#but ive literally been in a trance for the past week I NEED HELP

[sawceelcd]

so i just got into drarry (very late might i add) and what if i curl up into a ball and die. what if i scream and rip my hair out. what if i punch a mirror to feel something. what if i

[lemmetreatya]

In Words I struggle to Express — Bassists!Onyankopon x Singer!fem Reader

➡️ synopsis: the launch party went absolutely great and the after partys going to be even better! but somehow, it was a certain someone’s presence you were banking on in order for the night to truly be a success.

➡️ word count: 2.3k

➡️ content: no warnings

➡️ author’s note: fuck. okay. this is…very very self indulgent and basically based off our silly little mmbcu (dont ask) so ive tried to take out all the stuff that needs context so everyone can read it without too much issue. however for clarities sake: reader is in a girl group (called MMB) whilst reiner (drummer), zeke (vocalist), jean (vocals/guitar) and onyankopon (bassist) are in a band. at this point of time, Ony and reader aren’t in an established relationship.

if anything, id like to thank @pisspope for coming up with this specific idea earlier this week. i hope you know it’s rotted my brain ever since. thanks.

It was a success.

After months of constant tweaking, track ditching, debating lineups and self-doubt in your artistry — at final last: You had performed your album in full for your ceiling-packed launch party of family, friends and industry names alike.

Despite the shortcomings that came along with it, you hope the album lands well as it goes public tomorrow. Your band members have done their best in assuring you of it’s legendary status (“It literally serves cunt, you’ll be fine.”) and so there was only room for you to have faith that it’d do numbers — even if it was a diversion from your usual group's musical sound.

But even now, as the dregs of adrenaline still coarse through your veins, it’s just you left alone in the green room. You were only in the process of changing outfits, silk pink gown snuggly sat on your frame, but it was the creepinks of wallowing unfulfillment that somehow found its way into your heart.

Your band members and their other halves have graciously said that they’d set forwards on to the afterparty. Something about being ready to welcome you when you eventually do enter the venue where the after party was being held. You were okay with that — and thankful that they were thinking of you in that regard — but since it now left you alone with your own thoughts and own reflection in the mirror, you could feel your performing high start to come down and realisation kick in. That ultimately, despite the many wins you’ve received tonight, you were still alone.

“Can I come in?”

Rather than it being the knock, it was the steady voice you were oh so used to that reeled you out of your trance, your eyes finally locking back into focus. As you turn your head away from your reflection and into his direction, you could automatically feel your heart pick up pace.

“Well, doors open and you’re already halfway in so…”

A breathy excuse of a laugh leaves your throat — a sorry attempt at making yourself seem more pious for him than you actually were — but it was absolutely no help at all. Within his presence, you only ever felt more anxious than you should.

Onyankopon tries his best to force a laugh back but it doesn’t translate well. It seemed pained, even more forced than yours, and so you had to avert your eyes —  Save yourself from reading into something you didn’t want to.

You had to do that more for you than for him anyways. Because it’s been iffy with Onyankopon these past few months and with how he’s been treating you.

Not that you were complaining; He was a man who treated you to nice things and valued your opinion. A man who understood when you needed to be handled or when you could handle your own. A man who also understood your craft and was more than happy to aid his own. It was all well and good between the both of you and he was a gentleman wrapped in one. Only issue is that Onyankopon has never clarified what the fuck you two were.

Which, in itself, was off-putting. But concerning he had so much creative process on your album? (Actually, most of his band did, but since you possibly liked him just a tad bit better, his efforts were well more noticed) And considering you had to stick so many unsolicited hard hours alongside him? And keeping in mind how you were practically eye fucking him from the stage half the time you were performing your album — the sultry songs all directed at him?! You figured he’d somehow get the hint that you were open, willing, waiting for him to make a move.

As he cautiously took further steps into the room, you wonder if your requested audience would result in pushing him to make that move.

“I won’t take up too much of your time.” He hums with one arm suspiciously behind his back. 

He attempts to clear his throat yet he’s unable to do so the first time. It takes him several goes, a cough and a bat at his chest, before he’s able to achieve his goal. By now he just feels stupid, fumbling something as simple as this in front of you but he chooses to champion on.

You however, can’t help but find it endearing.

“No, you’re good. Still got a few minutes till we’re heading to the Ritz for the after party.”

You turn around in your chair, silk gown that crosses over the intersection of your chest one tug away from being labelled ‘provocative’. Unintentionally, but definitely welcomed.

“You coming, right?”

And you know you’ve tempted him — far more than you should be — because Onyankopon’s eyes automatically wander to the exposed skin of your chest. Stare locked on for several seconds before he’s forced to recognise his error and flick his eyes back up to meet yours.

“I…not this time.” He clears his throat again. “Which is mainly why I wanted to come see you now since I won’t see you after this.”

“Oh…”

You try your best not to look disappointed; for your shoulders not to sag and your bottom lip to stay free of being snagged between your teeth but it’s inevitable to stop the way your heart sinks halfway down your chest and your gut wretches inwards.

Right, of course. He was a busy man.

In your head, you know he probably had good reason to skip out on this big night of yours, but you can’t help the small teasing voice that reminds you that every one of his bandmates found a way to clear their schedules in order to make the party tonight. Everyone but him.

Subconsciously you tug the material of your gown over your chest.

“Maybe next time then.” You feign. Suddenly you don’t feel enthusiastic for your own event.

Onyankopon knows he’s fucked up your mood and he’s mentally kicking himself for doing so. Personally, he wasn’t going to say anything— just not show up and let you enjoy your time without him. But it’s Reiner, the drummer of their band, who nudged him to at least apologise for not coming.

Actually, Reiner nudged him to say a lot more than just his apologies for not being able to make the after party. He had berated Onyankopon in wisdolic manner about asking you out properly as opposed to keeping you exclusively on his arm. A proverb about ‘hope deferred making the heart sick’, “And you don’t want her to be sick because of you, do you?” He warned. 

In all honesty, he didn’t hate what Reiner was saying. He really did want to make a move on you! And he genuinely had the intention to as well. He also thought it’d be ideal to ask you out considering he was very much planning on taking you to go meet his parents soon but…

It just wasn’t the right time.

“It’s never the right time, is it?” Says a more nihilistic voice in his head, but he ignores it for sanity’s sake.

Onyankopon shuffles his footing.

“I’m sorry. Something really important popped up and you know I’d usually be there and…Look, I just wanted to come see you and mention you were really great out there. I know we, well, more you, worked really hard on this album and all but I genuinely just want to say that I’m really, really, proud of you.”

There’s a twitch of recognition on your face but the man’s rambled words did nothing to lighten your mood. You only turn your head back to your reflection in the mirror.

“Thank you, Onyankpon.”

Okay, you’re using his full name. That’s how he knows you’re upset at him.

Now he’s regretting even coming here. Onyankopon doesn’t want to go round blaming Reiner for your lack of reaction to him but deep down, he knows that’s all him. He knows that either way, mentioned or not, his absence would have upset you. He doesn’t want to now give you even more reason to be upset so he guesses he should start wrapping this up. 

“Congratulations on the album launch. That was the main thing I wanted to say. I should have started with that first…”

With an outstretched arm from behind his back, Onyankopon offers you a box of luxury chocolates and a freshly picked bouquet he could fit all in one hand. In all honesty, he would have definitely gotten you something bigger, better than you could have ever imagined! 

But, he just didn’t have the time. 

“You never have the time—“ “Shut up. I know.” The voice in his head is cut short. 

However, contrary to the heart felt gift, it seems your attention can no longer be brought. Despite his presentation, your expression is fixed and occupied on your reflection. Onyankopon suddenly wonders whether you were always this down when he wasn’t around. 

You sniff once but not because any tears were about to grace your face. 

“Thanks.” You say without looking back at him. “You can put ‘em over there with the others.”

Onyankopon’s gaze follows where your eye line draws to within the mirror. 

Sure enough, towards the side of the room there's a table where a mountain of gifts, flowers and congratulatory efforts lay. Onyankopon takes two steps towards it before sheepishly laying down his now rather measly looking present within the only sliver of table available. 

If he didn’t feel so out of depth with you, he would have dryly laughed at how low effort his offering was in contrast to Jean’s, his band’s guitarist. 

As he could see, the man had brought you an expensive bag bouquet — a gift extravagant enough to take up half the wall behind it. There was even a large bottle of champagne and a D’usse that tagged along with it and a card that had your stage name curved in beautiful calligraphy. 

You and Jean didn’t share a relationship anywhere as near as efficient as you and Onyankopon’s to warrant this type of gift, but he guesses his bandmate took great pride in the help he had on your album. Onyankopon even feels a sense of irate jealousy as he remembers how the two of you danced back-to-back on stage as Jean played his guitar solo during your final song. 

His throat runs dry at memory recall of the performative sight. Surely, all of that was to provoke him. 

“Sorry.” You suddenly blurt out and Onyankopon’s attention is instantly brought back to you — the physical you. 

“I kinda need to get ready now. Vans almost in front.” You drastically avoid his eye contact. “If I could just have these last few minutes alone that’d be great.”

With your last sentence mumbled and your hands playing at your gown, he knows you’re not telling the whole truth but he was honestly out of his depth here. All Onyankopon could do was fulfil your wishes. 

“O-oh! Oh, sure! Sure, yeah I’ll let you���I’ll let you get to it.”

With almost bashful demeanour, Onyankopon backs away from the table and makes a beeline towards the door. 

But it feels wrong. It feels incomplete. 

It’s not like he wanted to force himself against your boundaries but he just knows that if he leaves now without saying anything — he might just wound your ebbing relationship beyond repair. 

In some sort of divine intervention, Reiner’s words about not being the ‘hope deferred’ that resulted in making you sick, kicked in. As soon as the phrase comes to him, a looped smile starts to grow onto his face. 

“Now's the time!” His inner head voice says and for once, he lets it speak. 

Stopping in his tracks, Onyankopon mentally gears his courage up before turning on his heels and blurting out the first thing that came up his throat.  

“Hey, uh…look, I really do feel bad about not being able to make tonight. I wanna make it up to you so how’s your availability for the day after tomorrow?”

You’re surprised by his offer but you don’t wholly show it. It’s the way you pretend that his preposition didn’t excite you that made Onyankopon want to burst out in laughter. You were so cute when you were trying to be aloof. 

“Depends.” You shrug as your eyes actively avoid his. “I have an early morning promo interview for the album and my evenings fully booked.”

Onyankopon enthusiastically nods. 

It made sense you were busy concerning the work needed to be done for your album drop but Onyankopon was determined. Onyankopon wanted to make this work! 

“Okay, that’s fine. How’s lunch time for you?”

There is a look of ponder on your face and a sparkle in your eye. You roll your lips in contemplation before quote mark nonchalantly, shrugging your shoulders. 

“Relatively free.” You quip. 

Yes!

“Great! Leave it open for me. I’ll take you out on a date.”

Onyankopon is pumped enough that he’s already heading out the green room and so you get up from your chair to shout after him.

“Wait— Ony, to where?”

The man turns round to face you, a ghost of a smile gracing his lips. Not the most infectious smile but it’s his and so automatically, you’re drawn to it. 

“Don’t worry about that. Just dress comfortably. I’ll pick you up from whatever studio you’re recording at.” He says before making his way out. 

With a huff of disbelief, you sag back down into the chair. 

It wasn’t unbelievable that within the spur of the moment, Onyankopon had thought up a date to take you to. He was like that — It was kinda his thing — but there was something about this particular mystery date that you found yourself looking forward to. 

The same smile from before grew larger on your face and your reflection in the mirror relayed the same message. 

Suddenly, you didn’t feel so down anymore.  

[missaudreyhorney]

Imagine seeing David Harbour at a frozen yogurt shop

I was scrolling through Instagram this morning and saw this picture. The thing that struck me most about it was this quality of him looking like a regular handsome guy that you could ostensibly run into anywhere. That quality of his is a lot of what appeals to me about him, the idea that he’s just a “sexy normal dude” as Milla Jovovich put it. 

Quickly I started to imagine a scenario in which shy!Reader happens to run into him and how I think that would play out. It was really helpful to use this picture as a prompt for my writing since Ive been feeling stuck with my other projects over the past couple of days. I know real person fiction is often frowned upon but this is more of a silly writing exercise than anything else. Please enjoy! (T for language, multiple uses of “Daddy”, 1.6k words)

It has been a long, stressful week for you and it’s looking like next week won’t be any different. All you want on this Sunday afternoon is some frozen yogurt. Nothing else. You don’t even ask any of your friends to go with you, you just get in your car and drive to the nearest place that comes up on GPS.

The first thing you see upon walking into the place is a cute dad standing at the counter, paying for his order. He’s wearing a dark purple t-shirt, black jeans, and a pair of sunglasses on top of his head. He’s actually more than cute, he’s really hot. You can’t help but stare at his muscular forearms and huge hands as you get in line. The top of his yogurt cup is covered in whipped cream and he has a tiny dollop of it on his left hand. Your mind goes straight into the gutter at the sight of it.

When he moves to sit down at one of the tables, you realize that there are no kids with him, just two other adults. He’s not actually a dad, at least not from what you can tell. He just looks like a dad and gives off that authoritative energy that only sexy older men possess. You didn’t see a wedding ring when you were staring at his hands so hopefully he’s single. Hopefully, as if you’d ever have the nerve to approach this man and ask him out on a date.

When it’s your turn to order, you get strawberry shortcake, a safe choice since you’ve never been here before. As the cashier tells you your total, you hear the man’s booming voice behind you. He’s not trying to be loud, he’s just a big guy who speaks with a lot of passion and enthusiasm. The voice almost sounds familiar to you. Almost like someone you know but you don’t know anyone this handsome in real life. Digging out a couple of coins from your wallet, it dawns on you where you’ve heard his voice before.

Stranger Things. On Netflix. That’s not just any random hot guy that you were staring at, that’s David fucking Harbour! Your entire body freezes in place and your mind goes blank. The one solitary thought in your head is the sound of his voice. His deep, sexy voice. One that has the power both to soothe and to provoke. You close your eyes and listen to him, almost getting lost in a trance. The cashier repeats your total back to you and your eyes shoot open again. “Oh, I’m sorry,” you say as you hand them your money then turn around to find somewhere to sit.

Your eyes dart around the room, looking for empty tables. There’s plenty available but only one that’s close enough to him without being too obvious. From this vantage point, you should be able to look at him without him noticing too much that you’re fully staring. Taking a deep breath, you set your cup down on the table, pull the chair out, and sit down. Finally, you look at him again, trying to extinguish that lingering doubt that it’s really him and your thirsty brain isn’t just playing tricks on you. His blue eyes, his beard, his dimples, and the teensy little mole on the back of his right hand all confirm your suspicion. It is him! There’s absolutely no denying it now.

No wonder you felt so short when you walked past him, the man is 6’3” for christsake. You know that from Googling him before, as you’ve done so multiple times. It’s been a while since you’ve watched Strangers Things, but every time you do, you catch yourself having a crush on Chief Jim Hopper. How could you not? He is the epitome of a Hot Dad, a total DILF. You've even fantasized about calling him Daddy before, and here he is, in the flesh, eating frozen yogurt and drinking his coffee just a few feet away from you. The idea of asking him out seems infinitely more impossible now than it did when you thought he was just an average, albeit gorgeous guy.

It isn’t until now that you regret not inviting anyone to come here with you because you already know that none of your friends are going to believe it when you tell them that you saw David Harbour in person. They’re going to say that it was just wishful thinking and probably tease you about liking him so much, about all the Hopper fanfiction you’ve read. Oh gosh, the fanfiction. The thoughts you’ve had about the character that this man plays are absolutely filthy. If you’re being completely honest with yourself, those thoughts were never restricted solely to his character. You’ve had just as many, if not more, wild fantasies about the man himself. You blush at all the times you’ve said that you wouldn’t be able to control yourself if you ever met him.

This isn’t technically meeting him though. This is accidentally running into him somewhere and wrestling with yourself about what to do next. The way he talks and the way he smiles seems so warm and friendly. Surely he wouldn’t mind you coming over to his table for a brief moment just to say hi, maybe get an autograph, maybe a hug if you’re feeling extra bold. He probably wouldn’t mind, you’re not sure if you’d be able to deal with it. What if you go to speak to him and no words come out? What if he does hug you and as you feel his strong arms wrapped around you, you get lost in the moment and accidentally call him Daddy? That would be absolutely humiliating and you'd never be able to forget it.

For now, you just watch him, almost like it’s a scene from the show. Both of you eat your frozen yogurt, but you’re so enraptured by him that you’re not really paying attention to the taste or the temperature. All your attention is on him, the way he opens his mouth slightly, sticking his tongue out a bit to meet the spoon as it touches his lips. Oh, how you wish you were that spoon, that he might touch you with his tongue. After what feels like either a second or an hour, but is probably only ten minutes, he gazes to the side and his eyes meet yours. You let out a soft gasp and immediately look down at your table, the beauty and intensity of his dark blue eyes just too much for you to handle. Your cheeks burn with embarrassment at the prospect of him catching you staring at him. When you look back up, your hands trembling just a little bit, he’s no longer looking at you, but he has the most amazing smile on his face.

Aside from the spoon, you feel an additional inkling of jealousy towards the people he’s with. They all seem to be close friends, based on how they’re interacting with each other. He’s so engaging in the way that he speaks with them, the way that he listens so intently. Multiple times, he has both of them laughing. Sometimes it’s more of an inside joke that you don’t understand, and sometimes it's something that makes you want to laugh as well, although you hold back since you’re not supposed to be eavesdropping. Even if you didn’t want to listen to his conversation, it would be hard not to. He has such a big presence, it practically fills up the entire room. If your eyes were able to unglue from him and look around, you’re certain that you wouldn’t be the only one that’s preoccupied with him.

After glancing down at your cup to check how much frozen yogurt is left, your eyes go back to him and see that he and the people he came with are getting up to leave. There’s a weight in your chest at the thought of him going without you having exchanged a single word. Not only that, but you won’t even be able to look at him anymore. Once they’re all standing, a woman comes up to him and asks for a picture. He could not possibly be any more kind and gracious to her. He gives such a cute little smirk as he poses for the picture and chats with her a bit before she sits back down. It’s one of the most adorable things you’ve ever seen.

Now is your chance! Now you have to say something to him! You already know he’s going to be sweet to you if you approach him but it’s not his reaction that you’re worried about, it’s yours. If you talk to him and accidentally say something stupid, he’s not going to mind at all but you will. You’ll think about it every single day. As he walks from his table to the front door, he profusely thanks the people working behind the counter and you feel like your heart is going to burst because of how nice he is. He nears the exit and it’s literally now or never as you have absolutely no idea when you might ever see him again.

There’s so much you want to say, so much you need to say. All these pining, appreciative thoughts race through your head, wanting to jump out of your mouth. Each of them are quieted when he looks at you. Not in your general vicinity, but directly at you. He gives you another amazing smile that makes you completely melt inside. “Bye,” he says to you casually. “Bye,” you respond wistfully, a swarm of butterflies in your stomach. The smile stays on his face as he leaves and puts his sunglasses back on. Your heart is beating a mile a minute while you watch him walk away. You will think about this every single day, not because you made a fool of yourself but because David Harbour noticed you.

[melindacoulson4]

By her side

AOS started with the death of a hero. The Tahiti project was created to bring back a fallen hero. And so the cycle continues....only this time it isn't Phil Coulson.   Daisysous fic. Post-finale.

THIS IS WILD. PREPARE FOR FEELS. 

She jerked awake. Her eyes automatically looking to her right for the man in the chair. He was there, watching her closely. It took him a minute to react. He froze sitting up quickly, mouth falling open. "Hey. Hey. You're awake." He stood up and moved to her side quickly.  

There was a beeping. Her body hurt like someone had thrown her off the side of a building. At first glance, she saw nothing but white. White walls. White blanket covering her body. White bandages over her arms. Several things ran through her head at once. Miles was always telling her that she needed to cool it with her speed. That her van would turn into an accordion against any vehicle with substance. A car accident that had to be how she'd wound up in here. And this guy at her side was some nice citizen. A witness that had come to make sure she'd be alright.  

He completely surprised her when he grabbed a hold of her hand. "Skye," he whispered.  

He knew her name. "Huh?" She said. The way her voice sounded startled her. It had come out scratchy and deep, leaving the inside of her throat aching.

"Are you okay?" He looked down at her full of concern.  

No. Most definitely not okay.  

She tried sitting up. And that brought a spike of pain that went rolling down her spine but she continued to try anyway.  

"Hey. Hey. Hey," he protested. "Take it easy," he said, laying a gentle hand on her shoulder. "What is it? What hurts?" He asked, slowly transitioning to a seated position at the edge of her bed.  

The overwhelming sense of unknown threw her into a panic. "Everything. I. I. I..." She stuttered. "What's happening?" Against her will, her eyes watered. She didn't want to appear weak or fragile but it was kind of hard not to in this situation. It couldn't be helped.  

"You were in an accident," he told her, rubbing his thumb against the top of her hand. He was gentle in the way he touched her.  

An accident. That was acceptable, but the thing that scared her most. That had her palms sweating under the knit white blanket and her breathing picking up was that the last thing she remembered was white sand. Had she nearly drowned? Or worse, attacked by some stranger?

"Breathe. Just breathe. D- Skye. Look at me." It was a request, not an order. "Breathe with me, okay?"

Eyes swinging back to him, she nodded. His presence was calming. She blew a breath out. Her heart continued hammering away.  

"Slow...in and out," he coached softly.  

His chest rose and fell rhythmically. She did her best to mimic it. "Okay. Okay," she whispered. Feeling rational thought return. Things were okay. For one, she was alive and two, this man was here. As she knew he would be....somehow.  

Sensing her need for space again, he backed up slightly, but didn't go far. He stayed an arm's length away.  

Her mouth was so dry. Like someone had shoveled a truckload of sand into it while she slept. "Water," she requested.  

A styrofoam cup with a bendy straw appeared in front of her. She swallowed it down greedily, finishing it in three long gulps. His eyes never wavered from her face as he held the cup in place for her. When she found her breath, she asked, "Not to be rude or anything but...who are you?"

He looked down, swallowing hard. "James." It was not what she expected him to say. "You like calling me Jim though." He said, attempting to smile, but it failed to reach his eyes.  

"Jim," she tested. It felt weird, but she nodded anyway, wanting to make him feel better as he just did with her. His clothes were rumpled. Dark circles seemed engrained on his face like he hadn't slept in weeks. Several stacks of newspapers sat on the window ledge. He'd been sitting by her bedside for a while then. And it looked like he'd been in the same accident as her. A long, odd looking bruise lined his jaw. Several small cuts were sprinkled over his face. There was a black sling around his neck, cradling his entire right arm.  

Her eyes dipped to the hand he had near hers on the bed. No ring. So they weren't married. Given the hand holding and lack of ring there were only a few options. "Okay. Jim. Um. What are you to me?"  

She expected pain to cross his face or more realistically anger. Forgetting him entirely wasn't exactly a nice thank you for him sitting by her bedside. But he remained straight-faced, almost stony. "Your boyfriend," he said.  

Should she apologize? Hey Jim, you seem like a swell guy, but I have no memory of our time together at all. "I can't remember anything," she whispered, sounding small.  

He nodded. "That's okay," he answered, calm and collected. Not anything like his world had just been flipped upside-down, which lead her to suspect that he'd anticipated this.  

There was a cot pushed against the far wall. She had no roommate. A blanket was thrown over the back of his chair. A tower of books were stacked off to the side. She read the spine of the thickest one. "A concise history of the 20th century". He'd been bored enough to read something like that. Just how much time had passed? Long enough to accumulate these things to keep himself occupied. She was afraid to know the answer, so instead she asked, "What happened to us?"

He looked her right in the eye. "Helicopter crash."

That did not sound right at all. "A what?" She blurted, doubt clouding her mind.  

"There was a helicopter crash. We were...in Tahiti." He shook his head as if recalling something painful. "It completely shattered your left shoulder blade. You had a concussion. Ten broken ribs..." He trailed off.  

Come to think of it she did feel different somehow. Like she'd been torn apart and then put back together again, piece by piece. She expected some other explanation. Maybe it was the disorientation of the memory loss. Either way it was a deeply odd feeling to have.  

"Believe it or not you were lucky." His face shadowed over like he'd seen too much. Witnessed too much. "We...were lucky," he amended.  

And others not so much, her brain finished for him. "People died?"

"Yea." A haunted look crossed his face.  

It made her uncomfortable, so she didn't look at his face. He caught her staring at the rest of his body. "I have a broken arm, but it's healed well. It was in a...cast. But now I have this." He gestured to the sling.  

The door opened. A young woman walked in, shuffling papers and watching Jim. The doctor, Skye suspected. The woman smiled at Jim like they were on friendly terms, familiar with each other. "Ma-

"She's awake," he said, interrupting her.  

The doctor turned to her, shocked to her core. "You're awake," she repeated Jim, almost in disbelief.  

"I am," Skye confirmed, then felt stupid.  

"How long have I been here exactly?" She asked, changing the subject.  

The doctor stood in place, still staring at her, stunned that she was even speaking. Skye had never seen a doctor so thrown by a patient waking up.

"A while," Jim answered. His eyes flickered away.

That scared her.  

He seemed to detect her fear because he reached out and touched her fingers. "It was bad. I thought you were gone."

"You're a fighter," the doctor said. Skye felt that she could trust her. There was a genuineness about her. A face that you'd want to tell anything to.  

"Not literally though. I work with computers for a living," Skye said almost on automatic. The words felt true though. Keyboards and screens. She remembered that. "Right?" She looked to Jim for confirmation.  

There was a long pause. Jim seemed almost mournful for a moment, then he smiled. "Yea. Don't ask me the details though. I don't understand the first thing about those things."  

Both he and the doctor laughed, but it failed to truly reach either of their eyes. They both seemed worn down. There were more lines on Jim's face than she remembered ever being there.  

"I'm feeling...." Skye trailed off, thinking about what to say. Claustrophobic. Locked up. Trapped in a bubble. "Could I maybe take a walk?" She asked the doctor hesitantly. She wasn't really in great shape, but she needed to move.  

When no answer came, her eyes flickered to the doctor. She seemed trapped in some sort of trance, staring down at the papers in her arms.  

"Doctor?"

The woman blinked, coming back from where her mind had been. "Sorry. What did you say?"

"A walk. Do you think I could take one?"

The doctor opened her mouth, denial clearly on her tongue.  

"Please," Skye added quickly. "Please," she begged, meeting the doctors eyes. She seemed like a good person. Human and able to work with a patient.  

The doctor swallowed past a lump in her throat. "That can be arranged for you," she stated quietly.  

It wasn't until she and Jim made it into the hall that Skye realized she never caught the doctor's name. The woman wore no nametag nor white lab coat. But it had been obvious who she was by her caring demeanor. As she'd fiddled with the machines and disconnected the IVs, Skye felt a healing energy around the room. She wanted to ask the doctor where she was from. The accent was British and could hardly be missed, but the doctor had grown skittish towards the end. Like something was deeply upsetting. Jim had stepped in to help her stand from the bed. The doctor had made herself scarce after that.  

The going was slow. She kept her eyes primarily on her feet. One foot in front of the other. She couldn't ever remember having to use crutches before. There had been the time in middle school when she'd fallen over a soccer ball. On the landing there had been a distinct crack from her leg. She didn't dare say anything to her foster parents. All they needed was one excuse to be rid of her. That's how they all were, so she'd walked with a pretty profound limp for a while. And that marked the permanent end of her sports career.  

During her time in the bed, her muscles had grown weak. Her body itself seemed to be in relatively okay shape for a woman who'd had so many injuries. As she lifted the crutches, she wobbled a bit.

"Woah. I've got ya," Jim said with a supportive hand at her back.  

She believed him. She knew it was true down to her core. He would always be there to pick her up. Or not let her fall in the first place.  

It was quiet out here. So much so that her crutches seemed a thousand times louder than they truly were. When she tapped them on the tile, the noise seemed to echo all around them. She had the suspicion that this hospital was really small. There was barely any activity around. No nurses hustling around. No other patients. Maybe she'd seen too many movies. At this point she was kind of desperate just to see different people around. Just when she was about to ask Jim where they even were in terms of a city, she saw actual people.  

They passed a small waiting room. It was an open area filled with chairs and tables. She saw a middle aged-man and woman sitting side-by-side. Clearly a couple by the way they leaned on one another. The man wore a white checkered shirt that was tucked into a pair of khakis. Dark rimmed glasses rested on the tip of his nose. He had a book in hand, halfway finished by the looks of it. The woman wore a light purple sweater and a necklace. Her dark hair was pinned back. Her arm was threaded in the man's. They looked like old sweethearts.  

The woman caught Skye looking. They locked eyes and Skye felt her chest tighten. The woman smiled politely, but it was a facade. Putting on a brave face, Skye thought. There was a deep sadness to her. She clutched at her husband's hand. They both appeared tired and worn down, like they'd received bad news or were waiting on news of a close family member. At least they had each other. She hoped things would work out for them.  

One of her crutches caught on the tile floor. She found that she could no longer lift it. Her breathing had kicked up. Heart beating erratically. Sweat had broken out under her arms. She could scarcely hold onto the rubber grip attached to the crutches. She halted in place, feeling like she couldn't move forward. There was something deeply wrong...but her mind blanked.  

"You okay?" Jim asked from her side, but he sounded far away. So far away.  

The world was spinning fast, intending on hurling her off somewhere that she didn't know. She'd never felt so lost before. Her eyes squeezed shut as she tried to fight it all off. Parents. The word had entered her mind from nowhere and spread out like wildfire. Even though she was an adult she wished she knew who they were. It hardly mattered at the moment. She couldn't understand why this was happening now.  

"Skye, can you hear me?"

Jim. Jim was still here. And just like that everything was okay. When she opened her eyes the world had grown still once more. Normal. Things were normal. He was at her side and he wasn't going anywhere.  

"What just happened?" Jim questioned, clearly distraught.

She didn't want to worry him. She wanted to see him happy. A smile on his face, that was something she could remember. When he chuckled he looked so damn endearing and genuine. So she put on a brave face. "Just out of breath for a sec," she told him, brushing her panic away.  

"Maybe we should go back." His warm hand settled against her shoulders.  

Nothing seemed real in here. Like she might be dreaming. She wanted to see birds flying through the air, feel wind on her cheeks, and hear the sound of traffic. What she didn't want was to keeping breathing stale, recirculated hospital air. "No way I want some fresh air. Just needed a breather is all. I'm good now. Promise," she said, determined to finish this.  

So they continued on.  

Something flew across the floor, bounced off the toe of her shoe, and came to a halt about a foot away. A green dot. It was tiny, not even the size of a penny. The word pebble popped into her mind, but it wasn't right. That was a stupid thing to think. Pebbles weren't lime green. It was a piece of candy. She stepped over it easily.

The proof came a few feet later. A man had a red baggie in his hand. He was busy tossing skittles and catching them in his mouth. And from the looks of him, he was terrible at it. But luck seemed to be on his side, most of the candies had wound up in his lap so he could try again. Best two out of ten, she thought.

There were several candy and chocolate wrappers on the empty next to him. She counted at least three lemon head baggies. Clearly he had a sweet tooth. He upended the Skittle bag into his palm. It was red. He looked about ready to prepare for the next toss, but stopped short. Wondering what the hold up was, her eyes ran up to his face. She was almost taken aback by the way he was staring at her. His eyes were blown wide, like a deer caught in headlights. She'd always heard the expression and had used it herself sometimes, but now she was seeing it in its truest form. If a giant bulky alien popped up and punched him in the face, she didn't think he could look anymore shocked than he did right now.  

The woman next to him seemed to notice his rude behavior, turned and elbowed him in the gut. He flinched, dropping that last Skittle. His head swung towards the woman. "Ow!" He complained, outraged.  

"Pendejo," the woman said.  

The two began bickering back and forth like siblings. Clearly they had a familiarity with each other. Neither one looked at her again.  

Completely thrown by the exchange, Skye's brows furrowed. Both of them were purposefully not looking at her. A terrible thought crossed her mind. Had she been disfigured? A face transplant. Or skin graft. Helicopters could explode and Jim never gave her the details. All the terrible ways someone could be hurt in a crash ran through her mind. "Is something wrong with my face?"

"No," Jim said quickly.  

"Don't lie to me," she warned.  

"I would never lie to you about something like that," he said seriously. "Besides a few gnarly scratches and some bruises your face is perfect."

Perfect. Where did she find a man this nice? She didn't think she'd ever heard someone call her face perfect. Caring. Supportive. Nice. Attractive. She patted her past self on the back for choosing him.  

A large guy, built like Dwayne "the rock" Johnson coming down the hall.  

"Holy God. That guy is big," she murmured.  

He was stacked with muscles, but slim. He had a cardboard carrier in each hand. Both completely full. There were four coffees in each carrier, each of varying sizes. One was even a frappuccino.  

"How many coffees does one guy need?" She whispered, trying not to stare.  

"When you're that big, I guess eight," Jim responded.  

She chuckled. They kept moving and when they passed the coffee man he actually met her eye without reacting like she looked like a leper. He nodded politely as he passed. She smiled and did the same.  

There were pictures all along the walls of different landscapes. She stared at them and wondered where her home was. She had no idea. The only thing she knew was that Jim was in her life. That felt right.  

To fill the silence, she asked, "So what were we doing in Tahiti anyway?"

"Taking a long deserved vacation. Which is what we're going to continue doing until you're all healed," he said.  

A vacation from what? She tried to picture herself living with Jim. Maybe having dinner ready for him just as he set foot in the house after a long days work. She couldn't picture it. She wanted to know what he did for a living. Then she realized that she didn't even know what her own job was. So many questions and not enough answers. She didn't want to hurt him, but she could barely remember anything. The last thing she remembered was the pain. She'd fought so hard to live. Several questions bounced around her head about the accident. She wanted to know more, but thought back to his reaction in her room and decided she could wait. She didn't want to upset him.  

They made it outside without even having to use an elevator. Apparently her room was on the first floor, the only floor. Weird hospital. This must be a really small town or some private place for rich people.  

Jim lead her over to a bench and helped her sit. The black metal had a soothing warmth to it from soaking up all the sunshine. It was a welcomed difference from inside the hospital. The sun felt nice on her arms. Most of her arm was bandaged up, but the skin that she could see was pale. So she held out both arms as best she could, enjoying the heat that soaked into her.  

Jim's hand rested on her thigh, barely there so as not to hurt her. But enough so she could feel his presence. Because of him she felt warm inside too.  

She didn't know how much time had passed, but the next time she opened her eyes a little girl had appeared. Merely a few feet in front of her stood a small girl, no more than five. She had blonde hair that was almost white and was wearing the biggest smile on her face that Skye had ever seen.  

"Hi there, cutie," Skye said, smiling back. The little girl's happiness was infectious.  

She felt Jim sit up straighter.  

"No no no no." A man came over in a rush and completely out of breath. "Over here, sweetie," he said, directing the little girl away.  

He had an accent. Just like that doctor. What were the odds of that? Small odds. Waking up from a coma? Also small odds. Maybe the universe was trying to tell her something. She should go buy a lottery ticket.  

The girl proved to be a stubborn one. She plopped down right in front of their feet, unwilling to budge. The man scooped her up. "I'm so sorry," he apologized to her and Jim, barely sparing them a glance.  

"Don't be," she said, smiling at how sweet the girl was.  

No response came from the man. In a rush of nervous energy, he booked it away from them. Almost as if he couldn't get away fast enough. Like he thought they had some disease. Odd.  

A heartbroken cry echoed.  

Skye looked to their right. The little girl had her arms stretched out, reaching back. Her face was very displeased. That was when Skye saw a small plastic monkey toy discarded on the sidewalk.  

The man seemed to notice too. Grudgingly, he backtracked his steps.  

"What's her name?" Skye called out to him, desperate for conversation or something else she couldn't figure out.  

The man looked at her, startled. "Uh um," he fumbled over his words. He had a young looking face, but the beard and mustache combo mad him more distinguished. Avoiding her eyes, he grabbed the toy, then paused like the ground had suddenly cracked apart and was about to suck him in. After a long pause he finally spoke. "Dandelion....Dandy for short." Without waiting for her response, he spun around and took off like a fire had been lit under his ass.  

Weirdo...

People these days were weird. Not only his reactions, but that name....dandelion. What happened to boring, normal names like.... Melinda or something? "Remind me that when we have kids not to name any daughter we have after a flower," she said to Jim. He stayed quiet and her brain caught up to what she'd said. She shut her eyes in exasperation. Idiot.

"I'm sorry. Was that too soon? I actually have no idea how long we've been dating."  

"Dating," he said as if the word were foreign to him.  

Oh god, he wasn't one of those kind, was he?  Afraid of any commitment. Worry settled in the pit of her stomach. "That's what we're doing, right?" She asked, confused now.  

He leaned towards her, quickly grabbing her hand and meeting her eyes. "Yea....yea...of course...I just....I like calling it....going steady," he said almost nervously.  

That made her laugh. "What are you? Ninety years old?"

He chuckled and there was that happiness from him that she loved to see.  

She turned, searching for the little girl again, but she and her father were long gone. "That was weird, right? That guy. Acting like we were going to steal his kid or something..." She looked at Jim for confirmation that it wasn't just her that thought so.  

He nodded. "It was weird. Maybe he's just paranoid."

"Speaking of weird. In that hospital room, when I first woke up...even before I opened my eyes, I just knew that you would be there. Like I had this sixth sense of you sitting by my bedside or something," she told him.  

"Maybe you heard me talking to you," she said and she could feel the rumbling in his chest as he spoke. "Telling you I needed you to come back to me." He took her hand, threading their fingers together.  

"Maybe." She smiled. It felt good to just sit and not have any commitments. To not have to rush to respond to something. To what? She didn't know, but either way she was going to take advantage of this.  

She stared up at the sky, still lost in thought of the image of him asleep in a chair. In her mind he was wearing blue and he looked damn good.  

"Someone's getting tired," he observed.  

"Sorry. Yea, I think I am." There was a pounding going on in her head that she didn't like.  

"Let's go back in. I don't want you pushing yourself like you always do," he said.

"Okay," she agreed. Anything to make them get back to her bed faster. This whole thing really had tired her out.  

Everything was going to be okay though. She felt safe. She felt at home. Jim was with her.  

//end//

[theokotrain]

Vestige - Interlude: The Party

Wattpad Version

As the night fills the sky

All my fears are dissipating

'Cause I feel reassured

That I might make it through

And if all my luck should burn

Then I guess it burned for you

---

April 13th, 2012

I was sitting on my bed, back against the bed frame with my knees raised in front of me, holding up my laptop. I had been spending the last few hours writing an essay for my English class, specifically answering the topic question my teacher had given everybody: "How do our past experiences influence our decisions?". The question was simple enough, it's a pretty universally recognized idea that stuff that happens to us has an effect on our decision making. I mean, that's what it means to grow, right? You gain more knowledge as you live through life and form new memories, and that helps you make more informed decisions in the future.

I've never really been too good at writing anything analytical, especially non-fiction. Essays and research papers that required informed arguments that helped to prove your point? Those were an entirely unknown game to me, one which I had never managed to breeze through. Of course, we were supposed to use some of the books we've read this year as evidence for our arguments, so that at least made it a bit easier, even if most of the books were ones from nearly five decades ago and definitely out of touch at this point. The sound of my laptop's keys clicking as I typed away were the only sounds I could pick up in the room. I had my earphones in for a bit, but those always hurt my ears after a while, so I had taken them out.

Looking at the time in the corner of my laptop screen, it was 4:43 PM. I started writing as soon as I got home from class, so I've only been going for about an hour. Unfortunately, this essay is a non-insignificant amount of my course grade, so I needed to finish this as soon as possible.

God, it's a Friday! I could be out doing something actually fun with Shae and the other guys. Isn't that the whole point of high school? That's what it always seemed like in movies, at least, but I guess I've been a victim of false advertising.

After a bit more time passes, the sound of my phone ringing from my desk brings me out of my writing trance. I sigh, setting my laptop next to me on the bed, not wanting to get out of bed, but eventually forcing myself into maneuvering over to the desk, I grab the phone and flip it open, looking to see the Caller ID.

Shaela.

I instantly accept the call, it's almost second nature at this point. She calls me at least once a day so she can tell me about whatever person is pissing her off that day, or whatever drama she's heard from her other friends. I was never really one for gossip, or whatever, but I did appreciate talking to her.

I put the phone up to my ear, "What's up?" I say, a tinge of fatigue in my voice.

"Hey! Just warning you that I'm like five minutes from your place and you don't have a say in the matter." She replied bluntly. I can hear the sound of cars driving by on the other side of the phone, so she's obviously outside, confirming her words.

I take a deep breath before speaking, "...Why?" I said with exasperated sarcasm.

"Because! I have something to tell you, and if I say it over the phone then I seriously doubt it'll work out in the way I'm hoping it does."

"That clears up nothing, actually, and now I regret picking up."

"Even if you didn't answer, that doesn't stop your parents from letting their son's lovely goody-two-shoes of a friend stop by for a visit!" She exclaimed, a mischievous tone subtly layered in her voice.

She's not wrong.

"Wow, you make this sound like you're sneaking into a high-security building or something." I say, utterly confused at her motives. "Obviously you can come over, but I'm not exactly filled with confidence at whatever you're planning."

"Like I said, I can't tell you yet, but it's gonna be awesome!" She said. There was an unusual perkiness to her that made itself pretty clear over the phone.

Before I can say anything, I'm met with the dial tone, signalling that she had hung up. The only thing I can do at this point is wait for her to get here, I guess. She always lets herself in when she comes over, so I don't make the effort to meet her downstairs. A sudden ping sound fills the quiet room, seeming to come from my laptop. I get back into bed, looking to see where the notification came from.

It's a message from Tyler.

He's definitely the newest member of our little group, if even that. I'm the only person in the group that he's actually friends with so far, despite my efforts to bring him along on any plans we all make. I only met the Grey Wolf back in February, at the beginning of the second semester, in the school's photography class. Nobody I knew signed up for it, and due to our prestigious high school's advanced budget for technology, we were forced to be paired up for shared computer use in the Photography Room. I suppose Tyler was also fortunate enough to not know anybody in the class, as we ended up being paired together by the teacher. He was definitely someone I could only describe as uninterested, as the first week or two I spent with him in that class consisted of him either giving me one word answers or answering in the most blunt, bored tone he could manage. Though, it seemed that it took a bit of persistence on my part to push him to be more open, and since then he's grown to be a pretty great friend.

Tyler: u goin to that party tonight ive been hearin about?

Party? I wasn't made aware of anything like that, at least... not yet. Something in the back of my brain was telling me that Shae had ulterior motives about coming to my place so suddenly, but I'm still hoping that I'm wrong. I hate parties.

Jake: party? havent heard anything, are u going?

Tyler: thinkin about it

think its gonna be over at chris's place, guess his parents r gone for the weekend or somethin

Jake: chrisssss? ughh that guy is such an asshole

Tyler: yeah u dont havee to go, but itd prob be more fun to have someone u actually know there

The way he worded that was directed at me, but I could tell he didn't want to go on his own.

Jake: i guess ill think about it

Tyler: sickk, call me if u make up ur mind

Before I can type my farewells over IM, Shaela energetically bursts through the door.

"Jesus! You scared the shit outta me, don't you knock?" I said, mildly exasperated.

"Oh come on, I literally called you a few minutes ago, you had plenty of time to not make a situation where it'd be a bad idea for me to barge in," She replies, laughing, before setting her bag on the ground and dramatically falling into my bed. "Today was garbage."

"What happened?"

"Ugh, Claire decided to just not show up, I guess, on the day we're supposed to present that stupid History project? And, obviously, she didn't give me her part of the project or anything, so I had tell Mr Thomas about the situation, which was fucking embarrassing." She paused for a moment, taking a deep breath. "Luckily, he said he wouldn't reduce my grade for handing it in late, since I actually had my part finished. God, what a bitch- I must've called her like thirty times before class to get her to email me her part, and every time it went straight to voicemail - and she told me last night that she'd have it ready for today!"

"Have you gotten a hold of her yet?" I asked, closing my laptop and setting it beside me.

Shae turns her head to me, shaking her head, "Nope, she's been ghosting me all day."

"Sounds like typical Claire."

"Yeah, I shouldn't have partnered with her, but apparently I can't say no to anyone, so..." I chuckle lightly in response. "Anyways! I didn't just come here to complain to you!" She says, sitting up on the bed, now facing towards me.

"Right... So what was so important that you just had to tell me in person?" I say, sarcastically.

"Like I said, if I asked you over the phone you would've definitely said no, and my ability to pressure you into doing things isn't as effective unless it's in person!" She responded.

I subtly rolled my eyes, but it's clear she noticed from the stare-down she gave me, "Okay, so what is it?"

"Soooooo..." She says, trying to find the rest of the words, "There's a party."

Wow.

"Wh- did everybody know about that party except for me?!?" I exclaimed.

Shaela's face quickly turns to an expression of shock, "Who told you?"

"Tyler did, like, not even five minutes ago." I say, bluntly.

"What? How does he know Chris?"

"Friend-of-a-friend, I'm guessing?"

"Hmm..." She hummed, thinking about something, "So, did you tell him you were going?"

"I specifically said I'd think about it, nothing definite." I made it clear in my tone that I wasn't particularly interested.

"Oh, come on, dude! It'll be fun!"

I didn't really have an interest in going, but I know it'd make Shae happy, plus it'd be nice to hang out with Tyler again even if we've only known each other for a couple months.

"...Fine. But, if Chris or any of his buddies start shit, I'm leaving."

"Awesome!"

"Lemme just call Tyler and let him know," I said as I grabbed my phone and flipped it open, finding Tyler in my contact list and dialling.

"You gonna bring him with-" The phone rings a few times before he picks up and I extend my hand out towards Shae in a shushing motion. She rolls her eyes, smirking.

"Hey? So are ya gonna go?" He said eagerly.

"Well, Shae showed up at my door literally right after you messaged me, asking the same thing!" I exclaimed in a fake-preppy voice. "So, I guess I have no choice since she'll probably just drag me there if I say no," I joked. She nods her head toward me in response.

"Oh, is she going too?" He inquired.

"Yeah, I guess so! Your place is kinda on the way to Chris', so we could probably meet you at your place and go from there."

"Yeah! Sounds good!" He quickly responded.

I laughed, "Okay, we'll call you when we get there?"

"Sure thing!"

We exchanged our farewells, and hung up. The party wasn't for at least another hour or two, so Shae and I had some time to burn, of which I was entirely out of ideas. I figured I could at least spend this time actually being productive, so I grabbed my laptop and continued on writing my English essay as Shae resumed her previous conversation topic of stuff at school that was pissing her off. It was pretty entertaining, to be fair. She was telling me about how Chris had gotten in a fight with this other kid in our grade yesterday after class, which I wasn't lucky enough to witness, but it was obviously all anyone would talk about for basically the entire day today so word spread around fast. The part I hadn't heard about was that both Chris and the other guy, Nathan, got suspended for a week because of it. Chris was generally an asshole to everybody, including myself, so I didn't feel too bad about that. Although, I didn't know Nathan all that well. Other than having a few classes together, I don't think I've ever held an actual conversation with the guy. I think it was safe to assume that Chris was the one who started it, and Shae seemed to agree with me, even though she hadn't seen the fight either.

"But, apparently Nathan's gonna show up tonight!" She exclaimed coyly.

"...Remind me again why you want me to go to this specific party?"

"You'll have a great time! It's not like we'll be involved in the drama anyway so think of it more as entertainment!"

"I think you and I have different definitions of the word 'entertainment'," I joked.

"I'm sure you can go run off somewhere with Tyler if you're not having fun," She said, her tone reminding me of my mom.

"Oh yeah? What about you?"

"I can't just leave Alex at a party with Chris, those two start shit between each other so much and I'd rather not deal with the aftermath of that today."

"I'm guessing it's safe to assume that Elliot's going too, then?"

"He's not big on parties, but he'll usually go if everyone else is, unlike somebody," She says, gesturing towards me.

"Good one," I reply, unmoving as I keep typing away at my assignment.

"Well, we should probably leave soon since we're stopping at Tyler's place on the way.

I saved the document I had been working on, closing my laptop. "Sounds good to me!"

---

"I can't believe you actually agreed to go." Tyler joked as we walked towards the road from his house.

"Yeah, me either." I replied. I definitely didn't put in any effort in dressing up for the party, opting for a snug space-themed graphic tee, along with black jeans and a white zip-up hoodie. Shae and Tyler both stand on opposite sides of me as we walk down the sidewalk.

"Luckily I learned the subtle techniques in convincing you to do things against your better judgement, so now you get to have fun for once!" Shae exclaimed.

"It's not my fault that going to a party is literally the last thing on earth I'd do for fun in any normal situation." I retorted, putting my hands in the pockets of my jacket.

"Oh yeah? And what do you consider a 'normal situation'?" Shae asks.

"Any situation where you guys aren't the ones trying to get me to go! I'm only doing this for you two, y'know." I said, looking over at both of them.

"What about Elliot and Alex?" Tyler chimed in.

"They aren't the ones asking me to go to this party." I sarcastically remarked, trying to keep the conversation light-hearted. "Speaking of the party- this is Chris we're talking about, there's gonna be beer, right?"

"Uh, duh?" Shae replied.

"Yeah, that's a definite no for me, I'm already enough of a disappointment to my parents,"

"No one's making you drink, Jake. At least you'd be safe if some old hag called the cops about the noise." Shae said.

"I think at that point we're guilty by association, so we'd just make a run for it if that happens," Tyler joked.

"Dude, the chance of me outrunning a police officer successfully is about as likely as me not wanting to punch Chris tonight."

"And the chance of you winning that fight is just as low!" Shae retorted, Tyler laughing in response.

"I specifically said 'want' because of that very reason!"

"Wow, I'd pay money to see you fight that guy." Tyler said, nudging his elbow into my side.

It isn't a secret that I'm not exactly athletic. I mean, I'm definitely not weak, but fighting basically any animal of a similar size to mine was not a situation that favoured my victory.

"That sounds more like just getting the shit kicked outta me for your entertainment." I remarked, lightly punching Tyler's shoulder in return.

"Absolutely worth every penny!" Shae exclaimed. Luckily, the place wasn't any more than ten minutes away from Tyler's place, so I didn't have to endure listening to these two talk about me getting beat up for much longer.

We finally make it to Chris' house, and I'm suddenly filled with an impending sense of regret. Obviously, my parents would never in a million years agree to me going to a party like this. As far as they know, I'm just spending the evening hanging out with Shae at Tyler's house. So yeah, this entire night had a lot of potential for disaster.

Shae can clearly see my hesitation, because she grabs my hand, leading me up the walkway, Tyler following closely behind.

"I wonder if Elliot and Alex beat us here?" She says, knocking on the front door.

"I doubt they had anything to do earlier, hell they probably came straight here after school, knowing Alex." I said, laughing.

Our conversation is cut short by the opening door, revealing the familiar black cat.

"Oh, look, the Stephenson kid brought his girlfriend!" Chris exclaimed mockingly, looking back into the house, before peering around my shoulder, "And... Tyler?" He said, inquisitively.

I lean over, blocking Tyler from his line of sight, "Yeah, hey, not dating by the way!" I said. I've known Shae since I first moved to Vestige, around the time I turned five years old, so it wasn't uncommon for rumours to go around that we were dating. I've always thought of her more as a sister, if anything.

"I asked them to come!" Tyler said. That was only partly true, but according to Tyler, they've been 'somewhat-friends' for quite a while now, so saying that would at least mean less mild-harassment from Chris for tonight.

"Oh, uh, okay... come on in! But you're on the hook for any shit they pull, Tyler!" He said, opening the door wider.

---

The party had been going on for a few hours at this point. I could recognize most of the animals here from school, but not enough to actually hold a conversation with any of them, so most of my time here had just been spent with Shae and Tyler. The place hasn't been incredibly crowded luckily, but there were easily about forty others in this part of the house alone. I'm assuming only high school grades were invited, but there were a considerable number of students to meet that requirement. The issue at hand for me, other than how crowded this place is, is that both Shae and Tyler ditched me to go... somewhere? I think Shae saw some of her friends and went somewhere with them, but Tyler was pretty secretive about where he was going, only telling me that he'd be back in a bit. So I've been standing here in this random corner of the house with a drink in hand, trying to make myself look busy and not awkward, which is exactly why I didn't want to go to this party in the first place!

"Jake!" A voice shouted from a ways away.

I turn my head in confusion, revealing Alex, walking towards me from across the room.

"Oh, Alex! Hey! What's up dude!" I finish the last bit of my soda, waving at him. Because this was Chris' party, there was obviously beer too, but I didn't feel like coming home drunk and my parents finding out.

"I didn't think you'd wanna come to something like this! Feeling the regret yet?"

"I like parties! It's the times like these when I'm standing in a corner by myself with nothing to do that I hate, which seems to happen every time I go to a party!" I exclaimed, pausing for a moment. "Okay, maybe I do hate parties- I've had to explain this so many times today I'm about ready to jump into Lake Ambuscade."

' "Wow, sounds like somebody needs to socialize instead of stewing in a corner for the rest of the night!"

"Socialize? Really? I know just about everybody here and just about none of them are worth talking-"

"Hang with me and Elliot, then? Justin set up some racing games in the other room, we were gonna join, but we could use a fourth... You in?" He said, his tone obviously trying to sound coercing.

"God, please, anything to get me out of this corner for the next three hours." I said, Alex returning my words with a laugh.

"Well, come on then! We'll have to hurry if we want to get one of the good controllers!" He exclaimed, motioning to follow him.

As we move through the various cliques, I recognize a few faces here and there, though not enough to actually want to talk to them. There's been music playing since we got here, and I have yet to recognize a single song, they all seem to be some form of drone-y bass-heavy music that I can't say I've heard in any normal situations. I'm doing my best to follow Alex, although he keeps weaving between the other animals faster than I can keep up, resulting in me having to shove past everyone near me in an effort to speed myself up. Luckily, it seems that no one notices me anyway.

When we arrive in the other room, it seems to just be another living room, but decorated with a galore of punk band posters, shelves holding more DVD cases than I would ever care to count, and even a mini-fridge. Maybe Chris is the type to have a 'man cave' or something? Just hearing that phrase almost makes me want to vomit, but there aren't any more accurate words that come to mind. The room isn't massive or anything, but the TV resting upon the wall across the room seems to challenge that idea, looking almost eighty inches in size. Luckily no randoms from the party were in here, sitting about ten feet away from the TV is Elliot, leaning back in a purple bean bag chair that seems almost three times bigger than him, and Justin, the cougar I'd only known slightly through Alex, laying down sideways on the couch directly in front of the gigantic screen.

"Whatttt! You took the bean bag chair? Lameee..." Alex whined.

"You're the one who wanted to go get Jake, you snooze you lose!" Elliot retorted, looking oddly proud of himself.

"Damn, wish I had a room like this at my house..." I mumbled, looking around the room.

"Are we gonna play or what?" Justin said, cutting through the momentary silence.

"Duh!" Alex claimed.

Justin sits up, taking the spot on the couch closest to Elliot. I opt for the leftmost seat, and Alex sits in-between the both of us. Elliot grabs the other three controllers and tosses them over at us, one by one. Luckily, there weren't any garbage third-party controllers, so at least none of us would have to deal with that. I will admit, it did feel kinda weird going to someone's party just to play games away from everybody, but I would be lying if I said I didn't prefer that, even though I rarely play games, if ever.

After Justin turns the console on, he goes through the menus, launching the game. I can't say I recognize the title, but it seems to be a pretty standard racing game. He goes into the custom mode, opting for a four-player split-screen match, choosing 'R1' as the category of cars to race in. As everyone chooses their cars, I scroll through the list, not really knowing what to pick. I've never been good with car stuff, so I pick an 'Aston Martin Lola' just based on the number-rating system the game ranks the cars with.

"You guys ready?" Justin asks.

"Oh yeah, get ready to eat my dust you guys!" Elliot exclaims, challengingly.

"Oddly prideful words for someone about to lose!" Alex replies, laughing.

The countdown begins, as the cameras slowly show the view of each car as it moves to the rear. When it starts, I somehow manage the fuckup of spinning my tires out, leaving me a few seconds behind the others as the car swerves back and forth. I curse under my breath as I try to regain control of the car, and swiftly pick up speed. The track seems like nothing I haven't seen before, a typical professional track, with rows and rows of audience seating to the side. Unfortunately, I'm now in last place. The next few moments of the track are a few quick corners, allowing me the chance to catch up, at least a little.

Unexpectedly, the track turns off of the main road, going into a forested area. The road is considerably more narrow at this point, so it takes a conscious effort to not drive into the trees by the asphalt. It looks like the road stretches on forever, as I still can't make out any upcoming turns. I guess the car I chose for the race had a better top speed than Justin's, as I'm quickly catching up to him, moving into third place. I'm gripping my controller to an uncomfortable degree, but I can't seem to relax the tension as I try to make my way into second place. I don't think I can pick up any more speed in this car, so me moving up is reliant on the road staying straight for just a bit longer. After what feels like a lifetime, the front of my car finally starts making it past Elliot's, then the midsection, and finally, I'm in second. The sound of all four car engines is drowning out any remnants of the video game music, and I feel the sudden urge to curse out whoever turned the TV volume up this high. My eyes are focused entirely on Alex's car as I make my final push into first place. If I were actually driving this fast in the real world, I'd be scared out of my fucking mind. Out of nowhere, Alex, and the others, begins to slow down considerably.

Oh fuck.

It's at that point I notice that there is a sharp right turn rapidly approaching. I've been pushing the top-speed of this car since the beginning of this stretch of road, and now I'm going too quickly to stop in time. What's the button to use the handbrake, again? I figure that the only way for me to not fuck up this race for myself is to try to drift around the corner. Considering I've never played this game before, it's going to prove to be a challenge. But, it's either that, or just ending up in dead-last again.

I hold down the A button, and pull the joystick as far to the right as possible. Suddenly, all I can hear from the game is the loud skidding sounds of my tires against the asphalt. To my surprise, I cut the corner a bit early, now going over the grass. I try to do a bit of directional-corrections and start heading back onto the track. Going over the grass definitely slowed me down a fair bit, but it definitely was a significantly better outcome over just crashing into the wall. And, to my surprise, the corner of my screen reads... first?!?

"How the fuck...?" Alex questions, seemingly in disbelief.

"I wish I could tell you." I replied, eyes wide at whatever the fuck just happened.

The distance I managed to gain on Alex isn't by a whole lot, but there's only about a quarter of the track left before we reach the finish line, so I have a chance at winning this. The track hurriedly changes from the forest as it reenters the main track. The long, straight roads seem to end as the road becomes a slow series of sharp turns, never giving me the opportunity to get back up to speed. It seems like the high top speed was my only advantage, because at every corner we take, I turn my camera around, revealing the other cars inching closer and closer to me.

I can see the finish line on the mini-map, just a few more turns away. I know that I'm not gonna be able to distance myself from Alex and the others at this point, so my only feasible strategy is to keep moving, cutting the corners as fast as I can, and getting to the finish line before they can pass me. Unfortunately, Alex's car seems to be getting too close for comfort now, meaning I might have to take some risks to ensure I can stay in first. As we approach the final turn, leading into the finish line, I realise I'm gonna have to try to drift this corner. I can feel my pointer finger practically cracking the plastic on the controller from the amount of pressure I'm putting on the right trigger. In a final plea to win, I push down on the A button, pulling the handbrake. The car starts to smoothly skid around the corner. Luckily, there are barriers on the sides of the road this time, preventing me from sliding onto the grass. To my surprise, the drift seems to work better than expected. That is, until, like the fucking idiot I am, make a slight overcorrection towards the left barriers as I exit the drift. I managed to avoid driving directly into the wall, but it did slow me down a bit.

Alex is immediately behind me, and I put all of my strength into accelerating towards the finish line. I'd be fucked if I broke the controller, cause I can't really afford the fifty dollars to buy a new one, but winning this race is more important to me at the moment. The finish line is only about five-hundred metres away, and Alex is slowly beginning to pass. All I can do at this point is push the gas as much as I can, and pray that I can cross the finish line before he can get back into first place. The finish line gets closer and closer, and it seems like it's gonna be too close for me to accurately tell the winner. I can feel my heart pounding in my chest from how stressful this fucking game has been, and now, we're about to find out whose efforts paid off. As each car makes its way over the finish line, each of our dedicated sections of the screen turns to slow motion. When it's finally over, the text fades in on each screen, revealing our place...

...

...

...Second?!?

"FUCK!" I shouted, realising I had been holding my breath since the final stretch of the race.

"HA! Dude, you suck!" Alex exclaimed, playfully shoving me.

"I think that was the most effort I've put into anything in my life." I said, setting my controller on the coffee table in front of me.

"Wow, that's dramatic," Justin remarked.

"Yeah, that's the usual for Jake," Elliot replied, laughing.

"You probably woulda won if you picked a better car, dude. That track was way too close-quarters so you should've gone with a car with better acceleration." Alex said.

"Wha- do you own this game?" I questioned, looking accusatory.

"...Yeah? It came out a few months ago, pretty popular right now." He replied.

"Ugh, this is what I get for playing with a bunch of gamers." I exclaimed, applying a disgusted tone to the last word.

"Not my fault you only play like one game a month!" Alex joked.

"Even then, I was like this close to beating you anyway!" I said, gesturing a minuscule distance between my thumb and pointer finger.

A voice interrupts our argument, coming from right outside the room, "Uh huh...

...

Really? That's bullshit! Come on...

...

Dude, give me a couple of days, I'll make it right!

...

Yeah, I swear."

It seems that we all stopped talking to listen in at the same time. "That sounds like Tyler... who's he arguing with?" Elliot asked. I can't make out the voice of whoever he's talking to, it just sounds like mumbling.

They seem to pause for a moment, and the sound of a single set of footsteps can be heard.

"Fuck..." Tyler says to himself, still out of view.

"...I should probably see what's up, you guys can keep playing without me." I say, getting up from my spot on the couch.

"Yeah, you do that! Less competition for me," Alex exclaims, laughing to himself.

"Hey, I can still beat your ass at this game, I know exactly which car to pick this time!" Elliot argued.

"Yeah, right! Guess we'll find out!"

I leave as the three start up another game, kind of glad I don't have to have another near-heart attack from playing again. When I get back into the dimly-lit hallway, Tyler is nowhere to be seen.

I look around, heading into the main room of the house to see if I can spot him. It's pretty difficult to see anything, because of how dim it is here, plus the sheer amount of animals crowding up the place. Despite that, I manage to spot the Grey Wolf a ways away, hurrying quickly into the bathroom.

As I shove my way through a few groups of teens, I almost fall over a few times, gaining confused stares from a few in the room. I lightly knock on the bathroom door, waiting for a response, "Hey, you okay Tyler?" After a few moments, I'm returned with no answer, "...Tyler-" Before I can finish my sentence, Tyler swiftly pulls open the bathroom door, pulling me in and shutting the door behind me, before sitting down on the side of the bathtub. As I'm about to say something, I hear the sound of him sniffling.

...Is he crying?

He's looking towards the floor, so I can't confirm it visually, but the sound definitely gives it away.

"Whoa, what's wrong? Did something happen?" I asked worriedly, not yet choosing to bring up the argument we overheard.

There's a few seconds of silence as he tries to bring himself together, not very successfully. "I- I... I don't- I don't think I can-"

"It's fine, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to," I tried to reassure him. He raises his head for a moment to look at me, trying to find words to say, instead opting to go back to crying, head in his hands. I've never been good with situations like this, so I sit down next to him, putting my hand on his upper back, softly patting.

"I'm sorry- I'm a fucking idiot. I shouldn't have asked you to come."

"Hey! I've been having fun! Don't worry about me, it seems like you're the one who shouldn't have come." I joke, in some effort to lighten the mood.

Shit, was that inconsiderate of me to say?

To my surprise, he manages to let out a light laugh, "Yeah, I'm starting to realise that."

"...Do you wanna leave, then? They know I didn't want to go here in the first place, so you could just say you're being nice and walking me home." I didn't know if he would actually take up that offer, but I know some guys have a weird thing about not wanting to seem 'uncool' and leaving a party early was definitely considered that.

He thinks for a moment, still sniffling pretty noticeably. "...okay, just- give me a minute, I don't want to go out there looking like this." He mumbles, looking towards the door.

"Yeah, that's fine." I said, continuing to rub around his neck area.

This definitely wasn't how I expected the night to go. But it was a sort of 'two-birds-with-one-stone' kind of situation. I get to help out Tyler, which is usually the other way around, I get to leave early, and hopefully Shae stops bugging me about going to parties, at least for a while.

Now that I think about it, that analogy is pretty messed up.

A few silent minutes go by as I sit next to the still-crying Tyler, waiting for him to recollect himself. Even though he hasn't actually said anything here, in the two months I've known him, this is probably the most vulnerable I've ever seen him. When I first met him, it was pretty accurate to describe him as the kind of guy who acts like he never feels emotion. Hell, even I refuse to be open about my feelings, but most of my friends see through that nowadays. Even now, I don't really understand why I do that. I guess it's just easier to not talk about shit like that? Is that why Tyler does it?

"I think I'm good now," He said, shaking his hands as he stood up.

"Okay, let's get out of this dumpster fire." I sarcastically remarked. Tyler shot me a confused look in return. "Whatever, let's just go."

I open the bathroom door, grabbing his arm as I lead him out into the main room. Almost immediately the voice of a certain black cat perks up behind us.

"Oh? And what did you two get up to in there?" Chris remarked, laughing, "I didn't know you guys were THAT kind of friends!"

God damnit. This stupid fucking feline.

"Yeah, it's too loud out here for me, I needed a break, he came with." I explained, Tyler standing closely behind me with a confused look on his face. Just roll with it, dude, I think to myself, knowing I probably shouldn't say that out loud.

"You know, I would believe that, but normal guys actually just go outside when they need a break." He replied.

"Well, hey! That's where we're going right now, so it all checks out!" I say in the bitchiest voice I can muster.

"Heh, sure thing, Jake." He said, sounding weirdly satisfied with himself. I didn't want to spend any more time in this fucking house than I needed to, especially while talking to Chris, so I continue on, pulling Tyler by the hand towards the exit. After a few moments, we make it to the front door. I promptly open it and we both head outside.

We're immediately greeted by the light of the moon and the starry sky as we head down the walkway toward the street. One of the few benefits of living in such a backwater town was the absence of any significant light pollution. I've been to Portland a few times for school field trips and such, and seeing the sheer difference in visible stars was absolutely staggering. I could only imagine what it would be like to go stargazing in the middle of nowhere.

"At least it's a nice night out." I said.

"Yeah..." Tyler replied, his mind clearly in a completely different place.

"I should probably tell Shae where we went, so she doesn't freak out trying to find us back there." I joked, pulling out my cell phone. Texting on my flip phone was an arduous task, but I didn't want to call her, so I had not much of a choice.

I send the text, and close my phone, returning it to my pocket. As we walk down the road, we stew in the silence, the only auditory sounds coming from the party still close by, and the local crickets chirping.

I won't lie, as much as I usually appreciate quiet, this is the loudest silence I've ever been stuck in. It goes on for more than five minutes. I could tell he wanted to say something, and I was eager to find out whatever was going on that started this in the first place. But, like the coward I am, I try to lighten the mood.

"Hopefully that satisfied your quota of me going to parties with you for a while, cause I do not plan on having the energy for something like that again for at least a few months." I said, awkwardly laughing. He doesn't respond, at least for a while, as he raises his hand, scratching the back of his neck nervously. "...Uhh, are you sure you don't wanna talk about it? I mean-"

"Can I tell you something?" He interrupted, his voice still cracking like it was in the bathroom.

"...Sure?" I replied, slightly confused.

"It's just that- I don't really know- like what-"

"-to say? Just think for a minute. No rush." That's what my dad always says whenever my mind spirals. I used to be really anxious, although I've been getting better at controlling my thoughts in the past few years.

When I went to text Shae a few minutes ago, my phone's clock read 9:48 PM. I'm supposed to be home at ten and we're still at least twenty minutes away, not even including the detour we'll take to get to Tyler's place. Which brings me to the realisation that, when we get to his house, I'm gonna have to walk the rest of the way home by myself, in the dark. If I get murdered by some serial killer this late at night I'm gonna fucking haunt Shae from the afterlife-

"I think I'm gay," He quickly says, his voice holding a noticeable increase in energy compared to what I've been used to tonight.

Well... can't say that's exactly what I was expecting. Was I expecting anything in particular? I honestly don't know anymore. His words took me by surprise, my brain is kind of scrambled right now. I look over at him - he's looking back at me, probably trying to gauge my reaction. I did my best to conceal any facial reaction, but it's pretty clear that my lack of a response is starting to become noticeable.

"...You... think?"

"Well, like- I don't know. I guess I've just been thinking for a while, and it makes sense... all things considered." He replied anxiously.

"That- That's great! Does anyone else know?"

"I only really realised a few weeks ago, so... no. But compared to anyone else, I probably trust you the most to not like- tell anyone?" He said, looking over at me again.

"Well, I appreciate the completely undeserved confidence you have in me," I joked, realising too late that now probably isn't the time for that, "Yeah, I promise I won't tell anyone."

"Thank you," He replies, a genuine smile strewn across his face.

A few minutes go by as we walk down the road, absorbing the positive energy we created. Having only known Tyler for a little over two months, it definitely surprised me knowing that he trusted me more than anyone else to keep a secret like that... I mean, despite the short amount of time since I met him, I'm as close to him as I've been to Shaela for the past eight years. Maybe even closer? I barely even tell Shae about my actual problems, at least the non-surface level stuff. So yeah, I guess it makes sense that he would trust me with something so important, I know I would absolutely trust him if it were me in that situation.

"...So, do you think you're gonna tell your dad?"

He didn't say anything for a moment as he stared down at the ground beneath him, "I'll probably have to tell him soon, if he has to find out from some asshole that isn't me it'd make it ten times more difficult than if I just said it myself."

I agreed, and we let the conversation cut itself off as we finally approached Tyler's house. I followed him up the walkway and stood on the patio, making sure he actually got inside. He tries the doorknob eagerly, to no avail. Realising that it was locked, he reaches into his pocket for his key - again, to no avail.

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me," Tyler mumbled under his breath, clearly done with tonight. All of the lights were off in the house, signalling that his dad was not awake.

"Maybe you'll wake him up if you knock? Then he can let you in."

"Nonono, he thinks I'm staying at your place! If he finds out I went to a party I'm in deep shit," He whispered.

Of course. If I had to lie to my parents, why would I expect anything different from anyone else?

"Okay, uhh... maybe we can make that lie... not a lie?" I said, sounding weirder than I'd like.

Tyler looked at me, confused for a moment, eyes widening as he realised what I meant, "I can't let you do that, I've already forced you through too much shit tonight."

"Oh, come on, of course you can sleep at my place for the night! My parents think I'm at your house right now, so I can just tell them that we both went over there early in the morning. They love you anyway, so it won't be a problem!"

He didn't move at all, still looking reluctant, "Are you sure it won't be... weird? I don't want to put you in an awkward situation cause of w- what I told you."

"Dude, that couch in my room has a hide-a-bed if you don't want to share mine. Either way, we're friends, aren't we? I trust you."

After a few moments of silence, he speaks up, "...I guess so-"

"Great, then it's settled!" I said, putting my arm around his shoulder as I led him back down the walkway.

---

Once we make it to my place, walk up the creaky wooden steps of my patio as I fish the house key out of my pocket. Tyler's standing closely behind me, looking awkward as ever, clearly not knowing what to do with his hands as he switches between putting them in his pockets and clasping them together.

I turn the key on the lock and try the door, noticing that It's completely pitch black inside the house. My parents usually go to bed at 10 PM, and it was well past that at this point. I lock the door behind us as I reach for my pocket, grabbing my phone and flipping it open to use as a barely-useful flashlight. I take Tyler's wrist as I lead him through the furniture of my living room and up the stairs. The only sounds in the house come from the soft ticking of a clock in the kitchen, the sound of which has always freaked me out whenever I'd come downstairs at three in the morning. Despite my best efforts to be as quiet as possible, the old wooden boards of the stairs prove my effort to be futile as they creak with every step. I can only hope that both of my parents have fallen asleep by now, or else they'd definitely have heard us. As I take Tyler down the hallway, walls strung with various family photos and art fit for a motel, I hear no sounds coming from the master bedroom, relaxing some of my tension.

Once we make it to my room, I breathe a sigh of relief as I turn on the overhead light, hoping my mom doesn't find out and try to lecture me in the morning, "Okay, hide-a-bed or mine, your choice!"

"Hide-a-bed." He replies.

"Sure thing, lemme show you how to set it up," I say as I remove each couch cushion one by one. The couch is sitting directly under my massive bedroom window, illuminated by the glow of the moon. Under the cushions is a black folded-up contraption, bearing a metal handle. I grab the handle and start pulling the bed out from the couch. As the first section of the bed comes out, Tyler stands next to me and helps unfold the second section, and finally the third.

I move over to open the closet door, "I have some spare pillows and blankets in here."

"So, why do you have a spare bed... thingy... in your room anyway?" He asked.

"My cousins' family came to visit from the other side of the country a few years back, so my parents made the cousins stay in my room and gave me our old couch that used to be in the living room. They were here for like two weeks, it was fucking awful," I remarked, pulling a comforter out of the closet and unfolding it out on the mattress.

"That sounds miserable," Tyler sympathized.

"It was, but hey, now I got a sick as fuck couch in my room! And it works as a great place for certain friends to sleep when they wanna spend the night," I said sarcastically, looking over at Tyler as I grabbed the pillows from the closet, tossing them to one end of the bed.

He turned his head, baffled, "Was that a dig on me?" He questioned.

"Depends on how you took it I suppose," I replied, smiling cunningly.

"You're the one who offered, dude- are you sure you didn't drink at the party? You've at least doubled your usual level of sarcasm." He retorted.

"Nope, unless somebody spiked my soda!" I joked, but the realisation slowly set in, "Oh shit- maybe someone spiked my soda?!?"

"Don't freak out, I seriously doubt someone would spike your drink,"

"God, I hope so, if my parents found out I went to that party, that'd be one thing, but if I got drunk? I doubt I'd see the outside world for months," I sighed.

"Even if you were drunk, it's not like you would still be drunk in the morning for them to find out, anyway."

"Yeah, I guess you're right," I said, letting out a yawn shortly thereafter. "Fuck, I didn't realise how tired I am." Looking at my alarm clock, it was 10:37 PM. That wasn't terribly late, I've definitely stayed up later when there was an assignment due the next day that I forgot about, but even before I met up with Alex and Elliot, that party was just wearing me down. "At least I can sleep in 'till like noon tomorrow. You sure you don't need anything before I pass out from exhaustion?"

"No, I'm okay, I think. And, thank you... Jake." He replied, smiling at me.

"No problem, dude!" I quietly exclaimed as I turned off the bedroom lights and hopped into bed. I can practically feel my muscles dissolve as I lean into the mattress, pulling the heavy blankets over me as I close my eyes.

I can't help but feel something itching in the back of my brain. I never did find out why Tyler was even crying back at the party. Was it related to what he told me after? He sounded pretty upset when he was talking to whoever it was in the hallway, too, so maybe that was why? We've already talked about so much shit tonight, though, and I definitely did not have the energy to have another huge conversation about something like that. It could definitely wait until tomorrow.

Soon, I feel my consciousness drift away, the only sound I can make out being the slow breathing of Tyler, across the room.

---

As I wake up, I'm blinded by the bright sun shining in through my windows, directly into my eyes. I glance over at my alarm clock, feeling incredibly groggy and sore, noticing that it's 11:13 AM. Usually, the latest I'd sleep in on weekends was only around ten, but I guess it took a lot of my energy yesterday to try to tune the party out. At least it's over.

I slowly sit up, yawning as I lean back against the bed frame. I glanced around the room, noticing that the hide-a-bed had been folded back into the couch, Tyler nowhere to be seen. I reach over to my bedside table to check my phone, finding an unread text from him, sent a few hours ago.

Tyler: hey

woke up early, figured youd want 2 sleep in.

will call u later, might have somthin big i wanna share, will see

A pair of oddly cryptic messages. Guess that confirms he isn't here anymore.

At least it was a Saturday, meaning that I had full permission to be a slob. I get out of bed, deciding to skip my usual shower until after breakfast. Other than the snacks that were out at the party, I ate practically nothing last night. I could almost feel my stomach turning itself inside out, so I hurried out of my room and downstairs to the kitchen to have some breakfast.

The first thing I notice when I get downstairs is my mom, sitting on the couch with a book. I head straight to the kitchen, trying not to make myself stand out.

"Jake! Finally woken up, I see." She remarked, still looking at her book.

"Hey, mom!" There's a moment of silence as I grab a bowl out of the cupboard, as well as a box of cereal, and begin to pour.

She speaks up, "Your friend, Tyler, seemed to be in a hurry to leave this morning, anything I should know about?"

"...Not that I know of? Like what?" I questioned as I poured some milk from the fridge, grabbed a spoon, and sat at the kitchen counter.

"Well, it's not like we didn't notice that you weren't home by ten like your father asked you to be, so obviously you must have a good excuse for why you didn't at least call to let us know you'd be late?" She replied. I could tell when she started talking all responsible-parent-like, it meant that she was gonna lecture me about something.

I sighed, thinking of the right thing to say. "...Well, Tyler was going through some things... so I was trying to help him with that, I guess. Time just kinda flew by and I wasn't able to get home 'till later."

"So he spent the night here? Weren't you at his house?" She asked as I ate a spoonful of cereal.

"Yeah... we went out for a bit and once I noticed how late it was I offered to let him spend the night at our house since it was closer," I said. Almost entirely a lie, but definitely preferable to the truth.

"Jake..." She said, setting her book down on the coffee table in front of the couch, walking over to me, and resting a hand on my shoulder. "You're sixteen now, obviously we don't expect you to tell us everything you're up to nowadays. But we worry about you! I worry about you. Just for future reference, please let us know if you're gonna be home late or anything like that."

"Okay, I'll keep that in mind," I said, looking up at her.

"Great! Now, I have to go meet a friend for lunch, please try not to burn the house down while I'm out!" She said as she grabbed her purse and keys off of the counter, hurring out the door.

"No promises, love you!" I said as she closed the door behind her.

Well, I guess that went... better than expected? I doubt she believed that story I made up, but I guess as long as I don't break curfew without telling them, I should be fine.

Having the house to myself wasn't totally uncommon. Considering my dad was gone during the day five days a week, and my mom would head out to go meet friends or run errands pretty often, I got some much needed alone time often enough to not go mad.

As I finish my bowl of cereal, I realise that I probably should go shower as soon as possible, considering the night I had. I put my bowl and spoon in the dishwasher and head back upstairs. I grab a towel from my room and head into the bathroom, grabbing my various fur care products out of the cabinet for after the shower. As I turn the shower on, I hear the sound of my ringtone going off in the pocket of my pants on the floor. I sigh annoyedly, walking over and trying to figure out which pocket my phone was in. When I flip open the phone, the Caller ID reads out Tyler's name.

"Tyler! What's up?" I ask eagerly, hoping to find out what the news he cryptically texted about was.

"Jake- fuck, I messed up, I shouldn't have- what am I gonna do?" He said anxiously, sounding almost out of breath.

"Hey! Slow down, what's wrong?" I questioned.

"I'm such a fucking idiot! Why did I think this would be a good idea? Jake, I'm so sorry-"

"Tyler! Calm. Down. Just take a few deep breaths," I said. After a few moments, I can hear his breathing steadying on the other side of the call. "Okay, good. Now, what's wrong?"

There's a short pause as he tries to find the right words to say. It sounds like he's been crying. What even the fuck has been the past twenty-four hours?

"Can- do you think I could crash at y- your place for a few more nights? I don't know what to do."

[softspideys]

Are you okay? (Peter Parker x Reader) (Part IV)

Part I Part II Part III

summary: while walking home alone one night, you find you’re being followed by a group of men. a certain masked hero swoops in to save the day before it’s too late.

warnings: none

words: 2.5k

pairings: peter parker x reader

a/n: this is it, the last chapter! i’m sorry this took so long, i was away for the weekend and then i’ve been sick all week and ugh. but anyway, thank you all so much for reading and please feel free to send me some requests!!! love y’all xoxoxo

You woke up feeling like garbage. You sat at your kitchen table, slowly eating your cereal, putting your spoon in the bowl and then in your mouth in a robotic motion. Your mom eyed you over her cup of coffee.

“Are you feeling alright?” she asked worriedly. “You don’t look so good. Did you get any sleep last night?”

You hadn’t, of course. After Spider-Man left you on your fire escape, you’d crawled back through the window and huddled under your covers, spending the rest of the night replaying your conversation over and over and wondering where things had gone wrong.

One second, the two of you were laughing and flirting. The next, he was pulling away from you, claiming you didn’t really want to know the person underneath the mask. But how could you not?

“Yeah,” you said now, trying to muster up a smile. “I just, um, have an exam today that I’m nervous about.” You felt a little bad lying, but this situation was way beyond explaining.

At school, you opened your locker and stared into it, almost contemplating your books rather than grabbing them. Suddenly, someone dropped their books a few feet away from you, sending papers flying all over the hall and startling you out of your trance.  

You turned around. Peter Parker was standing there, a stricken look on his face as he looked at the mess all over the floor. Slowly, he knelt and began picking up his things.

“Nice one, Penis Parker,” Flash Thompson cackled as he walked by, kicking some of his papers farther down the hall for good measure. Peter didn’t answer, but you saw his shoulders hunch even more, like he was trying to disappear.

It didn’t look like anyone was going to step in, so you did, putting your backpack down and crouching to help him. “Thanks,” he mumbled, but when he looked up and saw it was you, he paled. “Y/N – what are you – I mean – you don’t have to help me,” he said quickly.

However, you were more taken aback by the dark circles under his eyes. If you looked bad, he looked ten times worse. “Peter,” you said quietly, “are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he said, turning away from you so he could shove the last of his papers into his backpack. “Just lost my balance.”

“Peter, wait -” you began. Something wasn’t right, you could tell. 

But he stood up, shouldering his backpack. “Thanks for helping me. I’ll see you in class.” Before you could say anything else, he was on his feet and practically sprinting away.

You didn’t see Peter again until later that day in math class. He had his head resting on his arms, staring listlessly at the board. When your teacher announced it was time to split into partners and do some problems in the book, you spun around in your seat. “Be my partner?”

He blinked at you, clearly surprised. “Sure.”

“Cool.” The two of you worked in amicable silence for a few minutes. You could feel him sneaking glances at you, but you didn’t speak. Finally, you asked casually, “So, you gonna tell me what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” he said immediately. “I’m just tired.”

You gave him a look. “Nice try. I know that’s not true. C’mon, Peter, you can tell me. I promise I won’t laugh.”

“I know you won’t,” he muttered. “It’s just – I don’t know.”

“What?” you pressed.

With a sigh, he admitted quietly, “I messed up with someone I like. Really badly.”

You almost laughed at how ironic it was. “That’s funny, because I did too.”

He looked at you with wide eyes. “You – you did?”

“Yeah.”

“What’d you do?”

“I pushed him to tell me something really personal. He didn’t want to. He thinks, I don’t know, that it’ll affect how I feel about him.”

“Maybe it will,” Peter suggested. “Maybe he thinks you’ll be disappointed, or angry.” You couldn’t be sure, but it sounded like his voice was shaking a little.

You shook your head. “That’s the thing. I know it won’t. There’s nothing that could happen that would make me disappointed or angry with him. I don’t care about anyone else; just him. I just wish I could’ve told him that.” You looked up at Peter and saw he was staring at you, his cheeks slightly red. “Sorry,” you said apologetically. “Was that an overshare? We were talking about you.”

“No, it’s okay,” he said, clearing his throat.

“So, what did you do to mess things up?”

“I pushed her away when she was only trying to get close to me. And I told myself it was for her safety, but really I think it’s because I’m scared.”

“Why are you scared?” you asked.

“Because . . .  because it would mean letting someone see a part of me that’s really private. And, you know, I don’t want it to be the wrong person or anything. Not that I think it is, I just – I don’t know. I’m just scared,” he rambled. You noticed he tended to do that when he was nervous. The habit was familiar, but you couldn’t put your finger on why.

“I guess you’d just have to really trust this person,” you said thoughtfully. “You know, like trust that they won’t hurt you. But you sort of have to do that with every relationship, right?”

“I guess so. I just feel like I ruined everything and now I won’t even be able to tell her how I feel.”

You nodded slowly. “Well, do you really care about her?”

“Yeah,” he said softly. “I really do.”

“Then it can’t be totally ruined, can it? I think you should tell her all of that. If she’s worth it, she’ll understand.”

There was a pause as Peter considered it. “Yeah,” he said finally. “Maybe I will.” He smiled at you. “Thanks.”

You smiled back, but it felt a little forced. For some reason, the idea of Peter caring so much about another girl didn’t sit right with you. Were you jealous? You had no right to be. Peter was your friend and that was it. You had bigger problems right now.  

__________________________________________________________________

In hindsight, you shouldn’t have been surprised when Spider-Man came to visit you that night. It was only midnight, but you were already in bed, fast asleep. The past few days had been exhausting.

A tap on your window woke you with a start. For a moment, you feared the worst, thinking a robber or a murderer or something, but when you peeked out, all you saw was the familiar flash of red and blue.

Spider-Man waved at you and motioned for you to come out. You briefly considered ignoring him, but knew you wouldn’t. You put on some shoes and joined him out on the fire escape.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

“Sorry for waking you up.”

“What are you doing here?” you asked coolly.

“I came to apologize,” he said, looking down at his feet. “I shouldn’t have run away like that. I was just scared.”

Hearing Spider-Man admit that he, too, could be scared made you soften. “I’m sorry, too,” you said. “I shouldn’t have tried to force you into something you didn’t want to do.”

“You were right, though,” he said, taking a step towards you. “If we’re going to do . . . this . . . then we need to be honest. And as long as I’m wearing this, I’ll never get to be 100% honest with you.”

You didn’t answer, scarcely daring to breathe. Was he really saying what you thought he was saying? “I just don’t want you to be disappointed,” he said, and he almost sounded like a little kid.

You shook your head. “I won’t be. I know I won’t be.”

“Okay.” Spider-Man clenched his fists, and it sounded like he was taking some deep breaths. You watched, eyes wide, as he slowly reached up and lifted his mask. You saw pale skin, pink lips, no stubble, dark eyes . . .

And now Peter Parker was looking at you, equal parts hopeful and terrified. You felt like your heart was going to stop, like your mind was racing at a million miles per hour.

“Oh . . . my God,” you said finally.

His face fell. “You’re disappointed. I knew you would be. God, I’m so dumb, I –”

“No,” you interrupted. “No, I’m not. I just . . . need a second.” You stared at him, and he stared back, each taking the other in. The moment felt profound somehow, like you were going down a road there was no turning back from.

“It was you,” you said in wonder. “It was you this whole time.”

“Yeah,” Peter said nervously. “Are - are you mad at me?”

You considered it. You knew you had every right to be, but for some reason you just . . . weren’t. “No,” you admitted. “Not at the moment, anyway. I think I’m still in shock, maybe?”

“Oh,” Peter looked even more bewildered.

“I’m mostly just embarrassed.”

“Embarrassed? Why?”

“Because I literally talked about you to you! And you knew it all along!” Your eyes widened. “I told you how much I liked you! I confided in you . . . about you?”

“Don’t be embarrassed,” Peter said quickly. “If anything I should be embarrassed. I kind of used Spider-Man as a way to get to talk to you because I was too dorky to do it at school.”

“It’s okay,” you said instantly. “I’m glad you did.”

He smiled a little. “How about we both agree to stop being embarrassed?”

“Sounds good to me,” you said. He held out his hand, and you shook. “So . . . what now?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never really done this before.”

“You mean you’ve never told anyone?” you asked, shocked and a little pleased.

“Um, well, Ned knows. But he found out by accident - long story,” Peter said when you raised your eyebrows. “Basically I crawled through my window and he was there waiting for me to come home, so. Yeah.”

“Your aunt doesn’t even know?”

“No, and I’m kind of hoping it stays that way, like, forever. She’s already lost so much. I’m all she has.”

“So you just sneak in and out of your room every night to go fight bad guys? And she has no idea?” you said incredulously. No wonder Peter always looked so tired.

“Pretty much.”

“What if you get hurt?”

“I heal pretty fast. Or I just cover them up.” He shrugged, trying to be nonchalant, but you could tell that it was just a front.

“That’s a lot for a fifteen-year-old to carry by himself,” you said gently. “What happens when Spider-Man needs someone to save him?”

“He saves himself,” Peter said, not meeting your eyes. “He has to.”

“Not anymore,” you said, your voice quiet. “If you ever get hurt, or you just need to talk . . . come here, okay? Let me help you like you helped me.”

“I don’t want to burden you, and really, it’s no big deal, usually I just –”

“Peter,” you interrupted. ‘I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t mean it. And I really mean it.”

“Okay,” he whispered. “Thank you.”

You swallowed, gathering all of your courage. “I really like you. A lot. And I know it’s dangerous and whatever but I kind of don’t care. Because I think you’re a great person and you care so much about everyone and I feel like you deserve to have someone care about you too. If that makes any sense.”

Peter stared at you, brown eyes wide. “I really like you too,” he said slowly. “And . . . if you really want this, then yeah. It might be selfish of me, but yeah.”

“I think you deserve to be selfish for once, Peter Parker,” you said with a roll of your eyes. He laughed.

Now that you knew his secret, you were able to ask him questions about being Spider-Man, and he was relieved to finally be able to answer them. You sat together on your fire escape and the two of you talked about what felt like everything: the so-called “Stark Internship,” meeting the Avengers, how he constantly felt like he had to prove himself since he was so much younger and inexperienced, even the night he saved you, which up until now you wanted nothing more than to forget.

You could tell he was trying his hardest not to constantly mention Mr. Stark, but despite this, nearly every single one of his sentences began with “Mr. Stark told me . . .” or “Mr. Stark did . . .” or “Mr. Stark thinks . . .” You could tell you were probably going to be spending a lot of your time competing with Mr. Stark for Peter’s affection, but you didn’t mind. You knew that Peter essentially idolized the man, and he looked out for Peter almost in a fatherly way. It was sweet.

Peter also told you about some big missions he’d been on and how they were fun, especially going to Berlin, but he mostly just liked helping people in your neighborhood. “Just think,” he said, poking you, “if I became an Avenger full-time, we never would’ve met.”

“Yeah, because you never would’ve saved me from those guys,” you pointed out, smirking when he blushed. You weren’t offended; it was just funny to see him get flustered.

“Oh yeah. Right. Sorry.”

No matter how much you tried to force them down, you finally started yawning. “You should sleep,” Peter said.

“So should you,” you challenged him.

“That doesn’t sound like a bad idea, honestly,” he said with a shrug. He stood up and went to put his mask back on. “I’ll, uh, see you tomorrow?”

Great. You were in the weird stage of beginning to date, where neither of you were comfortable enough to initiate your first kiss yet. You knew Peter was too respectful (and awkward) to try anything, so you decided to take matters into your own hands.

“Wait,” you said, standing up. He paused, looking at you questioningly. You walked over to him, stood on your toes, grabbed his face, and kissed him.

Any worrying thoughts you had in your mind at that moment immediately vanished, because he responded so enthusiastically that you knew he’d been wanting to do the same. He dropped his mask on the ground and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer and kissing you back.

All this time you’d been wondering what it would be like to kiss Spider-Man, and now you were currently finding out. Only it didn’t feel like Spider-Man; it just felt like Peter. But that was good. It was really good.

After what felt like ages, the two of you broke apart. You would’ve happily stayed like that forever, wrapped up in his arms, but then Peter leaned in to kiss you again . . . and the two of you bumped heads.

“Ow!” you said together, pulling back to rub your own respective foreheads.

“Jeez,” Peter said, looking embarrassed. “I don’t know why I – why are you laughing?”

You had begun to giggle, mostly just at the absurdness of the situation but also because you were just happy. He didn’t sound annoyed, just puzzled and amused. You shook your head to let him know it wasn’t at him.

“Sorry, I’m sorry,” Peter said with a sheepish grin, pressing several small, affectionate kisses to your forehead. “Are you okay?”

You smiled up at him and nodded. “Yeah. I’m perfect.”

[hunterpuff]

I Thought I Lost You

Summary: You had a really bad night at work. Warnings: A bit of angst. Mentions of serious injury and death. Pairing: Slightly implied SamxReader Word Count: 1,200 A/N: This is my first attempt at a SPN fic/a reader insert. Please be kind.

Most days you loved your job as a nurse in the ED. It was fast paced, thrilling, never left you bored. It was, in short, an adrenaline rush you never tired of. It was also the thing that had brought you to your boys. It had started a year and a half ago, when Dean had been a patient in your ED. You had stitched him up when he had come in with a large gash on his arm that he refused to explain to anyone. Two weeks later he was back with a wound to the side of his head that he brushed off as ‘having a dangerous job’. The following month you had walked into a room and seen your former patient in a chair and a man he introduced as his brother Sam was sitting on the metal ED bed with a fractured wrist.

It had gone on like that for several months. Every few weeks one of the boys had come in to be stitched up, often times asking for you by name. It went on like that for 8 months, before you’d finally learned the truth about that dangerous job they’d been keeping secret. All hell had, literally, broken loose in the ED one night and who had shown up to save you but your two favorite patients. After than night you had sort of been adopted by the two brothers and became their own private nurse. No more trips to the hospital for them…they’d found a way to secure all the supplies you’d need to patch up any of their injuries in the privacy of the bunker.

Though you had been more than glad to become a private caretaker for the two of them, you had been unwilling to give up your job at the hospital. Even as often as your boys found themselves needing patched up, it wasn’t enough to keep you busy enough to be happy. Plus, you genuinely loved your job. You loved being able to help people. Most of the time. But, for every good night you had…every case that made your heart happy and reminded you of why you did this…some nights there were cases that left you physically, mentally, and emotionally drained.

It had been a typical night in the ED. Not too busy, but not quiet by any stretch of the imagination. Most of the patients had been your run of the mill emergency cases. A few cases of the flu, chest pain, an older woman who had fallen and had a possible fractured hip, a teenage who had been brought in after taking too many pills saying that they just wanted to die. Nothing too exciting or anything you couldn’t handle.

But then, with less than two hours left in your 12 hour shift, it had happened. The case that had turned your night from typical into a nightmare. The ambulance crew had called in that they were bringing in a victim from a motor vehicle accident. The driver had been pronounced dead on the scene, they were bringing in the passenger. Male, early to mid 30s, and extensive trauma…it wasn’t looking good for him. You and the rest of the trauma team had jumped into action, getting the trauma bay ready for the incoming victim. You were ready for whatever came rolling through those doors…or so you had thought.

You had been standing at the back of the room when they had wheeled the vic in, so the first thing you had seen was a tall, lanky body, with a mop of brunette hair matted together with blood. You had felt your heart drop into your stomach before stopping all together as your breath hitched in your throats. You’d heard about time standing still, but you’d never experienced it. Not until that moment. But the time it took for them to roll the stretcher into the room, a time frame that was realistically only about 30 seconds, felt like it took five minutes.

The rest of the team had jumped into action immediately, working as a fluid machine to try and save his life, but you had stood there frozen in place until one of your co-workers had called your name and snapped you out of the trance you had found yourself in. As soon as you were able to shake yourself out of it, you had jumped into action with the rest of your team, giving everything you had to try and save the man on the gurney in front of you. You had started an IV and then pushed what was meant to have been life saving medications. You had taken over for one of your coworkers when he was too physically exhausted to continue with chest compressions. For over an hour everyone had done all they could to save the young man, but in the end his injuries had been too extensive and he had succumbed to them.

You were still running on the adrenaline coursing through your veins as you gathered your things and clocked out from your shift. The events of the past few hours still hadn’t quite sunk in yet as you got into your car and drove…well, you meant to go home but it would seem your body had other plans as you went into autopilot and drove straight to the bunker. You didn’t even realize where you were going until you were already there, sitting in your car staring at the entrance and trying to work up the nerve to go inside.

The entire walk from your car to the door, your legs felt as if you were walking on Jello and you were sure your knees were going to give out on you at any given second; only they didn’t. They kept carrying you to the door, then inside and down the stairs. They didn’t stop until you were standing at the entrance of the kitchen, staring at two familiar figures. Neither of them noticed you at first, not until two things happened simultaneously. The first thing being that you let out a loud sob at the sight of Sam standing there, the refrigerator door wide open as he tried to decide what he wanted to eat. The second thing that happened was that, as the boys looked up at the sound of your sob, the adrenaline finally wore off and you felt yourself begin to fall to the floor as your legs gave out from under you.

Dean had been the closest to you and was the first one to get to you, grabbing on to you to keep you from hitting the floor. As soon as he had steadied you and you felt as if you could trust yourself to stand on your own you were pushing him off of you and reaching for Sam, clinging to him as you buried his face against his chest, sobbing uncontrollably. You felt his arms wrap around you, holding you tight as he tried to comfort you. As both of your boys tried to ask you what was wrong, you were only able to manage to form five words through your tears.

“I thought I lost you.”