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immortalcoelacanth · 4 years ago

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Between the Walls, Chapter 2: Salutations and Explanations (Dream SMP fic)

... Although, I should probably tag this as more of a Sleepy Bois Inc thing given the content... Anyways, onto chapter 2!

Word count: 5356

Summary: At it was at this moment that Tommy knew, he fucked up.

“Let me tell you one thing, you pig bitch-”

There was a tiny child in his walls.

“And I bet your mum ain’t all that-”

A tiny child who was yelling at him, insulting him.

“So, you better listen up! Motherfucker-”

Techno was almost impressed.

He wondered if the kid was aware of how absolutely not intimidating he sounded at the moment. His voice cracked and broke occasionally as he cursed, he was visibly trembling in what Techno assumed to be fear, and he looked like he was moments away from crying with those wide eyes and that terrified look on his face.

The kid reminded him of a cornered animal, terrified and lashing out to try and protect itself. He was doing the same thing, trying to scare the hybrid off with harsh words and false bravado.

Techno quietly thought about how young he must be. It was a good thing Phil was nowhere nearby since nothing would have saved both him and the kid from the ensuing lecture and interrogation period. Questions about where the kid was from, who he was, what he was doing here…

Questions he should probably be asking before the kid broke down crying. He had a feeling it would happen eventually when all that adrenaline wore off and the reality of the situation fully sunk in, so the currently shrinking window of opportunity was the best chance he had for finding out what he needed to know.

“And do you know what the fuck a breath mint is?”

… But first he had to shut this kid up.

“You got anything to say? Huh? Or are you just gonna-HEY!”

The tirade was cut off when, without warning, Techno reached out and pinched the back of his shirt, using that to lift him up in the air and out of the shelter that had been provided by the wall.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” The kid squawked as he struggled and squirmed in an attempt to escape Techno’s grip. The hybrid rolled his eyes as he continued looking the tiny being over, occasionally turning him so he could inspect the rest of him. The only thing of note he found was the belt the kid wore that had various tools hooked onto it.

Nothing that really posed a threat to him, but it was still good to take note of it.

“Trying to find the off button.”

“The-OFF BUTTON?! EXCUSE YOU, YOU BITCH-”

“Damn, doesn’t seem to be one.” He noted in that same, monotone voice. Of course, this ended up enraging the kid further, his shouts and curses growing louder.

His wild, frantic eyes growing wider.

Well, now was as good as time as any to start asking some questions before he ended up pushing the kid too far. He swore he could hear that tiny heart pounding away in the kid’s chest, and the hybrid realized it was entirely possible for the tiny being to pass out on him, or worse, have a heart attack from the stress.

Double time on that interrogation, then.

Techno changed his grip, wrapping his fingers around the kid and getting bit in the process-

This child was absolutely feral. He’d probably need a rabies shot by the end of the day.

Eventually, and with some careful maneuvering to make sure didn’t drop the struggling figure, Techno was able to place him down on the top of the small shelf located near the entrance of his house. It was right in front of a window, too, and he saw the way the kid’s eyes flickered between him and the possible escape route.

Nope.

Not a chance.

The hand placed between the kid and his freedom earned him a scowl and being flipped off once again, though he was quickly getting used to this brash and foolish behavior. In a way, it reminded Techno how he had acted when he was much younger. How cocky and overconfident he had been before the world brutally showed him where his place was.

Now, his confidence was backed by years worth of training. By the lives he had ended and the blood he had spilt.

It made him smile at the memories, oddly enough. Naturally, the kid immediately took his smiling to be about something far more sinister, and he started shouting once more.

“What the fuck do you got planned, huh? Got some creepy shit planned? You… you gonna need a bone saw or some crap like that for me-”

“Oh please, all I’d need is a decent nutcracker.” Techno scoffed, completely oblivious to the look of horror that passed over the kid’s face before it was quickly replaced by that false bravado.

“Can’t believe you’d threaten me like that-”

“Not what I was talking about!” The hybrid quickly interrupted, visibly shuddering and in turn making the kid let out a loud laugh.

Just how in the hell was something that small so loud anyways? Weren’t there rules about that sort of thing, mass being proportionate to how loud something could be. There was a reason why he had hated hanging out with kids when he was younger.

… Except for Wilbur, he had always been the exception.

Not wanting to take an agonizing trip down memory lane back to when his family had been whole and alive, Techno decided it was time to start asking the questions he wanted answers to, beginning with the most important one of course.

“And why are you in my house, anyways?”

“Your house?” The kid scoffed and crossed his arms. “It’s mine! I called dibs!”

“Heh?” Techno found himself at a genuine loss here as he tried to comprehend the logic behind that statement. “You can’t claim-I built this place.”

“Doesn’t mean you called dibs, bruv, and you did a shit job of buildin’ it, too. It could use more decorations that aren’t you! And music!”

The hybrid let out a frustrated groan while dragging a hand over his face. Why had one of the most annoying, obnoxious, and loud people he had ever met decide that his base was the perfect place to invade. Why had this kid picked him instead of somewhere else, like L’Manberg.

… Actually, that was another good question to ask-

“So, when are you gonna clean up this pigsty?” The kid asked, completely derailing Techno’s train of thought.

“I fear for your brain cells if all you can come up with are pig jokes and saying fuck over and over again.”

“... Fuck you-”

“And my concerns are proven to be valid.”

“My brain works perfectly fine! It’s just yours isn’t big enough to get it!” He snapped back.

“Suuuuure, pipsqueak, whatever you say.” Techno sarcastically drawled. It seemed as though either the aloof expression on his face or the nickname he had granted the boy only enraged him further, as he watched the kid start stomping the ground as he continued shouting.

He was witnessing a literal tantrum.

“I’m not a pipsqueak! You’re the one who's freakishly tall!”

“Like I couldn’t tell with you calling me big man every five seconds, and I’ll just keep calling you that since you seem to like it so much.”

“Then just call me Tommy! It’s not that hard!” The now named Tommy exclaimed, and it was only when a smile appeared on Techno’s face that he realized he might have messed up.

“Uh… I mean-”

“So, that’s your name.” Techno interrupted, grin growing as he leaned forward and rested his chin on a closed fist. He was enjoying messing with this kid. It was almost as fun as terrorizing Quackity. “Got any other important info you wanna share? Credit card number?”

“No! No, no way!” Tommy let out a nervous giggle and took a step back. “C’mon, man, let’s see some manners! I told you my name, so you should tell me yours-”

“Technoblade.”

“... What?”

“Or Techno for short.” The hybrid continued, not caring about the stunned and confused look on the kid’s face. He was used to people looking at him weird, especially when they heard his name. “No pig-pun name here.”

“... You were so close to having a cool name.” Tommy bluntly said. “You’ve got half a cool name. Now Blade, that’s intimidating! Big man Blade-”

“Never call me that.”

“Alright TechnoBitch-”

“Your insults are getting worse by the second, I fear you’re undergoing cellular brain death.”

“Are you making up fancy words to sound all smart now? Cellular?” Tommy scowled. “What’s next? You gonna start talking about other made up stuff, like leprechauns, or dolphins?”

“... Dolphins are real-”

“That’s just what the dolphin believers want you to think! The… the dolphevers!”

Techno threw his head and started laughing, the noise surprisingly loud. It made Tommy jump as he winced at the volume. Discomfort ran through him, and he started to slowly realize how dangerous the situation he was in might be.

He had always been warned to stay away from humans, and while this guy didn’t look all that human, he was sure the same warning applied. He could be trapped, hurt, tormented…

Why, why had he decided to stick around instead of just running off, or trying to barter for his freedom? He had always lived his life on the edge, flirting with danger instead of women. The thrills and excitement of interacting with a human could have driven him to do this.

Or perhaps it was that quiet voice within him that begged him to interact with Techno, to reach out and be social and finally interact with someone after all the days he spent alone.

A voice that kept insisting that things would be alright, that he would be okay.

A voice that could result in his demise if he listened to it.

He would never see Tubbo again...

His mind made up, Tommy slowly backed away from the hybrid, one hand raised while the other behind his back towards the belt that Techno had noticed earlier. “Well, this has been fun and all but I’ve got to head out and you’ve got some cleaning to do, roomie.”

Techno’s eyes narrowed as his bout of laughter finished, aware that he had something planned that would probably cause some problems, but before he could act on his suspicions, Tommy made his move.

And chucked a fist full of sand in the pigman’s face.

Immediately, Techno let out a shout and recoiled, lifting his hands up to his eyes in an attempt to scrub the gritty substance out of them. Tommy took his chance and pulled out his grappling hook, attached it to the side of the shelf, and quickly slid down the rope. In his haste, as well as the movements caused by the hybrid’s thrashing, the grappling hook came loose, and he dropped the rest of the way to the floor.

Tommy landed, cringing as agony raced up his legs, and did his best to ignore it as he shot off towards the space under the shelf, knowing he would be hidden from sight and have a better chance at escaping.

He had to escape since he doubted his captor would be that nice to him again.

Meanwhile, Techno was currently battling every urge he felt to lash out and kill the kid. His mind and soul screamed for blood, for death and revenge for the humiliation and pain he had been put through. It took all of his willpower to stop himself from grabbing his trident and slamming it into the floor in an attempt to find, and kill, Tommy.

The main source of his restraint came from a voice that sounded a bit too much like Phil’s calmly whispering that there were other ways to do things, that he did not have to resort to violence.

This was then converted to make him pay, but not with death. Death is a release, not a punishment.

His eyes burned.

He let out a pained hiss and blindly reached towards the nearby brewing station, managing to get the bottle of water he had placed in it for potion brewing. He uncorked the top, looked up to the ceiling, cracked his eyes open, and quickly flushed them out to get rid of the sand.

All in all, only a couple seconds had passed since the sand had been thrown and Tommy had escaped. He could not have gotten far, but the more time the hybrid wasted sitting here, the further the kid would get.

Techno tossed the bottle to the side and quickly crouched down, still aching eyes scanning the wall as he tried to figure out where Tommy had gone. He spotted a flash of blond ducking behind part of the wooden shelf, and he quickly moved the wooden panel that covered the bottom part of the shelf. It was like a box of sorts and that could be used as storage space, but he had never put anything there and just left it closed.

So, naturally he had not at all been expecting to lift the panel up and find a tiny hole in the wooden floor, the perfect size for Tommy to fit through. His mind ground to a halt as he processed what he was seeing.

THERE WAS A HOLE UNDER THE SHELF?!

WHEN HAD THIS HAPPENED?!

Okay, okay, now was not the time to get caught up on. The kid was under the floorboards, possibly heading towards the basement. He rushed over to the ladder, slid down it, and jumped onto the stone flooring. He looked up at the ceiling, not seeing any obvious sign as to where the kid must have gone and decided that using another one of his senses might pay off.

Techno shut his eyes, ears twitching, and listened carefully. Listened for that one, signature noise that would tell him where Tommy was.

The sound of someone running over wood.

There!

On instinct, he swung the axe towards the sound, the blade chopping into the ceiling and exposing the hidden passage that had been carved into, and the boy who had been sprinting through it.

Now, this was where things took a bit of an interesting turn.

You see, despite the fact that Tommy had spent his life in a borrower settlement, he was quite experienced in building structures and had frequently challenged Tubbo to speed bridging contests. The adults always hated whenever he did that, claiming that the flimsy structures would alert humans to their hidden home, but Tommy had always ignored them and kept building.

… Until they resorted to hitting him. Then he stopped, but the skills he had developed over the years stayed with him, so the second he started falling he also started building. He had managed to place a couple blocks down as he fell and grabbed onto the little outcropping he had made. He was vaguely aware of Techno moving below him but was far more focused on trying to pull himself back up into the remains of his tunnel.

Can’t fall, gotta stay up! Have to run!

Unfortunately, his hand slipped off the planks, splinters sinking into his skin as he started to fall. Falling, and-

Landing on the top of Techno’s head. Surrounded by the crown the hybrid always wore and with no escape in sight, he decided to cling to the strangely soft, pink hair below him. It smelled… weirdly nice. There was a hint of a herbal scent he could not place, but it didn’t smell super flowery or anything like that.

“You’re pretty fruity, aren’t you big man?” Tommy impulsively asked, and he felt Techno freeze below him as the hybrid realized what the sudden, impossibly light weight belonged to. Seeing an opportunity to get another jab in, he immediately went for it with little regard to how precarious the situation was. “Lookin’ all… all flamboyant with your fancy dye!”

“I doubt you know what that word means, and it’s not dye.” Techno dryly retorted, tilting his head upwards so he could try and glare at the kid.

Seeing that nothing bad had happened, the hybrid had not tried to crush him, nor had he been grabbed and flung towards the nearest wall, Tommy decided to take a risk and started speaking once more.

“.... Hehe, guess things are fine then, big man-” He nervously laughed before he was cut off by Techno picking him up once again. The kid immediately started thrashing, squirming, and cursing as he tried to break free.

The hybrid rolled his eyes at the unnecessary dramatics and made his way over to the collections of chests on the other side of the room. A quick search resulted in him easily finding the item he was looking for.

A bottle.

He caught a glimpse of Tommy glancing between him and the bottle, his face shifting between pure rage and fear, but before he could object to what Techno was planning on doing, the cork in the bottle was removed and Tommy found himself being trapped inside.

“LEMME OUT YOU PRICK!” He shouted as he slammed his fists into the glass wall, wincing as his hands started aching.

Techno just chuckled and put the cork back in, preventing the kid from escaping and making it much harder to hear his shouting. A blessing in disguise, really. “Think of this as karma for the sand from earlier.”

Seeing no way to get out, Tommy flipped the hybrid off and slowly slid down the side of the bottle until he was resting on the ground. His arms crossed, knees were tucked to his chest, and he looked down so his face was hidden from sight. At least his silent moping made it easier for Techno to think.

What to do next…

He had the kid who had been borrowing through his house like some oversized termite, and he knew the kid’s name. There was still so much information he was missing that he wanted to know. What the kid was, if there were any more of him nearby-

An infestation was the last thing he needed.

… Perhaps the librarian back in the village would know something about this tiny kid. He knew that the somewhat eccentric villager had a large collection of books about all sorts of topics, so there was a chance he might have some kind of information he could dig up.

It was worth a shot.

He mentally debated on whether it would be worth it to bring Tommy with him, and ultimately decided he would in case he needed to show him off to the librarian, or one of the other villagers who might know about him. Without bothering to warn the kid, he quickly scooped the bottle up and fastened it to his belt.

He faintly heard the sounds of someone shouting and cursing, and decided to ignore it as he left the house. Techno hummed to himself as he made his way over to the nearby village, not bothering to waste any ender pearls since he still lacked a consistent source of them. No villagers were able to trade them, so his only option was relentlessly hunting down Endermen until a pearl was dropped.

Annoying, but necessary for now.

Speaking of annoying, he spared a glance down at the bottle on his hip that contained the furious Tommy, taking note of how the kid was smacking the glass walls and trying to find a way out. The red hue that had taken over his face also made it clear that he was still screaming.

He let out an exasperated sigh and picked the bottle up off his belt, lifting it up so it would be easier to talk to the kid. Now that he was up close, the hybrid could easily see the look of frustration on the kid’s face, as well as how red his eyes were.

It looked like Tommy had been crying.

“Calm down. I’m not gonna kill you.” Techno grumbled. “And stop screaming before you lose your voice.”

“You’re a bitch!” Tommy spat, not at all paying attention to what he was saying. “Fuckin’ dragging me out to who knows where, planning on doing who knows what-”

“I’m not going to sell you.” The hybrid interrupted, lifting a brow as he watched pure shock cross Tommy’s face. “... You really thought I was gonna sell you-”

“Well yeah!” Tommy sputtered as he flailed his arms. “The fuck else would you be doing?!”

“Interrogating people.”

“The fuck-”

Those were the only words Tommy was able to get out as the bottle was clipped back onto Techno’s belt. He shifted his arms a bit so his cape hid more of his body, and in turn the bottle, from sight. When that was finished, he strode into the village.

Children ran to and fro, some pausing to wave at him or whisper among themselves. He ignored them, as he always did, and continued on towards his destination. He also steered clear of any of the villagers he normally traded with, not wanting to get caught up in some unwanted conversation. He kept walking, picking up the pace whenever he heard someone get a bit too close to him until he reached the library.

It was far from your traditional library, much more of a home with a massive collection of books available for people to read. Techno didn’t bother to knock on the door, opting to instead open it and walk inside. A somewhat large, sparsely decorated room with simple shelves greeted him.

A moment later, the sound of rustling in one of the small side rooms filled the air and the familiar face of the local librarian popped out of it. He resembled your typical villager, though the spark of curiosity made his eyes glint and shine. He was obviously curious as to why Techno had shown up, but before he could ask the hybrid spoke.

“So, what do you know about tiny people?”

“I’m afraid you’ll need to be a bit more specific than that.” The librarian cheerfully replied, not at all phased by the seemingly random question. “Are there any particular features you can describe? Do you have an example?”

Immediately, Techno’s hand moved to his side, ready to grab the bottle and use Tommy as his example. However, just as he was about to snag the bottle-

He froze.

Dread coiled in his heart, an uncomfortable sensation that he had not felt for many years. He grit his teeth as he struggled to sort out exactly what he was feeling, what his instincts were trying to tell him.

Tommy’s wide eyes, tears still lingering in the corners-

Was… was this guilt?

There was no way he was feeling guilt! It couldn’t be. He had felt no guilt when threatening the kid earlier, didn’t really care all that much about him. So, why did the thought of showing him to someone feel…

Wrong.

He was unable to come up with an answer, feeling frustrated with himself. It was a stupid emotion, a weakness, but at the same time his instincts, those same feelings, had gotten him out of dangerous situations in the past. He’d be an idiot if he didn’t keep listening.

So, he dropped his hand and opted to explain instead. “Short, couple inches tall. Uses tools like grappling hooks to get around. Lives-”

“In houses?” The librarian finished, that sparkle in his eyes growing brighter. Looking a bit thrown off, Techno nodded.

“Yeah. How’d you know?”

“You have perfectly described a borrower!”

“... A borrower?”

“Yes! Humanoid beings who are only a few inches tall! Generally, they tend to live in already inhabited homes, or with other borrowers in hidden settlements! They’re signs of good fortune.” The librarian explained as he scanned the shelves, looking for a specific book. “It is said that there is a powerful connection between borrowers and humans, their companionship offers a kind of peace and feeling of completion that we cannot hope to feel on our own-”

“I’m assuming that doesn’t apply to hybrids as well.” Techno interrupted, brow raised in a combination of curiosity and disbelief.

Borrowers… so that’s what Tommy was. And the kid had chosen to live with him? Why? And what had he been doing in a frozen wasteland before that? Was there one of those settlements nearby, or was there some other factor that had driven the borrower into staying with him.

So many questions, and so few answers.

To his surprise, the librarian quickly shook his head. “Your assumption is incorrect, Blood God. On the contrary, borrowers and hybrids have been known to share settlements in the past, working together and helping one another out-aha!”

A book was pulled out of the shelves, cover worn and title nearly illegible. After the book was given a quick once over, it was presented to Techno. He immediately took it, held it up in the dim lighting, and read the title aloud.

“A Historical Investigation into Borrower Society…?”

“Indeed! That should be a good starting point for your research on borrowers, and I can search for other texts if you wish to read them.”

“... That would be helpful, thanks.” Techno nodded while adding the book to his bag. He then pulled a couple emeralds out of it and looked at the librarian. “How much do I owe you?”

“Nothing at all! It warms my heart to see someone else taking an interest in borrowers,” The librarian exclaimed while clapping his hands. “And for my library to be blessed with the presence of one.”

Ah, Tommy.

He must have either spotted the bottle the borrower was in, or one of the other villagers must have and then passed the information along to him. Either way, the hybrid felt…

Annoyed.

His eyes narrowed and he unconsciously shifted so the side of his body the Tommy was on was further away from the librarian. He also flared his cape out, so the borrower was completely hidden from sight.

He was unaware of how Tommy had pressed himself against the side of the bottle upon realizing he had been seen. Unaware of how the borrower had tried to take shelter in his presence despite the rough start to their meeting.

Unaware of the wide, confused eyes that stared up at him, trying to comprehend that his captor was protecting him.

The librarian, seeing the change in Techno’s mood, quickly backed up and lifted up his hands. “Fret not, Blood God, I would do no harm to your charge.”

… Charge?

Before he could question what the librarian meant, the robbed man quickly ducked into some side room and started rummaging around in it.

“The next time you visit, I shall have something to give you! I promise!”

Had… had he just been given the signal to leave? Techno stood around awkwardly for a couple more moments as he waited to see whether the librarian would make another appearance. When he did not, the hybrid decided it was time to go.

Social interactions had always been a critical weakness of his. For how intimidating and threatening he could be, that mask would dissolve in an instant if he started floundering while talking to someone.

Wilbur had always teased him about it…

The walk back to his house was, thankfully, silent and allowed him the perfect opportunity to think about what he had learned in the village. Tommy was a borrower, a tiny being that lived in houses and stole for a living. He had no real magic or other noteworthy skills, aside from the advantages brought to him by size. He could be sneaky.

However, he still had to think about what to do with the borrower. Let him stay, or kick him out.

Soon enough, the hybrid found himself making his way up the stairs to the front of his house, letting out a relieved sigh once the door shut behind him. His shoulders loosened, the tension he had been carrying since he first entered the village fading in an instant.

He hated talking to people, so much.

Techno glanced at the nearby table and then looked down at the bottle on his hip. He promptly lifted it up, met Tommy’s eyes, and spoke.

“If I let you out and you don’t behave, I’m gonna fill the bottle with water and stick you back in it. Got it?”

Tommy shuddered and quickly nodded.

Stupid, he was so stupid for getting himself into this situation, and now he had no idea what Techno was going to do with him! Of course, he could always try to escape again, but he doubted he would get far, and if he got caught…

Nope. He was just going to sit, wait, and try to be as quiet as possible.

Upon seeing that Tommy was listening and actually keeping his mouth shut, Techno uncorked the bottle and tilted it towards the table so the borrower could easily slide out. Once he was settled on the table, the hybrid walked over to the other side of the room and started thinking.

Thinking about what his options were and what he should do.

Was it worth it to keep Tommy around? To have to deal with an annoying presence constantly in the place he had created as his retirement home. Would the aggravation be worth it? What would he get out of it, anyways?

They’re signs of good fortune.

Borrowers and hybrids have been known to share settlements in the past, working together and helping one another.

…That librarian had a point.

It would be useful to him to keep Tommy around, or kill him, even if the kid didn’t give him any good luck. He definitely couldn’t let the borrower leave, lest someone from L’Manberg snag him and get him to spill everything he knew about Techno, and if he kept the borrower around there was always the potential to use him in the future.

To have a tiny spy on his side could be quite the valuable tactical advantage, especially for when L’Manberg came after him.

He doubted Quackity would stay down for long.

So, with a plan properly in mind, he directed his attention back towards the borrower who was, thankfully, still sitting on the table. It looked like the kid had been zoning out until he heard the sounds of Techno’s approaching footsteps. He got back to his feet and glared at the man staring down at him.

Was… was he trying to be intimidating?

Techno let out an amused snort, ignoring the resulting remark about him really being a pig, and started explaining his deal.

“Alright, tiny-”

“TOMMY!”

“ Tiny.” Techno insisted, and to his surprise Tommy actually shut up.

It was probably due to the fact that he wasn’t really in any kind of position to argue or make demands. His life was on the line and he knew. All he could was hope the human would show him some mercy and not chuck him out into the freezing cold.

Whatever it was, it worked in Techno’s favour.

“So, here’s the plan. I’ll let you stay here, give you food and shelter, but you have to give me something in exchange.”

The deal was simple, with the benefits to Tommy being obvious. Something that he hoped would distract the kid and prevent him from questioning what Techno got out of their agreement.

Or what he would get, that is.

“What the fuck do you mean, big man?! Give you something in exchange?! I don’t have anything to exchange!”

“Well, since you said you don’t have anything to exchange,” The hybrid began, taking another step forward so he was closer to the table, already witnessing the real purpose behind his plan coming to fruition.

Tommy paled and took a step back as Techno loomed above him, shadow engulfing his tiny frame as that scheming smile crossed his face. Okay, it was clearly an awful decision to agree to his idea. Abort, abort-

“You’ll just have to work for it, then.”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Techno's character arc for this fic is literally him going from exploiting one orphan to two XD

#my story #fanfiction #dream smp #dream smp fic #borrower au #dsmp tommy #dsmp techno #borrower!tommy #sleepy bois inc #sleepy bois inc fic

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chibivesicle · 4 years ago

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Golden Kamuy chapters 251 and 252 - rumble in the brewhouse

These chapters show the beginning of the mess that is happening inside of and outside of the Sapporo brewery. Or as I’d like to colloquially call it Abashiri 2.0. Chapter 251 is a color cover page featuring Tsukishima and Koito. Let’s just take a second to look at this page. I personally love this cover page and as the manga has continued many of you know that I’ve warmed up to Koito since Karafuto.

Both men a surrounded by items related to them. For Tsukishima there is the bag that Edogai made, his bathhouse supplies, one of Koito’s trunks, various firearms, a grenade like the one he threw at Abashiri, a bayonet and lots of shells and military packs and bags. On Koito’s side there are his menko, umbrella from the circus, his childhood motorbike, saber, an anpan and his photos.

What I find interesting is that some of Koito’s items are from his past and are related to Tsukishima as one of his kidnappers while other items are present Koito. In contrast, all of Tsukishima’s items are from the current timeline and events in the manga, but not from his past, e.g. not hair from his fiancee.

One of the question posed on the cover is asking if ‘love’ is found on the battlefield which really gets back to Tsurumi’s epiphany about the power of love and how he uses that to create his super loyal men on the battlefield. Looking at both of them I read it as Koito looking forward to perhaps finding his own ‘love’ and purpose as he stands in a stiff and serious pose. Meanwhile, Tsukishima looks down, his eyes shaded and his hands in his coat pocket. It seems that Tsukishima may be reflecting on all of his past deeds on and off of the battlefield. This makes sense to me since Tsukishima has much more experience than Koito.

We also know that since both me disobeyed Tsurumi’s orders in regard to Tanigaki and Inkarmat, they have tied each other together in their independence from being total Tsurumi loyalists. Well enough about the cover, let’s get into the action.

The chapter starts with Sugimoto leading Asirpa and Shiraishi towards Ushiyama, Kadokura and Kirawus. Sugimoto boldly claims that they need to hurry since Kadokura and Kirawus are unreliable and useless. Burn.

Noda quickly updates us on everyone’s locations while Usami meets his match in Ushiyama.

It is clear that Hijikata’s group is now at a disadvantage as the other groups are running opposite of Jack. Sugimoto comments on Usami trying to fire a rifle at Ushiyama, and the others rush even more quickly to the location.

Usami, quickly realizes that Ushiyama is no man to be trifled with and he drops the rifle in favor of judo. The situation only becomes worse as Ushiyama has a moment of thought in the heat of conflict to ask Kadokura to confirm Usami’s identity. Good job Ushiyama!

Kadokura of course confirms he’s working for Tsurumi and at that point Tsukishima, Kikuta, Koito and Nikaido arrive. Again, Kikuta is the one in charge as he orders them to step away from Usami. Tsukishima has his rifle already drawn and Kikuta has his pair of revolvers ready. This really shows that the 27th is ready for action.

The next page has Koito taking charge, telling the others to stand down so that he can attach with his saber and prevent the chances of friendly fire hitting Usami.

I don’t think Koito is being an idiot rushing in without thinking in this instance. Instead, he’s thinking of the best course of action with the ‘safest’ option to try to help Usami without harming him. The fact that he makes his order and then gives a rational reason tells me that Koito is becoming more mature in how he thinks about things. Unfortunately, he doesn’t know that Ushiyama is no some normal guy. It is Nikaido who advises against close combat and Koito doesn’t even manage to get that close as Tsukishima tells him to dodge as he can see that Usami is about to get tossed into the air.

The next page is a repeat of Ushiyama’s ability to toss people long distances. Recall that back when Hijikata first recruited him to join his faction, he tossed a naked prostitute through the air in a similar fashion. Tsukishima’s warning is enough for Koito to show his athletic abilities and we are even given a slow motion panel of Koito looking at Usami’s face.

I think this shows that Koito and Tsukishima have reached a better level of communication between the two characters. I think if this were back before Karafuto, the timing would have been off and instead of avoiding the UFO (Usami Flying Object) Koito instead would have been taken out by Usami. But he doesn’t get hit by Usami, he’s able to dodge and they are able to quickly recover to pursue Ushiyama, who smartly jumps into the brewery to escape knowing he’s outnumbered since they have rifles and revolvers. This was a situation that could have backfired, but it worked out well as there is good cohesion between Tsukishima and Koito.

With Ushiyama’s escape, Kikuta takes charge again. The fact that Tsukishima has been working with him on and off for a long time likely means that he respects Kikuta as a strategist. We’ve seen indications that Kikuta thinks quickly on his feet and has good basic urban combat knowledge. The failing of Tsukishima, Koito and Kikuta is an inability to reign in Usami.

They saved him fro Ushiyama and ran into the brewery while he gets up on his own and with his bayonet targets his favorite tanuki, Kadokura. It is clear that Usami’s obsession with Kadokura goes completely against his current orders from Tsurumi to catch Jack. For a man who was dedicated to catching him to show his worth to Tsurumi to receive his love, it is clear his love of Kadokura overrides that. Could it be that Kadokura is Usami’s Tsurumisexuality kryptonite?

The adrenaline filled chapter continues with our dapper convict approaching the wee babe Kantarou. Hijikata’s aura is strong enough (indicated by that intense screentone action!) that Jack turns and Kantarou stands up to slow down his escape.

Kantarou is slashed by him, but by slowing him, Hijikata is able to pull up his Winchester and aim at the killer. As a result, Hijikata proves to be an accurate shot hitting him in the left shoulder and takes a few more shots before he escapes around a corner. Hijikata orders Nagakura to launch their firework. This is similar to Abashiri where an artificial light source leads to downstream effects for various players. First off, the result is confusion. Sugimoto is confused and Shiraishi wonders what is happening. Boutarou asks for clarification for the direction of the killer and Toni makes it clear that the gunfire was Hijikata’s, he suggests that they split up. The firework also shows us the location of Vasily.

He’s on a roof with his mosin-nagant ready and looking through his binoculars in search of Ogata. The next page is a dramatic zoom in on a fire watchtower. Thanks to @goldenkamuyhunting updating me on the information from @osomanga that this is a fire watchtower. I had been looking for what it was and the best guess I had come up with was an early grain elevator due to the double roof and the location near the brewery. I thought this was a decent guess since most of the agricultural development was driven by Americans in Hokkaido and the wooden grain elevator was once a hallmark of a huge portion of North America. Noda uses classic manga techniques to zoom in on Ogata’s location from Vasily’s point of view to show that he’s spotted his target.

This creates dramatic tension indicating that Ogata is potentially in trouble as he’s been spotted by Vasily and he’s instead paying attention to the action on the ground. Gasp! Ogata is in danger! Of course, I wasn’t worried since, well Ogata is a main character and Vasily isn’t exactly fighting fair for their ‘rematch’ that Ogata isn’t really even aware of.

Hijikata checks in with Kantarou, as he quickly bandages his forehead to stop the blood from running onto his face. Hijikata is proud of him and gives him words of encouragement that he isn’t the type of man to turn his back in battle. Of course he tells him to follow him and Kantarou is beaming in pride and excitement!

We don’t see enough of Kantarou, but I’m honestly proud of him here. He’s a capable gangster, and is becoming more than just a gangster. I mean his eyes are almost sparkling and the screentone behind him is sparkling. I hope Kantarou doesn’t meet an unfortunate end, he’s a solid guy.

Sugimoto, Asirpa and Shiraishi catch up to Kirawus finally who must have hung back and wasn’t noticed by the 7th. Sugimoto of course charges into the building with Asirpa following close behind as indicated on the next page. Sadly, Kirawus isn’t fast enough to get Sugimoto and Asirpa to pause and he only is able to finally tell Shiraishi that there are five soldiers in there.

Of course Shiraishi is concerned and by time he enters, he’s become separated form Sugimoto and Asirpa as he tries to find them and warns them the 7th is inside. Only after some time does Asirpa realize Shiraishi is missing. Yep, excellent leadership skills there Sugimoto. You can’t even keep your party together!

Sugimoto has his rifle ready as he thinks perhaps he’s found Shiraishi. But of course not! It is Nikaido and he’s ready to kill Sugimoto as Sugimoto aims his rifle with his eyes white with murder intent.

All in all this was an epic failure of so many levels. Shiraishi the brains of their team is lost, Asirpa blindly followed Sugimoto and now he’s up against a man who is beyond obsessed with killing him.

Tumblr started to be weird so, I’ll have to split this meta into two parts. Sometimes it can’t deal with images . . .

#golden kamuy #golden kamuy meta #sugimoto saichi #ASIRPA #Shiraishi Yoshitake #hijikata toshizo #nagakura shinpachi #kantarou #kirawus #kadokura #Usami Tokishige #ushiyama tatsuma #nikaido #warrant officer kikuta #tsukishima hajime #koito otonoshin #ogata hyakunosuke #vasily #boutarou the pirate

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marvelatthehottotties · 4 years ago

Text

James Buchanan Barnes - Chapter 1

A/N: Thanks for taking a peak at this! Don’t be afraid to give us feed back! Co-written by @keliza

Prologue Masterpost for the series

Warnings: Second hand embarrassment, bullying, sketchy frat dudes

Words: 3,092

A college freshman. Once again, the low end of the food chain. The bottom rung. Things tended to cycle like that, so you could stay humble. It was your job to learn from it and realize that there was no such thing as the top of the food chain. There was always going to be someone higher than you whether you realized it or not. The end of elementary school was the high end. Then it was middle school. Then high school. A never ending cycle that continued on. Once you finished college it would be you planting right back into the workforce on the bottom rung, like swimming upstream.

Everyone was just a salmon, hopping those little waterfalls. The only issue was you were scared to jump every time that jump happened. You could see the waterfalls were so close and everyone was jumping. But you could also see the shadows of those grizzlys looming, waiting with open mouths to crush you and devour you. Bears didn’t care if you were a big or a small fish, which made being a small fish especially hard.

This was an exhausting process, but the fear of being left behind made you jump finally and you were free to swim again, comfortable now that the bridge was crossed.

And here you were, this waterfall had appeared much faster than you had expected.

Peter had dragged you to a college party. Apparently, he knew some of the people, which honestly blew you away as the majority of the kids here weren’t kids at all. Everyone here looked like they had credentials, like they were legally allowed to drink, not just kegging to get the alcohol.

Peter. The scrawny pipsqueak that had grown up next door. The one your mother loved and your father hoped would one day be his son. Peter and you wouldn’t love each other like that. He’d always eyed the popular cheerleader. The perky homecoming queen. And you…. Well you just couldn’t tear yourself away from the fantasy men in your novels. You were rarely attracted to people. Well, real people anyway. The kind you had a chance with.

This battlefield was different. You need to jump this waterfall and just swim on but the anxiety of not knowing anyone was creeping up your throat.

“Excuse me,” an enormous, sculpted man with an accent chirps. He flashes you a flirty smile as he slides around you. In your horror (had your eyes seriously deceived you?), you stumble backward and away from the punch table, careful not to bump into the couple unabashedly making out in the corner.

The man’s arms rippled as he made a few drinks and quickly returned the way he came, shooting you another overly friendly smile. A horde of drunk girls squealed as he returned to them, passing off the second drink to a dark haired guy nearby and the girls converged like vultures on him.

You glanced around. The couple nearby wasn’t quite as desperate as the highschool students in their antics. It was softer, looked tastier. You darted your gaze away, feeling like you were intruding. Where was Peter, he’d been in the bathroom an awful long time now.

The pit of nervousness was filling you, sinking harder as it grew in your gut. You looked about for anything familiar, struggling to find something.

The Stark house was something straight out of a magazine. Perfect for the well off lawyer and his family in town. Nothing like your own family home. Soft and quaint, quiet even. This was loud and sharp and modern. It was too cold to be familiar in the way you wanted. It offered no comfort.

Neither did these older people. Most of them couldn’t be more than five years older but you still managed to feel out of place. Like a child at a PTA meeting. You wanted to go home so badly, but Ned, who’d driven, also seemed to be missing.

“Looking for a drink?” Someone asked, you glanced, because it was loud enough to hear over the music. You were surprised, however, to see a stranger making direct eye contact. A tall, dark and handsome guy with a crooked nose and an even more crooked smile. It made your gut drop nervously.

“No, thank you,” you managed, politely. “Just waiting on my friends.” Your hands tighten harshly on your purse strap as the guy steps closer.

“You sure? I’m making one myself, it’s no trouble.”

“That’s kind, but I'm the designated driver, can’t drink,” you lie. The guy gives a shrug at you.

“Are you even old enough? To drive? You look pretty young.” You give a non committal shrug and start glancing around, praying that Ned and Peter would appear. This man was making your skin crawl and you think it might be better to look for an out.

Nearby there are some college guys spinning someone in a desk chair. The kid looked like he was gonna be sick. Plenty of hollering sounds as he does hurl and give a drunken smile after.

“Ew,” the girl from the couple behind you hisses. So, she’d managed to notice as well. She grabs his hand and drags him away, leaving you with the dark haired guy.

“Brock,” the guy offers, and moves closer. You dance away a bit, uncomfortable with how close he now was. “Hey, sorry. I’m not some bad guy, just making conversation.” He doesn’t step back. Dread is sinking in your gut and you pick anxiously at the sleeve of your sweater.

“I should go look for my friends,” you start, voice dropping to prevent from it shaking.

The guy takes a step towards you, and you do the only thing you can think of as alarm fills you. You were not well known for being bold. You dart quickly only to knock into someone else so hard you nearly tumble back. You’re terrified as you look up into the face of another man. His eyes are hard as he glances over you quickly, then they dart to the guy directly behind you.

“Brock,” rolls a voice from the guy who’s hands are now on your waist, steadying you. Despite the casual way he says the name, it’s got a warning to it. “Why are you over here trying to scare girls?” He was helping you?

“I was just going to come looking for you,” you blurt before he’s even done speaking. Glancing up at this man, hoping he’d roll with your lie and focusing less on the fact that his hands were so warm. He adjusted immediately.

“Steve’s around here somewhere. Sorry for leaving you. Do you want to go sit?” He asks. His hands resting ever so gently on your shoulders now. You nod.

“Ain’t she a little young for you, Barnes?”

“My cousin is none of your business, Rumlow.” Brock looks pissed as he locks his jaw. You grasp the new man’s hand hard and without any hesitation, he leads you toward the stairs. “Let’s get some air on the upstairs patio, kiddo.”

Kiddo! Kiddo! Your savior thinks he saved a kid! Not a damsel? This was straight out of a romance novel and the lead (who was incredibly handsome) just called you his cousin and kiddo. Oh, but he smelled like motor oil, and that made your toes curl.

God was cruel.

“I’m eighteen,” you interject as he drags you up the stairs. When he flashes you a smile you catch your toe on a step and nearly die on those stairs. The guy hooks an arm under you to drag you up, however. Your cheeks heat as mortification fills you. But he’s so close…

“Mhmm. Focus on one foot at a time, okay?”

Kill me.

And you manage to make it up the stairs without too much more trouble. He navigates around the bodies with ease, meandering away. Finally, he arrives out on a balcony with you. A few people linger around. You took a moment to take him in. Hair pulled up in a little bun on the back of his head, a wide jaw, cute nose and cool blue eyes. Not to mention he had grease streaked on his arm. Whatever vehicle he was working on before this, he hadn’t showered between and it gave him a delightful metal smell. Complete with his tattered tee shirt and stained jeans and boots, he looked like he’d rolled right out of a novel.

“You’re gone five minutes and you’ve already got a girl?” Someone sighs. You snap your eyes to a tall, slim kid who’s lounging on one of the designer patio chairs. He brushes some of his soft blond hair from his eyes.

You were suddenly aware that you were still clinging to this poor man’s hand like my life depended on it. “Ah! Sorry, I-I didn’t… I didn’t mean to-”

“Relax, doll, you’re okay,” he chirped and lead me over. “This is Steve.”

“Hi, Steve,” You greet meekly. “Thanks for getting me out of there but I should be heading to find my friends Peter and Ned,” You try to excuse.

“Getting her out of there?” Steve repeats, and his awkward expression regresses into a stone cold one.

“Yeah, Rumlow’s ass was harassing her. Meet my cousin. I’m adopting her.” Your cheeks flare. Worse than being friend zoned. I swear.

“Brock?” Steve repeats, eyes flaring.

“Sit your ass down, Steve, it’s taken care off. Why don’t you sit down with us?” The last part is directed at you. “Your friends can come find you.” You almost deny it, but your savior… you want to learn more about him.

“I don’t want to intrude,” you offer.

“Non-sense,” Steve calls. “Sit.” You slowly sink down on a patio sofa, your hand relaxed in the guys hold. You notice the twitch of thick muscle beneath his shirt as he moves to settle beside you.

“So, what’s your name?” The cute guy asks.

“(Y/N),” you answer.

“Nice to meet you, (Y/N). I’m Bucky.” Your heart flutters uncomfortably in your belly. It was rare you reacted this way, but he’d been so kind. When Bucky settles beside you, his knee pressed against yours and you’re so caught up by it you don’t notice the knowing look Steve passes to Bucky. Or the grin that Bucky sends back to him.

“Have you graduated?” Steve asks.

“Yeah, I start at Avalon College this fall, do you guys go there?”

“Stevie does, I don’t.”

The casual conversation ate away at the wild adrenaline that sunk your gut. The nervousness easing in the presence around. Only the bitter awkwardness was gaining on you.

“So, what do you do?” Bucky glances down at the front of his tee shirt and you catch the name of the local mechanic shop. When he looks back at your embarrassed face, he flashes an amused grin and throws an arm over your shoulder. Being so close to the warmth of him. “Mechanic?” You manage to squeak. How had you not noticed the bright white lettering on his black shirt. It hid the grease stains pretty well. Probably do to his pearly white smile, or his sinful smirk.

He threw an ankle over his lap and twisted. “Yes, ma’am. What are you studying at school?” It felt so intimate how close he was leaning in.

“Uh, undecided,” you offer. When you glance at Steve, he’s trying to hide his big grin, warm eyes gentle on you.

“What are you doing at a party like this, it doesn’t seem like your normal scene.” He asks.

“My friends Peter and Ned dragged me with them. I’m usually the third wheel. To be honest they may have forgotten I’m here.” Steve frowns at me. “I guess Peter got invited by Tony earlier this week.”

“They don’t sound like very good friends,” Bucky rumbles, eyes narrowed coldly. It makes you gulp and retreat into the cushions a bit.

“No! They’re wonderful. They support me as much as I support them. They’re just easily distracted, you know?” Bucky still frowns at this answer and shakes his head.

“And leave you alone long enough that Rumlow starts to follow you.” You shift uncomfortably.

“You know, I’m going to grab a drink,” Steve offers awkwardly. “Do you want anything? Water? Juice?” He asks you.

“Uh, juice if they’ve got it,” you reply. He stands and leaves, not bothering with Bucky’s. You try to push the thought behind you. That he’s getting you something non-alcoholic for you. You teeter between grateful, and irritated. Was he doing it because they thought of you as a kid or because he wanted to make sure you weren’t taken advantage of?

You start to squirm away from Bucky a bit, as Steve leaves. “I’m gonna check my phone real quick,” you offer. He gestures for you to go ahead and watches as you drag it from your back pocket.

“Hey, Bucky!” You hear someone call. Light and airy, like a goddess. You lift your head from the lock screen to see a gorgeous blonde, approaching. Legs looking extra long in her leggings and heels.

“Hey, Lindsey,” You don’t like the twitchy nature she inspires in Bucky. His hand twitches by your shoulder, like he almost dragged it away as he moved to sit up straighter. Apparently he thinks twice about this move and sinks into a more natural position. She’s not even looking at him as she struts toward the chair on the other side of him.

A little voice nags in your head. They have history. You can see in the way he tries to act nonchalant. If you hadn’t seen that nervous (or eager, you can’t quite tell) shift, then you wouldn’t be able to tell. He keeps his voice even and his eyes never waver. You admired him silently for being able to hold his nervousness at bay like this.

“Who’s your little friend?” She smiles sweetly, a perfect facade to her real intentions. You briefly wondered if she was being sincere but the wording made your brain stutter with hesitation.

Bucky took a short intake of breath that you could feel against his shoulder as he switched from lounging next to you, to tucking you against his ribs. His expression chilled to something akin to the one he gave Brock downstairs. “What do you want?” He rumbles, voice still even. Her face flutters a bit, not expecting his reaction.

“Wha- excuse you? I was being polite!”

“No, you’re being passive aggressive. What do you want?” Her expression sours from offence.

“I came by to talk to you, James,” she hisses the name and it only makes him roll his eyes at her. “Rumlow said she’s your cousin. Looking a little comfortable there to be a cousin.”

“You always listen to what Rumlow says, Linz?” He didn’t bat an eyelash even though you were squirming uncomfortably. She turns her eyes on you, they burn into your soul.

“Can you give us a minute, hon? You’re kind of intruding on a private conversation.” Her hand drifts closer, reaching toward Bucky’s knee.

“Me?” You squeak. You wish it’d been hissed out but your lack of confrontation, shoved you down. Never in your life had you felt so offended. Were there really girls like this still?

Bucky’s hand tightens over your shoulder and his ankle slips from his knee. He doesn’t hide the fact that he’s sitting straighter now as you’re practically crushed to his side. His hand would be more exciting if the pettiness you feel rising in you wasn’t so raw. “Yes, you.”

“No, not her,” Bucky rumbles low. “She’s not going anywhere if she doesn’t want to.” To spite her, you deliberately bite back nervousness and place a hand on his thigh, near his knee. You hope it looks natural enough. You think it does as her hand falls away from where it hung in the air.

“I don’t want to,” you promise, your voice still soft. You cannot believe you’re being this bold.

“This is between us!”

“She was here first.”

“Fine,” she sighs, and moves. She turns towards Bucky more. It sends a bolt of unease through you. “James, I wanted to talk about getting back together with you. Don’t tell me you don’t want to, too.”

“Lindsey,” he states, and for a moment, you fear he will cave. His arms draw away from you, he leans close to her. “After this, you can go fuck yourself.” He says softly. Too softly. He’s mocking her. A little thrill floats through you. Amazed at how good this felt. She shoots a shocked look at him. Then you. Then she became furious.

“JAMES BUCHANAN BARNES! YOU’RE A FUCKING PIG!” She squeals in absolute outrage. As she flies to her feet. He tilts back against the cushions, expression ever cool. You couldn’t read him at all. “I’M SO SICK OF YOU TREATING ME LIKE SHIT! SHE’S LIKE FIFTEEN! THERE IS NO WAY SHE’S FUCKING LEGAL!” She twists towards you and on reflex you snatch up Bucky’s hand and squeeze tight. “Don’t worry, he’ll break your heart and leave you just like the rest of us, sweetie.”

“That’s nice,” you manage to squeak. She fumes, deciding to storm away, you hear her as she flies down the stairs, screeching insults along the way. “Wow,” you whisper to Bucky, flushing from the onlookers. Your savior snorts and bursts into laughter.

“Sorry about her,” he chuckles. “Guess we're even now, kiddo.”

“Does that mean I have to leave now?” You ask.

“No! No, you can stay as long as you want.” He shoots you a beaming smile.

“There won’t be any more exes, right?” You ask, only half joking. The mechanic throws his arm over your shoulder and tugs you against him, ruffling your hair playfully.

“Don’t worry, (Y/N). I’ve got your back. You’re too pure to let anyone bully you but me.” You peek up at your new crush in surprise.

“Yeah, but wait until the rumor mill gets ahold of the fact that we’re cousins and lovers,” you shoot back.

“Ah, fuck ‘em. Haven’t you heard, incest is in right now.” And his wink flutters your heart even as his words disgust you. This reminds you vaguely of the uncomfortable crush you had as a child on a distant cousin. The crush that you only ever spoke of once to Peter… when you were drunk. This crush would never be more than that, but for now, you’d let Bucky tug you a little closer than necessary, forgetting to check your phone all together.

tagging: @tomisbaeholland

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #college au #bucky au #avengers #the avengers #avengers au #modern #bucky x you #bucky/you #bucky/reader

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chief-of-restless-hearts · 4 years ago

Link

Chapter 3: Oaths

. . .

Only in the sensible blackness did he remember that he couldn’t have run. It would have killed them. Slade might not even have chased him if he escaped the base. He might have let him run, and then let him return to the Tower to find four dead friends.

Dick drifted in and out of consciousness, losing count of the slow, bleary hours.

Time crawled without any way of measuring it, but the next time he stirred awake his stomach was pinched and complaining. He hadn’t eaten since breakfast, his mouth was sandpaper dry, and his head felt stuffed full of throbbing wads of cotton.

He needed to get into the bathroom, for the water, to smear the cold wetness over his face until the crusting blood washed away, to gulp it down until it cleared his throat and his head.

But he felt so heavy, and he didn’t need to do that just yet.

He could wait...

and let his eyelids fall closed...just one more time...

. . .

The next time his dry eyes drifted open, he forced himself to move. It wasn’t quite as painful as the night before, but as he pushed up onto all fours he had to stop and wait for a cold shadow of dizziness to pass before rising the rest of the way and making his way haltingly over to the door that he knew would be locked. He checked it anyway.

He pressed his forehead against what was definitely a locked door and waited for the room to stop turning before making his way to the little bathroom.

Everything seemed gray through the mask lenses’ artificial light, and the mirror seemed almost black--save for the glowing white eyes that stared back at him. That at least was a relief. He pulled his gloves off with clumsy fingers, twisted the faucet, and plunged his face under the icy stream, gulping it down until his stomach threatened to send it all up again. Only then did he scrub away the flakes of blood caked along his left jaw and cheek, and pry his mask away from his face just far enough to splash water against his still hot, dry eyes. Knowing Deathstroke, he could be watching even now, even in the dark.

He braced his forearms against the porcelain sink, the water only just beginning to cut the weight of exhaustion away.

It was sinking in that for the first time since this ‘apprenticeship’ began, he didn’t have his hours dictated to him. With that door locked, he didn’t have to go out, listen to Slade, obey Slade, and pretend to not care. In theory, he could now do whatever he wanted.

In theory.

His room was bare, without even an assignment to distract from the dim silence. But at least it was better than having to look Slade in the eye after...that.

He took another chest-stabbing breath, willing himself to relax, and it was in that silence that his memory conjured up Slade’s voice as clearly as if it had been spoken into his ear.

“It’s as rigged over as you are.”

With ragged, painful motions he stripped off the top of his uniform and flung it onto the floor before starting on the pants. When he wore only his undershirt and shorts he sank down against the edge of the shower base. The underground labyrinth was as chilly as ever, and he rubbed his fingers briskly over his bare arms. He could tolerate the cold if it meant Slade didn’t get to read his system like a book.

But there was a blanket on the cot. He made his way across the room and settled under the blanket in the position that hurt his ribs the least.

It really was quiet, wasn’t it? He could hear his own breathing and the low steady thud in his chest, but beyond that the room was as soundless as a sealed tomb. Though he knew better than to think that Slade would keep him in there long enough for it to become a literal one, Dick began psychologically steeling himself for what could be a hungry few days. If necessary he could slow his breathing and heartbeat to essentially hibernate through the empty hours, but until then, all he really wanted to do was sleep.

. . .

He managed to ruffle Jason’s mop of coarse black curls before the kid ducked away with a growl of protest. Laughing, Dick dropped down beside Jason on the edge of the tower roof. The kid scooted away to put a full three feet between them.

Despite the mere two years between them in age, Jason stood a full head below Dick in stature. The teasing over that had stopped after Bruce explained that it was due to childhood malnutrition.

Jay scowled down at the trees surrounding Titans’ tower, but his lips were twitching treacherously.

With a renewed grin, Dick leaned forward just enough to catch his eye. “You know, we could do this more often if you’d just come over to the Tower. It was fun today, wasn’t it? Being part of the team?”

Jason’s masked gaze shifted away from him. “He doesn’t let me go out alone.”

Dick’s grin slipped. “Oh.”

He watched Jason fiddle idly with the corner of his cape; it was the same butter yellow that his had been before his work with the Titans had driven him to make a few alterations to his Robin costume. It still felt strange seeing his colors on someone else, even if he had grown past the discomfort.

Jason was a good kid. It had hardly been his fault when Bruce suddenly decided that his first Robin wasn’t doing the job well enough anymore.

“...But he might if you were in Gotham,” Jason continued suddenly. “If you came I could show you some cool tunnels I found by the docks. He never lets me explore with him, but together we could...” his gaze slanted toward Dick again, and he shrugged, “y’know, have fun.”

Dick could hear the barely reined eagerness in his voice.

He should have agreed. He should have gone home. But just the thought of facing Bruce again was enough to shut that option away altogether.

He kicked back against the Tower wall. “I dunno. It’s just that the HIVE called a hit on the team recently, so we’ve got this mercenary to deal with. I’m still working on a plan to draw him out, and...I think I must have mentioned some of that earlier.”

“No. You didn’t.”

“Well, I promise to stop by as soon as I can, li’l wing.”

He reached to ruffle Jay’s hair again, but the boy slapped his hand away and pushed to his feet.

“You know, Bruce said that we’d be brothers,” Jason bit out. “That’s a real joke. It’s been two years and I barely even know you.”

Something gripped Dick’s throat. “Jay--”

"I should get going,” Jason interrupted, not even looking at him. “Bruce and I are planning on going to a Knights’ game tonight. Unless he’s busy too.”

Jason leapt off the roof, arms spread like a bird as he fell. Dick jolted to his feet, to call after him, to catch him--but below the tower was nothing but a black void, he couldn't see Jason anymore, and all of a sudden, he knew that he wasn’t on the tower.

He never had been.

Dick’s phone was ringing. But he didn’t have his phone, not anymore. Still, he took it out of his pocket.

The caller ID said Jason Todd.

He tried to answer. He couldn’t.

The ringing finished, transitioning to the answering message.

“So...hey. It’s been a while, so this is me, calling that number you gave me. You must be busy or something, but I wanted to ask if maybe, when you have time later, we could hang out...or something. So, uh...see ya, I guess.”

*Beep*

The phone was ringing again. Agitatedly, he tried again to answer, futilely jamming his finger into the button repeatedly until the next answering message began.

“Hey. Last time didn’t work out, I get it, but Bruce and I are going to go up to the cabin in Vermont next week, and he said that I should ask if you’re interested in coming with. If you’re still busy with the Titans...that’s cool. No biggie. Bye.”

*Beep*

Dick’s throat tightened with guilt and foreboding. He nearly screamed in frustration as the ringing resumed, until the message brought Jason’s voice again, this time quieter, more tense. Dick stopped breathing.

“Dick. I...need to ask you something. Do this for me and I swear I’ll never ask for anything again, but there’s something that I need to do. I can do it alone, but I was wondering if...maybe --Oh hell, nevermind.”

*Beep*

Dick’s heart was hammering in his ears.

Oh God. Not this. Not again. No.

The ringing came and passed again, uninterrupted.

“I called, Dick. Before Joker, before I even left the manor. And I’ll bet that Bruce still doesn’t know.”

This time, the voice came from a shadow he could just make out through the inky black, caped in butter yellow with gleaming white accusing eyes.

The ringing began again and this time--finally--when Dick’s desperate finger slammed on the button, it stopped. He pulled the phone to his ear.

“Jason?” he asked, breathlessly.

Shrill, manic laughter screamed into his ear, almost but not quite drowning out the gut-lurching crunch of metal slamming into flesh and bone.

He yanked the phone away from his ear, hand slapped over his mouth and fighting back the bile that was pushing up his throat.

Jason’s voice from the shadows, again.

“‘Brothers’. What a joke.”

. . .

He jolted awake with Jason’s name in his raw throat. He was on his side facing the wall, a blanket wrapped tightly around his shoulders, and gradually his true location sank in. He pressed his hands over his eyes and waited for the lingering sensations of the dream to pass. The adrenaline. The tremors.

His sandpaper tongue and twinging abdomen were the only indicators for how long he had slept. It had been too long. He made himself return to the sink for water. Once satisfied, he turned on the shower.

He jumped back at the sharp hiss of the water, only to flush with embarrassment. He sincerely hoped that Slade hadn’t seen that.

The water, though tepid as always, still helped soothe the bruising patched across his torso, back, and jaw. The water cut off abruptly after five minutes, and sullenly Dick stepped out and scrubbed the damp out of his hair with the towel on the rack.

Unable and unwilling to sleep any longer, he dressed and put himself through a series of bends and stretches to gauge how far he could push through the pain.

Far enough, he decided once sweat was pouring from his temples after what should have been a basic warm-up. He would be easy pickings next time Slade decided to teach him a lesson, and that thought brought a prickling of the old anger back. He was sick of being treated like a student, a toy, and a prisoner in turns. It was like the man couldn’t make up his mind.

He sat stiffly against the cot with the silence still ringing in his ears, and waited. Perhaps he should have been using the time to ruminate over a new plan, but for now his mind was a blank.

He waited, and dozed, and tried not to dream.

. . .

A clack jolted him back to consciousness and the door swung open to pour blinding white light into his eyes.

He flung his arm across his eyes, hastily deactivating the night-vision lenses, and peered through the fading pain to see a familiar silhouette standing out stark against the doorway. He stood stiffly before Slade had a chance to tell him to and forced himself to glare into the cutting brightness.

“Get dressed,” said Slade. “I’ll be waiting in the training room.”

“I’m not fighting you like this!” Dick shouted before Slade could leave, hating how his voice cracked at the end. “You’ve already made your point.”

Slade paused, half-turned in the doorway. Dick glimpsed the man’s profile; he was unmasked.

“Who said anything about fighting?” Slade asked dryly. “I’m not going to repeat myself, Renegade. Do as you’re told.”

Slade left the door ajar, and Dick stared after him for a few seething moments before snatching his (still torn) uniform off the bathroom floor. When he stepped into the hallway, the floor seemed to sway under him. He braced against the wall just in time. He hadn’t felt this weak for a long, long time.

He made his way down the seemingly endless hall and entered the gym, half expecting to see Slade waiting on the mat, no matter what he had said. But he wasn’t. He was standing on the right side of the room beside one of the work tables, with something in his hands.

Deathstroke’s sword. Dick recognized it by the elaborate brass hilt as the one Slade always wore strapped across his back. Fending off a twinge of foreboding, Dick approached.

Slade lifted the naked sword so that it rested across his open palms and then extended it toward Dick, who glanced uncertainly between Slade and the weapon.

“Place your right hand over the blade,” Slade instructed, and waited for Dick to comply. “Now,” he continued smoothly, “I’m going to straighten a few things out for you: You are my apprentice now, not Batman’s. You take orders from me alone. You are no longer a Titan, neither are you a sidekick dressed like a parrot, and you will only continue to make life more difficult for the both of us until you learn to accept that and afford me a little trust.”

Dick’s glare hardened. “You don’t honestly expect me to--”

“Trust will come in its own time, but until then, I want you to learn the weight of your word, once given.”

Suddenly knowing exactly what Slade wanted him to do, Dick tried to pull his hand away from the sword. Slade’s hand clamped over his, pinning it in place. Dick pinched his lips together and tried to think.

“What ‘word’?” he snapped.

“You know exactly what I mean.”

. . .

“This is the oath you took?”

Bruce paused, froze, for just an instant. “We’ll share this vow,” he said at last, and if that wasn’t exactly an answer Dick was far beyond caring. “If there is anything about it you would like to change--”

“No.” His fingers trembled over the paper with reverence and anticipation. “It’s perfect,” he whispered.

. . .

With frustration Dick waited for yet another wave of dizziness to pass.

“So,” Slade prompted. “Do I have your word?”

Dick met his gaze with as much defiance as he could muster. “Those words won’t mean anything. Only one thing is keeping me here, and it isn’t words.”

. . .

Batman stood over his bed, holding a single candle.

Dick’s clock read three minutes to midnight. He didn’t even think to change out of his pajamas before bounding after Bruce through the hall, down the stone stairwell, and into the cave that was dimmer than he’d ever seen it. All the way down, the oath worked silently over his lips and then, over a fraying Bible and the light of that single, gleaming candle, he raised his right hand and looked into Batman’s piercing white eyes.

“I’m ready.”

. . .

“Maybe you don’t understand the importance of a vow yet, but one day you will,” Slade said. “Now, say it. What is your name?” When Dick stiffened, Slade wryly clarified, “Your title.”

A moment passed, and Dick knew by the shift in Slade’s expression that something in his eyes must have betrayed his answer.

“Robin,” he answered, and the conviction in his voice was the first solid thing he’d felt in days.

Slade’s hand whipped across his face.

“I’d rethink that answer if I were you,” Slade hissed. The clamping grip over Dick’s hand returned, this time squeezing until the bones of his hand ground together, dangerously close to snapping. Dick held his cry behind his clenched teeth, refusing to break eye contact. “...Or do you need some more time alone to think it over?”

“My name,” Dick repeated, voice level but dangerously tight, “is Robin.”

Without another word the sword ripped out from under his hand, slicing across his palm.

This time Dick didn’t resist as Slade grabbed his upper arm, hauled him down the hall, and flung him like a ragdoll onto the floor of his room. His conviction barely wavered, even as the door slammed shut and locked behind him with a finality that stirred up dread in his gut.

He took one deep breath, let it out, and took another. He activated his night vision and set about cleaning and wrapping his hand with the med kit under his cot. He could handle this, and it was worth it. While in this room, he couldn’t be Slade’s tool. He couldn’t hurt his friends. He couldn’t steal, or kill, or break any of the vows he had made to Bruce and to himself.

In here, he was buying precious time, time that the Titans or the League or Bruce could use to sort out this mess before it got any worse.

He could handle this.

. . .

He couldn’t sleep.

He waited, even used the slowed breathing techniques he’d been taught to use in extreme emergency to bring him close to a coma, but the closest he came to sleep was dreams that he flickered in and out of so quickly and so frequently that it was difficult to discern between them.

“Enough, Jason,” he whispered under his breath. The physical sound touched his ears, pulling him just an inch closer to reality. “I know that I messed up. I should have been your brother, and I should have protected you. I KNOW.”

He flinched as his own shout rang shrilly through his skull--and through his ribs, and then he was coughing, uncontrollably even though the pain spiked through him like claws through his chest, the suffocating fluid wasn’t in his throat it was deep inside his chest and no matter how hard he coughed he couldn’t get it out, he couldn’t breathe...

He didn’t know how much time passed before he was laying limp on his side, sucking in shuddering, painful, but hungry breaths. Slowly, his heartbeat stopped thundering against his ribs.

He should never have left either of them, not the way he had, and the guilt of it clung to the inside of his chest, just as suffocating. But...Bruce had been...different, after Jason came. Suddenly nothing his first Robin did had been good enough for him, Bruce had changed and he still didn’t know why, whether it was Gotham or...or him...

Moving into Titans Tower had been his choice, his hot blooded retaliation against Bruce’s passive-aggressive maneuvering, but he had wanted Bruce to make him come back home. Or ask. Anything but the disconnect that happened instead. In the end it had been Alfred who came to see him, bringing only a question of why.

Slade wasn’t as wrong as Dick wanted him to be, but Dick hadn’t been the only one abandoned. Because where had Dick been when Bruce needed him, when Jason needed him. And now Jason was six feet under and somehow Dick was buried even deeper, leaving Bruce alone, more alone than he’d been since Dick first met him.

When it ultimately came down to the question of blame, each time he torturously cycled through it the answer was always, always, anyone but Jason.

. . .

How many hours had it been, now? Twenty-four hours? Fifty?

Had Halloween passed yet?

Gar had been looking forward to trick-or-treating, wasting hours trying to convince Vic and Raven to come with him. Gar had never had the opportunity to go before, and his enthusiasm had blinded him to the realization that Vic would never agree to treat his cybernetic parts like a costume and that Raven would rather drop dead than put on the Batgirl costume he had bought her in a futile attempt at bribery. It probably hadn’t helped that Gar had been planning to go as himself.

Gar had even bought a Batman costume for Dick...who had been too busy to even consider wearing it.

At the time, he had been utterly preoccupied with his work--that had largely circulated around Red X. His futile plan to draw Slade’s attention by assuming the identity of a skilled thief. Stupidly, Dick had been following the logic that Deathstroke might seek out a replacement for his former partner, Ravager, the boy Deathstroke had cried over as he died at their feet.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Not only had Deathstroke been humoring him the entire time, when the Titans ultimately learned the truth they hadn’t understood at all.

He had made a mistake, he knew that now. But back then, all that wasted time had seemed the most important thing in the world.

Dick remembered Gar’s crestfallen reaction to his apologetic rejection, and winced.

Kory had of course embraced Gar’s plans with her usual wholehearted zeal. When Gar had given her the Wonder Woman costume he had picked out for her she had embraced the much shorter boy in a bone-crushing hug and proceeded to join him in pestering their teammates.

Dick had found it much harder to say no to her cajoling, faced with wide, hopeful green eyes that glimmered with unspoken concern...but he had done it anyway. It was already difficult enough to focus on the mission without her smiles turning him into a distracted, blushing mess.

Though a selfish part of him wanted his team’s first priority to be getting to the bottom of this charade...he did hope that Gar and Kory had still gone trick-or-treating.

Right now he wanted nothing more than to get back home to the Tower and apologize to all of them for being such an ass for at least the past month...but first he would need to get out.

He would get out. Of course he would get out.

Any time now would be good, he thought earnestly, with just a hint of panic as once again the walls pressed down on him from all sides, as though by sheer force of will he might get Raven to hear him.

A voice whispered back, but it wasn’t Raven’s.

“No one ever comes, Dick. No one.”

Dick pulled the blanket tighter around his shoulders and pressed his forearms against his ears. “Please, shut up,” he whispered. “Please.”

. . .

The crack of an opening door and the immediate onslaught of piercing brightness flooded his senses again before Slade’s hulking silhouette cut between him and the light.

Slade grabbed and hauled him upright and then out the door without speaking a word. Dick tripped over his own feet more than once, a blinding bout of dizziness nearly dropping him, but Slade’s iron hold on his arm kept pulling him along. His feet were a little more steady under him by the time they finally reached the gym.

He smelled the food on the worktable before he saw it, and the aroma curdled a confused mixture of nausea and desperation in his smarting stomach. He glimpsed sweet potatoes and stewed oats before forcing himself to look away.

Slade, masked this time, halted exactly where they had stood before. He reached over his shoulder, drew his sword from its sheath, and then slapped Dick’s bandaged hand down on the blade. Slade stared down at him until Dick forced his dry eyes upward.

He was so tired. He saw a chair behind Slade at the table, and wanted nothing more than to slump down into it, already drained by the brief walk from his room.

“Let’s try this again, shall we?” Slade said coldly. “What is your name?”

Dick said nothing, his teeth clamped tightly shut. He wanted this over with. He wanted Slade to send him back into the dark. He also wanted to eat, and he wanted to spit into Slade’s one good eye. But mostly he was tired. He knew what his answer was, but this time he was too weary to say it.

“Do not make me wonder if I’m wasting my time on you,” Slade said in a frigid near-whisper. “Or did I not make it clear that your friends will only live as long as I have a use for you?”

Dick’s heart stuttered in his chest. For the first time he looked into Slade’s face, saw the man’s brow furrowed under the cloth mask, and fresh, almost-forgotten fear curled around his gut.

“I’ll do it,” he mumbled, gaze drifting down to his hand on the sword.

They were just words. It didn’t matter. Not really.

“Look me in the eye when you’re speaking to me.” Slowly, wearily, Dick obeyed the order. “Your name?” Slade prompted him.

He forced the name out. It felt like ripping something out of his chest, something he could never put back. I’m sorry, Jay. I’m sorry the title had to die with me.

“Renegade.”

“And what do you swear to do,” Slade asked, “on the lives of your friends?”

He could have sworn he could still smell the burning wick, feel the leather binding fraying under his fingers, still hear Bruce’s baritone voice overlaying his own as they spoke the oath together, ‘I swear to fight against crime and corruption, and never to swerve from the path of righteousness--’

“I swear to,” he swallowed, “serve as your apprentice.”

“And?”

“To follow your orders.” Words. Just words, he told himself, even as frustrated tears pricked at his eyes. “But--”

“No,” Slade barked. “No conditions. That isn’t how this deal of ours works.” Slade pulled the sword back and slid it back into its sheath. “We’re done,” he said shortly, and waved a hand toward the tray of food that Dick had given up on looking away from. “When you finish that there’s medication in the kitchen.”

Dick watched Slade walking away, fully confident that he had won, and what was left of Dick’s anger reached its boiling point.

“What about you?” he burst out. Slade stopped, and turned slowly. “If this is a deal, then what’s your oath?”

Slade surveyed him for a long moment before he spoke. “You have what I’ve already promised you, that I’ll teach and train you to the best of my ability...and that your life from now on will only be as difficult as you make it. You have my word on that. And I do keep my word, Renegade.”

He turned, then stopped as though something had occurred to him. “Oh, and I fixed you a new uniform top. You’ll be wearing it tomorrow night.” Slade grabbed something from the table beside him and tossed the black and orange bundle of kevlar beside the food tray before starting for the hall. “I’ll be going out tonight,” he called back. “If I were you, I’d use the time to ensure I was in shape for my first encounter with the HIVE.”

As soon as the doors closed behind Slade, Dick dropped like a stone into the chair by the table. His stomach was doing uncomfortable things at the sight of the food, and it was all he could do to make sure that he ate slowly enough to keep the food from forcing its way up again.

Finally he finished and leaned back in the chair. Slade had left an ice pack beside the tray; Dick carefully pressed it against his ribcage, and was musing over what medication he should take before proceeding with some semblance of a workout when Slade’s final words finally sank in.

The HIVE? They were going to ‘encounter’ the HIVE?

The one mystery that had haunted him beyond that of Deathstroke’s identity had been the HIVE’s location and intentions. The Titans had known that Ravager had been hired by the mysterious organization, but beyond that Dick hadn’t had a clue of where to start an investigation. That had left the team completely vulnerable to whatever attack might come next, and it had been driving him mad.

But then Deathstroke had proven himself a more immediate threat, and the organization had lost its priority.

What was Slade planning now? He had as good as said that first night that he planned to hold the HIVE accountable for what had happened to his son, and that he intended for Dick to help him do it. Well, that was one thing Dick would not object to.

Dick’s gaze drifted toward the new uniform lying on the table, forgotten until now. A little curious, he reached to pick it up

--only to drop it like a burning coal.

A familiar emblem, a golden ‘R’ that he hadn't expected to see again, was attached to the kevlar over his heart.

R, for Renegade.

+ - + - + - +

A flurry of thin screeching and leathery wings heralded his return. Long, weary steps, hindered by the tattered cape tangling around his ankles, carried Batman from the landing bay toward the main computers and past the enshrined uniform.

His fingers skimmed a feather touch across the glass casing in answer to the youthful greeting whose deafening absence hollowed the cave out into a tomb, as it should. He settled heavily into the computer chair, and exhaled as much of the weight as would pass out of his lungs, while the gravity still dragged him down.

Familiar clipped footsteps approached his seat from behind, and then paused. “Welcome home, Master Bruce. I trust that you return uninjured?”

Bruce didn’t push back his cowl, didn’t turn. In keeping with their nightly routine, he activated the computer before Alfred would inquire further.

“Sir,” Alfred began again, hesitantly, “during your absence Lucius Fox made multiple attempts to contact you. I...must insist that you listen to what he had to say.”

“I’ll look into it,” Batman said, and his voice came out like gravel. He swallowed, and then out of basic duty, and debt, he forced out the rest. “...Thank you.”

Alfred opened his mouth briefly before resigning himself to pensively pinching his lips together.

Batman pretended not to notice.

Alfred’s concern was ironic, to say the least. If patrols had been ending with more injuries than usual, even Alfred must understand how little that mattered now. With that shrine erected in memory of a child’s life cut short while the father’s inexplicably lingered on, it was impossible to believe otherwise--or to be selfish enough to wish that the still-living child might return to the city that would only eat him alive too.

He prepared to review Gotham’s recent activity. It was inevitable that an excursion with the League, no matter how rare or how urgent, had resulted in him being cut off from his city. He had told the League to contact him for nothing less than an emergency of intergalactic proportions--and they had then proceeded to summon him for exactly that.

Grimly, he braced for the inevitable. The unanswered signals, the damage, the deaths...

An alert flashing across his screen interrupted his search, and in an instant he was viewing surveillance footage of a recent theft from Wayne Tower.

At his shoulder, Alfred sighed. “Perhaps the messages shall be unnecessary,” he said, a note of tension coloring his tone.

Batman didn’t have time to wonder why before the screen came to life. A figure in orange and black emerged from a hatch and darted across the rooftop--with the Teen Titans hot on his heels. At one end of the roof the figure halted, hand pressed to his ear, as if listening to an earpiece.

Bruce’s finger slammed down on the keyboard to freeze the screen. He zoomed in. The intruder was clearly a teenager, whose long dark bangs nearly obscured the domino mask that left his identity unmistakable.

Bruce lurched to his feet, shoving back his cowl, eyes glued to the screen as he searched desperately for a contradiction to what he already knew to be true.

But the recording played on, and Bruce watched as Dick took on his own team single-handedly, his attacks clearly restrained, yet marked with the ferocity of a battle he could not afford to lose. By the time the clip ended the Wayne sign’s lettering was scattered in smoking shambles across the roof, and Dick had vanished with the dissipating smoke, leaving Bruce with a hauntingly familiar hollow forming in his chest.

“Is the lad alright, sir?” Alfred asked softly.

Was he? Bruce should know, he should have watched his surviving son more closely because he recognized those colors, that pattern--

and, already, it was happening again.

#jason is here!#sort of #bad company #dick grayson #jason todd #slade wilson #bruce wayne #batfam #batman #teen titans #deathstroke #the apprentice #bat family #alfred #my writing #bad company ch 3

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somekindoftuber · 6 years ago

Text

vld youtuber AU (klance, part 7)

hey so who’s up for some a n g s t

(content warning for this chapter: vomit)

“Favorite color?”

“Red.”

“Cool, mine’s blue. Um, favorite subject in school?”

“....Math?”

“Ew.”

“Lance,” Keith laughs over the mic. “You said no judgment. I was good at math.”

Leaning back, Lance pops his back. “Yeah, okay, fine. Mine was history.”

“Ew.”

They’d been sitting in the Overwatch menu screen for at least a half-hour, Keith indulging Lance in a question swap. “You know,” Keith says after taking a drink of his soda. “When I said we should get to know each other, I sort of expected something more.... Organic than 20 questions.”

“What, my methods aren’t free-range enough for you?” Lance joked, and Keith laughed loud at that one. “Well, you should know, Keith, that I have this tendency to focus on things that I want, and I don’t give up easily.”

Keith went silent for a second. “Things you want, huh?” His voice was low.

Lance felt the heat rush to his face. “U-um.”

“Sorry,” Keith said. “Too much?”

Lance chewed his lip. “Is it too much for you?”

Keith’s tongue clicked through the headphones over Lance’s ears, and when he spoke, his voice was almost sultry. “Nah. Besides, I can be pretty driven when I want something, too.”

Dear lord, this man was going to be the death of him. Now that they’d gotten their feelings out in the open, Lance was discovering a side of Keith he never knew existed - a bold, fearless, self-assured side. And holy shit, was it hot, if a little terrifying. Whatever reservations Keith had about flirting before now were long gone, and it would still throw lance for a serious loop to hear Keith directing low key innuendo at him.

“Here’s one for you,” Keith said. “When did you first play guitar?”

“Oh!” Lance grinned. “I was nine. I had already been playing the piano for two years, but it sort of bored me. I couldn’t get it to make the kind of sound I wanted, if that makes sense? Then my dad got his old acoustic guitar out of storage and got it repaired and restrung. When he played it, I knew it was the sound I’d been trying to find.” His eyes went misty as he remembered the first time he plucked one of the steel strings. “It sounded like heaven.”

“Wow,” Keith said after a minute.

“Your turn. How’d you know you wanted to be a pilot?”

Keith hummed. “I was always sort of an adrenaline junkie as a kid. Raced go-karts, ran track, got in trouble, did some free running. I… spent a lot of time in and out of foster care, which was a pretty numbing experience, so I think maybe I was looking for something to make me feel alive.”

Lance had no idea what to say to that, so he kept quiet.

“I went on a field trip to an air force museum with my school when I was thirteen,” Keith continued. “There was a reconstructed Grumman F-14 Tomcat on display, and when I looked at it, I just thought, I need to be in one of those.” He let out a little laugh. “That’s also where I met Shiro. Or, well, he met me. When I stole his car.”

Lance choked, beating his fist on his chest to get air back into his lungs. “Excuse me?”

Then Keith laughed long and loud. “Told you. Adrenaline junkie. I was a brat with something to prove.”

Lance stared at his computer screen. This was intense, and he had a feeling that he was only scratching the surface of who Keith really was.

-----

October began, and Lance was officially panicking. Because Keith’s birthday was at the end of this month and he really wanted to do something special for it. Now that they were hovering in some bizarre “not boyfriends yet” zone, Lance figured it wouldn’t be too much to maybe go a little further than he would for a friend.

He got out his guitar, a notebook, blank music sheets, and a pencil.

——-

Lance’s channel was gaining followers rapidly. He was no stranger to having an online following, but he had to change his notification settings on twitter to keep his phone from blowing up constantly. He pondered making a separate, locked account for himself, something his friends could follow where he could drop the YouTube persona.

He was sort of envious of Keith’s anonymity online.

And speaking of Keith, there was also the issue of a potential move to Springdale. Lance had looked up schools in the area, and the local community college had a music education program that he could afford. He’d closed his browser and walked away from his laptop after he had that confirmation and spent the next fifteen minutes pacing around the living room, running his hands through his hair until it was sticking up all over the place. It hadn’t felt real until that moment; before that, the idea of going back to school and pursuing an actual career had been just that -- and idea. But now? Now he couldn’t really make excuses anymore. It was all very much within his reach. He just had to muster up the courage to go for it.

Easier said than done.

Lance ended up stress eating half a carton of butter pecan ice cream by the time Pidge came home from class.

Lance posted more Overwatch videos in the meantime, held some more streams. His content was slowing down because he’d taken an extra shift every week at the cafe to save up money. He had no idea what his living situation was going to be come January, but it was safer to assume he’d be on his own and have the money to support himself.

He talked to Keith almost every day. They’d started using facetime, and that did a number on poor Lance’s heart, to get to see Keith’s face while talking to him. Keith was still unfarily, stupidly, irrevocably attractive, even when he was flushed and sweaty from working out or covered in grime from the garage. One time Keith had called when Lance was wearing a face mask, and Lance would have been embarrassed, if it wasn’t for the absolutely hilarious confusion that crossed Keith’s face at the sight.

“I’m kind of big on skin care, if you haven’t noticed.”

“Uh.” Keith’s thick eyebrows pinched together. “I hadn’t?”

Lance smiled as much as he could with the mask drying on his face. “Well, get used to it. It’s a packaged deal with me.”

Keith gave him a little grin then, and Lance nearly swooned.

Another night, as they were messing around in Overwatch, the topic of tattoos came up. “Do you have more than one? Tattoo, I mean,” Lance asked while they scrolled through servers.

“Just the one,” Keith answered. “I kinda want more, but I’m not sure what I’d get. You?”

“None.” Lance hummed. “How big is that lion, anyway? I could only see the top bit at the beach.”

“Not that big,” Keith answered. Then there was some shuffling from his end of the voice chat, and he went quiet for a second. Lance thought he heard a click.

“You okay over there?”

“Yeah, yeah. Just - gimme a sec - there.”

Lance’s phone buzzed at his side. He picked it up, the motion completely automatic, to see a new text. He used his thumb print to open it, and the entire universe ground to a screeching halt.

Because on the screen was Keith’s lion tattoo, in its entirety, the dark red ink carved neatly into Keith’s exposed hip. At the bottom of the frame, a thumb was hooked into the hem of a pair of sweatpants, pulling them down and away, and at the top, a dark gray shirt was rucked up to reveal a toned stomach. Lance’s heart might have stopped. There was so much skin, all smooth and milky, stretched over a sharp hipbone, the sweatpants pulled down just enough to reveal the tiny beginnings of dark hair below. Lance’s mouth watered.

“You still there?” Keith was asking, a smile in his voice, but Lance.exe had stopped working.

“Jesus Christo,” Lance breathed. “You -- you gotta warn me before you do that.”

He heard Keith huff a little laugh. “Sorry.”

Lance had the distinct impression that Keith wasn’t sorry at all.

-----

Lance might have pulled a few all-nighters in the course of the month. But he was running out of time, and he wouldn’t be satisfied until it was perfect. This was for Keith, for his birthday, and Lance absolutely did not half ass things like that.

Pidge just rolled her eyes at him and went back to her thesis, heedless of Lance’s internal crisis as she tapped away at her laptop.

He was finally, finally ready to record on the 18th. It took at least four tries to get one good take, and then he had to record backup vocals, additional guitar, piano. It took three days to get the song right, and he didn’t even have a video. A blank screen would have to do.

He set the video to post at 8:00am the next morning, October 23. He really, really hoped Keith would see it, and Lance listened to the song one last time before he went to bed.

I was wondering through, I’d never heard your voice You were just an idea on a screen I was belly up, dried up, a fish out of water Pretending that I could breathe air

But then I met you, and my world burst into color Where was I going before you came my way I don’t know, I don’t care, and I don’t think it matters I’m just so glad that I met you

I had no direction, you handed me a map And it’s pointing me your way I hope that’s alright, ‘cause I sort of can’t help it, You’re drawing me to you, and I don’t want to stop

Because my world is all color now that you’re in it So bright and beautiful, just like your smile And no matter what happens, I want you to know Darling I am so glad that I met you.

In the description, Lance wrote “happy birthday” with a heart emoji, then clicked “schedule video” and let the fates have it. He went to bed with a nervous jitter in his veins.

The next morning, Lance was still anxious as hell, so he went for a long run through the brisk autumn air. After five miles he came home and made some coffee, as it was brewing, his phone rang.

Keith’s number was on the screen.

Lance cleared his throat and picked up. “Hey Keith!” he started, happy that the words only shook a little bit. “What’s up?”

“Hey,” Keith answered. His voice sounded strange. “I, um. I saw the video you posted.”

Lance felt his whole body flash hot as he bit his lip. “Happy Birthday, Keith.”

There was shuffling on the other end of the line. “That was for me?”

“Yeah.”

Keith was quiet for a long time. Then a sudden wet sniffle came through, and Lance felt himself panic. “Keith?”

“Sorry,” Keith’s voice cracked. “Sorry, I just--” he broke off with another sniffle, louder this time. “I’m not used to that. To people doing nice things for me.”

Oh god. Lance had made him cry. And the sound was so sad that Lance felt his own eyes sting. “You okay?”

Keith laughed, the sound wet and strained. “Yeah, yeah, I’m okay. Just. Wow, Lance.”

“Get used to it,” Lance said softly. “I’m definitely the type for grand gestures.”

Another small laugh, then some more sniffling. “What did I do,” Keith whispered, “to deserve someone like you?”

Lance leaned against the counter top behind him, his heart hammering in his chest. “I ask myself that all the time.”

“Oh my god, stop,” Keith groaned, but Lance could hear a smile in his voice. “I have to go to work in an hour. How am I supposed to concentrate now?”

“You’re working on your birthday?”

Lance heard a grunt and the scrape of a chair. “I always do. My birthday’s never been a big deal to me. I think Shiro wants to barbeque tonight, though.”

The coffee maker beeped, and Lance poured himself a cup. “Would it be alright if I made it a big deal?”

Keith hummed. “If that’s what a big deal is to you, then I guess I’ll just have to get used to it, won’t I?”

“Yeah, I guess you will.”

-----

Pidge forwarded an email to Lance the next week. A science conference was being held in Charlotte at the end of the month, and she was going.

“I’ll probably be gone the whole weekend. I’m driving with some classmates, so you can have the apartment to yourself.” She waggled her eyebrows. “Or maybe have someone over.”

“Pidge,” Lance chided, rolling his eyes as she laughed into her coffee.

She was right, though. Lance could have someone over. Of course, there was only one ‘someone’ in mind - but would that be too fast? To ask Keith to come stay the weekend here? Alone with Lance?

His face went hot at the thought. A whole weekend alone with Keith.

They’d only been apart from each other for a little over a month, and facetime was nice and all, but Lance missed him. In person, Keith exuded this… energy that didn’t come through a phone line or internet connection. It was sort of intoxicating, making Lance want to get closer and closer. But would that be too much?

Lance mentally beat himself up for an hour before messaging Keith on discord about it.

LanceyLance Hey so Pidge is going out of town for a conference thing just after Thanksgiving. Would you want to come down here to chill? We can livestream or smth

Keith uh yeah I think that would be okay. what days

LanceyLance nov 28-30

Keith okay cool let me check some things and I’ll get back to you

Lance wondered if “almost throwing up from sheer nerves because I might get to spend a weekend alone with a hot boy” was a good reason to call into work. He went in for his shift anyway and was only slightly distracted. On his break, Lance checked his phone and found a new message from Keith on Discord.

Keith so that weekend looks okay, I put in for time off

LanceyLance cool!

Lance ruined the next three drinks, his heart in his throat.

Later that night, he got on a voice chat with Keith, his heart pounding despite him telling it over and over to calm the hell down.

“I was thinking we could do a livestream, maybe some Overwatch?” Lance said as he picked at a cuticle. “You could be my special guest.”

Keith did that little airy chuckle that made Lance shiver. “As long as you don’t ask me to sing.”

“No promises.” Biting his lip, Lance took a breath. He might as well ask. “You sure you’re okay with this? It’s not, like, moving too fast?”

Keith hummed. “No? I mean, I figured we were just gonna hang out… Why?” his voice dropped. “Did you have other plans?”

“No,” Lance squawked, cursing how his voice cracked. “No, I mean, you said you wanted to go slow, so I was just thinking we could just play some games, maybe watch a movie or go to the marina. That’s okay, right…?”

“Yeah,” Keith breathed, and Lance could hear the smile. “Yeah, that’s cool.”

A hot wash of embarrassment hit Lance, and he covered his face and groaned. Keith laughed a little. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Lance’s voice was muffled by his hands. “Yeah. I just -- jeeze. I must sound desperate or something.”

“It’s not just you,” Keith said softly. “I mean, same, I guess? I know I said I wanted to take this slow, but honestly, it’s turning out to be harder than I expected.”

The admission was unexpected and sent Lance’s blood pressure through the roof. He could already tell it was going to be a struggle to keep his hands to himself.

-----

One week until Keith’s visit. Pidge was packing her bag early and giving Lance absolute hell about it.

“Use protection,” she said, stuffing a shirt into a suitcase. Lance sputtered.

“Oh knock it off!” He shrieked. “He’s coming to hang out. That’s it!”

Pidge shot him a skeptical look as she folded a pair of jeans over her arm. “Sure, sure. Just do me a favor and disinfect any surfaces you decided to ‘hang out’ on.”

Lance threw up his arms in defeat, then went to his computer. He and Keith had already planned out their livestream, and decided it was close enough to make an announcement.

Lance! @lanceylance Hey everyone! Next Friday (11/28) I’ll be holding a livestream with special guest @k_redlion! Stream begins at 4pm eastern. Be there!!

Pidge left early Friday morning, and in the four hours until Keith was supposed to arrive, Lance did one of the most thorough cleanings of the apartment he’d ever done. He dusted, vacuumed, scrubbed and mopped, did laundry and the dishes, changed the sheets on his bed, washed the spare set of sheets for the pull out sofa.

Satisfied, he jumped in the shower and gave himself and equally thorough scrub down. He was all nerves as he dried off and dressed. He was admiring his handiwork in the living room when his phone buzzed.

Keith made it into town, be there in 10

Lance bounced on his heels and went outside to wait. After a few minutes, a dark blue sedan with Virginia plates pulled up and into a parking spot. The engine shut off, and the door opened to reveal Keith, in his leather jacket with his hair pulled up high.

“Nice car,” was the first thing that came out of Lance’s mouth. He internally groaned.

“Rental,” Keith said, closing the driver’s door and going for the back seat. “I love my bike, but five hours on it is a bit much, especially when it’s cold.”

Lance took Keith’s duffel bag for him and led him up to the apartment. He’d set up their streaming area in the living room where they’d be closest to the router.

“The stream isn’t for another three hours,” Lance said, setting Keith’s bag on the chair. “Wanna relax until then?”

Keith slipped out of his jacket, revealing a dark gray sweater that stretched nicely across his chest. “Sounds good. That drive is a little tiring.”

Once Lance had gotten them both glasses of water from the kitchen, they decided on YouTube fail videos, sitting next to each other on the couch, close, but not too close. Keith’s laugh was such a nice sound, and Lance couldn’t help but lean a little in his direction. After an hour’s worth of cats and people slipping and falling, Keith grunted, grimacing.

“You okay?” Lance asked.

Keith gave him a smile. “Yeah, my stomach’s kind of upset. That gas station poptart might not have been a good idea.”

Standing, Lance moved towards the kitchen. “I’ve got some pickled ginger in the fridge, would that help?”

Keith followed him. “Yeah, probably.”

As soon as Lance opened his fridge, horror dawned upon him. “I didn’t get us any stream snacks!”

“It’s not a big deal?” Keith said slowly. Lance handed him the jar of sushi ginger and shook his head.

“It totally is! We need proper junk food for streaming.” He pursed his lips and tapped his chin. “Are you okay if I hit the store? It won’t take long.”

Keith shrugged with the jar in his hand. “Yeah, I’m good. I’ll just hang out and rest.”

He showed Keith where the forks were, taking a little delight in seeing how Keith ate the ginger straight out of the jar just like he did, then grabbed his shopping bags. “I’ve got my phone, text me if you want anything!”

The drive to the store was short, and Lance sped through the aisles with a basket on his arm. Gourmet sodas, the nice veggie chips, lemon cream cookies, a package of fresh strawberries. He’d take Keith out for dinner, maybe Vinnie’s again. This weekend was going to be awesome.

On the way home, however, Lance got stuck in stand-still traffic - he could see just far enough ahead to tell there had been an accident. And there was nowhere for him to turn off to for another few hundred feet, so he was stuck. Frowning, he pulled out his phone and shot a text to Keith.

stuck in traffic, might be a little late

He put Pandora on his phone and turned up the volume, shifting his car into park.

By the time Lance made it back to the apartment, he’d been gone for more than an hour and a half. The living room was empty, but Lance went straight for the kitchen. The stream was set to start in 45 minutes, so they needed to start setting up. “Keith?” Lance called as he stashed the groceries in the fridge. “You good, man? We should get started soon.”

There was no answer.

“Keith?” Lance poked his head out of the kitchen. “You here?” He pulled his phone out of his pocket to see if he’d missed a text as he went towards the back of the apartment. Rounding a corner, Lance stopped. His phone clattered to the floor.

Just outside the bathroom, face down in the hallway, was Keith.

Lance slid on his knees towards him. “Keith!” Reaching for him, he turned Keith over, and gasped. His face was bright red, his eyes screwed shut. He was sweating profusely and burning up with a fever. “Keith!” Lance called again. “Hey, man, answer me!”

Keith’s eyes flickered. “L-lance?” he grunted, his voice weak. “It hurts, oh god Lance, it hurts so bad--”

Adrenaline was dumping into Lance’s bloodstream as he went into full panic mode. “What hurts? What’s wrong? Keith!” But Keith stopped responding, his breathing sounding wheezy and shallow.

“Shit,” Lance muttered, clutching Keith close to his chest. “Shit shit shit!”

His phone was five feet away. He should call 911. But who knows how long an ambulance would take and the hospital was five minutes away, he could get there faster on his own--

Lance had grabbed his phone and hoisted Keith into his arms before he realized it. And shit, Keith was heavy, making Lance stumble and lean against a wall more than once as he made it out of his apartment and to his car, where he dropped Keith on the back seat.

He’d never driven so aggressively in his life.

Lance screeched to a halt outside the ER doors, and barely managed to put his car in park. He opened the back door and pulled Keith out, hooking one of Keiths’ arms around his neck and half-carrying him inside.

“Hey,” he called out. “Hey, I need some help here--”

At his side, Keith made a choking sound, then curled in on himself and vomited.

The whole world became too fast and too slow. Several nurses ran up to them, pulling Keith away. A clattering gurney was brought out. As Keith’s limp body was hoisted on to it, Lance barely registered someone talking to him, asking him what happened.

“I don’t know,” Lance’s throat was closing. “I don’t know, he was fine two hours ago--”

More questions, but Lance couldn’t hear them. All he could focus on was Keith, unconscious on a hospital stretcher, disappearing down a hallway as nurses ran beside him.

TO BE CONTINUED!!

(don’t worry guys, Keith is gonna be fine!! But Lance doesn’t know that OvO)

#klance #youtuber AU

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sunflowerseedsandscience · 7 years ago

Text

By the Dim and Flaring Lamps: Part One, Chapter Three

Previous: One | Two

JULY 2, 1863 GETTYSBURG, PENNSYLVANIA

Gradually, the thick musket smoke begins to clear, and the regiment sets about taking stock of its losses. Mulder and his men begin the dreaded, painful process of identifying their dead, all of them clinging to a faint hope as they cautiously nudge each still figure lying on the ground, praying to themselves that the man has only been knocked unconscious and will spring back to his feet at any moment, good as new. Once in a great while this turns out to be the case... but for the most part, these men have been lost. The surviving soldiers carefully relieve the bodies of their personal effects, their photographs and their saved letters and their bibles, stowing them away to be sent back home to their families at the first opportunity.

Scully approaches Mulder, his freckled face downcast and a good deal paler than usual. He's clutching a folded, bloodstained piece of paper in his hand, which is shaking slightly.

"What's that you've got there, Private?" Mulder asks, as Scully stops in front of him. In answer, Scully unfolds the piece of paper, which, on closer inspection, Mulder can see is a relatively brief letter, written in Scully's own careful hand.

The name signed at the bottom of the page, however, is Private James Halsey's.

"I'll have to copy it over again before I sent it," Scully says, his voice subdued. "I don't want his wife and son to have to read his final words on a piece of paper stained with his blood." Mulder nods stiffly.

"That's probably wise," he agrees, his voice breaking. Scully pretends not to notice as he folds the letter back up and tucks it away, and together, they continue with the grim and grisly work of identifying the lost, of doing their best to make sure that no family back at home will be left wondering about the fate of their husbands or their brothers, their fathers or their sons.

Colonel Skinner approaches Mulder's company some time later, looking exhausted, but grim and determined. Mulder salutes him.

"Captain Mulder, what are your losses?" Skinner asks as he returns the salute.

"Twenty-nine dead, thirty-one badly wounded enough to be carried off, and thirty-three more with minor injuries, Sir," Mulder reports. "None missing, all accounted for in one way or another. More than half of my men are completely out of ammunition. Out of the rest of them, no one has more than five rounds left." Skinner nods shortly.

"I've had the same report from the other companies," he says.

"When do you think that can we expect to be re-supplied, Sir?" asks Mulder.

"I don't know for sure, Captain," says Skinner. "Colonel Vincent's aide was here moments ago to tell me that we're to be taken off of the hill within the next half hour or so. They don't expect another attack on this position tonight; the sun has set, and Colonel Chamberlain's men have driven the rebels far enough back that they won't have time to mount another offense. It's likely they won't have the manpower, either; the regiments charging this hill will have taken heavy losses."

"What have you heard about Colonel Vincent's condition?" Mulder asks apprehensively, and Skinner's sober countenance tells him all that he needs to know.

"He's not expected to survive for more than a few days," Skinner says quietly. Much of Mulder's relief at the day's fighting being over evaporates. "There's no news yet on who will be taking his place at the head of the Third Brigade." Skinner suddenly fixes Mulder with a stern look. "And while we're on the topic of officers being injured, Captain Mulder, would you like to explain to me what in God's name you were thinking when you decided to run into a charging regiment of enemy soldiers?"

"I was only doing what you told me, Sir," argues Mulder. "You told me to take ammunition from the nearest fallen rebel men, if at all feasible."

"I said," huffs Skinner, "that if there was time, before they charged again, you were to order your men to take ammunition from fallen rebels. I did not say that you should go dashing out there on your own, while in easy range of their guns."

"There wasn't enough time to give the order before they hit us again," says Mulder. "And I wasn't about to order any of my men to go out there, not if I wasn't willing to do it myself, first. And one way or another, it got us enough ammunition to hold them back long enough for the Twentieth Maine to mount their charge." Colonel Skinner glowers at him a moment longer, then heaves a sigh.

"Well, I suppose that it's over and done now," he says. "Any minute now, we'll be relieved and sent back behind the lines to rest for the night. I don't know what tomorrow will bring, but I would hazard a guess that we won't be put into action again unless we're absolutely needed. But just in case we are... rest up, and make sure that all of your men do, as well."

As Skinner trudges off to deliver the same message to the rest of his captains, Mulder sinks down to sit on a boulder, watching, exhausted, as the stretcher bearers of the ambulance corps wind their way carefully through the trees and rocks, transporting wounded men off of the hill for treatment at a field hospital. The burial detail will be through soon, Mulder thinks, to bear away all of the men, from both sides, who have been lost today.

Mulder senses more than sees Private Scully sitting down next to him, moments later. Neither speaks; they simply watch in silence as the injured are carried away. The magnitude of what has happened here, of the number of men they've lost today, both in Mulder's company and in the regiment on the whole, is just beginning to sink in, now that the adrenaline rush of having won the day's fight is dying away. Mulder lowers his head, momentarily overcome. The sudden dryness in his throat becomes unbearable, and he fumbles for his canteen at his belt, only to find that it is, at long last, empty.

A movement at the edge of his vision catches Mulder's eye, and he turns to see Private Scully offering him his own canteen. Mulder takes it, gratefully, and takes long, cool drink before handing it back to his friend.

"I kept it full," says Scully. "Just like you told me to." Mulder smiles and nods his approval. Scully puts the canteen back on his belt, and the two lapse back into silence... but already, Mulder is beginning to feel better, comforted by nothing more than his friend's steady presence.

It's not long later when a fresh regiment finally arrives to take over the defense of the hill, and Mulder calls what's left of his company into formation. The exhausted regiment troops down the hillside, many of the men almost asleep on their feet, Mulder most certainly among them. He's not quite certain how long they march for, or where, exactly, they're taken; he only knows that eventually, the regiment comes to a halt in a grassy expanse of ground underneath a copse of trees that will, come morning, provide them with comfortable shade. Tents are not set up tonight; the supply wagons are still at the rear of the line, and anyway, there's no telling what could happen in the morning. Even though the regiment may not see any action tomorrow, they will still need to be ready to get on their feet and move wherever they're needed at a moment's notice.

The moment that the order is given to fall out, Mulder sinks heavily to the ground next to a slender willow tree, and Private Scully crouches down next to him. Scully seems marginally more awake than Mulder, but not by very much.

"Let me have a look at your head, Mulder," he says. "Before you go to sleep. It should be cleaned out as much as possible." Mulder's only answer is to groan, but he rolls obligingly onto his side so that Scully can examine his scalp in the last of the day's fading light. He feels gentle fingers sifting carefully through his hair, and he hisses when Scully makes contact with the wound. "I'm just going to pour a little bit of water over it, all right?" he asks, and Mulder grunts a response. He hears a faint clatter as Scully removes the canteen from his belt again; then, moments later, there's the pleasant sensation of cool water on the back of his head.

"Feels good," he mumbles sleepily.

"I've got one clean handkerchief left," says Scully. "I'm going to use it to bind your head, all right?"

"S'all right," mumbles Mulder, very nearly asleep, but still enjoying the feeling of Scully's fingers buried in his hair. It's oddly soothing, and it's somehow making him even more sleepy. Scully winds the handkerchief around his head and knots it in the front, near Mulder's forehead, so that it won't bother him if he rolls over during the night.

The last thing that Mulder is conscious of, before sleep pulls him under fully, is Private Scully stretching out next to him, just close enough so that their arms brush softly against one another.

They wake, only hours later, to the apocalypse.

The sound of cannon fire is so loud that at first, Mulder can't even figure out which army is doing the shooting. He flips reflexively onto his stomach almost before he's fully awake, his hands clasped protectively over his head, and next to him, Scully has assumed the same position. They both wriggle on their stomachs until they're closer to the trees under which they've sheltered for the night, searching blindly for any meager protection that they can get.

It's still dark out, but there's a faint pink glow away on the eastern horizon that suggests that dawn is not too far off. Mulder, fully awake now, finally understands that while the artillery fire is coming from both the Confederate army's and the Union army's cannons, their specific regiment does not seem to be the target. For the moment, they're not in danger.

The shelling continues, on and on, until Mulder begins to believe that this thunderous roaring will be unceasing, that it will never, ever end. All around him, men are ducking their heads between their knees, clapping their arms tightly over their ears, trying in vain to shut out the cacophony. Next to Mulder, Scully's shoulders are hunched, but the blank expression on his face suggests that the young private is elsewhere, mentally retreating somewhere inside his mind, away from the hell on earth that serves as their current place of residence.

The sun comes up, the bombardment goes on, and and Mulder finds himself, against all odds, growing sleepy again. He tries to keep his eyes open, but before long, he's slumping sideways. He jerks sharply upright as his head makes contact with Scully's shoulder, but the young private gives him a wry smile and pats the spot where Mulder's head had just been resting. Mulder can almost hear his friend's voice, though Scully does not speak: It's all right, go on, I don't mind. He grins gratefully, albeit a little sheepishly, and allows his head to drop back down onto Scully's shoulder again.

He wakes again from his light doze when a soldier arrives with a sack full of hardtack biscuits for the regiment to share. As unappetizing as Mulder (and all of the men, really) finds the difficult-to-chew and often worm-infested biscuits, it's all that's available for them to eat at the moment. Mulder's stomach is so empty by now that it's starting to become painful, and so he resigns himself to sucking at the edge of a piece of hardtack until it becomes soft enough to actually eat.

Sometime around one o'clock in the afternoon, the pitch and ferocity of the noise changes suddenly. The sounds of cannons are closer now, and it seems to occur to the entire regiment at the same time that it would be wise for all of them to be ready to move at a moment's notice. He and Scully climb to their feet and gather up their discarded gear, as all around them, the other men are doing the same. Colonel Skinner approaches, buckling his saber as he walks towards them.

"Some kind of attack is coming," he tells Mulder. "It looks like the Confederates are going to try to hit the center of the line, of all places. Doubtless they're trying to weaken our defenses with heavy artillery before attacking, once they think that they've taken out some of our guns."

"The center of the line?" asks Mulder in disbelief. "That doesn't seem like something that General Lee would do." Skinner shrugs.

"That's just what I've heard," he says. "Yesterday he tried to hit us on both flanks, and our lines didn't break, so today he's going to try the center. It's possible that he thinks that our defenses are lighter there."

"Are they?" asks Scully.

"Not particularly," says Skinner. "And even if they were, they certainly won't be for very long. I've just received our orders, and as soon as the cannons go quiet, we're to make our way towards the center of the line to be held in reserve against the enemy's eventual attack." Mulder and Scully exchange worried glances.

"My men are exhausted, Sir," says Mulder. "We have next to no ammunition. How much help are we really going to be able to provide?"

"Hopefully, we won't be asked to provide any," says Skinner. "And if worst comes to worst and they do need us, I have to assume that they'll be able to provide us with more ammunition."

Mulder gathers his company together, so that when the shelling ceases and the orders come, it will take less time to get them into formation- a difficult task, given the concussive volume of the ceaseless bombardment, not to mention his men's exhaustion and skittishness. Most of them are still on edge after the brutality of yesterday's fight, and none of them have gotten anywhere near enough rest (or food, for that matter) to have overcome their weariness.

Less than half an hour later, though the shelling is still going on, Colonel Skinner appears and gives the order for what's left of the regiment to assemble and to follow him to their next position. They make their way along a road (Mulder catches sight of a sign identifying it as the Taneytown Road) northward, behind the Union line, along a ridge, through woods, and out into an open field. The little town of Gettysburg can just be glimpsed through the heavy smoke from the Union's cannons.

The regiment has very nearly reached its destination when, at last, the cannon fire suddenly ceases, and the silence left behind in its wake seems nothing short of unnatural. The men look at one another uneasily, wondering what this new development might portend, wondering what's coming next.

Skinner orders the regiment to a halt just off the tree-lined road, some two hundred yards back from the center of the Union line, where waiting troops are massed on a long, low ridge. Though no order is given to fall out, many of the men sink down to sit in the tall grass, and when Skinner makes no motion to stop any of them, Mulder follows his colonel's lead. It makes sense, he supposes, for the men to try and conserve their strength as they wait to find out whether or not they'll be needed today.

There's a sudden commotion amongst the troops waiting up on the ridge, with captains rushing back to stand with their respective companies, colonels and lieutenants both jumping up onto and leaping off of their horses, men everywhere preparing for a distant threat that Mulder cannot yet see.

A quick movement to his right catches Mulder's eye, and he turns just in time to see Private Scully pulling himself into the low-hanging branches of a tall oak tree.

"Can't see what's going on up there, not from this far back," he says, glancing down at Mulder before beginning to climb again. He continues until he's perhaps about twenty feet up, then stops. There's silence for several seconds... then, Mulder hears him swear in a low voice.

"What is it, Private?" Mulder calls up to him. "What can you see?" Still, there's silence. "Scully! What can you see from up there?"

"I haven't got the words," Scully says, his tone unreadable. Mulder glances around, but Colonel Skinner is not within sight. He turns to the nearest man, a private in his company named Fitzsimmons.

"Call me back down if the colonel approaches, or if we're ordered to move elsewhere," he tells the man, who nods. Mulder turns back to the oak tree and follows his friend up- with slightly more difficulty, and being somewhat more careful of which branches he places his weight. He is, after all, at least a good fifty pounds heavier than Scully. Most of Mulder's concentration is taken up by making his way safely up the tree, so he doesn't get the chance to look out over the field until he's level with Scully... but when he does, the breath is very nearly stolen from his body by the sight that greets him.

Below the ridge where the Union army waits, the ground slopes out to a broad, flat field, lying open for at least a mile until it fades into the woods again. Just under the eaves of those woods, with nothing but grass in between them and the waiting men in blue, Confederate soldiers are massed in numbers beyond counting, their regimental colors hoisted high, their officers leading them, some of them even on horseback, making themselves easy and obvious targets.

And across the open field, waiting for them, stand row upon row of Union cannons.

"They're all going to be slaughtered," says Mulder, his voice hushed. "They're going to be mowed down, every last one of them." A glance as Scully shows that the young private has come to the same conclusion.

"What can they possibly hope to gain by this?" Scully asks him. "Do they really think that our center is that weak, that we won't be able to repel them if they attack, without cover, from that great of a distance?" Mulder has no answers. Together, he and Scully watch in silence as rank upon rank of soldiers march slowly out and into the open air, further and further from the cover of the trees. From their vantage point, they can see a flurry of activity at the front of their own line, as soldiers load the cannons, ram the shot home, and retreat to safety behind the wheels. Mulder wants desperately to look away, but finds that he cannot, as the fuses are lit, the cannons go off, and enormous, bloody holes are blown into the Confederate lines.

And still, the men in grey keep coming.

There's a quiet, strangled sound from next to him, and Mulder turns to see tears in Scully's eyes. He reaches out, holding tighter to his branch with his other hand, and puts a comforting hand on his friend's shoulder. Scully reaches up and covers it with his own, and together, wordlessly, they watch in absolute horror as an entire division of Confederate soldiers is mercilessly destroyed. They get closer to the Union lines than Mulder could ever have imagined they would, so close that the fighting devolves into hand-to-hand combat in some places... but their defeat, in the end, is inevitable, and when the beleaguered lines of grey finally break and run, the number of men able to retreat back across the field to the cover of the trees is devastatingly small.

"That must be the end of it," Scully says, his voice broken and desperate. "Right? Mulder? There's no possible way that General Lee could try to attack again, not after that. Is there?" Mulder doesn't see how he could... but, then, he doesn't understand how a commander of Lee's brilliance could ever have ordered the sort of attack they have just witnessed, either.

"Come on," he tells Scully heavily. "Let's get back down there and find out what's going to happen next."

#X-Files Fanfic #my fiction #By the Dim and Flaring Lamps

110 notes · View notes

thisweekingundamwing · 7 years ago

Text

TWIGW: November 25 - December 2

This has been a great week in our fandom!

Please please send love to all the amazing creators. Comments are like fandom food so keep our creators inspired and well fed!

Thank you all for all your wonderful creations.

-Mod Maeve

Please don’t forget to check the warnings!

Fanfiction:

@amberlyinviolet , yourbloodlikewine

In This Light Chapter 11

Duo spent the last semester working in his older brother's coffee shop. He's resigned himself to a boring spring when a stranger appears, shaking up his entire life.Eli left home last fall, choosing to spend the last six months living out of his van on his travels from the Midwest to the East Coast. By the time he arrives at Ink's, the novelty of traveling alone has started to wear off. Still, the last thing he's expecting is to meet someone who's going to change all that for him.

Duo Maxwell/Original Male Character(s)Trowa Barton/Original Male Character(s)Solo Maxwell/Original Male Character

Rape/Non-Con, child abuse mention, Sexual Assault Mention, homophobic parents, Re-Written Characters, Drug Use, Violence, off screen murder, gratuitous author indulgence

@anaranesindanarie

Death Unspeaking Chapter 8

What happens when a Gundam Pilot is mute? What happens when the other Pilots look down at him because of it? Will he overcome the odds or will the odds overcome him? For Manny who encouraged me to work on this.

Trowa Barton/Duo Maxwell

Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage

@claraxbarton

Cocktail Friday: Sunset

Response to the Cocktail Friday prompt on Tumblr.

1x2

One Night in Spain

Years after the war, Wufei reconnects with an old acquaintance.(Is this seriously almost the same summary that I used for Kangofu-CB's birthday fic????)For an amazing, talented, generous and wonderful friend.

Chang Wufei/Duo Maxwell, Trowa Barton/Relena Peacecraft

drakanyst

g.h.o.s.t. Chapter 2

It started as some fun with equations, patching and brainstorming on an idea that had been scrapped by the gundam scientists before completion. Now, the project has taken on a life of its own. For a brief period, the five former Gundam pilots enjoy the fruits of what proves to be a powerful training platform. When the virtual reality interface is shared with a limited run of Preventers recruits, a domino effect begins that nobody is ready for. One braided adrenaline junky is caught in the middle of it, looking for answers to questions that come at a price. What is happening with the isolated program Yukio? And why do the riots and mass murders blossoming all over L3 mirror a VR instance? Is the platform emulating the life it is witnessing, vice versa.. or something else entirely?

Graphic Depictions Of Violence

TBA - Relationship

@duointherain

Not Quite Single Chapter 6

It's nearly a hundred years after the wars. Tech has kept all the boys healthy and young. While on a salvage mission, Duo recovers Steve Rogers. James Barnes has been Heero's colleague for over twenty years. There are a lot of misunderstandings. The fork in chapter two made me laugh. :)

Duo Maxwell/Heero YuyJames "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers

Graphic Depictions Of Violence

IsolaVirtuosa

Unlikely Office Romances

Dr. Heero Yuy, Preventers forensics expert, can’t seem to get over his crush on his former wartime comrade Agent Duo Maxwell. Duo can’t seem to stand the sight of him… and yet…?

Duo Maxwell/Heero Yuy

@kangofu-cb

Don't You Know

Cop!Duo meets SpecialAgent!Wufei in this fluffy rom-com.

Chang Wufei/Duo Maxwell

lil_1337

Gundam Wing Month - 2017

A collection of drabbles and short fics posted one a day for the month of November in celebration of Gundam Wing Month.

Trowa Barton/Quatre Raberba Winner, Chang Wufei/Relena Peacecraft, Duo Maxwell/Heero Yuy

luvsanime02

How Far to Fall

Trowa surprises Relena with a picnic. Written for the December 1st Cocktail Party prompt

Trowa Barton/Relena Peacecraft

Tangled Web of Natural Oddities Chapter 10

Unnatural NovemberSummaryOne town, and a whole tangled web of supernatural beings. It's not surprising that people come to expect the unexpected there.

Alternate Universe - Supernatural ElementsLanguageHumorVampiresShapeshiftingGhostsMythical Beings & CreaturesWerewolves

Duo Maxwell/Heero Yuy, Trowa Barton/Relena Peacecraft, Dorothy Catalonia/Lady Une, Catherine Bloom/Hilde Schbeiker, Chang Wufei/Long Meilan/Sally Po, Zechs Merquise/Lucrezia Noin

Hot Toddies and Cold Nights

Trowa's making some toddies, and knows that he won't be alone for long. Cocktail Friday

Engage Chapter 6

The time has come for all of their plans to finally start being put into motion.This is the eighth story in Navigation, a fem!Heero series.

Canon-Typical Violence, Minor Character Death

Maldoror_Chant

Freeport Chapter 13

Freeport colony: a notorious den of pirates, smugglers and thieves. Wufei persuades one of its denizens, his one-time ally Duo, to help him catch a killer hiding there. Agent Chang thinks he knows what to expect from this case, from Freeport and from Duo Maxwell. He couldn't be more wrong.

socio-politics with violence and hot guys, Blood and Violence, no EW, Slow Burn

Chang Wufei/Duo Maxwell

The Source of All Things Chapter 13

Center, a planet where magic and technology blend. Or more accurately, fight tooth and nail. A planet of Sources, holes in our boring dimension letting through arcane power, chaos and pseudo-deities. In this hot-house of myths and very real dangers, Trowa and Quatre find a mysterious man at the end of a shamanic voyage. Portents suggest this Heero Yuy is crucial to Center’s survival. He’s important enough to have some interesting enemies after him, at any rate: a devious killer and thief called ‘Shinigami’, and a very irate Dragon. Beyond them looms an even greater threat. Indeed, the greatest of them all.(Alternative Universe, far-flung future sci-fi/fantasy. There are elements from the anime that exist here, albeit in very different forms; Gundam mechas, Zero, and lovely G-boys for instance. They are perhaps a universal constant we are not yet aware of. This fic was original started over a decade ago. It has been heavily rewritten and should now be eventually finished)

3x4, 2x5, 1x2x5

Graphic Depictions Of Violence

The Manwell (Manniness)

Tomb Raiders Chapter 28

Trowa Barton was an orphan raised by South African mercenaries. Duo Maxwell was the son of a British lord. Not only were these two teenage boys destined to fall in love, but they were destined to save the world. Tomb raider style.AU 2x3x2 YAOI Duo/TrowaWarnings: Alternate universe fic, language, shounen ai, yaoi (male/male sex), angst, character death, reference to torturePromises: No non-consensual or underage sex!! None of the pilots will die!! Cross my heart...Notes: Very, very loosely based on the movie “Lara Croft: Tomb Raider” and, just like in the movie, no actual tombs are raided in this story. Heh. (^_~)v

Trowa Barton/Duo Maxwell

@ransomedbard

Arbiter Chapter 2

After an accident in space, Duo learns that he cannot permanently die - but every resurrection comes at a terrible cost for those around him. As he learns the extent of his powers, he struggles with the temptation to misuse them, and to find meaning in his devastating ‘gift’. His secret drives him away from the other pilots, even as he comes to realize his own loneliness and need for their friendship.

Resurrection, Suicidal Thoughts, Violence of the bullets and blood variety

Shinohoshi13

By Demons Be Driven Chapter 2

For years she struggled to live, burdened by a long-forgotten past, an unclear present, and a non-existent future. War consumes her life, forcing her to live as if every day is her last. Fate has seen fit to gift her with unnatural abilities far beyond the normal human capacity. With those abilities, she leads a daily game of tag, putting her life on the line over and over again. Will a chance meeting with a young man give this tired young woman the will to keep fighting? And with the war escalating higher and higher, will she have the time to find out who, and what, she really is?

OCx05; slight implied 01x02, 03x04, 06x13; one-sided Rx01

Relena bashing, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Adult Content, Crude Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Strong Language, Torture, Violence, Psychological Horror, Magical Realism

StarLove18

Cuddle

Sometimes, what we fight for can bring peace. Peace also has a way of creating stress.

Trowa Barton & Chang Wufei & Duo Maxwell & Quatre Raberba Winner & Heero Yuy

Implied/Referenced Drug Use, My First Work in This Fandom

@vegalume

Collide - the teaser

This is the first in a series of small ficlets that will lead up to the full story.The ficlets take place on an alternate timeline that parallels some of the most important events of the series, beginning shortly after Heero is first sent to Earth. They focus on the relationship between Treize and Heero.Tags for the entire 'Collide' Series. See the notes for warnings specific to that part.

Treize Khushrenada/Heero Yuy

Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage, Alternate Timeline, possible parallel universe?, Angst, Death, Blood, Suicide Attempts, Romance, Eventual Smut, Humor

Collide - the first ficlet

This is the second in a series of small ficlets that will lead up to the full story.The ficlets take place on an alternate timeline that parallels some of the most important events of the series, beginning shortly after Heero is first sent to Earth. They focus on the relationship between Treize and Heero. The ficlets may appear disjointed (which is why they're not part of the main story). Tags for the entire 'Collide' Series. See the notes for warnings specific to that part.

Collide - The Second Ficlet

This is the third in a series of small ficlets that will lead up to the full story.The ficlets take place on an alternate timeline that parallels some of the most important events of the series, beginning shortly after Heero is first sent to Earth. They focus on the relationship between Treize and Heero. Tags for the entire 'Collide' Series. See the notes for warnings specific to that part.

Collide - The Third Ficlet

This is the fourth in a series of small ficlets that will lead up to the full story.The ficlets take place on an alternate timeline that parallels some of the most important events of the series, beginning shortly after Heero is first sent to Earth. They focus on the relationship between Treize and Heero. The ficlets may appear disjointed (which is why they're not part of the main story). Tags for the entire 'Collide' Series. See the notes for warnings specific to that part.

Whenpigsfly84

Doormat Babe Chapter 5

A mysterious child is left with Duo one morning. As he seeks for answers he'll have to face his past and prepare for a haunting future he'd never expected. Will he be able to reconnect with old friends or will he lose all those he loves?

Duo Maxwell/Heero Yuy, Chang Wufei/Duo Maxwell/Heero Yuy, Trowa Barton/Quatre Raberba Winner

Drama, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Character Death, Swearing, Summary

xX_Rabble_Rouser_Xx

Birthday From Hell

It's not that Duo Maxwell is INCAPABLE of celebrating a birthday like a reasonable person, he just REFUSES to celebrate Heero Yuy’s birthday normally.

Humor, Pranks, Birthdays, with friends like this who needs enemies??

Snippets:

@anaranesindanarie

1x2x6 OR 2x6 “liar” Prompt Response

@claraxbarton

WIP Screenshot

@lifeaftermeteor

LAM!verse NYC Branch Office, New York, New York, 30 November 207

@remsyk-blog

Cocktail Friday- Grounded

@treizes-heero

Moving in Prompt

@vegalume

Title: Collide

Pairing: Treize x Heero

Working title: STAR

Main pairing Duo x Heero - additional pairings 2xoc, 3x4 & 5xR

@weiclown

WIP sentence

Headcanons / Meta / Discussions:

@lelola

GW Logic

Wufei’s Response to Treize

Cell Animation in GW

Lady Une’s Portrayal

Duo Maxwell Reaction Scene Question

Heero and Quatre Zero System scene

Trowa and the Zero System

Wing Zero Reaction

Zechs and Relena Reuniting

Relena’s Pep Talk

@lifeaftermeteor

What Duo Smells Like

@fadedsepia

Episode 5

@outofworkshinigami

Treize’s worries about his personality change . . .

(Warning: Abuse mentions) How Treize and Vingt were abused

Fanart / Screencaps / Images:

@ashley-kuo

Rx1 Married Sims Screenshots

@bassrocks

Duo Maxwell drawing

@comics-and-things

Zech Merquise image compilation

@downwarddnaspiral

Zechs for @chronicwhimsy‘s birthday

@duointherain

Quatre Giving Wufei a Christma Gift

@hainekoken

Relena Peacecraft

@innergeekdesigns

Gundam T-shirt designs

@kangofu-cb

Heero Yuy

Duo Maxwell

Trowa Barton

Modern Quatre

Prevent Agent Chang Wufei

Officer Hilde Schbeiker

@lelola

Duo’s Expression Screencap

@lifeaftermeteor

Christmas Tree Topper Image

@musinglink

Gundam Wing Cover Art

@noelleian

Trowa and Quatre after their brush with Zero

Lady Une (apologies as this was accidentally misattributed initially!)

@outofworkshinigami

Sanc Treize

Commission for @cylinanightshade (NSFW, Quatre, Heero,Trowa)

@some--newtype--bullshit

Headshot Club

@the-cats-curse

Gundam Deathscythe

@thereasonsimbroke

Gundam Battle Damage

@vegalume

1x13 sketch

Heero, Trowa, Quatre WIP Embroidery

Invader Zim Quotes Set

Invader Zim Quotes 12

Invader Zim Quotes 11

Invader Zim Quotes 10

Invader Zim Quotes 9

Invader Zim Quotes 8

Invader Zim Quotes 7

Invader Zim Quotes 6

@yesacias-sketchbook

Relena WIP

@zer0-system

Mpreg Duo

Heero Doodle

Heero Lineart

Mpreg Duo

Gundam Wing Haul image

Heero Yuy Line Art

Heero, Trowa, Duo Sketch

Quotes:

@helmistress

Relena Darlian, Ep 14

Calendar Events:

Unnatural November by @gwblockparty

Ending November 30th

A fanworks celebration of all things weird and supernatural.

Participation information here!

AO3 collection here!

Eve War Event by @gw-evewar

Posting December 23rd - December 24th.

A fanworks Science Fiction event.

Participation information here!

Cocktail Friday by @thisweekingundamevents

Prompts post every Monday, submissions to be posted the following Friday from 3-5pm EST

Fun, open participation

Fics, ficlets, art, anything at all welcome!

Gundam Wing Secret Santa Exchange by @gwsecretsantaexchange

All assignments are out!

Remember to keep your recipient a secret!

Gifts should be posted and tagged December 20th - 24th

If you need to drop out for any reason (life happens!) please let the Secret Santa blog know as soon as possible!

Thank you all for a wonderful week!

#thisweekingundamwing

33 notes · View notes

anavoliselenu · 5 years ago

Text

freedom chapter 9

JUSTIN POV

"You can't separate peace from freedom because no one can be at peace unless he has his freedom."- Malcolm X

I took one pill…then another… then another… then another.

I readjusted my glass on my nose and read the fucking label on the container. It would probably be best if I knew what the fuck I was ingesting. Valium. Well, praise Jesus for it. I don't know if I would even be able to make it another year without the stuff. Living my life was stressful only made more so by my headstrong, stubborn, uncontrollable, incredibly gorgeous wife.

My car was gone. Not just any car, but the car. The one I polished in my free time, if I ever had any. The one I hadn't even turned on since buying it for fear that the engine might get overheated. The one that I stared at every morning, wishing I could drive it to work, but knew I couldn't. My Bugatti only was it stolen from my garage, but it was done out of spite.

She wanted me to hear the engine roaring out of the driveway and she wanted me to get angry about it.

I began reading the pill bottle, "Side effects include:Drowsiness, muscle weakness, tiredness… New or worsening mental or mood changes, confusion, difficulty breathing, fainting, fever, chills, or persistent sore throat, hallucinations..."

The list went on forever. I would gladly accept it all, though, if I could just have five fucking minutes of peace.

Alec poked his head into my office. "You brought this on yourself."

"Get out." I rubbed my forehead.

"She took your damn car because you're treating her like an invalid." He disobeyed me and sauntered in, chomping on some chips. Crumbs were sprinkling everywhere, but our wonderful dog began lapping them up in his wake.

"Get out!" I roared and then quickly worked to calm myself down before continuing. "Please, just leave me alone."

"You can't expect to disable Selena's car and just sit back while she gets driven around everywhere. She's tougher than that."

"I thought you were going to the grocery store with her," I growled. "Why can't you just go by yourself? She's not your maid."

"Uh, as I recall, I was banned from shopping for food."

"You brought twenty frozen pizzas. Why in the hell would you buy twenty frozen pizzas?" I recalled the last grocery store debacle. "We didn't even have enough room for them all."

He shrugged, taking a seat. "I was hungry. When do you think she'll get back?"

"When she's done shopping." I slammed my fist down, "I'm getting a housekeeper. We should have someone who does all of this medial shit. Why is Selena going to the store this late? It's not rational."

"She likes being independent."

"I don't care. I refuse to let her…"

"Stop right there." Alec raised his hand. "If you use that type of language, she'll kill us both. Selena doesn't want a housekeeper. She likes to clean and cook all by herself. It makes her feel useful."

"She'll have to deal." I picked up another bottle of pills and took two, not bothering to read the labels on this one. I just knew it made me feel better.

"Well, you have to admit, the Bugatti is one hell of a car. And you don't drive it, so why can't she?"

"Because it's a racing car. She doesn't need to be in anything that fast in her condition."

"She's not a doll, you know."

"Everyone keeps saying that," I replied, sighing through my nose. "I just want her to be safe, and it seems like everything I try to do is just making her madder."

"Because you don't talk to her. You just assume Selena will go along with everything. Wrong! She's a grown woman, in case you didn't know. Try explaining it to her. I guarantee you it will work better for your health."

"Shut up and get out of my office." I took my glasses off, flinging them on the table in front of me.

"Alright, alright…" He stood, taking his fucking chips with him, and exited.

Francis stayed behind and hoped up on the chair opposite me. Normally, I would scold him for being on the furniture. I couldn't bring myself to care right now. Maybe these mood stabilizers actually did work.

"Don't look at me like that." I scrubbed my face with my palms. "She's going to give me gray hairs. I know it's just a car, but it's more than that. She fights me on everything when I'm just trying to protect her."

Francis tilted his head, his tiny ears perking up.

"This is all your fault," I told him. "You should have told me she was leaving without Alec. I wouldn't have allowed…" I stopped myself before I started sounding like the father of a sixteen year old girl.

I let myself relax and sunk into my plush office chair. My body felt incredibly heavy.

Of course, I had to have something to interrupt me.

The phone on my desk jolted me awake. I groaned and picked up.

"What?" I didn't bother with pleasantries. If it was Esme on the other end, I was fucked.

"Uh, Boss. This is Danny."

"Who?"

"Danny. Mrs. Bieber's bodyguard."

"Oh, what are you doing calling me?" I sat up straighter.

"We have a situation."

"A situation?"

"Yes, sir."

There was silence for a couple of seconds. "Are you stupid? Talk!" I commanded.

"Oh, right, sir. Um, Mrs. Bieber was caught in a rather…sticky predicament."

"You're speaking in riddles and my patience is dangerously low. Is she hurt? Did she crash the car? Did she have a fucking heart attack?"

"No, sir. We're here at the market down the street and there's been what seems like a robbery. There are men inside with guns. They are holding the people hostage."

I stood up so fast, my chair toppled over. "Tell me she's not in there."

"Uh, yes, sir, she is."

"Fucking…" I ran a hand through my hair and pulled. "Why weren't you in there with her?"

"You told us to keep a distance…"

"No, I told you to protect her," I seethed. "That's what's wrong with you people. Paid-for-hire is never the way to go when dealing with security. Take you team and go home; you're all fired."

"But, sir-"

"You're lucky I'm not going to kill you. But if she has one hair on her head harmed, you better run for your motherfucking life." I slammed the phone down, startling Francis.

I turned and punched the first thing in reach, which happened to be a window. It didn't break, but a crack ran up the pane, splintering off in different directions. I had too much medication in me to feel my hand, but heard the pop of my knuckles upon contact.

That can't be good…

I didn't have time to dwell on my anger and rushed into the bedroom. I pulled on anything I could find, not caring if it stunk or if it was dirty. I was moving too quickly to let my OCD take over.

Suddenly, all thoughts of my sports car were lost. Fuck the Buggatti. Was Selena alright? Had they hurt her? Was this some random robbery? Was she keeping her head down and eyes open? Was she using the skills I had taught her to stay alive? Was the baby okay?

I jumped the stairs three at a time and slid on the hardwood floor in the hallway, trying to grab my keys from the table.

"Uh, Justin…" Alec called. "You might want to get in here and see this."

I went into the family room where he had the TV on.

The scene made me even more anxious. Police cars were everywhere, people were being pushed behind offensive 'Caution' tape, and a slew of cops were positioned in front of the grocery store. The woman who was reporting might as well have been just standing there, because I couldn't hear. Her words meant nothing to me.

"I think Selena might be in trouble." Alec's mouth hung open as he watched.

I pulled out my phone and called her number. Three times I called, and she didn't pick up—just like she hadn't been doing all night. At first, I thought it was because she was ignoring me. Now I feared it was something more.

I snapped back to reality and dashed for the door. My younger brother was there to block my path.

"Get out of my way." I was so angry that my hands were shaking.

"I can't let you go down there, Justin. This is a job for the police."

"Move your ass," I snarled. "Now!"

"You could get someone hurt. I know you're just going to barge in and take control. You can't do that. You need to stay here and let the cops handle this."

I moved close to him. "If you don't get out of my way, I'll kill you."

"I'm trying to save you…" His eyes held a little bit of fear from my threat, but not much.

I lifted my knee up and struck him right between the legs. He let out a yelp of pain and a groan of uneasiness. He fell into me while I cradled him down to the ground.

"I know that was a bitch move, but I warned you," I said in his ear. "I don't care who you are, come between me and my wife again, and I'll make good on that promise to kill you."

I left him on the floor, whimpering, while I ran to the garage. I chose the thing closest to the front, which happened to be a white Mercedes. I didn't remember buying it, but got in anyway. I sped out of the driveway and down the street, hitting two of my neighbor's mailboxes on the way.

My hands were glued to the steering while and my knuckles started turning white. My teeth were pulling at my bottom lip—a habit I had picked up from Selena.

"Why didn't you just stay home tonight?"

A thousand scenarios were going through my head, but I tried not to let them get the better of me. I needed to know what the hell was going on, and I wouldn't get that information by blowing up at the cops. One thing was for certain, though;: I was pissed beyond belief. Not at Selena, but whoever the hell it was who had her in danger.

By the time I screeched to a halt in front of the store, I felt like I had been driving for hours. The adrenaline rushing through my veins was enough to keep me awake for days.

The scene was just as it was on TV, but so much more alarming. Red and blue lights flashed everywhere. Police cars and ambulances were placed, not only in the parking lot, but up and down the streets as well. People were crowded around, talking, whispering.

The yellow tape that blocked everything off was a complete nuisance to me, but easy to rip out of the way.

"Sir, you need to get back." A young deputy ran in front of me, his hands raised.

"If you value your life, you'll step away from me," I said lowly. My voice was raspy with authority, laced with a hint of deadly rage.

"All civilians must be behind the barricades, sir." He pushed my chest.

I took his wrist and flipped it behind me, pulling it halfway up his back. I saw a lot of commotion out of the corner of my eye. Police officers being being shouted at me.

I pulled on his wrist more, making him squirm under my grasp. "I need to get to my wife. Who's in charge here?" I asked him.

"Behind the yellow tape, sir,"he ground out through his clenched teeth.

"Justin, let him go." I heard a familiar voice. "I'll have you arrested right here if I have to."

I pushed the deputy on the ground and raised my head, only slightly surprised by the man in my eye line.

"Embry Call. What the hell are you doing here?" I stepped over the pathetic excuse for a cop, who I had just disarmed.

"I work Hostage now," he said, almost proudly.

This was the man who was working under Jacob Black during my entire investigation. He had visited Selena in jail to inform her of my death. I knew this because she told me how much she hated him. He held her while she cried.

I should say something like 'thank you' right now, but I didn't have time to bring up the past.

"You were demoted?" I raised an eyebrow.

"If you must know, yes. That fucking stunt you pulled four years ago didn't go well for some of us." He snapped his mouth shut.

The officers had lowered their weapons, but were still standing there like they didn't have anything better to do.

Embry looked the same. Still .Your run-of-the mill officer with too much time on his hands and not enough important cases to actually make a difference in the world. Probably what Selena's father looked like thirty years ago.

"It seemed to do great things for your boss, Mr. Black. He's working for the Pentagon now." I shrugged. "I thought you were in on the plan to take an innocent woman to jail and try to force things out of her."

"I was never working with Jacob and you know it." He stood up to me. "He was a dirty cop. I always liked Selena. She had to be strong to put up with your ass for so long."

"You don't have the right to speak her name." I got closer to him, our noses almost touching. He was just about as tall as me. I never noticed that before.

"You think you have everyone fooled, don't you? Coming back here like some God and making a big splash," Embry scoffed. "You're still the same murderer you were when I was tracking you."

"So why don't you arrest me?" I goaded him. He didn't answer me. "Exactly."

"How did you get back here anyway? Are you on parole or something? Were all your charges dropped?"

"That's information known only between me and a highly official district attorney. I'm not sure they share that kind of stuff with…hostage negotiators." I looked Embry up and down, a clear indication of my disgust of him.

"I almost had you." He shook his head. "But you…slipped away. You always do."

"You didn't catch me because you're weak. I made it easy for you and Black."

"Then why did you run away?"

Get Selena. Forget this fucker!

"That's a different story for a different day. For when I actually have time for you and your dirty cop rule book."

"I play by the rules."

"What do they say about a situation like this?" I looked around the parking lot, filling with more people and more cars.

"They say…we wait." His eyes didn't falter or shift. He was serious.

I pushed him out of my way, walking closer to the police car line up that was placed about two hundred feet from the entrance of the store. The officers followed, yelling orders.

"Justin Bieber, you have no jurisdiction here. You're not even a cop." He spun me around. I calmed my anger from his touch. It wouldn't be advantageous for me to get arrested right now.

"My wife is in there." I pointed behind me. "I demand to know what you're going to do about it."

For the first time, I saw him show his emotions. His eyes widened and he stumbled. "Selena's in there?"

"Yes, and she's being held hostage. I know nothing and need answers."

"You need to go home, Justin. I can't help her if you're here."

"Bullshit. My child is in danger."

"You have a child?" he almost shouted. "What the hell?"

"Well…no. Not yet," I stuttered. "She's pregnant."

"Oh, well, congratulations." Embry nodded.

"Thanks." I stuffed my hands in my pockets.

We stood around like awkward, ex-best friends, meeting each other for the first time since graduation. It was stifling, and a horribly forced tolerance swirled around us. He didn't like me; I didn't like him. We both knew that.

"Are you going to get her or should I?" I tapped my shoe impatiently.

"Boss, do you want us to escort him away?" Another deputy came up behind me. I almost wrung his neck for being so close.

Embry looked at me with squinted eyes, sizing me up. "Can you keep your cool and let me do my job?"

"I'll give you one fucking hour." I held a finger up. "Then I'm handling it."

"He can stay," Embry told his men.

I stuck close to him since he seemed to know what he was doing. Embry was very confident and clear with his demands. He told everyone what needed to happen and when. I was begrudgingly impressed.

Selena was in there. I saw my Buggatti on the far side of the parking lot. I didn't give a fuck about it anymore. I was tempted to burn the thing just to see if God would accept my sacrifice and send Selena out to me.

I paced behind Embry as he and the other officers went over floor plans of the grocery store.

"There are only two ways in," someone said, hunched over the police car hood where the papers were scattered. "The loading dock in the back and the front entrance."

"There are snipers on the roof and the two buildings across the street as well," someone else muttered. "We've got the place covered, so no one's getting out."

Embry exhaled, "I don't like these odds."

That made me stop. Everyone took notice and ceased their talking, so I began pacing again.

"I need video surveillance from inside. Where is my video feed?" Embry shouted.

"It's coming!" a tech guy said. "Give us five minutes."

"How many people are inside?" I asked no one in particular.

"We're not sure."

"How many robbers are there?"

"We're not sure."

"How long have they been in there?"

"An hour, maybe more. We're not sure."

"What do you know?" I crashed my fist down on the car. I was rewarded with a low throb, pulsing throughout my hand. A couple cops jumped and had hands on their guns, but easedback.

"Justin, stop it." Embry pulled me away from the group. "You're not helping anyone."

"I need her back now. I'm starting to go crazy." I rubbed my palms on my pants. They had been sweating for too long.

"I'm doing the best I can and I promise to get her out first," he whispered. "Just give me time. All hostage takers want to be heard. Once they call, I'll know what they need specifically."

I felt like I was going to throw up as the minutes passed.

Emmett and Jasper arrived half an hour later. They paced along with me, but tried to say everything was going to be all right. I was tired of hearing that. My brothers were far more rational than I was. They kept telling me to trust the police.

What the fuck?

Since when do we trust police? Let alone, the one who used to visit my wife in jail when she was locked up. I don't think so. But I didn't do anything. I cooled my nerves because I was in the perfect place for information. Embry talked to me every couple of minutes and gave me updates.

"We have a video feed." One of the tech officers brought over a crude-looking laptop, which played a black and white scene. He set it on the hood of the cop car. I pushed my way into the circle.

"Where's Selena?" I asked.

Emrby rolled his eyes. "There are other people we need to be worried about as well."

"I don't fucking care," I said harshly. "Can you see her?"

"Justin, please just shut up!"

"Don't you ever talk to me that way!"

I felt a hand on my shoulder, reminding me to be tranquil. Emmett had suddenly become the voice of reason. I grumbled, but didn't say anything more.

The picture changed every couple of seconds. The feed was from several different cameras around the store, placed at a variety of locations. Each time, my heart sped up, seeking her out.

"There." Embry pointed to the corner of the laptop. I saw Selena's dark hair first and her small face appeared next. She looked so fragile, curled into a corner, by herself. Then the picture changed.

"No!" I shouted. "Bring it back."

"I can't do that." The tech guy shrugged. "It's rotating on its own."

I grabbed him by the collar and raised my throbbing fist. Embry pulled me off of him before I could strike. "At least we know she's safe and no one's hurt."

He dragged me to the side. "I have to go find her."

"No, stay here and let me do my job," he said with finality.

I waited.

Fifteen minutes later, the commissioner showed up with the fire department and more cops. Sixteen minutes later, more television stations set up shop around the store. They all chattered about the robbery and wanted to assure the public that everything was being taken care of.

Like hell it was…

Eighteen minutes later, the bomb squad showed up. That's when I almost lost it. You only called them if you suspected an explosive. I did throw up after that. I stay hunched over a bush and expelled the contents of my stomach until I couldn't breathe. My nerves were just too much.

"We're going to get her," Embry guaranteed me.

"I hope for your sake, you're right. If not, I'll just kill everyone here," I said nonchalantly. He knew I meant it.

"How does Selena get involved in all these things?" He chuckled, a light-hearted attempt to lift the mood.

I didn't answer him and walked away.

I went unnoticed by the cops who were shuffling around, trying to look like they were doing something. I stayed out of there way for the most part.

From the video feed, more answers came. There were four robbers. They wore masks at first, but pulled them off as the time passed. Embry informed me that this was indeed a random hostage situation. The group was a bunch of rowdy guys who had held up large stores like this all over the state. They hadn't been caught yet. What made me more anxious was the fact that two of them were ex-military. They had names and faces, but I didn't care. All their blood would be the same once I was through with them.

Twenty minutes later, finally, something happened.

"Boss, we have a phone call!" someone from a truck shouted.

There was a lot of movement and people started to pull on headsets. I ran over to Embry, almost knocking him down.

He held a phone in his hand and put it against his ear. I leaned in so I could hear.

"This is Embry Call. I'm in charge of this situation."

I rolled my eyes at his fake masculine authority.

"I need to speak with the commissioner." The voice was cold.

Everyone was listening. The commissioner shook his head.

"He's not here," Embry replied. "It's just me and my team."

"Alright, then. I have some demands."

"Name them."

"Five million dollars in cash and a plane at the airport, ready for us in an hour."

"I can't do that. Who am I talking to?" Embry asked.

"That's none of your concern. Give me what I want or someone will die every ten minutes. You have until midnight."

"We can't give you any of that. We don't have the resources."

"You have until midnight." The voice repeated.

Tired of the game, I snatched the phone from Embry. "Listen to me, you little shit. I don't care who you are…"

I didn't get to finish my sentence.

"We'll call you back in five." Embry ended the call. "What the hell was that?"

"I had my own demands," I grunted.

"You could have endangered them in there." He was livid and his face was turning an odd shade of purple. "This is my job. We do as I say."

"If you would do your job, then I would have my wife with me."

"Maybe you should keep a tighter hold on her then…" he snapped.

I let my fist fly and punched him in the mouth. I was so angry, I almost didn't feel it. Almost. He had sharp teeth that dug into my skin, so it hurt like hell, but was worth it.

I was pulled away and smashed against the police car. "You're under arrest for assaulting a police officer…"

"No!" Embry shouted. "Let him go."

The pressure on my arms was let up. I shook them off.

"Bieber, that was your last chance. Let me handle this." He pointed at me, wiping the blood from his lip. He didn't seem fazed at all. My knuckles had gashes on them, but I didn't want to wrap them up.

So I was standing outside of a grocery store that was being held up by gunmen with my wife inside. Both hands had some form of injury to them and my stomach was in knots. Tonight was not a good night.

I checked my watch as the minutes slid by. The commissioner was not happy and started yelling at everyone to move fast or "be diligent about the citizens' lives". I didn't see his attitude getting much done. Embry was more docile in his approach, but nothing was working.

Just as the robbers promised, ten minutes later, there was a single gunshot. It echoed through the parking lot like a canon and made everyone duck for cover. We crouched behind cars and ran behind trees. When it was safe, everyone started to reemerge.

"What was that?" I asked Embry, already knowing the answer.

"I don't think they're playing around." His voice was shaky.

The video hadn't shown who was shot or if anyone was injured, so I didn't know if Selena was all right.

The phone rang again. People started to hastily move so they could hear it from their headsets and speakerphones.

Embry picked up. I didn't bother moving away from him.

He didn't speak, just listened and nodded his head before hanging up a couple of seconds later.

"They want ten million now," he told me.

"Then pay them and get them the fucking plane," I said angrily.

"We don't have those resources. We have to negotiate with them."

"I'll give to them. I don't care!"

"No. We can't give in to their demands. Then they win."

"Or someone dies?"

He didn't answer me.

I spun around on my heel and took off towards the oppositeend of the parking lot. Emmett and Jasper were leaning against the big Hummer that they brought.

"Move," I commanded. "I'm doing this myself."

I opened the trunk and lifted the carpet. Underneath was a storage compartment that always stayed concealed. Inside was the stash of weaponry.

I pulled out a bulletproof Kevlar vest and strapped it to my chest.

"You can't do this, Justin," Emmett protested.

"Don't tell me what I can't do." I harshly started to test the chambers of guns, peeking inside to see if they were all loaded. "If this was Rosalie, you would have already been inside."

"There are people in there that might get hurt. You have to wait," Jasper said.

"Selena's in there. Are you just going to let her sit? That's your sorella. Family first, brother. You're either with me or not. I don't need you two."

They didn't think about it for a second before strapping on vests of their own.

"I just want to go on record as stating that this is going to get us all killed." Emmett shook his head.

"Your comment has been added to the 'I don't give a fuck' pile," I muttered. "Give me five minutes to get Selena out then you guys can come in and do the rest."

"Shoot low," Jasper whispered. "We can't afford to hit anyone and we don't want to kill these robbers."

"I want to kill them," I argued.

"No, Justin. Just focus on getting Selena to safety." Emmett clapped my shoulder. "You've got five minutes before we head in, guns a-blazin'."

"Gotcha."

The gun in my hand was a M16A2 Rifle. It was sturdy and menacing. The accuracy was almost perfect, and it was easy to carry. The strap sat across my chest and the cartridge was full. I was ready to do some damage.

I walked calmly up towards the grocery store. I seemed to go unnoticed until I hit the police blockade. Then there was movement.

"Drop your weapon!"

"Put the gun on the ground, hands behind your head!"

"You have five seconds to give it up!"

I just stood there, my patience running thinner.

"Justin, what the fuck do you think you're doing?" Embry stalked up to me with anger in his face.

"Going to get my wife."

His mouth opened and closed a couple of times as he took in my appearance. "Where did you get a gun like that?"

"I'm not dignifying that with a response. I know you read the paper. I'm about to take over the largest weapons manufacturing plant in the world. If I want guns, I get guns. No, this doesn't have a permit. You can lock me up when I'm finished."

I moved passed him, getting closer to the entrance. He followed. "Justin, I can't let you do this. You're a civilian."

"I don't care. I have more experience than half your squad. You're all worthless. I'm going to stop paying my taxes because it's obviously not doing any good in training you fools."

"Since when do you pay taxes?"

"Hypothetically."

The grocery store was very close. I was almost there.

"Stop him!" I heard the commissioner yell.

The snipers on the roof pointed their guns at my body; I just kept walking.

"Stop him!"

"If you're going to shoot me, do it now." I stopped, waiting.

Embry didn't make the call, so I kept going.

"Justin, no."

"Get out of my way, Embry. I don't have time for this."

Fifty feet…

"Think about Selena. She might get hurt."

"She'll definitely get hurt if I leave it to you idiots."

Thirty feet…

"I'm going to have you arrested," he sputtered.

"Do it now or shut up."

Twenty feet…

"I'll have my men take you down."

"Yeah, right," I scoffed. "You don't have the balls. Oh, and if you hear gunshots, don't be alarmed. They're probably from me."

Ten feet…

I gave him one last chance to do something, but I knew he wouldn't. Like Embry said, he plays by the rules. I had shaken him up too much. He didn't know how to handle this situation. He would probably end up getting demoted, yet again, because of me. He would be lucky to be a desk clerk after this.

"Pussy!" I shouted on my way into the store. The sliding glass doors took their sweet time opening up.

It was eerily quiet. The soft, tingling music playing above created an atmosphere that didn't seem real. I felt like I had stepped into a grocery store from The Stepford Wives. Everything appeared perfect up front, but I knew dangers lurked in the back.

The good thing about stores like this was that they had mirrors in almost every crook of the store to prevent theft. There were big circular ones in the corners, small rectangular ones on the ceilings, long thin ones on the walls. They were everywhere. I could see everything.

I pinpointed my targets in the mirrors and made sure that they were far away from the last place I had seen Selena on the monitors outside. They were perusing the aisles with their guns drawn, scaring the hell out of anyone they walked passed. It looked like the hostages were being huddled into groups around the store. Made way to keep track of everyone.

I just stood there for a couple of seconds, surveying the area. Then I realized that I didn't have time for all this shit. I had to get in and get out. It would take far longer for me to seek them out. Why not bring my targets to me?

I went to the first cash register I saw and flipped the switch under the counter for the microphone.

I cleared my throat. "This is Justin Bieber. I'm not from any police department and I don't care to arrest anyone. I just need my wife."

I started to hear commotion.

"If you shoot me, I'll shoot back and be damned sure, I won't miss unless I want to," I warned. "Is there an Selena Bieber here?"

There wasn't a reply.

"Selena, I know you're somewhere. Please don't make me hunt you down. I'm in no mood for this tonight."

"I'm here, Justin!" she yelled, somewhere in the fruit section.

"Ah, well, I shall be over in a second," I said.

She was smart. By announcing herself, she just became valuable. Obviously, I was someone with the macabre attitude to put myself in danger for her. To them, she must be something special now.

"Hey, stop where you are!" a gunman shouted at me from the left. "Who are you?"

"Didn't you hear? I'm Justin Bieber and I'm here to get my wife."

We were standing in the front of the store, just staring each other down. My gun wasn't even raised. His face wasn't covered, and I could see that he wasn't much younger than me, but looked like a kid with his disheveled sandy hair and wide eyes.

"You're not supposed to be here," he said. "Take another step and I'll shoot."

"From your posture, I can tell that that you're a novice gun handler." I spoke coolly. "Have you ever shot a gun before, boy?"

He took his eyes off of me for one second and that's all I needed. Instead of wasting bullets, I decided to be more practical.

There was a nice display of vodka next to me with the bottles stacked up into a pyramid shape. I felt for whoever put it together. I started to pull the glass bottles down and just threw them in his direction.

He got hit a couple of times in the head and by the fifth bottle, the smell of alcohol was in my nose. His hold on the gun wasn't firm and his trigger finger slipped. Bullets started flying into the ceiling. I ducked and began crawling on the floor towards him. He wasn't even paying attention.

I tackled him to the ground and grabbed him by the neck. His clothes were soaked in spilled vodka. I slammed his head to the floor, placing my knee on his neck. "You made a big mistake."

He couldn't respond and started to choke something out.

You don't have time for this…

I took one last glass bottle and bashed it over his head. He limped to the side and blood started to pour from under his hair. I didn't think he was dead, but if he was, so be it.

I got off of the ground, gun in hand. I was now even more furious.

The store was bigger than I remember, and I had to slink behind corners and aisles to check if anyone was coming. I didn't hear or see anything, but that just made me more suspicious. Where had they gone?

The first group of people I came across was a mixture of about ten. They were all different ages and races, but looked scared out of their minds. They took in my gun and some started to cry.

"No, I'm not bad," I shushed them. "I'm here to get my wife. Where is the fruit area?"

None of them answered.

"Fruit, like oranges, pears, lemons and all that shit," I clarified.

Nothing.

"Is it to the right?" I asked a worker with an apron. He looked sick.

He didn't say anything.

"Selena always says that I don't always get to the healthy food because I stop at the snack aisle." I chuckled at the memory."So to the right or left?"

He pointed to the left with a shaky finger.

I nodded my thanks and began walking, crouched low to the ground. By the time I reached the frozen foods, I was over it all. I just wanted Selena home with me. I almost couldn't remember earlier in the night when we were just lying in bed. It seemed so long ago.

In the mirror in the corner, I could see another gunman. He was at the end of the aisle and had yet to notice me. His stance was firm. I guessed one of the experience ones.

I could just shoot him in the back and be done with it, but where was the honor in that?

I made sure to make a little noise as I stood up to bring attention to myself. He spun around, gun raised, and didn't bother talking. He just started shooting.

I took three in the chest, and they knocked the wind out of me. I stumbled backwards, shocked and stunned. Even though I was guarded by a vest, bullets still hurt like hell. They would leave bruises. Once I regained myself, I opened up the door to the frozen pizzas. The bullets collided with the glass, but didn't penetrate. Who would have thought that the glass doors protecting frozen pizzas would be bulletproof? I would have to tell Alec.

Once he had a millisecond to readjust, I took my chance. With one hand on my gun, I lifted it and precisely shot a bullet through his right eye. It flew out of the back of his skull and blood splattered the pristine white floor as he fell.

Simple kill.

I didn't have time to reveal in my glory. I was running out of time.

The grocery store was a foreign place for me. The only time I came in here was occasionally when Selena forced me and it wasn't like I was paying attention to where everything was. Now I wish I had.

The fruit section was tucked away behind a couple other aisles. I had a tough time finding it. There was, once again, another group of people huddled together.

"I'm looking for Selena Bieber," I whispered. "She's short, brown hair, brown eyes…"

"The hot pregnant chick?"a college looking guy asked.

My hand clutched around my gun.

You can't kill this boy…

"Yes," I ground out, "the hot pregnant chick."

"By the apples." He pointed.

I slid across the floor to stay out of sight of the gunman fifty feet away. He was checking the front, and left his valuable prize unguarded.

My knees began to hurt as I crawled.

Why were there so many fucking varieties of apples? I looked behind all the bins. I learned so much. Granny Smith were the green ones. Then they had yellow ones, which I had never seen before. And the red. So much red. Burgundy. Crimson. Cardinal. Rose. It was everywhere. Some with stems, some without. Some were from Washington or California or Texas or Pennsylvania. It was maddening.

Finally, I found her, behind the Red Delicious.

Selena was seated on the tilled floor, with her legs crossed, picking over an apple. I watched her for a second. She didn't look stressed or scared at all. She inspected the fruit in her hand and then sniffed it, taking a small bite. Some juice fell onto her shirt, and she scowled, throwing the apple aside.

Another group of fruit caught her eye. She reached and picked a green one, but from the bottom. The whole bushel tumbled silently. Selena covered herself as they fell over and pelted her. They rolled across the floor in all directions. It was honestly the cutest thing I had ever seen.

"I don't even like apples." She bit her lip and crossed her arms.

She looked okay. No noticeable bruises or scratches and thankfully, no bullet wounds. I almost didn't want to disturb her.

"If I save you, do you promise to make me hundreds of apple pies in the future?" I chuckled.

Selena whipped her head around and her eyes grew. She threw herself at me, her arms wrapping around my neck. "You're here. Finally!"

I held her close, sticking my nose into her neck to smell her scent. It was familiar and calming.

"What the hell have you gotten yourself into this time?" I asked.

"I swear; I'm a danger magnet." Selena shook her head. "I hate it."

I pulled back and cradled her face in my hand, bracing her to me as I kissed her lips. She tasted like…apples. I loved it. Her thanks for my rescue were poured into her movements as her tongue glided into my mouth. It felt like heaven. Selena's legs spread over my lap and my hand splayed on her lower back, thrusting her body closer.

Soon, I felt wetness on my face.

"Selena, are you okay? Are you hurt?" I asked worriedly.

"No." She sniffled and cried, "I'm fine."

"What is it?"

"I didn't think you would come to get me."

"Why would you think that?"

"I don't know. I thought you were mad at me. I'm sorry I took your car." Her voice was thick with tears.

"Please stop being so silly, Selena. I don't give a fuck about the car. I just had to get you out."

"You're not mad?"

"Hell yes, I'm mad. You didn't pick up your phone, you've gotten yourself into a hostage situation, and you didn't take anyone with you." I seethed. "This is why you have bodyguards, who've been fired, by the way."

"I know. I'm so stupid." She held her head in her hands. "I thought I'd be okay."

"This is what happens when we get too complacent. We make mistakes." I hugged her. "But I came to get you."

She didn't stop crying.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" I wiped the tears from her cheeks with my thumbs.

"I've been sitting here on the floor for over an hour, waiting for the police to show up. I'm hungry; I want a pizza or cheeseburger. I have to pee and I think I've cried myself into exhaustion."

I chuckled, "Let me just get you out of here, okay?"

She nodded, sadly smiling. "I love you, Justin. Thank you for coming to get me."

"Of course." I kissed her again. "Is the baby all right?" I placed my hand on her small, rounded stomach.

"Yeah. We're both good."

We stopped breathing when we heard a bushel of apples roll towards us. I looked up and saw the gunman behind a small farm cart with large wheels. It was another display type thing. He didn't see us yet. I pushed Selena under it, and then put my back against the far side of the cart.

I put my finger over my lips to tell Selena to be quiet. She looked so scared, but I knew it wasn't for her. It was for me.

I waited, barely breathing.

The gunman rounded the cart and pointed his gun at me. "There you are."

"You caught me." I didn't bother fighting. I didn't want bullets flying with Selena so close.

"You were stupid, coming in here."

"You were stupid holding up a grocery store. Do you think you'll get out of here alive? Police are everywhere."

"I don't care." He took off his ski mask to reveal his face. He wasn't anything special, and I was sure his name was 'Mike' or 'Norman'. Something unimpressive like blue eyes held a certain sense of crazy to them that didn't make me feel comfortable. This man wasn't stable.

"I just came to get my wife. I can get you whatever you want if you just let her go," I negotiated.

"She's the brunette who was over here?" He looked around.

I nodded.

"Where did she go?"

"I don't know. I came to find her."

"I know who you are." He raised his gun onto his shoulder. "You're that Bieber guy. The mob guy."

"Yeah, that's me."

"You don't look so scary." He darkly laughed. "I've read the reports on you. You're supposed to be some heartless, insane killer."

"I've had my moments."

"Do you want to kill me now?"

"Very much so, but I won't. I'll let the police handle you. I just want my wife safe."

"Wife? Why would someone ever marry you?"

"Because she loves me," I told him. "And I love her."

"Really? You can love?"

"Only her."

"I'm sure your mother would be disappointed to hear that." He pointed the barrel of his gun towards my face. "You don't love your mother?"

"Of course I do. It's just a different kind. Do you love your mother?"

"No," he snapped and scowled.

"Just let my wife go."

"I can't do that."

"How about an exchange? I'll stay here and you let her walk free. I'm worth a hell of a lot more." I enticed his greedy nature.

He thought it over for a couple of seconds. His eyebrows raised. "That you are. The famous Justin Bieber under my thumb."

It all happened so quickly, I almost didn't even see it.

A small hand darted out from under the cart, fingers wrapped around a shiny switchblade. It slashed across the gunman's Achilles tendon and sliced through easily. Like butter. I saw blood and heard his screams as he fell to the floor, on his knees.

"Bowing in front of me as it should be." I shot him in the groin and he flew backwards, into another display of apples with yelps of pain.

I took Selena's hand and dragged her out from under the cart. She slid easily across the tiles and started to run.

"Don't stop," I told her. "Get outside until you see the police."

"What about you?"

"Just go, Selena." I pushed her forward. She was almost to the entrance.

I saw the last gunman, gun ready, from the other side of the store.

I took position to shoot, but didn't need to. The doors of the store opened and Emmett and Jasper came barreling in followed by a throng of police who fanned out like the cavalry. They were shouting and giving orders.

I went outside and finally felt like I could breathe. Selena was free. I could care less about what was going on inside or who was getting arrested.

I started looking through the crowds to see if I could find her. Her eyes locked with mine and were pleading as she was being pulled by a medic towards an ambulance.

I ran towards them. "Let her go!" I said.

"She needs to be checked over. She could be hurt," he informed me.

"I have my own doctors for that." I wrapped an arm around her and he loosened his grasp.

"It's protocol. I have to check all the hostages. They can't leave until I give the order."

"Fuck you and your orders."

"Justin, stop." Embry was there to push me back. "He's just doing his job. Everything's fine."

"I'm taking her home."

"What the hell are you doing here?" Selena scowled at him.

"It's nice to see you too," he replied hurriedly. "You two can't leave. I need statements."

"Call me in the morning to set up a meeting. I need to get her home." I started to make my way towards the cars. "I've already broken enough rules tonight. Add another one."

"Oh my God, Justin!" Selena squeaked. "You're shot."

"What?"

"You've been shot." She pointed to my left shoulder. My shirt was ripped open and a chunk of skin was missing. It looked through-and-through.

"Seems that way." I hadn't even felt it.

Selena's fingers began taking apart my vest and she pulled it from my body. "You could have been killed." She was not happy.

"Can I just get you home before we start this?"

"No, we're doing this right now." She stomped over the medic's truck, and he shouted at her the entire time she was digging through his supplies. She came back with a bottle of rubbing alcohol.

"First of all, why didn't you take Alec with you?" I asked her harshly.

"Because I didn't want to. I already have bodyguards. I don't need a babysitter."

"Obviously you do. You can't even go grocery shopping without getting in trouble."

She pulled off my shirt over my head. I felt the twinge of pain as I lifted my arms. "I went because we needed food and I even told you so it's not like I snuck out."

"I don't care. You can't just leave your phone in the car and expect me to swoop in every time to save you."

"They took our phones anyway!" She squirted some of the alcohol on my shoulder haphazardly.

It stung like fire. "Jesus Christ, Selena."

"That's what you get." She did it again. It stung worse.

"You can't be mad at me for helping you."

"I'm not. I'm grateful, but you got mad at me first."

"You're damned right. I'm furious. You put yourself in danger."

"It's wasn't like I planned it." She squirted me.

"Okay, stop it." I grabbed the bottle from her, throwing it on the ground. "I was fucking worried about you. I have the right to be mad."

She sighed, "I know and I'm sorry, but you're stressing me out. I can't even go to the grocery store anymore without being followed."

"You can't keep doing stupid things like this. Next time, we won't be so lucky." I pulled her close to me. "This is your life now. I warned you."

She nodded into my chest.

"Mr. Bieber, are you and the Mrs. fighting?" A reported pointed a camera in my face.

"No interviews," I said sternly and shoved him away. I took Selena's hand and pulled her towards Emmett's Hummer.

"What was it like in there, Mrs. Bieber? How many were lost?" someone else asked.

"No interviews." Alec was suddenly at my side, helping us guide our way through the attacking cameras.

"Take Selena home," I told him.

He nodded. "I already called the doctor. He's waiting for us."

"Good. And make sure he checks everything. If she's hurt I want to know."

He led her the rest of the way.

I turned around the face the reporters. "Call my secretary tomorrow. I'll set up a press conference in the morning. You can all ask questions then."

"How is the Mrs.? Is she allright?"

"I said tomorrow. And she's fine." I walked towards the white Mercedes I drove here.

"What about the rumors that Mrs. Bieber is pregnant? There have been pictures of you two leaving the doctor's office and she's starting to show. What do you have to say?"

We hadn't told anyone formally, but I knew we would have to make an announcement at some point. The press was hungry for it.

"No comment. No interviews." I got into the car. Their lights were still flashing. This was going to make national news probably.

I drove off and didn't even bother slowing down because of all the police as I headed in the direction of home, thankful that my wife was safe.

SELENA POV

"Run without a destination, and you'll finally see, what freedom can be. "-Anonymous

All things Twilight related belong to Stephanie Meyer.

I sat next to Justin as we rode towards O'Hare airport in the back of the silver Aston Martin. William was driving and kept his eyes up front. I was more than ready for a couple weeks away. Especially after the grocery store debacle.

I was still a little shaken, but thankfully okay. Justin was going crazy, making sure that I was thoroughly checked by a private doctor when we got home, who assured me that I was physically fine. I wasn't even worried about myself at this point. I just wanted to make sure the baby wasn't harmed. He said that all was well. I had an ultrasound and for the first time, got to see what was growing inside of me.

It wasn't as life-changing as I thought it would be. I couldn't even detect the small bean-like figure on the screen. Justin said he could. I squinted my hardest, but still didn't see. I cried a little, though. Everything was fine.

When the doctor suggested that I might have psychological trauma from the hostage ordeal and needed to see a therapist, I had to stop myself from laughing in his face. I had seen Justin do far worse with a gun in his hand than what I had just been through. A little grocery store holdup was nothing in comparison. Justin wanted to cancel the trip because he was overly worried. I begged him not to. I really did want to go on some sort of honeymoon and now seemed as good a time as any to leave, although we did wait a couple more days.

Justin held a press conference to answer questions that reporters had on his involvement in the robbery. Of course, we had to talk to the police first and gave his statements. He didn't lie about anything. Justin stated exactly what he had done and why. Only one of the gunmen had been killed from his hand, but he claimed self defense and the videos showed that. He would probably have to testify at their trials later.

He made national news for his heroic efforts. I thought there would be more of a backlash for him walking into a grocery store with a semiautomatic weapon, but Justin was praised instead of criticized. He did receive a fine, though, for having a gun without a permit. He hated the attention. I don't even think we were supposed to leave the country right now, but that didn't stop him.

I looked over to my husband, who was reading this morning's paper. He had on his glasses and looked fairly calm. Over the weekend, the doctor had nursed his bullet wound, and Justin promised me that it was just was so strong, but his overconfidence in dangerous situations made me agonize at an unhealthy level. He wouldn't even let me look at the hole in his bicep, saying that I shouldn't worry over it.

We needed this vacation before real life overwhelmed us.

Everyone was coming, but Justin guaranteed me that we would have our alone time for a couple of days. One week in Spain turned into two, just because Justin said so. I wasn't complaining. I didn't know what he said to my boss, but he let me go.

"Sei eccitato per la vacanza?" I asked him if he was excited for our vacation.

"Certo. Ho bisogno di uno," he replied, telling me that he certainly needed one. "We will have fun. I promise."

"Should you be exerting yourself after your…injury?" I pointed to his shoulder, which was still wrapped in gauze, under his shirt.

He ground his teeth together, folding the paper. "I'm not dead, Selena."

"But you could be."

"So could you. It's just a minor scratch."

"You were shot," I reminded him.

"I'm fine. I don't know how many times I have to say that." He leaned across the seat, bringing his face close to my ear. "You shouldn't worry about me so much."

"I can't help it. It's my job."

"You'll give yourself an ulcer, not to mention added stress for the baby."

"I know."

"I got shot. I lived. We move on, okay?"

I nodded.

"Lo non vado da nessuna parte, ilmioamore,"he said, low and raspy.

His words made me blush.

"Just don't die on me."

"I promise. Are you alright?"

I nodded.

"Good." He kissed my temple before sitting back up again. "William, how much longer until we reach the airport?"

"A good fifteen minutes, sir. The traffic is atrocious."

"I hate this," he whispered harshly.

One of the conditions that Justin had to abide by when we came back to the States was that he couldn't fly private internationally. It irked him to no end.

"This is just their stupid way of keeping track of me. I don't like it, and I won't stand for it," he mumbled.

"It's not that bad, Justin. It's not like we're getting stuffed into the bottom of the plane with the dogs."

"I haven't flown on a public plane in…ever. This is ridiculous and highly embarrassing."

I rolled my eyes. "It's a small price to pay so that we could come home."

"I suppose." He looked out of the window at the slow moving traffic.

"It's the destination, not the journey," I said. "My grandmother always told me that."

"Nicola told me the opposite. It's always the journey; the destination doesn't matter. You learn more from the voyage."

"That's wrong," I replied matter-of-factually.

"Oh, really?" He chuckled. "Do you have evidence to the contrary?"

"My Grandma Swan was always right. She lived to be one-hundred and three, you know. She had wisdom."

"And Nicola didn't?"

"He had a different kind."

"You're argument isn't very sound, Selena."

"It doesn't have to be." I shrugged. "I'm your wife. You have to agree with me."

William snickered up front. Justin glared at him.

"I'm not used to losing arguments," he said. "You know that better than anyone."

"I'm just kidding." I shoved him. "Gosh, you're so uptight all the time."

"I have to be nowadays. My wife seems to think it's appropriate to go places without her cellphone, which makes it impossible for her to call me if she's say…in a hostage situation."

The mood turned somber fairly quickly. He was still pissed. On some level, I realized that I was the one who put him in harm. I should have just shot him myself. If I wouldn't have gone grocery shopping, none of this would have happened.

"Are we going to be brining this up for the rest of our lives?" I asked.

"Until I feel like you've learned your lesson, yes." He looked out of the window again.

"I'm not your daughter. You don't have to talk to me like that."

"Well then don't do things that warrant punishment."

The drive was silent after that.

We pulled up the unloading station in front of the airport sometime later. I thought I went to sleep, so I couldn't be sure how much time had passed. William turned off the engine, and Justin exited before he could even come to the door.

My door was ripped open and I was pulled out of the car rather roughly. "I have Mrs. Bieber. Make sure we have a clear path," the burly man said into his phone while holding onto me tightly.

I sighed in frustration.

The old bodyguards who I had become so accustomed to were replaced by large sentinels that were instructed to never leave my side. All forms of secrecy were thrown out of the window. People surely knew I was someone important now because of my entourage.

My personal guard was named Amun. He was an ex Israeli Mossad agent who had to be discharged after a stray bullet caused him some knee problems a couple of years ago. He was perfectly intimidating and scary, but just not fit enough to stay in the army. He could do his job, though.

He was massive, bigger than Emmett, with darkly tanned skin and short black hair. I had met him yesterday when Justin forced him upon me and basically said that he was my new best friend. Along with four other men with similar backgrounds and looks, our security detail was tight. No one was ever going to harm me again.

I glared at Justin.

"You brought this on yourself," he said to me, carrying the one small bag he was bringing as his carry-on.

"Why doesn't Rose have to have one? Or Alice?" I pointed behind us as they got out of their own cars.

"Because we're not stupid, Selena," Alice replied, and put on her gigantic sunglasses. "You could have been killed."

"I forgot my cellphone…once!" I wiggled free from Amun's grasp, but he didn't step back.

"I won't have you getting hurt again." Justin took over, guiding me forward with his hand.

We didn't have any luggage as we walked through the airport. Justin didn't trust public transportation with his "valuables", so our things were all shipped yesterday. They should be in Spain when we arrived.

People pointed and stared as the eight of us traveled in our caravan, along with the giant bodyguards that we'd brought. Emmett made me feel a little better when he said that they just weren't for me. Justin was beefing up security in every aspect of his life. We all looked like bums, though. There was no way in hell I was making a ten hour flight in a dress. I think everyone else thought the same way. Justin was actually wearing jeans. I almost never saw that.

We didn't have to wait in line for security, and I was tempted to ask why not, but felt it best to just stay quiet. In no time at all, we were through our gate and seated in our seats on the plane. It all happened very quickly and without any barriers.

The whole business-class cabin was ours. We had enough people for it. We were in neat rows and had several TVs around along with those inserted into our seats. I could see the cockpit up front. It was a very comfortable and spacious area.

Amun kept an eye on me from the corner while Justin sat to my left in his pod-looking, sleeper thing. I had never flown like this before. I found it strange. We even had a different entrance from everyone else. I chalked this up to Justin's inability to actually socialize. He would never make a long trip seated next to someone he didn't know.

Alice was to my right, chatting on about rare Spanish art…I think. I wasn't paying attention. I was trying to get relaxed.

"Is there anything you need?" A stewardess was at my side in an instant with a bright smile and shiny blonde hair, cut in a bob.

"Yes, I was wondering how people got comfortable in these things." I shuffled my body around in the pod. I must have looked like a fool.

"You have it in the sleeping setting, Mrs. Bieber." She pushed a button, and I started to lift into a seating position.

"Oh," I sighed in amazement, feeling the plush leather under my fingers, "This is much better."

"Anything else?"

"No, not right now. Thank you, though."

"Okay, well my name is Jill and I'll be here if you need anything. Just ask."

"She said she didn't need your assistance. Move along." Amun was there to protect, shooing Jill in the opposite direction. "Actually I need to speak with the air marshal. Where is he?"

"I can't reveal that information." Jill clasped her hands in front of her. "Please take you seat."

"I'll find him myself." Amun walked through the aisle towards a different part of the cabin.

"Sir…" She chased after him.

"That man is crazy." I said to Justin. "Why him?"

"He's not afraid to kill people."

I sat back in my seat without another word.

"That was embarrassing for you." Emmett popped his head from around the seat behind me and got incredibly close to my face. "You could have just asked me how to work the chair."

"You could have offered your help."

"But it was so much more fun to watch you struggle." He laughed.

"That's not funny." I crossed my arms.

"Awww. Don't get mad. The baby's going to be born with frown lines." He stared at my stomach. "Does it feel weird?"

"Not right now," I said.

"Did you throw up?"

"I did when I woke up."

"Can you feel it?"

"No, not yet."

"It's so strange to see you with a bump. You're going to be so fat." He snickered.

There was a gasp from behind me. "Emmett Lorenzo Bieber! You can't say that," Rose barked. "Stop bothering her."

"I was just wondering what I was in for…"

"It's like you have no home training. You're embarrassing us."

"I am not." He sat back and began arguing. I tuned them out.

I looked to Justin who was breathing deeply through his nose. In. Out. In. Out.

"Are you okay?" I asked him.

"Have I ever told you that I hate flying?" he replied. I detected a slight quiver in his voice.

"You fly all over the world," I scoffed.

"Yeah, in my plane with my pilots. I don't know those men in the cockpit."

"Or women!" Alice corrected.

"Yes, thank you, Alice," Justin said. "I don't know who's flying this thing or what kind of certifications they have."

Emmett popped his head in again. "One time, when we were in high school, we flew on a class trip to New York. Justin passed out before we even took off. They had to call Carlisle to come and get him. He couldn't go with us."

"You never told me that," I commented.

"Because I don't want my shortcomings known to my wife," Justin growled. "And for your information, Emmett, I had a bad feeling about that whole trip, which turned out to be right."

"The same plane we used crashed a couple weeks later. We weren't on it, but it was still kind of scary." Emmett sucked on his teeth as if he were bored. "I guess Eddie is right sometimes."

"Idioto." Justin mumbled under his breath. "I still don't like flying."

"I'm sure everything will be fine." I reached across the aisle and took his hand.

"Maybe you just need to get comfortable." Alec took of his shoes and put his sock-clad feet on Justin's armrest.

Justin pushed them away. "I'm fine, thank you. Once we're in the air, I'll just sleep."

"Do you remember that time we flew into a storm going to Vancouver?" Jasper said to Emmett. "Justin almost shit in his pants."

"Oh, yeah." Emmett laughed. "That was funny."

"Leave him alone." Alice sat up in her seat. "I'm scared too, Justin."

"I'm not scared! I just don't like it. Airplanes are just gross. Not only are there strange people, who might have some kind of infection, but there are airborne parasites. You don't know what kind of hands areused to cook the food or how often they change the air filters. It's disgusting."

That shut everyone up. He was right.

"What is taking so long?" Justin craned his neck into the aisle.

"They're probably still boarding."

"We were supposed to leave fifteen minutes ago. Something must be wrong." He checked his watch.

"I'm sure it's fine."

Justin stood up and un-tucked his white button-down shirt. He pulled out a gun from behind his back and opened the overhead compartment. He placed it in his bag.

"You can't have that on a plane, Justin!" I whispered. "Are you crazy?"

"How else am I supposed to protect myself?" he said innocently.

"That's why we have bodyguards."

"Yeah, right," he sneered.

"I can't believe you brought a gun on board." I sunk into my seat, embarrassed and ashamed.

"It's not like I'm going to use it." Justin sat back down.

"You could get arrested."

"It's okay, Selena. Carlisle owns part of this airline. We pay to have certain privileges," Jasper said from in front of me.

"The FFA might have something to say about it."

"They can suck my dick," Justin replied, taking out his medicine. He had four different bottles of pills, from which he gathered several in his palm. He swallowed them easily and then shivered as they went down.

"This is going to be some trip." I shook my head.

Jill began to walk up the aisle quickly in preparation for takeoff. Justin stopped her.

"Two things. One, I'm expecting a call in a couple hours."

"Yes, sir. We can receive it from the ground and I'll put you through when necessary."

"Thank you. Two, once we're in the air, I need a basil martini," he said.

"A…basil martini, sir?" she responded, clearly confused.

Justin was already looking frustrated and snapped his mouth shut. He was about to rant.

I interrupted by tapping her on the arm, "Vodka, Vermouth, a dash of balsamic vinegar, and four crushed basil leaves. No ice. Absolutely no ice. He hates ice," I stressed.

She looked at me and nodded. "Shall I place it in the cooler?"

"Yes, and make sure the basil is crushed, not chopped. Just small flakes."

"Would everyone like one?" Jill asked us.

"No, that sounds gross." Jasper trembled in disgust.

"The basil calms his nerves," I said to her. "The balsamic vinegar puts him to sleep. It's strange, but it works."

"Oh, that makes sense." She smiled. "Thanks for the tip." She scurried off.

"I miss being a bartender. You have to tell people…calmly what you want." I bit my lip, waiting for his response.

"Well, thank you for that." He sighed. "I was about to have her fired."

"Not everyone knows what a basil martini is. And you shouldn't even be drinking with your medication."

"Sometimes, little things like that escape me," he admitted.

"That's why you have me. I'm truly your better half."

Justin looked at me as realization spread across his face. "I never thought of it like that. Interesting."

"That's what a marriage is for." I leaned back in my seat.

Takeoff was a couple of minutes later. Justin had a hard time with that, but tried not to show it. He was brought his drink and started to doze off soon after. An hour later, the sun was going down and everyone had sunk into the pods to sleep.

Unfortunately, I didn't have that pleasure. I had to get up for the bathroom too frequently. It was torture. I was warned that pregnancy might make you pee more, but I always thought that was in a couple of months when I was bigger. Rose told me that the prenatal vitamins also add to the added urination.

Every time I got up to go, Amun was there to baby me along.

"Don't you ever sleep?" I asked him on my most recent trip to the fairly large bathroom up front.

"No, ma'am. Never," he answered. I think he was joking. He almost pushed me back into my seat. "Make sure to buckle up."

"Last time I checked, I left my father back in Forks," I snapped unintentionally.

He grunted in reply before going back to his seat.

This was my fault, but it was going to get old pretty quickly. I didn't think Justin would ever let me out of the house alone again.

Finally, I was able to sleep and what a good sleep it was. I don't think I even came up for air and I wasn't quite sure how long I stayed in slumber, but it must have been a good couple of hours. I was putting this pod thing on my wish list for Christmas. It was magical.

I woke up with a full bladder, but well rested. The cabin was dark as I rushed to the bathroom. When I came back out, Amun was there.

"Should I invite you into the room when I give birth?" I commented.

"I'm not sure Mr. Bieber would allow that, but I will be right outside. Screams don't scare me." He smirked.

I plopped back down in my seat.

Everyone else was still sleeping and looked rather peaceful. I was far too excited to rest again. I was going to Spain! I had never really been anywhere before besides my recent, short trip to Italy and of course Brazil. Justin said that Spain was his favorite European country so I was excited to see what it had to offer. Plus, it was my mock-honeymoon. That brought about a whole new wave of exhilaration.

I stole one of Alice's gossip magazines and busied myself with its contents for awhile. I then switched to playing one of Jasper's Sudoku puzzles. He was a math genius and could complete even the hardest of problems in minutes. I—could not.

Jill rushed over to me. "Mrs. Bieber, can I get you anything? You slept through dinner."

"I am actually hungry." The thought of food made my stomach suddenly rumble. "I'll just have whatever you served."

"You'll be having braised chicken, a large salad, along with some roasted vegetables. Mr. Bieber specified that you were to have the healthy meal."

"Of course he did," I exhaled. "That's fine."

"Okay. Do you think Mr. Bieber would be hungry?"

"Not right now."

"Also, his call came in about an hour ago. We got disconnected, but they're about to call again. Shall I wake him up?"

"No, I'll do it."

"It's not problem, Mrs. Bieber." She reached her hand out towards Justin.

"No!" I said, but she didn't pull back and it was too late.

Big mistake.

Even in his slumber, he was a lethal man. Jill made contact with his shoulder and Justin sprung into action. His hand snapped up and grasped her around the neck. He pulled her down so that her face was on his lap and his fingers dug into her flesh.

"Justin, no!" I jumped out of my seat and ran across the aisle.

Jill whimpered in pain as he grabbed harder. He was muttering something I couldn't hear and looked possessed. Her arm was twisted in an awkward way that was clearly causing massive amounts of pain. It would only be a matter of seconds until I heard the pop of her shoulder.

"Please, don't do this…"

I started to pull on his arm, and with my touch, he easily relinquished his hold. Justin took a breath like he had been submerged under water for hours. Jill was on the floor, a heaping mess of sobs and gasps.

"Justin, it's okay. It was just the stewardess." I cupped his face in my hands, feeling a day's worth of stubble under my palms.

"What the fuck…" He swiveled his head around in confusion.

"She wasn't trying to hurt you, I swear."

He calmed down almost instantly. He blinked a couple of times and that was it. "I don't like being touched, let alone when I'm sleeping."

"I know, I know. I tried to stop her."

"I didn't mean to hurt her." Justin actually looked somewhat remorseful.

"It's okay." I hugged him close to me, and he hugged me back. It was a very intimate moment amongst the chaos that had just erupted in our cabin.

Jasper and Emmett had woken up from the noise. They were trying to compose Jill. Amun, who had some sort of medical training, was checking her over. She just wept into Jasper's shirt and wouldn't let go. He ended up carrying her down the aisle to her station.

"That was badass." Emmett huffed, taking his seat again. "I thought I was dreaming."

"I didn't mean to hurt her," Justin said again.

"I know. She'll be fine," I assured him. "Do you want me to sit with you?"

He leaned back in the seat, angry and aggravated. "I need another martini."

Since Jill was the only stewardess in our cabin and was currently indisposed of, I took it upon myself to get the drink. She had made a lot of it and just kept the shaker in the small cooler up front. I found a glass and poured him a liberal amount.

"Hey, Selena, when you have a chance, can you get me another pillow?" Jasper re-took his seat.

"She's not your fucking maid," Justin snarled. "Get it yourself."

"Alright, alright." Jasper held his hands up in surrender.

I brought Justin his drink.

"Thank you," he said, taking it from me. He gulped it down. "Where is she? Is she alright? What's her name?"

"Jill." I answered. "I think she's okay."

"Why did she have to do that?"

"She was trying to tell you that your phone call came in."

"What?" His head whipped around. "And she didn't wake me?"

"Justin, she tried." I rolled my eyes. "You almost killed her, or did you forget that?"

"Oh, yeah." His brow furrowed. "I'll just write her a check or something."

"And apologize," I scolded.

Justin whined, "Selena, it was her fault. And I believe I did hear you warn her not to."

"That still doesn't make up for the fact that you strangled our poor stewardess. She could be traumatized."

Jill reappeared with a tear stained face and shaking limbs. Her hair was an absolute mess. "I'm…I'm sorry…I didn't mean…."

Justin just looked at her, his eyes a mixture of pity and annoyance. "That's quite alright."

"They're sending someone else up so that I can take a little break." She smiled sadly, clutching her throat. Deep bruise marks were already starting to appear.

I nudged him. Justin seemed to get the message. "Oh, um…well, thank you for helping us. It was rude of you to wake me up, but I didn't mean to act so irrationally."

"That's okay. It's no big deal." She shook her head. "I'm going to rest now. If you need anything, they'll have another stewardess up in a second."

"Thanks, Jill." Alice patted her on the back.

"You're a trooper." Emmett slow clapped as she made her exit.

I glared at Justin who was looking pleased with his "apology".

"You didn't say you were sorry."

"I did," Justin argued, "and I am."

That was that.

The rest of the trip ride actually seemed more relaxed. I never saw Jill again. I didn't think I would. I think our tranquility had something to do with the fact that we were nearing our destination, and Justin had a few glasses of alcohol in him, which always loosened his tenseness. None of us really went back to sleep.

Alice and I watched a couple of movies. Justin disappeared for about an hour to tend to his mystery call. He came back with a smile, but wouldn't tell me why. Emmett, Jasper, and Alec played several rowdy rounds of poker, which ended in heated debate. Jane and Rose kept to themselves most of the way there.

"Ladies and gentleman, if you could take your seats, we are making our descent into Barcelona," the captain said over the speaker. "The current temperature is a cool seventy. We will be landing shortly."

I was getting really excited. I leaned over Justin to look out of the window, thinking I might be able to see something, but we were still in the clouds.

"Selena, you have to put your seatbelt on," Justin told me worriedly. "Sixty percent of airplane crashes occur during takeoff or landing." He actually picked me up and fastened the belt across my stomach.

"I could've done that."

"And argued with me the whole time. It was just easier to do it myself." He smirked, but I wasn't swayed. I was still kind of mad at him for almost killing Jill. He acted like it didn't happen.

Half an hour later, the plane had landed and we were free to leave our seats. We got through customs, getting our passports checked and all the regulatory papers signed.

The May air was perfect; not too hot, but certainly not cold. The sky felt cleaner, the sun shone brighter, and my eyes were opened to a whole new world. We were just in the airport!

"What do we do first?" I asked as Justin held my hand. We were walking briskly, and I could feel Amun nearly on my ass.

"First, you need rest."

"I've had rest. I want to go do something."

"Once we get to the villa, you're taking a long nap. You need to take it easy, especially after this weekend. You're still not recuperated."

"The doctor said I was fine."

"I know what's best. Just trust me."

"Then can we go out later?"

"Yes, Selena," he chuckled, "I promise."

We all continued to walk and I caught snippets of everyone's conversations. They seemed to be just as excited as I was. This was our first family vacation since…Well, in a long time.

"Those are our cars." Justin pointed across the street where five impressive-looking, black vehicles waited. Drivers were there to hold our doors.

"They look nice," I said. I had never really been into cars that much.

Alice rushed past us towards. "Oh, Justin got us Maybachs!"

"What's a Maybach?" I asked, looking up him.

He shook his head, ashamed in me. "Selena, your husband imports international cars and you don't know what a Maybach is?"

"Sorry, no," I said, even though I wasn't.

"It's a beautifully sculpted piece of machinery." We reached the car, and he ran his hands over the smooth, black metal."The only good thing to come out of Germany since the printing press."

"Okay…" I shrugged to myself.

Amun came running up from behind us, hauling the medium sized dog-carrier. Francis growled from inside, clearly not liking the jerking movements.

"I still don't see why we had to bring him." Justin rolled his eyes.

"Alec begged me," I said, reaching out to unlock the crate when Amun put the carrier down. Francis wobbled out, almost as if he was drunk, and his fat legs crossed in front of each other as he tried to walk.

Francis was an obedient dog, and a little afraid of Justin, I think. So he would never run away from us and rarely used a leash. He went pee in a small patch of grass near us and looked very proud of himself while doing so. He must have recognized the change of location because he started to explore when he was done.

Justin ran over and lifted him up. "It's time to go, dog."

I scooted into the backseat and was surprised at how spacious it was. It certainly didn't look this big from the outside. It was roomy and the seats leaned at an angle that made me want to fall asleep again, but I couldn't. I had to stay awake and see the landscape that was passing by as we drove. Francis sat inbetween us, whipping his head back and forth, enjoying the ride.

"I can take you to all these places." Justin pointed out the window to the city. "I spent a year here, studying."

"Did you even go to school in the States? It seems like you were always out of the country for something or other when you were young."

"I didn't like grade schools in Chicago and detested Dartmouth with a passion."

"No one understood you?" I guessed.

"Precisely." He humorlessly laughed, probably making a joke in his head about something I wouldn't understand.

I looked back out of the window. I was overwhelmed. Barcelona seemed like a lively city, but the best part about it was the ocean. It was so close and so blue, but not the kind I was used to seeing in Forks or even Brazil. This blue looked to be glowing in the sun.

Francis climbed onto Justin so that he could see better out of the larger-than-normal windows that the Maybach provided. Those two were quite the pair. Justin would treat Francis like dirt most of the time, but the dog didn't mind. He loved Justin unconditionally. I think the same could be said the other way around.

The driver weaved through the city. Amun, up front, kept telling him to slow down in Spanish, but I didn't mind the speed as we climbed the hills of Barcelona. I couldn't see much on the trip to our house, though I was already enthralled by the city. It was breathtaking and had a different vibe to it from any other place I had visited. It was bohemian and chic, with a hint of new world neurosis that we were all used to. But the history was everywhere; the streets, churches, buildings, fountains. It was all so old, but I was looking at it through new eyes.

Justin chuckled and I looked at him. "What?"

"Nothing." He shook his head, petting Francis behind the ears.

"No, tell me."

"You just look…so happy." His finger traced over the curve of my lips, memorizing my smile.

"I am happy."

He leaned in close. "I like to see you happy and I hope you have a wonderful time."

"Thank you for bringing me." I could feel my cheeks spread wider.

"Seeing you joyful, makes me feel good." He kissed the corner of my mouth, whispering, "Questo è quelloche vivo per, Selena."

This is what I live for.

The villa was…just massive. Too big for the eight of us, but I guessed we now had to accommodate not only an army of bodyguards, but wait staff as well.

"They're necessary, Selena," Justin told me. "You're not to lift a finger. Is that understood?"

I just nodded.

There were cooks, and cleaners, and even a dog groomer. They all had smiles and looked very pleased to be with us. I'm sure they were saying nasty things in their heads, though. Mr. Bieber, as he liked to be called by the staff, was already being sullen and snapped at a girl who spilled his water when bringing it to him. I would have to be extra nice to make up for his nastiness.

The house's floor plan was open so that all the rooms on the lower level basically stayed connected. High ceilings and grand staircases intimidated me as I looked up. All the floors were covered in expensive rugs or rustic Spanish tiles. There was a courtyard that was teeming with vegetation that I had never seen before. A soft fountain sprayed water, and the breeze flowed through easily so that it wasn't so hot.

The rooms were big and the beds, bigger. Justin had to lift me onto ours when I wanted to test it out. Francis couldn't even jump up. Balconies overlooked the city, and since we were on a large hill, it was easy to see Barcelona in its entirety below us. My nap was forgone because I was too damn excited.

"This is amazing." I sat down at the long table in the courtyard next to Rose. Small trays of tapas were laid out for our arrival along with tall pitchers of lemonade and sangria.

Alice was flipping through travel guides. Jane was giggling shamelessly at Alec and Francis, who were running around in the grass.

"Two weeks in the Spanish sun. I'm super excited and quite impressed with Justin at the moment," she agreed with me. "Your husband did well. He's thorough about your happiness, if nothing else."

"He does too much for me." I hung my head.

"What you can't give him in material things you can give him in sex." Alice leaned back in her chair, taking in the rays.

"That makes her sound like a whore," Jane piped in.

"She's having his baby. That's gift enough." Alec sat and took a sip of red liquid from Jane's glass. It clearly wasn't lemonade.

"He acts like I'm not." I put my hand over my stomach, which was growing every day. I had already changed out of my travel clothes and was in a light blue sundress. You couldn't see my belly since it was flowing around me.

Rose shook her head in disgust. "I just don't get that kid. He's happy for you one second and then he's complaining the next."

"Well, we're all happy," Jane assured me.

"He is so happy," Alec argued for his brother. "Justin's just confused. He's never been through this before."

"And Selena has?" Rose snapped.

Alec and I looked at each other, a silent conversation about Elizabeth playing between us. They all knew about what I went through, but sometimes could be insensitive about the subject. I think they forgot. I would never forget.

Before I could say anything, Justin strode into the courtyard.

"My ears were burning. Who's talking about me?" he joked.

There was a chorus of fake responses. He just raised his eyebrows and sat next to me. "We leave in the morning."

"And where are we going?" I asked.

"To be alone." He grinned.

"But we just got here," Alice pouted. "We're all supposed to be together. This is a family vacation."

"First and foremost, this is a honeymoon," Justin corrected. "We'll be back, though. I just want to spend a couple of days away with my beautiful, blushing bride."

"Awwwww," Alec cooed.

"Shut up," I mumbled and placed my lips on Justin's.

It was late afternoon when we arrived, and as the sun started to go down, I wondered when I was supposed to sleep. I figured I needed rest at some point, but I wasn't really tired. Justin said that 'jet lag' was just a figment of our imagination, and we shouldn't buy into it. He told me to just sleep as I normally would.

That night, we had a traditional Spanish barbeque. A cook brought out a whole pig and roasted it over an open fire for a couple of hours. It was amazing. I didn't really know what all the dishes were, but I trusted Justin to steer me away from anything I shouldn't be eating.

"So, what is the real reason we're here?" Rose asked as we sat around the table outside, gorging ourselves on delicious cuisine.

"Fun," Justin replied, it sounding more like a question.

"It's never fun with you Justin." Jane giggled, only slightly tipsy from the red wine.

"I can have fun," he argued. "Tell 'em, Selena."

"He can have fun," I said dryly. Everyone started to laugh.

"We have business. That's all you need to know." Emmett kissed Rose gently. "Don't worry your pretty little head."

"Worrying is a part of the job description." Alice poked him with her fork. "We have to worry or we'll go crazy because we aren't worrying. We live a very stressful life being the wives of you three."

I nodded. I knew that better than anyone else.

"I just don't think you should." Jasper shrugged. "We know how to take care of ourselves and it's not like we always do dangerous things."

"Every time one of you go out for 'business' and the phone rings, I debate on whether I should get it or not. It could be the police or…the hospital." Rose looked genuinely conflicted. She loved Emmett, but didn't love what he did. I was similar.

"And I've seen enough cop shows to know what happens to men like you." Alice nodded. "It's scary."

"Hell, my father is a cop." Of course, everyone knew that already.

"You live completely unrealistic lives. How can you go into a grocery store and shoot the place, but walk away without consequences." Alice continued.

"I do have consequences to deal with. I just suffer in silence and take it like a man." Justin challenged.

"Still, it's scary. One day, you're luck is going to run out."

"And it's worse when you don't tell us anything." Rose took a sip of her wine.

I nodded vigorously. "That's physically painful."

I didn't think we had ever had this talk altogether before. They knew we didn't like it when they went off, but Jasper, Emmett, Justin, and Alec seemed to be taking our words to heart. They were listening to our lecture with interested ears and not scoffing like I thought they would.

"But it's the worst with Selena." Jane pointed to me. "I know it must be."

"Why?" Justin asked, concerned.

"Because you're such a fucking hothead," Rose scolded. "I can basically predict what Emmett's going to do and say when conflict arises in a sticky situation. He'll be safe. You, who knows? You could get into a fight with someone over a parking ticket and end up pulling out your gun. It scares her."

"And she broke down crying last week when you went off to talk to Magicavallo. She was terrified. I had to make her tea and we stayed up half the night." Alice's face fell in sympathy.

I hadn't told him that and could feel his eyes on me, wondering if it was true.

There was silence around the table for awhile. I felt Francis butting his head up against my leg, so I picked him up and held him close to me. I couldn't look at Justin.

Jasper cleared his throat. "Okay, enough with the heavy stuff. This is vacation. Let's play a game."

"Oh, a game," Alice cheered. "A sex game."

We all groaned. Alice was infamous for her sex games. She was nosy and wanted to know about everything we did under the sheets. Her "games" usually involved some form of embarrassing questioning, and everyone tried to outdo one another. Surprisingly, we were always very open about this kind of thing. No one was embarrassed.

Justin put his arm over the back of my chair, but didn't say anything about the conversation we just had. We wouldn't talk about it later, either. We would never talk about it. The subject of me worrying over him was a forbidden topic in our house.

"Okay, I'll start." Rose turned to us. "When was the first time each of you had sex? And no one can get mad about the answers. I was thirteen."

"Jesus," I breathed out, mostly to myself.

"Did you even enjoy it?" Alice's mouth dropped open in shock.

"I was a very sexual girl. I developed early." Rose had never made excuses for her sexual prowess and wasn't ashamed of it in the slightest. "He was my French teacher and I was a young freshman, finding my way. It was glorious."

"Slut," Justin said, not so quietly.

"My turn." Jasper sat up. "I was fifteen. We had a project to do for anatomy class." He waggled his eyebrows.

Jane spoke next, "I was fifteen, too. My brother's best friend."

"We all know shorty over here hasn't done anything." Emmett ruffled Alec's hair. "His dick is going to dry up and shrivel off."

"I'm waiting." Alec punched him, doing little damage.

Jane blushed; I could see it, even though it was dark outside and the table was only lit in small candles.

"I'll get there when I'm good and ready." Alec nodded with finality.

"Cute," Justin said under his breath with a hint of sarcasm.

"I was fourteen," Emmett said. "I don't even remember her name." He tapped his chin.

"That's sad." Alice pursed her lips. "I was sixteen and had a horrible experience. I didn't know what to do with…it. I just let him stick it wherever and I didn't even feel anything."

We all laughed. Francis looked around like we were all crazy.

"I was seventeen and it was at prom." I bit my lip. "Pretty normal stuff."

Justin was the last to go. Everyone was looking at him.

"What counts as sex?" he asked, trying to beat around the bush. "Because technically…"

"When you stick your penis in a vagina," Rose said slowly. "Intercourse. Penetration. When you buried your cock into her wet…"

"Alright, alright," I shouted. "We get it."

She shrugged.

Justin exhaled and ran a hand over his hair. I didn't think he was going to answer.

"He was twelve." Emmett did for him. "Nicola took him to a strip club and paid for pussy, but I'm sure Justin could get it anyway. The girls loved him."

Justin never liked talking about this. He blamed many of his problems now on his early sexual experiences. I think it traumatized him a little.

I took his hand under the table. He nodded in conformation.

"I think her name was Stacy or something." He took a pull from his wine, finishing that conversation.

"What a stripper name." Alice rolled her eyes. "Okay, new question."

"What is one thing your partner won't let you do in the bedroom?" Jasper quirked an eyebrow. "Alice won't let me tie her up."

"I can't do it." She shook her head adamantly. "I don't like being confined. No, it's out of the question."

"Rose won't do anal." Emmett sipped his beer.

"What?" Jane asked in surprise. "You must not be doing it right."

We all looked at her.

"It can be fun if you do it right." She put her hands up to demonstrate. "First, you just have to stretch because…"

"Stop!" Jasper clapped a hand over her mouth. "None of that talk around the table."

"Ask Alice." Jane tilted her head. "She does it."

"I do not!" Alice squeaked, "Once. Okay, maybe twice."

Jasper held up ten fingers proudly. "At least that many."

She giggled, "He's lying."

Justin and I had never…done that. I hadn't done enough research on that to consider it a possibility. He never asked or pushed and I just didn't find it necessary. Obviously, Jane had experience.

"All I'm saying is that you have to prepare. You can't just stick it up there and expect everything to feel good," Jane told Rosalie. "Be adventurous."

"Congratulations." Emmett nodded to Alec. I didn't think he understood.

"Justin won't let me give him a blowjob, I said innocently.

There were various forms of protest from around the table—men and women alike. Justin choked on his wine and looked at me with wide eyes. He wasn't mad, though. Just shocked.

"I don't believe that," Jasper mocked. "You're lying."

"No, it's true," I affirmed. "I've never been able to give him one. He always stops me."

To be honest, I actually liked giving them,I think. I was told I was good at them in high school from the two guys I had relationships with. Then there was Mike, but he was up for anything. I could have stuck his penis in a light socket and his eyes would have been as good as rolled back.

"Look, "Justin held his hands up, "it's not like I don't enjoy getting them, but why should we do that kind of stuff? It's degrading for her."

"No, it's not," Emmett jeered.

"Quite the opposite." Alice's brow crinkled. "It gives us power in the bedroom. It's fun for us. Well, of course, there are some girls who don't like to do it, but that's their choice. Selena doesn't seem to mind."

I shook my head. "I would do it if he let me."

"This is just sad." Jasper tsked. "And here I thought you two were wild sex fiends."

"Do you go down on her?" Alec asked him.

Justin nodded, a smirk on his lips. I hit his shoulder.

Cocky bastard.

"So then what's the problem? It's reciprocation."

"I just don't like seeing her down there," Justin said. "It might feel good, sure, but I don't like thinking about it."

"I feel something more." Alice eyed him with suspicion.

He sighed. "I had sex the first time at twelve, but my first sexual experience was at eleven; another stripper. She gave me a blowjob and said that she hated doing it because she was powerless on her knees. I don't ever want Selena powerless."

Justin's words were profound and incredibly sweet, even though the context was slightly inappropriate.

"You'll never be powerless." He kissed the side of my face. "Besides, blowjobs are juvenile."

"That's true," Rose agreed. "Every middle schooler these days knows how to bob their heads up and down, but it's fun."

"Like anal sex can be fun," Jane shot at her.

"That is not what I had in mind! It could hurt."

"That's why you stretch!"

My little blowjob problem was forgotten after that. Justin laughed at the jokes everyone made and how incredibly crazy we were being in our discussion on sex.

All too soon, we were all starting to get sleepy or maybe just drunk. Well, not me, but I could have lied down for a bit.

Justin carried me up the stairs and into our giant bedroom. All our clothes had been unpacked and put away nicely by the staff,who I never saw unless we asked for something.

He gently laid me on the bed and I sunk into the sheets. "I'm going to go take a shower and then come back to show you just how fun sex can be without silly blowjobs."

"Can't I take a shower with you?" I asked, panting since his hands were already creeping up my thighs, making them burn in anticipation.

"No, I need to ravish you in a bed where we have room to…spread out."

"Oh, my," I gasped as his lips descended on my exposed collarbone.

"Would you like to shower first?" he asked, nipping behind my ear, talking slowly and deeply.

"Uh…no. I'll go after you." I threaded my fingers into his hair.

"All that talk about sex downstairs got me very hot." His lips trailed down my cheek until they reached my neck again. "God, your skin is so soft."

"Fuck…" I lifted my hips up for pressure against him.

"Say it again," he mumbled, his face now in between my breasts. He had pulled down my sundress, and I was bare on top.

"Fuck," I screamed when his teeth raked across my nipple.

"I love it when you curse. It's so sexy." He kissed lower, taking my dress down with him. "You're so innocent, but when I get you in my bed, you turn into this…I don't even know. Say more bad stuff."

I giggled as his lips opened, and he breathed hot breath over my upper thighs. My dress was gone completely. I shuddered as the air hit my skin, now wet by his kisses.

"I don't know what to say." I could feel myself blush. I had never been one for dirty talk.

"Say, 'pussy'," he commanded.

"Pussy," I whispered.

"Louder."

"Pussy!"

"Forget the shower." Justin ripped off his shirt, buttons popping over me. I felt his skin against mine when he lied back on top of me. "Will this hurt the baby?"

"No," I gasped again when his hand pressed between my legs, feeling my folds and taking his sweet time pushing a finger into me. I pulled at his hair, an encouragement to go further.

"Get up," he instructed, removing his hand.

"What?" I pouted.

Justin gently picked me up and turned me around. "On all fours, Selena."

"Oh." I exhaled through my mouth, taken by surprise by his tone. I liked it.

When I didn't move quicklyenough for him, he lifted me until I was on my knees. Justin roughly took my hands and placed them on the headboard in front of us, shoulder-width apart.

"Tenerli lì,"he said.

Keep them there.

I nodded.

His voice and his accent and his tone and his commands…I was so hot, I thought the smoke detectors might go off.

"I don't want you to stay quiet tonight," Justin told me, breaking our usual rule. Alec would always complain if we were too loud. "I want you to scream until your lungs burn. Let them know how good I can make you feel. Make everyone know."

"I can do that," I panted.

His hand trailed down my back, pushing me down so that I arched a little. He slinked his long fingers over my skin, creating lanes of pure fire in their wake.

"So soft…" I heard him whisper. His hands were now trailing over my butt and went between my crack. I shuddered. Lower, he went until he was again between my legs. He spread them wide. I clutched the headboard so hard, my nails screamed out in pain.

Justin's tongue was wet and hot all at the same time as he licked me slowly. I was already drenched with my arousal, but he created more of a flood. I couldn't take it. I tried to back up so that his tongue would be inside me, but he kept using the pad, creating slow torturous movements.

"You're always ready for me." His speech was mumbled, but I heard.

"It's a blessing and a curse." I whimpered when he curled his tongue upwards and grazed my clit with the tip. He didn't add fingers, and I was afraid to ask him to. Another clit brushing and I was done.

I shook from pleasure. My whole body was exhausted, and I wanted to collapse, but his hands were suddenly on mine, grasping the headboard. I didn't have any time to recover before he was fully inside of me. He was solid. Pure rock, filling me to capacity, and I screamed out just how good it felt.

"Louder, Selena," he said in a dominating tone.

I wasn't ashamed or embarrassed to shout. His hands pushed onto mine with each thrust of his hips. He filled me again and again and again…taking me from behind. Justin was deep inside,and each time he entered, I would cry out in ecstasy.

The headboard hit the wall and started to creak. I think he wanted to break it. I wouldn't mind if he did.

Justin spread my legs even wider as we both neared our finish. He knew my body so well that we didn't even have to talk about out impending orgasms. We were always in sync. It took three more thrusts before I was done. I couldn't hold on any longer and quivered my release.

I couldn't scream anymore, so my voice sounded kind of like a bird being strangled as I told him just how much I loved him. He came shortly after, pushing into me one last time. I could feel wetness…everywhere. And I liked it. I wanted more. I craved it.

His hard chest hit my back and he pulled my hair to one side, placing kisses on my neck. "Did I hurt you?"

I shook my head. "Was I loud enough?"

He chuckled darkly. "Yes. I think they now know just how much hard I can fuck you."

"Is that all this was, just to prove your sexual authority to your brothers?"

"Among other things, yes," he replied candidly.

"I don't mind that at all." I knew I should, but I didn't.

Our hands were still on the headboard, because I didn't think I could physically lift them away. We were forever cemented to that spot.

"I want to pull out of you, but…I can't. I refuse to." He pushed his hips deeper. I could feel him reaching as far as he could and it was gloriously painful.

"I think we woke everyone up."

"I hope so, Selena. Those lungs of yours could probably wake the dead. I liked hearing that," he said with urgency. "We should rest. We have a long day tomorrow."

With what sounded like pain, he slid out of me. I still couldn't move.

Justin was off of the bed, but came back a couple of seconds later. "I've got you, Selena." He pried off each of my fingers from the wood, but they still felt stiff.

He cradled me in his arms and turned me over to lie on my back.

"I didn't mean to be so rough." He sounded remorseful.

"Yes you did." I laughed softly. "That's okay, though."

I saw him take a wet washcloth and wipe down my thighs, which were still shakingHe then took the material and placed it between my legs, letting the warmness heat me up. It felt incredibly good. He ran it up and down my slit, not sexually, but caringly.

"I should have constrained myself." Justin continued to rub me clean. His fingers were so light on my sensitive areas, nothing like his touch a couple minutes ago. The heat was incredibly soothing. "You'll be sore in the morning."

"Stop it." I lifted myself up with as much force as I had left. His hand didn't move from between my legs. "I wanted more."

He grinned in the darkness. "Then you shall have it, but not tonight. Right now, we sleep."

Justin kissed my forehead and laid me onto the sheets. I felt him climb in next to me, his chest, once again, hitting my back. His arm draped over me protectively.

"Goodnight, Selena." His lips touched my head one last time.

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kissunday · 4 days ago

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aspoiler utc

ALL I READ WAS “Long legs, short shorts, exposed midriff, leaning against a car, giggling. Leaning out the window is Rin, smiling and laughing along. you blink a couple times, just to make sure you're seeing things correctly. It’s been two days and Rin is already moving on from the kiss you shared.” AND I SCREAMED. then i had to cleanse myself by scrolling on tiktok. i have to reread this later

DRIVEN BY ADRENALINE suna rintarou. chapter 007 ; long legs, short shorts.

২ 𓂅 ࣪ ೨ ; 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 (596)

২ 𓂅 ࣪ ೨ ; 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 (when i was writing this i was lowkey cringing so um yeah, short, car crashes, angst AGAIN, running away, miscommunication but thats not revealed yet LMAO)

You don’t know why you showed up here. When you first came with Runa, you felt out of place. You were embarrassed for no reason and you were scared. And that was with Runa.

Now, though, you walk past the cars, alone. There are less people looking at you because now they know you’re part of Rin’s crowd, but some of them whisper as you walk past. You swallow hard and put your head down.

You’re not even sure if Rin is racing tonight, but there’s no doubt he’ll be here. You make sure to steer clear of where he’s usually parked. Runa had left before you this evening, so she doesn’t know you’re here either. This is a bad idea and you know it.

You walk past the start line and a familiar laugh catches your attention. Without even meaning to— or wanting to— your head turns in the direction. The sight before you makes you want to throw up.

Long legs, short shorts, exposed midriff, leaning against a car, giggling. Leaning out the window is Rin, smiling and laughing along. you blink a couple times, just to make sure you're seeing things correctly. It’s been two days and Rin is already moving on from the kiss you shared.

Hot tears sting at the back of your eyes. You look away just as fast as you had looked at them. You should leave. You don’t want to be here anymore. But.

Rin revs his engine and you peek back over at him. The girl he was talking to is gone, now standing in front of the cars, holding a piece of fabric. You stop walking and wait.

The girl brings her hand down and both of the cars are off. You don’t recognize the other car— lime green with yellow stripes on the side of it. You think it’s tacky, but as it takes off, you can’t help but be impressed at its speed.

And then, seemingly, the world begins to move in slow motion. You can almost hear the way Rin shifts the gear stick. He turns a corner too fast and—

His car hits the wall. Full speed.

The gasp you let out is loud, but muffled in your own ears. Murmurs spread throughout the crowd. The damn that was holding your tears back burst. One hot tear slides down your cheek.

There’s a group of people rushing towards the car and you think you see Runa, but you can’t move. The car door opens and Rin stumbles out, cradling his arm to his chest. He turns and looks back at his car— his beloved car. The side of it is totaled, smoke coming from the side of it.

The crowd of people surround him, a ways away from the car. Your feet are like cement blocks. There’s a feeling coursing through your body, making you tingle. You can’t quite place it. Fear? Worry? Horror? All of the above, you think.

You glance around you, noticing you’re basically alone, and your chest aches. You wipe your hands off on the pants of your legs, letting out a shaky breath.

You need to leave. You have to leave. You look back at the car crash one last time before you turn. Staring right into your soul, is Rin. A shiver shoots down your spine.

You turn and run. Your chest heaves, your legs burn, but you don’t stop. You can’t stop.

Runa was right. Rin’s lifestyle is dangerous. He’s a street racer. Everytime he gets in that car, he may never come back out.

২ 𓂅 ࣪ ೨ ; 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

@sahrii , @cherrysurf , @heartmaddie , @jpegarchives , @vertejay

@tiramizuloz , @gumims , @mybelovedvi , @chaotic-neutral-ig , @usbrous

@iheartamora , @iluv-ace , @xavlyzn , @reocidal , @mysticstrawberryballoon

@h0n3y-l3m0n05 , @aethersluvrr , @smiithys , @rriwyu , @twiishaa

@kissunday , @ilovejeansosomuch , @anqelkoz, @massacremars

#vidia’s recs #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! suna x reader #haikyuu suna rintarou #suna rintarou x reader #ALL I READ HE MOVED ON AND I WAS LIKE NO?#i mwan obviously no but like #😢#chapter five i miss you #driven by adrenaline chapter five save me driven by adrenaline chapter five

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lifebooksloves · 8 years ago

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SINGE by Aly Martinez

Life, Books, & Loves Presents: SINGE by Aly Martinez

SINGE is the first book in an ALL NEW smokin-hot standalone series by Aly Martinez NOW AVAILABLE!

Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2kfNgXh Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/2kfyRdL Nook: http://bit.ly/2kQyB5S Kobo: http://bit.ly/2kC4kru

Blurb

She was my nightmare. Every time I closed my eyes, I watched her fall into that inferno. Over and over, I failed to save her.

I hadn’t been able to reach her, and the guilt only burned hotter over time. Four years later, I was the unreachable one.

Heroes aren’t always saints. Sometimes, we’re nothing more than jaded sinners driven by sleepless nights and hearts full of darkness.

And then I met her. She was a dreamer who managed to soothe my scars and heal my wounds.

But, as the flames closed in around us, I feared I wasn’t the right man to save her. That is until I realized she was the one woman I’d burn the world down to protect.

Chapter One Jude

“Tomorrow, it’s on me,” I said, standing up off the barstool. Behind the bar, Carmen waggled her eyebrows, seductively calling out, “Funny, I could be on you tonight if you stayed awhile longer.” I laughed at her innuendo and tossed her a wink. “I gotta get home, babe. Seven a.m. comes way too early.” “Well, offer’s on the table,” she purred. It always was with her. And, if I wasn’t careful, I’d eventually take her up on it. Not that sleeping with Carmen wouldn’t have been good. But, when you find a cheap bar only five minutes from your house, you don’t fuck that up by dipping your cock into the bartender. “Later, Carmen,” I called, pushing the door open and heading to my car. I wasn’t out of the parking lot before I heard, “Officer Levitt? We’ve got an alarm going off in Park Hill. You mind taking a look on your way home?” Banging my head back against the headrest, I groaned to myself. Park Hill was about as “on my way home” as swinging past California on the way to Maine. Switching my radio to my other hand, I complained, “I’m off the clock, Jocelyn.” I had been for several hours, even if I hadn’t made it home yet. She laughed. “I’m sorry, but you’re the only one remotely close. I had to send two cars out to the Laslows’ to break up another argument between Cam and his old man.” “They at it again?” I asked. “Apparently, Cam told Lindsey he didn’t want the baby. Lindsey told his dad. Old Man Laslow lost his mind.” I chuckled, putting my blinker on and then doing a U-turn in the middle of the empty road. “Christ. I bet he did. I know the man’s seventy-five, but I sure as hell wouldn’t want to go toe-to-toe with him.” “I’m with you on that. So…you gonna head out to Park Hill?” she asked in a sugary-sweet tone. I grumbled deep in my chest. “You’re gonna owe me some of that banana bread for this. I missed it the other day when you brought it up to the station.” “I don’t owe you anything.” She giggled. “However, as a personal thank-you from the state of Illinois, Park County, and the owners of Park Hill, I’ll bring you in a loaf on Friday. Deal?” “Deal. I’m en route now.” “Stay safe, and radio in with your report.” “Yes, ma’am,” I replied, knowing exactly how much thirty-year-old Jocelyn loved being called ma’am by a twenty-five-year-old man. “Don’t you—” “Gotta go.” I turned the volume down to mute her, grinning to myself as I flipped my lights and siren on. I’d been a cop for two years. And, in that time, I’d been out to the privately owned Park Hill estate at least a dozen times. It wasn’t unusual for the alarm on the mansion to get triggered. It never amounted to anything. The expansive estate was on the very edge of the county, and trouble didn’t usually travel that far out. More often than not, a bird at a window or a bumbling new member of the grounds crew would accidentally trip the alarm. Truth was, no one actually lived in Park Hill. The owners visited sporadically. But, for the majority of the time, it remained empty. Some minutes later, I cut my siren as I pulled up to the entrance. The cold air assaulted me as I stepped out of my patrol car with my flashlight in hand and aimed at the keypad on the massive security gate that blocked the driveway off. That damn thing alone had to have cost more than I’d make in a lifetime. Forget about the house inside. The smell of wood burning in a fireplace wafted through the night air. I guessed someone was home for a visit. I typed in the emergency code on the gate panel and then climbed back in my car and made my way down the tree-lined driveway. I’d spent the day on patrol, and, with the exception of some minor vandalism across town, it had been a slow one. Though, in the blink of an eye, that would change. Along with my entire life. “Oh fuck,” I breathed as the main house came into view on the top of the hill. After throwing my car in park, I jumped on the radio at my shoulder. I could barely get the words out as I slung my door open and took off at a dead sprint. “This is Officer Levitt! I need fire support at Park Hill immediately!” And then I froze as a wave of adrenaline crashed into me like a tsunami. An inferno roared in the night sky, but it was the small silhouette of a woman perched outside a third-floor window, smoke pouring out all around her, that knocked the breath out of me. My heart stopped, but my feet continued to pound against the pavement. Jocelyn’s voice caught me. “What’s going on?” “I need medical too!” I barked as I got closer. “The whole damn place is in flames and there’s a woman trapped!” The woman’s long, black hair blew out behind her like a battered flag whipping in a storm. I couldn’t make out her face or her skin color or even guess at her age for the black soot covering her, but her fear was unmistakable. And unforgettable. “Hang on!” I yelled up to her. “Oh my God!” she screamed before it turned into a fit of coughing. “Help me!” “Hang on! Don’t let go!” Frantically, I searched the perimeter for a way in, but it wasn’t only her house that was on fire. Flames were encompassing her. The yard and all the surrounding flowerbeds. Top to bottom. The first and second floors were completely engulfed, and if the sound of shattering windows was any indication, it was quickly making its way up to the third floor—to her. “No! Don’t leave me!” she screamed, panic thick in her garbled voice, as I started around the side of the house. A wall of heat stopped me in my tracks. Throwing an arm up, I did my best to block my face while scanning the building for any possible entry—or, in her case, exit. But there wasn’t a surface of that house that wasn’t ablaze. Except the roof. Son of a bitch. I spoke into the radio. “I need an ETA on fire.” Jocelyn replied, “They’re on their way. Five minutes out.” I didn’t have one minute, much less five. Fuck. My pulse quickened, sending blood thundering in my ears. I was a cop. I’d trained for chaos. I should have been able to come up with a solution for a situation like this, but they didn’t teach you how to conquer the impossible at the Academy. And, as I took inventory of the flames dancing beneath her, I knew that was exactly what I was up against. My gut wrenched as I helplessly sped back around the house. She appeared almost childlike, hovering barefoot on that narrow brick ledge, but her long-sleeve top and her loose-fitting pants clung to the body of a woman. Jesus Christ! Where was that fucking fire truck? “Is anyone else in the house?” I yelled up to her. Not that I could have helped them, either. Short of running into a burning building, on what would surely be a suicide mission, there was not one thing I could do. And didn’t that little reality feel like a wrecking ball to the chest. “No!” she cried, a loud sob lodging in her throat. It turned into more coughing, her body shaking violently with every heave. I fisted my hands at my sides as my anxiety spiraled higher. “Please. Do something!” she begged. I ground my teeth together and once again glanced around as if a water hose and a ladder were going to suddenly appear out of nowhere. “Hang tight, okay? Fire trucks are on their way.” “I can’t hold on much longer!” she cried. “Yes, you can,” I demanded. “I…I think I need to jump,” she coughed out. I assessed the massive fire below her. I’d never be able to reach her before it swallowed her. But there was no way I’d be able to stand by and watch her burn. No. If she jumped off that ledge, she was going to get us both killed. “Don’t you dare,” I barked. “Don’t even think about it. Two minutes. They’ll be here.” “I…I can’t.” “Two minutes,” I repeated. “Hold—” Suddenly, a window to her left exploded, shooting glass and flames in all directions. I covered my face as she screamed in a paralyzing mixture of fear and agony. It cut me so deep that I knew I’d bear the scars for the rest of my life, and that had nothing to do with the glass and everything to do with the heavy weight of my failure already lingering in the smoke-filled air. When I opened my eyes again, I caught a glimpse of orange flickering in the window behind her. Panic built in my chest. “You need to move!” I yelled. She shook her head and continued to cough and cry. But it wasn’t an option. I couldn’t help her. Though I damn sure refused to watch her die. “Please. Just listen to me.” I swallowed hard. “You can’t stay there.” I looked to the roof. Sending her higher seemed wrong and went against everything I’d learned in my limited fire training. But fuck, my options were having her jump into a conflagration or scale up the side of a building in hopes of buying us the precious minutes needed for the fire department to arrive. Drawing in a smoke-filled breath, I made a decision that would haunt me for the rest of my life. “You need to climb up to the roof.” “I can’t!” she shrieked. My stomach twisted, but I gentled my voice. “Look, I know you’re scared. But I’m right here. I’ll help guide you up, but, sweetheart, it’s bearing down on you. You gotta move, and I mean now.” She choked on a mouthful of smoke as she attempted to look over her shoulder. “You’re going to be fine. I swear to you,” I lied. “But you have to move.” “I’m not going to make it!” She had to have yelled it in order for me to hear her, but I felt her defeat slither over my skin like a whispered goodbye. I took a long step forward, too focused on her to feel the heat singeing my skin. “Yes, you are!” I declared. “Move your ass up to the roof and we’ll both be out of here in time for breakfast.” Her gaze landed on mine, tears forging paths down her soot-covered cheeks, her disbelief obvious even from yards away. “Are you sure?” It was a ridiculous question. It wasn’t like I could make any guarantees. It was fire, for God’s sake. But that didn’t stop me from covering my heart with my palm and vowing, “I swear on my life you’re going to make it through this.” Her hesitation was evident, but with one last sob, she inched her small body farther out onto the narrow ledge, reaching the tips of her shaking fingers out for the windowsill above her. “Good girl,” I praised, a fraction of relief washing over me. And then I sucked in a sharp breath as one of her shaking legs slipped out from under her. “No!” I yelled. On instinct, I rushed toward the flames, my arms stretched out in the air as though I could catch her. A scalding heat blistered my face and forced me to stop, but the real pain was in my chest. I watched in horror for what felt like a lifetime as she fought to right herself, her dainty arms flailing like a wounded butterfly frantically trying to catch the wind. But there was none to be found. My heart lurched into my throat, and my breath seized in my lungs. And then a deep, guttural sound tore through me, shredding me from the inside out, as I watched her fall.

I woke up in a cold sweat. It wasn’t exactly something new. I’d been dreaming of Butterfly for over four years. She always flew directly into the flames, screaming as I stood helpless to save her. Swinging my legs over the side of the bed, I cradled my head in my hands and tried to pretend I was okay. That wasn’t exactly something new, either. I could still feel the heat on the back of my neck. My lungs were still thick with smoke. The pressure in my chest never left me. The distance while I was living in LA had helped. But, in the week since I’d been back in Illinois, I’d woken up every morning at that blazing house. I didn’t even have to be asleep for the memories to assault me. I should have gone back to sleep. It was my first day at my new job, and the last thing I needed was to show up haggard and sleep-deprived. But, as I’d learned over the years, another fiery butterfly awaited me on the other side of REM. No way I was volunteering for that. I pushed myself off the bed and tugged a T-shirt on, preparing to head down to the hotel gym with hopes that I could outrun the mental fog that had been hovering over me since I’d returned. There was a reason I’d thrown all of my shit in my car and driven as far as I could all those years ago. Yet, somehow, I’d come full circle. But I’d come back a different man. At least that’s what I’d told myself as the deafening roar of doubt had overwhelmed me the moment I’d driven across the state line. Regardless, it had been time to go home. I’d been gone too long. Or, as I’d decided as I’d passed the exit to Park County, not nearly long enough.

About the Author

Born and raised in Savannah, Georgia, Aly Martinez is a stay-at-home mom to four crazy kids under the age of five- including a set of twins. Currently living in South Carolina, she passes what little free time she has reading anything and everything she can get her hands on, preferably with a glass of wine at her side.

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