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snarkwrites · 4 years ago

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tease me | tim speedle | mature.

Notes:

So this is kind of picking up where my one shot for Tim Speedle that I wrote for Christmas left off... I just felt like revisiting them, maybe a few months down the road. When her Christmas visit has turned into an extended stay and they’re all nice and settled and stuff... I decided to write filth.

I needed this, okay? I needed it. Literally no one asked for this but I wanted it, so here we are. If I have to yearn and thirst, you guys gotta suffer with me.

Warnings:

First of all, this content is not made for folks under 18+ years of age. And if you’re not a fan of sexual content, you will not like this, I can almost certainly guarantee that. If you choose to continue reading beyond the warnings, this is your problem. I warned you up here what you were in for.

If you are sticking around, this contains : unprotected sex, oral sex - female giving, teasing / nude selfies, and a little bit of dirty talk. Body fluids. That’s about it, honestly.

Tagging:

@chasingeverybreakingwave

@twistnet

[ faq | tag list doc ]

The excitement I felt was so great that my hands were shaking a little. As a result, it was harder to get that perfect image to send Tim. Finally realizing that I wasn’t going to be able to pose myself seductively enough and manage to hold the phone in my hand to take the photo at the same time, I slipped off Tim’s bed and slunk across the room, unzipping my suitcase.

Once I’d found my tripod and set it up, propping my phone on it and setting up a timer to take the photo, I hurried back to Tim’s bed, draping myself across it lying on my stomach. My legs poised so that my toes were up. My hair falling down to frame my face and just barely hiding my eyes and the covers on his bed doing an okay job at making the photo a little less full on risque.

The flash lit the bedroom momentarily and I got up, slinking over to where I’d placed the phone, inspecting the photo. Once I deemed it worthy of sending, I opened the text conversation I had going with Tim.

[ Blondie ] Good morning, handsome.

[ Blondie ] I hope your day’s going better today. I’m just here, waiting...

[ Blondie ] attachment

[ Blondie ] I missed you in bed this morning… and in me.

Satisfied that I’d stayed well within that fine line of sexy but not too over the top after I re-read my messages, I hit send on the last one and flopped across Tim’s bed, stretching lazily. The sunrise was just starting to peek through the floor to ceiling windows and I slipped out of his bed, wandering over to stand in them and peer out, my eyes fixed on the view of the beach across the street from his place.

I tried to imagine his reaction upon receiving the texts I’d just sent while at work in the crime lab and the thought had me smiling to myself a little.

Yeah, I realized that I was stirring things up, but I didn’t care. We were making up for lost time. Coming to Miami like I had on a whim around Christmas was hands down, the best thing I’d done thus far.

My cell phone rang on the bed and I hurried back over, pouting a little when one look at the screen revealed that it was my boss and not Tim like I’d been hoping.

I sighed and picked it up, answering.

I couldn’t keep putting off a permanent decision and I knew this. It was either here or there. I was either about to uproot myself and make the move to Miami a permanent one or I was going to have to set a date to return to New York.

And as I gazed out the window at the beach across the street, a thought hit me.

Home was wherever Tim Speedle was now. I couldn’t imagine going back to New York. I didn’t even want to think about it. So with that realization in mind, I spoke up, interrupting Rex.

“I’m not coming back, actually. I won’t be renewing my contract with your agency.”

“You’re quitting? You can’t quit now, doll… you gotta strike while the iron is hot. And right now, there are some major names in the fashion world askin about you.” - his words had me laughing and shaking my head, because for the entire time I’d been modeling and stuff, Rex was always saying this. My big break was coming any minute now, he just knew it. Or there were people asking about me.

Until, of course, they mysteriously stopped. And I was left with my photography studio as my sole source of income.And honestly, I just wasn’t enjoying the modeling thing anymore. I’d never really wanted to get involved in it in the first place. I’d gotten to a point where I took less and less jobs.

“Sure they are, Rex. They’ve been asking for me since I was 21 and I signed with you and yet… I haven’t hit my big break yet.”

“Hey, whoa.. What about that bit part in the soap opera I got you?” Rex reminded me.

I choked on my laughter and shook my head, pacing Tim’s bedroom.

“It was for an unnamed coma patient. I didn’t even have any lines. All I had to do was lie in a hospital bed and moan occasionally.” I reminded him, clearing my throat and repeating myself, much firmer. “I’m not renewing my contract. I’ll be moving to Miami soon. I’m thinking about opening a photography studio here, actually.”

“Okay, fine. It’s your life, baby girl. You do you. I just hope this little fling of yours down in Miami doesn’t backfire, kid.” Rex replied and then promptly, he hung up the phone on his end. I eyed the phone in my hand before laughing and shaking my head. After I deleted his number, I dug around in Tim’s shirt drawer, finding one of his thin gray t-shirts and I made my way down the hall, starting to clean the apartment a little bit. By the time I finished and was lying in the sunshine down on the beach, a quick look at my phone revealed that he should be getting a chance to look at my earlier texts.

I found myself staring at the phone, practically on pins and needles at this point.

XXX

Eric Delko stepped into the Trace area of the crime lab where Tim was working. The radio was cranked up, blasting Def Leppard. That probably explained why Tim hadn’t seen or heard the texts he’d gotten, Eric mused as he picked up his best friend’s phone, wandering over to where Tim stood, analyzing evidence from an earlier crime scene.

He cleared his throat and Tim nearly jumped a foot into the air, turning to glare at him. Eric held out the phone and chuckled. “You’re getting texts, Speed. I came in to see if you were still up for grabbing a bite. Or if you had other plans.”

That last bit was said in a teasing tone that Tim picked right up on. But Tim chose not to take the bait. Instead, he grabbed for his phone and unlocked it, going straight for his texts.

And when he saw what she’d texted him over the course of the morning, he nearly choked on a sip of bottled water he’d taken. His cock started to strain against his jeans and Tim shuffled his feet, trying to will the situation down.

Eric, of course, was taking it all in and he chuckled, mimicking the sound of a whip being cracked. “You’re so fucking whipped, Speed.”

“I’m not whipped.” Tim grumbled, giving Eric the middle finger as he laughed and shook his head. He was used to the good natured teasing. And his near death experience not so long ago had shown him that life was too short to let everything bother him like he’d done prior to.

He tore his eyes off of Eric, letting them settle on the picture she’d texted him earlier. Biting his lip. Mental images of the night before -and pretty much every night since her surprise arrival at Christmas, flashing through his mind like scenes from an explicit movie.

“You’re staring at the screen in a daze, man. The only other reason you’d be doing that is… Oh hell… She’s sexting you right now, isn’t she?” Eric tried to peer at the phone but Tim combatted this by turning away from his friend completely and squaring up so that his shoulders blocked the view a little better.

Eric chuckled. “I’m gonna go wait in the hall. Give you two a little privacy.” he teased again before ducking out of the lab, door swinging shut behind him with a soft thud.

And the second Tim knew for sure Eric was out in the hall and out of his hair, he smirked to himself, throwing caution to the wind to text her back.

,, Two can play this game, blondie.” he thought to himself as he fired off texts to her.

[ Speed ] Morning, baby girl.

[ Speed ] It’s going. Definitely a Monday.

[ Speed ] I can’t wait to get back there, fuck.

[ Speed ] Fuck… I’m so hard right now. You realize you’re startin something right now, yeah?

[ Speed ] Baby girl, I miss being inside of you. Just standing here thinking about how wet you get for me… The way you moan my name so loud.

[ Speed ] 8 o’clock. My bed. What you wear doesn’t matter because I’m gonna tear it off either way…

[ Speed ] I love you, baby girl. Only 7 hours to go. ;P

After he’d sent the last text, he took a few deep breaths to attempt getting himself under control all over again, and then he stepped out into the hallway, catching up to Eric who chuckled and shook his head. Tim gave a lazy shove to the other man and through laughter he questioned, “Why are you bustin my balls anyway, man? Are you not doing the same with Calleigh right now?”

“ You’re the one who really didn’t get around much before, Speed. I’m your best friend. Kind of my job to bust your balls about your new girl. Speaking of… Calleigh was wondering if you two wanted to do something as a group sometime. She really wants to meet her.”

Tim chuckled and shrugged. “I’ll ask her tonight.”

XXX

The sound of my cell phone going off beside me on the beach towel had me waking up from my lazy little cat nap. I sat up and stretched, grabbing for it.

I fidgeted a little as I read Tim’s responses to the texts I’d sent him that morning. Biting my lip, I eyed the time.

Six more hours now. I blinked in shock. Had I really taken an hour nap on the beach?

It felt kind of nice.

[ Blondie ] Oh, trust me. I know exactly what I’m doing, baby.

I decided to push things just a little further. Since he was teasing me right back. Fair is fair, right? I posed myself and raised my phone so that the camera managed to catch my whole body and I took the picture.

[ Blondie ] attachment

[ Blondie ] Ugh, you’ve got me so wet right now. I can’t stop thinking about the way it felt this morning when you had your head between my thighs.

[ Blondie ] What if I don’t wear anything?

[ Blondie ] Fuck… I wish you were here right now.. Those hands all over my body.

[ Blondie ] I need you. I’m aching right now, baby.

Taking a few deep breaths to center myself, I sent the last text and stood, gathering my beach towel and stretching. I needed to get back to the apartment and take a shower. My thighs clenched as the thought spurred forth a series of mental imagery that had me aching. Tim pressing me against the wall of the shower and hitting his knees, spreading my legs and licking me clean. The little bite marks he left behind that were starting to fade.

I made my way back to the apartment and stripped down, stepping into a nice cool shower.

XXX

His eyes settled on the clock on the wall and he tapped his fingers against the desktop impatiently. It felt like time was crawling by, almost moving backwards.

His phone buzzed against the wooden desk and he grabbed it up, putting in his unlock code. His eyes danced over the texts she’d sent back to him. He let out a ragged deep breath as soon as the attachment was downloaded and he could see her posing in that little neon pink bikini, biting her lip. His eyes roamed over the picture and he smiled softly for a few seconds before saving it.

“Fuck. You’re tryin to kill me today, baby girl.” he mumbled, mostly to himself as he turned his attention to responding to the texts she’d sent him.

[ Speed ] You tasted so fucking sweet. I’ve been dying for another taste of you all day, baby girl.

[ Speed ] If you don’t wear anything, that just makes it easier for me.

[ Speed ] I might have to take you against the door though.

[ Speed ] I’m so hard I could break right now, baby girl. Wanna bury my cock inside you so deep…

[ Speed ] I’m on my way. Just fifteen more minutes. The slowest fifteen minutes of today, apparently.

[ Speed ] I want you naked. Waiting on me in bed.

After he hit send, he set to finishing up the remainder of his paperwork and once that was done, he couldn’t get out of the lab and back to his apartment… To her… fast enough.

The drive across town seemed to take hours and not minutes.

XXX

My eyes settled on my cell phone screen and almost as soon as I realized just how close it was to time for Tim to be getting in from work, the wetter I got in anticipation. My cunt was throbbing already. We’d been teasing each other all day long. That teasing had me beyond ready for what I knew was coming my way as soon as he stepped through the door.

I’d just put the spaghetti I’d made us both onto plates when I heard the door shut. His heavy soled boots hitting the floor beside it with a soft thud. I bit my lip and called out to him, “In here, baby.” so he’d come into the kitchen and I went back to setting the table.

His arms wrapped around me from behind and he nipped at the shell of my ear, muttering against it “Something smells good, baby girl.”

“Spaghetti… Nonna’s sauce, too.” I answered, turning in his arms to press myself against him. He melted into me, putting my back right against the edge of the dining table and his mouth found mine in a hungry and biting kiss. My arms wrapped around his neck and I whimpered as his hands wandered down, grabbing hold of my ass, squeezing and rubbing me against him. I could feel him straining against his jeans already and if I thought I was wet before, I could feel my thighs slipping right off of each other in seconds. One of his hands left my ass, wandering up the hem of the tee shirt I’d taken out of his drawer to wear after my shower. When his palm settled against my throbbing cunt, I whimpered, rocking against it, breathless.

He growled into another deep and bruising kiss as soon as he realized exactly how wet I was. Wordlessly, he scooped me up and carried me down the hall to his bedroom, pushing the door open, not bothering to break the kiss. He placed me on the bed and followed me down, settling over me.

The kiss broke and he gazed at me hungrily.

“I made food..” I barely managed to gasp the words. He licked his lips and spread my legs, leaning down and muttering against my mouth as his hand skimmed the inside of my thigh and settled against my aching cunt all over again, “I know, baby girl.. But I’m not exactly hungry for food right now, ya know?”

My back arched as his hand squeezed my center and he rocked himself against my lower body, letting me feel his cock straining at his jeans, getting even harder. His lips trailed down my neck lazily and he mumbled against my skin, “There’s something else I wanna taste so much more right now…”

As he moved down my body, I tried to reach down between us, giving an impatient tug at the waistband of his jeans that only had him stopping to meet my gaze, chuckling quietly as he shook his head. “Not yet, baby girl.”

“Tim, please.” I moaned out, squirming and rocking against him, desperate for any kind of friction. What I really wanted was his cock buried inside me, but I knew he wasn’t going to give me that yet. Not after I’d been teasing him all day like I had.

Now, he was going to tease me.

His teeth caught on the hem of the tee shirt I’d borrowed of his to wear and he tugged it upward, playfully growling as he did so. Pulling me up so he could pull the shirt over my head and tossing it into the floor of the bedroom. While he had me sitting up, I went for the button and then the zip on his jeans and rose to my knees, pulling him into a greedy and biting kiss as I mumbled against his mouth with a soft giggle. “It’s my turn now.”

“Oh it is, hm?” he gasped as my mouth broke from his and started to ghost down the side of his neck. I gently shoved him against the mattress and the lower my mouth worked down his abdomen, the more I could feel him tensing with each little kitten lick, nip or kiss I left behind as I worked my way down. I tugged down his jeans and the boxers beneath and his cock sprang free, making me moan. Tim raised up slightly, watching as I dipped my head, taking his cock in my mouth, dragging my tongue across the tip and then lazily down the vein that ran the length of it. He shivered and his hands dug into the comforter and tangled up in my hair as he bucked his hips against my mouth carefully.

I wrapped my mouth around his length tighter, taking him deeper in my throat and the grip on my hair tightened as he groaned and rocked his hips against my mouth more urgently. This only made me smile to myself as I pulled my mouth away, a soft pop lingering in the air after suction was broken. After I caught my breath, I wrapped my lips around his cock again, bobbing up and down. His fingers tugged at my hair, guiding my mouth deeper until I felt the tip of his cock starting to hit my gag reflex. His other hand clutches the blanket. I kept at it, his groans and quiet growls and the way he moaned his name only spurring me onward. Until he was tapping me to get my attention.

I licked my lips, wiping my mouth and he was raising up, grabbing hold of me and pulling me up his body.

“I can’t wait, baby girl. Gotta have you right now. Fuck.” he groaned against my mouth as he captured it in another hungry and frenzied kiss. He slammed me down on his cock, gripping my hips as he pumped me up and down and I whimpered, my head falling back and my cries shattering the quiet of the apartment as they echoed off the bedroom walls. My nails dug into his shoulders and upper back lightly, raking over his skin as he filled and stretched me with his cock.

“Oh fuck, Tim.. Baby, yeah. Faster, baby. C’mon.” I pleaded as my orgasm built quickly to an intense level I almost couldn’t keep at bay. His fingers squeezed my hips and he bucked himself up into me from below. Raising a hand, he reached up, catching hold of my jawline. Pulling my mouth down against his and conquering it in a deep kiss. His teeth hooked on my bottom lip, tugging at it and scraping against it and I whimpered as he started to slow down right as I felt my body tensing up and I could feel my orgasm about to shatter through.

He sat up, mumbling against my mouth, “Not yet, pretty girl. Not yet.” as he started to fuck into me slower… deeper. My head fell back and I bounced up and down on his cock until his hands slipped down my sides, squeezing my hips and bringing my movements to a grinding halt. He tilted my chin so that I had to look down at him and his mouth dove against mine, muttering softly into the kiss, “Easy, baby girl. I’m so fucking close right now.” and licked his lips as we pulled apart to breathe.

His hands moved down my body, gripping my ass as he started to buck into me from below and pump me up and down on his cock all over again. Slower. Almost so slow that I could feel him sinking in with each thrust, inch for inch. I was begging, whimpering his name over and over as I tried to get us going faster again, but he chuckled, gripping my ass harder, keeping me as still as he possibly could and shook his head no.

“Tim, c’mon baby, I… fuck.” I whined, begging for release. He muttered lazily against my mouth in a low and husky whisper, “After all the teasing today, baby girl… I’m gonna take my time with you.”

A shiver passed through me as his lips danced down my throat lazily, his teeth latching onto my skin here and there, leaving little marks behind as he continued to slowly fuck into me and pump me up and down on his cock. His lips moved slowly along my collar bones and I gasped, my head falling back in sheer bliss as he started to fuck into me deeper, the angle making every single deep drive feel amazing.

I dragged my hands through his hair, tugging at it as I buried my mouth against his, just to keep myself from screaming his name over and over when he continued to fuck into me deep and slow, pulling me up far enough with each drive that I could feel inch for inch of his thick cock as it buried back inside of me all over again. My fingers dug into his shoulders and his upper back and he shivered, nipping at my breasts as he circled my nipples with his tongue, teasing them to points, blowing on them softly, making me whimper and squirm in his lap, trying to speed up the pace.

He stopped completely, leaning his forehead against mine, taking my face in his hands as he gave me a deep and slow kiss, his lips locking around my bottom lip and tugging gently as it broke again for us to breathe.

“Love you so much baby girl. Having you here is amazing, you know that?”

I remembered my decision and at his words, I beamed softly, muttered back against his mouth with a soft giggle, “I’m glad you think so… Because honestly, I don’t want to leave.”

“You don’t have to, baby girl.”

“I’m not going to, Tim.” I answered, watching as the slow and lazy grin played at his lips, tugging the corners of his mouth upward. His hands smoothed over my hair and he pulled me against him as he started to fuck into me again.

Slow and deep. Lazy thrusts. He meant every single word of what he said when he’d told me earlier that he was going to take his time with me. And after my little surprise news, I could feel him relaxing.

I felt more relaxed too. I’d been feeling that way since I decided to stay earlier in the day.

We had all the time in the world now and I didn’t want to waste a single second of it…

I just wanted to enjoy being here, with him.

Because wherever Tim Speedle was, I knew that was where home was for me.

I gripped his face in my hands, pulling his mouth back against mine, pleading for my release. I ached for it. “C’mon, Tim, please baby?”

His grip relaxed on my body and I started to bounce up and down on his cock faster, whimpering and moaning, dragging my fingers over his back and through his hair as my orgasm shattered through, leaving me shaky, my walls clamping his cock as I rode out my high, milking his cock as it started to throb and he started to fuck into me harder and deeper, bottoming out, capturing my mouth in a deep and lasting kiss as his own orgasm took over and he filled me up.

“Feels so good, baby girl, fuck. I love the way it feels when you’re coming for me. You take me so well.”

I deepened the kiss, my hand resting across the back of his neck as I did so. As we slowed to a stop and sat there, kissing and touching, he tilted my chin, making me look at him. Rolling his thumb over my bottom lip as he gazed at me in sheer adoration and I gazed right back at him in the same way. My eyes settled on the scar he still had from the life saving operation after he’d been shot and I lowered my lips, feathering a kiss over the wound. He chuckled, tilting my chin up, biting his lip.

The growling of our stomachs had us sharing a look, bursting into quiet laughter and Tim muttering quietly against my mouth, “That spaghetti’s cold by now. Want me to reheat it?”

“Yeah.”

He captured my mouth in another lingering kiss and mumbled against my lips with a chuckle “stay right here, baby girl. I got it.” as he let me settle into the bed and slid off, grabbing his boxers and slipping them back on, making his way down the hall and into the kitchen.

I smiled to myself.

Yeah, this really does feel like home.

#tim speedle fanfiction #tim speedle imagine #tim speedle fanfic #tim speedle imagines #my writing ; tim speedle #my fics ; tim speedle #my oneshots ; tim speedle #my ns*w one shots ; tim speedle #// absolutely no one under 18+. this is not for minors #// unprotected s*x tw #// oral s*x tw; female giving #// body fluids tw

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akitokihojo · 5 years ago

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Delicate - Chapter 9

“Well, well. Found you.”

An uncomfortable thud knocked inside of Kagome’s chest at the potential threat presented before her. Sango had stopped alongside Kagome, gazing toward the man she must only see as a mystery. Kagome had never told her what had happened.

“Been a while.” Renkotsu cocked a thin brow, notching his chin up in a feeble and arrogant greeting.

“Not long enough.” Kagome said, adjusting her book bag casually, preparing her excuse to slip through. “And, we’re running late, so gotta go.”

“For what? Gotta pick up your kid brother from school? Or, maybe his friend’s house this time?” He asked, his smile growing a little wider.

“Excuse me?” Her tone piqued, approaching incredulous. How would he know she even had a little brother?

“He’s a cute kid. I’d say, in a few years, he’ll probably be taller than you.”

“What are you, a stalker?” Sango asked, immediately defensive. A scowl pinched at her face immediately, staring the guy down with plenty of indignation.

“Stalker’s a bit of a stretch.” He shrugged, appearing amused. “We’re old friends.”

“No. We’re not. Did you actually follow me home!?” Kagome pressed angrily.

“No, no, no. Nothing like that. What do I look like, a felon?” He chuckled. “I noticed you walking with the kid one day, and saw your school uniform. Isn’t that difficult to narrow down the field, especially when you innocently plant yourself on the path multiple times to confirm you’ve got the right institution. The rest is history.”

“Sounds like stalking to me.”

“Well, how about you go get your boyfriend, and he and I will sort this out.” He suggested, crossing his arms over his chest. “I did warn you two.”

“Kagome…” Sango gave a gentle yank to her sleeve, pulling her attention so she’d notice the direction Sango was looking in. A man was crossing the street, eyes on them and grin minacious. His hair was black, long, tied back in a braid, his hands tucked in the front pockets of his jeans, and shoulders relaxed like he owned the scene.

“What is this?” Kagome asked, turning back to Renkotsu.

“I was told to handle my dirty work, myself, so here I am.” The unwelcome man said, his voice smooth and mature, sauntering passed the two girls to stand beside Renkotsu. “How’s it going?”

“What’s going on?” Sango demanded, stepping closer to her friend so they were shoulder-to-shoulder.

“Which one’s which?” The new guy asked, pointing between the girls, his wrist loose to express his ease in their tension.

Renkotsu pointed to Kagome. “That’s his girl.” Then pointed to Sango. “Don’t know who she is.”

“Oh.” The guy smiled. “You can go, then.”

“We’ll be going. My dad’s expecting us both in ten minutes.” Sango fibbed.

“Then, I suggest you leave and make up an excuse for your friend here. Because, she’s not going with you.”

“Who the hell are you guys!?”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but my name’s Bankotsu. And, I’m sure you’re gonna ask what we want next, so to get it out of the way, she - what’s your name, doll?” He asked, directing the question to Kagome.

Her lip curled in distaste, hating the nickname, and with a heavy roll of her eyes, she said, “Kagome.”

“Kagome’s gotten herself into a bit of trouble.”

“What, because I pushed him and called him a couple of mean names?” Kagome asked Bankotsu, though she stared Renkotsu down, watching his jaw clench. “Did I hurt your feelings?”

“You want to act tough, but you don’t want to reap what you sow? Huh? Is that what I’m hearing? I warned you. If you had just left it alone when I told you to, you wouldn’t be involved in Inuyasha’s mess. Sure, degrade me all you want, but this is your problem now, bitch.”

“Hey! Back off!” Sango yelled, her shoulders squaring as Renkotsu marched forward a few paces. “I’m gonna call the cops if you don’t let us through right now!”

Bankotsu sighed impatiently, his easy expression fading as he lolled his head to the side and gently knocked on Renkotsu’s shoulder to signal for him to step away from the girls. “There’s no need for that.” He gave a brief massage to his temples to rub away some aggravation, his chest rising and falling with a thick breath. “The thing is, I’ve been trying to talk with Inuyasha for a while now. That’s it. Just talk. I’ve had some buddies of mine attempt to pass that message onto him, but they always end up bumping heads. The guy’s pretty disagreeable. I don’t want anything to escalate here. Honest. You guys can go on your merry way. Just do me a favor first and go get Inuyasha, would you? Then you can consider yourself problem-free.”

“Sorry, can’t help you.” Kagome shrugged, her expression flat. “We don’t go to school together.”

Inuyasha rolled his amber eyes, tapping his finger along his crossed forearm as he waiting for Miroku to wrap up something student council related. They’d only come back inside so he could grab some paperwork that could be finished at home, but some chick was in the committee room and started droning on and on about something Inuyasha immediately tuned out, because, quite frankly, he hadn’t signed up for that. He could tell his friend was trying to cut the conversation off, but the guy was pretty polite in comparison to the half demon. He was finally able to wrap it up by pointing out the impending bad weather outside, mentioning that they wanted to try to make it home before it rained.

As they left the schoolyard, crossing the street at the corner, a breeze carried over a familiar scent that couldn’t have been too far off, halting Inuyasha in his tracks. Miroku noticed, stopping but not altogether paying attention as he neatly adjusted the items in his bag.

“What’s up? Rain coming, Lassie?” He absentmindedly questioned.

“Which way did Sango and Kagome go?”

“Uh, I think they were heading to Sango’s house. Why?”

“They didn’t head down this street?”

“Your guess is as good as mine. I think they sometimes go straight a little and then turn left on some corner or other to cut through. I don’t know the way, though, I’ve yet to go over.”

“Fuck.”

“What’s going on?” Miroku asked, his attention now fully on his friend. Inuyasha’s shoulders were tense, raised slightly, his sights on the distance and his brows pinched tightly together.

“I can smell Renkotsu nearby.”

“Is that one of those guys you used to roll with?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, so let’s head home.” Miroku persuaded. “The chances of him knowing that either of the girls are affiliated with you is minimal, and the last thing you need right now is to get caught up in that. Things have been really good for you lately, Inuyasha. They’re probably fine, so you’ve got nothing to worry about.”

“Renkotsu knows Kagome.” He said, stabbing his best friend with his blazing stare. “He saw us together before.”

There was a slight shake to Miroku’s nerves, but he remained as rational as possible, trying to ease his friend back to a stable place. “Here, let me call Sango.” He offered, pulling his phone out. “They may already be at her place. If they are, we’re going to mine and laying low.”

He was honestly surprised the hanyou didn’t completely ignore him and storm off to find Kagome. He could visibly see the restraint he was exercising, but his eyes were searching the suburban horizon, and he knew he had to be using his nose to try and hone in on what direction Renkotsu’s scent was coming from. Maybe even searching out Kagome’s while he was at it. The line rang in his ear; one ring turning to two, then three, then the fourth cutting out before it went to Sango’s voicemail. Inconspicuously, he pressed her number to try again. One ring. Two. Three. Voicemail.

Miroku could admit now that he was worried, himself, his stomach beginning to churn within his abdomen. Steadily, he locked his phone, lowering it and leveling a gaze with Inuyasha. “So…”

“This way.” Inuyasha instructed, running back the way they came and leading Miroku in the direction their partners had gone.

Their scents were heavy in the air, four of them, one guy he couldn’t quite determine, and so was the storm that’d been threatening them all day. When it rained, he couldn’t smell shit, the only aroma he could detect being that of the water pouring from the sky. Even right before and after, the atmosphere was thick with the smell of rain, distracting his senses from anything else. Thankfully, they weren’t that far. Thankfully, he heard yelling to carry his feet the rest of the way. Thankfully, the wind had been on his side to tip him off in the first place.

“Don’t lie!” Renkotsu barked.

“I’m not! He and I don’t go to school together!” Kagome argued.

“So, call him up!”

“No!”

“Call him! Now!”

“I’m not doing shit for you!”

“Oh, see, you should! You’re in the heap of it, baby, and I’ve got nothing against showing you who’s boss now.” His grin was threatening, too joyful to be sane.

“I swear to god, if you don’t back up -“ Sango warned, interrupted by Renkotsu’s transferring glare.

“You’ll what, little girl? You actually think you can do any damage here? Since you want to be so involved, we’ll go ahead and keep your mouthy friend with us and you can go get Inuyasha.”

“Go fuck yourself.” She seethed.

“Wrong answer.” Renkotsu stepped toward her menacingly.

“Renkotsu…” Bankotsu cautioned, though his tone spoke a different message. “Before we go down that route, go ahead and hand over your phones. Unlocked.”

“Fat chance!” Sango scorned.

“Give them or we’ll take them. Final warning.”

“How about we just give you our lunch money and we’ll call it a day, since you sound like a couple of middle school douchebags.”

The two guys expressed utter annoyance, their sighs clenched and dragged, their eyes rolled, a smile on their lips showing conceit.

“Just tell me what you want to say to him, and I’ll make sure to pass the message along.” Kagome offered cheaply, looking daringly into Bankotsu’s eyes.

He stepped closer, meeting her stare, his cool demeanor dropping entirely as he encroached on Kagome, but she didn’t back away. Sango seemed almost prepared at her side, but she couldn’t tell if it was to join the fight if anything happened, pull her away, or shove Bankotsu off. If things actually came down to it, would these guys actually hurt them, or were they all talk? Was this a chance she was willing to take? Didn’t much matter now; she was in knee deep. Kagome had never actually been in a fight, and the guys weren’t necessarily small in comparison to them. The biggest issue was, if anything happened, would she and Sango even be able to fend them off, or would they easily be overpowered?

She heard a simple hum from Renkotsu but didn’t take her eyes off of the man hovering just inches away from her, nor did he remove his from her. She felt hot and angry and nervous, but despite that, she was more than willing to argue herself into an even deeper hole if it meant standing her ground.

“Is he really worth all this?” Bankotsu questioned.

“Yes.”

A powerful hand snatched her left forearm, pulling her back and away, her feet slightly tripping over one another but so solidly held that she stayed standing by the support. It was like she’d blinked and suddenly she was shielded by the broad back of the half demon, the heat of his grip searing through her clothes, keeping her close. Even from behind, she could see, feel, how heavily his lungs pumped air in and out, hear it leaving his nostrils, but he held firmly between she and trouble.

He’d immediately pushed Bankotsu back to create the space, livid that he’d gotten so intimidatingly close to Kagome to begin with. How fucking dare he? How fucking dare he threaten her? Involve her? He was seconds away from fucking this bastard up just for that. Bankotsu’s laugh taunted him further, baiting him, and he’d be damned if he didn’t consider just throwing his fist without bothering to get the small talk out of the way first.

“It’s been a while, buddy! Your hair’s longer! Damn, and you don’t look as scrawny as before, either! I’m impressed a hopeless half breed like you could look remotely like they have their shit together!” Bankotsu boasted.

Kagome huffed, ready to throw a rebuttal at him in Inuyasha’s defense, but Inuyasha was quick to apply pressure to her arm, keeping her silent.

“Congratulations. You’ve finally come out of your cave to find me, yourself.” He remarked. It’d been a year and a half since he’d last seen the leader of this group. No wonder he couldn’t pinpoint the fourth person’s scent; he didn’t remember it at all. “What’s the outside world feel like, Bankotsu?”

“You got jokes. You know what the real joke is, though?” Bankotsu questioned, chuckling, gliding his tongue over the front of his teeth. “I hear you have your girlfriend fighting your battles now. I figure, since she’s the one that wears the pants in the relationship, and she’s the one telling me to come out and play, I should take it up with her. She’s really mouthy, Inuyasha. You should teach her when to shut up.”

It was difficult - so fucking difficult - not to react to his jab toward her. All he fucking wanted to do was defend, protect, from anything and everything, but he knew Bankotsu was looking for a reaction, and the last thing he was about to do was give him what he wanted.

“Or, I can teach her for you.”

Inuyasha shrugged his brows, laughing lightly. “She can take you.”

“Should we test that theory?”

“No need. Renkotsu can tell you all about it.”

“Keep digging your grave, mutt.” Renkotsu dared.

Inuyasha merely cocked a brow at Bankotsu, stating his point was already proven. “You’re not here for her, though, so drop the act. You’re here for me. What the fuck do you want?”

“You did a stupid thing, Inuyasha.” Bankotsu chided, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back with an alpha complex.

“Yeah, over a year ago.”

“I might have dropped it if you didn’t treat this as a game.”

“Was it not? You weren’t actively seeking me out, you were just trying to get your cock suckers to bring me to you if we ran into each other. Clearly, it wasn’t that serious to you if you weren’t willing to do a little something, yourself. You wanted to attempt to make my life a living hell, so I was sending your goons back with black eyes and bloody lips to give you my own message: You lose. As a bonus, they couldn’t open their mouths wide enough to deep throat your frustrations away.”

Bankotsu heaved a tedious and hot sigh, exerting control and smiling through it. “Well, I’m here now. Taking me seriously yet?”

“Not really.”

“Oh? Even after I had your bitch cornered?”

Inuyasha shook his head.

“I see. Hear that, Kagome? He doesn’t really care about you.”

Inuyasha gave another squeeze to her forearm, making sure she kept her mouth shut. Thankfully, she heeded his warning, feeling her physical response as she leaned closer to his back. She could sense something was coming, and he could sense her apprehension from it. He didn’t bother to soothe her, though. He couldn’t. He had to stay level with the fuckers before him; softness wasn’t an option, and so neither was reassurance.

“Look, I’m done with the casualties.” Bankotsu’s smile fell, dark blue eyes hosting vexation. “You can come with us so we can square this away once and for all, or I’ll actually make your life a living hell until you do. We know where your new school is now, and I’m fully prepared to repay the favor you did for me so long ago. Ginkotsu’s just itching to break some shit, and I’ll personally make sure your name is all over the damage.”

“Wait,” Miroku spoke, his tone the most serious Kagome had ever heard it before. It was thicker, deeper, even a little authoritative. He’d braced himself in front of Sango just as Inuyasha had done with her, only he’d pulled her back further so if anything did happen, they were out of immediate reach. “This doesn’t have to come down to any of that. Maybe we can reach a common ground.”

“I’m not really one for ‘talking out my problems.’” Bankotsu stated simply, using his fingers to create air quotes. “These are the options.”

“It’s fine.” Inuyasha said, loud enough to dissuade Miroku from speaking up again. “I’ll go.”

“Inuyasha -“

“After that, we’re done, right?”

“Yup.” Bankotsu smirked.

“You guys will finally leave me the fuck alone?”

“That’s the deal.”

“And, you wont go near Kagome again?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“I’m fucking serious, Bankotsu.”

“I am, too!” He held up his hands defensively, thoroughly entertained by the abrasive temper of the hanyou. “Do your part, come with us, we’ll settle this, and we’ll never talk to your girlfriend ever again.”

Inuyasha swallowed thickly, nodding once in comprehension. “I’ll be right there.” He waited until the two guys created their distance, standing at the corner with their smug expressions, before he turned back to Kagome, finally releasing her arm. He opened his mouth to speak, his tongue barely clicking, before she beat him to the punch.

“You can’t be serious.” Her tone was direct and thick, brown eyes piercing him.

“Go home.” He ordered, not bothering to try and relieve her obvious concern.

“No. I’m going with you.”

“Fuck no, you’re not!” He all but growled. “Go home! Now!”

“No, I-“

“Kagome, do you actually fucking think if you keep insisting I’m going to cave and let you come!? You know we’re not gonna go sip some tea and make nice, right!? Do you fucking get that!?”

“All the more reason for me to come!” She argued, her voice growing sharper, louder.

“No, shut up! We’re not doing this! I’m not going to fight with you until you understand! You’re going to drop it and go home, and I will call you tonight! Got it!?” The hanyou seethed, ignoring the glower that pressed her reddened face. He turned to Miroku, his own concern at the situation showing through his furrowed brows. “Make sure she gets home. Walk her there. Or to Sango’s. I don’t fucking care, just get her out of here.”

“Inuyasha -“ Miroku tried again as he began to walk toward the two awaiting delinquents.

“Don’t. Just do me this fucking favor and keep her safe.” He said lowly, radiant eyes flickering back and forth from Miroku to Sango so they knew the message was for the both of them. “I’ll be fine. You and I both knew I was going to have to deal with this sooner or later.”

They watched him meet up with Bankotsu and Renkotsu, the half demon trailing just behind them as they led him off and out of sight.

Kagome was furious, her chest heaving, fingers furling into fists so tight that her nails pinched into her flesh. Then, before she could notice the transition, her anger shifted into heavy anxiety, her lungs trying to catch oxygen, as she began to panic at the thought of what may happen to Inuyasha in a matter of moments. She was trying to keep it together, removing her sight off of the empty space she’d just seen Inuyasha in and focusing on Miroku and Sango, waiting for somebody to say something. Sango stood there, baffled, shocked, her mouth hanging agape as she looked back at Kagome, and Miroku looked angry and defeated, but was clearly much better at appearing calm than the rest of them.

“What the fuck is going on?” Sango asked, the question open for anyone to answer, crossing the small distance to Kagome to rub her hand up and down her arm comfortingly.

“Inuyasha went through a dark period.” Miroku explained, following closely behind his girlfriend but leaving some space so Kagome wouldn’t feel crowded. “He got involved with a bad group for a while, and went about it all wrong when he wanted out.”

“What did he do?”

“He tried just leaving, but they wanted to give him shit for it. So, he wrecked their space when they weren’t there as a big fuck you.” Even Kagome shot him a look, expressing that she didn’t know that bit of information. “Come on, trust me, Kagome, he can handle this. To be instated into a group like that, you have to go through a beating. Getting out is all the same. He’s stronger now, more resilient, he’ll be fine.”

“Could you maybe explain that with a little more tact next time.” Sango fired.

“I’m being honest.” He said, his voice unwavering. “Kagome deserves the truth. This isn’t going to be a walk in the park, but this is something he can deal with. Alone. He has to.”

“Wait, so just how bad is this, though?” Kagome asked, a slight shake determinable in her tone. “Is it a huge gang? Or, are we talking three or four people? Are they humans? Demons? Do they have weapons? What’s going to happen?”

“Human, but I don’t know the specifics other than that. I doubt there’s more than ten of them, and the chances of them having lethal weapons are highly unlikely, but don’t quote me.”

“Ten?”

Miroku exhaled shallowly. “I don’t know.”

“They’re only getting further.” Sango mentioned to Kagome, letting go of her arm. Kagome nodded, the two of them, like always, clearly on the same wavelength. “I’ll call my dad.”

“What are you doing?” Miroku asked skeptically, stepping in their path.

“Going after them, obviously.” Sango replied, pulling out her phone to find her dad’s contact.

“No. No! Absolutely not! This isn’t something we should get involved in!”

“Inuyasha’s your friend, right!?” Kagome challenged.

“Yes, and if you two weren’t here, I guarantee I’d be with him right now, but that’s not the case! No wonder he told me to walk you home; you’re reckless!”

“You don’t know the half of it.” She affirmed. “You can back off and stay behind or you can come with and help, but if you try to stop me, I will personally show you how reckless I can be!”

He stood there, shocked, witnessing the burning fire in her irises grow larger, hotter, more threatening. There was no fighting her, that was for sure. He didn’t know what help they’d all be, but she was no sissy, so if she felt this was the right thing to do, he should stick by her. Letting her go off alone didn’t seem like the wisest choice on anyone’s behalf. If anything, he’d escort her to the setting of the incident, but he’d do his part and prevent her from getting in harm’s way.

Miroku gave in, his chest deflating as he cleared the way for Kagome to take the lead, the girl quick to start running in the same direction the other three had headed off in. Sango held her phone to her ear, running at Miroku’s side and keeping up, and when her dad answered, her heaving breath really helped the concerned hitch in her tone carry through. Any good father would react instantly to a panicked call from their child.

The drizzle began, light and cold, but Kagome was unbothered, her mind all over the place as she wondered which way they could have gone. Each alley they passed was looked down, each side street was checked, and she felt like they’d all lost their way until they happened upon two women running with their bags held over their heads, protecting themselves from the sudden strengthening of the rain.

“Excuse me!” Kagome called, stopping them in their path. “Have you seen a guy with dog ears pass by?”

“Hard to miss.” One replied. “Turned right just a little ways down.”

“How far?” Miroku asked, keeping his tone as mellow as possible.

“Two blocks maybe?”

Without thanks, the three continued on, turning on the designated street and slowing as they saw no one. The street was narrow, almost resembling an alley but still inhabited by smaller homes. In her gut, Kagome felt like they may be close, but she couldn’t pinpoint how much further they’d have to go. She didn’t even know what they’d do to stop the fight, she just knew she had to do something. She couldn’t sit back and pretend everything was fine while Inuyasha was in a dangerous situation. That wasn’t possible.

Sango was trying to hush her argument with her father, insisting she was fine when he demanded she stay back and let him handle things, but they wouldn’t know where to go if she didn’t stay with Kagome. She was positive he’d get his squad to track her cellphone signal. If she led them to the spot, they’d be able to hurry there and hopefully prevent anything from getting serious. On a whim, she stopped talking altogether. He’d get the hint if she stayed on the line and didn’t speak. He’d understand she wasn’t going to give in, and he’d have to do his part without further argument. Aside from that, a rooting sensation told her it was time to quiet down. The street was ominous; maybe because of the current predicament, maybe because of the onslaught of rain and darkened skies. Either way, if they were close, she wasn’t going to tip anyone off that they were following. They were already at a disadvantage. Two small girls, one human boy, and one half demon boy against about maybe ten guys? Yeah, the odds were not in their favor, and she could only hope her dad was quick to arrive before anything escalated to that point.

“This way.” Miroku whispered, carrying ahead of the two of them with a light jog.

“Oh! It’s Inuyasha!”

The hanyou grieved a sigh, rolling his eyes at the flamboyant guy that welcomed him as they approached the shaded area at the back of the old, battered, abandoned shop. The whole lot was there. All seven of them, six of them looking at him like he’d be fun to rip to pieces and the last looking at him like he was the most thrilling amusement ride. He wasn’t sure which he preferred.

“Well, you guys haven’t changed.” He muttered.

“Not a really good time to talk shit, gotta tell you.” Suikotsu advised, grinning. His hair was dark brown, spiked and styled, his eyes slanted and daring, though his posture was lax, leaning back against the wall.

“It’s about time you manned up, half breed.” Mukotsu added. He was the shorter, uglier one of the bunch, looking about forty with his disadvantages but truthfully only sat at eighteen. Maybe nineteen - Inuyasha didn’t remember; he just knew they were all around the same age. Mukotsu’s biggest threat was his capability to give women the creeps when he stared as they passed by. Otherwise, he was one of the few Inuyasha hadn’t seen since he left, and if he had, he’d easily pummel to a pulp.

Still, even Inuyasha could admit, when it was seven against one, Mukotsu was someone he’d favor going head-to-head with. Kyokotsu and Ginkotsu were the tanks of the group. They were slow and dimwitted, but they were ungodly strong. Even against demons. Jakotsu was nimble and packed a punch, but the worst thing about him was the fact that he’d laugh when striking someone. It was slightly terrifying. For a person who claimed to always have a thing for Inuyasha, he sure enjoyed squaring up with him, too. Not quite the type of romance Inuyasha was into. Ever since the beginning, he always felt bad for potential boyfriends Jakotsu would have in the future; for obvious reasons. Suikotsu was, as everyone deemed him, the cool one. He wasn’t hot-headed, he wasn’t swayed by insults, he didn’t have a tendency to get too worked up. He was built, he knew how to clap back in more ways than one, but when the going got real, he got vicious. It was like a darker personality was rooted deep beneath the surface and it took ripe instigation to set it free, but god, if you did, good fucking luck. Bankotsu, the leader, liked to sit back and watch his men do his fighting for him. He was prideful. Every time Inuyasha saw him grin, it reeked of vanity and made him want to forcefully remove the smug look from his face. He was insanely intelligent, though. Maybe not as smart as Renkotsu, but he was right behind him. Inuyasha had personally witnessed Bankotsu bring Kyokotsu to his knees once, and he’s the largest and strongest. It’s all about strategy, figuring out weaknesses, utilizing them correctly, and it helped that he wasn’t anyone who could be considered weak, either. As sour as it was to confess, Bankotsu had earned his spot at the top.

“Let’s get this over with.” Inuyasha grumbled, making it sound like this was a waste of his time.

“You shouldn’t be in such a hurry to get your ass kicked.” Kyokotsu chuckled.

“For all the trouble he’s put us through, I say we tie him down first.” Jakotsu suggested, waggling his brows.

Inuyasha cringed, the actual threat behind it not capable of sinking in when Jakotsu was the one talking. But, when Ginkotsu and Renkotsu - who sauntered over to join the lot of them - chimed in to agree, the hanyou felt the weight of it. That’d leave him helpless to their ruthless beating, potentially too damaged to even get himself home on his own. They weren’t killers; he was confident Bankotsu would stop them when enough was enough and felt satisfied with the amount of blood Inuyasha spit to the ground, but seven against one was already a handicap. It would be merciless to tie his hands behind his back and expect him to lie there and take it.

“That doesn’t sound like your style.” Inuyasha countered quickly, aiming to subtly challenge Bankotsu’s pride. “Do you guys see me as that much of a threat that you have to prevent me from fighting back?”

Six of them laughed, impudence laced with incredulity. Good.

“You don’t stand a chance against all of us!” Ginkotsu declared.

“Then why tie me down?”

“Why should you get the chance to defend yourself?” Renkotsu opposed.

“I thought this was all about how you were better than me. How can you prove you’re superior to anyone if you had to tie your opponents hands behind their back to win?” Inuyasha coolly bargained.

“No, he’s right.” Bankotsu agreed, his tone even, a charming grin on his lips. “He wants to fight back, he can fight back. There’s no way he’ll win, and he knows it. No pinning, no holding, and nothing below the belt. Good?”

Inuyasha particularly favored the last motion, knowing it was directed at Ginkotsu. Not that it was necessary, but that fucker always fought dirty.

The rain was really coming down now, droplets bouncing off of the asphalt as they fell from the sky with force, the sound of them clapping down filling the silence among the men. Just about all of them were smiling with odd delight, some moving forward from under the shelter provided by the eaves of the shop, some of them staying put to wait their turns. Inuyasha allowed his book bag to fall from his shoulder, grabbing the strap before it hit the floor and tossing it off to the side, out of the way, and then pulled his already-rolled sleeves further up passed his elbows.

His breathing was tight, intentional, heating his body from within while he waited, observing the way the vultures began to surround. He couldn’t help but wonder who was going to instigate by throwing the first punch. On top of that, he couldn’t help but wonder how long this would last or how far this would go. When he was first circled by this crowd a little over two years ago, asking for entrance, willing to pay whatever price to fit in somewhere, it was rough. They challenged him one at a time, and each handed his ass to him like it was nothing. He wasn’t well-versed in fighting then. His swings were limp and sloppy, and his kicks were more like flailed legs. Given the experience he’d received since then, he was a lot more structured and advanced now. That was the only reason he’d been able to hold the upper hand against them when they came at him individually during run-ins. Even the few times it was two against one, he still held his own. Seven against one, god he could laugh for the mess he’d gotten himself into. He knew it was only a matter of minutes before he was overwhelmed by the attack, but he’d be damned if he’d give in without one hell of a fight. He’d stand for as long as he could.

Amber eyes landed on Kyokotsu as he happily approached, bracing, but after Inuyasha was punched in the jaw from the right, he realized the troll was the distraction so Bankotsu could unsuspectingly get the first hit and throw him off kilter. The hanyou reacted, briefly rubbing out his face as he turned back to meet Bankotsu’s bitter smile.

“You’ve held yourself pretty well against everyone here before, so let’s see how you fair against me first.”

“My pleasure.” Inuyasha said a little too gladly. If there was anyone he’d love to fuck up, aside from Renkotsu’s bitch ass, it was Bankotsu. It probably would have pleased the bastard to know he’d successfully gotten beneath Inuyasha’s skin, but who the fuck cared at this point? There’s no better face to make his knuckles bleed from hitting so hard.

Bankotsu, with a dangerous glint in his eye, came forward, dodged Inuyasha’s defensive swing just to show off how quick he was and then went at him again, veering enough for Inuyasha to barely graze him, ducking, and then elbowing him in the side of his ribcage. The half demon had tensed in time to avoid having the wind completely knocked out of him, and in a growl of agitation, he reached for the cocky fucker, spun him to fully face him, and decked him square in the nose. It was like the fun was wiped clean off of the other six, and they began closing in for their turns, but Bankotsu held up his hands to stop them, inadvertently giving them all a glimpse at the blood seeping from his nostrils. When they heeded his silent order, Bankotsu chuckled, running the back of his thumb beneath his nose to see the crimson damage for himself.

“Let’s have some fun.” The leader smiled.

Her heart was racing a mile a minute, thundering in her chest, and as the three of them stopped jogging the little ways they’d gone, trying to figure out where the hell to go next, she ran her shaking fingers through her thick, wet hair to keep it from sticking to her face any longer. Sango and Miroku stood ahead of her, and they began walking again, but as her feet moved to follow she caught the very faint sound of grunts and shouts coming from her right. Kagome didn’t even bother alerting her friends, she just took off in that direction, following the pull in her gut, her shoes slapping against the wet pavement as she ran down a dim alley.

Miroku, having heard the slight scuffle of feet from behind, turned around, noticing Kagome was gone. He hissed a curse, grabbing Sango’s shoulder to direct her, her perception of hearing probably thrown from her father talking in her ear. Another curse, this time louder when he grew aggravated at just how similar Kagome seemed to his best friend; a little brash, a little impetuous, a little irrational, and a little stupid.

“Dad, I’ll call you back.” Sango said, hanging up before he had an opportunity to protest, something she felt she should have done from the start; she wanted to alert him and have them lock onto her signal, and she knew that only took a matter of minutes once they got the ball rolling, and she’d only stayed for his sense of comfort from that point on. “Where did she go?” Her voice was higher, on the frantic side as she ran over to the nearest alley, figuring it was the only possible route.

Sango didn’t even bother thinking it through, running down the pathway with Miroku sticking close behind. On the other side of it, there was a broken, brick wall, the lowest parts of the unstable structure sitting at about shoulder height for her with an opening a little further to their right. Immediately peering over the shabby pieces, they noticed the group taking their hits on Inuyasha across the street, and Sango’s jaw dropped at the sight.

Miroku squeezed from behind her, acting quickly, running towards the opening as fast as he could and snagging Kagome by wrapping an arm around her lower abdomen, picking her up, and spinning her around. As gently as he could in his hasty reaction, Miroku set her down, pushing her back a few feet to be shielded behind taller-standing bricks.

“Are you crazy? Have you assessed the situation at all, Kagome?” He kept his voice low so as to not attract attention. Her cheeks were brightly flushed, her brows furrowed deeply and chest heaving air into her lungs.

“We don’t have time for that!”

“What’s your plan?” He challenged. “What could you possibly do to break that up? Run into the middle and use your girlish charm to stop everyone mid-swing? No! This shit doesn’t work like that! It’s not even one-on-one, they’re jumping him!” Kagome’s chin quivered at that, but Miroku continued. “Did you ever stop to think of the repercussions of interrupting? You could -“

“Why did you come then, Miroku?”

“To see if there was anything we could do! It doesn’t take a genius to know that there isn’t at a glance.” Kagome opened her mouth to respond, but he silenced her by planting his palm over it. “You could make this so much worse for him. Think about it. If you run out there, he’s going to be so focused on protecting you, he won’t even stand a chance in defending himself. They could grow angrier because of your boldness and take it out on him. Do you want that?”

It took a moment. A tense moment where her cheeks had puffed beneath his hand and her eyes squinted from the anxiety, imagining the scenario, allowing it to sink in, her lids blinking rapidly from the raindrops that curved along her face. Then, she shook her head to answer his question, giving in when she realized he was right. Miroku released her, breathing out, his eyes apologetic at how rough he’d had to get, but she understood. She looked over at Sango who was watching over the wall, her phone to her ear and her voice soft as she spoke.

“Daddy,” She whispered unsteadily when her father answered the phone. “Seven. There’s seven of them.”

Seven.

Against one.

Kagome sucked in a ragged breath, holding it in her chest as she turned to look at the scene, her heart plummeting to the floor as she watched Inuyasha cough out and double over. It’s not like she knew better from worse, but it seemed they were going at him rougher than what was deemed necessary. Another hit from a huge guy and he was on the ground. She winced alongside Miroku, ignoring the gentle hand on her arm that tried to tug her away. The second attempt was stronger, successful, and Sango pulled her into a tight hug. She could even hear her dad talking through the phone, and as soon as they confirmed they had the location, Sango hung up and dropped her cell in the pocket of her bag.

“Dad’s on his way. It’s gonna be fine.” She reassured her, but Kagome pushed out of the hug, giving a cheap smile in appreciation. This wasn’t about her. No matter how helpless she felt, which was exponentially so, she didn’t want this sort of attention. It only amplified how she could do nothing to stop what was happening.

With a shaky sigh, Kagome leaned her back against the wall, attempting to tune out the horrific sounds of Inuyasha’s grunting, the growling, the coughs and wheezes, the noises of the impacts of fists and kicks meeting his body, the curses from the culprits’ mouths, the goading and coaxing to get him back up so they could continue. And then, a pulsation rippled the atmosphere, instantaneously making Kagome feel sick to her stomach.

She could hear him telling them to stop, urgently repeating the word. Demanding they hold back for a moment.

Another ripple, and a lump formed in Kagome’s throat, threatening to make her puke. She looked over at Sango, and it seemed like she noticed it, too. Then, she looked over at Miroku whose eyes were wide as he was the only one who was witnessing the events.

The fighting sounded like it was ceasing, and Inuyasha made a noise like he was in pain. But, his voice was heavy, gruffer than ever before, a deadly growl warning everyone to step back.

Another pulse, and Kagome knew something was horribly wrong. Defying the disgusting sensations pitting in her abdomen, she looked out, noticing the half demon against the floor, bracing himself, breathing thickly.

“I think,” Miroku spoke. “I think his demon blood is taking over.”

“What does that mean?” Kagome quickly questioned, looking back and forth from Inuyasha to Miroku.

“It’s like fight or flight, but flight is no longer an option.”

“He’s one-hundred percent fight.” Sango added, watching beside them.

“And, when you’re one-hundred percent anything, you’re blinded to rationality. I heard this can happen when the body is convinced they’re in mortal danger. Like, a trigger of some sort.” Miroku said.

They watched an aggressive shudder vividly crawl over Inuyasha’s back, his claws swinging when one of the attacking men tried to get close to him as he remained in his folded position.

“We need to stop the fight. We need to calm him down.” Kagome launched to run, surprised neither of them tried to stop her. The fight was just about over, anyway. The seven men had backed up, watching what seemed like a transformation come alive, some skeptical, some shocked, and some entertained.

Sango followed Kagome, grabbing two broken bricks from the ground in preparation, and when they cleared the opening of the wall and sprinted across the street, Kagome screaming for them to stop, Sango threw a brick right at the back of the widest guy, stealing his attention. Miroku was right next to her within another passing second, his own bricks in hand.

“I’m a good fucking shot, Shrek! You don’t want me to throw one of these at your face!” Sango yelled as he turned around and scowled. “Back off!”

“I suggest you guys get away from him!” Miroku insisted. “That’s his demon side coming through, and it only gets more dangerous from here on out!”

Seeing an opening, Kagome ran straight through, slowing the moment she was within the barrier. She dropped her bag where she stood, watching his breathing slow, steady, even out. He was unfurled, supported on his hands and knees, but his sight was glued to the asphalt beneath him. His silver hair was hued darker, soaked with rain, the ends of his bangs waving and dripping with water. From the side she approached, she could see his face, his ponytail curving around his opposite shoulder. She could see the blood that dropped from his mouth and the scrapes on his temple. More so, she could see the purple markings that faded in on his cheekbone, progressively darkening as if they’d always belonged.

She knew some demons had marks from birth. It had something to do with their lineage or heritage; she wasn’t very educated on it. Inuyasha had none, though. Was his demon blood so potent when provoked?

Still, she needed him to know she was there. That there was no reason to be worked up anymore. The cops were coming, and he didn’t have to worry.

Kagome knelt beside him, waiting a small moment for him to notice her. Nothing. No reaction. So, ever so gently, she placed her hand on his shoulder, the white cloth of his shirt sopping, translucent, the tint of his skin showing from beneath.

“Hey,” She breathed, allowing the weight of her hand to increasingly settle. “Don’t be mad, okay? I followed, but -“

Her sentence was cut off by her own sharp gasp as Inuyasha clutched the front of her top. His reflexes were insanely fast; she hadn’t even seen him move, nor did she have the time for much else before he yanked her an ounce closer and then forcefully shoved her away. Their position didn’t allot for her to be thrown very far, but he had still proved his unforgiving strength, having created some sort of distance and having caused a minor road rash along the back of her thigh that she’d never expected to receive from something like this.

Kagome was quick to throw her hand up when Miroku and Sango shouted her name, silently trying to tell them she was fine and not to come closer. This wasn’t Inuyasha. Inuyasha would never hurt her. Inuyasha would never hurt anyone he cared about. The offending group had spread out further, but their chuckles were almost as loud as boisterous laughter and she wanted to scream at them to shut up. This was their fault.

She’d been propped on her elbow, in shock at what had just happened, brown eyes glued to the half demon, no, full demon just feet away from her, tediously beginning to pick himself up to a standing. She’d managed to bring herself to a full sitting position, the hypnotizing sight before her making it easy to ignore the slight burning on the back of her leg from skimming the ground. As they appeared, Kagome noted each and every difference about him in this state. His smile was deadly, defiant, crooked, and confident. The purple markings on his cheeks were vibrant now, having made home. His claws were longer, more threatening. His shoulders were broad, full, carrying no trace of burdens or insecurity. And, his eyes. Kagome inhaled tremblingly, her chest hitching and throat tightening. She’d never seen eyes like this before. The sclera was a terrifying shade of red - not even closely resembling bloodshot eyes. They were just red. And, his irises were bright blue. Like, vigorous electricity struck through them.

Inuyasha stood tall, looking down on her, blood lightly trickling from his lips, to his chin, spotting the front of his soaked shirt. He gave her a shrug of his brows as he licked the corner of his mouth, shifting his attention to the men scattered around. His feet glided along the rough floor as he slowly turned about, taking in the features of each individual, his smile showing amusement.

“What’s wrong?” His voice was so low, so husky, it almost rang seductively, but she realized that the sensation she felt crawl up her spine was fear. He created that with two, simple words. “Why do you guys look so afraid? Realized you went a little too far and can’t handle the consequences?”

“Inuyasha?” She softly spoke, pushing her legs beneath her so she could stand. He didn’t regard her in the least.

It was hard not to be overcome by her dominating emotions. She was angry, and scared, and anxious, and overall just didn’t know what to do to help. Where was Inuyasha? How was she supposed to reach him?

The only logical - if logic was applicable here - idea that popped into her head was to get him to focus on her. He was in there. If she could catch his attention, someway, somehow, maybe he’d come back. Unfortunately, her apprehension was prevalent. She felt nauseous, not only from his energy but from the trepidation that maybe she wasn’t powerful or significant enough to succeed.

Thickly, Kagome swallowed, pretending her saliva was built of anything holding her back, and on her next inhale, she pushed through it all.

“Inuyasha, it’s me.” Carefully, she began to approach, watching every little move he made intently. He chuckled sinisterly, lolling his head back as he swiveled on his heel to face her.

“And, who the fuck are you?” He asked slowly, grinning still, his tone carefree but remaining low. Like, a different person was talking through a vessel.

It stung. Ice crept through the cavity of her chest to hear those words from Inuyasha’s lips.

“Kagome. I’m Kagome.” She leveled.

She observed the way his features gave way slightly, igniting hope. His brows had pinched together minutely, and the corners of his lips faltered, curving downward for a moment before he fixed them to sit straight.

“Doesn’t ring a bell.” He stated, turning to face Bankotsu who stared back with distaste. “You, on the other hand… you don’t look so tough now, do you, hot shot?”

“Hey, it’s - it’s over. No one’s fighting anymore.” The rain was stopping, diminishing to a light sprinkle. Kagome walked forward, inching again to close the space between them. “So, let’s - let’s go. Can we go now, please?”

Inuyasha snarled, stabbing her with a dangerous warning of a glare, causing her to involuntarily flinch and still. “Back. Off.”

“You may not remember me right now, and that’s okay, but I know who you are. You mean so much -“

“Get away!”

Another flinch, but Kagome was deliberately relentless.

“Just the fact that you’re not attacking me -“

“Did you want me to!?” Inuyasha’s voice was loud and thunderous, and as she trembled again, he sidestepped away from her. “Because, I will if you don’t want to tread carefully!”

“Inuyasha, it’s done!” Her voice was raspy with her desperation. “Calm down! There’s no reason to keep fighting anymore!”

He gave an exaggerated scoff, dragging out the sound as he rolled his eyes vehemently. “See these guys? That’s seven reasons.”

“Fuck it, I’m tired of the dramatics!” One of them announced, his face marred with evidence of a few solid hits to the same spot. His tone held rage, his body language screamed that he was annoyed, and the way his jaw was set told her his adrenaline was still spiked. He wasn’t one of the obnoxiously large guys; he had an average build with a stare that could kill. “If he still wants to fight, I’m willing to knock him back down!”

“That’s what I fucking thought.” Inuyasha smiled, his entire body turning around to greet the approaching aggressor.

“No!” Before Kagome could even run forward, Miroku was on the man, pushing him back and slugging him in the cheek. He was shouting, telling him to stop being an idiot, taking a couple hits of his own, but Kagome’s eyes shifted back to the demon in the center. He was growling, the sound a threat on its own, dangerous eyes on Miroku, then traveling about the six others.

“Who’s next, then?”

“Stop!” Kagome implored. The plan to ease his way was thrown, and she lunged forward, grabbing his forearm to steal his attention, force it on her, even going so far as to give him a pull back in her direction, his body sturdier than she’d ever remembered it being before.

He reacted swiftly, turning back to her, ripping out of her hold and then grasping her upper arms with bruising force. She gasped shakily, wincing, and his grip on her seemed to decrease a fraction.

“What did I fucking tell you!?” Inuyasha yelled in her face, and she whimpered at his ferocious demeanor, succumbing to the weight of the stress of it all. Her eyes burned with quick-brimming tears and she couldn’t prevent her face from crinkling, or her chin from quivering, or the way her body had tensed substantially.

“Inuyasha, please. I don’t know how to help, but I want to. Are you afraid?” It was difficult to look up at him with how she just wanted to shrink down, his body curled over her, hair no longer dripping as the rain had completely ceased. She did, though. She leaned her head back, crying just a little harder when she noticed he wasn’t breathing. His throat was visibly tight, but his eyes were boring into her, signifying that he was still present. “I am. I’m really scared right now. I just want you back. The real you.”

She heard the grunt release from his lips, his eyes closing, shutting tight as he seemed to struggle with himself a little, but as he grunted again, his hands inadvertently clenched against her arms, a sharp pain stabbing the back of her left arm where his fingers pinched in. Kagome tensed her abdomen, her chest, her throat, trying to bite back the whine that threatened to spill, ducking her head to hide her twisted expression.

Inuyasha brought her closer, her face mere inches from his chest. His breathing was ragged. Rough. His growl was nonexistent. His body radiated heat like a furnace cranked up to its highest setting.

Kagome watched the way his chest moved, pumping air in and out of his lungs, progressively evening out, and the deeper and more serene his breaths got, the less pressure he applied to her arms, his hands slightly trembling as he let her go little-by-little.

Inuyasha took a single, staggering step back, and Kagome chanced a look at him, his golden eyes staring at his right hand, then fluttering back down to her. His irises were dull, lackluster, his lips slightly parted in confusion.

“Are you… are you okay now?”

The nod he gave was so subtle it was hardly detectable, but she watched his jaw move as he mouthed the softest “yeah,” his lips sealing immediately after.

With a heavy sigh of relief, Kagome pulled herself into his chest, her arms wrapping around his waist, fingers gripping the back of his shirt as her inhale brought her chest to tremble against him.

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fangirlovestuff · 5 years ago

Text

Holding Out For a Hero- Steve Rogers x Reader Pt.2

a/n- enjoy!<3 italics are for thoughts / dreams.

part 1

Two people decided they didn't really want to join, so you were left five newbies and five Avengers – Tony, Natasha, Steve, Bucky and Sam.

After a short way, you finally entered the tower. You barely registered how modern the interior design was, wanting to get a good look at everything that was going on inside the tower. They herded you all into the elevators, going straight to the roof.

On the roof, a jet waited for all of you. It was surprisingly comfortable and spacious, and you and Julia sat down next to each other. "The flight is about an hour. Feel free to rest, you'll probably need it." Tony said, taking his seat next to Natasha. Sam had to seat next to one of the men who came with us, but they seemed to get along fine.

You were pretty overwhelmed with the possibility that was dropped on you, so you told Julia and went to sleep.

You felt his warm lips on your neck, then your jaw, then kissing your mouth fervently. You eagerly returned his kiss, running your hands on his toned arms and abdomen. He pushed you into the bed, and you felt his body on top of yours. You hummed in pleasure as he continued his attack on your mouth, and you tangled your hands in his hair. He began trailing down your body, leaving open mouthed kisses on his way to where he knew you wanted him the most. "Steve," you moaned at the sensation of his beard between your thighs. You looked down at him and he grinned at you, kissing up your thigh, closer and closer until he was so near your folds you thrust your hips, and his mouth landed on your—

"Hey! You okay there girl?" you opened your eyes and saw Julia's face staring at you, concerned. You stretched your neck and moved in your seat. Your dream left you a little disoriented, and – shit – a lot wet. You came to your senses quickly. "Why did you wake me up?" you asked Julia upon seeing you were still mid-flight.

"You were fidgeting and breathing really heavily, I thought you were having a nightmare so I woke you up."

"I didn't say anything though, right?" you asked, concerned.

"No, nothing. Why? What was your nightmare about?"

"I don't really remember, that's why I asked. Anyway, you should probably get some sleep too. I'm gonna rest some more."

You put your earbuds in and put your playlist on shuffle. You closed your eyes, thanking every god possible you weren't a sleep-talker. You felt kind of bad about lying to Julia, but you just met her, and really, it was a white lie anyway. With a sigh you shifted and leaned back in your sit.

That's gonna be a problem.

Julia and Natasha already figured out your crush on Steve. You had to make sure he would never ever find out, because if he did you would probably be kicked off the team. despite still having no idea what exactly they expected you to do, working with the Avengers wasn't something you wanted to miss out on.

To Natasha and Julia you could belittle your feelings all you wanted, but you couldn't lie about this to yourself. Sure, you weren’t in love with him, but your crush was massive, as you were sure his—nope, not gonna do that. You giggled internally at your own bad joke. You had to admit – Steve Rogers was your dream man. Aside from being a super-hot super soldier, with great ass and abs for days, and a really sexy beard and his strong arms that that looked like they could manhandle you in the best way possible, and a– dammit. Why do I keep coming back to that? To get back on track, you were sure the super-soldier serum had its physical advantages. But over the years, the world, you included, got to know the man better, and honestly? He seemed amazing.

Steve Rogers will forever be known as the man who, in spite of being a super-enhanced soldier, solved almost all of his arguments in words. Even though he could definitely beat his opponent in a physical fight easily, he chose to put his intelligence and eloquence to the test, and verbally convinced them he was right. He was kind and considerate to every kid or adult that came up to him to express their gratefulness or appreciation to him, always making sure to tell them if they put their mind to it, they could do whatever they wanted. He was an inspiration to an entire generation of kids who were growing up with him as an example. Surprisingly, he learned to manage Twitter, and was constantly tweeting for Lgbtq+ rights, supporting the #BlackLivesMatter movement, or any other good cause he found. He raised money for charity and marched for women's rights. And in addition to all that, he was saving the world one catastrophe at a time.

So yeah, no one could really blame you for having a crush on Captain America. Hell, probably half the country did too.

The Avengers did a lot of press as well. Steve got asked tons of questions about Peggy, until one of these times he lost his patience and almost lashed out at the interviewer, who looked scared for her life.

"Listen here. Peggy is long gone from my life and you never knew her. I think the minimum level of respect you could give her is to not treat her as a love interest." His eyes blazing, he continued, "So if you have questions about Peggy as a person, go ask her family and leave me out of it." He stormed away from the interview.

Later that month an interview went out with the same interviewer.

"I wanna start by apologizing for the last time we met, you were just the hundredth person to ask me that question so I kinda lost it and I'm sorry." Steve apologized.

"No problem." She smiled at him. Sure, hot blonde interviewer. We all know he's hot when he's angry, you thought amusedly.

"It's just that, I really do miss her. She was a remarkable woman, and she achieved so much in her life when I wasn't around, so it bugs me to see her treated like my "love interest" in the media, and not acknowledging her accomplishments really sucks." Steve explained. "I will say though, ever since then no one asks me this kind of questions anymore." He chuckled, "So you did do me a great favor." He smiled at the interviewer.

They continued the interview, talking about Steve's new charity project "All in Challenge", about the Avengers and whatnot.

You shook out of your reverie. In the time you took to have this entire inner monologue, you noticed you were preparing for landing. You resolved to forget your crush on Steve. No matter how wonderful or single he was, you couldn't risk this opportunity. You had to keep it professional.

You landed quickly after that, getting off the plane and stretching your limbs. Tony signaled to come after him, so you followed. He led the way to the compound, where you entered and Wow it's so awesome in here! You couldn't wait to see everything, but before you could start asking questions Tony started talking.

"Hope you had an okay flight. Now you'll be led to your rooms. You can take a shower or something. There are some clothes already there for you. In exactly," Tony looked at his watch, "30 minutes someone will come pick you up and give you your missions, explain how is this gonna go and answer whatever questions you have as long as you don't annoy them too much. Dismissed."

Natasha approached Julia and you. "follow me, your rooms are pretty close to each other."

You took the elevator silently, without any floor cutting lasers this time.

She led you through multiple corridors and stopped in front of a door. "This one is Julia's." Julia went in after hurriedly exchanging your phone numbers.

You and Natasha walked another minute and then got to your room. "Here you go. This one is yours." She smiled at you. "Thanks." You smiled back and entered.

The room was fairly big, and the soft-looking queen size bed caught your eye immediately. It had a set of neatly folded clothes on it. You sighed, knowing you needed to shower and also wouldn't be able to sleep because you slept on the plane.

You got in the shower, enjoying the feeling of the warm water on your skin. You really wanted to sing in the shower as you usually do, but you didn't know how soundproof the walls in here were. Well, gotta kick that habit, you thought.

You got out of the shower, drying off and putting on the clothes that were on the bed. They fit you quite well and were comfortable. You checked your phone- no new messages from Julia. Guess she's still in the shower.

There was a knock at the door. You opened it, expecting to see a serious S.H.I.E.L.D agent. Instead, you found yourself staring into Natasha's blue eyes. It was a very pleasant surprise.

"Come on. You're getting your mission from me."

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x female reader #avenger!reader #avengers #mcu fic #self insert #natasha romanoff #tony stark #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers imagines #chris evans

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rainbowserenity · 5 years ago

Note

1. “Do you want me to leave?” - Hopurai

royal!AU tag

my intention with this AU was for it to be a bunch of oneshots that could be read separately….but this is the installment that makes me wish I’d had the foresight to just make it into a multichapter fic 8D;if you don’t want to go in blindly, I would HIGHLY recommend (re?)reading at least the previous installment before the this one. all the fics are in the above linked tag, or they’re in a collection on AO3 here

sorry for being so ridiculous lmao

*****

Therewas such a strange disconnect from staring outside the windows of thepalace as opposed to when she’d had to stare out of a hole in theceiling back when she’d been living in the slums. Back then, she’d belooking up into the smog-covered sky, trying against all odds to seethe stars that the fal'cie would bring at night.

Now,sitting in her office, she could literally look down on so much ofEden since the palace towered over pretty much everything except thefal'cie Phoenix itself. It was weird, to say the least.

Well,she supposed it was no stranger than Lightning Farron, former soldierand resident of the slums, being discovered as Eden’s long-lostprincess.

Lightningfrowned slightly as she watched people go about their daily business.From up here, they looked like ants. It was hard to believe that somecould be struggling or confused or going through heartbreak…

Notthat she’d know anything about heartbreak. At all. Nope.

“Hey,you finished yet?”

Witha sigh, Lightning pulled her gaze away from the window and stared atSazh, who was officially her adviser, but really played the role of ababysitter. It was insulting if she thought about it too much. “Doesit look like I’ve finished?”

“True.”Sazh waltzed up to her desk and pointedly stared at the pile ofpapers. “'Cause if you had finishedthis incredibly easy task, I bet you would’ve found me already andclaimed that poor ol’ Sazh was overworked and needed a vacation - ”

“Itried to give you a vacation after the ball,” Lightning pointedout, raising an eyebrow. “You told me I’d probably set the palaceon fire if you left for a day.”

“AndI’m probably right!”

“Doubtful.”Lightning rolled her eyes and tapped her pen against the papers infront of her a few times. “I’m fairly sure that I, a grown adultwho’s been taking care of herself since she was a teenager, couldeasily manage without you for a few days.”

“Keeptellin’ yourself that.” Sazh picked up one of the papers. “Whichone are you working on?”

“Theletter to Vanille.” DiaVanille had been an important guest at Lightning’s introduction balla few days ago. It was a gathering that had officially presented heras Eden’s princess, which, in turn, would hopefully open up newrelations. Now she was supposed to be writing letters of intent toget people on her side with whatever she planned to do as regent.

Despitefinding the whole practice completely ridiculous, Lightning actuallyhad gotten along fairly well with the Duchess of Luxerion, Vanille.She had to wonder if this was partially because her bodyguard wasfriends with the Duchess and that made it easier to like her.

Or…formerbodyguard, she supposed.

“Keepit short and sweet,” Sazh advised. “Vanille’s not much for longletters.”

“Andyou think I am?”

“Justlet me dream a little, geez. Kids these days.”

Lightningrolled her eyes again, her mind wandering to the ball. Chatting withVanille and her girlfriend Fang, the Princess of Oerba…dancing in adress that glittered with an obnoxious amount of diamonds…steppingonto the balcony with -

Ugh,okay, definitely not goingthere.

Aftera pause where she wrote a few words, Lightning glanced up. Sazh wasscribbling something in a book – probably grading her on heretiquette, hmph. “Was there something else you needed?”

“Yes,as a matter of fact.” Sazh stopped writing and plopped into a chairwithout any grace. If she’d done the same, he would’ve recoiled inhorror. “We didn’t really get a chance to talk after the ball.Gotta say, I’m impressed with how you handled things.”

“Itwas a glorified dance. Not too difficult.”

Thatwas a lie and they both knew it. Lightning had grown up in a suburbof Eden and then spent her teenage years in the slums – she’d neverbeen to any sort of dance, never mind a ball of the caliber that’dbeen held in her honor. Beingparaded around like a doll had been one of the most difficult thingsshe’d ever done. Luckily, she’d met Vanille and Fang very early onduring the night and their new-foundfriendship had made goingthrough the motions much easier.

Therewas someone else who’d helped out, but she preferred not to think toohard about that.

“Yeah,yeah.” Sazh waved a hand. “Keep tellin’ yourself that. And tellme your thoughts –anybody there you think we could strengthen an alliance with? Or formone? Technically, Eden’s always been on good terms with the otherkingdoms since Phoenix is the most important fal'cie, but there’salways room for improvement. See any of that? Or…” He raised aneyebrow. “Any potential suitors?”

Lightningducked her head, hoping against everything that the heat she feltsimmering under her skin was from a…hot flash or something. Yeah,that totally made sense. She wasn’t about to blush atthe thought of a certain personal bodyguard taking her to see astar-filled sky and light-studded city. There was definitely nothought of his hands on her, his lips caressing hers…

“Nosuitors,” she finally said, clearing her throat and daring to lookup. At least her face felt normal. “Serah seemed to like the Patronof Yusnaan, though.” She frowned.

“What,you got a problem with him?” Sazh looked faintly amused. “I knowhe’s just a kid, but then again, so are you.”

“Hejust seemed…” Lightning shook her head. There were only a fewwords she could think of to describe Snow Villiers, and none of themwere all that flattering. “But we’ve been on particularly goodterms with Yusnaan, so it doesn’t really matter. Fang seemed to likeme, so maybe we can strengthen ties with Oerba.”

“Thatgirl’s an odd one.” Sazh leaned back in his chair, looking lost inthought. “I’m pretty sure all she really gives a damn about isVanille. For awhile, it was lookin’ like Oerba and Luxerion wouldofficially join forces, possibly to try and topple Eden and take overPhoenix.”

Lightningraised her eyebrows. “Could they do that?”

“Probably.Ain’t like the fal'cie care that much.”

Shehad no idea if that was true. Lightning had yet to see Phoenix inperson since being found as the princess of Eden. “Do you thinkFang was trying to get on my good side, then? And then betray me whenleast expected?”

“Nahhh.If Vanille liked you, then Fang’s sure as hell not gonna mess withyou or anybody in Eden. And trust me, Vanille is as genuine as theycome. Kinda hard to believe she’s royalty sometimes.” Sazh sighedin exasperation. “I’ve worked with so many of you kids over theyears that I wonder if you all share the same stick up your ass.”

Insteadof biting back with a retort, Sazh’s comment made Lightning asksomething she’d been wondering for awhile. “That’s right – bothFang and Vanille said that they knew you. You were an adviser forsome members of the old family, too.”

“Gladto see you pay attention when I talk.”

“Thatdoesn’t make much sense, though,” Lightning continued, ignoringSazh’s comment. “You’re not even twice my age. You said you’ve beenserving the old family for years, but if you served Fang and Vanilletoo…”

“Inever told you?” Now Sazh looked confused, but also a littleconcerned. It was very strange to see him with an expression towardsher that wasn’t exasperation. “Huh, guess I wouldn’t have at thebeginning. And things have been so crazy with the ball andeverything…”

“Toldme what?”

Sazhundid the top two buttons of his shirt and tugged it down a bit. Itwas still hidden under some fabric, but there were a bunch oftelltale lines and intersecting arrows that made Lightning sit ramrodstraight in her chair, eyes widening a bit. She knew what it meantbefore Sazh even said the words.

“I’ma l'cie.”

Thestories had spread among the slums – scary children’s tales thatwould send Serah crying into her arms in fear. L'cie were warriorschosen by fal'cie and sent to fight their battles, using magic farmore powerful and horrifying than the average person was capable of.They would live forever until the fal'cie grew tired of them andended their misery with agony, only to gather new warriors and repeatthe cycle anew.

Sincethere hadn’t been a real war in centuries, l'cie were just terriblestories. Even though Lightning knew they were likely just that –stories – nobody she knew had ever met or been one, so itwas hard to say what was the truth or not.

Itwas true, however – recorded in history books and all –that l'cie were branded when they were made. The lines intersectingon Sazh’s skin perfectly matched what Lightning knew.

“You’re– how - ”

“Ohc'mon, you know damn well I’m not some war machine. I hear thosestories. Most of ‘em are totally untrue. Probably made up by somefanatic or anti-war group back in the day.” Sazh shrugged andbuttoned his shirt, hiding the brand from sight.

“Thenwhat is true?”

“One,we don’t live forever. But it does stretch things out a bit.” Hechuckled. “You pretty much stop physically aging once you’rebranded. Good thing, or I’d have half a century’s worth of gray hairfrom all you kids stressin’ me out.”

Lightningdid not laugh. She still felt something akin to horror, though Sazh’snonchalant attitude and her own logic were calming her down a bit.“But why were you branded? I’ve always heard that l'cie werejust tools for war.”

“LikeI said, stories.” Sazh waved a hand. “Yeah, sure, some were madefor war, but most l'cie are branded to carry out a certain purpose,whether for war or whatever else.”

“Andlet me guess,” Lightning said, her head starting to clear, “yourpurpose is to annoy me?”

“Close.”He chuckled again. “Nah, the old queen’s mother put in a good wordfor me with Phoenix. I kinda fell into the adviser role and the royalfamily was damn impressed. They asked if I wanted to do it forlonger, and well…” He shrugged. “Here I am. ‘Course, I’d go outto ally kingdoms or whatnot. In Duchess Vanille’s case, her parentsdied when she was barely a kid, so I kept an eye on her. I only knowPrincess Fang through her, though.”

“Isee.” And she did, actually. The initial shock had finally wornoff. Honestly, she couldn’t see why someone would want to live foryears and years doing the sort of thing Sazh did, but now she knewhow he was so good at his job…literal years of practice. “And I’mguessing this is common knowledge among the other royals?”

“Well,yeah. I’m everywhere, you know.” He tapped the side of his head.“Can’t do much to hide that.”

“Isuppose not.” Of course she was the last to know…but then again,she always seemed to be the last to know things lately, sowhat did one more thing matter?

“Onthat note, I’ve got some other things I need to do.” The tone inSazh’s voice had gone so serious that it made Lightning glance upfrom her letter and frown in confusion.

“Whatthings?”

“Geez,so nosy.” He shook his head. “Don’t you worry about it. Finishyour letters and I’ll have one of the assistants come in andproofread them.”

Sherolled her eyes. “Sure.”

Hewas already halfway out the door, but still called out as thought heactually had eyes in the back of his head. “I saw that!”

Lightningshook her head and stared back down at her letter to Vanille, tappingher pen against the paper a few times. Even though it’d been quitesome time since she’d been found as Eden’s princess, the formalityand unspoken rules still baffled her. Ever since meeting a bunch ofthem at her introduction ball, however, she’d seen that many of themfound some of the rules and etiquette archaic as well.

Sowhy did they have to do it?

Shesighed heavily and slumped in her chair – a posture that Sazh wouldfrown upon, but for once, she was blessedly alone. Not even a maidwas to be seen, although she could hear people puttering in thehallways outside her office. It was so rare these days she couldactually be by herself. Usually she at least had her personalbodyguard with her…

“No,”she muttered, chiding herself. She would not think about him.She would not wonder where he’d gone after running from her atthe ball, and she would certainly not replay the images oftheir kiss in her mind.

Nope.Not her.

Lightningheaved another sigh and shoved the papers aside, going back tostaring out the window. Concentration was clearly useless, at leastfor now. She may as well take advantage of Sazh not being around todemand her to do stuff.

–

Itwas only a few days later when she got the news.

Shewas in the sitting area of her suite, talking to Serah on the phone –an encrypted, ridiculously secure line, of course. Actually beingable to see her sister would’ve been better, but Serah wascompletely swamped with work at the university and couldn’t get away.

Therewas always, however, time for a phone call.

“Ijust don’t get what you see in him,” Lightning muttered, scribblingin the margins of her scrap paper. She was still working on thoseletters and had been trying to think of good things to say SnowVilliers, Patron of Yusnaan. It was exceedingly difficult.

Forher, anyway.

“He’sso sweet!” Serah basically swooned over the phone. “And don’t youthink he’s handsome? I wonder if he’ll wear the same outfit at myintroduction ball.”

Lightningfrowned. “He’s a big lug that kept stepping on my feet.”

“Notto mention that you can tell he really cares about his people.”Serah kept going on like her sister had said nothing. “Maybe it’sbecause he was elected? I mean, I know you care about everyone in thekingdom, but some of the other royals who have lived it since theywere born….it’s different for them. Don’t you think so?”

Unconsciously,Lightning’s grip on her phone tightened. He’d said that to her morethan once.

Youknow what it’s like on the other side. You’ll be able to bring realchange.

Herstomach fluttered and she willed the door to knock – something,anything to let her know that her personal bodyguard wascoming back.

Knock-knock.

Shestared at the door. Could it be…?

“YourHighness?”

Hershoulders drooped so quickly that she nearly dropped the phone. Sherecognized the quiet voice of Yeul, one of her maids. With a heavysigh, she called out, “Just a moment!”

“Sis?Do you want me to leave?”

“Sorry,Serah.” Lightning heaved another sigh. “I have to go. I’ll callyou back tonight, okay?”

“Okay!I should probably get back to all this homework.” Her tone grewteasing. “You think they’d let a princess catch a break.”

“Ifyou’d wanted to catch any breaks, you wouldn’t have applied to themost prestigious university in the world,” Lightning teased back.“I’ll talk to you later.”

“Okay.Love you!”

“Youtoo.”

Anotherquiet knock sounded at the door. This time, Lightning stood, herposture automatically straight as she smoothed down her clothes. Asthere hadn’t been anything urgent on her schedule for the day, she’dopted for comfortable slacks and a thin cashmere sweater – clothingshe’d take over diamond-studded ball gowns any day.

“Comein.”

Yeulentered the room, dropping into a curtsy. All of the servantscontinued to be ridiculously formal around her, despite herinsistence otherwise. It was sort of why she appreciated Sazh naggingher all the time, though hell would freeze over before she’d admitit.

Andspeak of the devil…

“Mr.Katzroy requests that you join him in the conference room, YourHighness.”

Lightningfrowned, the request immediately striking her as odd. Usually Sazhsought her out himself when he needed something, or at least wouldbring her to whatever room he needed. Especially since this palacewas ridiculously huge and she still didn’t always know her wayaround.

“Conferenceroom?”

“Yes.”Yeul bowed her head. “Allow me to escort you.”

“Sure.”Lightning was all too happy to leave her papers and thoughts ofwriting to Snow behind…although surely whatever Sazh had plannedfor her would be just as annoying.

Itturned out she wasn’t too far off.

Yeulmurmured something into a speaker that was attached to the earpieceshe was wearing, presumably telling her coworkers where she was. Therest of the walk was fairly quiet, which was fine with her. Lightningwas more than okay with staring at the paintings and pricelessartifacts that adorned the walls. A lot of them were portraits of herextremely distant ancestors. Apparently she and Serah would have tosit for portraits at some point and then they’d be on the wallsforever. It was a very weird thought.

Whenthe finally reached the conference room, Yeul curtsied again beforeopening one of the wide doors. “Her Highness, Princess Lightning,has arrived,” she called, her soft voice echoing into the emptyroom.

“Thanks,”Lightning said, nodding at Yeul before she stepped inside. There wasa weird flash of gold that struck Yeul’s eyes, but it was probablyjust glare from all the artifacts around them. Weird.

Theconference room was huge, with tons of folded seats and what lookedlike a stage and podium. It reminded her a bit of a theater withoutthe screen. “Sazh?”

“Overhere.” He was off to the side, where there was a table and somechairs covered with papers. She hurried over to him. “Always makin’an old man wait, huh?”

“Yeah,yeah.” It felt weird to comment on that since now she had a roughidea of just how old Sazh really was. “How come you calledme here?”

“Nobodyever uses this room and I wanted to inform you of something inprivate.”

Instantly,Lightning’s heart began to pound. For whatever reason, her firstthought was of the night of the ball. Had someone seen them out onthe balcony? Was there some protocol about a princess and herbodyguard sharing a kiss?

“It’sabout your coronation.”

Shelet out a huge breath she hadn’t even known she’d been holding,slumping in her seat a bit. She ignored the evil eye Sazh gave her.“What about it?”

“Asyou know, the old family kept their power tightly reigned.” Themore he spoke, the more serious Sazh became. It was weirdlyoff-putting. “All of the descendants have been, more or less,direct from the first king. Kinda a cut and dry family tree, evenwith all the marriages and what have you.”

“Right.”Lightning vaguely recalled this when she’d been forced to study theold family. The crown almost always went to the firstborn son ordaughter, which wasn’t so unusual for royalty, she supposed, but thefamily tree was streamlined to the point where many of thefirstborn’s siblings rarely got married or had children of their own.It was why she and Serah being a part of all of this was basicallyunprecedented.

Veryweird.

“LikeI told you, I’ve had some dealings with the old family. And I’m notthat old to remember the first king, but there’s a reason theykept the family as it was.”

“Sazh,please.” Lightning was rapidly running out of patience. She wasn’treally sure why, but something in her just wanted to hear thenews already. “Get to the point.”

“Soimpatient,” he muttered. “Okay, fine – long story short – thecoronation and ruling status are only valid with approval fromPhoenix.”

Itfelt like a block of ice had suddenly dropped in her stomach,although it took her a moment to rationalize why. “Approval?”“Yes.”The serious tone in Sazh’s voice grew. “You meet with the fal'ciein a special one-on-one ceremony. Phoenix will brand you as the nextruler of Eden. Not like a l'cie,” he added hastily, whenLightning’s gaze focused on the spot where his brand was hidden.“There’s no permanent mark, although it lasts 'til you’reofficially crowned. Then you’re free to rule as you please.”

Theice turned to lead in her gut. “Okay, so I meet with Phoenix andit…approves of me.” She frowned. “Why tell me this in secrecy?This is probably common knowledge among the royals, right?”

“Yeah.Some of the others brand their rulers like this too, but Phoenix isthe most important because, well…obvious reasons and all.”

“Isee.” The perfect placeholder reply, because this whole thing madeher feel…uneasy. Phoenix was arguably the most importantfal'cie in the world. Without the sun and life it provided, therewould be no world. The fal'cie from other kingdoms couldeasily be replaced with hard work and effort from humanity.

Butthe sun? There was no replacement for that.

Theenormity of her role in the world suddenly hit her like a train. Itdidn’t matter if her sister or the other royals or certain personalbodyguards believed in her. She’d never been very good at followingrules and had always thought of herself as very independent. The factthat she was to be in charge of everything under somethingelse’s power made her want to take a sword to Phoenix just to rid theworld of it, so humanity could try to thrive on its own.

Notthat she would – or could – ever admit this out loud.

“There’sone other thing,” Sazh added when she said nothing more.

Lightningrolled her eyes a little, mostly out of habit. “What?”

Hedidn’t comment on her rudeness. “I know for a fact thatyou’re part of the royal bloodline. Ol’ Sazh did his research. Youdon’t even want to know what dusty old books and old familyrecords I had to look up to find you and your sister.”

“You’vementioned this.” She raised an eyebrow. “Many times, in fact.”

“'Causeit’s true.” There was a pause before his voice went grave.“However, if Phoenix doesn’t approve of you for whatever reason ordecides you’re not worthy of the power to rule…”

Lightningwaited a moment for him to finish, but she knew what he meant when hetrailed off. This, maybe, was the source of her instant uneasinesswhen he’d started talking. It was everything she hadn’t known she wasdreading since coming into the conference room.

“…Phoenixwill kill me.” She met his eyes. “Won’t it?”

“There’snot much of a chance it’ll disapprove of you,” Sazh repliedquickly. She wondered who he was trying to convince. “Like I said,I did my research and you’re a part of the bloodline. I’ve heardthat’s all it really cares about. It’s not like the fal'cie reallygive a damn about human affairs, y'know?”

“Right.”She ignored the unsaid words – there was still that chance Phoenixwould cast her aside and everything would be for nothing.

Betterme than Serah.

Thatwas what it always came down to, the first thought her instinct wentto. Serah was the one who deserved a comfortable life withresponsibilities chosen by her and not some rule or bloodline. It wasbecause of her sister that Lightning had worked her ass off when theywere still in the slums, doing everything she could to give Serahever opportunity possible.

Shenever thought there was the possibility it could lead to her death.

Butwhat about her role now? Though she hadn’t asked for any of this, shewas slowly finding herself eager to make changes around the kingdomof Eden and make things better for people who weren’t long-lostmembers of the royal family.

“You’veseen both sides. I think that’ll eventually come to be your biggeststrength.”

Eventhough she kept trying not to think about a certain personalbodyguard, his words from the ball popped into her head. She’d alwaystaken his reassurance to heart, but now it had a thousand times moremeaning.

Thoughshe would never deny that Serah had also suffered in the past,Lightning had always watched out for her and sacrificed somuch to ensure that her needs were met. Their experiences weredifferent because of that.

Nobodyhad ever looked out for Lightning until now.

Andbecause of that, she was the only one who could truly changethings.

Shewas quiet for another moment as though contemplating, but short ofrunning away, there was really only one answer. There had only everbeen one answer.

Lightningsucked in a breath and met Sazh’s eyes, trying to steel herself withdetermination.

“Whatdo I need to do before meeting with Phoenix?”

–

Aswith practically everything related to this princess business, thepre-ceremony rituals were completely over the top and ridiculous.Someday she’d realize that nobody around here ever did things simply.

Overthe next couple of days, she rehearsed the ancient words that wouldsummon Phoenix to an audience with her. A handful of older maids –ones that had been tasked with all of the ritual business with theold family – helped her with cleansing baths and created theceremonial outfit. They were all sworn to secrecy.

Shefigured that made sense. If she was killed by Phoenix, it’d beeasier in the long run to play it off as some kind of accident ratherthan the most important fal'cie in the world rejecting her.

Butshe tried not to think about that. Besides the maids – and Sazh, ofcourse – the only other person who knew about the upcoming ceremonywas Serah, and that was simply because there was no way shewas keeping this a secret from her sister.

Lightningdidn’t mention the risks, though. Some things were better kept quiet.

“Snowtalks to Pandaemonium sometimes,” Serah mused over the phone. Itwas the night before Lightning’s meeting with Phoenix and she decidedshe’d needed the distraction. “Maybe he could give you advice!”

“Idon’t want any advice from that big lug.” She rolled her eyes, notwanting to admit she was curious, but… “…Talks to it how?”

Serah’svoice was a little knowing, but she didn’t tease. “He told me it’snot so much words. It’s not like conversing with a person – thefal'cie send images and they get clearer the more you have a mutualunderstanding.” She hummed a little. “Maybe it’s easy for himbecause he was elected the Patron.”

“Ormaybe his head’s so empty that the images come easier because there’snothing in the way.”

“Sis.”Serah huffed in exasperation. “Be nice.”

“I’dbe nicer if you were less interested in him.”

“Buthe’s so sweet!”

“Hmph.”This was what she wanted to worry about – who was goodenough for her sister and ridiculous things like that…not if thefal'cie who basically sustained the world was going to kill her.

Shecouldn’t let herself think about it.

Luckily,Serah was eager to keep chatting – mostly about Snow, toLightning’s disgust – and her nerves settled somewhat. Her sisterwas the one person who could distract her from this whole princessthing.

Well,her and another person, but she didn’t want to think about him,either.

Thenight passed quickly and soon Lightning was too tired to even hold upthe phone. She fell asleep quickly without having time to dwell onthe ceremony the next day. Just as planned.

Ironically,the sun woke her gently the following morning, which was a nicechange from her alarm going off or someone knocking on her door. Infact, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d woken up so calmly.

Ifonly it was enough to make up for what was about to happen.

Thecalm was unfortunately short-lived, because about thirty secondsafter she’d stood up and stretched, someone knocked at her door.

“YourHighness?”

Lightningsighed heavily, immediately recognizing the voice of the oldest ofthese in-the-know maids. “Come in.”

Therewere three of them and they filed in slowly, their hands clasped infront as they walked. She realized this was an incredibly serious andformal situation, but the realness of it smacked her in the face atthe sight of the maids looking so grave. That lead block that’dformed in her gut when Sazh initially told her about all of hisreturned in full force.

“Thisway.” One of the maids gestured to her ensuite bathroom, whereanother maid was already running the water. Lightning could see heradding special oils and herbs to the tub, apparently part of thewhole cleansing ritual.

Shewas already long used to shedding her modesty in front of otherpeople since this whole princess thing had become a part of her life,but she’d never hated it more than she had at this second. Undressingand slipping into the tub in front of the others just made this wholething feel weird and awkward and way more serious than she wanted itto be. It didn’t help that she knew arguing was useless; the oldestmaid had a glare that could probably take down Sazh – a trait she’dlove to learn, to be honest. Maybe she’d ask for lessons later.

Providedshe survived Phoenix’s judgment, of course.

Withthat thrilling thought in mind, Lightning allowed herself to be driedafter the bath and wrapped in a robe. She had to admit that whateverhad been added to the bath made her skin feel like new. There’d neverbeen any time or money to bother with girly lotions and potionsbefore Sazh had found them, but maybe there was some merit in it.

Onceshe was sufficiently dry, she was led into her enormous walk-inwardrobe, where the ceremonial gown was waiting for her. It wasactually quite a beautiful dress – a flowing garment in shades ofgold, white, and blue. There was a cape with a long train attached tothe back, maybe just to add to the ridiculousness. Phoenix’s brandwas embroidered along the edges in gold.

Themaids helped her into the gown and simple gold shoes. One of themclasped a gold bracelet with multicolored stones around her wrist.

“What’sthis?” Lightning asked, lifting her arm to inspect the bracelet. Anumber of jewels were kept in her wardrobe and a lot were in storage,but she was fairly sure she’d never seen this one before. It wasweirdly flashy and simple at once.

“Agift from Phoenix, Your Highness,” the youngest of the maidsanswered (although 'young’ in this case was about eighty years old).“It’s said that that fal'cie itself put it on the wrist of thefirst king. Ever since then, it’s been a tradition to wear it to theMeeting.”

Lightningsuddenly lost all interest in the bracelet and dropped her arm. “Oh.”

Thefinal part of her outfit was a headpiece that fit snugly in her hair.Long lines of gold extended from the band in varying lengths, thelongest about a foot. It formed a semicircle around her head – madeto resemble rays of the sun, she realized as she looked in a mirror.

“Whenyou’re ready, we’ll escort you,” the oldest maid said after apause.

“…Right.”Lightning let out a breath. “Let’s get this over with.”

Ifany of them found her comment weird, they made no mention. Instead,they simply ushered her out of her suite. The hallway – whichusually had people milling about cleaning and whatnot – was emptyexcept for them. Two of the maids stood on either side and one was infront to lead the way.

Theywalked like that the whole time in silence, the only sound being thewhoosh of her cape flowing over the floor. Usually Lightning reveledin quiet, but this silence felt way too heavy. It carried foreboding.

Doom.

Still,all she did was recite her summoning words in her mind, hoping shewouldn’t forget them. She’d never been one to crack under pressure,but this was a whole different level.

Itseemed like they’d walked for miles before they finally stopped infront of an enormous door. Lightning realized she’d actually passedthis area a handful of times, but the door was nondescript and tuckedaway, so she’d never given thought to what could be behind it.

Themaid in front slowly pulled the door open. Sunlight poured in and shetried not to squint at the glare.

“Wecan go no further,” the maid said. “Please head forward for yourceremony.”

“Thanks.”

Theyall curtsied in unison as she stepped into the light, not risinguntil the door slowly creaked shut behind her. Forget the lead in hergut; her stomach was doing cartwheels by now.

“Thatyou?”

Lightningnever thought she’d be so damn grateful to hear Sazh’s voice. She letout a breath she hadn’t known she’d been holding and hurried over –as much as she could in this outfit, anyway – and even though hestill looked grave and serious, it was still a relief to be aroundsomeone normal.

Well,normal to her, anyway.

“Ididn’t think you’d be here,” she said, trying to sound composed. “Ithought it might be against the rules or whatever.”

Despitethe serious expression on his face, Sazh smirked a little. “Whathave I been tellin’ you? There’s no getting rid of me. Besides, youhave any idea what you’re doing right now?”

Lightninglooked around the room for the first time. It was weirdly bright andwhite, though she could vaguely make out ornate designs on the wallsin gold. Ahead of her was more brightness and – was that fog?

Yeah,she was totally lost.

“Thoughtso,” was all Sazh replied at the look on her face. “All right,lemme lead you through it. Ask your questions or forever hold yourpeace.”

“Justtell me how to get to Phoenix,” she replied. “I want to get thisover with.”

“Fairenough.” He shook his head in exasperation and then gestured to theweirdly bright, foggy area in front of them. “Head forward untilyou see a crystal. It’ll be floating in midair, so try not to freak.”

“I’veseen freakier things.”

“Yeah,yeah.” He rolled his eyes, which was oddly comforting. “Once youget to the crystal, hold cup your hands around it.” Sazh held uphis own hands to demonstrate. “Then recite the summons you’veundoubtedly memorized. That should take you right to Phoenix.”

Lightningheld up her hands in the same way Sazh had. “Crystal, hands,recite. I think I’ve got it.”

“Youdo.” He stared at her a moment and then sighed, bowing his head abit before nodding. “You really do. You’ve got this.”

Ifthat was his way of saying he was sure she’d survive…the confidenceactually worked somewhat. Much to her annoyance, Sazh really did knowa lot and she trusted him. It was not guarantee, but at leastit was something.

“Right,”she murmured, squaring her shoulders. “I’ll be back.”

“We’llbe waiting.”

Asshe headed into the fog, Lightning could’ve sworn she heard somefootsteps echoing behind her, but she did not dare to look over hershoulder. Eyes front. If she lost her nerve now, she’d never be ableto do this again.

Timelost all meaning as she walked through the light and fog. There wasno comfort in it, but oddly enough, she had no fear, either. MaybeSazh’s confidence in her had actually worked. Maybe it was becauseshe had to survive for Serah.

Maybeit was because, according to a certain personal bodyguard, she couldbring about real change.

Shehad no idea how long she’d walked before the crystal appeared infront of her. It was shaped a bit like a diamond and reflectedrainbows into the whiteness around her. Just as she was supposed to,she hovered her hands around it and closed her eyes, bowing her headas she spoke.

“OMighty fal'cie Phoenix, I seek you so that I may govern in yourblessed name. Guide me to your knowing light so that I may humblygaze upon you.”

Shefelt stupid chanting the words, especially since she wasn’t quitesure how much she believed in them. Apparently belief didn’t matter,though, because the crystal suddenly blinded her – even though hereyes were still closed – and she had the sensation of movement. Itfelt like falling, but she was still upright. Lightning didn’t dareopen her eyes in case it broke some kind of spell. Sazh hadn’tmentioned any of this! She was definitely going to rant at himwhen she got back.

Ifshe got back.

Whenthings finally stilled, Lightning took a moment to breathe, her eyesstill closed. It was extremely unusual for her to just stand aroundand put herself in any sort of vulnerable position, but what wasn’tunusual about all of this?Surely a breather wasn’t out of line.

Therewas about ten second of silence before an unfamiliar rumbling noiseand a flash of head made her finally open her eyes. She could notcontain the gasp that ripped through her at what was before her.

“Phoenix.”

Thefal'cie was long and skinny on both ends, with smaller pieces of itsbody – was that a body? - extending from it. Whether theseparts were something otherworldly, nature, machine – she had noidea. In the middle it was round, filled with a light so bright thatshe couldn’t stare for long.

Itwas nothing like she had ever seen or imagined.

Ofcourse she had seen fal'cie before. Most everyone had. There weresmaller ones that worked in separate jurisdictions in Eden, doingvarious tasks like providing electricity or things for export. Notall of them in other kingdoms made themselves hidden, either. Theywere just a part of the landscape and a part of life thatnobody really took notice of them.

Nowshe understood why Phoenix was hidden away.

Itwas impossible not to take notice.

Lightningstepped forward unconsciously, not sure if she wanted to run towardsit or away. She felt dazed, which was not a sensation she wasa fan of, but what else could she do?

Therewas noise coming from the fal'cie, but she wasn’t sure if it wastrying to speak or if that was just how it sounded naturally. Surelysomething so massive and powerful couldn’t be completely silent.

Thesounds were like screams and whispers all at once, having thestrength to ruffle her gown and cape, but somehow not loud enough tohear. Something about it made her want to take a sword to the massivebeing in front of her, but who was she to deny the world of this?

Andthen it happened.

Phoenixcried out and a beam of light shot right towards her, too quickly toavoid. It scorched her chest, painful yet not. She could feel theswirls and intricacies of Phoenix’s brand, letting it become a partof her and she now was of it.

Blurry,hurried images flooded into her mind. Lightning vaguely recalledSerah mentioning Snow’s experience with his fal'cie, that the imagesbecame clearer with mutual understanding.

Butshe and Phoenix had no understanding. She still couldn’t tellwhether she hated it or wanted to give thanks. There was anunderlying buzz of Phoenix not knowing what to make of her, either –just that she was of the bloodline and she could ruleunscathed.

Theimages she saw were most of people she only vaguely recognized fromthe portraits in the palace – memories of her extremely distantancestors. Some were of the stars and moon, extensions of the fal'ciefrom even farther away than this. One image would come, only to beimmediately replaced by another, and she could make no real sense ofthem.

Untilthat moment.

“Hope?!”

Everythingwas still so fast, but now Lightning willed her mind to slow,anything so that she could sort out why Phoenix was showingher images of her personal bodyguard.

Shesaw Hope, handsome as ever, talking to a group of people in a glassbuilding that gleamed with perfection.

Anotherof him in a white and yellow outfit that seemed strangely familiar –but it wasn’t the garb he wore as her bodyguard.

Himtalking to a shorter woman who, again, seemed oddly familiar.

Hiseyes sliding to look at Phoenix.

Hishands working on something that could have been otherworldly, nature,or machine.

Hisgaze on her for a thousand different reasons, most worthy of asecret.

Hisshame as he ran off from her at ball.

Inthat instant, something clicked in Lightning’s mind, though her heartwas pounding and her breath was coming too fast to really sort itout. The images abruptly stopped and the brand on her chest cooled.

“Howdo you expect me to - ”

Shedidn’t get to finish her sentence before there was that sensation offalling again. Phoenix had dismissed her?! She’d survived itsjudgment, but for what?

Therewas no making sense of it. Time had no meaning.

Whenshe stopped falling, Lightning opened her eyes in a daze and emergedfrom the light, a bit surprised to see Sazh, but also -

“Hope,”she whispered, her heart pounding again. It was too much for her bodyand mind. Her knees shook and she pitched forward.

Butlike any good personal bodyguard, Hope raced to her, his eyes widewith panic as he caught her. She settled into his arms so easily –too easily.

“Light,”he said, her name hardly a gasp. His eyes darted to Phoenix’s brand,which was on the left side of her chest, impossible to miss againsther pale skin. “Light, why? Whydid you do it?”

She stared up at him, a thousandimages replaying in her mind in an instant. How could she possiblyput them together in a way that made sense?

But maybe shealready had.

Her hand reached up to shakily brushsome of his bangs from his worried face. Worried for who, shewondered?

“You’re not a bodyguard,” shemurmured.

Theneverything went black.

55 notes · View notes

violetwolfraven · 4 years ago

Text

Blood and Kisses

((Just a jomike flangst (kinda fluff kinda angst) one shot. Mostly angst tho. Nobody asked for this but y’all can’t stop me.))

Tw: Internalized homophobia, blood, and the word ‘queer’ but not used as a slur.

...

Jojo moved as fast as he could through the streets, ignoring the various aches in his body.

He had to find Mike.

After getting soaked by the bulls, there had been a lot of confusion. The only really clear thought any of them had was that they had to get away, had to get to the Lodging House. They had first aid supplies there, and though some dislocated limbs had to be treated in the alleyway most of them rendezvoused in, the pain of moving was largely set aside in favor of getting somewhere safe.

Race and Davey were splitting the duties of leader between them, with Race making sure everyone’s injuries got tended to and Davey checking to see who they were missing besides Crutchie, who they knew had been arrested, and Jack, who’s absence everyone had noticed immediately.

Davey’s headcount came up a few short. They were missing Elmer and Mike, among others.

So, Davey had picked a few of the least-injured guys to help him look for their lost friends.

Jojo wasn’t one of the least-injured guys. He had enough bruised ribs that it hurt to breathe and his knees were scraped up from getting shoved on the ground.

But he had to go, anyway. He had to know if Mike was alright, no matter what Davey and Race said.

It had never fully registered in Jojo’s mind until now that he cared about Mike more than any of the other guys, but he did. The twin was probably his best friend, not that he’d ever had a best friend before him to know how that felt.

Mike made him bolder. The old Jojo never would have snuck out of the Lodging House, even to go find someone who might be hurting somewhere. But whenever he started to lose his nerve, he kept thinking of Mike’s laugh when he told a joke, Mike’s patience when he didn’t get a social cue, Mike’s friendliness when they first met, which had never gone away.

He had to find Mike.

This was significantly harder than normal, trying to lay low with cops everywhere and move quickly and check every alley and behind every dumpster.

Not many people were close with the twins. Davey had become fast friends with them by a) being a twin with his sister, Sarah, and b) being able to tell them apart right off the bat. But he hadn’t known any of the Newsies very long and with Ike too hurt to look, Jojo was probably the only one who might know where an injured, disoriented Mike would run off to.

“Mike?” he called as he finally thought to check behind Jacobi’s.

A soft groan was the only response he got, but it was enough.

Jojo rounded the dumpster and found a barely conscious boy, banged up halfway to hell on the ground.

But alive. He was alive. That was enough.

“Mike!”

Jojo managed to drag him up to a seated position, but Mike really wasn’t responding. Blood ran down the side of his face from a gash on his temple. He was clearly super out of it.

“Mike, can you look at me? What hurts?”

“Besides everythin’?” Mike mumbled. He laughed weakly, his eyes half closed as they met Jojo’s.

“We need to get you back to the Lodging House,” Jojo muttered, “Race’ll be able to help, and Buttons, if he ain’t too busy. Maybe Davey, when he gets back. Oh, yeah, we couldn’t find Elmer. And Finch is missing, too, but you’re okay, so I’m sure they are—“

“Jojo...”

The soft tone in his voice made Jojo stop, freezing as one of Mike’s hands touched his cheek. Jojo grabbed his other hand and squeezed.

“I’m here.”

“I don’t feel so good.”

“You’re gonna be fine,” Jojo said, stretching his sleeve over his fingers to try to wipe some of the blood off his friend’s face.

The wound was smaller than he was expecting, but he guessed head wounds always bled more than they were worth.

Still... this one looked deep.

“In case I ain’t...” Mike whispered, “And even if it ain’t today, even if it ain’t during the strike... I just... I need ya to know...”

“Know what?” Jojo asked. He was tempted to tell him to save his strength, to tell him later, but blood kept trickling down the side of his face no matter how much he tried to wipe it away.

“I can’t... I ain’t much good with words. And I can’t really think at all right now, so...”

He was trying to lean forward, and Jojo leaned a little closer, too, anticipating a secret whispered in his ear.

Instead, Mike’s hand on his cheek guided him into an exhausted kind of kiss.

Jojo froze. Inside, he remembered everything the nuns had ever told him about this kind of thing and this was wrong wrong wrong—

Mike looked a little sad when he pulled back and saw Jojo’s wide eyes, the way he hadn’t moved at all, the shock that had to be written all over his face. The look in his eyes said that he’d half expected this reaction.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, before his eyes fell closed, his chin falling against his chest.

“Mike?”

Despite having no idea what to do, no idea what to think, because Jojo’s best friend was a queer, his best friend was queer for him, his best friend just kissed him and it was Jojo’s first kiss and this was supposed to be wrong—

Despite all of that, Jojo was still overcome with relief when he checked and found that Mike’s pulse was still strong.

“Jojo? What the hell are ya doin’ outside the—oh my God, Mike?”

“He’s alive,” Jojo told Tommy Boy numbly, “Just unconscious.”

“Okay, good. C’mon, we gotta get him back to the Lodging House. It’s dark enough that we can carry him and nobody’ll be around to question.”

Tommy picked Mike up over his shoulders as Jojo got to his feet.

“Are you okay?” he asked, “Ya look like you’s seen a ghost, Jojo.”

Jojo just shrugged. He didn’t want to lie, because he was not okay, but he didn’t feel like talking to anyone about what just happened.

He kind of wondered if Ike knew. No one else did, surely, because if they did, Mike would be out on the streets, but as his twin, he of all people would, right?

He wasn’t going to tell anyone, but Jojo didn’t know how he could stay in Manhattan after this.

Because as wrong as kissing his very male best friend was supposed to feel, there was a part of Jojo that had thought it felt right.

...

Though avoiding problems was not usually a good way to deal with them, Jojo spent the next couple weeks, even after the strike ended, avoiding this one.

He couldn’t face Mike. Not with what had happened. Because even if it had just been because of the injury, the way he’d been talking had made it sound like he’d really, genuinely wanted to do that.

He’d genuinely wanted to kiss Jojo, which...

Which was impossible to reconcile.

Because Mike was good. He was a good person who cracked jokes when everyone needed to hear them most and was stubborn enough to stick with a stike that could have and very nearly did end in his death.

How could someone that good be a sinner?

He almost thought said apparently-a-sinner was right in front of him until he spent more than ten seconds looking the guy in the eyes.

“Ike.”

“What happened?”

“What?”

“I’m a dumbass, Jojo. I ain’t stupid. My brother’s avoidin’ you and you’s avoidin’ him and it bothers both of you.”

Jojo sighed. He should have guessed Ike of all people would know.

“So, are ya tellin’ me what happened?”

Jojo’s gut twisted in guilt at the memory he couldn’t shake.

Warm, gentle lips against his own, the taste of Mike’s blood where it had ran down his face and caught on the corner of his mouth.

Complete and total shock, kind of a complete mental shutdown.

A part of him buried deep, deep down that was feeling and enjoying and wanting that kiss.

God help him, Jojo had dreamed of it more than once in the last couple weeks, except in the dreams, his inhibitions were gone, and...

He told himself that they were just dreams. He couldn’t control them, and it was only natural they’d elaborate on confusing circumstances.

God, this was so confusing. It was Mike, who was good and kind and funny and it didn’t make sense for him to be a sinner. It didn’t make sense for a part of Jojo to enjoy his best friend’s kiss. None of this made sense.

Ike probably deserved to know. At least... part of it. Why Jojo and Mike weren’t talking.

“You remember when I found Mike behind Jacobi’s?”

“‘Course. Why?”

Jojo took a deep breath, “He was probably just delirious and not thinking straight, but... he... he kind of kissed me.”

The end of that statement came out as a whisper. Jojo hadn’t intended that, but he didn’t necessarily want anyone to know, so...

“Oh. Okay. That explains a lot.”

...what?

Jojo had expected him to jump to his twin’s defense with some kind of explanation or threat to keep Jojo from telling anyone else, but... what Ike said next definitely wasn’t that.

“I’m guessin’ by the look on your face, you didn’t enjoy it?”

“...sorry?”

“I mean, I’ve been told Mike’s a good kisser, but I never believed it,” Ike said nonchalantly, “I guess I should cut him some slack for bein’ half-unconscious, but...”

Jojo couldn’t even begin to process what was happening right now.

“Wait...” Ike’s smile faded, “Oh, shit. I don’t remember hearin’ of ya bein’ with anyone since ya moved into the Lodging House, so... was your first kiss was a terrible one behind a dumpster with my stupid brother? I’m so sorry!”

“Ike,” Jojo tried to summon his thoughts, “Ike, well... yes, that was my first kiss, but you’re... it’s not... Mike is a boy!”

Ike rolled his eyes, “Obviously. What did ya think he— oh. I guess ya... didn’t know. ‘Bout him bein’ queer.”

So Ike did know. That was the only thing here that was expected.

Jojo sighed, “It doesn’t make sense.”

“Why not?”

“Boys likin’ other boys is wrong, and Mike is a good person. I don’t understand.”

“Who told ya boys likin’ other boys is wrong?”

Ike looked confused, and maybe a little offended, too when Jojo looked at him.

“The nuns.”

Ike rolled his eyes, “Didn’t they also tell ya that girls aren’t supposed to dress like boys? Ya know—like Sniper and Smalls do?”

“Sniper and Smalls dress like that ‘cause it’s easier and more comfortable for ‘em.”

“Exactly. Not everythin’ the nuns say is right.”

“But—“ Jojo tried to protest, but Ike was already cutting him off.

“Jojo, you’s a smart boy. Do ya think anyone chooses who they love? Ya think fallin’ in love is a choice?”

“Of course not, but—“

“Jojo, if a boy falls for another boy, it ain’t his choice any more than if he fell for a girl. Same goes if a girl falls for another girl. You have no control over who you love. So how can it be wrong?”

Jojo was at a loss for words.

That actually made sense. The twins were usually jokesters, but Ike definitely wasn’t joking, now, and the point he was making was a valid one.

How could love be wrong when you didn’t control it?

Ike laughed, “Honestly, I’m shocked ya ain’t noticed anythin’ queer ‘round here until Mike kissed you. Damn near the entire group is.”

“Wait, what?”

“Damn, Jojo. Did ya think we all joked ‘bout Blink and Mush sneakin’ out together ‘cause they was friends?”

Jojo honestly hadn’t thought about it, like, at all. But now that he was thinking about it... God, most of his friends were paired up and had been since before he even came along. And if he took off the glasses of assumption... maybe they’d been flirting in front of him this whole time and he’d taken it as just playful banter.

And all of them were good people. They were all too good for their love to be anything less than natural and beautiful.

And if none of this was wrong, maybe Jojo could let himself think about certain things. Namely, his best friend kissing him and him enjoying it.

Ike grinned, “I think you and my brother need to have a talk.”

Jojo nodded, still halfway numb with shock.

Really, right now, his only real thought was that he needed to talk to Mike.

...

When he finally managed to get him alone the next day, Mike looked like he expected Jojo to punch him.

Jojo, of course, wasn’t going to. He could still see the wound that had almost killed the other boy, though it was healing well and mostly covered by his hair.

He was waiting for Jojo to make the first move, only Jojo didn’t know what to say.

He probably should have figured that out beforehand, but it was too late, now.

“I...” Jojo took a deep breath, “I think we needs to talk. About what happened behind that dumpster.”

Mike nodded, “Yeah, probably.”

Jojo had a lot of questions, but only one that felt relevant right now.

“Why’d ya do it?”

Mike looked over his shoulder, down the hallway towards the room where most of their friends were hanging out. By the sounds of it, Race was in the middle of beating everyone at poker, so they probably wouldn’t be walked in on, here. Jojo guessed that was a good thing.

He shrugged when he looked back on him, “I’m not gonna lie to you, Jojo.”

Jojo nodded, “Good.”

Mike looked a little surprised at that, but he took a deep breath.

“I kissed ya because I wanted to. I have, for a really long time. I thought you were cute the first day ya came here, and I that was before I even got to know ya. And behind that dumpster, I was really scared and I felt like I might never get another chance, so... well, and I was hurt. I woulda asked if I was in my right mind, but... are you gonna out me?”

Jojo was struck speechless by the amount of fear in his voice. Mike seemed to take his silence as a ‘yes.’

“I guess I don’t blame ya. Kissin’ someone without permission ain’t right, ‘specially when kissin’ that person could get both of ya arrested. I don’t particularly wanna go to jail, though, so’s I guess I’ll just grab what I can and run away some—“

“No,” Jojo interrupted.

Mike looked up from the floor.

“No,” Jojo repeated, “I don’t want ya to run away. I ain’t gonna out ya.”

It was Mike’s turn to be speechless.

“Mike, I...” Jojo took a deep breath, “I was raised to think a lot of things are wrong. And bein’ here with our friends, with you, I’ve unlearned most of it, at least enough that I’m workin’ on it. You and the others have given me a family, helped me so much, so... so when Ike tells me that most of the fellas is queer, it wouldn’t make sense for their love—somethin’ they don’t control, anyway—to be wrong. It makes them happy. They makes each other happy.”

Mike looked uncharacteristically uncertain, “What’re ya sayin’, Jojo?”

“I don’t mind,” Jojo clarified, “That you’re queer. I know you’re still you, and you’re my best friend. After all, even if I didn’t know, you’s been this way since we met, right?”

“Right,” Mike confirmed, finally starting to smile, “Nothin’s changed.”

Jojo hesitated, “I... wouldn’t say that.”

Mike’s smile dropped. He didn’t look as scared as before, but a bit of the fear was coming back.

“Ya wouldn’t?”

Jojo took a deep breath. No turning back now.

“You said you’s wanted to kiss me since we met.”

“That’s a bit of an exaggeration, but...”

Mike’s voice faltered as Jojo dared to step a bit closer. For some reason, it made Jojo smile, butterflies erupting in his stomach.

“That’s the smile,” Mike whispered.

Jojo tilted his head, confused, “What smile?”

“The smile that makes everyone else want to smile, too,” Mike responded, “It’s amazin’. You gots one of those smiles that lights up the whole world.”

That rendered Jojo completely unable to say anything for a few seconds, and he figured his face must be pretty good for Mike to laugh like that.

“You’re so cute.”

“You’re cute, too.”

Mike froze, and Jojo tried to swallow his nerves.

“I didn’t know before,” he mumbled, “But then you kissed me, and I couldn’t stop thinkin’ ‘bout it and I... I’m queer, too. For you, specifically.”

There was a beat of silence where neither of them moved, and then Mike smiled.

“Well, then, since I didn’t ask last time...”

Mike touched Jojo’s waist with one hand, light enough to give him goosebumps.

“Can I kiss you, Jojo de la Guerra?”

Jojo took a deep, shaky breath. He was still scared, the way he still was whenever he did anything the nuns back in Harlem would have disapproved of, but he knew what he wanted.

“Yes.”

Mike brought his free hand up to the side of Jojo’s face, pulling him in for a slow, gentle kiss.

God, if Jojo had enjoyed their first kiss, this was something he never could have imagined. He didn’t really know how, but he tried to kiss back, anyway, trying to ignore the little bit of awkwardness creeping into this.

“Good?” Mike asked quietly, pulling a couple inches away.

“Amazing,” Jojo answered, a little breathlessly.

He didn’t know what he was supposed to do now. He actually really wanted to kiss Mike again, but he didn’t really know how. He didn’t know if he should ask first or just lean in and go for it. He didn’t even know where he was supposed to put his hands to try to make sure he didn’t miss, so he was just kind of fidgeting with the sides of his pants.

“You can touch me, ya know,” Mike said, noticing.

“I’m sorry,” Jojo mumbled, “I don’t know what I’m doin’.”

“Oh, I know. That don’t matter to me. I’ll help ya figure it out. For now, how ‘bout this?”

Mike grabbed Jojo’s hands and put them on his shoulders. He put both of his hands on Jojo’s waist.

Jojo nodded, “This works. Can I..?”

“Of course.”

He had to say... kissing Mike got better every time he did it, and as... minutes, hours, who knew and who cared passed, Jojo liked to think he got a little better at it.

They jerked apart a little as they heard a whoop from the room where everyone else was.

“I guess Race is winnin’,” Jojo said awkwardly.

“He is.”

Jojo buried his face in Mike’s shoulder as they realized that Ike was standing only a few feet away, just leaning against the wall and grinning.

“Davey asked me to go find ya both,” he explained, “I swear, he’s becomin’ more like a worried mother hen every day. He actually said he expected you’d be together, but I’m sure this ain’t what he was thinkin’ of.”

Mike laughed, “Probably not. I mean, it’s been weeks and he still don’t get it when the rest of us tease you and Race for sneakin’ off to Brooklyn.”

“How long were ya standin’ there?” Jojo asked.

Ike shrugged, “Long enough. Don’t worry, I’m happy for ya. I gotta say: it’s about damn time.”

“I assume ya ain’t givin’ him a shovel talk,” Mike said, wrapping an arm around Jojo’s shoulders as he talked.

“Are you kiddin’ me? That’d be like givin’ a shovel talk to Elmer. There are just some people ya can’t try to scare. It’s a moral thing. Jojo, you ain’t gonna hurt Mike, right?”

“No?”

“Good. See? I believe him, so that’s good enough. How’s about we go join the game, now? There ain’t enough cards for everyone, but we can play as a team.”

Mike made eye contact with Jojo, “Ya don’t mind if I put this on hold to play some poker, right?”

Jojo shook his head, “Of course not. Race is gonna kick both your asses, but if ya don’t mind that, that’s your business.”

“I don’t mind. Let’s go!”

Of course, he didn’t know why anyone even tried to beat Race at poker, but Jojo was happy to just sit by his... were they sweethearts, or what, now? and ignore the smirks a few of his friends gave him, having read the signals of Ike looking smug, Mike looking happy, and Jojo blushing.

Jojo definitely would be thinking a lot about this later, but for the most part, he wasn’t afraid anymore.

#newsies #jomike #jojo x mike #jojo de la guerra #mike newsies #angst #ike newsies #violet’s writing

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littlebitoffanfic · 5 years ago

Text

I’ll Return

Fandom: The Hills Have Eyes (1977) Characters: Mars, Ruby, Fred, Jupiter Relationship: Mars/reader Request: What about a soulmate AU for some of the HHE characters? Like when you have your soulmate's name or first words to you on your wrist? For any character(s) you feel like, maybe some you haven't written for yet? A/N: I wrote this for Mars from the original. His character was then changed to Lizard in the remake, however he seems a lot more docile and afraid when around the father figure. Let me know if you’d like to see this with any other character 😊

You were thankful to find the gas station. Not because you were low on gas, although you could top up, but because you wanted to stretch your legs. As you pulled up, the gas attendant as there in a moment, unhooking the nozzle. “Morning, Miss.” He greeted with a nod. “Good morning. Could you fill it up?” You ask as you climb out of the drivers seat, rolling your head to stretch the kink in your neck. Reaching up, you rubbed the back of your neck, trying to help your discomfort. You didn’t notice the attendant freeze up upon seeing the black ink on your wrist. “Quite a name there.” He nods to your arm. “Yes, very unique. You’d think it would make it easy to find him, but no.” You looked down at the name that was scrawled across your wrist in black ink. Everyone had a name, but some people never meet who it belonged to. Like so many others, you searched for the owner of the name, which read Mars, but had little success. They were meant to be your soul mate, the person you’re meant to spend the rest of your life with. “What about you? You got a name?” The attendant asked. “[y/n].” You gave your name with a smile, your thoughts running back to the black ink. You were too wrapped in your thoughts that you didn’t notice the man with curly black hair sneaking up behind you until you were dragged, kicking and screaming into the house. You looked to the attendant in shock and horror as he put the hose back. He stood for a moment, rubbing his face with his hands before following. “Put her in the back room.” He gestured through the house and you kicked and screamed, but whoever was dragging you was far too strong. You were pushed into the room, stumbling and falling to the ground with a cry of pain. The shadow who had grabbed you was beside you, crouched over you as if making sure you were okay. But you didn’t move, keeping your gaze strictly on the ground but prepared to pounce if he touched you again. “Leave her be. Frightening the girl like that?” The attendant snapped at the man, who backed away from you. “Now get going! I’ll help yah but no point you staying round here for HIM to come looking for yah.” The man was gone from your sight, but you didn’t dare move straight away, instead looking to the door. He stood beside the attendant, but the darkness of the hallway masked his features. “Don’t tell ‘er.” He grumbled before taking off. The attendant watched him go, so you scrambled up onto your feet, running for the door but it was blocked by the attendant. And he had a gun. You stared at the weapon with wide eyes backing into the room till your back hit the wall. “take a seat.” He gestured to the sofa that sat in the corner of the room, facing an old style TV. You edged to the sofa, sitting rigidly as the man sighs, collapsing into a small single seater that was on the other side of the room, the gun on his lap. “Look, I aint normally involved in this. I know you got a lot of questions, and I cant answer them all. But what I can tell you is if you leave his house, you’ll be killed.” The attendant paused, allowing the words to sink in. “You stay here, I’ll keep yah safe. I promise. But you cant leave. Alright?” You paused before nodding which satisfied him. “I got a spare room you can use upstairs. It’s got its own bathroom attached and all. Come on.” He stood up, the gun still in his hand as he walked to the door. You didn’t move immediately so he looked back at you. “Come on.” You jumped from your seat, following him in silence. He let out another sigh. “I aint gonna make this hard on you. No offense, but I don’t want you to be here anymore than you do. Wish there was another way.” He spoke more to himself as he climbed the stairs and showed you to a room. True to form, there was a bathroom attached, with a small double bed in the main room, a desk and some old books. The room itself didn’t look like it had been touched in years. “You gotta promise you wont run. If he find out you’re here, there will be hell to pay.” The man tries to get an answer from you as you step into the room to look around. “Him?” You ask, your voice shaking. “Yeah. Bloody devil. He wont think twice about killing yah, trust me. You’re safe in these walls. Now, you got any family who’ll come looking for yah?” He asked, and seemed to immediately regret the question as tears welled in your eyes. “No.” You shake your head as tears run down your cheeks. “Right, good. No, not good. Didn’t mean that.” He huffed, rubbing the back of his neck. Just as he was about to leave, he paused. “Sorry, love. I really am.” He came up, placing a hand on your back. “You need anything, ask me, alright? The names Fred.” You nodded, and he left without another word. The situation finally broke you as you collapsed on the bed, crying.

----

You heard your window crack open and someone climb through. You had been at the house for 3 weeks now, and you didn’t leave the room. As if to show you why you should stay, the first night you heard screaming coming from outside somewhere. When you scrambled to the window, you saw someone running in the distance. They were being chased and were caught. You couldn’t see exactly what happened, but they stopped screaming, and whoever was chasing them had to drag them back, limp. So you stayed in the room. You sat up in your bed, turning on your light to find the familiar stranger was back. He never hurt you, never even came near you. He just sat in the corner, trying to talk to you but you gave him the bare minimum. The older man who kept you wasn’t the one who ordered your imprisonment. It was this one. He never told you his name. Never told you what happened when he disappeared or who was around or what was going on. He just tried to get you to talk. At first, you didn’t scream because you didn’t see what good it would do. Fred, the attendant, obviously knew him. But you had kept a pen handy in case you needed to defend yourself. “Found this.” He suddenly said, seeming more perky tonight as he stood in the middle of your bedroom and holding something out. Hesitantly, you stepped closer, looking into his outstretched hand to see a necklace. “Found it?” You glared at him, knowing fine well that he hadn’t found it. A man and woman had passed through here 2 days ago. You saw the smile faulter, then drop away as he turns away, throwing it on the desk before going to sit in the corner as always. You walked up to the necklace, taking it in your hand. You saw him perk up, smiling slightly, until you took the necklace and dropped it out the open window. “Why’d yah do that?” he scrambles across the room, so quickly you thought he’d drive out the window but you went back to the bed to sit on the floor by it. “I don’t want anything from you.” You snap. He glares at you, pointedly before going back to his spot as the two of you glare at each other until its nearly sunrise, and he disappears again. But the problem started to come when you realized that you actually looked forward to his visits. He seemed so genuinely interested in you and your life, and between his and Freds company, you preferred his. But you didn’t even know your name. You wondered if that was what he meant when telling Fred not to say anything. Or about what happened deeper in the hills. You had asked his name a few times, to which he shrugged it off, saying it doesn’t matter. You knew there were others, his brothers and sisters as well as a father and mother. Fred had said that the sister was harmless, and so were the brothers if they were controlled right. But the mother and father were the worse. They were the ones who would kill you on sight. Ruby had been the only one to find out about you. She had been trying to bargain with Fred to get her out of here when she stumbled upon you in the kitchen (the only other place in the house you could go). From then on, she came to see you, much to her brothers annoyance. Tonight, you had heard them arguing outside your window. “if Pa notices we’re both sneaking out, he’ll come.” The man hissed, grabbing the girls arm and pushing her back to the direction the normally come from. “Fine, fine.” She hissed, stumbling back towards the hills then pausing and running back. “Can you give her this.” From the light of the moon, you saw a small handmade bracelet from thread. You felt a little bad for her, and she just wanted some company. But the man felt uneasy with her around you. Maybe he thought she’d slip up and tell you something he didn’t want you to know. Before you could step back to let him climb up the side of the house, there was a new voice. “Mars!” An angry voice screamed out, breaking the two siblings apart with a jump. You ducked completely out of range of the window. That voice didn’t sound like the type you wanted to get on the wrong side of. There was only one person it could belong to. mars? You kneeled up, glancing out the window as you saw a man with a horrific scar running down his face storming up to the house. You were grateful that you had kept the bedroom light off so you were hidden. “Why you both sneaking around? Huh?” The man demanded and you could see the switch in the two siblings. They wouldn’t look him in the eyes, shrinking into himself. “We were just-“ Mars was about to try lie, when the back door flew open and light poured out of it. “I asked them here. Needed help, and why shouldn’t I ask that of my own flesh and blood, Jupiter?” Fred called out into the yard, but didn’t leave his house. the man, Jupiter, snarled a little. “Fine, keep the boy. But shes coming back. Mama wants a word.” Jupiter sneered at Ruby who huffed. Jupiter grabbed her wrist and started to pull her back to the hills. She didn’t struggle, instead following like a child in trouble. You don’t know what happened next as you slid down the wall, the information sinking in. Footsteps approached your door, which opened and Mars stepped in. He didn’t turn on the light straight away, instead walking to the window and closing the curtains. When the lights on, you push yourself up off the wall. “Whats your name?” You breath, your eyes filling with tears as you pray it isn’t true. Anything but that. He didn’t answer, his sharp teeth stayed wired shut as if he couldn’t. But you had heard it clear as day. Storming up to him, you grab his right arm and pull it out. You ripped the sleeve of the top to reveal your name in black ink on his wrist. He stood there, limp and almost numb as you dropped his arm. Shaking your head, you back away from him, breaking down into tears. “That’s why you kept me here. Because im you…” You couldn’t finish the sentence, it hurt too much. The realization that you had been spared death because your name as etched onto Mars’ wrist made you sick to your stomach. It explained everything. He would come to see you to try get you use to him first because he knew you would reject him. You all to your knees on the floor, sobbing into your palms as the full weight of the situation suffocated you. Mars stood there for a moment, apparently unsure with what to do before cautiously approaching you and kneeling by your side. “I could be a good mate.” He whispered to you. “I’ll keep you real safe. Make sure you don’t get hurt, and bring you things to eat.” You heard the desperation in his voice as he tried to list off reasons for you to be with him. In truth, you could see yourself with him. But not here. Not with that man so close. “I want to go home.” You look up at him with eyes filled with tears. Mars opened his mouth to speak, and you could see the anger filling his eyes. He stood, shaking slightly as your words broke him. “But I want you to come with me.” You stood up, cautiously approaching him from behind as he froze. “Bring your sister, and brothers if they’d want to come.” Mars lingers for a moment, hesitantly glancing over his shoulder at you as if in disbelief. When he sees no deception in your eyes, he turns fully to you. The way he was with that man showed you way more than anything he had ever said. He wasn’t happy here, he was living in fear. He kept you, hid you in a desperate attempt not to lose his soul mate. You don’t know what drove you to step closer to him. He looked so confused and lost at your offer. You reached forward and touched his chest, running your fingers up his shoulder to the back of his neck and into his curls. He shivered at the contact, his eyes falling shut. You took the moment to go up on your tiptoes and press a soft kiss to his lips. You lingered there for a moment, giving him a chance to kiss you back. Once he gets over the initial shock, you feel arms wrap around your waist and you’re pulled closer as Mars kisses you. While inexperienced and a little clumsy, you felt your heart race at the kiss. “Run away with me.” You whisper to him as you pull back. Mars opened his eyes, his gaze finding your own. He stared at you for a solid few moments, and you couldn’t figure out what he was thinking. “I wont survive on the outside.” He suddenly mumbled, his body slouching as his hands dropped from your waist as he backed away from you. Your hands fell to your side, the devastation obvious in your face. he turns away from you, seemingly unable to keep your gaze as he struggled to find words. “You’ll take Ruby?” Mars suddenly asks, glancing over his shoulder at you. “When you go, take her?” Any vocal ability you had was lost as you realized what he was saying. He wouldn’t come with you, but he wasn’t stopping you any more. And he was willing to send Ruby with you. You could only nod. Your offer still stood to take her with you. You knew she desperately wanted out, and if you had the chance, you would help her as much as you could. “I’ll get her up here tomorrow morning, just after sunrise. Be ready to leave.” He speaks with an air of authority that you had never heard before from him as he heads to the window, disappearing into the night.

-------------time skip ----------------

You stood by the side of the house in the shadows as the sun rose in the distance. You debated if you should have waited in your room, but you hadn’t slept much and you were going stir crazy. “Mars? Why did we sneak out? Papa will be angry.” Rubys hushed voice filled the calm air as you glanced around the corner and saw her trailing behind Mars, a bag thrown over her shoulder. “Shut up. You’re gonna get us caught.” He huffed at her, glancing behind them. The mention of ‘Papa’ made a shiver run through your veins. You hated the man, and you dreaded to think what would happen when you were gone. you were sure Fred knew. He had left out a few items in a bag, some drinks and snack-ish things. They were now in your bag. you noticed his fist was closed around something which he was holding tightly. Rubys eyes fell on you, instantly smiling in greeting as they walked up to you. “Here.” He held out a key in his hand and you took it, unsure what it unlocked. “Its to that car.” He pointed behind you to the family carrier on the court of the gas station. You tapped the ‘unlock’ button and the hazards flashed a couple of times before stopping. “Now get going. Papa will wake up soon. Aint any point hanging around.” Mars gave Rubys shoulder a little shove, making her stumble a little. She was in a daze, the realization spreading across her face as she beamed at the car. Her one wish was coming true. Ruby grabbed the bag off your shoulder, wanting to help as much as possible. She ran to the car, throwing her own bag and yours in the back and clambering into the front passenger seat as she admired the inside. You turned your attention back to mars. “You still wont come?” You asked, hoping against hope he might change his mind. “No. I belong here. Will always be here.” He looked over his shoulder to the hills, that look stunning in the growing morning lightly. He seemed to jump and remember something, digging into his pocket. “Here.” You held out your hand and two small bracelets fell into it. One was the threat bracelet Ruby had given to Mars to give to you. The second was the bracelet he had tried to give you a while ago. “You kept it?” You asked, looking at the metal one. Mars shrugged, seemingly not wanting to answer as he looked away. “Mars?” You spoke his name, drawing his attention back to you. “I… im going to miss you.” Perhaps it was the warped ideology you had been fed all your life that the name on your wrist was so important, or some Stockholm syndrome, but you didn’t wan to leave without him. You see a smile tug at his lips, but his eyes were filled with a deep desperateness that was unignorable as he looks at you. “Don’t. I aint worth it.” He smirked, the joke playing way too close for comfort. “Now, get.” he nods to the car, taking a step back and you were at a loss. Turning, you walk to the car, twiddling the key and bracelets in your palm, tears welling in your eyes. Something inside you broke as you twisted back around and ran to Mars. Throwing your arms around his neck, you kissed him. This wasn’t soft or sweet, it was needy and desperate as a growl left Mars’ throat. He grabbed your waist, his fingers digging into your side in a painful way as he keep you as close as he could while kissing you back. After a moment, you pull back, panting and with rosy cheek. “Go.” Mars growls, panting a little from the kiss. He pushed you and you stumbled back, nodding as you turned and ran for the car. Climbing into the drivers side, you took a deep breath before starting the car and flooring it. The bracelets were put in the centre console the second you got in. Looking out the rear view mirror, you saw Mars watching after the car before disappearing in the hills. Ruby asked some questions, but you didn’t answer them. You honestly didn’t know the answer, or what lay ahead for you both in the future. After about 50 miles, you reached a small town. Pulling into a small layby near a café which wasn’t open yet, you put your head on the steering wheel and started to sob. Ruby cuddled into you, her arms wrapping around your shaking shoulders as you finally allowed yourself to feel the impact of your farewell. after a few minutes, you felt a weight on your wrist. Looking up, you saw Ruby tying her own bracelet around your wrist before putting the other one on. You hiccupped slightly as you leaned back in the seat, looking at the two items. “Maybe, once we’re settled, we could… go back for him?” Ruby suggested with a shrug. “You think he’ll come?” You ask, extremely doubtful. “I think he’ll last a day without you, then wish he’d came.” She looked at you. “I asked him to come with us. Twice.” You confess, not wanting her to think you had just left him there. “Mars is stubborn. I think he didn’t think you’d want to be his soul mate. But if you went back, it would prove it to him, and he’d come.” She shrugged, looking out the window. “But we could probably overpower him if hes stubborn.” You laughed, wholeheartedly. You could almost see Mars struggling as the two of you threw him in the boot. Ruby joined in with your laughter, seeming a lot happier that you weren’t crying. “Okay, it’s a deal. Once we’re settled somewhere close by, we’ll come back.” You nod. Ruby twists in her seat, sticking out her pinkie finger and offering it to you. Linking your own with hers, she seemed satisfied with the promise as the two of you glanced back down the road you had came from. “I’ll return.” You nod, a silent promise to Mars.

#the hills have eyes #Mars #mars x reader

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my-brothers-corrupted · 4 years ago

Text

My Brothers, Corrupted

Chapter Three : Section Eight : Places to Find Home

Chapter One l Chapter Two l Chapter Three

Trigger warning for discussions of abuse.

While Henrik struggles to cope with the knowledge he’s gained about defeating Anti and revisits a familiar site, Red and Dapper push and pull against the idea of trusting Max, who offers to take them to the store for some of the necessities they’ve been missing for days. Dapper finds fault with his master’s taste in clothes. Ro can’t keep his thoughts fixed on the merchandise.

Places to Find Home

A day later and Henrik has not left his room. Whether sulking or numb or simply too distressed to draw himself out of his fear, you’ve watched him turn down three meals, sit up through a whole night, and have one dead-faced shut-down without requesting help from anybody.

He’s still got that book on his lap, running his fingers over the picture of the white-eyed girl. He’s read every book in here now and there will be no need for him to revisit the pages. He will remember every word as if it were before him.

Someone’s knocking on his door but he doesn’t sit up, gazing glazedly down at the picture. He really misses… anybody. Dapper to squirm under his arm, begging attention just to distract him, or Blue to come into his room to bring him his cooking and kiss him, or maybe even Red, if he were in a kind mood, to talk at him and stand defensive over his body until he felt well enough to stand. Most of all he wants Trick. Warm blankets and his hushed reassurances from the other side of a mattress. Hands that know all the places he likes to be held. The trust in the air between them. Stillness.

“Henrik,” grouses Nina at the door. “Come on, medico, come out for a while, let’s get you some sun and some food.”

He finds it difficult to move.

immabethehero asked: Hey Henrik? So there is one such solution to the Marvin problem, I just don't know if it would work in this world.

“Yeah,” mumbles Henrik, chewing on his nails, looking exhausted. “I… can Anti even die? Can he bleed back what he took from Blue? And how… how could I ever bring myself to kill him?”

He rubs his face, digging his glasses into his nose. “Maybe someone else would know more about blood pacts than me and I could ask. But fuck, fuck! Anti really… Anti really…”

He’s going to cry again.

“He really did this, didn’t he? Made Blue sick just so he could control him better? Made him permanently sick, almost killed him! Fucker!”

The book collides with the other side of the room.

“Magic fucking sucks!” he shouts. “Anti was cruel, he was monstrous! He did this to Blue just because he was magic and Anti wanted it! And I let him, I let him! I wish none of my family was magic at all! Now I can’t get Blue’s magic back and Anti is being torn apart.”

“Henrik,” comes a sigh from the door. Genesis this time. “Come on, man, come out, we’re worried about you.”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Hey Hen? Maybe you should leave your room a little. The change of scenery might do you some good. Even just give you a bit of a breather.

“Ugh,” groans Henrik, letting out a deep sigh. Alright, he knows you’re probably right.

“You can come in,” he croaks, getting to his feet. Oh, shaky. But he can do it.

Genesis pushes open the door, Nina behind her, and they both give Henrik twin looks of exasperation. He is reminded, for a moment, of Red and Blue, and he almost laughs despite his distress.

“That’s a great idea,” says Nina, nodding at the camera. “Get out a little.”

“Sure, walk around the garden one more time,” sighs Henrik. “Just as helpless as I always am.”

“You are being a sourpuss,” says Genesis, because she heard him use the word the other day and she loves it.

“Why don’t we get out even farther than that?” suggests Nina, crossing her arms over her chest.

Henrik and Genesis both exchange glances and turn to look at her in surprise.

“What - really?” asks Henrik, a little breathless.

“Yeah,” says Nina, with certainty. “As long as we convince Emmanuela it’s alright for you to go, and you promise you won’t try to do anything stupid. There’s something I want to show you.”

“What?”

“Guess you’ll have to wait and see,” she smirks at him. “What do you say, get outside a little? Short trip? Or did you want to talk to somebody around here?”

spicydanhowell asked: let's get some air, henrik. you heard the ladies. time to eat and stretch your legs. we'll worry about this again later, promise.

Henrik nods at you and Genesis beams, taking his hand. He flinches a little, but he’s getting used to her, and he doesn’t mind her hands. In a bizarre way that makes him feel guilty, the neat little scars still healing on her skin remind him of Dapper. He’d been just as distressed as she had after that short, horrible session of torture, but he doesn’t know how to turn something like that into a useful apology. She seems to have forgiven him anyway - though she will, if he’s brought up, still refer to him as “dapper little motherfucker” in her thick accent.

“We got to go through the mirror to get out of this place,” she tells him eagerly.

“Go through the mirror?”

“Hold up,” laughs Nina. “I gotta get us some food packed and then talk with Emmanuela. Henrik, you aren’t going to try and run away or anything once we get up there, right?”

Ah. Well. His brain knows it’s stupid but… goddamn, there’s a temptation there.

“No,” he tells her meekly. “That would be… bad.”

She sighs a little, but she won’t argue. “Maybe you guys are going to have to help me convince her,” she warns you, taking you when Henrik offers you up.

“We’ll get settled in the car,” promises Genesis. “See you in a second.”

“Okay.” Nina carries you off to Emmanuela’s room.

“Come in,” answers a voice at her knock.

Emmanuela’s room is small and modest and bathed in so much light it’s almost hard to see for a minute.

Stained glass makes the room glow in red, blue, purple, gold. Emmanuela herself seems to have some light in her and her long black hair gleams more than ever, straight and heavy down her back. She is standing. From this angle, she is a great bulk of a woman, heavy and tall, and on the wall behind her, you see the axe-like weapon she once brought down on the skull of a frothing black dog burning with stolen magic.

“Hola,” she says, glancing at you. “What is it, Nina? How is our guest?”

Nina laughs wearily. “He seems unwell.”

“Oh?”

“They could probably explain it better than I. I’m not sure what’s upset him so badly.”

Emmanuela sits down at her desk, steepling her fingers on the table in front of her.

“Good,” she says. “I’ve been meaning to talk with them.”

cest-mellow asked: emmanuela! nice to meet you! we were thinking of having henrik go with nina and genesis for a walk farther out, hes really stressed out about his brothers stolen magic. he’s really sick.

Emmanuela softens for a second, grinning at you. “Hi,” she says. “Okay, he can go. Why not? He’ll stay with her, won’t he?”

“I’ll watch him,” promises Nina.

“Watch him carefully, the both of you,” Emmanuela warns. “We don’t always do what we expect ourselves to do.”

Nina gives you a look at her cryptic phrasing, but says nothing.

“I am concerned, however,” says Emmanuela. “That he continues to struggle with the reality of what the monster is and has done to him and his family. I fear the manipulation is very deeply set and I would like to see just where it starts and how far it goes. And so you must do something for me. Will you convince the doctor to come see me and let me take a look into his head? It will be frightening to him, but I am worried.”

She drums her fingers against the desk. Abuse is not a foreign concept to her, and neither is recovery from it. But Anti’s hypnosis and memory glaze introduce new elements for her.

“The way I see it, the next step must be to get the rest of his family away from the monster and destroy it, but I fear it will not be so simple, and we may not be able to help as much as we want. I need to speak with Henrik. I fear the thing that haunts him is not, at our hands, mortal, and if we cannot kill it… we must make preparations for if it comes to take him again. How will he defend himself if it wants to hurt him again? How will he get help in another country if he’s stolen? The monster - I will not lie - is very powerful. Will you tell Henrik, then, to come see me soon? And is there anything I can do to help you?”

Anonymous asked: sra. emmanuela, ma'am, with all due respect, we care a lot about henrik's well-being, too. and we don't know you quite so well. you seem very powerful, and very charismatic, and those can be very dangerous qualities in a stranger in command. can you promise us that you mean henrik no harm, and you will do your best to help him and not hurt him, however he responds to your request? are you willing in any other way to assure us of your intentions?

“This is a wise request,” says Emmanuela. “And it’s good to be cautious, or you will not be capable of protecting him in the future. First of all I shall tell you that here, I am in charge, and so that Henrik has stayed with us and been cared for at all has been at my command. And we are happy to do it. We don’t turn people away here, do we, Nina?”

“No, Emmanuela.”

“Even if they’re not magic?”

Nina laughs. “Don’t tease me!”

“I am powerful, you are correct, I try to own it, I must match the arrogance of men if I am to lead,” she says. “I am a dichotomous magician - rare, you see, a lot to deal with, for a magician to have two different powers. I burn darkness with light and possess a form of telepathy. I cannot prove it, but I assure you I no longer use it without permission, not even to my enemies. I learned from experience - when I was young, I made many mistakes, and I hurt a great many people.”

Nina looks surprised to hear her speak this way, but she does not interrupt.

“I am not a tyrant now,” finishes Emmanuela. “And I have no desire to hurt anyone at all. I have caused enough harm to good people in my lifetime. Anyway, Henrik is getting along well here, making friends. He seems like a nice boy.”

Nina bursts into giggles. “He’s like thirty, Mama.”

“I will call anybody ‘boy’ if I want to, I’m the boss…”

Nina is laughing and you shake in her hands.

cest-mellow asked: thank you! we’ll definitely try our best to get him to agree. i think the best help you can offer is just try to make henrik feel safer here, the monster does plan to come here at some point to get him back. maybe you should tell us a few things about yourself so it’s easier for him to trust you into his head, we can tell him things he can relate to and latch onto for comfort!

“Mmh, clever, I enjoy it,” says Emmanuela. “What do I say, Nina?”

“I don’t know, Mama,” says Nina, smiling at the game.

“I’m getting to be an old woman soon enough. I’ve been the head of this organization since I was a girl. Sixteen, in fact. And since then there are always people needing help. Those who live here have mostly come to me in need of it.”

Nina shuffles on her feet. It is true for her. She needed somewhere to go and Emmanuela had been there, with JP, Hermann, Genesis, Christofer, and Jose.

“Power is awakened, not inborn. So it is that many magicians arise from homes where there is trouble enough to create the need for magic within him. So more than one of the people here, you will find, have had cruel or neglectful parents, or no parents at all, or some other horrible trouble, more than what a child should bear. Legally, I’ve adopted many of the younger magicians in this country. Silly as it sounds, someone has to be on the legal documents, and someone should be checking in on them like a parent! Everyone deserves to have a place they can call home. Most go on to live on their own, though they stay loyal to the order. Others stay here with me. Yes? Hermann, Genesis, and my little ones, Rosie and Basilio and Benigno. Basilio is my biological child. He’s ten now. No power has awakened inside him and I am glad. He has never had a need for it to awaken. I have kept him safe and happy. What else matters?”

Anonymous asked: the core of the demon's manipulation comes from brotherly love, we think. all five of the brothers love each other fiercely, and the demon turns that towards himself, first by coaxing surrender by holding them over each other's heads, and then by installing himself as a brother. which, in a way, he sort of is? he does have kind of an innate connection to them, though explaining just how would necessitate... a lot of time. but henrik does believe, whole-heartedly, that the demon is his family.

Emmanuela pauses, pressing her knuckles against her face, turning away from you. She looks up again after a moment, cool and severe.

“This is the sort of thing I have a fear of,” she says, her long, perfect nails picking at her desk. “It means the monster was not just forceful but intelligent.”

She takes a deep breath. “Nina, perhaps you’d give us a moment?”

Nina glances at you, but she trusts Emmanuela, and she obeys.

“Hypnosis, you must understand, is often very surface-level. You place a truth within the mind and force the mind to accept it. There, it’s done. But if the mind is reminded of old truths or pauses to consider the foreign thought, it can be very easy to realize the flaw and pop it back out again. Like that! Simple for both parties. But this is not what your monster has done.

“He has buried himself in deep truths. Do you understand? He took a falsity and he coated it in the truth of the rest of their family. What’s more, he erased the memories that came before so there was nothing left to contradict the new thoughts, and then he built an entire family system to support his lie. And so I am guessing you have seen, many times, your friends pause and realize that something is wrong - but they cannot find what. Because there is no past to tell them what is true and what is false, and, moreover, their love for each other has become entrenched in their love for the monster. If the monster is false, the rest of the brotherhood seems false too, and they know the rest of the brotherhood is not false. The rest of the brotherhood is true. Your brothers all love each other and the demon has hidden himself within that truth. Worse… even without magic or hypnosis, his manipulation is extensive. Even if I could pierce the hypnosis, he would still wield power.”

She sits back in her desk. Drumming her nails. Her eyes are dark and endless, but not like Anti’s. There is no way to describe this difference. Maybe there is not such a difference after all. To be a monster is a choice too, and Emmanuela had the option to choose it many, many times in her life.

But here she is.

“Soon the monster will be here,” she says. “And I fear your doctor will insist on returning to what he knows is truth, even if he can tell, now, that there is a falsity hiding inside.”

She turns to her stain glass and her face becomes red in the light of it.

“I will make preparations,” she says heavily. “To protect him if he chooses to return. And I must discover what this monster is. I’ve never seen anything like it. I must find a way for them to kill it.”

She looks up at you. “Tell him to come see me. And watch over him when they leave this place. Freedom can miss the chains that bound it.”

She calls for Nina to come back in. If you’re ready, you can go, or speak longer with her.

cest-mellow asked: i think that’s all we’ll need, unless you have something else that could help convince henrik. the info you gave was great!! it’s nice to meet you finally :D

“Don’t get too sweet on me,” warns Emmanuela. “Or I will adopt you too.”

Nina is still tittering as she carries you back down the hall towards the others. She ends up picking up a couple quick lunches from Juana in the kitchen before she makes her way out towards the car.

Genesis was right - you have to go through a mirror to leave or enter the convent building. Between time travel, heists, and all sorts of magic, this is still one of the weirdest things you’ve experienced.

The mirror is nailed to the front doors of the convent on either side. Nina steps up to them without pausing and whispers a password she doesn’t let you make out - and then everything shifts, like your vision was flipped, and you’re somewhere else.

In the middle of the city, actually, standing outside a decrepit old convent, worn down from years of misuse. Henrik is in front of you, still staring around himself as if trying to get his bearings. Glowing office buildings miles into the sky and rows and rows of apartments with open patio doors surround him. Traffic races by just outside the gate of the ancient convent. Genesis is playing with the radio in the car.

“A little disorienting?” Nina calls to Henrik.

He turns and smiles nervously. “Ah - no, no, not at all. I’m very used to magic, you see.”

Nina chuckles and directs him towards the car with her hand.

“I heard you talking about how magic fucks a lot of shit up in your life,” she says, as Henrik settles into the passenger seat of an old Cadillac. “Can you guess where we’re going?”

“No idea, I’m quite sure,” he says. “But I expect to be impressed!”

She laughs. “I hope you will be. JP thinks I’m too pregnant to be making this hike but I told him to take a hike of his own.”

“Ah, fuck’s sake, you’re going to make my tired old bones walk, aren’t you?”

“Maaaybe.”

“Oh, dear…”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Where to, Nina???

“You’ve been here before, many times!” she says. “Genesis has too, but just once. Come on, can you see it in the distance?”

Henrik glances around. Towering churches, KFCs on every corner, swarmed street vendors, marketplaces, statues, gorgeous yellow government buildings, memorials, clock towers, fountains, theaters, museums, and - oh, above it all, surrounding it all, on every side, crying out from above the city - the heights of the proud Peruvian mountains, covered in the colorful dredge of the slums, where water must be fetched from the delivery truck each morning, where stairs are a rarity and the hot stone cuts your shoes apart, where there are too few doctors and so many, many people.

His heart stutters in his chest.

“Oh,” he says frailly. “Home.”

cest-mellow asked: you feeling okay, henrik?

“Uhh,” he says, clutching you to his chest.

He needs a second to think about that. Is he? Does he want to do this? To stand in the places where his family used to stand, and know that they aren’t here anymore? To know that after all this, came the pain?

“Hey,” says Nina, putting her hand above his wrist, not quite touching him. “Things have changed. I’d really like for you to see it, if you’re willing.”

He looks ahead of him. They are climbing closer to the mountain now. He can smell the bitter smell of chickens and bodies and dry mountain dust and he wonders just when it is that even this smell began to feel homey to him.

He had… liked living in the mountains. It takes him a minute to realize it. Usually it is better not to form an opinion when you know how quickly you must leave again, but he had liked it. Up the stones. With the people. Henrik had liked Peru. Had liked people coming to see him for medicine and help. Had liked to be a doctor again.

“Why’d you bring me?” whines Genesis.

“Hey, you were the fool who came poking around here without permission!” chides Nina. “Come on, you okay?”

“Okay, I do want to see, actually. I’m going to smash all his cameras!”

“There, that sounds productive. Henrik, you okay? You good to go up?”

Is he? Is he?

“Yeah,” he finds his voice, staring up the side of it.

He wants to see. He does. He wants to see his little home again.

“Yeah, let’s go.”

Two hands pat at his shoulder and arms, both of the girls leaning in to encourage him, and he snorts, taken aback by the support they always give him, by the goodness of them all, by all the effort these people have given him.

Much of his life has been pain, and many people have hurt him. But Peru - oh, Peru has been kind to him.

“Oh,” he adds, turning his head as they pass by the little shop at the head of the last of the road. “There is even grass and flowers this time of year. I did not think anything could grow here.”

Genesis and Nina exchange smiles in the rearview mirror.

“Maybe there’s more if we keep going up,” suggests Nina.

“Okay,” he whispers.

He knows the places where the rocks slip and the places where the earth is sturdy. He clutches a rock in his hand to ward off the dogs that live near the basketball court. The chickens clucking to him are Tomas’s; the baby he hears crying must be the one he and Trick delivered the day before Blue’s fire started. It feels like a hundred years ago now, and all of it is so familiar, and so very strange. Yes, all in all stepping up the mountain feels like he imagines it must be for Dapper when he rewinds.

Except one thing.

“What happened?” he breathes, moving pace by pace, his eyes full from the shock of it. “How is this possible? This side of the mountain has always been barren.”

No longer.

Desert trees and cacti leap from the earth in green and brown bloom, dotted with pink and red flowers. Grass has poured out over the dusty sand along the paths, helping to hold it steady. Fruit bushes have pushed their way up from the ground to offer chirimoya and granadilla. The chickens feast on dropped seeds. Children race barefoot across the grass and past the sagebrush. Flowers coat the bitter smell of the slums in fragrance and hummingbirds have found their way so high up to suck on fervent orange and pink and yellow blossoms.

“Es el medico!” someone calls, a child in an open doorway, and his siblings race out to look with him. Women come out from behind the curtains of their homes to get a look at him, and when they do, their faces grow with smiles and they call out to him, medico! The men give him the same begrudging nods as always and offer him Spanish greetings he has learned to understand without understanding. Genesis is laughing at the attention and waving while Nina is calm and smiling beside him, keeping a steady hand on his waist when he grows tired. It’s been a long time since he was able to exercise regularly and this walk was always grueling for him. One day, he hopes to have his strength back.

And the clinic at the top of the hill?

Most all of it is swallowed up by plants, but the medicine inside has been left to the people. No one has looted it, though some is gone. Everyone is taking what they need. Even with his family gone, the clinic will still be a place of healing, and the whole mountain is green, and he doesn’t know why it makes him cry.

His and Trick’s room is covered in grass and flowers peeking up through the floorboards. He sits down where he would always sit by the window, and he runs his hands across the plant life, and he sees, and he remembers, and everything, he thinks, is beautiful, and not so lonely after all.

“I wanted you to see this,” says Nina. “How beautiful your brother’s magic is.”

Blue’s flowers. Blue’s plants. Blue’s power. Henrik stands in the doorway of his room, red-eyed and weepy, and regrets that he ever let it be stolen away.

“The other side of the mountain that used to be fertile,” she says. “His fire burned it all away. No the rich man’s land is dead and these people have some life. So you see, then, medico, that magic’s just a tool, and it can be used in good ways or in bad ways, and that’s nobody’s fault but the person manipulating it. Okay?”

“Okay,” he says. “Okay.”

“Your brother,” she says. “The monster. He stripped this beauty away from your Blue. The monster is not your family, Henrik. The monster is just a monster. And he will hurt you again if you let him.”

He’s left alone for a long time to sit with the memory of it.

He’s left alone for a long time to sit with the truth of it.

He’s glad he came up here.

“Hey,” says a voice after a while.

“Hey,” he answers Genesis.

She sits down beside him, her shoulder against his own. He doesn’t mind.

“Is it hard for you?” he asks. “To be here?”

“Mh,” she says, glancing around. “No. I like to see that it ended up all being for something good, at least around here. Weird how that can happen. I mean, it doesn’t always. In my life, most of the bullshit just turned out to be bullshit. But sometimes it can be fertilizer. And I think the times when it is are important to hold onto. These people are happier and healthier because you and your family were here.”

He sniffles and laughs and brushes at his eyes, letting out a deep sigh.

“Hey, can I say something?” asks Genesis, pushing against his shoulder. “Something kind of sappy?”

“No, I’m already all teared up.”

“Not my fault you are a big, German baby.”

He snorts and shoves her away from him and she laughs at him, settling down on his shoulder, and he thinks it’s okay, really, when she hugs him. She’s smaller than him and she seems to fit, somehow, against him.

“I’m sorry magic has been used to hurt you,” she says. “And that even the brothers you have who are loving have been used and hurt and controlled because of it. But it can be beautiful too. And important. And I hope someday you get to appreciate all that. Not just magic shit. But just the way that sometimes, the things bad people use to hurt us, well, they’re good things to good people. I hope someday you get to be somewhere where everything is beautiful, and nobody tries to hurt you.”

She’s warm like Trick.

“You’ve been very kind to me,” says Henrik. “Even after what we did to you. Thank you.”

“Henrik, you’re my brother and I’m your sister for as long as you need me, okay? If you need a family while you figure yours out. If you’re waiting for a new home. You can stay here with us. You can be our family too.”

There are crocuses growing up through the floorboards.

“Okay,” says Henrik, putting his head down on hers. “Okay.”

Crocuses and peace lilies and roses and more. It’s beautiful now. It’s beautiful.

This was Blue’s magic.

Anti took it away.

Henrik will not forgive him for it.

Henrik will not forgive him.

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

Red wakes up with Dapper against his chest and is stunned by how good it feels. How scary it isn’t. He almost laughs, hugging Dapper’s hot fond weight to his ribs.

“Hey,” he whispers, to wake him, and Dapper shuffles sleepily, pressing his matted hair against his chest. “Come on, wake up. Do you want to go out and about a little bit today?”

Dapper leaps up so fast Red gets elbowed in the chest and lets out a shout.

“Out, out, out!” Dapper all but flaps, zooming out of bed and tearing the covers off Ro’s warm body. His big brother groans.

“Dapper! You tiny fucker, come on!”

“Get out of the room? Get out of my room? I can go? I can get out of my room?”

He’s zipping around the room, trying to adjust his hair and his clothes and his shoes all at the same time. Red groans and then laughs, burying his face in his pillows and trying to ignore the buzz of nervous excitement in his own stomach.

“Five more minutes… oh, I gotta make sure I remember everything we need… and Max wants to talk more about everything…”

spicydanhowell asked: where's max, red? you sure it's safe to go out when you're.... wanted?

“Max should be on his way. He took my clothes to wash them the other night.”

This looks to be a huge relief to Red, who beams just at the thought of it.

“For the police stuff, I… don’t know. But I don’t think we can just hide out here much longer, especially with Dap the way he is. I think he has a hard time in his room when he’s on medication already, so being psychotic and trapped in a room is like…”

He glances warmly over at Dapper just in time to be tackled back onto the bed by him.

“Hurry up!” demands the little brother straddling his waist. “Slow, slow, slow!”

He grabs a pillow and starts thwacking Ro in the chest with it. Red hollers and grabs him in a headlock, throwing him onto the bed and drawing heaving laughter out of Dapper, struggling playfully in his grasp.

“You two good?” calls a voice from outside their door, vaguely amused.

“Coming, Max!” calls Red, a little color entering his cheeks, but Dapper goes very still in his brother’s arms, clinging to the bedsheets, his smile flickering away.

bupine asked: you alright, dap? you don't need to be afraid of max, you know. he used to be friends with red, he won't hurt you! he'll get you guys food and stuff!

“Yeah, Dap, just be chill, okay,” says Ro softly, brushing his brother’s fringe from his eyes and patting his knee before getting up out of bed. Dapper sits up on the bed, regarding the door coldly, his hands trembling a little.

“Red,” he calls after him. “No one’s supposed to see me. Anti will be angry.”

“Just a second, bud,” says Red, back to him, opening the door.

Max is standing there with his backpack overflowing with clothes, a carton of coffee in his hands, and his tie drawn up to his neck as immaculately as ever. He smiles at Ro.

“Hi,” he says.

“Hi,” says Ro, smiling back.

Dapper scowls at them, grabbing you and pulling you closer, re-reading your message with suspicious eyes.

“He will get me things? Am I supposed to be convincing him to get me things?”

Dapper pauses, thinking, and then relaxes a little. “And then we kill him afterwards? I can do that.”

whydoilovesomanyvillians asked: No dap we dont do that afterwards

“No one lets me have any fun,” scowls Dapper, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Dap, get your shoes on, didn’t you want to go out? We can head out once we get dressed.”

Dapper shakes his head and throws the covers back over his head, burrowing back into the mattress, hiding from the intruder.

Red sighs and comes to sit on the bed beside him.

bupine asked: you don't need to convince him OR kill him. no killing. max likes you guys and he's been trying to help you for a long time. he'll do whatever he can to help you, and you don't have to beg or anything that you normally do with anti. max is a lot nicer than anti is, i swear.

“Hey,” calls Red, getting down beneath the covers with him. “They’re right. Come here, look at me. We don’t - I don’t think we have to follow all the rules right now. You know? I really think we can trust him. And Anti’s not here to punish you for anything, alright?”

Dapper tears at his hair, his teeth clenched together, shaking himself back and forth on the bed.

“Stupid,” spit his hands. “Anti’s always here to punish me.”

Red breathes out a long sigh and scoots a little closer to him, thinking. He reaches out to pull Dapper to his chest, stroking his thumbs over his shoulders, ignoring the growl on his little brother’s face. He’s going to have to play by Dapper’s rules for now.

“Hey, listen,” he whispers. “If we play our cards right, we can get this guy to buy us a bunch of shit we need. Anti doesn’t mind. We’re just playing games. We need him right now so Anti will understand.”

Dapper stares at him, relaxing a little.

“Am I your big brother?”

“Yes,” nods Dapper.

“Am I supposed to let anything bad happen to you?”

Dapper shakes his head.

“Who’s in charge?”

Dapper taps Red’s chest, his mouth twisting a little.

“Okay. So I say we’re going with him, alright? Just for a little while. And you have to play nice so he gets us things.”

Dapper blinks and shrugs. He’s good at playing pretend.

“Hey, come on. You were so excited! We’re going to go outside, right? That’s good. Let’s go, come on.”

It is a little exciting.

Dapper sits up, brushing his hair back into place.

“I got you tea,” says Max, putting a cup from the tray on the dresser. Dapper tries not to glare, looking away.

He’s afraid and he doesn’t want the stranger to touch him. If he does, Anti might punish him. It’s against the rules. And not only that, but he knows what Anti has always told him - if anyone ever finds out about you, they will hurt you, steal you, and take you far away. You need to stay close to Anti and obey.

He pushes his clock down further into his pocket and reaches out to grip Red’s hand, gritting his fierce teeth in his mouth.

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Aw, what's the matter, Dap? It'll be a whole lot of fun to get out for a bit! Think of the sunshine, and the pretty sights you'll get to see!

Right, right. Dapper nods quickly, trying to convince himself again. Red says it’s okay so it’s okay. And he does want to go outside. The walls feel thick and glaring around him, like they could lean forward to squeeze his ribs into his lungs at any moment. His paranoia is very high. He hates feeling like a coward. Like the whole world is conspiring to hurt him. Red holds the cup of tea out to Dapper and he takes it, clutching the warmth between his fingers, but he can’t quite bring himself to drink. He’ll need a few minutes to adjust. Was Max here yesterday? He thinks he was, and nothing bad happened.

Red and the stranger are chattering eagerly to each other, their bodies angled towards each other, a smile on both their mouths, and for some reason, it only makes Dapper more nervous. He remembers… something faint and distant. A nice girl with dark eyes, smiling at him. A nice girl with blond hair, talking to him through a window. It never ends well.

But he’s trying to have a nice day, so he lets Red help him through the motions of getting changed into freshly cleaned clothes. The warm smell of laundry and detergent calms him down a little. He takes a sip of his tea.

Ro leads him outside.

Dapper’s joy seems to come rushing back to him. He’s all but vibrating in Red’s hand, trembling as he follows Red and Max down the hall. He thinks he might faint if he gets out under the sun. He loves being out of his room. He loves being out of his room. He hates Anti’s rules. He grips Red’s hand and steps slowly after him, clutching his tea.

Anonymous asked: This is so exciting!! Where will you go first?

“It is exciting!” Max’s face is bright and he can’t stop smiling. He keeps looking back at the two of them behind him. “Where do we want to go, Ro? Clothes, you think? Maybe we just go to the mall and then get some lunch? And anything else you need we’ll find.”

“Oh, I didn’t even know there was a mall.”

“It’s on the other side of the city. This place is a little seedy, honestly.”

“Ha, yeah…” Red glances around at the motel. He’s packed all their stuff into his backpack so nothing gets stolen. “I - I’m sorry,” he hears himself say.

“What? What for?”

Red shakes his head, his cheeks flushed, and winces for a second. “Nothing, let’s just… yeah, I want to get clothes. I want to get everything he needs.”

Dapper looks back at him, eyes wide, but trusting.

“You know,” says Max. “It’s not your fault you ended up in this situation. You did the best you could. And now you don’t have to worry so much anymore. Okay?”

Ro bites his lip, a slight smile coming back to his mouth.

“Thanks, I needed… yeah, thanks. Okay, uh. Haha. Mall?”

“Sounds good,” says Max. “Take a bus?”

“Let’s do it.”

bupine asked: like it or not, anti can't see you guys right now. blue's magic in his body has messed him up and he can't access the cameras. we'll let you know if that gets fixed, but for now, anti can't see you and will never know about anything you do or say.

“Yep,” Max tells Dapper, turning back to smile at him as they head out into the streets. “No Anti, okay, bud?”

Dapper’s gone a little spacey and confused in the sun, smiling at everything around him, clinging more loosely to Red’s hand. Everything feels more safe and free when he’s not trapped in the room, though he’s still shaking with nerves. Red chuckles and pulls him close. “Doing okay?”

“Doing okay, Red. Anti’s not watching?”

“Nope.”

“Odd, odd. Like that day I had my churro. We can talk about anything, huh?”

“That’s right, buddy.”

“We can talk about anything we want to. Odd, odd.”

bupine asked: do you have anything in particular you'd like to say now that anti can't hear you?

“No, no,” says Dapper quickly. “Tell him I’m being good, I’m being very good.”

spicydanhowell asked: hey jamie, you're not with anti, okay? he's not gonna be mad at you for talking to max. max loves you, and he's going to help you whether you try to manipulate him or not. all you have to do is be here. please try to be nice? he and red really care about you, and so do we. we wouldn't tell you to talk to someone dangerous.

Dapper glances down the pavement at Max from behind Red, observing him all over again. Max catches him looking but politely turns his eyes away just as quickly, allowing Dapper to look, pretending he didn’t see.

“Your name?” He and Red are talking. “Oh, shit, you went by so many different names, haha.”

“What? You’re telling me you were friends and you don’t know my name?”

“Ro! Please,” laughs Max, bumping their shoulders together as they walk. “Look, doc was an illegal immigrant, you were a vigilante, your whole family was shady as hell. I didn’t ask a lot of questions, okay? You went by Jackie McLoughlin sometimes, or Jackie Brody, or you said Jackson was your last name, shortened to Jackie, and Bayard was your first.”

“Bayard? No, you take that back. My name is not Bayard.”

“Hahaha! Well, you always went by Jackie, but I’m pretty sure you picked it out!”

“Aw, whatever, Max, now you’re just teasing me…”

Dapper cools a little at the sound of Red’s laughter and chattering, turning his eyes away from Max, taking a second to just bask in the sun. Eventually, he takes a little sip of his tea. It’s good. Fuck, it’s - how long since he had tea? He has a vague memory of a dark wood table and people talking around him. Old things he’s not supposed to remember.

But Anti’s not here to reinforce it.

He can reminisce, if he wants to.

He listens quietly to Red and Max and he thinks.

spicydanhowell asked: you guys think jamie's gonna be able to get medication soon? also jamie, little mans, can you think of anything that might make you more comfortable or help you cope a bit better? i know it's kinda hard to think of what you need sometimes, but this is a good time to try!

“I made a couple calls about that,” says Max. “But, uh. I don’t know, really, how to get him anything without making an appointment with a psychiatrist.”

Dapper shrinks down beside Red, shaking his head. Red puts an arm around him. “No, we can’t do that,” he says quickly. “Not safe.”

“I know it’s not a viable option right now. I don’t know what else to do.”

“If you would help me, I could - ”

“No more stealing stuff,” Max interrupts him quietly. “Please. I can’t watch you get hurt again.”

Ro goes quiet. Eventually he nods.

“Well… I bet Dok could help.”

Max’s smile comes back. “I miss him. It would be good to hear from him again. I need to know that he’s safe.”

“Yeah,” says Ro. “Yeah, me too. I wish we could call him.”

“Well, I have a phone,” says Max.

Red perks up. “Oh, yeah? I… I don’t know, maybe he could get to a payphone or something. He’d know what to do. I think. I guess I usually stole his supplies for him…”

“I want to see Dok,” says Dapper, picking up on the conversation a little belatedly. “I can’t talk to him on the phone!”

“I’ll translate for you,” promises Red.

“When will he come home?”

“I’m not sure, bud. Hopefully we’ll see each other again soon.”

Anonymous asked: Do you know if the mall or the bus will be very crowded, Max? I think maybe Dapper doesn't want anybody who's not a brother touching him right now, is that right Dap?

“No one is allowed to touch me,” agrees Dap nervously. “Against the rules. Bad. I’m not really allowed out of my room at all. But sometimes! Like Norway. We had fish, Red, are you going to get me fish?”

“What? Months stuck in your room and fish is what you want?”

“It’s Friday,” says Dapper devoutly, putting his hands together as though in prayer, and Red can’t tell if he’s being teased or not.

Getting closer to the bus is more crowded. Red glances down at Dapper’s hand in his own. “Are you going to be able to handle this, Dap?”

“If no one is touching me, it’s okay,” says Dap, looking around. “As long as I know who my enemies are I can be fine.”

“Who are your enemies?” asks Max, frowning.

“Oh, everyone.” Dapper touches the knife in Red’s backpack fondly. “They are not scary because I know how to hurt them.”

Max frowns and opens his mouth for a second, but he doesn’t end up saying anything.

“We went by bus a lot in Peru,” says Red. “Do you remember?”

“Blue would hold my hand. It would be crowded. But I had my big brothers.”

Red flushes slightly. “Alright, you little kiss-ass.” He leans in to hug Dapper quickly and Dapper giggles, gripping at his palm. “Okay, then, we’re going to get on the bus and I’ll hold on to you and everything will be okay. I got you.”

“Are you okay with the bus?” asks Max, glancing at Red.

Ro stops short on the pavement, blinking.

He never really thought about it.

“Oh, I - I’m - I.” Blushing at his own stammering, he shakes his head to clear it and straightens up again, pulling Dap along. “I’m used to it. No worries. Buses are better than like, underground subways, so it’s fine. And I got Dap to hold onto.”

He grins at the joke, but Max’s answer, when he gives it, is in earnest.

“You can hold on to me, too,” he says, continuing towards the bus. “If you need.”

Max is wearing gloves even in the heat. No skin. No contact. Red could hold his hand if he wanted to.

Dapper glances between the two of them, frowning, and sticks out his tongue.

“Don’t give me that look,” grumbles Ro, bumping into his shoulder and pulling him along. “I’m not actually going to.”

Anonymous asked: Hey, Max, you're a detective. Do you know anything about the case of Natascha Kampusch? It's a case I think Ro and Dapper need to hear about. A paranoid, physically abusive abductor with certain moments of tender coddling, being isolated and kept in filthy conditions, being given special things and items to keep you attached to your abductor, being kept in a cell and being starved or denied food/medicine if you don't obey... Seems familiar to them I bet.

The bus is hot and purring with gasoline, but it’s not so crowded that Max, Ro, and Dapper can’t sit down together, Dapper kept protectively at Red’s side against the window. He stares out through the glass at the world he is so rarely allowed to be a part of, his nerves dying down, though his paranoia won’t ever let him rest entirely. In the middle, Red holds the camera on his lap, frowning over at Max at the message.

“Uh,” says Max, blinking. “Hm. Well, yeah, I could look that case up if you wanted me to, I suppose. I could - ”

“Let’s just have a happy day,” blurts Red, turning away from him. “Let’s not… let’s just be okay.”

Max goes quiet, looking at him, waiting for him to turn back to him. Waiting for him to be ready, because he knows, after all these years, when Jackie is trying to speak.

“Look, I… I know… that Anti is manipulative,” he says, very softly.

Max nods quietly, his hands clutched in his lap, aware that Dapper must be listening too.

“I know that he doesn’t treat us well. That he could take better care of us if he wanted to. That he chooses not to and never gets help for his temper. That he’s… abusive. I think I’ve always known. He’s never manipulated me quite the same way as the others.”

The bus rattles along. Dapper is staring out the window. Max’s hand is close to Ro’s.

“But, Max, I just - couldn’t leave my family. And Anti is - was? - Anti… I couldn’t leave him behind either. He’s family too. He’s a part of me. And it was either with him or against him, and I - I love him, Max. Even if he doesn’t love me back, I… He doesn’t like me. I know. And he says we’re not a family. He told me, ha. At Christmas, he told me it was just a concept, and that I should know that. That we weren’t a family. But I can’t - I don’t know how to change the way I feel about him, Max. I don’t know how to stop feeling like this. In theory, it’s all well and good. In practice, it’s impossible.”

A gloved hand brushes against Ro’s fingers.

“Jackie,” says Max.

Ro turns his gaze back up to him. Tiger eyes.

“It’s not impossible,” he says. “It just takes time, and help, and courage. And Jackie, Ro. I want to give you the things that I can, and help you find the things I can’t. You’re already here. You’re already putting trust in someone other than Anti. You’re already breaking the rules.”

Ro stares at him, his heart tight and aching.

“It’s not impossible. It’s a hard journey. But you’re already stepping down it. That’s what just having a nice day is, Ro. A nice day without Anti. A nice day where we don’t need him to be happy, or healthy, or okay, if only for this one day. And you have to choose, Jackie - if you want to go back to where you were or keep coming down this path.”

Dapper is looking back up at the both of them. Ro lets his eyes turn away from Max. It’s not a decision he should make because of him, or even because of Dapper.

He thinks maybe this is a decision he should make for himself. For his own needs. For the things he wants.

He thinks maybe it’s okay to make decisions like that.

“I - I do want that,” says Jackie. “I do want a nice day without Anti. I do want to not need him. I do.”

Max’s mouth is made for smiling. Wide and glowing.

“Okay,” he says, very soft, very warm. “Okay. We can.”

Jackie smiles right back at him.

Against the window, Dapper is shaking his head.

Anonymous asked: What about you, Dapper? What do you want?

Dapper sighs and glances over at Max and Red, their faces and their hands too close, their mouths too proud with smiling. He takes his hand away from Ro’s, but he hardly seems to notice.

“He is going to get hurt,” signs Dapper. “Anti never lets things like this last. He is jealous, possessive. Does not share attention. We should go back to our motel room and just live like we were. Better to be hungry than infatuated. I don’t want to watch my big brother get his heart broken.”

“Hey, Dap,” says Red, turning his attention back to him suddenly. “Come on, we’re here.”

He takes his hand again and leads him up. Dapper lets himself be lead, sulking a little, but the more he watches Ro and Max laughing and talking, the less he can hold it against him that he’s allowing himself these small moments of happiness with somebody he likes.

The truth is that Dapper would like to be happy, and for Red to be happy, and even for Max to be happy, maybe, but he doesn’t believe it’s possible anymore.

But he’d also like some new clothes and some lunch. He takes a deep breath in and tries to steady himself.

“Thank you for asking,” he adds. “Please make sure to keep Red safe. If he wants to have a nice day I want that for him too. My big brother.”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Dap, we're not going to rat you out to Anti or anything. Enjoy yourself!

He sighs and tries to smile at you. Okay, okay, you’re right. They’ve got some money and they’re outside the room. That’s good! He is excited, really, or he was before he got so into his head. He needs to try and calm down. It’s okay to have a nice day. It doesn’t mean anything.

“I’m okay,” Dapper reassures himself, stroking his own hair for a moment. “I’m okay, this is okay.”

“Should we start with some clothes?” suggests Max. “Dapper, is there anything you want?”

Dapper looks at him, confused.

“Dapper.” Red pushes at his shoulder. “What do you want to get?”

Bewildered now, Dapper looks up at him, eyes flickering around the store.

“Shirts? Pants? Shoes?”

Dapper’s hands flex and then close again. He stares up at Red, beginning to get stressed.

He hasn’t picked out his own outfit in more than a year.

Anonymous asked: Would it be easier to choose something between two options, JJ? There's no wrong answer here, and no answer you can't take back either. You can change your mind as much as you want, plus you'll still have the clothes you have now.

“Yeah, Dap, deep breaths,” soothes Red, reaching out to put a hand on his shoulder, looking confused. “You, uh - is this hard for you?”

Dapper’s eyes flicker around the store. There’s rows and rows and rows of clothes. He could cry.

“Just pick them out for me!” he begs, tugging on Red’s shirt. “You and Anti always get my clothes for me!”

“Because you were always stuck in your room!”

“I’m not supposed to - I - I know you say Anti’s not here, but I’m still not supposed to, I - ”

“You know what,” interrupts Max, before things can get too out of hand. “I think two options is a great idea. Why don’t we start with shirts, yeah?”

Dapper stares at him, breathing a little fast. Looking at him now, he almost seems familiar.

Dapper nods shortly.

“Okay,” says Max calmly. “Should we look at long-sleeve shirts or short-sleeve shirts?”

“I always wear long-sleeve shirts.”

“Okay. But do you want to wear long-sleeve shirts or short-sleeve shirts?”

“I’m not allowed to - ”

“I’m telling you you are allowed to,” says Red softly, touching his hand. “Come on, little man, take it easy. You can get whatever you want today.”

“When did you decide you were against all of Anti’s rules?”

“Come on, Dap. Let’s not do this. You were with me. You just get a little lost. I think you know what you want, buddy.”

“I don’t.”

“I think you do. Do you want to wear long-sleeve shirts or - ”

“I want to wear t-shirts!” shout Dapper’s hands.

Red’s mouth curls into a smile, a little laughter bubbling in his chest. “Okay. We - ”

“We’re in motherfucking South America! It’s like forty fucking degrees outside! Do I look like I’m goddamn cold-blooded?”

Red is trying not to crack up, his hand over his mouth.

“Am I headed to the opera? Am I seducing women at the king’s ball? Why the fuck do I have to wear a dress shirt every! Single! Goddamn day!”

“Your name is Dapper, even, he really likes you wearing - ”

“My name is Dapper! My name! He made this my brand! I don’t want to wear dress clothes and these horrible tight little shoes every day! They’re for special occasions! They’re supposed to be my nice clothes! For fun, for fancy days when it’s supposed to be fun to dress up! He’s ruined it, it’s not fun anymore, I used to love dressing up like this. Now I’ve killed people in these shoes! I’ve run for miles in these shoes, run until my feet bled in these shoes! Motherfucking high-collared shirt choking the life out of me, I’m like those French aristocrats with the puffy collars, black pants in the heat looking like a government agent or a classical harp player, motherfuck! Teaches me it’s stupid to talk like I’m from the 1920s, teaches me to swear, but thinks I’m at my cutest in an over-sized hoodie or a goddamn dress shirt. Does he - is it a kink, is that what it is, why does he make me - ”

“You are killing me, Dap, stop!” Red is heaving with laughter. “I’ve never seen you talk this much in your entire fucking life.”

“What is he saying?” asks Max, bewildered.

“He wants to wear - ”

“I want to wear T-SHIRTS,” sign-shouts Jameson, grabbing Red’s hand and dragging him towards the casual wear. “I want to wear T-SHIRTS and SNEAKERS and SHORTS, it’s hot as hell outside and I don’t have to be cute, I don’t want to, I’m - how old am I?”

“He wants to know how old he is, Max.”

“Oh, he’s like twenty-eight?”

“I’m like twenty-eight! Don’t have to be cute, goddamn! Buy me a t-shirt.”

“This is the best day of my life,” howls Red, grabbing Max’s hand on instinct to lead them after him. “I had no idea you could rant like that, baby brother, oh my fucking hell. Okay, we can get you whatever you want, haha, we can, can’t we, Max?”

“Whatever you want,” repeats Max, a little star-struck, hurrying after them with his hand in Red’s. “Yes, whatever you want.”

Anonymous asked: Dap you’re allowed happy moments too, okay? Don’t forget that. It’s good that you’re watching out for your brother, I would have done the same thing, but today is an easy get some air day, okay? There’s nothing wrong with staying vigilant but don’t stress out to much

“That’s a great note!” says Dap, and he does not why there’s tears in his eyes. “Yes, I can, I can be happy too, I’m not here for anybody else’s happiness, I can make my own choices, I - I want this t-shirt, Red, with the flowers on it.”

It’s white with hundreds of tiny black flowers repeating in row after row across the fabric.

“Okay,” says Red. “Okay, you can have it.”

“I can have what I want. I can have what I want!” He punches Red’s shoulder suddenly, without knowing why, panting, but his brother only chuckles and reaches out to take his hand again.

“Why doesn’t anybody treat me like an adult?” he asks, hurt panging through his chest. “Why don’t I get to do this all the time?”

Ro sighs, pulling the shirt off the hanger for him. “I don’t know, buddy. I’m sorry I haven’t helped you better with it. I’m sorry I haven’t always let you be what you needed to be.”

“Is it because I’m psychotic? Would you treat me like an adult if I weren’t?”

“I think Anti just decided you’re the baby,” Red replies. “I hope you don’t ever have to feel like we don’t think you’re an adult just because of the psychosis. I know that would kill me, if nobody respected me just because I was autistic.”

Dapper sighs too, taking in a deep breath of the shirt. Clean cloth and store smell. He likes it.

“I respect you,” he says. “Maybe more for the ASD.”

“Thanks, Dap, that’s… good to hear. You too. Pick some more out, okay?” Red encourages. “We’ll get you shoes and some pants too. Comfortable stuff. Pajamas, even.”

“Okay. Yeah.”

Dapper picks out another t-shirt with two grey rhinoceros putting their horns together - “they’re in love!” he exclaims to you, hugging it to his chest - a less suffocating blue button-up with little ships printed on it, and a plan white t-shirt with something he doesn’t understand written in Spanish on the chest pocket. Black off-brand running shoes. Clean white socks and a few pairs of boxers. A three-set of gym shorts he and Red can share, a pair of jeans that can be rolled up at the ankles if he gets too hot, and yellow denim shorts with a pair of smiling suns on the front pockets. These, admittedly, are a little cute after all - but he’s allowed to be that too, and it doesn’t have to be for anybody but himself.

Anonymous asked: fuck yeah jamie!! excellent choices, they're awesome clothes, and they make you happy which is the most important thing. those are your clothes now! you own them, they're yours, only yours, to do whatever you want with! you're a grownass man who can buy his own kinda clothes, and fuck anyone who says otherwise!

Dapper laughs in a way you haven’t seen him laugh hardly ever, throwing his head back and closing his eyes. He holds the clothes close to his chest.

“Yeah, yep, you’re right, you’re right. I wish it was our own money, but maybe someday we can pay Max back.”

He pauses, looking over at Max. He does seem familiar, again. Dapper tilts his head, thinking about him, but he only gets vague images.

“Nice of him,” he says, looking much calmer. The store is mostly quiet at this time of day and he feels unbothered and protected. “He is nice.”

Anonymous asked: do you both wear the same size? just curious actually because jackie you've been going without for him :(

“Ah,” laughs Red nervously. “I… I haven’t been going without, really, I don’t need the jacket most of the time. Rather he had it. But, uh, yeah, well. I’m a little - ”

He cuts himself off with a snort. “Was going to say thicker, haha. I’m allowed exercise and shit like that, so he’s a good deal smaller than me, locked up in his room all day. But we’re just as tall and, like, hips and stuff are the same, so mostly we fit into the same. He drowns a little in my hoodie but he never seems to mind. More places for the little gremlin to hide knives. But, yeah, it’s nice that we can switch it up if we need to.”

He glances over at Max, rifling calmly through some shirts. Red’s pretty sure he’s trying to give them space to make their own decisions, but he feels nervous every time he looks at a price tag. This is going to cost so much money. He blows out a long sigh.

“But it’s fine,” he tells you, nodding. “It’s fine. He wants to get us stuff and he has enough money and he told me to get things I wanted. Hell, well… what do I want?”

Anonymous asked: Ohhh!! Ro what if you got some nice cargo shorts? Or like a t-shirt that’s made of soft material? Maybe a new hoodie? Make sure to check clearance if they have it lmao that stuff might be a bit cheaper than the in season stuff.

“Okay, okay,” nods Ro, considering. “Actually clearance is a great idea.”

He wanders over to the little circle of clothes on clearance, his hands brushing through for material he likes. There’s some fabrics he just won’t wear, and scratchy tags or seams are equally problematic.

“I would like a new hoodie,” he says. “I love the old one but it’s so worn. It’s - oh.”

He stops, turning his head a little. There’s a clean blue hoodie on sale at the back of the mediums.

He puts his hand on it, his fingers running over the surface and the zipper and the strings of the hood. It’s soft to the touch, but not too soft, not too giving. The fabric is thick - hot, to be sure, but good for bearing the brunt of scrapes and scratches. He pulls it between his fingers.

He’s only ever had red and black hoodies. But he doesn’t have to. He doesn’t have to.

He really misses Blue.

He sighs deep through his nose, burying his face in the soft fabric for a long moment. He’s been putting it off. Refusing to think about it.

But he misses him every day.

“I’m sorry I left you behind,” he mumbles to no one. “I’m sorry.”

“Hey,” says Max, coming towards him. “You okay?”

Red looks up. “Yeah,” he says.

“You sure?”

“I just wish the others were all here too. That we all had a chance to choose what we wanted.”

“You will,” promises Max, putting a hand on his shoulder. “You will, okay? I’ll help you find the others.”

Ro looks up at him, but suddenly he doesn’t feel grateful. It’s too much kindness. He’s too good to be true.

What does Max want from him?

No, Ro, don’t start thinking like this, please. He can’t take it, not when something good is finally happening to him.

“Can I get that for you?” asks Max, gesturing at the hoodie. “The color’s really nice.”

“Thanks,” he says. “Yeah, if you don’t mind, I’d really appreciate it.”

“I’m really glad to have a chance to get you things again,” says Max. “Maybe some shirts and a pair of shoes, too, and then we can go get you guys some lunch, yeah? If there’s anything else you need, we’ll pick that up too.”

“Okay, okay,” nods Ro, considering. “Actually clearance is a great idea.”

“I would like a new hoodie,” he says. “I love the old one but it’s so worn. It’s - oh.”

He stops, turning his head a little. There’s a clean blue hoodie on sale at the back of the mediums.

He’s only ever had red and black hoodies. But he doesn’t have to. He doesn’t have to.

He really misses Blue.

He sighs deep through his nose, burying his face in the soft fabric for a long moment. He’s been putting it off. Refusing to think about it.

But he misses him every day.

“I’m sorry I left you behind,” he mumbles to no one. “I’m sorry.”

“Hey,” says Max, coming towards him. “You okay?”

Red looks up. “Yeah,” he says.

“You sure?”

“I just wish the others were all here too. That we all had a chance to choose what we wanted.”

“You will,” promises Max, putting a hand on his shoulder. “You will, okay? I’ll help you find the others.”

Ro looks up at him, but suddenly he doesn’t feel grateful. It’s too much kindness. He’s too good to be true.

What does Max want from him?

No, Ro, don’t start thinking like this, please. He can’t take it, not when something good is finally happening to him.

“Can I get that for you?” asks Max, gesturing at the hoodie. “The color’s really nice.”

“Thanks,” he says. “Yeah, if you don’t mind, I’d really appreciate it.”

Anonymous asked: Hey Ro, it’s okay to be cautious. You’ve learned to second guess things since you’ve been with Anti as a defense mechanism. It’s alright to do that, hell I do it all the time! It helps you think realistically, but don’t let it consume you to the point where you can’t experience anything new or fun because you’re too scared it’s not gonna be real. If It’d help, maybe try talking to Max about it? Your concerns? Communication might help eliminate some of the anxiety you feel towards all this.

Red bites on his lip a little, thinking about it. Communicating - how does he communicate something like that? ‘I’m scared you might be here to kidnap my time traveling little brother? I’m scared you might arrest me after all? I’m scared you want something from me but I don’t know what?’

He takes a deep breath and lets it puff out. Max wanders politely away again to let him shop in peace.

It’s okay to not trust him right away. They can work on it.

But he wonders, somewhere in the back of his head, if he’s letting himself be guided more by the way he feels towards Max than what’s really true or safe for Dapper.

And that has to be the first priority.

Right now, though, Max is helping him take care of Dap and he has everything he needs, so it’s okay for Red to get things too. He calms down and finds himself some nice sweatpants, a pair of good running shoes with green stripes down the sides - a part of him insists Anti will get him even nicer ones when he gets back to him, but he shoves it off - a pair of jeans, cheap sunglasses to help with his overloads, and soft black gloves. He grabs a green flannel-pattern button-up to wear outside some of the t-shirts he already has and then, as a bit of a treat for himself, he gets a nice red and white t-shirt with elbow-length sleeves and a circle of pelicans around his heart.

Max gets everything for them. Red stands beside him, buzzing with nerves, but Max never shows a hint of irritation or regret. In fact, he seems to only get happier as the day continues - he talks more and more. And more and more. Actually, he kind of talks a lot.

Red loves it.

A stream of white noise in Max’s soothing voice, eagerly communicating his excitement to him at all times, making everything feel happy and enthusiastic to him. Max chatters about pelicans and food and Colombia and the places he’s tracked him to and books and movies and everything he’s missed while he’s been with Anti.

“At this point I was in a hotel in Budapest,” says Max. “Still undercover, hadn’t heard from you in two months, thought you were safe at home, thinking about how you’d probably gone to see the new Black Panther movie without me. And it was so horrible at the time, but it seems funny now, cause I got back and you were gone and I was so lost, so lost. So scared for you. But I just remember in the midst of like a complete fucking breakdown I had this thought - well, he probably didn’t see Black Panther 2 without me, we can go together when I find him.”

Max shakes his head and laughs at himself, moving with them down the mall. Dapper is engaged in everything going on around him - people, shops, colors, lights, smells, food, merchandise. But Red - Red is just fixated on Max.

They pick up everything they need from a little general store. Shampoo, soap, deodorant, toothpaste, new toothbrushes - Ro could cry at just the thought of his teeth feeling clean - and combs, sunscreen, a bag of tea and a bag of coffee, more beef jerky for an eager-looking Dapper, a camera to make new IDs, stylist’s scissors, a burner phone, vitamins and a first-aid kit, charcoals and a drawing pad - the list seems endless to Red, but he feels grateful again, just watching Max, and Dapper seems calm and happy, racing around to get things off the shelves.

“And I haven’t like been having a ton of fun without you, you know? I’ve been looking for you, mostly alone, and I just - I just really want to catch up on everything with you, I do. So we should see Black Panther 2 sometime, that’s all I’m saying. Oh! And there’s another one out soon, you know, we’ll see everything. I’ll take you wherever, we can do whatever. I found you, you’re okay!”

Max whirls on him suddenly and Ro almost jolts at the sight of tears in his eyes. Max looks at him like he’s something so - so -

Red turns his head away, unable to bear it. Max looks at him like he’s something so wonderful. So worthwhile. So good. Max is crying tears of joy just for him.

“Um,” he says, squeezing Dapper’s hand. “Where did you have in mind for lunch?”

“Oh, anywhere,” says Max reverently. “I’ve just been cooking at my place. I’ll get you anything.”

“We should try real Colombian food,” says Dapper. “I never get to try anything actually ethnic and I’ve been to so many countries.”

“Sure,” says Max.

“Can we get something to go?” asks Ro. “I don’t want to be out in public any longer than I have to.”

“Also a good idea,” says Max. “Let’s pick something up and head back. I love ethnic food from like, everywhere. I’ll make you Indian food sometime, okay? I know you love curry and naan and stuff, and we can get everything we need again, cause it’s been so long since I had a stocked kitchen and everything, I’ve just been looking for you…”

He moves back into a long trail of talking, looking years younger than he did the night Red saw him in that greenhouse. Red feels younger too.

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

“And I figured, like - at this point if it’s not Anti, then I have bigger problems than him, because the power outage was incredible. Whole country was a wreck, the national government got involved, and I’m guessing for sure that’s Anti, got to be, but now I think about it, honestly you must have helped far as I can reckon, because the hacking that must have taken - ”

“I don’t remember that at all,” says Ro, trailing after him back towards the motel, smiling. Dapper’s swinging their food back and forth in hand, listening to the padding of his new shoes down the concrete.

“I really don’t understand, still, entirely the reason behind it, but then again I figure - ”

And then Max is grabbing Red and shoving him into an alley, pinning him down against a wall. Red screams aloud and grabs his wrist to break it, terror bursting against his veins, and then Max hisses, “Jackie, police, police!”

Heart still pounding, Red turns his head around and sees a pair of police cars parked directly outside of the motel where they’ve been staying.

Dapper shoves Max bodily away from Red, hissing through his teeth, putting his body between theirs.

Anonymous asked: Dapper, it's okay, he wasn't trying to hurt him. There's police there, be careful, now isn't time for fighting, it's time for running.

“They’re right, we have to go,” murmurs Max, tugging on Red’s sleeve.

“Where?” stammers Red. The red and blue lights aren’t even flashing and the sight of them is still paralyzing. His heart feels thin and rapid in his chest. “I can’t - he can’t sleep on the street anymore, I need a place for him.”

“You can come stay with me,” says Max gently. “I have a nicer hotel room with a little kitchen and everything. There’s two beds.”

Red pauses, staring at him.

He shakes his head.

Clears his throat.

“Why’s there two beds?”

“I was hoping to find Jameson. You know that.”

Red’s stance is stiff and wary.

“Right… Yeah.”

“I don’t want to sleep with him,” protests Dapper, hiding against Red’s shoulder. “This isn’t safe. Convenient timing for the cops to get here, detective.”

“I can’t tell what he’s - ”

“He said this was convenient timing for the cops,” Red translates sharply, wrapping an arm around Dap. “Cops you’ve been talking with.”

Max lets out a nervous laugh, shaking his head. “You - you can’t think I would actually - I helped you get away, don’t you remember?”

Red sighs, loosening his grip on Dapper a little.

bupine asked: guys, max wouldn't sell you out. why would he have bothered taking you shopping? i can get why you're paranoid, but that doesn't make sense. if max wanted you arrested, he'd have done it by now.

“Right,” says Ro, and you see his cheeks fill up with blood. He turns his head away. “Fuck, I - I’m sorry, Max, I just - ”

Max is turned slightly away from him, gripping his gloved hands together.

“I’m just paranoid.”

Max turns his gaze back up to him, shaking his head a little.

“Ro… Jackie. This isn’t easy for me either, really. I don’t know if Anti’s going to come back for you. I don’t know if he’s in your head or if he can see us through these cameras. But I don’t want to hurt you. I want you to be okay.”

“It’s just all too sudden and random. It’s like winning a lottery I didn’t know I bought tickets for.”

“There are people in the world who care about you, Ro,” Max insists, managing to smile for him again. “Not just you, your whole family. Stacy, Marvin’s club, the rest of the Kamenyes…”

Dapper stiffens slightly.

“Let’s just try going back to my place, okay? The beds even have a wall and a door between them. You and Jameson can have your own room and privacy and you can lock me out if you need to.”

“Okay,” says Ro softly. “Thank you.”

“It’s my fault, really. I should have known that if I could track you, so could these cops.”

“But slower,” adds Red. “Guess you’re the better detective.”

“No, Red, I can’t go!” Dapper cuts them both off. “I need my bear!”

“What? I thought I packed the whole room. I always do.”

“He’s behind the curtains on the window!”

“Why would you put him there?”

“He tells me if Anti’s coming!” cries Dapper, tugging on his shirt. “I need him!”

“Dap, we can’t go back just for a bear. I’ll get you a new one, buddy. You love new stuffies.”

Dapper shakes his head furiously, scrambling to get his knife out of Red’s backpack. He’ll go through the cops himself if he has to.

“Blue got me my bear to look after me while he’s away!”

“Dapper, come on! Don’t make me handcuff you again!”

Max’s eyes widen, his hands gripping suddenly together.

Anonymous asked: Hey, Dap, it's okay. The police don't know there's anything special about your bear. They don't even know he's yours, right? No way to track him. They can look in the room, but if Jackie didn't find your bear, they probably won't either. You guys can take some time. We'll be keeping an eye out for Anti too, and we can tell you if he's coming in the meantime. And maybe later, once the police leave and it's safe, one of you can go back to get your bear? Can you go just a little while without him?

“I don’t want to be in a room with him without my bear,” whines Dapper.

“Dap, listen to what they’re saying. We are going to protect you, not the bear. You’re having a delusion, Dapper, that thing isn’t real.”

Dapper’s face whitens, his hands gripping shakily together.

Red sighs, leaning forward to touch him. “I’m sorry, just - please, give me a couple days to try and get it back?”

Dapper hides against his collarbone, sighing.

Anonymous asked: maybe max can get the bear for you, dap

“Don’t touch my bear!” protests Dapper, whirling on him.

“No, that’s perfect,” says Max gently. “Can I have the keys, Ro?”

“Yeah, sure. Thank you, shit.”

“I don’t want it if he touches it,” grumbles Dapper.

“Okay, Dap,” snaps Red. “Now you’re just being a brat.”

“Ro,” Max cuts him off. “Can I talk to him for a second? Just the two of us?”

Red blinks, startled. For a second, his hand tightens on Dapper’s arm. But he looks between the two of them and makes his decisions.

“Red, Red!” Dapper complains, trying to follow him. Max stands quietly in front of him, biting on his lip.

“Jameson,” he says. “Jameson.”

“That’s not my name!”

“Is Dapper?” asks Max, exasperated.

His hands go silent, turning bitterly away.

“I wanted to apologize,” says Max. “If I’ve been too focused on Jackie. We were closer, we were - but the two of us, you know, we got on well too. I’ve missed you. I came here thinking you were the only one left alive, Jameson.”

“Please,” he begs. “Don’t call me that.”

“Is JJ alright?”

“Fine. I don’t care.”

“JJ, I keep thinking - ha, I don’t know. It feels like you remember me even better than Ro does. But you won’t even look at me. Don’t you remember me? Weren’t we friends?”

JJ doesn’t look at him.

“I remember you. I remember that you worked at a veterinarian clinic during the week and that you helped build houses for people during the weekend. I remember that you were learning ASL and could understand most of Henrik’s German. I remember your violin playing for so long Chase would go drag you out of your room before you made your fingers bleed. Charcoal art pinned up all over your wall and an antique clock collection all across your room. I remember you, JJ. Other people remember you too. Other people still love you.”

JJ has turned slightly back to him, his eyes faraway.

“I lost that person,” whisper his hands, slow so Max can follow.

“It’s okay to change,” answers Max softly. “That doesn’t mean that the person you were is completely gone.”

JJ stares at the ground, his face ashy.

“Let me go get your bear for you,” Max asks.

JJ doesn’t answer. Max waits one minute, two. Finally he sighs and turns to get the keys from Jackie, and goes to get his bear.

“Hey, don’t cry,” whispers Red, coming back to his brother and taking his hand again. “What’s wrong, buddy? Come here. It’s alright. It’s alright.”

Anonymous asked: Just stay calm everyone alright? Think about this Dap, that bear has a lot of meaning to you but compare that to the possibility of sleeping In a cold cell if you went back for it. Maybe they won’t find it and you can come back for it later? The priority right now is not to get caught and if you go back there Anti will find you. Go with Max and Ro and stay out of sight bud, come on, please?

“Exactly, exactly,” agrees Ro, stroking his shoulder. “You’ll come back to Max’s place, right, bud? Better than sleeping in fucking jail. I’m going to keep you safe. I wouldn’t let anybody hurt you, would I?”

JJ shakes his head. Now he just looks exhausted.

“If Max can get the bear back, great. But hopefully we can get you medicine soon so you don’t feel like you need it and the paranoia isn’t so bad. Right?”

“This isn’t where I’m supposed to be,” he answers, staring around him. “It was never where I was supposed to be. Such an odd and terrible timeline.”

“Um.” Ro looks around. “Well. Gotta do our best with what we have, right?”

“I think I’ve lost… great parts of myself,” he says.

Ro scoffs and kicks his foot across the ground. “I feel you, bud. I feel you.”

Anonymous asked: It's just like what you said about Ro, JJ. You were never dead, just sleeping. Just forced into dormancy by a monster.

JJ laughs quietly. He likes that imagery, really. You know him by now - reflective and introspective, thoughtful and often lost in his musings and tortured confusions. Never dead, just sleeping. How Biblical. How hopeful.

He wants some of that back, some of that hope. Some of that person who played music til his fingers bled and could come and go as he pleased.

But he comes and goes so often. He sleeps and dies and wakes and rises and falls again.

Anonymous asked: Awe, I'm sorry JJ, I know it's really rough right now. It's hard when you lose things, especially such important parts of yourself. Thank you for trusting Max and Ro in this. It'll turn out okay. You're really brave, JJ, and really strong.

“Hey,” calls Max, returning, and there’s the bear in his hands. Ursa Minor, Ursa Major. Marvin used to call him Asteriscus. He remembers. Bits and pieces. Friends and home.

“Thank you,” JJ tells you quietly, taking the bear from him. It’s hard to lose pieces but they’re not all gone.

And if he’s not brave, he wants to be. If he’s not strong - no. He is. He has been. For a long time. He’s alive, isn’t he? And there are still parts of him - still parts of him, not dead but asleep. Still parts of him that wake up every now and then and fight like hell. He remembers slapping Anti right in the face and he wants to laugh and hide at the same time.

“Ready to go?” asks Ro, squeezing his shoulder. He nods and they move away, keeping close to crowds and shadows, heading towards Max’s room.

Anonymous asked: Max, do you see something? What's wrong?

Max did, in fact, notice something.

He trails behind Ro and JJ, feeling tired himself, though he tries to stay happy and calm for their sakes. He’s got to. He’s got to earn their trust back.

It’s just one more thing he lost the day he lost everything.

“You were my family,” he almost wants to say. He wants to shout it. “In more ways than one. You held me when my father died. You celebrated holidays with me. You took me to the hospital when my appendix burst and Henrik hit another doctor with a clipboard for trying to perform on me without him. You knew me and I knew you. It’s not fair that you’ve forgotten. It’s not fair that I had to hear you threaten to handcuff him. He’s psychotic and he’s scared and he’s your brother and you threatened to handcuff him. You would never do that. Jackie would never do that.”

But he doesn’t say anything. And he tries to stay happy and calm.

“Stop being selfish,” he wants to tell himself. “Stop thinking about what you want. They’ve been through hell and you need to help him find himself again instead of mourning like an idiot over who he used to be.”

He always promised himself that whatever had happened to JJ, he would still love him. He would still forgive him and help him come back to himself.

But seeing Jackie as Red - much as he wants to help - is not something he expected.

The promise he made to Jackie was to save Jameson if Jackie wasn’t there to do it himself.

Max stops suddenly in the middle of the pavement. Ro notices him stop and turns around, frowning.

“Max?”

Max beckons him closer. Ro pauses, glancing at Dapper, and drops his hand long enough to come back to Max for a moment.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

Max touches the string of his hoodie, just for a second.

“Don’t ever threaten to handcuff him again,” he croaks, unable to meet his eyes.

Ro blinks at him, confused.

“Ro, promise me. Don’t ever threaten him at all again.”

Shame in Ro’s face. Shame filling his face up. He looks away, reddened.

“Jackie, promise - ”

“I won’t,” says Ro, soft and bitter, closing his eyes. “I… I won’t. I promise.”

“Okay,” whispers Max, his throat burning. “Good.”

He walks ahead of them. He hears Ro call his name again, but he doesn’t answer. He needs a minute.

He knew it would be this hard. Why does it hurt so much worse than he thought it would?

He takes a deep breath in and finds his smile again. Calm and happy. Calm and happy. He has to help them find themselves. He won’t watch them get hurt anymore.

Anonymous asked: Are you alright, Max?

“Oh,” says Red, startled, as they enter the little hotel room. “It is nice, Max. I didn’t know there were places this nice in this part of the world.”

Max smiles wearily, a little sad from the statement, because truthfully it’s just an average little hotel room, with clean floors and beds and little bottles of shampoo in the shower. But Jackie hasn’t had nice things in a long time and Max wants to give him - anything, everything, everything he wants. He doesn’t know how else to say I still love you without saying it out loud. And Jackie isn’t ready to hear him say it. Jackie’s barely ready to let him buy him shoes at the mall.

The way anger and hurt and “it’s not fair!” are boiling in his stomach, he thinks maybe he’s not ready to say it again either. Not yet. But he still wants to. He wants to say and do so many things. Wants to touch him again, wants to -

He shakes his head and laughs at himself as Red settles Dapper down to eat the food he bought them. They’ll have rice and meat and vegetables, so much all three of them get full, really full, for the first time in weeks.

That’s good. It’s good.

Yeah, he’s fine. Not really, okay, but he can be. He shoots you a little grin and a thumbs up. He’s flushed from the heat and his eyes are bright. Dark hair is curling into his eyes. He just wants to be happy they’re here. He wants to give them both anything they need. Right now, that’s all he can do, and he’s proud to do it.

“Should we get some food?” he asks them, and JJ hefts the bag of take-out, hugging his bear to his chest with his free hand, and yes, everything’s alright, everything’s alright.

Everything’s better than alright, because even if he’s not the man he was, Jackie is here, Jackie is alive. Max is with him again. The rest is semantics. Stop being sad, dumbass! he tells himself.

He takes a minute to himself in the bathroom while Ro and Dap settle in. And when he comes out, honestly, things are better in his heart, and he’s okay. He is. He’s alright. There are triggers for bad emotions and by fuck does he have them, but there are also happy triggers. And dinner with Jackie and JJ - Jackie’s face and the thought, even if not spoken out loud, the thought I love you directed at him, directed at his blue eyes and dark hair and his honest, smiling face -

Max is happy in a way that goes down deep, past the hurt and the fear and the loss and the grief. Max is happy.

“We’re going to have food,” he says.

Ro smiles at him. Eyes bright.

“And I’m going to put on your favorite music.”

“I don’t remember what that is,” Ro laughs.

“And we’re going to be okay. And we’ll sit on the bed and watch a movie and everything will be alright. Okay?”

“Okay,” says Jackie, very soft, his guilt melting away in the face of Max’s joy for him. “Okay, that sounds good.”

“Sounds good, JJ?”

“Sounds okay,” says JJ, leaning against Ro’s shoulder. “Sounds pretty okay.”

“Okay.”

He sits down with them right there on the floor of the hotel room.

He’s alright. They’re alright. I love you, he does not say, but he means it. He means it.

Anonymous asked: Even if you are "Dapper", even if you've been forced to be a baby, forced to simper and play puppy, you are also always still Jameson Jackson. Always still the man who fought like hell against his tormentor, always still the man who bitch slapped Antisepticeye, always still the strong person who's still kept parts of himself alive and well even after all the manipulation and pain and torment. Nothing the demon does can truly take away who you are.

Max puts a pork crackling in his mouth and almost chokes on it. “You bitch-slapped Anti?”

Dapper hides against his box of white rice, grinning just a little. “Maybe…”

“Don’t remind me,” groans Ro. “He and Dok both got in so much trouble.”

“I did fight, though,” says JJ softly. “I did, I do not give in easily, I do not give up easily. I did not want to wear my little - I want to go put my t-shirt on!”

He gets up and yanks it right out of Red’s backpack, ducking off to the bathroom to change.

“He must get hot in that.”

“Honestly I don’t know how he does it. Like Norway, maybe, but Peru?”

“He is tough, he’s a tough little guy. He always has been.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, totally. Not scared of anything.”

Ro chuckles and picks at his brisket.

“Um… hey, I’m sorry I threatened him. I just - have a lot of issues with the, like… hierarchy we have, and I just… I’m working on it.”

“We’ll work on it together,” says Max, and Ro smiles shyly at him. “You haven’t had a chance to treat him like a real brother in a while.”

JJ comes back in his rhino shirt. He sits a little closer to Max than he did before.

“I’m tough,” he says to himself, taking a piece of Ro’s brisket and making him laugh. “I am.”

He looks torn between nervous and elated, his eyes distant with memories. Letting himself reminisce. A time traveler never really forgets, even if his brothers do. Even if a demon tries to take him away from himself.

Anonymous asked: Max, bud, your emotions and responses are just as justified as theirs. There are such things as second hand victims. You might not have gone through things at the same degree that they did, but that does not mean you have not suffered or that what happened has not affected you in any way.

“I’m so full,” whispers Ro.

“I probably should have cut you off at some point for your own health,” Max whispers back.

“Shut up,” laughs Ro, smacking his shoulder, and they dissolve into quiet laughter over the remains of their meal.

Dapper is asleep across Ro’s lap, hugging his bear. Max’s laptop is playing a movie Red hasn’t paid attention to on the mattress in front of them. And they’re sitting close together, just talking.

Cause it turns out “talking more about everything” didn’t mean reliving months of trauma when Max said it. He just wanted to talk. And it’s easy. It’s easy to talk to Max.

“Everyone’s really okay?”

“I mean… we’re never great, you know? But we’re alive.”

“I really thought you were dead.”

“That’s horrible,” says Ro. “I’m sorry.”

Max smiles softly at him.

“They’re right, you know. You… you matter too, Max.”

Max looks down at his feet, still smiling unhappily.

“Have you been alone this whole time?” asks Ro, almost afraid to know the answer.

“I left England almost right away,” Max whispers back. “Don’t have any family. Cut off contact with my friends. Scared Anti would notice me. And I’d just been undercover for months, so I was already… I don’t know.”

He laughs miserably, shaking a hand through his hair.

“I did bad things over those months, you know. Really bad things to keep my cover safe. I got the head guy, in the end. It was good work. But it felt horrible. Still feels horrible. And I spent the whole time thinking about how I’d come back to you.”

“To me?” asks Ro.

“Um. To - to all of you,” adds Max.

“Right.”

“It was hard. But it doesn’t matter now. I’m with you again.”

He looks up at Red. There’s an explosion on the screen and they both flinch and then laugh, hiding their faces from each other for a second, leaning a little closer with the weight of their laughter.

“I want a chance to heal alongside you,” says Max after a beat, and their eyes are flickering between each other’s eyes and hands and mouths. “I want to have a chance to be with you again. That’s all I want anymore. Forget the past and we’ll rebuild.”

But Ro is shaking his head slowly, looking up at him.

“Max,” he says. “I’m not the person I was.”

“Does it sound like I am?” Max returns quickly. “Jackie, I know what it’s like to feel broken.”

“But you’re so good,” answers Ro, his voice raw. “You’re so… I don’t… Max, soon you’re going to see what I really am, like you got a glimpse of when I said I’d handcuff him. I’ve done worse things than that. Someday, you’re going to see who I am really, behind all this, and then you’re not going to want me anymore. Max, I’m just going to hurt you. I’m not your friend anymore. I’m some shell of him. I died and Anti made me over again. You should go, Max. You should go before you realize Jackie’s really gone. And Red - he isn’t worth you sticking around for. You’ve already wasted so much of your life on us. You don’t have to waste your friendship too.”

“Waste,” says Max, low and reverent. “Waste.”

His hand has come to rest just beside Red’s stomach in the space between them. He didn’t notice it getting closer. He can hear his heart in his ears.

“I don’t know how to tell you,” begins Max softly, certainly, trying. “How… I… Waste. No. No. You are worth anything.”

Ro hears himself laugh. His eyes sting. He turns slightly away.

Max takes his arm and pulls him back. He doesn’t force him to look him in the eyes, but they do come close again. They do breathe in the same air and their hands rest beside each other on the bed. And Ro could touch him. Ro could touch him and he thinks, suddenly, that Max would allow it, and he is afraid.

“I don’t care what you’ve done,” says Max. “I don’t care. I’m not going anywhere, Jackie. You are worth anything I have to offer. We made promises, you and me. I guess you don’t remember, but it doesn’t matter. I’d give you anything you asked for, I would, I don’t care. I don’t care if it sounds naive. I knew what to expect if Anti ever got his hands on Jamie again. I know the way he uses people. I know the things you must have done. I don’t care. I’ve done them too. You can’t surprise me. You can’t drive me away. I… you are my family, Jackie. Ro. Whoever you are, you are my family. And that’s all that matters.”

And Ro wants to say something, to do something, to touch him, maybe, if he could. He’d like to tell him that he’s wrong, but also that he’d do anything to make him right. He’d like to tell him that he’s sorry and that he wants to be his family too, but he doesn’t know how. He wants to tell him he’s trying to believe him. He wants to push him away and hold onto him at the same time. He wants to touch his hand.

“I think I’m going to go to bed,” he says instead.

Max’s face falters with the grief of it for a moment, but then he is smiling again, calm and happy, calm and happy, and Ro is sorry, because already he is showing Max all the things he really is: too cowardly to talk to him, too cowardly to touch him, too broken to be able to have conversations like him, too lost in his own self-pity to even try.

“Get some sleep,” says Max warmly, smiling at him. Smiling so warm at him.

Ro nods and scoops up Dapper in strong arms, taking him to the bed in the other room. His little brother wakes up long enough to glance at him and see the upset in his face, but Red just shakes his head and tells him to go back to sleep, and JJ is too tired to protest.

Ro lies down, waiting for his own self-deprecation to begin attacking, attacking, eating him alive.

But strangely enough, it doesn’t, not know.

Maybe it’s warm food or a warm bed or a warm hand close to his own, but he doesn’t feel cold.

He lies awake and thinks, over and over again:

“You are worth anything. I don’t care what you’ve done.”

Max’s smiling mouth.

Jackie falls asleep.

End Section Eight of Chapter Three: Places to Find Home

#writers of jack #chapter three

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my-whumpy-little-heart · 5 years ago

Text

Llyr and the Pirates - Day 14

Day 14: Tied to a Figurehead

(okay, the figurehead actually didn’t make it into the part because it got too long. I was able to imply, but this will happen in tomorrow’s piece along with escape attempt. Sorry!!)

For @amonthofwhump‘s Water Whump May, where I write a part of this story every day according to the prompt. 1500 words and we didn’t even get to the point, y’all. This is what my life has come to since the beginning of the month when my goal was <1000 each day.

Tag list: @spiffythespook, @castielamigos-whump-side-blog, @insanitywishes, @whumpingonarainyday

Content warnings: sinking in quicksand, dislocated joint (again oops)

Llyr glanced around himself, feeling the sand shift and squish below his feet. It took him a few more seconds to realize he was sinking alarmingly quickly into it, but the panic only set in when he realized-

He couldn’t pull his feet out.

He started with trying to lift his feet to calmly and carefully step up, but the thin layer of sand they were trapped under was more akin to a brick. The sand was up to his ankles now, and he struggled against its grip, jumping and wiggling back and forth only to sink further and faster. Whining in terror, he tried to move with as much force as possible, whatever it would take to get out of whatever this was supposed to be.

“Llyr! Don’t struggle, please, just calm down,” Ray said, but it was so far away and his problem was right here because he was still sliding down as the sand sucked him in like a gaping hole. It was cold underneath the surface, and it only seemed to harden more securely around his legs the longer he was under. “It’s quicksand! The more you struggle, the faster you sink!”

That caught his attention, and he looked up to see Ray across from him, waving frantically with his bound arms.

“You gotta get out of there. Lean back, Llyr, that’ll help I promise.” It strained against the arms holding it back, obviously wanting to help. Under the surface thoughts of sheer terror and panic, Llyr wondered what it could have even done to help him. If it had stepped forward, they would have been stuck in the patch together, which was even worse.

He did try to lean back like Ray said, figuring it had to be better than nothing, and it nearly worked when he felt his feet shifting the sand up, but a hand pushed him back up straight.

“None of that. You’re staying right where you are,” Gawain said, “unless you’d like to see him hurt as well.”

Llyr looked back up at Ray, straining against the person holding it, and looking more distressed with every centimeter he sank. It was nearly up to his knees now, constricting so tightly it felt like his legs would stop working. Gawain leaned down to where his eye level was now, and whispered in his ear

“On second thought, this is already torture enough for him, isn’t it?” It laughed, straightening back up. He only glared, trying to keep up the facade of defiance.

However, Llyr’s hands were still held above his head as instructed, too frightened to move them down, and Gawain took hold of the left one in a tight grip. It held it steady below the cuff and took one of the hooks still dangling down from the boat. For a horrifying moment, Llyr was sure it was about to be shoved straight through his palm.

Gawain hooked it right underneath the shackle instead, but the sharp metal still scraped his wrist as it was pushed through the small space, sending warm blood dribbling down his arm. It did the same with the other, the two thick ropes now suspending his hands above his head. “Why- what are those for?” he asked, but he already knew the answer.

“When you’ve served your full punishment, those are going to help pull you out. Unless you’d rather be left to suffocate in the sand, of course.” it said.

“But... uh, my shoulders…”

“Yes, what about those? They’ll be fine, I’m sure,” it said so seriously that it was nearly infuriating.

“The last time they did this, they- it came out of place. It might do that again,” he cringed, feeling the pull as he kept sinking, but the ropes were too slow in giving slack. The sand climbed over his thighs, and he couldn’t help the panicked, hitching breaths that started to override his attempted calm demeanor.

“They? Who’s done this to you before? Has someone else caught you stealing, brat?”

“I didn’t,” he insisted again, unwilling to give in to the man’s lie, “but… but Hugh, he um, he hurt me and- and he did that.”

“Did he now…” it turned away from where he was still sinking down and down into the earth, instead focusing on Hugh. It’d been quiet the whole time, expression split between smug satisfaction at his punishment, and frustration at being held in chains. It frowned, now, nervous as the captain approached. “He was gonna steal from us, and I had to stop the dumb thing,” Hugh explained, already anticipating the question and rolling his eyes. “So no, he didn’t trick us, but he sure hurt someone else for that fancy ass cloak he’s got on.”

Gawain turned around, looking at Llyr properly for perhaps the first time since it’d found him. Its eyes looked down what was left showing of his figure, with the quicksand still claiming his thighs and freezing his entire lower body in its grasp.

“Hmm, would you prefer to do the honors then?” it asked, looking back at Hugh.

“Honors? What’re you talking about?”

“No effective punishment would allow the recipient to die,” Gawain said, as if its point was already obvious. “I’m asking you to help knock him loose when it’s time to get him out. Whichever way you please, as retribution for him getting such a respectable man as yourself wrapped up in this.”

“Oh. Oh! Gotcha. Yeah, ‘course, my pleasure,” it grinned.

Gawain left Hugh over there with a guard who removed the chain on its ankle cuffs and walked it over.

“Hmm, fancy cloak indeed. Wonder what poor man you took this off of- oh and look at that. A hole. Some thief you are, damaging whatever you can get your hands on. I should hope there aren’t any weak links in my locket, now, for your sake…” it examined the cloak, which reached down his back and was now brushing the quicksand, nearly being engulfed by it. “I’ll take that for you. Would be a shame if such a well crafted item went to waste.”

“Hey- no!” Llyr shouted, leaning away when it reached for the sealskin around his neck, but he could only wriggle so far. The sand pulled him faster as he struggled, and Gawain was able to unfasten the cloak from his neck and pull it away anyway. “No!! Give it- give- please, I need that!!” He screamed and shouted as it handed his cloak off to a crewman, muttering something before turning back.

A brat indeed,” it scoffed. “The only person that needs this cloak is whoever you stole it from, and I’m sure we’ll be able to find them as soon as we’re back on the mainland.”

He wanted to shout exactly why he needed that cloak, that it really was his and that they had no right to take it from him, but they’d never believe that. He wept as the sand crept over his hips and the possession his entire identity revolved around was taken from him. The human with it rounded a corner back into the ship and disappeared from sight.

“No, no!! ...no, no nonono--” Llyr cried, despair setting in. They ignored him.

“Hugh, loosen him up. My men only need the signal and we’ll lift him out,” it said, and he saw Hugh stride in front of him, just around the puddle of quicksand he was sinking into.

It obeyed without another word, flashing a grin before pulling back its leg and kicking right into Llyr’s gut. The pain was instantaneous and blunt, forcing out a shout as it pushed the air from his lungs. He doubled over, but the leg came to his side, kicking out again and again all around him. Bruising force pushed him against the sand around him, moving it and pulling him down faster.

“What are you doing?! Stop it, sto-!” Hugh kicked him right beneath the ribs and he screamed, the heat and hurt spiking as he doubled over, struggling to breathe. The beating didn’t stop, but Llyr did notice the strain building back up on his shoulders. It took him a moment to notice the hooks in his shackles were pulling him up now, their only leverage being his wrists.

He didn’t actually move up at first, and for a terrible moment, he was being stretched too far, pulled up by the insistent ropes and back down by the sand he was stuck fast in and he couldn’t breathe and there were still kicks rocking him back and forth endlessly.

Then he felt the sand spread apart as he started moving up with the hooks. Through eyes blurred with tears in dizziness, he could see Ray still struggling in front of him, shouting and pulling against the arms holding it in place.

“Lift from his chest! He just told you about his shoulder, it’s gonna-” Llyr’s scream cut him off, and the pain was worse this time when his shoulder came out. The ropes didn’t stop lifting, even when he writhed and shrieked from where he hung in midair, mindless with the pressure tearing him apart. He didn’t even notice he was out when Gawain walked slowly around him, observing his agony with a careful eye.

“Please! Ple-ease lemme down, please it h-hurts!” Llyr cried, twitching and kicking, trying to find solid ground that was just far enough away.

“Hm,” Gawain hummed dismissively, turning to Ray. “Take that one below deck, and the other to the crew quarters. I’ll get the thief to the bow for his good night’s rest.”

Next part

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legolaslovely · 5 years ago

Text

The Note

A/N: Another Kili story because I love my Durin boys. I got the idea from one of @thereandbackagainimagines ‘s imagines (this one) but changed it to be a Kili story. Hope you guys enjoy. I have so many stories coming for you guys it’s not even funny. Like 9 drafts that are ready to post. I have a problem, it’s fine.

Pairing: Kili x Reader

Word Count: 1,816

Warnings: Mostly fluff, a leetle angst for plot

Summary: While traveling with the company, (Y/N) receives a note from a secret admirer and she’s not sure what to believe.

You sighed and wondered when this awful day was going to end. You were dead tired and hungry, one of the straps had snapped off your pack, and your best dagger’s handle had broken again. You were ready to turn around and go back to the Shire and give up. Silently, Fili drudged beside you, keeping you company at the back of the group.

You looked up as Kili called your name. He took your broken pack off your shoulders and said, “We’re stopping here for the night.”

“Thank Mahal, you said, stretching your muscles. “I gotta figure out how to fix this pack before tomorrow or my back will surely be broken by the time we reach Erebor.” The second you plopped down on the ground, Thorin gave you an order.

“Go gather firewood.”

You suppressed your eye roll and stood, feeling your feet ache more than ever.

Kili took your hand and helped you up. “(Y/N), I’ll go. Stay here.”

You waved him off. “It’s okay, it’s my turn.” You smiled at him. Kili and his brother could always lift your spirits and they were often helping you with your duties when you let them.

“Okay then…uh, before you go, can you tell me, d-do you know which way the river is?” Kili asked, hands behind his back.

You nodded slowly. “It hasn’t moved for the past three days, Kili. To the north,” you said, pointing to your left.

“Oh, that’s right. Thanks.”

You chuckled and turned down the hill.

It didn’t take long for you to find ample firewood. It was honestly the best you’d found this week. After you stacked it and started the fire over which Balin would cook, you returned to where you’d left your pack. “Now to fix this blasted thing,” you said to yourself.

You gasped when you looked down. Your bedroll had already been set out. At the head of it, rest your pack. You knelt down, taking the straps in your fingers, seeing it had been repaired. Your thumb rolled over the neat stitching. “Who’s done this?” you asked out loud though there was no one to answer. Behind you on the roll lay your dagger. It too was repaired with a note wrapped around it.

Anything for you, my darling, amrâlimê. Meet me on the south side of the river. I’ll be waiting for you.

Your brow furrowed deeply as you read the note. You didn’t recognize the handwriting. You looked up to see most of the company away from the camp with their dinner duties. The only one around to ask for advice was Thorin, who was the last dwarf you wanted to talk to about something like this.

Nevertheless, you walked over to him, interrupting him as he set out his bedroll. “Um, Thorin? Do you think Azog knows what we’re trying to do? Do you think he knows we’re here?”

He looked to you and sighed, dropping his pack on the ground. “There’s always a possibility. He has spies everywhere. But I can assure you, we are most prepared for him.”

“I’m not worried. I was just… wondering what you thought. Never mind.” You turned away and heard him continue.

“My nephews would die before they let anything happen to you, (Y/N). Don’t worry,” he mumbled.

“No one will be dying for me any time soon,” you said. He actually chuckled.

You read the note over again. Who was calling you amrâlimê? No one had ever called you that in your life. You sat on your bedroll and decided to ignore the note. While no one was around, you absently grabbed your dagger and skillfully twirled it in your fingers, tapping the blade and switching it open. The contraption worked smoother than it ever had before. Who had done this?

You stood, tucking the weapon in your trousers, and crossed to the wood. On your way by, you said to Thorin, “I’m going to the river. I’ll be back shortly.” He grunted in response.

You sneaked through the wood with your hand on your dagger. With every step closer to the river, you grew more certain that this wasn’t a good idea. You should have waited, you should have brought someone with you, you should have ignored the note!

The rippling water grew louder and you thanked the bright sun for still shining low in the sky. The last thing you needed was to come upon an enemy trap in the dark. Just when you decided to turn around and return to the camp, you heard a twig break underfoot.

You whirled, drawing your weapon and holding it roughly to the throat in front of you.

“Woah, (Y/N), it’s me!”

You huffed out a breath. “Kili! What in Mahal’s name are you doing out here? I could have killed you!” You smacked the back of his head, sending his hair flying around his face. You returned your dagger to your holster and bent to the river, wetting your hands in the cold stream and rubbing your face and the back of your neck. Your heart was pounding.

“I didn’t meant to scare you,” Kili said.

“Well, you did!” you laughed, letting your hair fall back on your wet neck. You squinted at Kili. He was watching you closely. Staring, really. “Is your brother with you? You shouldn’t be out here alone.”

“Neither should you.”

You chuckled and shrugged. He was right.

“Why are you? Out here, I mean,” he asked.

You bit your tongue. You were sure if you told him the truth he would tell Fili and neither of them would ever let it go. You’d be the joke of the company and then the whole of Erebor. You stared at the calm water. “I, uh… I came to bathe. But it’s getting dark now so… Why are you out here?”

“To meet you.”

You turned to him. He could barely meet your eyes. His hands were glued behind his back and you could see his chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. You had never seen him like this before. “How did you know I’d be out here?”

“Because I wrote the note.”

“You?” Your mind caught up with the events of the day, the little hints that you should have picked up on. Your chest swelled. He had feelings for you? He was the one who always comforted you, made you laugh, helped you with your work. Was it out of more than just friendship? Your mind flashed back to the note. You stared at him, and a sudden yearning flooded you- you wished to hear his voice say that word to you aloud.

“You wrote the note?” you breathed. “You fixed my pack? And-and my dagger?”

He nodded.

You laughed. He was always making you laugh…

Then everything turned sour. The smile was wiped from your face and you backed away. “This is one of your jokes, isn’t it? That’s really nice. Pick on the dam of the company, play with her feelings. Nice, Kili!” You bent, grabbing a rock in your hand. You threw it at him but he dodged it. You turned on your heel and started for the camp, ignoring his calls to you.

You pushed down the tears that threatened to gather in your rage filled eyes. You heard twigs snapping and rocks sliding against boots as Kili caught up with you. “(Y/N), wait!” He landed in front of you, holding your cheeks. “Wait.” His voice was soft and tender as if he were comforting a child. “You’re wrong, (Y/N).”

“Don’t patronize me.” You swatted his hands away and got around him, but he pulled on your waist with a strong grip.

He pushed your hair from your eyes. “I’m not trying to. I’d never joke about this, I’d never lie to you. You know that.” His voice died away as he ran his fingers through your hair. You placed trembling fingers on his waist and he continued with a smile twitching at his lips. “What I said in the note was true. I’d do anything for you. I’m surprised you haven’t heard Fili teasing me about it all along. He says if you wanted it, I’d find a way to move mountains for you.”

You tilted your head, a smile slowly growing. “I’ve heard him say that before. I just didn’t know…”

“That he was talking about you.” His fingers trailed down your arms and lifted your hands to his mouth. He kissed your fingers and spoke into them. “I shouldn’t have left that note. I should have just told you from the start. But there’s no privacy in the company! Ever!”

“I know!” You laughed. You knew too well the lack of privacy that came with this quest. “I had no idea who could have left such a note so my mind went straight to Azog. I thought it was a trap!” He laughed at you, his smile was bright and reaching his eyes. “I-I didn’t know.”

“You have no idea how much I care about you, do you amrâlimê?”

Your gaze fell to the ground and you felt heat rise to your neck. Your eyes blew wide when he lifted your chin and held it gently in his fingers.

“You really don’t notice how happy you make me? How I can’t keep my eyes off you? I sit next to you every evening at dinner and set my bedroll next to yours. Any duties or work that will take you away from me, I make sure it’s already done so I can spend as much time as possible with you.”

Your lips were parted in awe. He glanced down to them and your tongue darted out before they broke out into a lopsided grin. “I-I thought you were being nice.”

“Mahal, (Y/N). You’re the smartest dam I know, but you are dense sometimes!”

You smacked him, laughing.

“The whole company knows,” he said. “Thorin told me just last evening you were too good for me and that you’d never say yes.”

“Say yes to what?”

He had been speaking too quickly for his mind to keep up. He froze now, his voice soft as a mouse. “To courting. Me. To courting me. I was going to ask you.”

You bit your lip. “Oh, well, he’s wrong.”

“Who?”

“Thorin. If you asked me to court you, I’d definitely say yes.”

“I’m asking you,” he said.

“I’m saying yes.”

You barely finished your sentence. He kissed you fiercely, stealing your breath. He was holding you so tightly around your waist your toes were off the ground. You squealed and laughed into his mouth and he put you down, breathing heavily, with the widest smile you’d ever seen on his face.

“Sorry, I got excited.”

You giggled and gently pulled his lips down to yours again. A proper, passionate kiss. “I got excited too.”

#kili #kili x reader #kili fluff #fluff #the hobbit #the hobbit fanfiction #the hobbit fic #the hobbit fanfic #lotr #lotr fic #the hobbit fandom #lotr fandom #lotr fanfic #lotr fanfiction #kili angst #angst #aidan turner

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pomegranate-belle · 5 years ago

Note

happy new year! for the prompt game thing: mattfoggy, soulmates!au, fake dating, prompt 19? 😂

Fake Dating + Soulmates AU = Fake Soulmates AU, right?? Right?? Anyway this took too long because it spiraled out of control and now it’s 2k+ words and there’s like four or five more snippets of future scenes in this AU hiding in my notes app now, lmao

(Also, apologies to anyone reading this who’s named Stephanie, lol)

—

It all starts because Matt is a flirty bastard who gravitates towards women that are capital-T Trouble like a child in galoshes gravitates towards puddles. That is — eagerly, enthusiastically, and with precisely zero regard for the people in the splash zone.

Foggy, who has become a permanent resident of the splash zone, is best friends with him anyway, for some unfathomable reason.

Which is a mean thing to think. It’s not unfathomable. Matt is funny and whip-smart and a big nerd and he just gets Foggy, and his smile...

Anyway, life in the splash zone is worth it. Just, you know, it’s hard to remember that after your bestie’s date steals your wallet or gets you sexiled or stuck in the middle of a bar fight that is definitely not your fault. Or, apparently, tries to swap out the non-accessible petition form your (blind, by the way) best friend means to sign with a marriage certificate.

Yeah. Really. That’s the level of what-the-fuckery they’ve reached now.

“I think I need your help with this one,” Matt says with a grimace.

“You didn’t actually end up signing it, did you?” asks Foggy, because, well, with their luck who knows.

But Matt shakes his head.

“No, it’s just. Uh... I, um, don’t think she’s going to stop.”

Maybe Foggy should just smother himself with his pillow. Or smother Matt with his pillow. The second one seems like it would solve a lot more problems, since this mess is entirely Matt’s fault.

“And what, exactly, do you expect me to do about that, Matthew!” he demands. “You’re the one who decided to sleep with Stephanie Jenkins even after I warned you about her crazy eyes!”

“And I’m sorry I didn’t believe you, ok? You told me so, is that what you want to hear?” Matt all but whines, burying his face in his arms just enough to leave his eyes peeking out.

He’s on his bed, head towards the footboard and rolled onto his stomach for maximum cuteness. His eyes aren’t quite pointed the right direction, but that hardly matters. Matt’s pleading expressions are more effective even when they’re aimed a little right of their target than anybody else’s could be from straight on.

“Ugh.”

“Foggy, come on.”

“Ughhhhh.”

“Foggy.”

Matt’s big, wide sad-puppy-dog eyes get impossibly bigger and wider.

“Ok, ok! Fine, I’ll help! Stop pouting, jeez,” Foggy concedes in the face of Matt’s pleading expression and general air of hopelessness. “But don’t expect me to come up with a plan or anything, she’s yourcreepy hookup.”

Matt’s posture changes immediately now that he’s gotten what he wants. He goes up on his elbows, grinning the grin that always means chaos is coming.

“Gotta pull out the big guns for this one,” he claims. “Even she’d have to back off over a soulmate match.”

Foggy, who has maybe spent the past year and a half idly checking his skin for a mark that could potentially tie him to Matt, feels his stomach flip uncomfortably.

“You’re not suggesting...” His throat goes dry. “You and I fake being...”

“Well, I need someone in on it with me who won’t get the wrong idea,” explains Matt, cheerful as can be while he crushes Foggy’s stupid heart into tiny little pieces.

Foggy swallows hard.

“Yeah, um. Makes sense,” he croaks out.

“Good,” says Matt, all business, sitting up fully and holding out a box. “I already borrowed some temporary tattoo pens off Marci, and she promised to keep our secret if we buy her drinks next weekend.”

“Why does Marci have temporary tattoo pens?” asks Foggy as he gets up off his own bed and accepts them, since it seems like the most innocuous of all the questions rattling around in his head.

“To take notes on her arms, apparently,” Matt replies.

“Yeah, that tracks.”

Marci’s the kind of person who could get away with slightly-eccentric behavior like that, mostly because she was dead terrifying. And also hot. She was the kind of person people wanted to step on them. Not that Foggy did. Or anything.

“Anyway,” Foggy said, maybe a little too loud, clearing his throat. “Where is it you want your soulmark, then?”

“Umm.” Matt tilts his head. “My... Arm, I guess? Isn’t that the best place to make it visible for Stephanie? I mean. Where did you think I wanted it, my butt?”

As Matt asks the question, his ears go a little pink, which offsets his sarcasm and is also hilariously adorable. Matt’s a cool guy, but he also spent like ten years surrounded by nuns, and every so often that becomes very, very clear. It’s definitely one of Foggy’s favorite things about Matt. Well, along with literally everything else about Matt. He grins.

“No offense, buddy, but you definitely are the kind of person who’d have one on your butt.”

“I am not!” laughs Matt. “What does that, what does that even mean?”

“Listen, Murdock, some people are just butt-soulmark people, that’s all. Nothing to be ashamed of.”

“Shut up,” Matt says, his voice still bright with humor. “It’s going on my arm.”

He shoves up the sleeve of his slightly-baggy sweater and holds out his right arm, palm up. So, Foggy digs around in the box of temporary tattoo pens until he finds one with black ink, and then settles next to Matt on the bed. Once he’s got himself in a good position, he accepts Matt’s arm, grabs it gently by the wrist to draw it down onto his lap.

And it’s like it finally sinks in, what he’s about to do. He’s going to literally mark Matt Murdock as his — never mind that it’s a farce to get rid of some creepy chick, or what Matt said about not getting the wrong idea. In a very real and physical sense, he’s about to draw something that will bind them together, at least in everyone else’s eyes. This goes way beyond bar napkin doodles, beyond wistful musings about Nelson and Murdock. People are going to see this mark and know—

They’re going to know what Foggy’s been trying not to know for a long time now. That he’s hopelessly, irrevocably, pathetically in love with Matt.

“What should it be?” Foggy asks, heart thundering in his chest as he holds the pen in one hand and the soft, pale expanse of Matt’s upturned arm in the other.

The smile on Matt’s face looks sweet and coy. A knock-out punch disguised as a cool, sweet drink. And as much as he pretends he’s a beer and cheap whiskey man, Foggy’s always been a sucker for the kind of fruity cocktails that knock him on his ass.

“Something fitting.”

“Gee, why didn’t I think of that,” mutters Foggy. “Speak now or I’m giving you an avocado.”

Matt tries halfheartedly to tug his arm away, laughing.

“No way, not an avocado. Something serious! Like... Scales of justice.”

“I see your hard-on for Lady Justice hasn’t diminished at all,” Foggy jokes, but begins drawing the scales anyway.

It takes enough focus that he’s able to override any feelings of embarrassment. And then he’s scrawling the same design onto his own skin, his left arm and Matt’s right pressed side-by-side as they lie across Foggy’s knee. Finally, it’s done and he caps the pen.

“Perfect,” he says, pleased, as he compares the two marks. “They’re identical. Suck on that, Mr. Trenkamp, I can too draw straight lines.”

Is it the height of maturity to invoke your hated fourth grade art teacher like ten years after he first insulted your mediocre art skills? No. But being the height of maturity is lame anyway, Foggy decides.

“I’ll have to take your word for it,” jokes Matt, and his expression is so soft that Foggy has to look away before he, like, spontaneously combusts or something.

“Well, trust me, pal, those are some primo fake soulmarks.”

“Thanks, Fog.”

Matt nudges Foggy’s shoulder with his own, then holds out a loose fist. Knocking their knuckles lightly together, Foggy can’t help the giddy smile on his face.

“Anytime, Matt.”

—

They don’t get a chance to show off their marks until two days later, when they’re strolling across campus towards the dining hall and Matt pauses apropos of nothing and rolls up his sleeves to his elbows, juggling his white cane a little in the process. He then proceeds to fumble for Foggy’s wrists and roll his sleeves up too.

“Matt, what—”

“Shh, act natural!” Matt mutters, knocking his cane lightly against Foggy’s shoe, and then pressing a warm hand to his back to get him walking again.

And, honest to god, not a minute later up walks Stephanie Jenkins. Foggy takes a good moment to consider that maybe Matt’s lady-radar is actually real. In the next, Matt is stretching his arms (and his cane, the goof) above his head, right wrist crossed in front of the left so his fake soulmark will be in sight. Stephanie jerks to a stop, eyes trained on it. After the stretch, for which Foggy very carefully avoids looking at Matt to see if his shirt rides up, Matt folds up his cane and holds out his hand, fingers curled slightly, the way he usually does when he’s asking for Foggy’s arm for guiding purposes.

“Fogs?”

Well, it’s a cue if Foggy’s ever seen one, so he presses his arm into Matt’s grip, making sure the underside of his forearm is turned up for Stephanie’s sake. Her eyes go huge. Foggy gets the feeling that, no matter what he’s trying to save Matt from, he’s going to feel like an asshole if she cries. Thankfully, her face turns puce and angry instead. She’s probably thinking something unflattering about Foggy’s suitability for a guy like Matt but, well. Fuck her anyway.

Just to nail in his point, apparently, Matt traces his free hand up Foggy’s shoulder and into his hair, brushing a long lock of it behind his ear before pressing a kiss to his cheek.

In all honesty, Foggy pretty much forgets all about Stephanie Jenkins after that. Just continues on towards the dining hall, narrating on autopilot in between long bouts of staring at Matt with a racing heart and pathetic cow eyes.

—

The two of them get a frankly embarrassing number of ‘I knew it’s from their classmates, go nearly broke keeping Marci Stahl in vodka, and kiss four more times (three on the cheek, and one chaste, close-mouthed peck on the lips that nearly stops Foggy’s heart).

Also, Foggy gets Stephanie Jenkins’ crazy-eyes glare for three straight weeks. He loves every second of it. Suck it, Stephanie Jenkins, he thinks every time. Which is, yeah, probably a little mean, but hey, this is the lady who tried to take advantage of Matt’s blindness to trick him into (admittedly, a definitely not legally enforceable) marriage. Foggy doesn’t have an ounce of sympathy for her.

Though he risks jinxing himself, Foggy does eventually ask how long Matt thinks the ruse should go on. When Matt decides they should keep up the act until at least the end of the semester, Foggy tries not to agree too eagerly. After all, he’s not supposed to get the wrong idea. Eventually Matt’s heartbreaker ways will win out and he’ll want to find a hot girl to kiss. He’s trusting Foggy with an awful lot, but it doesn’t mean he’s going to... To, you know, fall in love with him or anything. But they’ll still always be best friends. That’s what really matters.

—

After three months, Foggy is used to seeing the fake soulmark on the inside of his left arm when he showers. It doesn’t make his heart squeeze anymore. He no longer has to remind himself that it’s still fake even when soap doesn’t wash it away — all it would take is a little makeup remover, after all. He knows that. It’s fake even though it’s there in a form of semi-permanence. Just another fact of life.

But this particular morning he stops cold, because there’s something on the inside of his right arm too. A perfect, identical mirror image of the scales of justice on his left.

Maybe he was so tired he drew another one on the wrong arm when refreshing the fake soulmark. Maybe. But probably not. Foggy takes slow, deep breaths until the end of his shower. Then he dries off, dresses — pulling on his shirt with the sleeves rolled all the way down — and hurries back to the dorm room for the box of makeup remover wipes they keep next to their sink now.

It’s fine, he tells himself. It’ll wash off. It’s ok. His hands are trembling so hard that he has to squeeze the wipe to keep hold of it and some of the remover solution drips onto his left arm. The fake soulmark there begins to smudge.

The one on the right stays stark and perfect.

“That’s not funny,” Foggy tells it, voice shaking, but though he scrubs at it until the skin’s raw — with the wipe, with hand sanitizer, with isopropyl — it doesn’t come off.

Eventually he’s got to face the facts. His dumb heart has somehow conned his body into producing a genuine, grade-A soulmark for his fake soulmate.

He is so monumentally fucked.

#mattfoggy #writing #thanks for the ask!#ellicelluella

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foxtophat · 5 years ago

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just so you know this chapter is almost 10k words

SO HEY THERE BUDDY how are you? it’s been a while, huh? i thought for sure i had this chapter well in hand and then all at once i didn’t, now i’m a week behind my usual posting schedule and all i have to offer you is this fucking MONSTER

i don’t wanna get too into it because it’s pretty straight-forward, but let’s just say that nick and kim have a host of problems in this one bro. good thing that jerome is a guy who likes to be righteously better than everyone else right???

i had a lot of fun writing this despite how much trouble it was. the next chapter is gonna be more fun, with maybe even some alcohol and dare i even suggest it dancing??? perhaps... a good time???? highly unlikely in this day and age

well anyway, don’t wanna keep you any longer. thank you guys so much for reading my incoherent author’s notes and being so chill about this dumb self-indulgent fic of mine. i appreciate every comment, like, reblog, kudos or warm thought thrown my way, so don’t hesitate to lay it on me!!

as usual, the text is under the read-more. keep in mind that this chapter is very long so it might be better to read on ao3, but who am i to boss you around?

Pastor Jerome radios the Rye family late one night, so late that Nick had been just about to turn off the receiver when his voice comes down the line. Exhaustion has left a permanent mark on everybody, and Nick doesn't miss it in Jerome as they connect over the airwaves.

"A caravan is going to be passing through the valley tomorrow," he says grimly, with no preamble. "People heading west. There was talk of stopping by your home."

"What?" Nick asks. "Why?"

"People still look to your family for guidance, Nick. I imagine they want to say goodbye before they leave. Others are looking to trade, or just to reach out. It's been a long time. I suppose they'd want to leave on a positive note."

A year ago, Nick would have been excited for the company. Knowing a bunch of friendly settlers were coming around to say hello and help out before heading off on their own would have saved him plenty of pain and trouble in the past. But these days, other people coming around can be... complicated, and for reasons that Nick has trouble explaining even to himself.

That's probably the reason Jerome decided to reach out so late. They only got to talk briefly about it in town, since there were too many people to overhear them and honestly, Jerome hadn't seemed keen on having a conversation about John Seed almost a decade after the fact. But they had talked, enough that Jerome has trusted Nick to do what's best without interference until now.

"What do you think I should do?" Nick asks, sure that Jerome will know what he's talking about.

There's a lot of hissing and popping on the line before Jerome responds. "I don't know," he says. It sounds like an apology. "I can't imagine being in the position you're in."

Nick scrubs at his eyes, leaning back in his chair. He clicks the button to let Jerome know he's still there, but it takes a moment to come up with something to say.

"Do I know anyone coming through?" he asks at last.

"You will," Jerome replies. "If not by name, then by face. Hurk and Sharky have offered to escort them part-way. There are some resistance members who want to leave. A few who look like they might've gotten through baptism before the end."

Nick clicks his tongue against his teeth. That's what he was worried about. A couple of survivors who have let eight years rot their hatred would be okay. Hurk and Sharky aren't even that threatening, lawless raider shit aside. But former cultists are going to clock John immediately, and there's no clean way to explain that it isn't the Ryes who betrayed them, but actually John, who's abandoned the very principles that led him to cause so much suffering. Nick's almost okay with the guy, and even he occasionally feels a twinge of fury when he catches sight of the huge scar over his heart.

"Are you sure you know what doing?" Jerome asks. " Really sure?"

Nick chuckles. "Hell, Jerome, I've never known what I'm doing. But, uh... yeah. More than I was when we talked, anyway."

"Even with Joseph's reappearance?"

"Weirdly enough, especially 'cos of that. I know I'm askin' a lot of you, but you gotta trust me."

There's no chance that Jerome really means it when he says, "I do trust you, Nick," but at least he's committed to the lie. "If I can, I'll join them. Try to help keep the peace, when the time comes."

"If the time comes."

Jerome sounds disappointed. "You said you weren't hiding him."

"And we aren't!"

"You can't honestly expect everyone to take the news well."

"A man can hope, can't he?"

"That's about all he can do," Jerome replies. "I'll pray for you, Nick."

"Gee," Nick sighs, "Thanks. See you tomorrow, hopefully."

Nick turns off the radio. He stretches his arms out, as if maybe relieving his sore back will make him feel less tense and anxious about Jerome's news. Of course, it doesn't really help; there's still a caravan passing through tomorrow, and there's going to be some kind of reckoning when it shows up. Nick doesn't know what kind of fallout is going to come from it, but he knows well enough not to hope for the easiest outcome.

Carmina is already asleep when Nick comes up, sprawled out on the edge of the bed. It's not gonna be long now before she starts kicking them through the night, and then they're going to have to figure out a new sleeping arrangement, but Carmina seems as uninterested in changing things as Nick is.

"Just got off the radio with Jerome," Nick tells Kim, keeping his voice low and level so as not to alert Carmina. "Wanted to tell us about a caravan passing by tomorrow."

Kim frowns. "Oh," she says uneasily. "Have you told John?"

"Nah. Gonna wait until the morning. Don't want him trying to bolt in the night."

Even though neither of them think John is going to try to run away, Kim still nods in agreement. "What are we going to do?" she asks instead. It's funny, because he'd been about to ask her the same thing.

"Hell if I know," Nick sighs. He climbs into bed at last, Kim moving over to take the center of the mattress. "But I'll come up with something."

Nick doesn't come up with anything all night. By the time morning rolls around, he's had more ideas than sleep and none of them are anywhere near perfect. They all come down to deciding whether or not John should face the parade of people about to come to their door or not, and he is evenly split on the matter. After all, it could be fine; there could be some yelling and some drama; or there could be a full-on fire-fight. There's a not-outside chance that someone might shoot John before they have a chance to explain themselves. There's a chance that they might shoot Nick, too, for harboring him this whole time.

He knocks on John's door right around sunrise, waiting long enough that he almost knocks again before John grunts something incoherent from the other side of the door. He looks like Nick just woke him out of a relatively good dream, too, which is particularly bad luck. Well, John wanted to pay some kind of penance for his bullshit, right? Might as well start now.

"Sorry," Nick says, even though he's only sort of apologetic. "We, uh... have a problem."

"Oh, good," John groans, sitting up and putting his feet on the floor. "Just the sort of thing I like to hear."

Normally, Nick would be glad for a distracting snappy argument over John's attitude, but he doesn't know exactly how much time they're going to have to get ready and Nick doesn't know if anyone's going to radio him ahead of time. John being a catty dick first thing in the morning is the least of Nick's problems right now.

"Look, Jerome radioed in last night. A caravan's gonna pass by on their way out of Hope County."

John's bleary irritation evaporates at the words. "Oh," he says.

"Yeah, oh . You still wanna get back to your beauty sleep?"

"What am I going to do?" John exclaims, lurching halfway to his feet before thinking better of it and sitting back down. He looks up at Nick, who isn't prepared to feel like the only responsible adult in the room, and asks helplessly, "What should I do?"

For once, John's stressed-induced obedience seems reasonable, trying to show restraint instead of hoping for Nick to feed him instructions like some kind of machine.

"You... have a plan, don't you?" he asks.

"I have plenty of plans," Nick replies. "Problem is, they all suck. I guess we could set you up somewhere for the night, so nobody finds you... or, well, we don't. The caravan's mostly leaving for good, but not all of 'em are gonna stay gone, and if they find out I lied to their faces..."

Nick chews on his cheek to keep from rambling on, but the truth is that he doesn't want to lie if he can help it. It wouldn't be right.

"If I stay, they'll kill me," John counters, pretty compellingly all things considered.

"That... might happen, yeah," Nick admits reluctantly. "I mean, not if I can help it, but I don't know what kind of people are gonna show up. Maybe they're the reasonable type."

Sighing heavily, John scrubs a hand heavily over his eyes. Nick is weirdly reminded of Kim in the middle of an argument about classic movie plot points. "I think you overestimate the average person."

"Hey, I'm an average person, and I take offense to that."

John scowls at Nick for a moment, and Nick is again reminded of Kim mid-argument. "No, Nick. You're not."

Nick... doesn't know how to respond to that. "Uh, okay, well," he says, stalling out.

John runs his hand from his eyes back through his hair. "Whatever you think is best," John says at last. He almost doesn't seem to realize it when he says, "I trust you."

"Oh," Nick says. He wants to say more, probably should say more, but he can't think of anything to say. "Well, uh, that's good, I guess. I could still use your help, uh, figuring out the logistics." He points his thumb back over his shoulder and asks, "You, uh, want some coffee? 'Cos I need some."

John huffs. "Yeah," he sighs, knowing full well that he doesn't have much of a choice. "Sure."

It's obvious from the beginning that hiding John isn't going to work. Nick word-vomits about how uncomfortable the idea makes him for a solid two minutes, only to receive a few short agreements from John that are barely better than noncommittal grunts. From the start, John is nervous and uncomfortable, the coffee doing nothing to ease his anxious jitters, but at least Nick can talk out a plan with him without feeling like he's hurling words at a brick wall.

By the time the sun has reached vaguely nine-AM, they've decided that they can't simply drop the news like a bomb, and they know that John is going to hide out in the hangar until Nick decides it's time to fess up. It's a bare-bones plan that has no consideration for logistics, but at least when Kim wakes up, they'll have something to offer other than worryingly asking for her help.

Kim comes downstairs without Carmina, who's probably happy to sleep in for another half-hour or so before the sun nails her in the face and forces her out of bed for good. Kim looks like she barely slept, but she smiles warmly at Nick when she sees him, and groans thankfully when he gets up to get her a cup of coffee.

"So," she asks after she gets a cup of coffee, "What's the plan?"

Nick wouldn't call it a "plan" so much as a "vague idea," but he explains the thought-process anyway. John, who has already heard everything Nick has to say about stowing John away until the "right time" occurs, excuses himself with some half-assed excuse about cleaning the fire pit, ducking out back to probably pace around until he collapses under his own discomfort. Nick can't blame him, really; they're hanging his entire life on the end of a branch labeled "going with Nick's gut," after all.

"What exactly is going to make it the right time ?" Kim asks.

"Well... I guess once we know everyone is here. After we figure out just how badly they might react. If they're real aggressive about it, we can always just... wait until Sharky and Hurk come back, and tell them."

"Yeah, I don't think either of them are going to be happy to know we hid John from them." She sighs, adding reluctantly, "I guess it's a good back-up plan. In case things go really badly from the start."

"God," Nick sighs, draining his cup of coffee, "I hope this doesn't blow up in our faces."

There are footsteps on the front porch, followed by a knock on the door. The two of them freeze, staring at the door for a hot minute until a recognizable voice calls from the other side: "Nick? Kim?"

"Jerome?" Nick calls, pushing himself up from his seat and heading to the door.

At first, he only opens the door a crack, enough to check that Jerome is on his own. When he's pretty sure the caravan as a whole hasn't shown up, he opens the door wide enough to block the entrance with his body.

"What are you doing here?" Nick asks. "The caravan can't be coming through already."

"No," Jerome replies. He looks winded, sweaty and dirty from what looks like a long walk. Nick hopes he didn't come all the way from town by himself on foot — that's more risk than it's worth, with all the wild animals out there. "They won't be here for hours yet. But I... I couldn't sleep. I had to get here before them."

"Jesus, why ?"

It takes Jerome a moment to find the words, but as soon as he gathers the strength, he blurts them out before he loses his nerve. "There has to be something I can do to convince you not to throw everything away like this. Your family has been vital to the county, and I cannot let you ruin your lives when we need to stay together the most ! You're going to turn everyone against you! A monster like John Seed as no right , asking you to risk your family like this!"

Jerome looks to Nick for some kind of reaction, deflating when he doesn't see what he wants. "He cannot be worth it," he finishes miserably.

"Hey, now," Nick says, unable to help sounding offended. He hopes Jerome doesn't take it the wrong way, but from the scandalized look on his face, he most certainly has. "I know what I'm doing, okay?" he amends, feeling a little bad for lying.

A hand touches his back, and so Nick opens the door wide to accommodate Kim standing next to him. "Jerome," she says gently, as though she hadn't heard his outburst a moment ago, "Why don't you come in and have some coffee?"

"This isn't a social visit," he says, startled.

"You can still have a cup of coffee," Kim replies, nudging Nick out of the way. "Come in so we can talk."

Kim takes point from there, leaving Nick to shut the door while she brings Jerome to the table and has him sit, coffee already poured for him. With the living room cleaned up and Jerome sitting at close to his usual spot at the table, Nick finds himself transported backward in time. For a second, maybe even less than that, Nick can see the house the way it used to be — the way it might've been, if maybe they had been less wrapped up in the cult bullshit and more worried about the disquieting news coming in from outside their small ecosystem.

The moment passes, and Nick is still in this uncomfortable situation with a house that's falling down around him. Figures that he can't enjoy the fantasy for even a moment.

Nick mostly keeps to himself, hovering near the support beam while Kim does her best to explain the situation with John to an increasingly upset-looking Jerome. She rehashes the stuff he already knows, about how Nick found him, and the ultimatum that's kept him sheltered and fed for more than half a year now. She even mentions some of the work John's done for them, although she doesn't go into much detail. After all, not many people are going to be impressed by John sorting nails and repairing fences.

What she does focus on is John's reaction to their demands. The way he'd agree to anything, working himself well past the point of exhaustion, falling into mute obedience — Kim tells Jerome everything, listing his strange, unsettling habits like a worried mother talking to a pediatrician. He doesn't sleep. He talks to himself, struggles to focus past the things that have consumed his mind. She's worried about it, and what it means about his time underground. She's seen how people break. Despite everything, she thinks he sincerely is trying, but he won't open up and she can't help but worry that it might cause more problems down the line.

Nick doesn't know how comfortable he can be, listening to Kim discuss John's progress like a teacher talking about a troubled student. He manages to stick it out for a few minutes, but when Kim starts talking about Joseph, and the trembling wreck his appearance had turned John into, he finds himself making a measured retreat for the backyard. Somebody ought to tell John that Jerome has come by, right? And that somebody might as well be Nick, who can't stand to hear Kim worry about John goddamn Seed for another minute.

There isn't much to do in the backyard. Most of the fence is in place by now, and the debris has been pulled around back of the hangar, leaving the yard an empty wash of dirt tamped down by their daily movement. Even the fire pit has been cleaned up, thanks to Carmina taking her chores seriously yesterday. If John had come out here to try and find something to distract him, he's going to be hard-pressed.

For his part, John has taken up a spot by the planters. Kim and Carmina have planted some soy beans in the second planter, but they haven't taken off yet and none of them are sure they will. In the meantime, John plucks out some errant weeds, careful not to disturb the few sprouts that seem to have taken root.

"Hey," Nick says.

John barely looks Nick's way at the greeting. "I thought I heard something," he says instead, which at the very least saves Nick an awkward segue.

"Uh, yeah." He scratches the back of his head. "Jerome's just inside. I thought you'd want a head's up. The caravan shouldn't be here for a while, though. A couple of hours, anyway."

John swallows heavily. "That isn't much time."

Nick nods, looking around the backyard to avoid long eye-contact with John. "Not like we'd have anything to do if it were further away," he points out. "Things here are about as good as they're gonna get."

"It won't be enough." John fixes Nick with a dark look, one that reminds Nick that John's list of past transgressions is miles-long. "This isn't going to be enough for them."

"I guess you'd be the expert on repentance, huh?" Nick knows it's kind of a dig, but at least that ugly look on John's face is replaced by one that's more simply offended. "Look, I know you don't think we... punish you enough around here or whatever, but..."

"Don't say it like that ," John groans miserably.

"Hey, the point stands whether or not I say it! Just — trust us, okay?"

John shakes his head. He doesn't seem willing to admit to it again again, but that's okay. Nick knows he's got John's trust, even if it's been given mostly against John's better judgment. Considering this is the same guy who thinks Nick should have left a few prominent scars to convince strangers of his atonement, maybe Nick doesn't care so much about his judgment here.

"They won't be satisfied," John mutters.

"Maybe that's just your dissatisfaction talking. Most everyone around here are good, decent people, even after everything they've been through. Anyone who thinks we didn't beat you enough is better off getting the hell out of my county. We don't have time for that kind of shit around here."

John is quiet for a bit after Nick's outburst. Nick's not surprised, since John seems incapable of understanding Nick's pacifism, but at least he isn't immediately refuting everything on principle alone anymore.

"I need it to be enough," John finally says hoarsely. "I can't have all of this be for nothing. I can't ."

For once, Nick doesn't bother to stop his knee-jerk reassurances — John looks like he could probably use them. "Even if nobody else is convinced, uh... you should know, we do believe you. Sort of," he clarifies hastily as John casts a horrified look at him, "At least, I don't think you're bullshitting me right now."

John swallows thickly and nods. Words don't seem part of his acceptance, but that's all right, Nick doesn't need them.

The back porch creaks unhappily behind Nick, who turns to find Kim and Jerome standing there. John sees them too, half-rising to his feet before seeming to think better of it and sitting heavily back down on the planter.

"John," Jerome says. He doesn't sound happy, but at least he doesn't sound like he's about to chuck a Molotov in John's face.

"...Pastor Jerome," John responds, looking nauseous.

Jerome steps off of the porch. "We have some things to discuss."

Instinctively, John's hand reaches up, as if to stop Nick from abandoning him, but he aborts the gesture quickly, digging his fingers into the tire treads instead.

"...You're right," John admits. Even though he isn't trying to stop Nick from leaving physically, he looks like he absolutely does not want to be alone around Jerome. Unfortunately, Jerome's expression tells Nick that whatever words he has to share with John, they are private, and they're just going to make Nick wish he'd never heard them.

"It's gonna be fine," Nick tells him. He mostly believes it, too.

The front of the house has mostly been left to rot, which had been fine when Nick wasn't expecting a half-dozen cars to show up in his drive. With John and Jerome busy out back and Kim getting Carmina prepared for company, Nick is left alone to clean up the tumbleweeds that have made their home against the dilapidated remains of chain-link fencing. He could probably leave it — after all, nobody is expecting perfection these days — but somehow he can't bring himself to leave a poor first impression. What John said must have gotten to him, because here he is, looking over a patch of dirt and trying to see how he can make it seem like enough . Proof that he knew what he was doing when he saved John, proof that he knows what he's doing now, trusting the guy with his reputation and that of his family.

Unfortunately, there's not much to save in the front yard, and Nick's bottle of weed-killer is six-years expired and empty to boot. They're all just going to have to work with what they've got.

Carmina comes out at some point to help, mostly by distracting Nick with lots of questions. Are there going to be kids coming? Is Grace going to show up too? Can she trade The Wizard of Oz for another book? Will they mind that John is here? Shouldn't he be hiding? What if Grace does show up, too? Is she going to be okay?

"Honey, I don't know," Nick replies to most of it. Thankfully, he taught her early on that adults saying "I don't know" is actually a good thing — mostly because Nick says it too much to have his daughter think he's being dumb.

"All I know is that we're gonna do our best to be hospitable," he clarifies, because that's a lesson Carmina still hasn't learned anything about. "This is the first big caravan of the year. People are gonna be passing through a lot more as things get back to normal, and they'll always be a grab-bag. Uh, that means it'll be a surprise, what kinda people will come through."

"So there could be kids?" Carmina asks hopefully.

"Sure," Nick smiles. "Kids, dogs, friendly old ladies who'll pinch your cheeks too hard. All sorts of people. But this one is... extra important, you know?"

"Because of John?" Carmina asks. "That's what mom said."

Nick sighs. "Yep," he says, "Because of John." Maybe that's a little harsh, but it's true. Still, Nick tries to sound less exasperated when he continues. "Some of the people coming through probably won't be happy to see him. That's why Pastor Jerome is talking to him now — to see if he can help."

"I thought Jerome didn't like John," Carmina replies.

"Nobody likes John," Nick clarifies. "That doesn't mean we aren't gonna try to help him out."

" Why ? If nobody likes him..."

Nick sighs, wiping sweat from his forehead. "Because it's the right thing to do, Carmina. If somebody needs help, you oughta help them if you can. You know, even before the bombs, everyone out here relied on each other when things got tough. It might not be much, but that's one thing I'm not gonna give up on." He looks around the yard, mostly to avoid his daughter's eye-contact, but eventually, he offers her a smile. "You get it, right?"

"Sure," Carmina says, most likely not getting it at all.

It's not that much longer before the first car shows up. The dark blue sedan that rolls down their drive has heavily patched tires and a crack through the windshield, but the engine sounds plenty capable of a long drive. A mattress and a wardrobe box are strapped to the roof of the car with ropes, and the back seat is full of boxes, but Nick sure hopes they have more supplies on hand than what he sees.

"Go tell your mom," Nick tells Carmina, who nods and jogs off to warn everyone that it's show time.

Nick guides the car around a deep crack in the drive, and he's privately relieved to barely recognize either of the people in the car. The couple that climbs out is passingly familiar — Nick has a clear vision of the man at Lorna's, for some reason — and they seem excited to see Nick, but honestly, he couldn't name them if he tried.

"I sure hope Jerome sent word we were coming," the lady driving says after she dusts herself off. She's got her hair shaved up short, and a long welted scar runs from her temple to her nose. Nick remembers her, minus the scar, but he can't remember her name. Joan, maybe? Georgia? Something like that...

"That he did!" Nick offers her a friendly smile, gesturing towards the house. "We got everything all set up if you wanna make yourselves at home. Uh, he didn't tell us how many were coming, so I dunno if we got enough space, but..."

The guy, whose name Nick definitely doesn't remember, waves a hand in an attempt to ease Nick's worries. "Don't worry, it's just a couple of cars. Us, a couple guys who found a working Honda, and the Halls. They've got a big-ass truck, though, and a trailer, so they might need help with that ditch."

Kim comes around from the back before Nick needs to come up with more small talk. Pleasantly surprised as she recognizes their guests, she calls, "Julia, is that you?"

"Kim!" Julia exclaims, going in for a hug that Kim is glad to give. "It's so good to see you again!"

With the ice successfully broken and Kim taking point on hosting duties, Nick slowly feels himself start to relax back into the role himself. Julia and Clark are long-time Hope County residents, and they seem just as happy to have a brief return to normalcy as Nick is to indulge in it, so for the next few minutes, the conversation stays light and upbeat.

Clark can't give them a head-count, but he talks about the Hall family and their plan to head as far west as possible, implying the whole time that most people found the idea to be too risky to actually take on. When Carmina comes downstairs only to be disheartened by the lack of kids around, Julia is quick to reassure her that the Halls have a boy about her age. It's probably that news that keeps Carmina docile as Julia proceeds to fawn over how big she is.

Sure enough, the next car to come in is a large, beat-up F-150, the bed's sideboards painted with faded apple orchard logos. The family Clark and Julia mentioned are sitting up front in the cab, while three more people take up space in the bed. Nick helps them down the drive, careful of the small trailer they've got with them. The whole time, Carmina is waiting behind him impatiently.

Before Nick can join Kim in introducing Carmina to one of the few kids her age in the area, he's distracted by the third car rolling into the yard. The Honda is another four-door, although it looks more comfortable in the back than Julia and Clark's car, with or without the boxes. Nick catches sight of a toddler sitting on a woman's lap, which will probably bum Carmina out, but at least she can get some practice in with babies.

The headcount comes to ten people, minus kids, which is a lot less than Nick's worst fears expected. What's more, they all seem like reasonable people. The problem, though, is that Jerome definitely mentioned Hurk and Sharky tagging along, and Nick doesn't know how many people might be riding with them. Plus, they've been openly experimenting with the Mad Max raider thing, and Nick isn't 100% sure just how hard they're leaning into it. Escorting a caravan full of families with minimal weapons doesn't exactly scream cutthroat bastards , but the worry sticks to the back of Nick's mind.

Things are calm for the next hour or two. The three people who came with the truck all seem eager to keep moving at first, but they slowly relax once they're seated inside at the dinner table. With a couple of the windows unboarded and the back porch fully open, the inside of the house is filled with light. They had to get rid of the couch when they unburied it, but now Nick wishes they had more seating in here.

"The place looks great, right?" Julia asks one of the girls at the table. Neither of them have ever been here, Nick doesn't think, but they play along.

"Most of the houses collapsed," Katrina comments. She's the most jittery out of the three sitting at the table, and so far Nick only knows that she's from California and has been wanting to get back there since the bombs fell. "You guys got lucky."

"Things are way better once you get out of close-range areas like this," the girl sitting beside Katrina says. She calls herself Merit, and it's clear from her worn-out gear and her heavy goggle-lines that she's been traveling for a while. Nick wonders if she just happened upon the caravan, or if she helped put it together. "Some towns barely look any different."

"It took a lot of hard work to clean it up," Nick offers awkwardly. "You should've seen how much dirt we had to move."

It's weird, taking credit for John's work. Nick takes an immediate dislike to it. He would look to the third person at the table, a gruff and quiet man named Everett, for some kind of distraction, but the guy doesn't seem interested in conversation.

"You think Helena is going to be better than this?" Katrina asks Merit.

"Oh, hell yeah," she says.

As soon as Merit launches into hypothesizing what the next towns might be like, Nick makes a quick exit for the back porch. Carmina and the Hall kid — Liam, Nick's pretty sure — are drawing big shapes out in the dirt with sticks, gossiping as best they can without any daycare socialization to help them. Kim seems satisfied with it, anyway — enough that she can dedicate most of her focus on trading gardening tips and general life-hacks with the two other mothers in the group. Jerome rejoins the group for a few minutes, but after he drifts briefly through the conversations, he seems to disappear again. Nick isn't sure if that's a good sign or not, but he's gonna have to trust himself while he flies blind for a bit.

Nick doesn't know which is louder on Hurk's arrival: the three roaring motorcycle engines, or the cacophony of black metal that comes with them. It's a whole lot of presentation for three guys on some busted old Harleys, but it sure does the trick of drawing everyone's attention. By the time they rumble down the drive, everyone has congregated to the front of the house, just in time to witness an almost coordinated stop beside the truck.

The music blares from an old stereo on the back of one of the bikes, so killing the engines doesn't do anything to stop it. He doesn't take off his helmet, but Nick recognizes Hurk swearing a blue-streak as he tries to shut the music off with as little noticeable fanfare as possible.

"Party train's in town, bitches!" he hollers, as if they aren't watching him beat up a cassette player in real-time.

The two guys with Hurk take off their helmets, and Nick immediately pegs them for ex-cultists. There's something about the way they look at the house, as if the last time they saw it they were busting in the doors at John's command. One of them, nearly as big as Hurk, the only hair on his head his long, untamed beard, looks like he never quite came off the Bliss, his eyes glassy and vacant. The other fills out their stereotypical raiders unit with his wild locs and big, unhinged smile, giving off real wild-card vibes in a pack already chock full of Jokers.

Neither of them are Sharky, which is... weird. Truthfully, seeing Hurk without his cousin is a little jarring — after all, they've been together since the world ended.

Hurk must notice him looking around because he's quick to put any worries to rest. "Sharky's gonna show eventually," he says. "Likes taking the road less traveled, y'know? Since all the roads these days aren't traveled, though, he's gotta get real weird with it." He waves a hand as though swatting away a troublesome fly. "You'll hear him before you see him."

It doesn't take long for that to backfire spectacularly in Nick's face. Not three minutes later, Nick catches the distant roar of an ATV somewhere out in the trees. He isn't the only one; pretty much everybody else swivels to nervously eye the woods until Sharky's caterwauling eases their deeply ingrained flight instincts. Like before, the entire crowd migrates towards the noise, following it into the backyard.

Nick tries not to worry about it as Sharky comes up from the wrong side of the hangar. After all, Sharky's probably gonna drive right by the hangar without so much as a second glance, and anyway, Jerome is there to run interference if things go south. Sharky's mellowed out since the apocalypse — surely he'd listen to reason. Right?

It's all Nick can think about while he and Sonny Hall talk about the potential hazards on their way out. He almost convinces himself that things are going to be fine by the time the ATV engine cuts off, writing it off as nothing more than a random habit of Sharky's to park in the most inconvenient places.

There's no way to rationalize the terrible crash from the hangar, followed by Sharky's blood-curdling holler of, " What the fuck !"

Sharky himself rushes from the hanger via the utility door, practically spilling out into the dirt wash between the two buildings. He rushes towards them with his mouth agape and his face pale from shock; he pulls up short as he catches Nick visibly flailing from his discovery.

"You wanna tell me what the fuck John Seed is doing in your fucking hangar ?" he asks, voice cracking as it fails to contain all of his outrage.

Nick opens his mouth to say something, anything to ease the blow that's coming, but Hurk cuts him off at the head. "What the fuck are you talking about?" he scoffs loudly, waving a dismissive middle finger in Sharky's direction. "Do you know how fuckin' nuts you sound right now?"

Sharky's face turns beet red, fists clenching as he locks eyes with Nick for a brief, furious second before about-facing for the hangar. His betrayal and fury sting like a bitch.

"Sharky," Nick calls, but the guy is definitely not listening to him right now. He looks where Kim is standing, her hand tight on Carmina's shoulder, but she's just as lost as he is. They'd planned to segue into this, for God's sake! This isn't anywhere near what they planned!

Shit. Nick can't let Sharky be the first one to reach the hangar. He needs to get in front of this, before everyone swings into mob mentality and tears John to pieces. As he jogs in Sharky's furious wake, he can feel the group closing in behind him, fear and curiosity and utter disbelief drawing the whole goddamn posse down at once.

Sharky flings open the door and disappears into the hangar. Jerome tries to calm him down, urging him to hold on, but it does nothing to slow the guy down. Nick reaches the hangar in time for Sharky to shove John through the door, knocking him to the dirt in front of Nick's feet.

"Jesus Christ !" someone shouts from behind him. Nick just knew that haircut was going to get them into trouble — as if John's tattooed arms aren't bare and visible to the crowd.

"What the fuck is this shit!" Sharky shouts as he clears the door.

John remains on his knees, keeping his eyes fixed on the dirt beneath him. A flurry of anxious chatter goes up around Nick, who finds himself suddenly standing in a strange no man's land between John and the crowd he'd been part of just a minute before. It's a terrible feeling, watching everyone pull back from him like he's got some kind of disease or something.

Nick fumbles with the words that he wants to say, unable to have practiced for this awful scenario. "I, uh, can explain," he says.

"You'd better ," one of Hurk's riders shouts.

"Look, okay, so..."

Nick is positive they aren't going to like the truth, but it's all he has to offer them. They never got a chance to see John lying in the brush like a wasted corpse — all they see now is the end result of all of Nick and Kim's hard goddamn work, trying to find some kind of real human being under all of the rot. He never should have kept John a secret — he should have forced everybody else to look at the work the three of them have had cut out for them, and then maybe they wouldn't be looking at him like he's some kind of monster for admitting that John had just been too sick, too close to death already, for Nick to bring himself to pull the trigger.

"It wouldn't have been right to leave him there," he sighs.

"You should have put a bullet between his eyes!" Katrina shouts at him.

"Don't you think I considered that?" Nick snaps. "It was the first thing I thought!"

"Then why the fuck didn't you?"

He throws his hands up, feeling crazy for having to shout, "Because I didn't want to !" He's been thrown into some horrible alternate universe where people don't think twice about shooting first and never asking questions. "I've never wanted to kill anybody ! I didn't want to back then, and I sure as hell don't want to start murdering people now ! And I couldn't just — I needed to know how he'd survived, if maybe Dep had..."

"Don't finish that sentence," Sharky warns.

"Or what ? You think that they would've done it differently?" Nick points at John, who sits with his head bowed. "I found this sorry bastard struggling to breathe in the dirt! You tell me what Rook would've done differently if John hadn't given them a good damn reason to pull the trigger!"

"A reason ?" Sharky spits in disbelief.

" Yeah , a fucking reason! I'm not a goddamn murderer, Sharky, and that's what it would've been!" He takes a breath, desperate to keep his cool. "We gave him an ultimatum," he continues. "He could stay with us if he did everything we said, if he swore off of the cult — and he did. He has, I mean. He isn't with the Peggies, he isn't with Joseph —"

"Yeah, until that sonuvabitch shows up and takes him back!"

"Joseph can try ." Nick scowls, glancing briefly down at John, who still hasn't moved, not even to look his accusers in the eye. "C'mon, John. Tell them."

"Like I'm gonna believe a word that fucking maniac says!"

John swallows. But for whatever reason, he manages to find enough words to begin defending himself. "The Project was a mistake," he rasps. "It was a pointless endeavor from the start and somewhere inside I knew that."

Katrina surges forward as though she might burst through the crowd and personally beat John to a pulp. Merit's hand on her arm is the only thing that keeps her from doing it. "You fucking monster!" she howls.

"Yes," John replies. He doesn't look up, too scared to, but Nick knows he means it when he says, "I'm sorry."

"Fuck your apologies!"

Jerome, standing quietly in the doorway until now, steps forward. He doesn't quite kneel, but he reaches down to put a firm hand on John's shoulder. It's not a comforting gesture — if anything, Jerome is holding him in place.

"I know," John rasps. He lifts his head at last, revealing a fresh black-eye, which is no doubt Sharky's doing. It takes him a moment to find the words, but he's resigned himself to the mercy of the crowd, and he doesn't try to plead with them.

"There's no forgiveness for the things I've done. There's no... fixing it. I should have died. When Nick found me, I should have forced his hand, but I... couldn't."

"You had eight years to kill yourself," Everett points out grimly. "You should have done it then."

John swallows. "Yes," he says. "I really should have."

Nick can't help muttering an uncomfortable, " Hey ," but Jerome cuts him off just by looking at him. There's plenty of time to freak out about the suicide talk later, hopefully once John avoids being executed entirely.

"I was a coward," John says. The words come out with the force of a long-held confession. "I've always been a coward. It's why I joined Joseph when he found me and followed every word. It's why I listened to Nick when he told me to choose between being shot in the head or helping him. Everything I've ever done has been — just mindless self-preservation."

John swallows. Nick isn't sure who he's looking to, exactly, but he speaks to one person in particular as he says, "I tried to tear my sins out of you to save myself. Manual labor, mending fences — it's never going to be enough to make up for that."

"You bet it isn't," Everett says.

"You probably have enough skin for us to return the favor," Katrina says. Nick doesn't know if she's carrying a weapon or not, but he's pretty sure he'll be the only one to object if she pulls one on John now.

"Hey, now," Nick interjects, unable to help himself and absolutely unwilling to stop himself this time around. "We're better than that."

"Fuck you! You keep him around like a pet farm-hand on land that could keep us all safe and fed, forcing us to go fend for ourselves while you harbor a goddamn monster under your roof!" She points accusingly at the house. "Yeah, real nice place, you fucking traitor !"

"Who do you think we made fix everything !" Nick exclaims, throwing his arms wide. "The only reason we've got all this usable land is because of John, goddamn it! And you all want to leave. You said so yourself, you're not even from here! If you think you can just roll onto my property and act entitled to it, I'll teach you the same goddamn lesson I taught those Peggies nine years ago!"

"More like cult property," some jackass says, as though shouting something loudly enough makes it true. Nick scans the crowd for the culprit, but there are honestly too many guilty faces to choose from.

"Eden's Gate is dead," John says, as if somehow he's the person to bring reason and civility back into the conversation. "Whatever Joseph thinks he's doing now, it's a crippled organization of people more desperate than you. There aren't enough believers left to allow the Project to become a threat. Even if he wanted it, he could never take this property."

"As if I would believe you ."

"You don't have to believe me," John replies, shrugging off the disbelief. "It's true either way. I know what the Deputy did to the bunkers. The most faithful were being held there — if they weren't destroyed with the gates, then the Collapse would have left them feeling like sinners. And I know what eight years of isolation away from Joseph can do to a person's faith. He'll never have the numbers he wanted, much less the numbers he had before the Collapse."

Nick knows that most of the people standing here are never going to forgive him. They're never going to forgive John, either, and one day they might come back expecting the worst from Nick's bad decision. But at least for now, John's honesty seems true enough to reassure the best of them. Everett hasn't left to get his gun yet, anyway, and Katrina hasn't tried to burst through the crowd and flay John alive. That's something, anyway, right?

"What if you're wrong?" Sharky asks. He still looks pissed, but his arms are crossed defensively over his chest and he doesn't look willing to start a fight right now. "Not saying I believe you," he adds, just in case anyone had any doubts. "But if I did ."

John doesn't hesitate. "If I am, kill him. Of course, his followers will martyr him, so you'll have to kill them as well." He clenches his jaw for a moment, as though he doesn't want to say it, and then admits, "Anyone who would follow Joseph now has to be completely devoted to him. They'll take any outside aggression as a reason to attack. If you move on Joseph, you'll have to be willing to exterminate the whole group."

"That sounds like a whole lotta work," Hurk points out pragmatically.

"Sure sounds like you're telling us to let Joseph do whatever he wants," one of his biker pals adds. It's also a pragmatic observation, but Nick has no doubt it's meant as an accusation. "We show up here and find out John Seed is still alive, and he's telling us to just leave it alone , and you want us to believe you're not part of all of it?"

Nick doesn't realize at first that the guy is talking to him . "Are you kidding me?" Nick asks. "Are you forgetting who shot this sorry fuck out of the sky? He tried to rip the pride right outta me —"

"And yet here you are, defending him!"

"Of course I'm defending him! Nobody else is gonna do it!"

With his blood about ready to boil, it's a good thing that Kim arrives before Nick says something stupid. He's not sure when she rejoined the group, but now she cuts in front of the strangers in their home, resting a hand on his shoulder as she steps up beside him. He grabs it immediately, maybe a little too tightly, but he can't afford to lose his cool any more than he already has.

"I know, it's a lot to handle," she says. "It's been a lot for us, too. But Nick is telling you all the truth. It has nothing to do with the cult. We aren't being manipulated, and we aren't trying to betray anyone. Nick found him when he needed help, and we helped him. It's as simple as that."

She offers them an apologetic smile. "Things after the bombs have been hard on all of us. But the past still haunts me. It's been almost ten years and I still have nightmares about it. I want this world to be better than the last one, but there's still so much of me left back there. When Nick found John, I thought — I thought we might not be done, honestly. I felt the same way you all feel now. But then I thought, maybe if somebody like John could change, then maybe that meant better for me. For all of us."

Hurk, frowning heavily, crosses his arms over his chest as Sharky slowly uncrosses his. "You really wanna put that much hope on that guy?" he asks.

"Well — yes," Kim admits. "I know that maybe it doesn't seem like enough — I know it doesn't seem like enough to him — but John has been trying. And I can't afford to give up on anybody who wants to be better than the person they were."

Nick realizes that Clark has disappeared from the group. The family from the Honda is nowhere to be seen either; Mary Hall is standing at the back porch with her hands on her son's shoulders while Carmina stands next to them.

For a moment, the silence between the two sides seems insurmountable, and Nick worries that they might have to be ready to move or otherwise defend their home from an angry mob. But eventually, after a few tortuously long seconds have gone by, Sonny Hall comes to a decision.

"Well, I suppose it doesn't matter what happens in Hope County anymore," he says, scratching his chin. "Only time will tell if we'll have to deal with Eden's Gate in California. Still... Might be best if we get moving sooner, all things considered."

"Guess we're getting out while the getting's good," Merit tells Katrina, who looks like she still wants to pick a fight, even with a wide-open escape at her back. "Don't worry, nothing from this podunk piece of shit is gonna affect anything, ever!"

Katrina stares at John like she's memorizing a mortal enemy. "You better hope not," she tells him, although she looks at Nick when she says it.

Sharky doesn't move as the group begins to retreat, leaving Hurk to awkwardly stop some feet behind and wait for him. He stares at Nick like he doesn't recognize the ugly thing he sees standing there.

"It was a real low blow, bringing the deputy into this," he says. "You know that."

For the first time today, Nick feels truly guilty. True or not, throwing anything Rook-related in Sharky's face is definitely a low blow. "Yeah," he says. "I shouldn't have done that."

Deflating at Nick's apology, Sharky scowls in John's direction before eyeballing the Ryes. "Lucky for you, I like Kim," he says at last, sniffing dismissively. "Otherwise, we'd have a real problem here."

"Thank you, Sharky," Kim replies. "Be safe, okay?"

Nodding reluctantly, Sharky turns to join his and Hurk's small gang. Nick watches them all go, unable to decide whether or not that was the best possible outcome, or simply the least bloodthirsty. He can't help but worry who they're going to tell what , but at this point, it's out of his hands.

"I'll go get Carmina," Kim says after a brief silence. "It might be better if they don't see us before they leave."

"I'll do it," Jerome says. He breaks away somewhat guiltily, but Nick can tell that he wishes he could join the caravan right now and get as far away from this mess as possible. Hell, after the way things went today, he still might try.

It's only once Jerome is gone that John speaks, struggling to keep his voice from shaking. "It's not really over," he says, "It can't be."

"Well, we'll have to go through that a couple hundred more times," Nick points out, "But... I mean, yeah. It's over. Sorry I wouldn't let them flog you or anything."

It's probably too early to joke, but he manages to draw a sigh from John, which is better than nothing. He's saved from having to respond as Carmina jogs across the yard, bouncing from foot to foot once she comes to an antsy stop in front of them.

"Is everything okay?" she asks. "They're all leaving!"

"Everything is fine," Kim tells her. "They want to get some distance before night-fall, that's all. Did you have any luck trading with Liam?"

Kim distracts Carmina from the escaping caravan by talking about her new book, as well as some potential ways to find new reading material. Nick and John both remain in the same spots that they'd defended themselves from, until the last car rumbles out of the drive and Jerome reappears on the back porch.

"What now?" John asks.

"I dunno," Nick replies. "I guess we'll just have to wait and see."

#far cry 5 #fc5 #fcnd #new dawn #john seed #nick rye #kim rye #far cry fanfic #my fic

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