#and the only other place ive ever felt safer than here is at her shows

[whyshedisappeared]

I go to a lot of concerts and the safest I’ve ever felt was Taylor’s Eras show

I'm a music freak. I learned to appreciate oprah at 9 years old, i learned classical concerts antique at 10. I go to so many shows, most of them alone, and I can count on one hand the ones I went to and felt completely safe outside of israel and all of them would be taylor shows

[heyyy-hey-babyyy]

When We Were Young (Part XI)

Dean x Fem!Reader; Sam x Fem!Reader (platonic)

Read part I here ; Read part II here ; Read part III here ;

Read part IV here ; Read part V here ; Read part VI here ;

Read part VII here ; Read part VIII here ; Read part IX here ;

Read Part X here ;

Warnings: Angst, Mentions of trauma/abuse, brief moments of self-harm, mentions of anxiety attack, smut

**This chapter contains brief mentions of assault and moments of smut (they do not coincide). Please be aware if this is trigging for you!

B/N: I’m getting a little lost in my own timeline, so apologies for any inaccuracies... All mistakes I claim as my own. Also, this is probably going to be the last chapter of “When We Were Young.” School started up again, and I think I wrapped things up fairly nice here... Let me know what you think?

Summary: Dean, Sam, and Y/N grew up together, but when she’s taken away for over 10 years, the boys have no idea what she’s been through. Will asking her to move into the bunker with them reveal more than she’s ready for?

3163 words

“Y/N,” Dean whispered, coming into the room. You had your back to him, throwing your clothes into your duffle, not bothering to fold anything. As soon as you got to Sam’s room and shut the door, you changed out of your sleep shorts and Sam’s flannel, opting for leggings and a loose baseball tee with the Minnesota Twins logo on it. You smiled to yourself, remembering Bobby’s present for your birthday so many years ago. You dad had scoffed at the bright blue fabric, as you lifted it out of the box carefully, looking questioningly at Bobby who merely shrugged looking awkward. He always wanted you to have a normal life and you guessed that meant watching baseball, which you did, for years, with Bobby by your side. 

You jumped slightly when Dean came in the room, not hearing the door open. He stopped a few feet away from you, but you didn’t turn to look at him, rather choosing to pull him lightly to you, wrapping his arms around your waist. You pressed your ring lightly to his wrist, breathing out the breath you had been holding, and relaxed into his tight hold on you. It seemed backward in this moment, but you needed Dean to replace all of your Greg memories of the last two days. Though you didn’t feel completely comfortable in many situations, you felt comfortable with Dean’s arms around you. Dean sighed lowly kissing your collarbone lightly as you leaned into him. 

“Y/N,” he began again. “You know that we’re safe here, we don’t have to leave.” You shook your head at his words. You weren’t safe here, if today was any indication. Greg already made you question Dean and Sam, what if he appeared as Bobby, or Castiel and took two of your other saviors away? Even worse, you had no idea the extent of his powers, what if he could appear as John or your own father? You didn’t think you could handle that, so you shook your head at Dean’s words. 

“No, I want to go home.” Dean nodded and kissed you again, leaving the room and allowing you to get your stuff together. 

Dean closed the door with a soft click, turning to his brother leaning against the wall just outside of the bedroom. When Dean emerged Sam stood up straight, concern etched across his brow. 

“Is she okay?” He asked, worried that you were falling a part behind closed doors, not knowing who you could turn to, or who you could believe to be the real person. Sam felt guilty that the shifter used him to lure Y/N away from Dean, and he wasn’t sure that guilt was going to go away anytime soon. 

Dean nodded his head in response. “Yeah, she just wants to go home.” Sam nodded back, understanding the want to return to the bunker. So much had happened here at Bobby’s, and Sam was sure Dean was beating himself up even more for letting Y/N convince him to allow her to come with. His brother may never admit it, but Sam knew he felt safer behind the bunkers steel door. Dean opened his mouth to speak again when the familiar flutter of wings cut him off. Cas appeared, standing uncomfortably close to Dean, and Sam covered his mouth with his hand, suppressing the laugh that bubbled up, seeing the angel look so serious, and Dean look so uncomfortable. 

Dean’s back was against the wall, so with nowhere to go, he put a hand on Cas’ shoulder. “Cas,” he began, looking seriously at the angel as if he were about to scold a small child. “We talked about this. Personal space?” 

Cas nodded and took two big steps back. “My apologies.” Dean gestured for him to say what he needed to, knowing Cas didn’t just show up for his health. 

“I followed the monster,” Cas began, clearing his throat. “He had returned to the place he was holding Y/N, but disappeared just as I was appearing behind him.” Dean’s look didn’t change, but Sam was going through every emotion, not knowing where to begin in tracking down this monster. Cas glanced between the two Winchesters, making sure he was clear to continue. 

“He disappeared somewhere in California, when I lost his trail. I’m sorry, I couldn’t be more helpful.” Cas looked both angry and upset with himself, and Dean couldn’t help but smile slightly at the blue-eyed man, knowing he loved Y/N, even just meeting her, as much as Sam did. He looked deep into the angel’s eyes before speaking. 

“You did what you could, Cas, And you saved Y/N, twice. She isn’t upset with you, and you shouldn’t be upset with yourself.” Cas nodded, and Sam stared confused at his brother’s sudden show of emotion. The entire situation was turning Dean more understanding and in tune with other’s emotions, and it gave Sam a bit of hope for both Dean and Y/N. Dean noticed his brother staring at him, and he narrowed his eyes, giving Sam a look only a brother could give, returning back to Cas. There’s the Dean I know, Sam thought to himself with a shake of his head and a small smile. All three men turned when the door behind them opened and Y/N emerged, looking exhausted. You walked swiftly to Dean’s side, laying your duffle at your feet. 

Cas stepped forward, looking down at his own feet. “Y/N, I followed the monster, but I wasn’t able to give you the justice you deserve. I’m so sorry.” You saw tears behind the angel’s bright blue eyes, and you rushed forward, engulfing the man in a strong hug. Cas looked awkward, not sure what to do with his hands, before he wrapped them slowly behind you, returning the hug. You didn’t speak, but hoped your embrace reminded Castiel that he did more for you in the last two days than you ever expected. You released your hold, and looked around at your boys with a long sigh. 

“I have to find Bobby.” Dean nodded, grabbing your duffel and heading outside to the Impala. “I’ll come with you” Sam nodded, not asking, and you understood why. Though you couldn’t help the image of what happened the last time you followed Sam blindly that bubbled to the surface. He seemed to sense your hesitation and held out his wrist for you, and you grasped it tightly, feeling your ring touch gently to his skin. When nothing happened, you nodded and headed downstairs, in search of your only remaining father figure. 

You and Sam searched every room, but couldn’t find any sign of the eldest hunter. You huffed out a sigh, just wanting to be home, but not wanting to leave without saying goodbye. Sam waited for your guidance, and you shrugged your shoulders, moving to Bobby’s desk, and searching his drawers for a piece of paper. You found an old receipt, and scrawled a quick goodbye, leaving your phone number, telling him to call you as soon as he read the note. Sam patted you on the shoulder, and you walked out of your childhood home and into the sleek black car. 

----------

Dean drove most of the way in silence, the radio playing an old Bob Seger tape quietly in the background. Everyone seemed tense. Even Sam was merely staring out the windshield, and hadn’t taken his phone out once. 

“Y/N,” Dean said suddenly, making you jump slightly. You were really getting sick of that you thought to yourself, but you let out a grunt in response, continuing to stare out the side window.

“Y/N, I know this might be hard,” Dean continued, rubbing a hand down his face, “but is there anything you might be able to tell us about the shifter from before...” He trailed off knowing what he was asking of you, and you turned to stare at him in the rearview mirror. 

“Dean.” Sam scolded, ever protective of you, and probably not wanting to hear the story first hand anyway. 

“Sam!” Dean responded back, louder than his brother, and you shrunk into the leather seat, afraid of a full-blown confrontation. “We have to figure out something! We have nothing on an alpha shapeshifter, and I’ve looked through dad’s journal twice.” You knew that Dean was only frustrated, but having to be on the other end of his yelling made tears raise to your eyes. You wanted to be strong, but you felt your resolve failing and all you wanted was to curl into bed and put these last few days behind you. Sam heard you sniffle quietly behind him, and he looked back quickly, witnessing a few tears drip down your cheeks. 

Dean opened his mouth ready to plead his case more, when Sam stopped him with a look, and Dean heard the soft noises you were making as well. He knew he was pushing you too hard, you had been through so much, but he wanted to find the bastard sooner rather than later, and if they didn’t know any of his weaknesses they might as well stop looking for him. He let out a sigh, and you glanced up at him from the back seat. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I just want to find him.” You nodded. You understood and you didn’t blame Dean for being upset, it was just all too much lately. And you couldn’t help the horrible thoughts that kept running through your mind. If Sam hadn’t come to see you that day, would any of this have happened? You would never blame Sam or Dean for the last few days, but you couldn’t help but think that you could be lounging in a hotel somewhere like before, your only concern being what game show you’d watch that night, had you not met up with the Winchesters again. The thoughts made you angry, and you suppressed the urge to lash out at yourself for being so selfish. You didn’t want to think anymore, and you definitely didn’t want to talk anymore. You’d help Dean and Sam with anything they wanted tomorrow. For now, you just wanted to sleep. Dean read your mind, as always, and shrugged off the flannel he was wearing, the car swerving a little, Sam scolding his brother again. Dean ignored him, handing his flannel to you without a word to use as a pillow. Instead you wrapped it around yourself like a makeshift blanket, breathing in the fading scent of his cologne, and fell instantly into a dreamless sleep. 

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

They arrived at the bunker a few hours later as the sun was beginning to set. Dean and Sam had spoken quietly, while Y/N slept, about some sort of game plan. They concluded that someone in their life had to know how to kill this thing, but until they found the right information, Y/N would stay in the bunker, in Dean’s room. Dean wasn’t positive that you wanted to stay with him, but he felt better with you at least surrounded by weapons, and Dean would sleep on the floor if he had too. If it meant keeping you safe. 

They pulled silently into the garage and Dean cut the engine. Y/N hadn’t moved, and Dean contemplated waking you or carrying you into the bunker and letting you sleep. He didn’t want to frighten you, should you wake up, but you looked more peaceful than you had in awhile. Sam muttered that he’d handle the bags, so Dean got out, careful to close the Impala door quietly, opening the back door slowly to prevent the squeaking. You didn’t stir as Dean pulled you from the back seat into his arms. Dean noticed that you had lost a little weight over the last few years and were almost weightless in his arms as he carried you down the hallway and into his room, placing you down on the bed. You still had his flannel covering your body, and Dean pulled it slowly away, discarding it to the floor next to the bed. 

He turned to leave when you pulled harshly on his arm, almost sending him backwards onto the bed. When he turned, your eyes were big and you were staring up at him. 

“Please, don’t leave me Dean.” Dean stared back, confused by the sudden change in the tone of your voice. He thought it looked like you weren’t worried that he would leave the bedroom, but rather that he was leaving your life entirely. It was almost like your eyes were screaming that they needed him, and he lowered himself slowly to the bed. 

“Baby, I’m never going to leave you. What’s going on?” He asked quietly, while you pulled him down to you, pressing your lips to his in a desperate kiss. He hesitated for a moment or so, unsure of what was going on, but returned the kiss slowly, feeling your arms snake gently up his back and under his shirt. Dean broke the kiss, and you let out a quiet whine as he pulled your hands away from his back gently, placing them above his shirt on his chest, so he could look at you his hands firmly grasping your wrists. 

“Hey, what’s going on?” He asked again gently, eyes creased with concern as you looked into his green eyes. 

You weren’t sure what you were doing, but you suddenly wanted him, and it was more than wanting him to make you forget. You looked away from his eyes awkwardly, and he released a wrist to turn your head back to look at him.

“Hey,” he said again, his voice velvety soft. “It’s not that I don’t want this...” He finished, trailing off, taking your response as thinking he was rejecting you. You nodded that you believed him, never really overthinking his attraction to you with so much else going on. If anything, you questioned your own attraction to him after what happened. But Dean continued to be the only man who ever made you feel anything that could be considered intimate, even if the feelings popped up at unconventional times. Nothing about your life anymore was conventional anyway. 

Dean was stroking your cheek gently while he patiently watched you make sense of what was happening in your own mind, and in your own heart. But you didn’t want to talk anymore, and you didn’t want to think anymore. You just wanted to feel something other than fear, and sadness. Without thinking about it more, you pulled Dean’s face back down toward yours, attaching your lips again, hoping he could feel that you needed this. That you wanted him, and you didn’t want to think twice about it. 

Dean responded to your kiss, and you felt him groan quietly when you moved your hands back under his shirt, exploring his back, and hiking it up in the process. Dean broke the kiss quickly, shrugging off the dark fabric, and returning his lips to yours, slowly this time, matching his pace to his hands making their way up your stomach, slipping under your shirt. You gasped lightly, the feeling of his hands sending chills throughout your body. You could feel his hands hesitate, and you moved your lips to lay lazy kisses across his bare chest in return. His hands tugged gently at the hem of your shirt, and you nodded, feeling him pull the shirt over your head and toss it near his own. You had a flash of emotion suddenly, but didn’t have time to think too much about it, as Dean was pulling down the cups of your thin bralette, and pressing his lips to the soft skin beneath. You felt your head fall back, as he explored his way across your chest, and down your stomach. You were completely lost in the feeling of his hands and mouth, but as he proceeded lower, you felt something in your head switch on, suddenly screaming at you to stop, and you flinched, turning your body to the side slightly at the urgency of the voice in your head. 

Dean pulled back immediately, eyes completely lust blown, but face a mix of confusion and something you couldn’t quite read. The voice in your head continued to scream, and you screwed up your eyes in pain, prompting Dean to stand up from the bed, pulling you to sit at the edge of the bed. He knelt down to your level, and you were sputtering out words trying to make sense of what was happening. 

“I’m so... I don’t... God, Dean...” Dean waited patiently, but you were spiraling into your own head and before you knew what was happening you were sobbing loudly, still attempting to explain yourself, while attempting to understand your own feelings.  

“I’m so sorry!” You sobbed out, Dean pulling you soft against his chest, not knowing what to say, simply smoothing down your hair comfortingly. You sat like this for awhile, until your body started to shake slightly from the cold air all around. Dean let you go, not looking directly at you, and pulling his own shirt on, before handing you yours. You slipped it on silently, and Dean stood in the middle of the room, awkwardly shuffling his feet back and forth. You were about to reach for him when he spoke up suddenly, his voice rough with emotion.

“I think I should maybe stay somewhere else tonight, Y/N... Let you have the bed to yourself.” He finished with a soft smile tugging at his lips, but he still wasn’t looking at you. You didn’t respond, so he simply nodded and headed toward the door without another word. Before you could stop yourself you were yelling out for him, new tears rushing down your face. 

“Dean, I’m so sorry! Please, please don’t leave me. I’m sorry!” You were frantic, and a voice in your head whispered that you were being pathetic, but you couldn’t stand if he was upset with you for pushing him too far. You had to know what was going on in his head, and you didn’t want to be alone. 

Dean was at your side in a second, pulling you into his lap so you were straddling him face buried in the crook of his neck. He whispered soothingly to you that ‘you were okay’ and ‘he wasn’t going anywhere,’ while you cried, gripping fistfuls of his t-shirt, and burying your face further into his neck, forcing your self to calm your breathing.

When your breathing was returning to normal and you calmed down slightly, Dean pulled you away from his chest lightly by the shoulders so he could look you in the eyes. 

“Baby, I am so sorry.” You could see the anguish behind his green eyes as he spoke, trying to keep his emotions in check. “I shouldn’t have let it go that far... I should have been able to control myself. That won’t happen again.” You looked deeply into his eyes, mouth slightly agape. He was blaming himself? 

You looked at him with a soft smile on your face and he looked confused for a moment before you spoke. “You have nothing to be sorry for, De. I...” You trailed off thinking of the right words. “I wanted that. I want you.” He smirked at you a little, the cocky teenager you knew and loved peeking through. You gave him a small scolding smile, and stroked his cheek, feeling him lean into it. God you loved this man. 

“I just don’t know how to get past this, Dean...” You were ashamed with how you were acting, your emotions continually all over the place. Dean pulled your head up to look at him, his thumbs swiping at the tears that were beginning to dry on your cheeks.

“I know how you’ll get past it.” You looked at him questioningly, the small smile on his face turning into a grin, as he leaned in and planted a kiss on your lips that tasted of hope, and good memories. He pulled away, keeping you close as he spoke. 

“We’ll get through this, and you wanna know why?” He paused to make sure you were listening and you were hanging on every word.

“We’ll get through it all because we’ll be together again, like when we were young.” 

When We Were Young Tag List: @vicmc624 @woundedxsmile @akshi8278 @supernatural3002 @imaginationisgrowth​ @thoughts-and-funnies

End? Let me know what you think in the comments!

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[summahsunlight]

All For You, Part 12

Rating: T

Word Count: 1812

Pairing: Poe Dameron x Pilot!Reader

Summary: Your life in the Resistance was not easy, being married to Commander Poe Dameron and a skilled pilot yourself. When you unexpectedly get pregnant, your life is forever changed. Raising a child on base is hard, but never having parents of your own as a child, you are determined to love your little girl and give her the best life. Poe is equally as devoted to you and your daughter, vowing to keep you both safe from the impending threat of the First Order.

Start from the beginning!

Taglist: @thescarletknight2014​, @elmoakepoke​, @xxidontwikeitxx​, @liadamerondjarin​, @marvelofwitch​, @blushingwueen​, @april-14-blog​, @agents-assemble​, @paintballkid711​, @softly-sad​, @badbitxhbuckybarnes​, @kesskirata​

Taglist is still open! Just let me know if you want to be added! Please let me know what you think, I love talking with you lovely people!  Happy reading🥰❤️

Usually, Poe considered himself calm and collected on missions--usually. His mind could normally take the twists and turns that any given mission threw his way--but not this. 

Despite the truce being called and the Resistance obtaining the information on Lor San Tekka, Poe could see some triumph in Agent Terex’s eyes as he delivered that final blow--how are your wife and daughter, Commander? I trust they are well. Safe. 

Poe had never felt his blood run so cold in his entire life. He wasn’t sure how this man knew about you and Emmy, but he did. Which meant that the First Order knew about you and Emmy.  Poe didn’t need to say a word for Terex to know that he’d found the pilot’s weakness. 

He felt sick the entire flight back to base. Someone had to have betrayed him to the First Order--to keep Emmy safe, she had not been added to his personnel file. He should send you away, but even sending you away held its own dangers. And he could no longer send you to Yavin IV--if the enemy knew about your daughter, they knew where his father lived--they know, they know, they know--the thought kept pounding away at him. 

How was he ever going to protect his family now?

“Commander?”

“General?”

Leia was looking at him, concerned. It was then that Poe realized the briefing room had been cleared--he was the only one still standing in there with the general. “What’s going on, Poe?”

Poe swallowed the bitter tasting bile in his throat. “That agent knew about Y/N and Emmy--I don’t know how.  Emmy isn’t on my personnel file for the very reason of keeping her safe, a secret. How did he know she exists?”

She sighed and placed her hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Poe. Maybe it’s time to send them away.”

He looked at her, exasperated. “Where? Someone on this base told the First Order about my daughter--if I sent them away, they’ll tell the First Order where they’ve gone. Or worse yet, they’ll go to my father.... and...General, what the hell do I do?”

“First, pull yourself together.”

“Yes...yes ma’am.”

“Second, you are not in this alone. The Resistance will help you.”

“I know that ma’am--”

“THIRD... talk to your wife, Poe.”

Rocking back on his heels, Poe knew that Leia was right--he needed to talk to you, you had to know of the threat that was made against you and the baby. You probably were not going to like his suggestion of leaving D’Qar. “Yes ma’am, I’ll talk to her.”

Leia gripped his shoulder. “Poe, no one on this base wants to see anything happen to Emmy. No matter what decision you and Y/N make, we’ll support you.”

Poe felt numb. Someone had betrayed him, someone had betrayed you--but worse yet, someone had betrayed your baby. As he headed back towards your quarters, that numbness turned into anger.  He had signed up for this--you had signed up for this--both you and Poe knew the risks.  However, Emmy, had not signed up for this and it was incredibly low of the First Order to even threaten her. 

BB-8 struggled to keep up with him, inquiring if Poe was going to send you and the baby away to someplace safer.

“I don’t know, buddy,” Poe murmured as he punched in the code to your quarters. “I haven’t decided yet.”

“Haven’t decided what yet?” you asked as your husband stepped inside the room. “You’re back sooner than I was expecting. Did everything go okay?”

Sighing, heavily, Poe immediately went to the baby, lifting her out of her crib and holding her close. “I promise, baby girl, no one is going to hurt you, or Mama. No one.”

The tensions in his voice gave you pause.  Feeling a pit form in your stomach, you shakily asked him, “Poe? Is everything okay?”

Poe pressed a kiss to the top of Emmy’s head. “No. The First Order knew about our mission, they were waiting for us when we arrived. We managed to get out fine, but Y/N--they know--they know about Emmy. They threatened both of you to get to me.”

“She isn’t listed in your personnel file. How could they know?”

“Someone told them; just like someone told them about the mission.”

“Who...who would do that?”

“I don’t know--but I’m gonna find out.”

You eyes quickly filled with tears. Poe handed you the baby and then took your face in his hands, kissing the tears that fell away. You heard him assure you that everything was going to be fine. “How can it be fine? We were so careful to keep Emmy a secret! And now...now...those monsters know...”

Poe wrapped you into his arms, hearing Emmy gurgle, happily. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you. My first instinct is to just send you and Emmy away, someplace else, someplace safe, but then... if they found out about the baby...they’re gonna find out where I sent you.”

Emmy cooed--a common response she had to Poe’s voice--and her little hand reach out to touch his cheek. You swallowed the sour taste in your mouth. “We’re, we’re in the safest place, Poe--the Resistance is the safest place. Even if we went back to the Republic, even if we went to stay with your dad--this is the safest place.”

“For now it is,” he said, softly. “Remember your promise to me?”

“Yes,” you answered, holding the baby closer, “I remember.”

“Good.” Poe’s lips pressed to your temple. “I’m holding you to it.”

“I know.” A sigh left your lips and you leaned into him. “I know.”

Poe stepped back, his thumb stroking across your cheek in a loving gesture. He hadn’t forgotten his promise to you either; even the silent one of keeping you safe. “I’m gonna find out who leaked the information, sweetheart.”

You simply nodded. “I know you will, Poe. No one is as stubborn and determined as you when you put your mind to something.” Suddenly, you recalled how protective he could be when you had been dating--a few other cadets had ended up with black eyes. “Don’t kill them.”

BB-8 whistled in agreement with you. Poe shot both of you a look. “If that is the only way to protect my family--I’m not going to hesitate.”

“And what if the person is a friend?”

“None of our friends would betray us like this.”

Glancing at the baby, you thought about his idealistic look at the galaxy. You didn’t share that--you had seen the dark side of the galaxy at such a young age that there was never a chance to develop ideals. “Are you hungry? Before you came in, Emmy and I were going to go to the mess hall for dinner.”

Poe rubbed his hands over his face. “Yeah... let me get out of this flight suit and wash up a bit.”

You could see the tension in his shoulders as he moved towards the refresher. It broke you heart how much weight he was carrying around.  “Poe.” He stopped and looked at you, softly. “It’s going to be okay.”

-------

A few days later it was your squadron sent out on a mission. Poe had thought about ordering you to stay but then realized what a bad idea that was. Instead, he had seen you off on the flight pad with the baby, with the promise that him and Emmy would be there waiting to great you when you returned.

Despite you being away, Poe still had responsibilities to attend too. And he was trusting no one take Emmy while he tended to those duties. She became a permanent fixture in briefings, sitting in his lap and laughing at inappropriate times. No one minded, in fact they thought she was quite adorable. 

Poe shuffled each briefing along as best he could. And then he would go straight to communications to see if they had heard from you. 

“Nothing yet today, sir,” the operator replied.

“You’ll let me know if you hear from her?” Poe asked.

“Yes sir.”

“Emmy and I are going for a walk.”

“Sir?”

“Use my comm, if she calls.”

Nodding, the operator got back to work, and Poe proceeded up to the flight pad. BB-8 followed behind, asking where they were going. The pilot smiled at the baby girl in his arms. “I think it’s time to show Emmy the lake, wouldn’t you agree Bee?”

Emmy smiled at the little droid when he beeped in excitement. Poe felt his heart warm seeing that smile. His daughter was enamored with BB-8. There were even a few instances where the droid had distracted Emmy enough to stop her crying while she was teething. 

Poe carefully walked the path towards the lake. It was spot that he often visited with you prior to the baby being born. The calm of the lake always seemed to put everything into perspective. 

“Here we go,” he said, as they got to the shore. “Want to put your toes in?”

The baby kicked her legs and cooed. Poe chuckled, removed her little boots and socks, and then with great care, dipped Emmy’s feet in the water. She squealed and pulled her feet up immediately, but he second time he dipped them in, she laughed and kick her feet about.

For the next several minutes, Poe could forget about all his worries in the galaxy and bask in the joy of watching his daughter discover the lake for the first time. Her curious little eyes soaked it all in, her feet rapidly moved among the gentle ripples and she laughed when BB-8 got a little water on him. 

But the joy only lasted for a bit. His comm link went off, calling him back to base. Poe grabbed the baby’s boots and socks, and with BB-8 rolling behind him, he proceeded back to the flight pad.

Snap didn’t need to meet him to tell him that something was wrong. Poe could clearly see the pair of x-wings on the tarmac, smoke billowing from the engines--one of them was yours. 

“Where’s Y/N?” Poe snapped.

“Poe listen--before you go storming the base,” Snap started.

“Snap. Where’s my wife.”

“They rushed her to the med bay.”

Poe felt a fire burn in his stomach. “Was it the First Order?”

Snap nodded. “Yeah; it was.”

“Terex?”

“Not sure; no one was able to talk to Y/N yet.”

Emmy whined, reminded Poe that he was still holding her. He gently rubbed her back to reassure her. “I’m going to find out who told him about my wife’s mission, Snap.”

Snap frowned, having seen that look in Poe’s eyes before. “And do what?”

Poe ground his teeth. “Make them pay.”

[breaddaerb]

Long time no see bread. It is I, again, the one who is always watching and hungry : SOVIPER ANON

*EVIL LAUGH*

Can I have, maybe, just asking, only if you want to, some arguing with a cute end? Maybe my couple being really passive-agressive but loving each other in the end...

And if you keep writing this amazing stuff, I'LL BE BACK

*EVIL LAUGH* *SMOKE* *SOVIPER ANON OUT*

[ sova x viper IV ]

✎↷: AHHH ITS TEAM ROCKET

well you know if you put it this way, i can’t really say no! let me just say, soviper anon, when i got the request about if i had any soviper content, i snorted to myself and thought of you. yeah! you’re that special, friend! anwyays, enjoy the ship content! didn’t reread this one over tooo much since i had it packed away for a few days now :D

As Viper watches Sova’s blonde hair whip down the hallway in a flurry of stomps and muttered curses, she knows she’s done something wrong.

Well— it wasn’t wrong in her eyes. All she had done was suggest that his owl could be improved by lacing his tracking dart with poison. It was more lethal, wasn’t it? If he could subdue someone while they worked, they’d get stacks of progress done instead of needing to beat around the bush.

Somehow, her partner has gotten offended by it. She already knows that his inventions are held dear to him, given his own cybernetic eye, but what’s the harm in an idea for improvement? He told her it ‘wasn’t that simple’ and ‘not everything needed to be a nuclear weapon’, and Viper brushed him off. It’s dumb and petty to her, so she doesn’t see the need to stop the Russian when he runs away. It’s not her fault that he’s upset.

The guilt welcomes itself into her mind when Sova doesn’t show up to dinner that night. She’s brooded on her own for nearly the whole day, taut and put at her wit’s end as she reevaluated their conversation over and over again. Viper was now stationed in the living room with Reyna, her plate of food pulled into her lap. There wasn’t much chatter between them beside the idle remark, but Viper couldn’t ignore the deep stare that the Mexican was giving the American, as if she was being observed. It frustrated her.

When it eventually got to be too annoying for Viper, her head snapped up, eyes venomous. “What are you looking at?” She gruffed, tone harsh ended and sharp.

Reyna didn’t even flinch. “Someone is upset today. What’s the matter, serpentine?”

Viper placed her dinner down, stomach twisted into sour knots. She did not need the woman pressing on her, especially when Sova was still MIA.

“What could you possibly get out of hearing it? Some reassurance that at least one of us has a life?”

Chuckling, the purple haired woman disbelievingly shook her head and ran a clawed hand through her mane. Reyna was always painfully— and obnoxiously— smug about the amusement she got out of seeing Viper’s frustrations.

However, it doesn’t take much for Reyna to continue, thoroughly entertained by Viper’s ruffled feathers. “Ay, nono, hermanita. Nothing like that,” she grinned, leaning forward with a hand beneath her chin. “The owl is not here today, is he?”

The tense of Viper’s hands answer the question for her.

Her gaze sharpens, and Reyna resembles a predator ready to prey. “Trouble in paradise, I see.”

This is more than what Viper will ever come to handle, but she’d be damned if she admitted that Sova’s peaceful ways have begun to rub off on her.

(He would be delighted to hear that. It’s not everyday where you turn a war criminal into a slightly safer, more peaceful murderer.)

“It’s none of your business,” she grumbled instead, stubbornly chewing on a forkful of lettuce. Reyna is pleased with this reaction, if her tittering beside the woman is any indication.

“I should express empathy for the others in our little group, don’t I? This includes the boy of yours.” Slipping from her seat, Reyna rises to refill her glass of water. She knows Viper is listening to her because of the vehement stare that bores itself into the back of her head, lasering through the flesh.

When Reyna turns around to face Viper again, the American is already rising out of her seat and making a beeline for the exit of the living room. It’s laughable at how on edge this woman is at a pointlessly minuscule conversation, but she’s trying her best and her ‘stabilizer’ isn’t there, so someone help her.

“You are yet to talk to him, no? I have heard that apologies are useful in situations like these— unless you plan on lurking around like a measly rat.”

Viper doesn’t take these words well, scowling at the doorway with her face pulling into a frown. “You don’t know him like I do. I would suggest that you’d stay out of it, vampire.”

Reyna sleazed over the countertop, a smug expression on her face. “Oh, but I do? Sabine, you must learn with the softer ones. Sage may play hard to get with me, but it does not mean she avoids me. You on the other hand..”

At this point, she’s heard enough and she flees the living room for a quieter, emptier space. On a normal day, it’s not difficult to block out Reyna’s charms and her games. They both know this. And yet she finds herself bothered, flames of guilt licking up the insides of her stomach as she comes to stop in front of the very doors that she’s been dreading the most.

She needs to start somewhere. Somewhere is... here.

Her knuckles rap against the door, and the scientist paced up and down the hallway while she waits like the maniac she is. In fact, she’s so caught up in it that she doesn’t realize when the door opens with her lover’s head peeking out of it.

Sova doesn’t look too tired, in her observation. His skin retains brightness, and his hair is still fluffy and thick. He looks fine, in all regards, but she knows he’s not. It never is.

“Hi,” she musters after a moment of silence. Sova gets this look of conflict, and before she’s able to say any more, he sighs and opens the door wider, granting her entree.

Sova’s room is something she’s well acquainted with by this point, but she doesn’t have the courage to sit down and make herself at home like the other times. Viper stands numbly in the middle of the room, observing Sova go about his life.

Abruptly, he clears his throat, which may have scared her out of her skin if she wasn’t caught up in the storm that was her mind. Right, she was here for a reason.

“I am... sorry.” Viper admits slowly, arms closing in over her chest. “I didn't mean to upset you, owl. I am unsure of where I messed up, but I hope you know that I take full accountability for it. Whatever it may be.”

Her head dips sincerely, and while it feels wrong to speak in such a vulnerable way, Sova looks ecstatic. His eyes widen like he hadn’t expected that and seriously, who would when it comes to the untouchable Viper? She was called that for a reason.

The Russian engulfs the smaller American woman, and Viper’s clearly put off if not surprised by the physical contact. An apology doesn’t typically incite or encourage affection, according to her observations. Normally, emotions boil and spark at the very sight of one, but Sova defies her standards by the simple way his fingers tenderly held onto the sides of her hips. How expected of him.

“It wasn’t that big of a deal,” he mumbles, but Viper gives him a pointed look and the man concedes. Sova looks softer than ever like this, and what it does to these.. stirring emotions in her chest, she isn’t fully sure.

Viper’s thumb presses along Sova’s collarbone. “Then what was it, Sova?”

He goes quiet, either savoring the embrace or thinking about what he was going to say next. It happened to be both.

“I don’t want a mean bird.”

She blinks. Once, then twice.

“..what?”

Sova shies away, his face pinker when he speaks up. “The owl. It means a lot to me. I wouldn’t.. want to see it be used to torment people so much. It’s meant to be cute.”

The last part goes mumbled, and because she’s so close to him, she can make out each and every word. She shouldn’t be rendered speechless by something so.. pathetically and adorably childish, but that’s exactly what ends up happening.

“You’re telling me that you got mad,” she makes a gesture with her hands, tone raising. “just because it’s cute? Really?”

He frowned deeply, like he had a plenty reasonable excuse. “Is that so wrong?”

Viper wants to bite at him and pull her hair out. This built up stress, tension, the boiling, all of it for this little reason. She’s close to blowing her top off when she distinctly remembers that this, although minimal to her, was why she fell for Sova in the first place. How dare her heart betray her in the name of science and humanity? She was disgusted...

...and more cuddly than usual, with her head burrowing itself into the crook of his neck. Sova is still pouty, though he indulges her with a light pat to her back and a chuckle. Viper can’t believe she was tortured the whole day just for this.

“You felt tortured?”

Shit. She didn’t mean to say that out loud.

“..no. It was an exaggeration, owl, think nothing of it.”

A wide smile stretches across his face, giddy and warm and everything that Viper needs to relax. He leans in, placing a kiss against the crease of her hair.

“It’s okay, Sabine! I felt the same way. It’s hard to go about without seeing you by my side.”

“Oh, be quiet.”

[faecaptainofdreams]

Story time! The start of this story has a bit of a theme song, because i just always think of this: www.youtube.com/watch?v=uyGSe7… Sad and awful as it looks, this actually has a majorly happy ending! Major thank you to my friend Sumi-Sprite for collaging this for me! -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- When Walter is 22, he goes on a very dangerous mission with Lance. While they wait for backup (which Lance is willing to accept most of the time now on account of personal growth), the duo storms a chemical lab, where the "final battle" takes place. I don't have a lot of details worked out, but long story short, they succeed in their mission (with several casualties as a result of what comes next), but fire and blow-outs in the lab lead to a very terrifying situation. The men find themselves in a space with only one oxygen mask for emergencies. Lance forces Walter to wear it,  but even after being taught compromise, the latter is very stubborn. As Lance begins to lose consciousness from being stuck inhaling smoke and various chemicals, Walter takes advantage of this. He shoots him in the neck with his own tranquilizer (a familiar scene, no?), and as Lance is passing out, Walter gives him the mask instead. Lance passes out from the tranquilizer, and Walter slowly begins to suffocate until he too, is rendered unconscious. Lance wakes up in the medical bay at the H.T.U.V. Delirious but suddenly remembering the mission, he starts to panic and call out for Walter. Not a few moments later, the younger of them reveals he's in a bed right beside Lance's, groggy with an oxygen mask strapped to his face, an IV in his arm and an EKG hooked up to him, but he's smiling and reaching out for Lance. Lance takes the boy's hand firmly and says "You scared me." Walter answers with "You scared me first...!" He sleepily explains that backup came and rescued them and brought them back to the agency, where they've apparently only been for a short while. In better shape than Walter on account of the latter's sacrifice, Lance gets up and lays beside him, jokingly threatening a "quadruple fire" if he ever does something like that again. Walter very softly smiles and says "I'm not sorry." When Marcy eventually shows up to visit them after hearing the news, she finds them laying there in the bed together and jokingly asks if she's interrupting something. "Nope, just two grown men cuddling after they almost died, nothin' to see here," answers Lance in a similar tone. Marcy informs them that most of their targets were saved and are in custody (some of them being in the hospital), but a few of them died from the fire and chemical blast. Walter is sad to hear it, but accepting of it, and glad that not every life was lost. About an hour or two later, he's stable enough to be off of the oxygen and other attachments. With all the smoke and chemical inhalation, the medical staff advises giving Walter a bronchoscopy to check for potential damage to his lungs. Such a procedure often only requires conscious sedation with a numbing of the nose and throat, but when they get him to the operating room, Walter panics at the thought of being awake while having a scope down his throat; after having nearly suffocated to death just hours ago, the thought of being awake and the fear of suffocating again is too much to bear (even though he would be fine). So instead, they decide to give him a general anesthesia and put him under for the procedure. It's just safer for everyone this way. When it's over and he's beginning to wake from the anesthesia, Walter is wheeled back to his room on the bed, and is happy to see Marcy and Lance waiting for him. But anesthesia is a funny thing, and as he's wheeled in, he's singing the Disclaimer Song in a very loopy fashion. Once settled, he chooses not to finish the song. This conversation ensues: ------- "Lance: You're not gonna finish the song? Walter: *mildly sassy* Ffffhhh, youknooww... I sing...ALLLL the tiiime, anndiiiffinishh all of them, anndd it'ssfuunn, buut... Whyy issitt aalwaayys me...? Why'd's WalterrBeckkett onlyy siing??? YOUU finishth'sonng... Lance: *"well shit" face* Wow, all right then, I'll finish the song. ♫Don't try this at home, if you do, you might--♫ Ey, aren't you gonna sing? Walter: ...Mmm givinng youaheadd starrtt..." ------- He joins in eventually. There is a lot of talking about various things, and lots of Marcy and Lance laughing to themselves at the rambling and singing. Oh yes, more singing. Lots of singing. Lance records some of the rambling, including an entire conversation that begins with Walter casually asking if they'll have to "take his lungs out." After being told no, that he's perfectly fine, he says it would be hard to breathe without lungs, and then regales his company with the thought of the lungs being replaced with balloons. Specifically, the left one would be blue, and the right one would be red. Why? He doesn't know, it's not his call, apparently. At the thought of them popping if he took too deep a breath, a laughing fit on Walter's part ensues. A little while later, this conversation happens: --- "Walter: Whenn I'mmbetterr, 'm gonna drriiveyou'round in the e-tron... Lance: You wanna drive me around? Walter: Yeaaah... Ohh, waait... Imight craash... Lance: Naaahhh, i think it'd be worth the risk. You can drive the car. Walter: Buutt youuloove that carr... Lance: Yeah, well... I love you more. Walter: Hmm..... Whaat...? Lance: *softly* I said I love you, Walter." --- Lance has told him this before, but in his drugged up state, the blatant expression of love swiftly turns the tide of the mood from funny to pitiful. Walter bursts into tears and tells Lance he loves him, too. And Marcy. And Killian, and Joy, and Lovey and Jeff and Crazy Eyes, and Terrance even though he ignores him, and August (OC) and Ramsey (OC [sorta]) and Shannon (OC) and that he thinks it's mean that people nickname Joy "Joyless," all while bawling his poor eyes out. Endeared, Marcy and Lance try to calm him down. But Walter reveals that he hasn't forgotten his conversation with Lance when they first woke up in that room together. He says he's sorry for scaring Lance, that he just didn't want him to die because he "doesn't want to be alone again," but that he understands Lance has the same fear and he just couldn't win. Somewhere in the rambling mess of emotions, he mentions fear of Lance "dying like his mother." Basically, every subconscious or pushed-down negative thought and feeling he's had since the mission comes blubbering out in a heap of drunken tears and sadness. Seeing how very real his distress is, his company is quick to try and ease his mind and offer him comfort. Walter asks if Lance really is going to fire him again, to which Lance says no. He then asks if Lance is mad at him, which earns another "no." Lance says no one is mad at him, that he just needs to close his eyes and try to take a nap. After a few minutes of quietly crying to himself with his eyes closed, Walter comes to a terrifying conclusion... What if he never stops crying?! Of course, Lance almost bursts out laughing, but a death glare from Marcy forces him to keep it to himself, lest he risk further upsetting Walter. It may sound ridiculous, but for someone who's been anesthetized, every feeling is very real. Marcy comforts him, tells him no, he's not going to cry forever. It's not long before the tears slow down. They don't stop, but they slow down. [fun fact: crying is reported in 40% of patients who wake from anesthesia, be it for a presented reason or for no reason at all. Very little is known about why this occurs, though it's suspected that the stress and fear from whatever they had to be put out for manifests itself in that drugged-up state. This is referred to as "the boo-hoos."] But it's late, and Marcy must go home. She and Lance talk off to the side, and the lady gives her man a kiss to remember her by for the evening.~ After Marcy's departure, Lance decides that after everything they've been through and with how upset Walter's been, he will sleep in the bed with him. He reclines him, crawls in, and holds him tight until morning. Walter wakes up around 1 in the morning, mildly confused, but Lance tells him to go back to sleep. Happy that Lance stayed with him and choosing not to question this unexpected all-night cuddling party, he submits without a word. By morning, everything is fine, and the anesthesia has worn off. Before the lad can even put his clothes on, Lance just HAS to show him the video he took of him while he was all loopy. Walter is embarrassed and cringes through it, but also laughs at some parts. It's a happy ending. "Okay but for real, don't ever do that again."        "No promises." ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------------------------------------------- ----------------------------------------------- This movie is something else. Lance, Walter and Killian have all experienced trauma and loss, but in different ways. Walter and Killian are the extremes; one copes with loss through love, wanting desperately to let people in and let others know they aren't alone. Killian has no way to cope, and expresses his pain through hatred and a desperate longing to make the one who hurt him feel what he's felt, and then end it all in his own death. Lance is right in the middle. He has acquaintances, he talks to people, he cares, but he holds everyone at arm's length. He pretends everything is fine, he acts cold and aloof, "too cool" for playing on a team or working with others. But really, it's a fear of letting others in, because life could take it all away again. He still bears a lot of empathy, but also exercises carelessness on criminals. He and Killian are not so different, but with Walter's help, both men learn to open up (we can see Killian's expression for redemption in his final scene in the movie, we know he was a little touched that Walter saved him. Also consider, Killian didn't know Walter survived that fall at the time). So now that they're partners and each have someone in their lives to love -- multiple people now, in fact, it means feeling desperation to keep them close. It means taking a bigger risk, it means work. After everything they've been through, no, Lance is not ashamed to hug and hold and love on his little nerdy white gay son. He's not afraid of intimacy anymore, no matter the form. He'll take what he can get, because tomorrow is never a promise. Would you die for the ones you love...?

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt 166

166

Waking up in the stupidly early hours of the morning, Lance crept around his house as secretly as he could. The shock of not waking up to Keith was shoved aside by the dire need to pee, then throw up. Hearing far too much, when he was far too sleepy, Lance knew he should have tried not to listen to Shiro and Keith as they bickered while painting the nursery. He couldn’t deny part of it was to distract himself from how much he hated throwing up and wanted to concentrate on something much more happier than the wet hacking noises he was making. Painting the nursery was supposed to be his and Keith’s job, yet Shiro sorely needed Keith time and Keith most definitely needed time with his brother, so he could forgive the pair of idiots for painting in the middle of the night.

Creeping along the hallway, he muffled a curse as he tripped on one of the boxes from the nursery, still his movements until he was sure neither brother had noticed. For someone who knew he really should leave the pair alone, he also totally wanted to spy on them and make sure they were doing a good job... Inch by inch the vampire made his way to the open door. Judging by the music playing, Shiro had gotten his way as the songs were all from his youth, not Keith’s.

Peaking around the corner, Lance smiled at the sight of the pair of idiots. Keith was up on Shiro’s shoulders, trying to cover up the mess they’d made of the top moulding. Shiro directed by Keith as he painted. Lance half wished they had surveillance in the nursery because the pair of them were being too damn cute. They’d painted the three walls, leaving the space Lance would have to cut out free enough that it wouldn’t look awkward when the spot was painted to hide the repair. They made such a good team. Shiro had painted down his face again, but he was smiling happily as he teased Keith over dribbling, asking if he needed a bib.

Laughing hard at his brother, Keith nearly fell off Shiro’s shoulders, Lance moving instinctively to catch him, stopping himself a couple of steps into the nursery. Fuck. He’d messed up. He was supposed to be spying, not interrupting

“Lance?”

Preoccupied with not sticking the paintbrush in Shiro’s hair, Keith dropped it as his head snapped up. His boyfriend looked very much like a deer in the headlights as he swallowed hard, before almost nervously starting

“I can explain...”

Lance held his hands up. He wasn’t trying to ruin the moment, not anymore than he had done

“Sorry, I heard the music and saw the light on”

“Oh... Me and Shiro were...”

“Painting the nursery. I noticed. Don’t stop on my account”

Keith slid himself down Shiro’s back, Lance kicking himself for acting without thinking

“I’m not... I mean...”

His boyfriend was attempting to apologise. Lance wasn’t having it

“Babe, seriously, it’s fine. I’m going to head back to bed, you two don’t let me stop you”

“I mean... are you sure?”

“You’re the one who said I was in charge of the back wall, I totally trust you guys. Plus, you haven’t done a bad job”

Shiro cleared his throat

“I didn’t mean to upset you. If you’d really rather...”

Oh Lordy, not Shiro too

“Guys, not mad at all. I was up anyway, and now I’m going to be down again. Gotta try fit in some sleep before I have to pee again. Take your time, just don’t go falling off Shiro’s shoulders. I don’t have workers comp for improvised ladders made from older brothers. Hell, I don’t have workers comp at all”

Both brothers relaxed, Lance waving them goodbye as he headed back to his room. He could hear them discussing whether to continue or not, hoping they would and that Keith would drag him off to see the job they’d done in the morning. When he’d lived alone it wasn’t unusual for him to paint or remodel in the middle of the night when the whim took him. Keith was working hard to be a good dad, but to Lance, his boyfriend already was. The vampire hoped that his boyfriend knew he appreciated everything he did for the three of them, though maybe he’d make extra sure between the sheets come morning.

*

Keith and Shiro didn’t sleep. Lance woke to find Keith’s side of their bed empty, more than once as he got up to pee then go back to bed. When it rolled around to being a semi decent time to climb up, he’d found both brothers conked out in the nursery. Keith asleep with his head on Shiro’s shoulder, paint rollers laying next to them. Carefully he lifted Shiro first, finding him much heavier than he thought he be as he carried him to his and Keith’s bed, because he knew his boyfriend would freak about him trying to carry Shiro downstairs. Coming back for Keith, he tucked both brothers in next to each other, then set the alarm on his phone for lunch time. Keith had roused a little in his arms, Lance stealing a kiss before assuring him he loved him and he needed a few hours of proper sleep.

Being the earliest riser came with one severe disadvantage. No body was awake to tell him not to go where he’d find something he really didn’t want to see. His kitchen looked as if a bomb had gone off. Blood smeared across the table and counters, his medication bottles smashed in the sink. Glasses randomly placed around the space, the window open, plates broke on the counter. The smell of so much blood sent his ego into overdrive as Lance held his stomach, gutted at the sight before him. Blue was shut in a cupboard, meowing mournfully until Lance gathered her out and into his arms. He’d checked on his way past the living room. Curtis seemed asleep, totally dead to the world and like there was no way he could have possibly been responsible for the mess. Lance couldn’t even try to blame it on raccoons, there weren’t any in the area, and Curtis’s scent hung so strongly in the air.

How was he supposed to tell Curtis? Curtis was one of his best friends. He wanted everything to appear as normal as possibly, but what he’d woken up to left him crying as Blue to tried to escape his tears. He couldn’t deal with everything and have everything appearing normal by the time the others woke. Rieva and Matt would both be mad. Rieva probably madder than he’d ever seen her before. She’d taken on her own role as his protector. Her seeing the destruction caused would send her ego into a fit of rage he honestly feared. His best boy Kosmo hadn’t come to greet him, leaving him with a terrible fear something had been done to him.

Creeping into Matt and Rieva’s room, relief flooded him when he found Kosmo sleeping on the end of the bed. His fur son thudding his tail as he whined at him. Yeah. He got it. Curtis had accidentally scared their fur babies. For now it was safer to leave Kosmo there and Blue with him, despite not wanting to let his precious princess go. Placing Blue down, she let out a “rowr” as she raced across the floor then leapt light on the bed, immediately bunting into Kosmo’s boof head, happy to be reunited with her doggo. Closing the door almost silently, Lance kept his steps light, feeling like an intruder in his own home as he headed to his office.

Krolia had left the door unlocked, making access easy. Slipping into the room, Lance didn’t want to disturb her, but right now he needed someone vaguely more adult than him. His Mami had covered up plenty of times he’d lost his temper thanks to his ego, or thrown up in fear, or had torn through his room to make sure nothing bad was hiding in the shadows. Curtis wasn’t his child, yet he knew how broken hearted he’d be. Maybe acting like nothing was wrong was the wrong move? All he wanted to do was be a good friend.

Shaking Krolia’s shoulder, Krolia roused easily. Lance jumping back as the woman clutched at her chest

“Holy fuck! Jesus, Lance... you scared the shit out of me”

“I’m sorry... Krolia, I need your help... I think I fucked up”

For a woman who’d just been shaken away and given a miniature heart attack as she was, Krolia was a zillion times better at waking up than Keith was. Instantly alert, she pushed back the blankets

“Lance, are you okay?”

There didn’t seem to be the right word to describe how unokay he felt. Her asking served to make him cry harder. The majority of his medication was ruined. He only had what was upstairs now, or what he’d left in his office.

Moving from the single bed, Krolia wrapped her arm around him

“Whoa. You need to calm down... Whatever happened to make you so upset? Here, sit down and tell me”

Lance shook his head. If he sat he’d only risk the chance of Curtis getting up for a glass of water and seeing the carnage

“Can you come with me?”

“Ive got to be honest, I’d rather you sit. You’re kind of scaring me”

“I’m sorry. I don’t know who to ask and I need help right now”

“Is it the twins? Are you in pain?”

“It’s not... it’s easier to show you”

“Okay, lead the way”

Returning to the kitchen, Krolia stalled in the doorway as Lance walked back into his messed up kitchen. Having been in there before, he didn’t think to check the floor, discovering the hard way that there were shattered bottles on the floor too. Whimpering at the unexpected pain, Krolia was by his side in a moment, pulling out the closest chair to force him to sit. Dropping a kiss on the top of his head, for a moment it felt like his Mami was the one there coming to his rescue

“Stay here and don’t move. I’ll get my boots. Here, put this against your foot to stem the bleeding. Can you feel if there’s any glass still in there?”

“I think it is”

Taking the tea towel from Krolia, Lance was thankful that he remained pretty flexible despite the lack of yoga he’d done of late. Pulling out the base of a broken vial from his foot, he threw it into the sink to join the rest before holding the tea towel over the wound. He’d have to tell Shiro about this. Shiro would be devastated too. Matt and Rieva must have had their noise cancelling headphones on and missed the sounds. He had no excuse. There’d been a time when the smallest sound would have woken him. Sleeping in a bed filled with Keith’s scent calmed his ego too much, now this was the price of it. To tell Shiro felt likes betrayal. He felt like that kid running to a teacher to dob in another kid over something that had happened some time ago.

When Krolia came back, she draped one of the blankets from his bed over his shaking shoulders. The tears wouldn’t stop. His foot seemed a far cry pain wise when it came to the emotional pain he felt. His house was his haven. His safe place. A place he filled with love. Three times in the last 24 hours had that been disturbed, all by Curtis who couldn’t even help it. Things well and truly sucked. He needed to get up and help Krolia, but all he wanted to do was cry over the unfairness of the situation

“I’ll start by sweeping the floor. Can I get you anything?”

“I should help”

“I’m not letting you help when you’re in no condition. I know you’ve had complications. For now you should work on settling your emotions”

Krolia was right. He knew his fangs were poking out and his nails clawed. She was right in all the ways he needed right now

“Can... would you maybe please make me a cup of tea?”

Krolia’s skills in the kitchen didn’t exist. He knew that, yet it wasn’t like she could go wrong. Mami always settled him down with a cup of tea. The liquid itself coming second to its scent, a scent he’d always associate with Coran and his mother

“I can do that. You’ll have to tell me how you like it”

“White, one sugar, please”

“Okay”

There was more to that reply that went unsaid. Krolia would call Coran once the evidence was dealt with. He’d need to ask for more medication. Lance knew he was leaking pheromones all over the place, that the stress was bad for the pregnancy, yet Krolia didn’t seem to scent him. Keith would have been able to tell in an instant something was wrong from his scent alone. His body felt slightly flushed, but the deep heavy depressed feeling of the situation seemed the be currently squashing down those particular needs for now. Maybe he should be the one to call Coran? To explain things from his point of view so Coran wouldn’t be too harsh on Curtis. No. Coran wouldn’t be too hard on Curtis. Coran had probably seen so much worse in his long, long, life. His life and the life’s of their friends was probably just a drop in the ocean compared to everything Coran had done in his time.

“Here’s your tea. I’m starting to feel like a real mum. First Keith, and now you”

Krolia seemed pleased as she passed Lance his tea, he’d been so in his head he’d barely noticed her make it

“You talked to Keith?”

“A bit. He was angsting over how to wake Shiro to talk to him”

Lance stared down at his tea. Krolia had put the milk straight in so the colour was a sad off white. Still, he appreciated it as he breathed in deeply trying to focus on the scent of the tea instead of the blood

“Oh. Yeah. He does that. He still says he’s bad with words... he’s really not. He’s just carrying the trauma still of when people dismissed him without listening. Sometimes he doesn’t know just how much he says with the things he doesn’t say”

“He told me I wasn’t making sense”

Lance could imagine. By default Krolia was quite brash, though she did have her secretive ways about her

“I’m sorry for waking you up. I didn’t... I mean, I could have cleaned this place up, but... Did I do the right thing? Not making a fuss? Or did I hurt Curtis more by downplaying it”

Krolia hummed as she looked around at the mess

“You were trying to help a friend”

“I know. He did so much for me. He’s done so much for me. He tried to stand up protect me... I hate that he... that he probably hates himself so much right now. I know what it’s like to lose control of your body, but my pain isn’t his and I can’t understand his pain. It’s funny. I spent years alone. In the past this wouldn’t have bothered me. I would have cleaned it up and not said anything to anyone. I don’t know how to explain to Keith that I’m nearly out of medication again”

“He’ll understand. He’s very understanding when it comes to you”

“I know. I know I burden him by being like this”

“Keith would be sad to hear that”

“I know that too. I mean, I know being a carer is hard. Watching the person you care for change more and more each day”

“Things well get better. I remember how hormonal I felt when pregnant with Keith. The worries of bring him into this world. The worries over my limitation of what I could do to protect him. His father was a mess. The slightest pain or discomfort and he panicked”

Lance snorted with a shake of his head. Like father like son. He loved Keith beyond measurable amounts and words. A single touch could settle his thoughts. A single smile left him all goopy inside. Absolutely anything Keith wanted, Lance wanted to be the one to give it to him. He wanted to continue to grow beside Keith. To nurture their relationship and grow with him. To face all the good and bad times together. He was now hiding one of those bad times from him. Keith needed rest, obviously. Falling asleep with Shiro beside him, the two must have had a good talk. If he told Keith later, he’d be upset he didn’t come to him right away, like how he hadn’t called when his sisters came to see him. The movies never showed how hard being with someone and planning to be with them forever was. Keith would get all moody when Lance pointed out that he needed the rest.

“Krolia, I’ll be back in a minute”

He couldn’t hide this from Keith. Keith needed to know that Lance knew he could turn to him, no matter the situation. Shiro really needed Keith’s support right now, and it’d be better for Keith to know the truth before they told Shiro

“Okay, but before you go, where’s the broom?”

“In the laundry. The dust pan is there too”

“Alrighty. You leave this to me. Wow, I even sound like a proper mother”

Krolia was a proper mother in her own way. She was certainly filling in the gaps of longing for maternal comfort after Mami passed in her own special Krolia way

“You are a proper mother. I won’t be too long”

Trudging up the stairs, Lance cursed them mentally. Today there seemed to be twice as many as there actually were, his back complaining as he straightened up, before promptly half slouching, trying to find that sweet spot where his muscles didn’t want to spasm. Yeah, he was round for his weekage. He felt he seemed rounder than Google showed he should be, but as long as that wasn’t hurting the twins he’d have to bare with it. Shuffling to his room, he found Keith and Shiro where he’d left them. Anxiety over what to say bubbled up, but now he’d made his mind up to tell Keith, he couldn’t turn and head back down those damn stairs empty handed.

Opting to sit on the bed next to his boyfriend, Lance stole a kiss. Keith looked so peaceful, adding to the guilt he already felt about waking him. Opting against shaking him awake and making him panic, Lance nuzzled into Keith’s cheek, pressing kisses to the soft skin brushing against his lips

“Babe, babe, I need you to wake up for me”

Keith was horrible at waking up, unless he either woke up naturally or he woke up with Lance straddling his lap for morning kisses and something more if they were in the mood

“Babe, please. I need you to wake up now”

Nosing a little harder, his boyfriend groaned at him sleepily

“Keith, I need you to wake up for me”

“Sleeeping”

“I know. I know but I need you to get up like right now”

The next groan Keith gave had no English translation

“I know. I need your help”

That seemed to work. Confused purple eyes squinting at him as Lance pulled back enough that Keith could see his face

“Babe?”

“Something happened. I need you to come with me”

“Wha... babies?”

Right. Keith had no clue why his precious sleep was being disturbed

“No. No, I’m okay. I just... I really need you to come with me right now”

“Whaaa... Shiro?”

Lance had the unfair advantage of knowing about the shit storm in his kitchen, that and being more awake than asleep

“He’s right here in bed, but... he can’t see this”

“Your scent... somethings...”

Yeah. His scent was doing its own thing, his eyes were filled with tears and the position hurt his back. Lance already knew he was far from fighting form

“I’ll explain, but... it’s easier to show you... I... I need you to come with me”

Getting Keith moving, his boyfriend was more of a hazard than the damn stairs. His boyfriend tripping on his own feet, leading Lance to catch him as he half leapt down, whimpering as his feet his the floor. With the shock shooting straight up his back, and his healing foot that he’d kind of half forgotten from his back pain, the landing was about as rad as the mess waiting. Yeah. Have a baby they said. It’ll all work out, they said. They didn’t warn him about all the hard work in the middle of it all

“Babe?”

Lance was holding Keith to hold himself up far more than Keith was holding him for the same reason

“I’m okay... my back’s sore, but I need to show you”

“You’re making me worried”

For Keith to have such a grasp on the English language his boyfriend must be internally freaking. Lance hadn’t exactly eased any of his worries

“I’m okay... physically, I’m okay. It’s Krolia... something happened. Not to her, but she’s helping and I... I need you right now”

Straightening himself, Keith moved from his side to standing in front of him. Moving to cup Lance’s cheek, it was more like a light slap as Keith sleepily tried to coordinate himself

“Babe, you’re worrying me. Just... tell me what happened”

“Curtis... he... well, it’s easier if I show you. It’s in the kitchen. Everyone’s alright, but... I’m... kind of... right now I need you to help me out because I’m out of my depth”

Keith’s “galaxy eyes” softened, nodding immediately

“Okay. Whatever it is, it’ll be okay”

“I really hope so... try not to freak out too much. The others are sleeping”

Keith went in front of him, Lance bumping into him when his boyfriend suddenly stopped

“What the fuck?!”

Lance flinched. Yeah. This wasn’t good. Not only was Keith blinded by the kitchen lights, he was forced to see pretty much the same things Lance had... other than the floor. Krolia hadn’t done a bad job of sweeping up the worst of it. Taking a deep breath, all his words came out like word vomit, seeking reassurance that he’d done the right thing by waking Keith and Krolia for help

“I woke up and the kitchen was like this. I didn’t want to wake you up but I didn’t want to hide this from you and I didn’t want you to feel like I was hiding things. I know you barely slept, and I know I woke mum up first, but I... This is my fault and I... I kind of really need you to help because I’m too freaked to adult right now”

“Keith! We meet again. Make yourself useful and get Lance sitting down again. Then you can start on the table while I start on sink”

Right. Blood on his table... Krolia seemed happy to have a helper that wasn’t him. It seemed his boyfriend had bonded more with Krolia during whatever talk they’d had. Lance had his own questions for Krolia, namely did she know about the ring box Keith kept in his drawer and what the fuck it meant for their relationship. Lance thought they’d agreed to wait, now had this additional little voice in his head telling him he should snoop and find out more. Having his boyfriend in the same space calmed his ego, letting him refocus on what needed to happen next

“You need to be careful getting blood out of wood. It would have already stained. Grab some paper towels to mop it up, then we’ll need to clean up what’s left as carefully as possible. We can cover the stain with a table cloth”

“Oh, great thinking! You really did snag a great man. Lance, I want you to sit back down again and finish that cup of tea. You’re still in shock”

He had to admit that he most certainly was still in shock. Keith sighing heavily as he looked to the floor

“Am I going to get glass in my feet?”

“Like Lance did? He really should be off his feet right now”

As Keith turned to him, Lance raised his hands in surrender

“I know. I’ll sit. I got the glass out and tossed it in the sink...”

“Why was there glass on the floor to begin with?”

Moving his left hand to the back of his head, he scratched his hair nervously

“Uh, well, you know...”

“Curtis smashed his medication”

“He did what?!”

Dobbed in by Krolia, Keith was instantly furious at the news. Lance had been trying to figure the right way to ease into the conversation, this was not it

“I have a few vials... you should probably leave the ones in the sink. My blood’s in there and we can’t risk infection”

“Right now I don’t give a fuck. Go back to bed, babe. We’ll fucking deal with this”

“But you’ve been up all night painting”

“And we’ll deal with this right now. Go lay down”

Lance was kind of unimpressed

“I can help”

“Babe, seriously, I’m about to lose my temper. You need that medication and he fucking knows if”

Bursting into tears again, Lance wept for his friend

“He can’t help it. You’ve seen what happens when I act out of ego. Hating him for this is as good as hating me”

Keith sighed, Lance drawn against him as his boyfriend kissed his hair, before relying

“I don’t hate him. I’m mad at the situation. This isn’t what I wanted to wake up to, but I’m glad you came and got me”

“I wanted you to know I rely on you. That I know I can rely on you”

“I know, babe. Can you please let me and mum handle this?”

“I can help. This is my house”

“I know it is, but this isn’t our first time cleaning up blood. You resting right now, is going to help me concentrate on getting this cleaned up”

“I don’t want to be a burden”

“Babe, you’re not a burden. I don’t want to lash out and I don’t want to say something to hurt you. Why don’t you wait in the office until we’re done? I promise I’ll come get you when this is cleaned up”

“But...”

“Babe, please?”

Lance couldn’t say no to Keith asking. He felt completely useless. He wanted Curtis to be happy. He wanted Keith to understand. He knew how Keith got when he was cranky, that meant he wanted to be there for him to help him through those feelings. But, if he was in the way...

“Okay. I trust you”

“And I love you”

“I love you, too. I’ll be in the office. I’m not up for the stairs right now”

In the office he could listen to what was happening. He’d have to content himself with that

“Okay. This shouldn’t take long. Then I’ll come cuddle the fuck out of you”

“You do give the best cuddles”

“I thought Hunk did?”

“Mmm... but you’re cuddles are different. I feel bad I woke you”

“You did the right thing. Now go rest, and don’t think I haven’t forgotten about your foot. I want to take a look at that too”

“Okay... Thank you”

“You’re welcome”

Closing the door to the office, Lance locked it behind him. Should Curtis wake up and attempt something, he didn’t know how he’d handle the idea of having to fight his friend. His instincts were such a mess that instead of standing up for himself, his body was telling him to put as much space between him and his friend as he could do nothing could happen to the twins. Sitting on the bed seemed to have an immediate effect. Lance moving to curl up under the covers. He missed his bed with all the blankets and the sense of security they brought, for now though, this was all he could do to feel safe.

[chicgeekgirl89]

Begin Again: Chapter 1

Fandom: SEAL Team

Characters: Lisa Davis, Sonny Quinn

Summary: After her brush with death, Lisa is a little less fine than she’d like to be. Takes place during and after “Siege Protocol.”

                                   XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Davis was hurt and Sonny could tell from her brusque manner and lack of eye contact that it hadn’t been some minor slip and fall on their way out of dodge. Something bad had happened at that safe house and not knowing was making his gut churn. “Hey, Blackburn.” He caught the commander’s attention. “What happened to Davis back there?”

“Run in with a rifle,” Eric said. “Things got hairy for a second. Coulda been a lot worse.”

Sonny tried not to think about what that might mean, death being one of the kindest options for an American woman captured in this part of the world. He wanted to check on her and make sure she was all right, but they were low on ammo and if he didn’t get together everything they had they were sitting ducks. Conversation was going to have to wait.

He was in the middle of counting mags when Jason bellowed for him, drawing him into the next room. The sight of Lisa being held up by Trent, blood dripping down her face turned his blood cold. “Everything okay?” he asked, trying to keep his voice calm even as panic lanced through his gut.

“Yeah get this thing working,” Jason said gruffly, yanking down a cable from the ceiling as Trent pulled Lisa from the room, still protesting in true Lisa fashion.

Once again what he really wanted was to follow Trent and make sure Lisa was all right. She could have a fractured skull or even a brain bleed if the impact had been hard enough and they were still hours away from help. His hands slipped and the cable dropped to the floor. He dove after it with a scowl and mentally shook himself. The faster they got things up and running, the safer all of them would be. He needed to get it under control. 

Clay walked in moments later, looking better now that Trent had stapled him up and gotten a little morphine in him. “Davis all right?” Jason asked immediately.

Apparently Sonny wasn’t the only one who was worried. Davis was a vital member of their team, not to mention a friend. Jason would make Lisa a priority, no matter what else was going on and Sonny felt a rush of gratitude toward his boss.

“She keeps saying she’s fine but she looks a little out of it. Trent thinks it’s a concussion. He’s got her on a drip,” Clay said.

Sonny let himself breathe. It was the best possible scenario given the situation. A concussion they could deal with. It meant she was mobile and not in danger of bleeding out. She would be fine until they could get her home to a real doctor.

It was all too easy for Sonny to find an excuse to stay behind as Jason rounded up the team for Mandy’s goose chase. His reasoning was legitimate, they needed to get their ammo situation under control, but he would have stayed either way; he wasn’t leaving Lisa alone again.

Trent caught his arm before they pulled out. “Keep an eye on Davis. I put her on another drip but she’s probably not going to keep it in.”

Sonny nodded. “You got it.”

Sure enough the next time he saw her she was back to work, still fiddling with their tech, doing who knew what with it. His first attempt at conversation went over poorly. He couldn’t tell if it was because she was annoyed at him for hovering or because she was hurting and trying not to let on. So he decided to go for a more jovial approach.

He knocked before entering, trying not to spook her. “You know uh, typically we push the rifle barrel away with our hands and not our head.” 

It got him half a smile. Not what he was looking for. He decided to push his luck a little further. “Huh, you know I uh, I really wish I was there Davis. We had just gotten to the safe house ten minutes sooner…”

She shook her head. “That’s not your job. It’s on me to have my back.”

She was blaming herself, which was completely ridiculous. From what he’d gleaned from Blackburn and Mandy she’d practically dismantled their entire setup single handed. “Everybody’s gotta have their six covered from time to time.”

Her eyes went back to her screen without giving a response. “You gotta ease up on yourself,” he urged, stepping a little closer.

She looked up at him and the pain in her eyes knocked the air right out of his lungs. “You know, I thought I was gonna die Sonny. Right there on the floor.”

He touched her shoulder then cupped her face, thumb stroking gently at her hair. He couldn’t help it. She needed him right now and to be honest he felt a little unsteady himself. Thinking of her, lying on the floor in a pool of her own blood…he swallowed hard. “I swear to you, I woulda burnt this city to the ground.”

Blackburn returned and Sonny dropped his hand. His emotions were all tangled up again in a way he couldn’t quite deal with right now, but if he’d helped her even a little it was worth it. Maybe they could do this friend thing again after all. It clearly didn’t work to pretend they didn’t care. So maybe a little friendship now and again would ease the pain of losing each other.

Her head was throbbing, but it was nothing compared to her wounded ego. She had been the weak link today and she was furious about it. She’d let her guard drop for half a second and then had to be rescued like some helpless damsel in a children’s story. It was an image she’d worked hard to avoid her entire career and she could barely look at anyone for the shame and heat that flooded her at what they must be thinking. 

It didn’t help that every, single person who walked by did a double take and immediately started questioning her health and wellbeing. How many times did you have to say you were fine before people left you the hell alone? Apparently the answer was “a lot.” And they’d probably still bother you after that.

Her life hadn’t flashed before her eyes like some cliché movie or television show. There hadn’t been time for that. Instead she’d had exactly one thought, crystal clear and completely agonizing: Sonny. Just his name. And the feeling that she wished it had gone differently. And the desperate, panicked thought that she wished he would come through the door and save her.

Not that she was disappointed it had been Eric instead. She was grateful. But also embarrassed. All she wanted was to go home, take a long shower, and sleep for a week. But they weren’t out of the woods yet, not by a long shot, and god damn it she was going to get them out of this mess if it killed her.

Which it might. She was standing on a desk, reaching to try and get some cables connected when the world went grey and she felt her knees giving out. She was vaguely of aware of Jason catching her and pulling her down, but the only thought she was holding onto was that she had to get the Satcom up. They were blind without it. She wouldn’t be the weak link. Not again. Not ever.

“Breathe,” Jason ordered, and she tried, she really tried, but her heart was beating rapidly inside her chest and she was so incredibly dizzy she thought she might be sick.

She didn’t want to go with Trent, she wanted to stay and help, but apparently she didn’t have a choice in the matter. She stumbled along with him into the next room, his arms the only thing keeping her from pitching to the floor because her legs seemed to have completely turned to jelly. “Easy now,” he said, as she practically collapsed onto a bed.

Sitting helped. “I’m fine,” she told him as Clay got up from his own bed, concern written all over his face. She hated being on the receiving end of that look.

“Davis, what the hell happened?” Clay asked.

“I just—“ She felt bile rising up in her throat and clamped her lips shut, grabbing onto the bed frame to keep herself upright, trying to force the sick feeling away.

Trent checked her eyes, probed at the wound, and then he and Clay decided to tag team their interrogation which made her really snippy. She knew she was being rude and childish, but it was annoying as hell, especially when she was so mad at herself. She would have to apologize when they finally got out of here. 

The IV did help some and she managed to get upright in time to help the team prep to head out, but she still felt unsteady on her feet. “How are you?” Trent asked before he headed out.

“I’m good,” she said. Her head was a little light but her vision was fine and who wouldn’t be nauseous in a situation like this?

He didn’t buy it, grabbing her elbow and steering her back into the treatment room. “You need another bag.” He hooked her up and then fixed her with a stern look. “Don’t move until this is empty. I’m going to tell Blackburn I started you on a second drip.”

“Okay, fine,” Lisa said.

“You need to relax.”

“I’ll just pretend I’m at the spa.” She gave him a fake smile and the look he gave back to her said he didn’t believe it for a second.

She ripped out the IV as soon as he was gone. Nobody had told Clay he had to sit around even though the man had a chest full of staples. She felt fine enough and if she had to lie to Blackburn about it���well as long as she kept herself upright he would never know.

She settled in behind the computer, picking up right where she’d left off before Trent had dragged her away. It wasn’t a surprise that Sonny found her there. What was a surprise was how she felt about it. All she’d wanted was to be left alone to wallow and shove her feelings so deep inside there was no chance they’d ever come back out again.

But then he went and made her smile. When she’d been pretty sure nothing would ever make her smile again. That stupid, Sonny Quinn charm cut through the darkness and the eyes he turned on her were so tender, and she was hurting so bad, and she found all of her feelings about the day bubbling back up. 

“You know, I thought I was gonna die Sonny. Right there on the floor.” She felt tears building as she said the words, as she admitted to him, and him alone, how truly terrified she’d been. And when he touched her, oh god, all she wanted to was to fall weeping into his arms. She craved his strength, his steadiness, the sense of safety and belonging she felt with him. 

When Eric came back Sonny pulled away and they all went back to work. But a small kernel of hope settled inside her chest. Maybe, just maybe, she and Sonny could be friends again after all. 

[bffhreprise]

Entry 344

 Watching Dani solve crazy puzzles while chatting with the others, I was really glad no one had ever put me through all that work for my birthday.  Dani seemed to be enjoying herself, but all of the time spent searching for presents took away from time spent enjoying the presents!  If anyone shared my thoughts, they weren’t bringing them up, so I kept my mouth shut, other than to comment about how incredibly smart the girl was.  Deyanira would have loved seeing this.  Maybe Mila will show her a recording when she arrives.

 “What was that?” asked one of the twins.

 “Just a little spell I taught him on our honeymoon.  He was letting Dani know his parents are here.” explained Alma, looking weirdly natural with a smile.  “You'd be amazed how much he's taught me as well.”

 “What?” questioned the other twin in blatant disbelief.

 James, smirking at her, asked, “Mila, mind showing me of what Jarod's buckle is composed?”

 A diagram of the belt buckle appeared on a different mirror than the one showing Dani’s hunt.  Looking at the chemical formulas, I was just glad I didn’t have any job that had me reviewing chemistry.  There was little chance such a job would come to me in the first place, but…  I could imagine the pay would be extra good.  Everyone knew Jarod’s average job paid far more than most of ours, but the stuff he did was way out there.  Well, everything he did in that lab of his was way out there.  Sometimes I wondered how a guy like that was still so down to Earth, but he was a great pal, watching James with interest.

 After a few seconds of looking at the diagram, James turned around and glanced at Jarod’s belt.

 “Have a problem with my…  Whoa!  Is this real gold!?” asked Jarod in shock as he caught sight of his new bling.

 My mouth was hanging open.  There had been no transition I could see.  One moment his belt was a typical silver, and then it was gold.

 “That has to be an illusion.  Transforming substances accurately is impossible.” asserted a twin.

 “You'll have to change if he doesn't dismiss it.  That doesn't work with your outfit.” insisted the other one.

 Not doubting James for a second, I quickly exclaimed “I'll take some bling!”

 From off to my side, Dejon asked “Is that how you became so rich?”

 “No.  I wasn't nearly so capable with that type of magic before my honeymoon.” replied James with a smile.

 With one of the twins bent over to examine the buckle, I kept my eyes carefully elsewhere, not wanting my friend to think I was enjoying the view too much  

 Patting her back, Jarod said, “I'll do an analysis on it later.”

 “Should be roughly fourteen karat.” stated James.  “I didn't feel too much gold would be good for a buckle, but I wanted to pay for the inconvenience.”  He playfully winked, but still didn’t reply to me.

As Jarod laughed, I waved my hand in James’ view.  “Seriously.  I don’t mind pure gold.” I told him, picturing myself with a number of shiny adornments.

 “And where would you sell it?” questioned my sis, frowning at me as if I had done something wrong.

 “Sell it?  I really want the bling.” I assured her.  “I figure Jarod or Mila will probably help touch it up as needed.”

 She just rolled her eyes, acting put upon by my tastes.

 Catching my eye, Alma looked almost like her previous self as she said, “You can afford your own bling without troubling my husband.”  Even those words didn’t quite have the kick they did before her honeymoon.  There wasn’t really any hint of danger in her tone.

 “Troubling?  He made that look easy!” insisted Dejon, who surprisingly seemed to be taking my side.

 “The spell was incredibly complex and took a large amount of energy, so not easy by any standard I recognize.” argued one of the twins, who probably had actually watched the spell.

 Sometimes, I did wish I had a knack for using that type of magic, especially when James did something unbelievable, but most of the descriptions sounded like so much work.

 “You really must get used to watching magic around you.” insisted the other twin as she frowned at me.

 As far as I knew, no one had a clue I had ever even seen the energy.  I was taking that secret to my grave if I got to keep skipping out on magic practice.

 Before I could reply, both sets of double doors opened, revealing James’ parents strolling inside.

 “Good morning.” stated Mr. Somerset as he carried a large present into the house.

 Mrs. Somerset waved and asked “Where's the birthday girl?”

 All of us looked up at the screen where Dani seemed deep in conversation with the little fairy from the forest.

 “She has apparently been distracted.  Alma and I hid her presents throughout the yard and house with clues where to find them.” explained James to his folks.

 Alma grinned as she said, “I blame Aaliyah.  She's the one who told us that simply handing over gifts from us was too boring for our daughter.”

 “Dani enjoys the puzzles.” insisted James somewhat defensively.  Seeing him interact with his parents was refreshing, reminding us that he really was still human.  More often than not, he seemed… greater.

 “Jarod, dear, that buckle really doesn't go well with your shirt.” commented Mrs. Somerset, catching sight of the bling.

 “Blame your son.” complained Ai and Mai in unison as they stared daggers at James.

 “Yeah, well… I felt like demonstrating a spell the twins would find difficult, and turning his belt buckle to gold qualified in my mind.” replied James, still sounding defensive.

 Mr. Somerset just shook his head as he said, “Your mother's right, you do have the golden touch.”

 I laughed with the rest.  Who could argue when James was making the company flourish.

 “Happy birthday!” exclaimed Mrs. Somerset, stepping over to embrace Dani.

 With the birthday girl back inside, we had a wonderful breakfast at the long kitchen table with even more varieties of food available than normal.  If not for the few of us with bottomless pits, so much food would go to waste daily.  Over breakfast, Dani pleased with Mr. Somerset to join her in the hunt for presents.  Kayla, of course, couldn’t be left out when Dani’s pleas made the hunt sound so excited.  She almost even had me convinced, but my stuffed belly helped to keep me seated.

 Mrs. Somerset followed the rest of us into the ballroom, where some of us discretely logged into Ancient Tribes of Earth while occasionally glancing over to see how Dani was doing.  I doubted I even got to play for an hour before Dani came inside, but I was looking forward to seeing her reaction to my present.  Despite James, and even Alma, assuring us that we didn’t have to get Dani anything, no one wanted to be the one person who didn’t.

 Knowing that Dani was bound to already have any serious gift I could dream up giving her, I went with a gag gift, surprisingly the only one.  Dani was surprisingly delighted when turning the handle produced music, but seeing her jump as the clown popped out was hilarious!  The shock and slowly-spreading grin were fantastic!  The look she gave as she recovered and thanked me made me a little nervous, but I doubted she’d could one-up me on gags.  Despite seeming almost as old as most of us, Dani had obviously lived in a very secluded part of the world.  Someone with her looks and vibrant skin would have hit the net the day she entered a city if she hadn’t been in the middle of nowhere.

 My jaw dropped open when I had found out that Dani had never seen Star Wars.  As was tradition here, all of us showed up in the theater with full costumes, slightly improved from last time.  Jarod and the twins were oddly in agreement against wearing exactly the same thing twice.  Jarod loved to tinker too much to not make any adjustments on the sabers and utility belts.  The twins were just fashion nuts, two of the few people willing to spend hours talking with Brenna about her modeling jobs.  No kid of mine would ever do modeling, not when there were so many more entertaining things to do.

 Dani was prone to loud exclamations throughout the first movie.  She was probably thinking that she could easily take some of the Jedi in a fight.  With James dressed as Darth Vader, who was going to argue if she declared war on the rest of us?  

 A spontaneous fight broke out after the first movie as a few of us had restroom breaks.  I had expected as much and was raring to go, charging at one of the twins with my lightsaber.  That… didn’t go so well.  I did manage to get a sneaky attack in on Sis before Emma cut me down.  Avoiding Dani turned out as a safe plan than actually fighting the girl for me.

 First off, Dani knew basically nothing about Force powers, having only seen a tiny bit from Episode IV.  She had hurled fire in a couple different ways that seemed unbefitting the force, and she actually threw some real electricity instead of an illusion of it another time.  Then there were the magical traps she had made on the fly…  James straightened her out each time before anyone was injured, but I still felt safer fighting on the other side of the room as her.

 After a good battle, we all had some lunch, which was an even grander affair than breakfast had been.  The fight coming back a little in the kitchen ended with us all being sent to the dining hall.  Marco was adamant that his kitchen would not have any sort of fighting, and James backed him up immediately, apologizing for all of us.

 Though they had plans to head back home after lunch, Dani had easily persuaded her grandparents into staying for another movie… and then another.  When dinner was over, they finally were allowed to leave, with Alma convincing Dani that they really didn’t want to spend the night here, not when they had plans for the next day already.

 Surprisingly, we didn’t hit the prequels after Mr. and Mrs. Somerset left.  Dancing was apparently something people did in the middle of nowhere for birthdays, and Dani could really dance.  None of us had a problem with showing off some moves, since our dance parties were a bit rare, but I doubted I was the only one pointedly keeping my eyes off the Boss’ daughter whenever I wasn’t dancing with her.  Even Deyanira, who had shown up for dinner with a necklace for Dani, admitted that there was something about how Dani moved when we were alone later.  Yep, life here was never dull.

[freddiesaysalright]

Catching Up Part IX

A Joe Mazzello x Reader Fic

Summary: Reader is a writer for an entertainment news network and after Joe comes in to do an interview, they reconnect. Unexpectedly, they’re having a child together.

Word Count: 2.7K

Tag List: @crazylittlethingcalledobsession @jennyggggrrr @somethinginthewayiam @grandaddy-roger-trash @rogerloveshiscar @hopefully-aesthetically-pleasing @danamaleksworld @mrsmazzello @reedusteinrambles @rexorangecouny @caborhapch @kurt-nightcrawler @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls @queendeakyy @hotttspace @anxious-diabetic @someone-get-a-medic  If you want to be added, let me know!

Part I  Part II  Part III  Part IV  Part V

Part VI  Part VII  Part VIII

A/N: No worries, things are cheering up in this one :)

Part IX here we go!

That night was one you long considered one of the worst of your life. No matter what Joe tried, you couldn’t move past the anxiety and humiliation of what Nick had done. You knew you had to settle your heart rate, but nothing helped. And you couldn’t take anything because most medication wasn’t safe for the baby. Joe just held you as your body heaved with sobs. You stayed awake the whole night, crying and agonizing over where to go from here. When day broke again, you were still an absolute mess.

Joe urged you to go forward pressing charges, and he suggested adding this to the list. But you weren’t sure. You hardly felt like leaving your apartment, much less like confronting the man who’d done this. It was going to take so much of you and you weren’t sure you could handle it. It felt like too much. It was all too big and you were so small.

“If this happened to our child,” Joe said. “What would you want them to do?”

You had to stop and take another breath. The thought of anyone doing something like this to your baby made you so mad you spit nails, but you considered it. You would want your son or daughter to tell the Nicks in their lives to get fucked, and do everything in their power to put them away.

“I’d want them to press charges,” you said. “That is if I hadn’t already killed the person responsible.”

He chuckled. “Let’s hope we never face that. I’d miss you if you went to prison.”

You giggled, and finally, your body began to ease. You were backing slowly away from the edge now, Joe at your side, ever the comfort.

“I really have to do this, huh?” you wondered.

Joe nodded. “You can do it, baby. You’ve already come so far. You faced him at the precinct, and you can face him again. Pictures be damned.”

“I’m really scared,” you admitted.

“Well, you’re not going alone,” he assured you. “I’ll be there. Christy will be there. And of course little Baby will be with you.”

Your mouth turned upward in a small smile as you looked down at your little bump. “I’m gonna be strong for you, little one.”

“I love that you talk to him,” Joe said. “I think that’s so sweet.”

“I feel like it makes me a little bit crazy,” you returned.

“You’re not crazy,” he said. “You’re amazing.”

You knew he was talking about more than just the baby. You leaned into him and you actually started to feel drowsy now that you were calmed down.

“I feel so lucky,” you said as you closed your eyes.

“You do?” he questioned.

“To have found you again,” you explained. “That through all of this, I have you.”

“I’m the lucky one,” he replied. “That out of everyone in the world, I found the one girl I never stopped thinking about. And now we’re having a baby together.”

You smiled, unable to ward off sleep any longer. As the sun lit up the room, you and Joe found your rest in each other.

When you turned up at work on Monday, Don immediately called you into his office. Nervous, you sat down across from him. He looked so serious. Not in his usual way, either. If you didn’t know any better, you would have guessed he was going to tell you that someone died. You waited for him to speak.

“So, over the weekend, I received some photographs,” he said.

Your head fell forward as a wave of embarrassment came over you. Taking a deep breath, you told Don everything. He listened carefully, trying to understand the situation. When you finished, you tried to gauge his reaction, but his expression was difficult to read. For a moment, you expected him to dismiss you. You wouldn’t blame him if he did.

“Y/N,” he began, and you were surprised by the gentleness of his tone. “I’m so sorry this is happening to you. If there is anything I or the company can do to help you through this let me know. Our legal team is excellent, and I’ll speak to them about protections for you.”

You gaped at him, stunned. When Nick did this the first time, your boss fired you immediately. It was why you wrote under a byline now. Now Don - who was usually kind of an asshole - was offering understanding and support.

“You’re being...awfully gracious about this,” you said.

“I did a story a few years ago on revenge porn,” he told you. “I saw first hand the effects of it. Now I understand your thing with cameras. I’m sorry for the way I treated you. I won’t ask you to do that again.”

“Don…”

“Don’t thank me or anything,” he said. “Just give him hell in court on Thursday, okay?”

You couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah, okay.”

All too soon, the day was upon you. The first court date. Part of you hoped that Nick wouldn’t show up. If it were only up to him, you knew he wouldn’t, but his mother paid his bail, so she would ensure he went so she wouldn’t be stuck with the cost. The prosecutor approached you and went over what you would need to do. It wasn’t much. Just tell your story. It helped that since he’d left jail, he got an armed robbery charge added to his rap sheet, so the indictment would be pretty easy. Joe and Christy squeezed your hands with encouragement.

Your stomach turned, but not in a way you were familiar with. It wasn’t even really your stomach. It was the baby. You gasped at the sensation of it moving around. Joe and Christy exchanged worried glances.

“Joe, feel,” you said, putting his hand there. You applied some pressure.

“Holy shit” he gasped. “The baby’s already moving?”

You nodded. “I’ve never felt it before…”

He laughed with joy and it took all your willpower not to kiss him. But the moment was stolen when the prosecutor called you inside.

It went like the prosecutor said. It took a couple hours and was mostly waiting. But he secured the indictment and there would be another court date in the fall unless Nick took a plea bargain. He didn’t seem interested in that, but for now, he was returning to jail to wait. You felt a little safer. Thankfully, throughout the process, he didn’t try to talk to you. He acted like you weren’t even in the room. You were grateful. You still had nightmares about the way he screamed at you that day, and the cold shoulder was preferred. He did shoot Christy a few glares across the room though. She very subtly flipped him off.

When it was over, you felt a little better, but you didn’t look forward to going through this again and in front of a jury. For now though, you could relax. The weight was lifted for the moment.

“I’m proud of you,” Joe said, kissing your cheek as you walked out of the courthouse.

“It’s just the first step,” you replied. “I feel like there’s still all this way to go.”

“But you did it,” Christy said. “I’m going to meet my sweetie for some food. You guys wanna join us?”

You shook your head. “I’m exhausted. I just want to go home.”

“Alright,” she said. “I’ll see you later.”

She gave you and Joe hugs as she said goodbye. Then she bent down to speak to your tummy.

“Bye, Baby!” she cooed.

With a final wave, she walked to her waiting Uber. You and Joe made your way to your car. He held your door open and then got in the driver’s seat. You sighed. You were ready to sleep, even though it was early evening.

“We have one stop I wanna make before going back to your place,” Joe said.

“Where’s that?” you wondered.

“Our house,” he told you. “I got the keys while you were at work yesterday.”

“Really?” you gasped. “It’s ready?”

He nodded. “Pretty much. I know we have a lot of time since your lease isn’t up until August, but I want you to see it.”

You smiled lazily. “I want to see it. Take my mind off of all of this.”

He took your hand he drove out there. You didn’t talk for most of the ride because you were so tired. You closed your eyes, the city disappearing behind your lids, and dozed. Joe woke you when he pulled into the little driveway of your house. It was a beautiful brick residence, with a white front door and a cast iron railing going up the porch steps.

“I love it,” you said.

He chuckled. “You haven’t even seen the best part.”

He helped you out of the car and together you walked inside. The inside was equally stunning. Hard wood floors gleamed in the light. The kitchen counters - which were granite - sparkled and shined. The windows were large, so plenty of natural light got into each room. He took you upstairs and showed you the master bedroom, which was a great size. It had two more bedrooms of smaller sizes, but were also charming.

“I figured those could be the kids’ rooms,” he said as he led you around.

“Kids?” you questioned. “Plural?”

“Well, we’re gonna have more, right?” he said.

“I guess so,” you returned playfully. “But let’s focus on the first one.”

“I am!” he insisted. “I just...I dunno, I think about our future a lot.”

“How many do you want?” you asked.

“Two would be perfect,” he told you. “A boy and a girl. And we’d have a dog too - a golden retriever since they’re so gentle, y’know? This place is great since there’s a small yard, but there’s also a park down the road. There’s a spare room downstairs I figured could be a guest room for when the grandparents or Christy visit.”

You giggled. As you looked around the house, you saw it too. The life you could build with Joe. In this house. It all came together around you. You imagined the family photos on the walls. How it might look decorated for Christmas. The kids running down the hall, laughing.

“Joe, it’s perfect,” you said.

“Think about this,” he told you. “When you’re feeling overwhelmed. Remember what you’re picturing now, and focus on that.” He cradled your face in his hands and kissed your forehead.

“I love you so much,” you whispered.

“I love you too,” he returned holding you close now.

You stood in the second floor hallway, holding each other. This ordeal with Nick was a passing thing. Joe, and everything he had given you, that was forever. You would hold on to that.

Summer pressed on, and your belly grew even more. Joe left two more times in the five weeks before the doctor’s appointment where you would find out the sex of the baby. He promised he would be there for that. In the meantime, you began packing up your apartment. Christy was supportive, and told you that she and her boyfriend were discussing living together, so the timing was actually perfect. She did say she would come over plenty to see the baby. It was the end of an era for you both, but you were excited for the new things in each other’s lives.

You also worked on taking pictures of yourself. You really liked Snapchat because the pictures were deleted after opening and that made you more comfortable. Although, Joe frequently got screenshots of your silliest faces. You got him back, but his Snapchats were so often hilarious, you had to stop or you’d run out of space on your phone.

You were also monitoring your growth each week. You took those pictures just for you, but you showed them to Joe when he was in town. He was astounded by it, even though the changes were minimal right now. He also made sure to tell you how beautiful he found you.

Finally, twenty weeks came. You were so ready to discover the sex, although you guessed it was a boy. Christy thought it was a girl. Joe said he hoped it was a boy, but only because you already had a name picked out for a boy, and neither of you could decide on girl names. The problem was that there were too many that you loved.

As usual, you watched the screen and this time it looked more like a baby, especially in profile. Looking straight on was a different sight, for sure. Still, you were excited. You squeezed Joe’s hand in anticipation.

“Would you like to know the sex?” Dr. Jones asked.

“Yes, please!” you and Joe said together.

She chuckled. “It’s a boy.”

You and Joe beamed at each other. You started laughing, overcome with joy.

“A boy,” you sighed, still taking it in. “I knew it.”

“Congratulations,” Dr. Jones said as Joe kissed you swiftly on the lips. She glanced at your chart again and her smile faltered.

“What is it?” you asked. “Is something wrong?”

“It’s not something to worry too much about,” she said. “But your blood pressure is higher than normal. Blood pressure does rise during pregnancy, but this is above average. Are you experiencing any unusual stress?”

You and Joe exchanged an almost amused look. Where could you even begin?

“Well, I just had to press charges against my ex-boyfriend,” you said. “There’s another court date coming up in October. The father of my child is in and out of town. I’m moving in less than a month. On top of all of that, I’m still working and carrying a baby.”

“That is a lot,” she said seriously. “I need you to find ways to destress because high blood pressure can lead to problems during delivery. You can take baby aspirin to help, but don’t rely too much on that.”

“What can I do to destress?” you wondered.

“That’s up to you,” she replied. “If you need to do a face mask and take a bath every night then do so. Are you two still having sex regularly?”

“Oh, yeah,” Joe said.

“That’s good,” she said with a smile. “Sex can relieve a lot of stress as long as both partners reach orgasm. But on the days when he’s not there, you’ll still need to make an effort to keep yourself calm.”

“She struggles with anxiety,” he added.

“Joe!” you hissed.

“It’s important that she knows,” he insisted.

“He’s right,” Dr. Jones agreed. “I see you’re not taking anything for it, and I recommend that you don’t right now. What do you usually do to get through an anxiety attack?”

“Joe shows me stupid YouTube videos,” you explained.

“Then watch stupid YouTube videos as well,” she said. “Whatever reminds you that the problems you’re facing aren’t nearly as big as your brain is telling you they are.”

“Okay, we can do that,” you assured her.

“Now, I don’t want to add to your stress, but I’m going on a trip for a few months,” she said. “I’m going to be in Kenya until January, teaching and helping out in their hospitals. I’ve gotten another doctor, Dr. Chris Barrow, to cover my patients. He’s in surgery today, but he’ll meet you for your next appointment. Are you okay with having a man as your doctor?”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” you said. “I think it’s amazing what you’re doing. Will you be back for the delivery?”

She nodded. “Yes. Dr. Barrow will assist me for your delivery. So, the next time I see you, we will all be meeting your son.”

You squealed with delight. “Thank you so much!”

“Really,” Joe agreed, shaking her hand. “We’re so excited.”

“I’m excited too,” she said. “Be careful, and be sure to stay relaxed! If you need anything that Dr. Barrow can’t get you, I’ll have email.”

You thanked her again before you left. When you got outside you looked at Joe.

“We’re having a son!” you cried, throwing your arms around his neck.

“I know!” he shouted, spinning you around. “A beautiful baby boy!”

“Joseph Francis Mazzello IV,” you said, rubbing a hand down your belly. “I can’t wait to meet you.”

[heyyy-hey-babyyy]

When We Were Young (part IX)

Dean x Fem!Reader; Sam x Fem!Reader (platonic)

Read part I here ; Read part II here ; Read part III here ;

Read part IV here ; Read part V here ; Read part VI here ;

Read part VII here ; Read part VIII here

Warnings: Angst, Mentions of trauma/abuse, brief moments of self-harm, mentions of anxiety attack, *moments of assault*

**This chapter contains mentions of assault. Please be aware if this is trigging for you!

B/N: I’m getting a little lost in my own timeline, so apologies for any inaccuracies... All mistakes I claim as my own.

Summary: Dean, Sam, and Y/N grew up together, but when she’s taken away for over 10 years, the boys have no idea what she’s been through. Will asking her to move into the bunker with them reveal more than she’s ready for?

Cas stood abruptly as Dean came down the stairs, rubbing at his eyes with the palms of his hands. He was exhausted, but it wasn’t in him to even think about sleeping when a monster was still very much on the loose. Sam remained seated on the couch, his head resting in his hands, looking every bit as exhausted and distraught as Dean felt. From the living room, Dean could see Bobby sitting at his desk nursing a glass of amber liquid, sure to be whiskey of some kind. Dean wanted to stay level headed for the moment, but would no doubt fall asleep with a bottle of his own later. 

“Dean,” Cas nodded toward him, offering him his seat on the couch next to his brother, but Dean waved him off, choosing to stand, crossing his arms over his chest. Cas nodded curtly recognizing that Dean was waiting for him to tell the story. 

“While we were speaking, Dean, I heard a woman’s voice asking God to save her from her pain. As you know, I have never spoken with Y/N and I do not know her, but I felt that she was the woman you, Sam, and Bobby were looking for. And she was in profound pain. So I left without word. I do apologize for that, Dean.” Cas gave Dean his signature sorrowful eyes, head tilt thrown in, and Dean waved him off again, letting him know it was fine and that he should continue. Cas didn’t break eye contact with Dean, and though it unnerved him, he let the man continue to stare while he told the story. 

“When I arrived, I was in some sort of underground dungeon in western South Dakota. The building above was abandoned, but the dungeon was very much operational. I appeared directly in front of the woman who had prayed for me, who I realized had to be Y/N. I introduced myself as Castiel, angel of the Lord, and healed her---” 

Dean held up a hand to stop him abruptly, and Cas shut his mouth instantly. “What kind of wounds did she have, Cas?” Sam looked up at his brother questioningly, and Dean merely shook his head telling him silently to ‘leave it.’ Cas looked uncomfortable with the question, but answered anyway, knowing evading Dean was impossible, when he wanted answers. 

“She was chained up by the wrists, so I healed the burns and scrapes from the shackles. It appeared that she spent a few hours on her knees, so I healed the scrapes and swelling there...” Cas trailed off, hoping he wouldn’t have to continue, and glancing at the older Winchester. Though Dean looked distraught, he motioned for Cas to keep talking. Cas took in a huge breath of air before continuing. 

“She had a few internal injuries that seemed to have come from rough intercourse and I healed those wounds as well.” 

Sam stood to his feet, pacing around the living room with an angry look on his face. When Dean glanced into the office, he saw that Bobby was gone, having walked away when Cas finished his retelling. Sam continued to pace back and forth looking like he wanted to punch someone or something, and Cas looked ashamed and guilty for his side of the situation. Dean placed a hand on his shoulder, silently thanking him, and Cas nodded once in response. 

“Do you know where the monster went, Cas?” Sam asked finally, turning to face the two men, his eyebrows creased together in thought. Cas merely shook his head before speaking. 

“I wrapped Y/N in my coat and came instantly back here. I apologize, I should have investigated more, but it didn’t seem like any creature or human was present at the scene when I appeared.” Sam nodded, continuing to pace and Dean clapped Cas on the back again with a quick, “it’s not your fault.” Cas nodded again, when he suddenly became serious, a far-off look in his eye. 

“Y/N is waking up, Dean. I can feel her anxiety.” Dean nodded, leaving the two men and Bobby, wherever he was, to deal with the next steps, as he bounded up the stairs toward where Y/N was. 

---------

When you woke, you realized you recognized the room, but you still felt fear and adrenaline course through your veins, realizing the last thing you remember was being shackled to the ceiling in Greg’s dungeon. You didn’t sit up, but began to sob remembering the day you just had, which felt like a lifetime ago. Though you didn’t feel any pain, the memories of the dungeon were etched permanently into your memory, and you gasped shooting into a sitting position when you remembered what Greg had done to you... What he made you think Dean did to you. Dean. 

As if you had actually called out for him, Dean appeared in the doorway, and you shrunk back some into the bed, your mind screaming at you to run. Dean seemed a bit shocked to see you sitting up in bed, and came toward you slowly. 

“Stop.” You said lowly, but Dean didn’t hear you, taking a few more steps toward you. 

“Stop!” You repeated loudly, hearing heavy footsteps bounding up the stairs in response to your yells. 

“Dean,” You repeated exasperated, needing to find some way to tell that it was really him, despite your body telling you to run far away from him. Sam, Cas, and Bobby appeared at the door, and you relaxed. 

“Can I talk to Sam? Alone.” You spit out, seeing the light go out behind Dean’s eyes. You felt horrible, but he would need to understand, and would fully understand soon, you just needed to talk to someone. Though Castiel would be a good candidate being that he found you, you were leery of the angel as well, especially now as he stared at you with those bright blue eyes. Dean nodded, turning on his heel and ushering the angel and whiskey drunk Bobby away from the door. 

Sam came fully into the room and closed the door behind him, before approaching the bed. Tears began to well in your eyes as you thought about telling Sam the truth of what happened to you, and you launched yourself into his arms, pulling yourself into his lap so you could bury your head into the crook of his shoulder and neck, breathing in the scent of home. Sam wrapped his arms tight around you and held you close to him, finally breathing after hours of worrying. 

In Sam’s firm hold, you let yourself fall apart. “What am I going to do, Sam?” You wailed, sobbing harder thinking about the look on Dean’s face when you essentially kicked him out of the room. You had to find a way to know that he was the real Dean. It should be him comforting you right now, you thought to yourself.

“Tell me what happened, Y/N.” Though it wasn’t a question, Sam’s voice was gentle and even. “Tell me what happened, and I’ll help.” 

You pulled away from him a bit, looking into dark blue eyes, gathering your strength from the younger hunter, who had been through so much in his life as well. 

“He posed as Dean, Sam... He took my worst fears and heightened them to something I could never even imagine.” Sam didn’t look shocked at your confession, but nodded his head, understanding where your confusion was coming from. 

You hiccuped a little controlling your tears for the moment. “Dean would never hurt me.” You stated more to yourself than anything, but you knew mantras and words would never ease the panic you felt deep in your veins when you saw Dean standing in the doorway. 

Sam nodded again understanding, digging in his front pocket. You looked at him questioningly before he spoke. 

“None of us would ever hurt you, Y/N. I know you know this in your soul, but I recognize not being able to convince your mind that Dean isn’t the shifter with what you’ve been through.” He looked at you seriously, and though you saw emotion, none of it was pity, and you thanked him silently with your eyes.

“You don’t have to take only my word, I can show you both your dad, my dad, and Bobby’s journals that confirm, but silver makes a shifters skin burn, much like holy water on a demon.” You looked deep into Sam’s eyes, knowing he would never lie to you, but wanting the confirmation anyway. Seeing that he had your attention, he held up a simple silver ring, looking away guiltily before continuing. 

“When we lost you, I was afraid something like this would happen. That the shifter would pose as someone close to you to hurt you, so I had Bobby find me a silver ring. Wear this, and if you are ever unsure if one of us is a shifter you can simply grab our arms and wait for the sizzle.” He smiled softy when you grabbed the ring and slipped it onto your right hand ring finger, feeling a weight lift off your body a bit, knowing you were that much safer with this on your body. 

“Thank you, Sam.” You responded simply, wrapping one arm around his neck, and the other grabbing his wrist lightly, testing the touch of the silver against his skin. He chuckled under your hold, and you both watched his arm for any sort of reaction, even though you knew there wouldn’t be. You looked satisfied, so he lifted you lightly off of his lap and stood, gesturing toward the door.

“Do you want to test the ring more?” You glanced down at the simple silver circle and nodded, wanting more than anything to be in Dean Winchester’s arms. The real Dean Winchester.

—————

When Sam told Dean that Y/N wanted to see him, he looked skeptical, staring silently at his brother and asking him ‘why now?’ Sam simply pointed toward the stairs and told his brother to “go,” indicating that he would find out soon enough. 

Dean finished the whiskey in his glass in one large gulp, gaining a bit of courage to face the woman who he wanted nothing more than to hold, but had kicked him out moments before. 

Dean looked anxious as he stood in the door, waiting for you to tell him what his next move should be, and you motioned for him to come sit on the bed with you. He hesitated, but stepped forward slowly, like he had before, perching on the very end of the bed, as far away from you as he could get, and still be on the bed. You didn’t blame his hesitation, you had some of your own, as you took in what you needed to be the real Dean Winchester in this moment. Crawling forward hesitantly to sit up on your knees, you pushed Dean’s shoulder so he was facing you, one leg moving up on the bed, and wrapped an arm around his neck, the other gripping lightly at his bare wrist so the ring was touching it, like you had done to Sam. Dean kept his hands to himself for the moment watching you, and you waited for any sign of the sizzle of skin, holding your breath.

When none came you threw yourself at Dean, straddling his lap and nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck. Dean was frozen for a few seconds, until he let out a breath of air, and wrapped his arms around you as tight as he could mirroring your position and planting a few chaste kisses against your pulse point. You groaned quietly, feeling heat rush through your body and grabbed fistfuls of Dean’s shirt, grounding yourself in the moment. This was Dean, he passed the test, it’s really him. You’re safe.

Dean felt your body begin to shake, and he pulled away, taking your face in his, and you turned and kissed his palm, giving him a small smile, which he returned, eyes filled with tears, grateful that you were in front of him. You leaned forward and kissed his lips, ignoring the way your body lurched back when he reacted and deepened the kiss, running his tongue along your bottom lip. You wanted more than anything for him to help you forget, but you couldn’t take this any further until he understood what had happened. Again. You didn’t have the security of Dean’s room at the bunker, or the darkness to shield you from what you were about to tell the man you loved, but you weren’t worried about the way he would view you. Rather you were scared of how much Dean would beat himself up over what you were about to say. 

You pulled back lightly, licking your lips and savoring the flavor of sweet whiskey and Dean on your mouth. Dean was staring at you intently, almost like he wasn’t believing you were actually here, and you rubbed at his shoulders in response, to remind him that you were real. And you were safe. 

“Dean,” you started, staring into his forest green eyes. “I have to tell you what happened...” You were suddenly hesitant, not knowing how to relive the worst moment of your life. Dean squeezed gently at your hips, letting you know he was there for you, but he spoke up as well. 

“You don’t have to tell me anything, baby. Cas told--” 

“I have to tell you my side of the story, Dean. Castiel wasn’t there for it.” You cut him off, and he nodded looking guilty for saying anything. You picked at a loose thread on Dean’s flannel while you found the right words. 

“I had just been sitting on the Impala when he grabbed me, and I woke up in some kind of damp room, shackled to the ceiling.” You had finally found your courage to get it all out and the words were suddenly pouring from your lips, Dean hanging on to every one. 

“He only took off my clothes the first time he visited. But when he came back the second, I knew he was going to take what he wanted. I resisted and he told me that he wanted me to enjoy it as well. And with that he turned into you...” You trailed off, getting emotional now, wrapped up in the moment you looked into the hunter’s green eyes, thinking you were finally being saved. 

“What!” Dean yelled, making you jump. He didn’t move to get up, but you could feel the anger radiating off of him, and he worked hard to contain himself as he waited for you to tell the rest of the story. But you simply placed your head back into the crook of his neck, hoping he could fill in the blanks himself this time. You laid soft kisses along his collarbone, hoping to release the tension in his shoulders, but he was long gone, surely imagining nothing but sinking a knife into Greg. 

You were getting tired as you clung onto Dean, exhausted from the day, and from retelling your story. Your emotions felt out of control, and you wanted nothing more than a deep, dreamless sleep. One that only came from being held by Dean. 

He shifted lightly when he felt you yawn against his neck, and moved to lay you back on the bed, when you grabbed onto his arm. 

“Stay with me.” You stated, peering up at Dean. The corner of his mouth lifted slightly and he nodded, moving to the other side of the bed, and stripped down to his simple black shirt and boxer briefs. He sprawled out on his back, and reached for you, pulling you to lay your head against his chest, where you could hear the comforting thump thump thump of his heart. You were asleep in minutes. 

Dean, however, laid awake, plotting the long, slow torture of the thing that hurt you. 

When We Were Young Tag List: @vicmc624 @woundedxsmile @akshi8278 @supernatural3002

Read Part X here!

[firekissedpiper]

— ✗ PUNISH ME.

— ✗ Time Period: EARLY FEBRUARY, 2020.

— ✗ TW: Pregnancy loss, mugging/robbery, death of a loved one, rape.

It had been almost a week since Piper had first woken up, strapped down to the bed. Her first few days had been spent drifting in and out of consciousness. She’d been pumped full of a cocktail of both pain meds and then whatever other mood stabilizers they were putting into her system. For the first few days she’d heard murmurings of being ‘high risk’ and a ‘danger to herself’. She had tried to say that she didn’t do it, that she hadn’t tried to hurt herself. But she either found herself unheard or they told her that she was where she needed to be to get help.

For the last four days, she’d been released from her restraints and her pain medications had been reduced to something else. She wasn’t sure what it was, just an inflammatory she thought. It wasn’t knocking her on her ass the same way the last had. She still felt groggy, as if she was underwater, but she didn’t feel like she couldn’t quite stay awake anymore. Honestly, she’d rather that at this point. 

The last days had been spent in her room. They had tried desperately to encourage her out of her room. Coaxing her with various promises of snacks, ‘fun’ activities and group meditation programs. She didn’t want to go out there. Sure the nurses were nice enough and the people who she heard from her room didn’t seem like the foaming mouthed ‘crazies’ she saw from the movies. But she wasn’t one of them. She was fine. She’d been mugged, that was it. 

A day ago the psychiatrist had checked in on her again. He was just a normal looking man too. A little on the plumper side and seemed to have an endless supply of grey dress shirts. She honestly was starting to wonder if he simply just walked into stores and asked for the most plain and boring shirts. There were not a whole lot of white coats on the doctors in the hospital she was in. It all seemed so normal. The normality irked Piper more than if there’d been metal barred windows and patients slamming themselves against the doors.

The psychiatrist had been trying to coax her into talking to him about her mental issues. He kept prodding with questions. He read like a survey. Which is probably what it was. One of those papers with multiple choice questions meant to read a result of what brand of insane someone was. She kept quiet, just stating over and over she hadn’t tried to commit suicide. Every day he came, she watched him with hazel eyes, spoke the same words and watched him leave.

Today they’d informed her that since she was feeling better physically, she was going to have her first therapy appointment. She didn’t want it, but she was beginning to get the idea she wasn’t going to make any leeway with getting out of there if she didn’t cooperate with them. She wasn’t about to speak the lies they wanted her to. No matter how much she was pressed she wasn’t going to lie. It was probably the first time in her life she wasn’t entirely okay but living in a lie.

Piper played into her usual cycle. She woke up early from the nightmares that terrorized her sleep, often muffling screams so that the nurses didn’t come in. She’d learned that while she’d been out of it she’d come into consciousness in moments, often screaming and wailing in terror. Given she didn’t want to draw attention to herself, she’d wake and attempt to crush any panic before the nurses could come interfere. The last thing she wanted was them getting another reason to believe something was wrong with her. Or risk the chance that they might try to dose her up. 

The next hours upon waking were spent in bed, sitting up - back pressed against the cold wall as she watched the door. It made her feel safer, to watch the door. Part of her had accepted that this wasn’t like what she’d seen in the horror movies, but other parts of her was still on edge, waiting for something to happen, ready to defend herself. She’d listen as the nurses switched shifts, hear the patients in the other rooms rise and began their morning routines. The rounds would begin. Soon there would be a knock on the door. A nurse walked in with a small white cup of pills. 

She’d take it from her, swallow the pills with the water. She didn’t want them. But she had learned that the nurses were watching more closely than she thought. For the first few days of lucidity, she’d tried spitting some of the pills. After being threatened with another IV drip, she decided to swallow them the less invasive way. She hoped swallowing those pills and agreeing to see the therapist would eventually win her the ability to sign herself out. Then she could go home with her kids. 

When the nurses left, she’d sit for a couple hours. When she was sure they weren’t looking, she would take off her shirt and eye up the large gauze pad on her chest. Every time she saw it, she felt like she was back in that moment. She felt her hands against the cool steel of the gun, felt the tugging and force from her opposition - desperately trying to break her hold on it. She heard the echo of that small click that somehow seemed so much louder. Somehow, she didn’t remember the sound of the bullet leaving the chamber. She just remembered that click.

There wasn’t a big blast. Maybe she’d blocked it out. Just that small simple click of a pulled trigger. Just like it was yesterday, she saw the blood soaking through her shirt, spreading out and radiating from the point of entry. She felt the faint burning sensation, then the pain. She could almost feel the weakness in her legs as they buckled. The blackness had taken her vision then, but not her hearing. She heard the shifting, felt something being placed in her hand. Then footsteps taking off. 

By the time she’d pulled herself out of the memory, she was shaking. She’d pull her shirt back on and try desperately to forget ever thinking of the horrible occurrence. For brief moments of calm, she’d pretend as if it did not happen - tucked it away in a box with the other traumas she endured. It was better than the alternative. She didn’t want to accept her own stupidity, or the fact she deserved that wound to the chest.

She was in the middle of trying to calm the shaking when a nurse had walked in. Piper steadied herself. While it was hard to dull the panic, she often found her own stubborn nature made such things far easier on her. If she had a goal to put her weight behind, she could pretend for just a little while longer than everything was okay. 

“Are you ready for your appointment?” The nurse asked.

Piper wanted to respond with a bitter and resounding no, but she knew that wouldn’t get her anywhere. “Sure,” she commented instead, unable to bite back on the sarcasm in her tone as she rose to her feet. The whole thing was dripping with reluctance, but she forced one foot in front of the other, following the nurse out of her room and down the hallway. In the corner of her eye she caught sight of the other patients. They sat in the common room, playing games or watching one of the flat screens. Some just simply lurked, eating the lunches they’d been brought up. 

Some seemed happy, others she could obviously see were struggling with something. There was a mix of people. Men and women. She imagined they were all of different backgrounds. They didn’t seem so strange. She questioned why they were all there. Honestly, she wondered why she was. She found herself borderline shocked she hadn’t been swooped off to spend some time in some fancy hospital in Switzerland by her mother. 

She preferred this. At least doctors here lived by a code, not simply doing what they were paid for. Certainly her mother would have bribed any and all doctors she could come across to treat her wickedly. As much as she would have rathered not be there at all, she’d choose this over some hospital where her parents held the doctors by the short and curlies. She knew her dad wouldn’t do something like that, he was not cruel, just naive. He still let her mother run the show. 

“Have you gotten a chance to leave your room and meet some of the other patients yet?” The nurse inquired. 

“No,” Piper said, certain the nurse already knew the answer to the question. She wasn’t sure if she was trying to make genuine small talk or if she was simply filling the silence. Some people did that around her when they remembered that she was a princess. She’d never cared for her title, but somehow it followed her.

“They’re doing a Bingo game with some treats later tonight if you’d like to join,” the nurse started in. There it was, the little attempt to coax her out from her bubble. Piper wanted to sneer at it. Bingo. Such a mundane activity. Here it probably was another word for a chance to be lectured by the nurses and bond with her ‘wellness community” as it’d been put to her. 

“I’d rather not,” she said rather coldly. The last thing she wanted to do was settle in here. The only thing she really wanted was to just leave and go back to her daughters. 

“Well, I’ll come knock on your door when it starts in case you change your mind,” the woman told her. She didn’t seem amused by Piper’s unwillingness to participate. 

“Don’t bother.” She hoped her voice was cold enough that the nurse would simply drop the topic. Surely enough, she had. They walked in silence the rest of the way down the hallway. The nurse used her pass to buzz them through a door. Piper followed the nurse through the door and saw it was another small hallway full of offices. She counted four doors. 

The nurse led her to the second door on the right. It was cracked open slightly. Pushing it open the rest of the way, the nurse poked her head in. “Piper is here for her appointment,” the nurse said simply. 

“Tell her to come in,” it was the voice of another woman, this one was sharper, more deep and cold cut. The nurse had a more bubbly attitude whereas the therapist didn’t seem to bother carrying the same lightness.

The nurse nodded and opened the door the rest of the way. Reluctantly, Piper forced one foot in front of the other. She was not looking forward to this little session. The only thing that kept her from tucking tail and running was the fact that if she refused to see anyone they’d only keep her there longer. 

The door closed behind her. Piper was grateful for that. She didn’t want to run the risk of someone listening in on the verbal review of her history she was sure she was about to get. The brunette stood by the door, watching the therapist carefully with hazel eyes. She didn’t let her gaze wander, as much as she wanted to look around and get a feeling for the room. 

“You must be Piper, I’m Dr. Osweld,” the woman introduced herself. She didn’t hold out a hand to shake. A good thing, Piper didn’t want to touch this woman. Dr. Osweld glanced down at the folder she carried. Honestly, it looked like a novel, which it probably was. “You can sit,” the woman said absently, not glancing up from her book. Piper was almost surprised she was looking away. Some of the nurses looked at her like she was going to launch herself at them. Clearly the doctor didn’t fear an attack. 

“I’m fine,” Piper said briefly, holding her spot. 

“Alright then, we’ll just begin. You know my name and I know yours. How about you tell me something about yourself?” Dr. Oswald asked, lifting a sheet from what she assumed was her chart and reviewing it before looking back at Piper. 

“I don’t think that’s necessary,” Piper said, her voice flat and monotone. She was on autopilot defense mode. 

“I’m not sure if I can help you if I don’t know who you are,” the woman raised an eyebrow briefly, watching Piper’s actions carefully. 

“Well it’s a good thing I don’t need help now, isn’t it?” This time the words came out with some certainty. She knew she didn’t need help. Maybe after days of ranting at the nurses and the psychiatrists this woman would finally hear her. 

The woman scribbled something down in her notebook. “Why are you here if you don’t need help?” 

“Because no one is listening to me,” Piper said simply. She’d been shouting for days that she had not tried to kill herself. She hadn’t. The man had held that gun to her head and in the desperate scramble to angle it elsewhere he’d shot her in the chest. 

“I am. Why don’t you tell me what happened?” It was the same line everyone had been feeding her. They were all ‘listening’ but no one paid any mind to truth, just what they thought to be the truth. 

“I left the hospital and I was having a cigarette in the alleyway,” Piper was honestly a little ashamed to admit that part. She’d quit for so long, she was a little disappointed in herself for smoking. “These two guys came in asking if I wanted to buy some weed off them,” she continued. 

“Why were you smoking in the alleyway and not in front of the main part of the hospital?” The woman asked, scribbling something down. 

“I didn’t want to be the dick who choked up every one else’s lungs for my dumb decision,” she commented rather quickly, a little irritation in her voice. It wasn’t the truth. The truth was she’d been ashamed, and she wanted to not be seen, to go somewhere where she couldn’t be judged for her decision. 

“Fair enough. What happened after that?” The woman wrote something else down. 

“I told them I didn’t want anything they had,” also true. She hadn’t wanted whatever they were selling. Even if she did decide she was going to go on a bender, it certainly wouldn’t be with whatever dime bag they were selling. God knew what they laced it with. 

“Why did they offer you marijuana in the first place? What happened before that?” Dr. Osweld inquired. 

“They made some comment about the hospital reaming people, I told them that I didn’t have to worry about medical bills denting my bank account,” Piper said easily, not thinking a whole lot about it. 

“Ah. Go on,” she wrote down something else. 

“I told them to have a good day and turned to leave. Then I heard the click of them cocking the gun,” Piper said carefully. She could hear the sound once again, ringing in her ears, taunting her. The memory of Tomas and those two men floating through her minds all at once. The gun held to her head had not scared her nearly as much as seeing Ella in danger had though. She clenched her hand a little, squeezing it and opening it. The pain from the improperly healed blisters bring her back down. 

“What did you do?”

“I did what they told me to. I turned around and asked them what it was they wanted,” Piper explained. She could see the scenario as clearly as if it was happening to her right then. The wound in her chest felt like someone had lit it on fire. 

“And what did they want?”

“They asked for my wallet and cellphone,” Piper said simply. It seemed basic enough. It was what most of those robbing others seemed to want. The valuables. 

“And if you gave it to them why did they shoot you?” Dr. Osweld questioned. 

“I didn’t. I told them no,” Piper said simply, as if it was the most basic thing in the world. Realizing what she’d done when she saw the surprise on the doctor’s face, she made up a lie, “I heard that telling them no jars them enough that they leave you alone. It worked, the guy holding the gun was distracted. So I reached for it and tried to knock it out of his hands. And when we were fighting it went off.” 

“So in this - metaphor, shall we say - why didn’t you run when they were shocked? Why didn’t you simply give up your cellphone and wallet? If what you said is true it wouldn’t have hurt your funds. You could always cancel the cards,” Dr. Osweld commented. Piper felt the irritation rising. 

“It’s not a metaphor! It happened,” Piper insisted, her tone growing rather fiery. 

“You’re avoiding the question, why didn’t you just give them what they wanted? It was that easy, surely they would have just walked away. You could have thrown the bag to the ground and ran off while they were distracted,” the woman insisted. Piper stayed silent, but she felt the flame of rage starting to burn in herself. “If this was indeed the case, why didn’t you simply just do as they asked. You can get new things. Why did you choose to refuse and fight with someone who had a loaded weapon?” 

“Because they weren’t just things! It was all I had left, everything has been taken from me by men far worse than that and I was not going to let more people take from me!” She shouted at the woman, her tone vicious and infuriated. Piper was fuming, she could practically feel herself shaking. 

Dr. Osweld didn’t seem frightened. She seemed - satisfied. She scribbled something else down in her book and turned her attention back to Piper. “What had been taken from you?” The woman asked. Piper was thrown for a loop for a brief moment, why the subject change? It didn’t impact her fury much, but it distracted her - at least for a moment. 

“What?”

“You said worse men had taken things from you, who were they and what did they take?”

“That’s none of your business,” Piper cut the conversation short. She wasn’t about to put into words what had been done to her. She wasn’t going to indulge this woman and dig up the darker memories of her history. Despite her attempts at calming her mind, memories of Tomas had melded with the ones that played in her mind of those men who’d mugged her. 

“Okay, let’s start with something simpler, why were you in the hospital?” Once again, Dr. Osweld was throwing her for a loop. She wished that for once she’d choose an easier topic to traipse across. Piper almost wished she’d decided to take up this hour trying to distract her by gushing about favorite colors and foods instead of trying to plead for a case she didn’t think anyone would be taking on any time soon. 

“Why bother asking? You have my medical file. Surely you already know everything there is to know about what I was doing there in the hospital,” Piper pointed out, still consumed by her irritation. 

“I would like to hear your take on it,” Dr. Osweld pointed out. 

“They transferred me there from the hospital where I was taken after the plane landed,” Piper said, giving the most plain description of what had happened that she possibly could. Without talking about it. She ignored the images of looking down at the blood that had been spreading along her thighs flashing through her head. She pretended they did exist. 

“Why did they land the plane?”

“Because they felt they needed to,” an answer that wasn’t really an answer. 

“And why’s that?” 

“I don’t know, perhaps the medical attendant wasn’t fit to handle the situation,” Piper commented. 

“What situation? What happened on the plane?” The woman kept pressing her. Piper was shaking by this point. She thought she might throttle the therapist given the opportunity. But she couldn’t. She had to get out of here. “What happened on the plane Piper?” 

Piper had balled her hands into fists. All she could think about was the first image of that ultrasound, when she’d seen the tiny little life on the screen. She had seen it move. And then she remembered seeing that blank screen. An empty, barren plane. She remembered them saying what a good thing it was. That it meant she wasn’t risking infection that way. 

“What happened Piper? What happened to you?” Piper thought she was going to explode. All she wanted was for the woman to stop talking. 

“My baby died is what happened! The last living piece of someone I loved died, and now my baby is dead and someone I cared about is gone and I am lost! I am lost because everyone in my life either leaves or dies. They slip through my fingers because I open my hands. They leave because of me,” she shouted once more. Piper had quickly lost her thin grasp on her control. She was slipping and weak. The medications messed with her head, her body was fatigued. There was too much going on in her head. She didn’t feel like even pretending to feel nothing would help anymore. 

“You feel guilty, for this person dying and losing your child?” The therapist lightened up. 

“Of course I feel guilty it was myself. I drove Gabel away, I called him a monster and yelled at him. I was unkind and cruel. He wouldn’t have walked away - right into the arms of whoever killed him if I was not the way I am. My child would still be alive if I was more careful,” her grip on things were slipping. She was being slammed by one trauma after another. She clawed desperately to reach something solid, but she was just knocked under with one wave after another. 

“Do you feel like you deserve to be punished?” The woman wasn’t relenting. Perhaps Piper deserved that too, to relive all the horrid things. That would be her penance. 

“Of course I do,” Piper did not shout the words this time, she did not rant the words maddenly. She said them quietly, but with certainty. 

“Well,” the doctor cleared her throat. “We’ve made some great progress today Piper.” She scribbled down a few things on her notepad. “You may see the nurses if you would like to seek some comfort.” 

Piper looked up at her in some shock. Was that it? She’d just completely break her down and then have her go on her way, ignoring the damage she had just caused. “Is that it?” The brunette questioned sharply. 

“What do you mean?” 

“That’s it, you’re just going to write in your book and tear me down?” Piper inquired, her voice growing agitated again. 

“I’m here to analyze and help you make sense of your tangled thoughts. I’m not here to share my input on your inner struggle,” the woman said simply. 

“That’s not good enough. You’ve got me stuck here, you’ve chosen not to believe me. Pills are being shoved down my throat and I cannot leave to see my children. You tore me down and you expect me to what, pick up the pieces myself without even knowing how they fit together? That’s it? You’ve got nothing else for me besides that it’s the end of session! Sorry for breaking you a nurse will clean it up?” Piper was out of breath, she’d barely taken the time to intake any as she’d gone off on her rant. 

“What would you have me do?” Dr. Osweld asked with a raised eyebrow. Piper stood there, fists clenched, breathing ragged. She couldn’t make sense of anything going through her head, and maybe some of her rage was misplaced, but it didn’t feel that way in the moment. 

“Something! How about you tell me what you’ve been writing down in that stupid book of yours?” Piper knew she was definitely crossing some boundaries with the patient and doctor violence clause. She wasn’t physically abusing her but she was certain her yelling was somewhere in the behavioral manual the nurse had gone through when she was lucid. Despite that, the doctor didn’t seem too worried about it all. “Well! What are your thoughts on my mental state, what do I have to untangle?” Piper exclaimed. 

“You really want to know what I think?” The woman looked rather uncertain with her. But she seemed like she’d give up the goose if Piper wanted her to. 

“Yes,” Piper was certain. 

“I think the scenario you constructed is a way to cover up your guilt. I think you lost a person you loved, you lost your baby and then you lost your mind. I think you went out back to end your life and in order to cover the guilt of leaving behind your loved ones. And I think to protect yourself from the fact you created the fantasy that you bravely fought off two criminals-,” Piper cut the woman’s word off. 

“It’s not a fantasy!” Piper exclaimed, irritated. 

“Okay, say it’s not a fantasy. Say this happened. Let me tell you what I think of that. I think you went into that alley to isolate yourself, but I also think you hoped to find trouble there. I think you were just hoping something would happen because you know things keep happening to you. And you think you deserve them. So when you saw those men you sabotaged further, you took chance and chance again to irritate them, to coax them into getting violent. Because you wanted to be punished, but you were also done. You wanted to go out hurting. But even though you were ready to go, you couldn’t do it, you couldn’t hurt the ones you loved. When it became simple to survive, you just kept sabotaging until you knew you could go out viewed as a hero, battling off some low lives instead of going out a coward who killed themselves and hurt their entire family. Say your scenario wasn’t real, you didn’t attempt killing yourself, but you wanted to. And you wanted to do it guilt free.” 

Piper looked at her in shock. Her whole rant had set something off in her, had broken her. She stood in silence for a moment, quivering slightly. For a moment she just stared at the woman in front of her. 

“You’re wrong,” Piper said before doing what she did best, tucking tail and running out of the office. 

--

Piper had returned to her room that night with absolutely no intention of leaving. A nurse had been close on her heels by the time she’d fled back to her room. She refused to give anything but monotone answers. The brunette had gone to bed that night without bothering to properly move. Sleep wasn’t easier, instead she had been plagued by nightmares. There was new peace at all it seemed. She couldn’t count on both hands how many times she woke up in a cold sweat. Desperate to prove she wasn’t what they kept accusing her of being, she tucked herself into bed as best as she could. 

She was up by the morning. At four in the morning when she finally gave up and sat up in bed. She picked at her fingers idly, twisting a hairband on her wrist. Piper didn’t think she could find a way to make the time pass any quicker. She was going stir crazy in the room. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could deal with being stuck there. At first, she’d hoped she could camp out into her room until she gained freedom. 

At around five in the morning, there was a knock on the door. Piper perked up after hearing it, her eyes quickly moving to the door she’d taken such liberty with closing. “Come in?” She asked with a question at the end. Nobody ever knocked this early, not even the nurses. Her meds were not due until about seven thirty in the morning or so based on her observations of the past few mornings. 

Piper brushed the blankets off herself and sat up in bed, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. A couple of people filed in. One was a police officer, one man and one woman wearing a suit and two people she noticed as nurses. Piper was half wondering if it was from the incident of yesterday if she was honest. 

“Princess Mykonos, our deepest apologies,” the woman in the suit said. “It would appear our staff may have made a snap judgement,” the lawyer tapped her on the arm briefly, as if reminding her not to say what she was about to. She coughed briefly, “your case presented in a way that could have been misinterpreted.” Maybe it was the lack of sleep but Piper couldn’t help but feel confused. 

“We’ve found the criminals. They were found using your credit card at an atm and retrieved your wallet and cellphone. Their prints matched the other set on the gun,” the police officer cut in, deciding he had had enough of the legal nonsense. 

Finally, after days of shouting her case to the staff, they finally were hearing. They knew the truth. She hadn’t tried to end her life. But at the same time, she didn’t feel the excitement she thought she would. She didn’t feel satisfied. Piper didn’t feel like she’d won. Somehow it felt more like a loss than a win. 

“The nurses are writing up an official discharge and incident report for now. You’ll be released as soon as we can possibly manage, for now, I do hope you’ll choose not to take legal action,” the woman said carefully. 

“You’re saying I can leave?” Piper questioned, raising her eyebrow. 

“Yes, you can leave.” 

--

Piper walked through the same door she had entered just yesterday. Only this time, it was so different. Yesterday, she’d walked unwillingly through the door, being led along the way by a nurse. She had been internally struggling with herself not to just tuck tail and hide in her room. Every movement had been reinforced with wanting to eventually get out of the hospital by cooperating. This time, it was quite different for her.

She walked willingly, a free woman, just waiting on a couple more papers to come through before she left. Something about settlement papers. Piper had been looking for the quickest way out of there. Yet at the same time, she couldn’t help but find herself not so eager to leave. Her former desire to just go and never turn back wasn’t there. Something had been holding her back. It’d been bothering her since leaving the office of her therapist yesterday. 

She saw the four doors and headed to the right one. This time she knocked, waiting semi-impatiently for the response of the woman inside. She hoped she wasn’t interrupting. After all she knew the nurse was just trying to give her what she wanted on the orders of whoever owned the hospital. Piper heard movement in the office and stepped back slightly from the door. 

“Piper, I’m surprised to see you. I thought you’d be gone by now. Did you have some questions about my discharge sheet?” The woman asked curiously. It had been one of the few sheets that didn’t ramble with apologies. There was no dancing around the truth with her note. It’d been a sheet on coping mechanisms of all things. “Would you like to come in?”

Nodding, she crossed the threshold into the room, fighting internally once more - but this time it was to find the strength to speak, not to find the strength find a way out of it. She shut the door behind herself. She wasn’t sure she was ready for anyone else to bear witness to what she was about to do. Even if she knew the truth, it didn’t mean she wasn’t ashamed. 

“What did you want to know about the sheets?”

“It’s not that,” Piper said rather awkwardly, her voice uncertain. “I…” once more she trailed off, trying to find the strength to speak. “Yesterday, what you said,” she started, failing to take off on her train of thought once again. 

“Yes?” Dr. Osweld prompted. 

“You were right,” it was hard to admit. “I didn’t try to kill myself. I didn’t hold the gun to my body and shoot it. But I wanted to die,” it hurt to say out loud. There was a rush of sadness, of shame and guilt, of anger at herself for being so weak, anger at the doctor for revealing her emotions, but most of all confusion as she tried to make sense of it all. “I need help, and I think I need to stay here to get it.”

[queenmaracasandlove]

You’re My Best (Sex) Friend - Roger Taylor x F!Reader - Part IV

Word Count: +:- 2800

In the last chapter: Y/N and Roger had an amazing night after Queen’s concert on Christmas Eve but they have decided to keep their feelings for themselves. Roger wants to wait until the end of the tour and Y/N doesn’t believe it it’s mutual. Warnings: (Minor) angst in this one. 

A/N: This chapter is not as full of action but the themes in it are really important to me. Hope you life it ! 

Part I Part II Part III Part V

MASTERLIST 

Permanent Taglist: @reedusteinrambles

It had been more than a month now that Roger and Y/N had seen each other for the last time. He was in the middle of a tour in North America and she had been casted as a member of the ensemble in a West End musical. Y/N was still living in Roger’s flat and had made a few alterations to it, making it more welcoming, something worthy of a good homecoming. It’s been also a few months now that they had realise their true feelings for each other without saying anything about it. Roger wanted to wait until the end of the tour to ask Y/N on a date when she had decided to move on, or at least try to.

Y/N was coming back home after her Thursday evening show and she was exhausted. Although she was usually drained after the performance she was spending more and more time backstage every night because of one particular person, and came back very late. But she knew that nobody was waiting for her anyway. She had mixed feelings about it, not sure of what to do. She was afraid of letting herself go and to let him go at the same time. She was pouring herself a glass of water when she heard the telephone ringing. Only a few people knew she was living here and according to the time she immediately guessed who was calling, her heart starting to rush inside her chest. She quickly picked up.

“Y/N?”

She immediately recognised his raspy voice on the other end and she could not help but smile. She was so happy to hear him, delighted he would take the time to call her just to small talk.

“Roger? How are you?”

“Great, although knackered. And you love?”

“I’m great too. Tell me, where are you tonight?”

“I’m not sure but I think it’s Cincinnati. Can’t keep up really” he laughed

The phone calls were never long but they were always good. They usually exchanged on their daily lives for a few minutes before going back to it. Y/N started to think that maybe she should mention the person that was in her mind, now almost as often as Roger but she wasn’t sure. She found herself ridiculous. She could speak to him, he had always listened and she knew he would not judge her. But what she wanted wasn’t advice, it was more than that...

“Are the guys doing okay?” she asked

“Yeah. I’m trying to get on Brian’s nerves as much as possible. John finds it funny and Freddie barely cares”

“Sounds fun. Don’t be too bad okay? You’re already painful without trying too hard.” she added, able to picture the scene in her head perfectly

“Ah. Ah. Very funny.”

“You know I’m right that. I almost miss your shitty behaviour sometimes” she sighed

“So how do you deal with the pain of being away from me? How’s the show? Made any friends?”

“Well…”

Y/N felt her throat drying by the second. She had convinced herself that she had to move on and forget him. But she wanted to be sure, that she was not missing out on something. Christmas Eve had been very confusing but nothing since then had made her think that it was in fact different from their previous nights together.

“Yes. The show is doing amazing and I love it. Each night is different even if it’s the same show. And um… One of the dancers, Linda, she wants to go to the cinema with me next Monday, it’s our day off…”

“That’s great!” he said

Y/N was quite surprised by his answer. It came from the bottom of his heart. She was not sure he had understood well what she was implying. 

“Yeah. I’m not too sure about it. Maybe now is not right time to…”

“Just go for it Y/N! I’m not gonna be around for a bit and I know you already have other friends but one more is always good. You sure need someone around.”

“Well… Guess I’ll give it a go then. But I don’t want just to fool around anymore, so if there’s a chance for it to be serious I…”

There were screams and loud noises over the phone, preventing Y/N from finishing her sentence. She wanted to tell him that she wanted a real relationship now and that if things started with Linda she would not stop when he would come back. That their little business would be over and that nothing else would be possible anymore. There had been times since the beginning of their friends with benefits thing where one of them had been involved in a relationship and they had stopped, starting again when both of them were single. But this time was completely different. And things could not go one the way they were anyway.

“I’m sorry love I have to go, soundcheck is about to start. Enjoy the movie. I miss you too.”

Roger hung up the phone before going back to the dressing room where his bandmates were waiting for him. He was upset that the phone call had been so quick but he was happy that Y/N managed to have a social life outside of work. He had convinced her to stop working at the hotel saying that it was useless and that she could stay at his place until she found somewhere affordable when he came back. In his wildest dreams she would never leave. 

During the lonely hours on the tour bus he had confessed his feelings for Y/N to his friends who had all been supportive. Of course they all suspected it, apart maybe from John who wasn’t paying attention anyway more focused on his newly born son during the past few months than to everybody else’s love life. Freddie thought it was stupid of him to wait whereas Brian had been surprised by Roger’s patience and consideration. He wasn’t just a ladies’ man, he had had a few girlfriends, but he had always gone too far too fast. His feelings had to be very serious this time for him to be so careful.

“So, how’s Y/N?” Freddie asked

“Great! One of her colleague is taking her to the cinema next week.”

All the boys stopped what they were doing to look at him, surprised. That’s exactly why Freddie had said waiting was a stupid idea, because Y/N would probably go on with her life and find someone who was smart enough to ask her on a date without waiting.

“Are you okay with her going on a date?” John asked, suddenly curious

“It’s not a date, she’s called Linda and she’s a dancer in her production. I was very happy when she told me about it. I encouraged her to go.” Roger replied, confident

There was an uneasy look between Brian and Freddie and Roger noticed it. She was her best friend, he would know about it right? According to his confused look he did not.

“What?” he asked

Brian was trying to find the right way to put it but Freddie was not that considerate.

“She’s into girls too Roger. You’re fucked.”

Roger frowned, not sure he had heard it right and turned to Brian who nodded a little, confirming Freddie’s words. The news was a complete shock. He did not care that she was bisexual, that wasn’t the point although he did not understand how he could have not known that. They were supposed to be friends, that’s the kind of things he should have been aware of.

“When… How?”

“You did not remember when she was with Chris?” Brian said

“How was I supposed to know he wasn’t a fucking dude Bri?” Roger answered

“Maybe because her name was Christine and she came to the pub quite often?” John added

Roger was boiling. He was completely mad. Mad at himself for being so stupid. Of course now he remembered. Y/N had been very shy about giving them details about Chris, her partner at the time, it was right at the beginning of them starting to know each other. There was a girl who was often there also, Christine. And she suddenly stopped coming one day, after that Y/N was quite sad for a while. But for some reason Roger had never been able to put two and two together.

Before he could throw a tantrum they were all asked to go on stage for soundcheck. John was the first to leave the room, tapping on his friend’s shoulder on the way. Roger shrugged, feeling completely lost but followed him . He understood now, why she was so private about seeing other people. He knew she saw people from time to time but it’s not like they were going to talk about their ex-partners while sleeping together. And he wasn’t dumb, he knew that it was the seventies and that was not something you could talk about easily.

Roger wasn’t blind and he knew about Freddie, everybody did. But nobody said anything, it was not their business and they would support him no matter what. If he ever felt like telling them they would listen without judging, because there was nothing wrong. Roger was also aware that lesbians were less under the radar of the restriction laws but that did not mean they were safer in this stupid world. He understood her silence but he had just made a big mistake.

Roger banged his drums harder than ever during rehearsal without missing one beat, he rarely did and in fact was pouring all his heart in what he was doing. The first news was surprising, the upsetting one was that he had just old Y/N that it was okay for her to go on a date with Linda. He doubted she was asking for his approval but he knew he had just blown up his chances to try anything with her, worse than that, if this thing worked out, it would mean that they would not even been able to go on with the type of relationship they had before.

He knew it would not be fair to call her back and tell her not to do anything. She was free and she should do whatever she wanted to. He could only hope that he would still have a chance after the tour.   

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

Roger had not call for almost a month and soon it would be the end of the American leg of the tour. Y/N had been worried but understood that the band had other things to do. She had phoned Mary to have some news but she did not have much more information than Y/N, she was also pretty upset about something but did not want to say what. This comforted Y/N in her decision to try and erase any dream of a love relationship with Roger. In fact Linda had helped her quite a bit to do so. From the first day they had met they had known, they had noticed this little spark between the two of them and Linda had made the first move.

They had gone to the movie theatre together, and went for an ice-cream afterwards. They had hold hands during the film and that was it. Y/N was still confused, and she did not want to pretend like everything was fine. So she had told everything to Linda, how she had fell in love with one of her best friends (with whom she was occasionally hooking up) and how she wanted to get over it. Linda had listened, first like a friend would and then she had been honest. Was she pleased to know that Y/N’s heart was partially taken? Absolutely not. But Roger was away and Linda and Y/N were together in London. So they decided to give it a go.

They saw each other every working day but they made a rule not to behave as anything else but colleagues or friends at work. The show business world might have been more open minded than the rest but still, no need to risk being unsafe. Tonight was their fifth date, they had gone to an underground lesbian club and Y/N was really excited. Linda was much more aware of the events and parties of the community than she was. There had been many drinks and much dancing.

“You’re way too beautiful to be real Y/N.” Linda said “I can’t believe that stupid rockstar never fell for you”

Y/N’s hands were around Linda’s neck and she was thirsty for her every word. Linda was not afraid to say what she thought, she was not ashamed of her feelings and Y/N could tell she really cared about her and so did she. So she slowly kissed her lips and it felt great, it felt sweet and needy at the same time. Linda was right, Roger had not been able to see more than just a body in her (being a friend was something else) and she deserved to be in love with someone who did. Although it was only a spark for now she believed it could become something else. 

It was so good to be able to kiss another girl and not worry about it. Y/N smiled during the kiss, making it more passionate as her hands were getting lost in Linda”s hair.

“Should we go back to my place?” Linda asked

“I would love too”

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

Roger knew he was acting childish but he did behaved like he was used to anyway. He had not called back since Cincinnati, not even to tell Y/N when he was coming back. He was too afraid. He felt so stupid for telling her to go on a date with someone else but he had no right to be jealous. The boys had convinced him to enjoy the rest of the tour and not to worry about it. He would stay true to his first decision, wait until he was back to London. Although he was planning to ask Y/N on a date as soon as he would be back, without waiting for the end of the tour. If it wasn’t too late.

He would have less than ten days before going back on tour for another month but it would be the last leg and then he would be home for good, at least for a few months. All he had to do was to prove to Y/N that he was worth the wait. For hours he had thought about was he was going to tell her. The plane journey had been a torture and he had barely slept. The problem was, he didn’t realise that the world did not stop turning while he was away. That was often the case for people who were traveling, the feeling that everything would be the same as it was when they left.

He almost ran up the stairs to his flat, he wanted to hug Y/N, to make love to her and tell all the things he should have ages ago. How much he had missed her, how much he had fun, how much he wanted to share all his best memories with her, how much she meant to him, how much he loved her. He even had bought a scarf for her, a nice one that he had scene in Chicago and that immediately made him think of her. In fact he had went to a record shop in New York and asked for the latest vinyls from Musicals and had bought five of them because he knew she would love that.

He finally arrived in front of the door and took a deep breath in. His hands were almost shaking as he put the keys inside the lock.

“Y/N ! GUESS WHO’S BACK!”

But there was no answer. It was the middle of the day, maybe she was out he thought. He took the time to look around him, so many things had changed. He could smell her perfume in the clean flat. Some flowers were on the coffee table and there was a new plant next to the window. She must have nosed around his things because there were pictures on the walls. He put his bag on the floor to look at them. Some with his family, his friends, his bandmates and with her. He did not remember the one in the middle, Y/N and him after the Christmas Eve concert, his arm around her waist and hers around his neck, smiling and happy as ever. If only he had told her that night. He sighed, more impatient than ever to see her again. He would unpack waiting for her. Going to the bedroom he saw the paper on the counter with her lovely handwriting and the smile he had on his face immediately disappeared.

“Hello Rog’, You’ve probably been really busy because I had to call Mary to know when you were coming back… I decided to go to Linda’s place for the week so you could rest, her number is next to the phone if you have time to call. Can’t wait to see you (whenever) ! I’ve missed your stupid face.  Love, Y/N (the best friend/flatmate in the world)”

[blookmallow]

I FINALLY GOT SKYRIM MARRIED

i have a BEAUTIFUL WIFE

...who i went through a lot of shit for. this is. a lot of exposition, bear with me :’) im very invested in my character’s personal story here

so astrid had a very important special job for me and sent me to markarth to speak with the client directly

it turned out to be the apothecary’s assistant, who i was passingly familiar with already, so i imagine it was a bit of a surprise to both of us, but she got right to the point - a man broke her heart and ruined her life, used her to hurt the people close to her, abandoned her to go become a bandit, now she wants him dead

u can probably imagine where this is going,

this is the first time ive had a dark brotherhood job i was legitimately PSYCHED to carry out, you BET ill go fuck this guy up for you id do this for free

however, she also had... another request, one that wasn’t required, but something she really, really wanted

see she was very close with/practically another daughter to the shatter-shields in windhelm, the wealthy family who recently lost a daughter to the windhelm butcher

alain had manipulated her and used her to get to the shatter-shields, i dont remember if he stole from them or what happened there, but whatever it was, the shatter-shields blamed muiri for this and disowned her, throwing her out onto the streets with nothing

so she was used and had her heart broken by a man she loved, then was told it was Her Fault, and lost her home and her friends/the closest thing to family she had all at once, and was so hurt and desperate she turned to the dark brotherhood to get revenge on them all

she wanted me to kill nilsine too, the shatter-shields’ other daughter

SO we have this really complicated situation where, on the one hand, she wants alain dead for using her and ruining her life and hurting her friends, and like, he’s a bandit leader now, so he’s someone i probably would’ve easily killed off anyway, by “this is a video game not real life”/skyrim standards that’s a no brainer, i have no moral conflict with that and can’t wait to slash this guy’s head off

but on the other hand she’s so broken she wants a woman who used to be her best friend/practically her sister dead too. i dont know what nilsine’s role in this was specifically but these people were essentially her family, and they victim blamed her when she needed their support the most and threw her out with nothing and nowhere to go

and i had already done quests with the shatter-shields before this, so like, i know them too, and they’re sort of friends to me, i helped solve the mystery of their other daughter’s murder and now I’m being asked to kill the other. not to mention everyone’s going to think the butcher’s back/there’s a copycat killer/something and it’s gonna cause a panic again (even if the game doesn’t acknowledge that/directly show that happening, y’know) 

killing someone’s daughter when they’re still in mourning over the first, when they’ve come to trust you, when you’re the one who helped them gain closure over that first death already, is just. a stone cold thing to do

especially looking at it from my character’s perspective, she’d be especially torn on this because she’s a mother herself, but her children are girls she rescued from the streets - lucia was thrown away by her family, sofie was a victim of tragedy and was let down by the people in authority who should have protected and helped her

so medea would relate to tova as a mother and a friend but also relate powerfully with muiri as a victim in this

ultimately i don’t think there’s any real justification to kill nilsine here, i dont think you can really morally defend that, but. i was so drawn to muiri and wanted so badly to give her a shot at a better life and help her heal from all this, and knew she would become a marriage option if i did it bc id seen her name on the marriage options list before, her story fits in so well with medea’s, and like, i dont imagine im gonna have a lot of options for wives who would Know about my connection to the dark brotherhood/the things ive done and be okay with it, so if i went with her, there wouldn’t be a “keeping this horrible secret from my wife” aspect to deal with even though the game probably doesn’t acknowledge it if you do (i mean im still. keeping it from my kids, but. y’know. when they’re older)

and “talk this out with her and help her see how badly her mind’s been warped by the pain she’s been through” isn’t an option given to you, so

in the end i went through with it. killing alain was easy, just like any other bandit camp raid, but to get at nilsine without being caught, i had to sneak into their house when the family was asleep

which i expected would involve a lot of careful sneaking and laborious lock picking

until i realized i could just walk right in

because the door was already unlocked for me. because they consider me a friend and allow me into their home

and that somehow made it so much worse

i killed nilsine with an arrow, nobody heard a thing, and i ran for it before anyone saw me in there or realized what had happened

muiri gave me a special ring as a “symbol of her affection” for doing this, which i think is about the biggest sign i coulda hoped for lmao

i held off on considering marriage for the time though and finally decided i had to go back to windhelm to see if there was anything i could do to make amends to the shatter-shields even though they shouldn’t know it was me/make sure i didnt get seen by a guard without realizing it or something (though it wouldn’t probably matter anyway, guards saw me leave the orphanage immediately after grelod’s death and shrugged that off, so,)

my name’s still clear in windhelm, but...

tova committed suicide after she discovered what happened

she couldn’t cope with losing another daughter

so now the father is the only one left, coping with. the death of his entire family occurring within like a couple months

i didnt see what happened here i came back later so i dont know if this is something you can possibly stop or if its possible to witness the moment they find nilsine or tova’s suicide or if this just Inevitably happens whenever you come back

i feel terrible about this but theres. not really any going back now,

so. i went back to muiri

i dont know if this is what everyone says or not but her response was just. “i mean, yeah, why wouldn’t I be” i love her lmao

i wouldnt choose to get married in riften if it was up to me but thats how it be in skyrim i guess

my babies are here!!!! what!!!!

and a. random guy i dont recognize lmao :’)

just wandered in to see what was going on i guess. or maybe we’re friends and i forgot who he is entirely which would be kind of sad :’ )

maybe it was my long lost father... slipped out before i ever had the chance to realize it

however i actually. ended up doing this scene twice because, fun fact, there’s a glitch where if you don’t manage to catch up to your spouse to talk about where to live before they leave the chapel they can just fucking Disappear sometimes, :’  ) i couldnt find her anywhere after the wedding and finally looked it up and apparently she just fell into the void so i had to reload and run it again. we’re double married now

planned better this time and dressed better but anyway that elf guy didn’t appear this time but some other guy did, who i ALSO cant quite identify, he looks. maybe. kind of like lucas valerian? who is actually a friend to me and was one of the first friends i made so it’d decently make sense for him to come to my wedding, but weird if he came and camilla didn’t, and im not even sure thats him anyway, so i dont know what happened here all around

muiri’s mentor lady came too though which was sweet

im spinning this kind of as... like, medea was so drawn to her and felt so strongly for her she couldn’t bring herself to disappoint her and this was an eye opener for them both as a kind of. “look what kind of people we’ve let ourselves become” and their marriage as a new beginning, love coming from a place of desperation and darkness, starting over and hoping that the divines will forgive what they’ve done

medea’s not leaving the brotherhood but i mmmmmight try to be a little more careful about who i kill

i had intended for her to come live with me in markarth, she’s in on my. assassin life so having kind of this Other Side to my life made sense but... she met my kids at the wedding i guess and she wanted to live with them... which is really cute,

it feels really weird having this huge fancy house all to myself (and uh. argis, i guess) in markarth and having my wife and kids (and lydia, and a fox) all squished into the honestly kinda run-down whiterun house though i think im gonna work on getting the solitude house for them bc its. safer there than in markarth i feel like and ive heard thats like the fanciest/biggest house

there she is..... my Wife

she also sells things now but i feel bad accepting it when she gives me “my share” of the profit like.... babe thats your money i have so much adventuring money and i didnt do shit to help earn that,

i buy things from her sometimes but i refuse to sell her stuff bc i dont want to take any more of her money :’ )

even tho it. doesnt really matter, its video games, i know, but

found lucia, the fox, and muiri all on the bed at once

lydia was just standing like this for a rly long time after muiri moved in i guess she was suspicious but chilled out eventually :’)

gettin along finally

i just realized if we move to solitude lydia’s gonna get left behind though :(

i mean ill still come visit her but. upsetting

my one issue is that muiri still keeps saying “thank you for solving my-....problem.” every time i come in speaking distance of her which is. weird given that its the same line she had before we were married, like, she apparently doesnt get any new things to say, and is Really repetitive (imagine living in a small space with your partner and they say the same sentence with the same intonation every time you step within like 2 feet of them. how long til that gets old, do you think, ) and also its just like??? girl let that go we gotta stop dwelling on this or the kids are gonna start questioning what apparently massively important problem mommy solved

idk why she was laying on the floor but anyway my kids have started calling her “mama” now too and im not crying or anything

[the-marvel-imagines-blog]

Madness | Chpt. 5

Requests are Open

Chapter Title: “Thunder in the Rain”

Pairing: Loki x Original Female Character

Word Count: 7,968

Warnings: angst (I mean, when is it not angsty?), new character alert, also some kissing :*

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

A/N: Y’all are my favorite people in the universe. Thank you so much for reading and enjoying what I’m writing. Even if not every chapter is you cup of tea, it means a lot to see that people are leaving likes, messaging me, reblogging, etc. I love you all so much! Also, please note that I have taken and will be taking a lot of creative liberties pertaining to these characters. This will be shown in excess during the upcoming chapters, so I just wanted to give a bit of a warning.

Tagged: @teddyboobear @alledeglyfunny (anyone who wants to be tagged can message me and ask. It’s not a problem at all)

As I walked away from him, a part of me hoped to hear some kind of regret in his voice or anything at all, even. Instead, I heard nothing. He was silent. Maybe I had to do what everyone had been telling me to do all along: let him go. In my heart, I knew what would have been best for me. I knew that I would have been safer and filled with less grief if I let him go and went to Midgard to be with the Avengers and her. I knew that she would undoubtedly fill the void in my heart that Loki left there, as she had been the one to fill it ever since he fell. Still, I felt responsible for him as well as the Nine Realms. I saw the damage he had done to the world we knew as our second home. His suit was black (the absence of light), gold (what had once been my favorite color), and green (his favorite color-the color of my eyes). He attacked the part of Midgard we had last been to together. It was a night of laughter and happiness for both of us and a memory that was now clouded with pain and darkness. He still used the daggers I had given to him before he left for a battle with Thor-a battle Thor talked the Allfather into keeping me out of, as I was still recovering from the last one.

A piece of me wondered if he had a reason. Maybe he truly didn’t care for me anymore, maybe he lied to me all those years, but for what? What did he have to gain from an orphan girl? He was a God, and I was just another Asgardian. There was nothing extraordinary about me. If he wanted to manipulate someone for so long, why wouldn’t he choose someone with more power? I had to believe that it was more than that. I had to believe that there was something else that I just wasn’t seeing clearly. He was still in there. The man I knew was still holding on and fighting back this new version of himself. I didn’t know what happened or what made him turn on me so quickly, but I had a few theories of my own. Perhaps he found out about my secret from Odin that day, but I still didn’t even know how Odin would know in the first place. Maybe he fell out of love with me quicker than I had ever anticipated he could. I didn’t understand, but it wasn’t for me to try to figure out in the middle of the night when I was still sick from the ale that evening.

I made my way up to the training grounds, casting the illusion just long enough to make it past the guards. Once my eyes were dried, I dropped the illusion, finally visible again. I lifted a dulled sword from the rack and walked over to one of the training dummies before taking out every ounce of anger, frustration, and pain on it. I didn’t need to build my skills with the sword anymore. However, I knew to practice regularly to stay nimble. Tonight, however, was simply to hit the dummy as hard as possible to make my muscles sore. I just wanted to make myself tired enough that I could fall asleep for the rest of my life, and if I couldn’t achieve that, I at least wanted to be tired enough that when I laid down in bed, I could fall asleep immediately. I didn’t want to think of his harsh words or the way he glared at me like it was my fault he fell in the first place. I didn’t want to think of the mistakes I had made or the grief I felt over the loss of a man who meant so much to me.

Listening to the loud crack as my sword hit the dummy over and over again helped drown out the sorrow in my heart and the voices in my head that were even more cruel than Loki could ever even hope to be. As I growled, I thought of every moment in my life that I felt anger, every moment I felt alone, every moment I felt weak. I thought of the night he told me he hated me, the fall, when I saw him on Midgard, when I left her, when Tony Stark shed a tear for me, when she cried. There were so many moments, but they all came rushing back as the wall I had built up to keep them away finally broke down and crumbled into nothing. Suddenly, I heard a loud crack and opened my eyes to see that my last swing of the sword had been too successful, as the blade lay broken on the ground.

“For a woman as peaceful as yourself, you sure like breaking swords when you’re angry,” Thor’s voice rang out from behind me.

I whipped around, surprised by his presence. I hadn’t heard him coming, and I certainly didn’t feel him because of my clouded thoughts. As soon as I looked at him, my mind quieted once more. He was a peaceful soul with eyes as deep as the oceans. He leaned against one of the pillars with his arms crossed over his chest. His robes cascaded over his broad shoulders, and he wore a slight grin upon his lips. I shook my head, dropping the handle of the sword, which would be of no more use, “I apologize if I woke you,” I murmured, attempting to walk past him. I was in no mood for speaking as my frustration had not been washed away completely.

He caught my arm before I could pass him, and as my chest continued to heave, he spoke, “you did not wake me, Lady Eva. I figured that after you visited Loki, you would come here,” he said, hinting at the fact that he already knew what I had been up to that night. My mouth gaped open as I searched for any possible explanation other than the one he proposed. Before I could lie, he continued, “my brother has been playing tricks on me since we were children. Do you not think I can tell? Plus, I’ve known you since we were children, and I knew you would go down to see him at some point,” he shrugged.

“I had to. You can be mad, you can tell the Allfather, you can do whatever you need to do, and I won’t be upset. All I ask is that you continue fighting for him the way I have,” I said, straightening my shoulders, “I will accept whatever punishment my King sees fit.”

“Your King will never know,” Thor replied in a hushed but stern voice, “I will not be speaking a word of this to my father. You did what needed to be done, something he doesn’t believe is worth the time or energy. You’ve looked out for my brother since we were kids, and I would’ve been ignorant to believe that you would just stop because of what happened on Midgard. You still see the good in him, and I admire that because I still love him just as much as you do,” he added, “how was he?”

I stepped back over to him, and he released my arm from his grasp. I motioned around the training grounds, “well, I’m out here, so it didn’t go as well as I had anticipated. He’s still hurting, and it continues to break my heart every time I see him. I can feel his pain just as I could before, but it’s amplified.I just don’t know if I can keep doing this to myself, Thor. I don’t know if I can keep trying to save someone who doesn’t want to be saved. It would kill me to abandon him like this. His mind is chaos. He needs a moment of clarity, of peace, but...maybe I can’t give that to him,” I answered the best way I could.

“Who better to show him that moment of clarity than you?” he asked, gazing down at me with eyes that shined like the sun on my darkest day. While every other love I felt paled in comparison to that which I shared with Loki, Thor brought something else into my life, something more beautiful than life itself. He reminded me that life was not about power or status, it was about living. He had a love for all living things that matched my own, and I loved him all the more for it. Thor never pushed me away, “you have done so much for him, Eva. You may not think you’ve done enough, but you’ve done more than everyone else put together. You have sacrificed more than anyone else. All I know is that you need to take fate into your own hands sometimes. Maybe you find that you don’t want to wait for cooperation from Loki or the Allfather. All I know is that you have allowed others to control your destiny for too long, and it’s time for you to take your control back,” he added, “and if you need to talk or cry or scream, you know that I’m always here.”

My eyes filled up with tears, and I pushed them back, having cried more than enough over the situation. It felt like I couldn’t stop since the fall. It was that moment that I made the promise to myself: I would be weak no longer. I would weep over my situation no longer. I could mourn for the man Loki once was or give him no other option other than to accept my help. As my chest continued to heave due to the unchecked frustration, I grabbed the back of Thor’s neck and attacked his lips with my own. It was the only thing that felt right. It only lasted for a second before the shock forced him away from me, and he held me at a short distance. He cleared his throat, color filling his cheeks, “why did-what are you...we can’t do this when you’re still a bit drunk, Eva. I don’t know if this is you or the ale from earlier, but...you aren’t in the right state of mind for this right now,” he noted, chuckling to lighten the mood.

“Does that really matter anymore?” I asked, closing the space between us once more, and he allowed me, “I want this. Do you want this?” I asked, gazing up into his eyes.

He sighed, “you know I do, and you know I’ve wanted this for a long time. There’s a reason I haven’t done anything since we were young, though, Eva. You belong with Loki, and I don’t want to get in the way of that. I love both of you too much to ruin what you have,” he whispered, his arm snaking around my waist, telling a very different story than the one spilling from his lips.

“What do you think you would be ruining? The rubble of our love? Do you think you can shatter heart we shared anymore? Could you kill a flower that was already dead?” I asked, realizing that, while I loved Loki more than life itself, he loved me no longer, “I will love your brother until the day I die, but he has hurt me so much, I think I deserve a moment of happiness. I deserve to remember the sweetness of love, which is something I have forgotten the taste of for so long. Remind me...please,” I begged, grasping onto his robes in a desperate attempt to let him know that I would not hold anything against him.

He searched my eyes for any hesitation that could have been lingering there, but he found none. He found only loneliness and grief. Perhaps he felt sorry for me, or perhaps he was giving into urges that had lain dormant since our childhood. Either way, he kissed me. I threw my arms around his neck as he lifted me off the ground. I wrapped my legs around his waist, grunting lightly when he pressed me against the pillar he had been leaning on only moments ago. His lips were smoother than I had remembered them, and I could feel the areas he bit when he was nervous. As his left hand grasped my thigh, offering me an extra level of support aside from the pillar, his right hand steadied my face as he kissed me with more passion than I’d ever anticipated.

To my disapproval, his lips departed from mine, and he began to sprinkle kisses along my jaw and down to my neck, a place Loki always loved. As I squeezed my eyes shut, I forced the thought of him from my mind and focused on Thor. When he grazed his teeth against my neck, I arched my body into his, feeling a shiver run through me. As I arched into him, his arms wrapped around my body, squeezing me against him hard enough for me to feel every muscle and every crease even through the clothes. For the first time in such a long time, I felt small in someone’s arms. Aaldir, Hjalmar, and Loki always made me feel that way, like I never needed to worry when they were around. However, she had the opposite effect on me. I was the one to make her feel small, the one to protect her. Ever since her, I had not felt like the small one until now.

With one arm still draped over his shoulder, balancing myself, I grabbed his face with my other hand and turned his head so that he was looking into my eyes. I saw joy and desire and so much anticipation. I pressed my lips to his once more before pulling away and trailing kisses along his defined jaw and down to his neck. His hold on me tightened as I ran my lips along a sensitive spot. As I kissed him, he walked us down the hallway toward his chambers. He opened the doors with his back and shut them with his foot. When we were finally in the comfort of his room, he peeled me off of him and pushed me down onto the bed. I chewed on my bottom lip and laughed as his eyes scanned over my body.

Before I could react or speak, he joined me on the bed, nestling his body between my legs and proceeding to kiss me once more. As soon as I felt his warmth, Loki’s face flashed behind my closed eyes. I tried to blink away the tears in my eyes, but it was like he could feel my hesitance. He pulled away from the kisses and pushed himself off of me in an attempt to figure out where he had gone wrong. I shook my head, trying to collect myself, but I was failing miserably. The promise I made to myself such a short time ago was already being broken as I began to cry, “I’m sorry, Thor. I’m sorry,” I broke down, hiding my face in my hands. I felt so much guilt in that moment, so much anger at myself for being so stupid as to believe that I could just replace the love I received from Loki.

As soon as I began to cry, Thor crawled over to me and wrapped me up in his strong arms, “I know that you don’t want to hear this right now, but as your friend, I need to say it,” he stated as my body quivered and trembled in the arms of the man I wished I was meant to be with. If I was destined to be with Thor, my life would have been so much easier because he would have loved me from the very beginning until the very end. I wouldn’t have felt this pain. Maybe I was just cursed, though. Maybe it was my fault that Loki was hurt the way he was. Maybe I was at the center of his pain. Before my mind could continue down the darkened trail any further, Thor spoke, “I love you, Eva. I have loved you since before I can remember, and I’ve never stopped loving you. For a long time, I wished that you chose me instead of Loki. I wished that you would find happiness with me, but I always knew that you two were meant for each other. Even though it kills me to say it, you and I don’t belong together. You belong with Loki. You always have. And I can’t let my love for you ruin your relationship anymore than it already has,” he said, grief clear in his deep voice.

I shook my head, wiping my tears away as I found the strength to gaze up at him, “you didn’t ruin our relationship, Thor. You had nothing to do with this,” I murmured.

He sighed, “there’s something I need to tell you.”

*Thor’s POV*

I had been more surprised that she stayed after I told her the story of that day, more surprised than I was that she didn’t try to hit me. Instead, we shed tears together, and I sat with her until she fell asleep. After I told her what happened and apologized profusely, she lessened my guilt by being adamant about how it wasn’t my fault. Still, I could see the pain the truth brought her. She was heartbroken, and she went to sleep that way. A piece of me wished I had kept it from her, but it had been two years of her questioning why Loki turned his back on her, and I knew the truth.

Unable to sleep, I found myself with Heimdall in the Bifrost. Though even looking at the Bifrost brought Eva a sense of misery, she spent much time in the very spot I was standing, and I knew that it was because the her fear and sadness over that fateful day paled in comparison to love she had for the Midgardians and...her. She asked about them often, and Heimdall would always fill her in on the health and well-being of each of them. She was always the most concerned about Tony, the two of them having a special connection that I could not understand. Steve also held a special place in her heart, which I could understand much more. He was a soldier and always put the needs of everyone else above his own. He didn’t like to fight, but he did so that others could know peace. Eva did the same.

As I stood next to Heimdall, staring out at the stars, I felt his gaze shift over to me for a fraction of a second, “you told her,” he noted, clearly having cast his gaze upon us when he felt her distress. The two of them were connected the same way her and I were connected. It paled in comparison to Loki’s connection to her, but we could feel when something wasn’t quite right.

I nodded my head, “I didn’t know what else to do. I couldn’t keep it from her any longer. She deserved to know the truth,” I insisted, feeling guilty that I brought her to an even deeper level of grief but feeling hopeful that it would help her see the truth, that she had done nothing wrong, “she’s become far more destructive since Hjalmar’s death, and I sensed that she was spiraling. She’s lost so much. She blames herself for Hjalmar’s death, and she blames herself for Aaldir’s sorrow. She blames herself for Loki’s turn and believed it to have been her fault, like she could’ve stopped him from wreaking havoc on Midgard. She had every right to know the truth,” I added

“You are not wrong,” he stated, gazing back out at the stars, “she sacrificed so much for Loki, but I fear that she will now try even harder to free him, even if it means committing treason. She has no reason to show the Allfather anymore respect, for she now knows that he played a pivotal role in pushing your brother over the edge,” he added, and I gazed over at his solemn expression. He lowered his grief-stricken eyes, “I fear for her safety if she tries to disobey the orders of the King.”

“You have my word that I will do everything in my power to keep her from doing anything reckless, but she has never listened to me the way she listened to Hjalmar,” I said, thinking of one of my dearest friends, “how is he?” I asked, hoping for some words of comfort about Hjalmar’s new home in Valhalla.

Heimdall sighed, “I...cannot see him,” he confessed, hesitant to speak the words to me. I furrowed my eyebrows, confused as to how the gatekeeper and the guardian of the Nine Realms could lose track of someone. Before I could ask any questions, he turned his haunting gaze upon me, “I have searched for him, hoping to regale Eva with some stories of him when she came; however, I have not found him. I have searched every realm, every planet, every moon. I have searched the entirety of Valhalla, and I even looked for him in the Realm of the Dead. Still, I have found nothing,” he said, turning back to the stars, “I suggest keeping this between us for the time being. There is no need to put her through anymore pain right now,” he stated, strongly.

I nodded my head, “but what if she comes to you and asks about him?”

He frowned, the mere thought of it bringing a sour taste to his mouth, “then I will be forced to break the heart of a princess.”

*1 week later*

After another night spent watching over Eva and getting barely any sleep, I found myself standing beside my father, the man who was the cause of so much of her grief. She knew it now. She knew what he had done, and while I was surprised that she didn’t hate me for the role I had to play in Loki’s downfall, I was unsure of how generous she would be with my father. The two of us watched her as she practically danced around the training grounds with Sif and Ephinea. She hated fighting, but there was a side of her that came out when she fought that I had never seen before. She was skilled in battle the way no other man or woman could ever even hope to be. She blocked the attacks from each of the goddesses, and the two of them pulled no punches. Sif and Ephinea never went easy on Eva, so for Eva to hold her own against the Goddess of War and the Goddess of Strength, respectively, said so much about her skills.

As gracefully as she blocked what would have been a “finishing blow” from Ephinea, she began to take the offensive, swinging the dulled swords and moving like the ocean. I had gotten the chance to see her on the battlefield so many times throughout my life, and it always left me in awe. She had a plethora of her own weapons, many of which Aaldir had crafted for her or helped in the crafting process. He had given her two short swords that she used on occasion, and he also gave her the greatsword she used most of the time. Loki had gifted her a set of daggers, which were delicately crafted but stronger than anyone could anticipate due to their beauty. She danced around Sif and Ephinea, fighting both of them and successfully knocking them down and finishing them. After her success, she helped them back up onto their feet before starting again. I glanced over at my father, “she has grown far more skilled in the art of battle than even you could have anticipated,” I smiled, gesturing to her.

He nodded, a faint smile tugging at his lips underneath his beard, “if this is how you plan to sway my mind on the matters she has brought up time and again, it will not work,” he reminded me.

I shrugged my shoulders, “it wasn’t my intention, but it would’ve been nice,” I stated, gazing upon the girl who was so strong but so broken, “she has a point, you know...about Loki,” I murmured, wanting my words to be between us. I watched as his eyebrows raised in shock, which was understandable as I had always been fairly quiet on the matter, never explicitly taking anyone’s side, “I don’t believe you to be delusional, which is why I think you know-as well as she does-that Loki doesn’t belong in the dungeons. He is far more dangerous around people who think like him. His mind was corrupted far more after he fell. Even if we could get him back to the way he was before, when he was only trying to take over the throne, instead of killing hundreds of innocent people on Midgard, it would be better than leaving him down there,” I explained, hoping that he would listen to me with an open heart and open mind, unlike when he listened to Eva make the same case about Loki.

He gazed over at me, the icy blue eye as solemn as ever, “so, you are proposing the same thing? I release Loki into Eva’s care, knowing that he is a weakness for her? Knowing that she could never do what needed to be done if it came to it?” he asked, “I simply implore you to think through every scenario,” he added, sensing that he had offended me.

I narrowed my eyes at him, knowing that he was not completely sincere, “no, you are asking me to doubt her. You are asking me to trust her less, but you don’t know her the way I do. You didn’t see her on Midgard the way I saw her. You have no idea what she has done-the sacrifices she has made-for the good of the Nine Realms, for the good of Asgard. You don’t see what she has given up, but I have,” I growled under my breath, angry that he would try to plant the seed of doubt in my mind.

He shook his head, “I do not wish for you to doubt her, but I do wish for you to look at this from a place of objectivity. If you did, you would have the same doubts I do,” he replied, a voice as calm as the breeze that morning.

“I can look at this objectively, and that’s why I believe she could take on this task. While we cannot go back and rewrite the past, she can turn the tides in our favor. If she were somehow able to turn Loki back to our side, think of what our strength could be with an ally like him! We would be much stronger with him as our ally than with him as our enemy,” I exclaimed, gesturing out at her, “look at her, Father! Truly see her for what she is! She’s no goddess, but she possesses the same skills as one. I don’t think this is coincidence. I truly believe that she is meant to be much more than another Asgardian woman.”

“You have much to learn about her, my son,” he frowned, trying to force a smile and failing. I watched as the look in his eye became distant, like he was revisiting a memory that brought him pain. He tried to push it away, but it lingered there.

I shook my head, “I know all there is to know about her. I know her better than I know myself most of the time,” I chuckled, gazing out at the woman I was in love with. For a long time, I fancied Ephinea and Sif. The two women were stronger than anyone gave them credit for, but I couldn’t talk to them the same way I could talk to Eva. Eva was just...special. I knew every little thing about her, even though I was sure my brother knew far more, things I couldn’t even imagine. I glanced back up at my father, “there’s nothing I don’t know,” I assured him, thinking of the many secrets she had hidden from him, secrets he would never even know.

“There is so much you don’t know about her, so much that you need to know,” he said, a sad smile spreading across his lips as he gazed out at her once more before stepping away from the railing and turning to face down the hallway, “walk with me and learn,” he motioned, and I obeyed, falling in step with him and casting one final glance back at Eva. Once we were far enough away from the prying eyes and ears of everyone else, he began speaking, slowing his pace, “before you or I, before my father and his father before him, Asgard was created. Where once there had been nothing, we received a land of beauty, peace, and salvation. This was the place where the Asgardians could call home, a place that was more beautiful and rich with life than any other, and we took it all for granted,” he explained.

“The land began to dry up. Where there had once been lush forests and beautiful mountains in the distance, it was barren. The Asgardians who lived her long ago took from the world but never thought to give back. They built this city upon her natural beauty, hiding the plentiful gifts she bore to them. The creeks and streams began to dry up. People believed that it was the world’s way of grieving. She had always provided for them, always gave more of herself than they could possibly take, but they did not rejoice as their ancestors once did. They took the gift of life for granted, and they took this realm for granted. They did not thank the world for her blessings, and they did not live their lives the way we were meant to,” he continued.

“The drought of the world continued. Food was more difficult to come by, and we were running out of fresh water. We began sending people to various realms to acquire what we needed and bring it back here. We had already stripped our world of all she had to offer, and we were doing the same with as many others as possible. Life was dwindling, and we were unsure about the future of Asgard,” he said before letting out a long sigh. When I cast my eyes over to his face, I saw that he was reliving a memory that haunted him, and a sadness came over him that I hadn’t seen before, “I had an older brother growing up, a man I’ve never spoken about, a man no one speaks of anymore,” he confessed.

I furrowed my eyebrows, wondering how it could be that an entire piece of Asgard’s history was lost to me, “I forbid his name to be spoken, and there are not many who remember him, not the way I do,” he frowned, “Cul was older, stronger, and much more capable than I was. He believed himself to be the rightful King of Asgard, and when my father-your grandfather-died, Cul took the throne for himself. My father had groomed me to take his place after he died, but my brothers and I allowed Cul to rule because of his promise to keep us as his close advisors, a promise he broke shortly after his coronation. He picked from a group of his loyal followers to be his advisors. It wasn’t until he took the throne that we saw just how twisted he was, how his desire to rule festered into a madness we had never seen before.”

As we walked into the throne room, he stopped and stared up at the golden throne for a long moment, “he ordered that we strip the other planets of their resources, and if we were met with hesitation, we were to take the resources by force. He wanted to make it clear that no one would stand in his way. A part of me wants to believe that he had good intentions, that he wanted to show the Nine Realms that Asgard was still a powerful seat. However, the more he took from other planets, the faster ours was dying, so my brothers and I did what needed to be done. We stopped him,” he said, frowning at the memory. I could tell that it brought him so much pain even recalling it, so I couldn’t imagine the pain he went through when he lived it so long ago, “there was a bloodbath in this throne room. My younger brothers fell that day along with so many others, and it came down to just Cul and I. He had sent his followers away to spare their lives because he knew I wouldn’t kill him, that I would spare his life because of the ancient rules, rules he never followed but rules I couldn’t break,” he explained, glancing back over at me.

I furrowed my eyebrows, “but you broke them on that day?” I guessed, hoping it to be true.

He shook his head, a few strands of white hair falling out of place, “I couldn’t, and it wasn’t because of the ancient rules. I couldn’t kill him because he was my brother, he wasn’t the King of Asgard, not to me. I couldn’t kill him because I could still remember running around the palace with him and getting in trouble for fooling around for too long when I should have been studying battle techniques. Instead, I banished him to the Realm of Death, hoping that Death would be able to do to him what I could not bring myself to do. It was where he belonged. He delivered so many souls to Death that day alone that he deserved to face them all once more,” he said, glancing back over at the throne and narrowing his eyes, “but if I could go back with the knowledge I have now, I would have killed him when I had the chance because-”

Before he could explain his reasoning, a booming voice caused the entirety of Asgard to quake beneath our feet. It was the first time in my life I saw pure fear in my father’s eyes, “Odin!”

*Eva’s POV*

I stood in the courtyard that overlooked the Rainbow Bridge. Thor and Odin stood side-by-side in front of Sif, Ephinea, Fandral, Hogun, Volstagg, and I. Behind us were members of Odin’s kingsguard. While I had not wished to even wake up at all that week-let alone see the Allfather-I stood there out of the love I had for Asgard and my willingness to protect the people from any intruder, including the one that stood before us with his battleaxe strapped to his back. He stood the same height as Hjalmar once did, only slightly taller than the God of Thunder himself. The man before us all held himself like a King with his shoulder straightened and his head held high. He looked massive, like he was a force to be reckoned with. I had never met him, but he looked so oddly familiar to me, like a face I had seen only once before.

Dark brown hair that matched his short beard fell in waves nearly as long as mine, but he pulled the strands from his face and fastened them behind his head to see clearly. Even from our distance, I could see myself clearly in his piercing green eyes. Those eyes were filled with so much anger, so much hatred, but they were still so beautiful and pure...a green that matched the colors of spring. My breath hitched in my throat, and it felt like I was going to suffocate. I knew those eyes. I knew them from somewhere, and when he spoke, I began trembling with unchecked fear, “I am Ezra, son of Cul, and I have been sent here by my father, Cul, son of Bor, the rightful heir to the throne of Asgard. I have been instructed to deliver a message to the usurper, your false king,” he spat out, grimacing at Odin. I was shocked by his words, unsure whether or not they were truthful. I had never heard of Odin having any brothers aside from Vili and Ve, and neither of them had any children of their own. It was clear by the looks on the faces of my comrades that I was not the only one who was confused by his claims.

Even if he did, Odin was our King, and for an outsider to show up in Asgard and insult the throne, it was unacceptable. While I was angry at Odin for justifiable reasons, I did not hate him, and I would still fight to protect Asgard and her people. As I made a motion to step forward, Ephinea put out her hand to hold me back. When I tried to pass her still, she grabbed my arm, making her movements as small and unnoticeable as possible to keep from gaining the attention of the the outsider. She gave my wrist a gentle squeeze, trying to remind me without words that this wasn’t the right time. The small motions still pulled the attention of Ezra, and he glanced over at me in particular. His green eyes scanned over my body, and he smirked, “you’re just itching to kill me, aren’t you?” he asked before glancing back at Odin, “I see why you keep some of your best warriors chained up in the dungeons-like your son. It must be terrifying to have this one roaming around,” he said, gesturing to me.

A fury erupted in my chest as he mentioned Loki. I gritted my teeth, my chest continuing to rise and fall at an alarming rate. Still, I remained silent, not wishing to escalate the situation. Odin spoke up, “did you come here to discuss the population of Asgard’s dungeons, or do you have another motive?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow with a mischievous grin. He was pulling a page out of Loki’s book, smiling in the face of danger. It was one of the things that made me love Loki even more, and it made me see Odin as so much more than I had been willing to in the past. In that moment, he became so much more three-dimensional than ever before. While he had forsaken Loki in the past and made his own mistakes, there was a piece of him that still loved the young trickster. When I saw him find his confidence the way Loki did, it made me think of the impact Loki’s actions must’ve had on the Allfather. While I wished to speak with Odin about it, I knew that this was neither the time nor the place for such discussions.

Ezra cast one more glance over at me with a smirk that made me sick to my stomach, but he turned his attention back to Odin when I grimaced at him, “my father sent me with his demands. In his exile, he has been building allegiances with many people within the Nine Realms and beyond, and I can assure you that none of them are particularly fond of Asgard. They would be willing and able to tear Asgard apart at my father’s command, but he is willing to go about this peacefully,” Ezra stated in a menacing tone.

“And what does Cul want in return for his promise of peace?” Odin inquired.

Ezra chuckled, stepping forward, “he wants the throne back, the throne you stole from him,” he growled, pointing a finger at the Allfather, “he demands you hand over the throne of Asgard, and in return, you will be exiled to the Realm of Death just like you did to him. As I see it, you have two options: you can surrender and meet his demands, which will lead to a peaceful life for your people; or, you can resist, which will lead to our return and the subsequent bloodbath that will take place. Either way, we will take the throne of Asgard, but your decision could save thousands,” Ezra said, offering Odin the ultimatum as if he was in any position to do that. He came to Asgard with no supporters behind him and threatened a King with the entire Asgardian army at his disposal.

Odin smiled at the man in front of him, and I saw the condescending undertones, causing me to smile as well. While I harbored some ill will toward him upon recent news, I could not bring myself to hate him or declare that he was a poor king. He held himself with strength and dignity, which was something that would not work in the strangers favor, “you forget the third option,” he smirked, and Ezra cocked his head, clenching his fists, “it’s where I let your armies come, and I defeat Cul just like I did all those years ago. I had no problem doing it then, and I won’t fail now. You do not look for peace, but I pity you if you try to fight us. We know much about what must be sacrificed to maintain peace, and I do not wish for a war. However, I will do what needs to be done should your father attempt to wage a war against Asgard and her allies,” he explained, “so, you can tell my brother that his proposition was met with resistance.”

Ezra chuckled, stepping even closer to Odin. As soon as he was too close, the entire army behind us drew their weapons, but Odin raised a hand, wishing to entertain the boy for even longer. I listened to the warriors lower their weapons, but they did not put them back in the sheathe. I glanced down at Thor’s hands that were balled up in fists. Ezra leaned in close to Odin and spoke, “well, I came here for your surrender, and I’m not about to leave empty-handed,” he murmured before stepping away from the two of them and pointing at me. Once more, his eyes trailed along every piece of my body before locking eyes with me, “I’ll take that one,” he dictated, closing the space between the two of us.

Before he could stand directly in front of me, Ephinea stepped between the two of us, “try to take her, and I will rip you in half with my bare hands,” she threatened, rage clear in her voice. She had always been like an older sister to me, so it didn’t surprise me that she would react like that to someone who was threatening my safety.

Ezra glanced over at her but then back at me, “call off your dog, pet,” he instructed, cocking his head to the side with a smile filled with false admiration.

I scowled at the nickname he decided to give me, and I felt a chill run down my spine at the thought that I could be traded off to ensure peace, even if that peace would be short-lived. Odin’s stunned silence was not helping ease my troubled thoughts, but I had to act with strength and grace just as I always tried to, just as my father taught me all my life. I raised my hand and rested it upon Ephinea’s shoulder as I stepped out from behind her. She gazed over at me, horrified and flustered because of my actions. She had no idea what I was planning to do or why I was planning to do it, but I offered her a short glance that I hoped would set her mind at ease. When I stepped between her and Ezra, he didn’t break eye contact with me. He smirked, one of his eyes twitching ever so slightly as he narrowed them at me.

He searched my eyes-for what, I didn’t know-and when he didn’t find what he was looking for, he grabbed my chin and brought his face impossibly closer to mine, “tell me, what is it you want, pet? Do you wish for acceptance? Strength? Power? A real family? A place where you belong?” he asked, “I’m sorry to break your heart, but you won’t find any of that here, not with the current ruler. And, what about Loki? I’m sure you want him back, too, don’t you?” he asked, causing my breath to hitch in my throat. How did Ezra know about Loki? How did he know about my deepest desires? As I stared up at him with wide eyes, terrified that he was able to pick me apart so easily. He raised his eyebrows, sympathy crossing over his face, “you have so much to learn, beautiful, and if you cooperate, we’ll give you the answers you seek and the opportunity to live out the rest of your life with Loki,” he murmured before grabbing a fistful of my hair and pulling me even closer to him, “but should you fail, I will find your girl on Midgard and tear her apart in front of you just for fun!” he growled, my heart twisting and shattering into a million pieces before he pushed me down onto the ground.

“THAT’S ENOUGH!” Thor’s loud voice boomed, almost like thunder itself. I could barely think of anything aside from Ezra’s threat. I was paralyzed with fear at the very idea that enemies of Asgard knew about her, that they could use her against me. Thor spoke as I tried to collect myself, “you are sorely mistaken if you think we’ll just hand her over to you. Now, we have entertained this madness for long enough. If you try to take her, you will not live to see another sunrise,” Thor promised, glancing down at me and nodding his head. I knew that I would have nothing to fear with Thor by my side. Even if Odin, for some reason, wanted to send me away, Thor would betray his father just to keep me safe.

Ezra chuckled again, laughing in the face of the God of Thunder, “I haven’t seen a sunrise in nearly 300 years,” he confessed, and a piece of my heart broke for him. I couldn’t help but see small pieces of Loki in him, the anger, the pain, the hate. I had nothing to compare Ezra to, though. I knew the man Loki used to be, so I knew that pieces of him were still alive. Still, everyone could be saved, and that included the enemies of Asgard. Ezra continued, “no matter! I’m used to taking what I want by any means necessary, and I don’t lose,” he said before unsheathing his axe in one swift motion and swinging it down toward Thor.

In the split second it took Ezra to begin the attack, I jumped up to my feet and drew Hellbreaker, one of the many swords my father had helped forge for me. Right before his blade could graze my prince, I stepped in front of it, catching the handle of his battleaxe with the blade of my sword and stopping him from hurting Thor. His eyes widened in clear astonishment. I was sure someone like him didn’t anticipate anything extraordinary, especially not from the person he nicknamed “pet” only moments prior. I pushed him away from the Thor and I, “you don’t lose?” I asked, grinning up at the intruder, “well, neither do I!”

[boarix]

Wraith in the Ruins: A Fallout 4 Story Part IV

Concussive Fracture

Trigger warnings: canon violence, language, gun & drug use. Suggestive/mature content

Game spoilers!

Bloody Mess Warning!

 Nick Valentine was hyperventilating. Catching sight of his former body, coupled with the intense, overwhelming emotions that permeated the room, he found the simple act of breathing to be immeasurably difficult. He would have fallen as soon as he stood up from the memory lounger had Hancock not caught him. Wraith produced a paper bag, seemingly from nowhere and passed it to them with instructions to, “just breathe”.

Nearly everyone in the room was crying: Wraith, Hancock, Ellie and even Valentine himself. Clearly uncomfortable Dr. Amari excused herself politely.

Standing against the wall, Deacon and MacCready remained dry-eyed. The former merc called out his congratulations, even though the whole affair was rather unsettling to him. Seeing as how the crying, hugging and all around back slapping didn’t seem to be winding down, he found a chair to plop in and tried not to look too impatient. The angle afforded him a rare look at Deacon’s eyes and he was surprised to see the high level of anxiety they held. The fact that he was directing it all straight at Wraith made MacCready’s hackles rise. Something was wrong.

Before MacCready could raise a fuss Hancock waved his arms to gain everyone’s attention and began trying to herd the group to the stairs. He had a special dinner planned in honor of Valentines first ever meal and was obviously excited. As they passed him, MacCready could see that Valentine and Ellie were holding hands. Fingers interlocked, it appeared very intimate. Deciding to let it go for now, he afforded them a smile and gave the detective a pat on the back of his own.

Sniffling, Wraith stopped in front of Deacon and gave him a grateful smile, “Thank you for this. Really. I know what it involves… what this means.”

“Hang back a second.” Deacon’s tone was all business.

Giving Deacon a dirty look, Hancock was inclined to tell him to piss off but moved on when Wraith gently touched his shoulder. As he passed MacCready he hooked an arm through one of his, “C’mon, little brother, the spooks need a whisper session.”

“Your guy did an amazing job on Val’s face. It still looks like him, but with… ya know, more skin.”

“If anyone is deserving, it’s good ol’ Synth Nick.” Deacon’s smile abruptly vanished and he removed his sunglasses, “I have to talk to you about the Gunners. You know that they started to recruit raiders to pad their numbers? Well, it’s beginning to back-fire on them. You have been destroying their leadership and things are… chaotic to say the least.”

“Not to sound narcissistic, but I’ve been doing that on purpose. I figure if things get bad enough they might want to play nice and try and see if the grass is greener on the Minutemen side of things.”

“Oh, things are bad that’s for sure! They’re running low on ammo, food… everything but chems. They can’t raid your settlements without being annihilated thanks to Daddy Danse and all his baby dragons… Uh, let’s agree that I never said ‘Daddy Danse’.”

“Ha! Not a chance! And it’s ‘Dragoon’ not ‘dragon’.”

“Right, ‘Drag Race Danse’, got it. All joking aside, the place is a powder keg. Clans are beginning to form and they are doing a lot of in-fighting and cannibalizing.” He shuddered in revulsion.  

“How is it you are so well informed?” Her eyes grew wide as the realization hit her, “Wait… don’t tell me you went to the Plaza? Deacon! You can’t do that! You are far too important to the Railroad to be running interference for me. Not that I don’t appreciate the information and warning. Well… maybe I’ll go and drop in; be the lit match, so to speak.”

“No!” Deacon reached out and grabbed her arms; driven by his urgency to make uncharacteristic physical contact, “You are the one thing they all agree on!” Giving her a little shake, he tried to drive his point home, “The clan that claims your head will establish itself as the leader. Your death has become the priority of the entire Gunner nation!”  

“So what else is new?”

“This isn’t like it was before… the Gunners… had rules and followed orders. They wouldn’t have come at you without measuring acceptable loss. Now, it’s a free-for-all.”

“What would you have me do?”

“Stay here. Stay in Goodneighbor.” He gripped her arms tighter as she shook her head, “Hancock can protect you here. Hell, you know he would love to have you and MacCready all to himself.”

She gently but firmly removed herself from his grasp, “You want me to hide. No, I’m sorry but I can’t just abandon my settlements like that. I have so many projects going… Plus, Shaun is still in Sanctuary and I really should spend more time with him.”

“You have Codsworth, Curie, Dogmeat and Danse all there with him. Strong, Cait and th’ Hounds are at the Rocket… you know Shaun will be safe. You know the further he is from you the safer he is!”

Wraith let her pride and anger override any amount of self-preservation, “Let them come at me! I’ll rip them to pieces and feed em to Strong!” Her eyes burned with a berserker’s fire and she flexed her hands menacingly, “I’m not going to hide from them and I won’t let them destroy everything I’ve built.”

“The general doesn’t FIGHT ON THE FRONT LINES!” Spittle flew as panic drove him to anger. Feeling the blood burning in his cheeks, he knew he had to be as red as Wraith was. He realized yelling at her would never work, so after several deep breaths, Deacon tried one last time to appeal to her sense of reason, “That’s part of it; you are the sole reason the Commonwealth is on an up-swing. If you were to be killed now…”

Waving her hand dismissively, Wraith cut him off, “I have already considered that and have contingencies in place in the event of my death. There is a whole file cabinet in Sanctuary filled with plans and ideas, resource allocation… a will if you will.” She tried a smile out on him for the sake of the play on words, but apparently he wasn’t up for smiles, “Everything will move forward just fine if I buy it. It won’t matter in the grand scheme of things.”

Deacon put his sunglasses back on and motioned for her to precede him up the stairs. Then softly, almost whispering, “It’ll matter to me.”

 A few days later Hancock, MacCready and Wraith were all jogging to Sanctuary via Graygarden. Someone had alerted the Minuteman to a potential attack by the Rust Devils and Wraith had agreed to look into it. Although lacking a unit from the Heavy Dragoons, Graygarden was positively bristling with turrets of various lethalities. She found it unlikely that the Devils would be that stupid, but still, a threat was a threat.

The addition of Hancock was a surprise and Wraith suspected that there had been a, “Keep Wraith Alive in Spite of Herself” meeting between her friends. She didn’t mind as it was rare the three of them got to spend this much time together. She enjoyed listening to the two men’s easy banter and especially loved it when Hancock would try to fluster the younger man with his innuendo and blatant flirting. MacCready’s reactions varied on his moods and he would sometimes flirt back. On those occasions Wraith was left feeling… warm.  

As the trio moved along and the conversation lapsed into comfortable silence, she found herself watching how the two men moved: MacCready had an easy, loping gait that reminded her of a lanky wolf and Hancock had the smooth grace of a hunting cat. Both men had incredible endurance and she knew for a fact that Mac could run the entire length of the Commonwealth without breaking stride, (as long as it wasn’t raining). Her thoughts took a slight deviation as she imagined other ways their endurance might benefit her.

Stop it, Wraith. Imagine how red your face is right now… god forbid Hancock asks me… or looks at me… Just, stop it.

Once in Graygarden, Supervisor White seemed surprised by the offer of aid, “There have been no Devils skulking around here Daaarrrrling!”

Unconvinced, Wraith and her boys hung out snacking on mutfruit for a time. Finally giving up, they left with only an hour or so of daylight left. MacCready grumbled about running through the night but Wraith only smiled blithely at him.

As if the weather had read Wraith’s earlier thoughts, storm clouds began building just as the sun lowered on the horizon. MacCready’s standard “rain whine” kicked in, “… and we’ll be even more miserable…”

“Christ, little brother! Are you a cat or what?”

“It’s fine, guys. It’s dark anyway so let’s just find a place to stop.”

The two men exchanged a look, “Are you sure that’s wise, sister? There isn’t much out here at the moment.”

Wraith waved his concerns away, “There’s an armored truck just on the other side of this ridge. It’ll be cozy but should do the trick.”

After a cold dinner Hancock volunteered to take first watch but Wraith objected, “You guys never wake me up for my shift!”

“Ok, I’ll make you a deal. If you actually fall asleep, I promise I’ll wake MacCready up for his shift. But you are on three, you feel me?”

Putting her hand on MacCready’s chest and looking him right in the eye, Wraith made sure there could be no misunderstanding, “You wake me up.”

The closeness and physical contact sent a flutter of butterflies through MacCready’s guts, “Yeah. Sure.” The fluttering intensified as she gave his chest a pat before climbing into her bed-roll.

Hancock watched the interaction with a wolf-like grin.

 The night passed uneventfully with the rain stopping around midnight. MacCready dutifully if not reluctantly woke Wraith for the third watch. Exiting the truck she found the cool, pre-dawn air to be more refreshing than the fitful sleep she had.

Just as the first light of the sun was casting a pink glow to the sky, she felt eyes on her. She tried to tell herself that it was just Deacon’s infectious paranoia, especially since there wasn’t anything showing up on her Pip-Boy.

It might be radstag or one of those unfortunate-looking crows….

Deciding to trust her instinct rather than technology she reentered the truck to wake the boys. She placed a gentle hand on Hancock’s shoulder and he was instantly awake, “It’s okay, I just have a bad feeling is all. Wake Mac up I’m going back outside.”

If she had meant gently she didn’t specify so Hancock smacked him across the face with his bed-roll.

“The shit?!”

“Awwww! You did a swear! I’m tellin’.”

“Nice… real mature.”

“Hot damn, MacCready! Is that for me? You really shouldn’t have.”

“Well, who sez it’s for you?”

“As the sexiest individual in the truck…”

“Ha!”

As much as she was enjoying their back-and-forth, she was also prickling with ominous foreboding, which caused her to shush them more harshly than she meant to, “Quiet! Hancock, go do a wide sweep. Mac, you stay by the truck and both of you stay low.”

As Hancock crept off through the tall grass and scrub, Wraith pulled MacCready to her to whisper in his ear, “I’m going hunting. You stay in cover! You hear me? I don’t know how many there are, so stay the fuck down!”

With her hand on the back of his neck and mouth just brushing his cheek, despite the danger they were in, MacCready felt the flicker of heat growing in his stomach, “Okay boss, I’m in the grass.” As she melted away into the early dawn gloom, he whispered to himself, “Goddamn she’s scary.”

 Hancock encountered them first, south of the ridge. Had the Gunners sniped him from the high-ground they might have had a chance. As it was, the 5 person group, equipped mainly for melee, would find themselves staggeringly deficient against the ghoul.

At least one of them had a powerfist…

Hancock rushed the powerfist wielder, who surprised by how quickly the ghoul closed the distance, took a step backward, placing all his weight on one leg. At the last second Hancock dropped and with one hand, drove the heel of his palm into the Gunner’s locked knee buckling it. As the Gunner fell forward Hancock’s other hand reached for his throat, crushing it easily. Smoothly using his opponent’s momentum, he popped the dying man’s body up and over his own, throwing it onto one of his comrades.

Spinning away to his left, Hancock’s right arm flicked out and a small throwing knife suddenly bloomed from a 3rd Gunner’s throat. Appearing to have almost precognitive reflexes, Hancock easily caught the baseball bat as his 4th opponent swung for his head. Trapping the bat under his arm he then drove his palm into the Gunner’s locked elbow, causing it to bend in the opposite direction that nature intended. A quick knife flash across the throat ended her agonized scream.

A shot rang out and Hancock imagined he could feel the rush of air as the bullet narrowly missed his face. He threw yet another knife as a distraction as he rushed her, twisting her arm down and pushing a knife through her hand, pinning it to her own haunch. Picking up her dropped pipe-pistol he shot her point blank in the face.

All this before the last Gunner even got out from under his dead companion’s body. The last thing he saw was Hancock’s smiling face.

 MacCready heard the reverberating crack of the pistol, “Hancock…” He very much disliked how he couldn’t see either of his two best friends. Then, higher up the hill to the north he saw a brief flash of light: the sun reflecting off of a scope.

Wraith had 3 kills of her own at this time, all in total silence. However, her 4th target somehow perceived her at the last second and the two rose out of cover, grappling.

Wraith didn’t see the sniper. Wraith was going to be shot. Wraith was going to die.

“No…”

What happened next appeared to Wraith as though in slow motion, as if she had taken a hit of Jet.

MacCready rose from cover, his focus trained solely on the threat to Wraith. Pulling his trigger, he killed the sniper. At the same moment, to his left, an unseen Gunner assassin rose from cover and shot the young man in the head from only 6 feet away. As his head snapped back, a spray of blood fountained through the air like a nightmare rainbow. Then MacCready’s body crumpled into the grass.

“NOOOOGGGGAAAAARRRRGGHHHHHHHHAAAAA!”

 Hancock was retrieving his knives and grumbling aloud how hard it was to, “find good dance partners these days…” when he heard Wraith’s agonized scream. It ripped through him and left him clutching his chest above his heart, “No. No. No. No!”

 Wraith was beating someone to death with a human arm. Most likely it was the arm’s former owner. Covered head to toe in blood and worse, she was roaring incoherently. Hancock rushed to her side yelling her name. She turned and raised her macabre club above her head, preparing to swing it at him.

Recognition flashed across her berserk maddened face and she began sobbing and gesturing with the limb as if it were a pointer, “He was right here! I saw him! Where is he?”

Taking the arm from her, Hancock flung it away, “Wraith, is any of this your blood?”

“I can’t find him. He was just here!”

“Sister, are you hurt? Where the fuck is MacCready?” In his fear and panic he grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her none too gently.

She looked up at him with a face so lost in child-like fear it broke his heart, “They shot him, John. I saw him die. But now… now I can’t find… his body.”

Hancock stood in complete shock, “You can’t… his…?”

“He fell right here. Oh… oh God…”

Letting go of her shoulders, Hancock closed his eyes. He didn’t want to look for MacCready’s dead body.

If there’s no… then he can’t be gone.

“Wraith, if he was… if he was dead he would be here. The dead don’t move themselves around and you’ve ripped apart everyone else here that could have moved him, right?” Hancock took a deep shuddering breath, “He must have gotten up and went for better cover; it probably wasn’t a kill-shot.” He saw a faint glimmer of hope spark in her eyes.

Oh please, please let me be right!

Calling his name, they each went in opposite directions. Wraith found his hat and was disheartened by how blood-soaked it was. The two rifle bullets he kept in the brim were missing and she was overcome by a completely irrational need to find them. Palming through the tall grass she almost didn’t hear Hancock calling for her. Gripping his hat to her chest she ran to the ghoul’s waving form, terrified at what she might see.

MacCready was walking north. His steps where stumbling and feral-like. The entire left side of his face and head was covered in blood and it was running freely down his neck. Dragging his rifle behind him, his arm was bent at a weird angle. He looked like a zombie.

Unlike a zombie, and somehow even more disturbing than his appearance, was his halting and rambling running commentary, “Save… her. Not this time. NooooOOOOOO!”

Chocking back sobs, Wraith ran and stood in front of him. Grabbing him by the shoulders she tried to get him to halt his march. He tried to side-step around her and would have fallen, but once again Hancock was there to catch a dear friend.

MacCready continued to push against Wraith with surprising strength and was almost dragging Hancock behind him, talking the entire time, “I can’t… not again… ALONE! Noooooo. I’m not going to let her die this time. I’ll fuCKING KILL ALLL YOU MOTHER FUCKING SONS OF COCKS!”

Hancock was unwilling to throw him bodily to the ground but was finding it impossible to stop him gently. It was as if he had developed super mutant strength, “What the hell is wrong with him?!”

“He���s concussed… it looks like the bullet ricocheted… I can’t see! We have to get him to sit down.”

“Hey, little brother, it’s okay…”

“No! I have to sAVE WRAITH! FUCK YOU!”

“I’m right here, Mac! You saved me.”

Bringing his rifle to bear, he was actively fighting them now, “Nooooo. She can’t die! Not again. She don’t see…”

Letting go Wraith took a deep breath in and in her loudest “momma” voice told him off, “Robert Joseph MacCready! Sit your MOTHER FUCKING ASS DOWN!”

MacCready dropped to his knees like a stone. Looking up at her with a shocked, hurt expression his lip quivered, “You yelled at me.” He turned to Hancock, “she said ‘fuck’!”

“She sure did, little brother. She means business, so you better mind her.”

“Well, okay.”

Pulling his matted, blood-soaked hair away from the wound, she could see a significant gash, down to bone, just above his ear. “I’ll treat the laceration and stop the bleeding, but we need to get him back to Goodneighbor; back to Dr. Amari. I don’t know the first thing about brain injury.”

MacCready was staring at Hancock with a confused look, “Hey, you look just like Hancock used to.”

“Is that right?”

“Yeah. He’s like, my favorite guy. He’s so good but he doesn’t think so. He’s always helping annoying people. If it wasn’t for him giving me a chance when no one else would I’d never met Wraith. She saved my son. I love her, but I’m pretty sure she’s in love with Hancock.”

Blushing furiously, Wraith refused to look at Hancock, “He’s still moving around too much. Would you hold him please?”

“Sure thing, sister.” Easing MacCready back onto his butt, Hancock wrapped his arms around him from his right side, “Hold still, little brother.”

Sighing, MacCready leaned his head back onto Hancock’s chest, which put his head at a perfect angle to Wraith, “Hancock calls me that too. Sometimes it pisses me off but then I like it sometimes. This is really nice. You know, you remind me a lot of Hancock.”

“So I’ve been told.”

“I miss Lucy,” MacCready’s cerulean eyes filled with tears, “she was my wife before she died.” Suddenly very still, his eyes locked onto Wraith’s light green ones with such intensity that she stopped her work and leaned back from him, “Lucy?” His arms shot up out of Hancock’s embrace and he cradled Wraith’s face in his hands. He pulled her to him in a deeply passionate kiss.  

Hancock made a strange sound, as if he’d been hit in the stomach with a powerfist.

Pulling away, Wraith was as red as a tato, “No, Mac. I’m Wraith, not Lucy.” Standing up she turned her back to the two men, trying to get herself under control, “We should go. We need to get him to Amari fast. We can take turns carrying him and we need to keep him awake.”

“I’ve got him.” Hancock’s tone was annoyed, “C’mon, little brother, time for a piggy-back ride.”

“Oh cool! Fun!”

“Now I know yer concussed…”

Wraith was repacking her field med kit, “Okay, you can have first turn, but I assure you I can carry him. Plus I have Buffout if I need it.”

“I said I’ve got him!” Hancock snapped at her, “It’s bad enough you took him in the first place.”

 The trip back to Goodneighbor was awkward to say the least. Wraith couldn’t understand Hancock’s sudden mood change. He had never been the jealous type before.

It’s not like there is really anything to be jealous of, is there? Who is he mad about? Is he mad that Mac kissed me? Clearly he’s not in his right mind! What the fuck does he mean by me ‘taking him’? He thinks I stole Mac?

They did their best to keep MacCready awake by asking him questions about whatever confused and random events he was babbling on about. He kept combining Lucy and Wraith into one person. Worse still was when he would actively fight against Hancock so he could return to save Wraith.

In desperation, she turned on the radio and suggested that MacCready sing along. It wasn’t working until Hancock started to sing, Into Each Life Some Rain Must Fall, then, MacCready immediately stopped struggling and was listening with rapt attention to the ghoul’s voice.

 Amari seemed optimistic, “There is nothing I can give him, but I believe with proper rest he will be himself again. I would strongly suggest he stays here under observation for the next few days, however.”

Hancock told Wraith to go and clean the gore off of herself in Irma’s shower, “You’ll freak him out if he wakes up, I mean really wakes up, and sees you looking like a mutant’s meat bag.”

Irma was more than happy to lend Wraith her shower as well as a (surprisingly tame) dress to change into. As she stepped off the landing, she could see Hancock had just finished getting MacCready changed. Lacking any real hospital gowns, he had put him in a pair of pajama bottoms and a bathrobe.

The silence was leaden and uncomfortable. Hancock felt compelled to do what he felt was necessary, but it would be one of the hardest things he had ever done.

Jesus; look at her! She’s fucking adorable in a dress! She looks so tired and sad… It’s best though. It’s best for them. I’m… I’m in their way.

“Well, I hope you’re happy.” He could see her confusion and that his words had already hurt her, “Deacon tried to warn you. He told you and yet, here we are.”

“I’m sorry, Hancock. I thought I had it under control. I guess I’ve been feeling invincible lately.”

“You may be but what about the rest of us?” He drew his hand through the air above MacCready’s unconscious form like he was showing off a new car, “How about the kid here? Does he look invincible to you?”

Fight back, Wraith.

Sniffling she hung her head, abashed, “You’re right. I should have seen through the false Graygarden report. They knew exactly where we would be… I should have left him here with you in Goodneighbor.”

Fight back, Wraith.

Hancock snorted, “You would have been killed. This idiot clearly is in love with you; what would your death do to him?”

Fight back… please…

“Do you care what the consequences of your actions are? Do you give a fuck about any of us?!”

That did it.

“What the fuck!?” She stabbed a finger at his chest, forcing him a step backward, “How could you even fucking ask me that? All that I’ve done has been for all of you!” Throwing her hands out wide she gestured emphatically, “I’ve practically rebuilt the entire fucking Commonwealth for you!”

“Yes, that’s right, Queen Fucking Wraith.” He turned away from her and headed for the stairs, “Well I’m done. I’m not going to follow you around, watching you killing yourself and anyone dumb enough to be with you!”

She followed him to the landing, hands out palms up, her body asking questions that she couldn’t articulate, “Are you running from me, John McDonough?”

Hancock stopped for a second on the first floor landing. With his back to her, Wraith couldn’t see how much pain he was in. Then, squaring his shoulders, he left her standing in the stairwell, tears on her cheeks.

“Wraith?” Whipping around she could see MacCready standing in the basement doorway. Arms out to either side, he was using the doorframe to hold himself upright. He had removed the bathrobe and was shivering. “What happened to me? I feel really sick. Where’s Hancock?”

“Oh, Mac, you shouldn’t be standing.” Wiping her face hurriedly, she ducked under his arm and led him back to the clinic bed. “You got shot saving my stupid ass.”

“Oh… yeah?” He was reluctant to let her go, wrapping both his arms around her. “You’re so tiny without all your stuff on. You smell good. Are you wearing a dress? You look so cute!”

“Thanks, kid.” She carefully disentangled herself from his hug and eased him down on the bed, “And you… you are still loopy. Don’t move too fast or you’ll barf.”

“Ugh! Why do you call me ‘kid’ all the time? I’m adult! And I have a freaking kid of my own!”

“I imagine it’s for the same reason that Hancock calls you ‘little brother’.”

“Where is he?” MacCready straightened up in alarm and winced at the sudden movement.

“He’s fine. He will… be back before you know it.” The lie was easier at that moment. She would tell him everything later.

Well… maybe not everything…

Even back under the blanket, MacCready was still shivering, “It’s kinda cold down here.”

“It’s because you took the robe off.” She went and picked it up off the floor and offered it back to him.

He shook his head, wincing, “I don’t like the way it wraps around my legs.”

“I’ll see if I can find another blanket.”

MacCready caught her hand as she moved away, “Would you… lay down with me?”

Wraith’s mind was a swirling mass of emotions as MacCready snuggled up to her.

“This is nice. I should get shot more often. You smell nice.”

“So I’ve been told.”

         Thank you for reading! Like what you read? Looking for more? Please see the master-link in my tags: Wraith in the Ruins. I’ll also be reblogging it from time to time. As always any questions/comments/concerns my ask is open. =^..^=

[heelturntoo]

Tread Lightly, She is Near

Summary: Tim spends his first night as a real Robin

Next you're going to tell me how simple it all is."

"Well, yeah. It's pretty basic math."

On his first night living in Wayne Manor, Tim lies, unable to sleep, staring up at the roof of his bedroom.

He had stayed in The Cave, curled under the weight of his cloak, until four AM, pretending to work as he monitored Batman from the cave and then watched him go through his warm down and debrief. The truth is he hasn’t retained more than a half-dozen data points all night about the villains he had been tasked to study.

When even Batman was ready to finish up for the night, he had asked to stay down in the cave a little longer, to more fully accustom himself to the computer’s system.  But Batman had been stern. “We sleep when we can. That’s as important a part of the job as any other if we want to maximise operation at peak capacity.” He had said, not unkindly and sent Tim to go change.

It was easier to be Robin. As Robin, he felt tougher, safer. He could keep the pain at arm’s length. It was all harder to deal with when he was just Tim. The pain felt sharper, more immediate. 

At the foot of the stairs, Bruce, now in sweats, had reached out and, when Tim gave a tiny nod, placed his hand on his shoulder. “You’re doing very well.”

“T-thank you.”

Bruce had walked him to the door of the guest room – no, not the guest room any longer – his room now, Alfred had said, for as long as he needed it, but hadn’t come inside. “I’m just down the hall. You know where to find me?”

“Yes.”

“Good night.”

It’s a nice room, if impersonal. His duffel bag and boxes of belongings still sit on the floor. Alfred had wanted to unpack them, but Tim had asked him not to, preferring to do it himself.

There had been a tray sitting on the table by his window when he came in; a glass of milk and a sandwich. Alfred had gone to bed as soon as Bruce had jumped out of the car and proved himself not in need of stitching up. That was, apparently, his custom, but he had left the snack for Tim before retiring. Tim just hadn’t been able to summon up an appetite.

Now he is lying in bed, staring straight at the ceiling, willing himself to sleep.

Bruce will be disappointed with him if he doesn’t sleep.

He has been released from school this week, in deference to his father’s illness and his mother’s death.  The funeral will be Thursday. There was no family to help organise the fine details of the memorial, so his father’s lawyer had looked after the legal side, and Alfred had looked after the personal details.  Alfred is good at that sort of thing. Tim is beginning to realise that Alfred is good at everything.

So, it doesn’t actually matter if he doesn’t get any sleep. It’s okay if he wastes the rest of the night thrashing, or lying, gazing up at the roof. He doesn’t actually have anywhere to be.

Except, if he does not sleep now, he won’t be sharp come tonight and there is no excuse for that.

Nightwing had promised to come over later today too and play video games with him. Tim had told him thank you, but that his aerial work was still weak and could they practice that instead, please?  They had compromised on Dick taking him to the track and showing him how to do pin turns on the bike as long as Dick could take him out for burgers after.

He tries shutting his eyes.  Whenever he does, he sees his mother’s body on the slab in the mortuary when he had been taken by Bruce to legally identify it - her. He hears the beep of the respirator doing his Dad’s breathing for him. When he thinks about those things, his stomach bucks and his breathing quickens. All the control, the mastery over fear he had maintained during their kidnapping, is slipping through his fingers like smoke. To his mortification, he realises he is crying.

He buries his head in his pillow and bites down on it, trying to stop himself from making a noise. God, please let Bruce not have heard that. Please.

After a while of quiet sniffling, he throws the covers off himself, pulls the throw from the end of the bed and wraps it around himself like it is Robin’s cap. He discretely wipes his eyes on the corner. Then he slips out of his room.

The mahogany panelling makes everything in the manor’s upstairs corridor seem darker, but dawn is starting to slide through the eastern window, enough to see by. Alfred had told them that the floorboards are designed to squeak, a nightingale floor to act as an extra layer of security if someone dangerous makes it as far as the manor. He hasn’t learned the trick to walking silently across it yet, but he does the best he can. He reaches the top of the stairs, wonders about the likelihood of being able to get into the cave without Bruce or Alfred being alerted and decides it is not very likely. He keeps walking.

Eventually, he comes to a door and eases it open.

The room is spotless. Alfred wouldn’t abide dust. There is a copy of The Big Sleep thrown down on the bedspread, as if the room’s occupant has just left for a moment and will be right back. But things are too tidy, and the air is thick, undisturbed. After less than a year, the room is already turning from a bedroom into a museum.

He walks a circuit of it once, afraid to touch anything in case it would be seen as an intrusion. It’s just an ordinary room, books,  a sleek laptop closed on the desk  and a closet full of clothes that will never be worn again. There is a big bay window, east facing with a window seat set beneath it. Outside, the woodlands are a riot of autumn colours, red and gold and deep green. Silver mists gird the lawns. Beyond the forest, the city lies, handsome and unthreatening at this distance, like a lounging apex predator.

Wrapping his blanket-cape around him he sits down, curling into the deep pillows of the window seat.

Ives had called yesterday, and the day before that and there had been a card sent over signed by all the kids in his homeroom. People know how to do these things properly in Gotham. He has signed a couple himself in the past. One for Cecily when her sister had been hit by joker venom. One for Mark after the fire that had killed his dad.

There had been one for Jason too, or for Bruce and Alfred. It had been passed diligently around the classroom and Tim had felt unable to sign it. Anything he could have written would have felt too much like a lie.

“What was he like?” He had asked Dick about Jason once, and Dick had squirmed and said, “You’re nothing like him,” and quickly changed the subject.

But lately, Tim has realised that Dick didn’t really know Jason at all. They had been legally foster brothers for almost three years, but Dick had managed it so their lives were kept carefully separate. Tim thinks about it from time to time, when Dick’s helping him with his rapelling or teaching him capoeira or they are just sitting on the couch, scoffing popcorn and playing videogames. He wonders if Dick’s doing this because he enjoys Tim’s company or because of an obligation to the dead boy for whom he didn’t have room in his life.

It occurs to him sometimes that even though he only knew him through a lens, he might have known Jason better than anyone alive except for Bruce, Alfred and maybe Barbara. That this is true, that this will always be true and that there is no way for him to fix it, sits like a small stone in the pit of his stomach.

He has missed his chance. He will never know Jason better than he does now.

Just like he will never know Mom.

He blows on the glass and traces geometric shapes with his finger. Up and down. He tries his breathing again, tries to put all the raw, broiling emotions back on the high shelf, not gone but... removed.

When every window pane has a hexagon or a tetrahedral drawn on it he instead switches to tracing the loops and eyes of the window seat’s wooden panelling.

...And sees the knot.

It’s an imperfection in the wood just where the wood panels become window frame. Close enough to the window to be well camouflaged, but not so close it will interfere with the sensors. You would have to be sitting precisely where he is sitting even to notice it.

There is something squeezed inside.

After a minute and a couple of wooden splinters beneath his fingernails to get it out. It’s a piece of ordinary copybook paper, rolled up like a cigarette. He can see the faint blue copy lines.

He unrolls it and holds it up to the light. On the side facing him is just the letter “R”, simple and un-stylised. He turns it over. On it, in neat cursive script are five lines of text.

He reads it. He reads it again. He reads it a third time. He rolls it back up into a cigarette.

He is crying again. He’s not sure why. He longs absurdly, pathetically for his mother, as if she had ever been the sort to hold him and rock him to sleep.

Outside, sunshine is starting to line the distant skyscrapers in gold. He presses his head against the window. The glass is cold against his cheek.

The next thing he knows, there comes a gentle knock on the door and he realises he has fallen asleep. “Master Timothy?”

He lurches up, remembering where he is, remembering what a violation it is to be in here, let alone sleep here.

Alfred looks around the edge of the door and seems entirely unsurprised. “Ah, there you are. When you weren’t in your room I began to worry.”

“AlfredImsosorry. Ididntmeantobeinhere. Ididntmeanto –”

Alfred waves this away. “Calm down, lad. It’s alright. I just came to see did you want your breakfast and when I couldn’t find you I was worried.”

“You were?” Tim is confused.

Alfred crosses the room and joins him at the window. Tim expects him to sit, but Alfred is not the sort of person who sits. “Shall we say, it would not be the first time a grieving young man left this house to go do something... impetuous.”

“You mean Jason?” He glances around the room as if the ghost will be sitting cross-legged on the bed or over at the desk.

“Not exclusively, no. Grief is, I’m afraid, this family’s constant companion.”

Tim realises that ‘this family’ includes Tim himself and doesn’t quite know how he feels about this.

“At least,” Alfred’s eyes sparkle a little, “You are not dangling from the chandeliers.”

Tim smiles a watery smile. “I could dangle from some chandeliers. Would it make me feel better?”

Alfred returns his smile. “Perhaps. It often worked wonders on Master Dick.”

“And Jason? What worked for him?”

Alfred would never do anything so gauche as to flinch, but there is a definite loosening of his hold of his sang froid. “The roots of his pain had grown rather deeper. He was alone for a long time before he came to us. I sometimes wonder...” He trails off

“Bruce says he was angry.”

“Often, yes.”

“Bruce says that it made him reckless, that that’s what got him killed.”

Tim realises he was mistaken in his assessment, because this time Alfred does flinch. “Ah,” he says, “Yes.”

“Alfred?”

“Yes?”

“I want to be Robin but... I don’t want to die.” His face burns with shame at saying it and he wants to bury his head in his hands.

But Alfred smiles and says, “I am glad to hear it. I don’t want you to die either.” He hesitates and then says in a kind tone. “Do you want to stop being Robin.”

“No!” It comes out much louder then he meant and the depth of emotion, of alarm that it might be taken away from him, surprises him. He never wanted to be Robin, not truly. He’s an understudy and when the time comes he will step aside. But now, just now, having Robin, having this life makes him braver. When he feels better, when the pain faids, it won’t be hard to give it up. “No thank you, I mean.  I still want to be Robin. I just have worries, sometimes.”

He shoots Alfred a nervous glance. “You won’t tell Bruce?”

“On my honour.”

“Thanks.”

“Perhaps you would like to come help me prepare breakfast in the kitchen?” says Alfred. “I could certainly use the company.”

“And Bruce doesn’t like people in this room?” he guesses aloud.

This time Alfred makes a show of irritation. “Well, you know him. Something of a hoarder. Cards and pennies and dinosaurs. “ And glass cases, neither of them say. “He likes when things  remain as they were.”

Tim’s hand must have tightened on the roll of paper, because the movement attracts Alfred’s attention. “What do you have there?”

“Nothing.” Tim crumples the note he found in the knothole up in his hand. “Just a message someone sent me.”  He looks around the room again. “Alfred, were we anything alike?  Jason and I?”

“What did Master Bruce tell you?”

“He said we were nothing alike.”

Alfred nods. “Then I suppose it must be so.”

**

EARLIER PART HERE