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its-in-the-woods · 3 months ago

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Coyote Head - Part 10 - Family History

master list

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part9

Pairing: Cooper Howard x Lucy Maclean

Includes many other characters from Fallout

Synopsis: Cooper worries at his lip, grabbing the ledger, notebook, and bible. He opens the bible up, running his fingers across the inside cover, his fingers moving along where the edges are glued to the front cover. He digs out his pocket knife, flicking it open.

MINOR GET OUT. Rating/Warning: Animal/people death, dead animal mutilation, Alternative Universe, Slow Burn, Death, Aging, Family Feuding, Older Man/Younger Woman

Note: that I will not be spoiling any of the reading. So you have been warned. I will keep my tags relevant without spoiling what is happening in the story.

*it's here, it's a week late, but it's here. There is so many details, i needed to make sure it was working!

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Lucy wakes up to an empty bed, she huffs, wishing Cooper would have woken her up. He had taken to letting her sleep in since all the cows had calved. It wasn't that she didn’t appreciate the rest, it was more that she wanted to contribute as much as anyone else. Maybe more she wanted to be seen as an equal to everyone else.

Her body aches uncomfortably as she moves, grabbing enough clothes to shuffle to her room. She grabs a towel and some clean clothes before going to take a shower.

The hot water soothes some of the aches from the previous few days. Lucy wants to stay longer but knows there is work to be done. Instead, getting out she towel dries herself, surprised that there were no bruises considering she had collapsed at some point.

Dressed and somewhat ready to face the world Lucy heads downstairs. Fingers running over the braid in her hair as she makes her way over to the kitchen. Grabbing a cup of coffee Lucy sees a note beside the coffee maker.

Chickens

Is all that is written on there. Lucy grabs a few bites of toast, before filling up two thermoses of coffee. Walking to the front, she stops her ears ringing. Eyes scrunching tight as she leans against the wall for a moment. The whole world going quiet except for the non-stop high-pitched ring. For a moment Lucy believes it will never end unless her ears drums break.

Then it stops.

Lucy takes several deep breaths, the world spinning as she opens her eyes. Placing the coffee on the ground she rubs one of her ears fully expecting blood. Nothing.

Righting herself she grabs the coffee and puts on her boots, trying not to think too hard about the ringing. She hopes that the doctors and nurses were right and that it would stop over time. Walking down the gravel drive, taking in the fresh air, and peace that comes with being in the middle of nowhere.

Going past the house and shop, she hears the unmistakable sounds of chickens. Cawing, clicks, and general noisiness of the little dinosaurs. The Howards had gone all out for their large flock of feathered beasts. A space had been cut into the forest, then large hardware cloth walls erected around it with a netted roof. The trees provided shade, roosting purchases, and endless shenanigans for them; while the net kept predatory birds out. The chickens also regularly free-roamed the place.

Today they were kept inside, squabbling and screeching as they chased after different bugs. Cooper sat on a stump in the middle, occasionally throwing handfuls of grain into the flock around his feet. Lucy carefully opens and closes the latches, the chickens running over to see if she has any goodies.

“Nothing today Ladies. But after dinner, I will see what I can scrounge up.” Lucy told the little minions as she walks over to where Cooper sat.

He smiles at her, “Good to see yah, gorgeous.”

Lucy hands him the coffee before rolling a stump over to sit on.

“You can wake me up, you know,” Lucy says, accepting her thermos back as she gets settled.

“You looked so peaceful, figured rest was in order,” Cooper replies, taking a swig of the coffee.

Lucy sighs, watching the chickens move around. Occasional squabbles happening as they fought over a bug.

“It was nice to sleep in. But I want to pull my weight too. Don't mind getting up early to help with stuff.” Lucy adds as a red fluffed-up chicken comes over tilting its head to give her a better once over, before it hops onto Lucy’s knee.

“Careful, she is known to win hearts,” Cooper chuckles as the bird carefully circles Lucy's knee before settling herself down.

Lucy gently ran her hand over the bird. “I am not easily won, little bird, but you're awfully sweet.”

“She doesn't lay much anymore,” Cooper says, scritching around the bird comb. “But she's a fantastic foster mom, so we keep'er. She looks after the new hatchlin's.”

“Good job little Mama,” Lucy says, shifting so the chicken has space across both legs to lay on. “Keep 'em nice and toasty under all those feathers, make sure the roos aren’t assholes.”

“Never had chickens down south,” Cooper adds, throwing some more grain out. “Barb wanted the kids to be a bit older before we had them.”

“I am sorry you never got that experience with her,” Lucy says, moving her hand to cover his.

Cooper shrugs, squeezing her hand. “I don’t mean to bring her up all the time.” Cooper gazes out towards the treeline. “You’d think after so many years it won’t bother me so much.”

Lucy leans her head against his shoulder, rubbing her fingers over his. “She was your wife, your children’s mother. I would be surprised if it didn’t bother you.”

Cooper nods, holding onto Lucy’s hand, “Have I shown you a photo?”

“No, you have not. But I would love to see her,” Lucy smiles, leaning away so he can fish out his phone.

He scrolls through his photos, finding an album labeled: Barb with a red heart beside it. Cooper clicked it open, showing her a photo of the woman. She was neatly dressed in a lavender riding outfit and, shiny black helmet with purple hearts. The grin across her face was the same as her daughter Janey’s, along with the beautiful curly hair. Barb was standing beside her stallion, the big black horse’s head resting against the side of her face.

“She is stunning!” Lucy exclaims as Cooper shows her a handful more photos. “I can see so much of her in your kids. The way Janey smiles, Matthias eyes, always with you. I can see why you would think about her often.”

Cooper carefully closes his phone, “Thank you for understanding, Lucy. The kids sure have enjoyed your company. I have to.”

“Even if we end up in the ER after our first dance?” Lucy teases, as she kisses the side of his face.

Cooper laughs, turning to her as he slips his phone back into his pocket. He leans forward and kisses her, hands holding her face, Lucy kissing back as she rubs her thumbs over his cheekbones. Leaning back he grins as he rests his forehead against hers, hat-tipping up.

“Maybe more so. Keeps life interesting after all.” Cooper chuckles, eyes closing as the two sit there for a moment.

***

“None of this makes sense,” Lucy stomps, looking at the pages and papers laid out on the tables.

Cooper runs a hand through his hair, putting his hat on the table. “We got to be missin' somethin', it all seems so random.”

Lucy rubs at her eyes, all the words seem to be doubling over themselves. “The bible isn’t even a bible as far as I can tell. Yes, it has the cover, but there are no actual passages, not like you'd see in a modern bible. It's more like journal entries and way more pages than you’d normally see.”

Cooper groans as he flips through the journals again, “Not to add to the confusion. But his journals don’t add much. There are some day-to-day thin's, but nothing' specifically mentionin' going't the forest.”

“Even in the ledgers. He misses some full moons, and then sometimes he is losing things weekly.” Lucy grumbles as she flips open her notebook to a blank page. “Maybe it’s not lining up with our calendar, but the lunar one.”

Cooper's eyebrows go up, “Doesn't our calendar follow the moon?”

“No, not exactly. The lunar calendar was exactly twenty-eight days and had thirteen months. Some people believe it syncs more with the solar calendar.” Lucy is flipping open her phone. She scans over it, trying to see if it lines up with anything else, but it still doesn’t make sense.

“Oh man,” Lucy sighs, “So the dates are a little more on point. But this doesn’t explain what he was doing.”

Cooper dug around his pocket pulling out a packet of cigarettes, he tapes them on the table a few times. Then pulls out one, fiddling with it before standing it filter down on the table. Opening a journal again, looking at the top, fingers running over the sentences

“What if the dates are supposed to be the passages from the bible??” Cooper asks as he gets up to stand beside Lucy. “Have we looked up if they reference the modern bible?”

Lucy felt her brows furrow, she opened a new google search, typing in the passage. “Philippians 4:18, I have received full payment and have more than enough. I am amply supplied, now that I have received from Epaphroditus the gifts you sent. They are a fragrant offering, an acceptable sacrifice, pleasing to God. “

“Did he lose any animals that week?’ Cooper asks, Lucy flipping over the ledger.

“No,” Lucy says quietly, finger on the date. “Nothing was lost that week.”

Cooper let out a whoop, walking around the table a few times. “Well, I am thinkin' we may have figured somethin' out. The date is the passage, but why was he adding scripture at the top of the journal pages.”

Lucy grabs the journal flipping to a random page, “Corinthians 10:20 should be No, but the sacrifices of pagans are offered to demons, not to God, and I do not want you to be participants with demons. But he has written down Blessed are the destroyers of false hope, for they are the true Messiahs. For they will bring prosperity to your life and land.”

Cooper pulls his glasses out of his pocket, balancing them on his nose as he opens his phone. Lucy waits as he types the words into his browser. His brow scrunches as he reads what the search results show.

“You sure that’s what he has written?” Cooper asks, peering at the journal and then at his phone. He hands her the phone Lucy’s mouth falls open.

“The Satanic bible?” Lucy asks, her stomach twisting. “Seriously? He’s quoting Anton LeVay?”

Cooper’s eyes run back and forth over the different pages in the journal as he flips through them. “I am guessin' that each of these is a misquote, he puts whatever name and number so that if you were just flipping through it wouldn’t seem odd.”

“Some of these are Druidic, Hindi, Jewish. There are hundreds of quotes, and only a handful of them relate to the English bible.” Lucy says, leaning back in her chair, feeling more confused than when she started.

“Did he have other books around? Like different, umm, bibles? Not sure if that’s the right term.” Cooper asks, Lucy shaking her head.

“We didn’t have a lot of books we usually just borrowed from the library. The only religious text I thought he had was this bible.” Lucy gestures at the massive leather-bound thing.

“We could go to the library. See if they ever lent him something along t'ose lines.” Cooper suggests, fingers tapping along the hard plastic surface of the table.

“Wouldn’t explain why he was bringing animals into the forest. Or misquoting the bible in the journals.” Lucy groans, fiddling with the pen before doodling on one of her notebooks.

Cooper worries at his lip, grabbing the ledger, notebook, and bible. He opens the bible up, running his fingers across the inside cover, his fingers moving along where the edges are glued to the front cover. He digs out his pocket knife, flicking it open.

“Do you mind?” He asks Lucy, “I think there might be something under here.”

Lucy nods her head, scooting forward to watch him work. Cooper carefully slides the knife along the edge working the page free from the front. He does all four sides, before putting the knife down on the table, he tries to lift the edges but his fingers aren’t the nimblest.

“I got it,” Lucy says, patting his thigh, he shifts away so that she can get closer to it.

Using her nails she carefully lifts and peels the paper off the front. The paper is thin and much thicker than the rest of the book. The edges were glued and left small bits behind as she lifted it, but underneath the writing was in near perfect condition.

It was a list of names, the whole front cover was full of names. Names and dates, going down four neat columns.

“Holy shit,” Cooper said quietly, leaning in beside Lucy to see them all. “This goes back dozens of generations.”

“Earliest is sixteen fifty-six. Some kept it for a few years, others for decades.” Lucy says quietly.

“Not father to son either, sometimes mother to daughter, father to daughter, mother to son.” Cooper runs his fingers down the names. “Not all the same last name either."

“Hold on, hold on.” Lucy flips through the pages of the bible, stopping in one section and then going to the next one. “This isn’t just in English, it’s in several different languages.”

Cooper squints at it, “How did we miss that?”

Lucy shrugs, laughing at the ridiculousness of it, “It’s not a bible, it’s my family's history. Past from generation to generation.”

The two sit there staring at the book for a moment, Lucy struggling to wrap her mind around the fact that she was holding a piece of her family's history. Going back three hundred plus years, what it contained she could only imagine.

“Your folks settled here hundreds of years ago,” Cooper said, walking over to the fridge and bringing back two beers. Lucy happily accepts one, maybe it will help her brain not leak out of her ears.

“Tim always said we were some of the first in the area. Why it was important for us to make sure we looked after the community and the land.” Lucy says quietly, her fingers carefully moving more of the paper off the book revealing an inscription along where the page met the spine. “Wonder what this says?’

Cooper dug out his phone, typing the words into google, “Think google could translate that.”

Lucy opens her beer taking a sip, it was only two in the afternoon but at this moment she could not care.

“Ahh, so I think google is a little lost, First to be first, born to be born,” Cooper replies, taking off his glasses to rub his eyes. “I think they mean from firstborn to firstborn.”

“So it was passed down generationally from the firstborn father/mother to the firstborn son/daughter,” Lucy says, opening the book carefully again.

“Won’t this be like dust or something? Like I didn’t think they had books this old.” Cooper muses, as he watches Lucy.

“Not many people had books, but I think this wasn't as big as it was,” Lucy states, flipping from the back to the front of the book. “The last few names are all MacLean. Past father to son.” A lightbulb goes off in the back of her mind. “Grandpa always said that I broke the curse of being the firstborn daughter after so many generations of sons.”

“The curse? What does that even mean?” Cooper says, taking a drink from his beer and looking as Lucy flips between pages.

“My Dad was the one who was supposed to receive the bible.” Lucy states, her fingers going over what looks to be possibly old German. “But then he died. Died in the forest.”

“What are you thinkin?” Cooper pushes, his hand rubbing along Lucy’s hunched shoulders.

“I think this book details my family, or my ancestors I guess, coming here. Settling here, and looking after the land.” Lucy sits down, rubbing at her face. “Which means squat. I knew my family was old, but why did he not pass this down to me.”

“He said you broke the curse.” Cooper replies, “Think we can assume, that he thought because your Dad passed, that there was no one to hand it to.”

“We couldn’t have been the first family to lose a firstborn,” Lucy states, flipping open the book, and looking at more illustrations. “ Wait, look at this.” Cooper comes over, looking where Lucy is pointing at an illustration.

“Is that a stump?” Cooper asks, “It’s a stump with ruins and a head on it.” Lucy nods, sitting down and taking a long drink from the beer. “They were making sacrifices in the forest.” Cooper flips through the pages, finding one that depicted twelve stumps, each with different ruins carved on them, some had bloody heads, other loaves of bread, and fruit, but all unique.

***

Lucy and Cooper sit beside a fire pit, Cooper taking a draw from a cigarette before passing it to Lucy. Not thinking she takes it and takes a pull from it, eyes rolling at the pleasant buzz that settles over her. Her phone still in hand, more questions than answers swirling in the fire before her. She had called her Mom as they settled in, and Rose had danced around any answers, dismissing anything about the bible. She claimed to not know about the bible, or anything happening on the farm. Eventually telling her she needed to go.

“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised she didn’t know. Feels like no one actually knows what's going on.” Lucy said quietly, flicking the ash into the ashtray before handing it back to Cooper.

“Do you think Harris? Or Margie, have any ideas?” Cooper suggests, taking a puff of the smoke.

“That is my next stop I think. Tomorrow sometimes, see if there is anything else they haven’t told me.” Lucy sighs, rubbing at her face. “They had to know about the stumps. How does that relate to anything that’s been happening? The things we have both been seeing?”

The rest of the day had been helping with kids, discussing which fields to start in with Mark. Helping Dorothy with dinner, settling the kids, and making sure everything was closed up for the night. Lucy’s head had been spinning for most of it. She had more questions than answers, from what they could tell the bible had been handed down to the firstborn. But it hadn’t been handed to Lucy’s father Hank, or her. Tim had decided to stop, reasons unknown.

Cooper pulls her against his side, “I can’er your brain runnin’, and it’s much too late for that.”

“Just wish they'd told me. Wish, Tim had told me. Why keep all this a secret? Like it was clearly important to be carried around for so long.” Lucy snuggles in, enjoying his warmth.

“He hid it in the back of a shed, in a metal box, with a lock.” Cooper squeezed her, kissing the top of her head.

“Do you think he thought that if it wasn’t passed down to me, nothing would happen?” Lucy asks, her mind running over all the possibilities.

Cooper shakes his head, “I wish I knew Lucy, "More questions then answers."

“Thank you, for helping me,” Lucy says, her eyes closing, the long day catching up with her.

“Don’t have to answer, if yah don’t wanna,” Cooper murmurs, “What happened with your Mom?”

Lucy shrugs, “I am not sure, she dropped me off with my Grandparents. Haven’t really been in touch much since. She never came to the farm, we always went to see her wherever she was. Didn’t really think about it much till now.”

“Whatever the reason, we will figure it out, Lucy.” Cooper murmurs, the two continue to watch the fire.

***

Going down the stairs, Lucy made out Cooper’s voice, Richard’s, and another not as familiar. As she walks towards the dining room, she sees the men along with John Roth. The man was a good head shorter than Cooper, he had braided black hair down his back, tanned skin, and a black cowboy hat. He looks about the same age as Mark, maybe a few years younger. His eyes are a grass green, as he looks at Lucy with a small frown.

“Hello, Ms. MacLean,” John said, forehead wrinkling as he looks between her and Cooper.

“Hi, Umm, sorry I didn’t mean to interrupt.” Lucy tries to grin and moves towards the kitchen. “Just getting some breakfast.”

“Actually, Lucy. I think this involves you as much as anyone.” Richard said, gesturing for everyone to sit at the table.

Lucy grabs the pot of coffee and some mugs, knowing that the table would already have some cream and sugar. She put the mugs in front of each man, pouring each some and then herself. Before sitting down herself, looking at everyone. Well, Lucy thought, she had wanted to be a part of the adult table.

“I know, all of you have been through a lot this last year,” John said, fingers tapping at the sides of his cup before taking another sip of the coffee. “We’ve all suffered, unfortunately, a cow has been missing. One of our last to calve.”

Richard takes a sip watching John talk, Cooper puts his hand on top of Lucy’s knee. The warmth and weight reassuring her, grounding her to the moment.

“I was hoping to get your permission to go search through your land for her.” John asks, his green eyes shining in the light, “Harris has said that Bert could come help. It only be a few hours. I just need to know what’s happened to them.”

“Of course, John. I should have offered that, to begin with.” Lucy said softly. “I have two working four wheels, I know the woods I can take us through there.”

“Are you sure Lucy?” Cooper asks, looking more than a little concerned.

“Absolutely. If anyone is going in there I am coming with them.” Lucy responds, her voice sounding more confident than she felt.

Cooper grips her knee, “I am coming with you, we can cover more ground that way.”

Richard puts his cup down looking between the three of them. “I would offer, but I don’t know how far I’d get.”

“I appreciate all the help we can get, Nicole would come but she is nearly due herself.” John smile making his eyes crinkle at the corners. “It means a lot to me.”

“Not a problem, how about we meet at two? It gives us enough time to get things done around here, get some supplies, and plenty of light.” Cooper states, finishing his cup of coffee and pouring another.

“Alright, I will see y’all at two.” John nods, putting his cup down. “Thank you, again Lucy.”

“Not a problem, we’ll find your cows John,” Lucy replies, pouring herself another cup of coffee, and refilling Richards.

John grabs his hat, thanking everyone again for the help. Lucy busies herself with making breakfast, a list of what she needs to gather forming in her mind. Cooper helps Richard get comfortable in his recliner, the man murmuring about hating chemo.

Cooper comes over, grabbing his cup off the table, before coming into the kitchen. Lucy had toast on, knowing that chores needed to be done.

“You sleep okay?” Cooper asks as he puts on more coffee.

“Yes, thank you for letting me sleep in again.” Lucy replies, “Do you want some toast?”

“Think I am gonna do coffee, gotta make sure the chickens have water and food,” Cooper says, dumping the coffee in a to-go mug.

Lucy grabs his arm before he takes off, “Cooper, I-,” She bites her lip, “I am worried about this afternoon.”

Cooper stops, putting his mug down so he can turn to look at her fully, his hands gently grabbing both of her arms. “I know. And no ya ain’t gonna convince me nota come with yah. I am comin’ with, we will figure this out together.”

Lucy slumps a little, her mind running over to the kids, “I- I know it’s none of my business. I worry about the kids, after what happened on Friday. It’s all I've been thinkin’ about.”

He lets out a huff of air, looking away from her for a second. “I know. But I ain’t letting you go in there alone either.”

“I won’t be alone. Bert and John will be with me.” Lucy says, hoping that she sounds convincing. “I know the place well, I am sure we will find the cows in no time.”

Cooper shakes his head, “I already told'ya, I am comin.” He tips her chin up so they are looking at each other. “In and out, all of us.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

PART 11

*things are just gonna get crazier!

*want to be on the tag list? add your name below

@toogaytofunctiondangit , @hiddlebatchedloki, @whatsorceressisthis @dichromaniac @autumncryptids

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destiny-in-the-universe · 4 months ago

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Since no one is allowed to have nice things, this is for @thesoundofmadness and @shrimpsalot who were genuinely interested in my Bad End AU's

Bad End AU (Ver 1): Dark Ends

Bad End AU (Ver 2): End of the Line

Both of the titles are placeholders because I could not think of better names, but there you have it- one is honestly a doomed by the narrative trope and the other's, weelll, you'll just have to see and find it. If anyone's genuinely curious in a fully fleshed out ending, or wants additional infodump, shoot me a message!

Also, the second one is better viewed on laptop!

Until next time, my lovelies~

~ Destiny

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one-in-a-million-fishsticks-blog · 10 months ago

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Banished Fireheart AU

I am being perfectly normal about the fictional cat series right now and need to get this off of my chest.

What if when Bluestar banished Tigerclaw, she banished Fireheart too?

This AU would rely entirely on Bluestar losing her mind completely during her mental breakdown, but imagine that instead of trusting Fireheart more because he saved her from Tigerclaw and previously tried to warn her about the tabby tom, she takes the entire incident as proof that Fireheart's loyalty should also be doubted and decides to kill two birds with one stone?

This obviously makes zero sense, but Bluestar is beyond logic when she makes the decision, so to her Fireheart has already proved his own disloyalty by sneaking around and looking for answers behind her back.

AU timeline:

Blue banishes Tiger AND Fire

Fireheart is forced to become a rogue, obviously he can never live with being a kittypet again, so rogue life is his only option

Fire tries to contact other cats in Thunderclan, but he either can't reach them or they chase him away on Bluestar's orders, so he can't help them like he wants to

Tigerclaw becomes Tigerstar the 1st and the Riverclan/Shadowclan alliance happens

Fireheart decides to try his luck with Windclan, and Tallstar actually hears him out, but doesn't want to risk any potential alliances with Thunderclan by offering Fireheart shelter

Fireheart leaves Windclan feeling utterly defeated

Windclan refuses to align themselves with the River/Shadow alliance and Tigerclaw retaliates by executing several Windclan cats, including Gorsepaw

Onewhisker says "to hell with this!" and goes to find Fireheart, because at this point Bluestar has made her disinterest in alliances clear and Windclan needs more warriors to defend it, so why NOT take Fireheart in?

Fireheart is destroyed by the loss of Gorsepaw and his spirit very nearly breaks, but a heart-to-heart with Onewhisker motivates him to keep it together and he decides to return to Windclan with his friend

Tallstar officially names Fireheart as an ally and guest of Windclan

Graystripe comes looking for Fireheart because he needs help to rescue his kits and Sandstorm is the only other volunteer so far

Ravenpaw finds out what is going on through the gossip mill because it's Windclan territory and he is right there, how could he not overhear something?

Ravenpaw joins the raiding party against River/Shadow and reveals his identity to Windclan, who take the knowledge that he is a former Thunderclan cat pretty well

Onewhisker and Morningflower also join the rescue patrol

Tigerstar, who has been looking everywhere for Fireheart except in Windclan territory, expects sneaky and low-key resistance to come from Fireheart at some point: what he does not expect is for Fireheart to launch a full-scale raid on Shadow/River camp while he, Leopardstar, and a shitton of their cats are at the gathering

Fireheart is fucking feral at this point and decides that the warrior code doesn't apply to people that shove little baby apprentices in prison, he injures Blackfoot so badly that the wounds are almost fatal and outright kills two other cats himself. Morningflower also gets a kill in, Sandstorm blinds a Riverclan cat, and Onewhisker rips somebody's ear off in the ensuing fight while Graystripe and Ravenpaw help Stonefur and Mistyfoot evacuate Featherpaw and Stormpaw (this all happens before Tigerstar has the chance to publicly execute Stonefur)

Fireheart books it back to Windclan with his raiding party and their rescued kin

Tigerclaw realizes exactly what happened way too late and is furious, but he doesn't immediately march on Windclan because he has bigger fish to fry and still wants Thunderclan dead

The newly named Tigerclan moves to attack Thunderclan, but Windclan comes to their defense and the two sets of allied clans are temporarily forced into a stalemate

Tigerstar disappears to work on his strategy, this is when he makes the decision to try recruiting Bloodclan

Thunderclan is very confused but not ungrateful to Windclan for their help, and Bluestar rescends her previous decision to alienate Tallstar in a brief moment of clarity (Whitestorm is her deputy and has become her caretaker, doing his best to keep her comforted and alive)

Fireheart leaves immediately after the battle, not wanting his former mentor to see him there and snap again because he firmly believes that this alliance is more important than anything else right now. It kills him to leave without even seeing Cinderpelt, but he doesn't believe that it is possible for him to stay

Sandstorm tries following him at first but Morningflower stops her and goes instead while Graystripe explains the raiding party to Bluestar, who is almost too preoccupied by the presence of her kits to register the fact one of her warriors just admitted to Fireheart being involved in some capacity

Morningflower catches up to Fireheart and we get another emotional conversation, Fireheart let's her see just how much this entire experience has affected him and tries to apologize for not being there to protect Gorsepaw. Morningflower shuts his apologies down, firmly explaining in excruciating detail why he is the last cat that should be blamed for Gorsepaw's death. This is where a friendship really starts to form between the two, and Fireheart gets a much needed hug.

Bluestar reluctantly requests that Fireheart be brought to her after learning that he helped to rescue her kits, and Whitestorm comes to retrieve him, interrupting his talk with Morningflower

Bluestar grants Fireheart refuge and Thunderclan forms a joint camp with Windclan for safety reasons.

Bluestar and Tallstar decide to call their temporary alliance Lionclan

Lionclan makes plans to continue defending themselves

END OF PART 1

I really like this AU because I am a big fluff/angst person and the idea is ripe with those elements, I also really wanted a reason to retcon a lot of the Fireheart related decisions that the Erins made in later books, so this AU is now that reason. I haven't planned out how the rest of the first ARC will go down in this AU, but I do have some ideas for how this AU would carry into the Firestar's Quest timeline.

Some other random things about this AU:

Stonefur lives to become Stonestar, he is the leader of Riverclan during the great journey

Leopardstar is not allowed to remain leader after Tigerstar dies in this AU, and Blackfoot is removed from the deputy position permanently

Russetfur becomes Russetstar by popular clan vote, she is the new leader of Shadowclan

Bluestar still dies

Whitestorm becomes Thunderclan's new leader, I thought that Whitestar would make a good parallel to Blackstar

Mistyfoot is named as Stonestar's deputy

Fireheart comes very close to rejoining Thunderclan after Bluestar's death, but in the end it feels wrong to him that his banishment be broken over Bluestar's still cooling body, so he continues living as a guest of Windclan until the final battle is won and peace has returned to the forest

This is where we hit post first ARC/super addition territory:

After the first great battle, Fireheart feels as though he has finally fulfilled the prophecy by aiding Windclan and sees no reason to return to Thunderclan despite the way that his heart aches with the absence of Graystripe, Sandstorm, and Cinderheart.

Fireheart is selected by Tallstar to attend the first gathering after everything has settled down in the forest, and is happy to learn that while Stormpaw has rejoined Riverclan with Mistyfoot and Stonestar, Featherpaw has decided to remain in Thunderclan with Graystripe

Mistyfoot's three remaining kits have also all survived, and are doing well as apprentices in Riverclan

Tallstar announces to everyone that Fireheart has officially pledged himself to the black and white leader as a warrior of Windclan, this makes those of his Thunderclan friends who are present horribly sad, but there is also an undercurrent of melancholy understanding between them that prevents any ill feelings from taking root

Later that night in the warriors's burrow, Fireheart is restless as he dreams of Bluestar, tossing and turning in his nest beside Morningflower and Onewhisker as Bluestar tells the still-young warrior that Starclan isn't done with him yet and that he still has a destiny to fullfil

Ultimately Fireheart winds up receiving several more dreams and a few signs from Starclan IRL before finally taking the hint and seeking out the descendants of Skyclan. In this AU, he leaves Windclan solo but Sandstorm decides to sneak away from Thunderclan and follow him, she has been receiving some signs of her own and is frankly sick of her idiot friend trying to recover from all of his trauma with only his Windclan friends for support. The two bond after she saves his ass, and begin to develop a crush on each other (this is Fireheart's first real adult crush, his crush on Spottedleaf was a puppy crush and was never that serious).

Skyclan is eventually reformed, and Fireheart is chosen by Starclan to be it's new leader so that he can bring everyone back to the forest and train Leafdapple to one day succeed him.

They make it home and Fireheart visits the moonstone to become Firestar and receive his nine lives.

Fireheart and Sandstorm eventually become mates and Sandstorm officially joins Skyclan, they have three kits together, two she-kits and a tom.

The kits are named Leafkit, Squirrelkit, and Gorsekit.

The End (or is it?.....)

Author's Note: OC alert, he is a very minor character and barely shows up, but I thought that Fireheart and Sandstorm having an extra kit and naming it after Gorsepaw was the cutest thing in the world.

Ladies and gentlemen, Gorsetail has entered the chat (he looks like Sandstorm, but a bit darker and fluffier).

His main roll in the second ARC is to be the sibling that stayed home, because in this AU Leafpaw pulls a Stormfur and goes on the Journey with Squirrelpaw.

Gorsepaw the 2nd exists to be obsessively mother-henned by Firestar and Sandstorm, who refuse to let him starve and are constantly giving their own food to him as prey becomes scarcer and scarcer in the old forest.

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mugloversonly · 5 months ago

Text

Silver over Gold

Ch 3: Kintsugi - Final

Ch.1 Ch.2 AO3

Summary:

Steve and Eddie finally talk.

Steve stood outside Eddie’s door horrified by what he heard on the other side. Eddie was sobbing and his inner omega was whining weakly. “Eddie? Baby can I come in?” He pleaded.

“Alpha?” Eddie cried softly. “Door’s locked.” His voice was fading into a whisper. “I’m sorry alpha.”

Steve didn’t think twice about ripping the door of the hinges; he'd fix it later, he just hoped Wayne would understand. His omega needed him and his alpha would stop at nothing to help him (for once he was in total agreement). The smashing of the door echoed through the whole trailer but Eddie didn’t seem to notice. He was curled up on his side in the corner of the room with his head tucked against his knees, shaking violently. Steve rushed over to him and gently swept his hair out of his face. He gasped when he saw his beautiful omega. “Oh, Eddie.” He whispered. He was paler than usual, practically translucent. His lively chocolate eyes were red rimmed and puffy, empty as they stared up at him. Steve wasn’t even sure if Eddie could see him right now.

“I’m sorry alpha.” Eddie whispered. Steve stared at him hoping for some awareness in his eyes but there still wasn’t anything. He must be speaking unconsciously.

“Sh,” Steve cooed. “I’m right here, omega. Your alpha is right here. I'm not going anywhere.” He ran his hands up and down Eddie’s arms and kissed him on the forehead. His skin was freezing to the touch and if Steve didn’t know better he’d think he just came out of Lover’s Lake.

He took him into his arms, laid them back in Eddie’s nest, and removed their shirts for skin contact, pulling the blanket over them for good measure . Steve made sure to hold the omega’s nose directly onto his scent gland. He didn’t know much about rejection sickness, but from what he learned in school one way to cure it was through comforting touch and scents. Eddie barely moved and didn’t acknowledge Steve at all. Steve was having a hard time staying calm but the whines and howling of his omega were helping him to stay focused.

H is shivering finally subsided and Eddie fell into a light haze. He pulled back from Steve and his eyes were a bit clearer. “Stevie?” He asked. At Steve’s nod he threw himself back. He didn’t deserve to be held like this. He was a bad omega. His alpha didn’t love him and it was all his fault. Steve didn’t let him get far before he was yanking him right back in. He ran his fingers through his tangled hair and nuzzled his neck. “I’m sorry Steve. I should’ ve trusted you . I'm a bad omega.” He sobbed but Steve clapped a hand over his mouth.

“You're not a bad omega Eddie. You're my omega.” Steve said. He felt more than heard Eddie’s gasp and watched as his wet eyes widened. He reached up and pulled Steve’s hand off his mouth.

“I’m still your omega?” He whispered hopeful yet terrified.

“Yes, darling.” Steve replied caressing his cheek. Eddie put his hand over Steve’s and held it there.

“You still want to be my alpha? After everything I put you through?” Steve looked deep into Eddie’s eyes and kissed him on the nose.

“You didn’t put me through anything. I will always be your alpha. Even if you decided you wanted nothing to do with me, I will be here waiting. There is nothing you could do that would drive me away. I will never leave you.” He promised. “Let me apologize now.”

“No, Steve you don’t owe me anything.” Eddie said clutching his shirt. “I was the one in the wrong.”

“No you weren’t. I was scared. I didn’t stop to consider that I was stringing you along.” He bowed his head as tears finally spilled over. “I love you, Eddie. I never want you to doubt that. I’m sorry I didn’t say it sooner. And I’m sorry the first time I said it was in an argument.” He grabbed Eddie’s face and tilted it until their lips were barely a millimeter apart. “I would never lie to you. I know why you would think that. Wayne told me. Just know, that the most important person in my life, is right here in my arms. Okay?”

“Except Robin?” He knew it was shitty, but he needed to know.

“No my lovely omega. Even more important than Robin.” He kissed him then. A quick press of lips, there and gone in mere moments. “Robin is my best friend and I won’t stop loving her or change how she and I are with each other. But you’re my future mate, and nothing is more important than you feeling secure in us.” Eddie surged forward and kissed him hard practically shoving his tongue down his throat.

“I don’t want you to stop being friends with Robin or anything like that, Stevie. It’s just…” Eddie knew he had to let Steve hear some of this from him. “The pups constantly tell me how you two were made for each other and how it’s only a matter of time for you two to mate.” Eddie looked down. “I guess, with you wanting to keep it a secret and when I ask about courting you brush it off, mix that with Dustin asking me to find out if you’re secretly dating Robin and I thought it was only a matter of time before you stopped what we had and went with her. And when I saw you two together, I thought it finally happened and you didn’t even have the decency to tell me first.” His voice broke on that last word.

“Wait a second...the pups have been saying what?!” Steve yelled out startling the omega and causing him to whimper. “Sorry.” He took a few calming breaths before asking again. “The pups have been telling you that Robin and I are secretly together?”

“Basically.” Eddie admitted.

“No wonder you didn’t believe me.” Steve scoffed. “Don’t worry my love I’ll set the record straight as soon as I can.” He snuggled Eddie closer and kissed his hair.

“You don’t have to do anything you’re uncomfortable with Steve. Not for my sake.” He understood that it may be hard for Steve since he had only dated female omegas before. But his alpha just rolled his eyes.

“I’ll put an ad in the newspaper try me.” He laughed. “It’ll say something like: I, Steven Anthony Harrington am courting and plan to mate with the beautiful” he leaned over and nuzzled against Eddie’s scent gland causing the omega to giggle. “Wonderful, remarkable, one of a kind, Edward Wayne Munson.” He nipped lightly at his neck. “I will don’t tempt me.”

Light finally returned to Eddie’s eyes. “Thank you.” He whispered. Steve knew he was thanking him for much more but Steve didn’t want him to feel grateful that Steve treated him like a worthy partner.

“No thanks necessary. I’m not going to hide any more okay? In fact, close your eyes.” he said. When Eddie did so, he reached into his pocket to pull something out that he fastened around Eddie’s pale throat and kissed him softly. “Open.”

Eddie opened his eyes and gasped. It was the most unique courting gift he’d ever received. Pure silver because he mentioned to Steve once that it was his favorite precious metal. The pendant was a perfect copy of his warlock with small rubies creating the red lightening. As he took a closer look, he realized the neck of the guitar was actually Steve’s nail bat. It was the perfect combination of them.

His chest no longer felt tight and his nose tickled as his blood orange scent began pouring out of his scent gland. It was faint, but it was there. Steve beamed and pushed his nose to the source and took a big inhale. “Thank you, Alpha. I accept your request to court.” Eddie said in the traditional manner. He pulled away. “I’ll give you something I scented in return once it gets back to normal.” Eddie promised. Steve nodded and pulled him into another kiss. This one was more heated and while Eddie did feel better and the sickness was receding, he wasn’t ready to go very far. He leaned back slightly but stayed close so the alpha knew he was okay. “Is it alright, if we take it slow?” He couldn’t meet his eyes.

“Whatever you need.” Steve said tilting his head up. “What ever you want. It’s yours.” He said more like an oath than a promise.

“I threw away your yellow sweater. I’m sorry. I know it was your favorite.” He admitted ashamed. Steve slid away and for a second Eddie thought he was leaving, but before he could let out a single noise of protest he was getting hit in the face with soft cotton. In his hands was the best thing he'd ever seen.

“Wayne said he saw you throw it away and figured you were just upset.” Eddie smiled.

“He knows me so well.”

“I’d hope so, he is your dad and all.” Steve said. “Speaking of, I’d like to formally ask him to court you. I know you already said yes, but it’s traditional to ask an omega’s parent.” Eddie beamed.

“You really do love me, don’t you?” He asked.

“I do. I love you so much. I want to court you and mate with you. I want to see you round with my pups.” Steve replied and laid down pulling Eddie with him. “I want us to smell like one another so there’s no mistaking who we belong to.”

“How long have you had this necklace by the way?” Eddie asked the pendant clutched in his hand.

“Since right after spring break.” He admitted. At Eddie’s raised eyebrows he sheepishly said “I told you, I’ve wanted to court you for a long time.”

The two talked a bit more about their insecurities and about Eddie’s past trauma with alphas. When the alpha that hurt him came up again, Steve growled. “Give me a name.” The fire in his eyes would have scared Eddie if it was directed at him. But at the moment, it may have made him a bit slick. He’d never had an alpha want to protect him like this.

“If I tell you, can you promise you won’t do anything crazy?” Eddie asked.

“No.” Steve said. “I promised no lies.” He defended at Eddie’s snort.

“You did, you did. Okay, just promise you’ll be careful.” Steve agreed to that and motioned for Eddie to continue. “It was Tommy Hagan my first senior year.” He admitted. The scent of burning woods filled the his nostrils.

“When?” Steve growled. Had he still been friends with Tommy?

“We started courting in August. The heat we spent together was in November.”

“You were the omega he couldn’t shut up about?” Steve asked. Eddie shrugged.

“I guess. Weird that he couldn’t shut up about me when he cheated on me with Carol.” Eddie said meekly. The faint blood orange Eddie was finally emitting was turning sour and he was trying to pump out calming omega pheromones to calm Steve, but it didn’t seem to be working well due to the dull nature of it.

“Sorry, sorry.” Steve said as he willed himself to calm down. “It’s not important right now.” He stood and pulled Eddie to his feet.

“What is important is getting you checked out by a doctor. Let’s let Wayne know and we can go okay?” Steve asked. Eddie nodded and the two got dressed with some difficulty since they refused to let go of each other. Steve wore his yellow sweater so it would smell like him again and Eddie pulled on his favorite band tee. On their way out of the trailer they wrote a note for Wayne and Steve walked Eddie to the passenger side. He opened the door and kept a firm hand in Eddie’s until he was seated. Eddie watched on amused as Steve practically sprinted around the car so they could spend the least amount apart as possible.

~ ~~

At the hospital, the Doctor that saw him last time was able to see him again. “Eddie, this one could have killed you if your alpha hadn’t come when he did. To help you get back on your feet it’ll be good for the two of you to spend the next 48 to 72 hours together. Now for cases like yours we have a new type of medication that can stop rejection sickness from getting worse once it starts. I’m giving you a prescription for that. And I want you to go back to taking the preventive ones for a while.” He looked between the two men knowingly. “I’d say until you’ve mated. After that, you should be okay to stop them. But, keep the emergency one on you at all times. It could be the difference between life and death.” He said before leaving them with a nurse. She gave Eddie some fluids in an IV that were supposed to help him return to normal and then they were on their way.

“So, what now?” Eddie asked. Steve took his hand again.

“Let me take you out on the town? Then we can go back to the trailer and cuddle?” He asked. Eddie blushed and his blood orange scent finally filled the car in full force.

"I'd like that."

@v3lv3tf0x @lexirosewrites Final part!

That's a wrap on this one. But I do have plans to write some Robin POV and what Steve does the next time he sees Tommy.

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your3fundamentaltruths · 8 months ago

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So really, there was no urgent need to move up the wedding.

Except that he wanted to.

But what if he couldn't?

Or a book/show fusion AU wherein Colin’s devious plan to rush the wedding is overtaken by events entirely beyond his control.

Polin Week 2024 Day One: Favorite Quote

#polin week 2024 #polin #polin fic #colin bridgerton #penelope featherington #violet bridgerton #portia featherington #francesca bridgerton #angst #angst with a happy ending #virgin colin #alternate universe: canon divergence #an incandescent glow tarnished but so grand

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tisfortimm · 1 year ago

Link

Chapters: 16/16 Fandom: Teen Wolf (TV) Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Peter Hale & Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Allison Argent/Scott McCall Characters: Peter Hale, Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale, Laura Hale, Scott McCall (Teen Wolf), Allison Argent, Chris Argent, Kate Argent Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Canon, Post Hale Fire, Angst, Revenge, Grief/Mourning, Family, Adoption, Hurt/Comfort, Good Peter Hale, or more accurately, ruthlessly protective and out for revenge Peter Hale, kid stiles, for the first few chapters at least, BAMF Stiles, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Derek is Not a Failwolf, Kate Argent is the worst, Friends With Benefits, FWB to OTP, hunters featuring as serial killers, these tags are a mess and i'm sorry, Eventual Happy Ending Summary:

“Well,” Stiles says, “if they’re going to hunt werewolves, I’m going to hunt them.”

It’s a ridiculous statement from a ten-year-old, but he’s obviously one hundred percent sincere. For the first time since the fire, Peter feels life stir inside him, feels purpose. It’s kismet, clearly. He’ll never meet the child he would have had with Olivia. Instead he’s met this boy, this brilliant, determined, cynical child with a world of potential.

Peter kneels down in front of him so they’re at eye level. “How do you feel about doing that together?”

OMFG!!! How I adore this fic. The Stiles & Peter relationship is so good, even though the circumstances of it are like eeeek but it’s good. It’s reallly reallllly good. I love a good AU fic from time to time (like, all the time) and this ticks all the boxes!! I’ve also been on a Good Peter Hale kick, and this is just... *chefs kiss*

It’s 71.4k words and worth every seconds of the time it takes to give it a read through. It really is a great piece of work and if you haven’t read it, well... Why? Get to it.

(Also, if you’re weird about Sterek, it’s not the whole purpose of the fic. So, don’t sleep on it!!)

#sterek #good peter hale #peter hale #derek hale #stiles stilinski #eternal sterek #sterek is eternal #sterek au #teen wolf #sterek fanfic #sterek fanfiction #teen wolf fic #teen wolf au #alternate universe - canon divergence #angst with a happy ending #kate argent

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steddieunderdogfics · 2 months ago

Note

for hurt/comfort weekend if you still need recs: If He Ever Hurts You, by Castlewood_Bard on ao3

https://archiveofourown.org/works/40300488/chapters/102418014

If He Ever Hurts You by Castlewood_Bard

Rating: Teen and Up

16,193 words, 7/7 chapters

Archive Warning: No Warnings

Tags: Mild Gore, Blood and Injury, Canon Typical Wounds, Steve's injury from 4x7, steddie, First Kiss, The Upside Down, Vomiting, Hurt/Comfort, Whump, Alternate Ending, Eddie survives, Blood, cleaning wounds, Fluff and Angst, fluff later on, Flirting, Robin x Vickie in ch. 5, I wanted to give them some time to shine, Vampire Bites, Vampire Eddie Munson, Cuddling & Snuggling, Angst, Eddie’s injuries from 4x9, Episode: s04e09 The Piggyback (Stranger Things), Episode: s04e07 The Massacre at Hawkins Lab (Stranger Things), Love Confessions, Falling In Love, Post-Canon, Based on a Tumblr Post, (some of it)

Summary:

Eddie wraps Steve's wounds because that's what they both deserve. Steve, in turn, does the same and all the aftermath.

Thanks for the rec!

Know a fic that deserves extra love? Submit through our asks!

#steddie #steddie fic recs #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #stranger things #canon compliant #alternate ending #canon divergent #hurt/comfort #whump #love confessions #tw mild gore #vampire eddie munson

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ice-cap-k · 7 months ago

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Owen Had a Cough

Hey! Got a new story for part of the 2024 MCYT Horror Gift exchange ( @mcythorrorgiftexchange ). This is for the amazing @some-stupid-wannabe-artist. I hope I did your request justice. It was honestly a lot of fun. Been a while since I bothered with Rats.

It's longer than my old whumptober stuff, so feel free to read it on AO3 here: Owen Had a Cough

____________________________________________________

Owen had a cough.

It wasn’t that surprising, since Scott had found the other rat passed out at the entrance to the boiler room. His friend had been down there for a long time, breathing in air that had been festering in the quarantined room. The basement had been downright hazy with all of the airborne spores. And Owen, well, Scott figured the bigger rat had gotten off lucky if all he had to show for such a stupid stunt was a little cold.

He told Owen what would happen if someone went in there. The larger rat could be almost impossible to sway once he set his mind to something, so of course he decided to set his sights on fixing the infestation down there. First the bugs, then the fungus. Scott just wished his best friend had told him. Then he wouldn't have found him crawling on his belly four days since the last time they saw each other.

Other than that, though, the tinkerer seemed alright. He had apologized and admitted Scott had been right. Those words would have been like music to Scott’s ears if he hadn’t been worried half to death for the sake of his friend. Owen promised to never go down there again, which had given Scott some sense of relief, and life moved on.

The cats were still a problem. The people living downstairs still chased them and their friends whenever they ventured out of the attic. And just today there were tiny little termites they’d gone to the effort of rehoming. But hey, life in the attic was full of surprises, so even that was typically atypical. Despite looking half dead on his feet the morning before, the large rat was starting to bounce back.

He was even leading the way as they raced back up to the attic with the others. Claws scrabbled at the red carpets lining the halls. The trash talk was flowing freely, and the bathroom was in sight.

“Oh, come on. I’m already at a tactical disadvantage with this dress,” Martyn huffed. His claws hooked over the edge of the side table. Owen was already pouncing off the edge towards the mouse hole in the wall. There was no catching up now so Scott turned to help haul Martyn up. Willow and Crow passed by beneath the table legs, still aiming for the doorway.

“Thanks, Scott,” Martyn breathed. He smoothed out the wrinkles of his maid’s dress with padded fingers as Scott leaned against a nearby plant pot.

The ceramic was cool against the fur lining his bare back and the hall was quiet, save for the excited squeaks of the returning rats. The cats were nowhere to be seen. The human residents were busy elsewhere. They were free to enjoy themselves without worry for a little while. How everyone else wasn’t tired yet was beyond Scott. His lungs hurt from all the running on top of all the laughter. This place was making him soft.

“Of course,” he said absently, mind already back on the race. Even if he wasn’t physically keeping up, his eyes followed Owen as his best friend leaned out of the chewed-out hole.

“Oh no you don’t!” he squeaked as the two smaller rats passed beneath him.

Scott flicked his ears back as he watched Owen launch himself from the wall. His arms and legs splayed as he dropped. A star-shaped shadow passed over Willow and Crow. The two rats had just enough time to look up. They were already running, but Owen’s aim was true and he crashed into Crow with a pained WHUMPF! Both of them went rolling tail over ears across the floor, knocking over Willow in the process and leaving all three of them sprawled and groaning.

It was just a bit of roughhousing. They were rats. Scott himself had leaped off the tallest bookshelves in the library and safely landed paws first on the tile more times than he could count. Despite knowing that, though, concern drove him forward. He pushed off the pot and was leaning over the edge of the table in an instant. His eyes raked over the three for signs of injury. His ears twitched at the rustle of fabric behind him. Martyn was there, looking over his shoulders.

“Is everybody ok?” he called.

“I’m okay,” Willow called back almost immediately

Crow managed to untangle its limbs from Owens. It rubbed at its head with a paw, claws parting strands of red and black fur until Scott could almost make out its eyes. “Owww-ow-ow-owww,” it groaned. “That really hurt. I think you bruised my tail. What were you-”

Its words were cut off by a drawn-out, wet cough. While Willow and Crow brushed themselves off and stood up straight, Owen only rolled over. He curled up into a ball, pulling his knees up to his chest but unable to keep them there. His arms wrapped around his heaving midsection as his whole body shook.

His coughs were like nails on a chalkboard to Scott. Wet and shaking, they wracked his friend’s lungs and rattled his ribcage with each one.

It was easy to forget that Owen wasn’t at one hundred percent until moments like these. They weren't short either. The gaps between stolen intakes of breath were long and drawn out. The coughing fit seemed to last an eternity if eternity could be packed down and contained in the span of minutes.

“Are you okay, Owen?”

“Try taking deep breaths.”

“My mum used to say it helps to put your arms up over your head. If you can hear me, try that.”

Owen did try. It was a feeble attempt, but his arms only left his torso long enough for the tips of his fingers to reach his shoulders before another wheeze sent him curling back into himself.

So yeah, Owen had a cough.

Martyn whistled. His voice was quiet in Scott’s ears. “He really is getting sick. I suppose that’s what you get for not drying off after a dip in the pond.”

He didn’t answer. Only slipped off the edge of the table to rush to his friend’s side.

Let the others think that. If Owen hadn’t told anyone else about going past the plastic sheets in the basement, then it wasn’t Scott’s place to tell that story. Owen would be so angry if he thought Scott went around telling people things he might be too embarrassed to talk about.

“Come on now, Owen. Let’s get you up. You’re okay.”

His friend didn’t protest as he looped his paws under the taller rat’s armpits and pulled. Now he could feel firsthand the way every muscle in Owen’s body tensed and untensed with the dwindling coughs. The way his lungs practically vibrated around the fluid there. Getting Owen upright helped. His lungs didn’t have to work so hard to keep up. Scott let him go to see if he could stand on his own, and the hacking noises subsided. He looked tired out from all that effort, but at least his breathing had returned to normal.

“How are you feeling?”

“Better.” He sounded tired too.

“Ya sure,” Crow asked. There was still an edge of annoyance in its words, but it was duller now. Its tail was no longer whipping around frantically. Rather, Crow and Willow were standing close and shifting uncomfortably from side to side.

Owen nodded. The corner of his lips pulled back into a half smile. “I’m sure. Just needed a second, but I’m good.”

“Good. Then apologize.”

“What!?” Owen looked affronted. “Why?”

Crow crossed its arms in front of its chest. “Because you cheated.”

“Did not.”

“Did so!”

“Did not! I was just being creative and came up with a new way to beat you both.” Owen’s smile lengthened to a full-blown grin as he looked from Crow to Willow. “Besides, neither of us made it to the attic so it’s not like I won at your expense.”

“You could keep going,” Martyn chimed in from where he was still standing on the tabletop.

“Ah… I think it would be a good idea to call it a day,” Scott insisted. He wrapped a paw around Owen’s arm and gently tugged. “Let’s get behind the tub and up to the attic.

To his credit, Owen didn’t argue back or struggle. He looked too tired for that. Instead, the bigger rat let him tug him along and then kept going toward the top as Scott let him go. The tile was cool underfoot. The smell of floral soap was sweet and fresh. The path behind the tub was clear, almost like the bathroom itself was welcoming them home.

“I think that might be for the best. It’s been a long day,” Owen finally admitted, standing a little straighter as he strutted across the room. “It doesn’t really matter who wins anyhow.”

“Yeah, but I totally would have won,” Crow muttered, and Willow giggled.

Scott smiled. This was much better. He and the others were just about to follow Owen when the sound of scrabbling caught their attention. It was coming their way. Everyone tensed, turning to see the source of the noise.

So help Scott, if that was a cat on its way-

A familiar purple shape came bobbing down the hall towards them. Scott felt himself let go of the breath he hadn’t meant to hold while the others began to relax around him.

“Took you long enough, didn’t it,” Martyn shouted with a bark of a laugh.

The rat came to a stop behind Scott and doubled over. His breath was coming in heavy pants, despite the slow jog. The loser of the race that was no longer taking place. “Hey,” Acho finally managed to sputter as he reigned in his breathing. “What did I miss?”

___________________

Scott padded down the steps leading from his home to the main floor of the attic.

His flower garden was still alive, despite the incoming cold, and the vegetable patch he had managed to throw together was one of the rats’ main sources of food now that snow covered the ground. The sunlight coming through the attic windows was just enough for his plants to keep growing, and it made his new home feel a little bit closer to his old one.

Now that he had more than enough food for himself, he was consistently helping to keep everyone fed. Just earlier this morning he and Owen had sat down together for lunch. Scott had thrown together all the food. Now he was stepping away from his cooking pots with chicken soup, ready to be passed out to anyone looking for a warm meal.

He handed out full bowls to Oliver and Sniff, then Shelby, then Jimmy. With each rat fed, Scott had a nice chat to catch up before saying goodbye and moving on. When he stopped by Eloise’s art gallery, he was surprised to find El and Bek arguing inside.

“I’m sure he didn’t mean it like that,” Bek was saying. She leaned against the wall in between frames of paintings, watching El pace back and forth.

Not daring to say a word, Scott reached out and wrapped his knuckles against the side of the open doorframe. Thump thump thump.

The two rats looked up in surprise, only to relax as they realized it was only him. “Hey, Scott.”

“Hi!” He stepped into the room. “Brought some chicken soup.”

Bek’s ears perked up. She pulled away from the wall with a smile. “Oooh! That sounds quite good right now, actually.”

“I brought plenty for both of you. Here.” He held one bowl out to El. “And here.” Then he shuffled across the hollowed-out room to pass another to Bek. Both brightened as they took it.

“So, is everything alright?” he asked, glancing back and forth between the two. “You two looked pretty serious a second ago.”

Bek shrugged. She slurped loudly, drinking the broth directly from the edge of the bowl in loud gulps. Scott tried to offer a spare spoon, but she didn’t take it when he held it out.

“Bek, please…” Eloise groaned.

The shorter rat lowered the bowl and smacked her lips. “Sorry. I don’t think anything’s wrong. El’s just being weird about things again.”

“I am not,” the taller rat snapped. “If anyone’s being weird, it’s Owen.”

Scott rolled his eyes. “Is it his cough again?”

“No.” She said immediately, then hesitated. She silently weighed her words in her head, tail flicking restlessly before she amended, “Okay, yes, technically. He was definitely still coughing today, but that’s not the real issue this time.”

The cough wasn’t the issue? What scheme could Owen possibly be getting up to this time?

Scott folded his arms in front of his chest. “Then what was the issue?”

“He’s being weird. He’s acting really weird and I don’t like it. Me and Bek got back from a pantry run and when we walked into the gallery, Owen was just… I don’t know. Sitting in a corner in the lower level?” She flung her spoon towards the open door leading to the scaffolding platform and still bare white walls that were waiting for future masterpieces. “Like, there was nobody else here. He just had his head resting against his knees, arms wrapped around his legs, like he was taking a nap. The light was off too, so I didn’t see him right away.”

Bek shivered. “Gave me a real fright, when you turned the light on and he shot to his feet. You screamed.”

“So did you,” El shot back. “Neither of us saw that he was here until the light came on.”

Scott tilted his head. That certainly was… unusual. “Okay. Yeah. You’re right, that’s weird. What was he doing?”

“See!” Eloise straightened. She dropped the spoon back into her soup so she could scratch at the side of her head with free claws. “That’s what I asked him. All he said was that the dark felt nice, and then he rushed out.”

“Felt nice…?”

“We’ve been trying to figure out what he meant by that for the past half hour,” Bek added. “Eloise’s convinced the human girl slipped him some potion that’s turning him nocturnal-”

“We’ve already had to deal with potion issues. I don’t understand why you think it’s so far-fetched. I still vividly remember getting turned into a CAT of all things!”

“But I think whatever cold he caught is just making him tired.” Bek finished.

He waited patiently for either of them to continue. For them to take the conversation somewhere else, or break into laughter and call it all a joke. When they didn’t, he awkwardly twitched his tail. They were both looking at him expectantly, waiting to see how he would reply. “Uh, I think Bek might be onto something.”

“See!”

Eloise was still balancing the bowl of soup in one paw, but she threw the other into the air and groaned. “Fine. Sure. I know mine sounds crazy in comparison, but neither of you saw his eyes. I swear, they were glowing when he looked at me.”

Bek scoffed. “Eyes don’t glow.”

“His did,” El insisted. “I swear, they really were glowing. Owen’s eyes aren’t supposed to be bright blue like that.”

Her words sounded sincere. There wasn’t a teasing bite, or smile pulling at the side of her lips. No twitch in the corner of her eye from struggling to keep a straight face. She was serious.

Scott’s tail went ramrod straight. “Blue? You’re sure?”

She nodded. “Absolutely.”

“Did either of you think to go after him to check if he was alright?”

The two girls exchanged side glances before turning back to him and answering in unison. “No.”

Of course they hadn’t.

Scott brought his paw up to his forehead. He pressed his palm against the center of his forehead as if it could chase away the headache that was starting to develop there. He took a deep breath in and sighed. “Which way did he go? I think I’m going to go check up on him and make sure everything’s alright.”

“He turned right when he ran out the door,” El said. “Not sure where he went, since he didn’t stick around long enough to let us ask. We’ll go with you and help you look for him.” She stepped forward. The now cold bowl of soup was placed on a nearby shelf next to the bowl Bek had just finished emptying.

“We will?” Bek asked.

El nodded once more. “We will.”

Scott was grateful for the help. He didn’t argue as both girls followed him out of the gallery. With more eyes searching, they checked high and low across the attic. As they went, Scott dropped off more bowls of chicken soup and asked around if anyone had seen which way Owen went. It was Oli who eventually pointed them in the direction of the little food mart.

Sure enough, Owen was inside the brick build rummaging through the chest inside. He pulled out a rather limp-looking bunch of lettuce leaves and began to nibble as they spotted him.

“Owen,” Scott called. He rushed to the door with Bek and El hot on his heels. His best friend turned, eyes wide. They were notably not blue.

“Hey guys,” he greeted, waving the lettuce in his paw at them. “What’s up?”

“We were looking for you.”

“Yeah!”

Eloise shoved her way forward. “What is wrong with you?!?” She had to squeeze into the small mart to do it, and the room was starting to get too cramped. Bek tried to follow, but she was too wide to fit in the small space and quickly gave up. Instead, she pressed herself against the glass window and watched with ears pinned back against her head.

“Wh-” “Eloise and Bek told me that they saw you napping in the art gallery,” Scott supplied.

“Oooooh, so that’s what you mean…” He looked a little sheepish as he put the leaves in his paw on top of the chest. “I wasn’t napping. I was just, you know… enjoying the dark.”

Eloise planted one paw on her hip. “You know that makes no sense whatsoever, right?”

“Don’t know what to tell you. It just felt nice. Good on the eyes, and the wall felt cool. It’s not like I thought much about it-” Before Owen could finish his sentence, Scott could hear the breath catch in his chest and rattle. The big rat doubled over, and both Scott and El backed away to give him space. Owen kept his elbow firmly over his mouth as the watery coughs took hold. When he finally managed to reign his breathing back in, he lowered his arm and opened his eyes.

Scott could have sworn he saw the briefest flicker of blue. Or maybe green? Something bright and alien to Owen’s dark eyes. But the color was there and gone in the blink of an eye. Had he just imagined it? Perhaps it was a trick of the light?

“Well, maybe you should go back to your clock and take a nap,” El snapped. She looked disgusted as she backed out of the room. “Get some good rest and get over that cold.”

Owen let himself slump against the side of the food chest. “That… that might not be a bad idea,” he admitted. “The going back to the clock part. No promises on the nap.”

Where seconds ago Owen had seemed content and full of life, the sudden coughing fit appeared to have drained all of that out of him. He looked tired now. Drawn out. Like some of the color had leached right out of him. It hadn’t even been that violent or lengthy of a fit. He often had much worse as of late.

Not to be put off by Eloise’s reaction, Scott readily offered his paw out to Owen. “How about we all go back to your clock? I’ve got plenty of chicken soup you can have if you get hungry.”

“That does sound pretty nice...”

Owen took his offered paw, and Scott tried not to focus on the way Owen’s fingers felt clammy and cold between his claws.

____________________

Christmas time was getting close and the attic was abuzz with excitement. Plans for a Secret Santa gift exchange were underway. All the rats were finding themselves a part of the holiday season rush as they prepared their gifts.

Martyn had taken charge of this one. He had set up the whole event, convincing everyone that the best way to celebrate the Christmas season was with homemade gifts from the heart. He had set up the raffle to decide who would be giving their gifts to whom. He was the one who had set up the post box outside of the bar for everyone to submit their names for the event. He had even done up the entire building in some of the most over-the-top seasonal decor Scott had ever seen and the farm rat was loving it.

Tis the season, and Scott was embracing it as much as anyone. He had already planned on giving a gift to everyone, but there was no way he was going to turn down the opportunity to join in on a Secret Santa. That just meant that the name on his list would get two presents instead of one. Scott was ready to go all out for it.

Yes, it seemed like the holiday season had started to help some of the rats calm down and put to rest some of the old squabbles that had been going on for some time now. They had something to focus on, nice deeds to do, super cute decorations to put up, and the occasional visitor coming in from the cold outside to make their day a little more topsy turvy. That was where most of the excitement came from nowadays: the random people who just sort of showed up. Other than them, life in the attic was pretty peaceful.

So Scott was surprised when, late one night when he was ready to drop off his note at the bar post box, he heard frantic shouting and horrible retching noises.

He froze about ten paces away from the bar. His fingers clutched tight around his book as something slammed and there was another shout. What on Earth was going on?

He swiveled his ears to get a better listen. That was Martyn’s voice. What he thought was incoherent shouting turned into panicked, somewhat broken words.

“Oh geez. I can’t believe… Ugh! Oh, come on! Why you… I just- You know, you’re lucky I don’t bar you from the bar again. Keep it in the can. That’s it. Deep breaths… There you are. Oh! Uh… Good lord! That’s so gross. You know, I’ve already got one crime seen taped off at this establishment! I don’t need another!”

Martyn’s babbling was repeatedly broken up by the sound of someone gagging and the splash of something wet hitting metal.

Scott crept forward on soft paw steps. He was not sure what he had stumbled upon, but Martyn sounded close. Keeping his tail low to the ground and book against his chest, Scott inched his way around the side of the building until he could make out Martyn’s back in the dim lighting.

Martyn’s ears were pinned against his head. His tail twisted with discomfort, and his eyes were looking everywhere but at the figure slumped over the tin can next to him. He was rubbing his scarred arm back and forth along their back like he was trying to comfort them, but the motions were stiff.

Another retch split the air. Another sound like a garden hose being switched on, and the figure’s shoulders heaved. Martyn flinched.

“You didn’t even have anything to drink,” the barkeeper mumbled.

“Is everything alright?” Scott called.

Martyn patted the other person’s back once more before turning to face him. He looked queasy himself. “We’ve got a bit of a mess in the bar right now,” he said with a grimace. “I wouldn’t suggest going in there at the moment.”

“And who is that? Are they alright?”

“It’s Owen,” Martyn said simply.

Sure enough, the next gag turned into a cough so ragged it sounded like ripping fabric.

“And I’m gonna be honest, I don’t know if he is alright,” Martyn continued. “He came here asking about details for the Secret Santa. Seemed fine one moment, and then threw up all over the entryway the next. And the counter. And my back room when I tried to bring him out here.” He gestured towards the bar’s back door. There were a few wet spots near the doorway that Martyn pointed to that Scott didn’t want to focus on too closely. “And before you ask, I didn’t pour him so much as a glass. Alcohol’s got nothing to do with this one.”

“I can believe that,” Scott nodded. He dared to inch closer. A sour smell hit his sensitive nose when he came within a tail’s length of the two other rats. Sure enough, it was Owen. His goggles had been tossed to the side, out of the way as his head hung in the tin can Martyn was using as a rubbish bin. His clothes looked crumpled and wrinkled. His tail and ears hung limp. “Oh, Owen,” he breathed, already pitying his poor friend.

“Hey, Scott…” Owen’s words echoed and warped around the edges of the can. His voice sounded small.

“Are you feeling worse?”

“I’m fine.”

Martyn snorted. “Tell that to my carpets.”

Owen’s ears drooped a little bit lower. “Sorry about that.”

The apology seemed to take Martyn off-guard. Owen didn’t normally apologize so easily. Not without a couple of jokes or light teasing mixed in for good fun. It made Scott want to ask his friend ‘What’s wrong with you,’ but he knew he probably wouldn’t get an honest answer, let alone an honest one.

“That’s alright,” Martyn finally said, giving Owen another gentle pat on the back. “I’ll just clean it up-” Owen pitched forward into the can again and dry heaved. Martyn yanked his paw away and stuck his tongue out, clearly struggling not to gag as well. “I’ll clean it up later. Blegh!”

Scott stepped up to place his paw on Owen’s shoulder. His grip tightened slightly when Owen’s heaving stopped and his friend relaxed into his grip. “You go ahead and clean up your bar now, Martyn. I can stay out here with him for a while.”

Martyn’s blue eyes narrowed at him. He almost looked relieved as he glanced back and forth between Owen and Scott. Only the twitching of his tail tip hinted at his hesitance to leave Owen while he was still like this. “You sure?”

“It’s fine. He’s my best friend. I can watch him.”

That seemed to be enough to convince the barkeeper. “Thanks, Scott. I’ll come back out here once I take care of Owen’s mess.”

“I didn’t mean to,” Owen grunted into the can.

“I know,” Martyn said before stepping back into the bar and pulling the back door closed behind him.

The back of the bar was quiet for a moment. The only noise was the slight scrape of Owen’s nails against the bin and the rise and fall of their breathing. Scott was half afraid that if he tried breaking the silence, the pause in Owen’s coughing and retching would end and all of his troubles would come rushing back. Instead, Scott lowered himself onto the floor where there didn’t seem to be any suspicious-looking puddles. He crossed his legs out in front of him and pressed one shoulder against Owen’s side.

It was Owen who broke the silence first. “Why are you here, Scott?” His voice didn’t sound so small this time.

Scott shrugged. “I was going to turn in my book for Secret Santa when I heard the commotion.”

“Oh…”

“You?”

“Something similar. I wanted to talk to Martyn about the chances of someone not being able to make it to the gift exchange.”

“What did he say?”

“That a gift could be given to someone else who can give it to the right person on the day of. Or we could just arrange to swap gifts with a delivery. I didn’t get the chance to ask him about when it would get delivered.”

“Oh.”

They fell into silence once more. A moment passed where Scott could feel Owen shiver. His muscles locked up and claws dug into the rim of the can. Scott braced himself for the sound of gagging, but it never came. Owen’s breath quickened, then gradually slowed back down. His muscles untensed, and the threat passed. As he relaxed, he let himself slide down the side of the can to sit next to Scott.

When Scott looked over, his dark eyes flickered blue-green in the low light.

“I really think I might be okay now,” he said slowly. “I think the worst of it has passed.”

“You should still stay right here, just in case. I don’t think you should be taking any chances right now.”

Owen winced. “I think that’s fair.”

“You’re sick.”

“Maybe,” Owen huffed. Even now, he couldn’t sit back and accept that it might be true. “I could have just had something bad to eat.”

“What have you eaten so far today?”

Owen’s face instantly fell into a regretful frown. “Or maybe not. It probably wasn’t the food.”

“Why? What all did you eat?”

“The last thing I ate was the dinner you offered me.”

Scott had prepared a nice picnic basket with cabbage rolls, fruit salad, and ratatouille. They had enjoyed a nice outing on Owen’s balcony, bundled up against the brisk winter chill. They were all dishes Scott had made countless times before. None of them could possibly have made Owen that ill.

Before Scott could ask him about lunch, the other rat hunched his shoulders and started coughing once more. It was gargled and sharp. The ripping noises that shook his lungs were enough to make Scott want to pull his chef’s hat down over his ears to keep the sound out. As the sound of Owen's hacking grew weaker and eventually died out, Scott watched Owen turn to spit into the can.

“Your cough doesn’t seem to be getting any better,” Scott mused.

“I know…” he said, annoyance and exhaustion evident in his voice. “It’s such a pain and it won’t go away.”

“Have you been resting?”

“As much as normal.”

“Any more weird instances of hiding in dark rooms?”

“Scott…” Owen’s tone was bitter.

“I’m not going to complain. Getting a few more naps in would be good for you. So have you?”

“Maybe, but it’s not napping.”

“Uh-huh.” Scott didn’t believe him. “It’s winter, Owen. You never really stopped to slow down after you went into the basement. I think if you want it to get any better, you should take a few days and stay in bed.”

Rather than complain, or wave Scott off and say that he was fine, Owen seemed to seriously consider his words. His arm snaked over his waist. He clutched at his stomach like it was threatening to spill its contents again. “Do you think that would help?”

“I don’t think it would make anything worse to try.”

Owen brought his head up only to let it fall back against the can. Thunk! “Aw, but it’s going to be boring staying in bed all day.”

“Don’t worry about that. I’ll come to visit. And so will the others. We’ll keep you busy while you take it easy.”

“You promise?”

“Promise.”

“Good. Can we get out of here now, then? I think I want to go home.”

Scott pointed to the paw still wrapped around Owen’s waist. “Are you feeling any better?”

“Honestly…yeah,” he said. The grip he had on his stomach loosened. “It doesn’t feel like my stomach is on the edge of bursting anymore. It kind of feels stable now, you know?”

“Mm-hm,” Scott hummed. He bumped his shoulder once more against Owen’s and then unwound his legs so he could stand up. “I’ll go tell Martyn we’re going to get you home.”

The barkeeper hadn’t made his way back out to them yet. Scott had a feeling it would be a while before Martyn finished cleaning his bar up. While Owen and Martyn didn’t always see eye to eye, Martyn would probably appreciate being told that they were leaving. The alternative would mean heading out without saying a word and letting Martyn come back to an empty back of the bar and no clue whether Owen was alright. Considering how he had been trying to comfort Owen when Scott first got here, it was probably safe to assume Martyn would appreciate the heads-up.

That and Scott still had his book to drop off. He was already here, after all.

Owen thumped the back of his head against the can once more. He tilted his head back so he could smile appreciatively up at Scott. “Thank you.”

“And I’m going to ask if he has a bag or something we can take with us, in case you get sick again on the way back.”

The smile fell into a frown so suddenly, that Scott couldn’t help but laugh.

He brushed his dungarees off as he stood. His tail, cramped from being sat on for so long, gave an experimental wave to work the pins and needles out. Then he picked his way past Owen and the can.

Some morbid curiosity took hold of Scott at that moment. Before he reached the door, his gaze passed over the rim of the rubbish bin. It was still pretty dark, but he could make out the wet shine of the puddle at the bottom.

Scott was no doctor, but he guessed that the dark red tinge to it wasn’t natural. Not considering what Owen had claimed to eat most recently. Nor were the fleshy, glowing cyan chunks floating on top.

___________________________

Owen was finally getting some rest.

Scott didn’t even have to beg him to stay in bed. He didn’t have to pester his friend with apologies and nervous requests to stay put. Owen didn’t fight him on anything anymore and didn’t complain about being cooped up in his room at the top of the clock.

That’s how bad it was.

It had Scott on edge.

The farmer rat couldn’t sit still. He busied himself coming over to visit all the time. Owen’s clock wasn’t messy, but Scott busied himself trying to clean some of the lower levels. He chewed on chunks of wood and wool, shaping them into nice things he could work into his Christmas gifts for the others. And when he ran out of ideas for things to do with what was already here, he took it upon himself to bring his hobbies closer and reduce his number of trips away from the clock.

Owen didn’t have a kitchen, but that didn’t stop Scott from hauling over his pots, pans, or even an entire stove so he didn’t have to stray too far to cook up a few meals.

Most bowls and platefuls went to the many rats who came to visit their bedridden friend. It gave them a chance to stick around longer if they had a meal at the ready. Some meals were brought up to Owen. Soups proved especially difficult to carry while climbing up the gears to Owen’s room, but Owen was always grateful to Scott for bringing them. A few dishes were whipped up purely for himself. A rat’s gotta feed himself, too.

Every time he poked his head into the dark bedroom, he would catch a flicker of blue-green before Owen registered that he was there and would greet him. Once, Scott made no attempt to make his presence known when he entered the bedroom. He didn’t knock against the door frame or call out, assuming that Owen would simply spot him in a moment or two. He did not. Scott waited, and waited, and watched as Owen simply stared at the blank wall. There was nothing to see. It was too dark for him to make out the natural grain of the wood. His unfocused eyes stared, and now Scott fully believed Eloise’s claim that Owen’s eyes glowed in the dark.

And yes, Owen still had the cough.

A couple of days on bed rest seemed to have no effect on the malady. If anything, it was worse. They kept a thimble on the side of the bed at all times now. When Owen felt a coughing fit coming on, he would reach for the bucket and hold it close. As the coughs shook his body, he would sometimes cough up… something.

The first time Owen coughed it up, they hadn’t thought to have the thimble nearby. His friend had done the best he could and leaned over the side of the bed when something solid and wet went splat against the wooden floorboards. Scott had to clean that one up. Whatever it could have been was solid. Soft, but solid. Pulpy. It was always an unnatural mix of teal and orange.

Funny. He normally liked those colors together. Now though… This wasn’t cute.

The night behind the bar had been dim, but he still recognized it as the stuff he had seen in the tin can.

Scott had no clue what it was supposed to be.

After that, Scott made sure Owen had a thimble at all times. He instructed his friend to cough into it whenever he could. Then Scott could take care of the mess later.

That proved to be somewhat difficult. Not even trash rat would bother with it. They were banned from tossing it in his dumpster. Scott was left to try digging shallow holes in the frozen ground outside to bury it or burn it in the family room fireplace when the coast was clear of cats.

He came back from one of those expeditions to find Eloise and Bek standing outside Owen’s clock.

“How’s he doing?” El asked as he approached.

Scott shrugged. “He’s still sick. Still coughing.”

“That bites.” Bek kicked her bare foot against the floorboard with a frown. She cast her gaze across the rest of the attic, eyes lingering on their neighbors’ homes. “It’s a shame there are no doctors up here.”

“I agree. None of the home remedies that we used on the farm are working.” He patted his palm against the thimble. Claws clicked against its side on impact. “I just got done emptying this for, what? The fourth time today? You don’t suppose the humans downstairs have some medicine?”

Eloise tilted her head. “That work on rats? I doubt it.”

“Want some help?” Bek offered.

El reached into her pocket and pulled out something that looked like a covered bowl. Through the see-through top, Scott could make out a bright red-ish orange liquid sloshing around. It was thicker than water or juice. As she held it out towards him, something spicy made his nose twitch. “Yeah. As I said, no doctors here, but I had a thought,” she said. “How about a home remedy? Back in the city, there were these places that sold food. And in their kitchens, they had all these pretty bottles of tasty sauces. There was one my family would use whenever we got sick. Called it hot sauce. Burned going down, but it helped clear the sinuses.”

Scott tilted his head. “He’s coughing, El. Not sneezing or blowing his nose. I’m not sure that will work.”

“Aren’t those things normally connected?”

“Are they?”

“Probably,” Bek chimed in with a noncommittal shrug.

Scott’s tail lashed as he considered his options. That stuff smelled pretty strong. She called it a sauce, so it was like food. “He’s supposed to eat it?”

Eloise nodded. “We would put it on our dinner.”

At worst, they could run to get Owen some milk if it was too hot. He didn’t think a bite of something spicy would necessarily make the cough worse.

“Sure,” he relented. “I guess it’s worth a shot. Come on. Let’s run it by Owen and see what he thinks.” He waved towards the opening at the base of the grandfather clock and started padding towards the entrance. The three of them shuffled inside, only to be greeted by the muffled sound of coughing. Scott sighed. “There he goes again.”

“He sounds worse,” Eloise said, tipping her head to look up past the levels of gears lining the inside of the clock.

“It’s dark, too,” Bek noted. “Is he doing that thing where he hides in the dark?”

“He’s still in the bed. Not hiding,” Scott supplied. “But the dark seems to help.”

She clicked her tongue. “Rather odd.”

He wasn’t about to disagree.

The two girls waited long enough for him to grab a bowl full of chicken soup from his pot. They could put the sauce into that for Owen to try. Then they scrabbled up the gears to the sound of Owen’s hacking and wheezing. It drowned out the sound of their claws scraping against brass and nickel. It took a few leaps, and both El and Scott had to help Bek pull herself up the last ledge.

Owen was still coughing as they reached to top. Scott’s ears drooped as he heard a pained wheeze between intakes of breath. He could tell the sick rat was getting tired.

“Owen!” Scott called as he led the two girls toward their friend's room. “You alright? Eloise and Bek came by.”

“Hey th-” Owen couldn’t even finish up the greeting as they stepped into the room. He was curled up in bed, gripping the covers as he leaned over and shook with each raspy breath. Scott picked up the pace until he was at the bedside, holding the thimble out for his friend. Owen took it with a shaking paw. He gripped it in his lap, but this bought appeared to only be a cough.

When it finally began to slow, Owen took a deep, deliberate breath, and breathed out a “Hi.”

“You look worse than something one of the cats coughed up,” Bek said bluntly. El smacked her shoulder and Scott pinned back his ears, but Owen smiled at the jab, so the farm rat didn’t audibly gasp in horror like he wanted to.

“I’d rather take getting chewed out by the cats at this point,” Owen said, his voice all but shot.

“No you wouldn’t,” Scott corrected. Owen didn’t argue.

“Well,” El started, holding out the covered bowl of hot sauce for him to see. “I brought something with me, that might be able to help.” Again, she explained what was in the bowl. How it was spicy and full of flavor. How at her old home they would use it to help clear their stuffy noses and make it a little easier to breathe.

Then Scott showed him the bowl of broth he brought up. “I brought some soup we could mix it into if you think it’s worth a shot. It should tone down some of the flavor and make it easier to eat.”

Owen wrinkled his nose. “Not the biggest fan of spicy food, but if there’s a chance it’ll work then it’s worth a shot.”

“You sure,” Eloise and Scott asked at the same time.

He nodded and reached out towards the bowl in Scott’s paw. “Got a spoon?”

Of course Scott brought a spoon.

Eloise popped the cover off her bowl and tilted it. Scott brought the broth underneath the rim to catch a few drops before swirling the angry orange sauce in. Since El was the one who knew about the home remedy, he let her judge how much to put in. She let a few more drops dribble into the broth before pulling back her bowl and covering it back up.

“That should probably be enough,” she said with a flick of her tail tip. “Don’t want to overdo it.”

“How spicy is it,” Owen asked nervously.

“It is hot sauce, so pretty spicy.”

Owen slunk a little deeper under the covers. “What if it’s too hot?”

“Well, you want it to be hot if it’s going to work.”

“Uh… Actually… I don’t know about this anymore, guys.”

Bek snorted. “Don’t be such a baby.”

“I am not! Fine.” In the blink of an eye, Owen snatched the soup bowl and spoon out from Scott’s paws. “This better work,” he grumbled, before ladling a spoonful of the liquid into his mouth.

Scott held his breath for a moment as he watched Owen swallow. His friend blinked rapidly at the taste, clearly uncomfortable. But he went for another spoonful and downed that as well. He handed it back to Scott with more than half the broth left.

“Feeling any better?” Bek asked brightly.

He held up one claw as if asking her to wait. His face contorted against the heat. His breathing became heavy and drawn out, but that was good, wasn’t it? Those were the deepest breaths Scott had heard Owen manage in a while.

“Did it help?” he pressed when Owen didn’t answer.

In less than a second, Owen’s demeanor changed. He went from tense patience, face screwed up with discomfort at the taste, to twitching and thrashing silently. So silently, in fact, that they even couldn’t hear him breathe.

Scott’s blood ran cold.

Owen wasn’t coughing anymore. Wasn’t gagging. He was wheezing. Gasping. Ribcage rattling. Convulsing. his back arched. He writhed beneath the blanket so wildly that it knocked the covers from the bed entirely. Both paws went to the base of his neck and gripped at the soft tissue there, claws raking along the exposed surface. Angry red marks flared up against his skin, visible beneath his fur.

“Oh my god he’s choking,” Bek shrieked.

Her words hit Scott hard, knocking his brain back into action. “H-how?!?! It was just chicken broth!” He didn’t understand. There weren’t any noodles or chunks of chicken or vegetables to worry about swallowing.

He dropped the bowl and spoon in his paws, not caring when they clattered to the floor and sent broth splattered everywhere. It didn’t matter. What mattered was getting his best friend breathing again. Scott reached under Owen’s armpit and hauled the other rat closer to the side of the bed where the rest of them could reach him more easily. He bucked in Scott’s grip. He almost completely lost his hold on the other rat’s arm as Owen kept reaching for his neck. Not sure what else to do, Scott started pounding on Owen’s back with the base of his palm, praying it would knock his airwaves free. “What could he possibly be choking on?!”

“No no no! You’re doing it wrong.” Bek shoved him to the side and took over, wrapping her arms around Owen’s chest from behind. The back of his head nearly smashed into her forehead as he struggled to breathe, but she gripped tight. “You gotta do it like in the movies.” With that, she started pounding her fist up and in just below his sternum.

Scott was grasping at straws. Reacting instinctively without knowing what would help or why. Let alone how this could have gone so wrong. He rushed around the bed to the other side so he could face Owen. He passed El, who still stood shaking against the wall. He’d ask her to help, but what could she do, really?

Scott crawled up onto the bed with Owen. He intended to hold Owen’s paws to keep them from knocking into Bek as she continued to attempt to force out whatever was caught in his throat. Before he reached out, though, Owen shifted his paws from scratching at his throat to clawing at the sides of his mouth.

There, just visible past the foremost incisors, something was glowing at the back of Owen’s mouth.

Something teal. Something orange.

Thoughts of the fleshy thimblefuls Scott had been doing his best to throw away swam to the forefront of his mind. The glow shook and strobed with every desperate attempt for air. The lumpy shapes the glow emanated from shook and wobbled as Owen opened his mouth wider and wider. Scott’s muscles locked up. He couldn’t have willed himself forward if he wanted to. Couldn’t think straight enough for it to occur to him to try. He watched as Owen tried reaching into his own mouth with desperate claws and scraped at what was inside.

Bek gave another heave, knocking Owen’s paw away from his mouth with enough force for his flailing claws to rip a tear in his lip. Something hooked on his claw came loose, and with a wet plop, it fell onto the bedspread in front of Scott.

It looked like part of a mushroom cap.

A very familiar teal mushroom with glowing orange splotches.

Something clicked in the back of Scott’s numb mind that this was probably what had been in those thimbles, although less smashed up and not swimming in bile. This cap was far more sturdy. He could still make out the delicate edges of gills lining the underside. The damaged end was blackened and wilted. The entire piece still glowed, despite being severed from the rest of the larger body.

He had warned Owen about those awful mushrooms.

Why couldn’t his friend have just trusted him and gone through with burning it?

“It’s not working,” Bek cried. She let go of Owen, cradling her wrists. Bruises were already becoming visible there beneath pale fur.

Scott blinked.

Owen was reaching with one paw for his mouth again. The glowing shapes there were clearer than they were a second ago. More sharply defined. Larger. Scott could hardly believe what he was seeing as caps pressed against the backs of Owen’s teeth, threatened to grow out right past his lips. Owen was grabbing at them. Clawing at them. Pulling fistfuls of crushed mushroom stems and caps. Scott reached forward with a half-baked thought to help rip more away, but Owen smacked his paw away before he could get close. Owen’s other paw was reaching up towards some unseen point on the ceiling with eyes that were glassy and blank. Color flickered in the pupils.

Orange, teal, orange, teal, orange, teal…

Scott whirled to look at Eloise. “GO GET HELP!!!”

She hadn’t so much as moved from her spot by the wall. At Scott’s words, her shocked face blanched. She was shaking in fear and reached for Bek like the smaller rat was a lifeline. “WHO DO I GET!?!”

“I DON’T KNOW!”

POP!

Owen fell limp.

Scott turned back to stare down at his best friend, too frozen in shock to move, dread pulsing through his veins where his heart stopped beating. “Owen…” he whimpered. The name sounded fuzzy to his ears through the radio static of his own thoughts.

Owen’s chest was moving. Barely, but it was. Scott could see it rising and falling with short, shallow breaths.

“Owen, please…”

Please what? Answer? Survive? Be okay?

The two girls gripped at each other. They stood in front of the entrance, their shadows falling over Owen in the bed. Through their quivering dark shapes, Owen’s eyes blazed.

Orange, teal, orange, teal, orange, teal…

“No more of that.”

Scott pealed his ears up away from where he had pinned them flat against the back of his head. “Owen?” His voice cracked. Owen’s voice sounded… hollow.

The fallen rat’s chest twitched. His arms drew in closer to his sides. His legs spread out over the sheets. Scott scrambled away to make room for his friend as a foot passed by where he had been kneeling on the bed. Every movement was agonizingly slow. Pained.

“W-what d-do you mean?” El stuttered. “Y-you gave us a r-real fright, there.”

“I mean no more of that.” Owen’s voice sounded empty. Distant. Scott couldn’t make out his friend’s mouth moving in the dim lighting. Not at this angle. Considering what he had just seen, it was shockingly clear considering all the mushrooms he had to be talking around. “Whatever that was, it burned. No more burning us.”

One of Bek’s ears swiveled. “Uh… ‘us’? What do you mean ‘us’?”

With a long, labored heave that looked unnaturally limp, Owen’s head lolled back as he pushed himself up shoulders first. He sat up.

Orange, teal, orange, teal, orange, teal…

“Us.”

It wasn’t just Owen’s eyes that glowed anymore. They were vacant. Glassy, empty eyes with irises that flashed back and forth. But below his eyes, crawling out from the cracks in his mouth, flowing down with the line of blood escaping the cut on his lip, curling around his front teeth, were mushrooms. Many, many, many mushrooms.

“We won’t let you burn us again,” came Owen’s voice, but it wasn’t Owen. It couldn’t be. His mouth didn’t move. His shallow breathing, now growing even shallower, hadn’t hitched or changed. Rather, with each rise and fall of the syllables, the glowing orange splotches strobed brighter.

“No more heat. No more burning.”

Orange, teal, orange, teal, orange, teal. Bright, dim, bright, dim, bright, dim.

“Just the damp. Just the dark. Like me. Like you…”

He turned to Scott, but he didn’t actually look at Scott. Those eyes stared straight ahead. The pupils were so dilated, he couldn’t be focusing on anything in front of him. His head tilted, ears falling limply with the motion.

“Hey Scott.” The mushrooms blinked with the hollow words. “You were helping me. Now I think you should help us…”

Owen lurched forward, reaching out for the nearest one of them. His claws brushed Scott’s arms and Scott leaped back.

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!”

He shrieked. Behind him, Bek and Eloise screamed as well. They scrambled back as Owen pushed forward out of the bed. Every movement was sluggish and stilted. His muscles quivered with distress and his legs shook as he stood up, but he WAS up. And he was coming right for them.

They bolted. All three dropped onto all fours and scrabbled through Owen’s house as fast as their paws could carry them.

This was a nightmare. It had to be. Scott knew the mushrooms were dangerous, but whatever this was had to be something else. However, when Scott slipped on the carpet in the hall and slammed shoulder-first into the wall, the pain sent dark spots dancing across his eyes.

Dreams weren’t supposed to be this painful.

The three of them were halfway down the gears when Owen’s distant voice met their ears. It still had that hollow ring to it. “Come on Scott. Come on guys. You wanted to help me, right? Then come back. The dark is better.”

Scott clenched his claws and dared to look up. He couldn’t see Owen past the ledge.

“Scott… Eloise… Bek… I thought you wanted to help?”

A shiver passed down Scott’s spine. Owen didn’t sound any closer. He wasn’t chasing them. He let go of the gears, allowing himself to drop the rest of the way to land heavily alongside the girls. The three of them looked up

“Are you still there, guys?”

El placed a finger over her lips and glared at Scott and Bek. She flicked her eyes off to the side and waved in the direction of Owen’s mudroom. It didn’t take much to figure out what she meant. Scott and Bek shared a glance, then nodded and followed her around the corner.

As soon as they were all packed into the cramped room like sardines in a can, Scott pulled the door closed behind him. She dropped the finger from in front of her mouth.

“What do we do!? What do WE DO!?!?” she whispered frantically.

“I DON’T KNOW!”

They all scrambled, moving back and forth as much as they could in the small space as they talked over each other in a panic.

“Is he coming!?”

“I don’t think so.”

“It didn’t sound like it.”

“I don’t think we can be sure.”

“The door’s closed even if he was.”

“That just means we’d be trapped.”

“I don’t think he’s coming, though.”

“What even happened?”

“It’s those mushrooms,” Scott babbled, words flowing out of his mouth as quickly as they passed through his head. “Those were the mushrooms from the garden that we burned. I’d recognize them anywhere. They were in him! My god, his mouth was full of them. He was coughing them up all this time and I didn’t even realize-”

Eloise cut through his panicked rambling to grab him by the shoulders and give him a shake. “You’re the expert here on those things. Did you know they could do that?”

“Of course not!”

“Okay,” Bek started. “So a bunch of angry mushrooms were making Owen sick and now he’s…” She opened and closed her mouth a few times, but could not find the words. She helplessly gestured to the mudroom’s ceiling, approximately in the same direction as Owen’s room. “That. Now he’s like that. Didn’t the mushrooms from the garden get burned?”

“Yeah,” El hissed. “That took care of them last time. Should we try that again?”

“And do what?” Scott wanted to shout, but he strained to keep his volume down low. “Set Owen on fire?!?”

El blinked, her face going blank. “Right. Might need to think of something better.”

“What about what he said,” Bek said, her whisper now bordering on becoming a shout. “He said that something burned.”

“Yeah, the hot sauce,” El said dismissively. “I’m sure it was spicy and hot and everything I said it would be but that doesn’t actually help us now because it doesn’t actually burn things like a fire, now does it?!”

“But he- it- they- whatever that was- I don’t know?! It didn’t seem to like it.”

“So you’re saying it caused this?”

“Those mushrooms were already in his system,” Scott admitted. “He was throwing them up for a while now. Whatever this is was already in him.”

“So the hot sauce made it worse? It pissed some bloody mushrooms off and made Owen…” Eloise didn’t even know how to finish her sentence. She threw her paw up in the air and turned. She pressed one of her knuckles against her forehead.

Scott ran through everything he knew about the fungus in his head. From his early days on the farm, where he had seen the brightly colored caps from afar, to the blight they caused, and the wildlife that choked on their spores until they couldn’t breathe. The awful way it spread in the dark, closed-off spaces. Places like the basement.

Places like Owen’s lungs.

He shook his head. Now was not the time to dwell on that.

At the farm, the only thing the farmers could do was burn it. Gather it up in a neat pile and set the whole thing ablaze. Even if there were a few mycelium roots below the surface, if they set the fire close enough to the patch, the heat still managed to leach through the topsoil and kill it off.

Hot sauce didn’t put off real heat. Not like that. But the mushrooms reacted to it. He didn’t know if his parents had ever tried any irritants against something like that. Acid wasn’t necessarily available to a family of rodents working the field.

He thought of the partially blackened piece of mushroom Owen had clawed out of his mouth.

“Okay… I think… I think your hot sauce might have helped, actually.”

El pulled her knuckle from her forehead and looked at him from the corner of her eye. “You’re joking.”

“That’s what I was saying,” Bek exclaimed. All pretenses of keeping her voice down were tossed out the window. “It was mad about how hot it was. What if hot flavors work just like hot fires.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Probably. But I saw a piece break off that looked burned, and I know for a fact Owen hasn’t been around a fire for some time. I don’t know if it works like some sort of acid, but it did something.”

“Yeah,” El huffed. “It made him like THAT . Worse!”

Bek rolled her eyes. “That just means we didn’t use enough.”

Scott pointed to the smaller rat. “What she said.”

Bek didn’t seem to be prepared for him to agree with her so easily. Her eyes flew wide and her tail went ramrod straight. “What?!”

“I think you’re, right, Bek. I think we need to try using more.”

“But you- I thought- I can’t believe-” Eloise sputtered. Her paws waved uselessly in the air, grasping at straws. Finally, she gave up on trying to find an argument and slumped forward. “Fine.” She pulled the small covered bowl out. “I suppose it doesn’t hurt to try.”

“Great! Now we just need to figure out how to do that,” Scott said as he leaned his back against the door.

Knock.

“Is it nice and dark in there?”

All three rats stiffened at the sound of Owen’s voice filtering through the cracks in the door. Scott’s heart outright skipped a beat as he pushed off the door, trying to put as much distance between him and the door as he could. Considering the small mudroom, it wasn’t much. He hurtled into Bek and Eloise, who were pressing themselves through the hanging coats and boots against the furthest corner of the room. Something fell at his side. He tore his eyes away from the door long enough to see Eloise’s covered bowl of hot sauce bounce once off the floor and go rolling.

Squeak… click!

The doorknob turned and swung open. Blinking orange lights strobed across the room as Owen stepped inside.

“Well, would you look at that?”

Orange, teal, orange, teal, orange, teal. Bright, dim, bright, dim, bright, dim.

“It is dark in here. I knew you guys wanted to help.”

“O-Owen…” Scott said shakily. He pressed himself further into Bek and Eloise’s sides. “I-I thought you were upstairs in y-your room?”

“But you guys came down here,” he said through a mouth that did not form the words. His blank eyes passed over the room. “You can’t help when you’re down here and I’m up there.”

“Help with what,” El demanded.

“Us. And you.”

He took a stilted step forward, and every fiber of Scott’s being screamed at him to run.

“Go! Go! Go!” He squeaked, shoving Bek and El aside. Owen stood between them and the door, but he couldn’t stop all of them if they tried to go around them.

Of course, that didn’t mean they would all be able to get out scot-free.

Because Owen’s claws wrapped around the strap of Scott’s dungarees before he could make it past.

His best friend’s paw gripped like a vice. His grip was so white-knuckled tight that it shook as he yanked. Scott was too busy trying to run forward to get a good grip on the floor with the soles of his feet. They slipped out from under him and the farm rat found himself suspended for a moment, staring at the retreating backs of the girls before his back hit the ground.

Owen’s flashing eyes appeared over him.

Orange, teal, orange, teal, orange.

“Hey, Scott,” the mushrooms glowed down at him.

Scott tried to pull away, but Owen still had a grip on the strap. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted the bowl Eloise had dropped. It was still covered and clean on the wooden floor, right there next to a set of boots. Scott reached for it. His claws brushed the rim, only for the strap of his dungarees yanked back once more. He couldn’t budge an inch as Owen forced the strap down against the wood planks, pinning him to the floor. The bowl rolled uselessly out of his line of sight.

“What are you doing,” Scott squeaked, voice small. His ears tried to swivel back to lay against his head, but they could only press uselessly against the floor.

“Helping us,” the mushrooms in Owen’s mouth blinked. “Don’t worry, Scott. It’s not so bad. A little time, a bit of coughing… you’ll barely notice.”

Dread clawed at the pit of Scott’s stomach. Owen was still looking at him blankly, but the mushroom caps in his mouth flared. The gills widened, revealing dotted dark pores between their inner layers. Scott could make out the dark spore particles between them. The dread dug those claws in and yanked.

“Owen! Owen please- I don’t- I- I- Please don’t-”

“Take this!”

Owen tore his glowing eyes off Scott. The moment his head tilted back, the open end of a bowl hit him square in the center of his face. Rivulets of red-orange liquid sprayed out along the side of his head. It caught in his hair and dripped down his jaw, and when the bowl fell away, his entire face was covered in Eloise’s hot sauce.

Bek stood in the door frame, wide-eyed, arm outstretched in front of her, utterly shocked that she had hit her mark.

The squeak of pain Owen let out made Scott flinch. He wanted to curl into a ball and cover his ears against the sheer agony that would have shredded Owen’s voice box if he was actually using it. Scott instead dug his heels into the floor and slid back as far as he could. Claws wrapped around his shoulders. To his relief, Bek had rushed to his side. She and El each took an arm and helped him up while Owen backed away. The slow, pained movements were now even shakier as he reached to wipe at the sauce covering his face.

Wherever the sauce touched the mushrooms, the stems and caps twitched and shriveled. Steam hissed, bubbles popping along their wet surface as the lukewarm liquid wreaked havoc on them. Burnt, dried-out stems fell from between his lips and crumbled against the floor.

A rather large mushroom broke free, falling to the floor. Owen let out a gasp. The sudden breath was heavier than what he had managed since the mushrooms appeared, and it triggered a cough. The same kind of heavy, burdened, full-body cough Owen had been struggling with for so long now. Scott could see flecks of hot sauce get sucked in from the edges of Owen’s lips, and full splatters of reddish-orange peppered the walls as the air was forced back out. He was gripping his throat again, but it wasn’t the desperate, clawing grasp from before.

With each cough, more and more blackened bits came tumbling from his mouth. With each cough, his chest expanded more and more. He managed to pull in more air. Let out more ragged breaths.

Bek and El’s grips on Scott’s shoulders tightened when Owen collapsed down onto his knees, shoulders stooped, and his stomach heaved. Scott didn’t react. Only watch. He had been around Owen’s vomiting spells longer than the two girls. He watched the puddle of bile and fleshy lumps that spread across the floor with cold recognition.

The chunks of what he now recognized to be mushroom pieces bubbled and boiled in the puddle, withering away amidst the swirls of undigested orange hot sauce.

Owen heaved again. And heaved. He kept going until there was nothing left, and even then he dry-heaved once or twice before he fell back into a weak cough. It was an exhausted cough. One that barely even managed to shake the rat’s shoulders. One that made his elbows waver as he tried to hold himself up off the messy floor. A few more flecks of orange and teal fell from his lips.

The coughing stopped.

It felt like an eternity passed in the time Scott, El, and Bek sat there, watching Owen pant. They were holding their breath. Didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Didn’t react in any way, as if the moment was so jagged and sharp that any change might cause it to break. Or to break one of them.

But if nobody broke the moment, than there was no way to know if it could be fixed.

“O-Owen?” Scott flinched as the sound of his own voice startled him. It cut through the quiet like a knife. He would have reached out to his friend. Risked that bit of movement, but Bek caught his wrist before he could go far.

Both she and El held him back. Their eyes were brimming with fear and concern, both emotions warring over what was best. Should they help Owen? Stay away from him?

“Are you back to feeling like yourself?” Bek asked carefully.

Owen looked up.

Orange, teal, orange, teal, orange, teal…

“I…” He took a deep breath. A small, tired smile pulled on the corners of his mouth as the flicker in his eyes finally guttered out. “I feel better…”

Thump!

Owen’s shaking arms finally gave out. He slumped down to the floor. Eyes fell closed. His body went still outside of the rise and fall of his chest.

And for the first time in a long time, Owen’s breathing sounded normal to Scott’s ears.

#mcythorrorgiftexchange #horror #body horror #mcyt fanfiction #rats smp #scott smajor #owengejuicetv #bekyamon #soupforeloise #alternate universe canon divergence #hurt/comfort #and then some more hurt #sickfic #vomiting #nonconsensual body modification #mind manipulation #unconventional use of hot sauce #embedded art #it's at the end

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