#but Nate gets hurt anyway. Because at the end of the day the Detective has feelings for Adam too

[drakesroyalromance]

It has been a day and I cannot stop thinking about the symbolism of this for the Love Triangle. The Detective not wanting to hurt either Adam or Nate but hurting them both as a result, which just hurts her more

[queerbrujas]

then it vanished away from my hands (part three)

pairing: nate sewell x eva navarro rating: T word count: 4k (10.1k total so far) warnings: angst (with no happy ending, though there’s a lot of comfort in this chapter). discussions about mortality and loss of agency. murphy trauma and flashbacks.

After discovering the reason why she can't turn, Eva tries (and fails) to come to terms with it.

part one | part two | read on ao3

this fic was originally meant to have three parts, but uh, that didn’t happen. current plan is to have it be four or five, depending on how the writing goes.

—

part three: my sense of self I lost somewhere

Eva’s eyes squeeze shut.

She’s all out of tears.

How long has she been sitting here?

This is—this is not working.

She can't be alone right now.

She can't be here right now, in this place that was once home to her and where there is nothing left that is familiar or comforting. Nothing but void, a shell filled with what’s left of the covered furniture she couldn’t get rid of.

The only thing here is—

is—

fuck.

The only thing here that seems alive and vivid is the image playing behind her eyelids of the apartment flooded with bright red smoke, the sounds of crashing and breaking, of Rebecca telling her to run, of Nate—

And a cold, cold voice that rings in her head, louder than every other sound.

She’s back outside in the rain. It soaks her to the bone, makes her shiver.

You are rather special, after all, Detective Navarro.

Why, why the hell did she think of coming here, of all places?

I do so prefer the quiet ones.

There isn’t enough air, she’s not getting enough air. She tries to gasp for it, to take deep breaths, but it’s not enough. When she opens her eyes the white walls of the apartment are closing in and her vision is blurred, hazy (not smoke, it’s not smoke, it’s not). A trapped scream tries to fight its way up her throat.

She wants to let it out. Scream. Thrash.

Tear her skin apart and climb out of her body.

This is not working.

This is not working—this won’t work.

She’s not going to be able to make it out of here on her own. Not out of the apartment, not off of the goddamn floor.

The sudden moment of clarity, tenuous and brittle as it is, spurs her into action.

Her phone. She pulls her phone out of the pocket of her jacket: her hands are still shaking, and it takes her at least three attempts to get hold of it. Once she has it, it slips between her fingers and clatters to the floor.

She flinches at the noise. She’s going to start sobbing again.

She flexes her fingers. Breathe. Breathe.

Eventually, she manages it.

For just a split second, she considers calling, then decides against it. That won’t do. She doesn’t trust herself to speak without bursting into tears again.

I'm at my old apartment. Can you come over?, she writes, hits send. Then a second text: Please.

The reply comes before she’s had time to lock her phone again: there in 2 seconds.

She loses track of time again after that, closes her eyes and would not be able to say, later, how long she spent like this. What is left of her rational brain tells her not more than a few minutes can have passed before Farah is already there in a whirlwind.

Alarm is evident in the way her eyes shoot wide open as soon as she sees her, in the way she's kneeling down by Eva's side faster than her (human, human) eyes can register.

“Hey, hey.” The words tumble out of her quickly, blurring together. “Eva, what happened?”

Farah has seen her cry before, she’s seen her desperate and distressed and upset, but she’s never seen her like this.

She examines her, the way she’s sitting on the floor with her knees held to her chest, the sorry state of her—clearly looking for signs of physical injury. When she seems satisfied she’s found none, she takes a breath: the alarm fades, but the concern deepens.

“What’s wrong? Did something—” Farah interrupts herself, purses her lips and waits for Eva to answer.

Eva’s throat feels raw; her thoughts scrambled, paper-thin. Connecting them, stringing them into something so complicated as language seems a monumental, almost impossible task. Just the thought of it makes her throat start to close up again.

She shakes her head. “Don't want to talk about it.” Speaking hurts, physically—even more than she thought it would.

Farah nods, as though having been expecting it.

She knows her well, after all.

They all do.

Farah reaches out, slowly, and lets her hand hover just over Eva’s knee. She doesn't touch her, knows better than to touch her, but it's close enough that Eva feels the warmth through her clothes.

“Do you want me to just sit here with you for a while? We don't have to go back home yet.”

Eva barely manages to choke back a dry sob at the mention of home, but unexpected relief washes over her all the same. Relief and gratefulness to Farah for putting into words what she certainly wouldn't have been able to think of. Not now.

She gives a quick nod. “Please,” she croaks.

Farah attempts a smile that manages to be warm despite the evident strain in it. She moves then, with a grace that Eva has envied before and which makes something in her chest constrict now, to settle more comfortably on the floor, legs crossed under her, facing Eva.

“Then we’re not going anywhere until you say so,” she says.

Soothing. Calming. Farah always knows how to be comforting.

“Thank you,” Eva sighs. Farah hums her assent.

With her here, real and solid in front of Eva, the red smoke and the crashing sounds and the voices seem to fade little by little into what they are: a distant memory, years old by now. Not real. Not something that can hurt her now.

(Except it lives under her skin, the consequence of it, the result of it, she’ll never be free of it—

Stop.

Stop, stop, stop.

Stop that thought dead in its tracks.)

A while later, Eva’s breathing still hasn’t gone back to normal. It’s still quick and ragged, shallow.

“Hey,” Farah speaks quietly, a low whisper that barely breaks the silence.

She waits for Eva to open her eyes—when had she closed them? How long has it been?—before speaking again.

“Give me your hands?” She says it as one would a question, extending her own, palms facing up.

Eva hesitates for a second—but only for a second.

The hesitation is instinctive, but the action is conscious. She places her hands in Farah’s, and Farah smiles at her.

With the warmth of the touch she’s reminded of the few times she’s done this before, in other circumstances.

Farah taking her hands and teaching her to dance, despite her initial, half-hearted protests.

Farah dragging her to celebrate her birthday because it was on the same day as hers and of course they needed a celebration; no, sneaking away with Nate to the library did not count, what part of it’s our birthday and we should have a party did she not understand?

Farah helping her stand up after a bad injury she’d sustained during a mission, the fear in her eyes eclipsed by the quick resolve to get her away.

She’s reminded of this, of all this. Of Farah’s liveliness and warmth but also of the way she always seems to understand how she feels, long before words are spoken.

Eva doesn’t quite manage to return Farah’s smile, but her lips twitch a little.

“Good,” Farah says. Her thumbs rub circles on the palms of Eva’s hands, and something soft in her eyes seems to make them glow golden, brighter than their usual amber. Something soft and sad and old, because as young as Farah seems, Eva is all too acutely aware (especially now, especially here, with a sting that doesn’t seem to go away) that she is still close to three times her age.

“Breathe with me?” Farah asks, before Eva’s thoughts can spiral too far in that direction.

Eva nods.

Farah breathes. Eva breathes.

It’s a deeper breath than any she’s taken since she got here.

They spend a while like this, until exhaustion finally settles in, weary and bone-deep. Until she’s staying here out of pure stubbornness, and when Farah quietly asks “home?” Eva does nothing but squeeze her hand and nod.

—

She tries then, she tries to adjust to the new information.

To move forward.

It’s what she’s always done. It’s the only thing that can be done.

She lets the rest of Unit Bravo know about the results (thinks for half a second about not saying anything, but she could never hide anything like this from them) and then refuses to discuss them at all.

It is what it is. If there is nothing that can be done to change it—and it has been made very clear to her that there is nothing that can be done, not about this—then there is no point in wasting time and energy thinking about it.

Because if she starts thinking about it, she’s not sure what she will do.

If she starts thinking about it, it’ll be back to the apartment, back to the rain, back to that other warehouse.

And if she starts thinking about it, she’s going to have to think about how all the reasons she had for wanting to turn in the first place are still there. They have not gone anywhere, except that now she has no way to deal with them.

She’s not sure if she feels numb or if she only wishes she did.

She thinks about it, anyway, whenever her gaze falls on the faint, jagged marks on her wrist, paler than the light brown of her skin.

For years she’d almost forget the scar was there, the memories associated with it pushed back to the deep corners of her mind. Now it seems to exert a gravitational pull of its own, drawing her sight to it without her permission.

She thinks about it whenever she remembers—and she remembers it often these days, can’t seem to pull the thought from her mind—that the blood in her veins is not her own. The whole of her body has been made into a foreign object; unrecognizable, enactor of violence upon itself.

The nightmares are worse than they’ve ever been.

—

It takes three days for Nate to bring it up: he’d been waiting for her to do it first.

He does it as gently as ever, as softly as ever. With a kiss to her forehead and hands seeking her skin, brushing down her arms. Perhaps hoping his touch would soothe the sting.

He seems almost apologetic, as though she could break at any moment.

Who’s to say she won’t?

“Joonam,” he whispers. “Will you tell me what’s on your mind?”

(Joonam, he calls her.

He calls her many things in many different languages, but this is the one he always, always comes back to.

Mi vida, she calls him.

Not as often as he does—she was never one for pet names—but often enough.

The thought forms before she can crush it: it seems almost cruel, now, that they’ve dug so deep to call each other my life when he will outlive her by an infinite amount.)

And the look in his eyes makes her want to cry all over again. He’s pleading with her, keeping the emotion from his voice but it’s clear in the way he looks at her.

Fuck, this won’t work.

She can’t keep doing this. She can’t do what she always does, not with this.

Because being with Nate has never been easy.

It has been many things—it has been love and passion and comfort and truth, but it has never been easy or painless. It has never been natural or effortless or uncomplicated.

They don’t fit together like that.

What it has been is a choice, constant and conscious. A choice to go against her instincts—her instincts that tell her to hide, to never stop moving, to raze what’s left and never look back—and open herself up in ways that leave her raw and exposed but so vibrantly, painfully alive.

(A choice that she’d been willing to make for the rest of eternity, even if it never got easier.

A choice that he makes for her, too.)

Poke around in the wound to dig the bullet out.

Her instincts tell her to pull back, and there are words on the tip of her tongue that she swallows down.

Slowly, she takes one of his hands in hers, brings it to her mouth to brush a delicate kiss against his knuckles.

“I will,” she says, eyes closed. If she opens them the words might not come out. “We’ll talk about it, I promise. Just—give me a little time, please. Just a little time.”

Nate breathes out a sigh that sounds like relief drowned in concern.

“Of course,” he says. “Anything you need.”

—

The water in the bathtub has cooled around them; the steam dissipated long ago.

Even in the cooling air, they have not moved in a while: Eva leans back against Nate’s chest with her eyes closed, his arms wrapped loosely around her as he presses sweet, barely-there kisses to the birthmarks on her shoulders. He follows paths he has mapped and memorized countless times before, ones that feel familiar on her skin.

Ones that should be soothing.

As slowly as ever, Nate lets his kisses trail up the side of her neck. They are soft, featherlight; his lips ghost over the multiple marks that have accumulated there before lavishing her with an attention that makes her shiver.

For the longest time, this was something he would not allow himself.

For the longest time, he would shy away from Eva’s neck as though burnt, and the first time he let her see the fear in his eyes as his fingertips traced the line of her throat is a moment that remains imprinted on her mind.

(She took his hand and pressed it more firmly against the side of her neck, against the beating pulse there. Gentle, almost as gentle as he always was with her—and always offering him the choice to draw back. He almost stopped breathing, but his eyes never left hers, and that single instant stretched out into moments, into something she still struggles to name.)

A lifetime seems to have passed since then.

He does not shy away from it now. Not now.

“I wish we could stay like this,” Eva murmurs.

Just this, right here.

A single moment, endless. One where nothing else matters or even exists. One where the thoughts that have been plaguing her have no power or importance.

“We can,” Nate whispers in return. His breath is warm, still close to her skin, and he follows it with another kiss directly over her pulse. “As long as you want to.”

She lets out a sigh. It would be so easy.

God, so easy.

So easy it’s terrifying.

The temptation to never talk about it again hasn’t gone away.

But thoughts become corrosive. They seep into every last piece of her sanity that she’s tried to keep safe. Into every dream and every waking moment until nothing, nothing remains untainted.

The way she flinches when she sees the scar, when she barely paid attention to it before. The way she looks at herself in the mirror and finds flaws she hadn’t noticed, the way she sometimes wants nothing more than to open her skin and drain out the blood to get it all out. Maybe that would help.

No, it would not be that easy.

“Not that long,” she forces herself to say. The words are always stuck in her throat, and they will not come out on their own. “Not forever.”

Nate’s kisses stop, and the briefest moment of tension tightens his embrace—something Eva might not have noticed if she didn’t know him like she does. But he speaks into the crook of her neck, tenderness the only thing in the softness of his voice. “Do you want to talk about it now?”

It has only been a few days since he’d mentioned it.

“I don’t think I’ll ever want to talk about it,” Eva admits. “But I have to stop acting like it’s something we don’t have to talk about.”

She sighs again, sinking further against him. Her own hands come to rest on his arms, wrapping them more tightly around her. “I just don’t know what to do. Where do we go from here?”

Nate hums, a soft sound she’s come to recognize as a contradictory mix of subtle exasperation and patience, tempered by love and concern. She’s been on the receiving end of it more than a few times. “We’ll get to that part. Let’s take it one thing at a time.”

Unspoken: For now, just tell me how you feel.

Also unspoken (because it has been spoken too many times): You don’t have to solve everything by yourself. You don’t have to solve everything right away.

He knows her too well.

It makes her want to cry, that he knows her this well.

“I just never thought about this.” Didn’t think it wouldn’t work. “I didn’t even consider it.” Her voice is barely above a whisper. Small. So fucking defeated.

Because if she can’t do anything—

“None of us did,” Nate says, and that cuts deep, too.

He does not have defeat in his voice like she does, but the barely concealed pain is enough to make her eyes sting.

The fact that he’s trying to conceal it at all.

For her sake.

Dammit, Nate.

Because if she can’t do anything, then what’s left?

(“Nate, I don't get to have a normal life.” She’d been trying not to raise her voice, to rein in the tremor in her words. Trying, and failing. “Not with this blood, not with these scars. Not with everything that's happened to me already. Do you think anyone can be normal after that?”

One of the many times they’d argued about this. He had tried, wanted to show her value in humanity that she could never see.

He’d turn back, he’d choose to be human, to be mortal, if only he could.

“Even if I could have that,” she’d added, more quietly. “I don’t want it. If this all went away, what do you think would be left of me?”)

She shifts in his arms, turns around until she can face him.

“I wanted this, Nate.” She lifts a hand to close her fingers around the pendant that hangs from her neck, the one she never takes off, the one he gave her. She closes them so tightly her nails dig into her palm. “I wanted us, like this, forever. I wanted it so much I don’t know how to be anything else anymore. Nothing else makes sense even if I try.”

Nate covers her hand with his own, both closed around the pendant. He hesitates before speaking, examining her with eyes that betray the depth of feeling in them, but eventually, he does. “I know nothing can dull the pain of having the choice taken from you,” he says, careful, too careful. He’s been through this. “I know that. I would give everything I have to spare you that hurt.”

“But I’m—” A soft breath escapes his lips, something that is not intentional, something that is far less controlled. “I’m not going anywhere. I will make that promise a thousand times over. It will still be… it can still be forever, for you. You still have us. You still have me.”

“And you’ll just watch? You’ll watch me get older, weaker, god knows what else? You’ll be okay with that? With watching me die?”

The questions leave her mouth like bullets, one after the other.

Harsh. Too raw. The things neither of them wants to hear.

She’s the one panicking, now.

She’s said this before.

And Nate flinches, flinches at the bluntness of it—she wants to take it back at that, even when she knows it has to be said—but it does not make his voice waver when he speaks. “I love you,” he says, as though that answers all her questions. “Nothing can change that. Every second you’ve chosen to give me has been something precious, something I have treasured, and it will continue to be, no matter what.”

One of his hands moves to tangle in the wet locks of her hair. To hold her in place, staring into the depth of his brown eyes, eyes that reflect back the same hurt she feels even if he will not say it.

“Before we talked about this, before you decided to turn, I—I knew I might not have you forever. I didn’t dare to hope I would, didn’t dare to think of it. But loving you is worth any pain that might come from it.”

Her throat constricts, and the emotion in Nate’s voice dulls the edge she’d imparted to her words. Of course Nate would say this. Of course he would think this, would feel this.

He would break himself to keep her.

He would break himself for her, without even a hint of hesitation.

(I won’t do that to you. She’d said that.)

She looks away, blinking to get rid of the tears that prickle at her eyes. She fixes her stare on the edge of the bathtub: gleaming, burnished copper misted over with condensation.

Instead of following that line of thought—she doesn’t trust herself to—she grasps at something else. Something that stabs with equal force at her chest.

It sounds like someone else speaking when she says, “I don’t want to be less than you.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees the way he frowns.

“Being human doesn't make you less, Eva.” Nate is resolute, his voice firm even in its warmth, echoes of a recurring argument neither of them had ever won.

“But it does,” she counters, voice cracking and desperate, turning her face back to meet his eyes. “Don’t you see it? It does, and it will always feel that way. I already have to try so hard just to keep up. What happens when I can’t anymore? What happens when my body gives up, when I'm too slow, too weak to go on missions?”

Why won’t he see it?

She has tried. Tried to make up for her lack of abilities, for her humanity. She has tried to attenuate it, to make sure it does not become a burden.

She has learned combat from Morgan and Adam, spent hours upon hours in the training room with them until she can barely stand, until Adam smiles at her after a well-placed hit, until Morgan throws a towel for her to catch and there’s nothing but pride in the look she gives her.

She has studied the supernatural world in every way she can; submerged herself in it, let it coat every cell of her body and every neuron in her brain.

It is what she breathes.

And she’s been forced out of it.

“That still wouldn’t make you less, nothing could.” The affection, the love in his voice burns. “There is so much more to you than what you can do.”

She shakes her head.

“I swore I wouldn’t be a burden to this team. And you know how I am, Nate, I couldn’t bear—I don’t want to get left behind. And I will. You’ll keep on being who you are and I… won’t.”

The tears aren’t pricking at her eyes anymore. They are falling.

The words aren’t stuck in her throat anymore.

“Everything I told you I didn’t want, all of it, that’s going to happen and there’s nothing I can do about it. And I have this thing inside me that’s making it all happen and my body isn’t mine anymore. I don’t get a say in any of it.”

She leans forward to rest her head on his shoulder, seeking the comfort of his touch even when it won’t, it can’t be enough. Not for this.

She is instantly enveloped in his arms, drawing her closer against him.

“I’m sorry, mi vida,” she whispers against his skin. “I just don’t know what to do.”

“I’m sorry, too,” he answers, quiet, almost too quiet, into her hair.

And there is a thought.

Because if there is nothing she can do—

But this is one she refuses to even entertain. To acknowledge.

I won’t do that to you.

She’d said that.

[weakzen]

Left on the detective’s desk, a single red rose and a note written in precise handwriting:

Alex,

What happened to you - you didn’t deserve it. You can be loved, if you let yourself.

Happy Valentine’s Day

(yolo experimental style; alex/mason, early established relationship, angst and fluff; no direct mention of abuse, just oblique circling and fatalistic thoughts; rated m for mason; also on AO3~)

Even though I didn't finish reading it, even though I hid it from sight, imprisoned it in darkness, cast it to the depths of the bottom drawer until the end of shift, when it would be possible to smuggle the thing into the break room recycle bin without risking Tina's eyes or interrogation, that stupid fucking note has somehow still managed to reach up through all those heavy files and twist my stomach into knots.

For hours.

Plucking my nerves hard enough to make my hands fucking shake too. Typos in every report, backspace key pulling overtime without pay. Not helped by eyes that won't stop stinging. Armpits that haven't fully dried either, along with a weird chill, shivers that persist despite the sweater and the cranked-up thermostat.

At least the rose is gone. Snuck it into the arrangement on Tina's desk, the one I get her every year.

It looks better surrounded by friends.

It was nice to see it on the desk this morning

(Can still smell it perfuming the air.)

And if I could get rid of my thoughts as easily, I would. Because after half a day of chasing them in circles, I still can't figure out who the fuck sent that goddamn note, who the fuck would write something like that—say shit like that, to me—who could possibly fucking think or know or say anything about that, or that I-I, that I—

Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckingfuck.

That sickly feeling wrenches again, hard enough to jerk me forward over the desk, face buried in my hands while my breathing shudders into something unsteady and vaguely gasping.

Fuck.

It can't be Tina.

It can't.

It should be, but it can't.

The writing's not loopy enough to be hers, and it's not slanted enough to be Verda's, and the damn thing isn't covered in nearly enough heart stickers to be from Felix. We all should know. Nate's been sighing nonstop for the past week, scraping them off every available surface in the Warehouse—except for the lacy pink one Felix managed to sneak right between Adam's shoulders.

And the glittery red one I pressed covertly to Mason's ass.

(Maybe not so covertly. Found a few hearts stuck to my underwear later when I slipped outta my jeans, and the secrets of how the fuck he pulled that off are still locked behind his smirk.)

A smile tries to pull at my lips, but the tightness in my gut warps it crooked.

Another shuddery breath.

It can't be from Adam either. If he had something to say to me, he'd just say it, preferably after he finished laying me out on the mats, all sweaty and sucking down air from another session of his gentle ass-kicking. Nate, however, would write a note to me. Has written a note to me. Has written many notes to me and still not made a dent in that stack of expensive stationary, and although the card stock was silk cream, the pigment obsidian night, and the calligraphy swooping in almost a dead ringer, I know it can't be from Nate because he would never leave a rose with his words, not the ones meant for me.

But there isn't anyone else.

There's Mason

And it can't be from him.

It's not his handwriting, to start. I think. I'm pretty sure. I've never actually seen his writing, but I can't imagine it would be anything resembling neat or careful. It's gotta be complete chicken scratch. All cramped and illegible. He's left handed too, barely patient enough to sit through a stoplight, much less give ink the time to dry, so there'd be definitely be smears, and there weren't any smears. At all. Can't be him.

Not to mention he'd never do anything like this.

Don't know why he keeps coming to mind anyway. Just because we're…

Together

—for now.

Doesn't mean he'd ever say anything like that—

He already has

(He did. He said I deserved better and I believe him, but I don't, I can't.)

—only because he'd say differently if he knew.

If he really knew.

He'd say different and I'm not gonna fucking tell him and it doesn't fucking matter anyway, it doesn't. Shine's gonna wear off soon enough. Novelty, satisfied. Boredom, returning. And at least the conversation won't be awkward, just… blunt. To the point. A first for us both, in topic, if not style.

I've never been dumped before, at least not in a romantic sense.

Another breath. Another shuddery breath.

Wonder how it's gonna feel.

(It's gonna suck.)

No fucking shit.

If it can't last, why agree to it at all?

I rub hard at my eyes, grinding palms into sockets.

If it can't last, why not tell him anyway?

Because I already fucking know! Don't need to hear it from him, don't wanna hear it from—

If it can't last, why does it matter what he thinks?

“…Stupid fucking note.”

It was nice to see it on the desk this morning

(Someone took the time, wrote it, left it in here. Someone cares.)

Someone's playing a sick fucking joke, more like.

What if it's genuine?

I scoff ragged, squeezing fingers around the back of my neck.

(Tina cares. So does Verda. The whole team, so many others, I know, and I believe them all but I don't. I can't.)

What if you didn't deserve it?

I did. I stayed and I did. My fault. Fucking stupid, like he always said.

(All Mason ever speaks is care. In a thousand different ways of touch, in silence, in lingering looks, he cares.)

What if you can be loved?

What if you can?

A brittle laugh wheezes past my lips and shoots toward something hysterical, boosted by acid burn and cloying petals and that churning, churning tightness. My shoulders hunch high around my ears while the sound pitches even higher, lungs immolated and screaming along, nails digging, cutting crescents as I shake and curl tighter, smaller, compacting into stiffness hard enough to rival diamonds, every muscle verging on a cramp and my throat is stinging and my eyes are on fire, hot, wet, and the door is closed, the blinds shut, and maybe I could just— this time— if I stayed quiet, I could—

I could—

But I don't.

I swallow once, twice, suck down, blink it away, then snap upright and get back to work. There's too much shit, not enough time.

Never enough time, not for that.

For you

(Remember to eat lunch.)

I don't.

I don't really remember talking to anyone either. Or finishing paperwork. Answering email. Clearing the inbox backlog, digital and otherwise, but the stack depletes, the numbers go down, Tina gives me shit from the doorway, and soon the peripheral lights tick off overhead in the foyer, a mop bucket rattles its rounds, darkness crept into my office at some point for a visit and now it's here to stay, just its quiet company along with the monitor blasting eye strain, clacking keys, tight shoulders, a headache, and then—

A familiar ass plops down on my desk and scares the shit out of me.

I jerk back in the chair, wheels rolling, hand over heart to keep it from pounding free and Mason looms above it all, bathed in harsh blues, deep shadows, a deeper frown, and eyes that refuse to obey the rules of any ambient illumination.

Right now? They're crinkled soft, even as they scrutinize.

He looks… worried.

When did he even open my door?

“You okay, sweetheart?”

“…Yeah,” I mutter. A lie, an obvious one, but I fight the urge to glance away and dare him to call me out anyway. “You need something, sunshine?”

A muscle in his jaw twitches. “You're late.”

“For what?”

We didn't make plans.

“Getting home.”

Fuck.

I sigh, slumping in the seat, and now I'm looking away, now I'm backing down, running a hand through my hair, mussing and tangling, just like he always does when he's uncertain.

And when the hell did I start doing that?

“Yeah, I'm still behind on shit from my vacation. I was gonna stay late tonight, try and catch up…” I explain, because Tina and I also didn't make plans this year.

(Because she's been marinating in smugness ever since I sighed and told her about the relationship. Because she dropped that shit-eating smirk earlier—that I remember, at least—dripping suggestion all over my office as she waggled her brows and winked and made obnoxious kissy faces until I shoved her out the door, but not before she told me to 'have lots of fun tonight, Alexandra.')

Sure.

“Sorry I didn't text. I… forgot.”

That tightness in my stomach does another loop, and I huff a quiet breath.

Stupid fucking note.

Mason folds his arms. “…The fuck is going on with you?”

Concern blunts the teeth of his words, not that there's any real bite. There never is, not with him, but I tense up anyway, expecting it, expecting to be ripped open.

Blood and pain.

I'd tense up no matter how he asked.

It's okay

(He's not Bobby.)

“Nothing,” I reply, folding my arms, eyes down, “just…”

It's okay

(He's not looking to hurt.)

Probably will anyway, but fuck it. I already know his answer.

Let's just get it over with.

“You didn't leave me a valentine earlier, did you?” My gaze snaps to his. “On my desk?”

Mason scoffs. “Why the hell would I do that?”

This time, it stabs instead of twists, higher up, somewhere in my chest. Something sharp instead of dull.

Disappointment? …Relief? I'm not sure.

Just that it stings.

And it's nighttime, so maybe he feels it too, and maybe that's why he unfolds his arms and shifts toward me, boot heel dangling by the bottom drawer while his voice drops to a softness that matches his accent. “What it say?”

“Nothing,” I repeat, even quieter than him. “Just someone fucking with me. It doesn't matter.”

It does

(Shouldn't lie, not to him. Don't need to. Don't want to, don't like it.)

Mason doesn't like it either, but he doesn't push it. Neither do I.

We look away from each other.

The office swelters around us, too stuffy, too small. Too silent and uncomfortable now to stay. I roll forward to save my work, then turn the computer off and Mason's already waiting for me by the door, a dark silhouette framed by distant fluorescent, my coat and bag hanging off his arms. He pulls me in while I put it all on, yanking me by lapels before abandoning them for the sweater on my lower back, the loose hair at my nape. His lips brush against mine in slow movements, soft nibbling, and he's whispering something to me with it all, with the strokes of his fingers and the circle of our chins, but I can't quite hear.

So ask

(He'll answer—and he won't lie.)

I swallow, then I do.

“…What kind of kiss was that?”

“Dunno.” He shrugs beneath my hands, breath tickling my face. “I want you to feel better.”

“Oh.”

A shadow flits behind his eyes.

“…And if he's still bothering you, I'm gonna break his fucking jaw again.”

I chuckle softly. “Pretty sure it wasn't him this time.”

“Good.” Mason nibbles another kiss, then smirks. “Might still do it anyway.”

That gets a laugh from both of us, one that sprawls into a pause, grey eyes locked to mine while our grins fade out and our breath catches on everything unspoken and nameless rushing in to take the space.

Honesty. It's what I try to speak. Trailing up from the emotional ooze, raw and sticky.

I hope he can fucking see it, hear it cry, but I wipe it off and whisper the words into shape anyway, cheeks flaming, just to be sure—

“I'm sorry, I just… I don't wanna talk about it now.”

—and he answers me with a brush of his mouth, with his tongue parting my lips, with the way he teases into me before licking deeper, the way he jerks our hips together then shoves, a knee between my thighs, my back into a wall, a door frame, a sharp corner, a low groan rumbling up his chest directly into mine and I hear it all this time, in his breathy panting at the edge of our kiss, the firmness in his fingers angling my face to his, the solid heat of his cock pressed hard against me, grinding slow while I cling tight and moan, I hear it all, but he sucks my lip in with a sharp inhale, rolls me around his mouth before releasing with a drag of teeth, and he murmurs it aloud anyway, just to be sure—

“I know, sweetheart. It's fine.”

—then he nips down hard, and it's hard not to smile, hard not to laugh, harder still not to nip that asshole right back, so I don't.

Hold back, that is.

Our lips are swollen and sore by the time the station door swings shut behind us.

[justanotheronechicagofan]

Previous Chapter 

10. Elephants 

series summary - Will the Halstead brothers be able to reconnect with their sister after 5 years? chapter summary - the Halstead reunion continues Madeline Halstead (oc), Will Halstead, Jay Halstead, Mouse [mentioned]  TW - pregnancy related death 

series masterlist  | main masterlist

Madeline basked in the warmth, feeling her roots revitalising as their chatter enveloped her, a sense of tribe, a much missed shield. Still, It seeped in corroding the cocoon.

It. An unwanted guest - never leaving, always looming. Ready to creep, sprinkling in doubt, threatening to ruin… well, anything. They won’t like them. A decorated hero turned detective and a doctor. They like boxes, they like lines, they like nor-

“Babe, just tell them already!” she could hear Jess’ laughter. Angelic against Its coils.“You’ve got this! They all love them, what’s different this time?”

But what if they don’t Jess? What if they lea-

"-addie, you okay?"

"Yeah, sorry" The brothers watched Madeline flash a smile. They didn't miss her tenseness, the way she clasped her trembling hands onto her teacup. The siblings were glad at the more smoother than expected reunion but they all knew of the certain elephants they couldn’t ignore. They decided to ride out the silence. 

Finally, she broke the quiet. “I uh- I need to tell you guys something. Something important” That phrase paired with her expression would have warranted teasing from the brothers followed by Madeline's bursts of laughter. Something related to getting seconds of ice cream or wanting a second dog perhaps. But this wasn't 5 years ago. 

Madeline bore into them, searching as if their eyes laid a hint of what their reactions would be. Both brothers tried for a reassuring smile, hoping to pass this sudden test she had put them on. Jay hadn't felt this level of nervousness, if ever - which was saying something considering he sat across from _the worst _of what Chicago had to offer everyday - he felt as if she didn't like what she found, there would be another five years lost. 

When she seemed satisfied, Madeline spoke, “Jay- you’ve met but uh I don’t think I introduced him. Not officially anyway. And Will, you haven’t met yet but,” she took a deep breath and beamed, “I have a son. His name is Nathan, Nate … He’s 3 and I love him, more than anything in the world. I know- sounds corny but it’s true” Her expression was undeniable.

Will was elated. He had heard from Jay that night when the detective had stumbled into his apartment - “Will, she was right there. And there’s this kid, the cutest kid man. He called her mama… Fuck - Will, she had a kid and we weren’t there” - still, he could count the times he had been this happy. The brothers knew that after half a decade apart, it would be a gamble if their little sister would want them to be in her life let alone her family’s. Will hoped that her telling them was a good sign - maybe some sort of invitation that would lead to him becoming an uncle… He realised he had just been sitting there - smiling like an idiot - and rushed to congratulate but was stopped by Madeline's shake of her head.

"Please. J-just let me- I need to tell you this" Madeline breathed out, her eyes dripping with something they couldn't quite place. 

Jay recognised the mint green envelope that she pulled out of her purse. She opened it and laid out a photograph on the table, her movements so careful as if the slightest jolt would would make it evaporate. 

They immediately recognised Madeline - younger and thinner - sat on a sofa, mid laughter with a young woman in the middle. The woman reflecting Madeline (who Jay guessed was in her early 20's at most) had blonde hair, glowing skin and a growing bump to match. She was snuggled against a similarly aged man with dark brown skin who lovingly gazed at her as he held her close.

"Danny took this one, it's one of my favourites," her eyes crinkled at the memory. "That's Ty and Jess - they're family y'know. Really helped me out" 

Jay recognised that look even through her misting eyes - it was one he had seen many times before - the look Nadia and Erin had when they had talked about each other. 

Madeline continued, "Jess and I - we were so close, like sisters. And people used to think we were cause of our eyes," she shared a wistful smile, pausing as her baby pink nails traced the edges of the photograph. 

Jay furrowed his eyebrows at the past tense - were they no longer friends? did this 'Ty' have something to do with it? had this ‘Jess’ just upped and left? 

When she looked up, her eyes were filled with pride, "Nate ... he was a preemie, nearly 2 months early. But healthy considering - 4 lbs, 6oz." 

A smile touched the brothers' eyes as they imagined their little sister, a part of that precious moment. But it faded away at her features starting to cloud. 

"But Jess-," Madeline started as if on rote, her agony seeping through her blankness, "-she had complications and they took her for an emergency c section-” 

Jay recognised that look as she trailed off. It was one he was all too familiar with - the one he couldn’t hide. Hoping to be the anchor Will and now Hailey were, Jay shifted closer to her where she was fiddling with her bracelet.  

Madeline jerked, blinking herself back to the banquette. She took a shaky breath and continued, "Before they took her, I was so scared y’know?” Jay couldn’t take his little sister’s gaze as it crushed his spirit.

Her eyes empty, she shared a hollow laugh, “But she was laughing … told me to chill out, that she'd be back with Nate before I knew it-” She braved a tight smile, hoping to smother the pain. Knowing it never did. It didn’t matter that every syllable had been rehearsed, imprinted in her mind - Madeline always wished she could pause at Jess, beaming before they wheeled her away, before they- 

The brothers held a breath as they realised where this was heading. Will had seen one too many of these cases even working in the ED. The ones where what should be a happy occasion would turn into one of much grief - the ones where more often than not, they couldn’t give answers. 

“They said she lost too much blood- t-that there was nothing they could do.”

“Jess- she never got to hold him” 

They saw the blame laced with confusion. The waves of emotions she had fought to surf, the numbers of tears she had shed, the days she had clung onto to arrive at this exact place with her grief. They saw it all. They knew the power of the nightmare those two sentences held. It was too great. 

Will found himself thanking God in that moment. He didn’t know what to feel about that. Or in fact any of it. Guilty for being thankful that it had been the friend that was struck with the ultimate misfortune? Or was it because he let this happen to her, his little sister in the first place? Maybe it was both. Or was it relief? None of that changes anything. He could hear in the back of his mind. None of that changes the fact that you failed her.

Jay didn’t know what to say. Having done one too many notifications and witnessed the tragedy that came with the job, he knew. That no apology would be enough. Probably better than none though he thought. But everything about one just sounded phoney. Because in the end, it wouldn’t change the fact that he hadn’t been there. That he had failed her. All he could bring himself to say was,

“What’s he like?” 

“Nate? He has Ty’s eyes y’know. So Much life in them. And he has this laugh … you have to hear him, it’s just like Jess’ - it lightens everything. Oh and he’s silly and hilarious, just like his Dad … has the biggest heart … he’s just amazing.” 

You have to meet him, I want you to. She wanted to say. Madeline didn’t know why she felt as if she had to make an appeal of Nate. You’ve done this before - why all this now? she thought. But she knew, that this was different. Because this was Jay and Will. 

As he listened to Madeline beam about her son, Jay couldn’t help but replay the all too short meeting he had at her porch that day. And before he could swallow it back, it slipped out, 

“Can we meet him?” Shit. That was way too soon. 

But his growing doubt came to a halt as soon as Madeline’s features lit up. “Y-Yeah? For real? You want to?” 

“Maddie, heck yeah! Of course we do” The brothers’ reply didn’t do justice for how truly, undeniably happy they were. 

See? Told ya Madeline heard Jess’ smile. She breathed again,_ It_ silenced. Madeline couldn’t put a word to it but it felt great, something like relief and ecstasy rolled into one. But she wasn’t done yet. She still had another brother to ask about … 

"And Mousey?” 

Will gave a cautious glance, knowing how much it hurt his little brother to see his best friend go. 

Jay chuckled at that nickname. He hadn’t heard that one in a while, “He went back about 2 years ago, comms specialist”

“Really?" 

“Mmhh. Do you remember the sergeant we used to tell you about? Well, he put a unit together and he reached out to Mouse” Jay smiled, proud. 

With the same admiration as when she was little, Madeline spoke, “Seriously? That’s awesome! That unit’s lucky they have him. And … he’s okay?” Will noticed the look his younger siblings shared - he wondered if it had something to do with that one and only phone call he ever got from Pat while he was in New York. 

“Mads, He’s good, spoke to him about a month ago - I should probably call him again soon though” Tell him you’re finally home, safe. 

“Yeah? That’s great. Maybe I’ll join you, make it a surprise? Oh! And do you know his address? I want to send him something. Samoas and Cinnamon Crunch right? And jerky. Wait… or was that your thing?”

Jay smiled at her chatter, “No, he likes ‘em too Mads. And yeah, I’ll text you everything - Man, he is gonna freak out when he hears you.” He was surprised that Madeline had remembered those little details because even though the nightmares chased him, being overseas felt like another life ago. He guessed in a way it was. Will couldn’t help but feel a pang as he was reminded yet again of how his sister who was barely in school at the time knew more about Jay’s time with the Rangers than him. 

“Good. I missed him” she shared a sweet smile before it turned into a mischievous grin. “So?”

“Yes Madeline?” Will amused, raising his eyebrows. 

She huffed in return, “C’mon! All I know so far is that Jay’s a detective in a district with a nice sergeant and that you work in the Emergency Room in the same hospital as Connor which who kne-”

“Hang on ‘nice’? Which district did you go to?” Jay joked. There was one thing everyone agreed on at the 21st district - Trudy Platt although one of the best cops in the city, nice was not the first word that came to mind. 

“Yeah, Sergeant Platt” she stated as if it was the most obvious. 

“Pretty sure this is the first and last time I’ll ever hear Platt and nice in the same sentence - the less I have to interact with her the better.” Will dramatically shuddered before laughing with the others. 

“But seriously, stop avoiding my question.” Madeline mocked annoyance. 

Will jokingly put his hands up. “Alright, alright,” He straightened up and announced “Well Maddie, I have a girlfriend. Her name’s Natalie-”

“About damn time too. He’s been pining after her for how long? since you started there?" Jay smirked. 

“Ooooh. So she’s at Gaffney’s too? Is she a doctor? Or a nurse? What’s she like?” 

Will’s eyes crinkled at her curiosity. “Yeah, we work in the ED together - she’s a doctor too. Natalie’s great, I think you’ll like her. Hang on -” he paused, fumbling with his phone. “She can’t wait to meet you by the way.” He added before giving her his screen. 

It was a selfie taken in a park or maybe a garden. Will’s girlfriend ‘Natalie’ was white and had shoulder length brunette hair - there was something kind in her eyes as she laughed. Probably to one of Will’s Really Bad jokes… Madeline amused. She’s pretty … I’m loving that top, maybe I’ll ask her where it’s from. Madeline chuckled at her eldest brother’s grin as he held her close. There was only one word to describe his expression - Smitten. 

When she swiped to the next picture, she was pretty sure her heart stopped. It was probably taken a few seconds after the first one and everything else was the same except from one unmissable detail. Madeline zeroed in on the toddler now in Natalie’s arms. Crap, I waited too late. Did I miss becoming an aunt?! How old is he? Maybe like two? 

Will laughed at her shocked beyond belief expression. “You’re not an aunt just yet Tiny. He’s Natalie’s son but hoping that down the road y’know …” He trailed off, giving a lopsided smile. 

“You are SO in love with her” she teased before turning her attention to … “Jay?”

“Good luck” Will laughed. “Even if there is someone, he’s not sharing - Believe me Maddie, I’ve tried.” 

“Uh-huh. Like I believe that. C'mon there's no one?” She tried again, now putting the puppy eyes on max. 

“Nope.” Jay smiled and she couldn’t tell if he was lying - she never could to be honest. Damn his Ranger training. She was about to let it go but she saw Will raise his eyebrows and take a sip of his mug.

So there is someone she smirked. 

As he looked at the row of townhouses standing impressive against the dusking sky, Jay wondered what this place was to his little sister. He had barely resisted the urge to ask the whole less than 5 minute drive to this street. The not knowing was honestly killing him but he heard his partners voice, “She’ll come home Jay.” He smiled, hugging Madeline. Guess I’ll have to follow Hails on this one too.

Watching his younger siblings hugging, Will smiled. Our family’s back. Maybe he hadn’t let himself get there but it was clear to him now how much he had craved it. He squeezed her tight, feeling that missing part of his soul starting to be found. And as he watched her walk through the gate, he made a promise right there and then - He wasn’t going to let go. Not this time.

Walking up the stone steps, Madeline couldn’t hide her grin at her body full with that warm cozy feeling. That’s got to be one of the best days ever. Replaying bits of the long awaited catch up, she chuckled at Will calling her Tiny - a nickname she almost forgot about and hated when she had turned a teen - she now realised how much she missed it. 

The brothers drove back in silence for a while and when Jay heard Will say,

“She didn’t ask about Dad.”

He nodded and stared ahead. That was an elephant he was unwilling to touch. Not yet anyway. 

                                            💙✨🦋✨💙

A/N - The characters belong to Dick Wolf and are from the One Chicago universe he created. Thank you so much for reading! This chapter was really difficult for me to write and at one point I considered deleting the whole series but I kept at it and about 4 months later here we are ;) This one touched on a really heavy topic but I hope I was able to do it justice and that you enjoyed it. I’m still not sure how I feel about it but I think this is the best I can hope for in this chapter - let me know what you think 💗

[smalltowndetective]

31 for A x detective please 🧡

Hi! Thank you for the request!

31- “I can’t keep kissing strangers and pretending that they’re you”

So, this one does need a little explaining. As much as I love this prompt, my main A detective is just as much as an emotionally repressed dumbass as they are (but she is starting to get slightly better haha) and the other detective that I have been writing A with is way too sweet, and one, would never deal with her feelings this way, and two, would never say anything to intently hurt them. So, of course, I borrowed a detective from @lividlyinlove, who fits this prompt much better.

This is my longest request yet, and I hope you like it! And thank you Liv for letting me use your detective! You’re amazing!

Ao3 Link

Title: Give me Something 

Pairing: Adam and Kira (lividlyinlove’s detective)

Words: 3k

Summary: Kira has tried to move on from whatever her and Adam are supposed to be, just to come to the realization- she can’t.

Tags: @lilyoffandoms

She had never met someone who infuriated her so much.

               But she also had never met someone who drew her in like he did.

               Kira had long given up ever figuring Adam out. She had grown tired of the constant back and forth that he took her on, and she wanted to move on from whatever it was. The fleeting attraction that she had, act like it had never happened. Like she knew he would do.

               And goddammit she had tried. Finally accept that he was never going to thaw his icy shell that had formed over the past 900 years, and she was not going to be one to do so for him, even if she wanted to. Only he could so, and he seemed hardly interested in that, preferring to continue to hide whatever was stirring inside of him for the rest of his immortal life.

               Does that drive you crazy Adam? Having to try and figure out what the hell this is for eternity?

               I know it would if it were me

               She had gone on a few dates, a desperate attempt to move on, keeping them a secret from the rest of the team, and while she had internally rationalized that she was doing so in order to keep Felix or even Nate from asking her questions about them, but it was really about Adam. Kira wondered just how he would react if he knew, and while part of her wanted him to feel the confliction from all and maybe just actually say something, but she was not going to push it. At least not yet.

               It’s just some fun, a nice night out. There is nothing serious about them.

               But she was starting to fear that there never would be. Nothing about them made her want to go back on another, as if it was missing something, but what that was, she had no idea.

               All of them have been nice, and most of them are much more open then Adam is, not like that is particularly hard to be.

               What possibly more could you want?

               This is all came into a head after one particular date with a guy from the big city who was staying in Wayhaven for a couple of days.

               She ran into him on her walk to work, and he was nice. He seemed genuinely happy to talk to her, an easy smile never leaving his face, and was not trying to push her away the whole time, doing anything to avoid even seeing her.

               Like a certain someone I know.

               But one thing that drew him to her immediately were his eyes.

               They were a gorgeous green, but unlike Adam’s cold icy eyes, they were dark, as the color of the darkest evergreen forest, the kind that was still just as vibrant even under snow in the bitterest of winters. They were almost soothing to look into, never becoming fraught with hardness, just openness. Kindness. All the things she was not used to.

               He asked her out on a date, laughing as he did so, and told her it was on a complete whim that he did so, but she graciously accepted, already finding him intriguing, so different then what she was used to, almost a night and day difference.

               They went out together the next night, and everything about it was magical. As if was a scene in a movie, sweet and easy, smiles shared between them that she hoped would never die, drinking in all of the things that he told about himself, but she noticed there was some hesitance when talking about herself, but she was not sure why.

               He’s fine talking about himself, why aren’t you?

               It hit her like a slap across her face when she realized that she never had this trouble with Adam, stubborn and annoying as he could be, even with her own fears of vulnerability. He drew things from her anyway, and she could never understand why. It was not like he seemed to care anyway, nor would he ever.

               You are not going to think about him tonight.

               It’s not about him.

               Though she knew that he noticed her suddenly get quieter, he did not say anything about it, but she did the slightest tinge of confusion in his eyes, and Kira focused on keeping a smile on her face to drown it all out. Tonight, was not to mope about a guy who pushed her away whenever they got close. She was going to enjoy herself, make the most of tonight, with a new guy where maybe there could be something more, even if it was too early to tell just yet.

               The date ended with him dropping her off at her apartment, the sun having long set in the horizon, and she noticed that from the bright lights outside the door, his eyes looked paler than they did earlier, and it only reminded her of the person that she was trying so desperately to forget.

               She almost pushed him away at the sight, being confronted with the sudden rush of guilt, though she was not sure why.

               You’re not his girlfriend, it’s not like you’re cheating on him.

               Then why does it feel like I am?

               But she put that out of her mind, and as the pair continued to gaze at each other, as if they were the only two people in the world, she felt herself move forward, and their lips met in a kiss.

               It was not a long kiss, but there was sweet feeling there all the same, but then she could see Adam’s green eyes in her mind, and just for a second, she allowed herself to imagine if it had been him, and felt her pulse race at the thought, and she pulled him closer to her, forgetting all about who it actually was and allowing herself to imagine.

               And for a few precious seconds, it almost seemed true, her wildest dreams that she had longed pushed away.

               But that illusion could not last forever.

               When Kira opened her eyes back up, and as she stared into her date’s eyes, his eyes still as gentle and open as they had been all night, horror started to fill her, and she could feel her stomach drop in dread.

               What are you doing?

               This isn’t fair to him.

               It’s not his fault he’s not the one you want him to be

               She pulled back from his touch immediately, freaking herself out over everything that was happening, his hands starting to shake.

               “Kira, are you alright?”, she heard him say, worry filling his features, “Did I- “

               “No”, she stated firmly, “You did nothing wrong. This is all my doing”

               He opened his mouth to say something else, but she cut him off, “I’m sorry”

               She entered her apartment after that, guilt filling her stomach, and as soon as she closed the door behind her, she sank to the ground, burying her face in her hands, trying hard not to let the frustrated tears spill down her cheeks.

               Why can’t he leave my head?

               I want to move on, finally accept that he’s never going to admit anything for the rest of his immortal life.

               But I can’t.

               She was tired of all of this, this confusing mess of feelings. Kira wanted it all to end, stop pining after someone who would never give in to what she knew they both wanted deep down. For everything that he did that had just hurt the both in the end, even if he would never admit that.

               Damn it, she had even kissed Bobby. Her absolute scumbag of an ex, because she had been hurt. She knew that she should have not have, but when he leaned in closer to kiss her, she kissed him back, needing anything to get off her mind off eavesdropping on Adam and Nate’s conversation after the carnival. Him admitting that he felt nothing, when her own mind was such a mine field on confused emotions affected her more then she expected it to.

               “But you do have those feelings?”

               "No, I do not."

               Kira had been trying to avoid crying the whole ride home back to her apartment, and when she finally got home, she was far too drained and hurt to even refuse Bobby’s offer to come in, even if about every rational part of her told herself it was a horrible idea for a countless number of reasons.

               It was a definite moment of weakness from her, and one that she knew that he would shove back in her face more likely sooner then later, and as much as she regretted, she was not sure if that she could go back, she would be able to do anything different then what she had done.

               Maybe that spoke to her own maturity, but she could hardly care.

               How else was I supposed to react?

               She could not just keep finding other people to put her heartbreak on, trying to make them into someone they were not, since molding someone into you want them to be, breaking apart what made them special in the first place was the last thing she wanted to do.

               How long is this going on?

               Will months, even years, past, and I’ll still feel like this?

               A painful thought entered her brain, of her meeting someone, it all seeming to be working out, but sometimes, there would be times when all she would see was someone that she was trying so hard to get over.

               They say moving on is the hardest part.

               But will I ever actually ever be able to?

               Or will I be stuck in this never-ending limbo forever?

               There was no way she was going to have another night like this again, as tempting as it might be. It was not fair to the other person, to have someone who was pinning for someone else, and no matter who it was, they deserved better then that. Her date tonight deserved better than that.

               Should I apologize?

               Should I explain the situation?

               What would I even say?

               Kira resigned herself to the fact that there was nothing that she could say that would even make sense at all to anyone except herself, and she knew that it was best to part ways before anything became too out of hand.

               I suppose for him, it’s lucky that it happened tonight

               It’s a lot less of dragging him along with my own hurt feelings, while I try to desperately find some semblance of a person that he is not.

               Shaking the night out of her brain, she got up from off the guard, and she walked through her apartment to go ahead and head to bed, even though she knew she was going to be awake for hours, staring at the ceiling, hoping this would all go away.

               She heard the soft padding of footsteps and the light clicks of a collar, and she barely made out her miniature schnauzer Wolfgang in the dark, his already black coat besides the small white patch on his chest making him almost invisible in the dark. He normally would have been asleep at this time of night, so she was surprised to see him still awake.

               “Hey bud”, she said as he padded the side of her bed as I plea to get up, and she reached over to pick him up and set her on top of the bed with her, “Everything’s kind of a mess right now, isn’t it?”

               Kira ran her hands down his thick coat, scratching behind his ears as he settled into a crook in her bed, the motion soothing her brain slightly, “At least you’re still here. You don’t make things complicated”

               She could swear she almost saw him a slight of a nod of his head on the dark, and she chuckled at the sight of it, and she settled back down on her bed, and even though sleep never called her, her mind still too overactive to even try and figure out anything, it was calming none the less, even if she still had no idea at what to do.

               I feel like if I do fall asleep, I’ll dream, and I don’t think I want to.

               Before she knew it, she could hear her alarm go off on her phone, and she had not gotten a wink of sleep the whole time. She was tired, her eyelids feeling heavy but she would still not allow herself to sleep, and knowing that she would have to start her day regardless, she dragged herself out of bed, realizing she needed to go by the warehouse this morning.

               But there was a pit of dread in her stomach as she realized she was going to have to see Adam today.

               Why are you so worried about this?

               It’s not like he’s not avoiding you right now anyway.

               Sighing, she got up to get ready for today, trying hard to ignore the dark circles that had formed around her eyes.

               I look like an absolute wreck.

               Congrats, me.

               She pulled her clothes on, filling Wolfgang’s dog bowl before leaving, making sure he had everything he needed before she had to leave. She normally would eat breakfast, but she was still not feeling normal after last night, so she ended up leaving anyway.

               This is all such a mess.

               It did not take her long to make her way to the warehouse, and the first thing that Kira noticed was that Adam was standing outside, staring at the horizon as she drove up the warehouse.

               What is he doing out here?

               I know well enough he’s not waiting for me

               “Detective Eveli”, he remarked as she walked up to him.

               She fought hard to suppress the growl in her throat. It was not fair how at the second they were seeming to be getting closer, he would just push her away again, and this forced formality he had insisted on using was starting to grate on her, almost making her skin crawl.

               It was strange to her why she was getting so upset now, but after last night, she was a shell of repressed emotions, and they were threatening to overspill on any person that dared talk to her today.

               Shame (or perhaps not) that had to be the person that all of this was about in the first place.

               “It’s Kira, Adam”, she spat out, her blue eyes holding his eyes in a glare, “You might as well have the decently to use it”

               “I find that rather unnecessary”, he replied, the faint echoes of a scowl filling his face.

               “After everything that has happened, I think it’s quite necessary actually”, she said back, “It’s the least you could do”

               “I fail to see what you mean”, he almost whispered, almost hesitant, turning his head to face away from her, and she could not tell if he was truly ignorant or was feigning it.

               “You’re still going to act like this?”, she demanded, “Like nothing was going on between us?”

               She was not sure why she asked such a question, or what had even compelled her to ask it, but she hardly cared at the moment. After everything that was going through her brain, he had to at least share all of this in her head. She refused to think she was the only one struggling with this.

               “There was nothing”, he growled, but the sudden hesitance in his eyes that he worked hard to bury said otherwise.

               “I can’t believe you, you know that”, she huffed out, crossing her arms almost subconsciously, “We hold hands once and then you act like you can’t be around me anymore”

               Frustration just rose in her voice as he refused to answer, instead noticing that he swallowed hard, “I don’t understand any of this more then you do, you know that? I should have done what you told me to do and save Sanja, but goddammit, Adam, I couldn’t. I couldn’t leave you when you needed me”

               Kira felt the sting of tears at the edge of her eyes, and she fought hard to keep them from streaming down her face, as much as they begged her to, “I’m sick of all of this. I can’t take it anymore. You can’t keep drawing me in and then pushing me back out. It’s not fair”

               She took a shuddering breath, and she finally dared herself to look back at Adam, who was unsurprisingly, looking away from her, his shoulders tighter than she had ever seen them before. He looked more like a statue then he normally did.

               “I’ve tried to move on, you know”, she whispered, and his head snapped back to look at her, and the sudden intense gaze almost made her forget what she wanted to say, “Finally accept you’re never going to let your walls down. But it keeps me coming back to the ugly truth, a truth that I’ve been hiding from myself for so long”

               “I can’t keep kissing strangers and pretending that they’re you”

               “Kira…”, Adam breathlessly whispered, and she could feel her hands clench, and she looked back into his eyes, narrowing her own.

               “You’re going to use my name now, huh?”, she scoffed, “Or are you just coming to go back after this? Speak now, or forever hold your peace”

               When he did not deign to reply, she could feel her shoulders slump, but she tried to hide it, “Of course. See you later I guess”

               She then walked to the door of the warehouse, the tears in her eyes starting to break through as she turned away from Adam and walked inside, wondering what can compelled her to say what she did in the first place.

               But it doesn’t matter now, and it never mattered

               Nothing is ever going to change.

               No matter what you say, no matter how much you beg.

               Nothing is ever going to change.

[babycracker]

Echoes In The Forest - Chapter 11

None of Unit Bravo know what to expect when they're sent overseas for a mission. Surprises await them in the Black Forest, but perhaps Adam stands to find out more about himself than he's ever bargained for.

Rating: Explicit Pairing: Female Detective/Adam, Female Detective/Mason Word Count: ~3k Warnings: None

You can find this chapter on AO3 here. Start from the beginning here.

--

If things had been awkward with Adam before, now they were disastrous and Jordan found herself wishing for the first time since meeting Unit Bravo - including the time she’d been captured by Murphy - that she’d never met them. 

He wasn’t exactly making things pleasant for her since their moment, as she was convinced that it was the moment after the feeding rather than the feeding itself that had made him so distant. He’d kissed her neck, both of them apparently so distracted by what had just happened to realise that it was happening until his lips had made contact with hers, snapping them both out of it.

She has no way of knowing what it was like for him, because he refuses to speak to her, but she knows that she felt more than she was expecting to. She’d been prepared for the physical pain, prepared for the feeling of helplessness that had washed over her before she sternly reminded herself that she trusted that Adam wouldn’t hurt her. She hadn’t been prepared to find herself close to tears over the emotional pain she felt. Not her pain, but it might as well have been for how hard it had hit her.

He had unknowingly left some of his sadness behind in her and it breaks her heart. She doesn’t know what memories are causing the sadness that she feels, but she knows it’s deep and destructive and she can already feel it festering away inside of her. She can only imagine how bad it is for Adam to live with the full brunt of this, day in and day out.

She glances up as Felix comes and sits beside her on the edge of the stump she’d sat on with Adam the other day. He’s grinning at her, but she can see the concern in his eyes as plain as day.

“How you goin’ trooper?”

He slings an arm over her shoulders as he asks, his fingers rubbing at her bicep lightly and she can tell that he’s subtly trying to put her at ease.

“Trooper?”

“Yeah, because you're handling everything like a champ. We all kinda thought you’d be a bit of a basket case after, you know.”

“Who says I’m not?”

He jerks a thumb towards himself and his grin widens, his arm dropping from around her shoulders.

“Me. Haven’t you heard that I’m the most perceptive one here?”

“It’s been mentioned, yes.”

She laughs lightly, going along with his attempts to cheer her up.

“How are you really, though?”

“I’m okay.”

The answer falls from her lips almost as though she were on autopilot, and she’s not sure if it’s the truth. She’s confused about the bizarre connection that seemed to have been forged between her and Adam without even of them expecting it, confused about the brief kiss, angry that he won’t speak to her, and absolutely clueless about what to do with these feelings of sadness that have been forced upon her.

“I’m not okay. I feel… lost.”

She admits after a moment of silence, Felix apparently not believing her first answer anyway and staying quiet as he waits for her to say more. She looks back up at him and he’s watching her carefully, a hint of a smile still on his face but now it’s pretty much overshadowed by the worry creasing his brow.

“Lost?”

“I have all this, stuff now. I don’t know what to do with it.”

“What kind of stuff?”

“Feelings. His feelings.”

The smile fades completely and Felix frowns at her.

“Adam’s feelings?”

“I think? I don’t know. While he was… it was like being in his head. I don’t know where any of it came from but I could feel everything, and some of it’s still in here.”

She presses a hand to her chest, then lets out a heavy sigh and looks down at the ground. She knows she’s not making any sense, but how is she supposed to explain this?

“That’s pretty rare.”

Felix admits after a moment, and she looks up at him in surprise. Not the response she’d been expecting. He shifts to the side to face her properly, casting a quick look around them as though he’s not sure if he should be telling her what he’s about to tell her.

“I expected this from Adam. Doing that, it would’ve been like it tapped him straight into your, what’s the word? Consciousness? It fades off after a while, but it’s rare for a human to experience the same thing at all.”

“Is it because of my blood?”

Felix pulls an uncertain face, moving his hand in a so-so motion in front of him.

“Maybe. Doubt it, though. You don’t get in unless we want you to.”

“What does that mean?”

Suddenly his face changes into an uncomfortable expression, almost guilty, as though realising that he’s said too much.

“You should be talking to Adam about this, sorry.”

He gets to his feet abruptly and gives her an apologetic smile.

“No, wait. Are you saying he let me in on purpose?”

He’s already backing away from her.

“I, um. I can’t really answer this stuff. You really need to talk to him.”

He turns and all but runs off, and she stares after him with a frown on her face. What the fuck? She looks around the camp, seeing Adam as far away from her as he can possibly get without disappearing completely into the woods. Like he has been all afternoon. Letting out a heavy sigh she hauls herself to her feet and trudges over to him, more determined than ever now to find out what the hell is going on with her.

--

Adam can hear her footsteps before he even bothers to turn and see her coming towards him. That, and he’s been hyper focused on her heart beat and her scent since he had her in his arms and it’s starting to get on his nerves.

Why had he agreed to this? And more importantly, what had possessed him to kiss her once it was over? That’s all it is, this feeling of her crawling through his veins that refuses to leave him alone. It’s all because he lingered for too long, held her for too long, kept his mouth on her for too long, then allowed her lips to come into contact with his.

He knows it’s more than that, deep down. More than regret and shock and dwelling over one brief moment. He can still feel her because she’s still right there, under his skin. He pretends that he can only sense her presence moving towards him because of her blood, all of his senses are heightened so it makes sense that he can feel the shift in the air when she stands up all that distance away. He knows it’s not the entire reason, but he’s never been so determined to pretend that he can sense less than he actually can.

“Can we talk?”

He sucks in a deep breath, closing his eyes as he holds it for a moment before exhaling slowly, preparing himself to turn and face her. She’s quieter than usual, her voice sounds uncertain. Almost scared. He spins to face her, aviators covering his eyes as he gives her a once over.

“Of course.”

She looks to the side where Nate is standing not far away then turns back towards him, but she’s not looking at him. She’s looking at the ground in front of him and he clenches his jaw to keep his composure as his heart sinks. This is what they are now. She’s afraid of him. She’s realised that he is the monster that she always insisted she didn’t see him as and she doesn’t want to be alone with him.

“In private?”

Oh. Well, that’s unexpected. He gives a stiff nod and follows her when she turns and heads back towards the tent, hesitating when she drops to her knees and crawls inside but then going in after her a few seconds later.

“Something on your mind?”

He’s grateful his voice isn’t shaking as much as his inner thoughts seem to be as he sits as far away from her as possible.

“You’re on my mind.”

Usually he’s impressed by the way she doesn’t beat around the bush, she’s always straight to the point. Right now though, he could use a little beating. He suppresses a groan at the thought, he can practically hear Mason’s crude response in his head when it enters his mind.

“Oh?”

“Literally. Like you’ve deposited a mini Adam inside of my head and he’s set up shop in there and he's drip feeding me your emotions.”

Oh. 

Well, this is a complication. It was bad enough that even when he thought it was one sided he was having trouble shaking the connection. It’s an entirely different matter if she feels it as well. She’d told him that she felt sadness and something else, but he’d brushed it off as temporary insanity. Brief madness in the form of her rambling about nonsense. If she still remembers and feels those things though…

But he didn’t let her in. He can’t have. He wouldn’t have. Except that it seems very much like he did, the way she’s looking at him like she’s finally really seeing him after all this time. He should be happy about it, really. He'd spent decades and then some wishing for someone to look at him the way Jordan is right now before he gave up, assuming that he would never again find it.

But now that he has, and she is, he doesn’t want it. Because now he remembers that people really seeing him and him letting people in never ends well, and he will not be responsible for something happening to Jordan. He’d already considered letting his guard down with her, and she’d been kidnapped by Murphy. He needs to explain her side effects away effectively enough that she’ll push them away all on her own. She will stop seeing him if she decides that he isn’t worth seeing.

“Care to explain?”

She prods once she decides that he’s been silent for too long, and he sighs in annoyance.

“How am I to explain to you why your mind is doing the things it is doing?”

“I mean, you kind of had a part in it.”

“You were insistent on one of us feeding, Detective. You were insistent on me feeding, and you told me that you’d researched. Surely somewhere in your research you came across material advising you that humans may experience temporary bouts of mental instability for a short period thereafter?”

Instantly he knows that he’s said the wrong thing, and he’s fairly certain he doesn’t need any kind of special connection to her for it to be obvious. She no longer appears afraid or nervous. Now she’s livid, glaring at him with her hands balled into fists by her sides.

“Du Mortain, you did not just call me crazy.”

“Correct, I did not. It is not my intention to start an argument with you."

He sighs out but her glare doesn't fade and he takes a long breath, willing himself the strength to deal with the mood she's apparently in.

"You know what, forget it. I thought we could have a civilised conversation about it but if you’re just gonna dismiss everything I say as being crazy then I'm not doing this with you right now.”

“Detective Mills-”

A noisy sigh cuts him off and her glare deepens, if that were possible.

“I thought we had more of an understanding now.”

“Why would you think that?”

“Because I have more of an understanding of you. I thought it was mutual, but apparently not.”

He stares at her in uncertainty for a moment as she pauses, watching him and waiting for a response. A part of him wants to tell her it is mutual, spilling his guts and telling her that he feels infinitely closer to her already and that he’s only growing more connected to her every minute that she is near to him.

The other part, the rational, hardened and professional part of him knows that nothing good would come of such a confession. Best case it would make her pity him. It would make her realise that the feelings she experienced from him are true, and he would be forever weakened in her eyes. Worst case, she would mistake it as a chance - however slight - for them to become even closer. For them to someday become more than mere teammates. He knows how humans' thought processes work, full of hope however false. Clinging onto whatever outrageous idea that they find appealing and holding on tight. She would imagine that there is some kind of a future for them, and he knows how persistent and relentless she is once she decides that she wants something.

No, telling her anything now would be disastrous for Unit Bravo. The awkwardness that would settle between him and Jordan would tear them apart, not to mention Mason. 

Mason. He had been completely forgetting Mason’s relationship with her in the midst of everything that had happened between them today, and guilt tugs at his gut hard enough to make him feel ill.

He might not approve of their casual relationship, and while it is unlikely that Mason actually feels anything for Jordan, the miniscule possibility that he might has Adam despising the feelings for her that have been slowly creeping up on him. Creeping so slowly that he didn’t even realise they were there until today when he had her in his arms. The thought of betraying one of his closest friends in such a way makes the decision for him and he gives a short nod.

“It would seem not. Whatever connection you feel you have with me will fade by the end of the day and tomorrow you will be grateful that I have not allowed you to act on it.”

He ignores the hurt that flashes in her eyes, looking away from her and staring past her at a random spot on the side of the tent.

“You’re an asshole.”

She mutters before crawling back out of the tent and trudging away, shoulders slumped and head hanging. He did that. He hurt her before he was even in a real position to hurt her properly. Yet he still managed it. And that is why there could never be anything between them. That is why he must shove these new - or perhaps not so new - feelings as far down as he can until they are forgotten like so many others.

--

She doesn't speak to Adam again for the rest of the day, and he can't tell whether he's happy about it or not. He is, he decides. He has to be. Because he doesn't know if he can handle causing the depth of hurt that he'd seen in her eyes earlier today.

He and Nate are standing either side of the entrance to the tent while Jordan sleeps inside. There'd been no playful banter coming from within tonight, there'd been only silence, she hadn't even returned the disconnected "goodnight Detective" that he'd muttered as she'd made her way past him into the tent.

His thoughts are quickly turned away from how she is acting towards him when he hears Felix yell for him. It's the moment of truth. The moment they find out whether feeding from Jordan was worth it.

"Adam, over here!"

He casts a quick glance in Nate's direction before running in Felix's direction, the look on his friend's face matching his own. If this hasn't worked, then all the awkwardness now between him and Jordan, all the pain he'd unknowingly caused her, it was all for nothing and they're out of ideas.

"What is it?"

He asks as he stops beside Felix, who almost excitedly points in the direction of the forest. Adam can tell he's happy to potentially have someone able to help him with this enemy, but his heart sinks when he looks in the direction he's pointing and sees nothing but trees.

He takes a few steps forward, already knowing it's useless but hoping all the same that he's just somehow missed Erlking to the darkness.

"You were right in front of him. He took off."

Felix speaks up forlornly behind him, a heavy sigh accompanying his words. Adam spins to face him, offering a sympathetic frown.

"I am sorry, Felix. I saw nothing."

He feels badly for Felix it’s true, but his heart sinks even further when he imagines the reaction Jordan will have in the morning when she discovers that what they’d done was useless. Felix forces a strained smile back to his face and makes an attempt at a careless shrug.

“Hey on the bright side, we got to him before Jordan got up this time.”

He points out and Adam gives a stiff nod, his fists clenching at his sides as his disappointment gives way to anger and frustration. He turns back around and marches back to camp, coming to stand beside Nate at the tent.

“Did it work?”

Nate asks hesitantly, undoubtedly already knowing the answer just by the look on Adam’s face. He shakes his head, not trusting himself to say the words out loud lest he lose control of his emotions and say something foolish. Thankfully, Nate seems to know better than to say anything more, he just lets out a heavy sigh and walks a few steps away to leave Adam in peace.

--

Felix watches Adam go, the forced smile fading from his face before he turns back to the woods. He glances around quickly before jogging just beyond where the woods begin to grow thicker beyond the clearing they’ve made camp in.

“I know you’re still here.”

He calls, surprising himself with the annoyance he hears in his own voice. Sure enough he hears a twig breaking to his right and he whirls around to see a short and surprisingly frail looking figure walking towards him. He takes a nervous step backwards and a light chuckle sounds from within the black cloak.

“You need not fear me, vampire. I have no use for you.”

“Why couldn’t he see you?”

“The human’s blood made him stronger, yes. But it cannot make him see what is not meant for his eyes.”

Felix huffs out a frustrated sigh and turns away to head back towards camp.

“It will be over soon, Tai.”

Erlking calls after him and Felix stops dead mid-step, looking over his shoulder.

“What did you call me?”

Pale hands reach up to remove the hood from Erlking’s head and he gives him a sympathetic smile.

“That is your name, is it not?”

“Not anymore.”

Erlking hums thoughtfully before slinking backwards into the black of the forest and disappearing again and Felix frowns to himself before trudging back to camp, surprised to see Adam standing just beyond the tree line, looking uncharacteristically confused.

“I heard that. From the tent.”

He says simply, and Felix’s eyes widen.

“You did?”

“He called you Tai, correct?”

Felix nods, a smile returning to his face and resisting the urge to bounce up and down on the balls of his feet in excitement. So maybe the feeding hadn’t worked in the way they had hoped. Maybe Adam still can’t see Erlking. But he can hear him, which is better than anything they had before. Maybe they have a chance at catching this thing after all.

--

Tags: @admdmrtn @mmerengue @adamdumorpain @masonsfangs @oxjenayxo @bravomckenzie @daisydumortain Thanks for reading! Let me know if you’d like to be removed from/added to the tag list!

[wooflesthatwoof]

day 11 | transformation

day 11 from @31daysofwayhaven!!

Pairing(s): None specified, though you’re free to interpret it as any M!UB x gender neutral!Detective ships Warning(s): Blood/injury mention Words: 1125 Summary: Separated from Unit Bravo, the detective finds themself being hunted— in a way— by a vampire. At the very least, they’re thankful that Unit Bravo shows up to deal with the aftermath Notes: posting this one super early because i may end up driving for 5 hours and i’d rather post it early than late—

 The detective whips around frantically, malicious laughter echoing horribly off of the trees around them. They can barely keep on their feet, though leaning on a tree for support doesn’t help much when the lightest touch suddenly feels like sandpaper grating against their palm. 

 Everything at once was suddenly too much, the beams of sunlight filtering through the leaves of the trees threatened to burn permanent marks into their vision as wind whistles past and that horrible laugh continues to bounce off of every rock and branch around them.

 This wasn’t supposed to happen this way. It was supposed to be illegal outside of the Agency, there were piles and piles of paperwork they were still working on filling out, they weren’t supposed to go through this alone.

 They go to call out to someone— they don’t really know who, Unit Bravo isn’t around, the most they would do is attract the attention of some human who shouldn’t know about this stuff anyway— though they immediately cut themself off as even just breathing suddenly feels agonizing enough to kill them.

 They could barely find the strength stand anymore. 

 They manage to make it two steps before they collapse.

 The detective blinks awake slowly, finding themself face down in the dirt. They can hear voices approaching, though— as close as the voices sounded originally— it takes at least five minutes for them to see where the sound was coming from.

 They don’t think they’ve ever been happier to see four vampires walking towards them in a dimly lit forest. 

 “Detective!” Felix looks like he can’t believe they’re real, sprinting to their side immediately. He loops their arm over his shoulders, encouraging them to lean on him as they stand up. 

 The rest of Unit Bravo are standing by them mere seconds after Felix, all staring at them with equally concerned expressions. 

 “What happened to you?” Mason asks, it’s probably supposed to sound uninterested, but the detective has no issue picking up on the worried tone. 

 “I..” They hesitate, completely unsure of how to answer. “I don’t know.” 

 “What?” Nate’s voice draws their attention, glancing up to see him staring at Adam. 

 Adam glances over the detective, his gaze lingering on the dried blood caked around a mark on their neck. 

 Nate follows Adam’s gaze, realization overtaking his expression a second later. “You don’t think…” He trails off, though finishing the sentence isn’t exactly necessary when the others clearly understand exactly what he’s about to say.

 Something akin to grief flashes in Adam’s eyes. He nods to answer Nate’s unspoken question, immediately glancing away. “We’ll take you back to the facility, you can explain what happened after we ensure that you’re alright.” 

 The detective nods slowly. There’s a second of absolute silence, loud enough to deafen them.

 They sit on the bed in the small room— fluorescent lights dimmed at their request, though the darkness didn’t do much to relieve the overwhelming smell of disinfectant and loud beeping of various vital trackers or other medical machinery— with Unit Bravo dotted around the room, all staring at them.

 Nate sits carefully on the edge of the bed, shooting them a quick smile. “Are you feeling alright?” 

 Mason scoffs from the corner, which does little to hide the concern in his eyes.

 The detective shrugs, not entirely sure how to answer. 

 “Can we get you anything?” Adam glances over from where he was standing by the door, “You must be hungry, you’ve been out since yesterday.” 

 They shake their head, quite honestly they forgot how long it had been. 

 Adam frowns at them. 

 “You sure you’re okay though, right?” Felix smiles.

 “I feel fine.” The detective answers honestly, quite frankly their wounds had stopped hurting almost immediately after waking up. 

 Nate almost flinches at their words, quickly waving it off as if he hadn’t moved at all. “That’s very lucky, Detective.” 

 Mason catches their eyes, an unspoken “are you sure?” sitting behind the glimmers of worry in his expression.

 They simply nod in response, an answer to his question and a confirmation to calm Nate’s nerves.

 “That…” They pause for a second, trying to gather their thoughts. “That vampire, they did something to me, didn’t they?” The detective asks, just barely louder than a whisper.

 There’s a beat of silence, Nate glancing towards Adam— who nods— before answering. “Yes, they did.”

 “Any idea what that could be?” Felix tries to joke, though his smile looks a little more forced than usual.

 They don’t answer.

 In their silence, Adam takes a step forward. “We’re all very glad you’re alright, Detective. You’re…” He hesitates, a flash of an emotion they can’t quite place coming across his face for a brief moment. “You’re lucky to be alive, this isn’t a process many survive.”

 There’s a chilling quiet after he says that, broken only by Felix’s quiet chuckle.

 “Well, on the bright side, you won’t ever have to leave us now.” This joke seems more genuine, so much so that the detective takes a second to wonder if he’s joking at all. 

 Given Adam’s reprimanding glare, they think it’s safe to assume he wasn’t. 

 “We should have been there.” Mason says suddenly, glancing at the detective laying in a hospital bed despite their claim to be entirely fine. He opens his mouth to say something else, though whatever it was remains unspoken as he pushes off the counter he had been leaning on and leaves the room without another word. 

 “Don’t worry too much about him,” Nate gently rests a hand on the detective’s shoulder, “we’re all still processing this. I can only imagine how much worse it is for you.” 

 “It doesn’t feel real.” They whisper in response.

 “It won’t.” Adam’s voice is low and gentle as he says, “Not for a long time.”

 Nate gives a sympathetic nod. “But we’ll be here until it does, and for forever after that.”

 “Literally.” Felix chuckles again. 

 Everything goes quiet again, this time interrupted by Adam. “You should get some rest. I’m sure we’ll be in to check on you again in the morning.”

 They don’t think they’ll sleep at all that night, not with how they can hear heartbeats all down the hallway— faint due to distance, but undeniably there— and how they can smell the meds whoever is in the room next to theirs is taking. It’s all so overwhelming, better than it was a few hours ago, but still way too much at once.

 The morning can’t come fast enough. At least with Unit Bravo, it hadn’t felt so alone. 

 But for now, they sit in their room with dimmed fluorescent lights and a constant smell of disinfectant, and they simply count the hours as the clock ticks on the wall.

[not-sewell]

How often do they cuddle/engage in PDA, what are their favorite things to do together, who’s more protective, and who's more likely to convince the other to come back to sleep in the morning for Mona x Nate pls :3

i was expecting you to drop by, ask me at least one difficult question. :3

answering questions from the — ship questions list. ask away!

context: Mona and Nate have not begun to date yet. 

this wasn’t my original plan for them but a discussion with @agentnatesewell kind of led me to modify the route i was taking with the romance. 

Mona’s romance with Bobby started off too fast and got really intense, and she still carries hurt from the relationship. that has made her cautious, and even though she trusts Nate with not breaking her heart, there’s still the hurt that holds her back a bit. well that, and she doesn’t want to mess it up with him.

so obviously, the answers to most of these questions are set in a time where i have finally frustrated myself enough to let the two kiss.

anyway, here goes!

How often do they cuddle/engage in PDA?

well, Mona and Nate would engage in PDA but they may not be very in-your-face about it. they'd have a lot of moments of casual physical intimacy: the way they’d always touch each other by the way of holding hands, having an arm wrapped around the other’s waist, placing a casual peck on the other’s cheek or against the other’s forehead/temple or maybe on the nose, sneaking a quick kiss, the like. so yeah, they'd be pretty "appropriate" when it comes to PDA. but i like to think they'd cuddle a lot when they're alone.

What are their favourite things to do together?

look this is a pair of nerds we're talking about, so reading is definitely up there: maybe they'd read the same book as they cuddle on the couch in the Warehouse library, or they'd read out poems to each other while in bed together, or it's just casually reading their own books in each other's company. 

then there's cooking. Nate is a great cook – Sera even confirmed it iirc – but Mona is pretty decent at it too. she likes to cook whenever the opportunity presents itself; it's almost meditative to her. so, they may make it a point to cook together at least one meal in a week. it may not always be a spread but it's more about the time they'd spend in each other's company.

deeper into their relationship, i feel they'd also enjoy drawing a bath for the two at the end of a particularly stressful day and spending time together there. it may not entail anything sexual as such, but it's more about the unwinding factor that settling in a nice warm bath comes with.

Who’s more protective?

i'm almost tempted to say Nate. Nate, we know, seems to have a saviour complex that causes him to get extremely protective of someone and even throw themself headfirst into a dangerous situation with close to no regard for their personal safety if it meant that they save that person. but Mona does, too. it's something that not only brings them together because they kinda get it but it's also a point of conflict because they're so protective of the other they keep rushing to save them too. so yeah, they're pretty much equally protective of each other and well, it raises a bit of a conundrum.

Who's more likely to convince the other to come back to sleep in the morning?

oh, definitely Nate. he can really be very persuasive when he wants to be so. but it'd also be mostly because Mona's almost always ready to get out of bed and get going about her day. she may gently release herself from Nate's firm, yet gentle grasp as she places a soft kiss on his forehead and wishes him good morning. and Nate absolutely wouldn't mind such a start to his day – until he gets greedy for a bit more time with her in bed. which is when he shoots her a smile she absolutely wouldn't want to miss and asks her to stay a while longer. the time may then be spent staring at each other, just taking in each other's presence in comfortable silence, or exchanging lazy kisses, or just a few more minutes of cuddling until the sharp sound of the detective's final alarm pops the little bubble they'd built for themselves.

[trvelyans-archive]

wanting

for @goblin-deity <3 adam and jamie being Babies !!! bc they are Babies !!! and i hope you enjoy !!!

-

The Detective’s hand was so soft.

How was it so soft?

Adam sighs, pushing his fingers through his hair impatiently as he stares at the dummy in front of him. In the four days that have passed since the carnival – and those four days have felt very long, even for a vampire who has lived 900 years – Jamie’s hand, the one Adam held, is all he can think about. It was so much softer than his own, so much smaller – so much stronger, too, at least in that moment, his fingers clinging onto Adam so tightly that he thought that Jamie would never let go. Like his fingerprints would be etched into Adam’s skin forever.

(Not that Adam would mind that.)

He’s has never thought much about his own hands. They’re big, wide – they can lift things, hold things together, and hit things hard enough to be sufficient in a fight. He doesn’t think much about his hands because he doesn’t need to, but he hopes that Jamie does. He hopes that Jamie wants to. And then he wonders what exactly Jamie would think about those hands doing.

(Sometimes Adam thinks about what Jamie’s hands would do to him. Sometimes he wonders if they’d still be soft when – if, he reminds himself, if – they touched all the other parts of his body.)

With a grunt, he steps forward and lashes out at the dummy with his fist before following it up with a blow to the stomach. Adam doesn’t have time for this – the Detective was distracting enough before, but now that… well, whatever it was that happened at the carnival happened, he’s going to be even harder to ignore and much harder forget. Which is exactly what Adam should be trying to do, but he can’t.

He grits his teeth and hits the dummy again, frowning hard. He thought that he would never have these feelings again – he hasn’t been with anyone since before he was turned, after all, and the 900 years he’s lived alone have passed by with little in the way of romance – but now that they’ve returned, he doesn’t know how to control them. He doesn’t know what to do to make them stop.

Perhaps there’s nothing he can do. Perhaps he can’t. And there’s nothing Adam hates more than that.

He punches the dummy again and sends it wobbling backwards a second before it topples over, hitting the ground of the training room with a hard thud. Adam growls in frustration, and a moment later, the door opens.

Of course it’s Nate. The very last person Adam wants to see right now.

Usually Adam has little qualms with confiding in Nate – not that he has none, of course – but the last thing he wants to talk about with him is the detective. Nate doesn’t understand. He understands other things, experiences they’ve shared in their times as vampires, but he doesn’t understand this. He couldn’t understand this – Adam’s apprehension, his fear, and most of all, his adoration. His complete and utter adoration for Jamie that feels like it’s straight out of a Shakespearian tragedy, a comparison that Jamie would probably like.

(Adam met Shakespeare. He didn’t like him very much.)

“Hey,” Nate says warmly, sliding into the room and shutting the door behind him. “Working hard or hardly working?” After a pause, he adds to himself, “I think that’s how the saying goes…”

Adam snorts. “Take a guess.”

“I would,” Nate replies, smiling. “But I don’t think you’d like my answer.”

With a sigh, Adam turns to Nate, bending down to grab his shirt and pull it over his head. It does little to help him maintain what’s left of his dignity, but it does enough. “What do you want, Nate?”

Nate shrugs and leans against the door. “Nothing,” he says. “I was just wondering if you wanted to talk.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Adam answers, his words short and clipped. “And – there’s certainly nothing I want to talk about. Unless Agent Murphy needs something, in which case –“

“Adam.” Nate nearly rolls his eyes, but stops himself at the last second. “You can’t keep avoiding this forever.”

“Avoiding what?” Adam asks even though he knows the answer very well.

“Your feelings for Jamie,” Nate says, as if it’s the simplest thing in the world. As if it isn’t tearing Adam’s heart to shreds. As if it won’t end the way Adam fears it will – as if it won’t destroy him. Because it will destroy him, one way or another.

Adam’s lip curls in a sneer. “Don’t talk about things you don’t understand,” he answers, almost immediately wincing at the defensiveness in his tone.

“I do understand.” Nate takes a step forward, his voice even and measured. “You’re scared of Jamie getting hurt, right? That you won’t always be there to save him?”

That’s exactly what he’s worried about. It’s all he can think about now when he’s not on patrol, especially after what happened with those Trappers outside of the Warehouse a few weeks ago. Still, he wrinkles his nose. “I don’t want to talk about this, Nate –“

“Adam, you don’t know how it will end.”

“I do!” he says. Nate’s eyes widen, surprised at Adam’s outburst, and Adam pauses for a moment to collect himself. “I do know, Nate. The maa-alused woman told me.”

He frowns. “What did she say?”

With a heavy sigh, Adam runs a hand over his scalp. However many weeks it’s been since their first night at the carnival, Sanja’s words echo in his head. He isn’t sure they’ll ever go away. “That even if we… embrace the light, the darkness to come will swallow us both,” he answers. “The darkness, Nate. And if I make it through that and Jamie doesn’t…”

“We’ll take care of him,” Nate assures him, though a sudden shakiness to his voice betrays that he doesn’t seem to entirely believe it himself. “You and me, Rebecca and the team. We’ll take care of him, Adam. We will keep him safe.”

“I would do anything for him,” Adam confesses under his breath. He closes his eyes, the truth nearly crushing him under the weight of it on his heavy heart. “I would do anything, Nate.”

“And I would do anything for you, old friend.” Nate claps his hand onto Adam’s shoulder, squeezing him gently. “Including telling you that you should talk to the detective, whether you want to hear that or not, and that you should let yourself have feelings for him. You should let yourself be happy, even for a little while. You shouldn’t have to deny yourself of these feelings forever. I’ll be there for you every step of the way.”

Adam sighs. “You shouldn’t have to do that,” he says. He doesn’t like relying on people, and he already relies on the team and the detective far too much for his liking. “And I can’t ask you to.”

“Well then, it’s a good thing you didn’t, and good that I’m going to do it anyway.” He smiles at Adam, his dark brown eyes sparkling. “It will be worth it. Go see him.” Before he leaves the room, he turns around on last time. “And, if you’re looking for an excuse, you could try bringing him a drink.”

“Goodbye, Nate,” Adam says, ushering his friend through the door with a tense smile before shutting it behind him.

His smile falters, however, once Nate’s footsteps fade into silence, and he leans against the door and slides onto the ground, pressing his face into his hands. How he let himself turn into such a fool, he’ll never know, but there’s nothing he can do about it now, all things considered. He’ll just have to wait and see what becomes of this – at least what becomes of this before, well, whatever darkness it is that’s awaiting them in the future…

He stays there for a few moments, collecting himself, before he stands up and heads for his room to get ready.

-

An hour later, Adam is standing at the foot of the detective’s apartment building, a to-go cup clutched so tightly in his fist he’s scared it’s going to crush it. That would be unfortunate – he’s wearing his cleanest white shirt, and he could do without spilling a hot drink all over it, especially considering that would require him to embarrass himself before even entering the detective’s home. After a deep breath, he strides up the front stairs and into the building.

His footsteps echo through the empty hallways, and he moves slowly in the direction of Jamie’s apartment, trying to figure out what he’s going to say. He could greet him normally and pretend there’s an Agency matter he needs to discuss with him, but – well, there isn’t, so a lie like that could cause trouble in the near future. He could say he was on patrol and wanted to stop by, but if he was on patrol then he wouldn’t have had time to go and buy Jamie a drink, so that’s out of the question. Or he could say that…

Or he could say that he just wanted to see him. After the carnival, that probably wouldn’t come as much of a surprise.

Either way, he’s knocking on Jamie’s front door before he can think twice about it.

“Hello?” Jamie calls from somewhere inside the apartment.

Even just hearing his voice makes Adam’s knees weak – it’s so familiar, so soft. Just like his hand, and just like the rest of him, probably. Adam shakes his head and clears his throat. “Hello, Detective, it’s…” He sighs. “It’s, uh, Agent du Mortain. I mean – Adam. It’s me.”

Fool.

“Oh!” There’s an awkward pause on the other side of the door and Adam frowns, unsure of how to move forward. “Uh – come in, the door should be open. I’m just changing.”

“Oh.” He closes his eyes. “It’s… Er, it’s fine, I can wait. Outside.”

He should turn on his heel and leave, really. He’s already embarrassed himself plenty.

“Adam.” He can hear Jamie laughing. “Just come in.”

Jaw clenched, Adam grabs the doorknob and reluctantly heads inside.

He’s been here enough to remember the layout. He doesn’t think he will ever forget it. From a tactical standpoint, he has counterattacks and defenses planned for and from every corner of the room – using pieces of furniture, his teammates, and himself as a means to protect the detective. He’s even spent a few distracted, aimless nights going over new tactics with every supernatural he remembers they should prepare for – that Jamie should prepare for, he always reminds himself – but it’s a long list, and he doesn’t always have time to sit down with it like he would like to.

Maybe he’ll do that instead of training whenever he’s frustrated. The Agency doesn’t have enough funds to keep supplying them with new dummies whenever he destroys them.

He places the to-go cup of earl grey on a coffee table and folds his arms over his chest, glancing around the room. It’s nicely decorated, as far as human homes go, but what catches his eye are the pictures on the bookshelves. He hasn’t examined them much before – he’s never felt the need to – but now, standing in the detective’s apartment and waiting for him to finish changing, it’s a very welcome distraction.

There are a couple of pictures of a younger Jamie, one Adam doesn’t entirely recognize at first – he has different hair, a rounder face. None of his current scars. There are a handful of framed theatre pamphlets and pictures to go along with them, as well, including a few of Jamie wearing a lopsided pair of headphones and an even more lopsided smile, and one in the middle of his bookshelf of him and Tina where her grin is wide but his is even wider, despite the harsh lighting of the hospital.

Adam clenches his fist by his sides. His heartbeat is so loud in his ears that he can’t even hear Jamie walking into the room.

“Ah, that’s one of my favourites,” Jamie says, sidling up beside Adam with his dress shirt half-unbuttoned.

Adam frowns. “Why?” he asks. He would never keep a memento of what he assumes to be a painful memory, let alone keep it on display. (Perhaps he’s just upset because he doesn’t like seeing Jamie hurt.)

Jamie shrugs, continuing to try and button up his shirt with one hand while the other grips his cane. “I don’t know,” he answers. “I just like it.”

He’s told them about the accident a few times before. He talked about it with Adam the day he drove him home after the carnival when he was nearly falling asleep in the passenger seat. It’s part of the reason Adam asked him to text him or call him whenever Jamie drives home from the Warehouse, especially at night – Adam can’t help but worry.  He turns to him with a response but can’t get the words out before his eyes catch on Jamie’s fingers, struggling to finish up with the last few buttons of his shirt.

“Here,” he says in an effort to distract his mind from wandering. “Let me.”

Jamie glances towards him. “Are you sure?” he asks.

Adam stalls for a moment before nodding. “Unless you have an issue with that, in which case–“

“No,” Jamie says hurriedly. “No, I don’t mind at all.”

Adam tries to ignore the other man beaming. If he doesn’t, he’ll do something he might regret.

(Though now, with Jamie in front of him, it’s hard to regret anything. Anything leading up to this point and anything that’s going to come after.)

“So,” Jamie says, clearing his throat as Adam works slowly at his buttons. “Did you need something?”

“Hm?”

“You don’t usually drop by without texting me first,” Jamie continues. “Or, uh, getting Felix to do it.”

“Yes, well…” Adam purses his lips. He hadn’t expected that he would have to explain himself so soon, but tries not to let himself panic. (Which he shouldn’t be doing, because he’s not a man who panics. Adam du Mortain has nothing to panic about.) “I was on patrol, and thought I would stop by to check on you.”

“Mason usually patrols at this time, doesn’t he?”

Damn. That’s true. And Adam would have no reason for taking Mason’s shift – Jamie would know that very well. He pauses for a moment, considering. “Yes,” he says, “but –“

And then he sighs. “I wasn’t on patrol,” he admits. “I just… perhaps I just wanted to see you.”

“Did you now?” Jamie asks.

Adam would find that entirely un-funny if he weren’t so flustered. “Yes,” he responds simply.

“Is there a reason you came to see me?”

Adam ignores the slight hopefulness in his voice and drops his hands from the other man’s shirt, stepping away from him and gesturing towards the cup. “I brought you… a drink,” he says. It sounds completely pathetic right now, but… perhaps that’s fitting. He feels completely pathetic right now, too, because he’s come all this way and Jamie hasn’t even said anything about what happened at the carnival.

Perhaps Adam should bring it up first…

Jamie bends down to grab the cup, lifts it to his nose, and pulls the lid away. “Oh,” he says, smiling as he sniffs it. “It’s my favourite.”

Adam nods, biting back a smile. The last thing he wants is for Jamie to know how pleased he is by that statement. “Nate said –“

Fortunately, he stops himself before he can finish, but unfortunately, it’s enough that one of Jamie’s eyebrows raises and he looks at Adam curiously.

“You were talking about me to Nate?”

Fool.

Adam splutters. “I –“ He glances away, frowning. “Do you enjoy embarrassing me, Detective?”

“Maybe,” Jamie answers. Adam doesn’t know if he’s joking or not. “But seriously - thank you, Adam, for… bringing me this. Is there, uh…” He exhales. “Is there anything else you wanted?”

Adam swallows the lump in his throat. “As I stated previously,” he begins, “I came to check on you. After everything with the maa-alused, I wanted to make sure that…” He trails off. “Now that I know you’re safe, I should… go.”

He doesn’t want to go, of course, because then he has to go back to the Warehouse, and the last thing he wants to do right now is go back to the Warehouse where he’s sure Felix will be waiting to make fun of him for leaving in the first place. Despite himself, he looks to Jamie, who says, “Or you could stay? It seems like you have something on your mind…”

“I don’t,” Adam responds.

“Yes, you do,” Jamie shoots back. Adam curses to himself. “I can tell.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Adam says defensively.

“Adam.”

He sighs, his shoulders tensing. “What happened the other night,” he starts uncertainly. “At the Carnival.”

Jamie crosses his arms over his chest, waiting for Adam to continue.

But he doesn’t want to, because then he’ll get confirmation on the detective’s feelings, and if Jamie feels the same way about Adam that Adam feels for him…

Then what?

Adam hasn’t been in a relationship in a long time. He doesn’t know how to be in a relationship. Human courting is so different nowadays. (Especially because they don’t even call it courting.). And besides, neither of them has the time for that, right? It would never work. It could never work.

And he knows that, so what is he doing?

“Yeah?” Jamie replies.

Adam clears his throat. “I don’t know,” he says, casting his eyes downwards. “I suppose I wanted to know your thoughts on it.”

There’s silence from Jamie. Adam glances up to see him biting his lip.

“What are your thoughts on it?” Jamie asks, his fingers running over the back of Adam’s knuckles, up the length of his thumb.

The touch is so soft. Jamie’s hand is so soft. Adam grits his teeth.

“I have none,” he says. It’s a blatant lie, but he doesn’t care how convincing it is at this point.

“That’s not true,” Jamie retorts.

“What are your thoughts, then?” Adam replies in challenge. “Detective?”

“I think you know my thoughts, Adam.”

He winds his fingers through Adam’s and squeezes his hand. Gently, but enough that Adam can feel it. Feel him from where he stands in front of him, hear his heartbeat from where he stands in front of him, the light from a nearby lamp casting handsome shadows over his face that makes Adam’s heartbeat pick up until matches pace.

It’s too much, too fast.

“I… I have to return to the Warehouse,” he says, pulling away and striding towards the door. “I’m glad you’re doing well, Detective –“

“Adam –“

“I will be in contact,” Adam continues, wringing his hands, “when I - when the Agency needs you.”

“What happened to off-kilter?”

Adam pauses at the door, clenching the doorknob hard in his fist.

He is not a soft man. He’s hardened himself to the world. He’s spent the past 900 years looking forward without giving anyone so much as a second glance, and he doesn’t want to hurt the detective. But Jamie has held Adam’s hand twice now, too, and Adam’s seen the way that Jamie looks at him – Adam is not the only one who feels that utter adoration.

It’s worth it. It’ll be worth it. He knows that.

But not now. Not today.

“I can’t talk about this right now,” Adam says finally. “I’m sorry.”

Jamie sighs behind him. “Okay,” he replies.

“But…” Adam turns around. “Another day.”

Jamie’s face lights up with a smile. “Okay,” he repeats. “Another day.”

Adam leaves without any further ceremony, opening the door and hurrying through it as gracefully as he can with his jaw clenched tight, and only when he’s down the stairs and outside once more does he raise his hand and stare down it, his fingers curling in on themselves.

Well, now he’s just going to be even more distracted. You’re a fool, Adam tells himself, running his thumb over his own palm. A fool.

But a soft smile plays on his lips, and it lingers there the whole drive home.

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Bad Things Happen Bingo: Nightmares (Nate/Danny)

I ended up having a sick day from work today, so I had time to write up the second of these... after this I’m going to need some time before the next! But it’s coming, I promise!

For @badthingshappenbingo​, @my-whumpy-little-heart​ requested: For BTHB, could you do nightmares with Danny and/or Nate? It would be interesting if they were still with Abraham, but you can do whatever you want with the prompt. Thank you :) 

That ended up being… a hell of a prompt. I actually got a second request for nightmares with Ryan, so I’m going to do that one twice! It will get a second sticker. (Chronology: within the first year of captivity, but I’m not sure exactly where in that timeline)

Requested: blood stain Completed: puppy sticker

Tagging: @bleeding-demon-teeth​, @spiffythespook​, @special-spicy-chicken​

CW: Implied/referenced/pretty obviously noncon, noncon touching, noncon kissing, referenced evidence of violence/torture. NSFW implications, although nothing outright, as always. As always, keep in mind that Abraham Denner is a bad, bad man. Well, not man… he’s a bad something.

“Psssst. Wake up.”

Nate’s used to this, so when he feels the fingertips, cold as ice, against his forehead, softly brushing the black hair back and away, he doesn’t even tense up. He floats back to wakefulness slowly, trying to cling on to the dream he’d been having. 

It had been a warm and hazy thing, one of those bizarre dreams that means nothing but neurons firing at random inside the brain, the dreams he liked because they were so much better than all the ones about the living hell he’d never been able to fully escape.

He’d been dreaming about the doorbell ringing. The cabin doesn’t have a doorbell, but it doesn’t really matter, it rang anyway. Bram sent him to answer it, and when he opened the door he discovered fifteen cats in a trench coat and black film noir detective’s hat waiting when it opened. 

Can I help you? He’d asked, baffled not so much by the sight of fifteen cats in a trench coat or even that they had somehow managed to find them this deep into the woods, but mostly by the fact that they were coming by so late at night.

Fifteen pairs of night-reflective eyes had turned to look at him all at once, and he’d heard Danny behind him shout, let them in, Nate, let them in!

He’d stepped back and opened the door wider, gesturing inside in that foggy ghost way you sometimes do things in dreams. As soon as he did, they simply collapsed back down into cats, leaving the trenchcoat and hat in a cartoon puddle on the doorstep and racing through the cabin.

They climbed onto the fireplace, knocked books off the shelves, meowed happily and loudly, scratched up Bram’s couch and pulled threads from the woven-rag rug.

A brightly-colored calico, vibrant with red and brown and black and white, settled herself into Danny’s lap where he sat on the floor looking around at the chaos with delight. Do you think the cats could save us? Danny asked him, smiling, as the whip-skinny calico had put her paws on his shoulder, licked a rough tongue up the side of Danny’s face, batted at his hair. Do the cats know the way out?

Nate had jumped when he realized one of them had climbed straight up him and settled around his shoulders without him realizing, a black cat with cold blue eyes that swiped gently at his hair. Baby, wake up, you have to see this, the black cat purred, rough in his ear, in Bram’s sleep-slurred, loving voice.

“Nate. Wake up, sweetheart.” The voice is low, and soft, a breath of cold air against his ear, and he shivers a little, pleasantly, at the feeling. 

“Mmmmn, is Ashley up already?” He asks, and he doesn’t know why - she’s dead, she’s been dead for a year now at least, why is he asking that? But for a half-second, with Bram’s voice in his ear, he forgets.

There’s a hesitation, and then Bram says softly, sadly, “Not yet. That takes time. But look, Nate, look at him.”

He opens his eyes... and looks right into Danny’s face, baffled for a second before he remembers that Danny had slept in the bed last night.

Danny had cooked Bram’s favorite dinner without being asked, had remembered all the rules all day without even one slipup, had made their drinks with dinner perfectly and faster than ever before, served their food and waited to be given permission to get his own, waited for Bram to tell him if he could use fork and spoon to eat with without having to be reminded.

He’d even dropped to the floor to eat sitting right next to Bram’s chair like he wanted him to, with Bram’s hand petting through his hair, Danny’s eyes on the ground and the red flush of humiliation in his face. 

He’s been so good today, baby, and the King always says you have to include positive reinforcement, too. Do you not think he’s earned some positive reinforcement? 

Th-that’s not what I m-m-meant-

No, that’s definitely what you’re saying, that you think he shouldn’t be given good things when he’s good, Nate. That seems mean, don’t you think? Cruel to make me hurt him when he’s been so good.

I’m n-not telling y-y-you to hurt him, I’m s-s-saying leave him al, alone!

No, our pups has two choices tonight: get his reward or I’ll open all the wounds from last time up on his back again. I’ll let you choose.

Bram, pl-please-

I said choose, baby.

… the r-reward.

While Nate doesn’t particularly want to think about last night ever the fuck again (and neither, he is certain, does Danny), he couldn’t quite bring himself to regret seeing Danny actually warm for once, this morning.

He’s curled up in the center of the bed under the layers of heavy blankets, rather than the thin and threadbare things he’s normally allowed on his little mat in the living room. If it hadn’t been for the wrists bound together above his head, nearly palm-to-palm, and tied hard to the headboard, he might have even looked comfortable.

Bram had been on the other side of Danny when they fell asleep but that side of the bed was empty, now. Instead, Bram was behind him - the cold at his back where he leaned over from where he stood, fingers curled just slightly to shift back his hair, gentle and loving. Nate felt himself split like he always did into two people - the version of him that wanted to snarl and push the hand away, and the version of him that wanted to melt into the touch.

He settled for somewhere in the middle and just whispered, without really moving at all, “Is it m-morning already, Bram?”

Sometimes he stammers less when he first wakes up, when his voice is still mostly the voice from his dreams, where he never stammers at all. His dreams never seemed to catch up with whatever had happened to the connection between his brain and his mouth.

“No, baby, it’s like four.. But look at Red.” Bram’s fingers slide down, slide along his cheekbone to his jaw, take hold of his chin, tilting it up a little bit. Nate can feel the bed shift, as Bram leans his weight on it by one knee, the pressure of it along his back. 

“B-Bram, I-”

“I said look. Our little puppy is dreaming.”

Nate blinks the last of the sleep from his eyes, the final hints of the cabin full of cats, the calico climbing up on Danny’s shoulder to look at him with the same bright hopefulness Danny wore, sometimes, before the darkness took it over again. 

Bram settles down behind him, his cold breath on the back of Nate’s neck as the two of them look over at Danny.

Nate hadn’t really noticed it at first - he’d still been too lost in trying to find his way to consciousness, honestly - but Danny’s eyebrows are furrowed together beneath the healing bruise on the side of his forehead, and his already-rubbed-raw wrists jerk a little at the ropes, fingers twitching like he’s trying to grab at something. Nate watches his mouth moving, breaths of air that weren’t quite sentences escaping in occasional snatches of words Nate can almost, almost hear if he listens hard enough, the healing cut on his lip.

The red marks around his neck from the last round of barbed-wire are nearly faded completely, but underneath the thin sleep shirt Nate knows there are more bruises, more cuts. Danny’s back is still bandaged from the drinks incident, and Nate couldn’t forget the way he’d screamed when Bram punished him for that moment of rebellion, couldn’t ever forget the look on his face.

The top part of the bandage, the adhesive holding the giant swaths of gauze over it, is sticking up out of the neck of his shirt, nearly up to his hairline. 

Danny whimpers, softly, in his sleep, and Nate winces at the sound. It’s too much like the dog Bram keeps insisting he is now.

“I think he’s having a nightmare,” Bram breathes with unabashed delight into Nate’s ear, rubbing at his shoulder with one hand in excitement. “Like a midnight snack to feel all that coming off of him. I wish you were already like us, so you could feel this, this is so… does anyone still say ‘jacked’? Or is that out of style now?”

“H-how would I know?” Nate mutters. “I didn’t know what people said before all of this.”

“I guess you wouldn’t. Still... I wish I could read thoughts, I’d love to know what he’s seeing in that head of his…”

“I al-always kind of th-th-thought you c-could read minds,” Nate whispers back, keeping himself still and relaxed under Bram’s touch, refusing to react one way or the other to the hand that runs back down his arm and curves over one hip through the blankets, rests there, like a block of ice that won’t melt holding his body down. 

Danny’s little breaths are faster, now, his eyes moving rapidly under his closed eyelids, Nate struck again by the odd copper-bright eyelashes he’d never really seen on anyone else before, how pretty they are. He jerks a little harder at the ropes, whispers something, and Nate feels Bram leaning even closer from behind him, sees the sweep of white-blonde hair from the corner of his eyes.

If he doesn’t look, doesn’t see the cold ice-blue, he won’t fall in, and he can hold onto the hatred that he feels, hold on to wishing he was somewhere else. Hold on to his sense that someday, someway, he is going to get himself and Danny out of this.

I got myself out once, I can do it again.

Can’t I?

“No, baby, I can’t get into anyone’s head unless I do it the old-fashioned way, like I got into yours.” Bram’s fingers dance up the side of Nate’s head, over his ear, ‘walking’ over his hair, and Nate grinds his teeth together and keeps his eyes firmly fixed forward.

“St-... stop,” Danny whispers in his sleep. Bram chuckles behind Nate and he’s trapped - he’s stuck between Bram’s happiness and Danny’s unconscious misery and he can’t get out of this moment. All he can do is lay still, wait for Bram to move, wait to see if Danny wakes himself up. “D-don’t, st… b’good… be…”

“Oh, he’s dreaming about me, fuck yes.” Nate can hear the smile in Bram’s voice as he presses an excited kiss to the back of Nate’s neck, then pushes himself back up to get a better look. “I love when they dream about me.”

“Wh-who’s ‘they’?” Nate blinks, twisting back to look up at him without thinking. Bram looks back down and their eyes meet. Nate smiles, a little, at the man he loves and hates and cannot resist, and Bram smiles back.

“All of them,” Bram answers, as though that says all he needs to say. “All my boys.” 

How many boys are there inside your head? Nate wants to ask. How many people like us have you destroyed? Also, do you actually understand that I am a grown man? 

Somewhere in him, there is still a man who can think, I wish someone would bury a knife if your goddamn heart and I wish it could be me.

Stronger than that man, though, is the one who thinks, I love you.

“Stop… st, stop, ‘braham, I c’n, I’ll be good, want to be good, I… pl-... I, I don’t... stop… stop!” Danny’s whole body shudders all at once and his eyes fly open, wide open without quite being fully awake, unseeing. He pulls hard at the ropes and hisses in pain as they only tighten even more, dig in deeper. Nate sees the first smear of red just below one of his palms. “Oh god, I just, I… where-...” 

“What did I do to you, Red?” Bram asks, in a low voice nearly thick with an awful happiness. He looks like wolves covered in blood on nature shows, licking their chops after eating a kill. 

Danny looks slowly up where Bram looms over he and Nate, Danny’s warm blue eyes dark with Bram’s shadow as he tries to shrink back, stopped by the ropes, kept right where he is in the center of the bed. “I… I don’t… Abraham? N-Nate, why am I…”

“Don’t you remember yesterday, little Red? You were so good for me and we gave you your reward?”

Danny swallows, hard, and then slowly nods, his fingers wrapping around the ropes like he can find some comfort in holding onto them. “Y-Yeah. Yeah, I remember… I remember now.” His face turns bright red, nearly fading the scars out completely, all the way red to the end of his nose with embarrassment, with shame. “Ah, um… thank you for my re-reward-” His voice cracks a little on the word, barely forcing it out, and Nate has to keep his eyes open until they burn to avoid seeing behind his eyelids what Danny’s reward had been. “-and letting me sleep, Abraham… I’m s-sorry, I woke up, I woke you up… I’m sorry, can I go back to my mat now?”

“Oh, absolutely not,” Bram laughs, sliding back and off the bed, giving Nate a few precious seconds of space and the ability to breathe and warm air at his back, before he gets back in on the other side, sitting on the bed with his legs crossed, looking avidly down at Danny like a child on the library floor at storytime. “Oh, no no no no. Nate, baby, go make us some coffee.”

Danny gives Nate a pleading please don’t leave me here look, then turns back to Bram, searching his face for any sign of gentleness, finding none - just that terrible good cheer. “Coffee’s my j-job, if you just, if you just untie me, I can go make, um, make the coffee, Bram-”

“No, puppy. Nate will make the coffee today. Do what you’re told, baby, I gave you an order.”

“Y-Yes, Bram,” Nate says, standing up himself, guilty as he all but flees the room with Danny’s eyes burning into his back… but not guilty enough to go back in before the coffee’s good and ready.

Yesterday he found something in the back of the closet and had an idea, but he doesn’t have enough courage yet to use it, and he doesn’t know how much time there is left before Bram is done with Danny, before he wants to find someone new to break. 

He can’t kill him. I can’t lose him, I can’t lose Danny, I can’t. 

Do you want to save him, Nate, or do you just want to have him instead?

Does it matter which, if I would never ever hurt him?

As he steps into the living room and heads for the kitchen, he hears Bram’s voice behind him, the slippery-smooth snake charmer voice, soft and vaguely hypnotic.

“I want you to tell me all about that dream you were just having… because I want to make sure we recreate it in the most excruciatingly accurate detail. If you don’t tell me, then I’ll just have to come up with something fun to do to you all on my own, hm?”

Nate hears the rattle of Danny’s ankle chain as he tries to move again. “I don’t, um, I don’t want to…”

“Since when have I given a single flying fuck about what you wanted, puppy? I told you to tell me about your dream. If you won’t - or if you try to lie, you know I can always tell when you’re lying - we’ll just have to see if maybe some time down in the dark will help convince you.”

“N-no! No, I don’t need, um, I don’t need the cellar. I swear I don’t. I’ll be good, I’ll try harder, Abraham, I want to be good for you!”

“Then prove it.”

“Just, um. Give me a sec. Will you - will you please untie my hands, then I can, I can tell you…”

There’s a silence as Nate pulls down the coffee beans and the little electric grinder Danny asked Bram to pick up on his last supply run (whole bean coffee is, um, it’s better, Abraham, this would let me make better coffee for, for you - can I please make better coffee for you, Abraham? please?) , the pressure like the air just before a storm.

“... you’ve got a deal, little Red.” There’s a pause, far longer than the time needed simply to untie the knots, long enough that Nate feels bile rising in his throat at the thought of what might be going on behind him. Finally, he hears Bram laughing, the high-pitched hyena bark he only makes when he’s truly, genuinely happy. “Oh, you’re good at that now, huh? Who says I’m not nice to you when I want to be, hm? Now what do we say when someone does us a favor?”

Danny’s voice, when he speaks, is low and soft, nervous and eager-to-please. “Th-thank you for untying me, Abraham. I can… I can tell you the dream now.”

“Don’t try to lie, puppy, you’re the worst fucking liar I’ve ever met.”

“I… I know, Abraham. I won’t. I was just-... I did something bad, so you said, you said I had to learn my lesson...”

The defeat and fear, the submission in Danny’s voice is too much. He can’t take it. He can’t, or he’s going to start screaming and never fucking stop. This is his fault, for meeting Danny, for talking to him when he caught the younger man looking at him, for agreeing to see a movie together. This is his fault for thinking he’d gotten away, that maybe Bram would let him be, think he was too much trouble to go after.

He’d made a mistake, leaving Bram, and Danny is suffering for it.

And he’s about to suffer more.

“What lesson am I going to teach you today, Red? What did you forget in your pretty little head while you slept?”

“I-I… um, I, I-” Danny’s voice cuts off, and there’s another pause that lasts too long, that Nate knows too well from long experience. His skin crawls, but it’s his fault, isn’t it, that Danny knows the rules? “-forgot the rule not to pull away from you…”

Bram begins to laugh again. “Oh, that’s my favorite rule… What do we say when we break a rule, Red?”

“You say you’re sorry and then you get hurt so you don’t break the rule again,” Danny says all at once, memorized, pushing the words out so quickly they’re barely even separated sounds. “I, I know, Abraham, but it was just a dream-”

“Breaking rules still counts in dreams, little one. Come here and let’s talk about how you can fix that mistake you made in your sleep so you won’t even dream about breaking my rules again…”

 Nate jams the coffee grinder on and tells himself he’s not complicit if he can’t hear a thing over the sound.

[regrettablemeasure]

otp tag.

tagged by @solasan​, thank u!!!!!   tagging: @ritualism​ and @editoress​ i think all my other Wayhaven ppl have been @’d already

PENNY AND FELIX EDITION

DISAGREEMENTS.

who is more likely to raise their voice?

i neither! penny if i had to choose, but shes usually p good at keeping cool. and felix doesn’t seem like a shouty person anyways.

who threatens to leave but never actually does?

N/A

who actually keeps their word and leaves?

N/A

who trashes the house?

N/A

do either of them get physical?

N/A

how often do they argue/disagree?

i think their first disagreement is in book 2 when Felix got hurt during Sanja’s rescue. Penny feels super guilty about it and is worried Felix is brushing it off when he has a right to be upset. She’s kinda haunted by that whole situation and the choice she had to make. Other than that, they definitely never really argue. At most in the beginning Penny was just kind of oblivious/flippant because she’s socially awkward lol

who is the first to apologize?

both lmao

SEX.

who is on top? who is on bottom?

Felix is a little top  you cant convince me otherwise

any kinks?

not really

who has the strangest desires?

i think they’re mostly just cute in bed without anythnig crazy going on

who’s dominant in bed?

  FELIX!! in the cute ‘i got this’ kind of way. Penny’s shy so definitely not her.

is head ever in the equation?

duh

if so, who is better at performing it?

felix has the charisma but i think penny has the technique

ever had sex in public?

 they did almost fuck in nate’s library 

who moans the most?

Penny!  Felix thinks its cute

who leaves the most marks?

FELIX LOVES HICKIES. hes sad that they don’t last super long on him, but she tries anyway.

who is the more experienced of the two?

I think they’re pretty even actually

do they ‘fuck’ or ‘make love’?

latter

how long do they usually last?

im sure it varies

rough or soft?

soft!!

is protection used?

YES. penny is ON that shit. Though she wouldn’t be against having kids one day.

does it ever get boring?

nah they’re too cute and in gross cuddly love. Does felix look like he’d EVER get bored of the detective

where is the strangest place they’d have sex?

it didnt  happen but again, nates library. Penny was secretly kinda into it 

FAMILY.

do they plan on having children / do they have children?

 I don’t think either are seriously considering it for a while but Penny is a good 50/50 on it!

if so, how many children do they want/have?

just one, maybe two.

AFFECTION.

who likes to cuddle?

Felix! Penny’s a little more standoffish in general with physical affection, but she does love cuddling Felix. If he wants to cuddle she’s p much always down for it.

who gets naughty in the most inappropriate of places?

Felix. Have you heard what that boy says

who struggles to keep their hands to themself?

Felix! Though only in private. He know’s Penny’s shy and its cute to do it when shes working or something. He likes playfully distracting her.

how long can they cuddle until one becomes uncomfortable?

Probably for a good while, though Penny has a tendency to get antsy. Usually it just means her getting up and him happily following after her though

what is their favourite non-sexual activity?

video games! She showed him Animal Crossing and it was over

where is their favourite place to cuddle?

on the couch!

SLEEPING.

who snores?

Penny...

if both do, who snores the loudest?

Not loudly , but again penny.

do they share a bed or sleep separately?

they share a bed!

if they sleep together, do they cozy up together or lay far apart?

depends!

what do they wear to bed?

Penny wears pj shorts and a cotton shirt, pretty simple. Felix is probs similar

are either of them insomniacs?

Penny DEFINITELY is. Thankfully Felix doesn’t sleep a lot so she’s rarely disturbing him!

can sleeping pills be found by the bedside?

YEP. Especially after book 1, she started having nightmares.

do they wrap their limbs around each other or just lay side by side?

Felix is a koala.

who wakes up with bed hair?

Penny. Felix somehow always looks fucking perfect and she’d be jealous if she didn’t think it was so charming.

who wakes up first?

Penny. Even if Felix is just lazing about, she’s one of those responsible people or something.

who prepares breakfast in bed for the other?

Felix tried. keyword being tried. 

what is their favourite sleeping position?

Penny sleeps on her side and Felix clambers around either with one leg over her or spooning her usually.

do they set an alarm each night?

Penny does!

who has nightmares?

Both :(. Hard to tell with Felix how often for him

can a television be found in their bedroom?

Penny doesn’t have a TV

who has ridiculous dreams?

Felix for sure. Sometimes involving stuff pertaining to the Echo World and Penny is like ??? and he doesn’t know how to explain it.

who sprawls out and takes up most of the bed?

Felix

who makes the bed?

Felix, because he insists. Penny goes back and straightens it out

what time is bed time?

 bed by 1

any routines/rituals before bed?

felix insists on brushing their teeth together bc he thinks its cute (penny does too). its how she first actually got a glimpse of his fangs

who’s the grumpiest when they wake up?

neither! though felix DOES complain.

WORK.

who is the busiest?

penny. felix is  busy keeping himself from dying of boredom

who rakes in the highest income?

n/a

are any of them unemployed?

n/a

who takes the most sick days?

Penny, though very rarely. She usually saves them for days where she wants to work from home because the office got too overwhelming.

what are their jobs?

Vampire Agent vs Police Detective

who sucks up to their boss?

 Felix tries to charm Rebecca. Rebecca just sighs.

who is more likely to turn up late to work?

Felix. Got distracted

who stresses the most?

PENNY. though she usually takes things in stride, she’s a little up tight.

do they enjoy or despise their careers/occupations?

Penny is fine with being a detective and doubly fine with being an agent.

are they financially stable?

yeah!

HOME.

who does the washing?

Penny. We know what Felix’s stance is on laundry considering he hides his socks in Mason’s hamper.

who takes out the trash?

Felix , and he acts like a hero

who does the ironing?

Penny! She wears nice clothes that definitely would require ironing. 

who does the cooking?

Penny is a serviceable cook, though she tends to cook the same things. And sometimes still eats like a (healthier) college student because she doesn’t have the energy. Felix LOVES using it as an excuse to order food.

who is more likely to burn the house down just trying?

Felix.

who is messier?

Felix. More just disorganized

who leaves their dirty clothes on the floor?

Felix. Again, boy clearly hates laundry

who loses the car keys when it comes time to go somewhere?

Neither. Unless Felix yoinked the keys - then they could be anywhere.

who answers the telephone?

FELIX. First ring, always. 

who mows the lawn?

city slickers for life so neither

who does the vacuuming?

both. felix likes doing it and danciing

who does the groceries?

Penny because felix will bring back a bunch of things they didnt need

who takes the longest to shower?

Penny. She uses so much water

who spends the most time in the bathroom?

neither!

MISCELLANEOUS.

is money a problem?

nah theyre secret agents

how many cars do they own?

just penny’s little clunker

what’s their song?

waterfalls coming out your mouth // violet hour (especially this one) // sugar

do they live in the city or in the country?

small town

do they own their home or do they rent?

penny’s renting but wouldn’t be against owning a little flat somewhere

do they enjoy their surroundings?

wayhaven is home and comfortable for penny! she was actually falling out of love for it before she got promoted, now she feels protective over it and the supernaturals shes now aware live there.

what do they do when they’re away from each other?

felix goes insane waiting until they can meet up again. penny is often thinking abt him but is eager to get work done so she can do it even sooner

where did they first meet?

abandoned warehouse in book one - though the first meeting SHE remembers is him kissing her on the hand... romance...

who spends the most money when out shopping?

i feel they both are pretty similar! Theyre Fashionable, though Pennys really good at budgeting.

who’s more likely to flash their assets?

listen it doesnt happen in canon but if you do the combat training route with felix he fucking puts your hands up his shirt

any mental issues?

penny has anxiety and has been diagnosed as autistic since she was, like, 12. felix clearly has some shit he’s not letting himself fully mourn but OKAY BUDDY

who finds it amusing when the other trips over? 

penny laughs when felix trips just because he’s like a beautiful ragdoll and always ‘saves’ himself in really funny ways. felix is such a prince charming i think he’d see her tripping more as an excuse to be dashing and handsome at her and save her from face planting than laugh. 

who’s terrified of bugs?

penny definitely isn’t. could see felix losing his shit over a spider.

who kills the spiders around the house?

PENNY. doesn’t kill them though.

do they have any fears for their future?

Penny’s worried that loved ones might get put into danger due to ... everything. Verda found out about vampires and wasn’t hyped, so she’s worried about their friendship and his saftey most of all. She’s also worried about making ‘tough’ choices like the one at the end of book 2. It’s not a pleasant dilemma.

their favourite place?

Penny’s apartment!

who’s more likely to surprise the other with a fancy dinner?

felix FOR SURE

who pays the bills?

both, but penny set it all up on autopay bc felix would forget.

who’s the tallest?

Felix! He’s like what, 5′7-5′9? penny’s 5′3.

who’s more likely to just randomly hop into the shower with the other?

Both! Penny’s shy when doing it but she loves felix’s reaction because he’s always super excited.

who wanders around in their underwear?

neither

who sings the loudest when singing along to the radio?

felix. duh

what do they tease each other about?

everything! penny teases felix over how energetic and goofy and ~suave~ he is. He teases penny over being bashful - but she actually teases him more! He teases her over ROMANTIC stuff.

who is more likely to cringe at the other’s fashion sense at times?

Penny. The waistcoat, Felix. Why. No

who crushed first?

FELIX DIDDDDDDD. Penny got flustered but is very :/ at relationships bc she struggles socially and the only serious relationship she had prior was fucking BOBBY. So she straight up doesn’t trust that felix is being genuine at first. Also she’s a lil bit oblivious.

any alcohol or substance related problems?

nope!

who is more likely to stumble home, drunk, at 3am?

neither

who swears the most?

probably felix, though I don’t think he swears a lot either?

[tenacious-scripturient]

a run-down of / my thoughts on the novel ‘trade secrets’

so! i’ve recently finished this beautifully written novel by @bettsican​, and am anxiously anticipating for the second book in the trilogy! (seriously, give it a read. it’s a great lgbtq+ thriller and mystery story, i promise you’ll love it!! you can find trade secrets in many places, including amazon, where it’s only $6)

as i was reading it, i noted down all the thoughts i had. it was fun, interesting, and kept me on the edge of my seat!

oh, and spoiler warning, of course.

Chapter One

okay. this is interesting. why are they in paris? or rather, why are they NOT in paris?

2080. damn.

who is cooper hall and why is he important i want to knowwwwwwww

Chapter Two

HOLY FUCK

CHAPTER ONE WAS A PROLOGUE

OKAY IF I DIDNT NEED TO BEFORE I HAVE TO READ IT NOW

-ahem- anyway

nate literally everything you think of has to relate to smoking, doesnt it?

clyde you absolutely bitch raccoon

im sort of piecing together what’s happening here? either way this is a SUPER interesting concept.

i love the idea of every word being important

nate look at you being a nice guy. testing the CAPS before giving them to ur clients

or maybe it’s just good business

but whatever

okay, so credits are money in this world. but how do people get them? obviously there’s what nate’s doing but what’s the legal way to get them? ill probably find out soon

if it wasnt explicitly said by betty that nate ends up with another guy (i forget his name. cooper?) i would have thought audry was the romantic interest

audry you loving caring hypocrite

i feel like she’s gonna be one of my favourite characters

who is this young man that dares disturb nate’s slumber

cooper? cooper.

Chapter Three

nate get up

u turtle get up and hurry down the stairs

or—okay you can fall into that drywall that works too

ohhhhh so nate is a detective. that’s interesting

i also love this idea of keeping secrets (haha trade secrets)

dude are you sure that your embarrassing entrance wasn’t the ONLY reason you blushed? ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

HEIGHT DIFFERENCE HEIGHT DIFFERENCE HEIGHT DIFFERENCE HEIGHT DIFFERENCE HEIGHT DIFFERENCE HEIGHT DIFFERENCE HEIGHT DIFFERENCE HEIG—

nate ur spending an awful lot of time looking at his features you funky little bisexual

oh damn ur smarter than u seem, just watching him take a single breath and you’re already making connections. i guess that’s why he’s a detective

im gonna assume this is cooper, even tho it never explicitly says so

i feel like we aren’t gonna get his name for a while, bc clients and whatnot and not getting attached

Chapter Four

NATE WEARS GLASSES???????

that’s kind of cute

im lowkey gay rn

anyway

NATE CALLED HIM SWEET-FACED AND PRETTY-FACED O K A Y

oh he has curly brown hair

and oh the glasses aren’t real glasses. oh. the use is actually pretty cool!

so from what im gathering civilians are people who don’t live in sanctuaries, and lemnis are people who do?

cooper sweetie why do u need so much money what have u done

nate’s pretty clever

HAH I WAS RIGHT WE AREN’T GONNA GET HIS NAME FOR A WHILE

well that’s that i guess

Chapter Five

he’s so timid awh

hehe he’s on nate’s bed

sorry

goddammit man calm down or else you’re gonna get everyone in a 5-mile radius around you arrested

wait…. zero-credit balance?? didn’t he just have a few hundred thousand credits???

OH THIS IS A FAKE PROFILE HE MADE

so cooper isn’t his real name either

oh

Chapter Six

oh we’re back to 2080

oh they’re back in the apartment??

it was obvious before but at this point it’s confirmed that they’re going to be doing some travelling together or something

Chapter Seven

this is getting really interesting i dont wanna stop reading and type everything that comes to mind

these are gonna be shorter now hehe

“i’d been a petri dish of mixed emotions and wild chemical changes for half the day” I LOVE THAT METAPHOR LMFAO

what happened with nate’s mom

i want to know

my prediction: she wanted him to either change up or completely remove the chip bc she did something horrible? or maybe she just wanted to leave idk im bad at predictions

either way it said she was crazy

o h

that’s why he’s terrified of cutting the chip

poor nate

Chapter Eight

oh this is strangely intimate

very intimate

i feel that, because cooper has such high pain tolerance (or doesn’t show pain), he has some backstory for it

Chapter Nine

lmao nate just went off didnt he

THEIR FLIRTING IS CUTE FHJKJDLSKAJDKLSJAK

also is being lgbtq+ widely accepted as the norm in this setting? bc nate considered cooper to be flirting with him

ughhhh it’s so good so far, from the character interactions to the suspense, especially in this chapter

Chapter Ten

rude cooper is rude, rude nate is even more rude

F E D O R A

“coop”

Chapter Eleven

aw i love jimmy already—

WHAT THE FUCK COOPER

EXCUSE ME

JIMMY

WHAT

HOW COULD YOU

goddammit

what the fuck is cooper hiding

cooper oh my god

you

you’re playing a dangerous game, mate

are you really that heartless

“deceptively innocent eyes” you got that right

this chapter hurted

thanks a lot jess

Chapter Twelve

“like a weeping wound on the canvas of my home” this has got to be one of my favourite similes ever omg

the way nate’s describing cooper makes my heart hurt awh

i feel like butterflies have some sort of symbolism

maybe being ugly on the outside and beautiful on the inside, or vice versa? the vice versa was basically cooper lol

aye we finally get to meet audry!!

PEANUT BUTTER AND TRICYCLE I WANNA HEAR ABOUT THAT

i love audry omg

IT’S NATE’S BIRTHDAY?? HAPPY BIRTHDAY YA SMOKEY CONMAN

“bright eyes” is the cutest nickname ever

Chapter Thirteen

oh we’re back to 2080

wait what they’re trapped together

is this story gonna have a sad ending

please no

Chapter Fourteen

OH IT’S THE LINE ON THE COVER

i like that

nate’s back to where he left cooper

also if it wasn’t obvious before, it’s definitely obvious now that nate and cooper or gonna find each other again. hm. not sure how i feel about that

kind of pissed at cooper but also we need him for the story to progress

O H

COOPER IM ONLY KIND OF PISSED AT YOU NOW

IT MAKES SO MUCH SENSE

NATE IVE SAID IT BEFORE BUT YOU’RE PRETTY CLEVER

also who is ‘her’?

COOPER WANTS TO BECOME A?? LEMNIS?? GODDAMMIT MAN

I CAN FEEL THE PRESSURE RISING

nate’s in danger

wow this chapter is

a lot

i need a break

-cue a break-

Chapter Fifteen

i’m back

eisley is a cool last name

oh wait so even people outside of sanctuaries can become a lemniscate

i’m still not 100% sure what a lemniscate is

it’s so ironic elijah’s last name is king, but i assume you did that on purpose. i also like the slight nod to royalty by his first name

OH

COOPER’S BACK

why hello there

Chapter Sixteen

they’re

competing

to become a lemniscate

and one of them dies

do they fight back?? is that why they end up in prison??? so many thoughts are going through my head right now

nate, your fantasy about becoming a lemniscate is surprisingly dark. i’m totally down for it

Chapter Seventeen

oh wait so joshua is cooper’s blackmailer?? Interesting that it’s a lemniscate

i keep forgetting nate is wearing glasses

cooper, my dude, calm the fuck down. you’re gonna get yourself and nate killed

it’s the return of soft™ nate

Chapter Eighteen

oh there’s another one

oh this is very ominous i don’t like

Chapter Nineteen – Twenty-One

okay i was eating while i read so i couldn’t type here but just know that these chapters were really really good

Chapter Twenty-Two

wait fuck what’s happening this is all happening so fast

cooper brought out his gun,,,, it’s aimed at ivonne,,,,,,, they’re walking,,,

OH IT WAS A FAKE KIDNAPPING

nice

i like ivonne a lot

Chapter Twenty-Three

the entire story just changed course

this isn’t just about cooper and nate anymore, it’s about a corrupt government

NATE AND COOPER ARE HOLDING HANDS AS THEY RUN THROUGH THE BARRIER THAT’S SO ROMANTIC

also the line “only the dead are ever truly free” is beautiful

THAT’S WHERE PARIS COMES IN

THEY ALL GO TO FRANCE DON’T THEY

I’m so curious to find out where this story is going

Chapter Twenty-Four

this is doin me a confusion

but tbh these hints/ visions of the future, if you could call them that, are giving just enough information to keep me super interested. props to you

Chapter Twenty-Five

AUDRY STOP TEASING NATE

just joking keep doing it, this might actually get their relationship somewhere

ivonne is definitely my favourite character so far. she reminds a little of melia from xenoblade chronicles, in that they’re both ‘royalty’ that rebel. also they’re badass and smart

oh fuck the brother is here

okay thank god he’s not an asshole

oh god things are happening again

Chapter Twenty-Six

nate stop ogling at cooper when you’re in a life-or-death situation

holy shit the lemniscate are messed up

this crew is pretty great, it sucks that it’s almost the end of the book

WAIT I FORGOT THERE’S A SECOND COMING SOON HECK YEAH

anyway

YES COOPER PULL THROUGH

awwww yiss

Chapter Twenty-Seven

oh

oh

O H

oh my god i ship them so hard

THEY KISSED

THIS IS SO STEAMY

this chapter was art thank you so much for this

Chapter Twenty-Eight

AHAHAH AUDRY

once again, i’d like to state how much i love her

oh the tension just grew twentyfold

this is… great

oh god nate what are you planning, you just got together with cooper and now you want to leave him?

Chapter Twenty-Nine

what’s with all the dancing?

Chapter Thirty

oh god the description

so he’s going around and giving people credits, all the while confessing things that would help the lemniscate track him down. i assume this means he’s going to die, but why?

just what are you planning?

oh we’re back to clyde, the guy who started it all. it feels full circle

Chapter Thirty-One

OH

HE’S MAKING HIS CHIP SHOW THAT HE’S DEAD

that’s much smarter

FUCK

NATE YOU IDIOT—COOPER’S REAL NAME

SHIT NOW KING IS HERE

everything’s going downhill now isn’t it

Chapter Thirty-Two

wait that took an even darker turn

there’s so much happening right now i can’thandlethis

cooper and nate are couple goals

Chapter Thirty-Three

king isn’t as horrible as i thought

still horrible, but not a monster

NEVER MIND YOU’RE A FUCKING MONSTER WHAT IS THIS BS

cooper

actually

shot

nate

Chapter Thirty-Four

OH MY GOD

WHAT

THIS IS HOW YOU END IT

I CAN’T

HOW DARE YOU

NO

NO

NO

NO

i need the next book

like right now

what the hell

Final Thoughts

okay so this book was SO good, and so well written. like damn

aside from that horrible ending how could you do this to me

i’m joking, it was an incredible and emotional ending, i loved it and hated it at the same time

it very rarely felt static, and especially in the first half, there was a good mix of action and backstory/description. it was never boring

the story is just,,, so unique. i seriously haven’t read anything like it, EVER

the world-building?? Is?? so vast?? and insane??

the increasing tension and speed as the story progressed is perfect, i felt my heart beating faster the more i read

anyway that’s all from me

this book was amazing i cannot wait for the next

[theliberaltony]

via Politics – FiveThirtyEight

Welcome to a special weekend-edition of FiveThirtyEight’s weekly politics chat. The transcript below has been lightly edited.

micah (Micah Cohen, managing editor): Hey, everyone! We’ve convened here on a weekend(!) to talk about President Trump’s address to the nation on Saturday. Trump called the country together to make an offer to Democrats to try to end the partial government shutdown, now more than 28 days old.

Here’s Trump’s offer, summarized by Bloomberg News reporter Sahil Kapur:

President Trump outlines his offer:

• $800 million for “urgent humanitarian assistance”

• $805 million for drug detection technology

• 2,750 new border agents

• 75 new immigration judge teams

• $5.7 billion for a wall

• 3-year DACA protection for 700k

• 3-year TPS

— Sahil Kapur (@sahilkapur) January 19, 2019

So, the question in front of us: Is this offer likely to end the shutdown? And, more generally, is this a smart move politically by Trump, who’s seen his job approval rating erode as the shutdown has dragged on?

Let’s briefly start with that first question. What do you make of Trump’s offer? Will it bring about the end of the shutdown?

sarahf (Sarah Frostenson, politics editor): No.

micah: lol.

natesilver (Nate Silver, editor in chief): Nyet.

perry (Perry Bacon Jr., senior writer): It’s not at all likely to end the shutdown. House Speaker Nancy Pelosi bashed the proposal before the speech started (once reports came out with Trump’s offer). He didn’t consult Democrats before the proposal was released. It’s not clear he was even really trying to get Democrats to sign onto this.

sarahf: Yeah, what I don’t understand about the proposal is that it was negotiated without any Democratic input. It was just Vice President Mike Pence, Senior Adviser Jared Kushner and Senate Majority Leader Mitch McConnell talking with fellow Republicans.

natesilver: I mean, there are some permutations where this is the beginning of the end of the shutdown, I suppose.

Those have to involve some combination of (i) Trump offering a better deal than what he’s offering right now, and (ii) public opinion shifting to put more pressure on Democrats.

micah: So is the best way to look at this address as basically a political ploy — an attempt to change the politics of the shutdown? (I don’t mean “ploy” in a negative sense.)

perry: I think that’s the only way to look at this.

natesilver: The real audience for the speech is likely the media. Because we’re the only people sick enough to actually waste our Saturdays watching this thing.

slackbot: I’m sorry you aren’t feeling well. There is Advil, Aleve and Tylenol in the cabinet in front of Nate’s office/Vanessa’s desk.

micah: lol

natesilver: lol, slackbot

Anyway, in theory, “we’re willing to compromise and Democrats” aren’t is a perfectly decent message. It’s BS in various ways (mostly because the compromise Trump is offering isn’t too good). But it’s a fairly conventional message — to sell a not-very-great compromise as being a good deal.

sarahf: Right now, Americans overwhelmingly continue to blame Trump and congressional Republicans for the shutdown. Saturday’s speech seemed like an attempt on his part to try and shift some of that narrative by outlining a proposal that definitely seemed like a compromise.

perry: And I think it has as few potential good effects for Trump. First, it may help keep Republicans on Capitol Hill aligned with him. They were getting leery of his wall-only strategy. This makes it easier for the party to unify around him.

Second, Trump’s proposal allows McConnell to hold a vote and suggest he and his chamber are trying to resolve the shutdown too, just like the House is doing.

Finally, I assume, when pollsters ask people about this proposal, it will be more popular than the wall itself. My guess is it will be near 50 percent support and perhaps higher. Most people I assume aren’t totally against any money for the wall and feel like Dreamers must have a path to citizenship or else.

sarahf: And I don’t know if it’s a good look for Democratic leaders like Pelosi to immediately come out the gate saying, “nope this doesn’t work.” Then again, they weren’t consulted in the making of the deal it sounds like, so maybe she’d be better off highlighting that.

natesilver: I did think it was weird that Trump opened the address with a sort of uncharacteristically gentle paean to the virtues of legal immigration, but then careened to talking about drugs and gangs and violence and some of the other stuff that doesn’t usually pass a fact check. If you actually wanted to portray an image of bipartisanship, you could skip most of that stuff. Or you could talk about how there were extremists on both sides — call out Republicans for X and Y reason.

micah: Well …

I do wonder if this could change the politics of the shutdown in more than one way, as Perry was getting at.

It could make Democrats look like the intransigent side, as you were all saying.

But, it could also shift the narrative towards more “border crisis” and less “wall.” And that’s better political ground for Trump. Polls show more people believe there is a crisis at the border than support a wall.

sarahf: Right, last week we looked at different pollsters who asked Americans what they thought of the situation at the U.S.-Mexico border. I was surprised by the number of Americans who thought it was a serious problem or a crisis. Fifty-four percent of respondents in a Quinnipiac poll said they believed there was a security crisis along the border with Mexico. And in a CBS News/YouGov poll, 55 percent said the situation was “a problem, but not a crisis.”

natesilver: It could shift things — although, again, it’s worth mentioning that the deal Trump offered isn’t really much of a deal at all.

In fact, it offers a bit less than what they floated last night.

That was my read too -& this is a crucial distinction Democrats are already seizing upon. WH officials last night said it was the Bridge Act-& confirmed that to other reporters today-but what Trump announced just now is NOT the Bridge Act, it's a more limited twist on it. https://t.co/CxX154n9As

— Jonathan Swan (@jonathanvswan) January 19, 2019

The DACA part itself is a compromise, but to get that compromise, Democrats have to give up something (wall funding) that they’re firmly opposed to.

Although, it probably is fair to say that the wall is also a compromise of sorts. As Trump actually emphasized. It’s not all that much wall. It’s certainly not a big concrete wall stretching the length of the border.

sarahf: I know! OMG, what a 180 from him on that!

And, as Democrats will be quick to point out, they were already working on their own legislation that would give $1 billion in funding for border security (but not a wall – to be clear).

natesilver: Right, and Trump hasn’t really made the case as to why a wall is necessary to stop the humanitarian crisis at the border.

The other thing is that … none of this is really new. This compromise, if you want to call it that, has been around for a long time. Democrats have rejected it because it doesn’t give them enough. They rejected better versions of this compromise before the shutdown began, in fact.

And Democrats have more leverage now than then because Trump needs the shutdown to end a lot more than they do — it’s hurting him politically.

micah: I guess my point is more that the convo may change.

perry: To put this bluntly, I think this speech had two audiences the media (so they will do “both sides” coverage) and Republicans (so they will stay loyal to Trump on this issue). I assume this speech will buy him at least of few days of that. And both of those, as Micah suggests, will help with the public opinion.

sarahf: I was kind of surprised that he made no mention of the thousands of furloughed government workers.

Like some kind of nod to their hardship. But nada.

perry: They’re all Democrats.

I’m joking, but that is what he thinks.

natesilver: The question is partly: will the press run with Trump’s frame?

micah: Nate, I don’t know if the media will run with it.

Probably?

The headline in the lower-third on CNN right now is “Pelosi rejects Trump’s proposal to end shutdown.”

perry: Trump may have bought himself at least another week to sustain this shutdown. Next week will be 1. Pelosi rejected Trump’s idea before he spoke, and 2. Senate holds vote and Democrats filibuster.

You all disagree?

micah: I think that’s right, Perry.

As we’re chatting, here’s Politico’s headline: “Trump’s bid to negotiate on wall met by Democratic rejection”

The Washington Post: “Trump offers to protect ‘dreamers’ temporarily in exchange for wall funds”

Dallas Morning News: “Trump seeks border wall funding in exchange for DACA protections to end shutdown”

natesilver: There’s at least some semi-intelligent understanding on the White House’s part of how media dynamics work.

At least parts of the speech play well into the media’s “both sides-ism.”

micah: NBC News: “Trump offers new shutdown deal, Democrats expected to reject it”

Los Angeles Times: “President Trump proposes to extend protections for ‘Dreamers’ in exchange for border wall funding”

ABC News: “Trump will extend ‘Dreamers,’ TPS protection in exchange for full border wall funding”

CBS News: “Trump proposes deal on immigration, Pelosi calls shutdown offer a ‘non-starter’”

natesilver: But the thing about that NBC headline is that the “new” part is pretty misleading.

perry: Those are great headlines for Trump. Considering the reality is closer to this:

Isn't this a kind of hostage-taking squared? First end the programs. Then shut the government. Then promise to temporarily restore the programs you've ended & reopen the govt you have closed, in return for the ransom of $ for a wall that 55-60% of country consistent opposes? https://t.co/PhsMABh6VC

— Ronald Brownstein (@RonBrownstein) January 19, 2019

micah: Yeah, at least in the very very early going, this seems like a good move by Trump.

natesilver: Keep in mind that media might feel a little chastened this week by the mess that’s become of the BuzzFeed story.

micah: Yeah, I was thinking that.

perry: I also think that keeping the Lindsey Graham’s of the world happy is something Trump cares about. The Republicans on the Sunday shows now have something to say. So do the Will Hurd’s.

micah: Very good point.

perry: Pelosi and Democrats, I would argue, were more unified than Republicans before this speech. But I wonder if some moderate Democrats start getting nervous now.

natesilver: The path here is like:

1. Trump and Republicans maintain some degree of message discipline for a week or so; 1b. Trump and Republicans don’t face too many defections from their own base; 2. Polling and other indications show that blame for the shutdown is shifting away from Trump and toward Democrats; 2b. There aren’t any strikes or planes falling from the sky that create a crisis and force an immediate end to the shutdown; 3. Trump offers Democrats a little bit — maybe quite a bit — more.

If all of that happens, maybe he gets a deal!

And no one of those steps is *that* crazy.

perry: So the fundamentals of this issue have not changed, you are saying, Nate?

natesilver: I don’t really think it changed anything.

perry: I agree.

natesilver: Except Trump made a chess move to advance the game instead of just sitting there petulantly staring at his opponent and watching his clock run down.

micah: “It gives him some more time” is a good read, I think.

natesilver: It was an extremely standard chess move, but at least it was a move!

sarahf: Well, I mean leading up to this speech there had been some speculation he’d declare a national emergency. And he didn’t do that.

So all things considered, I think this was a much smarter political move to make.

natesilver: Oh yeah, this is definitely better than that.

sarahf: Because I do think at this point Democrats have to say something other than, “we won’t support this.”

natesilver: It was, like, almost what a normal president with a competent group of advisors would do!

sarahf: Hahaha yeah

natesilver: But it will require a lot of follow through.

perry: I think Trump is aware that declaring a national emergency is a “loss.” He doesn’t want a “loss.” I don’t know how he gets a win. I actually think, this proposal, if it was passed, would very much irritate the right.

I will be curious how the right receives this idea.

perry: Ann Coulter attacked it hard.

natesilver: Coulter attacked it … although… you could almost say that’s helpful for Trump.

perry: Good point.

It makes it seem like more of a compromise if the right hates it.

natesilver: Now, if he loses the votes from several conservative Republicans in the Senate, then he’s screwed.

Or if he himself has second thoughts because Sean Hannity calls him tonight, he could screw himself.

perry: That’s an interesting question: Can Sen. Ted Cruz vote for this?

Can it actually pass the Senate?

micah: That is interesting!

perry: Because I assume part of the play here is for Republicans in the Senate to be seen doing something about the shutdown.

Would Sens. Susan Collins and Cory Gardner support this from the left-wing of the GOP? I think yes. But would Cruz, and some of the more hard-core immigration members on the more conservative wing of the party?

I assume yes, but I’m not sure.

micah: Wouldn’t you assume he cleared this with the Cruz’s of the world before unveiling it?

perry: I would not at all assume that.

micah: LOL.

That was a soft-ball.

perry: McConnell maybe.

sarahf: Yeah, I’m not picturing mass Republican defections here in the Senate … I guess just because McConnell seems to have been so heavily involved in negotiating this.

natesilver: Right, yeah

perry: Do we think any Democrats vote for it?

Doug Jones? Joe Manchin?

I assume no, right?

natesilver: Manchin maybe.

He voted to confirm Supreme Court Justice Brett Kavanaugh, so it’s not exactly like he’s worried about stoking the ire of the Democratic base.

sarahf: But it does make you wonder why Trump ever listened to Mark Meadows and the Freedom Caucus in the first place getting into this mess.

Wouldn’t have $1.7 billion or whatever it was and no extension for DACA, TPS, etc. have been more popular for them?

I guess none of it went to the wall. So maybe not. No way to appease anyone!

natesilver: Right, the $1.7 billion didn’t specifically include border wall funding though.

perry: Another question: I think I’m a believer in the distraction theory, so would Trump have scheduled this speech if he knew Buzzfeed’s Michael Cohen story would be so heavily criticized?

micah: He sorta stepped on a pretty good news cycle for him.

Though Buzzfeed is standing by its reporting.

natesilver: Hmm. But the fact that he had a good news cycle probably means that today will be portrayed more favorably by the press.

So that gave him more incentive to do it.

perry: So you think the media, cowed by the coverage of the Cohen story, will cover this announcement more favorably than otherwise?

natesilver: The headlines we’re seeing are not “Embattled Trump desperately proposes already-rejected compromise in meandering speech,” but rather “Trump proposes new compromise and Pelosi rejects.”

micah: And you think the former is more accurate than the latter?

natesilver: I think “Trump again proposes already-rejected compromise in competent speech; Pelosi reiterates that she won’t agree” is roughly correct.

micah: The other thing maybe worth keeping in mind: The politics of the shutdown right now are really bad for Trump. Trump is unpopular, and the wall is even more unpopular. This is from our friends at The Upshot:

micah: And this is from us:

I guess what I’m saying is that it wouldn’t be too surprising if the politics of this improved for Trump after his speech, given where they are now. There’s plenty of room to improve.

Anyway … final thoughts?

perry: We know that presidential addresses generally don’t work. But Trump is making those political scientists look really smart.

sarahf: I think the fact that Trump didn’t consult Democratic leadership is a big ding against this proposal. But the fact that Trump did put forward some kind of compromise is something. It has the potential to change the politics around the shutdown.

It’ll be interesting to see what congressional Republicans actually put forward and what Democrats choose to counter with.

natesilver: I thought it was a bit weird at the end when Trump said this was just the start of negotiations on a much bigger immigration solution.

If this is just small potatoes stuff, Pelosi might ask, why do we need to keep the government shut down, when we’re going to have a much bigger discussion about immigration anyway?

That’s ultimately the question that Trump doesn’t really have a good answer for. Why do we need to keep the government shut down to have this negotiation?

Senate Minority Leader Chuck Schumer and Pelosi will need to be clear about that in their own messaging.

At the same … I wonder if they also want to float, maybe on background because it does sort of contradict the message of “no negotiations at all while there’s a shutdown,” some notion of what a real compromise would look like. e.g. the full DREAM Act.

Or my idea: Offer HR1, the Democrats’ election reform/voting rights bill, in exchange for the border wall.

perry: The one reason I have a hard time seeing any deal being cut: “the wall is a monument to racism” is a real view on the left and has real influence. That makes it much harder Democrats to sign off on any money for the wall.

natesilver: Also, Republicans would presumably never agree to HR 1. But it moves the Overton Window (sorry if that’s become an overused concept now) and frames the idea that Republicans are nowhere near offering a fair compromise.

If the wall is so important to Trump — and he’s often talked about it as his signature priority — a fair offer now that we have bipartisan control of government would be to give Democrats what’s literally their No. 1 priority (given that they named the bill HR1) as well.

(That’s Pelosi’s hypothetical argument, not me necessarily endorsing the deal as fair to Republicans.)

micah: Yeah, that kind of deal seems a looooooong ways off.

[smalltowndetective]

26&15 with A or M and the detective...

Hello Anon! I could not combine these two prompts together no matter how hard I tried. So, instead, you get two fics for the price of one. :) I hope you enjoy them! I’m sorry these took so long!

You also let me write deep relationship Adam, and for that I have to thank you anon. I did not realize how much I wanted to do so until now.

But first some Mason.

15- Mason- “Was that supposed to hurt?”

Ao3 Link (Mason)

Title: Right Place, Right Time

Pairing: Mason and Cherie ( @lividlyinlove‘s detective)

Words: 1k

Note: Cherie is not my own detective, but I liked this prompt better with Lividlyinlove’s detective. (And I’m going to put both fics under the cut)

Mason really hated arguing with Cherie.

               And he especially hated how it was becoming all they were doing whenever they were around each other.

               She just makes everything so damn confusing.

               He knew that he had no reason to act like he was hers, and he would have never expected her to act like she was tethered to him either, but it did not calm the sudden sting that he barely understood.

               Why does this keep happening?

               And he was not quite sure how to put it, but he was worried for her. She had been beating herself up since things had gone south with Falk and the maa-alused.

               But he did not know how to bring this up to her, and every attempt to even mention it ended with one of the storming out of the room.

               Part of Mason almost wanted to ask Nate what to do, but that foolish idea was bitten down the next moment.

               How would you even explain what’s going on?

               He was still did not understand why he could not just move past from all of this.

               She’s not interested.

               And it’s okay that she’s not.

               But why do I feel like I can’t move on?

No matter what he did, however, he had not been able to.

               She wants more in relationship then I do.

               But what do I really want?

               I don’t know anymore.

               Cherie had been doing everything to avoid him these past few days, but he decided he was going to say something.

               Mason was not sure why he had the sudden urge to say something about it, but it was not one that he was going to let go unnoticed.

               I need to get this all out in the open.

               He finally worked up the nerve to go striding into her office, and she turned as he entered.

               “What are you doing here Mason?”, she said, a slight bite in her voice that never seemed to leave around him. She raised one of her eyebrows, when he did not answer immediately, and it was hard not to take the challenge in her brown eyes.

               You are going to do with what you came here to do.

               “We need to talk”, was all that he could say, and for a reason he could not understand why, he felt his chest sink when she scoffed.

               “What could we possibly have to talk about?”, she replied.

               He felt a glare form on his face on his face before he knew it, and he growled out, “The maa-alused”

               “Oh, you’re going to bring that up?”, she demanded, her voice starting to rise, “Remind me again how it was failure, why don’t you?”

               “This isn’t about that”

               “Then what is this about, Mason?”, she said, spitting out his name in a way that made his skin crawl.

               He struggled to find the right words to say, the words that would put everything in a neat little package and fully convey what he wanted to.

               And instead, it all came out wrong, and he knew it.

               “I don’t like this sudden change in you that happened after what happened with the maa-alused”

               Shit

               He regretted saying it as soon as he did, but it was too late now to take it back, and even though Mason turned his head away, he could hear Cherie’s heart pound.

               “Wow, was that supposed to hurt?”, she weakly laughed, and she gave him the fakest smile he had ever seen, “You are going to have to try harder than that”

               “Cherie…”, he stammered out before he could stop himself.

               “You’re going to use my name now?”, she seethed, and then her voice went quiet, “I don’t even know why I try with you”

               Frustration started to crawl at him, and he felt his fists clench.

               This isn’t how this was supposed to go.

               He could feel just how hurt she was even a few feet away from him, regardless of how she was acting, and he had the sudden desire to reach out to her, but he knew she would immediately pull away if he did.

               It’s not going to end with one of us leaving.

               Not this time.

               “It wasn’t your fault”, he suddenly said.

               The anger disappeared from her face for a look one of confusion instead, “What are you talking about?”

               “The maa-alused joining the rouges”, he said, “They made their decision”

               “And are you going to act like if I had handled it different, it may not have happened?”, the bite in her voice, but the challenge gone from her eyes, and he tried to hide a sigh of relief from seeing that.

               “You don’t know that”, he replied, “No one does. But you’re not going to solve anything from beating yourself up”

               I can tell you that right now

               His words came out nonchalantly, but the weight was there.

               Cherie’s eyebrows dipped down, and he watched her hostile stance, a stance that even though she was only 5’0”, could still be found intimidating.

               “Yeah, I guess I know that”, she said, keeping her eyes pointedly away from him, “Doesn’t make it any easier”

                Mason was not quite sure what to say, and he doubted he ever would, but he answered anyway,

               “We’ll deal with it all as it comes”, he muttered, and she finally met his eyes.

               “And what everything ends up worse because of it?”

               “Then we handle that”, he replied, and he saw the ghost of a smile on her face before it disappeared as quickly as it appeared.

               “We will”, she breathed out, and she opened her mouth to say something else, but she bit it back down.

               He took that moment to leave, not having anything to add, and just when he was about to, he heard her voice.

               “Mason?”

               He turned, and he watched her give a shuddering breath.

               “Thank you”

               He nodded at her, and continued to leave, feeling better that they had ended their conversation on better terms.

               Maybe there could still be hope.

               Mason felt himself give a scowl at that.

               Of what exactly?

               He shook his head to put that line of questioning of out his mind, and he continued down the hallway.

               26- Adam- It was you the whole time

Ao3 Link (Adam)

Title: Rainy Days

Pairing: Adam and Natasha

Words: 1.1k

She stared out of her apartment window, watching the rain.

               It had been pouring for the majority of the day, some of the streets in Wayhaven already starting to flood, and she grimaced at the thought of how her hatchback would end up stuck if she tried to drive through it.

               It does put a damper to the beauty of the rain.

               Sighing, she poured herself a glass of wine, and she took a sip, letting the slightly acidic flavor flood her tastebuds.

               “Did you get lost in there?”, Adam’s voice suddenly called out, and she gave a smile at the sound of it.

               After what was so long of both of them denying what this might be, it had actually happened. They were now- she supposed- officially dating, while sometimes it did not feel real, since she was still denying the fact that something would come from it not too long ago.

               Well, something did, didn’t it?

               Everything had finally come together, and she suddenly felt like she had someone that she could open up to, someone that she wanted to show every part of herself to.

               And as hard as that is, I think I’m ready.

               She walked back into the living room, taking her glass with her as she walked into stark, black and white minimalist style that was the room, and she sat next to Adam on the couch, who had a glass of wine of his own.

               “Has anyone ever told you that you can be a real smartass sometimes?”, she asked, giving him the faint appearance of a wink.

               At one point, it has rare to hear a joke at all from him, but it had seemed like he had found his sense of humor that he had forgotten about after 900 years.

               He gave a small chuckle, “I suppose I have you to remind me of that now”

               Natasha rolled her eyes, but she was unable to hide the smile on her face as she gently gave him a shove.

               “You’re really not as funny as you seem to think you are”

               “Oh?”, Adam said, his eyebrows raising, “And yet you seem to be smiling anyway”

               “You’re impossible”, she shook her head, and he moved his hand to rest on her thigh, and the simple touch made her pulse race, as she was reminded of a time where he would have drawn back from making contact with her.

               But to be fair, I probably would as well if I tried to reach out.

               “The rain does not seem to letting up”, she said more to her herself than to him, “Pretty sure we’re going to be stuck inside for a while”

               “Then what do you think we should do?”

               “Well, I was thinking we would probably spend it together”, Natasha replied, a sly smile forming on her lips, “Unless you plan on ignoring me the entire time you’re here”

               “And you call me a smartass...”, he muttered, but a hint of amusement not hidden, and she gave a laugh at that.

               She had never let herself relax around anyone before, always keeping her face straight and poised, careful no to let anyone know how she was feeling, but something was different now. The most obvious difference, one that she knew that Tina had taken note of, was wearing her hair down, after so many years of keeping it tightly kept in a low bun for the majority of her adult life.

               He pulled the more vulnerable side from her without even trying, and she was finally comfortable showing him that side.

               And of course, that meant her sarcastic side that she would usually keep in her head and never say aloud, but she felt she had no reason to hide that anymore.

               “Well, I hope you’re not going to ignore me”, she continued.

               Adam leaned closer ever so slightly, gently running his hand down the slope of her jaw, and it was still amazing to her, that before all of this, she hated when people would touch her face, regardless of who it was.

               But there was something different when he did it, making her feel safe, the however familiar the feeling may have felt, it was something that she had not gotten over.

               “What do you have in mind?”, he whispered, a smolder forming on his lips that still surprised her whenever she saw it.

               I would have never thought he would be capable of such a thing before.

               “As long as you stay close”, she replied, moving forward to rest her forehead on his, and she felt him gently press back, “There’s nothing else I would ever want”

               “I think I can do that”, Adam said, giving her the hint of a smile.

               She returned his smile, and it got her thinking about just how they had met, and just far they had come since then.

               Still can’t believe this the person that I pepper sprayed all those months ago.

               Natasha tried to imagine what would have happened if she could capture this moment and send it to her just after she met Unit Bravo, and how she would have reacted.

               Honestly not sure if I would have just doubled down on my denial or be open to it all.

               It had taken the two of them forever to even get to this moment, and while it had been a long and winding road, with more steps taken backward then forward, both of them contributing to the moving backwards, she would not trade it for anything.

               “It was you the whole time, you know”, she spoke, feeling the words leave her lips before she could stop herself, but she doubted she would even if she wanted to

               “I know”, he simply answered, and she could feel him smile against her skin.

               “Took us a while to admit it though”, she gently chuckled.

               “And I’d say it was worth it, Nat”, he muttered, giving her a whisper of a kiss on the side of her face.

               Nat

               She was not sure why he started calling her so, and she usually hated anyone’s attempt to nickname her in the past, preferring to keep things to her surname, or at the most her first name, but this was different.

               I think I could get used to being called Nat. I think I really could.

               By Adam of course.

               “It really was, wasn’t it?”, she said, moving to kiss the side of his face, and she felt him exhale at the touch.

               Neither of them said anything more, still pressed close against each other, and the rain continued to fall outside, almost rhythmically, and the moment seemed to last forever, not that either of them would ever want to rush through it.

[neighbours-kid]

Dammit, Dean Devlin.

Once upon a time, there was this little show called Leverage.

It first aired in 2008. It had 5 seasons, 77 episodes, 5 main characters.

I was probably fifteen when I first laid eyes on this little show. I was at my dad's, it was some time after dinner, we were watching TV. And there it was, that first episode. We watched it, it was fun.

Over the course of a couple of years, I kept catching that episode on TV. But only the first one. Never more than that.

I forgot about it and was surprised every time I saw the episode. And I kept thinking, I wanna check this out, this looks like fun.

I think either shortly before the last season aired in 2012, or shortly after, I finally remembered the show well enough to go, okay, let's watch this. I have not been the same person since.

This little show called Leverage is without a doubt the best show I have ever seen in my life, and it is to this day still the only thing that has never disappointed me once. I loved Chuck, but it was not perfect. I had issues with it. I love the Marvel Netflix stuff, I think it's fun. But it's not perfect. I adore NCIS and The Mentalist. Are they perfect? Nope.

But I cannot find one single flaw about Leverage. I love it with all my heart and I would not change one single thing. Well, maybe I would've not cancelled it after five seasons. But even with that....it rounds off so perfectly. The last season, the finale, it is so fucking perfect.

One of the things that made Leverage so perfect, were the absolutely fantastic main characters and the development they had over those five seasons. I feel like I could write endlessly about the character development in this show. It's so marvellous and so well done.

You have Nate Ford, the "leader" of the group, this little family. The ex-insurance fraud detective, so broken, so flawed, such a wonderful jerk. He makes sure that the plans work, he is the mastermind behind their cons, their grifts, their thefts. He is the puppet master. Ah, I adooooore him. His alcoholism and control issues were never glamorised, it wasn't sugarcoated, and he was not vilified for it. He grew so much in those five seasons, he changed a lot, and yet he never betrayed his own character. Tim Hutton just smashes this role. I really, truly adore him.

You have Sophie Devereaux, femme fatale, grifter extraordinaire, a character so diverse, so beautifully portrayed by Gina Bellman, from episode to episode different, and yet still only one very complex and wonderfully crafted character. While Nate is the one who makes sure that the plan works, Sophie is the one to make sure that everyone gets out of it alive, unharmed, safe. She is the caretaker. To watch a grifter struggle with identity issues is such a great thing. Watching Sophie finding herself, finding her own dreams and ambitions, finding her calling over those five seasons, was such a treat.

That's the "parents". Then you have the "kids".

Alec Hardison, a motherfuckin' ray of sunshine. Hardison is the nerd, the geek, master of computers, the best hacker on earth, and just an all around joy. Only 22 when they started filming, Aldis Hodge is so fucking young but he plays him like a master. Aldis absolutely acts the shit out of that character. Hardison is such a sweetheart. On my first round through the show, he was definitely my favorite character, I identified with him so much. He was handsome, he was elegant, he had style, he was such a beautifully crafter character, and he still was the nerd and he is still black. You don't usually get that. Hardison is so incredibly kind and loving and all he wants is for his little family of criminals to feel good, to be safe, to feel loved. He gives them a home wherever they go. Aldis Hodge fucking rocked this role and I can't do anything but applaud him.

Then you have Parker, the all around misfit. Usually, in every other show, her character would be dismissed as either the "beauty" just there for the male gaze, or the weirdo who is the butt of every joke. But not with Leverage. Just like the other characters, she is wonderfully portrayed by Beth Riesgraf, has so many interesting layers and we learn so much about her over those five seasons. Parker is the world's greatest thief, she likes money for money's sake, she experienced a lot of bad things, was hurt in so many ways, and came out of it anyway. She found her own family, the people who did not dismiss her as a freak, an outcast, but embraced her being different, maybe a little weird, and loved her anyway. The relationships she builds with the other characters are so very different from each other, so well thought out, so wonderfully done. And what Leverage does so masterfully is that it does not pit Sophie and Parker against each other. It gives you a beautiful friendship between those two women, who could not be different from each other. There is so much love, respect and understanding between those characters. It's so refreshing to see. Have I mentioned how much I love this show already? I fucking love this show.

And then you have Eliot Spencer. Oh, I could cry buckets just thinking about him. I have never in my life seen such beautiful character development. What they did with Eliot over those five seasons is an absolute masterpiece of writing. Eliot -- the hitter, the fighter, the stone cold cowboy, whose fists say more than his mouth -- that guy changes so much. But not just that, he's not just the fighter. He's the "beau" mostly, and not Sophie. And he is incredibly passionate about cooking. You have this knife-wielding, punch-throwing, fucking badass, and he loves cooking. There is so much history revealed over the course of the show and he learns so. fucking. much. He goes from "You all annoy me and I'm just here for revenge and money" to "I will protect these people from this unjust world with my life and I would take on dragons and mountain trolls if it meant that they are safe and protected". Christian Kane is such a wonderful actor and he gives this character an immense amount of depth and he has more than three dimensions. Eliot is a masterpiece. And I love him to pieces. I could write ESSAYS about him. Long, wordy, essays.

You have this beautiful little family of thieves, of criminals, con-men, flawed, hurt, wonderful people. Incredibly gorgeously crafted characters, played so magnificently by all these great, amazing actors.

Leverage has rocked my world and sparked so many different interests in me. I would be a completely different person without it. I have no idea how many times I have watched it through. I spent at least half a year just going through it over and over and over again. As soon as I watched the finale, I put the first season on again, no stops, no pauses. It never got boring, I kept seeing new things, kept making connections between certain things. This show brought me so much joy. I love it with all my heart.

What Dean Devlin and John Rogers created is a show that makes me feel at home, that makes my heart swell with love, that was just absolutely fucking perfect. And still, it got cancelled and the last season ended in 2012.

Two years later, a NATO counter terrorism agent is in the middle of taking down terrorist and stopping a bomb from exploding, when suddenly an arrogant, brilliant, kind of dashing guy shows up, talks about ancient artefacts and curses and mythologies, and helps the agent stopping the bomb.

And with that, The Librarians is born. Or better yet, reborn into a tv show. By whom? None other than John Rogers and Dean Devlin.

What is it? Well, it's a little show that just finished it's fourth season. It's a show about a team of people who would've never found together if they had not been thrown into this adventure. They could not be different.

You have Flynn Carsen, a kind of arrogant, incredibly brilliant and well-versed guy, who is kind of dashing, has a tendency to go off and do things by himself, and is, more or less, the "leader" of the group.

You have Eve Baird, ex-NATO agent, the actual leader of the group, the protector, who sees to it that everyone gets out of the adventures alive. She is the guardian. Eve is a strong, independent woman who don't need no man, but chooses to have one anyway, because that self-destructive, arrogant idiot is so very intriguing, and he genuinely cares about her.

You have Ezekiel Jones, a Korean-Australian, nerd, computer genius, thief and, deep down, a sweetheart. He is more arrogant than anyone, he loves nothing more than himself, and saying his name, but he does have a heart. A big one. And he loves his new-found family.

You have Cassandra Killian, a quirky, pretty, absolutely brilliant young lady, who does not always fit in. She gets excited about things at the wrong time, she is overly hyperactive at times, but so so loyal, and caring, and loving.

And then you have Jacob Stone. The fighter. The brawler. The country kid from Oklahoma. The one you look at and think, that guy has skin like stone, nothing can hurt him, and he has no soft side. You have this tough ass bitch of a guy.... and he is soooooooo passionate about art, about architecture, about literature, about poetry. He quotes some author in every episode. He gets excited about museums and buildings and old symbols and engravings. And he cares so much about these people he only just met, he will protect them with everything he's got. A big teddy bear, a softie.

(Then you also have Jenkins who is just absolutely fantastic and I adore him and I could go on for ages about him but words could not make him justice, so I'm not trying. Also, he is kinda not relevant for my point.)

Now look at those five characters.

Leader guy, arrogant, self-destructive, cares so much but can't really express it, runs from commitment for the longest time, but actually wants to stay, just doesn't know how?

Strong, independent woman who's actually kind of the leader, sees to it that everyone feels good, doesn't need a man, but falls for the one who runs away anyway?

Nerdy, non-white computer guy, who knows he is awesome at what he does, is unconventionally stylish compared to the usual type of this character, cares about his new found family a lot and tries to support them with new ideas?

Brilliant, weird woman but absolutely beautiful in her own way, very caring but can't express it sometime, quirky and hyperactive?

Badass softie with a super specific interest he is brilliant at despite it maybe being considered effeminate in comparison to his other super manly, buff-ness, played by Christian Kane?

Sound familiar?

Nate or Flynn, Sophie or Eve, Hardison or Ezekiel, Parker or Cassie, Eliot or Jacob?

I am NOT saying these are exactly the same characters, far from it. They are all their own wonderful selves. But there are similarities there that I just adore so much. I admit, I think of Jacob as just an alias of Eliot's that he had before he joined the Leverage crew, and he is indeed the very same person. But that's just me, because I love Leverage so much and I miss it with all my heart and having the opportunity to have Eliot live on in something else? I'll take it in a heart beat.

I started watching The Librarians a few weeks ago. I am close to finishing season three now. It took me about two seasons to warm up to Flynn, and I admit I still don't like him as much as I loved Nate. I admit, Ezekiel still pisses me off a lot because of his constant "I am Ezekiel Jones". And yet... I still like them. I still think they are wonderfully crafted characters.

I did not mean to like The Librarians. I did go into this show thinking that I probably won't like it because it's not Leverage. These are not my beloved characters and this is not the best show on earth. But it's a good show. It's a beautiful show. It's lovely.

And I fucking HATE that I like it so much, because I really did not want to love another show. I am so pissed at myself for really liking it.

But I do. And I wish this show all the best. Season four just ended and the campaigning for a fifth season is on its way. I think it really deserves it. I am so on board for a fifth season.

I have one more thing to say.

Dammit. Dammit, Dean Devlin. Dammit, John Rogers. I did not want to like this show. And yet your wonderful show is exactly that. Wonderful. Adorable. Lovely.

I really miss Leverage. I miss it so much. And I wish you'd make a movie, get the gang back together again for one last job. Just one more time breaking the law, no encores.

(Thank you Dean, John, and also Chris Downey, for Leverage. It still is everything I ever wanted from a TV show and still the only show that never disappointed me. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. You guys are the best.)

[sixstepsawaywrites]

;the damage is done [ch. 4/10]

the oculus is destroyed, wiping Leonard Snart right out of time along with it. (au after season 1)

                            [ all chapters | prev ]

is it required?

He fit in with the team like he belonged there. 

There wasn’t much they could do with him, a naked traveller from god knows where (or, more importantly, when) so they kept him. 

“Like a pet?” he drawled, leaning in the doorway where he’d overheard their conversation from. “I’m not sure how I feel about being your dog.” 

“I’m not giving him belly rubs,” Mick said, a beer put to his lips. “I don’t pet Temporal Anomalies.” 

“We can’t keep calling him that,” Nate said with a sigh. “He’s – y’know! – a person, as far as I can tell.” He looked over at the man in the doorway. “Seems person-y.” 

“He’s a person,” Sara said, a little quicker than she’d like. So what if she’d been getting to know him a little? It wasn’t fair to treat him like an object or a dog. 

“So what do we call him?” Ray said. “Peter? Walter?” Sara cut her eyes over to him and he shrank a tiny bit. “Tinkerbell?”

“Could just ask him what name he’d like,” Mick said, quiet almost like he thought they’d ignore him. 

“Good point,” Sara said. She looked across at the Temporal Anomaly. “Well... What should we call you? Do you want to pick a name?” 

He considered that for a moment, then sauntered across, sitting down and taking Mick’s beer right out of his hands. Ray’s jaw dropped. Nate stared. Amaya stayed quiet, but looked between the two men, her hand creeping for her pendant. “Do I need one?” he asked, like he hadn’t just stolen Mick’s beer. 

He took a swig. Mick stared at him, torn between confusion over what he’d just done and confusion over how angry he wasn’t. 

“We can hardly continue calling you the Temporal Anomaly,” Amaya said. 

“Why not?” The man shrugged and took another sip, then offered the bottle to Sara, where she was sitting just across from him. 

Mick tracked the bottle with his eyes as Sara took it and drank. Ray squeaked a couple of times. 

“It—I mean—” Nate stammered. 

“I like it,” the anomaly stated. “It’s enigmatic. Mysterious. Frightening.” 

“You think Temporal Anomaly is frightening?” Mick said, taking his bottle when Sara offered it to him. 

“Do you think Heatwave is?” the anomaly asked, no hint of malice in his tone. “Are you going to tan everyone to death?” 

Sara tensed, but to her surprise (and his), Mick let out a laugh. “I might just do that.” 

“Then—Then it’s settled,” Ray stammered. “We just call him Temporal Anomaly.” 

“Until we figure out who he is at least,” Sara said, looking across at the anomaly. “Just because we’re letting you stay, that doesn’t mean we trust you.” 

“Noted,” the anomaly said, and sipped Mick’s beer. 

*** 

The only thing that was really off about the anomaly (Sara felt weird calling him that) so far was that she’d noticed things would go missing and then reappear. 

For example, Mick, the one day, couldn’t find his sweater. It seemed like a small thing and she was sure he hadn’t taken it off in 1901 the day before, but he couldn’t find it regardless. 

Next day, it showed up. 

Then Nate’s history book went missing. Mick asked how he could tell, considering how many he’d scrounged back to his room, but it was definitely gone. 

Until it wasn’t. 

The pattern repeated: one of Amaya’s bracelets, Ray’s screwdriver, Steins glasses for a whole day, Jax’s music player, a comb from Sara’s dresser. They all went missing and then reappeared. 

And she knew why. 

Amaya wasn’t trained. Mick wasn’t observant. Ray was oblivious. Stein was distracted. Jax was young. 

Sara, on the other hand, was league of assassins. She had perfected the art of stealth, both in being unseen and seeing the unseen. 

“Gideon, has anything changed with this item?” she asked of her comb, placing it in a scanner. 

“No, Captain Lance,” Gideon said. “It is as it should be.” 

She hadn’t thought it would be different, but it was best to be sure. She liked Barry Allen, but she wasn’t as trusting as the man who kept inviting traitors in for dinner. 

Had her comb and Mick’s sweater and all the other items stayed missing, she’d think that the anomaly was just a thief, stealing for the sake of taking and having, or even trying to hurt them, but nothing precious had been taken (her comb had sat between a photo of Laurel and another of Oliver, next to Laurel’s favourite gold ring, and an arrow necklace with an emerald cut into it that reminded her of Oliver, even if she’d never wear it out) and all the items had been returned to where they’d been taken from within a day or two. 

Which meant he enjoyed the challenge. 

Stealing Stein’s glasses had meant sneaking into his quarters and taking them while he slept. Jax’s music player had been in his pocket. Ray’s screwdriver most likely under his nose. 

Her comb had been in her room, locked tight and inaccessible. 

And yet, he’d acquired it. 

He liked the challenge more than the having, it seemed. He didn’t want her comb or Mick’s sweater, he wanted to know he could take it without anyone knowing what he’d done. 

It was possible returning it was a point of pride too. 

She didn’t say anything to him. She let her combs go missing, an occasional broach be lifted, and kept an eye out for any sign of pickpocketing or theft that could cause damage to her ship or crew, and she bided her time. 

A good opportunity to use what she’d figured out showed up a few weeks later. 

The man who’d killed her sister, the man who’d killed her, and the man Barry Allen had mistakenly thought of as a friend, had teamed up to try and end the world. 

She’d be more concerned if she had much more left to lose. 

But as it was she just had a mission to focus on and this time it was stealing an amulet from a museum before the legion of doom (she hated Nate for that name) could steal it first. 

“I suppose we could rig the alarm system to not go off,” Ray said, wrinkling his brow up. “It’s higher tech than I’m used to though.” 

She looked up from the blueprints displayed on the bridge table and across the room at the anomaly. He looked bored, but he’d also been sneaking peeks at the display the whole time they’d been discussing. 

“You,” she said. “Anomaly.” He looked around, lowering his foot from the seat beside his own. “What would your plan of attack be?” 

It was like she’d put a new battery into him. He bounced out of the chair, a spring in his step, and sauntered across, leaning down on his forearms on the display and taking a moment to take in all the close details. 

When Ray spoke, she raised a hand, shushing him and letting the anomaly she’d grown so fascinated by focus. 

After a few minutes, he pointed at the blueprint. “There’s a flaw in the system,” he said. “The alarm is set up to detect people entering but not exiting.” 

Sara looked across at him. “If we could get in, we wouldn’t have a problem.” 

His lips twitched in an amused smile and he looked back at her. “True,” he said, “but we don’t need to be in to exit.” When no one followed his train of thought, he sighed and swiped his fingers across the displays, pulling up information on the staff. “True, it’s a mostly contained facility and there’s not a lot of traffic, but there is this.” A woman’s face flashed up on the screen. 

“Who is that?” Ray asked. 

“That,” the anomaly said, “is the next person to take a vacation.” 

Sara frowned. “How do you know that?” 

He pulled other documents over, the ones he’d flitted through while she’d watched him study the information. She’d been so preoccupied with the furrow in his brow and the way his blue eyes sparkled, she hadn’t paid much attention to exactly what he was studying. 

A spreadsheet filled the display: named were listed, along with dates and times. The columns weren’t labelled and Sara frowned. “I don’t understand.” 

“It’s a ledger,” the anomaly said and when she looked at him he sighed again and put his finger to the top left cell, moving it along the columns as he labelled them himself. “Name, date of employ, security clearance level – we’re going to need a seven or higher for this – and then after that the date of out of house vacation.” 

“How do you know that’s what those dates are?” Sara asked, frowning. 

“They each start one week before the next,” he said, pointing. “There’s twenty-one members of staff and twenty positions.” 

“So they rotate,” Mick said, leaning against the table. 

“Exactly.” The anomaly leant back. 

“So what do we do?” Sara said. “Swipe her credentials when she leaves and enter with them?” 

The anomaly looked across at her. “Nothing so pedestrian. Plus, do you not think that a guard on vacation re-entering the high-security building might cause alarms?” 

“I suppose it might,” Sara said, more of a drawl to match his than she’d like. “So what do we do instead?” 

“One of us – probably the highly trained assassin who knows how to remain unseen – waits just outside the door and places a wedge to stop the door from closing,” he said. “We’ll have fifty-nine seconds to make it into the house before the alarms sound for the door being open too long.” 

“We can’t just go in there?” Nate said. 

The anomaly looked across at him. “We’re still going to need her credentials to access things within the house.” He gestured at the system. “The alarms aren’t hooked up to detect a card that shouldn’t be in there, because the understanding is that no one can get in with that card anyway.” 

Sara nodded. “So what’s the plan?” 

A moment passed in silence and she let it without complaint, and then the anomaly straightened up. “I’ll wait outside the gates,” he said. “I’ll walk by as she passes, pickpocket the card and meet you at the door. We’ll go in together, use your talents to avoid security within the house, and find the item. Then we leave.” 

She took a moment to look for flaws in the plan, but she had to admit he seemed to know what he was talking about. “Agreed,” she said. “We’ll go tonight.” 

He stepped away from the table. “Do you have thieves’ tools?” he asked. “Lock picks, gloves, things like that?” 

“The fabricator can create those things,” Sara said with a nod. “I’ll show you.” 

She led the way through the ship, the anomaly trailing along in her wake, and when she reached the fabricator she stopped, plugging in the request for objects rather than clothing and gesturing. “Gideon has to know what she’s creating, but after that it’s pretty simple to get what you want. You can program in your own items too.” 

He pondered the display for a moment and she watched as he collected lock picks and a variety of other tools from broken credit cards to small strips of metal and even a razorblade or two. She was sure she should want to take blades off him, but if they were going to trust him on their ship and with their heist, they had to trust him with weapons eventually. 

When he didn’t turn away from the fabricator even when he’d filled a small bag with things he needed and seemed done, she tilted her head. “What is it?” 

“Nothing,” he said, and looked over at her. When she kept her frown firmly in place he sighed. “Just something scratching at the back of my head.” He shrugged. “I’ll figure it out eventually.” 

She nodded and leant against the wall. “So theft.” 

The fractional stiffening of his spine told her what she wanted to know: she’d been right, he was the sneaky thief in the night that kept displacing their stuff, and he knew she knew it now too. “Apparently.” 

“You’re good at it,” she said. “I’m impressed.” 

“I have you know I’m excellent at it,” he said, looking over at her, smirk stuck to his mouth. “At least, I think I am.” A frown passed over his forehead and he shrugged, closing the fabricator and taking a step back. “I suppose we’ll find out tonight.” 

“I suppose we will.” She smiled at him, watching as he headed for the door, then rolled her eyes, noticing a distinct change in a small weight on her body. “Anomaly.” 

He looked around and she held her hand out towards him, palm up.  For a moment, she thought he was going to misunderstand and take it, but then he snorted under his breath and retrieved one of her ceramic knives from the front of his pants, dropping it into her palm. “I would’ve gotten away with it too, if it wasn’t for your stupid assassin senses.” 

“Keep telling yourself that,” she said with amusement in her tone, and tucked it away.