#and yeah its 17 chapters bUT 5k words??

[ursuburbanmother]

I’m On Fire, But I’m Trying Not to Show It || Chapter Two

Pairing: Angus Tully x fem!reader

a/n: Hi guys! Back with chapter two!! Thank you for all the love last chapter! You guys are too sweet! I hope you like this chapter as well, although we get a little angsty in this one oops. Also author note at the end!

Word count: 5k.

Find: Part 1 Part 3 Part 4

Enjoy!

December 17, 1970. Still.

Paul Hunham didn’t think his luck could get any worse but then that moron at the Janie Patrick's Girl School had to go make his problems, his. Then at the young lady’s arrival Angus Tully practically had hearts popping out his eyes like those cartoon characters on TV. That would be an issue. An issue he had to deal with at once.

As the boys grumbled and moaned on their way to the infirmary, as if they were the Athenians sent to march to Marathon in 490 BC, he made his way to the kitchen, looking for a certain cook.

“Hello, Mary,” he greets. She sits at her desk with a cigarette between two fingers, writing something down in her notebook.

“Mr. Hunham. I heard you got stuck with babysitting duty this year. How’d you manage that?” Her tone tiptoes on the edge of teasing.

“Oh, I don’t know. I suppose I failed someone who richly deserved it.”

“The Osgood kid? Yeah, he was a real asshole. Rich and dumb. Popular combination around here.”

“It’s a plague. Uh, and you? You’ll be here, too?” God, he hopes she is. He doesn’t think he will be able to survive as the only adult on the school grounds.

To his relief she nods her head, “All by my lonesome. My little sister Peggy and her husband invited me to go visit them in Roxbury, but I feel like it’s too soon. Like Curtis will think that I’m abandoning him, you know. This is the last place my baby and I were together, not including the bus station.”

Paul pursues his lips, unsure of what to say. “Well, maybe you won't be completely alone. How would you feel about letting a female student sleep in the staff common room? We could push some couches together, I'm sure. Make a nice bed that way.”

“Female student? What do you mean?”

“I’m unsure about the exact details, but I have been entrusted by the idiots across the lake with taking care of one of their students.”

“Ahh,” Mary is beginning to understand.

He nods, “Her name is Y/n L/n, I think she and Tully are in cahoots somehow. You should've seen the way he looked at her.”

“Oh no, don't do that though. You can’t have that poor girl sleep on a lumpy couch all break. She needs a bed.”

“I just want this whole ordeal to go smoothly. If I can keep those two as far away as possible, I believe all will be well.”

“Please that Tully boy wouldn't try anything. Sometimes he is the only one to say thank you when we place the food down on the lunch tables.”

Paul mulls it over for a second. “I suppose I could give it a try. Not that I think it is wise.”

Mary smiles slightly, “I know those kids are hard to handle but hold out hope for them. Some trust too. It's not too late yet. Their brains are still moldable or whatever corny crap you teachers say.”

Paul smiles slightly, his attention pulled to the bottle of bourbon on her desk, “You mind if I uh…”

“You want some of that? All right.”

“Thank you.”

“You know this is a necessity,” Mary says as she pours the liquid into a mug for him.

“Oh yes,” for life, love, pain or the next two weeks. Paul understands too well.

…

“Put the bed farther away Angus,” you say, your arms on your hips and you watch him struggle to drag his bed closer to yours.

“Why? Do I smell or something?”

“It's already a stretch to think he might let us sleep in the same room, he's definitely not going to let your bed be that close to mine.”

Huffing he begins to scoot it back to its original place, “Fine.”

Music has started blaring loudly from where Teddy and Jason are bunking in. Park and Ollerman are minding their business in their own space. You are across, what you think will be the place Mr. Hunham will stay in. Your hope is that him having an accessible view will make him more lenient towards you and Angus, despite his earlier warning of having you be on your own.

You situate your lavender near the window and begin to unpack your things. Angus does the same and you can hear his rustling get faster.

“What's wrong?” You ask.

“My…” He trails off. Suddenly he storms off like a man on a mission. You ignore the magazine you were flipping through and let it fall on the floor as you get up to follow him.

You see him head directly towards Kountze. “Where’s my photo?”

“What photo?”

“I think you know what photo, and you stole it.”

“I resent that baseless accusation.”

“Give me my goddamn picture!” Angus shouts.

“Hey man, if you took the photo just give it back,” you plead exasperatedly to Teddy, already tired of his whole innocent act.

“Stay out of it Y/n, it's alright,” Angus assures you and you move back to lean against the doorway. You sort of hope Angus socks him.

Kountze leaps to his feet and stalks towards him, “You need your girlfriend to defend you now? Seriously, what's your problem, Tully? Homesick? Maybe the little boy misses his mommy?”

“Fuck you, Kountze. Leave her out of it. And hey, why are you even here anyway? Where’s your family?”

“We’re renovating our house. It’s all torn up. They’re storing the tools and stuff in my room.” “That’s what they told you? It’s winter, idiot. Nobody renovates their house in the winter. Your parents don’t want you around because you’re a fucking insecure sociopath.”

“Hey, take it easy, guys.”

You can see Angus getting angrier. His shoulders are tense and in a last ditch effort you go up to him and whisper in his ear, “Punch him later. In private. Hunham won’t even hear our reasoning for rooming together. He’ll punish you by punishing me.”

Misery loves company, right? That was the saying at least. In your mind, suffering with Angus was better than the alternative. You didn’t want to spend these two weeks inside a glass case. From what you had seen, Hunham would have no problem in making you sit at your own lunch table or study in a separate classroom. You know that is what Ms. Orchard would have done if she was forced to take in the boys. She would have locked you in your dorm and insisted it was because you would “distract” them.

You can see the gears turning in Angus’s mind. He bites the inside of his cheek and finally nods before turning back to glare at Kountze. “You’re an asshole. I just needed you to know that.”

He turns around to retreat back to the room only to run straight into Mr. Hunhams chest. Angus leaps off and leans his back against the wall. Your own eyes widened, you hadn’t even heard the man's footsteps.

He surveys the room and notes all your disheveledness. Teddy's face looks flushed while Angus is still trying to control his heavy breathing. Everyone is completely silent and too scared to even make a move.

“What is going on here?”

“They weren’t fighting,” Alex squeaked. Mr. Hunham only seems to grow more suspicious. He shifted his sights to you and his eyebrow begins to raise, “They weren’t bothering you were they.”

“No. We were just talking,” you swallow the lump in your throat.

“What about?”

“Hmm?” You hum, straightening up.

“What were you all discussing mere seconds before I barged in on what, I am sure, was a highly intellectual conversation.”

“Shocking Blue,” you blurt out and Hunham turns his head as if asking for clarification. “The band that was on the radio.”

“Yeah, we love Shocking Blue,” Angus nods. The rest of the boys chime in, faking their agreement.

“They’re so good.”

“I listen to them all the time.”

Mr. Hunham continues to look unconvinced. Without a word he walks out, and you all collectively let out a sigh of relief. For a moment, you all stare at each other with giddiness. Like when you're a kid and get away with stealing a cookie from the cooling tray. You let yourself relax but shrivel back up upon the echo of Mr. Hunham's haunting voice, “Mr. Tully, Ms. L/n, in here. NOW.”

You frown, gazing up at Angus, “I think he found the room.”

…

After a stern talking to, Mr. Hunham begrudgingly agreed to let you and Angus sleep in the same room. He took a string of jingle bells that hung from a nearby Christmas decoration and tied it around Angus’s bedpost so that if he dared to move, he would hear it. You two were just fine with that.

Later you were escorted to the large dining hall. Mr. Hunham sat at the head of the table as the rest of you indulged in mindless chatter. You and Angus were on your third round of rock, paper, scissors, competing for nothing, when a lady came in to set down a platter of chicken, potatoes and asparagus.

“Lovely. Thank you, Mary.” the older man says.

You wait for the initial rush of grubby hands and pushing elbows to pass before you serve yourself, when you find that Angus already did it for you. He sets down the plate in front of you and then gets himself a serving of the green vegetable on his own dish.

“Didn’t we already have this for lunch?” Jason asks.

“And it was crappy then,” Teddy says through his eager chewing. You gag at the scene.

“Consider yourselves lucky. During the third Punic campaign, 149-146 B.C., the Romans laid siege to Carthage for three entire years. By the time it ended, the Carthaginians were reduced to eating sand and drinking their own urine. Hence the term punitive.”

The woman from earlier, that you now know is Mary, returns with some water. You give her a passing smile which she returns.

“Mary, maybe you’d, um, maybe you would care to join us,” Hunham stumbles through his words.

Kountze looks up from his food then glances at you with alarm. Like he can't fathom the idea of sitting with the cook.

You think Mary can sense his disdain when you notice her demeanor sour after a glimpse in his direction. “No, I’m all right. Thank you.” She escapes through the kitchen doors.

Teddy pipes up, “I mean, I know she’s sad about her son and everything, but still, she’s getting paid to do a job. And she should do it well, right?”

The chewing and scraping of silverware halts. You and Angus gauge each other's reaction, both of you completely shocked and slightly horrified. That boy for some reason just never knows when to shut up and continues, “But I guess no matter how bad a cook she is, now they can never fire her.”

“Will you shut up!” Mr. Hunham yells loud enough for you to flinch. He slams his fork and knife down. “You have no idea what that woman has… For most people, Mr. Kountze, life is like a henhouse ladder -- shitty and short. You were born lucky. Maybe someday you entitled little degenerates will appreciate that. If you don’t, I feel sorry for you, and we will not have done our jobs. Now eat!”

…

You're on your bed and catching up on some reading and soaking in the orange hue that the bedside lamp offers you. The boys are still getting ready for bed, and you were graciously offered the first shift in the showers. You’re waiting for your hair to dry when Angus walks in with his pajamas on, and a towel draped over his shoulders.

“You look very dapper,” You smirk.

“Thank you,” he plops down into his mattress. “You think Walleye is still mad?”

“Probably. I don’t blame him.”

“It made for a pretty awkward evening though.”

“Not one of the worst dinners I ever had. I’d rather endure another night like this than any dinner with my parents.”

“Oh yeah,” he sighs, “Your parents... You never did tell me the reason why you’re here holding over.”

You shuffle around in your bed and bring your blanket up to your neck, “Doesn’t matter.”

“Come on, it's just me now. Tell me. I told you!”

“It's no big reason, just small ones. They didn’t specify. I didn’t want to go home. It's complicated.”

“Okay you just gave like four different excuses right there. What happened? Is it super embarrassing? Did they forget about you or something,” he laughs.

You wince at his words and pray that the world opens up and swallows you whole. Realization dawns on his face, “Oh shit. Did they?”

You nod solemnly and begin picking on the thread of the blanket, trying to make the threading come undone.

“How could they do that? The same assholes who always make a huge deal about RSVPs and invitations. Seriously?”

“It’s alright. I’ll live. I mean what would I have done if I was there? I’d be in my room and waiting for them to drag me out so they could introduce me to people. They’d act like doting parents, ditching me a second later to play blackjack with their friends.”

“I’m sorry. I wish you would have told me, we could’ve… I could have done something.”

You smile, “I didn’t tell you cause I know you. You would’ve cursed them out the minute you had hold of them. Anyways, maybe it was faith to get stranded at Barton.”

“Or bad luck,” he quips, “maybe the universe wants us to die of mundanity together.”

“Either or,” you grin. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore. Let's go to bed.”

Angus nods and spreads his long limbs across the bed exaggeratingly before turning to face the wall. “Whatever you want. Goodnight, Y/n.”

“Goodnight,” you go to turn off the lamp, wondering if you're being paranoid in sensing something off in the way he says your name.

…

December 20, 1970

The last few days had been the same grueling routine. Mr. Hunham would wake you up with the banging of bedpans and you would groan and try to shove yourself deep into your pillows.

“All right, you fetid layabouts,” he would say, “It’s daylight in the swamp. Arise!”

In the quad you were all forced to run laps. You hadn’t anticipated doing exercise, so you were forced to wear some joggers from the lost and found. You had been able to convince him that walking would be better suited for you and your imaginary cramps. His face had completely paled, and he hadn’t even let you finish speaking when he said you walking would be just fine. Men and their immaturity, you think.

When Angus and the rest of the boys would pass by you, he would glare jokingly at you while you would stick your tongue out and wave him goodbye as he flew past you.

During study hall, you would read some more and ignore the ongoing feud between Kountze and Angus. In the span of the last few days, you must have read three entire books. There was a lot of downtime in between recreational time with Mr. Hunham and dinner.

Today you had all decided to walk along the river. You can hear the church bells in the distance signaling the fact that it is the afternoon. Angus is swinging around a branch while Teddy and Jason pass around a football. You steer clear of both. You walk in sync with Alex and Ye-Joon. You’ve taken a liking to them. They remind you of the little sibling you always wanted but never got.

“What about your car?” Angus suggests, “We could take it, go somewhere. Boston maybe.” Jason shakes his head, “Nah, we’d get in so much trouble. Face it. We’re stuck.”

“If we just had some way to get out of here. Just split,” Angus kicks a pile of snow.

“Well, you could put a chopper down right in the Quad.”

“A what?”

“A helicopter, dumb ass,” Teddy snaps, “His old man’s CEO of Pratt & Whitney.”

“Got his own bird,” Jason confirms, “Takes it from Stamford to the city every morning. Lands right in our backyard. Pilot’s name, Wild Bill.”

“Wild Bill?” Ye-Joon awes.

“Yeah. Flew up to Haystack with it. Took the presents and everything. Minus me,” he shrugs.

“Flying with presents, like Santa Claus,” Alex comments with glee.

“Yeah. Just like Santa Claus.”

Jason whistles and tilts his head for Teddy to “go long.” They play catch, getting farther from the group as they go.

“If I was back home right now back in Provo, it would be really warm inside, and my mom would be making baked apples, and the whole house would smell like cinnamon and brown sugar,” Alex reminisces. You smile sadly at the boy.

“That sounds so nice,” Ye-Joon agrees.

Kountze runs back suddenly and grabs one of Alex’s gloves and throws it into the river.

“What's wrong with you?” You intervene.

“Hey!” Alex says simultaneously.

“That’s what you get for ratting me out, little Mormon,” Teddy laughs, not an ounce of regret at what he just did. You tap Angus’s shoulder as you go trailing after the young boy, “I’m going to go help.”

“It’s gone! My glove’s gone!” Ollerman shouts. You continue searching for it through the clearing.

“Twisted fucker orphaned that glove on purpose. Left you with one so the loss would sting that much more,” Angus shouts back.

Ollerman looks to be on the verge of tears. He stares down at his hands and starts walking down a snowy ramp. He throws the other glove before you can do anything to stop it. He watches it disappear downstream as you make your own way down.

“Did your mother make you that?”

He nods. “It’s alright. I know where he keeps his wallet. We’ll steal it and buy a new one.”

You manage to bring out a muffled laugh from him. You consider it a win.

…

Angus wakes up in the middle of the night to see you knitting. He gets up from the bed to see your progress.

“Oh hello, grandma,” he scoffs. “When did you learn to do that?”

“Girl scouts before I quit. You guys had a bunch of yarn just rotting behind your auditorium stage. Did you know that?”

“No? Are you making that for the kid?”

“Yeah, I feel bad.”

“That looks like crap,” Angus chuckles as he messes around with the gloves fingers. You swat his hand away.

“I never said I earned the badge. Besides, it's the thought that counts.”

“I’m going to get a glass of water. You want some?”

“No thanks.”

Angus leaves the room, only to return a couple seconds later.

“Ye-Joon is crying,” he whispers. You furrow your eyebrows and get up to follow him. His cries become louder, and you turn the corner to see the poor boy shivering.

“Are you all right?” You ask.

“I had a nightmare,” You crouch down so you can hear him better.

“Don’t worry we get nightmares too. Right Angus?”

“Yeah, I’m always falling. Or drowning.”

“Also, I had an accident,” he weeps.

You motion for Angus to check. He doesn't have to look far.

“Yeah, you did. Shhh. Stop crying. If they hear you, they’ll crucify you. Which would be ironic, since you’re Buddhist.”

“I know it’s an excellent school, and my brothers went here. But I miss my family, and I have no friends,” he sobs full-on. You hush him gently.

“You have plenty of time to make friends. You’re like a freshman, right? I would start worrying when you're fifty and living vicariously through your kids.”

“Yeah man. You could have a thousand friends and not like any of them. What would be the point of having them then,” Angus adds.

“We’ll help you hide the sheets in the morning, all right?” You wipe his tears with a tissue from a Kleenex box nearby. “Find a dry spot and try to get some sleep.”

“Thank you,” Park smiles consoled. Before going back to bed you ask him one last thing, “Hey do you like gloves?”

Ye-Joon gives you a quizzical look. …

December 22, 1970

Once again, you’re all studying in silence in a fancy room with portraits of dead white guys on the wall.

Mr. Hunham clears his throat loudly and Jason leans in to mutter in disgust, “Are you kidding me? It’s only eleven and he’s already lit. I can smell the whiskey on him.”

“Can you blame him? It’s freezing in here. It’s fucking Greenland in here,” Angus retorts.

From outside you hear the faint whirring of a machine. Not a car but something else. You all approach the window and spot the helicopter flying above the trees. It lands in the quad just like Jason had said it could. An older man steps out and he looks like one of the men you imagine roam Wall Street.

“He finally caved, the big softie!” Smith exclaims. He all but skips to the door and turns to you all, “Hey, any of you guys like to ski?”

You and Hunham stay behind as the rest go racing after him, filled with hope for what must be the first time in days. He goes to subdue the riot they make as they whoop down the hall, but you stop him by grabbing a hold of the end of his sleeve.

“Uh, sir? If Jason is inviting us, would you have to call our parents?”

“That would be proper protocol, yes.”

“Oh. Is there a way I could stay here then? I never cared for skiing and my parents would say no anyway.”

“Let's not get ahead of ourselves. I’d have to ask Woodrup about this first. Come on along,” he clears the path for you.

Grumbling, you find your way to the administrative offices. Hunham, Jason and his father shut themselves in a room. The boys along with Angus all try to listen in on the conversation by pressing their face as close as humanly possible against the glass. You watch from the sideline as Jason gives you guys a thumbs up. The hallway erupts in cheers and a minute later Mr. Hunham steps out with an announcement, “Gentlemen, good news. I was able to reach Dr. Woodrup and your parents. Most of them, anyway.”

Paul glances at Angus and you. Angus expression falters.

As the rest pack, you find refuge in your room. You can, however, hear Angus’s pleads.

“Try calling again. Just one more time. Please.”

“There’s no point. The desk clerk said no one’s answering. He says they’re away on some excursion.”

“Excursion,” he repeats.

Mr. Hunham scoffs, “I’m as disappointed as you are, if not more so. I could be spending the rest of my vacation reading mystery novels.”

“Maybe they’re back by now. Just call again.”

“Okay,” he gives in and marches down the corridor.

Ye-Joon had wished you goodbye a moment ago and now does the same for Angus, “Happy Holidays.”

“Same to you.”

“Take care, Tully.” Smith follows Park, giving him a pitiful pat on the arm.

You catch Alex as he is about to exit. You’ve wrapped the gloves you worked on endless last night in newspapers. “This is for you. Try not to get them stolen by Teddy again. I don’t think my fingers can handle another round of knitting.”

Ollerman smiles genuinely, giving you a hug you didn’t expect. You’re unable to return it as he has your stiff arms completely glued to your side. You follow him out, and Angus scowls in your direction.

“Why aren’t you more upset about this? That was our only way out and we blew it.”

“Don’t be so dramatic. Did you really want to go skiing with Kountze that badly?”

“No, I wanted to get out of here badly. Your parents seriously didn’t answer either?”

“Um-.”

“Hey, you know what! Maybe Hunham can call them again and they can take us both in!”

“Angus no-,”

“Yeah, come on! Let's go ask,” he tugs at your hand to get you through the corridor.

“No Angus. I don’t want to.”

“What, why?”

You run your hand through your hair, “I asked Mr. Hunham not to ring them.”

“Wait. So, you didn’t even try to leave!”

“No! I thought I was clear the night we talked about why I didn’t want to go back to that house. If they answer they’ll pull the victim card and be all ‘I can’t believe you guys kept my child from me! Who do I sue?’ before coming to fetch me and berating me all the way back.”

“Listen, I wasn’t going to say anything because I could tell you were upset but you could have at least let them know for both our sakes. Then we could have spent the holidays in a hotel in Boston or something! We didn’t have to stay with them.”

“I knew you were off that night!” You curse the way you’ve managed to read him. “Anyways, with what money? To do what?”

“I don’t-, I don’t know… we could have figured it out.”

“I can’t believe you're getting mad at my decision.”

“It’s a pretty selfish one,” his eyes widened like he couldn't believe the words that came out of his mouth.

You gasp and hit him harshly at his side. “Ow!” he yelps.

“You’re being an asshole right now. I’ve never been madder at you in my entire life.”

“Really? What about that time I spilled mashed potatoes all over your dress? Your face was beet red,” he mocks.

You go to swat at him again only for him to dodge you. You try once more and fail, almost falling onto the floor but stopping yourself by putting your hand on the nearest wall. If you weren’t so angry this would have reminded you of the times you would wrestle when you were eight. Especially now and the way he holds you back by putting his hand on your forehead to keep you at arm's length. You give up with a huff and you b-line to your room.

“Tell Mr. Hunham I won't be at dinner tonight!”

You hear him groan behind the door you slammed shut and then the sound of his footsteps fading. In your solitude you collapse on the bed, letting out a scream into your pillow. Even though it's muffled, you hope Angus can feel it from where he is. That it reaches him and causes goosebumps to arise all over his stupidly long arms. …

You had skipped out on dinner like you said you would. Although Mr. Hunham had been polite enough to bring a plate down to the infirmary. As he handed it to you, he said lowly, “I’m not sure what that little deviant did, but I’m sure it's related to his foul mood and your absence tonight. Let me know if I can do anything.”

You almost wanted to cry at his politeness. Later he invited you to the kitchen common room and claimed there was a TV there. Considering you had only stared at words on a page for the last few days, you jumped at the offer. You saw Mary there and to your displeasure Angus had been forced to tag along so that Mr. Hunham could supervise him.

Your eyes were glued to the television, not letting Angus’s burning stare get the best of you. They were watching “The Newlywed Game” and drinking from mugs. It was not half-bad. In fact, it was starting to get pretty good to see these couples have their relationship crushed within a thirty-minute runtime with ad breaks in between.

The boy had begun throwing pieces of balled up paper at you and you picked them off your hair and tried your damnedest to not pay him any mind. You could hear him tear a new page from that magazine of his and finally you snapped at him. “Will you stop it? You’re wasting paper.”

“Thank God. You’re talking to me,” he stood straighter in his seat. “Here's the thing, I'm sorry. I should have never said that you were selfish. Cause you’re like, not. You’re honestly the most unselfish person I know.”

“I don’t want your apology right now. I’m watching TV.”

“I just got caught up in the moment is all. The truth is that-.”

“Angus, I said I don’t want to hear it!” You raised your voice loud enough to catch the attention of both Mr. Hunham and Mary.

“Everything alright back there?” Hunham takes the pipe out of his mouth to ask.

You get up, brushing invisible dust off your skirt. “Can I be excused. I’m pretty tired.”

“That’ll be fine.”

“Thank you,” You pick up your discarded book from the nearby coffee table before leaning down and whispering in Angus' ear, “Don't follow me.”

As you stomp away you hear Mary say, “We need to get those two onto this program. Win us a trip to Bermuda.”

Mr. Hunham lets out a suppressed chuckle, embracing it soon after along with Mary. You roll your eyes at the pair and their drunkenness. You’re comforted by the fact that they’ll have a big headache tomorrow. …

You’re shaken at a frantic rate. You went to sleep early but were awoken now by a mischievous looking Angus. He dangles a set of keys right in front of your face.

“What are you doing?” You squint under the harsh glare of the flashlight.

“Inviting you on a night of adventure. Walleye is completely blacked out. He won’t even notice us gone.”

“No thank you,” you turn away from him and drape your blanket over your head. He tugs it back down.

“Come on. Please?”

“I’m still not in the mood. Plus, now I’m tired.”

“Y/n,” he whines.

“If you find a cookie in a pantry somewhere you know what to do,” you murmur, already being lulled back to sleep by the warmth you feel under the covers.

“Y/n,” he says more seriously, “I am sorry.”

“I know,” you sigh. Maybe you had been too harsh. You prop yourself up on your elbows, “It’ll be better tomorrow. We will talk then.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

He embraces you tightly in a hug. As he parts away, you two are face to face. You’re able to notice his eyes gleam under the light of the moon. You wonder when his eyes got to be that dark of a brown. Those same eyes flicker to your lips. You stare at him wearily as he clears his throat, scratching the back of his neck. He walks backwards to leave, his back bumping into a nearby lamp. “Shit. Sorry. Uh, goodnight. Bye.”

You were probably disorientated. Sleep deprived most definitely. Or maybe that secondhand smoke finally got to you. Surely you were just seeing things. Because surely, your best friend hadn’t just looked at you the way songs and books always seemed to describe love.

a/n: Thanks again for reading! Just to clarify some things, obviously Y/n knows about Angus’s dad, but just like in the movie, he doesn’t let it show how much it affects him. That’s why Y/n is unaware of why Boston is such a big deal. Anyways bye :)) until next time. Let me know your thoughts.

[batfambrainrotbeloved]

Hi! Um, I'm bad at communicating. Just wanted to ask you- because maybe you know?

I want to do multiple chapters- because it's probably gonna be too long for only 1- but I don't know if people usually prefer shorter or longer chapters- so uh- any advice?

I'll probably either update regularly or way too soon cuz I plan on writing everything and only posting it when I'm done- so even if it's short there will be more-

So. Um. Yeah. Help me please?

I am a chronically long chapter bitch- but thats because its part of my writing style, for me? I struggle to condense a whole "Act"/ "Arc" in more than like 5k

Now something my english teacher drilled into my tiny malformed skull was "Write however many words the story needs to have" I have like 17 consequtive plotlines and an entire closet of yet to be loaded Chekov's guns- so for ME, the 5k is nessicary to keep things rolling.

HOWEVER- That isn't very sustainable for most people. I'd say a good chapter length is, generally this guide is what I see that WORKS for pacing, engagement, etc. (personal preference as well)

Less than 1k Total? Try one chapter, but if not? Two MAX

Around 1k Total? One to Three-ish max

2-10k? Around Two to Ten ish.

10-20k? At least two, up to like 15

20k+? At least two, up to 25

50k+? At least like three-five, can be up to 60

100k+? At least ten, or like 200 (though less is better at bigger numbers)

Again- most of this is my personal preference, everyone has their niche they enjoy. But if you want my advice, cut off whenever a chapter feels "complete" like a day is finished. (Exception being cliffhangers, but those should be saved for that exact reason so they're that much more impactful)

Id say rule of thumb is make sure each chapter does SOMETHING. I usually base my chapters chronologically over a set event. An entire event will be at least one chapter, if not up to three depending on all that needs to happen.

[tao-lay]

me listening to succession while i work because i cant wait to write when ive timed off and 

im like: oh wow its the second season the season where it aches the most to baby kendall

but then?! : hurt and comfort in mythical royco????

literally me rn????

might as well add more tags in the ao3 god that feels awful is there some kind of taboo thing where u add more tags in an ao3 fic as you write the chapters bc thats what im doing

no but linkypoo giving kenny lil kisses and telling him everything is gonna be okay after the latter had a shitty day (read regular day) at work? :( please :(

AND PLEASE NOT ME ALSO GETTING SO EXCITED TO WRITE MORE RHETTXROMAN? rhoman?? rhemulus? lmao

[wild-karrde]

One Step at a Time - Part 8

Master List | Previous Part | Next Part

A/N: I know I've been taking forever with these updates, but HERE IS A NEW PART!! I really struggled with this chapter, but it kind of finally came together this week while I had time to dedicate time to it, and I am VERY excited about where this story is going. As always, thank you to the wonderful @teletraan-meets-jarvis for beta-reading for me!

Chapter Rating: T

Warnings: grief, angry Nita

Word Count: 5k words

Click. Click. Click.

The pilot’s chair creaked as Chuckles shifted, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees. The blaster was back in his hands, and he was flipping the stun setting on and off again, his mind reflecting on the freshest losses.

It just never ends.

His thumb moved over the button.

Click. Click. Click.

His chest tightened.

At least Ry and Oks are still alive. I hope. 

He shook his head. 

Nah, worst case they’re in jail because Ry got in a fight with one of them and Oks had to pull her off. Yeah. 

He huffed a mirthless laugh before succumbing to his emotions. His vision blurred, and his eyes stung. He’d kept his tears of frustration, anger, and grief at bay the entire flight out to the nebula. Now, the familiar pink cloud and starfield sprawled out in front of him, silent as ever. It didn’t bring its normal comfort, instead seemingly reminding of everything he’d lost. He huffed a sigh, wiping at his eyes with the heel of his unoccupied hand.

Click. Click. Click.

Nita had gone to bed, mumbling that she wasn’t hungry. 

She’s never not hungry. That kid eats more than a battalion. 

The little Pantoran had hardly met his eyes since the moment he’d told her he was ripping her away from Sorgan, from a life that she’d started to rebuild, from a home. He knew it had been the right call, but that did little to assuage the guilt gnawing at his insides.

No kids should have to go through this. There’s been so much loss. So much death.

Arni at least seemed to understand why they’d left. They’d helped him navigate back to the nebula, quiet as ever, but he hadn’t missed the way their eyes grew distant as they stared at the viewport, or the occasional sniffling. They hadn’t said anything about it though. 

Click.

He stared down at the blaster in his hands.

And I’ve been the cause of a lot of it. I’ve been the one to take them from every home they’ve ever known. People that looked like me killed their friends. It… it’s all been me.

The grief hit Chuckles like a speeder, punching the air from his lungs.

Dammit.

He shuddered as he tried to contain the emotions threatening to overwhelm him, but his vision blurred again as the tears came anyway. Digging his teeth into his lip to try and keep the emotions at bay, he exhaled sharp, shuddering breaths through his nose. He wiped at his eyes in frustration, but that only seemed to bring him closer to the brink of breaking. Leaning forward, he buried his face in his hands and unleashed a shuddering sob. 

I can’t do this. I can’t. 

His thoughts returned to the clones he’d shot that day, and the faces of his brothers flashed through his mind.

I wonder what they looked like under their helmets. Did they have tattoos? Scars? Weird haircuts? Whose batchmates were they?

His body shook with silent sobs. He covered his mouth with his hand to stifle his whimpers.

Did they know what was happening? In their minds, were they still them somewhere in there?

Click. Click. Click.

That would be even more awful, I think. Knowing what you were doing, but being helpless to stop it.

“Chuckles?” Arni’s voice was quiet, but sounded deafening in the silence around him, and Chuckles jumped. He whirled on the young Twi’lek, who shrank back at first before their face softened. He tried to throw the blanket over the DC-17 in his hand, but Arni’s brown eyes flicked to it before moving back to study his face.

“What is it kid?” he rasped, hurriedly trying to wipe the tears from his face. “What’s up?”

Arni quietly came around to stand in front of him. “What are you doing?”

“Just… uh… just really trying to build up a tolerance for those spicy snacks of yours.” He let out a dry, shuddering laugh. “Just can’t seem to do it though, dammit.”

It was a terrible lie, and they both knew it. Arni had watched Chuckles carefully all through dinner, and it had broken the clone pilot knowing what was going through the youngling’s mind.

They don’t want me to know they’re hurting too. They’re trying to fix it. It’s nothing that they’ve broken, but even after everything, they worry about Nita and me more than themself.

Chuckles couldn’t meet the young Twi’lek’s eyes, running his hand through his mohawk.

Probably need to shave that off again. Back to hiding.

Arni observed him for another few seconds before stepping forward, pulling the blanket back to reveal the sidearm. They reached for the gun, trying to pull it from Chuckles’s grasp, but the pilot tightened his grip on it.

“Kid-“

“The deal was that you take care of us, and I take care of you. And that you’d let me. We promised,” they said quietly. The birthmark on their cheek twitched as they chewed the inside of their cheek, watching Chuckles for a moment before reaching for the DC-17 again. “Let me see it. Please.” They tugged at the blaster once more, and this time, Chuck relented, the cool metal slipping from his fingertips as Arni took it, studying it intently.

“Why do you sit up with this at night?” they asked. “This isn’t the first time. You stopped doing it on Sorgan, but I could hear it clicking the first few weeks when you’d stay up.” They rubbed their thumb over the weapon before clicking the stun setting off and then back on. “That’s what you’re doing, right? Clicking between the modes?”

Chuckles couldn’t help but feel like a cadet caught fooling with something he shouldn’t be. His tongue felt like lead, so he just nodded wordlessly.

“Did you mean to kill them that day?” Arni’s voice was soft, but the words still felt like a knife in Chuck’s chest. He and the two younglings had largely managed to avoid talking about that day, as if not speaking about it would make it less real. If he was honest, he still wasn’t sure how to talk about it, and while he hoped the inhibitor chip rumor was true in some part of him, the implications that came with that chilled him. The chip’s existence might absolve his brothers, but  it turned his stomach to think that they’d been forced to kill those most loyal to them, to turn their blasters on younglings like Nita and Arni. He’d been around the temple enough to know that there were Jedi there younger than Nita. He couldn’t stomach the thought of what had happened to them.

“No,” he managed to croak out. “I didn’t. I… I just wanted to keep you and Nita safe. I didn’t know what was happening, but I wasn’t going to let them hurt you.”

Arni nodded, their eyes studying the blaster intently. “I heard you try to set it to stun,” they stated, turning the weapon over in their hands before pulling a screwdriver out of one of their many pouches along their belt. They began fiddling with a small maintenance panel just below the mode switch, and in a few more seconds, they slipped the cover loose, deftly swapping the screwdriver for a small penlight from a different pouch. Plopping down on the floor of the ship, they balanced the blaster between their knees and began to probe at the wires inside.

“What are you doing kid?”

Arni said nothing for a moment, their tongue poking out of the corner of their mouth as they prodded at a few specific wires. Chuck knew better than to ask again; the young Twi’lek easily got absorbed in their work and would answer when they were ready. After a few moments, Arni appeared to confirm something, sighing deeply before finally turning to meet Chuckles’s eyes.

“How old is this blaster?”

Chuckles’s brow furrowed at the question. “Dunno. Probably three years.”

“You didn’t get a new one in the last year or so?” 

“No.” 

Arni nodded, their tongue wetting their lips before they met Chuck’s gaze. “Did you know that a common defect with the first generation DC-17s is that their mode settings sometimes fail?”

Chuck stared at them, his mind not comprehending.

“No. But…”

It clicked into place in his mind. His eyes widened. Arni gave him a small smile.

“The wiring gets stressed a lot on that particular solder joint. I think I read somewhere seventeen percent of the weapons see a failure where they get stuck on their default mode, which is kill. It rarely gets noticed or reported because most soldiers only keep their weapons set to kill, so the occurrences may even be higher than that. They fixed it in later models, but you never had a reason to ask for a different sidearm. You would only have ever used it in an emergency where your ship was downed and you survived. So pilots probably weren’t prioritized when the newer DC-17s came out.” They held the gun out to Chuck, pulling a pair of wires loose and showing him what they’d found. He could see the remnants of the solder joint stuck to the conducting material of the wires. “You didn’t kill them. Your blaster failed, but it wasn’t your fault.”

Chuckles took the faulty weapon from Arni, running through what the young Twi’lek had said over and over.

It wasn’t your fault. You didn’t kill them. It wasn’t your fault.

The blaster clattered to the ground in front of the clone pilot, and he buried his face in his hands, letting the sobs and tears come freely.

It wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t your fault.

It’s not your fault.

He felt Arni place a hand on his shoulder, and without thinking, he slipped out of the chair and onto his knees, wrapping the Twi’lek up in a tight hug. Arni hugged him back, their thin fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt. After a few minutes, Chuckles managed to get his emotions back under control, sitting back on his heels and wiping at his eyes. Arni didn’t move, standing in front of him and watching.

“Are you alright?” they asked quietly, their voice hopeful. “Did that help?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m better now, kid.” Chuckles took a deep breath of air, holding it for a second before letting it out in a gradual exhale. It was the lightest he’d felt since he’d stood under the tree at the temple. He let out a quiet laugh.

“What is it?” Arni asked hesitantly.

Chuckles leaned forward, placing his hands on the young Twi’lek’s shoulders. “If I hadn’t met you kids, I still may have had to shoot my way out. I may have lived with that guilt forever. So thank you, Arni. For telling me that.” 

Arni nodded, smiling. After a moment, they hesitantly sat down next to Chuckles, who shifted so he was sitting on his rear, stretching his legs out in front of him. The two of them stared out at the nebula for a while before Arni spoke again. 

“Nita isn’t angry at you. She’s just sad.” 

“I know,” Chuckles replied. “Been there myself. I get that she’s just sad and I’m the closest target. And that’s ok.” 

“She’ll come around.” 

“I don’t know, she’s awfully stubborn.” 

Arni giggled quietly. “She is. It’s just… a lot. It was simple when we were at the temple. We knew what our lives were going to look like. Now, everything is different. We don’t know what’s going to happen.” They looked over at him. “Did you ever know what you were going to do after the war?” 

Chuck leaned back on his palms. “Honestly kid, I wasn’t sure I was going to be around at the end of the war. I lost so many brothers, I always just kind of figured I’d go out in a blaze of glory and take as many clankers with me as I could.”

“That’s sad.”

Chuckles shrugged. “I’m happy to be surprised.” 

Arni leaned against his shoulder, their lekku draping over his arm as they wrapped their arms around his bicep. “I’m happy you’re here too.” 

A short while later, Chuckles felt Arni’s breathing even out as they started to snore quietly on his shoulder. Carefully, he scooped up the young Twi’lek, carrying them back to the bunk. Nudging the sliding door open with his hip, he held his breath, hoping Nita wouldn’t wake. He was relieved to see the deep rise and fall of the tiny Pantoran’s back in the far side of the bunk not be interrupted as she continued to quietly snore undisturbed. Gently, he laid Arni down, pulling the blanket up and over their shoulders. They stirred but didn’t wake, and for a moment, Chuckles leaned against the bunk’s frame, watching the two younglings. 

This is my family now. I’m lucky to have them. 

And wherever they are, that’s my home. 

—

The next day, Nita’s demeanor still hadn’t thawed. Her hunger at least got the better of her. She tromped into the kitchenette while Arni and Chuckles were eating, wordlessly grabbed her favorite bag of snacks, and disappeared back into the bunk. 

“Aww no,” Arni muttered. 

“She’ll come around,” Chuckles tried to reassure.

“No, it’s not that. She’s gonna get those crumbs everywhere in the bed.” 

Chuckles snorted into his food. 

Arni and Chuck spent the day combing through star charts and news holos to try and pick a new planet to settle on. They had enough food for another standard week since they’d just stocked up when the Imperials had arrived on Sorgan, but Chuckles was eager to move on and start over. He hoped that sunlight and dirt under Nita’s feet would help bring her back around. 

They’d narrowed it down to a few candidates by dinner time, and Chuckles and Arni talked through them as they prepared another noodle dish with some of the fresh vegetables and meat they had onboard. They’d both agreed it would be better to work through the perishables first and leave the preserved food in case they had to lie low for longer. 

“I think Lothal is our best bet,” Arni stated evenly, stirring the boiling pot of noodles and occasionally prodding them to check for their tenderness. 

“Why’s that?” Chuckles asked. He also had come to the same conclusion but was interested in hearing Arni’s reasoning. The young Twi’lek sometimes surprised him with how their mind worked. 

“Well, first off, Lothal really didn’t see any action during the war, so not many people out there probably know what a clone looks like. That adds some safety for you.” 

“True.” 

“Also, Lothal had a lot of problems during the war. Drought, famine, collapse of certain industries. But from everything I’ve seen in the news holos we were looking at, it seems like the Empire is wanting to fix those things. That’s gonna take a lot of work. And that means jobs, which means you can find work pretty easily.” 

“But is it the kind of work I can do? We both know I’m talented, but only at two things.” 

“What’s the other?” Arni asked innocently. 

“Uhhh… nevermind. What job do you think I should take?” 

“There seems to be a lot of job postings at some of the mining facilities.” Arni appraised him for a moment. “You don’t seem to be someone that would like farming.”

Chuckles paused, turning to look down at Arni. The Twi’lek was focused on their task. 

“Thanks… I think,” Chuckles mumbled. 

Whether due to the smell or just being tired of eating from the same bag of snacks, Nita emerged from her hiding place in the bunk. Chuckles and Arni watched her as she went and got her bowl, offering it up to Chuckles to fill with food. Chuck obliged, and she carried it to the bench, sitting down and quietly beginning to eat. Arni caught Chuck’s eye, and he shook his head subtly. 

She’s got to come out of it on her own. 

The other two filled their bowls and sat down to eat as well. For a while, the only sound was the soft whooshing of them blowing on their noodles to cool them down and then subsequently slurping them. When it became obvious the contents of Nita’s bowl was dwindling, Chuckles sighed, looking over at Arni and giving them a jerk of his head. Arni took the hint, sliding off the bench and depositing their dishes on the counter before slinking back towards the forward end of the ship.

Nita and Chuckles sat silently for several moments. She refused to meet his gaze, just continuing to move the remnants of her noodles back and forth across the bottom of her bowl, her head resting heavily on her hand. 

“You gonna eat that or just play with it?” he asked, gently trying a joke out. 

Nita glared at him before aggressively shoveling the remnants into her mouth and wiping her lips on the back of her hand. She grabbed her empty bowl, hopping down from the bench to place it next to Arni’s on the counter. Chuckles waited and watched as she put it up before stomping away. He sighed, running his fingers over his mohawk and gently tugging on the ends in frustration.  

Alright. Try again in a bit. 

He’d made one more attempt before the younglings turned in for the night, but Nita slammed the door to the bunk shut in his face. Chuck rested his forehead against the outside of it, sighing deeply. Arni, who had made themself scarce since the end of dinner, suddenly was at his elbow, resting their hand on his shoulder. 

“She doesn’t understand. She’ll come around,” they attempted to reassure him.

Chuck sighed again. “I think the problem is she understands too well, kid. She’s coming to terms with the fact that this is the life we’re going to have for the foreseeable future, and as much as we may hate it, there’s nothing we can do to change it.” 

Arni nodded but said nothing. 

The two of them returned to the kitchenette, cleaning their bowls and utensils before Chuckles ushered Arni off to the bunk. They knocked softly, murmuring through the door, which cracked open enough to allow them inside before slamming back shut. Chuck winced at the sound of the metal clanging back into place, rubbing the back of his neck. 

Give her time. 

He shrugged out of his jacket and kicked off his boots, eyeing the pull down bunk before opting for the pilot’s chair again. While the bunk was nice most nights, the pilot’s chair always seemed to be the better option when he had something weighing on his mind. Grabbing the folded blanket from where he kept it stashed, he wrapped it around his shoulders and plunked down into the chair, resting his heels on the ship’s control panel. His eyes traced along the swirls of the nebula as he counted each of the stars for his fallen brothers. 

Crater… Stones… Arrow… Kilo…

The names went on and on. He started to wonder how many more there were now to count, how many more had died in the end. He picked out one with a blueish-green hue in one dimmer corner of a cloud, dedicating it to a brother whose fate he didn’t know.

Howzer. 

Next, he found a white one that shone brightly, occasionally twinkling in the distance. 

Wolffe. 

He ticked through his list, choosing stars for every brother he didn’t know. Just in case. 

Might be nice to talk to them. They’re lost to me now. But maybe someday, it’ll get better.

He fell asleep still looking. 

— 

Chuckles awoke with a start, the dreams of purple eyes, kind smiles, and signing hands leaving him to where he could only remember traces. He scrubbed his hands over his face in the dim cockpit before grounding himself in the nebula.

They’re safe. I’m sure they’re safe.

Glancing at the chrono, he realized it was nearly morning by Sorgan’s standards. 

Still acclimated. Surely that won’t last long. Normally I’d be going to work now. At Ry and Oks’s.

He shook loose some of the tension in his shoulders, trying to discard the worries he harbored for his two friends. His bladder was uncomfortably full, and he pushed himself to his feet, wincing at the popping of his joints as he hobbled to the ship’s small ‘fresher. After relieving himself and washing his hands and face, he glanced at his reflection in the mirror. Dark circles made his eyes appear more sunken. He knew his sleep had been fitful, and the chair hadn’t seemed as comfortable as it had in the past. He’d spent hours trying to figure out new approaches to try with Nita, and ultimately had come up empty. When he had drifted off, he’d only had nightmares, most of which he couldn’t remember now, but he did know they’d woken him in a cold sweat. 

At least the last one was nice. I think. 

Rolling his head, he heard several loud pops as his joints protested. A few days worth of scruff coated his cheeks, and he ran his hands along it before his eyes fell on the mohawk on top of his head. The faded blue color seemed almost vibrant in the ‘fresher’s dim lighting, and he remembered the day they’d dyed it. His chest tightened at the memory, but this time he managed to push down the emotions and worries that followed. He sighed, retrieving the clippers from their drawer and powering them on, running his fingers through his hair one last time. 

Time to go back into hiding. 

“What are you doing?” 

He whirled to find Nita standing behind him, bleary-eyed and clutching her trooper doll. Her eyebrows were knitted together in a scowl as she stared at Chuckles accusingly. He stared back, afraid of saying the wrong thing and sending her retreating back into the bunk and her silence. He once again felt like he’d been caught doing something wrong, and he fought the urge to hide the clippers behind his back. He clicked them off, swallowing hard. 

“I… uh… I figured I should change it.”

“Why?” The question seemed searing, even coming from a five-year-old. 

“I stand out with it,” he said firmly. “Draw attention.” 

“There are lots of people in the galaxy with funny hair,” Nita countered evenly. 

“That’s true, but not all of them are hiding.” 

“Maybe no one’s looking for us.” 

Chuckles paused, pondering that statement. “That may be true,” he said slowly. “But my face is pretty recognizable.”

“Not everywhere.” She crossed her arms. “I heard you and Arni talking about Lothal. You said that no clones went there during the war. They don’t know what your face looks like.” 

Chuckles did his best to stifle his smile. 

So she was listening.

“They may not,” he conceded. 

“Plus your hair is different from what most clones do.”

“That’s also true.”

Nita nodded firmly, clearly considering the matter settled. “Good. When do we leave for Lothal?”

“We can go whenever.” 

“Alright. Now would you move? I need to pee.” 

Chuckles stepped aside, still watching her carefully as she walked past him, shutting the door behind her. A soft giggle from the bunk drew his attention, and he turned to find Arni watching him, their hands over their mouth to stifle their laugh. 

“Well, I guess that’s that,” Chuck said, grinning. 

“Yeah. Guess so,” the agreed. “Told you she’d come around. And for what it’s worth, I think you should keep your hair too.” 

Chuckles realized he was still holding the clippers. Reflexively, he ran his hand through his hair again. “Guess I’m keeping it then.” 

—

A few hours later, Chuckles eased the ship into hyperspace with Arni’s help on the navicomputer. The blue and white streaks brought him a certain amount of comfort. 

Maybe it’s because it’s a path forward. Always did hate stalling out. 

He glanced over at his young co-pilot, who gave him a small smile. 

“You’re getting good at working that nav equipment,” he commented. 

Arni shrugged. “It’s not terribly complicated. Simpler than even your Z-95.” 

Chuckles wrinkled his nose, but then he noticed the corner of Arni’s mouth twitched, and he realized his normally stoic co-pilot had made a joke, and they were watching him carefully to see how it landed. He growled playfully, leaning over to wrap an arm around the young Twi’lek’s head, ruffling their lekku gently. Arni giggled loudly, struggling in Chuck’s grip. 

“Alright, that’s enough out of you,” he joked, releasing Arni and crossing their lekku over their eyes. Arni guffawed as they regained their breath, replacing their lekku and straightening their headgear. The smile they wore was the widest one Chuckles had seen from them in a while. He hoped the joking was just the beginning of Arni growing more comfortable around him. They’d been slow to come out of their shell on Sorgan, but as he’d expressed interest in their sketches and journals, he’d found them opening up, even making a few jokes here or there that occasionally went over his head. This one had been right on the money though, and it reminded him of his banter with his brothers. 

He glanced over his shoulder to where Nita was laying on the floor of the ship, her feet propped up in the air as she played with her trooper doll. Meeting Arni’s gaze, he jerked his head towards the rear of the ship. 

“Family meeting.”

They hadn’t had many of those, the first one being after Chuckles had fended off Broog to talk through what to do in an emergency. Arni’s brows furrowed slightly, but they nodded, hopping out of the co-pilot seat and heading for the dining area. Chuck had declared that the meeting spot so that he could look at both of them at the same time and have their undivided attention. Standing, Chuck strode over to Nita and looked down at her. “That means you too, honey.”

Nita still wasn’t speaking to him fully, but he could sense some of her hostility had thawed. She nodded wordlessly, pushing herself to her feet and heading towards the back of the ship. Chuck resisted the urge to scoop her up, not wanting to push her too much just yet. 

After both younglings were seated at the table and paying attention, Chuckles inhaled deeply, suddenly nervous. The idea had come to him earlier, and he’d been formulating the speech ever since. 

“So… I know the last few days have been hard. Leaving Sorgan was not something any of us wanted to do. It feels like we’re losing a home again, and I’m sorry it happened.” Nita’s gaze fell to her lap. Arni swallowed hard. Chuck pressed forwards. “We’re headed to Lothal now, but the reality is that we’re probably not going to stay there forever. In order to keep ourselves safe, we have to be careful, and when things get too risky, we have to move on.” 

Both younglings nodded, but he could see they both already understood that. It didn’t keep their shoulders from noticeably drooping. 

“But, that doesn’t mean we don’t have a home.” He patted the wall next to him, making a dull thud sound with the palm of his hand. “This ship is going to have to go with us wherever we go, so I think we should make it our home for now. So I think we should name it.” 

“Doesn’t it already have a name?” Nita asked. 

“It’s not a good one,” Arni replied. 

“What is it?” Chuck was genuinely curious. 

“It roughly translates to ‘Gas of a Comet’, but it sounds less nice,” Arni stated, trying to keep a straight face. “I found it when we were scrambling the ship’s signature.”

“So… it’s named ‘Comet Farts’?” Nita giggled. 

Arni’s face split into a massive grin, creasing the birthmark on your cheek. “Kinda.” 

Chuck snorted, trying to remain serious. “Alright, well clearly that can’t stand. So what do we want to call our home?” 

Arni leaned over, whispering conspiratorially for a bit to Nita, who listened very seriously before cupping her hand and providing her input. Chuck stared at the ceiling as the two younglings deliberated. He wanted this to be their decision, something that would make it feel most like home to them. 

As long as it doesn’t actually contain the word ‘fart.’

After a few minutes, Nita and Arni appeared to reach an agreement. Arni nodded, and Nita delivered the verdict. 

“Starlight.”

Chuck grinned. “Like our family name?” 

“No one knows it’s our family name since Ayyshu is technically a combination of two languages,” Arni countered. “And the stars have kind of become our family thing. Chirrut talked about how starlight is used as a guide, and we think that’s kind of fitting for the thing carrying us from place to place.”  

Chuck pretended to mull it over for a moment before nodding. “Alright. I’ll need you to program that into the ship’s credentials, Arni. But Starlight it is.” 

The two younglings grinned, but after a moment, Nita’s face suddenly grew a little serious, as if a sudden thought had occurred to her. “What if we lose the ship?” she asked quietly. 

Damn. 

It wasn’t as though he hadn’t anticipated the question; he had just hoped it wouldn’t be asked immediately. Chuckles reached across the table. “Then we’ll find a new one.” He extended his pinkies towards both of them. “But whenever that happens and whatever it is, it’ll be home because we’re all together. We’ll make this ship our base, but at the end of the day, a home is a home because of the people in it. We could live in a hole in the ground or in the heart of an asteroid, but no matter what, you two are my home. Got it?” 

The two younglings looked at each other, and something unspoken passed between them. Arni reached over, taking Nita’s hand in theirs before locking their thin, blue pinky with Chuckles’s. Nita scooted to the edge of her seat, reaching forward to do the same with his other hand. He gently squeezed both of their fingers in his, making a wordless promise they all understood. 

Nita nodded decisively, speaking for both her and Arni. 

“Got it.” 

Tag List: @seriowan @partoftheeternalsoul @rosmariner @misogirl828 @ellichonkasaurusrex @zoeykallus @the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond @gjrain20-starwars @staycalmandhugaclone @redheadgirl @fordo-kixed-rex @wizardofrozz @ariadnes-red-thread @extrahotpixels @justanothersadperson93 @leftealeaf @obihiddlenox @meekaielmyerhs99 @kaminocasey @moonstrider9904 @rain-on-kamino @ladykatakuri @sleepingsun501 @arctrooper69

[queerofthedagger]

first line game

rules: list the first line of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all!). see if there are any patterns, choose your favourite opening line, and then tag 10 of your favourite authors!

Thank you for the tag @marshmallowmcgonagall ❤️

1. No Hands Had Ever Been So Gentle, Nor So Deadly [Merlin/Arthur, Teen, 3,4k]

The castle, when Merlin finds it, is more ruins than intact walls, crumbling stone arcs overgrown with ivy washed in orange and purple from the setting sun.

2. Battered and Wrecked, I Come to You First [Merlin/Arthur, Teen, 10k]

Arthur is lying in bed, a steaming mug of tea next to him and his well-worn copy of War and Peace leaning heavily against his legs.

3. these quiet nights [Merlin/Arthur, Teen, 1,5k]

The sound of the key in the front door floats to where Arthur is standing in the kitchen, and he curses softly to himself.

4. Dredged Up Secrets, Starry Nights [Merlin/Arthur, Teen, 22k]

“This is all your fault,” Merlin pants, and of course he’d still complain even as he’s running from danger and struggling for air.

5. Call Me Icarus [Merlin/Arthur, Gen, 500]

You always were a bit brighter than everything else, a little more intense, more captivating, just more.

6. Not Anymore [Regulus/James, Teen, 1,4k]

It’s freezing cold up on the Astronomy Tower, the wind whipping through the open expanses in the stone and crawling its way underneath the layers of clothes.

7. To Bare Our Teeth and Our Hearts [Merlin/Arthur, M, 124k]

Arthur urges his horse into a trot, ignoring the questioning looks from his knights until they simply follow his lead.

8. Love Me Like My Demons Do [Sirius/James, E, 130k]

The front door hits the wall with a bang before falling shut, and James only just catches the bag of groceries from toppling out of his arms as he toes off his shoes.

9. Chapter Five - Spilling Secrets [Merlin/Arthur, Gen, 2k]

“You’re supposed to be asleep,” Merlin blurts, and yes, alright, he can admit that on the list of things he should be focusing on right now, that one’s probably on the very bottom.

10. or maybe you were the ocean (when I was just a stone) [James/Sirius, Teen, 5,7k]

Dear “younger self,”

I would never write this if I wasn’t going to die tomorrow, but there is a strange urge to acknowledge everything in a place outside my own head, and this seems the easiest way.

11. everybody needs a place (will you always be mine?) [Merlin/Arthur, M, 2,7k]

Arthur hears the silent click of the door but doesn't raise his head from where it's resting on the table.

12. fate rests heavily on our shoulders (but I'd carry it all for you) [Merlin/Arthur, Teen, 7k]

Arthur’s head is pounding fiercely when he regains consciousness, but the memories as of why are sharp and painful.

13. The Consequences of Keeping Secrets [Merlin/Arthur, Teen, 1,3k]

It’s threatening to become a familiar scene; Arthur and Merlin standing opposite each other in Arthur’s chamber, shouting with mounting frustration building at every new secret that gets revealed.

14. Free Fall [Merlin/Arthur, Gen, 1,1k]

Merlin’s legs are burning and his breath is coming out in short puffs, little white clouds in the biting winter air, but he doesn’t pay attention to any of it.

15. A Study in Choices and Second Chances [Regulus/Harry, M, 90k]

Dear Sirius,

I don’t know why I’m writing this, why I’m writing to you.

16. Kiss and Run [James/Sirius, E, 2,4k]

“You know, you two could only sit closer if James was actually in your lap,” Lily grins down at them when she returns with another round of beer and shots for all of them.

17. You Can't Always Get What You Want [Harry/Tom, Teen, 1,5k]

Tom stares in confusion as the smoke dissipates and a figure is revealed, curled in on itself and breathing harshly.

18. Unforseen Consequences [Harry/Voldemort, Teen, 4,8k]

Severus‘ mark is burning and despite the noise and chaos of the battle that’s raging on all around him, it’s close to impossible to ignore the sharp, twisting pain.

19. Head In The Clouds [James/Sirius, Teen, 5k]

“I love you.“ It’s a lazy, soft murmur, the words falling from James’ lips without any intention or plan whatsoever.

20. Like You Mean It [James/Regulus, Teen, 7,1k]

Regulus is going to kill Sirius, he thinks, weaving his way through the throng of people clustering the shady bar his brother dragged him to, narrowly avoiding getting drinks spilled on his shirt.

I definitely like to jump right into the action, although there also are a few where I tried to set the atmosphere for the fic with the first line. For Merlin fics, I definitely tend to write from Arthur's pov (I know this but... yeah.) As for favourites - I really, really can't. I'm fond of them all in one way or another. Though if I have to... I really like the opening line for "Dredged Up Secrets, Starry Nights," because I feel it sums up their dynamic pretty well. I also love the one for "A Study in Choices and Second Chances," for similar reasons and because it sets the tone for the fic. But yeah, it's near-impossible for me to sort them in any way.

I have no idea who has already done this, and no pressure of course (and if you haven't been tagged but would like to do it, consider this your tag!) @atlantablack @wynnefic @kitastrophea @being-luminous @seadeepy @aeonthedimensionalgirl @agendertonks @acciomeriin @unmarkedinlife @messandahalf10

[jiminwreckedme]

Fragments

| 1 | 2 | 3 | Chapter 4 

Member - Yoongi x reader

Word count - 6K I have absolutely lost my ability to write below 5K

Summary - In a world where humanity was overruled by science, where everything not ordinary was shunned, where sympathy was an abstract concept, you found him. He, who was extraordinary in a way the world could never see. He, who did not want to become who the world wanted him to be. He, who was called Min Yoongi.

But your job? You job was to break him. To make him into something more ‘decent’ from the ‘unwanted creature’ he was seen as. Your job was to make him fall before what the world wanted. Not fall for him yourself.

But you see, human nature is funny.

It does exactly what it’s not supposed to.

“What?” You slammed your hand on the table, looking at your chief incredulously.

“I'm sorry Allev. Orders are orders. You-”

“No, what the actual fuck?”

“Language Allev.” He chided hissing between his teeth.

“Fuck language. Do you even know what you are saying? This is my patient you are talking about. MY patient. And I have a lot to say about this. Lots of words and lots of language. First of all tell me, what exactly gives them the right to take my patient away?”

“It's the military and-”

“Exactly!” You pointed out. “Exactly. They are the military. Their job is to safeguard the country. Ask them to go do that.  Why are they interfering with my work? What makes them think that I will keep quiet as they take away my patient?”

“You just said it Allev. Their job is to keep the country safe. And that is why they are taking away the three frag. He's dangerous-” You were so sick of listening to this. Dangerous Min Yoongi, The Threat Min Yoongi, Unpredictable Min Yoongi.

“For God's sake stop saying that. He's not dangerous, you know nothing about him.”

“Really? Tell me something you know.” He rested his chin on his interlocked hands, leaning across the table. “Has he opened up to you yet or are you still in your own happy excited world with the fact that there is a man in this dull, grey compound who fancies you.”

You stutter, taken aback by his argument. “W-what are you talking about?”

“The truth Allev. Do you not see it or are you pretending?” Your chief got up and walked around his table, standing right in front of you. “Everyone in the institute knows how Min Yoongi looks at you. Dreamily, with those fascinated eyes etc etc.”

You blinked rapidly unable to comprehend what to say, making up your arguments fast. “It’s not fascination….it’s...it’s….I don’t know what its called? How would you feel about the one person who treats you like a human when everyone else shuns you? I’m sure it’s nothing more.....” You trailed off, feeling the pressure of his soft lips still lingering on yours. What was it? Did Min Yoongi really look at you with fascination? Was it just fascination? 

“Explain that to the officials at the gate Ms. Y/n.” Your chief shrugged helplessly. “They will enter any minute now and take him away.”

You balled your fists in anger. “Oh yeah, I’ll see how.” 

“Y/n, no, wait!” 

And you turned around ready to storm out and reached for your card in the back pocket of your jeans but you can’t find it. Great, everything had to go wrong at the same time. 

“Open the goddamn door.”

“Well maybe its a sign that you should just wait Y/n, and listen to me, the military is not meant to be messed with-”

“Open the fucking door.” You snarled, the anger in your eyes scaring the man superior to you. “Now.” 

Your chief immediately reached for the button behind him, letting you out as you walked away, ready to give this oh-so-powerful military a piece of your mind. You could hear people whispering around you as you made your way down the corridors, your chief closely following you from behind, and if you heard well enough, he was making some calls as well. That should have caused panic to rise in you. You weren’t messing with just the military but the authority of the institute as well. You could fall in so much trouble for this but somehow you didn’t care. You were going to handle your own patient no matter what. 

Just as you reached the gates, standing there were 5 men, signing into the visitors register as the guard handed out their passes. Visitors. Bullshit. These weren’t visitors, they were violators. Walking up to them you slammed the book shut on the last man’s hand as he filled out his details, making him jump in pain, violently shaking his hand. 

“What the fuck woman?!”

“Exactly Mr.” You peered at the badge pinned to his shirt. “Kim Namjoon-”

“Officer Kim Namjoon.” He corrected you, speaking between his clenched teeth, still clutching his hand in pain.

“Yeah whoever the fuck you are,” You crossed your arms looking at him straight in the eye. “If you are here for Min Yoongi, then I must ask you to leave.”

“If by Min Yoongi you are referring to patient 613 then yes, we are here for him.” He narrowed his eyes at you. “And who are you to stop me?”

“Huh.” You huffed irritably. “Patient 613, you don’t even know his name. He’s nothing but a serial number for you is he officer?” You mocked him, unnecessarily infuriating him more. “If you must know then I am the Alleviator in charge of him. He is my patient and my case to handle. Given that I have certain responsibilities towards him I cannot allow you to take him away.” 

The officer smirked turning to the men behind him, grabbing the paper they were holding out. “I can, in fact, take him away and here are the government orders to do so. It’s an official order Allev.”

Taking the paper from his hands, you quickly read through it and looked up to meet his raised eyebrows and amused face. 

“Well then we have to listen to what the government has to say isn’t it officer.” Holding up the paper you read out loud. “.....permits the states military to take into their possession any patient deemed by the institute as unfit for the society, dangerous, blah, blah, blah....or has not been subjected to the NAT tests by the institute by 21 days of admission.” You flipped the pages of the document, reaching for the copy of Yoongi’s admission papers. “If you can see, according to his date of admission there are still 4 days before the 21 days deadline gets over. Which means if you want to take him away today, its not in your authority I’m afraid.” You shove the papers back into his hands. “It’s an official order officer.” 

Namjoon clutched the papers tightly, narrowing his eyes. “It’s been more than 21 days since Min Yoongi has been in this institute Allev, you know that.”

“Yes but chaining him up and locking him away for 4 days does not count as admission officer. He was only registered as a patient in this institute 17 days ago. Since you like to play by the rules so much, why don’t you follow the official orders?”

The tall man before you let out a short laugh. “You couldn’t get him to budge even an inch for the last 3 weeks, what makes you think you can do it in 4 days Allev?”

“That is none of your concerns officer. But if you really do want an answer then answer me first.” You crossed your arms defiantly. “What makes you think the military can do what we trained professionals weren’t able to do?”

“We are the military Allev, we don’t try to convince and beg the patients like you trained professionals do. We have our own ways.”

“By that you mean by force. You will force the patients to undergo the tests to determine their nature but I hope you do know, if the patient isn’t willing to undergo the tests the results will not be accurate.”

“But they will be an approximate.”

“You don’t have to treat them like they’re not humans if you approximate results officer, as Alleviator I can you give those by simply observing the patient.”

“Oh really,” Namjoon raised his eyebrows, leaning against the wall. “Let’s see then, what do you know about Min Yoongi, approximately?”

“Well if you really must know then there’s 3 sides to him-”

Namjoon rolled his eyes, “Obviously, he’s a 3 frag.” 

Ignoring him you took a deep breath and continued. “- One, where he is emotional and childlike. Or rather I’d say he is scared and vulnerable or feeling less confident about himself. It’s a part of him that’s constantly afraid of the things of his past. Two, where he is angry and impulsive at his highest but I think in general its the part of him that’s determined and dedicated and passionate. It’s moments when he is so driven towards a purpose, he has least control over himself and his actions. And three, which is probably the most confusing one is when he’s silent. He’s mysterious, no one can tell what he’s thinking. At times like this he is always either reading or sleeping or focusing on things that don’t really seem significant to us but may be to him.” 

“And how did you differentiate between all three?” Namjoon shifted, straightening out as he realised you weren’t an idiot when it came to your patients. 

“He has triggers.” You spoke like it was obvious, much to Nmajoon’s confusion. “There is a particular time-” The time every week when his father used to whipped him before taking him to the church. “-that triggers the vulnerable side of him, there’s particular topics-” Any mentions about why he murdered his best friend. “-that seem to trigger his fury.” 

“How do you know at what point which fragment is controlling him?” You watched as Namjoon signaled the officers behind him who immediately began to make notes but continued nevertheless.  

“There are signs. In the way he moves, his body language, his posture. When he is mad, there is a throbbing of a pulse in his temple. He doesn’t like anyone around him, prefers to be left alone and displays more strength that he looks like he capable of. When he is vulnerable his body loses its stiffness and confidence, his shoulders are slouched, his eyes wander everywhere. When he is silent.....” You remember the way his eyes would be staring at you drowning you in his sight. “Well whenever there are neither of these signs it means his third fragment is in power.” 

“And?” All 5 men looked at you expectantly. “Which one is most prominent?” 

You frowned a little at their unnecessary eagerness “I’d say the third one but that doesn’t have to be true. Only the tests can tell that for sure. Approximate answers for that question don’t make any sense.”

“What about his speed?” Namjoon prodded. “How fast can he move? His strength?-”

You looked at him incredulously. “I don’t see how that is necessary to classify him as dangerous or not officer. Besides those are only things stage 1 of the tests can tell. A stage that I feel is absolutely irrelevant in determining his nature.”

Namjoon visibly relaxed, as he laughed a little. “You don’t know the way the world works yet Allev, and its best you try not to find out how.”

“You’ll come to see I am way more curious about things than I seem like officer. If I can read patients who are three different people at once, you’ll realize that if I want to I can find out how you, the military and the world works.” You had put it out there. A silent warning. And Namjoon was no idiot. He picked it up immediately as he smirked. 

“They aren’t wrong when they say you are the best of your kind Alleviator Y/n.  I guess you weren’t just spending all your time roaming around gardens and playing hide and seek with your patient then?”

You could hear the crowd of alleviators behind you break out into whispers. Hardening your gaze, you looked straight into Namjoon’s eyes. 

“What I do with my patients is a part of how I treat them and how I treat my patients is none of your concern. All you need to be bothered about is whether I can treat them or not and as you said, I do happen to the one of the best of my kind and very capable in my job.”

“But what you’ve done is not enough Allev. It won’t save him from us. Not unless you can complete the testing on him.” 

“I will do what I have to officer.”

Namjoon took a step back, as he understood. It was his time to leave. “And I will do what I have to Allev.”

“You wouldn’t need to, I assure you that.”

“We’ll see then.” He smiled, in a way so irritating you wanted to smack it right off his face. “But remember Allev, you and I are on the same side here. We both work to make the society a better place to live. If you fail to produce Yoongi’s results in 4 days, I will come to take over. We both want the best for him after all.”

“I’m not sure how much of that I believe, but I promise you won’t have the need to worry about his what’s best for him.” You held your hand out looking pointedly at the visitors badge in his hand. “ I can do that for my patient on my own.”

“Good luck then.” Namjoon placed the badge in you hand and turned to walk away. “With him, you’ll really really need it.”

And you watched as the 5 men marched out unsuccessfully. As all the alleviators behind you approached you, cheering you for standing so strong on your ground, you couldn’t help but fear about the next 4 days and what they meant for you and Yoongi. 

Standing outside Yoongi’s door you tapped your foot anxiously. You did just get rid of a very big problem that was looming over you but behind this door was another one. 

What did Yoongi mean with that kiss? Did he have feelings for you? And what about you? Why didn’t you stop him? Why did you kiss him back?? He was your patient for fucks sake. You couldn’t think about him in any other way. And you couldn’t allow Yoongi to think about you in any other way either. You had to make it clear to him.

But somehow, you didn’t function as efficiently as you otherwise would whenever you were in front of him. You always thought of saying one thing but ended up saying another. You just weren’t the same. And that’s probably what led to this. Maybe you weren’t really clear with your intentions to Yoongi. Maybe he interpreted you being friendly with him as you having feelings for him? Did you though? You didn’t know. At that time all you could think about was the 4 days you had remaining to get Yoongi to appear for the tests. You needed to sort this out.

The moment you stepped into his room, Yoongi sprang up from his chair where he was as usual working behind his computer, his face molded in concern. 

“Is everything okay?”

You nodded, taking a step back as he approached you, keeping a safe distance between the both of you. “Yeah it’s all fine. Just...uh...had some formalities to take care of.”

“Oh okay....” He hesitated for a minute and you knew what he was going to talk about. “About earlier-”

“What?” You feigned ignorance. “Ah you mean about the kiss? Don’t-Don’t worry too much about it, I understand it was about the situation and you know an in the moment thing.”

“That’s what you think?” Wait, did you see hurt flash in his eyes? “You think it was an in the moment thing?”

You swallowed hard. “W-What else can it be?” You were struggling with your words. Why were you struggling? Why was this so hard to say? “ I mean we were talking about our pasts and its not something we are fond of and we were broken at that moment so I guess it was like a...a...momentary act of feeling better or...something...like that.”

Oh god, what were you saying?? 

“We’re stressed out adults Yoongi. It could have been anyone. I probably would have kissed a dog in that situation?” You watched the hurt in his eyes morph into confusion and continued stupidly. “No, no I'm just kidding!......Actually I would have.”

Yoongi looked at you incredulously. “.....Really?” 

“Yeah well..” You fidgeted with your fingers nervously. “Well I'm a dog person! A-are you?”

Yoongi slowly shook his head “No....I'm more of a cat person.”

You rolled your eyes at his answer. “Cats are too arrogant for their own good.”

“I think things that beautiful deserve to have ego. Dogs are too loyal and loving and too perfect to be true. It's suspicious.”

" You think being perfect is suspicious?”

“No, loving a person so much is suspicious. You can't possibly very doing that without a motive.”

You frowned stupidly. “You are telling me a dog has a motive behind loving a person?” 

“No, I mean in general it’s...uh...we're diverting by the way.”

“Uh yeah...” You shake your head trying to bring back focus. “Well the point is that whatever happened is no big deal....We are both of opposite genders, alone and spending a lot time together, its like a naturally induced um what do I call it...Infatuation?” Yoongi raised his eyebrows in surprise making you quickly justify your words “And its nothing serious, infatuation is just-”

“An attraction between male and a female and is a state of being completely carried away by unreasoned passion, foolishly extravagant feeling and unappreciated often completely unwarranted emotion.” You blinked stupidly at him, lips parted, as Yoongi cleared his throat and continued. “Uh...I came across it in some general reading.”

“Uh yeah so basically its just a...an unwarranted feeling and I’m we sure can handle it. We are mature adults after all?” You looked at him questioningly, hoping he would just agree and not make things difficult for you. 

Yoongi nodded slowly. “Yeah mature adults.”

You breathed a sigh of relief, clapping your hands together, walking back towards the door. “ Great! So then I'll see you at lunch...mature adult.” 

Yoongi looked at you amused. “Yeah, you too mature adult.” 

You hurriedly opened the door and shut it behind you as you stepped out. What in the world was that? He is Yoongi, your patient, why were you getting nervous in front of him? Calming yourself you walked away towards your office. You could figure this out later. Right now there were more important things to do. 

“Nothing is working out!”

You slammed your files down on the table as you sank into your chair in your office. 

Two out of four days were over with zero success. Again, nothing could make Yoongi budge and agree for the testing. Since you had promised him not to force him into anything he didn’t like you couldn’t even strongly ask him to just appear in the test because that would mean going against your word. So all you could do was try to convince him by finding a weak point but the more you tried to ask Yoongi about his past and his friend, the less he was willing to open up. 

“I can’t do this Tae.” You sank further into your chair burying your face in your hands as Taehyung stood with your coffee by your door. “I never thought there would come a day where I will be unsuccessful with a patient.”

“Well,” He sat down on the chair before you. “We all have our bad days I guess.”

“I understand having a bad day Tae but a bad month?! I’ve had nearly 4 weeks of no luck with this man, do you understand? This man is....” You clenched your fists tight. “This man could end my career at this rate, its really frustrating me.” 

“Relax Y/n.” Taehyung pushed the coffee towards you. “You have two more days to figure this out.” 

“It’s just two more days Tae. What if I can’t do this?”

“Now, now, You are starting to sound like that officer.”

He meant like Kim Namjoon. 

Taehyung was there that day when that officer indirectly challenged you to get Yoongi to test within 4 days. In fact, all your colleagues were there. When your chief was following you making calls you thought he was trying to get people to stop you but apparently he had ordered all Alleviators in the building to stand behind you at the gates and support you in keeping your patient away from the military. While you were happy to have his support it also meant that all the staff, guards, alleviators, everyone knew what was about to go down the next 4 days. It meant there were so many eyes on you, so many judgements being passed around, so many comments being made behind your back. All that didn’t matter to you. What mattered was proving Kim Namjoon wrong. You were capable of taking care of your patient and you would prove it to him. But it was proving to be harder and harder to do so. 

“He may be right Tae.”

“No he isn’t. I trust you enough to know he isn’t right. What you need is a break and to re-stratergize.” You looked up to see Taehyung looking at you encouragingly. He was right. You needed to change tactics. The one you were using was clearly failing you. You opened Yoongi’s case file, skimming through the details again....details. 

Yes of course, that was what you were lacking on. There weren’t much details in his case file at all. Just where he was from, family name, where and how he was caught. That was about it. You were trying to find the story in between these lines to target his weak point by asking Yoongi about it. Asking him was going to give you no answers, you were going to have to look for them on your own. 

“Call the rest of my assistants.” You ordered Taehyung who immediately reached out for his pager, reaching out to everyone. You had a new plan now.

“These are copies of Yoongi’s case sheet.” 

You handed out photocopies of Yoongi’s file to all 18 of your assistants who assembled within 5 minutes of being instructed to. 

“This is the information about him that we have. But I want information about him that nobody else does. I want to know everything. About his family, friends, what kind of food he eats, what kind of clothes he wore, every detail, relevant or not.” You tapped on the file on your table with authority. “It doesn’t matter how you get it, go to his village, talk to people, go to his school, get his school records, talk to teachers and staff and his classmates, get all the help you want and finish this in the next 12 hours. That is all we have. Within 12 hours, I want maximum possible information about Min Yoongi, am I understood?”

“Yes Allev.” The chorus of your assistants rang through the room and they began leaving. 

“Tae,” You turned to him next to you. “I want you to find out more about the boy Yoongi killed.”

“He murdered someone?!” Taehyung looked at you incredulously. It was nothing compared to the shock you had on seeing the whole scene, but he looked petrified. 

“Apparently.” You nod. “I want the post mortem report of that person. Ask the forensics department to talk to the hospital if they say its against their code or anything like that.”

Taehyung nodded. “I’ll talk to Jimin about it but....”

You raised your eyebrows. “But what?”

“Do you think this is the way to go about it? I mean if he wasn’t willing to open up about his past wouldn’t your prodding into it only make it worse?” Taehyung hesitated. “I don’t know I feel like it would make him angrier and lead him to refuse the testing even more.”

“I don’t know. I feel like the only way to get him to crack is it hit his weak point and all these days I’ve been thinking his best friend would do the trick but I don’t think its it. If I have to hit him where it counts then I need to know more. I need to find this weak point.”

“If that’s the case then maybe you are going after everything but the most obvious thing.”

“And what is that?”

“You.” Taehyung looked at you like he was stating the obvious. “I don’t know why you can’t see it Y/n, but you may just be Yoongi’s weak point.”

You shook your head, denying vehemently. “That’s not true.”

“Have you seen the way he looks at you? Ask anyone Y/n-” You raised your hand to stop him. 

“Don’t say this in front of anyone else Taehyung. There are limits between a patient and an Alleviator and you know them. Do not make it sound like the lines drawn were crossed.”

“I’m merely suggesting Y/n. Just because you know the limits, it doesn’t mean he knows or he agrees. I’m not pointing any sort of fingers at you, I’m talking about his feelings. His feelings which are out of our control, his feelings which may be useful in this situation.”

“How is it going to be useful in any way-”

You turned to your phone, startled by the sudden ping and reached out for it. 

Two days down. Two days to go. I’m waiting Allev.

You could feel acid rise behind your throat reading Kim Namjoon’s message. His challenge, Taehyungs words, Yoongi’s case file, a hundred different thoughts all came to you at once. 

“Tae.” You stopped the man as he began to leave the room. “Ask Jimin to look up about Kim Namjoon as well.”

“Kim Namjoon?”

“If we are messing with him, then I need to know how big of a deal it can be.” You looked at the message determinedly as Taehyung nodded, shutting the door behind him. 

That night you walked through the corridors of the institute sleeplessly. 

It had been 12 hours since you had given instructions and all the possible information that could have been collected was already sent to you. Not just your team but alleviators of the whole institute worked so hard on this for you. Most of them hadn’t even returned to the university because they had traveled so far off to do their research. You hated to think about it but it felt like all of their work was a waste. 

When you went through all the data you had about Yoongi, not one thing seemed useful. Nobody even knew much about Yoongi. His neighbors said they hadn’t seen him in years, his teachers said that after a while he stopped coming to school and was home schooled. The father in the church he went to every weekend said he never saw Yoongi speak or even look up. He always just stared at his own hands. Taehyung had somehow managed to track where  Yoongi’s family had relocated after their house burned down but apparently his father refused to speak to anyone and even threatened to shoot Taehyung with a gun. Nothing was lining up the way you wanted it to. There was a dead end everywhere everyone went to collect information. This wasn’t working out either. 

“You don’t look like you achieved a lot in the last 3 days Allev.”

You turned around to see Kim Namjoon standing there and narrowed your eyes at him. “What are you doing here?”

“Given that there’s less than 24 hours before you hand Yoongi to us I’m staying over tonight so I can work on the formalities and take him with me by 6 tomorrow evening.” 

“He won’t go anywhere officer.”

“So much pride you take in yourself Allev. You still believe you can keep him here after all this time.”

“I do. I do believe in my abilities. What I don’t understand though is why you are so adamant on taking him away?”

“I’m as adamant about my job as you are Allev. It’s my job to keep the people in this society safe.”

“Don’t you have better things to do than target us? What about the borders and your base?”

Namjoon narrowed his eyes at you. “How do you know?”

“What?”

“How do you know about what’s happening at the base?”

You looked him confused. “What do you mean? Isn’t it your job to safeguard your base?”

“Oh.” Namjon visibly relaxed. “I thought you knew about the attempts to infiltrate the base. That asshole Jung and his team. I will make sure they are behind bars very very soon.” He muttered under his breath talking to himself before turning to you. “You need not be worried about my job Allev, you should be worried about yours. I hope you know more is at stake than just losing your patient here.”

You swallowed hard as Namjoon took joy in continuing. “Your reputation, your career, your job, everything is at stake here. And not to mention how your drama has already got you blacklisted by the military, any failure on your part will make it easier for us to kick you out of here. Pretty women like you don’t deserve to live the horrible, demeaned life of an Alleviator anyways...” 

He took a step forward towards you but before you could even say a word a voice came from behind you. 

“Don’t you dare step closer to her.”  

You turned around to see Yoongi walk up to you, holding you by the wrist pulling you back to stand behind him, placing himself between you and the officer. 

“And who are you?”

“Do you not listen without introductions?” You watched at Namjoon’s gaze hardened and grabbed Yoongi’s wrist. 

“Yoongi, stop.” You whispered harshly, afraid of what Namjoon might do to him. 

“Its amazing how you always have people to step up for you Y/n. The Alleviators were there for you the other day, and now even though most of them are out on your specially assigned tasks you have patients to stand up for you.” Namjoon sneered. “I didn’t think you were the kind to hide behind others.”

“And I’m not.” You stepped up before Yoongi, looking right up to Namjoon. “I’m not the kind that is scared to stand for what I believe. Mind you, I will do anything to do so. And right now you don’t want to see what I’m capable of. So I suggest you get back to where you came from. Or I’ll have the guards drag you back to the visitors lodging.” 

Namjoon laughed taking a step back. “I’d like to see this arrogance on your face tomorrow Allev. Good luck again.” 

And with that he left, making you heave a sigh of relief before you turned to Yoongi. “What are you doing here?!”

“I was going back from the library....what was he saying about you losing your job and all?”

“That’s nothing.” You shook your head. “It’s nothing you have to worry about.”

“It didn’t sound like something that should be taken lightly. He doesn’t seem like a man you shouldn’t take seriously....”

“Yoongi it’s really nothing-”

“Y/n.” 

You turned around to see Jimin standing there with a file in his hands. Oh yes that post mortem report. 

“Yoongi,” You turned back to him. “Go back to your room.”

“You didn’t answer me though, is everything okay?”

“Everything is okay, just...just go. Please.” 

Yoongi looked at you not thoroughly convinced but he nodded and turned to walk away nevertheless. You rushed towards Jimin.

“What did you find?”

“Not much.” Jimin handed you the file. “The body was almost entirely burnt, there was barely anything left to do a post mortem on. The forensics report though mention that there was possibly a bullet wound but no weapon was discovered on site. Considering Yoongi was caught running away after the murder I’m guessing he disposed the weapon somewhere else. I don’t know if it was located or not, this file itself was a pain in the ass to recover.” 

“What do you mean?”

“Apparently its highly classified. The forensics department couldn’t do anything about it either.” 

“How did you get it then?” You looked up at him confused. 

“I hacked into their system.”

“Jimin what?!” You slammed the file shut looking at him incredulously. “You hacked government classified systems? Are you insane? Do you have any idea what could happen to you if you were caught? What about your and all of our careers-”

“It’s always about career for you isn’t it?” Jimin looked at you pitifully. “Two years back you chose your career over me. Today as well you aren’t worried that anything could happen to me, you’re more bothered about our careers.”

“That’s not what I meant-”

“Don’t justify yourself Y/n. You weren’t able to for two years now and at this point I don’t even expect an explanation from you. Whatever you say it’s going to be the same selfish excuse that you make for your own convenience and I will once again remember how you used me like you did with everyone else in your life.”

“You can’t say things like that Jimin. I thought we were over this.”

“Yeah you and I are over. But the pain you caused me for the last 2 years isn’t over. You just can’t keep anyone you love next to you can you Y/n? No wonder your family left you-”

Before the tears forming in your eyes by his hurtful words could even escape your eyes and roll down your cheek, in a flash of a second Jimin was down on the ground, in a pool of blood.

“Yoongi!” You pulled back the man who had punched Jimin within a blink of an eye, holding him back. “Yoongi stop!” You pushed him back and looked at Jimin who lied there motionlessly, covering your mouth with your hands, still unable to come out of the shock. 

The military was already looking for more excuses to classify Yoongi as dangerous and take him away. Namjoon moreover was already on the institute grounds. If the news about this incident got to him they would immediately take him away. 

“Oh god. What have you done Yoongi?”

You looked at your watch. 6 PM.

Namjoon would arrive anytime now to take Yoongi away and just as you had finished that thought, there he was, marching towards you, papers in his hand. 

“I’d appreciate if you open the door on your own Allev. I’ll consider that as a sign that you accept your defeat.”

Letting out a deep breath you opened the door of room 613, letting Namjoon step in. But the officer stepped into emptiness.

“Where is Yoongi?” He turned towards you, confused. 

You smiled at the man, celebrating your victory. “I should tell you officer, Yoongi just entered stage 1 of testing.”

Namjoon looked at you for a whole silent minute before breaking out into a smile and holding out his hand. 

“I guess your plan worked Allev.”

You shook his hand thankfully. “Couldn’t have been done without you Officer.”

Namjoon shook his head. “I feel like Jimin played the bigger role in this drama. You should thank him. Is he still in the hospital?”

You nodded.

“Yoongi didn’t bash him up too bad did he?”

“Just a broken nose.” 

“He’ll get better.” Namjoon mused. “Congratulations though Allev, I’m glad you and I managed to do our jobs and keep the society safe. I told you we were on the same side here.” 

“Yeah.” You agreed. “With Yoongi’s test results hopefully we are able to determine his true nature and act upon it.”

“I’m sure we will do what’s best. Till later then Allev.” Namjoon took a step back, wearing his beret. “Keep me updated about him.”

“Will do officer.” 

With that Namjoon walked away, leaving you alone with you Taehyung’s voice ringing in your head. You may just be his weakness Y/n. 

You didn’t want to believe it then but you had seen it now.

You were Min Yoongi’s weakness and you just played him with it. You had no idea how you felt about that.