#castor macclyde

[childrenoflight-darkness-nothing]

second sleeve.

I'm totally stealing inspiration from E's brother with his compass tattoo. but. hnnnnng. I love it. so the other arm. has like the compass and the map thing on the inside of his forearm. and you see the edges kinda fade on it, so it fades into something like the second picture.

castor tattoos: a thread

[mrs-mikko-rantanen]

ok, I honestly can’t think of a title, but it’s very important to me that you understand that this is what Ewan looks like here, teen!ewan, like 17 years old, ok?

Anyway, 2936 words, I think my last word count update may have been the characters, not the word count. It is Wednesday, so this is pretty whumpy. 

   Ewan grinned as Castor passed him a firearm. He loaded the gun and winked at his older brother as he snapped his gum a little. Castor rolled his eyes.

   “You’d better get this all out of your system now, Ewan. It’s not a good idea for you to be this cocky on a mission.” Castor warned, passing the seventeen year old a few extra magazines.

   “Ahhh, c’mon Cas.” Ewan said, wrinkling up his nose a little, “I have been on one or two missions before, ya know?”

   Castor fought a sigh by clenching his jaw. “Yeah? And how well have those all gone?”

   “Just swimmingly, thank you.” Ewan said with a proud smile as he tucked a knife into his boot before pulling his pant leg down over it.

   “Look, Ewan, you just need to go in and observe, ok? You aren’t doing anything more than that. Just some basic surveillance…”

   Ewan scoffed, “Are you kidding? This is full blown undercover work!”

   He was more excited than he thought he had ever been before. They had gotten wind of a meet up, where important information was supposed to be swapped between the opposing side’s contacts. On top of that, one of them was supposed to be a spy. Some one who had been causing a lot of problems for the Renegades. No one was sure if they were an insider, or just a really really good hacker, but Ewan was about to be the one to find out.

   He had orders to keep his distance, unless the spy and their contact made a run for it. Then, and only then, was Ewan allowed to pursue them. And God, did he hope they’d make a run for it.

   One of the Renegade leaders called for the team to load up, and Ewan flashed a quick smile to Castor.

   He spit his gum into a nearby trashcan, then nodded to Castor. “Have fun babysitting.” He said, digging his lighter and a cigarette out of his pocket as he walked backwards in the direction of the mission’s car.

   Castor scowled and grabbed the lighter from Ewan’s hands, just as the younger boy was putting it up to light the cigarette.    “Ewan, c’mon! We talked about this!”

   Ewan scowled and swiped for the lighter as Castor held it up, just out of his reach. “Give it back, Cas!” He snapped.

   “No! This is getting ridiculous, really!” Castor pocketed the lighter quickly, then reached over and grabbed the cigarette quickly as well, tossing it into the trashcan. “Look, just...just go.”

   Ewan let out an angry growl and turned his back on his brother, offering a middle finger thrown over his shoulder as he stormed off in the direction of the car, shouldering his backpack full of mission equipment.

********

   Ewan sat down on the bench, and pulled out his phone. His eyes were peeled as he scanned the area for--

   There.

   Exactly where they’d gotten the tip: a man in his twenties was sitting at a table, glancing around nervously.

   “Eyes on target.” Ewan muttered, glancing back down at his phone as he pretended to check some text message. He glanced back up and frowned. Another person was approaching the man from behind, quickly. They were wearing a dark sweatshirt with the hood pulled up, hiding their face from Ewan’s view. They walked passed the sitting man quickly, hands in their pockets. As they passed, they flicked their hand to the side, dropping a flash drive on the man’s table. He jumped a little, then quickly snatched it up, stuffing it into his own pocket.

   “What?” Ewan scowled, “No, no that can’t be it…”    “What’s happening?” Adair’s voice spoke in his ear from the base, where he was running the radios.

   “He...there was no sit-down. They just gave him a flash drive and then kept moving, that was it.” Ewan felt his anger rising, “The big ‘hand off’ was just a stupid flash drive. We’re not gonna get any information unless we get it.”

   He heard his twin sigh in frustration. “Did you at least get a look at whoever dropped it off?”

   “No.” Ewan growled, “They had a hoodie on, I couldn’t see anything. Wait a second…” The man checked his phone, then looked over his shoulder quickly. Ewan glanced back at his own phone, trying to hide the fact he’d been watching the other man.

   “What?”

   “May’ve been made.” Ewan grumbled, feeling a twinge of disappointment as he held his breath, watching carefully out of his peripheral vision. The man stood up quickly, looking quite distinctly in Ewan’s direction.

   “Target’s getting ready to move.” Ewan reported, shifting so that he’d be ready to spring up and follow the man.

   “Got it. Fall back to the car.”

   Ewan said nothing, eyes still glued to the man with the flash drive. He looked like a trapped animal, trying to decide which way to go.

   “Ewan?” Adair knew what was about to happen, Ewan could tell. There was a note of warning in his twin’s voice as he spoke, “Ewan, get back to the-”

   The man checked his phone one more time, looked directly at Ewan, and then bolted.

   “In pursuit.” Ewan said, quickly leaping up from the bench and following the man as he sprinted through the city streets, shoving people out of his way.

   Ewan scrambled to keep up with him, trying desperately to close the gap between them. He threw quick apologies to the people he slipped passed and bumped into, all the while, ignoring Adair’s shouts for him to go back to the getaway car. The man ducked into an alley, and Ewan grinned. He’d spent enough time in the city to be rather familiar with a number of the streets and side roads. The alley that the man had just ducked into was a dead end, and Ewan would have him trapped. He swung around into the alley, feet screeching a little on the pavement at the sudden change in direction. He grunted a little as something stung his neck, and he stumbled a little. His vision started to fog as he tried to slow down, blinking heavily. Something caught his foot, and he tripped, falling to his knees. He was barely able to get his hands out in time to catch himself.

   “Ewan? What’s happ--” Adair’s voice sounded far away, like Ewan’s head was underwater. He put a hand to his neck where the stinging was, and his fingers found something stuck there. He blinked heavily, head swimming as he tried to stand back up.

   Someone grabbed him. He wasn’t sure where they were coming from. His vision had all but blacked out by now, and he could only make out vague shapes and senses of movement. He lashed out and writhed against the rough hands that grabbed his arm, trying to wrench himself out of their grasp. More hands fell on him; his other arm, his throat, one took a fistful of his hair, and another wrapped an arm around his stomach.

   He gasped like a fish out of water, his eyes blinking rapidly as his body fell limp, his struggling coming to an end as the tranquilizer took him over.

********

   Ewan blinked heavily as he came to, his head swimming and mouth dry. He grunted as his hands strained against the rough ropes that bit into his wrists, holding his hands down, his forearms pressed tightly to what he assumed was the arms of a chair. He blinked again, trying to get a sense of where he was. He frowned when nothing came into view, just more darkness. Where was he? What had happened…?

   And then it started to click back into place. The mission, the flash drive, the dart...all of it came crashing back into place. He jolted as he woke up more, head thrashing around even though he knew it was no use; that the bag over his head was going to block his vision no matter how quickly he writhed. As if on cue, a door slammed open. Ewan jumped, attempting to gain a sense of direction as the sound echoed all around him.

   The cloth was ripped away from his face, throwing his long bangs into his eyes, along with the stigning light from above him. He winced, blinking and squirming, trying to see who had come into the room. As his eyes adjusted, he fought a bit of a grin. Standing across the small room from him was a very pretty girl. She was a few years older than him, though he doubted she was older than twenty five. She wore tight blue jeans and a dusty blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Her long, dark brown hair was held out of her face in a loose ponytail. She smiled at him, tilting her head.

   “You’re a little young to be a Renegade, aren’t you?” She teased.

   “Well, you’re a little pretty to be working for the other guys, aren’t you?” Ewan said, trying to match her tone.

   She laughed a little at him. “Charming, really. I think you and I will get along quite well.”  She stood up from the table that she’d been leaning against, stepping a little closer too him. “Do you have a name, then?”

   Ewan grinned a little wider, trying to ignore the way his heart was beating in terror. “Just call me Charming, sweethear-”

   He never even saw her raise her hand. It was just there, stinging across his cheek as she struck him.

   “That’s not what I asked, now was it?” She said, her voice still dripping with the same charm as before, “I asked if you had a name.”

   “Of course I have a name.” Ewan was actually glad for the ropes now. They held his shaking hands down, keeping the shaking hidden from her. She would never know how badly he was trembling.

   “Mind telling me what it is then, dear?”

   Ewan swallowed hard, his mind reeling as he tried to remember the training they’d given him on base. “Ewan.” First names are fine, first names are fine, first names are--

   “Ewan….?” Her voice trailed off, prompting him.

   He forced another grin. “I’ll trade you. You tell me your’s and I’ll give up mine.”

   The slap landed in the exact same place as the last one had. He gasped a little at the impact, despite his best efforts not to.

   “What’s your last name, Ewan?” Her tone was starting to get harder. “Trust me, this whole thing will go a lot easier if you just answer the questions the first time. Last name.” It wasn’t a question. It was an order. He saw her hand twitch this time, and he flinched.

   “MacClyde.” It was involuntary. He’d never meant to tell her. Her hand stilled, and the sweet, almost flirty tone returned to her voice now.

   “There? See? That wasn’t so bad!” She reached out now, running a delicate finger along his jaw. Ewan winced at the contact as her nail dragged along the red mark left by the slaps. “I’m afraid I won’t be able to be so forgiving with the rest of the questions, Ewan.” She sighed. “They’re just a little more important, so I’m going to need your cooperation.”

   Ewan was suddenly aware of how cold the room was as she smiled at him again, her eyelashes fluttering.

   “What were you doing in the plaza today?”

   “Just...enjoying the view.” His voice shook, and he hated himself for it. Her hand shifted quick as a snake, tangling in his curls and gripping his hair tightly, pulling his head back a little.

   “What view?”

   “I was...just...just...just waiting.” Ewan stammered as her nails dug into his scalp.

   “For what?” She twisted her wrist, pulling his head back even farther.

   “N-nothing! A-the bus!”

   Her other hand rested on the back of the chair, and now she pushed backwards, tipping the chair so that it was tilted on its back legs. Ewan wasn’t sure, but he thought that the only thing keeping him from tipping back onto the floor was the constant pressure on his hair.

   “I warned you Ewan. I can’t be as patient with these questions.” She hissed, “Enough beating around the bush. What, exactly, where you doing in the plaza?”

   He whimpered as she twisted his hair again.

   “I-I was watching. I was watching a man, to see who met up with him. He was supposed to be getting information, and I was supposed to intercept it.” The words fell from Ewan’s lips like rain. There was no stopping them.

   “And did you?”

   “No.” His voice cracked as he shook his head, just a small movement. She pulled his hair, stretching his head back and sending the chair into a steeper angle. “I swear!” He yelped, “I swear, I didn’t intercept anything! I didn’t even see who it was--”

   “You saw the messenger?”

   “Not really, I just saw--”

   Her grip on his hair evaporated, and the chair fell backwards. His head smashed into the hard floor, and his ears rang with the impact.

   “You saw them.”

   “No! Not really! They had a hoodie on, that was all I saw, I didn’t see their face, I swear!” Ewan was sobbing now, blinking as she stood over him. She almost looked like she had a halo, the way the light shone from behind her.

   She said nothing, just grabbed the front of Ewan’s shirt and pulled him up, righting the chair. It rocked a little and Ewan gasped, nervous that it may tip again. She had turned her back on him, just long enough to snatch something up from the table.

“Funny that they’d send someone so fresh for such an important mission.” She mused, holding the knife up for him to see, “I mean just look at you. Green. Young.” She spat each word out, all of the sweet charm from before was gone. “You don’t have a single scar. Hell, you hardly have to shave.” She drew the knife down his jaw, scraping his skin. “Tell me about your mission then, Charming.” She purred. “Tell me everything.”

“I-I-” Ewan stammered, eyes wide as he tried to track the knife, “I c-c-can’t, that’s all, that’s all that happened!”

“Maybe. Tell me every. Little. Detail.” Each word spurred a new direction with the knife, and Ewan hissed through his teeth as he felt a little bit of blood start to trickle down his neck. “Start with the basics. What did they tell you in mission briefing.”

Ewan’s breathing was heavy and rapid as he tried to force his mind to work, trying to filter what details he could feed her from the ones that needed to stay under wraps. “Uhh, they, they told me where the hand off was supposed to happen--”

“Which was?” The tip of the knife dug into the space between his jaw and his ear.

“The plaza!” He said, leaning away from the blade as best he could, “We knew it would be in the plaza, that was-”    “Where in the plaza?”

“Wh-wha?”

The knife flicked down quickly, opening a long cut down his neck, parallel to his tattoos.

“WHERE IN THE PLAZA?” She bellowed, “HOW DID YOU KNOW WHO TO WATCH?”

“I didn’t!” Ewan sobbed, feeling the blood soak into his shirt, “I didn’t know who to watch, I was just watching for someone-”

   “WHO?”

   “I didn’t know!” Ewan wailed as the knife dug into his neck again, right next to the first cut, “I didn’t know, I just knew the general area!”    “Don’t lie to me!” The knife flicked down again, opening a second cut.

   “I’m not lying!” Ewan promised, “I’m not! I’m not lying!”

   He winced as he heard the knife clatter to the ground and cried out as she slapped him again. The blows fell hard and fast, each one stinging and sending the chair rocking back a few inches. She grabbed the knife up from the floor and gathered a fistful of his hair again, wrenching him back again. The chair tipped as she pressed the knife to his throat. Ewan sobbed, writhing under the blade as it dug into his Adam's apple.

   “Last chance, Charming.” She hissed.

   “I swear--”

   The door crashed open and she dropped him, the chair tipping back forward as she stood up, looking to the newcomers. Ewan’s eyes were filled with tears, and he could barely make out her face as she twisted it into a snarl at them.

   “What n-” the question died as she crumpled to the ground. Ewan wasn’t sure what had dropped her, and frankly he didn’t care too much. His head whipped around as footsteps filled the room, his bangs falling back into his eyes.

   “Cas!” He felt a wave of relief crash over him as his older brother stepped over the body of his tormentor and crouch next to him.

   “The next time someone tells you to get to the car, go to the damn car, Ewan.” Castor growled as he started cutting away one of the ropes at Ewan’s wrists. As soon as the ropes had fallen away, Ewan wrapped his arms around Castor’s neck, nodding as much as the cuts on his neck would allow. “Whoa, hey there buddy…” Castor dropped his knife as Ewan pitched forward so that the younger boy wouldn’t hurt himself on it. “It’s ok, I’ve got you.”

   Ewan hiccupped a little as he tried to compose himself.

   “Cas?”

   “Yeah buddy?”

   “Will you give me a haircut when we get home?”

   “Sure, Ewan. Let’s get you home first, ok?”

[childrenoflight-darkness-nothing]

Brother, Brother!

It was in fact about time I wrote something for my latest obsession... So here we are with 1418 words featuring The Lost Boys and some modified Ed Sheeran lyrics... Enjoy!

Keep careful watch of my brothers’ souls, and should the sky be filled with fire and smoke… keep watching over…

Castor sucked in a breath as the air moved around him. Everything seemed to be still, or moving entirely too fast as he tried to get his bearings. His chest ached as he coughed on my smoke. He blinked.

Once. Twice.

The air around him dry and his face burned as his thoughts came together. “Addie!” he screamed, or tried to. His mouth too thick with smoke, with soot, to make much more of a sound than a hoarse whisper. “Addie!” Castor tried again, his thoughts frantic. Right here, he was right here!

If this is to end in fire, then we shall all burn together. Watch the flames climb higher into the night…

Adair had been right beside his older brother when the bomb went off, the two of them and Ewan on a Renegade mission. Castor reached a hand out in the direction his brother should have been. Grunting from the effort to move at all his bloodied hands traced over the rubble until he found a scrap of Adair’s jacket, and from there a hand.

“Addie,” Castor called again, his voice a little stronger as he forced his body to move. The edges of his vision blackened as he shoved a beam off of his chest. Rubble cascaded down around him as he took another breath, an attempt to keep himself alert. “Come on,” he grunted. “Come on, Addie. Wake up. You’re not allowed to die on me. Not you too.”

And if we should die tonight, then we should all die together. Watch the flames burn on and on, desolation comes across the sky…

Castor was still halfway pinned under the rubble, but he’d managed to free himself enough to reach his brother. Scraping soot and debris out of Adair’s whole he checked for whatever injuries he could reach. His mind of course jumping to the worst of conclusions as he took in Adair’s limp form. Blood trickled from a cut on the teens forehead, but from what he could reach… What he could see… there was nothing seriously wrong.

“Addie.”

The younger boy groaned as he came to. His eyes fluttered open, unseeing but he grew more aware of his surroundings as the seconds passed.

“Addie, come on that’s it,” Castor urged, the last of his strength leaving him as he fell back into the rubble. Flames ate at what was left of the building around them, sparks and embers falling down around them as the brothers breathed in the smoke. “Come on—you got to… got to get yourself… out of here. And find Ewan.”

Now I see fire, burning the trees. And I see fire, hollowing souls. And I see fire, blood in the breeze. And I hope that you’ll remember me…

“You’re coming with me, Cas,” Adair said around a series of coughs. His brown eyes held a note of defiant determination as he pushed himself up and faced Castor.

Cas forced his head to turn. Side to side. The movement, barely perceptible. “No, Addie. I’m pinned. We have no idea what condition I’m in under those beams, if we could even get them moved. Or if I’d just bleed out anyways. Go find Ewan and get yourselves out of here.”

His voice was strong. Stronger than it’d been even just a moment ago as he forced his words to come out steady. As he leveled Adair with an unyielding gaze that begged no argument. No question. Cas had known as soon as he’d woken up and been able to assess the situation that it wasn’t likely for him to get out. In those few seconds that he’d urged Adair awake--those few seconds that of themselves had felt like hours--Castor had even come to peace with it. As long as Adair got out… As long as Ewan…

They still had no idea where Ewan was.

Castor could only hope he hadn’t gotten caught in the same blast they had. That he’d been far enough away. And it’d just take Adair a quick search as he made his way out of the rubble. Out of the smoke and the flames.

Oh, should my brothers fall, then surely I’ll do the same. Confined in mountain halls, we got too close to the flame. Calling out… hold fast and we will, watch the flames burn on and on…

Castor had taken the worst of the blast. His body taking the quick second it had had to shield Adair as best he could in the space between the sound of the explosion and the flames and shrapnel reaching them. The smell of burnt flesh met his nose around the smoke, and as the adrenaline wore off he could feel his skin burning. His arm white and hot. His legs--or what he could feel of them--searing beneath the rubble.

“You’re not asking me to leave you,” Adair’s voice cut in and Castor’s eyes flicked to him trying to bring the younger boy into focus.

“You’re right, I’m not asking,” he said, his own words sounding like he was underwater. Barely there in his mind as his thoughts swirled in smoke and embers.

“No, I’m not. You’re not. You’re not having me do that. Cas. You’re not having me lose more family. You’re not.”

And if the night is burning, I will cover my eyes. For if the dark returns then my brothers will die. And as the sky’s falling down, it crashed into this lonely town… I hear my brothers screaming out…

“Addie! Cas!”

“Castor, come on.”

“Over here! We’re here!”

“I’ll lift, you pull him out.”

Scattered words filtered in and out, each own without a voice or a body as Castor tried to force his eyes to stay open. Stars danced as arms gripped his shoulders. One shove. Two. And the weight was lifted from the lower half of his body. But with his release came a string of curses from one of the twins, and a flood of searing pain. Needles seemed to prick every inch of his skin.

“C’mon Cas. Dùisg.”

“Fuirich còmhla rium.”

“They’re not going to be able to save his leg--”

“We have to get him back to base first before we worry with that.”

Now I see fire, burning the trees. And I see fire, hollowing souls. And I see fire, blood in the breeze.

He drifted in and out. Voices and gentle hands seemed to float around him in the moments he spent where everything wasn’t faded to black. In the moments where everything wasn’t dark and the only thing he could hear was a ringing in his ear.

Castor came to most when they lifted him, one arm swung around each boy's shoulders as the twins both bore his weight. His feet slid useless against the rocks as he tried to move them. Tried to take some of the burden off. But he tripped and slid leaving a trail of blood in his wake. And a series of groans as his limbs hung uselessly. Everything out of his control as he was pulled from the rubble.

I see fire, oh you know I saw a city burning. And I see fire, feel the heat upon my skin. And I see fire…

He didn’t register the coughing. Or the jarring of his ribs and his lungs when one of the brothers tripped. Their own feet barely making the path to safety. Each of them with injuries of their own. A ringing in their ears as they struggled beneath the weight of the fallen.

Castor couldn’t even muster the strength to tell them to leave him. As the building shifted around them the order did not leave his lips. Nothing did but the laboured breaths, or the occasional groan as he found a brief moment of awareness. It would have been a waste of breath, even if it had.

Keep careful watch of my brothers’ souls… And should the sky be filled with fire and gold…

Hands lifted him into the back of a vehicle. Reassurances were whispered as a weight tightened around his leg, and a hand held pressure on his stomach. And Castor felt the last of himself leave him. Eyes fluttering closed as an engine was started, and he was urged to stay awake. To keep his eyes open.

Castor wished he could, as he fell away from himself. From the world.

Keep watching over...

[childrenoflight-darkness-nothing]

For when the words return from war! Lost boys song prompt: the Black Parade! No hurry at all 💙💙💙💙

Okay so like, this goes with the lyrics absolutely 0%. But it’s where I went with it, so we’re leaving them in. 1456 words, and I’m not really sure about the ending, but like I can keep reworking it and hating it more or I can post it... so here we are...

When I was a young boy, my father took me into the city to see a marching band. He said, “Son, when you grow up, would you be the savior of the broken, the beaten, and the damned?”

Castor ground his teeth. Music wafted through the room as he pushed himself up between the bars. His weight was fully supported on his arms. Dragon had set them up earlier. Two parallel bars set up in an old storage room on base where Castor was supposed to be working with Dragon and Adair to learn to walk again. But the icy cold teenager had had other plans when he’d found himself there alone in the middle of the night. The base, mostly quiet, and his brothers asleep.

He was frustrated, to say the least. His progress, slow.

Castor shifted his weight from his hold on the bars to his leg. His good leg planted firmly on the floor. Cas held the position for a moment. One breath. Two. And then he tested the prosthetic, his grip remaining firm on the bars though the muscles in his back shook. Not from the strain, no. But it had been one thing he’d struggled with; trusting the contraption on his leg to support him.

“Because one day, I’ll leave you a phantom to lead you in the summer to join the black parade.”

Dragon had assured him he’d walk again. And that with the right training, and the right prosthetic he’d even be able to fight again. The bright eyed teenager—younger than even Adair and Ewan—working tirelessly to craft something that’d give him nearly his full range of motion back. From the prototypes Castor had seen already it looked like something out of a sci-fi novel, wires and metal and gears. And Dragon hadn’t even asked for anything in return, just got an excited glint in their eye at the prospect of having a new project when they’d found their way into Castor’s hospital room and offered their expertise.

Castor’s teeth ground together with more force as he pulled his weight back off of his legs. And his knuckles whitened as his grip tightened on the bars. He couldn’t do it. Couldn’t get himself to take a step. To try.

He just needed to make one step. One. And then another after that until he was walking again.

Such a simple thing. And yet he couldn’t.

Sometimes I get the feelin’ she’s watching over me, and other times I feel like I should go. And through it all, the rise and fall, we want you all to know. We’ll carry on.

“What are you waiting for exactly?” a voice called from behind him, and Castor’s gaze narrowed as he turned his head to look over his shoulder. Ewan. Leaned against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. Castor hasn’t even heard him come in. The noise drowned out by the music and the thoughts in his head. “If it’s more of an audience you might have to wait a few hours for the world to wake up.”

His brow was raised in a challenge as he shoved himself off the wall, and took a step closer. Almost to say, go on.

“What are you doing up?” Castor ground out, ignoring his frustrations. Or at least trying to.

“I think we both know I wasn’t actually asleep. And I heard you leave, you’re not exactly quiet nowadays.”

A muscle in Castor’s jaw ticked as he turned his gaze away. “What are you doing here then?”

“Followed you.” Castor would swear he could see Ewan shrugging his shoulders, an attempt at indifference.

“Why?”

And though you’re dead and gone, believe me. Your memory will carry on. We’ll carry on…

“Why haven’t you taken a step yet?” Ewan countered. “You’ve been standing there brooding for five minutes at least. I mean if you’re going to sneak off for a private training session, you might as well do something right?”

“It’s not that simple.”

“Doesn’t have to be that difficult either.” Ewan definitely had his arms crossed now, there was no question about it. Even if Castor couldn’t see him. Wouldn’t look at him. Ewan took three steps closer as he continued, “What are you afraid of? That you’ll fall? So get back up. You’ve done it before. You always get back up. This isn’t any different, Cas.”

From decimated dreams, your misery and hate will kill us all. So paint it black and take it back, let’s shout it loud and clear. Defiant till the end, we hear the call.

“What if I can’t… get back up?” The words fell out of Castor’s mouth before he could stop them. His voice was quiet and betrayed his fear.

Fear. Not that he couldn’t get back up if he fell. It wasn’t that simple. But fear that he couldn’t be who he was. That he had fallen, and wouldn’t be able to pull himself back up. That he couldn’t pull himself back up. Not this time. He hadn’t been able to do it so far. That fear stopping him from even trying. Every time he was close something pulled him back down. An excuse. A crutch.

“Your problem is that you’re doing this alone. That you think you have to. ‘I’m Cas and I have to be tough and put together and I can’t rely on anyone else for help because I’ve constantly got to be there for everyone else.’” Ewan’s voice was scarily similar to Castor’s as he impersonated him. Air quotes around the words as he strode into Castor’s view. “But you don’t. You’re not alone in this, you haven’t been for a long time. You fall, maybe you pick yourself back up. Maybe you get some help from your brothers. But you’ll get back up.”

“Are you done?” Castor leveled Ewan with a sigh, his gaze hard.

Ewan wasn’t wrong. Not entirely. And Castor knew it.

“I don’t know, are you going to take a step? Or do I get to impersonate you some more? I think I’m getting quite good at it, just got to scowl and brood some more and then I’ll have it down.” Ewan grinned, and nodded his head towards his brother. The challenge in his eyes, gone. Now, just a simple show of support.

We’ll carry on, and though you’re broken and defeated, you’re weary widow marches. On and on, we carry through the fears.

Castor glanced down at his chest, at the ink scrolled over it. Over his ribs. And he looked down at his foot bare against the mat, and the prosthetic beside. It was a simple one, nothing near the high-tech contraption Dragon was putting together in their spare time between Renegade duties and school. But it was sturdy.

One breath. Two. Three.

Cas shifted his weight. First to his leg. Getting a feel for the balance before he shifted to both. His grip on the bars loosened, though only slightly as he shifted his weight between each leg. Letting himself get comfortable with the feeling before he tried to take a step forward.

Do or die, you’ll never make me. Because the world will never take my heart. Go and try, you’ll never break me.

“That’s good, come on,” Ewan directed him to keep going. He came to stand in front of Cas, between the bars, when the older teen pitched forward. Cas had only barely managed to catch himself.

They continued on for what felt like hours to Castor, though it was really nowhere near that long. Cas took a step, and Ewan stayed right in front of him to offer support if… when he stumbled.

“Just one step, only ever one step in front of you. And then you take another.”

We’ll carry on, we’ll carry on.

Castor didn’t thank him when they were done. There wasn’t a need to. Both boys exchanged silent nods when Cas made it to the end of the bars and exchanged them for crutches. In almost silence they walked back to their shared apartment on base together, taking a quick detour to enjoy the night air before returning home.

“Stop that, would you?” Cas said when Ewan started lighting a cigarette once they were outside. He made an attempt to bat it out of the younger boy's mouth. “Bad for your lungs.”

“Bad as a mother-hen. And you’re really one to talk, Cas,” Ewan said, taking a step back out of Castor’s reach. He leaned against a pillar and raised an eyebrow, arms crossed over his chest.

“I quit.”

“Did you now? News to me.”

He said, “Will you defeat them? Your demons and all the non-believers? The plans that they have made?”

[mrs-mikko-rantanen]

Minty

Ewan wasn't allergic to peppermint essential oil. It just made his nose tickle and thus inspired a fair bit of sneezing. His mother had thought it was funny, and Adair had teased him for it. There were nuances to it, he had learned through the years. He didn't have a reaction when it was applied to his skin, and after a couple of minutes he generally seemed to get used to it. But if someone else in the room was wearing it and walked by him, he was going to sneeze. Especially if they kept moving and then returned later. He had to have time to adjust to the scent. 

He didn't always make that connection, however. Sometimes someone would walk by him seven or eight times, he would sneeze every time, and never notice the Christmas time smell following them. 

This was very difficult for him to accept when he first met Avanda. 

It had been a long day on the base, perhaps two weeks after her return, and he had been on high alert. Her crew was slowly coming to terms with the Renegade cause, and she had been doing what she could to help his brother get a hold of more advanced supplies for the base hospital. Ewan had been standing nearby running security and helping her with one of the computers. After he'd turned away to sneeze for possibly the seventeenth time, she spun around in her chair, arms crossed and glaring at him. 

"Go home, MacClyde. I'm on a Renegade controlled base, and I doubt anything bad is going to happen to me for ten minutes while I finish this up."

"But--"

"Besides, Adair's here and Castor can fill in for your 'watchdog' duties." When Ewan opened his mouth to complain again, she kept talking, hurrying to shut him down. "You're clearly getting sick. All that's going to do is slow you down. Go upstairs and get some rest, and I'll see what I can do for you when I get done here."

Begrudgingly, Ewan did as he was told. It had been too long since he'd slept. He would never admit it to anyone, but he could see the sense in what Cas, Addie, and Avanda had all told him about overworking himself. Sort of. He flopped down onto the couch and was asleep almost instantly. 

When he woke up, Adair was in the kitchen, quietly making dinner. 

"Where's Alistairion?" Ewan asked, glancing around the apartment. 

"Downstairs. Don't worry, Cas is keeping an eye on her, and he's gonna give her a ride home. She said she hopes you feel better." Ewan did not miss the small smirk growing on his twin's face.

"I'm not sick. I just couldn't stop sneezing." Ewan snapped. 

Adair let out a small bark of laughter. "Of course you couldn't! Ohhh it all makes sense now."

"What?"

Adair set down the wooden spoon he'd been using and shot his brother a look. "She was wearing peppermint oil."

"What? No I would have noticed-" Ewan cut himself off quickly, aware that his comment would only open up room for his brother to tease him about the crush that he was very much in denial of. 

"Of course. Yet here you are, an hour later, with no sniffles, no sneezes, and seeming quite alert after what I can only assume was a good nap."

Ewan's scowl deepened and he grabbed an apron. "What does it even do? Is it just a perfume? Or does it...do something?"

Adair shrugged, passing Ewan the spoon. "Kind of a lot, actually. Usually it's used for it's calming effect, but it's also used for mild pain treatments. I also read an article about it being linked to-" Adair stopped with a sigh, catching himself just before the ramble got too out of control and he strayed from the topic. "I'm willing to bet that she uses it to help regulate headaches."

"Headaches?" Ewan asked carefully. 

"Yeah. Mum used it for a lot of things, but headaches more than anything. Hamish says it works wonders for them."

Ewan shrugged a little and decided to pretend that he didn't care about the matter anymore. 

A few weeks later, Ewan and Avanda were on a mission together. It was a simple scouting mission, but it was like a stakeout scene in a buddy cop movie. They sat together in the car in relative silence for about an hour, watching the area intently. 

Ewan shot a glance at the redhead and frowned. "You alright? You've been a little off today."

Avanda grunted, not moving her head from where it was resting against the window. "Migraine."

"Oh. I'm sorry. Do you have any meds with you?"

"No."

"Ah." He shifted a little, digging in his pockets until he felt the small bottle. "Here. Addie says this helps some people?" He offered it to her and she reached over, taking it. 

"Yeah, actually it does. Thanks, Ewan."

"No prob-no-no problem." He stuttered then cleared his throat. That may have been the first time she'd used his first name without Adair around. Usually it was 'MacClyde,' unless his twin was around to cause any confusion. He clenched his jaw as the car filled with the minty fresh aroma, trying to fight back the sneeze. 

"Thanks." She handed it back to him and he nodded, not trusting himself not to sneeze if he opened his mouth. 

There was only so long that he could fight it however. When he did sneeze, he ended up hitting his head on the steering wheel. 

"Bless you." Ewan didn't miss her small laugh, which only made him blush harder. 

"Tha-thank- ACHOOO- thank you." 

[childrenoflight-darkness-nothing]

if it's Ewan 'I'm fine' MacClyde and Adair 'I'm sorry' MacClyde

what's Castor

[mrs-mikko-rantanen]

Inspired by this post I saw on pinterest

Avanda groaned as she flopped down on the couch in the MacClydes' apartment. It had been a long shift, and two more right before it. She'd fallen asleep on the floor in some break room, where Castor had found her. He'd woken her up and given her the key to the apartment.

"Go. Crash on the couch for a bit and I'll take you home later, ok?"

Avanda let out a sigh, shifting and curling up on her side. She closed her eyes and felt herself drifting back to the sleep she'd been enjoying on the floor. Just as she was falling back to sleep, the door to the apartment opened. She frowned a little and sat up, blinking as someone flicked on the lights.

"Aagghh....."

"Sorry, didn't see-Av?" Ewan sounded confused and slightly concerned as he stepped closer. "What are you doing here?"

"Was trying to sleep." Avanda pouted, pulling her knees up to her chest.

"Anyone else home?" Ewan asked, pulling off his uniform shirt and bulletproof vest, leaving him in the under armor shirt that he wore underneath.

Avanda shook her head. "Just the little guys. Addie's doing night rounds and Cas said he'd be up later." She shigted again, satisfied that it was just Ewan and ready to go back to sleep. "How was work?" She asked around a yawn. Ewan answered as he took off his shoes and work belt, but Avanda wasnt listening to him at all. She jumped a little as she felt him drape a blanket over her.

"Its alright, Lass. Just thought you may get cold out here."

"You should stay." She muttered as her fingers twined around his. "Just for a bit, you should stay."

Ewan snorted a little. "You're delirious."

"'M not." Avanda pouted, "You're my boyfriend an' I wanna cuddle with you."

"No one else knows that though." Ewan reminded her as he ran his fingers through her hair.

"No one else is here." She pointed out.

Ewan was quiet for a long time, his thumb tracing circles on the back of her hand. "Alright then, love. Just for a little bit though."

Avanda smiled as she lifted the blanket, glad that he'd relented. He let out a soft groan as he laid down, his body half pinning Avanda's as he got comfortable. Avanda smiled and draped the blanket over both of them as Ewan mumbled contendly as her fingers found their way to his hair.

Avanda was mostly asleep now. She wasn't really aware of anything more than a few chaste kisses and the deep hum of Ewan's voice as he made soft promises in Gaelic. Those too came to an end, replaced by soft snores.

And then someone clearing their throat louldly.

"Cas!" Avanda shoved Ewan forcefully away from her, but the reflex was unnescisary. The Scotsman had vaulted away from her with astonishing speed once his brother had made his presence known.

"It was-it -it was-it was cold!"

"We had to share the blanket!"

Both Ewan and Avanda had pulled away from each other now, as far as the couch would allow, and were a matching shade of red. Though neither of them would know that, since they were pointedly looking in opposite directions.

[mrs-mikko-rantanen]

Middle Name

535 words. Almost all of it dialogue. All of it incredibly, tooth-rottingly self indulgent fluff. Ewan and Avanda can have a little soft, as a treat. Pre-relationship reveal, which isn’t really important until the end.

“Oh come on!”

“No.” “Come onnnnn….” Avanda flopped her head to one side and pushed Ewan playfully. “You know mine, now tell me your’s!”

“That’s different.” Ewan scowled and played with the edge of the blanket.

“How’s it different?”

“You have a nice middle name. Mine’s...mine’s embarrassing.” 

“Are you kidding? Mine isn’t even a real name, Ewan!”

Ewan’s head came up and he laughed. “It is too a name! It’s a very pretty name!”

Avanda giggled. “No it isn’t.”

“Avanda Solaris Alistairion is a very pretty name, Lass.”

Avanda hummed a little and leaned forward to kiss Ewan’s cheek. “Thank you. But what’s your’s?”

“I’m not going to tell you.”

“Then I’ll make things up.” “Good. It will probably be better than the one I have.”

“Hm. We’ll see.” She pouted a little and squinted at him, thinking. “Tedmund?”

Ewan snorted. “Better.”

“Heifenheimer.”

“Yes.”

“Wheels McKinzie?”

“You did it, darling. You guessed my middle name exactly. Wheels McKinzie. Ewan Wheels McKinzie MacClyde.” He leaned forward and kissed her nose, drawing a giggle from her.

“Seriously. What is it?”

“Wheels McKinzie.”

Avanda stuck her lip out. “Ewaaaann…” 

Ewan sighed again, muttering under his breath. “No.”

Avanda sighed dramatically as well, mimicking him as she rolled onto her back, her arms behind her head as she stared at the ceiling.  Ewan mumbled something in Gaelic that she didn’t quite catch before he shifted as well. He wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in the crook of her neck, snuggling up on top of her and pinning her down on the bed. Avanda smiled a little and ran her fingers through his hair as she closed her eyes. 

“’S warm.” She mumbled.

“Mmhmm.” Ewan agreed.

“’M falling asleep.”

“Good. You need the rest.”

“Nooo...sleep bad…”

“I’ll tell you my middle name if you promise to get some sleep.” Ewan bartered. 

Avanda chuckled. “Promise?”

Ewan nodded, his lips pressed against her neck. “Promise.”

She sighed and turned her head, pressing a kiss of her own to the string of tattoos behind his ear. “Alright, Love. I promise.”

Ewan didn’t say anything for a long time. Avanda was almost all the way asleep when she felt him shift. He kissed right in front of her ear then whispered a name in her ear. Her eyes opened and she giggled a little.”

“Fergus? That’s what you were so embarrassed about?”

She could feel him blushing as he buried his face into the crook of her neck again, arms lacing tighter around her.

“Fergus? Ewan Fergus MacClyde...Oh I like that!” 

“Tha e gòrach!” He whined.

“It is not ridiculous! It’s adorable!”

“Go to sleep.” 

“Yes Fergus.”

“Go the fuck to sleep, please.”

Avanda giggled a little and kissed him again before snuggling down and making herself comfortable. Her eyes closed again, but the crooked grin stayed firmly on her face as she ran her fingers through his hair again. She was falling asleep when she felt him jolt quickly, scrambling up from the bed as he swore under his breath.

“Wha’s it?” Avanda sat up, blinking the last traces of sleep from her eyes.

“Castor’s home. Shit. Shit, he wasn’t supposed to be home yet...fuck.”

[mrs-mikko-rantanen]

I had dreams all night last night that Mary wasnt actually dead, she'd just been abducted after Peadar was born. 16 years later local police found her and reached out to Ewan's department with a "hey we found this woman who's been chained in a basement for 16 years, claims her sons Iive in your area?" So the department sends Maureen with an officer out there to identify her (bc ewan was too close to tje case emotionally to go and all that and then all of the MacClydes are sitting there staring at his phone waiting for the call and then it rings and Ewan answers with so much stuttering that Adair has to take the phone away from him.

"Hello?........ok.......ok, yeah I'll tell them. Thank you, Maureen."

And tears are rolling down his face and he looks at his brothers.

"Mum's coming home."

Then there was a lot of really cute scenes with Adair holding Aislin and whispering "Mum's going to love you. Mum's going to love you so much..."

Ewan wrapped up in Avanda's arms and sobbing "Mum's going to be here...Mum'll be here tomorrow..."

Carrick crying with all of his brothers but clinging to Castor because "You're our brother too, Cas. She's your mom now too i promise."

Peadar sitting on the roof alone and in shock. Totally silent. Rena finds him there and gently asks how he's feeling. Hands shaking he signs to her: I never thought I'd get to meet her. She was dead. She died for me....and now......now I get to meet my mother.

And of course the sweet reunion where she comes into the room amd her sons all hug her very tightly amd they all cry and she held all of their faces "Just look at you....you're so much like your father, Adair, you have his eyes....Ewan look at-i'm so proud of you. Carrick....you're so tall....- Peadar. Dear sweet Peadar just look at you."

[mrs-mikko-rantanen]

🖋 carrick

Oh my god this poor sweet boy

He's so anxious all of the time. Not a surprise, really. Anxiety runs deep in the MacClyde blood. But so does hiding it behind a very grumpy exterior.

Has panic attacks at least once a week.

Tends to prefer to be alone afterwards if he can. He gets a little embarrassed about them.

But Avanda and Castor he likes to be around. They make him feel safe.

(Honestly he'd probably be ok around Jace too. He may not spend a ton of time around em, but he does trust em a lot.)

Quiet, but again in a grumpy way. Observes everyone on the base.

Has given everyone a nickname durring his time running the radios. Rarely explains said nicknames after using them. For people outside if his family, he will only ever use that nickname afterwards.

Wants to work for NASA actually. He wants to work at mission control and talk to the astronauts. Wants to help map courses, all that fun stuff.

He tries hard in school, but his grades aren't always spot on. He has a hard time focusing, and he's terrified he wont be able to get into the right school for his dream job.

(That's why he never tells anyone what his dream job is. He's afraid they'll pount out he's too stupid for it.)

When Av paints everyone's nails, he always paints his a shade if green.

[mrs-mikko-rantanen]

Oh ow ow ow ow ow ow this is so sad I'm just--

The image of the five of them standing in the rain crying over the MacClyde graves was sad enough. But the image if him going back alone and promising these two parents he'd never even known that he'd care for their sons? Excuse me im gonna go cry some more.

Brot3 Headcanons

@childrenoflight-darkness-nothing please add on!!

Castor actually joined the Renegades right around the time Ewan and Adair's parents died.

(At this point, they were living in one of the small spare appartments on the base. They had a four year old and a newborn they were trying to just freaking survive)

They were always on base. Everywhere you looked, there was a little MacClyde.

Ewan and Castor probably got off to a bit of a rocky start, if I had to guess. Probably some sort of little fight, a few fists were thrown, and then they begrudgingly parted as allies.

Eventually of course, that grew into a friendship.

People often joke that Ewan and Castor look more like twins than Ewan and Adair do.

(This hurt Adair a little at first, but he never really told anyone, and he eventually got past it.)

On the rare occasion that the three of them are the only three on a mission, its going to get done, and it's going to get done well.

They're a dynamic trio for sure, and they watch each other's backs.

But once the three of them are just chilling?

Gone are the highly trained soldiers and stern medic; replaced by giggling little boys who just want to see how many random objects they can stack to make a tower.

Also I think that Ewan and Adair are just...really good At making blanket forts. But throw Castor into the mix and it goes from blanket fort to blanket castle.

Only thing missing is a moat.

Give them time though. They'll get one soon.

[childrenoflight-darkness-nothing]

The most epic of crossovers...

Ferret would 100% be fae, but I think he’d live outside of Mirrior. On the streets of Dreyn.

Taking jobs as he could find them

Smuggling work for the rebels. Jobs for the kingdom. Fairly neutral in his alliance.

He probably knows Elise in passing, from his slight connections to the rebellion and the kingdom.

Avanda, like Jace a shifter. The form that comes most naturally to take on being a magpie.

Though I think her actually story would be closer to Deirdre’s. Taken as a child and brainwashed into service of Dreyn and it’s King.

Keridwen tats would be replaced with ones similar to what Deirdre has. Up the neck and across the shoulders. Spiraling black ink in an intricate design designating her position.

A healer still. But I’m not sure if she’d have healing magic or not.

Jalev would be a scholarly sort. Probably works closely alongside Queen Aliana and Dragon.

I could see them being good friends with the diplomat actually.

The MacClyde’s? Farm boys through and through. They live near the Forgotten Meadows, on the very edge of Dreyn.

Adair would travel into the Meadows on occasion to take part in some not so legal fights to help raise money to care for his brothers.

Ewan’s part of the town guard.

It’s in the Meadows that Adair finds Aislin first. A passing stranger in need of some kindness. He gives her his cloak, and once she’s gone he noticed his hands are completely healed from his last fight.

Ewan finds Avanda again when a chain of events gets the brothers involved in the revolution. Where he meets two red headed priestesses, one being the long lost girl from his childhood.... who doesn’t remember him.

Probably bold of me to assume they weren’t involved before. But they weren’t.

Marin. Assassin still. Half fae.

Probably hired by Castor’s uncle to kill Faye.

I’d like to think that once he found out he was hunting a 17 year old, and her 11 year old charge he’d drop the job.

Nyar is fae. And I had an idea so we’re going with it.

Ciáran’s cousin, fathers side so not related to Elise.

Frosty stoic guard, fits right into the winter court.

Probably part of the group of soldiers that was sent to kill Everyn. And probably assigned as Ciáran’s personal guard afterwards. To keep the prince out of trouble, and on the “right” path to taking over the throne.

This is how he gets involved in the revolution/saving the world cuz when Ciáran leaves. Ny goes with him to try and bring him back. And character evolution takes place, and he meets this really sarcastic rebel leader that refuses to put up with any of his shit and is also kinda annoying and—

Hmmm, Carina would be nobility. Many a days spent at court with Castor and co.

[mrs-mikko-rantanen]

Crash

Ok, this got really out of hand (2767 words....). I'll try to get the read more added to it here soon. This is a re-write, couldn't find the original post, sorry. But! Caretaker!Nyar, whumpee!Avanda so fun stuff. Tw: car crash mention, hospitals

Nyar shook, feeling nauseous as the nurse led him out to the waiting room.  His left hand wrapped in a cast, he'd been given pain medications, and his mind was foggy. Weather that was from the medication, or the concussion, or the shock, he really wasn't sure. 

"My friend...the one that came in with me, where-where is she?" He asked as he sank into the chair. 

"She'll still be in surgery. You can wait here if you'd like. I'm sure…." 

Nyar didn't hear the rest of what she said. He replayed the crash in his head, trying to figure out what had gone wrong. What he had done, what he should have done better, what he was supposed to have done to save her. 

And now Avanda was in surgery. And he had no clue what was going on. His hand shook as he dug his phone out of his pocket. He knew Avanda had been the one who was supposed to pick up Ewan's little brothers, he had to get ahold of someone to take care of that and sort it out. 

He typed Ewan's name into his phone's contacts. Nothing. 

He tried Adair. Still nothing. 

Castor. Nothing. 

MacClyde. 

Adonis. 

No contacts pulled up for any of them, and he frowned. So he called the only person who's name he could think of. The one person he wanted to talk to the most. 

"Hey, I was starting to worry." Jace's voice was full of concern, thinly veiled by the relife that was seeping through the phone's speaker. 

"Hey um. I'm...not gonna make rehearsal today."

"Yeah, no I got that. What's up?" Jace Still sounded worried. 

"I um. We uh. We were. Um."

"Ny? Are you alright?"

Nyar's voice shook as he spoke again. "We um. We were in a car accident."

"Oh my God, Nyar are you ok?" 

"Uh, yeah I think so? I mean I just...I broke my wrist and a few ribs and have a bit of a concussion. But um. Av…" He choked on a sob. "Av was-she took most of it, and they took her into surgery and- I don't know who her doctor is, I don't think MacClyde is working today, I don't know if she's ok…"

"Nyar, babe, it's ok. It's going to be ok. Just take a deep breath for me alright?"

Nyar nodded and took a shaky breath in. 

"Ok. What can I do for you? Do you want me to come to the hospital? Do you need me to call the crew?"

"Um. I-I think you should call Adonis. Av was supposed to pick the kids up. I-I don't have his number. Or either of the MacClyde's."

"Ok. Ok, yeah. I'll call Cas and we'll get the boys and then we'll come to the hospital, ok?"

"Ok."

"Ok. Hang in there, Big Guy. We'll be there as soon as we can be."

"Thank you."

"I love you, babe." 

"I love you too. Drive safe."

He sighed as he hung up the phone. He was terrified. He had no idea what to do. He screwed his eyes shut, trying not to think about the sound of the screeching tires.  

    “Mr. Frostbane?” He leapt to his feet when the doctor called his name. 

    “Yeah, how is she?”

    The doctor nodded at him a little. “She’s doing better. She's a little worse for wear, but that chest wound was really the worst of it. That being said, good job leaving the shrapnel in, it would have bled more if you’d taken it out.”

    Nyar picked at his cast. “Yeah...uh, well that-that was really Avanda’s doing. She’s the medic.”

    “Well, regardless, she has you to thank. The bleeding has stopped now, we got her all stitched up. She’s got a pretty bad concussion, two broken ribs and a broken wrist, among a few other things that we can go into more detail with later. It will be at least a few days before we can let her go home, maybe a week. Have you called her family?”

    Nyar shifted, "I'll um...I'll try to get ahold of them, they don't live in town, they'll have to get a flight. And her boyfriend…” Nyar trailed off. Ewan was on a mission with Thane. They were both pretty deep undercover for now, and he had no idea how, or if the base would be able to contact them. “He’ll be here as soon as he can.”

    The doctor nodded. “Good. In the meantime, do you want to go see her? She’s going to be very sleepy, and pretty out of it, but you’re welcome to go see her.”

    Nyar nodded, “Yeah, um, yes please.”

    He followed a nurse down the hall to the room Avanda was in. There was another nurse in the room, hooking her up to machines and checking the IVs. Avanda was asleep, as far as he could tell. The nurse that had led him in showed him the chair, but he didn’t sit. He couldn’t. She looked so small, and so broken. 

He was hit by a wave of guilt. He was her captain. He was supposed to protect her, keep her safe, make sure that this didn’t happen.

“Don’t blame yourself, Sugar.” The nurse said, looking up from her work at Avanda’s wrist. “I’ve seen that look a lot, and I can promise you that this wasn’t your fault.”

Nyar opened his mouth, but no words came out. He closed it and nodded instead. He reached out slowly, gently pushing a strand of hair out of Avanda’s face. 

“She’s going to be ok, right?” He asked finally.

The nurse looked up, “Sugar, I’m honestly more worried about you. She’s gonna be just fine. You need to have a seat.” When Nyar shook his head, she gave him a stern look over the rim of her glasses that brooked no argument. He pulled the chair up to the edge of the bed and had a seat. She nodded and looked back to her work before finally finishing up, patting Nyar on the shoulder and leaving, with a promise to be back to check on them in a few minutes.

Nyar propped his elbows on his knees, and his chin in his hands. He was torn, he knew that Avanda needed to rest, that she had been through a lot, and that waking her up would do no good. On the other hand, he really wanted her to wake up and tell him what to do. 

He finally leaned back in his chair, groaning and running his hands through his hair. “God, Av, there’s a reason this is your job and not mine.”

He jumped when Avanda coughed. “Oww.” She groaned.

Nyar shot upright again and grabbed her hand, giving it a squeeze. “Av? Hey, how are you feeling?”

“Cold.” She grunted. Her hand reached up to the breathing tube and her fingers started to tug at her nose.

“Hey, you gotta leave that there.” Nyar reached up and gently moved her hand away.

“Hate cannulas.” She grumbled. 

“I know, but it’s helping.”

“Bullshit.” 

Nyar laughed a little. “Other than cold, how are you feeling?”

“Hungry.” 

“The nurse said it’s gonna be a while until you can eat, they need to wait for you to wake up some more.”

“So? I’m a doctor, I outrank her.”

“You can’t pull rank here, Av.”

“Sure I can. I’m a doctor.”

Nyar shook his head and smiled. “Did the doctors or anybody tell you what’s...uh, what … what happened?”

She squinted and shifted, her hand gently probing her abdomen and muttering a little. “Broken ri-two broken ribs, at least, hell of a headache, so I’m guessing at least a bit of a concussion. Plus I heard a decent bit of talk about aortas, so I’m thinking at least a knick from that stupid hunk of glass?”

Nyar nodded, “Yeah, that sounds about right.” 

“Hey,” She threw a lopsided grin at him and drew out the last letter, “All drugged up and still whippin’ out diagnoses like a pro.”

Nyar nodded and squeezed her hand again. “That’s my girl.”

She hummed a little and her eyes closed again. Nyar figured she was going to drift off to sleep so he leaned back in the chair, ready to drift off himself. His eyes were just sliding shut when Avanda jolted and gasped, a strangled cry escaping her lips.

“What? What’s the matter?”

“Ewan, where’s Ewan? Is he ok, he was on that mission! If he heard about this he’s gonna worry, and then he’ll do something stupid, he wont be focusing, have you heard from him?” Her eyes were wild and darting around the room, and she was straining to get out of the bed.

“Whoa, hey. Easy there, Doc. Ewan is fine. He’s with Thane, they’ll watch each other’s backs.” Nyar gently pushed her back to the pillow. “They’re the best soldiers we have, they’ll be alright.”

“But,...you haven’t heard from them?” Avanda’s lip quivered a little and her eyes were pleading.

Nyar hated himself, but he decided that maybe lying would be best here. “Yeah. I’ve heard from them. Ferret went to get them, they’re both ok.” He reached up and placed a hand on the side of her face, praying that she was on enough drugs that she wouldn’t be able to keep track of time.

Avanda sighed, and her body relaxed, “Ok. Thank you, Nyar.”

Nyar smiled. “Don’t worry about it. I’m here for you.”

Avanda looked around the room, her eyes landing on the beeping monitors next to her. “What’s that one say?” She pointed to one of the screens, squinting, “In the lower left corner, what’s it say?”

“Um, I’m not real sure.” Nyar squinted, “It’s some numbers--”

“What are they?” She tried to sit back up.

“Hey, Avanda, you aren’t the doctor here, remember? You’re the patient. You need to relax, ok?” Nyar pushed her back again.

“Where’s Ewan?”

Nyar checked his phone, and his stomach dropped. Still no word from Jace. 

“He’s on his way.”

    “Did he say anything about the boys?”

Finally, a question he could answer. “Castor is going to pick them up from school, then bring them right here.”

“Ok.” Avanda fidgeted her fingers, toying with one of the IVs.

Nyar took her hand again and pulled it away from the IV. “You need to rest.”

“I know.”

“I’m serious.” 

Avanda pulled her eyes away from the screens for a minute, a confused look on her face.

“You need to let it go. You aren’t the doctor. There are nurses and doctors here who are working hard to make sure you recover. You aren’t responsible for Peadar and Carrick right now. Castor has been taking care of them their whole lives, he can do it again today. You weren’t assigned to that mission, Ewan and Thane are ok.” Avanda blinked and Nyar saw a few tears welling up, so he moved his chair a little closer to the bed. “And you aren’t alone, right? I’m here. You don’t need to worry about anything, because I’m right here, and I won’t let anything happen to you, ok?”

Avanda sniffed.

“You’re safe.”

Avanda didn’t say anything. She just looked away from him and back at the screens and monitors.

“I promise.”

“Thank you.” Her accent was thicker than he had heard it in a long time.

“You can rest now.”

“Thank you.”

“It’s ok. That’s my job.”

“Thank you.” Her eyes were shut now, and the grip in her hand was starting to relax. “Thank you.” Her breathing was slowing down, and becoming more even. “Thank you, Ny…”

Nyar squeezed her hand. “It’s gonna be ok.”

He wasn’t sure if he was saying it more for her benefit, or his. He stayed in the room for a while longer, dosing a little next to her bed while she slipped back under. His phone buzzed and he jumped. 

          We're here. Out in the waiting room. Cas just got us checked in. 

Nyar squeezed Avanda's hand a little. "It's ok, Av. The troops are rallying." He teased. 

He made his way down the hall again to the waiting room. Jace was standing behind Carrick, eir hands on his shoulders and his backpack slung over one shoulder. The thirteen year old's eyes were red and he was staring at the floor. The scowl plastered on his face told Nyar that he was still trying not to cry. Peadar was wrapped around Castor's leg, sniffling and hiccuping as he wiped his eyes. 

"Hey." Nyar's voice was raw still as he stepped closer to them. 

"How is she?" Castor demanded. 

"The doctor said she'll be ok. I can't get a call to her parents though, I have no idea where else to try calling."

Castor nodded. "Ok. That's fine, I can call them. She's ok though?"

Nyar chewed his lip a little, shooting a glance at Peadar. "She's….she's ok. She's sleeping now. Or, well, she was When I left the room, anyw-"

"You left her alone?" Castor practically bellowed. 

Nyar frowned, feeling his cheeks flush as he opened his mouth to snap back. 

              "Hey! He was in the crash too, Cas." Jace reminded Castor. "Besides, we did text him and tell him to come out here to meet us."

            Castor's shoulders dropped a little and he let out a pent up breath. "Yeah, yeah you're right. Sorry, Frostbane. I'll go sit with her a while. What room is she in?"

          "297." Nyar said. He watched as Castor patted Peadar's shoulder and began to lead the young boy to the door. "Castor, wait."

Castor scowled at him angrily for a moment. "I just...I'm not sure she'd want the kids to see her like this." He leaned in a little as he spoke, keeping his voice as low as he could. "She's in pretty rough shape, I just...I think maybe it would be better if you went and saw her first, then you can decide for yourself after."

Castor glanced down at Peadar quickly, then nodded. "Yeah ok. Carrick, here. Go see if you guys can find something to play with, ok?"

The thirteen year old scowled and took Peadar's hand, pulling him away from Castor. 

Castor nodded a little,then shot a look to Nyar. "Thank you. I'll try not to leave you with them for long."

Jace sat down next to Nyar, watching Carrick and Peadar pick through the small toy box, halfheartedly looking for something to keep them busy. Ey frowned, looking at Nyar. 

"Are you ok?"

"...No." Nyar answered. "I should have paid better attention, I should have seen the car, I should-"

"Ny. She's gonna be ok." Jace promised. "The doctor said so, right?"

"I guess." His voice was raw. 

He didn't say much else after that. Carrick and Peadar both came up at some point, asking some little question or other, which Jace thankfully took care of for him. Castor finally came back, waving the boys back with him. As soon as the door closed, Jace reached over and took Nyar's hand. 

"Hey." Ey said softly, squeezing his hand. "It's ok."

Nyar opened his mouth, but no sound came out. Jace wrapped eir arm around his shoulders, tracing a thumb over his cheek from the side. He sniffed a little and wiped his eyes. 

"What if it isn't?'' He asked quietly. 

Jace let out a soft sound and leaned eir head against him. "It will be. She's in good hands. And you were there for her too. You got her here, you did a good job keeping her alive."

"I just did what she told me to do."

"You stayed calm. You followed instructions and you did what needed to get done. That's hard to do, especially in the situation you were in."

Nyar said nothing. Jace sighed and leaned against him. Ey pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, then leaned away, aware that the rest of the crew would be arriving at any moment. Ey kept holding Nyar's hand, tracing a thumb over his knuckles. 

Nyar squeezed Jace's hand as he leaned back as well, resting his head on the wall behind him. 

"I love you."

"I love you too." Jace squeezed his hand as well. "And I'm really glad you're ok. I can't tell you how scared I was when you said what happened."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be." Ey pressed a kiss against his fingers. "I'm just so glad you're safe."

"Me too."

He just hoped they'd be able to say the same about Avanda. 

[mrs-mikko-rantanen]

Sniffles MacClyde

After threatening for so long to write a Ewan sick fic, here's a little something. Not as extreme as i'd like, but someday, maybe.......fevers and delirium......934 words, bit of Lost Boys fun!

    Ewan sniffed, wiping his nose a little with his sleeve. He grunted quietly, his vision fogging some. He glanced up, hoping none of his brothers had caught the sound.

    “Ewan.” Adair said dryly from where he sat, reading on the couch, “If you aren't going to admit that you’re sick, would you at least blow your nose?”

    Ewan scowled. “‘’M not sick.”

    Adair rolled his eyes. “Fine. But you are congested. So blow your damn nose. You’re driving me crazy.”

    Ewan relented, grabbing a tissue and blowing his nose. Adair nodded a little. The room fell silent again. Ewan could feel the sneeze coming, and he ground his jaw, trying to fight--

    “Ahhh-Ahhh CHOO!” The sneeze had enough force behind it that it caused Adair to jump, and sparked a glare from Castor.

    “You’re sick.” Castor snapped. “You’re sick, and you have been for three days now.”

    “Am not!” Ewan growled. “I don’t get sick. It’s- it’s allergies!” 

    “Ewan, it’s December.” Adair said, rolling his eyes and closing his book. “There’s nothing blooming, you must have the flu, or even just a cold.”

    “It’s all the pine.” Ewan argued, “All those wreathes someone put up around the base.”

    “Right.” Castor said as he stood up, “And it has nothing to do with the fact that you lent your coat to Alistairion on that mission when it started snowing?”

    Ewan felt his cheeks turn red. “What was I supposed to do? Let her freeze?”

“Did she even ask to borrow your coat?” Adair asked, teasing his twin.

    “Of course not.” Ewan said. “She wouldn’t, pride and all that….. Besides, its not like she- ya know….likes….....”

    Castor groaned. “Look, we can either argue over whether or not you’re sick, or whether or not she likes you. And I really don’t have the patience for the second option. Addie, go get the thermometer.”

    “Yessir.” Adair said, jumping up from his seat. 

    “I’m not si-” Ewan was cut off by a wave of coughing, sparking a raised eyebrow from Castor. “Just- just….smoker’s cough.”

    “I can’t believe you thought that was somehow going to be better for you than admitting you were sick.” Castor said.

    Adair returned then with the thermometer, and shoved it in Ewan’s mouth when he opened it to protest. “Really, Ewan. Oldest trick in the book.”

    Ewan glared at his brother, arms crossed as he waited for the beep. When it came, Adair took the thermometer from Ewan’s mouth, showed it to Castor, who nodded and crossed his own arms. 

    “I’ll make the soup.” Castor said.

    “I’ll start some tea.” Adair added, following his older brother to the kitchen.

    “I’m not--”

    “I’ll get some blankets!” Carrick added from his perch at the kitchen table. 

    “I’m not sick!” Ewan shouted, but none of his brothers were listening. Even little Peadar walked over to Ewan’s chair, offering him his small stuffed lion. Ewan sighed and took it, ruffling his youngest brother’s hair.

    Castor and Adair had just set Ewan up with his tea and soup when a knock came at the door. 

    “I’ll get it-” 

    Castor ignored Ewan, walking across the room to the door and pulling it open to reveal Avanda, who was holding a plastic bag in one hand, and Ewan’s coat draped over her arm. 

    “Alistairion,” Castor smiled a little at her, “What brings you by?”

    Adair faked a cough to cover his laughter as Ewan struggled in an attempt to get out of his chair. Peadar sitting on his lap held him in place though. 

    “Oh, I just stopped by to drop this off,” Avanda said, handing Castor the coat. “Ewan let me borrow it the other day; thought I’d bring it by. And this…” She held up the bag, “Cough drops, tea, and cough syrup. I noticed he was a little stuffed up in that meeting earlier, I thought maybe--”

    “Thank you.” Castor said with a smile. “He’s got a bit of a cold.”

    “I’m not sick!!” Ewan yelled. 

    Avanda smiled, leaning around Castor and waved at Ewan, “Hey, Ewan,” She called, “Hope you feel better soon”

    “I--Than- thank you, Lass.” Ewan said, his face turning bright red.

    The door shut, leaving Castor with a huge grin on his face, Adair crossing his arms with an equally large smile on his own face.

    “Your face is red!” Peadar said, poking Ewan’s cheek. 

    “Stop it.” Ewan pushed his hand away, “I’m sick, it’s the fever.”

Castor laughed, setting the bag on the kitchen table. “Awww, Little Ewan has a crush!”

“I do not.”

“Do too.” Adair said with a giggle, “I think you loooove her!!”

“I d-d-don- I do not!” Ewan scowled as his stutter snuck up on him, “I do not. I just- I just thought it was sw-sweet that she was concerned, that’s all.”

    Castor had been in the process of putting the small bag of groceries away, when he burst out laughing suddenly.

    “What?” Ewan snapped.

    Castor held up a small card, with a picture of a teddy bear on it.  The bear had a sad expression, was surrounded by crumpled tissues, and had a thermometer stuck in his mouth. Ewan felt his face flush red again as Adair snatched the card out of Castor’s hands. 

    “A get well soon card?” Adair grinned. “Awwwww, Little Alistairion may have a crush too!”

    “She does not!” Ewan’s voice betrayed him yet again, this time cracking and setting all four of his brothers laughing even harder.

    “Ewan and Avanda, sittin' in a tree!” Carrick sang.

    “K-I-S-S-I-N-G!” Peadar sang as well.

    “Stop it.” Ewan hissed, “Stop out right now, all of you."

[childrenoflight-darkness-nothing]

Valeria and Aiden. Died for revolution this we know. But before this. Tried to keep an eye out for the MacClyde brothers as well, just like they did for Castor. Of course we all know Ewan’s pride gets in the way of a lot of people trying to look out for them. But. Them making an effort at least, to be there for the boys.

[childrenoflight-darkness-nothing]

I tried to update the post and tumblr crashed every time. *caelum and Clarissa voice* this is homophobic.

Get your shit together please tumblr!!!!! Anyways, it’s not as long of an update as the last two 4.5kish word updates but like it’s 2.5k and that’s pretty good in its own right??? Fluff?? They can!! A bit!! As a treat!!

[[MORE]]

-

“It’s really not that bad,” she said, trying to make light of the situation when Adair sat down to examine her leg. Trying to crack a joke. Do anything to get that worried frown off of his face. She couldn’t see it through the mask, but Aislin knew it was there. His brow knitted together in concentration as he worked.

He was gentle as he cleaned the wound, muttering apologies whenever she winced. But aside from that he was silent. He hadn’t said anything to her since he’d found her in the hallway; not really.

And that was worse than anything else he could’ve done. Even yelling would’ve been better. At least that would be something. Aislin knew it had been reckless to run back inside that building. Reckless and fairly stupid. But she couldn’t leave anyone behind. She wouldn’t. And she hadn’t even given it a second thought and she’d ran back in after Ferret. If Adair was upset with her… he had every right to be. She’d defied orders, endangering herself and the mission in the process.

She just wished he would say something. Anything.

Aislin was silent as he tended to her wounds, first the gash on her leg and then he bandaged up her arm. She stayed silent as he filled a bowl with water and started to clean the blood off of her. A pointless task. Between Clarissa, Ferret, and her own wounds it would take a change of clothes and a warm shower before she’d be able to even remember the concept of clean again. But she let him do it; scrubbing at her hands first. His fingers traced lightly over the place a ring should’ve been before he moved on to her right hand.

She didn’t stop him until he’d returned the cloth to the water bowl, rinsing it. Her fingers traced over his cheek before she’d pulled his mask away, wanting to see his face.

“Abair rud éigin,” Aislin practically begged, tears beginning to form in her eyes. If he was mad she could handle it, she more than deserved it, but what she couldn’t take was another minute of his deafening silence. “Say something, please.”

Adair glanced at her with a shaky breath, his arms tangling around her waist in the next second as he pulled her close. “You can’t just—you have to be more careful, my love.”

“I was careful,” she promised. “I made it back, didn’t I?”

“Yes but,” Adair pulled away from her, his voice breaking as he took her face in his hands. His touch gentle. Eyes pleading. “You can’t just run back into buildings that are falling apart like that. You can’t. Ferret knew the risk when he volunteered, so did everyone in that team. They all—we all know what we’re getting into. You can’t just—“

Aislin rested her palm against the back of his hand, her head leaning into his touch. Her tone was soft, even, as she asked if he would’ve done any differently. If he would’ve left Ferret for dead. She already knew his answer of course. But she wanted to hear him say it. Wanted him to hear himself say it.

“No, of course not. But that’s different.”

“How?”

——

She’d changed into a pair of scrubs, insistent on helping out at the hospital after getting herself cleaned up. Not that anyone had let her do much with her limping around the ward. Aislin wasn’t badly injured, but the stitches in her thigh pulled painfully whenever she took a step.

Aislin made her rounds checking on everyone until Clarissa came out of surgery and was transferred into a room. Deirdre was the first into the room, worry pulling at the corners of her mouth. She wasn’t directly involved with the Revolution, but she knew enough and frequented the hospital whenever Clarissa found herself hurt on a mission. Which was too often for the redhead’s liking. Aislin followed close behind into the room, finding Deirdre already studying the monitors.

“What does that one mean?” Deirdre pointed to one of the flashing lights. “And that one?”

Aislin gave them a quick glance. “Everything’s normal,” she assured before placing a hand on Deirdre’s back who turned to face her. “She was perfectly alert when I found her, making jokes even. Once the anesthetic wears off she’ll wake up. It’ll be a long recovery for sure, but Claire will pull through. She’ll be fine, Rey.”

Deirdre’s frown deepened at the nickname but she said nothing before falling into a chair at Clarissa’s beside.

When Deirdre continued to say nothing, Aislin pulled out Claire’s chart, studying over the Doctor’s notes before pointing out various injuries. She knew it would help Deirdre to know exactly what was wrong. “Fractured radius and ulna, right side. As well as a dislocated shoulder.” Her hand hovered over Clarissa’s casted forearm before gesturing to her right shoulder. “Three… no four broken ribs. She’ll need to be careful while those heal, or she could puncture a lung. Gunshot wound to the abdomen, it was a clean shot. Straight through and it didn’t puncture anything important. Worst case is an infection. Minor concussion. And a shattered femur, probably from when the building collapsed. That one is honestly going to be the worst of it. And she will be out of commission for a while, while it heals.”

Deirdre nodded along, compiling the list of injuries through her mind. It was truly nothing too serious. Especially after she’d heard of one of the other members of Claire’s team who had barely made it out with his life. Things could be worse. Everything could be so much worse. But still her girlfriend laid there pale and bruised and dead to the world.

“Thank you, Aislin,” she finally said.

Aislin nodded silently, giving Deirdre’s shoulder a slight squeeze before she limped out of the room. She found Castor brooding against the wall outside, arms crossed over his chest and head leaned down so that his icy stare was focused on the floor.

“You can go inside you know, Deirdre won’t mind.”

“I know.”

She squinted at him, tilting her head to the side as she noticed a tear in his shirt sleeve. The dark fabric stained with something even darker. Blood she figured. “Did you get that looked at?”

“Did I get what looked at?”

Of course he hadn’t… She sighed, shaking her head before pulling up his shirt sleeve to reveal a bullet wound. “It’s still in there… God...” Aislin let out a breath. “Never mind, you can’t go in there because you’re coming with me. And we’re getting that taken care of. Doctors orders.”

“Orders? Like you so graciously followed orders? And last I checked, you’re not a doctor,” he reminded her. “I’ll take care of it myself, later.” Castor shrugged his shoulders, wincing ever so slightly at the movement.

“I almost was.” She crossed her arms over her chest, returning his stern gaze. And pointedly ignoring his jab about her not following orders. She’d done the right thing, and she refused to apologize for it. The only thing she would apologize for was worrying Adair, and Carrick. She could still feel the way the lad had pulled her into a tight hug. Throwing his arms around her with a broken sob immediately after seeing her. The boy had quickly schooled his features plastering on a mask that would rival even Castor, but in that split second more guilt had hit her then when she’d been faced with Adair’s worried silence.

“Either way,” she continued. “I am more qualified than you are, so either follow me or I will drag you to an exam room myself. And that is a threat.”

“You, and what army exactly?” Castor gave her a ghost of a grin, a small shred of emotion reserved purely for his sisters and Tyde.

“I don’t need one.”

——

Aislin had gotten him to an exam room with little more argument. He sat on the table obediently while she washed her hands and pulled on a pair of gloves.

Castor pulled off his shirt, tugging the dried cloth fibers away from the wound as Aislin sat down beside him. He didn’t wince or even groan as she dug the bullet out with a pair of tweezers, keeping himself perfectly still from years of conditioning.

“You know,” she finally said, once she’d gotten the bullet out. The metal clinked into a bowl as she set it aside. “It’s a wonder I never noticed you and ‘Rissa were involved in all of this before. You’ve got enough scars to rival me, and you two seemed to always be covered in one bruise or cut or another.”

“We never wanted you involved. You finding out about us was a short step to you enlisting yourself…” he started with a small frown. “Once you get an idea in your head no one can sway you from it. Determined. And loyal to a fault,” he said the last word with a printed glance in her direction and she merely grinned at him. “And we were right, here you are. Back from your first mission, with a bullet wound of your own to show for it. Though that is Clarissa’s fault… giving us away by setting you up with MacClyde of all people.”

Aislin’s hand stilled over his wound. “You disapprove?”

“It’s not that…” Castor sighed glancing down at his hand. “He is good for you. And you’re happier than I’ve ever seen you. But, Aislin, you’ve been through enough already. Too much for one lifetime, much less ten. And this life, it isn’t easy–“

“He…” she started. “Adair was going to leave. Or try to, at least. For me.”

“You stopped him, of course.”

“I didn’t want him to regret anything. And we both know, involved as he is, the Revolution never really would have left him.” Aislin shook her head, returning to Castor’s wound. She cleaned it, trying to make sure she had gotten every fragment of the bullet out before she began stitching it up. “I chose this, Cas. I knew what I was getting into.”

The muscles in his arm tensed when she made the first stitch, a betrayal of calm exterior. He really hated needles. Castor said nothing more as Aislin stitches him up, his mind traveling to his sister in the other room. He’d gotten a rundown of her injuries from Johnson as soon as she’d been pulled out of surgery before he’d left to assist Avanda with Ferret.

Guilt still gnawed at him for nearly leaving the smuggler behind. And if it hadn't been Clarissa or Aislin on that mission with him, he would have run back into that building himself. He hated having even needed to assign her to the mission. But she had been the only medic available with any chance of holding her own if a fight broke out. The best equipped to keep the sabotage team stable as they made it back to base.

His jaw ticked as Aislin finished up with the stitches in silence. She cleaned him up, bandaging the wound before leaving him alone with a soft word. And a gentle order to go see Clarissa.

He’d made it into Clarissa’s room with just enough time to see Deirdre slipping a ring on his sisters finger. They said nothing to each other, Castor only giving her a slight nod. Deirdre had been welcomed into the family long ago. It was about time things were made official.

——

“Oh, no you don’t, MacClyde,” Adair tested the name in her ear, having just left Ferret’s room and catching her from behind by her waist as she left Claire’s room for the third time that night before she could restart her rounds. She beamed rolling her eyes a little. “You’ve done enough playing hero for one night, everyone is stable. The nurses can handle it. Let yourself rest, love. I’d rather you not pull out those stitches.”

“And what of you?” Aislin questioned turning around to face him. She took his face in her hands, trailing her fingers softly over his cheeks. Between the mission, and his work in the hospital after, Adair looked truly exhausted. Though she’d be lying if she said she didn’t feel the same. “You’ve done just as much I have.”

He rested his head against her forehead, speaking slowly. “If I do recall mo sholas, I’m not the one who had a building collapse on top of them.”

“Nearly collapse,” she corrected with a gentle smile. “There is a difference, however slight. And everything worked out fine.”

“That doesn’t make it any better.”

“I’m fine, love—“

“MacClyde,” Ciáran called from a few feet away, drawing both of their attention as they turned to face him. He tossed something to Adair, gold glinted in the light as it flew. Ciáran quickly left without another word, leaving Aislin with a raised brow as Adair opened his palm. His mother’s—now Aislin’s ring rested in his open hand.

“I’d wondered where that went,” he mused aloud, turning it softly over in his hand.

Aislin smiled softly as Adair grabbed her left hand. “I didn’t want to risk losing it, so I left it in my locker,” she confessed. It’d been one of the last things she’d done before leaving with Castor and everyone else on the extraction mission, placing the ring securely on a shelf in her shared locker with Clarissa. “Ciáran probably found it when Clarissa had him go grab some of her things.”

“Back where it belongs,” he whispered as he slipped the ring on her finger. Adair kissed her slowly, one hand tangled in her hair, the other on her waist pulling her closer. “Let’s go home,” he said when he pulled away. “I’ve got someone I want you to meet, but it can wait until tomorrow.”

Aislin nodded before resting her forehead against his shoulder. Too tired to even really process what he meant, the day finally starting to catch up with her. Someone to meet? She didn’t even question it. She still couldn’t wrap her head around the fact that she’d run a mission, and a successful one at that. Or that she hadn’t frozen in fear when things had turned dangerous. And if she was being honest, it had been a little thrilling being out in the field actually doing something. Maybe she could actually make a difference in this Revolution yet.

Adair held her for a moment longer before gently guiding her out of the base. He only let Aislin limp a few steps beside him before scooping her up into his arms. She didn’t even protest as he carried her to the truck. Adair left her in the passenger seat with a quick kiss to the temple and promises to be back in just a moment. He went back into the base, saying his goodbyes and wrapping up a last few things.

Aislin was asleep by the time he made it back out.