#and then he fought cops for like three hours

[bellesdreamyprofile]

benny & y/n : the hospital (part 5)

Benny breathed in distress as he was pushed away by Cal. Comforting pats on the back to distract him from what he had done - to convince him not to continue on the already dead man’s body. He didn’t know if it was humanly possible to hold on to so much rage. Though that rage was mixed up with guilt and, despite him not knowing it yet, love.

He didn’t say a word to his friends and shrugged Cal’s arms off him. Reached for his pack of cigarettes and immediately lit one up. Smoke left his lips as his eyes caught sight of the mayhem before him. People running away and hopping on their motorcycle, moving away before the cops showed up.

Benny took his time as he let the past hour flash before his eyes. Your eyes, oh your beautiful eyes. The twinkle in them as he revealed his soft side to you. Your laugh at his lame, flirtatious pick up lines. The things he would do for an innocent kiss.

His feet carried him to the spot where Kathy’s truck was parked and looked around once he realized they had all left. He jogged to his motorcycle and hopped on, quickly kickstarting it. He didn’t know the destination, but he assumed that an anxious person like Kathy would immediately take her to the hospital.

Benny didn’t like hospitals. They simply asked too many questions - questions where the answer was too complicated.

He found a spot for his bike and ran to the hospital, ignoring the indecent looks people were giving him. The red and blue beatings you got from that piece of trash haunted him, making him an enemy to anybody who dared stay in his way.

Dirt leaving his boots, nurses throwing daggers at him. Breathless as he reached the reception. “Where’s Y/N Y/L/N ?”, the woman gave him an uninterested look and looked him up and down.

“What makes you think I will pass on sensitive information—“

Benny didn’t think. “I’m her husband.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Your name, sir?”

“Benjamin Cross.”, he said quickly and looked left and right for possible sights of you. “She wanted to keep her last name. Something about her daddy.”

The woman’s eyebrow reached her forehead once more, before she let out a tired sigh. “She’s in room 102.”

Benny tapped his hands on the counter and ran off after muttering a quick thank you.

Soon enough he was standing in front of the room and was met by the girls he had seen you so often with. All sitting on the three lined up chairs by the corridor. The chick he had seen make out with every other guy at the club, the chick who had a crush on him and Kathy.

“Any news?”, he asked out of breath.

Kathy snapped her head towards him and blinked her tears away, standing up.

“Any news?”, she repeated in an incredulous tone. “Go look for yourself you son of a bitch.”, venom tainted her words as she sat down again. Kathy wasn’t angry. She was furious. How could you have given a guy like him a chance to your beautiful heart?

Benny sighed and moved closer to the window separating the two of you. He didn’t really know what heartbreak was and there it lied. A beautiful angel with ugly marks on your face. He felt something twitch inside him, a sensation he wasn’t familiar with. He took a step back and let out a shaky breath.

“I, uh… I’ll be right back.”, unbeknownst to him, Kathy was burning holes on his back.

Tears. Burning, wet tears ran down his cheeks as soon as the bathroom door closed. Oh, you son of a bitch you caused this.

He looked in the mirror and fought the urge to punch it. But no, he couldn’t self sabotage right now - not when you were in the situation you were in. Splashing water on his face, haunting words echoed in his head. Be a man. Be the man she needs.

“I’m sorry, you have to be Miss Y/L/N’s family in order to—“

“Is there a problem here, doctor?”

The doctor looked at Benny and sighed.

“Like I was explaining to these ladies here, you need to be immediate family to—“

“Alright, so you can give the information to me.”

The girls looked at him, wondering what the hell he was on about now.

“Sir, and you would be?”

“I’m her husband.”, at his words, the doctor didn’t argue for much longer and let him in your room.

Felicia stared wide eyed at the scene before her eyes. Her Benny? Married? To you?

Kathy was too busy staring daggers at Benny and his privilege, but Martha recognized Felicia’s gaze in a blink.

“Fel? A word?”, her friend blinked quickly and reluctantly stood up, walking away.

Martha grasped her arm, making her yelp.

“Ow!”

“It was you wasn’t it? Your obsession with Benny Cross needs to stop right now!”, Felicia had never seen her friend look as mad as she had right now.

Felicia rolled her eyes and looked away. “What the hell are you on about?”

“You know very well what I’m on about. That drunk guy on Y/N tonight?”, Martha lowered her tone to a mere whisper. “She’s our friend. Our sister. Sisters before misters.”

“You honestly would think I would send her off—“

“The point is, Fel, that you don’t seem to care!”, she huffed loudly. “Kat, me, even Benny fucking Cross are worried! Why do you not care?”

“Because you’re right! Okay?! You’re right, I’m in love with him a-and it was my love for him that led me to this okay?! Alright?! It wasn’t me—“

Martha’s eyes widened at her state. “Holy shit, so you did do it… What the—“, Felicia took off before she could add another word.

“Hey, honeybee.”, Benny’s fingers grazed your cheek in a loving way. Angel eyes closed and pink lips pressed softly together.

“I’m sorry for the pain I’ve caused you, honey. I’m a coward. I don’t deserve any of your kindness… Or love.”, he murmured, not wanting to wake you up. Benny was afraid of your reaction to his actions - to his words, to his lies. Could you look at him in the same way again? Would he still be lucky and get a soft kiss in between giggles?

But you didn’t react and his monologue went on even when the doctor walked in again, saying he had to leave.

His lips touched your forehead. “I’ll be back for you, baby.”

“There ain’t no rules about me waiting outside my wife’s room, right?”, Benny asked the moment he stepped foot outside. The doctor looked at him and sighed, shaking his head.

“No, sir. Though I will have to ask you fill out some forms first.”

Benny shrugged. “Fine by me.”

The doctor nodded and left. “I’ll be right back.”

“Really? Your wife, Benny?”, Kathy said, making him look over his shoulder.

“If I wasn’t her husband I wouldn’t have been able to get in there.”, he pointed at your room. “Isn’t that better than being kicked out for not being her family?”, Benny said, shrugging and took a seat beside her.

“It’s better than lying.”, she muttered in defeat. “And to a doctor!”

Benny looked at her and held back the urge to smile. “Who said we weren’t married?”, Kathy’s lips parted at his cocky question, but the doctor coming their way made Benny look away.

“Please fill out these forms, sir.”, he handed them to Benny. “And I will need one piece of identification.”, he hastily pulled out his wallet from his back pocket and handed the doctor his drivers license.

“I, uh, I need a pen?”, Benny looked up and the doctor froze for a moment before handing him his own from his front pocket. “Thanks.”

The man left once again and Benny positioned the papers on his thigh, filling out the document. “It’s like an exam. Except I know all the answers.”, he muttered under his breath. Kathy gave him an unimpressed look and rolled her eyes.

The afternoon passed and Kathy was forced to leave.

“You better call me if they got news on Y/N.”, she scolded him, making him tiredly nod.

“Yes ma’am.”, he replied and watched her go. Benny sighed and leaned his forearms on his knees, gaze down on his boots. Hours passed and his position changed to his back against the back of the chair and crossed arms to his chest.

A nurse walked by and tapped his shoulder repeatedly, making him lowly groan.

“Mr Cross? Your wife is awake.”, at her words, Benny’s eyes snapped open.

“Is she okay?”

The nurse smiled kindly and nodded. “She’s okay, sir. If you want, you may visit her.”, he stood up quickly and thanked her for the information.

Standing in front of your door, he sighed as a sudden anxiety overcame him. He knocked on the door and heard a faint come in.

Benny breathed out and opened the door.

“When they told me my husband was waiting for me, I thought I was hallucinating.”, you let out a little chuckle. Benny mimicked your action, relieved your first words to him weren’t hateful.

“It was the only way to stay here.”, he said softly and moved to sit on the chair beside your bed. “You feelin’ okay?”

You nodded and winced. “My head hurts a little, nothing else.”

An imaginary knife twisted in his heart. “I’m sorry to have put you in this position.”

Your brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

Benny gulped, looking down, unable to meet your gaze. “If I hadn’t called you… My friend… We wouldn’t be here talking about this.”

“You can’t be possibly blaming yourself for something you had no power over, Benny.”

“But it was in my power! If I had made it clear that you were mine, you—“

You shook your head at his words and interrupted him. “Putting a little label on me wouldn’t have changed anything. Please don’t think about what could’ve happened.”, your hand reached out to touch his. “It was meant to go like this, Benny.”

He was the one to disagree now. “That guy beat you red and blue. How can you say that.”, you dropped your hand to your stomach again and purposely turned your gaze in the other direction.

“Stop reminding me.”, you muttered.

“But it happened. And goddamn if I hadn’t—“

You slapped his arm at his raised tone and pointed a finger at him. “I dare you to say one more hateful thing about yourself.”

Benny’s eyes met your enraged ones, his lips let out a sigh he had been holding back for minutes. He reluctantly grabbed your hand again, a small smile now on your lips.

“I just… I’m sorry. But I made sure the guy got it worse.”

Your smile faded in a split second. “Oh Benny. What did you do?”

Benny simply shrugged and leaned down to place a kiss on your forehead.

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head about nothing.”, you closed your eyes and smiled a little at his sweet gesture. “It’s all gonna be alright.”

A/N: part 6 anybody?

MASTERLIST PART 6

Taglist: @leonesimp @cwallace02sblog @alexa4040 @notaceventura @wonderland2425

[escapingrealtiylovinginsanity]

Sonny Carisi: Lucky To Have You 

This was inspired by my rewatch of episode 19x8. Amanda was so awful to Sonny. (I’m sorry I’m not a fan of the couple.) This came out of nowhere and wrote itself in two hours. Enjoy xoxo 

Warning: Anti-Amanda and anti-Rollisi content.  

You plopped down on the chair across from Sonny. His gaze jumped up to you startled out of his thoughts. Sonny had become a regular at the cafe you co-owned. He first ventured in three months prior. You knew he would be trouble and not because of the gun and badge attached to his hip. No, it would be a lot worse kind. 

The kind that would leave marks on your already bruised heart.  

You had found him attractive as soon as he had walked in and it hadn’t taken long for his personality to make him even hotter. His sassy attitude and genuine care for others were impossible for you to fault. You had instantly formed a crush. You had flirted shamelessly as he had ordered. He was friendly but didn’t seem interested. Over the next few weeks, you found out why as you developed a semblance of a friendship. He had feelings for another girl. She was a cop that he worked with Amanda. 

Under normal circumstances, you would have been able to let it go. Then he started looking to you for your opinion on the situation. He told you the nitty gritty of their interactions. You came to a quick calculated conclusion-  

Amanda Rollins was totally and completely using him. 

It made it so much worse that Sonny was head over heels for her. He wanted to be all in with her and raise her daughter Jesse as his own. You had delicately tried to tell him your opinion but he had transferred the blame of it not going smoothly to himself. You knew he wasn’t ready to hear it and didn’t want to.  

You had been there before yourself. So, you lent him a listening ear and let yourself be placed in the friend zone. Sonny was too magnetic to ignore. He made you laugh you’d rather have that as friendship than nothing at all.  

He looked so defeated in his seat staring at his sandwich instead of eating it. “You want to talk about it?” His gaze shifts up to you and he shakes his head in frustration.  

“I’m just stupid,” You think he isn’t going to continue but he does. Telling you about the work trip with Amanda to pick up a suspect. The late night at the bar, the bar fight, and how it felt so good to feel like he wasn’t just a cop. He had felt a connection with Amanda as they had fought together. He had walked her back to her hotel room thinking she had felt it too. Only to find the next morning that she had slept with the bartender.  

You wince sympathetically, “I’m so sorry Sonny.” You touch his forearm, trying to ignore the zaps of electricity, to comfort him. “But you are so much more than a cop.” You look back at the staff you have for the day. It is a good bunch. You redirect your gaze back to him with a bright smile. “Do you have plans for today?” He raised his eyebrow tilting his head as he assessed you. 

It had been enough of an agreement. You had led him out to your car urging him into your passenger seat. You let him pick the music and rolled down the windows to enjoy the summer heat. You thought he would ask where you were going but he didn’t. You had just left the city when you finally asked, “Left or right?”  

His blue eyes had shined when he directed you left. You guys drove around randomly for hours and Sonny seemed a lot happier. The two of you were talking and changing the music to songs the other had never heard of. You stopped when you realized that you had been out this way before. “Oh, hey I think I know where we are.” Sonny sat up and looked around. He realized he hadn’t been paying attention to where you guys had been going.  

“Oh yeah?” 

“Yeah, I drove up this way a few months ago.” You glanced at him admitting softly, “It was a bad day.” Sonny didn’t know why that surprised him. Everyone has bad days. But you had always seemed like a constant ray of sunshine. Even when you got frustrated or overwhelmed you always seemed able to laugh it off and keep a smile on your face. “You know we are only a little over three hours from Niagra Falls. I almost went last time when I stopped for lunch a town over and found out where I was.” 

“Why didn’t you?” You hummed softly to yourself, tilting your head back and forth in thought.  

“I don’t know. I’ve never been there before and it- It just didn’t seem like a place to go when you were sad and alone.” 

“Well, you’re not sad or alone right now.” You laughed clicking on your turn signal to head towards the amazing mom and papa diner you had found. 

“Yeah okay,” When Sonny didn’t join in your laughter you looked back at him. “You’re not serious- you want to go to the falls today?” Your excitement couldn’t be contained and leeched into your voice. “We’ve already been driving around for almost four hours and it's almost three. We would be home so late tonight.” Sonny just kept smiling at you with a raised eyebrow. You start bouncing in your seat. “Yes, yes, yes! Okay but first, I have to take you to the place with the best breakfast food you will ever eat.” 

Sonny ended up taking over driving after he reluctantly agreed that the diner was in fact the best breakfast he had ever had. The rest of the trip was just as lively. It felt like the two of you had fallen into a different level of friendship. The falls were amazing and Sonny let you linger for as long as you wanted. He snapped a few pictures on his phone making a comment about you guys coming back with his camera to take more pictures. You had to remind your over-excited heart that the two of you were just friends.  

You stayed until dusk and were ushered out with the park closing. It was late and Sonny was the one who threw out the idea of getting a hotel and starting back in the morning. You agreed, texting your opener that you probably wouldn’t be in until the middle of their shift, and if it got busy to call in the college student who was begging for hours. 

It was a cheap hotel that looked like it hadn’t been remodeled since the 60s but was in a safe area. He walked you to your door and thanked you for the trip. There was a lightness back in his blue eyes that made his smile seem even brighter. He was close to you, his body practically brushing yours. You could smell his cologne, rich and musky. It invaded your senses and you would blame that on losing control because Amanda Rollins was a fool and you would be damned if you were going to be one too.  

You tilt into him, pressing on your toes to steal a kiss. His lips are soft and taste of coffee. You let the sensations take over you as you drop to your feet. When you finally open your eyes you see him staring at you like a puzzle he can’t figure out. You wonder if you should apologize but that simple kiss was one of the best you have ever had.  

His hand cups your cheek as he slowly leans to kiss you again. You smile into the kiss and giggle giddily as he pulls back. His face still shows confusion even with his smile, “Anyone would be lucky to have you, Dominick Carisi.” His blue eyes blaze You turn opening the door. You look back and he is starting to step away- a gentleman as always. 

You had always been more demanding.  

You grab at his forearm and he pauses. You step back into the room letting your hand slide down until your fingers find his interlocking. Then you pull gently encouraging him forward. He follows you dotingly, the door swinging closed behind him.

 

Taglist: 

@polkadotpenguin16 

@pulparindos 

@rebeccapineapple 

[hiwelcometothemonstersancturary]

And that's how you begin to heal (and stop Catnap and Mommy Long Legs from killing each other at the hospital)

You were hurt. Not just emotionally, of course, you were pretty much dead inside for more than ten years at this point, but you were physically what anyone could only describe as "devastated". Your back ached with carrying the grabpack around for the last four days or so, you had broken three bones in your right hand, your arms and legs had almost been torn off at least twice, and, of course, the nasty cut from almost getting impaled.

Frankly, it was a surprise that you didn't just collapse the moment the first ambulance arrived. But if you did, then your newfound kids would have panicked, and the Prototype would have been really, really mad if there was another conflict just when you all thought this nightmare was finally over.

You were gently cradling Poppy in your lap when you saw the ambulance lights in the horizon. You had tried to prepare yourself for this moment since the end of the confrontation with the Prototype, but your heart was still almost breaking out of your body with how fast it was beating. And yet, you kept a calm exterior. Comforted an anxious Dogday, let Bunzo also take shelter in your lap, much to Poppy's dismay, even tried to distract Mommy Long Legs with a joke or two.

The cops arrived first. You had put yourself between them and the group of toys, trembling from head to toe. You didn't exactly know what exactly they were going to do, but Catnap's sudden apparition behind you made some of them shiver.

You calmed down the big feline as you approached the authorities. "These guys were trapped inside the factory", you calmly communicated. "Playtime Co. made them as experiments. They're organic, very hurt, and starving. Please put your guns away unless you want to startle any of those kids".

The man you that approached you had his eyes glued on the group, who, in turn, was staring back. Your thoughts went racing to the idea of Mommy Long Legs deciding to attack them in order to protect you or herself, and you immediately just gave him the bag full of paperwork you had found on your journey. He stared at the first paper, then quickly looked at the others, then simply said:

"What the actual fuck did Playtime got themselves into...?"

"Maybe try to leave a bucket close to you. Some of the things they did won't be good for your stomach".

The cop ignored you. Then the ambulances arrived, and all hell broke lose as your last remains of sanity and calmness fought a war in order to not die from the idea of any of the toys you had just rescued ending up attacking a doctor. You came back to the group, gently begged them to be patient and to please trust the humans dressed up like doctors, and to please remember these ones were there to help, not hurt, and to please stick to each other.

Then a mini huggy tried to bite a nurse. You called out for the little guy, who simply shrugged and approached Kissy Missy, headbonking her and begging to be close to her as the strange humans surrounded you.

An hour and a half later and everyone was at the hospital, trembling and anxious, and you were stuck with Catnap and Mommy Long Legs.

"C'mon, big boy", you called for the feline. "You can do it. Just let the nurse help you!"

Catnap hissed, loud and angrily, at both you and the man with the lotion for burn treatment. Long Legs was sitting close by, eye twitching and a smirk on her face as she watched the two of you.

"Why not?!"

"I can survive. I felt worse", he told you, eyes never leaving the nurse. "Now leave".

"Theo, weren't you the one who told the Prototype it was time for us to live instead of just survive?"

Catnap then looked straight at you, looking very unhappy. The growled again before, finally, offering one of his paws for the nurse.

"Don't try to pull any tricks. I know all of them".

"Like playing dead?", Long Legs chuckled. "Like what you did to me?!"

"And now, look at where we are. I have merely lost part of my ear. You, on the other hand..."

You sighed as Long Legs got up from her chair, hand on her missing arm: "Are you sad because Mommy scared you? Booh, booh, Mommy is so scary, Prototype! Please, help me destroy Mommy!"

"I learned how to hunt. You learned how to throw a tantrum".

"And Mommy never had to call Daddy for help when she was hunting!"

"If you two keep on like this I'll undergo cardiac arrest"

The two toys stopped hissing at each other to instead stare at you with wide eyes. You made a "hmph" sound, pointing at your own bandaged chest in order to further prove the point.

"See? I'm all hurt in there! If you two don't let the nurses and doctors treat you, then I'll be the guy needing treatment".

"No, no, nononono!", Long Legs dramatically gestured a half "X" sign with her single arm, quickly going back to just sitting on her chair instead of being all spread out. "You'll see how much of an excellent patient Mommy is, don't worry! I'll show you a good example!"

"...", said Catnap, growling quietly to himself as the nurse was finally able to treat him. "... I remember you going into disiciplinary confinement more times than I ever did".

"W h a t ?", Long Legs asked.

Catnap stared at the window, tail anxiously twisting. You merely melted in your own chair, staring at the serum next to you as it was slowly trying to make your body feel better again. The nurse kept on with his job, and the TV kept on playing an episode of Pingu.

They even had disciplinary confinement, uh?, you thought, not impressed in the slightest, the memory of having to hold Long Legs in your arms so she would let the doctor examine her passing through your mind.

Catnap and MLL were now staring at the TV, little Pingu entertaining them. Poppy was asleep in another room with Bunzo, Kissy and Huggy, while both Miss Delight and Dogday were undergoing more serious medical procedures for their "conditions". The other toys were being examined, and, if everything went well, would soon return to you. And Prototype was doing his job back at the factory at making sure no one would find the how tos of transforming a person into a toy...

You closed your eyes, feeling true relief for the first time in your life.

Maybe, just maybe, after all of this was said and done, you could all live together as one big family. That was what Poppy suggested, at least, and the other toys seemed happy with the idea. And also maybe, also just maybe...

You could finally feel free from all this guilt

---

Oh, dear, this was harder to write than I thought, but it was a blast! I didn't proofread anything but I'm open for more requests regarding my own take on "Angel saves everyone"! And if you enjoyed this, please check out my commission info - it's all in my pinned post at ! garcavisconde! Thank you! <3

[ficsilike-reblogged]

Invisible Smoke - Five

Summary: There is something going on with Jake’s favorite mechanic. And everything comes to an end. Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin/F!Reader (No Y/N) Word Count: 26.5k (from the bottom of my heart…my bad) ABSOLUTELY NO MINORS ALLOWED A/N: This is the final chapter! Thank you for all the love on this little story of mine, I truly appreciate it. Warnings: Naval and medical inaccuracies, stalking, bodily injury, hospitals, blood, unprotected sex, female-receiving oral, my love of happy endings, pregnancy and children, and overuse of italics.

Jake hated hospitals.

He hated the scent of bleach and the crinkle of the overwashed sheets on the tiny beds. He hated how everything was said in gentle murmurs while machines beeped and hummed in every nook and corner. But he would sit in this stupid, uncomfortable plastic chair for a week straight if it meant that he would be told how you were doing.

Everything since your house had been a blur of blood and flashing lights. He nearly fought the paramedic that shoved him out of the way to get to you, adrenaline keeping him focused on you. There had been blood everywhere. He still had some dried beneath his fingernails. The cops that had shown up had, for a moment, believed Jake had been the one to hurt you until your neighbor had yelled about a man running through his yard, covered in blood.

But they lost him.

The cops lost Luke somewhere in the next neighborhood over and you were taken away in the back of an ambulance before Jake could even get the chance to climb in beside you. They then spent another hour and a half getting Jake’s statement and taking pictures of his bloody clothes before telling him not to leave town. It was a fucking mess. Three more cops, who looked like they were more interested in getting a blonde nurse’s number than protecting you, were stationed around the hallway of the emergency room waiting area.

It had been hours since they had rushed you into surgery. No one would tell him anything about you because he wasn’t listed as your emergency contact. The nurse behind the desk did seem to take a modicum of pity on Jake–with a grim look on her face that had Jake’s stomach sinking–and told him to be patient and that the emergency contact had been left a voicemail and she hoped that they would be arriving soon.

What kind of emergency contact doesn’t pick up the phone?

Jake scrubbed a hand over his eyes, stinging and tired. But he couldn’t leave. Wouldn’t leave. Not until he knew you were okay. The one thing he did to help pass the time was telling the group chat which hospital you’d been taken to—but he kept his phone on silent when almost everyone asked what had happened. They’d probably be able to connect the dots if they were on the way to your house. There was blood smeared out onto the front stoop and into the driveway. It would paint quite a picture. The only person he actually replied to was Rooster, who had texted him outside the group.

It was him, wasn’t it?

All Jake could think to type in return was, Of course it fucking was.

He jumped when someone fell into the seat beside him and it took a stretched moment for Jake to realize that it was Maverick. He hadn’t even seen the other man walk in.

“How’re you holding up?” He asked.

“I, uh, I guess I’m fine.” That was a blatant lie but neither man commented on it. “Why are you here?”

“Rooster is calling her brother and sister, and the Kazanskys, keeping them updated. He’ll be here soon but he wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Cotton was stuffed between Jake’s ears as he stared at the older pilot, mind buzzing. “Rooster is her emergency contact, isn’t he?”

Mav nodded but had his eyes trained on the cop currently flirting with the nurse at the desk.

“What does he know? Does he-”

“He was only told that she was in surgery. As soon as he’s done with her family, he’s coming here, too.” Maverick’s voice was calm and even, the tone Jake knew he used when talking to his students.

Jake wasn’t sure if he should feel insulted or comforted. So he settled on neither. “He doesn’t know anything? Seriously?”

“They couldn’t give him an update every minute. They’re concentrating on keeping her alive.”

Jake smashed his tongue between his teeth so he didn’t say something that would get him brought up in front of Cyclone or Warlock. “Fine,” he said through clenched teeth.

The doors to the waiting room opened again and Rooster jogged in, eyes wide as they swept the lobby before they landed on the two pilots. He was then yanking Jake up and out of his seat and wrapped him in a tight hug that smelt of more bleach and sweat. And Jake froze for a moment and his arms hung limply at his sides before returning the embrace. “She’s gotta be okay, right?” His voice was strained like he was trying to speak while pulling Gs.

Jake only nodded. You had to be okay. Selfishly, he didn’t want to just have a taste of what it was like to have you only for you to be ripped away from him, bleeding out under his hands. He had felt your heartbeat slow and your body go slack. He had seen your eyes roll back, unseeing. The last thing he’d heard from the paramedics when they were shoving you into the back of the ambulance was, “she’s crashing! She’s crashing!”

But Jake still had to hope. He didn’t know what else he could do.

Rooster stepped back after a moment before Maverick suggested checking in at the nurse station to see if he could get an update. He was quick to do so and Jake watched the nurse turn to her computer, heart in his throat. Her eyes darted to Jake for a moment before she whispered something to Rooster. The other man’s hand clenched into a fist on top of the desk before relaxing again as he nodded and turned away.

Before Jake could even open his mouth, Rooster said, “they don’t know how long she’s going to be in surgery. But they’ll tell us as soon as she’s out.”

“That’s it?” Jake bit out. “That’s all they could tell you?”

“Seresin-”

Jake stepped away for a moment, shoving a hand through his hair. Screaming in the middle of the waiting room wouldn’t help. You would still be on a table in a room he couldn’t get in and he’d probably get thrown out of the hospital. That wouldn’t help you.

He just wanted to see you again. Wanted to know you were going to be okay.

“Listen,” Rooster started, “I’m sorry it took me so long to get here. I had to call Georgie and Danny and Georgie was afraid she’d gone into early labor as I was telling her. Then I had to call Sarah just as Bob and Phoenix showed up to clean up Punch’s house. We didn’t want her to come back to a mess after all this is settled.”

If she gets out was left unsaid. Truthfully, Jake wasn’t even sure you would want to go back to your house after all of that. Hedidn’t want you to go back, but that was a different argument.

Maverick stood, slapping his hands on his thighs as he did. “I’m grabbing coffee. I’ll bring you back a cup.” He didn’t let either of the other men argue before he was setting off down the hall where he’d surely come back with three cups of brown sludge.

Rooster sank back into a plastic chair and Jake slowly followed his lead.

The cops hadn’t even turned their heads when Jake had yelled. There was no way he was leaving until he knew you were safe. “Is Georgie okay?” Jake finally asked after a stretched silence.

The barest hint of a smile pushed at Bradshaw’s mouth before quickly fading. “Yeah. She’s okay. Baby is, too, and has a few more weeks before her due date. I had to convince her not to get on a plane and come down here.” He sighed. “Danny said he’d come down only if Punch asked him herself. He knows how she gets about people wanting to take care of her.”

Jake almost laughed. Yeah, he knew that, too.

“But I think he called the chief of police here and is threatening legal action for their shoddy work already.”

“Her entire family operates on a different frequency, huh?”

Bradshaw’s eyes cut to him for a moment. “I think they’re gonna like you.”

That made Jake smile. Just for a split second. Just until he remembered that you still had to pull through in order for him to meet them. He didn’t want to meet them at your funeral. “You think so?”

“Yeah.” It was soft. Softer than anything he’d ever heard come from Rooster’s mouth. It twisted behind Jake’s ribs. “You just gotta, you know, actually get your head out of your ass and ask her to dinner or something.”

Jake huffed, another trace of a smile on his face. He could refute that claim, tell him that you had promised to go get steak and that Jake saw a future with you that he would tear the world apart to see. But he didn’t. That was your secret for now. “What did you tell everyone?”

The man sighed. “The truth: Punch was nearly killed by a crazy ex-boyfriend with a vendetta.”

It was an oversimplified version of the truth, but it was a kindness, Jake supposed, to keep the gory details unspoken. You would tell the Daggers if you wanted. A small bit of shame bit at the back of his mind when he realized how intent he had been about learning your secrets. Did you resent him for it? He hoped not, but he would closely guard your secrets anyway. If he was given the chance, he’d keep all your secrets.

Rooster shook his head, letting his head fall against the wall with a dull thunk. “Georgie knows most of what happened with Luke but apparently Punch made her promise not to tell Danny that the money she gave their parents to pay off his medical bills came from Luke’s father paying her to keep her mouth shut.”

Jake screwed his eyes shut with that revelation. You were always taking care of someone else.

Maverick came back with three cups of coffee that did actually taste like tar but Jake choked it down anyway. Just as he threw his cup into the trash can, a door down the hallway opened. A woman in dark scrubs stepped out. Jake watched her step to the nurse’s station and say something before the nurse pointed at their small group.

All of them stood as she approached and Jake’s blood roared in his ears as she asked which one of them was Bradshaw. He stepped forward and Jake felt a small glimmer of hope start to spark in his chest when she smiled. “She’s a fighter. She coded twice but she came right back each time. Her lung did collapse but the second stab wound missed anything vital. If she makes it through the night, I would consider it an ‘all clear.’ She’s going to need to take it easy for a few weeks after she gets discharged here, but I am almost certain that she’ll make a full recovery.”

The rock that had settled over Jake’s heart disappeared.

You were going to be okay.

You were going to be okay.

He was going to take you to get steak. He was going to take you on that promised date. He was going to make you smile again, make you laugh. You were going to be okay.

“Can we go see her?” Maverick asked.

The doctor nodded. “She’s sedated and we’ve moved her to a private room, but I’m a firm believer in surrounding yourself with people who love you helps with the healing process. Visiting hours are over, so you’ll need to keep it down but I’ll bring you to her.”

The square hospital hallways seemed to stretch on forever and the elevator actually did stall between floors but soon Jake was pushing into your room, ignoring the pair of uniformed cops on either side of your door. There were machines everywhere and an IV drip, too.

He must have paused in the doorway because Rooster clapped him on the shoulder before scooting by him to stand at your side.

“She’d want you to be here.”

Jake looked to see Maverick standing at his side, more than a little uneasy with the glint in the older man’s eye.

“I’m not blind, Seresin. If I hadn’t known before, the way you acted tonight made it glaringly obvious.”

Shit. This could be bad. Maverick could report the ‘relationship’ to the brass and you both could be reprimanded if not worse. “Mav-”

“But I can turn a blind eye when necessary. She means a lot to you, to Rooster. The entire squadron is either cleaning up her house or waiting for word on how she’s doing. This thing, whatever it is, makes you both happy. I’m not going to stand in the way of it.”

The smallest bit of tension slid off Jake’s shoulders with that. Maverick was known for breaking the rules when he thought he was doing the right thing. If he was grouping Jake and Punch into that, he wouldn’t fight him on it. So, he offered the other man a nod, thinking it was better to keep his mouth shut anyway.

“I’ve been told she’ll have a guard at her door for the entirety of her stay here. I’ll have an orderly take down the names of anyone you’re allowing to visit.”

Rooster nodded and Jake imagined he was probably making a list of all the Daggers’ names, the Kazanskys, and a few of the other ADs to have written down.

You looked so fragile. So breakable. Of course, Jake was well aware how finite life could be. He was a fighter pilot–he knew the chances of dying could always be slim to none when it came to real dogfights or combat. But there was something different about you. You weren’t supposed to be in this hospital bed and he wasn’t supposed to be waiting for you to wake up. Not like this, anyway. He had once thought about how it would be to wake up beside you in his bed, with blankets and sheets that smelled like you and your perfume. Not of bleach and metal. You were supposed to be full of life and giving him shit, all with a smile. Not this. Not confined to a hospital bed and unconscious.

Slowly, he followed Maverick into the too-small room and took the chair on your bed’s left side while Rooster and Mav were on your right. The chair at least had a bit of padding and his spine didn’t feel like it was trying to rip itself out of alignment. But he saw how still you were. Your chest was barely rising and falling with each breath. He couldn’t hear your breaths over the beeping machines. There were thick bandages covering both of your palms, held together with sticky medical tape. A fresh wave of anger stormed at the back of Jake’s mind for a moment. He hadn’t even realized your hands had been hurt when he had rushed into your home. There had been too much blood all over you; he had only seen the two stab wounds, pumping blood out of holes in your ruined shirt. What else had Luke done to you? It was a small solace to see that most of the blood had been washed away. There were still splotches of dried blood around your fingers and beneath your chin, staining around the crux of your elbow in a ring, just clean enough for all the machines to patch in, and even more beneath your nails. Just like Jake. You had fought so hard.

“I wanted to get steak with you.”

The simple sentence you had labored to say had echoed in the back of Jake’s mind since the paramedics had ripped you away from him. Had you been scared? Were you trying to say goodbye with those words but wanting to soften the blow?

He wanted to reach out and just feel the warmth of your hand in his again, just to give himself some peace that you really were alive. That you made it out. But the furthest he reached was right beside your unmoving hand. Just out of reach. What if he hurt you? What if he was the reason everything went wrong now? He couldn’t do that to you.

“I’ve called Cyclone,” Maverick said, breaking the tense unquiet. “He has notified the MPs and said we could formally request Naval security and he would personally make sure it gets approved.”

Jake looked to Rooster to see him already looking at him. “I’d prefer that.” The cops haven’t exactly proven themselves to be reliable; the fact that Luke had managed to evade the cops while covered in your blood didn’t exactly give them any credibility in their ability to keep you safe. Jake needed you safe. Knowing someone like Cyclone was willing to throw his weight around to make sure you were as safe as possible was a calming thought, as calm as anything could be in this situation.

“Me too,” Rooster agreed.

The three men were quiet as another doctor came in a few minutes later to look you over and read your chart. His eyes did seem to flit from Bradshaw and Mav to Jake and he wasn’t subtle when he checked the time on his watch. But there was no way they were leaving. He did seem to get the hint–or the cops outside may have helped–because he didn’t say anything about them being in there well past visiting hours and said that you may wake up in a few hours. He then left the room without a look back. It wasn’t a great deal of information, but maybe they’d get more out of the day shift.

After Rooster yawned for the third time, Maverick suggested they all go home for the last few hours before dawn. “I don’t think we’ll be much help here anyway.”

“I’m gonna stay with her,” Jake said immediately. He wasn’t going to leave you now. What if you woke up and you were all alone? Someone needed to be with you until you woke up. And Jake wanted it to be him. It needed to be him.

Rooster nodded, as if expecting that, as he stood and wiped at his tired eyes. “I’ll bring you food when I swing by tomorrow.”

It was a simple enough sentence. But Jake knew what it was. Approval. They trusted him to take care of you. Sure, they trusted him in the skies and enough to help in the infrequent bar fight at the Hard Deck. But this was different. This was you.

Rooster squeezed his shoulder on the way out the door and Maverick nodded at him in goodbye before saying, “you have my number if you need anything. You call, I’ll answer.”

Jake wordlessly nodded and told them to get home safe before turning back to you. You hadn’t moved. God, he wished you would have, selfishly. He just needed to know you were going to be okay. Again, he wanted to reach out and just touch you. His hand inched across the bed and fell short again. His one comfort was feeling the warmth of you start to soak through the bedding and into the starchy sheet beneath Jake’s palm.

But he still couldn’t touch you. Not yet.

Hours ticked by and Jake tried to not yell when he heard the repeated squawks from the cops’ radios outside your door, continuously saying that they hadn’t found Luke. It was like he had vanished. Then, when he tried to watch the tiny television screwed into the wall on the other side of the room, it was tuned into a local news station that was, of course, broadcasting their story about a “violent domestic disturbance” with your house in the background lit up in blue and red lights. “Police say that the suspect is still at large.” He quickly turned the television back off with a grimace and a matching curse. There was no way to make the chair more comfortable and Jake settled for leaning forward to settle his arms across the bed near your legs and drop his head onto his hands. This could work, right? And he hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but a few minutes later, he was snoring.

Jake woke to the sound of poorly hidden whispers scratching at his ears and a crick in his neck. His eyes slowly opened, squinting against the brightness of the room to see Bob and Phoenix bickering not-so-quietly near the door. Both had large bouquets of flowers in their arms, along with a small bag from a diner down the street, and were dressed in their khaki uniforms; they must have stopped by before heading to base. A quick glance at his watch let Jake know that it was still fairly early, probably not even close to proper visiting hours.

“You owe me ten bucks,” Phoenix said. “I knew he wouldn’t leave her.”

“I refuse to acknowledge a bet right now.” But Bob still pulled out his wallet and handed over a crisp bill to his pilot. “Ridiculous.”

“I am clinging to the fact that she’s alive enough for him to fall asleep at her bedside, all right? I need a little joy.”

“And ten dollars, apparently.”

“I’m awake, you know,” Jake groused as he sat straight. Both his neck and back popped noisily and Bob grimaced at the noise but Jake hardly cared as he turned to look at you, hoping that your beautiful eyes would be open and you could smile at him again.

But you were still unmoved on the flat pillow. Nothing had changed.

As if on autopilot, Jake reached out to grab your hand but stopped short, curling his fingers into his palm before his hand fell back into his lap.

“I’m surprised you slept at all,” Bob said as he took the flowers from Phoenix and filled a vase–that he apparently brought with him–with water and dropped both bouquets into it before setting it near the window.

“It was an accident,” Jake said, turning his head left, then right, eliciting another pair of pops. He probably should get up and splash some water on his face at least. Maybe he could ask Rooster or Javy to swing by his house and grab him a change of clothes. He scrubbed the sleep from his eyes as he pulled his phone out of his pocket and saw a text from Maverick telling him that he had been cleared to take the day off. He hadn’t even thought about that. All of his thoughts had been consumed by you. Phoenix handed him the diner bag and said it was from Rooster but he caught the knowing look in her eye. It didn’t matter. None of it mattered right now. He didn’t care about hiding how he felt about you now. To be fair, she had probably suspected something at brunch.

Bob hummed and took the chair Rooster had used last night before scooting closer to the side of the bed. He carefully took one of your hands in his, mindful of your bandaging and the wires and tubes connecting you to the machines, and kissed your fingers. “Hi, Punch,” he whispered.

Jake looked away, feeling a bit like he was intruding. He knew how much this must be hurting Bob, too. To know that the man that he had saved you from once, had tried to kill you again.

Bob had no problem touching you. So, why couldn’t Jake? He just needed to reach out and touch you. Just slip his fingers beneath yours and give himself that small bit of peace. He continued to war with himself when Phoenix leaned over just enough to kiss your forehead. “I have so much to tell you and I have so many questions, but you have to get better first, all right?” She whispered. “First you need to get better.”

Jake stood and gave them a moment, moving into the small ensuite to freshen up as much as he could and scrubbed a bit more blood from under his nails. When he glanced at himself in the mirror, he nearly grimaced. His hair was a mess. He had dark circles beneath his eyes, and his shirt–not the one that was covered in your blood, that one had been handed over to the cops–grabbed from his gym bag in the backseat of his truck, was rumpled and smelt of hospital. He texted Javy and asked for him to bring a change of clothes and his toiletries go-bag if he had the chance after work. It felt like his entire universe had shifted on its axis ever since Phoenix’s text had come through. How many different ways could he tell himself that he nearly lost you? Still, he pushed out of the bathroom to see Phoenix flipping through the charts usually clipped to the end of your bed, and Bob slowly pulling away from you as he stood.

“I don’t think you’re supposed to be going through those, Phoenix.”

But she waved him off, eyes flicking over the papers. “My sister is a neurosurgeon, you know. I helped her study all the time. I can read a chart just fine.” The other pilot looked over your charts in silence before dragging her gaze to him. “Rooster said you were the one who found her before the paramedics arrived.”

It wasn’t a question but Jake still nodded with his stomach curling into knots.

She snapped the chart shut and clipped back onto the edge of your bed. “You helped save her life. Keeping pressure on her wounds likely kept her from bleeding out before they could sew her back up. Your hands helped her then, they won’t hurt her now.”

Bob stepped to his pilot’s side with a sigh, halting anything Jake could have said. “We should probably get back to base.” He then clapped Jake on the shoulder with a small smile. “Let us know if you need anything. Either of you.”

Phoenix essentially did the same and turned toward the door. Just before she disappeared into the hall, she turned back to Jake and set her mouth in a firm line. “You are two of the most stubborn people I’ve met. But don’t be stubborn with this. Okay?” And then she turned and left, leaving Jake alone with you again.

Damn.

They won’t hurt her now.

He had to believe her. He had to. Slowly, Jake sat back down and reached out. His hand hovered over yours for a moment before gently falling over yours, mindful of your bandages. You were warm, so warm. Alive. Tears stung at Jake’s eyes as he curled his fingers around yours. He had nearly lost you. He could still see your scared eyes looking up at him. He could still see the blood on your teeth. He could still see it all. Jake raised your joined hands to his mouth and he brushed a kiss to your fingers. “I’m right here, Punch. All right? I just need you to wake up for me. Show me those beautiful eyes, darlin’.”

But you didn’t open your eyes. You didn’t move. And Jake had to continue to hope that you would soon.

A nurse came in a few moments later and looked you over, carefully poking and prodding before injecting something into one of your IVs. The twitching of your fingers grew slower and slower until it stopped.

“What did you give her?” Jake asked.

The nurse threw him a look over her shoulder before scribbling something in the chart. “Just something for the pain. She’s going to be uncomfortable when she wakes up. That should just take the edge off for now, until we can figure out how she’ll respond to other pain medication.”

Before Jake could even think to ask if they knew when you could wake up, a familiar face was bursting through the doorway and nearly leveling the nurse who was trying to leave. Sarah Kazansky was a flurry of movement as she came in, looking like she’d sprinted out of her house at first light to arrive at the hospital.

“Oh, my sweet girl.” Sarah’s voice shook as she took the chair at your side and set both her hands over yours. “What has he done to you?” The woman sniffled and moved to press the back of her hand to your forehead, the standard mom move to check a kid’s temperature, before setting her hand on your cheek. Sarah was quiet for a moment before she slowly turned to look at Jake with tears in her eyes. “Bradley said you found her.”

Apparently Bradley had told everyone more information than he had let on. “Yes, ma’am.”

She nodded. “I’m glad it was you.” It was a strange thing to say, but Jake didn’t voice that opinion. Sarah knuckled at the corners of her watery eyes. “You know, I always wanted another child—it wouldn’t happen, but then she came barreling into our lives and she just fit, like she’d always meant to be mine. Always meant to be the third kid for me and Tom. She knew exactly how to help me when I needed it, knew what Tom needed without him needing to ask for it. Lord knows he’d never ask for anything.” She huffed, a wet laugh. “She might not have come out of me, but she is mine. She’s my girl. And she looked at you like you hung the moon, you know.” She smiled at him then. “I’ve never seen her look at anyone like that. And then you looked at her like she had done the same.”

Jake didn’t particularly know what he was supposed to do with that observation, but he found himself smiling. Maybe he hadn’t been as good at hiding it as he had once hoped. And you had let your guard down enough in the home of the family you loved to be open enough to show how you felt. “Sometimes, I think she did.”

Sarah’s smile widened a fraction but still didn’t quite reach her eyes. “She deserves that. She’ll make you work for it though.”

“She’s already put me through my paces, I promise,” Jake said with a small smile of his own. “But she’s worth it.”

The older woman looked at him then, quiet and calculating, and Jake once again found himself fighting the urge to stand a little straighter in the presence of a Kazansky woman. She must have found something in his face because she gave a shallow nod before turning back to you. Her thumb swept over your knuckles. “Thank you for saving my girl.”

Both of them were quiet for a stretched moment, not needing to say anything else to each other. Sarah did stand when yet another doctor walked in and grabbed at your chart. “What can you tell me about her prognosis?”

The doctor, a man who looked like he’d been waiting for this exact question, nodded with a small smile as he folded his hands over the chart. “The fact that she needed little more than observation overnight is only good news. From what I understand from the surgeon, she is resilient. Once she wakes up, which should be shortly, she may be in a great deal of pain. It will only be temporary and I can assume that she will make a full recovery if she has the support she will need.”

“She’ll have it,” Jake said. You would have him no matter what you needed.

**

Coming back to yourself felt like swimming through tar, slow and strenuous. Even opening your eyes was a herculean effort and you immediately hated how bright the room was. It felt as if you’d tried to inhale an over-bleached towel and you tried to swallow any spit to help with the dryness but only ended up coughing. That was when your body decided to remind you that you had been stabbed twice. The pain stretched across your body like a whip of heat lashed out from your stomach. You bit back another cough and grimaced as it only made your throat ache. You looked to the side to see if there was a glass of water or something you could sip on and the room tilted for a moment.

“Fuck.” You hurriedly shut your eyes to keep your stomach from lurching. A section of the bed falling near your knees had you slowly opening one eye.

It was Jake.

Your Ken.

And he was sticking a bendy straw into a small cup of water before holding it near your mouth after pushing the button on the side of the bed to get you into a slightly elevated position, sitting instead of fully on your back. “Small sips, okay, Punch? Don’t overdo it.”

The water almost had you wincing as it filled your overly dry mouth but you still took a few more sips, breathing easier when your throat didn’t feel like sandpaper anymore. As you took a final sip, straw falling from your lips, you were still looking at Jake, feeling a little less like a human bobble head, but still a little strange.

He only stepped away from you for a moment to call for a nurse before returning to your side again. He didn’t say much, but his eyes were roving all over you, making you think he was trying to find something you were hiding. In your hazed mind, you wondered what you could possibly be hiding. Did you take his car keys?

The small bit of confusion continued as a nurse swept into the room and started to ask you a few questions you blearily answered and then had to sit still while a doctor looked you over, too, pressing lightly at your side and checking the weird tube and patch jutting out under your arm. By the time they finished and you were nodding along when they said they would be back to check on you again later in the day, you felt a little more settled in your skin.

Jake, who had stood near the window the entire time and hadn’t moved aside from nodding when the doctor or nurse told or asked him something, moved to stand at your side again. “How’re you feeling? What do you need?”

“Are you okay?” you asked in return.

Jake’s smile was shaky and you could tell he was tired–you couldn’t miss the rumpled shirt and matching hair, nor the dark circles beneath his eyes. But he was still beautiful. “I think I’m supposed to be asking you that, Punch.”

“I feel like I’ve been stabbed twice and then put in one of those spinners at the state fair.”

“Well, you look great, all things considered.” His fingers brushed your cheek and you leaned into it as best you could.

“You’re such a liar. I know I look like shit.”

“You’re beautiful, same as always. Just a little banged up.” And he said it so sincerely that you almost had tears in your eyes.

You hated that it took being stabbed twice for you to give yourself permission to really try to be happy again. Jake could make you happy, wanted to make you happy, would make you happy. You knew that even with the residual effects of the anesthesia and everything else falling on your shoulders.

You just had to let him.

“Do you still want to get that steak dinner with me?” You asked, hating how small your voice sounded.

Jake smiled—fucking smiled—and moved to smooth a hand over your forehead before brushing a kiss to your temple. “Let’s get you cleared for solid foods first, okay?”

“Is that a yes?”

“It’s a hell yes. But let’s make sure you can move without tearing a stitch.”

You smiled, ignoring how you felt one of your lips start to crack. “I’ll even let you pick me up.”

Jake’s sea glass eyes sparkled in the shitty fluorescent lights. He’d always been so pretty. “And you’ll let me pay? What about bringing you flowers, can that be negotiated?”

Just for a moment, you paused as thoughts raced through your mind. This was different. He wasn’t Luke and you weren’t scared of him. “Only if I get to take you out to ice cream afterward.”

“Oh, you’re already thinking you’ll make it to dessert?” He teased with a smirk you could feel pressing into your skin as he brushed another kiss against your forehead. “Presumptuous.”

“I have it on good authority that you may like me, even when I look like death.” You hoped your smile was convincing as he stepped back, warm hand still holding the side of your throat.

His thumb smoothed a gentle path across your pulse as his green eyes locked with yours. “You look like you beat death back with a stick.” He paused and you knew he was trying to choose his words carefully. “It’s a good look, you know. But I’d appreciate it if I never have to see you like this again.” His words held none of his usual bravado or confidence and your heart dropped when you noticed just how sad he looked. And not just sad. Scared.

You blindly reached up to grasp at his hand, curling your fingers over his thumb in an attempt to prove to him that you were okay–you could deal with the slight ache in your hands later. You just needed him to be okay, too. “It was a baseball bat, but I can promise you I have zero intention of trying to do it again.”

“Good.” He pulled in a slow breath and you felt him twist his hand in our grip so he could pull your joined hands up and he pressed a kiss to your fingers before holding your hand gently between both of his on the edge of your bed. It was like he couldn’t stop touching you and you reveled in it. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”

The simple sentence had your entire chest flooding with warmth. Feelings you had tried to ignore were pushing at the tip of your tongue but you couldn’t form the words. Not yet. Not even with Bradley’s words ringing like a bell at the back of your mind. “I’ll try to make sure you never have to find out.”

The look in Jake’s eyes had the warmth in your chest growing hotter. It was too knowing, too wanting, too…

His mouth opened and then shut again and Jake shook his head. He hooked a foot around the leg of the chair behind him and lowered himself into it as he kept a hold of your hand. “I have to tell you something.”

“What is it?” You asked, feeling your face scrunch in confusion.

Jake licked at his lips and took a deep breath in. “They still haven’t found him.”

“What?” The single word cracked on your tongue as familiar claws of dread started to close around your heart. “What do you mean?”

“The cops lost him somewhere behind your neighbor’s house but-”

“No, no, no, no. Don’t tell me that.” One of the machines at your side started to beep and flash. This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening. “Jake. Don’t tell me that. They-they have to ca-catch him! How-”

Jake moved to smooth his hands up your arms until he was gently grasping the back of your neck and he pushed his forehead against yours. “They’re out there, right now, looking for him. They’re not going to stop until they catch him. And he is not evergoing to touch you again. I won’t let that happen.”

“J-Jake.” His name broke in your throat and you hated that the tears you knew were forming in your eyes only brought you more pain and embarrassment. This had to be a nightmare. Had to be. There was no way you nearly died and Luke was still out there. “He…he…”

“Luke is not going to touch you ever again. I swear it.”

Tears blurred your vision despite the strength shading Jake’s words. “You don’t know that.”

“I do because I’m going to make sure he never touches you again. I don’t care if I have to put him in the ground, he’s not putting his hands on you again.”

The machines were still whirring, sounding your distress out into the room and letting it echo like a wraith in the sterile air. But Jake did not pull away, did not tell you that you needed to calm down or negate anything that you were feeling, but he held you through it until your breathing evened out again and you slumped further into your flat pillow but did not pull away from Jake. “I can’t do it again,” you whispered.

“You won’t have to.”

You blinked away the tears in your eyes and pushed Jake back just enough to look at him. The fear you saw in his face was gone now, replaced by a steely determination you only usually saw before climbing up into the cockpit of his jet. He was going to do anything for you–the thought was equal parts horrifying and comforting. “I don’t want you to get hurt for me either.”

“We are going to be fine. Both of us. And we’re going to go get that steak.” He reached up with his other hand to carefully cup your cheek and you remembered that he held you like this when he’d kissed you in your living room. It all seemed like ages ago now. And you wanted his words to be true, to know that you'd both be okay when this was finally finished. But something whispered at the back of your mind that you and Jake weren’t safe. Not yet. Not when Luke was still out there.

A knock at the door had you separating and looking to see a grim looking MP walking into the room. “There’s a detective here to speak with you,” he said, looking at you. “I can send him away if you’re not available.”

Jake looked at you, waiting for your answer. “Let him in. I should probably get this over with.”

The MP nodded and stepped out again before escorting a man in an ill-fitting suit into your room. “I’m Detective White, I just need to ask you a few questions.” He held out his hand but quickly retracted it when you reached out with your own bandaged one and then hurried to grab a small pad of paper from inside his jacket and tapped a pen on the top of it with a terse smile. “It won’t take long.”

Instead, Jake squeezed your hand with a small smile. “I’ll just be right outside.”

Would it be ridiculous for you to want him to stay? To say that you felt safer with him in the room? You could feel the detective’s eyes on you and you hated it. You hated how stupid you felt in that moment and how insecure and ridiculous. “Can he stay?”

“Miss-”

Jake immediately said your rank and last name, making sure to put enough emphasis on it that he knew that was the correct way to address you. It made you smile for a moment, knowing he meant it as a way to protect you. “I’d like him to stay.”

The detective’s eyes darted to Jake for a moment before he squeakily cleared his throat. Your name and rank soon followed and he tapped his pen on his pad of paper again. “That isn't standard procedure.”

“Look, I have two holes in me that shouldn’t be there. Jake held me together and kept me alive until I could get to the professionals. And I’d still like him to stay.”

Jake hid a smirk behind his hand before he sank into the chair by your bed.

“Okay, well,” the detective started as a ruddy blush blotched across his cheeks, “we can work with that.”

The interview took hours. You only stopped once to sip on some water and poke at the bland hospital food that was delivered and that was mostly at the behest of the bedraggled nurse who came in to check on you. And Jake did not move from his post at your side. When you had paused to catch your breath, embarrassed, angry tears biting at the back of your eyes, Jake always managed to keep you steady without even needing to say more than, “it’s okay, Punch, you got this.”

Detective White did actually shake your hand on his way out and you tried to ignore how his grip made you innately aware of the stitches in your palm. “We’ll get him, I swear it.”

You hoped he had more confidence in his police work than what you heard in his voice. He sounded unsure. When the detective left, you turned to Jake to see him frowning, yet again. “You feel as good as I do about that, huh?”

He sighed and shook his head. “They haven’t exactly proved to be reliable. Or competent.”

You laughed—it was worth the sharp ache in your stomach. You had to laugh otherwise you may cry again. “Well, I guess we will just have to wait and see.” What else could you do?

Another knock at the door pulled your attention and you were thankful for the distraction, even more so when you realized it was Rueben and Mickey now sticking their heads into the room. You quickly waved them in and let them shower you with movies and books they had brought to help you pass the time and you laughed when Mickey said you now had no excuse to not start watching Star Trek: Deep Space Nine. The pilot and WSO were always kind and funny, but you could tell they had questions and you set the Blu-ray set aside before taking a deep breath. “You can ask. ‘s all right.”

You had always thought the bond between pilot and WSO was intrinsic and nearly magical, and you got to watch it in action when Reuben looked to Mickey and they were quiet for a moment before turning back to you. “Are you okay?” Reuben asked gently.

Your shoulders slumped. They were always so nice to you. “I’ve been told that I’ll be okay eventually. I just need to take it easy for a while.”

They asked if you needed anything in particular and didn’t take your ‘no’ for an answer and promised to bring you every unhealthy food they could think of once you were cleared for “real people food,” as they called it. Mickey’s watch beeped a few minutes later and he sighed. “Time’s up for us, Mav’s only given us an hour each.”

“Apparently he thinks that Cyclone would notice if we all just didn’t show up today.”

You had to smile at that. Captain Mitchell creating a timetable so all the Daggers could come visit without higher brass permission to skirt duty was probably the most on-brand thing you could think of him doing. It was a kindness, truly. Perhaps you should have confided in him—Tom had trusted him, Bradley, too. But maybe trusting people implicitly would take more time.

You said your goodbyes to Mickey and Rueben and Jake somehow got a blu-ray player delivered to your room and set it up quickly after belatedly pointing out the flowers Bob and Natasha had brought you—they were your favorites. You’d have to text them a thank you later.

“Look at you go, Ken. So handy. Next I’ll have you painting walls and tightening leaky faucets.”

A lazy wink was thrown over his shoulder in your direction. “Whatever you need, Punch. I’m pretty handy.”

You laughed and tried to ignore the stinging bite that came with it but you still set your hand over your stomach as if that would help disguise what you were feeling from his gaze. It didn’t work at all and Jake abandoned his task to hurry to your side. “I’m fine,” you said, pushing a smile to your face and hoped that would be enough for him to ignore how the heart rate monitor beeped erratically for a moment as you tried to breathe through the new wave of pain.

Jake shook his head. “You don’t have to lie to me. I’m here to help you.”

You sighed. That would be another thing you would have to work through. “Sorry. I just…” Your words trailed off as Jake once again took your hand in his. He might be fond of touching you, but you knew you were fond of him touching you. He was always so gentle with you. “I just don’t want to cause a fuss.” Which you knew was stupid because you were in the hospital after being nearly murdered.

“You are worth the fuss.”

Was it pathetic to think of that as romantic? Maybe. But your heart still leapt as he looked at you but a familiar, self-satisfied smirk started to push at his mouth when your heart rate monitor betrayed you and let out a happy little beep-be-beep and there was no way you could talk your way out of it.

His smirk faded the slightest bit before he said, “I mean it. You’re worth the fuss. You’re worth a lot more than what you’ve been given.”

The fact that Jake wanted to be the one to prove it to you was even better. You just had to let him, you reminded yourself.

“Am I interrupting something?”

You and Jake retreated from each other (you mostly just pushed further into the pillow at your back) as Callie and Neil came in with balloons and another bouquet of flowers. They told you how the Daggers and other ADs were keeping it quiet about why you were currently in the hospital, but the Top Gun hopefuls did send along their well wishes that you supposed they mostly meant (except Royal, who you knew didn’t have a sincere bone in his body).

When they left, you got exactly seven minutes and twelve seconds into the first episode of Deep Space Nine before Billy, Logan, and Brigham came in with a teddy bear wearing a miniature version of their flight suits and your last name stitched over the heart. They also told you that there has been increased security stationed at every entrance to the base with extra protocols in place for entry.

Good. Luke probably wasn’t quite dumb enough to try anything on base, but knowing your friends would be safe on base was a comfort.

Javy was the next to visit, a small duffle bag in hand for Jake and wearing a suspiciously wiggly coat. He unzipped it with a wink and a familiar dog was carefully placed on your bed. “Sweet Pea!” You happily squealed at the sight of the tenacious Pekingese. She was quick to clamor up your legs to offer you a lick at your chin in greeting before immediately making herself comfortable in your lap. “You’re breaking so many rules right now,” you said, more traitorous tears stinging your eyes as you sank your fingers into Sweet Pea’s soft fur. You had watched Sweet Pea for Javy during his deployment a few months ago and had fallen head over heels for the dog immediately, even going so far to ask Javy for weekly updates, which he readily gave.

Javy waved it away and gave you a quick kiss on the temple. “You’re worth it, Punch. And she was missing you anyway.”

Jake nudged him with a halfhearted scowl but you hardly cared when your fingers sank into the dog’s fur again. You didn’t even mind when Sweat Pea started to gnaw on the teddy bear, she was your favorite and the bear was probably machine washable anyway.

Javy eventually left after a close call with a doctor who came in to administer another dose of pain medication and to check on your stitches. You and Jake eventually settled in enough to watch a few episodes after he changed into the fresh clothes Javy had brought him.

(“What is this show even about?”

“I have no idea.”)

After another gelatinous meal was presented to you and Jake only half heartedly tried to get you to eat it, you were handed a new set of pills by your doctor who told you that they would help stave off infection and probably make you a little sleepy, too.

“I do recommend you take them with food,” the doctor said after spying your uneaten lunch pushed off to the side.

Well, that certainly wasn’t going to happen but you said you would eat it before taking the pills just so he would leave the room.

“You’re not actually going to eat that, right?” Jake said in a low and disgusted voice as soon as he was sure the doctor was out of earshot.

“Absolutely not.”

“Good. I’ll grab you a smoothie or something from the cafeteria downstairs. Do not take that without eating.” And then he was dashing away, startling one of the MPs at your door by the sound of it, too. When he returned, your favorite smoothie in hand, you had a hard time keeping the smile off your face even as the large pills stuck briefly in your throat. No one had really taken care of you like this. Not since you were a child, anyway. Red tape had kept you alone after Luke’s first two attempts on your life and you had to heal alone and in silence. This was new. Different. And for the umpteenth time, you realized that Jake wanted to do this for you. All of it.

You really needed to have a talk with him. A real talk. Unfortunately, it seemed the doctor’s warning that the medication would make you sleepy was an understatement. As soon as you finished your smoothie, you were already fighting to keep your eyes open. Jake took your empty cup from you and threw it away and you saw him starting to settle into his chair again, a wince already scrunching his features.

“You need to go home and get some sleep.”

Jake’s eyes cut to you with a frown. “I slept just fine here last night. And it is barely past lunch anyway.”

You sighed but the fondness clouding your lungs had it sounding a little forced and your limbs were sagging with the need for sleep. “Stubborn man. You have work tomorrow. I won’t have you falling asleep at the controls because of me.”

“I could just not go in,” he muttered like a child.

“Ken!” You chided, fighting a smile, lips twitching at the corners. “I’m not worth going AWOL.”

His face scrunched, as if he was insulted. “I already told you this: you’re worth a lot.”

God. He was infuriating and adorable. And usually only used one of those words when describing him. “I need you to go to work, all right? After getting a goodnight’s rest in a bed.” You watched him open his mouth and quickly added, “and no, I can’t just scoot over to make room for you in this one.”

Jake was quiet again, mulling over his options, before standing. “I can be back in time for dinner, or whatever slop they give you in a few hours, and-”

You raised a lethargic hand toward him and sighed when he laced your fingers together, letting his sentence go unfinished. “I need you rested, all right? I need you flying; that’s where I know you’re safe. Happy.” You yawned, the ache you’d been fighting settled into your bones, low but manageable. Damn, those pills were something else. And so were Jake’s eyes.

“I can be happy here, too.”

“Go home, sweet man. Visit tomorrow. Take a shower. Sleep.” You definitely were about to fall asleep. Everything felt so warm and loose, almost like you had one too many drinks to be tipsy.

“You saying I smell?” He asked with a laugh, but he still leaned down to press another kiss to your forehead.

“Yes—like blood and hospital. But you’re still so pretty. Pretty Ken.”

He chuckled and you felt him stand rather than saw him as your eyes finally closed. “Yeah, my pretty darlin’. You win this round.” With another careful kiss to your temple and his thumb pressing at the edge of your chin, he was gone and you were out like a light.

The next afternoon, you woke up to the sun shining in through the window and Bradley setting a bag onto the chair beside your bed. When he noticed you were awake, a slow smile started to push across his mouth. “Hey, sleeping beauty.”

“Hey,” you replied, the single syllable slow and syrupy with sleep.

He moved a little closer and you could see the circles beneath his eyes and his caramel waves were in a bit of a mess. But his service khakis were still neatly pressed—that was good. “You were asleep when I came in yesterday. Seresin said they gave you some pretty heavy duty stuff. How’re you feeling?”

That pain medication must’ve truly been something else because you mostly just felt uncomfortable rather than anything else. “I’m okay. Might be hungry though.”

Bradley’s smile widened a fraction and he opened the bag and pulled out a sandwich from the deli just off base that you frequented, usually with Bradley, and your cellphone which had almost 200 notifications. “I asked, like, four nurses if you were cleared for real people food and they said as long as you don’t overdo it, you should be fine.”

You weren’t entirely sure how you could overdo eating a sandwich, but you weren’t about to ask in fear of them taking the sandwich away and replacing it with the slop you managed to evade yesterday. It felt like heaven in your hands when Bradley (carefully) set it in your grasp. “Yeah sure,” you said, suddenly much more awake than you had been moments before.

But he also held out a bottle of water and shook it. “Water first. Sandwich later.”

“Then you should have led with the water,” you grumbled but you still drank it with careful sips after he glared at you after you sputtered over your first overzealous mouthful. He let out an exaggerated sigh when you pouted as he put your medication on the little table beside your bed and said you needed to take those, too. He really did bait and switch with the sandwich. A true big brother move that you begrudgingly accepted with a smile you tried to hide behind your water bottle.

(The sandwich in question was delicious and you didn’t even care that Bradley told you to slow down twice—you should have listened because you felt nauseous for a solid hour after polishing it off. Worth it.)

Bradley sat and watched an episode of Deep Space Nine with you before he told you that Sarah was planning on stopping by again today and that Bob and Natasha would probably try to swing by after being dismissed for the day, too. “Your sister is a very avid texter, by the way.” He pulled out his phone and showed you the fifteen texts he’d received from Georgie in the last two hours. They were all about you, obviously, and your stay in the hospital. Toward the end of her barrage of texts was a quick, also, Danny is wondering who this ‘hangman’ is. Might want to give both of them a heads up.

You almost laughed at that. After noticing your parents’ complete detachment from you, Danny had taken up the self-imposed role of ‘protective brother’ and had tried his best (either from a hospital bed or across state lines or both). It had always made you smile because he was more likely to throw a textbook at someone and then run away than to actually throw a punch. He was a good man. Gentle. A good brother to you. You knew he and Georgie would like Jake, even if they pretended not to for a solid five minutes.

“I’ll handle her. Promise. How was everyone yesterday and this morning?”

“Hangman was a little distracted.”

“Was he okay? Did he-”

“He’s fine,” Bradley said, fighting a smile. “But he did pull some stupid stunt when Royal was about to get tone on him.”

“Oh? It must have been something else if you’re calling it stupid,” you teased, earning a halfhearted glare in return. But this was good. Almost normal. Like you weren’t in a hospital and Bradley wasn’t taking a day of leave to stay at your side. Then you remembered… “Oh, Bradley, your date with Natasha! I ruined it! You were supposed to go to dinner, weren’t you? Natasha had a plan-”

Bradley’s hand settling over your arm quickly halted the rest of your rambling. “Please chill out.”

“Okay, but, what if I don’t?”

“They’ll probably have to sedate you,” he said, trying to keep a straight face and failing. “It is fine. Really. We rescheduled.”

“Easy as that?” You asked. Guilt still twisted your stomach. They had been in love with each other for years and had one date and then you had to get stabbed and ruin their second.

But Bradley nodded. “Easy as that. I took my time to get off my perch, I don’t mind waiting a little longer for a second date. We both would have just been worried about you anyway.”

You grimaced, guilt still gnawing at your bones. “I’m sorry anyway.”

“You did not purposely get stabbed so we couldn’t get a second date,” Bradley said, voice more serious than it had been just a moment ago. “Please don’t beat yourself up about it. We have time. We made time.”

You moved to set your other hand over his with a sigh. “If you say so.” God, you hoped it was true.

It would be a long recovery, you knew that. But it seemed a little easier this time, even with the extra damage, because you had people that cared about you. You weren’t lonely and twiddling your thumbs alone in the hospital room, waiting to be released and being told to keep your mouth shut or to report to the brass as soon as you were discharged. This was different.

It was different when the Daggers still took turns visiting you and your fellow ADs did, too. Sarah stopped by as well, and made you video chat with Junior and Lily who both worried over you until you promised that you would be fine. They both offered to visit, or in Lily’s case she offered to smuggle you out of the hospital, but you declined and told them to both just focus on wedding planning or classes. “I’ll be fine!” You even winked for good measure.

Yeah. This time was different. Recovery wasn’t exactly a walk in the park and the tube coming out of your side was always annoying and bordering on itchy, but you got through it because you had people who cared about you. To your delight and dismay, Jake was the most frequent visitor to your stuffy hospital room. He brought food and books and seemed to be watching Deep Space Nine on his own because he was never lost when he sat down to watch an episode or two with you.

It was good and gentle and god you wished you could kiss him again. But it seemed he was trying to give your poor heart a break and rile you up at the same time. You had never been treated so…delicately before. Like you were something, someone precious. But god you wanted to kiss him. Even more so when he was the one to wheel you out of the hospital, complete with boyish car noises when he would speed around a corner. You weren’t even a little surprised when he drove you to the temporary housing on base instead of your house, only relieved. Bob and Natasha had been the one to tell you it was probably a good idea for you to not stay at your house for the time being and had set up your stay on base. You didn’t need a ton of convincing; you weren’t sure if you’d ever be able to step foot into your little bungalow again without seeing Luke hiding in the shadows or your blood staining the floors.

The temporary housing was little more than a hotel room with a kitchenette, but you weren’t about to complain. Not when all of the Daggers and your fellow ADs were waiting inside with balloons and your favorite junk food to welcome you ‘home.’ Natasha and Bradley had brought all of your clothes and a few of your pictures, too, to help make it seem a little more like home. Over a glass of a virgin Bee’s Knees, whipped up by Penny who asked you if you were taking your medicine with a motherly look, you caught Jake’s eye across the small living room as he spoke with Callie. He smiled and raised his beer in your direction with a wink.

Oh, what an asshole. It should not be allowed for him to look like that and not want to kiss him senseless. Or have him kiss you senseless. Either way, someone should be getting kissed senseless. But he had been almost resolute in not kissing you. A small voice at the back of your mind whispered that maybe all of this, the stalking, the blood, the stress, the hospital stay, had all been too much for him. That you had been too much for him.

But he had been sweet. He kissed your cheeks, your temples, the tip of your nose. He held your hand and made you smile and laugh when you needed it most. He wanted to be near you. Didn’t he? You hoped so. He never seemed to care when you called in the middle of the night with another nightmare filled with Luke and hidden knives, making the drive across base to sit with you in the low light of your temporary living room, sipping on hot chocolate and watching Golden Girls reruns in silence until you fell asleep again. “If you call, I’ll come,” he had said. And he did. Every time. Didn’t make it any less confusing though.

It was entirely unsurprising to be put onto desk duty when you were finally able to report back to base two days later. Admiral Bates was kind and popped his head into your office every other hour to make sure you were comfortable. “You can leave at any time, if needed. Please take it easy.” Admiral Simpson also seemed to be doing the most to not even give you paperwork to do. They were being kind but you were so bored. It didn’t feel like you worked if you didn’t have oil soaked into your skin by lunch. The other ADs kept you up to date on what each of the jets needed every day so you could jump right back in when you were cleared for it.

You actually volunteered to take on the extra paperwork from the other ADs so you could still feel like you were contributing a few days into your new duties. It sometimes had you staying later than everyone else but you slowly started to enjoy the quiet of your office when almost everyone had gone home, especially on Fridays before the start of the weekend.

Almost everyone.

A knock at your door had you looking up to see Jake leaning against the frame and you hated how your heart leapt at the sight of him…and how the sleeve of his service khakis strained against the bulk of his arm. “Hey, darlin’.”

“Hey stranger,” you replied, setting your pen down. With the outgoing of the Top Gun graduates and the incoming of a new class, Jake had been busy alongside most of the Daggers. There were rumblings of a deployment, too, so you tried not to take his absence personally. If you had been out in the hangar or on the flight line, you would have seen more of him. Also, a lot of your free time was filled with check ups with your doctor and your new therapist. Both seemed to be hopeful for you. Your writing was going well, too, if you did say so yourself. Both Natasha and Bradley were still buzzing in that new relationship glow and you were so happy for them to finally be together—you even made sure to have them do the necessary paperwork as soon as possible so nothing would take them off guard. Detective White and the rest of the cops on your case were apparently following leads about Luke’s whereabouts but didn’t have much more to say other than, “when we know something, we will let you know.” You tried not to dwell on it, focusing on what made you happy. And you hardly left base anyway.

“I’ve got a question for you.” He walked into your office with a smirk playing on his mouth and an arm tucked behind his back.

“I’ve got an answer.”

When he reached the edge of your desk, he pulled an almost comically large bouquet of flowers out from behind his back. It was a beautiful mix of sunflowers, peonies, and tulips and you took them carefully as you stood, your heart in your throat. “These are for you.”

“They’re gorgeous, but that is not a question, you know. Questions are meant to gain an answer, or elicit information from another party-”

Jake groaned, rolling his eyes. “Busting my balls after I give you flowers? I should have expected that.”

You laughed and brushed your fingers against the buttery petals, delighting in the soft aroma of the bouquet. “Probably.”

“But my question was,” he started, pausing either for dramatic effect or just to rile you up. “Would you like to go to dinner with me?”

The smile that split your face almost hurt and you attempted to hide it behind the flowers for a moment before Jake hooked a finger in the wrapping and slowly pulled it down with a smile of his own. “You sure did take your time asking.”

Jake’s smile grew. “Technically, you asked back at the hospital, but since you never followed up on it, I figured I could be the bigger person and ask you.”

Your mouth opened then closed again as an embarrassed heat started to inch its way up your throat. “That…is not fair. You technically asked back at my house.”

“And I’m asking again.”

God, he was something else and you couldn’t help but let the growing smile split your face as you nodded. “Then yes, I am saying yes again.” What else could you possibly say?

“Perfect. Phoenix has a dress and shoes waiting for you in our locker room and I will meet you back out here in thirty minutes, okay?”

“Oh, you thought of everything, huh?” You asked with a shake of your head.

“I had some time. But you don’t—our reservation only has a five minute window.”

You grumbled good-naturedly to try to keep the butterflies you felt rioting in your stomach at bay. “Fine. I’ll be back.” And if your steps to the locker room were a little hurried, he thankfully didn’t mention it. The dress Natasha picked out for you was perfect, midi length with a slit up the thigh with a floral print—she must have found it at the back of your closet. The shoes were sensible but cute, found in a box you had kept at the back of your closet, too. Damn, she knew you so well. There was a sticky note on the dress’ hanger: Have fun! But not too much! Your makeup bag was on the shelf above and you hurriedly touched everything up before meeting Jake out in the hallway with your heart thrumming a happy beat behind your ribs. He had changed, too, into a smartly tailored pair of black trousers and a button up shirt of the same shade tucked in. It was almost unfair how beautiful he was.

Another smile broke across his face as he looked you over and you felt like one of your heroines when he reached out for you. “You look beautiful.”

As promised, he drove you to the ritzy restaurant and you delighted in the weight of his hand on your thigh the entire time as your flowers were safely kept in a vase in the backseat. It wasn’t until you pulled into the filled parking lot that you realized that you hadn’t looked out the window once in search of a black charger.

You felt safe.

He held the door open for you and tucked your chair into the table. It really was like a dream, even when the waitress flirted with Jake. Why? Because he simply reached across the table to curl his hand over yours as you fiddled with your silverware roll.

Gentle. He was being gentle and choosing you.

The conversation was quiet and easy as you ordered and you tried not to laugh when your original waitress was nowhere to be found.

“There’s this Italian place a little up the coast. We should try that next.”

While you enjoyed this peaceful bubble, you couldn’t resist poking at him like you always did. You cocked an eyebrow as you cut into your perfectly done steak. It almost melted in your mouth as you saw Jake glance at you as he cut into his own. “Oh, I was presumptuous by thinking we should get ice cream after this but you’re already planning the next date?”

His fork froze just in front of his mouth and you watched his eyes go wide for a moment. “I…”

“Relax. I’m always game for pasta.”

Jake’s answering smile split his face and couldn’t hide the tinge of pink on his cheeks. “Good. That’s good.”

As promised (after bickering over who got to pay for dinner), you had Jake pull over into the parking lot of a small ice cream shop on the way back to base and you each ordered their version of snickers ice cream. You both happily ate it as it tried to melt down to your fingers when you watched the moon’s reflection over the ocean after Jake found an overlook a few minutes down the road. As you licked the remnants of the treat from your lips, Jake hopped out of the truck and you watched him jog over to your side and pull open the door. He reached over you for a moment, letting his expensive cologne flood your senses again, and turned up the radio. Some old country song—yes, you would make fun of him for this later—filled the truck but you still put your hand in Jake’s when he held out a hand for you to take.

“Dance with me?”

The singer crooned about love and the moon and you laughed as Jake spun you under his arm. This could have been a scene from one of your books, you could scurry home after this, write it all down, and sell a million copies of your next book just because of this scene. But you knew you wanted to keep this just for yourself. This was just for you and Jake. You’d never feel like this before; happy, desired, fulfilled but hopeful for more. Hopeful for more with Jake.

Just for a few beats of the song, you wished you hadn’t waited so long. Hadn’t tried so hard to keep him at arm’s length. Hadn’t let Luke win for so long.

One song turned into two, turned into three and you only separated because a car drove by and honked obnoxiously. You laughed and pushed your face into Jake’s chest for a moment, listening to the rumble of his own chuckle. When your giggles subsided, you tilted your head to smile at him, probably looking like a loon but you hardly cared when he brushed his knuckles against your cheek.

He leaned in slowly, giving you enough time to pull away if you wanted, but you didn’t move. His lips pressed against yours gently before you surged forward, making it abundantly clear that you were not going anywhere. His warm hands held you firm as they slid up your arms to frame your face. There was no resistance when he licked at the seam of your lips, and you didn’t even care about the happy sigh you let out, hands scrunching into his soft shirt. He tasted like ice cream and that damned minted toothpick and you couldn’t get enough, pressing closer closer closer to let him keep kissing you in any way he wanted.

It wasn’t until your lungs protested that you broke away, chest heaving with the need for air. Jake stole another quick kiss anyway, letting you feel his smile against your mouth. “Let me get you home, darlin’.”

You nodded with a smile you hoped wasn’t too wide and let him buckle you in after he opened the truck door for you again. The smile, however, couldn’t be contained when his hand once again found a home on your thigh. When he pulled into the small parking lot in front of the stretch of temporary housing buildings, you let out a laugh when Jake all but bolted out of his seat to run around to your side of the truck and open your door, your flowers in hand. You slipped your hand into the crook of his offered arm and let him walk you toward your door.

“I had a great time tonight,” you murmured as you looked at him out of the corner of your eye. The dim light from the nearest streetlight cast him in a buttery light and almost made him look like some sort of old Hollywood leading man—you’d never tell him that. His ego was big enough.

“I did, too.” The warmth in his tone matched the soft look he sent you as you stepped up to your door.

You could have asked about the Italian restaurant he had mentioned earlier or bargained with him that you get to pay for dinner next time and he could pay for dessert as a reversal of what happened tonight, but instead, you listened to the butterflies in your stomach and asked, “would you like to come inside?”

Jake paused for a moment before nodding, almost hesitant.

You unlocked the door and waved him in, watching as he set your flowers on the small table beside the door. After setting your purse on the couch, you turned to face Jake and tried to resist the urge to wipe your slightly sweaty palms on your dress as you kicked off your shoes. Maybe you had misread everything. Or maybe he was still trying to “treat you right,” by his standards and take things slow. You wanted to respect what he wanted. “You don’t have to stay, Ken.” But god, you wanted him to.

Jake huffed before shaking his head. “You gotta know that I don’t want to leave, Punch. But I don’t want to hurt you. I would never-”

“I’m okay,” you let out in a rush. “I promise.” The smile you tried to keep from your face pushed its way free anyway as you shuffled a little closer to him.

“And I want to keep you that way.” Jake shook his head and you almost shivered when he let his fingers trail down your arms before dropping back to his sides, like he just needed to touch you. “Trust me, there’s nothing more I’d like than to keep this date going, but I would not be able to live with myself if I set you back in your recovery because I did something.” The slightest bit of pink dusted his cheeks as he said that, too.

It was so sweet. So adorably kind that all you could do was smile. “I’m not in danger of dying right now, Ken.”

“That’s not funny.”

You sighed and reached out to grasp his hands, pulling at them until they were pressing at your hips. “I’m here. Upright and mobile. I’m okay.”

“Your doctor said-”

“That I was cleared yesterday,” you said with a growing smile. That appointment had been a bright spot of your week for several reasons.

There was a slight pause before his hands tightened on your hips. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, Ken.”

You felt his fingers drum against the low of your back before he leaned closer. “So, for twenty four hours, this entire date, I’ve been trying to be a gentleman and you-”

“Oh, just kiss me.”

And he did. His kiss immediately dominated all of your senses, hot, heavy, and hard. Your back hit the wall beside the door and you could feel Jake’s smile again as you giggled against his mouth. This was perfect.

The smile faded as Jake’s mouth slid down the side of your neck, no doubt feeling your thrumming pulse, and a breathy moan slipped from between your lips.

“I’ve hardly touched you,” Jake said, words vibrating against your heated skin as you let your hands grasp at his shoulders, needing to anchor yourself to something. “You already singin’ for me?”

Your laugh was just as embarrassingly breathy, too. “Can’t help it.” You really couldn’t. Every nerve ending was starting to spark and burn delightfully, your mind already hazing. He kissed you again and his grip tightened on your waist before trailing up your sides.

He pulled back just enough to breathe against your lips. “You want this?”

The question cleared your mind for a moment but only served to send a bolt of soft warmth straight through you. “I do. I want you, I want this,” you whispered in return.

You could feel his answering smile before he kissed you again, harder and bordering on desperate.

You wanted him.

He wanted you.

Jake pawed at the top of your dress until your breasts were spilling out, nipples instantly hardening against the air conditioned chill of your room. “Fucking beautiful,” Jake muttered before diving down to press a searing kiss right over the swell of your heart. His large hands yanked the rest of your dress down just enough for him to grab at your chest, squeezing your breasts together as he lathed attention on one and then the other and then back again. Kisses turned into licks, turned into the lightest scrapes of his teeth that had your breath stuttering and knees shaking.

“Jake…” Your voice was little more than a moan, torn from your throat.

Big sea glass green eyes peered up at you, nearing sparkling in the low light of the room, as he continued to bite and suck and kiss at the exposed skin. But then, as if knowing you were already too far gone for words, his lips closed around a nipple and tugged, pulling a keening whimper from you as your hands wove through his short blond hair, drawing him closer. The heat of him, of his talented mouth, was all consuming. You couldn’t control the tightening in your lower stomach, nor the whimpers that left your kiss-bitten lips as he switched to the other side.

“So perfect,” he said, words muffled as he burrowed his nose into your sternum. “Perfect for me.” He glanced up and your heart stuttered at the heat in his gaze. The green of his eyes was nearly entirely gone, eaten by the black of his pupil.

Your grip on his hair tightened the slightest bit, dragging him up again to press an open mouthed kiss against his wanting lips. “Take me to bed,” you panted.

It was a blessedly short trip to the bed on the other side of the room and as soon the backs of your knees hit the soft bedding his hands skimmed up your sides, dragging your dress with it. His lips followed, lathing heat against your skin and up your sternum. Then he slowly, carefully pulled the offending fabric off, taking care to not jerk your arms up too high or too quickly. But his attention was soon back on your skin, pressing his mouth against the swell of your breasts.

“So fucking beautiful,” he said, words muffled against your heated skin. He could probably feel your heart beating a mile a minute beneath your ribs. But you knew he did when he took a moment to press kisses to the raised scars that now littered your torso.

It was almost too much for you and you pulled him up and fumbled with the buttons on his shirt before shoving it off his shoulders and then did the same to the button on his trousers and shoved them down before grabbing handfuls of his unfairly toned thighs and squeezing. You didn’t let go when he had to step out of his shoes and shoved his trousers off the rest of the way. God, he was warm everywhere. “You’re pretty,” you murmured against his neck, letting his expensive cologne and heat keep your mind buzzing.

“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” You had to laugh but it quickly faded when Jake’s roughened hands slid down the expanse of your thighs, and his mouth followed, sliding along the soft skin on your right leg and then the left, making sure to press a hard kiss to the scars there, too. The simple touch had you quaking beneath his grasp. “It’s only fair, darlin’. You know how much I love these legs of yours.”

“Y-you’re ridiculous!”

“Maybe, but you’re still beautiful.” His thick fingers slipped under the lace edges of your underwear and quickly pulled them down and you just as readily kicked them away. A hot kiss was pressed to your right hip and then your left before he gently shoved you back onto the bed, your legs falling open. Wider shoulders had your legs spreading further as he shoved his way between them and he licked a bold strip through your folds and nearly had you wailing. “And you taste so good, too.” Again and again Jake licked and sucked and nibbled until the heat that had started burning with the first brush of his lips overwhelmed you and stars burst behind your eyes.

When you came down, your thighs were wrapped around Jake’s head and shaking but he didn’t seem to care as he pressed a slick kiss to each of your thighs before carefully helping you set your legs back down before helping you lay further back across the bed. “Yeah, still beautiful.”

With aftershocks still shaking your fingers, you pulled him up again, tasting yourself on his tongue when it slipped between your lips. “Still want you,” you murmured, unabashed.

“You’ll get me. You’ve got me.” Jake curled his body over yours as he took your mouth again. You greedily shoved at his boxer briefs and let out a sigh when you felt the length of him press against the meat of your inner thigh. “Condom?” He asked.

“Got a clear bill of health and just renewed my birth control prescr-” The rest of your explanation was cut short when he kissed you again and you felt him press at your entrance. The first push knocked the wind right out of your lungs. “O-oh!”

“God, you’re so warm.” His words were pulled taut and his knuckles were nearly white as they pressed into the blanket beneath you.

You pawed at his shoulders as he sunk further, further, further. God, he was so deep. “J-Jake!”

“Almost there, darlin’, you’re taking me so well.”

When his hips finally touched yours, each breath was ragged and short as you tried to breathe through the burn that came with his size. He was so deep. Jake pressed gentle kisses across your jaw, murmuring to take all the time you needed but you saw his arms shaking on either side of your head.

“Move,” you said.

“You sur-”

“Move!” You laughed, but it was quickly taken over by a broken moan with Jake’s first thrust. Every drag and pull of him had new sparks sizzling up your spine until you were nothing more than a heap of shaking limbs and heated skin. “Jake, please!” It was all you could say. What you were pleading for, you wouldn’t be able to articulate, but it didn’t matter because Jake seemed to know as his thrusts grew more forceful, pushing you further up the bed and dragging a hand down your leg to squeeze at the dough of your thigh and having it tighten around his hip so he could reach further into you. “Jake!”

“Give it to me, darlin’. C’mon. I know you can.” His whispered words were scalding against your ear and you let out a wail as he hit something deep inside you again again again again. The feeling only grew when his hands swept beneath you on the bed and hauled your hips higher as he drove into you. “Is that it? That where you need me?”

All you could do was moan and hang on as he continued to hit that spot you had never known existed. Your legs lifted, too, wrapping around his waist and that seemed to be the right thing to do as Jake slid one hand down to grab at one, widening you up to his thrusts—and with just a handful more snaps of his hips, you broke into a million little pieces of stardust.

**

With just a few more thrusts, Jake met his own end, shuddering above you. And you were glorious, beautiful, sated. He had never seen anyone look so wonderfully undone as you. Jake pushed up onto his knees and could only smile down at you before stealing a kiss against your mouth and then another and another until he got what he wanted: a soft laugh, breathy and satisfied, if he did say so himself. The simple sound had his already thundering heart leaping. Then you reached up and pushed a few errant strands of hair away from his forehead. The words he wanted to say were on the tip of his tongue but he bit them back—he wanted to tell you with flowers and something sweet, not when you could think he was just caught up in the endorphin rush.

“You’re impossible, you know,” you said, snapping him out of his train of thought.

“What?”

“You’re still so pretty after all that? Impossible.” You punctuated it with a soft tug at his hair before your hand swept to his cheek and your thumb smoothed an easy path on the half moon beneath his eye.

God. He could look at you forever. “If I’m pretty, then you’re-”

Your fingers pressed over his lips as you halfheartedly rolled your eyes. “You already got me in bed, Ken. Don’t need to butter me up.”

Jake kissed your fingers before pulling your hand away from his mouth and leaning down to steal another kiss. “I think you should be told how beautiful you are every day.”

Jake felt you freeze for a moment, rigid under his grip. “Sounds exhausting.”

“I’m up for the challenge.” He could have said it then, too. Almost did. Instead, he carefully pulled out and smirked at your moan with the movement. Jake swept a hand down your sternum to your belly before rolling off the bed and walking into the bathroom. He quickly found a washcloth and ran it under some hot water and wrung it out before walking back out.

God, you were beautiful. Still trying to catch your breath on the rumpled blankets (and if Jake felt a little zing of pride and seeing you so debauched, so be it), Jake slid next to you and carefully cleaned up the mess he’d made of you. He couldn’t stop touching you. Didn’t ever want to stop, but he did eventually pull away to drag his underwear back on and brushed his lips against your palm as you reached for him, curling your fingers around his cheek. But even with you still on his tongue and your body heart bleeding over him, he felt the first tendrils of doubt start to creep up the back of his mind.

Did you want him to stay? Did you regret it? Did-

“Will you stay?” You asked, voice much quieter than you had been all night. It reminded him of when you were surprised he had wanted to go to Junior’s engagement party. Maybe you were nervous, too.

“Of course I’ll stay, Punch.”

Your answering smile was near blinding and you wiggled around on the bed just enough to pull the blankets down to invite him under the sheets beside you—wow, you both really just fell onto the bed, absolutely no patience. After you washed up in the bathroom and turned off the rest of the lights, you slipped beneath the sheets too, eyes bright in the moonlight streaming from the small window.

He could look at you forever. He just had to tell you that. Some day.

**

Things were good and fun and wonderful. Jake took you to that Italian restaurant and then you danced in your little living room. You went out to the movies and laughed behind your bucket of popcorn when the horror movie victims lived up to their cliches. Jake would press smiling kisses to your mouth in good morning in the shadows of the hangar. But he was also fond of swallowing every sound you made while driving deep and holding you close and you got to find out what it felt like to have the weight of him on your tongue.

Yeah, things were good.

Things were good even when Detective White called to tell you that Luke might have been spotted back on the East Coast—at least he wasn’t still lurking somewhere in the shadows of San Diego, waiting for you. It was good because you only had about a week left on desk duty and Bradley and Natasha were still annoyingly in love and Bob had agreed to (eventually) meet the woman Jake said was “perfect” for him. Georgie had given birth to a healthy, happy baby boy and you had plans to visit in a few weeks’ time with Danny.

You may have still had those words waiting on your tongue, unspoken and waiting, but you knew they were going to spill out sooner or later, especially when Jake kissed you so sweetly. Everything was strangely easy with him and you knew it was a little too early to think of the future when it was so soon into whatever this was with Jake, but maybe it really could be this easy. There were short tiffs, of course, but it was good.

Things were good.

“Hey, darlin’. Can I talk to you for a moment?”

You looked up from the paperwork on your desk to see Jake standing in the door of your office. A joke was on the tip of your tongue when you spied the envelope in his hands. You knew what that envelope meant. You knew that look in his eyes. “How long?”

“Eight weeks.”

“Oh.” You swallowed the lump in your throat and set down your pen with unsteady fingers. “You leave next week, don’t you?” You already knew the answer—Admiral Simpson had been heard talking about it yesterday.

Jake set the envelope down as he rounded your desk and pulled you up and close, pressing a kiss to your forehead, your nose, then a slow kiss to your lips before standing straight again as his hands settled on your hips. “I don’t want-”

“You and I both know that the Navy doesn’t care what we want, Ken. You have to go. And I’m going to be waiting for you when you come back.” You tried to smile but you knew it looked more like a grimace. So, you tried a different tactic. “It’ll fly by.”

Jake pulled his lips into his mouth for a moment before sighing but you could tell he wanted to laugh. “That was a terrible pun.”

“I think you like me anyway.”

Jake smiled then, all softness and sweet. “Yeah, I think I’ll keep you around.” He pulled you close again and had you giggling the moment his lips touched your neck.

“You went on plenty of deployments before me and there will be deployments after-”

“Don’t say ‘after you,” Jake grumbled. “I don’t want there to be an after you.”

The words had your heart leaping. “I wasn’t going to say ‘after me,’ Ken. I was saying that after I’m cleared, you’ll have a few more with me. Okay? It is just this one.”

A small bright spot was knowing Javy, Callie, and Neil were also going with him. You and Jake tried to make the most of the week you had left before his deployment. There were quiet dinners in your small room and falling asleep in your bed as reruns of old sitcoms played on the television. There were quickies, too, of course, that always left your legs shaking and his come running down your thighs. But you still weren’t entirely sure what you were with Jake. He obviously wasn’t picking up women at the Hard Deck and spent most of his nights with you, slotting into place like he’d always meant to be there. But neither one of you had put a label on it. But you remembered Bradley’s scolding. You remembered that Jake himself had said that he knew you felt the way about him the same way he felt about you.

You tried and failed not to think about it too much as you walked with Jake through the muted crowds on the dock near the carrier. Dawn had just started to break on the horizon and your fingers brushed against Jake’s for the fifth time as you neared the ramp onto the hulking mass of steel. You only broke away to hug the others and wish them luck and safety before coming back to Jake’s side. There were too many eyes out here. Your relationship—no matter how undefined it was—was still unapproved and discouraged by Naval Regulation. There could be consequences if you kissed him goodbye now.

But you wanted to.

“You stay safe, okay?” You murmured as you turned to him.

“I’ll try my best, darlin’,” he said in return, grip tightening on his bag for a moment before letting loose again. Like he was fighting the urge to touch you, too.

The most you allowed yourself to do was hug him like you did the others while you blinked back the tears stinging your eyes. You should say it now. Say it. Say it. Say it. But wouldn’t that be cruel, to say it now when you couldn’t do more?

As you pulled back, it looked like Jake wanted to say something—his mouth opened and—

The carrier’s horn blasted and halted anything he might have said. You watched him shake his head before his hand fell to your shoulder. Only the careful swipe of his thumb against your pulse separated the touch from anything platonic. “I’ll be seeing you, Punch.” And then he was turning and walking away, a tightness in his shoulders you hadn’t seen since the hospital.

Something inside you cracked at the sight of it, growing larger with each step he took away from you. Every deployment could be dangerous. Hell, every time he got into the cockpit was dangerous. You could lose him.

And he wouldn’t…

“Jake!” You called out, his name bursting out from between your lips.

He turned back to you, brows pinching.

This was it. You didn’t want to hide. You would handle the consequences, no matter what they were. You needed to tell him. You pushed through the crowd and Jake dropped his bag at his feet and he reached for you just as you reached for him.

Your hands slid over his broad shoulders and up to cradle the back of his head as he curled his arms around your waist and hauled you close. You kissed him. You kissed him and didn’t care who saw as you felt him press at the seam of your lips and happily let him lead you through the unhurried but all consuming embrace; he had wanted this, too.

“Come back to me, okay?” You whispered against his mouth as you broke away, chest heaving. “Promise me.”

“I promise,” he said, voice strong despite the desperate look in his eyes. “I’m coming back to you. No matter what.”

“I love you, you know that?” There, you’d said it. For better or worse.

Jake’s smile started slow but soon lit up his entire face and he kissed you, pressing his lips to yours so intensely that you thought he might be trying to sear the touch into your marrow. “I love you, too. I have for a long time, I think.” And then he kissed you again and didn’t step back until the carrier let out another horn blast. “I’ve got to go but I will be back. I’ve gotta come back to my girl.”

You could only nod as he slowly walked backward toward the carrier, trying to keep you in his sight for as long as possible and taking your heart with him.

**

Jake hadn’t been expecting to be called into the Admiral’s temporary office before he had even put his duffel on his tiny bedroll, but here he was, standing in front of Admiral Simpson, hoping beyond hope that this wasn’t what he was thinking it was.

You loved him. You loved him and he didn’t want to have it ruined by something as stupid as regulation.

Cyclone crossed his arms over his chest before sighing. “I should have you formally reprimanded and have her moved to a different squadron, if not an entirely different shore station. You and I both know that, Lieutenant Commander.” He was quiet and Jake felt a bead of sweat roll down the back of his neck. He couldn’t lose you. Not now. “But I made Kazansky a promise. I promised to keep that young woman safe whenever she stepped foot on base. She is a remarkable AD and has proven herself to be an irreplaceable part of this team. The Daggers are better with her, and she is better with the Squadron.” He was quiet again and Jake tried not to feel too hopeful as the man continued. “I will require the necessary paperwork on my desk by 0700 the day after we are back stateside so I can pretend that you two went about this correctly and I won’t have someone with more stars on their collar trying to rip this squadron apart. Am I understood?”

“Understood, sir.” Jake didn’t even care that he was supposed to be on shore leave for two weeks after every deployment. He would get that paperwork to Cyclone an hour after docking if he had said so. Jake would happily do a thousand pushups before dinner and be grounded for a month if it meant that you didn’t have to hide, that you wouldn’t be separated because of protocol or paperwork.

Cyclone nodded. Just once. “Good. Dismissed.” If Jake sprinted out of Cyclone’s office, neither of them mentioned it. But the Lieutenant whom Jake would be sharing a bunk with definitely asked why he was smiling like a mad man when they finally crossed paths.

Jake didn’t care.

Come hell or high water, he was going back to you.

**

If Bradley asked if you were okay one more time, you were going to steal his lunch.

“I just worry about you!”

“Get away from me, Bradshaw. I swear to god-!” The rest of your rant was cut off by sweet Bob pulling you into a different classroom and handing you a water bottle.

“Drink this.”

You did as you were told and by the time the bottle was empty, you felt marginally less prone to lunch thievery. When you handed the bottle back to him, Bob sighed. He seemed to do that a lot lately and it had only been a week since Jake and the others had gone. “I’m bad at this, aren’t I?”

(The rest of the Daggers had been given a hard launch of you and Jake being together after Callie posted a photo to the group chat—it was supposed to be of her and Neil before they got on the carrier but you and Jake were clearly seen in the background kissing.

Not your finest moment but everyone seemed to be happy for you both and Admiral Bates chuckled after calling you into his office to tell you to fill out the required paperwork—how he found out was anyone’s guess but you were thankful that he was fine with it all. While the stack of red tape was a bit of a slog to get through, you finished it as quickly as you could despite being told that you’d have to wait to formally file it until Jake completed his, too. The stack of paper was kept safely in the bottom locked drawer of your desk, just waiting for Jake.)

“I’ve been told it gets easier,” Bob said with a small smile. “It’s only been a week, Punch. Give yourself time.”

You sighed and leaned just enough to press your forehead against his shoulder. Maybe tensions were high (with you in particular) because today was supposed to be your first day back in the hangar and…it rained so everyone was grounded until the weather cleared. “I mean, whenever you guys would get sent out I would worry, but this feels different. Is that stupid? Or am I just losing it?”

Bob sighed and you felt his hands start to press careful, patient lines up and down your back. “Not stupid and not losing it. But I think ‘s different when you care about the person leaving.”

“I care about you,” you muttered into his shirt.

“Not the same way and you know it.” His hands continued their careful touches and you relaxed a little more. God, whoever earned Bob’s love was going to be so lucky. “If I was a betting man, I would say Seresin is probably feeling the same way except he’s stuck in a tiny metal room.”

You laughed and a tiny bit of tension slipped from your shoulders. “Thank you, Robby. I promise to not throttle Bradley or steal his lunch.”

And now it was Bob’s turn to laugh. “Reasonable.”

The rest of the day didn’t exactly crawl by but you were still thankful to walk out to the parking lot by the end of the day, even if you knew you were still only going across base to watch more Golden Girls with a frozen meal. You’d get through this.

You knew it.

Just as you pulled into your usual spot outside your temporary home, your phone rang. Detective White’s name flashed across the screen and you sighed, bracing for no new news, before answering.

“Have you been to your house today?” He asked instead of a greeting.

“What?”

“We need you to come here, take a look at things.”

You were struck silent, sitting in the driver’s seat of your car. “I…” What were you even supposed to say to that? “Yeah, okay. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” The drive to your little bungalow was done in a haze, you didn’t even remember turning down your street or pulling into the driveway. Three patrol cars and a beat up Cadillac were parked along the curb, too. Two uniformed cops were waiting by your front door and checked your ID when you asked for Detective White before waving you inside.

Just for a moment, it did actually feel like coming home. This had been your home for almost two years and…

“It’s been a long time, hasn’t it, baby?”

The cruel echo of Luke’s voice had you flinching before the faded scent of bleach did. Your next breath stuttered in your throat as you glanced toward the bookcases and the floor beneath them. You had nearly died here. Nearly bled out in your home. It looked like all of your books had been placed in boxes, stacked at the mouth of the hallway.

You hardly saw any of it as your eyes were drawn to the broken glass that littered your kitchen floor and then the terrible deep, dark red paint splattered on the wall above your television.

COME OUT COME OUT WHEREVER YOU ARE

“Good, you’re here.”

You jumped at the sound of Detective White’s voice and turned to face him with an unsteady smile. “I’m assuming you called to tell me about this?” You asked, hooking a thumb over your shoulder at the crude paint job.

Detective White nodded. “Yeah.”

“I thought you said Luke was on the East Coast?” Keeping the angry disbelief out of your voice was a Herculean task—one that you failed, spectacularly, if the detective’s flinch was any indication.

He tapped his pen against his stupid pad of paper. “We had a tip that he was.”

“But nothing concrete? Have you stopped the search for him around here?”

“No, we still have the tip line open here, too.”

“Tip line,” you bit out. “But no one is looking? You’re just hoping that someone will spot him and you’ll be able to catch him this time?” Dragging a hand over your mouth, you tried to suck in a steadying breath that only marginally worked.

“We follow up on each one,” he said as if that would help.

“Sure. Of course you do. Is there a reason you needed me to come here?”

He then went on a spiel about you needing to look around to see if anything was missing or broken because there had been a series of break ins in the neighborhood and they just wanted to make sure that this was connected either to Luke or to the low level thieves before proceeding.

It took you about three and a half minutes to realize nothing was missing other than one of the knives from the block but you had a hunch that it was probably in an evidence bag, if the cops had found it at all. Your anger at the cops swiftly disintegrated into fear when you realized that it meant Luke was now back in the city. Or he had never left. Neither was a great option and you told Detective White what you thought and only earned another tap of his pen against his stupid fucking notebook.

You seethed as you stomped to your car and tried to pull in a soothing breath when you buckled yourself in. It didn’t work. But fine. You just needed to get back to base and slip beneath your room’s mostly soft blankets and pretend this didn’t happen for at least a few hours. Sure. You could do that.

But, just as you pulled onto the highway, your low gas light clicked on. Perfect, just perfect. There was a gas station just off the next off-ramp so you took it, hoping for a quick stop. But, of course, when you pulled up to the pump, there was a sticker over the card reader, stating that you’d have to pay inside. With a sigh, you locked your car and started toward the gas station. You made it two steps before coming to an abrupt stop when a bright red car screeched around you and came to a stop at the pump just beside your car. Whatever. Not your problem.

You heard the other car’s door open and close and then…

“Hi, baby.”

There was no way he was here. No way. No. Every hair stood on end and it took you a stretched moment to even muster the courage to turn to face him.

“Luke…” His name cracked in your throat as your heart hammered against your ribs. It only increased when you caught a flash of something in his hand, shining and terrible.

A gun.

You took a step back and then another and another as your eyes bounced around the parking lot, looking for someone, anyone to help you. And you saw no one, nothing except other empty cars.

“Don’t do this.”

Luke smiled, all teeth. “I’m having fun with it now, baby. I wonder how many times I can shoot you before you actually die? Maybe I should have gutted you, you know, see what you’re hiding inside you that keeps your heart beating.”

The more he spoke, the more you realized that he was drunk, every few syllables slurred and messy. Your next step nearly had you toppling over as your heel collided with the curb. Pain lanced up your palm as you blindly thrust your arm out to keep yourself upright by grabbing the concrete pillar. Luke took a step forward and raised the gun-

The lights of a car coming into the gas station pulled his attention for just a moment and you made the split second decision to dash into the gas station when his head was turned. You nearly bowled over another woman as soon as you were inside, the bell above the door screaming your arrival, and you quickly bit out an apology before yelling, “he’s got a gun! Please—call the cops!”

The man behind the register immediately pulled out his cell phone and you saw him dial 9-1-1 before your blood ran cold when you heard the bell chime again. All the air in the tiny shop was sucked out when the telltale sound of a gun’s hammer being pulled back filled the air. You knew if you looked behind you, you’d see Luke pointing a gun right at your head. Without sparing a look back, you dove down the nearest aisle, nearly bashing your head against a row of chips. You heard the shot tear through one of the freezer cases before the cacophony of screams and shouts of the other patrons rang out, too. Before you could even crawl behind another row of snacks or curl into a protective ball, the screech of the bell came again and the gas station was silent and still.

Instinctively, you knew he was gone again. In the wind.

You didn’t particularly remember the police arriving nor the “escort” down to the station. Giving your statement a handful of times felt robotic, detached. You didn’t react when the responding officers said Luke likely fled when he realized there were other people in the gas station. You barely flinched when Detective White came in and you saw him tap tap tap his pen on his notepad.

“It was Luke,” you muttered. “You can probably see it on the cameras.”

Your drive back to base hours later wasn’t exactly memorable and you sat on the small couch in the dark for a stretched moment until your phone rang. It felt like your arms had fallen asleep as you fumbled to get it out of your purse.

“Hi, sweetheart.” The sound of Sarah’s sweet voice immediately had you sobbing.

Unsurprisingly (but still embarrassingly), Sarah was in your little room within the hour and didn’t mind at all when you slouched into her lap as more Golden Girls reruns played on the television. Her soft fingers traced flowers and stars into your arm after your tears eventually ran out. She said nothing when you had told her what had happened other than a soft, “I’ve got you, sweetheart. I’ve got you.”

**

Four weeks into the deployment, Jake was finally given allowance to make a video call to you—he had been told that he was allotted two calls every two weeks but so far he’d only been able to call his mom once. The entire deployment had been a clusterfuck. Jet malfunctions mixed with food past its expiration only added to the usual stress that came with a deployment of this scale. Having Javy, Omaha, and Halo with him was nice—Javy much more than the others, if Jake was being honest—but he still wanted you. He didn’t want to be away from you, especially not with how things were left when he had been called away. The fact that Luke still hadn’t been caught had bit at the back of his mind daily. He knew you were safe on base but…

The call rang twice before your pixelated face came into view and Jake felt something shift behind his ribs, like he was waiting to take another breath until he saw you again. “Hey, darlin’.”

“Hey, Ken.”

Jake’s spine went rigid at your tone. Even with the shitty connection, he heard how tired you were. “What’s going on?”

Your answering sigh crackled through the connection. “I’ll tell you when you get back, okay? How…how is everything going? Are you doing-”

Jake leaned a little closer to the tiny camera as if that would help you understand what he was saying. “No, c’mon, Punch. Don’t do that, not to me. You can talk to me, remember?”

You rolled your lips into your mouth for a moment. “Fine. But first I need you to know that I’m safe, all right?”

Ice ran through Jake’s veins. No one should have to start a conversation with that. “Punch-”

“No one was hurt. I, um, I’m not really leaving base anymore—but I will be there to pick you up when you come back in. Luke seems skittish with crowds anyway. I’ll be safe there, too.”

“Just tell me what happened,” he said, voice a little harsher than he wanted and his anger dissolved when he saw you flinch. “Jesus, sorry. I wasn’t yelling-”

“I know,” you murmured. “I know you weren’t.” Another sigh pushed through you before you shook your head. “Luke found me at a gas station. He had a gun. He’s a lousy shot and took off when he realized there were other people around. Sarah and the Daggers are on a rotation; someone is with me all the time. Admiral Bates also had even more security put on each entrance to base, too, after I had to tell him what happened.”

Jake nodded, knowing that it was standard protocol to tell your commanding officer if something happened and the civilian authorities had to get involved. Knowing Admiral Bates was stepping up security was a small relief but Jake wondered how quickly he’d be court martialed if he just flew back to you.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” you said next.

“I wasn’t go-”

“Ken.”

He might have laughed if this were a different situation. Realizing you knew him well enough to pinpoint exactly when a thought as stupid as flying back to you was crossing his mind, if you would be able to call him an idiot to his face and say something about using his two remaining brain cells to only make moronic decisions, he might have laughed about it. But he couldn’t so he didn’t. “What can I do?”

You were quiet for a moment before the smallest hint of a smile pushed at your lips. “Can you tell me something funny?”

Jake didn’t have to rack his brain a lot to find something, but he hoped it could keep that smile on your face. “Well, I’m on this boat with another aviator, right?”

“I know how deployments work, Ken.”

“His callsign is Honey.”

“Don’t throw stones in glasshouses, Hangman.”

Jake almost smiled then, too, and continued on. “But his backseater’s name is Badger.”

The quiet laugh you let out would have to be enough for now—it seemed like that small sound was all you were capable of right now. But the tight line of your neck and shoulders unraveled. So, for the rest of his allotted time, he took every opportunity he had to make you laugh. Before he was kicked out of the little room, you made him promise to keep himself safe.

“I love you,” you whispered.

“Love you too.”

He didn’t think he’d ever get tired of saying it.

**

You waved to Bradley and Tasha as they stood like guard dogs near the entrance to the parking lot. They’d come with you without a grumble but they appreciated the pastry and coffee you brought them as a thank you anyway. God, you just wanted to set eyes on Jake again. These past few weeks had been so fucking weird. Not leaving base had been fine, mostly. Having a friend or Sarah with you every night was nice for the most part but you did always feel like you were interrupting their lives with your bullshit. But even without that, the threat you had always managed to ignore or push to the back of your mind was now front and center.

Luke wanted you dead, no matter the cost.

And you, no matter how cliche it was, felt like you had just started living.

People had started to trickle off the carrier’s ramp and you tried to shake off the nerves you'd been living with for weeks. This was supposed to be a good thing. You scanned the crowds and spotted Javy’s girlfriend, Hope, and Neil’s parents beside Callie’s wife, and then you had to squint at the next group you spotted. Green eyes. Blonde hair. All of them. You knew them, didn’t you?

They seemed to spot you, too, and quickly turned course toward you. And then it dawned on you.

Oh god.

This wasn’t how you wanted to meet Jake’s mother and sister.

Sandra was leading the charge with one of her daughters behind her. There was no mistaking it now, they were headed right toward you.

“Hi there!” A delightful Texan twang hit your ears over the excited din of the crowds and you hoped your answering smile didn’t betray how nervous you were as you held out your hand for her to shake.

“I’m-”

“Punch!” Sandra finished for you before she threw her arms around you in a tight hug. And there was little fight in you to do anything but reciprocate. She rubbed your back for a moment then stepped back, holding you at arms length with that same warm smile on her face. “Oh, I am so happy to meet you, officially.”

“It is wonderful to officially meet you, too. I’m sure Jake will be so happy to see you both.”

Sandra laughed with a shake of her head as she dropped her hold. “We will probably just be an added bonus—you’ll be the star of the show, I’m sure.”

A surprised chuckle escaped you, a little strangled. What exactly did they know about you? What had Jake said? “Agree to disagree.”

Sandra was quick to introduce Mia, who also gave you a quick hug. “Kelly and Alex weren’t able to take off work but they’ll probably demand to FaceTime later.”

“I didn’t know you all were coming! Did you have trouble finding the port?” You asked, feeling a bit like you were intruding.

“Oh, not at all. And don’t you worry about us stealing too much of your time with Jacob,” Sandra said with a wink.

It immediately made your stomach twist. Oh god. This was embarrassing. “N-no, I, um-”

“You’re killing her, mama. Let her breathe,” Mia said with a smile. “Jacob probably still hasn’t grown a pair and said-”

“Mia!” Sandra scolded. “Language!”

Both you and Mia snorted (Mia more so than you) before her mother huffed and shook her head. “But she’s right. We’re just in town for a few hours and then heading up the coast to a cattle auction. We figured we could see him for a bit, we hope you don’t mind.”

You shook your head, chest warming at learning how adorably close Jake was to his family. “Of course not. I know he’ll be happy to see y-” Your words cut off in a scream as familiar arms wrapped around your waist from behind and hauled you into the air for a moment as you were spun in a circle. As soon as your feet touched the ground, you turned and poked at Jake’s chest. “Don’t do that! You-” His lips on yours quickly stifled any halfhearted argument you may have had, too. At least for a moment. When he pulled back, a familiar smirk on his face, you were quick to say, “that's so rude. You can’t just kiss me-”

He kissed you again and probably would have continued if someone hadn’t cleared their throat behind you.

“Please tell me my mother isn’t here.” His words vibrated against your smiling mouth as he stood stock-still with you still in his arms. Oh, this was hilarious.

“I don’t think the Jurassic Park Tyrannosaurus Rex rules apply to your mom, Ken. She can definitely see us.”

**

“Yes, she can see you,” his mother said, a laugh muddling her words.

Jake gave you one last kiss before stepping back and hugging his mother, trying to will the intense blush he felt blotting his cheeks away. He really hadn’t been expecting them—he had only had eyes for you as soon as his boots hit solid ground. And the fact that he hadn’t slept properly for eight weeks might have muddled his thought process anyway.

“Surprise!” Mia exclaimed.

He was quick to hug her, too, happy to see her smiling in person again. After his mom explained that they were only in town for a few hours, you suggested getting a bite to eat at one of the diners down the road. That worked for everyone and Jake started to herd the small group of women toward the parking lot, only pausing when he saw you stop to speak in low tones with Phoenix and Rooster. It seemed the pair needed a bit of reassurance to let you leave their line of sight but Phoenix eventually poked Rooster’s side with enough force to have him relent. Jake raised a hand in thanks to them before you rejoined his little group and he let you lead him to your car as you gave directions to the diner to his mother. The ride was short, thankfully, but he was happy just to feel the warmth of your thigh beneath his hand as you drove.

The hostess was quick to seat them when they arrived and his mother made sure to shove Jake onto the same side of the booth as you with a wink that had another blush inching its way up his face. She’d never been subtle.

“Well,” his mother started with a smile as her gaze moved between you and Jake after you all had ordered, “it seems like we may have been left uninformed about a few things.”

“It’s…new,” Jake said, feeling like he did when he was twelve and had been caught with his hand in the literal cookie jar.

“It doesn’t seem new.”

Jake kicked his sister beneath the table and earned a boot to his knee in return. She hadn’t even flinched. “What does that even mean?”

“It means that you guys seem settled, happy.” Mia paused, unsuccessfully hiding a smirk behind her hand. “Like an old married couple.���

Jake felt your eyes on him and it did little to deter that thought of you in a white dress and a smile on your lips walking toward him. Married. Jake knew he had thought of you in that way for months before he even knew what it was like to kiss you, but to hear someone like Mia say it? It felt like…

“Either way, we’re happy to see you both so happy,” Mia said with a wink, giving him an out. “And now we get to finally learn all about you. Jake was pretty sparse in the details he gave about you. Other than your ability to keep him on his toes and the way your eyes seemed to stare straight through him.”

His face was on fire now and the temperature only grew when he heard your laugh. “Straight through you, huh? What else has he said?”

“Nothing. I’ve said nothing.”

You patted Jake’s leg with a laugh. “Let the women talk, Jacob. You can try and fail to tell me that you didn’t say any of it later.”

The food arrived by the time Jake’s ears were burning and you were laughing like old friends with his sister and mother. He couldn’t help but laugh, too, at a few of the stories they told about him.

“Oh, but enough about Jacob,” his mother said, “tell us more about you. What do you do when you’re not keeping him safe at work?”

You smiled around the straw to your strawberry shake. “I’ve had some time on my hands lately, so I’m trying to write a book.”

“You write?” Mia asked, setting her fork down to give you her attention. “What do you write?”

Jake couldn’t resist teasing his sister and his tired brain forgot a key piece of information when he opened his mouth next. “Oh, c’mon, Mia. You’ve read her books, I gave them to you, remember?”

The silence that followed swallowed the table.

It took two stretched moments for Jake to realize what he had revealed and it washed over him like a wave of cold salt water. “Oh shit.”

You leaned forward to set your head into your hands for a moment before sighing. “Did you knock something loose when you were in the air, Ken?”

“I’m sorry!”

“You’re Georgia Torrance?”

You nodded as you sat back with a small, uneasy smile. “I am. I hope you liked the books.”

“She loves those books! She and her girls talk about them all the time!”

It was Mia’s turn to blush. “Thanks for that, mama,” She grumbled. Mia fiddled with her fork for a moment before her shoulders slumped. “Please tell me my brother hasn’t inspired your books. I’ll never be able to read them again if he did,” she said, only half joking if the strained chuckle she let out was any indication.

Jake hadn’t thought about that. Where did you find inspiration? While it may be a bit of a stroke to his ego if you did see him as a book worthy romantic lead, he could understand why his sister would never want to read them again. He watched you smile and set your hand over Mia’s across the table.

You leaned closer with a glint in your eye that told him whatever came out of your mouth next was probably going to leave him fighting for his life in front of his family. “He wishes.” And then you winked as Mia giggled. As his sister’s giggles petered out, your smile grew, but maybe a little less sharp at the edges. “I just wrote about what I wanted most in the world at the time. Someone gentle and strong and understanding.”

“And they’re gorgeous.”

“Oh, of course. I mean, not everyone is going to think all of my leads are their cup of tea, but if someone finds a bit of joy in my book, I think that’s just as good. I wrote most of them when I was at my loneliest, but I think the stuff I’m working on now is just as good. I hope you still like it.”

Mia’s smile grew and Jake watched her set her other hand over yours. “I’m sure I’m going to love it.”

“We could talk about it later, if you want? I’d love to get your input.”

“I’d love that. Really.”

The rest of the meal flew by and you earned a motherly frown from his mom when you managed to pay for everyone’s meal without them noticing just as they noted it was time for them to hit the road again. You and Mia walked ahead out to the parking lot, exchanging numbers and giggling about something he didn’t hear—but the sight of two of his favorite people getting along made Jake smile, too.

His mom grasped at his arm and pulled him to a top with a gentle look he knew well. Jake was about to be told something she thought he should know already. “She’s wonderful, Jacob. And you’re so happy with her.”

“I am happy, mama.” And he was. He hoped you were, too.

She reached up and gently patted his cheek. “You let me know when you want Gram’s ring.” Then, after kissing his cheek and reminding him to still call on Sunday, she said she loved him and she and Mia were gone.

And, really, who could blame Jake for thinking about the antique diamond and white gold ring on your finger? No one.

“They’re nice,” you said as you climbed back into your car a few minutes later. “I might like them more than you.”

Jake groaned, letting his hand find its usual spot on your thigh as you pulled out of the lot. “I don’t think I’ve ever been dumped for my sister or mom. That would be a first.” He then squeezed your thigh for a moment, earning a squeal.

You halfheartedly slapped at his hand as you pulled out onto the road, heading back toward base. He watched you bite your lip for a stretched second. “We would have to be together for me to dump you.”

What were you talking about? “Do you…”

“Look,” you cleared your throat, “I know we don’t have to put a label on things, but I’d like to know where we…stand. Together.” You then steadfastly refused to look at him as you took another turn.

And, really, Jake couldn’t really comprehend what he had just heard. “Punch, I was under the impression that we were together since you asked me to dinner at the hospital.”

You were quiet for a moment before letting out a soft, “oh.”

So, Jake continued, knowing he needed to lay all his cards on the table. “There is no one else I would do all that paperwork for, you know. I am all in. I’ve been all in with you since before I knew that you snore in your sleep.”

“I do not snore!”

“Yes, you do,” Jake said with a laugh. “But I am happy to hear it. All the time. Whatever you want, I want, as long as it is with you. You’re my girl.” This felt just as important as telling you that he loved you.

“And if I want the whole nine yards? Marriage, babies, a home?” You looked at him out of the corner of your eye. “For a long time, I didn’t think I could get any of that, deserve any of that.”

When you rolled to a stop at a red light, Jake reached out to tip your face in his direction. He wanted to make sure you knew he meant every word. “You deserve it. You do, all of that and more. And I would be honored to be the one to make sure you get it. I love you, darlin’. And I want everything with you.”

**

It was good to have Jake back for several reasons. One of them was that he took over all the “guard dog” duties (as he called them) at night so your other friends could get back to their normal lives. And you would never mind waking up to him on the pillow beside yours in the morning.

Knowing that you were on the same page with everything and this relationship was just…perfect. Something wonderful to focus on instead of knowing Luke was still out there.

Your name being called pulled you away from Natasha and Bob’s jet and you wiped your hands on the rag you kept in your jumpsuit’s pocket as you turned to look at Admiral Simpson a few paces away. “Sir?”

“I need you in my office. Now.” His mouth was set in a firm line with his hands on his hips. That was never a good sign.

A few of the other ADs looked at you as you followed the man out of the hangar and you tried to smile reassuringly at them, despite not knowing just what the hell was happening as you followed him all the way to his office. The grim look on his face didn’t budge even when Jake walked in a few moments later.

“Good. You’re both here.” He turned to grab paperwork from his desk. “I don’t want to be having this conversation. I want you both to know that.”

The rest of what he was saying was little more than a dull ringing in your ears as you realized what he was holding, what that paperwork meant. Something cold ran down your spine when you read one of the names signed at the bottom. You immediately recognized it. It was one of the big brass people who went golfing with Luke’s dad. It felt like the world had been taken out from under your feet and you were falling falling falling with no hope for a soft landing.

“We went about this the right way,” Jake argued, voice cutting through the sudden fog that had permeated your senses. “We filed the paperwork, we-”

“This comes from someone higher up than me, Lieutenant Commander.”

“Well, then what is going to happen?”

Admiral Simpson sighed and your heart dropped when his eyes landed on you. “The easiest route would be to have one of you reassigned.”

You knew it would be you. You were outranked and easily replaceable, all things considered. It would be you. And that was what Luke had wanted to do: to rip your home away from you, to leave you alone in the world again. But you just…

“No.”

“No.”

You looked at Jake and saw him already looking at you when you had spoken in unison.

“There are protocols that need to be followed. If it was up to me, this wouldn’t be an issue. Both of you have proven to be professional while on the flight line. But it is out of my hands. I don’t have a choice.”

“But I do,” you argued, turning to look at him. You rolled your shoulders back, wanting to stand as tall as you could with what you said next. “Please consider this my official acknowledgement that I will not be reenlisting at the end of my contract.”

“Punch!” Jake’s shout only strengthened your resolve.

“You do not have to make this decision now.”

“I do. I…I made a family here. I’m not going to lose it by being transferred to a different shore station.”

Jake whispered your name but you couldn’t look at him now. Not just yet. Not when you had all but set everything in stone.

“Are you sure this is the route you want to take?” Simpson asked, a surprising softness to his tone.

“I am. You can tell your superiors that this situation will be wrapped up in a neat little bow in a few weeks’ time.” You could feel both Jake and Admiral Simpson’s gazes pushing into you as you took a moment to glance down at your boots, trying to keep the resolve you had felt only a few seconds before.

Simpson was the one to break the silence. “I’ll get the paperwork started for you. I’ll have it on your desk by lunch tomorrow.” He paused and you looked up at him to see his mouth set in a sharp downturn. He shook his head before extending a hand out to you and you took it with a small smile. “It was a pleasure serving with you,” he said, making sure to enunciate your name and rank, too. You saluted him as he stepped back and then excused himself after a pointed look at Jake, leaving you alone.

“Punch…what are you doing?” Jake’s voice was soft but you could hear the tension hiding behind each syllable.

“I had to. I am not going to let Luke take this away from me. I have friends here, my best friends. I have made a family here. I…I have you here. I’m not going to let this all go. I won’t.”

Jake was quiet for a moment, sea glass eyes searching your face. But then a small smile pushed at his lips. “All in?”

“All in.”

And when he kissed you, you could feel his smile against your own. This was good, the start of something new.

**

Jake knew that the Daggers would take you leaving like a blow to the chest. When you asked them all to come to the Hard Deck, a place you felt safe in, a little before opening the following Saturday after your discharge papers were filed, there had been yelling and finger pointing and then tears.

Bradshaw had been the one to pull Jake aside when you were distracted by Harvard and Yale trying to get you to apply for one of the civilian contractor positions on base so you’d never be “too far away.”

“This is about Luke, isn’t it?” He asked.

“Yeah. Punch thinks his dad called in a favor with his buddies and had had our paperwork pulled. God knows what he said to his dad to make him think this would help, but-”

“I’ll kill him,” Rooster said through gritted teeth.

“Which one?” Jake asked, not laughing.

“Doesn’t matter. Both of them deserve it.”

The group eventually turned into an impromptu goodbye party for you as the bar opened, despite you still having a few weeks left of your contract. Drinks were bought and shared and Jake noticed how you smiled through it all.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” He asked quietly as he twirled you beneath his arm.

“It is,” you said with a soft pat to his chest. “I told you I wasn’t a lifer. Sure, this wasn’t exactly how I pictured getting out, but…I think I’ll be okay.”

“I’ll make sure of it,” he murmured before reaching up to carefully hold your face.

The night continued and Jake bought a round for everyone after Javy announced that Hope had accepted his proposal. Hope showed off the gorgeous ring (which Jake helped pick out) to almost everyone with a bright smile and then Javy asked Jake to be his best man while you were pulled away by Bob and Phoenix for something. By the time Javy had told Jake the entire proposal story and Jake had already started a mental list of possibilities for his bachelor party, you had disappeared from view.

Jake was not entirely too proud to realize he started to panic when he didn’t immediately find you in the steadily growing crowd, but his heart settled when he spotted you on the back deck. You and Phoenix were talking out on the deck, dying sunlight painting both of you with a golden light. You were rolling your water bottle between your palms while Phoenix stared out toward the waves.

You were telling her about Luke. You were telling her everything. He could tell by the way you held yourself, back straight and uncomfortably rigid, only relaxing when Phoenix reached out to lace her fingers with yours.

“You’ll be good to her, won’t you?”

Jake turned to see Bob and Rooster both looking at him. Jake might have laughed if he didn’t see the sincere looks on their faces.

“I will. And she’s doing this so she can still be near you guys, it isn’t like she’s being sent across the country.”

Bob looked at Rooster, some silent communication passing between them before Rooster nodded. “Still, be good to her.”

“I plan to, for the rest of my life.” And he meant it.

The rest of the night passed with you beneath his arm, smiling and laughing with your friends. It loosened something tight in Jake’s chest each time he heard your laugh. You were going to be okay.

By the time midnight rolled around, the party had quieted a bit, Jake pulled you out to walk a little ways down onto a quieter stretch of the beach in front of a restaurant that had closed for the night, so you could watch the waves again, making you elbow him when he said it was “romantic because it was like our first date again.”

“You’re a sap.”

“Tell anyone and I’ll deny it.”

You hummed, a happy noise, and turned to rest the point of your chin on his chest as you wound your arms around his waist. “Yes, I know. You have a reputation to uphold.” But you still stood there with him and watched the waves until you shivered, the night air coming off the sea cutting through your thin dress.

“Ready to head home?” His hands traced slow circles into the low of your back, earning a soft sigh in return. You were content. Happy. That’s what he wanted for you.

“Yeah,” you murmured.

The yawn you let out next only made Jake smile. “Yeah, let’s get you tucked in.”

“You gonna rock me to sleep?” You asked with a lazy wink as you started to walk toward the parking lot.

Jake groaned only so he wouldn’t have to admit that the line worked on him. “Awful. Truly awful.”

You only laughed. “C’mon, Ken. Let’s go.”

He let you guide him up the bank to the restaurant's empty parking lot—he really did love watching your hips sway with each step. Just as you both stepped onto the asphalt, you froze and Jake didn’t realize you had stopped until he bumped into your back. “What is it?” Jake asked, looking up and trying to find what you were seeing but his blood ran cold when he spotted it. Spotted him.

It was Luke, lurking like a beast in the shadows of the lot’s street lamp.

**

“Get behind me,” Jake said, already pushing you to his back.

“Jake!”

“Come out and fight me! What, you have to wait until she’s alone again?”

You wrapped a hand over Jake’s arm as blood roared in your ears. You needed to leave. Now. You didn’t want Jake to get hurt, you wouldn’t allow it. “Jake-”

But Jake gently shook out of your grip and took a few steps toward Luke. “I’m here now, what’re you gonna do, huh? She’s not alone now—but that’s never stopped you from failing on doing anything worthwhile. You really are the biggest fuck up I’ve ever heard of.”

You knew what he was doing, goading Luke into attacking first so there could be plausible deniability. Jake wouldn’t be the aggressor if anyone asked. But still, you just wanted to leave. To leave and never see Luke again. You swallowed hard and moved to stand at his back again, hand tightening on Jake’s arm, ready to run. “Jake, c’mon.”

“How many times are you going to try to kill her, man? How many chances do you need to actually do something? Don’t you think it’s a little pathetic that you can’t do anything right the first time? And when you can’t, you need your father to come in and clean up your messes.”

Luke gritted his teeth, shining in the moonlight. His hands were curled into fists at his sides and muscle memory had you wanting to run. Hide. Or try to calm him down. But you couldn’t, not now.

“Shut your fucking mouth. You don’t know shit.”

“I know that you beat a woman for doing your job better than you because you liked the bottle more than keeping your pilot alive.”

“I was good at my job!”

Jake laughed, low and rumbling. “And you’re a shit liar, too. You don’t even believe that.”

And that was enough. Luke charged at Jake and you tugged you both out of the way, watching in muted horror as Luke pulled a knife from his pocket and swung blindly. When he swung again with a shout, you shoved Jake to the side and managed to step back just enough to only feel the air rush by your neck.

Jake stumbled and you saw his eyes go wide before he pivoted and threw himself forward, catching Luke around the waist and tackling him to the pavement. He reared back just enough to haul his arm up and landed a blow to Luke’s face. But Luke was not finished either. His head snapped to the side only for a moment before you saw the knife still in his hand.

“Jake!” was all you could scream. Not him. Not your Jake. He couldn’t take him from you.

But you weren’t fast enough. The moonlight caught the blade just before it arced across Jake’s chest as Luke threw his entire weight behind the move, shifting them both to the side. Blood bloomed and soaked through Jake’s shirt as he let out a sharp yell before he wrenched backward, away from Luke who was slowly sitting up, poised to try again.

You dove for them and your knees slammed against the pavement, skidding into Jake’s thighs. Your shaking hands wrapped around Luke’s hand and slammed and slammed and slammed it into the pavement until his grip on the knife loosened and you wrenched it away with a guttural scream of your own.

Luke ripped his hand from yours just enough to backhand you. Pain rippled across your face as white spots danced in front of your eyes for a moment but you hardly had time to recover before a punch left you gasping for air—Luke snarled something, drool gathering at the sides of his lips, but you hardly heard it over the ringing in your ears.

And then you were shoved backward, your spine flattening against the pavement with a muted shout of your own. Luke pushed himself up onto his feet, looming over you for a moment, cloaked in shadow. But you couldn’t be scared. Not now. You kicked, your heel connecting with his crotch, and sent him to his knees again.

“You bitch!” He seethed. “You-”

The rest of his threat was cut off as Jake’s arm wrapped around his throat, you hadn’t even realized he had moved. Luke reached up to claw at Jake’s skin but he didn’t falter, even as he thrashed in his grip.

Heaving yourself back onto your feet, you watched Luke’s face get steadily redder and his attempts to get out of Jake’s hold grew more sluggish by the moment. A small bit of you liked it, liked seeing the man who had tried to ruin your life and murder you over and over again be so utterly helpless. You looked at Jake to see him looking at you, silently asking for you to tell him what you wanted.

So, you said nothing. Nothing until Luke’s eyes rolled into the back of his head and he went entirely limp. Jake let go of him after you nodded and you almost laughed as you watched Luke’s face bounce on the pavement just as red and blue lights started to bleed across the street. You weren’t surprised someone had called the cops, maybe they’d do something worthwhile this time.

Jake reached out for you as the sirens grew louder and you happily set your hand in his before carefully pressing your lips to his. “Thank you,” you whispered.

“I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

By the time the paramedic had cleaned the thankfully shallow slash on Jake’s chest, Luke was being read his Miranda Rights and you had given your statement to the responding cops.

You watched Luke get shoved into the back of the cop car; one of the cops actually pushed his head down with a palm on the back of his neck like a disobedient puppy.

When Jake stepped in front of you and gently cradled your face, you sagged into his grip, all the remaining fight and tension bleeding out of you in a moment. “It’s done,” was all you could say.

“You finished it,” he said softly.

“We did. And I…” The words stalled on your tongue. “What happens now?”

Jake shook his head before pulling you close to press a kiss to your forehead, your temple, then your lips. “I don’t know, darlin’. But we’ll figure it out together.”

**

The dance was slow and easy, you and Jake simply swayed to the beat as other couples moved around you.

“How are you tonight, Mrs. Seresin?”

You laughed with a shake of your head. He called you that more than your name, more than “Punch,” more than anything else. It had been five years since you’d surprised all your friends and family at your Ugly Holiday Sweater Party that it was actually your wedding and he still didn’t get tired of calling you Mrs. Seresin. But you didn’t think you’d ever tire of hearing it, either. “I’m fine, Captain Seresin.”

His pleased smirk grew and he pulled you a little closer. Well, as close as your bump would allow. Just for a moment, he let go of your hip to smooth a hand over the silk of your gown stretched across your growing bump before resuming your dance.

Your fingers inched up his shoulder to push into the hair at the back of his head, ruining his carefully coiffed style. He was so handsome in his dress whites. The tinge of grey starting to grow at his temples only added to his enduring appeal—and he was all yours. “Your speech was wonderful,” you added with a smile.

He chuckled and shook his head, glancing at another dancing couple beside you. Bradley and Natasha were in their own bubble; it was to be expected at their wedding reception. But you did get a chuckle out of Natasha stealing her husband’s dress white’s hat and wearing it atop her carefully styled hair. To be fair, it did match her gown, too. Their son, welcomed two years ago with the help of a surrogate so both parents could keep flying up until they took their parental time off, was happily eating cake in Bob’s lap at a table in the corner. Bob’s wife was making a valiant effort to keep crumbs off Bob’s dress trousers while Pete kept a napkin beneath the toddler’s chin in an attempt to help. Today had been beautiful and perfect, exactly what you wanted for your best friends’ wedding.

“Thank you for looking it over for me.” He leaned down to brush his mouth against yours and you could feel his smile.

It had been a blissful five years. You may have been a bit of a naval cliche, getting married within a few months of really dating but it worked for you. You were happy. Getting out of the Navy allowed you more time to write. Your publisher was nearly ecstatic with the increase in productivity and offered you a new royalties deal. While it still wasn’t Stephen King money—and you knew you’d never reach that level—you were proud of it.

Jake had made sure the house he bought on the coast had an office for each of you and he happily helped you paint it a soft green that you swore helped you write. When you offhandedly mentioned that it reminded you of his eyes, he fucked you bent over the pricey cherry wood desk he’d bought for you after your latest book hit the best seller’s list. If your math was correct (it was), that was when your first child was conceived. Little Elsie came screaming into the world a few months later and immediately had Jake wrapped around her tiny fingers. She was currently being babysat (aka spoiled) by Grammy Sandy while you and Jake took the weekend for Bradley and Natasha’s wedding—you were a bridesmaid and Jake a groomsman, so you had quite a few things to take care of. The house was filled with pictures of quiet moments you cherished, like Elsie asleep on Jake’s chest a few weeks after she was born, and then more rambunctious moments, too, like the last Halloween party you attended where you were dressed as Ken and Jake was your Barbie. Apparently Jake looked good in everything, including hot pink. Pictures of the Daggers and their families were hung up beside pictures of Danny at his first lecture after earning his PhD and Georgie with her husband with her little boy on her hip. A picture of you and Jake surrounding Mia at her wedding a few months ago was on the mantle above the fireplace beside a picture of you and Lily with Sarah, Junior, and Taylor at Junior’s wedding, too.

Luke had been sent away for a few decades after pleading guilty to attempted murder and aggravated stalking. You doubted he would ever be a threat to you again but you and Jake had both been granted restraining orders against him, too. From what you had heard from the grapevine (Beau mentioned it in passing with a knowing smile), Luke’s father quietly retired from his position in the Navy before the trial and all of the relationships he had cultivated over the decades of his service crumbled when they’d learned of how he had paid for your silence. The ordeal had been exhausting and had left you reeling day after day when you needed to relive all of it while on the stand. But you had a support system. You had the Daggers, your siblings, the Kazanskys, your in-laws, and Jake. Your Ken. He never left your side.

“Is my son giving you any trouble tonight?” It was a recurring question since he learned you were pregnant again. Elsie had given you a few scares in utero and he wanted to make sure you were comfortable.

“He’s on his best behavior.”

“Good.” Jake stole another kiss and then you stole one right back.

It wasn’t always perfect. No relationship was. You still had to deal with deployments and growing pains that came with expanding your family, and the infrequent disagreements that arose. But it was good. It was worth fighting for. Jake had given you a home that could never be taken from you.

“I love you,” you whispered after he spun you under his arm.

“I love you more.”

A/N: that’s all she wrote, folks! thank you so much for going along on this ride with me. I hope you enjoyed Xx

[ivoryrebellionmess]

Spooky remorses IV

Part I Part 2 Part 3

Summary: You dated Jax for a year and a half, it was great. You fought sure, but that's a given if you´re both stubborn (and he's constantly in danger). Gemma didn't like the relationship, and she made sure that it ended. Now, months after the breakup, your friend takes you to a Halloween party that just happens to be SAMCRO´s.

warnings: 18+, mdni

A/N: I hope you like it, I´m so thankfull for every interaction with my posts. I love you guys so much <3

tw: foul language, kinda hooking up with your ex, jealous jax, smoking,a little bit of spice, alcohol, gemma being mean af

Word count: 5k

Staying alone in Jax´s room would only bring overthinking and second-guessing your presence there, so you decided to go search for a friendly face to distract you from every mistake you´d made in the last three hours.

The party was decaying fast, a few members still around drinking and chatting. You spotted Chibs sitting at the bar, and smiled to yourself, knowing he'd give you shit for…well, everything. 

Chibs looked up from his beer when you sat down next to him, brows raising in curiosity and mischief. But he said nothing, waiting for you to set the tone of the conversation.

So, with a defeated sigh, you did exactly that, ¨Go ahead, lay it on me¨. 

The scot laughed, but did not miss his chance. ¨Ya two were putting on quite the show out there, I thought you were gonna rip each other's clothes off on the spot¨.

You just laughed, what else was there to do?. ¨That bad huh?¨

The scot had a look in his eyes that could only be matched by a kid on Christmas morning, he had clearly missed having you around to give you a hard time. And he clearly had some more to add, ¨Oh, it was damn near pornographic. The way-¨

¨Oookay okay, i know i was there, remember?¨, he seemed pleased with himself watching your face redden under the dim lighting of the clubhouse. 

He turned a bit more serious, even if still wearing a shit-eating grin on his face. He hesitated before speaking again.

¨Seriously, though? I thought I was watching one of those cheesy movies you like. Next thing I know you´ll be confessin´your true love on a beach at night¨

You scoffed a laugh, but answered nothing. This was his way of telling you there was more than sexual tension there, and that he did not think it was a bad idea to pursue whatever else was brewing between you tonight. But of course Chibs liked you together, they all did, because you leveled Jax. When you dated he got into fewer fights, he didn't make reckless decisions, and he was in a better mood, which everyone thanked. The other side wasn't so pretty, knowing you'd always come second to his brothers, worrying about him whenever he was on a run, patching him up after, learning how to shoot and defend yourself `just in case`,...

Did you love him? Of course you did, that was the only reason you put up with it, until it became too much. You couldn't let yourself get dragged back into all of it. 

Jax was the kind of guy everyone wants to date: charming, hot, loving, all that mixed with the rush of the danger that came along with being a part of the club. Everyone doesn't know what it feels like, alone in your bed at 3 am, wondering if the cops got them, or the deal went wrong and they´re in a fight, or if he's dead on the side of the road. 

Chibs could almost hear your brain whirring and clicking, so he mentioned someone he knew you wouldn't resist talking about. ¨Gemma was about ready to explode¨.

You tried, and failed, not to laugh, ¨She burst in the room while I was cleaning Jax up¨.

Chibs matched your vibe instantly. No matter how much he loved Gemma, she'd been awful to you since day one, playing a main role in your breakup. So yeah, he´d relish a bit in her misery.

¨Wish I could've seen her face¨, he laughed, ¨What'd she say?¨.

You straightened your back, imitating her body language, ¨I'm his mother and I know what's best for him¨. A quick laugh flew from your throat before speaking again, in your own voice this time. ¨ You know, the usual¨.

A silly smile, a gentle one, invaded your face. Chibs just gave you your own time to say whatever caused it. And you did, in a lower voice, as if saying it aloud would make it not be real.

¨He actually stood up to her, he defended me¨, biting your lip, as much as you tried, did nothing to hide the stupid grin plastered on your face. And for the bare fucking minimum that is.

A look of respect crossed his face, eyebrows rising in surprise. Before saying anything else, he took a sip of his beer, letting the revelation sink in.

¨Did he now? That takes some serious balls¨. You nodded, looking down at your hands with that stupid lovesick look still on your face. 

Only then you realized, you´d been patching him up, he was beat and he´d need meds. ¨Hey you got some painkillers? big guns, he's messed up¨.

His stare got serious for a second, going over what he had. After a few seconds he dug in the inside pocket of his kutte and handed you a plastic bag with around ten pills inside. As he opened his mouth to give you the indications, you got up, interrupting him. 

¨Bed rest, no alcohol, what else doc?¨. You felt like a student again, eagerly answering questions about what should be done with patients. 

A smirk played on his lips, wanting to get back at you for cutting him off. ¨I wouldn't encourage any `physical activities´ tonight, let the boy rest¨. Once again, the familiarity of being in a situation you´d been in a dozen times before stirred something inside you.

It was comforting in a way, it felt like home. 

And, as so many times in the past, you promised it wouldn't happen. The difference was that you meant it. Chibs´s knowing look followed you, he sensed the tension that still lingered between the two of you. He also knew you were more than capable of handling Jax, which meant he could go to bed and not give a fuck. At least for tonight.

You made your way to the kitchen, grabbed a bottle of water and looked around for something to eat. You were tired and not in the mood for cooking, or a full meal, but Jax needed to eat something. He'd try to resist, he was awfully stubborn and he hated depending on people.

It was ironic really, he got himself into needing to be looked after. There was chocolate chip ice cream in the freezer, so after grabbing two spoons, you made your way back to Jax´s room. 

Chibs was no longer by the bar when you passed it, so you breathed deep and continued on your way. The shower was still running as you set the ice cream and water on the bedside table. It had been a long time, Jax was most likely standing there, letting the hot water soothe his aching muscles. Instead of disturbing him, you decided to lay on the bed. So you took off your shoes and closed your eyes, letting the humming of the shower relax you. 

After a good ten minutes the water stopped flowing, and shuffling sounds made their way to your ears.

Jax came out of the bathroom and stood on the doorway, honest surprise in his face at the sight in front of him. It had been a long time since you´d laid on his bed, especially so relaxed. 

Betting that he´d only be wearing a towel, you did not dare open your eyes, knowing the sight could be enough to send you into an early grave. His toned body wet, water dripping from his hair and beard onto his chest, down his abs, the towel low on his hips, a very visible happy trail,...

¨So you didn't fall down and drown¨, you simply stated.

Jax´s chuckle turned into a wince rather quickly, you furrowed your brows. You did not get a chance to ask how he was feeling when he retorted jokingly, ¨Managed to stay upright, darlin´, thanks for your concern¨

You felt it when he sat by your feet at the end of the bed, you also heard him groan. Finally opening your eyes, you offered some help. ¨Need a hand? Getting dressed?¨. The forming bruises on his back looked weirdly good, complimenting his tattoo.

Your question was met with silence as he glanced down at his body, probably trying to figure out a way to do it on his own.

There wasn't one, he was battered.

Jax chuckled wryly, admitting defeat. ¨My arms are sore and my ribs are killing me¨.

Of course he wouldn't admit to needing help, god he was like a kid sometimes. So you stood up and walked to his closet, hoping a little joke would make him feel better .

¨What are you feeling? casual chic? eleganza extravaganza? cocktail attire?¨. His dry laugh once again led to a wince, but his humour didn't falter, ¨I ain't´exactly feelin´up to a fashion show at the moment¨.

You shrugged, ¨As you like¨, grabbing grey sweatpants and a white shirt, ¨You ready?¨. He looked up at you when you made your way back to him, nodding slowly.

He took a deep breath as he sat straighter, ¨Ready as I´m gonna be¨. When he looked up at you, the vulnerability in his eyes got to your heart. You would've done anything to make him feel better, that had always been the issue. 

So you smiled at him, you couldn't help yourself. The cold nurse was long gone, you now were the girl that had fallen hard for him. ¨You´ve been worse, right? This is a walk in the park¨. Jax chuckled through the pain.

¨Been worse, I´ll give you that. A walk in the park might be an exaggeration¨, you caressed his shoulder as he kept talking, ¨I´m trying my best not to pass out and you´re here all smiles like you don't have a care in the world¨. 

¨You are what I care about right now¨. And before you could stop yourself, you were leaning in and pecking the side of his mouth. Sure, it wasn't a proper kiss, but still, what the fuck were you doing?.

Jax was clearly caught off guard, and when you stepped back a smile was tugging at the corner you´d just pecked.

¨You can't just go around doin´that¨, his voice was a bit hoarse, ¨I aint supposed to get excited right now, darlin´¨

The fact that he was joking was a good sign, but had nothing to do with the smile lingering on your face. ¨Okay, whatever, you know it wasn't like that¨, you laughed, handing him the sweatpants.

You kept on bossing him around as you made your way back to his closet, ¨Put those on and I´ll help you with the shirt¨, you looked over your shoulder at the bruise on his ribs and muttered under your breath, ¨That´ll be trickier¨.

You paid more attention to his groans than the clothes you were picking to change into, and decided he was fine. As fine as he could, given the circumstances. 

Jax finally managed to get the sweatpants over his hips, not missing a chance to rile you up when he noticed what you were doing. ¨You´re not stealing my clothes when I am on the verge of death, are you?¨.

The amusement in his voice made you smile, ¨Well I'm not sleeping like this¨, you vaguely gestured to your dress.

He loved the idea of you sleeping next to him, wearing his clothes. ¨You could always sleep naked¨. He spoke low enough that you had to make an effort to hear him, turning around to see his grin. And that may have been a bad move, a flash of the past crossing your mind…Jax, giving you that same grin, from between your thighs. 

Somehow you managed to answer casually, not letting your true feelings show, ¨You´re not supposed to get excited, remember?¨

¨´course I remember, it doesn't mean i can appreciate the view¨. Something more important than the banter between you came up, a pair of leggings. Not any pair, your favourite ones. The ones you haven't been able to find since the breakup. ¨They were here all this time?¨

Jax chuckled, knowing how much you loved them. ¨Found ´em a few months ago¨, the ghost of a smile danced on his face, ¨Looks like they found their way back to you¨

You bit your lip, pleased with your finding, and pulled out a zip-up hoodie, ¨I think this will be easier to put on¨

You walked up to him, ¨Okay let's go¨, and put his right arm through the sleeve. He didn't complain, so you did the other one. ¨Want me to zip it up?¨.

Jax just nodded, breathing through the pain in his ribs. 

When you were done, you opened his side of the bed, ¨Get in, I´ll be right back¨

You watched as he slowly laid down, playfully pouting at you. ¨You really gonna leave me all alone?¨

You hummed, ¨Yeah, give you some time to think about what you did¨. You heard his chuckle as you went in the bathroom and closed the door.

You changed into your leggings and the shirt you´d originally gotten for him and looked in the mirror. You honestly looked way better than you expected, so you washed your face and took the fangs off. 

Jax looked up when he heard the doorknob twisted, and he had to stop himself from smiling when he saw you. His heart ached to have you back in his life. He nodded at the space next to him and you made your way over, grabbing the ice cream on the way. He didn't need to hear it to know you wanted him to eat something, even if he did not feel like it, so he took that to his advantage. He grabbed the ice cream and patted the bed next to him. ¨I´ll eat if you lay down with me¨

You both knew you couldn't say no to him, so why even try? You sat next to him, handing Jax one of the spoons and burying your own on the ice cream tub. He kissed your temple, ¨Thanks for taking care of me, I know I can be stubborn¨.

Finally you accepted it , you were in too deep, and you didn't care. Maybe tomorrow morning you would, you'd regret everything. ¨You really are insufferable, baby¨.

Both of your hearts jumped at the pet name, yet decided to play it nonchalant, focusing on the ice cream. 

¨I aint that bad, just a little stubborn is all¨. His playful look was met with your incredulous one, ¨A bit-?¨.

He laughed, knowing he was an absolute ass at times, ¨Dont lie, you love it¨.

Shaking your head at his smugness, you handed him two pills.  ¨Please, knock yourself out¨.

A little while after taking them, Jax felt the pain starting to dull and his head getting drowsy. Still, he tried to stay awake, to enjoy five more minutes of your company. Even if that was just laying next to you while you ate the whole ice cream. 

¨You really think I´m that bad, huh?¨. He mumbled, a smile on his face.

You placed the empty container on the bedside table and laid on your side, looking at him. ¨Not at all¨, your voice was barely above a whisper.  

Jax´s eyelids were heavy, the meds really starting to work, you could tell he was making an effort to keep his eyes from closing. 

¨I'd hate to have you think I am an insufferable ass¨.

You´d already fucked up by ending in his bed, so what was another tiny mistake? You leaned in and softly kissed him, whispering against his lips. ¨Well yeah, but you´re my insufferable ass¨.

His heart skipped a beat, he gently kissed you, one of his hands softly grazing your hip. ¨Damn you¨. What he wanted to damn, more than you, was the effect you still had on him.

You bumped your nose against his, teasing him. ¨Nice thing to say after I took care of you¨.

He snorted, now laying on his back. ¨You know what I mean¨, he gave you a lazy smile, ¨Not fair, kissin´me when I'm high and can't do nothin´about it¨.

He looked relaxed from the side, you could tell he was almost asleep, ¨You got bigger things to worry about¨.

The ever-present smirk on his face did not falter, ¨Do I now, like what?¨.

God, how he managed to still be so cocky you would never understand. You were a close second though, only giving him a pointed look for an answer. And he knew what you meant, of course he did, but how could he not tease you a little?

He put the best innocent facade he could muster before side eyeing you, ¨You´re gonna have to be a little more specific, darlin´¨ .

You just laughed under your breath, ¨What a fucking ass¨.

He was a sucker for you, living for moments like these, living for you. ¨Aren't you supposed to be nursing me back to health?¨, you were scooting closer before you knew it, ¨And here I thought you were doing it because you care about me or somethin´¨.

¨Oh my god how long do these meds take to work¨, you playfully teased, ¨there are no laws against insulting you while I heal you, baby¨.

¨You´re a real piece of work, y´know that?¨, he was slurring, the pills finally getting to him. 

You just shushed him, caressing his face, ¨Sleep now¨.

Jax could barely fight it, but he found the strength to ask you one last thing. ¨You´re not gonna disappear on me while I sleep, are you?¨.

You didn't let yourself think about it for too long before reassuring him that you'd stay. He finally fell into a deep, medicated sleep. When the stress was finally gone, you realized how tired you actually felt. It did not take long for you to close your eyes and drift off next to him.

About six hours later, a pair of blue eyes slowly opened under furrowed brows. The first thing Jax had felt when consciousness returned to him had been pain. It wouldve been very romantic that you were the first thing on his mind, sure, but that´s just not how life works sometimes. 

The ribs on his left side, his fists, the back of his head, it was as if every single part of him was hurting.

Your stirring finally reminded him of…well, everything that had happened. Its not that he didnt remember what had happened, but considering he hit his head Jax just assumed it had been a dream. 

It hadnt though.

You looked peaceful, the ghost of a smile gracing your lips. You´d looked beautiful last night, but this was better. No worry lines on your face, no furrowed brows, just a smile. 

Cute as this moment was, his body had other plans. Jax slowly sat up, trying not to wake you. It was hard, even through his gritted theet, he could not help but groan. 

You rubbed your eyes, barely able to get words out of yourself. ¨Hey, hey, hey dont move¨.

All his feelings of gratitude and desire to prove he was a better man were quickly overrun by annoyance at his own aching body, ¨I know¨, his back was facing you. 

¨But I gotta piss¨. His voice was rough and a little aggressive, you just sighed and laid back on the bed.

The blond may not have evolved, but you sure had. You matched his passive aggression and just stayed there, eyes closed, pretending to sleep. Some time ago, you´d have force fed him painkillers and treated him carefully, but that wasnt you anymore. Not the sober you anyways.

So, after a couple tries, he had no choice but to ask for your assistance. ¨Help me up?¨. A few second of deafening silence. ¨Please¨

Your lips stil sealed and half asleep, you went to his side and let him use you as a crouch. Jax heavily leaned on you, trying hard to keep silent. Determined to pretend he was fine. 

There was a flaw on his plan, he needed your help to make it to the bathroom.

Based on experience this was just his body warming up, after a little movement he´d be all right on his own. Almost.

¨Feels like a truck run me over¨, he tried to joke. His shitty morning attitude had bothered you so you kept quiet. 

That was until you were halfway to the bathroom and all of his weight was on you, risking his mood worsening, you asked. ¨Want me to get one of the boys?¨

That struck a nerve, someone seeing him weak? No way. He tensed up and stopped walking. 

¨I can do it myself¨, you could barely hear him through his gritted teeth. 

Fearing your reaction if you pushed it, you scoffed and urged him to keep moving. He played it tough, stubborn as he was. Anyone couldve been able to tell that he was in a lot of pain.

Jax looked at your face for the first time when he leaned on the doorframe, his voice was soft when he spoke, even if his words were not. ¨I can take it from here¨.

Raising your hands in surrender, you took a step back. Your voice was cold when you said he had more pills on the bedside table.

You left, mad at him, mad at you. Mad. Just plain mad. 

The biker grunted, closing the door and leaning on the sink, knowing had pissed you off. He did look like shit, pale skin and tired eyes. Jax cursed under his breath, he couldnt bear the thought of anyone seeing him like this, not even you. 

Especially not you.

That´s something you´d never been truly quite grasped. It wasnt so much a macho thing, not with you. When it came to you, it wasnt about bravado. It was about making someone he loved suffer, the hurt in your eyes when they went over his bruises, … A hurt he did not know how to comfort. 

You made your way to the kitchen, expecting it to be empty. If the beginning of the morning had been bad, what would come after was way worse. Gemma was sitting down having a coffee, and you couldn´t stop the groan that crossed your lips.

Gemma smiled slyly, the battle you´d won the prior night fresh in her mind. Fake sweetness laces her voice as you made your way to the coffee maker, ¨Well, well, look who it is¨.

¨Yeah, yeah¨. You didnt even bother wasting energy on her, knowing you´d need it with her hot headed son. 

She sipped her coffee as you put sugar on your own. Her sharp eyes studied your every move, looking for the perfect way to get under your skin, to gather the information she needed. 

If you hadnt known her, you´d have thought the concern in her voice was sincere. 

¨You look tired, sweetheart¨.

Again, no fight in you, everything about you was neutral, even your tone. ¨He just woke up¨, you dryly added.

She wanted to know what had happened, where your relationship stood. You wanted to erase the past night from your brain. 

Gemma´s eyes gleamed as she sensed the tension coming off of you. There was no doubt as far as whose fault that was.

¨And how is he?¨. You sat up on the counter, leaning your head back against the cabinets. ¨You know how he is¨.

 She just smirked, sipping from her mug. ¨Stubborn as a damn mule¨.

Silently, you nodded. Eyes closed, head thrown back, you almost felt calm. Almost. The matriarch studied you quietly. If your eyes had been open you would have seen something close to pride on them. Gemma herself had never been able to pinpoint what exactly she disliked about you. Because it was not you . Your personality, she liked, you were fiery. You could handle her son and you perfectly managed with the rest of the men of the club. Had she been honest with herself, you were too good for this life, it dimmed your light. She had seen you around town with your friends, you looked happier when you didnt have a criminal to worry about constantly.

She rested her forearms on the table, cocking her head as she spoke. ¨Can I ask you something?¨.

There was no spite in her words, and her face seemed softer than you could remember ever seeing it.

For a second you played with the idea of her liking you, being there for you when Jax was being an immature jerk or putting himself in danger. You quickly dismissed it, it wouldnt do you any good to dwell on that. 

You sounded almost playful when you answered, ¨I have a feeling youre gonna ask anyways¨.

She chuckled, you both knew each other all too well to be playing this game. ¨Why are you back?¨.

Once again, no bite behind her question, just plain curiosity. You straightened your position on the counter so you could have a proper conversation. ¨Whats your point?¨. No bite didnt mean you were friends of course, you were still weary.

¨Jax´s better off without you¨, she did not seem as sure of this statement as a few seconds before. Your brows furrowed, defending her son was a pivotal point of Gemma. ¨You two arent good for each other…¨.

It felt like she was holding something back, yet you couldnt figure out what it could possibly be. Gemma´s voice was soft when she finished her sentence, ¨…he makes you into something you´re not¨.

She quickly went back to her usual demeanour, leaning back on her chair, ¨You know it and so do I¨.

It somehow felt like you were walking into something, but not a trap, not exactly. You moved from your spot on the counter to a chair in front of Gemma, and took a sip of coffee before giving into whatever was happening. 

¨What´s that supposed to mean? He makes me into something I´m not?¨. You knew, you agreed, and your eyes reflected it.

But this could not be played as a bonding moment between the two of you, neither of you were ready to navigate that type of relationship. 

¨My boy turns you into a mess, all upset and emotional¨, she eyed your face up and down, ¨exhausted¨. 

Well, yeah, you were stressing over Jax, you´d done that for the whole time you´d dated. What else were you supposed to do when your boyfriend was VP of a literal gang? You worry, that's what you do.

On the other hand, she was right and you couldnt deny it. He turned you into an unstable version of yourself, a not-so-cheery you, … No one could deny that after the initial shock when the breakup happened, you´d had a glow up. It wasnt something physicall, it was all of you. You were relaxed, you were happier. Even if you missed Jax and the bad days felt like absolute shit. If you were honest with youself, that was normal after losing someone important in your life, not a sign that you truly wanted to get back with him.

Gemma could see the turmoil of doubt in your eyes, and maye a little bit of her in you? Getting pregnant had played an important part on her staying with her first husband but what wouldve happened if she hadn´t? And what would happen to you if you stayed? She knew how the club corrupted everyone it touched, and you had managed to escape that once.  Would you be lucky enough to do it twice?

She got up and, before leaving, she added, ¨You already spend your days nursing people back to health¨. You didnt need to be doing it as an extracurricular activity too…

Alone in the kitchen, you finished your coffee, a million thoughts racing in your head. It got too much and you needed space from anything to do with the club. Rushing to the room, you mentally checked where you had left your clothes and purse the night before. 

The room was not empty, he was in the bed. It didnt take long to notice he was asleep. Thank god. 

The pills were nowhere to be seen, so he would not wake up. You hopped in the shower, the hot water numbing your thoughts. Alone in the bathroom, Gemma´s words resonated with you. You forcefully tried to stop that train of thought when your heart started to beat faster and faster. 

Somewhere deeep inside you, you wanted to push Jax away, to protect yourself. He still had a grip on your heart, but that only meant he could still hurt you. What had ahppened last night after all? What had happened this morning?

You dry yourself and put your leggings back on, the shirt still smells like Jax when it goes over your head. You pretend it doesn´t affect you. You grab a gym bag from Jax´s closet and put all of your things inside it.

The tought that leaving with so much of his stuff would probably mean at least another call does cross your mind. You quickly banish it as you put on your heels, not having another shoe option. 

Jax looks innocent when he´s sleeping, no tension on his face, you place a kiss on his cheek. A goodbye? You did not know. 

You chuckle when you look at your outfit on the mirror, the true definition of a walk of shame.

Breathing deeply, you look at him one last time, and walk out. On your way to look for a taxi, you come across Gemma.

No words are exanged, but your eyes are enough. For both of you. It was never about hatred. 

Anxiety swarms your mind as you exit the Sons´ property, would you ever be sure that this had been the right decision? 

[buff-muffin]

Random little One piece modern AU thoughts and I guess scenes I had about mainly Luffy

1. Luffy is the best guy to take to karaoke. While he isn’t the best singer he’s also not the worst. However he sings with his whole chest and heart and will sing duets with anyone no matter how lovey or metal. His energy always brought everyone out of their shells he just has a bad habit of singing when it’s not his turn

2. I feel like in a modern AU Luffy would still be friends with a lot of the people he met in series just under different conditions. Like water 7 instead of the mayor almost being assassinated he just. Met him. Like on good terms. idk, maybe Luffy saved tyrannosaurus and now they just exchange animals pics and the occasional “hey I’m heading to insert place where should I go to eat” and Luffy just introduces the Baratie with no heads up to Zeff and Sanji and when Sanji spams the group chat freaking out he just says you’re welcome :D

3. Luffy keeps the contacts of everyone he’s met and keep them under their nicknames. Monster granny, hammock, split head ect. It’s the only way he can remember them after all. When nami had gotten nosy and decided to go through his contacts she obviously asked who tf ice pops was. Imagine her surprise when Luffy confidently answers that it’s the mayor from a few towns over.

4. In a modern AU the ASL brothers were totally still bush kids. Like. Dadan’s (probably community house) was right by the woods and they would have a similar childhood to canon with less killing wild animals. But they also a thousand fucking percent had a Nintendo Wii. Like Ace and Sabo fought tooth and NAIL for player one and Luffy was banished to player three with the dingiest controller known to man (not even the safety strap could protect that thing from getting tossed at the tv) And speaking from my own experience as a younger sibling Ace totally spent a whole summer trying to unlock every character in Mario kart.

5. Law met the straw hats in collage at 2 am when they got kicked out of a bar and he was trying to mind his own business. While they saw him in their intoxicated state and said “you’re my friend now :)” Law was genuinely worried half of them had alcohol poisoning. An hour later he found himself in one of their apartments two of them passed out. One of them throwing up. All while he makes a grilled cheese for Luffy, the so called infamous man on campus who is crying sitting on the floor cause he’s starving. Law stayed the night to make sure none of them drowned in their own vomit and like imprinted baby ducks they have not left him alone since.

6. Luffy has been going to riots and movements for years. He started going with Sabo and Ace growing up when they were teenagers and hasn’t stopped. He also never thought to mention it to any of his friends until they saw him on the news at a protest absolutely fucking SENDING a tear gas canister back at the cops

7. I kinda wanna believe while devil fruits don’t exist in modern AU the character still has quirks semi related to their fruit. Like Robin is just, double jointed everywhere and could bend her arms and fingers in all the worst ways. Luffy can either contort his body to hide in tiny places OR he has stretchy skin. It’s nothing more then party tricks but it is cool

8. Luffy was definitely a gymnastics kid. Not in like. The competing sense. But in like the, one of the adults in his life would drop him off there twice a week for an hour. Did he participate with the other children and learn how to roll? NO! He was flinging himself full speed into giant foam mats and climbing rock walls without a harness. He was a menace to society and he was only taken to blow off some energy and it WORKED. Until he was kicked out.

[nophunleague]

stare decisis: chapter three - ira

ira: latin for annoyance

masterlist

wc: 951

rafael barba x original female character

“I told you this wasn’t going to end well,” Quinn boasts in a sing-songy tone as Barba enters the shared reception between their offices. She’s sitting in a chair across from Carmen’s desk; almost like she was waiting for him to come into work today. She sips her coffee smugly, smirking as he stops in his tracks. 

“Morning Miss Brady. Smug are we today?” he sighs and opens the door to his office, she follows him in.

“Only proportionally to what is warranted.”

“You seemed to be worried about rights violations while we were acting in our official capacities; Amaro was arrested off duty so I’m not sure this act is proportionally warranted,” he says as he sets his briefcase down on his desk. She stalls for only a split second then speaks again.

“It wouldn’t have gone that far if they would have stopped pursuing the case when you told them to,” he rolls his eyes.

“You haven’t been here long enough to make that call. Amaro always ends up in trouble; one way or another,” she already knows that Amaro is not Barba’s favorite person so she largely brushes the comment off. 

“I heard IAB already pulled him in and started an investigation. As reckless and stupid as what he did was, I would hate to see a good cop ruin his career over a creep like Simon Wilkes,” she stares into her coffee mug, her reflection shown in the dark liquid. 

“Tucker has never been his biggest fan so I think he’ll at least take a hit on his jacket for this,” Barba admits as he pulls case files from the briefcase on his desk, eager to get to work. 

“Well that sucks. I’ve got first appearances today so I’ll see you later,” she says to him before slipping off to court for the foreseeable future. 

***

Finally leaving the courtroom after hours and hours of first appearances, Quinn makes her way back to her office when she’s stopped by her name being called out behind her.

“Miss Brady! Miss Brady,” she turns around to see a tall and slender man with short but graying hair. Cop, she thinks to herself. 

“That’s me. And you are?” she asks, he pulls out his credentials and flashes his shield. She recognizes the name from her conversation with Barba this morning. 

“Ed Tucker, Internal Affairs Bureau. I’m here about-” she cuts him off.

“Nick Amaro,” he nods but says nothing else.

“Are you going to ask me a question or just stand there and look stupid?” he almost takes a step back at her tone, she stares him down. 

“My office is under the impression that you staunchly opposed the SVU squad’s continued investigation into the Wilkes case. Is that true?” he pulls out a pen and notepad as he asks; she thinks for a moment. 

“I opposed my colleagues in the Special Victims Unit acting in their official capacities to investigate an obviously disturbed individual.”

“In their official capacities?” he asks, trying to copy down every word she says.

“Yes, but what they do on their own time is not my business,” she explains, adjusting the strap of her tote bag on her shoulder. 

“So you have no opinion on what Detective Amaro did to Mr. Wilkes?” she can sense he’s getting annoyed with her answers.

“I do not,” a small smirk twitches at her lips. “If that’s all Mr. Tucker, I haven’t eaten lunch yet and it’s oh, well, three o’clock. Have a great day,” she glances at her watch and begins to walk away. 

“They fought awful hard to not lead me to you. There’s something more, I’m sure of it,” he calls out from behind her; she keeps walking. 

Olivia is in Barba’s office when Quinn returns from first appearances and her first run in with Tucker. She’s only really returned to the office to grab her wallet before she slips out for a late lunch. 

In Barba’s office she can faintly overhear a charged conversation. “Rafa, if Nick is going to have a chance at getting back on the squad, she’s got to stay away from Tucker,” she hears Olivia plead to Rafael. 

“She’s never met him, so I don’t know how you expect her to stay away from him,” she hears him respond. Grabbing her wallet from her desk drawer she decides to peak into his office as she steps out. 

“I’d really hate to butt into a conversation that doesn’t involve me; but oh wait, this one does,” she speaks and she pushes his office door open, their eyes widening as they realize she’s back. Barba springs to his feet, Olivia merely turns around to face her. 

“Sergeant Benson was merely expressing her frustration with the IAB investigation into Detective Amaro,” he explains. 

“No need to cover it up, I heard. It just so happens that Tucker tracked me down on my way back up here. We had a little chat,” she crosses her arms across her chest as she leans against the door frame, her slender arm saved from the cool metal of the frame by the sleeve of her blazer.

“Well I certainly hope you didn’t contribute to ruining a good cop’s career?” Liv stares the attorney down, not letting up on her position that Quinn should not be involved in the investigation. 

“We’ll have to wait and see,” Quinn doesn’t let up either. Even though she knows she didn’t help or hurt Amaro’s case, she knows the squad still doesn’t like her so whatever she says isn’t going to help in building the relationship with them. “I’ve had a long day. Barba I’m stepping out for lunch. Good to see you Sergeant.”

[papercutsunset]

what ain't gone is going

Clocking in (LOL) at 985 words, I've got a little piece about Aline October hanging out in Harlow's car for @flashfictionfridayofficial that I finished ON TIME. There's some stuff in here about an eighteen year old being super dead because of being shot and burned to death, because that's what Aline's deal is, so that's kind of the warning there; otherwise, I don't have much else. And it's RELEVANT because it's about Project Clockshift and about clock parts. Also about being dead. But whatever, she's just always dead anyway. There are ZERO real clocks here.

I researched clocks for this. Definitely compared Aline to Galileo on purpose. And then I got back into folk music. The title's a line from "Enough About Hard Times" by Caitlin Canty. And now I have to sleep because it's my 22nd birthday and I meant to be in bed two hours ago.

If anyone is going to figure out how to lay in the backseat of a car while being incorporeal, it’s going to be Aline October. She’s determined. With all this metal framing, there has to be a way. This ghost can’t keep making do.  

Not that she likes being a ghost. As if she could fix it. Yeah, right. Bringing back the dead is more than possible, but nobody here is doing it. She’ll focus on looking over the blueprints in Harlow’s messy-ass car and ways to improve them. Did he ever put those clicks and rivets in the box to attach to the prototype she had already been working on with him? Did he write down her idea about the potential potency of mixing the Avatars’ fluids into the clock oil and how it would affect backward- or forward-in-time movements? Did he consider quartz? And was he going to let her build her verge escapements into the central mechanism when they got home? 

Obviously, something happened after she suggested those things and shoved the blueprints in the backseat where she’d been lounging out with her rifle. Two someones kind of died. She was the one with the verge escapement implementation know-how anyway. Harlow’s a genius, but he let Aline October work on his project for a reason. 

He’ll have to make do now. 

At this point, there isn’t much else to do but blame herself. She could have fought Harlow harder instead of accepting that Wrench was bleeding out. She could have died in a blaze of glory. She could have stayed home and made a clock that you shit in, but there she was, with cops firing at her and the knowledge that she was going to die no matter what. It was written from the moment she was born. Strength’s Domain is a death sentence; that’s why the three of them needed to fix it. She needed to grit her teeth; press her toes into the gas; grip the wheel like it would keep her from remembering the rifle between her legs and that Wrench was too messed up to use it; throw the van in the other direction; go, get out of there while Wrench fired from his shotgun seat. And Wrench was trying, wasn't he? Good sport. Grit his teeth through the pain and her whirlwind of motion. Always a good fucking sport. Handed her his namesake in the workshop when they were working on PROJECT CLOCKSHIFT before Harlow told either of them what it was. As if the name didn’t make it obvious when she outed it; as if he didn’t ask her to work on the mechanics; as if Aline October wasn’t the best set of hands in their stupid fucking town and everyone knew it. 

Clockshift. Turn time back; prevent all of it. No burning flesh in the distance; no burning flesh on her. Here she is, right? Glass from the windshield sliced up her arms, hip and femur cracked from the impact, bullet holes in a dalmatian pattern across her torso, left side of her body smoldering in her pushed-up sunglasses and lab coat, eternally eighteen. She catches herself in the rearview mirror and doesn’t hate it. 

Past the dashboard, Harlow heaves the hood of the car, billowing smoke on the side of this overgrown old asphalt. No matter where you go, she smiles, the infrastructure sucks. The Avatars don’t care about the roads. 

She hopes he doesn’t blame himself for what happened to the two of them. Those hopes are as jagged and terrified as a click gear— and she can dig them into her skin, but they won’t take hold. Does he know, she wonders? Does he know he gave her the only funeral she cared about? Does he know she mustered everything within her to throw her sunglasses into the backseat of his car? Does he remember that burning everything down for the spectacle— all eyes on us— was her idea in the first place? 

Could she grab him by the collar as the days pass, as she loses herself in the monotony of being and being unseen, of giant birds running around the track, of time moving on and on and on as the blueprints get abandoned in the space under the driver’s seat? Could she tell him to get it together and own his shit? 

He thrusts his fists against imaginary posts, using his headlights as a rubber duck for his broken-down car. She knows she could fix the engine if she were here. 

With a soft groan, she assures herself she’ll figure out this whole haunting thing and mentally calculates the width of the frame on the machine. He didn’t ask her to refine the design at all, but she did. It’s going to be better for it, even if she and Wrench aren’t around to help. The work has to continue. Someone has to paradox and prevent this apocalypse they live in. If Harlow’s Galileo and Kronk are gone, then someone has to nudge him toward more finely-tuned verge escapements and away from the battery-acid-energy-drinks he’s been guzzling nonstop. 

Maybe she’ll find out. Sure as shit, though, she’s not going to mope around while she follows him to wherever the hell he’s going. 

She’s still Aline October. The tombstone her father made tacked his surname on there, too, like he’d ever been as important to her as her mother. That didn’t mean it was true. She’d never gone by Aline Saturnina Aritza October in her life. Crying like he actually missed her— they both know he didn’t. Aline and Wrench as remembered by Harlowis closer to the truth. 

She’ll snap back to her body when the government’s reconstruction makes her heart beat again. For now, she’s here. Thanks, throwing-sunglasses-in-someone’s-backseat. It’s an invaluable skill. 

She leans down and reads the blueprints again. PROJECT CLOCKSHIFT. What a thing to die for. 

[justforbooks]

The film director William Friedkin, who has died aged 87, was slightly older than the “movie brats” group (Steven Spielberg, Martin Scorsese and so on) credited with revolutionising US cinema in the late 1960s and early 70s.

Like Robert Altman and Sidney Lumet, Friedkin had come to cinema through TV and documentary, but made a vital contribution to the American new wave. His double-whammy in the first half of the 1970s, The French Connection (1971) and The Exorcist (1973), met with critical acclaim and a level of box-office success that elevated them into pop-culture phenomena. They also managed to overshadow everything else he did.

Nevertheless it would be wrong to characterise his career as a rise and fall. His finest hour was arguably the 1985 cop-and-counterfeiters thriller To Live and Die in LA, while he scored a modest triumph late in the day with his 2011 adaptation of Tracy Letts’s southern-fried noir play Killer Joe. But his steady hand, his timing and his commercial savvy were evident in those early hits. The French Connection, with its preference for hand-held, vérité-style camerawork and on-the-hoof sound recording, sometimes at the expense of intelligibility, took the American policier to a level of authenticity and grittiness to which the genre still aspires today.

Friedkin was never shy of owning up to his mistakes; his 2013 memoir, The Friedkin Connection, opens with an account of various regrettable errors, including passing up the chance to buy an ownership stake in Mike Tyson and throwing away some sketches by the then-unknown artist Jean-Michel Basquiat. To these can be added his reluctance to cast Gene Hackman as The French Connection’s dishevelled antihero, “Popeye” Doyle.

Actor and director fought regularly. “His outbursts [onscreen] were aimed directly at me … more than the drug smugglers.” Among the film’s five Academy Awards was a best actor prize for Hackman’s snarling performance, and one for Friedkin as best director.

The Exorcist followed Roman Polanski’s Rosemary’s Baby (1968) in bestowing upon the modern horror movie a new sheen of class and respectability. Friedkin integrated serious themes with extreme gore and intense terror, but rejected the idea that The Exorcist belonged to the horror genre. “I think it deals with issues far more profound than what you find in the average horror film. To be frank with you, Bill [the writer William Peter Blatty] and I never set out to make a horror film. The idea never crossed our minds. To me, The Exorcist was a story about the mystery of faith, and I tried to depict that as realistically as possible.”

His parents and grandparents had fled Kiev (Kyiv) in the early 1900s, making the passage to the US by hiding on freighter ships. William was born and raised in Chicago, the son of Rachel (nee Green), who gave up her job as an operating-room nurse when he was born, and Louis, a former semi-professional softball player turned cigar maker and men’s clothing salesman. Friedkin characterised his own adolescence as one of frustration and thwarted dreams: “From an early age, my ambitions overwhelmed my abilities,” he wrote. “It’s a miracle I didn’t end up in jail or on the streets.”

He graduated from Senn high school in 1953 and got a job in the post-room of a local Chicago television station, WGN-TV. He worked his way up through various positions, acting as floor manager on several hundred shows before a vacancy opened for a director of live drama.

But it was a cinematic experience around the same time that proved formative. One afternoon in the early 60s, Friedkin went to see Orson Welles’s Citizen Kane for the first time, entering the cinema at noon and not leaving until late that evening, having watched the movie five times back-to-back: “No film I’ve seen before or since meant so much to me. I thought, ‘Whatever that is, that’s what I want to do…’ On that Saturday, just three years younger than Welles when he created Kane, I resolved to become a film-maker.”

In 1962, he made The People vs Paul Crump, an award-winning documentary about a man on death row, and also directed an episode of The Alfred Hitchcock Hour, before knocking out four features: Good Times (1965), a vehicle for the musical duo Sonny & Cher; the comedy The Night They Raided Minsky’s and an intermittently electrifying screen version of Harold Pinter’s The Birthday Party (both 1968); and another theatre adaptation, The Boys in the Band (1970), about a group of gay friends.

In his 1998 book Easy Riders, Raging Bulls, the film historian Peter Biskind wrote that on the basis of those last two films, Friedkin had acquired a “reputation for being an art film director, the kiss of death. He was depressed, afraid he would never work again.”

Salvation came in the shape of a screenplay adapted from a factual bestseller about the NYPD’s campaign to smash a drug ring. Friedkin brought an unprecedented level of realism to The French Connection. A key sequence, thrillingly executed by Friedkin, features a seven-minute chase through Brooklyn, with Popeye (in a stolen car) trying to outrun and intercept his quarry, who has hijacked the train speeding along the elevated track above him.

Friedkin was not bashful about his Oscar win: Biskind reported that the director had his chair on the set of The Exorcist emblazoned with the words “An Oscar for The French Connection”. His behaviour had also become harsher and unrulier, even if there was usually a method to his madness (such as slapping a real priest, who had been hired to play an absolution scene, in order to produce the required nervous energy).

The Exorcist was a calculating combination of the portentous and the shrill, mixing highfalutin religious inquiry with brazenly shocking scenes showing Regan (played by the 13-year-old Linda Blair) masturbating with a crucifix, growling obscenities and projectile vomiting. Friedkin’s grasp of tone was sure, though the movie sometimes seemed to be in denial about its own carnivalesque tactics.

These two defining peaks of Friedkin’s career were followed in 1977 by his most conspicuous commercial flop: Sorcerer, a thriller about four men driving a combustible cargo of dynamite through the rainforest. It was based on the same source material as Henri-Georges Clouzot’s masterpiece The Wages of Fear, and while not in the same league it was nonetheless undeserving of its box-office fate.

Various factors were blamed, ranging from Friedkin’s hubris to a release date adjacent to Star Wars. It would not be until a remastered print of Sorcerer was screened at the Venice film festival in 2013 that it would begin to lose its unwarranted taint of failure. He insisted it was the work of his which remained closest to his original vision: “The way I saw the film in my mind’s eye, that is the one that’s pretty much there.”

His usual bluster was absent from his next film, the low-key comedy-thriller The Brink’s Job (1978), a dramatisation of the $3m Brink’s robbery in Boston, which Friedkin made when his proposed film of Born on the Fourth of July (later shot by Oliver Stone) fell through.

The mixture of sensational subject matter and po-faced tone that had served him so well on The Exorcist did not prove so successful with Cruising (1980), a lurid and occasionally objectionable thriller starring Al Pacino as a cop who goes undercover in the gay S&M subculture to catch a murderer.

An early draft of the script had been leaked, prompting an onslaught of objections from the gay press, and by the time the film emerged heavily trimmed by the censor’s scissors, it was something of a tarnished cause célèbre. Though Cruising is more complex and conflicted than some of its detractors would allow, it looks unlikely to undergo the same critical rehabilitation as Sorcerer.

To Live and Die in LA showed that not only had Friedkin’s French Connection-era knack for dynamic action sequences not deserted him, but he could combine it with a slicker, stylised aesthetic. The rest of the 80s, however, was not a fertile time for him. He made Deal of the Century (1983), a listless comedy about the arms race, the TV movie C.A.T. Squad (1986) and the thriller Rampage (1987), which he adapted himself from William P Wood’s book.

The Guardian (1990) returned him to the horror genre. Blue Chips (1994), a drama about the politics of college basketball, was subtle and powerful, with an uncompromising lead performance by Nick Nolte, but it foundered commercially (it went straight to video in the UK). The thriller Jade (1995) earned some notoriety when its extravagantly paid screenwriter Joe Eszterhas complained of the changes made to his script; Friedkin, who was responsible for the rewrites, later named it as his favourite of his own movies.

Rules of Engagement (2000) was a mediocre drama with reactionary overtones, about a court-martial following the massacre of civilians in Yemen. The star of that film, Tommy Lee Jones, was reunited with the director in another thriller, The Hunted (2003). But Friedkin found new momentum of sorts in two adaptations of claustrophobic thrillers by Letts – Bug (2006) and Killer Joe.

In 2013, he returned to Pinter’s The Birthday Party, directing the play for the stage in Los Angeles, with Tim Roth and Steven Berkoff among the cast. However, this was postponed at the 11th hour when Friedkin decided to replace Berkoff in the part of the intimidating inquisitor Goldberg (though Berkoff claimed to have resigned). The production did not find a replacement and was never staged.

In 2018, he was the subject of Friedkin Uncut, which combed through his career and featured interviews with collaborators, celebrity fans and the director himself, who is heard confirming that he only ever asks for one or two takes: “I’m not looking for perfection,” he says.

His final films were The Devil and Father Amorth (2017), a documentary about a real-life exorcist, and The Caine Mutiny Court-Martial (2023), an updated adaptation of the Herman Wouk novel first filmed in 1954, starring Kiefer Sutherland. It will premiere next month at the Venice film festival, where the director was honoured in 2013 with a lifetime achievement award.

Friedkin’s reputation as bullish extended to all areas of his life and work. As an interviewee he was comically blunt. Responding to an Independent journalist who complained that the prologue to The Exorcist was baffling, he said: “I don’t have to explain it. You’re free to think of it, or to dismiss it, in any way that you want. It’s called mystery … Jackie Collins writes crisp narrative. I suggest you read all of her books. You will never be in doubt about where the story is going.”

And he rebuffed a Guardian reporter’s suggestion that he subscribed to the auteur theory, which prizes the director as the ultimate author of a film: “Didn’t you hear what I said? Am I talking to deaf ears? No! No! ... The auteur theory is a load of bollocks!”

His first three marriages ended in divorce: that to the actor Jeanne Moreau lasted from 1977 to 1979; that to another actor, Lesley-Anne Down, from 1982 to 1985; and that to the journalist Kelly Lange from 1987 to 1990. The following year he married the former chief executive of Paramount, Sherry Lansing.

She survives him, along with a son, Cedric, from a relationship with Jennifer Nairn-Smith, and a son, Jack (Jackson), from his second marriage.

🔔 William Friedkin, film director, producer and screenwriter, born 29 August 1935; died 7 August 2023

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at Just for Books…?

[nolanhollogay]

good night kisses + jjedgar!

sweeties<3

+

Edgar's mom was on the porch as he and JJ walked towards the house. She waved when she saw them, smiling as she saw the way their fingers were intertwined.

"What're doing outside, Mamí?" Edgar asked as they slowed to a stop.

"Making sure you're following your curfew, mi manzanita," she said. "Your boyfriend is a bad influence and I had to see with my own eyes that you came home on time."

Edgar fought the urge to roll his eyes. He loved his mama, but she really needed to have more faith in him.

"Rita, why is his curfew so early?" JJ complained, as he swung his and Edgar's arms back and forth. "All the fun happens after eight, you know."

She sighed through her nose. "Because, JJ, you all have school in the morning. And he has responsibilities. Just because the people in your life let you run around like a wild animal–"

"Why don't I meet ya inside, Mamí? So I can say goodnight," Edgar offered, cutting off what was definitely going to be an insult.

She scoffed but didn't argue, getting to her feet and starting towards the door. She stopped just outside of the doorway, turning to them with a very serious look. "You have three minutes. I will drag you inside by your ear, Edgar. ¿Entiendes?"

He nodded as JJ sent her a little mocking salute. "Yes, ma'am."

She walked inside, muttering under her breath.

The second the door was closed behind her, Edgar smacked JJ in the back of the head. "Stop antagonizing my mother!"

"Ow!" JJ rubbed the spot Edgar's hand had collided with. "I can't help myself. It's too easy."

Edgar rolled his eyes. "You're the worst, y'know that?"

JJ smiled, pulling him close. He wrapped his arms around his waist, bumping their foreheads together. "But you love me anyway."

"That don't stop you from bein' annoying."

He pinched Edgar's side, earning a gentle kick to the shin. "Be nice. Gimme a goodnight kiss."

Edgar laughed. "You're just gonna climb into my bed in two hours anyways."

He pinched him again. "Play along, Bun. We have to say goodnight now, so your mama doesn't get suspicious and come into your room later with her gun."

"I dunno why you're so scared she's gonna shoot ya. She's overall anti-vio–"

He was cut off with a kiss, JJ grabbing his chin to hold him cllose.

Pulling away, after a long breathtaking moment, he said, "Goodnight, Eds."

Stealing another kiss, Edgar breathed, "Goodnight, Jay."

It took another long moment – or two – for them to fully separate. Once Edgar was finally inside, he jumped when he saw his mother sitting at the kitchen table.

Her phone illuminated her face in the darkness, making her look like some kind of evil spirit. "Thirty seconds to spare. You're lucky."

"You actually timed us?"

She flipped her phone around to show him the timer with 27.43 seconds left on it. "I was deadly serious."

He laughed. "I can see that. Can I get ready for bed now or are ya gonna time how long it takes for me to walk to my room?"

She put her phone down, crossing her arms over her chest. "Did you eat?"

"We had pizza."

"What kind?"

"Frozen."

"Did you actually do your homework?"

They'd spent the majority of the afternoon watching the Friday The 13th where Jason Vorhees is in space, and another good chunk of time making out in JJ's kitchen. But in between those things, he did manage to complete almost all of his assignments. "Yes ma'am."

"Did you–"

Teasingly, he stated, "Did you suddenly become a cop? Why are you interrogatin' me?"

She huffed. "I'm not allowed to ask how your day was?" He opened his mouth to speak and she cut him off. "I missed you. I was worried about you."

"Oh, Mamí," He walked over and gave her a hug, "Y'ain't gotta worry 'bout me. I can take care a myself."

She grabbed his hand, pressing kisses to the back of it. "It's my job to worry, mijo. It's what I signed up for." She squeezed his hand. "Okay, no more mushy stuff. Go get ready for bed."

It was a shame that she didn't like JJ, cause sometimes they were so similar.

He kissed her temple. "Goodnight, Mamí."

"Goodnight, baby."

[elipheleh]

Stonewall

Continuing my series of learning about things referenced in the book, I'm looking at things Alex references when he talks about engaging with queer history. These are all tagged #a series of learning about things that are referenced in the book, if you want to block the tag.

Stonewall is one of the more well known events, but that doesn't mean that everyone knows what happened, so it's still important - I think - to cover it.

‘Stonewall’ is used by Alex to refer to the Stonewall Riots, which began on the 28th of June, 1969. Patrons of the Stonewall Inn in Greenwich Village, New York City, fought back after a regular police raid, triggering subsequent nights of riots. The police were targeting gay bars, and had been for years. They would raid gay establishments and arrest anyone who wasn’t wearing three items of clothing that complied with their gender, in accordance with New York State law. Unfortunately, the catalyst for why the patrons fought back that night is heavily disputed, even from people present, and there is no clear answer why. Some say that a lesbian began the riot by fighting back against a policeman who was 'mauling' her, others say a trans person hit a policeman - some think that was Tammy Novak, who fought back when a cop tried to push her into a police van. What is known is that patrons refused to provide identification, and others refused to go with police. Those who weren't arrested didn't disperse as usual, but rather gathered outside the Inn watching their peers being arrested. At some point, as mentioned above, the riot began and violence broke out. The police, in trying to restrain some of the crowd, knocked people down - which only increased the anger of the crowd.

Michael Fader talks about the mood:

We all had a collective feeling like we'd had enough of this kind of shit. It wasn't anything tangible anybody said to anyone else, it was just kind of like everything over the years had come to a head on that one particular night in the one particular place and it was not an organized demonstration ... Everyone in the crowd felt that we were never going to go back. It was like the last straw. It was time to reclaim something that had always been taken from us ... All kinds of people, all different reasons, but mostly it was total outrage, anger, sorrow, everything combined, and everything just kind of ran its course.

The riots continued into the early hours of the morning, thirteen people had been arrested and some of the crowd were hospitalised. Rioting continued the following nights, but so too did the desire to organise and take action to secure gay liberation. By 1974, five years later, there were more than 800 gay organisations - compared to the 50 that pre-dated the riots.

The above image is the only known photo taken during the first night of the riots. It shows the homeless gay youth who stayed nearby the Stonewall Inn fighting with police.

-----

There is an ongoing debate over the importance of Stonewall within queer history. It has become synonymous with the "origin" of the gay rights movement, something which many of those involved with early activism disagree with. In the years preceding Stonewall, activists were working towards gay liberation through various different methods.

The Mattachine Society, founded in 1950 in Los Angeles by Harry Hay (and other, unnamed, friends), but spread nationally, had been carrying out "Sip-in's" in New York in an attempt to legalise gay bars. The State Liquor Authority had been denying licenses to bars which served gay people in an attempt to rid the streets of queer people & others who were seen by politicians as "undesirables". They planned that members of The Mattachine Society would enter the bar, announce their homosexuality, and wait to see if they were served. If they were not, they then would file a complaint against the bar and - more importantly - the State Liquor Authority for violating their constitutional right to free assembly & equal accommodation. Bars had been using the State Liquor Authority's requirements of "orderly conduct" to refuse service. Queer encounters between two men were classed as "disorderly", enabling the bars to discriminate against gay people. In 1966, the highest court in New York ruled in their favour, saying that the SLA could not revoke a license on the basis of homosexual solicitation.

There were many other ways queer activism was being carried out, many successful, but it would make this post much too long if I were to list it all. It’s all reasonably easy to find online, the Library of Congress link below has some useful information.

The work carried out by gay activists, especially since the 1950s, had created a point where all that was needed to ignite the gay liberation movement was one event that empowered gay men and women to band together and fight for their rights. Scholars tend to argue that the Stonewall Riots were that catalyst, especially as the media coverage meant queer Americans saw clearly that there were others fighting for their rights, and there were others who were like them.

Sources: Stonewall Origins, Time SLA Sip In's - Stonewall. Carter 2005, page 50 The Gay ‘Sip-In’ that Drew from the Civil Rights Movement to Fight Discrimination - History Wider information - Stonewall. Carter. Fader Quote - Stonewall. Carter - from wikipedia Additional Reading: JSTOR - The Stonewall Riots didn't start the Gay Rights Movement Time - 'The Beginning of a Conversation': What It Was Like to Be an LGBTQ Activist Before Stonewall Library of Congress - LGBTQIA+ Studies: A Resource Guide

[icewazowski]

Guilty Anticipated Plea

The office was warm, sunlight shining through the floor-to-ceiling windows which lined the southern facing side of the building; shades of orange cast across the room as you walk in. 

There was no change to your behaviour, it was another late shift, the dreaded three-pm whilst midnight shift, where you sat behind a desk for hours until either a prisoner was brought into the station, or until your eyes fell out of your skull. Nothing to be particularly excited about, but nothing to dread, either.

It was tangible in the office today, the air was thick with dread and humidity as you slump into your seat, your hands poised over the faded keyboard and you waited.

There wasn’t much point opening up the computer system, having a look at which prisoners were in, because that’s what Sergeant Price did, he was the one who called the shots, and unfortunately for you, he was the man who sat on the desk opposite yours.

You could see him now, not that you wanted to look at him, but his eyes were focused on his screen as he read through the inventory of the forty something prisoners, all in for different crimes.

“Fuck me,” You groaned softly, the pit of nerves in your stomach only increasing by the tenfold as his eyes departed from his screen and cast over towards you, agonisingly quick, to the point where you nearly missed it, “I’ve been off duty twelve hours and I come back to ninety-one fucking emails?” you complained, your lips re-acquainting with your e-cigarette to take a drag from. 

That was something else you weren’t really supposed to do in a police building; vape. Of course smoking was banned inside, it had been done since the early 2000′s, but vaping? It just depended on who your supervisor was, and how discrete you could be. You took a deep drag, and allowed the flavoured nicotine to settle in your lungs.

“Those are bad for you,” Price grumbles from his seat, his eyes still focused on his screen, “You’re lucky I don’t mind,” he continues, as though you ought to get on your knees and thank him for his benevolence towards your addiction.

Your brows knit together subtly, “Say’s the bloke who sucks on a cigar as though it’s a pacifier,” your reply is cocky, inherently so, but that’s just the sort of banter you’ve managed to formulate with him. You humour him, he humours you... sometimes, he even lets you indulge in driving the supervisor car around.

“Please don’t say that word ever again,” he complains.

A smile crosses your face, “Suck?” you ask.

“Pacifier; you’re not American, so don’t start speaking like one,” he reprimands whilst his hands busy themselves on the keyboard. You bet he’s typing another one of those emails, informing everyone in the district about a high risk missing person. You guarantee it, it’s practically the only reason he emails you. “Are you okay?”

His question, initially, takes you off guard. Sure, he’s your supervisor, and he has a duty of care over you, but you can’t imagine he means it. “What?” you ask.

“You look angry,” Sergeant Price replies, a pen now tucked in the corner of his mouth whilst he picks up his coffee mug and swills what remains inside.

“It’s just my face,” you reply, logging onto your computer to finally get started on your work for the day.

Like every other day, it hadn’t taken long for you to get swamped with prisoners. The early shift on response had decided to go and raid a cannabis farm, and of course that meant you had to interview each and every one of them, trailing over every ounce of evidence gathered whilst you fought off any feeling of resentment towards the cops.

Plain and simply, it sucked.

You were on your third interview of the day, your eyes were reddened and dry from all the screen-time you’d amassed, and all you wanted was to curl up with a cup of coffee and sleep it off. “Sergeant, I’ve interviewed my last lad,” you announced, stepping into the office with your notes in your hands whilst your eyes met the cool ones of Sergeant Price. “Can I get some advice?” you ask him, knowing he’d have to accept.

“Take a seat,” he replies, his foot nudges the swivel chair across for you to have a seat on.

The whole time you explain what the prisoner had disclosed, you can’t keep your eyes off the Sergeant’s hands, how large they are compared to yours. It’s almost comical, he’s completely bigger than you, and it only took you until 2359hours on the third year of working with him to realise it. 

“Hello?” he asks, his tone rich, almost like red wine as it courses through the nearly impenetrable silence of the now empty office, “Did you just fall asleep with your eyes open?” he says, his tone rich with humour.

You blink, hard. 

Any composure you had before this moment was now done for, it had been thrown out the window along with any other shred of dignity you had, “I need a drink,” you reply slowly, each syllable tested on your lips before you submit it into permanency, “preferably alcoholic.”

“I’ll go deal with the prisoner, you get off,” his large, calloused hand plants on your shoulder, a half-smile offered across, and then he stands up and leaves you to get on with your night.

[bansept]

Pushing Forward (Resident Evil)

In every movement, every sound, every shift in the light, he remembers the groaning, moaning, and screaming of those things. In every lingering second, minute, and hour, he feels his heartbeat, his breath hitch. He isn't himself. Maybe he never was. He was alive, maybe he isn't anymore.

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

So, I finished RE2 Remake some time ago and wanted to write some post-game fiction of what *I* think Leon might feel like after all that stuff happened. (spoiler, he doesn't feel that good)

Here is the link to read it on AO3 !

TW : canon violence, suicidal thoughts, explicit description of violence, past traumatic experience, Leon being sad and traumatized.

For the sake of me, I do not choose any pairings!

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

When he looks back at his life, he should have known nothing good would ever come out of it.

He did try to find some hope, some comfort. A way out of the loneliness he grew up in. Becoming a cop was a good way to put others before himself, longingly trying to bury himself in work, be it sorting documents about thefts, disputes, burglaries, or lost kittens... And if not working at the post, then patrol the streets with a senior officer busy comically eating his doughnuts and loudly sipping his coffee while belittling him for being so naively attentive about everything in the streets. Being scolded for not getting things done quickly enough, being complimented for reading all the files, and cleaning behind himself.

Anything but being late.

He remembers hanging up his phone after his ex-girlfriend broke up with him, declaring he was "too nice" and she was worth more than a simple cop. He can see himself reaching for the nearest vodka bottle on the table, swinging back, and drowning his grunts of pain in the hard alcohol. Oh, that shit was disgusting. But that was all he had at the moment, the bitter, sickening taste of a cheap bottle found in the back of a cupboard. His head throbs in remembrance, the way he woke up laid down on the floor, hungover and late as fuck.

His eyes shift to the Matilda gun he carefully placed on the table in front of him, and he gulps.

He met Claire at the first stop of that nightmare, the gas station. She did save his ass by shooting in the cashier's head, splattering his brains and blood everywhere. It was the first time he saw a head explode in real life. And even in the movies he did watch it wasn't as gory.

He recalls the night, and how used to violence he became to survive.

Leon feels his stomach churn, unhappy about the lack of food and crude memories. His temples are still wet, even after a cold shower, his moist hands rub together on his jeans in a vain attempt to get rid of his unease.

The hotel he is placed in is clean, warm, and safe. The security is tight, with trained armed men on every level ready to shoot any and all threats. He dumbly explained to them the zombies needed to be shot in the head until it popped open for them to stay down and dead, but stabbing their bodies with a knife would always be a good precautionary measure. Leon almost got bit dozens of times at the beginning of the night before applying his little technique. For all that matters, the agent he talked to only seemed to nod his head in courtesy rather than in actual thanks.

"It's not like any of them actually fought against those things..." He mumbles as he stands up, rubbing his hand against his arm nervously. "Fucking stuck-ups. Next time, I'm not telling them shit."

Leon walks silently to the adjacent bathroom, the wounds on his chest rubbing against the freshly applied bandages. After getting pulled out of the funicular, a team of medic had stopped him, examining his pupils for any suspicious movement all the while three charged and ready-to-shoot LE 5 guns were aimed at his head, chest, and legs. He had managed to calmly explain why he was there under their watchful eyes, the doctor in front of him pushing a shot of morphine into his arm and telling him to follow the men to safety. They had bandaged him hurriedly, the clean wrapping too tight around the gash on his belly and upper back, before heading back to their more important work like ant drones. He isn't their priority right now. And he doesn't know if he should be happy to be left alone without incessant questioning, or if he should pick up his gun and shoot himself in the bathroom to stop his brain from remembering.

The square mirror on top of the sink reflects a stranger: a man at the end of the thread, impossible bags under his eyes, sweat-covered face and hair, bruises and gashes all over his body, the light in his eyes only a reflection of the sickly white ceiling lamp. His smile he always tries to wear is gone. His confidence is battered, spread on the ground like the limbs and bones of all those people he killed, a poor excuse of what it was not even two days before. He never likes to walk around shirtless, but the feeling of a t-shirt or sweatshirt makes his skin crawl and the wounds always end up bleeding again. He doesn't want to feel blood on his skin ever again. But the bandage around his chest, covering his shoulder and his stomach is starting to get redder by the minute, and he grunts between rapid pants.

"Breathe in, breathe out..." He tells himself, his own voice sounding foreign, too deep, too fucking abnormal to his own ears. His hands reach for the bandage lining, pulling on it carefully, the strain of the pressure being released makes his teeth clench as a rush of pain travels through his stomach. He wants to end it all now. Like a bandaid, Leon thinks he must pull all of it fast, so the pain can vanish more easily. Hopefully. The grunts keep coming out of his mouth, an abundance of pain and blood pouring out of his body, but he keeps going. His hands are bloody by the time the wrap drops to the floor, revealing a deep gash going from under his pancreas to his left hip. He was told he was extremely lucky to not have any organs touched, but now, alone in a hotel bathroom, tears pooling in his eyes, hands shaking, mind racing to that fucking grey giant dude who almost punctured him a hundred times over in less than 5 hours and blood all over his wounded chest, he wishes he could have died there.

His teary gaze falls to the wound, palping it, feeling the warm liquid oozing out of him slow down. He thinks he remembers being told to wash the wound before wrapping it up again.

"Hope water is enough..." Leon shuffles to his right side, the less injured one, to open the faucet and gather some water. His hips gradually move his body closer, and the water he pours on the gash doesn't splash everywhere. Yay, at least he can still be somewhat clean.

Time is passing, he knows it, feels it every time he touches the flow of cold water, but he doesn't want to guess how long it takes to clean himself. Too long probably. He feels so fucking tired, used, rotten. But he does manage to finish his task. Now he only has to wrap it, tightly enough, and go back to feeling like shit, but only emotionally. He whimpers at the rough contact, but the linen does the job. His eyes go back up after a while, movements now a habit, and he's met with the old bandage on his shoulder.

He doesn't want to believe she is dead. She might have survived the fall from the metal gateway, might have escaped the city... Just like she might not. He wants to think that somehow, someway, she was the one that helped him kill that terrifying grey man with the rocket launcher. He wants to believe she did want to help him. That Ada didn't entirely lie to him, that she wasn't after the virus only to sell it to someone new. He scoffs to himself. He doesn't know her. Or didn't know. His eyebrows twitch in frustration. He wants her to be alive, and as well as possible. But at the same time, if she were alive, she would need to answer all of his questions, and he knows she wouldn't. If she is dead, all her secrets are buried with her, and while her loss hurts him, he can remember the moments of truth rather than the way she manipulated him to reach her own goal.

His hands tie the wrapping, smoothing it evenly, and the pressure on his chest feels right. He turns off the faucet, and with one more look in the mirror, turns off the light to walk back into the bedroom. The silence and lack of things to do send shivers back down his spine, and the infuriating agony of waiting invades him once again. He needs to find something to do, to occupy his mind before he takes the gun and shoves it in his mouth.

Leon walks up to the coffee table, hissing when he bends down to pick up his phone. The sturdy Nokia lights up with a caller ID, and he is certain he never picked up a call as quickly.

"Claire!"

"Leon! Hi!" She sounds thrilled to hear his voice, and he feels a literal ball of nerves going back down his body, relief washing over him.

"How are you? And Sherry? They got you to a safe place, right?" Leon doesn't even have time to feel stupid: of course they were taken to safety. He only needs to hear her say it.

"We're both okay! Some docs tested and patched us up quickly, then we got sent to a hotel for the time being. When our quarantine will be lifted, we should be able to go back to civilization."

She sounds chipper, like all that shit out there was just a picnic gone wrong. He envies her, wishes he could act that way, just brush it all off and move on. Then he remembers he's alone and she's with Sherry. Claire can't afford to crumble down with her, she needs to be there, to support her and make her believe everything will be alright, soon. Leon guesses if Sherry wasn't there, Claire would be as helpless as him. He shakes his head and offers a breathy laugh.

"I'm glad..." He really is. Too many people died because of his incompetence, he wouldn't be able to bear Claire and Sherry's disappearance as well. "I'm at a hotel too. Nobody told me when I'd get out, but it shouldn't be long."

"Yeah, I hope so. I need a break from anything Raccoon City-related." She chuckles, her voice sounding soft even through the plastic Nokia case. He feels a smile stretch on his lips.

"By the way, did you have any contact with your brother? Is he alright too?"

"Oh, yeah Chris! He contacted me a few hours ago. Said he was fine and he'd be meeting us soon with the BSAA."

BSAA? What was that? Leon frowns but doesn't interrupt her. Is it part of the army?

"Oh, actually, I think someone here wanted to talk to you, Leon." Claire declares, a teasing tone in her voice.

"Hm? What? Who?" His brain is heavy in his skull, fatigue catching up to him. He can't guess who could want to talk to him in particular.

There is movement on the line, the phone shuffled from one hand to another in silence.

"Leon!" Sherry's voice rings in the device, and for the second time that day, all his fatigue is going down the drain, the voice of the child single-handedly brushing off the dark clouds over his head. Only breakfast manages to do that.

"Sherry!" He answers excitedly. "I'm happy to hear you! How are you?"

"I'm okay! Claire and I are at the hotel! I hope we leave soon, I'm tired of sticking here."

Oh, how he gets that.

"Don't worry, you'll be out soon. You just stay with Claire, okay? She'll take good care of you."

It's not a stretch to affirm it: Sherry depends on Claire now. With both her parents gone, the city she probably grew up in blown up, and no living family, Claire is the sister figure she needs. Leon hopes they will be able to stay together even after those events. It's another story for him. He cares about the little girl. He cares about Claire. He wants them safe. He wants to see them both smile and grow older. But.. He can't see himself being with them. He won't be. He knows it. If he doesn't blow his brains in the upcoming nights, he will be dragged somewhere else. He is a cop, but he's seen too many things and knows too much information. He's afraid he breathes his last smiles with them, hotels apart, the greying of the phone masking their feelings.

When the call ends, he feels empty again. Empty but full of fear, anger, unshakable terror, of disgust. Against the world, against himself. He wants to rush back to the bathroom to re-open his wound only to patch them up again, so he can absorb himself in the violence of blood. He wants to take his combat knife, gifted by Lieutenant Branaghn, which he couldn't save either, and dig it into someone's eye socket. He wants to sneak inside the armory in one of the many rooms to take a shotgun and blow the remaining zombies outside. He wants to do it all over again. He needs to exorcise his thoughts by doing the same thing, over and over, so he can think about nothing else, and forget the human emotions creeping up, forget the guilt and pain and regret.

Someone knocks at the door, and Leon immediately takes the Matilda gun with him.

Behind the door, the government.

Behind the door, an offer he can't refuse.

Beyond the door, more pain. More death.

He picks up his shirt and follows the two bulky men, sensing blood oozing out of him once again, the last remnants of police officer Leon Kennedy trailing behind him.

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

In the final fight, Leon can actually get slashed on the ass, but I thoughts it would be too cruel to have his wound here, so I took pity.

One day, I hope to do another one with RE4!

[natedogx15]

Mission 7: A Hero's Heart and Plots a Plenty

Previous Chapter / AO3 / Master List

Izuku and Shiki stare at Toshinori in shock as he smiles at them. There is a long silence before it ends with Izuku's scream.

"All Might deflated!" Izuku screeches as he grabs onto Shiki.

Shiki himself does nothing but stare at Toshinori with wide, unblinking eyes. His face betrays nothing but close-mouthed shock as he silently stares at the skinny man while Izuku holds onto him and panics.

"W-wait! You can't be All Might! All Might is fearless and saves everyone with a smile. P-plus, he's huge!" Izuku shouts toward Toshinori, his mind refusing to believe what happened not even a minute ago.

"Nope, you're wrong. I am All Might." Toshinori sighs as he looks at the two.

Izuku joins Shiki in quiet shock as All Might continues.

"You know those guys constantly flexing and posturing at the pool? What I do is similar to that." Toshinori tells them, causing Izuku to scream.

"No way!"

Toshinori sighs before sitting down and leaning against the fence behind him.

"It's the truth. But make sure you don't write about it online, even accidentally." All Might warn them.

He then pulls up his white shirt and shows the two something that furthers Izuku's shock.

On the left side of All Might's abdomen is a nasty purple injury with various stitching that seems to converge into his body slightly.

"This is an injury I got from an enemy around five years ago. Half of my body's respiratory organs are missing, along with my stomach." Toshinori explains to the two.

Izuku doesn't know what to say. He can't believe what he's hearing. All Might, the Symbol of Peace and the strongest hero in Japan was gravely injured in a fight.

"Right now, I can only do hero work for about three hours each day," Toshinori reveals with a sigh.

After All Might says that, an idea pops into Izuku's head as to how he got that injury.

"Five years ago... Was that when you fought against Toxic Chainsaw?" Izuku asks as Shiki seems to get over his shock by blinking a few times.

Toshinori is surprised to hear the question and gives Izuku a slightly impressed look.

"You're well informed. But no, it was during a fight that was never revealed to the public. I didn't want it to be known because the Symbol of Peace should be undaunted against evil. Having criminals know I can be injured this badly may boost their morale." Toshinori tells them with a sigh.

"It makes sense. You're known across the world as the paragon of invincibility and peace. If people found out you could be injured, it would cause a lot of people biding their time to become bold." Shiki nods, speaking for the first time since Toshinori revealed his skinny form.

"Yes. That's why I smile. I smile to show the pressure of heroes and to trick the fear inside me." Toshinori tells them, shocking the two teens into silence again with his announcement of his fear.

"Pros are always risking their lives by fighting villains. You two have tasted that lifestyle with your Kamen Rider personas. However, I've spent far longer than either of you. So, believe me when I tell you, you haven't experienced anything yet." Toshinori tells them.

Izuku bites his lower lip when Toshinori says that, one question he's been asking all his life popping into his head.

"So, are you saying that someone Quirkless can't be a hero?" Izuku asks him, afraid of the answer.

Toshinori looks at him for a second before looking toward the sky.

"Had you asked me that question a couple of weeks ago, I would have probably told you it was impossible to become a hero without a Quirk and that you should aim for something like becoming a cop, firefighter, or another type of first responder," Toshinori tells them, causing Izuku and Shiki's hearts to clench slightly in pain and worry.

However, Shiki picks up on Toshinori's words and asks.

"And now?"

Toshinori gives the two a warm smile and says.

"I think there's a good chance one can still be a hero without a Quirk with the right equipment, enough training, and the heart to be one," Toshinori tells them, causing the two teens' hearts to skip a beat in happiness.

"What changed your mind?" Izuku asks him curiously.

"You did," Toshinori says while pointing toward Izuku.

Izuku looks shocked, while Shiki turns to his friend with a surprised face.

"M-me? H-how?" Izuku stutters, unable to fathom how he could have inspired the Symbol of Peace to change his stance on who can be a hero.

"Because of what you did when that other Kamen Rider was about to release his attack. You showed no hesitation as you ran towards him to try and protect those around you." Toshinori tells him, causing Izuku to blush and rub his arm in uncertainty.

"I-I didn't do that on purpose, though. M-my body reacted on i-its own. Before I realized what was happening, I was already getting closer to Kacchan." Izuku explains to Toshinori.

That response causes Toshinori to gain an even warmer smile.

"Did you know there's a story for every hero? In most of them, there's one thing they have in common. Their bodies move before they even have the chance to think, almost on their own." Toshinori tells them.

Realization and shock flash through both sets of eyes as Toshinori continues their speech. Izuku bends down as tears fill his eyes as he remembers his mom's words when they found out he may never gain a Quirk while Toshinori continues to speak.

"I'm sorry, Izuku. I'm so sorry."

"And that is what happened to you on that day," Toshinori tells him as Izuku begins to cry.

As this is happening, Shiki clenches his hands into fists, but Toshinori isn't done.

"And it wasn't just that moment that proved you two were heroes. It was also what you did today. Despite your injuries, you two willingly left your homes to head toward where you knew danger was. You both showed the heart of a hero when you did that, willing to throw yourselves into danger for the sake of others. When there was nothing for you to gain and everything for you to lose, rising to that challenge is the mark of a true hero." Toshinori compliments the two.

That causes Shiki to loosen his grip while Izuku cries tears of happiness. Shiki wasn't far behind him. His own memories surfaced.

"I'm sorry, Shiki. It's too dangerous for you to be a hero."

"Young Midoriya, Young Hikage. You both can be fantastic heroes." Toshinori announces, causing the dams to burst and them to cry waterfalls of tears.

Their crying isn't silent sobs like when they first met each other. No, it's full-blown ugly crying from happiness as their idol tells them they can be great heroes.

It takes almost fifteen minutes for the two to calm down and stop the tears. After calming down, they looked toward Toshinori with puffy red eyes as he patiently waited for them to finish.

"S-sorry, All Might. We d-didn't mean to take up your time like that." Izuku hiccups slightly as he apologizes to Toshinori, who waves their concerns off.

"Think nothing of it. I understand the feelings you're both going through right now. You both have the right to cry tears of joy." Toshinori tells them with a smile.

"S-so, what are you going to do with us?" Shiki asks, stuttering slightly as well.

"Simple. I want to help you two become great heroes by training you myself. You both have been doing a fine job handling the Nomu. However, you'll need training if you hope to get any further as heroes. You must improve upon your limits and surpass them. That is the essence of being a hero!" Toshinori announces while transforming into All Might at his last sentence... then coughing up blood and deflating again, causing Izuku to scream in worry.

On the other hand, Shiki gains a flat look when he watches Toshinori do what he did. The shock, happiness, and other emotions have worn off enough to where he can think calmly again. Being able to; he's able to see the strangeness of this situation and has a feeling he'll be dealing with a lot of strange, awkward, and comedic moments if this is how All Might act when not on the job.

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

Katsuki has a frustrated look on his face as he walks toward his family's apartment while the sun is starting to fall. His 'training' started back at square one because of how he handled the situation with Mammoth Nomu and the other Kamen Riders. Slidin' Go was drilling him about how to work with the other Kamen Riders in public as if he needed them to handle being a hero. To add to his anger, he'd spent some of today looking through the comments about his latest fight against Mammoth Nomu and his action against the other Kamen Riders.

It's not like he cares about what the extras online say about him. He never cared about what others thought of him and was always hyperfocused on becoming the strongest as the number one hero. Because of that, he always acted in whatever way he wanted without a care about how others would see him. However, the threat of losing his ability to become a hero early because of Deku and his friend has left him silently stewing in a boiling rage.

"I can't believe after all these years, Deku is still getting in my way of becoming the number one hero. I'll show him and all the other extras that they can't stop me from accomplishing my dream." Katsuki silently promises himself inside of his head as he makes his way up the stairs.

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

Unknown to him, he's not the only one feeling the effects of today's display. Shinonome is also having problems due to his actions and her choice of giving him the Hero Driver.

"What was that display, Shinonome? We can't keep helping you if your Kamen Rider continues to do actions such as today. He could have gotten some people seriously injured or killed by deflecting that attack aimed at the Nomu. You had better have him shape up or pick someone that isn't such loose cannon glory hound." Someone snaps at her on the phone while she's in her home office space.

"Of course. I'll get him to fall in line soon. I already have a trustworthy hero training him. It'll only be a matter of time before his more negative aspects are fixed. Thank you for being willing to stick with me and my decision for so long, sir. I promise it will benefit us in the end." Shinonome promises with nervousness and thankfulness evident in her tone as she ends the call.

After she ends the call, though, she immediately gets another one. She quickly looks at the caller ID and gains a nervous and horrified expression. She instantly picks up the phone and answers.

"Yes, sir?" She asks.

"Shinonome." The person on the other end, who was also the same person she spoke to in her car before, says in a tone that clearly displayed his anger.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, sir. I promise I am doing my best to rein him in." Shinonome immediately begins promising to the man on the phone.

"Do you know how much unnecessary risk you're placing on us with this attempt at power-grabbing?" The man asks her, causing Shinonome to start apologizing even more.

"I know, I know, but I promise I'm already taking steps to fix everything. I have Slidin' Go training the boy as we speak. I really think he's the best candidate because of his past with one of the other Kamen Riders. If you can give me more time, I promise I'll get you results; just a little more time." Shinonome tells the person on the phone, trying to barter with them.

"If something like this happens again, you will turn the device over to us so we can reverse engineer it or give it to someone more amicable to our cause." The man warns her, causing her to gain an even more horrified look.

"B-but, i-if I do that, all of my hard work will be for nothing. The Commission won't trust me with anything ever again. They may even do a deeper investigation and manage to pull something that could be detrimental to the cause." Shinonome tells the person.

"If you feel that strongly about it, then you should make sure that doesn't happen." The person on the other end tells her before hanging up the phone.

Shinonome looks at the phone as it shakes in her hand before letting out a frustrated scream as she throws her phone into the wall. She bends her body and rubs her knuckles into her skull while muttering.

"I'm screwed, I'm screwed, I'm screwed. I only have one more chance to get this right. That damn brat! I should have never chosen him. The mental advantage over Deku is not worth all of this." Shinonome mutters before taking a few deep breaths to try and calm down.

After a few minutes, Shinonome finally calms down and begins to go over her situation again.

"No, no, it's fine. This kid wants to be the number one hero. That means he won't want to lose his chance at being a hero early. I can set him straight by warning him that this is his last chance before I decide to go for another candidate. I may even be able to threaten his abilities to go to a hero school." Shinonome mutters as she goes over her options.

She picks up her thrown phone, seemingly undamaged from the throw, and speed dials Slidin' Go's number.

"Hey, Ms. Shinonome. I'm guessing the talks didn't go well after our ward's latest performance." Slidin' Go says, causing Shinonome to sigh.

"You have no idea. I'm down to my last chance before it's time for plan B. I need you to hurry up and get that kid to understand that he can't do whatever he wants." Shinonome orders him.

"And how do you propose I speed his training up?" Slidin'g Go asks.

"Tell him he's down to his last chance before I choose someone else for the Kamen Rider program. That should get him the behave the way we want him to. After that, try to bait him with strategies to get around this warning by exploiting a loophole, such as how I said he couldn't fight them in public. Maybe he'll finally understand that he has to play this smarter and follow our instructions." Shinonome explains.

Slidin' Go takes a few moments to think about this information on the other side of the phone before replying.

"That seems like a good plan on how to handle him. I don't appreciate how you're trying to order me around when we're both the same rank within the organization, though." Slidin' Go chastizes her. But it sounds more playful than anything else.

Shinonome smiles before it becomes a smug smirk.

"We may be the same rank in the army as spies. But don't forget; I'm the one on the Commission. That makes me your boss by association." She tells him.

"Hahaha, fair enough. I'll see what I can do. But friendly advice. I recommend preparing to disappear in case things go wrong in the end." Slidin' Go warns her before ending the call.

"Oh, don't worry; I already have a few plans to get out of here," Shinonome mutters before she hears a voice behind her.

"That's interesting. Would you mind sharing with me how you plan on doing that? I'm curious about this organization you're with other than the Hero Public Safety Commission." Giran's voice says behind her, causing Shinonome to turn around in fear.

That fear quickly turns into anger and suspicion as she glares at Giran.

"Who are you, and how did you get into my house!?" She shouts at him as she prepares to attack.

Giran grins toward her and pulls out his revolver-shaped lighter, causing Shinonome to attack him with her Quirk. She fires a mental blast straight into Giran's mind to disorient him. However, her mental attack meets the mental equivalent of a brick wall.

"He has a mental Meta Ability as well?" Shinonome asks inside her mind in shock when she realizes her attack can't get through.

"Your face says, 'he has a mental Quirk too.' You should work on hiding your emotions." Giran advises Shinonome as he lights the cigarette in his mouth.

"Who are you?" Shinonome asks again, this time more nervous than before.

"My alias would be Giran. Now that I've answered one of your questions. You have to answer one of mine. What is this organization you're a part of?" Giran asks her casually.

"And why would I tell you that?" Shinonome glares at him.

"Because I asked nicely and answered one of your questions. You should really pay attention to what other people are saying." Giran tells her with a smile, causing anger to bubble in Shinonome again.

"Don't screw with me, Asshole." Shinonome snaps at her as she tries attacking him again.

Unfortunately, no matter how hard she tries, none of her attacks can breach Giran's mental barrier.

"Alright, since you don't want to answer that question, why don't you tell me who you talked to on the phone today? I believe I heard you on three different calls. I'd like to know about your connections and see if I can dig anything up about this organization from them." Giran tells her while motioning for her to give him her phone.

Shinonome holds the phone close to her chest and glares at him in defiance.

"There is no way I'm letting you have my phone or check my contacts. Now, get out of my house!" Shinonome shouts at him as she grows more desperate with her attacks.

"Why must they always choose the hard way during these?" Giran sighs as he morphs into his Nomu form.

Shinonome stares in horror as Giran stalks toward her.

"No, stay away! Get away from me! AHHH!" Shinonome screams as Giran pounces on her.

Her scream is cut short when one of the tentacle's ends touches her head, though. She desperately tries to fight off whatever is trying to get into her mind with her Quirk, but nothing seems to be working. She soon enters a coma-like state as Giran rummages through her mind.

"Finally, I was afraid her screams would alert the neighbors. Now, let's see what you know." Giran's voice rings out throughout the room despite not having a mouth in this form.

After a few minutes of searching, Giran stumbles upon a shocking discovery.

"Oh, ho, ho. This is interesting. Dr. Garaki and the Master will be pleased when they learn about this." Giran's confident and excited tone rings throughout the room as he sets Shinonome down.

He keeps one tentacle on Shinonome's forehead as he gently sets her in her chair and takes her phone to browse through it. After a few minutes of memorizing all her contacts, Giran puts the phone back in her hand and moves toward the door, with his tentacle lengthening to keep attached to Shinonome's head while he gets further away from her. He soon morphs back into his human form and leaves the room. A full minute after he exits her house, Shinonome wakes up from whatever trance she's in and looks around the room in confusion.

"Ugh, what was I doing again? Right, dealing with the aftermath of that brat. Let's see, I covered handling my connections, and I already talked to Slidin' Go about what to do about his training. What's left?" Shinonome asks herself as she racks her brain.

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

As Shinonome does this, Giran walks down the street with a grin as he calls Dr. Garaki.

"Yes, Giran?" Dr. Garaki asks when he answers the call.

"I did some digging using the source herself and found an interesting fact about her," Giran tells him.

"And I assume you'll tell me what this fact is?" Dr. Garaki asks him in a bored tone.

"Yes, it seems like Ms. Shinonome is a member of the Meta Liberation Army," Giran explains, only to gain a look of surprise when Dr. Garaki says in a bored tone.

"I'm already aware of that, I had one of the Nomu tail her, and they revealed this information to me already."

"And you didn't think to tell me about this while I was digging. Why?" Giran asks in a slightly annoyed tone.

"Because I was hoping you'd figure it out along with other information. So, what did you learn while in her head?" Dr. Garaki asks him.

Grian sighs at being brushed off but gets over it quickly to continue their conversation.

"Well, I found quite a few members are in relatively high places and where their base of operations is," Giran tells him, piquing Dr. Garaki's interest.

"Oh, good job, Giran. Where is it?" Dr. Garaki asks.

"You're not going to believe this," Giran warns Dr. Garaki.

"Try me." Dr. Garaki challenges.

"Well, this organization has been sneakier than you probably expected. They've been building their resources and members in a single city. Deika City, to be precise. You won't believe how much information I got from that woman. The organization is massive. It's surprising how well they kept it a secret. The people running this are pretty competent." Giran tells Dr. Garaki, surprising the man on the other side with this news.

"Interesting. Thank you for this new information Giran. I'll pass it along to the Master, and we'll decide how to handle this." Dr. Garaki tells him as he's about to hang up the phone before Giran stops him.

"Wait, don't you want to know about the names of its top brass?" Giran asks.

"You learned about that from her too?" Dr. Garaki asks.

"Yes, the leader is Rikiya Yotsubashi, the president of Detnerat. As for the upper echelon, we have the executive director of Shoowaysha Publishing, Kizuki Chitose, a board member at Feel Good, Inc., Chikazoku Tomoyasu, and the leader of the Hearts and Mind Party, Hanabata Koku." Giran lists off the members he knows about.

"Hmm, that would explain why Detnerat has been selling support gear on the black market as of late. It would also explain why Destro's autobiography continues to be printed. Not to mention how they've been able to stay hidden for so long. Good job, Giran. It would seem you've stumbled on an information gold mine with that spy." Dr. Garaki compliments the man, causing him to grin.

"No problem. I'll be leaving this city until the heat dies down, though. With those Kamen Riders, All Might, and police combing the streets for the Nomu source, this city has lost its profit for a while." Giran tells him.

"Very well, you can pull back for now. However, I want you to change your targets instead and get us into contact with this new Meta Liberation Army." Dr. Garaki orders.

Giran scratches his head and releases a sigh, the grin never leaving his face throughout the entire conversation.

"You know, you can be a real slave driver. That's a tall order with how many members it seems to have and the risks of moving in on a group like that." Giran tells him.

"I'm aware. However, their belief and cause make them the perfect group to further my research and have plenty of Nomu to attack the Kamen Riders. Working with them will be nothing but beneficial for us." Dr. Garaki informs him.

"Alright, I'll see what I can do. Just give me a few days." Giran requests.

"Take all the time you need. We're in no rush." Dr. Garaki tells him while ending the call.

Giran looks at his phone before putting it away and looking toward the sky. He releases a large puff of smoke and sighs.

"I guess that ancient saying still holds true today. No rest for the wicked." Giran says as he walks off toward the train station to leave town.

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

Shiki and Izuku were dropped off by All Might and are heading up the stairs toward their apartments.

"Well, these last two days have been eventful. I can't believe this has all happened in a couple weeks." Shiki mutters next to Izuku.

Izuku can't help letting out a tired and nervous laugh when he thinks about his friend's words.

"I know. I didn't expect to have to go through so much so soon when I became a hero. It's surprising how fast our lives are changing." Izuku agrees with Shiki.

"Yeah, I've heard that a hero's life moves quickly. But I didn't expect it to be so literal. We went from two Quirkless teens that people said shouldn't be heroes to being trained by All Might of all people. That's probably the biggest change we can ever expect in our lives. Well, besides getting strong Quirks of our own." Shiki tells him.

"Yeah." Izuku agrees with his friend before they part ways. Shiki is the first to leave and heads toward his apartment.

When he enters, he immediately dives onto his couch and turns to look at the ceiling.

"Did you know there's a story for every hero? In most of them, there's one thing they have in common. Their bodies move before they even have the chance to think, almost on their own."

"I don't think I've ever been in a situation like that, even when I moved to protect Izuku against the shadow-controlling Nomu." Shiki thinks to himself.

"Does that mean I'll make for a bad hero? No, I've been training for this and have tread the ins and outs of the Hero Driver. Plus, I'll be getting extra training from All Might." Shiki mutters as he tries to tell himself that it doesn't matter.

"But all you've done is physically and strategically prepare, and those didn't help against K.E.M.," A part of his mind says.

"It's fine. All Might was still impressed with what he saw in me. I can still be a great hero despite never being in that situation," Shiki tells himself.

"He was more impressed with Midoriya, though. And he's in the same situation as you but with less training." His mind reminds him again.

 Unable to sit still, Shiki stands up and opens one of the apartment doors to reveal a small gym. Putting on the gloves at the stand next to the door, Shiki walks toward the sandbag in the room and starts punching it.

"It doesn't matter. I'll be okay and be able to complete my dream." Shiki mutters as he continues to punch.

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

The morning of the next day, the two teens find themselves met with the sight of All Might standing proudly in the parking lot.

"Hahaha, I'm glad to see you both. How are you feeling today?" All Might boisterously ask the two.

Shiki shakes his body a few times and feels most of the soreness gone, barring his hands, but Shiki ignores that.

"I feel okay. What about you?" Shiki asks his friend.

Izuku smiles and nods, although feeling more sore than Shiki.

"I'll be fine." Izuku nods, causing All Might to grin an even wider grin.

"Great. Then let's begin your training." All Might says as he grabs the two and flies off.

"Ahh!" Izuku shrieks in panic as Shiki's eyes widen in surprise and slight fear as they fly off.

The trio soon lands on a beach, and All Might drop the two on the sand.

"Welcome to Takoba Municipal Beach Park, boys." All Might shouts as the two look around to see piles and piles of junk. The area around them seems more like a junkyard than a beach.

"Um, All Might. What are we doing here?" Izuku asks his idol.

"Training, my boy! We'll be training your bodies by having you help clean up this beach!" All Might announces.

Izuku and Shiki look shocked as they stare at the mounds of trash and metal around them before looking toward All Might.

"We have to clean up all of this?" Izuku nervously asks as Shiki stands up and begins browsing through the trash.

"Yes. Of course, I don't expect you two to do this in the span of a day." All Might says before he suddenly deflates.

"This training will be through the rest of the year up until around its time for the UA entrance exams," Toshinori tells the two.

"The entrance exams?" Izuku asks in shock.

"Yes. You will be taking those exams and joining the UA hero curriculum." Toshinori announces.

"Are we going to be getting letters of recommendation from you?" Shiki asks curiously.

Toshinori quickly shakes his head no and looks at the two seriously.

"No, you two will prove you belong at UA without me. The most I'll do for you is give you two will be giving advice and training." Toshinori tells them.

Shiki looks slightly disappointed when he hears that but quickly shakes it off.

"Now then, I want you to begin clearing this beach." Toshinori orders.

The two Kamen Riders pull out their Hero Drivers, but Toshinori stops them.

"Not like that. I want you two to do this without your support gear." Toshinori announces, surprising the two.

"But wouldn't it be best if we got training with our Hero Drivers and Rider forms?" Izuku asks in confusion.

"Maybe, but I want you two to first train your bodies by working without them. Have you ever heard the saying, Quirks are like muscles? Well, we'll be training your muscles like heroes would be training their Quirks." Toshinori tells them.

This shocks the two, but they still follow Toshinori's instructions and begin picking up the garbage. Izuku begins his training by picking up the smaller pieces around the beach, while Shiki quickly goes for the more substantial items like car parts. While they do this, Toshinori watches them and analyzes their movements.

"Hmm, it seems like Young Hikage is more confident in his physical abilities than Young Midoriya. However, that could also be taken as Young Midoriya being the more tactical person by trying to finish the easiest part of this task before starting anything else." Toshinori thinks to himself as he watches the two go to work.

However, he soon notices the slightly uncomfortable and pained look on Shiki as he carries off some trash toward a nearby truck that Toshinori requested ahead of time. This causes Toshinori to monitor Shiki more closely and see the slight rawness of his knuckles for the first time.

"Did he injure his hands before coming here?" Toshinori mentally wonders.

Toshinori decides not to pry on it for now and moves on to watching Izuku.

Izuku is currently picking up items like bottles and cans but can't keep many in his arms at a time. He soon drops all the trash in his arms and looks disappointedly at the fallen recyclables.

"I need to find something to put these in." Izuku thinks as he looks around for something.

He quickly spots a paper bag underneath some trash and some sand. He digs it out and looks inside to see a few small holes, but not substantial enough to make holding things in it difficult. Using the bag, Izuku puts his recyclables in it and heads toward the nearest recycling. He then repeats this process by putting smaller pieces of trash and recyclables in before dumping them in their proper bin.

The two keep at their methods for hours with some quick breaks before Toshinori has them stop. He brings the two some water he bought from a nearby convenience store and lets them rest.

"Good job, you two. Now you'll be going on a run." Toshinori announces.

The two don't say anything and follow their trainer's instructions. So, the trio runs down the sidewalk next to the beach, with Toshinori following behind them on a moped. As they're running, it becomes clear that Shiki is better equipped to handle this type of training as Izuku is lagging slightly while Shiki keeps a constant pace. Seeing his training partner lag behind him, Shiki slows down to run near him.

"Are you okay?" Shiki asks.

"Y-yeah. Just *huff* not used to this kind of *huff* training." Izuku says between gasps and releases heavy breaths.

Toshinori drives onto the other side of Izuku and says.

"And that is exactly why we are doing this. Heroes must train daily to stay in top form while in the field. Your Hero Drivers may make up for your underdeveloped bodies, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't train yourselves up. With enough training, you'll be able to handle the strain from battles and overuse of the Hero Drivers. Plus, it'll improve your overall performance as heroes." Toshinori explains to the two before falling back to drive behind them.

Hearing this, Izuku seems to gain his second wind and tries hard to continue running with Shiki. However, this burst of energy soon ends, and he has to stop and rest on a bench while drinking from his water bottle. Shiki, who stopped with him to get a short rest, looks toward his friend with a raised eyebrow.

"You've really never trained before, have you?" Shiki asks him, causing Izuku to blush in embarrassment.

"You do realize the only school that lets people without Quirks take their hero course exam has a physical test? We may be able to take it once every year, but that doesn't mean anything will change if you only rely on your brain." Shiki says while placing a finger on Izuku's forehead.

Izuku groans as Shiki dresses him down.

"Sorry." Izuku apologizes.

"Young Hikage is right, Young Midoriya. While training your mind is important. You must remember to train your body too. Some say that exercise can help you learn." Toshinori encourages the boy.

"Sorry. I'll try harder, All Might." Izuku apologizes again before promising to do better.

"It's alright, my boy. That's what this training is for. And don't work harder than you have to. You both should follow these training plans I'm giving you to the letter." Toshinori announces as he hands the two small notebooks with notes on how they should train.

The two take a few moments to check their training regiment for the next few months before putting them away so they don't lose them. Though, Izuku looks slightly more green than usual when he realizes how much he must do.

"Remember, you must follow these regiments to the letter. We'll stop training here so you two can rest before tomorrow's training. I expect you both to be here bright and early tomorrow morning." Toshinori announces, causing the two to sigh in relief.

"Now, I'm off!" Toshinori shouts as he transforms into his muscle form and flies off.

The two watch him fly off, and Shiki tiredly sighs before walking away. Izuku quickly follows after him.

"So, what should we do now?" Izuku asks his friend.

Shiki looks at him boredly before saying.

"I've got to go buy all the food on this list. You can come to if you want." Shiki tells him.

Izuku blinks in confusion at his friend's words.

"Won't your parents be buying them? Actually, where are your parents? I don't think I've ever met them before." Izuku asks Shiki.

Shiki freezes at Izuku's words. However, he quickly shakes it off and says.

"I'm being taken care of by my grandpa," Shiki says in a tone that doesn't convey any emotions, and Izuku realizes he hit a sensitive topic.

"Sorry, sorry. I didn't mean to bring up any bad memories." Izuku quickly apologizes.

"It's fine. You didn't know. Let's go." Shiki tells him as he leads the two to the nearest store.

The two walk with an awkward silence between them as they collect Shiki's groceries.

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

As this happens, David Shield is coming out of customs at an airport with someone following close behind him.

The person following behind him is a young woman about a year or two older than Shiki and Izuku. She's tall with fair skin, light blue eyes behind black-framed circular glasses, and long wavy blond hair that reaches her back.

The young woman is wearing a white short-sleeve dress shirt under a dark raspberry pink waistcoat with an orange plaid bow, pale gray Capri pants, and brown boots that go up to her knees with pink plaid socks that reach her kneecaps.

"Are you excited to meet the others, Melissa?" David asks the young woman.

The now-named Melissa gives David an excited grin.

"Yeah. I can't wait to meet them. I also can't wait to see this Rider system you're so proud of." She tells David happily.

"Well, we'll be there soon. Your uncle told me he'll be picking us up." David tells her, causing Melissa's grin to grow.

"Uncle All Mi-" Melissa starts before getting cut off by David with a panicked palm to her mouth.

"Let's not say that out loud around here, Melissa. We don't need that kind of attention on us." David tells his daughter with a weak smile.

"Sorry, Dad." Melissa gives her father an apologetic smile, and David smiles at her.

The two soon exit the airport and spot All Might's car quickly. The reason for this is that it looks like a high-tech black supercar, and David was the one who built it for him.

"There's the Hercules," Melissa says, pointing toward the car.

The two quickly head toward the car and see Toshinori silently waiting for them in his skinny form. When he sees them in his rear-view mirror, Toshinori gains a bright grin and exits his car.

"Uncle Toshinori." Melissa excitedly says as she runs over and happily hugs Toshinori.

"It's good to see you again, Melissa," Toshinori tells her with a smile.

"It's great to see you too. It's been so long since we last saw each other." Melissa tells him while hugging him tighter.

"Hehe, sorry about that. I've been pretty busy over here lately. The wicked don't rest and all that." Toshinori apologizes to her, his smile turning slightly tired.

"Hopefully, the installation of the Hero Driver will help with your workload then," David grins at him while saying that.

Toshinori winches when David says that and gives his friend a strained look.

"About that, there's been an issue. We'll talk about it while I take you to your lab." Toshinori explains as he gets out of Melissa's grip and motions for them to get in the car.

The three quickly put Melissa's bags in the trunk, and Toshinori drives them toward the lab.

"So, what happened while I was gone?" David asks.

Toshinori releases a heavy sigh, causing David and Melissa's worried looks to intensify.

"While you were gone, someone in the Hero Public Safety Commission got their hands on a Hero Driver and gave it to a rather dangerous person," Toshinori reveals, causing the two other occupants in the car to widen their eyes in shock.

"What!" David shouts in shock.

"Yeah. I'm sure Midoriya and Hikage have been trying to call you." Toshinori tells him.

"My phone got destroyed while at I-Island, and I haven't been able to check my mail." David winches when he realizes how bad this looks for him.

"That's bad," Melissa says when she realizes her father may be in trouble.

"Yeah, I'm sure they think you may have something to do with it," Toshinori warns his friend.

"But I let Samuel and Hisashi know I'm leaving for I-Island to bring Melissa here. I even let Mrs. Yaoyorozu know I'd be away from her company's lab." David explains.

"Samuel's gone missing too. We still don't know where he is. I only know this because I asked a friend investigating his disappearance when you told me about who was in your group." Toshinori explains.

"You don't think Mr. Abraham gave out the Hero Driver? Do you?" Melissa asks her uncle.

"No way. Samuel and I worked on the Quirk-enhancing technology long before we started helping Hisashi with the Hero Driver. I know Samuel; he's a good person." David defends his teammate.

"I'm sorry, David. But while you have an alibi, it seems like Samuel doesn't. You, Midoriya, and he are the only ones who could create a Hero Driver. He probably went into hiding after seeing how destructive the person given it is." Toshinori explains to his friend.

David has a betrayed expression, and Melissa looks at her father worriedly.

"But it's not all bad. I met with the boy you told me about and took him and the chairman's grandson under my wing." Toshinori reveals to try and lighten the mood.

That helps David's mood, and he looks at his friend in surprise.

"Really. I thought you didn't want any more sidekicks after Nighteye and your injury?" David questions his friend.

Toshinori lets out a heavy sigh as he looks at his dashboard sadly.

"Let's just say; I'm starting to feel my age catch up with me, and it made me realize I may need to spend more time teaching," Toshinori says sadly.

David gives his friend a look of pity and understanding. Hero work is like that of an athlete. Eventually, your age catches up with you physically and mentally, progressively becoming harder to continue.

"I'm sorry to hear that." David apologizes to his friend.

However, Toshinori quickly stops him and smiles.

"It's alright. I still have enough years in me to finish everything I want to do. One of those things is to deal with these Nomu plaguing Japan." Toshinori tells him.

"Well, I'm glad to hear they're my juniors now," David says with a somewhat strained grin.

"I'm already working them hard by making them clean up my old favorite beach while going through tough training regiments." Toshinori laughs.

The conversations continue to move on to a more positive note as the three drive toward Uncountable Enterprises. Once they arrive at the gate, though. Things take a slightly different tone.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Shield. But I need security to follow you in and stay with you until Mr. Midoriya or our boss says otherwise." Mr. Raccoon says as he alerts security about David's arrival.

David smiles at the man and says.

"I understand. There was a breach, and you're on edge. I'm sure I'll be able to clear this up soon." David tells the man, causing him to give David a thankful look.

The trio is let in and parks the Hercules. Afterward, they're led into the building by two security guards, with Melissa having a nervous expression. David quickly places a comforting hand on his daughter, relieving some of the tension in her.

They soon arrive at the lab floor and go through the hallway, hearing noises that bring a smile to Melissa's face as they walk.

*Grinding*

*Drilling*

*Burning*

*Bang*

"What are we doing wrong with this stupid A.I.? We've scanned the code multiple times!" A scientist screams in frustration.

The group soon arrives at the team's lab and rings the doorbell. Hisashi quickly opens the door, and his eyes widen when he sees David.

"Where have you been? I've been trying to call you, and you didn't respond to my emails!" Hisashi says as he motions for them to enter the room quickly before stopping security.

"I've got this handled. You can go." Hisashi tells them.

The two nod and leave. After they do and he closes the door, Hisashi turns around to glare at David before he notices Toshinori.

"What is he doing here?" Hisashi asks while pointing toward Toshinori, not knowing he's All Might.

The three's eyes widen in a slight panic as they realize this. However, David quickly covers it up and gives Hisashi a shaky grin.

"This is a friend of mine from back in America. I asked him to pick us up from the airport, and he drove us here since I told him about my work." David explains to Hisashi.

"Is that why he's been skulking around my apartment lately? He randomly appeared after my son and Hikage's grandson took down a Nomu." Hisashi tells David while narrowing his eyes at a nervous Toshinori.

"Well, he's another friend of All Might. So, I'm sure he was also scouting to see if they're worth training since I also told All Might about the program." David says while grinning nervously as Hiashi's eyebrow twitches.

"How many people have you been telling this secret program to?" Hisashi says, emphasizing the word secret while looking at his teammate and others.

"Not a lot, I promise. I thought I'd only tell some of the people it can greatly affect so they can help keep an eye on your son. I promise that nothing bad will come out of it." David tells Hisashi quickly.

"Well, I guess I should thank you for that, then. Apparently, All Might has taken our Kamen Riders on as his students. That'll help them in the long run. Especially with our latest problem outside of hunting the Nomu." Hisashi lets out a tired and angry sigh.

"Toshinori told me about that. So, someone got their hands on one of our Hero Drivers?" David asks worriedly.

"Yep. It's not just anyone, though. It's my son's old-school bully. You know, the one I told you about. And he's being protected by a rather annoying member of the Commission." Hisashi explains with a frustrated expression before he focuses back on David.

"So, where were you during all of this, David?" Hisashi asks him.

"I went back to I-Island to pick Melissa up. I told you about this before I left." David tells him incredulously.

Hisashi blinks and puts a hand to his chin as he racks his brain, trying to remember David telling him that. Finally, after what feels like hours, despite being far less, he remembers David telling him that while he was on one of his tangents.

"That's right. Well, I guess you may be in the clear. Possibly. We don't know when the Hero Driver was given out. So, you're still likely going to be under investigation." Hisashi warns.

David doesn't look happy about that, and neither does his entourage. However, Hisashi isn't done.

"However, you have a better alibi than Samuel since he's vanished. So, he's the main suspect, and you'll likely be safe." Hisashi tells his friend, causing everyone to calm down.

"Do you think that it's Samuel who sold the Driver?" David asks for Hisashi's opinion on the matter.

"I'm pretty sure, yes. He's the only one not here and hasn't given an alibi. It's either he sold one, or something happened to him. It may be both." Hisashi adds-on.

David gains a worried look along with Melissa and Toshinori, with Melissa muttering.

"Oh, Mr. Abraham."

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

Samuel Abraham is not having a good time. He felt like he couldn't enter the lab after K.E.M.'s debut due to the destruction the Kamen Rider caused. He hadn't expected someone from the Commission to choose such a destructive person.

"What am I going to do? The others will kill me, and Chairman Hikage won't forgive me for putting his grandson in harm's way." Samuel panics in a hotel where he's been hiding out after watching K.E.M.'s debut.

"I shouldn't have gone through with this," Samuel mutters as he remembers why he did what he did.

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

"What do you mean the sponsors may shut down our work?" Samuel asks David.

"I'm sorry, Samuel. I'm doing everything possible, but the sponsors think our device is too dangerous!" David shouts in frustration as he puts his hands on his head.

"What are we supposed to do?" Samuel mutters frustratedly.

"Well, I have a way we can work around this, but you may not like it." David sighs.

"What?" Samuel asks him desperately.

"I got an offer from another scientist in Japan who's heard about our work. He says the Commission has given him a job, and he's looking for people to join his development team. He says the project will involve dealing with a new type of villain that's risen in Japan. He'd like us to use our research to help him develop the device." David explains to him.

"So, he wants to use our research to complete his project with his name at the front?" Samuel asks in anger.

"It's not like that, Samuel. We'll all be getting the credit for where we worked. Besides, this project is supposed to be kept secret until the Nomus have been dealt with." David tells him.

Samuel looks frustrated when he hears that and stomps off.

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

"I shouldn't have let David talk me into agreeing to this. Losing all our hard work is better than being a wanted criminal." Samuel mutters as he puts his head into his hands.

"What am I supposed to do now? Could I make it back to I-Island? I have a few friends in other places that may be able to help me with this situation." Samuel calms down as he pulls his phone out to see if anyone can help him.

As the phone dials, he mutters.

"I should at least try to get out of the city."

Next Chapter

[blairfindsout]

On looks

I entered the house like always, harsh. Fought my way in like I was pushing through some kind of membrane. The door hit the wall and everything warped. For a second, I thought I was in the wrong home. Years ago, my mom’s old boyfriend Dave did that.  He tried to leave after one or four too many, backed out of the driveway and into the ditch across the street. Then he tried to come back but pulled into the neighbor’s driveway instead. Clumsy and loud he opened the door to a family that was not my mother’s and so did not find his drunkenness hilarious. They called the cops before he could get the words right, he was laughing so hard he couldn't explain. When Dave left ma for his roofer’s daughter she was drunk all the time and teaching me how to drive. I thought about breaking suddenly when she broke the silence with ‘Honey. There truly is nothing on this planet more dangerous than a handsome man. Evil monsters. Every one of them. They can’t help it. Steer clear.’ 

At the time I thought, boy wouldn't I love to experience the cynicism of sleeping with too many handsome men. I would like that regret, if I had to choose a kind. Today I think of Eli. Not a handsome man in the generic way, his features had a tendency to bunch up at the top of his face, inclined to snarl. This morning he had slurped Cheerios off my stomach, not even three hours ago. I wish I could say that the less handsome ones were always solid, but sometimes when he came home, Eli seemed to be on a different channel. He’d look at me like I was a stranger and ask where I put his harmonica and the truth was that weeks ago I had thrown it out the window. 

[the-firebird69]

This is an electric concept car it's really kind of a copy of a b-type but they changed some portions of it but it's awesome looking and he's wondering how you get in and out of it as a regular door so the visibility is not so good it works. He and she said usually a kit car that was pretty good if they are different and radical and they look really cool like the coyote and this one does it looks massively cool and it would be a pretty good car for a sedan and it's saying you could make it cheap. And in one piece at first with the shell attached to the cage if you could it usually you can't it's a good idea though it would show up different than the others and it would be unique and very very very fast and we can change the front end a little you think it's really cool and it has a look that people want and people like the straight sides but in pain and it's fast and you would have wide tires of course and this particular look is kind of famous for being fast but people know what it is no it's extremely fast and they tried to do with the Corvette but they chickened out the Corvette is too high up on to the roof and it's too high off the ground and it's not wide enough and the square part of it's only like two inches it doesn't do it and the windshield projects up too high and it's not angular enough there's a few design flaws it looks similar and people like that here's the version that actually works and Corvette eventually might change yeah maybe this is what it's supposed to be much faster than it is. So people still turn around in the street and it's horseshit. Yesterday they tried to kidnap our son at fisherman's village then they tried to grab him with the cops and the fire people and then him losing the power on his bike and we got mad and we're saying it and they don't care but okay.

Last night The tavern dropped in about 8 in and that's a lot it is a decent drop 8 in and also tonight the cabin will drop probably 10 in and together that brings the cavern at the Charlotte Park that's a system out there within probably a couple feet yes because the water has receded almost completely and the incoming saltwater is not pressurized yet and it won't be for probably a month but two feet is pretty far to go and it might rain today here we don't think so chances are very slim but they're fighting up north in the Midwest and the upper Midwest in the rivers and two feet at this rate will take 3 days and once again the schedule is pushed out. It is a lot of movies for Trump to be in just a lot he's going to be in tons of films they say but when you look at it it looks like someone else and if you knew these guys it sounds similar one to the next so it's going on did they think he it's hit in the Terminator series it is not far-fetched for him to get hit there it's not a stretch and Tommy f knows he's in a bad spot right between them it's going to be a war and his San Francisco city of San Francisco is right between them and that's what gets destroyed and fought over is silicon and the items there they did notice that's his City and he's been tampering with people they don't know what scale and also is another Factor pretty soon it'll be tapping into it and he'll be identified and we'll have to fight so he's trying to kidnap our son and they noticed that they're right there the clothes and they're fighting them and they noticed that the comic book guy is a clone and they started fighting them that's what was going on at fisherman's village too it was a big fight after our son left. That was a joke no it's very bad so we are Manning up here. Radiation levels however are increasing even though it is not dropping and they're increasing to levels that you admit you're not ready for and you cannot withstand and they're going up already last night was four at 14 and one at 15 the oxygen went up to about 20 4 hours and spiked 24 three times as soon as a little fan on and he's getting some air and he was not really before too much but it does work he says it's a little bit of a headache and it's true it causes pain sometimes but he's willing to heal is a few more things happening

This car is a great idea for a kit car it's a modern idea instead of a mega car and people might not do the mega cars kind of around I'm very extreme we have tried it and people have tried it and they don't like it people will like this one and it's because they are set in their ways and they think that the Corvette's fast and it kind of is if you lower it and put some fairings on it goes massively fast and this is why and people will do that to their Corvettes to try and keep up with this car on a regular sedan front wheel drive V6 mostly they put 2 l in which have 230 horsepower the kit would include exhaust which brings it to 250 horsepower and at that horsepower regular sedan mid-sized no full size it would go about 700 mph true though it would not feel torquey enough and so you want to use the full size it's like a 3.2 l has 350 horsepower you put the kid on and has 400 horsepower and the car will go about 1200 miles per hour no doubt and people will get an accident quickly and they will try and blame the kit car company that's why people don't do it but these days they will blame the car company I'll try and take it over but they're not going to court and the ones to do that with the we want to go after so we're going to try and get this done somehow and it says we can do it if we use panels and just kind of smuggle it and make the panels and an a****** area and slowly assign it to people as they're making the money they say we kind of like the idea and then they'll start copying it and people will look for it and then start copying it cuz people look for it there it's not a bad idea. This car is worth a million dollars the idea is worth a million what it looks like is awesome and we can beat is just about every car out there sure that we can change the front end a little but it's the concept and it said someone put the design out there and doesn't expect anybody to use it and there's no copyright or anything and we checked so screw them it made a few of these prototypes has to make electric vehicles and we can have an electric option we could use an electric car Tesla is not large enough and we don't like there design except for the truck whatever that is and it would work with this that's probably what you would want to do with it and the wheelbase is a little different than the sedan but not much and yeah you're kind of a stupid person BG in here smart sometimes but you can't really make the car correctly because people won't let you. And it is what it is but okay but still this is electric on top of the Tesla and you change out the tires and rims would go about 780 mph for 3 hours okay so the top speed is about 1500 miles per hour and yeah people want that and we might start out doing that cuz it's not many of those Tesla truck things but that's what they like to do and that is very fast a full charge on the Tesla would last about 2,000 miles at regular driving it's an incredible idea so we're going to post

Thor Freya

He likes her work and I'll look it's unique our look is unique and it's for us and our type of thing we also likes the concepts that we put out this is one of them that's awesome he says and it's because it works and is massively fast but the concept is you have a smaller viewing port for safety and you have the speed that you need and the look is not completely unique and you can use it so it's really quite modern and his eyes lit up and actually lit up and he says why is he picking that one and he doesn't know why but we do it's because you know it's really fast and you said oh they've already designed it for us and he likes that too you can't stand these people so we think the electric approach is nice but it would be so limited it might not go anywhere else and it's off only a couple inches for the Tesla but both ways and he says that he wants his money for the kid they won't give him anything. And we do a lot of work with Asia and it would be nice to do some work with Korea and he thinks that's the greatest ideas since sliced bread and we like it a lot and it's a French car from France yeah. We're going to try and get it going and we know what he means the kia but with Trump and Tommy Anthony all those excuses they have kind of took him for a ride live $1,000 they owe him thousands and are so damn cheap and stupid and this would be Kia a household name because he's saying the stinger and it's kind of cool because it's the performance model it has 350 horsepower believe it or not about 380 when you jazz it up a little but changing exhaust and it's 400 and you can super cool it but it's a performance model so it has a little bit of a better frame well it's a chassis and the top is very heavy Ilby comparison and those things lose their value pretty quick a stinger they started in 2012 it says no it's like 2015 or something 2018 he says and that's when they started I've only been making them for 6 years they're very fast no but they're pretty fast I know about 190 and they make noise and stuff and they look pretty sporty but they just don't handle and they don't have the top end and they get bogged down you put just two people in it and people who are not disappointed they say this is how it goes with the sedan and she changed to a two-seater and it's an idea and he says people are not going to make a kit car into a sedan from a sedan and usually not it's just psychologically difficult for them to get through it and they would say well what's the difference and things the whole damn process this looks completely different it's a great car and a massive massive idea and it's their design sort of it's always really but it just sit on it and nothing happens and really it becomes more like junk and it's terrible really this could be a furious car and everywhere tons of people would love it and he would love it he probably want one and those Tesla trucks used to hold their value now they're not worth the time believe it or not as another idea they're probably worth $20,000 yeah it's the materials to put this on there and it'll be worth something. The top speed is ridiculous the handling performance would be ridiculous and front wheel drive gets you out of snow and rain and muck and hydraulic shocks would look normal in this and what a monstrous car what a beast and awesome looking and he likes the forward sliding canopy idea I really could have normal doors not too hard so we're going to go ahead and design it for a kit and he's saying we could panalize it and sneak it out of their area and blame them for making it and we need to do stuff like that in order to get it to work and we're going to get together with them and we need to do something like that and pronto

Armaan and Goddess Wife it was good that he knows our names yeah

It's a struggle for him but he knows that he needs to respect them and he remembered from where he went and people are starting to think about it this is hell here and it's using things like that does he have to this is a great car. I think I want one yeah that would be nice okay it's awesome I really like it and I need one it says look out here she comes and they're smiling and really I would like to drive one around. He thinks we can get away with a cheapo Depot kit meaning did the glass and things like that is easy for us to make and we make it better so it would seem cheaper cuz it's going to be light it's really going to be much better made and the laughing cuz it's true and we would have these little frame things and look cheesy but it would be attached it's also funny and there's not much to the whole kit really this only a few parts and they think that's funny too because it's true it's about 4,500 but they'd have to get tires and rims and that's not too bad and you saw the light fixtures and the light wiring and everything and you can do it as long enough just said no you extend it and you have to take it off so you take the interior out and you have to remove the wiring harness it's a lot of work and the wiring goes through the car he says or the chassis and they know it goes through the chassis so I was wondering it's probably if it goes to the car it's got to be replaced did they say yeah probably has to too bad you know we went to the the chassis would be really easy but I want one of these yeah

Hera

It says I can have one as my character but not as me up there but that's very funny of course I meant that yeah all right maybe I'd like one up here my space it has some windshield I spaceship already has the windshield so I get it..

We're going to start making one for her and him and it'll be nice cuz they'd be the ones with them and people would start getting them and this is terrible we know how it is

Armaan we have a terrible time here too these people are lumps on a log and they keep going after her son here and we're going to go nail them that we've had enough of this s*** all we do is kill you for what you're doing you stupid s**** Goddess Wife

We do appreciate the sentiment because we need them out we need people to go and get them out we need this car up I like it I like his idea going to stealth mode make the panels and stuff and go to their area and make it look like them so sick of these people and they'll start copying it. Truth as they'll start fighting over it and start making it and it's going to be world famous this car is going to kick some ass and kit cars will start popping up I'm trying to compete and they all lose

Thor Freya

What he says is so what they compete over it and it goes slow that's all die they will all die and that's what we want

Armaan and Goddess Wife

We're going to have a meeting about this one and we want to go in cuz they will kill each other over it

Olympus