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storytellerofuntoldlegends · 3 years ago

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an icarus and his sun: chapter 11

A/N: bit of a shorter chapter this time, so i was able to get it out quicker! scott pov again :)

Warnings: injury, fever, unconsciousness, mild amnesia, corruption/infection, self-blame, self-worth issues, talk of death

AO3 Link - Tumblr Masterpost

Scott drifted in and out of consciousness, unsure of what was happening. He didn’t even register where he was at first, just heard faint but familiar voices. Then he was being lifted up, his head gently tucked into the crook of someone’s neck, and someone else’s delicate touch supporting his wings. Then some innumerable amount of darkness later, and he registered laying on something soft before there was a hand on his arm and a yelp. The yelp had sounded like Gem- had he made it to her empire? More murmuring voices, and Scott drifted out again.

The next time he drifted towards a more semi-conscious state, he was instantly filled with relief. He hadn’t really realized how warm he felt until something cool was placed on his forehead. If Scott had the energy to, he would have let out a grateful sigh. Then a hand gently ran through his hair, and Scott just about melted- in a good way this time, instead of the fever-warm kind. He must have made some sort of reaction, because he heard a half amused, half relieved chuckle from above him.

“I think the compress is helping,” the owner of the chuckle said- voice so devastatingly familiar but Scott’s brain was too fever-addled to remember who it belonged to. Inexplicably it made him think of slimeballs and glimmering scales, but he didn’t have the slightest idea why.

“Or playing with someone’s hair is the cure for corruption,” another voice teased. There was an indignant reply, a laugh from the second voice- but Scott sank into darkness again before he could decipher who either of the voices were.

Scott was shivering the next time he came to some semblance of awareness. Something soft was pulled over him, and whatever was put on his forehead before was adjusted. The hand in his hair was gone though, and he managed to make a distressed sound at that. There was a soft murmur, some comforting words that Scott couldn’t quite make out, but then there was a hand in his hair again and Scott sighed in relief. He managed to blearily blink his eyes open, and met the gaze of a pair of soft brown eyes wide with surprise and concern. The owner of the eyes had a mess of blond hair on his head, and somehow that felt wrong to Scott. The eyes he knew, but the hair… he felt like it was something he shouldn’t be seeing. But at the same time he felt he had seen it before, on a night with shimmering bronze details, dancing, and betrayal. But Scott couldn’t place why he remembered those things when looking up at the person gazing down at him.

“Easy, you’re alright. Let’s try and get some water in you, maybe a health potion too,” the devastatingly familiar man said. He shifted away from Scott, causing a distressed sound to leave his lips. The man chuckled.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere. Just gonna help you sit up a bit,” he murmured, doing just so and letting Scott lean on him when he couldn’t stay upright by himself. His wings reflexively stretched out, and Scott let out a relieved sound at the ache in his wings lessening slightly. An amused giggle came from somewhere on Scott’s other side.

“Guess we should probably make sure he’s not resting on his wings too much, huh?” the owner of the giggle said in a teasing tone. That got a semi-flustered nervous chuckle from the man holding him, who had started to gently prod Scott out from where he had been tucked into the crook of his neck. Scott made a displeased sound, trying to nuzzle into the man’s hold further. Another giggle sounded.

“Gem, stop laughing at me and help, he’s being clingy,” the man pouted. Wait- Gem? Scott knew that name. Why did he know that name?

“Don’t act like you don’t like it, Jimmy,” the other voice- Gem, apparently, teased back. The name Jimmy definitely sounded familiar, it sparked butterflies in Scott’s stomach and reminded him of teasing banter and cocky smiles. The man- Jimmy- sighed and finally got Scott out from his hiding place in the space where Jimmy’s neck and shoulder met. His head was tilted back, and something cool was pressed to his lips. He eagerly drank down the water, earning him a gently reprimanding “slow down” from Jimmy. But soon the water was gone, and despite it helping him feel much better than before, Scott found himself incredibly drained of energy as he slumped back against Jimmy. He made a distressed sound as he felt darkness tugging at him again.

“It’s alright, you can rest. I’ll be right here, I promise. I won’t let you go, ever again,” Jimmy said with gentle determination. He wasn’t sure why, but Scott felt relieved at the assurance. His eyes slipped shut, and he dimly registered a hand smoothing out his feathers as he let the darkness claim him once more.

Scott’s next semi-coherent moment was one full of pain. It felt like there was fire spreading out from his forearm, all the way up to his shoulder and down to his fingertips. There was something pulsing and squirming beneath his skin too, in tandem with the pain in his arm. He let out a choked scream when someone touched his arm, the pain intensifying so much that Scott felt like he could barely breathe. Someone took his other hand, and there was a hand gently running through his hair. Scott relaxed ever so slightly at the familiar reassuring touches, even as tears of pain started streaming down his face.

“It’s okay, breathe Scott, you’ll be alright. Squeeze my hand if you need to, it’ll be okay. I’m here, I promised you I’d be right here, remember?” a voice said- and Scott wanted to remember. He wanted to remember this person’s reassurances, wanted to remember why this person’s voice inexplicably meant so much to him- but all Scott could do was scream as the pain intensified again.

“We have to stop, this is only hurting him,” another voice said, cool and collected with an undertone of worry. The pain stopped, and Scott sobbed in relief, his hand loosening the tight grip on the other person’s hand- when had he started clutching at him so tightly? His chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath, his already blurry vision darkening at the edges.

“You’re alright, sorry about that, we thought maybe that would work. We’ll figure something out, I promise,” the first voice said, running a hand through his hair. Scott wanted to ask how this person was so confident that everything would be okay, but he passed out again before he got the chance.

The last time Scott woke up, he thought he was dead. This was the most coherent he had been in a while, but despite that, he somehow saw Jimmy sitting beside him, eyes closed with his cod head nowhere to be seen and a hand loosely clasped over Scott’s. Surely this had to be a dream, or some sort of bizarre afterlife where he saw visions of Jimmy actually caring about him. All those hazy memories from before, of someone Scott now definitely knew was Jimmy soothing him and reassuring him? That couldn't have been real. Why would it be? Scott had betrayed Jimmy. He shouldn't want anything to do with Scott… but that didn't mean Scott didn't want to enjoy the fantasy while it lasted.

Jimmy suddenly stirred beside Scott, hand gripping his own a bit tighter and causing his heart to flutter. Soft brown eyes blinked open, hazy for a moment before they registered Scott staring right back. An elated, relieved grin came over Jimmy’s face, and Scott really must have been dead or dreaming to earn a look like that. No way that the real Jimmy would care about him that much after everything that Scott had done.

"How are you feeling?" Jimmy asked softly, and Scott could only blink in confusion.

"Am I dead?" Scott blurted, voice hoarse from such little use. Jimmy let out a nervous chuckle at the outburst, shaking his head fondly.

"It was admittedly looking pretty bad… it's still not looking great if I'm honest- but your fever's finally gone down. So you're alive," Jimmy gently explained. Interesting. So maybe this was a fever dream then? But if this was real, and Scott really was going to be okay… he had so much he needed to say to Jimmy. He needed to explain himself, properly apologize for what he had done. He had to take this chance, even if it wasn't real so that Scott could at least finally live with himself- if he was even going to live at all.

"Jimmy-" Scott started, but was cut off with a choked gasp as pain suddenly flared in his arm, shooting all the way up to the top of his spine. It felt like there was something clawing inside him, trying to latch onto him and pull. He was suddenly gasping for breath, hands clutching at the sheets and at Jimmy’s hand.

"Scott? What's wrong, I'm here- Gem!" Jimmy called, standing up but still tightly holding Scott’s hand as he leaned over him with a worried expression. Scott was shaking now, trying to hold back whatever the hell it was clawing up towards his head. Tears sprung to his eyes as he gasped and shuddered, a death grip on Jimmy’s hand.

"I'm sorry," he managed to gasp through the pain. "Sorry" didn't even begin to cover it, there was so much more that Scott wanted to say- but the whatever it was suddenly latched onto Scott’s mind, like claws digging into his skull and forcefully pulled. His body seized one last time with a cry before going limp, his hand loosening his hold on Jimmy’s as well, and his eyes fluttered shut.

And then Scott saw nothing but red.

Taglists below! Ask to be added or removed!

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#empires smp #scott smajor #jimmy solidarity #geminitay #flower husbands #mcyt #aiahs #sage writes

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minty-mumbles · 3 years ago

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Delirium

Summary: Wild gets sick, and Time and Twilight have to deal with his fevered delusions. No one has a good time.

Author's Note: My first Linked Universe fanfiction! Wooo! (Read it on Ao3 Here)

Content Warning: Hiding injuries which results in sickness, Sickness, Delirium/Hallucinations

~~~

This entire situation started only two short days ago. When they went to sleep that night, nothing had seemed amiss. Wild had seemed perfectly fine, if a bit tired. He had made a nice stew for dinner, nothing too complicated, and then crawled right into his bedroll, and was out like a light in less than five minutes. Time and Twilight had exchanged suspicious glances, but left it at that. It had been a very long day of traveling, and they had had a difficult fight that evening. Most of the group was tired. After all, Sky had similarly gone to bed immediately, and Wind looked like he wasn’t far behind.

Hyrule took the first shift on watch that night. Wind had the second shift, and Wild had the third. Thankfully, nothing happened throughout the first two watches. Wind was relieved when it was finally time for him to wake Wild, eager to go back to sleep.

However, when Wind tried to nudge him awake, his fellow hero had refused to budge. After a few more minutes of poking, which quickly escalated to shoving, Wind only had a few groans to show for it, his fellow hero’s eyes remaining shut tight.

This was highly unusual. Wild wasn’t the lightest sleeper- that title went to Legend, without a doubt- but he was always easy to wake. If it had been Sky, Wind wouldn’t have thought much about it.

As it was, Wind shot a concerned look at the lump of blankets Wild had become, and then scampered over to Hyrule’s bedroll.

By the time the rest of the group woke in the morning, Hyrule had woken Time and Twilight, after he had discovered the cook’s high fever, caused by an infected wound he hadn’t told anyone about. It was quickly decided that the group couldn’t travel safely with a sick member, and the group would be staying put until Wild felt better.

Four set about making breakfast, which was an uninspiring meal of simple roasted salmon. It was better than most others could do though, so no one dared complain, lest they be stuck with Hyrule’s cooking for lunch.

Their plan to stay put was ruined when a portal opened in the middle of the campsite after breakfast. After much groaning, they carefully packed the cook’s belongings, and distributed the packs amongst themselves so no one would be stuck with twice the weight to carry for the day. Twilight, as the strongest, was the one assigned to carry their sick companion.

Fortunately, they needn't have worried about a long trek awaiting them on the other side of the portal. It seemed that Hylia finally deemed it time to give them a boon of good luck, and they had been deposited nearly on the front doorstep of Lon Lon Ranch.

Some of the group smiled, relieved at this reprieve. Others- namely Legend and Time- shared a wary glance. If the goddess thought the situation bad enough to deposit them directly on the rancher's doorstep, this likely would not be a pleasant few days.

They had quickly set Wild up in one of the spare rooms. Malon had made some delicious cucco noodle soup, and the group had set about helping with farm work while waiting for Wild’s fever to break. They took turns watching the young man, as Hyrule was wary about leaving him alone with such a high fever.

The Champion had woken several times. Once on the first day after supper, on Legend’s watch, and twice again that night, once on Hyrule’s watch, and once on Time’s. It was always the same when he woke. He looked around in a daze, not quite processing the world around him. Those watching over him were able to get him to eat small amounts of bread and drink a little of the soup’s broth, but didn’t manage to provoke a reaction out of him. There was little improvement in his condition.

The second morning was when the group really started to worry. Wild’s fever still had not broken, and it had been over a day now. When he woke right after breakfast, he had moved past dazed and right into delirious territory. He was crying out for Zelda, and other names that none of them recognized. He struggled against Wind, who had been the one on watch at the time. Eventually Wind had given up trying to get him to lay down. Even with Wild as weakened with his fever as he was, Wind was unable to overpower the older boy, and had called for Time and Malon.

Time managed to hold Wild down enough to get him to drink some water, although he nearly had to pin the younger man down to do so, eliciting some more screams from him. It certainly seemed that his delirium wasn’t going away anytime soon. Meanwhile, Malon started to set up a cot in the main room of the house. It would be more convenient to have Wild on the lower level of the house, so they didn’t have to carry water and food up the stairs. That way, she could keep an eye on him while making meals, giving the boys a break from watch duty.

Warriors had ushered most of the others out of the house when the screaming had started, claiming that ‘they had better things to do than sit around and listen to their comrade’s pain.’ No one argued, the young sailor in particular looking very pale at the screeches from upstairs. Warriors couldn’t blame him. It sounded like Time was pulling the Champion’s teeth out.

Twilight alone had remained behind, twitching agitatedly by the cries of his protege. Warriors shared one last understanding look with the man, then shut the door, cutting off the cries from the group outside. The group of six slowly shuffled off to the barn to get started on feeding the animals. It was a peaceful morning. The cuccos seemed to be in a less murderous mood than usual, and the sun was shining, burning away the night’s dew. It was quite tranquil.

Inside the house, a much less peaceful scene plays out.

“No, no, no, no!" Time gripped Wild as tight as he could without hurting him as he lifted the champion into the air. The feverish man limply struggled against Time’s grip with all his might, which at the moment, was not much.

Twilight stood nearby, ready to assist Time if need be. He ran a washcloth over his cub’s forehead one last time before they began the trek down the stairs.

"It's okay, Wild. You’re okay," he uttered soft reassurances. Honestly, the soothing words might as well be for himself, for all the good they did for the one held in Time’s arms.

"Don't- don't!" Wild sucked in a shuddering gasp. "Don't put me back in there." Gritting his teeth, Time made his way into the hallway, ignoring the nonsensical cries of the boy in his arms. Giving into his pleas wouldn’t get them anywhere, and they would just need to do this later. “Please, please! l'll do anything!"

As they reached the top of the stairs, Wild seemed to get a sudden burst of strength, struggling much harder against the elder heroes. “I’m sorry! I’m not that hurt, don't put me in there, not again!"

Time sighed, grimacing and adjusting his grip slightly. "You aren't going anywhere except the living room, Wild." In response, Wild let out a wail and reached over Time’s shoulder as far as he could; his eyes were fixed on Twilight, but he could tell Wild wasn’t truly seeing him, and he reached for someone or something that wasn’t truly there.

"Time!”

TIme grimaced harder. Was this what having children was like? Caring for them, and inevitably getting your heart ripped out when you see them in pain? Trying your best, yet not being able to help, despite being right beside them? Goddess, if it was, he wasn’t sure he was ready for children. "I’m right here, Wild-"

They finally reached the bottom of the steps, and Twilight stopped to wipe at his face again. This time, the cloth was scrubbing away tears as well as sweat. "Shh, cub-”

“TWILIGHT!” Wild’s voice had reached a high fever pitch. It wouldn’t surprise Time if even the group outside could hear him, he was screeching so loud. Twilight made a wounded sound, then grit his teeth, doing his level best to ignore the cries of the younger hero.

Time maneuvered himself and his passenger to the cot set up in the corner of the main room. He carefully settled himself onto it, not daring to let the younger hero go. With all the strength his thrashing had suddenly gained, Wild would probably throw himself off the cot if he was set down now.

Through the screaming and the sobbing and the struggling, Time did his best to hum any song that came to mind in a desperate attempt to soothe the distressed boy. He eventually settled on a quiet Song of Healing.

Finally, after what felt like forever, Wild drooped. His head landed against Time's chest, eyes staring at the ceiling, yet seeing nothing. His body shook with exhausted sobs. He was coughing and gasping, but he wasn't squirming anymore.

It wasn’t much, but it was a step.

“Please,” Wild rasped, his voice worn from the screaming he had been doing, “Don’t put me back in the shrine.” The words and pleads from only a few moments ago abruptly clicked into place in the two’s minds.

The Shrine.

Goddess, they were stupid. They weren’t sure what the exact circumstances were leading up to him being put into the shrine, but he may very well have still been conscious. Confused and fever-addled as he was, it would have been easy for his brain to draw false conclusions about where or even when he was.

“We won’t,” Time whispered, “We won’t.”

#mint’s writing #linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu wild #lu twilight #lu time #lu wind #lu hyrule #lu warriors #lu wild angst #wild angst #sickness #injury #hiding an injury #hallucinations #delirium #lu fanfiction

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willowbird · 3 years ago

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hi! im a sucker for mutual pining so can i ask for roommates!au+ childhood friends + “you know i’ll do anything for you.” for pynch? 💛

You sure can lovely, you know I'll do anything for you 😉 (see what I did there?)

I also decided to make this a sick fic because I can. Hope you enjoy!

Ronan Lynch woke up feeling like death warmed over. Now this wasn't an altogether unfamiliar sensation, but it usually followed a night of heavy drinking and too many tacos sourced from questionable food trucks. Last night Ronan had been fucking responsible, thank you. He could have gone out and gotten trashed with some not-quite-friends he knew from around town. Instead, he had specifically stayed home and not gotten shit-faced because he had important shit to do today.

See, responsible. He could do it. Fuck you, Declan.

With an enthusiastic groan of anguish, Ronan rolled over and made to push himself up into a sitting position. His hand slipped off the edge of the bed in the attempt, however, and two seconds later he was in a heap on the floor with absolutely no energy nor motivation to try again.

At least, not until he heard a light knock on the door followed by a familiar voice calling, "Ronan? You alright in there?"

"Fuck," he grumbled to himself - except his face was trapped between his arm and the floor, so it came out more like 'frushk'.

The door creaked open and Ronan managed to summon the energy to lift his arm just enough to see Adam's bare feet peak into the room. How had he never noticed how elegant Adam's ankles were? The man could be a dancer if he wanted to, Ronan was sure of it - not that he knew anything about dancing or what dancers bodies should look like. Adam was wearing his pajama pants still, which was odd because Adam was always up way before Ronan and was usually fully dressed by the time Ronan dragged his ass out of bed - which he only ever did when the time was still in single-digits if he had absolutely no other choice (or if Adam was making breakfast... so... almost every day, but then he went back to bed). It was a shame, though, because Adam's calves were elegant, too. One wouldn't think men's calves could be pretty, but Adam's were. They fit the line of his legs like calligraphy, gently curving while holding all of this strength. That was to say nothing for his thighs. Ronan would happily be crushed by Adam's thighs.

"Um..." said Adam, and Ronan realized that he'd grabbed the hem of Adam's pant leg and was lifting it up, his body attempting to listen to his (likely fever-induced) inner ramblings and desire to see more of Adam's (perfect) legs.

With no energy to explain or defend himself, Ronan grunted and just let his hand drop back to the floor. A moment later he felt the air shift around him and when he realized he'd closed his eyes he forcibly peeled them open again to see that Adam had crouched down beside him.

Ah fuck, look at that bedhead. This was unfair. Ronan should get to see Adam's cute bedhead every day. But no, Adam had to be one of those people who got up at the asscrack of fucking dawn. He had to be one of those jerks who owned a comb. Despicable.

Adam caught his hand, the wayward limb having lifted to reach for aforementioned cute bedhead against Ronan's will.

"Alright, come on now Lynch, let's get you back in bed." Adam's voice was soft and very close now, which was funny because Adam was supposed to be far away. Adam was always too far away. Except this next time when Ronan opened his eyes he realized that Adam wasn't far away at all, he was right there, with his arm around Ronan, helping him sit up.

"When'd you get buff, Parrish?" Ronan grumbled as Adam all but deadlifted him from the floor to get him back on the bed.

Adam's quiet chuckle brushed against the side of Ronan's neck like a kiss. "What, did you think me going to the gym four days a week was for show? Gotta be able to lug your ass around."

"You calling me fat?"

"Yes."

"Bitch."

This time, Adam's laugh was a bit more full but it stayed quiet, like Adam knew about the angry cotton that had taken over the inside of Ronan's skull and didn't want to antagonize it.

Ronan was horizontal the next time he opened his eyes and Adam was woefully far away. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, adjusting the covers, which really wasn't all that far, but look -- it was too far. His hands were eager to obey his inner ramblings apparently, because without Ronan's say-so they had lifted again, reaching for Adam.

Adam caught them easily in his own and squeezed. "I hope you didn't have any big plans today, Lynch. You've definitely got a fever."

"No I don't," Ronan protested, half-distracted by how nicely his and Adam's hands fit together. He'd almost forgotten that, how good it felt to hold Adam's hand. They used to hold hands all the time when they were kids -- because that's what kids did. He remembered always reaching for Adam's hand. Sometimes to pull him up when he fell down, sometimes to grab him to go play, sometimes just because it felt... good to do it. They've been best friends since the summer before kindergarten, them and Gansey and Noah. But it was always Adam's hand Ronan wanted to hold.

But boys don't hold other boys' hands once you reach a certain age. Which, actually, was utter and complete bullshit and Ronan was going to do something about that as soon as he was able to get vertical again. He didn't know what, but he would come up with something, dammit.

"--nan? Ronan? Hey, you still with me?"

Ronan blinked away some cobwebs and focused back up at Adam's face, which was drawn together in concern. "The fuck you talking about Parrish," he rasped out. "I didn't go anywhere."

One of those strong, elegant hands dropped his - but before Ronan could mourn the loss it reached forward to press gently to his forehead, then to his cheek. "Maybe I should take you to the doctor," Adam said through a frown.

"'m fine," Ronan growled out with attempted authority. Adam only stared at him and Ronan rolled his eyes. "It's just... just a stupid cold or something."

Adam was already shaking his head. It took all of Ronan's willpower not to whine when he pulled his hand away, but he managed.

"What're you doing?" he grumbled suspiciously as Adam produced his phone from the pocket of his sweatshirt.

"Texting my boss."

The shock of confusion that lanced through him at that was sharp enough to kickstart his brain and wake him up a little bit. "What? Why?"

Adam gave him another look, and damnit if the man didn't look like a sexy, disapproving librarian - even without the glasses. "Ronan, you're sick. If that fever gets any higher you really will have to go to the doctor."

"So?" Something was not computing. Why should Ronan's stupid body being stupid sick have anything to do with Adam texting his boss? Did Adam's boss know something about fevers?

"So I'm not leaving you by yourself all day."

"You're asking your boss to hire a fucking babysitter?"

"No you ass, I'm calling off for the day."

Ronan blinked. He closed his eyes, counted to three, then opened them again - but Adam was still there. He was looking down at his phone, swiping across it as a message came in. Then he gave a nod and looked back at Ronan. "And it's done."

"Wait. What?"

Adam's expression clouded with worry again, lips pursing and brow drawing in. "Ronan, I just told you..."

"Shit. Fuck. Yeah, I got that. Wait. You're calling in?" Adam Parrish had never called off of work a day in his life. Ronan would know - since he'd been a part of it for about twenty years now. Three weeks after they'd moved in together, Adam had come down with strep throat and had still tried to go into work. His boss had ended up calling Ronan to come haul his ass out of there since Ronan was listed as his emergency contact.

"I'm going to call the doctor..."

Ronan cut him off with a wave of his hand. "I'm not a fucking amnesiac, Parrish. Why the fuck would you call off work for my sorry ass?"

Adam gave him a look, then, and it was a look that had the rest of Ronan's confused protest dying before it even reached the tip of his tongue. When Adam spoke, his voice was softer and his hands - his hands - had abandoned the phone and had returned to take both of Ronan's.

"C'mon, Ro," he said in that quiet, steady voice, "you know I'll do anything for you. Don't you?"

Ronan's throat constricted and his hands curled into fists, except Adam's hands were already tangled in them so he only ended up gripping those hands tighter. It took a moment for him to process that, his brain addled by fever and distracted by confusion.

When the words and the tone and the look in those blue of blue of blue eyes finally clicked, Ronan swallowed hard. Then he opened his mouth, maybe to say 'no I don't' or 'do you mean that the same way I do?' or 'if you fucking no-homo me on this shit Parrish I will kick your ass'. Instead, he rasped out a dazed, "What the fuck time is it?"

Adam blinked, then gave a tired grin and shook his head. "A little after five."

"...AM? Five in the fucking morning? Jesus Christ."

"Don't blame me on this one, Lynch. You're the one who threw yourself out of bed before I even had a chance to shower."

Ronan snorted, then looked up at the other man through bleary eyes, considering his options here. After a long moment of deliberation (that honestly might not have been that long, considering how wobbly his interpretation of time was this morning), Ronan laboriously shifted his body over on the bed so that he was tucked more against the wall. He then patted the newly empty space beside him. "C'mon."

Adam looked at him, then the bed, then at him. "What?"

"Should I call the doctor?" Ronan mocked, then rolled his eyes. "Come on. You don't have to work, and you're up to early. This way you can make sure I don't die in my sleep."

"Not funny, Lynch," Adam warned - but he also set his phone on the bedside table and crawled onto the bed, letting Ronan hold the covers up for him so he could sink into the warmth. Their apartment was too drafty for Adam's bird blood to put up with that sleeping on top of the covers shit. Besides, they'd had how many sleepovers growing up? Sharing a bed was nothing new to them.

The flutter in Ronan's chest when Adam met his eyes, that wasn't all that new either.

"Go back to sleep, Ro. I'm right here."

Ronan sighed, but being given that permission to say 'fuck it' to the rest of the day and just sleep off the haze of sickness clinging to the backs of his eyelids and slinking down his spine was enough to sap the rest of his energy. He closed his eyes, sleep already tugging at him. Later, he wouldn't remember whether or not the soft press of chapped lips to his forehead was real or a dream.

Fun little prompt thingies

#asks #of stars and moon #ficlet prompts #trc fanfic #pynch #ronan lynch #adam parrish #sick fic #childhood friends #roommates fic #also they share a bed #and there's a forehead kiss #pining #lots of pining

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matthewbaudelaire · 2 years ago

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Matthew was reeling, it felt like he was running while sitting still and he didn’t know what to do with the now suddenly overwhelming nervous energy building up inside of him as Roman continued to speak and then produced his phone to show him a picture of the kid. Matthew wanted to look and didn’t at the same time but felt himself moving, leaning closer to the device to peer his eyes toward the screen, seeing what looked like an image of himself at that age and it made him blink once more, brows deeply furrowed, perplexed and full of a rising anxiety. Another kid. It felt surreal. None of this felt real, not even the mug of hot coffee he held between his palms, not the booth he sat in, not the man across the table, not the picture on the screen, all of it felt like some kind of fever dream, too real and yet not at all so where did that leave him, somewhere in the middle between two diverging realities and not knowing which one to focus on.

Another son. His brain immediately jumped from one thing to the next, giving him mental whiplash as he imagined this new kid getting all the love and attention and adoration from a man that he had wanted for himself when he was younger, when he needed it but didn’t receive it because the man that was meant to be his father had always been away on one mission or the next and when he had come back from the war, he’d hardly come back at all, his brain so addled from the trauma of what he’d seen that he’d buried himself in alcohol until he became a stranger and then left entirely. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair, his brain raced, his heart trembled, his breathing quickened, why did he get a second chance when he didn’t deserve it. It wasn’t fair. Where was his silver lining? Where was his redemption arc? Why couldn’t he revert back to being a kid at that age and do life over again? Would it even make a difference?

He felt sick. Anxiety gripped him by the throat and soured his gut, spewing acid into the back of his mouth. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair to be jealous of a young boy, it’s not like he had a choice in the matter, it wasn’t fair to blame him for the faults of his father… their father. The thought made Matthew grimace and he swallowed against the acid that stung the back of his throat, finding no relief from it. He swallowed again, willed his shoulders to shrug, to respond in any way, feeling like a machine being told what processes it needed to run with the press of a button, mechanical in his reply, stiff and disjointed, “Yeah, I dunno,” his voice was low, a mumble, he rubbed his fingers against the coarse stubble of his jaw just to feel something pricking against his hand and remind himself he was still here, he was still whole, that all the broken pieces of himself hadn’t floated away into the ether, “I gotta… check my schedule.”

The fact Matthew could hardly stand the sight of him, pained Roman. Roman truly wanted to build a relationship with his eldest, but it seemed like a far fetched dream lately. However, he would keep putting in effort in hopes Matthew might forgive him one day and allow him to be an active participant in his life. When Matthew’s eyes finally glanced up towards him, he let out a sigh. “Yes, you have another brother.” The older Baudelaire waited a little bit to give Matthew some time to process everything he just revealed. “I know it is a lot to process and take in,” he commented, trying to acknowledge the situation and let Matthew know his feelings were valid.

After a few minutes of silence between the two, he cleared his throat as he pulled out his phone to show a picture of the twelve year old. “This is him, I haven’t met him yet but I plan to meet him soon,” he told his son as he slid the phone across the table to his eldest. “I don’t know what to say, I don’t even know if you and your siblings even want to be active in his life. I spoke with his mother and she is willing to work with our family on getting to know Lucas. I hope you, your sister and brother might want to get to know him, but you three are adults and have your own lives going on. So, I dunno.”

#werewolfroman #para: roman #anxiety tw #anxiety attack tw #mental health tw #war mention tw #ptsd mention tw #alcoholism mention tw

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pink-flame · 4 years ago

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For the Trope ask, 14 and 27 with Juke, then 19 and 72 with a ship of your choice

I’ll get to the second half of this soon. But for now part 2 of Bodyguard AU Juke!

Read part one here.

Bodyguard AU + Sick/Injured fic

Julie Molina was not sick.

Ok, maybe she had been dragging for days and her brain had gone slightly fuzzy and she was pretty sure she had a temperature.

But she wasn’t sick. She couldn’t be. Not when her first ever national tour started in less than a month and her second album had just been released. She had radio appearances and tv interviews and stage rehearsals and a million other things she had to do that week.

So she couldn’t be sick.

Unfortunately her body didn’t seem to get that memo.

“Hey, are you ok?”

Julie turned her head sluggishly toward Luke who was frowning over at her from the back of the car they were being driven towards her next interview in.

She shook her head then realized that was the opposite of what she meant to do. She stopped mid-shake and switched over to a nod.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” She told him, the slight croak to her voice doing little to help her credibility.

Luke’s frown deepened and his eyes narrowed as he examined her from across the car.

Alex turned to look back from the front seat.

“You are looking kind of like a ghost, Jules,” He observed. “You’re paler than me.”

“I said I’m fine,” Julie insisted even as she shivered involuntarily. “Can we just go over the schedule for today again?”

“Oh look at that,” Alex said, typing furiously on his phone. “It just cleared up.”

“Alex…” Julie whined.

“You should listen to him, Julie,” Luke broke in. “You’re not helping anyone by passing out on live tv.”

Julie crossed her arms and let out an indignant huff. She could feel her lips pursing like an annoyed toddler. She couldn’t help it. Being sick always reverted her back to her younger days and left her feeling pouty and clingy.

Not that she was sick.

Only her head was killing her and her nose was kind of stuffy and she was so tired.

“Maybe…” Her voice cracked and she studiously ignored the look Alex and Luke exchanged at the sound. “Maybe I could take one day off.”

“I’m glad you’ve seen reason,” Alex said. “Not that you had a choice but still.”

Julie sighed, deciding she didn’t have the energy to engage with her best friend at that moment. She sank back into the leather of the seat, closing her eyes and trying to ignore the throbbing in her head. She would just rest her eyes and by the time they got back to her place maybe she would feel up to doing some work remotely. She could tweak the lyrics for that Spotify exclusive she had promised for next week and maybe even call into a couple of radio shows she had been booked on. She would convince Alex that was a good idea. She just needed to rest for a few minutes first.

At least that had been the plan.

Instead she found herself being shaken awake to the sight of Luke’s face hovering over hers.

“Jules? We’re here.”

Had he ever used that nickname for her before? She didn’t think so. She decided to blame her apparent illness for the sudden fluttering in her chest at the sound of the word tumbling casually from her bodyguard’s lips.

“Alex,” She mumbled, still half out of it. “Maybe I can do a couple of my interviews on the phone…”

“Go to bed,” He interrupted. “Seriously. I’ve got this.”

Julie wanted to protest but her brain was moving a little too slow and Luke was already pulling her out of the car, those absurdly defined muscles being put to work, and she lost her train of thought.

“I can walk,” She grumbled as he led her into her building and over to the elevator, one arm wrapped firmly around her waist.

“I know,” He said in an annoyingly agreeable voice. “So can I and right now we’re walking together.”

Julie rolled her eyes but let herself be hustled into the elevator. Luke scanned his key card to authorize it to take them to the top floor.

“Who gave you a key to my building?” Julie asked as she leaned against the wall and let her tired eyes slide shut.

“That would be you,” Luke answered, his amusement clear even though she didn’t open her eyes to check his expression.

“What an idiot,” She mumbled.

Her head was now not only throbbing but had suddenly started to feel too heavy to keep upright.

She felt Luke lean against the wall next to her and gave into the urge to lean over and rest her head on his shoulder. Or she would have if he hadn’t been quite a bit taller than her. As it was her head landed awkwardly somewhere towards the middle of his arm.

She sighed and decided it was too much trouble to try again.

He didn’t comment on her behavior, only leaned a little closer to her so she had less of a stretch.

It felt like only a second later that she heard the familiar ding that let her know they had reached her floor.

“Come on,” Luke said, raising her gently off of his arm so he could wrap it around her waist again and steer her towards her front door. He swiped his key again and pushed the door open, half dragging her inside and straight to her bedroom. She briefly had the wherewithal to wonder if she had left anything embarrassing out in plain sight but quickly gave up as she sank onto the edge of her bed.

“Thanks,” She mumbled. “I’m good now.”

He ignored her statement which was clearly intended to dismiss him. He crouched down in front of her and reached up to place the back of his hand against her forehead. Julie shivered, unsure if it was her fever or his proximity that caused her reaction.

She decided the fuzzy feeling in her head was excuse enough to let herself examine his face up close. She hadn’t been this close to him since they were pressed up against each other while hiding in her closet. It wasn’t a good memory exactly, she remembered how scared she had been in the moment, how violated she had felt later when she let it sink in that someone had invaded her home. But she also remembered his hand clutched in hers, soft palms and calloused fingertips confirming her suspicion that he was a musician in his spare time. She remembered his eyes, impossibly big as they searched hers for signs of panic. She remembered his messy hair and how badly she had wanted to run her fingers through it even during a terrifying situation.

And she remembered how he had refused to leave her that night, insisting that he sleep on her couch, just in case. She had gotten up that night, telling herself she needed a glass of water but knowing deep down she just wanted a glimpse of his sleeping face.

It was a good face.

His lips quirked up slightly.

“Thanks,” He said as he dropped his hand from her forehead.

“For what?”

She scrunched up her face in confusion.

“You just said I had a good face.”

Julie would have reacted more to that if she had the energy. As it was all she could do was groan slightly at the knowledge that she managed to say something she didn’t mean to in front of him again.

“Don’t worry, I know you don’t know what you’re saying,” He assured her. “You’re burning up, Boss.”

“I think I’d better lie down,” She mumbled.

He nodded and stood.

“Do you have some...where can I get you something to sleep in?” He asked.

“You don’t have to,” She tried to dismiss but he just stared at her expectantly. “Middle drawer.”

He crossed the room quickly and opened the door in question, grabbing an old baggy shirt and a pair of sleep shorts, bringing them back to her quickly.

“Thanks,” She said again.

“I’ll just…” He jerked his thumb towards the doorway indicating he would leave the room so she could change.

She nodded and started pulling her top off without hesitation. His eyes widened and he spun to leave the room quickly. Ok, she knew there were perfectly good reasons why she should have made sure he was turned around before she did that but she couldn’t latch on to them at that moment. She just wanted to be horizontal as soon as humanly possible. She had just managed to change and slide under her comforter when she heard the door to her condo click shut.

She tried to ignore the sinking in her chest at the sound.

Of course there was no reason for him to stay. He was her bodyguard not her babysitter and certainly not her boyfriend. Sure, she could admit to herself that she had been nursing a little crush on him for months and there had been times she was sure he was flirting with her. But then she reminded herself that was just how he was, chemistry with literally everyone. It didn’t mean anything to him.

So it couldn’t mean anything to her.

Julie sighed and sank deeper into her pillow. She wasn’t sure if she actually slept or if she just drifted in and out of feverish confusion but the next thing she was fully aware of was Luke once again crouching in front of her.

She wasn’t sure if he was real or not and somehow in her fever addled mind that seemed like a good reason to reach out and touch his face.

His eyes softened affectionately when her fingers brushed his cheek and she wasn’t sure if that was evidence that he was real or a fantasy.

“Hey, Boss,” He said softly.

“Hey,” She whispered. “You came back.”

He smiled and held up a plastic bag.

“Of course. I got Tylenol and tissues and some soup I can make you later.”

She felt a surge of treacherous joy at his words even as she struggled to hold on to enough logic and propriety to let him off the hook.

“You don’t have to stay,” She told him, pulling her hand back to her side. “This isn’t part of your job description.”

He chuckled and she wanted to demand he tell her what was so funny but she was distracted by the way he reached out to run his hand over the top of her head.

“Go to sleep, Jules.”

Her brain seemed to take his words as a command, her eyes fluttering shut. Unfortunately only a few seconds passed before a shrill ringing was causing them to shoot open again.

“Don’t answer it,” Luke tried even as she was reaching for her phone which sat on her nightstand.

“Hello?” She muttered, holding it up to her ear weakly.

“Julie? Are you ok?”

She frowned as the familiar voice of her big brother washed over her.

“Reggie? How did you even know I was sick?” She asked.

“Alex called me,” He said as though it should be obvious. “Look, I’m getting in the car right now. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“What? No. That’s like a 6 hour drive,” She croaked out. “There’s no reason for you to come all the way from San Francisco.”

“The flu isn’t something to mess around with, Julie,” He insisted. “You shouldn’t be alone and Alex is working.”

Julie’s head was spinning and even the weight of her phone seemed to be too much for her in her current weakened state.

“I’m not alone,” She mumbled.

“What? Who’s there?” Reggie demanded.

“Just talk to Luke,” She instructed.

She just had time to hear Reggie ask semi-frantically who exactly Luke was before she was shoving the phone into her bodyguard’s hands. He looked slightly panicked but to his credit he took the phone and raised it to his ear.

Julie had intended to eavesdrop on their conversation but in the end she sank into a fitful slumber before she could hear a thing.

The next time she woke up she didn’t feel any better. If anything she felt even worse. Luke was there though. He brought her more pain medicine and walked her to the bathroom to make sure she didn’t fall. He made her soup and hot tea. And when she started to droop again he tucked her back into bed.

“Goodnight, Boss.”

He was still there when she woke up the next day.

She had a text message from Alex saying he had rescheduled her commitments for that day too and she still felt too miserable to fight him on it. Apparently Luke had gone back to his place at some point while she slept because he was wearing fresh clothes when she emerged from her room.

She felt slightly better by lunch, managing to sit up and join Luke on the couch to watch some tv. She discovered he loved the trashy reality shows that drove her crazy and she adored the cooking shows he called criminally boring. They both loved 90’s sitcoms though. At one point he grabbed her acoustic guitar and started playing her a song she had never heard before.

Dreaming like we’ll live forever

But living like it’s now or never

Julie managed a tired smirk.

“Is this your way of telling me I’m dying?” She asked teasingly.

“Not on my watch,” He said firmly before shooting her one of those troublesome grins she would always associate with him. “And that is part of my job description.”

Right. Because he was her employee. Only...surely employees didn’t just hang around for two days to keep their boss company while she was sick...did they?

The next day Julie was starting to feel more human. She insisted that Luke go home. It had taken some convincing but finally he had agreed, insisting that she call him if she needed anything.

Julie spent two more days recovering alone in her apartment, most of her symptoms having abated but a deep sense of exhaustion taking a little longer to leave her. She called Reggie back and ignored his pointed questions about why a bodyguard was so dedicated to her well-being when it wasn’t life threatening and was she sure there wasn’t something she wanted to tell him?

Brothers.

Alex wasn’t much better, texting her every five minutes not with work updates but asking if she had spoken to Luke. Of course she hadn’t. He was her bodyguard not her boyfriend and if some small part of her was disappointed that he hadn’t called to check on her she wasn’t about to say that out loud.

She was feeling back to herself and prepared to return to her hectic life the next day when she got one more message from Alex that had her nearly dropping her phone.

Just a heads up, I found out why lover boy hasn’t called. He caught your flu.

Julie felt a lot of things as she read Alex’s text.

She felt guilty.

She felt worried.

She felt an overwhelming urge to make sure he was ok.

She knew she could accomplish that by shooting off a quick text. If she really wanted to go the extra mile as a boss she could call. That would be normal. That would be appropriate.

But hadn’t they passed that a long time ago?

So that’s how she found herself outside of his apartment, knocking nervously on his door.

At first no one answered but just as she was debating knocking again the door swung open to reveal a pale Luke, his slightly sweaty face scrunching up adorably in confusion.

“Julie? What are you doing here?” He asked, his voice a familiar croak.

“You caught my flu,” She said simply as though that should explain everything.

He managed a smile even if it was slightly pained.

“So you what...came to apologize?”

“No, I…” She held up the bag she gripped in her hand. “I brought Tylenol and tissues and some soup I could make later. If you want.”

His eyebrows raised sluggishly in surprise.

“You’re going to take care of me?” He asked, that soft look back in his eyes.

“I can’t have you dying on me,” She shrugged with a small smile. “Who else would protect me from the over zealous tweens on tour?”

He chuckled before cutting himself off with a cough.

“That’s sweetly pragmatic of you,” He said. “How did you even know where I live?”

“Um, I had Alex pull your personal file,” She admitted.

“Wow, pretty sure that’s an HR violation,” He joked.

“Uh, yeah. Sorry about that. So...can I come in?” She asked only slightly nervously.

In the end she shouldn’t have worried.

He only grinned tiredly and stepped aside to let her pass.

“Come on in, Boss.”

And so she stepped over the threshold thinking about how if this was a song she was writing that would be a metaphor for the start of something.

But that was a song to write another day.

Tag request: @only-trust-fictional-characters

#answered ask #trope prompt game #juke #jatp #fanfiction #my fics

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nicambi · 4 years ago

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38 for your detective and nate :)

bless your heart and thank you for the suggestion 🥺🥺🥺

this prompt is the perfect set up for cliche goodness so im sorry that my brain said “what if this was just as domestic as you could possibly stand?” and ran in that direction instead LOL. hope you enjoy it all the same!~

also yes I know hailey’s is a bakery but like. it sounds more like a cafe so I’m treating it like a cafe shhshdhdhdjdj

+++++++

Mini-fic based on “38. things you said when I was (you were) sick” Pairing: Nate Sewell/F!Detective (Phoebe Yule) Fandom: The Wayhaven Chronicles Rating: T for nearly nonexistent suggestive themes Word Count: 1,368 Spoilers?: Nope!

Nate could easily take the stairs two at a time to Phoebe’s apartment, considering his long legs and longer gait, but he doesn’t give in to the childish urge to hurry. After three hundred years and then some, he’d learned the art of patience, as well as decorum, things his younger counterparts hadn’t quite mastered but for which he couldn’t blame them. Moments like these, full of anticipation and a to-go container filled with chicken noodle soup in hand, he understood why they enjoyed the quick reward that came with the rush.

“It’s just a cold,” Phoebe says soothingly when she opens the door, but she’s smiling at him anyway as if she can’t help herself, no more than she can help the wheezy rattle of her voice. The smile is more of a smirk, a touch rakish, but the effect is interrupted by a harsh sneeze which sets off a coughing fit. He can’t seem to not enjoy the flush along her cheeks and her collarbone, the high color giving her away to fever more than a glowing sign of health, and the thought has him shaking himself of the thoughts that often plague him when she’s around.

“I know,” he answers, voice smooth like silk, “but rest is still important. And I thought you could use a pick-me-up.”

He holds the soup up to her for inspection, feeling in some small way like a petitioner giving tribute to his goddess of choice; that thought does pull the corners of his mouth even more, because the farfetched thought doesn’t feel too farfetched sometimes. Her smile widens, watery and relieved as she eyes the container hungrily, and she shuffles a little in the doorway before stepping back and offering for him to come in. Nate can’t help the skip his heart takes at the gesture, ducking just slightly to avoid brushing the top of his head along the molding as he passes inside.

“Did I tell you Hailey’s soup is my favorite and forget, or did you just take a lucky guess?” she asks, leading the way to her kitchenette across the bright interior, and he takes note of the drawn pink curtains and the tissues littering the general vicinity of the waste basket.

“Lucky guess, it would seem,” he replies, though they both know well that it was more like an educated one, “There’s also the fact that the bakery is the only place I’ve noticed we eat.”

We. Nate hears her breath catch, involuntarily done and involuntarily heard. Phoebe makes an amused and simultaneously offended sound as if to cover her happy response, but doesn’t deign to comment on his correctness with anything more than a widened smile and another cough. Nate blithely takes up a post against the table after handing off his bounty, shoving his hands in his pockets as he watches her. Despite his attempt to shut out her subconscious signals, his senses drink her in helplessly; he can hear her skipping heartbeat, her excitement at his presence electric over her sensitive skin, the way her tired hands shake slightly as she uncaps the container.

He’s behind her in a flash of movement, quick enough to already have his hands on hers before she musters a gasp. He knew already from the short time they’d spent together that Phoebe could be stubborn in the quiet way, never asking, unassuming, and Nate had little trouble catching on to her tells. His much larger hands settle softly over her delicate wrists, guiding the container from her grasp, and as if they both can’t seem to help it, her back is suddenly flush with his middle. Leave it to him to inadvertently heat up the moment; maybe he’d been more right earlier when he’d thought one of the few things separating him from his friends was decorum. He was sure if Farah was here, she’d be making a smirked quip about his hands-on bedside manner while Morgan snorted. He refrains from sighing aloud to not give Phoebe the wrong impression, considering his attention quickly being overtaken by her gaze.

Phoebe leans her head back, her much shorter stature allowing her to look at him upside down as her crown rests against his sternum. Her usually glossy red hair plumes against his chest smelling vaguely of roses and cough medicine, her hazel eyes have heavy bags under them from sleeplessness, the skin of her arms are covered in goosebumps, and yet - beautiful, is the only word that can seemingly come to mind. Where she would usually make some sort of flirtatious insinuation, there is nothing but energized quiet, perhaps half from her own exhaustion and half out of this rare, private silence. Nate smiles at her all the same, making a move to pull the microwave open over her head, effectively boxing her in as he fiddles with the buttons for a bit longer than one could call deft. He can almost sense more than see her biting her lip, can tell from her elongated quiet as the microwave finally whirs on what she might be thinking.

“Penny for your thoughts,” he banters, voice soft against the electronic purr and the beat of her heart.

“I’m only really thinking about you, at the moment,” she replies, with the same characteristic honesty she approached everything, the very same that always seemed to steal his breath away. She’s still looking back at him, the elegant curve of her neck inviting, teasing, as he knows she means it to be. Lucky him, that he can so easily take the bait these days.

He raises a hand and rests it gently across her throat, more caressing than possessing, and she sighs with fluttering lids as his thumb rubs a soft circle along her pulse point. Trust, affection, warmth, devotion - safety. There was no better aphrodisiac in the world than the way she fit just right against him. His other arm came up to wrap around her ample waist, and she leant back fully now, sighing contentedly as he hugs her from behind.

“I’m glad you’re here,” she murmurs, the last word nearly swallowed by an unexpected yawn, and Nate softens a great deal, brown eyes warming as he continues to hold her.

“Near nothing could keep me from you,” he answers, with as much feeling as he can dress the words in, “I know this will pass, but I admittedly liked the idea of coming to check on you...alone. Morgan asked if I wanted a ride, but I turned her down. I doubt she’d admit it, but I think she might have wanted to check on you, too.”

“I’m sure that can’t be it,” Phoebe shakes her head, but he can tell she’s tickled by the idea. For her confidence and friendliness, admissions that even the more obstinate of their team was worried about her, even in their own way, meant a great deal. He knew Phoebe’s candor rankled some, but Nate had always been a big fan of open books.

The beeping of the microwave pulls him out of his thoughts, and Nate drops his hand from her collar to pull the door open again, dexterously guiding the soup container down to the counter with little fanfare. She hums with anticipation, only sounding slightly hoarse, and slips from his grasp to pull a spoon - and then, with a second thought, two spoons - from a counter drawer, turning to face him with one of the spoons outstretched.

“It’s a good thing you guys can’t get sick, because otherwise I’d be way more hesitant about sharing, but you can’t not try Hailey’s chicken noodle. It just wouldn’t do,” she says with a smile, picking up the container to head to the couch. He thinks for all of three seconds about suggesting they simply put it in separate bowls, something he knows she’d probably think of herself if she wasn’t addled, or assuring her she should - and could - have all the soup to herself, but he wasn’t so buttoned up as to not take the offer of cuddling up with hot soup and good company for what it was. He trails close behind, skirting thoughts of honey-flavored cough drops and petal-colored lips.

#The Wayhaven Chronicles #n sewell #nate sewell #twc Detective #twc morgan #twc m #f hauville #phoebe #fic: phoebe #thanks again for the prompt!! <3 #asks

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agl03 · 5 years ago

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Hey!! So I’m quite new to the fandom and was wondering where the idea for a secret child came from? Thanks so much ☺️☺️

Hi Anon!

Welcome!

Me and my crazy theory addled brain are to blame for the Secret Child theory. I’m responsible for a few of the theories on here. Every season I usually wind up with one or two what I call my ride or die, swing for the fences, I’m going to look really good or really bad kind of theories.

Baby Fever has been running pretty high around some in the Fitzsimmons fandom since Season 3. I say some because I totally acknowledge there are some in the fandom who are very much not on the baby train and want me to just shut up already, and that is totally okay. I remember when the promo pics dropped for Season 4 there was an intense debate if 1. Jemma was hiding a wedding ring and 2. if she was hiding a baby bump not only from her promo pics but we’d gotten a ton of BTS pics that season and her stomach was always behind something. Oh the good old days when we got BTS stuff during filming, how I miss those days.

There was a pretty decent fever pitch in Season 5 between the wedding and the Deke reveal, math was being done to see try to see when his mother would have been conceived. Then after Jemma threw up when Deke was consoling her, even Elizabeth admitted she thought Jemma might be pregnant too. I certainly did.....until the finale....yeah nope Jemma was off to get her man no baby during this hiatus not with space adventures. For me I now throw that into the hint as to what coming like the engagement was in Season 4 with Robo Fitz telling Jemma he was going to propose and Fitz looking at THAT finger during their last heart to heart in 14 before he was kidnapped...and that paid off in 5.6.

Secret Child kicked in for me when I was watching the Season 6 finale and Jemma said “we had time” and “I can’t know” when asked where Fitz was. I actually fell off the couch. That was followed seconds later by my mini fan girl child howling “FITZSIMMONS HAD A BABY!!!! They had time! MOM! They had a baby!” as they walked around the Zephyr....she was still happy to see Robo Coulson instead of said baby, but is also very much on the secret child train as well.

Over the years my theory crazed brain loves to pick up on clues and something big like a mysterious amount of time, at an unknown location, and a married couple who finally freaking get to be together for more than 5 seconds without one of them getting kidnapped meant something big happened during that time and we’re not just talking about Robo Coulson and the upgraded Zephyr. There is something else big that they are hiding and holding onto for later in the season, something that would help justify not only some of Jemma’s sadness but Fitz’s absence from the rest of the team. After all if he was simply a kidnapping target wouldn’t he be safe with a few super heroes, two androids, one of which is his BFF, Melinda May, Mack and his Shotgun Ax, a very well meaning Grandson with lots of tech, and his wife is is dang sick of losing him. And my brain instantly latched onto a Secret Child and it became my Ride or Die theory of the season.

As time as progressed it began to make more sense to me. And it would certainly be a huge OMG kind of moment for the casual fan. It also made more sense that it was the kind of bomb they would save to drop when we least suspect it IE see the Wedding in Real Deal. The closing moments of Season 6 was just one huge thing after another and oh we had a kid would have just been one of many things the team and audience was trying to take in. Now they can leave breadcrumbs throughout Season 7 for eagle eyed fans to spot and it can be a surprise in its own right....likely when all sorts of stuff is hitting the fan right before a fade to black and my ask box implodes...but surprise none the less.

#aos spoilers #aos speculation #ask agl03 #ride or die secret child

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gigi-sinclair · 5 years ago

Text

Sins Not Tragedies (rated G, implied Jopson/Little, future Hartnell/Irving)

AKA “Haven’t you people ever heard of closing the goddamn door?”

For @theterrorbingo square “there’s nothing to be afraid of.” And it was supposed to also be for @zaphodbeeblebro, but it kind of got away from your prompt, so I’ll do another one for you later!

CW for period-typical attitudes. Title, naturally, from Panic! At the Disco

John Irving is not a fool.

He is no innocent, either, although he knows many people think it of him. He is familiar with the weaknesses of men. He even has sympathy for them. That is, after all, why he sought to rehabilitate Mr. Hickey and Mr. Gibson himself, rather than turn the matter over to the captain, as protocol demanded. His mercy was justified, it seems. Mr. Gibson has not complained of any further assaults, and it does not appear Hickey has turned his deviant attention elsewhere. Perhaps the flogging, unpleasant as it was, proved just the lesson he needed.

This, however, is something else. Rather, it is the same thing, but John cannot possibly react to it in the same way.

Hickey and Gibson are men of the lower ranks, of the lower classes. As is Jopson, for all his extreme familiarity with the captain. In everything, they require a guiding hand, a patient teacher. They cannot be expected to have the capacity to withstand temptation—and John can acknowledge its lure is all the stronger after so long here in the ice—without the help of their moral superiors.

Lieutenant Little should require no such assistance. The man is a first lieutenant. Soon to be a commander, if the Admiralty hasn't already decreed it. There is no excuse for what John glimpses as he passes the storeroom late one night.

The ship is all but abandoned now. For some reason, all three lieutenants—Little, Hodgson, and John himself—remain on Terror, even though only Lieutenant Le Vesconte and Captain Fitzjames are left on Erebus, but the crew is scant. They have suspended the formal system of watches. Still, the creature is out there, and they must remain on their guard. John comes down from the deck after spending long hours of staring at the ice, alert for the creature from Hell. He should go directly to bed, but he needs a cup of tea to warm him up. He heads for the galley, passing on his way the captain's pantry.

This little room, Mr. Jopson's territory, is usually sealed off from everybody else. Today, the door is ajar. Curious, John approaches, with a mind to shut it if there is nobody within. Instead, he sees what he immediately wishes he had not.

The room is dimly lit by a single candle. It is enough for John to make out the figures of Jopson and Little standing face-to-face, much more closely together than even the small pantry necessitates. Edward's arms are around Jopson's waist, while Jopson's hands rest on Edward's shoulders.

There is nothing inherently scandalous about their placement but, again, John is not a fool. Edward's position is not to prevent Jopson from slipping down the perpetually slanted floor. Jopson, while an attentive steward, is not brushing lint from the lieutenant's lapels. This position speaks loudly and clearly of illicit intimacy, and John at once feels unwell.

Abandoning the idea of tea, John retreats to his bunk.

He has to inform the captain, but, at the moment, Edward himself is captain, and, until now, doing a fine job of it. In all the years they've known each other, Edward has never struck John as weak, or as at all lacking in character or morals. If anything, he is one of the most upstanding officers John has ever met. He is the last person John would have expected to fall prey to such deviant desires. If someone like Edward can fall, John thinks, twisting his hands anxiously, then what hope does anyone else have of resisting?

John sleeps very poorly. In the morning, while he is hungry, he cannot bring himself to go to the wardroom for breakfast. He does not know how he is meant to face Edward or Jopson, how he is meant to make polite conversation with them knowing what he knows. Instead, he buries himself in that which he has always found most comforting: his Bible. It helps little. His mind, quite unbidden, keeps returning to what he saw, and, more salacious yet, that which he did not see, but which was implied.

When a knock comes on the door, John starts. Of course, it is only Gibson, here to help him dress for the day.

“Mr. Gibson,” John begins, as Gibson fastens his stock about his neck.

“Yes, sir?” Gibson looks at him with his wide, pale eyes, and John realizes he does not know what he wishes to say.

He lands on, “Thank you.” It sounds awkward. The way John feels.

“Of course, sir.” Gibson nods and excuses himself, leaving John once again alone with his ceaseless thoughts.

But not for long. Scarcely minutes after Gibson's departure, there is another knock on the door. Mr. Hartnell looks in, the sight of him reminding John, for the first time, that they are meant to meet today.

“I beg your pardon, Mr. Hartnell,” John says. “I had quite forgotten our appointment.”

“No trouble, sir.” Hartnell looks poised to leave. John can't blame him.

The idea of John helping Hartnell come to terms with the loss of his brother through Bible readings would have been a good one, if Hartnell himself seemed at all inclined to want it. He never has. He comes to John's cabin diligently three times a week, sits and listens to John expound upon the Biblical themes of love and forgiveness, but the fidgeting and the chewing of his thumbnails indicate quite clearly that he longs to be doing something else, probably far away from John. John, unsure how to react to this, has bullied on, convinced he is doing the right thing by offering a subordinate the natural, God-given wisdom of a man of a much higher social position and rank. In the cold light of all he knows now, John has to wonder if he was ever right to interfere at all.

“We ought to stop this,” John says, his heart as heavy as his sigh.

“For today?”

“For good. I am no physician, Mr. Hartnell, nor am I a Biblical scholar. I have offered you all I can. It is time for you to seek solace elsewhere.” Harsh perhaps, but true, for Hartnell's own sake if nothing else. Hartnell's face falls. He is a very handsome man, John notes, not for the first time, and therein lies the true crux of this matter.

John always thought he was immune to Thomas Hartnell's charms, as copious as they are, because of who John is. His faith, his background, his rank, all are sturdy armour against sin. But Edward, while not as overtly religious, is just as Christian, and even more highly placed than John. He, quite obviously, has succumbed the lure of a much lower-ranking man.

Rather than flee as he should, Hartnell steps inside, and casts his gaze across John's walls. “If you don't mind me saying, sir, I've always liked these paintings of yours. That cat's the spitting image of my sister's moggy.” Hartnell nods at one of the paintings. A black and grey cat, it was an experiment in monochrome painting, and not one of John's great successes. “Old Tom, we call him. It's quite a thing, to have to share one's name with the cat. I suppose I already share it with half the men I meet. The occasional animal oughtn't make much difference.”

John blinks. “In Australia, we had a bull called Red John.” A huge, ornery beast. John hasn't thought of it in years. It was an ill-tempered old thing that fathered more calves than any other in the area. An irony which, at the moment, does not escape this John.

“Well, now, sir. That is a namesake to aspire to.”

Despite himself, John laughs. It makes Hartnell smile in turn, which sends something soaring in John's breast. “You have helped me, lieutenant,” Hartnell goes on. “Even if it doesn't seem like it. I ain't...I'm not half as addled as I was before I started seeing you.”

“That is kind of you to say.”

“It's the truth.” He bites his lip. John immediately looks away. “You are a good man, sir. One of the best.”

John cannot be silent. “You say that because you do not know me.” Does not know the dreams he has been keeping at bay by clinging to his rank, his position. Has not seen the lake of depravity into which John knew—absolutely knew—he would never dip a toe, until he found Edward Little, of all people, splashing about right in the middle of it.

“I think I do.” Hartnell's expression is so earnest, John wonders, for a moment, if he really does see right through him, and, more amazing still, is not utterly disgusted. “I can come back this evening, if you're too busy now. I would very much hate to miss our discussion.”

“Yes,” John hears himself saying. “This evening.” Perhaps everything will be as it was by then. Perhaps the genie will be back in its bottle, and all will be forgotten. Strangely, that thought doesn't make John as happy as he would have expected it to.

Hartnell's smile grows brighter, making him radiant even in the weak Arctic light. “Until tonight, then, sir.” He turns to go.

“Take the painting,” John blurts out. Hartnell stops. His cheeks burning, John takes the monochromatic cat from the wall. “If you like it, that is. Could be something to remind you of home.”

“Thank you, sir.” Hartnell gazes at painting as if John has presented him with an artistic masterpiece. It's prideful, but John's heart swells to see it. “For everything.”

When he's gone, John brings out his watercolours. He's not sure what he is going to paint, but despite it all, he has an urge to make something joyful. Perhaps, John thinks, Edward is not an infallible paragon of virtue. Perhaps none of us are. And perhaps, he adds, even though thinking it may well be Arctic madness or the beginnings of scurvy or brain fever or some other deadly malady, it is possible to live on regardless.

#theterrorbingo #slight joplittle #hints of future hartving

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aromatickindling-blog · 7 years ago

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Zenith: The Land of Contracts (1/2)

With the recent talk of everyone’s own summoner OCs, I thought I may as well put down the introduction I gave my version of Kiran mentally into words. Don’t ask why she initially considered Anna the grim reaper: instead take the easy route by blaming the scorpion venom and dehydration. It’s not the quality and quantity headcanons can usually give for cheap, but it does expand on why my Kiran mentioned running away from Anna to Alfonse in my previous story.

But since it became rather long, I’ve decided to split it into two parts. I’ll finish the second part sometime later; it’s all just dialogue right now. Hope it’s not too cumbersome to read. The rest is under the cut.

To think, just one moment ago she was contemplating her own demise in an empty desert basin at the hands of a walking photon anomaly. Yet here she was, still delusional from scorpion toxin and thirsty as a dog in front of a red-headed woman all too excited over her appearance. The ear-splitting whoop didn’t help her mood much either.

“I can’t believe it! It actually worked?!”

Yeah, the poison running in her veins really didn’t help. Venom did make for odd bed-fellows with fear, as the poor girl soon dealt with a train of thoughts all drowning her in a desire to run.

If this woman was so enthusiastic over her despite being strangers, she may as well have been kidnapped.

Nothing good ever comes of that.

“Ahem...Oh Great Hero from another world! Thou hast come so far-”

And now this lady spoke in gesticulating dramatics. With how tired she had become, this dialogue only translated into speech made from gargling rocks. Amplified by a sadist holding a megaphone.

She held up an open hand to stop the stranger.

“Just. Who...are you?”

“Wow, that’s quite a wispy voice you have there. Now that I think about it, you look terrible. All that dust staining your clothes...oh. OH.”

She soon had a canteen shoved in her face. Oh thank goodness. Glorious water. Maybe now her mind and throat would clear up. Against her better judgement, she greedily downed it all. All while making the most grateful face she could muster as her body sunk to the ground.

...She must have looked like a pathetic little gargoyle with how mussed up she was.

“FOUND YOU!”

Nerves jolting, the canteen loosed from her grip. She swore she could hear her neck snap from how fast it redirected itself at the source of the noise. Her strange new benefactor took to her side before smoothing into a defensive stance. She only now registered the heavily decorated axe wielded in front of her.

Just what kind of fever dream was this?! Was it the Renaissance Fair she attended last week? The D&D session her co-workers invited her to? The games she indulged in over the days where work threatened to take her sanity? Probably a mix of all three at this point…

Red hair parted as crimson eyes made contact with hers. Her companion’s lips moved, but her own mind failed to take in their meaning. With a bounding leap, she sped off, axe raised.

Both her red-headed companion and the helmeted loudmouth took to enthusiastically exchanging blows off each other’s axes.

‘Wait, if this is supposed to be a dream, then why isn’t...’

The metallic rebounds sounded too sharp to belong in her dreams. Was this a lucid dream? Her nose told her otherwise, as her nerves took to knotting her muscles. Dear lord, this was the worst time to gain nausea.

Red splatter flew through the air in front of her. Her now dubious companion’s axe sliced across the soldier’s torso with disturbing ease, becoming caked in a scarlet splash. The resulting shrill of pain only amplified its color.

This lady was no companion, she concluded. No. This was the grim reaper in disguise here to take her soul, with-or-without her permission.

At least, that’s what her addled brain could muster trying to rationalize everything with all the heavenly imagery surrounding her: from the abundance of clouds to the white-and-gold plating outfit to the Greco-Roman style stone structures surrounding her.

“Whew! I sure took care of him!...Uh, are you okay there?”

Startled at first, her face straightened out into a neutral expression as she strained herself to stand. She fought down bile threatening to purge itself from her body; may as well nod her head and go along with her for the time being. Best to run when a better distraction comes along. If that included shaking the hand of reaper, so be it.

“My name’s Anna. I’m the commander of the Order of Heroes. We- uh, I’ll save you the rest for now. Maybe after you get some rest back at camp. It’s not far from here.”

“Mmm”

“By the way, what’s your name?”

Shit.

Anna, commander of the Order of Heroes and trusted advisor to the royal siblings of Askr, had found herself in a perplexing situation. Out of desperation for help against the Emblian Empire’s forces, she found herself taking the legendary weapon Breidablik to perform the rite of summons. Normally, she would have called the weapon as she usually did: the legendary paper weight. No one in Zenith could use it. Not her, not the Emblian royals, nor the Askran royals. But the legend attached to it kept it safe from being pawned off. Originally, both Embla and Askr traded the relic every half-century as an act of good will towards each other. But with Veronica and her father’s aggression towards Askr, it had been kept in their care longer than anticipated.

She may as well have made use of it anyways. What it gave her in return, however…

Anna turned her head at her newly-summoned aid. Breidablik must have granted her pleas for help in reverse; this young woman summoned as the ‘Great Hero’ looked closer to collapsing than toppling Embla’s forces.

To think she had hoped for the Radiant Hero Ike to come and save them; better yet the legendary tactician Mark of Elibe to bamboozle the enemy lines into surrender with the meager forces they had. No. Instead, she now had a half-lucid lady in odd clothing limping alongside her to the Order’s camp. What should she tell Prince Alfonse? That the Breidablik malfunctioned?

She sighed. Maybe she’ll have a better idea as to why the Breidablik summoned her once she got some rest; then she could show a side of her that would explain why the Breidablik chose her.

“Kiran, it’s only a little further until we get back.”

“Mmm”

“Too tired to talk?”

A nod.

“Well, I should at least give you an idea of where you are. Care to listen?”

Kiran locked half-lidded eyes on hers. Pleased at finally gaining her attention, Anna began.

“This place is known as the World of Zenith. There are several kingdoms here, but the most important are Askr and Embla. I come from Askr, heading the Order of Heroes against Embla. Long story short, Embla’s been invading Askr recently and I used the Breidablik to summon you. Lucky us it worked!”

She paused. Kiran looked ill, clutching her head with one hand while guarding her mouth with the other.

“Need a break, Kiran?”

“THERE SHE IS! GET HER!”

More soldiers, at the worst time possible. Life did try hard at testing Anna’s patience.

“Drat. More of those Emblian soldiers. I can’t defeat them all by myself, and you’re definitely not equipped to help me. You run while I hold them off.”

Shoving the Breidablik at Kiran, Anna changed her lilt to the more commandeering tone she used on the battlefield.

“Take the Breidablik and get out of here, Kiran! Go!”

Both shock and disbelief colored Kiran’s eyes as she spotted the relic. Anna could only gesture frantically at her to leave as she examined the relic with lightly-scarred fingers. She then gripped the handle almost naturally, all while Anna grew more desperate to shove her away from the battlefield. What was she thinking?! Kiran turned away from Anna, shifting to aim the oddly-shaped relic at nowhere in particular. Before she could yell at Kiran to run yet again, the relic started to glow.

“What’s that?! That bright light, coming from...”

Light shot out of the Breidablik, forming a slightly disheveled figure who quickly straightened out into a formal pose. A neatly-dressed noble wielding a silver bow greeted both Anna and Kiran. The latter, at this point highly disturbed, took to staring down the Breidablik’s supposed barrel in disgusted confusion.

“I am Virion, the finest archer of the fairest of realms. Delighted to be of service.”

Anna could only restrain a fraction of the excitement welling up inside her, as her hands gripped Kiran’s shoulders in an attempt to turn her into a living bobble-head. This was it; this would be the power that tipped the war in their favor, and she had found it!

“How’d you do that?! You summoned a Hero, Kiran! You just picked up the Breidablik, and you’re already able to use it!” Anna’s beaming smile faded as her attention shifted back to the Emblian forces, “but there’s no time to chat now. This Virion and I need to get to fighting.”

Both she and Virion left to fight, as Kiran could no longer hold in her gastric fluids from the flashes and sudden shaking. A nearby rock became her pillar as she sunk down to retch. But a glint formed in her eye as she noticed Anna’s absence.

Another axe fighter and an archer; an even fight awaited them. Raising the Nóatún in an arc, Anna barked out orders to Virion.

“Virion, take the right flank. I’ll show this fighter how to really use an axe!”

He swiftly agreed, swiping an arrow from his quiver to his tight bowstring in one clean motion. A horrible gurgling noise came from his feathery gift to the enemy archer’s neck.

“I should expect no less from myself,” he chortled as made a mocking bow toward his downed opponent. Yet his arrogance caught him a spare nick in the shoulder from the dying archer. He didn’t mind too much, save for the sharp pain and the embarrassingly high-pitched noise he made from it.

Meanwhile Anna’s Nóatún exchanged blows with a hefty silver axe. Despite how sturdy her opponent was, she acted as lightning, redoubling each strike that came her way.

“Utterly blinding, fair Anna. Or are you an exception to the naming rule?”

Knocking a second arrow at Anna’s opponent, Virion continued. “You don’t seem to wear the merchant clothing your sisters wear.”

“What sisters?”

“Bwah? Erm, are not all of you related?”

She took to guardedly circling the Emblian soldier.

“Not when we come from different worlds, no.” One more blocked strike attempt pushed her back into circling.

“Gods above, I’ve been summoned to the Outrealms, haven’t I?”

Noticing an opening, Anna decided to focus on striking the axe fighter’s exposed thigh. Ducking lower on her swing, she made a clean slice into the Emblian’s leg. They buckled with a grunt of pain, trying to guard their vitals just with a silver axe. It was not enough to survive Anna’s consecutive blows. With a breathy sigh, they collapsed into a growing puddle of their own blood. Blocking her own disgust, Anna looked away from the sight to Virion and smiled.

“We won! And it’s all thanks to-” She turned to where Kiran should be.

Barren earth stood where she last left Kiran. No, no, no, this – wait. She did tell her to hide, to run. She must be around here somewhere. Yes, that’s it. Cupping hands to her mouth, she called out to her surroundings.

“Kiran! We took care of the Emblian soldiers! You can come out now!”

She paced around. 1, 2, 3...no response.

“Kiraaan! The camp is waiting for us! Fresh water and warm food awaits you!”

Nothing. Air hitched in Anna’s throat. Did she miss another soldier? Had Kiran been –

Virion languidly walked over to her, tapping her shoulder and pointing to the ground.

“Oh dear, seems that charming young lady you’re calling for has left.”

Footprints led into the surrounding hillside forest. If Kiran had run away at the start, she could have had at least a mile’s worth of land covered over them – well, if she didn’t pass out from exhaustion. Wait, right, that poor girl looked sick before they started the battle. She couldn’t have gone that far. Right, she could find her before dinner and tell Prince Alfonse the good news. Still, no guarantee...

“Damn it...Virion, I know your contract’s with her, but please! I need you to help me find her!”

“But of course. She does owe me an explanation as to why I’m here. Oh, and do care not to look behind that rock; we have enough gruesome sights to look at in war.”

Anna looked anyway and gagged.

“So you’re a serial kidnapper in gun form?”

As useless talking to an inanimate object was, ‘Kiran’ still found some therapeutic value in it. May as well since she presumed her own death. Maybe she was in purgatory; that would explain the pain lingering in her aching legs and burning torso. But then why was her heart still feverishly beating at her ribcage?

Of course, ‘Kiran’ was only an alias here. If she ever saw her co-worker again, she’d probably have to apologize to her for taking the name. Ugh, so long as curses didn’t extend beyond this world...

Zenith...Anna had called it.

Shaking her head, Kiran took the gun-shaped relic, probing it everywhere for some switch or button.

“Just take me home. Please. I can’t even fight.”

A hot shower and heated consommé sounded deliriously heavenly. But the Breidablik denied her; the only grooves felt across its handle were decorative Celtic knots. Huh, didn’t know ancient Celts had an afterlife. If she ever got back home, it would be the first thing she’d look up.

She groaned, pitching her head back against the girth of one of the many trees around her. Life made no sense anymore. First it was the bark scorpion sting, then her loss of direction, then an empty canteen, then a light monster enveloping her whole, and now this mess.

Is this how a reaper works? Conscripting the dead to kidnap their targets?

Was she really even dead?!

She scraped a palm across her face. Thinking too hard about this place didn’t help. She needed to find water, food, and civilization, fast.

May as well give in to the madness that was this world. The Breidablik did put her in a bizarrely calm trance when she first fired it, so what was the point in trying to preserve the rest of her tattered sanity when it shot a living, breathing person out of it’s barrel?

Now, Askr and Embla were the two nations here, at war…

A single look at the Breidablik ruled out Embla. If any soldiers found her with it, odds are they’d gut her like a pig. That left Askr, and that meant Anna.

“Either way is doom, huh...” A despairing chuckle escaped her throat.

Frantic footfalls broke her thoughts.

“Kiraaaaan!”

“Kiran, come out and join us! It’s dangerous to wander here alone!”

Her body scrambled for cover at the familiar voices. Anna and her new conscription had come looking for her. Half a second later and her hands whisked the Breidablik out of sight. Bramble-laden foliage was the only barrier between her and Anna’s prying eyes. She prayed it would be enough to hide her.

Unfortunately, the Breidablik had other ideas, as it began to emit a gentle, pulsating glow.

“You. Little. Traitor.” Kiran seethed quietly through her teeth, smothering the light whole with her body as best she could.

“I thought I saw something near that thicket.”

“Really, Virion?! Is it Kiran?”

Gloved hands invaded the bramble, as Kiran’s breathing hitched. As she began to resign herself to being caught, more footfalls came.

“YOU THINK YOU CAN GET AWAY FROM US SO EASILY?”

“Ugh, not more of them! Virion, take the left flank while I deal with this lancer.”

“Very well.” Kiran just laid there as Virion’s brown gloves withdrew from the bramble. She nearly exhaled loudly in relief. With her heart jumping in her throat, she kept sifting through her options. She could shuffle away and risk being sighted to gain distance from them. Or stay here and risk Virion catching her.

With no audible voices heard opposite the battle, Kiran opted to crawl away as quietly as she could. Running would come once she passed enough cover. Despite the Breidablik’s attempt at outing her, she couldn’t get herself to leave it. Somehow, it’s comforting presence gripped her heart with dread at the thought of leaving it. ‘Great,’ she mused, ‘I’m developing Stockholm Syndrome towards an object...’ With what little energy remained in her, Kiran willed herself into running as far as she could from Anna and Virion.

Unknowingly in the direction of the Askran camp.

#fire emblem heroes #kiran/summoner #why can't we replay the prologue again?#it's quite the exposition dump tutorial but still...#tw:blood

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askdawnandvern · 7 years ago

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A Lamb Among Wolves Ch:24

I got some heat after posting last weeks NSFW chapter from some of the people who follow me on FF as well as my art sites for not including the lewd chapter on Fanfiction.net. Of course with this weeks post I covered it, and explained why I had chosen to do so. A combination of factors involving trying to get my stories featured on ZNN (And never getting a response) and giving the story a wider exposure because of the lower rating for the story overall. Of course, that's not really an issue on sites like this, and so there is little need to discuss it. So instead, I will simply say I hope you enjoy this chapter, because 25 is going to get heavy. -WT

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Chapter Twenty Four: It Takes Two

'I need you to keep my muzzle shut.' She could hear the wolf repeating in her head, over and over again. 'Don't let go of it no matter what! Got it?'

Dawn cursed herself as she stood in the darkness of the now startlingly frigid cornfield, her hooves furiously rubbing her upper arms in an effort to warm herself. Once again, a moment of personal weakness had managed to land the pair in hot water. Just like how she had crumpled when faced with Ana's relentless cruelty, and failed to protect the family's stand against Ruddy, Loupon, and the unruly residents of the North Meadowlands. The ewe had now allowed herself to fall prey to her primal, animalistic urges instead of rising above them. She had failed to keep a cool head in the face of her overwhelming, gnawing desires.

It was a seemingly simple instruction, something even a dullard should have been able to follow. But in the heat of the moment, when her body had been pushed to the limit, that simple task had become an impossible one. Her mind had been so overcome, so flooded with desire and the burning need for relief that she had simply forgotten the wolf's missive. She was only a mammal after all, and despite years of evolution and refined civilization, under duress her baser animal urges still easily overwhelmed her rational mind.

She could have blamed her Puppy Love, and his flawed but endearing approach on how to take care of her 'remnant estrus' without alerting the household. But if they had been able to simply leave it at the wolf's original plan, if she hadn't been so insistent after the wolf had riled her up, it could have been something workable. But once she had gotten so near to the threshold of her big release, only to fall just short of it, her composure immediately crumbled under the desperate need for her Puppy's 'full attention'. She hadn't even fully heard him when he first uttered the instructions, her pheromone addled mind had been too busy screaming for the wolf to finish what he started.

When his words finally managed to cut through the heated sexual fog, the ewe was quick to clasp her hooves as hard as she could down on his maw. At that point Dawn would have agreed to anything the wolf said as long as he promised to break the fever that had taken hold of her, the rational part of her brain having been buried deep beneath a sea of lust. She could have blamed the wolf for expecting her to be able to comply with what he had asked under such extreme circumstances, but she had been the one that became adamant that he go all the way once she had become too hot and bothered to turn back.

The ewe shuddered as another light breeze blew against her body. Her estrus had been quelled, at least for a day or two. The heat burning deep inside had rapidly extinguished once Vernon had thoroughly scratched her 'itch', and now the previously temperate feeling Autumn air had become brisk and chilly. Dawn clenched her chattering teeth as she let out a ragged huff. The ewe was walking back and forth as she continued to run her hooves over her upper arms.

Dawn nearly jumped out of her wool as she felt something being draped around her, turning sharply to find Vernon placing the plaid picnic sheet around her shoulders.

"Easy, easy, Mutton Chop." Vernon spoke quietly, holding his paws out in a defensive stance. "It's just me."

Dawn sighed, clutching the blankets edge at she stared up at the wolf in slight confusion.

"I thought it might help with the chill, seein' as how we didn't bring any jackets out here." The wolf said, scratching the back of his head awkwardly. "I figure it's better than nothin'."

"O-oh..." Dawn uttered. "Thank you Puppy." The ewe added, pulling the sheet more tightly around her body. It wasn't very thick, after all the blanket probably hadn't been made with warmth in mind. But at the very least it did help take some of the edge off of the crisp Autumn winds that were now steadily buffeting the field.

With a meek smile, the wolf turned his attention back to the edge of the corn field, and Dawn watched him part a few of the stalks before sticking his head out between the newly formed gap in the direction of the Hunter household.

Now alone with her thoughts once more, the ewe found herself regarding the thin gauzy sheet she was now using as a makeshift shawl. The same fabric that had just moments ago had played bedding to their sexual escapades in the corn field. The ewe gingerly raised one of the clumps of fabric she was holding to her muzzle, giving it a gentle and wary sniff only to find that it absolutely reeked of her and the wolfs scent. Dawn found it comforting only for a moment before her rational mind snapped her back to the issue at hoof. Now free of the sexual haze brought on by her estrus, the ewe's mind was fully alert and becoming increasingly nervous.

'It wouldn't have worked anyway.' She thought, now going over Vernon's plan with a clear head. Even if the wolf hadn't howled, there is no way they would have been able to rid themselves of the undiluted aroma of sex that was now clinging to them like the scent of cigarettes on a chain smokers jacket. Getting rid of the potent odor of their mixed pheromones would have required two separate showers, and immediately washing their clothes and the picnic blanket without accidently running into one of the Hunters.

And considering how easily Yuri had picked up on the fact that the ewe had been in heat earlier in the day, Dawn could only assume that the rest of the family's keen sense of smell would easily expose their misdeed the moment they were in the same room with any of them for longer than a split second. The odds of avoiding the entire pack of Hunters while crossing back and forth through the house several times in order to rid themselves of the smell discreetly were slim to none. Of course, such hypothetical plans no longer held any value. There was no possibility of hiding the fact that the pair had mated now that Vernon had howled.

The Hunters had most assuredly heard them, as well as half the county judging by the faint howls she could hear from other directions. Audrey, Yuri, the rest of the family, there was no way she and Vernon were going to be able to walk back into that house as if it simply hadn't happened. And it was certainly going to be another point against the ewe when it came to the looming talk she was set to have with Dorian.

Once again, it seemed they had managed to get swept into another debacle, only this time they really had done it to themselves. But despite the extra challenge the two would now have to endure thanks to their little slip up, there was one thing the ewe knew for certain. Regardless of the consequences, or what breaking the house rule might do to her and Audrey's fledging relationship, the immutable fact remained that Dawn had damn well needed that.

"I don't see anybody poking their heads out to look for us." Vernon muttered, pulling his head back in from between the stalks of corn. "I-I mean it's been ten minutes...maybe-"

"Vernon, listen!" Dawn grumbled, holding her hooves out and gesturing to the air around them. She remained silent for a few moments as she waited for the wolf to process the sounds.

"Half the county is still howling!" Dawn added. "They heard us!"

Vernon placed his paws up defensively. "I know they heard us!"

Dawn sighed, placing her head in her hoof. "I can't believe we did this..." The ewe slowly dragged her head out of her hoof, letting out a groan as it pulled at her facial features on the way up. " That I couldn't keep my urges under control for two more days! I should have just said no!" Dawn hissed. "No! No! No!"

Dawn heard Vernon whine, and turned her attention back to the large wolf to find looking at the ground. Vernon's ears sagged as he idly kicked at the soil beneath him.

"I-I'm sorry Honey Lamb...I didn't want...I mean..." The wolf ran a paw through his tuft of head fur before starting to chew at his claws.

Dawn let out an exhausted sigh, placing a hoof to her forehead as she regarded the wolf. She hadn't meant to be so flippant with her mate. She was irritated certainly, but more with herself rather than anyone else.

"I-It's both of our faults Puppy, it's not just yours." Dawn lamented. "We both messed up." The ewe walked over the Vernon, taking his paw in her hoof as she flashed him a sad smile. The wolf let out a soft whine as he gave her hoof a squeeze.

"I-I know, but I-" Vernon let out a sigh as he ran a free paw through his scalp. "It was my dumb idea, and I pushed ya into it. I should have-"

"What's done is done now Puppy." Dawn said with a sigh. "All we can do now is try to deal with it the best we can. Together." The ewe offered the wolf an earnest smile as she playfully swung his clasped paw back and forth. The wolf managed a weak smile of his own in return.

"Together...right." Vernon replied firmly, giving the ewe a brisk nod before poking his head back out between the corn stalks, this time pulling the ewe forward as he did so. Vernon spread the stalks wider as he looked back toward Dawn, gesturing with a nod that she join him as he peered at the house from afar. Placing her own hoof against the split stalks to help the wolf hold them aside, Dawn glanced out at the sleepy homestead in the distance. In the darkness of the encroaching night, the warmly lit windows cast a variety of shadows across the expansive empty field leading up to the corn stalks. Each leaf, branch or other assorted bit of light brush caused the scattered light to flicker across the expanse as they blew through the scene. However inside the lit windows, the light remained firm and unwavering, telling the ewe that none of the Hunters were currently looking back toward them. As the ewe continued to watch, she came to the realization that the area around the home had also grown oddly quiet. Despite the stray howls still ringing out across the nearby farms, it appeared those inside the house had long ceased in their reply.

"Should I be looking somewhere specifically Puppy?" Dawn asked, holding a hoof above her eyes in an effort to focus her vision.

"Back porch." Vernon replied, pointing a claw toward the left of the Hunter Ranch. "On the left side."

Adjusting her gaze the ewe could see the large covered porch connected to the back end of the property. The pale glow of what appeared to be a single naked light bulb filtering through the green mesh hazed panels of insect netting. Aside from being well lit, the porch seemed as quiet and empty as the rest of the Ranch at the moment. As far as Dawn could tell, the lack of harsh shadows cutting against the light meant there was no one was waiting for them there either.

"It looks empty." Dawn muttered softly.

"Yeah, but more importantly the kitchen lights are out." Vernon replied, again pointing a finger toward the rear of the home. Now that Vernon had pointed it out, the ewe easily noticed the tall and darkened windows just to the right of the porch.

"That tells me dinner is long over, and Ma's done cleaning dishes." Vernon continued.

"So, what does that mean for us?" Dawn asked, her eyes still fixed on the darkened windows.

"If we go through the back porch, that'll put us right in the downstairs hallway." Vernon said quietly, slowly drawing his finger along the home as if he were plotting the route on a map. "All we have to do is sneak through the hall and get to the basement door at the end of it." His finger drew further across the home, stopping somewhere in the middle. "If we can get there, we can hide out until we figure out how to best confront Ma about what happened."

"A-are you sure Audrey wouldn't just come looking for us there right away?" Dawn asked, arching an eyebrow at the wolf. "I mean, she knew to look for us there last time. I can't imagine she's going to think we're still outside after an hour or two goes by."

"I don't think we'll need an hour Floofs." Vernon turned his attention back to Dawn, flashing her a weak smile that Dawn could only assume was meant to appear confident. "I mean, as long as we get our stories to line-up we'll be alright...and they ain't exactly too different already."

Vernon was more or less right, at least in Dawn's eyes. There wasn't too much that really needed fleshing out when it came down to what had happened. They had mated, and there was no way they could simply lie their way out of it. The howl was overwhelming proof as to what had been done. But as for what lead up to it, and the overall why, those could possibly be framed in a softer and more sympathetic light. It was something the ewe had done before in her political days, back when she regularly had to pull Lionheart out of his own public debacles along the campaign trail. And all things considered, some of the lions escapades were certainly worse than the ewe's current situation. Whatever she could craft wouldn't be able to get them out of trouble, but at the very least might earn them a bit more leniency when it came to facing Mother Hunter.

Dawn shuddered as she thought of Audrey again. She wasn't sure exactly what to expect when it came time to face the she-wolf, but she certainly wasn't looking forward to it. She had been the first to accept Dawn into the family, and stood up for the ewe like one of her own at the family food stall, and Dawn had repaid her by breaking her trust.

"Okay, lets move to the porch as quickly and quietly as we can." Vernon said, snapping the ewe out of her increasingly worrying train of thought. The wolf had already began to move through the stalks only for the ewe to tug harshly at his paw.

"Vernon wait!" Dawn protested, stopping the wolf in his tracks. Vernon arched and eyebrow as he eyed the ewe in confusion.

"What?" The wolf replied.

"W-what about the picnic stuff?" Dawn asked, raising the edges of the blanket she had wrapped around her in an effort to emphasize her point.

"Just leave it." Vernon replied. "I'll get it later, after this is sorted out." The wolf quickly turned his attention back to the Hunter Ranch. "Now c'mon, while it's still clear!"

With a shrug, the ewe cast the blanket off of her shoulders, leaving the incriminating evidence of their misdeeds in the field as the couple made their way back toward the Hunter home. Vernon had broken into a light jog, and the ewe did her best to keep up despite the difference in stride between the pair. It didn't take very long before the two found themselves at the base of the porch stairwell, looking up toward the back door of the home. Thankfully, the first screen door that separated the outside from the closed porch had been left wide open. From the way it looked, with it's peeling faded deep green paint and coiled hinges Dawn could tell it would have certainly made a lot of noise just to open and close it. Dawn bumped into Vernon's leg as the wolf came to an abrupt halt just short the first step.

The wolf placed a paw above his eyes, craning his head in an effort to stare into the tall dark windows close to the porch. Dawn stayed close to Vernon, clutching at the wolf's pant leg as she waited for a response.

"Well the kitchen is still dark, and I can't really see anyone in there right now." Vernon whispered.

"How can you be sure?" Dawn replied in a hushed tone of her own.

Vernon let out a soft whine as he looked back at Dawn. She could see an nervous uncertainty behind his eyes. "W-well I mean, I can't be one hundred percent sure." The wolf tugged at his shirt collar. "But it ain't like Ma could do dishes in the dark."

Dawn gave a meek nod of agreement as the wolf turned his attention back to the porch. He remained still for a moment, seeming hesitant to push forward as he eyed the first step. But eventually the wolf raised a shaking foot before gently easing onto the old wooden stairs. With the slight pressure, the old planks gave a weak groan under his foot causing large wolf to immediately freeze in place.

"Easy now..." The wolf whispered, his ears now flat against his head. Dawn could feel the muscles in Vernon's leg tense as she remained gripped to it, but she could also feel him shifting forward. The wolf was slowly applying more of his weight as he leaned into the step, until eventually, with little fanfare he had put his full weight on it. Once his weight was firmly planted down through his leg, the wolf quickly slipped the other onto the same step, wincing slightly as it let out another weak groan before falling silent once more. Vernon glanced back at Dawn with a weak grin.

"O-okay..." Vernon said in a hushed tone. "I'm gonna move to the next step now. And when I do, you get on the first, okay?"

Dawn gave a brisk nod. Unlike the last instructions the wolf had given her, she was going to follow the new ones to the letter. Dawn bit her hoof as she watched the wolf repeat the process he had with the previous step, freezing briefly with each creak as he edged his way up to the second stair. Once he seemed satisfied with his progress, he gestured for Dawn to make her move.

The ewe gulped slightly as she placed a hoof on the first step. However, unlike Vernon, the step remained completely silent as she eased her weight onto it. It ultimately took her a third of the time Vernon had spent getting onto the step himself. The wolf shook his head, flashing a genuine smirk as he looked at Dawn.

"Thank the gods I have such a light mate." Vernon said with a quiet chuckle.

Dawn flashed the wolf a smile of her own, making sure to keep her giggling on the inside as she waited for the wolf to make his next step. Slowly but surely the wolf moved up to the lip of the actual porch, repeating the same process he had before. Once the wolf was firmly planted on the porch, his step became more casual as he shifted out of the way of the stairs. Placing a paw on the frame of the door, he gestured the ewe forward again.

"Porch is in better shape than the stairs, you won't have to worry as much once yer up here Darlin'" Vernon whispered.

The ewe nodded as she made her way to the second step, and quickly the third and final. Now standing on the deck, the ewe let out a sigh of relief. Her tiny frame had managed to smoothly make it up to the porch without so much as a peep from the old steps.

"Don't get too relaxed just yet Floofs." The wolf said quietly, gesturing to the old screen door that stood between them and the open hallway. "That old door is noisy as hell when you close it, and how loud it is doesn't exactly depend on how much we weigh."

Dawn felt another lump form in her throat as she sidled up to the wolf. Once again the ewe clutched her hooves tightly on the fabric of his pant leg.

"L-Lead the way Puppy." Dawn muttered, using a free hoof to gesture toward the rickety old door.

She could hear the wolf let out an audible gulp as he began to shuffle forward, each step slow and methodical as he approached the entrance to the hall. Once he was just a foot or so away, the wolf stopped in his tracks. Reaching out, Vernon wrapped his fingers around the tarnished bronze handle of the interior screen door.

The wolf let out a long sigh, and Dawn could feel the muscles in his leg tighten as he stood with his paw gripping the aged door handle. The ewe had already begun to brace herself as the wolf remained frozen in his stance. She was unsure of when he was going to muster the courage to open the door, and what kind of noise might come from it when he did, but the longer he waited the more it put the ewe on edge. She could easily see into the hall through the screen from where she stood, and while no one was in there at the moment, the longer they waited only put the pair more and more at risk. After what seemed like an eternity the ewe opened her mouth to speak, but it was in that moment Vernon chose to move.

In one swift motion the wolf ripped the door wide open. The action had been so sudden that the ewe released her grip on the wolf's leg, recoiling in fear as she anticipated the loud groan that was about to cut through the silence they had fought so hard to keep. But it never came, and as the ewe opened her eyes she could see the wolf was still holding the door wide open. The wolf let out a harsh, ragged exhale as he glanced back at the ewe.

"Sorry..." Vernon voice trembled slightly as he whispered. "It doesn't creak if you open it fast. Only if you try to open it slow."

Dawn gave him a small swat, puffing her cheeks as she glared back at the wolf.

"You think you could have warned me first!?" Dawn hissed quietly, trying her best to keep the irritation in her voice at a low volume.

"I know I should have okay!" Vernon spat in a hushed tone. "I just forgot till I had my paw on the handle. It's been a while since I've been out here Lamb Fry!"

Dawn let out a annoyed sigh as she held a hoof over her chest. Her heart was still thrumming loudly due to the scare, and the ewe began to take slow and methodical breaths in an effort to slow it back to its normal tempo.

"I'm sorry Darlin', I'm sorry." Vernon added as he began to slip inside, keeping his arm holding back the door rigid against it. "But we don't have time to hash this out here, we need to keep moving."

Dawn nodded, letting out a quiet sigh as her heart rate returned to normal. Slipping in close behind the lumbering wolf, Dawn watched as he carefully eased the screen door back into the frame behind them. Unlike when the wolf opened it, Vernon now seemed to be taking great care to seal it shut as slowly as he could.

"Now closin' it..." Vernon muttered, briefly glancing down at the ewe. "That's a whole different affair."

The door had managed to remain so silent upon being wildly opened, yet now it seemed ready to make noise at the slightest hair of movement. With every inch or so gained, the door would emit a miniscule creak causing the wolf to stop and wince before continuing. The odd silence of the Ranch only added to Dawn's anxiety and the eternity of time it felt like was passing as she watched the door sliding it to place.

Finally, with a barely audile click, the screen door laid quiet in it's frame, successfully sealing them inside the Hunter abode with barely a peep. She could hear Vernon let out a relieved sigh.

"Alright..." Vernon whispered as he crouched down to the ewe's level. The wolf briefly glanced toward the darkened doorway to the kitchen before looking back at Dawn. "We just need to take the hallway straight down, and we're home free."

Dawn swallowed hard before giving the wolf a reluctant nod as she once again latched herself to Vernon's leg. At the end of the hall she could see the basement door, the couples safe haven. All they needed was just a half hour, maybe less before she was ready to confront Audrey. Just long enough to figure out where to begin before readily facing the music.

The wolf took a quiet step as Dawn remained locked to his hip, her eyes darting around as she scanned in every direction. One moment she was staring into the darkness of the kitchen, to the porch door, then back to the basement that lingered just out of reach. But as her eyes shifted away from the kitchen on another nervous pass, she could swear she saw something shifting in the dark. The lamb quickly pivoted her glance back into the darkened parlor, doing her best to peer into the blackness to where she had thought she had seen something. But despite her best efforts, all she could see was inky blackness. The ewe tried to reassure herself that it was nothing, merely the trick of the poor night vision that sheepkind were so well known for, and yet something in the pit of her stomach told her that it was worth bringing to Vernon's attention. At the very least the wolf could take one more look into the kitchen with his keener sense of sight to put the ewe's fears at rest.

"Ver..."

"Ahem..." With the sudden voice came a loud snap as the hallway suddenly illuminated in the spotlight of harsh electric lighting. Dawn immediately turned to find that the kitchen lights had come on, and much to her horror, it hadn't been empty as Vernon had initially guessed. It turned out the ewe had seen something looming in the dark. Sitting in front of the sink, with her arms folded up tightly as she leaned on of the dining room chairs, was Audrey.

Dawn's heart had managed to leap into her throat so harshly that she inadvertently let out a small squeak before scurrying behind the large wolf she had been practically fused to, only allowing for her head to peer out as she looked back Audrey's way. The ewe could feel her blood freeze as the she-wolf glowered at the pair, her muzzle twisted in a disapproving scowl. Of all the mammals to catch them slinking back into the house in shame, Audrey was the last one Dawn prayed they would run into unwittingly. Dawn had so desperately wanted time to figure out what to say, to face the Mother wolf on her own terms and come clean in a way that was upfront with the wolfess. At the very least the ewe could appear to have some dignity left, choosing to confront Audrey rather than to hide. But being caught like this made it look exactly as though that had been the case. As if the couple had foolishly thought they could get away with what they had done.

Dawn swallowed hard as she looked to Vernon, who appeared almost equally as mortified as she was. The wolf's height had dropped by nearly a foot as he cowered, his ears tight against his head as he bit his lower lip.

"M-Ma!" The wolf barked weakly.

The she-wolf's glare remained cold and unrelenting. It felt as though pure ice was pouring out of her eyes and directly into the ewe as she stared back in mute horror.

"D-Dawn and I, we we're j-ju-"

"Sit." Audrey said coldly, motioning to the two chairs set in front of her before crossing her arms again.

Vernon was trembling slightly, not that Dawn was doing much better. But the wolf remained frozen in his stance. The wolf was seemingly glued to the floor as his eyes darted around nervously. Without Vernon to usher her forward, the ewe remained just as paralyzed as her mate, practically fused to his hip as she gripped tightly around the back of his leg.

"Listen Ma, we-"

"SIT!" The she-wolf commanded firmly, her voice filled with irritation as she flashed her teeth.

In an instant the ewe found herself standing by herself in the now illuminated hall archway. Vernon was practically falling over himself to get to the nearest chair, nearly knocking it over in the process before clumsily taking a seat in front of the angry she-wolf. Dawn was quick to follow suit, wasting no time to scurry up to the remaining chair, her hooves clattering against the hardwood as she scrambled toward the open seat. As Dawn approached, Vernon prepared to give her a boost into the high seating. But Audrey was quick to swat his paw away.

"She can get up by herself." Audrey said flatly, flashing Vernon a icy glare.

That edge on Audrey's voice was enough to get another hard gulp out of Dawn as she rounded the seat corner. Her eyes remained locked to the floor as she began to pull herself up onto the cushioned seat. It was certainly harder to get up without Vernon's help, but Dawn had no intention of complaining. Once she had finally managed to seat herself on the cushion successfully, the ewe quickly turned her focus to her idle hooves as she braced herself for what was coming.

"We have one rule in this house." Audrey said, her eyes shifting back and forth between the pair.

"But M-"

"ONE RULE!" Audrey raised her voice as she cut the wolf off, causing Vernon to shrink further into his seat. Dawn only glanced at her mate briefly before returning her attention back to twiddling her hooves.

"Whenever one of ya'll come home to visit, you behave." Audrey continued, her voice remaining cold and even toned. " Ya'll don't fool around on the premises."

Dawn continued to stare at her hooves, wringing them nervously. The ewe was an adult, a fully grown lamb and she knew it. But yet, she couldn't bring herself to look up at Mother Hunter. The very idea of looking Audrey in the eyes after what she and Vernon had done was absolutely mortifying. And unlike the other situations where the ewe had felt the need to try to step in, Dawn felt it was best to remain as quiet as possible. Whatever the she-wolf had to say was more than warranted, and the faster they could move past the scolding, and move on to the sentencing, the better for Dawn's sake.

She heard the wolfess let out a long and tired sigh.

"I felt it was a pretty straight forward rule." Audrey lamented. "One I felt the reasons behind were fairly obvious to everyone in this family."

Dawn heard a soft whine come from Vernon as she remained fixated on her hooves.

"But I guess I'm going to need to explain exactly why we don't 'rut' like mindless animals when visitin' this house!" Audrey's voice rose at the end of her statement, causing Dawn to slink further into her shoulders.

The squeak of a chair brought Dawn's attention up from her lap only for a brief moment, but as she glanced up she could see Audrey had risen to her feet, turning her back to the pair. The she wolf made it just a little easier for the lamb to keep her eyes on her, but Dawn maintained a low eye-line should she abruptly face them. She warily watched as Mother Hunter walked to the sink behind her, reaching over it and grasping the window ledge. With a heave the older wolf thrust up the shutter allowing the crisp night air to pour in through the now open window. The cool Autumn breeze carrying with it the song of crickets, as well as the faded chorus of howls that were still ringing out across the rural community. With the window wide open the wolf snapped her attention back to the pair, and Dawn's head summarily shot back down toward her lap.

"There's reason number one." Audrey muttered. "I take it ya'll can hear that raucous."

A brief moment of silence hung over the kitchen, a moment Dawn first assumed was meant to make the howling sink in, that was until Audrey continued.

"Do ya'll hear it?" Audrey added, her tone rising slightly.

"Yes'm..." Dawn heard the weak reply from Vernon.

"I'm sorry, what was that Vernon?" Audrey said, louder now.

"Yes Ma'am." Vernon said more firmly.

Audrey let out another terse sigh.

"Thanks to ya'll two gettin' frisky outside, the entire county is in a howl frenzy! In no small part thanks to yer brothers amplifyin' the call!" Audrey snorted. "Now I gotta worry about all o' the North Meadowlands thinkin' I'm playin' host to some kind of Hunter family orgy!"

"Ma, t-that's a bit overdramatic don'tcha think?" Vernon stammered.

"Overdramatic!? Boy-! Mhhh!" Audrey let out a loud huff. "You know as well as I damn well do that wolves can tell what kinda howl it is when they hear it!"

"I-I know but-"

"They ain't here to get the story though! All they're hearin' is five er' more howls that all scream 'I got laid' comin' from THIS RANCH!" A sudden clatter made Dawn jump in her chair to catch sight of the she wolf throwing a wooden spoon harshly in a nearby drawer. She was still standing, but had begun pacing back an forth as she continued her irritated tirade. "And they'll gossip with the other neighbors who aren't wolves, and paint all sorts of unseemly pictures of what goes on here! I already got enough trouble with all the baseless crock of gossip that festers 'round these parts without my son addin' to it by lettin' his pecker do his thinkin' for him!"

"And..." Audrey's angry tone seemed to break slightly. "That brings me to the other reason we have that rule in place." The she-wolf's voice dropped further, becoming more sullen, and as Dawn peeked back from her lap she could see Audrey had placed her head in her paw.

"L-look, I know ya'll are adults. When ya'll bring your mates back home, I ain't thinking all you do is play pattycake or some nonesense behind closed doors." Audrey sighed, shaking her head. "Adults in love have needs..."

"B-but when my boys come home...they're my boys." The she-wolf whimpered slightly. "I'll always see them as my little pups, every time I look at them. And I know it may seem silly, but..." Audrey grabbed a towel off the edge of the sink, taking a moment to dab the corners of her eyes before taking in a harsh drag of air. "When they're here I can sort of...pretend they are still my little pups, I can sort of imagine it was like the old days."

"I-I know Ma..." Vernon whined.

"And if ya'll do...what ya'll did..." The she-wolf sniffled. "It sorta shatters that little illusion for me." The she-wolf let out a sorrowful whine.

By now Dawn's mind was swirling with a mixture of painful feelings. Shame at the pairs sexual congress being broadcast for the whole home to hear. Guilt for hurting the she-wolf who was first had welcomed her with open paws. The knot in her stomach grew as the wolfess continued, each sentence cutting at Dawn more and more.

"I mean, I thought you'd understand. You boys feel the same way about me and yer Father." Audrey gave another hard sniffle, seemingly trying to regain her composure. "How would ya'll like it if you accidently caught me and Dori in the middle of-"

"Okay! Okay! Stop!" Vernon quickly cut the wolfess off. "I don't want to picture that!"

"Well what am I supposed to picture now huh?" Audrey hissed. "Ya'll busted my illusion. Now I gotta try to pretend I didn't hear that howl! That I don't know what went on out there!"

"It's my fault, I'm sorry Ma! It's not like I can just take it back!" Now Vernon's voice was starting to rise.

"It takes two to tango Vernon!" Audrey snapped back. Dawn could feel the she-wolf's eyes on her despite not rising to meet them. "And unless you were out there ruttin' a pumpkin you ain't the only one I should be sore at!" The wolfess spat.

"I'm sorry! But I had to help Floofs, she was suffering!" Vernon protested.

"Vernon, I get it." Audrey sighed. "I know what heat feels like, I've been there. It can be agonizin'." Dawn could see the wolfess shake her head before turning her way, causing the ewe to return to wringing her hooves.

"But ya both ain't teenagers." Audrey continued. "I know it's embarassin' to endure, and can make ya feel sick, but I don't think it's too tall an order to ask ya both to keep it together for the weekend, is it?"

"A-Audrey." Dawn balled her fists tightly as she mustered the courage to finally face the she-wolf. Biting her lip, the ewe finally forced her head up to meet the older wolf's gaze. Dawn reflectively winced as the sadness in to wolf's eyes flushed a fresh pang of shame through the ewe's body. Dawn shuddered, but managed to find the strength to press on.

"I-I'm so sorry. It was my fault really." Dawn continued.

"Honey Lamb." Vernon said in shock, placing a paw on the ewe's shoulder. Dawn pushed down the tears she felt building beneath the surface. She was going to get through this without crying.

"I-It was just a moment of weakness." Dawn let out a shuddering sigh. " And I was the one who ended up pushi-"

"No Lamb Fry. It was my dumb idea." Vernon cut her off. "And it didn't even work the way-"

"But if I hadn't egged you on." Dawn interjected. "If I hadn't been so insistent."

"Alright, alright, it's both of ya'lls fault." Audrey tutted. "We already knew that, and I'm getting more and more uncomfortable with how close the two of ya'll are skirting to..." The wolfess paused, her muzzle scrunching up in distaste. "describin' things."

Vernon let out another soft whine, a deep blush forming on his muzzle as he looked down at his own lap. The ewe would have loved nothing more than to follow suit, the shame urging her to break eye contact with Audrey, but somehow she managed to overcome it.

Audrey let out another sigh as she leaned back against the counter, giving a slow, disapproving nod as she appraised the couple.

"Now I suppose all we're left with is doling out punishments." Audrey said, placing a finger to her chin.

"Aw Ma, c'm-."

"Vernon!" The she-wolf scolding, throwing Vernon another glare. The wolf's ears drooped, but now his attention remained on his Mother as she repeatedly tapped a claw against her muzzle.

"Hmm..." Audrey rolled her eyes, evidently mulling over various options in her head as to the best method of taking the couple to task. Despite managing to keep her chin up, Dawn continued to wring her hooves as her anxiety only deepened.

"Vernon, I think I'm going to have ya'll clean every dish from now until you two leave on Monday." a smug grin crawled across her muzzle as she reached a paw toward the automated dish washer situated near the sink. With a tug, she threw the large door open revealing that it was practically filled to the brim with unwashed dishes, cups, and silverware. "Luckily for you, I hadn't run this load just yet." Audrey's grin deepened into a more satisfied smile. "And you're going to be doin' it by paw. This machine is off limits."

"Ma!" For the first time Vernon actually looked annoyed. "This is ridiculous! You said it yourself, we're both adults!"

"Vernon" Audrey's tone was low and firm, but her eyes gleamed with a spark that told the ewe she was closed to losing her composure in the face of Vernon's protests.

"You can't just punish us like we're pups!" Vernon continued. "Besides, it ain't like we're the only ones who've broken the house rule be-"

"Vernon James Hunter don't you sass me!" Audrey snapped, causing the wolf to slink back into a cowed stance. Dawn couldn't help but be slightly impressed by how quickly the wolf's full name being uttered had taken the wind out of his sails. The amazing power that all Mothers seemed to have when it came to scolding their child, a true set of magic words. In that moment the ewe was thankful Audrey didn't know her full name, lest the magic might easily carry over and make the ewe that much more miserable.

"You know as well as I do that anyone who breaks that rule gets punished!" Audrey continued. " I ain't gonna make an exception now! Take a page from yer brothers and accept yer sentence like an adult!"

Vernon let out a whimper, his eyes shifting back to his lap as he began to wring his paws.

"Yes'm." Vernon replied quietly.

Audrey's satisfied smile returned. "And where's that picnic gear?" The wolfess continued. "You know you gotta clean that too..."

Vernon let out another whine.

"And the grill, yer cleanin that." She added.

"Ma, I barely used it!" Vernon piped up. "It was only roasted co-"

"Vernon James so help me-!" The she wolf hissed, causing the wolf to recoil again. With the ornery wolf easily beaten back into submission, the she-wolf let out a tired sigh.

"Go'on outside and round up yer gear." Audrey muttered. "And come right back here! I want you arm deep in dirty dishes in ten minutes or less."

Vernon let out a quiet grumble before slowly rising from his seat. The wolf began a slow shuffle back to where the two had entered, all the while his head remaining turned down toward the floor. It was certainly an unusual sight when it came to the large wolf, at least to Dawn. He looked so crushed and defeated, completely submissive in the face of Audrey's scolding. But she supposed it was once again the result of a power that could only be weld by the hands of a parent.

"C'mon Dawn..." Vernon muttered, gesturing for the ewe to accompany him back out into the dark, fall evening.

"Oh no, she's stayin' inside boy." Audrey was quick to snap back, earning a gulp from the ewe.

Vernon's eyes widened in surprise. In a flash the wolf had puffed back up, seemingly ready to fight. "Ma you can't be-!"

"Did I stutter!?" Audrey raised her voice, causing the wolf to immediately shrink back into his shoulders. The wolf shook his head weakly, giving a meek no.

"Then scat!"

With that, the wolf quickly scurried back into hallway before slipping out of sight. Dawn heard the screen door make a loud clatter as the wolf presumably exited the home before leaving nothing but uncomfortable silence hanging in it's wake. It was just Dawn and Mrs. Hunter now, and the prospect was nothing short of terrifying.

Audrey glanced down at the now trembling lamb, but to Dawn's surprise, her glare softened as her muzzle slunk into a frown.

"And as for you Ms. Bellwether." Dawn had been wrong, just the last name was enough to make the ewe slink further into her seat. The wolf's sorrowful tone made the name sting that much more, as if she had simply lost faith in the ewe, and it was a feeling she found that much more unbearable than just her anger.

"I-I'm honestly surprised at you..." Audrey tutted. "I thought you were stronger than that..."

Dawn let out a soft whimper. Unable to keep up the eye contact, her eyes dropped back down to her hooves.

"I-I'm so-so sorry Mrs. Hunter, really I am!" Dawn protested, doing her best to remain somewhat stalwart in the face of her overwhelming guilt.

The she-wolf let out a long and tired sigh.

"I want you to take some time to think about what ya'll did." Audrey said somberly. "Ya'll can go anywhere as long as it ain't to help Vernon. I think you two need a little time apart considerin'."

Dawn looked up at the she-wolf, blinking at her in surprise at the oddly lenient sounding punishment.

"I-Is that it?' Dawn stuttered.

Audrey shook her head slowly. " It's the same punishment I give all the girls the first time 'round." The she-wolf pushed herself away from the counter. "Because what matters to them is my trust more than anything." Audrey sighed. "And right now ya'll have wounded my trust in you."

Dawn felt her heart drop in that moment, giving rise to the burning urge to cry. The fact that she had hurt her standing with the she-wolf was an agonizing prospect, something Dawn wasn't sure she could even handle. After all Audrey had done for her in the two days she had been out here, this is how Dawn had repaid her? The ewe was starting to feel sick as she fought back the tears.

"I'm not sure how long it's gonna take to fix that trust, but dependin' on what you come back to me with after thinkin it over, it'll go a long way." Audrey crossed her paws as she frowned down at Dawn.

Dawn gave a meek nod, taking a hard sniffle before easing herself off the dining room chair, starting a shuffle of her own back toward the hallway.

"I-I'm sorry Mrs. Hunter." Dawn said as she neared the hall entrance.

"Me too Dawn." The she-wolf replied. "Me too."

As Dawn rounded the corner, a mantra began to play over and over inside her mind. 'I will not cry.' The thought repeated. 'I will not cry'. The ewe leaned against the nearby wall, letting out a sigh as she allowed her body to slide to the floor. Dawn took a deep breath, trying her hardest to suck the guilt and pain deep down before attempting to let it all out in one long exhale. Dawn repeated the process again, and a third time as she felt the tension begin to ease slightly. It helped somewhat. It had at least managed to extinguished the beginnings of tears that had been stinging the corners of her eyes. But the uncomfortable emotions still lie entrenched deep in her chest. She had hurt Audrey, soiled the faith the she-wolf had been willing to put into her. Dawn was determined to do anything she could to repair the trust she had endangered between herself and the she-wolf, and playing host to a pity party wasn't going to help in that regard. The ewe was keen on making good on her faux-pas through action and resilience. Instead of shedding tears, she would find a way to make it up to her prospective Mother-in-law.

'I thought you were stronger than that...' Those words had managed to sting the worst of all. Audrey had thought she was stronger. Dawn had thought she had become stronger. And once again she had proven weak and feeble when faced with the easy or more enticing option at the cost of Audrey's perception of her. The she-wolf had seen her as strong, despite every situation she had failed to rise to during the previous days. And now, she had caused Audrey to doubt herself. That was what Dawn couldn't stand. She wanted to be strong, to prove to herself and Vernon's Mother that she could be strong. And the ewe was going to start by taking Audrey's scolding in stride, and finding a way to show her just how truly sorry she was. Dawn was tired of letting her weaknesses get the better of her, and in that moment, the ewe made a declaration to herself that she would stand tall. That for the rest of the trip she would try her damndest to stand her ground, and make up for every moment she had faltered in the face of confrontation.

The sound of footsteps caused Dawn to quickly jump to her feet, drawn out of her thoughts in time to catch Dorian entering the hall. The large white wolf made his way over to the office door, opening it without so much as looking the ewe's way before summarily slipping inside with a grumble. Dawn wasn't sure if he had seen her, and chose to ignore her, or had simply been too wrapped up in his own thoughts to notice the petite ewe leaning against the nearby wall. He had left the door slightly ajar, and from where she stood she could hear a few small noises coming from the office. There was a slight clattering of glass and what sounded like a heavy object landing harshly against deflating fabric before the room seemed to settle into an uneasy silence.

'Dorian's alone.' She thought to herself, her mind drifting back to the plan she had discussed with the Hunter sisters earlier in the day. It was a terrible idea to confront him, especially now that Dawn had been the cause of yet another public disturbance the Hunters would be saddled with. But the ewe already knew that no matter how long she waited to act, facing the wolf would never get any easier. It was a looming battle the ewe had no expectations of winning, and was certain would be nothing short of unpleasant. But the opportunity that had presented itself was most likely the best she was going to get. With the fair and her and Vernon's misdeeds in the field still fresh crimes in the eyes of Dorian, facing him sooner rather than later would seem the most professional and genuinely repentant.

"I'm going to make things right." Dawn muttered to herself, balling her fists as she began to walk toward the door. "No more being weak."

The ewe stopped just short of the hard wooden door, freezing in place as her mind began to scream doubts at her. The fresh wounds from Audrey's scolding still stinging sharply, pressing upon her urge to flee.

"I-I am strong." Dawn whispered, raising a hoof up to the door. The ewe closed her eyes, squeezing the lids tightly as she mustered the courage to knock. "I w-will be strong."

Dawn took in a shuddering breath as she finally brought her knuckles down on the hard wood frame, giving it several quiet, albeit erratic knocks. Her nerves had caused her hoof to tremble slightly with each quiet rap, making the knocks almost trilling percussive beats rather than firm and distinct thumps. For a moment the ewe lingered there in silence, waiting nervously for a reply for what seemed like an eternity.

"Come in" Dawn heard the grumbling reply from beyond the oaken door. Dawn took another deep breath as she placed her hoof on the knob, and with a sharp exhale she opened door to Dorian's office.

#Zootopia #dawn bellwether #Assistant Mayor Bellwether #fanfiction #furry #wasted time #ask blog #fan character

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i-am-too-sick · 8 years ago

Text

More Arrhythmia AU! Last thing I'm posting before Sick Days starts! Previous~

It took Nico's sleep-addled brain several seconds to realize what had woken him. The room was shrouded in darkness, Will snoring softly beside him, arms draped protectively around him.

He blinked back the haze from his eyes; healing or not, he was still on a lot of medications, though at lower doses. He wriggled some in Will's grasp, trying to get a good look around. It was when he turned in the direction of the monitors that he saw the nurse, clipboard in hand as she recorded his late night vitals.

"How are you feeling?" The nurse asked softly, scrawling a note on her file with a small smile. "Sorry for waking you, I try to be as careful as possible not to wake the patients."

Will shifted, snored softly, and buried his cheek against Nico's hair. His grip tightened slightly, his boyfriend held protectively against him.

Nico chuckled lightly, Will's hair tickling his forehead. "It's okay," he said fondly, brushing back Will's curls. "I've been doing a lot of sleeping already."

He watched the nurse bustle around the room, reviewing his vitals, adjusting something on his drip. "I'm doing okay, feeling better than I have the past few days actually. Any chance of me getting out of here anytime soon?" he asked hopefully.

"Did your boyfriend not tell you?" She asked, giving him a gentle smile. "Tomorrow morning, I think. Possibly the afternoon, depending on your fever." She said, gently checking his IV drip before standing back up. "Your vitals are good, though, your heartbeat is strong- you're doing really well. Your incision sight is good too."

Nico was so taken aback by her statement that he couldn't even be upset at Will for not telling him. Tomorrow—he'd be free tomorrow. He heaved a sigh of relief, his hand going to his chest unconsciously. "Is there anything I can do to make sure it's the morning? The sooner the better."

He turned and checked his own vitals. He did still have the fever, that much was obvious by the fatigue and slight feeling of malaise that weighed heavily on his shoulders, but it was still low enough that the hospital considered discharging him. And his incision—Nico himself hadn't thought to check the scar after his last surgery, the thought of the raised, angry-looking mark marring his skin was less than appealing. He had just assumed that Will or the doctors would take care of that, which evidently they had when he must have been out of it.

"And another thing, do you know a place to rent surf boards? Not for me," he added quickly when the nurse gave him a look with the clear impression that he was crazy for even thinking about surfing in his condition. "He really wanted to surf on this trip." He patted Will's hair fondly, a sad smile playing on his lips.

The nurse chuckled softly, shaking her head with relief when she realized that he wasn't, in fact, talking about himself. "He looks like he could be a surfer." The nurse mused, stepping back from the machines.

"Well, there's a beach almost right across the street, and a rental place nearby. I can get you some information about it, if you want, but you'll have to take it very easy."

Was there a beach across the street? Nico hadn't seen the outdoors since he'd looked out the window at their hotel. Frankly, he didn't even know where they were in relation to the hotel.

"That would be great, thanks." His eyes drifted back to Will when he blond shifted beside him. "I have no intention of doing anything but laying in the sand. Let him do all the fun stuff," Nico mumbled, biting back a yawn.

The nurse smiled and nodded. "I'll see what I can do. You should go back to sleep, it's late. The best thing for you now is rest." She said, moving toward the exit of the room.

An hour or so later, she returned to a quiet room, both boys asleep. She set a sheet of paper on the bedside table, having called the rental place to let them know ahead of time.

When Will woke up the next morning, Nico was still asleep and he was feeling significantly better than he had the entire vacation. The room was quiet, some of the monitors having been removed overnight.

Nico struggled with wakefulness, eyes fluttering only when he felt Will stretching beside him. He blinked lazily, eyes bleary as he fought off the lingering sleepiness.

"I dreamed I was a cat," he said groggily, "and I just stayed up curled up beside you all day."

As he became more alert, he noticed some of his IV bags had been removed, whatever was still being pumped into him, falling at a slow, easy drip.

"Oh," he said, surprised. "All the machines are gone."

"Mm..." Will smiled sleepily at him, reaching over to stroke idly at his hair. "Yeah. You're getting discharged." He murmured, as if it was some big surprise. "In just a couple of hours."

Will's smile was sleepy, his posture lazy as he leaned over to give Nico a short good morning kiss.

"Really?" Nico asked, eyes wide. He stretched high over his head, toes curling beneath the sheets, and noticed the sheet of paper on the table beside his head. The table that, thankfully, had not been adorned with flowers, balloons, and teddy bears—little tokens of love that would have completely mortified him.

He reached for the paper, reading the note scrawled on the page. He beamed and gave Will another kiss. "We're going surfing. Or rather," he corrected, "you are."

Will blinked, rubbing sleep away from his eyes and turning to gaze at Nico. "What? No we're not." He finally said, shaking his head. "We're going home, Neeks. We're getting on a plane."

Will kissed him back regardless, flopping onto the pillows with a sigh. "Maybe you're more delusional than I thought."

"I am not," Nico said with a huff. He tried not to look too disappointed, the piece of paper clutched firmly in his hand. He'd ruined their vacation already—with something beyond his control—and he wasn't about to let Will's one chance to have a good time slip through his fingers.

"You don't have a choice," he said, smiling ruefully. He held the paper up for Will to see. "You have an appointment at 2. Your board will be ready then."

Will took a long moment to process what Nico was saying. Taking the paper, he frowned at the words on it- it wasn't as if he was upset, on the contrary. He just couldn't figure out how Nico had managed to plan this out.

Turning to Nico, he frowned. "Babe-" He said, feeling himself getting a little choked up. "How did you-"

Nico exhaled, relief washing over him. He half expected Will to be upset with him, and he managed a weak smile when he received the opposite reaction.

"The night nurse helped me set it up," he said, leaning back into the pillows. "You saying that you wanted to go surfing was the one thing I remembered before winding up here, so I wanted to make sure you got your chance."

It was too early for Will to function yet, the gesture making him overly emotional. Frowning a little, he wrapped Nico in a hug and squeezed gently. "I love you. I don't know how you went about that, but I love you."

"Are you sure you're well enough for that?" Will asked, frowning as he pulled away. "I mean, you really shouldn't be sitting in the sun."

Nico shrugged. "You're the doctor, and the nurse didn't have a problem with it when I told her last night."

He picked up his arm and draped it loosely over Will's shoulder. It was a little awkward with both of them lying down, but Nico didn't mind it so much. "We can get one of those huge umbrellas," he said, making a grandiose sweeping motion with his free hand. "It's just sunlight, Will, and I haven't seen any in days."

"Mmm... I don't know." He said, frowning. "I can't keep an eye on you if I'm surfing. I feel like that'd be a little irresponsible." He mumbled.

"We could get an umbrella... and a beach towel so you can lie down or a chair... and blankets, in case you get cold." He looked deep in thought, slipping into Nico's hold with ease.

Nico matched Will's frown with one of his own. "I'm not a child, Will. And I'm not so frail that a little outside time will send me back to the hospital."

"You're not a child, but you don't have a pacemaker and you are just getting over a deadly infection." Will said, rolling his eyes. "I mean, I'm not saying you're frail but, it's... you're just getting discharged, Neeks."

Nico shuddered despite himself, the thought of ending up back at the hospital, especially when he was about to be discharged, made his skin crawl. "Look," he said, capturing Will's lips with his own—his own form of apology for getting so defensive when he knew Will was just being cautious. "I want you to have the vacation that you paid for. The surfing is my way of saying thank you for always being there for me."

The kiss, however, caught Will off guard, and he paused for a second to reciprocate. "I know, I really appreciate it." Will said, wrapping his arms around him. "It's a great surprise. It'll be okay as long as we're careful."

"I promise to be careful," Nico said, kissing Will for good measure. "Umbrellas, towels, blankets, whatever you want—I think there's a book in my suitcase."

He stretched again, muffling a yawn behind his hand. "I think this place makes me sleepy," he said, fighting off another yawn. "I can't wait to watch you surf."

"Okay. Okay." Will said again, kissing him slowly and softly. "I love you so much. I'm so sorry this vacation turned out so terribly."

Standing up, Will stretched his arms out and wiggled his fingers. "You'll be sleepy for another couple of days, and you're going to be on antibiotics for a while longer." He warned, kissing his hand.

Nico kissed him with fervor, melting into Will's side. He pulled away with a gentle sigh. "Yes, because it's all your fault that my incision spread an infection throughout my entire body," Nico said rolling his eyes.

"Totally my fault." Will joked, though he definitely felt like he shouldered some of the blame. He kissed him once more, smiling. "Lets get you ready to go."

Nico tried not to look too disappointed when Will stood from the bed. "No more IVs I hope. Please tell me painkillers and antibiotics come in pill form."

"No more IV's." He promised, "All pills, nothing too bad. They might make you nauseous, but we'll get you some antiemetics if you need them."

Nico sat up and scooted to the edge of the bed, grabbing the handrail as a wave of dizziness washed over him as he moved from lying down to sitting up. He stretched high over his head, his legs sliding down onto the tiled floor.

"C-Cold," he stammered as his bare feet touched the linoleum. He grabbed Will's sleeve, his legs wobbly after so many days without use. He wrapped himself around Will's arm, begging for warmth and needy without reason. "Do I even have clothes to wear out of here? I thought they cut my shirt."

Will wrapped a steadying arm around his shoulders, gently helping him to his feet and keeping him from wobbling over. "Careful, you're still sick, Nico... out of the hospital doesn't mean healed- you're probably at flu level, now..."

Gently lowering him back to a sitting position in the chair next to the bed, Will smiled. "I had an emergency bag packed when we left. Don't worry." The bag contained sweats, loose fitting and careful. "Let's get you changed."

"Wait, this is flu level?" Nico asked, actually surprised by the information. Compared to how he had been over the last several days, Nico almost felt like he could run laps around the hospital without so much as a sweat. "What was I at before?"

Will sighed, moving to kiss him softly. "Infections like that can often be deadly, Nico. Let's just be happy it wasn't." Wrinkling his nose, he stood up and shoved his hands in his pockets, exhaling slowly and shortly. He stood up, grabbing the rest of their things and putting it in the bag.

The stress of the whole situation resurfaced with a vengeance, the thought of Nico actually dying making him nauseous. Taking him to the beach would be just as idiotic as taking him on vacation weeks after surgery. He seemed fine, sure, but who knew what would happen? While he was healing, Nico needed to be resting and able to get somewhere safe if need be.

Nico pulled a pair of gray sweats from Will's duffle bag, slipping them on beneath his hospital gown. They were baggy and definitely not his own. He removed his gown with a flourish, untying the strings and tossing it onto the bed in favor of a loose fitting T-shirt.

Looking down and taking in his appearance, Nico couldn't help the sour look that appeared on his face. "I look like I'm going to a slumber party."

"I'm sorry about the clothes, but your stitches..." He muttered. "Neeks, I think maybe we should just- get the medicine you need and get to the airport. I don't want to risk something going wrong, not again-"

Of course he needed loose clothing, Nico thought, realizing he hadn't once thought about his stitches. He couldn't risk the fabric rubbing against the still healing scar and irritating the stitches, especially with the possibility of infection still sky high. Of course Will had thought of everything.

Which is why Nico didn't argue when Will asked to get out of surfing. He supposed it was logical—just standing and putting on his clothes was exhausting. "Will...," he murmured. He didn't have an argument against Will's decision to leave, but that didn't mean he had to like it.

Will took out his phone, beginning to pull up information on flights home. Truthfully, all he wanted was to be back home and safe- the last thing he needed was another disaster like that one. He wasn't so sure he could handle that.

"It's just... Nico, I thought you were fine, and I thought this was a good idea, and then we got here, and you- you almost died, and-" his voice hitched slightly, and he hardened his focus on his phone. "It's risky, and I'm- I'm scared."

"No, I get it," Nico said dejectedly. "You're probably right. I mean—of course you are. I'm sure it was scary. And I'm sorry... I just wanted you to have a good time."

He took Will's hand and brought it to his lips. "I love you. I'm sorry, I'm not thinking about myself. When do we leave?"

Will chewed hard at his lip, determined not to start crying yet again. The last thing anyone needed right now was for him to start crying. He blamed himself for this entire epidemic, and it seemed like the only way to fix it, (or try to) was to get him home.

"I just want you to be safe..." Will whispered, blinking hard as the words on the screen blurred and distorted. "I just want to go home so this nightmare can be over-"

"Shh, okay, okay," Nico crooned. He stood up and wrapped his arms around Will, his own emotions threatening to get the better of him. "We'll go home, okay? I'm fine. Everything turned out all right."

He rubbed up and down Will's arms, standing on tip-toes to kiss at the blond's eyes when they grew misty. He took the phone from Will's precarious grip, scrolling through the list of flights when Will had all but checked out on him.

"Oh," Nico said, surprised. He turned the phone around and showed Will the screen. "The next flight home isn't for another four hours."

"I'm sorry." Will croaked uneasily, his own hand coming up cup carefully around Nico's arms, holding on. "I'm sorry, I just.. i'm just so anxious.." his voice cracked, and he wrapped his arms around his boyfriend, pressing his face into his hair as he began tearing up.

He held on a little tighter than necessary, fingers curled into Nico's shirt as he struggled to get his emotions in check. When Nico pulled away, though, he sniffled and quickly swiped at his eyes, squinting at the phone. "Four hours..? That's a long time.."

"Uh huh, a very long time," Nico said, nodding. "Long enough to sneak in a half hour of surfing, maybe?"

He knew it was a dumb plea. Will had been very adamant in his decision to get Nico home as safely and as quickly as possible. But Nico couldn't say that he didn't try—he still very much wished that Will had had a chance to enjoy himself on this vacation.

"Too long..." Will mumbled, wrapping his arms around him yet again and closed his eyes, sniffling quietly and resting his cheek on Nico's head. "I'm too nervous to surf. I'd fall a lot and you'd laugh at me.."

"I'm kidding," Nico said, kissing Will's cheek. "We can go back to the hotel and take a short nap before we have to go to the airport. Now come on, cheer up. The nurses are going to think I was mean to you."

Their hotel had been called when Nico was admitted, warned them they wouldn't be returning. The place had been incredibly kind—they'd given Will a voucher for a free stay and left their room open for the remainder of the stay so they could get their things in their leisure.

"I just want to make sure we have something that will keep you comfortable for the flight..."

"Seeing your smile is the only thing I need, Will."

Nico slipped out of Will's grasp and sat back in the chair, drained. He held Will's hand, occasionally pressing light kisses to each side of his palm. "And I wouldn't laugh at you. You're great at everything."

Will frowned a little, sad that Nico had pulled away but knowing he needed to take it easy. "I dunno about that." Will said, sitting back on the edge of the bed. "I think you probably need lots of antibiotics and rest."

Sighing softly, he gave Nico's hand a squeeze. "I'm just nervous about taking you anywhere so soon after you started to recover..."

"And I'll have the antibiotics," Nico said, "and I've been resting for days. Frankly, I'm a little tired of it."

And just tired in general, but he didn't say that. Will didn't need another excuse to say no, though it was unlikely he'd say anything else.

"I know you are, and I appreciate you being cautious, but it's half an hour, Willl. I'll sit under the umbrella with towels, blankets—everything we talked about. It can't be more stressful that being on a plane for several hours."

Will looked hesitant. Of course he wanted to go surfing- he loved surfing, and it had been a really long time, but that didn't mean it was a good idea.

But if they were going to be waiting around anyways, it wasn't like sitting on the beach was much different than sitting in a hotel room.

Chewing at his lip, Will nodded just a little bit. "Don't remind me about the plane thing..."

Nico bit back a smile, sensing Will's resolve beginning to slip. Somehow, he knew mentioning the plane ride would be just the push he needed to get Will to even consider his offer—if the blond thought the beach was dangerous, an airplane had to be ten times worse.

Nico stood again, draping his arms around Will's neck, and kissed him. "It's just thirty minutes. How about, the minute I start feeling any different than now, I'll let you know? If I have to, I'll settle with cuddling you in the hotel room until it's time to catch our flight."

Will sighed tiredly, his hesitation showing through. "I mean... I guess half an hour isnt that long... and I can stay close to the beach so you can see me." Will said, kissing him back.

"Of course I want to see you," Nico said with another swift kiss to the tip of Will's nose. "There's no point setting all this up if I don't get to watch you show off." He dipped his head into Will's collarbone. "I love you. You really do deserve this."

Will hummed his response, sighing tiredly and giving Nico a gentle squeeze. "I'm out of practice, don't get your hopes up too high." He warned, running his hand up the back of his shirt.

"The plane ride is what will suck... they said they'd give me enough of the heavier painkillers to keep you comfortable the whole time, though..."

Nico pulled a face at the mention of stronger painkillers—he already felt like a zombie with the ones he was on now. "Great," he said, wrinkling his nose. "So I won't remember any of the flight home."

"Oh, they're not stronger than what you're on now. You're already super drugged up. They'll slowly lower it once we get home."

Nico chuckled, rolling his eyes. "Drugged up." It wasn't a lie though. He knew the shear amount of medicine he was on attributed to how sluggish he felt. Maybe Will would like out and Nico would just take a nap in the sand.

"I want to see you surf," he reiterated, shuddering as he felt Will's cool hand slip beneath his shirt. "I don't care if you're out of practice."

"Mmm, well. If you want to see it so bad, you need breakfast." Will said, kissing the tip of his nose. With a tired sigh, he stood slowly and made his way to zip up their now packed bag. "I'll run and grab something for you to eat, okay? We'll have breakfast and then get all of the discharge stuff settled, okay?"

With a tired sigh, Will kissed Nico one last time before stepping out, taking a moment in the hallway to take several deep breaths before heading to the cafe downstairs. He returned with juice and a little breakfast plate for Nico, a granola bar for himself. "Eat what you can, okay? There are pancakes, if you feel up to it-" He said, handing over the tray.

Nico swallowed thickly at the sight of the pancakes. He was hungry, his appetite back with a vengeance after so many days on mushy popsicles in a cup, but the sight of the pancake, practically drowning in syrup, was enough to make him queasy. He pushed the plate away with vigor.

There was a bowl of fruit and scrambled eggs that he was more than happy to nibble on in the meantime. "What about you?" he asked around a mouthful of egg. "You can't get through the day eating only a granola bar."

Will rolled his eyes. "I know my limits, di Angelo." Truthfully, he was still too nervous to eat more than this, and surfing was hard work- the last thing he needed was to get sick, too.

He ate his granola bar, glad to see Nico eating a normal sized meal for the first time since they arrived. He'd been losing weight, and at this point Will knew it was getting ridiculous. He'd have to make sure he started eating right, again.

Nico polished off his scrambled eggs quickly, picking at his fruit out of necessity more than actual hunger. Even though it had only been less than a week, eating already seemed like a foreign concept to him and was something he'd have to fight to do without not nauseous.

"Yeah, yeah," he said popping a grape into his mouth. He picked absently at the bandages around his hand from when he'd inadvertently pulled out his IV. "I know I pushed for the whole surfing thing, but I'll be happy when we're finally home."

"We don't have to go, Nico. Honestly, I'd rather you be comfortable, don't do this just for me." He said quickly, frowning widely.

He stole half of a strawberry, if only because the pink color was nice to look at. Vibrant in such a dull place. He wished they allowed flowers in the ICU. Once they got home, he guessed.

"No, we definitely have to go. We have to." Seeing the frown on Will's face, Nico added quickly, "Seriously, I'm fine. It's just, you know—I miss my own bubble." He waved his hands dramatically in front of his face, a goofy grin on his face. "Nico World."

He pushed the rest of the fruit in Will's direction, if only because it was a nice distraction to watch him eat. Nico might have been the one in the hospital, but Will needed to take care of himself too. "Come on, I'm bored. Can we leave yet?"

Will was taken a little bit aback by how badly Nico seemed to want him to go enjoy the water. When he really thought about it, he was sure Nico knew how stressed he was. He was reminded of how much he really loved Nico, deeply and stupidly hard, someone who was trying his best to cheer him up from his hospital bed.

Very quickly, he leaned in to give Nico a long, passionate kiss. "I love you." He said, kissing his cheek. "I'll get you back to Nico world soon." He promised. Stealing another piece of strawberry, he smiled a little. "These would be better with sugar on them."

While Nico was caught off guard by the suddenness of Will's kiss, it didn't mean that he didn't melt completely at the feel of Will's lips on his own. "Whoa...," he breathed with a smile when Will finally pulled away, stumbling and lightheaded.

"I love you too," Nico said, still trying to get the pleasantly dazed look off his face.

"If that'll shut you down so quickly, I oughta be doing it more often." Said Will, rolling his eyes. "I think we can probably go now, but let me go double check with your nurse. We need to take out that Iv, too."

Will went to talk to the nurse, getting the rest of the papers signed before going back to the room. "Good luck, you're free to go. I have all of your meds here."

"Finally," Nico sighed. They still had to wait for the nurse to take out his last IV, but she was right on Will's heels when he strolled back into the room.

His IV was removed under Will's watchful gaze because Nico refused to watch the needle as it slid out from beneath his skin. He was given instructions on how to take his medicine: antibiotics three times a day until he could schedule an appointment with his cardiologist back home (which was basically Will), and his painkillers were to be taken liberally as needed, though she suggested a pill and a half for the flight since the pressure in the cabin was likely to cause him some discomfort.

Much to Nico's chagrin, he was forced into a wheelchair—at least until the front door, the nurse assured him. "I don't know which I hate more," Nico said, trying valiantly to sound casual and not let his true bitterness come across in his tone, "hospitals or wheelchairs."

Will took Nico's hand, walking beside him as they made their way to the exit of the hospital. Will shot a longing glance at the fish tank, swearing he'd take Nico to a real aquarium sometime soon.

"I know you hate the wheelchair. I'll piggy back you to the beach, though. I don't know if we should go there now, then rest at the hotel after? Do you feel well enough? Or would you rather go to the hotel first to rest?"

"If we don't go now, we never will," Nico said a little sadly. He could feel his muscles, achy from so much movement, and he knew he'd be gone the moment he laid eyes on the hotel room bed. He told himself he'd get time to sleep on the plane ride home.

It was the first time Nico didn't immediately voice his opposition for a piggyback ride. He knew there was no point, really—if Nico was getting his way with surfing, Will would get what he wanted too.

#nico di angelo #will solace #solangelo #percy jackson and the olympians #heroes of olympus #arrhythmia au #sickfic #my fiction #emetoprincess

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