#captains in a slight state of shock- even if he was aware of Eights feelings he didnt- expect a flat out confession

[ask-squidbeaks-agents]

So…. How’s this talk going?

//It's... it's going... yeah that's what we'll say- //Four's not letting them out yet, she wants them to actually talk not just blurt out a confession aka these two are gonna be in this room- a little longer lol-

Captain: Eight she isn't going to let us out until we talk... Eight: Fine- She wants a confession? I'll give her a confession- I'm... in love with you... have been for the past five years- THERE! I SAID IT! NOW LET US OUT FOUR!

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

WhatsApp? Part 14. (Steve Rogers x reader)

Description: You’ve never been lucky with guys. You just wanted to catch someone’s eye, to be loved. One day, that’s about to turn completely - with one fake, completely imagined number a guy gave you

A/N: Enjoy, ma babes.

Warnings: None?

Word Count: 3 K

Tagging: @missdictatorme, @songforhema, @mikariell95, @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory

Read the rest here: Part One  Part Two  Part three  Part four  Part five  Part Six Part seven  Part eight  Part nine  Part ten  Part eleven  Part twelve  Part thirteen

If you like to have your readings in order :):  H E R E  

You have woken up in the morning when your alarm just blew up next to your head. The last thing you've remembered was falling asleep on Steve's firm shoulder, breathing his essence. He smelled so nice. But there you were, in your room, in your bed, with Steve's blue shirt on and the flowers being displayed next to your bed in a vase.

So he brought you home. He remembered where you lived and nudged you to your bed. That was so nice of him. And to top himself, a text from him was already awaiting you.

Steve: Morning, beautiful. (YOU ALMOST MELTED ON THE SPOT) Bring your suit from the event with yourself to your work today, I have plans for us today! Be prepared around eleven a.m. See you in your office.

Y/N: Morning, handsome. Should I take a day off for this?

Steve: Not at all, your boss knows what I am planning to do. She was thrilled.

Y/N: This is unsettling, not gonna lie. Okay. See you at the office.

So Steve planned on seeing you that day. And somehow he managed to talk with May about all of that. That unnerved you a lot. That must've been some really special program, you thought to yourself.

You went all curious to work that day. Maybe the worst part about your curiousness was that you were obvious to the plan, but everyone else knew what Steve had on his mind. But they were blown away with Steve being the man out of the time himself. They asked you a million questions about him. And you were not able to answer.

You wanted to tell them everything - but you have known Steve from the human point of view. Not from the extra patriotic point of view of being Captain America, being economically, politically and morally influential even after the age of more than one hundred.

You planned on having huge research covering Steve's past, you wanted to get familiar with his life during the forties to know how much different it was back then. You also were aware of his moral-influence and youngster influence, and about the strength of his influence. For American conservatives, Steve Rogers was a true hero.

He was a hero, an ideal man for a lot of women, well raised and well acting handsome man for a lot of women and young girls, an idol for a lot of young boys and men, the national treasure found after seventy years in the ice. Captain America - the living pride of the United States of America.

Buck and Deena told you one secret which became the new official office secret - everybody knew about the thing that you've learned but pretended to be oblivious about.

James and Steve were friends for a long time - for such a long time that was running since the 1930s. They both were genetically mutated with some serum and both of them were older than one hundred years. But that was all that Bucky told you and refused to tell you more.

But when you began to ask questions, he stopped you with a smile and said that he can't speak for Steve. Maybe there were some sick government experiments, yet both had a different experience with the process of becoming superior humans. From the expression and gaze Bucky held at that moment, his experience couldn't be far explained as enjoyable.

And since one of his hands was an iron prosthetic, you didn't want to ask. Yeah, Deena and Buck probably already had that talk for one or two times, but that was their intimacy. Steve had his own story to tell with his very own voice, he has thoughts to say out loud which Bucky couldn't address as well as Steve could.

So the research was your way to offer a helping hand to Steve, so you weren't completely dumb and he didn't have to say so much stuff. But that was just a plan for the next evenings which you had without plans. At the moment, Steve was simply making your curiousness almost blow up.

"Hey Y/N." - Deena said your name out loud when she entered the office after taking Buck to the center where he had his sparring session during the lunch pause. - "Your innocent hottie is waiting for you behind the closed door. You better swing your nice ass to dat boy, because May can hear me too."

Obviously, May was way faster than you, bevause you packed your desk and put every paper you were using until that moment into the right file. When you finally packed your things and walked out of the office, May was chit-chatting with Steve already.

"So you would be up?" - She asked when you left the office. You looked at the both of them, giving a nod to May and a shy smile to Steve as you got to his side.

"Definitely. That would be lovely to do, I'm up for those things." - Steve answered excitedly. So May was recruiting him for another of her future events she obviously came up within the hours between the morning after she learned that you may be dating Steve Rogers and before Steve came to pick you up.

"Okay. Y/N will write you a message when the event comes up on the horizon of a month. Is that okay?" - May said with a high guessing tone, tilting her palm from side to side.

"I can't promise you that I'll be able to come. I have a very unsure occupation." - Steve said with a bit of sadness in his voice. His hand slowly landed on your shoulder carefully, not bringing you to his body resembling a mountain, but for everyone to be afraid that he's there with you.

"Okay. We'll talk it through. Have a lovely day you two. And I will be expecting a report tomorrow, alright?" - She winked at you and left you two. You looked at Steve with the entire sky in your eyes. Your smile was bright and big.

"Alright Cap, tell me what we gonna do. I'm pumped." - You said out loud excitedly. Steve gently patted your shoulder and wiggled his head in the direction of the exit.

"We're going to visit a hospital together. We gonna visit some children who basically live there... I liked how you talked about your work. And this is very close." - He said when you got into his car. When he told you that, that you'll be visiting children, you just watched his face with a slight frown.

This was usually really heartbreaking as you heard. To visit those sick children who have very little chances to heal their illness, that was very sad for the people who were doing it. People like Steve, celebrities, and superheroes were doing this for children's happiness, to make their day brighter, to make them smile for just a bit. And he planned to do it along with you. That was such an act of intimacy.

"Are you sure? That doing it with me is the right choice?" - You asked when he took your bag and put it on the back seat.

"Hey. You know me for the last couple of months. And pretty well per se. So yeah. I want to do it with you. And Sam will come along." - Steve kissed your knuckles gently and sat to the driver's side. - "And you shouldn't have a problem with that... Do you have some problems with going there?"

"Steve, that's not what I meant." - You touched his hand shyly at the first moment, but then you just put your palm on his. He watched your face with a smile up from close. - "I want to see what you can do with those kids. I want to make their day better. But just don't forget about that from this moment, it will be Captain America and that girl."

"Not just some girl. Not at all. It will be you and me." - His huge palm slowly caressed your cheek and he had a huge smile on his lips. Then he turned the motor on, riding to the hospital with you by his side. A man was waiting for you outside, just like Steve told you. And a surprise took hold on you when you realize you knew him.

It was the man with beautiful, shining brightly brown skin, big smile and with some sunglasses on his eyes. He danced with you at the event. So that man was Steve's Samuel, who you heard about all the time. And you two actually knew him. Did he even know that it was you? Or didn't he?

"Finally. I feel like a hundred-year-old man, I waited for ya so long here." - Sam greeted his old friend with a one-shoulder hug and a big, white smile. - "And look who do we got here! Big ol' man's girl." - Sam walked up to you and just straightaway hugged you, which made you laugh.

"Name's Sammy, young malady." - He offered you a hand, which you accepted in a slight shock. Sam looked like a ball of fire and energy and his energy was just kicking you in the ass.

"My name's Y/N. So nice to meet you finally, Sam." - You stepped outside. Then, while listening to the men's bittersweet bickering, they lead you through the hospital. A lot of the nurses greeted you happily, they were thrilled that Steve and Sam were in the hospital again. Especially those mom-like types.

The children's care wing was big, maybe too big, but it felt light and colorful. It was a nice change from the cold, too clean surroundings of a normal wing. There were animals painted all over the walls, there was a jungle schematic and then some woods, desert animals and the sea... You loved a small child's corner with some old PS3 console and a game, some toys all over the floor...

"Mr. Rogers! We're so happy to have you again. Who are those other two young people?" - An old nurse with silver-blonde curls and thick glasses went to straightaway hug Steve with a big smile. Steve gave her a hug back and then left his hand over that old lady's shoulder.

"This is the one and only, beautiful Y/N. And this is my pal Sam, who you can know as the Falcon. The last time, my duties went a bit slow, so I brought me some help." - Steve clapped his back and but his hand on the small of your back when you introduced you to the woman. - "This is Vera. She's the greatest nurse I've ever seen. And the children here are great as well, you'll see."

"You think that I'm beautiful?" - You asked Steve with whispery voice and a giggle, just as he took you to some cabin in which you could change yourself into the costume.

"Shush it and take the suit on. I will wait outside, so be quick." - Steve laughed and you just tensed the tip of your nose a little bit as you smiled.

You've never changed so fast. The clothes from work were off your body in a matter of a minute, then you put on a nice blouse to cover the shorts and you put on the rest along with some old Oxford shoes.

"And there she goes." - Sam hummed when you left the cabin and you just punched his shoulder. - "She's pretty tough, I like it."

"I didn't even show you how tough, yet." - You put your hands on your waist when Steve went to put his suit on and take the shield out of its case. - "You can go and fuck off with your fighting skill because I would easily kick the hell out of you." - You raised your eyebrows playfully and Sam just began to laugh. You two seemed to have a great duo so far when you danced and even spoke.

"Oh darling, you look so great. And you do as well, of course." - Vera took your shoulder to her hand and gave you a lovely smile.

"Me? I look better than her. Just look at that bod." - Sam joked but didn't think it through, because at that moment Steve came off the room in that all tight and seriously sexy blue Spandex. You just shut up, looking at him with a surprised face. Those muscles were killing you so much you couldn't even handle all of it.

“You are drooling, babe.” - Sam whispered to your ear and you almost screamed because of freaking the fuck out. You hit his shoulder and tried to look anywhere except Captain Rogers's body. 

“No, I am not.” - You answered in a harsh tone when Steve was talking to Vera about something. 

“You definitely were drooling. I don't blame you, gal, just sayin'.” - Sam smiled confidently, leaning further away from you. Guilty as charged - Steve was hiding a perfect body under his clothes. You maybe even truly drooled at the sight. 

When you entered your first few rooms, you were nervous and not feeling in your skin at all - but Steve got you through all of that. He carefully took you to a scenario which you were playing to those kids, he was asking you stupidly silly questions which made you smile and overall, he was watching after you. 

Steve was particularly good with children. Over the few minutes you had spent with each of them, you could see as they come to life, how confidence was bursting in their eyes and how happy they were from a moment to moment. For some moments, you were just standing in the background, smiling and watching the two of them talking. 

In the end, when you were changing your clothes two hours later, you had a slight smile on your lips. This job was just as wrenching as heartwarming. But it was nice to slip back to your casual clothes. Not like you didn't enjoy your time with Steve - you could actually see the magic he was working upon people and it was pretty amazing, to be honest, but this wasn't your daily cup of coffee at all.

You felt sad for these kids. So young and so blatantly innocent, yet so sick it hurt you.

“So, how do you feel?” - Sam swung an arm over your shoulder immediately as you left the cabin. So he was a touchy-feely person. You noted that to yourself.

“I don't know, how should I feel about it, Sammy?” - You nudged his side with your elbow, looking him in the eyes with a courageous look. - "I feel good, man. I loved how the children felt so alive. They absolutely loved Steve. I felt awed."

"You're done for, gal." - Sam tapped your shoulder. You rolled your eyes and stepped away for a moment. Thanks to God for that, because Steve just got off out of the cabin.

"We're done here for today." - He smiled at the two of you as a proud leader of a small soldier division. You have completed the mission. That was fine. More than fine. He offered you his hand so blatantly and confidently that you looked at him in a shock and in awe.

The literal man of your dreams offered you a hand to hold to. And in front of every person in the hospital. Locked hands, entwined fingers. Oh Lord, the fainting was approaching you rapidly. Of course, you accepted that strong fingers. He could easily break a bone with those hands he had.

But he walked bedside you proudly and happily, which made you happy as ever. Sam walked next to your other side and made funny comments the time, to both you and Steve, which made you giggle. He wasn't rude at all - and Sam seemed to be genuinely happy for his best friend.

But the time to say goodbye came too soon. Not to Steve - Sam was about to head to his sparring session with that Nat you heard about.

"She's going to kick my ass so bad, you softened me up in the hospital. I'm gonna blame my monocle on your name, captain Rogers." - Sam laughed and stepped to his old mini. It was a cute, old car of a marine blue color.

"Come on, you're going to be handsome!" - You squealed and giggled, stepped closer to his body and offered him your arms. You were so small next to those two men. - "Gimme a hug, dawg."

"Oh, she knows some words!" - Sam hugged you tightly and you smiled into his huge shoulder. - "You gotta keep this one, she's a piece of work, I tell ya. I love a sista' from another mista'."

Steve was nervously standing in the background, watching the two of you in a friendly embrace. You stood there, watching Sam driving off to the distance, waving at him.

"Okay, Mr. Rogers. What's your great plan?" - You turned to him, playing with your hair.

"Well, miss Y/L/N. I'm thinking about some great, big lunch because I'm hungry as a wolf. You're up? Or do you want me to drive you back to work?" - He asked shyly, he turned red, stuttered and waved his hands chaotically.

"Hey, calm down, silly. I would love to have lunch. Just be cool." - Your fingers brushed his upper arm. Wow. You were such a tiger from a moment to another one. So confident and practically blatantly dangerous. You were making him awe, you were such a strong, courageous woman. He chose well, really well. - "As the Ramones said, hey ho, let's go!"

"Yes, ma'am." - Steve smiled and crawled into the car after you.

[jarienn972]

The Inbetween - Chapter Three

Happy Wednesday! I've got Chapter Three of my @cssns story, The Inbetween, ready to share with you today, but as before, I am going to preface this chapter with a warning that it does contain a non-consensual spirit possession so for anyone bothered by such, skip to the second part of this chapter.

Once again, thank you so much to @allons-y-to-hogwarts-713 for her wonderful artwork and to @kmomof4 and the rest of the @cssns organizers for creating this fun event!

AO3  FF.net   Tumblr: Chap One  Chap Two

Emma wasn't quite sure what to think when she felt Killian's body shudder against hers, the spasm startling her only a split second before his eyelids flew open. She felt his muscles tense as he tried unsuccessfully to sit upright so she placed her hand atop his chest and with a little gentle pressure, urged him to remain lying down.

"Easy there," she urged. "I wouldn't recommend trying to sit up just yet. You've got a nasty bump on your head and you're bleeding so, until I can heal you, you might want to take it slow."

"Slow?" Killian asked as he came around and Emma initially dismissed his tone as one of confusion, but that little nag in her gut was making itself known again, a sensation that only intensified with her husband's next statement. "I suppose I've forgotten the fragility of a physical body…"

"Are you feeling okay?" Emma asked quizzically, one eyebrow quirked in suspicion. "You must have struck your head harder than I thought…"

"The name is Jeremiah," came a voice from Killian's throat that definitely did not belong to the pirate - the accent and the pitch both dramatically different. Emma yanked her hand back from his chest, her body unconsciously reeling away in shock from this man who looked like her husband but no longer sounded like him. Unencumbered by her hand, the man calling himself Jeremiah bolted upright, apparently unaware or merely oblivious to the injuries Killian had suffered tumbling down the stairs.

"Killian - what the hell is going on?" Emma demanded, apprehension creeping into her voice as her eyes shot over to David. She gestured for her father and the three teens to stay back until she figured out what was happening. Why was her husband claiming to be someone else and why did he no longer seem bothered by the head injury that had him knocked out cold just minutes earlier? She wouldn't dare admit that she was a little bit frightened, but she absolutely needed answers.

Unbeknownst to her, across the room, Aiden had covertly pressed the Record button on his cell phone, praying that his battery would hold out long enough to capture some amazing paranormal evidence. He wasn't certain exactly what they were witnessing, but this was precisely what they'd come here to see and he knew it had to be documented.

"The Captain isn't in control of his faculties at the moment," the stranger who looked like Killian explained. "As I said, my name is Jeremiah and I've assumed control of his physical being so that I can speak to you, the living, once again so that I may plead for your assistance."

"You want my help?" Emma scoffed. "You take possession of my husband's body and expect me to help you? You really think that's the best way to go about this?" She may not have fully grasped what was transpiring, but she knew this wasn't Killian speaking and she'd be damned if she wasn't going to defend him. But who or what was she actually talking to?

"I'm afraid there was no other choice. My kind have waited a very long time to locate someone who could facilitate this conversation for us. The Captain's unique return to life after death made him the perfect vessel. Few had even been able to hear us before now."

"There are more of you?" Emma gulped, wondering which of them might become possessed next.

"Yes, there are several amongst our numbers," Jeremiah replied. "All of us forced to linger in this inbetween, unable to enter our afterlife because our hearts are being preserved by dark magic."

"Inbetween? Like some kind of purgatory?" Emma questioned, unfamiliar with the term Jeremiah had used.

"Purgatory would actually be a welcome blessing as it would mean we've at least passed into the realm of the dead. Our state is far worse - incomplete souls trapped in a horrid plane between life and death, gathered here in this mansion where we can draw on its magic and energy to sustain us."

The ghostly statement got Emma thinking. "You and the other spirits - you've been creating the weird lights and sounds that townspeople have been calling me about?" Emma asked, now beginning to understand the correlation.

"Yes. As All Hallows' Eve draws near, we are able to utilize the expanding magic this season brings to manipulate objects and materialize for brief moments. It has been our only means of communication with the living world since the Apprentice left us."

"The Apprentice - the old man - he knew you were here?" Emma asked for clarification.

"He did indeed. He didn't venture into the main house very often, but he was aware of our presence. He would sometimes speak to us, but he didn't possess the ability to assist us." Emma sat there as Jeremiah continued, slightly dumbfounded as to how this disgruntled spirit would believe that she could help them when the man who had known all of the secrets of this house - hell, the man who had known most of the secrets of the town - couldn't help.

"What makes you think that I'll be able to do anything for you?" Emma queried.

"As you are among the first to hear of our plight, we can at last divulge the truth. With the Apprentice, he could only gather bits and pieces of our stories, not enough to matter. He understood that he was in the presence of disembodied souls, but not why we are cursed to the inbetween…" Jeremiah tried to explain, but Emma interrupted to get to his point quicker.

"Why are you here?" she asked bluntly.

"We are all here because we passed on here in this realm, but without our still-living hearts," Jeremiah stated, not the answer that Emma had expected. Even David was so taken aback by the spirit's response that he chimed in to the conversation with his own half-statement, half-question.

"The Evil Queen took your hearts…," David said, trying to keep his tone even and nonjudgmental toward the Regina they now knew, but not without recollection of the atrocities she'd committed in the past. "Before the curse?"

Jeremiah nodded, gradually becoming aware of the strain he was placing on his host's body as he began to sense the faint trembling of Killian's extremities. "I was one of the Queen's guards before the curse. She made it common practice to remove all of her Black Guards' hearts so we would experience no pity nor remorse. She expected us to do our duties without emotion so collecting our hearts ensured it. When the curse brought us to this land, none of us was aware that we didn't possess our hearts until you, Emma Swan, broke that curse. When those memories came flooding back, we found ourselves victims of a new curse. For the twenty-eight years in which time was frozen, we were protected, but the moment that the Savior broke the Queen's curse, we were mortal once again and one by one, those of us now trapped here in the inbetween died. Without our hearts, all still preserved by the Queen's magic, we remain caught in this void - unable to cross over."

Emma sighed, recognizing the difficulty that they were going to face trying to complete this task. "After all of these years, do you think that Regina even remembers who all of those enchanted hearts belong to?"

"I believe she did return some of the hearts that she could identify a while back - when she was trying to show everyone that she could change and do good," David replied with a slight shrug. "But she and Cora collected so many, we might never know…"

"That's what I was afraid of," Emma frowned. "Where would we even begin?"

"We need to enchantment to be removed or the hearts to be crushed to release the missing piece of our souls. It's the only way we can free our spirits of this place," Jeremiah stated very matter-of-factly, but Emma immediately reminded him of an important bit of information he was either overlooking or nonchalant about.

"We can't just go around crushing all of the hearts in Regina's vault," Emma said firmly. "We don't know if those hearts belong to the living or the dead and I'm not going to put innocent lives at risk to free a few poltergeists. There has to be a different way…"

"We're going to have to talk to Regina,but we can't do that if we're all locked in here," David reminded the spirit. "We need you to remove whatever spell is keeping us here if you want our help."

Emma stared into the face of her husband, but made her plea to Jeremiah and the other ghosts. "If we agree to help you, we're going to need some cooperation from you. First, like my dad said, you need to drop whatever spell is keeping us from exiting so we can get help from friends outside of these walls. Second, I need you to stop draining my magic so that I can heal Killian. We need a little good faith from you, so, what do you say? Do we have an agreement?"

"We agree to lower the protective barrier, but we cannot allow you to heal the Captain just yet. It is only through his injured state that we can communicate with you," Jeremiah told her, but Emma wasn't going to relent on that request.

"I think you're failing to understand that if Killian dies, you're back to square one. I can see his body shaking with pain - you have to be able to feel that. He'll be useless to you if you push too hard and his heart gives out," Emma's voice was practically begging at this point, unsure how much strain Jeremiah's unwanted possession of Killian's body had already placed on him. "You said that Killian could hear you before. He'll still be able to hear you after I heal the worst of his injuries. If you want my help, this is non-negotiable."

The spirit inhabiting Killian's form contemplated her words for a few agonizing seconds, then at last, lowered his head in a nod. "Agreed." It was the only word he spoke as Killian's body fell limp. He collapsed into Emma's arms as she lunged forward to catch him before he struck the marble flooring again just as the dark shadow-like form of the spirit vanished, passing through a nearby wall.

Emma gently lowered Killian's head and shoulders until they were resting on the floor and brought her hands up over his torso as before, smiling broadly as the familiar glow of her magic illuminated the vestibule. She hovered her palm above his chest then swooped it up over his forehead in one rapid, circular motion, pleased to watch the swollen bruise at his temple disappear with her healing powers. She had no real expectation that Killian would wake instantly from his ordeal, certain that a paranormal takeover of his body had likely taken a demanding physical toll on him.

"Now what?" David asked as the glow dissipated, plunging them back into the murkiness of the flickering candlelight. "And what do we do about them?" He pointed to the three adolescents who had thankfully remained silent and out of the way in the midst of a spirit possession. They'd come here searching for ghosts and probably ended up getting a lot more than they'd bargained for.

"You go - take them home. Their parents have worried enough tonight," Emma instructed. "Then go wake up Regina. This is a mess she created so she can help sort it out."

"Agreed," David laughed, although there was a bit of a nervous vibe to the chuckle. He'd probably find himself staring down a fireball waking Regina at this hour.

"But we don't want to go home yet," Tyler whined. "This is exactly what we came here to see. You can't make us leave just when things are getting good…"

"We can and we are," Emma snapped back at the teen. "You are all going home and if I catch any of you back here tonight, I will have all of you arrested for trespassing and you can spend the weekend in my jail, followed by a month of community service…"

"Wouldn't that be up to a judge?" Aiden countered as he turned off the camera on his phone, hoping neither Emma nor David noticed, but Emma wasn't in any mood to argue and she'd already caught on to his attempted stealth.

"It would be, and I happen to know that Judge Broome usually sides with the mayor. Since your actions tonight are indirectly causing Mayor Mills to be awakened at nearly 3AM, a month of community service might end up being too light of a punishment…" The teens were going home, there was no fighting that, but she wasn't finished with them just yet. "I'm also confiscating your phones and that camera until I have a chance to review anything you recorded tonight. This isn't going on the internet."

"Hand 'em over," David said as the teens reluctantly did as instructed. He pocketed all of the devices, intending to take them to the station later that night, or maybe the next morning. "Okay, now come on, you three. Let's get you home now and we'll discuss any charges you might be facing in daylight. Emma, I'll be back as quickly as I can and with reinforcements."

"Thanks," she responded, worried that this night was going to grow even longer. What if they couldn't find a way to help these spirits? Would she and Killian end up trapped within these walls for eternity with them? That was a fate she didn't even want to consider as she pulled her husband closer to her, his head now resting on her knees until he awakened.

Per Mrs. Sprat's request, David deposited all three teenagers on her doorstep before making a quick call to a still wide-awake Snow with updates. Then, steeling his composure, he made the call to Regina, fully expecting her wrath. It took three attempts at calling her landline phone and another two to her cell phone before she finally answered, none-too-joyful to receive a call from Prince Charming at 3AM - but honestly, David wasn't feeling overly guilty at waking her. This did boil down to a disastrous mess of her creation anyway.

By the time he had pulled into the mayor's driveway ten minutes later, the sky was pouring down a bitter cold rain. He made a dash for the front stoop and rang the doorbell, shaking away some of the raindrops clinging to his skin and clothing as Regina swung open the door, frowning at both the sight of the rain and the dripping wet David on her doorstep.

"Get in here before you get any more drenched than you already are," she grumbled, taking a step to her right so he could pass.

"Thanks," David smiled at her as he entered, courteously wiping his feet on the mat so he didn't track in too much water. "Sorry to have to drag you out of bed in the middle of the night, but we've got an unusual situation going on that's going to require your help."

"Of course...because we never have any unusual situations here in Storybrooke at 3 in the morning...," she quipped, sweeping her arm in a gesture towards her parlor. "I suppose I should ask exactly what this unusual situation might be since all you mentioned in your call was that Emma and Hook were trapped in the Sorcerer's mansion."

"Well, at the moment, they aren't exactly trapped, but they're still caught in a rather awkward position," David clarified, but he knew his explanation was going to become less believable as he went on. "Let me start by saying that the mansion is definitely haunted."

"Haunted, really?" she scoffed. "You believe in ghosts now?"

"Until about an hour ago, I didn't," David replied while leaning against the arm of a black leather loveseat. "But after what I witnessed, there's no doubt in my mind that it's haunted…"

"Go on…" Regina remained skeptical, but there was something in Charming's body language that indicated he wasn't making this up.

"Okay, I'll start at the beginning, but I'll try to be as brief as possible. Emma got a call from Mrs. Sprat whose son and a couple of his friends went off ghost hunting and didn't come home on time. Anyway, Emma asked for some help searching that huge house, so she dragged Hook and I out of bed, and while we did find the kids, we also found something rather creepy. The mansion is apparently inhabited by a bunch of disembodied spirits who are trapped in what they called the inbetween because they died without their hearts. So, as you see, this is definitely your area of expertise."

"It's no secret that I've crushed a lot of hearts in my villainous past, but I tried my best to return those I could. I just don't know who all of them belong to anymore, but I also don't understand why it would have caused anyone to become a ghost. There were plenty of people we encountered in the Underworld whose hearts I had crushed…"

"Well, tonight, I watched my injured son-in-law become possessed by one of those spirits who had quite a tale to tell. One of the teenagers tried to sneak a video of the interaction on his phone, which we confiscated. Look at this - it's Killian speaking, but at the same time, it isn't…" David dug Aiden's phone from his jacket pocket and pulled up the four minute long video. The image wasn't really clear due to the minimal light, but Regina could still make out the form of Killian Jones, seated on the floor, Emma an arm's distance away. The sound had significant static, but the voices were distinct enough to make out and David was right, the words coming from Killian's mouth weren't his own. "The ghost told us that their hearts weren't crushed, just taken. What's keeping them here is their hearts remain magically preserved in your vault while the owners' bodies passed away."

"Oh…," Regina stammered, her eyes drifting from the phone screen to the hardwood floor beneath her feet as David sensed a flush of guilt overtaking her. After a pensive pause, she continued. "Never thought about that possibility, but how can we be sure that's really the case?"

"Regina, I have no reason to doubt the story," David stated. "Those teenagers and I watched as some black, shadowy figure pushed Hook down a flight of stairs, then took possession of his unconscious body so it could speak to us. The ghost even identified himself - Jeremiah, a former member of your Black Guard. Name sound familiar?"

"Possibly…," was her reply, but her actions said otherwise. "What exactly do you expect me to do?"

"Those hearts in your vault - is it your magic that keeps them glowing?"

"Of course, it is. It's a spell that my mother initiated decades ago and I followed along. I suppose that without the enchantment, hearts that belonged to dead persons would go dim."

"Is there a way to remove the enchantment? To undo the spell?"

"Maybe, but why should I?" she asked indignantly. "They're just spirits…"

"Because if these spirits can draw enough power from that mansion to enact their own protective barrier which trapped us inside, they could pose a threat to the entire town. They're obviously pissed off - I mean they did shove Hook down a flight of stairs, so we know they can affect things in the living world. Jeremiah said that as it gets closer to Halloween, they become more powerful, so - what if they leave the mansion? What if they possess someone else? Regina, the right thing to do is to help them find a way to cross over."

"Fine," she relented, David's argument convincing her. "I'll see what I can do to reverse the spell in the morning. I can probably find a way to lift the enchantment from the dead hearts…"

"Good. And since it's already morning, I'll go let Emma know that you're working on it."

"I meant morning - as in daylight, Charming…"

"I know, but I don't think we have that kind of time. Emma and Hook are still stuck inside that house with those angry spirits. She cut a bargain with the ghosts so they'd stop siphoning her magic long enough for her to heal most of Hook's injuries, but he was still out cold when the ghosts allowed the teens and I to leave. I don't think magical healing is particularly effective on concussions either. You and I both know that there is a lot of strange, powerful magic inside that mansion and these spirits know how to utilize it. I don't want to see anyone else I love getting hurt because you didn't get enough beauty sleep!" David halted his words there, realizing after they'd left his tongue that they might have been a tad too harsh. For a split-second, he was tempted to apologize, but instead, he held his ground.

Regina scowled silently at him for a moment while she decided how to respond. "You know that I've turned men into toads for speaking that way to me…" David swallowed hard at the possibility he'd crossed a line, but then Regina's icy stare softened. "But I get it. This town faces enough supernatural challenges on a daily basis so adding cranky ghosts to the mix is a particularly bad idea. I'll head down to the vault and start working on a reversal spell as soon as I get some coffee brewing. Hopefully, Emma can hold the ghosts at bay until I figure it out."

[imagine-loki]

Across the Divide

TITLE: Across The Divide CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter Twenty-Eight AUTHOR: wolfpawn ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki sneaking out of the palace as a youth to see the city and countryside, while out one day, he accidentally gets in trouble for something, but a young girl deals with the situation, allowing him to be left alone and his true identity be kept secret. She is a poor girl who is only in the city to sell goods with her father, so she does not realise it is Loki, even though she sees his face. They form a friendship as she shows him around the city, and tells him the date she comes to the city every month for a particular market. RATING: Teen and Up

Ariella focused on the work in front of her until she was bleary-eyed. Rubbing her eyes, she stretched then groaned as she got off the chair and made her way back through the palace to her rooms, paying little heed to the world around her. When she went through one hallway, she paused when a young man stood in front of her, blocking her path. ‘Hello?’

‘You are Prince Loki’s little hottie, are you not?’ The man grinned.

‘His what?’ In all honesty, Ariella had no idea what a “hottie” was, it did not seem like a thing one would want to be.

‘His toy, his plaything, his concubine.’

Until concubine, Ariella was under the impression that the man was referencing her as an actual plaything for Loki, something he amused himself with, but even she knew the meaning of that word. ‘I am happy to tell you that you are mistaken, I am no such thing.’ She tried to step around him but he took hold of her arm. ‘Let go of me.’ She hissed through gritted teeth.

‘If you are not in bed with Prince Loki, then you should warm mine.’

‘I would rather drink poison.’ She stated, trying to pull her arm free. ‘If you do not let go of me, right now, I will break your damn fingers.’ When he did not do so, she shrugged. ‘Suit yourself.’ She grabbed the man’s hand, pulled him around so he fell to the floor on his back and grabbed his fingers and thumb on the hand that had touched her, then, with a foot on his chest, leant her weight in a manner that forced pressure to the knuckles, breaking and popping each of them with the force used. The man yelled out in pain. A moment later, two guards came around the corner, not sure what to do with the scene they were witnessing before the man yelled at them again.

‘Seize her.’ She turned to see a man she had never seen before, but who clearly was very highborn by his attire rushing forwards towards them, another well-dressed man beside him. The guards obeyed and grabbed Ariella by an arm each and held her fast. Ariella, though scared, looked at the man with her head high. ‘You filthy little wench, how dare you touch my son, a man of high birth and injuring him in such a manner.’

‘If that was my son, the last thing I would ever do is openly admit to such a shaming.’ She spat back. ‘He is a pig, but clearly, it is learned from you.’

The man’s face went puce with anger at her words. ‘You will be lashed for what you have said and done.’

‘Lash me a thousand times, it doesn’t make you and your son any less vile.’ She shook, not only in fear but in anger at the man would not acknowledge the fault in his son.

The man seemed less than pleased with her tenacity and sneered at her. ‘I will take pleasure in hearing you scream in pain.’

‘Not as much as I will enjoy yours.’ Ariella gasped in relief as the man’s face paled and when he turned, she saw Loki standing there, his face filled with disdain and anger. ‘Let go of her, this instant.’ He snapped at the guards. The guards, knowing that for all his anger and bluster, Lord Ivan held nothing near the power of their Prince, obeyed. Loki walked over to Ariella, noting immediately the darkening of bruises on her arms from their grips. ‘Report to the Captain of the Einherjar, immediately. I will have you dealt with after I deal with these vile rats.’

‘That will not be necessary, Your Highness.’ Loki’s snarl became a slight sneer as the Captain himself came into view, and with him, Thor and Odin. ‘Did the lady resist being held?’ He demanded, neither replied. ‘Then why in the name of the Norns is she marked? And what made it necessary for two men your sizes to hold her, she is smaller than most bloody Light Elves.’ The men winced. ‘Drills, and cleaning duties for a month for both of you. Now, did you see what occurred?’

‘She…’

‘Ivan, are you a guard?’ Odin interjected. ‘Because if you are not, you will not speak until you are spoken to.’ Odin turned to Ariella. ‘What happened?’

She indicated to the man sitting on the floor, his mutilated hand clear for all to see. ‘That man suggested that I am nothing more than a concubine and to warm his bed, when I declined, he grabbed me.’ She pointed to the worst bruise on her, which was now a deep purple. ‘I told him to let go or I would break his fingers, he would not, so I did as I said I would.’

‘My son does not want or need to touch a lowborn woman.’ Ivan shouted. ‘So you admit to harming him?’

‘Shut up, you fool. I think you forgot the part where she was first accosted, then warned your filthy boy to let go of her.’ Odin growled. ‘I am very well versed in our laws, but you, Jarl, are the professional, what is the defence here?’

‘Self-defence surely?’ Thor stated. ‘He could have assaulted her further if she did not protect herself.’

‘Further?’ Ivan spat.

‘He marked the Lady’s arm, she gave him a warning, she very much is covered under self-defence, and with the marking to her arm, she does indeed have a case for assault.’ The Captain stated.

Loki found himself standing close to her. When she looked at her injured arm, he gently extended his hands. ‘May I?’ She looked at him, seeing the same caring that she always knew and loved throughout their years of knowing one another in his face and nodded. He gently touched her arm, the marks of the Einherjar paled in comparison to what was in front of him when revealed properly. He recalled her saying before that she bruised easily, and of some of the marks her father had left on her skin in his grief. ‘It needs Eir. the blood is not stemming under the skin.’

‘Get her there, immediately. I will deal with this.’ Odin promised.

‘Ivan swore to flog her, that he would take pleasure in her agony.’ He informed his father before he took Ariella’s hand in his and walked down the hall at the pace he knew was the swiftest she could comfortably walk.

When they left, a shocked looking Thor and an appalled and livid Odin stared at Ivan, who seemed to quiver visibly. ‘We...we do not flog people, do we Father?’ Thor asked, terrified of the thought.

‘No civilised realm would ever do such a thing.’ Odin dismissed before turning to Ivan once more. ‘What atrocities are you performing against the common people without jurisdiction or law?’ He stood tall over the Lord.

‘It was merely a threat, nothing more.’ Ivan stated, his voice shaking.

‘You tell a maiden, a woman barely legally an adult, that you will flog her and take pleasure in her agony as a threat? What sort of barbaric animal are you, and what fool do you take me for to think I would believe such lies?’

‘Allfather…’

‘Your son is to be sent to the armies, he will do ten years service, and on his return from training, he will be sent to Vanaheim, to serve under the Athena Warriors, those women will ensure your son’s learning of proper treatment of the sex.’ Odin explained calmly. ‘While you, Ivan, will be held in the cells until I get numbers for those you have wronged in this way. For every man and woman you have wronged, you will be stripped of land, deeds and moneys, to be used to pay your victims for your crimes against them, any Lord that stands by you will face similar, Asgard will not protect those who have abused their power. I am the King of Asgard, of the lowliest pauper, to my house, I will defend them to the last. It is my duty as King, to die for them if needs be, and I will do it willingly if the time ever arises, without hesitation.’

Ivan fell to his knees, ‘No…’

‘NO!? You do not get to dictate to me you filthy excuse of an Aesir, you abuse your power, you bully a victim of assault and you raise your son to think a woman can be used to warm his bed as he sees fit without her consent? If you and your son refuse to acknowledge a ‘no’ then so too shall that justice be given to you. Jarl, have him thrown down there now, I want him out of my sight.’

‘And his son?’

‘Lord Baldric will have to see a healer about his hand….AFTER Lady Ariella is done. She has suffered enough in his presence today, and should he so much as look at her, I fear I will be forced to try and extract the location of his corpse from my son.’

‘Sons.’ Thor corrected, glaring at Baldric. ‘I will escort him there, personally.’

Odin clapped his son’s shoulder. ‘Good man. I will send word to your mother, she planned on seeing Ariella this evening for dinner.’

‘Yes Father, I will inform her myself if I see her on the way.’ Thor looked to the other Lord that had been in Ivan’s company. ‘Lord Frederick, please inform Fandral and indeed Hogun and Volstagg that I have become predisposed and give my apologies.’

‘Of course, I need to discuss another matter with my son anyway.’ The Lord bowed.

‘All this happened around you Frederick and you said nothing.’ Odin commented. ‘Fandral is known to be somewhat...enthusiastic, shall we call it, with women also. Surely you do not agree with this behaviour and set it down as example for your son?’

‘Of course not, Sire. I merely…’ Odin’s glare silenced his words.

‘If I hear of similar regarding you, Frederick, I will not hesitate to take what I feel is correct reparations for those on your lands also.’

‘I would never do such things, Allfather, and regarding my son, I will ensure he is aware that unwanted advances on his behalf are to be left that way after he is declined, should they occur.’

‘Very well, I suggest you do so immediately.’ Frederick bowed comically low before turning on his heels and bolting away. ‘One thing about allies Ivan, when it is time to nail colours to the mast against an enemy, one look at the enemy will send most scarpering back for cover, especially when the enemy is the king, and a king that the common people know to truly care for their interests. How long do you think you and your like would last in a revolt? Sure, you may get me, if I was in Odinsleep perhaps, but my sons, the young powerful man that can wield thunder, or the one that with my staff, can obliterate any near him, and without it, do similar with a blade, even their mother, she would have you cower. Then, of course, there are the warriors, the Einherjar, the guards, and of course, the common people. For every one guard Asgard has, there are five civilians, think about that. I know we currently have five hundred thousand guards spread over Asgard, that is two and a half million civilians. Can you think to take that many, I know you have forced them back before as individuals with fear, or killing four hundred at once with a mine collapse...then there are the eighteen hundred Einherjar, all highly trained in their own rights. Then, of course, our allies further afield. Vanaheim, Alfheim, Nidavellir, and Helheim even signed treaties with is not long ago. You cannot think you stood chance against us, surely? Take him away.’

*

Loki got Ariella to the healer’s swiftly, though none were in there on their arrival. An aide stated she would get one, and told them to just sit and wait. ‘It is getting bigger.’ Loki noted, seeing the bruise spread.

‘Why will it not stop?’

‘You are not full strength yet, you can only take so much.’ he explained, looking closely at it. When he looked up at her face again, he cleared his throat. ‘Do you...do you want me to leave?’

‘No, please stay.’ She gave him a small smile. ‘How was Alfheim?’

Loki cleared his throat. ‘Fine, other than what needed to be done.’

‘Good.’ Ariella nodded, feeling as though her attempts to speak with him were not wanted.

‘And here?’

‘Alright.’

‘You are walking around now.’

‘Yes.’

‘And breaking fingers.’

She smiled at that. ‘He should not have touched me.’

‘Indeed, he chose the wrong Aesir to do that to.’ Loki agreed. ‘Did he really say you were a concubine?’

‘Your concubine, and plaything.’ She divulged.

‘I apologise.’

‘Why?’

‘I am the reason he said those things.’

‘No Loki, he is the reason he said them, that is not your fault.’

Loki looked at her. ‘Your hair has grown.’

‘Yes.’ She put her hand through it. ‘It has a long way to go yet, but it will get there.’

‘It suits you now, there seems to be something different about it.’

‘It is clean, brushed and I am eating food with nutritional value?’ She suggested.

Loki chuckled. ‘Yes, perhaps that is it. You look so different Ari, I hardly recognise you.’

‘Is that good or bad?’

‘Good, you look healthier, it’s good to know you are okay.’

‘Yes.’

The tension grew between the pair.

‘Ari, I am so sorry.’ Loki could not take it any longer.

‘Why did you do it?’

‘I got scared, I was…Ari…’ He shook his head. ‘I was scared because the more time I spent with you, the more I wanted to spend.’

‘That does not sound overly scary.’

‘It scared me because it forced me to acknowledge that I do not control myself as much as I think I do.’

‘That makes no sense.’

‘I cannot explain it,’ Loki shrugged. ‘I can hardly make sense of it, but please, Ari, please understand, it is not because I did not wish to share your company, I find I want it too much.’

‘So you pushed me away?’

‘I understand that makes no sense, but yes.’

Ariella looked him up and down. ‘You know you are an idiot, right?’

Loki chuckled. ‘Yes, I can be, on occasion.’

‘Thank you for saving me.’

‘Anytime. I am sorry you had to endure that.’

Ariella leant against him, her head against his shoulder and sighed. ‘Girls get that all the time.’

‘You should not have to though.’ without thinking, he held her hand in his, intertwining their fingers. ‘Does it hurt?’

‘Not really. I had worse.’ she looked up at him, a small smile playing on her lips as she looked at his green eyes.

‘I missed you.’ Loki confessed. ‘It felt wrong not being around you.’

Ariella meant to only kiss his cheek, not near brave enough to do anymore, but as she leant up to do that, Loki became curious as to what she was doing and turned to look at her, meaning her small peck on the cheek resulted in her kissing his lips. She had barely done that when Loki’s hand came to her cheek and he pressed forward himself towards her.

*

Frigga rushed up the hallway, appalled and worried for all Ariella was forced to endure. When she got to the Healing Rooms, she made to enter when Eir grabbed her and pulled her back. ‘What…’ The healer placed her hand over Frigga’s mouth.

‘Shh, you have been going on about this since before you left so damn well give it a moment.’

‘What?’

Eir gently pressed open the door enough to show Frigga what was occurring inside. ‘This is terrible.’ She hissed when Eir closed the door again. ‘I owe Odin a back rub for this, he will never let me live it down that he wagered the Healing Rooms and was right.’ She sighed. But the smile on her lips would not be altered by her annoyance.

[lovemesomerafael]

Destroying the Planet to Save It     Chapter 8:  Simplest Thing In The World, Pal

Chapters 1-5   Chapter 6   Chapter 7   Read It On AO3

You don’t last long as a spy without some pretty damn good hearing.  Sure, Clint’s was now largely of the electronic variety, but that was a good thing; the hearing he was born with would not have picked up the almost nonexistent clues that someone was coming.  A spy also needs good instincts, which is why Natasha had already scoped out the control room and knew that one of the doors from the larger space led to a small office, with an even smaller closet inside.  So when Clint indicated that they needed to hide, she didn’t question him, just motioned him to follow.

It was a very small closet.

Whoever the sixth guard was, he was impressively stealthy.  Even though they knew he was there, Clint and Natasha had trouble hearing where he was in the control room.  Luckily, a spy needs cool gadgets, and Natasha had placed a miniscule camera on top of a console in the control room, where it looked like nothing but a paper fastener.  They were able to actually watch the intruder (well, technically they were the intruders, but Natasha didn’t get too hung up on finding the right word) as he stalked them.  It became obvious fairly soon that he was not positive there was anyone there.  He knew there was someone in the complex, but his body language and the way he searched while keeping alert to the hallway told them that he didn’t know he’d cornered them.  

Natasha dimmed the screen on her viewer and huddled close to Clint so they could both see.  Not that huddling was exactly optional, in a closet that wasn’t even technically a walk-in.  The only way to stand was chest to chest, and Clint’s hands went naturally to Natasha’s hips as they put their heads together, check to cheek, to watch the little screen. In the cramped quarters, her free hand had nowhere to go but to rest on his shoulder.  

The guard sat down at a console and began searching through feeds from the cameras Natasha hadn’t disabled. He didn’t appear to be looking at recordings, he was using the cameras to search for the intruders all over the complex.  That was a good thing; if he looked at recorded footage of this room, he’d find them in a matter of moments.  They didn’t want to kill him; thus far the only evidence they’d left was some fairly wild stories about a brokenhearted redhead with seriously kick-ass weed, which hopefully wouldn’t trip Arias to the fact that they’d searched his underground building.  There was no end to the dumbassery bored and unsupervised employees could get up to.  But a body would be a definite clue that Arias needed to worry.

Five minutes into the guard’s search of camera feeds, Clint and Natasha started to feel fairly confident that he wasn’t going to search recordings, and didn’t know they were there. Which meant that they were just standing in the dark, in one another’s arms, waiting.  Boredom, in this enclosed space, was not a good idea.  Over the next few moments, Natasha became increasingly aware of the way Clint smelled; his very distinctive scent that she’d never smelled on any other man.  She’d once tried to describe it to him, but could only explain that it was a clean scent with notes of freshly-cut wood and licorice.  What she hadn’t told him was how deeply it affected her.  Even now, she felt drawn to him, her body coming alive to the way he felt against her, having to fight to keep her eyes on the dim little screen.

Clint didn’t bother fighting.  As soon as it became obvious that the guard hadn’t found them and wasn’t likely to, his attention drifted from the screen and began to focus on Natasha.  He turned his head, nuzzling softly into her hair.  If he made any effort to be subtle, it didn’t work, and he abandoned it quickly.  His hands slid from her hips to the small of her back.

She looked up into his eyes, inches from her own and, silently, with a slight shake of her head and a beseeching look, tried to discourage him.  He only lifted one side of his lips in a grin she knew only too well.  

“Don’t,” she mouthed softly.

His grin faded to something more carnal as he felt her shift position, not to distance them, but to fit their bodies more closely together.  He didn’t look away.  He held her gaze, allowing his love, and his attraction, to show freely in his face, challenging her to deny her own feelings.  Like he always did.  

“I hate you,” she whispered.

She felt, more than heard, his gentle chuckle.  “I know you do.”

She was the one who kissed him.  He made sure that she always was.  Her full lips softly captured his, sweet and familiar, yet somehow also forbidden, trembling with all that she suppressed.  The sixth guard was entirely forgotten as their mouths moved against each other, her hand behind his neck unconsciously pressing him to her.

When she pulled away from the long kiss, eyes closed tight, Clint leaned forward, following her lips with his, trying to capture one last moment.  But she looked down and away, so that only their foreheads touched.  

“I love you,” he sighed softly.

The ghost of a smile was all she could manage, incongruous though it was with the pain etched on her exquisite features.  “I know you do.”

“How about we get rid of this prick and go home?”

Natasha glanced at the screen again, then looked up and simply nodded.  Clint kissed her on the forehead and opened the closet door.  

When all was said and done, he did feel a little guilty about putting the sixth guy naked in the bunk with guard number five.  Still, it was amusing to imagine what stories they’d tell themselves when they awoke with no memory of how they’d ended up naked together.  Clint supposed that, if he needed to, the sixth guy could tell himself he’d kicked the fifth out of bed.  The point was, whatever they said to themselves or each other, it was very, very unlikely that they’d say anything to anyone else.  

*****

Steve stood looking out the windows of his hotel room at the sleeping city of Atlanta.  It was late, and answers were coming way too slowly, which meant he should sleep now, while there was nothing he could do.  He hated this part.  He was lousy at waiting, always had been.  But he was no scientist, and he was no Tony Stark.  Right this minute, he felt completely useless: a finely-tuned, exquisitely-engineered fighting machine, with nothing and no one to fight.  

His phone rang, startling him with the insistent ring tone he’d apparently thought was a good idea at one time.  He got a second shock when he saw who was calling.  Instinctively standing at attention, he touched the screen.  

“Mr. President?”

“Steve, forgive me calling at this hour, I hope I didn’t wake you.”

“No, Sir.  I was awake.”

“I wanted to ask you for a favor.”

“Of course, Sir.  How can I help?”

“Well, as you know, Adam Lattimore is going to be lying in state for forty-eight hours, starting tomorrow morning.  I’ve been thinking that maybe it would be a good idea to have you and some of your team there, as inconspicuously as possible, just keeping an eye on things.  We can’t know Adam wasn’t a target in this thing somehow.”

Steve’s brow furrowed. He didn’t think so.  He also didn’t know why that would mean he needed to be protected now that he was dead.  “Well, Sir, as you know, Director Coulson’s arranged to have S.H.I.E.L.D. agents there the entire time…”

“I know, I know, but I’d feel better if it was you.”

“I’m in Atlanta right now. And, really, Sir, that’s S.H.I.E.L.D’s area.  They’re invisible.  I’m kind of… not.”

“That’s what Phil Coulson’s telling me.”

“He’s right.”

President Burke’s sigh was profound enough that Steve realized he wasn’t the only one deeply concerned about whatever was happening.  “Do you know anything?  Phil’s got S.H.I.E.L.D. all over this thing, and I know Banner is holed up in New York working on it with some meteorological expert.  Are you getting anywhere?  I do not like the idea that some maniac’s out there with the capability to brew up storms like the one today.”

“Tony Stark’s working on something he found.  He thinks he might be able to trace the source of the energy using, um…  You know what?  If I tried to explain it, I’d just get it hilariously wrong.  That’s why you really want to talk to Sharon Carter about this.  She understands it.  I don’t.”

“I just got off the phone with her.  And yes, she explained all that.  To be honest, Steve, I’m just trying to keep the pressure on.  By the way, how are Sergeant Barnes and Joss Emerson?  I understand they’re at Emory.  Are they getting what they need?”

“Yes, Sir.  It’s a little hard to get Bucky to sit still for doctors, but Sharon helped with that.  And with his healing capacity, he’ll be back to normal in a couple days.  Agent Emerson needed surgery, but she’s stable and expected to make a full recovery.  As I understand it, the only real problem is that Bucky won’t leave her side and he’s scaring the staff.”  

Steve heard the President laugh quietly.  

“I like the sound of that,” Burke said.  “She’s one of mine.  I know Fred Markoff likes to think the Secret Service reports to him, but when they’re protecting me and mine, I take it personally.  And Joss is one of the best.  She’s special.  You tell Barnes if she needs anything, to let me know.”

“I’ll tell him, Sir.”

“Good.  And keep me informed about these phenomena.  Something about this, Steve…”

“I know, Sir.  And we’ll get to the bottom of it.”

“You do that.  Good night, Captain.”

“Good night, Sir.”

Steve blew out his breath. Not really a phone call he’d needed right then.  At least he’d gotten out of babysitting Lattimore’s body.  That was something.  He really didn’t think there was going to be any trouble at the Capitol; he doubted Lattimore had ever been a target.  But Steve really did not fucking need the damn president calling him to ratchet up the pressure.  He knew they needed to figure out what was happening.  And right now, Steve Rogers couldn’t do jack shit about it except wait and worry.  

This was probably one of those moments when Sharon would tell him that worrying was a waste of energy. She’d say that he should let the experts handle things and take care of himself until he was needed.  But he had no idea how the hell to do that.  Pacing in front of the hotel room windows wasn’t helping, but he knew for a fact he couldn’t sleep.  He thought about Sharon.  What would she tell him to do?  

Steve smiled to himself. Maybe she’d tell him to just lie back, like she had the other day.  Just the thought of how deliciously shocked he’d been when she’d seduced him, and how unbelievably good she’d made him feel, had his body instantly on board with the idea of calling her room.  But if he did, she’d think it was just what people now called a “booty call,” a concept he found distasteful.  To his 1940’s sensibilities, it seemed utterly disrespectful, and Steve wasn’t willing to treat a woman like that.  Especially not Sharon Carter.

Especially not Sharon Carter.  

Because the thing was, by making the first move, she’d called his bluff.  He’d pretended not to have any deep feelings for her, and to be interested in no more than laughs and a few kisses.  He couldn’t even remember now why he’d thought she would be satisfied with that.  He should have known a woman like Sharon wouldn’t be, and would ask for what she wanted.  But then, he’d been trying to have it both ways. He wanted to be with her.  He’d wanted that pretty much since they’d first met in the hallway of their apartment building, and his heated attraction had exploded into something much more serious when he discovered the courageous and brilliant S.H.I.E.L.D. agent she really was.  His feelings for her had only grown with time and with all she’d shown herself to be.  But Steve also knew he had nothing to offer her.  He should never have started anything.  And now…  Now he knew she wanted him, too.  Now she was on his mind constantly.  Now part of the reason he couldn’t sleep was that she was just down the hall, beautiful and generous and with feelings for him that meant she’d open the door if he knocked.  

All he wanted was to knock. He shook with how much he wanted to knock on her door.  But he couldn’t.  He already felt way too much for her.  

Steve’s phone chirped.

Bucky: Hey, dumbass.  You’re awake worrying, right?  Bored.  Call me.

Steve smiled at Bucky’s text.  He marveled, as he always did, at the idea of the two of them texting each other at all. The boys they’d been would have thought texting was the coolest sort of spy tech.  

Bucky answered on the first ring with, “I hate hospitals.  Tell me again what the hell I’m doin’ here?”

“Trying to make time with a pretty girl.”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Is it working?”

“Eh.  Yes and no.  She tried to get me to kiss her.”

“Sounds like it’s working, then.”

“She was sauced on pain meds at the time.”

“That does explain why a woman like that would want to kiss you.”  

“Ha. Ha.”

“How are you doin’? How’s the ankle?”

“Better.  Be good as new by tomorrow.  Ribs still hurt.”

“How’s Joss?”

“Sleeping off the drugs. You shoulda seen her, Stevie.  She was really in La La Land, said the cutest things.  I think she likes me.”

“Yeah?  What makes you think so?”

“She called me gorgeous and said she has a real thing for me.  Hey, what’s a Kardashian?”

“They’re bad guys on Star Trek, I think.  You haven’t gotten to the ones with them yet.”

Bucky’s voice went quiet and thoughtful.  “Huh. Okay.  Weird.”  

“So, how’d you know I was pacing and stewing?”  Steve asked.                            

“Known you a while, pal,” Steve could hear Bucky’s smirk through the phone.

“Actually, I was just standin’ here trying to figure out how not to do it, but I’m not havin’ any luck. I told you Sharon read me the riot act about it.”

“Think you just answered your own question, there.”

“How so?”

“Sharon, you meatball. I’m sure she’d be more than happy to take your mind off your troubles.  And you’d be more than happy to let her.  So what the hell are you standin’ there talkin’ to me for?”

“C’mon, Bucky, I’m not gonna call her at this hour.  That would only mean one thing.”

“Uh-huh.  And?”

“And you’re terrible! I’m not just gonna call her and say, ‘Hey, I’m having a hard time waiting for the eggheads to figure this thing out, why don’t you distract me?’  She’s better than that.”

“Except I think that’s exactly what she told you to do, isn’t it?  And I, for one, heartily approve of a girl who would say something like that. Why don’t you lose the altar boy uniform, huh?”

“Stop it.  You’re talking about her like she’s… Betty Simkins.”

“She is Betty Simkins, Stevie.  All girls are Betty Simkins these days.  You don’t hear me complainin’.”

“You always were a horndog.”

“Damn straight.  You should try it, especially now that you’re not gonna snap like a twig if some girl wants to hug you.”

“For Pete’s sake, Buck.”

“All I’m sayin’ is, you worry too much.  If a girl like Sharon wants to help you knock it off, then you’re a fool if you don’t let her.  What is your problem with her, anyway?  You like her, right?”

“’Course I do.  A lot.  But you know I can’t date anyone.”

“Why the hell not?”

“Because I never know when I’m gonna need to go running off to fight some freak with a cape who gives himself a scary nickname and tries to hurt people.  And I never know if I’m comin’ back.”

“Which is exactly why you should be dating every chance you get.  Besides, I’m the guy at your six, and you better believe I’m not givin’ up girls.”

“You don’t think it’s… unfair?  I mean, if she wants more than just a casual thing?”

“Does she?”

“She says she loves me.”

“What?  She said that?  You really are a dumbass if she said she loves you and you’re alone in a hotel room talkin’ to me.  I fear for your sanity, I really do.  Even more than usual.”

“Yeah, yeah…  I’m tryin’ to do the right thing here.”

“Well, try a little harder. Because there’s nothing unfair about being with a girl you really like, especially if she says she loves you.  What’s unfair is treatin’ her like you been treatin’ her.  Like you don’t care.”

“I don’t know…”

“Then trust your Uncle Bucky.  I got a lot more experience than you do.  You like this girl, and you should.  She’s great. I’m tellin’ ya’, just put on somethin’ nice and go down to her room, and see if you can’t talk her into a little horizontal polo.  She deserves some attention, and you need to turn your damn fool brain off.  Two birds, one stone.”

“You make it sound so simple.”

“Simplest thing in the world, pal.”

Steve sighed.  “All right.  Fine.  I’ll call her and see if she’s awake.  If she is, then…  We’ll see.”

“Good man.  Make me and Betty Simkins proud.”

Steve was chuckling as he pushed the “end” button on his phone.  But it took him a while to find the courage to…  Well, he didn’t find the courage to call Sharon.  He texted her, instead.

Steve Rogers: Are you awake?

Sharon Carter: Hi.  U OK?

Steve Rogers: Sure.  Just having trouble sleeping.  

Sharon Carter: Want some company?

Steve smiled.  Of course Sharon would be generous and direct. For a guy with as many hang-ups as Steve had, the fact that Sharon just spoke her mind was yet another thing he found wildly attractive about her.  It reminded him of Peggy.  He’d liked that about Peggy, too.

Steve Rogers: It’s not too late?

Sharon Carter: Not if you’re stressing about this energy thing like I think you are.  

Steve Rogers: Trying not to.  Seems to be what I do best.

Sharon Carter: No, it isn’t.  😊  Come on down. I’m in 1245.

Huh.  Apparently she wasn’t too troubled by the booty call thing.  

*****

Anita had masterfully bobbed and weaved all afternoon and evening.  So far, although Arias seemed to think things were going very well between them, he’d only managed to kiss her on the hand, the cheek, and the side of her head.  The amount of stroking of her arms, hair, back, and hips would have gotten another guy at least a withering verbal takedown, if not a semi-permanent groin injury, but she was holding herself in check because she had learned some very interesting things about Jarman Arias.  

She needed to talk to Sam.

At one am., Sam wandered out to the beach, apparently a little the worse for drink and with a bikini-clad woman on each arm.  He saw Anita trying to fend off a particularly egregious pass from Arias, and excused himself from his new friends for a moment.

“Hey, Baby, I haven’t seen you for a while.  You doin’ all right?”

“I’m A-OK, Sam.  You?”

Oh.  That was the signal.  Guess it’s time.  “Well, I would like to talk to you for a minute.”

“Well…”  Anita looked slyly at Arias.  “It’s not a particularly good time, right this minute.  Can it wait?”

“No, Anita, it fucking well can’t wait.  Excuse us, Señor Arias.  I’d like to talk to my girlfriend for a minute.”

Arias smiled smugly.  “Of course, Sam.  Is that all right with you, princesa?”

“I’ll just be a minute,” she purred, moving away as though it was the last thing she wanted to do.

Sam walked Anita several feet until they were standing in the wet sand, where the edge of a wave occasionally reached their toes.  

“You ready?”

“There are no words for how ready I am.  And I need to talk to you.”

“Yeah, I’ve done pretty well, myself.”  Sam lifted his chin a fraction of an inch and raised his voice.  “What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”

“Sam, just relax, OK, Baby?” Anita matched his volume.  “You made some friends, it looks like.  This is what we-“

Sam leaned in toward Anita and spoke softly, as though angrily.  “This is me saying something really rude.”

“What did you just say to me?”  Anita shrieked.  

“You heard me.”  Sam now leaned back and crossed his arms.

“C’mon, Sammy…  Don’t be like that.  You know I love you.  I’m just havin’ a little fun!  You go ahead, you have fun, too.  We said this was a free weekend, didn’t we?”

For the next five minutes, Sam and Anita argued while Arias watched, amused.  Their fight began at a fairly low level, but developed into one of those drunken, all-out lovers’ spats that Sam had promised himself long ago he’d never be part of, at least for real.  Right now, he was actually enjoying it quite a bit.  When Anita began to push and shove at Sam and their voices raised to the level that others on the beach began to notice, Arias walked over, greasy smile fully deployed.  

“Oh, now, Sam, you’re hurting my guests’ feelings,” he said, indicating the two women who’d come out to the beach with Sam.  Neither looked particularly pleased.  “Why spend time on unpleasantness when you could be having a very pleasant time with these ladies?”

Sam turned a fierce scowl on him.  “I know you ain’t tryna tell me how to talk to my woman.”

“Sam, mira-“

“Yeah.  ‘Course you are.  You been all over her all day,” Sam slurred, having just a bit of trouble keeping his footing on the sand.  

“Sammy, please…” Anita whined.

“Nuh-uh.  You got a choice here, Anita.  You best decide.”

With that, he turned and began to stalk in a slightly crooked line back to the villa.  Anita, her eyes full of distress, looked from him to Arias and back.  With a little cry, she began to run after Sam.  

“Sammy, wait! Please, Baby, don’t be like that!”

Arias watched, his amusement gone for the moment, until he realized his good fortune.  “Well, ladies, it seems we’ve been deserted.  Won’t you join me for a nightcap?”

The two women who had come down to the beach with Sam didn’t hesitate to stroll back up the sand with Arias.

It occurred to Sam that, since their room was being watched, he and Anita were going to have to figure out how to end their argument in a somewhat believable way.  He needn’t have worried.  Anita never broke character, grabbing needily onto his arm as she reached him on the wide patio and begging him tipsily to forgive her.  He remained stonily silent until they got to their room, where he finally turned to her.  When he did, what he saw in her eyes knocked his brain instantly and completely offline.

“I’m sorry, Baby,” she purred, placing her body against his and putting her arms around his neck. She was panting, and clearly not from the walk up from the beach.  “I love you. Only you.”  She kissed him then, mouth open and hotly demanding.  “C’mon, Sammy, let me make it up to you.”

Sure, Sam had done a little role playing in his time, but this was a new one.  He wanted to think it through, decide whether this might mean for him and Anita in the real world.  He liked her. He wanted to date her, get to know her. And this would be the first time they had sex.  Even if it wasn’t, under normal circumstances, he’d never engage in something like this without a very frank discussion beforehand.  Boundaries.  Maybe even a safe word.  But Anita was committed, and she didn’t seem in the least concerned about the cameras. In fact, Sam wondered if the idea that they were likely being watched wasn’t a little bit of a turn on for her.  Like it was for him.

“You let him touch you.” He growled, looking down at her and remaining rigid, not putting his arms around her.  

“I know, Baby,” she said, kissing him some more and rubbing her body against his.  “He’s rich.  He’s important.  And I thought you and me had an agreement.  But if you’re not OK with it, then I won’t do it, Baby.  I’m here.  I’m here with you, Hmmm?”

She slid her hands from his neck to his collarbones and over to his shoulders, pushing his shirt down his arms and letting it fall to the floor.  Now he did the same, pushing her lacy cover-up off.  She reached up to untie the top of her red bikini while he untied the straps on her back, keeping his eyes on hers the entire time.  

“You forgive me, Baby? Will you let me make it up to you?” She asked, taking a small step backwards to let the top fall from her and give him the opportunity to fill his eyes with her full breasts.  Then he filled his hands with them.

“You let him touch you here?”  He asked, keeping that cruel edge to his voice and on his face as he cupped her and dragged his thumbs across her erect, brown nipples.  

She sucked in her breath. “No.  Only you, Sam.”  

“Damn right, only me. Now take those bottoms off and lay down.”

Oh, shit.  No turning back now.  Sam was way into this all of a sudden.  The fire in Anita’s eyes and the shudder in her breathing told him he wasn’t alone.  She was very quickly naked and lying in the center of the bed, panting and looking at him with a hunger he could see even in the darkness of the room lit only by the flickering light from the patio torches outside.  He took his time dropping his shorts and stood for a moment, desire coiling in his belly as he watched her eyeing his cock, already fully hard.

He knelt on the bed and crawled to her, coming to rest with his weight on his knees between her legs and his hands on either side of her shoulders, not touching her.  She was panting and the slightest sheen of sweat glowed on her face.  

“You made me mad, Anita.”

“I’m sorry, Sam. Please...”

“You know what I gotta do, don’t you.”

She took in a shuddering gasp and nodded, eyes wide, as he pushed her legs further apart with his knees, leaning down until the tip of his cock was at her entrance, which he noticed was wet as hell.  There was no foreplay, no warning, unless the last three days could be counted as extended foreplay, which Sam suddenly realized they pretty much had been.  He shoved roughly into her, both of them crying out as he did.  

“You’re a fucking bad girl, Anita.”

“I am,” she grunted.  “I am.  I’m sorry.  I’m so sorry, Sam!”

“Whose are you, huh? Who do you belong to?”

“You!  I belong to you.  Only you!”

“Anybody else get to fuck you?”

“No!  Just you!”

“Who else gets this pussy?”

“Nobody, Sam.  I belong to you.  I’m yours…  Fuck!”

“Anybody else get to make you come?”

“Just you, Sam!”

He kept up an intense rhythm, pounding brutally into her, feeling her pulling at him and pushing up to him with her feet on the mattress, letting him know she was into what he was doing.  

“You’re so fucking beautiful, Anita.  Makes me crazy, thinkin’ about that fat fuck puttin’ his hands on you.  You’re mine.  Say it! You’re mine!”

“I’m yours!  Yes, I’m-  I’m yours, only yours!”

Sam began to kiss her roughly, invading her mouth with his tongue.  He hoped his uncontrolled lust looked, to the cameras, like the anger and possessiveness he was supposed to be feeling.  “Fuckin’ mine, Anita.  All of you, mine.”  

He continued to kiss her roughly, moving his mouth down her neck, not caring whether he was leaving marks and kind of hoping he was.  He had to pull out of her to move lower, and also to keep himself from coming already, the way she was fucking him as hard as he was fucking her.  He devoured her body with harsh kisses and nips, actually growling from time to time in his blind need.  Her groans, the way she kept pushing up toward his mouth, reassured him that she was as into this as he was.  

When he entered her with two fingers, she ground down onto them and threw her arms up over her head, abandoning herself completely to him.  He was a little ashamed of the teeth marks he left on her hip on that one, but only for the briefest of moments.  When he kissed and licked his way to her mound, he looked up to see her watching him, her face a mask of purest wanton desire.  

“Say it.”

“I’m yours.  Yours,” she breathed.

“Anybody else get to eat this pussy?”

“Nobody.  Only you, Baby.”

Sam went to work with his tongue, keeping up a sure, steady rhythm with his fingers as he teased the hard nub of her clit.  As he licked and sucked at her, moaning and murmuring filthy praise, Anita hissed a stream of overwrought words of pleasure in Spanish, grinding herself against his mouth. He had to keep from rubbing his leaking cock against the mattress, listening to the animal sounds she made.  Many steamy, groan-filled minutes later, Sam began to feel her muscles tensing, and knew that she was close.

Without warning, he bent his knees and pushed up, putting his arms under her and rolling them over so that she was sprawled atop him.  

“You want to come, Baby?”

“Fuck yeah, Sam.  Please.”

“I want you to come on my cock.  Show me you’re mine.  Let me see you come on my cock so I know it’s me you love.  Can you do that?”

“Oh, yeah.  I can do that for you.  I want to do that for you.” She put her knees on the mattress, putting her weight on them and using her thighs to lift and lower herself on him.  Reaching down, she began to finger herself, looking at Sam the whole time.  “Like this, Baby?  This what you want?”

“Yeah, that’s right.  Shit, Baby, you look so fuckin’ good right now, you have no idea.  You’re so beautiful…”

“And I’m yours, Sam.  I’m all yours.  I’m… oh, shit…”

“Come for me, Baby.  C’mon.  Show me who you belong to-“

Anita tried to keep her eyes on Sam’s, but as she moved more and more wantonly against him, rubbing herself faster and faster, they squeezed shut and she threw her head back.  “Oh, fuck, Sam!  Fuck, your dick is so good-“  With that, she gave a series of hard shivers and shouted through gritted teeth as she rode was felt to Sam to be a powerful orgasm.  As she spasmed around him, Sam gave himself over to the sensations, bucking up into her until he, too, came with a cry loud enough to wake the rest of the house, had anyone been sober, or sleeping.  Of course, no one was.

[criticalotterstudies]

WHEN I came down here everything was cool. I felt fresh and had been cleared to play. I felt like my concussion problems were behind me. I was actually more worried about the state of my knees.

In England it is a standard procedure for all players to perform a computerised pre-season head test. There are a few different versions of the test used around the world, but they are all basically the same thing. They take about 10 minutes sitting at a computer. The test establishes a baseline score that you'll have to match later in the season if you cop a head knock. The problem with the test is that players can manipulate it by under-performing so that later if you have a head knock and you have to beat it you normally can. In my league days the boys all beat the test and everyone kept on playing.

In the back of your mind you are aware of the dangers, but you are paid to get out there and play and you want to play. You never think anything bad is going to happen to you. So you just do it.

Some clubs don't even bother with the computerised test. You evaluate yourself through a questionnaire. When I got knocked out the first time at Montpellier I just said 'oh nah I'm fine'. They ask if you were dizzy, feeling fatigued, in a daze, headaches, etc, on a scale of 0-10. If your total score was too high you'd be stood down.

That first French concussion came in my fifth game, against Toulon. I clashed heads with someone in a ruck. I felt terrible, but decided to bite the bullet. When you come to a new club and you are an international player you are supposed to impress. I was on the biggest contract of my career, so there was a load of pressure to deliver. You don't want to let anybody down. You have to be out there playing.

I played the next week and got knocked out again. A prop was running past me and accidently kneed me in the head as I off-loaded a ball. It was just slight tap but it got me in the wrong place. This time I was really worried. They rested me for a week. That's the French rest. Normally you'd have two-four weeks of doing nothing. In France it was 'okay we'll rest you for a week and you'll be fine'.

There was constant pressure from the coaches. Most coaches don't care about what happens later on in your life. It is about the here and now. Everyone wants success. They just think 'if we pay you this you are going to do this'.

Players are just pieces of meat. When the meat gets too old and past its use-by date, the club just buys some more. You get meat that's bruised or damaged, the club goes and buys some more.

I sat out for a week but I wasn't right. I was back to having constant migraines. I was pretty much in a daze. Things had got so bad I couldn't even remember my PIN number. My card got swallowed up twice. My memory was shot.

Dosing up on smelling salts, Panadol, high caffeine sports drinks and any medical drugs like that to try and stop the dizziness, fatigue and migraines was the only way I could get through trainings and matches.

I went through the next four or five months like that. Pretty much a zombie.

LOOKING BACK I could have prevented a lot of the pain I caused myself by telling the doctors much earlier how I really felt. But I wasn't thinking straight. You are under constant pressure from all angles - coaches, team mates, fans - and you don't want to let them down. I also wanted to play on to achieve my bonuses, especially when you know your career is coming to an end.

Somehow I got through 11 games but by then I was falling apart. I would try not to get involved in rucks because I was terrified of getting knocked out again. My performances were terrible and eventually I was dropped. It was the first time I'd ever been happy about it. I was just happy I was going to give my head a rest.

I had three weeks of no games and I thought that would sort me out. But heading into my comeback match I was knocked out at training. It wasn't even a head clash. One of the boys just ran a decoy line and bumped into me and I was knocked out. When you are getting knocked out and no one is even touching your head you realise things have got pretty bad.

But I still didn't tell anyone. I played the match and got knocked out in the first tackle. I tackled a guy and I was out. Asleep.

I'd been telling the docs on the field that it was my shoulder, I had a stinger, or I was just a little dazed. But after the game I knew I had to do something. I phoned my mum and my agent. They said I had to put my health first. At a team meeting our coach Fabien Galthie, a former French halfback, grilled me for lying in the ruck and giving a penalty away. I didn't want to admit that I was lying there was because I had been knocked out. It was humiliating. Galthie was blowing me up in front of my team mates and I just held my tongue.

Afterwards he came to me to talk about my performance. I was like "I'm over it, I have to come clean". I told him the reason I had given away the penalty and my performances had been below par was because I was knocked out and suffering from concussions. He couldn't believe it.

The club sent me to the Montpellier Hospital for scans. Sitting in a dark room with electrodes attached to my head looking a big blue screen, I felt like a patient in a psychiatric hospital.

I was told to count in my head while doctors monitored my brain function. I did tests for memory and vision. They show me seven or eight pictures of, say, a tree, couch, bird or a bike. When they turned the page and asked me what I'd just seen I could only remember one or two things. The specialist showed me on chart the average score for someone with a normal brain. My score was just above someone with learning difficulties.The specialist explained that my brain was so traumatised, had swollen so big that even just getting a tap to the body would knock me out.

He referred to me to another top specialist in Paris but he was very clear - I had to retire immediately.

Back at the club I broke down in tears telling Galthie.

Everyone dreams of going out on the right note, winning a final and going out with everything intact. I had been told I couldn't do what I'd been doing all my life. I was gutted. The club was shocked.

But even then they tried to overrule the medical advice. They said they'd rest me for a couple of months and see if I could recover.

I knew I was being told it was over but I'd heard of guys taking six-month sabbaticals and coming back. I got in touch with Michael Lipman, the former Bath captain, who had been forced to retire by multiple concussions. He said he'd experienced exactly the same stuff that was going on with me, and advised me to listen to the specialists and stop playing.

https://www.nzherald.co.nz/nz/news/article.cfm?c_id=1&objectid=11264856