#but god dammit will wood groomed someone

[cosmicheartz]

Really can’t have fucking shit huh

[incoherentbabblings]

Tim gets himself turned into a cat for a week and is forced to stay at Stephanie's until the spell wears off on its own. Honestly, it's not as traumatic as it sounds. For Tim.

“I refuse to take responsibility,” Damian said. He was holding a glossy short haired black cat with a long face and sharp features. It had big bat ears and lovely big blue eyes whose pupils dilated when Stephanie looked at it. Damian held it out for Stephanie to take, lower legs dangling from a slim body. Its tail whipped from side to side, irritated.

Apparently, it was Tim after one ill-informed altercation with that magician villain who the Teen Titans and the Flash fought occasionally.

Stephanie smiled tightly to the point where Damian thought she was in physical pain.

“Do you want to come in? Have a cup of cocoa maybe?”

“Not even slightly. I have a litter box and some compostable wood pellets for litter,”

Oh my God –

“and father insisted that someone within Gotham care for him until this passes whilst he is off planet. Zatanna says it will end on its own in a week and is less likely to end in permanent brain damage than trying to reverse it artificially. More brain damage than Drake already –”

“Yes, Damian, I get it.” Stephanie sighed, pouting as she inspected Tim, still patiently dangling in Damian’s outstretched arms. “Do you understand us Tim?”

The cat – Tim – yowled in a way which sounded partly like a Siamese cat and partly like an car engine struggling to start, but Damian shook his head.

“No. His brain has shrunk to the size of a peanut. Apparently, he will remember nothing, which is good, all things considered.”

Stephanie frowned, then leaned down directly into the cats eyeline.

“Would you rather stay with me over Damian?” she asked it, regardless. “I guess it makes sense, mom is visiting Florida for the week…” she mused out loud, feeling supremely stupid.

Tim yowled again, and his pupils impossibly grew bigger.

Groaning, Stephanie conceded. “Fine, but –” wasting no time, Damian practically tossed the cat into her arms. She caught Tim clumsily, and he meowed in distress, scrambling up to cling to her shoulders.

“Ow, ow, ow! Claws. Claws, Tim ow!”

She held him tight under his little bum, and as she watched Damian run back to the Alfred chauffeured car for the bits and pieces she would need. Stephanie turned, leaving the front door open, and went upstairs to her room. Tim clung to her tightly, little claws making an imprint in her skin. When she reached her bed she leaned forward, letting him turn on his own and land on his feet in the centre of the mattress. He plopped down, sitting perfectly straight with his tail still swishing, and watched her as she proceeded to help Damian move all the pieces of kit inside. She placed the litter tray in the bathroom, wondering briefly about those YouTube videos she’d seen of cats using the toilet could be applicable. She sighed as she sat the plastic tray down, wiggling little wood pellets a couple of inches deep. Tim had come over to join her in the door frame. He looked up at her, and she looked down at him.

“Tim, I’m going to be scooping up your poo and pee. You better give me a big boon when this all over.”

Tim mewled, and to Stephanie it sounded like a bargain had been struck. Damian handed her a plastic bag filled with cat food – whatever Pennyworth did not wish to eat he explained – then left her to it.

“Do not let him go outside.”

“Yes, Damian.”

His round cheeks puffed up, and the bridge of his nose turned red like it did when he was embarrassed.

“Thank you, Stephanie.”

Somewhat mollified, Stephanie said he was welcome and then Damian and Alfred were gone. Shutting the front door, she turned around to see Tim sitting on the stairs, watching her.

Stephanie jumped, unnerved.

“How much of your peanut sized brain is like… at human level smartness?” she asked.

Tim sat quietly for a moment, watching her with those unnatural icy blue eyes. His tail, disproportionately long, smacked against the floor with a heavy thump.

“None then. Well, still, let me know when you want feeding. Or bathroom breaks so I can clean it up before it stinks out the house. I have to work on college. So… go take a nap or something. You probably need one.”

Tim blinked, stepped down the stairs, went through to the living room, sat on her sofa, and rested his head down. Like the cat he was, he was soon asleep in the late afternoon sun.

Stephanie followed him curiously, peered over the back of the couch, admiring his glossy coat then shook her limbs loose.

Just another day in the life, she told herself.

Having her ex-boyfriend slash transmogrified cat living with her for a week. Sure. Cats were distant creatures, and so were her and Tim in recent years. They could get through this week, surely.

Oddly, having another creature in the house made her feel more lonely.

 *****

 Tim had enough self-awareness to realise he was in fact a cat, but also not enough self-awareness to realise that there were certain behaviours he should not indulge in.

Nobody believed him that he could understand what was being said, so he decided to just go with the flow for the next six days. Abdicate all responsibility. Be feral. Receive the occasional pat on the head. All in good fun. Bizarrely, he was enjoying the drama of it all.

The first issue came about at dinner. He had woken from his nap with a hunger that he had never in his eighteen years (did that make him around two years old in cat years?) of life felt before. It was as if he had not eaten in weeks he was starving he was voracious he –

Needed help in opening tin cans.

Dammit.

Honestly, Tim would have been feeling much more humiliated and more willing to jump out of a window to end it all if he was not so sure that he would instinctively land on his feet.

Just a week. And Stephanie would take care of him, loathe as he was to admit it. She would find it uncomfortable and painful with each interaction, so he would take great care in staying out of her way. Things were awkward enough between them without the knowledge that she was going to have to brush him and feed him and clean up his poops and hairballs (he loathed how easily the concept of grooming came to him). He didn’t need to inflict anymore grief on her than she had already reluctantly accepted.

None of this stopped him from being very hungry when he woke up. He needed food. Preferably ten minutes ago.

He leapt down with a solid thud from Stephanie’s sofa, shaking his head to clear any remaining nap time fuzziness, then plodded upstairs. To his own ears, it sounded very cheery.

She had left her bedroom door slightly ajar, and Tim slid in. She did not hear him enter on account of her having a giant pair of red headphones blasting music at far too loud a volume to be good for her hearing. Or rather, he assumed they were red. He knew, somewhere in the back of his mind, that his vision had been altered. Shades of red and green blended together in assorted shades of yellow and brown, and even the blues of the world was washed out and pale. Everything had a slight blur to it, especially for objects further away. When he had first been held up to Stephanie, he realised that the blue of her eyes now seemed almost grey, and her skin was sickly. Of this change, Tim hated the most.

She was leaning over piles of notes, hands stained with highlighter and pen ink. Tim noted her expression and found he did not like it.

She looked very sad.

He meowed to try and get her attention, but with her music playing as loud as it was, she did not hear him. Drastic measures were needed. He would soon be dead from starvation before too long.

He slinked up to the side of her chair, noting the convenient space between her lap, chest and desk. He looked up at her, yowling one more time to try and give her warning, but she did not notice.

Tim blinked slowly. Her eyes were wet.

He leapt up onto her lap, fully expecting her to shriek, to lift and throw him across the room reflexively. However, she just gasped gently, surprise quickly fading, and laughed. Good. The wet look in her eyes vanished with genuine joy. She paused her music, clumsily taking off the headphones and setting them on the desk. She adjusted her lap so Tim could sit more steadily and rested her hands at the base of his back and tail, scratching absentmindedly. He chittered at her and she raised her eyebrows expectantly.

“What?” she whispered conspiratorially. Oh, she was enjoying this. Tim grumbled, body vibrating, then hopped up another level onto her desk. With a purposeful tap, he smacked her wrist.

“What is it you little goblin?”

Rude. Tim yowled, and paced back and forth. Stephanie huffed, reaching to pick him up and put him down. When she turned, she saw her alarm clock on her bedside table. It was six o’clock.

“The time?” Her eyes widened with realisation. “Oh? Dinner time?”

His loud, drawn out meow made her wince, but she nodded all the same. “Alright then sir, come on. Let’s see what we can do for you.”

He merrily leapt down from her arms, jogging away down the stairs to the kitchen. Jumping up on the counter, he pawed insistently at the food still in the plastic bags Damian had brought. Food. He needed food. He was wasting away; why couldn’t she see…

“Right, what did Damian gift us with… Oh. Biscuits huh?”

Tim froze. Cat food. He was going to have to eat cat food.

He was a cat. But not that much. He was finding it difficult enough to imagine going in that litter box in not too long. He quietly made a little meow, distressed.

Stephanie opened the bag, and the smell of dry crunchy biscuits filled the air. Tim visibly gagged, and Stephanie quickly resealed the container.

“Yeah, I agree there Timbo. I can’t give you the wet food either, that jelly is disgusting... but your stomach can’t handle human stuff. You’re a carnivore now bud.”

She hemmed and hawed, opening assorted cupboards, looking for something suitable. Tim meowed mournfully. He was going to starve unless he ate the biscuits, but he so did not want to eat the biscuits.

“Oh!” Stephanie chirped, pulling a tin down. She held it up to him for inspection. “Tuna in spring water. That’ll do, right? But how much…”

Tim paced frantically back and forth as she googled portion sizes. Starving, starving, he was skin and bones, no chance for recovery. It had been eight hours since he last ate, how did she expect him to –

She placed a shallow dish in front of him, half of the can placed sweetly in front of him. She then placed down a small glass bowl, filled with fresh water. Uncaring of his dignity, he began to eat voraciously.

Stephanie leaned on the counter, watching him do so.

“I’m sorry there’s no milk. I heard cats are actually lactose intolerant, so just water for you this week.”

Tim ignored her, so delighted with the taste of fresh tuna that the lack of milk was so far down his list of priorities. It was only when Stephanie, in an apparent act of madness, reached down and ran a hand from his temple all the way along his back to the tip of his tail did he look up. Somewhere in the back of his little kitty brain, he noted that his muscles had tensed up, rising to the pressure of her hand as it made its way down his spine to make the contact firmer. Her hand was warm. He looked up from his feast, confused.

She was still smiling, but it looked melancholy to Tim.

“I don’t think you can actually understand me,” she said quietly, half speaking to herself. “Which is pretty expected for us. I think it’s just the fact that you’re a vocal kitty who isn’t going to remember anything in six days’ time. Which is just as well. I can tell you all my secrets then?”

Tim wanted to protest her falsehoods but found the taste of tuna too distracting.

Stephanie continued, “I’m going to go on patrol now. There’s been a monster of a case I’m getting nowhere with. I’m having another go tonight. Don’t sleep on my bed when I’m away okay?”

Tim wanted very much to yowl, to let her know that he could understand, and to ask her why she was being so mopey. It seemed more than just a sadness over his situation. He wanted to explain that, honestly, he was fine with it. Well, not fine. But he had endured much worse. He knew it was temporary, he knew things would return to normal soon, and he was warm, looked after and almost looking forward to a week’s peace.

So what if he was a slightly goofy looking black cat who had the sudden urge to lick himself clean every few minutes? In the grand scheme of trauma he had undergone in his short life, shitting in a box was pretty low on the list.

He tried to tell her it was fine, only to drop tuna all over the counter. In a fumbled attempt to clean up after himself, he licked the surface clean. Stephanie groaned, then rose away from him.

“Enjoy the evening Tim. Don’t bother me when I get back. Don’t puke anywhere.”

Tim, in fact, did not puke that night. He did use the litter box however and hated it. He tried very hard to make as little mess as possible, ensuring all the litter stayed within the box. He was here because of Stephanie’s good nature; he was not about to blow it.

He did, at around 3am, however, experience what he had heard Selina refer to as ‘the zoomies’. It was a frantic pent-up energy that he did not know how to expel. The only way that came to mind was to dash across the house in a desperate attempt to tire himself out so he could return to sleep. So, he ran, up and down the stairs, leaping off the banisters and hopping over chairs and coffee tables. He did so, bored out of his mind, until he saw the lights of her vehicle pull up. He ran up the stairs in time for Batgirl to crawl through her window. He sat patiently in her doorway, waiting for the right moment to greet her, when he saw she collapsed to the floor with a distinctive and heartrending cry of pain. His little heart pounded painfully at the sound, but he did not move.

He watched as she cursed up a storm, correcting her position so she could take off her costume piece by piece. She did so wincing, crying out, and swearing with each painful movement. If she had someone to help her, she would have been able to get ready for bed in much less agony. Whatever she had dealt with this night, it had been rough.

She crawled around on the floor, apparently unable to walk now that the adrenaline had worn off. She remained in her shorts and sports bra, and without showering, crawled into bed. Tim watched as she reached into her bedside table, pulled out two painkillers, and like a baby, swallowed them with some water from a sports bottle that stood nearby.

He thought he heard her very quietly cry to herself, but that couldn’t be. Stephanie did not cry. His hearing had been different since the transformation last night, sounds and noises did not compute the way they used to. The sound she was making very quickly stopped though, and instead Tim heard her very determinedly whisper to herself,

“Always better in the morning.”

It wasn’t a philosophy he completely agreed with. Sometimes the morning just brought clarity of the previous day’s horror. But her odd breathing stopped, and soon it was replaced with the deep gentle snoring of someone sleeping. Finally, Tim moved. He wanted to curl up next to her. Stephanie was warm, and he had discovered recently that he liked warm places. He wanted her hand to stroke him again.

But no. She had said to stay off her bed for sleeping. She has asked him not to bother her. She certainly would not be happy to find him sleeping next to her. Tim tried to remind himself that he was only getting away with certain behaviours because of his size, and there were some boundaries that he should not cross. What if she woke up in the morning, only to find that the spell had worn off early, and there was a naked human Tim Drake in her bed?

Oh no. That would be very embarrassing.

Besides, he didn’t have that kind of relationship with her anymore. He didn’t have the right anymore to insert himself into her space. They had decided not to pursue it. Not good for her, she’d said.

Tim could no longer remember his own reason. He suspected it was moot after she had become Batgirl.

And yet… she’d been crying. Tim wanted to help her. How could that not be good? Surely if he could provide comfort, if he wanted to provide comfort, she would allow it?

He turned away, not liking the way it felt like turning away from someone calling for help and returned to the living room sofa. He curled into a ball, and slept until the morning, whereupon the hunger pains hit him once more.

And so, a routine began. Tim would yowl like he was dying outside Stephanie’s door, reluctant to intrude whilst she slept. Eventually, Stephanie would emerge, ready to feed him chicken or another half a tin of tuna. He was not so secretly delighted at the way her eyes lit up with humour when she saw him, spinning in circles unable to contain his excitement, though Tim would note locations of bruises that had not been there the night before. She was struggling, it seemed.

She would then go take a shower, clean out his litter tray with a pithy comment, then go to class, leaving Tim bored until she would return after four, ready to clean his litter tray once more, provide dinner, then spend a couple of hours doing homework before leaving again for patrol. She would return at first light, looking more defeated with each passing sunrise. She would be smiling come the morning, but – even with a brain the size of a monkey nut – Tim saw it was shallow.

It did not escape Tim’s notice that she was going out of her way to avoid him. He understood it. She did the same thing when he was human. He would call for her help from time to time with a case, which she gave without reservation, just as she had done now for kitty him, but rarely, if ever, did she call for his aid.

Her stubborn independent streak had not abated with time it seemed, even when it came at the price of her safety.

That and she just seemed sadder than usual. Or was this usual, and he was just never around and allowed to view it?

His tiny mind whirled and churned, and with no outlet, he stewed, glaring out the window at passer-by’s and their dogs.

Regardless, on the fifth night, after hearing her stilted heart-rending sobs and half-hearted and self-inflicted words of comfort, he decided to break the one boundary she had set.

He jumped up onto the bed, moving until he had clambered on her sternum, then folded down into a loaf position. Stephanie tensed, unsure what game he was playing, until she felt him begin to purr.

She laughed brokenly, more of a whimper than a genuine expression of joy and reached up to scratch behind his ears.

Tim purred louder, to her delight.

“I’m having a bit of a rough time,” she spoke quietly in the dark, as if reluctant to break the thick, dark blanket of warmth and comfort. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t want to be a burden.”

Tim gave a small ripple of a meow in response. She was not a burden.

“I can’t get a crack on this case,” she explained. “I make a dent, get hurt in a fight and am fine in the morning, but then so are they. I’ve hit a wall. But I have to do it alone. Bruce and Babs expect me to now… I have to…”

Her voice broke and she cut herself off. She smiled crookedly, painfully trying to dispel her sadness. Tim began to make biscuits. He didn’t understand why, but he thought the pressure would help. She was a little furnace beneath him, and he purred loudly, drowning out her shaky breathing.

Stephanie chuckled at the sensation of his little vibrating chest. She ran a hand down his back again, enjoying the smooth coat. Contradictorily once more her eyes became wet.

“Do you think, when you are back to normal, we could talk? There’s…there’s no-one else who would understand. Though I think I’d make Cass sad if I told her that. But I miss you. And I think it’s my fault.”

Tim shifted upwards, until his nose rested under her chin. He continued to purr loudly, nearly trilling with the force of it. Steph nuzzled in close and kissed his forehead and flicked his large ears.

“Silly boy. I hope you don’t remember this. You’d hate me for it.”

Tim meowed grouchily. How she could lie to herself like that…

They’d burned their bridge long ago. He knew this. And him being a cat for a week was not going to mend it. But it made his heart ache like nothing else to see her despondent. He silently promised himself that he would extend an olive branch before the end of next week. They couldn’t continue like this, tip toeing around each other with Tim occasionally stepping too close and making Steph flinch back away.

She wasn’t flinching away now though.

She picked him up so she could sleep better and set him on the pillow next to her. Turning on her side, she reached up and placed a soft, warm hand on his shoulders, rhythmically petting the fur there.

Her quiet sniffles died off, Tim’s purring acting as a lullaby, and she fell asleep before the sun rose.

Throughout the night he shifted closer, until he was practically resting on her head. He rested his chin on the crown of her head, her long golden hair acting like a silken pillow, and kept guard for the rest of the night.

 *****

 Stephanie awoke to her nose being licked. She opened her eyes blearily, and realised it was Tim cat. She blushed, remembering what had transpired last night. She told herself it was fine, opening up like that. It was only a cat. It was only Tim. Tim, who would be blissfully ignorant come the evening. Though that reminded her, she better lay out some clothes for him. Her mother was coming back at some point in the next forty-eight hours. The idea of her walking in on a naked Tim would cause a conniption.

She smooched Tim’s head, and he meowed cheerily at the wet smack, and continued to press up against her.

She had kept her distance at first, struggling to reconcile Tim with the little sleek gremlin cat meowing at her feet. It felt weird, so she – for a lack of a better term – ignored him. He would be so angry when he changed back, she wanted to avoid anything which he could extrapolate from the week as her being mocking or patronising.

Bruce’s anger she had learned to ignore, Tim’s she hadn’t figured out a knack for yet. It hurt, in a physical manner that she could not explain. Like he was kicking her in the gut again. She found herself actively taking steps now to avoid it. Avoid the concept of it.

But she was exhausted, physically, and emotionally. Years ago, when she would reach such a state, Tim would somehow figure it out and slink in through her window or take her on a quiet date. The two would hold on to each other, and let Stephanie catch her breath and perspective with a warm pillar of support behind her.  

Despite Tim now being a cat, it seemed he still had this perception, and had sought her out to give comfort. Weird how animals could sense those sorts of things.

Fuck it, she thought. It was the last day, she was feeling miserable, and there was a perfectly cuddly vibrating fluff ball in her arms, who showed no signs of irritation and instead was offering comfort that she didn’t get much of in recent years. She was going to milk this for all it was worth. Maybe she could take some photos and videos later – humiliate or blackmail Tim later. All in good fun, of course. She never wanted to genuinely upset him.

She continued to give him sweet pecks on his head back and sides, which she thought he liked, as he meowed and headbutted her.

“Sweetie,” she praised, and she picked him up to cradle him properly. He flipped over, being held like a baby, as she continued to croon, “Last day as a kitty. Tomorrow you won’t remember a thing, and we won’t be able to talk like I am now… isn’t that sad? I think we should spoil you today. Lap of luxury and all that. It’ll keep my brain busy, if nothing else.”

He pawed at her chin, and she kissed his toe beans.

She spent an embarrassingly long amount of the day starfished on the floor, playing with Tim. He was a chatty little cat, more so than he ever was as a person. His meows sounded like a revving engine and were as long as he could hold his breath. He was graceful though, despite his lanky limbs and giant ears. He leapt from surface to surface and straight into her arms with seemingly no effort, and whenever she let him roll out of her embrace, he landed neatly on his feet every single time.

Stephanie couldn’t help it, but when she pulled out a little laser from her Batgirl belt, she recorded Tim’s feral delight, chasing a speck of red across the house. She laughed more than she had in a long while, partly because it had been so long since she had seen anything so unabashedly goofy as Tim as a cat, shaking his little bum, pupils dilated larger than dinner plates, in preparation to jump a red point of light.

It was delightful and made her wonder if she could convince Crystal to adopt a cat once she returned. Poor Tim, he’d have no clue what he’d endured come the morning, but at least in that moment, he seemed happy.

When it reached eight pm, Stephanie sighed, realising she had another night of patrol to face. Selfishly, she wanted to linger, to keep company with the cat, but she quickly shook that thought off. People needed her. She wanted her case over and done with.

“One last go,” she whispered. “I can do it tonight. I’m nearly there.”

Tim hopped up onto her lap and she was sliding on her gloves. She chuckled lightly and scratched under his chin. He purred, craning his neck to allow her better access.

“I’ll lay your human clothes out for you on my bed, okay? If it’s not fixed by the time I’m back… I’ll put you in your boxers and jeans and hopefully come morning…” She got up, hoisting Tim to rest on her shoulders, and tugged one of the plastic bags Damian had left for her. To her growing dismay, she realised there was only a pair of underpants. She looked sideways, Tim peering over her left shoulder. “Oh dear, Tim. Damian really is out to get you, huh?”

He chuffed, like he was grumbling to himself. She pecked him once more, and he meowed more firmly, hopping off her shoulders as she made her way to rummage through her wardrobe.

“I don’t want my mom to come back and find you in your undies in my room and me being AWOL. That would just be one step too much for her, I think. I still have some baggy sweatshirts…pants though… pants…”

She tossed clothes haphazardly, at one point burying Tim under a pile of bras and underpants that she shrieked at, loudly and joyously, when she realised what she had done. Eventually she found a pair of jeggings which she hoped would suffice. Tim looked almost suspicious. If he had eyebrows, they would have been raised.

“You have skinny legs,” Stephanie justified, feeling insane talking to the cat. “It’s fine. Just until the morning. I’ll drive you back and no-one will see your shame. Not even Damian. We’ll sneak. Promise.”

She carefully laid out the clothes, and shoved what she had carelessly tossed out her closet back in with equal zeal. Pecking Tim once more on the head, she moved the litter box into her bedroom and shut the door.

“I can’t have mom coming back to a half naked boy in my living room and a box of used kitty litter. You’ll have to stay in here. Hopefully, I’ll be back before she is. She said she’ll drive the whole way and not stop. So, maybe by seven in the morning? Fingers crossed.”

She opened up the windowsill, slinking her leg over. Tim hopped up on her desk, as if to follow her out.

“Uh-uh,” she warned, pressing on his wet nose firmly. “You have to wait here. Damian made me promise you’d stay inside. I can’t risk losing you.”

She caught herself speaking more desperately than she intended and shuddered. “You know what I mean. Naked boy CEO found running through the streets of Gotham is not the kind of attention the family needs right now. Be good, Tim. And thank you. You cheered me up so much today.”

One more kiss, then she was out the window, sliding it definitively shut. As she mounted the bike, Tim perched himself at the windowsill, watching her shoot off down the street.

When she was out of sight, he jumped down and paced endlessly, stressed and worried. She had been struggling so much with patrol, and he was unable to help her. Feeling utterly helpless, he jumped up onto her bed and settled on her main pillow. Curling up into a ball, he settled in to wait, praying that she would return home safely, and before Crystal arrived back.

He awoke, briefly, when he felt a soft pair of hands lifting him up. He chirped and chuffed, and it was Stephanie hushing him. She wrapped him up in his boxers and sat him next to her under the covers.

She was smiling, albeit a tired smile.

“I did it,” she whispered, scratching his ears. “Tim, I did it.”

Tim meowed a congratulatory chitter, and Stephanie smiled wider.

“Sleep now. I’ll explain more in the morning.”

In an act which utterly took Tim off guard, she pulled him closer, curling around him in a crescent moon shape. Under the covers in the dark, surrounded by her scent and soft breath, Tim began to purr once more.

 *****

 “Steph? Steph…”

Stephanie grumbled, then opened her eyes when cold fingertips pressed against her cheek. Looking at him with an expression Tim could not decipher (relief? Disappointment? Fright?) Stephanie inspected Tim up and down. He had put on his boxers and her sweatshirt but had yet to touch her trousers. Nevermind. He was kneeling on the floor next to her bed. According to her clock, it was just after six in the morning.

Right, Tim needed context.

“I suppose you are very confused right now… Being in my room in your undies… so let me explain—”

She yawned then, arms emerging from her duvet to stretch dramatically. Tim watched the muscles in her neck, then chuckled to himself.

“No, Steph. I remember.”

“Oop.” She froze, watching him anxiously, like an antelope faced with a lion. “Everything?”

“Everything.” He then snorted defiantly, “despite what Damian insisted, I was still me. Shockingly, he is not omnipotent.”

Chewing her tongue, Stephanie narrowed her eyes, not having it at all.

“Oh c’mon, you are lying out your butt.”

“Am not.”

“Are too! There’s no way you’d lower yourself to chasing my laser pen across my living room. Oh gosh, Tim, it must have been horrible…”

Tim shrugged, making a noncommittal noise.

“Maybe I wanted to catch that point of light, huh?” he teased. He then conceded, “Maybe I had a bit of trouble keeping cat me and human me straight in my head.”

“Yeah, that I believe.”

“But honestly, having a week where my biggest concern was whether I was getting tuna or chicken for my next meal was sort of refreshing.”

“I can find a way to turn you back if you like.”

“Hmm. Pass.”

Stephanie giggled, but cut off abruptly when Tim shuffled closer. She felt herself grow cross eyed as she watched him move in so intimately. Tim’s warm breath blew over her as he continued,

“Yeah well, having said that… You mentioned that I helped you. Cheered you up.”

Tim’s teasing look softened, and in that moment looked at Stephanie with such unabashed and unfiltered affection that she felt incredibly self-conscious. Tim was only in his boxers and her sweatshirt, and she was only in a baggy nightgown that she had tossed on when she had arrived home; the first time in weeks she had been uninjured enough to change her clothes.

“Maybe,” Tim continued, “I wanted to see you smile. You were so sad all this week… I needed to help you. Even if it was as dumb as chin scratches – as good as they felt – and chasing lasers. I… I heard you crying, Steph.”

Her arms came down from their stretch, and rested on his shoulders, fingers gently stroking back and forth.

“I’m okay,” she promised, like she was the one comforting him.

Tim’s eyebrows furrowed. “I could have helped you before now.”

There was no chiding in his tone, only pleading, but it made Stephanie feel guilty, nonetheless.

“I had to do it alone.”

“No, no you didn’t. You don’t have to be alone for anything.”

“You’re such a big softie.”

Tim laughed gently, “With you, sure.” Taking a deep breath, he moved even closer until he was practically leaning over her, tips of their noses touching. “Steph… I need to ask you something.”

Stephanie nodded, eyes growing damp. “Shoot,” she whispered, voice cracking and betraying the nonchalant words.

“Could we –”

Crystal opened Stephanie’s bedroom door, and the pair froze. Instinctively, Stephanie raised an arm with a shocked cry, slamming Tim in the face. He wheezed and shot up into standing, which only proved to give Crystal a good view of him in his underwear and daughter’s clothes. Looking somewhat dazed and yet unsurprised, she looked to Stephanie for whatever lie of an excuse her daughter could conjure up.

“Mommy!” Steph cried out. “I did not hear you get back. How was Florida?”

“I was being quiet since it was still early,” Crystal grumbled, unamused by Stephanie’s glib tone. “But then I heard talking.”

Crystal glared at Tim, who fidgeted, finding no dignity in any pose he maintained. Stephanie scrambled upwards so she was sitting, thankfully she had managed to put on pyjamas last night, and clambered for some excuse, any excuse.

“Tim was… It’s not… ”

Seeing her daughter fail to come up with some vaguely plausible non incriminating reasoning, Crystal turned to Tim, glaring holes through his head. He would crack in a way that Stephanie would not.

“Why are you here, Tim?” she demanded.

“I… I…” Tim began to shiver with nerves, face flushed red and eyes bright with panic.

“Where are your pants?”

Tim choked on air. “…I don’t have any. With me.”

“And no shirt either?”

Tim very much wished the ground would swallow him up.

“No.”

Stephanie groaned, throwing herself face down into her pillow. “Good job, Tim.”

“It’s the truth, Stephanie!”

Crystal’s fingers twitched on the door handle, and Stephanie could see one of her pressure headaches building, like a throbbing in her mother’s temple.

“You know what – just leave Tim. And we won’t discuss it again.”

Tim would take that and run. At least this time he wasn’t being chased out of a house with a shotgun like Ariana’s uncle had done.

“Sure. Sure. Can… Steph. Can I borrow your phone?”

“So someone can come pick you up?” Crystal snorted. “What? Don’t you have shoes either?”

Tim realised if Crystal had her way he would have been forced to run back to the manor. Death at this point really would have been preferable. Weakly, he just stated, “No, Mrs. Brown.”

Stephanie spoke at her mother and into her pillow, unable to look the embarrassing situation in the eye.

“Mom, please. The guy’s dignity has already been shot. Please don’t make him walk back to Wayne Manor in his tidey-wideys. I can give you a lift Tim, I said I would.”

“No, no,” Crystal insisted. “I’m sure you’ve done enough Stephanie.”

Stephanie shrieked, muffled but distressed. Dramatically, with exaggerated movements, she removed her phone form under her pillow and unlocked it without looking, then tossed it up the air. Tim scrambled to catch it, then dialled for the manor. Crystal stood aside, indicating it was time for Tim to leave the room. He looked back to Stephanie, still buried in her bed sheets. It was a look of desperation on his features that made Crystal feel almost guilty for separating the pair, but honestly, she did not trust her daughter, and she did not trust Tim, however soft spoken he may have been.

When Tim exited the room, Crystal shut the door with a definitive slam behind him. Turning back to Stephanie, she saw her daughter’s shoulders shaking with quiet crying. This only served to befuddle Crystal more, but before she could say or do anything else, a shallow container on the floor by her daughter’s desk caught her eye.

“Is that a litter tray?” she asked, confusion reaching fever pitch.

Stephanie raised her head to stare at her mother, eyes wet and pout overwhelmingly sad.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you the truth.”

 *****

 “Alfred washed it. Got rid of all the cat hairs.”

Tim held up the blue sweater for Stephanie to take on her doorstep. She took it reverently and inhaled deep. Alfred always used an excess of fabric conditioner that made clothes smell lush. Tim, for his part, looked apologetic.

“I’m sorry you got drawn into all of that. I’m sorry I made you and your mom fall out.”

Stephanie said nothing, keeping Tim on the doorstep as she set down the sweatshirt. When she looked back to Tim, closing the front door behind her, she was struck by the thought that he seemed much younger than eighteen. He was scuffing his feet on the concrete, hands behind his back, like a bashful child.

“It was all because I was careless with Abra Kadabra and it bit me in the butt and Damian didn’t want to have to deal with me so he burdened you with it. I’m sorry.”

“It wasn’t a burden,” she replied quietly. “I liked it. The last day.”

“Oh,” Tim blushed, looking anywhere but in her eye. “Me too. For what it’s worth. Honestly, it was actually really nice. Relatively. In context. You know. In a not creepy way.”

“It must have been a bit weird. Like, don’t pretend it wasn’t. All that chicken and tuna you ate for one thing…”

Tim chuckled to himself, finding something very funny.

“Yeah my digestion has been wild the past week and... too much information. Sorry.”

Stephanie tried to catch his eye, but Tim kept his head stubbornly down. His feet must have been very interesting.

“You… you were going to ask me something, before my mom walked in,” she pushed.

He coughed, choking on nothing but his nerves.

“Was I?”

“Tim.” She reached out and took his hand. Tim flinched, then relaxed and finally gathered the courage to look her in the eye. She smiled, beautifully, always beautifully, and he squeezed her fingers.

“I’m sorry if it took me being turned into a cat to actually ask.”

“That’s okay. It happens for people like us. In a way I think it puts things into perspective. So, please ask.”

“You…” 

He stared at her, admiring her, before finding words couldn’t do the job well enough. Instead, he leaned forward, meeting Stephanie who was also moving closer, and the two kissed on Stephanie’s front doorstep. She broke away with such a delighted laugh that Tim chuckled himself.

“Ask me,” she insisted.

Tim shook his head and kissed her again. Falling back against her front door, the two made out for a moment too long before Stephanie regained her senses. She pushed him back, laughing louder and more hysterically.

“Tim! No! You need to ask!”

Another kiss, this time accompanied by him picking her up and swinging her in a circle. Finally, Stephanie gave up and held him tight. Tim made a noise that she could only describe as a chirp of delight in response.

“You’re a little gremlin,” she muttered into his mouth. “Cat or otherwise.”

[bettercallsabs]

The Groom to Be 3.

A/N: because I adore so many of you dearly, I’m sucking it up and posting. As usual, unedited bs. I have some fun things I’ve been working on as well, so stay tuned! But without further ado, I bring you part 3.

Series Masterlist//Thee Masterlist

Engaged!SteveRogers x WeddingPlanner!PlusSized!Reader

Warnings: swears, internal conflict, wineeee

Word count: shortish.

Steve rested against the chilled brick wall, in the hallway of y/n’s loft. The sound of his heart pounding in his ears as he tried to focus. He couldn’t think straight. Every thought that seemed to pass through his mind was... irrational. He had no idea what had come over him. When he was close to y/n, her eyes wide as she looked up at him, it made his head go fuzzy. In that moment, he wanted to pull her into his arms- just to feel the warmth of her body against his. the feel of her curves in his hands. The taste of her soft lips on his. How could he be so drawn to someone he’s known for so little?  He never felt this way about Larissa- and Steve knew he cared for her, but his feelings for Larissa were nothing in comparison to Y/N. Every time she looked at him, his heart felt as though it skipped a beat. The flutters in his stomach only ceasing when he was far from her sight. He’d get the attraction from the moment he laid eyes on her- although Steve wouldn’t consider himself a hopeless romantic, he did believe in knowing love when you see it, what he thought to have had with Larissa until the day he met Y/N. 

Steve rustled his hands through his grown out golden locks, down to his shaggy unkept beard. Why could he get her out of his head! Steve reaches into his pocket, pulling his phone out, Steve’s thumb hovered over the contact labeled Buck. Bucky was a ladies man, far more experience with women than Steve could ever dream of,But so was Sam. Although, Sam might encouraged him to do the wrong thing-he wasn’t a fan of Larissa, and he reminded Steve of that every chance he got. Steve, after a brief consideration hit the call button, the phone failing out Bucky. “Why are you calling at such an ungodly hour?” Bucky groaned dramatically, as he answered the phone. “Buck, what are you talking about? You’re a night owl. I’m sort of in a predicament. I did something stupid.” “Where are you? What’s going on?” Bucky’s voice was attentive and laced with worry. “I’m at y/n’s loft.” “Wait what? Why?” Bucky must have been lying in bed, the sound of him shuffling from beneath the sheets echoed into the phone.

“I don’t know. I knew I offended her earlier today, in her office. The way she looked at me, that look in her eyes-“  Steve shook his head, his heart feeling heavy as he thought back to that afternoon on the sofa of her office. The way she looked at him, her vulnerable eyes full of hurt, it reminded him of how he often felt before he became captain America, and he felt completely and utterly disgusted that he could have ever made anyone feel such a way. “I could see the pain she felt when she looked at me. It was awful. I could just leave things like that, my conscience couldn’t take that kind of guilt.” “Okay... so what is going on then?” “Well, when I got here, she was making dinner- and by god buck, it was amazing. I haven’t had a home cooked meal like that in over 50 years. She’s amazing…” The words slipped from Steve’s mouth- like water rushing from a burst dam- before he had a chance to stop them. “So you have feelings for her then?” Bucky’s tone was rigged as he sighed into the phone. Steve glowered, to to reluctant to speak. He was a committed man, one engaged to be married in just a few months. Steve felt a raging battle of internal conflict of his morals. He wasn’t a man that would stray- he had classic morals, he was a one kind of woman man… making him ponder if he was in fact with the right woman. They sat in silence for a minute, the air thick with tension of unsaid opinions- even though they  weren’t even in the same room, neither of them knowing what to say, or how to say it. “Clearly you like her Steve…” Bucky sighed a deep sigh into the phone once again, as he continued to speak, his tone anything but amused. “You should just finish apologizing and get the hell out of the there. The quicker the better. And I’m only encouraging you to apologize, because I don’t want you to hate yourself later.”  Steve ran his fingers through his scruffy beard, with an over exaggerated exhale of air, he heaved himself from the wall, Shaking out his nerves.

Be calm, be cool. You’re just going to apologize and go home. This isn’t rocket science. You’ve got this.

Steve gave himself a pep talk, feeling like a complete imbecile for feeling so anxious. It wasn’t like this was the first time he had ever spoken to y/n. He’d spent weeks alone with her, just talking. This was just like those times. Steve took one last deep breath, exhaling as he knocked on y/n’s door once again.

Reader POV You sat at the table in awe, racking your brain to try and come up with some sort of explanation to explain what had just happened. You were still trying to process the fact the Steve Rogers was in your home, sitting at your dinner table, sharing a home cooked meal with you, and now you were just adding onto the confusion… why did he run out like that? Was it something you had said? Because you honestly didn’t recall saying much. And what the hell was he apologizing for? For the whole touching ordeal? Oh god, was that why he was here… shit. You hoped he would have forgotten about that. You felt your body growing in warmth, as bubbles tickled at your tummy. As much as you wanted it to be because of the wine, you knew it was your nerves-although, you were sure the wine wasn’t helping one bit, only adding to your flustered state. But a part of you felt sort of.. flattered, that he came all this way for you- 

OH FUCKING HELL! Enough Y/N! He is engaged!!! And he is your client, You’re the freaking wedding planner. 

The irony of the situation seemed overly chaotic. But you couldn’t help who you have feelings for right? That’s out of your control, right? You couldn’t help that the past couple of weeks with Steve had felt so right. The two of you just melded well. His friends Throwing your hands up in defeat, you dramatically shook your balled fists in the air. You stood from your seat at the table, empty wine glass-just a drop of wine left that swooshed around the open glass as you walked. You set the glass onto the hard solid surface of your countertop, exhaling heavily as you poured another glass. You leaned your lower back against the counter, breathing in the crips but earthy scent tickling at your nose, as you took an exaggerated sip. You just wanted life to be normal again. You liked when it was just you and work. No feelings. Things were far less complicated that way. A soft knock at the door pulled you from the endless ramblings of your mind. Who could that be? Maybe your neighbor was in a drunken state and unable to  unlock the door, yet again. But wishful thinking kicked in, sending your mind on the most ridiculous of thoughts, that it would be Steve, coming to whisk you off your feet like a corny Hallmark romance, that you loved so much. Ha. You scuffed to yourself as you shambled over to the door-the sound of the pad of your slippers scrapping over the wood floor- pushing the unrealistic fantasy to the deep dark depths of your brain. You didn’t even bother peering through the peep hole, as you swung the door open without hesitation. “Dammit Jackie, I thought we-“ you cut yourself off mid sentence, seeing that it wasn’t Jackie behind the door, no, it was tall, dark and handsome blue eyed dream, Steve. You took in a sharp breath, your body rippling in a sudden heat. Steve was still here? You were sure he had run off to god knows where. You couldn’t help but stare at him, noticing a dangerous glint in his eye, a look you’d never seen before. “Steve? What are you-“ before you could finish , his hands clasped at your cheeks pulling you into him, as his mouth came crashing down against yours. You were completely shocked, to say the least. the flesh of his lips felt  silky smooth against, as he lips moved in time with yours. His kisses were ravenous yet delicate. As he kissed you, it felt as though all your worries had been vanquished. His strong hands fell from your cheeks- leaving a trail of cold in their wake-opting for your waist as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you deeper into the kiss. Your arms almost instinctively found their way around his shoulders, pulling yourself closer into him. The feel of  his flexed shoulders shoulders, sending glorious shivers through your body. -You hadn’t been kissed like this in years...well ever.- Your hand trailed deviously up he length of Steve’s neck, finding the beginning of his hairline. His luxuriant locks, were soft to the touch and unbelievably silky. Your fingers found themselves intertwined in it. It was so silky, far more than you thought possible. Perfect, just like him.

When Steve’s lips broke from yours, the rush of air stung at the raw flush of your lips and chin. Steve’s wild beard had down a number on you.

The two of you stood in the hallway of your lofted apartment, panting loudly, like dogs in the hot los Vegas heat, your heart echoing loudly in your ear like the pounding of a drum.

Your eyes met his, ambivalently. You couldn’t conjure a single word, as you stared into those pools of blue.

You wanted scream or laugh, or smile. Something! But no, of course not. You just stood there like a lost puppy without its mom.

“Y/N…”

The sound of your voice on Steve’s lips was like a symphony, in the deep and husky tone, making your head go all fuzzy.

“Steve…”

Nothing more but an exchange of glances transpired, as Steve’s figure struck into the distance.

You bit at your lower lip, a giddy girlish smile stretching across your face as you closed the door behind you.

“Steve Rogers just kissed me. The words felt so right as the fell from your lips..

Your heart felt full of such emended joy, but the looming thoughts of guilt were not far behind…

You needed some wine. Scratch that, a lot of wine.

You grabbed your glass from the counter, smashing back what was left and grabbing the bottle as you marched your way to the sofa, a lifetime movie still playing. You settled into the sofa, draping a throw blanket over your feet.

You traced over your swollen lips with your finger, the lingering taste of his mouth still fresh. There was no way you were getting Steve out of your head tonight.

Well fuck.

This is why you made your work your life. It kept you busy, too busy to worry about frivolous things like dating and men. Feelings of this magnitude were too complex for your liking. And you hopelessly wished you could go back to before the feelings, when life was less… of a hassle.

Steve POV

The chill air of winter shown with each breath Steve took, as he burst through the door into the open street. His chest felt tight, his shirt wound up tight in his fist. What had he been thinking, kissing her like that? Steve thought to himself, unstable. But the kiss. That was the kiss of romance films, this kind of kiss that only happens in books. Steve has dreamed of kissing y/n for weeks, but he never imagined it be anything like that. Her full bodied lips were soft and warm against his. She tasted fruity, a mixture of her and the wine, and he loved it.

The way she kissed him back… it gave Steve shivers just just thinking about it. There was so much passion and lust in that kiss. He wanted more...

No. Steve aggressively ran his hands through his hair, thwarted in his own thoughts. He plucked his phone from his place tucked in his back pocket, sending a text to the group chat of Bucky and Sam.

Meet at my place. Need to talk.

Steve pulled the hood of his sweatshirt over his head, tucking the phone back into its place, as he took off in a trout. He needed to clear his mind- at least try- and jogging always seemed to give him a little perspective.

Sam and Bucky, stood on either side of the entry, Bucky looking utterly unamused, Sam looking a tad too eager.

The three men walked into the apartment, falling into the usual seating arrangement.

“So, you went to her place?” Sam’s  eyes nearly leapt from his head, his voice laced with anticipation.

Steve simply nodded, avoiding eye contact at all costs. “I had to try and clear the air..”

“More like you have the hots for her.”

“Shut it Sam.” Bucky chimed in, his arms crossed over his chest. “So what happened?”

“Well after I got off the phone with you Buck, I had every intention of talking with her but…” Steve trailed off, his head feeling fuzzy as he remembered that amazingly fiery kiss.

“Well What happened? Did you talk to her, or just run away?” Bucky asked, as him and Sam watched Steve with curious eyes.

“No, I kissed her.”

“That’s my boy.” Sam smiled as he patted Steve’s shoulder.  Bucky shook his head at the both of them.

“I… after the kiss I… i don’t.” Steve rustled through his already askew hair. “This marriage, Larissa… I just don’t know anymore. I’ve never felt this unsure about anything before.”

Steve rubbed at his beard as he sank into the oversized chair, desperately wishing he could disappear.

“I know she’s a real catch Steve, I get that, she’s a doll, but what about the agreement? You know that I have your best interest at heart, and I, Sam, even Nat,  will support you-“ Sam nodded in agreement as Bucky spoke. “But you know this marriage affects more than just you-“

“Fuck.”

Sam and Bucky starred at Steve in a state of awe. He rarely, if ever cursed.

Steve squeezed his eyes tight, wishing for better days.

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[itsallavengers]

And I ask for your hand (So you can follow as I run)

Ah, historical arranged marriage for poor Prince Anthony- except not, because he’s in love with a certain poor blacksmith's apprentice who’s name begins with ‘S’ and ends with -’teven’, and there’s not a force on heaven or earth that will stop him getting what he wants when he makes up his mind. This turned out at about 5k. Whoops.

Tony stared at his reflection in the grand mirror and wondered how the hell he’d ended up there.

 The room was outlandishly large, even by his standards. Glittery. An obvious show of wealth. There had been a few of these rooms dotted around the Stark palace, but never his own quarters. He’d made far too much mess for that to ever be an option.

No, this was a message. A boast. He’d been put in the most expensive of bedchambers in Stone’s palace and he’d been put there for a reason. This is what you’re marrying into, it screamed at him, look at all this money, this glory. This will all be yours tomorrow

In all honesty, it made him feel nauseous.

He did not need more money. He was already a prince- even if his father had blown all the kingdom’s fortune on foolish drunken decisions and his own insatiable vices, the wealth of his family still stood. He didn’t… this wasn’t his life. He didn’t belong here, being- being sold like nothing more than some object to fortify his father’s own kingdom. He wasn’t a tool used to improve political relations. He was a person. He was…

He was out of options.

His father needed the money to stay in power, to keep his land in one piece after all the idiotic mistakes and wasted money. And when he had trekked over to Tiberius Stone’s neighboring kingdom in order to plea for help, for money, the other king had made an offer that Howard simply could not refuse.

 Financial aid. A coalition of both kingdoms, joined together to create one formidable force- all for nothing more than Prince Anthony’s hand in marriage.

 And what had there been to think about, Tony thought bitterly, fisting his hand against the hard oak of the desk- the deal was win-win. Howard got to keep his kingdom, and he also got rid of the son who had always disappointed him. It all worked out fine and good for him.

It was Tony who had to lose everything.

Stone was 32 to Tony’s 18 years of age. He was smarmy and he was powerful and Tony hated him with a passion that burned fiercely in his heart. He’d had no choice in this- a boy in a world of kings, what hope had he had of fighting it? His initial arguments with Howard had only earnt him a trip to the dungeons, and when he had brought up his doubts to the man he was supposedly marrying, a quick and brutal backhand had shown him exactly where he stood. Exactly what his opinion was worth. Nothing. Nothing at all.

 Shaking fingers curled around the heavy ring on his opposite hand, and he twisted it nervously, feeling the familiarity underneath his fingertips. Made of simple silver, stained and scratched with age and with no precious rubies or diamonds to speak of, it was still the most valuable thing Tony owned. A family heirloom- although not his own. He could still remember the very day Steve had given it to him; slipping the thing on his finger in between soft kisses and even softer words.

 “It’s not much, I know,” Steve mumbled into his mouth, and Tony felt his lover’s cheeks flushing with embarrassment, “and it is not at all fit for a prince. I understand if you don’t want it-“

“Shut up, idiot,” Tony smacked him gently on the chest and bit his lip, looking up at Steve and feeling a burn in his chest that no other gift had ever elicited from him, ‘”I love it. It’s beautiful. Although I feel as if I’m undeserving of it- you should keep it for your future partner, Steve, not m-“

“You are the only person I could ever imagine wearing it,” Steve interrupted, as brutally honest as ever, bringing Tony’s hand up to his mouth and kissing the finger where the ring rested, “and you are the only person I want to be with in my future.”

 It had been foolish of them both to try and believe they would ever have something even remotely close to a future together- Steve was a blacksmith’s apprentice and Tony was a prince- there hadn’t been a hope.

It hadn’t stopped either of them from trying, though.

(Read more, mobile users!)

Secret meetings and desperate nights spent with one another had been commonplace. Mornings when Tony had snuck out of the gates to spend the day in the woods, hunting with Steve. Letters sent back and forth, compiling in a mass Tony kept under his mattress and treated as if they were more valuable than the Kingdom’s entire fortune.

He’d been in love with the boy since they were both twelve-year-olds and Steve had been on the brink of death from his illnesses. He’d loved him still as they’d walked through their teenage years together, Steve growing stronger and taller with each passing season until he could outmatch even Tony’s own skill and strength. And he’d loved him so fiercely, so intently on the night of Steve’s eighteenth birthday, that it had finally burst like a dam, and before he’d even known it he had thrown himself into Steve’s arms, knowing without a doubt that he would be caught. Because that was just who Steve was.

They’d known, going into it, that it was horribly dangerous. Steve ran the risk of exile or worse if he was caught having affairs with a prince, especially seeing as Tony was supposed to marry into royalty and strengthen the kingdom in less than a few years time. Initially, Tony had tried to stop him. Tried to push Steve away, knowing it led only to danger and heartbreak and if there was one thing on earth he would never be able to live with, it was Steve’s blood on his hands. But of course, it was Steve- Tony may as well have been trying to convince a brick wall.

“I want this, Tony,” was all he’d said, even after Tony’s grand speech on why they needed to end it before it could begin, “I want you. And you want me too. Even if the risk was ten times higher I would still do it. You’re worth it.”

 Tony hadn’t even been able to say goodbye to him.

It had happened so soon. One moment he was waking up and hearing of his father’s new deal with Stone, and the next he was being shoved into a carriage and directed to the neighboring kingdom on the other side of the valley. A day’s journey, and Tony had been thinking of those blue eyes and that warm smile for the entire length of it.

 And now he was going to be getting married to someone else in the morning. No doubt Steve had heard the news- it traveled fast in their rather small town, after all. Tony wondered if he would wait by the place they always met on a Saturday morning anyway, just in case. Probably. Steve never gave up hope. Tony, however- he was more of a glass half empty sort of man. And this situation certainly did seem lacking in any positives.

Money, lavish palaces, the heir to a throne- it all meant nothing to him. Tony didn’t want it. He wanted Steve- and the fact that he would probably never be able to see him again was like someone knifing his heart straight through from one end to the next. Once they were married, Tiberius certainly would not hesitate to execute Steve if he found out about them. And Tony would rather die himself than let that happen.

Jesus- he was going to be married by this time tomorrow. Eighteen fucking years of age, and his life had already been decided for him. Ruined for him.

It wasn’t fair, he thought bitterly, biting down on his lip so hard it split and formed pinpricks of red under his teeth. When he looked up at himself again, he was unsurprised to see his eyes were wet. None of this was fair.

 There was a knock on the door and Tony jumped, wiping hurriedly at his face and blinking away the tears. Weakness was not an option here. He took a deep breath and straightened his back, because he still had his dignity if nothing else. He was a prince, dammit, and he would act accordingly.

Well. To a certain degree, anyway.

“Come in,” he said loudly, putting his hands behind his back so the guest wouldn’t notice them shake. It would probably be one of the maids, coming with his outfit for tomorrow. Or perhaps a tailor to work out his size- that would be more likely, considering they wouldn’t want to just throw him in any old th-

 His train of thought froze up entirely as the door opened and his eyes were drawn to the unmistakable blue of Steve’s across the room.

 “Uh- Room service,” he declared, pulling in a trolley full of lavish foods and beverages behind him. He was wearing an apron and hat used by the kitchen staff and was generally playing up to his role of what appeared to be some sort of manservant remarkably well. “I was sent by the chef- don’t want the groom to be getting hungry, do we?”

Tony’s mouth dropped open. Steve kept chattering until his hand pushed the door fully closed, and then, only then did his mindless and made up conversation stop. His face lost its smile a little, but it was replaced with something undeniably relieved, and when Steve let his eyes slide shut for a second, Tony could feel the invisible weight being lifted from his lover’s shoulders. “Oh, sweetheart- I am so glad you’re okay,” he breathed softly.

“Steve,” was all Tony said, struck completely dumb. He didn’t understand. “What in the name of God are y-“

He never got to finish; a moment later Steve had swept him up in his arms and embraced him completely, sending him into darkness as he found himself with a face full of Steve’s chest. On instinct, his own hands rose and clutched Steve’s back, fingers working into the folds of his shirt and clutching for dear life. He could feel himself start to shake, the relief at just being able to see Steve’s face again almost overwhelming him entirely.

Steve stroked his back and rocked them from side to side gently, and Tony let himself choke, just for a moment. The sadness, the sense of loss- it felt like too much. He wanted to stay where he was, safe in Steve’s arms forever and ever- but once he let go he’d be leaving for good, to a man he didn’t know and a kingdom he didn’t belong in and with a side not occupied by Steve-

“It’s okay, love,” the warmth and heartbreak in Steve’s voice made for an interesting contrast, and Tony coughed weakly, trying to catch his breath as he found tears springing to his eyes, “I’ve got you, I’ve got you- we’re going to be okay, I promise, I’m here, I’ve got you-“

“Steve…” Tony hiccupped, pulling away if only a little until he was staring right up at Steve, their noses brushing, “Steve, you have to… you have to leave, it’s not safe, they’ll kill you-“

“I’m not leaving without you,” Steve told him softly, fingers brushing the stray hairs from Tony’s face and then smoothing around to cup his jaw, “I didn’t borrow Bucky’s horse, ride all this way and then sneak in through the kitchens pretending to be part of the Goddamned staff for nothing you know.”

Tony’s hands moved to Steve’s chest, resting over the beat of his heart. “I can’t- Steve, I can’t go, I can’t go with you, if they find you here they’ll execute you, please, please leave-“

“No,” Steve shook his head, “Tony I can’t leave you here, I can’t- not with them. I know it’s not my place and I know I was never meant to have you but…” he broke off, voice barely rising above a wrecked whisper as he leaned forward again, interspersing his speech with desperate, pleading kisses. “-Please- anyone but him. Come home, marry someone over there. It might break my heart but at least I could still- it would be safer than here. Don’t do this.”

Tony looked down miserably. He felt so exhausted; his head leaning heavily into Steve’s palm, just desperate to feel him, one last time. “I have no choice, Steve. They’ve already made the deal. Howard would never rescind just so I could be happier, you know that.”

Steve was silent; the only movement being his fingers carding lightly through the sides of Tony’s hair. He looked so sad. There had been a time when Tony would have pulled the moon out from the sky to stop him looking like that- but now all he could do was watch on, utterly helpless.

 “Then run away with me.”

 His head jolted up, looking at Steve in confusion. Steve was still stroking his fingers lightly across Tony’s scalp; eyes watching him as intently as ever- and those words were unmistakable. Steve was asking-

Someone knocked on the door, four sharp and brisk bangs, and Tony almost yelled in his panic. Steve jumped too, his own eyes widening as his head jerked over to the door. “Anthony,” came the unmistakable voice of Tiberius Goddamned Stone himself, “can I come in?”

Tony was surprised he’d even asked at all. Although, in all fairness, the man was a king. He had been taught these manners as a baby. “I- uh, just one second!” He called as naturally as he could, all the while shoving Steve in the direction of his huge bed. “Get under, get under, do not make a sound,” he hissed frantically, shoving Steve down onto the floor.

Steve looked a little afraid, but he went with a sharp nod and a quick kiss on Tony’s hand. Just in time, in fact- because a second later it seemed Stone gave up his manners entirely and opened the door despite Tony’s calling.

Tony stumbled back around, hands going behind his back once more. “Stone,” he said blankly.

The man looked at him with a fond shake of his head. “Come, Anthony, we are going to get married. I’m sure Tiberius is fine. If not- I am a king, and would like to be addressed as such.”

Tony swallowed, but nodded his head. God, he wanted to punch the bastard. “Sorry- your majesty.”

There was a silence in which Stone simply looked at him. Then he gestured toward him with a hand. “Come here,” he ordered. There was no room for argument.

Tony tried to smile, he truly did- but he felt it stick to his face a little as his legs worked robotically and he made his way to the dressing table in which Stone was leaning on. The man watched him intently and Tony felt a shudder of revulsion start down his spine. This was the person he was supposed to marry?

“I know I shouldn’t be seeing you on the night before our wedding,” the man spoke softly, and Tony stopped a good distance from him, but Stone made the rest of the journey himself; wandering forward until he was well in Tony’s space, “but I could not resist. I needed to give you something.”

Tony watched him, silent as Stone curled a hand into his pocket and pulled out a necklace. Gold; a plain chain that was thick and heavy, and with the largest circular pendant Tony had ever possibly seen. Made of solid diamond, by the looks of it. It was brash and ugly, in Tony’s opinion.

“I made it specially for you,” Stone whispered, “I had to raise the taxes in the whole kingdom to afford to have it made, but it was worth that. It will go so well with your skin. Here-“

And then Tony was being turned, dragged forward until his back was almost pressed into Stone’s chest. His face shone from the reflection of the table’s mirror, and he looked pale, visibly uncomfortable. Not that the king gave a damn, of course.

He stood there, tense and unmoving, as Stone unclasped the mechanism and opened the chain. Two arms came forward and wrapped it around his neck, and each press of metal against skin made it feel like a noose getting tighter around his throat.

“There,” Stone said softly against his neck, and Tony wondered how fast his pulse was going under the man’s mouth, “beautiful.”

When Tony said nothing, Tiberius looked at him. There was a slight warning in his eyes. Tony nodded jerkily. “I- yes- definitely, your majesty.”

He felt the sigh blow through his hair. Light fingers traced downward, starting at the top of his neck and moving slowly down his spine. He just stood there, praying the King wouldn’t try anything on and attempting not to shut his eyes in revulsion.

Thankfully, his hand stopped just under his collar before withdrawing. Tony bit back a sigh of relief and stood there, watching Stone through the reflection of the mirror. The king was close, too close, and yet again Tony had to wonder why the fates would ever have decided this for him. He was not just a pretty face destined to sit by his king’s side and stare adoringly, for God’s sake, he was an inventor. He was going to change his own kingdom for the better one day, and when his idiot of a father finally kicked the bucket, he was supposed to take over- a better, stronger leader than ever before. Not… not this. Not pushed into some marriage he knew would end with him as nothing more than some trophy, put on a shelf surrounded by glass walls he was unable to free himself from.

This wasn’t his life. This was never going to be his life.

 He made his decision, right then and there. Fuck the fates. Fuck every last one of them.

 “Tomorrow,” Stone whispered, mostly to himself as he began to back away, eyes still fixed on Tony’s in the reflection of the mirror. “Tomorrow will be a good day. Wear the necklace. Look pretty. The kingdom will marvel at what I have collected.”

Tony smiled warmly. “Of course,” he agreed, sweetness permeating his voice as he turned and ran a finger over the smooth surface of the pendant, “I can’t wait.”

The man smiled proudly, taking Tony’s hand and kissing the back of his palm slowly. Tony watched him as he straightened his back and then began to make his way from the room, shutting the door quietly behind him- and as soon as the door had clicked shut, Tony stormed forward, taking the chair under the desk along with him.

He waited a few seconds and then jammed the backrest under the door handle.

“You can come out now, Steve,” he called to the seemingly empty room, and then watched as Steve rolled himself quickly from out of the darkness, brushing the dust from his clothes.

Tony didn’t wait. Turning around, he rushed to his wardrobe and yanked open the doors. A few clothes, some of his tools perhaps, his emergency funds-

“Tony?” Steve asked warily from behind him, as Tony pulled bits and pieces from the depth of his wardrobe with an almost manic air, stuffing them all hurriedly into his satchel and hoping there would be enough room. “Tony, darling, are y-“

“Fuck fate,” and then Tony had moved, running toward Steve, shaking fingers curling around the man’s face, “fuck destiny or duty or whatever the fuck landed me here. I love you, Steve, I love you so much it is all that I am some days, and I’m not marrying that bastard. I refuse.”

Steve paused, blinking a few times. Then his breath hitched. “Do you mean-“

“We can travel to Rhodey’s,” Tony started nodded, leaning up on his tiptoes to litter Steve’s face with kisses, “the kingdom he is knighted into is a few days journey, but King Fury is a good man. He’ll keep us safe. Hopefully.”

Steve’s hands rested gently against Tony’s elbows, and his face broke into a hopeful smile. “Are you serious?” He asked like he had never expected Tony to actually agree.

“More serious than I have possibly ever been in my entire life,” Tony laughed a bit, scared and hysterical and stubborn, “I will follow wherever you go, Steve. Always.”

Steve’s face softened, forehead leaning against Tony’s. “You’re a prince,” he murmured, “you’re… you’re so much more than I could ever possibly give you.”

Tony’s mouth twitched in a smile, and his hands found Steve’s, locking their fingers together. “Everything that is worth something to me has come from you,” he said, voice barely making any sound at all, simply breathless promises in a candlelit room; him and Steve against the world, against every rule and order that had dictated Tony’s life. Just them. The only way Tony wanted it to be.

Steve kissed him, then. Soft and slow and gentle, an instant comfort to Tony’s churning mind. The warmth spread through his body, tingling underneath his fingers, zipping over his teeth, his tongue. He could not imagine a life in which Steve was not there. He didn’t want to. It wouldn’t be any sort of life at all, really.

Tony’s hands slipped around Steve’s neck, and he felt Steve’s own arms curl around his waist and tug him closer, holding onto him in desperation. “It is selfish,” Steve spoke into Tony’s mouth, teeth scraping his bottom lip as he spoke, “to deprive a kingdom of a brilliant leader like you.” He pushed a little harder, and Tony made a noise in the back of his throat as he held on and gave back everything he could. “But I’m doing it anyway.”

They broke away; Steve moving his hand around the back of Tony’s neck and then pulling until they were caught in a fiercely tight hug again. Tony sighed in utter relief, sinking into the hold and shutting his eyes against Steve’s neck. It felt as if there was no danger, here, with Steve holding him. No responsibilities. No standards to uphold or rules to follow. Just Steve. Steve’s heartbeat under his mouth, fast and beautiful and proof that there was still one good thing in the world.

“How are we going to do this?” Tony asked after a while, pulling away a little bit, but never letting go entirely. He didn’t think he was capable.

Steve’s face broke out into a sort of sheepish grin. He turned and looked over to the trolley he’d wheeled in earlier, and then shrugged. “Well- at first, I was just using that thing as an excuse to get to your bedchambers. But it does have a convenient bottom shelf, hidden underneath the sheet. And there’s a laughably easy way to get out once I get you to the kitchens- it’s how I got in in the first place,” he explained, whilst Tony just looked at him blankly.

“You want me,” he said, eyes turning to the trolley, “to curl up in that thing whilst you wheel me about a palace?”

“Well, what would you rather do?”

“I- I am a prince, Steve, I don’t-“

“Uh, I thought you said two minutes ago that you would happily give that all up in a heartbeat,” Steve raised his eyebrow and looked smug, beginning to push Tony backward, “and don’t try and tell me you ‘wouldn’t engage in that sort of activity’- I’ve watched you try and backflip into the lake off of the highest branch of that oak tree, and that wasn’t exactly very Prince-like, was it-“

“Shut up, only I get to decide what is princelike,” Tony said haughtily, before yelping when Steve poked him in the ribs and sent him stumbling backward a few more steps, “Hey! I could get you arrested for that.”

“I think you could get me arrested for a lot of things at this point, darling,” Steve said drily, “but you can either get in the trolley and I roll you to your freedom or you stay and become caught in a loveless marriage for the rest of your life. What will it be, your highness?” He cocked his head and smiled a little- and God, he was so beautiful when he was being an asshole. Tony would marry him ten times over if that was possible.

“Well, when you put it like that-“ Tony rolled his eyes and sighed deeply, but turned around to the trolley all the same.

Steve just beamed, kissing his cheek from behind and then hurrying forward in order to lift the regal-looking tablecloth up and reveal a second shelf, just about big enough for Tony to fit in. If he squeezed.

“You know what, I may reconsider-“ Tony started, before Steve just sighed and pushed his shoulder downward. Tony went with an undignified squawk, and he punched Steve’s leg on the way down, effectively deadening it.

Steve just looked at him and made a face. “Why am I risking my life to save you, again?” He asked blankly.

“Because you love me very very dearly and I brighten your life with my wit and boyish charm?” Tony tried, shuffling around a bit until he was firmly inside the shelf. Looking like a fool, no doubt. So much for regal dignity.

Steve huffed and then sunk to his haunches in order to get himself level with Tony. “Unfortunately, you’re not wrong,” he pressed a quick kiss to Tony’s forehead and then pulled down the tablecloth, “now sit still and do not make a sound, or we’re both dead.”

“Aye aye, captain,” Tony whispered, bouncing his knees up and forth in fearful excitement. He was terrified, obviously- but it was Steve. This was just like another stunt they had always pulled as kids. There was nothing to fear. Steve would look after him. He had done for years, after all.

He stuck a hand out from underneath the tablecloth and pointed at the door. “To freedom!” He declared in his most regal voice.

He felt Steve smack his hand lightly, pushing it back under as he began to roll forward. “With all due respect, your highness, please shut up.”

Tony grumbled, but tucked his hand back in, until only a finger was pointed outward. “To freedom!” He whispered, quieter.

Steve just laughed, and then kicked the chair out of the way of the door.

  “Okay, you can get out now.”

 Tony moved for the first time in three minutes, twenty seven seconds- poking his head warily out from under the tablecloth and finding himself in the darkness of the outdoors. They’d ended up just outside the kitchens in the courtyard, and Tony looked up at Steve questioningly. “You said there was an easy way out!”

“There is!” Steve whispered, crouching down and helping Tony out, “I just scaled the wall over there, look,” he pointed over to the corner, where the 10-foot brick wall stared back at them.

Tony looked up at him blankly. “Okay, uh- Steve, darling, you know I love you, but if you really think I’m going to be able to reach up there then y-“

“Don’t be stupid- I’ll give you a lift,” Steve said hurriedly, beginning to tug him forward and looking worriedly up to the windows, “come on, come on- before someone sees us.”

Without looking back, Tony took Steve’s hand and followed, both of them running through the shadows in the courtyard until they reached the opposing corner. Steve stopped and Tony ended up next to him, both of them pressed into each other in the darkness, with Steve’s arms automatically winding around Tony’s waist to hold him close.

Steve looked at him for a second and then kissed him lightly. His face glittered in the moonlight; golden hair falling into Ice-blue eyes. Tony let himself simply sink into it, into Steve- the years of familiarity, of shared secrets and kisses and love, God, did Tony love him- coming together and making this the easiest decision in the world. Steve was… Steve consumed him. Made him crazy. What other reason had he for running from a king, from wealth and fame and everything most men would happily kill for?

Steve laughed quietly and kissed him again. “You sure about this?” He whispered into Tony’s mouth, “Once we leave, we can’t come back. There’ll be a warrant out for the both of us.”

Tony nodded, pushing up to the tips of his toes and curling his hands around Steve’s neck. “Always thought you’d look good on a Wanted poster,” he admitted, “and I would have no complaints with being up there with you.”

When Steve smiled, Tony mirrored him. “Hey,” he said brightly, “we could go the whole mile- become a pair of no-good highwaymen, striking fear into the hearts of the rich and wealthy. Or pirates! I’m sure I could buy a boat from the money made off this God-awful necklace. A life of plundering and ocean-breeze, what do you think-“

“I’m not turning you into a pirate, Tony,” Steve leaned his head into Tony’s and kissed him on the forehead, “I know you’ve always wanted to be one, but I think we have to focus on getting the hell out of here before we make any solid plans about ruling the seven seas, no?”

Tony huffed sulkily. “Fine. But we’re picking this up again later!” He said, holding back a squeak when Steve crouched down and grabbed his ankle, hefting it upward suddenly.

Catching his balance, he quickly grabbed Steve’s shoulders and then felt as he was lifted into the air. Fast hands reached upward and found their grip on the wall, and he hurriedly began to pull himself up with relative ease.

Ha. And Howard had said a prince would never need Blacksmith’s arms.

As he sat on the wall, he looked down at Steve and then giggled a little hysterically as Steve stared back at him, measuring the jump he was going to have to make. “God, I love you,” he whispered, just as Steve flew upward and then scrambled up the wall like it was nothing more than a short hop rather than ten feet of brick.

Steve smiled at him as he swung a leg over, and then gave him a quick kiss on the nose. “I’d sure hope so, after all the hassle I’ve gone through for you tonight,” he said with a quick grin, and then leaped back down over the other side before Tony could even respond. His feet hit the earth surely, and he rolled with the impact before coming up again to look at Tony. “You can make it down, right?”

Tony rolled his eyes and then turned, grabbing the top of the wall in order to swing down easily. “Do you not know me at all?” He asked with a raised eyebrow.

Steve just grinned, taking his hand and pulling him forward again. “Just making sure- forgive me, but I’d rather we executed our daring escape without broken ankles.”

Tony felt himself being pulled down the lane that ran the perimeter of the castle, Steve leading them hurriedly, shooting looks back to Tony as they ran. They were both laughing quietly; Tony cursing every three seconds when his impractical footwear got caught on a rock, until eventually just taking them off and throwing them in a bush somewhere. After that, something clicked in his head, and he decided the whole thing must go. Still running, and with Steve looking back at him in bemusement, Tony shucked off the expensive green overcoat - tugged at the gold-threaded jacket until that too was off his body. Threw it in the ditch with the mud and the pondwater. Steve cocked his head and laughed, stopping to kiss Tony again, and Tony returned it with his own laugh, making the kiss itself rather messy, but still perfect. He never wanted to take his hands off Steve- and it seemed the sentiment was shared.

Steve sighed happily, pulling Tony even closer, and Tony went gladly, “whole kingdom at your feet,” he whispered against Tony’s lip, “and you’re still running away with me. Still all mine.“

“Mmm- what does a kingdom matter to a boy in love?” Tony asked, hands fiddling with the expensive jewelry on his wrists, covering his fingers. He yanked it off and dropped it carelessly, and Steve’s eyes shone with excitement, with mischief. Tony kissed his cheek. “I’ve always been yours, Steve,” he mumbled.

When they broke away, Tony was down to his tunic and trousers only. The necklace that had been gifted to him was stuffed in his pocket- it would sell enough to see them both comfortably living for the rest of their lives, after all. But everything else was gone- no trace of his royalty remained. Even his feet were bare against the stone footpath. Tony smiled, and Steve looked down at him softly, pushing the dark strands of hair out of his face with a delicate hand.

“Let’s go,” he whispered, despite the fact they were well out of range from the castle by that point. He jerked his head over to where Bucky’s familiar horse was tied up waiting, and Tony bounced giddily on his heels, beginning to run over.

Steve mounted expertly and Tony followed, tucking his hands around Steve’s waist. He dropped his head into the center of Steve’s spine for a second and shut his eyes, breathing in the familiar scent of Steve- of home.

“Let’s go,” he agreed, sitting up a little straighter and kissing the back of Steve’s neck.

 Tony looked behind him as they rode down the path; back at the future he was leaving behind him, the palace and the crown and the money.

He grinned. Good fucking riddance.

Ao3/ support me on kofi!

[linseysezines]

Screenplay: There’s Something Rotting In Your Basement

There’s Something Rotting In Your Basement

Linsey Bollegala

FADE IN:

EXT: 335 GEORGE STREET PETERBOROUGH ONTARIO

It’s a bleak chilly fall morning. The skies are grey and the sun is nowhere to be seen. The only sound that could be heard is the rustling of the trees as the wind gently caresses by. There is no one in sight in the area of George Street in  Peterborough, Ontario. There is a house, 335 George Street. The two story house is beat up and rugged. It’s evident that the current owner does not maintain the property. The grass on the front lawn is unevenly cut. The windows on the second level are cracked but still intact.  

The camera is in a worms eye perspective showing us the entire house. The grey, bleak sky can be seen in this angle too.

CUT TO:TITLE CARD

CUT TO BLACK.

Television can be heard, but the words are not clear.

FADE IN:

INT. 355 George Street

A long shot of the kitchen is shown with a evident door that’s wide open which seems to lead to a basement which is oddly unfitting to the bright yellow

(Continued)

themed kitchen although it isn’t much clean. The camera cuts to the living room which is also a mess. There are papers and flies scattered around on top of chairs, tables and on the floor which contained dirty carpeting of a dark military green. The carpeting is only on the living room floors and stops once they reach the hallway. The door of the china cabinet is left slightly ajar.

Dr.Brown is stretched across his couch sound asleep with heavy snores.

The television is on and can be heard in the background. Dr.Brown’s snores overpower the sound of the television.

DR.BROWN- Male, middle aged, medium build, average height of 5’6. Messy brown hair that once was combed with a well groomed moustache. He is wearing suspenders and a dress shirt with dress pants. One of his shoes are still on with his laces undone while the other shoe dangles half way on his foot. Most of his clothes are brown except the dress shirt he is wearing. His mouth is gaped open as he snores.

There is suddenly a loud bang. The sound appears to be someone hitting a wooden door. This disturbance wakes Dr. Brown with a jolt.

The muffled screams of a woman can be heard followed by a banging on a wooden door.

(Continued)

The camera is set on the level of the centrepiece table in front of the television. Dr.Brown’s hand could be seen reaching for his bottle of Jack that’s still less than a quarters full.

The Camera switches to a medium long shot of him taking swig from the bottle carelessly.

The muffled cry of the woman can be heard once more as Dr.Brown puts down his bottle of jack back on the table with a thudding sound as the bottle hits the wood of the table.

DR.BROWN (grunting)

Dammit...

What is it now lizabeth?

Dr.Brown runs his hand through his hair in stress letting out a huff. He sits up but hunches down and brings his hand together to show his stress. His legs are spaced apart and he starts thinking.

Dr.Brown puts his shoes back on properly and gets up from the coach. His heavy footsteps can be heard even on the dirty carpets and start echoing through the house once he reaches the hallway with the wooden floor boards. They creek on contact as the he walks across the the living room towards the staircase. His heavy footsteps pound the floor as he gruffly walks up the staircase.

The camera angle is a dutch angle, low shot and the camera

follows Dr.Brown’s feet as he goes up the staircase.

(Continued)

The staircase leads to an open space that is attached to four bedrooms and a washroom. All the doors are closed except for the washroom door which is left ajar which gives off an off vibe.

The camera follows Dr.Brown as he walks towards one of the bedrooms and he whips the door open. Simultaneously, a glass cup can be heard shattering.The camera switches to a first person perspective where the bedroom can be seen through Dr.Brown’s eyes.

Elizabeth- Female, innocent looking, petite, shorter and evidently younger than Dr.Brown. She has big brown brown doe eyes and hurt is evident by the look she gives Dr.Brown.She is wearing a floral and light yellow dress that goes past her knees. Her hair is in a low ponytail. Dr.Brown is her fiance.

The camera turns to the window that has been freshly broken by Elizabeth as she is holding an ax and then back at her.

DR.BROWN (panic)

WHAT ARE YOU DOING LIZABETH!!

ELIZABETH

You’re not going to keep me in here

any longer

DR.BROWN

Put. It. Down. (Referring to the ax)

(Continued)

ELIZABETH (Soft tone)

Cal.

Dr.BROWN (tone lightens)

No..

You don’t get to call me that.

No not anymore.

ELIZABETH

You can’t keep doing this to me ...Cal

Dr.BROWN

But you did this to me.

Quit making me that bad guy here!

ELIZABETH

But Cal I-

DR.BROWN

I LOVED YOU!

THEN-THEN THE MINUTE I GO OUT OF TOWN

THE MINUTE I WALK OUT THE DOOR...

You waltzed right into his arms. (quieter)

Elizabeth walks towards Dr.Brown still gripping onto the ax with both her hands.

ELIZABETH

Cal please listen it wasn’t like that I-

(Continued)

DR.BROWN

Don’t make me say it again.

You’re going to hurt yourself. Give that to me.

Dr.Brown reaches for the ax but Elizabeth does not let go. He tugs the Ax harder but she still doesn’t let go.

ELIZABETH

You never listen to me, at least he-

The camera is facing Dr.Brown. Anger surges through Dr.Brown and he releases the ax with a hard push towards Elizabeth. The camera switches to Elizabeth. Elizabeth isn’t able to handle the sudden strength. This results in her falling backwards onto the bed with the ax hitting her head. The ax spits her skull at the sudden contact and she is bleeding from her head wound. Her eyes are left open in shook but no words are coming out of her mouth.

Elizabeth dies from the sudden impact to her brain.

The camera cuts back to Dr.Brown who is in shock and all his emotions hit him at once as he realizes what has happened.

DR.BROWN

Oh my god no... Oh my god.

Oh my god! LIZABETH.

LIZABETH!

LIZABETH!!

(Continued)

Dr.Brown runs up to Elizabeth who is on the bed lifelessly still bleeding out.The camera switches to Dr.Brown’s perspective and we see Elizabeth through his eyes for a moment until the camera switches back to an over the shoulder angle.

Tears are streaming down Dr.Brown’s eyes as he shakes her holding her shoulders to try to get her to say something. Although Dr.Brown is a doctor, he is suddenly unsure of what to do.

DR.BROWN

I’m so sorry.

I love you...I still love you

Please just say something.

He tries shaking her, but there is no response. He decides to pull out the ax out of her head himself and throws it on to the wooden floor..The camera angle switches to ground levels showing the ax fall onto the ground which creates a dent and a distinct thud sound. His foot is seen kicking the ax underneath the bed. The camera switches back to Dr.Brown’s perspective. He takes Elizabeth’s dead body and swings it over his shoulder. He exits the room with a trail of blood following behind him as he carries her down the stairs.The camera does not follow Dr.Brown but stays in the room. The only thing that can be heard are his heavy footsteps going down the stairs and a door opening but very distantly.

CUT TO BLACK.

                                         CUT TO: TITLE CARD (ONE WEEK LATER)

A dripping faucet can be heard.

FADE TO:

Int. 335 George Street house

The camera follows the trial of dried blood that was left behind

from last week’s incident. One week has passed but Dr.Brown hasn’t cleaned his house. There is still evidence left of what may have happened.Dr.Brown is once again passed out on his coach. There are bottles of alcohol scattered on the teapo.

He is stretched across his coach with his mouth ajar. He jolts awake as if he dreamt of something bad. As he wakes up up abruptly he looks around the room in fear and takes a deep breath in relief.

CUT TO:

The camera is at an overhead angle showing Dr.Brown pacing around the kitchen. The camera angle changes to a medium long shot as Dr.Brown continues pacing around the kitchen in the house of 335 George Street.The kitchen has a dining table in the center that is unclean with plates scattered all over the table with half eaten meals. An unusual door can also be seen towards the back He is in deep thought. He finally stops in his tracks as if he has come to a conclusion or a final decision in his spot. Dr.Brown was away from the kitchen into a long narrow hallway.

FADE TO BLACK

The sound of a scrubbing brush can be heard against the wood as if someone hard at work cleaning.

FADE IN:

The camera moves up steadily showing Dr.Brown using a scrubbing brush as he is on his knees cleaning the stairs. For a moment, we see Dr.Brown’s perspective as scrubs the wooden stairs

CUT TO:

Dr.Brown is seen painting the staircase in an off putting brown tone that is much closer to orange as an attempt to cover up the dried up blood stains that’d barely faded after his clean up.The (Continued)

blood stains appeared to have soaked into the wood and still show after the coat of paint he has put making the paint seem translucent. Dr.Brown is seen flustered about this, but proceeds to finish his sloppy paint job.

CUT TO:

The camera is at a longshot angle as Dr.Brown is seen cleaning the rest of his house. His living room is no longer a mess and is now spot less. The floors are no longer carpeted and there are no longer papers all over the place. This all shows that Dr.Brown didn’t tell anyone as to what happened on the evening of last week.

FADE TO BLACK

A steady knock can be heard at the door of 335 George Street.

FADE IN:

The camera cuts to a shot of Dr.Brown’s brother who can be seen through the window next to the door where the camera is set.

MADDOX- Male,slender built, taller than Dr.Brown with brown hair covered by the top hat he is wearing. He is wearing formal attire which consists of a suit with dress shoes.He is the town’s best detective but also Dr.Brown’s brother. Dr.Brown hasn’t even told his brother who is the the closest person to him. He is unaware of the situation that took place last week.

Camera is in Dr.Brown’s perspective as he walks towards the door to open it. He opens the door, but Maddox is turned away.The camera is at a medium long shot as the door opens. As Maddox hears the door open he turns to greet his brother with a genuine smile.His nose crinkles a bit as he seems to notice a smell.

(Continued)

MADDOX

Ah little brother, it is

good to see you!

DR.BROWN

There’s that line,

There must be something important

you want to speak about.

MADDOX (smiles)

Ah no! Not that important!

DR.BROWN

(Attempting to digress from any serious talk)

How’s the weather out there?

MADDOX

They say there’s a storm approaching.

The camera switches to Dr.Brown’s expression which shows that he isn’t too comfortable with his brother’s presensence. Dr.Brown can be seen very subtly trying to block his brother from the direction of the basement door which evidently looks much different from when it was first seen in the beginning.The camera is focused on Dr.Brown. The camera is a medium shot. Behind him the door can be seen nailed shut.

The camera switches to a long shot of Maddox as he steps into the house and notices that a lot of things have changed and that there’s something off putting to all these new changes.

The camera pans into Maddox as he notices little strange details.

The camera switches to Maddox’s perspective as he looks at the basement door. He is seen brushing off the strange difference. Maddox proceeds to follow his brother Dr.Brown into the living room. As they pass the narrow hallway to the living room, Maddox notices the weird sloppy paint job on the once worn out oak wood staircase that once gave a vintage vibe.They reach the living room. The camera switches to Maddox and he is shown looking around the place as it has changed since he had been here previously.

Camera cuts to medium shot of Dr.Brown.    

DR.BROWN (nervous)

Maddie, I’m glad you decided to come

around here, maybe we can head out for a drink.

MADDOX

Don’t stress, here is fine.

Maddox says this as the camera switches to a long shot of him twirling his foot on floor. The camera briefly switches to

floor level as his foot pivots, meaning he has noticed the change to the floors of the even though he does not speak of it to his brother.

DR.BROWN

Ahh, uhh...that should be fine too!

I think I have a bottle in the kitchen.

Stay here, I got it.

Dr.Brown quickly goes off to the kitchen leaving Maddox in the living room. It doesn't take long for him to realize that the place is unusually clean. There were no more scattered papers everywhere, no bottles and no dirty carpet.

Maddox (laughing)

I see that you’re finally

getting settled down. Cause it’s about

damn time.

Camera is at Maddox who paces around in thought.

Maddox (smirking)

Now where’s that girl of yours?

(Continued)

Maddox is clearly happy for his brother. The camera follows behind him as he walks into the kitchen to see his brother. Dr.Brown is evidently alarmed at the question that is directed at him but he tries his best to hide it. The camera follows Maddox as he goes into the kitchen. The camera is in his perspective. We can see through his eyes that there is a bin with strange rags with red stains but put off distinctly to the side in attempt to hide them. The camera cuts to a medium shot of Maddox.

Maddox (disgust)

Something smells fishy and it’s not the fish.

Camera cuts to a medium close up shot of Dr.Brown. Fear and guilt are evident on Dr.Brown’s face. Camera cuts to Maddox as he is seen covering his nose as there seems to be a very evident pungent odour in the kitchen area.

Maddox

Calvin, where is Elizabeth?

The camera cuts to a close up of Dr.Brown who is looking rather nervous and suspicious.

Dr. Brown

S-s-she went out of town

for a bit.

The camera is cut back to Maddox as it’s a close up shot of his face.

Maddox

I don’t think so…

Dr.Brown is in loss of words or excuses. He remains silent as Maddox is astonished by him.

(Continued)

Dr.Brown

S-she did.

SHE DID GO OUT OF TOWN!

The camera cuts to a long shot of Maddox as he marches up to his brother in anger and grabs him by the neck and looks him in the eyes.

Maddox (gritting)

If I find what I think I’ll find…

I won’t let you stand a chance

The camera follows Maddox over the shoulder. Maddox shoves his brother aside and kicks open the door to the basement.There is a worms eye view from the basement as the camera looks up at Maddox. The camera cuts the opening of the door which releases a strong wave of an odour which hits Maddox in an instant.The camera switches to a closeup of Dr.Brown as he gulps. His adam’s apple bobs as he swallowed nervously.

The camera cuts to a medium close up of Maddox’s expression which can be seen changing to slight fear, but he quickly becomes serious. His hand rests on the holster of his gun and he clicks it but does not take it out.

Camera cuts to a close up of Maddox.

Maddox

There’s something rotting in your basement.

FADE TO BLACK

END.

[teenwolfficrec]

What I Did On My Summer Vacation (by grimm):

There’s something weird about Beacon Hills that Stiles can’t quite put his finger on. The way everyone in town knows his name the day he arrives. The way they insist the melancholic howling that echoes through the forest every night is just a dog. The way his dad denies getting a dog, even though Stiles comes home to find one sprawled across his bed, some big black thing whose eyes gleam red in the right light. The way that massive oak tree out in the woods vibrates under his touch, pulsing with sickly life.

There’s something weird going on in this town, and Stiles is determined to get to the bottom of it.

🌲🌳🌾🌿🍂🍁🍃🌰

The One With The Mail-Order Brides and A/B/O Dynamics (by Stoney):

Wolves aren’t meant to be alone. Laura tells Derek this repeatedly. Which… is why Derek knows he’s losing his mind, as Laura has been dead for more than six years. Wolves aren’t meant to be alone.

And so he sends away for a companion. JUST for a companion, not for a mate. The universe, however, has a different plan in store for him.

🌲🌳🌾🌿🍂🍁🍃🌰

how sharp are your teeth (by Bontaque):

Stiles mistakenly visits Derek whilst he is in heat.

🌲🌳🌾🌿🍂🍁🍃🌰

tide pulls from the moon (by paintedrecs):

When Derek left Beacon Hills, finally ripping the tether free and remembering how to breathe, how to live again, it was Stiles who came after him. Stiles, who showed up at his door with blazing eyes, looking like he wanted to punch him in the face, but wrapping his arms around him instead, making him grunt in surprise at the raw strength of his embrace.

“You asshole,” Stiles said, slapping him heartily on the back as he extricated himself, his voice rough under his bright smile. “You couldn’t have made yourself harder to find, could you?”

🌲🌳🌾🌿🍂🍁🍃🌰

Alone Together (by asocialfauxpas):

Derek has lost his pack. Stiles has lost his pod. They find each other on the high seas.

🌲🌳🌾🌿🍂🍁🍃🌰

These Iron Bars Can’t Hold My Soul In (by voidnogitsune):

“Derek, we, uh. We found something.” Scott says over the phone, and if it weren’t for the fear in his voice and the panic seeping through the bond, Derek wouldn’t have acted as quickly.

When the pack arrives, Scott is knelt down beside an amber-colored wolf, hand stroking through the fur in smooth movements. It’s barely breathing, chest rising and falling with obvious effort. There’s a chain collar wrapped around its throat, silver spikes digging into skin and fur.

Derek stalks up to the body and scents the air around the he-wolf, trying to decipher whose pack he belongs to, but all he can smell is fire and ash.

Or the one where Stiles is a werewolf from another pack and Derek’s pack takes him in as their own.

🌲🌳🌾🌿🍂🍁🍃🌰

omnis cellula e cellula (by twnkwlf):

“You put the diaper on backwards,” Derek says.

🌲🌳🌾🌿🍂🍁🍃🌰

say my name, say my name (by crossroadswrite):

In werewolf lore there is a tale, passed down through generations, about the sanctity of the mate bond and how only your mate can bring you back from the brink of madness by naming you.

Derek always knew names were power for creatures like him, he just never knew someone calling his could change his world.

🌲🌳🌾🌿🍂🍁🍃🌰

I’ll be the Jane to Your Tarzan (by Laluna92):

The wolf man moves down to Stiles’ chest, frowning at the offending clothing that is blocking his way to more of Stiles’ skin. He brings his clawed finger down the front of Stiles’ shirt and rips it straight down the middle. Stiles starts to protest but he’s cut off by a threatening growl. He proceeds to rub his stubble across Stiles’ chest making his nipples harden at the rough feel of his jaw. Once the man is satisfied with his work, he moves his clawed fingers down Stiles’ stomach to remove the jeans from his body.

Stiles wrenches away from his touch and glares, “No. I’ve let you have your fun but there is no way your clawed fingers are going anywhere near my dick, dude.” The wolf man tilts his head and his eyes narrow in anger. Suddenly, his wolf face transforms into one of a young man in his early twenties and holy fuck this guy is hot.

(Or Stiles gets lost in the woods and comes across a feral wolf man who claims Stiles as his own.)

🌲🌳🌾🌿🍂🍁🍃🌰

Thirty Messages (by Julibean19):

“Look. I think my friend is obsessed with you… or your cell phone at the very least. And if your stupid fucking voice saying the same two words is all he’s ever gonna have of you, then you have to let him go. You don’t let him get attached and you don’t drag it out. If you hurt him, or lead him on, even just a little bit, I swear to God I will kill you. So call him back, and end it.”

In which Derek leaves town with Cora, and Stiles thinks he might be going insane… because no one would leave this many rambling voicemails for someone they weren’t even dating… right?

🌲🌳🌾🌿🍂🍁🍃🌰

Lost (On the Road to Self-Destruction) (by bluerib):

When word reaches the Beacon Hills Sheriff Department of an illegal, underground, full-shift pit fight Deputy Stiles Stilinski is the first to volunteer for the raid. He expects the usual: wounded wolves, pissed off owners and enough violence to fuel the world if it could be bottled and sold. What he gets isn’t all that different; except for that black wolf with red eyes that has the judgiest wolf-face ever. Stiles is instantly smitten, it all goes down hill from there

Let's Get Lost (by gottalovev):

Tragedy strikes and Derek would do anything to help Stiles get better. If that means leaving town together with no specific destination in mind? So be it.

🌲🌳🌾🌿🍂🍁🍃🌰

lick me, lave me, love me (by tryslora):

It’s not the first time he’s woken like this, a huge paw pressed against his chest, holding him in place. Derek likes to groom him in the morning, likes to let the wolf explore Stiles, taste him.

🌲🌳🌾🌿🍂🍁🍃🌰

Shadow And Flame (by Zeepacna):

“Time and death walk side by side.” The banshee told him with a small smile on her face “Save them.” She said, with a plea in her eyes.

Stiles only had a moment to feel confused before the banshee was unleashing the combined force of all the screams she had been holding back directly in his face.

Lydia somehow managed to send Stiles back in time. Now he has to save his pack, a pack that doesn't even exist yet, let alone trust each other.

🌲🌳🌾🌿🍂🍁🍃🌰

Stiles, the Human Incubator/ Submarine (if He Goes Underwater) (by orphan_account):

Stiles thought Deaton was joking about the cool looking plant that could 'go against the laws of the universe'. He wasn't.

or

Stiles is newly, accidentally pregnant and emotional, and Derek is the sweetest, most over protective mate that ever existed.

🌲🌳🌾🌿🍂🍁🍃🌰

Hide (by dr_girlfriend):

Stiles has been rejected so many times that it doesn't really surprise him when it happens again. Hurts, yeah, because dammit — he'd thought Derek was the one. Heartbreak sucks, and he's not so sure he's going to get over it this time.

🌲🌳🌾🌿🍂🍁🍃🌰

(The Time Derek Had To) Pick a Fucking Anchor (by cheshirecat101):

Derek's Wolf form has only one thought: Stiles.

🌲🌳🌾🌿🍂🍁🍃🌰

Source of the art: x

[ezinelinseybee]

There’s Something Rotting In Your Basement

FADE IN:

EXT: 335 GEORGE STREET PETERBOROUGH ONTARIO

It’s a bleak chilly fall morning. The skies are grey and the sun is nowhere to be seen. The only sound that could be heard is the rustling of the trees as the wind gently caresses by. There is no one in sight in the area of George Street in  Peterborough, Ontario. There is a house, 335 George Street. The two story house is beat up and rugged. It’s evident that the current owner does not maintain the property. The grass on the front lawn is unevenly cut. The windows on the second level are cracked but still intact.  

The camera is in a worms eye perspective showing us the entire house. The grey, bleak sky can be seen in this angle too.

CUT TO:TITLE CARD

CUT TO BLACK.

Television can be heard, but the words are not clear.

FADE IN:

INT. 355 George Street

A long shot of the kitchen is shown with a evident door that’s wide open which seems to lead to a basement which is oddly unfitting to the bright yellow

(Continued)

themed kitchen although it isn’t much clean. The camera cuts to the living room which is also a mess. There are papers and flies scattered around on top of chairs, tables and on the floor which contained dirty carpeting of a dark military green. The carpeting is only on the living room floors and stops once they reach the hallway. The door of the china cabinet is left slightly ajar.

Dr.Brown is stretched across his couch sound asleep with heavy snores.

The television is on and can be heard in the background. Dr.Brown’s snores overpower the sound of the television.

DR.BROWN- Male, middle aged, medium build, average height of 5’6. Messy brown hair that once was combed with a well groomed moustache. He is wearing suspenders and a dress shirt with dress pants. One of his shoes are still on with his laces undone while the other shoe dangles half way on his foot. Most of his clothes are brown except the dress shirt he is wearing. His mouth is gaped open as he snores.

There is suddenly a loud bang. The sound appears to be someone hitting a wooden door. This disturbance wakes Dr. Brown with a jolt.

The muffled screams of a woman can be heard followed by a banging on a wooden door.

(Continued)

The camera is set on the level of the centrepiece table in front of the television. Dr.Brown’s hand could be seen reaching for his bottle of Jack that’s still less than a quarters full.

The Camera switches to a medium long shot of him taking swig from the bottle carelessly.

The muffled cry of the woman can be heard once more as Dr.Brown puts down his bottle of jack back on the table with a thudding sound as the bottle hits the wood of the table.

DR.BROWN (grunting)

Dammit...

What is it now lizabeth?

Dr.Brown runs his hand through his hair in stress letting out a huff. He sits up but hunches down and brings his hand together to show his stress. His legs are spaced apart and he starts thinking.

Dr.Brown puts his shoes back on properly and gets up from the coach. His heavy footsteps can be heard even on the dirty carpets and start echoing through the house once he reaches the hallway with the wooden floor boards. They creek on contact as the he walks across the the living room towards the staircase. His heavy footsteps pound the floor as he gruffly walks up the staircase.

The camera angle is a dutch angle, low shot and the camera

follows Dr.Brown’s feet as he goes up the staircase.

(Continued)

The staircase leads to an open space that is attached to four bedrooms and a washroom. All the doors are closed except for the washroom door which is left ajar which gives off an off vibe.

The camera follows Dr.Brown as he walks towards one of the bedrooms and he whips the door open. Simultaneously, a glass cup can be heard shattering.The camera switches to a first person perspective where the bedroom can be seen through Dr.Brown’s eyes.

Elizabeth- Female, innocent looking, petite, shorter and evidently younger than Dr.Brown. She has big brown brown doe eyes and hurt is evident by the look she gives Dr.Brown.She is wearing a floral and light yellow dress that goes past her knees. Her hair is in a low ponytail. Dr.Brown is her fiance.

The camera turns to the window that has been freshly broken by Elizabeth as she is holding an ax and then back at her.

DR.BROWN (panic)

WHAT ARE YOU DOING LIZABETH!!

ELIZABETH

You’re not going to keep me in here

any longer

DR.BROWN

Put. It. Down. (Referring to the ax)

(Continued)

ELIZABETH (Soft tone)

Cal.

Dr.BROWN (tone lightens)

No..

You don’t get to call me that.

No not anymore.

ELIZABETH

You can’t keep doing this to me ...Cal

Dr.BROWN

But you did this to me.

Quit making me that bad guy here!

ELIZABETH

But Cal I-

DR.BROWN

I LOVED YOU!

THEN-THEN THE MINUTE I GO OUT OF TOWN

THE MINUTE I WALK OUT THE DOOR...

You waltzed right into his arms. (quieter)

Elizabeth walks towards Dr.Brown still gripping onto the ax with both her hands.

ELIZABETH

Cal please listen it wasn’t like that I-

(Continued)

DR.BROWN

Don’t make me say it again.

You’re going to hurt yourself. Give that to me.

Dr.Brown reaches for the ax but Elizabeth does not let go. He tugs the Ax harder but she still doesn’t let go.

ELIZABETH

You never listen to me, at least he-

The camera is facing Dr.Brown. Anger surges through Dr.Brown and he releases the ax with a hard push towards Elizabeth. The camera switches to Elizabeth. Elizabeth isn’t able to handle the sudden strength. This results in her falling backwards onto the bed with the ax hitting her head. The ax spits her skull at the sudden contact and she is bleeding from her head wound. Her eyes are left open in shook but no words are coming out of her mouth.

Elizabeth dies from the sudden impact to her brain.

The camera cuts back to Dr.Brown who is in shock and all his emotions hit him at once as he realizes what has happened.

DR.BROWN

Oh my god no... Oh my god.

Oh my god! LIZABETH.

LIZABETH!

LIZABETH!!

(Continued)

Dr.Brown runs up to Elizabeth who is on the bed lifelessly still bleeding out.The camera switches to Dr.Brown’s perspective and we see Elizabeth through his eyes for a moment until the camera switches back to an over the shoulder angle.

Tears are streaming down Dr.Brown’s eyes as he shakes her holding her shoulders to try to get her to say something. Although Dr.Brown is a doctor, he is suddenly unsure of what to do.

DR.BROWN

I’m so sorry.

I love you...I still love you

Please just say something.

He tries shaking her, but there is no response. He decides to pull out the ax out of her head himself and throws it on to the wooden floor..The camera angle switches to ground levels showing the ax fall onto the ground which creates a dent and a distinct thud sound. His foot is seen kicking the ax underneath the bed. The camera switches back to Dr.Brown’s perspective. He takes Elizabeth’s dead body and swings it over his shoulder. He exits the room with a trail of blood following behind him as he carries her down the stairs.The camera does not follow Dr.Brown but stays in the room. The only thing that can be heard are his heavy footsteps going down the stairs and a door opening but very distantly.

CUT TO BLACK.

                                         CUT TO: TITLE CARD (ONE WEEK LATER)

A dripping faucet can be heard.

FADE TO:

Int. 335 George Street house

The camera follows the trial of dried blood that was left behind

from last week’s incident. One week has passed but Dr.Brown hasn’t cleaned his house. There is still evidence left of what may have happened.Dr.Brown is once again passed out on his coach. There are bottles of alcohol scattered on the teapo.

He is stretched across his coach with his mouth ajar. He jolts awake as if he dreamt of something bad. As he wakes up up abruptly he looks around the room in fear and takes a deep breath in relief.

CUT TO:

The camera is at an overhead angle showing Dr.Brown pacing around the kitchen. The camera angle changes to a medium long shot as Dr.Brown continues pacing around the kitchen in the house of 335 George Street.The kitchen has a dining table in the center that is unclean with plates scattered all over the table with half eaten meals. An unusual door can also be seen towards the back He is in deep thought. He finally stops in his tracks as if he has come to a conclusion or a final decision in his spot. Dr.Brown was away from the kitchen into a long narrow hallway.

FADE TO BLACK

The sound of a scrubbing brush can be heard against the wood as if someone hard at work cleaning.

FADE IN:

The camera moves up steadily showing Dr.Brown using a scrubbing brush as he is on his knees cleaning the stairs. For a moment, we see Dr.Brown’s perspective as scrubs the wooden stairs

CUT TO:

Dr.Brown is seen painting the staircase in an off putting brown tone that is much closer to orange as an attempt to cover up the dried up blood stains that’d barely faded after his clean up.The (Continued)

blood stains appeared to have soaked into the wood and still show after the coat of paint he has put making the paint seem translucent. Dr.Brown is seen flustered about this, but proceeds to finish his sloppy paint job.

CUT TO:

The camera is at a longshot angle as Dr.Brown is seen cleaning the rest of his house. His living room is no longer a mess and is now spot less. The floors are no longer carpeted and there are no longer papers all over the place. This all shows that Dr.Brown didn’t tell anyone as to what happened on the evening of last week.

FADE TO BLACK

A steady knock can be heard at the door of 335 George Street.

FADE IN:

The camera cuts to a shot of Dr.Brown’s brother who can be seen through the window next to the door where the camera is set.

MADDOX- Male,slender built, taller than Dr.Brown with brown hair covered by the top hat he is wearing. He is wearing formal attire which consists of a suit with dress shoes.He is the town’s best detective but also Dr.Brown’s brother. Dr.Brown hasn’t even told his brother who is the the closest person to him. He is unaware of the situation that took place last week.

Camera is in Dr.Brown’s perspective as he walks towards the door to open it. He opens the door, but Maddox is turned away.The camera is at a medium long shot as the door opens. As Maddox hears the door open he turns to greet his brother with a genuine smile.His nose crinkles a bit as he seems to notice a smell.

(Continued)

MADDOX

Ah little brother, it is

good to see you!

DR.BROWN

There’s that line,

There must be something important

you want to speak about.

MADDOX (smiles)

Ah no! Not that important!

DR.BROWN

(Attempting to digress from any serious talk)

How’s the weather out there?

MADDOX

They say there’s a storm approaching.

The camera switches to Dr.Brown’s expression which shows that he isn’t too comfortable with his brother’s presensence. Dr.Brown can be seen very subtly trying to block his brother from the direction of the basement door which evidently looks much different from when it was first seen in the beginning.The camera is focused on Dr.Brown. The camera is a medium shot. Behind him the door can be seen nailed shut.

The camera switches to a long shot of Maddox as he steps into the house and notices that a lot of things have changed and that there’s something off putting to all these new changes.

The camera pans into Maddox as he notices little strange details.

The camera switches to Maddox’s perspective as he looks at the basement door. He is seen brushing off the strange difference. Maddox proceeds to follow his brother Dr.Brown into the living room. As they pass the narrow hallway to the living room, Maddox notices the weird sloppy paint job on the once worn out oak wood staircase that once gave a vintage vibe.They reach the living room. The camera switches to Maddox and he is shown looking around the place as it has changed since he had been here previously.

Camera cuts to medium shot of Dr.Brown.    

DR.BROWN (nervous)

Maddie, I’m glad you decided to come

around here, maybe we can head out for a drink.

MADDOX

Don’t stress, here is fine.

Maddox says this as the camera switches to a long shot of him twirling his foot on floor. The camera briefly switches to

floor level as his foot pivots, meaning he has noticed the change to the floors of the even though he does not speak of it to his brother.

DR.BROWN

Ahh, uhh...that should be fine too!

I think I have a bottle in the kitchen.

Stay here, I got it.

Dr.Brown quickly goes off to the kitchen leaving Maddox in the living room. It doesn't take long for him to realize that the place is unusually clean. There were no more scattered papers everywhere, no bottles and no dirty carpet.

Maddox (laughing)

I see that you’re finally

getting settled down. Cause it’s about

damn time.

Camera is at Maddox who paces around in thought.

Maddox (smirking)

Now where’s that girl of yours?

(Continued)

Maddox is clearly happy for his brother. The camera follows behind him as he walks into the kitchen to see his brother. Dr.Brown is evidently alarmed at the question that is directed at him but he tries his best to hide it. The camera follows Maddox as he goes into the kitchen. The camera is in his perspective. We can see through his eyes that there is a bin with strange rags with red stains but put off distinctly to the side in attempt to hide them. The camera cuts to a medium shot of Maddox.

Maddox (disgust)

Something smells fishy and it’s not the fish.

Camera cuts to a medium close up shot of Dr.Brown. Fear and guilt are evident on Dr.Brown’s face. Camera cuts to Maddox as he is seen covering his nose as there seems to be a very evident pungent odour in the kitchen area.

Maddox

Calvin, where is Elizabeth?

The camera cuts to a close up of Dr.Brown who is looking rather nervous and suspicious.

Dr. Brown

S-s-she went out of town

for a bit.

The camera is cut back to Maddox as it’s a close up shot of his face.

Maddox

I don’t think so…

Dr.Brown is in loss of words or excuses. He remains silent as Maddox is astonished by him.

(Continued)

Dr.Brown

S-she did.

SHE DID GO OUT OF TOWN!

The camera cuts to a long shot of Maddox as he marches up to his brother in anger and grabs him by the neck and looks him in the eyes.

Maddox (gritting)

If I find what I think I’ll find…

I won’t let you stand a chance

The camera follows Maddox over the shoulder. Maddox shoves his brother aside and kicks open the door to the basement.There is a worms eye view from the basement as the camera looks up at Maddox. The camera cuts the opening of the door which releases a strong wave of an odour which hits Maddox in an instant.The camera switches to a closeup of Dr.Brown as he gulps. His adam’s apple bobs as he swallowed nervously.

The camera cuts to a medium close up of Maddox’s expression which can be seen changing to slight fear, but he quickly becomes serious. His hand rests on the holster of his gun and he clicks it but does not take it out.

Camera cuts to a close up of Maddox.

Maddox

There’s something rotting in your basement.

FADE TO BLACK

END.