#but Owen’s version is he needs someone who he can take care of

[pimento-playing-hopscotch]

Owen “I-need-to-have-someone-in-my-house-who-I-can-take-care-of” Strand

No, no, no. I mean, that you’ll get to spend some time with your new family.

911 LONE STAR | Season 4 Episode 17.

[hippielittlemetalhead]

So I've seen a lot of 'Hop actively dislikes and distrusts Steve', 'Hop tolerates Steve because he's useful during UD shenanigans but doesn't like him', and the big swing to 'Hop has adopted Steve as his own and treats him the same/almost the same as he does El'

BUT, I present:

Hop pseudo adopts Steve because when he and Owens were trying to get the Harringtons to make any decisions about their teenager who saw some sketchy shit and may need government testing they legally gave Hop the rights to act in loco parentis and he takes that seriously because he doesn't want another Will Byers and he's pretty sure the Harrington kid has a concussion.

Hop who stays involved just enough in Steve's life season 1-3 that we the audience see Steve is getting attached. But Hop just sees an annoying kid who won't leave him alone when he's trying to deal with a rebellious psychic and her insane little friends and keeps asking stupid questions about highschool romance and teenage rivalry drama. Knows Joyce Byers doesn't like the kid but won't give a lot of reason why but he's mostly learned to trust that woman's judgement about people. Still gets him the job at Scoops when the kid's dad makes a stink about college and tells him if he survives a few months there he'll consider bringing him on the force, makes sense to keep him close and in a position to help should shit hit the fan again.

Hop who doesn't get it when Steve is one of the most relieved when he 'comes back to life' after Joyce and Murray bring him back from Russia. When Steve introduces him as "My Hop," (something he'd taken to calling him just before season 2 shenanigans) to his sarcastic, fidgety little friend like it means something. The girl, Robin, looks between the two of them and gets this sad look on her face for a second before smiling and shaking his hand and saying something about "Dingus has told me all about you".

Hop who complains to Murray one of the times The Party and assorted teens and adults are over at his renovated and expanded cabin (courtesy of Owens and shady government organizations recognizing these people are worth investing in, heavily if omens are to be believed) when the bald annoyance asks about what's up on there. Complains about having annoying teenagers who have nothing better to do but pester him legally put under his supervision cause their parents can't be assed to care and are spoiled little shits who are slightly more bearable versions of said parents cause he can stand toe to toe with one of those monsters they faced and the kids kind of listen to him. Complains about barely being able to breathe cause of regular visits and check-ins like Hop was still responsible for him. Says at least the extra hands are useful around the cabin what with the still healing up and El pacing herself after the showdown with Creel and still trying to find Max and the Byers not quite moved back to Hawkins yet.

Hop who doesn't realize that Steve hears every word cause he had gone looking for the older man when he disappeared for more than a few minutes, when he couldn't see him to make sure he was here and safe and alive. Steve who thought Hop actually had come to care for him in his own gruff way and had confessed to Robin that in a lot of ways the way Hop has taken care of him makes him the closest thing to the father figure he's always wanted but never thought he'd get to have. Steve who hears Murray hum and recollect a visit from Nancy and Jonathan where their romance officially started (he vaguely knows about the visit, didn't realize that's what happened, didn't realize she couldn't be bothered to even do the decent/considerate thing before moving on to something better) because it seemed it was a pattern he was seeing 'people liked Steve, but people didn't love Steve'.

Hop who hears a choked sound like someone taking a claw to the gut and turns to see Harrington. Steve Harrington his bandages just peeking out from the collar of his shirt and the opening of his sleeves. (He never did get the stories behind those, too busy being fussed over and being told about the kids and how they were doing as Harrington played babysitter) Steve Harrington a kid who went through hell and still managed to smile and laugh and stand tall and unyielding looking at him with a blank face his eyes misty and his shoulders starting to curl in on himself before he clears his throat, chokes out that he just wanted to make sure Hop was alright but looks like Murray had everything under control. He'd go now, get out of his hair, let him rest, let him breathe. Steve Harrington who walks away with purpose like a man on a mission and doesn't acknowledge the kids calling out asking if he's alright, make sure he has his walkie talkie on him.

Hop, who realizes maybe he left behind two kids who missed (needed) him. Who wonders who took care of Harrington's paperwork when he was concussed and sedated because he was bleeding out and feverish from infection and Hop was busy at the cabin reveling in the comfort and warmth of his daughter and the woman he loved and her two sons who were fast becoming like his own. Hop, who realizes too late that maybe if he'd given the kid half a chance he could have had 3 sons to sit with him and his daughter and the woman he loved as they basked in surviving another end-of-the-world. Hop who has spent years barely giving a damn about Steve Harrington and realizes that he's no better than the kid's own parents.

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4.1

Part 4.2

Part 5

[anewkindofme]

I'm an absolute sucker for worldbuilding and when I was re-reading A Little Monkey you'd mentioned how the Littles ward had extra beds for the CGs- do you have any other headcanons for your littles-are-known aus? Love your stuff!

Aww thank you so much! I love world-building in my fics because it just makes everything more real!

In general in all of my fics…

There are levels of regressing. Some are on the older end or even if they regress younger, they can live alone, drive, etc. That’d be Tim in my “Grumpy Boy” verse. TK also can live on his own in “The Little Monkey” and did in NYC, but he chooses not to at this point as he’s still recovering from all the trauma that happened there. Others can’t live alone. I haven’t gone into it but Mateo can’t. The Terrible Trio in my Grey’s verses can’t. Their dropping isn’t as obvious to them and it effects them more in their older spaces.

There’s a foster care system for Littles that can’t live alone and need a full time caregiver. Most of the time, Littles can choose who they live with. Caregivers can also have their licenses taken away. Littles can also choose to enter the foster system so they can move to other places, get jobs, etc. This is what April did in my Grey’s verse vs Jackson and Alex who were kicked out.

Littles are a protected class. Most levels can work and go to school. They are to be given time off and not be penalized, within reason. For example, if a Little regresses more often than not, it’s not a reasonable accommodation for a job or school to continue to give them all that time off. But, this can be avoided by them knowing their classification early on so they’re not in that situation.

In all my verses, Littles are classified at 16 as that’s when their bodies begin regressing. Same with caregivers having the biological need to take care of someone. Some Littles show signs at a younger age. Potty training may take longer, they may have certain delays. I’ve said this in TLM, but the Strands knew pretty much TK’s whole life how he’d classify so it wasn’t a shock nor really a transition.

To piggy back off my last point, caregivers have biological urges/needs just as much as Littles. They need to take care of someone. Even if they don’t have a Little of their own, they often go into fields where they’ll be helping people. Thus why you have Owen as a first responder, all the caregivers in my Grey’s verses are doctors, etc.

Not all caregivers are good people and most neutrals are not bad people. Caregivers may have the biological need to care but just like parents who may love their children, they are not showing it in the best ways.

Neutrals can have guardianship of Littles (as we see in “Anonymous Ones” with Harper & Jackson) but they need to prove that the Little is still receiving the care they need.

There are people against caregivers, littles, etc. Even some classified as caregivers and littles protest the system. Conversion camps are unfortunately legal unless they are abusing Littles. However, Littles can refuse to go and it’s not covered under medical protection. Most just don’t feel safe protesting.

There are Little versions of basically all children’s places. Medical offices, daycares, regressor wings in hospitals, bounce places, parks, you get the picture. Aquariums and museums also have “Little hours” for Littles to feel more comfortable.

There are nannies for Littles. I want to go into this in one of my verses but most don’t need one given they either only feel comfortable letting family watch them (I could not picture Owen leaving TK with a nanny) or in my Grey’s AU, there’s a daycare right there.

A lot of Littles sometimes aren’t always “big” or “little”, they may fall in between. Such as acting more like a pre-teen or teenager. I write TK a lot like this because tbh, even in canon, he acts like a grumpy teen a lot. Same with Jackson and Alex in my Grey’s verses.

There are Little products and special stores. From cribs to clothes to pacifiers, even high chairs and baby food and formula that can sustain an older person. I have half a Little!Tyler Lockwood fic where he has a bouncer and swing.

Caregivers are naturally stronger than Littles, which is how they can carry them.

Littles have more difficulty with sensory than caregivers and neutrals.

There are probably more I can’t think of now.

[vgbellylover]

Kink Rankings - Owen Felford

(Pic from @bellybiologist)

Godlike / Monstrous / Superhuman / Above Average / Average / Miniscule || Ravenous / Greedy / Sloppy / Relaxed / Casual / Proper / Perfect Manners || Thunderstorm / Lion's Roar / Engine / Blender / Kitten Mew / Electric Buzz || No Thanks / Who?

So, I thought I'd take the opportunity to introduce one of my OCs.

This is Owen. He's an oc for a Korean MMO called Elsword. Technically, he's an official character, but this version of him is mine, along with another "oc" of mine for this Fandom.

Anyway, his heritage is water dragon. And being dragonborn means his appetite is massive. Like, it's bigger than the game's main character, Elsword, who's a petty stereotypical Shonen protagonist, so that's saying something. He also suffers from a ghoul-type curse where if he doesn't consume the flesh of a sentient creature every so often, he risks losing his mind, so he has swallowed people whole, both in his dragon form and in his human form(s). He's also a shape shifter, which further adds to his hunger, considering how much energy shifting consumes. Being a predator isn't something he typically enjoys and he usually regrets doing it, but he doesn't have much of a choice because he doesn't want to end up hurting someone he cares about again. Although, if pissed off enough, or if he thinks they deserve it, he'll gladly swallow and digest someone. Some of the things he's gone through because of his curse have left him with a shattered mind. Of course, beings around his family helps suppress the effects of his curse, but that only works for so long.

And that ties into his eating habits. He's more likely to mind his manners on the days he's more stable, and not bother as his mental health deteriorates. Even on his calmer days, though, his manners are far from perfect, since he stopped caring what others think of him for the most part, using his fingers, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand, drinking noisily, and belching loudly whenever he needs to.

For this last bit, I shouldn't have to say that his stomach is extremely vocal, whether it's packed to the brim or completely empty. The latter is rare though, since there was a time in his life when he was severely malnourished due to vivid nightmares that plagued him. Now he eats as much as he can whenever he can, and always has food and drink on him.

[fountainpenguin]

Who were you rooting for to win in each finale of Total Drama (including Ridonculous Race)?

?? It has literally never occurred to me to root for someone while I watch. TIL.

[Disclaimer - I do like Total Drama but this post involves me talking about ships and characters I don't like; I don't like putting that kind of stuff in the tags. I'm not disabling reblogs but please only reblog if you like this post and not because you want to fight; I'm just answering an Ask]

R-Race was the only one that left me truly "Aw man" about it. The characters who are my favorites to watch vs. those who I would expect and/or desire the narrative to reward with my author eyes are absolutely different, ha ha.

So for those who don't know, in the first 3 seasons (maybe more?), the two finalists each have an ending, and different endings air in different countries (I believe they were determined by voting on the Total Drama website during the final week).

All my TD 'fics take place in the same universe and the canon winners in my storyline were Owen, Duncan (who felt guilt-ridden about it, which was the plot of my one-shot "Chris Missed"), Heather, Cameron, Zoey, Shawn... I didn't post any R-Race 'fics beyond the opening bits of Lions Under Palm Trees, but I remember being disappointed by the winners. But that's more because I dislike Geoff with a fiery passion than anything else.

The characters I would argue are the narrative's main characters of their season... I would say Gwen for Island, Duncan for Action, Cody for World Tour, Mike for Revenge, Zoey for All-Stars, Jasmine for Pahkitew, and the cops for Race. Those aren't necessarily the people I personally want to be winners; just saying I think that's who the writers liked a lot and it showed.

World Tour was my first season; I was exposed to it by a sibling listening to it in the same room as me (which also means Aleheather came out of NOWHERE for me because it was purely audio exposure and missed all the small visual cues and I thought they just hated each other... I mean, I've rewatched the series several times since then and I still dislike this ship because I feel like it came out of nowhere and I don't feel any love between them, but idk how much of that was influenced by my first non-visual exposure to their relationship. And just because it's a NOTP for me, that doesn't mean I consider it non-canon... but that's how I write all my 'fics when my NOTPs are canon, so).

I was definitely exposed to the World Tour versions of Courtney's, Heather's, Cody's, Ezekiel's, and Noah's personalities before their Island selves, which I think influences my interest in them as characters in the prequels. Hands down TDWT favorite season, absolutely no contest for me. Pahkitew is close second, though.

I think Cody's the only character I would consider myself to be "rooting for" during a season. The concept of a character who got mauled by a bear in his first season, had to sit out the second season, then finally comes back and gets a fangirl who is obsessed with him to the point that he can barely participate in half the challenges because she is In The Way is SO funny. I also feel like Cody suffered more than most characters on the show due to the combo of bear mauling and having his boundaries consistently violated... He deserved a win. I know he's already a rich kid but I don't care.

In no particular order, my favorite characters in the series are Ezekiel, Eva, Noah, Leonard, Topher, Max, Dwayne Junior, and the Adversity Twins, but I wouldn't describe myself as rooting for them... they got as much screen time as they needed to. Leonard and Topher are some of the best characters I've ever seen in media though, I love them so much <3 To this day, I've never loved writing a character as much as I've loved writing Leonard. He's SO funny and he's a goofy little angel. I have so many unfinished Leonard drafts... I'd love to finish those 'fics someday, but I just don't have time to do everything.

I don't know what current fandom opinions on Topher are, but back when Pahkitew was airing, my quip to my siblings was that "Topher is so manipulative, he even fooled the fandom into thinking he's not as bad as he is." That kid played up the manipulative angle to look shallow on purpose... to hide the fact that he legitimately was super manipulative. He's fantastic. I haven't seen Pahkitew in about 7 years so a fresh watch might affect me differently, but... man. Topher, my absolute beloved.

(In my 'verse Topher is the son of Don (the R-Race host) which means he was just chilling around the elimination area in my R-Race elimination 'fic Lions Under Palm Trees, and man... my love for "character who lives in a hotel, doesn't have either of his parents around, who has mostly been left to care for himself, and he looks up to his dad with stars in his eyes despite also being the most manipulative slimeball in the world..." He's horrific, wants you to think he's a cinnamon roll but can and will absolutely destroy you just because he's bored... I love that 'fic draft so much.)

One of my favorite R-Race teams was also the couple who was super mushy at the start and then started fighting all the time (I think their names were Ryan and Stephanie, but it's been years so I might be wrong). I didn't feel attached to them as characters but I loved how they were portrayed, if that makes sense. My family were big fans of Amazing Race for years (used to watch it weekly) and we watched the second half of R-Race together as a family. We were crying laughing about how accurate their fighting was to the couples who actually participate in Amazing Race. Absolutely 10/10 characterization. No notes.

I don't know if any of that answers your original question, but that's kind of all I have to say. I liked characters who did neat things, but if they weren't competitive enough to fight for victory then they did not deserve to and I would have been mad if they ended up in the finals despite not being a good player. If you're weak then you deserve to go home like the weak links you are <3

I root for "being fun to watch" I guess. And Cody in World Tour.

(Zeke deserved better but also I wouldn't change his World Tour arc for a second. Becoming blinded with obsession to the point that you literally become a twisted, feral version of yourself and start hunting the other characters down and that's it, that's your character arc is the best thing I've ever seen. That moment of quietly cold, calculated, absolutely suppressed fury on Zeke's face after he kidnaps Chris in "All Stars" and Chris is monologuing about every horrible thing he's ever done to Zeke is my everything. That moment when you see what a broken human he's become. That moment he realizes Chris doesn't care he's hurting and doesn't want to help him because feral Zeke is "good content." I need everyone to understand.)

[fahrni]

Saturday Morning Coffee

Good morning from Charlottesville, Virginia! ☕️

I’m getting more and more excited about writing code full time at work. I’m sure that won’t last but I’m going to enjoy every minute of it while I can. 😃

I ran into issues getting my git SSH keys to work earlier in the week and while I find that frustrating it was also a nice challenge to fix. I’m up and running and ready to break some stuff! 👍🏼

I hope you enjoy your coffee and the links.

Sarah Burns • The Irish Times

Irish singer Sinéad O’Connor has died at the age of 56, her family has announced.

The 80’s was my era of music and I most certainly remember Nothing compares 2 U, it was a big hit.

The thing that really struck me is, she was 56 years old. As I age my mortality has occupied more of my thoughts than I care to admit, but there you go.

God speed. ❤️

Jacob Zinkula • Business Insider

ChatGPT creator says AI advocates are fooling themselves if they think the technology is only going to be good for workers : ‘Jobs are definitely going to go away’

Emphasis is mine. I’ve not used ChatGPT but we’re pushing into AI hard at WillowTree. It’s such a hot button item at the moment all agencies will have to take it very seriously.

For my daily work I see it as a really smart auto complete. The next evolution in code assistant. It felt like cheating early on but as a developer you still have to validate the output. Did you get valid and good code? It may not work all the time. Yes, it’s fallible but it’s also early days. I am certain I’ll use it at some point to help generate some code.

Give it another 10 years to mature. I’ll be really close to retirement by then and the next next generation can use it to their advantage. 😃

Owen Bellwood • Jalopnik

According to General Motors boss Mary Barra, Chevrolet has backtracked on its plans to completely kill off the Bolt, which has so far seen its sales more than double in 2023. Now, the company is working on a next-generation Bolt, which will join Chevy’s other electric models: the Silverado EV, Blazer EV and Equinox EV.

I found this really encouraging! We need more little EVs in the market and I always thought the Bolt was a nice little car.

Hopefully the next generation gets its fire issues under control.

Oh, the only downside I can think of is Chevy’s insistence on building their entire infotainment system.

Manton Reece

Dave Winer posted a 12-minute audio recording on his blog, addressed to me but applicable to everyone who is creating tools for the social web. Listening to it, I have a bunch of thoughts. In this post, I just want to start with server-to-server ActivityPub, and leave some of the other technologies Dave brings up for later.

Dave Winer has created a bunch of the technologies we rely on everyday in the blogging world; blogs, RSS, and Podcasting delivery. Now he’s trying to unify the mechanism to span posting to multiple social networks and blogging.

Manton Reece is the creator of Micro.blog — the service I use to publish this site — and is into open standards like MetaWeblog and ActivityPub, so much so Micro.Blog is a Fediverse server by federating with Mastodon.

To see these two chatting about putting something together to bride these systems is nice to see. I see what Dave is proposing as the next version of MetaWeblog, perhaps extended to accommodate new blogging and social network norms.

Perhaps Micropub could serve to do this? I’ve not looked into it but it seems like it could be the way to go?

I have my own opinions on the matter and I’m sure I’ll voice them at some point. In the meantime it’s nice to see this happening and I’m going to keep an eye on it. 👀

Robert Reich

Someone who has tried to overthrow the U.S. government cannot be president.

Mr. Reich is point out what may sound obvious at first but what he’s really saying is it shouldn’t take a conviction to eliminate TFG. We all know he tried to overturn a fair and valid election in 2019. We all know he rallied his supporters to storm the Capitol and try to stop the formality of recording the election results.

He doesn’t need to be convicted. He’s a danger to democracy and the rule of law. That’s disqualifying. ⚖️

leboncoin Engineering Blog

I recall how, when I was a junior developer, I often felt happy and reassured when I was writing software. It felt like a safe place compared to the overwhelming complexities of the world. The simple, deterministic functions, mechanical in their way of working, offered comfort. If you inject an input, it always gives the same output. It’s controllable, manageable, uncomplicated!

If you’re good at what you do eventually someone will notice and give you more to do with greater responsibility. Eventually you’ll be mentoring people and more junior developers will naturally look to you for your experience.

It’s not a bad thing. It’s just what happens and isn’t isolated to software engineering. This happens in all fields.

While I enjoy working with Junior folks there’s also this big part of me that’s ready to sit in the corner and just work on features and bugs, and that’s all. A simplified dev life. 😃

Dean Obeidallah

Barbie not only broke box office records, she destroyed the GOP’s Barbie Boycott

Barbie isn’t a film I plan on seeing but it sounds like the GOP is once again up in arms over cultural issues dealt with in the film.

I hope it breaks all the records. 🎬

Tony • arcadeblogger.com

I was visiting my family in the Chicago suburbs recently, when my niece mentioned she saw “some TRON thing” sitting on a curb while she was riding her bike through the neighbourhood.

As a teen I remember well the arcade in Exeter. It was called the Quarter Slot. Ahhh, good times. Anywho, I will never forget the Tron game — not the one mentioned in the article — because there were two guys who spent a crazy amount of time playing it and taking copious notes on how to beat every level.

Yes, those were the days.

James Surowiecki • Fast Company

Threads has one big advantage over Twitter: Zuckerberg understands advertising

If Threads can pull people away from Twitter — I mean, ahem, X — does that help to extinctify the ailing bird?

Who knows. Musk is crazy rich so I’d imagine he can keep it afloat for a very long time.

All I want to know is when will he be selling Twitter.com and for how much? It would make for a great Mastodon instance. 🐘

Ryan Erik King • Jalopnik

The Alpine F1 Team is currently competing at each race weekend with the odds slightly stacked against them. The Renault power unit used by the French factory team is believed to be 30 horsepower behind their rivals. Under normal circumstances, Alpine would be told simply to improve on their own, but there’s currently a freeze on engine development. The FIA, the sport’s governing body, wants to allow Alpine to catch up.

Alpine is kind of what remains of the Renault team and it seems like they’re going backwards.

I’d love to see them move closer to the front of the pack but they continue to be one of the “back of the pack” teams with flashes of brilliance on rare occasion.

Formula One is an extremely tough sport to compete in. Teams with extremely deep pockets can buy great engineering and dedicate huge resources to land their teams in victory lane. It also makes the races really boring. 😃

Here’s hoping Renault is given a chance to fix their horsepower issue ahead of next season. At this point I suppose it doesn’t matter much.

I’m a Haas supporter myself. It’s the only American team on the grid so why not support them? They also have Guenther Steiner who is the most entertaining of all the Principals in F1. 😃

Oh, by the way! Since you’re an American team why not use American built power? I mean, you run Ford motors Stuart Haas Racing, why not work with them on an amazing F1 power unit? I’d love to see that! Don’t let Red Bull be the only team doing it!

Who else is looking forward to the next season of Drive to Survive?

Tim Hardwick • MacRumors

Apple has become the target of a £785 million ($1 billion) class action lawsuit on behalf of over 1,500 developers in the UK over its App Store fees, reports TechCrunch.

Unfortunately this is pocket change for Apple. I don’t make much as a developer of apps for Apple devices but to those who do giving up 15 to 30% of revenue is a big deal.

Even if Apple allow for third party stores or payment processors they’re still going to charge their fee. Might as well keep the App Store as it is and be done with it.

Daring Fireball

Translation From Hostage Code to English of X Corp CEO Linda Yaccarino’s Company-Wide Memo

I mean, if Yaccarino isn’t actually asking for help to get out now I suppose she will be in six months to a year because Space Karen won’t agree with her about something and drive her insane or sack her.

Just let Twitter fade away, sell off the domain, and let’s move forward with the open web.

Janis Mara • berkeleyside.org

Peet’s is widely credited with transforming the industry — after all, the three founders of Starbucks learned much of their craft from founder Alfred Peet — but there’s much more to it than that.

I’d always known Peet’s was a big influence in the coffee world but I had no idea how much of an influence it really was.

This story is a fun read about one employees view from the inside. ☕️

[maraudersbutmuggle]

"The Prank"

Content Warning: Gender Dysphoria, Transphobia, Violence, PTSD. Depression, Mentions of Sexual Abuse. ANGST, ANGST, ANGST.

It was the week before exams. Everyone was crazy, especially the fifth years. These exams would define their possible careers in the future.

Remus was twice stressed. He was sick of people asking him questions and asking him to tutor them and sharing his notes with them.

After he had yelled to two poor third years, and slammed his book shot, making Peter jump, he went to the loo. Just to wash his face and take a bloody break.

He didn't know it would be one of the worst days of his life.

As he washed his face, he heard someone coming in. But Remus ignored it. Perhaps it was another boy.

"Hello, Rosie"

"Rosie, my sweet Rosie" "No!" "C'me here, Rosie..." "DADDY!!"

Remus began shaking. He looked that the voice came from Snape. He was staring at Remus like a strange animal in the zoo.

"Snivellus" Remus tried to sound confident, but his voice sounded high pitched.

"Rosalind Meredith Lupin. That's your name, isn't it?"

"C'me here, Rosie..." "Daddy!! Help!!"

"I don't know what you're talking about"

Remus was trying so hard not to break down. How did Snape find out?

Snape ignored him.

"I can't believe you fooled everyone. Even myself" Snape let out a little laugh. He stared at Remus with disgust "And all this time, you'd been a girl?"

Remus shook his head. Now he was shaking.

"I'm not a girl" but he didn't sound convincing.

"What I don't understand is who else knows? How could Dumbledore let you in, if you're sick. You are a freak"

"Shut up" more shaking "How did you find out?"

There was no point in denying it now. Remus was being so obvious.

Snape grinned. He took a piece of paper from his pocket.

"Thanks to the little love note between you and Black" Snape said "Maybe he needs to be careful where he leaves the love letters you send him"

Now he remembered. The note he had exchanged with Sirius. About his binder. About him being trans. He had begged Sirius not to show it to anyone.

"And then, I searched for you on the Internet. You were in the local news, Rosie. One of the victims of Fenrir Greyback. They found he had been raping girls thanks to your dad, the hero" Snape rolled his eyes "You were his last victim before he went to jail"

"Please don't tell anyone" Remus begged.

Nobody knew about that, not even his friends.

Snape shrugged "Why wouldn't I? Lupin? This is golden. One of The Marauders is actually a girl..."

"No..." Remus cried

"I can't belive your friends hid you like a fucking experiment. What do they do to you, Rosie?"

"I'm tryin' to be nice, Rosie..." "Please no!!" "Shut up!! I said shut up!!"

All Remus could do was cry and tremble. He didn't even dare to look at Snape anymore. He despised him and he couldn't believe Lily actually liked him. But Remus hated himself more.

"I thought I smelled grease from outside"

Remus was even more embarrassed to see his friends enter the bathroom. James in the front. Like a good leader. Him and Snape were mortal enemies.

"Potter" Snape clenched his teeth.

They noticed Remus.

"Moony?"

Sirius noticed Remus with eyes of concern. It was his fault. It was his fault Snape knew.

"What did you say to him, asshole?"

"I didn't touch your little bitch, Black" Snape scoffed.

"You and your greasy ass are always around upsetting us" James said "So go away"

Snape ignored him "You fucking perverts"

"Excuse me?"

"You hide a girl in your dorm, probably spy on her while she changes. God knows what else..."

Sirius rolled his eyes "What the fuck are you talking about? What girl?"

Snape pointed at Remus "Rosalind"

"Get away from Rosalind, you fucking wanker!!" "Daddy..." "I'M GOING TO KILL YOU!! I'M GOING TO KILL YOU!! NOBODY TOUCHES MY DAUGHTER!!"

The Marauders turned to look at Remus. They didn't know his birth name. Remus felt so embarrassed. He clenched his nails on his arm, harder and harder. He wanted it to hurt.

"What is it, Marauders?" Snape continued, voice full of hate "Do you take turns to fuck her?"

PUM!!

James knocked Snape to the ground before anyone can stop it.

"SHUT UP YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE!!"

Snape touched his nose. And then he laughed. Like a maniac.

Greyback touched his nose. And then he laughed. Like a maniac. "Come on, Lyall! Hit me more!"

James wasn't satisfied. He kneeled down and kept punching and punching Snape yelling swear words and insults.

Remus was in shock. He stood there, glued to the ground. Like a statue.

Sirius crossed eyes with him. He looked so broken, and angry too. His eyes lowered. And Sirius turned to help James with the beating.

Peter seemed in shock as well. He had managed to put an arm around Remus and whispered things like: "It's okay, Moony. I'm sorry. It's okay"

This is it. Remus thought. Snape is going to die. James and Sirius are going to kill him. And Remus would be an accomplice. A stupid witness that didn't do shit. Just silently cried and shook.

Finally a younger boy came in and gasped looking at the scene.

"GET HELP" Peter yelled "PLEASE!"

The boy ran away. And minutes later, someone came in with him.

"STOP IT!!" It was Lily. She was pale as a ghost. Not in the normal way, but nearly transparent "I TOLD YOU TO FUCKING STOP!! YOU ARE GOING TO KILL HIM!!"

"PLEASE LYALL STOP! YOU'RE GOING TO KILL HIM!!" "He hurt her!!" Lyall cried, still hitting Greyback "He hurt my little girl"

Remus was surprised to see Lily's strength as she pushed James away. Peter ran to do the same with Sirius.

James was panting. He blinked like finally reacting. He looked at Lily, who was crying. And then at his hands. Covered in blood.

"Go and find McGonagall, Owen" Lily sobbed, talking to the little boy still there "Please"

Owen obeyed immediately.

"WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU" Lily screamed mostly at James. He looked pale. Nearly in tears.

"Sorry..." he said "Sorry Lily.."

It was the first time that James Potter felt so small and quiet around Lily Evans.

But Lily was already on her knees, checking on Snape.

"Sev..." she cried "Sev... please wake up"

James' eyes were focused on them. He looked embarrassed. Sirius on the other hand approached Remus.

"Remus, are you okay?"

"Rosie, are you okay?" Hope asked, tears in her eyes. "MUMMY!!" the child cried. "Oh honey, it's okay" Hope hugged her child, crying herself "Mummy is here, is okay"

Remus flinched. Mostly because he was surprised that someone had addressed him. He had witnessed everything as if he wasn't there. And he felt the pain in his palms. Bleeding because of his nails.

He didn't want to talk to Sirius. He didn't want to talk to anyone or to see anyone. He just felt pain pain pain. Guilt Guilt Guilt. Anger anger anger.

This is your fault, Sirius. He knows because of you. He almost died because of you.

"FOR THE LOVE OF GOD!!" McGonagall gasped, covering her mouth "What the hell happened?"

Nobody answered. They could only hear Lily's sobbing.

"Miss Evans, who did this to Mr. Snape?"

"It was me" James whispered. James never whispered. He was always loud.

"What was that, Mr. Potter?"

"It was me" he repeated

"And me"

Sirius, the loyal companion. Loyal with James, not with Remus.

"Miss Evans, please take Mr. Snape to The Hospital Wing right now! Mr. Pettigrew, help her"

"Yes, professor"

Remus didn't understand how Peter was so calm, how could he even react?

"Potter, Black. To my office"

James didn't even protest. He gave a last glance at Lily, who was stroking Snape's hair. And James walked outside. Sirius immediately followed, his eyes on Remus as he walked. Concerned blue eyes.

I hate you. I hate all of you..... Not quite.

McGonagall walked carefully towards Remus. He noticed he was still trembling and panting. McGonagall didn't scold him. She just smiled.

"Mr. Lupin" she said kindly "Why don't you step into my office, and we'll take some calming tea. Alright? You can explain what happened?"

Remus just nodded. Because he couldn't speak. McGonagall touched his arm, and they walked outside. Remus find in her body a support not to fall.

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

The boys were not expelled but severely punished after they explained their motives. Snape was forbidden to speak to anyone about Remus. Remus remained angry at Sirius and James for months after this. But they make up.

This is my muggle version of The Prank. But this time it makes sense.

[rafael-silva]

hello! this is my first time posting for work in progress wednesday and I’m a little nervous but also excited to share this part from my upcoming bad things happen bingo fic! I editing this part a bit so I can post it and I think it’s also 90% how it will be in the final version of the fic! this fic features dual function FD medic TK! feedback would be greatly appreciated! 

*****

“Officer Reyes,” Owen replies. “How many apartments are occupied?”

“All of them,” Carlos responds. “Some tenants made it out but there are still others unaccounted for,” he continues, pointing to the group of people sitting on the lawn.

Owen nods. “Judd, radio for additional ambulances, Officer Reyes, I’m going to need you to expand the scene perimeter for the incoming rigs.”

“Yes, sir,” Carlos nods.

“I should go in, too.”

The two captains and officer turn towards TK’s voice, finding the paramedic standing near.

“TK,” Owen starts to object but TK shakes his head, effectively stopping the rest of Owen’s sentence.

“Someone could be hurt in there and they could need help right away,” TK says. “We’ve seen how bad injuries can get in a fire as big as this, I have the training, I can do this.”

Tommy and Owen share a look and then the fire captain sighs.

“Okay,” Owen agrees. “You’re going in with Judd.”

TK nods, hands Tommy the medkit and quickly starts moving towards the firetruck to retrieve his turnout coat and gear, the adrenaline already starting to pump through his veins.

Carlos exchanges a quick concerned look with Owen before radioing Mitchell to relay Owen’s instructions as he follows TK. He reaches his boyfriend as TK is slipping on his coat.

Hearing footsteps approaching him, TK turns for a swift glance and spots Carlos. “It’s a good thing we keep these in the truck. It still fits,” he says, an attempt to lighten the tense atmosphere a little.

It doesn’t quite work as he had hoped, but Carlos gives him a small smile. TK takes it as a win.

“I’m going to be fine,” TK reassures Carlos, his tone turning a little serious as he feels and sees the worry and concern radiating from Carlos’s brown eyes.

The officer nods, placing his hands on his belt.

“I need to do this,” TK says.

“I know,” Carlos reaches a hand and places it on TK’s shoulder, giving him a light, supportive squeeze there. “I’m not going to try to talk you out of this. Just promise me you’ll be careful.”

TK knows it isn’t easy for Carlos to say those words, that every cell and fiber in Carlos’s being is screaming at him to stop TK, to tell him to stay out here, where it’s safe. Because TK knows he himself would be hearing those same screams inside his head if it were Carlos going into a dangerous situation. But he knows they trust each other, that they know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, the other is good at what they do, and that it is part of who they are. Still, however, that knowledge doesn’t really help much in taming the hot pit of worry that brews in their stomach when the other is going into a dangerous situation.

TK knows Carlos is being strong for him, he can read it in his facial expressions and in his body language, in the rigid muscles under Carlos’s uniform. But he just as easily can identify that trust Carlos has in him, the love he feels and carries for him.  

He takes Carlos’s hand and intertwines their fingers for a few moments.

He knows he has to go now, that every second counts, but he also doesn’t want to leave Carlos without reassurance. TK can sense when a hint of tension seeps from his boyfriend’s body at his touch.

“I promise,” TK gives him a small smile. “And I’ll be with Judd the whole time,” he adds, his voice strong.

Carlos nods again and then TK’s hand is gone from his. His eyes trail after TK as the younger man regroups with his crew.

Carlos feels frozen in place, his gut twists and dread sets into his bones, unable to shake this feeling that something dark is awaiting in the smoke, lingering, waiting. Carlos shakes his head, trying to expel those thoughts and to compose himself.

TK is going to be fine.

He stands taller, his breathing under control now, ready to focus on doing his job but all he can feel and concentrate on in this moment is the ghost of TK’s touch.

[martianbugsbunny]

OUAT Thoughts Pt.19--Episodes 18-19

I have watched through S2E19; spoilers DNI. Also, spoiler warning for anyone further behind than I am.

—I got my Pinocchio and Gepetto reunion. I asked to have a big emotional event, I have nobody to blame but myself. And the writers, it’s really their fault I’m sad.

—The good kind of sad, though. Gepetto actually gets to help his son grow up. Pinocchio gets a no-holds-barred second chance. That’s a pretty rare bit of pure happiness for the characters.

—I can’t quite tell if Tamara is supposed to be from the fairytale world, or if she’s just a regular person who believes in magic. If she is from the fairytale world, I have no guess as to who she might be.

—I actually don’t like that she’s carrying on with Owen. Working together to take down the town? Sure. But having them be in a secret relationship feels A) cliche, and B) kinda forced. I’m still open to the idea that their relationship’s backstory will get a stronger foundation later on, but as of right now I think it’s a bit of a weak link in the otherwise great story.

—The Dragon was kind of disappointing. Giving me this mystic character who for some reason can see and cure magical maladies and then just bumping him off was kind of weird. On the other hand, I don’t really feel like investigating yet another storyline right now, so it comes out even.

—Oh, good. We’re having nightmares about killing children again.

—At this point, I’d like to believe Mr. Gold wouldn’t seriously threaten Henry, but if he starts descending into evil again I’m not so sure.

—Mr. Gold throwing shade on Granny’s *wink wink* not-frozen lasagna was hilarious.

—I love when Henry calls Charming “Gramps”.

—Bae is a surprisingly decent father. I mean, he hasn’t done a whole lot yet, but he seems committed.

—Him and Henry dueling with their lil wooden swords in the park was fun.

—Lmao, that nurse asked Mr. Gold to describe Belle and he basically told her to look for the pretty one. Gushing about her beautiful blue eyes (that’s just fact) and her unforgettable accent…he’s so in love.

—I am now at about 12/10 on the Mad At Regina Meter. Just because she’s miserable and won’t learn to move on with her life, doesn’t mean everyone else has to be miserable too.

—Also, I really don’t like Lacey. She’s a piece of work. Not to mention, she is exactly the wrong kind of person for Mr. Gold. He needs someone who is willing to challenge him, who can care about him while pushing him to be the best version of himself, and Lacey is the opposite of that. She doesn’t challenge him at all. She doesn’t care about him being a good person. And I’m pretty sure Belle would dislike her, too.

—Despite the fact that Lacey’s clothes are very similar to things Red would’ve worn closer to the beginning of the show, I don’t like Lacey’s clothes at all. (Gee, I wonder why—it can’t possibly be that the girl wearing them is the difference *sarcastic*)

—Seriously, it is unnerving that Lacey can just stand there and watch, smiling, while Mr. Gold beats the tar out Nottingham. I have gone on and on about my love for Mr. Gold/Rumplestiltskin, myself, but his bouts of rage are essentially the one thing about him that are truly off-putting. I don’t find violence attractive, and at some level I distrust anyone who does.

—I much prefer the Belle who is like the Charming to Rump’s cursed!Snow. Episode 19 really reminded me of the episode where Charming took an arrow to keep Snow from killing the Evil Queen. The elements were all there—hell, those episodes even have literally the same bow and arrow! And there’s that oh-so-delicious element of fighting for the soul of someone you care for.

—THE LIBRARY! That’s the best part of Beauty and the Beast. To me, that represents the Beast telling Belle that they are now equals (I could get historical/philosophical on that, but my braincells are much too tired) and not only that, he does it with books!

—The smell of old books is lovely. Or maybe it’s not old ones, but ones made of a certain kind of paper? Whichever it is, books smell good.

—I had kinda hoped Hook died of New York. I am entirely displeased to see him return.

—I think it’s interesting that Lacey wears almost exclusively blue. Now, Belle has worn many different colors, in Storybrooke and in the fairytale world, and blue has been featured in some of her outfits, but it’s also the fact that she’s not wearing yellow. It’s an interesting visual reminder that she’s a different person now.

—Belle is going to be disappointed and shocked and angry with herself and with Mr. Gold when she gets her real memories back. And yes, I continue to be optimistic, even though it’s a pretty stupid strategy for this show.

—Why shouldn’t Emma go to the fairytale world? Literally all her friends, her house, and her life are with the fairytale characters. There’s no reason why she should pick the “real” world. Also, with the magic bean supply, she, Henry, and Bae could work out a travel solution if Bae doesn’t want to go back.

—Something’s totally gonna happen to the beans though. Because of course it is.

[bellakitse]

Take Me Back to the Start

“I thought our fight was going to be our last words to each other,” he whispers, his eyes filling up. “I’m so damn sorry, baby.”

Carlos looks into those green eyes, wet with unshed tears and relief, and frowns. “I’m sorry, but who are you?” he asks and watches with growing dread as those eyes widen with shock and fear.

+

Carlos is in a car accident and forgets the last three and half years of his life.

M | 15.4K | AO3

Everything hurts.

That’s the first real thought Carlos has as he squints up at the lights over his bed through sore eyes. He can’t remember ever aching this much everywhere at once. He’s pretty sure even his hair aches, something he didn’t think was medically possible, but here he is, lying on what he’s sure is a hospital bed, and everything fucking hurts.

Closing his eyes for a moment, he tries to take inventory of the damage. His head is pounding, and when he moves it, he feels a tug over his brow that tells him there is a bandage there. Looking down without trying to lift his head, he catches a glimpse of a soft cast on his left arm from his wrist to his elbow. He tries to sit up to take in the rest of his body, only to let out a hiss when his ribs scream in protest at his sudden movement. Focusing on his breathing, it takes him a second to realize there is someone else in the room with him with their hand on his shoulder, helping him lay back down.

“Hey, hey, hey, slowly, Carlos,” he’s told with a gentle but urgent voice. “You have three cracked ribs from the accident. You can’t be moving like that right now.”

“Accident?” he questions through gritted teeth waiting for the wave of pain to pass. He gets a wince in return for his question.

“You flipped your car,” is the answer he receives. “The roads were wet, and we think an animal crossed your path. You swerved to avoid it, lost control of the Camaro, went off the side of the road, and flipped.”

“Jesus,” he whispers. He clenches his right hand as he tries to recall the accident described to him and comes up empty.

“I really thought I lost you.”

He turns his head at the words, finding beautiful green eyes pained and worried as they stare back at him.

“When I got the call,” he continues, letting out a shaky breath while running an even more trembling hand through his brown hair. “I thought our fight was going to be our last words to each other,” he whispers, his eyes filling up. “I’m so damn sorry, baby.”

Carlos looks into those green eyes, wet with unshed tears and relief, and frowns. “I’m sorry, but who are you?” he asks and watches with growing dread as those eyes widen with shock and fear.

 ֎֎֎

 His retrograde amnesia, the doctors say, is brought on by his head injury during the accident. They have high hopes it’s temporary, but they can’t know for sure.

All they can do is wait, he’s told in hopeful tones, and while he can appreciate the optimism, all that means to Carlos right now is that he’s lost years of his life. He woke up thinking it was 2019, and instead, it’s 2023.

He gets the cliff notes version of the state of the world. Global pandemic in 2020, bad. Trump lost reelection, awesome. Michelle found Iris alive, a miracle. She left town to go help others like her sister, admirable.

The guy with the pretty green eyes sits in the corner of his hospital room silently while Carlos’ parents catch him up on things. Carlos’ eyes stray to him more than once, always finding his gaze on him as he nervously bites down on his lip.

“Do you know who TK is, son?” his father asks softly, turning towards the man in question. His mother has walked over to stand next to this TK, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder as he flinches when Carlos shakes his head, letting them know he doesn’t.

It’s strange and frustrating. It’s evident by the sympathetic looks they give the stranger and how his mother rubs his back that the man is someone they care about. Someone who is connected to Carlos, and no one needs to say out loud how for him to read between the lines.

TK’s broken expression as he stares at him – what he’d said when Carlos first woke up, lets him know what he needs to know. He and TK are involved.

That part isn’t necessarily shocking. His life might be suddenly turned upside down and his memory in shambles, but he has eyes, and TK is breathtakingly beautiful. He imagines that he took one look into those pretty green eyes and lost all thought of anything else.

What’s hard to imagine is a relationship where his parents are obviously well acquainted with someone he’s involved with.

“I don’t remember,” he says softly, feeling horrible at the choked sound TK lets out as he stands up from his chair. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, staring at the man across the room with regret.

“It’s okay,” TK answers with a wobbly smile that fools no one in the room. Finally, he exhales loudly, his eyes straying for the door. “I think I need some air,” he says, already turning on his heel, ignoring Carlos’ parents when they both say his name, leaving them alone in Carlos’ room.

“I’m sorry,” Carlos repeats quietly as the room is left in silence after TK’s abrupt exit.

His mother comes over to him while his father shakes his head at him. “Don’t apologize, mijo,” he says gently. “This isn’t your fault, and no one understands that better than TK. No one blames you for this.”

“He’s hurting,” Carlos points out. He might not remember TK, but the man’s expression hides nothing. On the contrary, his pain has been visible since the moment Carlos first opened his eyes.

“He loves you, Carlitos,” his mother says instead of denying his words. Her expression is achingly sad as she takes his hand, giving it a soft pat. “And he’s scared.”

Carlos doesn’t say out loud he’s scared too. There is a gaping hole in his memory in the shape of a man his mother claims loves him, a man who pulls at him in a way he can’t understand, and Carlos is terrified he’ll never know if he can’t remember him.

 ֎֎֎

 A slew of unfamiliar faces visits him. Paul, Marjan, Nancy, Mateo, Tommy, and TK’s father, Owen. He politely answers when they ask him how he’s doing and apologizes when he has trouble remembering their names. He gets waved off in return as they smile compassionately and tell him they’re just glad he’s okay. That it doesn’t matter that he doesn’t know them even though they’re supposedly his friends – they’re just happy he’s alive.

He gets visited by Judd and Grace Ryder, and while he does remember them, it startles him to realize they are his friends now too. He remembers Judd from the 126 and is struck when he’s told the old crew is all gone. He can’t imagine what that must have been like for Judd, and he tells him so.

The tall man gives him a saddened smile that tells Carlos it’s still a pain that lingers. Judd tells him having his new team helps with that grief and how thankful he is that Owen and TK Strand decided to come to Austin years ago to rebuild the firehouse, giving Judd and the others a new family.

He sits up straighter at the mention of TK. He hasn’t seen much of him in the last few days, at least not while he’s awake. The guy is obviously giving Carlos space, but Carlos has caught him more than once at night when he is half-asleep checking in on him.

Carlos has taken to playing possum to not scare him off.

“Is that how we met?” he asks Judd. “Me and TK,” he clears up when Judd gives him a confused squint of his eyes. “Did he and I meet on the job?”

Judd and Grace share a look between each other.

“You really don’t remember anything about him, sweetheart?” Grace asks softly, her eyes pitying when he shakes his head.

“Man, I can’t imagine what that must feel like,” Judd says with a harsh exhale. “Poor kid must be losing his mind without you.”

He must make a face at that because Grace elbows Judd in his side hard in response.

“Not that it’s your fault, man,” Judd rushes to comfort him. “This was just really shitty luck. But you and TK have been through worse. You’ll get through this.”

Carlos swallows hard at the conviction in his friend’s voice. “My mother says he loves me,” he questions, still having a hard time believing it himself. While parts are missing from his mind, he does remember that there was never anyone serious in his life. No one who stuck around long enough for him to love, let alone love him back.

“He does, very much,” Grace says with a smile on her pretty face. “And you love him back just as much.”

“You’re actually pretty sickeningly cute together,” Judd tells him. “Always in your own little world where only the two of you exist,” he continues, getting a fond eye-roll from his wife. “It makes the rest of us want to pour water over the two of you, but after three years, we’ve learned to live with it.”

“Judson,” Grace scolds her husband softly, but Carlos tunes them out as he files away another piece of the puzzle.

Three years.

 ֎֎֎

 He gets discharged from the hospital two weeks later. His ribs are bruised but healing, as is his arm. The scratches and bruises on his body are mostly faded. He greets the news of his release with barely restrained glee – already half out of his mind after spending so many days in the hospital.

“You’ll come stay with us, Carlitos,” his mother says with a smile that feels over the top. “It will be so nice to spoil you.”

He looks from her to his father and then finally to TK, who is actually there during his waking hours for once. He takes in his rod-straight posture as he stands at the end of his bed, his jaw clenched.

Carlos raises an eyebrow at him. “You’re okay with me going home with my parents and not you?” he challenges, barely holding back a sharp grin when it startles the man in question.

“I want you to feel comfortable,” TK answers after a moment.

“You’re my boyfriend,” he shoots back, only slightly stumbling over the last word. “I should be comfortable with you, shouldn’t I?”

“You don’t know me,” TK points out, his jaw tightening even further, and Carlos has the urge to touch at the edges, to run his thumb over the smooth-looking skin until TK stops grinding his teeth.

Instead of soothing him, though, Carlos shrugs a shoulder at him, seeming more unbothered than he actually feels. “Maybe if you didn’t just visit me when you think I’m asleep these last two weeks, I’d know you.”

TK’s mouth drops, his eyes going wide as he sputters, and Carlos has to ignore the little vicious voice in his head that cheers at the reaction. Instead, he turns to his parents, giving them a shake of his head.

“If I’m going to remember my life, then I should probably start living that life,” he reasons, holding up a hand when his mother tries to speak. “And as far as I know, I wasn’t living with my parents when the accident happened,” he lets the statement hang, waiting to see if anyone will correct him. “I thought so. I’m going home, to my home.”

He looks back over at TK, finding his eyes locked on him once more. There is so much going on behind those eyes. Too much for Carlos to read it all when the man continues to be a stranger to him, but there is one thing Carlos does recognize. Tentative hope.

“So,” he starts, raising his eyebrow once more as he drags out the word. “Are you gonna give me a ride back to our place or not?”

 ֎֎֎

 “This isn’t the way home,” he points out the next day from the passenger’s seat of TK’s Ranger. The ride has been mostly silent except for the radio playing. His discharge had also been quiet, his parents doing most of the talking while they waited for his doctors to sign off on his papers. They’d made TK and him promise to call if they needed anything while also letting them know they would be checking in on them often. “You missed the turn on Lynwood,” he says, pointing back at the avenue.

TK makes a face, something very much like a grimace. “Yeah,” he starts to say slowly. “We don’t live there anymore – haven’t for a while actually.”

“We moved?” he questions, surprised. His place had been big enough for two people. More than enough for a couple just starting to live together. “Did you not like it?”

“I loved that house,” TK answers, turning to look at him. “I was so happy when you asked me to move in,” he continues softly. He gives him a sad smile. “But there was a fire, and we lost it.”

“A fire?” he repeats, swallowing hard at the sudden inexplicable fear he feels. TK looks over at him again, going instantly on alert. He takes a hand off the wheel, reaching halfway towards Carlos before coming to a halt.

Carlos watches as the hand hangs mid-air for a moment, feeling a twinge under his ribcage when TK drops it back on his lap instead of touching Carlos.

“We were in it,” he realizes, sure of it as something flashes through his mind, and he swears he can feel the heat and smell the smoke.

TK bites down on his bottom lip, his eyes focused on the road. Then, finally, he gives him a sharp nod but says nothing.

“We almost didn’t make it,” he continues, exhaling slowly, trying to bring his racing heart back down. “It messed me up for a while, didn’t it?”

TK pulls into a quiet street with modest two-story houses. He passes four of them before turning into the driveway of a moss-green house with a brown roof. Turning off the car, TK twists in his seat to look at him. “It did,” he answers honestly. “It got really close, and we almost didn’t make it out. We were shaken up for a long time, and as a result, there is a fire extinguisher in just about every room of this house, which you have me check to make sure they’re all in working order every couple of months.”

TK lets out a breath, raising a hand to run it through his hair. “But we got through it, and we found this place,” he points at the house. “And we fell in love with making new memories in it.”

Memories Carlos can’t remember. Neither have to say it out loud; the words ring out through the car regardless.

“It’s green,” he points out for lack of anything else to say. TK smiles, and for the first time since Carlos opened his eyes, it’s not brittle at the edges.

“To match my eyes,” he says softly, his voice sounding far away. He shrugs at him when Carlos gives him a questioning glance. “Your words, man,” he says, smiling again when Carlos wrinkles his nose at him. “Yeah, you’re kind of a sap that way. Come on.”

Carlos follows TK out of the car and up the steps of the house. Standing on the porch, he spots a swing. “My parents’ house has one of those,” he points at the padded bench. “I always wanted one for my house too.”

“I know,” TK says with a slight smile as he looks over at the porch swing. “You told me when we were looking for a new place to live. So I had it installed a few days before we officially moved in to surprise you.”

TK’s smile grows as he gets lost in the memory. “We spent most of our first night here on it instead of opening boxes. Eventually, I started to fall asleep on you, and you – “

TK trails off frowning, shaking his head at himself as he turns back to open the door.

“I what?” he asks. He puts his hand on TK’s forearm to keep him from turning the lock, swallowing when TK’s eyes thunder up to look at him, surprised by his touch. Carlos realizes he hasn’t done that before and resists the instinct to take his hand off. “I what, TK?” he asks again, his voice barely above a whisper.

“You carried me inside and put me to bed,” TK whispers back. He blinks, but that doesn’t keep Carlos from seeing the sudden sheen in his eyes. Clearing his throat, he turns towards the door once more, opening it. “You’ve always been really good about taking care of me.”

TK takes a step forward, and Carlos lets his hold on him slip away. Following him, he finds himself in the middle of a living room painted in light colors instead of the dark walls he remembers from his other place. There are pictures and knick-knacks everywhere, plants at each corner of the room. The place looks well lived-in and busier than his usual style. His face must show some of what he’s thinking because TK snickers.

“Yeah,” he says with a smirk. “It took you a while to get used to my particular brand of chaos.”

Carlos walks over to the fireplace, finding it full of little trinkets. “This is all you?” he questions.

“You have bought me a lot of them,” TK answers with a shrug. He points at a small bronze bee next to a detailed firetruck. “That one you got for me because you thought it matched my tattoo.”

Carlos raises an eyebrow at him as TK just shrugs at him again.

“Like I said, you’ve gotten used to my love for random stuff.”

“You mean I’ve gotten used to the fact that you’re a hoarder,” he tells him, smiling when TK lets out an offended gasp.

“Rude,” TK grumbles, but Carlos is pleased to see it’s said with a smile. TK hasn’t done much of that around him, understandably, and it makes Carlos ridiculously happy to be the cause of it now. It must show by the way TK’s expression softens as he looks at him.

“Do you want me to show you the rest of the house, or do you want to eat something first?” he asks, tilting his head to the side. “You haven’t eaten since the hospital this morning.”

“I could eat,” Carlos answers with a nod, his stomach grumbling at the suggestion. All he had this morning was the muffin on his food tray, too anxious to leave the hospital to eat anything else.

TK nods for him to follow him, leading him towards the kitchen. “You’re in luck. Grace dropped off a casserole last night, so you won’t be subjected to my cooking.”

Carlos leans against a marble counter, looking around at the beautiful kitchen, not a pot out of place, and knows instantly it’s his domain.

“You don’t cook?” he asks, getting a face back as TK pulls a glass dish out of the fridge.

“I mean, I wouldn’t starve,” he says as he turns on the oven, flashing him an amused grin over his shoulder. “And I have picked up some tricks from you. But we’ve both agreed it’s safer for our house and stomachs if you do the bulk of the cooking.”

Carlos smiles at the comment, entertained by it.

“This will take a bit to heat up,” TK gestures towards the oven. “Let me show you the upstairs.”

Carlos nods, trailing TK back out of the kitchen and up a set of stairs. He follows him as he shows him a room that seems to be part guestroom, part library, before continuing towards the end of the hall towards a master bedroom with a large bathroom attached.

“This bedroom is yours. I’ll be sleeping in the other room for now,” TK comments, standing back as Carlos looks around. From the open closet displaying their clothes together to the top of a black drawer with a series of pictures of them. Everything about the room tells the story of their life together.

Carlos picks up a picture frame. In it is a picture of him and TK on vacation going off the beach in the background. TK has a big silly hat on and a coconut drink in his hand, while Carlos has his arm wrapped around him, pressing a kiss into the man’s cheek. Both are smiling wide.

“That was Cancun a year ago,” TK says softly as he comes to stand next to him, looking down at the picture with him. “I surprised you with the trip and had to practically tape my mouth shut to not spill the beans before everything was ready. I’m not very good at keeping secrets, much less from you.”

Carlos looks over at TK, giving him a once-over. “You have no poker face,” he realizes, sure of it. TK proves him right by the startled look he gives him, letting out a huff a moment later.

“You always say that,” he tells him with an eye roll. “I just don’t see a reason to keep anything from my best friend and the love of my life.”

Carlos’ breath catches at TK’s description of him. “Is that what I am to you?”

“Yes,” TK answers without hesitation.

“We look so happy,” he says as he looks back down at the picture. There is no doubt in his mind as he looks at their smiles that he is in love with the man in the photograph.

“We are happy,” TK answers. He wavers for a second but then covers his hand holding the frame, and Carlos feels a shock go through him at the touch. “We have our moments like any other couple, sure, but we’re so damn happy, Carlos.”

Carlos twists towards TK, turning his hand to hold onto his. “I’m sorry,” he blurts out desperately, blinking back the stinging in his eyes at the loss he feels acutely, even if he can’t recall what he’s lost. “I’m sorry I can’t remember us.”

TK shakes his head at him, pulling him into his arms, careful of Carlos’ cast. “This is not your fault,” TK whispers firmly in his ear as he cradles the back of his head. Carlos sinks into his embrace, taking comfort in it. “We’re going to figure this out, Carlos,” TK continues as he pulls back to look at him. “I’m not saying it’s easy to look in your eyes and see very little recognition, but I’m not giving up on you or us.”

Carlos doesn’t know what to say to that, and it seems he doesn’t have to. TK gives him a small smile, pulling out of their hug while Carlos has to bite his tongue to keep from protesting as he loses TK’s touch, leaving him feeling cold.

“Come on,” he says softly, taking a step back. “The casserole should be warmed up by now.”

He follows TK back downstairs, watching him as he moves around their kitchen, serving up their meal, grabbing glasses when he points at the cabinet where they’re kept.

They sit down to eat the casserole quietly. It’s good, but Carlos barely tastes it, more preoccupied with sneaking looks at TK.

“You’re burning holes into me, Reyes,” TK says dryly as he looks up from his plate. “You know you can ask me whatever you want, right?” he questions gently. “I’m an open book. You just have to ask.”

“How did we meet?” Carlos questions instantly, dozens of questions ready to go on the tip of his tongue. TK seems to realize this by the smile on his face.

“On the job,” he says softly. “There was a car accident, a mother and son. We were the answering firehouse; you were the cop on the scene.”

“How long have you been a firefighter?” he asks, causing TK to wrinkle his nose at him.

“I’m not one anymore,” he answers. “I was one for over seven years between New York and here. But after almost a year in Austin, I switched from Fire to Rescue. I’m a paramedic now with Nancy and Tommy. You met them, right?”

Carlos nods, recalling the two women visiting him at the hospital.

“Tommy is my Captain, Nancy, my partner,” he continues with a smile that speaks of fondness for the women in question. “I became a firefighter in large part because I wanted to be like my dad, and I loved being one, but I always felt like something was missing. Becoming a paramedic was like finding the missing piece to the puzzle, you know?”

Carlos gives TK an understanding look, pausing for a moment before he asks his next question. “Did I ask you out, or did you ask me out?”

“Oh man,” TK chuckles, his cheeks turning slightly pink. Reaching for his glass, he takes a sip of water. “You need to understand that we didn’t start so easily as going on a date.”

Carlos raises an eyebrow at that, earning another smile from TK, this one bashful.

“Okay,” he starts, exhaling loudly. “So our story goes like this – ”

Carlos listens as TK tells him of Michelle inviting his team to the local honky-tonk after rescuing the mother and child from the car accident. He tells him about Carlos walking up to him in a ridiculously tight shirt and asking him to dance. He blushes as TK shoots him a look, telling him he looked so hot. And blushes even further when TK tells him of the two of them sneaking off to make out in the bar bathroom, exchanging numbers after kissing each other senselessly before seeing each other two days later and having sex on the floor of Carlos’ old living room.

“Not much time for courting,” he says dryly, unable to keep the smile off his face as TK grins back at him.

“In your defense, you did try to court me,” TK says gently, affection shining in his eyes. “You invited me to a midnight dinner the next night.”

“Oh,” Carlos says, relieved. “That’s better.”

TK winces slightly in return.

“Or not?” he questions, getting a nod back from TK.

“I kind of freaked out on you,” he says, looking deeply sorry. Carlos can’t imagine it could have been so bad if three years later they’re still together, but he waits for TK to explain.

“I had gone through a horrible breakup back home – I was getting ready to propose, and he was cheating on me with some guy from the gym. I wasn’t looking for anything other than some harmless sex, so when you made this lovely dinner for me with flowers and candles, and you looking so fine in a dress shirt and slacks. I turned into a jerk, and the dinner was a bust.”

Carlos quietly processes what TK has just told him. He feels a pang in his chest at the knowledge that TK loved someone else enough to consider marriage. He scoffs quietly at the silly jealousy he feels from it. It’s completely ridiculous to be jealous of some random man from TK’s past when TK is here now in their home with him. He tries not to think too hard about what it means to feel this way when TK is still essentially a stranger to him.

“How did we recover from that?”

TK cringes again, and Carlos has to keep from reaching out and poking his nose as it wrinkles adorably.

“I got arrested, and you were the officer to process me?” TK says in the form of a question, groaning when Carlos’ eyebrows both go up.

“That sounds like a conflict of interest.”

“That’s what I said to you!” TK exclaims, waving a hand at him. “Thank you for finally agreeing with me!”

“Maybe I made sure to get your paperwork when you were brought in,” he suggests, theorizing.

“Do you think you would do that?” TK questions curiously.

“If I really liked you and wanted a reason to talk to you, sure,” he shrugs, knowing that while he’s usually a by-the-book cop, he has an impulsive streak. “And something tells me I did like you enough to do that.”

TK looks away from him, but it doesn’t hide his pleased smile from Carlos. He feels warmed by it again, and wonders just how many times over the years has TK’s smile caused his stomach to flutter.

“So how did getting arrested help us after that dinner gone wrong?” he asks, clearing his throat. “And what did you get arrested for?”

“A bar fight,” TK answers, wincing when he shoots him an unimpressed look. “I know, I know. It was stupid, and trust me, you let me know how stupid you thought it was. But like I said, I was going through a bad breakup, I had relapsed on substances as a result, and I was looking for something to keep my mind off my life being shit that wasn’t alcohol or pills.”

TK sneaks a look at him, holding his breath as he waits for him to react to his confession.

“Are you okay now?” he asks softly, letting out a sigh when TK nods.

“I haven’t used since my relapse,” he answers. “There have been moments of struggle, but I have overcome them.”

“I’m proud of you, TK,” he says as he reaches for his hand, not sure if it’s his place but unable to stop himself.

TK gives him a slight quirk of his lips. “You always say that,” he whispers, offering his hand a squeeze. “And I’ll remind you now that you’re a big reason for my continued sobriety.”

“No – “ he starts to shake his head, freezing when TK grips his hand that much tighter.

“Yes,” TK answers firmly. “You are my biggest champion. Your unwavering faith in me has saved me so many times, sweetheart. I know you don’t remember it now, but you need to know that.”

 ֎֎֎

 TK leaves for the basement after they finish their meal, claiming a need to do laundry. Really Carlos thinks he’s giving him space after the emotionally packed conversation they shared. Either way, Carlos takes the reprieve he’s given. He calls his mother to check in, assuring her he and TK are okay.

She gives him a loaded ‘hmm’ and an amused ‘nothing’ when he asks what’s that about.

After ending the call, he wanders around the house some more. It’s hard to find pieces of the life he does remember, but he figures losing everything in a fire will do that. He takes his time looking at the rest of the pictures around the house. He and TK are attached at the hip in just about all of them, more often than not smiling at each other instead of the camera.

TK comes back upstairs an hour later with a basket full of clean clothes. “Fresh towels,” he proclaims happily. “Just the way you like it for your showers,” he smiles before giving him a curious look. “We’ll have to wrap your arm with plastic for that – are you okay?”

Carlos nods, pointing at the framed photos on the wall. “Just looking,” he answers, pausing as something comes to mind for the first time and feeling silly for it. “Hey, do you know what happened to my phone?”

“It got wrecked in the accident,” TK answers as he crosses towards a cabinet. “But I got it replaced for you, and made sure everything was backed up from the cloud.”

He takes the phone from him, looking at it, and then looks back up at TK, who smiles back at him a little awkwardly. “Your passcode is my birthday,” he answers, rattling off the numbers to him before leaving the room again, heading upstairs with the laundry in hand.

“I really am a sap,” he mumbles to himself, punching in the code. He looks through his old messages first. Some are from his partner Mitchell, there is a recipe link from Paul, and a group message between him, his parents, TK’s father, and TK himself about dinner plans from over a month ago. The conversation between him and TK is endless, with many ‘I love yous’ and ‘be safe’ exchanged. There are also teasing remarks – quite a few racy enough to make his ears feel hot.

He turns to his camera roll and scoffs at himself at the sheer amount of pictures of TK in it.

“What’s that noise for?” TK questions coming back into the living room.

“I might be your stalker,” he answers, waving his phone when TK raises an eyebrow at him. “Pretty sure 90% of my phone is pictures of you, so yeah,” he points a finger at himself. “Stalker.”

TK lets out a laugh, throwing his head back, and Carlos can’t help but stare, transfixed by the image of him. It’s almost unfair how beautiful he is without even trying.

Looking back at him, Carlos can see his green eyes sparkle with amusement.

“You should see my phone,” he says unbothered. “It’s all you, all the time. Nancy teases the crap out of me for it. So we’re pretty even on that front, don’t worry.”

“There are some dirty messages from you here,” he tells him, biting down on his lip when it makes TK smirk, even as he turns a rosy pink.

“I would bet my car that there are more than just dirty messages saved in there from me,” he answers, his smirk growing filthier as Carlos’ eyes widen. “Sometimes you work nights, and I get bored without you,” he tells him, his blush growing stronger. “Bet you haven’t found those pictures yet.”

No, but he sure as hell plans on finding them later when he’s alone, he thinks, going hot himself at the thought. “So you like to tease me,” he questions, earning himself a suggestive chuckle in return.

“As I like to tell you when you call me a tease. It’s not teasing if I deliver,” TK points out, grin firmly in place. “And I always do.”

“Of all the things to forget,” Carlos grumbles, mostly at himself.

TK’s smile slips away, a flash of pain crossing his face before he can hide it away. “It will come back,” he says softly.

Carlos tilts his head, studying him. “You sound so sure.”

TK gives him a gentle shrug of his shoulder in return. “When it comes to us against whatever crap the world throws at us, I’ll place my bet on you and me every single time.”

 ֎֎֎

 Carlos is in the bedroom waiting for TK to finish his shower before he can hop in himself. He smiles as he hears TK sing some song horribly off-key.

“Hey, rockstar,” he calls out when he hears the water shut off, grinning as TK lets out a shouted curse in surprise. He probably figured Carlos was still downstairs. “When you’re done with your concert, can you help me wrap my cast?”

He hears more muffled grumbling that causes him to chuckle at least until TK opens the door. His laughter halting in his throat as he takes in his boyfriend in nothing more than a towel, his chest bare with water droplets running down his defined abs.

“You weren’t supposed to hear that,” he scolds him with a pout on his face that has no right being as charming as it is.

“I understand how we fell into bed so quickly,” he blurts out, blushing as TK raises a questioning eyebrow at him. “You’re stunning,” he continues, unable to hold back the thought. “I must have taken one look at you and just fallen head over heels for you.”

TK stares at him for a moment before shaking his head, a small reluctant smile taking over his face. “Leave it to you to have no memory of us and still manage to be ridiculously romantic,” he huffs, chuckling softly to himself. “You’re dangerous, Reyes.”

“I’m sorry,” Carlos apologizes, feeling awkward. “I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

TK crosses the room, coming to sit down next to him on the bed. “The fact that you’re still attracted to me doesn’t make me uncomfortable. On the contrary, it gives me hope,” he tells him with a half-smile. “Hope that you’ll come back to me here,” he says, tapping a finger against Carlos’ temple. “And here,” he brings his hand down to tap against Carlos’ chest over his heart.

“Don’t give up on me,” Carlos whispers, and even he can hear the pleading quality in his voice.

“Never,” TK answers gently, his green eyes bright and hopeful, and Carlos might not know him well, but he can see the love he feels for him in those eyes – it leaves him breathless. He realizes with a start how badly he wants to lean in, to close the gap between him and TK and see if tasting him will trigger the memories he so desperately wants back. He realizes with alarming clarity that even if he doesn’t remember, he very much wants to know if TK tastes as sweet as he seems.

He takes too long deciding, and when he shifts an inch closer, TK is already grabbing the plastic and medical tape he has on the bed.

“Now, let’s get this wrapped so you can shower,” he says sweetly, reaching for Carlos’ arm. “You’re probably tired after the long day. I bet you go right to sleep afterwards.”

Carlos thinks sleep is probably not coming with his swirling thoughts, but he gives TK a nod anyway.

“I’m going to the farmer’s market tomorrow morning,” TK continues once his arm is wrapped up. “We usually go together on our days off. Think you’re up for it?” he asks, giving Carlos a hopeful look.

Carlos nods again, wanting to keep that look on TK’s face and the bright smile that follows.

“That sounds nice.”

 ֎֎֎

 Carlos leans against the kitchen counter, staring through tired eyes as the coffee machine spits out a robust Colombian roast. Sleep, like he had expected, had been hard to come by the night before, with too many thoughts and too much space in his bed for him to settle in right. He might not remember sleeping with TK in their bed, but he has a feeling his body does, and it rebelled at the idea of TK being in another room away from him.

More than once last night, he had given serious thought to walking over to the guest room and begging TK to come sleep beside him. He hadn’t, and instead spent the night twisting and turning, flashes of moments running through his mind too fast to make a complete picture. It frustrates him while also giving him hope being home with TK will trigger his memories.

He hears footsteps coming down the stairs and turns his head just in time to see a sleepy, shirtless TK come into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes and grumbling.

“Need. Coffee. Now,” he mumbles, passing him, going straight for the coffee maker, only to let out a whine when he sees the pot is nowhere near ready.

“Good morning,” he says dryly, a smile tugging on his face at the adorable image TK makes, pout in full display as he turns to acknowledge him.

“Coffee,” he demands once more.

Carlos opens his mouth to tease him, stopping short as something comes back to him instantly.

He’s in the middle of bringing his cup to his lips when he feels TK slide up behind him, his arms going around his waist, his face tucked between his shoulder blades.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” he says fondly, twisting in TK’s hold to turn to him, smiling at his sleepy expression.

“Woke up without you,” TK pouts, his green eyes narrowed. “On our day off. That’s illegal; arrest yourself right now.”

“If I arrest myself, we can’t spend the day together,” he points out, chuckling as TK gives him a dry look.

“Maybe I just want you in handcuffs,” TK quips, a teasing smile playing on his lips when Carlos raises an eyebrow at him.

“We can play that game if you want. It was a lot of fun the last time,” he challenges back with a smirk of his own when TK lets out a sharp breath at his answer.

“Too early for this,” TK grumbles, his cheeks a pretty pink. “Need coffee.”

“If you let me go, I can get you a cup,” he offers, waiting as TK considers. Finally, his boyfriend shakes his head.

“Nope,” he answers, tucking his face into Carlos’ shoulder, pressing a kiss to his collarbone. “This is better anyway.”

“Hey,” TK snaps his fingers softly in front of his face. When Carlos focuses on him, he finds him looking at him with a curious and slightly worried expression. “Are you okay? Where did you go?”

“Nowhere,” he answers, trying to give TK a smile to ease his worry while inside, he’s reeling. The memory had been as clear as TK standing in front of him now, but more than that, he can remember what he’d been feeling at that moment. The love and adoration he felt for the man in his arms, not wanting to let him go even for a cup of coffee.

“Are you sure?” TK asks again, still concerned.

“Yeah,” he says again, this time his smile coming out a little easier as he wraps himself in the feelings caused by the memory. “Are we still going to the farmer’s market today?”

“Sure,” TK answers as he walks over to the coffee pot that is now full. He pulls out two mugs, pouring them both a cup. “If you’re up to it, that is.”

“I am,” he answers, taking the cup TK offers him. “I thought I could cook this evening,” he suggests, waving his cast at him. “With your help.”

TK shoots him a grin. “Sure, it should be fun to watch you bite your lip to keep from telling me I’m chopping the wrong way.”

“Do you chop the wrong way?” he questions, suddenly concerned.

TK shrugs a shoulder at him. “You seem to think so. You’re always warning me I’m going to cut myself and hover over me like the worrywart you are.”

“I’m suddenly reconsidering letting you help me,” he says honestly, getting another playful grin from TK.

“Too late,” he chirps. “I’m helping. Now I’m gonna head for the shower. We can grab breakfast at this bakery we like near the market.”

Carlos nods in agreement as TK starts to leave the kitchen. He’s about to let him pass when he notices a scar near TK’s left shoulder. “Hey, what is that?” he stops him, bringing a hand to the spot, running a thumb over it. He hears TK’s breath catch, but he ignores it as he realizes with a start what he’s looking at. “Is this a bullet wound, TK?” he asks, his voice coming out higher than usual.

He stares at TK with wide eyes as the man lets out a wince.

“Yeah…see what happened was – “

 ֎֎֎

 “So you’re telling me you have been shot at and kidnapped?” he questions for the third time since TK finished retelling him his unfortunate work calls. Since then, they’ve stopped by the bakery TK mentioned, bought their breakfast – a spinach pie for him and a cherry cheese Danish for TK, and now are walking around the market, reusable grocery bags in hand. Carlos is still at a loss, having trouble understanding how TK can recall the moments so calmly. When Carlos on the other hand, is quietly freaking out and wondering how to hide TK away from the world hellbent on injuring him.

“Yes,” TK answers simply, lifting his hand to offer him half his Danish. “Trade? We usually do because you like the last taste in your mouth to be sweet.”

He distractedly takes the offered pastry, giving TK the last bit of his pie.

“Do I have blood pressure issues?” he questions, looking over at TK as he pops the last bit of food in his mouth. “I feel like I have to because my BP is skyrocketing right now.”

“So dramatic,” TK scoffs, rolling his pretty eyes at him. “As if I would let you have high blood pressure. My dad is a health nut. If you had a high BP, there would be no salt in the house,” he continues with a cheeky smile that makes Carlos huff.

“Cute,” he says sarcastically. “Have I tried to bubblewrap you? I think drastic measures need to be taken here to keep you safe.”

He winces as his voice goes a little manic at the end there, causing TK to stop walking, the amused but exasperated smile on his face dropping.

“Hey,” he starts softly, reaching out to touch Carlos’ wrist, pressing the pads of his fingers against his pulse point, squeezing gently, helping Carlos center himself. “I’m okay,” he says slowly, his eyes locking with Carlos’.

“Yes, they were scary moments, ones I would rather not repeat. But when I was shot, you were there every day waiting for me to wake up.” TK squeezes his wrist again, making sure he’s listening. “And when I got kidnapped, you figured out where we were, and you rescued me.”

“I did?” he asks breathlessly. Leave it to TK to get to the root of Carlos’ freak out. The thought of TK hurt or in danger and Carlos helpless to save him.

“You did,” TK answers. He lets go of Carlos’ wrist, but Carlos instinctively takes his hand before he can get too far.

“Is this okay?” he whispers, holding his breath as he waits for TK to decide if he should pull his hand away or not. He watches his eyes flicker between their joined hands and Carlos’ face, a flash of something too close to sorrow playing over his features for a second. He’s just about to pull away himself and apologize to TK when he links their fingers together, giving Carlos a slight smile.

“Yeah, sweetheart, of course it’s okay,” he whispers back, his smile more honest and less pained. “Take this as a blanket invitation to touch me when you want or need, okay?”

Carlos startles at the offer, staring at TK as he looks back at him.

TK shakes his head softly at him. He reaches up, touching Carlos’ temple gently with his other hand. “This is hard for me,” he admits, brushing one of Carlos’ curls into place. “But I can’t even begin to imagine what’s going on in your head. How scared you must be to have all these missing pieces in your memory. So yeah, Carlos, if holding my hand brings you any kind of comfort, if touching me helps center you, feel free to touch me anytime the urge hits.”

Carlos can’t speak in the face of such an offer when he knows TK hurts every moment Carlos doesn’t remember their life together.

“That might not be fair to you.”

TK gives him another gentle smile, his eyes shining with what Carlos can only call love. “You let me worry about what’s fair to me,” he tells him before wrinkling his nose at him sweetly. “Besides, I’ve never said no to your hands on me, and I’m not about to start now.”

They stay like that, neither moving as they get lost in the moment. It’s only when a sharp whistle pierces the air that TK breaks their eye contact, twisting around to find the source. Carlos doesn’t recognize the elderly woman waving at them from a few stalls away, but TK obviously does by the low noise he lets out.

“Shit,” he mutters, looking back at him. “That’s Martha; we buy jam and honey from her. She’s very old and very sweet and is extremely fond of us. She’s gonna take one look at your arm and fuss, and if we tell her about your memory issues – “

“She’s not going to take it too well?” Carlos finishes for him, getting a nod in return. “Okay,” he says, understanding TK is suggesting they pretend everything is fine. “Martha, you said?”

“Yeah,” TK bites down on his lip nervously.

Carlos gives TK’s fingers a gentle tug. “Let’s go say hello and get some jam. Does she have apricot?” he questions as they start to make their way over to her stall.

TK lets out a breath, smiling slightly as he leans into Carlos’ side. “Yes, she has apricot jam, which she always lets you taste even though we buy it from her all the time.”

“I like her already,” he says honestly. He can see the woman better now. He can see the happy smile on her face as they approach, followed by concern as her eyes stray to his arm.

“Carlos Reyes,” she gasps once they are close enough. “What in the world happened to you?”

“Car accident,” he says as she comes around her stall to get closer. He stands still as she touches his arm and then his cheek with gentle wrinkled hands as she peers up at him.

“Oh my dear boy,” she says softly, her tone caring like a grandmother. “Are you okay?”

He gives her a nod, tilting his head towards TK. “This one over here is taking very good care of me,” he says with a playful waggle of his eyebrows, smiling when she lets out a whistling laugh, her concern easing at his teasing.

“I’m sure he is,” she says with a laughing tone of her own. She turns towards TK, holding out her hands to him. TK places his hands in hers, holding on as she gives them a gentle squeeze. “You okay, dear?”

“Yeah, I’m okay, Martha,” TK answers her softly, sneaking a look at him. “He’s alive and whole, and that’s all that matters to me.”

Martha studies both of them with a gentle look. “Sweet boys,” she whispers. She pats TK’s hands again before letting go of them. “Your love is so special,” she continues with a smile that is then followed by a pointed look. “Beautiful, even though I see no rings yet.”

TK groans out the woman’s name through a tired smile. He looks amused, but it doesn’t hide the gentle blush taking over his face. “We’ve talked about this, Martha,” he reminds her, sneaking a look at him again before focusing on the older woman. “We’re happy the way we are, for now, there is no need to – “

“Rush things,” Martha finishes for TK, rolling her eyes at him. “Blah, blah, blah,” she mocks with her hand.

“Martha!” TK exclaims with a surprised laugh. Carlos looks away, not knowing what to say. He can feel his heart tick up at the subject. Obviously, it’s one the older woman is used to commenting on going off TK’s response, and Carlos wonders what his usual answer is. He doesn’t know. All he knows is that the mention of rings – his on TK’s finger, makes his stomach do a somersault.

“Young people,” Martha mutters as she opens a jar of jam, spreading some over a cracker before passing it over to him.

He takes it from her, popping it into his mouth, letting out a pleased sound as the sweet taste fills his senses. “Delicious,” he says to her, causing her to beam back at him. “Best jam ever.”

“If you put a ring on this boy’s finger already, I might give you my secret recipe,” she says to him, grinning brightly as he feels his face go red.

“Oh my god, Martha,” TK mumbles, turning his face to hide it into Carlos’ shoulder.

Carlos instinctively pulls him closer, trying to shield him from his own embarrassment.

Martha sighs deeply, pursing her lips at them. “Just the jam then?”

 ֎֎֎

 They get home past noon. The ride back is quiet and a little uncomfortable. Martha’s teasing prompting some new questions Carlos is itching to ask.

“I left some chicken out for a southwest salad for lunch?” TK tells him as they place their groceries on the counter. “What do you say?”

“Sounds good,” he answers as he takes out the avocados from the bag, separating the two ripe ones for the salad.

“Great,” TK says, flashing him a strained smile. He starts pulling out what he needs from the cupboards, beans, and corn, while Carlos gets the rest from the fridge.

They work together around the kitchen quietly, Carlos’ assistance limited by his arm. Finally, as TK cooks the chicken on a cast iron skillet, he can’t hold in his questions any longer.

“Have we talked about it?” he asks, holding his breath when TK shoots him a knowing look.

“We haven’t planned anything officially,” he answers, not needing Carlos to clarify his question. “But you know how much I love you, and I know how much you love me. We both know we want to spend the rest of our lives together. There is no doubt about that.”

Carlos takes in a sharp breath at the certainty he hears in TK’s voice as he speaks about their commitment to each other in the present tense, not in the past before Carlos’ accident. TK’s absolute belief in them is humbling, and Carlos is left in awe that someone loves him as much as TK does.

It must show on his face by the way TK’s expression softens. He reaches out, touching Carlos’ side gently for a moment, offering him comfort.

“The chicken is done,” he says as he pulls his hand back.

Carlos doesn’t say anything. Instead, he just watches TK move around the room, getting their salads ready. He takes the plate offered, heading for the dining room table, following TK.

“I have a shift tomorrow,” TK tells him as they eat. “But Captain Vega said I can call out if you need me here with you.”

He looks at him questioningly, but Carlos is already shaking his head. “I don’t want you to miss work because of me,” he tells him. It’s bad enough that he’s on leave for the next few weeks due to his arm and head injury. “I’m healthy enough to be left on my own.”

TK opens his mouth like he wants to argue, pausing when Carlos gives him a pleading look. “Okay then,” he says softly, agreeing. “I’ll tell her I’m good to go, but I’m gonna check in on you.”

Carlos nods.

“A lot,” TK warns him, and this time Carlos smiles.

“I expect nothing less,” he answers softly, affection spreading through him for the man before him.

 ֎֎֎

 They spend the rest of the afternoon and evening lounging around. Carlos’ parents call again, this time facetiming. He and TK press against each other as they talk to them, and Carlos catches the smiles his folks throw their way more than once.

“My parents seem to really like you,” he comments later as they lay back on the couch watching TV. They’re watching the end of an episode of house hunters, and TK has been complaining about the couple and their ridiculously high expectations for most of it. “How did that happen?”

TK turns to him, raising both eyebrows in challenge. “I’m sorry, do you not find me charming enough to win over Gabriel and Andrea Reyes?” he asks with a teasing smirk on his face. “Because I’ll have you know they adore me. Big fans of TK Strand those two.”

Carlos rolls his eyes even as he smiles. “I know. I can tell they love you,” he answers. “And I know you’re charming. You’ve already captivated me, and I’ve only been home two days with you.”

TK looks away from him at that, but Carlos can see the corners of his mouth tug upward anyway.

“I just remember how it used to be between my folks and me when it came to my private life,” he continues though he wants to forget the subject and focus on the smile on TK’s face. He wants to reach out and trace it with his thumb, hating how it drops as he continues. “I guess I don’t understand how we got to this point with them.”

“That’s probably more of a conversation you should have with your folks,” TK answers delicately as he fidgets with his fingers. “But I will say that though it took time, once they knew about us, they were very happy with our relationship, and it greatly improved your own relationship with them. That old hurt you’re remembering of not being able to share your life with them, that mended over time.”

“Thanks to you,” he answers softly, sure of it deep in his bones that TK had everything to do with it.

TK doesn’t deny it; he just gives him a kind smile. “I always have your back,” he tells him. “Just like you have mine.”

Carlos wants to say thank you, but it doesn’t feel nearly enough. The smile TK gives him lets him know he hears it anyway.

“I’m gonna hop in the shower,” TK says as he stands up from the couch. “When I get out, I’ll wrap your arm for you, okay?”

He gives him a nod and watches as he heads upstairs. He waits for a few minutes before he too gets up, turning off the TV and the lights, punching in the security code TK wrote down for him before heading upstairs himself.

A few minutes pass before TK comes out of the shower and into the bedroom, this time in a pair of sleeping shorts and a t-shirt, disappointingly not like the night before with just a towel around him.

“I didn’t even ask how you slept last night,” he says, running a towel over his head, looking at Carlos expectantly.

Carlos goes to tell him he slept fine, not wanting to burden him, but can’t bring himself to lie. “The bed is too big,” he says instead, getting a sympathetic look back from TK.

“We have slept together for a long time now,” he says softly. “We are used to our bodies next to each other. I didn’t get great sleep in the guestroom either,” he admits.

“You could – “ Carlos stops himself, biting down on his lip as his heart starts to race at the same thought he’s had since the night before. He can tell by the way TK’s eyes widen that he knows what he wants to say.

“Yeah?” he questions, pausing hesitantly as he licks his lips. “You wouldn’t be uncomfortable with me in bed with you?”

He lets out a small huff as he closes his eyes for a moment. When he opens them, he can’t help but smile. “I might not remember a lot of stuff right now. But I know for a fact that you have never made me feel uncomfortable, that much I do know.”

He tilts his head to the side as he studies the way TK has gone shy. “What about you? Will you be uncomfortable if we share the same bed?”

“More like relieved,” TK blurts out, going rosy in the cheeks as he speaks. “It’s been a long two weeks without you, sweetheart.”

His eyes darken for a moment, and Carlos feels his breath catch.

“Okay then,” he whispers, swallowing hard as his stomach clenches with anticipation, feeling a fundamental shift between them. “It’s settled.”

 ֎֎֎

 He takes his time in the shower, and by the time he comes out, TK has settled into his side of the bed, his eyes half-closed as they follow him around the room that is dark except for his bedside lamp. It casts a low yellow glow that gives the space a dream-like quality.

“You should know I have been known to cling to you like a koala in the middle of the night,” he warns him sleepily as Carlos gets under the covers. It sounds nice, and he tells TK that, earning a tired chuckle in return.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he sighs out as he turns to his side, facing Carlos with his eyes closed.

Carlos mimics him, turning towards him without turning off the lights just yet, his face inches away from TK’s. He doesn’t mean to stare at him, but he can’t help himself. This is the closest he’s had TK since this started, and he can’t help but want to take him in. He must be staring too hard because after a few minutes, TK’s eyes flutter open. They’re tired but bright in the darkened room. Like two beacons of light, they pull Carlos in. He inches closer until his forehead is pressed against TK’s. Their breathing is loud and heavy, and Carlos can feel every puff that passes TK’s lips touch his face.

He reaches up, giving in to the impulse from earlier, running a trembling finger over TK’s mouth, finding it as soft as he imagined.

“Carlos,” TK whispers, and when Carlos looks up from his mouth, he finds his pupils blown wide.

TK lifts a hand, grabbing at his bicep to pull him closer.

“Are you sure?” he questions even as he wraps an arm around TK’s waist, pulling him tight against his body, his heart racing at the soft moan TK lets out in response.

“If you don’t kiss me, I’m going to lose my mind,” TK mutters, pressing his forehead harder against Carlos’.

Carlos lets out a low groan right as he covers TK’s mouth with his own.

It’s not a tentative kiss.

He might not remember their first, but his mouth and body seem to have no such problem as he sinks his tongue into TK’s mouth. Desperate from the first taste for more.

TK gives as good as he gets; he licks and bites on Carlos’ bottom lip, smiling into the kiss as it makes Carlos gasp. Then, he presses a smaller, gentler one over the sting to soothe it, and this time Carlos’ toes curl at the sweetness of the gesture.

“I must want to kiss you all the damn time,” Carlos whispers frantically as he clings to TK. It gets him a soft, loving laugh from his boyfriend as their kisses slow down to a gentle back and forth of their lips.

“The feeling is very mutual, sweetheart,” he tells him, giving him one last kiss, followed by two smaller ones at the corners of his mouth. He pulls back then, reaching over Carlos’ side to turn off the light. They settle in for the night, neither pulling away from each other’s arms.

He feels TK fall asleep even as he remains wide awake and accepts another sleepless night as TK gets even closer, his face tucked away into Carlos’ neck.

With TK in his arms, this one is already a hundred times better than the night before.

 ֎֎֎

 Carlos is in the middle of mindlessly channel surfing when there is a knock at the door. Most of his morning has been aimless with nothing to do but think of TK and them waking up together in a tangle of limbs.

He had woken up to his breath being stolen by the beauty of a sleeping TK. He’d been helpless but to stare and study every detail of his face, committing it to memory, wondering how in the world he could ever forget such a perfect picture in the first place. Twenty minutes later, right before his alarm went off, TK’s eyes had fluttered open to find his gaze on him. The smile that took over TK’s face as he teasingly called him a weirdo for staring had caused something to squeeze tight under Carlos’ ribcage with a feeling he didn’t dare speak out loud yet.

Getting up from the couch, he opens the door to find his mother on the other side with a bakery box in her hands.

“Conchas?” she asks with a bright smile as she shakes the box back and forth.

Carlos smiles, giving her a head tilt toward the inside of the house, kissing her on the cheek as she comes in.

They head for the kitchen, and Carlos silently starts the coffee machine before pulling a jar of Nutella out of the cupboard.

“You remember that,” she says with a pleased smile as she grabs a knife and starts cutting the conchas down the middle to spread the Nutella over it.

“Mmhmm,” he nods, leaning against the counter, waiting for the coffee to brew.

She passes him a half of the sweet bread with a smile. “How’s it going, cariño?” she questions, her brow wrinkled with worry.

Carlos chews on his concha as he tries to think how to answer that. Physically he’s okay; his arm is healing, and he should have his cast off in a few weeks. Even mentally, the doctors aren’t terribly concern. They’re sure his memory will come back, and given the small but frequent flashes he’s had, he’s inclined to believe them.

Just this morning, he’d made TK’s banana and peanut butter shake – made with oat milk, two tablespoons of creamy peanut butter, and half a scoop of protein powder. TK had taken a sip from it, smiling as he told him it was precisely how he liked it, pausing for a moment as he realized Carlos remembered how to make it before his smile grew even larger. He was remembering, it was slow, but it was happening.

He could tell his mother all of that, but that wasn’t what was on his mind. What’s on his mind is the feel of TK’s mouth against his the night before and then this morning as he let him kiss him before he left for work. What’s on his mind is how right it felt to hold TK as they slept. What is on his mind is how TK’s smile or laugh causes Carlos to go warm all over.

“I think I’m falling in love, Mami,” he says softly, holding his breath once he’s let the words out.

Andrea puts down her treat, wiping her face with a napkin. When she lowers it, Carlos can see the hints of a smile playing on her face. “Well, I hope it’s with your boyfriend, or else this is going to get really awkward for you.”

“Mami,” Carlos groans at her teasing, getting a delighted laugh in return. He pushes off the counter to turn off the coffee maker, pouring the hot liquid into two mugs. “You don’t look particularly surprised by what I just said.”

Andrea smiles at him as she takes the mug he offers her. “Why would I be?” she questions. “Like temporary amnesia is going to destroy what you and TK have? Por favor.”

“What do we have?” he questions, curious to know how his mother sees his relationship with TK. If she really approves.

His mother seems to understand. She places her mug down, crossing the distance between them until she’s standing in front of him, taking his face in her hands.

“I will always regret not asking you more after you came out to us,” she starts, shaking her head when he goes to speak. “You were just a kid, my sweet boy, scared of what we would think, and we messed up so bad. Your father and I thought the best way to let you know it was fine was by acting like nothing had changed, when of course everything had changed for you. We should have asked about your romances, about your heartbreaks.”

“Mami,” he whispers, his heart in his throat as his mother gives him a sad smile.

“We didn’t realize we were hurting you by keeping quiet,” she continues. “I love TK as if he was my own, Carlitos, for a lot of reasons, but two above all.”

Carlos bites down on his lip, waiting for her to tell him her reasons.

“One,” she says with a teary smile. “Him coming into your life gave us a chance to fix our mistakes with you. He became so important to you, you couldn’t keep him from us, and as a result, we got to meet him, know him and get to know you too. The you we had been missing out with our ignorance, and I am so grateful for that.”

“And the second reason?” he asks, swallowing hard around the lump of emotion that has formed in his throat as he starts to get a picture of how he and his parents overcame years of silence about his personal life.

“The second reason answers your original question,” she says with a growing smile that is both loving and proud. “What you and TK have – it’s what I have always wanted for you since I first held you.”

With her hold on his face, she makes sure his eyes are locked with hers, letting Carlos see how sincere she’s being.

“You two have the type of love I always wished for you. Kind, patient, incredibly loving and tender, and above all else, genuine. You, telling me that you’re falling in love with TK all over again isn’t surprising in the least, mi niño. It was the only direction this story could go.”

 ֎֎֎

 Carlos waves at his mother as she drives away after dropping him off at the firehouse. He walks through the bay doors, finding both fire engines parked but an empty space where the rescue 126 rig should be. He sees a few of the faces that visited him while in the hospital over by the back of the firehouse but hesitates about approaching them.

“Carlos? What are you doing here? Are you okay?”

Carlos turns around at the voice to find the fire captain – TK’s father, his brain supplies, coming towards him with a concerned frown on his face.

“Captain Strand,” he greets him with a nervous smile as the older man’s frown deepens.

“We worked long and hard getting you comfortable enough to call me Owen,” he says with a shake of his head. “I know you can’t remember that we get along great right now, but please, let’s not revert to Captain or sir, I beg of you. It’s just Owen.”

“I’m sorry, sir – shit – Owen,” he gets out, cringing a bit as he feels like a school kid in trouble with the teacher. “I’ll work on it.”

“That’s all I ask,” Owen tells him with a smile that doesn’t hide his amusement in the least. “What brings you by? Not that you’re not welcome anytime, of course.”

“I was restless at home,” he answers with a shrug as he looks around the place. “I figured I’d come and visit TK, but – “ he trails off.

“He and his team are answering a call,” Owen finishes for him, his smile growing fond and meaningful. It makes Carlos want to squirm under the man’s watchful eye.

“What?” he blurts out finally as Owen seems to grow even more amused with him.

The captain lets out a chuckle, holding his hands up in a silent apologetic gesture. “It’s just that nothing has changed. You might have trouble remembering a lot of things right now, but you still seek TK out when you’re anxious.”

“How do you know I’m anxious?” he questions, surprised. He gets a sympathetic fatherly look from Owen that seems vaguely familiar in the back of his mind.

“Because you and I are friends,” he answers, slapping his back gently as he gestures towards the kitchen with a tilt of his head, asking him to follow him.

Carlos does, sitting on one of the stools when Owen points to it.

“And hopefully someday soon we’ll be family,” he continues with a smirk when Carlos jerks his head up to stare at him. “Officially anyway, we’re already family.”

Carlos doesn’t say anything as Owen pulls a slim pitcher with green gunk in it out of the fridge.

“I’m usually a good listener,” the fire captain tells him, placing a glass of the green liquid in front of him. “You and I talk sometimes.”

Carlos brings the glass to his mouth, taking a sip, instantly making a face that causes Owen to snort.

“You usually hide your distaste for my power greens smoothies better,” he says to him, laughing when Carlos scowls.

“You know I hate it and still offer it to me?” he questions, getting a cheeky grin and a nod.

“Just waiting for the day you finally have the guts to tell me you don’t like it.”

“Well, that day has arrived, Owen,” he says dryly, even as he blushes in the face of the older man’s enjoyment.

“At last,” Owen smirks, and it’s so reminiscent of TK it forces Carlos to smile back reluctantly.

“Strand men, troublemakers to the core,” he mutters, his eyes widening moments later. “I remember that,” he whispers, catching Owen’s eyes. “You two are brats.”

“Hey, now,” Owen says with faux offense, even as he looks at him brightly and hopefully. “Hurtful, truthful, but hurtful.”

Carlos huffs, shaking his head with amusement.

“You’re starting to remember,” Owen says kindly, his expression softening as he says it, relieved as Carlos gives him a nod. “That’s so good, kid. We all miss you, but especially my son.”

Carlos licks his lips nervously, parting them to speak when the beeping of the ambulance coming back echoes through the place.

“Speak of the devil,” Owen says quietly, the corners of his mouth tilting upward. “Go on then. He’s who you came to see, and I know he’ll be happy to see your face. He’s been worried all day about being away from you.”

Carlos quickly gets up, flashing Owen a grateful look before heading back towards the front of the firehouse. He watches as TK’s partner and Captain joke with him for a moment before heading off together, leaving TK alone by the rig.

“Hey,” he calls out, watching as TK’s head snaps up at his voice.

“Hi,” TK says back, walking over to him quickly. “Are you okay? Did something happen? Are you hurt?”

“Hey, hey, hey,” he says softly, touching TK’s bicep, running his hand up and down his arm. “I’m fine. Nothing is wrong,” he continues, pulling TK towards him as his shoulders drop in relief. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he whispers, wrapping his good arm around TK, holding him to his chest. “I just missed you and wanted to see your face.”

TK pulls back just enough to look up at him from where he has tucked his face into Carlos’ chest. “Really?” he whispers, his green eyes bright and oh so pretty.

“Yeah,” he answers, licking his lips, his stomach clenching as TK tracks the movement, and he wonders if it’s okay for him to kiss TK here. If now that they have kissed, he can just kiss him when the urge hits. He thinks probably not, or he would be kissing TK nonstop seeing as the urge seems to always be there.

Instead, he takes a small step back to resist the urge to give in to the temptation and says. “Let’s go out tonight.”

TK raises an eyebrow at him, a small, shy smile playing on his lips. “Like a date?” he questions, his smile blossoming when Carlos nods.

“Yeah,” he exhales to calm down his sudden nerves. “Let’s go out on a date.”

“Okay,” TK grins, looking giddy. “I get off at 7. I’ll pick you up. I know exactly where to go.”

 ֎֎֎

 “This is really where you want to have our date?” Carlos asks dubiously as TK parks in the middle of an empty field – the burgers and fries they had picked up in a brown bag on his lap.

TK kills the engine, flashing him a grin as he unhooks his seatbelt. “It’s a special place for us,” he says mysteriously as he opens his door, stepping out of the car and grabbing their drinks. “Come on,” he motions for him to follow him to the back.

Popping the flatbed, Carlos finds a blanket laid out on the back of the truck.

“You prepped for this,” he comments, smiling when TK gives him a shy shrug of his shoulders. He takes the food from Carlos to allow him to get in first, following him seconds later.

“This is nice,” he says softly, looking around, picking at a loose thread of the blanket underneath them while TK unwraps their food. “Why is this place special for us?” he asks curiously. The field is elevated, and over the edge, there is a nice view of the city.

“This is where you and I officially started,” TK answers him as he looks up at the night sky. “We laid on top of your car looking at the sky and really began that night.”

Carlos looks up at the sky too. They’re far enough from the city that the stars gleam brightly. They’re beautiful, but Carlos just knows they were stunning the night TK is talking about.

Different shades of blue and green streak through the sky, lighting it up above them. They’re one of the most beautiful things he’s ever seen. So stunning, and yet they pale in comparison to the man resting next to him on the hood of his car.

He looks up because he’s supposed to and has to resist the urge of turning his head towards what he really wants to be looking at.

“What are you thinking?” he asks finally, holding his breath as he waits for an answer.

“I’m thinking,” TK starts to say, his voice soft but pleased. “We make a pretty good team.”

Carlos’ breath catches his throat, a thread of hope spreading through him before he can tell himself to rein it in. Finally, he allows himself to turn his head, looking at TK, finding him smiling up at the sky.

“We really do, don’t we?” he asks, his heart skipping a beat as TK turns to face him, his smile growing the longer he looks at Carlos.

“’fraid so,” he whispers as he reaches for Carlos’ hand, intertwining their fingers together before he brings their hands to rest over his stomach.

Carlos blinks, but the memory doesn’t fade. If anything, it gleams brighter. He remembers leaning in closer to TK until their mouths were but a whisper away from each other. He remembers the half-moan-half-grumble TK let out the longer their lips didn’t touch until Carlos was chuckling into their kiss – moaning himself when TK licked into his mouth, pent-up passion engulfing them after weeks of being something like friends.

“You with me?” TK questions curiously as he takes a sip from his soft drink.

“We make a pretty good team,” he answers and watches as TK’s hand freezes midway to the fries between them. His green eyes snap to his, fearful, hopeful, and everything else in between as he stares at him.

“You remember that?” he questions, and Carlos can tell he’s holding his breath as he waits for Carlos to answer. So he does.

“We made out on the hood of my car like teenagers,” he says with a smile as the memory plays again. “You almost pulled on your stitches. I warned you that if you pulled them out again, you were going to have to call your father and explain how it happened.”

“I was excited,” TK grumbles, giving him a pout. “Making out with you is the most fun I have ever had making out with anyone. The stitches were fine but you invoking my dad totally killed the mood.”

“No, it didn’t,” Carlos counters with a grin. He pushes the food away so he can get closer to TK until their faces are only inches apart. “You kept kissing me. We kissed at every red light from here to your dad’s place, and then when we got there, we made out for another ten minutes until he turned the living room lights on and off.”

“That was so embarrassing,” TK groans, leaning his head forward to let it rest against Carlos’. They stay like that for a moment, their eyes locked on each other.

“You remember that night,” TK breathes out in awe. “It’s coming back.”

Carlos nods, his nose rubbing against TK’s as he does so. “It’s coming back, TK,” he whispers back, swallowing hard as he lets himself ask for what he fears the most. “Please don’t stop loving me.”

 ֎֎֎

 Carlos wakes up after ten. It’s later than he’s used to, but with still being on leave at least until he’s out of his cast, he allows himself the indulgence of a late morning. He lets his good arm reach over to TK’s side of the bed. It’s empty, he knows, remembering the touch of TK’s lips to his forehead earlier in the morning before he left for work. Still, he touches the cool sheets, turning to press his face into TK’s pillow, breathing in his boyfriend’s scent, smiling to himself as he remembers the night before.

They’d come home after their date out in the field, kissing at every red light just like the first time, and by the time they pulled into the driveway, Carlos was vibrating out of his skin with desire.

He all but sprained his neck, nodding his consent when TK asked him if he was sure he wanted them to be intimate before his full memory came back. The smile on TK’s lips as he let out a soft chuckle was worth how red in the face he turned at his own eagerness.

He lets out an exhale, his good hand sliding down his body to cup himself through his sleep pants as he relives the night before.

TK helping him out of his clothes, laying gentle kisses over every inch of bare skin – he had laid back on the bed, his heart racing as TK took his own clothes off before he straddled his thighs, kissing him until he was a shaking mess underneath him. Only then had TK reached over to grab supplies out of the bedside table. And if he thought making out with TK was hot, nothing had prepared him for watching TK open himself up slowly for him with wet fingers, eyes fluttering shut, soft moans escaping his kiss-bruised lips as he found the right spot that made his thighs clench around Carlos’.

By the time TK was ready, reaching back to take him in his hand, lining him up to his opening, Carlos had been pleading, needing to be inside TK more than he has needed anything in his life.

Carlos lets out a low moan, tightening his hold on himself as he remembers the complete bliss he felt as TK sank down on him, taking in every last inch while Carlos stared up at him in awe as he started to move his hips.

Never in his life has he felt more connected to another person than to TK the night before.

He continues to picture it, recalling every beautiful sound TK made as he pushed them higher and higher, right up to the edge until he curved his body over Carlos’, his forehead pressed against his, his eyes wide as he stared down at him.

“I’m never going to stop loving you, Carlos,” TK whispered, drawing out a whimper from Carlos as he rolled his hips again. “Ever, I can promise you that. You can remember our life tomorrow or never again. I’ll always love you.”

Carlos comes in his fist with TK’s voice echoing in his ears just as he had done the night before. TK’s sureness of his love for him tipping him over the edge.

He lays there for a few minutes, waiting for his heart to stop racing before he gets up to clean himself. Without TK there to wrap his arm, it takes him longer to hop in the shower, but he manages. He has another week and a half with the cast on and honestly can’t wait to have it removed.

Once out of the shower, he’s looking through his dresser for clothes when his phone rings. Picking it up, he smiles as TK’s face appears on the caller ID.

“Hey,” he says, smiling into the speaker, his stomach doing a flip at TK’s voice, and he would roll his eyes at his silly schoolboy with a crush reaction if he wasn’t so happy and in love with the man on the other side of the phone.

“Hi,” TK says softly back, going quiet for a moment, and Carlos can just picture him biting down on his bottom lip. “I just wanted to check in with you. I had to leave for work early, and you were still mostly asleep. We didn’t get a chance to talk after last night, and I wanted to see how you were feeling this morning.”

Carlos smiles into the phone at the concern for him he hears in TK’s voice and wonders how he got so lucky to have such a caring partner.

“I’m good,” he answers as he keeps looking for a shirt he wants to wear. “I’m great, actually,” he continues honestly. “Last night was amazing.”

“No regrets?” TK questions hesitantly, causing Carlos to let out a snort.

“Only that we didn’t do that the night I came home,” he answers, grinning when TK lets out a laugh.

He pulls out a green shirt, throwing it on the bed with the jeans he’s already picked out. Then, opening the top drawer, he sticks his hand in to grab a pair of fresh underwear and socks, frowning when his hand finds a small hard box.

“I’m sorry, what did you say?” he asks, and TK repeats himself as he suggests they do a movie night when he’s done with work. Carlos makes a sound of agreement as he stares at the small black box in his hand, his head racing as he realizes what it is.

A ring box.

“That sounds great,” he says, distracted, whispering a goodbye when TK tells him he has to go.

Ending the call, he places his phone down before focusing on the little box in his hand. He holds his breath as he opens the box to find a simple but beautiful wedding band, white gold or platinum, with a strip of small diamonds around it. On the inside is engraved ‘Eternally yours, te amo.’

The words hit him hard, and he has to take a seat at the edge of the bed as he realizes with startling clarity what he’s holding in his hand is his ring for TK.

He already knew he loved TK, has been falling for him all over again despite his lack of memory, and now, in his hand is the proof of just how much he loves him.

A hot tear lands on the hand holding the ring before he realizes he’s started crying, and by the time he reaches up to touch his face, he’s sobbing. It feels like the dam breaking after weeks of not even noticing it was filling up in the first place.

He cries over the moments he’s lost and is terrified he won’t get back. He cries as he realizes he could have lost so much more if he hadn’t made it out of the accident. He cries for TK, because if he feels this broken over a life he can’t remember well, he can only imagine what TK feels remembering it all. He cries in hope. Hope that forgotten life will come flooding back at some point. Finally, he cries in relief as TK’s voice promising to love him forever echoes again. Relief that even if the past doesn’t come back to him by some cruel twist of fate, he and TK still have a future.

He cries, and cries and cries some more, letting every last bit of it out.

 ֎֎֎

 If someone had asked Carlos how he thought he would get his memory back, he’s pretty sure his answer wouldn’t have been ‘on a random Thursday morning while brushing his teeth,’ but that’s precisely how it happens. He’s finished his shower, happy to no longer need to wrap his arm in plastic after having his cast removed a few days earlier.

It’s been three weeks since finding his engagement ring for TK and the minor breakdown that followed. He didn’t tell TK of either thing, not wanting him to worry or make him sad at his discovery. He knows it’s not the right time just as much as he knows that eventually, he’s going to put that ring on TK’s finger, memory back or not. He’s in love with his boyfriend – has fallen for him all over again.

His doctors are happy with his progress and the memories that are starting to seep through more and more as the days go on. They promise him if he just keeps living his life, doing what he usually does, they will all come back soon enough.

Carlos believes them, but he’s still surprised as he stares at his reflection, and it all comes back in an almost blinding flash. One second it’s not there, and then the next it is. He spits out the toothpaste in his mouth, barely passing a wet hand over it before he’s running out of the bathroom and down the stairs, tripping in his need to find the one person he needs the most right now.

“Scramble eggs for breakfast? We should probably go grocery shopping today since I’m off,” TK says to him as he turns to face him with a cup of coffee in his hand.

“TK stands for Tyler Kennedy,” he blurts out, watching as TK makes a face at the name before he realizes what he’s said, and his eyes widen. “And you always make that put-out face when I use it, but it’s followed by a smile because as much as you hate your name, you like it when I say it.”

“Carlos – “ TK whispers as he puts down his mug, and he can see it shaking slightly.

“When you are nervous or restless, you chew on the strings of your hoodies,” he continues. “And you bitch about Texas pizza, claiming it’s not real pizza because it’s not from New York.”

“Oh my god,” TK exhales, bringing a hand to his mouth as his eyes fill with tears.

Carlos swallows around the lump in his throat as his own eyes sting. “You play with my hair when I’ve had a hard day. You blush when I turn my cow eyes as you like to call them on you, and I love that I can make you blush even after three years.”

“You remember?” TK asks, and it breaks Carlos’ heart to hear the fear in his boyfriend’s voice, too scared to hope.

“I remember everything, baby,” he whispers back, taking a step toward him and then another. “And I love you, I love you so damn much TK – “

Carlos lets out a small grunt as TK slams into him, clinging to him as he starts to cry. He holds him tight to his chest, pressing his face into TK’s shoulder, rubbing his back, trying to soothe him as he continues to cry. It takes a few minutes for TK to calm down; by the time he does and pulls back to look at Carlos, his eyes are red from his tears.

“You remember me,” he says softly with a trembling smile.

“I’m so sorry I forgot,” he answers, reaching up to touch TK’s mouth when his boyfriend starts shaking his head, ready to tell him he doesn’t need to be sorry. “I know I don’t have to be and that it was an accident, but I’m still sorry you had to go through this. But you need to know, TK, that even without my memories, I still loved you, almost from the start. I loved you.”

TK wraps his fingers around Carlos’ wrist, pulling his hand away as he gives him a teary but beautiful smile. “I know that, my love. I know.”

Carlos nods as his eyes sting again, a tear slipping down his cheek. “I love you, TK. Then, now, and forever.”

TK lets out a shaky exhale, and when he tugs Carlos forward, he goes easily, sighing against TK’s lips as he kisses him gently. “And I love you, Carlos,” he says against his lips with another smile. “Exactly the same way.”

[marjansmarwani]

time can heal, but this won’t

1.7k || ao3

This could have been easily avoided. It never should have happened. But it had and now TK was possibly dying from a gunshot wound and Carlos couldn't shake the feeling that it was his fault.  --- Carlos Reyes Week Day 5:  “Just, hold on.” + hurt/comfort

This idea actually came from this post by @trkstrnd and became this but none of my other stuff for Carlos week was really angsty so I guess I was due

Beta’d by my favorite partner in crime @officereyes 

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

Carlos could recite police protocols verbatim. They had been drilled into his head since the academy and every day since he had lived by them. As a patrol officer, making the right choice and following the proper procedure could be the difference between life and death. The rules were there for a reason; they existed to keep people safe.

This incident — this catastrophe, really — was the kind of example they’d be using to scare the new recruits for years to come: make sure you follow procedure, or a firefighter could get shot by a 7-year-old. 

Carlos still wasn’t sure what had happened: there had been so many moving parts. There had been the mistaken burglar, the worried wife, the heart attack victim, the chaos of the scene. There had been other officers on scene who were not responsible for two civilians; someone should have secured the weapon. 

But it slipped through the cracks, as things sometimes did in the face of chaos. Carlos would normally be one of the first to say that it was something to learn from, that now that it had happened they would know to never let it happen again. But this time was different. 

This time it was TK’s life on the line, and no amount of reasoning could make that okay. 

He didn’t even find out about it until they were gone. He had just turned the corner when the alert about a gunshot came over the radio. His heart caught in his throat as he thought of all the awful possibilities: it could be a fellow officer, someone he was friends with. It could be one of the firefighters - he may not know them well but he would never wish harm on any of them. It could be Paul, it could Michelle, or TK. Those last few possibilities were too awful for him to dwell on so he pushed them aside focusing instead on the road in front of him and the job before him. 

It’s not until the Ackermans are safely returned home with a promise to follow up with any updates from the other homeowners (though Carlos doubts they’ll have any desire to press charges, given everything) that he checks his phone. He breathes a sigh of relief when he sees a text from Michelle, and another when he sees one from Paul. 

It’s only after he unlocks his phone to read the messages, nearly identical in content, that he starts to feel the world ever so slowly begin to fall apart around him. It’s the confirmation he’s been dreading: TK’s been shot. TK’s in surgery and from what he can extrapolate between the lines...it doesn’t look good. 

He shuts his eyes and takes a moment, leaning against the driver’s side door of the cruiser, to let the fear and dread wash over him. He and TK, well, Carlos isn’t all that sure what they are, to be perfectly honest; but he does know what they could be. He thinks they’re on the way there too. He thinks they could have something wonderful, but that’s not possible if TK is dead. 

Even thinking the word, even considering the possibility brings tears to his eyes but he pushes them back down. He opens his eyes to check on his partner, who is still on the front porch speaking to Mrs. Ackerman. He still has a few moments of solitude before he’ll have to answer any questions. He sags against the car as he lets the weight of this fear crash over him. It feels almost intrusive, to care so much when he has no claim on the other man; when they have no label for this thing they are building. But they were building it, and Carlos doesn’t want to be left with only the memory of the process. 

As much as he doesn’t want that, he’s afraid that might be exactly what he gets and he hates it. 

He straightens up and shoots off quick replies — thanking them both for the information and asking them to keep him posted. Then he glances at the time and takes a deep breath — there are two hours left in his shift. He can last two hours. He doesn’t know how to explain this to anyone else, doesn’t know how he could possibly explain to his boss that he needs to leave early because this guy he might be kind of dating might die. He doesn’t know how to explain it to anyone, so when his partner returns to the car he gives her a tight smile and starts the car so they can head back to the precinct and their paperwork. 

He doesn’t want to dwell on his thoughts of TK hurt, of TK in surgery, of TK possibly dying so instead he focuses on the how. Namely, how was a gun — that they knew about — not secured; how had this happened with a large police presence? 

Why hadn’t he noticed before it was too late?

He tells himself he wasn’t there when the shots were fired, he reminds himself that there were other officers there, that he wasn’t responsible for this fuck up. But no matter many times he repeats it to himself, he doesn’t believe it. He was there, he knew how things should have gone and he hadn’t made sure they were done. And now TK was paying the price. This was his fault. 

He carefully avoids the subject with his partner and upon their return to the station, he buries himself in paperwork, the words in front of him a blur as he checks his phone every other minute and counts down the seconds to the end of his shift. He keeps to himself, carefully avoiding the talk and conjecture of what had happened at the last call. He pretends to not hear those asking for a recount of the events, he only speaks to his Captain when asked to give his version. He tells her the truth: this could have been avoided; it should have never happened. She nods and thanks him, and he returns to his private waiting game. 

Finally, after what seems like a lifetime, his shift is over and he is finally able to go to where his head and his heart have been the whole night. Arriving at the hospital is easy, it’s the going in that’s hard. As much as he wants to know there is a part of his brain that reminds him that these last few moments of not knowing might be the last moments he has in a reality where TK Strand still exists. Walking through those doors could change that, and it’s almost enough to keep him in his car. 

In the end, the need to know wins out. Carlos has never been one to run from things and he is determined to keep it that way. Even if what he is running to is his own heartbreak, he is determined to face it head-on. And so he opens his car door and climbs out, heading towards the door and the possibility of a new reality. 

He finds the correct waiting room quickly; the large group is pretty noticeable, especially at the late hour. He gets curious gazes from most and a sympathetic look from Paul. He nods at them all before his eyes zero in on the room at the center of it all, the door to which their eyes keep gravitating. He takes a deep breath and strides across the room, slowing as he reaches the doorway and the scene within reveals itself. 

It is TK in the bed and, according to the monitors, he is alive, but after having known TK for several months now Carlos scarcely believes it. TK is always moving; a study in perpetual motion. Even when they sit, on the rare nights they settle in for a movie, he is never still. He shifts, he fiddles with his necklace. TK Strand does not hold still and to see him so stationary and lifeless is wrong on levels Carlos doesn’t even want to contemplate. 

He steps inside quietly, not wanting to startle the Captain who is speaking softly, who only has eyes for his son. Owen still turns, despite his efforts, and when their eyes meet Carlos can tell that he isn’t fooling the other man for one moment. Seeing TK like this, in such a foreign state has breached the barriers he has so carefully maintained all night and he can feel the moisture in his eyes. The Captain’s expression filters through several emotions within a moment and he settles on understanding. He knows what they are to each other; or at least what TK is to Carlos. He stands and offers Carlos some time and Carlos means it when he says he doesn’t want to impose. He doesn’t want to pull TK’s father away from his son, he doesn’t want to put anyone else out when this was all his fault anyway. 

But the Captain insists and soon Carlos is left alone with the shell of the man he just might love. He falls into the chair beside the bed and runs a hand through TK’s hair before reaching out and wrapping a hand tenderly around his arm. He knows that in a movie this would be the big romantic speech, the moment the character proclaims his love for the person in the bed. But as much as he does want that, as much as it may be true, proclamations of love are not his highest priority right now. Right now he just needs TK to live. Anything that comes after that, he can handle. Instead, as he leans in, he offers something else. 

“I’m so sorry,” he says thickly, voice low and heavy with tears, “this shouldn’t have happened I...I’m so sorry Ty. Just…” he trailed off, using his free hand to angrily wipe away the tears sliding down his face, “just, hold on. You can’t leave us yet. We need you — I need you.”

He let the silence of the ambient noises fill the room as he stared at the man before him. Soon he is joined by the rest of the crew but not even the firm and comforting hand on his shoulder from Paul can make this any better. 

If TK didn’t make it through this, he didn’t know how he would be able to live with himself.  

[lia-jones]

Growing Together - Chapter Twenty- Three - Goodbye is a Silent Word (Part Two)

I woke up the following morning, my sleeping son curled against me. The book I had been reading to him was neatly placed on the nightstand, and a warm comforter covered me. My heart grew warm with the thought that my husband had come to check up on us, as he would normally do before all of this had happened.

The truth was, I barely saw Victor ever since the piano incident. He had locked himself inside the study, writing the eulogy, and didn’t even bother answering me when I had come to ask if he was hungry. It was evident that he wanted to be left alone, so, as a good doting wife, I complied. Even if it hurt me. Even if my heart wrung itself with agony.

Owen stirred by my side, probably sensing that I was awake. His big brown eyes stared at me expectantly, as if to gauge my mood. It had been a weird couple of days, so it was no surprise that the boy felt somewhat unstable. I gave him my best reassuring smile.

“Good morning, sleepy bug.” I playfully poked his nose. “Did you sleep well?”

“You slept here?” He frowned. "Where's Dad?”

I had no idea where he was or how he was. I also had no idea of what to say, so the only solution I had was to lie.

“You know him, he's probably busy with the funeral.”

The boy stared at me in a very familiar way, his gaze very similar to the one his father used to give me when he felt something was off. After a moment, he seemed to shrug it off, smiling at me instead.

“I’m hungry. Can we go have breakfast?”

“Sure can!” I got up and offered my back for him to climb, which he happily did. “Come on, my hungry caterpillar. Let’s get you showered and fed so you may become a butterfly.”

“Did you know that monarch caterpillars eat about twenty milkweed leaves in one day?”

“That’s probably why they are so chubby and cute! Just like my little bug!”

“I’m not chubby!” He complained, giggling. “Just cute.”

The house smelled like flowers and candle wax, and had a more solemn feel to it. It was easy to assume Mina’s body had returned from the morgue and was already in the house. I walked with Owen to the kitchen, hearing the clinking of silverware and glasses.

“There you are, good morning!” Terry greeted. “Sit and eat, Susan just made some eggs. Do you like eggs, Owen?”

“Yes, I’d like some, please.” He sat down, folding his hands in his lap, waiting to be served.

As soon as I saw that he was happily eating, I turned to Terry.

“Where’s Victor?” I whispered.

“In the living room.” She answered with a nod. “Spent all night in there. I told him to go to bed, but he didn’t want to leave her alone.”

“Will you-”

“I’ll take care of Owen. Go see if you can convince him to have some breakfast.”

I entered the living room like it was a church, and for a moment I thought I heard an echo of my footsteps. Victor was sitting in the chair next to the coffin, lost in thought. His eyes showed the familiar traces of a night spent awake.

I stood in place for a moment, not knowing what to do, when the realization hit me. For the first time in years, I was afraid to get closer to him. It was like we had gone back to the days when he was simply a CEO, and I an intern, and all the steps we had made to get to where we were before had magically vanished. I couldn’t help but feel like I didn’t know him anymore and he didn’t want me anymore.

My mind scolded my heart for having such thoughts. I was being selfish, getting my feelings in the way of what I should do as a wife. I had married that man, all of him, the good and the bad. Would I be the kind of person who cowers when things get rough? Hell no.

I sat beside him, expecting to be sent away, but I wouldn’t let that deter me. Wanting me there or not, my husband would know I would always be there for him. I couldn’t promise to be perfect, but I did vow to be loyal.

“Did you spend the night in here?” I tried.

He blinked, as if he was emerging from his thoughts, and by his expression, they were very painful ones.

“I did.” He paused for a moment. “Did… you and Owen sleep well?”

Maybe he was overly emotional, or simply exhausted, but I could feel him letting his guard down for a second. He reminded me of a wounded animal somehow, too afraid to ask for help, suspicious of the world that hurt him in the first place. I would have to tread lightly.

“Yes.” I nodded. “If you want to, I can be with her for a moment, while you get something to eat. You skipped dinner.”

I grimaced internally as I saw his poker face return. I had spoken too much, called out on his fragility, and God forbid Victor would admit he wasn’t doing well in any way.

“No need.” He dismissed me. “I’m fine.”

“At least let me-” I motioned to take Victor’s hand, words failing me as I saw him pull his hand away.

I knew the cold version of Victor, the one with all the walls, feelings kept inside hidden, away from the world. But the walls he had built had cracks, and the light seeping through those cracks was exactly what made me fall in love with him. It showed me that, even though he did his best to conceal his loving and sensitive spark, it was there and it was very bright. It was just a defense mechanism, because when Victor felt, he felt very strongly and very deeply. I had never seen him like this, the walls so thick no light would show. And it was starting to become clear he had no intention of letting me in.

“Victor...” I felt my eyes sting.

“I can’t.” His voice was merely a whisper.

It seemed to be a thing of ours now, letting unspoken words fall heavy on us. He didn’t say much, but he didn’t need to, anyway. I walked out of the living room, my mind doing its best to numb itself. It felt too painful to think or to feel.

I became fully alert when I heard Terry speak from the kitchen.

“I beg of you, now is not the time.”

"Do I need to remind you this place used to belong to me? That I let you live here for free? Is that how you thank me?” I heard him chastise his sister.

God, no. It had been almost a year since I had last seen him.

I opened the door slowly, hoping I had heard wrong. But there he was, in his expensive fur coat, the same expression of someone who doesn’t have time to bother with anything but himself. Terry was pale as a ghost, leaning against the wall, while my son sat at the table, seemingly confused with the interaction.

"Since my son won’t bother to call his own father, I thought I would see him here. He has always been fond of the housekeeper, for some reason.”

“What do you want, Gregory?” I spoke, protectively resting my hand on Owen’s shoulder.

“Finally, someone who can be of use.” He turned to me with a condescending look, like I was one of his servants. “Where 's my son?”

Oh, no, you won’t.

“What do you want with Victor?” I challenged. “I’m sure it isn’t to apologize for the way you behaved at our wedding.”

“Children should honor their parents, not the opposite.” He looked at my side, to my son, with an amused smile. “Speaking of which, I see you brought your stray.”

I was suddenly blinded by rage, ready to go for his throat if he dared to speak another word. How dared he insult my son? I wasn’t a violent person, but I suddenly became thirsty for blood, eager to put that bitch of a sperm donor in his place. I was stopped by Victor’s icy voice, coming from behind me.

“Leave.”

Victor didn’t look angry. In fact, he looked calm and composed, and if someone saw this scene from afar, they would probably mistake it for an amicable interaction. However, everyone in the room could feel Victor’s menacing aura, like he was a dangerous beast ready to attack, only waiting for the right moment. I instinctively pulled Owen behind me, expecting bloodshed.

“I will not be told what-”

“I said. Leave.” Victor’s voice was contained, but menacing. “You will not disrespect my family.”

He was laser-focused, in full control of his body, his eyes full of danger yet his expression cold and detached. Every muscle, every breath, every thought was now aimed at his father, and it was clear he wouldn’t hesitate to shred him to pieces if he felt the need. I didn’t know this Victor at all, and to be honest, I didn’t want to see him again. I knew I couldn’t possibly imagine the things he was capable of.

Gregory apparently could, or at least recognized the real danger of the situation, as he cleared his throat and gave a discreet step back.

“Probably for the best. I’ll leave you to mourn the housekeeper.”

Josh had told me all that had happened between Gregory and Victor right before our wedding, and how close the old man was to get his nose broken by his son, so it was surprising to see that he was still trying to provoke him. I braced myself for a stormy reaction from Victor. None came. Victor kept his steely eyes and cold demeanor, not moving one inch.

“I’m sure you can see yourself out.”

Terry and I watched Victor in awe, surprised the old man would live to see another day. The hot tension in the kitchen lingered, as Victor kept his eyes focused on his father, watching him slowly walk away.

“Who was that man?” Owen peeked from behind me.

Victor turned to his son, the tension from the previous interaction not fully gone.

“You are not to listen to a single word that bastard says, do you understand me?” His authoritative, icy tone made Owen flinch.

“Yes, Sir.”

I wasn’t sure if Victor had heard Owen’s answer, as he returned to the living room without another word.

The funeral was simple and tasteful, with very few people, including me and Victor. It was odd, knowing Mina, that the funeral would have such low attendance. She was such a loving and caring woman, it would be expected that the world would honor her existence. As it sometimes happens with the purest things in life, Mina’s death seemed to be ignored.

However, all present paid respects to the deceased, either by saying a few words or reading a passage of some book they liked. Until it was Victor’s turn.

He got up quietly, steadily, like he would when he was in a business meeting. But I could see the twitch of his fingers, the sad look in his eyes. It was clear that, although seemingly composed, Victor had a raging war inside him. He took a piece of paper from his suit jacket’s pocket and started reading.

“Whillemina Jordan was born on October 11th, 1949, in Loveland. Her dream was to become an actress, but when her father fell ill with a mysterious bone disease, she had to work to feed the family, so her mother could take care of her siblings. During her life...”

Victor paused for a moment, staring at the paper. He folded it back in, putting it in his pocket. For some reason, he had decided to speak from the heart.

“Mina was a loving and caring woman. She was forgiving, never entertaining a single negative feeling in her heart. But most of all, she was wise. She had the kind of wisdom that cannot be attained through education, but only through the course of a painful life. And yet, she had nothing but love and joy to give. Mina.” Victor paused again, his voice faltering almost inaudibly. “You will be missed.”

I could see it perfectly. In that small pause existed the silent goodbye that Victor wasn’t yet able to say. It entailed sweet childhood memories and caring moments, the ones only shared between a mother and her child. It entailed all of the moments that were yet to come, when Victor would need a mother figure, and miss her. It also entailed the hug that Victor wanted to give her, the words he meant to say to her, the moments that never came to be. I could feel Victor’s sorrow deep in my heart, so I moved to the piano, letting it spill all over the piano keys.

It dawned on me later that, even not being able to make a family of her own, she did have a family: except for Victor, there wasn’t a dry face in that funeral. Mina did have loved ones, we were right there, crying for her. And she had a son, who gave up on control momentarily to honor her, who carried her casket and stayed behind until the very end, when most people had left the cemetery.

We drove straight home, in silence, Owen drifting off in the back. The reality of our situation came rushing back as we got closer to Loveland. The lawsuit, our fight, all of that filled the silence between us, and it became impossible to breathe. We walked into the apartment without a word, and i took our son straight to his bedroom to put him in bed.

“Isn’t Dad going to kiss me goodnight?” There was a deep sadness in the boy’s voice.

I looked at the door behind me, waiting for Victor to come and lean on the doorframe, like he did every night. The doorframe remained painfully lonely.

“Dad is probably tired, he must have gone to bed already.” I downplayed it with a forced smile. “You’ll talk to him in the morning.”

“Dad would never go to bed without kissing me goodnight.” Owen spat at me. “You won’t tell me, but I know he’s mad at me. Whatever I did, it wasn’t on purpose!”

I held my son’s face between my hands, staring deeply at the desperation in his eyes.

“Listen to me, Bug.” I spoke to his pain, wanting to send it away. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Your father is sad, and he doesn’t know how to express it. It’s not your fault.”

Big brown eyes stared at me, and I felt him relax.

“Go to bed, get some sleep.” I pecked his forehead. “You have school tomorrow.”

“Ok.” He buried himself in the comforter. “Goodnight Mom.”

“Goodnight, my little bug.”

I closed the door to Owen’s room slowly, trying to placate myself. This had gone too far. I could accept that Victor was hurting, I could accept that he was angry at me and I probably deserved the punishment he was giving me, I could even accept that he kept me at bay. But hurting my son? I would not accept that.

I went to the bedroom, only to find it empty. When I reached the main hallway, I saw the light in the study was on. He was probably in there, drinking. Disregarding our son. Disregarding me. It was getting harder and harder for me to keep calm. I opened the study door unceremoniously. As I expected, he had taken his tie and suit jacket off and was helping himself with some whiskey.

“You’re drinking?” I gave him an accusatory look. “Your son is in bed, worrying about why his father didn’t even bother to kiss him goodnight, and you are here drinking?”

“Not now, Andrea.” He sighed in annoyance. And then I saw the exhaustion in his eyes.

Victor was shutting me out, putting on a brave face, but this was the man that carried his mother’s casket. This was the man that lost the one person that held him through it all his whole life and was also at risk of losing his son. This was the man whose father only wanted to hurt, and not to comfort. And although I was right there, he probably couldn’t help but feel lonely. I took a deep breath to calm myself down.

“Look, I know this is a very hard day for you, and I understand, I really do.” I looked at him earnestly, waiting for him to meet my gaze. “I know who you lost. But our son needs you.”

Victor turned away, deciding to ignore me.

“Look, I know we had a fight and I know you are angry at me. But we can sort this out. I’m right here, talk to me.”

“Are you?” He asked with a bitter voice. “Are you really? Because two days ago you weren’t even sure you wanted to keep our son. Are you sure you want to keep us?”

“Oh no, you don’t get to make accusations like that!” I raised my voice, the rage coming full force now. “I am not the one running away to lick my wounds, ostracizing my child in the process! You do not get to tell me I’m abandoning my family!”

“Right.” He gave me a bitter chuckle.

“Look, I know you haven’t had it easy these last two days, but guess what? Neither have I! I let you take it out on me, endured all the times you gave me the cold shoulder, smiled and reassured our son when you ignored him, I was there for my family!” The words poured out of me, raw and sharp, and I found I couldn’t stop them. “I understand you are hurting, and I am sorry! I’m sorry your mother left you, I am sorry that your father is a narcissistic prick, and I am sorry that the woman that practically raised you died. Hell, I’m even sorry that I didn’t meet your impossible standards, but that does not give you the right to ignore our son and break his heart! You are acting just like your father!”

I covered my mouth with a gasp, appalled with the words that had just come out of my mouth. Of all the blows, this one was the cheapest. And also the deadliest. I watched Victor freeze in place, his eyes on the ground, fully aware that the moment he would look up, I would see the rage in them.

“Leave.” His tone was monotonous, yet sharp as a knife.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. Let’s just-”

“I said LEAVE!” He roared. “NOW!

I jumped when I heard the loud crash right beside me, unable to register what it was. Until I saw the glass in shards on the floor, the wall behind me dripping with whiskey. His outburst triggered something in me, and I bolted out of the study. I leaned against the bedroom wing’s wall, trying hard to steady my shaking body and catch a breath, when I saw Owen next to me.

“What happened?” He looked at me with tears in his eyes. I immediately forgot my own fright and went straight to comforting mode.

“It’s ok, my sleepy bug, everything is alright.” I said, after quickly wiping my tears. “Go to bed, it’s late.”

“Did he hurt you?” He sobbed.

“No, he wouldn’t do that.” I reassured the boy. “He’s just upset, that’s all.”

“Can you sleep with me tonight? I’m scared.” He begged.

“Just for tonight, agreed? Ok, off to bed we go, tomorrow you have to be up bright and early.”

As Owen climbed into bed, I shut myself in his bathroom for a moment. All of this was surreal. This wasn’t Victor. Victor would never do that, he would never act like that, he would never be violent, or turn his back on the people he loved or shatter a glass against a wall, no matter how dire things were… Would he?

I quickly took a hand towel from a drawer and stuffed it in my mouth, trying to conceal the wrenching sobs I could no longer keep in, as I considered a second option. Maybe Victor hadn’t changed, the circumstances did. Maybe he found it easy to turn his back on me because our fight the day before had been the last blow in our relationship. My husband could be that unforgiving if pushed hard enough. I let myself slide to the ground, unable to keep myself up, the anguish taking full force. I had lost him. I was losing it all. Owen and Victor. My whole life. All the reasons to be happy.

I left the bathroom a while later, empty of tears. Owen had fallen asleep in the meantime, but I laid next to him anyway. I wanted to make the best of these moments, even if they were bittersweet, because I would probably no longer have them. I hugged my sleeping boy tight, burying my nose in his curls, treasuring him the best I could.

When people pass away, we feel sad that we didn’t get to say goodbye, like goodbye is something that needs to be heard to be acknowledged. That’s a lie. Goodbyes can be a mere hesitation. Goodbyes can be a glass shattered against a wall. And even though they aren’t voiced, even when they are silent, they can still hold an ocean of words in them, and mean the end of a marriage.

[barbarasbae]

Even in Hawkins- Nerves

Part 15 of Even in Hawkins 

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: hospitals, call back/mentions of miscarraige, healing, Neil makes an appearance, complicated feelings are had ( they’re starting to figure their dynamics out)

Hi welcome to the literal 8th version of this chapter that I’ve written in the past...4 months? Finally finally happy with the final product. 

Billy was in the hospital for 5 more days, Max and Steve helping him practice walking. Y/n would help, but Max felt she needed to do it and Steve was stronger than Y/n, so it was probably for the best. “You’re doing great, Billy.” She called, the group turning around. His face was pink. “Do you need to slow down?” Max asked, concerned. “M’ fine.” He walked back to the room, Max trading her spot with Y/n. “Oof! Forgot how heavy you are.” She teased, Billy nipping her ear. She giggled, nudging him back. They helped him back in bed, the nurse on duty coming in to check on his stitches. Steve squeezed Y/n’s shoulder, bumping his nose against her ear. “You okay?”

“Yeah..just..nervous.” She admitted. “Why?”

“Just about..stuff. Like stitches and stairs.” She sat next to Billy, looking at the clock. Visiting hours were almost over. “Can you stay tonight?” Billy asked quietly, looking at his lap. “Sure. Something wrong?”

He shrugged, a mild pout on his face. She leaned in, Max and Steve starting to chatter about something. “It’s okay to be nervous.” She promised in a whisper, pressing her cheek against his, feeling heat flood his cheeks at the contact. “You embarrassed, silly?”

He grumbled, Y/n smiling. “Hey, do you think you two could give us a moment alone?” Y/n asked Max and Steve, nudging Billy. Both looking reluctant. “I’m really hungry actually. Could you go get me a sandwich or something?” Billy asked, taking the hint. The pair walked out, Steve looking a little flushed. Billy reached over, grabbing her closest hand.  Y/n rested her chin on his shoulder, poking his cheek with her nose. She felt the alpha let out a shuddering breath, laying back into the pillows. “Hey, it’s okay. We’re okay.” He whimpered, turning his head. “I can’t-all those people. How can I just go home and act like nothing happened?” He asked in a whisper. Y/n was quiet. How can you? 

“I don’t know, B. I guess you’ll just have to try to live your best or something like that?” That made his mouth quirk in a little smile. “Or something.” His voice was small. Y/n found Billy was turning more and more inward, getting quieter and quieter. Very similar to how he was when he first woke up. This wouldn’t do, of course. The omega in Y/n was practically screaming for her to fix it. 

“Bill?”

“Hm?”

“Love you.” She told him softly, the blond giving her a brilliant smile. “Love you too.” She leaned back into him, Billy pulling her back into a hug, her nose pressed back into his hair. Billy pressed his nose into her scent gland, letting out a long sigh. 

“Can’t wait to scent you how I actually want to.” She murmured, feeling the tip of Billy’s nose rubbing along the curve of her neck and became extremely aware that the doctor was coming into the room. She pulled back gently. “No-” He whined, following her. 

“As much as I’m enjoying it, we have an audience.” She cooed, kissing him and helping him lay down. She sat next to him in a chair, a nurse walking over to check his vitals. Billy grabbed for her hand, the heart monitor speeding up. Y/n rubbed the inside of his palm, not wanting Billy to strain against his IV. 

“Hey William. How are you feeling today?” He shrugged. “Well, that’s better than a grunt I suppose.” The nurse took his temperature, Dr. Owens flipping through the file. “You walked earlier today?” 

“Yeah.”

“Good. I figured we’d discuss some of what you’ll need to do during recovery so check out on Friday can go faster.”

“I get to go home?” Dr. Owens nodded. “I have a list I’ll hand off to you but for now I’ll read you the most important ones. No getting stitches wet for at least another three weeks. You have to quit smoking. We can’t risk it with your weak lungs. No lifting anything heavy for at least 8 weeks and no driving heavy machinery for another 2. I want you to come see me once a week for therapy and at least another session once a week for physical therapy after your 8 weeks is up.” 

“Okay.” Billy’s voice was small. “This isn’t necessary, but I am going to recommend cutting your hair. 

“Doc, you gotta leave me with something.”

“Unless you have someone do it for you, because you strike me as someone who takes care of it, I recommend cutting it so you don’t have to worry about lifting your arms above your shoulder. Easy way to rip stitches.” Billy was getting upset. “We’ll figure something out.” Y/n promised, trying to reassure him. “Sandra here will tell you how to take care of your stitches. I’ll see you in the morning. Call if you need anything.”

“Would it be alright for me to stay here overnight?” The nurse nodded, going to get a special form for her. Steve and Max finally came back, passing out sandwiches. “You need me to get you anything?” The other omega asked before leaning his weight on the bed, eyes darting back and forth between the couple in front of him. “I think I’m okay for now. I’ll just go home in the morning for new clothes and stuff probably. You need anything, B?”

 “I’m good.” Steve handed Billy his sandwich, looking pleased with himself when the alpha took a bite. “Would it be alright if I hug you before I leave?” Steve asked, more so looking at Y/n then he was Billy. “Yeah. That would be nice.” The blond smiled. The older omega squeezed in tight, the slight scenting not going unnoticed by Y/n. “I feel like I need a hug as well.” She teased, scenting Steve as well, a little chirp escaping her at the wonderfully safe, warm and familiar scent of Steve. “Well now I’m a little jealous.” Billy teased, the omegas laughing. “Ready Max?”

“I don’t wanna goooo.” She whined, dragging herself over to the cot. “Love you Billy.” She mumbled, embracing him in a way that was less a hug and more max wilting into him. “Love you too, shitbird.” She stuck her tongue out, Steve having to drag her away. 

Y/n turned the tv on, the pair inhaling turkey sandwiches from the cafeteria. 

She felt Billy’s eyes on her, the omega leaning closer. “Penny for your thoughts?” 

“Did you ever go to the hospital after, you know?” 

“What?”

“The baby?” Billy whispered and suddenly the only noise in the room was the tv. “Oh.”

“...”

“Yeah, I did. That’s the only reason I knew it was...a miscarraige.” She told him softly, the alpha reaching for her hand. “I could have gone with you.” She shook her head. “It was just me and my mom. I was so scared, I wasn’t even thinking about trying to tell anyone else.” 

“I’m sorry.” He squeezed her hand, Y/n wiping at her face. “I didn’t mean to make you upset.”

“No I’m fine.”

“Don’t lie, Y/n.”

“I’m not. Promise,”

She slept curled in the recliner, waking up every time a nurse came to check on Billy.  Everyone continued to visit him throughout the week, the alpha forgetting to mention his impending release coming up. 

The morning of Billy’s last day in the hospital, Billy received a 5 page pamphlet of instructions as well as a non-disclosure agreement. Dr. Owens mentioned he should be getting a check in the mail in a few weeks and that he needed to come back Tuesday for his first physical therapy appointment. Then he was free to go. 

“Well, first day free. What do you want to do?” She asked the blond as they got on the road. “I want a burger.” 

“Okay, greasy burger coming up. It okay if we make a few more stops after?” He nodded, playing with one of the strings on his hoodie. 

 She pulled into the video store parking lot, Billy following behind her, tugging his sleeves down. She reached for his hand, the blond eagerly taking it. “Y/n?” Steve called from the counter, Robin flipping through a comic book. They came over. “Holy shit. Billy! Hey man!” He came around the counter and hugged the alpha, Billy hugging back tightly. Steve tried to be subtle about scenting him but failed pretty spectacularly, causing the other omega to laugh. Steve smiled sheepishly, blushing when Billy buried his face in Steve’s neck. “You’re not the only ones here, dinguses.” Robin chided, Steve yanking away. “I think I should get a hug too.” Y/n teased, Steve throwing his arms around her. “This okay?” He asked quietly, nosing at her scent gland.  “Oh-uh. y-yeah. Yeah it’s okay.” She hugged back tightly. “So what brings you here?”

“Movies.”

“Oh, right.” Steve laughed, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. He hopped back over the counter, Robin rolling her eyes. Billy meandered, grabbing a couple movies. “Okay, that’s gonna be $4.79.” Steve chirped, smiling up at Billy. Y/n handed off a 5. “I don’t want any change.”

“Hold on.” He grabbed a couple candy bars. “$5 solid.” 

“Thanks, Stevie.” Billy piped up, reaching for Y/n’s hand. “No problem.”

“Steven, you’re drooling.” Robin sighed, closing the comic. “I am not!” 

Y/n smiled. “Wanna come over for movies tomorrow?” 

“Oh, sure.”

“Cool. It’s a date.” Y/n winked, Steve turning pink. “Later, pretty boy.” Billy threw in a wink of his own, Robin cackling as they turned to leave. “Dingus, get off the floor.” Y/n and Billy giggled, the former pulling the blond alpha outside. After getting snacks, Y/n started toward his house to let Billy rest. They pulled into his driveway, Billy looking tense. “Want me to walk you to the door?” He shook his head. “It’s okay. I’ll call you after dinner if I can come over?” She nodded. “Love you, B.” She leaned over, nuzzling the alpha’s scent gland. He let out an involuntary purr. “Okay, get off of me. Won’t ever get home.” He teased, kissing her forehead. She waved as he walked up the pavement, driving off. 

Max opened the door after he knocked on it, stunned. “B-billy?!” 

“Hi Max.” 

She threw her arms around him, crying. He put the box down and hugged her back, Max not letting him go for a good 5 minutes. Neil watched them, not saying anything yet. Susan pulled him into a tight hug, saying she had been so worried about him. Max followed him into his room, asking question after question. “Maxine! Let him breathe.” Neil called. “It’s okay.” Billy said to her. She nodded and scooted into her room, Billy laying down on his bed. Neil came in, Billy sitting up in a panic. “Come to the kitchen.” He did, cautious. His body still hurt so much, he wasn’t ready for what pain might be coming. Susan set a plate of food in front of him. Neil pat his shoulder (a little too hard, mind you), squeezing in a way that made Billy straighten his spine in response. “We were so worried, Billy.” Neil said, voice...quiet? 

Susan nodded. “What did the doctors say?”

“Oh, I don’t remember everything but I have some instructions. I have to do some physical therapy and they had to do surgery on my lungs. Ma’am.” 

“MAXINE!”

“WHAT?!” 

“GET YOUR BROTHERS PAPERS FROM THE HOSPITAL.” 

She brought them in, Billy slowly eating the soup in front of him. Billy saw his father’s eyes go wide. “Don’t worry. The guys who own the mall are paying for everything. They don’t want us to sue them.” He repeated the lie Dr. Owens had instructed him to tell. Neil patted him on the shoulder. “Well, I’m glad you’re okay. And if they don’t pay for all of it I’m gonna sue them for all their worth.” Billy nodded. And then he was left alone. Well, sorta. Susan wouldn’t stop staring at him as he walked from the kitchen to the bathroom to his bedroom. He flipped through the pages Dr. Owens had given, grimacing at the appointment list. He was just tired. And the thought of having to do all that was exhausting. “Billy?”

“Hm?”

“I-mom got you something.” He got up, grunting. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah.” She had a phone in her hands. “They said I can connect it for you in here, if you want?”

“Sure, Max.” He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “Or not…”

“No, it’s okay. I’m just tired.” She nodded. “Can I put it here?” He nodded, laying back down. “Thanks, Max.” 

“Call your girlfriend.” She poked his arm. He smiled. “You’re not gonna be using this to call you know who lets get that straight now.” She huffed but didn’t yell at him. He called Y/n after his door was shut. 

“Hey baby.” He smiled, speaking to her softly. “Hi. Do you wanna come over?”

“Can I bring Max?”

“Sure. What time?”

“I don’t care. Now?”

“See you in twenty.” 

They watched back to the future in Y/n’s room, Billy having an arm around each girl. Max only lasted about ten minutes before she complained his arm was heavy. Y/n played with his hair, kissing his cheek every once and awhile. She missed him like hell. And she fell asleep during the movie like 40 minutes in. “Baby, you’re missing it.” He cooed, her resting on his shoulder. She blinked awake, nudging his nose with hers. “I’m probably not gonna make it through the movie.” She said, putting her hand on his chest. Max had moved so she was resting on her elbows towards the end of the bed, kicking her feet. Y/n turned on her side, hiding her face in Billy’s neck, the alpha rubbing his cheek on top of her head.  

“Isn’t Marty kinda hot, Y/n? Y/n?” Max turned her head to see her older brother and his girlfriend asleep. She groaned and got up. “Gross.” She actually thought they were really cute but she would never admit that out loud. She decided to venture downstairs, Y/n’s mom in the kitchen. “Hey sweetie. Who are you?”

“Max Mayfield. I’m Billy’s sister.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“You too. Do you have any ice cream?” Y/n’s mom let her take it upstairs, Max grimacing at the site of Billy drooling on his girlfriend. 

Max bounced as she sat, waking Y/n up. “What’s happening?”

“Want some ice cream?” 

“Sure.” The girls shared ice cream, finishing the movie. 

“Billy, you need to wake up.”

“Five more minutes…” He pleaded, rolling into the pillows. “Ah, fuck.” 

“Careful. Gotta take it easy.” She helped him sit up. “I gotta take you home.”

“Don’t wanna leave.” He whined, pushing his face into her chest. “Billy I’m tired.” Max whined, sugar crash hitting her hard. “You need to go get sleep before our date tomorrow.” Y/n whispered, Billy smiling. “Fine, fine. I’m getting up.” He grumbled, Y/n driving a sleepy Max and Billy home, stomach in knots at the prospect of their movie date tomorrow with Steve. 

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[one-leaf-grimoire]

Chapter 11

knight au ➼ chapter 11

warnings ➼ no warnings for the tumblr version, the ao3 version has a spicy scene

summary ➼ an unforseen complications forces julius to make a quick plan and possibly reveal his relationship with lisa.

AO3 LINK

Fortunately, life seemed to return to normal in the two weeks following the whole kidnapping fiasco. Sei and Lisa went home in one piece, although Lisa was upset to learn that she would still be strictly grounded until her health was better. Unfortunately, Owen’s predictions were right, and she would be feeling the blood loss she suffered from for quite some time. However, over the next two weeks, her strength was slowly returning, and the simple tasks she struggled with before were becoming easier. She didn’t get dizzy as often, and even managed to sneak in some sword practice when Fuegoleon wasn’t looking.

As for Julius, though…

“I’ve told you a million times, Marx, I am not just going to break up with her!”

Marx sucked in a breath, sweat pouring down his forehead as his irritation at Julius grew. This was probably the 10th time this week he had pulled Julius aside and brought the subject up, and the burden of this secret was starting to weigh too heavily on the advisor’s shoulders. So, once again, he found himself practically begging Julius to do something about this… unfortunate situation. “What else can you do?” he whispered, his eyes darting around the empty corridor. “Julius, I have no idea how you became… involved with this woman, but you can’t keep this up forever! I understand if you feel the need to be- be rebellious or whatever-” he cringed a little, his anger building. “-but if you’ve had your fun, you have to end things!”

Julius grit his teeth, his fist clenching. He just doesn’t understand, does he? “I’m not just having fun with her, Marx. I told you, I LOVE-”

“SHHH!!! Don’t-” Marx jolted forward, looking like he was about to pop a vein from anxiety. “I understand that you care about her, but Julius…” Marx sighed, stepping back. “But she’s a commoner… maybe an exceptional commoner, but if your family or Kira’s family finds out-”

“I know the risks,” Julius replied, his voice icy. Marx gulped; he could tell that Julius was deadly serious about this, and that’s what worried him the most. Marx was the only person outside of Sei who knew about the relationship, and Sei had already been a problem for Julius… albeit in a different way.

“I’ll let you off the hook this time, since part of the problem was Lisa’s own foolishness… but if I get ONE whiff of funny business from you, or get the impression that Lisa isn’t comfortable... I’m not afraid to commit regicide. Understood?”

Julius paled a little at the memory, but quickly kept talking. “I understand that she’s a commoner… but at the end of the day, I am the King. And I will use the full extent of that title to protect her, when the time comes.”

Marx’s shoulders slumped, sensing that Julius was just about ready to end this conversation. “... Julius… I just don’t want this to blow up in your face. I trust that you’ve considered every outcome.” He shook his head a little, avoiding Julius’s eyes. “Please… please… just be careful.”

The man looked up as Julius’s hand landed on his shoulder. Julius gave him a comforting smile. “Marx, don’t worry… I appreciate your concern, but-”

“JULIUS! Is that you?”

Both of them snapped to attention as a group of people rounded a corner, attendants and advisors, and in the center of their cluster was an unmistakable man.

“King Augustus!”

Marx broke into a deep bow, and Julius dipped his head briefly in respect. “Is there something you need, Augustus?”

Augustus smacked his lips for a moment, thinking, then nodded. “I do, I do.” He turned to his attendants. “Scurry off, now.”

They nodded and made their exit. Julius gave Marx a long look, and the blue-bowled man begrudgingly obeyed.

“Now that we’re alone-” Augustus grabbed Julius’s sleeve for a moment, lowering his voice. “There’s a matter I wish to discuss with you. Of great personal importance to me.”

Julius gulped, instinctively getting a little nervous, as he was hiding a secret that he really, really did not need Augustus to figure out. “Oh, of- of course. What can I do for you?”

“You see… I just got engaged.”

Julius’s eyes widened. Oh god… that poor woman, he thought before forcing a smile. “Splendid! I was wondering when you were going to get around to that~” It may have been hard to believe, but Augustus was a little younger than Julius, so it would be expected for him to choose a queen at this point.

“Don’t tease me,” Augustus grumbled. “There’s a problem, though… the woman that was presented to me, she is, well… she’s beautiful. The most beautiful of the candidates my family chose for me. However, after being with her for a few months…” He groaned and shook his head. “She is simply too tall! I can’t be looking up at a woman, can I?”

Julius wasn’t exactly sure what to say to that. “Well… what does that matter? If you love her-”

“I don’t.” Augustus was quick to cut him off. “Love comes after marriage… but I can’t see myself ever getting to that point with this woman. HOWEVER-” the last word came out as a short screech as he gained excitement. “This woman, she comes from a prestigious noble family… I would not settle for anything less. I’m sure I can find someone better than her if I wait a little longer, but I can’t just throw her away. So!” He smirked, pointing at Julius. “Why don’t you marry her?”

“W-What?!” Julius winced, shocked at the proposal. “Oh, Augustus, I appreciate-”

“Julius, you’re not getting any younger!” Augustus pointed out. “Your family is constantly talking about your inability, or unwillingness, to find a partner!” They are? Julius thought before the King continued. “This is the perfect fix for both of us!”

Oh god… Julius gulped before letting out a nervous laugh. “Augustus, you really are thoughtful! But-” His mind was racing, and before he could come up with a better excuse, he spoke again. “-you see… I’m already seeing someone.”

Augustus’s eyes and mouth blew wide open. “WHAT?! Why didn’t you say anything?” He blinked a few times, the shock wearing off. “Well… that’s that then… HOWEVER-” He smirked again, pointing at Julius, a glint in his eyes that told Julius that he was scheming. “-This mystery woman… if you’re really serious about her, you better introduce us! You want my approval, don’t you?”

Not really.... Julius’s heart was pounding. “Well, she’s from the outer lands, her family oversees much of the far reaches of the forsaken realm-”

“Oh…. hmm.” Augustus’s eyes narrowed. “She’s not one of those new money nobles, is she?”

Julius quickly shook his head, but Augustus was already suspicious. “Well, now I have to meet her! Lust can cloud the mind when evaluating these things, you may not be pursuing an appropriate match.” Julius clenched his fist, his head starting to spin with the beginnings of rage. Appropriate? Lust? Augustus has no idea how love is supposed to work, is he? She’s not just some object for me to collect! However, he held his tongue. Many in the inner circles of royalty did not value their female counterparts as much as they should, and his opinion was definitely in the minority. “There will be a ball next weekend… only the finest nobles will be invited. Please bring your lady to the ball, so I can meet her and decide if she’s worthy!”

“Oh, that’s very kind of you!” Julius laughed nervously, trying not to seem too anxious. Lisa? At a ball? I don’t even like going to balls! “But not necessary, I assure you-”

“Nonsense. She will come. End of discussion.” Augustus turned away, not allowing Julius to get another word in. “I will continue this discussion next weekend at the ball!”

Julius stood there in silence, slowly realizing what a tough situation this was going to be.

But… I’m sure it’ll work out.

He turned and walked off to his chambers, hands clasped behind his back as he started to think up a plan.

I’ll visit Lisa and let her know…

……..

The next evening, Lisa hummed to herself happily as she walked back to her room from the bathroom. Her hair was wet, tousled up after an attempt to dry it, the skirt of her bathrobe flouncing around her knees. The CLK didn’t have many female knights, so she was alone in the hallway in the female part of the dorms. But she didn’t think much of it, opening her door and shutting it behind her.

Ah, it’ll be nice to relax after all the chores I had to do-

Someone cleared their throat.

“AHH!”

Lisa immediately dropped her towel and raised her fists, eyes widening at the sight of a person sitting at her desk. However, the adrenaline wore off the moment she realized who it was.

“Julius?!”

Julius smiled, waving for a moment before standing up. “Sorry! Should I have knocked?”

Lisa’s brow furrowed into a playful frown. “No… sorry, I was just taking a bath.”

Julius nodded, clearing his throat and averting his eyes from the deep neck of her bathrobe. “I see… well, sorry for intruding-”

“You’re not!”

Lisa didn’t hesitate, throwing herself right into his chest and wrapping her arms around his middle. Julius stumbled a bit, not expecting the sudden lunge, but quickly steadied himself. “Well, well, I guess you’re forgiving me,” he chuckled, reciprocating the embrace. “I’ve missed you.”

“Me too… I’m always so happy to see you,” Lisa mumbled into his shirt, smiling to herself as she felt his hand come up, the familiar feeling of him petting her hair following the movement. After a long moment, she pulled back and looked up at him. “What do you need?”

“Oh, I need to tell you about something that’s about to happen.” Julius reluctantly stepped back, holding her hands in his. “Something that involves both of us… well…” He cleared his throat, and Lisa narrowed her eyes a little. “It’s a long story, but I let slip to Augustus that I was seeing someone… that would be you…”

“Augustus? You mean KING Augustus?” Lisa’s eyes widened. “H-he knows about me-”

“No, no- I didn’t reveal who you were,” Julius quickly told her. “I told him you were a noblewoman from the outer lands of the kingdom… but he basically ordered the two of us to come meet him at a ball this weekend.”

“...ordered?” Lisa paled. “Uh oh… so, I’m going to have to pretend to be a noble for a night?”

“Yes, but don’t worry-” Julius smiled comfortingly, squeezing her shoulders. “My advisor, Marx, will help sneak you in… and I’ll have clothes ready for you so you’ll look the part.” Lisa blinked slowly, obviously not convinced yet. “I’m sorry this happened… but it might be a good way for you to see how I live… and how you might live one day.” He smiled, leaning down a little to look her in the eyes. “Do you trust me?”

Slowly, Lisa nodded, sucking in a breath. “Yes… I just don’t trust myself to not mess up… I don’t want to get you into trouble-”

“Neither do I!” Julius let out a little laugh at his joke, and was relieved to see Lisa smile, too. “I’ll be right there beside you the whole time.”

Lisa nodded. “That’s true…” Her gaze flickered away from him, a little blush appearing on her cheeks. “It’ll be nice to actually act like a couple in front of them.”

Julius’s heart did a little backflip in his chest. He didn’t say anything; he couldn’t say anything, he just stared at her until she noticed her silence. “What?” she asked, meeting his gaze again.

“...you’re so cute.”

Lisa blinked slowly as his hands came up to cradle her face, her cheeks reddening further. “...what made you say that?”

Julius shrugged, a pleasant shiver moving over his skin as he felt her arms find their way around his waist again. “Who knows… it’s just an observation.” His eyes narrowed a little, studying every detail of her eyes, her cheeks, the way her jaw felt as his thumbs brushed it, and… her soft, soft lips.

“Can I kiss you?”

Lisa nodded without hesitation, a small yet unmistakable movement. Julius gave her a little nod of his own before leaning down, pressing a tender kiss to her lips. He felt her exhale through her nose, before her whole body relaxed, leaning against him and melting away.

...

...

...

I love you…

Julius wanted to tell her those words as they curled up together on her bed, but he held his tongue. Right now, he didn’t want to overwhelm her. They had time. Instead, he just leaned down and kissed her forehead, right over her mysterious mark.

“You’re amazing, you know? An amazing knight, and amazing woman…” he smirked a little. “And amazing kisser~”

Lisa flushed. “I-I am NOT!”

“You are!” Julius sat up a little, grinning cheekily. “Don’t tell me I was your first kiss?”

“No, you weren’t.” Lisa rubbed her face sheepishly. “You really think I’m good?”

“Of course? I could kiss those lips of yours all day.” Julius gave her a wink, and was overjoyed to see said lips twitch into a smile.

“Oh? That sounds like a promise.”

“It is. Get over here-”

Lisa quickly obeyed, crawling into his arms once again. Their lips quickly met, in a sweet, chaste kiss, the tension between them dissolving the rest of the way. Julius smiled into the kiss, pulling back just to press a few lighter ones against the side of her face. Lisa giggled, squirming a bit. “Julius… will you stay here tonight?”

Julius raised an eyebrow, but quickly nodded. “If you want me too… I’ll have to leave early so I can make it back to the castle, though.”

“That’s okay.”

Julius turned around to let her change into pajamas, then gladly crawled under the sheets with her. Lisa’s bed was a full size bed, luckily, but the two still settled in right up against each other.

“Julius… thank you.”

Lisa let her eyes close, his warmth lulling her to sleep already. “You know how to make everything better... “

Julius blushed a little, kissing the side of her head one last time before laying his head down on the pillow.

“So do you… you’ve changed my life, Lisa.”

The two fell asleep, limbs entwined, and left their worldly problems behind as they entered their own, perfect dream.

[thedistrictsleepsalonetonight]

Head over feet (or Jamie’s not a Manic Pixie Dream Girl, thank you very much)

There are only two reasons Bly Manor could ever be completely silent - one, that somebody had died, and two, that Owen and Jamie were fighting. Again.

(It’s sad that there was an equal chance of either of those possibilities occurring)

She looks up when Dani walks in, and watches her immediately let out a deep breath. Dani raises an eyebrow.

“He called me a manic pixie dream girl,” she explains.

Dani goes through an extremely complicated face journey in the span of ten seconds. It’s impressive to watch.

“Okay, I’ll bite,” she says, despite Hannah frantically shaking her head from where she’s sitting at the table. “He called you a what now?”

“I didn’t call her a manic pixie dream girl,” Owen clarifies, his mouth twitching in amusement. “I may have just pointed out that her entire life kind of—”

Jamie glares at him. He side-eyes her.

“—maybe—”

Jamie shifts.

“—Dani, she’s threatening me,” he complains, like the giant baby that he is.

Dani walks up to her, slings an arm over her shoulders, and Jamie feels herself relax. Two cords start from where she’s being touched — one sneaks its way over her back and through her body, spreading warmth everywhere it goes; the other goes straight to her heart. It’s almost embarrassing how quick her body goes slack and boneless when Dani is around, as though it’s been reduced, simply, to something malleable in Dani’s tender hands.

“Let him talk, babe,” is whispered into her ear, and well, who is Jamie to argue against someone who happens to own her whole entire heart.

“I just called her a two-dime rom-com love interest archetype,” Owen finally manages to complete. “Because, and this you may have noticed yourself, her entire world revolves around you! And she’s constantly following you around like a puppy dog! And — and — I was bored!”

After a full minute of staring, Dani asks him what’s wrong with that, right when Jamie says that she absolutely does not. The silence that follows just sees them staring at each other, one a deer caught in the headlights of an incoming tornado, the other very offended.

“Oops,” says Owen in the background, the little shit.

*****

She knows Dani’s in the greenhouse even before she emerges from under the table.

That’s a cliché if she’s ever heard one, but the way Dani walks is so distinctive that there’s nothing else in the world like it. Nothing that even comes close to the particular brand of quick click-clack that accompanies her arrival, the way the steps fall like they’re trying to sound more confident than they are, in reality.  

She can almost see what it looks like up there: her girlfriend, probably walking with a cup of some absolutely horrible, disgusting tasting beverage that Jamie would adore regardless of its flavor. Except there’s a second, softer set of footsteps that follow, keep walking, until she raises her head a bit and sees Flora’s tiny slippers pointed right at her.

“Jamie,” Flora announces loudly, “I have come here on behalf of Miss. Clayton, to apologize for the misunderstanding caused in the morning.”

Jamie takes a deep breath so she doesn’t burst out laughing. Damn her girlfriend for using the deadliest weapon available to her.

“Flora,” she answers to no one in particular, “Could you tell Miss. Clayton that her words made Jamie feel undervalued and taken for granted and that her apology is not accepted.”

There’s a pause. “Flora,” Dani says, “Could you tell Jamie that Dani knows her words were thoughtless and while a mistake, not entirely inaccurate and—”

“Flora, could you tell Dani that her apology needs work—”

“—Flora, could you tell Jamie that she needs to let me explain before she starts grumping again—”

“I beg your pardon!” Flora declares over their combined whining. “I’m sorry, Miss Clayton, but I really can’t do this anymore. Could the both of you please, please, talk to each other yourself?

There’s some whispering back and forth, then footsteps running away. Jamie waits.

“Are you gonna come out now?”

“I came out a long time ago.”

She hears Dani sigh, very loudly, then — “You know what I mean.”

“I do know what you mean. Maybe I want to stay down here and not see your face anymore. Did you ever think of that?”  

Dani’s voice turns adoring, and Jamie hates, hates (loves) the way her will bends to it. “But maybe I want to see your face, sweetheart.”

Jamie sticks her tongue out for an embarrassingly long time before she realizes it probably isn’t visible.  

“If you don’t come out of there,” Dani says, “I will get underneath it with you. Fair warning.”

Jamie smiles, waits.

“Coming in three, two, ow!”

And with that Jamie is out from under the table in a flash, leaning over Dani and that massive, red looking bump on her forehead. Her hands are on Dani before she can even think, one gently rubbing at the welt, the other on her cheek.

“Idiot,” she chides, unable to think How bad does it hurt over and over, “Why can’t you be more careful?”

“Why should I when I already have the best girlfriend in the world to do that for me?”

“Dani Clayton, sweet talker extraordinaire,” she says, pretending to swoon. Leans forward, and presses a gentle kiss to the gradually darkening bruise. “Better?”

Dani’s smile when she nods is so wide that her eyes are almost completely closed.

*****

“We don’t do things together.”

“We do plenty of things together.”

“Oh, like that time I cut your roses to make my collage and you told me it was ugly?”

“You cut up my roses to make One Direction fanart!”

“Don’t pretend like you weren’t dancing to Best Song Ever in the kitchen back when it had just come out!”

Hands balled up into fists, faces flushed. Jamie and Miles stare at each other for a minute before they simultaneously relax. Jamie rolls her eyes, passes the gloves over to him.

“You’re the worst,” she says.

“And you’re a.... wait, what was it Owen had called you? A two-dime rom-com love interest?”

She blushes, and is glad for the sun high up in the sky. “Didn’t anyone ever teach you eavesdropping is rude?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, my parents must have skipped that lesson during the time they were still alive.”

“You can’t pull that card on me, remember? I’m also an orphan with major abandonment issues.”

Miles shakes his head, continues pulling up the weeds in the garden bed. He’d been supremely unimpressed when she had dragged him out for “A day of fun”, and true to form, was continuing his trend of being completely unhelpful with her mission to make him do an honest day’s work.

(Also with her mission to prove to the entire household that she could, in fact, do things not involving her girlfriend)

She tells him to suck it up when he complains about the heat. He does look frazzled, though. There’s sweat dripping off of his forehead, and his hair is weirdly plastered to his head in places. He raises his head, looks longingly at the house and Jamie follows his line of sight until she can just barely make out the outline of people moving in the kitchen.

She thinks of Dani inside, and feels such a strange wave of yearning overcome her that her knees feel weak. It’s only been a whole day since she’s talked properly to her girlfriend, but already the thought of sitting next to her, within touching distance has her considering giving up on this entire “avoiding the love of her life to prove a point to a complete dum-dum" endeavor.

“What does it feel like?”  

Jamie drags her eyes away and looks at Miles. He’s looking at her curiously, his palm held over his eyes to shield him from the sun.

“What, gardening?” she asks in response, even though she knows what he really means.

He rolls his eyes. “You know what I mean.”

She thinks it over. “I’m.... not sure. I love her. Just don’t know if I can articulate it well enough for anyone to understand, let alone myself.”

“But how do you know you love her?”

“Gosh, does anyone? It’s always a toss-up. It just feels right to me, I guess. I want to know her favorite everything, to consume her favorite everything because there’s a part of her in them. I trust myself to be ugly around her. To be sad, or happy, or whatever. I trust her to still like me if I’m not the best version of myself around her. It’s.... complicated.”

He nods, not looking like he gets it entirely. “Weird.”

She reaches out to mess up his hair, laughing when he protests. “Ah, you’re young yet. You’ll get there when you do.”

He hums.

“Or — or not!” she scrambles to add. “You might not get there. Which would also be okay. Totally. Okay.”

He smiles at her. “Hopefully not,” he says, lips twitching. “I’d rather die than become a manic pixie dream girl.”

She almost regrets the soil she launches at his face. Almost.

*****

She sneaks into the chapel towards evening, and nearly scares Hannah out of her wits when she turns around.

“Goodness, Jamie,” Hannah gasps, hand on her chest, “What are you doing here?”

“I came.... to pray,” she replies, picking up a random candlestick and flipping it.

Hannah looks at her in that all-knowing way of hers. “I assure you, that’s definitely not the way to do it, then. And I didn’t know you even believed in a higher power.”

“The only higher power I believe in is the stupid woman stomping around the grounds,” she says, wistfully, sinking down onto the bench opposite to where Hannah is already seated. Then immediately pinches herself on the wrist. “Damn it, I’m not supposed to be talking about her. Or to her.”

“Wait,” Hannah says, realization dawning, “Are you avoiding Dani? Is that why you’re here?”

She throws her arms up before resting her face on the corner of the bench in front of her, feeling very much like a smitten Regency era heroine. “If I’m around her, I won’t be able to resist talking to her. Or touching her. Or just, you know, looking at her like she’s the reason the universe was chucked into existence years and years ago. Trust me, it’s easier to avoid her.”

“I am going to kill that man.”

“Eh, it’s not just Owen,” Jamie remarks, in a surprising show of grace. “I’m also afraid I’m being—”

“—what? Sweet? Romantic? Absolutely swoon-worthy?”

“Clingy,” she confesses, feeling embarrassed. “What if I am bothering her by wanting to be with her most of my time?” What if I’m the only one who wants to be with her most of my time? What does that mean? Does that mean she doesn’t love me as much? Want me as much?

Hannah sits and listens patiently. God, Jamie loves her so much. If the concept of best friends existed in her world, this woman would definitely be hers.

“My ex-husband used to think I was clingy,” she says, after a while of deliberation. “Said I never gave him any space. Would get annoyed if I wanted to spend time with him after dinner.”

Jamie lets her continue.

“Remember when I went up to the village in the evening and returned late night, a long time after all of you had eaten?” she asks, and Jamie nods. “I returned at 11, and found Owen asleep at the table, two covered plates lying beside him. The man had waited for me so we could have dinner together, so we could spend half an hour together before we had to go to bed.”

“So here’s the thing,” she goes on, “Space is definitely important in a relationship and I’m pretty sure you and Dani give each other a lot of it. But take it from me, she doesn’t think you’re clingy; she could never think you’re clingy because she’s equally, stupidly in love with you and invested in this.”

Jamie feels something inside her unclench, making it easier for her to breathe. “She loves me?”

Hannah laughs, softly. “Darling, can’t you see it yourself?”

Jamie thinks that she’s beginning to.

*****

“You cannot still be angry at me,” Owen says, after a very awkward ten minutes in the kitchen together.

“Try me,” she snarks back, although it lacks bite. Her anger is easy; it rises up like a furious hurricane within minutes and is swept away just as soon.

“Okay fine,” he admits, sitting on the chair next to her as he hands her a glass of lemonade, “Fine, you’re not a manic pixie dream—”

“—two-dime romcom love interest archetype, I believe it was—”

“—okay alright, then that too. I was just—”

“—but I was!” bursts out of her in a rush, and she slumps over the table, facedown. “I spent the entire day away from her and still couldn’t stop talking about her or thinking about her or wanting her. You know what? I know that makes me pathetic but I want to talk about my girlfriend to others! She’s perfect! She’s amazing! Ethereal! Beautiful! An angel! And I am a — a stupid love interest!”

He laughs, the asshole, and then thumps her back.

“Jamie,” he starts, “Come on. Do you think I can stop thinking about Hannah when we’re apart? Or that I don’t always want her near me? For heaven’s sake, I’m always making random snacks during the day so I can have an excuse to track her down and feed her.”

She looks at him, the embarrassment now turning to acute irritation. “Then why would you — wait, you know what — you’re a fucking asshole!”

He can’t stop laughing. Grabs her into a headlock so she can’t get up and continues laughing until she pinches at his arm.

“Are you still angry?” he inquires, after he’s done catching his breath.

“Yes!”

“Jamie, my darling,” he says, very formally, “I was just angry because we hadn’t spent time together in so damn long.”

She regards him. “What? No? We hung out just—”

He waits.

“—oh.”

“Last time we got drunk together was two weeks ago. Then, nada. I’m not saying that it’s all you. God knows I’ve done my fair share of forgetting to hang out because I was already with Hannah and it was difficult to tear myself away, I just — yeah.”

The smile that she can feel creeping up all over her face is the devil. “Owen, are you saying you miss me?”

His face darkens. “Oh fuck you.”

“Owen Sharma misses me, Owen Sharma misses me....”

“Jaime, I’m literally going to kill you.”

*****

She screams when Dani does and nearly falls off the ledge.

(Listen, in her defense, she hasn’t seen her girlfriend in over 24 hours. A show of impulse romance by climbing up the ledge right up to Dani’s room can certainly be excused)

(Also, she’s a little drunk)

“You scared me!” she says, with Dani now holding on to her.

“I scared you?” Dani exclaims. “You — I turned around and you’re suddenly at the window like a haunted owl or something.”

“Why the fuck would an owl haunt you?”

Dani opens her mouth, then closes it again. Jamie counts it as a personal victory.

She climbs over the window and lands on the inside of the room. Dani leans forward, kisses her, then draws back.

“Are you — are you drunk?”

“A little,” Jamie disentangles from her to raise her right hand with her thumb and forefinger held a tiny span apart. “Only a leetle. I was with Owen.”

“Ah, so the manic pixie dream girl and best boy have made up?” Dani teases, then quickly kisses her cheek when she protests.

“How did your experiment go?” she adds.

“Terrible. Horrible,” Jamie answers. “I kept talking about you wherever I went. It was embarrassing. If there is a lesbian equivalent of the Bechdel test, we most certainly did not pass it.”

Dani kisses at her pout until it switches to a smile, and Jamie can physically feel the elation fill her body until she guesses she’s probably floating on air by now. There’s something about being around Dani that relaxes every part of her, makes her feel so light that she thought if she could just jump hard enough, she’d float away like a heart-shaped balloon. Jamie tightens her hold on Dani, buries her face in her hair, and breathes her in until all of her senses are filled up with her.

(If wanting to hug her girlfriend like a panda all the time makes her clingy, so be it)

“If it makes you feel any better,” Dani says, still hugging her, “I couldn’t stop talking about you either. I kept bugging Hannah or Owen or whoever was nearest, asking them what you were up to. A really pretty song played on the radio and I thought — I can dance with Jamie to this. I tried watching a movie, and all I could think was, If Jamie had been here, she would definitely have hidden her face in my shoulder at this part. I was cold and lonely at night, and I thought If Jamie were here, she would have put her hand on my—”

“—Dani!” she says, scandalized.

“—back to warm me up,” Dani completes, smoothly, and then pulls back to look at her. “So we could cuddle and go to sleep. Why, what were you thinking?”

Jamie tries, she really does. However, only five seconds later, she’s kissing her stupid, annoying, idiotic girlfriend again.

“Let’s never do that, okay?” she says. “I kept tossing and turning all night.”

“You’re telling me,” Dani deadpans. “I slept on the floor on a mattress because the bed was just too damn empty without you there.”

“The drama,” Jamie says, although she’s smiling too wide for it to register. “Well, hopefully, you wouldn’t have to sleep without your angsty, brooding love interest ever again.”

“Oh,” Dani quirks an eyebrow, tilts her head. “Does that mean this is our happy ending?”

Jamie kisses her again, feels her smile and is more inclined to think they’re in the wonderful, beautiful, middle forever.

[dtrhwithalex]

TV | Loki (104)

104: THE NEXUS EVENT

D: KATE HERRON. W: ERIC MARTIN. Original Air Date: 30 June 2021.

Non-spoiler-free recap and review of the fourth episode of LOKI, which airs every Wednesday on Disney+.

RECAP

As Loki and Sylvie watch the world around them slowly but surely fall into complete destruction and collapse, the TVA is scrambling to locate the two and recapture them. Ravonna Renslayer especially is desperate to have the two variants located, being put under pressure by the Time Keepers. It is also revealed that is was Renslayer herself who was the one to pluck Sylvie from the time line and declare her a variant -- when Sylvie was merely a child, still on Asgard. It is also from Renslayer that Sylvie subsequently escapes and, as she reveals to Loki, has been on the run and in hiding ever since, growing up in apocalypses which were the only place her mere presence did not cause any nexus events.

Sharing a heartfelt moment as Sylvie recounts her life, she and Loki create enough chaos to spark a nexus event even within an ongoing apocalypse, allowing the TVA to locate and recapture them. Once captured, they are separated, with Renslayer forbidding anyone to interrogate Sylvie, while Mobius has Loki thrown in a time-loop -- where he is repeatedly threatened and beaten by LADY SIF (JAIMIE ALEXANDER) in a memory from Loki's earlier life on Asgard, where he as a joke cut off Sif's hair. After finally admitting that he played jokes out of loneliness and a desperate need for attention, Mobius retrieves Loki from the time-loop and takes him back to one of the TVA's interrogation rooms.

Loki tries to make Mobius understand that everything about the TVA is a lie -- as Sylvie has told him -- but Mobius does not trust him. He baits him into revealing what caused the nexus event on Lamentis-1 by telling him Sylvie has been disintegrated, and gets Loki to admit that he cares for her. Accusing him of such narcissism that he fell in love with himself, Mobius closes the case and has Loki returned to the time-loop.

Despite his distrust in Loki, Mobius questions Renslayer about what had happened to C-20 and her intentions behind not letting him talk to Sylvie, and eventually steals her TemPad to investigate the matter further. He learns that C-20 confirmed what Loki had tried to tell him: everyone at the TVA is a Variant, plucked from the timeline and brainwashed to serve the Time Keepers. Returning to Loki's time-loop he admits that Loki was right and wants to help him, but they are quickly found out by Renslayer, and she disintegrates Mobius.

Meanwhile, Hunter B-15, despite Renslayer's orders, went to see Sylvie and took her back to the apocalypse they had found her in. Questioning her about her powers, B-15 reveals that she, too, had been having memories of another life since Sylvie had controlled her. Sylvie shows her the memories again, effectively gaining B-15 as an ally.

Following the disintegration of Mobius, Renslayer takes Loki and Sylvie to see the Time Keepers who wish to witness their destruction. However, once in their chambers, Loki and Sylvie are freed from their constraints by B-15 and a fight between them and the TVA ensue. Gaining the advantage, Loki and Sylvie eventually find themselves free of any enemies, and Sylvie attacks one of the Time Keepers with her sword. The Time Keeper is beheaded and, as the head falls to their feet, Loki and Sylvie realise that these three beings are merely robotic avatars and not the real Time Keepers.

Without any way to destroy the Time Keepers and the TVA, Sylvie is lost. Loki, reminiscent of their moment on Lamentis-1 and Mobius' accusation of romantic feelings between the two, tries to communicate to Sylvie whatever it is he is feeling, but before he can make her understand, he is disintegrated by Renslayer who turns out to be alive, still.

The mid-credit scene reveals that Loki did, in fact, not die, but finds himself in another realm where he is greeted by various other incarnations of himself. Prominently among them: CLASSIC LOKI (RICHARD E. GRANT), KID LOKI (JACK VEAL), and BOASTFUL LOKI (DEOBIA OPAREI).

FAVOURITE MOMENTS

Loki is back in Mobius' presence and we are immediately back to bantering like an old married couple and I very much appreciated that. These two have such a lovely dynamic, I adore it. Never thought I would say that, but I really do. I love Owen Wilson in this role very much and he and Tom have such great chemistry.

I also really liked Hunter B-15 taking Sylvie back to the apocalypse they had found her in, and asks her about C-20 and the memories the both of them have lived while Sylvie controlled them. Her chocked back sob and then the "I looked happy" was just so nicely done. I was very happy to see that B-15 was immediately ready to team up with Sylvie and drop the TVA at a moment's notice.

The same goes for Mobius. I loved that, despite Loki's betrayal and the fact that he was so set in not wanting to trust him again, Mobius still couldn't shake the feeling that Loki's comment was more than just a quip and went to investigate. He is not just a mindless follower of orders and I love that very much about him.

FAVOURITE CHARACTER(S)

My main man Loki, always and forever. I adore this version of Loki so much. He is so much fun! I love that we get this actually, truly mischievous Loki, this chaotic mess. He isn't brooding and full of evil plans. No! He wants shenanigans and fun. I love it. And I love that we get to see more of his vulnerable side too.

But also, Mobius! My man! He's back!!! If this man doesn't get to ride a jet ski at least once I will be very upset. I will also be very upset if he is actually gone now. (Cannot believe I am saying this about an Owen Wilson character. This is new. Good on you, Owen, good on you.)

QUESTIONS, CURIOSITIES

Less a question and more a demand: if the mid-credit scene means Loki exists somewhere after being disintegrated, Mobius better be alive somewhere. I want that lad back, whole and in one piece. You hear me, Marvel? Otherwise you might have yourself another CoulsonLives on your hand, you just watch.

I've already seen a bunch of reactions to the whole Loki/Sylvie thing and most either go with happily shipping along, or being very against this concept out of some sort of incestuous concerns. And I feel like, am I the only one who watched that scene as neither romantic nor incestuous as such, but more as Loki being very confused?

Apart from Frigga, and possibly, to some degree and especially earlier in life, the brotherly love of Thor, I don't think Loki has ever felt love. And for the first time there is someone who not just understands him completely, but also accepts him exactly as he is. Especially following their conversation about love in 103, I think what was between Sylvie and Loki on Lamentis-1 that caused the nexus event, and makes Mobius accuse Loki of being in love with her, is not a romantic sense of love, but in a way a certain self-acceptance?

I'm sure Loki has some kinds of feelings but he doesn't know what they are or how to categorise them. And he is very confused about liking Sylvie and caring that she is alright. But I don't think he would have understood it as romantic love without Mobius' accusation of it. I don't think it's narcissism either. What I saw, was a glimmer of Loki realising that he can love himself, he can accept himself. If Sylvie, who is him, understands and accepts him, then so can he. But yeah, I'm curious to see where they're gonna go with this, certainly.

OVERALL IMPRESSION

Generally, this episode was absolutely amazing. Every week I keep finding myself becoming the shocked Pikachu meme while watching the episode, but this week especially. I can't wait to see what next week brings, and I hope very much that we find out Mobius is, in fact, still alive somewhere.

[still image taken from the episode's imdb page]