#because he already both threw his life away for wilson and also kept going for wilson. its a constant in the show not exclusive to S8 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

snootsnoot-fiction · 3 years ago

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Your Gentleman

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: None really

A/n: My first marvel fic yay!!! I love that it’s Bucky as well☺️ This is a birthday gift for my dear friend who I love @inthatmomentwewereinfinite 🎉🎉🎉 you’re honestly one of the nicest people on the planet, I hope you have the best day you can ❤️

Summary: You haven’t seen Bucky in years…

The life of one James Buchanan Barnes was quite the tragedy. At least for the most part.It was a long, involuntary life, but to say he wouldn’t be the least bit grateful for the majority time skip would be a lie. Oh, there were things “Bucky” Barnes missed of course, but there was plenty to make up for it.

The man thought he would lead a simple life; serve in the war, get married with Steve as his best man, maybe even die of old age. A far cry from the fate that really awaited him, for he found himself being part of the Red Skull’s experiment. An experiment that began his journey as who would infamously be known as The Winter Soldier.

~~~~~

You were quite the artist to say the least. You lived and enjoyed a fairly quiet life as well. That’s not to say your talents weren’t sought out, for you were also quite the fashion designer. Sometimes you would simply consult. Create and draw up a design for someone else to make. Occasionally you would make the pieces yourself. It was an interesting way of making money, and you were happy to keep living your quiet life - your involvement usually kept secret in some way at your request.

Needless to say, one of the biggest things you ever worked on was the new suit for Captain America. You found his tale fascinating. You knew of the man, but it wasn’t until you heard he was back that you looked into him a little more. Strange things seemed to be happening more often.

The detail of his best friend’s supposed ‘death’ was another thing that interested you, but all anyone could assume was he actually was dead now. It didn’t stop you from wondering though.

You did work on occasion for people such as The Avengers, but aside from that, you were a normal citizen. So to say you were surprised when you caught the eye of Mr Barnes in modern day was an understatement.

Recognising him immediately, you weren’t sure what to do. He looked beyond exhausted, and it was clear to you he was trying to keep his head down. The man carried on, and despite thinking you probably shouldn’t, you followed. The next thing you knew, a cold arm was pinning you against a wall as the one and only James Barnes stared at you. Up close, his eyes looked even tireder, and you could see just how rough a state he was in.

“Why are you following me?” He huffed out. Anyone could see how tense he was. Almost afraid.

“I’m no-one I swear! I just recognised you and got curious… you’re Bucky?” He slowly let you go, but remained tense. “I don’t even know what happened… you look awful…” you frowned slightly as you gave him a proper look. You really had no idea what was going on, but you felt bad for him. Whatever happened to this man, you were glad to not know right now.

~~ a few months later ~~

You wondered how people would react to finding out about you helping ‘The Winter Soldier’. The thought made you nervous sometimes, but you knew what you were doing to be right. Something in you from the moment you met him told you he himself was at no fault, but of course, not everyone would see it that way.

The day you met him, you had ended up giving him a fresh change of clothes that would help him to blend in more. You had offered more, even a meal, but trust would take time to build, and he didn’t want to stick around you too long.

‘Too many innocent people…’ was all he muttered before giving thanks and leaving without a word.

‘I’m happy to help…’ you hadn’t been sure if he even heard you, but surprisingly it wasn't long before you saw him again; with time, the two of you built a sense of trust. Bucky would never stay too long, but when he did you would allow him to use your own facilities if he needed, You would make him a warm meal almost every time, and give him another fresh change of clothes if he needed them.

Trust takes time though, and you didn’t know much of the story of why he was even here. You didn’t want to push or pry, but you couldn’t help but wonder sometimes.

Today was the day you’d learn.

The old soldier hesitantly stepped into your home. It always made you frown a little to see just how hesitant he was; whatever it was he was hiding from, you wish he didn’t have to.

“I know you don’t like to, but I made my sofa up for you just in case-”

“Sofa? The couch?” You went a little red and chuckled nervously.

“Yeah sorry, I didn’t grow up here..” and for the first time, you saw him smile. It was little, but it was there. It made your heart flutter just a bit, causing you to smile.

“I might take you up on that.” His words were quiet as he walked in to see the couch. You had set a single, plump pillow on one end, and laid your biggest blanket over the piece of furniture. Bucky had been so hesitant to talk even one word to anyone, nevermind taking refuge from someone, but he couldn’t even remember the last time he had a nice place or spot to sleep. Not only that, but you seemed genuine to him. Deep down he knew he could trust you. Your smile widened.

“Are you hungry?” At your question, he looked back at you with a small nod. The tired look in his eyes made you want to really look after him, but there was only so much you could do and you didn’t want to startle him.

That night, you sat on opposite ends of the couch as you ate a freshly cooked meal, some sitcom on the TV. Eventually you decided to ask him what had happened to land him here. There was no pressure to answer of course, and you were more than willing to forget you asked if he didn’t yet feel comfortable to tell his story… but he did. You listened patiently and quietly as Bucky talked about The Winter Soldier.

Little did you know just how far you had already fallen for this man.

~~ Avengers Civil War ~~

After hiding for so long, Bucky had to admit there was something refreshing about now being out in the open.Of course, the circumstances were most unfortunate, but whatever happened, he would no longer be in hiding. Therefore he wouldn’t be putting you in any more potential danger. The two of you had grown quite close, and if anything happened to you because of him, well.. he didn’t like to think about it.

People like himself existed and had been used to assassinate King T’Chaka, and now the group his best friend Steve had put together were trying to get to the guy behind all of this. Unfortunately Tony Stark had created an obstacle for them. The old soldier could see that both men were somewhat regretful, but firm in their beliefs. Before he knew it, the fighting had begun.

Bucky and Sam Wilson had hidden in the airport terminal to start when this kid in a red and blue costume came at them. Sam knocked the kid away, so Bucky ran after them, and when he reached them, he saw an opening and threw a chunk of metal at the weirdly flexible kid. Naturally this kid was able to throw it right on back before being tackled by Wilson again.

Reaching the both of them just in time, Bucky ran between them as the spider kid flung himself at Sam, landing both the men in the floor below and his metal arm in some sort of.. webbing. The old soldier hated the fact they ended up in this position because of a child who didn’t even sound as though he had hit puberty yet. That’s when the kid was thrown out the window by the little robot bird.

“You couldn’t have done that earlier?” he growled at Sam, genuinely annoyed with the guy.

“I hate you.” Bucky merely scoffed at the response. They were in the middle of something big, but for a brief moment he found it funny that Steve’s new friend was this guy of all people.

Despite all this, you were still there. In his mind. With everything now in the open, he hoped your part in all of this was still in the dark. He just wanted you safe. To live your life.

~~ present time ~~

To Bucky, it almost felt like his past had repeated somewhat; to skip from one time to the other was confusing and frustrating. At least this time around it wasn’t as far into the future as the last time.

For you, however, it was a lonely experience. With The Snap, you had stayed behind. You lived out those five years. You had found a connection with this older guy you absolutely adored, and then you find out he was snapped out of existence along with half the planet. Lonely was an understatement, especially at the start.

At least he didn’t physically die - a fact you turned out to be grateful for when suddenly all those who had been Snapped were back. Of course, you knew the type of life Bucky led beforehand, so you were still worried, but you hoped with time he would contact you again. That hopefully things had finally calmed down at least somewhat in the world now.

Meanwhile, in the last five years you had moved to New York. With half the world gone, work had been a difficult adjustment for everyone, and you decided to start your own little business in The Big Apple; a prime area for you. It was just a little fashion/clothing business, but it turned out well enough to keep you afloat. Business got quite busy when everyone reappeared. It was stressful at first, but you managed to hire a few other people that helped. You were even able to start taking a little time to yourself occasionally in all due time. Eventually it became the norm.

With business and the world calming down, Bucky Barnes had been on your mind recently. You wondered where he was, if he was alright.

You were in your store. It was a weirdly calm day today, so you sat on a chair behind the main cash register. You heard the door open, but by the time you looked up, the person had disappeared behind one of the clothing racks. You thought about keeping an eye on them, ready to get up if it looked like they needed assistance.

“I got ‘im.” One of your workers said from behind you, offering a smile as she walked past you.

“Thanks.” You smiled back, watching her hover near whoever the customer was before looking back down at the book in your hands. You seemed to get quite into the book, because before you knew it, a shadow stood over you, but you didn’t notice until he spoke.

“Hey..” the voice caused your heart to stop as your ears perked and a weird yet pleasant shiver flew down your spine. You knew that voice. You knew eventually you would see him again, but it was still a surprise.

Slowly, you closed the book, and your eyes dragged up until they were on that same face you had last seen way over five years ago now. His hair was short now, but it was him alright. It was Bucky.

The man offered a small smile and wave as you stared at him. You had no idea what to do.

“Uh.. this your place?”

“Yeah…”

“You’ve done well.”

“I’ve had a lot of time.” Your responses were automatic. Your mind was blank.

“Uuhh..”

“Bucky?” You stared at him with wide eyes, your voice triggered a slightly wider smile on his lips as he nodded.

“It’s been a while.” His words made you scoff loudly.

“You’re telling me!” The both of you chuckled. The last five years had felt so long for you, but the two of you were already falling back into your old dynamic.

“... Listen Y/N.. all that old stuff.. The Winter Soldier stuff… it’s gone now.” His words made you smile for him. You knew how much his past had troubled him. You doubted it was completely out of the way, but you knew what he meant.

“No more hiding?”

“No more hiding.” Bucky smiled, a look of genuine relief on his face.

Just then, a group of teen girls walked in and your smile disappeared for a moment.

“I’m at work. I’m the boss but I still gotta work, we can’t..”

“I know a place we can go to later if you want? Catch up?”

“I’d love to! I close up around six today, we can go after then.”

“Perfect! I’ll come back and we can walk there together.” You smiled and nodded, too shy to say anything else right now. Bucky smiled before turning around, looking back at you as he opened the door to leave. You gave him a little shy wave.

You spent the next few hours constantly thinking about Bucky and finally being able to see and talk to him again. Excited was an understatement. You were happy. Bucky was back. You were always too shy to say anything about what you felt, but absolute adoration was another understatement when it came to that man.

The clock had finally struck six. Your employees were now leaving, and you decided to check the store, make sure everything was alright before closing up. The same employee that had helped out earlier that day came up to you as you picked up your things.

“Your gentleman caller is waiting outside.” She had a knowing smile on her face. She even seemed kind of excited and she stood there and waited as you blushed.

“Thank you..” you attempted to avoid her gaze as you packed the rest of your things in your bag.

“I’ll tell him you won’t be long.” At that, you offered her a smile before she left and you took a moment to relax before following.

Bucky wasn’t right there as you left through the front, but when you turned back around after shutting and locking the place, there he was just a couple feet away from you. A small flower bouquet in his hand. Your heart melted at the sight.

“I know you’re not much of a flower person, but I wasn’t sure what else to do.. You know… with the time gap and all.. But these are your favourites.” Bucky looked almost nervous. You shyly stuck your hand out to take the bouquet, your fingers brushing against his as you did.

“They’re perfect, thank you.” A small smile tugged at your lips again as you looked at them before looking back to the man in front of you.

“I’ve missed you Y/N.”

“Me too.. You that is! I’ve missed you, not myself.” You blushed as Bucky chuckled at your flustered self. He then held out an arm.

“Shall we?” You hesitated before taking hold of his arm with your free hand, a feeling of happy warmth washing over you.

“We shall.”

Tagging; @blondekel77 @book-hoardingdragon @mandosmimi

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan fluff #bucky barnes #bucky barns x reader #bucky barnes fluff #the winter soldier #the winter soldier x reader #the winter soldier fluff

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shurisneakers · 4 years ago

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shut in [9]

Summary: When your high profile mission goes terribly wrong, you’re forced to hide in a safehouse with a man you’ve never met before. With seemingly nowhere else to go, you’re forced to work together to figure out who is trying to have you assassinated before it’s too late. (Sam Wilson x Reader, Hitman AU)

Warnings: cursing, anxiety, ptsd, shooting

Word count: 2.8k

A/N: ok ok ok ok sam deserves the world and im mad that he’s not getting it

i also appreciate feedback so if you would like to, please consider dropping me an ask or comment ly guys!!

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Previous Part || Shut In Masterlist

He was gone.

10:00am

Time had begun to slip past you. Days where you were forced to wake up at 4am were just a dreary memory you didn’t want to revisit. The rough shoves in the morning to have you awake enough to be in training by 4:30am only fell into the category of things you had forgotten over the time you had stayed here.

Maybe sleep wasn’t a luxury you weren’t allowed to afford.

10:30am

By the time you step into the kitchen, the loose structure of the day you had ahead of you was forming. Maybe if you revisited the small makeshift shooting range you had set up for Sam and you to practice. A couple of old soup cans, a flat boulder for them to sit on and you were good to go. He had allowed you to use his giant board for knife throwing too, laughed when you asked for permission before saying it was for the both of you.

You made a sandwich for yourself, forcing it down your throat with water. Bread was starting to feel like cardboard and the jam just tasted like nothing. Peanut butter was even worse.

Losing appetite wasn’t an option, even though it had eroded a while ago. The best option was to just scarf it down with water.

11:00am

Sam isn’t in the house, you had deduced. A morning run or maybe just some fresh air.

You checked for the notes he sometimes left for you when he went out. Something along the lines of when he’d be back, or why he’d left, or where you could find him.

You looked on top of the fridge where he generally left them; someplace he knew you’d see. You didn’t find one.

You shrugged it off.

Something felt wrong about the arrangement of the kitchen but you couldn’t place a finger on what it was. All the chairs were in its place, trash appropriately in the bin, no bowls were left from soup day in the sink to wash.

The origami swan you had made still rested next to his paper airplane. Nothing seemed wrong or out of place.

You pushed yourself to shake off the nerves, to get dressed instead. The shooting range was waiting for you.

12:45pm

When you shoot for thirty and get all thirty, it tends to get a little boring. Not that you were complaining; if even one was off you’d spend the whole day trying to make up for it.

Violent hobbies weren’t ideal. They weren’t even hobbies per se. Just skills you needed to keep sharp if you wanted to survive.

You even shot at the targets that you had hung up on the trees. Dangerous and completely Sam’s idea. Said the wind made them act like moving targets. Nevermind the possibility of a ricochet.

The target board was empty too. Admittedly, knife throwing was a little harder to get used than shooting to but it still only took a few tries before you were hitting bullseye over and over again.

There just wasn’t anything to do. And you realised it had been this way for a while but you never noticed due to his lively chatter or how competitive it got with stupid games you were making up as you went.

1:00pm

You learned against the counter as you ate, eyeing the room, trying to figure out what you had misplaced. The air was cold, even more so after the shower, so you threw on an extra t-shirt to aid you.

You made a noise of disapproval when you couldn’t find what was wrong. A quick wash of your hands before you made your way to the TV, fully intending to doze off while watching Megamind for the fourth time.

You passed by the mini fridge on the way, noting how you needed to restock the ice cubes when you suddenly stopped in your path.

Your eyes peeled back to the small paper bowl Sam had crafted expertly that was still somehow managing to stick together. But that was what was wrong.

The keys were missing.

The fucking car keys and the pocket change you had taken from Pierce’s house were no longer there.

Your body moved on autopilot, dragging you towards the front door. You yanked it open, door creaking under the pressure you applied on it.

Your heart sank.

The car was gone.

1:20pm

You had all the possibilities listed out in front of you with the rest scratched out after you had rationalised it.

Someone had come in and taken the car, which wasn’t likely.

Sam had stepped out but hadn’t mentioned it to you. If he did, why would he need the car?

Someone had abducted Sam, which was absurd on paper but still left a twinge of uncertainty because you couldn’t definitively rule it out.

He had just left. Decided he was done and left.

You stared at the last option.

“Fuck,” you cursed.

You could feel his muscle shift as he looked at you.

“What’s wrong?”

You opened your mouth but shut it again. How do you explain it to him without sounding utterly ridiculous?

You wondered if it was that conversation.

He wouldn’t leave after you told him, would he?

You hesitated before shaking your head.

He’d come back. He would.

1:45pm

You had added a few more possibilities to the list but discarded it almost immediately.

You now found a place in front of the TV, watching but not registering what was said. Your fingers kept itself busy by playing with the hem of your shirt. You had thrown another one on since his jacket was missing with the rest of him. It had gotten colder.

The woman droned on about how much her husband loved the recipe she was making. It was Sam’s favourite segment, not because it was particularly fantastic or anything, but because it gave him forty five minutes of free content to trash talk.

Your eyes kept glancing up at the clock. Was it broken or was time much slower than you initially thought?

You almost felt like you were in a cognitive dysfunction; you couldn’t do anything other than while away time till you figured out what had gone wrong.

2:00pm

If you weren’t paying attention, you wouldn’t have heard the soft crunch of twigs. The whirring of the wheels as it turned gently only made you sit up straight, hands on the gun that rested on the couch beside you.

It came to a stop. The gun was fully in your grip now, TV turned off to determine what the noises were.

It was the most agonisingly slow minute you spent listening as the car opened and shut, muffled by the distance. You were near the door, using the adjoining wall as a hideaway.

The doorknob shook as someone tried to push their way in.

“Sam?” you called out cautiously against your better judgement, mentally cringing.

It took a second for his reply to return.

“Hey, sweetheart. Let me in, will you? Stupid door’s not opening.”

Of course it wouldn’t. It was fingerprint activated.

Relief flooded your system, letting yourself hold the gun with only one hand as you hastily made your way to open the door.

However, you paused. As much as you wanted to fling the door open blindly, you waited, hand on the knob.

“Is someone out there with you?”

“What?” he sounded confused. “No, it’s just me.”

You opened the door slightly, peeking out through the sliver of open space.

Sure enough, it was only him. The car was returned to the same spot that it was.

“Where were you?” You yanked the door open. You sounded way more aggressive than you planned to, you were sure. It didn’t matter though.

“Went to the store,” he said nonchalantly, stepping inside, and dropping the keys back where they were.

“What?”

He was so relaxed about it, like it was nothing. It only irked you further than you already were.

“Drove the car till the highway, walked into town and went to the store.” He set the bag down. “What’d you do all day?”

“You went to the town,” you emphasised. “To the fucking store.”

“Yeah, I figured you would be up by the time I came back.”

“You were gone for hours.” You crossed your arms over your chest, fighting the urge to yell. You could talk it out calmly. You didn’t have to snap

You hoped he had a good reason. You sincerely hoped, for his well being and security, that he risked his life to go to public space.

“We’re way further out than you think. Nearest dollar store’s almost the next fuckin’ state if you’re walking. Had to ditch the car because it’s a little too flashy, even for me.” He lifted up the bag next to him. “Got us some ramen. And juice. That’s all we had cash for anyway.”

You stare at him, mouth slightly agape.

“You could have been seen, Sam,” your tone was corrosive, the next best you could do instead of yelling. “For all we know, you could have been followed.”

“No one followed me. I made sure.”

That did nothing to alleviate the anxiety that was crawling into your head.

“You’re ridiculous,” you muttered. “Fucking ridiculous.”

“Where are you going?” You ignored him, turning on your heel and walking to the bedroom. You didn’t care if it was his day that day. He could rot in the kitchen with his stupid ramen for all you cared.

You cursed as you slammed the door behind you, launching yourself onto the bed.

There was no denying you were relieved that he was still alive and here. But fuck him. Fucking dickhead.

Fucking juice.

You spent the next couple of hours feeling absolutely embarrassed for yourself. Why did you spend hours worrying if he was safe when he was out there, gallivanting in public for some stupid noodles?

Both of you could have been absolutely fucked if he wasn’t careful. He may have just jeopardised your entire set up.

But deep down, no matter how much it was annoying to acknowledge, you knew he wouldn’t have. He was smart, strategic.

Why would he do something like this?

How much you were worried scared you. There was no time where it had occurred that maybe you were in danger too. Every possibility you came up with only pushed the thought of him possibly in trouble further into your head.

But the more you spend time overthinking, the more you realised that him being in danger wasn’t the entire cause of your worry.

What if he didn’t come back? Why’d he come back?

He had the means to leave, the will to and clearly was able to go undetected for a while. He didn’t need to return, but he did.

And for what; to give you some food he bought from the dollar store.

He seemed excited about it too, before you had closed the door on his face and decided to spend the next few hours self-destructing.

Fucking ramen.

Maybe if you could just lie there until you decomposed, then you wouldn’t have to have a conversation with him about this. That’s what you would have done a couple of months ago.

But now the idea of communicating had been implanted and implemented several times before. It didn’t feel right to push it away, not when you’d come so far. A chance to heal.

You groaned, shoving a pillow onto your face before getting up grumpily.

Fuck this man and his stupid, healthy methods of coping.

___

You opened the door slowly, creeping into the hallway to assess what he was doing. It had been a few hours of silence in the house. He had given you space, not come knocking on the door to explain himself.

You took note of the kitchen. The table had been laid with two bowls of noodles covered with a plate along with a glass each of juice. It was domestic. Cute.

He was watching Die Hard but the volume was turned down low. If he was anything like you, he wouldn’t have been paying too much attention.

You cleared your throat awkwardly to grab his attention.

His neck craned to look at you, surprise flashing across his face for a second before he leapt up, turning off the TV in an instant.

“Y/N,” he stated as normally as he could.

“Samuel,” your tone was steady.

He scratched the back of his neck nervously. “Wasn’t sure if you were gonna show up.”

“Neither was I.” You looked at the table, gesturing towards it with your shoulder. “Watchu got there, Gordon Ramsey?”

Because screw him, but the longer you stood there staring at the bowl, you were starting to understand the lengths he went to to get something other than bread, peanut butter and soup. As much as the prospect of being petty thrilled you, you had survived on nothing but them for the past few weeks.

“Got a few packs of ramen and a gallon of juice from the store. Thought you- we deserve somethin’ nice.” You noticed his quick coverup but didn’t acknowledge it. “It’s not Michelin star worthy, but it’ll do.”

You nodded, avoiding looking at him.

“I-”

“Hey-”

Both of you started at the same time, only to be cut off by the other. You mentioned for him to continue.

“Listen, I’m sorry. I should have told you before I left,” You didn’t expect the sincerity that exuded from every word he let out and you found yourself unable to look away. “I’m not used to people worrying about where I go... but things are different now. I won’t do it again.”

You weren’t used to the feeling of lightness that accompanied an apology. Relief.

“Thank you,” you said breathily. His face noticeably brightened. “But why’d you come back?”

His small smile left as soon as it came, as his face fell into a frown. “What?”

“You could have just left. You had the car, the-” you stopped yourself from listing out reasons why he should have. “Why’d you come back?”

He looked completely confused.

“Because I wanted to,” he voiced. “Leaving you behind was never an option. I wouldn’t-”

He trailed off, eyes never leaving yours.

“You’re stuck with me,” he urged softly. “We’re a team.”

You lingered on him longer than you wanted to admit. He wasn’t lying, you had realised.

“Care to join me for dinner?” he asked, extending a hand to you.

You rolled your eyes but took it, feeling the heat creep up your neck. He smirked at you and fuck, he was frustratingly cute.

You understood. You totally understood when you nearly died at the first bite you took, vowing to never take food like this for granted again. It may have been the absolute bare minimum; just the seasoning and noodles he had cooked in the microwave, but it was the best goddamn meal you ever had.

“Good, right?” He looked about as content as he could be.

“Best fuckin’ day of my life.”

He kidded around some more. You choked out a laugh at some, wholly ignored the others to which he took complete offence. You saw it as a way to humble him.

This was the normalcy you had crushed your craving for so long ago, accepting that it wouldn’t ever happen. A normal dinner with someone who made you smile, no impending doom lurking around the corner and maybe a shot at a glimmer of something happy.

It was strange that you found it with another hitman in a safe house, hiding from authorities and who knows what else, with food worth a couple of cents. You wouldn’t want it any other way.

Yet there were things that had to be discussed. Conversations that needed to happen.

“Sam, we need to talk about it.” You didn’t have to explain, he knew what you were talking about.

“What’s wrong?”

“I need to tell you something and I need you to hear me out before saying anything,” you pulled away from him, shuddering at the sudden cold that enveloped you.

“I’m listening.”

“We do,” he agreed, and you could feel the atmosphere in the room begin to shift. “But we don’t have to do it now.”

He reached across from where he was sitting, hesitantly interlacing your fingers. The sense of fluster you experienced wasn’t healthy, you decided.

You just ducked your head, fighting against the damn smile that was trying to make its way onto your face. You didn’t pull away.

“Okay.”

Next part

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showrunnerihardlyknowher · 3 years ago

Note

You know how we have pet costumes? Give Jacob one, make him a cute space cowboy😈😈😈

WE'RE BACK BABY

Please enjoy this little ficlet (that was actually my 3rd attempt to write a fluffy ficlet for this universe because all the other ones kept becoming future chapters lmao)

“This is humiliating. I look like sheriff Woody or something.”

“Aw, I was thinking more like John Wayne Gacy, you know?”

“The...the clown serial killer…?”

Angie pursed her lips. “Wait, who was the cowboy guy in all the old movies? Like, before Clint Eastwood and whatever.”

“That’s John Wayne. Not John Wayne Gacy,” Jacob tugged at the sleeves of his costume and readjusted his cowhide vest. “And I don’t feel anywhere near as cool as him right now.”

She rolled her eyes and crinkled her nose. “That’s because you’re not cool. You’re a grown man playing dress up with a kindergartener.”

“So are you.”

Angie straightened her Native American headpiece and threw one of her braided pigtails behind her. “Yeah, but I know it’s stupid, so therefore I’m doing it ironically which makes me cool.”

Jacob sighed heavily but didn’t argue further, instead tugging his cowboy hat down further to shield his face that burned with embarrassment. Being forced into having playdates with his captor’s coworker was nothing new. He had spent plenty of time being Mibao’s sole playmate aboard the ship, doing the best he could to keep the six year girl entertained and not too psychologically damaged. Being the youngest in a sibling group of only boys, he was a bit rusty when it came to knowing anything about kids. Thankfully, Mibao was more than happy to take him by the hand and show up all the “fun” things she used to either do back home or what she would now do with her “kitty”.

Today’s game of choice was dress up. Every day felt like dress up when it came to the girl’s ever expanding wardrobe; she was always dressed in an obnoxiously puffy and sparkling princess dress fashioned with ribbons and bows galore and always with a matching crown. Fine, no big deal, he could slap a tiara on his head and call it a day, he’d worn worse at the few fraternity parties he attended during college. Nope, not good enough. Mibao had a very specific game she wanted to play which involved him wearing a cowboy costume of all things. A very realistic and detailed cowboy costume, assless chaps and spurs and all. Again, he could...handle it for the most part. The only thing that really bothered him about it was all the coos and giggles he received from both his and Mibao’s captors when he finally came out in his new outfit.

And he knew for a fact they took many, many pictures of him.

It didn’t end there, Mibao still had more requests. Angie needed to join in as well and she was required to be an “indian princess” to partake. Naturally, she was more than happy to agree if it meant getting a break from the absolute nightmare of a captor she had been saddled with. So, now Jacob had to deal with the fact that she would have to watch him play pretend in this ridiculous getup. He could never catch a break with her, it seemed, she always had to catch him when he was in the middle of doing something cringe worthy. She didn’t even look half as uncomfortable as him and she was literally wearing half as much clothing.

Or maybe that was exactly why she was so comfortable as she sauntered up to him, making a finger pistol to tip his hat away from his face. “Cheer up, partner,” she teased. “I think it makes you look cute.”

“I think it makes me look like Owen Wilson from the museum movie,” Jacob replied, hoping the shadow of the brim hid his reddening cheeks.

“Oh my God, you are a tiny little twink cowboy, huh?”

“I’d rather be the gladiator guy.”

“You wish you could pull off being the gladiator guy.”

A rebuttal was on the tip of his tongue when Mibao made her appearance from behind the monitor where she had been changing. This time instead of her usual princess attire, she was dressed...pretty much the same, only this time she had a tiny pair or iridescent fairy wings attached to the back. What a fairy had to do with cowboys and indians, he hadn’t the faintest idea. She stopped when she saw the two of them and stuck out her tongue in childish disgust.

“Eww, stop kissing!” She scolded. “You can kiss the princess later, Jake, it’s time to play!”

Jacob had never been more grateful in his life that the creatures idly watching them couldn’t understand English because he just might have died if they heard. He could feel the heat radiating from his nape to his cheeks, putting his hands up in defense like it could keep Angie away from him.

“Wh-no! We weren’t, we weren’t kissing, Reagan, w-we-!”

Angie only cackled, her amusement stemming more from Jacob’s panicked response than the actual accusation of giving him a kiss. “Yeah, cowboy, you can kiss me later.” She winked and nudged him with her elbow as she walked past to where Mibao was waiting.

He groaned, tugging the hat down as far as it would go even if that meant obscuring his vision somewhat. That was totally fine, he didn’t want to look at anyone right now and he did not want to be perceived either. The child was leading them back over to her designated play area scattered with art supplies and stuffed toys for where they’ll play their game of make believe. Angie was already sitting on her knees by the time he shuffled over and beckoned him with a sly smile to come take a seat on the ground next to her. Jacob obliged, but refused to give her the satisfaction of seeing his beet red face.

As soon as they were settled, Mibao immediately launched into the exposition of the scene they would be putting on, including their roles and superpowers (that only she had because she was a magical fairy queen). Jacob was only half listening; the kid usually forgot half of her own rules in the middle of playing anyways because she wanted to change the story and it wasn’t that hard to follow her game of make believe. Instead, he kept side-eying Angie, who was side-eying him back, and every time they made eye contact she would smile and bump his shoulder with hers.

This was going to be a long playdate.

The lab door slid open as Talan walked in, peeling off his bloodied gloves to dispose of them in Ylva’s waste bin. “I need my human back.”

“Aw, why? They’re all having a ball together!” Ylva frowned, gesturing to the miniature trio on her desk. Well, the smallest one and Talan’s pet seemed like they were having a good time, namely at the expense of the other human in a hat. They all seemed to stop at the interruption, his human fixing him with a sneer that he was tempted to match.

“What the fuck is it wearing?” He asked, ignoring all the little protests he got when he grabbed it and plucked the stupid looking feather thing of its head. “I thought you said it’s not nice to torment the humans.”

Edix scoffed at him, though his annoyance was more from Talan being in his general vicinity than anything. “It’s not torment. They were having fun.”

Talan did not look convinced in the slightest, his eyes sweeping over the pup who was pouting at him for taking away its playmate and the other who froze any time he breathed in its direction. Like owner, like pet, he assumed as it seemed to unconsciously inch closer to where Edix’s hand was resting for a better sense of security. Pathetic. At least his pet had a bit more self respect and wasn’t afraid to try and stab him in the hand with his own tools. Of course, it got a sharp flick to the stomach to knock it off, but he could appreciate the gumption.

Talan rolled his eyes. “Yeah, looks like a real party. So sad to have missed it.”

“Like you’ve ever been to a party to know what it looks like.”

“Says the one that only hangs out with plants.”

“Okay,” Ylva interjected, rising from her chair and scooping up her adorable little human. “You’re right, we should probably wrap this up, Mibao’s going to need a nap soon and she likes to fight her naps when she’s excited.”

That was all the excuse Talan needed to dip out without a formal goodbye, though it didn’t escape the corner of his eye how Edix’s human took a half step forward when he left, almost like it wanted to say something. Even if it did, he wouldn’t have cared. As quickly as he had intruded, Talan disappeared back down the main hall of the fauna department to return to his lab.

Edix stood up as well and tucked the data pad he had been keeping busy with under his arm to keep his hands free. He couldn’t help but smile at seeing how much closer his little pet was standing to him, even if it wasn’t by much, even though it was caused by Talan of all bastards. A win was a win in his book. The hand the human had been partly hiding behind curled easily around it to lift it up, immediately cradling it to his chest as usual. It squirmed for a moment but settled quick enough, a clear sign it was also ready to go back to the lab it was accustomed to. For a social species, the little one always seemed so drained after any playdate Ylva arranged for their pets. Fine by him, it usually meant his human was much more quiet and well behaved once it was back in the solitude of Edix’s company, making for an easier work day.

He used his finger to tilt back the wide brimmed hat it had been using to hide its sweet little face a majority of the playdate, earning him a surprised squeak. With the way its baby cheeks were turning an adorable shade of pink, Edix had a fairly good guess as to why it was trying to avoid everyone’s line of sight. Damn, he should have had Ylva take more pictures, this was way too cute for him. It reached up to quickly pull its shield back down and Edix let it with a laugh, cooing as he tugged at its little vest instead which only made it wriggle in distress. Overdramatic little thing.

“Can I keep this costume?” He asked as he followed behind Ylva who was preparing to put her own pup down for a nap. In reality, it meant she was going to have to play with it for at least another half an hour because, much like him, she was a sucker when it came to her human wanting to play. The difference being that Mibao wanted to do anything from coloring to singing to continuing its game of make believe while Edix’s pet always wanted to play chase.

Ylva smiled and shrugged. “Sure, I mean, it’s not like it’s going to fit the baby. It was printed for its measurements specifically, anyways.” Mibao was proving to be difficult in its refusal to relinquish the shiny wings Ylva had designed at its request, something that Ylva quickly made a game out of by setting her pup on the desk and letting it squeal and run while her hands chased after it. That would tire the kid out in no time. She looked back at his human and giggled. “I don’t think it likes it very much, though.”

Oh yeah, that was obvious from the get go, but it didn’t change the fact that it was way too precious for its own good in this type of outfit. Edix actually quite liked the contrast of the dark brown against its pale skin, even more given the fact that it matched the color of its doe eyes perfectly. It was much more appealing than that splotchy green jacket it was inexplicably attached to. He had a feeling it was going to try and strip out of this outfit as soon as it was back in Edix’s lab, provided he gave it its normal suit and jacket to change into. But...maybe he didn’t have to offer it its spare set of clothes right away. Maybe it would just have to hang around in its little boots and hat for a couple hours longer while he finished up his latest report that was just so important to get done. And maybe he would get constantly distracted by how cute it looked while it was definitely pouting at him for not taking off its costume that it took a little longer than usual to finish his work, which meant it spent even longer pouting under its hat.

Decisions, decisions.

Edix waved his hand dismissively. “It’ll learn to love it.”

“Oh, Eddie, don’t be mean to it,” Ylva laughed, not that seemed bothered by the idea of his pet keeping the outfit on for an extended period of time beyond the playdate. “But send pictures if you do.”

#ask #anon #my writing #g/t writing #g/t fluff #g/t ocs #g/t #giant/tiny #gianttiny #macro/micro #gt #please enjoy ficlet mommy buy for u #ive missed them so much #now we just gotta finish chapter 3 and we're really rockin n rollin #also yes angie likes teasing jacob for obviously having a crush on her #and ALSO YES i forgot angie has short hair so we're gonna pretend its because shes been in captivity for so long that it just grew out #and thats how she could braid it #talan simps rejoice for he is here #unfortunately

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ruzek-halstead · 3 years ago

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get me with those green eyes, baby

julie is unsure how to tell luke how she feels; she isn't sure if she can. so she does what she does best; she writes luke a song. why tell him if she can just sing it to him?

masterlist

Julie would be lying if she said every song she'd ever written since meeting Luke hadn't been about him.

Because they have. Every last one.

When unknown feelings started bubbling deep within her chest the more time she spent with Luke, she had to let them out somewhere. While she was never the type to keep things bottled up, she didn't necessarily enjoy spilling her guts (unless it was to Flynn). So, she opted for writing down her feelings. That usually ended up in lyrics and it wasn't like she could just show them to Luke because the boy was curious beyond belief and he would hound her until he knew exactly who it was about.

So, she locked everything in her dream box.

And yes, the boys were known to be a tad bit snoopy and go through her things, including the dream box. So, when Julie started locking up her deeply personal (borderline romantic) lyrics, she made it explicitly clear they were to go absolutely nowhere near her box.

She was mostly directing her words at Luke, who actively avoided eye contact while suppressing a smirk.

And they were respectful, she never had any further issues that she knew of; so, she continued writing.

It was only when they were faced with the choices of being stuck in the Hollywood Ghost Club forever or crossing over that she realized she wouldn't ever have to worry about Luke snooping through her personal things again.

He wouldn't be able to. He'd be gone.

So, Julie wondered: did she risk letting him go forever without telling him how she felt? Or tell him anyway but still risk him disappearing?

It was a tough choice that kept Julie reeling, but she found she didn't have much time in between. She didn't care that she would lose them when they crossed over; she would do what she could to ensure that they did.

With all the chaos, she didn't get the chance to talk to Luke, other than a quick moment to make sure he thanked her mom for bringing them to her when he saw her.

The tension was palpable and his gaze was intense. She was perfectly aware of Alex and Reggie only a few feet away, diligently pretending not to be listening but they both knew they were.

It wasn't the time or place for what Julie truly wanted to say, so she swallowed the words.

She didn't get another chance after that.

When they disappeared after their final bow, the pain was gutting. She continued to smile because this was a huge moment for her, for all of them, but they were gone. She thought she was ready, that she had mentally and emotionally prepared herself for their absence.

But nothing could prepare her for the immediate loneliness.

She wanted to be happy for them, and she was, deep down. But she had already suffered so much loss in her life, and this was only adding to it.

When she spotted them in the garage, tear-stained and in excruciating pain, all her emotions were overridden. All she could think about was saving them, no matter the cost, no matter the consequences. The desperation clawed at her throat; she couldn't bear seeing them in this much pain.

But then Luke delivered those few words: No music is worth making, Julie, if we're not making it with you.

She regretted not sharing her feelings but she was confident had an inkling of a clue. Even if she never explicitly said the words, he knew.

So, when she threw herself into his arms, she wasn't even thinking about the fact that he was air and she would most likely slam right into the wall instead. When she collided into his toned chest, she drowned in the moment, hardly even realizing that this shouldn't be possible.

But then she felt it.

She felt the softness of his suit beneath her fingers; she felt his hot breath fanning across her neck; and she felt his arms squeeze tighter around her waist.

Julie felt him.

It was impossible, they weren't sure how to explain it. Julie gazed at Luke's awestruck expression, tears leaking from his emerald eyes. And then he was somehow feeling better; her touch made him feel better and she wasn't sure how to feel about it. All she knew was that she had to try, so she quickly gathered Alex and Reggie as well and in awe, they watched as their Hollywood Ghost Club tattoos disappeared.

They did it.

The boys were free from Caleb and they still hadn't crossed over. Julie didn't have to give them up yet.

Of course, life continued to go on afterwards. The band was more popular than ever and Flynn was busy booking them gig after gig after gig. Not that they minded; it was exactly what they wanted to do in the first place. But the pressing thought never left them.

How long was this going to last?

It killed Julie to go on everyday, knowing that one day, she could walk into the studio, ready to rehearse and they could just be gone forever. It was one thing knowing, like how she knew last time. She was somewhat adequately prepared, but this time, it could happen at any time and she was far too attached now.

Julie knew she shouldn't bottle her feelings like she did last time. She had no idea when her last opportunity would be.

And Luke made her happy. He made her so happy.

One day she would be talking herself up, then the next she would be shutting down. She wasn't sure what to do, how to handle her feelings. Sometimes Luke could be so sickeningly sweet and the words were on the tip of her tongue but then he would do something so stupid or annoying that left her wanting to commit murder.

It was exhausting.

But then, one Saturday morning, Julie woke up with a fierce sense of determination and she thought: this is the day.

She wasn't sure where the surge of confidence came from, but she wasn't going to question it for fear that she would chicken out. Instead, she got herself ready for the day and dug through her dream box to pick out one of her most recently written songs.

Julie still wasn't sure how to verbally tell Luke how she felt; she wasn't sure if she could.

But why tell him when she could just sing it to him?

Julie marched down to the garage, mumbling a quick hello to her dad and Carlos who were making breakfast. Of course, the boys were glued to their instruments, most likely creating a new melody for a song Luke was working on.

"Jules, hey!" Luke greeted excitedly, his green eyes sparkling.

Julie scowled. He shouldn't be allowed to look at her like that.

"Alex, Reggie, do you guys mind going somewhere else? I need to talk to Luke."

Julie didn't mean for her words to sound so ominous; so much so that Alex and Reggie shot curious eyes to Luke, no doubt wondering what he did now. But she was a woman on a mission and she didn't have time to waste. Any time wasted was just her getting closer to backing out.

"Sure," Reggie drawled slowly. His eyes shot back and forth between Julie, with her lips pursed and hands on her hips and Luke, who frankly looked quite scared. Reggie and Alex poofed out, only muttering a quick good luck to Luke.

Immediately, Luke started rambling.

"Whatever I did, I'm so sorry. I'm an idiot, you know this, I'm—"

Julie shook her head. "Shut up."

But for some reason, he kept talking and Julie huffed in frustration.

Julie stepped across the studio, stopped right in front of Luke and his words died on his tongue. She reached for his guitar and pulled the strap from around him, placing it back on its stand.

Luke was more confused than ever.

Julie grabbed his biceps and pushed him back towards a stool. "Sit," she demanded.

"Julie, what's going on?"

"Please, just stop talking."

Julie made her way to the piano, sitting down on the bench and letting her fingers rest on the keys. It brought her some comfort for what she was about to do. Her eyes glanced up towards Luke, who was biting his lip nervously.

"I don't know how to tell you this, so I'm just going to sing it."

"Julie—"

"Luke, please," she breathed quietly and his eyes snapped to hers sympathetically. "Just listen."

Luke nodded in response. Julie could see his inability to sit still for long kick in as his knee started bouncing up and down quickly. She noticed his green eyes darting nervously between the piano and her face; the entire situation was much too anxious for him to handle.

"I wrote you a song."

Before Julie could adequately appreciate the way Luke's jaw fell open, she took a deep breath and allowed the music to consume her. She'd been going over these lyrics for weeks now; they were the truest words she'd never spoken, straight from the heart because of some ghost she'd tried so hard to hate in the beginning.

Julie was completely terrified.

But she couldn't continue on not living to the fullest. It wasn't fair to her and if by some off chance Luke felt the same way and wanted to pursue this, it wasn't fair to him either.

the way you move is like a full on rainstorm

and i'm a house of cards

you're the kind of reckless that should send me running

but i kinda know that i won't get far

His approach could be so aggressive, so eager to get things done, that sometimes he bulldozed over everything in his way. It was an effective way to get things done, but Julie always appreciated the process. Ever since they first met, he gave off a troublemaker type of vibe. Mooning Trevor Wilson always came into mind, but Luke was also the first to help her sneak out of her house using her bedroom window. It's not like the idea never crossed her mind, but before she met the boys, she never really had a reason to.

Luke changed a lot of things for her.

and you stood there in front of me just

close enough to touch

close enough to hope you couldn't see

what i was thinking of

It truly never bothered her in the beginning that they couldn't touch. They were friends, bandmates, nothing more. But then he let her into his brilliant mind and as soon as they started writing together, everything started changing. Julie didn't want anything to change, she knew it would only complicate things, but she couldn't help it.

And then Perfect Harmony happened, and her mind so vividly showed her what it could feel like and ever since, she couldn't get rid of the urge to feel his soft skin under her fingertips.

After visiting his parents and their talk on her porch, it seemed like he knew what she was thinking. He seemed to want it too, if his actions were anything to go by, but it couldn't happen. It left her feeling a tad awkward, but as soon as she got into her house, she made a beeline for her bedroom and poured her thoughts and feelings into a new song about Luke.

drop everything now

meet me in the pouring rain

kiss me on the sidewalk

take away the pain

'cause i see sparks fly whenever you smile

When she wrote this chorus, she was on a high after their Edge of Great performance.

It was nothing that could ever happen, but it was everything she imagined in her wildest dreams.

Every girl at her age had the kiss in the rain fantasy. Julie's really was a fantasy because every time she looked at him, it was just a cruel reminder of everything that couldn't be. But she yearned for it; for everything to change, for him to help ease her pain, for him to surprise the hell out of her one day by grabbing onto her waist and ceasing her many questions with his lips.

get me with those green eyes, baby

as the lights go down

give me something that'll haunt me when you're not around

'cause i see sparks fly whenever you smile

His eyes were so captivating, Julie couldn't help but to mention them in every song she wrote. He knew exactly how to use them against her to get what he wanted and Julie was as weak to their power as anyone else. Sure, she put up a front; she had to, she was the boss, but his gaze truly made her weak in the knees. She dreamt of his eyes when she closed hers at night; she couldn't escape them even in her dreams.

The entire reason she was finally sharing this song with him in the first place was because the chances that he could disappear without warning were too high and risky. Julie knew that was a possibility, but her feelings for him were too strong to ignore. She wanted him and she wanted to be left with memories of what they could be together, because one day, when he wasn't around anymore, Julie could think back to all they shared together.

my mind forgets to remind me, you're a bad idea

you touch me once and it's really something

you find i'm even better than you imagined i would be

Oh God, she knew. She knew she and Luke could be so unbelievably destructive. There were so many things against them; she knew it was a bad idea. And she actually attempted to entertain those ideas, for the sake of Flynn and her own protection, but she couldn't anymore. Depriving herself of what she really wanted wasn't healthy and eventually she stopped trying to fight it.

She stopped trying to fight it the night of their Orpheum performance. When she felt Luke's arms around her, physically squeezing her as tightly as his muscles could manage, it changed everything. For better or for worse, she was completely invested now. Not just in Luke, but in all of the boys; they were family.

i'm on my guard for the rest of the world

but with you, i know it's no good

and i could wait patiently

but i really wish you would

Before the boys came into her life, Julie was on the edge. She was about to give up music, even though she loved music with her entire being. She just didn't have it in herself anymore; her muse was gone and she didn't want to share her music in a world where her mother couldn't witness it.

But then these three, random, cute, dorky boys showed up in her garage one day, claiming it was their studio and slowly, they wormed themselves into her heart. Julie didn't want to let them in right away, and she made that quite clear with her cold exterior. But then Luke just had to follow her out, pleading his case with the softest eyes and easily pulling at her heartstrings.

Julie felt her guard start to drop right there and then, and the more time she spent with those dorky boys, the less control she had. She quickly discovered there was no point in holding back around the boys. For teenage boys, they were highly perceptive to her emotions and when she wasn't being whole.

Every time Luke pulled her aside, using his words and his unbelievably intense eyes because he couldn't touch her, Julie felt her walls start to crumble. There was no reason to be anything but herself when she was with Luke; she felt it in her bones, their connection was unmatched.

drop everything now

meet me in the pouring rain

kiss me on the sidewalk

take away the pain

'cause i see sparks fly whenever you smile

Julie would be lying if she said she hadn't fantasized about her first kiss with Luke since he became corporeal.

How could she not?

She'd been thinking about him differently ever since her uncontrollable daydreams, but it was only ever in her mind; it could never happen in real life. And then all of a sudden, it could happen, but it was still beyond her wildest thoughts.

Sometimes she found herself with an urge at the worst of moments. Luke playing the melody he created for their latest lyrics and Julie should've been focusing on the music, but she couldn't tear her eyes away from his lips. Or throughout any of their live performances, when they shared a single microphone because the fans seemed to love it (among others). They were so close together, Julie was genuinely afraid she would forget the lyrics because all she could think about was Luke and how much she needed him.

And then he'd flash his charming grin before pulling some ridiculously attractive guitar trick and Julie was once again left floundering.

get me with those green eyes, baby

as the lights go down

give me something that'll haunt me when you're not around

'cause i see sparks fly whenever you smile

Julie didn't want Luke to disappear.

She knew that more than ever now. She had prepared herself once, and she doesn't think she can do it again; it was far too painful.

But she knew, one day, their time would come. They'd have completed their unfinished business and they'd get the opportunity to move onto a better place. And she knew, they might not be around all the time, but they'd be watching. And she knew, when she closed her eyes at night, she would dream of Luke's smile and every emotion it brought to her soul.

i run my fingers through your hair

and watch the lights go wild

just keep on keeping your eyes on me

it's just wrong enough to make it feel right

and lead me up the staircase

won't you whisper, soft and slow

i'm captivated by you baby like a firework show

One thing Julie could commend was that touch came quite easily after everything changed. It happened subtly, with slow touches on the piano bench, then gentle touches on the small of Julie's back. Eventually, it progressed.

Julie realized, accidentally, that Luke loved getting his scalp scratched. She had collapsed against her headboard one late night, and Luke liked to check-in on her when she stayed up late doing school work. Upon spotting her exhausted eyes, he plopped down next to her, dropping his head in her lap. Julie was far too tired to protest or even consider the ramifications, but somehow her hand made its way to his brown locks. She played gently with his hair, fingernails scraping against his scalp.

It was only for a second, and she quickly pulled away to grab her textbook. A low groan ripped through Luke's throat and he blindly reached up to grab her hand and pull it back to the crown of his head. It became their thing after that.

When Julie wrote the bridge of the song, she was high off energy from their latest show after they performed their brand new song. Their performance was electric as usual; it ended with Julie laughing, opening her eyes to find Luke staring at her in adoration.

She didn't even think about it when she threw her arms around his neck in a celebratory hug.

Even when they pulled away from each other and the crowd was still cheering, Alex and Reggie somewhere on the stage around them, she couldn't focus on anything except his bright smile.

Luke quite literally captivated her with every little thing he did.

She thought for a moment: this might be it, maybe he'll finally kiss me. But truth be told, Julie was glad he didn't. If it was going to happen, she didn't want it to be there, in front of hundreds of people. She wanted a private moment, just between her and Luke; that was all she needed.

drop everything now

meet me in the pouring rain

kiss me on the sidewalk

take away the pain

'cause i see sparks fly whenever you smile

Julie was coming to the end of the song now and she hadn't dared to look and see Luke's reaction. She wasn't sure she could handle any rejection should it come, but she knew she couldn't hold in her feelings anymore either.

Regardless of the result, Julie was still proud of herself. She put herself out there in a way she'd never done before and it was a big step in building her confidence.

get me with those green eyes, baby

as the lights go down

give me something that'll haunt you when you're not around

'cause i see sparks fly whenever you smile

Julie rounded off the song with the last few keys on the piano, taking a slow, deep breath when her fingers ceased moving.

She didn't want to look up, didn't want to see his reaction for fear of what she might see. Luke was always very expressive; even when he didn't know exactly what to say, he would ramble on until he eventually figured it out.

But this was different.

Julie was actually trying to tell him something, trying to tell him exactly how she felt in the best way she knew how; songwriting and singing. She paled for a moment; what if he didn't even understand what she was trying to say?

"Julie."

His voice seemed amused, and her eyes immediately snapped up to meet his.

Luke was now standing in front of the stool, unabashedly holding a smile that caused her to let out a large sigh of relief. Her hands automatically flew up to cover her face in mortification.

Stick to your guns, Jules.

But she couldn't. She felt like she was going to melt into a puddle.

Julie heard Luke approach and slide onto the piano in front of her. "Julie," he laughed, and she didn't know if that was a good or a bad thing. "Can you look at me?"

Before Julie could begrudgingly pull her hands away from her face, his hands reached down to circle around her wrists and pull gently. His eyes were soft, scanning her rosy cheeks and glassy eyes. She knew she shouldn't be crying, there was absolutely no need to, but her emotions were running high and this was a really huge move for her.

Julie hesitantly met his eyes. His hands stayed cuffed around her wrists, now resting in his lap. "Jules, that was beautiful. What's wrong?"

"I'm mildly mortified," Julie replied honestly, eyes dropping to the brand new guitar pick necklace Willie had given him (one for each of the boys and a new bracelet for Julie).

"Why?"

Julie's eyes snapped back up to glare at him. "Because I just basically spilled my guts out to you in the best way I know how and you haven't said anything!"

Luke didn't look phased at her change in attitude or the frustration she was throwing his way. He always knew the best way to handle her; talk her down when she needed it, or give her a reality check when she was too in her head (she'd be sure to do the same).

Instead, his hand moved to angle her chin so she couldn't avoid his gaze anymore. "Because I wanted you to look at me when I told you."

"Told me what?"

"That I love your song," Luke said softly, fingers reaching up to caress her cheek. Julie struggled to maintain eye contact when he looked at her like she had stars in her eyes and he said things like that. "And I think I've known for a while, but you know me. I'm not good at dealing with feelings."

Julie leaned into his touch. He wasn't exactly being clear, but it was Luke, so she wasn't exactly surprised.

He blinked, rubbing the back of his neck as he chuckled nervously. "Jules, I think I might be in love with you."

Julie's eyes softened, chest constricting with a multitude of emotions. Now it was Luke who was actively avoiding meeting her eyes, though he still couldn't find it in himself to stop talking.

"Not that I really know what it means. I've never been in love, but I think it's what I feel," he rambled on. "You came into my life when I really needed it. I'm better because of you; you make me better, Julie."

Julie decided it was about time she took hold of the reins again. After all, this was her idea all along. She placed her hands on either side of his face, breaking free from his hold. She pulled his face down, meeting him halfway. Julie hesitated, giving him the chance to pull back if he wanted to, but he really didn't want to.

Luke closed the rest of the distance between them, gently pressing his lips against Julie's. It was soft and simple and over way too soon, but Luke didn't want to push it.

He most definitely had just confessed his love for her and the reality was starting to hit him hard.

So, he made a joke.

"I'm sorry our first kiss wasn't on the sidewalk in the pouring rain."

A reference to her song. The push they needed.

And even though awkwardness was starting to creep up on Luke, a smirk slid its way onto Julie's lips.

"Don't worry; we'll have time for that."

Before Luke's lips could appreciate the grin he wore, Julie reeled him back in, pressing her lips firmly to his once again. Her hands found his way to his neck, slipping into his hair and scratching his scalp just the way he liked it. Luke let out a groan, unwillingly pulling away from her.

"Julie, if you don't stop, I may pass out from cardiac arrest," he mumbled, trying and failing to control his breathing.

Julie let out a short laugh. She started her day with so much confidence and it slowly swindled into uncertainty, but it all worked out. She just needed to trust herself, her feelings and Luke.

"By the way," Julie added, resting her elbows on his knees as she looked up at him in adoration, "I think I'm in love with you too."

Luke would never push her, but he couldn't lie and say he wasn't itching to hear the words. Everything she said in the song sent him into overdrive, but nothing compared to hearing her say it like that.

"Why don't we go write a song about it?"

"Good idea. I'm feeling especially inspired at the moment."

Luke leaned forward, pressing a quick kiss to Julie's nose. She scrunched her nose adorably in response.

"Me too, Jules."

i don't really have a taglist anymore (old one is outdated) and i never know who to tag so pls let me know if you want tags for any of my future fics :)

#fics #julie and the phantoms #jatp #juke #luke patterson #julie molina #alex mercer #reggie peters #jatp fic #juke fic #jatp fics #juke fics #luke x julie #julie x luke #old school t-swift serving us with the juke vibes

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oceanivoxjoquainx · 4 years ago

Text

First Dates

"Pick a place, he said, ANY place, he said, and I'll meet you there. That's what his texts say right y'all? I'm not suddenly illiterate right?"

Joaquin Torres was nervously pacing in front of the park entrance he chose to meet Sam Wilson at. Thee Falcon! Its was currently 8:03 and Sam said he'd be there at 7:55 but he wasn't there yet.

"Oh my god he changed his mind. Maybe it was something I said? Dammit I knew I shouldn't have sent that winky emoji. Too strong Torres, too stro-"

"Would you please chill the hell out Jo? You have us here on this group voice call waiting for this man to appear but remember he's a superhero! Maybe air traffic is just a little congested! Take a breath babes."

That was Sharon Carter, Joaquin's best friend and the person that stopped Joaquin in his tracks when he started spiraling. Like right at this very moment.

"Easy for you to say Sharon! The last time you went on a first date your date showed up on TIME!"

"I mean that's true, but its funny because my brother is usually hours early."

And THAT was Sarah Wilson. Sam's sister anddddd Sharon's wife.

Joaquin looked down at the clock on his phone. 8:06. He groaned, completely tuned out the both of them and kept rambling, "I'm so dumb, this was a mistake, it'll ruin EVERYTHING, I'm calling it off." And with that he began to walk away until he heard the tell tale sounds of metallic wings folding behind him.

"Aww you're running already? You haven't even looked at me yet!"

Joaquin froze in place and suddenly was very present of the amount of air he was breathing in. Or the lack of air. He stared at his phone and saw Sharon and Sarah staring back, all three wide eyed. The two women waved at him and mouthed a quick "Gook luck! Love you!" before hanging up. Leaving Joaquin alone in the presence of the man of his actual dreams.

"Well? What're you waiting for?"

Sam's voice was suddenly in Joaquin's ear, which sent shivers down his spine and his body was pressed right up against him which sent goosebumps along his arms.

After taking a deep breath, Joaquin turned around, took a step back, and looked up at Sam but couldn't quite meet his eyes for fear he'd turn to jello on the pavement. Oh wow he was really close. Definitly close enough to smell his lightly applied cinnamon cologne, Joaquin's favourite, and peer right into the opening off his button up that exposed a little bit of his chest which Joaquin just wanted to get his mouth all ove-

"Well? I was umm waiting for you obviously. You said 7:55."

"Oh yeah my bad my flight plan got a little messed up. I apologize for leaving you waiting. I'm here now though so we can get started. But first-," Sam pulled one hand from behind his back and handed Joaquin a single red rose. Joaquin wasn't big fan of roses (he actually preferred hibiscus') but he took it and loved it regardless. "And then-," Sam pulled the other hand from behind his back and handed Joaquin a pair of googles.

"Thank you very much but what're these for?" Joaquin asked, tilting the goggles up and down to study them.

"Just put them on. Can I hold you for a sec?"

Something was up and Joaquin knew it, but he followed through with the instructions and put the googles on anyways. "I- um- well- uh- aha- sure yes you can um hold me!" Joaquin had started to blush but hoped the night fall would conceal it for now. Sweet mother of all things holy what is happening? He asked himself.

"Do you trust me?" was Sam's next question.

What kind of question was that? Joaquin wondered. "Of course I do! With my life!"

"Fantastic." Sam stepped towards Joaquin and hooked him around his waist with one arm. They're faces were nearly touching at this point. "Hold on tight!" He whispered into Joaquins ear, "We're about to get some serious airtime."

"What the hell do you mean AIRTIME!?!?" Joaquin gasped as Sams wings extended out his back and his thrusters engaged themselves. By this time he had already hooked his arms around Sams shoulders and threw his head deep into the Sams neck. He heard Sam say "Going up!" before finally turing his head and realizing his feet were no longer touching the ground and instead of looking at trees and the street he was getting a full face view of the stars and the cityscape.

"Holy shit we're FLYING????"

"It's okay I'm not gonna drop ya. Unless you start causing problems!"

"YOU BETTER HOLD ONTO ME SAM WILSON OR MY SHARON'S GOING TO HEAR ABOUT YOU IN MY DAILY RANTS!"

Sam only laughed and readjusted Joaquin in his arms. Now instead of Joaquin's feet dangling in the air his legs were now supported by one of Sams arms and the other was arm was holding his back. Joaquin though was still holding onto Sam's neck for dear life.

They gained height extremely quickly and after the reached an unspecified level Sam slowed his thrusters down and instead started going at a cruising speed. This was definitely more of Joaquin's style. He didn't think there would ever come a day where he was actually flying, nevermind being carried like a damsel in distress by an actual hero, but here he was doing just that.

Sam looked down at Joaquin and noticed his head was still deep into his neck so he thought he'd try to encourage him a little bit. "Hey you know you can look around right? Take in the view. I promise its beautiful and I absolutely will not let you go."

"Nuh uh. Nope. Nada. Zilch. Negatory."

"You're in the Air Force and scared of flying?"

"No! Planes are fine! I just didn't think I'd be thousands of feet in the air only supported by arms! Albeit they are very.... toned... strong.. arm...."

"Oh so that's what you like huh?" Joaquin couldn't see his face but he knew Sam was giving his signature smirk that made the blood rush to unspoken of places.

"Come on just look up," Sam whispered to him. This was enough to do it and Joaquin slowly began to lift his head up.

"Holy... mother of St. Francis wow that's beautiful." They were now flying over a lake and Joaquin took in the beautiful still water. His googles automatically turned into zoom in mode and he could actually see some fish in there! He also looked at the sky around him and took in all the stars and the massive full moon that felt so close he could reach out and touch it. The wind hitting his face felt both like a smooth hand cradling his face and little knives giving him some kind of exfoliation treatment.

They flew for a little bit more before spotting an island in the middle of the lake and landing there. Sam put Joaquin down and the smaller man began studying his surroundings.

"Well hey this is a neat little island! There's this cool beach and a picnic set up with food and these awesome trees and a- PICNIC SET UP WITH FOOD??"

Joaquin stared at Sam in bewilderment while finally looking him up and down and taking in the outfit. The button up was short sleeved with pineapple patterns on it and was paired with a simple pair of jeans and some boating shoes. It was kind of a train wreak fashion wise but on Sam the simplicity worked for some reason.

Sam simply laughed at the stare and said, "I told you, flight plans got mixed up!"

"Okay cooking a feast and getting flight plans mixed up are NOT the same Sam!"

Sam shock his head and slipped one his hands into Joaquin's, "Oh come onnnnn come eat some of this good food I made for you."

Joaquin felt like his skin was on fire at the simple yet intimate touch and eagerly accepted the guidance the table forgetting all words as the scent of seasoning and spices hit him all at once.

"You made all this for me?" Joaquin asked, looking up from the display to face Sam with wide eyes and open mouth.

"Yeah. I got a little help bu-"

Sam's answer was cut short as Joaquin perched up and locked their lips together. Sam slipped his arms over Joaquin's shoulders while Joaquin put his arms around Sams waist. Every time one of them broke away for a breath, the other came back in with a vengeance for more until they finally both had their fill.

"It's perfect." Joaquin breathed out. He didn't know what he wanted in life before this but at this point in time he had a pretty clear idea.

"Great. Wanna eat then?"

"Definitely. I'm hungry as hell!"

The two ate their fill, cracked as many jokes as they could fit in, and even went for a late night swim. Joaquin wished he could say that after that they went to sleep but alas the very opposite of that is what happened on those shores. But that's for another time.

#sam x joaquin #sam wilson #joaquin torres #torres #tfatws #samquin #fanfic #fanfic rec #help I've fallen deep in this hell hole and i cant get up!#but again... i dont really want to!#enjoy!#sarah wilson #sharon carter #sarah x sharon #sarah wilson x sharon carter

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johnkrrasinski · 5 years ago

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the chain on your neck;

full masterlist

Pairings: Steve Rogers x female!reader

Word count: 2,291

Warning: too much fluff probably

Summary: Steve Rogers came home to you after a delayed return and brought something special for you.

a/n: i was listening to call it what you want by taylor swift (well, it would be pretty obvious for my swiftie followers lol) anyways, i was really inspired by the line “i want to wear his initial on a chain round my neck” and that to me, has always been one of my favorite lyrics of reputation. also, the title was inspired by that exact line from you are in love. so here’s a steve rogers fic predicated on that line! hope you like it. please leave a like and comment. ❤

It was 9.30am on a Sunday morning in New York. Normally, you would take your sweet time to stretch in your bed and turn slowly to the other way around to gaze lovingly at your boyfriend. It was a rare sight to see him in such a serene state, so you didn't have the heart to wake him. It was lovely to see him without the wrinkles on his forehead and furrowed brows because he was carrying so much on his shoulders. His duties as Captain America, the missions, the battles, the reports, the urgent late night calls, the miscreants had clearly took a toll on him.

And you being his girlfriend, it was crystal clear to you how often he would put on a facade to be the backbone of the Avengers. Because, everyone is relying on him. There were innocent folks that needed his protection. There were little kids looking up to him. He didn't have the luxury to pour a couple tears to lay off some steam or have a mental breakdown in public. He had to be strong and steady.

Often times, when the fight really did a damage on him and it was written all over his face, he would try to hide it away from you. You knew he needed you, you knew he needed your comforting touch to ground him. He wouldn't ask for it though, he would simply undress himself out of the grimy suit and wordlessly wrapped himself around you. The feel of your skin against his kept him sane throughout all the worst missions he'd ever gone through.

So when you had the chance to just take a minute and enjoy this brief moment of life simply letting your boyfriend be... Human, you cherish and savor every single second of it.

That's your usual Sunday morning routine. But not today, today you woke up in a cold bed alone because the love of your life had gone to another mission in Prague four days ago, and he was supposed to come back last night. You were feeling grouchy because you didn't get your morning cuddles and kisses and Steve's morning cuddles and kisses were like coffee to other people. They need their morning boost to start off their day.

Delayed returns were part of the job. There was always unexpected incidents that required immediate attention of whoever took the mission. And the behest is that, you do not come home before the mission was truly taken care of.

So instead of sulking all day in bed, you leisurely check your phone and send him a good morning text. You figured that it would ease the feeling of missing him. You knew better than to wait around for an instant reply. You were not allowed to check your phone under any circumstances during missions unless you are safe and sound in your hotel room. So you decided to get yourself out of bed and washed your face and brushed your teeth.

After your daily morning routine, you went to the kitchen to cook yourself some early meal. Nat, Tony, Wanda, Vision, Rhodey and Clint were already there in the middle of their breakfast. They greeted you in your not-so-cheerful state.

"Good morning, kid." Tony was the first one to speak up.

"Hey Tony." In an indifferent tone. You just weren't in the mood to socialize because you missed your boyfriend terribly, and you just really wanted to spend your Sunday morning with him.

"Someone's in a grumpy mood." Natasha spoke up. The woman was always too good in seeing right through people.

"Not really, I'm just hungry." You retorted. Again, with that disinterested attitude.

"Hungry for some food or a certain super soldier, cause I've seen you hungry for actual food y/n, it wasn't like this."

"Okay! You're right. I'm missing my boyfriend and I'm so goddamn worried. He hasn't contacted us since last night, when he was supposed to come home. I texted him this morning and he still hasn't answered. What if something had happened to him and he wasn't able to send a message? What if he got stuck somewhere where he can't find a signal? What if he-"

"Sweetie, I think you are getting yourself too worked up. Just take a deep breath and eat some breakfast, yeah? I'll make you some coffee to ease your nerves." Wanda politely interrupted you. Out of all people, she knew exactly what the feeling was like. Aside from being able to read people's minds, she had actually lost so many of her loved ones, so she understood your overwhelming fears.

You put your head in your hands and took a deep breath and exhaled. You were getting too worked up and you needed to clear your head because freaking out is clearly not going to solve anything or give you any answers. It's not going to turn whatever situation Steve was stuck in and provide you a call or a text from him out of nowhere.

And you didn't realize how hungry you had been until your stomach started to make some growling noises that told you you needed some nourishment.

"Yeah, okay, I'm gonna cook something up."

Just as you pushed your chair back and stood on your feet, Friday's voice alerted everyone from the tranquil state of the room. "Captain Rogers, sergeant Barnes and Mr. Wilson are about to land in 5 minutes."

As everyone in the room had realized what was happening, they all immediately got on their feet and ran to the where the helipad was placed. You, on the other hand was overwhelmed with a sense of relief and joy. Because your boyfriend has come home and in one piece. You were about to see his beautiful sapphire eyes again and you couldn't wait any longer. You wanted to be the first one to welcome him home as soon as he lands.

As the quinjet landed on the ground and the door opened up wide, revealing your boyfriend and your friends, Bucky and Sam on his sides, walking out limping but still with that warm, familiar smile on his face because he finally saw you. Four days had felt way too long for being overseas from you.

He instantly ran as fast as he possibly could to you and grabbed you by your waist and carried you off the ground in a tight embrace. He buried his face in your neck and inhaled your luscious scent. You couldn't see his face because you were also burying your own face in his neck, but you could feel him smiling so widely because he was home and you were in his arms now.

"God, I've missed you so much, baby."

You moved your face to the front of his and pressed your foreheads together.

"I've missed you too, baby. So fucking much." You sniffled. In that moment it was just you and him, because you had been without each other for way too long to have a care about anything else in the world. Four days felt like four thousand years. It might seem dramatic but that's what happens when you are madly in love.

"I know baby, I know. I'm here now, it's okay." He kissed you, it was brief but it held more meaning than words. You closed your eyes as you relished in the feeling of him. Pressed up against you and tangible. Not a looming presence in your room, not a ghost in your dreams, not a whispered name in your prayers.

He put you down as threw his arm around your neck to keep you close. You both walk in each other's embrace to your room. Luckily, he didn't bring home any severe wounds that would require an immediate & extensive care. He could go straight to his own bed, take a warm shower and change into his pyjamas so he could lie in his cozy bedstead with you. Really, that's all he really wanted right now.

Steve Rogers was a man of sentiment. Not a lot of people saw it but, it's factual. You were lucky enough to witness the way this man displayed his affections and the way he'd never let you doubt his love and loyalty a single second. He was an assertive and a solemn leader to the team, especially when he had to save the world and faced the government. But you knew his tender heart way too well to let it affect you behind closed doors. You love him for the man he chose to be even when he didn't.

After you both wash yourself off the dirt, you put on one of his hoodies that literally swallowed your smaller figure. You looked so tiny and adorable in his shirts, he never minded that he'd often have trouble finding a certain shirt. It was always his hoodies, sweaters and old shirts that he rarely wore anymore. If she claimed it, then it's hers. No room for argument. Not that he'd try anyway.

She was drying her hair with the hairdryer in the small mirror of her bathroom when he walked in with nothing but his sweatpants on, he stared into her beautiful eyes in the mirror with a smile. "I got something for you."

"Yeah? What is it?" She smiled back at his reflection in the mirror.

He pulled out a lovely navy blue box with a silver ribbon on top of it. It made her turn around with an inquisitive look. She moved her eyes directly to the box in his calloused hands. He opened the lid cautiously, fearing that she might not like the surprise. Because even Captain America is still scared of rejections, he was trained for orders and enemies, but no one taught him that the little, sickly guy from Brooklyn would be rejected by a lot of women who couldn't see him past his appearance. And certainly, no one prepared him for the rejection from the love of his life. His past fears are clouding his mind and taking over his emotions before she even said a word.

The navy blue box revealed a beautiful piece of jewelry, specifically, a golden vintage necklace that hang up the letter "S" in the middle of its rounder. The red rose adornment on the left side of it only added the exquisite intricacies to it. And the antiquated piece of leaf on the other side enhanced more of its charm. She couldn't help the desire to touch the charming piece with her own fingers. She delicately curled them around the rustic chain, deliberately picked them up closer to her sight; she was charmed by it.

"Do you like it?" Steve spoke up timidly, as if he was doubting his own choice, he really wanted her to like it. He nervously stared into her eyes, waiting for her answer.

"I love it, Steve." She returned that restlessness expression on his handsome face with a fond smile. She loved it. She truly loved it and she meant it. She wasn't even faking it to spare his feelings, she genuinely became attached to it even if she hadn't even hung it around her own neck yet.

"Where did you get it from?" She continued. Her curiosity knocked on the moment.

"There was this local gift shop in Prague, it looked really old and small but still had its own charm, you know? I was walking around one night..." He looked distant for a second. "Couldn't sleep, the mission really carried a weight that day. I just kept walking, taking in the fresh midnight air until I found the shop... It drew me in."

Steve's face changed from an agitated expression to pure delight. He couldn't wait any longer to see it encircle the shape of her neck, so he asked; "do you want me to put it on you?"

"Please." She turned around to face the mirror again and waited for Steve to unclasp the hook of the necklace. She could feel his warm, steady breath on the back of her neck and this is the kind of intimacy not a lot of people talk about, but oh, how much it mattered in the moment.

When the necklace was on, she took her time to soak it in, how divine it looks on her now, she didn't think she could go anywhere without this necklace being a part of her. She pressed her thumb on every inch of this necklace, it really is a part of her now.

He is now wrapping his bulky arms around her shoulders and put his head right on the right side of hers. He looked at her reflection in the mirror. "You know why I chose this necklace?" He left a swift kiss on the right side of her neck where he was just resting his head on.

"Why?"

"Because it's the closest thing to your heart, and that's where I'm always supposed to be."

She didn't realize tears had started brimming in her eyes, the tenderness and sincerity in his voice made her realize just how lucky she was to possess such love him, and to have that love returned in if not, a greater measure than she ever hoped for.

"I love you, you know that?" It was rhetorical, she knew damn well that he had it ingrained deep in the back of his head that she loved him. Desperately, utterly and irrevocably. And so did he to her. It was more than a mere declaration but rather a vow, that it would be bounded to their souls for eternity. In sickness and in health, for better or for worse, 'till death do us part.

"I love you too, angel."

#steve rogers fic #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers one shot

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iamtrebleclefstories · 4 years ago

Text

Let You in on a Little Secret

This story was an idea that just popped in my head and I couldn’t get it out until I wrote it down. It takes place in a season 12 AU where Cristina never left, Derek is still alive, and Jo divorced Paul with the help of Alex after confiding in him about her past at the end of season 9 (before the tree crashes into the living room). This is my first Jolex and Grey’s fic so I hope you like it!!

To say he was excited would be an understatement. He was bursting with joy, anticipation, and love. He had tried his best to contain it, truly, but he was sure that he had weirded a few of the nurses out with the large grin that was on his face. He hoped no one would care enough to ask, because if they asked, he didn’t know how long he’d be able to keep this secret to himself. And that was saying something, because despite his bluntness and honesty, Alex Karev was a private and guarded person. He knew how to keep a secret if necessary. But today was different. Today he was walking on air. Today he was happy. Today he had finally grown up.

Making his way into the attendings’ lounge, he hoped he wouldn’t run into anyone. He entered the lounge to find it empty and poured himself a cup of coffee before sitting on the couch to read through a patient chart. He was alone for about ten minutes when the lounge filled with people. He looked up from his coffee and smiled, “Hey guys.”

“Karev, what’s with the look on your face?” Jackson asked.

“Ooh he’s making the ‘I just got laid face!’ Did you and Wilson do it in an on-call room?” Yang teased.

“No I did not just get laid. I’m just in a good mood today,” He answered.

“Alex Karev in a good mood? Yeah I’ll believe that when pigs fly,” Callie snorted.

“Whatever, I can be in a good mood if I want to. I had a great night, a great morning, a successful tumor resection, a cool surgery scheduled today, and I get to tell a kid and his parents that we found a lung after 2 years of searching.”

There was a pause before Cristina spoke, “Ah! So he got laid last night and this morning.”

There was a chorus of laughters as Meredith walked into the lounge. “What are we laughing about?” She asked.

“Alex is all bright and shiny today because he got laid last night and this morning,” Cristina wiggles her eyebrows.

“Shut up,” Alex grumbled. “I already told you guys. I’m not smiling because I got laid. I told you, I’ve been having a very good day today. I’m allowed to smile.”

Meredith’s eyes widened as she walked over and pressed her hand to his forehead, “Well he doesn’t have a fever so it’s definitely not the delirium talking.”

Alex rolled his eyes, “You know what? I’m not gonna let it bother me. I’m having a good day and I’m not gonna let anyone ruin it. I’m gonna go see patients.”

*****

A few hours later, he was at the nurses station updating a few charts when he felt a pair of airs wrap around his waist. Smiling, he pulled them closer to him before turning, “Hey.”

“Hey,” a beaming Jo answered.

“How’s your day been so far?”

“Great! Callie keeps asking me why I’m smiling so wide today. She mentioned that you seemed to be in a very good mood this morning and asked me if we had really hot sex this morning.”

Alex laughed, “Yeah... they kept teasing me about the goofy look on my face while we were in the lounge. Yang was convinced that we had just come back from a quickie in an on-call room.”

Jo chuckled, “If only they knew the real reason we’re so giddy today. I think they might combust.”

“You’re probably right. I know we said we weren’t gonna make a big deal about it yet but, I’ve gotta tell someone before I spontaneously combust.”

“Okay, you can tell one person. But they must be sworn to secrecy. Also, I think I would be kind of hypocritical to say that you can’t talk to anyone about it because I kind of already called Ms. Schmidt this morning on my way in before rounds.”

Alex looked at her in disbelief, “I can’t believe you spilled before I did. You owe me thirty bucks.”

“Haha, I know. I’m so weak.” Jo exclaimed.

“No you’re not,” Alex shook his head. “You’re just excited and happy and so am I. I mean, I’m scared out of my freaking mind but, I’m happy.”

Jo smiled softly at him, “I love you.”

“I love you more,” he said before kissing her. “Okay, you gotta go before Torres gets on your ass about wandering off during work hours.”

“Ugh, I know. I’ll see you later!” She called as she walked away.

Smiling to himself again, he made his way over to the elevator. When the doors opened, he found himself face to face with Meredith Grey. He smiled at his friend as he pushed the buttons for the peds floor. They stood in silence for a minute before Meredith the emergency stop button, “Okay seriously. What the hell is going on with you? You’re scaring me with that happy look on your face. Who are you and what have you done to Alex Karev?”

Alex huffed out a breath, “It’s nothing, Mer. I’m just happy, is all.”

Meredith looked at him skeptically for a moment and let out a gasp, “Oh my God! You proposed, didn’t you?”

“What?” Alex scrunched his face, “No I didn’t propose. You’re still holding onto the ring. But speaking of rings, I think I’m gonna need to back soon.”

“So you’re gonna do it? You’re gonna propose!”

“Soon, yeah. I finally feel like things are coming together and the time is right, ya know?”

Meredith nodded, “I do. But I still don’t get why you are in such a good mood today. You haven’t proposed yet.”

Alex sighed, “Okay. I’m going to let you in on a little secret. But you have to swear you won’t tell anyone. Not Cristina. Not Shepherd. Not Torres. Not Zola. Not even your damn pillow. You’ve got to be sworn to secrecy.”

“I swear.”

“Okay,” Alex took a steadying breath. “Jo and I have been talking about fostering kids. We both had really rough childhoods and wanted to make a difference in some kid’s life. So we went through the whole process and got approved two weeks ago. Last night we got a call that we’ve been placed and we’re getting a four year old kid at the end of the week. And to top it all off, this morning, we found out that Jo is pregnant.”

“OH MY GOD!” Meredith squealed in joy. She threw her arms around his neck and gave him a giant squeeze, “Oh my God. Alex! I am so happy for you!”

“Thanks,” he replied, allowing the goofy grin to make its way back to his face.

“This is huge! You two are going to be parents!”

“I know,” he laughed. “I can’t believe it. It still feels like I’m dreaming.”

“Well okay, but I need the details! So spill everything.” Meredith said, matching his smile.

“There’s not much to tell. The kid we’re getting is a boy named Beau Carter. His mom died of an overdose and his 19 year old dad was raising him but realized about a year ago that he wasn’t fit to raise a kid so he’s been passed around for the past eleven months. If we’re a good fit, the hope is to foster to adopt. And as for Jo’s pregnancy, we’re not positive how far along she is, but we’re pretty sure she’s about ten weeks or so.”

“Were you guys trying?”

“No,” he chuckled. “We were being careful because we knew we wanted to foster, but you remember the inter mixer Bailey forced us to all go to? Well, Jo and I got pretty drunk that night and I don’t remember using a condom so we’re pretty sure that’s when it happened. We made an appointment with OB for tomorrow morning to find out.”

“Alex! I’m speechless. Now I understand why you’ve had that look on your face all day. I would too!” Meredith beamed. “You’re growing up! You’ve got a girl that loves you, a foster kid, a baby on the way, and you’re going to propose. What the hell happened to you?”

“Haha, I’d say I don’t know but the truth is, I do. Jo happened.”

Meredith patted his face, “Okay. So I’m going to be the godmother, right? I swear if you give it to Cristina, I will haunt you after I die.”

Alex rolled his eyes, “I have to talk to Jo first but yes, I think you’d be the perfect godmother for my kids.”

“You have to come over and get that ring. It’s sitting in my sock drawer. You’re lucky Derek hasn’t found it and started asking questions yet. Or worse, one of my kids.”

“I know. I’ll come get it this weekend. I was hoping we could maybe come over and introduce Beau to the kids. I think it would be a good way to get him to be more comfortable with everyone.”

“Of course!” Meredith nodded. “We can have Sunday brunch with the kids. We can make waffles.”

“Sounds good to me.”

The stood there for a minute taking in the moment before Meredith pulled on the emergency stop button, “We’ve been in here too long. I was so excited about your news I forgot that we have patients.”

“I know me too.”

The elevator doors opened and as he stepped out, Alex heard Meredith call him, “Alex!”

He turned to look at his closest friend, “Yeah?”

“You are going to be great.”

He smiled as he thanked her genuinely. Yeah today was a great day. But he knew it wouldn’t compare to all the amazing tomorrows to come.

#jolex fanfic #jolex #jo wilson #jo karev #alex karev #jo and alex #fanfic #greys fanfic #greys anatomy #jolex babies #greys au #jolex au #justin chambers #camilla luddington #jo x alex #jo wilson x alex karev #jolex forever #alexander michael karev #josephine brooke karev

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orions-nebula · 5 years ago

Text

I’m Ready Now (1) Steve Rogers x Reader.

Summary: You don’t remember when you started falling in love with Steve. What you do know is that with each year that passed by you fell even more in love with him. Despite the years of friendship and special nights spent together, there were constant mixed signal tossed left and right which made you doubt. One day everything changes and you find yourself going through a major life altering moment.

Warnings: Curse words, mentions of panic attacks & anxiety nothing too bad, maybe a bit of fluff? Word count: 2,837

Here’s the Prologue, if you would like to read it. :)

IMPORTANT A/N: Hey you guys, I just wanted to let you that Tumblr is not posting my content under the tags. I learned that many people are having the same problem. I tagged you here if you like the prologue that I posted. I hope you guys do not mind me tagging you, but if you do have an issue with this please let me know and I will remove you from the tags.

I would also GREATLY appreciate it if you guys re-blogged my story since it will be the only way I can get it out there until Tumblr fixes the problem with the tags, but if you don’t want to, you don’t have to you have to. :) Fingers crossed so that this all clears out soon!!! Regardless, I hope you enjoy Part 1.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- You’ve been pinning over him for a while now. How could you not? You fell in love with the man who hid behind a mask of confidence in hopes of hiding the uncertainty, the loss of love, the anger, rancor, and bitterness of what the world had done to him.

Yet, it wasn’t always like that. Not in the beginning.

You had just been officially cleared by Fury to become an Avenger. You had passed all your educational, psychological, physical, and combat tests with flying colors. You worked hard for it, training every day and every night. In one way or another. Expanding your mind and body to become the best version of yourself. At the end it paid off, you were the only agent out of the hundreds that had signed up for the same position. A position in the Avengers team.

It had been your second month at the Tower as an Avenger when Steve Rogers came back from his three-month-long mission. It was the following day when you were introduced to him. He whispered a simple hello and kept to himself. Which you didn’t take personally. To be honest you didn’t care. Everyone was wrapped around his little finer, fawning over him like he was an ethereal being. Just seeing how everyone practically worshiped the floor he walked on made you feel mad. It was the same floor you walked on and so did everyone else! He got so much special treatment and attention it was ridiculous, which annoyed you to no end.

Why did he get special treatment? Was it because he was 'Captain America?' All the women practically threw themselves at him and for what? Just because he was deemed good looking and ‘hot’? What made him so special? Was it the fact that he’s a super solider and saved the world multiple times? Because Black Widow didn’t have any powers, neither did Hawkeye or the Falcon and they also saved the world many times. Or is it because people feel respect or maybe it was pity? Who knows, you certainly didn’t know. It wasn’t until the eight-month, after you met Steve, that something changed. It’s as if there was a switch that had been turned on which caused Steve to act friendlier towards you. And for some reason that had a minor effect on you.

It was your day off when you decided to visit the tower. Even though you had your own living space at the Compound you chose to live out in the city, in a nice upper Manhattan apartment. You just wanted some control over your own life, away from the superhero life.

It had been about a week since you last saw the gang, since you hadn’t been called in for any missions. On the eight day of your “mini-vacation” you decided to visit everyone.

As you drove to the Compound you smiled to yourself. You felt excited to see your friends, more like family. You were thankful that you got along with everyone. You had fit in perfectly and everyone loved you. How could they not? You were sweet, caring, silly, thoughtful, and always willing to help.

Steve for some reason was very reserved around you. He didn’t talk to you or joked around with you the way he did with the rest of the team. The most interaction you two shared were simple nods and quiet hellos.

Tony, however, adored you. You were one of the very few that was able to put up with. On the contrary, you sometimes encouraged him to be sillier and crazier, which he loved, because he knew that he could be his true self around you, and if he ever took it too far you would let him know. Most importantly you were there for him whenever he had a panic attack or when his anxiety spiked.

The closer you got to the compound the faster your fingers drummed against the steering wheel.

Your mind drifted to your favorite girl friend, Natasha, who you quickly saw as an older sister. You hoped to spend some quality time with her.

Natasha was happy to finally have another girl on the team. She and Wanda could only control the boys so much. Plus, having another girl made girls night more fun.

You smiled in excitement as you finally reached the compound. Once you parked your car in the garage you made your way inside, scanned yourself in and walked to the elevators. After scanning your handprint into the pad you asked Friday to take you to the common room and kitchen that was specifically for the Avengers.

“Of course, Miss (L/N).”

“Thanks Friday.” You said as you stepped out and walked towards the couch.

That’s where you saw Natasha perched on top of the couch sipping on a glass of red wine, watching The Umbrella Academy.

“Hey! I thought we were going to watch the show together! Nat!”

“Eew, what are you doing here?” She faked gagged.

“Wow I see I’m not welcomed, Romanoff.” You smirked.

“It’s nice to know you got my text.”

“I didn’t know you sent a text…”

“No wonder. I had already told everyone you probably wouldn’t make it tonight since you never replied, but I’m glad you were able to make it.” She smiled softly at you.

“I haven’t been on my phone. I’m sorry.” You replied sheepishly.

“Don’t apologize, it’s okay, just figured you were busy with something or maybe someone?” She winked at you as she continued sipping on her wine.

You gasped, ready to explain yourself when Steve popped his head from the kitchen and to your surprise greeted you in a chipper tone.

“Y/N! Hey! What are you doing here? Nat said you weren’t coming tonight.”

“Oh, um yeah, I didn’t realize you guys had something going on. Didn’t check my phone. I was just stopping by to say hello.”

“Well come take a seat. Dinner is almost ready. Sam is cooking tonight.” He smiled at you.

You smiled back at Steve and followed him into the dining room that connected to the kitchen. When you walked in you saw Sam stirring something in a pot.

“Hey Sam.”

“Eeeey (Nickname)! Look who finally decided to show up!”

When he turned around you snorted. He was wearing the most ridiculous apron you had ever seen that read “Kiss the Chef.”

He saw you looking at his apron and wiggled his eyebrows, “Wanna give me a kiss me? Come on, I’ll even let you give me as many kisses as you want.”

You burst out laughing, shaking your head, “you wish Samuel. You wish.” He stuck his tongue out at you and went back to stirring.

Steve turned to you and offered you a seat, pulling the chair out letting you sit and then pushing it back in.

“Thank you, Steve.” You smiled softly at him.

“Of course. Now, what can I get you to drink? Water, wine, some juice?”

“Water is just fine, thank you.”

“Awwwh, look at that! Aren’t you guys just cute?” Tony smirked as he stepped in the kitchen and sat down, looking between you and Steve.

His comment had taken you by surprise, but you just ignored it while Steve rolled his eyes and got you a glass of water.

Tony turned to you and raised an eyebrow. “So sweet cheeks, where you been all week?”

“I’ve been home, cleaning, reading, and um, doing a bit of volunteering.” You looked up to Steve and thanked him as he sat the glass of water in front of you.

“I’m going to round up everyone for dinner,” Steve said as he started walking out of the kitchen.

Tony waved him off and continued eyeing you. “Volunteering? No hot dates? Come on (Y/N), what are you? Eighty?”

“Well Mr. Starky some of us like to spend our free time in different ways. Not all of us need to have wild sex and get drunk to have a good time.”

Tony pursed his lips at your comment, “never call me that again sweet cheeks.” But then he smirked. “Maybe you can take old Rogers with you next time. God knows you both need a date.”

You tried not blushing at his comment, but you definitely couldn’t hold in after the follow-up comment Tony made.

“Now that I think about it, you guys would make a cute couple. Don’t you think so Wilson?”

You interrupted Sam before he could speak, “Okaaay, that’s enough of that.”

You stood up and started setting the table as a distraction, while Sam and Tony kept on making jokes. You didn’t want to admit it but what Tony said made you feel flustered for some unknown reason.

That night, as you drove back to your apartment, your thoughts drifted to what Tony said about Steve and you.

Me and Steve? Ha! I doubt it, I’m probably not even his type. You thought to yourself.

From that night you decided to ignore whatever that was. And you did, you didn’t think about it not, not again until a couple of months later.

Tony had invited you, and Steve to dinner. You were celebrating your first year as an Avenger. You had just placed your drink orders when Tony turned to you.

“I’m sorry sweet cheeks, but I promise you that once everyone gets back, we’ll throw you a big ass party! Something better than tonight.”

Everyone was either on a mission or away for some important event. You knew that Nat, Sam, Wanda, and Vision were away on a mission in Argentina. Clint flew back home to his family when he got an emergency call, apparently his son fell off a tree and broke his leg. Bruce was called to India, where he previously worked before joining the Avengers, to help train some of the doctors and nurses that were interning while giving their time as volunteers. And Thor was off-world.

That left you, Tony, and Steve by yourselves. Tony, not passing up an opportunity to celebrate or spend money, decided to take you out to dinner. He invited Steve along since he was at the Compound as well.

“Are you kidding me? This place is awesome! When I said I wanted sushi I mean from like Sushi Yasaka not freaking Masa!” You quietly, but gratefully, explained.

“Well you deserve the best. As a matter of fact, let’s start planning! What theme would you like it to be? You name it and I’ll pay it.” You laughed at the silly motto Tony came up with.

“It’s okay Tony, you don’t have to throw a big party. I wouldn’t mind if it was just us, the team celebrating. You know, something simple and private?”

“Awwh come on (Nickname)! That’s no fun, live a little.” Tony complained as you shook your head at him.

“Tony,” Steve warned.

“I appreciate it Tony. Like I said, I rather it be just the nine of us. Plus, I wouldn’t want to spend it with anyone else.

Steve looked at you and showed his gratitude, “I know I don’t say it often, but uh, you’re a valuable asset to the team. You brought a new dynamic to the team and you not only have our backs out in the field but in our everyday lives as well. We’re very lucky to have you (Y/N). Thank you for everything.”

“That’s, that’s sweet of you Steve. Thank you.”

“Yeah (Nickname), you know we love you and whatever you want or need, we got you,” Tony said as he gave you a side hug.

“Whatever you need (Y/N).” Steve reiterated as he reached for your hand, giving it a light squeeze.

You smiled at him, looking straight into his eyes, and that was the first time you noticed how clear and blue they were. Full of comfort and admiration. Or maybe it was respect? It made you feel calm, as if you could drown in depths of the calming waters.

After the drinks were brought out and the first appetizers were set down, you all began joking. Sharing all sorts of funny and embarrassing memories. The night progressed with a lot of drinking and pictures being sent to the team from Tony, in hopes of making the others feel jealous of your night out.

The check was brought out and paid for, but not without Steve insisting he and Tony should split. Only to have Tony fire back, “Come on Rogers, I invited so I’m paying. Plus, I’m a multi-billionaire, I like showing off.”

Steve shook his head as you all stood up to head over the valet area. Once you were all inside Tony’s R8, you couldn’t help but express your gratitude.

“Thank you, you guys. Don’t tell the rest of the team, especially Natasha, but I’m happy we got to spend time, just the three us.” It was at that moment Steve turned to look at you and for some reason you got that feeling, again! That queasy feeling.

Why did he keep looking at you like that? And why did it keep making you feel that way? Most importantly, why did he start acknowledging you all of a sudden when just three months ago he practically gave you the cold shoulder?

You probably should have turned away from him but you couldn’t help it, so you just kept staring at Steve. Mesmerized by how beautiful he looked, with the New York lights dancing off those beautiful azure eyes.

No. You thought to yourself, but that was easier said than done.

You guessed it was in that night when you started to see Steve in a different light. His smiles brought you warmth and his laughter made your day brighter, but you knew that he wasn’t showing his true self. His façade he put it to reserve his heart just made you yearn to get to know him.

In truth, you never saw him as Captain America, nor as the perfect image of Freedom that represents all of America. You always saw him as just a man who needed to be in control of everything, but you soon realized that there was more to him. More to him than what people painted him to be. You kept telling yourself that he never opened up to you in the first place, but you also never tried to reach out either.

The more you observed him and hanged out around him, the more you got to learn about him. He didn’t need to tell you anything, but you saw how hard he tried to hide his pain, his struggles, and the PTDS he suffered from.

That’s when you decided you would try to get to know him. The real him that no one knows about. You decided you would do your best to see him smile, just to see him feel the warmth he is so deserving of.

Which how you found yourself asking him if he was alright. “Steve, are you sure? You can trust me you know. I’ll always have your back, just like you said you would for me.”

“I- I don’t, ugh. Sam was supposed to be here, well should have been here, but he called away on a mission. We, uh more like he was helping me look for Bucky. I just got a new trail leading to Bucky and I can’t, I-” Steve exhaled frustratedly.

“Hey. Steve, take a deep breath, it’s okay. We’re talking about Sargent Barnes, right?” Steve simply nodded at your question. “Okay. I’ll help you. Just tell me what you need me to do.” Steve looked up at you with optimism in his eyes.

“Are you sure? I know you had plans today to see your friend, I don’t-”

“Steve, seriously it’s not a problem at all. Bucky is important to you, he’s your family. And we do whatever we can for our family. I’ll just call my friend and let her know I can’t make it today. Give me one second.”

You walked towards the back of the room dialing your friend, while Steve watched you intently. “Hey Karen, I’m sorry, but I won’t be able to make it today. Something important came up.”

Steve felt a slight tug in his chest at hearing your words, something important came up. Important. You were so willing to help him, despite not knowing Bucky, despite him never talking to you about Bucky. You pushed aside your plans and your friend just to help him find his friend.

Had you always been this kind? This caring? How had he missed it?

“Ready?”

“I’m ready. T-thank you.” Steve said, trying not to let his emotions get to him. Finding Bucky meant a lot to him, he was his brother, and here you were doing something that meant a lot to Steve. Here you were ready to help him find his brother.

Steve smiled at you, grabbed you by the hand, and pulled in for a tight hug.

Yup. Easier said than done.

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

Part 2

A/N: I’m sorry for any mistakes I tried my best to fix any typos and whatnot. I also wanted to let you guys know that I’m working from home, so I will try my very best to update at least every other day and if I can’t then every 2-3 days.

Again, thank you for actually reading my story!

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dorkylittleweirdo · 5 years ago

Text

Hilson Hanahaki

Birds chirped in the clear, blue sky, enjoying the warm weather as they searched for food to bring their young. The trees were green with life, some of them flowering. The tall grass shot up from the ground, framing the delicate flowers that sprung from its depths. A gentle breeze shook a few loose leaves from the trees, and they floated lazily through the air, passing by the hospital.

Wilson sat at his desk, staring out the window at the birds and leaves that passed his office. He blinked himself back to reality, shaking the lingering thoughts from his head. He tried to focus on his work, but soon turned away to let out a few harsh coughs into his hand. He pulled his hand away, his shoulders dropping as he stared at the pale yellow primrose petals in his hand.

It was springtime, which meant that anyone with hanahaki disease was suffering. Wilson knew a few others at the hospital with the disease, and all of them were struggling to keep it on the down low. Wilson knew if House discovered his affliction, he would never let him hear the end of it. To make matters worse, House was the cause of Wilson's suffering. Imagining the smug look on the diagnostician's face was almost as painful to Wilson as the hanahaki. He tossed the petals into his trash can. He'd made it through years of being hopelessly in love with House, surely he could manage through the spring. After all, he'd been doing it every year for longer than he could remember.

House spun around in his chair, glaring at the forget-me-not petals in his hand. He crushed them in his hand, roughly shoving them into his pocket. He silently cursed Wilson for making him sick, but knew it was useless to try hating the man. He was sick because he was in love with that damn oncologist. House shook his head angrily, coughing up more petals into his hand and forcing them into his already-full pockets. He let out a huff, leaning back in his chair and gazing out the window. This was going to be a long few months. House pushed himself up from his chair, grabbing his cane and limping out of his office. He made his way to Wilson's office, forcefully opening the door and walking in.

Wilson glanced up from his paperwork, setting his pen down with a sigh and getting more comfortable in his chair. He watched as House flopped down in the seat in front of his desk, kicking his legs up onto the desk, effectively knocking a few things to the floor. Wilson shut his eyes, inhaling deeply through his nose, and opening them back up when he exhaled. He couldn't believe that this was the man he was in love with.

"Oops," House said simply in his normal, sarcastic tone.

"What do you want?" Wilson sighed, moving to pick up the supplies House had knocked to the ground. He pushed his feet off the desk, placing the objects back in their original positions.

"I can't just stop in and say hi? I have to want something?" He gasped, feigning offence as he moved a hand over his chest, looking at Wilson with a hurt expression.

"No, you can't. So what do you want?"

"Nothing."

"You're lying. You wouldn't have come in here if-" Wilson held up a finger, turning away to cough into his hand. He felt more petals climbing up his throat, then landing in his hand, which he kept tightly clamped over his mouth. He bent down, making sure House couldn't see him throwing the yellow petals into the trash. He came back up with a pen that he kept under his desk for this reason.

"I knew it," House declared, standing abruptly from his seat. He pressed his palms against the desk and leaned forward, squinting at Wilson.

"Knew what?" He implored, not meeting House's eyes.

"You have hanahaki," he stated confidently, staring intensely at Wilson, who finally met his gaze with an annoyed look.

"I have hayfever," Wilson objected, shaking his head. "I'm allergic to ragweed."

"Ragweed makes you sneeze," House pointed out. "And I'm sure if I look through your trash can, I'll find all the proof I need." He walked around to where Wilson sat, glowering at him when he blocked the trash can.

"I'm not letting you dig through the trash," Wilson stated incredulously, furrowing his brows in confusion and slight disgust.

"Because you have something to hide," House speculated, earning an aggravated eye roll from the oncologist.

"I don't," he chided, shaking his head and turning his attention back to the work in front of him.

"Then let me look."

"You're acting like a child."

House advanced towards the trash, holding Wilson back with his cane and quickly snatching it. He peered inside, then quickly tossed it back, having confirmed his suspicion. Wilson stared at him wide-eyed, unsure of how House would react. To his surprise, House said nothing, only turned and limped out of his office. Wilson watched him leave in stunned silence, taking notice of a small, blue object that fluttered out of his pocket.

As soon as the door closed, Wilson was out of his seat, moving to inspect the fragment. He picked it up, his brown eyes widening with realization. He carefully held the tattered blue petal in his hand, frowning as he walked back to his chair, throwing himself down into it. He let out a heavy sigh, staring at the petal in his hand. There was no doubt in his mind that House also had hanahaki disease, but that also meant that there was no way he loved him back. Wilson set the blue petal on his desk as he began hacking up more yellow petals. A few drops of blood flecked the delicate flowers, the bright red contrasting harshly against the yellow. Wilson grimaced slightly. He hadn't expected this much blood until at least a couple more weeks, which meant his condition was advancing quicker this year. He groaned audibly, throwing the blood-stained petals into the trash in frustration. How he hated being jealous.

House limped back to his office, leaning heavily on his cane. He couldn't believe that Wilson hadn't told him he was in love with someone, and what was more unbelievable was that he hadn't figured it out. He slammed his office door upon entering, throwing his cane down in frustration. He popped a couple vicodin into his mouth, swallowing them down as he favored his leg slightly, slowly lowering himself into his seat. He leaned his head back, glaring at the work in front of him as his mind raced. He inhaled deeply, triggering another fit of coughing. He spat up more clumps of blue petals, cursing his love for that damn oncologist that didn't love him back. Love really did hurt.

Wilson decided to confront House at lunch, inviting him to a small diner near the hospital. He sat at a table, fiddling with the flower petal while he waited for House to arrive. He looked up when he heard someone sit across from him, offering the diagnostician a tight smile.

"Where's the menu?" House demanded, not bothering with a greeting.

"I already ordered," Wilson grumbled. "And hello to you too, by the way."

"You ordered for me?" He inquired, quirking a brow at him. He completely ignored the attempt at a greeting.

Wilson rolled his eyes, shaking his head slightly as he folded his arms across his chest with a small shrug. "I know what you like." He regretted saying those words the moment they left his mouth. He quickly grabbed the napkin from his lap, placing it over his mouth and choking up more bloodied primrose petals into it. He gasped for air the moment the small fit ended, and looked up at House, who was staring at him with an expression he couldn't quite place.

"That's what you get for loving someone," House remarked, taking a long drink from his water glass.

"You're one to talk," Wilson scoffed, looking him up and down.

House glared at him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Wilson placed the small forget-me-not petal onto the table, watching as House's clear, blue eyes momentarily filled with fear before returning to their normal, unamused state. Wilson tilted his head slightly, his gentle, brown eyes full of concern and empathy.

"You think that's mine?" House questioned, looking slightly offended. "I don't do love."

"Then why did it fall out of your pocket this morning?"

"You clearly saw wrong."

"I didn't."

"You really think I'd be stupid enough to fall in love? Love is just a chemical-" House was cut off by a harsh bout of coughing. Small, blue petals fluttered from his mouth before he could hide it, the red tinge of blood mixed with the brilliant blue. He recomposed himself after a few moments, not daring to look at Wilson's face. He stood from the table, hobbling back out without even waiting for his food.

"House!" Wilson called, desperate to talk to him about this. He watched helplessly as the man he loved walked away from him. He coughed up more petals, a stray tear streaking down his cheek from both the force of the painful fit and the even more painful confirmation that House was in love with another. There was nothing else he could do except wait for the food and bill, his mind endlessly cycling through everything he wanted to say to House.

House limped back to the hospital, an angry look on his face. He hit the button on the elevator with the bottom of his cane, waiting impatiently for the doors to open. He stepped into the elevator and pressed the button of his desired floor, watching the metal doors close once again. He walked out of the elevator as soon as the doors opened on his floor, making his way down the hallway to his office and throwing himself into his seat, exhaling deeply.

He reached a hand into his pocket, revealing a fistful of small, bright blue petals. He frowned, his brow furrowed as he violently threw the clump at his garbage can. Forget-me-nots fluttered about, some of the petite petals missing the trash and landing noiselessly on the ground. House turned away, not caring that there was obvious proof of his condition littering his office floor. He gagged on more of the small flowers as they clawed their way up his throat, leaning forward to spit them out into the trash. He let out a small, pained groan as he leaned back in his office chair, a couple more coughs escaping his lips, petals following suit. House picked up one of the petals, turning it in his hand. The forget-me-not was tattered, but a petal away from being a whole flower.

He popped another vicodin, pondering how he would survive another spring with his hanahaki already getting this bad. He tried to work through his mind who Wilson could possibly be in love with, but couldn't fathom who. House rubbed his temples, frustrated with himself that he couldn't figure it out. He was only sure about one thing: Wilson wasn't in love with him. The thought alone caused him to hack up more petals, each flower more complete than the last. Droplets of blood flew from his mouth and splattered on his desk and papers. He glared at the bright red splotches, running a hand through his hair.

More thoughts flooded through his consciousness, and he pondered each thought. He could easily get the surgery to remove the infection, but he wasn't sure if he wanted to lose his feelings for Wilson. But Wilson didn't love him back. The surgery would get rid of every lingering feeling for him, and he could go back to his normal life. He wondered what normal would feel like, as he had only known love for Wilson for years. Ultimately, he decided that the surgery would be his best option, and made a call to schedule his surgery for the following week. As soon as he placed the phone down, Wilson walked in with a plastic bag.

"Here," Wilson sighed, placing the bag on his desk.

House peered suspiciously into the bag. A to-go box sat inside, which he pulled out and opened. "What did you do to it?" He inquired, inspecting the sandwich.

"Nothing," Wilson huffed, shaking his head irritably.

"You drug it?"

"Why would I knowingly give you more drugs? Let alone waste them on you."

"I dunno, Jimmy. You're the one who drugged my food."

"You don't have to eat it."

House quickly grabbed one of the halves and stuffed it into his mouth, taking a massive bite. He chewed the sandwich, staring innocently at Wilson, who only shook his head again.

"So… can we talk?" Wilson asked, a pleading look in his eyes as he pulled up a chair.

"This was a peace offering," House mumbled through a mouthful of food.

"I didn't know how else to get you to talk," he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I just-"

"I'm getting the surgery."

Wilson froze. "What?" He croaked, his mouth dry.

"I'm getting the surgery," he repeated, not meeting Wilson's horrified gaze.

"But- but you know the effects of it. You- you'll never be able to fall in love again, and-"

"I know," House snapped, balling his hand into fists. "But there's no point in being in love with someone who doesn't love me back."

"But-"

"But nothing. I'm getting the surgery."

Wilson let out another series of harsh coughs, the pale yellow primrose petals being forced from his lungs by the violent expulsion of air. He doubled over in the chair, gagging into his hand and heaving, blood-stained flowers rushing out of his mouth. He gasped for a breath, staring down in horror at the tattered flowers in his hand. He wasn't expecting whole flowers until the end of spring.

"Maybe you should get the surgery, too," House deadpanned, earning a pointed glare from Wilson. He held out the trash can to the oncologist, shaking it slightly.

Wilson gathered the primrose into his hands, moving to toss them into the trash. He noticed the forget-me-nots in the garbage, the small blue flowers also nearly whole. He hesitated for a moment, then tossed the pale yellow flowers in with the blue ones.

"Why are you getting the surgery..?" Wilson asked softly after a while.

"I told you, it's pointless loving someone who doesn't love you back."

"If it's about the pain, there's ways to-"

"Why are you so obsessed with it?"

"I-" Wilson fidgeted in his seat, trying to think of an excuse.

"You're thinking about the surgery, too," House decided, earning a slow nod from Wilson.

He could work with this. "Yes."

"You know you're a horrible liar, right?"

"I'm not-"

"You'd never consider the surgery, you're too much of a sap for that. You'd rather die with your feelings than get rid of them."

"That's not-"

"You just want me to tell you why I want it."

"I want to know who," Wilson pleaded desperately. He was happy for House, of course. How could he not be? He never thought House was the type to truly love someone, yet here he was, quite literally lovesick.

"Get out of my office," he responded, earning a surprised look from Wilson. His blue eyes met the oncologist's brown, his sharp gaze burning into Wilson's.

"House…"

"Out."

Wilson looked like a kicked puppy, but he stood up, walking out of House's office without another word. He felt like a dog with its tail between its legs, making his way back to his office. Maybe he should just get the surgery. That would be easier than hopelessly yearning for a love that was never destined for him. Wilson shut his office door behind him after he entered, leaning heavily against the door. He slid down to the floor, his expression unreadable as he contemplated what to do next. He weighed his options, but was unable to draw any conclusion from them. House was right, he couldn't give up his feelings, no matter how much they ended up hurting him.

Almost a week had gone by since House and Wilson found out about each other's hanahaki, and neither of them had said a word to each other since House kicked Wilson out of his office. House was preparing for his surgery the following day, while Wilson was trying to build up the courage to talk to House.

Wilson sat in his office, gazing out the window at all the lush, green life that sprung up. He sighed, unable to enjoy the world around him, knowing that the man he loved would never return his feelings after tomorrow. He glanced over to his trash can, which was overflowing with bloodied primrose heads. A drop of blood dripped from one of the pale yellow plants onto the floor, the yellow flower taunting him. Yellow for jealousy, but primrose for everlasting love. How fitting for him. Wilson knew he had to talk to House before it was too late, but he didn't know what he would even say, or how to say it. But he had to try. He pushed himself up, brushing off his clothes and taking a deep breath. It was now or never.

House spun around in his chair, lost in thought. Bright blue flowers littered his office floor, as he hadn't bothered to throw them away. He moved a forget-me-not between his fingers, glaring at the small flower. He faulted the flowers for his pain, rather than his own stupidity, his own brain betraying him with emotions. He knew Wilson was the cause, but he would never blame the oncologist for his suffering. He tilted his head at the flower, his brow furrowing in thought. Memories and true love. That's what the flower represented. House wondered if that was true, if he would still remember his love for Wilson after the surgery. If he would remember Wilson at all. The door to his office swung open, revealing Wilson standing breathlessly in the doorway. House looked him up and down, surprised that he had come to see him.

"What do you want?" House demanded, pretending to be busy.

Wilson shifted uncomfortably in the doorway, taking a cautious step into the office and closing the door behind him. "Your, uh… your surgery is tomorrow," he stated somewhat awkwardly, advancing to House's desk and taking a seat. "I just.. wanted to check in."

“I’m fine,” House retorted, watching as Wilson scanned the floor in shock. “Or at least I will be, as soon as I get this taken care of.”

“And you- you’re sure about the surgery?” He asked, hoping the answer would be negative.

“You won’t change my mind.”

“I know, I’m just.. making sure. I’m thinking about getting it done, too…”

“No, you’re not.” House was mildly unnerved by Wilson’s expression and the seriousness in his voice. “You really are thinking about it?”

“There’s.. no point staying sick if you get your infection removed,” Wilson said quietly, not meeting House’s curious gaze.

“Why not? At least you still have a chance,” House scoffed, raising a brow at Wilson when he shook his head sadly.

“Not if you get the surgery.”

“What are you saying?” House knew damn well what Wilson was saying, but he needed to hear it for himself.

Wilson stood from his seat, taking a breath before gazing longingly into House’s eyes. “I love you,” he confessed softly, offering House a lopsided smile. He waited a moment for House’s reaction, but the diagnostician sat still. He let out a sigh, then turned to leave.

“You idiot!” House growled, pressing his palms to the edge of his desk, standing abruptly from his seat. He approached Wilson, the pain in his leg long-forgotten as adrenaline surged through his veins.

Wilson whipped his head back around, turning to face House with a nervous expression. “I- I didn’t- I couldn’t just.. tell you, I-”

House grabbed Wilson’s face in his hands, tilting his head and leaning forward, pulling Wilson’s face to his and smashing his lips against the oncologist’s. Wilson took a step back, momentarily thrown off balance by the force of House’s chapped lips colliding with his own. He recovered quickly, gripping House’s hips and roughly yanking them against his own as he kissed back. The feeling was almost overwhelming. Both of them had waited years for this moment, and neither of them wanted it to end. Almost immediately, Wilson felt the hanahaki releasing its hold on his lungs, as did House. When they reluctantly pulled away from each other, they could breathe clearly.

“Do you have any idea how many years I suffered waiting for you to say that?” House complained, earning a pointed glare from Wilson. He removed his hands from Wilson’s face, draping his arms over his shoulders instead.

“You could’ve said something, too. Don’t you dare pin this on me,” he responded, his hands not leaving House’s hips.

“You’re the one who always wants to talk about your feelings.”

“I hate you.”

“That’s not what you hanahaki says,” House quipped, causing Wilson to give a heavy sigh.

“Remind me why I’m in love with you, again?” He groaned, giving House a tired look.

The diagnostician responded by pressing another quick kiss to Wilson’s lips. House felt him smile into the kiss as he eagerly reciprocated, moving a hand up to grip his shirt and pulling him in closer. They pulled apart once more, Wilson giving House a fond smile.

"I'll tell them the surgery's off," House stated, resting his forehead against Wilson's.

Wilson's smile broadened as he wrapped the taller man in a hug. He felt House tense slightly, but it quickly melted away as he awkwardly returned the hug. Wilson buried his face into House's shoulder, taking in his scent. A ghost of a smile hinted at House's face as he tangled a hand in Wilson's thick, brunette hair. They remained in that position for a long while, their bodies pressed up against each other. After craving each other's love and touch for so many years, they weren't willing to part from each other. Maybe this wouldn't be such a long spring after all.

Tag list: @unseenuniverse @fearlessjones @submergedvampires @voidofprinciple @zarafey

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afictionaladventure16 · 6 years ago

Note

Could you do an imagine of peter Parker having an older sister and is dating Bucky Barnes (maybe make her personality all shy and clumsy)

Sorry, this took so long!! I Kept editing it!! Anyways, hope you enjoy it!!

Bucky Barnes x Peter Parker Sister!Reader (Imagine)

“Come on, Y/N!” you heard your little brother Peter say as he ran up to the building ahead of you guys, he’d been wanting to show you the famous Avengers building ever since he himself has become one. You were one of the only ones to know about Peter’s secret, after all, Peter couldn’t keep any secret from you. You would instantly know if he were hiding something. That’s just how close you two are, even with the six-year age difference.

“Slow it down, Parker! I’m an old lady!” You could already tell Peter was rolling his eyes.

“I’m just excited to show my older sister off,” this made you roll your eyes.

“I got a bad feeling about this,” you muttered to yourself. You followed Peter into the building, he called out to his friends or co-workers, you’re not sure what to call them.

“You’ve got a bad feeling about everything,” Peter whispered, “come on, Y/N, I just want to show off my older sister, you’re never around anyway.”

That stung you for some reason, you always tried to be there for Peter but since you’ve been traveling for so long, you have been distancing yourself. “I know and I’m sorry for that, Peter. But I promise all that’s going to change now, especially since I’m home now.”

Peter smiled at you, “I’m so glad you’re home,” he walked up to you, engulfing you into a brotherly hug.

“That was the cutest thing I’ve ever seen!” An unfamiliar voice said, you quickly turned around and noticed a man with a goatee staring at you and Peter, a man known as Tony Stark.

“Mr. Stark! I want you to meet someone!” Mr. Stark made his way over to the both of you.

“I’m assuming you’re Peters older sister, the one he won’t stop rambling on about,” He gave you a small smile as you shook his hand.

“That’s me,” you said as you gave Peter a small glare.

“He speaks so highly of you, trust me, spiderboy won’t shut up about it. Get’s annoying sometimes,” Tony said with a sigh.

“I had to live with him, I know how annoying he can be,” you said with a small smirk.

“Hey!” Peter defended.

“Anyways, Vision wanted to speak with you,” Tony said to Peter. Peter looking over at you, “don’t worry, I can give her a tour, honestly, I give the best tours here.”

Peter rolls his eyes, “I’ll see you later for lunch, sis!” he looks over at Tony, “take care of her,” he said softly as he walked off.

“Charming young man, isn’t he?” Tony said as you both watched him walk away.

“Yeah, he sure does act like he’s older than me, though,” you scoffed, you always thought it was annoying, but you knew he only did it because he cared.

“He cares,” Tony smiled, “Come on, let me introduce you to some friends.”

I followed Tony towards what looked like a living room but it was so spacious. “Wow,” I mouthed as I looked around the room, I noticed a group talking amongst themselves.

“Well, well, well, who is this fine young lady?” I heard a voice say,

“This is Peter’s older sister, Y/N,” Tony said as he gestured towards me.

I saw a man walking towards me, gently grabbing my hand as he placed a small kiss on my hand. He sure was a charmer but not my type, “It’s very nice to meet you, Y/N.”

“And you are?” I asked as I gently yanked my hand away from his grip.

“Sam Wilson,” he grinned.

I gave him a simple nod, “rejected,” I heard a lady’s voice say. I couldn’t help but stifle a laugh, “this is Nat,” Tony said as he gestured towards her. “Famously known as the Black Widow.”

“It’s so nice to finally place a face with the name, you know your little brother doesn’t stop talking about you,” Nat said as she walked up to, giving you a firm handshake.

You smiled, oh how you were going to use this to your advantage later with Peter, “so I’ve heard,” you said.

“Hi, I’m Steve Rogers,” An all too familiar looking guy said as he came up to you, giving you a handshake.

“You’re Captain America,” you whispered. You noticed that you were about to fangirl, I mean, how couldn’t you? It’s freaking Captain America for heaven’s sake! “Sorry,” you quickly apologized but he just grinned, “it’s perfectly fine,” he said.

He turned to a dark-haired man, that stood behind him, “this is Bucky.” He seemed shy, from everything you had known about Bucky Barnes from all the history museums on Captain America, you had thought that Bucky would be more extroverted in a way. Never shy.

“Nice to meet you,” you gave him a small smile and for some reason, you didn’t know why but you just felt so shy in front of Bucky. He gave you a smile, and you swear you felt your heart melt.

Tony introduced you to the rest of the Avengers. Nat was the first to suggest drinks, of course, you couldn’t help yourself to a drink though.

“She’s cute,” Bucky said to Steve as they stood a distance from Y/N.

“Who?” Steve asked as he looked around.

Bucky rolled his eyes, “Peter’s sister.”

“Ahhh, explains why you went all shy in front of her,” Steve mumbled, “Why don’t you go talk to her?”

“talk to her? You crazy?”

“Hey, the Bucky I remember would’ve had her number by now.”

“Yeah, well this Bucky is different, plus girls now are different… Also, I haven’t been on a date in a… A LONG TIME,” Bucky sighed, “What would I even say? I don’t have any pick-up lines…” He wanted to go over and talk to you, but he noticed that you were deep into a conversation with Nat. So instead Bucky just stood there as Steve began to have a conversation with Sam about who knows what.

Bucky couldn’t help but notice the way you threw your head back as you laughed. He found your laugh to be the most beautiful thing he had ever heard. He thought of what Peter might do if he found out that he had gone and asked his older sister out, I mean the kid was strong enough to beat him in a fight. But it was worth the try.

“I’m going to do it,” Bucky smirked,

“You don’t even got game,” Sam said.

“What does that even mean?” Bucky looked at Sam with a confused expression, Steve just shook his head, knowing exactly what his best friend was about to do as Bucky walked up to you. Bucky leaned his elbow against the counter and winked at you, “How you doin’?” You stifled a laugh.

“Oh Buck,” You heard Steve mumble.

But you found Bucky attractive and charming, and you knew his story, so you found it adorable that he used a Friends line on you, “pretty good baby, how about you?” you winked. You don’t know why you did that, you felt so embarrassed inside for doing that. Bucky looked at you shocked, surprised that you had responded that way, “don’t test me, boy, I’m a huge friend’s fan,” you defended

He was still in awe, “I just finished it! Peter actually got me to watch it.”

“Oh yeah?” He nods.

“He’s a good kid,” Bucky said.

“Yeah, well, I helped raise him, I mean yeah Aunt May put in most of the work but for a while, it was just me and him and well… after what happened to Mom and Dad… Peter and I needed each other more than anything.” You chuckled, “I’m sorry, I tend to overshare when I’m comfortable.”

“It’s okay.”

You got up from the stool, but your foot got caught in the bottom of the stool, you were expecting the impact of the floor meeting your face but instead, you felt someone’s arms catch you.

“Should be more careful next time,” Bucky breathed out.

You chuckled as Bucky helped you to your feet, “yeah, I have the tendency to trip over the air.” You grabbed your glass that sat on the counter, “want to join me on a walk?”

“S-sure!” Bucky seemed surprised you had asked him to join him. You guys began to walk down the hall, “So, how big is the age gap between you and Peter?”

“Six years,” You said softly.

“So, that would make you-“

“Twenty-two going onto twenty-three.”

“Any boyfriend?”

You blushed and shook your head, “No,” You whispered, “absolutely not.”

Bucky wondered why you were so negative about it, “any particular reason?”

“Have you seen me?” you chuckled, “it’s the main reason as to why.”

He shook his head, “I have seen you and trust me, I am so surprised you are not taken.”

You blushed again, “you’re just saying that to be nice.”

“No, I’m not,” Bucky said, “You’re gorgeous, I mean, Sam instantly hit on you as soon as you walked through those doors.” You shrugged but you knew he was right, “You know, I went over to you with the intentions of asking you out,” Bucky said as a small blush flooded his cheeks.

“Really?” You couldn’t believe it. Bucky nods, “so, why didn’t you?”

“Well, I remembered what Peter can do and I kind of got scared,” he chuckled, “but-“

“But?”

“Ah, fuck it,” He sighed as he stopped walked to turn to you, “Y/N, would you go out with me? I would love to know more about you because I find you to be the most gorgeous girl, I have ever laid eyes on.” You could feel your cheeks warming up, you instantly covered your face, but you felt Bucky’s hands on yours as he pulled your hands down so you can look him in the eyes, “what do you say? Go on a date with me, doll?”

Your heart melted even more at that nickname, you smiled, “yes.”

“Whoaa! I leave for like thirty minutes!” You heard Peter say, you rolled your eyes, “it was an hour and I’m a big girl, Peter.”

You could feel Peter glaring at Bucky, “you hurt my big sister.”

“I know what you’re capable of, no need to warn me,” Bucky said as he let out a small chuckle, “and trust me, I have no intention of harming your sister in any way.” Bucky looked at you and winked. You didn’t know what lied ahead of you, but you had never felt so happy in your life. So excited for the adventures ahead of you.

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roguesandsaviors · 5 years ago

Text

A Different Sort of Case

Fandom: House, MD

Characters: Hattie (OFC), Greg House, James Wilson, Ducklings

Pairing: House x OC (platonic)

Summary: Hattie ends up at PPTH and comes across someone that she thought that she would never see again.

Word Count:2,120

Rating: SFW

Warnings: Hospitalization, cancer mentions, illness

Author’s note: This was spawned during a re-watch of House and thanks a certain someone spamming me with Hugh Laurie. I forgot how much I enjoyed this show. I don’t know how long this fic will end up being, It has sort of taken on a life of it’s own since I had planned on it being relatively short. Hope everyone enjoys. Unbeta-ed so all mistakes are my own.

________________________________________________________

The lights above and all around me faded in and out of focus. My body wasn’t responding with anything that I asked it to do. I tried, with some amount of desperation, to move my fingers, move my legs, anything but nothing was coming of it. People were talking around me but the words were completely muffled. Nothing was making sense and a swell of panic hit me. I didn’t know what was going on but before it could get any worse, the blackness enveloped my vision and I passed out.

There was pain everywhere. I still couldn’t move my arms and legs. Something was very wrong. The sounds around me were still muffled. No one was talking but there was an annoying beep. I felt exhausted, that was what registered the most. I huffed and gave over to the exhaustion, losing all sense of what was happening around me; of what I could and couldn’t do.

*************

James had all intentions of stopping in the office and talking with House. Everyone had noticed the man cooped up more than usual in his office. His reaction to his particular case was unusual, even by House standards. There was a different level of grumpiness to the man and he was all but sleeping in his office. Which was how he found the man in question when he stopped in front of the door. He thought he was asleep; feet propped up and his head tipped back. Wilson spotted his lips moving despite his position. it was as simple as he was thinking about his current case.

Wilson stepped into the office, his first instinct proven right. House was, in fact, asleep. He crossed his arms over his chest as he observed his friend. Wilson wondered if it was worth waking him up or letting him get the rest that he likely needed.

His answer became clear to him when he heard the woman’s name mumbled. That had to be a first. House dreaming of a woman? The name repeated itself and he was quick to realize that it was the name of his current patient. That was something that he had to figure out.

Wilson slammed down one of the books that was on the desk and House jolted awake. Wilson wanted to tease the man. It wasn’t often that he got the opportunity but he wanted to know more about what was happening. That overrode his desire to tease the man.

“I hear that you have a new case.”

“We already ruled out your specialty sorry. I didn’t know you were going around poaching cases now. Is it getting that slow in oncology?” House cocked his head to the side and pulled his feet off of his desk.

“Yes, because I desperately want my department to be busy. I wish it was overflowing with people who I get to tell they are dying.”

“You said it, not me.” Under normal circumstances, Wilson would have been a bit exasperated by the comment. This was not one of those times and he let it roll right off of his back.

“You were dreaming about the patient.” Wilson pointed out, able to keep a smile off of his face by the skin of his teeth. House was obsessive yes but not that sort of obsessive. He didn’t dream about his patients.

“I was dreaming about closing the case. There’s a difference. Or do I need to disclose all my dreams to you now Mum?”

“You said her name.” Wilson pointed out. “You never know a patient’s name. And you’ve been in her room. Without her being awake.” If it wasn’t relevant in a medical sense, House didn’t bother learning it. He was sure that the man wouldn’t know if his patient was male or female if it didn’t affect the possibility of a diagnosis. He rarely, if ever saw patients either. That was a big deal.

“I needed to do an exam myself.” It was a bullshit excuse and at that moment, they both knew it. James knew better than to push his friend though. If he wanted to get this figured out, he couldn’t have the man completely closing off. It was a tendency he had when things got a little too personal. House didn’t ever, ever bother respecting personal boundaries. This was going to be the one time that James paid his friend back with a taste of his own medicine. He was going to figure this out one way or another.

*************

There were people around me. The words this time came much more clear than they had the previous times I had woken up. Several voices all spoke though I couldn’t make out what they were saying exactly. I opened my eyes and it took several long seconds for the people to come into focus. One was at my arm, drawing some blood. Another was standing looking at a vitals screen. The third had a chart in hand. They were talking to one another, not realizing I was awake yet. That was until the person at the monitor turned and saw me.

“We weren’t sure you were ever going to wake up.” A light shone in my eye without warning. “How are you feeling?”

“Give her a second to breathe.” The female was the one that spoke. I looked towards her and then the other man at my side. Not that I could move my head all that much. I realized that I was stuck in a collar. It wasn’t comfortable in the least. He didn’t say anything right away but smiled at me.

“Feel like shit,” I mumbled, trying to catch up to what was happening. I didn’t know how I ended up in the hospital. The last thing that I remembered was being on the highway, heading towards New York. “What happened?” I didn’t care who answered me, all I wanted some answers.

“The rest of you, out.” That was a familiar voice. It wasn’t like I could forget the one that I had spent the better part of my first twenty-four years on this Earth with. Of all the hospitals I could be at, it had to be Princeton-Plainsboro. We may not have talked in almost twenty-one years but I had kept up with his doings. He was a top diagnostician, something that hadn’t come as a surprise. He had needed to finish med school in the formal sense the last time we saw or spoke to one another.

“But…” All three wanted to argue with him on that front, though none of them seemed all too willing to take on the man.

“Out.” I risked looking towards one Gregory House. The cane and the limp were new. The drawn, weary, pained face was out of place on his face. Both made up a different man standing in front of me than the one I had known. He had aged well. That much I could say. I had thought about the possibility of meeting him again. Though I never imagined that it would be under these sorts of circumstances. Everything that I had come up with faded on the tip of my tongue. All those things that I had wanted to say after he had upped and left vanished. He had demanded that I leave his life but he had made the decision for me.

He moved over to the edge of the bed, not saying a damn thing to help move this along. It felt uncomfortable though what more could be expected? He was the one who had upped and left. He didn’t want me around when I had been ready to follow him wherever. Like I always had. It was a pathetic thought and one that I hadn’t grown out of despite the therapy.

“Your kidneys are failing.” Right down to business.

“That still doesn’t explain how I ended up here in the first place.”

“You’re also anemic.” I wasn’t going to get the answers that I wanted out of him so I was going to have to wait and play his game. He wasn’t going to acknowledge that he knew me, he wasn’t even looking at me. I didn’t understand why he had asked the other doctors to leave the room. He was going to pretend that I was another patient. There was nothing for him to hide and if he didn't want to say anything then I wouldn't. I couldn’t push him for it since it would only make him shut down ten times faster. House worked at his own pace and everyone else around him needed to be able to adapt to it. If they didn't, they ended up left behind in the dust.

I waited, quiet, for him to continue with whatever else he wanted to tell me. There was more there.

“And with a fever, none of that makes sense with a car wreck.” He finally looked up at me, leaning with a heavy stance on the cane, tipped to a hint to his right. There was my answer and it made sense given the last thing that I remembered. “So, the question is why.” He was asking me like I knew the answer to that. He was the one that had taken an interest in medicine. I was the one who loved history. He moved to the side of the bed, allowing me to track him with my eyes. It was a weird sensation, not being able to move the neck.

It was that moment that I tried to move my arms and legs but found that I still couldn’t.

“That should wear off in another few days.” He said as he poked at my arm. I could feel that at least. “At least in your upper half. There’s no real telling what will happen with your legs.” He was never one to pull punches. Others would have panicked about it and lashed out at him. I panicked but was grateful to know the sort of road of recovery that I was looking at. I could digest the information later and mourn for whatever I had to when I was on my own. I wasn’t about to cry in front of the man.

“I take it you’re asking why because nothing has come back conclusive?” He was silent as his eyes moved over me again. I could see that I was right though, there was no denying the twitch of his lips. “But everyone lies so it’s not like you can trust anything I have to say.” Maybe it was a subtle dig at the man, one that he wasn’t going to overlook. I knew that it had to be the last one that I threw at him.

“What are the differential diagnoses?”

“Cut them in half. Stopped the antibiotics and you aren’t getting any better. There wasn’t a hint of cancer anywhere on your scans. We were waiting to see if you took any medications but even if you did, you have been here well over a week. Anything that you take would be out of your system by now.” He wasn’t answering me about what he thought it was. Having cancer ruled out was at least reassuring. Not like I wanted to go through with that again.

“Done the cancer thing once. Nice to hear that I don’t have to do it again.”

“What?”

“Leukemia. About ten years ago.” I offered without needing him to prompt further. “Had about six months worth of radiation. A year's worth of other treatments after before they found a matching donor. Been fine since the bone marrow transplant.” He frowned and the wheels in his head were turning like that. It was as simple as a snap of the fingers.

“Should be on the bracelet that I wear.”

“You didn’t come in wearing any jewelry.”

“There’s a card in my wallet too.”

“Destroyed in the wreck, so they said.” That was sort of crucial information for any doctor to know. It was why I tried to make sure that it was available in as many different forms as possible. The bracelet must have broken off in the crash. I couldn’t do much anything about a wallet ending up destroyed in a wreck. There was no point in hiding or lying about any of that. It would be necessary if he was going to figure out what the hell was going on with me.

“Bone marrow transplant…” He muttered before leaving the room without another word. Judging by the look on his face before he left, it was enough information to trigger whatever was happening in his brain. That was good enough for me. I wasn’t sure if I would see him again.

#my writing #my fic #House fanficition #house md #Gregory House #my oc #my fanfiction

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i-guess-im-a-fanfic-writer-now · 5 years ago

Text

A better life (Chapter 15, Avengers x reader)

ay hi here’s chapter 15, will post 16 on the 2nd of February, i’ve got a lot of projects for school that i need to get done by the end of the month

at this point i have even less idea of what i’m doing than i did when i started this series, but like, technically, this is my fic and i get to do what i want, but i just don’t want to disappoint any of you, and i’m trying to bring it to a close soon, and i haven’t forgotten about the anon who asked me to write a thing and i will be starting that soon, sorry for the wait, i have reasons that i won’t go into detail unless anyone asks

i hope you enjoy this, cause i really like Tony Stark and also Peter Parker so like, obviously there’s gonna be a lot of them everywhere,, please like and reblog and comment and stuff like that, feel free to tell me what you liked or didn’t really like, i wanna know what you guys enjoy reading

tw for this: panic attack (from being touched on the shoulder)

_______

Chapter 15:

When you woke up from yet another nightmare, which you remembered better than the others, you just couldn’t go back to sleep. It was impossible. You’d been trying for half an hour, your frustration with yourself increasing from not being able to just get over it and move on with your life. It was about 5am at that point, and the sun would be rising pretty soon.

*I’m.. gonna go for a walk*, you decided. Maybe it would help. Hopefully. Maybe instead of walking in circles in your head, you could do that, but around the building. Just a few times, to clear your head. Inhale the air of the early morning, while barely anyone else was outside.

You got dressed and quietly headed through the hallway and the common room, finding yourself in front of the lift seconds later.

On your way out, you heard some snoring. You went to check where it came from, and it turned out Tony was still on the couch. He must’ve been really exhausted. Now, there was a plate of food and an empty mug standing on the table in front of him, so at least he’d woken up and had some food before going back to sleep.

You left the building. On your way back, after turning in circles around it a few times, you settled down on a comfortable bench. You inhaled deeply as the sun rose on the horizon. Half an hour later, watching the sky change colours as the giant star slowly continued its path in it, you decided to go back inside. You did have work later today, and you were receiving your paycheque, so you thought it might be good for you to try and get another hour of sleep before the day actually began.

When you got back, Tony was up, walking around in the common room. You greeted each other, and though he was confused as to why you had been outside at such an early time and really wanted the details, you asked if you could explain later. Thankfully, he accepted to wait.

You managed to get a bit of extra sleep before having to go off to work. While on lunch break, you did the same thing as you did the day before: you took some of your other belongings, and kept them in the luggage at work only to bring them back to the room you had in the Stark Tower when you got off work. During your shift, things went pretty well, but there was a few more difficult customers than usually, and by the time it was over, you couldn’t wait to get back to your room, lie back in your bed, and relax.

Though you were tired, you really wanted to hang out with Peter again for a while, maybe play some video games again since you both enjoyed it so much. So you texted him, and found out he was free the rest of the day. He was going to come by anyway, and you decided to meet in the computer room where you had met.

Maybe twenty-five minutes later, the two of you were already sitting together in the couch, playing a game you had suggested. He seemed to be really enjoying himself. He was also talking a lot about MJ again, which warmed your heart. You were reminded of how happy she made him, so you asked questions about them, to which he happily responded. After a while, he excused himself to the bathroom.

Minutes were beginning to feel like hours, maybe even days, but somehow, you managed to fall asleep in the small window of time Peter was away.

You woke up hours later, and he sat next to you. There was a blanket on you, undoubtedly placed there by Peter, which you were thankful for: the room did get a bit chilly at times because of the air conditioning in summer.

You yawned, covering your face with your hand, and briefly stretched.

“Hey, Y/N.”

“Oh, hey. Thank you”, you gestured vaguely at the blanket.

He nodded.

“Rough day?”

“Eh, I suppose. Got screamed at by some customers. It was wild.”

“Oh?” He looked a bit worried, but there was also a “wtf” look on his face.

“One was mad that her sandwich had a tomato slice. Normally this would be okay, and we would remove the slice, or we could make a new sandwich so the tomato wouldn’t touch it, but she immediately went off at me for it, even though the sandwich was pre-made. Not to mention, it visibly had a tomato in it. She demanded to speak to my manager, and when I brought him over, they talked and she stormed out of the shop. Another customer caused a scene because he “wanted one large fry, not a ton of fucking small ones.” And another one was mad because he spilled his own coffee this morning. He began screaming about it. He spilled it outside. The biggest problem? He bought it at a shop that was literally half an hour away from hours. He demanded a refund and a new drink because he’s a busy man and doesn’t want to spend more money than necessary.”

“Damn”, he muttered in disbelief.

“Yup. I tell you, I was this close to crying because of this shit. Like, this makes no sense, you know? A single big fry instead of a ton of little ones? Does he think we sell a fry the size of a dozen potatoes?”

“That really sucks. I’m sorry you had to deal with that. Honestly, though, I would eat that.” He chuckled.

You nodded in agreement, and shortly went back to playing video games for a bit longer, since he soon had to go back home.

When he left, you decided to go back to your room. You sent a message to your mother, telling her everything was fine and all that, just to get her off your back in case she was thinking of calling you.

As you stepped out of the lift, you spotted Wanda and Pietro playfully pushing each other around in a couch, and Tony and Clint drinking coffee and having a conversation at the table. Natasha was nowhere to be seen, but James Rhodes and Sam Wilson were chilling near Tony. You quietly walked over to the hallway before someone’s hand landed on your shoulder, gripping it. You grabbed the hand, feeling like you were suddenly full of dread, and threw it off, turned around, instinctively and quickly backing away. Your heart was racing, your breathing going faster than it was supposed to, and the things around you became slightly blurry, to the point of having to lean on the wall to not lose balance and fall down.

All you saw in front of you was a blurred figure of a person, and long hair the colour of fire. *Wanda.*

“Hey, shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. Are you okay? It’s just me. I won’t hurt you. It’s okay.”

In your confused and scared state, you were frantically looking for an escape route that didn’t involve being in front of people; you were trying to find your room. You were really trying to calm down though, but knowing that Wanda felt something was off the day before when you had a bad flashback, you wanted to leave immediately: you didn’t want her to know what was going on. She’d probably been through worse. It was fine. *She doesn’t need to know, Y/N.*

“Y/N, it’s okay. I get it if you don’t want to talk about whatever it is that’s making you feel bad. I’m really not sure what to do in this situation.. Do you want me to get Stark?” She seemed pretty uneasy and stressed out.

You nodded and weakly mumbled a thanks to Wanda. She left in a hurry, and you sat down on the floor, hugging your knees, trying not to hyperventilate more than you already were. You closed your eyes, trying to remind yourself that you weren’t anywhere near your mother, that no one here would hurt you, that you were safe. It wasn’t working. You could still feel the hand gripping your shoulder, and you kept trying to scratch the touch off, not even noticing the stinging pain in your shoulder from scratching it so much though you were wearing a hoodie.

You heard a deep muffled voice say something from the common room, and footsteps were coming closer, going faster and faster, practically running.

Seconds later, Tony was sitting in front of you, talking to you, trying to get you to breathe, reminding you of the time you should be taking to inhale and exhale. He kept talking to you for a few more minutes, telling you that you were going to be okay, that you’re safe here. He sat with you until you could breathe properly and form coherent sentences again.

“Kid, I’ve got you, alright? What happened?”

You were still having trouble making eye contact, but you could tell just by the tone of his voice that he was worried.

“Uh.. Wanda, she, um.. grabbed my shoulder. And um, I.. I panicked? Yeah.”

“Alright. It’s okay, I’ll ask her and anyone else not to grab you or touch you without warning, alright? Would that be good?”

“Yeah.. thank you, mister Stark. I’m sorry, I, uh, I.. I didn’t mean to.”

“I know. It’s okay. It happens to me too. It’s understandable that it happens to you, after what you told me. It’s okay, you’re safe here. You’ll never have to return there, soon.”

You nodded and closed your eyes, taking some more time to focus on your breathing, trying to match it to his as an example of normal, not-having-a-panic-attack breathing. Having him there, right beside you, was really comforting.

After a few minutes, everything was back to normal again, though you were more exhausted than before.

“You’re safe”, Tony said, with a soft expression on his face. “It’s alright.” He stayed quiet for a minute. “I’m guessing you’ll be wanting to go to your room?” He smiled softly.

You mumbled a soft “yeah”, and he walked with you until you reached your room. He left when you thanked him with a small smile and closed the door behind you.

*I definitely need a nap.*

You lied in bed for less than half an hour before falling asleep.

#avengers fic #avengers fanfic #avengers fanfiction #avengers fics #avengers x reader #avengers x reader fanfiction #avengers x reader fanfic #avengers x reader fic #avengers x abused!reader

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lothirielswanmarvel · 5 years ago

Link

MISSION REPORT: Initiate operation “group hug”.

“This is nice,” I mused, blowing on a coffee cup as I stared across the table at Bucky. Morning light filled the tiny diner. It looked so calm, so quaint...it made last night’s light show seem like a dream.

He shrugged. My eyes narrowed. Something about his left arm...it rubbed me the wrong way.

“Mrow, ” Kramer’s paw escaped my old gym bag and rattled my plate. I shushed him, and slipped a small piece of bacon into the opening.

“You had to bring him in?” Bucky asked.

“It's too cold in the car,” I told him, resting my chin on my elevated fingers.

A shadow fell over me.

“Is everything okay over here?” The waiter glanced between the two of us.

I nodded and smiled, “It's great, thanks.”

He beamed at me. “Enjoy your date.”

Date? My head tilted to the side as he walked off. I looked back to Bucky. That's probably what it looked like. Everyone accepted things as they appeared. I envied their simplicity.

“So who’s this friend of yours?” I stared down at the caramel-colored liquid of my coffee.

“We’ve...run in the same circles. In the past.” Bucky’s eyes kept darting around the restaurant. He never seemed to relax.

“Do you mind putting this on? They’re looking for your face, too,” Bucky flipped off his plum-colored baseball cap and offered it to me.

I tacked it on. His small smile returned.

“What?”

“You look...like a fine dane.” He frowned at the words.

I bit my lip to silence any laughter. “A fine dane?”

Bucky shifted in the booth. “Sorry...it's been awhile since I've used that line. On anyone.”

“It's a good line.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah. A little cheesy, but girls like that,” I replied.

Suddenly the sound of heels carried on the tile. I spotted the pair of boots responsible for the noise. I froze when I saw her face.

“I wish Steve had your enthusiasm for the dating world,” Natasha Romanoff stood before our table, tossing a wink at Bucky.

I was speechless at first. Her skin was fine porcelain, like marble, or the fine white thread of a spider web. Her crimson curls clashed like blood in the snow. Everything about her was striking.

She motioned for Bucky to scoot and sat down with us. She smirked at me.

“I'm June,” I choked out the words as I coped with my awe. “I...already know who you are.”

“Hi, June. She’s pretty, where’d you find her?”

“She’s my neighbor.”

“Huh.” Natasha leaned back against the old fashioned white-blue design of the cushions. “So you need a place to crash. Avengers Tower is open.”

My eyes popped out of their sockets. The offer was so casual, so genuine. Bullets were easier to get used to than Bucky’s high-class friends.

“I don't really have a good reputation with Starks, Natasha.”

“He doesn't know. And it wasn't your fault.”

Bucky shook his head. “Doesn't change what happened.”

Natasha’s fingers tap-danced across the slightly sticky surface of the table as she thought. “Maybe S.H.I.E.L.D. could help you out.”

“You’re joking, right?”

“No. Your name is on the Wall of Valor at every S.H.I.E.L.D. facility.” Natasha said. “But Fury’s still upset that you blew up his car…”

I shot Bucky a confused look.

“It was an accident,” He mumbled. “Sort of.”

Natasha’s widened eyes said otherwise. “Let’s see...we have tons of safe houses all over New York. You could stay in one of those until you get a grip on things.”

Bucky contemplated. I watched unmoving his facial expression when he was silent; he always had a serious look on his face. I was shocked at how little his face revealed, like he was encased in plaster for years.

Eventually his gaze wandered to me. “What do you think?”

I froze. “You're asking me?”

“It's your decision, too,” He said.

I thought about it. I wasn't really the expert; the only time I tried to hide from somebody was when I moved away from my extremely manipulative mother. But hiding from agents of an evil nazi organization…that seemed slightly more intense than mom—well, that woman could be the scourge of Germany—okay, I didn't have the time for this debate.

Hmm...New York was notorious for its busy streets and traffic from hell. It was a hub of activity. Easy to blend in. But Hydra could be around every corner…

“Is it safe?” I asked, feeling dumb.

Natasha answered, “Bullet-proof windows. Steel locks...I wouldn't choose it as a long-term plan, but it's a start.”

“Pet friendly?”

“I think Bucky will be comfortable,” Natasha smirked.

“Nat, come on.”

“What kind of pet is it? Is it a dog—? Who’s the little cutie?”

I glanced around the diner to make sure the waiter was occupied, then I unzipped my bag and Kramer’s wide eyes fell on Natasha.

The deadly assassin gasped. “Aww, it's a kitty! Can I hold him?”

I hoisted Kramer over the counter and into the Avenger’s awaiting arms. Natasha squished him into a hug. “What's Mr. Kitty’s name?”

“Kramer.”

“Like Seinfeld? Aww, he is just the cutest—you can even see the insanity in his eyes. Just like the character, that is adorable.”

Bucky shook his head silently.

Natasha juggled the cat as she pulled out a key. “Here—oh, what if I joined you guys and we could have a big road trip? I'm not ready to part with Mr. Kramer.”

Bucky turned in his seat and squinted at Natasha, innocently cuddling with the cat. “What’s your angle?”

Natasha’s eyes widened like a doll’s, childlike and naive. “Angle? Why, whatever are you referring to, Mr. Barnes?”

“Why do you want to travel with us to New York?”

“Because I like this cat, and I want to make sure that he and his super nice owner make it to their destination safely.”

“Uhuh.”

“I miss our old adventures—this could be our way of catching up. Did I ever tell you about Budapest?”

“Budapest? What's Budapest?” I piped up.

Both glanced at me. “Don't ask,” Bucky said.

Natasha petted Kramer dramatically with an amused smile, looking like a villain who had outsmarted the hero. “You said you needed help. So, let me help you.”

“Yeah, the last time you tried to “help” someone, Barton ended up stuck in the vents or some weird crap.”

“This has nothing to do with Barton—well, not just Barton.”

“Just Barton?”

The little bell at the door rang. Three people in hoodies and baseball caps walked across the room and stopped before our table.

Sam Wilson. Steve Rogers. Some random person with resting murder face.

My head tilted to the side. “Why are all of you wearing caps and hoodies?”

Resting-Murder-Face shrugged. “Incognito.”

Steve was busy staring at Bucky, the way I usually stared at the ice cream in the freezer. “Hey, Buck.”

Bucky groaned and laid his head on the sticky table. Sam Wilson noticed me and winked. “Hey, how you doin’? I'm—”

“Sam Wilson.” I answered for him, shaking the hand he offered to me. “Sorry—I heard about you on the news, what you did at D.C. You’re amazing.”

Sam beamed, his pearl-white teeth flashing. “I'm nobody special. Well, he's special—” Sam nudged his chin at Bucky, “—if you know what I mean.”

Sam and I laughed. Bucky scowled at both of us. I looked over at the guy with the angry expression. “Who’s this?”

Resting-Murder-Face turned his glare upon me. “You're kidding.”

“Why would I be kidding?”

“Clint? Clint Barton? Hawkeye?” He threw unfamiliar names at me. I just stared blankly.

Clint’s expression became slightly more murderous. “Arrow-guy? Best archer ever? Am I ringing any bells?”

“No, sorry. I've never heard of you.”

“Well, I’ll have you know, missy, that I’m one of the founding members of the Avengers.”

“Okay…”

“Remember that New York invasion? The aliens? I killed twelve of ‘em. You're welcome.”

“Oh...thanks.”

“And you’re welcome.”

“...You said that.”

“Clint.” Steve silenced him with a look. I couldn't get over Steve’s blond hair. It was just so...perfect-looking. Like it was styled with buckets of gel, yet it looked completely natural.

Bucky sighed. “You shouldn't be here. None of you.”

I ignored how much it stung when he said that. I leaned back in my seat, crossing my arms.

“June, I am truly sorry for ruining your life. I can never make up for that,” He said. I was shaking my head throughout the entire speech.

“What life? I lived alone, with my crazy cat, and cut people open for a living.” I remarked.

“Excuse me for asking, but what’s your profession again?” Steve asked politely.

“Cardiologist,” Natasha answered for me.

I blinked, trying to remember when I told her. “I don't think I told you that.”

“No, you didn't. Also, you were born on Long Island. Adopted, right?”

My arms tightened around my chest. “We just met, like, five minutes ago.”

“And now she knows your life story. That's Nat,” Clint concluded.

“If your true objective is to keep June safe, it would be easier with us on board,” Steve replied, ducking his head as the waiter passed by. Natasha hid the cat inside her leather jacket whenever someone looked over.

Bucky looked over at me. This time, there was a change in his face. His eyes tightened. He bit down on his lip.

“Fine. We’re going to New York. All of us.”

“Yay! Can we stop by Pet Supermarket and get this little cutie a tie? Or one of those mini-sweaters!”

#some bucky love for valentines day #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel #avengers #catws #natasha romanov #sam wilson #steve rogers #mcu #mcu fic #bucky love #black widow #valentines day #captain america #falcon #clint barton #hawkeye #winter soldier

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takadasaiko · 5 years ago

Text

Second Chances Chapter Twenty-One

FFN II AO3

Summary: Tony fights for his life as his team rushes to save him.

Chapter Twenty-One

Everything hurt. It was the one thing that he thought he knew, but even that started to recede into the background like waking from a dream. And then it was gone, mostly, with only the echoes of stiffness that could be explained away by the angle he was slouched back in his chair…. asleep? No. That didn't seem right.

"Didn't realize I'd actually bored you to sleep."

Tony dug the heels of his hands into his eyes to try to clear them, finally blinking hard. When he didn't respond right away he saw Howard pop up on the other side of the car like a gopher and he shook his head. "I was…."

"Out like a light," Howard chuckled at him as he stood, reaching for a rag to wipe his hands with. "Midway through the story I look over and you were gone."

Everything felt foggy and he kept catching what looked like tiny bursts of light from the corner of his eye, but when he looked over nothing was out of place. "What story?" he found himself asking.

"'Bout Cap and the whole fondue incident."

Tony sat up a little straighter. "He hates it. Never knew why."

"It's a funny story. You'd have heard it if you hadn't dozed off."

He stood, feeling a little unsteady as he did, and he looked towards another sharp flash of light.

"Tony?"

Tony jerked back around, Howard's tone startling him. Like he'd called him several times. "Huh?"

"Kinda thought this was a joint project."

"Right."

He couldn't shake the strange feeling that nagged at him, but he did his best to push it aside as he joined Howard next to the classic car that had somehow become their project. Rebuilding a similar one with the man that had raised him had been one of Tony's few good memories of his childhood with him. Now, with this Howard, they could both enjoy it as they settled into casual conversation about anything and everything. They talked about Morgan, about Tony and Pepper's wedding. About the Avengers and some of the adventures they'd had together. Tony got a laugh at the look he got when he told the man that would be his father that he'd dismantled a rogue bot with a fondue stick once.

"What about FRIDAY?" he asked and Tony saw another flicker. Something felt wrong.

"What about her?"

"Anything. Everything. C'mon. It's not like I'm gonna be able to replicate it when you send me back. Even I'm not that good." He paused, that playful smirk that was all the Howard Tony was coming to know and nothing of the father he had tugging into place. "Okay, I am that good, but I won't have the tools at my disposal to make it happen."

"It's just one of those things." He looked over. That wasn't a flash of light. That was a full disruption. Like a glitch in an augmented reality display.

"Then give me something that won't break time and space, huh? Where's she located?"

Something was wrong and Howard was pushing. He always pushed, but there was something about this…. "Why would you need to know that?"

"Curiosity. My kid is the greatest inventor this generation knows. I just wanna see it with my own eyes. You know, before you send me home."

Tony closed his eyes, forcing himself to focus through what felt like a fog crashing in on him. "I knew I was missing something."

"Say again?"

When he re-opened them, everything around them was glitching, and didn't take more than half a second for Howard to join the rest of it. "You're not here. I'm not even here." He looked around, a mirthless chuckle leaving him and he shouted at nothing in particular. "Game's up, Obie. It's clever, I'll give it to you. Guess that means you didn't put it together." He thought he heard a frustrated snarl somewhere in the distance. Howard was frozen in place and Tony's workshop flickered in and out of sync around him. "Just can't come up with it on your own, can you? Break into my house and disable my ARC reactor with my own localized EMP device and what? You had to go through SHIELD for that, so that means you haven't gotten through Stark Industries' securities to steal anything directly from there. You track down that nutcase Beck or something? Bet you two got along. Was there enough room between the two of you -"

And then, just like that, it all snapped out of existence and Tony found himself on his back, laid out on a table with his wrists and ankles cuffed to it. Obadiah Stane stood just in his line of sight, his face beet red as he fumed. Tony shot him a dangerous grin. "Enough room between the two of you for your bitching and moaning that life just isn't fair that you can't figure out a way to beat me?"

He hadn't thought Stane could look any angrier, but somehow he managed. He probably should stop antagonizing him or the man was going to lose the last shred of his self control and throttle him. "You always think you're the smartest man in the room, don't you, Tony?"

"Because I am. Nearly every damn time."

Stane jerked forward and Tony thought he was about to get punched. Instead the older man ripped a pair of glasses from his face - clunky, but not in a fashionable way. Tony could see the wires running through. Definitely Beck's original design, even if Stane had had someone alter it - and threw them at a lanky, bespectacled young man that barely caught them. "Fix it!" Stane roared and stormed out to leave Tony alone with the startled, trembling man.

______________

They had stopped off in Queens to pick up Peter Parker before making their way into Manhattan. The teen was quieter than Peggy had ever heard him before as he listened to Steve explain what little they knew. Obadiah Stane had used some of the stolen tech to break into Tony's home. Pepper had confirmed that she, Howard, and Morgan were alright, but he'd taken Tony. They were already pooling resources to track him. They would find him, Steve promised, and Peter only nodded, his expression determined in a way Peggy had seen so many times in boys not much older than him during the war. She wouldn't bet against the teen in that moment, and it sounded like they needed every ounce of strength they could muster for this.

The majority of the team had already gathered by the time they got there. Colonel Rhodes, Sergeant Barnes, and Sam Wilson stood looking at a collection of images displayed on a projection, Pepper balancing a very upset looking Morgan in her arms as she spoke quietly with them. Barton looked up from a call he was on, nodding to the group looking at the satellite footage. "Hey Cap, we've got eyes."

Steve moved immediately while Morgan Stark wiggled free of her mother's arms and took off like a shot towards Peter. He caught her mid-leap and the little girl hung onto him like her life depended on it. "The mean man took Daddy!"

"I know," he said softly as he held onto her protectively. "We're gonna get him back."

She sniffed. "Promise?"

"Yeah."

"They hurt Howard."

That caught Peggy's attention, and for the first time she realized her friend wasn't with the others. Her gaze swept the room and fear started to settle into her chest just as he strode in from a different room with a cup of coffee in either hand. He was sporting a black eye and a brace on his wrist, but looked mostly whole as he delivered the second cup to Pepper.

"Hey, Peg," he greeted as she made her way over, but his voice didn't hold any of his usual gusto.

Her looked him over, searching for any signs that there were more injuries than the eye could see. "What happened?"

Howard shifted uncomfortably under her scrutiny and took a long drink from his mug. "Pepper told you."

"Not this -" She motioned to his injured wrist and then to his eye - "or this."

"Turns out I don't just know Iron Monger. I've known him most've my life." He didn't seem to want to meet her eyes and he ran a hand back along his hair to smooth it back as much as he could. Finally he stepped closer, his voice hushed. "I figured it out before he came in. Tony was…"

"Less than thrilled?" she prompted with a raised eyebrow.

"Livid, But Obie - Stane - seemed to think, seemed to know all he had to do was threaten any of us. I just happened to be the one there, but he… he didn't even put up a fight, Peg. Just gave up the one weapon he had on him and walked out the door."

He blamed himself. There was no denying how attached Howard had become to the man that would be his son someday, and Tony appeared to have finally let some of his own guard down somewhere along the way. Stane must have seen it and used it against them. "Howard, this isn't —"

"I'm going in with you."

She blinked hard, startled. "I'm sorry?"

"To get Tony. I'm going with you. I know I'm not like the rest of you, but I'm handy with a firearm. It's not like I've never been close to a firefight either."

"I seem to remember you diving for cover when we tested Steve's shield the first time," she said softly. The image might have been amusing any other time, but at that very moment it just served as one of many reminders that he was a civilian, not a soldier.

"Testing, is that what you called it? 'Cause I thought you were trying to make a point when you caught him with that pretty blonde." His smile was strained and faltered almost immediately. "Peg, how many flights did I take over occupied territory to get Cap's team where they needed to go? Nobody but me would."

"You were in the air and away from the fray, or should we talk about Poland and the quite literal scars you have to remember that trip by?"

"I can do this."

Peggy swallowed the argument that threaten to tumble uselessly from her lips. Howard Stark was one of the most stubborn people she'd ever known. She had to be careful. "But is it where you'd do him the most good?" She saw his shoulders sag just a little. "I've seen you at work, Howard. Yes, you're a top notch pilot. You know I know that, but that's not what we need here. You're also a talented tactician. Get us through where they're holding him. Help us get to him. That's how you save him."

That stubborn expression cracked to show just a little of the fear beneath. "I can't lose him, Peg. I gotta…" He swallowed hard. "I gotta make it right."

Peggy reached what she hoped would be a comforting hand out to him. "We will. I just need you to trust me."

"Peggy?" She looked over to Steve who looked ready to knock heads. "We've got a location. You ready?"

She looked back to Howard, desperately needing his confirmation before leaving him there. Pepper had a five-year-old reason that wasn't suiting up along with them and running headlong into danger, but Howard was just stubborn enough that if he didn't give her his word he might follow them no matter what. It took a long moment, but he nodded, the movement stiff, and she didn't want to think about what would happen if she couldn't make good on the promise.

"Thank you."

"Happy has the jet ready for you," Pepper called out as she came to stand with Howard, Morgan reaching out for her hand. "You still current, Clint?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Good. Bring him home."

______________

No one else had come back into the room since Obadiah had left and Tony was carefully working to undo at least one of the cuffs around his wrists. The straps were fastened into place, but if he could get just the right angle on it he could start to work it free. Get one free, he could get the other free. Once his hands were liberated then came the feet and then… well, at least he'd have a chance.

A sharp cry from the far end of the room reminded him that he was not, in fact, alone. Stane's little pet… whatever he was was there. Tony still didn't know exactly what his expertise was in, but if he were to wager a guess he was the kid that Obadiah had said had been digging into his tech. Apparently not well, if the glitchy would-be BARF simulation was anything to go by. Maybe he could be useful somehow. "So," Tony drawled, shift against his restraints, "you guys recruit Beck for that?"

"Oh no. He didn't want anything to do with us. He had this whole thing planned out… Doesn't matter now. Mr Stane asked me to upgrade the tech a while back and I've been working on it. I thought I had all the bugs worked out but….. Well, you saw." He swiveled around on his chair, the wheels on the bottom carrying him across so that he was inches away from Tony now. Well that hadn't been what he was going for. "Mr Beck's design dialed into the hippocampus and manipulated memories. He was working on something that was going to let him project out what he wanted people to see, but Mr Stane thought it would be more useful to, uh… use what's inside the person's mind already."

"Let them be their own worst enemy."

"Yes! Yes exactly!"

"He's always been a manipulative bastard."

"Oh, he's a genius."

Tony felt the cuff slip ever so slightly. "He's something alright. What's your name?"

"My name? Oh. Oh it's Marty. I, uh -" he looked back to the door and then leaned down. Tony's fingers instantly stilled. "Don't tell him I told you, but I'm a big fan of yours. I wanted to work for Stark Industries after school, but you know the snap and everything. So here I am. Mr Stane's great though."

"If you say so. How close are you? Getting your design to work?"

That did the trick. Marty scooted back over to his work station as he spoke. "Really close. I think the key is finding a way to keep the power surges under control. Your ARC reactor technology should do the trick, though. I think. I took a scan of the one in your chest while you were out. Hope you don't mind."

"Kinda do." And then it slipped. Tony jerked hard against it and his hand broke free. He moved instantly to the other cuff and started tugging it loose.

"Well, I mean, it's such an amazing piece of tech and you don't have it out there on the open web. You should. You really should."

Tony sat up, ripping the restraints from his bare ankles. He had the last one undone by the time Marty looked around, his expression inquisitive. "Oh! You can't… you shouldn't be up!"

"Hey, I need you to keep quiet, you hear me?"

"I can't. I really shouldn't. Mr Stane -"

"Do you want him to know you let me go?" Tony asked, sliding off the table with his hands out in what he hoped was a calming motion. His gaze flickered around. There wasn't much he could use against him, not that Marty looked like he'd put up much of a fight.

"I can't -"

There was a crash outside and an alarm started blaring, drawing Marty's attention. Tony took a step forward and swung, fist balled up and it connected hard with the babbling tech-thief's face to lay him out. Tony winced, flexing his right hand. "Sorry, kid. I have people I need to get home to."

He raced towards the door and threw it open. No guards, no immediate threats. Well, at least there was that. He picked a direction and ran.

______________

She could feel Howard's eyes on her as she checked with the SI security one more time. Stane's people were looking for something and had been for a while. They weren't getting very far hammering at the security, which was likely why they'd gone after their stolen tech through other routes. Pepper would have thought that SHIELD wouldn't have been an easier target, but Stark Industries weren't the only ones they used for security. Just the only ones that earned their paycheck.

"I've been on this side of plenty of operations and never felt more like I'm in the wrong place."

"You're exactly where you need to be," she assured him as she reached over to look at her buzzing phone.

"Don't tell me you're good playing back up. I've seen you in action."

She looked over to the man that she still wasn't entirely sure if she should consider her father-in-law and pulled in a breath. "I want to be there too. I get that, but I'm here in part because Morgan needs me, but also because I'm the one with the security protocols to access what we need while Stark Industries is in lockdown."

Her phone buzzed again. "Is that them asking for your go-ahead?"

"That's legal," she answered, blue eyes skimming the message, and that seemed to instantly bore him. Like father, like son. Tony hated discussing legal matters. He wouldn't be particularly happy about this one either, but she had a promise to make good on. She could handle his grousing as long as he came home to her.

Their communications buzzed and Pepper hit the accept on the call. "How's it looking, Steve?"

"Fortified."

"Then we've got the right place," Howard answered as he settled himself into place and pulled up the holomap they'd hobbled together without any hesitation on how to access it.

"Time to go in and say hello," Clint chirped and Pepper pushes her phone aside. Dealing with the Fury situation could wait.

______________

It didn't take long for Obadiah's people to start gaining on him, but even less time for Tony's body to deliver a painful reminder what his former mentor had put him through since stealing him away from his home that morning. His chest ached straight through to his back and he was having trouble pulling in enough air. He needed to get somewhere safe and fast.

The building had likely been some sort of offices at one point or another. A few long hallways with doors at every turn might have given him some place to duck away and keep his head down until the source of the ruckus - because somebody had set off those alarms, and it hadn't been him - found him if it hadn't been for the cameras at every angle. Obadiah was going to know exactly where he was, but with any luck that meant his team might be able to get into those same security feeds and find him too. He just had to make sure he could protect himself until then. He might not have access to a suit, but that didn't make him an easy target.

Tony made his way through several rooms before finding the closet he needed. His lips tilted into a lopsided grin at the compilation of cleaning supplies, many with the warnings FLAMMABLE in bold. He stepped inside, working to find what he needed from the metal storage cabinets against the wall. Chemicals, rag, a battery, and a paperclip. Okay. That could work.

His hands shook as he started mixing chemicals and he did his best to steady them when the voices outside the door drew closer. It was fine. This was fine. He needed them close, but he also needed the mix to be just about right, and spilling it all over the metal table in the middle of the room wasn't going to help.

The voices were closing in and Tony stuffed the cloth into the mixed chemical bottle, setting it aside just long enough to flip the table to give himself some cover. He grabbed for the battery and unwound the end of his paperclip, working enough of the plastic away from the edge to start heating it up. "C'mon, c'mon," he urged as he held the makeshift lighter to the fabric. That singed it and then caught, slowly building momentum.

Just in time. The door open and Tony tossed the bottle at the newcomers. He spotted Obadiah trying to scurry out of the doorway before he ducked behind his cover, the explosion rocking the hallway and sending hot, fiery chunks of plastic back into his closet. He sat there for a long moment in the wake of it before finally peeking up and over the turned table. No one moved outside and he stood cautiously.

Stane had only had two men with him. One was on his side, fingers wrapped around his leg where pieces of plastic had done some painful damage. The other was out cold and slumped against the wall. Obadiah coughed, drawing Tony's attention, and it looked like he'd taken the brunt of the blast.

"How's it feel?" the older man asked, his voice strained and the chuckle he managed wounded more like another cough.

"What?"

"Payback. I stood over you… let you die. Now it's your turn."

Tony set his jaw. "I'm not you, Obie. I don't enjoy making people suffer."

"But you're willing. You always have been. Saw what you did to get out of that cave years ago. What you did to me."

"You mean after you hijacked my company, attacked me, and tried to kill Pepper? You've got a real skewed outlook if you think that makes me anything like you." Obadiah snorted and a shout down the way drew Tony's attention for just a moment. He could have sworn he heard the sound of Cap's shield bouncing off of something down the way and it brought the smallest smiles to his face as he turned back. "You lost."

"Least I'm not alone."

Tony saw the small EMP in his hand just as Stane pressed down. The reactor flickered and went out, sending him stumbling and crashing to his knees as his heart beat erratically. He reached out clumsily for it, the tiny device having fallen from Obadiah's now-limp hand, and his finger grazed the mechanism to turn it off. The red lights faded away, but there was no jolt of the reactor turning back on and no blue light shining through his t-shirt. "Shit," he managed, voice barely squeaking out past his vocal chords.

"Mr Stark!"

The kid. He heard the kid. He'd helped him on the redesign. If he could talk him through it, Peter could reconnect whatever wiring had been knocked loose and -

"Mr Stark! Tony!"

Peter was shaking him now, and Tony hadn't realized that his eyes had slipped closed. He forced them open to find the teen with every inch of fear shining through the protective lenses of his mask. He reached up, the movement awkward and heavy, and his fingers touched the dead reactor.

"Okay. Okay… Not good. How do we turn it back on? It's uh… I don't know. Mr Stark, I don't know. How do I fix it?"

His body gave a painful shudder and he couldn't find the words. It was like he was slowly sinking, water closing in around him and muffling Peter's terrified cries. Funny, the kid only seemed to call him by his first name when he was slipping away.

______________

TBC

Notes: Holy crap this chapter felt like it took forever. I can't tell you how many times I'd write a scene, scrap it, start over, scrap it, shuffle it, and it just continued on. A couple of nights ago I found the idea that made it all fit together though, so it worked out!

#Endgame fix it fic #Tony Stark #Pepper Potts #Obadiah Stane #Peggy Carter #Howard Stark #Peter Parker

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opheliawillowbrook · 6 years ago

Text

Let the Record Show

A/N: So as stated, this fic has been written to provide closure to the infamous arc brought about in Nightwing #93 in which (if you are unaware-so spoilers!) Nightwing is raped by Tarantula (Catalina) after the death of Blockbuster because, (if you think like Devin Grayson) why the fuck not, right? Thankfully for those of you reading this, I don't. But in any case, my friend (Embrlee Frith) and I have discussed this arc in-depth and thought it (aside from most untactful) very poorly handled. Which is a shame since there really were some good bones to discuss, not just about rape, but also male rape victims in our society and the aftermath that all victims of sexual assault and rape survivors go through. However, as most of you are probably aware, DC and Devin Grayson sorta dropped that ball and refused to pic it back up. Though, to be fair, Ms. Grayson, being, well-Ms. Grayson, did try and clarify the scene by referring to it as "non-consensual sex" which is probably the most accurate example of an oxymoron one can bring to fruition, but that's a subject for another time. But given the sort of "mishandling" of the canon, I was commissioned by our lovely Ms. Frith to cover this subject matter and try and bring some closure to this event for both the reader and the character.

I'd also like to apologize to anyone offended by my words of Ms. Grayson. I'm clearly not a fan of her work (as I'm sure I've made it very clear) I just think as a writer this subject matter deserved far more respect than it got and this is my attempt at providing that.

I Also recently re-edited this story and hope the changes help make it feel finished. Please let me know what you think :) I also found a great song to go along with this fic. It's called "They're Not Horses, They're Dead Unicorns" by Bayside. So if you like a little music with you reading, you might enjoy it!

So if you're still reading this, I'd like to thank you. Let me know what you think and let's see if we can put this ghost to rest now, shall we?

As Always, With Love

-Ophelia

“She was a termite, Eating away at my roots. I was just a lost soul, who needed a home, I was filling, a void, with you.” --Bayside

He sat in a dark corner of the crowded bar at a small table by the foggy window. This was far from how he'd normally spend an evening, but tonight was far from a normal night. It had begun to rain over Gotham, the air thick with its dewy metallic scent. It almost smelled like blood—like her . He looked down at his half empty beer bottle, a little distressed that he was three drinks in, and the edge still wasn't off.

Drinking was always something he'd avoided, something he looked at as unnecessary and otiose, but in the wake of the past year, he'd built something of a tolerance to it. It was all he could do to cope at times. He didn't consider himself an alcoholic; he mostly only had a drink or two, but he still wasn't proud of the fact it was something he required now, that it was the only thing that came close to washing away that bitter taste.

It had been a year since he'd lost everything he'd worked so hard for. A year since he'd lost friends, his city, and the thousands of innocent lives within it. But worst of all, he'd lost a significant piece of himself, and he blamed himself for all of it. All because of one night, one choice and her.

The thought of her was nearly enough to make him sick as he downed a sip of beer to try and flush her foul taste from his mouth. However, the cheap beer and whisky was not enough to drown out the bitterness—that rotten taste he could just never get off his tongue. It was like he'd unknowingly bitten into a spoiled piece of fruit, only to find its sweetness was replaced with decay and maggots. He could still feel the invasive parasites crawl beneath his skin every now and then. At just the right moment, with just the right touch, or the right set of words. The feeling always left him feeling dirty, and no matter how hard he scrubbed or scratched, her touch would never wash off him. He'd wear her mark for the rest of his life.

What was worse was that he'd never told anyone about what had happened to him; he himself had a hard time believing its validity. In his mind, he tried to tell himself that what he thought happened was nothing of the sort. That the trauma of watching a man die was the reason for his physical and mental discord. Or at least that's what she'd told him.

Still, it never mattered how many times he tried to talk himself down, or how many times he tried to tell himself that what happened, hadn't happened at all. He could still never get that bloody taste out his mouth. He could even taste it on the air.

"I would have never pegged you as the drinking alone type," he heard a familiar voice say.

He looked up to find a single blue eye staring down at him, her lily-white hair draped around her black leather jacket.

"Rose," he said in a genuine shock, "what are you doing here? Why aren't you with the Titans ?"

"Yeah, about that," she said, taking a seat next to him, "that wasn't exactly hooking up. So I'm currently between jobs right now."

"Okay," Dick replied perplexed, "then what are you doing here?" he asked, entertaining some guilt that she'd gone out on her own. He was after all her mentor.

She shrugged somberly. "Well, I just found out that the closest thing I had to a best friend died…"

"Eddie…" he said ruefully, recalling that Tim recounted the incident, but he hadn't mentioned that Rose left the team. "I'm sorry."

She gave him a weak smile and stole a sip of his beer. "Don't be. Eddie died a hero, and in my book, he couldn't have gone out like more of a badass." She paused a moment, clearly remembering her friend. If anything, she was sad for herself, but refused to admit it. A lot like him.

"But with that being said," she added, "I'm here to drink my feelings and have a meaningless hook-up… Care to help a girl out, Grayson?"

She smiled at him coyly. He'd like to have thought she was joking, but he knew she wasn't. If Rose Wilson was anything, she was brutally honest, and he respected that.

"I can help you with the first half of your missions of self-destruction, but you're on your own with the latter."

"Eh, it was worth a shot," she shrugged, "but it's your loss."

"Somehow I'll live."

Sadly enough, part of him wanted to take her up on her offer. The idea of losing himself in another for a few hours was a tempting way to momentarily ease him of his current torment. However, he knew once the sheets were dirtied and the sweat was dried, he'd be right back where he began. Rose was also a little too young for him, and he didn't feel like adding statutory to his already stained morality. Though it seemed to be the least of her worries. But if nothing else, she'd make good company for his misery.

He ordered her a drink, mostly because he knew that if he didn't, she'd find someone else who would. And he'd have much rather been the man feeding her alcohol than one of the many seedy low-lives who'd jump at the chance to hinder the autonomy of a pretty 17-year-old girl. Not that Dick worried about Rose's ability to take care of herself. He knew she was more than capable, but if breaking one rule prevented her from making a horrible mistake, then he didn't see the harm in it.

The two sipped their beers and talked about their losses and gains. Though somehow they felt their losses were what made them who they were.

Dick took notice at how much Rose had matured, she'd oddly grown up a lot in the past year. She was still very much the same: Hot-headed and unpredictable, but she'd begun to understand how to use those things to her advantage. Dick couldn't help but feel a sense of pride. At least he'd done something right.

They both finished their drinks, and when Dick glanced up to the bar to get a second round, he froze.

It's never gonna stop...

Rose noticed his sudden shift, his face paused, his eyes staring blankly ahead.

"You okay?"

He snapped out of it and looked at her. "I have to go."

He took out his wallet and threw a couple bills down on the table, hurrying himself to leave. But it was too late, she saw him.

She stood at the bar, waiting for the bartender to fix her drink. She looked like she were dressed for a funeral, as though she were burying her third husband. Her black dress was low, showing off the prominent curves of her breasts, her lips painted red, like they were stained with his blood. But it didn't matter how pretty she looked. For beneath that low black dress and behind that lipstick smile she flashed at him, he could see just how ugly she truly was.

Suddenly it was like the world stopped turning and the ground fell from beneath his feet. He was back in that moment again, like the scar had been ripped open with a dull knife, the blade delving deep into his dignity.

It's never gonna stop...

"Dick?" He could hear Rose's voice, distant, like she were 100 miles away. "Are you okay?"

"I don't know..."

He took off, practically running out the door, pushing past the crowd of people until he was out in the pouring rain. It was as though he couldn't breathe, like his lungs had filled with a toxic smoke, smothering him in with past he just couldn't shake. He could feel the rain hitting his face, a sensation he'd once found clean and refreshing, only now it felt like an affliction, like a cancer burning into his skin. Convicting him with the sins he'd committed, and the ones committed against him.

Rose had immediately run after him, knowing something was deeply wrong.

"Dick! Dick, wait!" Rose called, her platinum hair looking grey beneath the foggy rain. "Are you okay—what happened?"

He didn't stop, he just kept moving, not sure what to say. "I just need to go home, Rose."

It was a terrible excuse, but it was the best he could come up with. Plus, what could he really say? He couldn't even admit the truth to himself, never mind a teenage girl who held him in such high standing.

"It's okay, you can tell me," she urged, but he still wouldn't stop. "It was that girl, wasn't it?"

He stopped. The rain beating down on him like it had in that very night a your ago.

"She did something to you, didn't she?"

He turned, at a loss, not even sure what to say, but before he could speak, he saw her again.

She'd stepped out of the bar, just under the overhang, looking out at him through falling sky. He stared at her for a minute, part of him wanting to show her how badly he hurt. How deeply that scar through his heart ran. But another part of him was still too afraid to even look her in the eye. For a moment he thought she'd try and approach him, but she didn't, and at first, he couldn't understand why. Then it hit him. And no, it had nothing to do with melting Wicked Witch of the West style.

Rose...

She had now locked her eyes on the woman beneath the overhang, keeping herself from the damp air.

Dick wasn't sure what would come next. Part of him wondered if Rose would, well, pull a Rose and throw a right hook across Catalina's face. Or if Catalina would say something in an attempt to dismiss the younger girl. Something he knew wouldn't go over well.

However, Rose surprised him. She turned her scowling face away from the woman in black and walked toward Dick.

"Come on," she said over the percussion of rain. "This place will let anyone in, we're better off at your place."

The whole speech was a jab at Catalina. She didn't need her mentor to tell her anything, she already knew. Like she could smell that primal fear radiating off him, or possibly even something about the way that woman looked at him. Her smile gilded with something predatory, hungry for self-satisfaction and the taste of blood on her tongue.

Rose took him by the arm and led him away, the rain still pouring down around them. It's humid smell rising from the flooded pavement beneath his feet. Dick could still feel her eyes on him, a feeling of shame ricocheting down his spine as he was whisked away by his own protégé, the old one merely watching as she did so. He'd faced murderous mad men, violent Metahumans, and bloodthirsty demons, but somehow, a simple human woman was the greatest monster he'd ever faced. A woman he could have easily overpowered, yet somehow couldn't. The thought left a deep wound in his masculinity, like he failed as a man, like maybe he'd let it happen. These poisonous thoughts were something he'd become accustomed to ever since Catalina had taken matters into her own hands.

By the time they made it back to Dick's apartment, they were both soaked to the bone. He could feel the filthy rain collecting along his jaw and dripping heavily from his chin as he unlocked the door. Rose noticed his hands were shaking and he cursed at himself as he struggled to steady them. He finally got the key into the lock and turned it, looking around before entering the safety of his home. They entered the reasonably sized studio apartment, and Dick flicked on the light. He closed the door behind them, locking the knob, deadbolt, and key chain. Rose, of course, thought it was a bit overkill, but given his reaction to the woman at the bar, she'd have done the same thing.

"She's really got you on edge," Rose said, pulling off her soggy coat. "Who is she?"

"No one."

"Well, then she's a whole lot of no one ." Rose grimaced. "I'm sensing "They're Not Horses, They're dead Unicorns," vibe?"

"Something like that…" he sighed, wiping the rain from his brow, "only in the darkest context possible."

"What do you think she wants?"

He looked up at her. He hadn't really thought of that. It had been a year since he'd seen her last, since he just walked away and never looked back. She got what she wanted, why would she come back now?

"Fuck," he huffed blankly and sat down. His mind digging up an old thought he'd once had, one he prayed wouldn't come to fruition.

Rose could see the lost look in his eyes and the disparity quaking in the space where his heart used to be. This was nothing new to her. Whatever he lost, he'd lost it before they'd met. Only now she was beginning to understand what that was. She could now see just where that jaded and cynical nature came from, exactly what cracks left him shattered. Unlike many, she was actually about to see exactly what slipped through those cracks, exactly what had been taken away from him.

"I take it whatever she did to you, you're not over it?"

He looked at her with an ill expression and ran his hand through the fringe of his damp hair. "I don't know if I'll ever be over it," he said ruefully. That was the closest he'd ever come to admitting it, to saying it aloud.

Rose looked down, that was all she needed to hear. He didn't need to say more.

"I'm sorry that happened to you."

He glanced up at her and smiled at a loss, but also for the fact that she didn't laugh at him, that she didn't seem to judge him for it. "I just don't know what I'm supposed to do," he admitted. "Some days I can live it, then come days like this, where I can barely get my shit together."

She could understand that feeling, knowing how it felt to want to shed the scars that bind you, only you can't help but be who they've made you.

"You can talk about it if you want."

"Thanks," he said, and smiled falsely, "but talking about it is something I'm still not quite able to do." He took a deep breath and looked down at his hands, like it were they that had betrayed him. "I just don't understand it completely. And honestly, I just wanna forget it ever happened."

"But your body won't let you."

He nodded painfully, almost feeling like he had to vomit. He had to change the subject. "Sorry I ruined your night."

Rose smiled and shrugged nonchalantly. "No big deal, you probably saved me from making a poor life choice."

"That's probably true," he conceded with a nod.

"Yeah, seriously. Once my brain tastes alcohol it's like it's go time! Let's make some fucking mistakes! And see how quickly you can ruin the life you work so hard for..." she broke into a slight giggle. Rose was often amused with her on sense of humor.

Dick shook his head, well aware that Rose Wilson and alcohol were not meant to be in good company with each other. That girl could do a whole lot of damage and end up with one hell of a hangover. But he laughed anyway.

"But hey, now I can technically say I went home with Nightwing. I got braggin' rights now."

He shook his head at her shit-eating grin, realizing she'd probably use that to piss off daddy . It would also do little for either of their dwindling reputations, but he had bigger problems to worry about.

"I know you don't wanna talk about it, but I get the feeling you think she found you," Rose said. "Is she capable of that?"

Unfortunately enough, she was. She was an ex-FBI agent, after all. She probably knew exactly where he was this entire time and he never even thought to look behind him. But truth be told, he didn't want to know. It was easier if he didn't go looking for her in every shadow that haunted every corner.

"Yeah."

"Do you think she's been following you?"

He didn't want to think of that either, but he wouldn't put it past her. "Yeah, and it wouldn't be the first time."

"Jesus." Rose scowled. "When was the last time you saw her?"

"A year ago."

"So what's she doing, slinking up from Hell for some fresh air, thinking she'd just drop by, say hello?"

Dick grimaced. "I'm honestly really afraid to find out…" The look on his face hardened, consequence tying his tongue.

"Oh…" She paused a minute, thinking about how devastating that would be. To have something so heavy thrust upon you; forever tied to the person who'd already taken so much. "Well, if it makes you feel any better, and I really hate to say this, but there's no way she'd look like that if she'd dropped a fucking kid like three months ago."

Dick looked up at her. Only Rose would say something like that.

"I mean her tits would be like on the floor," she added crassly. "She could take a fucking eye out with those puppies, and I should know."

He glared at her, not sure whether to scowl or laugh. On one hand, her banter was oddly amusing, and on the other, he had a really hard time accepting humor in that moment. But maybe that was his problem.

"Rose, I know you're just trying to help, but if you could stop talking about how hot Catalina is, that would be great."

"Hey, I never said that walking gash was hot, I just said her fucking boobs could have their own gravitational pull," she corrected. "Life's not fucking fair, man," she added referring to her own humble cup size.

"Yeah, it's not," Dick accorded coldly, and he couldn't have agreed more.

His life had literally become one horrible montage of one bad thing after the next, and it all started the second she showed up. In the beginning, he actually felt guilty for feeling that way, like it was somehow unfair of him to blame her for things that came of his own volition. But with time, it simply just became part of his coping mechanism. Catalina equaled death, devastation and rape, and he just couldn't see past that. He liked to think if he'd just never met her, or if he'd just thrown her ass in jail when he had the chance, that everything would be different. Maybe nobody would have died, and that Blüdhaven would still be standing today.

What was worse, and the thing that ate at him the most, was that he'd willingly invited her into his life. He'd delivered himself like some naive lamb to slaughter because he'd actually once felt sorry for her. That's what it had always come down to. She had a shitty life, it wasn't her fault. If he had just been a better man, or a better mentor , she wouldn't have turned out like that. It didn't seem to matter that she was a grown woman and should have known better, he still made excuses for her. But now, he couldn't excuse that she was stained in his blood and the blood of others, and he couldn't do shit about it. Catalina was literally like a flesh-eating bacteria to him. A termite eating away at his body and soul.

"You've never actually confronted her, have you?" Rose asked, once again pulling him into the now.

He sighed and shook his head. "Not really—no. There was so much going on after it happened and I was still kinda in shock. She told me I wasn't thinking straight and that the trauma I'd experienced made me look at it that way. I believed her because I wanted to, but as the shock wore off and I began to see how far she'd burrowed into my life… I knew I was right."

He seethed a moment, that foul metallic taste overcoming his mouth.

"She was literally taking over my life, acting like she'd done nothing wrong—acting like she belonged with me. I couldn't take it, so I left."

"That's when you started mentoring me…" Rose said, having a rough idea of the timeline.

Dick looked up, it really was ironic. He'd been so badly burned by one protégé, and the other was the only thing keeping him from crawling out of skin.

"Yeah, you turned out fine, though."

"Yeah, because of you," Rose urged. She owed him everything. Without Dick Grayson, who knew where she'd be. "Without you, I could never be a hero."

He looked at her fondly, but he knew she didn't feel like one. He didn't feel like one either.

"Y'know," Rose began, "sometimes you gotta take your pound of flesh and just walk away."

"I'm really not one for revenge, Rose."

"I saw the way you looked at her, Dick," she said, sitting next to him, "like if you could kill her and get away with it, you would."

He didn't say anything, but that was exactly how he felt, only he knew it wouldn't change anything. It wouldn't fix him.

He rose from the couch and walked to a drawer, he opened it and took out an old shirt, throwing it over to Rose.

"You should change out of those wet clothes. There's a laundry room downstairs if you wanna throw your stuff in the drier."

She caught the shirt and nodded. "Yeah, there's no way in Hell I'm leaving you alone tonight. Not with Psycho Bitch on the prowl."

He smiled. "Wanna order a pizza?"

"You paying?"

After that, the two talked about why Rose left the Titans, and why she felt she didn't really fit there. They talked about Eddie, and how Rose had asked him to leave with her. That was a little painful.

Rose asked how things with Barbara were going (they were supposed to get married, after all.) However, the answer was nowhere. Apparently Dick was having a hard time functioning in the relationship, specifically because Barbara was always so micro-focused on everything he did. From what she understood, that was nothing new. Barbara had a reputation for being a little unforgiving, especially when it came to Dick. And Rose could totally understand why he didn't feel comfortable opening up to her about what he'd been through. He wanted her to see him as strong and competent. He'd probably feared she'd think he were exaggerating, or scold him for being too trusting with Catalina in the first place. And though his fears weren't necessarily warranted, she understood why he felt that way. Nobody wants the love of their life to see them as damaged.

He apparently tried his hand at a few other relationships, but nothing really seemed to fit. Everything just seemed uncomfortable, and in some cases, much like with Barb, they just didn't have the patience for his newfound affliction. It's like everything just felt so disconnected.

His concept of touch was altered, and not the violent sort, the intimate kind. Little gestures made his stomach sink, especially if he wasn't expecting them. There were times when a woman he was deathly attracted to would lean in, and he'd pull away without a second thought. It had just become instinct. Even something as simple and comforting as a hug had become a perversion of itself. He hated how things of such simple kindness now held such rue and disdain. Things that once breathed of love and strength were now among the things he feared most. It was like the ties to his humanity were cut clean from his bones.

Dick looked at the time to find the hour was far beyond late, and he was beginning to feel it as well.

"I think I'm gonna turn in," he said. "You can take the bed."

Rose shook her head. "No, I'm good with the couch. Unless, you wanna share the bed with me," she said with a sly grin.

"No offense," Dick said, and smiled, "but I'd rather take the couch. Nice try, though."

"What can I say, I'm not a quitter."

"And I admire that, but you're off-limits."

She smirked at him, as if his comment gave her some vague validation. "Yeah, but if you change your mind, the offer's still on the table," she added mischievously. "But for real, I'll take the couch. You're much taller than me, it's not really fair to make you sleep on it."

"You're not making me, I'm offering."

"And much like my offer, I'm not taking yours."

"Okay, then," Dick said, picking up a pillow. "Oh, and Rose…"

She turned and looked over at him questionably.

"If you pull that shit you pulled on Tim, I'm gonna kick your ass."

He threw the pillow at her and she smiled, actually looking a little embarrassed.

"Um, I plead the fifth," she replied, catching it. "But, I will say that I was absolutely shit-canned that night and my crowning achievement of the evening was that I didn't die."

"Sounds like you made some fucking mistakes."

"Oh, you know it."

"Night, Rose," he said, crawling into bed.

"Night, Deathwing."

He rolled his eyes. "I hate that name."

"I know."

He didn't get much sleep that night. For even in the still silence, his brain would not shut off. His body desperately ached to shut itself off, but this primal force would not allow it. He lay in bed, just staring at the ceiling, shuffling through the thoughts and fears. Counting the losses, wondering if there was anything gained through any of it, but he just couldn't seem to find anything.

Rose was fast asleep, curled up in a ball on the couch. He took a deep breath, both out of loss and boredom.

He couldn't help but wonder where she was then, where'd she'd been. If she'd been there this entire time, and he just hadn't seen her until now. What did that say if she had?

He finally found the word that he'd been searching for. The word that best described the vile taste in his mouth. The one that brought validation to the feeling he'd been struck with when he'd noticed her dressed all in black.

"Violated," he whispered into the darkness. That's how he felt—how he'd felt ever since the moment she'd touched him. Everything she'd done after that, and even before, was a violation of his life, his morality, his body and above all—his sanity.

He wondered if she'd even seen it that way. If there was one thing wrong with Catalina, it was her moral compass, but he couldn't see that as an excuse any longer. He couldn't accept that she just didn't know any better. If anything, that made it worse.

When the morning finally came, Dick had managed to snag a few meager hours of sleep, but it was better than nothing. He got up, showered, and made some coffee, the smell rousing Rose from what he could only describe as a near coma.

Lucky little bitch.

She stretched out on the couch like a lazy house cat who wanted her belly rubbed, but she wasn't so lucky.

"It lives," Dick said, bringing her a cup of much-needed coffee.

She smiled tiredly, sleep fresh in her eye. "Yeah, there were a few hours there where my soul was like, I should probably go …"

"Well, then consider this coffee the rejection notice to your DNR."

She took the mug and thanked him, taking a generous sip.

"So where you off to from here?" he asked, heading back behind the counter.

She shrugged. "Not sure yet. I'll probably just wander around until something sticks."

"And what if it doesn't?"

"Then I'll revise the game plan," she replied flatly. "Or maybe retire to Florida and die."

"You're kinda young for that," he laughed.

"When has age ever stopped me?"

He raised a brow. "Good point."

"What about you?" she asked. "What's next for Nightwing? "

"Breakfast." He took a carton of eggs from the fridge and a package of bacon. "You like bacon, right?"

"Uh, yeah," she replied, stretching again. "Anyone who doesn't can't be trusted."

"That's what I like to hear. Eggs scrambled?"

"Sure," she laughed, rising from the couch and leaning against the counter.

He noticed the shit eating grin on her face, he had to ask. "What's so funny?"

"Um, I'm wearing your T-shirt and you're making me breakfast, and the best part is, I didn't even have to blow you."

God, she has no filter, he thought. If that was her way of flirting, then at least one would always know where they stood with her.

"Well, I hate to ruin your little school girl fantasy, but would you mind beating the eggs?" he said, handing her a bowl and a whisk.

She smirked and opened her mouth to speak, but he cut her off at the pass. "And do not say what I know you're about to say."

"Oh you're no fun—I'm only kidding."

He laughed. "Rose, we both know you're not kidding."

She smiled coyly. "Guilty, but what do you want from me? At least I'm fun—unlike Kara. Now that girl's got a serious problem. You should see her Pinterest page. It's fucking creepy, and so is Cassie's…"

"I don't even understand what Pinterest is."

"Keep it that way, I wish I had. Girls get uber creepy on Pinterest." Rose paused a moment. "Speaking of creepy. I can only imagine what Cuntberry's Pinterest page looks like."

"Now I'm really happy I don't know what Pinterest is."

They went on to make breakfast and eat, continuing their banter, going on about old teammates and who was where. Dick offered to clean up while Rose took a shower, not that she needed an excuse to skip out on the cleanup. When she was done, she got dressed and ready to head out.

"You need anything," he asked, walking her out of the building, "like money or—"

"Thanks," she said, cutting him off, "but I'm good. Plus with a face like this, free alcohol won't be in short supply."

"I meant like... for food and a place to stay." He scowled playfully.

"I'm fine, my mom left me some money. So I'll be good until I figure out what the hell I'm doing."

"Well, I think you should go back to school."

"I have my GED, that's fine."

"A degree would better," he replied, pushing the door open. "You're a smart girl, it would be a shame to waste that."

"That coming from the boy who dropped out of Hudson University ... and became a cop."

"Hey, I got great benefits with that job."

"Yeah, 'cause being a trust fund brat doesn't pay, right?"

He pushed her playfully, and she punched his arm. "Ah," he whimpered, forgetting how strong she was. "So violent."

"Like you can't take it," she said, stepping out on the sidewalk. "So I guess this is me…"

He shrugged looking back at her and stepped out the door. "So where you staying?"

"Shitty motel, other side of town."

"Sounds swanky."

"It's kinda charming… if you like crime scene tape, the smell of burnt cigarette ash and a gratuitous amount of prostitution."

"Sounds a lot like your childhood."

She burst out laughing as if she didn't laugh she'd cry. "Sadly true. Lord only knows the damage I've suffered at the hands of my parents."

He smiled, reaching into his pocket, and took something out. "Here," he said, holding a pre-pay phone. "My number's already programmed in it. If you need anything, let me know."

She smiled gratefully and took the device. "Does that also include—" she began mischievously, until Dick stopped her.

"3am booty calls—no."

"Damn," she sighed. "Worth a shot though. And thank you… for putting up with me and my nonsense."

"Well, your nonsense actually helped me get through a pretty tough night so… thank you."

"Well, if you need anything, I'll probably be around later."

"I'll keep that in mind." He smiled.

She began to turn, but stopped and turned back to him. "Y'know how you're always telling me to not be so hard on myself and that I shouldn't be dwelling on the past because I can't change it and all that shit?"

He shrugged. "Yeah, vaguely."

"You should do the same," she replied. "You can't change what happened, but you can be stronger for it."

He looked at her a moment. She may not have been without her faults, but she really did possess a heart of gold. And he couldn't have been prouder of her.

He pulled her into a hug, slightly taking the girl by surprise, but she quickly relaxed into it.

"Thank you," he whispered. "It's nice to know I did something right."

She smiled against his shoulder. "You saw the good in me when I couldn't, I thought you deserved the same," she said, then finally pulled away. "Well this has officially gotten far too sappy for my liking. I'm off like a prom dress, Grayson."

"Bye, Rose!" He waved. "And be good!"

A smug expression fixed on her face. "I can make no such promise," she droned, "but for you, I'll try…"

He watched her leave, hoping she too, would find her place in the world. It would be a shame if she didn't. When she was gone, he turned to go back upstairs when a thought crossed his mind. A thought that raised the hair on the back of his neck. He looked around, it was like he could feel her , like he knew she was there, but he just couldn't see her.

I'm just being paranoid, he thought. I need to stop thinking about this.

He grudgingly shook off the feeling and headed back into his building. When he reached his apartment, he dug into his pocket, and his heart dropped.

"Damn it," he hissed, realizing he'd misplaced his key.

It wasn't really that big of a deal, he was more than capable of breaking into his own apartment. He just didn't really feel like doing it. He looked around, and noticed an old bobby pin lying on the floor, not far from where he stood.

"Perfect."

He picked up the pin and bent it back, he'd have the lock picked in no time. He placed his hand on the knob and inserted the pin, but before he could go to work on the lock, he realized the door was unlocked.

He froze. "No, it can't be…"

He turned the knob with an unsteady hand and slowly pushed the door open. He peeked his head in, looking around to see if anyone was there. He finally found the nerve to step inside. Part of him actually contemplating calling Rose and asking her to come back.

Fucking man up, Grayson , he thought, silently scolding himself, especially since a year prior this would have been nothing to him.

He looked around, nothing seemed to have been touched or out of place, everything was just the way he'd left it… except for one thing.

His eyes fell on his pillow; there was something lying there, something that just didn't belong. He approached his bed, slowly, readying himself for anything that came his way in that moment. Deep down, he hoped he was just over-exaggerating, that maybe Rose had left it there for him. But any hope of that was dashed when he peered down at the envelope and saw her handwriting, scratched across the white paper in red.

Mi Amor, it read as he picked it up, a vile mix of anger, fear, disgust and bitterness pressing into his flesh as he held it.

She was here…

His knees buckled and he collapsed, too overcome by the thought that she'd been in his home. That she could, and did, actually take that security away from him. How could she? Did she actually think this tactic was romantic? Or was this simply just a power play? How long had she been waiting for him to leave? She had to have been watching him.

He felt sick and threw the letter down, scrambling for the waste basket, his body violently purging the contents of his stomach. He dry heaved a few times, his breath tight, his heart pounding in his throat. His face was hot, everything was hot.

He tried to focus, and pull himself out his current state of duress. "Think of something else…"

But he couldn't. And the truth was, that was what she wanted. She didn't want any other thought to cross his mind, she wanted that space for herself. She wanted to consume him.

He sat there a while, forgetting about time, his mind just completely racing until it finally grew numb. Everything went numb.

He resented it—feeling like a victim, but he was one, and he hated her for it. He hated how weak he'd become and how easily he crumbled at the mere thought of her. He hated that she'd infiltrated him and festered in his mind. That she was the source of such rotten memories, each one decaying as he slept, the infection spreading through his consciousness and destroying his sanity cell by cell.

He looked down at his hands, flashing back to an image that had burned itself in his mind, one that made him recoil. He could see her face through the billowing shadows and the silver flecks of rain, her eyes cast down on him. Through the still frames, his quaking hand reached up to stop her, but failed to do so, his objection falling on not a deaf ear, but an ignorant one. He felt empty, like he'd died, his heart ceasing to beat, but somehow, left watching from his empty shell. Like a cage with a dead bird inside.

Now, in that very hand, he held the letter, nearly forgetting it was there. He didn't want to open it, he didn't care what she had to say, or how she felt, or how fucking crazy she was. None of that mattered, she'd already taken too much. She could kill him for all he cared, at least then it would be over.

He pulled himself together and tore the envelope open. He took out the piece of fine paper, a faint scent hitting him like a ghost he was far too familiar with. It was her perfume, an odious blend of mahogany and teakwood. It was slightly musky and wreaked of her cruel brand of femininity. The smell was enough to force his flesh to crawl, his hand aching as his eyes flashed with the loathsome image of her shadow in the rain.

He took a heavy breath and unfolded the note, the same red ink staining the purity of the pale page, his stony blue eyes growing grey as the storm rolled in.

To my dearest Amor, Mi Tesoro,

(And if that wasn't enough to induce vomiting...)

It's been far too long, I know. My time away from you has been nothing but agonizing. I tried—I really did—to stay away like you asked of me, but… I just couldn't. And to be honest, if I could find a way to tie you to me so that you'd never leave me again—I would. No one could ever love you the way I do, or as much as I do, Mi Amor.

As for the last time we saw each other, I forgive you. I know you were in a dark place then, and I'm hoping you'll let me help to ease that pain. I would die for you, I hope you know that.

I'm sorry to contact you like this, but I cannot stand the thought of you rejecting me in person—not again. I want to start over with you, I want things to be different between us. Please meet me tonight at the bar. After seeing you last night, I can't wait any longer. I don't know what I'll do if you don't show… Please just give me this one thing.

If for whatever reason you decide not to show, just know I love you with my dying breath, and know I always will…

Todo Mi Amor, Catalina

Her words read like sugar laced with cyanide, delusional and so far removed from the suffering she'd caused. Like she'd come back to rip what was left from his half-empty chest. The letter still hung in his hands, the red ink somehow disturbing to him. Granted, the whole gesture was disturbing to him. She'd violated his privacy, his home, his body, and written down every word of it as though it were love. And maybe it was-the deadly kind .

He looked again at that last line, those deathly sweet words bring him back to one moment.

It's never gonna stop…

And, indeed, it was never going to stop.

He buried his face in his hands, rubbing his eyes, trapped in grief. He just didn't know what to do. He tried running off, he tried sending her away. He'd literally had her locked up and thrown away the key, and still, she somehow managed to slither her way out of that. What could he do now?

He finally removed himself from the floor and made sure every window and door was locked up tight. He immediately ripped off all his clothes and took another shower in a feverish, angry fashion, the water so hot it nearly blistered his skin, and remained that way until it finally ran numbingly cold. But he still felt dirty.

He got out of the shower and looked at his worn face in the mirror. He felt as though he'd aged about a thousand years, yet he was trapped in the body of a twenty-something year-old man. A shell of who he used to be. That foul taste still sour in his mouth, mixing with the sick taste of bile. If only she were like old gum to him, momentarily sweet, but tasteless, something he could spit out and forget. He did his best to brush away the putrid flavor, but like so many nights he'd endured, he just couldn't rid himself of her aftertaste.

He didn't bother getting dressed, he just crawled into bed and lay there, wishing he could sleep, but such a mercy was not granted to him. As the hours passed, he thought about the yesterdays: The long sleepless nights, the following days after Blockbuster's death and what came of it. Each frame passed by him like a fog, like ghosts without names, aimlessly moving through him. Their cold hands removing pieces of him and burying them beneath wilting flowers where they'd lie forgotten, rotting away into nothing.

After a few hours of silently wasting away, he looked at the time. It was a little after 5pm. He was hungry, but he didn't really care, mostly because it didn't matter what he ate, he'd still taste her.

His phone rang, startling him. He missed the days when he wasn't so jumpy. Now if someone so much as touched him, his skin would crawl. He didn't want to bother getting it, but knew if he didn't, it might raise some concerns on the other end. He just hoped it wasn't anything important. Or better yet, he hoped it wasn't her.

"Hello?"

"Hey," he heard Rose say, "whatcha up to?"

Lying in bed contemplating killing myself. "Nothing, thinking about making dinner. You?"

"Eating dinner, and binge-watching Dexter. "

"That sounds… like a weird combo…"

"Yeah, this show makes me hungry, as do most things, really."

Dick shook his head. She really did take after her uncle Wade.

"So did you just call to tell me about how watching a serial killer dismember other serial killers makes you wanna polish off a second plate of ribs, or did you actually need something?"

She giggled a moment, but then got back to the matter at hand. "No, I was calling to see how you were. Y'know, that whole song and dance…"

He smiled vaguely, but felt guilty. He didn't want to lie to her, but that was exactly what he was going to do.

"I'm fine, Rose. You don't need to worry about me," You have enough to worry about…

"You sound a little…" She paused, trying to find a delicate way to put it. "Y'know, like you're thinking of going down the street instead of across it." Well… delicate for her.

He sighed. "It's not like that."

It kind of was.

"Anything I missed?"

He looked down at the letter. "Nope, just still a little shaken from last night, that's all."

"Y'know, if you want me to, I can come over…"

Part of him really wanted the company, but the other part of him didn't want to drag her in any deeper than she was. "I'm fine, Rose. I'm still trying to figure shit out."

"I know," she replied. "I just know how hard it is when the very thing that emptied you is out there and you know it."

She may have been young, but she knew a lot about betrayal, abuse, and heartbreak. Though in Dick's case, heartbreak wasn't at all the right term. It was more like having his heart cut out.

"Do you think if I confronted her," Dick asked cautiously, "it would be a bad idea?"

There was a pause from Rose's end, and he could hear her breath hitch slightly. "No," she finally began, "I think if that's what you need to do, then you should do it." There was conviction in her voice. She understood all too well. "But Dick…"

"Yeah."

"If you do, just know that it will probably end badly. You never really know what you're capable of when someone who's hurt you that deeply is standing right there in front of you… You might not even know what she's capable of."

She wasn't wrong. Dick could think of one particular moment where he'd come dangerously close to bludgeoning Catalina to death. His outburst frightened him. He'd never before been that angry or volatile, and the fact was, in that moment, he wanted kill her.

Maybe I shouldn't go…

"But I understand that maybe you need to face her, let her see what she did to you. Let her know what will happen if she ever tries to do that to you again…"

He took a deep breath, he'd never really gotten the closure he needed. He was too wrapped up in everything else. Not to mention, part of him was still in denial, trying forget it ever happened. But it didn't matter how many times he told himself it was a simple "misunderstanding," or how many times he tried to chalk it up to guilt, it still happened, and it happened to him.

"So what do you have on the agenda tonight?"

He could hear Rose click her tongue, and she replied, "I was gonna polish off a third plate of ribs," she joked, "but if you have a suggestion, I might be down…"

"I was thinking of getting a drink… "

A few more hours had passed. Dick had gotten dressed and finally left his apartment, which took more effort than he liked to admit. However, it helped to know that he wasn't going into this situation blindly or alone.

The rain from the night before had dissipated, the air cool as the wind blew over his shoulder. The street was unusually quiet for once. It was peaceful, but unnerving, much like the past year. Hopefully that meant something—something good.

Each step took a little more persuasion than the last, each muscle recalling the touch of her cold hands, the stink of the rain and emptiness that followed all of it. The only thing that drove him was the notion that this might lead to the end. That whatever followed tonight was for the better. He just hoped, silently prayed it was true.

He finally approached the bar, and that uncomfortable feeling grew tighter in chest. It reminded him of how he felt after he'd lost his parents. The loss and uncertainty colliding together like the harsh winds and rains of a hurricane, leaving a lifetime of devastation in its wake.

He paused when he got to the door. Part of him wanted to turn away and just forget about the whole thing. However, he wasn't sure what would happen in the fallout if he did. He took another deep breath, and pulled the door open. The bar wasn't overly crowded, unlike the night before. The table by the window was open, and he sat himself down like he'd never left. He looked around, trying to get a better sense of his surroundings. Rose was already sitting in the back corner, polishing off what looked like a Mai Ti, the poor guy next to her probably striking out. She glanced over at Dick with a sly grin, and bit into the cherry left in the boozy remnants of her drink.

Yeah, the poor bastard's not getting very far with her.

Dick looked around. Catalina was nowhere to be found, and part of him hoped it would stay that way. But he knew he wouldn't be so lucky, she'd show eventually, and if she didn't, he didn't even want know what would happen then.

A period of ten, then twenty minutes went by. Rose was already finishing her second drink and chewing through her second guy, while Dick hadn't even taken a sip of his beer. He heard the door open and he looked up, a cold wash of fear running straight through his veins. She looked over at him and smiled, disturbingly, as if nothing were amiss. Like she couldn't even see that he was practically crawling out of his skin.

She went straight to the bar, happily flirting with the bartender who remembered her. He fixed her a glass of red wine and poured a few fingers of whisky. The whole time Dick glared at her, noticing her lip color was the same, her frame now covered in a form fitted black coat. He heard his phone vibrate, and quickly checked it.

Rose: Something tells me Tits has your whole funeral planned out on Pinterest.

He shook his head and replied: Seriously, she looks like she's dressed for the occasion too!

"What's so funny?" he heard, and looked up. There she was.

She set down her wine and pulled out her chair, placing the whisky in front of Dick.

"I thought you could use this," she said, pulling off her coat and sitting down.

"I think I'm good," Dick replied, pushing it away. "I remember the last time I accepted a drink from you."

She was still wearing black, this dress being a little different from the last, but cut just as low and shamefully short. Once again, she looked like some rich trophy wife burying the husband she killed.

"So you do blame me for that ?"

"You got me shit-faced and tried to make me marry you," Dick scowled, "how is that not your fault?"

Catalina smiled as if nothing were wrong. "I didn't come here to argue, Mi Amor, I—"

"DON'T, call me that ," Dick snapped angrily.

She glared at him, nearly speechless. "I've always called you that—"

"Well, I don't want you to," Dick growled. "I never did."

"Like I said," Catalina continued cautiously, "I didn't come here to argue, I came here to talk."

"You have five minutes and that's all you're getting from me."

She lifted her wine and fraughtly sipped it. "So I see you're still upset with me."

"You could call it that, yeah."

"I thought giving you time would help, I guess I was wrong." She peered down at the drink she'd bought him, still untouched. "You're really not gonna drink that?"

"No," Dick replied coldly, "I don't want anything from you."

She looked back at him, insulted. "I didn't know what I was doing then, okay? I was just as lost as you were."

"Really, because it felt like you were leading the way. Leading me right off a damn cliff."

"Because you let me," she asserted. "You did the moment you got out of my way."

His stare hardened, and for a moment, he almost saw red. "You bitch," he hissed. "You still want me to believe that it was my fault . You still want me to feel guilty for what you did."

"I did what needed to be done." She lifted her glass again. "I did what you couldn't."

"Because it was wrong. "

"Sometimes a little wrong can serve a great right." She smiled at him, like she didn't feel anything. "I know you have a hard time seeing that, it's why I did what I did. So you didn't have to."

"So what, you want me to thank you?" Dick asked bitterly. "That's what you want, isn't it? Because if I thank you, then I own it, right?"

"No," she replied with a chill, and placed her glass on the table. "I wanna know it was worth it."

"I've given you enough, I'm not giving you that too."

"You really believe that?" she asked, wounded. "You haven't given me nearly what I've given you."

Dick laughed patronizingly. "You're a liar. The only thing you have ever done is take, Catalina. And I don't know what else you want from me, but I have nothing left for you to take."

Her face softened, but he wasn't sure why. "I don't know what you mean… but heartbreak can bring out the ugliness in all of us."

He thought he was going to lose it.

"Heartbreak?" he questioned. "Fucking heartbreak!"

"Keep your voice down, people can hear yo—"

"No, Cat," he declared, leering at her, "you didn't break my heart, you ATE it. That way I could never get it back!"

She grimaced. "I don't understand where this is coming from, Mi Amor. I would never intentionally hurt you like tha—"

His hand fell on the table with a slamming percussion. "Then why did you fucking rape me, Cat?" Dick hissed, so that only Catalina could hear him.

Her brow creased as she leaned in. "What the hell…" She was speechless, a little taken back. "What are you even talking about? I would never do such a thing to you..."

"The rooftop, Cat! What, you don't remember? Was me telling you not to touch me just a minor inconvenient detail to you?"

"We went over this," she reasoned, hushed, "you were in shock, you didn't know what you were saying—"

"Then why the hell would you think it'd be a good idea to fuck me then?"

"There is no need to be vulgar. I—"

"Vulgar," Dick laughed. "I'm sorry my choice of words is making you uncomfortable—I mean you raped me, so I guess I owe you some sense of decency, right?"

"Stop saying that—it didn't happen like that."

"Yes, it did," he insisted. "You fucking raped me and you do it every time you sit there and act as if you're entitled to a part of me—to a part of my life . Or when you act like it's me—like I'm the one with the problem!"

"Because all I've ever done is love you and you've given me nothing!" she spat, her face beaming red.

"So you fucking took it, you bitch," he seethed, his voice poisonous.

"You never appreciated anything I did for you," she hissed. "I almost spent my entire life behind bars for you!"

"For what you did, in my name," Dick corrected. "How the fuck do you think that makes me feel?"

"Loved," she replied with a warning, like it was some end all-be all. "I did it because I love you, because I saw how much you needed me, how much you needed me to do that for you . And you let me. Tell me that isn't love ."

He was honestly frightened. He could see that deep in her eyes she believed what she was saying. That she thought by killing Blockbuster, it would make him love her, but it didn't. It only pushed him away, and she couldn't let go of that.

"You need help."

"I need you," she countered. "I love you more than anything, and I can't live without you ."

"Is that supposed to scare me?" Dick asked. "Because I'm not falling for it, not this time."

"So what? Blockbuster's death is a stain on your conscience, but my life, what—not so much?"

Dick looked away from her, he knew she would probably play this card. The truth was, he would care if she did something to hurt herself, especially to spite him—it terrified him, in fact. But if he played into it, she'd win, and he'd never be free of her.

"No, of course I'd care, but if you really loved me, you wouldn't leave me with that guilt. That would destroy me, and you know that. How is that love?"

He could see her blood practically boiling. He had her cornered logically, she wasn't getting out of this one.

Lucky for her, she didn't have to. The bartender approached them, standing behind Cat and looking at Dick as if he were the bad guy.

"If there's a problem here, I'm gonna have to ask you to leave," he said, obviously addressing Dick.

He looked over to the man, he was just doing what he thought was right, rescuing the damsel. Dick would have done the same if he didn't know any better. But still, it made him sick that everyone would assume she was the victim—that she actually thought and acted like the victim.

Dick pushed out his chair when Catalina turned and raised her hand.

"There's no problem here," she said calmly, "this is just a simple misunderstanding ."

She looked over at Dick, she wanted him to agree. Only he wasn't interested in doing what she wanted—not anymore.

"It's okay," he said, letting his eyes drift down to Catalina, "I was getting ready to leave, anyway."

The Bartender looked over at Dick as though he were one lucky son of a bitch, and smiled at the Catalina. "Well if you need anything, just let me know."

Yeah, wait till she bites your apple, hero, Dick thought a little bitterly as the man walked back over to the bar, his eyes still trained on Dick like a hawk.

Dick began to rise from the table, but the black widow protested. "We're not done here."

Dick looked back at her warningly. "I am."

She sneered from across the table and stood up as if to block his exit.

"Well I'm not."

Dick looked back at her, a little intimidated, not so much for the fact that she was standing in his way, but for the fact that if he even touched her he'd probably get his ass thrown in jail, and she knew that.

He peered over her shoulder to see Rose stand up, ready to kick "Tits" into next Tuesday if need be. Dick looked back at her, visually telling her to stand down. He couldn't allow her to take the fall for him—as much as she wanted to.

Catalina noticed his line of sight and looked behind her, a thick scowl casting over any beauty left on her face. She trained her sight back on Dick, the scowl taking on a mocking expression.

"What? Not man enough to face me without your little pet ? Nice, Dick."

Like she had any right to talk about pride or strength. She didn't know the first thing about being strong or brave. He needed to let her know that.

"You're the one who's jealous of a 17-year-old girl, but if you really must know, she replaced you, and she's ten times the hero you could ever dream of being, Catalina. You'll never be anything to anyone."

Out of anything he said, that seemed to hit her the hardest, but he wasn't sure why. Was it because he'd replaced her, or was it because he valued the replacement more than her? Or was it because he took away her validation as a hero?

She looked down bitterly, and made a fist. "Fine," she growled, "if that's how you feel, fine! But this isn't over…"

He didn't like the way she said that, but regardless, he let her continue.

"…Not by a long shot," she continued harshly. "So when you're done playing with little girls , I'll be waiting."

She leaned in as if she were going to kiss him, his lips hardened and cold, but she only smiled mockingly, hoping whatever stains she'd left on his soul would fester one last time. She placed her fist in his hand, her smirk deepening, feeling him writhe at the contact, but he still held his ground. He felt a small piece of paper fall into his palm and she closed his fist around it, holding her hands around his. He knew she was aware that he could do nothing, that's why she was doing it. He leered at her with a burning hatred, but that was all he could do. For now.

"Until then, Mi Amor."

He watched her walk out the door, the bartender still glaring at him. He wanted him out, and Dick was happy to oblige.

Rose finally moved from her corner, trying to mask the fact she was nervous for him, but covered it smugly.

"Ready to go?" she asked, and he nodded.

Within moments, the two were nearly out the door, but not before one last outburst.

"Wait," the frat boy who'd bought Rose a few drinks said, "you're going home with him? He didn't even buy you a drink!"

Rose looked back at the guy like he were wearing a helmet or something. "Yeah, last time I checked, buying a girl a few drinks was about as binding as a pinky swear. Stop acting like you bought me a lobster."

Dick shrugged at the guy, as did the bartender. Yeah, it sucked, but hey, home girl owed him nothing.

"Ready to go, Rose?"

"Like a prom dress."

And with a roll of the bartender's eye, they left.

They walked outside, the wind blowing a little harsher now. The sky above was clear, the stars managing to shine over the cityscape despite its dull radiance lifting into the air.

Dick admittedly felt a little freer, like some of the weight he'd been shouldering was alleviated, the space in his chest aching less. He'd said everything he needed to say to her, even if she wouldn't own up to any of it. He wasn't stupid, he knew she'd never acknowledge her wrongdoings, but it would have helped if she had. He may have even held some hope for her, but he knew now he should have never placed such a fragile thing in her hands to begin with.

"So was it worth it?" Rose finally asked, uncertainty bleeding from her eye.

Dick took a breath and nodded. "Yeah, I'm not fixed, but I'm better. And that's a good start."

Rose smiled weakly at him, she knew what it was like to feel that way. Just always short of whole.

"Yeah, it gets better with time."

Dick shuddered at the thought. Time was something that had become unbearable to him, to think it could actually help mend his wounds, seemed a little deceptive.

"I hope you're right." He walked over to her and placed his hand on her shoulder blade, guiding her down the street. "Thanks again. I don't know if I could have faced her without someone I trusted to back me up."

Rose smiled coyly. "You trust me?"

"Yeah," Dick said, and looked at her oddly. "I wouldn't have pushed for you to be a Titan if I didn't. What makes you think I don't?"

Her eyes fell on the ground. "Cause no one really does. Eddie did, but he's gone now. You just never really said it, so… I don't know—I guess I wouldn't have blamed you if you didn't…"

He stopped and turned to face her. "Trust is something that you shouldn't have to say out loud, Rose, it's just something you feel. I trust you because at the end of the day you wear your heart on your sleeve and you don't bullshit anyone. I know you think you're not a good person, but you are, and deep down, you just want people to see that. You're a hero because you want to be a better person, and when you help people, you do it because it's right, not because you're looking for a favor, or to be favored."

"That's because you haven't received my bill yet, Grayson. You've racked up quite the tab, too," she joked, trying to get the focus off of her. "I'm kidding, by the way."

"I know. Humor is how you deal with crazy shit, it's that or anger. I'm glad you're turning to the former."

"I learned that from you," she said softly. "I saw how much you were hurting, yet you still found a way to make light of everything. I thought I'd give it a try."

"I'm glad you did."

They reached her Harley and she turned to her mentor with a sentimental half-smile. "Well, it's been real, but like every great adventure, my time here has come to an end."

"Yeah, I'm really gonna miss you. I'm shocked you haven't made a sexual innuendo all night."

"Well, it didn't seem appropriate given the circumstances, but, I found out the age of consent is 16 in the state of New Jersey… So y'know, if you wanna make out with me before I ride off into the horizon, I'd be cool with that."

Dick smiled and shook his head. "I'm aware what the legal age of consent is, and no, no offense."

"You and your morality, Grayson," she said, picking up her helmet. "Maybe I'll have more luck with your brother."

"My brother?"

"You know, the guy with the red helmet, what's his name?"

"Oh… Jason," Dick said, less than enthused, "he comes with a lot of baggage."

"And you don't?"

"Touché."

"Well, I'm gonna head off now," Rose laughed. "No more psycho stalkers, okay?"

"I'll do my best," he said with a smile. "No more letting creepy guys buy you drinks."

"I let you buy me drinks."

He pulled her into a hug and kissed the top of her head. "Please take care of yourself, Rose."

She looked up at him and nodded. "I will, I promise… Deathwing."

"Okay, now get the hell out of my city and stop calling me that."

As he watched her go, he realized he finally understood. Understood why Catalina, a self-centered, ego-driven narcissist wanted to be a hero. It had nothing to do with helping humanity, or even making one life better. She had no need for that, it was all about power. Everything she did, every move she made was self-serving or a display of dominance. Killing Blockbuster, that was simply her playing God, forcing herself on Dick; that was taking what she wanted, but couldn't have, and she'd just reminded him of that. She couldn't leave him until she'd had the last word, till she'd sunk her fangs in him one last time to poison him. She just had to take away his power. Well, not anymore. If she wanted to act like an insect, he'd just have to crush her like one.

She waited, a glass of wine in her hand. She took as sip and looked down at her phone, recollecting the call she'd received. She was a bit shaken when she heard his voice, her heart teetering on its tipping point. He told her he was too rash, that he let his anger get the better of him, but he was ready to talk now. Ready to hear what she had to say. That he couldn't wait. She'd smiled at that, she knew he'd come around, he always did.

Without a second thought, she gave him her address and invited him over, telling him she would make it all better and left him with that.

She took another sip, her anticipation pumping through her veins, the heat of the wine mingling with her blood. She'd been waiting an hour, though it felt like a decade, but that hour was nothing compared to the lifetime she'd spent waiting for him.

A knock rapped at the door, and her heart skipped a beat. Her breath hitched and she placed her glass down on the table and went to the door, taking a moment to check her makeup and fix her dress. She composed herself, taking a moment to quell her near giddiness. She finally opened the door, doing her best to display her most convincing bedroom eyes and found him in their fabled stare.

"Mi Tesoro," she said, sickeningly sweet, "I knew you'd come."

He smiled at her subtly. "You gonna invite me in?"

"Oh, of course, Mi Amor," she said huskily, "you're always welcome."

She shifted out of his way and he stepped inside. He took a quick look around. Her apartment wasn't big, but none of them were in that neighborhood. He should know—it was his neighborhood, after all.

"So tell me, darling," she began, closing the door, the faint click of the lock following, "why the sudden change of heart?"

He looked over at her and shrugged nonchalantly. "You were right, I was just upset. I wasn't being fair to you… I'm sorry ."

She smiled, flashing a hint of victory. "I forgive you," she said, walking toward her prize. "Now why don't you let me heal you, Mi Amor." She placed her hands on his chest, a sinful look in her eye. "I promise, baby, I'm gonna take good care of you now."

He brought his hands to her face and smiled, cradling it as she closed her eyes, leaning in to seal her prey's fate. Only Dick had other plans.

His hand slid to the back of her neck and his face hardened to stone. His grip on her became cold and tight as he suddenly conjured an unnecessary amount of strength. Channeling every ounce of hatred, every violation, and every last bit of fear he held for her. He threw her, face first, into the high table beside them. She collided with the object with a violent force, the tempered glass surface cracking, and her wine glass shattering as it hit the the tile. She collapsed to the floor, blood pouring from her nose and into her mouth. She lifted her head, her body still in shock, as a rough hand tangled itself in her hair and pulled her motionless body around to face him.

He knelt down, hovering over her with an infuriated look in his eyes. She tried to look away from him, but he gripped her jaw and forced her to stare in his direction. She was going to hear this, whether she wanted to or not.

"If you so much as cast a shadow in my fucking direction, I will finish this job," he growled in a low voice. "As far as I'm concerned, you're dead to me, Catalina—and I never wanna see your fucking face again! Got it?!"

She whimpered a little and nodded, but refused to cry in front of him, as though she could keep some sense of dignity if she didn't.

"Bitch," he huffed in her face, a faint spray of saliva hitting her cheek with a hateful breath.

He released her heartlessly and got up, storming out of her apartment as quickly as he'd struck her. She heard the door slam shut, cutting the last tie left between them. She flinched at the sound, like it hurt, and began to cry. She was finally afraid of him; she didn't have any power left to play. She had lost him, for good this time.

Dick threw on his hood, stepping out onto the street and into the cool night air. The wind had subsided and for the first time in a year, he felt his stomach calm. He didn't feel the need to look over his shoulder anymore. The bleeding in his chest had finally quelled.

He couldn't change what had happened to him, and he couldn't change what happened in the wake of it all. But he could change who he became as a result of it all. He knew he wouldn't be cured overnight, but he knew, in time, he'd be fine again. He could move on now. He could finally breach the surface and breathe—he could live. And for that, he could find enough strength to embrace the tomorrows and move out of the yesterdays.

The air somehow smelled sweeter—cleaner, even. Like the smoke had lifted, and the fires burned out, no longer hindering his senses. He could see beyond the rubble to a path beyond the ruins. He took a deep breath, taking the cold air in like it was the first time he'd ever done so.

Clarity, he thought, feeling the ground beneath his feet again, the world indeed still there. He wasn't afraid anymore. He wasn't waiting for some unspeakable thing to pull him into its undertaking. No. For the first time in so long, he was free of her. Free from her hold and presence, and more importantly, free of her memory.

He couldn't taste her anymore.

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