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saiilorstars · 1 year ago

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Ch. 28: The Last Hurrah

[Story Masterlist] // [Aitana’s Masterlist]

Fandom: Criminal Minds // Pairing: Spencer Reid x OFC

Taglist: @ocappreciationtag @arrthurpendragon @anotherunreadblog @maaaaarveeeeel @stareyedplanet @averyhotchner @foxesandmagic @kmc1989

If you’d like to be a part of Aitana’s taglist, please let me know!

Also available on Fanfic ○ Ao3 ○ Wattpad

It was both curious and blatantly concerning for the team to be gathered around the conference table at such an early time. Penelope was the last to arrive and, unsurprisingly, was the most anxious of the group.

"I didn't get a file sent to me," she said first instead of her usual morning greeting. "Aitana didn't call me either, I...did a case go directly to Hotch?"

"Don't know," Rossi said, "But he's in his office with Serrano right now."

"What!?" Penelope practically shrieked, startling the entire group.

"Probably just talking," Seaver said for her comfort. "A case, you know?"

Penelope couldn't see it as clearly as Seaver. "No, no, a meeting this early? When's the last time this happened?"

Not surprising either, it was Spencer who answered. "Three years, 8 months ago."

The others exchanged glances with similar confusion.

"And what happened?" Seaver was the brave one to ask.

"Gideon left." Spencer knew the weight of his words for the others. It was his first thought when he got Hotch's message and it did not fade when he saw Aitana in Hotch's office either. They both seemed very grim and the last time something like that happened, somebody left the team.

Aitana hadn't given anyone a clue about what she had decided in relation to her position at the BAU but they all knew that she finally had her evaluation with Hotch a couple days ago. Who's to say that this meeting wasn't to announce her departure from the team?

~ 0 ~

"You understand that I don't support this decision?" Hotch looked directly at Aitana across his desk. He had tried coming up with a kinder way to say what had been decided over his head but it didn't matter what he said, Aitana understood.

"I get it," she assured him twice before Hotch felt some kind of guilt-release. "I mean...this has already happened before, right?" Hotch nodded silently. "They did it to JJ and she was way more qualified than I was. What did I really expect?"

"If I can help to change the decision, I'll try. They don't fool me," Hotch shook his head. "This is a sugar-coated ultimatum. Either you go work for them or—"

"I have some higher-up breathing down my shoulder for staying with a half job posting I'm not qualified to do," Aitana nodded. "Yeah, I got that too."

"Like I said, I'll do my best to—"

"Please don't," Aitana cut Hotch off. "The last thing I want is for anyone to get into trouble because of me." She also knew that his intervention wouldn't really be much help. His efforts to get JJ back to the BAU had not exactly gone so well and even though he was still technically trying, the efforts had begun to wane.

Aitana saw no point in continuing the conversation. Beside the fact that it was awkward as hell, she needed time to process. "Can I...go to my office for a moment?"

"Of course," Hotch motioned her towards the door. "I'll be talking to the team about the changes."

"Okay, I'll be there in a bit." Aitana rose from her chair and walked out of the office in a slow, almost monotonous, manner. She had a lot to process indeed.

~0~

Hotch walked into the conference room going straight to the point. The team had to be making up dozens of assumptions over their early meeting so it was better to just cut straight to it. "The Director called a meeting last night to discuss budgets."

"They skipped over Strauss?" Rossi asked, taken by surprise.

"She's away. The Bureau is facing a lot of changes and this unit is no exception. Over the next few weeks, each of you is going to be asked if you'd like to stay with the unit."

Penelope's eyebrows raised, her response coming out in a tumble. "Why wouldn't we?" She wanted to ask so badly why Hotch was even starting without Aitana present. If she thought of it, then the others had to have already asked themselves the same thing.

"There are other options for you out there," Hotch answered her plain and simple. "And while I want the unit to stay together, I understand completely if you want to see what the alternatives are."

"Have some of us already decided to leave?" Seaver asked and Penelope dared to think that she had done it to help her out. She almost mouthed a 'thank you' to Seaver.

"I'm not at liberty to discuss," Hotch cleverly said to avoid actually saying something conclusive.

Spencer, however, saw through the actual meaning. "So there is a change." Hotch met his gaze for only a second but it was enough to double confirm Spencer's assumption. It took very little to figure out where that change was happening.

"Morgan, there's renewed interest in you from the New York office," Hotch said, but Morgan almost scoffed.

"Nobody's called me."

"They will."

Morgan's expression turned incredulous fast. "That doesn't mean I'm gonna go."

Still peacefully calm, Hotch agreed. "Oh, I know."

"Are you staying here?"

"It's my intention," Hotch said, almost promising. "All I ask is if you are contacted by another division that you let me know."

There was a pause when Aitana stepped into the room. She could feel burning eyes with questions being thrown her way so she focused entirely on Hotch. "I just got a call. Virginia State police believe they've uncovered a serial killer. They need us at Zacha Road and Route 7 as soon as possible."

Hotch thanked her for the notice. "Morgan, you and Dave get out there."

"What about this?" Penelope quickly asked when the pair of agents started getting up to leave. This conversation wasn't even remotely close to being finished.

"We can talk about it later," Hotch said, getting up as well.

"I'm going to make a few calls," Aitana announced as she was already turning to walk out. Clear avoidance tactic,

Penelope was left to cross gazes with Spencer and Seaver because Hotch had gotten out of there quickly as well. She was helpless and possibly frightened. "What's happening?"

Neither agent had an answer for her.

~0~

Paige Hawley

Jake.

The case would turn out to go deeper than it being a lone serial killer. Aitana knew that the moment she spotted a familiar face walking into the bullpen. She had secluded herself in her office while she worked through the pending paperwork on her desk. There wasn't much the team could do until Rossi and Morgan examined the crime scene. Aitana expected Penelope to pop into the office soon enough and she had yet to come up with a good explanation for the questions Penelope would no doubt ask her.

When Penelope eventually did peek her head inside the office, it wasn't to ask her questions. "Hotch wants us in the conference room."

A life saver, thought Aitana. It would buy her a bit more time. "Okay, let's go." She got up from her seat, dumping a folder over her paperwork.

"Well hey," Penelope grabbed hold of Aitana's arm. "Is there something you need to tell us?"

Poor thing was full of concern that it made Aitana feel terrible. It's not your fault, she had to remind herself.

Aitana put on a small smile for her friend. "Nothing yet." She gingerly removed Penelope's hand from her arm and led the way out of the office.

Yet. Penelope held onto the word tightly. It was a warning that something was already coming.

SSA Andi Swan,the head of the Domestic Trafficking Task Force, was waiting for the BAU to gather in the conference room. She'd been notified of the corpses the team had found and as such, she was certain that it was one of her guys responsible.

"Do you know who did this?" Seaver asked her. Even a small guess could help them move faster.

Unfortunately, Andi shook her head. "I've been 2 steps behind an organization that abducts college kids throughout the U. S."

"How long have you been tracking them?"

"Three years." The weariness in Andi's tone was palpable. "But this is the first time there's been an identifiable body."

"So you think this is their work?" asked Spencer.

"It's definitely their type. Stressed-out, vulnerable kids. They're all from good families, making them low-risk for abduction. Young innocents are worth more money. And they're harder to lure, so they hold on to them for a longer period of time."

All the information was more repulsive to hear rather than when she would just read about it. Aitana couldn't remember ever doing a job so close to human trafficking. "How many victims are they holding at once?"

"That's hard to say. But from what I can tell, there's a lot of turnover. Customers don't want to see the same faces twice. We don't think they travel with more than a handful of victims at one time. They hunt all over the country. All they need is a car. They might be low-tech, but they're organized. And profitable. The rumor is that they hold events for 2 days in metropolitan areas and then they disappear."

Penelope dreaded to ask knowing what the answer would probably be, but her curiosity got the best of her. "What kind of events?"

"Where top-paying customers can do things like this—" Andi made a gesture to their evidence boards holding the photographs of their two victims, "—and worse to the victims. It seems impossible to trace. We study their behavior. They're not a good breed, but they're still human. They make a few mistakes. We've also recently established an undercover unit."

"Wait, how can you infiltrate them?" Seaver paused to think. "Wouldn't your agents have to commit a crime to be accepted as a customer?"

Andi nodded. "Exactly. That's why we can't pose as buyers. The entire system is set up to protect the customers, but there's no way we can trace them from that end."

"Your agents go in as targets," said Hotch. "Do you have anybody under now?"

"Locally a few. They're still establishing the backstories. They might be able to help. I'll call." Andi excused herself to go do that. In a matter of minutes she would come to find out that one of her U.C.s had disappeared, prompting an emergency check in from her and Hotch.

The remaining agents were to go through the missing people cases until Morgan and Rossi returned from the morgue.

Penelope came into the room with a fresh new load of files in her arms. "Here are the missing coeds since 2009." She let them drop unceremoniously on the table beside Seaver's spot, making her flinch.

"Wow…" Her eyes widened at the big pile. She looked over to Spencer for some help.

"Yeah, uh, we still need to narrow this down…" He moved over to grab the first file and give it a quick skim. "Let's look at last-known locations. Maybe there's an overlap."

"They're from all over the place," Penelope informed rather tersely.

Seaver grabbed the next file to give a skim as well. "These guys hunt in target-rich environments. Clubs, malls, that kind of thing."

"What are Morgan and Rossi finding?" Spencer asked Penelope. He noticed her staring a bit too hard at the table. He could only wonder how many things were running through her mind at the moment.

"Uh…" She had to rack her brain to remember what Morgan had told her earlier. "A lot of mud on the car and the victims."

"Mud? Did it rain here?"

"No, not here. South. Morgan has a theory that based on the gas mileage, they must have filled up within 70 miles of the accident."

"Gotcha. How many gas stations you find?"

"42."

"How'd you narrow that down?"

Penelope frowned. "I didn't."

Spencer paused to give her a look. Now that was concerning. "Why not?"

"I didn't have any more parameters."

Even more concerning.

Seaver thought the same thing. "That never stopped you before."

Penelope seemed to get the gist of their hints and straightened herself up. "I'll be right back..." She bumped into Aitana at the doorway and while Aitana tried to greet her, Penelope moved right around her and kept going.

Aitana blinked and looked after her for a second. "She's upset with me, isn't she?" She sighed. She should have seen that coming.

"Don't take it personal," Spencer said, "She really doesn't like change."

Aitana turned around and shot him a smile. "Running theme amongst you guys, huh?"

Spencer dove his attention back to the file in his hands. Yes, yes it was.

"Is there something we should know about?" Seaver cautiously asked Aitana. She had seen practically everyone bite their lip to keep themselves from asking the scary question. She couldn't do it.

With a sigh, Aitana nodded. "You guys are going to figure it out anyways. I just don't really know how to tell Penelope. Or...everyone actually."

"You're leaving," Spencer said, trying to be as casual as he could about it. Like stated, he did not like change either.

Aitana sighed again, deeper. "It looks that way, yeah."

"It looks?" Seaver repeated, her expression twisting with confusion. "What do you mean?"

Even Spencer looked up from his file, actually lowering it to study Aitana. She seemed more upset than anyone else and that wasn't the behavior of someone who wanted to transfer. He felt a twinge of something in his heart. "What's happening?"

Aitana teeth dug deep into her bottom lip. "They want to move me," she said. It was difficult talking about it knowing it was already in the works. "It's like Hotch said, the directors are looking to make cuts in units. They're looking at everyone's records including mine. They saw my history and they think I would be better suited in the Human Resources department." She was sure that she had the same stare of shock as Spencer and Seaver on her face when Hotch told her the news earlier in the morning. "I'm one of the few FBI agents who managed to come back from WPP and, apparently, successfully reintegrate enough to continue working in the same field." A success story is what she was reduced to.

"What? So they...they just want to move you like that?" Seaver asked. That was all well reasoned by the directors but what would be the point?

Aitana nodded. "They want me to work with the FBI academy. The new agents coming in should have someone with firsthand experience of the hardships of the job." Essentially, they wanted her to weed out the agents who wouldn't be cut out for the FBI. "I'm meeting with the head tomorrow."

"They're not giving you a choice," Spencer said, speaking from the unfortunate experience at the beginning of the year. They had done the same to JJ and now they were going after Aitana too.

"Technically they are," Aitana swallowed hard. This is the part she feared would gain her the disdain of the team, especially Penelope based on how she was already acting.

Spencer was curious. "What do you mean?"

"The BAU needs more profilers and since I technically have seniority than you," she made a quick point to Seaver, "They were willing to consider my switch of positions within the BAU as a full time profiler. Hotch had already asked me if I wanted the job but I wasn't sure back then. I am now. I don't know what possessed JJ to ask me to take over her job but now I'm glad that she did because I love it. What used to be hard for me is now one of the things I like to do. I like being closer to the families and you know what?" A laugh slipped out of her. "I love putting reporters in their places."

At that, both Spencer and Seaver would agree with her. She didn't earn her nickname for nothing.

"But if I became a full-time profiler, I would lose that connection. I can't be that close to a job I want while I work with something else. It would just be too much." She thought about it over she's over since the morning. Hotch told her she could still agree to be a profiler but the more thought, the less she wanted to do it. She was finally back to a point in her life where she was confident that she knew how to do her job and that she wanted to do it. She didn't have to work a job that was handed to her with a cautious hand because she might snap from her WPP days. She was more healed now than she had been at the beginning of the year.

"At least in the human resources department, I can talk to people kind of how I do here." She had to console herself somehow and this was the nicest thing she could see in the midst of all the gray. "They want me to weed out the 'weak ones' but there are no weak people. I can give them the tools that I didn't have when I first started."

"That's a really nice way of thinking," Seaver said. "You would've definitely helped me out." Role models were desperately needed within the academy. She had Rossi but he was hardly there. Someone needed to be looking out for the new students and she knew Aitana had the caring gene packed down.

"Thanks," Aitana said. "I just feel terrible that I...I have to go."

"It's not your fault," Spencer said. "Penelope will see that. I see it."

"So you guys aren't mad that I chose to leave?" Aitana looked between the pair with anxious eyes. "They gave me the option…"

"You stood your ground, that's the most important part," Seaver offered her a friendly smile.

"Yeah, I'm just so sorry they're doing this again," Spencer added. He couldn't possibly guess how much his input relieved Aitana. Even though they'd worked through their problems, she feared that he might be like Penelope in the end.

"You sure?" She had to ask just to fully get rid of her doubt.

Spencer nodded. "Of course. You felt like you needed to do the right thing."

"Yeah," Aitana exhaled. She leaned her hands on the top of a chair, gripping it so tight her knuckles were turning white. "I just hope it turns out okay." It was all she could do at this point.

~ 0 ~

"Using the club Renée went to as a template, there are potentially 63 others who were taken by the same offenders." Spencer was happy to give the files back to Penelope. It was tough to go through those files knowing they would only save a potential few of the missing people.

Seaver unknowingly shared the same sentiment. She handed back her share of files with a heavy sigh. "There's no way to know which ones are still alive."

Aitana quietly slid her share back as well. There were just no comments to coherently describe what she felt with this case. She could only hope they found a lot of victims still alive.

"Andi Swan," Morgan looked at the woman coming into the room with Hotch. "How you been?"

Andi could only bob her head. "Better. Thanks for helping out."

"Nice to see you again, Andi," Rossi shook hands with her next.

"What'd you find?" Hotch asked the pair.

"We tracked the driver to a gas station outside Culpepper," Morgan said. "He used a pay phone to call another one in the same town."

"So they're close. And careful."

Morgan nodded then glanced over to Andi. "What's their budget on location?"

"Not much. They pay cash, no questions asked. Security's top priority."

Aitana was sure that every time they asked Andi a question, things were worse than the previous answer. "So this guy's found a place to hold let's say a dozen victims? That means we're looking for a secluded spot in rural Virginia." A sour smile crossed her face. "That shouldn't be hard to find."

"I thought traffickers concentrated in port cities," said Rossi after a moment's thought over the rural locations.

"International ones do," Andi clarified. "Unfortunately, domestic traffickers abduct all over the country. It doesn't seem like they stay in one location long after an abduction. They move quickly and efficiently. My guess was in a nondescript car, and until this morning that was just a theory."

"Well they've lost their driver now, so they're in jeopardy," Penelope said, hoping that would spark some hope that they would be able to catch them on a mistake.

"They'll move out tonight," Andi said with all the certainty in the world.

Morgan was a bit more reluctant to fully believe it. "But they've got customers and victims lined up. They don't want to lose the money."

"And technically, their location hasn't been compromised yet," Aitana added, unknowingly following Penelope's hope path. "If they don't move tonight, we have a window of opportunity."

"She's right," Hotch said, eyes shifting to Andi. "You said Renee went to the local clubs, do you know which ones?"

Andi nodded. "She'd report back if anyone suspicious approached her. We followed the leads, nothing panned out."

"What was the last club?" Penelope asked, fingers wiggling over her keyboard.

"Scotty's in Georgetown." Andi held her breath while Penelope searched for the club. Too many things were running in her mind but the main one managed to slip through her lips. "If they find out she's an agent, she's dead."

"Penelope's incredibly fast at searching, she'll have something for us to narrow the search down," Aitana said, offering the blonde analyst a kind smile.

Penelope paused for a brief second to meet Aitana's gaze. Whatever frustration she held for Aitana dissipated with her kind words. It was almost frustrating how those big eyes of hers were just too sweet to be angry with.

"Let's discuss the leader," Hotch switched them while Penelope did her search. Their window of opportunity wouldn't last all night. "We need to look at this from the leader's point of view. A group like this requires a strong leader."

"Yeah, this guy's in charge of some unstable personalities," Morgan remarked. "Do you have any theories?"

Andi nodded. She had thousands of them but she narrowed them down to fit the situation. "I have always thought he led through fear. This guy can blackmail his whole team. Look at the progression of this network. They started abducting victims for sex and then adapted to killing."

"Because he saw the growth potential in his assets," Spencer said, a logical reason. "Instead of just disposing of them, he made it into a show."

"And that's why the victims are so young," Andi said. "The customers will pay top dollar to see them tortured."

"But the average guy doesn't have that kind of money laying around," Seaver said out of sheer common sense. Oftentimes, that was all they needed to get to the next point. "So they're successful. And incredibly deviant. That's their big secret. If it was revealed, they'd be ruined."

"But they still have criminally prove themselves to join the club," Aitana said, her expression scrunching with confusion. "How can they be upstanding citizens and still prove themselves to these people?"

There was a moment of silence while everyone considered the options.

"It could be a white-collar crime, like money laundering," Morgan thought first.

Hotch went with it and added: "That's often done through real estate. Garcia, who owned the clubs where the victims went missing?"

Penelope quickly opened a new tab to turn her search around. "Um, Bruce Harmon owns the club in Arizona."

"And in Ohio?"

"Bob Moore."

"And Scotty's in Georgetown?"

"Bob Moore is a partner in that."

There was the beginning of something.

"Do any of them own property in Virginia?" asked Hotch.

Penelope nodded fairly quickly. "Moore also is a partner in the development of a private facility."

"What happened to it?"

"It...looks like bad guys go through hardship, too," Penelope rolled her eyes. "Financiers pulled all the money out in 2009, so it's not anything."

Another something.

"What was it?" asked Rossi.

"It was supposed to be a tough-love rehab center, but now-" Penelope stopped when seh saw a photograph of the property, "Now it's just an abandoned factory in the middle of nowhere. With a lot of acreage and mud."

"How close to the gas station?" Morgan asked.

"Eight miles west of it."

They had the something.

"Let's go," Hotch ordered the group, though Andi was already on her way out.

"I'll gather the other divisions," Aitana said, feeling bittersweet once she realized this was the last time she would be doing any such thing for them. It actually hurt.

~ 0 ~

They were in stealth mode when they arrived at the building. There were no visible guards outside which just spoke volumes of the group's confidence in their solidarity. They divided themselves up into three different teams to take the various entry ways into the building.

Hotch would lead a handful of the S.W.A.T. team directly from the main entry of the building. Rossi and Morgan would lead through the back and Aitana and Seaver followed Andi through the maze of hallways from the side of the building. They had the true element of surprise in the situation and they would use it until they couldn't anymore.

Morgan would be the first to break the element of surprise but with Rossi's help, they were able to keep it under wraps. One by one, they all took down the guards without startling their predecessors.

Aitana came across a set of double-sliding doors. A big chain protected it so she stepped back and motioned one of the S.W.A.T. to break it down. As soon as they did, the others rushed inside. Cages lined either side of them and each one was filled with victims.

"Oh my God," Seaver was outright horrified. She froze in the middle of the aisle while the rest of the team swarmed past them to free the victims.

Aitana couldn't remember another moment that had caused Seaver such a deep emotion, and that was saying something considering everything they saw each day. "C'mon," she tugged the woman by the arm. "We got the victims, you can get the bastards paying for this crap."

Seaver nodded her head though her body seemed to shake. It was unnatural of her usual composure. She turned around and headed back in the direction they'd come in through.

Aitana would make a note to check up on her afterwards but right now her main priority were the victims. She was sure they would all need some type of medical attention. By the time she oversaw the victims' transfer from the building into either ambulances or cars, the others had gotten all the "customers" in handcuffs and packed into the backs of cars.

Hotch and Andi were together when Aitana stopped by. They had just witnessed Renee Matlin being taken in an ambulance. She was beaten but she would make it.

"Please tell me we got everyone?" she asked the pair.

As if to answer her question, Seaver walked by with one last handcuffed man. "This is the last one," she told them.

"How many arrests?" asked Hotch.

"Eighteen."

"And 7 victims rescued," Aitana added, meeting Seaver's gaze. It was a win tonight.

They heard loud screech of tires and in the next moment, a car burst from the building.

"Hey, stop that vehicle!" Hotch yelled hte order, prompting a series of gunfire to take shots at the fleeing car.

They managed to stop the car not too far from them. A swarm of them ran to arrest whoever was behind the wheel. However, they found the driver dead from one of their bullets and one more girl in the backseat.

Rossi helped her out of the car. She was in tears and seemed rattled by everything.

"She needs medical attention," Rossi called, already making way for them with the girl.

Seaver made a hurry to inspect the rest of the car for any other victims the unsub might have taken with him. Aitana came around the back to see Seaver opening the trunk. There was no one. No one else was in the car.

"Hey Hotch?" Aitana called, leading Hotch and Andi to come over. "I may be off here but...that guy behind the wheel...he only took one girl?"

That was beyond weird. These people didn't typically care for victims if they crossed into being a hassle.

"Seven victims," Seaver said, eyebrows knitting together. "Left in the cages while the customers made a run for it."

"No, no, these guys don't…" Andi shook her head, "They just move on, they don't…"

Hotch realized it first." Renee was last seen with a brunette. It's her. DAVE!" He yelled seconds before they heard a gunshot.

Rossi stood in his spot, completely stunned to see the dead girl on the ground. Morgan lowered his gun and walked over to Rossi. The quickness was sometimes...just too quick.

~ 0 ~

When the group returned, Spencer and Penelope were still in the conference room putting away their evidence into boxes. Spencer noticed the way Morgan was walking in with his right arm held a bit too close to himself.

"What happened to you?"

"That guy was huge," Morgan muttered.

"Seriously. You should start working out." Spencer cracked a smile at Morgan's reaction, the latter wasn't very amused.

"Oh, you got jokes now?"

"Mhm!"

"Boys," Penelope scolded the pair, or at least tried to. She failed with her overwhelming concern for everyone who'd gone out.

"What is it, kid?" Rossi had noticed Seaver staring a bit too contemplating at the files on the table that had yet to be put away.

The young agent shrugged her shoulders. "We only rescued 7 victims today." She picked up the decent size of piles. "What about the rest of these?" She didn't understand why this was hitting her more than the other cases she dealt with. Seeing the files, holding them, just irked her. Why was the pile so heavy? Why couldn't it be smaller? Thinner?

"It's a never ending cycle," Aitana said as if she'd been reading Seaver's mind.

"I'm not sure I like it," Seaver said, surprising herself and the others. She carefully set the pile back on the table, her eyes lingering on them with another thought.

"Good work, everybody," Hotch said upon coming in. "Go home and get some rest. Nobody needs to come in till 9:00." He turned to leave but paused to amend his timing, "...:30."

"We were supposed to talk about the meeting!" Penelope exclaimed, stopping Hotch for a second.

He didn't say anything, merely glanced at Aitana. 'It's your call' he was basically saying.

Aitana inwardly sighed. Yes, yes it was and she had already made the decision. She had to go through with it now. "I got it," she assured him. "I'll...handle it." He nodded and continued his way out.

"Handle what?" Penelope asked, her lips close to forming a pout.

Aitana turned back to face them. "Um, I'll be transferring to the Human Resources department." Before Penelope could anything, Aitana quickly added: "I didn't ask to be transferred but it's happening."

"They're doing it again?" frowned Morgan.

"It's different," Aitana promised him. "I know what happened to JJ and she didn't have a choice but I technically did. They want profilers and I've recently reached the conclusion that I like being a liaison. I like being both and the directors don't want that from me."

"But they want you for something," Rossi caught onto her choice of words. She should've known better than to try to be subtle.

She had to nod. "I'm a success story to them right now. I came back from the WPP and I'm still working as an FBI agent. I'm the person they want to use to call new agents into the academy. They also want me to pick the ones I see with potential."

"So it's not because you didn't want to be a profiler—the directors want to use your story," Morgan was disgusted. Plain and entirely disgusted.

"Can't we...can't we fight? Do something?" Penelope's stomach churned as her recent behavior came back to gnaw at her head. Oh, she'd been terrible!

"Yeah, maybe we can reverse their decision," Seaver said. She herself wasn't supposed to be at the BAU after graduation and yet they hadn't touched her.

Aitana shrugged her shoulders. Her teeth chewed deep into her bottom lip. "I would want nothing more than that but I think right now there's nothing I can do. I don't want to be just a profiler and I know it's stupid, possibly childish that I'm leaving rather than taking what they offered—"

"It's not," Spencer said, giving her a sharp look. She had to remember why she'd made the decision in the first place. "You can't be something you don't want to be. I think we can all understand that…?" He looked around the room to make sure they were all agreeing with him.

They were.

"Doesn't mean I won't try to get you back," Penelope warned, "They already took JJ from us, I am not letting them take away my sweet Sprinkles!" She hurried over to encase Aitana in a big hug.

The brunette chuckled. "Does this mean you're not upset with me anymore?"

"Oh honey, I am so sorry!" Penelope broke into a fit of apologies and how she would never let Aitana get distant from them. It was too sweet and very Penelope.

"Hey, is anyone hungry?" Spencer asked the group.

Seaver was quick to answer with a hand on her stomach. "Starving!"

"There's this super good Indian restaurant. It's a little ways away, but it's open 24 hours and they have amazing chicken tandoori."

"Ooh, that sounds good," Aitana said, eyes flickering to Penelope still holding her in a massive hug. "Since we're still attached, you wanna go?"

The blonde nodded. "Yup!"

"Okay, then let's start turning. I gotta go to the office first."

"Okay!" Penelope started turning them for the door and produced an awkward hobble with Aitana that had the others shaking their heads with laughter.

"Looks like you've been replaced in the favorites department," Rossi said to Morgan.

"Yeah. A noble loss," Morgan agreed.

#ocapp #allaboutocs #ochub #criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid imagines #spencer reid fics #spencer reid x oc #criminal minds fics #criminal minds imagines #cm fics #cm imagines #criminal minds ocs #cm #oc: aitana serrano #fic: against all odds

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thebluemallet · 2 years ago

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My Top 10 Favorite Moments From Bridgerton Season 2, Episode 2: "Off to the Races"

It has officially been one year since Season 2, so please enjoy my upcoming series of posts about my favorite moments from each episode (and ignore the fact that I never finished doing this for Season 1). My favorite moments in no particular order (except maybe chronological):

10- Shave and a Haircut (Two Bits)

The back and forth between Anthony and Benedict is gold. Anthony is being his usual, brooding, calculating self. Benedict is just waiting for all of Anthony's plans to get derailed by the sissster! And probably the most quoted line from the trailer is in here and I love it. I am, of course, talking about Anthony's desire to go about choosing a bride with his head and not his dick heart.

I don't know if the cloth over the face was an intentional nod to Anthony's sideburns from last season, but if it was, kudos to the production team for thinking of that.

9- Door to the Face

I a-door Kate telling off Anthony and then shutting the doors to the drawing room in his face. She is the gatekeeper and she'll do whatever it takes to keep Anthony away from Edwina.

8- Hug-blocked

Oh, Penelope. You sure have some awkward moments, don't you. First, you slightly horrified your best friend when you said "...someone like--Colin!" Then you almost forgot yourself in the excitement of Colin being home and went to hug him before the other Bridgertons cut you off. At least it gave her a moment to remember herself and luckily for her, no one else seems to notice what she almost did.

While I would like the montage for season 3's first episode to be Colin getting increasingly confused/stressed out/sad because Penelope is ignoring him, I think it might actually end up being more of this awkward cutie trying and failing at the marriage mart.

7- "You think too much about it." "And you too little."

Kate and Anthony's argument over which horse will be the victor gives me life. And they're so absorbed in each other that Edwina's and Dorset's attempts to try and break up their debate get drowned out. And the two of them just absolutely losing it while watching the race is amazing. And I love the look on Anthony's face when Kate starts whistling. He's bewildered. He's in awe. He's horny as hell.

How did nobody else notice that these two were perfect for each other based off of this interaction???

6- The Fencing Scene

I would hereby like to petition the showrunners to please let us see the flowy white shirts the men are wearing more often. Anyway, on to the scene. Anthony is having a temper tantrum ranting to his brothers about Kate. If this is Anthony trying to hide how much he likes Kate, then he is going to be absolutely sickening in season 3 when he doesn't have to hide it anymore. I'm amazed that the brothers aren't picking up on it. Colin, you're forgiven since you've only just returned to the country, but Benedict, you haven't taken any drugs yet at this point in the show. You should have been able to read between the lines.

And did I mention: give us more of the flowy white Regency men's shirts.

5- Trojan Horse

Showing up at Lady Danbury's house with Nectar showed that a) Anthony really knew nothing about Edwina and b) he accidentally got the perfect gift for Kate. If only he wasn't so stupid. But his stupidity leads to some great lines this season so I'll take it.

Seriously, this is the 19th-century equivalent of getting someone a Ferrari, why would you do this, Anthony?

4- Pouty Anthony

Anthony pouting over being excluded from the invitation to Lady Danbury's. That's it. That's all I have to say.

3- Edwina Bonding With Penelope

Let's be real, Penelope's hair and outfits improve this season...but not until episode 3. Edwina is kinder than I am because she is very nice to Penelope about her dress and even makes her smile. I would not be able to say one nice thing about that outfit without lying through my teeth. Obviously, Penelope had other motivations when she spoke with Edwina, and she needed to be among the suspects for the Queen for plot reasons, but Edwina made Penelope feel good about herself for a minute there. I wish this friendship had been explored a little more this season, but alas.

2- "You are Pen...you do not count."

The only reason this is on my list is because I'm hoping this moment to come back and bite Colin in the ass in season 3. I like to imagine that when he starts to come to his senses, he'll remember this moment as he's about to drift off to sleep, cringe, and then lie awake for hours wondering what the hell is wrong with him.

1- Lady Danbury's Warning

Yes, Lady Danbury dropped the ball this season by not picking up on the attraction between Kate and Anthony sooner and also not denouncing Anthony courting Edwina. When Kate insists that she doesn't care what anybody thinks of her and she'll be more than happy to live the rest of her life alone in India, Lady Danbury calls her out on this. It's obvious to us and Danbury that Kate does care what people think of her (read: Anthony) and that she would be devastated at leaving her family behind and probably never seeing them again.

#bridgerton #bridgerton season 2 #anthony bridgerton #kate sharma #kate x anthony #anthony x kate #kathony #kanthony

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pulchrasilva · 6 months ago

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Ohh that's such a good point i fully forgot that 😭

That's super interesting! My thoughts on Circe are still cooking but iirc (other than that brief moment in Scylla), Done For is the only time Odysseus sings along with an enemy. Circe and Odysseus understand each other really well even when they're fighting, they have the same motivation.

And Circe's approach to combat feels very Odysseus-like to me too. She doesn't enter Actual Combat until the very last moment, instead tricking her enemies to force them into a form that's easier to overpower. Not dissimilar to Odysseus using the trojan horse to get into the city and attack while his enemies are asleep. They both "saves lives with guile", if you will. And even when Odysseus arrives at her palace already planning to fight her, they both start with a bit of a conversational dance. Odysseus asks questions he already knows the answer to, and Circe matches him with "all I did was reveal their true forms".

So Circe and Odysseus are very similar people. However Circe's character arc is the opposite of Odysseus'. She starts out from the "ruthlessness is mercy" perspective, but then learns that she can trust some strangers. She makes the judgement that "one act of kindness could lead to kinder souls down the road". Which is really key. Odysseus is forced to abandon kindness because the world around him is already ruthless, he takes on this characteristic from the people he encounters. But Circe is hoping that the world will take on a characteristic from her. They both know that the world is cruel, and react to that in very opposite ways. Circe has the character arc that Polites wanted for Odysseus (which. Crying 😭), she's the person he could have been.

What does this mean for the name thing? I'm gonna add your tags for this bit

Very good point that they both lie while introducing themselves to us! That helps the story establish them both as liars. Especially as the trojan horse isn't super explicit in the music, so the story needs to introduce that trait of Odysseus' in a clearer way, it's kind of what he's known for. And they use the same strategy to deal with their enemies in these scenes, which makes their similarities Really Obvious.

I also think it's relevant that they both introduce themselves to their enemies. Their character arcs are both defined by interactions with their enemies, so of course their identities should be connected to their enemies too. And introducing themselves reflects their "i put my friends first" attitude, which Done For shows us that they share.

I'm wondering where this fits them both into the friendly/enemy framework I had above, at least for Circe (Odysseus isnt a god anyway lol). I think Circe introducing herself absolutely brings the audience closer to her, it's a very conversational way to do it. So scrap what I said above, I think that even from the start of the saga, Circe fit better into the "friendly" category than "enemy". But even so, she completely defies the pattern of how gods are introduced. Possibly both because she doesn't stay in one strict category, and because her role in the story is to be Odysseus' foil rather than just to help or hinder him.

I think it's worth pointing out that, because he goes a whole saga without being properly introduced, it might make more sense to consider Odysseus a "no introduction" character. Like Zeus, actually. Not sure what that means. Would be very interested to hear anyone's thoughts on that!

Also there's a really good analysis post somewhere about how Odysseus is introduced the audience by Penelope's name rather than his own, which i can't find for the life of me but it's part of what got me thinking about character introductions in the first place so if anyone knows where to find it please let me know!!

Thinking about how the names of characters are introduced to us in EPIC, especially the gods. Most characters are introduced by either a character or the chorus saying their name.

Athena is introduced by Odysseus calling out her name and Aeolus is introduced by Odysseus speaking his name to address him. Hermes is introduced by Odysseus saying his name as he realises who he is. So all the "friendly"/helpful gods are introduced by Odysseus speaking to them, which automatically makes them a bit more familiar to the audience, more "human" if you will.

But Poseidon is introduced by the chorus (which is an audible representation of his divine power) chanting his name. It's a bold, terrifying introduction which emphasises his power and godhood above all else. And Zeus isnt introduced at all, his name is entirely up to the audience to infer, as if he knows his name precedes him (which it does, but is still arrogant. Especially alongside the whole "pride is a damsel in distress" speech). Both these introductions demonstrate the sheer power of the enemy gods, and a bit of a separation between them and the audience.

I think (correct me if I'm wrong) the only exception so far is Circe, whose name is first spoken by Hermes, a fellow god. It doesn't bring us super close to her, but also she's not present to demonstrate her power in that moment. And it makes sense for Circe to be the exception, because she's the only one who switches from enemy to friend

#epic the musical

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cacoetheswriting · 4 years ago

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champagne problems, ch.10

Spencer is in love with you, but you’re engaged to someone else.

Chapter Ten: Feels Like We Only Go Backwards: A choice is made. A/N: chapter is titled after this song if you want to listen while reading. Word Count: 2.4k Warnings: swearing, heartbreak, unrequited / unreciprocated love, jealousy, talk of breakup/s, serious serious angst, disclaimer [& spoiler warning], this chapter is not a happy one. this whole series is a real slow burn.

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A/N: as always, thank you for all the love you’re giving this story. we have about six chapters left to the end and words cannot describe how grateful i am to you for sticking with me and my rambling writing. ENJOY !

A significant weight was lifted off Spencer’s shoulders the second he told you how he truly felt about you. Actually, it was more the second you said you loved him back.

Even though the two of you distanced yourselves from one another, giving you the space to really think about your future and who you wanted to spend it with, the week that followed the admissions was considerably good.

Yes, the brunette doctor continued to feel uneasy about the situation he put you in. Uneasy about the choice you eventually would have to make. However, as days went by he noticed it didn't seem to bother you. No. You were oddly chirpy and cheerful. Spencer couldn't help but feel like it was because of him.

Like your choice was already made, and that choice was him.

“Do you have plans tonight?” You asked in a hushed tone, slyly glancing around the bullpen to ensure no-one else was paying attention to you and the doctor.

Spencer shook his head. “Not entirely, no.”

Your lips curled into a smile at his response. “So you wouldn’t mind if I came over?” You asked, gently tapping your fingers in a walking motion against his desk. They stopped next to his hand - you could feel it was there, yet you didn't move your fingers further in fear of someone seeing. “There’s something I want to talk to you about.”

Spencer mouth twitched into a pleasant smirk. He should have been nervous, what if you were going to break the news you were choosing Ethan? He should have been anxious, the thought of losing you all over again, he couldn't imagine how awful that would feel. Yet he didn't feel any of those things.

Judging by your relaxed body language. Your hand just aching to touch his. The way your eyes glistened looking at him. Your elated tone as you spoke. It didn't take a genius, a profiler, or even someone that knew you as well as him, to say these were all indicators whatever you wanted to talk to him about was happy.

“Of course.” He cleared his throat. “What time do you think-”

“I’ll let you know, okay? I know you like to switch off for the weekend so keep your phone on you for me.” You traced a finger against his knuckle and with one last smile, ambled elegantly towards the exit.

Yes - Spencer deducted - whatever you wanted to tell him was going to be good news.

A knock on the door grabbed Spencer’s attention. He quickly examined the place one last time, to ensure everything was clean and, well, perfect for you.

Satisfied, he eagerly crossed his living room and without thinking twice, expecting to see you on the other side of the door, he opened it.

“Hey Spencer.”

But it wasn’t you. It was the last person he ever expected to see.

“E-Ethan, what ehm, what are you doing here?” Spencer asked.

Ethan smirked at the question, slowly sliding his hands into the pockets of his coat. “We need to talk, don’t you think?”

Spencer swallowed, but before he got a chance to reply the surgeon continued. “Actually, I’ll talk and you can listen. Also don’t bother inviting me inside because I’ll keep this brief and to the point.”

Your fiancé cleared his throat. “Imagine my surprise when I found out my wife-to-be still has feelings for her ex boyfriend. Did you know she is actually on her way here to tell you she’s choosing you? Yeah... Now, she doesn't know that I know. Her plan is to inform me tomorrow, after my shift at the hospital, that the wedding is no longer happening and our relationship is over.” He paused, almost as if he was daring Spencer to interrupt him at any moment and defend your honour.

Which in hindsight is something Spencer should have done.

“So here’s how this is going to do, doctor.” He slurred. “When she comes here, you're going to turn her down. You've broken her heart once before, I’m pretty sure you know how to do it again.”

Spencer stepped forward and opened his mouth to protest, but the surgeon impolitely cut him off. “Look, you’re a smart guy. Some sort of genius, right? I think deep down you know Y/N is better off with me. I can provide for her in ways you can't even comprehend. I am going to give her a life you can only dream of Spencer.”

“I think you’re forgetting it’s not all about the money.” Spencer stated coldly. His eyes narrowing. Jaw clenching.

Ethan chuckled callously. “Of course not. But I think you need to consider how much disposable income can improve life. I have the ability to ensure we buy our dream home. I have the ability to invest in a second home for her father, and move him somewhere closer to us. With me, Y/N will be able to quit her job and no longer risk her life on a daily basis. She will be able to spend time with our future kids, in a beautiful home, completely care free.”

He let out a deep sigh. “Did she even tell you she’s been thinking about transferring out of the BAU? She doesn't want to be a profiler anymore. Fuck man, she doesn't even know if she wants to be a SSA anymore. The only reason she’s sticking around is you.”

The statement caught Spencer completely off guard. Ethan had to be bluffing, right? He would say anything to ensure you stayed with him, right?

“You’re lying.” Spencer grumbled through his teeth.

Ethan smirked in response. “I’m really not though. Ask anyone. Her dad, it was actually he who suggested it in the first place. Or your friend Penelope, she seems to think it’s a good idea.”

Spencer’s world was crumbling down around him and he was helpless to stop it. Why didn't you tell him this was on your mind? Why did you keep this a secret? And how did he not see any inclination of this before?

“Like I said, you’re a smart guy Spencer.” Ethan stated. “I think you know what the right thing to do is.” And with that, he walked away leaving the brunette agent alone with his thoughts.

Slowly, Spencer closed the door. He turned on his heel and leaned against it while letting out a long winded breath, one he didn't even realise he was holding.

He never wanted to stand in the way of your plans. He didn't want to be the one holding you back from anything. Was his ever growing love for you clouding his judgement?

He closed his eyes, resting against the door behind him. The guilt he was now feeling riddled him from head to toe. And mixed with the guilt was a faint feeling of anger. Anger directed at the man that dared to get between your relationship with the brunette agent.

Ethan, a name of Hebrew origin that means firm, enduring and strong. A good name for good people.

Spencer knew off many Ethan’s in his lifetime. His college friend, an old colleagues son - all people that definitely lived up to the meaning. Yet your fiancé was anything but.

This Ethan was arrogant, rude, possessive. In Spencer’s mind, this Ethan was quite literally the physical embodiment of the curse word dick.

He never truly understood what you saw in the guy. He always thought you could do a lot better. Even if it wasn’t Spencer himself, there are men out there a lot kinder than Ethan.

And yet, despite all of the resentment he felt towards the man, Spencer couldn't help but feel like there was some truth to what he had said. The hazel-eyed man started doubting himself. Doubting whether he really had your best intention at heart, or whether his own selfishness was preventing him from making sure you’re living your best life.

This was supposed to be a happy day. A happy evening.

It certainly started out that way. You were on your way here to tell him you were choosing him. You were choosing to spend the rest of your life with him.

Spencer felt sick to his stomach. Dizzy. He was sure if he opened his eyes even just for a second he would collapse. He also knew the only rational thing, the right thing to do will only make him feel worse.

The brunette agent wasn’t entirely sure how long he stood frozen like that. His breathing shallow. Heart sinking, heavy.

A knock on the door behind his back caused him to slowly open his eyes, yet he didn't move an inch. He simply couldn't. He couldn't bare to face you. He couldn't bare to look you in the eye and break your heart for a second time.

Instead, he chose the childish way out. He hoped if he was still enough, quiet enough, you would think he wasn’t home and leave. It is a conversation that cannot be avoided, but it would be a conversation for another day.

You knocked again, using a little more strength this time.

Spencer held his breath. Tears began to form in his eyes. Salty droplets that if he let escape, he knew they wouldn't stop falling.

He heard faint shuffling outside and for a split second he thought you gave up and walked away. For a split second he thought he bought himself more time. More time with the fantasy that the two of you would get your happy ending together. Foolish, he thought.

It was in that moment the mobile device in the back pocket off his pants started to buzz, vibrating against the door. The phone you asked he kept close to him earlier that day. The sound of the ringtone followed soon after completely giving away Spencer’s current location.

“Spencer?” The sweet sound of your voice coming through the wooden barrier between you caused the tears he was fighting to slowly trail down his face. The device stopped ringing. “I know you’re in there. Can you let me in?” You said, so blissfully unaware of what was about to happen.

Spencer turned around and pressed his forehead against the painted wood. His hand travelled to the door knob, yet he still didn't move any further. “I-I... I c-can’t...” He managed to blurt out.

“What do you mean you can’t?” He heard you ask, the hint of confusion in your tone aching his heart further. “Spencer, what’s going on?”

The brunette doctor licked his lips and swallowed, tasting the saltiness of his own tears. “Y-you should go Y/N.” He uttered.

“Go? Spencer, you’re not making any sense.” You responded, the door knob rattling under Spencer’s fingers. “Please let me in. I’m not going to say what I want to say through a door.”

“Don’t s-say it at all. You should be with E-Ethan. Your future will be brighter with him.”

Silence. Unbearably heartbreaking silence.

At first you thought your ears were playing tricks on you. There was no way he just said that, right? A week after he told you he loved you. A week after he said he'll always wait for you. A week after he proposed. There was no way he changed his mind.

And then you thought of his time in prison. More specifically the day you went to visit him for the last time. The day you wanted to propose. The day he broke your heart.

He used those exact words - “Your future will be brighter without me.”

Slowly, you placed the palm of your hand on the door between you and took in a deep breath. Your eyes glossed over as the confusion rushing through you evolved into sadness.

Spencer could pinpoint the exact moment the air changed around him. It was suddenly tense. Broken. He felt like a coward. Even if he had your best interest at heart, he should still be able to face you and explain his side in person. Tell you that Ethan came by. Tell you everything that was said. Ask about your plans to leave the BAU. Ask whether he really was the only reason you haven't resigned yet. But he couldn't formulate the words. He simply gave up. A coward.

“Spencer, I-I don’t understand...” You sobbed. “I-I thought-t you loved me.”

“I love you more than anything in this world Y/N.” He quickly replied, the palm of his hand now pressed against the wood. Unbeknown to him, against the exact same spot on the opposite side of the barrier was your hand. So close yet so far.

“Then let me in. Please. I-I came here to say I choose you. I want to be with you Spencer. Please... Please let me in.” You cried through the door. Spencer could hear the pain behind your words, the sorrow. It really took all the strength he had not to let you in.

“I’m sorry Y/N.”

Your hands trembling uncontrollably against the barrier between you and the man of your dreams.

His sudden change of heart left you completely speechless. His words like tiny daggers stabbing directly into your bleeding heart. How did this happen? What changed between now and this morning? What changed between now and last week? You had so many questions. Ones that you feared would remain unanswered.

Additionally, your gut was telling you there was more to this than he was letting on. That it wasn’t as simple as ‘Ethan is the better man for you’ because you knew Spencer didn't believe that. But you couldn't find the strength within to argue with him.

“If-f that’s w-what you want Spencer, I’ll leave-e.”

It was the last thing he heard before the sound of your footsteps ushering away.

After a minute, the hazel-eyed agent moved to the couch and sunk into the material. Every fibre of his being was currently aching. He hoped he did the right thing, although the voice at the back of his mind said no. What else was he supposed to do? He knew Ethan wouldn't just give up. Was Spencer prepared to fight for you? If tonight was any inclination the answer would also be no.

Spencer’s gaze locked onto the small box in the middle of his coffee table.

It was a considerably good week, and it was supposed to end a hell of a lot better than this.

Every part of me says, "Go ahead" But I got my hopes up again, oh no, not again

A/N: i hope you liked this chapter! and i am so so sorry for giving y’all false hope with the last one! i promise these there are happy times ahead for these two just not quite yet... as always i’d love to hear your feedback! if you would like to be added to a taglist, please let me know. thank you for your continuous support. with love, mal. x

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story taglist: @girloncorneliastreet, @haylaansmi, @rexorangecouny, @l0ve-0f-my-life, @obsssedwithjustaboutanything, @aperrywilliams, @sassy-hades, @rainsong01, @reverdevivre, @dracomikaelson, @softieekayy, @lunaofcrows, @andrewhoezierbyrne��, @blameitonthenight21, @lyl-26, @do-yr-research, @nazifa94, @stepsofthefbi, @chatterbug2-0

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#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #dr spencer reid x reader #criminal minds angst #champagne problems series

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spencers-renaissance · 4 years ago

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A Chronicle of Loss

Summary: 5 people Spencer Reid lost and 1 person he gained. A look at the traumas Spencer faces over the series, and giving him the happy ending he deserves.

Tags: grief, loss, abandonment issues, insecurity, depression, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, getting together, ‘didn’t know they were dating’, protective derek, autistic spencer

TW: self-harm, drug addiction, grief

Pairing: Derek Morgan x Spencer Reid

Word Count: 3.6k

Masterlist // Read on AO3

The Inescapable Unravelling (<)

1. William

Spencer’s only ten years old when he watches his father pack his bags in his parents’ bedroom, watches as he smiles sadly at the sorry sight of him and his mother begging him not to leave, only to ignore their pleas and walk out the door. He remembers the anxiety written on his mother’s face, the shame in her eyes at being left in such a cruel way, the uncertainty as to whether they’d cope without William like it’s branded onto his skin, an egregious mark he can’t ignore.

Just like that, he became the man of the house. He became the voice of reason, the sensible one, the person dealing with Diana’s episodes, all while balancing his school work in a desperate attempt to live a different life to the one he existed in as a child.

He knows it wasn’t solely Diana, or Riley Jenkins, or any average marital issue that caused him to leave, he knows it was partly that William simply didn’t know how to handle an autistic child prodigy. He had a genius son who struggled with communication, had no friends, and refused to engage in any of the bonding activities he came up with. In the end, Spencer being different only compounded his desire to leave and, eventually, he stopped suppressing it and gave in.

He’d never blame his mother, but her confusion in her episodes often sent him flying down half a flight of steps or clutching a stinging cheek or banging his head on a door frame. She called him clumsy and he didn’t correct her. She called him ‘crash’ and he accepted the nickname. Without William there, he was completely and utterly alone, left to deal with the grief of losing a father and a schizophrenic mother who struggled to look after herself, let alone him.

He still thinks about it all these years later. He thinks about what his father said to Diana when he left: “you refuse to take care of yourself.” He reflects on the fact that he was well aware Diana wouldn’t be able to take care of him, that he would be left to fend for himself, that a 10 year old can’t provide adequate mental health support no matter how hard he tries, and he still left. He thinks about what that meant, how little his father actually cared for him.

He still thinks about it, and he still cries. His first encounter with grief, and he was only 10 years old.

2. Innocence

Spencer had joined the BAU at 22: three PhDs under his belt and a lifetime of expectation on his shoulders, but somehow he’d managed to remain the most innocent member of the team throughout the first few years of his job. Until Tobias Hankel had taken it and completely obliterated any shreds of naivete he had left.

Of course, he knew evil. He’d even experienced it first-hand, he’d been viciously bullied growing up and he’d encountered his fair share of violent, deranged serial killers, but Tobias -- or, more accurately, Charles and Raphael -- introduced him to evil on a completely new scale. The pain and fear that had tormented him in that cabin lived in a secluded, festering part of his psyche, reproducing at a terrifying rate in his memory, never resting, never quieting, unless dilaudid was streaming through his veins.

His innocence was gone; there was only darkness, loneliness, corruption, and he was grieving for something he’d never get back. His life was now separated into two distinctly different eras, marked only by his kidnapping, by the cruel torture he’d been subjected to.

Along with his innocence, he’d lost his relationships, he’d lost the family he’d found and loved so dearly. Nobody tried to help him escape the clutches of his PTSD or addiction, he felt like he was drowning right in front of his friends while they talked and laughed among themselves, muffling his desperate cries for help, and the frustration and abandonment joined the pain and fear in their festering corner of his mind.

He eventually gets clean, he eventually recovers. But he’s never the same. He’s forever tainted by the actions of one man -- a man he struggled to blame -- and he can’t help but mourn the life he had before Tobias, the optimistic, brightly coloured world-view he used to hold before it was ripped up, stamped on, and burned to ashes right before his eyes.

3. Gideon

Gideon leaves. Gideon leaves and the blow is almost as crushing as it was when he was ten. His mentor, his father figure, his friend abandons him with no warning, no goodbye. It hurts that he didn’t think Spencer worthy of anything more than a useless fucking letter that he left for him in a cabin because he knew that Spencer loved him enough to drive out there and find it; he knew that Gideon was much more special to Spencer than he ever was to him.

This pain feels almost worse because he’s surrounded by people feeling the same way, if to a less extreme extent. He finds himself comparing himself to Hotch, Derek, the whole team: it makes him feel as though he’s overreacting when even Penelope, arguably the most emotive member of the BAU, seems back on her feet within a few days and Spencer still feels as though he’s been hollowed out and all his insides replaced with the smouldering ashes of grief filling him up, weighing heavy in his stomach, climbing up his throat and choking him.

He drags his feet, he doesn’t sleep, he drinks coffee, he runs on auto-pilot. Others notice, of course they do, but there’s nothing any of them can say to make it better, not even Hotch when he’s pulled into his office and sternly told that he needs to open up. Spencer just looks at him with empty, exhausted eyes and shrugs. Weeks ago, he would’ve cried but there aren’t anymore tears to cry, he’s reached a truce with himself. He isn’t happy but he isn’t crushingly depressed anymore: he feels nothing, an abyss of grey matter circling around inside him as he struggles to perform basic functions.

“It’ll get better, kid,” Derek says seriously one day when he sits down at his desk, dullness settled deep in his eyes and numbness deep in his veins. It doesn’t feel like it.

Rossi joins the team and he’s nothing but cold towards Spencer and the rejection only adds insult to injury, and nobody seems to care. His stomach hurts all the time and he’s losing weight again, he knows, but he can’t seem to put any effort into anything at all, least of all trying to be happy, trying to look after himself.

He’s lost his protector and he’s replaced by another person who sees him as an intentional but irritating robot to be used and discarded, not thought of again until another geographical profile is required, or an obscure fact would help the investigation. The agony of existence for almost a year after Gideon’s disappearance feels almost too much to bear, even if Rossi does warm up to him, even if he does eventually begin to heal and forgive. It’s the first time grief almost kills him, and he isn’t even mourning the dead.

4. Emily

Emily’s death tears him apart. For the first time since the year after Hankel, he considers many things. He buys dilaudid and fiddles with the bottle every evening, torn between the sweet relief he knows would be guaranteed the second it’s flooding his bloodstream and the torment of knowing it was Emily who helped him get clean the first time, how disappointed she’d be if she knew he was throwing away all those hours she put in, disregarding the belief she had in him.

He holds a razor over the top of his thighs and slashes as deep as he can bear, daydreams about burying the blade deep enough to slice open his femoral artery and give up, embrace the darkness that’s been living inside him for years anyway. But he can’t stand the grief it would bring JJ, losing another sibling to suicide, even if he isn’t blood related. He doesn’t want to hurt anyone but himself, but it’s so cripplingly tempting and the frustration at not being able to give in to any of his darker fantasies has him tearing his heart out.

Instead he cries, sobs, weeps, over the death of his best friend, shouts in anger at the unfairness of Emily’s life being taken by a dirty criminal while he gets to live as she’s six feet under, dark and cold in the ground. Images of her beautiful face he loved so much rotting away, turning into something grotesque and mangled roam around in his brain and he berates himself relentlessly for not appreciating her wide grin and teasing eyes more, hates himself for not appreciating every single moment with her that he could.

And when she miraculously rises from the dead, he can’t even appreciate it because he feels as though he’s lost another friend. JJ, the one person he tried every day to live for, pictured in his mind every time he considered ending everything, had deceived him, had held him while he cried, held a cool washcloth to his forehead after he threw up from the force of his crying and the extremity of his grief, had watched him writhe in agony, all while having the power to stop it and doing nothing.

The betrayal dizzies him: he doesn’t know who he can trust and the shock of Emily’s return leaves him reeling. He’s cold to the people he loves, and he can’t rejoice in Emily’s return, can’t sit down with her and chat like they used to, or hug her again, or joke with her, or prank Derek together. Again, he’s drowning and this time everyone’s focus is on him but he’s refusing their hands reaching out to help, stubbornly accepting his fate, too scared to take an outstretched arm in case it lets him go again. Surely the cold darkness of the cruel waters is kinder than another rejection or deception?

Finally, finally, he decides to trust one hand and he’s pulled above the waters again, not quite out of the ocean but at least he can breathe. Eventually, he finds the strength to walk to shore and he’s wrapped up in Emily’s strong arms, burying his face in her hair and swearing he’ll never let go again.

5. Alex

He never, not for a moment, blames Alex for her decision to let go. If anything he admires her for it, he’s proud she made the right decision for her and her family, and at least he saw this one coming. He’s lost enough people by this point that the loss doesn’t ache and burn and fester in the way it used to, and they stay in contact; they have a bi-weekly FaceTime call and she texts him memes that he doesn’t understand and book recommendations regularly.

But that’s not to say that losing his maternal figure on the team, the woman who he’d connected with the fastest out of any BAU member, who had understood him in a way no-one else could, who loved and cared for him like a son, doesn’t stab him in the gut.

He’d take a bullet for absolutely everyone on the team, but he hadn’t taken a bullet for Alex out of some misguided loyalty to a coworker or because she was a member of the BAU, he’d taken a bullet for her because she was the best person he knew, and - plain and simple - some inner, more primal instinct within him wanted to save her life. And she’d stayed with him at the hospital, a little due to her guilt, a little due to her seeing Ethan in him, but mostly because she loved him.

And he loved her. So seeing her walk down those stairs and knowing she wouldn’t walk into the bullpen the next morning - no matter how much he knew that this was the right thing for her to do - left him feeling hollow again, a little broken, a lot sore. He missed her deeply, both because she was an amazing asset to the team, but also because she’s a beautiful person who brought sunshine to his gloomy world. She had an indescribable talent for making him happy, and he felt her absence in his every-day life bitterly.

Although she’s still around, she still finds ways to brighten his day, still has some creepy telepathic ability to know when he’s down and exactly how to make him feel better, it’s another loss to add to the many he’s somehow managed to have collected over the years. And he can’t seem to tell the grief in his heart any different.

At least this time it can be temporarily alleviated by a text message. It’s more than he could have asked for, really.

The Gradual Intertwining (>)

+1 Derek

He falls in love with Derek like the kind of slow and steady drizzle that’s almost indistinguishable from heavy mist; so easily confused for the ordinary, familiar platonic feelings he’s harboured for years. It’s because of this that he doesn’t put up an umbrella, he continues walking as he’s gradually soaked in deep, entrenched yearning, until one day, he finally realises it’s raining.

It’s on the morning of Rossi’s 60th birthday party that it finally clicks and, suddenly, it’s obvious. He let Derek carry him to bed last night after he fell asleep watching a movie, for God’s sake: he’d even woken up on the way but faked it just so he wouldn’t put him down. He’s known for years that a 187 IQ doesn’t mean his emotional intelligence is excellent, too, but this feels ridiculous even for him. He’s practically been in a relationship for years and he had no idea. This must be why he always got that strange feeling in his stomach when Derek talked about literally anybody else.

This is not an ideal realisation to come to when Derek is currently cuddled around him, about to wake up any minute. Spencer tries very hard not to think about the fact that he won’t blink an eye at their entwined limbs and what that means, but he’s not exactly in control of his thoughts right now.

He feels like he sleepwalks through the morning, trying to pay attention to what Derek talks to him about as he cooks him breakfast, but his mind has sort of short-circuited, not knowing how to adapt to this new information. His brain is not equipped to process being in love, and zoning out is as good a coping mechanism as any for now. It’s not until they head back to the bedroom to get dressed and ready for the day that he snaps out of it.

“Hey, pretty boy,” Derek says loudly, clicking his fingers in front of Spencer’s face to get his attention.

“Hm?” Spencer hums, feeling the world fade back into focus despite the haze of confusion still dizzying him somewhat.

“Alright, you’ve been spacy with me all morning,” Derek says, shifting his weight slightly as he levels Spencer with an inquisitive gaze. He can’t help but feel a cool kind of dread pour down his spine at the idea of that look figuring him out. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing, sorry,” Spencer says, forcing himself to snap back into action as he attempts to compartmentalise. “Just… didn’t sleep well, I guess.”

Derek looks doubtful but takes him at his word. “Okay,” he acquiesces. “Better get dressed, though. We’ve got a lot to get through today.”

“We do?” Spencer asks, ignoring the fact that he’s still stood in his ratty, oversized shirt and underwear in front of the man he’s deeply in love with, maybe for the sake of his sanity, maybe because he finds it hard to be embarrassed in front of Derek Morgan, not after all these years.

“Yeah,” Derek says, like it’s obvious, “we gotta run to the grocery store and pick up a present for Rossi - probably some food for this barebones apartment of yours, too - pick up my clothes from the dry cleaners, and swing round Penelope’s to give her the blender I borrowed back. And I know for a fact you have some work to do on your latest paper, as well.”

Spencer, with his new perspective on the situation, considers the fact that Derek has included him in errands that are pretty exclusive to his own life. He also considers the fact that he never would have stopped to think this odd if he didn’t have the knowledge he has now. Unfortunately, simply considering does not shed much light on the situation.

Because of this, Spencer does what he’s always done. He nods and gets ready for his day of driving around with Derek doing very mundane chores and wonders why he feels so excited.

(While they’re out and about, it strikes Spencer why the realisation that he’s in love with Derek feels so paralysing: almost everyone he’s ever loved has left. He’s 34 and he’s never had a loving, committed relationship, and that’s for a reason: there’s only so much grief one heart can take. How could he ever give himself over to someone, hand them the key to his heart, open the door into his life, knowing that they could leave? Forever simply doesn’t exist, not for Spencer anyway. And truly, he doesn’t think he’d survive the loss of Derek, he can’t think of anything in the world that would be more painful.)

Despite the emotional exertion of the day, Rossi’s party is actually fairly enjoyable, probably aided by the glass of wine Spencer had accepted immediately upon entering the garden, he bloody well deserved it after the day he’s had. He gets chatting with JJ and Hotch and he barely even notices the absence of Derek by his side, having been roped into a conversation with Rossi and one of his famous poker friends that Spencer wouldn’t be able to place with a gun to his head.

It’s not long before they reconvene though, programmed with some kind of homing instinct that always leads them back to one another, and Derek’s leaning a bit too close. Spencer finds it a little hard to breathe with his body pressed so close to his own, Derek’s warm, wine flavoured breath on his ear making his insides flip and setting butterflies free to roam his stomach.

They spend the rest of the party like that, pressed away together in a corner, tucked inside one another’s pockets, and Spencer knows that he’s responsible for at least half of the instigation: he’s pressing back against Derek’s side with just as much pressure, leaning in closer, laughing a little louder, not bothering to hide the adoration that must be plainly written across his face.

“Wanna come back to mine for a drink?” Derek asks as the night draws to a close, and how can Spencer refuse? They spend more nights together than apart at this point, and the last thing he wants is to feel lonely tonight, not after today.

“Please,” is all he says.

No-one says anything when they leave together, Derek’s hand loosely placed on his lower back.

Derek’s apartment is warm and tidy, the opposite of Spencer’s, but it feels just as much like home as his own when he steps over the threshold. He’s about to tell him just that, but as he turns around to face him, Derek’s looking at him in a way he’s never seen before and his breath catches.

“Spencer?”

“Yeah?”

Derek steps a little closer, crowding into his space even more. “Can I kiss you?” he murmurs.

Spencer doesn’t bother answering, instead closing the gap on his own and pressing his lips to Derek’s. His hands go to Derek’s side on instinct but as he kisses back, Spencer feels one hand tangling itself gently in his hair, and another cupping his jaw and he gives way, melting into the touch. The whole thing goes right to his stomach, feeling it bottom out as the intensity of the moment threatens to overwhelm him before a small sound escapes Derek’s lips and he’s reminded who’s kissing him, whose hands are on him, who’s making him feel these things. All of a sudden, it’s easier to let go.

Their lips mould together as they collapse into one another, the final piece of the gradual intertwining of their lives and bodies over the last twelve years. A fire lights under Spencer and he feels his world tilt on its axis, except unlike previous life-altering experiences, this time it feels like its tilting into place, as though he’s been off-kilter this whole time, finally returned to his natural state.

“You have no idea how long I’ve dreamed of this,” Derek whispers as they pull away.

“Why didn’t you kiss me sooner, then?” Spencer asks.

“Today is the first day you knew you wanted it,” Derek replies, before he’s kissing him again.

(Later that night, when they’re tucked into Derek’s bed, Spencer lies with his head on his chest, comforted by the steady, reassuring heartbeat as Derek whispers promises of forever into his hair. Spencer knows that nobody can ever really promise anything, but for the first time in his life, he decides it doesn’t matter. They’ll have to part some day, in one way or another - maybe Spencer will be the one to go first this time - but he realises that he’d rather have known Derek like this, to have known how it feels to love and be loved back, only to have him leave, than to have him stay and never know it at all.)

@criminalmindsvibez @strippersenseii

#my writing #moreid #moreid fic #moreid writing #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #derek morgan #spencer reid #Derek Morgan x Spencer Reid #derek morgan/spencer reid #tw substances #tw drugs #tw sh #tw self harm #tw grief #tw depression

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weasleyslag · 4 years ago

Text

i’m not coming home | p.w

summary: A collection of letters between Percy and his girlfriend Penelope Clearwater following his estrangement from his family.

pairing(s): Percy Weasley/Penelope Clearwater

wc: 6.2k (lol I’m sorry)

warning(s): heavy cursing, hella toxic relationship, no happy ending

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30644294

Dear Percy,

See, I told you I would write! I really am so proud of you and your new job. I hope you’ll allow me to come visit your new apartment soon. I know you’re very busy, but maybe not too busy for me? My dad told me he’d pay for my stay in London if you invited me, but I think it’d be more fun for me to stay with you and go to a show or something. I heard there’s some good muggle performances down there, I’d be interested to see that sort of thing. It’d be an good change, I’m up to my head with wizards that think they’re so talented.

Please tell me all you can about your job when you write back! I know it must be super under wraps, being the Junior Assistant to Fudge himself, but I would be interested in knowing the most mundane of things you can tell me, it would most certainly be more enthralling than the highlight of any of my days. I was hoping I’d be promoted to something more dignified by now, but they’ve still got me watching over some of the Ministry workers’ children. You know I like kids, but I’d rather not be a glorified babysitter. There’s not even many learning activities I can do with them, I’m pretty much instructed to do puppet shows and other silly tasks for them all day. Hopefully someone recognizes my potential soon. Maybe since you work with Fudge now, you can say something to him???

I hate to turn this letter sour but Fred and George have gotten into contact with me this week. They’re really worried about you. They said that they’ve all written to you and the letters are always sent back, unopened. You must know this hurts them, why don’t you at least read the letters? You know they love you and I know that you really are kind at heart; you must still have love for them. I know it must have been hard for you to hear that after all your efforts, your dad doesn’t believe you’re capable of receiving such a prestigious job on your own merits. But of course they are all paranoid, what with all that happened last Spring. I hope you can find it within yourself to be the bigger person and reconcile with your family. Maybe they’ve even apologized in their letters, you’ll never know unless you read them. Don’t read Fred’s though, he’s more mad than the rest of them. I’m sure he’s thrown every name in the book at you.

I hope my next letter will be in better spirits. I hope Hermes is doing well and I hope even more so that you will adjust to life in London well.

With Love,

Penelope

Dear Penelope,

I cannot express with words how excited I was to receive your owl. I hope you don’t mind that I kept her for a few days, Hermes adores her and she reminds me of you. However, I also had to keep her back because it took quite some time to give you an adequate response to everything you said in your letter.

Hermes and I are well. He hasn’t adjusted as well as I have, but I understand. The air is polluted and there’s not much room for him to roam. There’s no forests in sight, only a bunch of buildings. If I wasn’t taking your letters, I would send him back to the Burrow. He was happier there and besides, the ministry has provided me a new owl for business letters.

I, on the other hand, am doing the best I ever have been. I am extremely efficient with my work and I appear to be pleasing my superiors. In my off time, I watch live shows and read. I have been getting into some Muggle classics, like War and Peace. Their culture is quite interesting, although ours is clearly superior. I am glad I am nourishing my mind as much as I can, I only wish there wasn’t so much noise outside my apartment. Jackhammers and traffic is all l I hear all day. It gets old fast. I’m not sure if you would like it here, but I would be happy to have you if you wish to visit. Although, I thought about your proposal to stay with me and I must decline. I would love to and I am sure my hormones would have a field day, but your father wants you to stay somewhere else and merely visit me during the day, trying to trick him would be wrong. I am sorry, but rules are rules, even when it comes to you.

I will speak with Fudge about your employment. I am a bit nervous to do so but I think he likes me, so I will certainly try. You’re a very smart girl and I believe if they just took notice of how you applied yourself, they’d move you up the ranks swiftly. It would be a shame to let such an academic be reduced to a daycare worker. That seems like something my mum would do if she worked. And you certainly surpass her when it comes to brains and ambition.

Dismayed is an understatement for how I feel knowing that my family has taken advantage of our relationship to try to shake me. I do not wish to speak to them now, I will only speak to them when they realize that I am right, which I hope won’t be much longer. You’re right, of course, I do have love for them, even Fred and George, but I can not continue a relationship with people that discount my accomplishments and constantly laugh at my expense. Reading their letters is pointless. I read the first letter I received from Charlie and although he tried to be eloquent, he still wasn’t seeing things my way. He was basically just regurgitating everything my dad had said, just in a kinder way. He and Bill have always been the most sensible so I see no point in attempting to read the other letters, they will only be worse versions of Charlie’s. I will admit that curiosity got the better of me, however. A letter from Fred came in the same day as yours. You were right, it was awful. I shouldn’t have expected anything more, however, that boy is barely literate. Here is a snippet of his abomination of a letter (I have fixed the spelling mistakes, there’s no reason to subject you to that):

“You are a massive cunt, you know that? After all mum and dad have done for you. Seriously? I can’t even call you a prat anymore, that’s just an insult to prat’s. You’re a slag for Fudge and we all know it. If you wanted to give him a good rimming, you could have just said so instead of causing us all this grief. Well not me, I don’t give one fuck about you. You could be in a ditch tomorrow for all I care. And maybe you will be, Fudge and his friends would just as well see you there as in an office. How could you choose him over your own mother? I hope you’re happy that you make her cry every night. I hear that you get paid three times dad’s salary and you have sent home not one knut. But twats like you don’t care about their family, huh? Enjoy your cushy apartment, I hope when you open the windows, a pigeon flies in and takes a shit on your head.”

Isn’t it just terrible? And it’s all one huge paragraph too, with unbearably non-flowy sentences. He is a right idiot if he thinks I’d ever want to respond to that. And why would I want to send money to people who treat me like that, anyway? I can’t put myself into his pea brain so I guess I will never know. Please make me take your advice next time so that I won’t have to subject myself to that kind of torture.

As for what happened this Spring, I’d rather not talk about it. The Ministry says that you-know-who is not back, so I’m afraid Harry must have been lying. Perhaps he had a fever and hallucinated the whole thing. I don’t hate him, by the way. I know my family must be trying to convince you of that but it is just not true. I think he is foolish and many adults are using him as a pawn. It’s sad, really. My family has gotten so desperate that they made Hermione and Harry write me letters too. I had already been informed by Fudge himself to turn over any correspondence from Harry, so of course I did that. I do wish I had the forethought to read the letter first, I’m very curious about it now, but oh well.

I care for you very much and hope we can arrange a visit soon.

With Even More Love,

Percy

Dear Percy,

I was hoping this letter would be more positive than the ones we have exchanged lately and that perhaps we could even arrange my trips to London, but I have gotten some terrible news. And I will not believe it until you confirm it.

There is a nasty rumour going around that you are to be court scribe for the Wizengamot in Harry’s trial. Say it isn’t true, Percy! I know it’s such an honor to work so closely with the Wizengamot, you’d be the youngest person in all of history to work as a scribe for them. But at what cost? Harry is your friend. I’ve been spending more and more time with your family and I consider Harry to be a friend now, too. I know the details of the case, and I’m sure you must since you’re apparently working it. Even if you don’t care for him, you must understand that objectively, Harry is in the right, at least morally. He was saving his cousin. The cousin that he grew up with and besides the kid being an absolute terror, he was basically his brother. Wouldn’t you cast magic to save your brothers or sister? How can you work for a case like that when you know you’d do the same as Harry?

I love you, I really do, and that’s why this breaks my heart so much. You’re turning into something that you aren’t for the sake of ambition. Please don’t do this. Come home and if Fudge truly does value you as much as you think, he will continue working with you even after you are on good terms with your family again. You must be missing them, aren’t you?

I will have to postpone the trip to London until you get all this figured out. I hope you understand. I am always open for you to come back here to visit me. We could all meet for dinner at the Burrow, where you belong.

I don’t have much else to say. I’m scared about what’s happening in the world and I’m nervous for you. I miss you, but I’m not sure if the you I miss is still you.

P.S: Tell Hermes I love him.

xxxx,

Penelope

Dear Penelope,

You have heard right, at least about the Wizengamot. I beg of you not to let my family poison your mind. Clearly, they want everyone to think I’m a terrible person. If they had it their way, we wouldn’t even be together right now. It’s not their fault, really, they suffer from cognitive dissonance, but they only think with their heart. That’s not sustainable and most certainly not how the world works. The court specifically wants me to be scribe and like you acknowledged, that is a huge honor. This is really going to help me get ahead even further. You know I have big dreams. I’d like to be the Minister one day and having all this under my belt would be a big help.

I really am not allowed to be discussing the case with the public, but I suppose I will make a tiny exception for you. I can’t help but have a soft spot for you; I musn’t make bending the rules for you a habit. You’re lucky I’m even physically able to say anything. The Ministry is heavily monitoring all the mail that comes in and out from high ranking members, but they haven’t done that with me yet (as far as I know, at least). I guess it must be because I’ve been so loyal and I won’t even receive my family’s letters, so they trust me. Little do they know that I have a weakness for you.

As of right now, I’m not too worried about Harry (of course, they might change when court is in session and I get all the details). I think his case makes sense. I’ve poured through court cases similar to this one, although the defendants were never as much of a public figurehead as Harry (but that shouldn’t matter, the Wizengamot is totally unbiased and will not take Harry’s fame into account when deciding a verdict), and every court case similar to this ended in a not guilty verdict. I am not sitting as a court scribe to try to lock Harry away, it’s just my job. I don’t approve of him, but let’s not pretend like I never want him to see the light of day again. Anyway, I was surprised that someone that possesses your caliber of intelligence relied so hard on pathos to convince me that being a court scribe is wrong. Everyone knows emotion is a flimsy argument and certainly has no place in the courtroom. The fact that he saved a muggle’s life will definitely be brought up in court, but it won’t be because it’s someone he cares for. It’ll be because we have all sorts of laws about self defense and protecting each other, even a few about protecting muggles. I fear you might not have a place high up in the ministry if you continue preferring pathos to logos. And anyway, you trying to my emotion by bringing up my family makes no sense. My family are wizards, so if it came down to it, I could protect them and it wouldn’t be against the law. It’s not my fault that my family is better than those Dursley’s.

I really must beg of you to stay away from my family and especially from Harry. That will probably not end well for you. Do not mistake that for a threat, I’d never hurt you, but I’m being realistic. Harry is off the rails and my family blindly believes him. In my opinion, Harry needs to be in a mental hospital, not roaming around as a public figure where everyone hangs on to his every word. He clearly suffers from PTSD after all he went through as a child between his parents being murdered in front him, a very powerful dark wizard trying to to murder him, and the muggle abuse he endured. And that’s not even mentioning all the pressure the world, especially Dumbledore, has put on him. He’s not a bad guy, he’s just insane. If the adults around him cared as much as they say they do, they’d put him away for a while until he can heal. But they won’t, that’s the problem. And now I hear that little Ginny is in love with him. I have never in my life been so in despair. I can’t help but think how bleak her future will be. Maybe I should write a letter to her. I doubt she’ll listen, but I do need to try.

I really do hope you decide to come visit me. Maybe I can speak with your father and come to an honest agreement about you living with me soon enough. I am really lonely here and I’ve been thinking a lot about the future. It seems my family and I will never get along again and I have no one else besides you. I have all this extra income so I think it might be practical for me to marry you. Then, you wouldn’t have to hear all this rubbish from my family in order to feel close with me. I will speak with him about it soon. It’s not really all that bad here and even if you’re not good enough to have a real job in the Ministry, that’s okay. I make enough money and I do want a lot of kids anyway. It wouldn’t be practical for you to have a demanding long term job.

Love,

Percy

Percy,

Maybe I am a sensitive fool but I found much of your letter to be highly offensive. You essentially called me unintelligent throughout the letter, then didn’t ask but rather told me that you would be marrying me (only caring about what my father would say, not me). And to top it all off, you told me I was to be your personal incubator while you get to have an actual job. It’s insulting, really. What if I don’t want to do that, did you even consider that? I care for you and I believe I always will but I am not in a place right now where I fancy marrying you. I think I’d rather tie the knot with one of twins or Charlie. Besides, I felt unsettling how you alluded to muggles being lesser beings. They most certainly are not, they’re just different than us. I don’t know how I can be with someone that sees a whole group of people as lesser than them.

I must not have too much respect for myself. After all, I felt all those things that I wrote in the first paragraph, yet I’m still writing to you. What terrible damage love can have to the brain. I think I know how this whole thing will turn out, yet I still hope against my better judgement that we will end up together. I will try to put this past me if you can promise to not be so cruel.

Things are the same as always in my life. Spending most of the time with Mother and Father and the rest tending to children. I think I might die of boredom. I have been thinking about becoming a Hogwarts teacher, at least it would be less degrading than playing babysitter for a bunch of toddlers. Curiously enough, I received a letter from Snape about receiving a position, not Flitwick. He liked me well enough back in school, but I definitely didn’t think he would ever think about contacting me for a teaching role. I didn’t think he ever thought much about any student that wasn’t a Slytherin. I think maybe he sees himself in me. You know I was treated pretty horribly throughout school and something tells me he might have gone through a similar experience. That aside, however, he wrote me a letter requesting my presence to a meeting in a few weeks. It’s a meeting with all the current teachers, so I’m quite nervous about it. They want to speak with me about a new class, I think, it wasn’t any sort of curriculum I was familiar with. Still, I’m heavily considering it. It would be a big step up. I am a little worried about moving out there, but I think I’ll be alright.

I know you act like you don’t care about how your family is doing, but that’s all it is, an act. So I will at least tell you the good parts. I’m sure you’ve seen by the addresses of the letters that they’re still sending you (because they care), they have moved. The Order has been restored, we’d all love to have you there, although I don’t have much hope that you would consider joining. Even Charlie and Bill have come back and joined. They miss you and I think they’re more than a little disappointed. Ginny is dating a kid named Michael Corner, not Harry. I’m sure you’re over the moon about that. Ron and Hermione have become prefects. That’s really good news, yeah? I’m not quite sure how Ron snagged it, but he did.

I promised myself I wouldn’t talk about any more conflict with you, so I won’t even bring up what you said at Harry’s trial. Just know I’m disappointed. What, I will say, however, is that it was so cruel that you didn’t even speak with your own father once court ended. I know you knew he was there. Look, I have a really bad feeling about the future and I can’t help but fear that something bad is going to happen and you’re going to regret being such an ass to them.

This letter was all over the place, I apologize. I just have all these emotions and you don’t seem to understand. Or if you do understand, you don’t care. I don’t know which is worse.

Take care,

Penelope

Dear Penelope,

I apologize for my behavior in my last letter. You’re right, I was only thinking of myself. I’ve just been by myself so much that I guess I find it hard to think about what other people want. I hope you can forgive me. Truly though, I think we could reconcile easier if you met me out in London. Of course only corresponding through letters has led to a strain.

Please brace yourself, because I know if you do not prepare for what I’m about to tell you, you will be very mad at me. I consulted with Fudge and we have decided that you shouldn’t become a teacher at Hogwarts. It’s not a good look for me and it’s safe for you. Dumbledore is off his rocker, I’m not going to allow you to be put in harm's way. Fudge has sent a letter to Hogwarts, strongly suggesting that they find a new candidate for their position. I agree that the role is important, kids need to learn, and you would have been a great teacher. But it’s not the right time for you. I know you will probably be royally pissed for a while, but you’ll get over it. I did it for your own good. I hope you will be happy to hear that I have talked to Fudge about you having a proper job in the Ministry and he agrees. He will be writing to you with an offer soon enough. All’s well that ends well, you get a safer, higher paying job. And you can be near me!

Yes, I knew that my family had moved. I hope they move back soon, it’s not safe for them there. You’re right, someone is going to get hurt. I can feel it in my bones. And of course I will be utterly inconsolable, but it will not be my fault if something happens. It will be Dumbledore’s and inadvertently, Harry’s. I would love to give my family advice, but I know they will not listen. Therefore, there’s no point in writing letters. Besides, even if I did want to write to them, I think Fudge would catch on and have someone start monitoring my mail. I trust the Ministry completely, but I still find it’s in my family’s best interests if the Ministry doesn’t know their exact going on’s.

I heard Ron became prefect. I’m very proud. I wrote him a letter, which the Ministry read (and unfortunately a few unkind edits to, but I’m sure it was for good reason), congratulating him. Unfortunately, I don’t think he’s received it. He hasn’t written back. Maybe Dumbledore has started screening letters? I’m proud of Hermione too, although I didn’t write her a letter. You seem to speak with the lot of them often, so please send her my congratulations. She’s such a smart and sweet girl, she’s a good match for Ron (I can tell he likes her). I would have preferred a Pureblood but oh well, she’s better than most muggles. Oh and speaking of people dating, yes I am very pleased that Ginny has found a nice guy that’s not Harry.

Love,

Percy

Percy,

Before I write anything else, I must address your hilarious claim that Dumbledore is monitoring letters. Ron got your letter, read it, then proceeded to burn it. He found it very offensive. He’s not happy with you, so maybe don’t send him more letters.

Fred and George are still mad, more than everyone else. George invited me out last week, I think only because he knew it would get a rise out of you. Fred’s the maddest of them all, as you know so well from his letters, but he’s with Angelina Johnson, so he couldn’t take me on the “jealousy date”. I don’t really fancy George, don’t worry, and I don’t think he fancies me. I must admit, however, that it was a nice time. It was a welcome change to listen to someone talk to me about their interests instead of being obsessed with a job. It was even more welcome that he asked me questions back and seemed to actually care about my responses. My favorite thing, though, was going out with someone that cared so much for their family. Someone that not only understood romantic love, but also platonic and familial love. I’d been missing that part of you for a while. But like I said, I don’t fancy him. I didn’t even let him kiss me. I feel guilty about it all, of course, I’d like to come down to London and try to get things in our relationship to run smoothly again.

Also, yes, I am very upset that you had that letter written to Hogwarts. You totally crossed a line and if I had any balls, I would have broken up with you over it. But alas, I really do want to make it work. This is another thing that I think we need to work on together. In London. Please tell me your thoughts.

With care,

Penelope

Dear Penelope,

Literally, what the fuck? I saw red when I read your letter. You. Went. Out. On. A. Date. With. My. Brother? And the little traitor tried to kiss you? I had half a mind to challenge him to a duel. But you’re right, he’s just trying to get me to act out and he will not get that out of me. There are so many problems with our relationship right now and I cannot bear to let you go, so we must meet and work things out immediately. And I’m not coming home, so you must come here. I’ve taken a week off at the Ministry, please arrive here as soon as you receive this letter. I will not be bested by the likes of George Weasley and a few other misunderstandings I may have thrown your way.

No need to write back,

Percy

Dear Percy,

I am so glad we had that meeting in London! I really do feel like we’ve fixed things. It makes me so happy that you have agreed not to be so unkind with your words in the future. And as promised, I have decreased contact with your family and all the other members of the Order. George has written me about a dozen letters since then, checking up on me and filling me in on what’s going on with your family. But as promised, I have not written back. If I expect you to uphold your part of the agreement, I must hold myself to the same standard.

I think I will take that secretary job Fudge offered me. It’s not all that you made it out to be, but at least I can be near you. I’m still too wary to marry you, after all it hasn’t been too long since we were falling apart, but I think it would be nice to be physically closer to you. I’ll see what I can do in terms of flats, since you’re too prudish to lend me room in yours.

Love you lots,

Penelope

Dear Penelope,

I don’t have much time to write at the moment, I’m very busy, so please excuse the short letter. I, too, am glad we are doing better. It was impacting my efficiency at work and I could not have that. I’m just glad there’s no more Fred and George, they were trying to hijack your mind and make it theirs. Besides, I have heard from more than one female that has come into contact with them, that they are basically a pair of incubi. I know you think I’m dramatic when I say that, but those two boys have turned evil, I know it. I should have seen the clear signs. It was so obvious from the time that they were little boys, chasing poor Ron with spiders.

Thank Godric that you are coming to join me at the Ministry! I can keep a close eye on you there, make sure you’re safe. I know the job isn’t glorious, but not everyone is as fortunate as me. You have to work your way up. I know you’ll have a very important job in no time. And I never said I wouldn’t let you live with me by the way, I said that I didn’t want your father to become cross with me. You really shouldn’t call me a prude, or do you not remember what all went in London when you came to visit? I didn’t think it was quite that forgettable, but I’ll just have to remind you when you move here.

Love,

Percy

Dear Percy,

I’m sorry for the distance between letters. I meant to write, I really did, but everything went to shit here. I know I said I would distance myself from your family, but George wrote to me and said that your father is in the hospital. So now I’m back to semi-living with them. Did you not read your mother’s letter about it, Percy? She marked it “urgent” on the envelope. Your father was utterly distressed that you didn’t even write, much less visit him. It made his recovery harder and longer. Don’t you still care even a little bit? What if he had passed, wouldn’t you have felt so guilty?

Also, your mother collapsed and fell into a fit of tears when you sent your Christmas jumper back. Why didn’t you just keep it? It would have spared her feelings, even if you think you’re too good for the sweaters now. She made me a sweater, I loved it. But oh well, please think about the repercussions of your actions on others. You’re making it very hard on all of us. Also, Fred wants me to let you know that he wants to bring back drawing and quartering just for you. George is more straight to the point, vowing to castrate you if you two ever cross paths again (by the way, they both thought your incubus comment was very funny, I think it inflated their ego).

I know you are on the Ministry’s side, saying that Voldemort is NOT back, which is horseshit and you know it. But you do know who attacked your father, yes? Surely that should be enough proof for you. You’re very smart, why are you letting an institution think for you?

With peace and love,

Penelope

Dear Penelope,

I am slightly dismayed that you didn’t keep up with your end of our agreement, going back to speak with my family. I do understand, though, my father’s attack was a shock and could have ended tragically. I know he’s better now, though, so please cease contact again.

On a similar note, yes, I did read Mum’s letter and know that he was in the hospital. I sent flowers anonymously, if that means anything to you. And I kept tabs on him from the Ministry. If I felt that things were going downhill and he wasn’t going to make it, I would have visited. But he was fine, so it’s not a big deal. Maybe he will learn to not poke his head where it doesn’t need poking from now on.

As for the sweater, it’s not that I didn’t want to keep it. I love her sweaters, I wear some of the old one sometimes. But keeping the sweater would have sent a completely wrong message and given her false hope. So really, sending it back was a selfless act.

I know you want me to say that You-Know-Who is back. But you just don’t understand. I represent the Ministry now. What they say goes. That doesn’t mean I don’t have my own thoughts, it simply means that I stand with them.

Just wanted to remind you that you’re very beautiful and I miss your kind heart. I can’t wait for you to move here.

Love,

Percy

Percy,

I am most certainly NOT moving to be with you in London after the stunt you pulled. Betraying Dumbledore and holding Harry in place whilst being questioned by Fudge? What a dick move. I don’t know what I expected, you provided me all the warning signs. I guess that when it mattered, you’d do the right thing. Now I see how wrong I was. I need some time to myself, and you need to think over in your heart why you thought it was okay to do what you did. You just better be glad that Fudge sent you out before you got smacked the fuck up by Dumbledore.

From the top of my head to the bottom of my toes, fuck you

Penelope

Dear Penelope,

This is the fifth letter I’ve sent to you in a row with no response, please answer. I know I shouldn’t have done what I did and I’m sorry. I’m embarrassed, really I am, but I’ve dug myself too deep. I miss you, I miss Ginny, I miss Charlie, I miss Bill, I miss Ron, I miss Mum and Dad. I even miss Fred and George. But it’s too late. I wish I had seen it before. They were right, you were right. I can’t let them know that. I feel so ashamed. I want to help them, but I also want to never bother them again. I saw You-Know-Who in the Ministry. I know all along that he was back, but I kept denying it for my job. But now I don’t have my family and I don’t have you, so my job is all I have. Please know that anything you see from me from this moment forward doesn’t represent my heart. You’re right, I don’t remember how many letters ago it was, but you said I wasn’t the person you fell in love with. You couldn’t have hit the nail on the head any better. There’s barely any left of that Percy, just his shell. So really, I shouldn’t be talking to you at all. I’m not the person you committed to. But I still love you. It’s total wishful thinking that I can have you back, but hoping is the only thing that keeps me from going insane. Bill wrote me a letter saying that he was engaged. I don’t want to face my family but I’ll go if I can see you.

Love, Percy

Percy,

I felt like I should write you one last letter because despite myself, I still care. I want to give you closure. It’s clear to me that you’re never coming home, which is clear symbolism that you are never going to do the right thing. You said it yourself in your letters, you’re digging your heels in and standing by the ministry. You’re a filthy coward.

Yes, Bill is getting married in a few months. We’re all very busy with preparations, it seems like that’s the only good thing that’s happening around here. You have an invitation, of course, but you shouldn’t come if you just want to see me. If I see you, I will make a scene and there will be more than just mashed parsnips being thrown at you (yes, Fred and George told me about how you visited just for the benefit of the Ministry. It’s pathetic, really). Your mum is convinced you will show up to the wedding and everything will be magically better. I know you better than that. I wish I was in blissful ignorance and thought you still loved us all, but you don’t. You’re not going to be able to get your head out of your ass until it’s one of us that’s laying lifeless somewhere because of the monsters of people that the Ministry have allowed to roam for so long. I know where you stand and you know where I stand. So there’s nothing else to say.

I’m sending back all the things of yours that I have. You should receive them all with this letter. Please write back if I missed anything.

Sincerely,

Penelope Clearwater

#percy weasley #fred weasley #george weasley #hp #hp fanfic #harry potter

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buckleyydiaz · 5 years ago

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Dirty, Dirty

Moreid, 2.9k words. Also on ao3

Reid had been perfectly happy just fantasizing about the dream life that he wanted to have with Morgan. He let himself think that anyway, but it didn’t take much for everything to all come tumbling down around him.

Derek had bullied Reid into going to a club with him and the girls, finally wearing down the resistance Spencer only ever showed to try and hide just how much he truly wanted to be with the older man.

They walked into a building that was far too loud for Spencer’s own tastes, with lights too bright, music turned up too high, and too many sweaty people crowding on the dance floor. And whilst that phased Spencer slightly, he continued on, willing to sacrifice his own comfort and ease to see Morgan look so happy, so carefree.

It was something he didn’t see enough of on his co-worker’s face, not with the reality of the job being what it was. Anger, focus, and carefully concealed sadness most often graced Derek’s face, so the change was a relief.

But Spencer had already noticed a change, before they had driven to the bar, before Spencer had even said yes to going.

Derek had been happier over the last few days, less on edge when on the most recent case, less bored when doing his paperwork. It seemed as though something else had taken over the forefront of his mind, the same way that thought of Morgan had taken over Spencer’s.

Spencer had always been acutely aware of his feelings for Morgan, from early on in his career in the BAU. It was just a fact of his life, something that he lived with, never speaking about it or acting on it, leaving those thoughts to himself, as company for lonely nights in bed, or just when he wanted to feel like his future was actually going somewhere, like he could have the family that he had dreamed of since he was young, a desire that had always been pushed back as unimportant compared to his academic pursuits.

And Reid knew the thoughts weren’t something he should have been having. He shouldn’t be thinking of his best friend in that way, it was dirty, wrong, but he couldn’t help himself. It wasn’t his fault that Morgan, despite generally coming off as a straight man, occasionally seemed to throw him hints, taking the flirting just a step too far to be friendly.

That didn’t make it easier when he looked up from the back of his friends’ heads which he had been following through the club, to see a woman sitting at the table to which they were headed. It didn’t make it hurt any less when Derek turned and grinned at him, Prentiss, JJ and Garcia, and began to introduce them to the vaguely familiar woman in front of them.

“Hey!” Derek called out, capturing the girl’s attention, “These are my friends, Emily, JJ, Penelope, and Spence. Guys, this is Alexa.”

At that moment, Spencer began to lose all focus on what was happening. He took a seat at the table, not trusting his legs to hold him up, and lost control to his mind.

Of course the woman looked familiar. All it took was the name and he knew exactly who he was looking at. Alexa Lisbon, the girl from his highschool who was behind the most humiliating moment of his life, the girl who came up with the master plan to tie a twelve year old boy up to a goalpost, naked, by tricking him into thinking that for once, something good was happening to him. The girl who he had named in a story that Morgan clearly hadn’t cared enough to remember.

He looked at her, seeing that she hadn’t made the same connection that he had, hadn’t realised that the man standing in front of her was once the nerdy boy she had loved to torment. He looked at the way she had her head leaning against the crook of Derek’s neck as they stood side by side.

Spencer couldn’t help but wonder what Morgan saw in that… that bitch, that he didn’t see in Reid. Maybe she was closer to Derek’s age, was the one who wore designer clothing and had perfect hair, skin, and a gorgeous face, but surely Morgan wasn’t that superficial, could look past, see all the things that Spencer had and Alexa didn’t.

He sat there, for what seemed like it was much longer than it realistically was. When he realised people were trying to talk to him, and he was just ignoring them, he hurriedly excused himself, leaving to his car under the guise of going to the bathroom. He would send Emily a message in a few minutes, but he was so uncomfortable there that escaping the discomfort won out over his need to be polite.

Crying in his car. Spencer had never been known for having interesting weekends or nights out, but this truly had to be an all time low. He was sitting in his small old car, crying over a man who chose a horrid girl over him, a man who had so much more to offer.

Contrary to popular belief, especially amongst the team, despite not being as stereotypically masculine as the rest of the men of the BAU, Spencer had never been one to wallow in his own misery, or be overly insecure. He knew his abilities, and had long ago accepted and understood his shortcomings.

In a way, that made it harder for him to get over the Derek and Alexa thing. He knew he was better than her - more genuine, smarter, kinder, more professional, didn’t enjoy bringing harm on innocent young boys who just wanted to be liked. He could acknowledge that he wasn’t as typically beautiful as Alexa, but Derek had always referred to him as “Pretty Boy,” and surely that had to count for something.

He knew he didn’t have long before someone went looking for him, reminding him to text Emily - the one who was least likely to try and hunt him down, interrogate him. He wished he was strong enough to stay, to just prove to Derek what he was missing, but he wasn’t that type of person. He wasn’t the kind of person to go out and find another guy or girl to prove his point, so he was just stuck, jealousy burning inside himself.

With each tear that fell down his cheeks, his anger at the bitch in the club with his friends rose. It should be Spencer spending time with Derek, dating him, fucking him, cuddling him, loving him. Not a girl who cared more about what they looked like than if they cared for each other, if they were perfect together in the way that Morgan and Reid could be, would be.

So he was the one sitting alone, wishing that Derek would finally see who was right in front of him, had been, for all the years they had known each other.

Derek could tell something was wrong from the moment he had introduced Alexa. Spencer became guarded, closed, and his mind drifted to something else.

At first, he couldn’t tell what had happened to cause it. He had expected his best friend to be happy that he had found a beautiful, kind woman to be with, but instead he seemed angry, even sad.

He tried his best to keep his focus on the conversation, playing the charming, happy boyfriend that he was supposed to be, had to be, in order to keep up appearances. But it felt odd, almost unnatural, especially when Spencer was ignoring them all when they tried to talk to him.

“Sorry, excuse me, I need to go to the bathroom,” was the first that they had heard from him all night beyond the initial exchange of ruched awkward pleasantries. Spencer raced off, out of sight, and Derek had to resist the strong urge to follow him, to make sure he was okay.

Because Spencer was his best friend. And no one would want a friend that close to go on feeling uncomfortable or out of place. It wasn’t right.

But it wasn’t right for him to up and leave for no real reason, either. Spencer had said he was going to the bathroom, and there was no real reason to suspect anything different, other than the pit of dis-ease growing in his stomach.

As the time ticked by, seemingly dragging on for as long as it could, Morgan grew increasingly restless, concerned for his Pretty Boy. A phone buzzed from its position on the table. When Emily flipped hers over to check, she saw a notification, reading it out to the rest of them.

“I am not feeling well, and I am going to go home. Don’t worry about me, have fun.”

Barring Alexa, they all turned to each other, concerned by being told not to worry. It was uncharacteristic for Spence to just up and leave, especially with just a text message, even if he was ill.

Unable to sit still and do nothing any longer, Morgan stood up.

“I’m going to go and see if he has left yet. This isn’t like him, I’m a bit worried.”

Alexa looked up at him and pouted, getting on his nerves. Spencer would never do that, he thought, he would be too worried about the other person. It's so selfish of her, maybe she was just a pretty face.

Derek walked off towards the car park, wondering what the hell had happened to make Spencer so upset. He didn’t enjoy going to clubs, but he never reacted like that. So it had to be something to do with Alexa.

Nothing reasonable came to mind. It wasn’t like his Pretty Boy to be jealous, and judging off the women Derek had seen him with before, Alexa wasn’t even his type. It had to be something else then. Something personal, something serious enough to make him betray the manners that were usually important to him.

That was when everything began to click into place. His childhood. His Pretty Boy had been bullied and teased relentlessly, and he remembered Alexa telling him that she had grown up in Las Vegas. Oh shit, he thought. The case, where Owen Savage went around shooting people who had wronged him, when they had been alone in the boy’s room.

An Alexa Lisbon had been the one who had used herself as bait, in a situation ending up with Spencer tied naked to a goal post, left there for hours until some teacher had found him and untied him.

No wonder Spencer left, and it was his fault for being a stupid idiot who forgot about his best friend telling him one of the moments that would stick with him for the rest of his life, haunt him.

Spencer’s car was still in the car park, and as much as Derek wanted to go and talk to him, apologise more than anyone would believe to be humanly possible, he wasn’t sure it was the right thing to do, or if it would just make things worse for Spence, a reminder of how much his supposed best friend had fucked up.

Instead, he decided to walk back inside, a newfound sense of purpose taking over. He was breaking up with her, in front of everyone, because she deserved to feel the same humiliation she had brought upon Spencer, and if this did anything towards achieving that, he would be happy.

As he approached the table, glaring, JJ, Emily and Garcia looked shocked, and Alexa looked confused.

“How could you… you absolute bitch! I can’t believe I dated you, you are absolutely disgusting! How could anyone do that to a 12 year old boy? Get away from me, or I swear to god…”

A look of realisation dawned on all of their faces, although his colleagues still looked shocked, and slightly confused, whilst Alexa seemed to just get angry.

“That was Spencer Reid? Really? How could a man like you want anything to do with someone like him?”

Suddenly his team mates no longer looked concerned, instead just angry, ranging from pissed off to murderous.

Before Derek even had a chance to say anything, his Baby Girl stood up.

“I think you are going to leave now, because you don’t want to know what is gonna happen to you otherwise. Maybe every computer and phone you have ever owned will stop working? How does that sound?”

Alexa recoiled, and began to walk away from the four angry FBI agents.

“Well this has been a night,” Emily said, “Is Spencer okay?”

Derek realised that he hadn’t even checked up on Spence, and became alarmed, hoping that he was still in his car outside the club.

“I didn’t get the chance to talk to him. I realised who she was, and then I came straight back in to get rid of her.”

The girls turned and looked at him like he was an idiot.

“Really Morgan? Go and check if he is still there! Talk to him.” JJ instructed.

Feeling rather reprimanded, he headed back out into the cold night, looking for Spencer’s car. To his luck, he found it, still parked where it had been earlier.

He paused for a minute, unsure of what to say if he could get Spencer to talk to him, because a million apologies would not be enough to make up for what he had done.

Knocking on the window of the locked car, he prayed that Spencer would hear him. It hurt him to see his friend looking the way he did, his head in his hands, crying. When the first few knocks went unanswered and likely unheard, he tried again, louder.

That seemed to draw Spencer out of his own mind. He gestured for Morgan to go away, but he stood his ground. Derek wasn’t leaving his Pretty Boy in such a state.

Spencer finally relented after a few more minutes, very aware of how stubborn Derek could be when he wanted to.

Before the door was even fully open, before he was in the car, Derek was apologising. The remorse he felt could not be put into words.

“Spencer, I’m so sorry. I didn’t even realise who she was, but she is gone now, you can come back. I’m unbelievably sorry.”

Derek paused for a moment, expecting Spencer to say something back, but instead a silence enveloped the car.

As he opened his mouth to continue on his tirade of apologies, Spencer cut him off.

His voice was rough and unsteady as he spoke.

“What did you see in her?” He asked.

The question took Derek by surprise, his mouth opening slightly as he struggled to come up with an answer.

“I mean it Derek, what did you see in her?”

Spencer no longer sounded quite so sad, insistence and anger controlling his voice.

Derek remained silent, as no words came to his head. It was something akin to vanity, but not quite. She was beautiful, yes, and they’d look good together, but it was largely a distraction from other things. Things that he didn’t want to feel. Things that he couldn’t come to terms with feeling.

“What does she have that I don’t, Morgan?” He recoiled at the use of his last name, “She’s prettier, I know that, but surely I’m smarter, kinder? I know I’m far from perfect, but I’m better than her, surely.”

Derek’s thoughts were racing through his head, and he could barely keep up with them. What did that mean? Did Spencer just want to prove that she was horrible, and he shouldn’t have dated her, or was he saying something else, something that meant maybe he could finally dig up the feelings he had attempted to bury years ago.

“I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t be having these thoughts about you, that I have no right to be jealous, but it’s hard when you flaunt that you are dating a stupid bitch who I know I am better than!”

So Spencer did feel that way towards him. And he was right. As always. Derek would be better off with Spencer than with Alexa, or any of the other girls just like her that he had dated over the years. He just hated that it had taken hurting his friend to realise that.

“Why do you always have to be right Spencer? I am so sorry that I dated her, that I forgot what you told me, that I never connected the dots. I just saw a chance, a chance to make my life easier, by dating a woman, rather than ever even trying to get the person I actually want. And it hurt you. I’m sorry.”

“You should go back to the club. The girls are probably wondering where you are. I’m just going to head home.”

“No, Pretty Boy, come on. You should come back in. The girls are really worried about you. But before that, I want to try something. Tell me no, and I’ll stop, but I think we both want this.”

Derek slowly leaned in, giving Spencer plenty to back out, pull away, but their lips connected.

When they finally pulled away, a comfortable silence rested over the car.

“How about we head back in now, before the girls come looking for us,” Derek said, and they laughed, before leaving the car, and walking to the club again, this time, hand in hand.

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melmac78 · 5 years ago

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A “What if” TAG scene from the finale

(This is a “what if” alternate version of what happened to the Hood after his capture in the finale - The Long Reach Part 2, based on a screencap @lenle-g posted with Alan and Gordon restraining him. It’s also a means to possibly explain Virgil and Jeff’s exchange later on I’ve seen. Some minor spoilers).

*********

The Hood was furious. He had just about succeeded in his scheme to take over the T-Drive engine when it abruptly stopped.

He should’ve known that International Rescue would consider a failsafe to protect their only means home. That EMP was painful to his electronic eye, but rebooting it was easy.

The T-Drive? - no, to his dismay. He wanted to leave the brats with their Dad in space permanently. But the Hood conceded that he could acquire all the Thunderbirds this way.

So, he had to wait for one of the Tracys to come back. After knocking Brains unconscious with a milder version of the stun stick - he was greedy, but not stupid to kill the engineer at the moment - and locked him in the storage closet, he took on the role.

When Gordon and Virgil Tracy came in, the Hood was excited - he could now force them to transfer all the Thunderbirds codes to him, and then leave all of them on the remains of the planetoid.

Alas… Virgil had him.

Jeff… Tracy.

Alive.

Worse, Jeff Tracy knew his engineer too well, and the real Brains escaped his closet with that spider robot of his.

Now, the Hood was being manhandled by the two youngest Tracy brothers, being lectured by their damned indestructible father about needing a better hobby, or whatever blather the man was on now.

Then came the dreaded words: Storage cabinet.

He groaned, as he was led away from the flight deck to the cabinet.

Gordon and Alan started quickly bundling him in rope, when he finally spoke. “So, you’re going to put me in a storage closet? How pathetic,” he said.

The aquanaut growled. “We could always leave you on the last bit of the planetoid,” he snapped.

“Oh yes, I know… but you are so better than me,” rolled the Hood’s eyes. “But are you sure the closet is safe? What if I get killed when the T-Drive is engaged again?”

Alan shrugged. “You survived the last jump,” he said.

“So it would seem… but I wasn’t tied up and in a storage compartment,” said the villain with a sneer. “Wouldn’t you rather ensure I get back alive? You’d rather not have my death on your conscience…”

Gordon pulled the cord tighter, making the Hood grunt. “We’ll take our chances,” he said.

The Hood merely chuckled darkly. “So… you still have a bone to pick with me I see…”

“Damn right, you nearly killed me in my Thunderbird underwater,” said the younger man. “And if it were up to me, you would be staying where Dad lived for eight years… because of your greed.”

Alan however looked at Gordon and shook his head. “Gordo… he isn’t worth it,” he said gently. “We have you, we have Dad, and soon the Hood will be in jail forever.”

“You’re right… come on, let’s get him in the closet.”

The Hood however sneered. “Really? You sure about that?” he said, right eye glittering. “Wouldn’t it be easier for you to let me go?”

Gordon shook his head. “No… you’re staying here,” he growled.

“No, I don’t think so,” said the Hood, glancing at Alan… the one he felt would see reason.

The youngest winced at the look, feeling a flash of pain, but then a calm. There was a voice… telling him to let the Hood go… any means necessary...

The aquanaut however rolled his eyes. “Yes, you are - question is are you going to travel back conscious or unconscious,” he scorned, holding his left hand in a fist.

The Hood merely chuckled. “Don’t you think you should ask yourself that question?” he said darkly.

Gordon narrowed his eyes slightly at the comment. “Wait…” he started only to see a quick movement.

At that moment, he was thankful for years of pillow fighting Alan kept his senses honed, and that moment, intact.

He ducked one of Alan’s swings, only instead of a pillow, it was a spanner from the supply closet.

Gordon quickly reorientated himself. “Alan, what are you…” he started, only to see the youngest with a blank look.

Scarier was the fact Alan’s pupils were so wide, the irises were a thin band of blue sapphire.

“What the?...” the aquanaut started.

The Hood then laughed. “Kill him Alan,” said the man.

“FAB,” said Alan robotically, and pushed off.

Gordon prepared for the hit, but while Alan was small, he was faster. The impact briefly took the aquanaut’s breath, but he recovered as the two grappled.

“Alan, it’s me… your brother,” said the older man as he avoided one of Alan’s swings with the wrench.

The youngest still had the blank look on his face, still obeying the Hood’s orders.

“He isn’t going to hear you Gordon, only me,” said the villain, laughing maniacally.

Gordon tried to get to the Hood to stop him, but Alan put himself between the two, again swinging the improvised weapon.

The aquanaut barely missed becoming that year’s jack-o-lantern.

He growled and looked at the situation. Based on the villain’s chuckles, and the youngest planning his next mode of attack, Gordon realized Alan was not going to stop until he succeeded in his order…

Unless… no.

Gordon inwardly frowned at his options. He knew though if he didn’t stop his brother, the Hood would continue using Alan until everyone was dead.

He reached up for his IR comm, but shortly after hitting it, Alan this time threw the spanner into Gordon’s gut. The aquanaut heard a muttered inquiry as the youngest charged, wrapping his hands around Gordon’s throat.

“Alan...please...stop,” choked out the aquanaut, but the pressure kept building. He could barely hear concerns over the comm… or he thought there were.

The aquanaut then moved his arms up and out, breaking Alan out of the hold. The astronaut spun slightly, allowing Gordon to grab his brother from behind. After pinning Alan’s arms with his legs in a strange take of a piggyback ride, the aquanaut wrapped an arm around the teen’s neck.

He struggled with the youth, even getting bit hard on the arm, but Gordon held on, preparing himself for what was coming next.

The aquanaut knew plenty of self defense skills, some taught by Kayo, but others taught to him during his tenure at WASP and by Lady Penelope. Ways to kill, maim, incapacitate.

Gordon never thought he’d have to render his brother unconscious using one.

Lesser of the two evils at the moment, he reasoned.

“I’m sorry Allie,” he said, gently adding pressure to the teen’s carotid artery.

Alan snarled and tried to fight the inevitable, but in moments, went limp.

Gordon waited a moment longer to ensure the teen was not faking, and between a quick assessment and the Hood’s growls of frustration, confirmed his brother was unconscious.

He gently maneuvered the insensate teen to a harness nearby, securing him in it just in case the spell wasn’t broken when Alan came to. After Gordon softly cupped his brother’s jaw, brushing his cheekbone in apology, he then turned to the Hood.

The man’s near glee in his smirk, watching Gordon harm his brother became too much to bear.

“You son of a…” roared Gordon, grabbing the Hood by the lapels. He then punched the Hood in the nose, breaking it. The villain screamed in pain, as the younger man then followed up with a punch to the jaw.

Gordon drew back to hit him again, this time in the electronic eye, when a firm but kinder hand rested on his shoulder. He turned to throw another punch, only to find the person was dark haired. “Gordon… stand down,” said Scott, firmly.

The aquanaut slightly lowered his fist and glared. “No, Scott, not this time!” he said, pushing away slightly.

“He’s not worth it…”

“Like hell Scott. The Hood just made Alan nearly kill me… he would’ve stranded us,” said the aquanaut, looking at John and Virgil as they checked a recovering Alan. “He deserves to get dumped on an asteroid for eight years.”

This time however an even more gentle hand rested on his shoulder. “No son… no one deserves that, not even the Hood,” said Jeff giving his fourth son a gentle squeeze.

“But what he did to you… to Alan just now...” said Gordon, tearing up. “He’s almost killed all of us Dad. Nearly got me when his goons shot down rock chimneys in the sea - if I hadn’t healed a month ago I wouldn’t be here...”

Jeff furrowed his brow in concern and looked at the eldest in query. Scott shook his head, giving a look that read ‘we’ll explain later.’

The patriarch winced inwardly. Damn the Hood - he hurt his family far too much, for too long while he was stuck in the Oort Cloud.

But the time to talk about the evils of the Hood was for another time when they could all heal better.

Jeff nodded and continued. “I know Gordon, but Alan will be awake soon, I’m here and you’re here. Let go of the hate,” he said, glaring at the Hood. “But we need to find a way to ensure you can’t try to escape again.”

“Right,” Scott said, and turned to Virgil. “Sedatives?”

Virgil shook his head. “None strong enough to keep the Hood under the entire trip,” he said. “John could put him under anesthesia but I don’t recommend it.”

“I agree. Too many risks to list,” said John, who then tilted his head. “There is however the stasis chamber.”

Gordon rolled his eyes slightly. “Stasis chamber? Why didn’t we put him there in the first place” he said exasperated.

Virgil looked at their father, and decided he needed to tell the truth. “Because I wasn’t sure how badly Dad might need it when we found him. Still am not,” he admitted. “If Dad’s injuries were too severe, putting him in stasis would keep him from going critical during the jump.”

Jeff frowned. Yeah, he was feeling rough, but the scanner hadn’t completed the analysis.

That said, he had already survived eight years in outer space, and while he knew he was going to be suffering from weak bones - even with his exercises, several space related illnesses along with more culture shock, there was no choice.

“Son...” Jeff started, making all the conscious brothers turn. He faltered a bit, seeing their worry.

Virgil however saw the look in his father’s eyes and frowned. There was no doubt he was thinking the same thing as his Dad and came to the same conclusion. He hated the Hood could be using an item that his father may need more.

But he knew they all were in agreement: they couldn’t risk any of them going through what Alan did - or worse. “We put him in stasis,” Virgil said. “Agreed?”

Scott, John and Jeff nodded.

“F-A-B” said Gordon firmly, glaring at the villain. He then saw his youngest brother, now fully conscious, if slightly confused, from the sleeper hold, then looked back at the Hood. “First though, I want you to apologize to Alan for what you did.”

“And if I refuse,” said the Hood defiantly. There wasn’t much more the Tracys could do to him without a guilty conscience afterward.

“You remember what I said about coming back home conscious or unconscious?” Said the aquanaut with a smirk.

“Yes?...” said the villain, confused.

“Stasis chambers can be set for either condition - indefinite amount of time,” said Gordon. “So… unless you want to spend heaven knows how long stuck in the chamber conscious… I suggest you apologize.”

The Hood looked around at the six pairs of eyes, all but one - Alan was a bit perplexed why he earned an apology, focused on him with glares lethal as corrosive acid.

So the villain, seeing his options, did the one thing he could do.

He apologized, profusely. Better to get it over with than see that hate for years maybe... and not being able to retort back.

***********

A half an hour later, Alan and Gordon were steering themselves back into the flight deck of the T-Drive, with the Hood safely snoozing in stasis. He would remain there until the GDF picked him up.

They were nearing the entrance when the youngest brother stopped his immediate elder one. “Gordon, I’m so sorry I attacked you,” Alan said, having heard the full story of what happened.

“And I’m sorry I had to knock you out,” said Gordon, giving his brother a gentle hug in apology. He let go, shuddering. “I’m just thankful all those years pillow fighting kept me from being brained.”

“Me too,” said Alan, shaking slightly too in memory of the briefing. “Given the options, I’d rather you put me to sleep instead of using your head as a drum.”

Gordon snorted. “You’ve done that before you know,” he said.

“Yeah, but when you had your helmet on, and me using my hands,” kidded Alan. Still seeing the slight sadness in his brother’s eyes, he smiled in sympathy. “Thanks for punching him for me - even if Scott and Dad didn’t like you doing it.”

“You’re welcome Alan, and I’m glad you got to see him react to my threat,” he said. “I never thought he’d apologize so fast even with the lie.”

Alan quirked an eyebrow. “Lie? You threatened him being put in stasis awake if he didn’t say sorry,” he said.

Gordon chuckled. “Alan… Brains’ chambers put the person under once they get settled in,” he explained.

“So, the Hood was going to be unconscious once he got inside,” said Alan, and seeing Gordon nod, furrowed his brow. “Ok, then why did you threaten him otherwise?”

“You know that look Scott and Virgil give when they’re angry at us?”

“Yeah…”

“Can you imagine that from six pairs of those eyes staring at you for who knows how long you're in the chamber and not be able to be a smart alec back,” pointed out Gordon.

Alan paused for thought, shivering briefly. “Yeah… I think between the punching and the images in his head… the Hood would take the easy way out and apologize to us, then get knocked out,” he said, then laughed.

“Me too. I think though he’ll be even better off in jail… preferably staying in the chamber,” said Gordon.

Both grinned at that thought.

“FAB, let’s get ready to go home,” said Alan as the doors opened.

*****************

On the flight deck, Virgil was getting their father buckled into his seat. He was making sure everything was secure so their Dad wasn’t injured further.

He saw the scans: they weren’t good, but Jeff didn’t have anything critical needing the stasis chamber. That said, he still wished he could’ve put his father inside to have a smoother trip.

*Damn Hood…* he thought.

Jeff however looked down at his son, and smiled softly in sympathy. He wasn’t as good of a medic as Virgil had grown to be, but he knew his son’s tells.

He too wished that Virgil had the option to use the stasis chamber. Not only would it be less painful for him to transition to earth’s gravity, it would ease his second eldest’s worries some if he were sleeping.

But he’d gladly endure some pain if it meant the Hood couldn’t cause any more to his sons. He had enough pain seeing the footage of a hypnotized Alan attacking Gordon.

Some cases, he wished they let Gordon get in one more punch… nah, if Col. Casey was still in charge of the GDF, he had a feeling the Hood would much rather stay in stasis permanently.

Right now though, he needed to give his son some assurance. “Virgil…” he said, pausing until his son looked up. “I’m going to be OK.”

Virgil didn’t quite look into his Dad’s eyes, confirming Jeff’s thoughts. “I know Dad,” he said softly.

Jeff however, gave his son’s shoulder a squeeze, and when Virgil looked at his father’s face, he smiled. “I know I’m not right now… being in space for so long will mean it’ll be tough to get back to earth-shape so to speak, but I will be OK, and so will all of you,” he said firmly.

Virgil looked at his father’s eyes. Those grey eyes with hints of Scott’s blue, cold as gunmetal steel when angered, but warm as reactive metals when happy. “I do know Dad,” he said, smiling more genuinely. “I love you.”

“I love you too son.”

Scott smiled as he sat down in his chair, waiting for Virgil to take his place. Calls at all systems were green lit, with Virgil also adding their stowaway was also secure.

Then the eldest looked to his Dad. “Want to count us down?” he said.

Jeff looked at his sons, already proud of how they’ve grown in the past eight years, ready to defend and protect each other, and always save… even if it was the Hood.

He then smiled. “I thought you’d never ask,” Jeff said.

It was time to go home.

#thunderbirds are go fanfic #gordon tracy #virgil tracy #alan tracy #scott tracy #john tracy #jeff tracy #the hood #missing scene/alternate scene #TAG fanfic

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aveaugvstus · 5 years ago

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❛ You made a mistake. Everybody makes them. Even me. I’ve made many. It’s only fair that you made one. ❜

it’s strange how the passage of time warps and bends around the shape of the people in your life, the silhouettes they carve from the liminal space of your soul — it’s like that thing about stars and how when you’re looking up at the night sky, you’re actually looking at stars that could be already be dead a hundred years ago, their fading requiem only just now reaching earth’s stratosphere, a thousand light years away.

this is what it feels like to see vladimir standing in the door frame of his childhood bedroom looking like the ghost of fuck-ups past. ( he has no lock now, which is mildly insulting and excruciatingly patronising; he’s an addict, not bloody suicidal, but to his family the distinction might as well be non-existent. ) he looks different, and also like nothing has changed at all in a way that august can’t quite pinpoint. it’s as if he’s lost his ability to translate him; the myriad tiny, insignificant nuances and habits he used to obsessively decrypt with his very own rosetta stone, a whole stele for the vladimir yamatov script, forgotten like a dead language. or maybe he no longer cares to. he doesn’t know if that should make him feel nostalgic, or furious, or bittersweet. feeling particularly strongly about anything these days is a herculean task in and of itself. which, he supposes, was the original sin that instigated everything to begin with.

he thinks he can remember asking vladimir to come home.

he thinks he can almost remember begging, knees in the dirt and gravel scraping his flesh raw, over voicemail like a needy fling who had accidentally gone and done the thing you and every other idiot knows you’re not supposed to do, and fallen.

he thinks he might have begged for absolution.

but that could have also been the sixth line of blow cut with ketamine and procaine and only god and the devil knows what else ( he’d been desperate, it was three a.m. in camden ) and he’s composed text messages nay, goddamn fucking letters, ad nauseam, ad infinitum, like he’s on the receiving end of some dear john bullshit, and he’s never been sure which of them actually made it to the send button. he’s smashed, or lost, or misplaced, half a dozen phones, for all the futile effort to replace them. collateral damage in the dawning realisation that vladimir wasn’t replying because he was mercilessly leaving him on read, but because he wasn’t receiving them at all, and judging by his infrequent instagram updates, was doing absolutely fine / fuck him, happy / having the time of his fucking life on his primitive anti-tech detox.

for a moment, he entertains the fleeting, whimsical distraction that this could be yet another delusion. after all, he’s conjured vladimir enough times that this wouldn’t be unusual. ( why, sometimes i’ve believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast. ) he has imagined vladimir heartsick, wretchedly beside himself with guilt. he has painted him alabastrine, cold and immovable, patron saint raphael of the lost and the meek indifferent to august’s self-inflicted torment. he has envisioned him lit with madness, seized in catastrophic rage, gripping him by the jaw and rattling his bones till he might see reason. there were other imaginings, too, steeped in the unspeakable, tauntings of an uninhibited mind free to conceptualise the reality of its most ludicrous desire. in the worst dream, the most terrible, most fantastical one, vladimir comes home because of him. for him. it plays out like the final scene of a cult romantic comedy, or the odyssey, maybe, much-enduring odysseus returning home to penelope at last. two shadows, reaching through the hopeless, heavy dusk, their hands meeting as light spills in a flood, the sky pouring out the sun. and he would take his other-soul’s face in his hands and kiss him and say the words this lifetime’s vladimir would never say.

there is, of course, a singular difference in this one. this vladimir. the vladimir he filled his dreams with never looked at him like this. with this curious amalgamation of horror and — most tellingly so; am i not what you expected, vladimir? how did you imagine you would find me? beatific? flourishing? — disgust.

august knows what he looks like. five shades too pale and ashen, like the vivacity has been drained right out of him. a layer of grease shines in his hair, the fade he alway maintains with meticulous care and precision grown out into his natural, unruly curls. he’s not quite skeletal, his frame was always too lean and muscular for that, but he seems perilously thin for his height. it shows in his face, he knows even though he’s been avoiding mirrors and isn’t allowed one anyway, because a) addicts use those to cut their coke, and b) suicidal ones might be inclined to break them, he knows because of the way his mum looks at him when she comes into his room to bring him his meals three times a day like a convict. it hurts him a little, more than the physical pain of looking at vladimir, of hearing his voice, that he sees him like this. he had not been informed in advance that vladimir would come calling. if he had, he would’ve — he doesn’t know what he would’ve done ( attempted an escape, maybe; broken his twelve-day sobriety, maybe ) but he might’ve. cleaned up a little. tried to look less like a shell of himself. augustus has always been vain, has always been a gilded, preening thing who took great pride in being pretty and well-loved for it. it pains him. not to be even that anymore. he is rusted. tarnished.

if he had known, maybe he would have told vladimir not to come.

now that he is here, he is split in two, cleaved in half by the urge to tell him to go and the more pressing compulsion to make him stay to never go never leave again never go anywhere that is out of his sight out of his life out of him.

his ambivalence makes him poor company and a poorer conversationalist. not that this is entirely his fault — what are they supposed to do? chat about the weather and trade perfunctory banter just to fill the air? he’d rather do a line right here in front of vladimir.

your hair is longer, august had said. the only thing other than what are you doing here, which had come out of his mouth, part-shock and part-petulance, when his mother had opened the door and presented vladimir like some screwed-up surprise gift for reaching a whopping week and a half of not being a fucking disappointment to everyone around him. so, now he can disappoint the person that matters most fundamentally, tortuously, to him in the world, too. how delightful.

vladimir’s hair being longer is the only thing he can think to say that doesn’t make him want to give in to the pulverising sensation in his head, in his bones, in his chest, screaming for a deus ex machina reprieve. if this is what they have come to — the two of them, who had spent their entire lives talking about nothing and everything till they could anticipate exactly what the other’s response would be — augustus is glad he didn’t come home sooner. he looks handsome, which feels like another slight against august’s pride. rugged and sun-soaked like a male model cum travel influencer, but one that actually does something meaningful with his life. time, and sunlight, and the kind of hard labour that builds muscle definition and character, has certainly been kinder to him than it has been to august. he doesn’t say you look good because that would sound like he has any remotely positive feelings towards this interaction, and, indeed, the cause of vladimir’s looking like a golden, newly-anointed demi-god. it seems they have traded places. or maybe vladimir is exactly who he was always supposed to be. and august is, too.

august supposes it’s the silence, and the reality that vladimir cannot abide it either, that prompts him to say what he does.

what happened?

he doesn’t say anything for a long moment, he drifts in the absence of an answer because he is allowed to, because he is technically, partially an invalid now, and people who are sick are allowed to be not altogether there.

( sick. malaised. he likes this word for it. he likes that there is a scientific explanation for what he is. a brain disease. a diagnosable mental illness. see, vladimir, he almost wants to say, a little deranged part of him finally gleeful at not having a pedestal to stand on anymore, you aren’t special. i’m fucked up now, too. )

well, vladimir. it’s a very long story that i don’t care to repeat as i’ve recounted the tales to you so many times through missives you were never inclined to respond to. there was angel, and bennie, there was emmy, and good old molly. ah, and charlie, my favourite of the lot. ours was a whirldwind love affair. but it turns out i loved him more than he loved me. seems like i have a nasty little habit of doing that. it’s one i haven’t learned to kick yet.

god — august...

it’s the look of wrenching disgust, again. the thing that twists and snakes across vladimir’s face and awakes something snarling and animal shackled to august’s throat, something that slams into him chest-first and doesn’t stop until it’s gone right through him, left him raw, all bloodied edge and teeth.

what happened? what happened? what’s the point of asking now when it’s all been said and done. how long am i supposed to carry this black mark? until everyone around me deigns to let me bury it? i’m not a fucking child.

it’s not an explanation, which is what vladimir is after. he would know, however, if he had bothered to answer august any of those times. he would know, he would have known, if he hadn’t left august in their bed that morning at the warwickshire summer palace and run from everything they’d ever touched. they’d had the world world in their hands in that bed, in that room, in that place of stolen summer outside of time, outside of life itself. they could have had — everything. everything august had to give. and he gave it, and vladimir looked him in the eye and decided it was not for him.

you made a mistake. everybody makes them. even me. i’ve made many. it’s only fair that you made one.

he feels each word grate right through him, each syllable catching on his skin like little knives, the thin strand keeping him tethered to the present grinding down into dust and bone. he doesn’t blame vladimir for what happened to him. he blames him for leaving. but it’s a mistake that vladimir won’t — can’t acknowledge because to do that, he would have to admit to the thing he doesn’t want to say, or can’t say, and august can’t make him say it. that’s what made him do it, the first night at that grimy, filthy club in the berlin underground. that’s what made him want to trade his soul for just a night of rapture so euphoric he wouldn’t have to remember how fucking miserable it was to be unloved by the one person you thought you were meant for. but then, it’s never just one night is it? it couldn’t have been. you don’t get over something like that with one goddamn night.

( if august were honest, and his heart not surrendered, he would say it was this, too: that vladimir could walk away from them, has always been able to walk away, and think nothing of it. him. that vladimir had found purpose and higher meaning in something other than themselves and the stupid, foolish, boyish dreams they used to talk about like they might someday happen. that august had disappointed him somehow by, what, not being enough? not living up to the unearned greatness that vladimir saw in him and was supposedly the only person in the world who could? that vladimir would forge a path for himself in life that diverged from august and not feel his soul rending itself in half to be half a world away from him, and survive it. — it was enough to ruin him then, it still ruins him now. )

“if you’ve come all this way just to lecture to me, you can sod the fuck off back to phuket or hanoi or fucking antarctica if that’s what you want. maybe there’s some disease-riddled penguins out there that you can save to sate your saviour complex. saint francis of assisi. a non-shitty mother teresa. malala.”

he’s exhausted before the first word leaves his mouth, strung out just with the effort of starting, but he can’t stop them now any more than he can stop the hunger and thirst clawing at his head howling for a drop of blood, a pound of flesh, any part of him that it can cannibalise in retribution for starving. it’s easier to be cruel than to be wounded, better to be the conqueror than the fallen — but right now it just feels like he is going through his twelfth or two hundredth day of withdrawal and the boy he loves has come back but not the way august wanted and not the way he wants to be wanted. it hurts just to look at him, it hurts to have him looking back. every part of his body aches with dependence, codependence. they’re the definition of it. see what happens to me when you are not in my life?

alexander lay on hephaestion’s bed for three days. but you are not him. you are just a spoiled, arrogant, silver-spooned nothing who will never amount to greatness, glory, or anything at all. it is no wonder he would not have you.

his rage breaks, like sea foam crashing against cliffs; it rends and shatters down the fault line mapped throughout his body, the one that winds from his throat to his sternum, down to his thighs and feet, and aches forever mostly at his heel. helpless to the unbidden trembling of his hands as he curls them around the sheets of his bed, unmoored. he looks small and disarmed, more lost than he’s ever been with vladimir by his side. it doesn’t mean the same thing anymore, does it? not if he cannot make vladimir stay. whatever they had between them — is it damaged, now. they could rebuild it, but the foundations would still bear the memory of where the cracks lie. he would still remember this look on vladimir’s face.

he has looked at him a thousand times, and there has always been an echo reverberating between them. the wavelength of an elegy he knows the words to like they are writ upon heartbeat, upon headstone. there have been other faces, but vladimir’s eyes have always been the same. fathomless as distant stars in an entire universe light years away and yet close enough to touch if he dared to. if it is fate, or circumstance, or a reiteration of the immortality that stands between them and their freedom, then he already knows how this ends. vladimir knows it, too. it doesn’t make him want it any less. it doesn’t make him suffer for it any less. this ache he has spent an eternity chasing after, this feeling of being so incandescently alive that even death cannot keep them apart, this is what vladimir ran from. augustus cannot blame him. if he was not the one who always outlived him, he’d do the same.

“is this why you came back? because you think you can save me, too?”

#SING O MUSE AND THROUGH ME TELL THE STORY. / ASK.#HE IS HALF OF MY SOUL AS THE POETS SAY. / VLADIMIR.#T. / MODERNITY.#addiction tw #drug abuse tw #suicide mention tw #this is going to make you think twice about ever casually sending me memes #hehe

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lavendermenaceart · 7 years ago

Text

Broken Pieces||Chapter 11||

Warnings: Hospitals, vomiting, blood, IV needles, drug addiction is mentioned, just a general warning.

Tag List: @stilinskis-banshee , @captainreid , @ultrarebelheart , @cynbx, @rawritsmolly

Chapter 1||Chapter 2||Chapter 3||Chapter 4||Chapter 5|| Chapter 6||Chapter 7||Chapter 8||Chapter 9|| Chapter 10||

“Alright, thank you for your time.” Another door shut behind Spencer and Emily as yet another neighbor knew and saw nothing. The fear pulsed through him, turning quickly into anger as he drove his fist into the brick wall of the building once they made it outside.

Emily looked shocked, her eyes widened and eyebrows shot up. Sure, you had snapped at her before, but she had never seen you so angry you resorted to physical violence. Your intelligence was your weapon. Her face took on a calmer and kinder expression as she reached for Spencer’s shoulder.

Spencer jerked away, raising his hands. As he turned and walked a few steps away, he pressed his palms to his eyes as the pressure built behind them along with his frustrations. He could normally come up with 100 statistics, 1,000 precise facts, but right now he couldn’t think of anything except how hopeless he felt. They had no physical evidence, no witnesses, they barely had a profile.

Emily was about to re-approach when she felt her phone ringing in her pocket. The Caller I.D was for Hotch so she didn’t even hesitate to pick up.

“Do you have anything?” Her tone was serious and flat. Spencer turned to watch her expressions during the phone call.

Her eyes widened in reaction to whatever the person on the other end of the line was saying.

“Text me the details, we’ll all be heading over right now. Thank you.” He didn’t know whether to dare let himself hope or if he should let the dread overtake him. That one sentence could mean so many things. Were they going to a crime scene to find a body, a hospital to find you fine and healthy, a hospital to watch you die?

“Police were called by a young boy. He said his mother ‘Stole a lady and she’s very sick.’ Hotch sent the address for the hospital to me.” Emily was trying to keep a brave face and an even tone. ‘Very sick’ from a child wasn’t promising, especially in their line of work.

Spencer felt like his legs were going to give out from underneath him. Since as long as he could remember, there was a constant barrier between his emotions and himself. That barrier was fitting to burst as conflicting emotions landed blow after blow on his walls. Fear for your health, Anger that he couldn’t find you sooner, worthlessness because he could have prevented this if he had just stayed the night with you when you asked, Hope that you were okay and healthy as possible and if not that, at the very least alive.

“Spencer, come on. I know it’s a lot, but she needs you.” Emily’s voice brought him back from his short break from the control he usual held over himself. He nodded, at a lost for words for once in his life as they both jogged towards the SUV, Derek and Alex following after leaving a nearby shop.

“We go the call and info. Everything going to be alright, Pretty boy, okay?” Morgan had his serious eyebrows on, Alex agreeing from somewhere behind both of the male agents.

“There will be hell to pay if it isn’t.” Emily added after they had all settled into the dark car.

Not even the jolting of the ambulance ride had woken you, but you were jolted awake when you felt a horrible pain right in the middle of your chest.

‘Oh god, i’m having a heart attack. I'm going to die.’ You wanted to sob but all the sensations were keeping you from thinking too much on your thoughts and feelings. Another jolt of pressure and pain. You heard the groan pass your lips before you really felt it. Your eyes fluttered open, burning under the bright white lights.

“Ma��am, Ma’am are you with us?” One voice came from above you.

Another from in front of you. “Patient is starting to show signs of responsiveness.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to speak, your throat destroyed from all the force and acid of the past…...however long it had been since you had entered hell. You just grunted before you felt a dry-heave spasm through your torso.

“We’re gonna need Ativan, Zofran-” The nurse or doctors or whosoever’s voice faded out as your eyes rolled back in your head again before you closed them. The pain and discomfort made you want to beg for death, or at least their strongest pain medications.

“We’re going to need and X-ray to see how bad the damage is so we can decide the best course of action.” You just wanted to pass out again. Their voices and all the lights and sounds were grating on your ears and just made your nausea worse if you were being honest.

“Alright, I’m going to be giving you medication for muscle spasms, nausea, and pain, alright? You’re most likely going to need a blood transfusion, also. Do you know your blood type?”

‘Ohmygod please stop talking to me please just give me drugs and blood, holy shit.’ Those were the only real thoughts you were having at the moment. “B….plus.” Was all you could really manage.

“Alright, thank you. We need B plus, ASAP.”

“On it!”

For the reminder of your time awake and feeling, you zoned out. It was all you could do to try to escape the pain while you waited for the medications to kick in. You were alive. In a hospital. Surely, you would be seeing Spencer soon? What if he didn’t even know that you were missing? What if he didn’t even care? You could hear your heart rate rising as new tears mingled with the old dried ones on your cheeks. Soon, you were too high to even be bothered with emotions.

In that moment, you understood. You felt close to what Spencer felt. You understood why he would choose this over you. Those were your last thoughts before the radiologist entered your room.

You stirred, more comfortable than you had felt in the past few days. Your pain was probably at a 3 or 4 instead of an outrageous 11. Something...didn’t feel right. You felt too light. Something was missing. What was missing?

‘Oh my god.’ Was all that your drug addled brain could come up with once you finally had the muscle strength to lift your head and look down. Where your right leg once was, there was now just sunken blanket.

“Y/N oh my god.” You turned your head, confused to hear a voice other than your own.

There was Spencer, standing up from the uncomfortable hospital chair, tears in his beautiful eyes. Seeing him when you thought you were never going to see him again, you didn’t care about your stupid leg. You lost 3/4ths of your right leg, but you were still alive to see that beautiful grin splay across his face as he took the one long step to bend over and hold your face in his.

You were both nose to nose, your breath intermingling. There were no real words that could be said in this moment. All the fear, anger, and hopelessness was resolved in this moment. You were filled with the love and determination Spencer always made you feel, but now more so than ever. Finally, after neither of you could decide on any words to speak, your lips crashed together.

Your lips were chapped and clumsy due to all the medication and lack of water, but Spencer didn’t show any kind of deterioration in his passion. The increasing rate of your heart could be heard through your heart monitor as you wrapped your arms around his neck, letting out a soft moan against his lips.

Spencer pulled away, kissing your nose before pressing his forehead to yours.

“I’m not great with being emotional, but god, I was so scared. I don’t think I have ever felt so afraid in my life as when I first saw your apartment.” You could hear the strain of tears in his voice. Your vision was a little blurry but you could see his eyes shining as he spoke. “I’m so sorry. I should have stayed like you asked, I should have paid more attention to your body language. I should have-”

“Spencer, Spencer stop.” You moved one hand from behind his neck to his chest. You weren’t sure you could articulate how you felt precisely, since you were high on all kinds of narcotics. but you couldn’t listen to him blame himself. “None of this is your fault. If it’s anyone’s, it’s mine. I didn’t take the threats seriously until she was at my door. Look, it’s okay. I’m okay. I’m not in one piece, but that’s fine because I’m alive with you by my side.”

You giggled at your own joke, letting him know it was fine to laugh with you. When he smiled and let out a short breathy chuckle, it filled you with more joy than you had felt in a long time. Spencer excused himself for a moment so he could call the team and let them know you were awake and okay enough to talk. For the first time in a while you felt like everything was going to be okay.

“Did you know in the United States alone, there are over 500 amputations a day? And over 185,000 every year.” It was dinner time at the hospital, and it had been a few days. Spencer and yourself were snacking on some jello and watching Animal Planet on the hospital T.V.

Hearing him spewing facts was so relieving. For the past few days, he had rarely been talking about anything other than how much he loved you and how sorry he was. You tried not to look surprised, but instead nodded your head and chuckled.

“And I’m one of them!” You glanced over at him, smiling. “It’s nice to know I’m not alone.”

“Far from it.” The gorgeous nerd reached over and patted your remaining thigh.

“Alright, love birds! Here comes the daily delivery.” Garcia’s bright and cheery voice rang through the door as she waddled in on bright blue high heels, her blush perfectly highlighting her cheeks as she grinned, holding 3 vases with mixed bouquets and 7 different cards and 2 balloons.

“Jeeze. I think I get the message, guys. You really want to me to get out of here.” You reached your arms up, enveloping Penelope in a hug before grabbing the cards as she set the vases down in water free spots were left in the hospital.

All of the cards were from the team except for one. The name you found on the inside surprised you.

Spencer picked up on your surprise and his mind must have been jumping to the worst conclusions because he immediately had his profiler face on. “Who is it from?”

“Do you remember Paula, my friend who kind of stormed out of the hospital after….the, uh, incident.”

“Yeah, Of course.” Spencer leaned over the arm of the bed to read the card over your shoulder. His face fell and you felt yours twist in anger.

“Oh, no, angel. What did she say?” Garcia hurried towards you, looking down at the card before you ripped it into pieces.

“Told you so.” Spencer read off from his photographic memory, his lips dragging down at the corners in a frown.

“What a bitch.” Garcia turned towards you. “No offense.”

“None fucking taken. If she comes up here I will personally kick her ass.” You felt Spencer’s hand on your shoulder and Penelope was shaking her head.

“Don’t waste your energy, hun. You have a group of badass FBI agents to take care of her if she tries to bother either of you.” Garcia pulled up a chair next to your bedside, taking your hand in hers. “I mean, you could absolutely take care of her yourself, but It would probably hinder the healing process.”

Garcia had been such an angel this entire time. Of course she sobbed like a baby once she first laid eyes on your leg, or lack thereof, but now you were all bantering and joking about it easily.

“You’re an angel you know that? Does the team know that? Spencer, do you know that?” You looked between the two, Garcia flapping her hand flamboyantly like she was trying to shoo you away.

“Oh, stop.”

“Yes, The team is extremely aware of how much of a blessing Garcia is.” You all laughed and for the first time since being kidnapped, you felt relatively normal. It was easy banter for the rest of the night, other members of the team entering the room to chat and wish you the best. Hotch surprised you with your own wheelchair and you nearly cried. You hadn’t been thinking ahead that far, and admittedly neither had Spencer. You were both just enjoying the fact that you were alive and in the same room for the first time in days.

You were so thankful for these humans in your life. If you had been going through this alone, in all honesty you would be dead. You were so privileged to know them and to have met them. You were going to make sure they knew that and that they felt appreciated for the rest of the time you were in their lives. For now, though, everyone but Spencer was hugging you and telling you to rest and the medication was making you pretty sleepy.

You fell asleep holding Spencer’s hand over the railing of your bed, the sounds of Animal Planet in the background.

#my fanfiction #my reider #broken pieces #criminal minds #cm #cm fanfic #cm fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reidxreader

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bazypitchandsimonsnow · 7 years ago

Text

Part of Your World

Chapter 1: a life below and the world above

Rating: T

Genre: Fluff/Angst

Word count: 2000

Chapter 1/11 (All chapters)

Summary: Simon is a young merman fascinated with the land above. He dreams of living in that incredible world. When he meets a human prince, those dreams suddenly become even more desirable.

Read on AO3

AN: Remember ages ago when I said that I was listening to a Disney song but I could not say which cause that would spoil my next fic? Probably not. Anyway, welcome one and all, to the snowbaz Little Mermaid AU no one asked for! I have done a mermaid AU before, but this is specifically based on Disney The Little Mermaid, aka the movie of my childhood.This is my first multi-chapter Carry On fic so I hope you all like it! This entire fic is dedicated to @carryonmylovelies, my amazing bestie. She has encouraged and advised me ever since this insane idea was conceived months ago. Without her love, suggestions, and support, idk where I would be. Love you girl <3

———————————————-

“Penny!” Simon whined. “I’m bored.”

Penelope grumbled and kept focus on her spell studies. She was learning more advanced stuff now. “Shut up, Simon, you’re always bored.”

Simon shifted his head on her lap, chin digging into the top of her bright purple tail. “Yeah, but I’m really bored now.”

“You could practice magic with me.”

“Don’t mock me, Pen.” He frowned, scratching at the spattering of scales on his wrist. “You know I’m shit at magic.”

“You’re not shit, just… erratic.”

Simon huffed. “That’s a much kinder word than the ones Father uses during our lessons. He prefers ‘reckless’ and ‘explosive.’”

Penelope finally put down her book. Simon was less frowning and more pouting now, bottom lip jutting out slightly. She put down her book, choosing to run her fingers over his curls as they swayed in the water instead.

“Did he yell at you again, Si?”

The merboy grunted, hiding his face in her tail even more. His own plain blue fin twitched angrily. He rarely used his words, preferring body motions and disjointed noises. Luckily, Penny had known him long enough to understand what they meant. Simon respected his father the way a child should, but over time he’d come to not like him very much. Davy never gave him any room to be himself, to explore outside of his magic studies. It was cruel to do to someone as naturally curious as Simon.

“Hey,” she said, “how about we go look at that human ship you saw yesterday? Together?”

Simon’s head jolted up. A grin spread across his face. “Really?”

“Yeah if it’ll make you stop moping.”

He nodded vigorously. “Yes yes certainly! Let’s go!”

They swam off together into the dark recesses of the ocean.

———————————————-

Every merfolk talked about how the sea was was always a gorgeous place. And it was. Filled with swirling greens and blues and violets. With brightly coloured creatures gracing the gravelly floor, it always looked like a veritable rainbow.

But Simon wasn’t interested in colourful wildlife or pretty ocean water. Those things had had never grabbed his attention. He didn’t really like the endless sea period. Where he was just supposed to wander (which bored him), practice magic (which he was awful at), or, according to his father, fight humans (which he despised most of all.) No, Simon found joy and fun in learning about what the mysterious land dwellers were like. But since he could never get to surface, what with the tail and Davy breathing down his neck, he had the next best thing; what they left behind in his own home.

“C’mon Penny c’mon! Hurry up!” Simon zipped through the water, tail almost a blur. Penny rolled her eyes as she followed him.

“My goodness Simon,” she said. “Slow down! The ship will still be there no matter how fast we get there.”

Simon swam so his head hung upside down in front of hers. His big grin was like a sunbeam shining right into her face. “Then why not go faster?!”

“Beause some of us aren’t secretly pilot whales.”

He stuck her tongue out (he always did when Penny mocked him) then flipped around and swam away quickly again. Penny followed behind. It didn’t matter how fast he went then, though. The ship was right there.

It was huge, looming over both of them. The mast was still attached and stuck out high above them. A large rock stuck right through the body. Simon had to assume it’d been down here awhile. It was all rotting, the surface covered in barnacles and sea plants. It was a total wreck. Simon loved it.

“Whoa,” he whispered with awe. “I still can’t believe humans across our waters in these big things.”

Penelope shook her head slowly. “Me neither.”

“It’s so massive! How does it not sink?!”

“I don’t know. I’ve never learned about human stuff.”

“Is it magic?”

Penny rolled her eyes. “No, Simon, of course not. Humans can’t do magic.”

Simon stuck his tongue out again and tugged on her wrist. “C’mon, let’s go!”

They swam into the massive ship. Simon brushed his webbed hand against it’s surface, feeling the soft wood and slippery algae under his fingertips. Nothing in his world was made of this material. Everything was shaped rough coral or rock. Before he found these ships, Simon had never felt an object made of something so smooth. He giggled like a little kid.

“This is incredible,” he said, spinning in the water with his arms out.

“It’s certainly something,” Penelope replied, wiping the algae off her finger.

“Aren’t you just a little awestruck, Pen? Don’t you wonder how it came to be?”

“I don’t share your weird human fascination, Si. To me, it’s just…stuff.”

Simon huffed, then dived down through a hole in the deck. There was little light, only tiny beams shining through tiny holes. Even with his highly perceptive merfolk vision, he couldn’t see much. But he did see the smallest flash of something shiny.

“Pen! I think I found something!”

He swam towards it. It was poking out of a tattered cloth. He pushed it away, and gasped. Inside were strange silver objects. They were hard and cold to the touch, bent into odd curved shapes.

“What is it?”

Simon jolted at Penelope’s sudden appearance behind him. “Jeez Penny, give me some warning.” He went back to the trinkets, picking one up that had three spikes. “I don’t know. Kinda reminds me of Father’s trident, but smaller”

Penelope snatched it out of his hand. He frowned as she examined the object. “Hm, strange. Maybe they use it to brush their hair.”

She stuck it in Simon’s bronze curls and tried to pull through them. But it got caught on his tangles. He giggled and slapped her hand away. The tool stuck out of his knotted hair.

“Maybe. Who knows.” He tried to pull out the human object. But it took a few tugs before it released. He picked up the other human trinkets, smiling softly.

“These will work great in my collection.”

Penny rolled her eyes. “You and your bloody collection.”

“Shut up it’s important to me,” Simon said with a pout.

She sighed, placing a hand on his arm. “Yeah, I know.”

Without another word, Simon dashed off. Penny followed behind. She knew where he was off to of course. To the only place he truly loved.

———————————————-

Simon’s cave was innocuous on the outside. Just an underground little hovel. Except that it was filled to the brim with outlawed items from the surface.

Outlawed was a strong word, but it was the one Simon’s father had used. He thought that because he was a powerful magic user with a big trident that meant he could outlaw things for his son. That Simon had to hate humans like him. But Simon preferred to form his own ideas. And from all he’d found, he had a hard time believing such supposedly evil creatures could make such beautiful things.

He and Penny swam in through the small secluded entrance. Simon’s eyes lit up as soon as he entered. Bioluminescent algae covered huge parts of the circular interior, with one singular hole at the top to let a bit of natural light in from above. There were shelves upon shelves of treasures that Simon had collected over the past few years, towering above the two merfolk. A wave of pure calm and happiness washed over Simon as he looked up. Here, he felt safe and happy.

“Where should I put these?” Simon said with a grin. “Next to the these things?” He swam upwards and played with small multi coloured charms on the ends of strings. “Or this thing?” He picked up a strange curly silver object just above.

Penelope couldn’t help but smile. Simon always looked so happy here. Among his strange collection of human oddities. She shrugged, usually a gesture only he used.

“Up to you, Simon. You know this shit better than I do.”

Simon swam slow circles around the cave, observing his trove. He stopped near the top and grinned broadly.

“Right here!” He shouted down. “It’s perfect.”

He jammed the three pronged one into his “bendy three stick thing” as he called it. He’d found it with three white wax rods stuck in it, but these silver objects fit just the same. He stuck three different ones in. The tiny trident, the dull blade, and the curvy dip one. Penelope sat on a rock at the bottom

“Are they supposed to go there?” She asked, face screwed up in confusion.

Simon shrugged. “I don’t know. But they fit anyway. Good enough for me.”

Penelope sighed, scooping up some of the gold discs Simon had found last month. She lounged back and played with it between her fingers. It glinted as she spun it around. Though Simon was having fun, which was great, this wasn’t what interested her. She didn’t get her friend’s human fascination. She assumed it stemmed from equal parts boredom and rebellion against his father.

“Hey, I think I hear something,” Simon yelled. He was looking up out of the hole.

“Is it a shark?” she replied.

“No. It sounds like a party or something. Above the water.”

Penelope felt the panic run through her. She whipped her head up to look at Simon. He was gazing through the hole with wide eyes and hopeful smile.

“Simon,” she said harshly. “Don’t do what I think you’re going to do. If Davy finds out…”

He gave her a mischeavous grin. Then was off like a shot through the still open door.

“Simon!”

Penelope followed after him. But he was so much faster. He was a total blue blur as he shot towards the surface.

Simon’s head burst through the water. He sucked in a deep breath of pure air. His usually floating hair was soaked flat on top of his head. It took a second for his eyes to re-adjust to the water free environment. He gasped at the sight before him.

It was like the ship below, but even better. No rot or barnacles. Just pure finished wood that cut through the waves. The hull was carved with intricate designs that had a golden finish. Huge, loud bursts of light shot off the edge and into the night sky. They sparkled like starts. Simon watched with awe. How was it doing that? Was this what humans had instead of magic? He’d never seen anything like it. Voices cheered and shouted from the ship. Against his better judgement, he swam closer and closer.

He was right up against the hull, but still couldn’t see anything. He thought about magically lifting himself like his father did, but that would probably send Simon flying knowing his magic. So, with great effort, he scaled up the side instead. He sat on a little lip on the side of the boat and peeked through the opening. Then his heart promptly stopped.

The human leaned on the opposite edge of the ship, legs crossed over one another. While everyone else shouted around him, he stayed still, focused on the contraption in his hand. It sat on his arm and he rested his chin on it. He pushed and pulled a long stick over the it’s strings. Every motion elicited an eerie tune, changing with the way he moved his long fingers across the neck.

Simon dragged his gaze over him, lingering on his every feature. He was tall and thin but defined like a statue. The fire light on the ship made his reddish-gold skin practically glow. His face was made of sharp lines, from his cheekbones to his jaw, which were all screwed up in concentration over the strange machine in his arms. Lank raven hair hung in front of his grey eyes. They weren’t just grey though. They were dark blue and dark green mixed together, like deep ocean water.

He was the most beautiful person Simon had ever seen.

———————————————-

Chapter 2 will be posted next Monday! Hope you enjoyed this :)

#carry on #snowbaz #baz pitch #simon snow #little mermaid #human baz #little mermaid au

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turningpagebooks · 7 years ago

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AUTHOR Q&A AND EXCERPT: L. Penelope, Author of “Song of Blood & Stone”

I was lucky enough to interview the lovely L. Penelope, author of the recently released Song of Blood & Stone.

Song of Blood & Stone is a thrilling, epic fantasy about an outcast drawn into a war between two powerful rulers. With the world building of Brandon Sanderson, the romance of Ilona Andrews, the epic quest of Lord of the Rings, and the doomed star-crossed love of Romeo & Juliet, the first instalment in the Earthsinger series was published on May 1st, 2018.

Orphaned and alone, Jasminda lives in a land where cold whispers of invasion and war linger on the wind. Jasminda herself is an outcast in her homeland of Elsira, where her gift of Earthsong is feared. When ruthless soldiers seek refuge in her isolated cabin, they bring with them a captive--an injured spy who threatens to steal her heart.

Jack's mission behind enemy lines to prove that the Mantle between Elsira and Lagamiri is about to fall nearly cost him his life, but he is saved by the healing Song of a mysterious young woman. Now he must do whatever it takes to save Elsira and it's people from the True Father and he needs Jasminda's Earthsong to do it. They escape their ruthless captors and together they embark on a perilous journey to save Elsira and to uncover the secrets of The Queen Who Sleeps.

Thrust into a hostile society, Jasminda and Jack must rely on one another even as secrets jeopardize their bond. As an ancient evil gains power, Jasminda races to unlock a mystery that promises salvation. The fates of two nations hang in the balance as Jasminda and Jack must choose between love and duty to fulfill their destinies and end the war.

------------------------------------------ INTERVIEW --------------------------------------

What inspired you to write this series? What came first: the characters or the world? What was your inspiration for the magic of Earthsong? Were you inspired by other books?

When I first wrote this book, up until the time I gave it to my first editor, I thought it was going to be a novella. It was always meant to be a fairytale-esque story of a girl’s journey from the margins of society straight to its upper echelons. The characters Jack and Jasminda were there before the world was ever clear in my mind. The first scene I wrote was the one where they meet in front of her cabin. I knew they were from different, warring countries and they came from very different sorts of lives, but that was all. Through the magic of revision (lots and lots of revision) I discovered the journey that the characters would go on and all the conflicts they would face.

I love fantasy and there were so many inspiring series that I soaked in prior to writing the book, from Graceling by Kristin Cashore to Seraphina by Rachel Hartman. But I think this book owes its biggest inspiration to the Lumatere Chronicles by Melina Marchetta. Her fantasy world felt well realized and complex, filled with incredibly detailed characters, groups, nations, and settings. But I also wanted to write a kinder, gentler fantasy novel that wouldn’t double as a doorstopper. And mix in a really strong romance like some of my favorites Nalini Singh or Kresley Cole.

What were your favorite scenes to write for Song Of Blood & Stone? What was the hardest scene to write? Is there a scene or moment that really sticks with you?

Though Usher, Jack’s valet, spends relatively little time on the page, I loved writing the scenes with him and Jack. When two characters have known each other for a long time, it can be really fun to play with how to show their relationship. Usher has known Jack his entire life and so the way they interact is unique. I also loved writing the visions that Jasminda gets from the stone. They were in a different voice, from a totally different perspective and the peeked in on a vibrant, fully formed world that’s different to the one of the main story. Hardest to write were the ones where Jasminda is confronted with the racism and bias of Elsirans. The scene that sticks with me is when Jack and Jasminda are in the army base and he sleeps on the ground beside her, holding her hand. I find it really sweet and romantic.

What advice would you give aspiring authors, especially authors or colour, striving to have their stories and truths shared?

I would tell aspiring authors to really investigate your goals and be frank with yourself about why you want to do this. It’s a difficult path emotionally, creatively, and professionally and what will get you through the low points is being very clear about your “why”. It can also be incredibly rewarding, but knowing what you’re getting yourself into is key.

Writing and publishing are two different disciplines. Your “why” will inform whether you pursue traditional publishing or seek to self-publish. It will keep you going through rejections, delays, bad reviews, disappointment, and the imposter syndrome that we all go through.

The other very important thing is to have a community to fall back on. Whether that’s a chapter of a professional organization like RWA, SFWA, SCWBI, and others, or a Facebook group, critique group, or writer’s circle, having others to commiserate and celebrate with you makes the journey much easier.

You've said before you're a firm believer in fast drafting and then fleshing out the story later. What other writing tips to do have?

I’m a plotter who also discovery writes between plot points, so flexibility is key. I tend to use different plotting systems on different projects. Sometimes the Hero’s Journey will work perfectly, for other books, the “Save the Cat” method is better. It’s important to not be rigid with your idea of what kind of writer you are and understand that each book will require something different from you. Once you accept that, you can roll with the punches better instead of getting bogged down trying to make everything fit into the same method each time. It’s kind of scary, but kind of freeing to know that when you sit down to write, the rules may not be the same as the last time you did it.

And if you’re still working on getting through your first book, flexibility is still important. Consider all feedback seriously before discarding it. You need critique partners, but you don’t need to listen to them all the time. However, don’t discount them out of hand without serious consideration first.

Which character in Song Of Blood & Stone do you most relate to? How do you select names of your characters?

I think Jasminda represents various aspects of myself both as I am and as I’d like to be. She’s definitely bolder than I am, but her struggle to feel a part of things is one that I understand.

As for naming my characters, for each nation, I asked questions about how the names should generally work. Things like: which prefixes and suffixes are common? Which letters and sounds are prevalent? Which letters or sounds either don’t exist or are more rare? So the Elsirans have a lot of double vowels in their names. Qs, Vs, and Zs are prominent, but there are no hard Cs.

Lagrimari names generally don’t use Js. I set up which suffixes were for men and women and the types of sounds the names would have. There are only 9 last names in Lagrimar, corresponding with the Houses. Jasminda as a name is an exception. Her parents didn’t follow the naming conventions of either country for her or her brothers. Because their interracial relationship was unique, they wanted their children’s names to be distinctive as well.

A lot of books feature devastating endings, but your story gives readers a happy ending and shows the power of love. Why do you find this so important to portray in your book?

I started reading romance pretty voraciously as an adult, and one thing I love about the genre is the happy endings. Good stories make you feel something. I don’t want people feeling terrible at the end of my books. Life can be depressing enough, so when I read, I want to finish a little more “up” than where I started. That’s what I put in my writing. There might be a difficult journey, but at the end of the day, leaving people feeling good is important to me.

What do you most hope that readers will take away from Song Of Blood & Stone?

I really just hope readers enjoy the story and the characters. Jasminda is a heroine that I had been longing to see, so I hope people get as much joy and heartache from her story as I did when I wrote it.

Can you tell us more about the next books in the series? What are you working on now?

Book 2, Whispers Of Shadow & Flame, follows a parallel timeline to Song. It’s about Darvyn, a character we hear about in Song who was the Earthsinger responsible for disguising Jack. The disguise’s failure gets Jack captured and he wonders what happened to Darvyn. So in Whispers, we find out. But it also pushes the story forward, showing what’s going on in Lagrimar in the days before the [climax of Song], and setting up the next challenge that Jack, Jasminda, and Darvyn will face.

Book 3, Cry OF METAL & BONE picks up the story of how Elsira and Lagrimar deal with the [final events of Song] and the new threat facing the nations.

I’m also working on a brand-new series with dragons.

What are your favorite books you would recommend to readers?

Among my favorites of all time are Wild Seed by Octavia Butler, The Sea of Tranquility by Katja Millay, Finnikin of the Rock by Melina Marchetta, Maybe Someday by Colleen Hoover, Daughter of Smoke & Bone by Laini Taylor and Sheltered by Charlotte Stein. I could go on and on, but I’ll leave it there.

Thanks to L.Penelope for this fun Q&A! Song of Blood & Stone is out on May 1st!

---------------------------------- ABOUT THE AUTHOR ------------------------------

Leslye Penelope has been writing since she could hold a pen and loves getting lost in the worlds in her head. She is an award-winning author of new adult, fantasy, and paranormal romance. She lives in Maryland with her husband and their furry dependents: an eighty-pound lap dog and an aspiring feral cat.

---------------------------------------------- EXCERPT ------------------------------------------

Jack had found himself in a great many hopeless situations in his life, but this one was the grand champion—a twentytwoyear rec ord for dire occurrences. He only hoped this wouldn’t be the last occurrence and sent up yet another prayer that he might live to see his twentythird year.

The temperature had dropped precipitously. His spine was as saulted by the rocky ground on which he lay, but really that was the least of his discomforts.

His vision had begun to swim about an hour ago, and so at first he thought the girl looming above him was a mirage. She peered down at his hiding spot behind a cluster of coarse shrubbery, her head cocked at an angle. Jack went to stand, years of breeding kick ing in, his muscle memory offended at the idea of not standing in the presence of a lady, but apparently his muscles had forgotten the bullet currently lodged within them. And the girl was Lagrimari— not strictly a lady, but a woman nonetheless—and a beautiful one, he noticed as he squinted into the dying light. Wild, midnight curls floated carelessly around her head, and piercing dark eyes regarded him. Her dress was drab and tattered, but her smooth skin was a confectioner’s delight. His stomach growled. When was the last time he’d eaten?

Her presence meant he was still on the Lagrimari side of the mountain range bordering the two lands and had yet to cross the other, more powerful barrier keeping him from his home of Elsira: the Mantle.

The girl frowned down at him, taking in his bedraggled appear ance. From his position lying on the ground, he tried his best to smooth his ripped uniform, the green fatigues of the Lagrimari army. Her confusion was apparent. Jack was obviously Elsiran; aside from his skin tone, the ginger hair and golden honeycolored eyes were a dead giveaway. And yet he wore the uniform of his enemy.

“Please don’t be scared,” he said in Lagrimari. Her brows rose toward her hairline as she scanned his supine and bloodied body. Well, that was rather a ridiculous thing to say. “I only meant that I mean you no harm. I . . .” He struggled with how to explain him self.

There were two possibilities. She could be a nationalist who would turn him in to the squad of soldiers currently combing the mountain for him, perhaps to gain favor with the government, or she could be like so many Lagrimari citizens, beaten down by the war with no real loyalty to their dictator or his thugs. If she was the former, he was already dead, so he took a chance with the truth.

“You see, I was undercover, spying from within the Lagrimari army. But now there are men looking for me, they’re not far, but . . .” He paused to take a breath; the efort of speaking was draining. He suspected he had several cracked or broken ribs in addition to the gunshot wound. His vision swirled again, and the girl turned into two. Two beautiful girls. If these were his last moments before traveling to the World After, then at least he had something pleas ant to look at.

He blinked rapidly and took another strained breath. His mis sion was not complete; he could not die yet. “Can you help me? Please. I’ve got to get back to Elsira.”

She stole an anxious glance skyward before kneeling next to him. Her cool hand moved to his forehead. The simple touch was soothing, and a wave of tension rolled of him.

“You must be delirious.” Her voice was rich, deeper than he’d expected. It eased the harsh consonants of the Lagrimari language, for the first time making it sound like something he could imagine being pleasant to listen to. She worked at the remaining buttons of his shirt, pulling the fabric apart to reveal his ruined chest. Her expression was appraising as she viewed the damage, then sat back on her haunches, pensive.

“It probably looks worse than it is,” he said. “I doubt that.”

Jack’s chuckle sounded deranged to his own ears, so it was no surprise that the girl looked at him askance. He winced—laughing was a bad idea at this point—and struggled for breath again. “The soldiers . . . they’re after me. I have to get back through the Mantle.”

“Shh,” she said, peering closely at him. “Hush all that foolish ness; you’re not in your right mind. Though I’ll admit, you speak Lagrimari surprisingly well. I’m not sure what happened to you, but you should save your strength.”

She closed her eyes, and suddenly his whole body grew warmer, lighter. The odd sensation of Earthsong pulsated through him. He had only experienced it once before, and it hadn’t been quite like this. The touch of her magic stroked him intimately, like a brush of fingers across his skin. The soft vibration cascaded over his entire body, leaving him feeling weightless.

He gasped, pulling in a breath, and it was very nearly an easy thing to accomplish. Tears pricked his eyes. “Sovereign bless you.”

Her expression was grave as she dug around in her bag. “It’s just a patch. You must have ticked someone of real good. It’d take quite a while to fix you up properly, and the storm’s coming. You need to find shelter.”

She retrieved a jar filled with a sweetsmelling substance and began spreading it over his wounds. The Earthsong had turned down the volume of his pain, and the cream soothed him even more.

“What is that?”

“Just a balm. Helps with burns, cuts.” Her hand paused for a moment. “Never gunshot wounds, but it’s worth a try.”

He laid his head back on the ground, closing his eyes to savor the ability to breathe deeply again. “A quick rest and I’ll be back on my way. Need to keep moving, though. Need to get back.”

“Back through the Mantle?” Her tone vibrated with skepticism. “And away from the Lagrimari soldiers chasing you?”

“Yes.” Her palm met his forehead again. She thought he was delusional. He wished he was. Wished the last few weeks had been nothing but the imaginings of an impaired mind.

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halothenthehorns · 4 years ago

Text

THE DEMENTOR

This is more of replying to clh comments, so if you want to skip by this point I don't blame you, but here you go.

I'm inclined to believe that because JK said so herself, she's not very good at math and her statement of saying Charlie's age in relevance to Percy's is loosely interpreted, so I worked it this way because of the inconsistencies in the book saying how and when and what exactly he did there. I'm not inclined to go back and change it, because I like putting in those random comments in trying to explain the book's mistakes.

I'm sorry you didn't like the parts I put in about Remus, but when you get to this book you'll see that I've got a very big thing about trying to explain a lot of things that aren't even touched on about his character, so I threw in that part about wanting him to be Harry's godfather but the government wouldn't allow it to give him some extra backstory the books never do. I don't think it's too farfetched that the prejudices against werewolf's would try and stop him from having anything to do with kids, and allowing one to be any kind of part of a kids life would be an easy thing to pass in the laws. I do recognize and admit Godfather doesn't equal guardianship, like I made it sound, but it doesn't change my point either that Remus was very forcibly tried to keep out of Harry's life by the Ministry. Yes I know James and Sirius are just that little bit closer and that's why he got picked in the end, but that was just my headcanon and I'm sorry you disagreed.

Despite how that might have read, I love clh and everyone's continued comments and critiquing of these little things I add, please feel free to open any kind of discussion and questions you like!

HPHPHP

Sirius eyed his chapter with more weariness than almost any other before. He wasn't sure how much longer he could stand being talked about like this before he really did have some kind of breakdown, and avoiding the issue just didn't seem possible at this point. Still, it's not like he could avoid it, he'd rather break his arm then try to cut off the story here. He still wanted to know more than anything about Harry's life. So with a heavy heart he went to the correct chapter and read.

Harry woke the next morning and packed quickly, then went to find Ron who was grumbling the sooner they hit the road the better, he was sick of being around Percy, who was now blaming Ron on getting water on a picture of Penelope Clearwater, his girlfriend,

"Wow, Percy really needs to figure out which brother he's talking to," James shook his head in disbelief, "I still can't see Ron doing something like that."

Harry began to explain what he'd heard last night, but then Fred and George popped in to praise Ron for further annoying Percy.

"So, the twins didn't do that?" Lily asked in confusion.

"So who did?" Remus agreed, more than puzzled.

"Must have been Ginny," James said with a frown, "there's no one left."

"Well if she takes after those twins, I'll be more than happy to hear it," Sirius agreed.

They headed down to breakfast and Ron asked what Harry was about to say, but Harry said he'd explain later, now surrounded by Weasley's.

Sirius grimaced, selfishly hoping that later never really came up as he didn't want to hear Harry trying to tell his friends there was a crazy person after him any more than he enjoyed hearing Molly and Arthur talk about it.

Everything was by the doors waiting for the cars, all the animals caged up, including Crookshanks who was unpleased to find himself in a makeshift basket.

"I'm sure that cat loved this," Lily giggled.

Hermione was promising to let him out when they got onboard, but Ron protested she couldn't, because Scabbers was going to be in there as well.

"This could be rather complicated," James agreed with a frown, while Harry sighed as he realized his friends had something new to bicker about, as if they needed any more fuel. He had a very bad feeling this one in particular lasted for some time.

The cars arrived and Harry, Ron, and Hermione all got in one, but before Harry could try to explain again, Percy climbed in as well, to Ron's protest.

"I agree, it would have made sense for one of the parents to go with the group," Remus shrugged.

"Guess Percy counts as adult enough," James offered.

They reached the station with nearly half an hour to go,

"A new record for the Weasleys it seems," Lily chuckled.

then the cars drove away, for some odd reason able to jump to the front of the line at the next light.

"Makes me kind of want to get a car," James grinned, "they seem useful, and I'd like to learn about that spell."

Lily furrowed her brow, not one hundred percent sure they really needed another motorized vehicle around here since she still was quite irked at Sirius' bike, and that car had been a disaster no matter the good end results. She didn't argue the point though, not just now anyways.

Mr. Weasley kept close to the trio as they went inside, telling Harry the two of them should go onto the platform first.

'He's not exactly being subtle' Sirius frowned, but didn't say that out loud, wondering if he was just being paranoid.

"I've never asked," Harry said, trying to take away Sirius' perturbed face, he might not have said anything out loud but they could all see it anyways. "How does the platform work?"

"What do you mean?" James asked, looking for specifics.

"How come Muggle's don't just wander into it, or notice us going in?"

"Oh," Lily said in understanding, "there's a muggle repelling charm on it, so they instinctively know not to go in or around the area."

"What about Muggle-borns parents?" Harry pressed.

"They can go in so long as they're lead by a wizard," Lily further explained.

Harry nodded, happy that this little detail had been put to rest. He also realized it must be the same for the Leaky Cauldron. His attempt had worked, Sirius was slightly distracted and looked just a little bit better again as he continued.

Once everyone was joined on the platform, Percy spotted his girlfriend, and puffed out his chest so that she couldn't miss his badge. Harry caught Ginny's eye, and the two had to turn away to stop themselves from laughing.

Harry gave a very happy smile of remembrance, thinking that was probably the first time Ginny had ever met his eyes and turned away for some other reason then blushing. That had been her first instance of finally showing she had a personality other than shy.

"Props to that girl for putting up with him," Sirius rolled his eyes.

"Be nice," Lily chided, she wasn't the biggest fan of Percy's attitude either, but they were seeing him from Harry's point of view. She was sure he must have a kinder side, at least around his girlfriend. She also had to stop herself from pointing out at least Sirius and James were just as pompous about certain things.

They all loaded their stuff into a compartment then exited to say their goodbyes to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, the mother going around and giving all of her children hugs and kisses, then Hermione, then surprisingly Harry.

"Aw," Lily smiled while the boys rolled their eyes at this mother act in front of school students, all the boys but Harry. He was blinking in surprised shock and pleasure, since no one had ever done that for him before.

He went red in the face from embarrassment, but was quite flattered when she gave him an extra hug.

"Think you were right before James," Remus grinned, "the Weasleys might just up and adopt Harry if he asks."

"I can only hope," James laughed, which was tinged with sadness all the same that this had to be a happy thing at all.

Molly began to hand out sandwiches to her sons, turning to Ron and giving him his while promising it wasn't corned beef this time,

"Wow, she remembered," Sirius grinned.

"Guess someone must have said something," Harry smirked.

"Where'd she make them at?" Lily asked. "Did Tom let her use the kitchen?"

"I guess," James shrugged, not really thinking too much about it.

Harry was pulled away though, by Mr. Weasley asking for a quick second.

"Now what's this?" Lily said in surprise.

"You think Arthur is going to tell?" James said curiously.

Sirius huffed and grumbled something under his breath, but none of them could think of anything to say to him that they hadn't already.

Mr. Weasley led Harry away from the group, but before he could get started, Harry admitted he already knew what he was going to say.

"Wow, not many people will admit too eavesdropping, " Remus said in a laugh.

"I did it so he technically still kept his promise to the Minister that Mr. Weasley didn't tell me," Harry shrugged.

Harry admitted to having overheard the conversation last night, and Arthur was now frowning as he said that's not how he'd liked to have explained this.

"How exactly was he planning to tell you 'hey some crazy guy is coming to kill you'?" Sirius demanded in a snarky tone of voice.

Harry gave him an anxious look, but he couldn't really answer that since he'd never given Mr. Weasley the chance to explain.

Harry assured him it was fine, because know he knew, but Mr. Weasley hadn't broken his promise to Fudge. Arthur tried to ask if Harry was terrified, but Harry shrugged, admitting he wasn't.

Sirius looked up and around in surprise as he said, "okay, I know why you mean it now, but why did you then?"

Harry gave an easy shrug as he admitted, "sorry Sirius, but you didn't exactly scare me more than Voldemort did."

They all grimaced slightly at that, still rather happy Harry wasn't actually afraid for his life since it just wasn't possible Sirius could ever hurt him, but hating the idea all the same that there really was someone out there who did want Harry dead.

When Mr. Weasley didn't look like he believed that, Harry said he was being serious,

Sirius released a surprised snort of laughter and made to say something, but stopped quickly when James smacked him across the back of the head before he got a chance. Giving him a haughty look, he continued anyways this time, "not as serious as I could!"

"Where is your off button!" Remus demanded, while Sirius gave them all satisfied smirks and continued.

how could Sirius Black be worse than Voldemort? Mr. Weasley flinched like all wizards did upon hearing that name, but then pressed on trying to make Harry promise him something, but Harry cut him off by grumbling that he was supposed to stay inside this year. Mr. Weasley said that wasn't what he meant, looking more serious,

"Ouch, dang it guys," Sirius grumbled, he'd been smacked even before he'd finished the word that time.

"How many times can you make the same joke and still think it's funny?" Remus demanded.

"As often as I want," he shot right back, a superior smirk now in place. This was such a turn around to his depressed mood of late that no one really felt that mad at him anymore.

then Harry had ever seen him as he told Harry not to go looking for Black. Harry was stunned, and asked why he would even do that?

That had them all stumped for a moment, until James snapped his fingers and said, "you think Arthur thinks you know everything? That you might know Sirius was a friend of mine, and you would go looking for him because of that?"

"But I didn't now then," Harry pointed out, "and even if I had, that still wouldn't encourage me to go find him, when I thought he wanted me dead." He finished, giving an apologetic look to Sirius for saying that.

They all shrugged then, not really having any better reason why Arthur would think this.

The train gave a warning whistle then, signaling it was about to take off, but Mr. Weasley was still talking, telling Harry to promise him that no matter what he heard but Harry cut him off again by demanding to know why he'd go looking for someone who wanted to kill him?

Sirius grimaced all over again, hearing Harry say that twice in a row made him want to vomit, cry, and scream all over again, no matter how Harry felt now, him thinking this to be true at any point in time tore him to little pieces. He wouldn't let anyone try and console him this time though, blasting on.

The train really was rolling now, and Harry had to bolt inside as it began picking up speed, then before he knew it the train was pulling from the station and the platform was out of sight.

"I notice you didn't actually promise him," Lily said in mild amusement.

Harry shrugged and said, "still don't understand why he wanted me to at all."

Ron, Hermione, and Ginny were all waiting for him, and when Harry said he needed to talk to his friends, Ron told his sister to get lost.

"Oh that was nice," Lily frowned.

"I don't blame him," Sirius rolled his eyes at her. "Who wants their sibling following them around."

Ginny snapped that was nice before storming off.

"So now you've mimicked Ginny as well," James grinned over at his wife, "are you going to mimic everyone by the end?"

Lily decided to ignore them in hopes they would stop this annoying gag.

The three of them went moving down the compartments, looking for an empty one,

"I thought you already stored your stuff away in another one?" James reminded.

Harry gave a disgruntled look as he said, "yeah, but some first years had come in and taken it, so we'd grabbed our stuff and decided to move rather than force them out."

but every one they came across already had people in them except for one, which had a man sleeping against the far window.

Harry suddenly went very pale and rocketed to his feet, shaking his head from side to side furiously. Lily reacted just as fast, clutching at his arm and demanding he calm down, or he was going to hurt himself. He relaxed, but didn't glance over at his mom at all, but instead focused on Remus like he never had before. His face scrunched up, and it was all too easy to picture the man before him with a little extra gray hair, sleeping in that compartment. So he had been right, he did know him!

The boys got up wearily as well, Harry reacting like this to something couldn't be good, and the way he was eyeing Remus set said man's intestines churning into themselves. Lily still had her hand on him, looking from him to Remus and back before finally demanding, "Harry, what's wrong?"

"I-" he began, before swallowing hard and still not answering, now rocking backwards on his heels in unease. There was no doubt in his mind, the man he suddenly remembered being in the compartment was standing in front of him, older yes but not nearly as dissimilar to Sirius' later unhealthy looks. He should say something now, because the bomb of a reaction to Sirius being alive was terrible for his family, so he should get it out of the way now, but the words wouldn't come out, jammed down his throat as he kept looking wistfully at Remus.

Sirius, still on his feet and wondering what on earth could be going through Harry right now, read to hopefully ease some of the stress.

They found this odd, since no adult had ever been seen except for the woman who pushed the food trolley around.

James and Lily exchanged uneasy looks, James starting to walk over to the pair in case Harry was going to react to something soon. Harry had been reduced to rubbing furiously at his temple, trying to get a word in, but of course he couldn't say anything even though he knew with every fiber of his being he was right. Remus stayed rooted to the spot, mind going a mile a minute as he prayed he was misunderstanding why Harry was looking at him like that.

They decided to go for it though, entering the compartment to find he'd stored away a battered suitcase above him. He wasn't that old, but between the patched and shabby robes, and the pale complexion with gray streaked brown hair he looked like he'd been through the run. Ron asked who he might be, and Hermione whispered Professor R. J. Lupin.

The book clattered to the floor and Sirius decked Remus so hard he fell with it.

Sirius was standing over him, shaking and pulling back as if fixing to swing again. James cursed wildly and flew towards him, tackling Sirius and all but dragging him away step by step while Remus stayed on the ground, hand pressed to his cheek in shock. Where to begin as his mind stayed on utter lockdown, unable to process too many things at once.

He kept hearing Sirius shouting, but the words didn't seem to be getting through, while Lily and Harry heard quite clearly as they moved to Remus side, eyeing Sirius like he truly had gone mad.

"-let me go! I'm going to kill him, that idiotic, manic depressive, self-loathing-" he tore into several other more colorful words for a few moments, while Lily got to her feet again and stood protectively in front of the pair, green eyes flashing as Sirius finally circled out and actually used proper words again, James still keeping such a tight hold on him it was a miracle he was still on his feet. "What the bloody hell is the matter with you, why weren't you there, huh? Where were you when all this mess was happening to Harry, oh I know, not there for him because you're more afraid of yourself then-"

"Sirius, you know damn well why Remus wouldn't be allowed near Harry while he was living with his Muggle relatives." Lily finally cut in, advancing a step towards him and jabbing him in the chest for emphasis.

He was still puffed up and looked ready to breathe fire at a moment's notice, but the shouting momentarily stopped as Lily's full words registered. There was a tick going on in one of his jaw muscles, but James took this small moment to continue dragging Sirius backwards, all the way into the kitchen and out of sight. Then Lily turned back to Harry still trying to coax Remus into saying something, while the man looked like he'd never speak again.

He'd landed on his arm, and had automatically sat up on it with his other hand pressed to the spot Sirius had slugged him, looking dazed and frozen. He'd known for a while Sirius was going to get over his shock and fear at what was going to happen to him and channel it into something more violent or at least something that involved a lot of his energy. He had not expected that to all be channeled at him, though in that moment he knew he deserved it and more; because Sirius was right. No matter the legal ramifications of his condition, why wasn't he there for Harry? He loved that boy like he would his own, and knew without a shadow of a doubt that if he had an inkling of what was going on while he was living with the Dursleys he wouldn't have joined Sirius in Azkaban, he'd probably be dead on sight for what he owed them.

His whole time he'd been at school, he always wondered if this happy feeling, the miracle he had in his friends, would end sooner or later. Hearing about what happened to his family now was physically tearing him apart inside, and he'd been wishing this whole time he had survived just so that he knew someone would still be out there looking after Harry. Now he'd found out he had survived, and shirked his duty, for what?

There was a light tapping on his forehead, and he finally blinked the static from his brain clouding him from truly registering his surroundings, to find Lily and Harry both watching him with more than concern on their features. Harry had been the one tapping him and trying to get his attention, while having a conversation Remus quickly understood as Lily was clearly explaining to Harry "-I meant that there are laws in place stopping Remus from doing certain things because he's a werewolf, for example he couldn't legally adopt you, but he's also not allowed within a certain radius of Muggle dwellings, or he really could be killed."

"But why?" Harry persisted, his brow ruffling up just like his father's did whenever he didn't understand something.

"All sorts of things dear, prejudices for one, they think he's some dangerous animal all the time and such. It's also to ward off temptations, after all not all werewolves are like him, some would purposefully seek out Muggle neighborhoods, so the law is a general sense that they have a right to kill one before they can do the act."

In the background he could still hear Sirius and James arguing in the kitchen, where James stood in this he wasn't sure he wanted to know since he was still considering slinking out the front door. Then Lily and Harry seemed to notice he'd come back down to earth, and Lily was quick to try and convince him otherwise of those actions. He said nothing, couldn't think of anything to say, as the guilt continued to eat him alive from the inside the longer he realized what Harry had been through all because he wasn't there. Damned those laws, he should have been able to write to Harry at least, set up something with Dumbledore so he could check on him, anything then what Sirius had implied what happened, which seemed likely by this point.

He hadn't ended up in jail, or otherwise physically stopped, he was clearly still alive and...why was he on the Hogwarts express? He blurted this question out before he had time to think on it himself, finally relieving Harry and his mother of the pent up stress they were clearly feeling. Harry was quick to say exactly what Sirius had just read, and stating, "I did recognize you, Professor Lupin, you were my favorite teacher that year."

Something twitched inside of him, a little niggle that he never would have believed he'd truly feel. Whenever Sirius and James had jokingly called him that in the past, he'd brushed them off and snap at them to quit it because they all knew he'd never actually get that profession, what school could ever allow such a thing, except perhaps the very school he'd attended in his youth.

Now, here Harry was, calling him that very thing he would long for, in a completely serious tone of voice. No mocking, no jesting, he meant it with a respectful tone and a sincerity that spoke volumes of truth. This flashed through him so fast, he'd barely had time to register the happy warmth before James and Sirius came back out of the kitchen.

Sirius still looked rather peeved, which he had every right to according to Remus; since he knew full well his friend would feel wronged at himself being locked away and forcefully stopped when Remus himself hadn't exactly been tied down and prevented from their personal duty of looking after Harry. As Sirius marched towards him, he half considered apologizing to Sirius, knowing he'd trade places in less than a breath. Then he was stunned all over again as Sirius bent down and offered his hand to help him back up.

After hesitating a few more moments he took it, getting uneasily to his feet and then rocking back on his heels and pushing his hand through his hair, still at a loss for words. Sirius filled in the silence, while avoiding eye contact and saying, "I'm sorry I punched you, I know it's not really your fault and...what else was it?" He asked, trying to force a joking tone in his voice no one else felt as he turned back to James, who simply raised one brow at him and made a 'go on' gesture.

Sirius released a huffy breath and slightly turned back to him, still looking more above his head then anything and trying to continue, but Remus cut him off and instead said, "honestly, I was going to let you take another swing at me. I can't say what's been going on those past twelve years any more than you can, but I was wrong. What made me stay away, is inconsequential." He came very close to adding on, 'I won't let it happen now,' but stopped himself as he realized that, possibly whatever had happened the first time to set up these circumstances, he may not ever really be able to prevent.

Sirius hesitated, but nodded and seemed to take this as some sort of apology, because most of his hostility drained out of him and he went back over to pick up the book. James hesitated and followed him, making Remus hesitate and ponder if James really was feeling just like Sirius, and just couldn't think of anything to add on. Lily and Harry exchanged uneasy looks, neither of them used to any kind of fight between these three, but when Remus finally decided to go back over and sit next to Sirius, who gave no protest, the other two wandered back to their spot as well.

There was a very sticky silence for a long time, Sirius rummaging for his page being the only noise, and once he found it he began again with a bit more anger in his voice then was normal, but no one said anything. Remus gave a very dark mental laugh, thinking that at least this got Sirius to stop thinking about his problem. *

Ron asked how on earth she could know that, and Hermione gestured above his head where he'd stamped his name on his luggage.

Lily frowned over at these boys, personally annoyed and affronted for Remus at them. She had a very good idea why he hadn't been allowed to go see Harry, and if they didn't cool it with the attitude soon she would shove it in their faces why.

Ron asked what on earth he was teaching, and Hermione pointed out the only position was Defense Against the Dark Arts.

"Or Care of Magical Creatures, since we've already established there's an opening for that job as well," Lily offered, watching them all carefully. No one said anything for or against this idea, in fact she was a little more concerned Remus didn't seem stoked at the idea of this happening. He loved teaching people, had always had a special fondness for younger students at school and was well known for being the most approachable of the Marauders little gang. Secretive, a little odd yes, Lily hadn't even figured out that Remus was a werewolf until her and James were engaged. So she had not the slightest problem with this, and would gladly curse anyone who said otherwise.

None of them spoke it, but they were all thinking of the jinx placed on this position that had stopped them or anyone else having a teacher in this job for longer than a year. Ron did voice that he hoped the man was up for it, as he didn't look like much.

Remus gave a wane smile, this wasn't the first time he'd heard this. He'd always been rather small and underdeveloped because of his condition, and Ron wasn't the first person to think he didn't have a source to his wand. It had led to a few instances of teasing and one memorable instance where he had proved a crowded corridor just how stupid it was to underestimate him.

Then he finally turned his attention back to Harry and asked what he wanted to tell them.

Sirius frowned, not at all pleased to be right back on this subject.

James had to force down a strangled laugh as he realized all over again how odd this wasn't for Harry. Twice now, two of his old friends had made an appearance in his life, someone Harry should have rightfully known since he was born, and Harry had not a care in the world for either of them. Then James frowned further, suddenly wondering at the coincidence of this. What on earth were the odds Remus would wind up at Hogwarts, on the same year Sirius had made his grand escape? Was it possible Dumbledore had sought out Remus for this very reason, like he thought one friend would know the other's mind set well enough that Remus would perhaps try to stop Sirius. The longer he thought on this, it actually brought up a whole new round of questions, like where was Remus when that big blowdown happened that wound up Sirius in jail. Did Remus really think he'd done it? That was ridiculous, right? He had defended him now, so what could change in the coming year that would stop Remus fighting tooth and nail to keep Sirius out of there. To be fair, even if he had tried to give credence to Sirius, not many people would have believed him anyways.

Sirius hadn't let himself stay on the matter long, and James was in no mood to bring up any of this, so the reading continued.

Harry told of all he'd heard, and Hermione looked more then freaked out as she demanded that Sirius Black had broken out of prison just to kill Harry!

That finally released a pitiful chuckle from all of them, even at the new tension, they all still found this stupidly funny in the context Hermione meant.

Then she warned Harry he had to be extra careful this year, he couldn't go looking for trouble, and Harry pointed out that trouble usually found him.

"If that ain't the truth," Lily grumbled, having noticed that pattern a while ago.

Ron pointed out that Harry would have to be mental himself to go after the guy who wanted him dead.

'Oh thank you Ron,' Sirius mentally grumbled, though still kept that one to himself.

Harry realized they were taking this a lot worse than he had as Ron continued by reminding that no one knew how Black had got out of Azkaban, which was the most well protected prison there was, and Black had been under twenty-four hour surveillance watch.

Sirius shuddered all over again, he had known at the start of this chapter he couldn't exactly gloss over this, but after the bombshell of realizing Remus was still alive, it almost had less of an impact on him. Almost. His anger at Remus abandoning Harry almost made reading about what was to become of himself semi-bearable. It also brought up the fun question of what on earth happened to Peter. Since their original theory of them all being dead turned out to not be true, exactly how untrue was it? Was Peter somewhere out there as well? Sirius decided right then he would kill him if so. Remus had the vaguest of reasons, Sirius would give him that even if he was convinced there were ways to get around them that Remus should have thought up, but Peter didn't have any reason to abandon Harry.

Hermione was beginning to convince them that he would be caught again, when she heard a noise. They all stopped for a moment, looking around for the tiny whistling.

Sirius couldn't help but let his voice pique with interest, finally bleeding out that angry tone, making Lily finally relax.

Harry found the source of it in his trunk, as the Sneakoscope Ron had sent him was going off.

"What do you suppose?" James asked mildly, deciding for now to at least try to act like this was as normal as before, though the feeling was getting harder and harder to force as they went.

"Maybe Remus was faking being asleep?" Sirius smirked, attempting to do the same thing as James and not let himself grit out his friend's name.

"It wouldn't be the first time he's pulled that trick, he's fairly good at it," James agreed in forced light tones.

Remus didn't add his opinion on the matter, and Lily and Harry had no idea at all, which let Sirius go on.

Ron scoffed and apologized he'd gotten one so cheap, it may even be broken as it had been going off when he'd mailed it to Harry, then he did reconsider that he wasn't supposed to be using Errol in the first place which may have been untrustworthy of him.

"Like I said earlier, those things should be taken lightly, since they go off so easily," Remus said uneasily, which bothered Harry and Lily at once. He shouldn't be trying to stop himself from commenting any more than anyone else.

Harry went to put it back away, not wanting to wake up the stranger.

"Nah," James scoffed, a real smile finally lighting his features as he continued. "I've known him to sleep through the worst of rackets, and it also depends on just how close to a full moon that was."

Harry cocked his head to the side in remembrance, but he didn't exactly watch the lunar cycles very often, so he had no real idea.**

Ron suggested Harry could take it to Hogsmeade to get it checked over, then began listing all of the shops they could go to. Hermione tried to butt in by saying how historically important the sight was to, but Ron was talking right over her, now thinking on Honeydukes. Hermione asked what that was.

"Only the best shop ever," Sirius smirked, wanting to drool again at once as he reminisced about all of the candy in there.

Ron told how it was the best sweet shop in the world! Then he began listing every item you could find on the shelves, including sugar quills which you could suck on in class.

"Those don't really work," Lily rolled her eyes, "the teachers know a student doesn't suck on feathers."

Sirius wasn't listening, he was too busy smacking his lips in appreciation at Ron's very good descriptions and continuing eagerly.

Hermione was still trying to talk about some more scholarly things that had happened, like the Shrieking Shack being one of the most haunted places in their country,

"Is that still running?" James asked in amusement.

Harry wanted to ask what he meant but Sirius, much like Ron, was rather bored at Hermione trying to put in historical type things into a conversation about sweets, so he was still continuing.

The two were still talking over each other, when Hermione turned to Harry and mentioned how much good it would do them all to get out of the castle for a bit. Harry told them he was sure the two of them would enjoy it, and Ron was flabbergasted to hear that the Dursleys hadn't signed his form.

"Ask why," Lily murmured, "please ask why and kick up a real fuss on the matter."

Ron tried to say that surely McGonagall would let him go anyways,

"Dammit," Lily cursed rather loudly.

None of the boys had to ask why, but Sirius rounded on Harry and demanded, "didn't you ever tell Ron and Hermione, anything?"

"They must have noticed something," Remus agreed, finally pushing the last of the general unease from the room as the boys all found something to rally against again, "they did note back during your second year that you lost weight without being told. You never got anything for Christmas from them, even their cryptic little comments about how they 'hope the Muggles were treating you alright' back during the summer."

Harry hesitated a long time, choosing his words carefully as he said, "they, well we never exactly sat around and had it out like you all seem to want to, but I think they were suspicious. Sometimes, I'd just make these snarky little remarks or whatever, but no I don't think they ever really knew. I didn't tell them anyways."

"What about the cat flap then?" James huffed, more frustrated that Harry hadn't at least told his friends about that excuse for a home life.

"What about it?" Harry repeated curiously.

"Surely Ron, Fred, and George all saw it and wondered, or even questioned why they had to unlock you out of your room," Lily pointed out, clearly not appreciating Harry's attempts to be daft.

He just shrugged and admitted, "Ron asked me once, and I just told him we used to have a cat. I also told him all of the rooms were like that, cause they were paranoid about burglars. Didn't really feel like explaining it."

They all sat there gawking at him for a moment, but Harry kept himself tight lipped as ever and was looking pleadingly for Sirius to keep going. Why on earth was the boy still hiding something, even from his best friends? It was driving them all crazy, but they still weren't even sure how to ask him themselves, since whenever they tried he would just shrug and do exactly as he was doing now. They could hardly force him to tell them, it would do more harm than good. So Sirius, grumbling and unwillingly, decided to keep reading anyways.

but Harry knew better as McGonagall was one the strictest teachers, even if she was head of their house. Then Ron said they could get Fred and George to help, as they knew every secret passage in and out of the school.

"Now there's an idea," Sirius said, going bright eyed.

"Harry should know those anyways," James agreed, "it's practically his birthright."

Lily really couldn't come up with a reason to protest this, it's not like Harry was doing anything particularly bad, just wanting to go out and spend time with his friends in a village. The more she thought about it, the more she'd rather endorse the idea, it really would be good for her son to get out more on undangerous missions like visiting the village.

Hermione began to tell Ron off for that suggestion, saying that Harry should be staying inside school with Black running around.

"So what?" Sirius rolled his eyes. "Can't really do too much to Harry in such a public place as Hogsmeade can I?"

"Sirius, I hate to remind you, but you do know what you were put in there for in the first place," Lily asked with a frown.

Sirius opened, then closed his mouth, before nodding and deciding to skip the argument that he really wasn't that stupid, it was a moot point in this future.

Ron tried to argue the point, saying no one would be stupid enough to do something to Harry with them around,

"He's got a point there," James said with a weak grin. "Sorry Padfoot, I really can't see you being able to do anything with Ron and Hermione there as well."

Sirius nodded in agreement, continuing with only the hint of a joke, "I can see them taking me down easy, I'm definitely no match for these three."

Harry smirked, but was honestly unable to decide just how much they were kidding.

but Hermione told him he was being an idiot, that he'd been put away for murdering a street full of people with witnesses abound.

"Thanks, cause I wasn't reminded of that enough already," Sirius huffed under his breath.

As she was doing that, she was getting to her feet and working the slip loose to let her cat out. Ron snapped at her not to, but to late, Crookshanks pounced onto the seat and stretched before going over to Ron and sitting quite close to him, eyeing the pocket Scabbers was in.

"Knew those two pets were going to be all kinds of fun," Remus murmured lightly.

Ron snapped at the cat to get while pushing it away, and Hermione told him don't.

"Don't what?" James frowned, rather on Ron's side for this particular argument. "Don't stop the cat from sitting on him? Don't yell at the cat for eyeballing his pet? Personally, I think Hermione needs to get a grip here."

Everyone else in the room nodded in complete agreement.

Ron was about to snap back when Lupin began to move.

They all brightened, but for different reasons. Lily, James, and Sirius were all dying for Remus to really wake up and get some explaining going on. Maybe he even knew more about Sirius' case that he would bring up, aside from his general explanation of where he'd been.

Harry simply wanted to replenish memories of him, already in these few days he had a high respect for Remus, now he knew he'd get to talk to him for at least a year.

Remus, while still personally thinking he'd never give a good enough reason for his actions to be okay, was simply hoping he and Harry could have a normal conversation about anything, he could only imagine how his life had been without both James and Sirius around. They still had no idea where Peter was, so if he'd truly been on his own for twelve years, the very idea he'd get to interact with Harry would brighten his day.

They all went silent as they watched him, but he only rolled his head and let his mouth hang open slightly as he continued sleeping.

"Okay," James and Sirius said together, "now I know he's faking it." The pair sounded so disgruntled about the fact, no one asked for details.

The weather outside began turning stormy as the train rattled on, and they found more pleasant things to discuss as the lunch trolley came around. Ron asked if they should wake their new teacher,

"Please say yes," Lily sighed, wanting to stop this delay to what she felt would be the most important conversation of this year to Harry.

pointing out he looked like he could use something to eat.

'Ge thanks' Remus mentally rolled his eyes, though he said nothing out loud since he knew quite well how he looked to others, it was one of the things that made him so obviously what he was.

Hermione went over to him,

This time they couldn't help but lean forward eagerly, Remus couldn't possibly ignore this.

and gently spoke his name, but he didn't even twitch.

James and Sirius muttered something foul under their breath, knowing quite well that wasn't exactly enough to wake him up normally, but having a fairly good idea he was faking it and knowing he was just stalling now. Remus snored like crazy when he was asleep, and hardly so much as twitched which had been the giveaway from before, his mouth wouldn't have flopped open like that unless he was just going to start snoring louder. Yet Moony had faked sleep a few times in their youth to listen in on them sometimes, so they knew he could do it well enough to fool most people. James and Sirius weren't most people. Even only hearing a description of him, they knew they were right.

The kind faced woman told them not to worry about it while handing over Harry's food, telling them that if he woke up later and was hungry he could come up to the front and get her.

"Probably the only time I've ever disliked that woman," Sirius scowled over at Remus as he said that, no one needed to ask why as Remus sunk into the couch cushions a little more, rather upset himself.

Ron wondered if the man really was sleeping,

James rolled his eyes, dearly wanting to point out to Ron what he had a good idea of, but resisted anyways for the sake of repeating himself.

then making the joke that he looked like he'd died.

Lily released a surprised snort of laughter, she remembered one time back during their first year where she had come into the common room and saw him passed out in an armchair and wondered the same thing.

Hermione reassured that his chest was moving.

"Well that's a relief," Sirius couldn't help but smirk, being able to picture that all too well.

Professor Lupin may not have been very good company,

"I think I should resent that," Remus remarked, smiling lightly over at Harry.

Harry was quick to return it, saying, "well, no person asleep is actually good company, so don't take it too personally."

James and Sirius couldn't help but laugh at that little exchange, it did help to relieve their mood a bit.

but he did have his uses as the day wore on and they were visited by far less pleasant people, Draco Malfoy, who as always was accompanied by Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle.

"Oh joy, cause this was just going so well before," James grumbled.

He opened up the compartment door and gave his common sneer at seeing them, making a clever joke he was sure that he'd found Potty and the Weasel.

"His excuse for jokes have actually gotten more lame," Sirius said in disgust.

"I didn't think that was possible," James agreed with a grimace.

Then he turned on Ron and admitted his surprise at the Weasleys having won that gold over the summer, asking if Mrs. Weasley had a heart attack from the news.

"Wish yours did," Sirius grumbled, then winced as he realized what he'd just said. He'd made joking death threats before, but now at the all too horrible realization he might have carried through with one of them, he didn't seem to find them quite as funny.

Ron jacked up to his feet with such anger he crashed Crookshanks basket onto the floor, causing Professor Lupin to snort.

"Now that might have actually gotten his attention," Sirius nodded eagerly.

Malfoy took a step back from shock while asking who that was.

"Your worst nightmare," James grinned, suddenly lighting up in a whole new way. After finally accepting and adjusting to Remus being alive and getting his dream job, it truly sank in that this meant Remus was a teacher at Harry's school! Once Remus 'woke up' and realized who he was sitting seats away from, Harry would finally get what he'd deserved from the moment his parents had died. He was still ticked at whatever reasons had stopped this from happening before, but the point now was that Harry couldn't get into any trouble this year! Remus would never let anything like the last two years happen to Harry! This raised such a giddy mood in him, he actually laughed out loud, and was forced to explain this to the others.

Lily and Harry beamed, both clearly agreeing with James on the matter. Sirius sulked and didn't say anything, trying to decide if this made up for his previous absence. He'd withhold judgment for now.

Harry pointed out that he was a new teacher, while getting to his feet too in case he needed to hold back Ron.

"Or back him up," Sirius scoffed. "Honestly don't you ever let your friend have fun."

"Not this time," Harry remarked, "for the same reason I knew Malfoy should have backed off, no one's stupid enough to go at it when a teacher's around."

Remus shrugged, honestly agreeing with Harry, while James and Sirius grumbled they didn't really think Remus would have done anything against Harry and his friends.

Malfoy backed down then, recognizing defeat as he and his friends left. Ron sat back down with a huff, stating he was done taking it from Malfoy, and if he said one more thing about his family, then he swung at the air.

"Good on ya," James nodded in approval.

"I'm more than sick of his crap as well," Sirius sniffed.

Hermione told him to keep it down, gesturing at the still asleep Professor.

"Still can't decide if he's faking that or not," James smirked, knowing the answer really, but trying to get a rise out of him and giving Remus an obvious look who just shrugged. He had no idea.

Sirius played along and pondered it for a moment before saying, "I don't know, even he isn't so dense as to snooze right through a bunch of kids being that loud, but then why would he still be faking it?"

Lily honestly wondered if Remus wasn't perhaps faking it out of fear of meeting Harry. This was going to be the first time he'd seen him in years, it was going to be more than awkward for both of them, so she couldn't blame him one bit for stalling.

The weather outside only continued getting worse, smashing against the glass like mini drums, the wind howling as they roared on, but still Lupin slept on.

"That's not the problem," James shook his head, "it's the other noises I'm not buying."

Darkness had truly descended outside when Ron voiced they had to be getting close, and just as he spoke the words the train began to slow. Hermione though was frowning at her watch, pointing out they were still a bit early, and Ron asked why they would have stopped.

Sirius frowned in concern now, his voice matching that expression. The Hogwarts express was one of the most magical objects he'd ever heard of, it hardly just broke down for any reason, and if Hermione said it was too early for it to be stopping, then what on earth could be going on.

Harry suddenly got a very hair raising feeling, something truly awful was fixing to happen, so he blurted out purely to delay it, "you know, I've never thought about it before, but how come school always starts on a Monday that's always September 2nd? That isn't really possible is it?"

"Its part of the Magic of Hogwarts, it kind of exists in its own little time pocket," Lily explained at once. They all noticed how Harry seemed to be slowly losing color, fidgeting and starting to rub at his temple, which were all horrible signs that something very awful was about to happen.

Harry asked for a bit more, still wanting to delay as long as he could, "so you mean the day of the weeks there really aren't the same as they should be."

"Not really," James agreed, "I asked Lily about this a few times, and she said she read it in a few books about how the magic bordering the school, keeping out anything but allowing students and teachers and such, that sustains that magic seems to make a skewed timeline. Apparently it registers the same, for example back during your second year when you got caught in the flying car, it was the same night to you as the rest of the world, but it wouldn't have been a Sunday night to them but a Tuesday...did I get that right dear?" He finished, giving her a cheeky little grin at Lily's indulgent smile.

"Mostly yes, you left out some details I'll forgive, I'm just impressed you remembered that at all." She returned affectionately, and Harry smiled to himself as he realized it had worked, however temporarily, and he was feeling almost at peace again.

Pressing further he asked, "but if the train is what causes that, how come Ron and I made it in the car?"

"You were following the train," Remus reminded, "in a magical object, so the magic the train gives off creating this effect would have affected that Anglia as well. It also would have registered you as two students, so if two adults had tried that same trick, they never would have been able to follow the train in that same manner, they would have had to been invited onto the grounds by Dumbledore, or at least another teacher."

Harry nodded in disappointment as he realized he was out of questions, but he'd done what he set out to do, the others looked far calmer as Sirius continued.

Then the lights went out.

"Sirius, relax," Harry tried to sooth, all the while his tone said the exact opposite was appropriate. His memory was very forcibly trying to show him, or warn him, of some very bad impending things.

Sirius did hesitate for a moment longer to give Harry a reassuring smile, giving them all a brief reminder that Harry was clearly okay with whatever was about to happen physically anyways, his attitude was still scaring them almost as much as the book itself. Now as tense and jumpy as a cat Sirius read on.

Harry asked if the train could have broken, but none of them knew.

"Not possible," Lily whimpered loud enough for all of them to hear, now clutching Harry's hand tightly in hers again just for that small reassurance. Harry had a very strong impulse, which he followed, to squeeze right back; instantly confusing him. What on earth could this memory have to do with wanting his mother?

Lily took the comfort from her son for a moment before properly explaining, "the Hogwarts Express is magically enchanted almost as much as the school itself, nothing could just make it brake."

"Then what's doing this?" James demanded of nothing.

Outside through the mess of the storm, Ron swore he could see people getting onto the train.

"What?" James demanded, looking ready to reach forward and take the book away from Sirius.

He stopped him, swatting him away, while Remus was frowning and offered, "they must have been invited on, there is no other explanation."

"I've never heard of anything like this," Lily groaned, her hand tightening on Harry's all the more. "Who would be getting on? Why?"

"Guess Hogwarts wanted to take pity on some hitchhikers," Sirius grumbled without any humor at all, now rushing on for a real answer.

Outside they could hear people moving about the compartments, all looking for someone else to somehow find an answer, and Harry heard their own door slide open again as someone came shuffling in, and Harry recognized him as Neville.

"Can't blame that kid one bit," James nodded.

Neville made to sit down, and accidentally sat on the cat.

That random comment released a surprised snort of mirth from Sirius, but it didn't last long enough for him to delay.

Hermione made to get up and go ask the conductor what was going on, but she ran into someone else at the door, which turned out to be Ginny.

"Aw, that's so sweet she'd go looking for Ron," Lily murmured.

"I don't like all of these students moving around though," Remus frowned, bouncing around in agitation now, "it's still creepy that something's getting on, it would be safer if they stayed still in one place."

"You can't really blame them for seeking out friends and older siblings," Lily chided at once.

"No," he nodded, "just my personal advice."

They were all talking at once now, trying to decide what was going on, when an unfamiliar voice told them all to be quiet.

They all lit up at once, having almost forgotten Remus was there in their new panic. After all it could hardly be anyone else, since Harry hadn't recognized the voice. James and Sirius at once took back any bad feelings they'd had, now knowing without a shadow of a doubt their friend could handle whatever was fixing to happen that had Harry so on edge in this room.

Professor Lupin had awoken at last, and he quickly drew the attention of all the children as he lit a blue flame in his hand,

"Why would you use the Bluebell Fire instead of Lumos?" Harry randomly asked.

"I prefer that spell because quite a few things are afraid of fire, and it provides just as much light," he shrugged.

showing his pale face, but intelligent eyes as he scanned the room. He told them all to wait here while he made for the door, but before he got there it opened on its own. Harry felt cold at once, a deadly chill creeping over him as he made out a dark hooded figure, a hand creeping out of the folds, which was skeleton gray but gleaming as if wet or still decaying.

Sirius was near fainting by the end of this description. No one, not even Harry after Remus' thorough description of these monsters, needed to ask what had boarded the train, or even why.

"This is ridiculous!" Lily spat hotly, her green eyes shining with light as she continued, "those bloody things shouldn't be allowed anywhere near these children! Sirius can't even get on the train unless a staff member from Hogwarts invited him on, so what do they think they're doing?"

Harry quickly asked very loudly, watching Sirius with concern to make sure he really didn't faint, "what do you mean? Remus was on the train?" He also had a vague feeling another teacher was on the train with him at some point, but that was only the hint of something he knew better than to try remembering.

James, still torn between wanting to yell all over again in defense of his friend, or hug him, answered Harry, "like we said, the train's got all sorts of magic surrounding it allowing its entrance to Hogwarts, not just anyone can get on, only the students. Why do you think the parents never help load their kids' luggage. So unless," then he trailed off, going bright eyed himself and turning to Remus, now almost beaming as he finished, "unless someone did invite him on?"

Remus cocked his head to the side in wonder as he pondered this. He would like to think Sirius would have contacted him after he got out of prison, and it's not like Remus would think twice about helping him. Why wouldn't he help Sirius get to Hogwarts, since as of right now he honestly wouldn't put it past his friend to be trying to get into contact with Harry as well? Aloud he said, "I've no idea. If I did, then I would be regretting it then."

Sirius had to swallow very hard around a lump in his throat, but when no one offered anything more, he finally forced himself to read again.

Then the worst part came, when a sound reached Harry's ears that resembled a drowning man gasping for breath, a soul sucking noise looking for something deeper than oxygen.

"Sirius, do you want someone else to read?" Lily asked kindly.

James and Remus gave her grateful looks, they had been fixing to ask themselves, the only thing stopping them was his response, which he gave to their predictions.

He fired up and went from stuttering and shuddered disgust, he couldn't help but think of himself in the future being crammed inside with those things constantly whenever they were mentioned now, to outrage that Lily thought he needed to be pandered. He snapped, "don't patronize me Lily, I'm a big boy," and went on in more huffy tones.

Lily smiled grimly to herself, and Harry wasn't the only one who realized Lily had done this on purpose.

Harry couldn't see, couldn't hear anything but the terrible noise. He could feel his eyes rolling into his head, cold the only thing he knew as he began falling, the terrible sound getting louder every second,

Then they frowned all over again, Sirius switching back to fearful as he could think of several things that would be considered this poor kid's worst memories. Voldemort sticking out the back of some guys head for one, being poisoned by a giant snake, the worst part is he could go on! Then he glanced over and saw Harry leaning in to Lily, which he found rather odd. Harry had been pretty stoic through most of these misadventures, so what on earth could he be remembering that would make him want his mother's touch now?

Still half afraid, and now half curious, he read.

when something new began to come forward, from far away he could faintly hear someone screaming.

Harry was shuddering, extremely white and going almost clammy as he remembered that sound all too well. The sound of his mother's voice cut in, making him almost jump... it couldn't possibly have been her screaming was it? Her voice now wasn't nearly as high pitched as the memory...but were they the same? Then her words sank in, and he forced himself to remember where he was and what exactly was going on. Giving his head a firm shake he focused back in on this world as Lily said, "-you alright? Harry, please, what's the matter."

He pressed his hand to his forehead, pulling it away when he realized he was sweating, and murmured, "don't know. I've no idea what that could have been a memory of."

This was a lie, his mind knew full well what was being repressed, and he almost wondered if this wasn't one of those moments he might not want to get that particular memory back. His words didn't make anyone else feel any better either. What on earth could Harry have remembered that would involve someone screaming like that? Obviously nothing they had read about covered it, it wasn't from his childhood or he would remember it...then what?

The four of them were exchanging panicked looks, but Harry had no clue what to offer them this time for comfort. Swallowing back bile, Sirius wondered if Harry might come out of it having a better idea, and hopefully tell Remus then, so read uneasily.

He knew he should do something, but there was cold and white everywhere...then someone was shouting his name and slapping him on the face, and he sat bolt upright to find himself on the floor of the train, which was moving along again.

'Thank goodness it's gone,' Lily groaned, hoping she wouldn't have to deal with those things ever again. They caused far too horrible reactions, now in two of her boys!

Ron and Hermione were on either side of him, terror all over their faces as they watched him. Neville and Lupin looked pretty similar as they stared down at him.

'What a lovely reunion,' Remus mentally grumbled, only imagining what he had been thinking of seeing Harry again in this future, and it being spoiled like this.

Harry still felt terrible, cold and sticky all over, and likely to be sick any moment, while Ron helped him back onto his seat and asked if he was okay.

"Oh yeah, he's just peachy," James scowled, hating to hear about his son in such an awful condition.

Harry said that he was fine, then asked who'd been screaming? Ron said he hadn't heard anything like this, and Harry glanced around to find the others saying the same, even Ginny who was huddled up in the corner and looking paler then Harry was used to.

They were all frowning for this poor kid, not even needing to guess that her worst memory was probably still plaguing her nightmares after last year.

Harry insisted he'd heard someone screaming, but cut himself off in shock when he heard a crack. Lupin had dug out some chocolate, and was breaking it apart.

"Why do you have that?" Sirius asked suspiciously.

"Is it so odd for him to have some food on him?" Harry asked, giving a weak laugh at what he thought was an overreaction.

James and Lily were both frowning though, James adding, "no, I agree with Sirius, bit of an odd coincidence that Remus happened to have something on him that makes people feel better after they run into a dementor."

"So, you think you did know about the dementors getting on the train?" Lily asked, still feeling rather odd asking anything in regards to Remus being present for this.

Remus threw his hands up in the air, looking rather agitated as he snapped, "how should I know?"

"Cool it Moony," Sirius grumbled, giving him a nudge in the ribs, "no one's blaming you but yourself. At least you got the thing out." Sirius knew exactly why Remus was on edge right then, he was most likely blaming himself for not acting faster and getting that Dementor out of the compartment before Harry had such a severe reaction.

Sirius' guess was exactly right, and Remus then gave Lily a sheepish smile and slumped back in his seat, still rather annoyed at his future self. He'd been in the room with Harry again for how long now, and he not only hadn't introduced himself to Harry properly, but he'd let that situation go on far too long. He should have used that charm the moment he had awoken, if the others' guess was right and he had been forewarned of Dementors would be on the train. It also answered his earlier question, that no he most certainly hadn't helped Sirius get on the train, the dementors would have found him no matter where he'd been hiding on it.

There was another long, drawn out silence after this horrible moment, and they were all wishing it would just stop soon. They hadn't even reached the school yet, and so far this was the worst book possible for all of them. Still, it's not like they had anything else to do about it, so Sirius forced himself to keep going.

He handed the largest piece to Harry, telling him to eat it. Harry took it, but then just stared at it.

"You don't realize how lucky you are," James said weakly, trying and failing for a joke, "Remus doesn't share food lightly."

Remus didn't raise to the bait, and Harry only gave a halfhearted grin at his father.

He instead asked what that thing was, and Lupin explained it was called a dementor, one from Azkaban. He stuffed the empty wrapper in his pocket, having given some out to all of them now, and told them to eat up while he went to go and find the conductor, before leaving altogether.

"What was that?" Sirius demanded, now scowling over at said man.

Remus shrugged and looked to the ceiling as he murmured, "that was me making a quick exit I presume."

"Leave it Sirius," James sighed, pressing his face into his hands as he finished, "I can hardly blame him for delaying that. It wasn't exactly a very nice time to get into such a topic with all of his friends around."

Remus looked a little better, making Lily and Harry chuckle to themselves that his actions being explained to him by James made him feel better. Sirius rolled his eyes, Remus had more impulse control then he did, since he was sure the moment he laid eyes on Harry he was going to try blurting out all kinds of things. He was positive if the Knight Bus hadn't interrupted, he probably would have already.

Hermione turned back to Harry and asked if he was really okay, and Harry just asked what on earth had happened. Hermione tried to explain that when the dementor had come in, Harry had kind of...she trailed off, and Ron explained that Harry seemed to go into some kind of fit as he fell off his seat jerking around.

"That's a pretty sever reaction to something you can't even remember now," Lily whispered, still keeping a maternal eye on Harry.

He simply shrugged, feeling shame start to replace fear. Why did he have such a sever reaction, when clearly Ron was fine?

Hermione jumped back in by saying that Lupin had stepped in then, telling that none of them were hiding Sirius Black, but when the dementor still hadn't gone he'd shot some silver thing at it, making the dementor go away.

Remus grumbled something foul about himself under his breath, bordering along the lines of he still should have reacted faster mixed in with a few choice words, but Sirius was still ignoring him.

Neville agreed it was the worst feeling he'd ever had in his life, Ron adding on it had given him the feeling he could never be cheerful again. Ginny was still curled into herself and gave a light sob.

"That poor girl," James frowned in concern, "like she really needed to be reminded of her last year."

Harry was frowning in real concern, wanting to go back and hug the girl now and try to make sure she was okay, but he'd been a little preoccupied with his own reaction at the time.

Hermione gave her a small hug, but Harry instead asked hadn't any of them fallen down as well? Ron was still watching Harry very carefully as he admitted that Ginny had been shivering like crazy, but no.

Remus was quick to explain the different reactions people would have to dementor effects. It was all too clear on Harry's face now what he was feeling, and none of them wanted him to feel like that when it wasn't his fault how he reacted to this type of thing.

Harry nodded in understanding, very grateful to have this explained to him now rather than sitting on it, and finally understanding why he might have a sense a Deja' vu about Remus telling him this. He very well might have asked him later this school year.

Harry didn't understand, he still felt like he'd spent a week running a fever, and why hadn't anyone else reacted like he had?

"Your reaction wasn't that bad," Sirius said bracingly, taking pity on his pup and admitting something he was very not proud of. "My first time running into a dementor, I remembered back to when I'd been locked up with that dragon in Gringotts and I ran for it. Didn't think twice about it, course I felt just as ashamed as you after the fact."

Harry gave his godfather a full blown smile then, realizing what it took for Sirius to admit to this. He still thought passing out was still a far worse reaction than running, but he understood what he was trying to do all the same and appreciated it.

Lupin came back in then, and when he saw all of them holding melting pieces of chocolate, he made the joke that he hadn't poisoned it. Harry went to take a bite, and found himself warmed all over.

"Lesson number one, take his advice when it comes to dealing with creatures," James told Harry wisely.

"I'm sure I remember that," Harry smiled right back, more than pleased some of that horrible mood was finally leaking back out of the room. All five of them were almost eager to keep reading now, wondering when exactly Remus was going to pull Harry aside so they could talk, hopefully with a simple and understandable explanation of why it hadn't happened already.

Then he told all of them that they'd be arriving at the castle very soon, before asking if Harry was alright by name. Harry didn't bother to ask how he'd known his name.

Remus' face twisted all over again with self-hatred and annoyance, Harry should have grown up knowing the answer to that dammit, but no one said anything about it this time.

He just muttered that he was fine before turning away with embarrassment all over again. They all remained quiet the rest of the trip, not having much to say as they went out into the weather,

Then they all felt a sinking feeling residing in them as they realized Remus hadn't exactly seized an opportunity quite yet. Then Lily said what they were all thinking, "I'm sure he just didn't want to risk being interrupted, the trains not exactly private after all. I wouldn't even be too surprised if he waits until tomorrow after all of your classes are over, and asks you to his office or something."

She said it with such confidence, it made the other boys feel better at once, but Harry was still frowning. Why wouldn't he believe his mother about this? Surely Remus did come talk to him, explain away what was bothering them all now...right?

and the cacophony of the many pets displaying their protest to the rain, even Neville's toad who could be heard croaking under his hat.

"Glad he didn't lose him again," James smirked, remembering back to their first year and the mysterious missing Trevor, glad Neville seemed to have found a way to keep a better eye on his pet.

They followed the short path up to the school carriages, said their hello's to Hagrid whose job was to escort the first years down a different way to boats, and then climbed into the warm seats pulled by invisible horses.

"Nah, you'll learn about those sometime in your sixth or seventh year," Remus shrugged.

"So, what are they?" Harry asked, feeling grumpy all over again at having to ask a question he should know.

This time Sirius explained, and Harry nodded as he remembered them mentioning these odd beasts earlier, but then asked, "so you can only see them when you've seen someone die?"

"Yep," Sirius agreed.

"Then how come Harry didn't see them after he technically saw Quirrell die?" James asked, now realizing this hadn't exactly come up at the end of the last two books when he would have taken the carriages back.

"Harry passed out before he actually saw Quirrell die," Lily reminded, "we didn't even know he was dead until Dumbledore told us."

"Oh yeah," he nodded.

Since Sirius had given Harry a pretty good description of the beasts, Harry let the matter go, but he was still wondering why he had a good idea he knew these beasts better.

Harry had started to feel better since he'd eaten the chocolate, but still weak. His friends kept throwing covert looks his way, like they thought he was going to pass out again any second.

"I really wish you had explained better what dementors were then," Sirius grumbled.

"So do I," Remus agreed, more than frustrated with himself...which was an odd feeling, being mad at something you hadn't technically done yet.

There were two more dementors hovering just outside the gates of the school,

"Yes, because I'm so sure I'm just going to come waltzing through the front gates, please give me a little credit," Sirius huffed. James and Remus rolled their eyes, but Sirius had said that with an almost normal tone of voice, a first since finding out and referring to himself, so they let the comment slide.

and Harry had to fight hard against another cold feeling creeping up on him again. Then they moved past, and he went back to feeling just semi nauseous until the carriages stopped and they climbed out, to a less then pleasant welcome as someone said behind him that they'd heard from Neville that Harry had fainted.

"Who did Neville tell that would be mocking Harry like that?" Lily said in outrage.

Harry defended his friend at once, still grimacing in annoyance as his memory recognized all too well that tone of voice, but he knew Ron had asked/ snapped at Neville about this later so he explained, "Neville and Ginny had been talking about it in their own carriage when they had been getting in one, and Malfoy overheard. He didn't mean to start this."

Lily backed down, mollified at once, but Sirius was still rather annoyed enough his tone showed it as he read.

Ron turned on Malfoy and told him to piss off, but Malfoy was still laughing, asking if the dementors had scared him as well? None of them had a chance to respond when Lupin got out of his own carriage behind them.

"Professor Lupin is the best," James said, then burst out cackling when he realized how much fun this could be.

Sirius was frowning at him though, slightly miffed as he said, "you couldn't have held off on that? I wanted Ron to punch him."

"So sorry my timing wasn't to your liking," Remus rolled his eyes at him.

Malfoy gave Lupin an unkind appraising look, taking in his thin frame and very old clothes, before giving an unconvincing no, adding on Professor at the end in the most degrading way possible before walking off.

"And I already hated this kid before," Sirius scowled down at the book now, "but if he really gives you crap I'm going to insist someone needs to knock his lights out."

"I think I can handle a third year picking on me Sirius," Remus smirked at him, still warmed all the same, and flashing back to a few times when Sirius had made that threat about any other kid who picked on him for his appearance.

The three of them went into the castle then, only for Harry and Hermione to immediately be called aside.

"What did they do now?" James demanded of nothing, Merlin they'd just stepped foot in.

"Why Hermione?" Lily puzzled, long since used to Harry seeming to get more attention than any of them wanted, "and I agree, what on earth could this be about?"

They turned to find McGonagall waving them over to her,

"Well at least it wasn't Snape or Filch trying to blame them for something before school even started," Sirius grumbled.

with a look on her face that made Harry think he was already in trouble.

"She has that effect on everybody," Remus smirked.

She clearly noticed this, telling them to relax and she just wanted to talk to them in her office.

"A word about what though?" Harry asked, still a little on edge at that remembered look.

All of them shrugged, not having the faintest idea.

Then she told Ron to go inside and escorted them to her office, starting on Harry and telling that Lupin had sent word ahead something had happened to Harry on the train.

"Oh Remus, you didn't," Harry groaned, going bright red with remembered embarrassment.

Remus however was smiling, finally pleased with something he'd done in this future, as he explained to Harry, "oh I'm very sure I did. You shouldn't be embarrassed about what happened to you Harry, but I'd still feel much better if you were double checked by someone."

Harry grumbled to himself, not in any kind of agreement because of the fuss he knew this would cause, but it caused the others to continue smiling more broadly. Finally, here was something they had all been hoping for since the very first book, someone who really was there simply to look after their little Harry.

Harry tried to protest, but then the school nurse came in, Madam Pomfrey, took one look at Harry and stated he must have been up to something dangerous again.

"She makes it sound like I do this on purpose," Harry fumed to himself.

McGonagall explained for him it had been a dementor, and Pomfrey was not pleased as she began checking Harry over, muttering her distaste at those things in this school, around delicate children,

"I'm not delicate," Harry said in outrage, causing Sirius to burst into unrestrained laughter.

He refused to explain why though, swallowing back more laughter as he read.

Harry rebutted he wasn't delicate!

Causing the rest of them to snicker as well at Harry's mirrored response. Harry crossed his arms and grumbled about them picking on him.

McGonagall asked what he needed, should he stay the night in the hospital wing?

"Oh he shouldn't be that bad," James rolled his eyes, "he's really had all the treatment that could be given."

Harry protested this at once, horror already coming to him as he realized what kids like Malfoy would have to say about that.

"I swear teachers were never young," Sirius agreed in disgust, they never seemed to understand what their actions could do to a student's status.

"I think I should resent that comment now," Remus butted in, grinning from ear to ear at being able to say that.

Sirius appraised him for a moment, before amending, "okay, most teachers."

Madam Pomfrey said he should be fine so long as he ate some chocolate, and Harry said he'd already had some, from Lupin. Pomfrey was pleased, saying that for once they had a Defense teacher who knew what they were doing.

"DADA huh," James said in approval, "well I couldn't be happier, at least now Harry finally has a competent teacher!"

"Thank Merlin," Sirius agreed, nearly bouncing in place in excitement. "I'm almost happy to be able to hold off on all those insults I've been coming up with, and push them off for another year."

"I am equally delighted you both have so much faith in me, and offended you think something's going to happen to me at the end of this year Sirius," Remus smiled indulgently at the pair of them, continuing by addressing Sirius again. "What exactly do you think is going to happen? I like to think I might even be able to break that stupid rumor, I'm not superstitious."

"Oh I don't know," Sirius shrugged, not looking very concerned by the matter, "in fact, you've got my vote of confidence for doing just that."

"Well now I'm all settled then," he rolled his eyes indulgently, causing the others to continue laughing at the pairs exchange.

Lily kept her lips pursed and her thoughts to herself, disagreeing with the boys and rather wishing he had been taken up for Care of Magical Creatures instead. There was no curse on that position after all to even be a worry, and the less of that the better.

When Harry confirmed that he really was okay, McGonagall asked him to step into the hallway because she wanted to speak privately with Hermione about her schedule, but to wait for them.

"McGonagall's probably telling her she can't actually take all of those classes," Lily remembered sadly.

"But she's already bought all of her textbooks," Sirius protested with a frown, "shouldn't they have done this before the year started, like last year?"

"Maybe they can come up with some sort of deal so that she can rearrange her schedule?" Harry offered, nodding to himself as he was pretty sure this answer felt right.

"Can't see how that would happen," James disagreed, "like we said, some of those happen at the same time."

Harry waited outside as Pomfrey went away, still grumbling to herself about the things around this school. He didn't wait long though when Hermione came back out looking quite pleased,

"Well lookie there," Remus raised a brow in surprise, "looks like Harry was right."

"How though," Sirius insisted, "private lessons?"

Harry shrugged when he realized they were actually expecting him to answer, saying, "she didn't tell me, that was just me trying to guess."

They speculated a few more ideas, but when they finally realized they wouldn't really know until lessons started, let the matter go for now.

then they all went down to the Great Hall where Flitwick was carrying away the standard stool and hat that was used to sort first years.

"Hadn't thought of that," Lily nodded, "McGonagall wasn't the one to do the opening ceremony. Guess I would have thought that the first years would have just waited on her."

"Something else I've never seen before," James grinned.

Hermione was disappointed they'd missed the event of watching the new students be sorted into Hufflepuff, Slytherin, Gryffindor, or Ravenclaw.

"I still don't understand why this book keeps randomly explaining things we all know," Sirius rolled his eyes.

"Probably some weird catch that has to do with the spell these were created with," Remus shrugged.

McGonagall went up to the teachers table while Harry and Hermione went over to the Gryffindor, taking a seat on either side of Ron, while Harry was trying to ignore all the looks of students watching him, wondering if it was possible the whole school knew of his dementor debacle already.

"Sadly, I can believe that," James said with a wince for his son. Looks like another first week that was going to consist of people gawking at his boy.

Ron asked what they'd been doing, and Harry was fixing to explain when Dumbledore stood up to make his speech, and watching his headmaster Harry couldn't help but feel more at peace right then than he had since before his train ride.

While the boys couldn't help but smile at this, they did tend to feel the same way around such a calming and powerful figure that was their headmaster, Lily felt a sinking feeling as she suddenly wondered if perhaps Harry might even be projecting a sense of parent on Dumbledore? It's not as if he had anyone else to connect to like this.

He began by welcoming them all to school, but pointing out the search of the train,

"Was trying to forget that honestly," Sirius grumbled.

was instructed by the school itself. The dementors were on the grounds of Hogwarts this year by order of the Ministry of Magic, while pausing for a moment leading Harry to remember that Arthur had mentioned Dumbledore's distaste with the creatures.

"And now you know exactly why," James grumbled with his own distaste.

He went on by telling them that there were dementors at every in and out of the school, and could not be fooled by anything, not even invisibility cloaks. Harry and Ron glanced at each other.

"Why?" Remus grinned. "You know he knows you have it."

"Just thought it was odd he pointed that thing in particular," Harry shrugged.

Dumbledore warned that these were not things that could be reasoned with, and it was best to avoid them if at all possible. He then instructed that the Head Boy and Girl were given special permission to make sure no students did anything that had to do with the dementors. Percy puffed himself up, making himself look as important as possible in that moment. Dumbledore took another short pause, continuing on seriously,

"Not as Sirius as I could I'm sure," said man smirked, ducking instinctively as both of his friends made to smack him. He then quickly hurried on, still smirking.

that he did have some good news, and addressed the newest teacher Professor Lupin, who had consented to taking the Defense Against the Dark Arts job.

"Consented," James smirked over at him, "like you didn't faint from happiness when he asked you to."

Remus shrugged though, not exactly arguing with James, but also rather weary all the same. He knew for a fact he could put the same measures in place as he had when he was younger, and make absolutely sure he never did harm a student, but he also had the lingering fear as he did when he was a child. If anyone, students or parents, found out what he was he had no doubts he'd be forcibly removed from the school. Now though, a new tightening was also beginning to happen in his throat as he realized the circumstances he'd been planted in. Not only would he be locked up in the Shrieking Shack without his friends, but he'd be having the ghost of his memories haunting him in that castle. He shook it off, gave a weak chuckle for James' benefit, but Sirius still gave him a perturbed look before reading on anyways.

Very few people clapped at the announcement,

"Ouch," Lily winced in sympathy, but Remus quickly waved her off, saying, "I'm not heartbroken. You didn't hear them applauding Lockheart or Quirrell did you? Being a teacher is hardly a popularity contest."

"Please Remus, don't even bother comparing yourself to those two loons," Harry said, rolling his eyes in contempt. "I've known you for a few days and I don't need memories to know you'll be ten times better then them."

"That's what I was going to say," Sirius smirked, then pretended to pout as he continued, "though now I am slightly upset myself that I have to hold back on all those new insults I came up with for this position."

"My heart goes out for you," James snorted.

the only ones doing it with any real heart were the select Gryffindors who'd been in the compartment that Lupin had saved. Harry couldn't help but notice though how he looked even less then healthy and even more shabby compared to all of the other teachers.

Remus couldn't help but wince, having a pretty good idea his finances over the years hadn't gotten any better, but he wouldn't let anyone pause to give him sympathy for it, nearly pushing the book against Sirius' nose to make him keep going.

Ron then told Harry to take a look at Snape.

"Oh Merlin yes," James crowed, pumping his fist in the air and bouncing around like he had a sudden sugar rush.

Sirius wasn't any better, he started laughing so hard the book nearly slipped from his grip, while Remus rolled his eyes indulgently at the pair and couldn't hide a smirk himself.

Lily gave scathing looks to all three of them, knowing quite well what had them hooting like morons, but Harry was giving them all puzzled looks so she explained to him, "they're being childish idiots dear. You know as well as I do that Severus wanted the DADA position, so they're lording it that Remus got the job instead."

"It's priceless," Sirius insisted, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes.

"It also means that Snape can't give Harry too much hell this year," James grinned, still squirming with happiness, "because if McGonagall doesn't stop him Remus will."

Remus bit at his lip, he didn't really know what his friends were expecting. It's not like he could sit in the back of the Potions class and tell off Snape for what he did to Harry. He also knew for a fact he was hardly going to dog him in the corridors to make sure Snape didn't unfairly punish him like he had in the past, he was also rather torn on if he did come along how much help he'd really be. Snape was a teacher just like him, and if Harry was doing something wrong, he would hardly want to let Harry get away with it, in fear of showing Harry favoritism. So he remained silent, still grinning slightly as Lily told them both to shut up. Sirius was still chuckling lightly as he read.

Harry easily spotted him. Snape was well known for wanting that position for himself, but Harry was still shocked to see the look of outright hatred twisting his features that he normally only saved for Harry.

"I would hardly be his favorite person to see again," Remus nodded, "though I didn't exactly go out of my way to bug him like they did," he finished, gesturing at his friends.

Lily narrowed her eyes in annoyance, and James and Sirius took that as a sign not to add anything on. What they didn't know was that Lily was actually getting rather annoyed at her old friend this time. She still hated the way he treated Harry, but if he turned and started acting that way towards Remus as well, she really was going to lose her patience with his actions. Remus was hardly innocent in his friend's actions, but she would be the first to snap at him; he was being childish if he was still going to hold a grudge against him now. She hated what these four boys had done, but she had learned to forgive and forget their stupid actions, why on earth couldn't he?

Dumbledore carried on, mentioning they had another staffing change,

"Oh yeah," James nodded in remembrance, "there's supposed to be a new Care of Magical Creatures teacher too," he leaned in eagerly to hear this one.

as the old Care of Magical Creatures teacher had retired, wanting to save his remaining limbs,

Sirius released a surprised snort of laughter, yeah he couldn't exactly blame him for that, though he was sorry to hear him go.

but Dumbledore had hired Rubeus Hagrid as his replacement,

"Really?" Harry beamed.

"Absolutely," Sirius nodded, grinning right along.

"That's awesome," James nodded eagerly, "no one could do better then Hagrid at that."

"Does that mean they'd need a new gamekeeper though?" Remus asked, just as happy as the others, but still thinking more big picture.

Sirius looked down curiously.

for the job, who'd gladly accepted along with keeping his original title of gamekeeper.

"Wow," Lily forced a laugh to hide her disappointment her idle idea clearly had no hope now, "well I'm more then happy to hear that."

"So, for once, Harry will actually get a good education all year," James smirked.

"Just so long as Hagrid doesn't try and bring another dragon to class for a lesson," Sirius muttered, mostly to himself.

The trio more than happily applauded this, noting Hagrid's look of embarrassment. Ron was laughing then, pointing out that it made sense he would be the one to get them all to buy a biting book.

That released surprised and happy laughter from all of them, yes it did seem Hagrid's type now they thought about it.

Hagrid was trying to subtly wipe his eyes on the tablecloth at the staff table.

"Aw," Lily cooed.

"Can't blame him one bit," Remus nodded in understanding. He more than anyone knew what it felt like to be something someone didn't particularly have much faith in, but had been given such a chance as this.

Harry knew what this must mean to Hagrid, as he'd been kicked out of school at thirteen for a murder he had not done, meaning he wasn't technically a full wizard.

"Doesn't matter," Sirius said, though no one had asked him, he kept going anyways, "you don't have to be a fully qualified wizard to teach Magical Creatures."

"Wasn't that charge dropped anyways?" James asked.

"Yes, but I never asked why he didn't chose to go back to school," Harry shrugged.

After the food was served and everyone else was heading off to bed, Harry and his friends went up to congratulate him in person, but Hagrid didn't get much coherency as he started crying with pleasure all over again and McGonagall told them to get to their dormitories.

"Aw," Lily squealed again.

Remus couldn't help but lean down and whisper something into Sirius' ear, causing him to laugh quite loudly, and Lily to shoot the pair poisonous looks, making Sirius quick to hurry on.

They caught up with the rest of their house and went up to their tower, waiting for Percy to get there and tell them the new password, making Neville bemoan. He was well known for commonly forgetting the secret word to gain entrance.

"Write them down on something?" Sirius suggested with a shrug.

"You're not supposed to," Lily said at once, "what if another student found it?"

"I'd rather he did that then get locked out," Remus said in sympathy.

They went inside to find all their stuff already in their rooms, and Harry beamed around finding himself home once more.

"I remember that feeling," Sirius nodded, passing the book along to Harry for his turn.

HPHPHPHP

*I know all of you guys have been hyped up for the big Sirius reveal, and I'm so glad you all found it to be good and in character, but this is the chapter I've been most anxious to get to. Remus is unabashedly my favorite character! (Have you ever noticed if you ask an HP fan who their favorite character is, no one actually says Harry.) I've spent many a long hours trying to understand why and where he was during Harry's life, and I do hope you guys liked the reasons I provided. More will keep coming the more they understand about Harry's and Remus' life later in books five and six, I've got some more theories and add on's then, but until then hope you enjoyed!

** I looked it up, and poor Remus, it was actually a full moon that night, even though Sept. 1st 1993 was actually a Wednesday, but hey logistics of magic means the true full moon was the night before/that morning. He's recovering from it, hence he was okay for the feast that night and why he slept most of the trip; he'd been awake all night as a werewolf.

#Harry Potter #fanfiction #James Potter #Remus Lupin #Sirius Black #Lily Potter #The LIfe that Never LIved #Marauders #PoA

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