peek at him again.

“I mean…” You tensed, not sure if you should continue. Ten tried urging you on quietly with the raise of his eyebrows.

“What’s the marking, Ten?” The question flew out of your mouth like a puff of air.

Ten sighed. As aware as he was that this conversation would happen, he wasn’t necessarily ready.

“It’s a branding,” he lifted his shirt for you to see, “Of a shark.”

Papers rustled as you crawled over to Ten to get a better look. You reached out towards the marking, waiting for Ten’ approval before touching it.

Your hands were cold, the gentle nature of your fingers against Ten’s skin feeling foreign to him. A shiver ran through Ten’s body as you traced around the plain shape.

“Why do you have it?”

Your eyes peered through Ten’s soul, disassembling every evasive answer Ten had prepared.

“It was for...an initiation.” Ten heard his voice crack as the sound of Jaehyun and Doyoung’s laughter erupted through the walls. You hadn’t wavered at the interruption, instead halting the movement of your fingers around Ten’s hipbone as you spoke.

“Are you part of a gang?”

Ten could have attempted to give you an unconvincing response.

“No, I just thought the design was cool. When I looked up it was apparently associated to some gang...wild, am I right?”

Except, everyone knew who Squalo Nero was. Practically the most influential group of organized crime in the area, their dirty hands controlled the streets. Schools and parents alike had to keep rash teens from associating with gang activity. None officially joined, but many took part in petty crime in the name of Squalo Nero, spray painting the black shark symbol on trains and the like.

“Yes.”

You sighed, resting your head on Ten’s shoulder. Ten considered himself excellent at reading others. It was a quality he needed for his job. Now, however, he found himself unable to read you. The different possibilities of your reaction ran through his head, waiting for you to say something.

“Why?” The question came out quiet. Nervous.

Ten was just as nervous, maybe even more so. He wondered why you still sat next to him after he had confirmed your suspicions. Most people, he would think, would peel themselves away from him in an instant. Most people would become scared of him. Most people would turn around and call the police as soon as possible. But you didn’t.  

[folklore-musings]

When The Curtain Falls (chapter two)

Scene Two: Technicolor Word

Summary:  AU. Jughead wins a scholarship to one of the most prestigious arts schools in the country. His dream is to be an award winning director, but to get there he must first try his hand at acting. He wins the lead role in the senior showcase alongside Betty Cooper, daughter of the infamous actress Alice Cooper. Will Betty and Jughead crumble under the pressure, or defeat the odds set against them? Slow Burn. It's Riverdale meets La La Land meets Step Up

Prologue    Chapter One

Read on AO3 here

A/N: I know, I know, I promised a slow burn. And that is what this will be, a slow burn. But I can’t help that I’m infatuated with the idea of a lovestruck Jughead, now can I?

J. J.

Jughead can’t sleep. He thought moving to a new state, far away from his home life would help dissipate the demons inside his mind, but he was so wrongly mistaken. The red blinking LED lights on his alarm clock read just half past two in the morning. Groaning, he steps out of bed and grabs the beanie from his nightstand. He’s quick to dress, deciding to roam free around the campus, thankful the library is open 24 hours.

He pauses at the vending machine in the lobby of the dorms and purchases Poptarts and a soda. Why not overload his body with refined sugars? Jughead steps outside, the late summer air weighing upon him like a heavy, humid sheet. Despite the hour, the city around him is buzzing with life. He listens as cars honk and bells whistle and he wonders what lies beyond the Academy. At the sound of a deep bass, Jughead looks up and sees a few lights on in the windows above. Apparently he’s not the only one unable to keep his thoughts at bay.

With lethargic limbs he drags his feet over to the library, tripping on the top step as he makes his way inside. The fluorescent lights blind his still sleep laden eyes. Jughead heads for the couches near the back, removing his new laptop from his bag, setting it on the coffee table before him. He absorbs his surroundings, knowing it’s just him and the night librarian, Wendy in the hallowed room. The soda fizzes as he untwists the cap to take a sip and he sighs. Cracking his knuckles he gets to work.

Jughead works until the early signs of dawn shine out over the horizon. His fingers tickle the keys on his laptop and he reads back over the tiny black letters. Ever since he’d come to New York, he found himself recreating a similar character in each of his playwrights. Whether old or young, crazy or sane, benevolent or full of malice, the female personas he created shared the same physical features. She would have sun-kissed hair, with hopeful sea green eyes and strawberry sweet lips. Jughead kicks the leg of the coffee table slightly, causing the soda bottle to topple over on its side. He clutches the hair framing his face and pulls roughly, a sigh of defeat escaping his mouth. He’d been in New York for barely a week and he was shook to the core by the essence of Betty Cooper. She was the muse he never knew he needed until then.

Realizing he should probably begin to get ready for the day, Jughead packs away his things and exits the library. Wendy waves as he takes his leave. “Have a good day.” She croaks, and Jughead wishes her the same.

He’s on his way back to his dorm when he catches Veronica stalking down the sidewalk towards the theater building, with a duffle bag draped over her shoulder. “Hey Ronnie!” he calls out to her, catching her off guard. The poor girl clutches her heart in shock.

“Good morning brooding loner,” she says with a smile, changing direction and walking towards him. They meet at a bench and sit down beside one another. “You almost gave me a heart attack back there.”

“Sorry about that,” Jughead ruffles the hair at the back of his neck and stifles a yawn. “Where are you headed at this forsaken hour?”

Veronica rummages in her bag and pulls out a pair of ballet flats. “My dreams persist to come true, no matter the time of day.” Jughead nods in agreement and taps his bag knowingly. “Although I feel like it should be me asking you that same question. Did you just come from the library?”

“Yeah. I spend most nights there actually.”

Veronica’s smile falters. “But when do you sleep?”

Jughead’s shoulders hunch over and he exhales deeply. “I don’t.”

“So the mystery of Jughead Jones continues. You know sleep is good for you, right? It enhances brain activity, among other things.”

Jughead pulls the beanie from his head and folds it over in his hands, yawning once more. “I had no idea. How enlightening.” He pauses and forces the beanie back atop his head. “Anyway, I stopped you for a reason.”

“I’m all ears Jug. But make it quick, rehearsal is calling my name.”

He turns his body to face her but avoids her gaze, looking at the building behind her. “What’s the deal with Betty?”

Ronnie glances at him with blank eyes. “I’m not following.”

Jughead exhales and continues. “I mean, what’s her story? What makes her tick?” He takes a deep breath. “Does she have a boyfriend?”

She throws her head back and laughs. “Oh. I should’ve seen this coming.” Jughead doesn’t understand what’s so funny but he hangs on her every word. “Look here Romeo. Betty is unlike any girl you will ever meet. She is passionate and full of insecurities. She’s blonde and beautiful but she won’t believe you if you ever say it to her face. She’s as delicate as a flower but will fuck anyone up that messes with her or someone she loves.” Jughead soaks in her words, repeating them over in the back of his head, mentally recording everything she says. “And no, Betty doesn’t have a boyfriend.”

He grins, his stomach somersaulting inside him. “Good to know.” He says slowly, absorbing the information like a sponge. “You’re not going to tell her about this encounter… are you?”

She shakes her head, but Jughead’s wary as to whether or not he can trust her. “My lips are sealed.” Jughead stands up to leave but Ronnie grabs onto his forearm. “You’re still coming to watch the movie with us tonight right? Because Betty has point, you have no chance at earning a part unless you see it.”

Jughead nods and helps her to her feet. “Of course I’m still going. And thank you for the information, about Betty that is. I’m usually fairly good at reading people, but for some reason I can’t read her.” Ronnie begins to walk away, hips swaying as she does.

“Anytime. See you at lunch!”

V. L.

She plugs her phone into the auxiliary cord of the stereo system and searches for her usual playlist. When she finds it she taps it and plays the first song, bopping her head along to the beat. Veronica expands out her arms, shaking the sleep from her body as she warms up with a few light hearted stretches.

Once her limbs are loose and warm she begins to move. Her body is fluid as it moves to the rhythm of the music, and any onlooker would be able to pinpoint the fire in her eyes as she lets the music consume every fiber of her being. But all Veronica sees are her flaws and the mistakes she repeatedly makes. She swears under her breath and falls to the floor in a heap.

“You faltered on that last step.” An icy voice rings throughout the small studio room.

Veronica looks up and frowns. “This is a closed practice, Cheryl. What are you doing here?”

The porcelain, fiery redhead tiptoes toward Veronica, full of grace and poise. “Competition is healthy V. Plus, don’t think I haven’t noticed when you watch me through the windows. You’re not as stealthy as you think you are.”

“So, you’ve just come to watch and critique every step I miss. Thanks, but I’d rather be alone right now.” Veronica stumbles to her feet and counts to eight in her head, jumping right back in where she left off before.

“Nobody ever wants to be alone. Those who are hate themselves, and those who say they want to be are liars.”

Ronnie lets everything Cheryl says flow in one ear and out the other, drowning out her misgivings and putting everything she feels into her movements. Again, she staggers on the same note and stomps her feet on the hard wood. “Why can’t I get this right?” she cries.

Cheryl opens her mouth to answer and Veronica puts up a hand to stop her before she starts. “It was rhetorical Cheryl. I don’t want your input.”

She crosses her arms and waltzes over to Veronica. “You may not want it, but you sure as hell need it.” Ronnie is positively fuming as Cheryl stands beside her. “Do you see what I’m doing here?” Cheryl asks, recreating the steps Veronica kept fumbling over. She nods, the envy apparent in her chocolate eyes. “You keep tripping over your feet. You’re thinking too hard about the movements, Ronnie. Let your body be swept away with the music. The rest will fall into place.”

Ronnie hates the fact that everything Cheryl’s explaining to her is actually making sense. Her muscles are tense and she moves to replay the song. Over and over she repeats to herself that she can do this. She wipes every thought from her mind and focuses solely on the music.

She begins to dance, twirling and leaping and just letting every worry, every fear she has escape her body with each passing step. When the crescendo hits she nails the movement she’d been attempting to perfect for the past two weeks.

Cheryl claps, the heavy booms echoing around the room. “See, that wasn’t so hard, now was it?” She flips her scarlet hair over her shoulder and smiles smugly at Veronica.

Her heart is racing and she wants nothing more than to slap the grin off Cheryl’s cherry red lips. Instead she closes her eyes steadies her breathing. “As much as I hate to say this, thank you.”

Cheryl’s eyes are gleaming and she turns, making to exit the room. She stops just beyond the door frame and calls behind her. “If you ever want to consider turning your solo act into a duet, let me know.” Cheryl winks and Ronnie bids her a dramatic wave goodbye. Once she’s out of sight Ronnie flips Cheryl the bird and heads for her bag, taking a water break. Like she’d ever consider dancing with Cheryl Blossom, what a sick and twisted joke. One of them would end up killing the other, she was sure of it.

 B. C.

She shows up early to Veronica’s room, surprised to see Kevin and Cheryl are already there. “Hey guys,” she greets them, dropping her bag by the door and heading into the kitchen. Betty looks at Veronica quizzically and nods her head in Cheryl’s direction. “What’s she doing here?” Betty asks.

“I invited her.”

Cheryl steps between the whispering girls. “Yeah Cooper, she invited me, have a problem with that?”

Betty shakes her head and takes a step back. “Do you have like, supersonic hearing or something? How did you hear me?”

“I’m good at reading lips.” Cheryl moves to take a seat on the couch when they hear a knock at the door.

“That’s Jughead,” Veronica says, slipping past Betty and welcoming him inside. “What did you do, raid the vending machine?” She asks as he walks inside, stepping out of his shoes.

“Yeah – hey why do you have a fridge in your room?” Jughead wonders aloud, his arms full of sugary, carb filled snacks. Betty’s mouth waters at the sight of licorice and popcorn. Bless Jughead’s soul.

Veronica moves to sit over on the couch next to Cheryl. “Perks of having a father who donates quite a bit to the school I guess. Make yourself at home Jug.”

Betty watches as he scatters the snacks on the coffee table and she heads over, grabbing the licorice and sitting down on the loveseat perpendicular to the TV. “Ready for a movie that will change your life?” Betty asks him, tucking her feet beneath her and hugging a throw pillow to her chest.

“A movie, about singing and dancing is not going to change my life, Betty.” Jughead drops down on the cushion beside her and grabs the popcorn. Kevin joins Cheryl and Veronica on the couch.

Veronica claps and the lights dim. “Let the magic begin.”

 J. J.

Jughead has no idea what the fuck is going on. The opening scene begins and suddenly everyone in the room is on their feet, dancing on the furniture and singing along with the actors on screen. There’s a piece of popcorn perched between his fingers, forgotten midway towards his mouth. He’s speechless, watching as they all twirl and jump and sing and he wonders if the people in the room below theirs can even think over the noise they’re making.

“What are you doing?” Jughead asks incredulously. Before he knows it he’s being pulled to his feet by Veronica.

“Dance for us Jones.” A blush creeps up on his cheeks and he sits back down. Veronica shrugs. “Fine, suit yourself.”

This whole city, this whole school, and the people surrounding him were nothing like the people back home. The spontaneity was cool and refreshing to Jughead, but so foreign he almost didn’t understand it. He finds his gaze traveling over the four people in front of him. Veronica and Cheryl seem to know the dance steps by heart and Betty and Kevin hold each other’s hands, singing along breathlessly. He watches Betty and she shines. She’s a force of nature all on her own. She’s an enchantress, inviting him in with her silky, ensnaring voice.

When the opening number ends they all resume back to their seats, eyes focused on the screen as if nothing out of the ordinary just happened. “What was that?” he asks, returning his attention to the popcorn in front of him.

Betty glances at him and puts a finger to her lips, shushing him softly. “Just watch the movie.”

Once the movie is over and the credits roll, Veronica claps and the lights brighten around them. She turns off the TV and everyone looks over at Jughead. “What?”

Kevin’s the first to speak. “How do you feel?”

“Like I ate too much popcorn.”

Betty turns in her spot and faces Jughead. “No silly, how do you feel about the movie?”

Jughead shrugs noncommittally. “It was good. A little confusing towards the end, but relatively good.”

Cheryl’s the next to chime in. “Good? Did you get dropped on your head as a baby? That movie is spectacular. You can’t just denote it down to good.”

Betty shakes her head. “What Cheryl’s trying to say is don’t you feel different? The first time I watched La La Land, I felt as if I could do anything. The music, the magic, the colors, the sights, they’re all mind boggling. Don’t you feel something in here?” Betty places a hand over his heart.

“This is a lot of pressure you guys are putting on me right now.” He’s overly aware of Betty’s hand pressed against his chest and he never wants her to stop touching him. A fire burns within him that no movie could ever ignite. He changes the topic as Betty removes her lingering hand. “So are you all auditioning for the senior play?”

They each nod, beginning to blurt out what character they wish to portray.

“Callie Hernandez – Mia’s best friend.” Veronica says.

“Sebastian’s sister.” Cheryl follows and Jughead raises an eyebrow.

“You don’t want to be Mia?” He asks dumbfounded.

Betty clears her throat. “No, I’ll be Mia.” She stands up and she twirls around the room.

“But you’re not a redhead.” Jughead points out.

“Have you ever heard of these things called wigs?” She asks, dancing her way into the kitchen and grabbing herself a bottle of water. He raises his hand, signaling for her to grab him one as well.

“What about you Kevin? Are you going to be Sebastian?”

Kevin blushes and waves off Jughead’s comment. “Despite these stunning good looks, I’m more a behind the scenes kind of guy. I’ve been playing the piano since I was a kid, so I’ll most likely stunt for the student who lands Sebastian’s role.”

“Wait, so if I wanted to audition for Sebastian, I don’t have to worry about the fact that I can’t play the piano?”

“Not at all. But can you sing or dance? Or even act? I thought you wanted to be a director.”

Jughead nods and wipes his clammy palms on his jeans. “I do, but that doesn’t mean I can’t act. And as for the singing, Ryan Gosling’s not that good so I don’t have much to worry about in that department.”

Veronica looks Jughead over and speaks. “What about the dancing? I invited you to dance with me earlier and you refused?”

Jughead clears his throat. Betty’s back beside him and she hands him a water. He takes a lazy sip before answering. “I have a little sister back home, Jelly Bean. She used to dance when she was younger and I would help her practice. Also, I would accompany her to father/daughter dances in town. Our dad is a deadbeat alcoholic, and I wanted to be there for her, so she didn’t feel so left out.”

Betty reaches for Jughead’s shoulder, capturing his attention. “That’s so sweet. So you really want to audition for Sebastian?” Again, her hand lingers in the friendliest of touches and he begins to imagine what would happen if they landed the lead roles. Her as Mia and him as Sebastian; he’d get to dance with her, sing with her, and kiss her.

“Sure, why not?”

She looks at him with a shy gaze. “If you want someone to audition with, I’ll do it with you. I’m planning on spending most of the day tomorrow rehearsing the dance scene of them atop the hill, looking out over the city. You’re welcome to join me.”

Jughead diverts his eyes and looks to Ronnie and she mouths, ‘Go for it.’

“What time?” He asks Betty, unable to believe just how lucky he’s become since he stepped foot in this city.

“Meet me in the lobby at seven a.m.? Bring your dancing shoes.”

Jughead gestures to himself while everyone laughs. “Do I look like I own dancing shoes?”

Betty taps a finger against her lips, lost in thought. “You can borrow a pair of mine.” Kevin tells him. “I have an old pair I never wear anymore.” He glances at Jughead’s feet and smiles approvingly. “I think they’ll fit you.” Jughead senses the attraction in Kevin’s eyes and he averts his eyes abruptly.

“You do know I’m not gay right?” Jughead whispers to Kevin.

Kevin nods and sighs. “I know. I have a boyfriend.” He laughs at the worried look in Jughead’s eyes.

Betty taps Jughead on the shoulder and steals his attention once more. “So will you rehearse with me?”

A pout plays at the corners of her soft lips and Jughead melts. He can hear the beat of his heart thumping in his eardrums as his eyes rove over Betty’s face and her delicate features. He holds out a hand to seal the deal. “Definitely.”

[marypsue]

Any Misery You Choose 5 / 6

Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five / Part Six / Epilogue

on AO3

...

This road trip would be better with toffee peanuts, Stan decides. 

It would also be better if he had literally anyone for company other than Robbie.

Thankfully, they hadn't talked much at first, but Robbie had insisted on flipping through the radio stations until he'd found one playing the whiniest, shittiest rock music Stan's ever heard. He's pretty sure that if he has to hear the words 'broken' and 'soul' used together one more time, he's gonna rip the radio right out of the dash.

Stan's just considering whether to suggest turning off at the little town they just passed a big road sign for, grab some snacks and take a piss before they keep going, when the song Robbie'd been yelling and banging the dash along to ends and the DJ comes on instead with the news.

"Ugh, booooring," Robbie groans, and moves to spin the dial, but Stan slaps his hand away. "Hey, what gives?"

"Shut up," Stan says, listening to the DJ's voice. It's hard to hear over the obnoxious background music, but Stan can make out just enough of the words to follow along.

“- following a raid...Xavier’s School for...Direc-...-pher of the FBI stated that...evidence, but still no sign of Pacifica Northwest...”

“Dammit,” Stan mutters. Beside him, Robbie’s thankfully shut his mouth and stopped rolling his eyes, instead leaning closer to the radio like it’s some kind of magnet for skinny jerks with badly-dyed black hair. “Why don’t they give these guys microphones that actually work?”

He fixes Robbie with a glare when Robbie reaches for the dial, and Robbie scowls. “I’m gonna tune it to a news station, jeez.”

“Oh. Right.” Stan considers. “Good idea.”

He stomps down on the gas, anyway.

The radio buzzes and crackles through a few stations before Robbie finally settles on one. The announcer’s saying something about a bridge collapse, but the longer she talks the more Stan’s sure it’s nowhere near them, nothing they need to worry about. 

“Come on, give us the scoop on Northwest’s brat,” Stan mutters. A tanker truck tears past them, its horn blaring as it blows by the Valentinos’ station wagon. The news announcer switches to some story about politics in the Philippines. Stan thumps a hand on the steering wheel, and curses when a cheery jingle tootles out instead of the horn. 

“Hey, careful with that!” Robbie glares at Stan’s hand, still resting on the horn. “My dad’ll kill me if you bust anything in this van.”

The announcer’s still talking about the Philippines. Stan can only sit listening to it for so long.

“Okay, what’s he gonna do?” he blurts, at last. “Frown at you? Tell you how disappointed he is? Dock your allowance?”

“Oh, yeah, you’re hilarious,” Robbie mutters, crossing his arms over his chest and slouching down in the passenger seat, turning to glare out the window instead of at Stan. 

“Look, I’m serious. What’s the giant fuckin’ deal? Your parents are - honestly, they’re so good I’m not sure they’re real.” 

Robbie half-shrugs one shoulder. He doesn’t turn back to look at Stan. “You wouldn’t say that if you had to live with them.”

“What, do they knock you around when nobody else’s watching? Tell you what a piece of shit you are every night before bed? Make you eat your own turds?”

“What? No!” That finally gets Robbie looking back at Stan, if only to fix him with a stare of disbelief. “No, they’re not total assholes. It’s just -” He huffs out a breath, slouching even more, until his chin vanishes into the folds of his hoodie. “Nevermind. You wouldn’t understand.”

Stan bangs his hand on the steering wheel again, taking care this time to avoid the horn. “Then explain it to me, okay? Make me understand why having a roof over your head and two people who love the shit outta you cramming cookies down your throat is such an awful fuckin’ thing.”

Robbie is silent for a little while longer after that, and Stan wonders if he’s thinking about the night he and Wendy found Stan in that alleyway, if he remembers what the inside of the Stanleymobile had looked like, if he remembers how Stan had gone after the pizza like a starving man. Stan kind of really, really hopes so.

“You heard what my mom calls me,” Robbie says, at last, into his chest so that the words come out muffled and Stan’s not even sure he’s heard anything at first. “It’s always like that. Always. I tell her every single time that it’s Nighthawk and every single time -”

“Oh boo fuckin’ hoo. Your mom can’t remember your stupid nickname, big deal. Shit, my dad didn’t remember our names half the time, that’s why he named us both -” Too late, Stan realises what’s coming out of his mouth and shuts it tight. Robbie’s giving him this awful, weird look, and Stan shrugs, like he can just shrug it off. 

“It’s not a nickname,” Robbie says, quietly, and Stan breathes a silent sigh of relief that he doesn’t seem to have noticed Stan’s slip-up. “And it’s not stupid. It’s a mutant name and it’s a symbol of everything that I am, everything that makes me - different. And it’s not like they just forget it. I literally remind them every single time -” He bites back the rest of his sentence, giving another shrug and a toss of his head that sweeps his bangs into his eyes, forcing him to huff and puff until he blows them away again. “Oh, sure, they act like they don’t care and they just love and accept me no matter what but - they wouldn’t send me to the school. They change the subject every time I try to talk about it. They won’t use my real name. They think the whole thing’s just a big phase and -”

He stops, abruptly, and turns with a jerk to look out the window. 

When Robbie doesn’t seem to have anything more to say, Stan turns his attention back to the news report. They’re talking about an economic downturn in Cairo. If anything about the Northwest kid had hit the news, it must’ve been at the top of the hour. Stan turns the radio off.

The station wagon hums and rattles along in silence for a few minutes before Robbie says something, small but clear in the quiet. It takes Stan a moment to process, to be sure that his ears have really picked up what his brain thinks they have.

“I’m scared what they’re gonna do when they realise it’s not.”

Stan doesn’t say anything in response. Robbie doesn’t turn to look at him, so he doesn’t see Stan nod, slowly.

“What a fuckin’ world,” Stan says, finally, unable to think of anything else to say. 

R- Nighthawk nods agreement, once, spins around and reaches over to turn the radio back on.

...

The tunnel emerges in the airplane hangar under the basketball court. Grenda, Candy, and Pacifica all look around in obvious amazement, Candy sidling over to the nearest control panel on the wall nearest the door and giving it a cautious poke before throwing herself into a flurry of curious investigation. Grenda just looks around, hands on her hips, with an expression of impressed satisfaction. “I knew there was something fishy going on!” she booms, and Pacifica and Candy both shush her. She lowers her voice some, but it still causes echoes to rattle around the vast expanse of the empty hangar. “Nobody’s got basketball nets that can fold down flat.”

“Great,” Pacifica mutters. “Good going, Nancy Drew. How do we get out of here?”

Ford’s really only been down here once, with Fidds, and the only way back out he knows of is up through the school. Obviously that’s not going to work. They have to find another way out.

He scans the huge, empty hangar. The jet is gone, with the Professor and the X-Men to Washington or wherever they’ve really gone, and without it to dominate the space, the hangar seems impossibly vast.

It doesn’t take long to spot the door against the far wall. Ford notices it at the same time as Candy does, judging by the way they both move towards it. Pacifica, though, takes a step backwards, and it takes Ford a moment to realise they've left her behind.

"Wait. What about Mabel?" She crosses her arms over her chest. “We can’t just leave her up there alone.”

“Mabel can become invisible,” Candy points out. “And Dipper cannot be outrun.”

“Yeah.” Grenda’s face is worried, but her words are reassuring. “If they really needed your help, Mabel wouldn’t’ve sent you away, right?”

Pacifica bites her lower lip, glancing back over her shoulder at the closed door behind them. 

“I really don’t think we should leave,” she says, rubbing her upper arms. 

“Too bad, it’s three to one,” Grenda booms, and then, as something slams against the door, grabs Pacifica around the waist despite her yelps of protest, slinging her over one shoulder. “You’ve just been outvoted!”

The four of them - well, three, with Pacifica in tow - run across the hangar, Ford bringing up the rear and keeping an eye on the door behind them as it shudders and shakes. Candy is the one who cautiously opens the door that Ford hopes leads out onto the grounds, peers around it and gives the all-clear. 

Ford isn’t sure about the others, but he knows that he at least is holding his breath as they emerge into the cool early-morning air. The staircase they found lets out behind what he’d believed was a storage shed, on the edge of the woods encircling the school. Behind them, around the school, Ford can see the helicopters, the black figures swarming the grounds, the - the convoy of military-looking trucks pulled into the drive -

“You. Freeze.”

Ford, stupidly, turns around. 

“I said freeze!” the figure in heavy black tactical gear barks, jerking the muzzle of his gun in Ford’s direction. Ford slowly raises both hands, palms out, looks to make sure that the girls are all right. 

He’s not sure what happens, it’s all too fast, but when Ford looks back up, the figure in tactical gear is on the ground, his own gunbelt wrapped around his wrists, tying them behind his back. Dipper’s standing over him, with the man’s gun in his hands and one foot on the soldier’s back. 

“Don’t try to move,” he says, shortly, as the soldier groans and shifts. “No matter how fast you think you are, I promise I’m faster.”

“Dipper,” Ford says, and finds himself unable to manage any more words. His knees threaten to give out underneath him, and he asks, quickly, “Where’s Mabel?”

Dipper’s face falls. “She’s not with you?”

“She went looking for you - you mean to say that she didn’t find you?”

Both Dipper and Ford turn to look back towards the school and the black-clad figures carrying - carrying limp figures down the stairs and into the trucks lined up around the drive.

“What...?” Ford asks, out loud, but even as he does, he catches a glimpse of Carla’s pink pyjamas and the pieces fall into place. “No.”

“What’s going on?” Grenda asks, in what probably passes for a whisper for Grenda, and Candy shushes her before repeating the question in an actual whisper.

Dipper turns to the one person who hasn’t spoken, a glare crossing his face. “Why don’t you tell them, Pacifica?”

The other three turn. Pacifica takes a step back - another step back, judging by how far she’s already backed away. Her expression shifts from frightened to defiant at Dipper’s words, and she tosses her hair, crossing her arms. “I - I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, you know exactly what I’m talking about. You lied to us!”

Pacifica takes another shrinking step back. 

“I - I didn’t want to!” she blurts. “They made me! If I didn’t -”

“What, they’d lock you up and treat you like an animal? Well, congratulations, you dodged that bullet by selling all our friends out so they can do it to them instead!”

Pacifica’s gaze darts from one face to another, finds no sympathy. 

“I didn’t know!” she protests, her hands curling into fists. “I had no idea they were going to do this. All they told me was that they needed a reason to shut the school down. If I vanished and then turned up here -”

“So you admit it. You were going to let all of us take the fall, just to save your own skin,” Dipper says. He’s practically glowing with anger, and Ford can hardly blame him. “I wish I could say that I can’t believe it.”

“Wait, you set us up?” Grenda says, and Candy shakes her head, narrowing her eyes. Ford’s pretty sure the warning rattle he can hear is coming from her, somehow, but he’s not certain this is the time to ask - or investigate - how she’s making it.

“I was right about you all along,” Dipper says, his hands curling into fists. “You’re exactly like your parents.”

Pacifica looks down at her feet, wringing her hands.

“All right. This is not helping us. We need a plan,” Candy says, glaring at Pacifica when she ventures to take a step to rejoin the group. “How do we undo what the Northwests have done?”

"Punching everybody is a plan!" Grenda thunders, slamming a fist into the palm of her opposite hand. Pacifica flinches at the sound.

“Whatever it is, it’d better be fast,” Dipper says, watching as the last of the black-clad figures piling into the final truck, the first truck slowly starting to move.

"Helloo, punching everybody! Fast, efficient, gets the job done!"

"I have been working on a robot..." Candy muses.

Ford clears his throat, and all eyes turn towards him. He thinks, briefly, of Stanley, who had always taken the lead in their more reckless adventures and who would just die laughing if he knew what Ford's planning Fiddleford, and how much he wishes his friend were here to bounce ideas off of, to tell Ford whether what he's thinking of is wise or even possible - but then again, Ford's only ever discovered the limits of possibility by testing them.

"I have a plan," he says.

...

"So why Nighthawk, anyway?"

The kid Stan is really, honestly trying to start thinking of as Nighthawk crosses and uncrosses his feet where they're propped against the dashboard, stares out the windshield. "Well, it's kind of in reference to how I can fly, and kind of in reference to, like, darkness -"

"Yeah, yeah, kinda figured that part out on my own," Stan grumbles. "I mean why give yourself a different name in the first place?" He thinks he deserves a medal for not adding 'and why pick such a stupid-sounding one'.

"Wh- come on, you can't actually not know about mutant names," R- Nighthawk sneers, and Stan reconsiders holding back on letting him know how dumb it sounds. "What, did you think, like, Magneto's parents named him that?"

"I can and will leave you on the side of the road."

"No you won't, you need a navigator." Nighthawk leans back in the passenger seat, tucking both hands behind his head. "It's all about, like, self-determination. Like who your shitty parents thought you'd be isn't who you are, y'know? Only for us, it's more than, like, growing up to be an artist when they wanted you to go to law school."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Stan mutters, twisting his hands on the steering wheel.

"Nobody except mutants expects their kid to turn out to be a mutant, right? So your parents give you a name based on their shitty expectations of what you'll be like, saddle you with all their baggage, stick you with this idea of this nice, normal human kid they expect you to be but you can't ever be - and like, who wants to identify themselves with that for the rest of their life? So it's just about, like, claiming your own life for yourself. Like, fuck you, mom and dad! This isn’t the dead guy you named me after, this isn’t the nice normal kid you wanted - this is me." The look of self-satisfied pride fades off of Nighthawk's face, and he says, "Hey, we're gonna fill this up with gas before we head back, right? My dad'll be so pissed if we bring it back with an empty tank."

"Sure," Stan says, unable to keep a small smile off his face.

He's pretty sure 90% of what Nighthawk's just said is a load of bullshit, or at least not what the original idea behind 'mutant names' or whatever was, but it's still something to mull over as he drives, instead of how worried he is about Ford and the fact that he hadn't been able to hear that full news story how much he hates the radio stations Nighthawk chooses. It'd be...kind of nice not to have to drag his dad's name around with him anymore. Hell, it'd be nice not to have to be reminded every time he hears his own damn name that he wasn't even supposed to be born...

"Whoa whoa whoa wait, we got news,” Nighthawk says, kicking his feet down from the dashboard and leaning over to turn up the radio. The announcer’s voice on this channel is thankfully much clearer and sharper than the first station they’d tried, uninterrupted by static. 

“Breaking news at the top of this hour: missing heiress Pacifica Northwest has been found.”

Stan glances over, meets Nighthawk’s eyes.

“Thanks to the tireless diligence and cooperation of the FBI and local law enforcement, the missing girl, who is the only daughter of prominent senator Preston Northwest and former Miss Roadkill County, Priscilla Northwest, has been located after a day and a half of searching. Miss Northwest was first reported missing yesterday evening, the victim of a suspected kidnapping by mutant extremists opposed to Senator Northwest’s proposed Mutant Control Act. Several suspects have been taken into custody, and Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters is currently under lockdown pending further investigation.”

“Wait, what?” Stan says, but the newsanchor carries on into the next story, the bridge collapse he’s already heard about. “No, hang on, who are these ‘suspects’? Why would the school -”

“Northwest,” Nighthawk spits. “Give me half an hour alone with that guy and I promise I’d pound him into a pulp.”

“How? You just got your ass handed to you this morning because you didn’t realise punching somebody on solid bone would hurt your scrawny noodle hands,” Stan says. 

Nighthawk scowls.

“This is some kind of trick of his,” he says. “I’m telling you, this has ‘Northwest’ written all over it. Betcha five bucks he let his kid get kidnapped just to make us look bad. No, wait - had her kidnapped himself.”

“You sound way too excited about that,” Stan says, and Nighthawk shrugs.

“Don’t trust the media, man. It’s all lies and propoganda.”

“What, and your magical unbiased source is...?”

This seems to be the thing that finally stumps Nighthawk. He turns and slouches against the door, staring out the window. 

Stan turns his attention back to the road, and it isn’t long before he slips back into the near-trance that driving long distances can put a guy into. Vague suggestions of scenarios unspool themselves across the back of his mind, different ways he might see Ford again for the first time in nearly a year, different things he might say, different ways Ford might react. Not all of them are good, and the thought sends a little chill down Stan’s spine. 

He tunes back in at the sight of something odd, just in time to see a second huge, military-looking, gunmetal-grey truck tear past in the opposite direction of their station wagon at a ridiculous speed. 

"This isn't anywhere near a base or anything, right?" Stan asks, as a third truck sails past.

"No, and it's not on any major routes for military transport. Is it just me, or was that -" Nighthawk stops mid-sentence, gripping his seat with both hands as Stan checks the rearview mirror for anyone coming up behind them, then stomps on the brake and spins the wheel as hard as he can. "Holy shit - don't wreck my parents' car!"

Stan doesn't listen, just flooring the gas and spinning the station wagon around in a U-turn to follow after the little convoy. 

It's not just Nighthawk. Stan's also sure he caught a glimpse, through the window of the cab of the second truck, of Pacifica Northwest.

...

Ford is still half in disbelief that his plan has actually worked so far. Even with Pacifica...smoothing things over, he'd thought for sure something would give them away, his nervousness or how loosely the bulletproof vest fits him or his total lack of knowledge of military jargon. But here he is, sitting in the cab of one of the trucks, masquerading as the soldier who'd accosted them on the grounds, with Pacifica sandwiched between him and the driver. Somewhere in the box of the truck behind them, Grenda, Candy, and Dipper are lying low, pretending to be just as tranquilized as the other students, waiting for the sign to start causing havoc. 

Pacifica elbows Ford in the side, and he glances down to see her glaring up at her. Right. She’d given him a scolding once already about getting too nervous and letting it bleed over to her. Ford takes a deep breath and tries to calm himself down. It’s working fine so far. There’s no reason to believe that the rest of the plan won’t go just as well. 

Ford leans forward, holding his gloved hands over the hot-air vents on the dash like he’s trying to warm them up. His sixth fingers are starting to cramp, pinched into one finger of his gloves along with his fifth fingers, but he doesn’t dare take the gloves off and risk the driver seeing his hands.

He concentrates.

It isn't easy, trying to reverse the 'push' that Ford now realises he'd given his perpetual motion machine, to pull energy back from the moving engine and let it disperse into the air. It takes a few minutes to take hold, minutes Ford spends sweating through his borrowed uniform. He's certain every second that he's about to be caught, that it's all going to be over. He doesn't even have any real proof of his theory that one's powers can be...repurposed, trained to work in ways that don't come instinctually, and even if he had, he's never tried it himself. He's working entirely on guesswork and hope. This was impossibly foolish, and there's no way it's going to -

Ford catches himself, reminds himself again of all the people relying on him to keep his head. He can do this. He can do anything. He just needs to control his fear.

The engine sputters, coughs, and, as the driver exclaims in surprise and wrenches at the wheel, chugs to a halt. A plume of black smoke starts to eke out from under the hood, and in seconds, it's pouring out, thick and foul-smelling and ugly. The back of the first truck, growing farther and farther ahead as the truck starts its long, slow drift to a stop, is nearly completely obscured.

"What the -" the driver mutters, cutting himself off with a curse as he hammers the heel of his hand against the array of buttons on the dash beside him. 

"Engine trouble?" Ford asks, with a glance in the rearview mirror. Behind him, he can see the third truck starting to slow as well. The radio crackles with hails from the other two-thirds of the transport convoy. Ford ignores them.

"Damn thing's gone right out," the driver growls, as he reluctantly spins the wheel to take the truck over into the shoulder. "Better not be one of those muties messing around, the lot of 'em were supposed to be sedated -"

He stops, with his foot on the brake and his hand on the four-way flashers, as Ford pushes up his visor and tugs off his helmet. "Hey, you're not -"

"You missed one," Ford says, calm and flat as a snow-covered field.

The driver's look of shock is frozen at the exact moment it starts to turn to rage.

Ford shucks his gloves, wincing slightly as blood rushes back into his cramped fingers. He gives them an experimental wiggle, making sure that all twelve are still functional.

"I'm fine, thanks for asking," Pacifica says, after a moment's silence. "Not at all traumatised by having just seen a man die right beside me."

Ford spares the driver the briefest of glances. "He'll most likely be fine. In fact, if properly thawed, this may actually add a few minutes to his lifespan, considering the experiments that have been done with cryogenics -"

"Whatever," Pacifica says, as the third truck pulls to a slow halt behind them.

The radio in the dash crackles to life again, another truck hailing them. "Come in, Delta Charlie Tango. Delta Charlie Tango, what is your status?"

Ford glances over at Pacifica, who gives an exaggerated shrug. "You just froze the only guy who knows how we're supposed to respond to that."

Ford looks up through the smoke still streaming from under the hood, to the first truck in the convoy, finally, finally starting to pull to a halt - too far ahead. But it can't be helped. He leans over, grabs the radio receiver, and answers, in his best authoritative voice, "This is Delta Charlie Tango. We're experiencing engine failure. Don't think it's because of the cargo, but you can't be too careful around these freaks." He considers adding 'over' to the end of his transmission, decides against it. It's just like playing spies with Stan a pair of walkie talkies when he was little. He just has to be careful not to overdo it.

The radio crackles back to life, and Ford lets go of a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding. "Roger that, Delta Charlie Tango. Backup is coming your way."

Ford smiles to himself, and then sees the look Pacifica's giving him.

"I hope you're not having second thoughts," he says, trying to make the words sound jocular and light. Pacifica quirks an eyebrow in his direction.

"No, I - Do you really think that's how we talk about you?"

Ford raises a hand, waggles his fingers. "I've been on the receiving end of it often enough, I believe I've captured the gist." He watches Pacifica's expression turn thoughtful, asks, "Did you think people didn't talk about us like that?"

Pacifica shrugs, crossing her arms over her chest. "Most people I know don't bother talking about you at all."

Ford glances back in the rearview mirror.

"I notice you're still putting yourself on the 'human' side of the equation," he observes, to no one in particular.

Pacifica doesn't respond.

Ford sighs, reaching over to push open the door. He pulls his stolen gloves back on before he jumps out of the truck, waiting by the door to help Pacifica down after him. The third truck is pulling up behind them, just shuddering to a halt. It’s time to go.

“Signal the others,” he says to Pacifica, who squeezes her eyes shut in apparent concentration. Ford walks around behind the truck, the unfamiliar heavy boots slowing his steps as he approaches the bolted doors holding the children in the back. He reaches up, to unlock or to break the bolt.

And that’s when everything goes wrong.

...

One minute, Stan’s pulling up alongside the convoy stopped on the side of the road, slowing down so he and Nighthawk can both look out and maybe see what’s going on with the convoy and the plume of rising smoke coming from under the hood of the middle truck. The next, he’s slamming on the brakes and killing the engine, ignoring Nighthawk’s protests as he flings the door open and nearly flies out of the station wagon. Nighthawk keeps yelling, but Stan can barely hear him over the pounding of his own pulse in his ears, can barely feel his own feet slapping against the scrabbly gravel of the shoulder.

Nothing feels real or solid until his palm lands on the shoulder of his brother’s Ford’s thick black body armour and spins him around, until the knuckles of Stan’s other hand connect sharply with Ford’s face.

The sting brings Stan abruptly back down to earth. It’s as though a bubble full of cotton that had been surrounding him, insulating him, has suddenly popped, and Stan’s abruptly aware of how loud and sharp the world around him is. There’s a stitch blazing up his side, his legs are burning, his knuckles are split, and the sharp, acrid smell of smoke fills his nose, makes him want to cough. The shouts from the men running towards him are piercing, falling on Stan’s ears as meaningless noise.

“You sunovabitch,” Stan snarls down at Ford, who’s lying on the side of the road, staring up at Stan like he’s just seen a ghost. “You - you -”

Ford’s voice is breathy, choked, as though Stan’s wrapped a hand around his throat and squeezed instead of cracking his knuckles against Ford’s cheekbone. “Stanley? How -”

Up until now, Stan’s been kind of on the fence about this whole Brotherhood thing. Sure, he knows what the jerks on TV have to say, he remembers Crampelter and how the kids at school treated Ford, he knows Wendy’s had to run away, he knows how his dad reacted - but his dad’s always wanted him gone, one excuse less or more wouldn’t have changed that. The jerks on TV are the same old jerks on TV, picking on anybody and everybody they can get a rise out of, just looking for attention, everybody knows you can’t believe a word they say. Kids were bullies - Stan himself had been on the receiving end just as often as Ford had, and for similarly nonexistent reasons. And people’d treated him like shit the whole time he was living in the Stanleymobile without even knowing what he was - without him even knowing what he was. You didn’t have to be a mutant for the world to kick you in the teeth, over and over and over again. And no matter what guys like Nighthawk had to say, Stan couldn’t buy that there was anything - anyone - who was so particularly out to get them that it was worse than what life just naturally dealt to anybody with the gall not to be rich and famous.

In the dark inside the back of the truck that’s just come speeding away from the school, the truck that Ford’s just thrown open, kids - kids - are piled on each other like parcels, little unconscious bundles of bright pastel pyjamas stacked up like little corpses.

Up until now, Stan hadn’t understood.

A little boy’s delicate, iridescent insect wing twitches, and Stan sees red.

Ford’s pushed himself up on his elbows when Stan rounds on him again, the look of stunned disbelief slowly ebbing into an all-too-familiar irritation. This time, though, Stan doesn’t give him a chance to say whatever he’s lining up on his tongue.

“What,” he asks, before Ford can open his mouth, taking in the sight of Ford’s stupid outfit, the stupid eagle insignia on his arm, the same as the one on the sides of all three trucks, “you got sick of taking it and decided it was time you got a chance to dish it out instead?”

Ford’s voice is exasperated, exhausted. “Would you let me explain? This isn’t what it looks like -”

“Oh, what,” Stan forces out, around the huge, hot thing that seems to have lodged itself in his chest. “This was an accident?”

He feels a little surge of vicious pride at the flinch Ford tries to hide, but it’s quickly swallowed up and swept away by the tide of fury.

“That’s different -” Ford starts, and Stan squeezes his fists tight.

“Yeah? You wanna explain to me how?”

“Stanley, you’re being ridiculous -”

“I’m being ridiculous?”

“You’re both ridiculous!” a high, unfamiliar voice shouts, and Stan is abruptly reminded that there’s a world beyond him and his brother this asshole he unfortunately shares his DNA with. Pacifica Northwest is glaring daggers at both Stan and Ford, her hands balled into tiny fists at her sides and her feet planted in a pretty passable boxing stance. “This is not the time or place for your...” She glances from Ford to Stan, studying his face for a long moment. “Your sibling squabbles!”

Ford shoots one more dirty look in Stan’s direction, before pushing himself to his feet and turning to face Pacifica, away from Stan. “Of course. There are far more important things to worry about right now than petty grudges that would have been resolved long ago if someone could only admit their wrongdoing and apologise -”

Stan hits him again.

It’s a dirty move, the kind that got him kicked out of boxing. His left fist collides with Ford’s ear, and Ford is stumbling back, trying to catch his balance. Before he can, Stan lashes out to punch him again - or, at least, he tries to, but Ford steps shortly back out of Stan’s reach and, when Stan starts to overbalance, grabs Stan by the wrist of his leading arm and they both tumble to the ground in a tangle of flailing limbs.

Stan's not sure exactly what happens next, or in what order. Dimly, he’s aware there are shouts, rattles and pops of gunfire, screams, from around him, but all Stan can really hear is the rush of his own blood in his ears. Ford stubbornly refuses to stay down as Stan wrestles with him, trying to keep him from getting up while trying to get to his own feet, narrowly missing taking Pacifica down with them. Ford tries to elbow Stan in the stomach, but it’s a shallow, glancing blow, since Ford’s pinned face-down with little room to gain leverage. It’s enough to wind Stan for a moment, though, enough for him to loosen his grip.

“And here - I was - worried - about you,” Stan coughs out, as Ford scrambles away, pushing himself up to his knees.

“I’m very sorry about this,” Ford says, shortly. “Nothing personal.”

Before Stan can ask what the hell that’s supposed to mean, cold sinks its teeth into him. He tries to get up, but finds himself stuck - his arms and legs glued to the ground, encased in ice.

There are helicopter blades whupping somewhere overhead, too low, too close. A voice, alarmingly deep, rises over the other shouts, growing and growing in volume until it drowns all other sounds, sets Stan's eardrums buzzing, lances pain through his head - until it's abruptly cut off. The ice is taking forever to melt, it keeps smothering the flames he manages to briefly summon up, and no matter how Stan strains against it, refuses to break.

He turns to glare at Ford and finds Ford staring, as still as though he's the one who's frozen in place, not Stan. "Take a picture, it'll last longer," Stan snarls, and Ford gives a little shudder, like he's just waking up. The look on his face is - indescribable. If Stan didn't know better he'd almost call it pity.

"Stanley," he breathes, "you...?"

"We're twins, poindexter," Stan sighs.

"You! On the ground! Now!"

Ford turns at the shout, and Stan gives an aborted yelp as the butt of the gun held by the soldier who'd shouted slams into the side of his brother's Ford's face. Ford crumples, his glasses skittering across the ground towards Stan, who doubles his efforts to break out of Ford's stupid ice prison.

The ice holding down Stan's right arm finally gives, with a crackle and a wrench that makes him feel like his shoulder's about to come out of its socket. It burns as he reaches over and slings fire at the squad of guys in black flak jackets and cargo pants coming running towards them with heavy artillery trained on them. It burns as he focuses the flame on his other arm, trying to melt his way free. It burns as he wrenches his other arm free as well, too late to stop the couple of commandos who scoop Ford's limp body up like a sack of cement. Too late to stop the one who takes careful aim at the centre of Stan's own forehead.

Too late.

[guttersvillemayor]

Late Night Confrontations

[In the days and weeks since I’d come back home, it was a struggle to find my way. If I thought I’d find a job with my skill set easily enough, I was sadly disappointed. And one night after several drinks with Wendy and Teddy, both of whom had to leave to get sleep for work the next morning, I found myself alone at Louie’s Diner. It was a place I knew very well, in some ways too well, as I had worked there some in high school and all through college. The owner was like a loveable uncle who was close with several of his loyal employees and regular customers. That night he had been filling in as cook to help out one of those employees and saw me sitting at the bar. Even made a joke about my sad looking face. He was yet another person I couldn’t bring to tell my troubles to, no matter how much he tried to pry it out of me. Louis Doucet had been one of the first people to take a notice in my love of photography, told me I had talent. Even bought a couple of my photographs over the year which still hung in the diner. To admit that I was flat on my ass with nothing to show for it after everything would hurt almost as much as it would to do so with my parents. It was bad enough that I was paranoid about most of my brothers figuring out that something was rotten in the state of Denmark, though if any of them had they hadn't mentioned it to me or my parents yet. Louie eventually stopped pushing and instead did what he always did best, offer a port in the storm. It started out with me simply asking how things were going considering he was working the overnight shift and ended up with him mentioning that he was down a person or two. It’s hard to describe the emotion I felt when he asked if I wanted to pick up a shift or two to make extra money. He was clearly trying to save my pride and dignity by not suggesting I was unemployed while still giving me a source of income. Thankfully I’d held out on the urge to cry until I got safely into my car afterwards. I hadn’t truly felt how far I’d fallen until that moment I had to pull over into a dark parking lot during my drive home because I was crying so hard that the sobs were wracking my body. It was easy to compartmentalize and not fully acknowledge my situation except for in moments like that when it stared me so boldly in the face with nothing else to pull my attention and distract me. After that, I made sure to keep busy and occupied any moment when I wasn’t job hunting. I also slowly started to add a couple more shifts at the diner until I found myself once again working there as a full-time employee, mainly covering the overnight shift. Something about working graveyard fit me and my current emotion state better. Like tonight with the tension from another family dinner still hanging around me like a cloud of dirt circling Pig-Pen from the Peanuts comic strip. It hadn’t been as much of a production as the one held the first night I came home, but that also might have been what made it easier for my family to pick up on the things I was saying or, in some cases, not saying. I’d told my parents I was going to hang out with Teddy, when in reality I was coming to work. It was an excuse I’d already used several other times since I started at the diner. I didn’t know why I couldn’t bring myself to admit to them I had gone back to work at my college job, but it was just another thing piled onto the others that I hadn’t told them. Lying was becoming more complicated and no long the little white lies that I felt wouldn’t upset my parents too much.

It was a few hours into my shift when the door opened, causing the bell to chime alerting myself and the cook we had new patrons. For the last 15 minutes we’d been sitting around doing nothing since our last customer left. Something that happen occasionally during early weeknights as most people didn’t go out late Mondays through Wednesday. Not a lot of partying left the French Quarter those days, at least not in this part of town. Sliding off the chair in the kitchen, I yell out to whoever entered the diner.] I’ll be right with you. [It wasn’t until I walked through the swinging door and looked up that I realized my newest customers were in fact my brothers, though thankfully only two of the five. The twins to be exact. With almost matching rueful looks, they slide into the bar stools in front of me. I’m not sure if the look is because their little sister is working in a diner at the age of 29 when they know I used to make a better living or because it’s almost 2am and they’re in an empty diner usually populated by college students or people who had been out late drinking… in some cases those college students had been the ones drinking. Though there were also ones who were just up late studying. Either way, I knew my brothers didn’t fit any of those descriptions and, in fact, probably had work early at the family-owned construction company. My eyebrow raises instinctively as it has done several times in the past with them.] What brings you two bozos into a respectable place like this after midnight? [I pause for a bit, momentarily thinking about ignoring the fact that they somehow found out about my late night job, but I’m more irked and curious causing me to speak again before either of them can answer my first question.] Okay, how did you find out about me working here again, do the other guys know and most importantly, did y’all tell Mom and Dad? [The Twins chuckle awkwardly, an inherited trait from both our parents. However, it’s Jackson who speaks up first. He was always the more smooth talking of them. Jonah was more of a goofball, and together they made an act growing up that caused more than its fair share of trouble. “It wasn’t hard to see that something was up at dinner tonight. Even Reba commented on it on the drive back home.” It sounded reasonable enough, but as my gaze darts from Jackson to Jonah, I realize the latter is still feeling a bit too awkward.] Wendy said something to you, didn’t she? [The look on Jonah’s face is almost comical… okay, who am I kidding, it’d be downright hilarious if I wasn’t so annoyed with both my brothers and now one of my best friends as well. Actually both best friends as I’m sure it’s Teddy who spilled the diner beans to Wendy in the first place. “Look she only told me tonight because she was worried about you after dinner.” “And Reba really did comment on it,” Jackson adds to support Jonah. “It wasn’t until I’d mentioned it to Jonah that he told me.” My head starts to shake furiously as I work out the timeline for all of this to have even occurred] Dinner ended only four hours ago. Are you telling me that you two girls text each other late into the evening? [My incredulous look and tone only serves to make my older 36-year-old brothers blush slightly.] You two are fucking ridiculous. [Throwing my hands into the air, I turn away from them and reach back for the menus before slamming them down a bit in front of the Twins.] Order something and tip heavily… [Once more, I turn away and head towards the kitchen, still shaking my head and muttering.] Fucking ridiculous.

[It takes me a couple minutes to get a hold of my emotions. To not completely freak out about what’s happening and being confronted with the reality of my situation. But eventually I do go back out to the front where the Twins are still sitting at the bar, keeping a cautious gaze on me. Not letting them control the conversation, I quickly jump to be the first to speak once again. My pad in one hand while the other hand is pointed at their menus.] So do you two know what you want? I’m sure you can interrogate, lecture or whatever it is you came to do to me once I put your orders in. [Jonah easily orders a burger, but Jackson looks like he wants to say something else until he gets a nudge in his side. Then he follows Jonah’s lead for a burger as well… Guess there’s nothing like a nice, juicy burger in the middle of the night while confronting your little sister about her poor life choices. I quickly write up their orders, pull the slip from my pad and place it on the serving window for Wayne, the cook, to make. With that out of the way and drinks finally served, I have nothing left to delay matters. My body resting back against the counter, arms crossed defensively.] So what is it that was so important to say that you guys came out here in the middle of the night instead of just waiting until tomorrow? [The twins look at one another, yet another sign of their silent communication which I’d seen over the years. As if deciding who would do the talking, though I think we all knew it would be Jackson as Jonah would end up fumbling things as he usually does. I’m still not sure how he got Wendy to date him much less agree to marry him. However, I’m pulled from that line of thinking when their gaze lands on me once more. “Look, EJ, we know you’re a grown woman.”] Yes, I know that as well. [Jackson gives me a sharp look for cutting him off. “But the reason we came down here in the middle of night instead of waiting is because we know that you’d do anything to weasel your way out of talking to us. At least this way, you’re getting paid while you do it. Besides, we should be asking you what the hell you’re doing working here again anyway. I thought Mom said you were coming back to work here at a newspaper or something.” My gaze, which had been angrily leveled at my brothers, darts away quickly. One of those white lies coming to bite me in the ass. Not that I had lied, per se. More like I didn’t correct my mother when she made that assumption and then preceded to share it with others. My living back at home was seen as a way to save up money until I found the perfect place. I don’t bother to say anything in regards to that, and Jackson decides to just keep on going. “We’re worried about you, sis. You’ve been keeping things from us all. I mean even Wendy didn’t know the truth about you working here.” “Yeah, she was clearly upset when she told me what she’d found out from Teddy. You two are supposed to be best friends, Emma Jean.” Jonah’s tone as he cuts in only serves to rile me up. Here was a clear example of how my friendship would be different with Wendy now that she was going to be married to my brother. And I know Jackson can practically read on my face that the interruption wasn’t helping the situation as he stays Jonah with his hand before continuing on again. “What happened to our little sister who at least told her best friends everything? I mean you’re living back with Mom and Dad, pretending to be working as a photographer when instead you’re back to being a waitress. You know you could come to work at the company if you needed a job until you got back on your feet if that was the case.” I roll my eyes at that suggestion. Clearly he wasn’t understanding why I was willing to go to the lengths I was… not that I could rightly say that I always understood them myself. “But I guess that would mean actually being honest with mom and dad about what was going on in your life.” Point one for Jonah. “True, look we just want to understand. Even Jasper was mentioning to me the other day that he thought something was wrong with you. He was ready to call a Mosby family meeting with the rest of guys if things went on much longer.” So apparently the other brothers didn’t know. However, I still tense up at the fact that I had so poorly hidden my problems from them. Despite my paranoia, I was sure I could go on until I found a new job, but I guess that was the denial talking.] Are you going to… [The ding of the cook bell causes me to jump a bit, and I hastily turn away to grab the twins’ food from the window. Softly thanking Wayne as he goes back deep into the kitchen to take care of his own business. The plates make a soft clank against the bar counter and I can feel the gaze of both Jackson and Jonah on me before Jackson’s hand reaches out to gently cover mine. “Only because we care and so do they. You can’t keep this hidden any more. But we won’t tell mom and dad. At least not until we can all talk some sense into you.” They both chuckle as I pull my hand back letting them dig into their food. Taking the time to allow things to settle, I go about refilling their barely touched drinks and then doing some menial tasks to keep me busy. However, it’s not long before we’re once again confronted with our paused conversation. This time Jonah doing some of the talking. “We’re not going to push you any more tonight, EJ. But we just had to let you know that you’re better than this and that we want to do what we can to help you get back on your feet. All of us.” Our eyes lock and the look in his is clearly letting me know he’s talking about Wendy. Really? Now I’m seriously not sure how I feel about their relationship and in a way it feels like another piece in the Jenga tower of my life has been removed and shifted into a new place. How I haven’t fucking toppled over yet is an absolute fucking mystery to me. Not feeling safe to speak with all the emotions once again swirling in my head and my chest, I simply nod my head in reply and then write out their ticket and place it between the two of them. My voice slightly thick when I do finally say something, pointing to the check.] Just leave some cash. I have to go help Wayne with something in the back, [Not sparing another look towards my brothers, my hands reach out to push the swinging door open as I make a quick exit. It doesn’t take long for the tears to start threatening my vision, causing it to blur more with each second. Each shaky, shuddered breath expelling slowly from my lungs before I swallow down another gulp of air. The struggle to breathe and calm myself is like a heavy rock on my chest until finally I hear the bell on the door jingle. A watery glance towards Wayne confirms that the twins left and I can once again breath a little easier, but not by much. A couple minutes pass before Wayne walks over to me, gently placing his weathered hand on my shoulder. “Why don’t you go home, kid. I doubt we’re gonna get anymore customers before the early morning rush and Christy will be in by then. I can hold down the fort until then.” My head is such a mess at this point that I don’t even fight it and just nod at his suggestion. An hour later as I lay in bed emotionally exhausted, I try to remember how exactly I got home from work and then I wonder what the hell I’m going to do when I’m finally confronted by all five of my brothers… or worse, my parents.] I am so totally fucked.