#and the minute we got something even just *looking* like machine consciousness people went

[rackartyg]

it is indescribably funny to me how the expression of anti-android prejudice in detroit: become human struck me as cartoonish and absurd when the game first came out, but these days that's literally how people talk about chatGPT

[sinnerclair]

wip of goose chase

It was a cool morning in Norfolk, Virginia. The folks were conversing among themselves. Today was the day that the Dreamcatcher would be arriving and departing at 5pm. In his house, Charlie Taylor was talking with his mother, Betsy Taylor.  

“When you get back, make sure to help your sister Bess with the cows,” his mother said.  

Charlie nodded as he rummaged through his bag for his train ticket, eventually finding it and placing it neatly in his pocket.  

“Alright, ma. I’m leaving for Ellsworth.” He approached the front door.  

“Stay safe, dear. Northerners are nasty folk sometimes.” Betsy warned. Charlie glanced at her before leaving.

The Norfolk train station was packed, which was unusual. Charlie squeezed through the crowd to the front. There was the Dreamcatcher, a large steam locomotive. It was quite an old model, dating back to when these machines were first being used, roughly 30 years ago. People soon began piling into the train, and Charlie soon followed suit. As he got in, he gave his ticket to the men at the doors and sat down in one of the leather seats which were damaged in some spots. The train’s horn was heard, signalling the train’s departure. Charlie kicked his legs at the metal floor as the train left the station.

The train ride for the most part was quiet, long, and boring. Some folk talked about shopping, their children, or plans they had for when the train stopped in Maine. The train soon went into a dimly lit tunnel, the only light being the sparks that came off the wheels from the train tracks. However, the train car began to feel unusually warm. Charlie shifted uncomfortably around in his seat as he picked at the buttons of his tweed sweater.

The heat only got worse as the train ride went on. Eventually the train’s windows went dark. Charlie coughed as the air began to fill with light smoke until an explosion went off and Charlie immediately blacked out.

Everything was black for Charlie still. He felt disconcerted, nauseous, and dizzy. He laid on what felt like sand for a few minutes before being poked by someone.

“Hello? Are you alive, sir?” They had an accent that seemed to originate from the Carolinas.

He squinted to regain consciousness, staring at the person who pulled him off Death’s doorstep. It was a woman with a pastel pink Southern belle-style dress that reached to her ankles.

“Oh! You are alive. Good to know I didn’t just poke a dead body!” She chuckled.

Charlie got to his feet and held his head, which was pounding. His ears rang badly.

The woman had introduced herself as Florence Ward. She was from North Carolina and also was on the Dreamcatcher before its untimely demise. While she rambled, Charlie could only worry about his mother back home. She was going to be worried sick.

“Hello? Are you listening, Charlie?”

“Oh, uhm, yes.” He lied.

Florence glared at him. Charlie sighed.

“Where even are we? Are we even in Virginia anymore?” he said.

Florence shrugged, “I would say I knew where we were, but the only sign I found had worn out paint and I could barely read what it said.” Charlie facepalmed.

Florence and Charlie wandered through what seemed to be an endless desert until they spotted a group of gentlemen looking around in confusion. Florence raced over to them. Charlie stumbled after her. The two men had introduced themselves as Edward Louis Gray and Claude Ellis, both from Pennsylvania.

“Were you on the Dreamcatcher too?” Charlie inquired. They both nodded.

“I don’t quite understand what happened. An explosion just suddenly happened. The train seemed fine.” Edward, who had a slight British accent, said.

“I knew something was wrong the moment the train got uncomfortably warm.” Claude added. Everyone else nodded.

“Do you at least know where we are?” Charlie desperately asked. Florence snickered at him.

“Are you going to ask everyone that in hope to get an answer? I don’t think anyone recognizes where we are.”

Charlie sighed, “I guess you’re right.”

Edward eventually spoke up, “There’s nothing bad about having a look around. Let’s see if there’s any towns around.” Claude nodded in agreement as Florence pouted. Eventually, all four of them headed North in a desperate attempt to find anything in the desert wasteland they ended up in.

After almost an hour of searching, everyone was about to give up. Even Edward, who kept insisting the group keep moving despite their many protests and groans.

“Are we even going anywhere? My feet are killing me.” Florence complained.

Nobody responded to her as they were all equally exhausted. As if miracles existed, they began to see a sign up ahead. When they reached it, it turned out to be an entrance to a town by the name of Harpsville, with a population of forty-five.

“Quite the small town.” Claude commented.

“Never heard of it either.” Charlie added.

When they entered the town, it was like they were back in Virginia again. Townsfolk were talking everywhere, kids were playing, and Charlie swore he could hear an auctioneer babbling on. Florence soon went out of sight and so did the others when Charlie realized he had slipped into a daydream while analysing the town.

“Guys? Where did you go?” He looked around in worry.

“Charlie! Get your butt over here before I drag you over here!” Florence was heard.

“Hold on, jeez.” He replied as he speedwalked over to her.  

The group had wandered to the heart of Harpsville, known as the Harp.

“Let’s try to find a mayor. Maybe they know how we got here.” Claude suggested. Everyone agreed as they looked around for some type of local mayor’s office. But, before they could move, they felt a presence.

“What are you non-locals doing here in Harps?” Someone growled behind Charlie. They had a Southern accent that Charlie only ever heard when his mother was mad. They nervously turned around to a woman who was two times Charlie’s height, towering over them. She was clad in cowboy wear with a rifle on her back with the initials SM carved in gold on the forestock. Charlie felt himself shrink a few inches as he quickly chose to hide behind Edward, who raised an eyebrow at the woman. She merely laughed at Charlie’s cowering.

“Don’tcha worry, partner. I ain’t going to hurt ya. Unless you give me a reason to.” She chuckled.

“Stop scarin’ him for God’s sake!” Florence snarled.

“I ain’t tryna scare. I’m tryna warn.” The woman replied, “Name’s Scarlett Morris. I’m the bounty hunter of Harpsville. Nice to meet y’all.” She tipped her hat at them.

“Bounty hunter? So, you kill people for money?” Florence gasped.

“I kill the bad people for money. It’s how I keep nonlocals like you out.” she nudged Charlie with her rifle.

“But we didn’t even mean to be here!” Charlie protested.

“Still, it’s my job to keep this town safe.” Scarlett said. “And she does a darn good job at it! So, I recommend you stay outta her way.” A woman nearby added.

“So, you seem to be liked by this town. But we need to know where we are. We were just in New Hampshire a few hours ago.” Claude said, cutting into the argument. Scarlett scoffed, “Wish I could tell ya. This town’s considered in the middle of nowhere. Never really knew either.” She shrugged.

“Are there any other towns nearby at least?” Charlie piped in.

“Not for another three hundred miles.” Scarlett replied. Florence whined.

They eventually settled near a ranch to get food. Florence hadn’t eaten because she wished to make something with the vegetables she had bought and that she had a few caramel candies in her dress pocket to snack on. Scarlett had decided to tag along with the group to keep them safe, but Florence seemed to completely disregard her motives and stayed a fair distance from her.

“Do you think we could find a post office? The seal could tell us where we are.” Florence suggested. Scarlett looked over and shook her head, “Our seal only says Harpsville. We aren’t an established town in Texas yet.”

“How did we end up in Texas?” Charlie tilted his head.

“Now that’s a question I don’t know the answer to.”

Meanwhile in Norfolk, the news of the missing Dreamcatcher had been the talk of the town for a few hours now. The parents of the 5 missing teenagers were huddled around a nearby church.

“The train shouldn’t be too far from the border of New Hampshire and Maine. Maybe they could look around there?” Harvey, Charlie’s father, suggested.

“They already checked near Conway. Didn’t find anything there.” Fleur, whose son James was one of the missing, said.

Betsy hadn’t spoken. She had a worried look on her face. Eventually, the group had a moment of silence to hope their children were alive and well.

Charlie and Edward had decided to explore more of the town to see if any other passengers of the Dreamcatcher had ended up in Harpsville. They eventually found a man named James Silvester.

“I thought I was the only survivor. Everyone here seemed to be as confused as I was when I explained the train, I was on exploded to smithereens.”

“We thought too. This place looked desolate until we found this town. I don’t quite understand how we ended up in Texas out of everywhere.”

“We’re in Texas? How did we end up going South?” James seemed dumbfounded.

Edward shrugged. They brought James to Florence and Claude who were quite happy to know there were other survivors of the possible derailing of the Dreamcatcher. The group noticed it was getting dark, so they looked around for somewhere to stay, eventually settling on an inn named Sunrise. Claude and Edward fell asleep quickly. Florence had gone back outside to see if she could buy more candy despite the late hour.

Charlie was up trying to think of ways the train could’ve ended up in Texas, but alas he came up short. He decided to go to bed once Florence had come back inside.

Meanwhile, while Florence was outside, she had noticed someone. It was a woman in her mid-twenties walking around the Harp as if she was confused. Florence stared in confusion as well, wondering why someone was out here at such a late hour. She walked over to the Harp, only for the person to disappear into the saloon. She stopped and shrugged, turned, and walked back to the inn. Maybe they were just getting a late-night drink.

In the morning, they were awakened by Scarlett firing a ‘morning shot’ as she called it to wake them up. They groggily walked outside to meet Scarlett, who was grinning at them. Florence, grumpy as ever due to being tired, glared at her. Scarlett chuckled at this.

“Why do you need us this early?” Charlie yawned.

“Because y’all ain’t living here if you’re going to be walking around in the middle of the night and goin’ to the saloon. Aren’t y’all like seventeen?” Scarlett scowled.

“No one went outside but Florence, though.” Charlie said.

“That wasn’t me either! It was some woman! I saw her.” Florence retorted.

Scarlett raised an eyebrow before walking up to Florence, “What did this woman look like, exactly?” she asked with a low tone, as if accusing Florence of being the individual.

“I couldn’t see her due to the darkness, but she was wearing a dress. White, and like mine.”

“I will investigate it tonight. You five can go explore, or somethin’. I don’t know what you non-locals do.” Scarlett said before walking off.

An investigation in Norfolk was opened about the missing train a few hours ago. Detective Burns, one of the investigators on the case, was huddled in a small interrogation room with one of the workers at the local station where the Dreamcatcher had been seen before its departure, Madison Smith. The room was dimly lit and slightly uncomfortable due to the incoming summer heat.

“The train was headed towards Ellsworth, correct?” Burns inquired as she looked over, taking a red push pin out of her bun.

“Affirmative. It was carrying a lot of paperboys and girls as Ellsworth had lost most of its own ones due to a mass job shortage, so they needed support from the other newspaper areas across the South and East.” Madison said.

Burns nodded at him and placed a red string in between the two points. She kept the string in place by putting two push pins on Norfolk and Ellsworth. Before they could continue any more questions, a knock came at the door. Burns got up and walked over, answering the door. One of the local newspaper deliverers was there at the door and held a small paper envelope. Burns thanked the person and closed the door.

“Looks like we got a letter coming from Texas.”

As she opened the envelope, there was a small postcard inside that explained that they had reportedly found the remains of the Dreamcatcher in a ditch 300 miles away from any civilization, which had at once made Burns’ face contort to one of skepticism.

“What does it say?” Madison piped in, leaning back in his wooden chair.

“Apparently some folk found the remains of our train in the Texas panhandle. Don’t believe it in the slightest but my gut is saying we should ride down there. Borrow a stagecoach, maybe?” Burns said, fixing her bun.

“Let’s wait it out a bit. We still need to check around, there’s blind spots, y’know.” Madison said. Burns nodded.

The group of five had been spending hours trying to find any source of how they ended up in Texas. But they came up short.

“Are we going to be stuck here forever?” Florence complained.

“I hope not. I’d hate to hear your whining every day.” Scarlett snickered. Florence growled at her.  

“Anyways,” she continued, “y’all are going to stay at my family’s ranch until the sheriff can find out how to get y’all back in Virginia.”  

Charlie was relieved. Finally, somewhere he was familiar with, a ranch. When they got to ranch, which wasn’t too far from where they walked from, Scarlett left back to the Harp, Florence shooting her a glare before she got out of sight. There was a homestead in front of them, its brown paint seeming at least a decade old with how faded and chipped it was. It had two gray windowsills with faded lilac curtains adorned on each side of the windows. A white portico hung above, providing shade for two chairs set outside. They entered the homestead, which at once alerted a younger child as they ran over to them, tugging on Florence’s dress. She looked down and raised an eyebrow at the child. It was a girl who looked easily five or six, nothing more. She was small and wearing a white dress patterned with sunflowers and trimmed with lace at the sleeves and bottom hem of the dress. She wore small white Mary Janes with frilly ankle-height socks. She was pale and blonde with freckles around her arms, face, and legs.

“Are you the people my sissy is letting stay? She told us a lot about you!” She giggled as she stared at them with large, round hazel eyes. A subtle southern accent laced her voice.

“Yes, we are.” Claude replied, ruffling her hair.

“My name’s Carmen.” she replied as she tilted her head.

James crouched to her level, speaking gently, “Where is your parents?”

“Oh, they’re upstairs. I can get my mom!” she gleefully said as she beamed.

Claude smiled, “That’d be wonderful. Why don’t you fetch her right now? We could use another adult.”

Carmen nodded vigorously and skipped upstairs. As the group waited for the young girl to return with her mother, James started to analyze the place. The homestead was decorated with painstaking detail. The wall was faded with a Norwall wallpaper, which displayed bluebonnets against a beige background. The floors were wooden and mostly spotless. Many papers were framed, congratulating Scarlett and two other individuals on their performance in all sorts of weapon-related activities.

“Looks like this family has a history of bounty hunting, eh?” he commented.

“My family were assassins before we moved here, so not always.” A voice said, a rough southern drawl going with it.

Charlie jumped slightly at the sudden voice but turned around. A woman was standing there. She looked to be in about her 50s or 60s. Carmen was hiding behind her legs, peeking out at them with a smile. She was pale with sunken eyes, short gray hair that barely grazed her shoulders. She had a long pink scar going vertically down her left eye, and some minor scars on her cheek.

“Assassins? So, you are the people who kill for money?” Florence said, her skeptical attitude returning.

“Were. You’re makin’ me sound like a horrible person. Use the correct tense next time.” She growled, her southern accent intensifying.

“But you did used to do it, yes?” Florence spat.

“Only ‘till me and my husband John moved here about 30 years ago. Folk here didn’t quite agree with the term ‘assassin’, so we were labelled as bounty hunters instead. Except we don’t necessarily have to be humane anymore.” she replied.

Florence blinked at the unexpected response. She was used to having the upper hand in arguments. Guess not today.

“Name’s Charity Morris,” the woman continued. “Mother of Permelia, Scarlett, Carmen and Pierce.”

“We’ve met Carmen and Scarlett. Where’s the other two?” Edward asked.

“Pierce doesn’t come out to have a chat usually. He’s out huntin’ right now. Permelia is out in Kentucky fulfilling a bounty offer she was given due to the lack of skill in the own town’s hunters.”

“Ah. Understandable.”

For the day the group stayed at the ranch, not daring to move anywhere else. Everyone was content, except Florence who kept complaining how hot it was. Charlie and Claude were talking with Charity and her husband, John, while Florence helped Carmen with feeding the animals. Scarlett eventually came through the door.

“Did the sheriff say anything?” Claude asked.

“Unfortunately, the sheriff doesn’t know how to get y’all back without a train. He’s sayin’ we don’t have any railway systems either. So, I don’t know what to tell ya.” Scarlett shook her head. Charlie frowned.

“Florence isn’t going to be happy.” he replied.

“I don’t think anyone is going to be happy. We’re stranded.” Claude added.

Meanwhile, Scarlett had gone outside to tell the news to Florence and Carmen. Carmen ran over to Scarlett and hugged her leg. Florence gave her a scrunched-up attempt at a frown.

“Bad news. The sheriff has no idea how to get your group back to Virginia.” Scarlett said as she ruffled Carmen’s hair. Florence whined and kicked the sand in frustration, storming back into the homestead. Scarlett rolled her eyes as she picked up Carmen and headed back inside.

The investigation in Norfolk was coming up devastatingly short. All clues lead to dead ends, and nothing made sense. Betsy was endlessly pacing in the town square, it was only a day since the Dreamcatcher had gone missing, but it felt like weeks to Betsy without her son. Detective Burns and the rest of the investigators on the case had finally decided to listen to the letter sent and headed down south to Texas where the remains supposedly were, and once they got there, they realized the letter wasn’t lying about its condition. It was already rusting and very damaged.

“Do you remember seeing any…corpses inside?” Burns reluctantly asked the question to the men who had sent the letter. They shook their heads. Detective Burns dusted off the side of the train to confirm the authenticity of the remains, and although most of the paint had been scraped off in the accident, the Dreamcatcher’s golden nameplate stood, glistening in the sun.

In Harpsville, Charity was talking to the sheriff. She had her suspicions the man was purposefully lying to them to keep them there, which she was not happy about.

“I thought we had a workin’ train system near the Smith’s ranch? Are ya demented or somethin’?” she hissed.

He blinked at Charity, pursing his lips as he tried to lie his way out of this. But she saw right through him, and it made her even more furious.

“You’re lyin’, aren’t ya? Answer me, goddammit!” She slammed her fists on the table, making Oakley flinch. He could barely respond as he tripped over his words, trying to find an excuse that would diffuse this woman’s ticking bomb of anger. It only resulted in her grabbing him by the arm and forcing him to look at her. He squirmed in her grip as he panicked, sweat dripping down his temples.

“You’re lucky I ain’t an assassin anymore, Ellison, because I would’ve already beheaded your stupid self.” She dug his nails in his arm.

Elison stared at her with wide eyes. He was petrified.

“Don’t try to run, Ell. Because I won't be afraid to go back to my old ways.”

-

Tension was high in Harpsville as Charity’s threat seemed to echo throughout the town like an old church bell. When the group had exited the ranch and entered the town square, they noticed the town was quiet and still, completely unlike the liveliness they had met the day before. Folk was gathered outside their homes and ranches as they clutched their children and spouses close as they could. The group sauntered awkwardly past the people. They felt eyes all over them. They eventually found Scarlett near the Smiths’ ranch and approached her.

“Scarlett? Why is everyone actin’ as if they saw ghosts?” Florence asked.

Scarlett shrugged, “Don’t know. Been tryin’ to get an answer all day. Nobody’s darin’ to speak. It’s like a darn vigil.”

One of the townspeople, a young woman, eventually walked up to the group. Her eyes were sunken. She spoke, her voice laced with fear.

“Sheriff Oakley’s dead. He was found deceased this morning.”

“…What?” Scarlett said, her tone dropping dangerously low.

“He was found with a bullet hole through his chest. Murder, I say! Murder!” she cried.

The entire town began chanting ‘murder’ before Scarlett silenced them and ushered the five back to the Morris’s ranch. Once they had got there and the door closed behind them, Charlie wasn’t the first to notice Charity staring at them with a skeptical expression.

“The hell’s goin’ on out there?” she asked as she approached them.

“Apparently, Sheriff Oakley was found dead this morning. Nobody’s sure who did it but they’re sure as hell it was a murder.” Scarlett explained.

“Sheriff Oakley was murdered, and it wasn’t me? What a surprise.” She said, handling the situation as nonchalantly as one could muster.

“Is there any way you can get us home yet? I want my mom.” Florence butted in with a whine.

“There’s a railway near the Smiths’ ranch, but we still need to see how far the track goes. We know it ends somewhere in Virginia, though.”

“So, are we just going to completely ignore a murder just happened?” Claude said.

“The law will deal with them; we don’t need to be involved more than we are.” Charity replied.

When night fell, Charlie was having a hard time sleeping. It was 2:08 AM, and all he could hear was the chirping of crickets and the others shifting in their sleep. He got up and silently exited his room, staring at the front door. Charlie carefully walked over to it and peeked outside, a soft chill brushing up against Charlie’s face. He grabbed one of the kerosene lamps near the fireplace, lit it, and exited outside.

Despite having his tweed sweater, the cold night air made Charlie shiver. He began heading towards the entrance to the Harp when he saw a figure walking around. He froze up as his breath hitched in his throat. Who was out this late? He watched the figure appear again, peeking out from behind the local post office. They looked left and right before disappearing behind the building again. Charlie took a cautious step into the Harp, not seeing the figure anywhere and assumed he was just seeing things due to how cold it was. Despite the figure not being anywhere in sight, Charlie felt a sense of dread. He swallowed down his fear and continued further until he heard a noise from the saloon nearby.

He looked over. The noise sounded like bottles clinking together and corks being popped. Charlie walked over, pushed back the swinging saloon doors, and inside. In front of him was a woman who looked to be in mid-twenties. She was holding a large bottle of whiskey in her hand and was visibly tipsy.

“Uh- ma’am? The saloon closed five hours ago.” Charlie tried speaking to her.

“I know…” She trailed off, blinking. It was as if she was trying to form a coherent thought.

“Then why are you here?” He asked.

“Just gotta lay off some…stress. Yeah.” She smiled crookedly, revealing a snaggletooth.

“Do you know anything about the recent murder of Sheriff Oakley?” Charlie hesitantly asked.

“Oh, yeah. Him.” She snickered a little “I killed ‘im. But if ya say anythin’ about me to the investigators, I’ll do the same to you.”

Her words sent a chill down Charlie’s spine before he backed up and bolted out of the doors and ran towards the homestead. He knew one thing, and it was that he did not want to be here anymore.

Charlie hadn’t been able to sleep since that encounter. He wanted to tell Scarlett and Charity about it, but both had left the house by the time he had left his room. When he did, he saw Florence handing out brownies to everyone in the living room, where he saw an unfamiliar figure.

“Oh! Charlie! There you are!” Florence smiled and walked over. “Do you want a brownie?”

“Oh, sure. Thank you.” He forced a smile before grabbing the brownie from the silver baking sheet.

The unfamiliar figure looked over at them and got up. She looked a lot like Scarlett, except her chestnut brown hair had blonde streaks, presumably due to the sun, and had freckles all over like Carmen.

“Howdy!” The woman waved.

“This is Permelia, the woman that was out in Kentucky. She just came back after the news of the murder spread like wildfire.” Florence explained.

He swallowed dryly and spoke, “Something happened last night. I went outside, which admittedly was a very stupid decision, and saw a figure walking around. I followed them and heard a noise from the saloon. This woman was inside. She was very visibly drunk, swaying and all. I asked her if she knew anything about the murder and…she admitted to being the culprit.” Charlie’s voice fell quiet at the last part.

“She…killed the sheriff? What did she look like?” Florence asked.

“…White dress, like yours. Blonde hair. Sunken eyes. Which was weird, she didn’t even look that old.”

“I saw the same woman! She was wanderin’ around the Harp before I saw her enter the saloon. Now you’re sayin’ she admitted to killing Oakley?” Florence’s voice was laced with bewilderment.

“And she threatened to do the same to me if I told anyone.”

“I swear to the Lord if that woman puts a single finger on you, it is on.” She growled. Charlie smiled at her boldness.

“I wanted to tell Scarlett or Charity about it, but I don’t know where they went. Do you know where they are?” Charlie inquired with a glimmer of hope in his eyes.

“I believe Permelia told me they were going to the sheriff's office to meet with the investigators that came down from Virginia.” She explained.

“Virginia? That’s where we came from. Do you think they’re here to pick us up too?”

“Maybe. I hope so, though.”

Charlie and Florence had gone to the sheriff’s office, and sure enough they saw Scarlett, but no Charity. The cowgirl saw them and smiled.

“There y’all are. Where’s the other three?” she asked.

Both shrugged.

“We could get them if you’d like.” Florence suggested, pointing back with her thumb.

Scarlett shook her head, “No, no, it’s alright. You two are the ones the investigators need the most anyway. C’mon. I’ll show you where they are.”

Scarlett began walking. Florence and Charlie seemed confused why but decided not to argue with the girl with the gun. When they had entered the office, there were people lining the halls with muskets in hand. Charlie had recognized their uniforms—they were the Richmond sheriff! One of the deputies started ushering Florence and Charlie over to the interrogation room. When they got inside the room, Charlie froze. There was the woman from the saloon. She did not look happy to be there in the slightest. Florence glared at her and moved Charlie closer to her. Eventually the detective told them to sit down.

The woman was revealed to be Prudence Calloway. She had a history of charges in the past, but nothing as big as murder, mostly just assault. She was left off the hook, which was a decision Florence heavily disagreed with, saying she should ‘burn in hell for all eternity for threatening Charlie’, and all sorts of expletives before the detective settled her down.

Charlie had talked to the officers and, unfortunately, they could not bring them back to Virginia, but could send messages to their parents in Norfolk to let them know they were okay.

When they left, Florence and Charlie began to head back to the ranch.

Florence broke the silence, “You know. There’s something I’ve been wanting to tell you, Charlie.”

“Huh?”

“I know we’ve only really known each other for like, a few days or so, but I like you.”

“…” Charlie stopped and looked at her.

“I know, it’s- stupid. I really shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Oh, no. I would be fine…with it. Just surprised. I’ll have to tell my mom, though. She’s weird when it comes to relationships. But it’s just more of a ‘want me to be treated right’ thing. I’m sure she’d approve though.”

Florence smiled.

Chapter 2

When they got back to the ranch, everyone was waiting outside. It was getting late, so everyone went to bed. However, as Charlie tried to sleep, he heard whistling outside. It was quickly interrupted by a woman shouting—which sounded like Florence to Charlie’s tired ears. He got up groggily and looked out the window.

He saw Florence yelling at Prudence, who had somehow found her way onto the property. A whiskey bottle was clutched in her hand. It was clear by the way she was swaying that she was intoxicated. Scarlett must’ve heard the commotion because she had come out and begun ordering Prudence to leave, which was only coherent due to how mad she sounded. Prudence ultimately refused to, leading Scarlett to smack her with her rifle, which made Prudence yell out an expletive and leave. Both Florence and Scarlett went inside, and Charlie finally fell asleep.

Another morning shot was done, except Permelia had fired it. The group walked out front to meet Scarlett and Permelia, who were smiling at them.

“Good news, y’all. The railway systems were fixed, and you all can go home soon. However, the journey is going to take a while, so you’ll be jumping trains to reduce stress and to give y’all time to stretch.” Scarlett explained. Everyone had relieved faces.

Permelia spoke up, “I think I should introduce myself properly now.”

Everyone looked at her.

“The name’s Permelia Morris. I’m the sister of Scar here and the oldest daughter of my momma Charity.”

Charlie smiled, “You have the same name as my aunt. She’s not from Texas, though.”

Permelia grinned, “Alright, ya scoundrels. Let’s get y’all back home.”

The Harpsville train station was much cleaner than the Norfolk Station, at least as Charlie remembered it. His memory was still quite fuzzy. The train they were going on, named Starlight—which Charlie immediately didn’t trust due to the incident with the Dreamcatcher that made the five get into the situation in the first place—had arrived about ten minutes after they had got to the station.

Before everyone left, Scarlett spoke up. “Be safe out there, y’all. It’s been a nice time with you folk. Come back sometime. Just not by some crazy train accident. It’s been enough already for the first time.” Everyone chuckled at that before the train’s horn went off, signalling its departure.

It was only twenty minutes into the journey that Charlie began feeling uneasy. Edward had noticed this.

“You alright, mate? You look as if you swallowed arsenic.”

Charlie looked over at him and fiddled with the buttons of his sweater, “I don’t know. I’m nervous something is going to go wrong again. I think it might just be because of what happened with the Dreamcatcher.” He responded, forcing a smile.

Florence must’ve seen through him because she looked at him with a disappointed look before scooting closer to Charlie and squeezing his hand. Charlie’s face flushed and he looked away. Edward ultimately was feeling uneasy as well. He didn’t want to admit, since he was the oldest of the group. He shouldn’t be feeling uneasy. He sighed and looked out the train’s window, which was slightly blurry due to the speed of Starlight. He noticed the terrain had slightly changed to less desert and to a more rural country area of Texas.

Florence had fallen asleep against Charlie’s shoulder, and he hadn’t moved since. He didn’t want to disturb her sleep. In Norfolk, the messages had arrived, and the parents were much more than relieved.

“Your tellin’ me my Charlie is okay?” Betsy said. She could feel tears in her eyes. It stung in a good way.

“Oh, thank the Lord. Is she going to be okay?” Elmira, Florence’s mother, asked.

Back in Harpsville, the engineer of the Starlight, Edward Simons, had noticed an error in the design of the Starlight and was pacing around in the town square. Lillie Smith, one of the bounty hunters, approached him.

“What in the Lord’s name is goin’ on with you, Simons?” she said coldly. It almost sounded like a snarl.

“You know those folk goin’ on that train back to Virginia?”

Lillie paused for a minute, “Sorta. Permelia has been talkin’ to me about them.”

“Well- I designed the train they went on. I just noticed a design flaw. It can’t go the full way to Virginia. We need to get them back. Before it’s too late.”

Florence had woken to a rather violent shaking of her. She looked up to see a panicked Charlie. He immediately clung to her as Florence looked up, confused about what had happened. The train had stopped, and they were in the middle of nowhere. Again. Florence hugged Charlie and saw Claude was approaching them. Florence nudged Charlie and got up.

“What happened, Claude?” she asked.

Claude shrugged, then sighed.

“I’m unsure. Edward told me to go find James and was wondering if you knew where he was.”

Charlie seemed to have calmed down and spoke up.

“I think he went out for some fresh air right before I started panicking.”

Claude nodded and left.

Back in Harpsville, Scarlett and Charity were getting the horses ready to retrieve the five.

“I’m still mad at Simons for lettin’ that design flaw go through. The kids could’ve died if he realized it any later than this.” Charity sighed in frustration.

“Why don’t you just get the mayor to fire him?” Scarlett asked.

“I would but the mayor hasn’t been seen since those folk had come here. We might have to get them and find out where he is. Unless we’re dealing with a double murder. Wouldn’t be surprised if Prudence murdered him as well.”

Scarlett sighed, “She’s a difficult gal, ain’t she?”

“Yep. Alright, horses are ready. Let’s go find those kids.” Charity hopped onto her Pinto Thoroughbred, and Scarlett got onto her Mustang. They both flicked the reins, and the horses began moving.

Meanwhile, Claude had been looking for James around the area where the train had stopped, but he so far was having barely any luck. He had checked around the train but hadn't found him at all. He was beginning to get worried as he readjusted his fedora.

“James! Where are you, mate?” He called out. There was no response and Claude sighed.

Edward peeked out from the other side of the train, “Any luck with finding him?” he asked.

Claude shook his head and Edward let out a disgruntled sigh.

“Where could that chap be? I told him not to stray far away.” Claude frowned at that. James didn’t seem like the type of person to just wander off like that. Claude only assumed this due to how close he was with James.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to worry you all.” James popped out from the front of the train.

“Christ, mate. I told you to stay nearby. We all thought you left without us to continue the journey to Virginia by foot.” Edward said with an annoyed tone. James shrugged.

Detective Burns and Madison Smith had eventually across Harpsville, and Burns immediately raised an eyebrow.

“Since when was this a town?” she asked. Madison looked up and stared at the sign for a moment.

“No idea. I’ve never been to this part of Texas.” he admitted.

They walked inside and were greeted by a group of bounty hunters. They looked over in their direction, all having mixed reactions. One of them glared, another waved, and one just simply stared at them.

“Hello, folk—do you perhaps know where a group of five teenagers would be? They’ve been missing for a few days now.” Burns asked.

One of them, a woman with brown hair with bleached streaks, had stepped forward.

“What are their names?” she asked as she raised an eyebrow at burns.

“Charlie Taylor, Edward Louis Gray, Claude Ellis, Florence Ward, and James Silvester.”

The bounty hunter nodded, “Yes. They came here for a few days before getting on another train to try to get back to Virginia. But our engineer who made the train, damn him, made a design flaw and were pretty sure they’re stranded again.” she told Burns.

Detective Burns sighed, “Do y’all know if anyone tried to find them?” she asked.

“We have two folk who just left right now to go find them. You may stay here if you like until they return, hopefully, with the kids.”

“That’d be wonderful.” Burns smiled.

The five had been stranded for about twenty minutes but it felt like hours. Luckily, it was bearable since Florence and Charlie had fallen asleep and were curled up together in the corner of the train cart. Nobody bothered them.

Meanwhile, Claude and James were out watching in case anyone rode by that could help them get back to Harpsville. Edward was trying to his best to try and fix the problem with the train, whatever had happened. The sun was beating onto them.

Scarlett and Charity were still riding along the train tracks, looking for any sign of the train. They eventually stopped for a moment and walked their horses to the side and got off them.

“Damn, where did that train go?” Charity sighed.

“Language, ma.” Scarlett said. Charity rolled her eyes.

Smokefall was approaching. Claude and James were beginning to become restless and hopeless, while Edward was beginning to think the train had stopped for no reason. However, explorers Jasper and Almaretta Smith had taken notice of the train and Claude and James who were standing outside, seeming relieved. But—Almaretta had recognized Claude.

“Hold on, is that you, Claude?” she asked.

Claude perked up, “Wait, you’re my mum’s friend, right? Were you sent to look for us?” he inquired.

“Oh, no, we were just exploring. Your mom has been so worried. We would bring y’all back but we’re too far and we don't have enough resources for five more folk to join us.” Almaretta said, her tone filled with regret.

[bradtomlovesya]

Ⓦⓗⓔⓝ ⓣⓗⓔ ⓢⓗⓞⓦ ⓔⓝⓓⓢ Pt. 2 (final)

Warnings: Smut +18!, fingering, bad words, orgasm denied, sub!reader, Dom!Brad, spanking, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it)

Pic: @sash_maxwell on ig.

I woke up due to the light coming through the curtains and got up totally naked to close them and let Brad continue to sleep. I knew he was very tired from the concert and from our hectic session last night.

I bent down to pick up my pantyhose lying on the floor of the room and put them on. I also took the red shirt that had started all of this in the first place and put it on just by buttoning a few buttons.

I turned my head to see Brad peacefully asleep. Today I had the day off so I tried not to make too much noise so as not to wake him up and so that he could get enough rest while I made some coffee. In the hotel room there was only a bed with a nightstand on each side, a three-seater sofa next to the balcony with a coffee table in front of it, a dining-type table and two chairs around it. On the little table next to the sofa there was a coffee machine and complimentary coffee so I decided to take advantage of it and prepare some fresh coffee for when he woke up.

I was preparing the coffee when minutes later his arms around my waist made me jump slightly with fright.

"Fuck! Bradley." I tried to catch my breath. "You scared me." I put a hand to my chest.

"I'm sorry honey." He said hoarsely and a giggle left his lips. "I didn't want to scare you." He flicked my hair to the side and placed a kiss on my neck that sent a huge electric current through my body.

I turned on my heel and wrapped my arms around his neck. "It's okay." I left a short kiss on his lips. "I woke you up?"

"No." He responded with his raspy voice and shook his head causing some of his unruly curls to fall across his forehead. "I patted next to me but you weren't there so I opened my eyes and guess what I saw?" He bit his lip with a smile. 

"What did you see?" I asked with the same smile.

He leaned close to my ear and his lips brushed my earlobe. "I saw you wearing my shirt." He kissed right at that soft spot behind my lobe and took me by the thighs and walked with me to leave me sitting on the table. "It looks so fucking good on you. I could swear the thoughts that haunt my head of the things I want to do to you right now are not healthy at all." He spread my legs, making me gasp. "Can I do the dirty things I'm thinking of doing to you?" He directed his eyes to mine and I could see that they were only his pupils. They were full of desire.

"Brad ..." I gasp. "You just woke up, how can you think about that?" I laughed slightly.

"It's your fault." He spoke seriously. "It's entirely your fault for wearing my shirt, Y/n." He crossed his arms. His expression was one of pure seriousness. "So now all I think about is fucking that cute pussy right against this table while you still have my shirt on so you think about your actions." He clicked his tongue. "However, you know that your consent is important so I need you to say yes."

I beat my eyelids over my white skin not believing what I was hearing. I felt the moisture slide back between my folds and, when I regained consciousness, I moved my lips "Yes, it is a yes, Love." I nodded quickly. My cunt throbbed to feel him inside me again.

"Good because I wasn't going to take no for an answer" He unfolded his arms and took a step towards me. "You shouldn't have worn my shirt if you weren't up for me to fuck you hard, right?" I was silent but he took my face between his fingers for me to speak. "Words, darling. That little mouth isn't just for sucking my cock. Use it to talk."

"Yes, I wanted that when you saw me with your shirt on, you wanted to fuck me" I replied in something a little louder than a murmur.

"Already knew." He released my face. "I just wanted you to accept it" he ran his index finger between my breasts until he finished on my pantyhose. "Look at that pretty face with a fucking perverted mind." He laughed hoarsely and pressed my clit a little with his finger over the fabric making me moan. "Awww, Love." He pouted. "Look how desperate you are for me to touch you."

"Bradley, please stop teasing me and playing with me." I begged. "Please just come into me." I tried to put my hands on the elastic of his boxer to lower it but he stopped me.

"Don't even think for a fucking second that this is about you and what you want." He rudely denied. "This is about me and how much I'm going to enjoy fucking you so fucking hard that all the people in this hotel will know your moans and the name of the person causing them." He put his hand under my underwear and patted my cunt. "So damn wet!" He grunted. He slipped two of his fingers into me without warning and jerked them against my walls that tightened at the feel of him. "Always so tight, my pretty little doll." He curled his fingers reaching up to my G-spot making me scream his name. "It doesn't even look like I had fuck that pretty pussy just last night."

"Brad!" I groaned loudly and threw my head back. "I'm sorry, I really ... Ah!" Another moan as he entered another finger and moved violently causing a series of obscene and delicious sounds that filled the room.

"Alright, I think that pretty vagina is ready to receive me" He pulled his fingers out and moved his finger in circles over my clit causing more moisture to flow down my pussy.

"Yes ... I'm ready" I answered between gasps with my eyes closed and tight. His finger kept moving and sending currents at my most sensitive nerve point. The brown haired boy made a little more pressure and, just as I was about to cum, he withdrew his finger from me making the feeling go away.

"You won't feel it until I decide you should." He brought his fingers to his mouth and sucked them clean. "Always so sweet." He smiled grimly. "Get off the table." He ordered and so I did. "It's time to fuck that cute cunt that only belongs to me" He put his hands on my hips and turned me around. He pushed my back down so my chest was pressed against the table and lifted his shirt off my body only until my ass was exposed. "Do you know what girls get when they misbehave?" He asked me.

"Spanking?" I asked with my cheek pressed against the hard, cold surface of the table's wood. My breathing was erratic, he had already denied me a precious orgasm so I just had to be good to him for him to give me a new one.

"How smart you are, my girl" He came over and placed a kiss on my head. "That's right, spanking." He pressed his hand against the cheek of my butt with force causing a great sound of. Smack!

"You know you should not misbehave" Another spanking with more force than the previous one but on the other side. My ass right now was totally red and the feeling was burning.

And so the spankings came one after the other until they added ten and He decided that had been enough.

"Now what should you say?" He ran his palm up my butt admiring his previous work.

"Thank you Sir." I answered between gasps and wedging my nails around the edges of the table to withstand the heat. Brad got down on his knees and left several kisses on my ass cheeks to make them stop hurting a bit and it worked. "Thank you" I repeated.

"You're welcome, darling" He lowered my underwear, ran the stitch of his crotch over my folds to smear it with a bit of my moisture and seconds later he completely sank into me with one blow making me scream. "Fuck! How good you feel" his hands went to my waist to support himself. "Can I continue?" He asked me leaving a kiss on my back over the fabric of his red shirt.

"Yes, you can ..." I inhaled deeply. "You can continue." Just as I responded, I felt his hips go back and then forward to push himself fully into me, making me whimper. “Fucking hell, Brad!” I yell/moan.

His hips moved in and out of me with needed speed. I didn't think it was possible but he was moving with more force and speed every time. The table legs were grinding against the floor, but we were so caught up in our own pleasure that we didn't care. One of his hands went down until it reached my clitoris and thus began to stimulate me with enough speed and pressure to make me see stars and feel that sensation again in the lower part of my stomach. This, combined with the moans, grunts and obscenities that left Brad's mouth were driving me straight into ecstasy and he noticed it.

His dick tightened me in the only way he knew how and they stimulated all my essential points to transform all possible pain into pleasure. We fit together so well that I could feel the veins of his cock on my walls. I squeezed my vagina earning a growl from him because I knew he loved that. "Cum on my dick, darling. Come on princess" He made a little more pressure on my clit and his thrusts did not lower the force but became sloopy giving me to understand that he was about to finish too.

"Holy shit! Bradley!" I moaned his name and my legs felt like jelly. My walls closed against his member, leading him to cum inside me as well, painting my walls as his. "Ahh!" I moaned again feeling his come and his hands went to my waist to keep me from collapsing on the ground. 

"Fu-ck!" He collapsed on my back and I could feel the sweat on his forehead dampening the fabric of the shirt. "I said I would fuck you with my shirt on and I did." He laid to leave a kiss on my back and his hand went up and down my leg.

"That's right," I nodded trying to normalize my breathing. "I love this shirt" I laughed slightly and felt the vibrations of his laughter on my back. "Babe, I really love you but please get off me, that's overstimulation." I bit my lip.

"Yes, of course" He withdrew his member from inside me with a giggle. I felt myself whimper at the emptiness. "I'm sorry, I just love being there" He held me in his arms and walked with me to the bathroom. "Did I hurt you?" He left me sitting on the edge of the tub.

“No, you’re really careful even when you’re being rude to me” I took his hand and kissed his lips “Come here, let’s take a relaxing bath.” I start filling the tube.

“It would be a pleasure” He leaned to help me take off his shirt and smiled while doing it. “What the fuck do this shirt has that make us so fucking horny?” He laughed.

“I don’t know, babe” I laughed loudly. “I don’t know but let’s use it more often”

[randomshyperson]

Wanda Maximoff x Reader - Dating is still only about love

Summary: Based on the prompt received in AO3 "Reader is a lot like Bucky. Bucky saves Reader, and recruits him to the Avengers team. Reader and Wanda begin to develop a relationship, but it is shy and awkward because Reader is from 1940."  ///////////// Read on AO3 too

Words:  3.914k (one) //  

Warnings: 13+ Fluff and a bit of language, mentions of torture.

Notes: I think this turned out to be more about the 1940 reader in love than anything else, but I hope you enjoy it.

Part II (Special Smut request)

////////////

You are dancing to Glenn Miller in a bar in Brooklyn. Your parents would kill you if they saw you now, spinning in the arms of a stranger. But you laugh, and move your body to the music. 

And then you see Bucky and Steve, entering the place, and you let go of your partner and run to hug them.

- Hi, boys! - You greet them with a smile that they respond to.

- Someone is cheerful. - Bucky jokes looking at your slightly alcoholic state. 

You fake a serious expression. 

- Are you implying that your superior is drunk, Sergeant Barnes?

Bucky laughs at your imitation of an authoritative voice, and you turn to Steve, who looks mildly annoyed. 

- Hey, Rogers. Why the long face? - you ask, and he shrugs. You can tell by Bucky's expression. He had been rejected from the army again, and you let out a sigh and decide to cheer him up. - Come on, Steve! Let's dance!

You pull him by the hand before he can refuse. And eventually, he laughs. Bucky joins you next, and the three of you spin around the room, your steps out of sync as you laugh.

/-/

You try to move but there is something holding you to the surface where you are lying. And then you try to scream for help, but there is something in your mouth that prevents you from doing so. 

You widen your eyes with surprise when a man dressed in white appears in your field of vision, and he fits something cold to your head.

You grumble against the tightness in your mouth, but he just gives you a mocking smile.

- Vital signs? - He speaks in German. You close your eyes tightly when a light goes on in front of you.

- Stable. - Says a second voice in the room that you don't know where it comes from.

- Good. You can apply now.

And then you feel your veins burn, and you scream, but your scream is muffled by the object in your mouth. The pain chokes you until you can't see anything anymore.

/-/

Someone is pulling you. You blink to regain consciousness, but it takes a long time. You are tired, but there is a feeling that is in your body that you don't know.

- Hey, Y/N. - You hear someone calling, and then you take a breath trying to remember. - Can you hear me? Can you walk?

- Bucky... - You grumble and accept the arm he offers you to get up. - Where the...?

- We don't have time, we need to get out of here.

And then you are running out of the compound where you were being held prisoner. Bucky is wearing the same clothes as you. And then you see Steve, but he looks nothing like the Steve you knew. This Steve is tall, and muscular, but still has the same gentle look as your friend. But you don't have time to ask.

-/-/ 

You haven't rested for a long time. But that's okay, you want to help your country win the war. You want to help Steve, and you believe in him. And so you and Bucky jump on a train for him.

- Watch out! - You warn your friends, and they just shrug as they smile.

And things go well for about five minutes, and then one of the Hydra soldiers has a gun pointed at Bucky, and the next second you are jumping on the man. 

When Bucky goes to help you, a second man appears. A grenade explodes ripping out half the compartment and you hear a whistle in your ear. You manage to knock out the man who pinned you down, but then someone kicks you in the back out of the train. You grab the metal bar, and when Bucky is thrown out, you hold him fast. 

You see Steve run up to you two, his hand outstretched in the air to reach you. And then the iron breaks and you both fall.

-/-/

You wake up in a jolt, in a cold sweat. And there are chains on your wrists. You let out an angry grunt.

No one tells you who these men who test you are. And every time you scream or try to free yourself, they inject something that makes you lethargic, and vulnerable. And then they electrocute your mind, and you forget any flash of memory that might appear.

As long as you don't remember who you are, you accept every command they give you.

-/-/

You use a pillar of the building next to you to protect yourself from gunfire. You are starting to get annoyed. 

Your mission is to eliminate the Winter Soldier, or divergent soldier, as your leader has begun to call him.

But he is being particularly difficult to eliminate, especially since there is a man with a shield and a woman with a machine gun protecting him. 

And then you use bombs, and disarm them. The men who came with you keep them busy while you run towards your target, and throw him to the ground with a blow to his ribs.

You arm your knife, but he gets up quickly, fending off every attack as skillfully as you do.

And then he hits you in the face, and your mask falls off. You have a gun pointed at his face next, but the completely shocked look on his face makes you hesitate.

- Y/N? 

- I don't... - You find yourself talking, but then there is a second explosion that distracts you, and then the man disarms you.

You strike back, knocking him to the ground. But you run away, and on your way back to the Hydra establishments, you say that you have lost sight of him.

-/-/

You are being punished. Again. You've been failing a lot in your tests, and you've been unstable for weeks. You don't want to obey any of those people, you want to go back to the man on the road who knew you and ask him about your life.

And then there are shocks in your head, but you don't forget. And then they throw you into a cell, saying that the madness from hunger will take away any memory from you.

But then there are loud noises that you think are coming from bombs. And then the man in the road is in front of your cell, and he rips the door off with a metal arm, and reaches out to help you up.

-/-/

It takes time to get your memories back. But it happens. And you cry a lot when you remember everything.

You remember your hometown, your parents, your pet dog. You remember jogging down the street from your house, and playing ball with the kids. You remember punching a boy in the face because he pushed Steve Rogers off a swing. You remember delivering a frog you found on the sidewalk into Bucky Barnes' hand. You remember finding Bucky and Steve kissing in the alley behind your house and remember promising to keep it a secret when they cry. 

You remember entering the US Army before Bucky. You remember the training, and the battles, and most of all the war. And then you feel your heart fill with warmth and longing when you remember the dances. So many parties where you went jazz dancing, most of them with Bucky and Steve.

You lose your breath when you remember Hydra. When you remember the experiments, and the murders. But Bucky holds your hand, and assures you that you are the same girl who danced with your two best friends at the prom even when the most handsome young man in high school asked for a dance, and assures you that you are not what Hydra wanted you to become. You repeat the same words to him, and you hold each other for a while.

-/-/

Bucky wants you to join the Avengers. He has been a member for a few months, and then he rescued you, and he doesn't want you to just hang around like him. He wants to help you, and he wants you to have a home.

When you nod in agreement, he hugs you.

-/-/

- Here is your room. - Said Bucky as he led you down a long hallway in the Avengers compound. He held your bag, even though you said there was no need for it.

You entered the space, and you let out an impressed hiss. It was definitely better than the motels and well, any place you had actually been sleeping in all these years.

- When you're ready, come meet the rest of the team. - He said as he left his suitcase on the bed. He flashes you a smile before leaving.

You look around, still impressed. It would be strange to call this place a home, but you were willing to give it a try. Besides this, your best friends were here. There was nothing to be scared of.

-/-/

You were wrong. 

Everything was perfectly under control, you smiled and waved politely to all the Avengers, and even laughed at Tony Stark's jokes. And then you met Wanda Maximoff, leaving training and arriving late for your introduction to the team and looking absolutely stunning.

- Hi, sorry I'm late everybody. - She said as she entered the room. And then her gaze fell on you, and she gave an embarrassed smile as she held out her hand. - I'm Wanda, I think we're going to be door-mates.

Unable to form a coherent sentence, you just smiled awkwardly, shaking Wanda's hand, and hoping that she didn't think you were a complete idiot. 

And then Bucky and Steve finished introducing you to the team, and everyone went back to their activities.

You let your gaze linger on Wanda, before quickly turning away, blushing. It was amazing how unlucky you were. You had barely arrived, and already you had a crush.

-/-/

Things are going well, you think. You got along with everyone on the team, you did well in practice, and you had a secret crush on Wanda. Maybe the last part wasn't so good, but you are optimistic.

You eventually realized that Wanda was quite anti-social, and didn't talk much with the other team members.

That might have made things difficult, because if she had a close friend, you could ask this friend to speak well of you.

You grumbled to yourself as you cooked your dinner. You were used to preparing your meals, and almost always the other avengers joined you. When the food started to smell, they appeared. 

- Great! Y/N food. - Tony said as soon as he entered the room, and you giggled. You were stirring the sauce when Wanda came into the kitchen. She smiled at you as she walked towards you and you tried to hide your nervousness.

- Wow, this looks tasty. - She said, looking at the contents of the pot. You smiled, handing her the spoon in your hand. She then tasted some of the sauce, and let out a satisfied groan. You tried not to stare so hard at her lips. - This is delicious.

You just nodded with flushed cheeks, and Wanda gave you a curious look before turning toward the table.

You decided that you had better do something soon or she would think you were completely crazy. 

And then that night, after dinner, you called Bucky up to your room.

- You have to help me with something! - you told him as you walked in. You slumped in your chair, tapping your feet on the floor in nervousness, and he sat down across from you.

- What was it? Did something happen? - he asked worriedly.

- I need to ask a girl out!

You look surprised. And then you laugh.

- I thought it was something bad. - He grumbles, leaning back in his chair.

- It's not bad, it's terrible! - You replied, running your hands through your hair. - I have no idea how to ask a girl out! In fact, I never knew how to ask anyone out. The boys did it in '36s.

Bucky laughs at your desperation, and you bury your face in your hands.

- Hey, calm down. - He says, straightening his posture and looking at you tenderly. - I swear dating is still as hard as it was in the 40s. 

- Was that supposed to make me feel better? - You grumble as you take your face out of his hands and look at him. Bucky laughs.

- I was going to say that, regardless of the era, dating is still about liking someone. - He replies. - It's scary, but you can do it. Why don't you try inviting her over as a friend?

You stand thoughtfully for a moment.

- I don't understand. - You say. - How does the date work between friends?

Bucky laughed again.

- It's not a date, Y/N. - he says. - It's just a hangout among friends.

You frown.

- But I like her. 

- Wow, you're difficult. - Bucky scoffs lightly. - People in this century go on unromantic walks together all the time.

- That sounds like a lie. - You retort with a smile, Bucky laughs. - And how will she know that I like her?

- You tell her. 

You let out a nervous laugh.

- Worst possible idea. - You grumble as you throw your back into your chair. - Besides, I haven't seen you date anyone since '35. I think I'll ask someone else for advice. - You mock lightly, and Bucky rolls his eyes humorously.

- I've been busy. - he says. - By the way, have you ever seen what they call dating apps? It's creepy.

You laugh and nod, and Bucky moves to reach for his cell phone. He spends the rest of the day showing you how dating works in this century, and you laugh a lot.

-/-/

You made too much hot chocolate. Maybe it was on purpose.

What is relevant is that you are walking toward Wanda's room, carrying a mug for her. 

Bucky was in the kitchen with you, and when he got some of the drink, he said that the opportunity for you to make conversation with Wanda was right in front of you.

So here you were, trying not to look so anxious as you knocked on the door.

When Wanda opened the door, she was wearing a sweatshirt and looked comfortable and very pretty. You thought you were staring, so you hurried to say:

- H-hi. I brought you some chocolate. - You say and Wanda looks surprised, but smiles.

- That's very sweet, thank you. - She says to you as she accepts the drink. You feel your cheeks heat up as your hands rub together for a brief moment.

And then a noise you knew well can be heard, and you let out a surprised exclamation.

- Wow, you like Sweet American Family? - you asked excitedly when you noticed the old sitcom you used to watch playing on the in-room television. 

Wanda raised her eyebrow slightly in surprise, and then gave you space to enter the room, and your body just followed the cue automatically, too excited about the show, without really thinking that you were walking into Wanda's room.

- Do you know it? - She replies with surprise and you laugh as you approach the television.

- Of course I do! - you reply excitedly. - I used to watch it with my parents.

Wanda takes a sip of her drink while you stare at the television.

- Watch it with me, then.

It takes a second for you to register the invitation, and your heart races, but you nod with a smile, and watch Wanda sit on her own bed, and pat the duvet for you to join her. Trying not to look like a complete mess, you follow her.

You watch in silence for a few minutes, and a joke later you are used to Wanda's presence.

- So how accurate is this show? - She asks with a smile, leaving her mug on the small table. You sigh thoughtfully.

- Well, we didn't used to eat in our rooms. - You comment, watching the scene on television, and Wanda nods looking interested. - But they got the bad food right, and the tight clothes and weird social rules.

Wanda giggles and goes back to watching. And then the episode switches to a romantic scene, two teenagers talking at school.

- Wow, that was scary. - You comment watching the boy try to invite the girl for a walk.

Wanda looks at you curiously, wanting to know more. You smile.

- The kids used to wait for us in between classes. - You tell her. - And they were very obvious about it. Usually the whole school knew that you were going on a date with someone. 

- Have you been on many dates?

You giggle.

- I didn't like the boys at my high school very much. - You confess. - But I liked to dance. And so they called me to dances, and I said yes. And then I was enlisted, and I started hanging out with the soldiers. It was fun.

- Sounds like great. - She comments with a smile. - In a way, it seems like it was easier.

You let out a surprised exclamation, laughing lightly.

- Wanda, no way! - You respond with humor. - It was horrible! Scary! And all the dates were ultra official, and people expected you to be engaged! Bucky told me that nowadays people go out as friends? That is impressive.

Wanda laughs, and leans on the bed crossing her legs and turning completely toward you.

- But people aren't as romantic as they used to be! - she smiles back. You imitate her position, while you ignore the TV show to talk. - No one seems anxious or shy about going out anymore. There are no flowers, or requests to hold your hand. People just text you to get laid.

You feel your cheeks heat up a little, but laugh at the comment. And then you have an idea.

- I would like to invite you to something. - You say, surprising Wanda suddenly. You swallow your nervousness. - A proper evening out, like the one you saw on TV.

-W-what?

- A date, Wanda. - You clarify with a blush. - But it's okay if you don't want to...

- I do. - She interrupts with a shy smile. - I'd love to go for on a date with you.

You smile, looking away. And the credits music for the episode begins to rise.

- When do you want to go? - you ask her, twiddling your fingers nervously.

- As soon as possible, I'm excited. - She says with a smile, and you let out a giggle. Then you get out of bed.

- Okay, then, Miss Maximoff. - you say with a smile. - I need time to organize this, so I'll pick you up here in your room tomorrow at seven?

- Sounds great. - Wanda agrees with a smile. 

You nod slightly before leaving the room. When you are walking down the hallway, you can't stop smiling.

-/-/

Wanda was wearing a simple, blue dress in the same 40s style when you picked her up. You choked in surprise, thinking she looked absolutely stunning. And she blushed and thanked you when you told her so.

Tony lent you one of his classic cars, and you drove to the sounds of old jazz toward the carnival that was set up in town that week. You didn't notice Wanda looking at you as you hummed the song.

The park was very busy, and they had many entertainment options, but you made sure to ask what Wanda wanted to do.

You competed in the bumper cars and laughed every time your cars hit each other. Wanda threw her head back laughing, and everything seemed to go in slow motion with the image.

And then you went on several other attractions, and then she pointed to the Ferris wheel. 

You both let out excited sighs as the cabin began to rise.

- Wow, this is amazing! - She commented excitedly, you agreed as you looked down, seeing the ground getting farther and farther away.

- The Ferris wheels were smaller. - You say, and Wanda lets out a giggle.

- Are you going to tell me you are afraid of heights now?

You laugh lightly and look at Wanda.

- If I had, and I had accepted your invitation, would I look braver? - You retort sheepishly. Wanda bites her lip thoughtfully, but still smiles.

- Why does it matter, are you trying to impress me?

You look away in surprise, and feel your cheeks heat up. Well, Bucky had told you to be honest after all.

- Only if it's working. - You retort with a slight insecurity in your voice. Wanda smiles though.

- Oh, believe me. It's working very well. - She answers finally, and then you two are on the top.

You try not to blush so much at Wanda's affirmation, and you bite back the smile on your lips. And then she asks you about the dances of your day, and you almost forget to be nervous.

And then you walked side by side off the Ferris wheel, and you took her to see the shooting games, and when you hit all the targets, she whispered that being a trained sniper should be considered cheating. You won many tickets, and you carried the big teddy bear you won for Wanda.

You take her to eat cotton candy, and you laugh as you share the flavors. And then you think you have seen all the toys and are walking back to the car, smiling.

Wanda keeps the teddy inside the back seat, but doesn't get into the vehicle. From your position, the distant light of the Ferris wheel partially illuminates the parking lot, and Wanda's green orbs catch your eye.

- Did you enjoy the evening, Wanda? - you ask her as you approach. She is leaning on the car door, and smiles at you tenderly.

- I loved it. - She confesses. - I didn't want to leave.

You chuckle shyly, looking down at your shoes.

- We can do it again. - You say. - I could take you dancing.

Wanda lets out an excited exclamation.

- Please, I'd love to. - She says, smiling. You think your heart will explode with happiness.

You are silent for a moment, and then Wanda straightens her posture, slightly shy.

- I think we missed something on our walk.

- What? - You look at her anxiously, but Wanda smiles tenderly.

- You didn't ask to hold my hand.

You let out a shy little laugh, coming closer. You stop a step away from Wanda, and hold out your hands. Wanda smiles, and raises her hands to yours. You let your hands fall together at the front of your bodies, waving them lightly as you kept they together.

- How did these walks used to end? - Wanda asks softly, you think that the closeness is preventing you from thinking correctly.

- I would lead you to your front door. - You say. - And you would decide if I deserve a kiss on the cheek.

Wanda smiles, blushing. She looks away quickly, and sighs lightly. You were going to ask if everything was okay, but her sentence makes your mind shut down.

- I want to kiss you now. - she confesses. And then she brings your faces together until your foreheads rest against each other. - Is that okay?

- Yes.

And then the distance is broken. Wanda kisses you on the mouth gently, and you sigh at the sensation. You think that maybe you shouldn't kiss like that on a first date, but your tongue asks for passage and Wanda accepts. And then you have her pressed against the car.

It feels good, and it makes your heart race, and it's the best you've felt since 1940.

[mtfstuff]

Detective Mark

It was largely a standard mission. To infiltrate and arrest criminals and drug dealers. Not a big thing.

The problem is that they've managed to get their hands on one of those body possession machines. Thats how they managed to get out of prison. According to the latest report, they have taken teenagers in possession. After that mission everything changed, but let me tell you about it from the start.

I was making myself something to eat as my boss walked in to talk to me.

"I got a new mission for you, Mark. Top secret, if you agree to do it.", he said.

"I'm listening. What should I do?", I answered.

"Criminals escaped the prison. Kenny Miller and Dan Schwarz. You know them?"

"Of course. I was the one who brought them behind bars. How did they escape?"

"Body possession. They got two guards which we later found unconscious 2 miles next to the prison."

"And my mission is to arrest them?"

"Roughly, yes. According to our latest reports they've managed to possess bodies of teenagers on a high school to start selling drugs again."

Now I knew what he wanted.

"I wont do that. You know I'm not into that.", I said.

"Top secret,  remember Mark. You're in.", he answered with a grin.

I let out a deep breath.

"Who will I take over?", I asked.

"The adoptive son of my dead sister.  He goes to the same school and was friends with the possessed victims. He is ready, so if you could follow me."

My boss walks away and I follow him through a door into the next room. The machine took almost the entire space of the room and by the looks of it, it was ready to use.

In front of it was a young guy, probably my new body. He turns around to reveal his thick glasses. He has to be almost blind without them, I thought.

"Hi, I'm Eric.", he said reaching forward to shake my hand. I felt how he checked me out. How he glanced at my arms, my beard and my boots.

I shook his hand.

"I'm Mark. I'll be the one you're swapping bodies with.", I said.

I saw how his eyes lightened up until my boss started talking.

"Not really.", he said. "As Mark needs your knowledge about the school Eric, we'll place his consciousness over yours."

"So we'll be two guys in one body?", I asked.

"Correct.", he answered.

Eric and I sit down at the opposite ends of the machine. Arms, legs and head are tied to the machine. We both give the sign that we are ready. I close my eyes and count to 3. As I open them again, everything looks blurry.

"I cant see shit!", I said with a high pitched voice.

Cant wait to have my body back soon, this body is not made for a man like me, I thought.

I'm sorry that you dont like my body but you agreed to do this mission, I heard the high pitched voice in my head. Erics voice.

Off to a great start, didnt know we could hear each others thoughts, I thought. This time Eric stayed quiet.

Someone put myself glasses on. We got untied and I stood up. It was weird to control such a lean body. I looked over to my real body, laying unconscious in the seat. I missed it already but that it was unconscious was better than someone else walking around as me. Last time I switched bodies for work it was with a 70 year old man. My body was sticky when I got it back and my bathroom and some of my clothes were full with cum. So disgusting to think of someone jerking off in my body. Especially when it was a 70 year old.

In the evening I got driven to the school where I should arrest Kenny and Dan.

Two days later I finished the mission and got driven back to the police station. I entered the room with the machine again and saw my old body still laying there as if it wasnt moved. I was so happy to see it again. I sat down on the seat, closed my eyes and counted to 3. I felt my real body again. The warm leather jacket, my tight pants and shirt on my muscles. I wiggled my toes in my leather boots. It felt so great not wearing those Chucks anymore.

I opened my eyes to see that I was still tied to the machine.

"You can untie me now, guys.", I said. It was so great to hear my deep voice again.

Only now I noticed that something wasnt right. The only person with me and Eric in the room was my boss. Normally, multiple people would operate the machine.

I looked at my boss who was talking to Eric. Both whispered.

"Is everything alright?", I asked.

Both of them looked at me and Eric chuckled.

"My nephew said that you were quiet cocky in his body. You made nasty remarks about his clothes, his looks and so on. As compensation, he'll use your body for some time", my boss said.

I was shocked. I never thought something like this would happen.

"Wait, no. This is not true!", I shouted. "I never said something like this."

But it was to late. My boss pressed the button again and I felt how Erics soul entered my body. It was a cold feeling, causing me to shiver. I tried to push him back into his own body but through the help of the machine he overpowered me. I felt how I lost control of my limbs, my muscular body.

Its a pleasure to use this body, I heard Erics voice in my head.

My boss looked at me with a dark grin as he said:"Codename."

"Exodus", I heard myself answer.

"Good it worked.", my boss said as he untied my body.

I had no control over my body as it stood up and my arms started to touch my body. Eric took off my leather jacket and sniffed it. He let out a moan and grabbed my dick. I felt how my dick raised and I couldnt do anything.

"You have 30 minutes for yourself in the bathroom. Here are some clothes we took from his home.", my boss said as he took out a black sportsbag. He opened it to give us a look.

"I see you in 35 minutes in my bureau, Mark.", he said leaving the room.

Eric grabbed the bag and went through the other door into the bathroom. We were alone.

He started to sniff my sweaty armpits and to lick my biceps. He rubbed my cock in my jeans while flexing my muscles in the mirror.

I felt how pre-cum started to drip into my jockstrap and I couldnt do anything against it.

Eric opened my belt and took my dick out of my jockstrap. He wanked it off but he didnt manage to shoot my load. He wanked so hard that he started to stumble. He looked down at my feet. At my black leather boots.

I always wanted to wear boots like this, even though I have to learn how to properly walk in them, his thoughts said.

Eric sat down on a toilet seat and pulled both boots off. He wiggled with my toes in my gold toe socks as he raised the first boot to my nose and put my dick into the second. I could smell the warm, worn leather and the sweat and I felt how that turned Eric on.

I felt how he pressed the top of my dick against the sole of my boot right as my body shot my first load. Eric opened my mouth and let out a loud moan. I was deeply embarrassed.

He switched boots so that I could smell the sweet cum inside my boot which caused me to shoot my second load right into my other boot.

He took off my Red shirt and wrapped it around my dick.

"Watch this.", he said.

He put both boots, with the cum inside, back on. I felt how my socks started to soak it up, it felt disgusting. Like wet socks. But this caused me to shoot my last load and probably the biggest I've ever had into my shirt.

Satisfied with what he did he looked at my watch.

10 minutes left. Time to dress up again, he thought.

He took my jockstrap and my pants off while walking back to the bag.

He looked inside and took a black jeans, jockstrap and a blue shirt out. He put the shirt on, letting my fingertips glide over my abs. He lifted my booted foot to put on my new jockstrap when I heard his thoughts. I dont need this, the jeans will feel great too. So he grabbed my black jeans and put it on. He put on my belt, my gun and my badge. At last he lifted my leather jacket from the bag, sniffed it one last time and put it on. He stuffed the old clothes into the bag and left the bathroom.

He walked into the bureau of my boss.

"Looking good, my son.", my boss said.

"Mark. We're not alone.", Eric answered. He crossed his arms. "What now?"

"First, we just got called to a crime scene. Ready up, we're driving in 5 minutes." He made a sign to come closer and Eric walked around the desk to stand next to him.

"After that, we'll test that body to the max at home.", my boss whispered.

"Sounds good.", Eric answered.

The whole trip to the crime scene was torture. I had to see Erics thoughts about my naked body and the one of my boss. So gross. He also looked through my memories. I tried to stop him but I was too weak.

Arriving at the crime scene I felt how my heart started to beat faster. Eric was nervously looking through my memories how to act as me. I didnt bother to stop him as I got weaker every time I tried and as I had to think about what gruesome night stood before me. I had to make peace that he will be me forever.

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

This story as a commission from a friend.

[thebookreader12345]

Friendly Parenting Pt. 2

Pairing: Connor Rhodes x reader

Summary: Owen is now a few months old, and Natalie and Will decide to set Y/N up on a date with Connor

Requested: Yes, by anonymous

Warnings: mentions of a car accident and heart problems

Word Count: 1,509 Words

Pt. 1     Pt. 3

“You’re late,” Maggie told me as I entered the ED.

“I know. I’m sorry. I promised Natalie I would drop Owen off at her mother-in-law’s place, but just before I could leave, he spit up on me and I had to change and-”

Maggie cut me off. “If I didn’t know you and Nat’s situation, I’d say you sound like a mom. Hurry up and drop your stuff off. I’ve got a case for you.”

“All right. Give me two minutes,” I say and rush into the lounge. I practically threw everything into my locker and shoved my stethoscope into my coat pocket. Pulling my hair up into a ponytail, I made a beeline for the exit only to be blocked by Connor.

“What’s the rush?” Connor asked.

“I was late today, and if I don’t get back to Maggie in the next 45 seconds, I’m toast,” I exclaim. “Excuse me.” I went to walk around Connor, but he gently grabbed my arm and stopped me from leaving the lounge. “Connor, I said I have to go.”

“Calm down, would ya? You’re working with me today. And you’re not really late considering that our patient hasn’t even come in yet,” Connor notified me.

“Oh. Sorry,” I reply. Connor gave me a small smile, and I could feel a light blush creeping up onto my cheeks, so I turned around so that Connor couldn’t see it. I then made my way back to my locker to organize it since I had the time. “Got any info on our case?”

“Not much. All I know is that it’s a car crash vic. Apparently he lost consciousness at the wheel, hence the car crash,” Connor stated.

“Sounds exhilarating,” I joke.

“What? Not your kind of case?” Connor asked, even though he knew me well enough to already have the answer to that question.

“I prefer the cases that keep you on your toes. The ones that start as a mystery and have you dying to figure out what’s going on even though it’s staring you right in the face. Those are the cases that get my adrenaline pumping, and they’re the ones that make me feel like I’m really helping people out,” I admit.

“Connor! Y/N! Incoming!” Maggie shouted from the nurses’ station at the ED.

“Duty calls,” Connor proclaimed.

“Duty calls,” I repeat and follow him out of the lounge and into the ED. “What have we got?”

“Mason Porter. Age 63. He lost consciousness at the wheel and caused a two car collision at an intersection downtown,” one of the paramedics informed us.

“Mr. Porter? Can you hear me?” I question as the paramedics transferred him from the gurney to one of the beds in the ED.

“I may be old, but I’m not deaf,” Mr. Porter responded. I see we had ourselves a jokester on our hands. 

“You ever lose consciousness like this before?” Connor asked.

Mr. Porter shook his head. “Never. The paramedics said there might me something wrong with my ticker?”

“That’s for us to find out. Did you feel dizzy before you passed out? Or was it more sudden?” My question wasn’t answered, and I glanced at Mr. Porter to see that he was staring off into space. “Mr. Porter?” Mr. Porter looked my way, and when he saw me, he smiled.

“Ah, my beautiful granddaughter is here!” Mr. Porter said and reached up to touch my cheek. “Mya, why haven’t you come by more?”

“He’s hallucinating. Chances are he’s got a severe case of endocarditis. We need a chest x-ray in here,” Connor called out into the ED. Seconds later, the machine was brought into the room, and Connor and I plus the others in the room put on our protective aprons. The x-ray tech positioned the x-ray over Mr. Porter’s chest, took a picture, and then the picture of Mr. Porter’s chest popped up on the computer connected to the machine. “What’d I say? Endocarditis,” Connor spoke and smiled at me.

“You’re always right, aren’t you?” I question teasingly as Connor grabbed onto one of the bed’s rails.

“Most of the time, yeah,” Connor replied with a small smirk. “Look, I’ve got to get Mr. Porter up to surgery.”

“Okay. Have fun,” I exclaim as Connor pushed Mr. Porter’s bed out of the room. I exited the trauma room and walked up to the nurses’ station to get another case, and as I was waiting for Maggie, Will walked over to me. “Hey, Will. What’s up?”

“You, me, Nat, Molly’s. Tonight after shift,” Will told me.

“Will, I was up for half of the night with Owen,” I confess.

“Right, which is exactly why you need a night out. Natalie’s getting Helen to keep Owen for a bit longer, so everything is taken care of. I’m not taking no for an answer,” Will declared.

I sighed. “Fine. Molly’s tonight after shift.” Later that night, after my shift had ended and I changed into some new clothes, I headed to Molly’s. When I walked inside, I didn’t see Natalie or Will, but I did spot Connor sitting at the bar. I made my way over to him and slid into the barstool at his side, waving Herrmann down. “Hey, Connor.”

“Hey,” Connor responded as Herrmann walked over to me. 

“What’ll it be, Y/N? Just a beer?” Herrmann guessed.

“You know it,” I say.

“Herrmann, put her drink on my tab,” Connor requested.

“Gotcha,” Herrmann confirmed and placed a beer in front of me. 

“You didn’t have to pay for my drink. I make money too, you know,” I remind him. Connor smiled and took a sip of his beer.

“I know, but I wanted to,” Connor disclosed. I only shook my head and took a sip of my drink. After about twenty minutes, Natalie and Will were still nowhere to be found. I sighed and glanced at my phone to see if either of them had texted, but I had no new notifications. “You waiting for a text or something?” Connor asked me.

“Not exactly. Will and Natalie were supposed to meet me here after shift,” I answer.

“Wait a minute. I’m also waiting for Will and Nat,” Connor claimed. At that moment, everything made sense. I groaned and took a big gulp of beer in front of me, enjoying the way the bitter alcohol burned my throat. “Something wrong?”

“Natalie and Will, they set us up,” I inform him.

“Set us up? What are you talking about?” Connor questioned.

I sighed and ran a hand through my hair. “I may have told Natalie that I liked you, and in turn she told Will, and so they tried to set us up. I feel so embarrassed,” I murmur.

“Why? I told Will the exact same thing,” Connor spoke.

“Hold on. You like me?” I ask.

Connor nodded. “I’ve liked you since the moment I got back to Chicago and got a job at Med.”

“Well, I did not see this coming,” I state. 

Connor laughed. “Me either. But since we’re here, and we both know that we like each other, Y/N, would you like to consider this our first date?”

“I would love to,” I say and wave Herrmann down towards us again. “Herrmann, we’re going to need some more beers.” The night went really well. It was nice getting to talk to Connor outside of work. There was so much we didn’t know about each other, and tonight gave us the opportunity to learn more. After a few drinks, it was getting late, so Connor and I decided to head out. Connor walked me to my car, and just before I could climb into the driver’s seat, I turned to Connor. “You know, there’s one thing we still have to do to make this first date official.”

“I think I already know what that one thing is,” Connor muttered and leaned forwards, pressing his lips to mine. I smiled against Connor’s mouth and wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling his body closer to mine. The kiss only lasted a few seconds, but it was an amazing few seconds. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Night, Connor,” I reply. The whole ride home, I was filled with happiness. I couldn’t believe I had kissed Connor. When I walked inside me and Nat’s shared house after about a five minute drive, I still had a smile on my face.

“You’re smiling,” Natalie pointed out. “And I’m guessing that because you’re smiling, things went well between you and Connor.”

“It was wonderful,” I breathe out and plop down on the couch next to her.

“And I’m ready to hear all about it. Spill,” Natalie demanded. The rest of that night was spent with me telling Natalie about what had happened between me and Connor. And when it was finally time for me to go to bed, all I could think about was our date. I was super excited to see where things would go with Connor and I, and I was ready to see what awaited us in the future.

______________________

Tag List:

@prettypyschoinpink @securityfriendly-jay @scarletsoldierrr @lorenakaspersen @virtualreader @carnationworld @caitsymichelle13​ @king-crockett​

[justmypartner]

Still Breathing: Chapter 1

Summary: AU | When a case goes sideways, Hailey wakes up in the hospital with a revelation that leaves her evaluating her life. While she recovers at Med, she meets Jay, an aloof, yet intriguing patient that catches her by surprise. The two get to know one another as they take on the task of rediscovering what it’s like to truly live, and eventually learn their lives intersect in more ways than one. 

Writer’s Note: Hi!!! I’ve had this idea for a while and it’s taken me quite a bit to finally get started, but I’m super excited about it. This probably won’t be a weekly fic, but I’ll try and post as frequently as possible. I don’t want to give too much away… but it explores something in the Halstead background that has been referenced, but never fully developed so I really tried to dive deep into what it is and how it would affect Jay. It’s been fun (and somewhat emotional) to work through & I really hope you enjoy!! 

Read on AO3 or below

“Order, Arms,” a voice called out, sending Hailey’s hand back down to her side.

She remained in place, frozen as she resumed attention, fighting hard to conceal the joy spilling out of her. It was her graduation day. She was just sworn in, and for the first time ever, deemed an Officer of the Chicago Police Department. She took in the room from under the low brim of her hat, her lips curling up at the corners as the Department Pipes and Drums began to play. She closed her eyes briefly, relishing in the moment, and when she opened, she was suddenly somewhere else entirely. She was no longer standing in the middle of the Grand Ballroom at Navy Pier. She still wore those same blues from before, slightly older and more worn than they once were, but her bright, green attitude she previously bore was gone. She was exhausted and nervous, sitting before her District Commander in a small and unfamiliar room in Ivory Tower.

“Hailey, I hope I don’t have to remind you that you are not to discuss the case with anyone, nothing you did, nothing you saw, not a single detail that pertains to the operation is to be exchanged until you are told otherwise by the AUSA’s office,” the Commander instructed her, carrying an even tone that made the reason for the meeting hard to discern.

“Yes ma’am,” Hailey affirmed with a simple nod.

“With that being said, I have news for you. There will be a more formal presentation of this news, but for now I get to be the first to tell you,” the Commander spoke, inhaling deeply before continuing. “Officer Hailey Upton, for your outstanding acts of heroism and performance during the aforementioned case, on behalf of the Superintendent of Police, the Bureau of Detectives, and the entirety of the Chicago Police Department, we commend your service with a merit promotion to the ranking of Detective.”

Her brows raised in surprise. After the long stretch undercover, she was just happy to finally be Hailey again, to be in her home, to be able to work with the safety and familiarity of her coworkers. She had spent those weeks hoping the case would lend her a promotion, but she never fully imagined that it would. She was equal parts ecstatic and stunned by the news, but she blinked, and she was transported once again. She was no longer sitting across from her District Commander but from Sergeant Voight in the low light of his office.

“Our only Detective just recently and unexpectedly took furlough. Burgess, Ruzek, Atwater, we’ve been trying to make do with just us, but we’re stretched thin. There’s a spot on our team and we could really use the help. It’s yours if you want it,” his gravelly voice posited.

Before she knew it, those moments that stood out so vividly in her mind became fuzzy images in what seemed like a poorly put together movie, and everything began to fade to black.

When she finally woke, it was to the sound of machines and the low babel of indistinct conversation. As her eyes blinked open, she took in the glimpse of four familiar faces and numerous wires and IVs hooked up to her body.

She hadn’t been in Intelligence long, only about two weeks before she wound up in that hospital room, but she knew from her first day that she had stumbled upon her forever people. She didn’t take the job with this expectation. In fact, she was expecting it to be as rocky as her first time working with the team. Yet, she came to learn that despite the reputation that preceded them, they were some of the most loyal and genuine people she had met in all of her time with the CPD. In only the short amount of time she had been with them, they had clung to her in a way nobody else ever had, developing what she knew to be a lifelong bond. The fact that their faces were the first she saw when she finally came to only affirmed that.

“There she is!” Kevin’s voice rang as they all rose, making their way closer to her bedside.

“Did we get them?” Her voice croaked, and they all nodded in confirmation, looking over to their sergeant to deliver the news.

Her memory of right before everything went dark was fuzzy. She wasn’t exactly sure what caused the injuries that left her aching all over, but everything else, the case, the targets, it was all still fresh in her mind. She didn’t want to talk about the case. She didn’t even want to think about it, but she needed to know if they got them. That everything that happened was worth it. She breathed out, allowing a sliver of tension that had been bottled up inside of her release with it. She watched them nod, and she waited for her boss to tell her what she needed to hear.

“We got ‘em, kid. They’re going down for everything, but most importantly for what they did to you,” he assured. She nodded, flinching at the surge of pain that came with the small movement.

“Okay, everybody. I need some time with the patient if you don’t mind,” the doctor announced as she entered the room. They all nodded, grabbing their things to leave.

“I’m happy you’re okay,” Kim told her, reaching out and briefly resting a hand over hers. Voight and Adam nodded in agreement before they all turned to walk out.

“Tough as they come, girl. Glad you’re still with us,” Kevin said, reaching out his arm and fist for her to bump. She smiled, bumping him back with her uninjured arm and thanking them all for being there.

Once they had left the room, the doctor quickly read over her chart before rolling a chair over to her.

“So, give me the rundown. How bad is it?” Hailey questioned anxiously.

“You were shot three times. Twice in the abdomen, once in the shoulder. That vest of yours caught the first two. However, they did leave some pretty significant bruising so we are going to need to monitor you closely, make sure you don’t develop any internal bleeding or rupture. The one in your shoulder was a through and through. We were able to go in and repair what it tore, but you lost a lot of blood. So, you should get comfortable. We’re going to need to keep you here for observation a few days. Looks like you’ll be out of work for the next week at the least, then out of the field for a few weeks after that,” She explained. Hailey just nodded simply in response, a look of defeat on her face.

“Detective, it could have been a lot worse had you not been wearing that vest. It also could have been a lot worse if that bullet in your shoulder struck just a half a centimeter lower. I know it doesn’t feel like it, but I’d say you’re pretty lucky,” she admitted, rising from her chair before dropping her chart at the end of the bed and making her way out of the room.

Lucky. It wasn’t the word she’d use to describe how she was feeling. On top of the pain, she was reeling from that vision she had just before her breathing stalled and everything shut off. She’d always heard people say their life flashed before their eyes in those kind of moments, but she never expected it to be such a deflating experience. Her life flashed before her eyes, but the only outstanding moments were her graduation from the academy, her promotion to detective, and her offer into Intelligence. She loved her job, and she was proud of those moments, but it felt disillusioning that in what felt like her final moments, the only good memories her brain could come up with tied back to her job. A job that too often reminded her of all of the bad in the world. A job that had landed her there in the first place.

She didn’t want to fully think about what happened. She wasn’t emotionally prepared for it. Still, she couldn’t stop thinking about the moment before she lost consciousness, when those memories flashed through her mind. It made her realize just how empty her life had been. Her injuries may not have necessarily been life threatening, but she felt as though she was getting a second chance. A second chance to get more out of life than a few job related accomplishments in her end-of-life film reel. A second chance to be intentional about making more memories.

- - - -

A few days had gone by, and she was still in the hospital. She was already feeling better, more than ready to go home, but her doctor extended her stay, wanting to monitor her and her labs. She spent a lot of time in her room, keeping her mind busy with a few books Kim had brought her, but getting distracted by whatever rerun was playing on the small tv screen in the corner of the room. She didn’t have any visitors, something that only added to the epiphany about her life that had her rattled from the moment she woke. Her Intelligence family was practically all she had. They stopped by when they could, but for the most part they were all busy at work, leaving her alone to herself and the occasional check in from various medical staff. Boredom was growing with each passing minute, and she thought about how hard it would be to survive a few weeks out of the field if she couldn’t even make it through a few days in the hospital.

Having enough of sitting in the hospital bed, she was able to convince a nurse to let her sneak out for a walk around the hospital. She felt like a mess. She was dressed head to toe in sweats, her right arm was in a sling, and the look was pulled together with a pair of socks and sandals. Not exactly the most flattering outfit, but she had reached the level of restlessness that left her unaffected by her appearance. She just needed to be out of that room.

She got another book in the gift shop and stopped by the cafeteria where she found some chocolate ice cream. She tucked the book into her sling as she walked about the halls, shoveling the snack into her mouth with each step. She finally climbed into the elevator, and pressed the button for her floor before settling into the back corner. Every bit seemed better than the last. She wasn’t sold on the hospital food. It reminded her of grade school cafeteria food, something she was never fond of, so she knew that ice cream would be the only good thing she had to eat all day. The elevator stopped at the next floor and a man stepped in, pressing a button before settling into the corner across from her. She briefly looked up at him with a friendly nod before looking back down into the cup in her hand for another bite. Suddenly, a movement across the car brought her attention back to him. He had pulled a needled syringe from his pocket and began pressing it into his forearm. Her posture straightened and she froze as she watched him repeatedly stab his arm with the needle.

“Trypanophobia… don’t worry, it’s a prop needle,” he broke through the silence, and she relaxed slightly as he continued to speak.

“You know? The ones they use in movies that don’t actually pierce the skin. My idiot brother said the best way to overcome my fear of needles is exposure therapy, starting with these fake ones. Yet, I’ve been in and out of this hospital for several weeks now, plenty exposed to these things, and I still can’t seem to get used to the poking and prodding,” the man said, flashing her a shy smile as he continued pushing the needle into his arm.

“Seems like pretty sound advice to me. Maybe your idiot brother isn’t such an idiot after all,” she responded back with amusement.

“Yeah, well he may be a doctor, but he’s also my older brother which, in my eyes, makes him an idiot by default,” he said matter-of-factly, immediately looking up at her with a curl in his lips.

“Ah, well I have 2 brothers myself, so I suppose I can somewhat appreciate that sentiment,” she smirked, looking over at him from the other side of the elevator.

She discretely eyed him as he busied his focus back on the syringe in his hand. He was tall, with broad shoulders, and a shirt that fit a little too tight, revealing toned muscles underneath with every movement. The beanie he wore fully covered his head but based on the freckles all across his face and the darkness of his eyebrows, she had to guess he was a redhead, maybe even a brunette. His face was clean shaven, which made it hard to tell just how old he was, but his eyes were what had her. They were an entrancing blend of green and blue, and they gave off a sort of friendly warmth that mellowed out his somewhat intimidating deportment.

“What landed you in here?” He asked, continuing to mindlessly press the object into his arm.

“I- injured on the job,” she put simply.

“Been there,” he said directly, his obscurity matching hers. Her brow furrowed briefly before silence filled the small space and she centered her focus back on the ice cream in her hand.

“Are you doing anything right now, you know, besides stuffing your face with diabetes?” He queried, cutting through the silence and nodding to the cup of ice cream in her hand. She scoffed sarcastically.

“Why do you ask?” She questioned dubiously, trying to keep a lightness in her voice. “Also, I’ll have you know this is the only decent thing to eat this hospital has to offer. I survived a few bullets, I’m sure a little sugar won’t kill me,” she replied. He chuckled as she scooped up a large bite and shoveled it into her mouth with pride.

“Fair enough. And I ask because I have some time to kill, so I just wanted to see if you cared to join me for a little golf on the roof,” he said.

“There isn’t golf on the roof,” she shook her head, amused by the way he proposed it so factually.

“Oh, but there is,” he returned. She squinted her eyes at him in disbelief, and he quickly pressed the elevator button for the roof. She didn’t believe him, but she was bored. Out of her mind. So, she reluctantly decided to follow him. When the elevator stopped at the rooftop, he led her out to an opening with a small patch of turf, two clubs, and a basket of golf balls.

“What the hell? You were serious?” she laughed.

“Yeah, I was serious. I never joke about golf,” He said frankly, grabbing a golf club and placing the ball on the tee.

“Is this even allowed?” She asked, placing her empty cup down as she watched him swing the club into the ball. Her eyes travelled it as it flew from the roof, and she brought her eyes back to him, a staggered look on her face.

“Probably not, but like I said, my idiot brother is a doctor, so if we get caught I’ll just blame it on him,” he smiled, flashing her a wink before hitting another ball off the tee. “Do you want to try?” He asked, offering her a club.

“Don’t think that’s even possible,” she returned, raising her slinged arm slightly to make her point.

“That’s no excuse,” he said, “Come here,” he instructed. She gave in, making her way over toward him.

Close up, his eyes were more green than blue, and they were so beautiful that she found herself getting lost in them for a second. She snapped back into focus when he offered her the club. She took it, and he helped her adjust her feet so that she was standing properly. He placed a ball on the tee, took a step back, and motioned for her to have at it.

She wound the shot up with her uninjured arm and struck the ball. She was still sore from her injuries, and the movement of the swing sent a surge of pain through her torso. She flinched, chipping the top of the ball in the follow through. They both erupted in laughter when the ball barely went but a few feet in front of them, and she dropped the club to the ground to clutch at her abdomen.

“Okay, so maybe you were right,” he laughed, his mood dropping the second he noticed she was in pain. “Hey, are you okay?” He inspected, reaching a supportive hand through the small distance between them.

“Yeah, just still a little sore,” she admitted, stepping back as she forced a smile to hide her pain. He just nodded and she stepped back to lean against the wall. He was silent, but she could sense he was thinking hard about something.

“So injured on the job, huh?” He finally asked. “You mentioned something about surviving a bullet, so what exactly is your job? Bank Robber? Spy? Assassin?” He bantered. She pursed her lips into a wry smile, shaking her head with a weak laugh.

“Mm. You pay attention. I’m a Cop. Detective more specifically. It was uh…” she hadn’t fully addressed how everything had went down yet. The case wasn’t one she wanted to particularly think about, and as the memories from moments before the shooting slowly came back, she immediately pushed them down. She still wasn’t prepared to talk about it. Especially not to some stranger she met in an elevator only 15 minutes before.

“Things took a turn quickly. I took two to the vest, one in the shoulder,” she finally got out, remaining vague through her wording.

His movements stilled, and he looked over at her, a concerned yet knowing look on his face.

“Through and through?” He asked her. She nodded bleakly.

“I’ve had a similar injury,” she noticed his jaw clench with his words. “I was a cop too,” he eventually admitted, a sullen look falling upon his face.

“Was?” She questioned.

“I mean, I guess I technically still am, but it doesn’t feel like it,” he adumbrated. She noticed he was being cryptic, but despite her own curiosity she could tell it wasn’t something he was prepared to talk about. It got quiet as she weighed whether or not to question him further. She settled against it, and in desperate need to change the subject, her attention fell back upon the golf setup. She nodded her head towards it to redirect the conversation.

“So why do you have this here?” She asked him. She watched as he sucked his teeth, pulling his tongue back with a pop before answering.

“I was diagnosed with Stage 2 Pancreatic Cancer several weeks ago. Started chemotherapy not long after that, and as I mentioned before, needles are not my favorite thing, so I come up here before each treatment… calm my nerves a bit,” he admitted. Her face fell. She put two and two together, figuring that was his reason behind not feeling like a cop anymore. She quickly realized her problems, her boredom, everything she’d complained about in the past few days really didn’t mean anything in the grand scheme of things. It also in a way reminded her of that second chance she seemed to have gotten. She was suddenly both inspired and confused about where she stood in the way she viewed her life.

“I’m sorry,” she said, almost in a whisper.

“Oh, none of that. No room for sorry or sadness up here. Only golf,” he quipped, forcing a smile and turning his attention back to the golf ball on the ground before whacking it from the roof.

Before she could respond, her phone buzzed in her pocket, bringing her attention away from him.

Where are you? Kev and I brought you some food, but your room is empty.

It was a text from Kim. After reading it, she looked up at the man. She had a strange desire to stay up there with him, to watch him hit golf balls from the roof and get to know more about him, but she knew her friends would send the entire hospital after her if she didn’t show a sign of life.

“I’m sorry, but I’ve got to go,” she said, slipping her phone back in her pocket and pushing herself from the wall.

“Hey, what’d I say about sorry?” He smirked, resting the club on the ground and leaning against it as he stepped towards her.

“How much longer are you stuck here?” he asked, tilting his head with his words.

“Honestly, I’m not really sure. Doctors haven’t been able to give me a clear answer.”

“Well, maybe I’ll see you around. It was nice to meet you um…” he let out an awkward chuckle. “I don’t know your name,” he said sheepishly.

“Hailey. I’m Hailey,” she smirked, extending her uninjured hand for him to shake. He grabbed it, shaking it back lightly and slowly. As he peered into her eyes, an abnormal feeling overcame her. It was almost a sense of familiarity, like he wasn’t a stranger she had just met, but someone she’d known her whole life. It was the look in his eyes and the comfort of his touch, and it was a feeling that took her by surprise. Nonetheless, the feeling was gone as quickly as it came, and they pulled apart as he parted his lips to speak.

“Nice to meet you, Hailey,” he said, his free hand finding way to his pocket. Her phone buzzed again, another text from Kim, and she knew she had to get back to her room before they sent the entirety of Chicago searching for her. She gave him one last smile before turning towards the elevators. As she settled in and pressed the button for her floor, she looked up to see him watching her every movement. She quickly looked down at her feet with this realization, remembering how she was dressed and suddenly regretting leaving her room like that. She was grateful when he finally turned, directing his attention back to the golf balls on the ground.

“Wait,” she said, throwing her free hand up to the elevator doors as they began to close. He twisted around, his eyes carrying a gentle, curious look.

“You didn’t tell me your name,” she called out.

He opened his mouth to speak, but he stopped himself, his eyes looking up and dropping quickly as if he’d forgotten his name and was waiting for it to fall from the sky.

“Just remember me as the stranger from the elevator,” he finally said slyly.

She frowned, but he just returned her look with taut smirk. When it was clear that was all he was going to offer, she backed up into the elevator, an annoyed and skeptical smile on her face as she allowed the doors to fall shut.

She acted on autopilot for the rest of the afternoon, distracted by the encounter with the stranger. She wasn’t an at first sight kind of person. Love, admiration, attraction, feelings, they weren’t things she typically felt from the jump. It took time and trust for her to develop those things that some could develop in a first encounter. Yet, with this guy, something was different. From the ride down to the elevator, to dinner in her room with her friends, to the moment her head touched the uncomfortable hospital pillow that night, the stranger and some unexplainable feeling about him lingered in her mind like a bad hangover. He was aloof and smug, but something about that combination left her wanting more. More about his story, about his quirks, about everything that made him seem so interesting.

It took her a while to find sleep, as it had every night prior that she had spent in that hospital, but that night it was for another reason. It wasn’t just the discomfort of the bed or the unfamiliarity of the room that left her restless. It was the image of the stranger’s well-pleased grin in her mind, his blue-green eyes sparkling at her, and her own curiosity keeping her up late into the night. Every part of her hoped that she would see him again. She couldn’t quite explain it, but the timing of it all made her think she was meant to meet him for some undiscovered reason. That gave her just enough hope that their encounter wasn’t just a one time thing. She had a strong feeling she was going to see him again.

[wizkiddx]

worst case scenario part 3

umm so, never ever intended it to be this long but here we are. again this is v dark so please please read the warning!! also [and obvs] this is very medically inaccurate and just a work of my head aha

[part 1] [part 2]

warning: mentions of death / hospital / mentions of childhood abandonment too- please don't read if this could affect you <3

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His heart was thundering in his chest, so much so it drowned out all other sounds making all the doctors words fade into the background. Conciously, he really was trying to listen to what the doctor was saying; consciously he knew she was trying to prepare him to see Y/n; consciously he knew she knew he wasn’t okay. But really? It didn’t matter, and as they drew closer to his fiancé Tom felt an urgent sense of relief purely know she was there. She was there and she wasn’t dead…yet. 

Only two people were allowed to go up, just because the nature of the ward - everything was meticulously controlled, including the comings and goings of visitors. If you’ve never been in an ICU it’s a pretty hard environment to describe. Really, it’s just another hospital ward, with capacity of about 20 beds. Each bed has much more equipment surrounding that the average and a nurse is stationed per patient, monitoring every possible variable that the machienes are measuring, so any trend (either positive or negative) can be identified at the earliest point. Though in everyones head, it seems as though ICU is a common place ending up for some unfortunate sod when something bad happens, it’s actually really rare for someone to be so ill and dependant on medicine to maintain normal body functioning. Only the most severe trauma, infection of the most dangerous microorganism, surgery of such high stakes normally make an appearance on the ward. And ,on average, between 8-20% patients that are admitted to an ICU never make it out. 

And those grim figures were unignorable to anyone. As soon as you walk through the doors, the atmosphere is intense and ineffable. It’s not spoken, but is so incredibly morbid it makes anyone shiver. 

Dom felt this, squeezing his sons shoulder as he followed Tom and the doctor, just a pace or so behind them. Having offered to go with Tom, whilst Harrison took Nikki to see the baby, Dom was now feeling just as clueless as his son did. Except he was actually listening to what the doctor was trying to warn them about and it scared him. The three, made it to the door and with a swipe of her ID card the doctor admitted the Holland men in. Gratefully, none of the staff took any notice of who was walking in, they were much too busy for that - Dom was incredibly relieved, had someone recognised Tom when he was in this state, god knows what would’ve happened.

The doctors pace was with purpose, perhaps so that the two couldn’t spend too long ogling the other patients in the beds - who all looked almost unhuman with the amount of tubes and wires coming out and into them. But then, she slowed up, halting infront of a bay about 5 or 6 down the ward. Spinning on her heel and with a subtle nod to momentarily release the nurse from her post at Y/n’s bedside, to give them a bit of privacy, she looked at the two men. 

“You can touch her, just be gentle with the wires.”

Shellshocked and terrified, Tom was frozen those 2 metres away from the bed barely able to see her face over all the equipment. Yet undoubtedly, it was his finance’s delicate visage lying on the white pillow, with a thick white mouthpiece and tube covering her mouth and stuffed into her nose. Not able to move, both Dom and Dr Goodwell sensitively waited - it was an adjustment to say the least, seeing someone you knew so well look so different. With quiet tears starting to roll down his eyes, Tom eventually started to inch toward the bedside, taking his time to try and absorb everything of this frankly ridiculous situation. He couldn’t get over how, even considering it all, above her nose it just looked like Y/n. Like she was asleep in their bed, eyes closed as if she had once again  fallen asleep infront of a random Netflix movie Tom had bugged her enough to watch in bed. And it was, ever so slightly comforting. That was still her, that was still the love of his life lying there. And she was still alive - which given the last few hours, was enough. 

Reaching the bedside, Tom naturally reached out and stroked the top of her head delicately, pulling into place a few rogue strands that seemed to have a mind of their own - she had always hated when her hair got frizzy. The picture had Tom’s mind casting back to their first holiday, a serene if quick few days in Fiji-  though Y/n didnt know this , that holiday had been one of the most important times in their relationship for Tom. Until then, given the nature of his job, the couple had only ever managed brief periods together. They spent time together as and when they could in between Tom’s busy schedule but it was never as long as they’d like. Somehow though, he’d managed to squeeze a few days away to surprise Y/n with the trip. 

It was everything he’d ever hoped it would be and more. In fact it was then Tom was oh so sure he would be spending the rest of his life with her. This thought crossed his mind on the last morning, when he had for once woken up before Y/n - her head mere cms away from his on the pillow. Just like now, her hair had been all over the place and her sparkling green eyes locked shut. Contrastingly though, in Fiji the sight had made him smile softly; now it just made him cry again. 

“Would you like a minute alone Mr Holland? We will just wait outside?” Not even turning round to properly respond to the doctor, Tom just nodded violently, not taking his eyes off his fiancé - waiting till he heard his Dad and the doctor leave the bay; then the curtains be completely drawn to a close, before he shakily cleared his throat to whisper.

“Hey darling… you um-you’ve scared me shitless today… and… and I’m supposed to be the dramatic one in the relationship.” Chuckling wetly, Tom clasped his other hand in Y/n’s - still mindful of the IV port coming out of the top of her wrist. Not that he was expecting any sort of response, yet the lack of her squeezing his hand back still had his heart sink. “Look I…I love you so bloody much and I really need you to get better okay? You’ve never listened to me before but I really am begging you to now, I just.” Swallowing thickly, he shut his eyes momentarily and delicately rested his forehead on hers - his touch feather light. Just needing to feel her. “I just really need you and I really love you., okay?” 

Unsurprisingly he didn’t get a response. The rhetorical question hung in the air alone, safe the mechanical whir of the ventilator and various chimes of the machines and monitor, till his Dad came in. Grasping and squeezing his shoulder lightly, Dom provided the stimulus for his son to unfold from over the bed, standing upright, as both men just took in the sight of Y/n lying there for a minute or two. 

“I need her Dad. I-I-“

“I know Tom.” Speaking so quietly it was barely audible, Dom’s eventual agreement at what Tom was saying was in a way a relief. Haz and his mum had both either been saying or implying that they would be okay no matter what - which came from a good place but was so infuriating. Because god forbid, if this situation got worse Tom knew it wouldn’t be okay. Nothing would ever be okay again. So his Dad’s simple acknowledgment meant a lot, causing Tom to turn round and embrace his slightly shorter father. 

Dr Goodwell silently watched the exchange for a short while and once the men eventually pulled away she stepped forward to give some more information. She went through what all the biggest and scary looking tubes and wires were doing for Y/n, before explaining the next steps. 

“Now as I said before we are sedating her at the moment, while we wait and see if she gets any complications from the surgery that are better treated while she is asleep. By this afternoon we will have a clearer idea and by that point we may choose to withdraw that sedation. It’s important that you are aware though that she might not wakeup immediately. Sometimes some people that have suffered similarly to your fiancé will be unconscious for a while in what I’d presume you’ve heard of as a ‘coma’. Now it’s not as dramatic as you see on TV shows, it’s just Ms Y/l/n’s brain giving her body a chance to recover. It’s often a longer process, which I know is something you don’t want to hear, but I have to be honest.” The doctor was stern but in a softer and from-a-caring-place. “These patients are suggested to possibly recover quicker if they have a steady support network behind them, which it seems like she does. That means that you need to look after yourself so you can help her sir, especially in what could be a long process. It’s not going to be helpful for Yn if you’re killing yourself trying to be here all the time… It seems like Y/n already has quite a big group of you here for her, so please remember you’ve got all of her care team here and everyone else to help you too….Does that make sense sir?”

“Tom” His Dad, in a gentle but firm warning tone, urged Tom to speak and to listen. Properly listen. 

“Yeh… I-yeh It’s just all a lot right now.”

“Of course… and we promise that if anything changes with her condition, you will be phoned straight away. You are welcome to stay as long as you want - the only rules are two at a time, no flowers, sign in and out and then sanitise your hands pretty excessively. If you need anything, Ms Y/l/n’s nurse will be your first port of call.”

“Thanks for everything” Dom nodded in a gracious manner, which the doctor seemed to massively appreciate - apparently, for the job they do not receiving a hell of a lot of thanks. 

“I’ll pop back in a little bit.”

And for a couple of hours everything everything felt like a bit of an anticlimax, nothing happened, not a lot changed. Just Tom and Dom sat next to Y/n’s bed in silence; Harrison and Nikki downstairs with the baby, till Dom got a phone call from Nikki asking them to meet at the neonatal unit  - which was limited by visitor numbers unlike the ICU. Thinking it’d be simple, the elder man gained Tom’s attention with a call of his name, explaining they should go down to meet up. 

“I’m not going down there.”

“Son, I know you’re worried by Y/n isnt going anywhere right now. The doctors said they’d call you if anything happens.”

“It’s not-“ Tom stopped himself, biting his tongue and looking away from his Dad. “I just don’t want to go down there.” Slowly, Dom was more and more realising Tom’s thought process and honestly… it scared him. In the hopes this was just a big misunderstanding he offered a different option - hoping Tom would equally refuse that. Dom suggested going down to the cafe instead, which most unfortunately Tom agreed to. It wasn’t leaving Y/n that was the issue, it was being near the baby. 

Tom’s daughter. Unnamed and apparently abondoned by both parents. 

Anyhow, Dom resigned to playing into Tom’s choice, perhaps Nikki and Harrison would be able to swing him round, to see sense. It still took Tom getting the nurse to triple check they had his correct number on record , just in case, before Dom could tear him away from the bed. Fortunately the pair found a quiet and secluded corner table, where Tom was still yet to be recognised, while Nikki and Haz found them too. 

What followed was Tom answering all his mum and Harrison’s questions about Y/n’s condition, in a blunt and emotionless manner - without Tom returning fire by asking any questions at all about his beautiful little baby girl. Eventually Nikki braved it, someone had to bring it up. 

“Well it sounds like littles going to change for a while… maybe you should head home for a bit? You’ve been up half the night and you look shattered love. You don’t have to go back to yours… you could stay in your old room for a bit?” Tom being by himself at the moment sounded like the most incredibly stupid idea ever, Nikki was offering it as a choice - when in reality there was only one option.

“Maybe later this evening I will? Just don’t want to leave her alone yet.”

“It’s already 7 love, you’ve not eaten all day, you got to look after yourself too.” Harrison and Dom sat awkwardly while Nikki tried to delicately encourage Tom into what was the only sensible plan, watching him nurse the small hot choclate in both his palms. Time really had lost all meaning at this point, for him it felt both years since he’d first arrived with Y/n and at the same time barely 10 minutes ago. It felt weird. 

“We can take shifts? If-if you want someone with her I mean… I don’t mind staying for a bit longer if it means you head back to your parents.” Harrison really truly didnt mind, in fact he sort of wanted to. He wanted to see Y/n’s face definitely alive, wanted to feel reassured by the monitors. Shockingly, Tom slowly nodded his head, surprising everyone with his lack of argument. None of them could work out whether it was a good thing him not putting up much arguement ; either he was heeding everyones advice of taking care of himself - or he had just given up. Harrison, as much as he didn’t want to, was favouring the latter. 

“Okay” Nikki declared optimistically “So maybe you and Harrison go up so you can say good night to Y/n, then we can all go and pick up the baby?” She opened the plan to the floor, allowing for input but got nothing - except maybe Tom’s jaw unconsciously tensing uncomfortable at the latter part of her statement. Dom noticed. 

Not one noticed but knew what it meant. His son blamed his granddaughter. His son, right now in that moment, hated the unnamed and totally helpless baby girl. 

part 4?

[tundrainafrica]

Title: Lovebug (7/12)

Summary:  

“It might be a bug.”

“A bug?”

“Sometimes the developers of this application make mistakes. This is our first time meeting I’m sure so…Isn’t it a bit weird that we just met for the first time and it rings like this? And for two strangers to coincidentally ring each other’s alarms?“

Levi is the developer of the Love Alarm App and Hange is married to Zeke.

Link to cross-postings: AO3

Other Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6

Notes: Feedback is very much appreciated :D

They all called her Hange. But they said her name like it was a title, like it was something that had to be said with as little chance of a slip of a tongue as possible. It was a practiced phrase, a relished sensation.

That was the first thing that came to mind when Levi started to give a little more thought to his surroundings. There was a bigger picture that could have explained such reactions. Hange was walking next to him. More importantly, next to her was Zeke, the owner of the two hectare complex housing both a sixteen floor hospital, a medical arts building and two parking lots.

And that was just one of his hospitals. Levi liked to remind himself of that, as he followed behind, a little more perceptive than usual of the stares, the whispers and the returned smiles.

Zeke was charismatic. Hange was charismatic. When they walked straight ahead, their strides confident, Levi could only gape, slowly becoming more self conscious of his own inability to keep his back straight. Suddenly, he was aware of his own inability to greet every single one of the workers by name, greet every single stranger like he had known them his whole life.

Maybe Hange did know some of them. “Hey, Hange that one patient you just talked to, is he regular or something?” Levi asked.

Hange shrugged. “No, I just met him.”

Levi hadn’t been close enough to hear the conversation but the grins exchanged, the confident tone with which Hange navigated the conversation. They had all seemed just a little too natural at first glance. She didn’t seem at all exhausted by multiple interactions in a row.

Hange had stopped just a few inches in front of Levi before turning back at him. “You seem stressed,” she commented.

Zeke went ahead, still chatting with a balding man in a business suit. He gestured in the same manner, chattered with the same confident tone.

Yes, after staring for a little longer than what could have been comfortable. Levi had to admit to himself, he was a little more stressed than usual. “I’m fine,” he said, turning to Hange, forcing his gaze on her. Averting eyes would only make the process of being stressed, more stressful.

“It sucks Erwin couldn’t come,” Hange continued.

“Erwin doesn’t know much about how the application actually works so I’ll just document what’s needed in our proposal and we’ll just need his take on prices and on budget allocation and that’s enough,” Levi explained.

“Maybe, they’ll do it over another game of golf,” Hange mused. “If we do play golf again, would you join?”

Levi raised one eyebrow at her. “Why waste your time playing golf again?”

“To close important business deals.”

“You can do it in the office.”

Hange chuckled. “You’d be surprised how many businessmen have closed deals on the golf course. Investors don’t work eight to five jobs in the office you know. A lot of them like to play a good game of golf then go into the office and sign the actual paperwork there. It builds camaraderie.”

“Is that why you know how to play? For business purposes?”

Hange nodded. “I’ve learned golf, a few gambling games to mingle. Besides, people like to know how their business partners and their fellow investors think and what better way than watching them over a few games right?”

“I’m not a rich businessman, I wouldn’t know,” Levi muttered. He walked ahead of Hange and surveyed his surroundings. There were patients, nurses, doctors and visitors. They all had their own conversations Levi would most likely never figure out the meat of. His own disconnect from them, his much closer connection to Hange and by extension to Zeke, had made him aware of the fact that he was painfully poor.

There was a wry smile plastered on Hange's face, as if she was starting to sense the discomfort herself. “Yeah, to be honest, it is a rich man’s game. Most businessmen who play golf, have shares in private golf courses or memberships and it’s customary to invite fellow business partners for a game in your home country club.”

“How much are these shares?” Levi enunciated those words just a little slower. It was an unpleasant thing to ask that only served to aggravate his own self consciousness. Somehow, he was feeling a little masochistic at that moment.

Hange shrugged. “Depends on the club. Maybe a few tens of thousands of dollars a year, sometimes a hundred.” It turned out she hadn’t noticed his discomfort or maybe he was just too good at hiding it.

Levi still attempted a light response. “Figures why I never learned how to play then.”

“Yeah, well to be honest, although I have played as a kid, I only got to play a lot more when I got together with Zeke. His family owns shares in country clubs in a lot of countries.”

It was a question of transitivity, one Levi quickly answered. And the large numbers he was starting to lose control of in his mind, had manifested as a cough, an almost painful, raspy one.

“Are you okay?” Hange asked. It had only been a week since the drowning incident at the beach. It subsided quickly after and Levi surmised that it wasn't the fault of his own poor health. It had been his own inability to fathom numbers, to comprehend wealth and his own blatant poorness that had frozen time for him.

Hospitals. Real Estate. Resorts. Country Club Shares. Although it was only a small aspect of it, his mind was also back to tasting the free flowing tea in Zeke’s private airplane.

“I’m fine,” Levi said. I just tried to mentally calculate the amount of money your husband earns and spends on a yearly basis. A mental note he added just for himself.

Zeke would obviously have a lot of money. He would obviously be faced with the problem on how to spend the money. Those were facts Levi grappled with as he took a deep breath just to clear the remnants of burns in his throat.

And those facts only made it more difficult to move as Levi stumbled closer and closer upon a burning conclusion.

Zeke was filthy rich. Zeke was powerful.

Levi was a meagre employee who made a meagre annual salary which was probably less than their pocket money for one trip to Europe.

Zeke had proven to be abrasive, just a little bit of a bastard. He proved to be somewhat unpredictable.

Levi was under his mercy, under Zeke’s very flamboyant whims. He clambered for solace elsewhere, back to Hange who had caught up to him. Hands behind her back, she continued to walk through the hospital like she was strolling through a park.

She was a good reminder that he wasn’t alone. Hange would help him through whatever whims or threats that came with taking up the business venture of a billionaire as a typical employee. As he studied Hange’s distracted expression, Levi had to admit, he wasn’t so sure where Hange stood in that whole relationship.

Zeke loves Hange. Hange loves Zeke. But how much help would Hange be to him? Even if Hange was helpful, even if she was supportive. Until when? For how long?

He soon concluded, the only thing he could be certain of was uncertainty. What would determine the success of the application, could be Hange or it could be him. The only thing he could predict or he could control would be his own actions.

It wasn’t motivation that had him moving faster. It was discipline. “Where are we going?” Levi asked, his voice more mechanical than a second ago for sure.

“Zeke’s office is on the top floor,” Hange answered.

Levi feigned understanding. Hange had said it like she had answered the question moments back. Maybe she did and he was just a little too unhinged at that moment. Besides, they were taking too many pit stops towards the office, only prolonging the grueling journey.

Hange and Zeke were talking to everyone on the way up. After a while, Levi tuned them out, willing himself to focus on something a little less stressful like how much the finishings on the hospital could have been, how much the tiled floors below him could have cost to not gather dust from his shoes so easily.

And he thought again to every single person being paid by Zeke to even be there. Time went incredibly slowly but as soon as they arrived at the front of the room, Levi could have sworn time passed way too quickly.

“Managing a hospital costs a lot of money, Levi,” Zeke explained as he stood outside the door of what could have been his office.

“I’m perfectly aware of that,” Levi responded, mustering as much ‘professional’ as he could with that sentence.

“Well, you look a little astonished, surprised? Or maybe that’s just your natural face.” Zeke said it like it was a truth that could be easily brushed off.

Somehow, that pushed a few buttons for Levi. He clamped his mouth shut, scolding himself for not even noticing that for a good few minutes that it was wide open.

That was more bait for Zeke. “Difficult to fathom eh? Just imagine some of these machines cost more money than most people would ever see in your life.”

And Zeke had multiple hospitals, more hospitals than Levi could even count with both hands and both feet maybe, and that monkey was completely aware of how much he actually had. It was in his demeanor, his approach towards others.

The door opened with a loud click and a grating creak. “It’s been a while Mr. Jaeger, Hange,” the woman on the other side greeted.

Everyone called Hange, Hange. Levi noted once again. It only seemed natural that Hange would have preferred that anyway.

Zeke went ahead inside the office confidently like he owned the place---since he owned the place. Hange gestured for Levi to follow behind and Levi used that last few seconds to spare a glance at the small girl with black curly hair, sleepy eyes and a very mature looking face.

“You’re Levi right? Zeke and Hange told me a lot about your application and we’re very much looking forward to seeing it in action.”

Levi subtly patted the phone in his front pocket, not for anyone to see. It just served as some reassurance that he hadn’t completely forgotten it at home or it hadn’t fallen off. When he spent too much time calculating numbers, calculating assets he would never own, and maybe never even fathom, he was aware that he may have been distracted enough to forget why he was there in the first place.

“This here is Pieck,” Zeke waved his hand with great flourish. Really though, when Levi was completely aware that that man most likely owned half the country, any gesture he did could be described as something overly flamboyant.

Pieck nodded at Zeke then at Levi. “I handle the psych wards here. Hange’s been requesting permission to test here and Zeke, he’s been raving non stop about your application,” she said with wonder in her eyes.

Zeke? Talking wonders about my app? Levi attempted to sneak a glance at Zeke, withdrawing it at the last minute after noticing, Zeke was looking right at him.

“There’s a lot of potential for that application,” Zeke answered. He had shifted to a more professional demeanor.

Hange nodded. “I mentioned this over email but Levi and I have been doing a lot of testing on it. This type of technology can be used to improve the accuracy of diagnosis, the effectiveness of treatments in psych wards…”

“Yes, I read your email and Zeke and I have been discussing this already.”

Hange’s eyes widened. She turned to Zeke. “You have?”

“I’ve been working with the other doctors here on getting volunteers among the kids. We currently have an emotional management program for kids and this would be a great opportunity to see the application. We could set a date for testing the application…” Pieck looked down at her tablet, sliding her finger over it.

From Levi’s own position, he couldn’t clearly see what she was fiddling with, his own tech savvy instincts though were hinting to a calendar. He continued to watch her finger slide over it, sliding across weeks or months he supposed.

More than enough time to get an application ready for testing.

“What about sometime this week? Would Wednesday do?”

“Wednesday? To test the love alarm app?” I thought we’ll be doing it now. He turned to Hange who seemed visibly confused as well.

Hange furrowed her brows. “We could test the love alarm now,” she suggested.

“Oh yes, definitely. But what about the test build of the application we requested?” Pieck asked.

“You have a test build already right?” Zeke turned to Levi. “If I remember correctly, you mentioned working on something… Hange, you’ve been neck deep on that proposal right?”

Levi opened his mouth to speak. It’s not ready. That was a lie. There was no build but Levi couldn’t even allow himself a sliver of confusion in his expression. It was a professional meeting. He was supposed to have everything under control.

“I have been working on something…” Hange started.

But it’s far from ready. We barely have anything out.

Pieck seemed too expectant. She turned her ipad over to him, clear enough for him to see. “We’ve informed the doctors of some free time around this week. It would be best to have it before most of the younger kids go on summer vacation. The cycle of our emotion management program ends this week and the doctors are already very familiar with the kids---”

“When does the next cycle end? We could get something available by then,” Levi said.

“We won’t be holding them during the summer unfortunately. We’ll be using that time to process data and results… So would December do?” Pieck turned to Zeke.

“What do you think Hange? This is one project you want to do right?”

Try another hospital. Another group of kids. Another program. Levi’s mind was racing with too many alternatives.

“Yes, but I don’t think the test application will be ready by then,” Hange argued.

“Where are you two now in the process?” Zeke asked.

The planning stages. Levi couldn’t even bring himself to say it.

“We don’t have anything worth presenting yet,” Hange said.

“Well, we’re not asking for a perfect product.” Zeke wasn’t addressing it at Hange. HIs blue eyes were fixed on Levi. When Levi found himself unable to even force a hint of indignance out of his mouth, he started to realize, those weren't just eyes. They were millions of dollars worth of investments, billions of dollars worth of assets in one long stare.

Levi tensed up on his seat. They weren’t asking for a perfect product but with that much money on the line, he didn’t have much room for his own decisions.

“You could do something right? Take some code from the love alarm just to get something ready?” Zeke suggested. They were reasonable suggestions Levi could easily expound on himself.

“What do you have in mind?” Levi forced himself to meet the man’s eyes.

“You’re the developer. I’m merely an investor.” Merely. The word, the way Zeke had emphasized it with an almost mocking tone, implied the complete opposite. “Tell me Levi, If he put his mind into it, what do you think a developer can do?”

They didn’t test the love alarm that day. Levi left the hospital two hours earlier than planned and went directly to his office.

***

He couldn’t have gone there any slower. The train couldn’t have run any slower and of course, he probably wouldn’t have wasted so much time fiddling with the key over his door knob if his hand hadn’t been shaking.

It was as if the whole world was trying to slow him down. He had two days---less than 48 hours--- to get something for testing. With the amount of work needed, the mountains of code needed to be written, copied and pasted, tested, Levi wasn’t seeing it in days, he was seeing the countdown in his head. When he stared at a clock, he was seeing numbers moving backward, sweet sweet time, pulling away from him.

Time was a precious asset, a precious resource and somehow, such a prospect had Levi clumsier than usual. He fell into the chair on his desk with a thump. He had leaned far back enough for a split second, that he had almost expected his chair to topple backwards.

He didn’t have the time to recover from such a terrifying prospect. While his hands were still shaking, his breaths coming out ragged, Levi forced himself forward. He turned on the computer, allowing himself a brief respite while it booted up.

His work computer was still one of the fastest of his kind and had only allowed him less than a minute to catch a breath. He typed out his username, password. He opened up the server manager.

Anger. Sadness. Happiness. Levi said aloud. That was what Zeke had promised them. As quickly as he repeated those requests to himself, Zeke’s other words echoed in his head, an unwelcome visitor.

You can break down the love alarm into that right? We’re not asking for a perfect application.

He took a deep breath, letting it out as a hard firm huff more than an exhale. As if the force in his chest would be enough to wake him up. The work was overwhelming. He should  be calling someone else in to help out.

There were other factors pulling him back though.

For one, it was a Saturday. He saw himself working all the way until Monday. Just recalling Zeke's face, his question had Levi’s head spinning, his hands hovering much more quickly over the keyboard.

It was a challenge from Zeke to him. And he concluded for himself, he didn’t even wanna get Hange involved.

It would be nice to have her here---. Something inside him attempted to argue.

To cheer you on? It was a selfish proposition so Levi scolded himself and concluded that a good punishment would be to just focus.

He did first what he knew best. He copied the necessary code from both the frontend and backend. He worked efficiently. While importing data, he was copying and pasting code. While booting a phone up, he was opening necessary tabs on Github and Stack Overflow.

By the time the sun was completely down, by the time his eyes started to get just a little too crusty and a little heavy, he had a sorry excuse for an interface, a sorry excuse for an API on the server.

He looked at the clock at the lower right of his computer. Eleven in the evening. How long had he been staring at a screen? It was a waste of time to calculate that, so he quickly calculated something a little more pressing.

He had far less than forty eight hours until he needed to submit something.

He had finished a framework in only a few hours but he had more than enough experience developing the love alarm to know, the hard part wasn’t in the actual building. It was in the data loading, it was in the actual testing.

He didn’t allow himself to relax. Around three in the morning, after spending hours cleaning the interface, he fell back dead on the backrest of his seat and he allowed himself a few minutes to close his eyes.

Few minutes turned into hours in a split second. He had forgotten to set an alarm. “Fuck,” Levi hissed. That word hadn’t been enough though to carry the frustration that had bubbled inside him since hearing those words from yesterday afternoon.

What can a developer do if they put their mind into it?

Hange’s words were a savior in their own way. Levi, I’m in no hurry. Take as much time as you need. They were comforting but they didn't do much to stop Levi from sitting up and going back to work.

Had it been for Zeke? Or had it been for Hange? Or had it been his own pride that had him pushing himself to restart the boot up the idle computer.

Zeke was the important stakeholder. He held the funds. Hange was just a benefactor of the funds. Ultimately, Zeke made the final choice.

He took one deep breath, letting out a shout at the exhale. He pulled himself to a kneeling position and pressed the power button on the computer. Pulling himself up by the base of the chair, he walked sluggishly towards his white board and wrote out three words, right next to each other.

Happy. Sad. Angry.

He had no time to make an algorithm. But he could make estimates. He wrote out the basic model under each word.

“When numbers are above this line, the alarm rings,” Levi muttered to himself. When he was speaking out loud, he seemed to make some sense.

It wasn’t as easy as that though. A machine learning model after all relies on probability, it relies on prediction and the only way to get the machine to figure out probabilities was to give it data to mine from.

He turned back to the computer and typed a query. Exporting the data would take a while. Another opportunity to rest.

He used that moment to take a glance at his phone. A notification from Hange was at the top of his lock screen. He immediately unlocked his phone.

5:34 AM

Ping me if you need any help.

It was just 6:30. Hange sent the message an hour ago.

5:35 AM

Sorry for checking in late. Zeke took me out for dinner

Maybe Hange had sensed the slight irritation Levi would feel at seeing the first text sent more than twelve hours since they separated at the hospital.

5:35 AM

He wanted to spend the night with me.

5:35 AM

Just the two of us.

5:37 AM

No Phones

Out of spite or out of exhaustion, Levi kept his reply stone cold and professional.

6:36 AM

Complete the table below:

Happiness: Endorphins, Serotonin, Dopamine, Oxytocin

Anger: Adrenaline, Cortisol

Sadness: ??????

Hange’s reply came before the data export even finished

6:50 AM

Sadness: Lack of neurotransmitters.

It was a shitty reply. So Levi gave a shitty reply in return.

6:50AM

?????

Lack of neurotransmitters? Somehow, Levi didn't trust Hange to reply on time. A quick google search later and a few hours of stress later, Levi had derived the sadness model form happiness model. The models were done, they just needed to be coded.

That did nothing to placate the turmoil inside him. For some odd reason, he thought looking at his phone could pacify him somehow.

8:28 AM

Sorry Levi, Zeke took us out golfing. I’ll try to be there before lunch.

8:37 AM

Zeke’s calling the shots today :’) I’ll still try to be there before lunch.

Levi kept his reply minimalistic.

10:36 AM

K

Technically, it was already ‘before lunch’ so Levi wasn’t expecting anything. They haven’t seen each other in a while. He whispered to himself, just to placate whatever irritation had settled within him, manifesting as an almost permanent grimace as he started to code again.

Lunch came and went quickly with a half finished burger and fries and just a passing thought that Zeke and Hange were probably having a feast at whatever country club they were in.

“Be here before lunch my ass.” Levi said those last two words with bitter burning venom, loud enough to echo in his small office space. It would be nice if somehow she could hear it wherever she was. “My. fucking. Ass. ” He repeated, channelling all the irritation, the exhaustion, the impatience into three words. In another space, maybe she could have heard it. “Fuck me in the ass.” He let out another taut swear, enjoying how that at least sent a splits econd long wave of euphoria through him.

Maybe it could count as therapy if he typed out the words ‘my fucking ass’ or ‘fuck me in the ass’ to Hange’s message box. He didn’t have to send it though.

2:37 PM

Zeke wanted to go shopping. I swear I tried to leave.

Fuck me in the ass. Levi typed. Under it, he typed something else.

Lunch time. My. Fucking. Ass.

It would have been nice to send out. For at least a few second, it sounded like a good idea to send it. Levi had enough self control though and he had enough forward thinking skills not to send it. The profanities on the message box were enough to at least calm him down.

No, you haven’t seen your hubby in a while. Take your time :-)

Was the sarcasm apparent? He focused for a little longer on the smiley face at the end.

4:35 PM

No, you haven’t seen your hubby in a while. Take your time :-) :-) ;-)

Then he added two more just for authenticity's sake. And he went back to coding, assuring himself that the burger and the regular fries would be enough to last him until he finished the damn application.

7:30 PM

Levi! You want anything for dinner?

Levi saw that message in between reviewing a hundred compiler warnings all on the same line of code. He ignored it. Instead, he decided sending himself a pull request and reviewing the code himself as a mental exercise was a better use of his time.

8:47 PM

Hey, I might be a little late. We went out to dinner but I bought you take out. :D How are things going?

Despite the compiler warnings, the code managed to compile, so Levi allowed himself the luxury of a quick break.

10:10 PM

Fine.

After replying, Levi sat up from his seat, shifted his weight to his legs one by one. The window was a good few feet away but he saw that as a good chance for exercise. He opened the window, allowing the fresh air in, first as a weak wave only thin enough to fit through the peek. He opened it a little wider, popping his head through the gap, noting how the streets were completely empty. He stared back at the clock on his computer screen.

Ten on a Sunday evening. Typical.

He sat back on the chair, with a loud and firm plop, freezing for as long as it took for the chair to stop shaking. He leaned back and pulled the test device from his drawer. A part of him was tempted to close all the Stack Overflow and GitHub tabs.

He wasn't ready to call it a day though. He didn’t trust his ability to code anything accurately with that short of a time frame.

A few minutes later, the APK file was loaded. He booted up the application, stifling a cringe at the shitty interface.

The shitty title screen with the shitty plain white background flashed on the screen.

ALAR

M

He wasn’t particularly good at front end and UI engineering so he closed his eyes and begrudgingly whispered to himself Zeke's words. “It doesn’t have to be perfect.”

Really though, it would have been nice to submit a perfect test application. Just to show up Zeke. Just to impress Hange. It would have been great and Levi allowed himself a grin as he leaned back on the chair and stared at the ceiling.

A good few hours later, he started to test. Soon after, he started to theorize something else. Maybe he jinxed it. Maybe he shouldn’t have been so hopeful.

Suddenly, he was scolding himself for just being a little too ungrateful at the shitty user interface. His mind continued to wander, his threads of imagination continued to wind, interweaving against one another, tightening to uncomfortable knots in his brain. And suddenly he was scolding himself over the hundreds of compiler warnings he ignored.

The application should alarm when someone angry, sad or happy holds it. That was how he programmed it.

Or at least, that was how it was supposed to work. When his brain was muddled with confusion and eventual frustration, heavy with tension, he took a quick break to stare at his phone.

11:58 PM

Zeke got a little drunk. I just have to bring him home.

Levi decided then, (and he was certain of it), he’d rather not have Hange there.

11:59 PM

No need to come here. Go take care of him.

His phone volume had been set to the lowest level. Just in case, Levi put his phone on silent as well.

He turned his attention back to the test device. “Come on, fucking hell. Work.” Levi hissed as if the code, the computer understood anger, as if it understood frustration.

“It’s the exact same fucking code. I just changed the algorithm,” Levi said louder, as if the code understood verbal arguments.

All to no effect. So he went back to the compiler warnings.

1:38 AM

Just tucked Zeke in bed. I’m taking a cab now. I swear, I’m really on the way now.

Levi had conveniently checked his phone around the time Hange texted. He had been checking the phone anyway in ten minute intervals.

1:39 AM

No need.

He started to use his own phone for testing, just in case a diffeent device suddenly made everything work. Besides, he liked to see the notifications there. He liked her messages. Yet at the same time, he didn’t want her there. Frustrated and confused, he slid his phone towards the end of the desk and it hit the wall with a resounding clatter, loud enough to make Levi wince.

He slipped out of the chair and onto the floor with a crash, loud enough to rival the impact of the phone on the wall just a second ago. His back was sore, but still he couldn’t help but entertain the thought that he would have been willing to experience that again, just to get the application to work.

You’re angry now right? He asked himself, as he held the test device in front of him.

The alarm didn’t ring.

You’re sad? Right? He was sad. He was sure his eyes were red rimmed from lack of sleep. His eyelids were a little crusty for sure. And as the application stayed silent, stayed inactive even when it was right in front of him, even when he had dropped almost painfully on his face, the phone remained silent, still.

Maybe his application was an idiot. Maybe it fell for fake smiles. So he forced a smile then, as he pressed his back on the ground, stretched his legs forward and stared at the ceiling above him.

Silence.

He broke the silence himself, with one grunt as he slammed the phone on the floor next to him. “Fucking hell.”

The one curse had him reflecting. How angry was he? Who was he angry at? And why wasn’t the alarm going off?

Anger was a negative feedback loop. The more he let his anger take over, the more frustrated he became. Then the more the device should have rang but it didn’t. Then the more frustrated he became.

The frustration should have been enough to make it ring. If it had been working correctly.

Eventually, the anger became strong enough to take control elsewhere. It pushed him to turn towards the desk, push himself up, just high enough to be able to stretch his hand up and pull his own personal phone back down with him on the floor. He lay back down on the floor, raised his phone on front of him and booted it up. He turned on the application and looked through it again.

No response.

Happy. Sad. Angry.

No response for any of them.

A banner appeared, falling over the application.

1:59 AM

Levi, I’m here, where do I go?

No need. He willed himself to type it again. He didn’t want her there, but he did. Conflicted feelings had him frozen on the floor, the phone just above him, his eyes fixed on the screen.

If Hange came, then she came. Who was he to stop her?

2:00 AM

Do I go to your office??

2:05 AM

If you don’t answer, I’ll just assume you’re in the office.

2:07 AM

Even if I waste my time, It’s my fault anyway.

2:07 AM.

I’m sorry.

Hange wasn’t in any obligation to be there anyway. She was an investor, not an employee, he reminded himself. He was watching the banners shift like he was watching paint dry. The former though was far more interesting. More than interesting. It was a relief. It was a consolation.

It was home. In the dim room, all alone, he wanted her there. By god, he wanted her there.

There were footsteps and they quickly got louder, the sound of a bag hitting the door, then the sound of the rustle of belongings.

He had left the office door unlocked at least and she was impolite enough to barge in. He liked her impoliteness, it had just made everything flow much better.

He followed her with his eyes, as she slipped through the crack of the door. He watched closely as her face shifted from that of pure surprise, worry… Then pity.

Was that pity? Did he look that pathetic?

“Hey, are you okay?” Hange asked.

“Tired,” Levi answered. He gave her a once over, allowing himself a sliver of a smile at her cocktail dress, the jacket over her, the light make up on her face, the golden studs on her ears. God she was beautiful. “Fun night?”

She nodded. “Zeke wanted to have fun tonight. I humored him by tagging along,” she said lightly.

He’s a lucky man. “Must have been fun.”

She put a hand to his face, and gave him a light slap. “I brought takeout, some sandwiches. Did you have dinner already? We can have it for breakfast.”

She had slapped him hard, not hard enough to leave him burning definitely, but still, he felt some heat resonate from his cheeks. “I tried,” he muttered.

“Tried what?” Hange asked.

“Building the app.”

“Levi, don’t kill yourself over it. You could have asked Petra, Gunther, Eld or Oluo for help right?” It was just like Hange to mention their names like she knew them her whole life.

“They’re on leave.” It was a natural excuse and that had been one reason why he refused to ask for help. He surmised that maybe some of it had been more than that.

“I tried to ask for an extension from Zeke,” she said.

“How did that work out?” It was a half assed response at best. He didn’t want the extension.

“He said no. He expected a lot from you. Besides, he promised the hospital already… Without consulting us.”

"Without consulting us?" Levi repeated. He slammed his fist down on the floor. "Fucking hell."

"Yeah, it's our fault. Zeke did that. I should have helped you and I know I made you wait…" Hange's voice was warm, it was a melody to his hears. ".. .so when I was stuck with Zeke, I made a few calls, picked this up from a good friend of mine." She pressed something cold into his palms.

He didn't even have the energy to crane his neck.

"It's a USB, with data from previously made research, on neurotransmitters, responses from people who've taken tests. I thought it would help build the app so I made a few calls and --"

"I'm done."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm tired."

"Hey, we could cancel tomorrow. I'll just tell Pieck. We can rebuild the app, focus on getting something out."

"Hange, I'm done."

"You're giving up?" There was a crack in her voice, something that sent a twinge to him

He let out a soft chuckle. "No. I managed to make something.”

Hange's eyes widened, a smile curled up her lips. “You’re kidding.”

“But it barely even works."

"What makes you say that?"

"It doesn't ring."

No matter how angry, no matter how sad, no matter how happy, it didn't ring. The algorithm was broken. That had been Levi's conclusion. The same conclusion he had come across when they had tested the love alarm again a few days back.There were just too many compiler warnings maybe?

Hange wasn't a developer and maybe that's why she had been a little hopeful. "I'll test it out, send me the file?"

One APK file later, a few clicks on the phone, and the alarm rang in the dim narrow room.

It made his head pound, but still, it was music to his ears. He had been too tired to even let out a strong exhale, a sigh of relief. "Are you happy? Sad? Angry?" He whispered.

"It says here, I’m happy," Hange answered.

"At least we know it works," Levi said.

"Why don't we try yours again?" Hänge pulled his hand up, guiding the phone back in between his finger tips.

"It didn't work the first time," Levi argued.

"Again." Hange was insistent and at that moment, she was much stronger than he was.

He unlocked his phone, and opened the application.

"Turn on the alarm," Hänge said.

He didn't need guidance, he made the application after all. Her voice had been coaxing, she had made everything go smoother in her own way.

He dropped the phone on his chest, stared up at the ceiling, frozen as the phone vibrated in his chest. "What does it say?"

Hange let out a short laugh. "This application can read multiple feelings at the same time? Is this expected behavior?"

"Why?"

“It says you're angry."

"I'm tired. Of course I'm angry."

"And sad," Hange added.

" Oh really?" Something started to sting at his eyes.

"And guess what, it also says you're happy."

"Am I?" Levi asked. All he could feel then was relief, relief that in the end it had alarmed. "I guess that means we're at least kinda ready for tomorrow…" He could have said more, if his voice didn't crack.

"Hey, rest. It doesn't look like you slept well."

"I slept a bit last night."

"People need at least six hours of sleep at night… and really, Levi you don't look so good."

He didn't need to see it to understand. His eyes were heavy, his rims were prickling at one another and one cheek was wet, and it brought the 'wet' all the way down to his chin, in one straight trail. A few more soon followed.

Sad. Angry. Happy. But he liked to think he was just exhausted. That feeling loomed far above the others anyway.

It rang for no reason then. He concluded. Maybe it was a bug. After all, how did something just start magically working after not working for hours before that?

Hange spoke up again in the slience. "Hey, are you crying?"

He only noticed it when she asked. His mind was quick to explain it. "Sometimes, people tear up when they're sleepy right?"

***

Hange was there when he woke up and he was glad to see her. Her eager presence was a reminder enough that she didn’t have to be there.

“Happy Monday!” Hange chirped joyfully, as if that had been the best thing to say while Levi was still getting used to his surroundings.

He never completely got used to it. The back of his head was throbbing from having fallen asleep on the hard wooden floor. The front of his head pounded. He couldn’t even lift his head without feeling some protest from his back. A light prickling sensation had settled on his fingers, all extending from an ache in his wrist. “Happy Monday,” Levi muttered. Was she mocking him?

“Sorry, I didn’t think it would be a good idea to move you,” Hange said wryly.

Not moving him might have been the better option. He barely got any sleep at night. In the small office, if it were between falling asleep sitting down on a comfortable chair, falling asleep on a floor, the floor won by a little more.

The phone sat on his hand, cold and hard. Levi pulled it up to his face to check the time.

6:30 AM. Work starts at eight. Fuck. He forgot to deploy application changes the night before.

“You should take a leave.” Hange could have been reading his mind or the stress could have just been apparent in his heavy eyelids and his voice, a hoarse whisper.

“What makes you say that?” Levi asked. He had hoped to use that moment to prove how okay he was. Sitting up was enough to leave him wincing, dealing with his exhausted body that had protested such a simple movement.

“You don’t wanna take one?”

“I forgot to deploy the changes. We’re supposed to do a sanity check today,” Levi said.

“Do it over breakfast?” Hange suggested, pressing a brown paper bag on his hand. "I brought sandwiches from last night."

“You know you can go home now. We can meet later at the hospital.”

“I wanna have breakfast,” Hange said, her voice firmer than a second ago.

“Go have breakfast with Zeke.”

Hange’s face was like that of a wounded puppy. It came quickly as a flash before shifting to something a little more sly. “I’ll take you out to tea? You never had your tea time at the country club.”

It could have been tea or maybe it was the efforts Hange had taken to insist. Sometimes, insisting was more than enough. Particularly then, when he was overwhelmingly and unbearably tired.

“What do you have in mind?” Levi asked.

“We can see what’s open,” Hange answered.

He let out a sigh, as if deciding to take a break was the hardest thing he could have done. All for the sake of one Hange Zoe. On the contrary, it was a surprisingly easy decision to make.

Levi opened up the messaging application on the phone, running his mind through quick calculations. Three hours. Just enough time for quick tea, enough time to get home and shower and get back to the office by ten.

Running late. Deploy fixes to production. We sanity check when I get to the office at around ten.

He sent over that message to the group chat of his own team, making sure to tag Eld and Petra.

He felt a little guilty but something else won over. A weak suggestion, heavily supported by his sore back, his swollen eyes and his trembling hands. Maybe he deserved a break.

***

They moved the goalposts. Levi was in no shape to brave the public transportation crowds on a Monday morning with a total of less than six hours of sleep the past few hours while his mind was complete mush at having coded an entire application himself.

Hange had alternatives. “I could have called a car to pick us up.”

Alternatives Levi wasn’t completely in good terms with. “No thank you, I’d rather not impose on your dear husband.” On top of that, he wanted his tea now.

The only shop which sold tea the least painful walking distance away was the convenience store just outside the building grounds. The convenience store had enough variety that he could be at least a little creative with his breakfast.

Paper tea cup in hand, Levi popped open the cup, He had asked for an extra large cup for one reason.

The green tea bubbled inside the container and Levi was a little adventurous that morning and maybe a little crazy. The past two days were crazy. He reminded himself, obliterating the guilt and the fear of risking his own health and sanity.

He poured ten shots of espresso onto the cup of green tea. He couldn’t be too sure how it would taste. Then he remembered, no one actually drank caffeine for the taste anyway. He drank half of it in a gulp. It could have been the bitterness that burned, or the actual heat of boiling water. When he was still making a conscious effort just to be aware of the streets in front of him, just to stay sitting up on the pavement, he couldn’t be too sure.

He took a big bite of his sandwich to drown it out. Then another. Then two more before crumpling the brown paper bag and pocketing it.

Hange humored him, sitting down next to him on the pavement just in front of the convenience store. She was still in her cocktail dress, a jacket over it. The corners of her eyes were still a little darker from the make up from last night. She looked ridiculous, like an overgrown teenager out on a wild night and had failed to get home on time.

His mind was running on too many scenarios, a total waste of brain power. The espresso would kick in eventually. And maybe it had been the espresso that had him suddenly laughing like an idiot.

Or maybe he was going crazy.

“Are you okay?”

He probably was going crazy. At that point, Levi was already skimming the stages of acceptance. “Where the fuck did you even go last night?”

Hange sighed. “Drinking, a little gambling. Zeke wanted to celebrate the new deal. ”

“And that’s why you played golf that morning. ”

Hange hummed in response. “Zeke and Erwin played. I probably would have invited you but yeah, with the application… Would you have had time?”

Somehow, Levi was slightly offended that they hadn’t even invited him. He blamed the caffeine. “Really? Well, fuck it. I don’t even play golf.” The caffeine continued to bubble, the irritation followed suit. “I’m sure they had a good sleep the past few nights,” he added.

“Well, they can’t do what you did.”

“Who cares? I’m at the mercy of money--- Zeke’s money. Rich people like to throw around orders then money,  as if money’s just magic. As if developers --- employees are just bunnies or trick monkeys.”

Hange put up her hands in surrender. "You have every right to shit on rich people."

Levi dropped his shoulders and leaned back on the wall. “What can I do when millions of dollars are on the line?”

“You could have said---”

“Said no? And what? Risk losing this deal?” Risk losing you?

“I told you before, this is my pet project. This is my timeline. I can decide how long it takes. Zeke just wants---”

"Wants what?" Levi challenged.

It was a challenge for Hange but it looked like the world was on a mission to accept it. "Hange, what are you doing here?"

It took Levi a few seconds longer to put two and two together. After all, imagining that big ham of a voice within proximity of a place that sold teabags by the dollar was preposterous even for him.

"Zeke, what are you doing here?" Hange asked.

"Just need to drop a few legal documents at Erwin’s office. I saw you two on the way here, in a convenience store parking lot of all things?" His voice was judgemental, as expected. Still it was softer than that of two days ago.

It was easy for Levi to surmise that the blonde was most likely nursing a hangover. He relished the view of Zeke struggling to approach them. Misery loved company after all. Zeke’s gait was a little slower and if Levi squinted, he was sure the ungraceful wobble would have been more laughably noticeable.

“Right, you had the lawyer look over it already?”

Zeke nodded. “I’ve set up a post dated check.” He turned to Levi. “You’ve finished developing a build for testing?”

Levi managed a nod, closing his eyes as he did, to alleviate the pounding. And of course the irritation.

Zeke had been professional about the question. Levi couldn’t help but sense entitlement in it. When he was in a bad mood, any request reeked of entitlement. He spent a good few seconds after, reminding himself, Zeke was paying millions for it, and deserved every right to ask questions and expect.

“Zeke…” Hange sounded, almost breathless. “This is more money than I expected.”

How much money? Levi didn’t wanna know but from the tremble in her hands, her wide eyes, Levi didn’t think he even wanted to know.

“Think of it… as compensation for forcing you to delay your PhD,” Zeke said. “That was your plan before we got married right?”

PhD?  Now that he did think about it, Hange mentioned something about delaying a PhD, all to marry Zeke.

“Yeah, if this study… this testing goes well, I could publish it for my doctorate degree,” Hange said, a ghost of a smile on her lips. A ghost of a smile for just a second. It soon got wider.

Levi only noticed a second later, his mouth had gone the opposite direction as realization dawned on him.

Right, Hange wanted to do research.

Right, Hange wanted a PhD.

And Zeke was the one who had put everything together for him at that moment. “This is your dream right?” He pressed the cheque deeper into her palms.

Hange nodded. Was that the first time he had ever seen her struggle to find the right words?

The hints were all there. The pet project. The doctorate. Hange Zoe who was just a little too interested in neuropsychology.

Why didn’t you tell me this was your dream? This was your PhD? It seemed most criminal that he couldn't even put two and two together. Levi would have wanted to scream back then. He wasn’t in any position to break anyone’s good mood though. Hange’s smile was too wide, her eyes too bright.

“I have a meeting at nine. Breakfast?” Zeke asked.

“I had something to eat already,” Hange said. “But we could get a quick brunch.”

Zeke turned back to Levi. “You’re free to join us.”

“No, I have work at ten,” Levi said. “I’ll see you two later, in the hospital.”

“I’ll see you later.” Hange gave Levi a softer smile, one just for him. He couldn’t read too much into it then. Still, he continued to stare, as she turned back and got into the car.

Zeke stayed outside for a second, leaning on the door. His eyes fixed on Levi’s.

Tired eyes on tired eyes. Levi though wasn’t sleepy enough to hear those last few words.

“Levi, thank you,” Zeke said.

Levi was taken aback for just a second at such a seemingly uncharacteristic expression. Fortunately, pleasantries were basic and automatic if he just put on the right facade. “You’re welcome.”

He watched Zeke get into the car and he stood still for a second longer, watching the car get smaller before it turned the corner of the parking of their building. He started to reflect while recalling the interactions until then. He should have been somewhat grateful for the pleasantries exchanged. After all, the man was worth billions and there weren’t many who did receive the honor of being personally thanked by billionaires.

Somehow, that exchange had only made him sadder. Hange being there next to him suddenly going absent had only made him lonelier. He gulped the rest of the concoction of a while ago, coughing out the bitterness, shaking his head to feel that last buzz.

He checked his phone. 8am. He needed a shower before work but his legs were deadweight.

So he called a taxi, not bothering to calculate the cost. After all, he did deserve a break.

[elwenyere]

A Very Small Grease Fire (and Other Human Disasters)

(Thanksgiving ficlet for the Stony and Avengers fam; also on AO3)

The Avengers didn’t have the best track record with Thanksgiving. The first time the dinner had ended in disaster, it had been Steve’s fault. One rainy fall Sunday, just months after the Battle of New York, Steve had been picking at a bowl of mint-chip ice cream, feeling tired of getting looks of sympathy about the holidays and absolutely exhausted by feeling sorry for himself. If Bruce and Clint hadn’t chosen that particular afternoon to ask him whether there was anything special he wanted for Thanksgiving – raising the question with just enough gentleness to make Steve’s jaw tighten – he probably would have said, “I’m a sweet potatoes guy” and left it at that.

Instead, Steve had been seized by a spirit of mischief. Putting on his most morose poker face, he had proceeded to invent a series of Depression-era dishes, from “Hoover Rolls” to “Poor Man’s Potatoes,” the recipes for which he concocted out of the blandest ingredients he could imagine. By the time he was in the process of describing his third Crisco-based dessert, Steve was sure he had gone far enough to reveal the joke; but Bruce and Clint had continued nodding encouragingly and jotting down notes.

The results had been borderline inedible. And even though the sight of Tony doubled over with laughter when Steve finally fessed up had thawed out a part of his heart he hadn’t even known was still on ice, the experience of eating a holiday dinner in which half the dishes tasted like over-starched socks forced even Steve to admit that the prank had been a bit of a Pyrrhic victory.

The second time…well, Steve would have said the second time was his fault too – though he supposed the rest of the team would blame the extremists who tried to kidnap the governor. Clint had just started basting the turkey when the “Assemble” alarm went off, and the team had to pile in the Quinjet to deal with a hostage situation at the capitol. It should have been an easy job – in and out with plenty of time to take the butter for the piecrust out of the freezer – but then one of the extremists had pulled the pin on a grenade just yards away from a state senator’s eight-year-old son, and four hours later Steve was waking up in the burn unit at Walter Reed hospital with the anguished sound of someone shouting his name still ringing in his ears.

“You fucking idiot,” the same voice had greeted him, and Steve looked up to see Tony sitting by his bed, the lines around his eyes drawn tight over a surgical mask. “You’re supposed to be a tactical genius, and you haven’t learned a single new method for containing explosives since basic training in 1943? I’m going to equip your suit with goddamn ballistic plates.”

“Tony,” Steve managed, feeling a halo of pain radiate up his scalp. “Are you okay? Was anyone hurt?”

Steve thought he saw something mist across Tony’s eyes, but he couldn’t be sure. The more fully he became aware of his body, the more he noticed the pull of his skin cells contracting in uneven loops around the burns on his torso, and it was taking a considerable amount of energy to keep Tony’s face in focus.

“Everybody’s fine but you, Steve,” Tony assured him. “And the doctors said you should be able to move to the general floor in a few hours. So shut those baby blues and let the serum do its job, because there’s a whole team of keyed-up superheroes waiting to see you, and they’re emptying the hospital vending machines fast enough to cause a run on the Frito-Lay factory.”

Steve had drifted in and out of consciousness for a while after that, finally waking up long enough to eat a holiday dinner of contraband take-out, which Natasha had smuggled into the hospital using only Thor’s tendency to knock over delicate instruments and Bruce’s oversized jacket.

“When you sign up to be an Avenger, no one warns you about doing overtime as a falafel mule,” Bruce had mused, leaning back to let Natasha steal a fry off his plate.

“I still think we could have gotten that eighth kebab if you’d been willing to consider pant legs as additional real estate,” she told him.

"You should all be eating stuffing and pumpkin pie,” Steve grimaced. “I’m sorry you’re stuck here on Thanksgiving.”

“Listen, Cap,” Clint replied, waving a dolma at him, “if you’re going to apologize for anything, apologize for the purgatory potatoes you tricked me into making last year. At least this year we have food that doesn’t have the texture of fast-drying cement.”

“Those tubers had truly been abandoned by the gods,” Thor agreed solemnly. “But I maintain that the Big Band Banana Pie was actually quite delicious.”

“Just don’t make the third-degree burns and hypovolemic shock a holiday habit, Rogers,” Tony put in. “Some of us are trying to watch our blood pressure.”

Tony had leaned over to adjust the settings on Steve’s bed as he spoke, and by the time he finished, a dull tugging sensation across Steve’s chest had loosened – the pain subsiding almost before Steve could register that it had been bothering him.

So that was why, after two years of throwing wrenches in the Avengers’ Thanksgiving plans, Steve was determined to make sure that year three went off without a hitch. He’d drawn up an elaborate plan for maximizing the utility of the Tower kitchen’s two ovens and seven burners and for optimizing the team’s various culinary skills. The operatives had been briefed the night before, and by 10:30 AM on Thursday, Steve was fluting a pie crust, Bruce was stripping fresh thyme leaves into an herb blend, Clint was whipping up a roux for the mushroom gravy, Thor was mashing potatoes and parsnips in an industrial-strength metal vat, and Natasha was dicing carrots and celery with a speed and precision that felt vaguely unsettling.

After checking the team’s progress against his itinerary, Steve turned to the next task on his own list: bringing Tony Stark his emergency coffee. Bruce had just made a second pot, and Steve poured some into the largest cup he could find: a purple novelty mug, featuring a drawing of the Hulk and the words “You Wouldn’t Like Me Without My Coffee.” He paused to tuck a few biscuits into a napkin (Tony’s relief at sighting fresh coffee sometimes opened up a narrow window during which Steve could feed him breakfast without being noticed), and headed down to the lab.

He found Tony standing with both arms braced against his worktable, designs for what looked like the paneling of Steve’s uniform projected in front of him. Steve cleared his throat, and Tony whirled around, the slump of his shoulders morphing into a graceful lounge by the time he was facing Steve.

“I was just about to come up,” he said. “I have a few finishing touches left here and then I’m all yours, Cap. Give me everything that can survive being the tiniest bit overcooked.”

Steve walked over to put Tony’s coffee on the table and then felt his breath catch in his throat when Tony reached out and took the mug from his hand instead.

“There’s no need,” Steve responded to cover his reaction, flexing the hand that had brushed Tony’s as he let it fall back to his side. “We’ve got the schedule covered for now. I was actually hoping I could talk you into a snack break.”

He waved the napkin of biscuits experimentally.

“Are you cutting me from the Thanksgiving roster, Rogers?” Tony asked. “Just because one time I set a very small grease fire – which I contained almost immediately, by the way.”

“The vase I broke when I sprinted into the kitchen would beg to differ,” Steve smiled. “But it’s not that. I just wanted to do this for you: a big dinner and sitting down with family.”

“For me?” Tony blinked at him. “Why?”

Steve started to cross his arms across his chest before realizing that he would risk crushing the biscuits. He settled for clasping his wrist with his free hand instead, widening his stance slightly and taking a deep breath. Come on, Rogers. Take it on the chin.

“Because I wanted to tell you that I woke up in this century alone,” he said, “and that you were the first person stubborn enough to make sure I wouldn’t stay that way. Now I wake up to a kitchen full of people who tease me about my lists but who know why I need them – who will eat dinner rolls that taste like soggy chalk just to make me feel at home.” He paused. “People who stay by my side for eight straight hours at the hospital.”

Steve looked up and caught Tony’s eyes, his heart rate picking up speed as memories of those same eyes flashed through his mind in quick succession: tearing up with laughter over a plate of cornstarched bananas, pinched with fear over a surgical mask, narrowed in concentration over the remote control for an adjustable bed.

“Romanov has an awfully big mouth for a spy,” Tony said with a rueful smile.

“I think it was a tactical leak,” Steve acknowledged, “to motivate her mark. She knew I needed a push. Because I’ve messed up the past two years, and I needed to tell you: pretty much everything I’m thankful for in my new life is here because of you.”

Tony was staring at him, his eyes darting quickly across Steve’s face as if JARVIS were scanning it for data. Steve held up under the silent scrutiny as long as he could before letting out an explosive breath.

“Anyway, sorry to interrupt you,” he said quickly. “You’ve got work to do, and I’ve got to go make sure everything’s on track upstairs. I’ll uh – I’ll have Bruce come get you when dinner’s ready.”

He started to make an about face toward the door, but Tony caught his arm and held him in place.

“Give a guy a goddamn minute, Steve,” he said softly. “I’m having to do a major cognitive reboot over here. It takes a while for the operating system to come back online. Just…sit down? Let me show you the new flame retardants I’m adding to your uniform.”

Steve complied. And as he watched Tony run through the specs, gulping coffee and nibbling absently at the biscuits, he realized that he knew what Tony was saying even before Tony finally spoke the words: “I’m thankful every time you wake up.”

[winryofresembool]

Things We Lost in the Fire, ch 31

aka Caleo uni au

Fic summary: Calypso starts studying at a new university, but to her annoyance her new flatmate is a loud mouthed mechanic who also likes to sneak his dog in whenever. But as she learns to know him better, she realizes they might have more in common than what she first thought. Eventually, even the darkest secrets come out…

Chapter summary: At Waystation, pt 4/?

A/N: Soo sorry about the long wait! This was a very long and kind of tricky chapter to write so it took me longer than I would have wanted. But in a way this is (ironically) a good day to post this chapter as it's the Mother's day in many parts of the world today. (Happy Mother’s day Esperanza Valdez ;___;)

Before we head into this chapter, I want to give you guys a warning that it (specifically, the flashback in the beginning of the chapter) talks about what happened to Leo's mother, so in case you find that too hard to read, feel free to skip it. (If you have read HoO, I think you can somewhat guess what to expect)

Thanks for all the amazing support you guys have given me so far! ♥ It's what keeps me going! Now, enjoy, and remember that I'd really like to hear what you think because there's a lot going on in this chapter!

Words: 5550 (yeah, long one)

Genre: romance & hurt/comfort

Warnings: minor character death (talked about), be aware!

previous chapter / AO3

*flashback*

There was fire. So much fire.

Leo had been tinkering with his toy tools and drawing some simple blueprints in the living room when he had remembered that he had left his hammer into his room. He went to look for it and it took him a couple of minutes to locate it from under the unfinished toys and papers he had thrown around. Unfortunately, that couple of minutes had been enough for all hell to break loose in the living room.

He started smelling smoke and ran back downstairs to see where it came from. The wooden floor and several pieces of furniture in the living room were on fire, which seemed to have started from the papers he had left near the fireplace. Leo’s mind went completely blank like a machine that had just been shut down. The only thing that he was capable of thinking was: what do I do?

His mother had put a fire in the fireplace before she had left to run some errands because it had been a cold day. She had warned Leo several times to be careful with it, even putting a bucket of water and a smothering blanket nearby in case of emergency. But it was already too late to use them; the fire had already spread too far in the room. Because of his state of panic, it took Leo a while to manage to make decisions, but finally, his brain told him: get your phone so you can call mom, and run.

What his 8-year-old brain didn’t understand: he should have just left the building right then and asked a neighbor or someone to call the fire department instead. But Leo could only think how the very thing his mother had been worried about just happened and how she’d probably never forgive him for – no matter how accidentally – burning their home. He had vague memories of leaving his cell phone that he had gotten a few months earlier on his birthday into his room, so he ran upstairs as quickly as he could with his short, wobbly legs. However, the phone wasn’t on his desk like he had anticipated, and it took him a while to remember he had thrown it under the bed after getting frustrated with his homework; the words on the textbook they were supposed to read had not made any sense to him.

Once he finally found the cell phone and went back downstairs to leave the building, the fire had already spread so much that he could barely see anything from the smoke. Coughing, he tried to cover his mouth with his shirt so he could protect himself from the smoke and dash to the door, but he soon realized it was not possible. His road was blocked, and the only way for him to get out would be through the upstairs windows.

Leo didn’t have the time to figure out how to open the windows so he ended up breaking his bedroom window with a real hammer that he happened to find nearby. Shaking, breathing heavily and trying to avoid the glass shards, he looked down. The fall would be quite big, at least 5-6 meters, but he was no stranger to broken bones. The fights with other school kids had taught him a thing or two about that. He would still be more likely to survive the fall than trying to go out from downstairs; at least there were no stones or other hard objects under the window. He was so full of adrenaline that he didn’t even notice that his hands were bleeding; they had hit the broken glass when he had peeked out.

Finally, he managed to gain enough courage to climb up the windowsill and lift one of his legs over the edge. In the process he scraped himself some more in the glass and tore his pants a bit as well, but who cared? It was a very minor thing compared to his mother’s face if she’d find him dead in the house. For a moment Leo thought about all the blueprints and devices in development in the basement of the house, how hours and hours of his mother’s work would go to waste if the entire house burned down – but that was a thing to worry about for later. It was already too late to do anything but to try to escape.

With a huge lump in his throat as he imagined how his mother would hate him when she’d find out about the fire, Leo finally lifted his other leg over the edge as well, sitting on the windowsill with his legs hanging in the air. The distance between him and the ground seemed even bigger than it had earlier, but he had to do this. Slowly, he inched himself forward, hesitating a bit more, but the sound of the fire breaking something downstairs startled him and finally, he dropped down.

After that his memories started getting hazy. He fainted when hitting the ground and when he first woke up he noticed the pain in his left ankle and some blood coming from his forehead. He was laying on the grass, not unharmed but at least alive, and suddenly he got aware that he had to get farther from the house because the fire could easily spread to the surrounding grounds. He could only hope that a neighbor or a passerby had already called the fire department because he himself would not be able to do that, not with his dizzy head and the pain everywhere in his body. Before he passed out again, his last thought was: when would his mother be back?

The next time he was conscious, he remembered trying to drag himself forward with his hands. He could not stand up, and not even crawl, so that was the only thing he could do. Inch by inch, he got a bit farther from his falling spot, and by that time he also started hearing some distant sirens and human yells somewhere, but his mind could not comprehend what all of it meant.

After that, the next thing he remembered was being lifted from the ground by a first responder. The man tried to tell him soothing words, probably something like ‘poor child, it will be alright’, but Leo didn’t care. He wished the fogginess of his brain would just fade so he could speak and walk on his own feet and find out what happened to his mother – if she returned yet – but afterwards, he wished he would have never found out.

He kept slipping in and out of consciousness for a while, not really sure what was happening around him, until finally he woke up in the hospital. One of his legs and arms had been plastered and a bandage had been wrapped around his head. Already he wished he could have just ripped them off and run away but he knew that wasn’t possible. A couple of minutes later, a nurse finally arrived at his bedside.

“Oh, good, I’m glad you’re awake,” she said, testing his forehead to see if he had a fever. “You scared us there, young one.”

“It’s not me you should be worried about! Where’s my mom?! Hasn’t anyone told her I am here?” Leo demanded in a hoarse voice.

The nurse ignored his question. “Now, what is your name?”

“Leo Valdez,” he answered grumpily, glaring at the nurse.

“Good. How old are you?” the woman asked then.

“8 years. But how does that have anything to do with anything? I want my mom here!”

“Calm down, Mr. Valdez. We are just doing some routine tests. You hit your head pretty badly. Now, do you remember your home address?”

Leo, despite still feeling quite dizzy, got really angry about the question. “Yes, I do, but it doesn’t matter! There’s probably nothing left of it anymore! Because it burned down!” The tears finally demanded to get out of his system as he added with a tiny voice: “And I don’t know where my mom is.”

The nurse looked very hesitant for a moment. “I, um… You know, I think we are gonna complete this test a bit later. There are some people who have been wanting to see you.” She looked towards the door restlessly.

“Is it mom?” Leo asked instantly.

The nurse just shook her head. “You’ll see soon.”

She let the visitors in and left the room, closing the door behind her. Leo found himself staring at a firefighter, who he vaguely recognized as the same one who had carried him to safety after his fall. With him entered a police officer whom Leo had not seen before. Why would a police officer want to meet him, he wondered. Maybe they’d sentence him to prison for burning the house down?

“It was an accident!” Leo blurted before the men had time to say anything, trying to look brave even though he had just cried.

“We know, we know,” the firefighter tried to calm him down. “That’s not why we are here. We wanted to see how you were doing, and, um…” he looked helplessly at his companion.

“We have some bad news,” the police officer went straight to the topic.

“Is it about the house?” Leo asked.

“No, it’s about your mother… she’s gone.”

It took Leo a moment to register what the police officer had said.

“What?” he yelled.

“I’m sorry, but she is dead.”

Leo couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He was already so panicked that denial was his only coping mechanism left. “Again, what?”

“It is true, young man,” the police officer stated matter-of-factly.

“But she can’t be! She wasn’t even home…!” Leo squeaked, trying to make sense of the situation in his blurry, shocked mind.

The firefighter spoke this time. “I’m so sorry, son… but he’s not lying. We found her in your house. The neighbor who called us had seen her go in before we arrived, and… when we got there… it was already too late.”

“But… but…” Leo had a very hard time getting any words out at that moment. “Why… why would she go in…? And… why didn’t anyone stop her?”

Again the visitors hesitated before answering. “This is just what we heard from a couple of witnesses, but… it seems like she had gone in to… look for you…”

Leo wished the sweet unconsciousness had returned to him in that moment, but that didn’t happen. Instead, it felt like something tried to pull his heart out of his chest. His mind was going through about a hundred different things at the same time: grief, anger, denial… and perhaps above everything else, guilt. It was his fault. It was his fault that the house had burned, and it was his fault that his mother had gone into the burning house. If he had been there to warn her… if she had known… But no, he had had to jump from upstairs to the backyard from where he had been harder to find. And then he had, only half conscious, dragged himself to a nearby trench where the humidity had protected him, being even harder to spot unless you happened to walk right next to it.

That meant that his mother had gone into the house thinking he was there… and she had died thinking he had died. All because he hadn’t listened to her, because he had left some papers on which he had been drawing too near the fireplace.

‘My fault. All my fault’, was all Leo could hear in his head on repeat. He noticed that the firefighter was trying to say something, but he could not register what. Leo didn’t ask him to repeat what he had said. Instead, he stuttered with a weak voice:

“You didn’t answer my other question. Why… didn’t anyone… stop her?”

The police officer sighed sadly. “From what we know, your neighbors had tried to tell her to not go in, that there was nothing she could do, but she refused to listen. The… smoke had already suffocated her by the time we arrived.”

Leo clenched his small fists, unable to focus his gaze anywhere. Everything around him was just a meaningless blur. All of a sudden, nothing mattered to him anymore. With his mother, Leo hadn’t just lost the most important person in his life, the only person who had ever really cared about him and understood him. He had lost his home, his safety, everything that he had loved. More to himself than to the men in the room, he sobbed:

“What's going to happen to me?”

And then everything went blank.

*end flashback*

…

When Leo woke up, he noticed he was breathing very sharply. He had to tell himself to slow it down a bit, trying to focus on the breathing instead of the dream he had just seen. Once he had calmed down a bit, he realized his face was soaked from the tears. The good feeling from the day before was gone, and suddenly he remembered all too well why he hated that holiday so much. His mother had died on Christmas day, 11 years ago.

The worst part about the nightmare he had just seen? It had actually happened. Sure, the details might have changed in Leo’s mind a bit because he had been so young when his mother had died, but most of it was true. The fire, the jumping, the people in the hospital, all true. When he had still been a kid, he had dared to hope that maybe someday the memories would start fading and it wouldn’t hurt so much. But now, 11 years later, he knew better. Thanks to the therapy and Jo, Emmie and the friends’ help, he did have moments when he managed to feel happy, focus on the future and forget the pain for a time being, but when it came back, it was always as intense. And it was especially bad on Christmas days, the anniversary of those horrific events.

‘Pull yourself together’, Leo told himself. ‘This is not what your mother would have wanted for you.’

‘No’, another, the evil voice in his head said. ‘But then again, if it weren’t for you, she would still be here.’

He groaned at himself and decided that it would be better to get himself up and moving rather than lay there listening to the voices. Sitting up, he combed his fingers through his messy hair in an attempt to tame it, with little success. After that, he wiped the tears from his face, trying to pretend it had never happened. Registering the voices coming from the living room, he figured some of his family members were already awake even though it was still rather early. They, especially Georgina, were lucky that they didn’t know what was going through in his head that day; it would have ruined everyone’s Christmas.

Trying to pull himself together and put on a happy face, he got up and washed his face in the bathroom quickly before joining the family. The moment he reached the bottom of the stairs, Georgina ran to him and hugged him.

“Merry Christmas, hermano!”

Leo patted her hair absentmindedly, thinking that Georgina was now only a year older than he had been when… no, he had to stop thinking about it. If not for anyone else’s sake, then Georgina’s. She deserved to have a happy day.

“Merry Christmas to you too, hermanita. Well, did Santa visit? Did he receive my memo on your behavior towards me this year?”

Georgina pulled away from him and folded his arms. “I’m not a little baby anymore; I know Santa doesn’t actually exist. But we did get presents! Even you, although I was kind of surprised about that.”

Leo clutched his shirt. “Ouch, Georgie! I thought you were on my side!”

The siblings continued bickering playfully as they waited for the others. They had a tradition in their house that everyone needed to be there for the present opening. Soon Josephine appeared with a tray full of coffee cups, gingerbread cookies and certain small pies she used to bake every Christmas.

“Where are the others?” Georgina asked impatiently as she started stuffing the cookies into her mouth and drummed her legs against the sofa. “I want to open the presents already!”

“Calm down, Georgie,” Jo scolded her. “Emmie is checking the cats and dogs because they also need care on Christmas day, and Calypso may still be sleeping.”

“Ugh, I told her I wanna start opening the presents early!” Georgina protested. “I’ll go wake her up if she isn’t here in 10 minutes!”

“You’ll wake who up?” Calypso showed up from the stairway. Hearing her voice and seeing her face, Leo forgot for a moment why he had been so upset earlier. Somehow her presence just had that weird effect on him. She was wearing a green holiday sweater knitted by Annabeth over her pajamas – pink with some small flower prints – and her hair was flying freely, slightly wavy because of the braids that Georgie had insisted on making the previous evening. Somehow even that casual look made her look adorable in his eyes and his throat felt dry for entirely different reasons than a few minutes earlier. Leo almost missed Calypso’s next words due to his distraction. “Sorry that you had to wait, Georgina. I was finishing up one last present because I wasn’t entirely happy with it.”

“No worries!” Georgina exclaimed. Apparently the last minute gift preparing was a good enough reason to be late in her books, because Leo knew that if he had been late for the gift opening, the little girl wouldn’t have forgiven that easily.

Calypso put her pile of neatly packed presents under the tree to wait and turned to the others.

“So, merry Christmas, everyone! If I am allowed to be honest with you, I don’t really know a lot about Christmas traditions… My family never celebrated it… But I want to learn!”

“We’ll teach you,” Georgina told her immediately. “It’s gonna be so much fun, you’ll see!”

Leo wished he himself could have been as enthusiastic about the holiday as Georgina was, but tried to keep the happy face on anyway.

“Cal, try some of those pies before Georgie has eaten them all.” He pointed to the tray Jo had brought. Calypso glanced at him suspiciously for a moment. “Don’t give me that look; I swear I didn’t make them. It’s all Jo and Emmie.”

“Fine,” Calypso agreed and took a bite. “This is really good!” she exclaimed once her mouth was empty.

“Told you. Now do you trust me?” Leo asked her teasingly.

“Hmmm. That’s still to be determined,” Calypso replied, but Leo could see her smile into her piece of pie.

As everyone waited for Emmie to return inside, they kept up a light banter as they ate their Christmas breakfast in the living room. Even Leo did his best to participate in it, and soon he did feel a bit better, although if someone had looked at him more closely, they would have noticed the smile on his face didn’t reach his eyes.

Finally, Emmie arrived together with Festus and Georgina instantly pulled her towards the Christmas tree so they could start the gift sharing. A grin spread across Leo’s face as well when he watched the little girl run back and forth as she delivered the packages to their rightful owners. This was now, he tried to remind himself. What happened in the past… was in the past and his mother would probably have wanted him to enjoy these moments.

Not that he’d ever know that for sure, the nasty voice in Leo’s head said again, and the grin almost disappeared from his face.

To no one’s surprise, Georgina got the most presents because even some family friends and neighbors had sent her something (that’s what happened when she got everyone wrapped around her finger, Leo thought), but everyone else got their fair share of self made gifts as well. Leo noticed that Calypso had three packages; one from him, one from Georgina who had insisted on making her own present, and one from Jo and Emmie. He found himself wishing she’d like what he had made; he had spent quite a lot of time on it.

Before anyone could start ripping their wrapping papers off the presents, Festus was given some treats so he wouldn’t interrupt the gift opening too much. Georgina got the privilege of getting to open hers first. She chuckled at Leo’s jokes in the photo album, which Leo took as a success, and squealed excitedly at the tiny dragon toy he had carved from wood and painted. Calypso had sewed her a detailed gryphon plushie, because Leo had told her that Georgina had recently gotten interested in the mythical creatures, a topic Calypso knew a lot about. The little girl hugged the plushie enthusiastically while Calypso promised her to tell her more about the Greek mythology later when they’d have more time. Emmie gave Georgie a tiny beginning of a plant that she’d get to raise on her own, and Jo, the practical person that she was, gave her a pocket knife for tinkering with a warning that she’d only get to use it under her supervision.

Leo and Calypso allowed Jo and Emmie to open their presents next. It was mostly practical stuff, like woolly socks, self made chocolate, and new tools (which broke the ‘homemade’ rule but Leo knew Jo needed them), but Leo had also tinkered frames for a photo of the Waystation family and asked Calypso to decorate it with her paints. The final result looked pretty good in his opinion.

Next was Calypso’s turn. Georgina had attempted to crochet a potholder for her because Leo had guiltily admitted that he may have accidentally ruined one of Calypso’s potholders while cooking something. However, since she was still a beginner in the handicrafts, the potholder had some room for improvement, but Leo could see from Calypso’s happy face that she appreciated the gesture. Leo had also told his mothers that Calypso really loved her flowers, so they gave her a white orchid in a pot that Jo had once crafted. Finally, she opened the gift Leo had made for her. He was biting his lip and tapping his fingers nervously even though he tried to act nonchalant as he watched Calypso’s reaction. Before she removed the paper, she knocked on the surface of the gift, trying to guess what was in it.

“Is this a tool box? So you could borrow mine when you lose yours?” She teased.

“Well, at least that would be useful, don’t you think? But hold your horses; it’s probably not what you think it is,” Leo hinted. Calypso gave him a quizzical look and Leo took that as a sign that she really had no idea what the gift was.

“I guess there’s only one way to find out,” she noted and started carefully removing the paper. Unlike Georgina, she made sure that the paper would still be usable on some later occasion. Calypso wasn’t entirely wrong with her guess; the gift was indeed a box of sorts. But it wasn’t for tools. Instead, it was a jewelry box; wooden, self made, painted rose pink, which happened to be Calypso’s favorite color. When she opened it, she noticed a small mirror on the lid with some text on it. The box also played one of those few songs that they both happened to like. Calypso traced her finger on the smooth surface of the box for a moment before she noticed that there was still something more in the box: a silvery bracelet with a letter C hanging from it. She took it into her hands and admired it for a moment before reading aloud the text that had been written on the mirror:

“You can’t start the next chapter of your life if you keep rereading the last one.”

“Um, yeah…” Leo was unsure how he should respond. Suddenly he got worried he had been too straightforward with that message, and Calypso wouldn’t appreciate it. “It was a quote, um, that I happened to stumble upon somewhere recently… But I thought it was quite fitting?”

Calypso looked at him straight into the eyes and for a moment Leo managed to forget that there were others in the room. It was as if she was trying to message him wordlessly that she understood the meaning of the quote.

“Yes, I think it works,” she replied slowly. “For both of us.”

Leo felt his ears getting heated and attempted to comb his hair over them with his fingers to not make it so painfully obvious. Given what day it was, he understood that it was ironic he was using that quote when he himself was struggling to let go from his past.

“True,” he had to admit, looking at the others nervously from the corner of his eye. “It’s… it’s something that we both should try to remember. Something we have in common, right?”

Calypso seemed to accept his explanation. “Right. Um, this box is really beautiful. You’ve seen a lot of trouble with it. The music and all… It’s really nice. Did you even make this bracelet?”

Even though Leo should have prepared himself for that question, he felt embarrassed to reveal the bracelet’s origins, afraid it might sound too sentimental. He rubbed the back of his neck and cleared his throat to get more time to consider his answer.

“The… the chain was from an old bracelet my mom had… My biological mom, I mean. I didn’t get to keep a lot of her belongings but this had survived… and my dear aunt didn’t want to keep it so I’ve been carrying it around as a charm of some sort. But the thing is, I don’t really need it so it was Jo’s suggestion that I could give it to someone who’d use it. She helped me make this,” he showed the C, “because I don’t really…”

“Want to forge anything,” Calypso finished for him. “Yeah. I understand.”

“Good. If you don’t like it, you can give it to someone else; I’m sure my mom wouldn’t mind…”

Calypso gave him an encouraging smile. “Oh, no! This bracelet meant a lot to you so it means a lot to me. It’s a really nice gesture, Leo.”

“You’re welcome?” he replied, kind of flustered by her reaction.

Calypso fiddled with the gift for a moment before turning her attention back to Leo.

“Would you like to put this on my wrist? I’d like to see how it fits.”

“Oh… alright!” Leo agreed, wishing he could say something that didn’t make him sound like a complete idiot. But then again, he reminded himself, wasn’t that what most people thought of him? And since when had he cared?

Calypso handed the bracelet to him and Leo took a very light hold of her wrist, as if afraid that he’d burn her skin with his hot fingers. He was so focused on his task that he even forgot that it was technically against the ‘rules’ they had set, but Calypso had initiated it so who was he to deny her request? He put the chain around her wrist with fumbling fingers and closed the lock. After that he allowed his hand to stay around hers a moment longer. He swiped the surface of the chain with his finger, also touching the back of her hand by accident (or maybe on purpose). Calypso looked up from their hands to him with a surprisingly soft expression that he hadn’t seen since that day when they had promised each other to try harder to be ‘just friends’. His brain sent sparks through his spine and he felt very warm all of a sudden.

“I… um… it seems to fit, doesn’t it?” he finally stuttered, looking down at the bracelet, Calypso’s gaze still lingering in his mind. He let her wrist go and already his hand felt much colder, as if it was missing something.

“Oh, yeah,” Calypso nodded, absentmindedly fiddling with the chain of the bracelet. “It’s small enough that it won’t fall but it’s not too small.”

“Good,” Leo said, a smile returning to his face. “Guess you’re just as tiny as my mom was.” He finally managed to bring out his more playful side.

“Have you looked into the mirror lately, Mister Super-Sized McShizzle? You’re not exactly a giant yourself,” Calypso teased back.

Georgina giggled at her response. “You tell him, Calie!”

“This Georgina here, though,” Leo grinned at her, “she must really have some giant blood in her. She uses my overalls in the garage sometimes!”

“I do not,” Georgina denied quickly. “They’re stinky.”

“Yeah? And you smell like flowers and rainbows,” Leo retorted and started tickling the little girl.

For a moment Leo was able to forget that he hated Christmas as he played with Georgina, but then someone reminded him that he still had to open his own presents. He looked at the pile he had gotten and thought briefly that he had gotten more of them than what he had expected. Georgina had drawn him a picture of him with Festus and sewed him a simple pencil case for his blueprint pencils. Jason and Piper had gotten him a book about weird mechanics facts. Percy had sent him a new orange t-shirt so Leo could return him the one that he had once borrowed after a workout (which, according to Percy, was ‘way too big for him anyway’). Leo’s moms had made him an awesome tool case where even the bigger tools would fit and baked some of his favorite goodies. Finally, it was the turn for Calypso’s present, though.

“What do you think it is?” Calypso asked, glancing at him curiously.

“My first guess would have been a pack of olives because you know how much I love those things… But this doesn’t feel like them. It’s mostly soft but there are some hard parts too. Maybe a bit like a backpack?"

“That wasn’t a half bad guess,” Calypso responded. “But I won’t tell you the correct answer; you can figure it out on your own.” She invited Leo to open the present.

“Okie, Sunshine, will do.”

He ripped the paper (which was Leo’s favorite shade of red) off notably less gracefully than Calypso had done with her presents, but his mouth opened involuntarily when he saw what was inside. It was a toolbelt, not looking like one of those belts that broke in his use after the first couple of days (Leo had a habit to load them too full sometimes), but sturdy, well made. Leo wondered where she had obtained the leather she had used in it, and hoped that it hadn’t cost her too much money. The belt had four different sized pockets for the tools and it seemed like one of them had something in it, but before Leo checked what was inside, he turned to Calypso:

“How did you know I needed one of these?”

“Probably because you’ve been carrying wrenches and stuff in your jean pockets and I’ve also seen your room and that’s enough for me to be able to tell you need a place for your tools,” Calypso smirked. Leo barely heard her answer. He didn’t want to admit aloud that one of the reasons why he was suddenly feeling so sentimental about a tool belt was because it reminded him a lot of the one his mom had made for him when he was a kid. “I hope this wasn’t too much trouble…” He noted more quietly than usual.

“It was not trouble at all,” Calypso reassured him. “I have sewed more difficult things. The leather was actually from one of my old bags that my dad got for me – which I hated – so I didn’t even have to buy a lot of the materials. Besides, you yourself made this,” she knocked the wooden cover of the jewelry box, “and I bet it was a lot more difficult.”

“Nah, it wasn’t…” Leo tried to protest and he noticed the others in the room had a hard time keeping their faces straight as they listened to the flatmates competing whose present had taken more time. “The music was probably the most complicated part.”

“Okay,” Calypso said, deciding to leave the debate there. “Hey, I forgot to mention that there is something small in one of the pockets. You could check it out now.”

“Alright, I will,” Leo told her. He reached out to the said pocket and found a small box from it. His smile instantly disappeared from his face when he realized what it was. Everyone went quiet for a while as they were waiting for his reaction.

“Why would you give me matches, especially today of all days?” He lifted his gaze from the box, his eyes sparkling angrily. Before anyone could say anything, he threw the box away and jumped up from his seat. Calypso’s sad face was the last thing he saw before storming out of the room.

[sinnerclair]

here. have a wip.

It was a cool morning in Norfolk, Virginia. The folks were conversing among themselves. Today was the day that the Dreamcatcher would be arriving and departing at 5pm. In his house, Charlie Taylor was talking with his mother, Betsy Taylor.  

“When you get back, make sure to help your sister Bess with the cows,” his mother said.  

Charlie nodded as he rummaged through his bag for his train ticket, eventually finding it and placing it neatly in his pocket.  

“Alright, ma. I’m leaving for Ellsworth.” He approached the front door.  

“Stay safe, dear. Northerners are nasty folk sometimes.” Betsy warned. Charlie glanced at her before leaving. 

The Norfolk train station was packed, which was unusual. Charlie squeezed through the crowd to the front. There was the Dreamcatcher, a large steam locomotive. It was quite an old model, dating back to when these machines were first being used, roughly 30 years ago. People soon began piling into the train, and Charlie soon followed suit. As he got in, he gave his ticket to the men at the doors and sat down in one of the leather seats which were damaged in some spots. The train’s horn was heard, signalling the train’s departure. Charlie kicked his legs at the metal floor as the train left the station. 

The train ride for the most part was quiet, long, and boring. Some folk talked about shopping, their children, or plans they had for when the train stopped in Maine. The train soon went into a dimly lit tunnel, the only light being the sparks that came off the wheels from the train tracks. However, the train car began to feel unusually warm. Charlie shifted uncomfortably around in his seat as he picked at the buttons of his tweed sweater. 

The heat only got worse as the train ride went on. Eventually the train’s windows went dark. Charlie coughed as the air began to fill with light smoke until an explosion went off and Charlie immediately blacked out. 

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ 

Everything was black for Charlie still. He felt disconcerted, nauseous, and dizzy. He laid on what felt like sand for a few minutes before being poked by someone. 

“Hello? Are you alive, sir?” They had an accent that seemed to originate from the Carolinas. 

He squinted to regain consciousness, staring at the person who pulled him off Death’s doorstep. It was a woman with a pastel pink Southern belle-style dress that reached to her ankles. 

“Oh! You are alive. Good to know I didn’t just poke a dead body!” She chuckled. 

Charlie got to his feet and held his head, which was pounding. His ears rang badly. 

The woman had introduced herself as Florence Ward. She was from North Carolina and also was on the Dreamcatcher before its untimely demise. While she rambled, Charlie could only worry about his mother back home. She was going to be worried sick. 

“Hello? Are you listening, Charlie?” 

“Oh, uhm, yes.” He lied. 

Florence glared at him. Charlie sighed. 

“Where even are we? Are we even in Virginia anymore?” he said. 

Florence shrugged, “I would say I knew where we were, but the only sign I found had worn out paint and I could barely read what it said.” Charlie facepalmed. 

Florence and Charlie wandered through what seemed to be an endless desert until they spotted a group of gentlemen looking around in confusion. Florence raced over to them. Charlie stumbled after her. The two men had introduced themselves as Edward Louis Gray and Claude Ellis, both from Pennsylvania. 

“Were you on the Dreamcatcher too?” Charlie inquired. They both nodded. 

“I don’t quite understand what happened. An explosion just suddenly happened. The train seemed fine.” Edward, who had a slight British accent, said. 

“I knew something was wrong the moment the train got uncomfortably warm.” Claude added. Everyone else nodded. 

“Do you at least know where we are?” Charlie desperately asked. Florence snickered at him. 

“Are you going to ask everyone that in hope to get an answer? I don’t think anyone recognizes where we are.” 

Charlie sighed, “I guess you’re right.” 

Edward eventually spoke up, “There’s nothing bad about having a look around. Let’s see if there’s any towns around.” Claude nodded in agreement as Florence pouted. Eventually, all four of them headed North in a desperate attempt to find anything in the desert wasteland they ended up in. 

- 

After almost an hour of searching, everyone was about to give up. Even Edward, who kept insisting the group keep moving despite their many protests and groans. 

“Are we even going anywhere? My feet are killing me.” Florence complained. 

Nobody responded to her as they were all equally exhausted. As if miracles existed, they began to see a sign up ahead. When they reached it, it turned out to be an entrance to a town by the name of Harpsville, with a population of forty-five. 

“Quite the small town.” Claude commented. 

“Never heard of it either.” Charlie added. 

When they entered the town, it was like they were back in Virginia again. Townsfolk were talking everywhere, kids were playing, and Charlie swore he could hear an auctioneer babbling on. Florence soon went out of sight and so did the others when Charlie realised he had slipped into a daydream while analysing the town. 

“Guys? Where did you go?” He looked around in worry. 

“Charlie! Get your butt over here before I drag you over here!” Florence was heard. 

“Hold on, jeez.” He replied as he speedwalked over to her.  

The group had wandered to the heart of Harpsville, known as the Harp. 

“Let’s try to find a mayor. Maybe they know how we got here.” Claude suggested. Everyone agreed as they looked around for some type of local mayor’s office. But, before they could move, they felt a presence. 

“What are you non-locals doing here in Harps?” Someone growled behind Charlie. They had a Southern accent that Charlie only ever heard when his mother was mad. They nervously turned around to a woman who was two times Charlie’s height, towering over them. She was clad in cowboy wear with a rifle on her back with the initials SM carved in gold on the forestock. Charlie felt himself shrink a few inches as he quickly chose to hide behind Edward, who raised an eyebrow at the woman. She merely laughed at Charlie’s cowering. 

“Don’tcha worry, partner. I ain’t going to hurt ya. Unless you give me a reason to.” She chuckled. 

“Stop scarin’ him for God’s sake!” Florence snarled. 

“I ain’t tryna scare. I’m tryna warn.” The woman replied, “Name’s Scarlett Morris. I’m the bounty hunter of Harpsville. Nice to meet y’all.” She tipped her hat at them. 

“Bounty hunter? So, you kill people for money?” Florence gasped. 

“I kill the bad people for money. It’s how I keep nonlocals like you out.” she nudged Charlie with her rifle. 

“But we didn’t even mean to be here!” Charlie protested. 

“Still, it’s my job to keep this town safe.” Scarlett said. “And she does a darn good job at it! So, I recommend you stay outta her way.” A woman nearby added. 

“So, you seem to be liked by this town. But we need to know where we are. We were just in New Hampshire a few hours ago.” Claude said, cutting into the argument. Scarlett scoffed, “Wish I could tell ya. This town’s considered in the middle of nowhere. Never really knew either.” She shrugged. 

“Are there any other towns nearby at least?” Charlie piped in. 

“Not for another three hundred miles.” Scarlett replied. Florence immediately whined. 

They eventually settled near a ranch to get food. Florence hadn’t eaten because she wished to make something with the vegetables she had bought and that she had a few caramel candies in her dress pocket to snack on. Scarlett had decided to tag along with the group to keep them safe, but Florence seemed to completely disregard her motives and stayed a fair distance from her. 

“Do you think we could find a post office? The seal could tell us where we are.” Florence suggested. Scarlett looked over and shook her head, “Our seal only says Harpsville. We aren’t an established town in Texas yet.” 

“How did we end up in Texas?” Charlie tilted his head. 

“Now that’s a question I don’t know the answer to.” 

Meanwhile in Norfolk, the news of the missing Dreamcatcher had been the talk of the town for a few hours now. The parents of the 5 missing teenagers were huddled around a nearby church. 

“The train shouldn’t be too far from the border of New Hampshire and Maine. Maybe they could look around there?” Harvey, Charlie’s father, suggested. 

“They already checked near Conway. Didn’t find anything there.” Fleur, whose son James was one of the missing, said. 

Betsy hadn’t spoken. She had a worried look on her face. Eventually, the group had a moment of silence to hope their children were alive and well. 

Charlie and Edward had decided to explore more of the town to see if any other passengers of the Dreamcatcher had ended up in Harpsville. They eventually found a man named James Silvester. 

“I thought I was the only survivor. Everyone here seemed to be as confused as I was when I explained the train, I was on exploded to smithereens.” 

“We thought too. This place looked desolate until we found this town. I don’t quite understand how we ended up in Texas out of everywhere.” 

“We’re in Texas? How did we end up going South?” James seemed dumbfounded. 

Edward shrugged. They brought James to Florence and Claude who were quite happy to know there were other survivors of the possible derailing of the Dreamcatcher. The group noticed it was getting dark, so they looked around for somewhere to stay, eventually settling on an inn named Sunrise. Claude and Edward fell asleep quickly. Florence had gone back outside to see if she could buy more candy despite the late hour. 

Charlie was up trying to think of ways the train could’ve ended up in Texas, but alas he came up short. He decided to go to bed once Florence had come back inside. 

Meanwhile, while Florence was outside, she had noticed someone. It was a woman in her mid-twenties walking around the Harp as if she was confused. Florence stared in confusion as well, wondering why someone was out here at such a late hour. She walked over to the Harp, only for the person to disappear into the saloon. She stopped and shrugged, turning and walking back to the inn. Maybe they were just getting a late-night drink. 

In the morning, they were awakened by Scarlett firing a ‘morning shot’ as she called it to wake them up. They groggily walked outside to meet Scarlett, who was grinning at them. Florence, grumpy as ever due to being tired, glared at her. Scarlett chuckled at this. 

“Why do you need us this early?” Charlie yawned. 

“Because y’all ain’t living here if you’re going to be walking around in the middle of the night and goin’ to the saloon. Aren’t y’all like seventeen?” Scarlett scowled. 

“No one went outside but Florence, though.” Charlie said. 

“That wasn’t me either! It was some woman! I saw her.” Florence retorted. 

Scarlett raised an eyebrow before walking up to Florence, “What did this woman look like, exactly?” she asked with a low tone, as if accusing Florence of being the individual. 

“I couldn’t see her due to the darkness, but she was wearing a dress. White, and like mine.” 

“I’ll investigate it tonight. You five can go explore, or somethin’. I don’t know what you non-locals do.” Scarlett said before walking off. 

[stardustskz]

Smile, For it Suits You

Title: Smile, for it suits you

Word count: 3.1k

Genre: best friends au, fluff, holiday au

Warnings: alcohol, drinking, sickness, typo errors (lmk of there are more)

Member: jeongin

Description: the four times Yang Jeongin ruined your new year’s and the one time you ruined his’

Notes: dedicated to @jeonginks for @districtninewriters ‘s winter exchange fic. first of all, i’m so sorry for it’s late. i was wondering on whether posting it on new year’s eve or on the morning of january 1st but thought of doing the latter. happy holidays eiko! i hope you had a blast holiday and i hope that you’ll like this one, i tried putting as much into it! 

ps. i forgot if there are any word count limit, i’m so sorry if there are

pps. i’m so b=nervous posting this idk why

i.

There’s this superstitious belief that has been going on every January 1st and you neither disagree or agree with it. Okay, scratch that… you are sensitive about it. Ever since your grandmother told your eight year old mind about it, you always made sure to make your first days of every year perfect. 

The following year, you were cautious of your entire January 1st as your parents took you out to the local theme park to celebrate the new year. The day went well with the self reminders that your young mind whispers every time you were about to lose your composure due to the small things that irk you. You went to every extreme ride that you like– perks of having the height to fool the staff for your age. You even won plushies multiple times from the crane machine and the huge human-sized bear that your father got you as a prize in that one fishing game. 

Night time was fast approaching when you decided to have an ice cream without your parents' assistance. Because you were in the age of bragging about how independent you've become seeing to it that you’ll be adding a number to your age in the following months. It was successful! You bought your chocolate coated vanilla ice cream after telling the vendor to have a happy new year. You’re on your way back to where your parents sat on a bench when you saw a boy running fast towards your direction. Your first instinct was to move away from his pathway but it seems that your mind and body forgot how to process your intentions as you fell on your butt, causing your ice cream to fall on the ground as well as stain the lower part of your favorite jacket.  

"Hey!" you called out to the boy who was now about a meter away from you. Your calm and optimism for that day gone. Because he didn’t even apologize or bother to stop from his tracks. 

The boy came to a halt from his frantic running, turned around, and yelled back,

"I'm sorry! But I'm really in a hurry!" he then looked at you apologetically then continued running to god knows where. And oh boy, you were so annoyed as he turned out to be Yang Jeongin from your class. Your everyone-loves-and-adores-him classmate. Everyone falls for his stupid cheeky smile and almost everyone in your class has a huge crush on him. Which is you think, stupid, you were all in fourth grade, how does one know who to like? After that incident your day went sliding downwards, from getting scolded by your parents for ruining your white shirt to losing your favorite hanky from riding the Vikings and you only have one person to blame and it was and still is, Yang Jeongin.

ii.

Quite opposite from your dislike towards Yang Jeongin, you gained the ‘honor’ to be his best friend during 7th grade. It just… happened. When Han Jisung decided to be a dear who made you audition, forcefully, for your school’s theatre club, it so happened that Jeongin was a part of it too. 

Now, during your junior year in high school, you were currently in one of your senior Minho’s parties before the new year. You were in the middle of talking to Jisung and Jeongin when you felt your surroundings started to spin, 

"Hey, I'll just use the bathroom for a bit" you said, excusing yourself from all the talking. You don’t have a clue why you’re feeling nauseous when you only had a cup or two of what seems to be a soda, well, it tastes like it.

"You okay?" Jeongin asked, his tone laced with concern.

"Yeah, I'm fine" you replied, starting your way to where the comfort room was. It was when you started throwing out all the contents of your stomach when you felt a hand on your back, patting it in a calming manner while their other hand puts away the stray strands of your hair from your face. 

"Is this what you call fine? I thought you won’t drink tonight?" he jokingly said, chuckling a bit by your earlier tough act.

"Well, yeah I also thought I wouldn’t." you rolled your eyes at him through the mirror by the sink after you gargled with water. Maybe it wasn’t just a soda after all. You glanced at the door, furrowing your brows when you noticed that it was closed. 

"You closed the door?" you asked him.

"Yeah? I did?" he said innocently.

"There's a reason I left it open dumbass" you said, trying to call out for help but of course people wouldn't hear you due to the loud, obnoxious music blasting by the speakers in the living room, you even heard people shouting. 

"Oh… I didn't see the sign?" Jeongin said, a bit unsure of himself. Truthfully, he doesn't remember seeing it but he may have forgotten that Jisung told him something about not closing a door because the lock was not working well. Maybe this is the door he was talking about. Jeongin pondered.

It was dreadfully silent, but it was a comfortable one, with you frustrated of how the fuck are you both gonna get out before the countdown. You left your purse with Jisung containing both your phones. There’s no way you’ll be able to get out unless Jisung remembers the absence of your presence and he probably won’t do that until after the countdown. Because Jisung tends to get overly excited about fireworks that he’ll forget that you and Jeongin aren’t back yet.

"5 minutes until the countdown, are we really spending our new year here?" you asked, a bit sad to miss the fireworks display and spend your first minutes of the new year inside a bathroom. What a way to start the year.

"I’m sorry, we’re stuck here" Jeongin said, cautious of whether you’re mad or not. You went closer to where Jeongin sat inside the bathtub, planning to sit beside him.

“I’m not mad, just… annoyed?” You said, sitting beside him and laying your head on his shoulder, maybe it was the alcohol or how comfortable you were around your best friend but you soon drifted to a deep slumber after hearing the fireworks explode outside, remembering to greet Jeongin a “Happy New Year, Jeongin” before completely shutting down.

And if Jisung said something about you getting locked last year in Minho's bathroom and only managing to get out the following year, as if it’s a good joke, you definitely punched him for it.

iii.

The news of Jeongin and his family moving to your neighborhood the following year surprised you. Of course you were ecstatic about it, even more when you saw their moving truck beside your house. You were about to be neighbors! Ever since then, you’ve been spending most of your time with Jeongin, more than what you both used to, your moms also got a lot closer. Which is why they decided to celebrate New Year’s Eve with both families. 

A few hours before the countdown, you decided to hide away in your room, deciding to sleep before the clock strikes 12 because you sure are exhausted by all the preparations. You were lying in your bed with your feet dangling at the bottom, the happenings from earlier that day flashing in your mind. You heard the door to your room opened but you didn’t even bother to look at who it is. 

“Everyone’s looking for you” Jeongin’s familiar voice said. He went closer to your figure only to see that you have your eyes closed, he thought that you’re already asleep,

“I’m tired, let me sleep for a while.” you said, eyes still closed. You tapped the space beside you signaling for him to sit there if he wants. However, Jeongin chose to lie down beside you. And you never opposed it. 

“Wake me up before the countdown.” you said, tiredness completely settling in your system, the hazy figures in your mind beginning to be more vivid as your dream completely took over your consciousness.

Jeongin rolled his eyes at your command, but he will anyway. Turning on his side, his sharp looking gaze softened as his eyes landed on you. He carefully watched how your eyes are now closed, with your lashes curled adorably. You look like an angel whenever you’re sleeping. You were never this peaceful looking when you’re awake because you're the type to furrow your brows more than smile on a daily basis. But right now, your brows are not furrowed even in the slightest bit and the corners of your lips are lightly pointing upwards, a sign that maybe, you’re having a good dream. It continued like this when Jeongin realized that he’s also falling asleep, and even falling harder, as he kissed the night with a goodbye as well.

You both completely missed the countdown but it wasn’t like you were mad about it. When you woke up the next morning, with your best friend still beside you, you figured it was a shame to not witness the fireworks display for two years in a row but you had a great time with finally sleeping for more than eight hours. 

Despite that, yes, you still blame Jeongin.

iv.

It was the first time that you’ll be spending your new year in a different place than your own home. You were already in your third year in college and your group of friends decided to spend your new year at a vacation house near the provinces of your country. Of course, your parents only allowed you to go if Jeongin would be there and thank god you both are in the same circle of friends. 

The original plan was to go together as a group and ride Chan’s van all throughout your three day escapade. However, you have to attend a family gathering in the morning of December 31st, which was the reason why you were left with Jeongin and his truck. You had everything prepared, from the music for the road trip to the snacks that you two bought from your shopping two days prior. And the only thing left is the long journey. Your friends already arrived at the destination by the time you and Jeongin left your place. You were both jamming to different genres of songs, with you feeding Jeongin a chip or two from time to time,

“You can sleep, you know, we still have a long way.” Jeongin said, glancing at you as you yawn from the passenger’s seat. 

“No, no. I can’t leave you for yourself. You can also get sleepy anytime soon.” You said, cautious of possible incidents that may occur. 

“Suit yourself y/n” He said, as you blasted an even livelier song on his radio. 

You were both listening to ‘Wannabe’ with Jeongin doing the shoulder dance and his eyes almost disappearing due to all the smiling and singing when the car slowed down in a not so good manner, as you think.

“What’s happening?” you asked him, maybe panicking for a bit because you were both currently in the middle of nowhere and the sun was already setting. 

“I don’t exactly know,” Jeongin said, his bright smile no longer visible as he stared down on the steering wheel, wondering what the fuck is wrong with his truck. 

“It won’t start.” he said, after a few attempts of once again turning on the car’s engine.

“I should go find help somewhere nearby.” you said, because clearly, your phone’s signal isn’t working as well. 

“No, we should go together, it’s dangerous,” he said preparing to get off the car as well

“Help me push the car to the side of the road first.” he added, then you both worked on it. 

After grabbing all your important belongings, you both started walking forward, continuing the path of the road in hopes of seeing a gas station or an apparel or something.

“I feel like I brought upon misfortune with you whenever we celebrate the new year together.” Jeongin said, probably blaming himself for what just happened.

“It’s not like we can control everything that’s happening around us.” you replied, looking at Jeongin’s sullen expression. 

“Hey! Don’t frown, you look like someone who’ll eat me up alive” you told him. Well, he’s not particularly frowning but Jeongin’s scary whenever he’s not smiling. You noticed the sky slowly get dark and you managed to get sight of something bright at the road ahead.

“Still, I’m sorry this happened, y/n.” he said, coming to a stop only to lock his gaze on yours to sincerely apologize. 

“Stop apologizing dumbass, look I can see something ahead.” you said, mirroring his gaze and smiling as brightly as you can. Jeongin has been your support ever since you two have been attached to the hip. His bright personality is so much of a contrast to your snarly, hostile and strong attitude. And he brightens up your day almost everyday even though he can also annoy the hell out of you. But still, you can’t bring yourself to hate or get mad at him. Because a single smile from Jeongin, all your irritations and annoyance will surely melt away. It just does. The moment Jeongin smiled at you, with his cheeky grin that managed to show his dimples, as a reply, and nodded in agreement and determination, to walk towards where you were pointing out, all your worries for that night went away. Together with your belief that all new years are supposed to be spent in a perfect manner. Because this time, although you spent your new year by the parking lot of the gas station that you both found, you don’t blame Jeongin for all the things that went wrong in that specific year. And at the very least, you get to spend it with the person you cherish the most.

v.

“Why did you decide to spend your January 1st with me dumbass” you asked him, as you opened the door to your dorm, thanking your roommate who went home for the holidays. 

“Well, my also, ‘dumbass’ best friend stayed at the dorms for the holidays and worked themselves up because of finals and now they can’t go home due to a very high fever.” he rambled. You finally let him in because you can already feel your limbs giving up on you. 

“Look! You can’t even stand up on your own!” Jeongin scolded, wrapping his arm around you while he escorted you back to your bedroom. He managed to tuck you in your bed and placed a cooling pad on your forehead before he quickly left for the kitchen, without saying a word. Minutes later, he came back with a bowl of porridge in between his hands.

“You can cook?” you teased.

“Eat.” he said, his expression was serious so you had no choice than to immediately oblige on his command, yes, he was mad and you are kinda scared of this type of Jeongin. You quickly finished it and took the medicine that he gave.

“Do you not have any other plans today?” you asked him, your voice almost a whisper.

“Someone ruined my original plans for me.” he said with his tone a bit more harsh than usual. 

“If that someone was me then I don’t need you here.” you said, irritated by his tone, you turned around to face the other side of your bed in order to avoid seeing him. Jeongin must have figured out that you’re mad at him, due to the change of your tone. He took a deep sigh,

“It’s not like that,” he started.

“I already warned you a week ago about overworking yourself and look where it brought you!” he said, his voice now more calm than before,

“And check your phone please.” he added. Your phone? You haven’t checked your phone since last night due to this stupid fever and apparently- Oh. There are multiple calls and texts from him. 

“I asked auntie regarding your whereabouts and I knew from her that you’re down with fever because I thought you went home yesterday morning, to make it in time for new year’s eve.” Jeongin said, you turned around again with your guilt forming because you forgot to tell him.

“I was worried, y/n. I prepared something for you last night, we were supposed to-” you cut him off,

“I’m sorry, I forgot to tell you,” you said, trying to find his gaze,

“Are you mad?” you asked, taking his hand that was resting on his sides.

“N-no, I’m not. I just-” he took another sigh, “I was just so worried, we can continue whatever road trip I prepared for us anytime this year just please don’t disappear on me again.” he said, more like, begged as he held your hand between his’. 

“Okay,” you said, reaching out to ruffle his hair.

“I won’t do it again, now please smile?” you asked, hoping for him to please just smile again.

Because did he just see you act cute in front of him? Apparently, yes.

“Oh my god okay!” he said and laughed out loud.

“Don’t do that again, this is why I’m the cute one between us!” he said, holding his abdomen for his dear life from laughing too much. You frowned. But this is better. 

“I’m sorry for ruining your first day of the year.” you said, because he wouldn’t be able to go out as he chose to take care of you.

“It’s fine, I intended to spend it with you in the first place” he said, still recovering from the good laugh that he just experienced.

“Wait, so you’re supposed to take me to star gazing?!” you asked, your eyes widening in surprise.

“Yeah? I’m sure my truck won’t fail me this time but you did.” he said, you’ve been bothering him about this request of yours since last year due to his car ruining new year for the both of you. 

“Hey! You already forgave me for that!” Jeongin only laughed and told you to go rest and sleep already. At first, you refused to, but you remembered that you’re still down with a fever and your body gave up on you already. But that day, you fell asleep with a smile on your face. All these time, from the previous years that you had until now, you were searching for perfection for all your first days of the year. However what or rather, who you really need is someone that would stay with you no matter how much misfortune you get. And gladly, you have a dumbass of a best friend for that. 

[diazevan]

Tony Stark's Guide to Keeping Peter Parker Alive: #9 Don’t leave him in a room alone with Steve Rogers.

Tony squeezed Peter’s arm, trying to calm the situation, “It was an accident, Pete.”

“Yeah.” Peter spoke through gritted teeth, he turned his head to look Steve, in the eye, “You cause a lot of accidents, don’t you, Captain?”

AO3 Link

_____

“Tony, I promise I didn’t see you!”

Steve sprinted around the communal lounge, throwing the cabinet doors open looking for one of their emergency first aid kits.

His face was a new shade of red, and Tony was sure, the old man had forgotten how to blink.

“Seriously—” Steve got onto his knees, pushing boxes aside to look around, “I didn’t—I was away with the fairies, that’s what my mum always used to say.” His voice went hilariously high pitched; he attempted to clear his throat, with a cough.

Tony would have laughed, if he wasn’t trying to ignore the blistering pain, in his newly dislocated shoulder.

Steve kept rambling, “I’m sorry, I wouldn’t have—"

Tony groaned as loud as he could over Steve’s whining, “Rogers, if you don’t shut up, I’m gonna push you down a flight of stairs!”

Steve’s cheeks drained of color, “Okay, okay…” He breathed, “I can—”

The tale was quite funny when Tony thought about it. He couldn’t wait to watch the footage back.

Steve found out about AirPods – eight years late, of course, he was infamous for being fashionably late for things.

The problem was, he wasn’t on high alert where he was wearing them, he got lost in the music.

Poetic, yes, but it was something Tony paid the price for.

While Steve was walking around, mindlessly dancing to the greatest hits of the 1930s; Tony was making his way downstairs, to find a vending machine, to collect snacks for him and Peter. He’d decided to walk, instead of using the elevator. With the wisdom of hindsight, he should have gone with the latter option.

The rest was self-explanatory; Steve accidentally knocked into his back, and Tony toppled down, two flights of stairs.

“From now on…” Tony pinched his cheek, with his prosthetic hand, “You can listen to music the old-fashioned way.”

“Yeah—"

“Scratch that.” Tony yelped, shaking his head, “You can have some of the StarkBuds. We launched months before they did!” He pointed out, “I can’t believe you dared bring Apple Tech into here, under my roof, it’s blasphemy.”

Steve bopped his head, “Got it.”

“Sacrilege.” Tony hissed, “I bet they were brainwashing you.” He blinked, to clear his vision, “Which is why you pushed me down the stairs.”

“I didn’t-“

Tony interrupted, “A lousy assassination attempt.”

Steve stood up, resting his hands on his sides, “Friday, can you get Helen Cho down here?”

“What—” Tony’s eyes flew open, “Why?”

“Because you’re slurring your speech.”

Tony breathed, “Am I?”

“Yeah.” He paced over, “And I can’t find a first aid box.”

“There’s probably not one in here.” Tony mumbled, “We’ve—we’ve only just opened this place.”

The Headquarters was rebuilt after Thanos’ destroyed it. It only took a year. It had risen, like a phoenix out of the ashes.

“I know.”

Soft footsteps coming into the room caught Tony's attention. He knew that walking pattern, like the back of his hand, he didn’t even need to look up, “Peter?”

“Tony?” Peter’s voice was laced with confusion and panic, he rushed over, blatantly ignoring Steve, “What happened?!”

Tony gave a dismissive wave of his hand, “I’m fine.”

Steve stood straight, “It’s my fault, son.”

Peter turned his head, narrowing his eyes, “It is?”

“He didn’t do it on purpose, kiddo.” Tony cut in, resting a hand on Peter’s arm, “He-he didn’t see me, or—hear me.” He laughed, “Away with the fairies, wasn’t it, Rogers?”

“Yeah.”

Peter didn't laugh, “What happened?”

Tony answered, “Flight of stairs—"

Peter exploded, his face burning red, “You pushed him down the stairs?”

Steve took one step back, “I didn’t—"

Tony squeezed Peter’s arm, trying to calm the situation, “It was an accident, Pete.”

“Yeah.” Peter spoke through gritted teeth,  he turned his head to look Steve, in the eye, “You cause a lot of accidents, don’t you, Captain?”

“Jesus.” Tony hid his eyes behind his hand, “You’ve obviously spent way too much time with Rhodey, kiddo.” He stuttered, “Pre—Pre Thanos, he’s not as—Angry as he…used to be at-everything.”

Peter steadied his hand against Tony’s prosthetic arm, “Fri, where’s Cho?”

“She’s on her way, with Master Rhodes.”

Steve asked, “ETA?”

“Five minutes.”

Peter knelt on the floor, “What hurts?”

“I think I dislocated my shoulder.”

“And?”

“I might have a concussion.”

Peter snorted a laugh, “Might.”

Steve swayed closer.

Peter’s expression hardened, “You can go.”

Steve’s face dropped, he almost looked wounded, “No, I wanna wait.”

Peter snapped, “Don’t you think you’ve done enough?”

“Peter.” Tony used his best ‘dad’ voice, but it was hard, with the blistering pain, and all the black dots blocking his eyesight, “Stop this, it’s ridiculous.”

“Sorry, Tony.” Peter ducked his head, “But you’ve had eight years to forgive him, I’ve barely had three.”

“I know—but it’s civil, kiddo.” Tony pointed out, “There’s not bad blood between us.”

Peter erupted, “That’s because you let people walk all over you!”

Tony gasped, “Wow.”

Peter never sounded like himself when he was angry, especially around Steve. Peter was innocent and gentle, the majority of the time, but he could be rather scary when he was up against somebody he didn’t trust.

There was a reason, Tony never wanted them to be left alone in a room together.

In Peter’s eyes, Steve was the guy who beat Tony up and left him for dead. That was Rhodey’s version of the events, obviously, but Tony couldn’t deny that there were certain accuracies.

Peter watched his Uncle Ben die, and then he chased down the guy who did it; he was faced with the opportunity to kill him.

He was a fourteen, at the time, burdened with immense power, but thankfully, he had a moral compass. He could have easily done it, but he didn’t. It must have taken more than willpower, but he webbed that guy up and left him for the cops to deal with.

Perhaps, the memory of that day was too heavy to bear.

Tony grabbed Peter’s low hanging wrist, “I know it feels like that, but Rogers and I, we—we spoke it out.”

Peter snapped, “I know.”

Tony felt a twinge of pain, travel down the back of his head. He hunched over, attempting to breathe through it.

“Tony—” Peter panicked, “You okay?”

“I’m fine.” Tony looked up, “Just—”

He couldn’t stop his eyelids from growing heavier.

Steve reached out.

Peter spat, “Don’t touch him!”

“Peter.” Tony cried out, “Don’t fight—”

“Cho and Rhodey are gonna be here soon.” Peter supported Tony’s weight, without interfering with his dislocated shoulder, “You’ll be okay.”

“Stay…” Tony mumbled, trying to keep his eyes open, “Stay where I can see you.”

Peter offered him a weak smile, “You got it.”

Steve’s hand rested against Tony’s back, and Tony knew exactly where this action would lead.

Peter barked, “Go away!”

“Son, I’m trying—"

“Stop calling me that!"

Tony’s throat cracked, “Peter—"

Peter snarled, ignoring Tony’s pleas to stop, “You did this.”

Steve muttered, “I know.”

Peter’s anger had gripped on tight and wasn’t letting him go, “He’s still got scars from the last time you hurt him, he doesn't need anymore!"

Tony whined, desperately fighting for his kid, but this time, he couldn’t speak.

Tony took Peter’s hand, trying to pull him back.

Part of him wished that Steve would leave, but he was trying to make amends for Siberia, by staying.

Steve stood his ground, “I’m trying to help.”

“It doesn’t feel like it.” Peter kept a strong hand on Tony, “All you have ever done is hurt him. You never notice him, unless he’s done something that inconveniences you!”

“I just—"

Peter cried, “Shut up!”

Tony couldn’t hold onto consciousness any longer.

“Tony!”

__________

Tony woke with a jolt, he was sitting upright in a hospital bed.

The room was spinning.

“Hey, hey—” Rhodey jumped up, gently pushing Tony back down, “It’s okay.”

Tony blinked, and everything stood still, “Honeybear?”

“The one and only.” Rhodey winked, “Take it slow. They’ve only just reset your shoulder.”

“Hm.” Tony bit his lip, “Feels like it.”

“You’re well on the road to recovery.”

“Nice.” Tony hummed, “Where’s—Where’s Peter?”

Rhodey widened his eyes, “About that—"

Tony yelped, “Rhodey?”

Rhodey stepped over, “He’s right here.”

Peter was curled up, on the couch in the corner, hooked up to an oxygen concentrator.

“What—” Tony’s world started shifting off its axis again, “What the hell happened?!”

“I had to sedate him.”

“You had to sedate him?!”

“Yeah, with the supersoldier stuff.” Rhodey sighed, “Cho just wanted to keep an eye on him since it’s never been used on him before.”

“What—” Tony shook his head, “Why did you have to sedate him?”

“Because he was feral, Tony.” Rhodey’s face dropped, “I’ve never seen him like it. He couldn’t be reasoned with.” He gave a half-shrug, “We were worried he’d end up breaking down into an anxiety attack. Sedating him seemed the best bet.”

Tony pressed his hand against his face, “God.”

“He’s got some internalized anger.” Rhodey raised an eyebrow, “Against Steve Rogers apparently...."

Tony brought his hand down, "Hm." His eyes traveled over to Peter again, "Damn it-"

"Damn it?"

"I don't know." Tony let go of a slow breath, "I don't think he's got a vendetta against Rogers, I just think he's putting him in the same place as somebody else, that he can't reach."

Rhodey rested a hand on his hip, "Who?"

“Dennis Carradine.”

Rhodey crossed his arms, “He's the guy who killed Pete's Uncle?”

“Yeah.” Tony softened his voice, to a whisper, “Peter came face-to-face with him, could have killed him, right there and then, but he didn’t.”

“Of course, he didn’t.” Rhodey said unsurprised, “Kid’s an innocent as they come.”

“I think the thought crossed his mind though.” Tony theorized, “And that’s what scares him. Knowing that he could have killed that guy.”

“And....” Rhodey darted his eyes to Peter, “He sees Carradine in Rogers?”

“Carradine killed Ben.” Tony pointed out, “And Rogers…”

“Almost killed you?”

“He didn’t—"

“—The medical records would say different.”

Tony cut in, “I forgave him.”

“I know, but Peter hasn’t.” Rhodey's mouth twitched into a smile, “Tony, you’re his dad now, you know?”

“Yeah.”

“His parents and his uncle died in unexpected circumstances.” Rhodey said quietly, “Before their time, and you’ve almost died, three times since he became part of your life. That’s a lot on his shoulders. He doesn’t wanna lose you.” He held up his hand, “Get it in your head, that he wants to keep you safe, as much as you want to protect him..."

"I get that.." 

“Oh, and you should see the state that Rogers is in.” He barked a laugh, “I think the kid scared the shit out of him.”

“Ha.” He looked to Peter, and then back to Rhodey, “Can you get me some water please?”

“A please?” Rhodey stepped back, going for the door, “That concussion has done a number on you.”

“Thank you!”

Rhodey muttered his surprise under his breath, as he left the room.

Tony leaned to his side, “Hey, kid.”

Peter didn’t shift, but Tony knew it was an act.

“Peter—”

Still nothing.

Tony nagged, “Spidey, kid, Pete, Underoos, Peter, kiddo—"

Peter rolled his head away, “I’m sleeping.”

“You seem to have forgotten that I know you.”

Peter sat up, brushing his hair out of his face, “Yeah.” He carefully pulled out the nasal cannula, "You do." 

“Kid—"

Peter jumped up onto his feet, “I’m fine.”

“Those sedatives are something else—"

Peter nodded slowly, “They are.”

Tony lifted up the bed, with the controller, until his back was straight, “Come here.” He shuffled over, ignoring the stinging sensation in his shoulder.

Peter waddled over and sat beside him.

Tony wrapped his prosthetic arm around his back.

Peter hung his head, “Sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize.” Tony said, “I get it.”

“I don’t hate Rogers.”

“I know-“

“Guess, I’m just…” Peter shrugged, “I wasn’t around when you forgave him.”

“It might take some time for you two, to get along, but I’d like you to.” Tony grinned, “Especially if you’re gonna be fighting together.”

Peter frowned, “I thought he retired?”

“Yeah, so have I.” He snickered, “I think an Avenger retiring is the same as an everyday person going on vacation.”

“I guess.”

Tony bobbed Peter’s nose, “You’re allowed to be angry, kiddo.” He reassured him, “But it shouldn’t have to build up…”

“You were right about Carradine.” Peter admitted, “I thought about killing him, but I could never.” He hesitated, “I’m angry that I ever thought about doing it. I wish I’d shouted at him, let him know that he ruined my life. All I did was web him up and swing away.” He sniffled, “I guess…Rogers is—"

“Somebody, to shout at?”

“He hurt you.” Peter’s voice cracked, “It’s the closest I’m ever gonna get, but Rogers isn’t Carradine. He’s a good man. He has made mistakes, but he’s trying to be better.”

"Kiddo." He combed a hand through Peter's curls, "If you ever wanna talk about Carradine or anything, I'm here, you know?"

"Yeah..." Peter rested his head against Tony’s chest, “I know."  

__________

Thank you @superherotiger, @sheabeeprime and @afangirlingbisexual - for asking me to do this prompt, I enjoyed writing some BAMF Peter.

[zerotoxicdragon]

Decide doing Translation this fanfic from ao3

https://href.li/?https://archiveofourown.org/works/30040782

Some are mistake because google translation can be wrong…

False proposals remain proposals

— Grrr... That fucking KID! I swear next time I'm gonna put my hands on him and finally put him behind bars!

The few policemen who made the bad decision to accompany Inspector Nakamori on his way out to the bar had no choice but to increasingly seclude themselves in their seats in the face of the shouts of their superior. The only person present who seemed unfazed by the din of the man was nothing more or less than the one who organized this small event: the private detective himself Kogoro Mouri, who under the pretext of "it's your birthday" could convince the inspector and some poor devils of the squad to accompany him to one of his favorite bars in the city. Rather the only one who did not need to be convinced was Nakamori. The poor man was so stressed that he had not caught the famous thief in his last robbery two days ago that at the first moment he was offered a jug of alcohol he had already halved it.

- Sure, sure! the culprit interrupted him from his meeting, passing his arm through the neck of the birthday boy. You can worry about that thief another day, tonight is a night to drink!

While the only thing Kogoro was most likely looking for was a mate to get drunk, the officers said the peers couldn't help but think there was something more hidden beneath that "working friends" facade. The detective did not bother to respect the inspector's personal space, not only hugging him with one arm but also giving soft touches whenever he recounted something or a light jolt when the man appeared to stop responding briefly. For someone like Nakamori who considered their space very important... this acting just left them dumbfounded.

Now that you thought about it, haven't you been acting a little close lately?

"Ah, Kogoro..." Nakamori spoke, drunk enough not to remember his companion's last name but sober enough to remember

The detective just mumbled a weak "huh?" before looking at his watch on his wrist. He had to blink a couple of times to stop seeing cloudy and concentrate on the device needles, 1 PM? No, that was-

"One in the morning?" exclaimed suddenly, the adrenaline rush getting him a little drunk. Ran's gonna kill me if I come back so late!

Ran...? the inspector mumbled in confusion before connecting the pieces. Ran was his daughter. He also had a daughter who was probably waiting for him at home. Damn it, Aoko's probably in a rage...

The young cops just felt sorry for them. Like the young people they were, they could still stay at the bar for an extra hour. They did not want to go home, otherwise they would have offered to accompany either man to their homes.

"I'd better take a taxi," Kogoro quickly took his things and prepared to leave, before being stopped by Nakamori.

— Ah, Kogoro, we have to go in the same direction, do you think we could share that taxi?

"I don't see why not," he nodded. Let's go have one on the street, Ginzo.

The officers watched as the two men marched in step, Kogoro again playing his inspector by guiding him with one hand on his back.

Between the three of them looked at each other.

"Hey, don't you think...

— ...it will be possible...

— ...that remotely...

— ...Our inspector and Sleeping Kogoro are dating?

No one at the station seemed surprised to see Nakamori holed up in his office dealing with a powerful hangover. From the moment he entered the building with a face indicating that he was more eager to stay in his bed sleeping than to listen to the complaints of his superior, there was no person in the precinct who wanted to approach because of the fear of irritating him.

A small group of officers had gathered just outside his office, whispering to each other what appeared to be the latest new news from the precinct. The superintendent of Shintaro Chaki, well known for being almost always in a bad mood, was already fed up with his subordinates spending more time chatting like old gossips than concentrating on their daily chores; so he took the opportunity to appear behind the group to repress them.

— What is happening here? asked, very upset about the situation.

"Ah, superintendent! exclaimed the quartet of police among surprised and scared. We were just sharing the news with everyone.

— News? What news?

- You don't know? Inspector Nakamori and Sleeping Kogoro are dating! They are so close that they are even called by their names without honorees.

Of all the gossip I could have heard, the fact that Nakamori had gotten a new partner after so many years was really down the list.

"Oh, oh, oh, my head..."

Inside the Mouri detective agency, Conan watched something amusing as Kogoro bemoaned his hangover lying on his desk. The poor man found himself half-disheveled and with his suit badly worn and wrinkled, he was still wearing the same one from the night before.

"You're an amazing dad." Ran was still quarreling with his father, just as he had barely managed to set foot inside the house. First you're going to drink leaving us alone with Inspector Megure, then I stay up late waiting for you to come back and finally you decide to come back almost noon without even leaving a message on the phone or answering machine!

Yes, Kogoro loved his daughter very much, but the only thing he didn't need at the time was someone yelling at him in the ear at full volume.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she murmured as she massaged her temple. But I told you I don't remember anything from last night! I woke up an hour ago at a motel and I came straight here... I think my self yesterday was drunk enough not to remember where he lived and decided to sleep on the road.

The truth is that waking up there was a rather strange event. Few, very few, were the times when Kogoro did not remember how he had come home after having taken until he almost lost consciousness, but even on those occasions he always dawned in his comfortable bed. That's why it was so rare to have woken up in a motel relatively far from the agency, completely naked and also on the floor for having fallen out of a double bed. Worst of all, his body hurt. Moving, walking, anything was uncomfortable. And even if he was in his forties, there was no reason why Kogoro should feel sore after he had taken it.

"When I went to the front desk trying to pay for the room, the employee told me that I had nothing to worry about, that everything was paid for," she sighed. I wonder if anyone decided to guide me to a motel because he couldn't remember my address... he even bothered to fix everything.

Ran went on to berate his father, who simply tried to sink deeper and deeper into his desk to avoid feeling how every word drilled into his head. He almost breathed a sigh of relief when the agency's phone rang and, even if he was not in a position to take any cases, he immediately attended to escape even if it was an instant from his daughter.

— Detective Bureau Mouri, how can I help?

— Mouri-kun! a lively voice answered from the other side. I thought we were friends! I can't believe you didn't tell me something like this.

- Huh? answered in confusion. What the hell was Megure talking about? What was I supposed to tell you?

- Don't play dumb! -Inspector Megure's shout was so loud that even Ran and Conan across the room were able to hear it. How do you think I felt when I found out that one of my closest friends had started dating someone and he wasn't the one who told me?!

For one, two, three seconds.

"HUH?"

Ran had taken Conan to primary school and she was attending her own classes, so Kogoro was now alone at the agency. In theory he was to find himself alone, because in front of him, with his arms crossed and his frown frowned upon, a very annoying Ginzo Nakamori walked from side to side as if going from wall to wall would provide the solution to the problem in which they were.

"Then..." Kogoro began, making Nakamori stop for a moment to pay attention. Everyone in the police force believes that for some reason we are a couple.

"For any reason?" As I heard in the precinct, you couldn't keep your hands still! cried the inspector. Now my superior, Superintendent Chaki, wants me to take my "new partner" to lunch with him and his wife this Sunday!

Mouri snuck into his seat, looking to hide as much as possible from the elder's screams.

- W-but- why did you accept his invitation?

"I had a terrible hangover thanks to your departure last night! I could hardly tell what he was talking to me, I saw myself with no choice but to nod to everything he said. How do you expect that hours after I confirmed to my superior that I was dating, I would simply tell him that I didn't hear him for having the worst hangover of my life? Don't you know how unprofessional that is? I could be suspended!

The detective sighed. They were really in a difficult situation.

- Now what Inspector Megure said makes sense...said he.

"Huh?" What did Inspector Megure say?

- Ah! Well... apparently first he heard the rumors going around your division... And this morning I got a call from him saying that he happened to have to come early to the station and went by the Beika Motel, where he saw you come out first and within minutes of me from the place—he admitted something sad.

For a few seconds they both kept quiet.

But when I woke up in that room I was alone...

"Of course not!" I was just lying on the floor, probably because I fell somewhere in the night. That's why when you woke up you thought you were alone, you couldn't see me on the other side of the bed. Surely I woke up to the sound of the door when you left.

With a whimper of frustration, Nakamori dropped into one of the agency's sofas, too exhausted to think of all the problems that did nothing but pile up.

Everybody thinks we're dating, right? asked Kogoro, to which the eldest nodded. Then why don't we just go play along?

- Play along?

- You know! We had lunch with the superintendent and his wife over the weekend, pretended to keep going out for a couple more days and then we were done! Superintendent Chaki won't know you lied to him, Inspector Megure will continue to trust me, and the other officers will have something else to whisper about for the next two weeks.

Nakamori's first impression was to think that his companion had simply lost his mind. But the more he thought about his options, the only thing he saw possible was what Kogoro was saying. That showed how bad his situation was.

- Good! he resigned himself. On one condition. This will end as soon as possible after that damn lunch.

"Of course I do!" But I too must accept under one condition.

- But you were the one with the idea! Why should you demand something?

— But this must be beneficial to me too! "a sly smile was present on the detective's face." For all of us, we're just going out but there's nothing official yet, so... I want a great public proposal that can become a viral sensation! As today's young people would say: "Do it big or go home."

Nakamori was completely dumbfounded.

"Are you crazy?" Of course not! he growled. We don't have twenty years to do these things! Besides, why would someone like you care about something like that?

"Because," he interrupted, "you just have to think about this for a moment!" The fact that famous detective Mouri Kogoro starts dating one of Tokyo's most prestigious inspectors will be the most important news of the whole month! The public loves gossip," he continued. And, above all, gossip brings fame to those involved. My popularity will grow to the clouds!

For some reason, he wasn't surprised that someone like Kogoro had such a reason to stick with the plan.

— Also when we announce our separation, my mail will be filled with letters from nice girls who want to comfort me! In all those TV scandals it's always the fans who give support to their idols. I could even get an email from my dear Yoko-chan!

There was no choice but to accept.

Surprisingly, Ginzo's confession was a viral hit.

With the help of his daughter Aoko (who was more than happy to be able to participate in something like this) and his friend Kaito, the man managed to film a video in which, laden with gifts, flowers and alcohol, he appeared at the Mouri agency to declare his infinite love for the detective and how much he needed it.

By next morning all of Japan's newscasts were talking about the new Tokyo couple and how popular the two men had become.

Kogoro kept receiving letters from fans congratulating him on their relationship and a few of his love disappointments. Nakamori, meanwhile, was assisted by the detective to have lunch with Superintendent Chaki later that weekend. The man looked strangely happy during the event, even though at work he spent almost the whole day in bad temper it was clear he was quite sensitive to any love-related issue. He could even remember his words in firing the lovebirds in the afternoon: "I'm glad to know you can finally get by. I'm sure Mrs. Nakamori would agree that they make a beautiful couple."

Maybe that's why it was so hard to end that fake relationship after that. It just didn't feel right to do so soon.

The first few weeks Kogoro had taken the trouble to visit Nakamori when there was no customer to keep the farce and keep giving the impression of not-so-young lovers. At least that was his excuse at first, since one day he suddenly realized that the real reason for his visits was to spend as much time as possible with the inspector. More than staying home and watching some Yoko show, he longed more to travel to the police station and simply chat with his "partner" or accompany him until the moment he went home or had a beer at a nearby bar. Far from bothering him, Ginzo gradually began to appreciate every appearance of the detective in his precinct, even becoming disillusioned when he had no news of him for a whole day.

Within a month, when it was already quite safe to announce its breakup, another problem became present. And rather than being frustrated that they couldn't finish everything, deep down they were relieved.

"On the day of the sun, just as Artemis is at the highest point, I am going to take the jewel that is so jealously guarded in the heart of the city.

PD: I send a rose next to this notice to congratulate the inspector on his new relationship and to wish them well. I hope you both can attend my show to receive a surprise worthy of your love.

-Kaitou KID"

Kaitou KID's notices could not be kept secret for long, so just twelve hours after the police received it all the major Japanese media already announced the theft of the famous thief at the same time they used to revive the news of their romance and how they received blessings even from someone like KID. If they broke up now, they were only going to look bad.

The agreement was to wait a while longer after the robbery, until most had forgotten the subject and surprised them with the news of the separation.

But of course, nothing came out as they expected.

Boy, that white-gloved fucking thief had kept his word.

Kogoro ended up accompanying Nakamori to the Beika museum to protect the jewel and, even if he did not finish accepting it, because it had already become a custom for him to see his "partner" work. For some reason he loved to see how the man could control his squad with ease, admired the dedication he put to his work and really left a warm feeling in his chest when in his evening talks drinking at a Nakamori bar he confessed to him that there were few things he loved as much as his work. As promised, Kaitou KID showed up at midnight and stole the jewel in front of the entire police squad and mocking all the security measures taken. At the time of his escape, the thief activated a device that covered the museum's entire main room of confetti and colored papers, raining down even different types of colorful flowers. A bouquet of red roses fell right in front of the inspector, accompanied by a caption reading: "I wish you happiness." and signed by the typical KID cartoon stamp.

And, far from everyone forgetting their relationship, that event only served to make Japanese people want to know more about them and their personal lives. On several occasions the poor men had to deal with reporters and journalists who went to look for them at work or their home in an attempt to get an exclusive interview with one of the two most popular men of the moment. Of course Ginzo, being the professional he was, was always looking for an excuse to politely refuse and get rid of the annoying journalists.

Instead Kogoro...

"Why the hell did you agree to do that interview?" the inspector roared, whipping both hands hard at the desk where Kogoro worked.

- She was a very pretty girl! How could I refuse to receive it? he replied fearfully, aware at the time that perhaps giving an exclusive would not have been the best idea.

"But now all of Japan thinks we're getting married!"

Maybe during the interview the lie got out of hand...

- Sorry, sorry! he apologized over and over again.

Ginzo sighed. Now there was no chance of ending the farce and not being left as the biggest con artists in the whole country. He watched Kogoro give his speech about how he regretted talking to that girl, but he didn't really pay attention to what he was saying. For a few moments he let his mind wander.

Was this fake relationship worth breaking up?

Even if he was the one who was against the idea at first, at that moment the continuation with the detective didn't sound so bad. It could be a little loose, alcoholic, lazy, lazy... several of those were synonymous, right? But by interacting more personally with him over the last few months he had managed to see it in a new light. Aside from his daughter and a few co-workers, Nakamori now longed for someone else's company. Suddenly all the moments with Kogoro stopped being a nuisance to become something I was looking forward to. The subtle displays of public affection had ceased to be embarrassing to feel more special. And the congratulations they received at some point began to leave a warm feeling in his chest.

Would it be possible that...

Kogoro was shocked to receive a kiss on the lips, shutting his monolog instantly and covering his face with such intense red that anyone could mistake him for a tomato. Within seconds Ginzo parted, also blushing and breathing somewhat agitatedly.

- I'm withdrawing my condition. I don't want this deal to end anymore.

The detective still didn't know what to say, barely able to process what had just happened.

All I knew was that I agreed with the inspector.

— Do those journalists want a wedding? Then let's give her the best wedding in the whole region.

Before he could even give an affirmative, Nakamori had jumped at him again. And far from putting him away, the game followed.

[honey-dewey]

Five Car Pileup

Pairing: Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels/Reader

Word Count: 2,162

Warnings: Where to start? Probably medical inaccuracies, amputation, car accident, blood, gore, mentions of needles, mentions of death, Jack gets depressed but not for long, the reader has to cut Jack’s arm off without painkillers, but surprisingly no one dies, and I do promise it has a happy ending. This one’s harsh y’all, proceed with caution.

Permanent Taglist: @phoenixhalliwell @star-wars-hell

Nothing marks a day as ‘bad’ like having a painful 24 hour shift, two patients die in your care, and at the last ten minutes of your shift, a five car pileup where at least one man was severely injured. However, that man is your former boyfriend Jack Daniels, and boy oh boy is he in trouble. 

Short A/N: PLEASE pay attention to the warnings! This story is a doozy! Be careful, drive safely, and stay safe! 

You took a breath, leaning against the ambulance and finally scrubbing your hands down your face. This was why you didn’t wear any heavy makeup during night shifts. Mostly because no one cared, but partially so you could rub your face without worry.

The night had been unnecessarily long. You’d started working almost twenty four hours ago, and the constant work was starting to weigh on your shoulders. Two patients had died today, both while you were in the room with them. One had been an old woman who’d been battling cancer for years now, and the other had been a teenager who’d asked you to hold her hand as she passed. It was horribly taxing, and all you wanted to do was go home and make some tea, maybe curl up on the couch with a sappy movie or something while you slept away the past 24 hours.

A chiming brought your attention back, and you checked your watch, breathing out. Ten minutes until your shift was over. Ten minutes. Ten minutes.

And then your pager went off.

“Shit!” You yelled, grabbing it off your waist and looking at it. Swearing even more, you flagged down a paramedic running to the ambulance you were leaning against. The hospital was understaffed, as always, and they needed you to make a run with the paramedics. Something about a severe car accident, estimated five cars with at least one man badly injured. Groaning loudly, you hopped into the ambulance as it took off, sirens wailing. Of course. Of course you had an emergency within the last ten minutes of your shift.

The wreck wasn’t too far out, which was nice. You’d hate to be in charge of any patient for an hour long ride to the hospital. As the ambulance pulled to a stop, you jumped out, going into work mode. Car wrecks weren’t an uncommon event, and you’d had your fair share of wreck patients. Either they were ridiculously over-exaggerated or horribly under-exaggerated. Either way, this would be bad.

Taking in the wreck, you counted the vehicles. Five, as expected. Two trucks, two cars, and one SUV. The other paramedics began to examine the people standing on the side, a fire truck pulling up along with a handful of cop cars.

“There’s still someone trapped in there!” A woman with three kids by her side said to you as you circled the wreck. “He got my kids out, but he’s stuck and we can’t get him out.”

You nodded to the woman, seeing a wayward boot sticking out between the flipped cab of one of the trucks and the scraped door of a car. “I see him!”

Getting on your stomach, you managed to wiggle into the wreck, army crawling against the glass scattered ground. Calling out to the other paramedics and the firemen, you found the victim.

Scooting so you were parallel to the body, you reached out and managed to flip the head towards you, gasping. Jack Daniels, an old flame of yours. Blood stained the side of his head, and one eye was swollen shut. Every inch of skin that you could see was grimy and scattered with glass shards. He blinked his left eye open, a tiny, wavering grin blossoming as he saw you. “Hello darling. Here to rescue me?”

“Yes Jack,” you said calmly, hearing the firemen begin to move the truck above you. “Where does it hurt?”

Jack winced. “Arm. Right one. I think it’s stuck.”

“Okay,” you said, looking around. There was space to Jack’s left, and you moved out from his right so you could lay on his left. There was nothing separating you now, and you were able to take Jack’s heart rate and blood pressure, all while slowly treating his other, smaller wounds. Finally, you could face it no longer. You had to check the worst of the damage.

“Alright, let me see that arm,” you said, shimmying down so you were close to his arm. It was, as assumed, stuck. The SUV door had broken off and was now laying on Jack’s arm right near the shoulder, the thin strip of metal pressing into his skin not giving you any hope. “Jack.”

“That’s my name.”

“Jack the arm has to go.”

Silence. It was the unfortunate reality. Nothing could save him now. “The other paramedics can get you out, but this arm is too stuck. The SUV door isn’t going anywhere, and if I don’t take it off.”

The unsaid threat hung heavy in the air. Jack took a breath, and you could see his chest rise as he considered his options. “Will it hurt?”

“Like nothing you’ve ever experienced,” you said softly, words getting caught on your unusually tight throat. You’d scooted back up so you and Jack were face to face. The sound of another car being moved, exposing your back, crunched through the air.

Jack turned his face to look at you, swollen eye leaking tears. “Just do it.”

You nodded, taking his trapped hand and kissing it, wanting his last experience with both hands to be, at least, mildly pleasant.

“Let me go see if we have painkillers,” you said slowly, rolling out from the wreck.

Standing to face the paramedics, you explained the situation. They’d have to pull him out as soon as you were done if there was going to be any chance for him to survive. Grabbing a syringe full of the strongest painkillers you could find and a battery powered saw, you took a forced breath and got back under the car.

Jack was waiting, taking deep, slow breaths. “Hey darling.”

“Hey Jack,” you said, wiggling around until you could securely give him the painkillers. “How’s work been?”

“Oh, y’know,” Jack mumbled, wincing as you stuck him. “Same old, same old.”

You nodded. A while into your relationship, Jack had trusted you with the true secret of his job. You had never visited the Statesman secret service building, but the stories were amazing and usually hilarious. “Think they’ll be able to make you a fancy new arm?”

Jack chuckled weakly. “Yeah. All the bells and whistles.” He was quiet for a minute as you tried to still your shaking hands. “Darling?”

“Yeah?”

“When this is all over,” Jack said slowly, so slowly you feared he was losing consciousness. “How about a date? Out to that old restaurant you liked, the one where they had all their herbs and veggies growing out back.”

You smiled, reaching a hand through the shattered SUV window and caressing Jack’s face. “I’d like that Jack. I’d like that a lot. You survive this, and I’ll absolutely go out with you again. I do miss our conversations.”

Jack grinned, his one open eye blinking slowly. “Yeah. Sounds good.”

You moved back down, calling out to the paramedics who no doubt had a grip on Jack’s body and were waiting for you to do your job. “Ready!”

“Ready!” The call back was horrifying, and you positioned the saw above the line where the arm was trapped. From this angle, it would be tricky, but possible.

“Ready,” came Jack’s weak voice, and you shut your eyes tight for a split second before gathering yourself, putting on a brave face and your work emotions, and doing your damn job.

It was agony. Jack screamed, a horribly pained scream that tore at his throat and made you want to cry. He flailed, broken pleas for you to stop bubbling in between the screaming. The other paramedics held his limbs, securing him down so he didn’t screw up your hack job. You hoped the three children couldn’t hear as you kept going, working through skin, muscle, and bone. Jack’s continued screams made your blood run cold as you did your job quickly, finally able to shout “pull!”

Jack disappeared from your view as you collapsed onto the ground. Blood stained you from head to toe, and it took two men to help you to your feet. As you stumbled across the bloodied asphalt, your knees weak, two firemen took you and got you as clean as possible, wrapping you in a shock blanket and reassuring you that everything was okay. The mother with her two kids was gone, blissfully, but a few other spectators had remained, each visibly shaken by what they’d just heard and seen.

The ambulance with Jack in it was already gone by the time you were back in focus. “He’s gonna be okay?” You rasped, leaning against a paramedic you knew well.

Lawrence nodded. “He’ll be fine. C’mon, let’s get you home.”

In the end, you did go home. For almost twelve hours, you slept on the couch, making Lawrence swear to call you if anything happened to Jack. No such call came, so when you stumbled into work the next day, you were unsurprised but overjoyed to find Jack alive and recovering slowly. He was still unconscious, and was mostly being kept alive by machines, but you were ecstatic to see his heartbeat steady on the monitor.

“Hey you,” Lawrence said, coming up behind you. “You did good yesterday.”

“Didn’t feel good,” you said, avoiding looking at the thick white bandages that covered Jack’s hacked at shoulder.

Lawrence sighed. “He’s alive,” he reminded you. “Because of you. The boys and I were talking. None of us would’ve had the courage to crawl into that wreck and cut his arm off at that angle.”

You shrugged. “I’m never doing that again.”

“I bet.”

It took Jack months to recover enough for visitors. He was in your section, meaning you were taking care of him. For almost two months he was silent and mostly unresponsive, only really ever turning his head and shrugging when he had to. The wound healed nicely, and by the end of month three, you deemed him okay for visitors.

His first visitor was a woman in a neat button up. She was holding a white box and you recognized her very faintly.

“You can call me Ginger,” she said when you asked for her name. You nodded, suddenly remembering her. Ginger. One of Jack’s coworkers.

Jack was happy to see Ginger. He didn’t smile, but his posture shifted. Ginger set the box on the bed near his feet. “Daniels. How’s the hospital been treating you?”

“Better than the Statesman med center,” Jack said, and you grinned. That was the man you knew, sass and snark.

Ginger sat in a chair. “Well, you’ll be pleased to know that, while the hatter wasn’t happy to hear you destroyed his favorite hat, he made you a new one.” She opened the box and pulled out a pristine cowboy hat. Gently placing it on Jack’s head, she gave the brim a playful flick. “There’s the cowboy we’re all missing at work.”

Jack sighed, ducking his head down. With a jolt, you realized he was smiling. Jack was smiling again.

Another month passed, during which Jack returned to his former attitude. He attended PT daily, often with you beside him as he swore loudly while trying to maneuver the fake kitchen the physical therapy department had with one hand. When he was finally cleared for discharge, you went to your boss with a request.

“I want to be transferred,” you said. “Just for the time being, until Daniels returns to work. I want to be made his primary carer.”

It took some negotiating, but you walked out of the office with a new job. Jack put his arm around you as he waved to the various nurses and doctors who had saved his life, walking out of the hospital for the first time in months.

Your first stop was Statesman.

Champ was, as expected, sympathetic. Ginger was happy to see Jack back at work, and Tequila made exactly one stump joke before you kneed him in the dick and told him to fuck off.

Ginger also insisted on getting some scans and measurements of his shoulder. You held his left hand while Ginger uncovered the unsightly wound. He hissed at the contact, but Ginger kept her touch nice and light as she worked.

“I can build a prosthetic,” she decided finally. “It’ll function just like your old arm, and we can even build a flesh sleeve so it’ll look the same. I don’t think I can give it pain receptors though.”

Jack shook his head, sliding his shirt back on. “That’s fine. Don’t need anything fancy.”

You smiled, opening the door and taking Jack’s hand as he waved goodbye to Ginger.

“I believe I promised you a date,” Jack said as you two walked away from the Statesman infirmary, still hand in hand.

“I believe you did,” you said, following Jack through the building. “But I’m driving.”

Jack grinned, and you were glad, despite your fears months ago, that you’d been brave enough to step up and take the charge to save Jack’s life. “Well then, what are we waiting for, darling?”