#anyway. never forget there was a time when we saw firefighters and just. kept walking while thinking thoughts completely unrelated to them

[buckdiazlafd]

.

[libraryofloveletters]

A June Wedding

Evan Buckley x Reader 

Warnings: alcohol and the consumption of 

Category: Fluff 

Word Count: 2.8k

Author’s Note: idk what this is, I opened the doc and just started typing, so yeah // the flashbacks are set two years ago, when y/n meets Buck. The end is back to the present

---- 

From B: I was thinking about you.

From B: I miss you. 

The phone sat in your hand, you stared down at the message on the screen. It had been months, maybe longer since you met him-  2 years to be precise. 

The two of you had a weird friendship to say the least. One of those “will they, won’t they?” kind of things. Everyone seemed to notice how the two of you were in love except the two of you. 

Your story starts in a hole in the wall coffee shop two years ago, when Buck comes in after his first shift at the station. 

*Two Years Before* 

Tired and hungry was a typical look you saw among the folks who came to your shop. It was downtown LA and there were a lot of businesses around including station 118. 

Among your typical morning crowd, there were people in suits and ties, the few hippies/skater crowd and your favourite, the fire-fighters. 

They were your favourite not because they always had larger orders but they usually left big tips and were super sweet. 

It was around 9 in the evening when the bell on the door chimed as it was pushed open. You were closing up for the day but the ‘come in, we’re open’ sign still hung on the window that was ideally supposed to be taken down an hour ago. 

Pulling a tray of cookies from the oven, you were startled by the door considering that you thought you locked the door. Peering from the doorway of the kitchen, there was a man by the counter, staring up at the menu board. 

“Hi,” you smile, hesitantly stepping towards the counter from the kitchen. He glances down at you and smiles, mumbling a hello. 

“Uh, we’re actually closed right now.” you inform him. 

His brows furrow, glancing over his shoulder at the window. “But the sign-” “I forget to take it down.” 

“Oh. I’m sorry, I’ll- okay, I'm gonna go.” he looked.. disappointed. He pulls a phone out his pocket and sighs. You take that moment to study him. A grey sweatshirt and a pair of jeans, there’s a hat sitting backwards on his head and a duffle bag tossed over his shoulder. As he turns to leave, you notice the 4 letters written on his hat in bright red - LAFD. 

“Hey!” you call out, “You’re a firefighter ?” 

The blonde smiles and nods, “yeah, I started today actually. The guys at the station were talking about the coffee shop down the street. I didn’t get a chance to come during the day so I thought I'd come now- but I can come back another time, you’re closed”

Waving off his statement, you pick up a cup from the counter. “Nonsense, I'd never turn away one of the city’s finest.” you smile, he chuckles. “The city’s finest is more of a cop thing.” he tells you. 

“Is that so ?” asking, you begin looking through the fridge to see if there was any milk, he hums. 

“I think you’re pretty fine yourself” you mumble, standing straight when you realize what you’ve said. Your back was to him, a blush burning up your face. 

What you didn’t know was that Buck was blushing too, a pretty person like you calling him fine was surely going to make him blush and that it did. 

Clearing your throat, you turn to face him again. He was looking anywhere but at you for the moment. 

“What can I get you ?” 

“What do you have right now ?” 

“Just about everything, except for baked goods. I usually put those in the oven in the morning but I do have a tray of cookies if you’re interested.” 

“That sounds good,” he smiles at you. “I’ll take a cookie and uh-” glancing up at the menu, “whatever is your favourite drink” 

Humming, you turn and head to the kitchen to get two cookies for him and then begin mixing some coffee and creamer in a cup, along with ice and some caramel sauce. You ended up making two, one for him and one for you. 

The man was sitting at one of the stools by the window. He was watching the cars drive past. “Here,” you slide the plate over to him and set the cup beside it. 

He smiles, “thank you. How much do I owe you ?” he asks, reaching for what you assumed was his wallet. “Oh, don't worry about it. The register is locked and it’s your first time here, I wouldn’t have charged you anyways” 

“You don’t charge first time customers ?” 

“Only the firefighters, y’all hold a special place in my heart” you laugh, he smiles once more. 

“Are you in a hurry to leave? I can take it with me if you are.” 

“No, you're alright. The cookies are warm, I just took them out when you got here.” you sit beside him, taking a sip of your drink. He also takes a sip of his, you watch as his face twists and he smacks his tongue to try and figure out what it is. 

“I call it the y/n special” filling him in, his brows furrow. “It’s basically just caramel ice coffee” a small laugh passes your lips as you take another sip.

“I’m y/n by the way.” “I’m Buck” he smiles.

--

From that day, Buck was a regular in your shop. You made him a regular coffee before his shifts, 2 cream and 3 sugars - you've come to realize he had a bit of a sweet tooth.  After work, he’d stop by for an iced coffee and a cookie. You’d always keep some in the back for him. 

This became a routine, you asked him for his number so he could let you know when he was on his way to work that way you’d have his coffee ready if he was running late. 

Most mornings you’d just get an ‘coming’ or a little fire truck emoji letting you know he’s on his way to work. 

Over the next year and a half, the two of you became close. All the guys that came in from the station always teased you about your “boyfriend Buck” although he wasn’t your boyfriend. 

The two of you were close, you hung out all the time - when Buck had days off, he’d still stop by the shop for coffee or just to see you even though he lived in the opposite direction. He would also pick you up after work when you could walk home because you lived down the street. 

You often stopped by the station when you knew they were on a 24 hour shift. Buck would text you hourly with whatever he was thinking about, especially during the nights when most of his team was asleep and he couldn’t. During those 24 hour shifts, the last few hours kicked their asses, everyone was tired and too lazy to move to do anything about it- those were the days that you headed into the shop early to get some stuff together to take over for them. 

Over time, the affection between the two of you became clear to everyone but the two of you. 

You only really noticed you liked him after his unfortunate run in with the fire truck and his promotion which you decide to celebrate with him. 

There you were, a bottle of champagne in one hand and a bag of Thai takeout in the other - the perfect thing to celebrate his new- temporary as he kept reminding you- position. 

He had invited you over to watch a movie but life was short as was recently reiterated after Buck’s “getting stuck under municipal equipment” phase as the two of you joke. 

“Hey!” he smiles at you when he opens the door, immediately noticing the bottle of champagne in your hand. 

“The nice stuff,” he hummed, stepping aside so you could come in. You set the bag on the counter with the bottle before venturing further into the kitchen to find glasses. 

“What are we celebrating ?” he watches as you tumble through the cupboards. 

“Y/n?” “What ?” 

“What are we celebrating ?” he asks once more. 

“Do you not own any champagne glasses ? All I can find are solo cups and those ugly ass mugs you have.” sighing, you grab the solo cups knowing his answer already. 

“Y/n/n, I'm a 20-something year old guy living by himself-” “What makes you think I have such things?” finishing off the sentence for him which makes him laugh. 

Setting the cups down on the counter, you push the bottle over to him. “Would you be so kind as to do the honours?” you hop onto the counter. Buck peels the casing from around the top and then shakes the bottle. 

Your brows furrow, “that’s going to make a mess-” before you finish your sentence, the bottle pops. 

The cork ends up somewhere in the apartment whilst the very expensive champagne is sprayed everywhere. Buck just so innocently titled the bottle your way, soaking you in the liquid. 

Laughing, you pull the bottle away from him. He's standing in front of you when you grab his chin, pulling him towards you. Your left hand is cradling his jaw and leaning his head back to pour some of the champagne in his mouth. You over poured and split it on his shirt. 

The two of you were a laughing, sticky mess and the bottle was already half way empty. He held the cups out for you, letting you pour some into each cup before handing you one. 

“Okay, now will you tell me what prompted the champagne showers ?” he smiles, leaning against the counter next to you. 

“Well, life is short. You’re a fire Marshall now so, I’m here to celebrate.” 

Buck smiles at you, he wasn’t the biggest fan of his new job to be honest. Sure he liked it, but he’d do anything to be back out in the field. 

Your arm stretched out, “So to you Mr. Evan Buckley, wait should I say Fire Marshall Buckley ? Anyways congratulations my love, you deserve the job but if the power goes to your head, I'm putting you in your place.” laughing, you bump your cup to his. 

“To a speedy recovery and hoping for your return to the field soon because you’re driving everyone mad. Cheers!” 

Both taking a sip before Buck hops up onto the counter beside you. He shifted slightly, making a gap between the two of you and pulling the bag of takeout to the spot. Dinner was had on the counter, eating straight out of the containers.

“Bobby would be so upset if he saw us right now.” Buck mumbles, his mouth full. 

“Mhm but he’s not here. He doesn’t have to know.” 

A few moments later, his phone began ringing. He pulls it out and his eyes widen. There’s a confused look on your face, waiting for him to give you some context or tell you who’s calling. Finally he shows you his phone. 

Bobby is calling. 

“You summoned him!” Buck shouted. You resisted the urge to laugh. 

“Answer the phone!” 

You watch as Buck answers the phone, holding back his laughter at the conversation moments ago. He looked happy, you loved seeing him like that. The way his eyes glimmered when he smiled that million dollar smile of his, how his curls showed when his hair was wet or if he hadn’t cut his hair in a while. 

It was the little things that made you fall in love with him. 

He was still on the phone when you decided you’d find something to change into. 

He watched as you made your way to the bathroom, coming back out shirtless with a towel in your hand, drying off. He noticed the way you took a step every two steps like he does. He could hear you humming from upstairs, the way you went up in pitch when you saw something you liked or how you’d stop in-between to start whistling. He smiles to himself as he ends the call. 

He too had fallen love with you somewhere along the line. 

----

You watched as the little bubbles popped up on the screen on and off for the next few minutes. 

Today was your wedding day. 

You hadn’t spoken to him all day, things had been hectic. You promised to see him before you got married but truthfully, you had been so consumed with planning and making sure everything was ready that you didn’t get a chance to. 

Your friend comes in, sticking their head in and smiling at you. “You ready ?” they ask, you hum before taking one more look at the phone. 

“As ready as I'll ever be.” 

It was a hot summer day in June, you and your fiancé had decided on an outdoor wedding considering you had always wanted a June wedding. 

Standing at the end of the aisle, each side of the yard was filled with people you loved and cared about but your love was smiling at you on the verge of tears at the altar. 

Resisting the urge to laugh at him, you smile as the music begins playing - your cue to make your way down the aisle. Making it to the end without tripping, you smile at him. 

“Hey,” you smile, reaching for his hand.

“You look beautiful” he smiles, he leans forward to give you a kiss when a hand against his chest stops him. 

Bobby gives him a disapproving look, “I’ll be fast but you gotta wait to the end to kiss them, Buck.” The statement earned him a laugh from the crowd. 

The heat was getting to everyone including the two of you so Bobby skipped over the unnecessary parts, letting the two of you say your vows. 

You started, your hand giving his a squeeze. “The day you walked into the shop, I thought ‘damn, I'm gonna die. Why do I always forget to lock the door?’ but little did I know, it was going to be the love of my life walking in. From the moment we sat down and started talking was the moment I knew you were the one- you made me smile, laugh, gave me butterflies but you also made me feel safe, like I could tell you anything and you’d always be there for me. I watched you walk out with the promise of coming back in the morning and I knew then, we were gonna have a June wedding.” you laughed. 

“You taught me what love was, how to be happy, to never give up no matter what life throws my way because for the last 2 years, that’s what I've watched you do and I'm so incredibly proud to be marrying you. There’s no one else for me. It’ll always be you.” you smile, blinking back the tears. 

“How am I supposed to compete with that ?” he hums, giving you a grin. 

“Everything about you is.. perfectly imperfect, in every single sense of the term. You strive for perfection, but you come up with a slightly different version every time and I love that about you- like when you run out of breath while singing you start whistling so you don’t lose the melody, it’s the little things that make me love you. You hold the stars and the moon, you’re my whole world y/n, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. You make me a better man and I could never thank you enough for that.” Both of you are about to cry, looking at each other with the most love and adoration in your eyes. 

Bobby cuts to the end, both of you now impatient and waiting for him to announce that you were officially a couple and the moment he does, Buck pulls you towards him, kissing you like it was the last time he was ever going to. 

The sound of clapping and cheering filled your ears, making you both smile as your made you way back down the aisle officially as the Buckleys. 

---- 

taglist: @advicefromnixxxx @dralexreid @keenmarvellover @beth-winchester21 @fernandaweasley2 @yikesyikesyikes95 @hotchsdarling @duhbar1975 @hailsstormthings @averyhotchner @captainxholmes @venusrosepetal @luke-alvez @looney-literature @caitsymichelle13​ @artemishunter18 @multibuckley 

[thesquidkid]

I was the match and you were the rock

This was supposed to be a very different fic, but Things We Lost In The Fire by Bastille came on, and this was born (also I listened to the song on repeat, so there may be some lyrics scattered around 😂)

It is also quite sad (at least I have tears in my eyes writing it), so I guess sorry? Anyway, I hope you'll enjoy it! 😂 (Also on ao3)

Oh and there might be spoilers for the finale? With everything happening with the airstream.

Michael was sitting on the ground, back against his truck, in the middle of the junkyard, looking at his trailer go up in flames. All the people he cared about were besides him, Alex sitting on his right, rubbing his thigh. He had his arm around the other man, the two of them mourning the airstream and all the moments shared.

But more than just memories with Alex, the trailer held Michael’s life for over a decade. He knew the others were sad, but overall they all shared the same sense of joy - Jones was no more a threat. And as much as Michael wanted to celebrate, he also mentally counted how much everything would cost to replace, if he could live with Alex until he found a solution, how many other vehicles had been touched, how deep in debt Sanders Auto would be in.

“Out.” Sanders said, not leaving any place for discussion. He was standing, leaning against Michael’s truck, his leg touching Michael’s shoulder, a comforting presence.

When Michael had fallen to the ground seeing the flames, Sanders had kept standing, head high. But deep down, he was in a similar state to Michael - teary eye(s) and wet cheek(s), calculating the loss of money, the loss of small sentimental value. Because even if there wasn’t much in the airstream, it was all Michael’s, and Sanders had grown used to it being there, was even attached to the poor thing.

This is why he was asking everyone to leave. They didn’t belong in this place, and didn't understand what was truly happening. They wanted to celebrate the win against Jones - as they should - but they didn’t feel the same loss that Michael did.

Michael didn’t even register Sanders’ word, didn’t even hear the cars leaving, his ears still ringing from the explosion. He had gone into the airstream, to try to save anything, but it was too late, most of the inside had burnt down already, the outside shell starting to melt.

I will burn down everything you care about, Jones had said when they defeated him. At first, Michael didn’t understand. Alex was standing next to him, seemingly not on fire, Isobel and Max in a similar state. He even checked in with Sanders, called the old man to make sure he was okay, when the explosion happened. Michael had driven as fast as he could, rushing to the airstream, Alex shouting after him.

He didn’t see Alex running after him, forgetting for a moment that Michael was fireproof. It was only when Alex grabbed Michael’s hand inside the airstream, that Michael registered the dangerousity of Alex being here. Using his powers, he had pushed Alex out of there, but that didn’t stop both of them to still be coughing and Alex’s prosthetic needing to be replaced.

But neither of those things were at the front of Alex’s mind in that instant. Sitting on the ground, his leg in front of him, still hot from the fire, coughing once in a while, his only focus was Michael. Michael was okay, physically. The flames hadn’t burned him, and the coughing had stopped after a while. Emotionally, on the other hand, he knew that Michael was not okay. Even if he couldn’t fully understand how much the airstream meant to Michael, he knew that he was hurting, and wanted nothing more than to be there to comfort his boyfriend.

And so he stayed. When Sanders told the others to go, he looked up to the older man, who was only looking at the flames. He wondered if he should leave the two to be alone, to mourn, to check the damage, but he also knew that he was not going to leave Michael’s side for a few days, especially not after what happened with Jones.

The firefighters came, eventually. By then, nothing could be saved. Luckily, Michael had used his powers to push the remaining cars and various other inflammable objects present in the junkyard to the side.

When the firefighters left, having checked Alex, Michael and Sanders and advising them to go get checked out at the hospital, the three men were alone, the airstream’s creaking cutting through the night.

“You should head home,” Michael whispered to Alex, his eyes never leaving the airstream, “you need to rest your leg, I’ll join you in a bit.” He turned his head to meet Alex, who could see all the desperation, the sadness and the anger present in those golden eyes.

“You’re sure?” Alex asked, even though he already knew the answer.

Michael nodded, turning back to the airstream with a sniff. “We need to check for what can be covered by insurance, and what we’ll lose,” Sanders said with a gruff, turning his back to the airstream for the first time since the explosion.

Michael wiped his cheeks and turned around, facing Alex properly, who was sitting on the bed of the truck. From where he stood, Michael could see the airstream from the corner of his eye, could smell the burnt metal, could hear the cracks. He took Alex’s hands in his, “I’ll be home in a bit,” he said, his voice breaking, “I just need -” he went on in a sobb, dropping his head into Alex’s shoulder, who put his hand to Michael’s hair, in a comforting gesture.

It broke Alex’s heart to see this, to see Michael be so desperate, so lost, in such pain. “You need to make a list of what burned down,” Alex finished, knowing that this was important to Michael, both financially, and sentimentally. Who knew if Sanders Auto would even recover from such havoc. Alex just knew that he would do everything he could so that Michael wasn’t alone.

Michael sniffed into Alex’s shoulder, breaking Alex’s heart a little more, before standing up. He wiped his face with his hand, and breathed deeply, his hands still holding onto Alex’s.

Alex drove back home, putting his leg through one last painful challenge, before taking it off as soon as he sat on his couch, before texting Michael to let him know he had made it safe and sound.

Examining the prosthetic under a proper light, he could see that it was crooked, parts of it having melted in the heat. His stump was bright red and swollen, he made his way to the bathroom and warmed himself a bath, setting an alarm clock to get out of the water.

When the alarm rang, he dried himself and got dressed for bed, each step made with a wince. After taking two painkillers, he made his way to his bed, falling asleep as soon as he was under the covers.

He woke up when he felt a warm body slide next to him under the covers. When he opened his eyes, he saw Michael, curls still wet from the shower he had just taken, eyes still puffy. Alex scooted closer to Michael, wrapping him in his arms. They could talk in the morning, about Jones, about the airstream and the junkyard, but right now, both needed the rest and the comfort of each other.

In the morning, when Michael woke up, he found himself in an empty bed. He got out with a smile, eyes still puffy from the night before, but not crying anymore (not that he had any tears left in the first place), and walked to Alex’s living room, where he could hear some noise.

Getting closer, he could hear Alex on the phone, finishing up a conversation, “Yeah okay, I will, thanks.” He was sitting on the couch, his leg propped up on top of a pillow, the prosthetic off. On the table were laying a jar of cometquiles spread and some flying sauce-cakes, making Michael chuckle, remembering the last time those were on that exact table.

“Arthuro called and asked what you wanted, he heard about -” Alex said, going off at the end, not wanting to say it, but knowing that they needed to talk about it, the explosion.

“How’s your knee?” Michael asked instead, taking a cake and sitting next to Alex, worry clear on his face. The airstream was gone, the damage already caused at the junkyard, he and Sanders had already talked about their next possible moves, right now the only thing he could act on was Alex. Whether it was a massage, fixing the prosthetic, anything Alex needed, wanted.

“It has known better days,” Alex answered, leaning his head on Michael’s shoulder while he ate. They were silent for a few minutes, Michael enjoying breakfast, Alex texting Kyle about his leg. Once Michael finished eating, he spoke up.

“So, uh, we made a list?” Michael started, hesitantly. “Of all the things we lost in the fire. A few cars were touched, so that’s gonna cost a lot with the clients. Hopefully we can get insurance, but I don’t think that’ll be enough. There’s also a lot of old junk that burnt, which sucks since we wanted to sort through it and melt the metal parts together. Now it’s just a bunch of useless shit, so we’ll have to throw that out. We’ll also need to replace the heavy tools, a lot of them are melted or burnt. So all in all, the bill is high.”

He sighed, “Too high,” he added at the end, a whisper, as if saying the words at louf would make them more real. After the pandemic, the junkyard was slowly building itself back up monetarily, but they still weren’t out of the red. And the explosion only made things harder.

Alex rubbed his hand up and down Michael’s back, listening in silence, being a comforting presence. One Michael finished speaking, Alex talked, voice low, testing the waters if Michael wasn’t ready to talk about it now.

“Did you make a list for the airstream?” he asked, full of concern.

Michael nodded, and suddenly it was as if the dam had broken. When last night Michael was mostly in shock, he was fully sobbing, turning to Alex, who held him tight in the embrace.

“I lost -” Michael sobbed, “I lost everything, Alex.”

Alex held him, tried to make him feel calmer. Except, this was all new territory, seeing Michael brake like that, Alex had never witnessed it. Like everyone else, anger was mostly the emotion he had attributed to Michael in the past. And that anger was still there, now, sobbing into Alex’s chest. Except it was controlled, and surrounded by sadness and pain, that Alex didn’t need to be psychic to feel.

Before, Alex might have taken Michael’s comment personally, told him that he didn’t lose everything, that Alex was still there. But this was past Alex, present Alex knew that Michael had built his life in that airstream, it was his first real home, the first safe place that was his and his only. Because where the truck was technically speaking the first thing Michael owned, the trailer was the first object he built from the ground up.

So yes, Michael had lost everything. Everything he owned, everything he built, the countless drawings and projects that scattered the walls of the airstream and the entire bunker, the photographs he kept hidden in a box.

Where people would see a piece of trash, some place that was unsanitary and dirty, some place that wouldn’t be comfortable to live in, Michael had seen a home for many years. And as much as Alex was Michael’s home, nothing could replace the airstream.

“I know,” Alex whispered into Michael’s hair, “I’m sorry”.

The two stayed in that position for a while, until Alex’s phone rang. Michael stood straight, wiped his eyes and his nose, and grabbed another cake, while Alex talked to Eduardo, giving a fast review of what happened with the Lockhart machine, but keeping it vague enough to not out Dallas.

“Seriously,” Alex laughed out after hanging up, “the Valenti’s need to stop calling me.” At Michael’s confused raised eyebrow, he continued, “I was talking to Kyle earlier, he was worried about my leg, telling me not to put it under pressure. As if I couldn’t make that decision myself. And now, Eduardo is giving me a week off, to, I quote, ‘rest’. I am a grown ass man, I can do that myself!”

Michael giggled at that, turning into a laugh. “What?” Alex asked with a smile, not understanding what was funny.

“Babe,” Michael said, leaning close, “you do need people to tell you to rest.” He kissed Alex’s cheek as the other man chuckled, “That’s fair,” Alex replied, turning to look at Michael.

He was not yet in a good state, his eyes were still puffy and red, his cheeks beard the path of dried tears, his curls were all over the place, and his eyes were still heartbreaking. The sadness and the pain were clear in them.

But when Alex looked deep into Michael’s eyes, he could see that it was going to be okay. That Michael would hurt, for a long time even, and it would be hard to recover financially, but Michael’s eyes had something in them that he had desperately tried to get rid of. Hope.

And that was enough for Alex to believe that they were going to be okay. That Michael was going to be okay. The fight wasn’t over. The other’s may not be fighting Jones anymore, but Michael and Alex weren't done. In more ways than once.

They still had to deal with the damages in the junkyard. Help Sanders with his auto shop. And deal with their personal fears, Michael’s fears about his father.

The fire had destroyed Michael’s home, but from the ashes, a new one was being built.

[maybe-theres-hope]

Vague tarlos prompt if it inspires you? Any situation involving protective carlos? Love your writing! :)

Hi anon! Thank you for prompting! 

Warnings: references to Rohypnol type substance (though it is not named), potential assault situation. Absolutely nothing actually happens, it’s handled quickly and this is mostly lighthearted. I just wanted to warn for anyone who’s triggered by the situation. 

Carlos didn’t frequent bars much, as a rule. He liked dancing, sure, and socializing; however it was mostly the clientele he didn’t like. Carlos was a cop--he’d seen the shitty underbelly of this city more than he cared to acknowledge, and usually nefarious types like that liked to hang out in places like this: loud, anonymous, and dark. Most of the time his friends didn’t invite him out to clubs and bars because he couldn’t turn off his instincts and thus it made him a little bit of a stick in the mud at times.

Tonight was similar, though he’d allowed himself to let loose just a little. Michelle had bugged him for ages to come out this bar, a hole in the wall that she said he might be able to pick up in, given the atmosphere was pretty welcoming for a country joint.

At this particular moment, just past his third beer, he was beginning to see the appeal.

Standing at the bar and chatting with the girl behind it was the absolute cutest guy he’d ever seen. Compact but muscular, with arms just slightly too big for the sleeves of his patterned shirt. Casual stance, but seeming a little out of place. Probably a tourist. And holy hell, his perfect ass. Carlos was not a shallow guy, but watching as the guy leaned in closer to talk to the bartender and the way the denim pulled over what was probably the most beautiful specimen of a ‘bubble butt’ Carlos had ever seen, he had to admit to himself that he was literally objectifying the guy where he stood.

To his consternation though, Michelle noticed right away. “I see you leering, Carlos. Go, I’m fine here,” she smirked.

“I was not leering, Jesus ‘Chelle. I was just...admiring.”

“Mmhmm. Well? Go talk to him, or I will.”

He snorted. “I don’t think you’re his type at all, chica.”

“You can tell that from way over here? Or are you just hopefully projecting?” She took another sip of her beer and glanced back over to the guy, who was now being approached by another handsome man. The newcomer was tall and lean with a disarming smile that Carlos’ object returned.

“See that?” he said with a nod of his head. “Body language is everything. He’s gay, believe me. Or at least he swings that way.”

“Okay so? Why are you still sitting here? Someone’s about to beat you to the punch.”

Carlos sat and watched as the newcomer said something apparently chuckle-worthy, and the cutie he’d been watching obliged with the sweetest smile and a bashful duck of his head. The tall guy was laying it on thick, and it was apparently working. Carlos knew he’d missed his chance once Tall Guy’s hand slid softly down Cutie’s arm and lingered there for a moment with no rejection. Oh well.

“Too late,” he sighed, turning back to his beer.

Just a few minutes later, he couldn’t help himself checking over again, just to see that gorgeous smile again. However, this time Tall Guy was by himself, no sign of Cutie boy in the tight jeans. The bartender placed a cup of water in front of Tall Guy and walked away to take care of another customer at the other end of the bar. Carlos was just thinking that he actually might have a chance if he could find the guy again in the crowd when his instincts kicked in.

Tall Guy picked up the cup of water, holding it near his hip, between his body and the bar before placing it back on the top. He gave it a quick stir with the straw and left it alone.

Carlos watched him closely, but he never picked it back up. Then, Cutie returned, clearly having gone off to the bathroom or something similar, still with that sweet smile for his companion. His hand reached toward the cup, and Carlos was out of his seat before he could bring it a fraction of the way to his mouth.

“Hey!” he yelled across the room, nearly drowned out by the music but luckily it caught Cutie’s attention just barely. He looked up at Carlos with a startled look, turning to confusion and a little bit of fear, no doubt in response to Carlos’ thunderous expression.

Carlos barely looked at him, his eyes only on Tall Guy as he shouldered his way between them, putting the other guy safely behind his back.

“That how you think you’re gonna get laid tonight?” He gestured to the cup, still held in Cutie’s hands. "Drugging someone so they can’t say no?”

“What?” came the guy’s incredulous reply from behind him.

“I didn’t do anything, man. You’re just jealous I saw him first.” And wow, what an asshole. The guy was standing right there for crying out loud.

“I’m right here, and I’m not a commodity.” This bit was a little exasperated.

Carlos didn’t back down. “I know what I saw, and I know what the consequences are for you if you don’t just turn around and get lost right now.” He took that moment to pull out his badge and hold it up for Tall Guy to see clearly. “Unless you’d like to stay, in which case I’ll start reading you your rights.”

Tall Guy looked sufficiently scolded, but still resentful. Carlos puffed up his chest a little more and took a step into his space.

“Fine, man, fine. I’ll see myself out, officer,” he spit. Carlos turned back to Cutie without giving the guy a second glance.

“Are you okay?” he asked, not able to help the concern in his voice.

“Did you really see him put something in the cup?” Cutie asked. His face had gone a little pale.

“Yeah. I didn’t know what it was, but that kind of thing is never good. I’ve seen some horrible shit at the other end of encounters like that,” he said.

This made the guy’s face turn relieved and overwhelmed all at once. “Thank you,” he said with conviction. He looked ready to hug Carlos, which Carlos himself wouldn’t have minded in the least, but seriously, they’d just met.

“You’re welcome. Not that I don’t think you can handle yourself, but...you know. Cop,” he said with a self-conscious gesture at his badge before stowing it away in his pocket again.

“No, I mean, yes thank you for saving me from a fucking asshole like that but also…it’s...I’m.” He struggled to find words, and Carlos was confused, but he let the man come to the words on his own. “Even more than the physical danger, which I’d probably recover from anyway--”

And didn’t that make Carlos feel even more protective of this sweet, gorgeous man.

“I’m sober. So. The recovery from that would have been...much worse. So thank you,” he said again, looking Carlos in the eye with more seriousness than he’d been prepared for.

Now Carlos was a little overwhelmed himself, but he managed a “No problem.” The man kept looking at him though, so he kept talking. “I’m Carlos, by the way.”

“TK,” he said, offering his hand. “So I have to ask, how did you see him put something in my drink from way across the bar?”

Carlos’ face grew hot. “Umm. Well, I--”

TK laughed. “I was watching you too, before.” His eyes shined in the neon lights behind the bar, and Carlos was lost for a moment. “You’re cute, couldn’t help myself. I can even forgive you for playing for the other team,” he joked.

Carlos figured he was referring to the fact that he was sitting in a booth with a woman, and hurried to correct the assumption. “Oh, no I...Michelle’s just a friend. I’m definitely gay,” he stuttered.

This only made TK laugh more, and even though Carlos could tell it was at his own expense, he wanted to hear more of it. When he’d recovered, he went on. “Oh, I know you are. No straight man knows what colors flatter them that well,” he gestured to Carlos’ green v-neck tee and black jeans. “I meant that you’re a cop. I’m a firefighter. Other team?” He grinned again at his joke.

Carlos just stared at him, face feeling redder by the minute and he thanked every possible deity that this bar was dark enough to hide it. Hopefully. He came to after a moment and let out a startled laugh which brought a bright smile to TK’s face.

“Well, I guess I can make an exception this once and ask you to join us?” he ribbed. “If you’d like. My friend Michelle over there is a paramedic. We can swap war stories and you can forget about the asshole.” He grinned hopefully at TK.

“I’d like that,” was his answer.

Thank you for reading! Please reblog if you liked it :)

[stydiaeverafter]

One Bed, Two Hearts, Three Nights

Summary: Buck and Eddie share more than just a bed in Texas; they share their feelings.

It's been a while since I've written for our boys! I've missed them. With the new season starting and all the new content for the 911 Crossover and Buck Begins, I've been feeling inspired. @reachgirl made a post about a bed sharing fic idea, and being a person who loves this particular trope, I was happy to oblige. This fic will have 3 parts. I hope you enjoy the first chapter! Xo.

Read on ao3

***

Chapter One: 1st Night —

Buck was beyond exhausted as the 118 finally made their way to a small motel close to the wildfire.

As Bobby went up to the counter, talking to the lady at the front desk, Buck couldn't help but take in his best friend.

How could someone manage to still look so damn good after a day of putting out fires? That was the thing, though; he always did.

Buck couldn't help the thoughts that were popping into his mind, any more than the feelings that had risen.

He concluded that he had fallen for his best friend years ago. When exactly, he wasn't sure. But there they were, and he wasn't sure what to do with them.

Buck had started noticing when they had spent time together quarantining. During a dark time of the unknown, Buck had found comfort in staying with Eddie and Christopher. It felt so natural being together as if a light bulb went off in his brain, screaming, this is what you've been waiting for!

They had cooked together, watch movies together, fallen asleep near each other on the couch, and shared lingering glances, to the point where Buck started to question if Eddie was feeling the same way as he was.

Buck and Eddie hardly talked about romance, especially after Abby and Shannon. They kept to themselves about all that. That wasn't what their friendship was based around. So Buck wasn't even sure if Eddie could ever see him in that way. Hell, he had been surprised himself. Growing up, he knew he was bisexual, but he hid it away. His father wasn't an accepting man for anything different from the norm he wanted to display—the perfect family image. So Buck, unfortunately, had suppressed that part of him deep down underneath everything that made him, him.

It was only when being around Eddie that that part of him was revealed once more.

The two of them had always been tighter than tight, but this felt different somehow, and spending endless time with Christopher? A huge bonus. He loved that kid more than life itself.

One night when they had been playing Monopoly, Christopher had accidentally called Buck dad. Eddie had looked startled but not as surprised as Buck had felt in that moment. But the feeling brought a sense of ease that all was right in the world. It felt natural and right, something Buck had dreamed about for most of his life. He could still remember Eddie's expression as his astonishment had shifted into what seemed like happiness at Christopher's following giggle.

Buck also recalled a particular evening when it had been stormy, and the power had gone out. Eddie had lit candles around the house, and the two of them shared a couple of drinks as they chatted in the darkness. At one point, their fingers had touched, and they held each other's gaze for what felt like a lifetime. Eddie had seemed to want to say something to him, just like he had wanted to express to Eddie how he was feeling, but Christopher had gotten scared from the thunder and interrupted them. Eddie, being the amazing father he was, had stopped everything so he could be there for his son.

Buck had to love him for it.

They hadn't finished the conversation in the days to come, because then Cap had said they could return to their homes. Buck, of course, had been disappointed, but he didn't want to overstay his welcome, especially because Chimney was asking to stay with him, wanting to make sure Maddie and their baby would be safe. How could he have said no to that?

So here Buck was, sitting in a grimy motel looking at his best friend, who he was madly in love with and not knowing how to move forward.

Eddie looked exhausted as he laid his head against the wall, closing his eyes. Buck realized his hand was moving towards his friend, wanting to touch his face. Quickly, he moved it down by his side, stuffing his palm into his pocket.

Bobby walked over, actual room keys in hand, "Alright, because the firefighters are in town helping with the fire, they're limited on space. I hope you all don't mind, but we'll be getting a bit cozy for the next couple of days. Chimney and I will room together in a two-bed bedroom. Hen, you'll have an adjoining room, but to yourself." Bobby looked over at Buck and Eddie, "And because I know you two are close, I figured you wouldn't mind sharing a bed. At least, I hope you don't mind, that's all they had left."

Buck noticed Eddie stiffen, and he couldn't ignore the way his own heart was hammering against his chest.

Unfortunately, there had been some unspoken tension between them as of late, which was making things a bit awkward between them. Buck was unsure if it was his energy or the two of them combined.

Way to make me confront my feelings, Cap...

Clearing his throat, Eddie shook his head, "Nah, we don't mind, do we, Buck?"

"Not at all." ***

"It smells like sulfur in here," Eddie said, squinting his nose.

"Isn't that just the way Texas smells?" Buck laughed as he put his duffle bag on the bed.

Eddie looked over at his friend and chuckled, "No, Buck, it's not. But don't go out there saying that; you might get a bullet in your behind for dissing the state."

Not that he had looked at Buck's ass or anything.

Okay, that was a blatant lie. Of course, Eddie had looked. How could he not?

The guy was hotter than the fires they put out daily.

"I agree though, it stinks in here," Buck replied. "That or it's me." He lifted up his arm to smell his pit and winced, "I need to get this dirt off my body."

Do you need help? "Yeah, go for it."

"You sure?"

Eddie nodded awkwardly towards the bathroom, "I'll get the second shower."

Buck walked towards the bathroom and leaned out the door with that familiar grin, "I can't promise I'll save you any hot water."

"Okay, and I can't promise that I won't kick you off the bed in my sleep," Eddie responded with a wink.

"Duly noted," Buck chuckled as he closed the door.

As Eddie could hear Buck's clothes hit the floor and the water start, his heart started pounding. Get a grip, Diaz.

Then again, if he hadn't been able to control it during quarantine, there was no hope for the next few nights when sharing a bed.

Damn his feelings.

Eddie had thought he had been a certain way all his life, so it surprised him when he felt a sexual awakening for the guy after spending more time with him.

He had mistaken it as a deepened friendship. That all changed when he had stared at Buck's lips, wanting a taste.

Shaking his head, Eddie pulled out his phone and called Chris, who was currently staying with Carla.

After exchanging some pleasantries with Carla, she handed him the phone, "Hi, daddy!'

Eddie smiled, "Hey, buddy, how you doin'?"

"Good! We made breakfast for dinner."

"Ooo, my favorite! I wish I could be there. Pancakes and eggs?"

"Mmhmm, with chocolate sauce," Chris replied with a giggle.

"Sounds good, but make sure you eat some veggies and don't forget your vitamins," Eddie said, raising an eyebrow. He stated it, but he knew Carla was a saint; she always took the best care of his boy, even getting a COVID test so she could stay with him. He was so blessed to have her in their lives, thanks to Buck, of course.

Someday he'd thank the guy for everything.

"Tell your dad that I've got it covered, baby," Carla's voice exclaimed in the background.

"Did you hear her?" Chris asked.

"I sure did, tell her she's the captain in charge, and I trust her."

As his son relayed the message, he wished he could give Christopher a big hug. It was crazy how much he missed him even after just one day.

"How's Buck doing?"

Eddie looked towards the bathroom door, "He's good. We've been busy out there trying to get this fire to stop. It's been a lot of work for us."

"You're both superheroes!"

His son, the angel.

"We're proud to do it."

"Well, I'm proud of you and Buck, tell him, okay?"

"I'll tell Buck, I promise," Eddie responded with a nod.

"Tell me what?"

Eddie looked over and saw Buck standing by the bathroom, steam coming out through the cracked door like the smoke of the fire.

God damn. Eddie swallowed at the sight of the towel around Buck's waist. His muscles were still wet, and his hair was perfectly messy. Eddie forced himself to look away.

"Christopher was just telling me to tell you he's proud of us for the work we're doing out here," Eddie answered with a sheepish grin.

Buck's face lit up, in the way it always did when he was around Chris. "Can I talk to him for a minute?"

Eddie nodded, standing up, "Of course. I better get in the shower anyway so we can get some sleep." Buck walked up to him, and Eddie prayed the towel would somehow fall off on his way over, which were totally inappropriate thoughts to be having. He turned his focus back to his son, "Hey, Chris, Buck wants to talk to you, okay?"

When his son cheered, Buck laughed, clearly hearing it.

"Talk to you tomorrow, son. Sleep well."

"Night, Daddy," Chris replied. "I love you."

"I love you, too," Eddie stated, his heart feeling full. "Here's Buck."

He handed Buck the phone, and their fingers touched. For a moment, they just stared at each other, Eddie realizing how close they were standing.

It was electrifying.

This same thing had happened when they were quarantining together. That was the night Eddie wanted to express his feelings, even though he had been afraid to potentially change their relationship. But he never had the chance to tell Buck; he wondered if he ever would.

Buck bit his lip, and Eddie could hear how shakily he inhaled.

Stepping away hurt, but his son was waiting on the other end of the line. But it was those moments that Eddie felt as though Buck had feelings for him, too.

Buck sat down on the bed and ran his fingers through his wet hair, "Hey buddy! I miss you!"

Eddie reached into his bag, getting a pair of thin workout pants out. He looked for his shirt to wear to bed and swore internally because he realized he had forgotten it.

As he walked to the bathroom, he paused and looked over at Buck, who was in deep conversation about the new game Christopher had played. It always warmed Eddie's heart to see the connection between his son and his best friend.

Closing the door, he realized that he was one of the lucky ones.

***

Buck loved talking to Christopher; it was just what he had needed tonight. After the grueling work they'd performed all day, the sweet innocence of that child made him feel like he had been embraced with ease and comfort.

He sat for a moment on the bed, not moving after ending the call, and thought about what had just transpired between him and Eddie.

There had been a spark—Buck had felt it.

His fingers still hummed from the touch of Eddie.

God, he wanted more. He craved more.

This type of desire for another was unlike anything Buck had ever experienced.

As he looked down at his hand, Buck realized he wanted to tell Eddie how he felt. Sure, it was scary as hell, but having these feelings and not acting on them after all this time, was freaking killing him.

Buck didn't want to be afraid anymore. He had been talking to his therapist not to hide away from feelings—something Buck had done most of his life.

He sighed as he changed into his sweat bottoms and a tank top, regretting his life choices as the humidity of a wet towel lingered around his body; he couldn't wait to get back to California.

Buck turned the AC as low as he could, hearing the rumble it started making. "Lovely," he muttered.

Eddie opened the door and raised an eyebrow, "What the hell is that noise?"

Buck's reply was all but lost on him as he took Eddie in, wearing his tight workout bottoms and his chiseled bare chest.

Holy crap... how was he going to function for the rest of the night, especially lying next to this Adonis?

He cleared his throat, "Sorry, I had to crank the AC on to deal with this god awful humidity."

"And here I thought you could handle the heat," Eddie smirked, raising a perfect eyebrow.

If Eddie were flirting with him, he'd take it and give it right back.

"You know I can handle a lot," he replied, moving closer to his friend, "but sometimes a man can only take so much." Buck rolled his hand down his shirt, feeling the sweat already pressing through.

Eddie's eyes followed his hand as they traveled down, but then Eddie looked towards the single queen bed, "C'mon, let's get some sleep. We've gotta be up in a few hours."

Guess that was the end of that.

"Roger that."

As they got into bed, Buck's body was vibrating, shaking with anxious anticipation.

Eddie switched the light off and muttered as he turned away from Buck, "Good night."

"Night, Eddie."

They laid there for what felt like an eternity, and Buck felt more awake than ever.

The mixture of humidity and Eddie's body heat so close was overwhelming. Buck wanted to move further away to catch his breath, but he also wanted to straddle the guy.

What a predicament.

He flipped back-and-forth, trying to get not only comfortable but hoping to turn off his thoughts for a while.

Finally, he just sat staring at the ceiling, hearing sirens somewhere outside. They were still going strong on the fire—that would be them soon enough.

Buck had to get some sleep; his safety and his team's depended on it. He closed his eyes, willing sleep to come.

"Buck?"

His eyes popped open. He turned his head towards Eddie, "Yeah?"

"Are you okay over there?"

"Why do you ask?"

"Because you're flopping around like the omelet my son had for dinner," Eddie mumbled sleepily.

Buck laughed without humor at the ridiculousness of wanting his best friend so badly. "I'm fine, sorry about that. Can't seem to get comfortable."

"It is a tiny bed. I can scoot over more if you want, though?"

As Eddie started to shift over more, Buck grabbed his arm on impulse, feeling his thick muscles, "No, no, it's okay. You don't need to do that."

"Well, if it's the heat, you might wanna lose your fleece sweat pants."

Buck bit his lip at what Eddie was implying. He attempted to make his comment light, "You'd know with your hometown experience I suppose."

"Mmhmm."

"Okay, that might help. If you don't mind, of course."

"Why would I mind?" Eddie asked, turning over to look at Buck through the darkness.

"Uh, I dunno. Just wanted to be respectful is all."

"Buck, we've known each other for a long time. You taking off your pants won't offend me," Eddie said. He was quiet for a moment before adding, "Believe me."

"Okay, okay, I'll take off my pants then." Buck smiled as he stood up, removing his pants and then his shirt. All that was left was his boxer briefs. It was both a relief and a turn on, especially as he noticed Eddie watching him.

Eddie rolled over onto his stomach and chuckled, "You're ridiculous."

"But you love me for it."

"I do."

The words halted Buck in his tracks, and he just sat there.

I do.

Eddie looked at him while he was stuck being frozen, "Buck? What is it?"

I do.

Buck exhaled as he lowered himself back into bed, "It's nothing." It was everything.

He maneuvered under the sheets and put his hands behind his head, exhaling loudly.

"You can talk to me, you know?"

"Yeah, I know," Buck replied, closing his eyes.

The problem was, he just didn't know where to start.

[madamewriterofwrongs]

Unashamed

911/Buddie

Words: 900

Inspired by this post.

Buck helped the last victim off of the overturned bus, letting her grab his forearm when she lost her balance. “You’re okay.” He assured her, spotting Eddie approaching with more medical supplies. “See that hot firefighter over there? He’s gonna make sure you’re well taken care of.” He was well versed in ignoring Hen’s many snorts of exasperation. What? He was just calling it like he saw it.

The woman, still clinging to his arm seemed to consider his words. “He is kinda hot, isn’t he.” Buck did not feel jealous. There was nothing to be jealous of. If anything, there was a bit of pride in knowing he wasn’t the only one with powers of observation.

“Please.” Hen rolled her eyes, guiding the woman over to the station she’d set up.

To his credit, Buck didn’t completely scoff at his friend. Just snorted a little. “Don’t be rude, Hen. The lady clearly has excellent taste.” She introduced herself as Cindy and Buck responded with his own greeting. “I couldn’t agree with you more, Cindy. Eddie is so cute. And he’s nice too, you know? Like, genuinely a nice guy. Those are hard to find.” He kept gushing while Hen conducted her examination of the woman. “And he’s smart; like clinical and strategic and his work ethic is crazy. He’s sweet and kind and nice and smart. And on top of that, he has abs you could just lick.” He sighed, half forgetting Cindy and Hen were even there for the way he was staring wistfully at Eddie approaching them. “I’m definitely gonna take him home tonight.”

“Oh?” He realized he might have been oversharing a little too much by the surprise in their patient’s voice. “Are you two dating?”

“No.” He was quick to shake his head but Hen shot him a warning look which kept him from explaining any further.

“Buck”

“What? I was just answering her question.”

“Ugh.” Hen rolled her eyes again but began to clean and wipe the superficial wounds.

Buck waved her off, turning his attention back to Cindy. “Ignore her, she’s just jealous.”

“The only person I’m jealous of is Chimney who is all the way over there and doesn’t have to listen to your nonsense.”

At least their banter was helping to distract the woman between them. She chuckled and Buck took it as permission to keep entertaining her with their incredibly important discussion.

“Anyways, we were talking about the hot firefighter.” He was about to lean in and start on an itemized list of Eddie’s best qualities when the man approached, a blinding smile on his face (blinding smile was #6). “Speak of the devil.” He let the medic get a little closer before he called out: “Hey Eddie, what do you say you come back to my place tonight.”

‘Shock and awe’ was his goal and ‘shock and awe’ was what he got. Eddie stopped his tracks with a look unreadable to everyone except for Buck. He recognized it as a fond mix of exasperation, surprise, and amusement.

“A little bold there, don’t you think?”

All Buck could do was shrug. “I know what I want.”

“Oh, really?” Eddie’s expression shifted to one of dark interested and Buck forgot himself for a moment. Only for a moment, though.

“Yup.” He returned with a bright smile. “I was just telling Cindy here that I wanted to take the hot firefighter home with me tonight.”

It was meant to be light and teasing. He thought it would get a smile or a chuckle out the man. Instead, Eddie looked downright scandalized “Buck, I’m surprised at you. I am a happily married man.” A breath later, he winked before walking away. “I’ll see you at 8.”

Buck unashamedly watched him walk away. Eddie’s ass was #3 on the list.

“Uh. What?”

He returned to reality with a coy smile on his face, prepared to continue with their earlier conversation. Cindy stared, silent and pale, her eyes darting around and back to Buck, clearly flustered.

Oh right. To her, Buck had just propositioned a married man and said married man had agreed. There was pretending to flirt in front of people who didn’t know them, and there was...that. 

He raised his hands forward to calm her. “He’s my husband.” He assured her, enjoying the little thrill that shot through him when said those words. Husband.

“Oh.” Cindy immediately breathed a sigh of relief, melting in the same movement. “Aw.” She cooed. “That’s actually kind of adorable that you guys are flirting with each other even after you’re married.” Buck always thought so. Eddie was slowly growing to love it – as evidenced by his impeccable acting skills. Not everyone loved it.

“Yeah the first hundred times they did it.” Hen scoffed from behind Cindy’s head as she finished her work.

“Hush, Hen.” Buck scolded her quickly. This was a dance they did almost daily. Buck and Eddie would do something adorable and not at all annoying and one of their team members (usually Hen or Chimney) would see fit to ruin their fun with talks of professionalism and ‘how often are you going pretend to ask if he’s seeing anyone before you get new material?’. It never mattered to Buck that much; he knew the teasing was a part of being a family. And besides, “Cindy has a very good point.” They really were adorable.

[howtosingit]

Fic: the crash and the fall and you there through it all

Carlos faces the loss of Iris Blake for the second time in three years.

*

A missing moment from 1x07. 

2.3K | Also on AO3

- - - - - -

He’s able to keep it together while he drops Michelle off at her mom’s house, jumping out of his car to give her a tight hug. She clings to him, her sobs rattling through his ribcage, before she pulls away, quickly masking her pain for her mother. He waits until she’s inside the house before he turns away, blinking rapidly to fight the sting he feels at the corners of his eyes.

He’s able to keep it together on the drive home, too, pulling into his driveway and switching off the ignition. His mind races with the image of the blue pickup truck being pulled from the ravine, along with the memory of the last time he saw Iris alive three years ago, and his heart rate speeds up, the pounding in his ears reaching a crescendo. Before he can let it overwhelm him, he pushes open the door and races into his apartment.

But once he’s inside, he doesn’t know what to do. He looks around, taking in the stillness of his living room and kitchen, the low hum of the air purifier in the corner. It’s completely at odds with the wild, erratic energy coursing through his veins, causing him to tremble in his entryway. He knows he can’t stay here, that he’s moments away from becoming something akin to a bull in a china shop; he needs an outlet, somewhere to put all of this excess internal commotion, and nothing in his apartment presents itself as the answer. So, he’s got to get out.

He all but runs to his bedroom, stripping off his jeans in favor of his running clothes. He sits down only long enough to slip on his shoes before he’s up again, grabbing his phone, keys, and AirPods and heading for the door.

He pulls it open, barely breaking his rhythm, and runs headfirst into the man standing on his front step, his hand raised to knock. Carlos collides with him, sending them both stumbling a few steps. 

“Fuck, sorry,” he cries, reaching out to grab TK’s gray hoodie right before the other man falls into the bush next to his front walk. 

“That was a close one,” TK says, a grin on his face as he rebalances. Carlos watches as that smile slips away when TK turns to look at him, replaced by an expression of concern. “Carlos, are you okay?”

The words run through Carlos’s mind, his brain somehow unable to process them fully. Is he okay? He’s been fine for three years, he’s pretty sure, but maybe that was just a facade. Maybe he’s just been faking his way towards fine all of this time. Finding the truck, the one that they’re pretty certain Iris was in the night she died, it’s like facing her disappearance all over again. He thought he was ready, that he could handle this, but maybe he was wrong.

Then, there’s another part of him that doesn’t really know why this is hitting him so hard. They haven’t even started the full investigation of the truck yet, they don’t even really know that they’ve found the answers that Michelle has been searching for this whole time. Carlos understands the process, lives by the process - in general, by process itself. He knows how this works, so he doesn’t understand why his brain and his heart are intent on skipping all of the steps. They’re still at the beginning, there’s a lot that they don’t know, so why is he acting like they’re at the end? 

It’s not what he does, this isn’t who he is, and he doesn’t know how to make that make sense to himself, let alone try to explain it to someone else.

Someone else like TK, who is standing in front of him wearing a terrified expression and… oh, he’s calling his name.

“Carlos!”

He snaps out of his mental traffic jam, his eyes darting everywhere. He can feel his chest rising and falling, can still hear his heart pounding in his ears, but he tries to ignore it, to focus on the man in front of him instead.

“Did we have plans?” he asks, his voice thin. He honestly can’t remember, and that’s not at all like him either; he never forgets his plans, especially ones with TK.

“Um, not exactly,” TK says, the words coming slowly as he reaches up to rub at the back of his neck. “But, I remembered you saying you had the night off, so I thought I might stop by and see if you wanted to-”

“Do you want to go for a run?” Carlos cuts him off. He knows it’s rude, and typically he would never do something like that. He can practically hear his mother scolding him from San Antonio, but he pushes that guilt away. The loose canon of energy that has been coursing through for the past ten minutes is starting to build again, and he needs to do something about it. Now.

TK’s mouth snaps shut, his eyes roaming over Carlos, obviously trying to figure out what exactly is going on. He’s sure he looks a mess, if not a little terrifying. He tries not to look like this ever, too intent on appearing professional and put-together at all times. He knows he’s definitely never looked like this in front of TK.

“Yeah, sure,” TK finally says, gazing into his eyes. 

Carlos nods, quickly turning to lock his front door before moving past TK. “I move pretty fast, so try to keep up,” he tries to joke, but his voice doesn’t sound right for it to really land. TK seems to understand his intention anyway, if his smile is any indication.

“Show me what you’ve got, officer,” TK says, falling into step next to him.

They race through Carlos’s neighborhood, side-by-side, and then into the park at the end of his street. He doesn’t bother with his AirPods, content to listen to the sounds of wildlife all around him and TK’s steady breathing right next to him. 

They run for what seems like forever, Carlos pushing himself harder as his mind attacks him with memories of happier days spent with his college best friend before she disappeared out of his life in the blink of an eye. They hadn’t been as close then, with him joining the academy and her… doing something else. Whenever there was time for them to hang out and catch up, she would cancel on him, without explanation, and he eventually learned not to push for her attention.

He’s always hated being the one doing the chasing.

There’s anger now, too, mixed with his grief, and he allows the strain of his muscles to push forward and overcome those feelings. His eyes burn, and he knows he’s crying now, after having kept his tears at bay for so long, but he lets them come, lets them mix with his sweat and disappear as if they never really happened at all.

The entire time, TK runs at his side.

They re-enter his neighborhood, finishing a full loop around the area, and as they come up to his front yard, he pulls back a bit, reaching down for his keys. TK lets out a huff next to him, a sound of pure relief, and Carlos can’t help but smile at the sound. 

“Holy fuck, that was brutal, man,” the firefighter says, gasping for breath. Carlos turns at the door, key in the lock, to find him hunched over with his hands on his hips. 

“C’mon, I have water,” he says, ignoring the garbled tone of his voice. 

They step inside, Carlos moving towards the fridge to grab two water bottles. He hands one off to TK, who takes it with a weak “thank you” before unscrewing the cap and lifting it to his lips. They drink for a moment, the same silence from the run taking over the space. 

They stand close, and Carlos has no idea what to say. TK puts down his water and turns to look at him, his face flushed and his eyes bright.

“You were crying,” TK says knowingly, without preamble. Carlos’s breath hitches in his chest, swallowing heavily as the other man takes a step closer to stand right in front of him. Without a word, TK brings his hands up to cup Carlos’s face, his thumbs moving to brush away the sweat and tears from his cheeks. “Talk to me, Carlos. I’m right here.”

He hears the sincerity in TK’s voice, recalls similar words coming out of his own mouth only a few weeks ago, when the tables were turned and TK was feeling lost. He opens his mouth, trying to say something, anything.

“I…” he starts, trailing off with a huff when his voice cracks on the single syllable. He feels raw again, like all of his thoughts and emotions are just beneath the surface, wanting to push through. He thought the run would help, but it didn’t. He thought pushing himself past his comfort level would leave him empty, but it didn’t. He doesn’t know what to do now.

TK’s grip tightens on his face, almost as if he can tell that Carlos is thinking about running away again. Their eyes lock, and Carlos lets out a breath for the first time as he stares into those bright, lovely, wonderful green irises; the ones that haunt his dreams and make him feel bigger than himself. The ones that ground him.

Oh.

There’s a shift at that thought, the notion that TK grounds him, and he knows without even thinking about it that it’s true. 

All he needs is TK.

Before he can even begin to process that revelation, he finds himself pushing forward, whining as he captures TK’s lips with his own, his hands coming around to hold the man close to him. 

There’s a moment of shock before TK responds, but when he does, Carlos feels the way that he pushes into him, both of them trying to find some sense of control in the unexpected moment. 

Their tongues tangle together, dancing through familiar choreography from months ago like it was just yesterday. It’s a language that they speak without needing to learn, a conversation that comes naturally and fills Carlos with a yearning so strong that he wishes to never be parted from TK again, lest he forget how magical it is to know this man in this way.

And then, TK loosens his hold, pulling away suddenly.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he says quickly, taking a step back. “I shouldn’t have… I didn’t mean to… I’m so sorry.”

Carlos watches him struggle to find his words, shaking his head as he steps closer. “No, TK, stop. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Carlos, you’re clearly going through something,” TK explains, his voice sharp as his eyebrows furrow in concern, “and I want to be here for you, but not like this, okay? This isn’t what you need right now.”

“Yes, it is,” Carlos says automatically, and he knows it’s a lie but he can’t help the way that his heart fills with hope at the idea of holding TK again, even just for a moment. “It’s exactly what I need.”

“Carlos, please,” TK pleads, stepping close and taking Carlos’s face in his hands again.

“I want you here, TK, I do,” Carlos says desperately, placing his hands on TK’s hips. “Believe me, I want you right here.”

TK’s expression softens at his words, his lips pulling up into a sympathetic smile. “I want to be right here, too, Carlos,” he admits, his voice barely more than a whisper. “But it can’t happen like this, okay? You’re hurting right now, whether you want me to know it or not, and I can’t be a thing that hurts you even more, no matter how good it might feel in the moment.” He leans forward, resting his forehead against Carlos’s own. “Please, I know you can understand that.”

The thing is, Carlos does. He’s self-aware enough to know that he’s trying to mask the events of today behind something that he knows he wants, something that he knows will bring him a moment of peace. But TK’s right: the moment will come to an end, and if they don’t talk about it, it won’t end well. For either of them.

They both deserve to have this moment when the time is right, not when it’s forced inside a different, painful moment. That’s not fair to them, or their relationship.

“I’m sorry,” Carlos says, choking back tears as his vision blurs. “I’m sorry, TK.”

“Hey, no,” TK cries, pulling him into his arms. “You don’t have anything to apologize for, Carlos.”

Carlos buries his face in TK’s neck, finally letting go of the pain from earlier. He lets TK guide him to the couch, where Carlos curls into his side, continuing to unleash everything that has been weighing him down for the past few hours. He feels himself drift off, the exhaustion from his run and his day with Michelle finally pulling him into sleep.

When he wakes up, he’s still on the couch. His shoes are off and a blanket covers his body. The lamp in the corner provides the smallest amount of light, and as he looks around, he realizes he’s alone. 

A note sits on the coffee table in front of him, the paper pulled from the grocery list pad in the kitchen. It’s a simple message, just a few lines. 

Sorry for leaving, I didn’t want to overstay my welcome. Text me when you’re up for it. -TK

(I’m not running away.)

Carlos’s head falls back onto the couch cushion, and in no time at all, sleep pulls him under again.

[unholyhelbig]

Bechloe Apocalypse AU? I know it's been done before, but damn, do I love a good trope.

[A/N: This prompt has been in my inbox for a long time and I’m just now getting to it. But the main idea is from @auideas] 

Read on AO3 | Request Prompts here 

Beca was always the first to stir in the morning. It wasn’t by the light that streamed through the blinds, but her own biological clock that did it. A seven am on the dot, she would wake and stretch and feel her fingers met with the cold of the house. The blinds were drawn and a little slit of yellow, or sometimes gray depending on the weather, mapped itself on the wooden floor.

They hadn’t done much to the old Victorian manor at the edge of town. It came furnished and the only thing they bothered changing was the sheets on the four-post bed and the towels in the closet. They smelled so thickly of must that Beca made the begrudging trip into town for supplies.

Beca would pad down to the kitchen on the creaky wooden stairs and flicked on the coffee maker. She reveled in the darkness, in the cool relief from the South Carolina air. They kept the central unit on high and thick curtains over nearly every pane of glass in the house.

Chloe would stir an hour after her wife.

Maybe it was the absence of heat or her own lungs filling with dark roast. She followed the scent and grasped at the paper set on the kitchen table. She would skip to the sports section first but would always return to the front page for whatever story they deemed import enough.

“Ah, a firefighter with a cat.” She creased the paper “Charming and quaint.”

Beca grunted as she stood on her toes to grasp two mugs. They also came with the house, covered in dust until she scrubbed them. A cartoonish illustration of teddy bears dawned the front and she couldn’t bring herself to read the cheesy sayings past their first week in the Victorian.

She didn’t’ want to get to know the people in town. It was small enough that she got questioning stares from the gas station clerk whenever they ran out of allergy medication or on the rare occasion, milk. He bit his tongue but studied her face. Doveport South Carolina. Not even on the map.

Chloe figured that this is where people went to disappear. Not when they had fresh blood on their palms and dirt under their nails, but when the dust had settled, and they needed a place to ride out the storm. People lived on boats and deep in the swampy woods. They bought foreclosed homes with cash. They barely went outside, and hell- the air was too stiff.

“Did he pull it from a tree?” Beca asked.

“A storm drain, actually,” Chloe said.

The shorter of the two set down a steaming cup in front of her wife. It was loaded with French vanilla creamer and too much sugar for Beca to stomach. She swallowed two gulps of black coffee and cupped her hands around it to keep in the warmth. The house had to be cold. Though, her nose suffered the most from the stark temperature.

Chloe hummed into the steam rising from her drink “Coleman is supposed to drop of the sample today.”

“Coleman is s douche.”

“A douche with a sample. And besides, he won’t even come into the house. The light is too much for anyone to handle, much less the test slides. He’ll drop it by the greenhouse and be on his way.”

“I don’t even want him in my vicinity, Chlo. His male testosterone permeates the air.”

Chloe didn’t’ dignify Beca’s dramatics with a response. It reminded her of the days when she would run around on playgrounds, crunching over mulch and trying to get away from the boys with cooties. But then she had become a biochemist and even well before that, knew that that’s not how things spread.

Not cooties anyway. Maybe the flu or a common cold, but the only thing men were good for in this century was transporting what they needed. People in Doveport never gave a man a second look. Not when they dawned a hat and had grease on their hands. They wouldn’t question his duffel bag or the scent of gunpowder.

Beca went to take another sip of her coffee but stopped mid gulp when the familiar hum of the central cooling system sputtered to a stop. They had grown so used to the noise and the icy atmosphere. She exchanged a worried look with her wife and lowered the cup. “Well shit.”

“Was it supposed to storm today?”

“No. I checked.” Beca tapped the paper absently before pulling herself from the kitchen table. They didn’t’ have much time before their backup generators would kick on. But those hadn’t either. Not yet. Why hadn’t they? Fuck.

Chloe must have had the same thought. Worry crossed her features before she padded across the kitchen and pulled the door to the basement open. She creaked down the steps and was instantly overwhelmed by the heat that had already begun to fill the sod-coated room.

There weren’t basements in the south. Not usually but they had chosen the old Victorian because it had one in the first place. She walked towards the line of tables that were usually lit by a bluish-purple light. Those had gone off too.

In the stumbling darkness she grasped the samples carefully and placed them in the large freezer under the stairs. The ice that incrusted it wouldn’t’ last long but hopefully this power outage wouldn’t either.  She sealed it. She prayed about it too but wouldn’t’ let Beca know about that.

Science was magic and magic was science and religion fell somewhere in between but it eased her mind to speak to a higher power regardless.

“Chlo! I think you should see this!”

She didn’t waste any time sprinting up the slotted stairs and leaving the musty basement behind. Sweat had formed against her cheeks and made her skin tight when it hit whatever cold air was left in the nearly empty living room. Beca had peeled the blackout curtain back and the light stung her eyes.

“You opened the window?” Chloe asked.

“I was curious.” Beca Said.

Chloe sighed and squeezed close to her partner before she herself pulled back the dark cloth just an inch. Her heart rushes faster and there was a heat leaking through the windows. She hated the south and the lack of silence that it held onto.

It was the same street that she saw once or twice a month when she ventured from the house. There was another house across the way that had been empty since they arrived. There was a cop that lived next door and a nice family adjacent to them. But right now- there was blood.

The patrol car that usually sat in the driveway was turned on its side and a mass of guts and blood and teeth stirred in the front driveway. She saw fingers flick and smelled fire, or gas, or a mix of both. It made her throat burn.

A stranger, a man in fishing waders had half of his face missing and a dead look behind his yellowed eyes. He limped and groaned tepidly, continuing like he was going on a stroll. His jaw swung back and forth as a clock and Chloe grimaced.

“Well damn.” She let the curtain fall, “This is bullshit we were so close.”

“I know, but someone else was closer.”

Beca walked back towards the kitchen and grasped her now chilled cup of coffee. She finished it off and grabbed the newspaper, looking at the smiling face of the firefighter with a burnt-looking cat in his arms. It was filthy and its fur was matted. She frowned and placed it back on the table.

“Damn government funding. If I could have just gotten my hands on the Amscope.” She grimaced “we’re going to buy you a whole house but you can use a magnifying glass to create a zombie virus.”

“The institution is counting on you, Miss Mitchell.” Chloe mocked.

“Doctor Mitchell, I swear, they always forget that part. You know what we can’t forget? The nine years of our life that we spent getting degrees in science and then another three years held up in this place creating a bioweapon that we didn’t even get to release.”

Chloe lifted her eyebrows and leaned against the adjacent kitchen wall. She had to admit, it was a little disappointing. A letdown after all of this time. But she felt a bit of relief well up inside of her. They would send an extraction team for them at some point and then maybe they would be directed to create a cure. Maybe.

“I think we should get a cat,” Chloe said, picking up the paper and wiggling it towards her wife. “Look at his cute little face.”

“Mm, before or after the apocalypse?” Beca asked.

“During, probably,” Chloe said. “I’d consider a dog.”  

[masculinepeacock]

I: Injury and Introspection for @dimension20alphabet​

Pete was standing in the middle of the sewers, again, surrounded by his friends. How this kept fucking happening to them he would never fully understand. The sewers weren’t too bad, honestly, but they weren’t exactly fun either. The fight was pretty brutal, there was no Kugrash and his totems to help them this time. The cement floor was disgusting and slimy, which caused a lot of people to slip, even Ricky fell down.

Ana and Amelia had been with them, tearing through enemies which had been pretty cool. They were terrifying as vampires, which was awesome since they were allies. Kingston hadn’t been with them, since he had a real person job that had crazy hours sometimes. Ricky was the only one who was there with real heals, so after the nastiness of the fight he had tried to heal everyone as much as he could before everyone split off. 

Sofia had to get back to the monastery, but Ricky and Pete had days off work in the first place, which was why they were there. All three of them helped each other out of the sewer and before she left Sofia turned to them and said, “Don’t forget to text me when you get home so I know you didn’t die on the way!” She waved and headed towards the ferry, as confidently as ever.

Pete waved back and caught something out of the corner of his eye while he did. Ricky raised his arm to wave but quickly bringing it back down, his semi-permanent smile momentarily tightened. When Sofia was definitely out of earshot Pete turned to Ricky, “Are you okay?”

Ricky looked shocked by the question, “Of course I’m okay!”

It felt mean to do, of course Pete was gonna do it anyway, but to prove his point he poked Ricky in the side, right where he saw him get hit earlier. Ricky hissed a breath in between his teeth and gave Pete a look that Pete had never seen him make before. It was like he was angry but he didn’t know what angry was supposed to look like. It was kinda hot. Most of what Ricky did was at least kinda hot. But that wasn’t the point right now. 

“Oh so you’re okay?”

“Maybe not 100%, but I will be with a little R&R, I have IcyHot. Or I could just go to sleep and recharge my spell slots.”

“You know you can’t just sleep on this! Those are your ribs!” Pete really didn’t expect Ricky to just brush off concern like this. Ricky gave Pete a knowing look before trying to shrug.

“You don’t have to worry about me. I’ll be fine. I feel better already” 

“We’re going to St. Owens,” Pete tried to sound stern, authoritative, but instead it came out kind of scared.

Ricky and Pete had started walking, so they weren’t blocking the sidewalk, but now Ricky stopped, “We can’t go to St. Owens.”

“Why not? It’s where Kingston works.”

“Yeah it’s also where Emiko works, and I don’t need to stress her out. She’s been stressed out enough since she learned about the unsleeping city.”

“So you’re not going to get medical help so you won’t stress your sister out?”

“...Yeah?” Ricky looked at Pete like his answer was the most obvious thing in the world. Maybe it was to Ricky.

“Fine, can I walk you to your apartment at least.”

“Of course man, I love when we hang out.”

Pete really hoped that the fact that it was dark outside was enough to cover the fact that he was blushing, just a little bit. They walked in silence for a little while, but Pete was never very good at that. “Why didn’t you just heal yourself?”

“Other people needed heals.”

“Other people’s wounds were mostly superficial. No one would’ve blamed you for healing yourself. You got to take care of yourself too man.”

“Yeah I guess, Pete. I mean, I keep people safe y’know? And I help people now at Helping Hands, but it’s not the same thing as being a firefighter. Or having the Questing Blade. But I can heal people. That I can still do.”

an heal people. That I can still do.”

If Pete hadn’t been listening to closely he may not have heard the frustration in Ricky’s voice, or seen the tightness in his shoulders. Pete hadn’t really put a lot of thought into the fact that Ricky’s life had changed so drastically. Sure, they hung out a lot, but for a lot of it Pete has been wrapped up in his own shit. He knows Ricky understands but he wants to be there for Ricky too.

“Hey man, you don’t need to always be the hero, you’re allowed to let other people take care of you.”

Ricky nodded but Pete wasn’t sure if heard him, “For sure, for sure. When we get back to me and Esther’s place do you want to get takeout? Maybe hangout and watch a movie with us?”

“I’d love to.” Maybe when Ricky wasn’t listening Pete could figure out how to work out a system with Esther where they both make sure Ricky took care of himself sometimes too. Being around a real life Superman was weird, because it was easy to forget he was just as human as the rest of them. Maybe even more human than the rest of them. 

Suddenly it was really easy for Pete to remember when Ricky sacrificed himself for the greater good of New York City, and Pete wondered how often he did on a smaller scale everyday or every fight. How often did he take hits that the others couldn’t take? Or go without heals so other people would have them? 

Pete made a mental note to keep better track of Ricky during battles, maybe even bring it up with Kingston if he decided that didn’t break Ricky’s trust too much.

  Ricky nudged Pete with his arm, “Pete?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m gonna be okay. I always am.”

“Yeah, you always are, aren’t you?”

Looking at Ricky’s smile hurt, it was so happy it was almost blinding. Pete smiled too, just on pure instinct. He was going to make sure Ricky was always okay. 

[ruzek-halstead]

pretty

part one

pairing: jay halstead x hailey upton

the whole one chicago gang is at molly's having a great time until will halstead corners jay about his relationship with hailey and advises him to quite literally take his girl home. (un)fortunately, hailey isn't interested in going back to her home.

“alright, so answer me this. hypothetically, if hailey was to go home with, oh, i don’t know, severide or something, would you be completely okay with that?”

part two || masterlist

warnings: swearing, fluffery

hailey never drinks this much. seriously. ever.

somehow, she gets caught up with the crowd at molly's and the shots start flowing. it doesn’t help that her drinking partners include kelly severide, adam ruzek and joe cruz, among the rest of the first responders that tag along.

she had made her way over with her own squad and mingled with the rest of their friends. currently she has her arm wrapped around severide’s waist, with his around her shoulders and they are screaming the lyrics to whatever song is currently playing. adam is grabbing everyone another round of tequila shots while kim is serenading hailey from across the booth. the rest of the first responder ladies are present too; vanessa, sylvie, emily, natalie and april sitting at their own booth enjoying the night. the majority of the guys are settled at the bar; jay, will, matt and kevin conversing over beers.

jay trusts hailey wholeheartedly and there’s no question about it. however, he can’t help but worry, considering he’s never seen her consume so much alcohol in such little time. especially because she has kept up with every single drink severide has had and he’s seen severide quite drunk before.

“jay, if you’re going to keep looking at her every five seconds, you may as well just go over there now,” will whispers, raising an eyebrow at his brother. he lowers his voice so the rest of his friends don’t hear (but honestly, will is convinced literally everyone but them knows those two are in love with each other).

jay instantly turns his attention to his brother, his cheeks pinking at getting caught. “i'm just keeping an eye,” he replies, sipping his beer.

“yeah, clearly,” will rolls his eyes. “so, are you two dating yet?”

jay sputters, easily choking on his drink. “what the hell are you talking about, man?”

will lifts an eyebrow at jay's immediate denial. “i mean, i have eyes, jay,” he explains, as if it’s obvious. “dude, you’re obviously in love with her.”

“have you been helping yourself to the hospital’s medicine cabinet?”

will furrows his brows. “are you asking if i’m on drugs?” jay looks at him expectantly. “you're clearly not very perceptive.”

“i do just fine, thanks,” jay rolls his eyes as he finishes the last of his beer. “hailey and i are just partners, that’s all, and you know that.”

“bullshit,” will says with a single smirk.

jay levels him with an incredulous stare; his brother can be such a pain in the ass sometimes. “we're partners, will; we see a lot of hard shit every day and we’re close. but that’s all it is.”

“alright, so answer me this,” will replies and jay rolls his eyes, literally debating just walking out right now. “just humour me,” he cuts him off. “hypothetically, if hailey was to go home with, oh, i don’t know, severide or something, would you be completely okay with that?”

instinctively, jay looks over at hailey again. she's still nestled close to severide, but it didn’t bother him until now.

“i would – i would be fine,” jay replies but flinches when he stumbles on his words. this is exactly what will is waiting for, like a vulture.

he finishes off his beer with a smirk, “my point is proven, and i'm finished here.”

jay's jaw clenches tight. he's annoyed with his brother and now he can’t stop looking at severide’s arm around hailey without wanting to rip it off.

will halstead, everyone.

“i'm heading home,” will digs into his pocket to drop some bills on the counter, winking at herrmann. “you should probably take your girl home though, make sure she gets into bed safely. you know, her own bed.”

jay glares at him. “you’re a dick and i hate you so much right now.”

“goodnight bro,” will laughs, completely unaffected by his younger brother’s words. he pats him on the shoulder and says, “love you.”

regardless of how annoying his brother is and how he knows exactly how to push his buttons, will is basically the only family he has left. which is why he replies with a quiet “love you too” before ordering a whiskey to counteract his brother’s words.

it feels as if it’s karaoke night at molly’s with the amount of singing currently taking place. it’s loud and terribly off-key but they’re all having a great time and he can’t help but chuckle when he hears adam attempt celine dion’s my heart will go on.

jay finds himself by himself at the bar, staring at his half empty glass. matt and kevin have gone to join the ladies in their booth, but jay doesn’t want to join them. if he’s being completely honest, the only person he wants to talk to is hailey, but she’s otherwise occupied. he's debating whether or not he should make his way home, when he feels a weight tumble into his side.

he nearly falls off his stool but catches himself with a foot on the floor and a hand on the bar.

“oops,” hailey giggles and jay looks over to see her clutching onto the bar for dear life.

it's odd to see her so clumsy and giggly since she is always so cool and collected. she very rarely lets down her walls, much like himself. and when she does, it’s because something big has prompted it and she needs to vent.

“you alright?” he raises an eyebrow as she attempts to hop onto the stool beside him. he opts to grabbing her arm and guiding her to ease the difficulties she’s having; she’s still giggling. “can we get a water please?” jay asks herrmann behind the bar and the firefighter sends him a smirk but obliges anyway.

hailey finally settles in her seat and swivels to face jay. her eyes are glazed over and she’s smiling goofily; honestly, it’s a sight he thought he’d never see. “i saw you all alone and thought you needed some company.”

“actually, i’m thinking of heading out soon,” he replies as he pushes the glass of iced water in her direction. she wrinkles her nose as it, but he pushes it further with a stern look.

hailey gives in and takes two large gulps. “i should too. i'm getting very sleepy,” she adds, her eyes dropping for dramatic effect.

or so jay thinks it’s for dramatic effect but then he genuinely thinks she’s sleeping at the bar. “hailey, wake up,” he chides, chuckling because he can’t help himself; she looks adorable. “come on, drink your water.”

hailey blindly reaches for the glass again but refuses to open her eyes. once again, he’s not surprised she doesn’t listen to his instructions. her arms rest against the bar and she moves to drop her head against it too. “alright,” he laughs, “do you want me to take you home?”

her eyes instantly pop back open and her blue eyes stare at him in adoration. “take me home, jay halstead.”

jay swallows roughly but drops a few bills on the counter and bids goodnight to herrmann.

hailey is up and out of her seat within seconds and a newfound source of energy. she bounds over to her group from earlier, yelling cheerful goodbyes as she runs into kim for a messy hug. jay follows her, standing behind and waiting for her like a dutiful partner (or so he convinces himself). she shares a hug with adam and jay tenses when she moves to say goodbye to severide (honestly, he was so dramatic).

but all hailey does is steal his shot glass and drain it, while severide laughs and ruffles her hair. and suddenly, jay feels like an idiot for the jealous thoughts that consumed him earlier because clearly, their relationship is barely anything more than sibling-like. with that, jay says a quick goodbye to his co-workers and friends and walks hailey out the door.

he tries, he really does. but as soon as he opens the door so she can exit ahead of him, he realizes she can hardly even walk, much less in a straight line. hailey's giggling as she stumbles into the brick wall, so jay gently grabs her arm to guide her in the direction of his truck. hailey takes full advantage of the closeness and snuggles up as close as she can.

“you’re going to have a hell of a hangover tomorrow,” jay murmurs quietly. he's opening the passenger door and helping her up into the vehicle. her foot slips on the outside step and jay hastily grabs her before she falls on the ground.

she's still laughing, and he hoists her into the truck and fastens her seatbelt; he isn’t taking any more chances. “impossible. i'm greek, we don’t get hangovers,” she replies as he’s stretched over her. he can smell the tequila on her breath and accidentally catches her gaze as he pulls back. her blue eyes are mesmerizing and they’re staring at him with such intensity, he forgets his purpose for a moment.

“somehow i don’t think that will be the case tomorrow,” he says quickly to distract himself from her captivating gaze. he closes the door and makes his way to the driver’s side and does everything he can to avoid looking at her. she doesn’t make it easy; she’s purposely staring right at his side profile.

his jaw is twitching; he knows it, but he can’t control it. “where are we going?” she asks suddenly.

“i'm dropping you off at your place?” jay answers in a questioning tone.

hailey instantly protests, her arms crossing and her lips pouting. “i don’t want to go home,” she says defiantly.

“hailey, you have to go home. we have to work in the morning, and you need to sleep off that hangover,” jay's voice is gentle, but hailey is not having it.

clearly, she isn’t getting more sober as time goes on and jay sighs. “jay, do not take me home – i don’t want to go.”

he humours her. “where do you expect me to take you then? it's one in the morning.”

a slow smile spreads across her features. “i want to go to your place.”

jay sputters for a moment but regains his composure quickly. “what? my apartment?”

“yeah,” she’s still giggling. “you have that really good scotch and i could really go for a glass right now.”

jay shakes his head but can’t help the amused smile; she’s been drinking tequila all night but now wants to switch and mix whiskey. he doesn’t think farther into it, doesn’t want to let his mind get distracted with hypotheticals. instead, he makes the rest of the short trip to his apartment and holds his hobbling partner all the way to his door.

she's an obliterated giggling mess and he doesn’t even find himself growing irritated.

hailey’s smart and she heads straight for the scotch, but he knows better. “not a chance in hell,” he quips as he swipes the bottle before she gets her hands on it. he holds it above his head where she definitely can’t reach and then places it on an even higher shelf.

“jay,” she whines with a frown and sways on her feet.

jay places a hand on her waist and shuffles her in the direction of his bedroom. “come on hailey, let’s get some sleep,” he’s practically begging. “we have to be up so early.”

upon hearing the pleading in his voice, hailey concedes and allows him to push her in the direction of his bedroom. she’s been in it before but never to spend the night. she’s honestly too drunk to think anything more of it. when she spots his bed, she dives face first and ignores his snickers.

jay is rummaging through his drawers and pulls out an old police academy long-sleeve (his biceps were much smaller at the time) and a pair of sweatpants for her to change into. when he turns around, she is already sitting up and waiting for him expectantly, so he throws the clothes at her face. her reflexes are understandably inebriated, just like the rest of her.

she’s laughing again. “thanks halstead!”

by the time he turns back to face her, her t-shirt is up over her head. they're both adults and professionals, so he doesn’t hastily turn away as if his eyes are burning. he’s mature and raises a single eyebrow in her direction.

hailey's smirking. “sorry,” she says but she’s the least bit apologetic. she’s attempting to take off her jeans now, but they get stuck around her ankles and her vision is swimming too much for her to focus. “jay,” she murmurs, “help.”

“this would probably be easier if you took off your shoes,” he replies as he unties her boots and sets them by his door. she saves him the embarrassment and tugs off the rest of her jeans. she takes the shirt he threw at her and pulls it over her head, reveling in the warmth. she loves how it smells like fabric softener but still smells like jay.

hailey takes one look at jay’s old sweatpants and throws them back at him. “i don’t wear pants to bed,” she wrinkles her nose in distaste  

jay mumbles something under his breath but folds and places the pair of sweats back into their rightful drawer. he's trying so hard to keep his shit together, but she is not making it easy. hailey wastes no more time and pulls back the covers to get comfortable underneath them. she pulls them up below her neck and watches jay as he moves about his room, with the brightest blue eyes. there’s something about seeing her like that, in his bed, so carefree, that he just can’t look at her without melting.

jay grabs an extra blanket from his closet and heads for the door. “i’ll bring you some water and advil before i turn in. but you should get some sleep, i'll wake you up in the morning.”

hailey’s eyes grow confused and her limbs stretch out from underneath the blankets to reach for him. “no, jay, where are you going?”

she’s clearly getting sleepy once again. “i'm sleeping on the couch tonight. i'll see you in the morning.”

he tries to leave again but hailey sputters and nearly rolls off the bed trying to stop him. he sighs and rushes forward to steady her. “jay, please don’t sleep on the couch,” hailey says quietly. her eyes are fluttering sleepily, and jay knows it’s only a matter of time before she’s out like a light. “i want you to sleep here.”

jay stares at her by can’t quite get a read on her. “okay,” he replies, just as quietly, “just let me go get—”

“no!” she clutches onto his arm. “just come to bed.”

jay plans on protesting again, because she’s drunk and she may not feel this way in the morning, but all his self-control is gone. “okay,” he agrees.

she lets go of his arm with a satisfied smile and she looks adorable. jay is quick to shed his clothing, losing his shirt and changing into sweats. he debates whether or not he should put on a clean shirt, because he wants hailey to be comfortable but finds it super uncomfortable for him. he reaches for one anyway, but hailey is quick to object. “no shirt,” she says, and he raises an eyebrow, “i know you don’t like to sleep with shirts.”

he concedes and finds himself crawling into his side of the bed after turning off the light. hailey is quick to gravitate towards him (she’s been waiting for him to get into bed for ages, or so it feels like it). she drapes an arm across his chest and tangles her bare legs with his and she snuggles her head close to his neck. the closeness is nice, and he exhales as he wraps an arm around her frame.

“this is nice,” hailey mumbles quietly, but jay hears her loud and clear from her positions close to his ear. “you have the perfect body to cuddle.”

jay can’t help but laugh. “uh, thank you?”

“really muscular,” her cold hands start roaming his upper chest and he tries not to go rigid.

instead, he chuckles nervously. “alright hailey, you’re drunk. it’s time to get some sleep.”

“yeah, i'm drunk,” she admits quietly, “but i think you’re really pretty and i should tell you that more often.”

jay is still laughing but the exhaustion is slowly starting to hit him. “thanks hails, i think you’re pretty too.”

“yeah, i know,” she mumbles, “i can see it in the way you look at me.”

jay should probably be surprised or caught off-guard or something. but he isn’t.

instead, he feels her lips press against his neck before he dozes off.

[earth-ambassador-jim]

The Missing Month Chapter 3

Loops 8-15

This is a fanfiction that explores what happened during the first 30 time loops that Jim was in in the episode D'Aja Vu. 

Ao3 - Fanfiction

8.

“We need to do what now?” Toby asked.

“We need to cancel the science fair,” Jim repeated.

He was making a croque madame for each of his friends this morning. Just because he was stuck going through the same day did not mean he was going to make the same breakfast each time. He was beginning to contemplate trying some of the more interesting recipes he’d never had the nerve to try.

“What for? I get all the time loop stuff, but how do a bunch of fake volcanos tie into this?”

“When we tried to catch Porgon last time people saw him and saw me don my armor. What good is stopping Porgon if we expose trolls to the world and end up getting taken in by the FBI in the process?”

“Ah. Right.” Toby’s face lit up as Jim presented him with his sandwich. “So any ideas?”

Jim sighed.

“Well I would try to find some way to convince Señor… I mean Principal Uhl to move it, but…”

“He doesn’t really like us?”

“Yeah…”

The three of them sat for a long moment in silence.

“So why don’t we just pull the fire alarm?” asked Toby.

“If we do that we’d have to do it immediately before the attack. Otherwise the fire department would come and find out it was just a prank and reopen the building again before the attack,” Claire said. “But if we do it right before and get the timing even slightly wrong the fire department will arrive either right before or during our fight and then we will have to explain some things we really don’t want to.”

She paused for a moment then added. “Best case scenario we manage to clear anything Troll related, but we still get arrested for vandalism and Mom files a restraining order against you guys and grounds me.”

Toby sighed.

“Don’t forget Jim and I getting another mark on our records… Man, if the world doesn’t end we won’t be able to get jobs with our horrible criminal history. Only 16 and already robbing museums and committing vandalism.”

Jim patted him on the shoulder.

“Hopefully it won’t come to that. What else have we got?”

“Maybe we could cause a water leak?” Toby suggested.

“That might work,” Jim said perking up.

“Yeah but won’t there be cleanup crews there evaluating the damage?” Claire spun her staff around in her fingers.  

“True.”

They lapsed into silence again.

“We could always make up a list of the possibilities and try them all until one works?”

Before they could get any father there was a thud  and the sound of something heavy coming up the stairs.

“Good Morning, Master Jim!” Blinky said cheerfully as he emerged from the basement.

“Hey Blinky,” Jim said.

Aaarrrgghh took a moment longer to join them as he forced his body through the door. Between him and Draal Jim was surprised that doorframe hadn’t broken yet. Or that his mom hadn’t noticed all the scratches.

“So any idea on what that strange cylinder Porgon has is?”

“None I fear,” Blinky said with a sigh. “Even if I still had access to my library I doubt I would find anything on it. Whatever it is I do not believe it is of Trollish origins.”

“Ooooo, you think’s it’s some sort of top secret spy thing… or something magic from like wizards?” Toby asked, bouncing a little in his seat. “Or maybe some sort of wicked awesome alien technology?”

“I’ve no idea, but for now it would be best to focus on getting it away from Porgon. Once we do that we can study it and create a solution.”

Jim sighed. He’d really hoped that Blinky would have something on what they were up against. Maybe if they knew what it was they could make it so the rest of the Trollhunters remembered the time loops.

“Well let’s get some more ideas for stopping the science fair,” Jim said straightening up. “And then we can head over to the planetarium.”

He gave a shrug and directed a wry grin at Toby.

“We may as well try the fire alarm this time. No point in making things too complicated.”

Toby grinned and pumped his fist.

“Great! Another misdemeanor for our record!”

Jim rolled his eyes and laughed while Claire shot them a concerned look.

 9.

“I’m not sure what I was expecting,” Jim said to Claire after he finished reading Toby’s text.

It turned out that the planetarium did not use the mail if they needed to cancel an event last minute. In hindsight he wasn’t surprised.

“It was worth try. Do you want to try something else?”

“No,” Jim said as he typed out a response. “It’s too close to the restart. Anyway I really need to get some practice in on my verbs.”

Claire nodded and glanced down at the list.

“Okay next one “to hear” in present tense.”

They managed to make it almost a quarter of the way through his backlog of Spanish verb practice before the day reset.

 10.

The stink bomb, courtesy of NotEnrique, certainly cleared out the Planetarium. Jim watched from the janitor’s closet as everyone evacuating the building holding their noses. One didn’t quite make it out before throwing up.

Jim himself was wearing a respirator and had no such problems. He assumed based on the way his eyes were stinging that it was extremely pungent. If this worked but they didn’t defeat Porgon he was going to wear goggles next time.

The building was just about empty when he heard the police sirens go off. Why did the planetarium have to be so close to the police station? Jim muttered a trollish curse under his breath and looked around.

The exhibits were all strewn carelessly. One or two were gone, rescued by their fleeing owners.

Jim pulled out his walkie talkie.

“Any sign of him out there?- over”

“None,” Toby replied. “But you might want to get out. The firefighters are gearing up to go in. –over.”

Jim grimaced. Right. They probably wanted to make sure that the smell wasn’t from a toxic leak or something.

There was about 3 hours until Porgon was expected to show. Jim sighed and slipped out the side door.

 11.

Between the firefighters, the police looking around for culprits and the cleanup, the Trollhunters didn’t get another chance to sneak back in the planetarium.

First thing in the morning this loop Jim had Claire portal into the Planetarium to call the school to cancel the science fair. Unfortunately the secretary had walked in on her so that plan was a bust. They had also recognized her, so she was out of the running until the day reset.

Having Toby sabotage Miss Janeth’s and Coach Lawrance’s cars had also failed.

The fake measles outbreak text Jim had sent after breaking into the school office only kept five kids from coming.

If Jim wasn’t so frustrated he would probably be worried about how completely fine with breaking the law he and his friends were at this point. As it was if he had to live through this day one more time…

 12.

“I think I may have overdone it,” Jim said.

“You think?” Toby repeated staring at the smoking wreckage of what had been a planetarium.

“In my defense I didn’t realize the electric panel was right there.”

“Guys,” Claire said nervously. “We might want to start running.”

“It’s too late for that,” Toby said eyeing the crowd that was forming at a safe distance. “They’ve already seen our faces. If we run now we’ll be fugitives. We’ll have to hide out in caves and change our names and stuff.”

They were saved from making a decision by detective Scott showing up at that very moment.

Two hours and a lot of yelling later, Jim was very relieved when the day reset itself.

 13.

“Okay are we all set? –over” Jim radioed in from the bushes outside the planetarium.

“Ten four!  Everything’s in place.–over” Toby responded.

“In position. –over.” Claire’s signal wasn’t quite as good.

“Roger, that! Commence mission. –over and out.”

Jim slid his walkie talkie into his pocket and strolled toward the planetarium.

Out of sight in the bushes he pulled out and donned the glamor mask Blinky had given him. Now a very professional looking older man with graying hair, Jim strode confidently into the Planetarium.

Finding the first employee he could, he cleared his throat to get their attention.

“Excuse me, I’m with OSHA. We’ve been told of some safety concerns here, may I speak to your supervisor?”

The man looked surprised, but immediately complied.

“I am so glad that actually worked,” Jim said with a sigh as they slipped through Claire’s portal into one of the side rooms.

“I told you it would,” Toby said with a grin. “We were very thorough in our safety violations. Even if they do think it’s suspicious, it will take them a while to confirm it’s fake with OSHA and to realize that the actual Inspector Thompson is elsewhere. It’s not like they can trace the false investigation back to us.”

Jim hummed in response and settled down to wait. He was just relieved that they had finally solved the problem.

Time slowly crawled by and Claire and Toby got more and more relaxed in their chatter. Eventually Toby frowned and turned to Jim.

“It’s about noon. Wasn’t Porgon supposed to be here by now?”

“Yeah…” Jim said.

Had he been wrong? Did Porgon really remember the loops? Was he off on his timing?

There was a flash of blue light.

 14.

Jim was up on top of the hill overlooking Arcadia again. The Creepslayerz had been roped into helping Toby and Claire sabotage the science fair.

Jim’s phone started beeping signaling it was noon. He tensed, watchful and alert.

For agonizing minutes nothing, then the whole world exploded into blue.

 15.

Easy peasy…

Jim drew in a sharp breath as he shut off the alarm and processed what had just happened. The flash had come from under Arcadia. Given that the whole town had lit up at the same time, he highly doubted it was from the sewer system. No… the source had to be deep within the earth itself. That left one place…

Jim paced around the living room.

“Why would he go to Trollmarket now?”

Blinky frowned and glanced at Aaarrrgghh.

“I don’t know, Master Jim. Everything I’ve read about time travel is theoretical at best. There’s no way to predict how it might play out in reality…”

“Does he remember the loops as well? It didn’t seem like he did,” Jim said, scowling.

“Maybe…”

“We were so close! We were finally going to be able to fight him without being caught and end this thing!”

“Master Jim!”

Two of Blinky’s hands settled on his shoulders and the other two grabbed his arms. Jim struggled for a moment and then, failing to dislodge them, settled for shooting the troll a glare. Blinky sighed and released him.

“Master Jim, I know you are frustrated. This is a very trying situation, no doubt far beyond what any of us are aware of, but you must remain patient. Even if it doesn’t feel like it you… we are making progress. If we keep working together we can end this cycle of repetition.”

Jim bit his tongue and looked away.

“Yeah Jimbo!” Toby came up and hugged him from the side. “We’ll get you out of this in no time!”

“No time for you guys maybe,” Jim mumbled, looking down so he wouldn’t see their expressions.

“We just need new ideas!” Toby continued voice deliberately light. “Hey! Blinky can’t remember everything maybe we could sneak into his library and…”

“No!” Blinky said sharply. “It’s too dangerous. Gunmar is no doubt watching all the entrances to Trollmarket. Who knows what will happen if someone dies in this time loop. We cannot risk it.”

Toby’s eyes widened and he held up his hands.

“Sorry, it just seemed like a good idea.”

Blinky’s shoulders loosened. He sighed and rested a hand on Toby’s back.

“I know. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you… I just can’t risk losing any more of you.”

Jim watched them quietly. Now that he thought of it, there might be one major benefit to being caught in a time loop…

Technically half-way!! Yay!

Next up... Jim goes solo for a loop.

[justauthoring]

Feigning The Connection (19/?)

Prompt: You seem so invincible. But just touch you and you’ll wince. You have secrets and trust no one. You’re the perfect example of betrayal. Because anyone you’ve ever trusted broke you. Thrust into a new world, will you be able to stay alone, or will Bellamy work his way in

SEASON ONE + SEASON TWO

SEASON THREE: PART ONE - PART TWO - PART THREE

A/N: I had to skip episode seven because (which I forgot) it’s dedicated to Clarke and Lexa, so please excuse that. Anyways, I wanted to say thank you for being so involved in this story and helping me right when I asked :) it makes me so happy to know you all are so invested in this story. When I started it I never even thought that it would become this loved and well appreciated, so once again thank you!

I hope you all enjoy this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. Send me a little comment in the ask section or leave it below on what you thought of this chapter. It doesn’t have to be long, I appreciate every single comment I receive and telling me just helps inspire me to write it more frequently.

AGAIN, remember if you’d like me to continue this series, just leave a little comment or an ask letting me know. I will NOT continue the series if no one wants me to.

Pairing: Bellamy x Reader

Based off of: The 100 03x08, 03X09 and 03x10

Warnings: spoilers?

Tag’s List: @super-river-walker - @deathofthethrones - @dontstopxx - @chebz - @isabellaskyliner - @jeppthatsme - @sarita-villa - @jedibookmasterofnorta - @hoesugh  want to be featured on my tag’s list? message me letting me know.

“It’s an old saying, but it’s true... the walls have ears. And we can’t afford any more assumptions about who’s a friend and who isn’t. Not your old acquaintances, not your husband, wife or lover.”

Taking a deep breath, you looked over at those around you, unsure of how to react to what Pike was saying. The radio piece that allowed you to listen into their conversations that you’d managed to hide in the Chancellor’s office and set up, clearly worked. But it also wasn’t hard for Pike and them to get the sense they might be being listened on.

“We’re fighting two wars now and the more dangerous one is here inside this camp.” Straightening your back out, you watched your father stepped closer to the table, clearly intrigued to hear what Pike was going to say. Steeling yourself, your prepared yourself for the worst.

“We can’t prove it yet, but Kane and his accomplices passed information to Octavia.” You bit your lip, your head falling to your hands. At this stage they already knew Kane was an accomplice and it wasn’t too hard to see you were one too, especially with Bellamy knowing more he hadn’t told yet. Though, as of right now, that may only be a matter of time. “I know none of you signed up to investigate your neighbours, but Monroe and Lacroix died because the traitors in this camp sold them out to grounders.” 

You hadn’t even know Monroe had died... 

“Whoever did that will be hunted down and exposed for what they did to their own, for what they did to us.” You flinched as Pike’s voice slowly raised, anger evident in his tone; “now you get whatever resources, whatever personnel you need to make that happen. Dismissed.”

Reaching out, you clicked the radio off in frustration. Turning to your father, you waited.

“If they’re gonna play that game, we need to play it, too.” Kane stated.

“And how do we do that?” You questioned, raising an eyebrow.

Kane turned, getting up from his seat as he uttered; “meaning we don’t meet here anymore, for starters.” Shaking your head, you crossed your arms over your chest, trying to push down the panic you felt building up within you. “We change our patterns, forget our habits. Take a different route through camp every time we go out. Assume that there are eyes on us at all times.”

“Or we could just shock-lash Pike’s fascist’s ass and hand him to the grounders.” Harper spat. 

“That would be murder, not to mention treason, and that’s not who we are.”

“And maybe that’s who we should be.” You argued, shrugging your shoulders. “I mean they’re hunting us like prey. And clearly our methods aren’t working.”

Miller nodded from beside you; “I agree with Y/N. Maybe it’s who we need to be.” Kane looked at you, seemingly looking over things before shaking his head. “Not yet.”

You sighed, frustration and fear deciding your actions. Taking a breath, you kept your mouth shut as Miller rubbed aggressively against his face, sighing heavily. “Alright, then what’s the plan?”

-

“Hey, anyone followed?”

Turning to your father, stopping your pacing and shook your head no. “And what about you?”

“No, no. I’m good.” Kane shook his head, turning to Harper at the radio. “Any word from Octavia?” 

She shook her head, playing around with the radio; “been flipping through different channels all morning, nothing.” She replied. Keeping your breathing calm, you crossed your arms over your chest, biting your lip. Octavia not answering could mean a number of different things and at the moment, none of you had anyone out there available to discover which one it was.

“Nothing, I mean either she’s out of ranger--” Harper rambled. “Or they already got her,” Miller finished for her. Your father turned to him quick, shutting down his option; “or she ran her battery down, or she needed the radio silence to run the blockade. There are a lot of reasons why she might’ve gone dark.”

“I’ve been out there patrolling for the past three months,” Miller reminded. “I know this area better than any grounder, just let me go out--”

“Guys,” Harper interrupted, looking up at you three. “Listen to this.” Pulling off her headphone jack from the radio, she set the radio down carefully, letting the message play. Your heart dropped when you heard Pike’s voice, knowing it could mean anything, anything but good.

“Results of this mornings inventory was sobering,” he started. “In no way do we currently have the ammo for an extended series of firefights, not even close.” Turning to your dad, you looked at him in question.

“So what’s plan ‘B’?” Your shoulders slumped at the familiar sound of Bellamy’s voice, still finding it really hard to listen or be near him after your last conversation with him. Your father noticed your immediate change in attitude and turned to you in concern, letting a hand fall on your shoulder. You only shrugged it off, sending him a small smile. Kane didn’t have time for your pity party, besides after everything else that had gone wrong in your life, you’re not surprised the love aspect fell.

“Our lookouts say the largest Grounder encampment is in this valley, so we deploy an assault team in Rover one, and we do as much damage as we can with automatic weapons.”

“And they’ll just fall back and make a run for reinforcements.” Hannah cautioned.

“I’m counting on that.” You heard Pike reply, “the only way there and back is over this ridge. Now we can bottleneck their soldiers and pick them off.” You shook your head, not like the plan one bit. Pike and his team, including Bellamy, a become a group of mass murderers and it made you feel sick. Just picking the Grounder’s off one by one...

“We got the fire power for that?”

“We won’t need it. We have a dozen concussive antipersonnel in our armoury.” Taking a deep breath you leaned forward on the table, shaking your head. You felt Miller do the same thing beside you. Your father and Harper who only continued to listen as their faces grew more and more panicked. “I’ve already got a weapons man rigging them with a remote trigger. We load the APD’s into the rover and mine the field before we attack. After we strike, we lure their reinforcements onto the ridge and once we have enough grounders in the killing box--” 

“We detonate.” Bellamy finished and you felt your heart dropped to your stomach. “It’ll buy us sometime, but--”

“Time’s what we need.” Smacking your hand against the table, you bit your lip. “We move at dawn.” With that, Pike ended his discussion and silence filled the room.

“Alright,” your father started. “We need to disable that rover. If they take it out, it doesn’t matter how many grounders they kill. Ten times will march on Arkadia.” You nodded, completely agreeing with your father’s plan. “And no one’ll survive.” 

“You got any idea how we’re gonna stop them?” 

“I might.”

-

“Were you part of it?”

Sighing, you turned your head around catching Bellamy. Though instead of replying, you only turned back to your table, looking around you as you had before. Looking at your hands, you took a moment to stare at the chip you’d been fiddling with. After your decline earlier from Jaha, he’d insisted you took one and thought over it, so you did. And you had been thinking about it before Bellamy came.

Hearing his footsteps, you shoved the chip in your pocket just before he could see it. Bellamy fell beside you, pulling out a chair to sit in. “Why?” You finally answered, “gonna lock me up too like Sinclair?”

“How many times do I have to te-”

“That you’re trying to help me.” You finish for him, finally looking at him. “Trying to not get me arrested, yes I know.” You sigh, shaking your head. “I just didn’t know you were so okay with doing it to any of your other friends.” 

Bellamy paused and you watch him hesitate before his eyes narrowed. “There’s a threat outside these walls-”

“The threats inside these walls.” You interrupted, glaring back up at him. Shaking your head, you bit your lip looking away. “But I guess now you’re the threat too.” You ignored the pang of guilt you felt as his face faltered for just a second before he composed himself. Standing up you moved to walk away before his hand gripped your wrist, tightly, holding you in place. You slowly turn your head, willing him to say what he wanted to. And he was about to, but you never got to hear what he ‘needed’ to say because of voice interrupted him.

“Bellamy!” Turning you saw Monty heading your way, until he stopped at your table. 

“Better leave, i’m sure you both have very important business to attend to.” You scoff at both of them. Ripping your wrist from Bellamy’s hand, you turn around, stalking off. When you were far enough, sure that neither of them could see you, you pulled out the chip. Rubbing your thumb softly over the design on the top, you thought over it. It was tempting, just as it had been that night, but you weren’t one to give up that easily, especially when so many of your friends and your father needed you now.

Shaking your head, you tossed it to the side, forgetting about it.

-

“Dad, i’m old enough to make my own decisions.”

“Not this time.” Kane interrupted, grabbing ahold of your shoulders, he cautiously looked around him, making sure no one was listening. Frustrated at the fact that your very own father was treating you like a child, you crossed your arms, pouting and looking the other way. “Please, Y/N. You have to promise me that when the plan goes into action you’ll stay out of it.”

“Why?” Was the first thing that slipped through your lips. “I mean I can help with the distraction, o-or I could help with Pi-”

“No.” Kane interrupted, “no, Y/N. Listen to me, if this goes wrong, I will be arrested. And Lincoln and Sinclair, all of them will go back to lock-up, and if Harper and Miller are unlucky they could go to lock-up as well. Pike will have me and them executed. I need you to stay out of this so if things go wrong I know there’s someone left that I can trust.”

You sighed, angry at the fact that you knew he was right. But you hated having to stay on the sidelines, do nothing and be useless, it made you feel like you were worth nothing. But you also knew that your father was right and in the long run, if things did go south, you still being thought a none traitor would be beneficial.

Uncrossing your arms, you looked over, nodding your head; “fine.” You mumbled. Kane nodded, letting go of your shoulders as he turned to go. He needed to meet up with Pike like he’d planned in order for this whole thing to work. Knowing that you won’t be able to do anything to help him, should things go wrong, you grabbed onto his arm before he could walk away. Kane turned, opening his mouth to say something before your arms fell around him.

“Be safe.”

You felt your father’s arms fall around you, accepting your embrace. You could hear his heart beating rapidly and that’s when you knew he was scared. You squeezed him tighter; “I will.” Your father pushed away from the hug, giving you one last look before he walked away.

Watching his back disappear from sight, you sighed. 

-

“Get the hell out of the way!” You screamed, shoving at the guards that blocked you. Standing as tall as you could, you tried to meet your father’s eyes but the stupid guards in front of you held you still and blocked any means of seeing your father. Trying to hold in your tears, you tried to push your way past but it was hopeless. The guards weren’t budging.

“Y/N,” you father called. “Y/N! It’s okay.” He attempted one last attempt at calming you down.

“Nothing’s okay.” You mumbled, pushing at the guards one final time. You winced when one of the guards grabbed your upper arm, pinching it slightly and aggressively. Though you ignored him, still trying to get through. “Let me go!” You uttered, trying to break his grip off of your arm. He relented, only squeezing tighter. “That’s my father, my father. Let me through!”

“Ma’am, your father has been arrested for treason. No one but guard detail is allowed by that door.” The other guard spoke, his voice rather calm. Shaking your head, you tried to think rationally. The mission had gone wrong and when cornered between driving through Bellamy or surrendering, your father had chosen surrendering. Now he was being kept in lock-up until his execution. You couldn’t lose him, you refused to lose the only family you had left. And not to mention the family you’d just gained.

“I don’t care,” you breathed, out of breath. “I need to see him.”

“We’re going to have to ask you to calm down and take a step back or we’ll be forced to restrain you.” The guard threatened, taking a minute, you looked back into his eyes. “Will arresting me get me to my father?”

Both of them seemed genuinely surprised by your reply and your determination. Turning to look at one another, you waited for their answer. Just before it seemed like they’d let you through, or restrain you, a voice interrupted them; “hold up.” Taking a deep breath, you turned around only to see the one and only Bellamy walking toward you and the two guards. You couldn’t hide the anger you felt at the sight of him, since he’d been the one to arrest your father.

“What are you doing?” He asked the two guards.

“I’ll answer that,” you interrupt. “I’m going to see my father.”

“i’ll handle this.” Bellamy shooed the two guards away and pausing a moment, they finally left. Turning your head down the hall, you couldn’t even see your father anymore and figured he’d already been put in lock-up. Ignoring Bellamy, you turned to walk down the hall before his hand caught your wrist. Turning to him you glared; “i’m going to see my father.”

“No, you’re not.” He suddenly let go of your wrists, his arms wounding around your waist before you could do anything. Bellamy began dragging you away, hauling you off easily enough. You fought his grip, trying to get away from him but he seemed to use all his strength to keep you there. You felt all your emotion pulled up, as you began yelling for him to let you go. All the same, Bellamy kept his grip on you, ignoring any effort you had to make him let you go.

When he finally stopped, you were well aways from lock-up. Once you felt Bellamy’s arms leave your waist, you whipped around to face him, your hands falling against his chest harshly again and again. “You murdering son-of-a-bitch!” You screamed against him, emotions clouding your judgement and actions. Sobbing you shook your head; “they’re gonna kill him!”

Bellamy let you hit him, not making any effort to stop you. Clouded by your fury, you beat against his chest, slumping when you grew tired. Your fists hurt from how hard you’d been clenching them, and you didn’t even realize how hard you’d been trying to hit Bellamy until you finally stopped. The worst part of all was he didn’t even seem effected by your lashing out as all he did was stare down at you.

You were so pent up on your emotions you missed the sliver of guilt fill his eyes, you missed the way his guard immediately fell around you. And of course you didn’t notice Bellamy finally realize the amount of emotion turmoil he’d caused you with everything he’d done. But now he could see it, just in your eyes alone, how tired and mentally exhausted you were. How hurt you were.

Taking a shaky breath, you backed off from Bellamy. There was no point trying to get your father now, Bellamy proved he could just pick you up and carry you away. You were lucky you hadn’t been arrested yet despite your eagerness before. Wiping at the tears that had cascaded down your face aggressively, you turned. “I don’t even know who you are anymore.”

-

“What do you want?”

Looking around Miller’s shoulders, your eyes narrowed at the sight of Bellamy. Looking back at Harper, you composed yourself, tired of Bellamy seeing you at your weakest and waited to see what he needed. Your brows furrowed when Miller stepped back, letting Bellamy in. As soon as his eyes fell on you, his composure somewhat fell but you ignored him, crossing your arms. You were done playing games, and didn’t trust Bellamy one bit.

You let out a sigh when Monty stepped in behind him, shaking your head. “This should be good.” You uttered below your breath. They shut the door behind them, seemingly cautious of who was around. 

“What do-” You closed your mouth when Bellamy signalled you to be quiet. Raising an eyebrow, your gaze fell to the knife in his hands, taking a step back. Harper moved her hands to her gun, Miller doing the same thing and you prepared yourself for the worst. 

“Whoa, whoa, hey.” Taking a careful stepped forward, Bellamy slowly placed the knife against a patch on Miller’s jacket. Sliding it through, he cut off a section of the patch, revealing an opening. You watched him turn the knife over, handing the back of the knife to Miller before reaching out and taking a small chip from the jacket. You sighed, shaking your head.

“The bag blocks the signal. Now we can talk.” Monty explained, showing the bag for explanation.

“Who put it in there?” Miller asked.

“That’s not important right now.” Bellamy dismissed, “Pike just sentence Lincoln and Sinclair to death alongside Kane.” Keeping yourself calm, you couldn’t hold back the tears that welled within your eyes. Biting your lip, you laughed dryly; “yeah, like that’s news.”

“Are you trying to scare us?” Harper asked, her own voice shaky.

“No. We’re here to help. I’m sure you have a plan to break them out. What can we do to help?” 

You shook your head, turning to Bellamy. “Did you not hear me earlier? We have no plan!”

“Y/N, come on,” Monty argued.

“Look we can pull this off.” Bellamy added, “but in order to we need people to hand them off to someone the outside.”

Looking over at Miller and Harper, you looked at them in question. “We seriously don’t know what you’re talking about.” Miller repeated, to make it more clear.

“You think we want them to die.” Monty incredulously asked.

“You know what? Forget it. If my sister wants to save Lincoln’s life, you tell her to meet me at the drop-ship in a hour.” Bellamy finished, before grabbing his stuff and leaving. Monty turned to him in alarm, calling out his name but you only looked over at him unimpressed as he looked back at you three.

“After everything we’ve been through,” he started. “You don’t trust me?”

“Does your mom know you’re here, Monty?” Harper asked, tears welling up in her own eyes. Looking away when he gazed at you, you gave him the answer he needed. It felt hard, to not trust your friends like this, but after everything both Bellamy and Monty have done, you didn’t blame you or Miller and Harper. You watched Monty slowly turn, leaving through the door. Falling back on the seat, your head fell to your hands.

-

“They wouldn’t let me see you.” You gasped, taking a hesitant step forward. Your heart broke at the sight of your father in chains, it reminded you of when he’d once been staring back at you in the same position. But things had changed, majorly and that wasn’t who he was now. 

As you stared back at him, you looked to see if he had any shred of fear, but he looked as calm as ever. Opposite to yourself which you were sure you were red eyed and shaking, a mess basically. Taking the intuitive, you stepped towards him, falling just short of him. You had limited time, as you had to fight to see him and Abby still needed to see Kane before the execution. 

Looking up at his face, you hated the way he looked back at you with that same, reassuring smile. Your eyes glossed over and not caring about who was around you threw your arms around his neck, taking the moment to bask in it. If this didn’t go right, which you were praying it would, you might never see your father again. Your father hugged you back as best as he could with the restraints but you didn’t so much care.

Taking a heavy breath, you tried to control your sobs. Making sure no guard was near enough, you moved your mouth close to Kane’s ear so only he would hear. “I’m gonna get you out of here, and the rest. We have a plan.”

“Y/N, no-”

Leaning back, you sent him a small smile. “I won’t lose my father too.”

Kane only gazed back at you in shock and before he could say anything back, the guard stepped forward; “times up.” You nodded, not arguing. Following their lead, you let go of your father and began to move back to the door. “I love you.” You called.

And for the first time in a long time, worry etched his features, you could only imagine it was because he knew whatever you had planned was dangerous. But you only smiled back, before you were out the door. Taking one last glance at him, you turned down the hall, nodding determined.

-

Walking into the room, you smiled upon the sight of your friends and father okay. Making a beeline for your father, you smiled at the sight of him and Abby, happy to see things were still going well there. When he caught sight of you, he hesitated, shaking his head. “I-”

Holding your hand up, you smiled; “no need to thank me.” Kane chuckled, shaking his head at your behaviour. Hearing a beep from the radio, you turned to Octavia in alarm. As someone who’d helped craft the plan, Harper signalling Octavia first wasn’t part of it. “OKS, come in.” You heard her voice, but it sounded hushed.

“What is it?” Lincoln asked.

“This wasn’t part of the plan.” You answered, shaking your head. Octavia nodded, pulling out the radio as she panted; “we used their frequency so they could hear us.” She explained for you, before pressing the button on the radio and bringing it up to her lips. “Go ahead.”

“Stay right where you are.” Harper whispered and your heart plummeted; “repeat stay where you are. The exit is not clear.”

“How many guards?”

“Too many,” Harper replied. “I said stay put.”

Looking around, you stood straight, trying to think of what to do. Before Monty’s voice echoed over the radio; “calling all guards. The prisoners are headed for the main gate. Repeat main gate.” You paused, unsure if you had heard those words right. Had Monty just helped you all?

“That was Monty.” Octavia breathed, and you nodded, still not quite believing it yourself.

“Guess he’s with us after all.” Miller stated, and you turned to look at him. It seemed that maybe you should’ve listened to him earlier... 

“Pike will find out.” 

“We don’t know that.” You argued, turning to your father. “We have to move, now.” You reminded in a rush, this was possibly your only chance and you needed to take it. Monty had given you leeway, better not waste it. Looking over Octavia, she nodded at you and soon enough you all began rushing through the halls. 

-

“Go, go, go.” Your father rushed, pushing Harper and Miller through. Looking around you, you looked for guards, pacing on your feet. A voice over the P.A. caught your attention, and you paused, handing one of your bags over to Miller to take. Kane turned to you, signalling you to go in. “You’re next, go Y/N.” Taking a look back, you nodded, finally stepping through into the small space. Your father smiled at you and you accepted the bag he offered.

“Go Abby,” Kane started ordering, “you’re next.”

“Abby,” you called, signalling her in with a confused glance when she didn’t take the step forward. “Come on.”

When you saw she wasn’t coming, you looked up at your father only to see him already stepping towards her. Looking down at your hands, you silently listened to their conversation. “I’m not going,” she sighed. “They need someone to show them the way out of the dark.”

Your attention was turned upwards when your father leaned towards Abby, bringing his lips to hers. Your eyes widened in shock at his forcefulness, and despite the moment let a smile slip through your lips as you rejoiced in his happiness. Part of it stung, seeing him kiss another woman than your own mother, but if it made him happy, you didn’t so much mind. You couldn’t remember the last time you saw him so happy.

“May we meet again.” Kane whispered. 

“We will.” You watched her walk off, your gaze falling on your father who stared after her. Stepping out of the small space, you walked over to him; “you okay?” Kane turned to you, seemingly snapping out of his thoughts before nodding, sending a small smile. “Yeah, yeah.”

Your attention was brought to Octavia and Lincoln who stepped over to you two. Leaning down, you listened to Pike’s voice as it came on the radio; “I have a message for the traitors of Arkadia. There will be an execution today. Either turn yourselves in, or the other grounder prisoners will die in your place.” Your gaze slowly moved up to Lincoln as he turned to Octavia, you bit your lip knowing what he was about to do. 

Octavia quickly grabbed ahold of Lincoln, “let’s go.” She rushed, only for Lincoln to step aside, towards the direction back to Pike. Clenching your fists, you shook your head repeatedly.

Octavia turned back to Lincoln, grabbing his wrist in panic; “no, wait.”

“I can’t let them die because of me.” Lincoln shook his head, staring down at Octavia with regret but determination. Stepping back, you respectively let them hash this out. It was undoubtedly the brave thing to do, and you knew no matter how hard Octavia fought, Lincoln was going to sacrifice himself.

“Lincoln please,” Octavia pleaded. “We’re almost out.”

Kane stepped forward; “I know what you’re feeling, but they’re searching the station. We need to go now.”

Lincoln nodded slowly, “you should.” 

“Fine, i’m going with you.” Octavia declared before she said something in grounder tongue, looking back at your father, you shook your head. Lincoln leaned forward, once again nodding as his hand fell to Octavia’s chin, rubbing his thumb over it softly. “I love you,” he whispered. He brought his lips down on hers, and you looked away just for a moment only to hear Octavia utter a soft plea of no.

Turning around you saw Octavia in Lincoln’s arms, passed out; “what are you doing?”

“Same thing you’d do for your people. Just get her out of here.” Lincoln slowly passed Octavia over to your father, and you swallowed a lump in your throat, trying to bite back the tears. You watched your father stepped through the small passage way, uttering something to Lincoln in grounder tongue.

“Lincoln,” you called, finally speaking. He turned to you and you offered a small reassuring smile, “thank you.”

Watching his back, you once again watched another figure disappear before your eyes. “Y/N.” You heard and turning, you saw Kane signal you to come through. You nodded, letting your gaze falling in the direction Lincoln had gone one last time. Stepping through the passage way, you slowly closed it, trying to be as quiet as possible. Taking a deep breath, you stepped forward. 

You’d managed to get away, but at what cost?

-

Hugging your jacket closer to yourself, you didn’t dark look up at Bellamy who you knew was there. Instead, you gaze at the ground, following your father’s footsteps. Octavia walked in behind you, and you wouldn’t lie and say you weren’t scared of what would happened between the two Blake siblings. As much as you hated yourself for saying it, and wanted to say it wasn’t true, Bellamy was just as responsible for the death of Lincoln as Pike was.

You stopped just beside Kane, everything in slow motion as Octavia stalked by you. Finally looking up, you watched Bellamy as he stared at the entrance of the cave, willing just one more person walk through. When no one came, Bellamy’s panicked eyes looked across the cave. “Where’s Lincoln?”

“Pike put a bullet in his brain.” You closed your eyes at the sound of Octavia’s raw voice, rough around the edges.

“O- O-” Bellamy started, stumbling over his own two feet. “I’m so sorry-”

You flinched when Octavia whipped around, not even giving time for Bellamy to finish his sentence before her fist landed across his cheek. Biting your lip, you couldn’t tear your eyes away as she continued hitting him, every emotion fumbling out at once.

“Octavia,” you father dared to speak up. “That’s enough.”

Bellamy shocked you with his next words; “Kane. Stay out of this.” You winced every time her fist landed on Bellamy, shaking your head as blood started to seep from his nose and mouth. Your heart dropped at the sound of her sobs and his grunts of pain as whatever had been left of their relationship was shredded.

Miller stepped up, seeming to not be able to take it anymore. “Alright, That’s enough.” Octavia only retaliated on him shoving him away aggressively.

“Miller, stay back!” Bellamy pleaded.

Octavia screamed, lashing out her fist so hard Bellamy fell to the ground. Your hand found your face, shaking it as you turned. You could hear Octavia panting, and another grunt before all sounds of punching stopped. Looking up at the entrance of the cave, you listened to her next words carefully; “you’re dead to me.”

When you dared to look back at Bellamy, the only thing you saw was the image of a bloody, broken expression.

-

“Bellamy, it’s Monty.” Upon hearing Monty’s voice, your gaze fell to the radio beside you. “I’m in trouble. Please say you still have your radio.”

Sinclair grabbed it from your hands, blocking Kane from grabbing it himself. “If we respond and Pike’s listening-” he warned, before Bellamy spoke up. “Go to channel seven.” He offered numbly, you looked up from Sinclair over to him. “ ‘Please say you still have your radio.’ That’s seven words after trouble. It’s code. Go to seven.”

“He could be telling the truth.” You offered, seeing the looks of uncertainty around you. Looking at your father, you nodded as he reluctantly told Sinclair to continue. Sinclair switched it to channel seven before handing it over to Kane who placed it in his lap unsure.

“Bellamy, are you there?” Monty spoke up again.

“Monty,” you father finally replied. “It’s Kane. What’s wrong?”

“Pike knows that I helped you get out.”

“Can you get to the drop-ship?”

“I think so,” he responded slowly.

“Good. Go there. I’ll bring you in.” Your father informed. “Stay off the radio. Over and out.”

“Hold on,” Harper interrupted. “What if it’s a trap and Pike’s there waiting?”

“That’s why i’m going alone.”

You immediately stood up, ready to argue before Octavia beat you to it; “like hell you are.” She spat, cleaning off her sword.

Turning to your father, you raised your chin defiantly; “i’m not letting you go alone.”

“I’m with Octavia and Y/N,” Miller spoke, standing up and prepping his gun. “Monty saved our lives. I’m going to.”

“No, you’re not.” Kane declared. “If it is a trap, i’m not marching our entire insurgency into it.”

“To stop me you’re gonna have to kill me.” Looking over at Octavia, you emotionlessly looked back at your father, shrugging when he raised an eyebrow at you. “I’m with her.”

“Octavia hopes it’s a trap.” Bellamy uttered, making your attention snap over to him. “He’s coming too.” Octavia declared. “We need a hostage to trade for Monty.” You stayed silent, regrettably agreeing. It made sense and oddly no part of you really felt guilty for treating him like a stranger and hostage, but it also felt strange. There had once been a time where you never even thought of doing this, and if you had you would’ve considered it crazy, now it seemed the best idea you’d heard in a while.

“It’s a good idea. He stays chained.” Your father complied, before hesitating. “And gag him.”

Miller stepped forward; “sir, with all due respect-” He seemed Miller didn’t quite agree with the decision either. But your father cut him off before he could continue; “he’s the enemy. Do what I said.”

He’s the enemy... Looking back at Bellamy, you meant his gaze. It took every bit of your willpower to believe that statement.

-

Stepping through the gates to the drop-ship, you held your gun high, your heartbeat racing. Part of you thought it typical that the place you traded Bellamy would be back at the drop-ship, where your friendship with him had first started. But you shook those thoughts away, knowing it not to be the time and instead focused on searching around the camp with guarded eyes.

“Monty?” You father called. You received no response, and after a moment of waiting you stepped forward Octavia and Kane following. “We got here first,” you stated.

“No, we didn’t.” Octavia suddenly mumbled, shoving Kane away from Bellamy to place her sword against his neck. Confused, you kept your gun up, looking around as you hesitated.

“Hey! What are you doing?” 

“Get outside... now!” Octavia bellowed and your eyes flew to the drop-ship doors. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you tensed your stance, preparing for the worst outcome as you watched carefully. Eventually the curtain moved, revealing Monty’s face. Not taking the moment to be relieved he looked okay, you kept your eyes on the drop-ship, willing more to step out.

You were right when Monty stepped fully out, followed by a gun that led to Pike. You tried to contain the anger you felt at the sight of him, not even beginning to imagine what Octavia felt, and stayed focus.

“They followed me,” Monty explained, his voice shaky. “I’m sorry.”

“Let him go, Pike!”

“Can’t do that,” Pike stated, and you felt your heart beat quicken. “One at their feet.” You jumped when a gunshot landed right beside your foot, flinching slightly. You didn’t hesitate to move back into position, gun raised. “It’s over. Put down your weapons.” Pike finished, pressing the gun harder against Monty’s back.

“Shoot him,” Octavia told Kane, and just by looking through your own gun, you knew your father couldn’t, no matter how skilled he was.

“Monty’s in the shot.”

“Come on, Marcus.” Right after his words another gunshot landed, this time beside your father. Taking a deep breath, your grip on your gun tightened. “I promised Monty’s mother i’d bring him home alive. Don’t make me a liar.”

Your father shocked you when after a few seconds he lowered his gun, pulling it over his head. “Dad,” you whisper-shouted. “What are you doing?”

“Kane, no.” Octavia panicked.

Your father threw his gun beside him, raising his hands. Looking at him for guidance, he only nodded; “drop your gun, Y/N.” Shaking your head, you looked back through your gun, contemplating if you should just take the shot. It would be risky, but it was better than surrendering everything you’ve worked for.

“I’ll shoot him in the head, Y/N.” Pike warned, “I know you don’t want that.” Turning your head in thought, your eyes fell on Monty’s scared face, regretting the thought that crossed your mind. The thought that ultimately decided your next actions.

Sighing, you aggressively ripped the gun over your head, chucking it to your side before raising your hands in surrender. You hated yourself for it, but even if Monty had done some terrible things, he didn’t deserve to die. Plus he’d saved your life before.

Pike turned to Octavia, “now you.”

Taking a step around Bellamy, Octavia moved her knife more dangerously against his neck, defying Pike. Kane’s breath quickened as he whispered; “what are you doing?”

“One in the girls leg.”

Flinching, you turned to see Bellamy had flipped his lethal position around with Octavia, her being forced on her knees. You winced at the awkward position he had her wrist bent, but lowered your gaze when you realized that it was done. Guards came out, surrounding you three as they stepped up against you all. Snarling at the guard before you, you let him tie your hands together knowing better when a gun was pointed at your face.

Soon enough, your wrists were restrained, the gun still pointed at your face as Pike stepped towards Bellamy. You tried to hide the disappointment you felt at Bellamy betraying you all once again, but reminded yourself that you shouldn’t have thought any differently. He was the enemy.

“You don’t look so good,” Pike commented, viewing Bellamy’s beaten face.

“I’m fine.”

“You got about five seconds to make me believe you’re still with me.” 

You held your breath, staring at the back of Bellamy’s head as you willed him not to say it. But you felt your heart break even more as he leaned towards Pike, whispering; “all the others are in a cave not too far from here.” Grunting, you struggled in your restraints, just the same as Octavia.

“You son of a bitch!” She bellowed, falling to her knees as she was hit by a shock-lasher.

Pausing in your defiance, you looked back at the guard before you, following down his arm to see his own shock-lasher. Narrowing your eyes, you took a step back, watching as he turned it off. 

“Give me the coordinates.”

“Bellamy,” you whispered, waiting for him to turn to look at you. Once his eyes fell on you, you softened your look. Looking at him with vulnerability only he’s seen, you looked pleadingly at him; “don’t.” Your felt yourself go completely still when he only ignored your plea, turning back to Pike.

“I don’t have coordinates. But I can take you there.”

-

“Hold on.”

You reluctantly stopped behind the guard in front of you, running your tongue along the gag in your mouth in discomfort. You looked around, trying to see what had made Pike stop. Looking ahead, Bellamy stepped forward, pointing forwards; “the caves just on the other side.”

You heard a rustle, making your eyes snap up from the restraints on your wrists to around you. Furrowing your brows, you hesitated.

“Keep a sharp eye out.”

Soon enough, you stepped forward, walking down the path and trying to ignore the gun pressed against your back. Though as soon as Bellamy made it to the bottom on the hill before you, a horn blew, making you jump. Looking up around you, you paused, trying to figure out what was happening.

“The blockade!” Pike declared, “anybody got eyes?” No one answered, and you let your eyes fall across the tree tops to see if you could see anybody. “Back up! Back to higher ground!”

“Drop your weapons.” You whipped around at the sound of Bellamy’s voice, only to find him pointing Pike’s own gun at, well, Pike’s head. Your eyes widened with shock, as Pike’s face contorted into confusion and betrayal as well. “What the hell are you doing?!”

“Drop your weapon!”

Noticing the guards moment of dumbfoundness, you turned to the guard behind you, smacking your fist against his stomach. He groaned in pain, leaning over and you kicked the guard beside you before he could do anything. Soon enough yourheard Bellamy call out again; “we bring you Chancellor Pike of the sky people.” He announced, “O, translate.”

Octavia listened, pulling the gag from her lips as she yelled something in grounder tongue.

Once she was finished, Pike turned to Bellamy. “You’ve killed us all.”

“Take him, lift this blockade.” Octavia was quick to translate.

An arrow suddenly shot through the sky, hitting the guard beside you. More followed, knocking out the enemies beside you as grounders began running in from the trees, surrounding you all. Your head turned every which way, watching in bewilderment as you were completely surrounded. 

A scream tore through the silence and you turned to see Octavia ready to stab a knife in Pike but your father caught her wrist, pushing her back. “Hey, no.” He mumbled through the gag, before pulling it off. “No. The grounders are gonna need him alive. They didn’t get justice for Finn. We won’t get away with that again.”

“In that case-” Pike took a threatening step towards Bellamy before an arrow hit him in the chest, knocking him to the ground. A grounder stepped forward, kicking him twice in the face before completely knocking him out cold. Then a larger group stepped forward, hefting his unconscious body up.

“Where are you taking him?” Your father asked.

“To the new Commander.”

“May I join you?” Your father asked, and you stepped forward in alarm. Kane managed to get his wrist restraints off, pulling up his sleeve to show the sigil from before. “We’re the thirteenth clan.”

“Don’t slow us down.”

“Dad,” you mumbled in alarm, muffled through the gag. You went to pull it off before hands grabbed ahold of it for you, stunned you looked up only to see Bellamy. He softened his eyes, telling you it was okay as he slowly pulling the gag off your lips. Panting, you slowly nodded at him, before turning back to Kane. “Are you sure? We know nothing about the new Commander.”

“I’m sure,” he reassured, smiling. “Go home. Tell our people what happened here. Tell Abby i’ll look out for Clarke.” You hated leaving him, but reluctantly you nodded. 

Stepping away, you left Bellamy with your father, slumping against a tree. Your head fell in your hands, mentally exhausted. Staring down at your restrained wrists, you realized you’d forgotten about it getting someone to untie them. “Allow me.” A shadow fell over you, and sure enough Bellamy was back before you, kneeling down in front of you. You hesitantly looked up at him, flinching your hands away by habit when he reached out for them.

“I won’t hurt you.” The sentence was ironic enough, as all Bellamy had been doing for the past bit was hurt you. But sighing, you reluctantly let him cut the ropes in half. Once they were gone, you rubbed at the burn marks on your wrists. 

You weren’t sure what to say to Bellamy, he felt like a stranger to you now. But still you knew you should at least say something. So slowly looking up, you met his eyes, “thank you.” You muttered, knowing he knew what you meant.

“I’m so-”

“Not now, Bellamy.” You interrupted, shaking your head. “It won’t matter. I don’t know if it ever will.”

[kpopaganda]

Allied, Part 8

Group: GOT7

Member: Jackson

POV: 1st Person

Type: Angst/Fluff/Series/Other

Word Count: 3,151

Summary: The world is in turmoil. There are few functioning governments left and an incurable disease has wiped out most of the human population. It’s every man for himself until you find an ally who becomes more.

Parts: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15

I felt worn out when I woke up. My eyes took a long time to focus and when they finally did, I found myself in an unfamiliar dark room. Panic almost set in again before I realised that Jackson was carrying me before I blacked out. He must have brought me here, wherever here was.

I sat up slowly, rubbing at my eyes that burned a little. My body was sore all over. I was on a bare mattress underneath a worn out comforter. It was still more comfortable than any of the sleeping arrangements I’d had recently, but being in a strange room was still very unnerving.

Getting up slowly, I walked towards the only window in the room, a window that was covered with a thick blanket. I debated whether or not to pull the blanket back and peek outside. The room I was in was pitch black so no one would be able to see in anyway. I decided to go ahead.

We were up quite high, at least six storeys. From that height, I could see a fair amount of the city around us, but only as far as some higher buildings that blocked my view. The city looked like it was on fire. Fires from the streets below lit up the night sky in a soft orange hue that almost reminded me of a sunset. But this was nothing like a sunset. Everything felt much more sinister and knowing that there were people who started those fires made my stomach twist uncomfortably.

Quickly letting the blanket fall back into place, I started looking for the door.

There was a very small combined living and kitchen area right outside of the bedroom I was in. Jackson was sat on the couch with his head in his hands. His posture was pitiful. The sight made me want to wrap my arms around him and squeeze until he smiled again, but I didn’t have it in me to initiate something like that. He lifted his head when he heard the bedroom door open and was on me in four long strides, arms wrapping around me and pulling me against him. I guess I didn’t need to be the one to initiate anything. 

“I’m so glad you’re awake,” he said into my hair.

I still wasn’t entirely sure how to feel about his affection just yet, but I wrapped my arms around him nonetheless. It felt undeniably good and comfortable to hold him like this.

“How are you feeling?” he asked when he pulled away.

He didn’t let go of me completely. His one hand rested against my face, his thumb gently stroking my cheek, while the other hand held onto my arm. It really seemed like he didn’t want to let go of me.

“I’m fine,” I rasped. “I promise. I just got a little freaked out back there.”

“It’s easy to let this city get to you,” an unfamiliar voice said off to the side.

It belonged to a young man. He had dark hair and an even darker look in his eye. He didn’t look like much of a threat, but he radiated a powerful aura that had me on guard. When I didn’t respond to his comment, he walked closer and held out a hand.

“Jaebum,” he said.

I shook his hand. “Y/N.”

He smiled. “I already know. Jackson wouldn’t stop worrying about you.”

“She was out cold, man,” Jackson tried to defend himself.

It may have just been the warm light seeping in from the world outside, but I could have sworn I saw a blush tinge his cheeks.

“Where are we?” I asked Jackson.

“This is Jaebum’s apartment. Kind of.”

“It’s more like a safe house,” Jaebum explained. “I don’t own it or anything. There are a few other people who live in this building and we have a kind of agreement about who gets to sleep where.”

I looked back out of the open sliver of window. “How high up are we?”

“We’re on the seventh floor.”

I took a seat on the couch. It was old and patched up haphazardly, but it would do. I still didn’t feel too great. It had been a really long time since I’d been that close to a sick person. Her face was etched into my brain like a horror movie on loop. Something like that wasn’t easy to forget.

“Thank you, Jaebum,” I said. “Seriously.”

His smile was slight but genuine. “You’re welcome.”

Jackson thanked Jaebum as well before taking a seat next to me on the couch. 

“Can I make you guys something to eat?” Jaebum offered.

“We’d never say no,” Jackson answered for the both of us.

As Jaebum busied himself in the small kitchen, the reality of our situation settled over me once more. Jackson was dead set on getting to China and even if he never said so, I knew he was hoping I would go with him. In the short while I’ve known him it was pretty easy to figure out that he didn’t do well on his own. He loved talking too much and he thrived on touch. As endearing as all that was, I didn’t think I could continue travelling with him like that. My loner instincts just wouldn’t let me. I just needed him to get me out of the city in one piece. After that, it would be easier for us to go our separate ways.

“So what’s the plan?” I asked him.

“We keep going North until we’re out, I guess,” he said. “We’ll figure out what the next step is after that.”

“You guys are heading for the northern checkpoint?” Jaebum asked as he handed us each a bowl of noodles. 

I don’t think I’ve ever drooled over ramen like that. I breathed a quick thank you before tucking in like a wild animal.

“Yeah,” was Jackson’s garbled answer through a mouth full of food. He apparently had the same thought process as me.

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” Jaebum said, blowing on his food before tucking in, unlike us.

“Why not?” I asked, momentarily forgetting about my food.

“The place is a war zone. They have at least three explosions a week and even firefights on some occasions. Civilians generally steer clear of the entire northern border. Half of the time there aren’t even any soldiers to let you through the checkpoint because they’re too busy trying not to die.”

“Whoa,” Jackson said, a string of noodles hanging from his mouth.

“Who’s responsible for the explosions, though?” I asked.

“Rebels,” Jaebum answered easily. “There’s a group operating inside the city who are trying to seize power from the military.”

“Why would they do that?”

“Plenty of reasons. Politics, greed, stupidity... Some people even believe they’re out to stir up trouble because they’re bored. I personally believe they’re fighting for change. They saw that the system in place wasn’t working and stepped up to fix it. It’s all pretty interesting, really.”

“How do you know all this?” I asked.

“I was one of them.”

“So you helped set up explosions?” I asked Jaebum the next day.

“A few,” he said nonchalantly as he climbed over a chain link fence leading into a narrow alleyway. 

I shot Jackson a look of concern and he shrugged. I couldn’t believe he wasn’t taking this more seriously. We were in the company of a terrorist and he was acting like we were on our way to get ice cream with an old friend.

Jackson helped me over the fence without me having to ask and then he jumped over to join us on the other side. Jaebum was showing us around the neighbourhood, helping us figure out the road we’d be taking to get out of the city. The plan to get out through the northern checkpoint was a bust, so our next best bet was to exit through the west via the river, but that wouldn’t be easy either. As the main waterway through the city, it was under constant guard. There was no safe way of travelling along the riverbank, but going by boat would make us incredibly visible. There was no way of guaranteeing we could find a working boat in the first place.

We made our way through the alleyway. There were all kinds of debris littered throughout and wooden pallets pushed up against the walls to clear a path. If they went to that kind of trouble, they could have taken down the fence we had to vault over as well. Jaebum led us out of the alley into the street. 

There were more people around, mulling about and walking along small groups. We walked against the current of people in the direction of a large, dilapidated building. It looked like an old market. A few people set up small stalls outside where they sold fresh fruits and vegetables. Others sold more unsettling merchandise like extreme looking weapons and murky-looking liquids in small phials. I didn’t really want to find out what they were for.

Jaebum sped up his pace once we were inside the crowd. Jackson followed suit, grabbing my hand and pulling me along with them. I appreciated the gesture, not wanting to get lost in the throng of people. We entered the building and jogged up two flights of stairs before we started to slow down. There were fewer people up there with us, but the halls were darker and cold. The windows were boarded up. Why would the windows be boarded up on the third floor?

“Over here,” said Jaebum, leading us to an inconspicuous door at the end of the hall.

He opened it for us to go in first, checking no one followed us before closing it behind him and locking it. It was a pretty nondescript room. The lighting was dim and there was a table in the middle. It looked like any kind of storeroom otherwise, the walls lined with wooden crates stacked so high they almost touched the ceiling. They were all marked with the logo of an old supermarket chain. I’d bet money that there weren’t groceries inside.

Jaebum pulled a smaller crate from one of the piles and carried it over to the table. I noticed that it didn’t have the logo on it. He opened it, stuck his hand into the packing peanuts and pulled out a gun.

Jackson and I both took a step back.

“What the fuck?”

Jaebum looked at us like there was absolutely nothing off about him casually pulling out a gun. 

“What?”

Jackson’s eyes were wide as he kept them on Jaebum. “Is this whole room full of guns?”

“Not just guns,” said Jaebum far too nonchalantly. “There are some grenades and a mortar somewhere in here too.”

“Again,” I said. “What the fuck?”

“You’re going to need something to protect yourselves. How else do you guys expect to get out of the city in one piece?”

“We were thinking stealthily. This,” I say as I gesture around the room. “Is as far from stealth as it can get.”

Jaebum puts the gun down on the table between us and levels me with his intense stare.

“I don’t think you guys quite understand how insane this city is. You’ve barely glimpsed it. It’s not just sick people and rebels. What’s left of the army inside the city has all the power. The rebels aren’t the bad guys here. I know that’s what you think because I told you about the bombs, but it’s nothing compared to what the military has done. They’re completely out of line. You’re not getting out of this city in one piece if you’re not armed.”

Jackson was tense beside me. We should have never come to the city. We should have just gone around like I insisted at first. Now we were stuck in a proverbial hell hole with a radical watching over us. The circumstances weren’t ideal at all.

Jaebum laid out a selection of guns. None of them was very large, but they were intimidating nonetheless. I watched Jackson reach out tentatively to pick one up. He turned it around in his hand to look at it, keeping his fingers as far away from the trigger as possible. It probably wasn’t loaded, but it was always better to be safe than sorry. I would have handled it the same if it were me.

“Have you used one of those?”

Jackson and I both look at Jaebum. Jackson shakes his head.

Jaebum smiles almost softly. “That’s a semi-automatic pistol. Most of these are. This one,” he says as he picks up a gun with a long narrow barrel. “Is a revolver. A Colt to be more specific. It’s not as fast as the one you’re holding, but it packs a punch.”

“Which of them is better then?” asks Jackson.

“They’re both good in their own way. I’d say the pistol is a better all rounder. The revolver is for emergencies only. At least that’s how I use it. It’s been pretty useful moving through the city so far.”

My eyebrows shoot up. “You’ve used it in the city before?”

“Of course. I didn’t want to die.”

Of course, I think. It would be necessary.

“Have you made up your minds yet?”

Jackson and I turn to look at each other. Not a word is exchanged between us, but I think we both know what is going to happen in the near future and we have to plan for that.

It’s almost dawn. The sky is just beginning to get a semblance of daytime colour and the world is still, except for the quiet swoosh of the water beneath our boat.

It took us two days to plan this “escape”. Jaebum handled most of the logistics and even took care of us while we stayed in the city. For a while I was convinced it was a trap of some kind, but before long I realised that Jaebum wasn’t just doing it for us. He wanted out of the city too.

So we stocked up on food, ammo, and other supplies, and found a usable boat that could get us just far enough up the river where we would be outside the military’s reach and jurisdiction. It seemed like it could work, but I never took into account how open we’d be in the middle of the river. Anyone on the banks could spot us easily. There weren’t any other moving boats, just half-sunken wrecks abandoned along the length of it. 

We were well and truly sitting ducks.

Jackson and Jaebum were rowing. Using the motor would just draw attention to us quicker, so that was only to be used once we were almost out or in the event of an emergency. It was my job to keep an eye out for any obstacles or other problems.

We were just passing underneath a bridge when I spotted the first signs of trouble.

“Patrols,” I whispered furiously. “Up ahead. Over on the left bank.”

The guys stopped rowing immediately, pulling their paddles in close to them and lying down in the boat. I did the same, except I kept a hand near the motor in case we had to make a getaway. Our boat was quietly drifting past an old sunken tourist boat and I hoped desperately that it might disguise us somehow. 

It seemed to work. No one was looking in our direction, but I was afraid that if they did, the movement of the boat would give us away. So we hung tight. None of us moved. We stayed perfectly still for what felt like forever. Eventually, the boat drifted past where I spotted them on its own and we were still alive. Jaebum was the first to check if we were safe. He lifted his head just enough to peek over the side of the boat and when he sighed before sitting up again, I took a deep breath.

“I think we’re clear,” he said, making me and Jackson sit up too.

It wasn’t two seconds later that we were blinded by a bright light.

“Stop right there!” ordered a voice over a loudspeaker and I felt my heart leap into my throat.

“Motor!” I heard Jaebum scream. “Now!”

I was already freaking out trying to get the motor going, pulling furiously at the chain, but it wasn’t taking. Jackson pushed me out of the way and started it on the first yank.

“Stop!” yelled the loudspeaker voice again, but we were already taking off in the opposite direction.

Then the sound of gunfire rang out around us.

We tried taking cover against the side of the boat as best as we could, returning fire as we went, but it didn’t mean much when they were damaging the boat. The sound of gunfire was so intense, we barely registered the sound of the motor or the shouting coming from the patrol. I felt a bullet fly through the hull just above my head and felt the water start to pour in. Jackson tried to steer the boat from the floor, but he couldn’t see where we were going, so he sat up again, driving us in behind wrecks and trying to lose the cars up on the shore. Luckily there was more debris on the road along the river and they started falling behind pretty fast. We didn’t look back. Jackson kept us going until we were finally outside the city limits. The boat was still rapidly filling with water and I hoped we would make it somewhere safe to stop soon. 

Jackson took us another few miles away, where the water was clearer of wrecks and the concrete banks turned into dirt before we went ashore.

The sun was up then, but only barely. When I saw the state of our boat in the light I realised we were lucky to even be alive. We clambered out and left it right there in the dirt. I was wringing out the bottoms of my jeans when I heard Jaebum cheer and couldn’t help but smile.

“We made,” he yelled. “We made it! We’re out of that fucking city! I’m finally out!”

He clapped Jackson on the shoulder and I watched Jackson’s happy expression twist into one of pain. Jaebum pulled his hand back like Jackson had burnt him and immediately apologised.

“What’s wrong?” I asked as I approached Jackson.

“It’s nothing,” he said, but anyone could hear the strain in his voice.

It was then that I looked at the shoulder Jaebum hit and saw a dark patch on the outside of his jacket. I pulled back his jacket to get a look at the damage and gasped when I saw, not one, but two large blood stains spreading across his shoulder and abdomen.

“You’ve been shot.”

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