#but in this case Max gets to talk that biological mother into reaching out and trying again for her son's sake

[microsuedemouse]

they said we're bringing Max back for One Episode let's make his reappearance so fucking meaningful--

opening up the Final Halloween Episode with the WORST not-a-Ghostface-mask masks I have EVER seen

[writerwhowritesao3]

Max and Billy both know how to cry on command. They learned from both years of living with neil and living in not in the safest neighborhood in Cali.

(I’ll leave this open for you to elaborate on if you want, since it could go as either 1. both of them doing it in funny/petty situations like getting to pick what movie to watch when hanging with the party and pushing over Hopper, or 2. Them having to use it to get out of fucked up situations)

Oh, abso-fuckin-lutely, anon. 

The thing is, both of them have known how to cry on command since they were kids—before Neil and Susan got married. 

When Max was in elementary school and her mom and biological father were going through a divorce, she didn’t turn in a fair bit of homework and straight-up flunked a few quizzes and tests. Like, to the point where she was in danger of having to repeat the grade. Her teacher, of course, noticed the obvious change in behavior since up until that point, Max had been a decent student. Her teacher held her back after school one day to talk about the situation...and Max just turns on the waterworks. Like, full on crying and shaking. It helped that her home life was currently a mess, but crying about it to her teacher tipped the case in her favor. Her teacher ended up letting Max retake a bunch of tests, turn in assignments  months after they had been due, and do some extra credit to make sure she wouldn’t be held back. The teacher never even told Susan about this because Max pulled the “my mom is soooo sad all the time now because my dad moved out” card. 

When Billy was ten, right after his mother left, he kind of fell in with a not-great group at school. One day his new friends dare him to shoplift some Hot Wheels car from a store close to their school. So Billy does. And an employee catches him and his “friends” run away, leaving him to deal with the situation alone. And so the employee does the whole “give me your parents’ phone number or I’m calling the police to let them deal with this” schtick. So Billy just starts crying and apologizing. And it’s really not that difficult to conjure up the tears because he was sad all the time anyway PLUS he was absolutely terrified of his dad. And this store employee is a college student and he’s hungover (at 3pm....) and he is just not paid enough to deal with a crying child, so he just takes the Hot Wheels toy back and tells Billy to not do it again. 

Fast forward six years. Their first year living in Hawkins, Billy is driving around with Max and he’s speeding quite a bit on an empty backroad. Like...boy is going eighty-five in a 40mph zone and Max is egging him on to go even faster. And he’s pulled over by Officer Callahan. 

Automatically, without even discussing it, both Max and Billy start crying. Max is fully sobbing by the time Officer Callahan reaches Billy’s window and Billy is pretending to be fighting back tears as he reaches for his license and registration. 

“Uh...you kids okay?” Officer Callahan asks. 

“Um,” Billy says, swallowing and blinking back tears, really laying it on thick. “Our mom just called and...and she told us our grandma just died...”

In the passenger seat, Max lets out a dramatic sob. 

“I’m really sorry for speeding, officer,” Billy says, tears rolling down his face. “We just need to...to go home and be with our parents...”

“Aw jeez,” Officer Callahan says, shaking his head sympathetically. “I’m real sorry to hear that, guys. Go on ahead, just try to stay within the speed limit, okay?” 

Billy and Max wait until Callahan has driven away to turn off the tears. 

“Do you think it’s bad karma to lie about Nana dying?” Max asks. 

“Nana’s gonna outlive us both,” Billy snorts. 

Their powers have limits though. Billy never cries on command to Neil because Neil tends to get more aggressive with him when he cries because only pussies cry. And both Billy and Max always feel way too guilty about making themselves cry to manipulate Susan, so they don’t ever do that. 

They also can’t fool each other. They spend way too much time together and know each other way too well to successfully fake tears. Max tried it once, when she was twelve and Billy was fifteen. It was over something stupid that neither of them can even remember. Max started crying and Billy raised an eyebrow and went, “Really, Max? I fuckin’ invented that shit, get the fuck outta here.” And Max immediately stopped, rolled her eyes, and said something like, “Yeah, whatever, Billy, fuck you too.”

[curiousherbal]

Growing P̶e̶r̶i̶o̶d̶ Pains

Mystic Messenger

*Also read Growing P̶e̶r̶i̶o̶d̶ Pains on ao3* 

707 / Luciel / Saeyoung Choi x Reader ; 707 / Luciel / Saeyoung Choi x MC

Fluff & Angst (borderline crack; also dash of h/c)

5.9 k

Rated: T ; TW: Blood

Summary: In all fairness, you had meant to clean up the blood before Seven got home.

*reposting this story in case ppl on tumblr would rather read it here :) ; be wary of Seven route spoilers*

In all fairness, you had meant to clean up the blood before Seven got home.

But it had been a rather tiring day; a tiring, exhausting, not-so-very-comfortable, bloody day. Oh, how the day had been bloody.

It was also only 2 pm.

But you were on your period, so you were allowed to announce the day as ended before it had even begun. Right?

Usually your monthly flows were relatively well-contained, provided you were provided for of course – that is with “all-night” pads (false – they lasted 3-5 hours max on your heaviest days) and supersized tampons (you rolled your eyes at the arbitrary naming of tampon sizes – I mean what’s so “super” about recreating The Shining every day for a week once a month anyway?).

The silver lining in the sea of red was that, as an adult, you were now fairly adept with dealing with Mother Nature’s gifts, a feat that only took many soiled pants, innumerable ruined bedsheets, and the adolescent trauma of tied sweaters around your hips – to accomplish.

You made a mental note to talk about that last one with your therapist next week…

“Ugh,” you let out a groan as you blearily blinked your eyes open. The sunlight streamed through the window blinds in the bedroom that you and Saeyoung shared.

Well, if he were here.

“Disgusting.” You muttered as you yawned and started to disentangle your sticky legs from the sheets.

Your hacker boyfriend had gotten called away late last night, err – more like early morning. Very early morning, you mentally amended with a displeased grunt. He left in a hurry, promising a quick return as he lobbed this and that into a scuffed duffle bag.

“I’ll be back for dinner, my sweetie!” He ruffled your hair and kissed the corner of your upturned mouth, bouncing on the balls of his feet like it wasn’t 1:46 AM. And like he wasn’t about to leave his sleepy girlfriend alone for the night.

“Really?”

“Why – would the Great 707 ever lie to his darling kitty?” Seven grasped at his chest, a look of mock hurt exaggerated across his naturally goofy features.

Resisting a grin at his silly antics, you made him promise to return safely. And by dinnertime, nonetheless. “I’m going to want ice cream tomorrow evening.” You stated drily with a slight twitch of your eyebrow.

“Ice cream?” Seven had a subtly puzzled expression, which he rapidly exchanged for his charming grin, “Of course! My princess requests!” And with that – a kiss on your hand, and a pat on the head to the robotic cat standing guard at the flat’s entrance – the secret agent had disappeared into the night, the last sign of his leave being that of the revved engine from one of his prized sports cars.

In retrospect, maybe you should have been more explicit when hinting that you were going to be on your period.

But you were on your period, and he was a 20 something year old man, and once again, you were allowed to be however you damn pleased, and he should know that you were about to have that time of the month again. Right? Right.

“FUCK.” You dropped your forearm dramatically across your forehead. “Really? Are we really doing this right now?” You picked up the habit of talking to yourself when Seven was away.

“Fine – guess so…” With a sigh of resignation, you braced yourself for the physical exertion required of one to get out of bed.

Your insides churned a bit; it was the tell-tale feeling that only accompanied that of your body prepared to spew blood the second gravity went against your favour. You felt it. You knew it was going to happen; you just didn’t expect for your period to get so heavy so fast, and only overnight too.

“Well there’s nothing for it, Meowy – we’re just gonna have to make a run for it…” You cocked your head to the side, narrowing your eyes at the feline robot that was now preventing the unassuming Roomba from dutifully trying to gain entrance to your bedroom. “On second thought – maybe I should attempt the Tooty-Ta instead.” You laughed grimly to yourself. I’ll have to show Seven that ridiculous dance when he gets home. Lord knows he’d love it.

Gritting your teeth, you peeled back the sheets and carefully swung your legs over the edge of the bed. Your knees knocked as you clenched your thighs together. A bead of sweat rolled down your temple. “Great, heat flashes too? I’m not that old yet, damn.”

“Mrrrrr?” Meowy rolled over to your side, stiffly upturning her neck to regard you curiously, her programming having sensed that you were in distress.

Taking a deep breath, you braced your clammy palms on either side of your hips and gradually began to rise.

Gravity is an incredible thing. An incredibly, predictable, annoying, but necessary force of nature – much to the chagrin of the uterine force of nature you delicately clutched between your legs at present.

One wobbly step. Two. You rounded the bed post and began to reach for the door frame. So far, so good. Encouraged, you picked up the pace. Maybe I overestimated the amount of blood? You smirked confidently and entered the hallway. The bathroom was at the end of the hall, adjacent to the kitchen. Alright – let’s get this bread. You began your penguin-shuffle down the hardwood hall, leaning against the smooth, eggshell finished walls as you attempted to maintain the delicate balance required of your makeshift dance. Ten steps. Eleven. You reached out for the bathroom door, expecting to latch onto the glass doorknob when –

“Agh!!” You tripped over the Roomba.

The blood gurgled and began to plummet (as liquids, and pretty much anything and everything else, are wont to do) now freed from the desperate clenching of your thighs.

With a cry of despair, you clutched at your abdomen as you felt the large swash of bodily fluids exit your aching genitals, seep through your thoroughly ruined panties – Nooo, these are the cute ones with cats on them that Seven got me! – and splat quite dramatically onto the floor.

If it weren’t for the ruined underwear, the upturned Roomba, and the general resignation of being on one’s period – you would have been rather impressed at the size of the splatter that now decorated your floor in a lovely, concentric pattern.

“This…. Has never happened before.”

And it hadn’t. Usually, your periods started in the evening, not the morning. Usually, they were the heaviest on the second day, not the first. And usually, they weren’t of such a viscous consistency and atrocious metric volume that they glitched right out of your body, through your clothes, and landed in a terrific mess on the floor.

“It’s the Honey Buddha Chips; it must be!” You let out a wail of disgust, blaming the sweet and salty junk food as the reason behind your abnormal flow. “Saeyoung Choi, you WILL be paying for my ice cream tonight!”

You failed to realize that ice cream was also categorized as junk food too.

With nothing left to lose, blood still dribbling down your legs, you pivoted on your feet and marched back to your bedroom. Fine. It’s gonna be that kinda day, huh? You angrily snatched a clean change of clothes from your dresser – this time with your designated Period Panties™ – and made your way back down the hall towards the bathroom. A nice, cold shower will do just fine. You tried to convince yourself it was to counteract the annoying heat flashes you had seemingly picked up as a symptom of your menstrual distress, and not to cool the hot, balmy tears of frustration that now streaked your flushed face.

And if it weren’t for the ruined underwear, the upturned Roomba, and the general resignation of being on one’s period – then maybe you would have noticed how your toes and heels squelched as they made contact with the glob of period blood still lying inanimately on your floor.

❧ ❧ ❧ ❧ ❧ ❧ ❧

Meowy was stressed.

Well, as stressed as her CPU could be, the mini gears and sensors running vapidly in her plastic and metal cat-shaped vessel.

Her auditory sensors reached warning threshold when her master’s precious one made loud noises of displeasure. Her visual sensors were already busy fighting off that dratted antagonist-of-a-cleaning-robot from earlier. And now her thermal sensors picked up the trace of something biological splatted on the ground. Something biological… and warm. Meowy saw red. But unfortunately, the cat robot couldn’t appreciate the literal nor figurative accuracy of that statement. She just knew she was stressed, even if her insentience didn’t quite allow her to know why, and even if that stress was purely mechanical, rather than emotional.

Master could purrrrobably add that feature in a future update, she surmised. Well, if robots could surmise, that is.

You were being quite a bother. And by bother, well, you were the source of your boyfriend’s cat robot’s overstimulation.

Upon showering, you exited the bathroom in a cloud of steam and clean clothes, fit with a cushy pad to catch the rest of your ebbing flow. Your bloody night clothes littered the cool tiles of the bathroom floor, and the goopy glob of period blood still sat, just as liquids are wont to do, inanimately in the same place as before (albeit, perhaps sporting a rustier hue as oxidation took effect).

It’s nice to be clean, you had thought, though the here-and-there prick of abdominal cramps and sporadic dizzy spells are nothing to long for. You had figured that some food and a glass of water would at least help the latter ailment, so you had proceeded to attempt to make yourself a late, light lunch.

Meowy frantically circled the small kitchen, letting out her programmed mews of concern every 2.35 seconds. During her 3rd or 4th worried lap, she ran right into your left foot, which you were precariously balancing on by habit.

For the second time that day, you yelped out an elegant “agh!” and dropped the knife you had been using to spread your favourite strawberry jam on the toast that you were planning to eat. The red-rimmed knife fell to the floor with a cacophonous clatter. Forgotten.

“Meowy!” You snarled as you towered over the cowering robocat.

Instantly, your rage dissipated to remorse as you felt empathy for the poor creature. Unpleasant images of Seven smashing the cat in a fit of similar rage accosted your brain, and with it, the tremulous and turbulent emotions from that past event too.

“I’m so sorry!” Your despondence flared suddenly and tears formed in the corners of your eyes. Mortified at how you treated your emotional support robot cat, you fled the kitchen in a teary haste. You tore down the hallway, intending to crash back into bed until Saeyoung came back home to make amends with Meowy and yourself –

Only to trip over the Roomba again.

“Oof!” Your knees crashed to the floor abruptly, your palms quickly reaching out to catch yourself from falling face first –

Only for them to slide out from under you after making contact with the slick pool of blood and period gunk that you neglected to clean up earlier.

And for the third time that day, you let out a final “AGH!”

SMACK!

Your face rammed into the ground, the bridge of your nose catching the pool of blood on your way down. Resigned, you didn’t move a muscle for five minutes, wallowing in your despair for yelling at Meowy, a lovely hybrid of self-loathing and disgust for not cleaning up the blood, and lonesomeness that ached every time Seven left on an indeterminable, clandestine trip.

Utterly wretched and still just as exhausted as when you had woken up approximately… you glanced at the clock at the end of the hall… 5 PM already??? … three hours ago, you cautiously raised yourself back to your knees. Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, you sighed dejectedly and stood the rest of the way up.

Trudging solemnly back to your bedroom, you froze as you looked at the state of your sheets.

“Are you kidding me?!”

The sheets were rumpled from your hasty wake-up from earlier in the day, yet that wasn’t what caught your eye. No – your eyes lamentably traced the spotting and pools of long-dried blood that stained the center spread of sheets in the dip where you had slept. I must have leaked before I woke up, and I didn’t even notice.

Dehydrated, fatigued, and entirely resigned to end the day, you turned around and walked the short distance across the hall into the guest bedroom that Saeyoung most often used as an office space for work. (Less often, his twin Saeran would camp out in the small room, though recently he refrained from spending the night, too afraid that he’d become further traumatized by the excitable noises that tended to emit from his brother’s room late at night.)

You didn’t care that there was still blood trekked all over your apartment. You didn’t care that you were now just as soiled as before you had showered. You didn’t care that Meowy was short-circuiting in worry. You didn’t care that Seven had yet to return. You didn’t care. All you wanted to do was crash and wake up from this nightmare of a day.

Just a quick power nap, and then I’ll clean it up before Saeyoung gets home.

So, you curled up on the couch beside Seven’s work desk and cocooned yourself in a large comforter. With your back to the room, you entered fetal position and drifted off to sleep almost instantly, the crown of your head just barely visible from between the cushions.

And if Meowy was yowling as if possessed, well, you were too exhausted to notice.

Not that robot cats could be possessed, of course.

❧ ❧ ❧ ❧ ❧ ❧ ❧

Fresh-faced and lively – Saeyoung was ecstatic.

The agency work turned out to be nothing more than a casual revenge-driven hacking: a harmless ploy orchestrated by a disgruntled employee trying to find some scrap of solace by antagonizing their rich, snobby boss’ computer system. Yes, it had been unfortunate that the job was sudden and required on-location skills, and yes, Saeyoung was rather reluctant to leave his adorably cute girlfriend alone for the night… but the goodhearted jokester couldn’t help but crack a smile as fond memories from just hours earlier accosted his mind…

❧ ❧ ❧ ❧ ❧ ❧ ❧

“Mrr?” Elizabeth the 3rd let out a perplexed mew as the penthouse front door opened silently.

Seven creeped in, a finger brought to his lips as his eyes widened upon seeing Jumin’s cat. “Elly!” He immediately clasped his hand over his mouth, embarrassed that he let his excitement upon seeing the pure white Persian cat be audible.

“My darling! Uncle Luciel has come for you~~” He playfully whispered as he set his bag down and crouched beside the spoiled feline.

Elizabeth sauntered up to the intruder, presenting her lushly furred back for caresses.

“Don’t tell Mr. CEO, but I’m working here tonight. I need to access his Wi-Fi network directly.” Seven ran his fingers up and down the cat’s back, encouraged by her accelerated purring. “Don’t worry, ‘tis nothing nasty my friend – he’ll just be forced to do all of his work by hand tomorrow. I think his computer deserves a bit of break, no?” With a conniving twinkle in his eye, Seven began unpacking his equipment, settling cross-legged with his computer on his lap and Elizabeth sprawled out at his side, butting her head against his thighs periodically as his hands flew rapidly over his keyboard.

A large snore startled the mischievous hacker.

“Pshhsh!” Agent 707 brought up a hand to conceal his mirth, desperately trying to muffle the delirious laughter that threatened to escape his throat. Elizabeth glared at him, displeased that the large hand had ceased massaging her backside.

“I’m sorry, my kitty-love, I just didn’t expect Jumin to sleep so soundly!” Seven cooed lovingly.

Within the next few hours, Saeyoung finished up his early-morning hacking endeavors as instructed and deftly returned his equipment back to his bag without making a sound. He stood up and adorned a wistful expression, sad to be leaving his Elly all too soon.

“Meow~”

“Oh, my dear – we mustn’t!” Seven scooped up the cat and swung her around, crushing her flat face against his sharp nose. “You know not the extent that this sweet parting brings me pain, but alas, our love is forbidden!”

“Mrrrrr…”

Seven gently placed the cat back down. She immediately began grooming her mused fur, unimpressed with Seven’s soliloquy.

“Always the lady.” Saeyoung bowed reverently, a hand on the door to leave. “Wait!” Digging excitedly in his duffle, the young man pulled out a thin, red, satin ribbon. A small pawprint locket charm clinked on the ribbon.

Gently fondling the jewelry, Seven clicked open the locket and gazed adoringly at the image within. “Ah, it’s perfect. A representation of our love, my Elly!” With one final glance, Seven clicked the locket shut and bent down to tie the ribbon loosely around Elizabeth’s neck, covering up the collar Jumin had gifted to her prior.

Elizabeth, none the wiser, mewled an unbothered farewell as Saeyoung patted her once more affectionately and made his departure with a cheeky air-blown kiss.

The hacker disappeared from the CEO’s penthouse, slipped past the guards once more, and vanished into the early morning – having one or two more things left to accomplish for the agency before he could return home.

What those tasks were? Well, perhaps it’s best that only special Agent 707 would ever know for sure.

❧ ❧ ❧ ❧ ❧ ❧ ❧        

This will pay the bills all for next month! Saeyoung thought with a grin, drawn back to the present as he lovingly slid his palm over the curve of the leather steering wheel. Plus, maybe this will teach Jumin not to overwork his minions. The young hacker smirked. He could already sense Jaehee’s displeasure when she would find out that RFA’s very own security hacked her boss for entertainment. And a bit of cash.

Seven wound his way through the hilly countryside, enjoying the dip and curve of the roads. He glanced at the car’s clock: 5:36 PM.

It was approaching dusk, and he was eager to return home. He moved his free hand over to his baby car’s console and pressed down on the window switch.

“Yahoo!” Seven stuck his head out of the window and let the wind ruffle his untamable ginger hair. His striped glasses pushed comfortingly against the bridge of his nose, as the golden hues of the setting sun reflected in his mutually golden irises.

A sudden pang of yearning overtook the young man, thinking about his princess at home. Though it happened without fault every evening, Saeyoung couldn’t help but feel anxious about missing the sunset. He wanted to watch every sunset with you; this would be the first one that you both had missed since you started living together.

A reversed flick of the window toggle and a harder stomp on the gas pedal later, Saeyoung sped back home with renewed urgency. We can catch the tail end of the evening together if I hurry.

Unbeknownst to him, the red, rosy fingers of sunlight that stretched linearly across the horizon were complementary towards the organic drops of red that currently decorated your shared home.

❧ ❧ ❧ ❧ ❧ ❧ ❧

It was a quarter past 6 when the door to your shared apartment finally received its missing tenant. The last of the sundry locks popped open, the metal restraints finally allowing the port of entrance to swing on its hinges.

“Honeyyyyyyy~ I’m hooOOOMMMEEE!” Saeyoung sang loudly as he shouldered his way through the frame. Closing the door behind him, the totally-averagely-paranoid hacker wasted no time in redoing all of the locks. Turning around with a relieved exhale, Seven carelessly dropped his duffle on the floor and toed off his shoes impatiently.

No less than two steps deeper into the flat, Saeyoung was just starting to acquire a sense of strange foreboding when a white blur came barreling around the corner of the hallway –

“Master! Master! Your precious one!” Meowy, hysterically wheeling herself towards her creator, belted as loudly as her speakers permitted.

“What the hell?” Startled, Seven eyed his rambunctious robot, unable to fathom what in the world could trigger his creation to act so frenzied.

“Master! Your precious one! Blood! Bleeding! Help!” Meowy shrieked, her pitch increasing steadily and becoming disconcertingly garbled, her processors unable to cope with the sensory overload.

Saeyoung froze.

Time stopped.

Her… blood?

…

…

BLEEDING?!

“What?! Where? Meowy what happened?!” Seven pushed past the yowling cat, crying your name as he further entered the apartment.

Seven frantically rounded the corner, his panic only increasing with every second that you neglected to greet him at the door. You always greet me when I come home! Where are you!?!  He shouted your name a second time, his heart hammering in his chest, muscles constricting painfully as his mind began to whirr with confusion and pain. You can’t be taken… not again… We just got this together... us.

“Honey?? This isn’t funny!” Saeyoung quickly glanced to his left as he passed the kitchen.

He froze.

There. On the ground.

A knife.

It’s red.

Clumps of something that was equally red and sticky looking surrounded the knife. The knife that should not be laying carelessly on the floor. The knife that very obviously fell on the ground in a struggle and was currently tainted red.

His airway felt constricted. His sense of hearing muffled, despite Meowy still shrieking incoherently at his feet.

As if in his own personal horror movie, Saeyoung pivoted his head to his right, now looking in to the bathroom. Terrified eyes locked onto small, red footprints that graced the floor. They traveled from the hallway onto the cold tiles. He assessed the criminal scene with widening eyes: blood stained clothes were thrown haphazardly before the shower. Your nightclothes. Your nightclothes that you had definitely been wearing. His own t-shirt that you so adorably asked to wear at night, citing that it smelled just like him. The large shirt that he gave you in mock exasperation, secretly fawning over your cuteness when you slid it on.

Look Seven, it’s like a dress on me!

With another frantic gasp, Saeyoung wailed your name brokenly. Once again compelled to action, he tore his gaze from the bathroom and began to sprint anxiously down the adjacent hallway. He needed to find you. Now. It was dark. The air was stale. His nose twitched in distaste as he sensed the twinge of iron that faintly permeated the hall before him. It felt like there had been little movement in your apartment today. He fumbled for the light switch on the wall. His trembling fingers just missed it. His body was already surging forward, so he continued his aching search into the hall blindly, his feet shuffling against each other lamely –

Why is there blood why why why this can’t be happening

Saeran and I… we got rid of Mint Eye, we survived, we did we DID!

but what if they came back

Why did they take her clothes off??

unless…

Seven’s stomach sank nauseously.

what if they took her what if – no no no nononono NO!

There was a sign of a struggle; she’s bleeding, she’s hurt!

She’s …. Dying.

…

NO please God no–!

Saeyoung suddenly tripped over something heavy. He crashed to the ground, blinking away the tears in his eyes despite not being able to see anything in the dark.

His scuffed palms instinctively reached out to catch him. Angry at his own clumsiness, he fumbled for his phone in his back pocket, swiping up to access his flashlight.

“AGH!” He sprang back in a shocked stupor.

A worryingly large pool of dried blood stood out conspicuously where he had just fell. Darker red, nearly black, glossy clumps of something sat atop the dried blood, having congealed to the consistency of rancid jelly.

Without turning back to see what he had tripped on, Seven screamed your name in utter despair, propelling himself upwards as he desperately searched the last two places you could be. Not wanting to confront the bedroom just yet, he yanked open the door to his office space, quickly glancing around in a fretful daze. Not being able to locate you immediately, he finally turned to your shared bedroom. His phone’s flashlight zeroed in on the bed. The empty bed. The empty bed that was speckled with the same blood that stippled the hallway. And the bathroom. And the kitchen.

You weren’t here.

You were taken.

You were injured.

You were gone–

“No!” Saeyoung collapsed to his knees, struggling to dial the keypad on his phone. He wasn’t even sure whom he was calling when a meek voice sounded out behind him.

“… Seven?”

Dropping his phone in alarm, Saeyoung spun around, ignoring how the carpet burned his knees as he pivoted.

You. You were there.

You were clutching at the bedroom door frame, highlighted only by the last surviving streaks of sunlight creeping through the blinds. You looked… fine. Maybe tired at worst.

Saeyoung choked out your name, his eyes instantly filling with tears. Both of you were frozen for several moments, him out of complete bewilderment, and you, cranky but concerned, having finally been woken from your deep sleep by wails of despair. And then –

Seven rushed to his feet and crushed you against his chest. You could hear and feel his heart thumping erratically in his chest. His breath came out hot and moist as he pressed his lips to the top of your messy hair. His lanky arms wrapped tightly around your startled frame, his fingers finding their desperate purchase around your waist and the small of your back. His taller frame shook, and you soon felt something wet streak down your temple. “I thought I lost you.”

Still utterly confused as to what exactly was happening, you just returned his terrified embrace, perplexed as to why your eyes suddenly filled with tears too.

“Seven… Saeyoung…”

He clutched you even tighter, the symptoms of a full-blown panic attack likely to ensue.

“Luciel.”

Alarmed, you leaned your face back and looked deeply into his blown eyes. You placed shaking yet comforting palms against either side of his sharp cheeks. Fighting past the cotton in your throat, you sought answers for his critical state.

“What do you think happened?”

He let out a wobbly sniffle and returned your intense gaze, gathering the courage needed to answer you coherently.

“Your… your blood. Why is it all over the apartment?” He croaked painfully. As if spooked again, his eyes widened almost comically once more: “You’re not hurt, are you?? Oh God, I didn’t even think to check first. Of course you’re hurt; your BLOOD is all over the place. Oh fuck, it’s on your face too. oh my god. Don’t move, I’m taking you to the hospital oh God…” Saeyoung began to stoop as if to pick you up but you hurriedly made to halt him.

“What – no Saeyoung, stop. I’m fine. See? Why ever would you think that… oh.” You gulped nervously, the hot flush from earlier now creeping up your neck and overtaking your face in shame. Well… fuck.

“Please don’t be mad… um,” you nervously averted your gaze, your hands dropping to pull his wrists out from your sides. You laced your fingers together. “Let’s sit down, yeah?” You guided the shaken man to the end of the bed and then turned away.

Thin fingers suddenly encircled your wrist.

“My sweet, I’m just turning on the lamp. It’s dark now.”

“Oh… right. Of course.”

You padded over to the wall, flicking the switch so that the yellow overhead fluorescent bathed everything in a sad hue.

“Okay so…” You took a shallow breath and eased yourself down onto your boyfriend’s lap, his arms wrapping around your waist once more. You began to card your fingers through his hair. It was a position that brought you both immense comfort and security. “Don’t laugh, but… uh, and I’m really sorry for causing you so much distress, but ahh I guess maybe my body was just so surprised that you got called away real early this morning, remember? Oh of course you remember, you just got back... And so – oh Seven, it must have been the chips! I’m so sorry! I’m a terrible person; I yelled at Meowy and – the underwear! With cats! Saeyoung dear, please understand I didn’t mean to! We can get another pair. But I really blame that stupid Roomba for all of it.” You trailed off pitifully, averting your embarrassed eyes in favour of studying the corner of the bedroom instead.

Silence settled in wake of your rambling statement.

“You… what?” Seven loosened his grip and stared up at your fretful eyes with utter confusion. “Babe,” he took a shaky breath alike to yours, “you know I love you, always, and I mean this in the nicest way possible, but – what the fuck are you talking about?”

Unable to hold back your torrent of hormone-induced emotions, you blurted, “I’m on my period!”

“You…”

“It happens every month, Saeyoung.”

“Yes, but… it’s not supposed to get all over the floors! And the walls! And the bed – Babe! The knife! There are clumps of FLESH in the hall!” Seven held your arms in a tight grip, forcing you to look right at him.

“I know! I… it was a heavy flow.” Your eyes cast downwards pathetically. Oh man, do I wanna curl up in a ball and die…

Abruptly, a chuckle resounded off the walls. The chuckle grew into giggling, which then grew into bellowing laughter. You joined in with your boyfriend’s mirth, both of you laughing to expel any of the remaining insecurity and fear you both felt. For every laugh, a tear was shed, and for every hysterical giggle, your interlocked hands squeezed the other.

Growing pains and period pains, your relationship had both.

❧ ❧ ❧ ❧ ❧ ❧ ❧

You didn’t get to watch the rest of the dwindling sunset together.

After calmly and patiently explaining your abnormal and premature flow, accompanied by the resulting afternoon fiasco via Meowy’s unfortunate presence, you had gotten Seven back to a stable mental state. He blushed furiously, embarrassed that he reacted so dramatically to something as old-hat as your menstrual cycle. But you shushed him, gave him gentle, chaste kisses, and assured him that his reaction wasn’t unfounded. It had been… upsetting for you too, even if your feelings were rooted in annoyance and crankiness more so than fear.

Still shaken by the sight of your blood, Saeyoung insisted that you both cleaned up the flat together. He didn’t want to leave your side, after all. With a light smile, he suggested maybe a game to make the task less grisly. An unassuming pair of handcuffs (which were actually the tipping point for Saeran moving out the day he saw them), a large sponge, and some soapy water later, you and Saeyoung were racing down the hallways nearly on all fours, jointed at the wrists, challenging yourselves to stay upright as you both pushed the same waterlogged sponge across the hardwood floors.

You were both giggling loudly, which only became amplified when you realized that you both still hadn’t up-righted the miserable Roomba.

“Left! Left!” Saeyoung shouldered your direction leftwards, and you both were able to – finally – avoid a third collision with the sad robot.

When you both released yourselves from your metal confines and entered the bathroom, you sadly presented your soiled cat panties to Seven. He wasn’t quite quick enough to hide his grimace. The little cats sure do look hellish with all the blood splatters… You cringed in agreement. The footprints were scrubbed off the tile, and you gathered your discarded clothes to put in the hamper.

“See, my lovey, it’s just the underwear that are bloody.” You held up his t-shirt that you had taken to sleeping in. Seven blushed harder and stammered an apology. “Don’t apologize, everything else was pretty much covered in blood… it’s natural to think that the shirt was too.” You offered an easy, albeit still concerned, smile. He gratefully returned it.

Saeyoung stammered the most upon seeing the knife in the kitchen. “I uh –, “ he cupped the back of his neck, “I didn’t really inspect it earlier. I just saw… hehe… red.” His face turned the colour of his hair. Meowy let out a mewl of approval.

Cracking a grin to yourself, you shook your head. “I know.”

❧ ❧ ❧ ❧ ❧ ❧ ❧

It wasn’t until an hour or two later that you both had finally cleaned your flat of the remaining incriminating evidence. Both tired, you were entirely resigned to spending the rest of this nightmarish day cuddled with your boyfriend in bed. It seemed this was Seven’s train of thought too, until his eyes suddenly lit up with excitement.

“Babe!” He twirled you around the kitchen, picking you up and settling you down on the counter. He wedged himself between your legs as you were winding your arms around his neck. “I didn’t forget.”

“Hmm?” You offered him a dazed expression.

“You scream~” He began to improvise one of his many cutesy melodies, “I scream~~”

Your eyes brightened with sudden realization: “We all scream for ice cream!”

“Yes! My princess requests! And so, I shall deliver!” He kissed both of your cheeks, helped you down, and then shucked off his coat. Wrapping it tightly around your shoulders, he tilted your chin up, “Cute.” Wink.

“Allons-y!”

❧ ❧ ❧ ❧ ❧ ❧ ❧

Jumin had had a terribly frustrating, annoying, absolutely baffling day.

Upon arriving at work, he was met with a flustered Jaehee.

“Sir, something’s wrong with the network,” she glanced down at her clipboard, “And, ahem, well your technologies, sir.”

An arched brow. “My technologies?”

“It appears everything fed through your devices ends up not going through. I’m afraid we’ll have to complete all documents the old-fashioned way today.”

The other arched brow. “The old-fashioned way?”

“Handwritten, Mr. Han. Everything will have to be done by hand.”

Assistant Kang’s words sealed Han Jumin’s fate. His hands cramped. He had ink smears over his pinstriped dress shirt. And his hair now sported commoner cowlicks.

Jumin returned home around 9 PM, exhausted and bleary beyond belief. “Elizabeth, my love – come and comfort your father.” Jumin stumbled into his penthouse, intent on cuddling his cat since she somehow eluded him earlier that morning.

“Meow~” The stunning Persian vocalized lazily as she sauntered up to her master.

“Ah, what a fine lady you are.” Jumin scooped her up and nosed her long fur. Something round and cool brushed against his skin. Curious, Jumin fondled the delicate metal lock attached to an imposter satin ribbon looped around Elizabeth’s neck.

“What is this?” He scoffed, irritated that one of the guards must have thought to play dress up with his cat.

Jumin set Elizabeth down and removed the ribbon. He clicked the locket open. Inside, there was a photoshopped photo of Saeyoung and his Elizabeth recreating American Gothic, but with childish doodled hearts and horrendous text in Comic Sans font:

707 x Elly forever!!!

“Luciel… I expected no less.” Jumin rolled his eyes. “Well done I suppose, though I’ll have next draw, of course.” The tall man smirked enigmatically to himself and went to bed.

❧ ❧ ❧ ❧ ❧ ❧ ❧

But for now, somewhere in Seoul, you shared an ice cream sundae with Seven.

❧ ❧ ❧ ❧ ❧ ❧ ❧

Notes:

Several notes ~ hello! I am relatively new to the mysme fandom (quarantine really said hey, why don't you go ahead and fall in love with the RFA boys, and I woefully agreed) This story is actually sort of based on something that happened to me, believe it or not. I mean, beside the having Seven as my bf part T_T I had a really heavy flow one month, like my body decided to just do the period all at once on one day instead of drawing it out for a week or so like normal. So yes - I woke up, felt impending doom as one does, and then stood up to make it to the bathroom. Well, gravity check - like all this blood and ya know the squishy period stuff fell out instead and I was like??? ok???? This was also at like 4am, so I cleaned myself up, and went back to sleep. Sadly, I had to clean up the massive splatter on my floor when I actually got up several hours later. That was probably tmi, but hey, periods are a natural part of life so~~ I'm fine, dw. Periods just be weird sometimes. ANYWAY - you can leave me prompt ideas or send them to me on tumblr via the same username (curiousherbal). The end of this fic sorta alludes to another fic I have in mind ;) EDIT: Which I have now posted, it may be found here Thank you so much for reading! This was a mammoth. I only ever wanted it to be around 1k, but here we are nearly 6k words later.... I just love seven ;_; ok bye bye

[ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes]

Field of Poppies Part 8

Summary: After being apart for six years, childhood friends Tommy and Amelia reunite under odd circumstances. Tommy is an outspoken young man and Amelia is pregnant and out on the streets. The bond of family can be unbreakable but it is tested often. Especially when Europe descends into war.

Part 8: Maxwell Thomas Shelby, the newest member of the Shelby family. 

            It happened one unseasonably warm fall day. September 16th, to be exact. Amelia was getting a glass of water from the kitchen, just minding her own business. It wasn’t until she stepped to the side when she noticed a bit of liquid trickling down her leg. At first, she was embarrassed, not sure what was happening. Then it dawned on her that it was most likely the start of what she’d been afraid of for almost nine months.

             “Uh…Pol?”

            Polly was writing carefully in a ledger in her office in the betting shop. “Have a question, love?” She asked, a bit distracted by numbers. It was early in the afternoon and the shop was abuzz with activity. Odds being shouted back and forth, money passing hands, and the sound of chalk on the blackboard. But Amelia had quietly flitted her way to Polly so she wouldn’t call attention to herself.

            “How would I know if my water’s broke?”

            That immediately grabbed Polly’s attention. The woman’s head shot up and she dropped her pen. “Your water broke?”

            “I er, I think so. I don’t know for sure though.” Amelia pulled up the hem of her skirt a bit.

            “Alright, let’s get you upstairs then, just in case.” Polly jumped up and rushed over to the young woman.

            “I-fuck!” Amelia suddenly shouted and doubled over when she felt her first contraction.

            The men in the shop all turned to look at her in confusion.

            Polly knew if anyone had the most sense in the home, it was her. “All of you clear out.” She ordered. “Now.”

            “Pol…” Danny looked a little lost. There was no way Tommy and Arthur would appreciate all of them leaving in the middle of taking bets.

            “I said get the fuck out!” Polly snapped; a bit louder. That was enough to convince them, as they all scattered. But she stopped Danny at the door. “Get Tommy, bring him back here, tell him she’s gone into labor and he needs to get here now.”

            “Yes, ma’am!”

            Polly got Amelia to sit down. “Take some deep breaths.” She soothed in a calmer voice.

            “Pol, I don’t think I’m ready.” Amelia was suddenly terrified. It was easy enough to say she wasn’t scared when she was just pregnant. But as she was getting ready to give birth, the reality was hard to ignore.

            “Well, that little boy is ready, so you’ll need to be too.”

~~~~~~~~            

            For a moment, Tommy thought Danny was playing a joke on him. But it became clear that Amelia was going into labor. So he ran the entire way back home.

            “Pol? Mel?” He called.

            “In the shop!” Polly yelled back. She was kneeling down next to Amelia, holding her hand and coaching her through her breathing. “Help me bring her upstairs.”

            Tommy froze a bit. Amelia looked panicked as she clutched Polly’s hand and gave little, shallow breaths.

            “Thomas, get your head outta your arse and help me!” His aunt stood up.

            Running on nothing but instinct, he scooped Amelia up into his arms and did his best to carefully bring her upstairs. Mid-way, Amelia let out a groan of pain.

            Tommy didn’t even have the words to comfort her. He had no clue what to say, all he could do was listen to Polly.

            “Go downstairs and get a heap of towels,” Polly instructed as he lay Amelia down on the bed. As Tommy dashed back downstairs, she helped Amelia sit up against the pillows. “As long as you keep breathing, you’ll be okay.” She promised as she helped the expectant mother strip down to her slip to make the delivery easier.

            Amelia had no time to be embarrassed, and she didn’t have a reason to either. Polly was like a mother to her and there wasn’t anyone else she trusted to deliver her child.

            Tommy came back upstairs in the blink of an eye, running purely off of adrenaline.

            “Set them down here.” His aunt instructed. She sat down by Amelia’s feel so she could check the progress of the labor.

            Tommy set the towels on the bed and stood frozen. He could remember the awful screams from the room when his mother was giving birth to Ada and Finn. It was terrifying and even though he was an adult when Finn was born, he was afraid his mother was going to die. It wasn’t the most outlandish thing. He’d heard of mothers who died during childbirth. What would that do to him if Amelia met with the same fate? He felt like his heart was in his throat and he had to push the thought away.

            “Tom…” Amelia reached out to him. Her hand was trembling slightly.

            “You want me to stay?” He asked, moving to take her hand.

            She didn’t even have to answer. Aside from Polly, there wasn’t anyone else there for her. Her parents didn’t care where she was or even if she was okay. The biological father was just as careless.

            “I’ll stay.”

     ~~~~~~~~~~      

            And he did. He didn’t move from his spot the entire time. Even when Polly when to wash a couple of towels or get a drink, he stayed.

            “Remember when Maisie was in foal?” Amelia asked, bringing up the conversation to take her mind off the contractions.

            It had been some time since Tommy had thought about the mare that they both loved so much. She was a paint pony, barely over fourteen hands with a long shaggy mane and a mark on her face that was the shape of a crescent moon. She was the first pony almost all of the Shelbys rode. When Amelia and he were about ten, Maisie gave birth to a beautiful filly they named Maybel.

            It was almost midnight as they crouched in the hay with a lantern in hand. They watched from afar, too curious to look away from the active birth. Charlie stood near, ready to intervene if needed. Amelia would always remember how Maisie tenderly cared for Maybel. Keeping her tiny foal close, and licking her damp coat. She and Tommy nearly stayed up all night so they could see Maybel stand on her wobbly legs for the first time. It seemed so effortless and beautiful. Now that Amelia was in the midst of it, she didn’t think it was as easy as Maisie made it look.

            “Yeah, she was a good horse. We gave her to a farmer out in the country when she got older. He needed a pony to keep his mule company.

            Amelia smiled. “That’s sweet. What about Maybel?”

            “Think we sold her to one of Charlie’s kin. One of their little girls took a liking to her if I can recall correctly.”

            That please Amelia. “Good, they deserved good lives. They were so kind.”

            “All horses do.” Tommy agreed.

            “Even that mean gelding who bit you and threw you off constantly?”

            “Major?” He chuckled. “That bastard made me a better rider.” He recalled when they were a bit older, maybe twelve, around the time he started to fancy his best friend. He took Amelia to the Yard to show off the new horse his uncle got. Tommy was allowed to ride him mainly because Charlie believed that a green horse was a good test for any Traveller boy.

            Major was the tallest horse he’d ridden at that time. He was a stunning creature, muscular and strong with a shiny, chestnut coat. But he was as mean as could be. Charlie said horses weren’t born mean, they were taught. No one knew exactly where Major had learned how to be so mean. They just knew that Charlie had rescued him from slaughter.

            And when Tommy took Amelia to see the gelding for the first time, he made the rookie mistake of turning his back to the beast.

            Amelia didn’t have enough time to warn him. Major stretched out his neck over the stall door and bit Tommy’s arm.

            It was humiliating to be bitten in front of the girl he had a crush on. But he loved the horse no matter how many times Major dumped him, bucked him off, tried to bite him, or pinned his ears back at him. Tommy knew he never would’ve become the rider he was without him.

            “I was scared of him,” Amelia remembered. “Everyone was except for you.”

            “He was just misunderstood.” Tommy shrugged. “He rode beautifully when he behaved.”

            Amelia watched him, her mind drifting away from the contractions she was trying to count. “You should see your eyes when you talk about horses.” She murmured. “You just light up, Tom.”

            His face burned up a little bit. “Well, I dunno.”

            “Maybe you take what you earned from the betting shop and put it into working with horses.” She suggested hopefully. Amelia figured that if she could draw Tommy away from the life of a bookie to someone who worked with horses, she would be doing him a favor. He’d be so much safer.

            “I plan to have horses.” He said. “Once we have it in the budget. We’ll have stables at our house in the countryside. That’s where Max can learn to ride.”

            It sounded so promising, even if it was a stretch to imagine it ever coming true. But Amelia knew that he was deflecting. Getting that house in the countryside would only be the result of getting money from God knows what. She didn’t completely know or understand Tommy’s plan of action, how he anticipated earning so much money. But she knew that no one earned the amount of money he was looking towards through honest means.

            But Amelia couldn’t give it any more thought. Another contraction hit her and she squeezed onto Tommy’s hand. “Getting closer.” She wheezed. “I’m so tired already.”

            “Try to relax best you can, like Pol said.” He soothed gently. “I’m right here.”

~~~~~~~~~~~           

            All in all, it only took about five hours from the time Amelia’s water broke in the betting shop. The sun was just starting to set as Polly helped guide the baby boy into the world.

            The first Tommy heard his son cry was heartbreaking. As the second oldest, he’d almost become deaf to babies crying. It was just a part of life. But when Max cried, it struck him right in the heart. This little bundle was now his responsibility until the day he died. It was something he didn’t take lightly.

            Amelia was exhausted but she let go of Tommy’s hand so she could reach for her baby.

            Polly wrapped up the wailing newborn in a blanket and placed him on Amelia’s breast. “He sounds healthy.”

            “I told you, she’s always right.” Tommy couldn’t help the smile on his face.

            Amelia was in too much awe to acknowledge Polly’s premonition. “Look at him, Tom.”

            Max’s face was all scrunched up as he cried, his little fist pressed up against his mother’s collarbone. He only had wisps of light brown hair but it was too early to tell his eye color.

            “Wow…” Tommy was stunned. He didn’t know what he’d feel when he first saw the child he promised to help raise. He figured it would be some sort of affection, who could look at a baby with malice? But he was taken aback by the devotion he felt immediately upon seeing Max.

            Amelia was completely overwhelmed as she cradled her son close to her chest. When she discovered she was pregnant, she was terrified. Everything about it scared her, her parents’ reactions, the father’s reaction, the reaction of friends. She was worried about how people would perceive her having a child out of wedlock. When she was disowned, she was angry at herself, angry at the man who assaulted her, angry at her parents for taking his side. She didn’t want to be pregnant. She didn’t want to be a mother. There was no way she would be able to care for a newborn. She felt lost and hopeless.

            But there, in Birmingham, holding her son, all of those fears and worries felt foolish. All of a sudden, she was willing to jump through hoops for her son, fight an army single-handedly to keep him safe. She would starve, be penniless, even die if it meant keeping him safe. This tiny little being was suddenly all that mattered to her in the world. And it brought tears to her eyes knowing that he depended on her. That he would look up to her and expect her to be her best. She needed to be her best for him.

            For nearly ten minutes, Amelia silently sobbed as she held Max. She softly whispered her promises to him. Whispered how much she loved him. Whispered how he would never know the struggles she had known.

 ~~~~~~~~~

            A couple of hours after Max was delivered, Amelia was wiped out. She fell asleep as Tommy went downstairs to introduce his son to the rest of the family.

            “Everyone, I’d like to introduce Maxwell Thomas Shelby, the newest addition to the family.” Tommy propped Max up a bit in his arms so everyone could see him.

            His siblings drew close to see their nephew.

            “Healthy looking lad, aye?” Arthur smiled, proud of his brother for stepping up for Amelia’s sake.

            “Now we’ve got two babies in the house?” John grimaced. “We’ll never get any sleep.” The teenager protested. 

            “I think he’s cute,” Ada said. “Is he and Mel gonna stay with us forever?” She asked hopefully.

            “Yeah, Ada, I think they are.” Tommy looked down at Max fondly.

 ~~~~~~~~~          

            Tommy couldn’t sleep and it wasn’t because Max was keeping him up. In fact, the baby was sleeping quite soundly in his cot. He’d cried about an hour earlier and Amelia had nursed him back to sleep. Now both mother and child were fast asleep in the same room. Tommy was sitting next to the cot, his back to the wall. He watched Max through the bars of the crib, watching every breath he took. Tommy wasn’t sure if he was scared by how fragile the newborn seemed to be, or if he was still in a bit of shock. He wondered what this little boy would grow up to be. Would he like horses as much as Tommy did? Would he look up to him?

            It was a bit frightening to look so far into the future and realize all that could potentially happen to any of them. The uncertainty drove Tommy mad. He wanted to give Amelia and Max everything they deserved, he just wished he knew the future so he could know he was going down the right path. He wanted to know that he would uphold his promise.

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Tag list: @shelbyblinded

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[with-deaths-constraint-on-me]

He Withers In Silence - Chapter One

Prologue | Chapter One | Chapter Two

Nate had started his journey from his aunt’s farm near the Six Rivers National Park this morning. He had spent two hours on a greyhound and the last three hours hitchhiking, what would normally take a forty minute journey as nobody would pick him up. So, he was dirty, tired, and frankly both angry and worried about the conclusion of this trip.

Three weeks ago, he had bribed, with his aunt’s help, his social worker for his birth certificate and his father’s details, knowing that going to Tara for help was pointless.

His so-called mother didn’t want him, but she didn’t want anyone else to have him either. So, she refused to allow Aunt Lily to adopt him so he can legally be her son but left him here for her to raise from birth. Anytime the question of adoption has come up she has threatened to remove him and put him in a home.

Hence the reason he needed his birth certificate and fathers’ details, he had bribed emancipation forms from his social worker as well. This means that as a legal adult he can stay with his aunt and take over full care of the horses while finishing high school and going to the local university for veterinary school.

The reason he had to bribe his social worker is that Tara was paying him extra, so he didn’t get moved to a foster home or get adopted. Mr Gooch, the social worker knew that Nate preferred living in McLaren Rescue Farm with his aunt than anywhere else anyway.

But he had become used to the regular money from Tara, so needed incentive to help emancipate Nate as he wouldn’t get paid again once the forms were filed.

So, once he was paid off and give Lily the forms he needed and his biological fathers address. Lily paid for Nate’s ticket online and made sure he had enough money to catch a cab once he got off at the closest stop.

Nate, being Nate, decided to keep the cab money in case he needed it for food, and hitchhiked the rest of the way. Luckily for Nate, a truck driver going back to the depot in Charming picked him up and all he wanted for the journey is for Nate to buy him lunch.

On the way down to Charming, Max the lorry driver informed Nate about the goings-on in the small town while Nate told him about the farm and his plans to become a vet.

To say that the SON’s were surprised when one of Wayne’s lorries drove into the lot and let out a blonde teenager would be an understatement.

Gemma came out of the office in time to spot the teenager getting out of the lorry and nearly had a heart attack because the teen almost looked identical to Jax at that age, and how she imagined Thomas would have looked if he had survived.

As Thomas, while obviously, Jax’ brother had, had her slightly sharper features.

Turning to Chibs who was also staring at the kid in shock, she nudged him in the side harshly, “Go and get Jax,” she ordered and taking a deep breath walked towards the teen who was talking to the lorry driver.

“Can I help you?” Gemma interrupted the two.

“Mrs Morrow, sorry for the disturbance.” The driver politely greeted the SON’s matriarch, I picked up Nate here about an hour outside of town, “Apparently he needs to see your Jax.” Explained the kind older man.

Turning to the kid, she found his focus behind her, as she turned, she noticed Jax leaving the garage.

“How old are you kid?” she questioned.

Looking at her, properly for the first time, he runs his eyes over her face recognising those cheekbones from his own reflection. He mumbled a, “sixteen,” at the intimidating woman.

Turning away, with a whispered, “Motherfucker!” Gemma walked away to meet Jax halfway across the yard.

Nate watched as they had a whispered argument, obviously about him, he hadn't realised how much he looked like his father’s family but it explained some of Tara’s resentment.

Jax stormed over from his mother towards Nate and went to grab the boy’s face to get a better look at him, but wary of the angry biker Nate stepped back out of his reach with a familiar look of contempt on his face.

“Jesus Christ!" Jax exclaimed. As he recognised Tara’s features on the boy.

Gemma finally caught up with Jax, to find him silently distraught and lost in his thoughts . Comforting Jax as best as she could with her presence. She turned to the teen who was looking quite uncomfortable.

“What’s your name, sweetheart?” she questioned.

“Nate,” he stated. “Look I just come here for you to sign some forms,” he said while looking at Jax. “Whatever this is, I want no part of it.”

Jax and Gemma smirked at each other as they recognised the boys attitude, as apparently, it was genetic. “what’s your full name?” Gemma asked again.

“Nathanial John Teller Knowles.”

Jax and Gemma shared another look, “Why don’t we take this into the office.”

“As long as my papers get signed, I don’t care where.” Was the flippant reply from Nate.

The two lead Nate into the office trailer, both aware of the audience they had of the other SON’s and some hanger-on’s who had also noticed how much Nate looked like their VP and Matriarch.

“Friends of yours?” Nate questioned as they paused at the steps leading to the office.

“Family.” Stated Jax proudly.

“Club members?” Nate questioned

“You know about the club?” Gemma questioned as she held the door open for the boys.

Passing the older woman, Nate shrugged, “I’ve heard somethings.”

Huffing, Gemma made her way to her seat behind the desk, “Nothing good, I bet.”

Nate took a seat on the sofa, while Jax sat on the arm. “Not from Tara no,” Nate replied with a smirk.

“So, I’m right, Tara is your mother?” Jax questioned, unable to understand why she wouldn’t have told him.

“Well, yes. Well, my biological mother.”

Jax was confused by the need for the distinction. “what’s with the distinction?”

“Jax…” Jax looked over at his mother, who was incredibly pissed off. “It means she didn’t raise him; it means he was brought up by strangers.”

“Not strangers, Aunt Lucy,” Nate stated, not wanting Lucy to be called a stranger in that way, she was his family and the only one to honestly care about him.

“Aunt Lucy? As in your Grandmothers sister?” questioned Jax having been there when Tara’s mother died, and that side of the family descended on Charming for her funeral. His lips twitched as he realised something, “You’ve been living on a farm?”

Rolling his eyes, “Yes I’ve been living on a farm.” He stated. “Can you sign these now? I need to get back to Aunt Lucy in the morning.” He said as he handed the forms to Jax.

Reading the title Jax raised his eyebrow before handing them to Gemma. “Emancipation forms? What for?” questioned Gemma.

“If you have been living with Lucy why do you need me to sign them?”

“Because Lucy hasn’t been able to adopt me, and there’s the possibility of me moving into a foster home or orphanage if she becomes ill or has an accident on the farm.”

Jax looked at Gemma as they both noticed how he avoided talking about Tara.

“And where has Tara been while you have been living with Aunt Lucy.”

Nate frowned, “I couldn’t tell you.” Scowling at the looks past between Gemma and Jax he decided to come clean, “If you couldn’t tell, Tara abandoned me with Aunt Lucy, and whenever Lucy tried to adopt me or become my legal guardian, Tara showed up and stopped it or pays off my social worker so that I stay at the farm, but Lucy can’t make legal decisions for me.”

“Which is why you are here with emancipation forms for me to sign.” Jax run his hands over the face in frustration, “I’m guessing my name is on your birth certificate?”

“Yes…?” Nate questioned suspiciously

“The thing is, kid we never knew you existed until you jumped down from that lorry,” Gemma added as she tried to get him to understand.

“I figured that by your reactions, just another lie I guess.” Nate added, “but it doesn’t change anything for me. I need to be emancipated so that when Lucy is in the hospital I can look after the farm without fearing I’m going to be taken away.”

“OK cards on the table, now that I know about you Nate, I want to get to know you. Now, this has been a shock for me, but I need you to answer me some questions OK?” Jax asked his son.

“Sure,” Nate shrugged.

“Right, first off what did Tara tell you about me?”

“She said that you abandoned the both of us for your club, and you are the reason why she couldn’t raise me since I remind her too much of you.”

“That little bitch!” exclaimed Gemma, who was trying to stay out of it and let Jax handle the situation.

Jax scowled masking his hurt. “OK, well first off that’s wrong. One, Tara didn’t leave Charming until she was seventeen and considering your age, she had you at fifteen, which means she was my girlfriend for the first two years of your life before she decided to fuck off to college. Two, she never told me anything about you, so I’m sorry she lied to you because I would have welcomed you with open arms.”

Having to stand up due to his anger, Jax paced as he questioned, “So, the farm I’m guessing that’s where you wish to live?”

“Yes,” Nate stated.

“OK, I’m happy with that.”

“Jax!” shouted Gemma in disbelief, always having been possessive about family, and they had already been separated for far too long.

“Mam! He is sixteen years old, if that’s where he is happy then I’m not going to drag him away or threaten to like Tara has been doing.”

Seeing her sons point, Gemma held her hands up in surrender.

Turning back to Nate, “As long as we visit and get to know each other, if that means I have to drive up to the farm every weekend to see you then that’s what will be done OK?”

Nate looked at Jax and evaluated whether he could be trusted. “Yeah OK, it would be good to have more people around.” He said nonchalantly as if he didn’t care either way.

“OK now if you can stay at the farm, what if I apply for joint custody with your Aunt Lucy.”

“Could you do that? I mean Lucy has been fighting Tara for years to get custody and it never happened.” Nate said leaning forward in interest.

“Yeah, we have the best lawyers on retainer and will be safer for you than emancipation” Jax reassured. “Now what’s wrong with your Aunt Lucy? And is she OK to travel?”

“She’s recently been diagnosed with epilepsy. She had a Grand Mal in the pigpen, if one of the workers hadn’t found her the pigs might have eaten her,” Nate smirked and scoffed at the looks on their faces, as they digested what he said.

“Pigs will eat anything. She’s unable to work now while they find her the right medication, which is why she needs to be admitted into hospital while they test the different tablet contributions to find the best one for her.”

“And let me guess she won’t go in and leave you unprotected, hence the forms,” Gemma added.

Nate nodded in reply to Gemma before answering Jax’s other question, “She can travel but is unable to drive herself.”

“OK phone her, I’ll arrange for someone to pick her up, you’ll both stay in Charming this weekend while we meet the lawyers and the rest of the family, and I’ll drive you back up myself.”

“OK, I’ll phone her now, and sort everything out. She will most likely want to talk to you though.”

“That’s fine. Gemma and me will inform everyone in the clubhouse what’s going on. You make that phone call and come and find me when she wants to talk OK?”

Waiting for Nate to nod in agreement, he waved Gemma out of the door, leaving Nate to compose himself before phoning his aunt.

“What are we going to tell them?” Gemma questioned Jax.

“The truth,” Jax stated.

“And Tara?” Gemma had to ask.

“She’s not welcome, at least until me and Lucy have guardianship.”

“And after then?”

“You might have to run interference because if I see her anytime soon, I’m not sure what I will do. And I don’t want to jeopardise getting guardianship by getting arrested.”

“OK baby. Whatever you need.” Gemma agreed, seeing all the pain Jax was hiding under the anger.

[birth-fic-lover]

The sperm bank has a info leak

Max was sitting in front of his tv, he was making his way though a bowl of cereal watching the news. He didn't usually watch the 7am news, but this morning was different. Max worked as an electrician so was used to early starts, but today was his day off. He didn't know why or how but he sensed it being different, usually if he woke at half 6 on a rest day he would roll over in bed. But this morning there was something in him that told him to get up and start the day.

He decided to watch tv until he finished eating then he would get washed, he listened to a segment about Fox's. Then just as he put a large scoop of cereal in his mouth he saw a logo he recognised, it was the logo of the sperm bank he had donated too a few times.

"This sperm bank is one of the most populer in the city, known for it's efficiency and privacy. But late last night someone hacked into the system, this person has been then passing on the details of donors to the users of the sperm. This means the donor's anonymity is now gone and the families can now track down the donor."

Max dropped his bowl, he wondered if he would be contacted. Could he be contacted? He only startes donating a year or two ago so any children from his donations would only be babies, he knew he had no fear of them trying to track him down. He breathed a sigh of relief, all he had to do is make sure that his info was erased from internet before the kids were old enough to use google. There would be people from the centre who would make sure the leak was contained surely.

He decided to not even think about it, he decided to get dressed and go to work. Wait no today was his day off, he would get dressed and go out. Where he didn't know, but he would be productive. He had a shower, got dressed and tidyed the flat.

3 hours later he felt very productive, maybe he should leave the flat now. Get some fresh air, maybe text his friends see if they want to grab a beer later. Maybe he could spend the rest of the morning shopping for new jeans or looking at those headphones he wanted. Either way he was going into town, he put his hand on the handle of his front door when there was a sharp knock on from the other side of it.

It made him jump out his skin, he let go of the handle like it was red hot. He wasn't expecting anyone, so he looked though his peep hole on the door. He could see a lady, even though though the tiny bit of glass it wasn't very clear he could tell she was pregnant. She knocked again. Almost automatically he stepped back and open the door, the women had her hands on her hips.

He quickly took in the women in his doorway, she was very angry and very pregnant. He saw there was a print out in her hand with his picture and other details, it seemed that though no children from his donations would be trying to contact him there mother certainly could. “Are you Maxwell Lowe?” the women asked not keeping the anger out her voice.

Max thought this was ridiculous firstly because she knew he was since she had his address and picture, secondly because she seemed angry like he had personally knocked her up rather then her purposely getting pregnant and thirdly no one ever calls him Maxwell. But he stayed calm “Yes that’s me, I’m guessing you used one of my donations.”

“Yes” she said angry “yes I did, under false pretences it seems”. 

Max felt like this was going to take a while and he didn’t want his neighbours to over hear this, “would you like to come in? you can tell me all about this over a cup of tea”. 

“Yes, yes I would” she said with a nod and comes straight in. Max goes into his kitchen, while he is boiling the kettle he starts to think over his application. He can’t think of anything he said that could of mislead anyone, he hadn’t pretended to have any extra qualification's or added extra cm’s to his height.  

He brought the tea to his living room and placed it on the dining table in front of where the women was sat, he got the milk out the fridge and put it on the middle between them. “Right” he said calmly “so obviously you have gone to a lot of trouble coming to see me, so what seems to of not added up?”.

“It seems someone was able to access the files at the sperm bank I used, and then distributed the information to the patents who successfully got pregnant. Well this morning the I was sent an email with your details saying you were donor 55928, now I thought this must be a mistake since I purposely chose donor 55928 because it said he was American.” 

“It says that because both my parents are American, I moved over here when I was a baby. I told the clinic this and thought I have never lived there they decided to put I was American because biologically I am” Max explained.

The women seemed the flinch then starts rubbing her belly, “well that’s a problem for me, I wanted someone who lived on the other side of the world so that when my child turns 18 I don’t have to worry so much about sharing her”. 

“So it’s a her?” Max said.

“I didn’t want you to know that” the women said quickly.

“Listen, I have no interest in being a dad. If your daughter even tracks me down I would be happy to meet once so she can tick it off her bucket list but that’s it” Max said trying to reassure the women “I promise you, sorry what’s your name?”

“Ruth” she says automatically “dam I didn’t want you to know that either”.

“I promise you Ruth this baby is all yours” max said with a smile “you don’t have to worry about sending me pictures or updating me. I am sorry if I miss lead you or worried you.”

Ruth seemed satisfied “Well I’m glad we got things sorted, thank you for clarifying everything. I have to go, sorry I didn’t drink my tea.” She said in a rush as she stood. 

But then she let out a low moan “ooooohhhhh” and she sat down again.

“Is everything alright?” Max said confused with what just happened. 

“Sorry I woke up having contractions this morning, but I didn’t want to go into labour worrying about this. That’s why I rushed over this morning”. Ruth explained while soothing her belly.

“Weren’t you worried about not making it to the hospital in time?” Max said.

“No no, I have plenty of time. Labour takes hours to progress, just seems that the contractions are getting a little more intense and it caught me off guard. Anyway I will drive myself to the home now everything has been sorted.” But as she finished talking a look of surprise took over her face and she looked down. 

“Another contraction?” Max asked

“My my waters just broke hooo hooooo oh my goodness, I need to go home now” Ruth said standing up but Max could tell she looked unsteady on her feet as she clutched her belly.

“Ruth I don’t think you should be driving in your condition, let me call you an ambulance” Max said reaching for his phone.

“NO” Ruth yells “no hospitals, I have a midwife that will come to my house. I just need to call her and tell her to meet there”.

“Really Ruth, what if you have a crash. It’s just not safe, if I had a car I would drive you myself. I could call you a taxi” Max said trying to stay calm.

“Nnnnnnaaaaaaa no” Ruth gasps leaning against the table “hooooo hoooooo hooooooooo, I don’t want to give birth in a taxi. I’m such a fool it’s too late, I don’t think I would get home in time hooooooo”.   

Max placed the chair behind her and she sat gingerly “Why don’t you call your midwife, get her to come here. I know this isn’t where you want to be, but I think I have a CD with whale noises.” 

“I hate whale noises, but yes thank you. Could you fill your bath with warm water in case I need it?” Ruth asked rubbing her back.

Max took his time filling the bath wanting to give Ruth her space to call her midwife. When he returned she was sat on his sofa, all she had on was a smock and her knickers.

“The midwife is on her way, but I checked I’m almost dilated and I can feel the baby moving down already.” Ruth said rubbing her belly.

Max got some towels and put some over the sofa and also dried the floor, Ruth keep having contractions and moved around the room trying to find comfort. “Hooooooooooo I need to push, I can’t hold her in she’s right there”. She leans over the table and widens her legs. “Ooooooooooo oooooooooo OOOOOOOO, MAX take me to the sofa take me to the sofa”. 

Max rushes over and helps her to the sofa she tries to lie down, but doesn’t seem able to. She drops to a crouch holding onto Max with one hand and the other is on her belly. Max could tell she was pushing hard, he didn’t know what to say as she moaned and complained about the pressure. 

She gripped the sofa and pulled herself up and then let go of Max, he could see that the head was now bulging out her underwear. She leans over and puts her forearms on the back of the sofa and stretches her legs wide to make room for the baby’s shoulders. “Max pull them down and tell me how far out is she”. 

Max knew what she meant and pulled her knickers down, just then the first shoulder popped out “Ruth she’s almost there one more push and she’s out”. 

Ruth put her hands on her baby let out a scream and as she brought her arms towards her chest a baby was in them. Max supported her and sat her down on the sofa.

“Thank you” Ruth said “I am sorry that I came here to tell you to stay away only for me to give birth to her in your flat”.

Max chuckles “I think it’s fair to say that this will be quite a story when I see her again in 18 years time, if she wants to see me”.

Ruth “maybe I can keep you in the loop about her after all, now where’s that midwife”. 

[singledarkshade]

Waverider Detective Agency

Part Five

Gideon let out a soft sigh as the therapist smoothed something that smelled like peaches onto her face as she lay in the treatment rooms just off the relaxation area near the back of spa. When she’d arrived, after changing into the robe and slippers, she’d set loose Ray’s little drone before heading to meet her therapist.

Now she couldn’t do anything else so was just lying back and enjoying her treatment.

The only concern she had at the moment was her new partner. Gideon knew she could have done this without any help, she’d done things like this plenty of time over the past year, but he had insisted.

She had considered that it might be best if they just worked separately splitting cases between them but Gideon also knew that Mary didn’t want that. The reason she’d put Rip in the agency was to help him and leaving him alone would not do that.

Gideon hoped he was able to pull off what she’d told him to do. She had no idea if he could lie or not.

 Rip walked into the spa and looked around. It was decorated in soothing muted colours, there was a faint hint of incense and calming music was played as all the employees wandered around wearing what looked like pyjamas and a pair of flip flops.

“Welcome to the Paradise Spa,” the young woman at the reception desk said gently, “Do you have an appointment?”

Rip shook his head, “I’m actually looking for some gifts. Next week is my sister and girlfriend’s birthday.”

“Two in the one week,” the woman smiled.

“On the same day,” Rip replied, hoping it would garner him sympathy, “At least it means I don’t forget one of them.”

The woman chuckled, moving back slightly Rip saw her name-tag which read ‘Fiona’, she said “So, what kind of gift are you looking for? We have gift-cards for treatments either a specific one or just an amount to put towards them. We also have a range of gift-boxes with our own skin care products that we use here in the spa.”

“I don’t think a gift card would be well received,” Rip said, knowing this to be true from experience, “So what gift sets would you recommend.”

Fiona smiled at him, “Well that depends on what the ladies in question like, as well as what skin types they are,” she laughed at his blank look, “Okay, let’s go with their personalities.”

This he was prepared for, Gideon would take the place of his sister and Kendra the place of a girlfriend if he needed to describe them. Gideon has passed him a picture of them from the previous Christmas and assured he knew them well enough to describe their personalities.

Rip smiled, “Well…”

  Gideon left the spa feeling quite relaxed after her treatment, smiling amused when she spotted Rip sitting on a bench nearby, a bag from the spa at his side.

“You bought the giftsets?” she asked amused.

Rip stood picking up the bag and shrugging, “I felt guilty considering how much work she put into finding them for me. You and Kendra can decide which one you want.”

“Why not send them to Mary?” Gideon asked as they started along the streets heading back to car so they could return to the office.

He shrugged, “Think of it as a thank you for putting up with me when you’re so used to working by yourself.”

Gideon smiled at him, “Thank you.”

Reaching the car Gideon slid in waiting for Rip to throw the bag in the back before getting in the passenger seat.

“Kendra has sent us all the information she found,” Gideon said as she drove, “I’ll download the drone once we get back to the office so we can see if it found anything.”

“You can go home,” Rip told her, “I can go through everything.”

Gideon glanced over at him and gave him a smile, “I actually like this part. Looking at clues and putting the pieces together. All we need is some food and we can get to work.”

“Okay,” Rip nodded softly, “What do you want to eat?”

She mused on this before shrugging, “Let’s see what John has to offer tonight before making any choices.”

“Is the food that good?” Rip asked.

Driving into the empty parking space near the office, Gideon nodded, “You’ll see.”

They climbed out the car and started towards John’s place, as they moved closer Rip frowned to see a long queue coming out the door and along the street.

“Oh, it’s Chinese food,” Gideon noted happily moving closer.

“You do know there is a Chinese takeout place less than a block from here with probably less of a queue,” Rip noted.

She smiled, “True but it won’t be as good. The chef John gets for these nights is amazing and worth the wait,” she stopped him saying anything else, “Plus John won’t let us wait in the queue.”

As predicted the moment they reached the queue, Hazel, one of the waitresses appeared and waved to Gideon, “John asked to see you in his office.”

Gideon turned and gave Rip a smug smile before following Hazel inside with him following on behind her.

Every table in the room was full, there were people waiting beside the bar with the line spilling out the door. Hazel disappeared the moment they were inside to get back to work while Gideon lead Rip to John’s office.

“I really don’t get this,” Rip noted, “He changes his menu every day, is it on a weekly cycle so everyone knows what’s being served tonight.”

Gideon shook her head, “No. I do know he uses social medial well and has managed to build a reputation for himself.”

The door opened and John slid in, leaning against the door with a small sigh, “It’s chaos out there tonight.”

Gideon chuckled, “You brought it on yourself, John. You know how popular this night is with your followers.”

“I know,” he sighed, “And this was the only night Max can make for the next few months. Anyway, what can I get you two to eat?”

“You’re letting us skip the queue?” Rip asked amused.

John shrugged, “Gideon is family so will always be first in line.”

“Can we just get the special taster meal for two to go?” Gideon asked, “That should be enough for both of us and you can get to try a bit of everything, Rip.”

John grinned, “No problem love.”

                                  *********************************************

  Gideon sat cross-legged on the couch in the reception area finishing off her rice as Rip sat on the floor against the couch his long legs stretched out in front of him eating the last of the salt and chilli chicken.

“Okay,” Rip moaned, “You were right. That was incredible food.”

Gideon smiled at him, “Do you mind if I ask you something?”

“It depends on what you’re asking,” Rip noted darkly.

Setting the empty container down Gideon turned to look at him properly, “Why don’t you like being called Michael?”

Rip shrugged, “Because it was my father’s name and I want nothing to do with the man.”

“Then why not change your surname too?” Gideon asked.

“Because Hunter is my mother’s surname,” Rip replied, laughing at the bemused look Gideon was giving him, “Mary adopted me when I was ten.”

Gideon nodded, a small spike of jealousy going through her for a second, “I didn’t know.”

He shrugged, “I tend not to wear a sign around my neck.”

“I shouldn’t have pried,” Gideon said, frowning when he chuckled, “What?”

“Then you wouldn’t be you,” he replied, giving a sigh Rip shrugged, “Alright, I have invaded your life so you are owed something and my story is a small price to pay.”

Gideon sat quietly waiting for him to continue speaking not wanting to say anything and make him change his mind because she’d wanted to know this since the day they met.

“My mother, biological mother is someone I know only a little about but I know she was chased by my father,” Rip sneered slightly, “Wooed until she fell for him and I was the result. But the man didn’t want a kid, even though she was convinced until I was about three months old that he did. She named me Michael after him.”

“What happened to your mother?”

Rip took a drink of the beer he had sitting on the table, “She died when I was six months in an accident. I lived with my aunt until I was four when she died too.”

He took another quick drink before continuing, “I was put in care after that. Mother…Mary had lost her own family so would come and help out at the home every so often,” he stopped lost in his memories for the moment, “I was eight and angry because every time I thought I might get a family someone else was chosen.”

“I remember that feeling,” Gideon said softly.

Rip nodded, storing that small piece of information, “Anyway on one of her visits she found me sitting alone so sat to talk to me. I didn’t say much but I remember how sad I was when she left. I was stunned when she came back the next day with a book she’d been telling me about. Then she came back the next day and the next and the next,” a small smile touched his lips, “Two weeks later she asked me if I wanted to come live with her. I was ecstatic.”

Gideon sighed softly, “I can only imagine.”

“Anyway, two years later she was going through the paperwork to finalise my adoption but discovered my father hadn’t given up his parental rights,” Rip sneered slightly, “It is the only time I remember meeting him and I never wanted to ever again. He walked into the house like he owned it, looked at me like I was a piece of dirt before turned to the amazing woman who had taken me in and told her they should get this over with. He had dinner plans.”

Gideon frowned, “He sounds hideous.”

“He was,” Rip agreed, “But his wife came with him and she sat with me. We talked briefly about school before she handed me a piece of paper saying it was a present for me but I was to give it to mother once they were finished. Then they were gone and I knew that the moment I could I was changing my name.”

Silence fell between them when Rip finished his story.

Gideon frowned in thought, “What was on the paper?”

A small smile touched Rip’s lips, “It was a bank account that she had put together. I used the money for University.”

“I have one more question,” Gideon said.

Rip rolled his eyes, “Of course you do.”

“Where did the name Rip come from?”

“My wife,” he said softly, “We met in school and when I told her about my plan to change my name as soon as I could, Miranda made a list. She liked the sound of Rip Hunter. Said it sounded like someone who had adventures so started calling me Rip and it stuck.”

  After tidying up the remains of their meal, then putting away all their work Rip and Gideon headed back to their apartment building. They didn’t talk, both caught up in their own thought barely noticing the man in the dark hoodie who pushed past them into the street when they opened the main door. They walked up the stairs in silence, neither even thought to take the elevator and reached Gideon’s floor.

“You did well today,” Gideon said softly, “Although our budget won’t run to buying something every time we need to survey a shop.”

Rip shrugged, “I’ll do my best. Although thinking about it you got a facial out of the budget.”

“Get some sleep and we’ll pick up on our leads tomorrow morning,” Gideon told him, “Goodnight.”

Rip started up the stairs, “Goodnight.”

Heading along the corridor to her apartment Gideon slowed, her door appeared to be sitting slightly open, but she knew that she had locked it when she left. Deliberately she began to move closer, pulling out the taser she carried for protection. Reaching the door she scanned it but it didn’t look like anyone had forced it open or picked the lock. Swallowing worriedly she armed the taser before gently pushing the door open. On the wall directly across from the door was a photograph of her, it was attached to the wall by a knife through her chest with a message below in red – ‘Mine’

Horrified Gideon let out a scream.

Part Six