#but i can’t help but feel like this is cyclical and it’s gonna happen again | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

magniloquent-raven · 4 years ago

Note

for fluff: "one more chapter" or "there's enough room for both of us"

it’s been 84 years............ but here u go lmao tysm for the prompts!!!!!! i used both!

CW for some brief suicidal ideation, just in case. it’s v mild but pls be careful yall (i know, this fic was supposed to be fluffy 😅)

posted on ao3

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Billy’s life had changed a lot in the past two years.

So much that some days he barely recognizes himself in the mirror. The scars, the state of his hair—which he hasn’t cut since last summer and generally just throws back for convenience’ sake—the stubble he doesn’t bother with most days. Small things, in the grander scheme of what’s different about his life, but it adds up.

And it’s Friday night, he’s curled up at home, and perfectly content to be there.

There’s a steaming mug of cider on the coffee table (a scratched-up old thing that Hop left him when he officially handed off ownership of his trailer to Billy), and wind rattling the windows, and Max is asleep in the next room. It’s...cozy.

El stopped by earlier that afternoon, Max in tow, demanding Billy let them stay because Mike was being a dick or a DnD campaign was going on too long and El’s character died a while back so she was bored, or...something. Possibly Mike was being a dick about her character being dead. Max kept chiming in with her own two cents worth but it really just made the whole thing harder to follow.

But it didn’t really matter why they stopped by, they’re always coming up with reasons to invade his living room and eat all his food and nag him about teaching them how to do fancy braids. And Max usually wanders off to nap in his room when El starts asking Billy to read to her.

Which is what he’s doing now.

Last month he read her Jane Eyre (her idea). A week ago they started The Hobbit.

It’s been slow going, considering how often El interrupts to ask questions, and every time there’s a song they have the same argument about him not actually singing, but they’re making progress.

He’s reading through the weird goblin song as monotone as possible just so he can laugh at El’s disgruntled scrunchy face, and putting up with her poking his thigh with her toes when he rolls his eyes at her, and honestly having the time of his fucking life, because, yeah, saying things have changed in the past two years is the understatement of the decade.

When he gets to the end of Over Hill and Under Hill and closes the book she gasps dramatically, sitting up and pulling the ugly orange throw blanket (gift from Mrs. Byers) she’d been snuggled up in tighter around her shoulders.

“Billy, no!”

He drops the book in his lap and raises his eyebrows at her. “It’s the end of the chapter.”

“No.”

“Yeah, it definitely is.”

El frowns at him, her whole face going pinched. “But you can’t stop there.”

It’s moments like this that almost make Billy forget she can kill people with her brain. Moments when she just looks like a kid, all wrapped up in her favourite blanket and pouting.

And it’s like she knows that’s his goddamn kryptonite. Because those moments also remind him that she deserves this. More than anyone he knows, she deserves all the childish crap she wants, and more. It won’t ever replace the childhood that was taken from her, but it’s a start.

So, needless to say, Billy has a hard time saying no to her.

He drops his head back against the cushion behind him, staring at the ceiling for a moment—pretending to contemplate, while she glowers at him—and sighs loudly.

“One more chapter.”

She beams.

They’re only a few pages into Riddles in the Dark when a car pulls up, and Billy doesn’t even have time to put the book down before the front door bursts open.

“El! Will thought he—is that The Hobbit?” Dustin comes to an abrupt halt two paces into the room, blinking at the book in Billy’s hands. All his little friends nearly collide with his back, and there’s suddenly a gaggle of obnoxious teenagers huddled in Billy’s doorway.

“Who cares,” Lucas scoffs, pushing him out of the way so he, Wheeler, and Will, can shuffle the rest of the way inside. “Get out of the way!”

Billy is still trying to figure out what the fuck’s even happening when Steve goddamn Harrington walks in behind his pack of brats. Because of course he was the one who drove them here. Him being a fine upstanding citizen and all that. With nothing better to do, apparently. (Not that Billy has room to judge anymore.)

Suddenly the bickering kids are mostly background noise. Billy always did have a hard time concentrating on anything else when Steve’s in the room. Especially when he’s looking like that, warm brown eyes lit up with interest, and the corner of his mouth pulling upwards in a half-smile. His cheeks are pink from the chill outside, his hair a mess from the wind, and locking eyes with him makes Billy’s heart pound.

They’ve been on good terms these past few months and it’s a special kind of torture that Billy wouldn’t give up for the fucking world.

But he doesn’t get to enjoy the view for long because—

“—the Mind Flayer might be back!”

Billy stiffens. “What?” He glances at El. She’s sitting up straight now, her eyes dark, expression closed off.

Mike sighs irritably. “Weren’t you listening? Will thinks he might have sensed the Mind Flayer, so we needed to make sure El’s okay.” He crosses his arms, glaring at Billy. “Because the stupid thing wants her dead, remember?”

“Wheeler,” Steve hisses, and smacks the kid’s shoulder.

“Yeah.” Billy grits his teeth, cold fingers trailing down his spine. “I remember.”

The room is silent for several agonizing seconds, the kids all exchanging glances. Until Billy’s bedroom door opens and Max shuffles out, rubbing her eyes.

“What’s everyone doing here?”

They’d all been hanging out at Steve’s when Will had a bad feeling. The same kind of prickling bone-deep chill he’d gotten two summers ago. Needless to say, ignoring it until people started dying didn’t seem like the way to go this time, hence the home invasion.

Which had been Steve’s idea, apparently. Or. His initial reaction had been to blurt out does this mean Billy’s possessed again, and it had spiraled from there. To Mike freaking out about El not being safe because she was here, to Lucas reminding him that Billy had only gotten the better of her when she didn’t have powers, to Dustin yelling about checking in with her either way because she might have The Facts.

And so they’d broken a couple traffic laws to get here.

Billy suspects Steve feels guilty about suggesting he might be possessed, because he got very awkward when it was brought up. And he stepped in several times when Wheeler and Sinclair’s interrogation got a little too intense (there were threats of hot pokers involved).

It should have felt condescending—Billy’s a grown-ass adult, he doesn’t need someone defending him from lanky teenagers—but he can’t help feeling a little warm when it’s Steve coming to his defense.

The discussion overall is a mess. El doesn’t have any answers, Billy hasn’t felt anything odd lately, and the lack of anything to go on beyond Will having a momentary freakout is putting everyone on edge.

Max, who squished herself onto the couch between Billy and El, cuts through the cyclical arguing after the third dramatic eye-roll from Mike. “Guys, can you cool it for a second. We’re getting nowhere.” Her protest is punctuated by a yawn, which makes El giggle.

“She’s right,” Steve sighs, mussing with his hair absentmindedly. “Billy and El are fine, everyone’s fine, we should all get some sleep.”

“Dude, are you sure you’re good to drive?” Dustin asks, squinting appraisingly at Steve. It’s a fair question, it’s late and Steve looks like he’s about to keel over, but Billy’s not sure he likes where this is going.

“Who said anything about driving?” Max snorts, glancing at Billy.

Damnit Max.

“Is there even space for everyone here? This place is tiny.”

“Fuck you, Wheeler, not all of us can live in goddamn mansions.”

The kid opens his mouth to retort, bristling with indignation, but Will interjects, stuttering a little in his haste, “I, um, I’d feel a little safer if everyone, you know, stayed in one place? At least for tonight?”

And that pretty much settles it.

Once everyone mumbles their (in some cases reluctant) agreement, El crows “Sleepover!” and drags Max off to find spare blankets, leaving Billy sitting on the couch alone and wondering where the hell Steve is gonna sleep. For...no particular reason...other than…

Well.

It’s not like Mike was wrong, the trailer wasn’t built to house six teenagers and two twenty-somethings. Most of them are going to end up squished on the living room floor, and Max and El already called dibs on the couch, and...well, unless Steve wants to crash in the fucking kitchen there really isn’t anywhere else for him to go other than Billy’s room. He doesn’t even have a goddamn tub the guy could curl up in.

And just because he’s wanted Steve Harrington in his bed since minute one, doesn’t mean he wants it right now. Not like this.

Because like this he has to deal with Max’s side-eye, and El’s knowing look (the girl has been in his head, she literally knows everything about him), and Will’s weird wide-eyed interest, and worst of all, Steve not doing this because he wants to.

In fact, judging by the way he blanches when Max suggests it, Billy’s room is the last place he’d like to be. Which is not really something Billy ever really wanted hard proof of, thanks.

He’s dealt with enough in his life, he didn’t need to know exactly how repulsive Steve finds the idea of sleeping in the same room as him.

“You’re welcome to sleep in your goddamn car if my floor isn’t good enough for you, Harrington,” he bites out, probably harsher than was warranted.

Steve blinks at him, mouth falling open, eyebrows raised.

“Oh my god, it’s too cold to sleep outside, Billy,” Max says, rolling her eyes. “Stop being such a dick.”

“Whatever,” he mutters. “Figure your shit out, I’m going to bed.”

The silence he leaves behind is tense and awkward.

He’s been laying in bed staring at the ceiling, moping and berating himself, for about ten minutes when the door creaks open.

“Hey, uh,” Steve’s voice is soft, uncertain, and Billy feels like even more of an asshole for snapping at him. “I’m just...gonna...crash on the floor. Um. Good night.”

This is punishment isn’t it. For being such a douche for so long. Now he gets to try and fall asleep knowing Steve fucking Harrington is laying nearby, sleepy and warm and out of reach. He listens to Steve shuffle around, getting situated, laying out blankets and trying to find a soft bit of carpet to lay on. Has to bite his tongue to keep from saying something stupid. Like offering up his bed. Or poking fun at how much Steve sighs when he’s getting comfortable (Because it’s dumb, not cute. Definitely not cute.).

It’s unclear how long they lay there in the dark, Billy watching moonlight cast the outlines of skeletal trees across the wall, listening to Steve’s quiet breathing to remind himself he’s not alone. That the shadows are just shadows and there’s no reason to be tense and sweating and—

Billy’s pretty sure it’s been long enough that Steve should be asleep, considering how tired he looked, so he tosses his blanket off and swipes the pack of cigarettes off his bedside table, hoping to god the floor doesn’t creak when he pads across the room. There’s no noise coming from the other room, so either the kids are asleep too or a miracle has occurred and they’re all just being really quiet.

He slips out the side door, and takes a breath. The lake is too still, despite the wind. No self-respecting body of water doesn’t have waves. But it’s pretty enough, he supposes. Enough to make for a decent view while he smokes a cigarette.

Takes a couple tries to light up. His hands aren’t what they used to be, especially in the cold. Holding off a thirty-foot meat puppet bare-handed does that to a person, tears shit up that doesn’t heal right afterwards.

He’s about halfway through his cig when Steve joins him. Billy’s shoulders stiffen at the sound of footsteps, and he doesn’t relax at all when he realizes who it is.

“Hey.”

Out of the corner of his eye Billy watches Steve lean against the porch railing beside him. He takes another drag before he looks over properly, keeping his expression as neutral as possible. “Fancy meeting you here.”

“Couldn’t sleep?”

Billy raises his eyebrows. Gestures with his cigarette and turns away again. “No shit.”

He can feel Steve’s eyes on him, and he resolutely ignores it. Stares out at the water and flicks cigarette ash over the railing. The wind picks up again and cuts through his thin shirt. Should’ve grabbed a fucking sweater. Not because the cold bothers him at all, but...well, because it doesn’t anymore.

He shivers when a completely-unrelated-to-the-weather chill runs down his spine.

“Soo…” Steve fidgets, and trails off awkwardly, his nonchalance painfully fake.

The corner of Billy’s mouth twitches, and he raises his cigarette to his lips, a flimsy excuse to hide his smile.

“Did, uh. Did El choose the book, or…?”

He chokes on a mouthful of smoke. Doc Owens did tell him he shouldn’t have taken up smoking again. Though he was probably more concerned about Billy’s scarred lungs and than Steve Harrington-related hazards.

Coughing definitely does hurt a lot more than it used to though.

He flinches when Steve touches his shoulder, pats it, rubs a little—trying to help with the coughing, presumably—making Billy’s heart trip over itself.

Once he’s no longer wheezing he wipes his eyes, and waves off Steve’s apologies, hoping the embarrassed flush on his cheeks isn’t too visible in the dim light.

Steve’s hand stays where it is.

For several quiet moments Billy waits for him to withdraw but he doesn’t, and Billy finally meets his eyes. Which was probably a mistake. His heart skips again. He’s still not used to Steve looking at him like that. Soft and wide-eyed and concerned and…

God, he’s so fucking beautiful. Billy used to dream about getting this close without needing pretense, without having to pretend, getting to bask in the warmth coming off him and feel his breath on his skin and see something other than indifference—or worse, the hatred that came later—looking back at him. What he has now is...not quite what he wants. It lights him up but leaves him wanting.

Another gust of wind makes a mess of Steve’s hair, locks falling into his eyes and sticking up in all directions, and Billy itches. Clenches his fist to stop himself from fixing it.

“Her dweeby little friends kept talking about it, and she couldn’t get through it herself. So...” Billy trails off, scratching his cheek and glancing away. “I may have had a copy laying around.”

Steve’s hand finally leaves its perch on his shoulder—both a disappointment and a relief—to brush the stray locks of hair out of his face. He grins at Billy, whole face lit up and stupidly pretty even as his fingers get stuck in tangles. “Really?”

“Yeah.” Billy bites the inside of his cheek. “My mom used to read it to me.”

It’s easier to talk about her now. Mostly with El, who’s still the only person who knows the full story, but, well, he’s pretty sure at least Max and Steve have guessed the bits they weren’t told. Or, hell, maybe El told everyone everything during those months he was out of commission and everyone thought he was dead, and no one’s brought it up to his face because it would be awkward as hell.

In any case, Steve’s expression softens.

“Oh,” he says quietly. “So, you and her were pretty close, huh?”

If asked Billy would have blamed the sudden sting of tears in his eyes on the wind. “I guess.” A pause. “Not enough for her to take me when she left,” he mumbles, chewing his thumbnail and frowning out at the lake.

His cigarette hangs between two fingers in his other hand.

“Billy…”

“Don’t. I’ve heard every condolence in the book, okay. It’s...it’s fine.”

For several long moments the only sounds are the dry rustle of leaves in the wind and Billy’s nail-biting.

Then Steve slips his fingers around Billy’s wrist and tugs gently. Too surprised to resist, Billy lets him. Lets his hand be pulled away from his face, thumb pressed to his pulsepoint, lets him hold on for a beat longer than necessary before letting go. And Billy stares at him the whole time, lips parted, shoulders tense, waiting to see what Steve will do next.

What he does next is smile a little sad, and tilt his head. “It’s a bad habit, you know. Biting your nails.”

“I don’t have any other kind of habit.”

“Hm,” Steve hums, “I don’t think that’s true.”

Which is a weird thing to say, and a weird thing to get emotional over, and yet Billy kind of feels like he’s been punched in the chest.

He rubs at the knotted scar tissue that spiderwebs across his whole torso, and can’t help but wonder—not for the first time—if Steve’s perception of him might be a little blinded by the one good thing he’s ever done. He’s tried to be better since then, atone a little, but Steve’s confidence in him still feels unearned.

And all the work he’s put into getting his shit together might all be for nothing anyways, if some fucking slime monster decides to crawl down his throat again. If Will’s right and that thing is back...for all he knows the thing has it out for him too, after the shit he pulled at Starcourt. He thought he’d end up dead, he wasn’t exactly worried about making himself a target in the long run.

But now...

Billy exhales slowly through his nose, eyes falling shut for a moment before he grits out, “I can’t do it again.” Steve blinks at him, nonplussed. “This,” he taps his scars, “The fucking. Mind Flayer bullshit. I can’t.”

“You…” Steve folds his arms across his stomach, hands clutching his elbows. It’s a nervous tic that makes Billy ache. Always makes his heart clench, but tonight that gets lost in the black hole of anxiety already twisting up his insides “You won’t have to, I—we’ll protect you. If we stick together—”

“It’s not a guarantee.”

“No, but—”

“We don’t know anything about this alien shit, for all we know I was never really free of it, and—I just—promise you won’t let it use me again,” Billy’s voice breaks, and he clenches his jaw to try and hold it all back, the taste of bile in the back of his throat, the crushing weight of existential panic pressing in.

Steve’s eyes widen, “What do you mean by that?”

“You know what I mean. Crash another car into me. Let your ex shoot me in the fucking head. I don’t care how, I need you to stop me.” He needs to understand, Billy’s eyes bore into him, willing him to understand.

But he shakes his head, face twisted up with horror, “I don’t think I can do that.”

Billy takes a step towards him, desperation bleeding into his voice, “Steve.” He blinks back tears. “Please.”

“Don’t—” Steve looks away, curling in on himself, “Don’t do that.”

“Do what, ask you to perform a public fucking service?” Billy spits, eyes stinging, face burning. He regrets the words once they’re spoken, but there’s no taking them back now. He’s talked with Owens about this sort of shit and he thought he was past it.

Apparently not.

He deflates. Like a slap in the face, it stops him dead, turns his agonizing back inward where it fucking belongs. Wiping his eyes, he sighs.

It’s too late to stop the puppy-dog eyes Steve’s giving him now though. The unreserved sadness in the way he’s looking at Billy is so overwhelming it’s almost palpable. “Is that really how you feel?”

Is it? He’s not sure anymore. It was for a long time. Long enough that he couldn’t remember feeling any other kind of way until El reminded him. But now…

He shrugs. “It’s...complicated. I—ah, shit!” His hand jerks, and the cigarette he’d been holding falls to the ground. That never used to hurt so fucking much. “Damn thing burnt me.”

He sucks on the stinging knuckle, waiting for the pain to subside, tasting salt and ash, and looks back up at Steve.

They lock eyes.

Steve’s expression has closed off, his gaze still heavy, but with something else, sliding down Billy’s face with an intensity Billy’s not quite sure what to make of. He’s struck dumb by the attention (not something he usually has a problem handling), lips still wrapped around his finger but his mouth has gone slack.

It feels like a static shock, one crackling jolt of a moment, something sharp lancing through him, and then it’s over. Steve’s blinking, glancing away. Billy’s hand falls to his side. It would be like it never happened except he still feels charged, pent up, heart full to bursting and stomach in knots.

Billy sighs, and rubs his eyes. “Let’s just...go back to bed.”

Wording, Billy. Wording. His cheeks warm a little, but he manages to keep his expression neutral as he turns and heads back inside.

He practically throws himself into his bed, curling up on his side and pulling the blankets around him, back turned to Steve. Sleep seems like a pipe dream at this point, but doing anything other than pretending to get some rest would involve talking to and/or looking at Steve, so. Not an option.

But after he listens to Steve settle back into his little pile of blankets, the minutes crawl by, and Billy gets twitchy. Wants so badly to move, toss and turn and fidget, and say something, but doesn’t know where to start and doesn’t want to draw Steve’s attention, and—

God, this is so fucking stupid.

Billy rolls over. “Steve.”

“Yeah?”

The room is silent for a beat. He shuffles around a little and the sheets rustle loudly in the quiet.

“Would you get up here,” he says suddenly, all at once, demanding, scarcely believing what the fuck is coming out of his mouth.

“...What?” Steve sounds a little breathless and it makes Billy’s stomach clench.

“Just...there’s enough room for both of us, alright.” Jesus christ.

The lump of Steve and blankets on the floor doesn’t move. He doesn’t speak, for what seems like an eternity, and Billy’s about to brush it off, turn it into a joke, take it back, something, when—

“Okay.”

Oh.

What?

Oh god, he’s getting up. This is happening. Billy stares at his silhouette, the tense line of his shoulders, his awkward gait, and wonders why he’s agreeing to this if he’s so goddamn uncomfortable.

Guess the floor is officially less comfortable than being in bed with Billy. Joy.

But then he’s sliding under the covers and Billy forgets to be bitter because his brain is mostly static at this point. White noise and his heartbeat thundering in his ears and the deafening creak of boxspring groaning under unexpected weight.

And Steve’s doing that thing again, sighing, little hums as he wiggles around getting himself situated, and Billy is dying. He thought he was being punished before, but now he’s sure, because this is ridiculous. No grown man should be that adorable.

By the time he’s gotten himself comfy Billy is about ready to combust.

It doesn’t help that he’s decided to lay down extremely close and facing Billy. It’s so intimate it hurts.

“Do you think you’ll actually sleep?”

Billy shrugs noncommittally. “Maybe.” He tries to make it sound more casual than it is. Like it’s a choice and not the sad fact that he’s too fucking anxious to relax.

Seems he’s not the only one though, Steve keeps fidgeting, his face doing something weird Billy can’t quite see in the gloom. But he doesn’t have to see to recognize Steve’s tics.

“Spit it out,” Billy sighs.

“What did you mean. When you said it’s complicated?” Steve asks softly.

Ah.

“You really wanna get into this?” He sure doesn’t, but Steve nods and Billy’s fucking weak when it comes to giving Steve what he wants. “I meant that...I...used to feel like that. All the time. It was fucking relentless.” He thinks about rolling onto his back so he won’t have to look at Steve for this, but finds himself stuck, drawn in by the faint starlight reflected in Steve’s eyes. “But nowadays I’ve got...shit to hang on for, I guess. Doesn’t make it all go away, but it makes it easier.”

“Oh.” Steve wriggles a little closer, his hand landing in the space between their pillows. Right next to Billy’s hand. Close enough that he can feel him there, but not quite touching.

He doesn’t say anything else, which Billy’s grateful for. He’s got Doc Owens for the big speeches about how life is worth living, and it’s grating enough getting them from someone who’s literal job is to say that kind of shit.

It helps. It does. But he can only handle so much.

Speaking of which.

“I’m sorry,” Billy says quietly. He’s keeping his hand too still for it to come across as casual, trembling with the effort. If he moved his pinky just a little they’d be touching, and he’s painfully aware of this fact.

“What for?”

“Earlier, when I...I was asking for a lot.”

“Oh.” Steve shifts, the blankets rustling as he shuffles around, but as much as he fidgets, his hand stays where it is. “Billy...I don’t want you to have to go through that again, but…”

Billy, on an impulse—with a feeling somewhat akin to stepping off a ledge without a parachute—hooks his pinky over Steve’s. In the dark he hears a soft intake of breath, can just barely make out the way Steve’s mouth falls open, moonlight casting shadows when his tongue darts out to lick his lips.

“I know. It wasn’t fair to—”

“No, no,” Steve flips his palm upward and laces their fingers together, squeezing Billy’s hand. “It’s not that. You have every right to be scared, and...look, this whole thing is batshit crazy, none of us know how to deal with it.”

Billy runs his thumb along the length of Steve’s index finger, marvelling at the contact, and the way his pulse flutters when the gesture is returned. It takes him a second to find his voice, “True, but you’ve never asked me to mercy kill you.”

Steve exhales, the ghost of a laugh, and it warms the back of Billy’s hand. He shivers, his whole arm tingling. “Billy, I haven’t gone through half the shit you have.” A pause. “I want to help. Anything you need, just...not that.”

Anything. It catches in Billy’s throat, stops his heart for just a second, reminds him that they’re inches apart, in bed together. For the second time tonight he feels like he’s been punched in the sternum, and he goes rigid, relaxing only minutely when Steve squeezes his hand again.

“Careful, pretty boy. Saying shit like that might give a guy ideas,” he murmurs, gaze searching, wandering Steve’s face, the shadows cast by the soft fall of hair across his forehead.

“Oh yeah?” Steve pulls their clasped hands to his chest. His heart is racing, but his voice is steady, “Well, have enough ideas with no follow-through and a guy might think you’re all talk.”

Billy’s breath catches. The world stops. “You...you don’t want me to follow through.”

The reality of the situation hits him like a train. Flirting is one thing, he’s always had a hard time keeping his mouth shut around Steve, but this is something he’d only ever regretted letting himself imagine because he knew he’d never have it. And now that it’s within reach...

“See, the thing is…” Steve slides a little closer. His knee brushes Billy’s thigh. “I really, really do.”

“I—” his voice breaks, mouth dry, throat closing up as he tries to swallow past the lump making it hard to breathe.

“Billy,” Steve whispers, a hot puff of air against Billy’s lips. “Please.”

Fuck.

He surges forward—hard enough that their teeth click together—and his mouth muffles Steve’s gasp. The hand not cradled against Steve’s chest comes up to touch his cheek, fingertips caressing his jaw, coaxing him closer, sliding back to thread into his hair.

Steve’s lips are plush and warm against his, curved into a smile that leaves Billy tingling, dizzy and drunk on sensations. The way his mouth tastes, the softness of his skin under Billy’s scarred palm, the way his heart twists when Steve reaches out to touch his chest.

He pulls back, and rests his forehead against Steve’s. His eyes stay shut and he just breathes. Soaks up the moment.

“God,” Steve sighs, nuzzling their noses together. “Always knew you’d be good at that.”

“Yeah?” Billy asks quietly, fiddling with the stray locks of hair behind Steve’s ear. He’s feeling...raw. Vulnerable. It’s a fragile state of being, one wrong word away from breaking. Or a few right words away from fucking bliss, but that never seems to be how it goes for him.

“Yeah, even when we didn’t like each other I wondered. Annoyed the hell outta me.”

“Steve…” He pauses, choosing his words carefully, “I always liked you.” If his heart wasn’t already racing, it sure would be now. He braces himself for the worst.

But it doesn’t come. There’s a pause. Steve’s fingers curl into the front of his shirt. “Oh.” He presses a chaste kiss to Billy’s lips, lingering, before chuckling lightly. “That explains a lot actually.”

Billy’s cheeks burn. Yeah, he supposes it would. “You’re not...freaked out?” he ventures, hesitant.

“Mm, nope.” He reaches up, brushes a stray curl out of Billy’s face. “Definitely okay with this.”

I love you.

The thought doesn’t shock him but the desire to say it out loud does. The way it lodges itself in his throat and sticks. He hasn’t said it to anyone—hasn’t wanted to say it to anyone—since his mother left. The precedent is intimidating, but…

Steve smells like honey and clean air, laying in bed with Billy, warm and pliant next to him tracing patterns in Billy’s scars, his gaze is fond, his smile is soft, and...and Billy’s in love.

He swallows. Pushes it down for now.

He kisses Steve again. Slower. A gentle press of mouths, and another. Takes his time deepening it, teasing with his tongue. He waits for Steve to pull away, to decide that this thing is one thing too far, but it never happens. Steve lets him escalate, and gives as good as he gets.

They’re both breathless and flushed and Billy’s riding high on the bubbling warmth in his chest, lightheaded from it. He slides his leg over Steve’s, straddling his thigh, pressing down, seeking friction.

He shifts, rocking forward a little, and Steve moans, low and deep right in Billy’s ear.

They both freeze. Steve’s breath coming in ragged little bursts against the side of Billy’s face.

“Pretty boy, as much as I’d love to hear more of that, no one else in the house does.”

“Jesus christ.”

“No need to bring him into it.”

“Shut up,” Steve laughs and buries his face in Billy’s shoulder. “Just give me a minute.”

“Aw, I get you all riled up, baby?”

Steve slides a hand down, down, and palms Billy’s cock, drawing a short gasp from him. “Yes.”

They stay entangled the rest of the night, dozing in and out of consciousness, Steve pressing the occasional sleepy kiss to Billy’s collarbone. And...Billy’s not sure what will happen after tonight, but he knows it’ll be easier to deal with if he gets to keep this. Whatever this is. He doesn’t have the heart to ask, not yet, but for the first time in a while, he has hope.

#steve harrington #harringrove #billy hargrove #stranger things #harringrove ficlet #harringrove fic #a raven's writing desk

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danwhobrowses · 4 years ago

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One Piece Chapter 1000 - Initial Thoughts

We are Finally Here.

Not quite Christmas Day but still in Xmas Weekend so I’ll take it, but we are now at the 1000th Chapter of One Piece, a herculean testament not only to Oda’s dedication to his story but long term storytelling itself on a mostly weekly manga

The Wano story rages on and it will continue beyond 1000 but for now

This Party’s Getting Crazy, Let’s Rock

Spoilers for Chapter 1000, obviously, support the Official Release as well

Sadly I can’t gush about the Color Spread yet because this is fan translations (and a bit rough around the edges) but I’m sure come Jan 4th it’ll be great, hopefully Viz will do the full one and not one that’s rotated 90 degrees like 999′s half was

Also the title, Straw Hat Luffy. We have gone this long without a chapter titled after Luffy

Shishilian and the minks are still alive, ready to let Luffy pass, looks like Jack will be spared a Blueno moment, though he still could come up against Brook and Robin or Yamato

I wonder what significance Shishilian’s tears are, is it regret, grief, mourning? Did he not go full power? Also what’s happening with Carrot? I miss her!

WTF is with Queen’s neck? First tongue guns and now it’s like a wired neck? How cyborg is this dude?

But Marco’s out here handling King AND Queen right now! No flies on our Pineapple

Though they say they can’t hit him, is...haki not a thing with these guys? Or is there supposed to be some unwritten law that you can’t use Haki against certain opponents?

Zoro’s bad run with birds continues, he’s been hoisted, dropped and now thrown XD at least it’s in the right direction

Yamato’s smiles are very sweet...but I still don’t think he’s joining the crew, he has to follow his own path

But now Momo has Oden’s journal, could that be used as a bargaining tool? What would Roger had thought about Oden pouring a lot of Laugh Tale secrets into it?

Someone protected the logbook? Who? They say by the river so maybe Kawamatsu? Maybe Toki threw it out? Or maybe someone else was in Oden Castle at that time

Looks like Law’s done with his sneakies, bout to Shambles up there...where’s the rest of his crew though?

Ah more of Ace drinking his ‘Gush about Luffy’ juice, with a side sprinkle of Sabo mentions, isn’t it sweet to see?

And the fact that he wholeheartedly believes in Luffy’s dream, I wonder what that would mean for his plans to make Whitebeard King, was it to be a seat warmer?

Yamato screaming to Ace holding Oden’s Journal high should be a meme

Ace completely unaware that he’s just approved of something about his dad and wanted to share a drink with him

And wow, Yamato made Ace’s vivre card! That’s some deep cut, and explains how Yamato knew of Ace’s death, he uses the same line Ace uses to Luffy when he gives him his card as well I thnk

Finally, we make it to the top!

Look at Killer not getting the fashion memo of dark silhouettes

Lots of eye shifting going on though, Law looks kinda pissed

God that hero pose though, what’s with the threefold sound focus on Luffy’s feet though?

‘That little abortion’ - uh, little far Linlin...

‘He destroyed my castle, you owe me an apology’ - maybe when you apologize for blackmailing and trying to murder his cook, he’ll think about it. Though I do have a humorous thought of Luffy just going ‘oh yeah, sorry bout your cake’ and BM just switching like ‘huh...okay yeah we’re even, I’m gonna bounce, later fishcakes’

When Luffy isn’t paying attention to you in a main fight, this is the moment you have to say your prayers, because he’s seen something far beyond you

The Akazaya are beaten, but it doesn’t look like they’re dead yet, though it could just be Kin’emon, it is a sad sight to see

You know Luffy kicks into gear the moment he’s been asked for help, that just stacks it for him

Law did at least move the Akazaya, though they keep hiding his face a little

In missing, Kaido’s made another hole in the roof, wonder how that will turn out?

RED ROCK

Aside from the name being a combination of Red Hawk, Rocks Pirates and probably a new naming for the Ryou enhancement, that thing hit Kaido hard! It also becomes a cyclic moment since the first thing Luffy hit Kaido with was a Gear Third attack

Big Mom is shook, they both see Roger in him now, no more talking down at him

Because this is not Roger. This is Monkey D. Luffy, and he will become King of the Pirates

The biggest criticism I can give a chapter like this is that there’s not more of it, we need to see more! Granted, this was primarily set up for Luffy and co to stand down Kaido and BM, so we still have much to cover but I do feel as though that’s by design. As much as we have hyped Chapter 1000, One Piece doesn’t end there, there is still much of Wano to cover. Which leads to a sobering thought, we’re still not done with this act yet, and a tragedy is yet to happen. Oda’s making Law look very shifty too and BM didn’t involve herself in the fight. This battle is far from over, this is simply a wake-up call for Kaido, what will happen when Kaido starts enjoying the pain?

But for the chapter itself, it was brilliant, more questions sure but with the hype and gravitas surrounding a 1000th Chapter Oda once again never failed to disappoint, the Will of Goda continues and will continue to continue continuing in its continuation.

1001 will likely begin in the new year, until then, Merry Christmas and a Happy 1000th

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sepublic · 4 years ago

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You know, I've seen plenty of great ideas for Amphibia x TOH swaps, but there's one thing I haven't seen anyone point out yet. If Luz takes Anne's place and goes to Amphibia, then she gets something she's always wanted at the start of TOH: Being part of a prophecy.

…That is, a VERY interesting concept, not gonna lie!

The thing about Luz’s fundamental issues prior to meeting Eda was… She really had a problem with distinguishing fantasy from reality, learning to set the boundaries between the two, and fully respect said boundaries. She wasn’t malicious of course, but regardless…

This is an interesting ask because we don’t know yet how the prophecy will unfold and be revealed within the show, or even its exact nature! But regardless, this is making me imagine Luz meeting the Plantars, and… Really, I can see Hop Pop’s more down-to-earth nature helping Luz learn to distinguish fantasy from reality, to an extent. Especially since Hop Pop himself is lowkey like Luz in that they’re very unorthodox heroes who don’t quite save the day the way they expected to; But their methods are –usually- valid. Such as Hop Pop accidentally inspiring a revolution among the Frogs, or that time he served as a martyr for those tiny frogs, with his mistreatment by the Hasslebacks being the final injustice that pushes them to fight back and defend themselves, without having to rely on any outsiders to do the work for them. Then there’s him projecting a Noir Film onto his search for Sal, to the point where he straight-up kills an innocent man…

And, that’s making me imagine Luz and Hop Pop kind of bonding over this (not the murder though), especially with Hop Pop’s failed dreams of becoming an actor. I can see Luz being pretty sympathetic and a lot more involved in Hop Pop’s stint with Renee Frodgers, a lot more than Anne did- And considering we see her try out for Romeo and Juliet at one point, maybe she also has a taste for theater herself! Not to mention, all of this discussion of confusing fantasy with reality is just reminding me of Marcy… Specifically, the speculation of Marcy low-key seeing her time in Amphibia as more like a videogame with its tropes, to a potentially harmful extent as she might not treat this situation as a very real one with actual stakes and living, breathing people.

Of course, the thing to remember is- Luz takes a lot of initiative in her own character development, too! She’s a receptive person and self-reflects. I feel like even if she never met Eda, it wouldn’t have been out of the question for Luz to still resolve her own issues… It’d have just been a much more difficult and tedious journey, especially if Luz had to go through that Reality Camp. But regardless, when you remember that Hop Pop also goes through similar character development, albeit more around the Season 2 timeframe… With Hop Pop making the conscious decision on his own to call out Renee on her thievery, without Anne nor any circumstances goading him into it, because he’s a very moral character at heart…

Maybe Luz could have issues like Marcy. It’s worth considering if Andrias is manipulating and feeding into Marcy’s dreams. But regardless, I see Luz and Hop Pop working together, mutually, to get past their own issues, well before the prophecy is revealed- And we still don’t know when that’s going to happen! Maybe Luz and Hop Pop could be a duo reminiscent to Luz and King during Sense and Insensitivity. I can’t say for sure if Luz’s character development will be as potent by the prophecy’s reveal, as she is as of the Season Finale in HER show… I think Eda is ultimately a wiser character than Hop Pop, and characters like Willow and Amity serve as neat narrative contrasts/foils to Luz’s own antics. Though, I can imagine Luz getting caught up in shipping Sprig and Ivy, and possibly the fallout of this leading to a lesson or two…

But in the end, as I said- Luz has a good heart, and she goes around to do the right thing, in the end. She’s like Hop Pop in that regard, and of course there’s also the existence of Sprig and Polly, not to mention what a fellow weirdo like One-Eyed Wally might have to say, here or there. I guess a lot of it depends on the exact context of how this prophecy is revealed, and how it even works… But I see Luz as being grounded by the more down-to-earth Wartwood, well before she gets to Newtopia. This does raise the interesting idea of her possibly backtracking on her character development, especially with Marcy’s influence and Andrias’ potential manipulations…

And yet, I can see Luz still turning around to do the right in the end, just as Hop Pop did; Even when his dreams DID come true, and he became a renowned actor! I think Luz would come to the conclusion that even being ‘chosen’ by some divine force doesn’t really make her any better than anyone else… Not to mention that the people and world she’s saving is still very much its own thing, not beholden to her. So I see Luz accepting the mantle of being a hero, if only because she’s a good person and of course she’s not going to let something bad happen… And I can imagine the Plantars helping to gently nudge and remind Luz of her past lessons, to not get confused with fantasy and reality again. The prophecy would definitely be a twist antithetical and contradictory to Luz’s character development, given how she’s being transplanted into a different show with different themes, originally intended for a different protagonist…

But, if Marcy is going to learn her lesson and get past her own issues –assuming those specific issues ARE a thing of course- then I can see Luz being a guiding light and force for her… Maybe the two mutually navigate past potential delusions together, who knows? I’ve speculated in the past how Luz would handle the revelation of having powerful magical heritage... How Luz would truly show off her character development by rejecting even this seemingly objective, tangible cosmic reason for her being special, and still asserting her equal standing with everyone else. Even when placed on top of the hierarchy, Luz rejects it, showing how much her lessons mean to her. I can see Andrias trying to set Luz up to agree with his hierarchy under that concept of divinely-ordained ‘specialness’, and how it’d all just tie into Luz working to abolish the caste system with Hop Pop.

I can see it being a contrast to Sasha and Grime, who want to topple the current Newt Hierarchy… More than likely, so they can switch it around with Toads on the top. Not exactly the most helpful change, in the end… Luz decides that instead of reversing the roles, it’s best to just get rid of the roles entirely. It could play into a discussion of privilege, and it’d be interesting to see how Luz, Marcy, and Sasha would all bounce off of one another- Sasha low-key has her issues with dismissing the people of Amphibia, and once talked about ‘having fun’ there. Obviously her respect for Grime has changed this a lot… But there’s still that willingness to conquer what she fully recognizes now as an actual civilization of people. She would certainly take the revelation of a prophecy as full justification that she was never wrong about anything, and that Sasha is of course entitled to taking over Amphibia- Especially if Grime feeds into this both out of genuine support and his own desires.

Then there’s that idea of Sasha and Grime enabling one another to be worse, even if they also still go through a little bit of positive character development… And as for Marcy and Andrias, I can’t quite say because the latter is still quite the enigma. Either way, Luz has to serve as a grounding force for the other girls with Hop Pop’s help… And really, it sounds like the set-up for total chaos, a battle royal, a complete free-for-all with every Amphibian and Human for themselves as they navigate one another amidst the backdrop of this prophecy. If we want to apply Luz’s motif and themes of being a guiding light for other characters in her own show, I can see her forcing Sasha and Marcy to confront the reality of what they’re doing… And I think interactions between her and Grime would be fascinating, as she’d be VERY much in favor of toppling the monarchy- But specifically to undo the hierarchy entirely, instead of switching it around to the Toads’ favor. If Sasha and Grime enable one another, perhaps Luz will have to act as a voice of reason and buffer between the two- And again, it depends on how Sasha and Grime’s character development goes.

Overall, this sounds like QUITE the debacle, and I’m kind of fascinated, imagining how these different characters with different motifs, meant to be compatible with narrative parallels and contrasts, amidst the themes of their particular show; And how they’d adapt and fit into another show’s cast and themes! Anne taking Luz’s place in the Boiling Isles would be interesting, given how Anne has clearly internalized Sasha’s idea of ‘knowing what’s best for someone you care about’, and how this seems to be a recurring trend amongst people like Emira and Edric toward Amity, Lilith with Eda, etc. And, I guess I could go into a whole ‘nother discussion of how Eda has to help Anne recover from this low-key abuse and toxicity, and Anne having a similar moment of standing up to Sasha with those characters, possibly citing her own experiences… But, that’s probably a discussion for another time, I think. I guess it depends if I have the time and energy for it, and my cyclical focus aligns just right…

#the owl house #owl house #amphibia #the owl house luz #luz noceda #amphibia hop pop #hopediah plantar #speculation #meta #ask

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zwowow · 4 years ago

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#7 please!

7. “That is the dumbest excuse I have ever heard!”

"Let's make it Instagram official!" Kells laughs as holds his phone above them in bed and lines up the shot. Em snaps his head up and off of his chest and looks back at him, horrified. He wasn't serious, would never post anything Em didn't want out there, but the way he looked at him just then broke his fucking heart.

"You know I'm playin', right?" He says cautiously, the fun snuffed out of him. He doesn't even know why he keeps doing this. He just gets hurt every time. If he makes a joke about them coming out, Em shuts it down. If he tries to get his boyfriend to take it seriously, Em still shuts him down.

At what point is he going to stop wondering when Em will be ready to at least talk about it, and just force him to listen and consider it? Or the alternative, at what point is he going to realize Em will simply never be ready to have the conversation because he won't ever be ready to come out? Kells refuses to even think it's the second one.

"You play too much." Em grumbles, but lays his head back down on Kells' chest. Despite being annoyed at him, Kells wraps an arm around Em and pulls him close.

"I'd stop playing if you'd just fucking talk about it." Em stiffens beneath his arm.

"Talk about what?" Kells scoffs at Em's feigned ignorance. He always does it. Kells could probably guess Em's next words in this repeated conversation.

"If you'd just talk about coming out. We've been together a while, at some point I'd like to be able to go out with you with more than one other person there." I want that too.

"You know I want that too." It's like there are cue cards over each of their heads, Kells sighs and plays his role.

"Then why haven't we done it? Why haven't we at least, I don't know, talked about it?" We can't right now.

"We can't right now." The short conversation is so cyclical, Kells knows they're reaching the end of it. But he doesn't want to let it go tonight. He needs to talk to Em at the very least so that he can set real expectations instead of living on a rollercoaster of hope and disappointment.

"Then when?" He tightens his arm around Em's stiff body to remind. He pleads with his body and voice. Still, he knows what comes next, the inevitable last word.

"I don't know, Kells." Em sounds so sad that Kells wants to back off like he always does. He wants Em to relax into him and fall asleep to the sound of his breathing. Unfortunately, he knows he won’t be able to sleep tonight unless he actually gets Em to talk about this. Tonight, he’s changing up the script.

“Just give me a time. We’ll talk on Monday, we’ll come out two months from now, whatever the fuck you want. Em please, I need something.”

“Why are you pushing this?” Em breaks free of his grasp and sits up. There is a hard edge in his voice, a warning not to keep pushing. Kells can’t help it, that’s what he’s always done with Em, push him a little too far.

“Why are you trying so hard to avoid it? What’s the worst that comes from letting people know about us?”

“It could ruin our fucking lives, our careers. How do you not understand that? Do you really not fucking get how much our careers will change if this comes out?”

"That is just the dumbest excuse I've ever heard." Kells let out a wry laugh and shakes his head. Em's career? His millions of die hard fans that have religiously bought every album for twenty years, that ride his dick harder than Kells ever could? His career riddled with homophobic language that if they did come out would just serve as evidence of internalized hatred and make him a sympathetic victim of fucking ‘society’? His albums that go to number one regardless of quality or promo because of course they do, it’s a fucking Eminem album? His career? That's bullshit.

“You could run over a dog or some sick shit and you’d still go platinum. Do you really think you’re suddenly gonna flop when people find out you suck dick?”

“It’s not about sales. I don’t want to be a fucking novelty again. You came up later, but when I was starting I couldn’t escape just being a white rapper. No matter how good my shit was, how hard my bars were, it was always good for a white boy. My songs were white, my albums were white, that’s all I fucking was: white. You know that the minute people know about this it’s going to happen again. Fuckin’ ‘best gay rapper’ headlines and Glaad awards for fuckin’ gay pride. I don’t want that shit.”

Colson knows how that feels. Yeah, he’d come up after Em kind of changed the game for white rappers, but he’d been through the same shit, the othering. The difference between him and Em though, is that, in his opinion, coming out would be worth it.

“Don’t you think you could get over that, to be honest with everybody?” Kells doesn’t understand Em. He doesn’t understand why it’s even a question.

“Why the fuck would I want to be honest with people? It’s nobody’s business who I’m fucking.” He’s has known the entire time they’ve been together that Em likes to keep people out. But he’d thought Em would eventually come around to the idea that, if nothing else, Kells was important enough to let go of a bit of that privacy.

Now he knows the full truth. Em doesn’t want to answer questions about them being together, he won’t want to talk about being queer, and he refuses to be tokenized as a ‘gay rapper’. But if they come out, those things would be inevitable.

Kells looks at Em, at the hard lines of his face, and realizes something he’s been avoiding for months.

“Will anything ever make it worth it to come out to you?”

Em’s silence is enough of an answer. Kells supposes, his avoidance and his insistence that he didn’t want to talk about it were also answers he chose to ignore.

Em may be content to stay in the closet, to stay hidden and isolated, an island of two, but Kells isn’t. He doesn’t think he ever will be, just like Em doesn’t think he’ll ever be ready to come out.

“If you really don’t think so, I don’t think I can stay.”

Kells swallows. Em stares at him. Kells stares back. Em swallows.

“You should probably go, then.”

#emgk #zwowfic #angst prompt #a wittle breakup anyone?#thx for ze ask

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stereogeekspodcast · 4 years ago

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[Transcript] Season 2, Episode 2. Stereo Geeks Special: The CW’s Walker

We can't believe we're saying it, but we've enjoyed the first six episodes of The CW's Walker. What is this reboot of the 90s action show doing that's so unexpected and downright subversive? In this spoiler-free review of the first half of the opening season, the Stereo Geeks duo dive into why we're loving the show and why you should give it a try.

Walker promo image courtesy The CW.

Listen to the episode on Anchor.

Ron: Welcome to a new Stereo Geeks Special! In this episode we’ll be reviewing the first 6 episodes of The CW’s Walker.

I’m Ron.

Mon: And I’m Mon. Please note that this is a spoiler-filled review so if you haven’t caught up with the first 6 episodes, please watch them and return to our podcast!

[Continuum by Audionautix plays]

Ron: This show is adapted from the 1993 series, Walker, Texas Ranger. It was conceived by Jared Padalecki, and Anna Fricke is the showrunner. There are numerous women writing and directing the episodes. Despite the source material, this show is surprisingly subversive with regards to masculinity, gender roles, and race.

Mon: The original Walker, Texas Ranger TV show aired in the 90s, with Chuck Norris in the lead. The show was also inspired by a Chuck Norris film from the 1980s. So, as you can imagine, it was a punch-fest. Now we can't really attest to that, because we never saw it. We only ever caught the trailers on TV.

I have to say when you and I launched this podcast, I don't think we would have imagined that we would have even watched a single episode of the Walker reboot, forget actually dedicating an entire special to it. But here we are!

Ron: Well, I think part of the reason why we're actually talking about the show is because of Jared Padalecki. As Sam Winchester on Supernatural for 15 years, Padalecki has wormed his way into a lot of hearts.

But Walker is nothing like Supernatural and Cordell Walker, Jared Padalecki’s character on the show—yeah, he is no Sam Winchester.

Mon: The first episode really had me worried. It started off with a female character being fridged, and the entire storyline was confusing. Do you remember how many times I turned to you and said ‘I'm so confused. I'm so confused.’?

You were introduced to every character, and seemingly every character dynamic as well. All of that in the first 45 minutes. It was too much, and it was too messy. But the end of the episode really made us want to come back. And I think the success of this show really lies in the fact that every episode makes us want to come back and meet these characters, find out what they're doing and how are they surviving.

So, who are the characters?

Ron: As we’ve already mentioned, we have Jared Padalecki as Cordell Walker, the titular Texas Ranger. Alongside Cordell is his partner in crime—or in law enforcement— Lindsey Morgan’s Micki Ramirez. She is the first female Texas Ranger, and the first Latina Texas Ranger in the show.

Cordell’s wife, who we meet briefly in the first episode, and she returns in flashbacks in subsequent episodes, is Emily, played by Jared Padalecki’s real life wife Genevieve Padalecki. And fun fact, Jared and Genevieve met during Supernatural.

Keeping it in the Supernatural family, we have, Mitch Pileggi, playing Bonham, Cordell’s father. As Supernatural fans will remember. Mitch Pileggi played Sam and Dean's grandfather, Samuel Campbell in Supernatural.

We also meet Cordell’s mother, his children, his brother—who's also the ADA. And we also meet Coby Bell’s, Larry James, who is Cordell and Micki's captain, and has been Cordell’s long-suffering friend. There are several other characters that we meet as well. And all this happens in the first episode, so as you can imagine, it's a bit clunky.

From episode 2 onwards, it seems like they have a bit more focus. You don't have to meet every single character; they come in from time to time when they're needed in the story. And I think, overall, that kind of helped our connection with the show.

Not having watched the original, we don't really have a bouncing off point, but we do know that there was a lot of action, not much on the drama, not much on the emotions—there wasn't much human connection. I think a lot of people were hoping that they would just get something like that with this show. But Walker isn’t like that.

From the first episode onwards, it works really hard to balance the police procedural side with the family drama and dynamics. And six episodes in, I think it’s done a pretty good job.

Mon: It's been really successful in bringing these two rather disparate angles together. And what it does very well is to structurally interweave these two parallel storylines. We go from the investigation to the family drama and then we go back again, and it's not cyclical, as much as it is interwoven. And that structurally makes the episodes very interesting to watch.

Ron: But more importantly, the way they’ve balanced these two sides of Cordell’s life is actually pivotal to how the show proceeds, because Cordell is a single father now. He doesn't do a very good job of just being a Ranger, or just being a dad, and he's at the point where he's trying to figure out how to do those together. And it's actually quite amusing when you're watching it because you're like, ‘shouldn't you be with your kids right now?’ And then other times you're like ‘don’t you have a job to do?’

Mon: I feel like it's really important for us to see both these sides, not only of Cordell, but also of Micki, because it's always great to see how the job impacts the characters’ family dynamics, and the other way around. Because if you're being pulled out of your investigation because your kid did something ridiculous, or you're abandoning some kind of family trip because there's another bad guy on the loose, there will be explosions somewhere or the other. And it just makes it more relatable.

Also, we might be seeing some new pattern in The CW shows because Superman & Lois is doing something similar, right? And so's Black Lightning. They're constantly trying to show us what it's like to be a working parent. But since this is The CW, the working parents can’t just go into some office job— their office job happens to be being a Texas Ranger, or being superhero.

Ron: And that's really the crux of the show. So maybe that's why people aren't enjoying it because it isn't just, you know, fisticuffs and guns. This show is very much about subverting toxic masculinity. Walker isn’t pure as driven snow, he's definitely layered and tortured, and he does things that are questionable. But the important thing is that Micki, and the people around him, call him out on it. I especially love that about episode 6—which is fresh in our minds because we just saw it—but it's not something you see often.

Mon: I feel like in the pilot episode they kind of leaned in towards what people would have expected of Walker, being a reboot of the original Walker, Texas Ranger show. But it doesn't pan out like that, because as you said, toxic masculinity is nowhere over here.

But there are consequences to the actions that Walker takes in the pilot episode, which we see in episode 6, and that is a nuance that you need in the 21st century. We have moved beyond just watching people beat other people up. We need to know that there are people behind those fists, and that's what we’re finding out.

Ron: We started watching the show because Jared Padalecki was in it. But according to my research, Padalecki has been thinking about the show for a while.

Mon: I've been hearing about his name attached to a Walker reboot for a long time. And the only reason I think it finally got the green light is because Supernatural was announced to be coming to an end in 2020. It's been on hold for a while.

Ron: It's funny because in the initial concept apparently Padalecki was going to produce the show, and the Jensen Ackles who's going to be stepping in as Walker. [laughs]

Mon: I can see that. But you know, Ackles would have brought a kind of swagger that this version of Cordell Walker doesn't need. And I think it would have changed the dynamic a lot.

Ron: I totally agree with that, especially because Padalecki seems to have got the idea from reading a story about a policeman who walked away from his duties because he did not want to continue separating children from their parents, just because they were immigrants.

Mon: Wow.

Ron: Yeah.

Mon: That explains the undertone throughout.

Ron: Exactly.

Mon: We can't tell you too much…

Ron: …but it's what have you read that.

I'm actually very curious to see where this first season goes, because that kind of story is playing a certain part in this. We've seen it pop up quite a bit just in these first six episodes. Will they take it forward? How far will they go with that? Not sure.

Mon: It will be a bold move to really tackle immigration, immigrant problems, head on in a show like Walker. This is why we need a blank canvas. You do a reboot, you do something different. You bring it to the 21st century.

Ron: According to Padalecki’s interview with Variety, this is what we said: This is not a show about a martial artist kicking minorities in the face; this is a show about a legit Texan saying, ‘Hey, I need to hear the whole story before I make a decision.’ So this version is less about what goes through somebody’s fists and feet, and more about what goes through somebody’s head and heart.”

We've definitely seen that in the first six episodes, and following the events of the sixth episode, I think we're gonna see a lot more of that.

Mon: Exactly. They're not being completely in your face about immigrants and minority communities, how they're treated and the issues that they face, but that's definitely there.

Ron: So one of my concerns when I started watching the pilot episode was that, oh, we have a white family at the center of the story. The problem with having a completely white family is that everybody around them is also white, but this show doesn't do that.

For one, Micki, who is Cordell’s partner has a massive role; she's basically the second lead. We also have Captain James played by Coby Bell, who is a Black man, and he is trying to make a difference in his department. The Walker showrunner, Anna Fricke spoke to Variety about the characters of colour on the show: “This was always supposed to be a show that was set up to have conversations on both sides of the fence and that Walker is a character that can see things both ways — we call him the edge of the coin. We realized that unwittingly we were set up to have those conversations in the characters of Captain James, who is a Black man, and in Walker’s new partner, who is a Latinx woman.”

So, she went on to talk about the pilot episode especially, because it did get delayed in production. So they went back to the writers room, and they worked on a few things. So this is what she had to say about how the pilot was changed slightly to reflect the circumstances of 2020. “Given that we had the extra time, we tweaked the pilot slightly in that Captain James, as a newer captain who was promoted while Walker was gone on a case, is really here on a mission to bring progress into the department and to keep an eye on corruption.”

Now considering everything that we have seen in 2020 and the police violence that has been, well, it's been there in the US for a long time, but in 2020, it's just—you couldn't avoid it. So, the Black Lives Matter movement definitely had an impact on the show. I'm kind of surprised that there aren't other shows that are following the same example. 2020 threw everything out of balance, but writers rooms had the opportunity to really absorb everything that was happening around them. I like the fact that the Walker team went back and said, ‘You know what we can do something, we can show what's happening in the real world through our show’. And that's why, I guess, we’ve seeing so much of the subversion.

I think what we’ve seen till now is only a taste of what's to come, really.

Mon: Oh, I agree with you. Listening to what Anna Fricke had to say about Captain James, I want to see more of that, because right now, he's almost comic relief—which I love, I really love that about him. But you can tell that there is a serious story and a serious character simmering beneath what is seen.

And this is a really clever move by the writers room so far. They are going with the easy route—family drama and investigation, but they're slipping in these moments which are making you think, which are bringing the reality of the world into the fantasy of the show.

In the first episode, Micki highlights some of the racism that she's had to overcome to be a Texas Ranger. In episode two, Stella, Cordell’s daughter, she acknowledges her white privilege and how it lets her off the hook, but not her Latinx friend.

And throughout, we see the same thing—a person of color is accused of killing his boss. Did he really do it? This seems too easy; it's constantly happening in every episode. It's a pattern. And I feel like it is crescendoing to something major. Is it going to be a realization of just how harmful some of the Texas Rangers’ actions are in the real world? Or is it going to be something different? We don't know.

Ron: Whatever we've learned so far about the show is making me question why they've kept the name of the show, just Walker.

Mon: Ooooo. Good point.

Ron: Especially now that we know what the inspiration for the show was for Jared Padalecki. Hmmm.

Mon: Wow, that’s really making me think.

I really like how refreshing this show is. It could have just been an easy reboot; they could have just cruise controlled throughout the entire story. It could have been about guy loses his wife, he's drunk, he meets new partner, they build a romance, kids go on living their life—none of that is happening so far. There are real questions being asked here, and it's thought provoking.

It's entertaining but it's also thought provoking. And I like that; that's a good mix. I mean let's be honest, when you cast Jared Padalecki as Cordell Walker, you know you're going to get a different kind of hero. He's not just going to be broody. He's not just going to be an Action Man; there's going to be layers. And that's what we get.

He definitely comes across as somebody who is burdened by his loss. He's also a little bit arrogant, but he's coming to terms with the fact that he has made mistakes in his life; he's constantly continuing to make mistakes, and he has to address those. But he's also funny; because like, he's a real person.

He'll suddenly act out not realizing the consequences, or he'll say something because he got excited. He is so normal. And I really liked that because there are these instances of comic relief and you're like, ‘that came out of nowhere, but I really needed that’.

Ron: It's funny because we’ve kept mentioning how we watched the show because of Jared Padalecki and how, because he was Sam Winchester, it was just a natural progression. But watching Walker, I'm not getting anything of Sam Winchester. I'm commending Jared Padalecki for his performance because Sam Winchester was last year, Walker is just a few months later.

The person that Sam Winchester was, was kind of young, needed direction, always turned to his older brother. Walker isn't like that. Cordell is a grownass man with teenage children. Somehow I just can't get over that

Mon: And the fact that Sam Winchester was such a rule follower, whereas Cordell’s middle name is basically rule breaker. I just really like that. I mean, we know that an actor is supposed to be able to disappear into new roles, but it's always funny when you go from 15 years as one person and then suddenly he's just living in the boots of Cordell Walker.

Despite that, I have to say that the performances throughout are very The CW. Either people are speaking rather staccato, or they're a little bit singy-songy and melodious. I feel like they need to up the ante a little bit, because this kind of show, with its drama and its family dynamics, it requires a little bit more nuance. But it hasn't really affected how I enjoy the show.

Ron: I think for the most part, Jared Padalecki and Lindsey Morgan are doing a very good job. I love the chemistry between the two characters, they feel like their partners, and it makes it really fun to watch. The parents, played by Mitch Pileggi and Molly Hagan, that's a dynamic that I'm very interested in watching more of. I don't know where they're going with it, but it's not what I expected.

Mon: I feel like they’re teetering on the brink of being a soap opera with Abeline and Bonham, but they're constantly restraining, so I want to know what they're planning to do with them. Because I feel like Bonham, especially, he's changed since the pilot. He's not the person who we were introduced to during the pilot episode, and that's a good thing because I didn't like that guy. With Abeline, she's a very different kind of character, and I almost feel like she's an antihero,

Ron: Or is it Bonham who the antihero?

Mon: Oooooo

Ron: There is some tension between these two characters. We aren't given much information. They’re eking it out for the audience, and it's so unexpected. Every time they come on screen I'm just like, ‘What is going on what is happening with these two?’ Sometimes they're happy to be together, a lot of times they're not. I feel like we're gonna get to know something which is gonna change how we watch the show.

When it comes to acting, I think the young ones, Violet Brinson, who play Stella, and Kale Culley, who plays August, they've taken some time to settle into their roles. It's one of the same problems that we kind of have with Superman & Lois, where Superman and Lois are great to watch, but the children? Not so much.

Mon: Yeah, I would say the weakest link in the show is definitely Stella and August, especially August. I feel like they want to do something with this character, but he's just been left behind. With Stella, she's almost the conduit for some of the drama, some of the flashbacks, and some of the race-talk that is happening. But with August, he's not even an angsty teen; he's just there.

Ron: But I think that relates to how this show is gender swapping a lot of moments. Stella is basically the troublemaker, and it's an understandable reaction because she is grieving and her father wasn't there when she was grieving. So she's acting out just to get attention, which is something that teenagers do. August, on the other hand, is the ‘good’ child. He’s a saint. He doesn't do anything wrong. He immediately allows his father back into their lives and Stella is the one who's questioning, ‘why?’. This man was gone when we needed him. She wants August to stand up for them. But August doesn't. He wants to keep the piece. That's a fun little subversion that I’ve been wanting to see in shows but this one is giving it to us.

And then there are these other little things, like Stella is playing soccer. I have not seen soccer in an American TV show, so that's really unexpected. It's usually American football, or it’s lacrosse, like in Teen Wolf, but soccer? Not so much, so that's fun. You see August kind of helping with the cooking, but he's also very interested in photography. And that's a creative field that we usually see female characters get into. What's also quite interesting in Walker is that both Stella and August are taking after their mother. They do things that she used to like doing, that she was interested in, that they did with her. Their father, not so much, even though he was also absent so they would want to do something that he likes. But it seems like they're genetically predisposed to want to be like their mom, so that's fun.

From what we know of Emily, she was quite multitalented. She was a photographer. She was a great mom. She was a good friend; she was a wonderful wife; she was a handyman. And Walker, on the other hand, is terrible with tools. We don't usually get to see things like that.

Mon: In a way, Walker is defined by only two things: his job and his family. But Emily, despite having such curtailed screen time, is this fully-fledged character, who was so amazing in every way and everybody is like, kind of, always wishing that Emily was there, and not Walker. I don't know if they intended that as a subversion, but it sure comes across as that.

Ron: What Walker does well is that the subversion isn't just limited to the Walker family. Like we see Micki, is the Ranger, but her partner, Trey, is a nurse. Now, this is something that used to drive me up the wall about most shows that were, you know, in any way action-oriented, sci-fi, fantasy. Female characters were almost always relegated to the role of healer or nurturer, male characters got to go out there and fight. But here, it's exactly the opposite. Micki is the one who is going out and fighting, whereas Trey is the one who is there to help people and take care of them if things go bad.

Mon: And not just medically. He's also an emotional support for a lot of people. Like he's there for Stella, he's there for Walker. He's also there for Micki. So again, that's why we need a refreshing change from what we've always had. And I like that it’s the CW which is doing it because, yeah, they’re kind of on the map because of their superhero stuff, but we've always found that even with the superhero stuff, there have been times when we felt like they could have pushed some boundaries, but they didn't. And with this show, I'm not saying they're like, completely breaking every possible glass ceiling. I'm just saying that they're doing a very good job of making some cracks.

Ron: I mean there is a strip club scene which is not what it looks like. That's all I'm gonna say.

From episode 2 onwards, every story has been really, really exciting. So, from a writing point of view, the show is also doing a really good job. I've actually found myself surprised by the direction of some of the stories, and that's quite fun, considering we've watched a lot of police procedurals in our lives.

Mon: At this point, it's easy to get a little bit jaded with pop culture. This is our entertainment—action stuff, superhero stuff, we are for it. But you need to innovate. It's a tough landscape, there's so much new content coming out, so much of it is in the same genre. What I feel like with Walker is that, mostly because of Padalecki, he's gonna draw in a completely different crowd, which is the Supernatural crowd. And because it's on The CW, you're also getting eyeballs from an audience who is kind of watching Riverdale in the evenings. And then they got Walker. And you need that balance, because so much content is cruise control. And as we said, this show could easily have been that, but it wasn’t. And it's trying very hard not to.

As we said, there is a certain pattern, because in every episode, you're like, ‘Wait, did they just do that?’ And it makes you sit up and take notice and wonder, ‘okay in all these years, why did no other show have this particular scene?’ And more than anything else, I think that's what's making us come back. It's like, how are they innovating? How are they being more creative and more innovative with the same established storylines and dynamics.

Ron: I'm going to give Walker props for even trying to do things differently, because you just mentioned Riverdale, and that show is entertaining, but it's been so cliched from the very start. And considering its audience, I really would have wanted it to do something a little bit different. There have been times when I’ve watched Riverdal and I thought, ‘Oh okay, that's a little bit different.’ But honestly, it just doesn't try that hard.

Mon: No, in fact, some of the messaging in there is problematic to say the least. Young people are watching it, and, well, young people are on The CW a lot, and I do worry that they need to get a strong message about what's right, what's wrong and what you should be questioning,

And that's what Walker is doing. It is acknowledging the privilege of this family. But at the same time, it is also telling us that they have their own struggles. Are their struggles greater than other people? No. But this is the story that we’re being told, because we need the audience stand in, and as we know the easiest way for the audience to walk into a show is through somebody who apparently looks like them.

Ron: The people around the Walker family are people of color. So you have Micki, you have Trey, you have Captain James, Stella's friend, August’s possible love interest, they haven't got there yet. Even Cordell’s brother Liam, his partner is a person of color. So you've got this in with the Walker family, but around them, you’ve got all these people of color who we definitely are interested in and invested in. It could have easily been the other way around, and I would have liked that, but I'll take it.

Mon: I think the smart move by the writers has been that not only do we have an in with a white family, but we're also looking through their eyes to understand the different viewpoints of the people around them. And essentially what's happening is that no one is being made to feel alienated in a circumstance or an environment that they feel is their own. So, the fact that the white family has a ranch, and stuff like that okay, yeah, that's aspirational for a lot of people. But you also have the Black captain who is new. So you have that audience who is enjoying being part of a club, if you could say, that hasn't always represented them. And then you have, of course, with Micki, and the dichotomy of being a Texas Ranger, when the Texas Rangers are such a problem for the Latinx community. So it’s this inclusivity, which I guess we’re really, there for.

Ron: And that's all just within the first six episodes, so I really don't know where this show is going to be going. I'm very excited by its direction. And I'm really surprised that from all the shows that we've seen Walker is the one that's making us think, ‘well, this is doing something different’.

Mon: Yeah, and I think it's fortuitous that we are recording this episode after episode 6. That was some episode! A lot happened, they packed in a lot. There were a lot of twists and turns too; a lot of bombshells in there. And it's actually making us rethink how we have viewed some of the characters. There are some revelations coming and I don't think we're gonna like it.

Ron: Well, I for one, am totally invested in this show. Episode 6 felt like it was a turning point. According to Anna Fricke, the showrunner, things are gonna be happening. I cannot wait to find out what they are.

So, there you have it. We're really enjoying the first six episodes of Walker, which is not something we thought that we would be saying on our podcast.

Mon: But we’re glad we are. Because, you know what, if you haven't caught this show because you think it's not your kind of show, give it a shot. And give it a shot beyond just the pilot episode because you're in for a ride.

Ron: And some really great characters.

Mon: Absolutely.

Ron: Have you watched Walker? What did you think of it? We'd love to hear from you.

You can find us on Twitter @Stereo_Geeks. Or send us an email [email protected]. We hope you enjoyed this episode. And see you next week!

Mon: The Stereo Geeks logo was created using Canva. The music for our podcast comes courtesy Audionautix.

[Continuum by Audionautix plays]

Transcription by Otter.ai, Ron, and Mon.

#walker #the cw #jared paladecki #supernatural #stereo geeks #reboot #podcast

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grandcollections · 4 years ago

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by @bonearenaofmyskull

Summary:

While isolated from the rest of humanity as they escape the United States on their own sailing vessel, Will grapples with what he wants out of his renewed relationship with Hannibal.

Comments:

God, what a lovely, perfectly measured, somber post-fall fic. This is one out of maybe three perfectly executed post-fall fics that are my personal canon. This one... oh, THIS one!!!.... A somber sailboat fic composed of quiet moments and introspection, surprisingly short considering the amount of emotion and resolution it packs in its small real estate, it's the perfect fic to read the very night after you finish the last episode of Hannibal for a good, cleansing cry and a full heart before you go to bed.

Will had been afraid those few weightless moments: afraid and at peace, warmed by Hannibal’s body in his arms, and it had been so right. Right that they should die there together, right that they had killed together, right that Hannibal had known what was coming and still given himself over to Will as they stood on the eroding edge together. It was right when Hannibal’s arms tightened— desperately, compulsively— around Will. In those moments, Will had loved him more than he could reckon.

But here was Will, only a few feet away from him, his fingers thoughtlessly caressing the silver circle of wheel with just the pads, gripping, releasing. There he was, the toes on one foot curling and pressing into Cetus’s decking, his bare feet peeking out from new linen pants, slightly too long without shoes on. There—impossibly there, undeniably there, inconceivably there. Close enough to touch, if Hannibal reached for him. Hannibal stored him up in his mind, in a room encompassing all the oceans of the world.

“You are so consistently insistent," Will said. Hannibal smiled. "And you so persistently resistant."

TLDR: The writing is exquisite— the tone belongs to the show, pairs perfectly with it. It’s full of restrained sensuality, has an amazing grasp on nautical terminology, a mastery of setting the scene in the loveliest way possible, and a real grasp on Hannibal-esque dialogue that was so, so satisfying. It treats both Hannibal and Will individually with such respect; Hannibal’s yearning and penchant for manipulation and his constant pushing, Will’s reservations and melancholy and frustration. Both of their fears and their pain. Hannibal is allowed to be vulnerable and afraid (while giving us heaps of pining and possessive Hannibal) and Will is allowed to be strong in a way that rings true to both their characters. It highlights the bitterly circular nature of their relationship, the way pain and tenderness seem to always be intertwined. The fic has so much angst and little resolution (just how I like it— a bitch likes blue balls). What’s unique about this fic is how it refuses to shy away from any facet of the twisted, tremulous place Hannibal and Will would be post-fall — the immense confusion, the yearning and learning and re-learning, the sea of blood and betrayal between them. This fic is not an ending; it’s a beginning, and that’s its true strength.

(much) more detailed review below the cut!

I'll talk about the writing first! (I'm being shockingly coherent here considering how much I incoherently screamed while reading/ in the fic comments). The TONE! is literal perfection. IMMACULATE. Only a few paragraphs in and I felt like I was watching the show, I FELT the bond between the show and the fic. The aesthetics matched — a feat, as the author manages to do that with such tight, contained writing while the aesthetic of the show is outrageously, extraneously beautiful. At no point does this author resort to flowery writing or extraneous detail— every word is measured, purposeful, bare, yet bursting with feeling.

This translates to one of my favorite aspects of the writing: its restrained sensuality. I say “sensuality” instead of “sexuality” because that’s what it is— gentle, but roiling eroticism, barely communicated in the slightest of details:

He became slowly conscious of Hannibal’s steady gaze on him as he moved. He halted as he came to his door, hand on the latch. Somewhere in the back of his mind those words echoed again—Is Hannibal in love with me?—and Bedelia’s measured tones as she answered... Will turned his head but did not quite look at him. Hannibal’s attention remained steady, intent, curious. “Will?” he asked. Will went inside. Thereafter the association had him and would not let him go. He became aware of Hannibal’s attention in a manner he had never thought about much before.

... but instead he stayed with Hannibal, watching Hannibal’s face just inches from his own. Hannibal licked his lips and continued to apply pressure, watching Will watch him. They remained in this tableau, waiting for deliverance.

Hannibal peeled the shrimp and removed the veins with deft turns of his wrists, his sleeves rolled up halfway to his elbows. “I can help with that,” Will said.

Will could not resist testing his hand’s movement and felt it brush against the seam on the inside of Hannibal’s thigh. “Try to be still,” Hannibal murmured. He ran his warm palm over the muscles of Will’s shoulder again, much the same as he had smoothed the blanket fifteen minutes before, and as he had once drawn a blanket over Will’s chilled form and caressed him, Will thought idly, mere hours after shoving Abigail’s ear down his throat.

Hannibal’s lips were parted, and Will could feel his warm breath. He knew the look without needing to see it clearly: admiration and ache warring equally over his chiseled features. Consuming, as always. Drinking him in. Taking. He wondered what Hannibal saw in his own face.

What’s glorious about this style of muted sensuality is that the power is all left to the implications — which are infinitely more than a scene in which a finite ~thing~ happens— to what’s unsaid, not done (but yearned for). Yearning (oh, there is so much yearning) takes a front seat. As a huge fan of Hemingway’s iceberg theory and contained writing in general, I loved this style.

The physical descriptions of the boat and the beauty of the sea were always lovely and anchoring. This author has a ridiculous command of the nautical world, and even if I didn’t understand all of it I deeply appreciated the attention to detail —

Hannibal had been a long time indoors and not a molecule of this natural beauty was lost on him. But mostly he watched Will. Will did not see this world of ultraviolet glare and sunblind desaturation as Hannibal did, but rather with the eye of a mariner and a fisherman. In the previous week, Hannibal had coaxed him into voicing some of his observations, and seeing life through Will's eyes had been in its way as fascinating as viewing death. A loon's laughing cry rose and passed on more than one occasion, and Will commented that it was a good sign for the fishery, that there must be a good number of menhaden, a baitfish, in the Bay that year...

A diffuse glow of sunlight illuminated his face from below, as the sun peeked through the skylights and lit up the woodwork and white upholstery in the saloon. It warmed the recesses of Hannibal’s sculpted face and made his eyes glow, more amber than brown.

There was no word on the weather, of the hot and unnatural stillness that held Hannibal and himself in its unrelenting grip.

The quotes at the beginnings of the chapters were also a really nice touch!

Hannibal's voice, his elite brand of dialogue— cyclical, cutting, seemingly random but never actually so— is captured perfectly; a difficult feat. It was so satisfying to read:

“Moments are all that we need, Will. Enough moments, strung together, make eternity.”

"To feel intensely is not a symptom of weakness, Will. It's the mark of the truly alive."

This makes the hannigram conversations feel so authentic, so classically them, with Hannibal's philosophical overtures, the religious imagery, the refusing to shy away from previous interactions/conflict between them, and prodding and digging into Will as he loves to do, as he can't resist doing. Combined with Will’s insolence and the way he can surprise Hannibal, can (briefly) render hims speechless, the conversations could be scenes pulled from the show.

I deeply loved and appreciated the instances of Hannibal pushing, of refusing to let things go (more on that later), of behaving instinctually (especially when Will pulls strong emotion from him). It rings so true to the character— Hannibal’s worst vice (with Will at least) is his inability to control his black impulses when he's overcome with feeling when it comes to Will, especially if it's negative, burning emotion like betrayal, jealousy, or hurt. (See: Mizumono, Dolce). Then Hannibal becomes a viper, lunging and striking without thinking, poisoning the space between them.

Hannibal’s continuous pushing was a product of the author refusing to ignore the latent issues that would lie between our favorite murder husbands post-fall. A lot of fics jump straight into murder-husbands epilogue or Will-is-immediately-as-bloodthirsty-and-happily-cannibalistic-as-Hannibal (and I'm not gonna lie there's a couple of those that are favorites, writing makes all the difference for me) but this fic doesn't do that. I’ll admit that it’s very much not a focus of the fic, there is absolutely no exploration of how Will feels about killing or cannibalism, if he felt powerful, if he wants to chase that feeling, no exploration of “it’s beautiful”. It’s not a weakness of the fic, just very glaringly not a part of it. This fic is severely focused on Hannigram’s complicated feelings about each other, in a dreamlike isolated place. The fic doesn’t bother itself with morality, doesn’t place judgement, positive or negative, on any of those acts. It also doesn’t dismiss them from the future, and any realistic future would involve such acts. As I said before, this fic is a beginning.

But, yes, back to my point! The fic touches on issues such as Abigail, Molly and Walter, and even the fall off the cliff by having Hannibal push Will again and again (even literally). I’m hesitant to say “explores” rather than “touches on” because it doesn’t do that, doesn’t provide a full resolution— it acknowledges these issues, establishes that they would be part of a continued conversation, and moves on. (Like I said; a beginning).

Although Will rarely (or may actually never) bring up any of his own issues— he only engages when forced to by Hannibal— he does display strength in typical Will ways, through resistance and insolence.

What Hannibal wanted was what Will had shared with Molly and Walter... He did not want to give these things to Hannibal.

A lot of fics will have Will either shy away from any discussion of Molly and Walter, because they’re ugly and difficult to execute well, and so they are erased as if they never existed— or they will simply have Will completely demote and reject Molly and Walter and the life he lived in Maine. But in this fic, Will is still protective of them, even as a memory, even as something that exists completely in the past, even as he moves forward with Hannibal. It’s a display of strength, of non-compliance, that I love.

Will shows strength in other ways, too. While he doesn’t start many of the difficult conversations as Hannibal does (as only insightful Hannibal can do), once engaged he’s present and sharp, sometimes unyielding and even hurtful. Will doesn’t shy away from the bitterness of the walls placed between them, walls that aren’t made of matter but of space— space Will placed between them, space Hannibal took (and continues to try to take) from him.

The result are many (beautiful) references to their past, to the rivers of blood between them:

The grief of their years apart flooded after, with the weight of what they had done to each other and what they had suffered at each other’s hands. The shadows of pain and stains of blood surrounded them, filling the boat, threatening to sink it and carry them both to the bottom of the sea.

He had been sure, and he was still sure- they had to deal with each other, to grope their way through their shared maze of long-stored griefs and the dead ends of failed trust.

Hannibal had awoken, and Will’s peace fled.

This last gutting quote takes me to another hallmark of this fic for me— a truly beautiful and mature display of their mutual unhappiness, a living example of “be careful what you wish for”. Both men have wished for this (for different lengths of time and in different degrees, yes, but they wished for it)— to be alone together, which is to not be alone, finally (“we are both alone without each other”). But now that they have it, they learn that they have to actually be together, and that perhaps they don’t know to do that, or at least how best to do that. They learn that there’s so much pain and unresolved emotion to contend with, when faced with the nothing but the other and time.

And so, after the story ends, they don’t leap into happily-ever-after. Instead, they leap into explorations of their unresolved feelings and their own failings. There’s such a deep understanding of both men’s failings, the unique ways in which their hearts are broken — there’s even a beautiful mirror where both men (separately) reflect on the ways in which they’re not enough for the other.

As then, Hannibal knew he had little with which to fight this enemy. He had no secrets left to reveal, no curiosity to exploit, no monsters to fight, no daughter to share, no one left to save but Will himself. He had only Hannibal Lecter, and that had never been enough.

Will wondered what equally tender and ravenous urge had brought Hannibal forward to watch over him while he slept... He tried to imagine if there might ever be any way he could give Hannibal enough to sate him. Maybe there was, if Hannibal had succeeded in sawing his way into Will’s head and eaten his brain after all. Will could not see it otherwise. The whole of Will’s entire life and being was not enough. It had never been enough.

This whole thing is both gorgeous and tragic, both of them harboring imagined shortcomings and impossible desires. Will wonders if literal consumption, to be eaten or allowing himself to be possessed in every other way, is the only thing that will sate Hannibal. And this Will is, very definitively, not willing to do that. (I’m not averse to fics where Will is— when done well, it’s supremely good). And Hannibal has always used Something Else to hook Will, to keep Will, and so the tragedy is in the hypothetical— what could have happened had he resisted some of his own worst impulses? Did Hannibal behave this way because of Will’s resistance, or would Will not have resisted him, rejected him, had he not been so manipulative, coercive, demanding, taking? *Sigh.* I also love that Hannibal is allowed to acknowledge his own failings and betrayals in this fic; it doesn’t always exists in post-fall fics (again, it's usually Will apologizing for his false life with Molly, etc). It makes for some delicious angst.

And my god, is the angst good! Striking, painful, gutting, love that for meee!!!! (I genuinely do!)

Will did not speak, not even to thank Hannibal. It stung.

BABEYYYY NOOOO why do the SIMPLEST sentences fucking destROYYYY me?!!

Does that make you feel better?” Will asked in a low voice. “It’s not enough that you take everything else—you have to take even the symbols of anything I had that wasn’t about you?”

Reaching out, he gripped the fabric of Hannibal’s shirt in his hand, closing his fist around it slowly. “Maybe that should tell you something.” Hannibal twitched slightly—Will had caught some of his chest hair—but he remained passive. It was Will’s weak arm, his right, and so the gesture was just that: a gesture, made for no better reason than emphasis. But it felt good to have Hannibal under him, looking surprised.... “What should it tell me, Will?” “Some things”—Will breathed deeply through his nose, trying to steady himself—“do not belong to you.” His voice came low and quiet. Hannibal’s hand came up and touched his arm, moving up to the recently injured shoulder, running his palm over Will’s shirt, passing his fingers over the roughness of scars beneath. “I only wish to know you.”

literally SCREAMING INCOHERENTLY!!! I haven’t even used the worst (best) angsty bits — gotta save something for the actual fic! so go go go!!!

This deep understanding of both Will and Hannibal as separate individuals shines throughout the fic, but I’d like to showcase some really strong character lines. On Hannibal:

Hannibal was pleased with his age and the experiences that fueled it: every moment he lived he had snatched from God’s own sticky fingers.

He knew that Hannibal could and did partition his mind against such associations, that his affection was every bit as real as his violence... He could only find and explore this newly tender and painful place within him, like a man who cannot keep from tonguing an aching tooth.

... the mercurial author of both his pain and his relief.

He had probably investigated all of Will's belongings at some point.

Hannibal could believe, but he could never know.

(^ one of my favorite parts of the fic; the recurring explanation of Hannibal’s desire to possess Will is a product of his fear of not knowing him. This line is so simple and well done, yet full of anguish.)

Will had seen Hannibal’s heart break enough times to recognize it in his stillness, in the slight thrust of his jaw beneath closed lips, in the shifts between denial and acceptance in his brown eyes, which could find no safe place to rest in the landscape of Will’s face.

(i’m EMO.) Okayokay, Will’s character lines are just as fantastic:

He would be unable to tend his right arm well with his left hand, and Hannibal would insist, and he would be forced to give in. Will wished it did not matter.

(THIS. LINE. So much communicated about Will's mingled frustration and acceptance, about the power imbalance in this relationship, in just six words.?

He was so tired of it-tired of the vulnerability, of dependency, tired of the torture of needing comfort, of wanting comfort from his tormentor.

Will had adopted his trademark flat affect by the second of these sessions. He would stare ahead, at the pulse at the base of Hannibal’s throat, following Hannibal’s instructions to the letter, but he might as well have been the walking dead for all the emotion he expressed. He spoke when spoken to and offered nothing. (my chest hurts, oh will)

Will was a dark presence near him, slim and sharp as a cutlass.

And then he smiled, gray eyes lifting to Hannibal’s, bringing Hannibal’s heart into his throat. He smiled that sad smile of his, the smile that could contain oceans of sweetness and bitterness all at once.

✨ and this line, that encompasses both of them:

It still hurt, to be so vulnerable. It hurt that Hannibal had turned on him and could have drowned him or let him drown, yet again after so many times down this path. It hurt that Hannibal lived day to day and moment to moment, awaiting Will’s next betrayal.

and oh, oh this fic is rife with lovely hannigram passages:

Hannibal seemed to sense his weariness. “We’re always braver in the face of our own pain than in the face of the pain of those we love,” he said quietly. He turned his attention back to Will’s arm and let the conversation rest.

Is Hannibal in love with me? he had asked... Will had been enormously afraid of either answer. Hannibal continued to cut the bell pepper in to a twisting spiral of red, his face and body still, only his hands working. “I thought of you,” Will said finally. “Often.” Hannibal’s breath released in a slow sigh. Will watched the words fill him up, set him to rest, with no outward change in his demeanor. He wished it were always so easy. Or had it always been?

His movements were slow and deliberate, less like a doctor at work than a supplicant at prayer.

(^ okokok i'm NOT going feral i'm NOT! supplication/worship/devotee imagery in tender moments between lovers/from a hopeful lover to the object of his/her devotion is my WEAKNESS)

What would you give me?” Will asked finally. “What would you have of me?” “Would you give me”—Will articulated slowly, deliberately—“Bedelia du Maurier?” Hannibal felt a thrill of surprise in his chest. Will was steady, studying. Hannibal watched the gray-blue of his irises. His pupils were constricted in the harsh daylight. “Do you want her?” Hannibal asked curiously. “No.” “I would deny you nothing.”

But, there is resolution. (Some). There is peace to be found. It comes in the form of Will letting go of the desire to ever kill Hannibal:

... dim memory of the thrill he used to get while imagining killing Hannibal came and went, just a phantom—powerless, soon forgotten. There was something freeing in the knowledge that he could not kill Hannibal even if he tried.... Will held himself over Hannibal for several long seconds. He imagined hurting him, pressing a knee to his throat and crushing his voice box, silencing that voice forever. No thrill accompanied the thought now. No pain, either. Nothing. He would never do it, he knew; he had taken his opportunity at the top of the cliff, and it would never return.

and is completed when he lets go: All of it was lost to the sea.

There is such tangible relief in Will’s deciding to let go of any illusions of killing Hannibal, and in releasing his pain to the sea. (And remember, the entire premise of this fic is Will deciding what he wants from Hannibal in this new life they find themselves in... and he decides.) With it comes such hard won, painful freedom. I literally felt a surge of relief and a burden dropped; Will’s. He is freed from having to "seek justice" or do the right thing. It's over. He can just, BE (whatever that looks like).

ps: I haven’t quoted too much from the last two chapters, as that’s where the most “plot” happens and they’re phenomenal and I can’t just copy and paste the whole chapters here. Please, just go read it! And I will link my comments: chapter 13 | chapter 14

I just... can’t say enough good things about this fic, but I’ve thoughtfully laid out everything major. It’s tremendous, satisfying, lovely. Go give it a read.

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yangsharperavery · 5 years ago

Text

title: the part of you that’s her and the part of you that’s you

pairing: michael x maria

word count: 1884 words

summary: post 2x05. maria ponders the expansive, unfamiliar space of attempting to trust michael guerin again.

She wasn’t really sure how they had ended up back here.

In a tangled mess of limbs and sheets and cyclical need.

She had been the kind of furious and wounded that rivaled the sheer power of an avalanche or a swarm of agitated insects.

The kind of hurt that lingers and can’t necessarily be undone or explained away.

The kind of confusion that hits you like a ton of bricks even when you’ve been living long enough to know that life is full of surprises.

And yet you’re still completely blindsided by a truth that’s knocked the wind right out of your chest.

But what was she supposed to do, really?

Where was she supposed to put all of that emotion?

Because that pain and anger and overwhelmingly loud current you feel when a steadily building trust seeps out of your pores, doesn’t actually last forever.

Even if she wanted it to, even if she could keep it close and use it as some type of sacred armor. Even if that would help keep him at an arm’s length indefinitely.

Would she even want that? Like actually want him out of her life?

The thing about all those initial feelings of betrayal and confusion and bewilderment is that once they subside, everything else is still there… simmering languidly against the impetus of it all.

The comfort, the familiarity, the sweetness, the genuine boundless care.

The ease.

It was so easy for them to navigate the spaces around one another and with one another.

None of it ever felt like work.

Even in the bickering or the bantering. It fit all the sorted groves and divets; filled up each other’s lack.

That doesn’t just disappear.

So she’s not surprised that they’ve ended up like this, once again. Both barely clothed, sharing a too-small bed, beneath too thin sheets in his airstream.

Him reading from some file with her bare feet against his bare stomach, his legs sprawled out in the opposite direction. Her across from him quietly observing his stillness and concentration in the first bits of consciousness after having just awoken.

Her foot just barely twitches as her muscles further wake; he mindlessly grasps it with his free hand but doesn’t look up from whatever he’s reading.

So she keeps silently pondering the depth of whatever this is and how after weeks of successfully not talking to him, they’d ended up right back where they’d been prior- months ago when they were fully playing house but saying they weren’t.

Back then when she was in an elevated, near constant state of fear and worry over her mother.

When she was imperceptibly terrified and uneasy for herself.

That protruding memory causes her to realize that she’d been less and less worried or fearful for herself when he was around.

She wondered when exactly that had started?

And why it felt like such an anchored feeling; even in the midst of shattered trust.

Had she missed it against the onslaught of everything else she was dealing with on a daily basis?

How had this crept up on her so severely?

How had he?

And why, despite all crises and disasters and reveals, had she somehow allowed him to stay?

Or at the very least return.

Sometimes attempting to bargain with your heart is a wildly futile task.

As is trying to pinpoint when he had turned into this sublime retreat, even given all these other extenuating circumstances.

The first time she had seen him again after successfully shutting him out was the day she went to Max’s to see Liz and Rosa.

After sitting outside with them, Michael had emerged from inside the house and stopped immediately in his tracks when he saw her.

They locked eyes for a bit longer than a moment before she looked back at Liz, who gave her a knowing look that only someone who has been exceedingly close to you in your formative years could effectively give.

But they hadn’t spoken.

It wasn’t the time or the place and for some reason, just them being in the same general space served a very clarifying and real purpose.

She had gone in to sit with Max for a while and say a brief prayer at his bedside.

She whispered a few heartfelt, encouraging words to Liz and after hugging her and Rosa goodbye she thought maybe she’d have to say something to Michael.

But she didn’t know what. She hadn’t properly located the words for it just yet.

Still so gutted by the thought of it all.

And she could see how much he was hurting.

Her hurt, his hurt. Such tumult to contend with.

So all she could muster was a reassuring gaze and a gentle squeeze of his arm as she walked past him.

She felt him lightly sway into her fleeting frame.

She saw him in her rearview mirror on the porch watching her drive away.

He had shown up at the Pony a few days later. He hadn’t approached her or attempted to talk.

Just drank and watched her work, he tried to be less than obvious about it yet she felt his eyes on her.

He half thought she’d throw him out. She didn’t.

He carried some things to her truck for her a few nights later without her even having to ask.

She thanked him and didn’t realize those were the first words she’d uttered to him in quite some time.

And still, there wasn’t that necessary addressing of what had taken place between them.

The enormous breach of trust that she was still trying to wrap her mind around.

It was one thing to know that people are entitled to their secrets, it’s another to feel like a secret directly impacted you and even potentially put you or your mother in danger and those who cared about you still kept it.

The bigger thing she was trying to contend with was that, while so many people were in the know about this big secret, at least Liz and Alex were still who they’d always been.

And ultimately maybe it really wasn’t their secret to tell: not about Michael and Isobel and Max anyway.

Liz and Alex hadn’t actually changed after all.

She still knew them. They were still quite literally... people.

Michael being an alien felt so inconceivable that she wondered if she had dreamt up how he felt and tasted and smelled.

All very human.

And yet, this information of him being the furthest thing from that seemed quite plausible.

Him being from another dimension and planet made complete sense because there was this otherworldly quality. Something she had been unconsciously trying to internally reconcile.

Something about him.

And no, it wasn’t immediately obvious because she’d known him for a long time. It was slight and meager and then it grew quietly until she had suddenly realized how responsive she was to every part of him.

And it had shocked her.

And while she kept trying to convince herself of its lack of meaning, maybe she always saw this thing about him she just couldn’t properly put her finger on.

Underneath all the brooding and anger and veneer.

Something so malleable and ethereal and constant.

She notices his expression changes as he continues to read.

“You okay?”

That expression instantly evaporates and turns relaxed as soon as he sees her lying there looking at him.

“I am.”

She wanted to both press him and leave it alone in equal measure.

She wanted to give him the space to tell her things of his own volition but also wrestled with potentially not knowing how to convey support.

How different were all the facets of the internal inner workings of the emotional and mental alien world? And could they really be that different if he’d successfully been an alien living on this human planet all this time?

Largely undetected or found out.

He sees her looking discreetly at the file.

“It’s information about my mother,” he says softly.

“You mentioned her very briefly before when mine was missing. Was she...”

“An alien?”

Maria nods.

“Yeah, it’s a fucked up sorted story. And yet here I am, trying to figure out more of it.”

He closes and drops the file.

“Of course you are, how could you not? She’s part of you.”

Maria leans up and reaches her hand out to grasp his arm.

“Both the part of you that’s her and the part of you that’s you would want to know, I feel the same way,” she reassures.

His eyes get momentarily sad before he picks up her hand and brushes his lips against it. He then smooths both of his hands over her feet still in his lap.

“What happened here?” Michael gently inquires.

He points to her little pinkie toe, only half-covered with white nail polish, looking like the odd man out amongst her otherwise perfect pedicure.

“I wasn’t paying attention and stubbed it so hard, it took most of the polish off.”

“Ow.”

“I’ve been meaning to fix it, there’s even polish in my purse, just haven’t gotten around to it.”

“You want me to do it?”

Maria smiles.

“You’re gonna paint my pinkie toe for me, Guerin?”

“I’ll paint them all for you if you want, Deluca.”

“I don’t have any remover,” she responds after contemplating his offer.

“I do.”

Maria pauses for a moment before replying.

“Right. You had a few empty bottles in your truck that I noticed on our way back to Texas, I figured it was a car thing.”

“It does also work on scuffs on cars so you aren’t wrong,” Michael chuckles.

“So that’s another alien thing, huh?”

“Mhm, it’s like what you’d equate 10 hours of sleep and a green juice to. Replenishes our output, sometimes our powers weaken or really tire us.”

Maria nods.

Moments later, she’s watching him enact the same level of meticulous, unrivaled concentration as he was earlier as he gently paints each one of her toenails.

She’s taken by how small yet mighty not only the gesture is, but the care he takes in performing it.

There’s a level of unbridled softness that exists within Michael Guerin that so many just didn’t have access to.

At that moment she felt a distinct honor to witness it and to be on the receiving end of it.

So much so that she felt emotion crowd her throat.

“Did your necklace break again?” Michael asked, pulling her out of her internal rollercoaster.

“What?”

“Yeah, the one I fixed.”

“Oh no, I actually gave it to my mom.”

“Ah,” Michael responded, leaning further over her newly painted toes and gently blowing.

Maria’s lips inadvertently parted at this move.

“I had just noticed you weren’t wearing it recently,” he admitted, still concentrating on drying her toes with the air from his mouth.

“You’re quite observant.”

“You’re the easiest thing in the world to observe.”

She smiles.

“All done,” he remarks proudly as he inspects his work.

“Hey,” Maria says gently. He looks up at her for the first time in several moments.

She leans forward over both of their laps and kisses him.

“Thanks for the pretty toes,” she says.

“Thank your mom for the pretty toes but you’re welcome for the polish,” Michael replied, kissing her.

also on ao3

#miluca #michael x maria #michael guerin #maria deluca #roswell new mexico #fanfiction

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manawhaat · 5 years ago

Text

Island Fires

Title: Island Fires

Characters: Steve Rogers x Reader, Tony, Bucky, Bruce, Helen Cho, mentions of Clint and Wanda.

Prompt: Huddling for warmth.

Summary: You and Steve are stranded on an island after a failed mission when a life or death situation reveals more about the two of you than you ever would have known.

Warnings: Bearded!Cap, Steven Grant Rogers swearing like a sailor, flying (and crashing) a helicopter, sinking into the ocean, open water, distress and scenes of hypothermia, character death, being stranded on an island, fluff.

Word Count: 5.7k

A/N: Written for @star-spangled-bingo with a quick beta by @samsgoddess. If you like it, let me know :) Thanks for reading!

“How are the comms even down?”

“I don’t know, but we probably shouldn’t stick around to see what else they can manage,” Steve pants, eyes squinting against the midday sun. “We already know Clint was compromised and Wanda was injured. If anyone else’s comms are up they’re probably going to pull back. We should get back to the q-”

Before he can finish his sentence you catch a glimpse of something rising up into the air and you watch as the quinjet takes off, leaving you and Steve there in the thick of it with no way out.

“Fuck.”

Bullets ricochet off the railing overhead and you both spring into action to eliminate the threat. In the thick of the fight you spot your way out at the end of the tarmac. “Cap, look.”

When the enemy is down, blue eyes lock on the chopper and you follow his lead, both of you making your run for it.

“Do you even know how to fly one of these things?”

Running ahead Steve shouts back at you, “Does it matter? Now hurry up.”

“Oh, sorry I’m not Captain A-Fucking-Merica,” you sass.

Steve shoots a look over his shoulder that says ‘really?’ and you roll your eyes but pick up the pace, chest pounding hard and fast when you finally make it into the chopper beside him.

As the engine starts up, bullets start whizzing by. Steve moves the cyclic and the rounds flying by outside the chopper start pinging off the landing skids as you lift into the air. A few seconds later Steve has full control of the helicopter and you’re soaring up and through the sky.

“Get on that radio and see if you can make contact with them,” he orders, and you start flipping buttons, holding the headset to your ears, listening for anything.

Ten minutes pass before you say, “I’m not picking anything up.”

“Ok. That’s fine. We just need to get somewhere. We just-”

A loud screeching starts coming from the cockpit and lights flash all over the control panel. Looking for the source, the chopper slows and slowly starts descending.

“What is this? Steve, what are you doing?”

“I’m not doing anything! I don’t know what’s wrong.”

“Ok, but we’re clearly going down!”

Blue eyes look down and see a silver lining. “Well, we’re over water, so we might have a chance at surviving the crash.”

As much as you wish you could keep your cool, stand strong by your friend, your Captain, it just isn’t in the cards for you. A slur of swears and prayer erupts from your lips as your heart plummets into your stomach. Any semblance of calm is gone and you’re in a full blown panic when Steve grabs you by the collar and tries to snap you out of it.

“Y/n! Look at me.” The tone in his voice cuts through and you’re able to focus on those cerulean blue eyes just long enough for him to say, “Look, we’re going down. It’s happening. I need you to breathe. We’re gonna hit, hard. Stay awake. Keep your eyes open. I’m right here and I won’t leave you. I won’t leave you, okay?”

Something about how he’s holding you makes you believe him, and though your body wants to fight it, you tighten the straps of your harness and force shaky breaths into your lungs.

“Okay, hold on. I’m gonna try something, here.”

Turning to face Steve, you see him pushing buttons, flipping switches, working on a fucking miracle. “Brace, Y/n. Brace!”

Though he told you to keep your eyes open, you simply can’t. Slamming your eyes shut, the chopper lifts awkwardly, spins a little, dips, lifts, and then slams into the water at an angle that knocks the wind out of your lungs. Ears ringing, you’re faintly aware of a voice cutting in under the thrum of your frantic heartbeat.

Cold.

Eyes jolting open wider, everything is too bright all at once.

“Holy shit,” you gasp in shock as frigid water floods the space around you, already threatening to cover your knees. Panic bubbles into your voice and a whole new level of fear fills you to the brim. “Steve?”

“I’m right here. Are you okay?”

“Considering we just crashed a helicopter?”

A faint laugh pulls on his voice. “Try to take deep breaths. It’s sinking fast so we’re gonna wait until we’re completely under, then we can escape, ok? Just keep your harness on until we’re under, alright?” Steve waits for you to nod his way before unbuckling his harness and diving into the water. He disappears and suddenly you’re filled with doubt.

You try to find him in the water but everything is moving too fast and you can’t see anything other than the rapid rise of it in the small space. Tears suddenly fill your eyes and you shut them tight, trying to take deep breaths like Steve told you to. Every inch the water rises brings hiccups and tremors to your body. Hyperventilation isn’t uncommon in situations or water temperatures like this, but you’re going under and, thankfully, part of your brain snaps you out of it. Though shaky, you do your best to maintain steady, timed breaths. When the water reaches your neck, your eyes fly open again, looking around frantically. He’s still nowhere to be found and you let out a garbled cry of fear before heaving in your last deep breath.

The cold water covers your mouth and washes over your head and your shaking hands go to unbuckle your harness. Fingers grasp at yours and you can make out Steve’s face right in front of your own. Though you’re still terrified, you find a little relief knowing that he’s there.

Steve helps you and ushers you through the chopper to the emergency door. The corded muscles in his body tense as he forces the mangled steel open, then pushes you through the opening, pointing upward.

Swimming through the cold water, you lose sight of him again. A cold numbness pricks at your skin and you heave in shallow, uneven breaths when you surface. A few seconds pass and you turn in the water, but Steve isn’t there. Ten seconds turns to twenty, turns to thirty, and you’re about to dive back down to find him when he pops up a few feet away from you.

“Jesus, I thought you drowned.” The quiver in your voice has his eyes softening at you, and he shoves something your way. As your hands land on it, you make it out to be one of the pilot’s seats and you thank high heaven that it’s at least half-buoyant.

“F-fuck, Steve-”

“I know.” You’re both panting, shivering, breath stuck in your lungs. “This water’s gotta be about fifty degrees- maybe less. It could be worse, but we’re still in danger, Y/n.”

Even in your turmoil, the idea of Steve being in danger pulls a sarcastic laugh from you. “We?”

He sighs and finds your hand on top of the seat. “You have twenty minutes, maybe, before hypothermia sets in. In this water it’ll progress faster than normal, so you’ll only have an hour or so after that before...”

He trails off and it’s now that you notice the mist in his eyes. It’s not the salt water. It’s fear. And if Steve is scared, you know it’s serious.

“Ok,” you whisper, tearing your eyes away from the man in front of you to look around. A blur of green catches your eyes and you blink fast, a nervous laugh bubbling out of your chest. “Look.” An island stands alone not too far off in the distance, promising of your survival. “How f-far do you th-th-think that is?”

Steve’s brow furrows at your stuttering and he answers honestly. “It’s gonna take longer than you have to get there, Y/n.”

Stomach sinking, you take a second to swallow back your tears and push off the seat keeping you afloat. “Well then I think I’ll d-die a little closer t-to the island instead of in the m-middle of the ocean,” you snap as clearly as you can and start swimming away.

Calling after you, Steve quickly catches up and pushes the pilot’s chair in front of you. “Look, I’m sorry, I just know what’s at stake, here…”

“And I d-don’t?” you shiver violently, grabbing onto the chair while your lungs contract in your torso. Eyes softening at you, you shake your head and muster your strength. “Okay, s-so what’s the game plan?”

Taking charge. Steve is used to leading the efforts and he feels good in his element, even if the crisis he’s trying to prevent is you dying.

“We use this to conserve energy.” He pats the seat. “With the water and the shock of the crash you’re not going to have as much stamina or strength as you normally would. Your best bet is to get as close to land as you can and when your body gives out I can push you the rest of the way on top of the chair, that way you’re not completely immersed.”

Nodding at his plan, you and Steve get to work. Sure enough, less than half an hour later your body begins to lag. Confusion settles in and your eyes can’t focus on any one thing. You’re freezing, but also sleepy in an almost drunk kind of way, and your limbs slow dramatically beside Steve.

“Looks like it’s that time,” he huffs with worry, stopping in the water to collect you and push you up onto the seat.

“‘M fine, Shtevey,” you slur with a slack smile on your now pale face.

You don’t know enough about hypothermia to understand the progression, but Steve does, and he works past his own pain and onset to get you to that island as fast as he possibly can.

You’re slurring your words and muttering to yourself, skin tinged a light blue and eyes crossed. Steve’s working against the current when you garble something he can’t understand, then try to get back into the water.

“What the hell are you doing?” Before he can push you back up onto the seat your muscles lock and the undercurrent he’d been fighting drags you under.

Steve dives after you, finding a piece of fabric in the water and holding on for dear life. When he surfaces and pulls you up, you sputter and cough violently with the water you inhaled. Knowing you don’t have much time left, he pushes you up onto the seat and uses his strength to rip the harness straps, using part of it to strap you to the buoyant side of the seat and the other as a tow line so he can swim without holding onto the seat.

Fading in and out of a dazed and confused state, you faintly register the rise and fall of waves under you, and then you’re sliding and going under again. Something in your brain tells you to move, but you can’t, and the crest of a wave slams into you, pushing you under the surface. Whitewash pulls your hair and limbs every which way and your face hits something hard, then two hands are ripping you out of the water.

“We’re here! We’re here! Hold on, Y/n!”

The world spins and flips and your legs drag in the sand where he’s hauling you up the shore out of the shallows.

“Hey, hey, stay awake!”

Your eyes open at his words and you make out the blur of palm trees when heavy hands force you down to your knees in the sand and he makes sure your glazed over eyes are at least looking in his direction before he speaks.

“Stay here, Y/n. Don’t get back in the water. Stay awake. Just stay here, I’ll be right back.”

You give a mindless nod and Steve rushes off into the line of palm trees that turns into jungle, desperately searching for enough to make a shelter or fire to keep you warm.

The cold subsides within you and all you are is numb and half blind. The ocean waves crashing against the sand behind you roar in your ears and suddenly a wave of stifling heat spreads through you. Shaky fingers reach for the zippers and clasps keeping your suit on, confusion muddling your brain. Removing the top half, your brain is flooded with dopamine and a drunk smile spreads across your face as you fall flat and roll onto your back to kick off your shoes and push off your pants. The world spins fast in front of your eyes, filling you with the feeling of flying, or falling, and the warmth flooding you urges you to remove your clothes. Bra and panties discarded in the sand, you force yourself to your feet, body lurching and swaying as you drag yourself up the beach towards the tall trees, looking for the perfect spot to dig. Numb legs deceive you and you land on your shoulder in the soft sand, eyes blinking lazily against the fall before the sounds of the sea lull you to sleep.

Vines and branches whip at his face and he gathers whatever he can as quickly as possible, worried about leaving you there on the shore alone. When he has enough for a fire he runs back, heart dropping into the pit of his stomach when he clears through the trees again.

“Oh, shit! Shit, shit shit!”

The palm fronds fall to the ground and Steve is at your side in an instant, pushing you onto your back and lightly slapping your face. You’re unresponsive and a growl comes from his throat as he tries to wake you to no avail. As helpful as a fire would be, if he doesn’t warm you right now, you’ll die.

“Fuck!”

Steve strips out of his suit before pulling your naked body into his arms. He rushes you into the trees and finds a spot where the sea wind can’t reach you, laying down a few palm fronds to insulate the ground before laying you down. He slides up next to you, fingers on your neck to check your pulse, and his own heart stops when your pulse is gone.

“No!”

Steve’s cry is left to echo back into his own ears on the lonely island. He refuses to lose you. He won’t let this sandy shore become your grave, so he starts compressions. Tears stream from his eyes and desperation takes up the space in his lungs with every push down on your sternum. Your skin is tinged blue and your eyes are glazed, lifeless, pupils dilated on nothing. None of your beauty is there in the slack pull of gravity. Your face doesn’t even look like your own and it haunts him.

He stops twice to check your pulse and he’s at the end of his rope. When he checks it the third time, a fresh wave of tears fall down his cheeks. It’s faint, but your pulse beats weakly against his fingertips.

“Oh, thank God. Come on, Y/n. That’s it, sweetheart.” That gentle beat is all he needs to hang onto.

Arranging you both on the palm fronds, Steve pulls you into his chest, holding you tightly to him. Every inch of him is wrapped around you and he finds another couple of fronds to pull over you both. Lips in your hairline, he whispers your name, whispers encouragement and praise.

“Come on,” he pleads. “Come on. I love you, Y/n. I love you…”

When the words fall from his lips his heart leaps into his throat and suddenly he’s questioning himself. He’d never even thought about loving anyone after Peggy and the two of you have never been anything more than just friends. But as he says it again, swirls your name off his tongue, he knows deep down that he means it.

Steve holds you for the longest five hours of his life before exhaustion finally takes hold of him and drags him into a dizzy and fearful slumber.

----------

When you slip back into consciousness, your senses take time coming back to you. The first thing you feel is skin on yours. You’re naked and warm and Steve is clinging to you for dear life. The smell of sea salt and sweat fill your nose and his fingerprints are tattooed into your skin with how tight he’s holding you.

Dizzy and confused, you blink slowly, as if your body is on a digital lag. Images blur together in your brain and your eyes try to clear them to focus on the here and now, but the frozen reality is mashed up with the memories, not letting you focus on much of either then, or now. With a dull heartbeat, pain pumps through you. That small blip of pain grows and fills you in seconds and suddenly the dizziness multiplies tenfold. Eyes shooting open, your stomach flips and you tear yourself from Steve’s arms, rolling away from him to wretch into the sand.

Steve is alert in an instant, moving your hair out of your face and rubbing a warm hand over your back as you throw up. “Shhh, take it easy,” he coos, watching you heave for air.

Shivering and sobbing, he holds you until you’re done. The burn of bile and acid in your throat is strong enough to rob you of your words, and you shoot him a thankful grimace when he sees the question in your eyes.

“I’ll fill you in on everything in a bit, okay. How do you feel? Other than,” he gestures to the wet sand beside you, “that.”

A pounding in your head has you wincing your eyes shut and curling in on yourself. “Cold,” you rasp. “Pain.”

Broad hands pull you into his side, rubbing up and down along your back and shoulders. “Okay, let’s warm you up a little more, then I can start a fire and find you some water and food.

You nod weakly and curl into his side, tears staining your cheeks as his warmth seeps into your skin.

Though you’re still weak and recovering, Steve waits until he’s sure you’ll be stable before carrying you down the beach and setting you in the sun. He wanders, finding your clothes and shaking it out, slipping his boots and pants back on before helping you to do the same, offering his top to you for extra warmth.

You aren’t strong enough to move but while Steve works on a fire, you spot what looks like a coconut on the ground a few meters away. When the fronds and branches are lit, Steve checks it out and returns with a smile on his face, cracking it open for you and helping you to take sips of the fresh, sweet water inside.

“If there’s one, there’s gotta be more, right?”

He goes to stand but you catch his wrist and stop him. “I still want to talk about what happened,” you remind him, and he nods.

“We will. Let me take care of you first.”

Letting him go, you watch as he walks down the beach then disappears into the trees. He’s gone for just a few minutes and comes back with more wood and fronds, three more coconuts, and a handful of berries, offering them to you and cracking open a coconut for himself when he plops into the sand beside you.

The sun is sinking down on the water, making it look so gorgeous you almost forget that that water nearly killed you just hours ago. Though your surroundings are that of paradise, there’s a tension rolling off of steve that fills your gut with a sense of dread and worry.

“I- I need you to tell me what happened. I need to know everything.”

He heaves in a deep breath and turns to you, a foreign gleam of sadness in his eyes. “What do you remember?”

A flurry of incoherent thoughts flies through your brain and you try your best to recount everything you can. “Honestly, not much. I remember the crash, holding onto the chair and then you pushing me up onto it. From there it’s really a blur. I remember just getting colder and colder. Confused as all hell. Scared. Then I just-” you sigh, rubbing your hands over your face.

Warmth lands on your back as Steve smooths a gentle hand over your shoulders. “It’s okay. You’re okay, now, Y/n.”

You shoot him a grateful smile, eyes watering as you take his hand in both of yours. “I am. Thanks to you.” Pressing a kiss to his knuckles, your heart beats hard in your chest and even as he tries to hide it, you can see the pink hue spread over his cheeks.

“Your eyes,” you finally say, breaking the warm silence. “I remember your eyes.” The haunted sea blue fills your brain, but when you look back at him, the worry he once held is long gone. “I- I was so scared, and I could see that you were, too. And then we were on the beach and I just- everything in my body told me to take my clothes off. That if I did then everything would be okay.” You huff out a sigh. “I don’t even know what I was thinking.”

“You were trying to save yourself, Y/n. It was paradoxical undressing,” he states. “At a certain point victims of severe hypothermia will undress. As your organs shut down your blood vessels stop constricting and the warm blood rushes from your core. You’re already confused and at that point it feels like a hot flash. You feel like you’re burning up so you undresses to cool off. It’s not long after that that people die.”

“I don’t know if that makes me feel better or worse,” you groan.

“I’m sorry. Do you remember anything after that?”

Shaking your head, you answer, “Nothing. After that everything was just… black.”

His other hand comes to cradle yours, his long fingers skimming over your pulse point, and he sighs heavily. “Sweetheart, you-”

“I know,” you cut him off. That eerie feeling of falling fills the pit of your stomach and you don’t need to hear him say it to know what happened to you. “I know.” A dry laugh escapes you. “Turns out heaven and hell aren’t real. It’s just nothing.”

The numbness in your voice makes him tense at your side and you’re quiet for a long time. Steve’s presence is strong and he wonders if he should tell you. Tell you the secret he didn’t even know he was keeping until he’d lost you. He wonders if you might have a secret of your own...

Before he can finish his internal battle, you speak up. “It was nothing for a while, then your voice was there. I couldn’t tell what you were saying but I knew I had to use it as an anchor, otherwise I’d slip under again. I had no concept of time or my body or anything, and then I woke up. Naked,” you laugh breathily, and Steve smiles earnestly beside you.

“I knew what had happened and what you had to do, and then I was throwing up.” You shift and turn to look at him fully, take in the lines of worry that seem to have sprouted overnight in the outer corners of his eyes and on his forehead. “Thank you, Steve. Thank you for helping me. For bringing me back, and for keeping me alive.”

When you lean forward and press your lips to his, Steve tenses. You wonder if this is too far and you start to pull back when his hands come up to cradle your face and keep your mouth locked to his.

Stomach doing happy flips, you take a chance and deepen the kiss and are rewarded with a tiny moan falling into your mouth. His beard brushes against your palms and tickles your lips, but you sink into it. It doesn’t feel like desperation or some swell of emotion leading you into his arms. It just feels right.

Before you can build any more, he pulls back and rests his forehead against yours. “You should probably rest,” he says, and you let out a small sigh, knowing that he’s right. He kisses you again, soft and fleeting, then stands.

The fire casts shadows over the sand as Steve stands and treks away from you, silhouette illuminated in the distance while he finds a few more coconuts, nuts and berries, and even a couple of bananas for you to eat.

The two of you sit close the rest of the evening, bodies pressed against one another as the warmth from the fire pushes its fingers through your hair. The treeline offers enough shelter from the elements and Steve manages a small wind block for the two of you to sleep behind for the night. He adds to the burning pile of wood and leaves to make sure it stays lit, then his body curls around yours and you nestle into his chest, enjoying the warmth you find there and the way he hums against your temple as you fall asleep.

Steve stays up, holding you in his arms into the wee hours of the night. The gentle sway of the palms overhead give a beautiful view of the glittering stars, and he only lets go of the dream when you shift and roll onto your other side.

He stands, stretching his limbs and rekindling the fire, making sure it’s large enough to last until morning before sidling up behind you and finally falling asleep with his arm wrapped around your waist.

The sun is just making its presence known when you stir awake, Steve’s body warm where it’s pressed against your back. Gently, you extract yourself from his hold and admire him for a moment before deciding to let him sleep. You’re weak, but you manage to walk along the shore, searching for anything to help the situation you’re both in.

A funny movement catches your eye and you’re filled with excitement at the opportunity. Finding a rock large enough to do the job you quickly snatch up the two crabs and smash them, happy to have some food to take back to Steve. Content with the find, you’re about to turn around when something shiny catches your eye in the distance. Pushing yourself that far takes a bit out of you, but when you stand over the gleaming object, tears spring from your eyes.

Steve is jolted from his sleep at the sound of you calling out for him and he’s on his feet the second he sees you running up the shore toward him. “Y/n wha-”

You cut him off, yelling, “I found it!” Heart threatening to burst from your chest, you fall into his arms and you both sink to your knees. “Look! Look what I found!”

Thrusting the radio component from the chopper into his hands, a delirious giggle bubbles in your throat and before you can say anything else Steve’s arms are wrapped around you and his mouth is crashing into yours, a weightlessness filling your head as you kiss him and laugh into his mouth.

“And I found us food,” you add, dangling the crabs in front of him.

Steve’s smile is brighter than the sun and for the first time since the chopper crashed, you feel true warmth inside you. He sets off into the surrounding area to find more wood for the fire and he crafts tools from what he can, cooking the crab for you both as you fiddle with the wiring and try to make the radio come to life. He keeps the fire going, builds it large enough to signal planes and boats and offers moral support as you work on the small device.

After a few hours you let out a frustrated groan and he wraps an arm around your shoulder. “Go ahead, take a break. I mean, I’d offer to help…”

You laugh, then, and lean into his side. “But it seems to run on some form of electricity?”

He chuckles by your side and you take his advice, fading into his warmth and resting a bit before trying again.

It’s mid-afternoon three days after the initial crash when the radio component in your hand flashes blinking lights and fills your ears with static. Heart in your throat, you cling to Steve’s side and radio for help. Static blips on each station until you finally manage to intercept a cargo ship and ask for help.

The thick Boston accent on the other end of the radio puts a smile on your face and Steve rolls his eyes at himself when he asks the captain, “Have you ever heard of The Avengers?”

It’s not long until word travels the wire and Tony’s voice is filtering through the radio in Steve’s hands. “Well, well, well. Serves you right for stopping for a fun island getaway without even inviting the rest of us. I mean, really, Y/n, if you wanted to get the Capsicle alone all you had to do was ask and I would have set it up for you.”

You didn’t even need to see Tony to know the cocky grin adorning his smug face, and if you could have slapped it off through the radio, you would have.

“Quit fuckin’ around, Tony. How long before you can get someone here? Y/n suffered severe hypothermia.” He risks a glance your way and his eyes shine with the truth only the two of you know.

“The jet is already on its way with Helen and Bruce. They should be there in a few hours. Sit tight. We’ll get you guys back home, soon.”

The sincerity carries through Tony’s voice and you sigh happily, leaning into Steve’s side for a moment of utter relief and joy.

----------

Even with his genetically modified body he’d still suffered moderate hypothermia, himself, but in Helen and Bruce’s care back at the compound Steve is fully recovered in less than a day. You, on the other hand, are under careful supervision, even if you feel mostly up to speed. Apparently dying isn’t great for your overall health.

Though you aren’t fond of the constant monitoring, you do find comfort in Steve, who refuses to leave your side.

“You can go, ya know,” you smirk, knowing that he won’t. “I’m fine, now. See?” you wiggle all of your fingers at him and he chuckles.

“What makes you think I’d want to leave you ever again?” he asks, and the tone in the room shifts. His stoic face breaks into a brilliant smile when your heart monitor starts beeping faster. Steve stands and presses a kiss to your warm cheek, shooting a wink your way before making his exit.

An hour later you’re hanging onto Bucky’s arm, shaking your head up at him as he escorts you through the halls towards Steve’s room.

“Don’t blame me for this,” he laughs. “It was his idea and I’m only helping because Helen said it was okay.”

Crossing over the threshold into Steve’s room, you try your best to suppress a smirk. He catches you, though, and you laugh out loud at the set up of monitors and machinery that’s taken over his room.

“I don’t care if you ‘feel fine’,” he air quotes. “They said you needed to be monitored and I volunteered.”

----------

Bucky’s feet are kicked up on the edge of Steve’s bed and his fingers pick at a loose thread on his jeans when he breaks the comfortable silence that had been filling the room since Steve left to find food for you.

“So, uhm, I just want you to know that I’m really happy for you.” Warmth rushes to your cheeks and a charming smile pulls at his mouth. “I mean- I’m happy you’re alive and all… but I’m also happy for you and Steve.”

Clearing your throat, you open your mouth, then stop short. Everything in your body wants to tell him that he’s wrong. He’s made some sort of mistake and all of this is just Steve being nice to his friend. That this is just his nature. But you know that’s a lie and a shy smile blooms on your face when you think back to kissing him on that damned island.

After staring off and getting lost in your own thoughts for a minute or two you finally turn back to him. “I am, too.”

There’s no use denying it, and Bucky chuckles at the truth in your eyes.

A knock on the door breaks the light-hearted moment and Steve stands there with a tray of food and a look in his eyes that tells Bucky it’s time for him to go.

Bucky’s metal hand pats your foot and Steve shoots his friend a thankful smile as he leaves. A few minutes later Bruce pops in to check on you both before you and Steve are finally left alone.

When you’ve both finished eating, Steve urges you closer to him and rubs a calming hand over your arm. “Go ahead and get some rest. I’m right here.”

It isn’t long before you take him up on the offer, and it only takes another few minutes before your steady breathing has him dozing off with you held tight to his chest.

Rain bouncing off the window filters into your ears and you stir awake at the sound of thunder rumbling through the night. Your fuzzy brain wonders if Thor has anything to do with it but before you can think too hard on it Steve shifts beside you.

“Everything okay?” His voice is rasped in a way that fills your gut with warmth and you nod, the dim light in the room glittering in your eyes.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Thank you, again, Steve. For everything on the island. And for this.” You gesture to his room and he hums.

“I couldn’t lose you, Y/n,” he admits in a whisper that lands against your temple. “I know we haven’t been romantic in the past, but when I lost you I realized that...” Steve’s voice trails off and his misty eyes meet yours.

Swallowing past a lump in your throat, you say, “Me, too.”

Relief is visible on his face and he leans in to press his mouth to yours, his kiss fanning the flames of the island fires that brought you together.

Marvel tags: @sebbytrash @abaddonwithyall @becs-bunker @curlyblondexoxo @ellen-reincarnated1967 @plaidstiel-wormstache @samsexualdeancurious @saxxxology @thing-you-do-with-that-thing

#steve rogers x reader #marvel fanfic #steve rogers #star spangled bingo #star-spangled-bingo

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ishgard · 5 years ago

Note

39 for... The Ship.

(Send me a ship and a number and I’ll tell you…)

39. - Who initiated the relationship? Who kissed who first? When did they realize they were in love?

First, things change a bit depending on all sorts of various circumstances - different verse/au’s, etc., also I’m an absolute slut for re-examining different scenarios in which a pairing might finally confess/kiss/etc., over and over because it always delights me. Plus I like to leave room for whatever canon might give me to build off of. But, I’ll go over some of the constants that are typically shared across all of them. Buckle in, kids, this is gonna get wordy.

Actually, best to probably start with ‘when they realized’. For Ahru it almost always kind of starts one night by a campfire when she’s on watch. She had taken the mask he’d thrown at her feet that day in the Burn, and on this night pulls it out. She looks between it and his sleeping face, puzzling over the fact that this is, indeed, the same man. It’s fairly early on in their times traveling together, and less a realization that she’s in ‘love’ so much as a subtle realization that there is some attraction.

Throughout their travels, more and more, she realizes how much she trusts and can rely upon him in all manner of affairs - and this isn’t to say she can’t do that with anyone else. (I feel like sometimes I put such emphasis on this that the Scions and her other friends feel ostracized, which is not the case at all.) It’s simply different in the sense it all feels very personal to her, very outside the norm of the rest of her relationships.

She has responsibilities and certain struggles when it comes to the others, that she feels less inclined to be so uptight and stiff about with herself when she’s with him, humorously enough. This is in part a result of personal growth throughout 4.X/SHB story - she’s learning to trust and rely on others in general, and the timing with Gaius played into that perfectly. Another big thing for her along these same lines is how easily she sleeps around him.

Sleep is… a big thing for Ahru. She’s always struggled with it almost all her life, and the traumas and nightmares her journeys have left her with only make it more trying. This is, again, something she’s been getting better with, but it’s still difficult, especially when she feels like she must always be ready to run off and fight, or protect those around her.

With Gaius, she’s surprised to find how easy it is for her to acknowledge that he’s on watch, and she can rest. Which does wonders for her spirits of course; who wouldn’t feel more content and happy around someone who puts you so at ease? And it’s something he does so effortlessly, hilariously enough - just he, himself, this stern yet passionate man who in many enough ways is both her mirror and her opposite. And that’s kind of the realization that puts it all into perspective.

They are so very different, but they’ve both burned alive and survived, they’ve both been dragged down into cinders and ash and rose up in defiance, forged themselves anew - and it made them better. She begins confiding in him more, seeking his counsel, and finds enjoyment in talking about any little thing with him. Debating subjects of politics and primals, hashing out old wounds and offering as much comfort and consolation as she receives in turn.

She loves his rationality and wisdom - he can at times be stubborn and hot-headed (always a bit of a surprise, tbh, but she loves that too) but he’s not often driven by impulse, which is anchoring for her. (I could really ramble on about things they specifically love about each other for way too long though.)

(this is long lemme break the word wall with something soft)

For Gaius, there was always some measure of acknowledgment - I just really thrive on the idea that even in ARR he had his eye on her and was intrigued to a degree not typical of him. He wanted her at his side, enough to ask her to join him after she’d killed some of his best and most loyal - which… there’s a lot to unpack there, really, but that’s big digressos. There was, on some very base level, attraction, but dismissed out-of-hand in his pursuits. (only to come bite him in the ass with a good ‘Oh.’ later)

Seeing her again in the Burn was unexpected, but something he’d been prepared for. I think he always knew one day their paths would cross again - I don’t think he knew she would be there at Seiryu’s Wall, and his statement “We will meet again, Warrior of Light.” was certain - suggesting a previously held sentiment.

Traveling together, fighting alongside one another, he sees clearly how much she’s changed, how much she struggles - and perseveres. She’s determined, and has such unwavering strength of character despite how much she has struggled and fought with herself. (“You have suffered enough, and warred with yourself, it’s time that you won.”)

He gets to learn more about the woman she is beneath the mantle she now wears, and just what those responsibilities have done to her - and he helps her remember a bit who she used to be, who she still is. Because he starts to bring it out in her - more of her light-hearted teasing, her mischief and levity that he, normally, would dismiss - but ultimately finds endearing.

He’d already long acknowledged her as a warrior, as an individual worthy of his offer to stand alongside him - of course only to realize it was, all along, he who was unworthy. To rule, to lead…

He committed countless, unforgivable transgressions in his past, and lives only for revenge - and she sees that. She understands that - and she forgives it. She can’t wipe it away, she can’t make it better for anyone else in the world, but as they travel together she comes to desperately want him to seek and find something more in life apart from his revenge.

And it’s her. Of course it’s her. He finds a similar ease in her as she does him; the ability to smile and laugh, just a little. Even if the world tells him he doesn’t deserve it - even if he doesn’t - she wants him to, and he does. It’s slight and subtle and in a way that is his own, but it means something. She lightens him - the give and take is cyclical between them and without tally.

When he realizes, it’s… kind of something he already knew. Something that took the back-seat to saving the realm and his reluctance to allow himself anything beyond revenge. But he’s not one to beat around the bush and act a fool, he’s much too old for that. Ahru, on the other hand, is historically bad at allowing her heart to love whoever it’s screaming at her to open herself up to. She buries herself in work and distractions - but it’s different this time. She’s different - and she is so very tired of running and by now she knows how easy it is to simply be and rest in his presence.

So it’s rarely a case of one party making a particularly grand sweeping confession or kissing the other unawares. (Though, I’ll admit in some of my many imagined scenarios I am especially weak to the idea of Ahru ACTUALLY being the first to make a move. She’s not shy by any stretch of the word - except when it comes to being honest about such feelings perhaps - so her finally taking the first step while holding such strong emotions inside herself is Big Progress.)

Typically though, there’s a mutual discussion - which, maybe doesn’t sound like riveting romance material. But it’s heartfelt and it’s true, it’s calm and easing. For Ahru’s part, sometimes there are tears as she breaks through her own walls to tell him that; against all odds, all she wants, so very simply, is to be with him.

Sometimes this happens after they’ve already been intimate - there’s attraction between them already, there are feelings they’ve both had yet to name, and they look at each other and they both know. They know in the way they say each others names, the way they fall into easy patterns both on and off the battlefield, the ways they confide and trust in one another. So they throw together their bedrolls and they fuck it out - but there’s far more emotion there that can’t be denied. However, there’s still a war or some conflict or other that needs dealing with, so there’s no time to hash all that out yet -

No time, there’s never any time - until they make it. And they do. They go on to carve out moments for themselves, even if no one else understands, even if in worst case scenarios no one could possibly accept. They find peace with each other, and it’s something neither of them would ever take for granted.

…Anyway if you read all of this I love you and… I’m sorry? thatwassomuch :’‘‘D

#averysleepyfrog #WHOO #thank you so much!#forgive me for the word vomit #these are the things that sustain me #(let us find the answer together)#answered prompts #so long tumblr is trying to fuck up 'formatting'#there's no formatting tho stop making my paragraphs wonky

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thenonbinarydetective · 5 years ago

Text

MID Overview/Review

Ok so I redid it because tumblr broke the first one. Luckily, it gave me the oppurtunity to fix some of my grammar/spelling mistakes.

It’s actually even longer than before.

I’m thorough what can I say?

besides please read this it took a while.

· On the menu’s Extra Section there’s a trailer for Nancy Drew and the Hidden Staircase (2019). A movie that came out way before this game which is kinda funny

· The movement is a little janky, to put it in professional terms, it’s a little fast and jumpy. It took a bit to get used to the navigation.

· The problem with the movement really jumps out in the end in the tunnels. I could barely get my cursor around the Hardy Boys or even Mei.

· Also in the tunnels, if I went slightly off trail the game would FREAK out. I wanted to look around the tunnels and maybe get a bad end but our Sleuths but I couldn’t look around without being yelled at.

· This happens in other mini games and puzzles, whenever you mess up the characters make a snarky remark in your direction. Every. Single. Time. It would be funnier if it was only on a few occasions but it was every time I “messed up”.

· The graphics were obviously terrible. They also were variable…Somethings looked kinda okay and somethings looked awful. Like the quality changed from time to time. Sometimes even in the same frames. Frank, graphically, looks better than some of the other characters. When he and Joe stood next to each other, they almost looked like they didn’t belong in the same game. This goes for some of the other characters too.

· I don’t get why Frank was always in that pose? Everyone else stood awkwardly but admittedly it was a bit more normal. They stood with their hands towards their hips like how people typically do. Although there was a few times where people just grabbed their wrists for no reason.

· As someone who loves mythology and folklore (and pretty much anything that can be tied to into those) it was really cool to see the Malleus Maleficarum or The Hammer of Witches in the game. I wish it actually had more use in the game and maybe helped in some way. I know the book did some terrible things but it is an interesting read. As I do own a copy of it.

· Also my birthdate was used on the puzzle. Which was cool. It’s fun to be born on special dates. Except my birthday isn’t part of the solution but that’s okay.

· There’s a couple times where Nancy(and Frank) starts talking about clues or reading things out loud before I got the chance to look at them which was super annoying.

· The game crashed multiple times while playing

· The closer look at the clues was nice but was only okayish for me. It didn’t always work that well. Besides I’ve seen other games with the same function that worked smoother.

· I’m not a big fan of the new chat format. I prefer the old way. In this new format a lot of the dialogue options were getting cut off or the option didn’t fully describe what Nancy was going to say so I didn’t know what I was choosing.

· The text boxes were a bit buggy and there were times I couldn’t click on some of the dialogue options.

· The cutscenes were slow and the game had WAY too much talking. There was more talking than gameplay. The game was honestly just walking and talking

· I liked the text messages, they were fun and cute but they didn’t add much to the gameplay

· Lots of objects were clipping into each other

· Loading screens were always glitch

· The audio was off a lot of times. There were times when I could barely hear the characters over the background music or ambience sound. In Austria, I called Ned and Carson and I wouldn’t have even known they were speaking if not for the subtitles. Even after lowering the music and ambience sounds specifically and I still had this issue.

· Also Ned’s voicemail has changed. Did he make up with his sister?

· There were a lot of spelling and grammar mistakes. Almost every other written thing (books, pamphlets, and notes) had some kind of mistake. Hotchkiss’ book is one example.

· There were times when the pop-up text box was harder to read than the written thing. Not all the paragraphs were spaced out far enough in the boxes but were fine on the written thing.

· No “Can’t check that off yet.” The Checklist was unusable by the player. Unlike every other game. It did it automatically which wasn’t fun. I liked using the checklist.

· The game was so linear that I couldn’t really look around or do my own thing. When one thing was down you were immediately shuffled to the next thing. It basically made the checklist unnecessary.

· Terrible Animation. People moved for no reason. Just stuck in the same cyclical animation over and over and over again. They were pretty janky and awkward. Joe was the worst for me, he was constantly twitching on the screen. Frank was stock-still in comparison. No one else was that bad.

· Many of the mouth movements did not remotely match what the characters were saying. Sometimes nonexistent.

· Everyone’s EYES ARE SO WIDE. IT’S LIKE THEY DON’T HAVE EYELIDS. THEY’RE SO OPEN.

· The Parry’s curtains glitch in the sink. There’s a few plants that look weird, they had a neon glow on them. Olivia’s hands are always clipping through her robe and hair. In Moosham Castle there is a thing that’s inside a table. Both the Hardy Boys’ feet (and maybe other characters) were entirely in the ground at times. There were plenty of other problems like that.

· If I looked around a certain way while everyone’s talking at the Parry kitchen table Frank’s entire body disappears with the exception of his neck and watch.

· Some of the windows had a view of the town outside but other windows have this shine that you can’t see through.

· I’m not thrilled about the bystanders. Only the protest guy really helped. Over all they didn’t add to the game or help me at all.

· Dr. Hirst’s silhouette was kinda weird

· Also why did the game start in Austria??? That’s just weird? I thought we were just gonna start with Deirdre calling us but whatever

· I really hate the needless and honestly misplaced drama. Why couldn’t we talk to Ned and why haven’t we talked to Ned. It really pissed me off. Why would you put this directly after Ned’s whole “I Love and Support- This Could Basically Be a Proposal” Speech in Sea of Darkness? It’s just super off

· Not to mention the fact that the “Francy” moments in this game felt super forced. I don’t like what it does to their characters too. It feels like Ned isn’t trusting Nancy, which is crazy because he trusts her with his life. Frank is the more awkward Hardy Brother but that was ramped all the way up. Also Nancy completely ignoring Ned? What? They don’t feel like themselves here. It’s just off. This tone should’ve been brought in so soon, chronologically, after SEA. It’s out of place.

· Who was the female voice that was in the phone call with Ned? That was never answered. Was that a drama plot that was unfinished? Why not take it out of the game if you’re never going to resolve it? Why start an unnecessary relationship drama that’s both half-assed and unfinished?

· It’s kinda weird how in the end Nancy leaves the Parry house and calls Ned and we can hear her side of the conversation but not his. She’s just talking to herself.

· The phone friends were basically useless. If it wasn’t for the flashlight and the checklist I would say that Nancy didn’t even need her phone. And I guess talking to Damian Faulkner. 95% of the calls I made just went to voicemail. I want to chat about the case, talk to my friends, and get hints like we used to. I didn’t even know we could call Dr.Hirst about the ergot poisoning. I only found out on accident. I don’t know how many conversations I missed. Calling people used to feel important but here it doesn’t even need to be in the game it’s so useless.

· Just because this bugs me I don’t like the Hardy Boys starting their own detective agency. They began their work by working for their Dad. Who is a private investigator/private detective. Who runs a Detective Agency. Why would they start their own?? If you’re gonna make this a family business why not make it a family business? Right?

· May February, 1692 was an actual date they used. I think it was supposed to be February and they changed it to May. Earlier in the same note they used May so I’m guessing they didn’t properly finish the rest of the note.

· The lockpick game was visually glitch for me and the game itself didn’t work that great for me

· Joe’s hair makes him look like a fake blond lol. There are parts of his head (by the nape of his neck for example) that have brown hairs. Also some parts of his hair didn’t load properly on occasion and underneath was brown. Did he dye it?

· Which brings me to my next point. The hair was animated horribly. Frank and any of the other short and simple haired characters were okay. But probably only because they had short and simple hair. The longer haired characters were not as well animated.

· I randomly got double the Johnny Cakes when I made them. So Teegan and Olivia got extra.

· I will admit that making the Johnny cakes wasn’t the worst cooking minigame we’ve had in the games before.

· Frank getting the Frankenstein ones were a little obvious. It also didn’t feel as personal as the other ones oddly enough. We had a fun little dialogue about the design with everyone but Frank. He just got some cringey “I’ll eat these right away” kind of dialogue.

· I wish the truth serum was actually useful. Solving Tituba’s poem and going a bit out of the way to get the ingredients led me to believe it would be used for more than some “fun” dialogue choices. Joe and Deirdre are the only ones to use it. Which leads to some cute moments in which Deirdre admits she actually kinda likes and admires Nancy. I love her. Joe says he always tells the truth (no) so he doesn’t know how to tell if it works. I love him.

· Maybe it’s just me or the audio was off but Carson sounded different in Austria than he did in Salem.

· The use of the ergot poisoning was kinda of awesome. It’s one of the most popular theories on why Salem went bonkers and it was interesting to see it used to trick our favorite sleuths.

· The note to save Deirdre didn’t appear when I clicked on it. Frank (and I think Joe) reacted to it but it didn’t let me examine it. The bug fixed itself by closing the examination and clicking on it again.

· I love how the “ghosts” were handled. Especially them being hallucinations. My favorite was in the cemetery with the Hardy Boys and Olivia. The screen got kinda weird and everyone started to get worked up and really tense. They started fighting and you could see Abigail before they did. The build up to it was fantastic. The other scenes were cool too.

· The tunnels where the “ghosts” jumped out at every wrong (and sometimes right) turns while you’re desperately trying to escape the tunnels with Mei was pretty awesome. One of the jumpscares even got me.

· THERE WAS NO ENDING LETTER. She wrote a letter to Ned in the beginning but she never wrote a second one. Sure we sorta got to see how everything turned out at the party but it’s not the same. It doesn’t feel properly ended.

· I lowkey ship Jason and Mei. I could totally picture the two of them making out in those hidden tunnel rooms beneath Salem. Not just because I would too. This easily could’ve been another unfulfilled romance sideplot.

· Some of the books/notes really didn’t feel that helpful. I did learn some new things about Salem but I don’t feel we used the knowledge we gained properly in the game.

· The Jack O Lanterns were fun.

· The parallels between the Judges of the Witch Trials and Judge Danforth was a pretty interesting plot point. There definitely is a difference between accusing witches and accusing someone of arson when they were 9.

· Teegan’s guilt for both the shed and Hathorne house was something I didn’t really expect. It was a good plot twist. I can see how it was hinted earlier on by Lauren who says “Teegan likes to protect what’s important to her, sometimes that’s Mei.” Sometimes being the key word.

· The Hardy Boys being home-made ghost hunters was hysterical and adorable. I want them to have their own games soooo badly.

· I am completely on Joe’s side that we can’t prove that ghosts don’t exists, even if we can’t prove they do exist.

· I knew Alicia was the bad guy the second she started shit-talking Ned without knowing him. Only bad people don’t like Ned. He would never force Nancy to become a housewife, that’s not who she is and he loves her for who she is.

· I did “OK Boomer” Judge Danforth. He deserved it.

· I loved the little tidbits that we got of Frances’ and Lauren’s relationship we got to hear about. It’s really sweet.

· The comparison of Jason being a fast food cheeseburger with extra extra extra cheese and Ned being a home-cooked meal is perfect. Home-cooked meal is a great way to describe Ned.

· Either way they’re both snacks.

· Ok Jason’s ugly in these graphics but it was implied he was supposed to be hot.

· Jason could’ve been a true himbo but unfortunately he wasn’t

· TBH Ned, Carson, and Damian were the most attractive characters in the game. Only because they weren’t subjected to these graphics.

· I loved the Ghost Wavelength Spectral Analyzer 2.5 the Joe Hardy Guide to Amazing Finds but I hate the spectral analyzer itself. That mini-game was the WORST. It took forever!

· Alicia was straight up just gonna kill everyone. I’m doubting her biology knowledge.

· Also if you wanna raise kids in a more “modern” environment just freaking move. I know there was money in that real estate deal but there’s real estate in other towns.

· I love Deirdre. She’s really funny and kinda sweet. Even though she likes Ned (and maybe Nancy too lol) she doesn’t try to break them up or get between them. At least not anymore. She knows how much Ned loves Nancy. She even gave Nancy relationship advice. Which Nancy desperately needs because she terrible at this.

· This is just me but I kinda wish Nancy had an original idea for their vacation instead of just going back to Austria. Maybe let Ned pick this time because he’s the one who has to play catch up all the time and it’s only fair.

· Carson’s an adorable dorky dad and the only rich white man I trust. I’ve said it in my tweets and I will say it until I die. No one can take that away from me.

· This may be repetitive but I don’t like what this game did to Ned, Frank, and I guess even Nancy too. Ned knows about Frank’s feelings for Nancy. And now needless, useless, meaningless drama is gonna happen. I hate it I hate it I HATE IT!

· Just the relationship drama didn’t add a thing to this game. It was stupid. Especially because it was unfinished. It should’ve just been taken out.

· Joe looks 13 and way to skinny. He’s the brawn to Frank’s brain. Yes, he’s smart too and Frank isn’t weak. However, Joe is way stronger than him. If there has to be a scrawnier Hardy Boy, it’s Frank and we all know it.

· To quote Joe he’s got Man Strength™.

· Cause “Boy” is only part of the title, but Hardy Men doesn’t have quite the same ring to it.

· At times it feels like that the creators forget that Joe’s supposed to be smart too. There were times where it felt like they made him a total idiot. Though that could be personal too.

· Frank being a total Captain Obvious, perfect.

· They’re both puppies that got turned into human boys. Frank is just a calmer puppy

· Love that Mei’s going to Waverly but some of the other references fell flat. The Cat thing and the “I only smoke when I’m on fire” thing. It’s just not the same.

· Jason deserves the Not-As-Much-of-a-Jerk-as-You-Could-Have-Been Award.

· Mei’s a sweetie when she finally lets you in.

· The multiple endings seemed to have changed from different culprits to just what happens to Hathorne House and/or Teegan (I think). They seem to be pretty much the same. I did expect that as that has often been my experience with “multiple endings” games.

· I’m glad that both the Accused Witches and Lauren can get the house. It seems right for that to happen.

· Olivia’s pretty funny. I have a thing for eccentric characters. And it was funny how she tried to induct us into the coven at the end.

· The red/ginger hair superstition is a real superstition and I’m glad it was used. It’s for witches, werewolves, and vampires. Not just that gingers have no souls. (from the Malleus Maleficarum)

· If there is another game, I hope it’s the Nedcy vacation. And that we actually get to see Ned lol. I don’t get why he has never made an in-game appearance. It’s a little unfair at this point.

· Considering Emerson College is 39 minutes away from Salem and we still didn’t get him, I doubt it. Even though they mentioned both Salem and kidnapping Ned in Labyrinth of Lies.

· Also that the next one feels more like a Nancy Drew game.

· There’s no puzzles and there’s so much changed that it doesn’t have the same feel to it.

· This doesn’t feel like it took 4 ½ years to make. It feels like it took less than ½ a year. I can tell that things have changed because pretty much all the people who worked on it originally got fired. And that the Austrian game development company that took over everything (besides licensing) struggled to match the quality of the previous games.

· It definitely wasn’t beta-tested or was barely beta-tested. Quite a few beta-testers have come forward to say they didn’t get the offer to beta-test until September of this year. A month before preorder. Yikes.

· I know I got a little mean for some of the points but coddling the company by just saying positive things doesn’t help. They’ll get comfortable and give the fans worse things than this. I’m not an expert but I’ve played and learned enough games that I know some basics about how they’re made. It’s not easy but that doesn’t mean we should excuse things because of it.

· There’s been a lot of controversy with HER and Penny and this game and probably more. I’m not gonna get more into that besides mentioning that things changed because of this and not for the better.

· I probably missed somethings but whatever this is over 3000 words. I covered the basics and then some.

· This game is just a 2.5/5 for me

#nancy drew #mid spoilers #midnight in salem #ned nickerson #nancy drew games #herinteractive #frank hardy #joe hardy #the hardy boys #the hardy brothers #mei parry #teegan parry #olivia ravencroft #lauren holt #judge danforth #jason danforth #alicia cole #deirdre shannon #carson drew

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imaginarybird · 5 years ago

Text

Unwilling and unable to face everyone on her own when it comes time to attend Auggie and Ava’s wedding, Riley Matthews hires a solution in Lucas Friar. Loosely based on The Wedding Date.

Part One // Part Two // Part Three // Part Four // Part Five // Part Six // Part Seven // Part Eight // Part Nine

Rating: Around a PG 13/14

Notes: Well, I’d apologize how long it took to get this done and promise never to do it again but I think we all know it’s entirely possible given my track record. But I promise that I’m never gonna abandon the fic until it’s done so you will get an ending eventually.

Continuing over from last chapter is a blanket content/trigger warning for some non-graphic, veiled references to depression/suicide/death.

In this chapter, an explanation is given.

page break since they took the function away wtf tumblr

“I wanna see what Claire can do.”

“I can’t do anything.”

“Now, everybody can do something.”

Lucas gets back to their room at the bed and breakfast about an hour after leaving the restaurant, and finds Riley curled up on the bed in a nest of blankets and pillows and watching The Breakfast Club on her laptop.

His first instinct after realizing that Riley had fled from the disaster of a party had been to try and call her cell phone, but that instinct had been proven faulty when, with one phone ringing up against his ear, Lucas had felt a second phone buzzing in the pocket of his khakis and remembered that Riley had asked him to hold onto hers due to a lack of pockets in her dress. She hadn’t retrieved the car from the valet and kids working there had insisted that they hadn’t seen her since they had dropped off the car at the start of the night (and Lucas had had plenty of time to ask around in the twenty minutes it had taken to retrieve the vehicle). With no way of reaching his client and no idea of where she might go aside from their hotel, he’d had no choice but to make the drive back and hope that she was already there or at the very least was safe wherever she ended up.

Finding her back in the room, safe and not completely devastated is a relief. He doesn’t know when exactly she decided to run or how much of Eric’s revelations she had heard, but he had been more than a little worried that the violation of her trust and humiliation would have been enough to do her in, regardless of the strides she had seemingly been making earlier in the day (and given exactly what Eric divulged the most irrational parts of Lucas’ brain had been busy visualizing exactly what he might find if it had for the entire ride home). Actually seeing her helps Lucas to breathe again.

Seeing her watching one of his favorite movies leaves him feeling a bit more even-footed with where she stands and how he might be able to be there for her moving forward.

The Breakfast Club has always been the visual equivalent of comfort food for Lucas--with just the right balance of humor and drama and everything else to not be too much no matter what mood he’s in, and helping him even things out and return to zero when he needs to. That Riley had gone back to the room and set to watching it after the night she had had leads him to believe that it holds a similar place in her heart. Just one more thing they seem to have in common.

She’s further in the movie than should be possible, but he reasons that she might have skipped ahead to a part that she wanted to watch.

He does that sometimes too.

Lucas kicks off his shoes at the door, only speaking when he’s seen her eyes on him so he knows he’s not starling her. “You made it back safe?”

She glances down, blushing. “I ran down the street a bit to a bar and had them call me a cab.” She discloses softly. Her voice is strained, giving away that there had at least been some tears in the hour since they’ve seen each other. “I had some cash in my bra to pay them, and the manager here let me back into the room. I’m sorry I left.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t notice to come with you.” Lucas crosses the room, sitting on the edge of the bed. He doesn’t want to invade Riley’s space, particularly when he knows she’s feeling vulnerable, but he doesn’t want to talk from across the room either. Apologies shouldn’t come from a distance. Not if you mean them. “I let my curiosity get the better of me and I got distracted from what was really important.”

“No one with a pulse could look away from that fiasco.” Riley shakes her head, dismissing the amends. She pushes away from her makeshift nest and sits up. She’s still dressed for the party.“I needed to be alone for a little while anyway.”

Given that it’s barely been an hour (less really if he factors in the time she spent getting back to the bed and breakfast) Lucas considers offering to go out and let her have her space for a while longer. It’s not that late and there are plenty of restaurants and bars in the area that stay open well into the night. Hell, he’d be happy just going to swim some laps somewhere and working out some of his own angry energy, vacillating under the surface over the damage that Riley’s so-called family have managed to cause her. If Riley needs time by herself, it would be easy to give it to her.

“Do you want me to--,”

“Do you think it’s true?” Riley interrupts him.

Her question comes in a soft, uncertain tone that doesn’t seem like a good fit on her to Lucas, and he realizes quickly that he’s not sure what she’s asking about; Cory and Eric had made a lot of claims while shouting at each other--any one of them might make her question things when she’s already vulnerable. “Do I think what’s true?”

“What they’re talking about…” She casts her eyes back to the laptop.

“It’s unavoidable. It just happens.”

“What happens?”

“When you grow up, your heart dies.”

“Do we all just...lose our ability to love and become our parents? Is that what’s waiting for us?”

OK. So maybe The Breakfast Club isn’t always the best choice for a movie.

Lucas has always just found it comforting to see a group of kids he could really relate to opening up and being honest and finding small ways to buck at the system that’s strangling them, and he’s never gone down the path of wondering if there’s any truth to the cyclical nature of the world the characters are worried about.; since giving up on trying to please his family he’s been so certain that he’ll find a way to be better than them that he hasn’t had to. But for Riley--who had, as best as Lucas can discern, experienced her parents’ transition from loving and caring to conditional and dismissive--becoming some version of her parents is a very real fear. Of course it would be.

He leans across her to press the spacebar and pause the movie, lest they go further down the existential rabbit hole (not to mention, he knows what confession is coming up and while he can’t be sure if what Eric let slip about Riley’s state of mind when she left her family is true, Lucas hardly thinks an extra reminder on the subject will be helpful either way). “Riley,” he says as he draws back, “I’ve spent the last week wondering how outside of appearance you could possibly be related to your parents. Believe me, you’re nothing like them.”

“They never used to be like them either. I mean...when I was little, they were great. It’s just that the older I got...I didn’t need them in the same way and they didn’t understand me and they just...stopped trying. They drifted further and further, and put their focus on the people they thought needed it more. And then when I stopped following their plans and making the choices they thought were best for me...it was like I stopped being their daughter at all. I was just...the disappointment who shared their DNA.”

Riley tears her eyes away from the frozen movie. She only glances at him before looking down at her fidgeting hands, but it’s just long enough for Lucas to see the pain she’s grappling with.

“Lucas, the idea that one day I might hurt someone like that, that I might do that to my child...It’s terrifying.”

“If there is one thing I am 100% certain about all of this, it’s that you are in no way capable of being that awful to someone.” Lucas can’t entirely explain his confidence given that he’s only been around for a few days to observe her, but he knows--just knows-- that Riley’s not the sort of person who could hurt someone the way her family has hurt her. Even unintentionally. He doesn’t believe for a second that she has enough malice in her heart to treat anyone that poorly and he can’t bear the thought of her spending any time whatsoever doubting and torturing herself over something that could never happen. “You are, without question, a bigger and better person than the people who raised you.”

“You can’t possibly know that.”

“Of course I can. Do you think for one second that if the situation were different, and your parents had to walk into a lion’s den like this that they could show up with a smile on their face and not cause a scene? Do you think they’d bother to show up at all?”

“I only came back because Auggie asked me to.” Riley shakes her head in protest. “That doesn’t make me better than them.”

Lucas lays a hand on top of hers, partly to reassure her that he’s not buying into her argument, and partly to ground himself; he’s here with Riley and helping her and as long as that’s the case, he doesn’t have to, and in fact can’t, give into his anger over the self-doubts her family has caused. “You came back for Auggie, even though you knew dealing with just about everyone else would be awful, because he’s your brother and you love him and you would have felt terrible letting him down. In a similar position, would your parents have made the same sacrifice? Would Josh and Maya? Or anyone else here?”

Riley doesn’t give him an answer.

“That’s what makes you better than them. You’re here in an impossibly difficult situation, standing tall in the face of all this...shit being thrown at you and barely sending a single angry word back, even though some of these people really deserve it. You are so strong and open and caring...There’s not a doubt in my mind that it would be impossible for you to turn into your parents, even if you wanted to.”

“I wish I had your confidence.”

Lucas takes in everything--Riley’s softness and the way her eyes flick down to their joined hands and her teeth worrying at the corner of her lip--and he feels his heart clench. It hadn’t taken him long after meeting her for Lucas to realize just how much Riley really had going for her, leaving him wondering why she needed to use an escort like him the first place, but the more he’s gotten to know her, the more painfully obvious it’s become that she just doesn’t see the same strengths in herself that he can see in her.

He brushes his thumb across the back of her hand, pressing down gently. “Riley, do you trust me?”

“Of course I trust you.”

Riley’s gentle smile and forehead crinkled ever-so-slightly in confusion plow into Lucas and it’s all he can do to keep himself from closing the short distance between them and drawing her into another kiss. It’s not the time, Friar. She’s had a roller coaster of a night and she doesn’t need your feelings mucking it up even more. Besides, she’s a client. Whatever you think is there, it’s not. He settles for fully taking his hand in his and squeezing. “Then trust that I’m telling you the truth and that I’m seeing the best in you, even when you can’t.”

Riley’s eyes slide closed. She takes a deep, controlled breath, her head tilting backwards as she exhales, shaking her head ever so slightly.

“What’s wrong?” Lucas frowns. He’s not sure what reaction he was expecting, but this isn’t it. Riley seems almost pained.

“People don’t say things like that.” Riley says. She brings her head back down, opening wet eyes to look at him again. Thumbing at the tears that are threatening to spill over, she looks away just as quickly, her gaze landing on her lap. “Not to me.”

Lucas doesn’t think about what he’s doing. He just wants Riley to look at him. To understand that these aren’t just lines he says to any old client. That he 100% means what he’s saying.

He reaches over with his free hand, easing Riley’s chin up with the knuckle of his bent finger. “Then you haven’t been talking to the right people.”

Riley’s eyes go wide, but she doesn’t blink. Her jaw twitches, but she doesn’t open her mouth. Whatever response is lying in wait on her tongue, she swallows around it.

“Riley, you are...extraordinary.” Lucas says, his hand still hovering just beneath her chin. “And I don’t understand how nobody here sees it, or why the people in your life aren’t tripping over themselves every day to tell you, but you are. You have to believe that you are.”

Riley blinks. Her eyes flick down, then lock on his. She doesn’t speak. Several moments pass.

“I know it’s not-,”

“They all think I’m selfish. Self-centered.” Riley blurts out. She ducks away from his hand, pulling her own arm back. “Half the time I think they’re right.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

Riley speaks after taking a deep breath. “I met Charlie Gardner in preschool. And even back then he was a charmer.”

“Momma! Daddy! Come meet Char-lee!” Riley runs to meet her parents at the door of the classroom. It’s not every day that she gets to have both of her parents at the same time--they both have a lot of responsibilities (her dad told her that was a grown-up word for doing things you don’t like instead of what you really want to be doing)--but today was her first day of preschool so it was special. She has so much to tell them about her day about all of the games they played and nap time and the snacks, but most of all she wants them to meet Charlie.

She grabs onto their hands and pulls them across the room, almost running into a partially constructed block tower and stumbling a little over an abandoned doll to the small table in the corner where she and Charlie have been coloring.

“Char-lee, this is my mom and my dad. I call them momma and daddy, but they’re not your parents, so you can just call them their names. Cor-ee and Tuh-pan-guh.”

Charlie stops his drawing and holds out his hand “‘S nice to meet you.”

“And it’s lovely to meet you.” Her mom shakes his hand with a smile.

Riley grins back. “Momma, Daddy, this is my boyfriend Char-lee.”

“Your what now?”

“Mr. Cory,” Charlie turns to her dad with a serious expression on his face, “when Riley is a grown-up lady, can I marry her?” “Sounds familiar.” Lucas comments when Riley reaches an obvious break in her story.

Riley nods. “Everyone thinks so. Charlie and I ‘dated’,” and here she puts finger quotes, “through kindergarten, when his parents got divorced and he moved with his mom out of the city. I missed him a lot, but it wasn’t long before I had plenty to distract me.”

It’s the first recess on the first day of first grade and Riley’s enjoying herself, picking some of the flowers growing at the edge of the playground fence. Most of her class is over on the blacktop playing a game of tag, or taking turns on the swingset, but no one had asked her to join them. She doesn’t really mind. She and Charlie hadn’t played a lot with the rest of the class last year so it’s not like she’s missing anything, and she’s used to making her own fun.

“Reminiscin’ this and that and havin’ such a good time,

“Oo-de-lally, oo-de-lally, golly what a day.”

She skips along, plucking a flower every few steps and singing a song from one of her favorite movies., not a care in the world. Then a little down the ways she spots another girl, blonde, with messy pigtail braids and scruffy pink jeans, climbing around the monkey bars by herself. Riley doesn’t think she’s ever seen her before.

A new girl playing by herself who doesn’t even look like she’s having fun? That’s just not right.

Riley bounds over to the monkey bars, and when the blonde swings down to the ground, Riley grins and thrusts her makeshift bouquet into her face. “Hi, I’m Riley! I brought you these.”

The girl blinks at Riley, looks down at the flowers as she takes them from Riley’s outstretched hand, and back at Riley before she smiles. She’s missing a tooth. “Maya Penelope Hart.”

“Maya and I were fast friends.” Riley pulls her knees up to her chest, looping her arms around them and resting her chin. “Inseparable. By Christmas she was like one of the family. If I did something Maya was there, and if Maya did something… well most of the time I was trying to stop her or getting dragged along for the ride.”

“Bit of troublemaker?”

“No. I mean….yeah, she did a lot of stupid stuff and had attitude that could power a small city if science could figure out how to convert it. Still does, from what I can tell. But really she was just a kid whose family didn’t have a lot of money and whose parents didn’t get along all that well and then her dad just up and left one day...she was angry and hurt and decided that if she made herself tough enough nothing else would hurt her.

“She had her problems but everyone does. And I was brought up that friendship means sticking with a person and setting an example. Giving and doing everything you could to help them grow into a better version of themselves.”

An admirable standard, Lucas thinks, but a lot to lay across the shoulders of a kid. Especially one with an already open heart. “That sounds like a lot to live up to.”

“It was. But it didn’t always feel like it. It just felt like... I had a best friend.”

“What’s your favorite color?”

Riley looks at Maya across the lunch table; all day her friend has been asking these sorts of questions --favorite animal, favorite tv show, favorite tv character--and Riley can’t figure out why, all of a sudden, after three months of friendship Maya is curious about that sort of thing. “Oh, I like every color.”

Maya shakes her head. “Yeah, but if you had to pick one. Or maybe two. Three tops.”

“Hmm…” Riley considers the options carefully. Favorite colors are no joking matter. “Blue. And red. And purple!”

“Interesting. Very interesting.”

A week later, at Riley’s birthday lunch, Maya hands her what used to be a plain white envelope, but that has been decorated with Maya’s somewhat familiar art style and is covered with cats and bunnies and flowers. Riley opens the envelope very carefully to preserve the art (much to Maya’s impatience) and finds a braided bracelet.

A friendship bracelet. Like Riley’s seen some of the older girls at school exchange. It’s her favorite gift of the day.

Lucas shifts so he’s sitting next to Riley on the bed, feet up and off the floor; this is shaping up to be a lengthy conversation and he wants to be comfortable for it. “It sounds like you were really close.”

“Thunder and Lightning, that was us.” Riley confirms. “We never really had a big friend group but we always had each other, and it was all we needed. My family loved her and welcomed her with open arms even when she was getting into trouble… They all liked to say that she was the Shawn to my Cory.”

It shouldn’t surprise Lucas to hear the comparison--to have it officially confirmed that people were laying the weight of not one extraordinary, one in a million, relationship across Riley’s shoulders, but two--yet it somehow still leaves him stunned. Most of the adults he knows can’t handle living in the shadow of something like that, and she’s been dealing with it for over twenty years...And from all sides it seems like. “From what you told me that’s an impossible standard.”

“I was little and it was the story I had been told all my life. I just...thought I was lucky.” Riley shakes her head. “That I had such great examples in my parents and had found a good person so I was able to build a friendship as great as my dad and Shawn’s, and I’d keep it as long as I put the work in.”

But something went wrong along the way. Obviously. Riley would almost certainly rather get a root canal than deal with Maya and the barbs Maya sends her way are far from the light teasing of a best friend, even distanced by time. She’s been downright hostile, and those on Riley’s side like Auggie and Eric are more than happy to return the favor. “So what changed?”

“For a long time, nothing. Maya and I were best friends. In middle school Charlie’s mom got remarried and he ended up back in the city at our school and it was like he’d never been gone. We got back together and everything was perfect.”

The parallels now are more than blatant and Lucas can see where the next bit of pressure will come in, but Riley keeps talking so he doesn’t get a chance to say anything.

“I had my Shawn in Maya, my Topanga in Charlie.... I even had my own Minkus in Farkle.”

The names click together in Lucas’ mind. “Wait. That was really Farkle Minkus belting out Queen back there?” He had, of course, thought that the impossibly skinny man he had caught glimpses of on the stage while trying to help Eric and Shawn wrangle Cory looked familiar, but had dismissed his idea as a trick of the eye and mistaken identity. After all, why would the heir to one of the world’s richest and most innovative technology companies be at a party for a comparatively small wedding in Cape Cod?

“His parents went to school with mine. And then he went to school with me. Auggie’s not super close with him or anything but they were always friendly and our families our close enough to merit an obligation invite. And apparently an obligation attendee.” From the rain clouds in Riley’s eyes that seem to shift and darken with her explanation, Lucas ascertains that there are likely problems between her and Farkle as well, though perhaps not quite as contentious as those with Maya or her family. “Anyway, he was one of our little group of misfits. Farkle, Maya, Charlie, and me.

“For a couple years, the four of us did everything together. Maya and I were best friends, Charlie really helped Farkle come out of his shell, I think we all helped Maya grow into a more hopeful, happier person... and Charlie and I were in love. At least, as much as you can be at that age.” Riley stops talking, casting her eyes down.

It doesn’t take a genius to see that the story is about to take the turn that truly starts the trouble; all the seeds have been planted, all they need is a good rainstorm to sprout up into a craptastic garden of problems. Lucas prompts her softly when she doesn’t restart her story. “Then what happened?”

Riley looks up, with an expression that Lucas can’t quite read on her face. “Maya’s world crashed down.”

It takes Riley a moment to notice the persistent tapping at her window. She’s half asleep, having gone to bed nearly twenty minutes ago, but when her brain finally registers the sound her eyes snap open. Her parents insist that she keeps her bay window locked at night, and her friends normally respect the curfew, but it is their preferred entrance to the apartment so she knows if someone is showing up late at night, something major has happened.

Sure enough, in the glow of her novelty bunny night light, she can just make out Maya on the other side of the glass. Riley’s out of bed, unlocking the window in an instant.

“Maya--,”

“Can I stay here for a while?” Maya cuts her off, blowing past her as she crawls through the window to. She quickly stands and starts to pace at the foot of the bed.

“Of course.” Riley nods, trying to keep track of Maya’s whirlwind pace. Her friend doesn’t have a bag with her, which makes her think that she decided to leave her place suddenly, and a part of her wonders if Maya had bothered to let Katy know that she was leaving, let alone where she was going. “You know you’re always welcome here. But why? I thought tonight was the night.”

Maya stops in her tracks, facing away from Riley. “Shawn said no. Mom asked, and he said no and they broke up.” She turns around, her face scrunching up as she tries and fails to contain her tears. “My mom and Shawn broke up.”

“Wait.” Lucas blinks, trying and not quite managing to process the information. “Are you talking about your dad’s Shawn? He dated Maya’s mom?”

Riley seems to consider her answer for a brief moment. “Shawn and Maya have a lot in common. When they met he connected with her right away. I think he probably saw himself--who he was when he was a kid--in her and wanted to help her see that things could get so much better than what she was feeling. Hanging around more to be there for that led to him meeting Katy and after a little bit of contention, there were sparks, so they started dating. But…”

“But?” Lucas probes. It takes him a brief study of her face as he waits for her to continue to realize that her careful consideration of her words isn’t reticence to share on the subject, but her thinking about all of the past events and relationships, probably applying a mature and further outside perspective than she could have managed as a teen.

“But while Katy was falling in love with one of the first stand-up guys to walk into her and Maya’s life, and Maya was starting to think of Shawn as her dad and that she and her mom were gonna get a happy ending and have a family, Shawn was...I think he was enjoying being the hero and the mentor. Not a lot of people have ever looked at him like that. And when we were sophomores and Katy asked him to move in, he realized that they were on separate pages, and he couldn’t stay in the relationship. He said no and broke things off to do the right thing.”

Ouch. Lucas has been on both sides of that break up before and it’s not a good place. You either feel like a moron for not being able to read your partner and see what they’re feeling, or like a grade-A jerk for being the one to break their heart; he can’t imagine being a kid who thought they were getting a family out of it all and finding out that that was never really in the cards. “I’m guessing Maya didn’t see things that way.”

“No she didn’t.” Riley shakes her head. “And the fallout was bad.”

“You gave Maya an F on her term paper?!” Riley storms into her dad’s classroom just after school lets out, unable to control her disbelief and anger after her friend had sullenly begged out of their afternoon plans, apparently due to her mother grounding her via text after Riley’s dad had called to give her an update on Maya’s latest school troubles. “And a week of in-school suspension?! You know yours is one of the only classes that she even bothers to try in anymore and if you fail her she’s--,”

“I gave Maya an incomplete,” her father corrects, the picture of calm as he puts down his pen on top of the quizzes he’s grading and removes his reading glasses, “because she turned in an essay that she bought online that I’ve already read three times this year from other kids. And instead of turning her into the Honor Committee like I did the other students , I gave her the in-school suspension to serve in the library to give her the opportunity to write the paper properly and get an actual grade on it.”

“Maya wouldn’t--,” Riley stops herself this time. Because she knows her protest would be a lie. The Maya from last year, or even just three months ago wouldn’t have considered cheating and buying an essay , but the Maya that’s been showing her face with increasing frequency lately almost certainly would. She sighs, feeling her ire rush out of her chest in a flood.

Maya had been steadily improving since middle school. Trying hard in all of her classes, building a good relationship with her mom, talking about paths she might take after school--some of which even included attending college.

But ever since Katy and Shawn broke up, it’s like Maya’s forgotten every bit of growth she’s made. She’s rebuilt her tough shell and attitude in record time, shutting everyone but Riley out (and sometimes even her). She’s skipping out on homework and classes, and Riley knows a few people have said that she’s been starting to circle around some of the school’s most notorious burnouts… Nothing Riley has tried has gotten through to her, and she knows everyone’s waiting for things to go back to normal. For her to get things back to normal.

“Dad, I don't know what to do. I don’t know how to help her.”

Her dad leans back in his chair. “Riley, you know how hard it is for people like Maya and Shawn to admit that they want something, and then to have hope dangled in front of her only to have it snatched away...that’s not easy to deal with. She’s hurting in a big way, and it’s not going to disappear overnight.”

“But I’m her best friend! I know I can’t make it all go away but it’s my job to make sure she gets through it.”

“She needs to see that even though she didn’t get this, that doesn’t mean she’ll never get anything she wants.” Her dad advises. “You need to give her a win.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Lucas blinks, shaking his head in disbelief, convinced that he can’t possibly have heard Riley right. Because there’s no way that a grown man--a teacher--Riley’s father had actually told her it was her job to make her friend’s dreams come true so she would get back onto the straight and narrow; that’s just not what people do.

Riley repeats Cory’s recommendation.

“That is...wow.” Lucas just manages to stop the first word that comes to mind, that word being insane, from coming right out of his mouth and casting too much judgement over the situation. Riley’s affect hasn’t changed much from that of a mostly neutral storyteller thus far and it’s hard to read how she feels about what her dad had advised her to do. Given that she’s choosing to trust him and open up (and hadn’t she said something about only a couple of people having heard the whole story?) the last thing he wants is to do or say anything that will make her regret or rethink the decision. “I mean, maybe my perspective is a little skewed since my dad would have given me the exact opposite advice and tell me to cut all ties if I had a friend acting like that but…”

“It’s OK if you want to say it’s crazy.” Riley says. She pushes herself off the bed and heads over to her suitcase, continuing to speak as she opens it and digs through its contents. “It is crazy. No reasonable person puts the burden of one person’s happiness and success on their sixteen-year-old’s ability to make that person’s life magically come together.”

“I mean....it’s not great.”

“Unfortunately, that’s not how I saw it back then. I just tried everything I could to keep Maya afloat and find out what she wanted so I could find a way to give it to her. I dragged Farkle and Charlie into it too.”

“It sounds like it took a while.”

Pajamas in hand, Riley crosses to the bathroom and steps inside, though she leaves the door cracked and continues talking as she changes. “Til August before junior year.” She confirms. “Our class went on this team-building hiking trip thing right before school started.”

It’s not the best start to junior year. Oh, the hiking trip at Mount Sun was supposed to be all fun and games, a nice way for the class to have one last weekend of fun before the stress of AP courses and college prep kicks in. But that’s not how it’s worked out so far.

For one thing, it’s hard to have too much fun when both of your parents are there to chaperone. Not that she doesn’t love them and love spending time with them, but the trip was supposed to be her opportunity to have a few days away from the constant prodding about how she’s doing on the Maya front (and maybe actually get to sit down with Maya, who has been dodging her for most of the summer, and have a real talk about what’s going on with her) not to mention a chance for her and Charlie to catch up after a month of Skype dates while he went out of the city to visit his dad.

Neither is very easy with her parents hovering.

And her plans only get further dashed when, while bringing her bag upstairs to her assigned room, Riley had tripped and wrenched her knee on the steps, leaving her unable to participate in all of the planned activities. Instead she’s been laid up with ice packs in the window seat of the lobby, watching her friends and classmates complete trust exercises in the front yard, chatting with lodge employees, and reading once her class had moved on to other activities.

It’s not the fun weekend she’d been looking forward to, although it improves a little when everyone returns to the lodge for dinner and even more when the chaperones make themselves scarce from the game room (and Riley’s trying very hard to pretend she did not hear her parents talking about making use of the lodge hot tub) and a fairly large game of truth or dare gets underway.

Truth or dare is by no means her favorite party game, but if it lets her actually spend some time with her friends and not sit around by her lonesome, Riley is more than willing to dive in.

“Truth.” Even if diving in means being at the mercy of Missy Bradford and her devious little smirk.

“Did you and Charlie send each other any special pictures while he was away this summer?”

Riley refuses to blush at the implication. “Charlie and I don’t need to resort to sex to feel close to each other, if that’s what you’re implying.” From next to her, Charlie rests his hand on top of hers.

“So that’s a no.”

“Not everyone has to take their clothes off to get boys interested in them.” Maya snarks and Riley feels a rush of optimism for her ability to help her friend; they may not have spent as much time together over the summer but at least she’s still jumping in to defend Riley.

Missy purses her lips. “That’s not what I’ve heard.”

Yindra and Dave jump in to get the game back on track before things can get too heated, and a few innocuous lighthearted rounds go by before Darby targets Charlie for her turn, and Charlie picks dare..

“I dare you...to kiss someone other than Riley.”

Charlie immediately draws his hand back from Riley’s.

The room titters; everyone there knows that Charlie was Riley’s first kiss--both the innocent peck of a kindergarten romance and the version that counted when they rekindled things in middle school--and since they’ve only had a few brief periods of turmoil where they weren’t actually dating, it’s generally assumed that neither of them have kissed anyone else. Even if just in the context of a game, this would be a big deal.

Riley trusts Charlie, knows their relationship is strong and comfortable and that a kiss given on a dare is not the same as a kiss you choose to give someone, so she gives him a small smile and nods her assent when he looks over at her, as though to make sure she’s OK with him fulfilling the challenge.

He nods back and returns the smile before turning back and scanning the room.

Riley only starts to feel funny about the whole endeavor when Charlie’s eyes lock with Maya’s.

Lucas can guess where this is going. After all, it’s hard to forget Auggie’s comments from the confrontation on their first night there. “Tell me he didn’t…”

“Didn’t what?” Riley asks, coming out of the bathroom in her pajamas with her dress bunched in one hand. “Shove his tongue down Maya’s throat? No, it was nothing quite that dramatic.”

Riley sees the whole scene almost as if she’s floating above herself.

Charlie inches into the middle of the circle of players on his knees and leans across to Maya. He sweeps her hair behind one ear, cupping her cheek. They draw closer together, lips parted, eyes closed. And then they kiss. Not a brief peck, but a soft, lingering moment.

Riley can see the way Maya’s shoulders tense. She starts to bring her hand up to Charlie’s chest at the same time that he starts to run his fingers through her hair, although immediately afterwards they both seem to remember where they are and who they’re with and they practically jolt apart. They stare at each other, breathing heavily as they draw their hands back.

The whole room watches, fixated.

It’s obvious, Riley notes while trying to school her emotions, that something more than a kiss for Truth or Dare just happened. There’s a sudden electricity lingering between Maya and Charlie--a connection or chemistry that goes further than the friendship and playful antagonism she’s noted between them before; because if anything they’ve always seemed like brother and sister to her, but what she just saw was definitely not something between faux-siblings.

Her mind races, trying to process, but she’s all too aware that now is not the time for her to react. Anything other than a calm acceptance will have her classmates labelling her as jealous or juvenile.; more than that, she doesn’t want to make matters with Maya worse by making her think that she’s mad at her.

So when Charlie finally returns to his spot next to her in the circle, Riley offers what she hopes is a smile of reassurance, and briefly squeezes his hand.

By the time Riley has finished this part of her story, she’s finished putting her clothes away and is glancing around the room. It takes Lucas a moment to realize that she’s trying to find something else to do while they talk; they’re at the part of the story where things are starting to go wrong and she’s maybe nervous of how he’ll react or embarrassed by it all or she just doesn’t like to talk about it but it’s all manifesting as restless energy, regardless of how drained she was earlier. Or she’s just eager to not have to look directly at him while she talks.

Either way, she’ll quickly run out of distractions in their small room, and he has a feeling if that happens, she’ll keep carrying the whole weight of her past entirely on her own.

“It’s still pretty warm out.” He comments off-handedly, glancing towards the door towards their room’s little porch overlooking the beach. “Want to walk while we talk?”

Riley nods. “Yeah. That sounds nice.”

A quick hop over their porch railing later and they’re down on the beach, walking away from the lights of the various hotels and inns at the top of the beach to the moonlit shoreline, cool sand pressing beneath their toes. Lucas decides that his best choice is to not push Riley further. He waits for her to speak and they walk several minutes in silence before she continues recounting her past.

“I sat there for a few more rounds of the game, long enough that no one would think I was leaving because of the kiss, before I left saying my knee was hurting and I wanted to go get some more ice and aspirin from my parents and go to bed. I did go up to my room, but I just wanted to think.

“And I thought myself in circles. I knew Charlie wasn’t cheating--he’d been nothing but adoring and faithful our entire relationship--but he and Maya were obviously much closer than I realized and that closeness wasn’t what I thought it was. I couldn’t figure out if they really liked each other or if it was just that physical chemistry some people have...I didn’t know how any of it really came to be or what it meant for me and Charlie. I loved him with my whole heart, but he was clearly attracted on some level to Maya… I finally decided I needed to find my mom and talk to her about it and see what she thought.”

“Topanga, I don’t know what to do.”

Riley stops in her tracks, a few steps up from the bottom of the stairs, when she hears her best friend’s voice. Before leaving her room she’d heard plenty of classmates returning to their own rooms as curfew was imposed; Maya hadn’t shown up in their shared space, but Riley assumed that was just her friend doing her rebellion thing, looking around parts of the lodge they weren’t supposed to be in, not her taking the same chance Riley wanted to capitalize on for some private advice with her mother. Topanga was the chaperone spending a little extra time downstairs to make sure no students were breaking curfew and making trouble, so it should have been the perfect opportunity.

“I’m a little lost. Start from the beginning and tell me everything and we’ll see what we can figure out.”

Eavesdropping is wrong. Riley knows that. But she’s been confused about Maya and her behavior for months now, and to throw her kiss with Charlie on top of it...she’ll take any piece of information she can get, however she can get it. She stays frozen on the stairs, out of sight of Maya and her mom.

“Well, you know how Riley and Charlie and Farkle have all been trying to fix me?”

“That’s not what they’re trying to--,”

Maya blows right through whatever assurance Topanga is trying to offer. “Because of that, Charlie and I have been talking a lot more. Texting and skyping all summer… We’ve gotten way closer. I just… he understands where I’m coming from so much better than Riley or Farkle. His parents had their divorce and things are still really messy there and...it feels like we have this connection.”

“A connection like you and Riley, or more like you and Josh?”

“Like me and Josh.” The words rush out. “I know it’s awful. He’s been Riley’s boyfriend for forever and they’re in love but there’s just something about talking to him and seeing him and being around him that’s so...good. And then tonight we kissed…”

“Oh Maya…”

“Not like that! The class was playing truth or dare, and Charlie got dared to kiss someone other than Riley, and Riley was right there and she told him it was OK so he started to look around the room and his eyes landed on mine and for a moment it felt like we were the only two people in the room. We kissed and it was like this fire ignited in my chest, it felt so good. I’ve never had a kiss feel like that. And I know he felt something too… But I just feel so awful.

“I know nobody was cheating or breaking trust or anything but I know Riley and I know she only thought it was OK for him to do the dare because she thought the kiss wouldn’t mean anything, but then it was this amazing kiss and there were sparks and my stupid crush that I already felt horrible about is now this big ball of feelings.” Maya practically spits the word though her voice is starting to become thick with tears. “And I can’t ever do anything about them, even if Charlie feels the same way, because he’s Riley’s boyfriend. If they break up it’s not like they’ve only been on a date or two. They’ve been together for years, and Riley loves him so much, so I would never be able to be with him.

“And I know I have to be OK with that because that’s life and that’s always been the way my life goes anyways so I shouldn’t be surprised, but...kissing Charlie felt right. It felt so right, and now it all hurts so bad.”

Maya starts to cry. Riley can hear her mom trying to soothe her friend, and pictures her drawing her into her arms to offer comfort. Deciding that she’s heard enough, Riley turns around to hobble up the stairs (hopefully silently), her own heart breaking as she starts to move.

Whether it’s for her friend’s heartache or some other reason, she’s not entirely sure.

“All of that came as such a shock.” Riley confides. “Maya and Charlie’s relationship had always been...contentious. When he moved back to the city and we started dating she didn’t like that she wasn’t the only person in my world anymore, and he was the sort of guy that was never mean or anything but had this way of casually flaunting things. So they would butt heads a lot, even though over time it got much more good-natured. But they never seemed like they were getting particularly close.”

“I mean, it does sound like there were at least some elements of their relationship that they were hiding from you.” Lucas points out. “If they had been talking all summer and neither of them mentioned it to you...Usually a secret like that is a sign that they know it’s more than just talking and they’re feeling guilty about it.”

Riley nods, crossing her arms over chest. “That’s where I eventually landed after a lot of thought. For whatever reason, they hadn’t wanted me to know the whole picture. And suddenly I had it anyway. But I also knew Maya was trying to hold her feelings back and be a good friend, and Charlie was never the one to initiate the breaks in our relationship, even if it was an issue with him that was causing our problems, so somehow it was up to me to decide what to do.”

There are really only a couple of options that Lucas can see. Either Riley chose to break up with Charlie, fracturing the friend group (it’s only logical that he would drift away from the group without Riley to tether him to the others) or Riley chose to stay with him but it eventually came out that she knew about Maya’s feelings for him, prompting the idea that somehow she’s selfish for putting her own feelings first. Either way, he can see how the emotional fallout from such a choice could start to build the rifts that have been festering for ten years.

“I didn’t figure out what that was until the next morning.”

Breakfast is...awkward, to say the least.

Riley, Charlie, Maya, and Farkle have grabbed food from the buffet and settled in the far corner of the dining hall, away from everyone else. No one is talking. Well… no one but Farkle is talking. Which might be a product of the fact that he appears to be the only one there who has gotten any sleep, or because he’s never been one able to stew in an uncomfortable silence.

“I wonder if they’ll cancel today’s hike or have us go anyways.” He comments, glancing towards a window where rain is pounding against the glass. “I’m not sure everyone brought rain gear. The forecast when we were packing said that today would be partly cloudy.”

Nobody answers him. He continues talking anyways.

“Of course, if we really wanted to know when it was going to rain we could get a bee colony and observe their behavior. A study in China determined that honeybees increase their activity and production the day before a rainstorm. They think that the bees are able to register changes in barometric pressure and in the….”

Riley feels slightly bad tuning out her longtime friend while she considers the conundrum sitting across her shoulders, but she reasons that finding a solution to the emotional entanglements that leaves everyone in her friend group content is more important to her than the activity patterns of bees. So she ignores Farkle’s nervous babble and attempts to subtly study her friends, hoping a solution will jump out at her.

She starts with her boyfriend.

Charlie sits across from her. He’s resting his elbows on the table as he eats. He’s pale, the way he gets when he doesn’t get enough sleep (last year when his parents were renegotiating their custody agreement he had seemed to be a permanent shade of milk), and he’s mostly just staring at his plate. When he does look up, he’s very deliberate with his gaze, Riley thinks.; his eyes go to either the window or to her. Nowhere else.

Then there’s Maya.

Her best friend looks absolutely miserable. Puffy, bloodshot eyes, hair up in a messy knot instead of one of her normal intricate styles...she’s stirring her oatmeal and letting it drip from the spoon back into the bowl rather than eating it. Riley doesn’t know what advice her mother gave Maya after she had made her escape, but she knows that Maya has been silently gluing herself to her side this morning, distancing herself from Charlie as much as possible.

The pair are very blatantly avoiding each other, but when the boys had been coming downstairs that morning Riley had seen a moment where their eyes had met. It had been less than a second before they looked away and Charlie had hurried to reach Riley and greet her with their normal kiss on the cheek, and she’s fairly certain they haven’t looked at one another since. Which tells a story in and of itself.

Riley thinks. Even though they hadn’t acted on anything outside of the game last night, it’s clear that something is happening between Maya and Charlie. She knows Maya felt whatever connection they had come to life when they kissed for the dare, and based on the way he’s acting, it’s probably reasonable to guess that the same is true for Charlie. At the same time, she knows Charlie has heard her parents’ story and spotted all the parallels it has to their relationship; he’s said more than once how great it is that they’ve found each other as early as her parents had and had their example to guide them, and if she lets him, Riley figures he’ll treat this problem as their own version of her father’s ski lodge affair--a hurdle, but something they can get past with a little angst.

Meanwhile it looks like Maya is willing to break her own heart further to let Riley and Charlie stay together. And Riley can only imagine what path that anguish will lead Maya down.

The very thought grabs at her heart. She’s supposed to be helping Maya find her hope and joy again, not making things worse. She’s supposed to be finding Maya a win.

Just like that, Riley knows what she has to do.

“The whole thing is actually really strange, because honeybees hoard resources and they wouldn’t need to--,”

“Farkle,” Riley interrupts his impromptu lecture softly. She pushes her plate away, and rests her hands, one on top of the other, on the table. “Can you give us a moment, please?”

Or, Lucas realizes, there was a third option. One where Riley ignored her own feelings in favor of following an extreme version of her dad’s ridiculous advice, and gave Maya something that she wanted. He can honestly say he’s dumbfounded. For one, because he truly can’t fathom that anyone would be quite so selfless as to do that, but for another, Riley doesn’t exactly sound sad or like she regrets doing it--she’s just...tired.

“I don’t get it.” He says without much thought. “Did you realize right then that you didn’t love him anymore? Or that Maya’s happiness was actually the secret to stopping global warming or something?”

“What?” Riley stops and looks at him, furrowing her brow.

“I’m sorry I just...I can understand breaking up with someone you still love even though you know he’d stay because you’re pretty sure he has feelings for someone else. Or maybe giving your friend permission to date someone that you don’t love anymore. But I don’t understand giving your friend and your ex of sixty seconds your blessing to explore their feelings. All because your friend hadn’t gotten anything she wanted in a long time and was acting out?”

Riley crosses her arms over her chest, her posture stiffening. Belatedly, Lucas realizes that he’s started passing and sharing judgement, despite the fact that from what he can tell, she doesn’t deserve the judgement and doesn’t need any added pressure coming from him. He opens his mouth to apologize correct himself but Riley beats him to it.

“I was stuck between two relationships.” She says. She casts her eyes down to the sand, where they stay. “Between two people I loved so much. A guy that could maybe be the person I married one day, and the girl that was my best friend. I didn’t want to lose either of them.”

“Riley…”

Riley starts walking, and Lucas hurries to keep up. “So I started doing the math. The odds of me meeting my soulmate in preschool and dating and marrying him and having kids and everything working out like my parents did...one in a million at best. That’s just not how it happens for people. But the odds of Maya and I staying best friends…? Those were a lot better. I mean, it’s still not super common but there are way more examples of childhood friends going through life together.”

“So you decided to kill two birds with one stone. Dive into what you thought was likely inevitable and break up with Charlie, and do what your dad told you was best and give Maya a reason to hope again by getting her a real chance at something she wanted.” Lucas fills in. “You didn’t want to lose them.”

She nods. “Happy people are less likely to leave. They had feelings for each other, and they weren’t going to do anything about them and eventually they weren’t going to want to deal with how ignoring them felt. Telling Charlie I didn’t love him anymore and giving them the chance to explore their feelings was the best option. And it all worked out.

“They started dating, Maya straightened herself out... Junior year started and everyone was happy.”

“Even you?” Lucas probes. Doing something that makes your best friend happy might usually make you feel good, but he has his doubts when that something means breaking up with someone you still have feelings for.

“I was happy for--,” Riley cuts herself off and shakes her head before starting over, a self-correction if Lucas has ever seen one. “I should have been.” She sighs. “I wanted to be. Everyone else was in a really good place, and I put them there which should have felt good but...even though I wanted them to be happy it wasn’t as easy as I thought it would be to watch it play out.”

“So anyway, would you be super mad at me if I skipped out on movie night tonight?”

Riley doesn’t think much of Maya’s request; her friend hadn’t really said why she needed to miss their sacred tradition of Friday night movies and a sleepover, but she’s sure that whatever the reason, it must be important. They hardly ever cancel. “Of course not. We can hang out tomorrow instead.”

“Well, actually…” Maya hems, but doesn’t get to her actual protest before Charlie bounds up and pulls her into a deep kiss.

Riley quickly turns to her locker to swap the books in her backpack for the ones she’ll need for her weekend homework. The stabbing pain in her heart isn’t anyone’s business but her own, after all. For all Maya and Charlie and everyone else know, she’s thrilled for them. But if she has the option to look away and not plaster a smile on her face while the happy couple engages in the sort of close physical relationship after dating for a week and a half that she and Charlie had never achieved in their many years together… she’s going to take it.

“Hey, beautiful.”

Riley closes her eyes at Charlie’s greeting. The nickname--and its implications--are just one more thing that he already has with Maya and never had with her. A nasty voice in the back of her head whispers that he’s always liked Maya better, because everyone always does, and that he only had ever asked her out when he moved back because it was the expected, safe option. She refuses to let the tears that prickle her eyelids at the thought move any further. She tells herself it’s not really true. It just feels like it right now because Charlie and Maya are in the honeymoon phase, and everything is more sweeping and romantic then.

“Did you ask her yet?”

“We were just in the middle of that.” Maya says.

“Ask me what?” Riley opens her eyes, finds the happiest ‘Smiley Riley’ expression she can manage and turns around again. It takes everything in her not to let it falter when she sees how they’ve landed, Charlie standing behind Maya with his arms wrapped around her shoulders while she nuzzles against his neck.

“My stepdad needs to close up his brother’s beach house in the Hamptons since he won’t be back in the States until next year.” Charlie explains. “My family’s heading down tonight to make a weekend of it, and I asked Maya if she could come too, but she said she had to check about missing your movie night before she could say yes.”

Oh.

Riley’s not sure if it’s her stomach or her heart that plummets through the floor. Maybe both. Maya wants to cancel their sleepover--the sleepover they’ve only ever cancelled three times since its inception (and two of those times were because someone was in the hospital)--to go on a weekend with Charlie. They had never cancelled anything with each other because of a boy, and here they are, changing everything once again.

She has to remind herself that this was her idea. She set this in motion and wanted this to happen; she wanted Charlie and Maya together because it meant that everything else would stay the same. And there have been some changes that she hadn’t anticipated and it’s a bit harder than she thought to watch her best friend date the boy she loves but at the heart of it it’s worth it. Because everyone is still there and friends and happy and that has to be the most important thing.

She forces her smile a little wider. “The Hamptons? Maya you definitely have to go. And bring a canvas. It’ll be beautiful there right now, I’m sure you’ll see something worth painting.”

“OK. So you were doing everything you could to let them be happy, and somehow that makes you selfish?”

“That part doesn’t come until later.”

“What comes next then?”

“What else? Public humiliation.”

“Riley, let’s just go. There’s no point in you making yourself miserable watching them. We can go back to my place and watch Pixar movies and drink milkshakes.”

Riley presses her lips together at Farkle’s offer. They’re closer than they’ve ever been (between throwing herself deeper into her school work and clubs to limit her time around the happy couple, and them sneaking off during the day and going on date after date, she and Farkle have been spending a big chunk of their time together) and he’s like another brother to her but their newly deepened relationship isn’t without its friction. As observant as he is, it hadn’t taken him long to figure out that she hadn’t been totally honest with Charlie and Maya about her feelings, and after he heard her out to get her reasoning and realized he wasn’t going to convince her to tell everyone the truth, he’s spent the last month and a half doing everything he can to distract her and make things a little bit easier. She loves him for it, but sometimes it’s clear by his suggestions that he doesn’t approve or understand.

“I can’t just leave.” She protests softly, tearing her eyes away from where Maya and Charlie are dancing. “It’s homecoming. I’m on the committee that put the dance together. I have to be here.”

Farkle raises an eyebrow, glancing around the decorated gymnasium; the dance is in full swing and everyone looks quite entertained and happy. “It doesn’t look like there’s going to be a streamer crisis anytime soon. And if there is I’m pretty sure the rest of the committee can handle it.”

“Farkle, leaving early looks weird. People will have questions...it’ll be better if I just tough it out and stay.” She squirms a little under his discerning gaze, but relaxes a little when he reaches over and grabs her hand.

“At least come dance with me instead of standing here and torturing yourself.”

Riley nods, and he pulls her off to a far corner of the dance floor.

Some time later, Riley is chatting with Maya near the punchbowl, as Farkle and Charlie have gone to the small backstage area to get the sound system ready for the homecoming court announcements, and she almost feels relaxed; it’s easier when it’s just the two of them.

“My mom’s been on my back all week about going to get a new coat before the weather changes,” Maya says, sipping from her punch. “So I was thinking we should totally have a girls day. It feels like it’s been forever since we’ve gone all out.”

Riley swallows back her instinctive response--that they haven’t gone out because Maya has been cancelling to spend time with Charlie--with a smile. “I love it! Where do you want to go?”

“I was thinking we go for the full makeover. Hair, clothes, the works.”

“Sounds great. New week, new us.”

“I’m just saying,” a voice filters out of the speakers on top of the music, “That you and Maya should tone down the PDA a little.”

Riley swallows around a suddenly dry mouth. It doesn’t even take her two words to recognize Farkle’s voice even with the music still blasting, and she quickly spots a handful of her classmates stop dancing and look around in confusion.

“Why? We’re just happy together.” Charlie’s voice chimes in, and if Riley weren’t so paralyzed with fear and disbelief she’d notice the familiar stab of pain at the reminder of the differences between her relationship with Charlie and Maya’s.

She can’t believe that Farkle is taking it upon himself to try and talk to Charlie about this. She can’t believe he’s doing it in public. She can’t believe that he’s apparently forgotten what happens when you turn a microphone on.

“Because…” Farkle draws out. “Not everyone is comfortable with it.”

“You’ve never seemed uncomfortable before, man.”

“Not me. Riley.”

The longer the conversation goes on, the more students stop their dancing. Maya crinkles her brow and stares at Riley.

“Why would Riley have a problem with me and Maya?” Charlie asks.

And naturally, the DJ seems to catch on that something is happening and turns off the music the same moment that Farkle gives his answer. “Because she’s still in love with you.”

Lucas thinks back to his high school years. He thinks about his fellow classmates and his friends and his secrets, and although nothing that he kept to himself was quite so personally devastating as a secret love for someone close to him, and he wasn’t as close to anyone as Riley appears to have been with her friends, he’s not sure that he would have coped with any of his secrets being revealed to the entire school. Especially by someone that he trusted.

Part of him growing up and letting go of his anger towards his family and becoming the sort of person that he could be proud of had been learning to be more open. Not to forget his past experiences but to let the past be the past, and look at everything else through a new lens. To look for the best in people. And he’d like to think that he’s come a long way with that but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t know the reality of things.

People can be cruel. Teenagers especially so. And to be forced into such a vulnerable and open position without warning, around people that probably wouldn’t know better than to find the spectacle entertaining...he can’t imagine how much that would throw a person.

Especially someone who’s been working so hard to make sure no one knew the truth.

“Riley, I--...” He means to offer comfort, but cuts himself off almost before he starts; what is there to say exactly? It’s not like there’s any set of words that can undo the past or take away the hurt she felt in that moment.

If Riley hears his aborted comment, she doesn’t say anything. “So I’m standing there, stunned. Just completely in shock. Not only because my feelings had just been broadcast to the entire school, but I couldn’t believe that Farkle would even share them with Charlie in the first place. I know everyone is staring, but I’m so floored that I can’t even think about what to do. And all of that would have been bad enough, but the night wasn’t over yet.”

“There’s more?” Now Lucas knows he wouldn’t have coped.

“Riley, what’s Farkle talking about?”

Riley blinks in the face of Maya’s question. She can tell the eyes of her classmates are all locked on her and it’s so silent that it feels like the air is being sucked out of the room, but there’s only one thought running through her mind. ‘They know.’ It loops, over and over, getting tossed around as everything seems to tunnel out around her.

“Riley!” Maya shoves at her shoulder and the world snaps back into focus. “What’s Farkle talking about? What does he mean, you’re still in love with Charlie?”

There’s no getting out of it really. Oh, she could try to lie, to tell everyone that Farkle had misconstrued what she had said and this is all one big misunderstanding, but it’s not like anyone would actually believe her at this point. No one’s going to believe that the resident genius didn’t comprehend what someone was trying to tell him to the point that he spread completely false information. And really, the only reason she had gotten away with lying about her feelings in the first place is because she had gotten to plan what she wanted to say and how she wanted to say it; she’s an actress when she can prepare and anticipate but spontaneity is not her friend.

Riley takes a deep breath, steeling herself, before facing Maya and giving her answer. “Exactly what it sounds like. I’ve been keeping it to myself because it’s not anyone else’s business or problem but...I still love Charlie.”

“That’s not what you said when you broke up with him at the lodge.” Maya protests, her brow furrowing deeper.

“I know it’s not exactly…” Riley drops off as Charlie comes to a stop in front of them breathing heavily, having rushed from behind the staging area. Farkle, not known for his athletic prowess, is several feet behind.

He says her name, but nothing else. For a moment they’re just staring at one another, and it’s almost the same as the quiet moments of comfortable tension in their relationship where everything just felt closer. More connected and intense. There’s a split second where Riley thinks that maybe there is still something there between them, in spite of the last couple of months. But the spell breaks just as quickly when Maya speaks again.

“I don’t understand. At the lodge you said your relationship had run its course. You said he and I should explore our feelings.”

“Maybe we should take this some place a little more private.” Farkle urges shortly after his arrival, glancing amongst the trio and then crowd, rapt with attention.

Maya ignores him. “Why would you say all that if it wasn’t true?”

“Because…”Riley hedges for a moment, trying to decide how honest she should be...how much detail she should share. But she quickly realizes that there’s not much use in hiding anything. Maybe things will be less awkward and horrible if they knew she had done this to make them happy. “I thought things would be better for everyone if I stepped back. The two of you had some kind of connection, whether you wanted to admit to it or not, and I didn’t want that to come between us. I’d much rather have you guys as my friends than to lose one of you--or both of you--because I was keeping you from something you wanted. I thought that my feelings would fade, and as long as you two were happy, whatever I went through would be worth it.”

“Then why have Farkle come talk to me?” Charlie asks, finally finding his voice again. With more words spoken, Riley can hear the taut edge in his tone--the confusion, but also the anger.

She takes a step back. “I didn’t want Farkle to tell you anything.”

“But he did.”

“Guys,” Farkle steps closer to the group, gesturing between them, “don’t you think we should at least go out to the hall?”

They ignore the suggestion, staring at each other for a moment longer, uncertainty painted across their faces. Riley wouldn’t be sure that any of them were even breathing except she can feel the familiar tightness of inhaling through anxiety in her chest. She’s not sure what she expects to happen, or even what she wants to happen at this point; she can’t even begin to figure out what her next step would be to fix the mess that’s been created in the last few minutes, and although her mind is racing, all she can do is stand there and wait for someone else to step up.

“Riley, you’re so special, and we were always good together. You’ll always be important to me.” Charlie says after a deep breath. Next to him, Maya tenses and Riley finds it even harder to take a breath. It’s entirely possible that Charlie’s next words are going to change everything between the group; it’s exactly what she’d wanted to avoid.“But when you broke up with me and told me to move on...that’s what I did. Dating Maya has been amazing.” He reaches over, weaving his fingers through Maya’s. “We’re really happy together, going in a great direction...I don’t want to move backwards.”

“Riles, you know how much I love you, and I hate seeing you hurt,” Maya adds on, “but we didn’t ask you to step back for us.. And now that you have and we’ve been together for a few months…”

Riley knows what happens next sets the tone for their friendship. She can give into every ounce of the heartache that is the guy she loves saying in front of everyone that getting together again with her would be moving backwards--all but confirming that he thinks things with Maya are better than they ever were with her--and cry and make a scene and make it all but inevitable that things will change beyond recognition or repair. Or, she can go with the numb shock of it all. Stay calm. And maybe it’ll be clear that she’s upset right now, but at least it will leave the door open for things to stay mostly the same.

“I would never ask you to give up the relationship you’ve found.” Riley jumps in as Maya trails off; her words fall flat, and even when she makes herself smile she know it sounds forced and strained. She presses on anyways. “That’s why I didn’t want anyone to know. It’s my thing, not anyone else’s. You guys are happy, and that’s what’s most important.”

“After that...Farkle and I weren’t talking. I was upset he had violated my trust and he...was not used to getting things wrong or messing up in such a big way so I’m pretty sure he didn’t know how to apologize. So things were bad in that direction and probably even more awkward with Maya and Charlie…”

“The happy couple didn’t handle things very well?” Lucas has to think that a trio of well-adjusted adults would have trouble maintaining their relationships in a similar love triangle situation, so for a group of hormonal teenagers it would have to be next to impossible.

“They weren’t sure if they needed to change how they acted around me, so they tried but that was changing a big part of their relationship which made things weird between them. Plus, I think all three of us were worried that the wrong comment or nudge or whatever would give someone the wrong idea or hurt someone so we were all tip-toeing around each other, and I don’t know if you’ve noticed or not but Maya doesn’t do all that great with awkward.”

Lucas thinks back to the various derisive and sarcastic comments he’s heard the blonde make in response to an uncomfortable situation. “She doesn’t seem to.”

“It didn’t take much more than a week for her to hit her limit and take matters into her own hands.”

“Riles, can we talk about the Charlie thing?”

Riley is so taken aback by Maya’s question, coming in the middle of their art class that she drops her paintbrush. It’s the first time since homecoming that anyone has addressed what had happened directly and she’d been mildly hopeful that the radio silence would continue until a long time had passed; maybe several years down the line they’d be able to have an open discussion about the whole thing but she knows how precarious things are between them right now and even one comment could damage things further. Thankfully, Maya continues talking without waiting for a response, and she gets to find out more before she commits to anything one way or the other.

“It’s just that...this is weird for all of us, ya know? You’re like my sister and I know you said that you’re OK with Charlie and me being together because you’re like, the greatest friend a girl could ask for, and the last thing me or Charlie want to do is do anything that hurts you, but we’re just...not really sure where the line is right now? Like I said, we don’t want you to be uncomfortable but as a couple we’ve always been more…” Maya shifts in her seat, tilting her head back and forth as she hems over her answer.

When two seconds go by and Maya still hasn’t finished her sentence, Riley takes the hint. “Physical?”

Maya snaps her fingers and points. “Exactly! It’s not like that’s the only aspect to our relationship but it is a big one, and I know you want us to be happy, but at the same time, it’s like I said, we don’t want to hurt you. So I guess what I’m asking is…”

“Maya, you and Charlie should have exactly the relationship you want.” Riley presses her lips together, then reaches over and rests a hand on top of her friend’s. “Don’t worry about me.” After all, she thinks as Maya grins and thanks her for being so understanding, and she bends down to retrieve her paintbrush, what’s one more sacrifice to keep your friends?

“She actually went to you, barely a week after she found out that you still loved Charlie, and asked if you were OK with them making out in front of you?” Lucas can hardly believe what he’s hearing. “And she was your best friend? How were you OK with that?”

“At the time I thought I had to be.” Riley answers. As she walks she reaches up and takes down her ponytail, starting to braid her hair instead. “Remember? According to everyone my job as her friend was to give and do everything I could to make her happy and help her grow. How I felt was never a part of the equation.”

Right. Lucas had almost forgotten that particular mountain of bad advice. How parents could advise that level of self-sacrifice to their child...even if Riley had been misinterpreting what they had been saying, shouldn’t they have stepped in and clarified at some point? Or maybe comforted her and given some advice? Like when they saw her making herself completely miserable? His esteem for the elder Matthews, not particularly high to begin with, drops down a little further.

“That said, it didn’t take me very long to realize that as much as I wanted to take all of my feelings about the situation and shove them into a box at the back of my closet where I would never have to deal with them, that’s not really something a person can do. Or at least that I can do.

“I wanted to be OK with Maya and Charlie being together, but even in spite of him saying flat out that his feelings for me had changed and putting that closure between us, I still felt something for him. It hurt to see them together and how different he was with Maya. I tried my best to swallow it down and hide it but I wasn’t very good at it and between that and the ongoing mess with Farkle… There was so much tension that it was easier for everyone if I limited my time with them.” Riley ties off her braid, letting it rest on her shoulder.

“Wait, really?”

“Alanis Morissette eat your heart out, right?” Riley huffs. “All I wanted to do was make sure my friends were happy enough to stick around and all I did was make it too painful for me to stay.”

Lucas frowns. Sure, the choice that she made to break up with Charlie in the first place had been a mistake but it wasn’t the only factor that made things hard. From the way she tells the story, the others hardly sound blameless, not from his perspective. “And none of them saw a problem with how they were acting or tried to fix it?”

“They were getting along fine without me. I mean, every once in a while Maya and I would try and hang out on our own but things were still awkward. The more we were apart, the clearer it was that we didn’t have as much in common as we used to and we both felt like we had to be careful with what we said… so that didn’t last very long. By Thanksgiving or so I was pretty much entirely on my own.”

“What do you mean on your own?”

“I was a goofily optimistic, klutzy kid. Whose dad taught at her school. There weren’t a ton of kids lining up around the block to be friends with me. The ones who didn’t ignore me were happy I had lost the protection of Maya and Charlie.”

Lucas doesn’t like the sound of that at all. “Protection?”

“Farkle and I were easy targets for bullies and mean girls. But being friends with Maya and Charlie gave us a layer of protection, because Maya was tough enough to scare most everyone and Charlie was one of those guys that the whole school liked so nobody really wanted to upset him.”

“So what? You drifted apart and it was open season on Riley?”

“For a few kids, yeah.” It sounds so matter-of-fact and nonchalant coming out of Riley’s mouth that Lucas can’t tell if the anger simmering in his chest is an overreaction.

“And nobody did anything?”

“Most people didn’t know. It was mostly texts and emails. Catty comments in the girls’ bathroom. Nothing super noticeable. It would have been completely manageable if I’d been in a better place. Anyways, we’re getting off track. That stuff was a factor, not a major point in the story.”

The hasty dismissal tells Lucas that his anger is not misplaced, and it likely wouldn’t have been manageable, whether or not she’d had the support of friends, but he knows better than to press the issue further. “OK. So it’s Thanksgiving, and your friend group is pretty non-existent.”He recaps. “Where were your parents during all of that? I would have thought they’d offer all the advice they could to try and help you keep everyone together.”

“Talking to them never really worked. My mom was super busy between work and Auggie and being Maya’s go to adult for advice, so every time I managed to get her alone for five minutes, something more important came up and she dashed off with a promise to make it up to me later.

“And my dad...he was so reluctant to discuss anything about boys and my dating of them that we only had one real conversation about it and even that was less than helpful.”

“Riley, a moment please?”

Riley stops packing up her books the moment her dad makes the request, while everyone else filters out of the classroom. He hasn’t kept her behind after class since middle school unless she’s left her lunch money at home and they’ve already had lunch today, so she’s not sure what he could possibly want. They haven’t had any papers or tests lately that she might have done poorly on.

When the room is empty, her dad sits on the edge of his desk, directly in front of her usual seat. “You know, as a teacher I hear pretty much all the gossip that circulates around this school. Not to mention I have students that come to me for advice when they aren’t sure what to do with the problems they’re dealing with.”

“I know.” Riley laughs nervously. Between her mom and Maya and the school’s gossip network he’d probably heard every last detail about her breakup with Charlie and the subsequent homecoming fiasco a few weeks ago. Does he want her to talk about that with him? Not that she’s completely opposed to getting some parental advice on the matter--she’s felt completely lost for a while now and could really use a little guidance--but her dad never wants to talk about this sort of problem with her.

“And I can’t help but notice there’s been a massive change with you recently.” He continues, and Riley feels a bit better about her chances; sure they don’t normally talk about boys and those sorts of feelings, but if he took notice of her struggles, maybe he was swallowing back his reservations to try and be there for her. Isn’t that what fathers do?

“Well, things have been--,”

“So what’s going on? Why aren’t you spending time with Maya anymore?”

Just as quickly the hope stoking in her heart plummets down to her feet. She’s so stunned that that’s her dad’s question she can’t even think of an answer.

He only lets them sit in silence for a few moments. “Look Riley, I can’t pretend I understand what made you decide that breaking up with Charlie and telling him to explore his feelings for Maya was the right thing to do; that wasn’t really what I meant when I said you needed to find a way to help her be happy again. That said, what’s done is done. Part of growing up is learning to live with the decisions we make. You can’t turn back the clock just because something is harder than you thought it would be.”

Riley knows that. She doesn’t want to turn the clock back. She just wants to know how to get past it all and stop hurting, but she can’t figure out how to explain that to her dad.

“The good news is Maya’s attitude has really turned around.” Her dad continues. “She’s doing good in school again, talking about what colleges she might apply to. However misguided it was, it looks like this was the win she needed. But she’s still hurting. None of it feels any good to her without her best friend by her side.”

“So, let me make sure I’m understanding this.” Lucas shakes his head as if to clear it; it’s not that he can’t believe that Riley’s dad would ignore her feelings in such a blatant way--almost every interaction this trip has been a demonstration of his skill in that area--but it just feels jarring to have it laid out that he’s been doing it since she was so much younger, and to hear how it chipped away at Riley’s picture of him. “Your dad hears the whole story, sees that you’re having a hard time, and sits you down to tell you to suck it up and go back to Maya?”

Riley nods. “That’s the way things were. If we fought, I apologized. If she got into trouble, I got her out of it. If she liked something I had, I shared it with her. So if she wanted her best friend around, I was supposed to find a way to make it work.

“I could tell my dad was let down that he was even having to talk to me about it, which was the last thing I wanted. Plus I was so lonely and tired, I thought that going back to my friends and dealing with a little heartache would be better than having no friends and disappointing my parents. I was the good kid. I’d never gone against what they wanted before and it didn’t seem like the time to start. So I told him I’d be better, screwed on my smile and put everything I had into being the only Riley anyone seemed to care about--the happy, helpful doormat. I told Farkle all was forgiven, told Charlie the time apart had done wonders and I was over him, apologized to Maya for abandoning her and went back to the old routine of jumping for her before she could even think to ask me to. As far as everyone else was concerned, the drama was over. All was well.”

Lucas can practically hear the narration continue in his head. But all was not well. Nothing Riley has just described to him was remotely healthy. He knows because he’s done it. He knows how ignoring everything he was feeling and pretending to be a person he wasn’t had chipped away at him and left him a mess that he’d barely been able to hold together long enough to make it to college and get away.

And Riley is such a people pleaser she had probably thrown herself into the effort with 310%, no matter how hard it was to do so.

“How long did that go on for?”

“A few months. I slowly realized that I was the only one really trying--no one noticed that I was faking everything, or how much I was constantly giving up or setting aside to make sure everyone else got what they wanted, and never getting anything more than a smile and a pat on the shoulder in return. Even the bullies realized no one was going to notice or care, so they kept at it. Still, I ran myself into the ground, trying to convince myself that I just wasn’t meeting everyone’s standards, and if I just pushed myself a little harder and gave just a little bit more, I would and things would get better. The only time I ever got to let it all go and breathe was if I was alone, and every time I did, it was harder to put the act back on.”

“Did you ever think about not putting it back on?”

“Not until April.”

“What happened then?”

Don’t you think it’s a bit pathetic to still be clinging to Maya and Charlie? It’s not like they actually want you around.

No one wants you around.

Not even daddy talks to you anymore.

Who can blame him with how obnoxious you are? I’m sure your parents only let you stay with them because they can’t kick you out until you’re 18.

Riley clamps her teeth onto her inner lip as she scrolls through the latest additions to the group text she can’t seem to escape no matter how many numbers she blocks on her phone. They’re hardly the nastiest she’s ever been sent, but the harshness hardly seems to matter anymore; these days every comment seems to chip past her defenses easier than the last. Reading each word hurts, and even after she closes the messages and puts her phone down they keep running through her head.

She never gets a break anymore.

If she’s not dealing with the texts and the notes shoved in her locker and the not-so-accidental shoves, elbows, and trips in a crowded hallway, she’s dealing with the drama of Maya and Charlie. They have officially exited the honeymoon phase of their relationship and are starting to face some challenges. And Riley gets put in the middle of every spat.

Charlie needs insights into Maya’s personality. Maya needs someone to vent at. They both need help arranging grand gestures of apology. Riley provides it all with every ounce of sympathy she can drudge up, no matter how difficult. And boy is it difficult.

She’d never realized how needy her friends were until she was in the position of needing some support of her own. Now it’s hard not to notice how little they seem to care about how she’s doing.

After that, every interaction is harder and seems to drain her more, to the point where she’s taken to sneaking off in the afternoons and studying at a coffee shop near Bryant Park, a journey no one else is likely to make, just to get a couple hours away from it all every day. She does her homework in peace, away from self-centered friends and nasty classmates (at least, if she turns her phone off) and it gives her just enough relief to be able to go back to her home and keep up the act that she’s just as happy, just as helpful, just as unaware of the imbalance in all her relationships (with both friends and family) as always.

Riley’s settled in at her favorite table for one such afternoon, having been working for a good hour already, when the bell above the door tinkles. She doesn’t pay much attention to the customers that enter; the cafe is packed to the brim with students either avoiding their work or getting a caffeine fix prior to a late class as it is almost every day and she’s gotten quite adept at ignoring the chaos until it interferes with her work.

Only…

“You think you’re so cute, don’t you?”

The laugh of blonde walking past her table to join the line of patrons sounds incredibly familiar.

“That’s what you said last night.”

And so does the boy who has an arm slung over her shoulder.

“That was about your butt, not your face.”

Reaching behind himself, he catches her hand just before it can land a playful slap on the aforementioned butt. “So you only want me for my body, is that it?”

“That and what you can do with it.”

The blonde stretches up on her tiptoes, pulling him into a searing kiss, just as reality gives way to Riley’s shock.

The girl is Maya. But the boy is not Charlie.

Lucas is almost positive that he hasn’t missed the bit of the story where Maya and Charlie decided they weren’t meant to be together. And he’s certain that if their relationship was less serious and the type where they were open and free to see other people that Riley would have mentioned it before now. Which means that whatever was happening in the coffee shop, it was behind Charlie’s back, in spite of all the feelings professed and happiness claimed. “Do I even want to know who she was with?”

“Probably not but it’s part of the story so…”

Riley rushes to close her textbook and gather her things to make a hasty exit. She does not want to see anymore or even worse, have them see her; if they realize they’ve been caught, there will surely be a scramble to make her understand the situation and to convince her to keep the secret and she’s not ready to deal with that. She’s not sure she’ll ever be ready to deal with that.

Unfortunately, the universe does not agree with her plan.

In her hurry to get her belongings together, her elbow collides with her tea, sending the cup to the floor (with what feels like a surprisingly loud crash for a paper travel mug). Several patrons turn to the source of the noise, including Maya who immediately starts to fluster.

“Riley!” Her eyes widen and she jumps away from her companion. They both rush to speak at the same time. “This isn’t what it looks like!”

“What are you doing here?”

Riley is fairly certain that there’s no alternative explanation for what she’s seen that would excuse Maya and her Uncle Josh making out in a coffee shop when earlier in the day she and Charlie were making moon eyes in the cafeteria and feeding each other bites of slightly stale cafeteria cake. She’s never been one for confrontation with her friends or family, but the heat of frustration and upset rises before she can even think to swallow it. “I study here where I can get some peace and quiet. I’d ask why you come here but I make it a point not to waste people’s time by asking questions I already know the answers to.” She turns back to the table pulling several napkins from the dispenser to try and deal with the mess. The sooner she cleans up the spill, the sooner she can leave and not have some sort of embarrassing emotional reaction.

“Riles, this isn’t what it looks like.” Maya repeats her initial insistence.

“Are you still dating Charlie?”

“Wh--I--that’s--,”

“It’s a simple question Maya.” Riley cuts off her sputtering, turning back around. She can practically feel her frustration and anger sparking in her eyes, something she normally does everything she can to tamp down. She finds she doesn't care.“Are you still dating Charlie?”

“Well, yeah but--,”

“Then it’s exactly what it looks like.”

“That was the last straw for me.” Riley informs. “I was done. I had given up the boy I loved for Maya, and even though they were supposedly both happy with each other, she turned right around and cheated on him. And because it was with Josh, she didn’t even see it as all that wrong.”

Lucas is beginning to wonder if they’ll run out of beach before the story is over. Every piece of Riley’s tale seems to bring up more questions to unpack than it answers, and he has a feeling they haven’t even reached the climax yet. “Why would it matter that it was Josh instead of someone else?”

Another heavy sigh escapes Riley’s lips. “Ever since they first met, Maya had the biggest crush on Josh. And even though she could be pretty bold and obnoxious about it, Josh never really shut her down other to bring up their age difference. But as time went on even that got to be less and less firm.”

“Three years is a big gap when you’re still a kid but it just keeps shrinking the older you get.” Lucas nods, familiar with the argument.

She nods. “The attraction was definitely reciprocal. And they had an unspoken agreement that neither of them were supposed to just wait around and not have a love life, but if, when the age gap wasn’t so...problematic, they were both available, they were probably going to give things a shot.”

Which still doesn’t explain how the fact that it was with Josh made Maya think she had some sort of pass on the cheating thing. The key word Lucas could pick out of Riley’s explanation of the agreement was ‘available’, which Maya clearly wasn’t. “How does that make it OK for her to date two people without both of them knowing and agreeing?”

“Come on, Riles. You could at least talk to me. Let me explain.”

Riley spins on her heel, whirling to face Maya; she and Josh have been chasing after her since Riley had stormed out of the cafe, some five blocks thus far, trying to get her to stop and listen to whatever it is they have to say. Riley can’t say that she’s particularly interested in the explanation right now, but she also knows that Maya isn’t going to give up her pursuit any time soon, and she had been so flustered upon her exit that she hadn’t thought to do the sensible thing and get on the subway or hail a cab where they wouldn’t be able to immediately follow. “Fine.” She bites out, crossing her arms over her chest. “Explain.”

“Josh and I...it’s totally unexpected. We only got together last week.”

Riley blinks, uncertain as to what in those two sentences was supposed to make her understand the situation. Maya hesitates but keeps talking.

“There just hasn’t been a good chance for me to talk to Charlie yet.”

“That’s funny, I seem to remember you being with him before classes, study hall, lunch, PE...I wonder if any of those times would have given you the opportunity to bring something like this up? Or, and I’m just throwing things out here, what about right now? I mean, surely if you stopped shoving your tongue down my Uncle’s throat you could find the time to sit down with your boyfriend and tell him that your feelings have changed.”

“Riley, that’s not fair.” Josh jumps in.

Maya nods, continuing after him quickly. “It’s not that easy. Charlie and I have been together a long time, I can’t just break up with him out of the blue. He deserves better than that.”

Riley doesn’t even know where to begin with that. The belief that the few months Maya and Charlie have been dating could be considered a long time...the idea that carrying on a secret relationship with someone else is somehow kinder than breaking up with a person...the light insinuations about Riley’s own break up with Charlie...it all flabbergasts her to the point of stunned silence, which Maya seems to take as the dawning of Riley’s understanding, and she’s more than happy to keep talking.

“So it’s not that we’re trying to have this secret affair or anything. I just need a little time to figure out how to tell him in a way that won’t hurt him. It’s not like I don’t care about him. I’ve been really happy with him while we’ve been together--he’s a great guy and he was exactly what I needed to get me through until--,”

Maya cuts herself off, but all it takes is a glance down to her hand, still interwoven with Josh’s, for Riley to fill in the blanks. He was exactly what I needed to get me through until Josh and I could be together. Whatever Maya’s feelings for Charlie are, they don’t compare to her long-harbored feelings for Josh. When the time came and opportunity rose up Charlie was ultimately nothing more than a placeholder for her.

Riley can barely swallow around the rock that forms in her throat. “I have to go.”

“Wait! But Riley--,”

Riley ignores their duet of protests. “Good luck with your new relationship.” The words don’t come out happy, enthusiastic, or anything remotely resembling an actual congratulatory message, but Riley’s not sure if she means them at all or is just habitually wishing them well so she doesn’t correct herself or add anything else, instead turning and stepping off the curb to hail a --thankfully empty--approaching taxi. She gets in quickly, shutting the door in Maya’s face and rattling off her address to the driver. It’s nearing dinner time so even if her study time hadn’t been interrupted and her sanctuary invaded, she’d need to be thinking about heading home anyways; she can only hope that Maya will take her fast exit as a sign to stay away, and that her parents will, for once, be understanding.

“I’m guessing they weren’t.”

“It went better than I thought it would.” Riley shrugs. The answer doesn’t give Lucas much hope that things are about to take a turn for the better. “I had a few days of quiet. My parents didn’t sit down and talk to me about what was going on or anything, but they also didn’t make me see Maya or Josh either. It’s stupid looking back on it but even that little bit of inaction on their part was enough to give me hope that they were at least somewhat on my side; they knew what was going on so it seemed like maybe they were accepting my feelings about everything, even if they weren’t actually trying to help me through it.”

If nothing else, the fact that Riley had ever seen this bare minimum of effort--that doesn’t even really seem like much of an effort at all--as them being accepting spoke volumes about their relationship and how they had been treating her. Only there’s no good way for Lucas to say that without coming off at least somewhat judgemental of Riley that he can find, so he once again stays quiet.

“It was a different story once Maya came clean and broke up with Charlie.”

“How so?”

“Nobody liked that she had cheated on him. And you’ve seen how the Matthews’ act with people they disagree with.”

Lucas nods.

“Ending the situation with Charlie and getting his forgiveness got rid of that issue and repositioned her halo. She had done what she needed to do to be happy and made things right so to speak. Me being upset about it regardless of that was the only thing keeping things from going back to 100% normal.”

“That doesn’t even remotely begin to--,”

“‘Riley, we let you have your tantrum but you’re dragging it out a bit long, don’t you think?’ ‘Maya’s your best friend. Can’t you see it’s hurting her that you’re not happy for her?’ ‘It’s time to stop acting like a child and be reasonable.’” Riley cuts him off, parroting the words with such precision and bitterness that it’s clear these are very specific, very real examples of things people--not just people but her family--had said to her. “Maya was the priority. She was the mature one who had earned her feelings and I was the kid, who didn’t understand the depth of what they were talking about and acting out because I wasn’t getting my way.

“The longer I stood my ground and didn’t crawl back, begging for her to forgive and accept me, the harder it was to deal with anyone. My parents especially. They made their disappointment in me very clear, and didn’t bother to even try and hear where I was coming from. All that mattered was that I had stopped prioritizing my friendship with Maya over everything else and Maya was unhappy, so I was in the wrong.”

Lucas doesn’t even realize his indignation has made him stop walking until Riley turns around to face him, brow furrowed. “But you were unhappy too.” He protests. “And you were their daughter. Not Maya. What made them prioritize her feelings over yours?” He doesn’t expect Riley to have an answer for him, not really, but it’s such a foreign concept to him; as hard as his parents were to deal with and as much as they didn’t really consider his feelings on anything, they also never would have put anyone ahead of him except for themselves.

“They saw her as another daughter. And to them this was my big rebellion. They raised me to be the best parts of them put together. Smart, strong, loyal, hopeful, giving… Cutting ties with Maya went against everything they had told me to be. And if they were upset with me before, it only got worse when I turned down Charlie’s promposal.”

“Charlie’s prompos-- you mean he had the nerve to ask you out again?”

“Our school always had a Spirit Week in the spring that ended with a lip-sync competition. Charlie took the lead for the junior class performance and put together a One Direction number that ended with him asking me to prom and me saying no which nobody, including him, understood.”

“Riley, can we talk?”

Riley stops gathering her books, briefly closing her eyes to steel herself for the pending conversation; she knows exactly what Charlie wants--the same thing he’s wanted for the past two days--and unfortunately her habit of lingering in the safety of a teacher-supervised classroom rather than rushing out to the madness of the hallways with the rest of her fellow students has given him an easy opening that she can’t evade. “There’s nothing to talk about Charlie.” She says, reopening her eyes. She does her best to keep her voice firm, and returns to collecting her things. Maybe if she stays firm and keeps moving it will all be over quickly. “You asked me out. I said no. That’s the end of the discussion.”

“It can’t be.” Charlie protests, He takes a step forward, laying his hand on top of hers to still it. “I know you still have feelings for me.”

It would be easy to melt into his touch. It’s gentle and familiar and everything Riley has been craving for months. She could give in and the entire mess would be done with. It just...wouldn’t be real.

Her hesitation comes to a grinding halt and she jerks her hand back. “I don’t want to be with anyone who thinks being with me is a step backwards for them.”

“Who said that?”

“You did.” Riley sweeps her things into her arms and stands, unable to believe that the conversation that had caused her so much heartache was so inconsequential to Charlie that he had forgotten it.

“If I said that it was only because I was confused.” He sidesteps in front of her, blocking her path. “Riley, I know the past few months have been a lot but I still care about you. We can make this work. I mean….look at what happened with your parents.” He gestures towards the front of the classroom, where her dad is trying and failing to look like he’s simply writing out his next lesson plan on the board and not hanging on every word of the conversation. “They broke up and saw other people in high school and look at them now! Married for seventeen years! That could be us one day.”

Riley looks to her dad, eyes wide pleading for his assistance; surely he must understand how crazy Charlie’s premise sounds. The odds of her parents’ relationship working in spite of all of their hurdles and separations was one in a trillion. And really, the circumstances of their breakup and what happened in the aftermath were so different than this.

But her dad just nods. “He’s right Riley. Your story isn’t over yet.”

“If it’s my story that means I get to say when it’s over.” Riley argues, though she feels a stabbing in her chest and her resolve starts to weaken at the disappointed frown that deepens across her father’s face. She tears her gaze away, glancing at Charlie one last time. “I don’t know if you’ve genuinely realized that you still care about me or if you just don’t want to be alone, but I’m sorry. Either way, my answer is no. And it’s not going to change.” She ducks around her ex and hurries out of the room before either he or her dad can say anything else. But she still hears their chorused objections, and can’t stop her tears from falling as she rushes down the hall.

Riley wraps her arms around herself as she finishes this portion of the story, squeezing tightly. Lucas can’t tell if she’s getting cold in the night air or just trying to comfort herself. “From that point on I was on my own. If I caught my parents’ attention all I ever got was a lecture; my so-called friends spent most of their time explaining all the ways that I was being a selfish bitch--that’s if they could even be bothered to talk to me or spend time with me at all. Classmates harassed me, teachers just wanted to talk about my falling grades...It felt like the only person who still liked me for me was Auggie, and that was only because he was too young to understand why everyone else was mad at me. I couldn’t exactly confide in him.”

Riley stops walking. She turns to the ocean for a moment, chewing on her lip with eyes cast downward. It’s obvious that she has more to say but needs a moment, whether to simply gather herself or find her words or something else entirely.

It’s all Lucas can do to not reach over and offer her comfort. He’s hardly a stranger to consoling his clients; in this line of work he’s often called on by people with baggage and he considers it a part of his job to help how he can--how he would want to be treated if he were opening up to someone--yet with Riley he finds himself hesitant. She’s been warming up to him and getting much more comfortable with physical contact, both within the context of their feigned relationship and outside of it, but he can’t help but worry that the emotional place the story is putting her in will render that ease and the effects moot. Riley is clearly vulnerable at the moment, and the last thing he wants to do is anything that will make the situation harder for her.

(There’s also the added complication of their earlier kiss and how every touch between them seems to carry such a weighted spark, but thinking about that is going down a road that Lucas knows will lead to trouble so really, his reluctance to act is based solely on his concern for Riley and not on his worries over the complications of the growing tangled knot of feelings in his chest. Really.)

He’s so caught up in his mental debate and the ominous uneasiness over where the story is going next that he almost misses when Riley starts to speak again.

“I started drowning, and I couldn’t see anyway to save myself. I started to think that maybe I shouldn’t--,” Riley cuts herself off as her voice grows shakier. When she starts again, it’s still thick and wet, but firm. “Uncle Eric wasn’t wrong when he said that if he hadn’t stepped in I wouldn’t be here anymore. By the time my dad called him at the end of the school year I was in a really bad place.”

“Riley! Light of my life, the one and only, my favorite niece in the universe!”

Riley’s bed jolts with the impact of an adult launching himself onto the end of the mattress and bouncing as he settles. The movement causes her to fall out of her position, huddled on her side and staring blankly towards the window, and onto her back. She doesn’t move to correct it, or to look at the newcomer. She knows it’s her Uncle Eric, and knows, because her parents aren’t subtle in the slightest, that he’s there as their last ditch effort to make her see reason and crawl back to her friends.

It’s a specialty of his, understanding people and repairing relationships, and she knows her parents are hoping that he can make her see the light. That as her favorite uncle somehow his words will get through to her and she’ll rethink her choices.

Only Riley is well past the point of going back. And she doesn’t really want to look her favorite uncle in the eye while he tells her how big of a disappointment she is; she’s done that enough with everyone else in her life and to do it again would just be too much. Even hearing it will be too much but it’s not like she has a choice. She never has a choice.

“It is a beautiful day at the start of the summer and I find you holed up in your room.” Eric says, a teasing exasperated tone gracing his voice. “The curtains on your windows aren’t even open. What gives?”

“I didn’t feel like getting up.” It’s the first time Riley has said more than a word here and there in a number of days and her throat grates. She’d add a shrug to her words but she can’t muster up the extra energy.

“But days like today are meant to be experienced! Haven’t any of your friends been by to drag you out?”

Riley closes her eyes. For all of his positives, nobody ever said subtlety was her Uncle Eric’s forte. “We’re not exactly on speaking terms. Or even friends.”

“Yeah, I heard.” The bed starts to shift as Eric moves; Riley can tell he’s wriggling his way up to put her head on the pillows near her, even without looking. “What’s up with that?”

Definitely not subtle.

“If you’ve heard we’re not talking then you’ve heard the story.” Her parents surely would have ranted every event as they saw it to him in order to get him to come down so quickly. She’d only overheard their conversation about asking for Eric’s help a couple of days ago and while the Senate wasn’t currently in session he had plenty of other work that he couldn’t normally just walk away from. Someone had to have said something to convince him it was urgent.

“Well,” He draws out the word, “I’ve heard their side of things. I want to hear yours.” Eric nudges at the side of her head with his own temple; it’s his usual playful way but it seems wrong, if only because she hasn’t felt anywhere close to playful for close to a year now.

She shakes her head minutely. “It’s not that different.”

“Considering how the story I heard sounds nothing like you, I’ll bet it is.”

Riley doesn’t dare trust the glimmer of hope that sits in Eric’s words. Sure, they might mean that he knows she’s a better person and he’s willing to actually listen and believe her, but at one point she’d thought the same about her parents. And her grandparents. And Uncle Shawn. If she thinks for one second that Eric might actually be on her side, it’s only going to hurt more when he’s not. “I don’t care. There’s no point.”

Uncle Eric exhales heavily. “Ri, there’s always, always a point,” he says, fumbling for her hand and weaving his fingers with hers. “If you really don’t want to talk about Maya and Charlie and Josh or whoever else then I’m not gonna make you. I couldn’t care less about them. I want to know about you and how you’re doing. The truth.”

The truth.

Just the idea sends Riley’s breath into a hitch.

The truth is that she’s beyond exhausted, and lonely, and she’s more than starting to think that everyone’s right and she’s being a horrible person. Half of the time just breathing hurts. It feels like every negative thought she’s ever had-every upset and bad mood she’s ever bypassed and tried to ignore in favor of being happy- has multiplied by a thousand and returned to come crashing down in a wave across her shoulders and she’s drowning. Swept beneath the surface and drowning and there’s nothing for her to try and grab onto.

Riley shakes her head and her breath hitches again. This time her shoulders move with it and before she knows it, tears are falling hot and fast down her cheeks. Despite her best efforts she’s a sobbing mess within moments, but Eric just sits up properly and hoists her up into an embrace, rubbing her back and murmuring into her hair while she cries into his chest.

“Eventually I calmed down enough to actually talk to him and tell him the whole story and what I was feeling.” Riley finishes. “And Eric just…promised me that I wasn’t doing the wrong thing, and that he was going to do everything he could to help me.”

“Like having you move in with him and Linda.”

“Well it started with just a summer internship he found me with one of his colleagues. I went and stayed with them while I did that and he got me into therapy and kept my dealing with my parents to the absolute bare minimum. And when I told him that I didn’t want to go back to New York for my senior year he didn’t fight me, just found some family friends in education who were willing to call in some favors to help get me a super late interview at a great prep school he lived near and took the hit of telling my parents that I wouldn’t be going home.”

Lucas nods, trying to reconcile the explanation Riley has given with the display at the karaoke party between the Matthews brothers. It’s not exactly difficult. “Hence your dad saying he stole you.”

“Exactly. Only it was all my choices, Uncle Eric just didn’t want me to be the one to tell them when I was in such a bad place. And ever since then, and when I decided to go to college out west, every time I see my family or talk to them, it’s exactly what you’ve seen. Awkward and uncomfortable at the best of times, outright hostile and downtrodding at others… they don’t hate me but they don’t exactly like me either.”

Lucas thinks over that assessment. It’s not totally inaccurate; the Matthews’ certainly aren’t trying to freeze her out of being there for Auggie or anything like that--they aren’t actively trying to make Riley miserable--but it’s clear that their affection comes with conditions. You either think and act a certain way or you don’t belong. And even though he doesn’t think Riley is all that far from fulfilling every one of those standards in the present day, because she didn’t do exactly what they wanted in high school and refuses to apologize for it or be a doormat any longer, her family is refusing to see that.

His family had been similar, although he had definitely been further away from their idea of what a perfect son was, and they had treated him like that every time he drifted for as long as he could remember, so when he finally realized how wrong it was and had gotten out from under them, it had been a fairly easy choice to cut the cord and decide he wouldn’t deal with them anymore. Riley didn’t have that blessing. She had a family that had loved her unconditionally right up until the point that they didn’t, so she had more dissonance to reconcile in their behaviors; she had something that most everyone would want to try and get back.

Lucas doesn’t want to overstep any boundaries, or give advice where it’s not wanted, but he knows this is a painful and tricky situation and not many people involved can look at it without the blinders of family on. Even Eric, who had done so well to remove her from the toxic situation in the first place is clearly reluctant to do or suggest more, only throwing direct blame tonight when pushed by the situation. Ultimately it feels like, as an outsider who has taken on taking care of Riley, he needs to try and say something.

“Do you ever think about not coming back? I mean, I get why you’re here for this. It’s Auggie’s wedding, and he’s a good guy and your brother so that’s pretty unavoidable but outside of this...why are you even talking to them at this point?”

#rucas #rucas fanfiction #riley matthews #lucas friar #gmw #fanfiction #au #fic: cold cape cod clams #cw: suicide #yikes I hate this ending #this is an incredibly long text post and tumblr has made formatting a lot harder so apologies if something is a little off #but...#here we go

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